#anyways this cheered me up to no end ty!! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

captain-bubble-wrap · 10 days ago

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Happy New Year!! Could you possibly do an imagine about kissing Q at midnight? Ty!!

10:43pm.

Was it really New Year's Eve already? It was incredible how quickly the year had flow. So much had happened between Quinn and yourself; some for the better and worse. Right now, things were bad again. Not between the two of you, but with the team and with his ability to stay healthy. After healing fully from the high-sticking, you thought Quinn was going to get back to his old self, sniping wristers from the blue line and stacking up points for a back-to-back Norris run. Sadly, he was looking at another two to three weeks of off-ice rest, not counting the time off during Christmas.

Quinn hadn't traveled to Calgary with the rest of the Canucks and you could feel the effects of Quinn not being with his boys while you sat beside him in his living room. He hadn't said a whole lot today, nor had you pressed him for conversation. If he wanted to talk, he knew you were available. Other than that, you had left him alone. However, it was nearing an hour from the new year and you were itching for something to do.

"Wanna get dressed up and take a walk downtown?" You turned toward him on the sofa, crossing your legs up under you. You weren't sure how your proposition was going to over, but you would remain hopeful nonetheless.

Quinn sighed deeply, "Not really. I'm not in a 'going out' mood. I'm sorry, sweetheart." He would look up from his phone and give you a sympathetic glance. It was all over his face that he had no interest in leaving his apartment that evening. Normally, you'd share that same sentiment, but New Year's was once a year, and it wasn't often that Quinn was home for the holiday. You just thought that maybe he would want something to get his mind off the raincloud over his head.

You both had watched the game together. He was tense the entire time, like he was on the bench and completely powerless to command this team. Everything was a struggle, but when they had finally tied it up there was some hope that they could still turn it around. Unfortunately, the score would end with a 3-1 Canucks loss and Quinn shaking his head. This was two games without their captain they would lose, and another two points they wouldn't be going home with.

Leaving him alone with his thoughts and whatever business he was doing on his phone, you tried to keep yourself awake and the collective mood in the apartment from completely going to shit. Watching any kind of movie was out, because you knew his mind would be elsewhere, but what could you do where it wouldn't be back in the arena, replaying plays and fixing errors? You'd pout as you bounced from idea to idea before you felt your stomach grumble.

"Wanna bake some cookies?"

This would cause him to put his phone down, like it had been the magic words he didn't know he needed to hear. "I'd actually love that."

You'd give him a warm, beaming smile before hopping to your feet and excitedly hurrying to the kitchen. Now, you nervously hoped that you actually had everything needed for cookies!

"What do you need me to do?" Quinn would ask, looking at you on your tip-toes, going through the cabinet before finally getting up to help you.

"Can you grab the eggs and butter? We should have enough eggs.... I hope so anyway!" You remarked nervously.

"Sure," he replied flatly, taking a moment to scan the interior of the fridge. "Anything else?"

"Nope! That's it for the cold stuff, thank you."

"Mhm."

Quinn would shuffle around to the island, taking a seat while you messed about, adding more and more ingredients to the space in front of him. You knew he was trying his hardest to come off as happy, but you knew he was having a hard time. You wouldn't press him to cheer up, and if he had wanted to go back to the living room, leaving you to finish them, it wouldn't have bothered you.

"Sorry I'm not much help," he mumbled, like he had read your mind.

"What? Oh, you're okay, baby! I'm glad you're here, that's enough!" Your smile had brought a little glimmer to his eyes while he continued to sit and watch. Quinn had been the only boyfriend you had had where just being in the same space with him brought you joy even if you were both doing different things. You could feel him watching you, making you smile more when you had your back to him. The slight squeak of him moving back his chair had been the only indication that he was on the move.

"What can I do to help?" He would say, snuggling in tightly to your body, making it near impossible to move anywhere.

You'd take a minute to think of what you could have him do, but you also didn't want to take him out of his comfort zone.

"Can you just keep doing what you're doing?"

"Just...holding you?"

"Mhm!" You giggled, reaching for the sack of flour and measuring cups, struggling to reach due to Quinn's grasp. "I'm not asking for too much, am I?"

"Not at all. I just feel guilty watching you do everything." His voice was low, and sprinkled with the sound of depression and anguish. You knew that's how he had felt watching the games he couldn't participate in: hopeless and useless.

"Well, I can't hold myself," you laughed, overlapping your hands on his at your waist. "You're doing a great job."

Quinn would playfully scoff at you giving him a verbal gold star, but deep down, he was so thankful that you didn't ridicule him when he got in these moods. He knew he could be so hard to deal with and the fact that you took every one of them at stride meant so much. Tonight was no different.

The minutes would tick by quickly as you measured numerous ingredients into varying bowls before finally combining them into one, homogeneous mixture resembling chocolate chip cookie dough. From time-to-time, Quinn would dip a single finger into the dough, and each time you would softly tap him on the hand.

"Baby!"

"Quality control test," Quinn teased.

"You've said that three times now! Don't make yourself sick!"

He would let his arms fall from around your body, when you hinted that you needed to move away from where you had been standing. He seemed to be in a slightly lighter mood, having peppered you with delicate kisses the whole time you worked. How you loved having him home with you, just doing silly little domestic things like a normal couple did. However, having a partner like Quinn, and his profession, you never took the little things for granted.

"Okay, fifteen to seventeen minutes," you said, putting the filled pans into the already hot and ready oven. You'd set the timer and walk back to him as he leaned against the counter. Quinn smiled at you, taking your hands in his at his sides.

"Now we wait?" He asked, blinking slow, like he was fighting sleep despite being awake at this time rather often.

"Mhm, come on, baby. You look exhausted," you confessed, trying to drag him back towards the direction of the living room.

"I'm okay. I'm afraid if I sit down I'm going to fall asleep."

You acknowledged the truth in his words before another brilliant idea came to your mind. "Oh! I know! Wait right here, 'kay?"

Regrettably, you'd let go of his hands so you could cross the room and dim the kitchen lights to a low, golden glow.

"Alexa, play Moonlight Serenade," you'd ask, returning to Quinn's arms.

"Playing Moonlight Serenade, by Glenn Miller on Amazon Music."

Quickly, the apartment was filled with the crackling of a vintage record recording and the 1940s orchestra that was responsible. It was an easy enough waltz to sway to in the comfort of each other's company, there in the kitchen while the cookies bubbled and baked in the oven. Quinn would smile over your shoulder the whole time, having finally been able to shake off the feelings of failure.

"Everybody loves somebody sometime~," Dean Martin would croon through the apartment's speakers. "And although my dream was overdue, your love made it well worth waiting for someone like you~

You couldn't help but giggle. It was like the song was saying what you were feeling and Quinn held the same sentiment. Silently, you two would continue to dance together to the love songs of old until the beeping of the timer pulled you apart. You'd both turn to see that the clock also read 12:00.

"Happy New Year's, baby," Quinn would say first, tipping your chip up towards his awaiting lips.

"Happy New Year's!" You replied, your lips just hovering next to his. The kiss was long, and sweet and everything you wanted to welcome in the new year with. Neither of you would let the other go for several minutes after, sharing multiple more affections until Quinn reminded you of the cookies.

"I'd really hate for your hard work to go to waste. We can always finish this later," he chuckled, pulling you in for one more heartfelt kiss.

"Well, we'll have another fifteen to seventeen minutes," you winked, taking the pans out of the oven. "Does that work for you?"

"Oh, absolutely."

#I RUSHED HOME AS SOON AS I COULD TO WRITE THIS TONIGHT!#IT'S CURRENTLY 2AM #thank you sweet anon!#happy new years to you too!#quinn hughes #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes fanfiction #quinn hughes one shot #hockey imagine #hockey oneshot #hockey fanfiction #hockey fic

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toomiieimagiines · 3 months ago

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hihihi

uhm so am i allowed to request again (i don’t wanna spam) 😭😭🙏

and if i am can u pls do a rui x hopeless romantic best friend reader (i’m totally normal about best friends to lovers lmfao)

so like the reader is always yapping about hot guys and it’s a little angsty at first because rui is thinking to himself ‘why did i have to fall inlove with someone that won’t ever choose me’ and then one day a hot guy comes up to reader and asks her out, reader is about to say yes but then she realises that she barely knew him and there was someone (rui) who had been by her side since day one and she figures out who she really loves (RUIII) so she rejects him and when rui asks why she just hugs him and says ‘because your the one i really want’ mwah mwah i feel like such a genius (i really hope this made sense lmao be prepared for a million bestie-> lovers and angst-> fluff rui requests 😼)

thank youyoyoyoyoyuuu!!

hi guys! i’m so so incredibly sorry for how inactive i have been! unfortunately, the fanfic writer curse caught up to me, and i’ve had considerably bad things happen to me! ToT

i had developed a really bad addiction after a recent episode - which may be why i’ve loved to write my characters so miserable, but they get a happy ending in the end - and have recently relapsed after a couple months. i’ve also been struggling with a lot of things, like being bullied again, pressure from theater, classes, autism, parental issues, memory of past trauma, having no friends, things like that. i’ve just been having a really hard time, so writing has been super difficult for me. i’m currently having some of the worst mental health in my life, and am un-recovering from other things i’ve had in the past too, after seeing the results of my recovery. sorry if this triggered anybody, i just needed to get this off my chest, and felt also that i should explain where i have been. you all supporting me has kept me going, and i hope you enjoy this one too! LETS END THE PITY PARTY!!!

in other - not so depressing news - here you guys go!! sorry for OOCness, obviously this is a more dramatic approach to a story! happy ending, j tried to write the inner narration differently for how you two were feeling at the time.. and ty once again for such a great idea, mama ^3^

“I don’t think I could stand to be where you don’t see me.”

If he has to sit here and listen to this one more time, he thinks he’ll go insane.

Rui Kamishiro loves you. He truly does. You’re his best friend, his partner in crime, his-

Never mind.

Rui loves you, but he absolutely HATES your taste in guys, and it’s driving him nuts. Nodding and agreeing can only get him so far before he wants to rip his own hair out, and tonight is no exception.

“I give up! All boys are dumb, I don’t need them!” You lament, resting your chin in your hands. It’s the same song and dance over and over. You swear off boys, you get attention, you get sucked in, and he has to pick up the pieces when it inevitably fails. How many times has he thought about how much better he would treat you now? He doesn’t know. He’d be a classical lover, he’d never speak to you the way those stupid unprincipled high school boys do.

Gross. That’s his best friend, why’d he think that? And when did he start being so self confident? He really outta look at himself in the mirror. What an egomaniac he’s turning out to be.

He shakes his head.

“You do know I’m still a boy, right?” He prods, trying to cheer you up. He knows this situation well, and he knows exactly how to make you feel better. Again he’d pull you out of this, and again he’d watch you fall in love.

He wishes you could be happy. He wishes you weren’t in love with being in love. You’re too pure for true love, love is disgusting, depraved, and unkind. You’re not anything like that.

“I know, I know, but you’re the only good one!” You point, words self-assured. “I don’t need a boyfriend, you do everything boyfriendy for me anyway!”

Ouch. Thanks a lot, that’s exactly what he needed to hear right now. He’s not gonna dwell on that last bit for now, he’ll wait until he’s home. Then he can- he doesn’t know. Cry, or something juvenile like that.

“So I’m back-up-boyfriend?” He masks himself in jest, smiling teasingly at you.

“Eh, maybe,” you snicker, “you’d definitely be cute if you weren’t my friend.”

He turns to his school work sharply, trying to mask his complete and utter despair. Ugh, why does he have to be so dramatic? His own personality makes his skin crawl with disgust and hatred, and that only makes him cringe more. He could think about how obnoxious he is all day. Maybe he should use that go home and cry pass early. He pretends to check the time, as if that isn’t all he’s been doing.

“It’s getting late, after this problem I should get going.” He mutters, scribbling some random numbers into his notebook. You yawn in response, being broken out of absentmindedly scrolling through your phone.

“Ugh, I wish you didn’t have to go!” You drape an arm over his torso, trying to hold him in. He smiles fondly, wrestling to get you off of him.

“I’d have to walk home in the dark then, do you want that?” He knows you’d never let him, and he sees it immediately.

Your face looks knowing, and you let him go right away. It amuses him at first, but quickly fills him with overwhelming pity. You’re so kindhearted it makes him sick. You shouldn’t worry about someone like him, it’s bad for your health.

“Would you like me to walk home with you?!” You shoot up, the idea of him not being safe running through your head. Maybe he should’ve kept his mouth shut. How emasculating! He’s not a helpless young girl! He’s just as manly as those boys who you long for, he’s not a puppy to be walked!

God, is jealously turning him into a bigot? He shakes his head once again, this time not just to clear his thoughts. He’s absolutely not letting you walk him home, it’d be mortifying. He takes your attention belly up, you should have a break. Maybe some time to yourself for a change? God, Rui, get a grip.

“I’m fine, I don’t want you out late by yourself either,” he assures, looking at you in haste.

“Ah. You have a point.”

“I always do.” He means more to that, and he wishes he could tell you. He wants you to see that even he knows what he’s talking about. He needs you to see him, just for once. Not as a best friend, or backup boyfriend, just as a regular one. As a lover who dances in the rain, or ties your shoes

He needs to stop. He shouldn’t think about you like that. It’s lecherous.

You two exchange goodbyes, giving him a long hug (much to his horror). He hates how feverish it is it hold you like this, it makes him feel guilty. His body gets hot, his cheeks flare up, his throat feels tight- it makes him feel like a pervert, even if his thoughts are the farthest thing from lewd.

He feels that everything he thinks about you is repulsive, though.

“Be safe”’s and “See you later”’s are passed between you two, and he walks down your front steps, now completely alone. His eyes scan the damp pavement, seeing the golden hues from the sky light the boring rock. That’s how he feels about you, he decides. You’re the sun, and he’s the pavement. He humors himself by thinking that your suitors are the clouds, stopping you from shining your light for him so he can grow weeds in the cracks of his soul. That’s what these feelings are. Weeds.

He wants to live life beautifully with you, he decides. He wants to tie your shoes, he wants to twirl you as you dance.

He wishes he could be the moon. Something of consequence- of importance, but he’s just the pavement. Not the earth, not the stars, not the clouds, or rain, he’s just a man made monster who destroys nature - you - and is walked over by people who do matter.

He should quit being this way, he grumbles, it doesn’t do anybody any good to be so flowery. He’s too girly- too weak. Maybe that’s why you don’t like him. If you’re willing to date anything that moves other than him, that must mean he’s on a completely new level, huh?

That’s what dreaming gets you, Rui. Crushed dreams and embarrassment.

He lets out a pitiful sigh, kicking a pebble with his shoe. He sees a worm in a lawn which reminds him of himself, he sees a couple shopping for a new game which reminds him of you, he sees a convenience store which reminds him that he’s hungry-

His life can be so mundane sometimes, what a drag.

