#can u believe i almost didn’t give them a happy ending | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

colourstreakgryffin · 5 months ago

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hii i really like your righting and i have a story idea ok its a hazbin hotel one.

so like alastor leave child reader for 7 years and like she/he/they feel abandoned and he(alstor) said he would go then come back like for a few hours, but a few hours turns unto days then days turnd to a year then 1 year turnd to 7. so now hes back but your with... vox(or Valentino just one of then u can pick)?

so now they feel abandoned and are like vox or Valentino tells them in a toxic way that they should stay with them

like i just need that drama. like i need drama to happen here!

so i would just love it if u did. and i think i have so ok ideas. so if u like this i could like come up with more! but for now this is all i got and it would mean a lot if u did this

Oooh. Right. It’s been some time since I written some juicy spicy draaammma~! I like it. It may not be that long but it’s still good. A great way to tease you all with a potential cliffhanger~! Hehe 🩷

Alastor- Abandonment Issues

That door will never open, will it…? It’s been this way for such a long time. You can’t remember when the bright red deer featured Overlord called your father would regularly arrive home. Now, that doesn’t exist. You almost forgot his name… it’s been so long

You were just a mere young child, a sweet little one that Alastor devoted his whole soul too and loved more than anything

One day, a normal day, he had to announce he was going away for a few hours to your face. Of course. It took some convincing and kisses and nuzzling for him to get you to let him go but you eventually came around and wave goodbye to your beloved father, as he proclaimed with his fancy radio-tuned voice he’d return in a flash

And you wish you never did

He said a few hours… it’s been longer than a few hours. You suspected he’d be back the next morning but he wasn’t. Rosie, Alastor’s most trusted friend, picked you up that morning since she learnt you were alone through her many eyes around Pentagram City and she took care of you. As much as you appreciate and respect Ms. Rosie for all she’s done for you… you want your father

He never came back. He never fulfilled his promise. He lied. He lied to your face and didn’t even have the decency to send you a letter

It’s been years. Though, the time felt like it flew by under Rosie’s loving care. The hours ticked over to days, those days ticked over to months, those months ticked over to years and now. You’ve reached the final stretch, seven years after the day your father just disappeared into the shadows with no semblance of communication or truth

Now. Apparently, he’s back… and you don’t want to talk to him. He lied to your face, why should you even give him the time of day?

Rosie is the one who mainly cared for you but she also let you go to Vox a number of times, the technology Overlord, when he offered to assist as he had learnt you didn’t have the Radio Demon anymore and he saw the perfect opportunity to finally beat the Deer once and for all

Rosie cared deeply for your safety and happiness so she entrusted Vox for his own power, blind to what Vox would end up doing to your perception of Alastor as he ensured to ruin it beyond repair by subtly manipulating you

“I am so sorry about him, love. Why don’t you come with me? I promise. I’ll give you everything you want and I won’t leave you”

Right from the start, Vox would love-bomb, in the most toxic but clouded way possible. Sweetly coo, express how frustrating it is to know a beautiful star like you was abandoned by your own parent and he questioned out loud how Alastor could do such a vile thing. This simple act, this sugar coating on your nose from the dastardly TV-head, was almost more than enough for you to start resenting your own father

Vox played your new father for the years he helped care for you, with the full intent to make Alastor’s most precious love turn on him and he succeeded so well, he couldn’t believe it. He raised you, joint with Rosie and he’s internally jumping for joy everytime you proclaim how mad or upset you are with Alastor for what he did

Not aware that Alastor wasn’t trying to leave you, he tried to talk to you but he couldn’t… his deal held him back. He didn’t want to tell you. He just… he was trying to protect you

Alastor immediately catches wind of what Vox did to you, almost the moment he is back in the City. That… that sly businessman shaped his precious baby deer to behave like a hateful spiteful beast at the mention of him. He couldn’t believe his baby… hates him. He didn’t mean for this, he couldn’t even take it. Almost nobody suspects that Alastor would express his regret and sorrow in public but he does

Just at the discovery that you don’t love him anymore but hate him with your guts, his little sunshine that’s almost fully grown now. You’ve become the right hand to his worst rival, you remember little about him and you love HIM more… that hurts more than any deal he’s stuck in, could

Alastor caught on the disturbing sight and it made him what to claw his eyes out in disbelief. Arriving up at the Overlord building for a meeting about some particular angelic issues, his sight and his brain not coming to terms with the fact you’re snuggling Vox’s lap and giving him love and affection like you’re HIS child whilst Vox reciprocates every drop you give him

But Alastor knew better… Vox is using you to get back at him, the ultimate revenge

His dual Transatlantic accent and radio tune dropping, his real voice… weak and tired from all he’s done these seven years with his soul-crushing deal and now defeated from the fact he’s lost you to the worst Sinner in Hell. His smile had actually faltered for possibly the first time ever, he just… he couldn’t pretend to smile at what he is seeing

Alastor speaks up the best he can, catching you and Vox’s attention in a smooth snap with his fluffy tall deer ears openly drawn back, clear pain in his crimson red eyes and lacing his tone but he doesn’t move from his spot at the entrance of this meeting room, clutching his microphone-staff hard enough for it to break in half, holding back the urge to rip apart Vox for this

It’s almost enough to make your heart pity him… almost

“G… Gris-Gris…?”

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mvltisstuff · 1 year ago

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Could i request for a Conrad fisher X reader where reader has a younger sibling who gives her a hard time and her parents favour her younger sibling more. It's the reader's bday on the same day as belly's and her family doesn't get her anything and they don't bother with an excuse either and say they don't really care abt her so it doesn't matter. So Conrad comforts her later and if u don't mind u could include some smut at the end?

(this is my situation rn lololol but without Conrad to comfort me😭)

matilda - c.f

summary: request

conrad fisher x reader

a/n: i’m so sorry love, sorry this is a few days late but you are so loved and appreciated no matter what, hope this makes you happy today <3

it’s been a recurring theme for most of y/n’s life. the overheard quotes about the older sibling had eventually become a reality. they didn’t even wait for y/n to try and live up to them. instead, they just accepted that their daughter wasn’t as good as the rest of their children.

as upsetting as it is, kids experience it too much. y/n experiences it every day, so when she realized it wasn’t normal, that’s when it started to hurt more every year.

this day was supposed to be different. she was so excited, turning 18 and finally being an adult. free of her parents if she wanted to be. she thought that maybe, just maybe, her parents would think of her for a day, and make it about it. alas, the second she woke up and walked into the kitchen, y/n’s hopes were shut down.

“y/n, can you take y/b/n to practice? i’m going out with sharon today,” her mom said, barely even looking at her.

“uh, i’m leaving in a bit, remember?” she speaks, trying to sound as polite as possible. “the fishers invited me over for today.”

“hon, we get it,” her dad talks next, peering up over his glasses and newspaper of the town. “but, to some point, it’s just another day. just do what your mother asked.”

y/n looks at her little siblings at the table, messing around and receiving no repercussions. she still remembers when that was her. playing with her parents, happier than she ever was again. she loves her siblings to death, but she loves herself, too. y/n deserves more than she’s been given, so she confides. she drives her brother to whatever practice, wishing him luck as he whispers a happy birthday, then jumping out of the car to see his friends.

she’s already dressed up for the party for belly. the fishers had welcomed her with open arms, even having decorations and sweets for her on the table. everyone figured she’d have something going on at home, but oh, they were so wrong. she didn’t receive a single birthday message from the people who gave her life, so did it matter? even if she didn’t believe it, at least the fishers knew she was worth it. she was dressed in one of her best outfits, a simple dress with small flowers printed over. she had small wedges and her hair was done neatly. she felt pretty, she is pretty.

she walked into the house, belly hearing the door open first. she skips toward, engulfing y/n in a huge hug. “y/n!” she squeals. “happy birthday!”

“oh, belly! happy birthday to you, you look so cute!”

“are you kidding? your man’s gonna go wild when he sees you!” she whispers, making y/n blush toward the end.