He’s about to reach his front door, when he steps into a puddle. It feels like an appropriate representation of his life right now. A sense of disgraceful hilarity washes over him, and he begins to laugh. He laughs a while, he laughs as he takes his shoes off, he laughs as he peels his button up down, and he laughs as he lays in his bed. How dramatic he could be some times!

He falls asleep quickly. He has a dream about being on stage and forgetting his lines.

He wakes up with a thud, he fell out of bed. How embarrassing. He decides to check his phone.

Weirdo: RUII

Weirdo: wanna hang w me 2day?? u don’t have dance time right??

Weirdo: gonna kill you. WAKE UP

Me: I’m awake, sorry!

Weirdo: finally sleeping beauty

Weirdo: wanna get a snack? i’m simply starved…

Me: When?

Weirdo: an hr maybe…

Me: Okay :) I’ll tell you when I leave.

Weirdo: kay!!

He really doesn’t feel like being social today, but he’d never pass up an opportunity to see you. He’s an obscene degenerate when it comes to you, pouncing on your attention like a sick dog. It’s mortifyingly pathetic.

He gets dressed, throwing on a boring striped sweater. It’s getting colder outside recently, and he’s always ran cold anyway. His hands are shaky and nervous as he brushes his teeth, the anxiousness to see you making his body jittery. He considers breakfast, but quickly shuts the idea down. He doesn’t want to be stressed out - at least more than he already is - when he sees you. Twitchy hands lock his door, and he gets a few feet away before he double checks that he did, in fact, lock it. Pull yourself together, Rui! He screams at himself.

The walk is just as unexciting as he expected, albeit a bit chilly. He’s feeling thankful for the sweater. The breeze runs its hands through his hair, and he’s reminded that winter is coming. He always liked Autumn flowers the best, hibiscus flowers are pretty too, he supposes. It’s nice to have the warmth of the sun soothing his cold hands during summer, for sure.

He trips over a rock on the way, and his pants get wet on the knees. Khaki blends into an ugly brown, and he sighs. How unlucky, would anything go right for him today?

Turns out it will, you look really good today.

You great him at the door, practically buzzing with eagerness. It makes him smile, knowing that you do, in fact, want to see him. Or at least are acting like it. You’re a good friend to him, he’s lucky to have you.

“Rui!” You hug him as a greeting, wrapping your arms tightly around his waist. His heart soothes, eyes closing in relaxation. Problems feel obscure and distant when you two are like this, despite his reluctance last night. He can forget about corrupt feelings - or misguided love- and he can just be your best friend. Despite his apprehension to be cared for, he is flattered that you, at least, seem to like him.

“Hey.” He breaths you in, his voice soft. He hopes you don’t notice, it’s embarrassing.

“Hey!” You reply, pulling away. “Big things planned, Rui!”

“What big things?” He asks, amused. “Big things” for you were junk food and shopping.

“Big things! It’s a surprise!” You put your shoes on, and he can’t help but feel jealous as he watches your hands tie them dutifully. He sighs, stretching. He decides to make it a challenge to act normal the whole day. No weird thoughts are going to beguile his mind, he promises himself.

You lock your front door, twisting the knob to make sure that it did, in fact, lock. This fills him with a child-like sense of delight, maybe you two really were similar.

Nah, not possible. You’re too pure - too perfect. Ugh, Rui, no more stupid thoughts.

He watches you check the time, make a face at a nearby bird, and cover your cheeks with your hands. You suddenly perk up, wrapping your arms around him.

“Warm me up, will ya?” You scowl at the cool air, grip tightening. He gulps. It’s weird he reacts like this, considering you two have done things like this all the time. It’s normal, so why does he have to be such a creep? His arms wrap around yours, running his hands up and down to create heat.

“Should’ve worn a jacket,” he chides, “wouldn’t be cold, y’know?” His voice is so casual, like everything is totally fine. It is fine. Fine, fine, fine.

“Gotta look good. I’m on the hunt, obviously,” you joke. It isn’t funny to him, but he lets out a laugh.

“You’re hopeless.”

You two stop at a convenience store first, and you all but sprint to the drinks. He had this ritual down to a science. You grab two different color slushies, and he grabs whatever odd snack catches your collective stomachs eye today. Today the two of you decide to split a cookie, and walk to the counter. The cashier gives you a smirk, and he averts his eyes.

“This it?” The boy cocks his head, and you get the memo. You immediately jump on the opportunity.

“Mhm!” You wink, resting your chin in your hands while leaning against the counter. In all honestly, he wasn’t even that cute. At least, that’s what Rui kept telling himself.

“Don’t worry about it, than. I got you guys,” he waves you off. Score! You think, but he adds. “If I can get your number.” Rui feels like falling into the floor, how awkward! You just scribble it onto a stray receipt, winking.

“Thank you! You’re the sweetest!!” You singsong, skipping along with Rui following suite. You immediately burst into laughter, throwing a fake punch at Rui. “What a weirdo! Like I’d call him over what, 1000 yen?! I don’t even know him, yuck!”

So you did have some sense, he feels like letting out a sigh of relief. You hold your hands out.

“Which one do you want? I got your favorite!!” You look so proud, and he wants to laugh. His “favorite” isn’t actually his favorite, but he’d never tell you that.

The lie started one day in middle school, when the two of you suddenly had a weird craving for slushies. When you picked them out, you had gotten a red one and a blue one, and asked him what he wanted. While he really didn’t like red, he knew you liked blue, so he said red. Now for the past four years, you’ve always ended up getting him a red one, thinking it was his favorite. He’ll deal with it for you. Seeing your blue tongue stick out with brain freeze is better than any sugary drink anyway.

“Red, duh.” He scoffs playfully, taking a sip of it. The taste doesn’t really bother him all that much anymore. It reminds him of you.

You always let him divide the snacks, thinking he gives himself the bigger half. He never does, but he eats slower so you think he did. You skip along, enjoying it.

“Y’know, this isn’t bad. Wish they had the brownie, though. That never does us wrong.” God, don’t make him think of the ‘crack brownies’ - as you two call them. Those are great, and he likes them, so you never miss an opportunity to shove them down his throat.

“Don’t complain. Remember the egg roll incident?” He points, laughing at the memory. You two steer clear of that section now, having gotten sick.

“Ugh, I haven’t thought about that in a while! I’m never eating an egg roll again after that day! Ugh,” you gag.

Moments of silly memories like this make him feel like he’s known you forever. He can’t even remember a moment where he hasn’t loved you.

“Where’re we going now, commander?” He salutes, following the trail of sunshine you left behind.

“Where ever the wind blows us, kind sir!” You salute back, pushing him along. Your constant checks of your phone don’t go unnoticed by him, and he fights the urge to roll his eyes.

“Who’re you texting? Don’t tell me it’s that guy.” He tries to sound casual, knocking his shoulder against yours playfully.

“‘M not a total idiot, I’ll have you know!” You huff, holding your phone to your chest. “It’s just somebody we went to school with a while back, ‘m seeing if I can pull the moves.”

“Do I know him?”

“Dunno, never saw you two talking, so maybe not. He was in my english class, remember, the only class we didn’t have together?”

“Ah.”

You two walk in silence, except for when he yanks you back from the collar so you don’t walk into oncoming traffic, which amuses you greatly. You two soon arrive at the small mall, and he tails you as you run with excitement. You two browse everything, constantly pointing out cute plushies, or interesting keychains.

“Rui, look! Look!” You shake him, pointing to the back of somebody’s head inconspicuously. “Wait don’t yet- Okay, now! He’s turning around! That’s the guy! What a coincidence we see him here, right? Do you recognize him?”

Ha. Yeah, he knows this guy. He definitely knows him. He’s the one who would trip him during passing periods, he’s the one who left flowers on his desk. They make eye contact, and it’s like all of his growth left his body. He’s just the same freak from middle school, he’s still thirteen.

He shudders at the guys smirk, sensing that he definitely knows that Rui knows him. He jogs over to the two of you, and Rui already knows what’s about to happen, due to the lopsided smile on your face.

Damnit, this is the first time he doesn’t think he can act like it’s okay.

“Oh wow, what a coincidence! Must be fate we run into each other like this, ehe…” You giggle awkwardly, a dumb expression gracing your face. It’s painful seeing you that way for anybody other than him, and he looks away awkwardly.

“Must be.” He answers, swaggering closer towards you. Rui thanks whatever God above because - despite his current situation - at least this asshole didn’t go to highschool with you guys.

He looks down at his shoes, and tries to shuffle away, knowing this jackass is about to say something. He’s quickly stopped.

“Who’s this, huh? Feel like a recognize him from somewhere…” He trails off, smirking through his nose as he turns his attention to him. “Have we met before?”

“This is Kamishiro Rui, he’s my friend! He went to middle school with us, remember?” You happily answer for him.

Ha, friend? What happened to back-up boyfriend? He’s a little hurt, to be honest.

He feels bitter, it’s unbecoming- God, he doesn’t care. He should feel bad for getting so angry over it, it’s not like you belong to him. He’s such a freak, getting attached to you like this.

He starts to pick at his fingers, then he plays with a loose string on his sweater. You two continue to chat like nothings wrong, and he keeps thinking. It’s something he’s gotten good at recently.

He stops feeling bad about himself for a second- a split second where he resents you, and wishes his pain upon you. Wants you to know what it’s like to be so disgustingly, guiltily, revoltingly obsessed with someone. In this split second, he can’t even find it in himself to feel guilty about it, which is unlike him. He wishes you felt love like this, that you were as psychotic about it.

But this doesn’t last long, because he remembers that he loves you more than anything. He’s lucky to be your friend. You’re a great friend, you’re an amazing person, you’re the sun, the sun, the sun.

He’s the pavement, he has to remember.

“I’m- I’ll leave you to it, y’know? Fabric store.” He stutters, choking on his voice. You don’t even notice, waving him off.

You do, however, remember to press his shoulder, uttering an absentminded “Okay, Rui, bye,” and he remembers again how perfect you are for doing it subconsciously. He lets himself feel the touch, long after he’s walked away. He deserves it after the trouble he’s reliving.

When he makes it to the fabric store - which he really didn’t need anything from, Nene had gotten some the other day - he can’t help himself from wishing he could just go home. Malls were always overwhelming already, and now his saving grace has the attention of another man. He walks through aisles, but realizes that he now has to buy something.

‘Least he knows that social cue, he laughs bitterly, running his hands across his face in frustration. He’s so ridiculous.

Meanwhile, you were chatting up a storm. It was your first time talking in person since middle school, after all! You feel giddy for a while, but it cuts abruptly. You feel a strange sense of urgency, something’s missing.

Oh, your best friend.

But where had he gone? You’re sure he was just here. You smile apologetically at the cute boy, putting on your best performance.

“Oh, I better go get my friend now. I don’t like walking home when it’s late. Was nice seein’ you, let’s hang out soon, ‘kay?” You singsong, stepping closer. You want to give yourself a pat on the back, you’re so cute.

He rolls his eyes, and you’re hit with a wave of uneasiness. That noise he made sounds strangely dismissive, he’s not the kind of guy to be a jerk though, you must be hearing things-

“Leave ‘im. Between you and me, he was a total freak in middle school. Probably is now, too. Probably likes you or somethin’, total nutcase.” His voice sounds so casual, like it’s not the douchiest thing you’ve heard all day.

You let other men walk all over you, sure. You let them cheat on you, lie, whatever. But you’re not about to stand here and insult Rui. He’s the only untouched thing in your life - the only person who isn’t cruel. He’s so gangly and awkward, but in the best way. You could live a million times and not be able to deserve him, at least you think so. He’s so unusual, and that’s what you love most about him. Little things like not liking loud lights, or liking the red slushies the best, make your heart buzzy with familiarity. He’s the one constant in your life.

You’ve been awfully worried about him recently, though. His particularly (as you like to call it) has gone to the an extreme, and it’s been a battle getting him to eat real food. You’re not blind, you see the way he’s been spacing out, or tapping a little too much. You just thought he’d been overwhelmed. He worries you to death sometimes, but despite all of his own struggles, he always seems to not care about it, deciding to always be there for you instead. Ah, he’s just such an amazing guy - no, not guy, he’s not anything like those other boys you talk to. He’d never insult someone like that. He’s not just a guy, he’s like your person.

Yeah, he’s definitely your person.

Your heart sputters at the thought, and you feel something you’ve never really felt before - save for hugs between the two of you that lasted just a second too long, or words a little too romantic. The feeling makes your mind fuzzy, and your heart hurt terribly with something you could only place as homesickness.

Oh.

“I,” you begin, backing away. “Yeah, I’m sorry but I’ll really be going now-“

“What? C’mon I was just messing with you, even though having guy friend’s kinda weird.” He rolls his eyes.

“Yeah whatever, I’ll call you back,” you say dismissively.

You’re totally lying, you laugh, you’re not calling him back.

He didn’t seem to like that.

“Damn, can’t even joke around with you people. Whatever, weirdo, sorry I insulted your little boyfriend.” The change in tone amuses you.

Yeah, good riddance, pal.

You turn away, walking through the mall with pace. It takes a while, but you spot him watching a pet stores aquarium.

He’s a funny one.

You wave your hands, trying to get his attention. He swallows, knowing that it’s probably to ask him if it’s cool to walk home by himself. Emotions are stupid, and ironically, you both think that at the same time.

“Rui! Rui! Hey c’mon, let’s go home, yeah?” You smile, face feeling warm. It’s a different feeling from when you usually talk to him. He looks at you, a little shocked. He had assumed you were smiling wide because you set up a date, so he turns his head.

“Where is he, huh?” He looks away, back to the fish tank. You shift in place, was he mad at you? You’re a little irritated at the mention of the guy, though, and huff.

“Don’t worry about that. Seems like I only attract douchebags, so I decided to go.” You explain, poking his shoulder. “Hey,” you start, “let’s just walk home, I wanna talk to you about something.” The idea makes you feel dizzy, but you’ll have to illustrate your feelings one day.

You can leave out the “I think I’m in love with you” part, you think.

The two of you walk in an excruciating silence, staring down at the reflection of the setting sun in the puddles. His heart tightens, remembering his earlier comparison. Even now, you’re so perfect. Even if he’s frustrated with you - despite you turning down the guy in the end (he doesn’t know why, he wanted to ask) - even if he’s ready to scream, and cry, and ask you what it is he did for you to be so turned off by him, he still thinks you’re the most heavenly, divine person to ever grace his view. He wants to be where you see him, he wants to be in your orbit.

“You’re like the sun-“ He blurts out, immediately regretting it. He didn’t mean to say that, God, he’s so fucking stupid. He sees you stop walking, smiling that same stupid, dopey, lopsided smile that he’s always so jealous of-

Oh. It’s for him.

He chokes, stopping to meet you eye-to-eye. You look up at him too, laughing giddily.

“What does that mean?”

He sputters, stepping away. “N-no it’s nothing- It was stupid anyway so-“

“No, tell me!” You urge, laughing a little harder. “What if it was something bad, ‘nd you were making fun of me? That’s not nice, Rui!”