“belly, stop!” she nudges. “he’s not my man… yet.”

they giggle together before moving back into the kitchen where y/n greets susannah and laurel, along with the rest of the boys. conrad stands up first, in a heartbeat. he walks over, almost lifting y/n off the ground in a hug.

“hey! happy birthday!” he tells her, excitedly as he pulls away. jeremiah comes piling in next, saying his words to the person he considers a sister.

“didn’t y/m/n have anything planned?” susannah asked from the pure kindness in her heart.

“oh,” y/n mutters. “we, uh, we did something yesterday.”

conrad can tell when y/n lies. he can read her like a book at this point. he’s spent so long fanboying over her that he knows what she’s feeling. when she’s sad, excited, pissed, he knows. it pulls at his heart when he can sense the disappointment in her voice. he starts to get more alarmed with every drink she takes throughout the day. she’s not even a big drinker, never really taking an offer. now he’s positive somethings wrong.

if y/n’s parents didn’t care about her, they don’t care if she drinks, right? she’s with her friends, she’s allowed to. plus. it’ll take the edge off of the internal wounds her parents have left her with. her feelings on the whole matter start to disintegrate for a while, until belly’s cake comes out and is handed to her. it’s so nicely done, perfect detail and so much love. they put time into her cake and party, and y/n can’t help the jealousy rising up. she vividly remembers every one of her younger siblings birthdays. all of them having their friends and a party, while y/n was just locked in her room on her birthday. the presents and the cheesy grins from everyone were overwhelming every year. she couldn’t help but think about what it could be like with her real family. maybe they could love her as much as she deserves, but in reality, they won’t. they can, but they chose not to, which hurts even more.

y/n stumbles around on the balcony, around people while carefully savoring every last drop of whatever is in her can. she’s probably had too many, but she doesn’t care. it’s almost like it’s reversed itself now. she watches belly open all of her presents and receive hugs and kisses, and the lump in her throat becomes thicker. she thinks of the alcohol as her enemy now, just bringing back the thoughts in her sober mind.

it’s not until everyone hears the clicking of y/n’s heels on the pavement that they notice her walking away. her hand is swiping away the loose tears and everyone looks at conrad. if there’s anyone y/n wants to see, it’s him. they’ve been in love for so long, it’s almost painful to watch. as she walks away, blurry vision from the alcohol and the tears, she tries to grab another can from the box before a hand stops her.

“i don’t think that’s a good idea,” conrad says, gently taking it out of her hand and landing it back in the box.

“oh, great. more fuckin’ judgment,” she retorts, making conrad’s face contort.

“hey, what’s going on? you’ve been off all day.”

“i am, perfectly fine,” y/n slurs. conrad places a hand on her shoulder, and takes them to sit on the steps. his arm is wrapped around her, the other one gripping her hand.

“i know you’re not. it’s ok to not be ok,” he looks at her nose scrunch and her cheeks turn red again. “hey, hey, don’t cry, you’re alright.”

“no,” she weeps out, putting her head in her hands. “i’m a mess! i don’t know what to do, i cant make it any better and i’ve been trying for 14 fucking years!”

“hold on,” he keeps his voice low. “what do you mean?”

“my parents don’t give a shit. they haven’t since y/b/n was born and they didn’t even bother about me anymore,” conrad pulls her into his arms, leaning back as her teardrops soak into his shirt. “i didn’t do anything for this, and belly’s being loved unconditionally without having to fight for it. and i feel like a bitch getting upset over it but-“

“absolutely not. don’t say that ever again. you don’t deserve anything they’re giving you. anything they’ve said to you is a fucking lie. i know who you are. you’re the most perfect, beautiful person i’ve ever met, inside and out. you don’t have to prove anything to them, because they don’t deserve your amazingness,” he speaks to her. it’s nothing but the truth, and nothing he would ever hesitate to say. “and i will spend forever trying to prove to you that you’re nothing but beautiful a beautiful person.”

y/n looks up at him, only bursting into more tears as he laughs a bit. “oh, my god, conrad. i love you, so much. i know i’m drunk but i mean it more than anything.” she’s felt nothing like she does now. she’s never had someone accept her so quickly and with so much appreciation. she feels like she can do nothing but cry and just love on him.