“I- Hey-“ His voice goes a touch higher, a defensive tone rising. “That’s not-“

“Then tell me.”

“It’s just,” he breaths, trying to word it in the least creepy way possible. How does convey the fact that he sees you as a divine presence, that he sees himself as a worthless creature compared to you, without sounding like he’s hopelessly possessed by love for you? “I just- you’re so amazing,” he starts, “I thought of this stupid thing the other day when I was walking home - you know how I am - and well, I just thought of you when the sun reflected off the pavement - since it rained, y’know? - and well, it just- Sorry, it was dumb-“ He rambles, covering his face in anguish.

Nobody’s ever put that much thought into you. Sure, you’ve received a few ‘You’re so gorgeous’’s, where you’ve had to wonder where they learnt such a “big word”, but never something as poetic as that. The usual Rui-ratic explanation endeared you to him even more. You look at him, the smile never leaving. He’s just… so Rui. His stupid striped sweater, his half up hair - that you’d begged him to grow out - his eyes, whatever. Everything about him you treasure, and little do you know he cherished you even that more intensely.

“I think you’re the moon, Rui. Or maybe the earth, since I take care of you, hah!” You snicker, stepping closer to him. He takes a step back in return, and you grab his hands to make him stay put. His heart throbs, and he almost goes crashing down.

“I.. I don’t-“

You yank his hands, making him look back up at you. “Hey, Rui, I,” you look at him assuringly, “I wanna say something, and you can’t laugh okay?”

He holds his breath, so do you.

Fuck it, just tell him.

“I think I’m in love with you, Rui.” You gaze at him, the words shooting out faster than you can second guess them.

“I don’t-“ He breaks away, his fists balling up. You messed up, you think, you really, really messed up. “I’m not- I’m not going to- You can’t just say that because you got rejected. I- It wouldn’t be nice to- You don’t love me-“

“Rui,” you beg, grabbing his arm again, “holding hands on the way to school, cuddling while doing homework, knowing everything about eachother, these aren’t-“ You breath, “I’ve wanted somebody to love me for so long, Rui, and I was so blind to the fact that I was loved. But the love that I felt for you, - that I feel for you - Rui, isn’t the kind where I can be- where I can just be so- so normal about those things!” You monologue, saying whatever’s on your mind. You’re the rambling one now.

“I found myself comparing you to these piece-of-garbage dude’s I’m always with, wishing I could just date somebody like you instead! But now I realize that it is you-“

His heart falls into his gut, and he breaks free from you again. His hands move to his face, covering his eyes. His voice is broken and cracky as he begins to cry. “That was- you-“ He pulls you into a desperate embrace, arms holding you like you’ll disappear. “You shouldn’t, you’re wrong.” He sobs, “I’m- the way I love you is- You don’t understand, the way I feel isn’t normal I- My love is disgusting, and horrible, and depraved-“ He shakes, you rub his back. “You are so perfect compared to me, I’d never be able to- I love you so much, more than friends are supposed to, more than anyone’s supposed to at our age-“

“Rui, hey Rui please don’t cry.” You beg, smoothing out the ridges in his sweater. “I don’t- I don’t agree with that, and I can scream that at you, but I’m sure you won’t believe me. You’re not disgusting for feeling emotions different, Rui that’s what I love about you.”

“Stop- stop saying my name like that. It’s too hard to-“

“Rui, I love you. You don’t need to accept it, but I love you. More than being in love, more than being loved-“

“I love you, too,” his voice cracks, “that’s why I’m so scared. I don’t want to ruin a friendship that’s all I have, if this is just- I’m scared I’d lose you in any way, and I can’t live in a world where you don’t see me. I won’t. It’s sounds horrible but-“ He stops as you pull away from the hug, and wipes his face hastily. You put your pinky out, and his stomach drops again.

“C’mon, just like when we were kids. Pinky promise that no matter what, we’ll always see each other. That way you don’t need to worry anymore, y’know? I never break my kissy pinky promises, ever.”

Just like when you two were little.

He locks his with yours, just like you taught him all those years ago. He remembers your shared handshake for theater, he remembers your shared handshake for testing, and he remembers the song you two had to duet for choir - when you have forced him into it for a year. He holds everything of you so dear to his heart, you endear everything about him to you as well.

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

“I see you.”

“I see you, too.”

You two kiss your hands, then bring them down, still interlinked. You stare at him, and he stares back at you. In a moment of profound sincerity, you lean forward, and kiss him. It’s slow and gentle, and you unlock your hands half way through to hold his face, which he mirrors. His heart settles for the first time. You see him. He’s your moon, your earth, you’re his sun, his stars.

He’s suddenly alarmed by a quick pushing off of him, gasping out a “Rui!”

“I-“ he pants, wiping his mouth. “Hm?”

“we’re in the middle of a park!”

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luveline · 1 year ago

Note

hi i just got a haircut and feel very cute :) can i request r getting a haircut and the bau team fawning over it (with derek or spencer it’s up to you)

ty for ur request! this ended up being reader x the whole team, but heavily derek, and more subtly spencer !! fem!reader

cw readers hair was longer, and is now short

You take a deep, slow breath before you open the door that leads to the office. The first thing you see is Derek, to your horror, perched like he's waiting for you on the lip of his desk.

Hotch must have known the agony with which you'd be subjected sitting across from someone like Derekz and he did it anyway. Handsome, caring, flirtatious to a fault, it was a recipe for heartbreak in the making. You quite like your new haircut; if Derek or the others don't feel the same you'll be mortified.

You keep your head down as you walk to your desk. If you see Derek's expression, you'll lose all steam. You don't look up until you're close enough to smell his warm, understated cologne, raising a nervous hand to a button on your shirt.

"Hi, Morgan," you say.

"Oh, no, baby, we're on a first name basis," he says, raising his eyebrows at you. "Is this a joke?"

"Am I usually joking?" you ask weakly.

Derek shakes his head from side to side, crossing his arms over his chest, a ball of kinetic energy like the mere sight of you invigorates him. Safe to say he likes it, safer still when he brings a hand to his jaw and scrubs at it. "I don't even know what to say," he remarks, with all the intonation of a man disappointed.

He sighs tiredly and pulls his phone out of his pocket, hitting the first button on his speed dial. Within seconds he's been answered, the phone pressed to his ear. "Hey, babygirl. You better get to the bullpen stat. It's an emergency."

"Derek, you'll give her a heart attack!"

"Am I lying?" he asks.

"Let up, Morgan," Emily says, coming up behind you to squeeze your shoulders. "It looks amazing. When did this happen?"

"Why wasn't I informed?" Derek asks.

"Oh my god!" JJ cheer-whispers, a stack of case files in her arms as she approaches from her office. "You cut your hair! It looks so good, why didn't you say anything?"

"It was kind of a spur of the moment decision," you say, flushing from all the attention.

Derek's still pretending to be mad, though an undeniable appreciation lines his mouth. Frowny brows, poorly hidden grin.

"Spencer," Emily says, nudging a hyper-focused Spencer in the shoulder where he sits huddled at his desk.

Spencer looks up from his book and it promptly falls between his hands. He reaches down to grab it in a panic and smacks his forehead on the desk.

"Spence!" JJ yelps, rushing forward to help him. Her files slide out flat onto his desk as she pulls his head up. "Jesus, Spencer."

You're about to lend a hand when a familiar and bubbly voice shouts unashamedly across the bullpen. "Oh my god! Y/N? Y/N! Oh my god, you look so pretty!"

You spin on your heel to offer Penelope a thankful smile. "Pen, you said that before you even really saw it."

"I'm seeing it now, aren't I?" she asks, rushing forward in a cloud of curly blonde hair. The hot pink ruching on her corset top scratches your arms as she grabs you in a sideways hug. "We don't see you for a week and you cut all your hair off?"

"Hey– hey!" Derek says. "Don't act like this isn't the best thing to happen to this department since Prentiss joined. You were something else before," —Derek nods appreciatively, a low whistle escaping pursed lips— "but now? You better clear your schedule, baby. Me and you are going out."

"I think he's serious," Emily says, her jaw dropped.

You raise a hand to your eyes, completely overwhelmed by the chaos. "Is something wrong?" Hotch asks from the balcony, killing your stolen reprieve immediately. You look up to find him watching over you all with a boss brand of disapproval.

"Haircut," Penelope says nervously, pointing at your face.

Hotch visually notices your hair. His smile is genuine. "It looks nice," he says.

"Thank you, sir," you say, well and truly spent. In the best way possible, your team smothers you with love. If you'd known they'd react like this you would've cut your hair a long time ago.

Except for what it's done to poor Spencer, nursing a sizable red welt atop his eyebrows.

"You okay?" you ask, bending at the waist to smile at him apologetically.

The excitement must be getting to him too, his usually pale cheeks kissed by a rosy twinge. "I'm fine."

"Round table," Rossi suggests where he stands to Hotch's left, "before young Reid passes out."

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m1ckeyb3rry · 5 months ago

Note

I was wondering if you could make a part 2 to "the instrument"? I got invested reading it was so sad that it ended :(

I don't rlly know what I'm looking for but I loved the plot of that fic and I wanted to see it progress further (´；д；)

Like, it js ended with him giving her flowers, I wanted to see their love bloom more yknowww ಥ_ಥ

(Also is it weird that I see y/n as her own person?)

Synopsis: You were right from the start — Michael Kaiser has always been a dog, albeit perhaps not in the way you first meant it. (part one here!)

BLLK Masterlist

Pairing: Kaiser x Reader

Chapter Word Count: 4.5k

Content Warnings: fake dating trope, mentioned/implied/referenced abuse (both child and animal), call me tabito karasu the way i assassinate kaiser’s character in this, relationship dynamics many would consider…interesting…

A/N: EEK i feel like kaiser is so hard for me to do romance with but i tried my best!! and LMAOO this y/n is definitely a very interesting one so i can see why you got that sense 😭 but i’m glad you liked the instrument and ty for requesting 🥹 i hope this is somewhat satisfactory??

Additional: check my pinned post to make sure i have requests open; after reading the rules, please feel free to make your own!

You are quite certain that your mother was involved in this exercise, considering she’s the only one you can think of with a spare key to your house. So, when your phone call to Michael is sent immediately to voicemail, you don’t hesitate in dialing her number, knowing she’ll pick up immediately, as she always does.

The phone rings only once, and then she’s answering. There are voices in the background that are faint and muffled, which means either she’s watching a new drama or your father is watching some sports game. Then you detect the faint sound of cheers, and you conclude it must be the latter.

“Hello, Y/N,” your mother says. “Did you need something?”

She is very obviously trying to maintain an air of mysteriousness, as if she has no idea why you might be calling her, but the fact that she is putting on such an act makes it all the more obvious that it is just a facade. You’ve known for many years that your talent onstage is not a genetic one, though it does not stop your parents from pretending that it’s something you inherited from them.

“The flowers,” you say. “You put them there, didn’t you?”

She coughs. You don’t know if she’s disguising a laugh or if she’s just taken aback to that extent. Either way, you give her a moment to compose herself, for it’ll be a mess if you don’t. Your mother is like that, after all. If you inundate her with questions, she’ll respond to exactly none of them, so patience is the only method you have if you wish to obtain any measure of success.

“It wasn’t my own doing,” she says finally. You sigh.

“Of course, someone told you to, and I’m sure we both know who,” you say. “What did he say?”

“He meant well,” she says. “Are you angry with him? He seemed to think you might be. Anyways, he just told me to give them to you. It’s his way of saying sorry, I think. Or perhaps of saying something else. I’m afraid I can’t understand him the way you do. It’s magical, really, how you all but read his mind…”

“No one can read his mind,” you scoff. “He’s a convoluted man, and his thoughts are his own.”

“And you despise him because of that?” she prods, in a way that indicates she already knows the answer and is only asking for her personal satisfaction.

“I love him all the more for it,” you say shortly. Somehow, it’s worse saying it to your mother than it was with him. More real, maybe. Unable to be taken back. You don’t want to take it back, of course, but nevertheless, even if you did, you no longer can. It’s out in the world, now, and the world has a strange humor; it takes things one says even carelessly, without thought, and it turns them into undeniable, inescapable truth.

“Well,” she says. “That is a predicament.”

“There’s no predicament,” you say.

“He believes there is,” she says. “Right before he left, he—”

“Left?” you repeat. The flowers on your counter are arcing towards the sun, their petals unfurling towards the light pouring from your window. It’s a behavior more typical of flowers other than roses, but these roses are blue and they are Michael’s, so it stands to reason that they behave peculiarly. “Where did he go?”

“I couldn’t tell you,” she says. “He didn’t mention where he was going, just that he had to leave for a bit. But he looked sad. I mean, it’s difficult to tell with him, given how stoic he is, so I don’t know. Don’t take me at my word and start a fight about it.”

This is all you’re going to get out of her. You’re sure of it; there’s a wavering to her voice that signals she’s out of her depth. It’ll be unproductive and all but cruel if you continue to drill her, so you grit your teeth, squeezing your eyes shut and counting to three in your mind. Frustration is a wasted emotion, especially when the target of your frustration is somewhere far away, gone with nothing but a pot of flowers as a farewell.

That’s what it really is. Not an apology or a confession, but a goodbye. The fact that he thought to do it does mean something, but that meaning doesn’t outweigh the intention. So you make meaningless small talk with your mother and then your father, who she passes the phone to, and as soon as you can, you hang up and call another person, one who might be your only chance at finding the wandering stray that is Michael Kaiser.

Michael doesn’t really have friends, claims he doesn’t need them, but if there is one man who he might deign to bestow that title upon, it is his Bastard München teammate, Alexis Ness. They have been playing together since they were young, and so, if anything, there is an empathy between the two, although Michael will never admit it.

You’ve only met Alexis Ness a few times, at the various events which Michael used to drag you to when your relationship was still in the public eye. He’s never been anything but polite, albeit reserved, and on your third meeting, he gave you his phone number, telling you to call him if you ever ran into trouble. He had left the with Michael unsaid, but the implication had been there. You had thanked him and never called him since.

He’s quick to respond, like he was expecting the call — for all you know, he really was, though you would never ask either way. However, he does not speak first, so there is an awkward pause as you both wait for the other to say something.

“Good morning, Mr. Ness,” you say once a minute has gone by and he still has said nothing. “This is Y/N L/N. You gave me your number once.”

“Ah, Kaiser’s girlfriend,” he says. They have this habit, those soccer players, of referring to each other solely by last name. Your theory is that it’s to create distance, to avoid becoming close to a person who can be stolen by another team at any moment. You can’t fathom any other explanation. It’s a little sad to you, but you try not to judge, because there’s as many or more judgements that can be passed about your own lifestyle and habits.

“Yes,” you say.

“Are you calling to ask me where he went?” he says.

“I am,” you say. There’s no point in games. You don’t know Alexis Ness well enough to play them, and he seems to appreciate candidness, so the both of you are blunt in your conversations.