“i’m glad,” he begins again. “because i love you, too. no matter what your parents say or do. they don’t define you.”

and in this moment, for the first time in a long time, y/n knows someone loves her. and he’s not just saying it for comfort. she doesn’t need her parents to be loved. if they can’t do that, there will forever be someone out there who loves her just as much. she knows she’s enough, and that’s enough.

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weneeya · 8 months ago

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HIIII!! I love your writings!!! I really like how you manage the characters and how you make the scenes<3

May I request some Headcanon/scenario of Kageyama being in love for a female s/o?

bad at feelings w/ kageyama m.list | rules

note. hiiii omg thank u sm I'm so happy to read this <3 kageyama is my baby, like all the first years ; ofc I can write smth with him!! requests are still open :)

Kageyama Tobio wasn’t really well known for his ability to speak about how he felt. Actually, it was the exact opposite. The boy was so bad with his feelings and his thoughts, because he didn’t know how to express himself correctly. Watch him play with his team and you would quickly understand that talking was his weak point.

He never really cared, until you arrived. You were friends with Yachi, one of her classmates who arrived in the middle of the school year. This is why you started to spend a lot of time with the volleyball team, soon becoming friends with all of them. You were a real ray of light, always smiley and happy, like nothing could hurt you.

You were quickly adopted by the team, as Nishinoya and Tanaka made everyone understood around the school. They were giving dark looks to any boy who could want to speak with you, scaring them by clearly threatening them. It was a bit funny, you had to admit.

Tobio knew he liked you, but he didn’t know how he really felt at the same time. He never experienced love before, because volleyball was the only thing he cared about since he was born. He knew it wasn’t the same affection as the rest of the team, but love? He wasn’t sure about it. This is why he decided to come to talk with Daichi and Suga.

They were going out after their class, and Tobio was waiting for them outside, standing up all straight in front of the door. The two seniors almost jumped because of the surprise, not expecting Kageyama to be here.

“Is everything okay? Do you have another problem with Hinata? I told you to-” Daichi couldn’t finish his sentence because Tobio quickly bent in front of him, his voice coming out louder than expected.

“Sawamura-san, Sugawara-san! I need your help!” The captain and the setter looked at each other before looking back at their cadet. Suga told him to straight back up, an embarrassed smile on his lips.

“Come here, let’s talk somewhere else,” he said, and the three boys got outside the building in a minute. Kageyama quickly started to speak about his said problem. He sighed slightly before looking at his two senpai.

It took a long time, way too long in fact. Kageyama was searching for his words, saying the same things again and again, apparently lost with himself. His mind was racing, and his heart as well. Daichi could swear that he almost saw a blush over Kageyama’s cheeks for a second. Arms crossed, the captain looked at his setter who couldn’t help but to laugh at the poor boy’s behavior.

“Slow down Kageyama, breathe,” started Daichi and the younger boy stopped talking, looking at Suga with a slight frown on his face. Why was he laughing at him? Tobio was clearly not understanding.

“Our boy is in love,” finally added the third year, and Kageyama’s mind went wild. He looked at them with wide eyes, processing what he just heard. Daichi tried to tell Suga to go easy on him, but the setter kept going.

“Feelings, romantic ones ; this is what you’re experiencing right now.” Silence. Tobio couldn’t believe it. So it was really love in the end? He never thought he would go through that one day, or at least clearly not right now.

After thanking his seniors, Tobio left them to go walk alone. He needed milk, nothing would help him more than milk right now. He was in front of the vending machine when he heard a voice next to him. It was you, obviously. He could recognize your voice in the middle of a shouting crowd.

This is how you ended up walking home together, as there was no training after school today. You had this soft smile on your lips as you were talking about a few different things. Kageyama wasn’t listening, he was too busy staring at you to focus on your words. You finally looked at him, taking him out of his thoughts.