“I’m not supposed to tell you,” he says. “He swore me to secrecy.”

“I see,” you say. It’s disappointing, but it doesn’t come as a surprise. Michael is more than a little paranoid, so of course he took these ridiculous measures to cover his tracks.

“Nothing against you,” he says. “In fact, you should take it as a compliment. It sounded like there’s some messes he needed to clean up before he could bear to face you.”

“He’s horrible at cleaning,” you say.

“I don’t mean literal cleaning,” he says. It’s patient but also mocking. You roll your eyes, a silent form of retribution that he’ll never know of.

“Neither do I,” you say. Alexis Ness exhales heavily. Perhaps you’ve given him a migraine. It’s a particular skill of yours, or so you’ve been told.

“Berlin,” he says.

“Berlin?” you say.

“That’s where he is. If he asks, I’m not the one who told you,” he says, and then he’s ending the call before you can even thank him.

Berlin’s a big city, so Ness’s advice isn’t as helpful as he might’ve thought it would be, but at least it’s a start. Besides, for all his idiosyncrasies, Michael has a few patterns he follows with religiosity, so you tell your agent you’re going on a trip and silence your phone before he can call you and sputter protests about the impromptu nature of the semi-vacation.

The volunteers at the dog shelter tell you that Michael’s been there for the majority of the day. They’ve left him alone because they don’t know what to say; it’s not everyday that a celebrity wanders into such an establishment without so much as a word, and he’s remained relatively harmless, so they’ve continued about their daily business, ignoring him as best as they could when it became obvious he had no interest in speaking to them.

When you enter the kennel room, you find him sitting in front of one with a large hound in it. It has a pointed muzzle, and its tail does not wag at your approach, but it does lift its head and blink at you a couple of times before going back to sleep.

The cement floor is cold, but still you sit beside Michael, hugging your knees to your chest in a mirror of his position, careful not to touch him, thinking that he is wild enough to flee if you do. The hound lets out a soft breath. You notice that there are pink lines cutting through the black of its fur, marring its wide torso, shiny as the skin does its best to heal.

“She was seized from her owner,” Michael says. “The neighbors called the police one night when things got too loud.”

He’s not looking at you, but it’s obvious you’re the one he meant that statement for, so you shift closer to him, placing one hand on his arm. He flinches the tiniest bit, but when you try to pull away, he reaches up and stops you, holding your hand there, though he still refuses to turn away from the dog.

“Apparently, the guy got drunk and beat her,” he says. “She belonged to his wife, but once his wife died, he became an alcoholic, and that poor dog was the only one there to see it. I’m sure she tried to keep loving him at first, though. Even when she was frightened. Dogs do their best to love you, because they can’t understand that no matter how hard they try, it doesn’t matter. If someone wants to hate them, then all of the love in the world won’t be enough to stop that.”

He’s talking about the dog, but that’s not what he really means. That’s just how he is: he speaks in circuitous riddles to avoid ever saying anything plainly. Flowers and dogs — both are just methods of avoiding what he really wants to tell you.

“We can take her home,” you say. “Give her a different name and a place where she can be happy. Even if something has been hurt before, that doesn’t mean it has to hurt forever.”

His eyes lower, and then he stands, yanking you to your feet. Steadying you when you stumble, he lets go of you abruptly, frowning and turning away from the dog, who is awoken by the suddenness of the movement, flattening her ears against her head and shrinking back.

“She’s frightened of men now,” he says. “Has been ever since she was rescued. Bites every male that comes near her. I can’t blame her. If I were her, I’d do the same. Apparently, that means she’s not really adoptable. Not by us and not by anyone.”

The dog whines plaintively. You offer her the back of your hand through the bars of the kennel. She sniffs it before licking it carefully, and then she thumps her tail against her bed in approval — only one time, though, and then she’s standing, pacing in unhappy circles around the small kennel, which can hardly fit an animal of her size.

“I want her,” you say. “I don’t care if she isn’t adoptable. I want her.”

“Of course you do,” he says. He would sound aggravated, but there is a curious delight dancing in his eyes, a childish sort of joy that so rarely sparkles in those blue irises, so he completely doesn’t. “Of course you want her. You can’t stay away from hurt things, can you? Who told you I was here?”

“No one,” you say. “I figured it out by myself.”

He purses his lips, following after you as you make your way to the front desk. Disapproval rolls off of him in waves, but also something else. Something shriveled and cowering which is fighting desperately to crawl to the surface.

The volunteers are surprised to hear which dog you insist on taking, and they try to convince you to look at any of the more appealing ones — the puppies, or the well-trained retrievers that already have waitlists of potential adopters. You’re an actress, however, so they’ll put you at the top and give you whichever one you want. You tell them you know which one you want already, and eventually they give up on arguing, only frowning as you sign the litany of documents they produce, clicking their tongues and telling you that she’ll be difficult.

You respond that it’s fine. You’re used to difficult things; in fact, you think that you prefer them. They shake their heads and then you are told that your dog — yours, miraculously she is yours — will be ready for you to get her whenever you want.

Michael’s business in Berlin is not yet completed, you can sense it, so you tell them that you will return later and then you chase after his disappearing back, catching him by the sleeve of his coat in a narrow alleyway which leads to a theater.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he says. He’s gazing at a poster with a woman on it; she’s beautiful, with elfin features and flowing hair the color of gold. She’s also someone you recognize. “Fuck Ness. I know he told you. I’m going to kill him when I get back.”

“Leave him alone,” you say. “He didn’t tell me anything.”

“Sure,” he says. “Whatever.”

“Do you know her?” you say, pointing at the woman.

“Do you?” he shoots back. He’s crabby now, snapping easily and readily, though you’ve not really done anything to provoke him.

“Yes,” you say. It’s not the answer he had predicted, which you can tell because he whirls to glare at you instead of the movie poster. “Why are you surprised? We’re in the same industry. I was almost in a movie with her a while back, though it fell through because of an issue with the writers. She’s nice enough, I guess. I went to her wedding a couple of years ago, but other than that, I wouldn’t say we’re particularly close.”

“You…went to her wedding?” he says, and then, inexplicably, his fingers are weaving in between yours. It feels like he is holding onto you for something more than affection, so you stand as still as you possibly can, only humming in agreement.

“Yes, I did. Actually, she married her childhood sweetheart, which took everyone by surprise. It was commonly thought that she’d marry one or another of her costars, you see. She’s always been good at creating chemistry…people always say that she can make even a rock seem desirable, that’s how she is,” you say wistfully, leaning your head on his shoulder. He doesn’t shove you away, enraptured by the story. “It’s amazing to watch. But isn’t it kind of sweet? That despite how excellent she is at feigning affection, how she could’ve had any man in the world, she chose the boy from her youth? I remember talking to him. He has nothing, no money or connections or investments. She really just married him because he loves her for who she is.”

“Is love really all she wanted?” he says.

“I suppose it’s all that a lot of people want,” you say. “Rumor has it that she's pregnant.”

He stiffens against you. “What?”

“Well, I think she’s a little old for it, but it’s common for women in my line of work to wait until the signs of age are beyond concealment before they have children, so it’s not a shock,” you say.

“Why?’ he says.

“It’s the industry’s standards—” you begin before he cuts you off.

“No,” he says. “No, why is she — why does she want — why is she pregnant?”

“Isn’t it common for people to start a family eventually?” you say. “By the way, you never answered my question. Do you know her?”

“She’s my mother,” he says. The words are angry, but his tone is forlorn, his hand in yours cold and small. “But I’m — I’m not her son.”

He looks so wretched that you cannot help embracing him, and when he reciprocates in earnest and without pretense, you know that you have done the right thing. His breaths are fast and shaky, though he is not crying, and as much as you wish you had not said it, you believe deep down that it is important that you did.

Platitudes are meaningless. If you say it’s okay or something along those lines, you will be a liar, because the truth is that it’s not okay. You are not the one who can decide if it’s okay or not. You can only remain as you have been, motionless and gentle, stroking his back in the way one settles a restless infant, allowing his fingers to dig into your sides and his looming weight to collapse into you — for his sharpness is not borne of malice but helplessness, however loath to admit it he might be.

“Why?” he whispers. There’s a million questions he could be asking, and none of them are ones you can ever answer for him, but that will not stop him. “Why couldn’t it be me? Why couldn’t she be happy with me? I would have loved her. I would have been her family.”

“A lot of people don’t deserve children,” you muse. “Or love, or many other such happinesses. And still more people cannot understand the importance of these things when they are within their grasp. Your mother must’ve been very young when she had you. It’s easy to be blinded by stardom and glamor and fairytales at that age. It’s easier still to abandon everything for just a taste of the spotlight. There’s a school of thought that fame is impossible to attain without that necessary sacrifice.”

“What about you?” he says.

“I’m not an exception,” you say ruefully. “Any normal person would have hung up on you when you first called, Michael. I’m only lucky in that it was you and not anyone else on the other end of the line. It’s only because I know you that I realized there are more important things in this world than celebrity and popularity. Once I would’ve spurned the thought of obscurity, but now, if I can have you, then I wouldn’t even mind it so much. It’s the same conclusion your mother must have reached.”

“It’s too late,” he says. “She reached it too late.”

“Yes,” you say. “Yes, she did reach it too late, but it’s easier to give this kind of life up once you’ve known it than to never have it at all. That’s the only reason why. She was greedy, and you bore the consequences.”

“It’s not fair,” he says. You’ve never heard him like this. Normally, he’d laugh at the mere thought of such vulnerability, but the gray of the city has clearly twisted him into a wounded and fragile version of himself, prone to shattering, made of a glass that is already jagged at the edges and can hardly keep together because of it. “It’s not fair, it’s not — I hate her, and I hate him, and I hate her stupid new family, and I —I—”

He silences himself, obviously unsure of what to say, and then he holds your face in his hands, giving you a pleading stare. Help me, he seems to beg. Tell me what to do. He is lost, and somehow you have become a map of sorts, or a compass, one which points in a direction he has no choice but to follow.

“Why did you come here?” you say. “When you knew it would hurt you, why did you come?”

“I wanted to remind myself,” he says. “For a second, you even convinced me that I was worthy of being — you know. So I had to come back. I had to see with my own eyes the kind of person I really am. If my mother and my father and my entire damn city hate me, then why should you be any different?”

He’s scared that he will hurt you, and that you will hurt him, and that he will be alone again, as he has been for much of his life. For all his brashness, his bravado, his smugness and his smooth way of speaking in public, he’s never really been anything more than a little boy who’s frightened, who presses against the back wall of his enclosure like that beaten hound did.

“You know that I am different,” you say. “I am not your mother, nor your father. I will leave everything behind but you. In fact, I’ll leave it for you. Tell me to and I will.”

“What if I tell you to quit acting?” he says.

“Then I will retire at once,” you say. “I already have more money than I know what to do with.”

“And if I tell you to move across the world?” he tries, resting his forehead against yours. “Would you do that, despite your entire life being here?”

“Yes,” you say. “I am quick at making friends and learning new things, so I will adapt to it.”

“What about if I tell you to marry me?” he says. His lips are so close to yours that he is speaking against your mouth, but he doesn’t try to kiss you yet.

“You wouldn’t ask?” you say.

“I don’t ask for things,” he says.

“Naturally, I’d marry you,” you say. “There isn’t anyone else I’d ever want, anyways. We’d have the most beautiful wedding in the world, and we’d only invite the people we like.”

“That’s a short list,” he says. His heartbeat is calming down; it’s a temporary solution, but if it manages to distract him, then you’ll indulge the flight of fancy.

“My parents,” you say.

“Ness,” he says.

“I always knew you liked him,” you say.

“Only because I have to,” he says.

“Anyone else?” you say.

“No,” he says. “That’s it. We can even forget about all of those people, actually. I just want it to be the two of us. Nobody else matters but — but you.”

He’s stuttering as he comes to his senses. These declarations aren’t typical of him, as foreign as French on his tongue, but he’s making them anyways. He’s been fighting the compulsion for a while, you can tell, but it’s hard for him to keep fighting on all fronts of his life. Eventually, one side will give. You are glad that it is your side, that you are the one he has given to, no matter how reluctantly he has done it.

“Is there anything else you’d like?” you say. “All of these are easy for me to do. Ask for something difficult, so that I may prove to you that I am telling the truth, that I mean what I say.”

“It’s not a request, but a condition,” he says.

“You only need to name it,” you say.

“If I hurt you, then you have to run,” he says. “Run so far away that I can never reach you. Even though it’ll hurt me, I want you to run. Even though I’ll beg for you to stay, please leave.”

That’s it, then. The most difficult thing he can imagine a person doing: leaving someone they love. Certainly he is unable to do it. It doesn’t matter if he’s suffering. He’ll suffer longer just to stay by your side, just as he suffered for all of those many years as a child.

It’s how you know he loves you more than he’ll ever let on. He holds you in such esteem that he’ll let you leave him if you have to, though it’ll indubitably destroy him, destroy him more than staying could ever destroy you. Yet still he is giving you that permission, commanding it, even, because he’d rather destroy himself than let even the slightest harm befall your being.

You can only draw that conclusion because you know that he will never, can never, hurt you. He isn’t saying this as a warning, because it isn’t an inclination that he has. No, it’s a dark and ugly voice in the back of his mind — does it sound like his father’s? You feel that it must — insisting that he will do it, he will. He’ll hurt you. He’s the reason that his mother left and his father became something sick, and he’ll be the reason that you are broken and ruined and torn apart. He’ll do it. He’ll be the one to do it, it’s inevitable, he’ll scratch you with his thorns and gnaw at your remains with his fangs and maybe he’ll even cry during the act but he’ll still do it.

“Alright,” you say, though you want to protest that he is incapable, because it’s clear that he is testing you. Every argument which might fall from your lips, he has heard before, and if you dare utter them one more time, it’ll be the proof that you are lying. The way his thoughts work, the paths that they follow, they are winding and narrow, but perhaps your mother is right — perhaps you are coming to understand them.

“Do you think that I can?” he says.

“No,” you say. “The fact that you worry about it tells me that you won’t. You are better than that, Michael.”

“You really believe that?” he says. “With everything you are, you believe it?”

“I do,” you say.

You almost can’t believe it, but he laughs. Well, calling it a laugh is generous, it’s really more of an exhale, yet one which is unquestionably seeping with amusement, and you’re about to ask him what he finds so funny when he was so close to breaking down mere moments earlier, but he stops you before you can.

“I do,” he says. It’s an odd thing to repeat, but a second later your mind registers why he’s done it, and then the corners of your lips are curving up.

In the streets of Berlin, the two of you are alone; his mother’s poster is your only witness, but if she takes some offense, she remains smiling and silent, her gaze far away as her son — who isn’t her son, he isn’t hers at all, he’s yours and only yours — finally closes the minuscule gap between you both and kisses you fully.

#kaiser x reader #kaiser x y/n #kaiser x you #michael kaiser #bllk x reader #bllk #blue lock #reader insert #fake dating #m1ckeyb3rry requests #m1ckeyb3rry writes

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yourscaryboo · 6 days ago

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FELLOW LESBIAN COUNCIL

It has come to my attention about the CaitVi with M*n and I have a few words that thou would like the spew.

Yk how hard it is to get rep in this day and age, we’re either sexualized or like censored, the shit is crazy 😭 like you can’t be in a film without being called a dyke or lusted over.

Like It’s insane! But anyways if you see people saying they don’t get it or like why is it such a big deal when characters get HC as gay or something. 1. They’re straight or 2. Their men. There isn’t no in between sorry to say it but it’s true. Not only that but they’re upset over a LITTLE headcannon. like you’ll got all this straight fanart and goon art but when it comes to us.

It’s suddenly No, you’re a dyke, or you’re ruining a character, or even WITCH 🫵

So excuse us for being upset that you’re tying to make lesbian characters straight, like that’s the only type of rep we have while straight people have everything so I have one word for Straight men, Are you done yet??? You get all these bad bitches in Art/Comics/Ect. Is that not enough???

Like you get more bad bitches than Lesbians or Gays do it’s actually insane, y’all know y’all are the main targets of any type of film so why are you mad about Jinx being gay, if they write Jinx eating pussy that’s okay! At the end of the day who do you see her with the most??

A. men B. men C. men or D. men

If you chose Men, you’d Be correct! Now stop being dickheads to lesbian characters by degrading and making them see worthless when you know deep down half of these characters would whoop yo motherfuckin ass and that’s okay. If Canon straight men get shipped with other men, ITS OKAY. Why? because there is more art with them with women than it is with men.

Can I get an Amen?? 🙏

Now Lesbian Council, someone make a community and let’s get posting gay people and our fanfics, make sure you put in like ages and shit. !don’t want to get cancelled! 🤝

Y’all know, I love you fellow Lesbians and you know I cherish you more than anyone could, so look at me when I say this. You’re beautiful and just because a few CIS men are upset about ONE thing we change about a character I want you to know, we still win at the end of the day and Rizz up the lesbian baddies as you please I’ll be in the back cheering you on. Being like “Go get you some coochie girl!” 📢

Now give your little sis/ big sis a hug! 🫂

I love you pumpkin and the men who are reading this or see, yeah I know what you are, don’t have to lie about having a little sugar in your tank. I don’t judge, if that’s what you want more power to you hunny just don’t be a pd or someone weird, that’s all.

#jinx x reader #vi x reader #caitlyn x reader #sevika x reader #honest opinion #lesbiansarise #abby anderson x reader #ellie x reader #arcane

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laurenairay · 2 months ago

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A reason to start over new - T. Jost

Summary: It’s been five years since Lucy has seen her ex-boyfriend Tyson. Can his grandparents’ Christmas party fix their broken hearts?

Happy birthday @senditcolton! This is my fic for your birthday bingo – I had a lot of fun with this one! I chose The Hand Touch, Exes to Lovers, Free Space (Resolved Angst), “You’re Too Good for Me”, and Winter Romance, making it a full bingo! Hope you have a wonderful day Nicole.

A massive thank you to @jostyriggslover96 for reading through this!

Words: 3.3k

Warnings: angst, flashback to breakup, some bad language, self-deprecation.

Title from The Reason, by Hoobastank

I've found a reason for me, To change who I used to be, A reason to start over new, And the reason is you.

“Oh wow, Val and Jim have really outdone themselves this year, haven’t they?”

Lucy glanced around at the Christmas decorations surrounding them, smiling at her mom’s words.

“Full of holiday cheer, as always!” she nodded.

She took off her thick coat and gloves, glad to be out of the icy air, hanging them up on the rack put out for guests.

“Now honey, if it’s too much, you can slip out back and head home, okay?” her mom said seriously, albeit quietly.

“You said that last year. And the year before that. For the last five years, actually,” Lucy mused.

“And I’ve meant it every year. They might be our neighbours, but you are my baby. And my priority, always,” her mom said seriously.

Not for the first time, Lucy was thankful to have the mom she did.

“And I appreciate it. But I’m going to be fine,” she said, smiling fondly.

“Alright, if you’re sure. You just send me a sneaky text if you change your mind though, yes?”

“Yeah, thanks mom,” Lucy beamed.

The Christmas Eve Party thrown by her neighbours was a tradition she’d attended her entire life, and even though she hadn’t dated their grandson in half a decade, Val and John had always insisted that she still came along. A lingering effect of being childhood sweethearts, she supposed.

“Amy! Gary! Lucy!”

The welcome from their neighbours was warm and effervescent as it always was, and soon enough Lucy found herself swept in by conversation and catching up. She may have gone to college in UBC Okanagan in Kelowna for both her degrees, barely away from home, but she’d lived in campus residence for all four years of her bachelor’s degree and moved out of her parents’ house properly into a small apartment near campus for her master’s degree. It would’ve been easy to move home after guaranteed accommodation ended, but Lucy had wanted to keep the independence she had grown to love, and it wasn’t as if she didn’t visit her parents at least every other weekend.

But it was still nice to be able to talk about her accomplishments with the people that she’d grown up alongside, especially now that she was in the final year of her master’s degree and looking like she was on track for starting the PhD she’d always aimed for.

After a couple of hours, she escaped the crowds in the living and dining areas, grateful for the sanctuary of the kitchen. There were a few plates of cookies and other Christmas treats laid out, and Lucy couldn’t resist reaching out for a snickerdoodle…

…at the exact time as someone else.

She jumped in surprise as a large hand rested on top of hers, not realising anyone was next to her, but as she looked up, she couldn’t but to freeze despite the warmth of his touch. Tyson. It was Tyson’s hand touching hers.

“Oh fuck, I’m sorry, I…Lucy?”

“Hey Tys,” she managed to breathe.

The familiar curls, the big beautiful eyes, the sweet smile, and now a little bit of stubble? He looked good. Of course he looked good.

Tyson quickly drew his hand away from hers, breaking her out of her thoughts.

“Uh, you have it, I shouldn’t be eating baked goods too much anyway,” Tyson said, rubbing the back of his neck a little sheepishly.

Lucy pursed her lips and broke a third of the snickerdoodle off, handing it to Tyson with a raised eyebrow. Tyson huffed out a laugh but accepted the offered treat, sending her a small smile of thanks. Fuck, it may have been five years since they broke up, but he really hadn’t changed, had he?

“So, uh, you still come to these parties?” Tyson asked.

Lucy bit her bottom lip but nodded.

“Yeah, your grandparents insist. I hope that’s okay,” she winced.

“Of course it is,” Tyson said quickly, “They always loved you.”

Well that was something at least. Why did this feel so awkward? Sure, it had been five years since she’d seen Tyson, but they dated from eight years – surely they had more than this?

“I don’t usually come to these. Well, I guess you already know that, if you come every year. I, uh, I have the 24th to the 26th off this year, so I didn’t want to miss another Christmas with my grandparents,” Tyson explained.

“I bet Val and Jim were over the moon when you told them,” Lucy mused.

Tyson laughed softly, nodding. “They were. Mom and Kacey didn’t hesitate to come to Kelowna to join us, so it’s a big family Christmas this year.”

“That’s great, Tys. Really. Spending Christmas with your loved ones is important,” she said softly, smiling.

His smile dimmed a little, but he nodded.

“How’s, uh, how’s your degree going? Gramps said you’re doing a master’s now?”

He knew that? Did he ask? Or did Jim just tell him?

“Uh, yeah. I graduated my bachelor's degree magna cum laude back in 2020 and went straight into starting my graduate program there. I’m a paid teaching assistant for my supervisory professor too.”

“That’s incredible, Luce. Still doing Earth and Environmental Sciences?” Tyson prompted.

He remembered? After all this time?

“Yeah, yeah it is. Focusing in on environmental impact assessment for my master’s thesis,” she nodded, a little stunned, “I didn’t think…I didn’t think you’d remember.”

“Of course I remember. You were always so passionate about your studies – it was one of the things I loved most about you,” he said softly.

“Tyson…” Lucy said faintly, trailing off when no words would come.

He smiled sadly at her, shaking his head.

“Sounds like…it sounds like everything was worth it for you,” Tyson murmured.

2019

“So you can’t make it over?”

“No, Tys, I can’t, I have labs to do,” Lucy sighed.

“We haven’t seen each other in so long!”

“I can’t just not go to my classes because you want me in Denver! You know this!” she groaned.

“I know, I know, but it sucks.”

Lucy frowned, even though he couldn’t see her. “You’re the one who didn’t come home for Christmas, remember?”

“The schedule didn’t make sense, and I offered to fly you down?”

“Tyson!” she groaned.

He stayed silent on the other end of the phone, a silence that sent an ominous shiver down her spine.

“So where do we go from here?”

“W-What?” she said, confused at the dull tone of his voice.

“Your priority is college, my priority is hockey, and neither of us can compromise. I would never ask you to compromise, just like you wouldn’t ask me. We have different priorities, clearly. So where do we go from here?”

“Tyson, are you really saying what I think you’re saying?” she whimpered.

“Yeah, I think we should break up.”

“We’ve been together for eight years! You’re the only boyfriend I’ve ever had, the only guy I’ve ever wanted. And you want to break up, just like that?”

“I don’t want to break up, Luce. But what other option do we have? Neither of us can give the other what we need right now. We have to focus on ourselves, don’t we? For our own careers? You have so much ahead of you and I can’t be there to celebrate it. And you can’t be by my side cheering me on from the stands. I love you, Lucy. But this isn’t working anymore.”

“Tyson, why would you say it like that? You think it’s been easy for me?” Lucy asked, throat a little choked.

“No, no, of course not,” he groaned.

“Then what do you mean?”

“Look, forget I said anything, okay? It was really good to see you, Luce.”

Before Lucy could say a word, Tyson walked away, leaving her alone in the kitchen with her head spinning. What the hell was that?

For the final few hours of the party, Lucy indulged in a couple more glasses of wine than she intended, sticking solidly by her parents’ sides. She did her best to keep a smile on her face and ease into the Christmas festivity, even when Laura and Kacey said their hellos, but her mind just kept going back to Tyson.

“We’re going to start saying our goodbyes, okay honey? Why don’t you find all our coats.”

Lucy just nodded at her mom’s suggestion, grateful for the opportunity to escape the crowd. Well, she was grateful, until she saw Tyson sitting on the bench next to the coat rack, face flushed and eyes glassy. He was drunk, at least moderately so.

“Ah, fuck, I didn’t want you to see me like this,” he said, voice slurring.

What did he mean by that?

“I’m just getting our coats. We’re heading out,” she murmured, trying to ignore the whoosh in her stomach.

“Already?”

“It’s nearly midnight, Tys,” she said, smiling wryly.

“Well, fuck. Time flies when you’re having whiskey, I guess,” he groaned, putting his empty glass on the bench next to him.

She huffed out a laugh, unhooking the coats when she finally spotted them.

“You look good, Luce,” he murmured, looking up at her through his eyelashes.

“I do?” she blurted.

Damn it.

But Tyson just grinned. “Yeah, you really do. You always looked good, but damn you’ve really settled into your own skin, eh?”

“I love who I am, yeah,” she nodded.

She wasn’t lying, or even placating. Her studies in environmental impact had opened up a whole new side of her she hadn’t even realised was there, and she loved everything about the person she’d become through it. She just hadn’t realised it was obvious on the outside.

Then again, if anyone was going to notice something like that about her, it was going to be Tyson, wasn’t it?

“You’re too good for me.”

Oh fuck.

“That’s not true. Not even slightly,” Lucy said, frowning.

“No? I can barely get a team to keep me, and you’re soaring ahead with your academic career, just like you deserve,” Tyson scoffed.

This was just the alcohol talking. It had to be.

“Tys, those teams are the ones missing out. You’re amazing,” she said softly.

He paused for a moment, before shaking his head.

“If I’m so amazing, why did we break up?”

Because he had to put hockey first.

Because she had to put college first.

Because neither of them were each other’s first choice.

“That’s not fair, Tyson. We were kids when we first started dating. Barely 13 years old. And we were together for eight years! We had an incredible relationship! It just…we wanted different things. Our priorities were different, our passions were different – we might have grown up together, but we’d also grown apart. Your life is hockey and my life is academics, and that’s okay! That doesn’t mean we didn’t have love, yeah?”

The way that Tyson’s eyes filled up with tears made her own eyes water, dangerous lump rising in her throat.

“If I could go back and change it all, I would. I’d choose you. I’d always choose you.”

His soft words tore a sob from her throat and she shook her head. How could he be so cruel?

“Don’t say that. We made the right decision five years ago and you know it,” she whimpered.

Tyson’s face fell at her devastated expression, and he staggered to his feet.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. I’m sorry,” he said sadly.

And yet here she was, broken hearted all over again.

“I should go. I need to go,” was all she could manage to choke out.

“Lucy, baby, please…”

But Lucy just shook her head, clutching the coats in her hands, shaky smile on her lips as the tears finally fell. “Merry Christmas, Tyson.”

“So what happened at the Christmas Eve Party that has you all torn up like this?”

Lucy flinched at her mom’s voice, turning her head to see her standing in the doorway to her bedroom.

“Nothing,” she said quickly.

“Uh huh, and I’m a fairy princess,” her mom snorted.

Lucy couldn’t help but giggle, earning a fond smile as her mom walked into the room and sat down next to her on her bed. Lucy placed a bookmark in the book she’d been reading to give her mom her full attention. She’d needed a little respite from all the preparations to hold her dad’s family for a late lunch, after all the intensity of having her mom’s family over yesterday on Christmas Day, but she’d found herself reliving her conversation with Tyson over and over.

“Sounds like…it sounds like everything was worth it for you.”

“You’re too good for me.”

“If I’m so amazing, why did we break up?”

“If I could go back and change it all, I would. I’d choose you. I’d always choose you.”

So really, her mom coming up to talk to her was a welcome break from all of that as well.

“If you know it was the Christmas Eve Party then you can take a guess,” Lucy said, shrugging.

“I’d rather hear it from you, when Tyson’s involved,” her mom mused.

Well at least her mom was blunt about it.

“We had a couple of conversations, and it stirred up old emotions, old drama. He…mom, he said he’d go back and change it all if he could. That he’d always choose me. What am I supposed to do with that?”

Her mom blinked a couple of times, lips parted in a surprised, before she coughed out a laugh.

“Well I could never accuse Tyson of being subtle.”

“Mom, seriously. This is stressing me out. I can’t stop thinking about it,” Lucy groaned.

“I think that’s an answer in itself, sweetheart,” she said softly.

“What?”

Her mom stayed silent, just nudging Lucy with her shoulder, and Lucy nudged back out of habit. What did she mean, that was an answer in itself?

“Lucy, honey, if you can’t stop thinking about Tyson choosing you above everything else, that means something,” her mom eventually said with a huffed laugh.