“Are you listening? You know, you can tell me if I’m annoying…” you said, and a small pout appeared on your lips. Tobio felt his cheeks burning suddenly, and he quickly looked away, his grip tightening a little around his milk. How could you be so adorable? It was too difficult to handle.

You wanted to add something, but Kageyama suddenly stopped and you did the same, turning to him. “What?” You asked, and the boy took a deep breath. He frowned slightly while looking at you, and for a moment you thought he was going to be angry at you.

“You… You’re pretty…” He finally said after a few moments of silence, and you couldn’t restrain your surprise. You slowly processed his words, and you felt your ears becoming warmer. You tried to find your words before being able to articulate a small “Thank you” to him.

Love really was a strange feeling, but Kageyama Tobio was ready to learn about it and how to handle his feelings if it meant staying by your side.

maybe I'll do a second part if you guys like it, I didn't want to make it too long hihi

#kageyama tobio #kageyama x reader #kageyama headcanons #kageyama hcs #haikyuu kageyama #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu hcs #haikyuu fluff #hq #hq fluff #hq headcanons #hq x reader #hq hcs #hq kageyama

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ilguna · 2 years ago

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can u do 6, 7, 66 list 2, carl grimes !! i don’t have a specific scenario though 😭 <3

spider web (Carl Grimes)

warnings; swearing, gun mention, arachnophobia.

wc; 3.7k

prompt; 6. "Kiss me and/or shut up." 7. "Where does it hurt?" 66. "Why are you always so dramatic?"

notes; set in a non-specific time after season 5, no major spoilers besides what happens at the prison.

–

The moment you stepped foot inside of Alexandria, you had a feeling that you’d be suffocated and controlled. It was the way that Aaron talked to you, like you were some misfortune teenager that ended up with Rick’s group, instead of deciding to stay. You have no blood-relation to anybody here, apparently that makes you irresponsible.

What really did it was when tried to make you hand over your gun, telling you that you’ll see it again. You’d just have to check it out from Olivia first on your way out of the walls. You couldn’t agree to it.

You’re not entirely sure why Rick and the rest of the group did. It could’ve been the desperation of wanting a safe place to lay their head, and Aaron and a few of the others had done an awful lot of convincing. However, none of you actually knew how safe it would be just yet, and you couldn’t trust them, not after what happened at Terminus.

So, you refused to bend to their rules until you knew that you could trust them. You didn’t care about what Rick or Carol felt, it was up to you. Olivia wasn’t happy about it, she told you that if you didn’t hand over your gun, then you’d be required to leave. Without another word, you’d pulled your bag onto your shoulders, tilting your head in the direction of the gate, asking if they’d escort you.

Aaron had to step in, backtracking. You were temporarily allowed to keep your gun on you until you were interviewed by Deanna. The entire time you sat outside with them on the porch, waiting your turn, was filled with Carl begging you not to do this. He didn’t want you to leave the group over a little disagreement.

They understood why you felt the way you did, but they reasoned that Terminus had left an impression on all of them. It’s exactly the reason why Rick didn’t believe Aaron about Terminus. Yet, here you all are, because they’re telling the truth so far.

“You don’t get it.” You snapped, turning your body away to face the street instead. Carol placed her hand on your shoulder, and you slapped it away. “And I don’t have to justify myself.”

You couldn’t promise anyone then and there that you wouldn’t leave. Not even Carol, who had been the one to save you the year prior from walkers. When you were alone, waiting for your dad to return from his run. One day turned to a week, and you knew he was dead somewhere, there was no point in waiting anymore. You didn’t know where to go. Carol came through the neighborhood an hour later, and she took you back to the prison.

That’s where you stayed, until the place got attacked by the Governor, and you were forced to leave. You were almost alone again, but Rick and Carl found you on the way, obviously in the middle of a fight. You tried to keep out of it. You knew Carl, you weren’t close enough to get into his familial affairs. He wasn’t as talkative back then.

It wasn’t until Michonne showed up, did he begin to talk to you more. You went from friends to best friends in the span of a week.