“But how can it? He still has his hockey, and I still have academics. Neither of those are going to change any time soon,” Lucy said sadly.

Because at the end of the day, that was the bottom line of it all. Their priorities haven’t changed.

“Just because your both still have your passions doesn’t mean that they have to be your only love. You can have both,” her mom said firmly.

What?

“How can I have both?” Lucy asked, confused.

“Do you love him?” was all she said.

“What?” Lucy said, surprised.

“Do you love him?” her mom repeated.

Lucy opened her mouth, shutting it again before huffing out a laugh. There was only one answer to that.

“Yeah, I never stopped,” she replied.

“Then you can have both. You spent the last five years missing him, and I know damn well that that boy missed you too - neither of you deserve that for another second. You can have both,” her mom said decisively.

She could have both?

How could she have both?

“You love him.”

“I love him,” Lucy whispered.

“Go get him.”

Lucy whimpered as she looked into her mom’s eyes, but she only saw warmth and encouragement. Her mom was right. She loved Tyson. She loved Tyson and if seeing him again this Christmas had taught her anything, it was that she was stupid if she tried to deny how much she missed him. If she didn’t tell him now, when would she?

“He leaves today. I need to go now,” she said suddenly.

“Well damn, okay then. Put on a sweater and I’ll find your snow boots,” her mom grinned.

Lucy felt like she was in a haze as she walked as quickly down the street as was safe, heart pounding as she spotted Tyson loading bags into his grandpa’s car.

“Tyson!”

His head whipped around at her shout, eyes going wide as he saw her walking towards him. Tyson shuffled down the driveway, missing Jim’s fond smile as he himself went back into the house, and the moment that she was standing in front of him, Tyson cupped his hands over her elbows to steady her.

“What are you doing here?”

“I love you,” she breathed.

Tyson whimpered, but Lucy wasn’t discouraged, not when she saw the wonder that filled his expression.

“You love me?”

“I love you. I love you so much and I can’t stop thinking about everything you said the other night,” she blurted out.

“Luce, I’m sorry, I know I upset you but…”

“No, Tys, it’s okay,” Lucy said, shaking her head as she interrupted, “While I stand by what I said, that we made the right decision at the time, maybe we could make a different decision now?”

“What are you saying?”

She could understand his hesitation, really she could. It wasn’t as if she wasn’t coming out with this out of the blue, after five years of nothing at all. After five years of heartbreak and heartache. But her mom was right – she missed him so fiercely and she couldn’t bear the thought of him not knowing that.

“I want us to start over new. I never stopped loving you, not for one moment. We could have both. We could have our passions and our love, and I hate that it’s taken me this long to even consider that? I miss you and I love you and I know you’re heading to the airport to fly back to Raleigh, but tell me I’m not crazy for thinking we could do this?”

Tyson’s jaw dropped as he processed her long rant, and it was only his firm grip on her elbows that stopped her from giving up hope.

“That was a lot,” Tyson said.

She winced. “I know, but…”

“And you poured out a lot of emotion there,” he interrupted.

Lucy kept her mouth shut this time, as much as she wanted to beg him to say more.

“It’s been agony for five years, for so many reasons, but hearing you say that you love me and you want to give our relationship another shot? I just…”

Tyson trailed off, letting out a long breath.

“I understand if I’m too late,” she murmured.

But Tyson huffed out a laugh, raising one hand from her elbow to cup her face in a gentle motion that had her breath hitching in her throat.

“There is no world in which you’d be too late,” Tyson said softly.

“Really?”

“I love you too, Lucy. I never stopped either,” he murmured.

She couldn’t stop the incredulous laugh that tumbled from her lips, smiling back up at Tyson as he smiled at her.

“We’re really doing this?” she asked, giddy.

“Yeah, baby, we are. I don’t know how we’re going to do this, or what it’s going to look like, but we’re both adult enough to know how to put in more effort this time round right, yeah? I’ll fly home for the all-star break, and I’ll fly you out for spring break, and we’ll have video calls that neither of us are going to miss. And everything else. We’re going to make it work this time,” he said, tone serious but face grinning.

“And we’re going to communicate, yeah? When one of us is finding it hard? We’ll find little compromises, as we can’t do the big compromises. We’re worth it,” Lucy added, not caring that her cheeks were aching with her smile.

“Yeah, we are. I love you, so much Lucy,” Tyson grinned.

“I love you too.”

Tyson didn’t waste any time in leaning down to press his lips to hers, their last first kiss.

#my writing #tyson jost fic #nicole's b-day bingo #tyson jost x reader #tyson jost imagine #tyson jost fanfic #nhl fic #nhl imagine #hockey fic #hockey fanfic

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kuni-is-daddy · 2 years ago

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Thinking about Scara making us rub his cock with our pussy until we both cum

DOM! BOSS SCARAMOUCHE X FEMALE BODYGUARD READER.

100 followers special AHH OMFG TY.

PURE FILTH.

Juicy stuff: Grinding,Recording, at a desk :<, Yandere themes

Featuring: CHILDE, he's your bestie in the start :) had so much fun writing Childe in this KKLMK I LOVE HIM❤️❤️😩

1.2K WORDS.

amazing art credits! Scara masterlist Part 1 of Boss scara.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

Stillness, Silence. The complete opposite of thunder. And that was his mother, The raiden shogun. God of thunder. Rumors spread around the elaborate 'Gakaden' company that once again her excellency has cancelled another meeting with her son. Its been 200 years since he's last seen her, heard her voice. Scaramouche was only able to rejoice in the sweet sent she left from each letter that was sent in her fluid handwriting.

"Y/n Y/n!" Childe said while tapping your shoulder. "Ah! Childe!! you scared me. Dont sneak up on me like that!" you nudged his shoulder in return. "Hah hah. sorry comrade~ anyway. Did you hear about scara?" you closed the book, bookmarking where you left off. "Yeah our Excellency is quite the busy woman. At least now i can catch up on my book" you smiled. "Why'd you ask? Is everything okay?" You gave a concerned look and the ginger then laughed at you. "Well the thing is.....IM GOING BACK HOME!!!" he took out a picture of teucer and the rest of his siblings. They we're wearing christmas sweaters while holding a 'welcome home' sign. "oh shit really!? your going back to snezhnaya? Thats great childe! how long are you going to be gone?" "hmm probably a month or two. Scara said we needed a break." Childe said "We? what do you mean by we?" You looked at him suprised. "Soo...You dont know gurly?" You gave a straight face. "No- I dont know GUrLy" "Scara is giving us a month off from work. He said something about wanting time to himself and-- I dont know the rest. To be honest, all i know is that we come back next month on the 30th." You scanned the room to see your fellow co-workers organizing their desks and holding boxes in their hands. "Seriously!? Thats great! That means i can go back home and-" Suddenly. The intercom rang with a short beep.

"If Y/N L/N Is still present in the building, Please report to Lord Scaramouche's Office Immediately!"

You tilted your head at the request. "Oooo did you get in trouble y/n??" "No? Or at least.. I hope not." You got up and placed your book back on your desk. Sighing at the sudden realization you we're gonna be by yourself without your 'best friend' for another month. "hey hey.. Cheer up okay? Its only a month and besides. WE CAN ALWAYS TEXT!!" childe waved his phone in your face, your sad expression then turning into a happy one. "HEY THERE GURLY-" "YOU LOOK WELL" "CARE TO EXCHANGE.." "NOTES?" The both of you giggled and then hugged eachother one final time. "Im gonna miss you so much ajax~" "of course, The one time you say my name its when im leaving-."

The intercom rang again. "Y/N... L/N.... REPORT TO LORD SCARAMOUCHE'S OFFICE IMMEDIATELY." now with a more nervous tone then ever. "God. Wonder whats going on over there they need me so bad." "Well..Ill be seeing you Comrade. Take care for me okay?" He gave you a kiss on the forehead, ending it off with you two doing your signature handshake as he walked out of the company.

While climbing the many floors you eventually made it to the 13th floor. Your master's office. You slowed down your stroll in the long cold dark hallway at the sound of pleads and yells. "P-PLEASE LORD SCARAMOUCHE.. I DONT KNOW WHERE SHE IS. I ASKED THROUGH THE WHOLE BUILDING TWICE, HAVE MERCY-" It sounded like the woman on the intercom. "Twice? I said bring her to my fucking office. Not call her, Not ASK around for her. Bring her. But you cant even do your goddam job." you put your hand against the doorknob, conflicting weather you should intervene or not. "Your nothing. Do you know that? Nobody special. I dont care about your family, Your kids, Or your life. Under me, Your just someone i hired for my mothers sake. Just a worker. Replaceable like the rest of the humans in here." You turned the doorknob, hoping to intervene in what sounded like the potential murder of your co-worker. She was being held by her throat, hovering over the balcony while scara held his signature katana in his other hand. "KUNI- STOP!" he turned his head immediately at the use of that name. The woman fell, gasping for air while recklessly running for her life out of the building.

"Hm. So you are here, Close the door." he dropped his blade in its stand and walked towards you. You closed the door, making sure it was locked and immediately turned your head. "Kuni? What the hell was that? Why did you try to KILL that woman??" He rubbed his hand along your shoulder. "Does it realllyyy matter baby? I can just hire a new one you know." he scoffed. "Kuni. Humans arent replaceable. You cant just KILL someone like that." "Mhm..Your right. Cant replace you and that sexy body of yours~" He grew closer to you, Placing your hand against his tie. "W-well..You wont have to worry about me. Or Ajax leaving..Anyway..Why did you call me in here- Master." He pulled away at your change in tone. If theirs one thing that drove kuni crazy about you, is how persistent you we're with work. Still managing to stay perfessional. He sat back behind his desk, Clicking his pen with a laid back expression. "Not in a good mood today pet, Was hoping you could change that f' me~" The balcony door was still open a bit behind him, the warm summer air breezed through the room. Making you tug at your own suit with how hot it started to feel, How intimidating he looked from across the room as you stood at the door. "O-okay..Where do you want me to go master? Do you want to go out to eat? I just have to get my case and-" he sighed and began unzipping his pants.

"Come here and ill show you~" You we're nervous at how intimate he sounded but reluctantly walked towards him. He looked you up and down, noticing how similar your outfit was to his. How your hips curved around the belt. "Want you to sit..Right here..." He rubbed his hands against his thighs, Motioning for you to sit. "B-but we shouldnt do it here- theirs people still working kuni-" He sucked his teeth at your remark. "You think i fucking care Pet? dont want to make master more mad do you?" "N..no..I dont." You closed the blinds to the balcony, remembering how you almost witnessed another womans murder infront of your eyes.. over you. You faced scara and blushed. Turning your head away while stripping each piece of clothing off of you until you wore nothing but lacey black lingerie. "God..You look so hot in those.." he groaned as you hovered over his cock. positioning your pussy right against it, "Grind on daddys cock. Fuck yes~" He threw his head back as your hands held onto the chair for stability.

"A-am i doing good for you master...?" he pressed his hands against your ass, slapping them as they made contact "AH~" "Hell yeah.. Your doing so good' want you wet for me." He shifted his hands towards your underwear, slowly making them shift down so he could see your clit. "K-kuni! what are you doing.." "Ugh~ turn your head back up- Wanna feel your clit rubbing against me" He pulled your underwear down, Repositioning you so your clit rubbed against his big length, Teasing you as your hole ached for him to be inside of you. "Master~ Your so big..hah..." "Yeah you like that pet? Like how good it feels against you?" Wet stains started to emerge on his pants as you grinded faster against him, Chasing the burning feeling he gave you. "K-kuni~ Feels so' good~ Please..fuck me.." you shifted your grip away from the chair, now tightly holding onto him instead. "Mmm dont think thats good enough love, Beg for it." Begging. Kuni always made you beg and scream for him, He loved hearing how desperate you we're for him to fill you up. To claim you as his. Watching as you cried in frustration when he'd pull out just when your about to cum. "K-KUNI~ PLEASE M' SO CLOSE" "Shit~ keep moaning like that, cum for daddy, cum for me. and ill fuck you. Fuck~ hah...bounce those tits for me. You look so fucking good~" he slowly pulled his phone out, Recording how your tongue stuck out for him and your tits bounced. How you looked like a dog in heat. "Fuck..Thats it y/n Dont stop, dont fucking stop." "AH~ K-KUNI M' GONNA CUM~ KUNI!!!!!!!!"

Your juices squirted all over kuni's pants as he came at the same time as you. You looked up to notice him recording you and covered your face in embarassment. "Mmm... is my little slut embarassed? god look at the fucking mess you made." He let his phone fall down on the floor. Roughly grabbing you and placing you against the desk. "K-Kuni! Dont be so- MMM~" he tied his tie around your mouth. Throwing his clothes onto the floor and picking up his phone once again. "Shit...Cant get enough of you y/n~ love how this pussy is all mine~ are you mine pet?" you nodded your head with no hesitation.

"Fuck yes. Im gonna break you."

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mentally-gone002 · 5 months ago

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is it too early to love you? - final part (7)

(moodboard made by moi)

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7

summary: reader and spencer meet in the afternoon like they’d promised to play chess and get coffee. everything is prefect and comfortable, even as reader gets brave enough to do something she felt sorry for not doing sooner.

a/n: gang… i don’t wanna end this one… but idk what i should do past this part😭😭😭 but if yall want more just request smth cuz im obsessed with how this turned out🤓 ALSO ty for all the love you’re given this series, ive had a blast writing this (literally destroyed my sleep schedule i made because i go back to school in like four days or some bullshit) and it’s rlly awesome being a writer that makes fun little things that ppl end up loving!!!! so big ty to all of yall who’ve been reading

————————————————————————

was this too much?

i stared at myself in the mirror as i adjusted the collar of my sweater with my fingers.

i’m just going to see my best friend, so why am i dressing like this is a date? and why am i so nervous.

it’s a good nervous. the kind that had an entire rabble of butterflies fluttering around my stomach.

it wasn’t fancy, just a casual outfit that he’d definitely never seen me in before. i would wear this on a date though. on an occasion like this one.

i stepped away from my reflection. it was 11:30 and it wouldn’t take me longer than ten minutes to get to the coffee shop but i got my shoes on anyway. it doesn’t hurt to be early.

i left my apartment in a giddy rush. my feet were louder on the stairs than usual due to my quick pace.

one of my neighbors who was walking inside gave me an amused smile. “what’re you getting up to today?” she asked.

i directed my eyes towards her. “i’m going to see a friend.” my lips were pinned in a smile.

she grinned widely. “is it that boy who’s always coming over? the handsome tall one with brown hair?”

“maybe.” i nodded.

she gave me a knowing look. “oh honey, are you sure he’s just a friend?”

i tried to hide the flush over my cheeks. “i’m sure.”

“okay.” she nodded slowly like she wasn’t convinced. “i’ll know when he’s more than that.”

i rolled my eyes and left the building, deciding to walk instead of drive. maybe it’ll help my energy levels.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

i was cold by the time i got to the coffee shop. the autumn air was motionless apart from when cars would drive past me on the street, and the chill bit at my face and hands, even though i had them hidden in the sleeves of my sweater. it was bearable though.