It’s the reason why he begged you to stay in Alexandria and not leave. You’re safe to him, someone he can trust. He couldn’t afford to lose you over the fact that you couldn’t give up your only source of protection. Especially since your dad gave it to you before he left you there alone with the promise that he’d be back.

You had to explain this to Deanna, the entire time feeling her judgment. How could a teenage girl be so attached to something so dangerous? You knew that she wasn’t fond of the idea, so you tried to reason with her. You told her that you would take all the bullets out of the gun, but you wouldn’t give it to her. She couldn’t make you do that.

All she had to say was that there was a strict no-gun policy inside of the walls of Alexandria unless you were leaving them.

You vividly remember standing up, smiling, and saying: “Well, I guess it’s decided then.”

She was fooled, thinking that you were going to hand it over to her. She held out her palm, waiting for you to pull it out and place it there.

You shook your head, “I’m leaving.”

Deanna let you get all the way to the door, waiting to see if you were bluffing or telling the truth. When you didn’t stop, reaching for the doorknob, she finally asked what your conditions were.

You scoffed, telling her that you wanted to keep the gun on you at all times, bullet included. You didn’t care about her policy, or if she thought that she and these walls could keep you safe. You didn’t believe her. You didn’t believe any of them, because you haven’t experienced Alexandria in the middle of a crisis.

“There’s never been a crisis before.” She told you smoothly.

“An even better reason for why I won’t be staying.”

“You’re a child.”

“No.” You snapped, turning to look at her, “I’m not, and I can perfectly handle myself, so what makes you think that I need you?” Silence followed the statement, while you waited for some half-assed lame excuse to leave her mouth. There was none, “That’s what I thought.”

“You can keep the gun.” She sighed, “But absolutely no bullets, and we’ll be checking your bag. Will you please sit back down?”

“No, I’m done talking to you.”

After that, it was nothing but a hassle to get the bullets to go outside. Deanna must’ve told Olivia not to give them to you, because you’ve had to sneak them out of the gun supply every single time if you needed them.

You could’ve left—you almost did—but Carl convinced you to stay. And to appease the urge to be outside, you’ve resorted to sneaking out, since they won’t let you through the front gate under any circumstances. Unless you’re accompanied by Carol or one of the others to supervise you. If they won’t let you leave safely, then you’ll find a different way out. At least then they would know that you left, instead of finding out that you’re missing several hours later.

The only person that knows you leave the walls anymore is Carl, and that’s because he finds the walls stuffy sometimes too. There’s only so much you can do in Alexandria before you begin to go insane, which is another reason why you were afraid of finding a place like this. You’ll forget that you’re surviving, not just living. What happens when those precious walls fall? You’ll be as useless as half of those Alexandrians.

“What’re you thinking about?” Carl asks, squeezing your hand when he looks over at you.

“Alexandria, unfortunately.” You sigh, “I miss the prison.”

He shrugs, “It was cold there.”

“We had a good community.” You defend.

“And the beds sucked.”

You roll your eyes, “At least there was a lot of work to do. We were never not busy.”

Carl stops walking, forcing you to stop too, “You know, if you want something to do—”

“Shut up.”

He grins, “You could get a job assignment.”

“Shut up.” You repeat, pulling your hand, “Forget I mentioned it.”

You start walking again, Carl follows, “If you’re too embarrassed, I can ask for you.”

“I’m not working for her, ever.”

“You say that now, but eventually you’re going to get bored of being bored. I know you better than that, (Y/n).”

You don’t say anything back, because he’s right. You’re not going to be able to sit around and do nothing. That’s why you wish you could ask to get a running assignment, so you can leave the walls when you want, for however you want. Instead of something stupid like landscape.

Carl knows very well that he’s the only reason why you’re staying. He better be careful when it comes to pushing your buttons.

Carl turns, heading for the nearest house. It's two-story, with a faded green outside and white trim. You follow him up the walkway, watching the street for any walkers that might be lurking nearby. You haven’t seen any the entire way here, not even in the shortcut through the woods. It’s odd seeing the world so bare of the dead.

Carl knocks on the front door a few times to draw attention of any walkers that may or may not be inside. You pull out your knife, the two of you quietly listening for any noises. When no dead show up at the windows, Carl is the first to enter cautiously. You check behind you one more time before stepping inside, shutting the door in case you’ve got trailers.

There’s been a few times where you’ve learned your lesson when it comes to keeping doors open. Carol always says that there’s nothing more dangerous than closed doors and inescapable houses. You disagree. If the door is shut, you know for certain that there’s nothing following you inside, unless it’s alive.

The two of you split to clear the house. You’ve been through this neighborhood plenty of times, and recognize the patterns to the layouts. You just haven’t been to this branch before, you and Carl take it one cul-de-sac at a time.

You creep into the kitchen on the left, eyes searching open places and hiding spots. You knock on the countertop to see if you can draw anything out of the shadows. You swing the pantry door open and jump back, finding it partially empty. There’s plenty to bring back to Alexandria, though.

You click on your flashlight as you get deeper into the house, heading into the laundry room. You check every corner and hiding space, finding nothing but a pile of clothes in the corner. With nothing here, you back out, and head into the main foyer, where Carl’s already waiting for you, sitting on the stair, messing with a tennis ball.

“Clear.” You murmur, “We’ve got a nice pantry to raid.”

“Let’s start with that first.” He says, tossing the ball into the living room.

The two of you dig through the cupboards and pantry, setting them on the counter to see just how much you’ve found. You have a feeling that everyone already knows that you sneak out frequently, really there’s no point in hiding it. You might as well bring back an apology gift, even if you aren’t sorry by any means.

You and Carl split the food into your bags to make it easier to carry. You zip up your bag and swing it onto your back again. Carl returns to the living room to look through the DVD’s. You sit on the arm of the couch, waiting for him patiently. He’s so funny when it comes to trying to find things for Judith to watch or toys to play with.

The house is pretty untouched since the beginning of the apocalypse, judging by the amount of food in the pantry. You get off of the couch, wandering over to the window sill. You have this game where you run your finger over the thick layer of dust. You roll it between your fingers, turning to flick it in Carl’s direction.

He watches it land by his feet, glaring at you, “Let’s go up.”

He goes up the stairs first, as usual. You follow him wordlessly, looking over the picture frames on the walls. A family lived here, parents and two teenagers—a boy and a girl. You brush some of the dust off to see a picture more clearly.

At the top of the stairs, Carl points up, “(Y/n), look.”

You follow his finger, and see that he’s pointing out the attic to you. A smile comes over your face as you hurry up the rest of the steps. It’s your favorite part about exploring houses. What do they have stored in the attic? It’s typically Halloween costumes, Christmas decorations, old stuff that they use once a year, but sometimes there’s good shit.

“Bingo.” You grin.

You follow Carl into the teenage boy’s room. You curiously look at the video game posters on the wall while he opens drawers and sifts through the boys’ belongings. There’s no picture frames in here, nothing to tell his story besides the hallway. Carl pulls out a stack of comic books that he doesn’t own yet, and carefully slides them into his bag.

You watch him walk by a game system four times before he notices it. He’s excited when he sees the video games on the shelf beneath, looking through them one by one. He picks a few that he’s interested in, and then the two of you leave to check out the other rooms.

The parents’ bedroom is uniform and cleanly made, untouched since the day they left. You find a few sweaters in Carol’s size that she might like, folding them over your arm to carry them with you for the time being. Carl tries to find something for his dad, but he’s at a loss. Everything here would be too out of character for him.

The final room belongs to the girl. You open the door this time, going to take a step inside.

The smell of rotting corpses is all too familiar to your nose by now, but the odor inside of the room is foul. You let out a gag, covering your nose while you take several steps back, shaking your head, “I’m not going in there.”

“We’ve seen worse.” Carl peeks.

“I’m sure we have. I’m still not going in there.”

Carl reaches in to grab the doorknob, “Alright, let’s go into the attic, then.”