“welcome in!”

the cheerful voice of a barista behind the counter mingled with the bell above the door and the chatter of customers placed across the establishment. it was warm inside and it smelled like coffee, for obvious reasons.

“hey.” a familiar voice sounded behind me. i turned around to look at spencer while he closed the shop door behind himself.

“hi.” i smiled.

“have you been here long?” he wondered.

i shook my head and freed my hands from my sleeves. “no. i got here a minute or two ago…” spencer’s hand on my face had me trailing off. his fingers moved some of my hair away from my eyes.

“did you walk?” his brows were pinched together, more so as i nodded. “it’s cold out.”

i smiled. he’s too sweet. “i’m okay. it’s not that bad.” i promised him through the tone of my voice and the look i gave him through my lashes.

he smiled softly with a nod. “good.”

“we still have a chess game to go play, so you better not let the temperature get to you.” my hand reached out to gently clamp around his wrist so i could pull him after me into the short line so we could get our coffees and then walk to the park.

“can i try yours?” i asked while walking down the sidewalk, outside again. i gestured to his coffee by tapping the side of it with my index finger. our arms brushed as we walked.

spencer hummed a ‘yes’ as he handed off his cup to me.

i excitedly took his cup and sipped from it, cautiously because i’ve heard morgan say that it would put him in a coma if he had more than a sip of it after mixing up an order. this happened years ago but morgan still talks about it.

he was right because when the drink hit my tongue i closed my eyes, pulling a face at how sweet it was. “jesus!”

spencer’s sweet laughter swirled inside my head. he gently took his cup back. “too sweet?”

i nodded quickly. “yeah. how do you drink that everyday?” i sipped my own coffee to try and get rid of the sugar that still lingered on my tongue.

when we kissed he tasted like that.

he shrugged. “i don’t know, I’m just used to it i guess.”

our arms brushed again because i can’t walk in a straight line but he didn’t seem to mind. “what did you get?” he quizzed.

i read the barista’s handwriting on the side of the cup. it was what i got whenever i went to a coffee shop but i still liked to get my answer right. “a half dark half white chocolate mocha with caramel. i got a double shot of espresso today so… we’ll see how that plays out.” my eyes trailed up to his face while we stopped at the crosswalk across from the park. he glanced down at me, eyes all content. his pupils were blown wide which made it hard to see the brown of his eyes.

“don’t get a caffeine rush on me.” spencer told me. “i might not be able to handle you.”

i scoffed with a squint of my eyes. “please, you’re able to handle me no matter what.”

he agreed with me.

while we were stepping away from the safety of the sidewalk i mindlessly grabbed spencer’s hand. it was just a habit i’ve always had. an instinct to reach out and hold onto whoever i was with while crossing the street.

when we reached the other side i quickly released his hand. i met his eyes with my own. “sorry. force of habit.” i smiled shyly.

spencer smiled back. “it’s okay.”

he found an empty table to play chess at, which was the only one that wasn’t occupied. i never knew people favored playing chess in a park so much until now.

i sat down on a stone chair on one side of the board while spencer sat across from me, pulling a box of chess pieces out of his bag. i watched him slide the white colored pieces over to me. “do you just carry those around all the time?” i wondered while placing all the pieces in the correct places.

“yeah.” he nodded.

i smiled. “you have a marry poppins bag.”

“i love marry poppins.” spencer hummed.

i laughed quietly in endearment. he’s really pretty today.

“okay,” i put my hands flush against one another and rubbed them together. “prepare to loose.” i slid one piece forward.

spencer shook his head. “in your dreams.” he moved a piece.

i watched him and processed a few things i could do before moving.

we went back and forth in silence for a few minutes before i looked up at him. he was looking at the board with furrowed brows. “when did you learn to play?”

spencer moved a piece before answering. “when i was a kid. me and my mom would play a lot.” he focused on my lips for a moment before shifting to my eyes. he smiled almost timidly.

i stole one of his pieces with my next move. it was held between my fingers beside my face. “gotcha.” i whispered.

he took a piece of mine and mirrored me. “you were saying?”

i frowned. “you’re mean.” i moved again.

“this is all part of the game.” he laughed as we kept playing.

i rested my head in my hand and stared at the pieces in thought. i moved another piece over the board before taking a quick sip of coffee.

the park was nice today. there were a lot of people walking or sitting or playing chess like us. it was comfortable. i don’t know why i haven’t come here as much.

spencer’s hair fell over his face when a light breeze blew through the park and i wanted to reach out and brush it out of his eyes.

i don’t remember moving my arms to do so, but i leaned across the small table and did so anyway. spencer didn’t take his eyes off of mine, not while i was moving his hair with my fingertips on his skin, and not when his hand mirroring mine took the one in his hair in his own. he intertwined our fingers and i thought i was dreaming as he moved so our elbows were propping our joined hands over the board.

he nonchalantly went back to the game, taking one of my pieces. “your move.” he squeezed my hand to snap me out of my trance the physical contact put me in.

i nodded, pursing my lips. “right.” i felt like there was more attention on me and it made my focus dwindle. i still moved a piece that spencer took after a few moves, but he smoothed his thumb over the small extent of my hand he could touch.

i smiled suddenly as i took a piece of his. “while i was leaving my building my neighbor asked me where i was going. when i told her i was seeing a friend she asked ‘the handsome tall one with brown hair’ and i thought that was such an accurate description of you.” i sipped more of my coffee. being outside had cooled it down significantly.

spencer squeezed my hand that i was convinced he wasn’t ever going to let go. i met his eyes. “you think i’m…” he trailed off momentarily while he moved another piece. “tall?” he asked, that stupid but addicting smile slipped onto his lips.

i scoffed, mouth open in an amused smile. “yes, yes i do.” i nodded with a laugh. “all 6’1 of you.”

spencer’s eyes were so soft on mine. they were just full of adoration and endearment. i didn’t have a problem with getting lost in them. i’d get more lost just in his company every day.

“you’re so beautiful…” his voice was so quiet i wouldn’t have caught what he’d said if i wasn’t looking at him. i read his lips in slow motion.

“thank you.”

we played the rest of the game in silence and secret glances. spencer won which didn’t surprise me. he told me i was good though, and that must mean i’m really good if its coming from him.

spencer let go of my hand so that we could put the pieces away. my hand got cold immediately. i worked quickly to group the colors of pieces and slide them over to him.

when we left the table, people immediately occupied it. i laughed slightly.

“is there this many people here often?” i asked, my hand brushing his as we walked.

he slowly interlaced our fingers again, being casual with it. “this isn’t the busiest it’s been.” he replied. i nodded, looking down at our joined hands.

my feet stopped moving across the sidewalk and spencer stopped with me. “you okay?”

i looked up at him, searching his eyes for what he must have searched mine for when he’d first kissed me.

i wanted to kiss him.

i can’t deny that anymore.

so in the middle of the park in the afternoon i did just that. i stood on my toes and kissed him. my chest pressed against his and i swear i could feel his quickened heartbeat while our lips gently pressed together.

spencer dropped my hand to cradle my face, meaning i couldn’t pull away so soon. and i was just fine with that.

i slid my hand around his waist to his back. my palms pressed flat into him, making a soft hum pass from him to me.

when we did pull away for breath, spencer whispered, “it’s not too early to love me.” his forehead pressed against mine.

i smiled. “you heard me that night?”

“yeah.” he nodded subtly. “and i’ve played it over and over again in my head.”

i smiled, tilting my head to kiss him once. “it sounds like you love me.” i ran my hands down his back.

“i do.” he whispered. “i really do.”

my head rested on his chest as i hugged him closer. his arms wrapped around me in an instant. “i’m sorry i made you wait for me.” i muttered.

“i’d wait for you no matter what.” spencer replied, kissing the top of my head.

i smiled in content, breathing in his scent that was like a muscle relaxant. everyone and everything around me and him just faded away.

until both of us got a phone call.

i frowned and dug into my pocket to answer the same time as spencer.

“hello?”

“hello my lovely, we have a case and need you here ASAP.” penelope’s cheerful voice filled my ear. i sighed and looked up at spencer as he gave me the same look.

i nodded. “okay. we’ll start heading over.”

“who’s ‘we’?” penelope asked.

“me and spencer.” i replied, not really caring if she freaks out because it’s worth it for him.

she squealed over the line. spencer had already hung up and was waiting for me. “that’s so adorable. okay, get here quick, hotch is looking at me impatiently.”

“okay. see you soon.”

“bye!”

i shoved my phone back into my pocket. “there goes the weekend.” i took spencer’s hand as we walked to where his car was parked.

“i’m glad we got to do this.” he told me. i smiled, running my thumb against his hand.

“me too.” i agreed.

spencer stopped in the middle of the sidewalk to kiss me once. i giggled with my eyes closed. “what was that for?” i wondered.

“just to make sure this is real.” he replied.

i stood on my toes to kiss him again. “it is.”

he kissed me one more time, which resulted in some guy telling us to ‘get a room’ to which i started laughing, head leaned back.

spencer started dragging me to his car with that, we were in the safety of it when he kissed me one last time.

“the team is waiting.” i reminded him.

his eyes went wide. “i forgot.” he chuckled softly.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

when we made it to the roundtable room morgan whistled at us. “about time.”

i smiled awkwardly and sat down, spencer following right beside me. “sorry. my car wouldn’t start.” i lied.

“ah yes, so you repaid pretty boy with a kiss?”

i whipped my head towards spencer and noticed a mark from the tinted chapstick i was wearing on his lips. i discretely used my fingers to wipe away any color that escaped my lips. “that’s not from me that’s from… a random girl on the street.” i avoided everyone’s eyes while attempting not to smile. “she thought he was handsome.”

the whole team exchanged a series of unconvinced looks. hotch was the first to speak. “start the brief garcia.”

with that she got started, talking about the new case full of gruesome details that i only heard half of. i was too distracted by the way spencer grabbed my hand under the table and squeezed it to assure we were okay.

the team definitely didn’t believe any of what i’d just said but it didn’t really matter. neither of us cared.

it definitely wasn’t too early to love him.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid imagines #criminal minds #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid scenario #doctor spencer reid #is it too early to love you series

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kmt123whatsthetea · 1 year ago

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George weasley NSFW alphabet

Kinktober 2023

My laptop has finally been fixed and the fanfic finished. I haven’t been as active as I would like to have been for kinktober but maybe I’ll do some Christmas stuff closer to the time. Anyway, here’s a horny alphabet, have at it

TW: Kind-dom George (I always imagine him being the softer twin, idk why), Breeding kink, implied marking (through biting and spanking etc), mentions of DDLG, choking, mention of sub George, thigh riding

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

George always holds you tight and gives you a million kisses. He’ll always let you know just how good you were and how much of a good girl you are. He will only get out of bed if you ask for something. He won’t let you lift a finger after sex.

B = Body Part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partners)

He loves your hips. He loves squeezing them when he stands behind you and he loves placing his hand on your hip when you both go out for the night. He also loves holding your hips when he's burying himself inside of you.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum, basically)

He’s either cumming inside or he’s not cumming at all. He absolutely adores the idea of you being pregnant and the thought of you being swollen with milk leaking from your breasts will make him cum in his boxers like a horny teenager (and then he’ll be all pouty because he didnt cum inside you, but he’d definitely try to collect it on his fingers and stuff it inside of you)

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

I think his dirty secret would involve him being a bit rougher with you (he gets this idea after seeing you with Fred). He would love to mark you as his, whether it's through bite marks, hand prints, or body writing. If he tries it, he’ll be obsessed with tying you up and writing on your body. He’ll write things like “Dirty whore” “My Bunny” “Cum Dump” “Bite Me” “Breeding Bitch” and anything else that makes his dick hard

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

He’s got quite a bit of experience. Being on the Quidditch team meant that the girls practically threw themselves at him, his brother, and other players. He fucked a few of these girls, picked up a few tricks on how to make a woman very happy. Luckily for you, he puts those tricks to good use every time you both go at it.

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying)

Either missionary or cowgirl. He loves watching your face because he can't imagine a prettier sight, but he also loves when you randomly straddle him and start riding him. He will still be somewhat in control (if you haven’t taken control this time).

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment? Are they humorous? etc.)

He can be, but it all depends on his mood and your mood. There are times when he tries to be goofy to cheer you up and it leads to sex (it's not the same but it's close). There are times when he will crack a few jokes and make smart quips but he only really does this towards the end of having sex when you’re both coming down from your highs.

H = Hair (How well-groomed are they? Does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

I feel like he prefers to keep it trimmed and neat. He won't fully shave but he will like to keep it clean and tidy. The carpet definitely doesn't match the drapes. It seems to be the opposite. His hair is long, his down there hair will be short, almost shaven. His hair is short, his down there hair will be about the same length.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment? The romantic aspect.)

Ginger Don Juan. This man is so romantic that his second job would be a poet. He loves taking you to dinner with rose petals and candles. Sex is the same, for sure. On anniversaries, he will go all out with silk sheets and dimmed lights while he slowly fucks into you. He’ll hold you close and make sure you feel so loved. (it doesn't even have to be an anniversary, just when he's in a romantic mood)

J = Jack off (Masturbation Headcanon)

He doesn't jerk off that much, surprisingly. Maybe twice or three times a week. He just doesn’t get turned on that much. But when he meets you, he stops jerking off all together (why would he need his hand when he has your perfect body to play with as he pleases.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Does a praise kink still count if he gets off on giving praise? If so, then he has a praise kink. He has a little bit of a dumbification kink. He loves making you so cock drunk and dumb. He has an edging and overstimulation kink. He adores the way you writhe from being too sensitive and the way you whine when he stops pleasuring you. Teasing, he loves it. It's more of a condescending teasing, like telling you how greedy your pussy is and that you're too dumb to take care of yourself so he has to do it for you. DDLG. he loves treating you like his innocent little girl while you call him daddy.

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

He isn't one for risks so he prefers anywhere in your flat. He prefers the bed or the bath or the sofa. Maybe he can be persuaded to fuck you against the window overlooking Diagon Alley (I know its risky, but he secretly casts a disillusionment charm and a silencing charm to make you both invisible and silent) poor guy just doesnt want anyone else seeing your tits with a fucked out look on your face

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

When you give him those innocent little doe eyes and say vulgar and dirty things. Coming back to the ddlg kink, he loves when you randomly walk up to him and call him daddy. So random yet so hot. He will drop everything he's doing and carry you to bed.

N = No (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He's against overly hurting you. He’ll spank you and overstimulate you but he'd never slap you across the face or pull your hair too hard. I feel like he'd be against choking you too hard. He doesn't mind wrapping his fingers around your throat but he’ll never go as far as making you dizzy or oxygen starved.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He’s more of a giving man. He loves the sound you make and the way you feel on this tongue. He adores the feeling of your thighs against his ears and how your legs tremble after you cum against his mouth.

He doesn't mind receiving if it means that he gets to look at your teary eyes as you try to take him all. He’ll tease you by telling you that your mouth is just too small for his big cock and that you need him to train your throat.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

He can be either fast or slow but there's always a sensual element to it. No matter what you guys are doing, he always wants you to feel loved by him. Sometimes he’ll make his pace slow and torturous just to tease you and make you beg.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He isn’t one for quickies. He prefers to take his time making love to you. Even if he has the time for a quickie, he’ll use that time to give you sweet kisses and promises for a passionate evening. He doesn’t like quickies because he doesn’t think that it's enough time to appreciate your beauty.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment? Do they take risks? etc.)

No. even when there's a chance to take a risk, he just doesn't like risks. He's happy to experiment as long as it's not too public and stays within both of your comfort zones. Don't think that he’s predictable, he’ll always find new ways to keep things interesting and new.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for? How long do they last?)

This man has stamina for days. He can last a pretty long time but he will adapt to his partner. Although he likes overstimulating you, he will stop immediately if you even let out the faintest pained sound. He’ll apologise and stop for the night.

T = Toys (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

He owns a vibrator and that's it. He likes using it on you while fucking you because of the way you feel around him and how wet you get. Sometimes he’ll use it to edge you, but only if he's in a playful mood. He doesn't really like using dildos because he likes how tight you are (it doesnt matter that he fucks you nearly every night, you still feel so tight to him).

U = Unfair (How much they like to tease)

It really depends on his mood. If he’s in a teasing mood, then you better be in for a long night of being edged and tortured by this ginger sweetheart. If he’s in a romantic mood, then it's completely the opposite and he’ll make you cum as much as you can.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Again, it depends. If you persuade him to be submissive, he will be a loud whiny boy. He is definitely the type who begs for you to touch him and pleads to cum. When he’s in charge, he grunts and lets out breathy sighs.

W = Wild Card (A random headcanon for the character)

If you ride his thigh, he will cum in his boxers. He adores the feeling of your thighs squeezing his and the wet feeling of your cunt soaking through the material. Whether his hands are on your hips guiding you or he’s letting you use his thigh, he’s happy and horny. If he’s wearing his work trousers and you ride his thigh before work, he won't change his trousers. He’s wearing the stains like a badge of honour.

X = X-ray (Let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Being a twin, his dick is identical to his brothers. But he does have a few defining characteristics (his dick does anyway). He has one vein that becomes prominent when he's being edged. When you give him oral and focus on that vein (trailing it with your tongue or sucking it) he gets loud.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

He has a high yearning but he pretends that he doesn't so that he can tease you. He loves when you come to him all needy and beg him to touch you but he just carries on with what he was doing. Sometimes his sex drive will wane and he’ll be in more of a mood to cuddle than to fuck but apart from that he has a pretty high sex drive.

Z = Zzz (How quickly they fall asleep afterward)

He falls asleep after you but there are some occasions where he will fall asleep first. If he’s been submissive and you’ve really taken a toll on him then he’ll be out like a light. But the majority of the time, he will only fall asleep after he’s tended to you.

#george weasley #george weasley fic #george weasley x fem #george weasley x you #george weasley x y/n #george weasley smut #george weasley headcanon #kinktober

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tojiscrack · 8 days ago

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I just binged liar liar for the past couple hours. Hi, youre hilarious and i’m obsessed. Your writing is crazy good!! to write such long chapter and they’re all entertaining the whole way through is amazing. I was audibly laughing at half of it, gojo caught in the phone box and getting called a pedo had me crying - perfect reference for that scene

Anyway you’re writing is fabulous! thank you for giving megumi the attention he deserved!!! <3

liar, liar masterlist here:

HELLOOO ML <3

one of my fav things ever is seeing the process people read the story by. so, for every like that you give on each chapter lets me know when you’re reading it and how far you’ve come along. and then eventually, when you end up in my inbox, i get so excited ‘cause yes, i saw the process before my eyes (my notifs have time stamps).

this makes me sound like joe goldberg, i am NAWT him 🌝

‘you’re hilarious’ — i’m gonna stop you right there 😐(🥹) i’m blushing

ty??? 😭🩵 i pair this with ‘i love ur writing!’ as the best compliments i could ever get on here 🤧💞

‘your writing is crazy good!’ — any more of that and i might just pass out 🥴💝

the fact that you also believe that it’s enjoyable the whole way through warms my heart sm ❤️ i struggle to read past kindergarten ‘cause y/n takes about 90% of the wc just explaining one thing, like i have a stroke reading it 💀

‘i was audibly laughing at half of it’ — MISSION ACCOMPLISHED 😋 THAT WAS THE GOAL <333

gojo in the phone box is the only way i see myself paralleling what happened in canon 😀 like, it’s perfect, ‘cause it’s still a box, and i had choso have a ‘dark past’ (pretty sure i referenced him locking yuji in a room and summoning a demon on him with the ouija board) done solely so that the phone box shit can happen, since everyone seems to forget that he was COMPLICIT in the sealing of satoru gojo back in shibuya 😭

JJK222 SPOILERS IN RED AND THE IMAGE BELOW:

look at that imposter SMILING like he wasn’t complicit in the disappearance of the same man he’s cheering on to fight sukuna 😐

like everyone else might have forgotten but i’m still salty 😭

and gojo in LL will be too

also gojo looks sooo 😋😋😋 i wanna eat him up and squish him at the same time 🤧🫶🏽

anyway, tysm for dropping by and communicating to me what you enjoyed about the fic so far! <3 it means the world to me, you have no idea 🫶🏽

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blitzyn · 2 years ago

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Can I ask for Asra from The Arcana with male reader please? maybe an established relationship where they've been together for a long time? Not much of a plot but mostly just smut/fluff where Reader comes back wounded and goes to clean himself off, and when he comes out into the main bedroom, they end up having sex and it's a bit frantic because they missed each other? Bottom reader if that's okay with you. Thank you

missed you

asra alnazar x m!reader

Synopsis: Asra heals you with his magic after you return home littered in injuries — albeit in a different way.

a/n -> i love him so much<333 just got done playing his route again and now i am overcome with the sensation of emptiness once more. but anyways, ty for requesting him! it gets a little tiring only writing for genshin, no matter how much i love the requests and the characters. i hope this is okay!

wc -> 1.8k

cw -> anal sex, anal fingering, brief blowjob, mentions of injury

You winced as a sharp sting permeated through your skin, shifting uncomfortably when the fabric of your shirt rubbed against your wound. You sighed in relief when you realized that the sign at the front of the magic shop read "Open" - Asra was home.

"I'll be out in a moment!" You were met with a comforting voice when you opened the door, a cheerful jingle echoing through the building.

"Oh, [Name], you're back!" Asra smiled warmly, setting his cup of tea on the front counter. You watched as his eyes roamed your body for a moment before they widened at the sight of your blood staining your clothes.

"What happened to you?" he questioned, rushing to your side. He placed a hand on your lower back to guide you to your shared bedroom after he flipped the sign and locked the door.

"Oh, nothing much..." you trailed off. It was a little embarrassing, really.

"You're bleeding. That doesn't look like 'Nothing much.'" He raised a brow and made you sit on the bed.

"...Would you believe me if I said that a... plant attacked me?"

He blinked incredulously, halting in place. It took him a few moments to process what you just said, trying futilely to figure out how in the world that could've occurred.

"What," he managed to utter, leaning back to stare at you.

"I tripped and spilled a lot of the stuff in my bag. It got over a plant and... here I am," you bashfully explained, incapable of maintaining eye contact any longer.

"What did you have in the bag?"

"Herbs, medicinal powders, items of the like. Now I know not to mix them, I guess."

Asra sighed and shook his head in fond exasperation, but an uneasy expression still managed to cross his face. "It's good that you're okay, but you need to be more careful next time. I was already on edge when I found out that Nadia didn't know where you were."

"Right. Sorry." You furrowed your eyebrows at his apprehension, guilt settling in your chest.

"Well, it doesn't help to dwell in the past." He leaned closer to you. Pressing a hand against your torso, he guided you down so that you lay on your back. "I'd better heal you."

You nodded and relaxed against the plush and comforting covers, shivering at his touch. Your eyes widened in surprise when he did not trace your injury with his fingers like he normally would, but instead placed his lips over the top of your cut. He peered up at you through his eyelashes and smiled innocently.

With gentle glints of light, he mended the skin with his soothing kisses, beginning from your chest. He softly caressed your hips as he moved lower and lower. You swallowed hard and found yourself unable to tear your gaze away from him.

You covered your mouth with the back of your hand, your face feeling incredibly hot. You tensed when he lingered dangerously close to the waistband of your pants but had to hold back a noise when he abruptly rose from his position.

"You look awfully flustered." His eyes were alight with mischief, body towering over yours. "I wonder what's gotten you so worked up?"

"Don't tease..." You looked away bashfully, feebly squirming under his gaze. He noticed the slightest opening of your legs and couldn't help the smile that appeared. He shifted himself back between your thighs, running his hand over your bare stomach.

He glanced up at you. "Are you sure? You just returned. Do you want to rest first?"

"No, I'm okay. K-keep going," you replied. He nodded, tucked his fingers under the band of your pants, and gently tugged them down alongside your underwear. You sucked in a sharp breath at the contrast between your heated skin and the cooler air of the bedroom, though Asra's body heat very quickly warmed you up again.

He sighed over your semi-hard cock, mouth slightly ajar, and averted his focus onto your thighs instead. He kissed random spots, some closer to where you wanted him and others farther away.

You lightly pulled on his hair to gain his attention and shot him a tense look, to which he chuckled out an apology.

"Sorry. I just missed you." He hovered over your dick once more before finally taking it in his mouth with the aid of his hand. The other one reached for yours, interlocking your fingers as he pushed himself until you could feel the beginning of his throat. He didn't prefer going all the way — not that you minded.

He used the saliva that escaped through the corners of his lips to help him jerk off what he didn't get. You moaned softly, tightening your grip around his hand, digging your free one into the bedsheets. You weren't sure if it was because you were gone for so long, but how he handled you with such practiced ease had you resisting the impulse to thrust your hips upwards.

He hummed contentedly, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he smiled affectionately, unable to tear his gaze away from your face. He was rendered utterly entranced for a few moments, captivated with your scent, your taste, your voice. With you.

He worked to please, watching every twitch of your body, listening to every sound that passed your lips. He couldn't help but grind against the mattress: impatience and desire steadily rising, and he wasn't sure how much longer he could subdue them.

With a great deal of reluctance, he pulled himself away from you, already missing the weight of your weeping cock on his tongue. You reopened your eyes — when had you closed them? — and observed him with bated breath. He reached towards the cluttered nightstand and retrieved a bottle of lube, pouring some of the contents on his fingers.

His dick strained against the cloth of his pants, aching to be touched. But he ignored his own needs for the moment, directing his focus solely on you. He inserted one finger inside you before adding a second one, deciding on taking his time to prepare you. He could feel you shudder when he began to move them in a scissoring motion, curling them every so often to bring forth moans.

He leaned down to shower your neck in kisses, heat traveling up and down his spine in powerful surges.

"I'm ready," you murmur breathlessly.

"I just started." Asra raised an eyebrow. You weren't typically this urgent, this needy, but he understands. He's barely stopping himself from acting the same.

"I-It's fine," you stammered, widening your legs in want. "Please..."

He swallowed hard. He longed to finally bury himself inside you, but the concern of hurting you fought valiantly within his mind. His hand slowed in contemplation as he stared into your eyes. They were wide, pupils blown and filled with lust.

"Oh, how could I ever say no to you?" He removed his fingers with a gentle smile before it morphed into something akin to worry. "But please tell me if it hurts, okay?"

You nodded and offered him a meek grin of your own. "I will."

He turned to grab the bottle of lube once more and poured an ample amount (a tad more than usual) on his cock that he freed from his pants a few moments prior. He slightly winced before he pressed the tip against your hole and began to push himself inside.

He groaned, stilling when his pelvis met your ass. The burn was a bit more prominent compared to the previous times you'd done this, but it wasn't something you couldn't tolerate. In fact, you would say that it felt good.

You wordlessly signaled him with a bob of your head to get him to move, to which he sighed pleasurably in return. He trailed his hands up from your hips to your waist, caressing the flesh as he began leisurely thrusting, his pace increasing with every passing moment.

Your breaths were shallow as you gazed at him with loving eyes, enamored with the sight before you. You couldn't resist the urge to raise your arms toward him, wanting to feel his body close to yours - despite knowing he's already as close as he can be. But he couldn't disregard how you were so beautifully splayed out in front of him and entertained your wish by curling his arms around your upper body as you wrapped your own over his back.

There was nothing to conceal each other's noises, creating a melody only the two of you could hear. He could feel you tighten when he whispered breathless praises in your ear, nothing but honesty spilling from his lips.

You turned your head to kiss the side of his neck, offering wordless replies. You were caught up in hazy bliss, arching your back as the heat within your abdomen strengthened each second. Your moans grew louder as you urged him to move a bit faster, desperate to reach your climax.

The bed creaked alongside the headboard that softly struck the wall, mixing in with the harmony that was your moans and his labored breaths, but neither of you paid it any heed.

"I love you. I love you..." he chanted, seemingly lost in the mantra as he neared his orgasm.

You tensed when the spark of ecstasy finally washed over you in surges, rolling over your skin pleasantly. Your cock spurted cum over your bare stomach, tended to by one of your hands. You could feel his breath hitch beside your ear, and instinctively pulled him closer with your legs just as he came.

You shuddered, relaxing as he buried his face in the junction between your neck and shoulder. You combed your fingers through his curly white hair, patiently waiting for him to settle, basking in the afterglow.

It wasn't until a minute or so when he finally decided to pull away and place most of his weight on his knees to look at you. The two of you remained silent for a few moments longer until he spoke, "We should take a bath."

You nodded with a chuckle. "Also, where's Faust? I haven't seen her in a while."

"Here..." Faust's faint voice was even quieter than before, and both of your heads swerved towards the windowsill, where the curtains rustled. You were mortified to see a familiar purple snout poke out from underneath.

"How did you not...?!" you exclaimed at Asra. Your face felt so hot it felt like you could cook an egg on it.

"I don't know!" He looked away in shame. "I was caught in the moment?"

He didn't seem sure of himself, and you groaned with your hands over your eyes.

"With you missing from the Palace, coming home injured," he tried to explain, "and with me missing you after just coming home from a recent journey, I completely forgot she was sleeping on the window."

Your expression softened. "I'm sorry."

He smiled. "It's okay. Now, let's hurry and clean up."

cross-posted on ao3

#asra alnazar #asra x you #asra x apprentice #apprentice reader #male apprentice reader #the arcana smut #reader smut #male reader smut #asra x reader #asra x mc #asra x male mc #asra x male reader #asra x reader smut #asra x male reader smut #requested fic

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