The two of you work together to get to the string that’s hanging from the ceiling. Carl brings the rolling chair from the boys’ room into the hallway. You step onto the chair, using his shoulder as support while he holds it steady. You pull the door open, and a flurry of dust comes raining down on you.

While you cover your mouth and nose, you realize that there’s no ladder that usually goes with it.

You let out a sigh, “Well, this sucks.”

You reach your hand in the air, trying to see if your fingers even graze the edge of the opening, and they don’t. You can’t even guarantee that a jump would get you up there, either. You hop off the chair, placing your hands on your hips, biting the inside of your cheek.

Suddenly you redirect your attention to Carl with a smile.

He frowns, “What is it?”

“You know, you’re tall.” You flash him a toothy smile, “Let me on your shoulders.”

Carl makes a face, slowly starting to shake his head.

“Don’t say no yet, we haven’t tried it.”

“Babe, this is a great way to get us both killed because we end up falling down the stairs and breaking our necks.” He reasons.

“Just drop me in the other direction.” You wave off his concern, then motion for him to get down.

Carl closes his eyes, but lowers to his knees, “You’re lucky I’m in love with you.”

“I’m lucky you love me.” You agree, carefully placing your thighs on his shoulders, “Up we go!”

Carl takes a deep breath, holding it as he struggles to find a good footing. He uses the wall to help him extend his legs all the way, eventually reaching for the closet doorknob to get him up the rest of the way. You steady on his shoulders, being careful not to make any big movements. He takes it one step at a time to bring you beneath the hole, and then adjusts his stance.

This isn’t the first time he’s done this for you, and if he accidentally drops you, it wouldn’t be the first time you fell down the stairs. That’s why you’re not worried about it. You haven’t died yet, so there is no reason to be careful.

You can grab onto the edges now, and you pull yourself up most of the way. You’re very careful when you use Carl’s shoulders to push up the rest of the way. It’s dark as all hell up here, once your butt is firmly planted, you click on your flashlight, watching the dust dance in front of the newfound light.

There are loads of boxes and containers, all written on to tell you what they hold. You look for a ladder, but don’t seem to find one. It must be in the garage, that’s the only other place where it would make sense. You wiggle onto your stomach, placing the flashlight down while you reach down to grab Carl.

“No ladder?”

“Must be in the garage.” You say.

He steps onto the chair, and then proceeds to jump to take your hand, sending the chair flying across the hall. You let out a light laugh, beginning to pull him up. You hold with both hands for most of the way, but as soon as he can reach, you switch to one hand only. Carl swings himself into the attic, and it takes him five minutes of deep breathing before he decides that he’s ready to help you look through boxes.

Just as you thought, there’s Halloween costumes. Carl pulls out a pirate hat and tosses it to you to wear while he pulls over an eye patch, “Aye aye Captain.” He muses.

You let out a snort.

While he continues to go through the other boxes, looking for any swords, you end up stopping on a bin marked ‘grandma’s stuff’. You pop open the lid, pulling out the covered wedding dress and laying it on the ground. The further you get into the box, the sadder you seem to get.

There’s an old jewelry box, inside lies precious gems and silvers that their grandma must’ve loved at some point. You wind the back of the box, watching the ballerina begin to spin first, then the twinkling song plays slowly. You run your finger over the rings, necklaces and earrings.

There’s a photo album in the box. It’s falling apart at the seams, so you’re extra gentle with it while you look through it. It’s old pictures, all greyed out and almost hard to make out what they’re supposed to be. Family pictures that must be decades old, maybe grandma when she was younger. There’s a polaroid here and there, nothing too amazing. The box stops singing, and you careful put everything back inside of the container.

A tickling sensation touches your shoulder, you try to brush it off, taking it as a piece of dust or something. Except, when it’s sticky, you look over.

A scream leaves your throat as you swat away the spider web, rubbing it on your jeans, while heading for the only escape. Carl watches you in stunned silence, until he realizes what you’re about to do.

“(Y/n)---wait!”

You slip out of the attic, falling several feet until you hit the hardwood floor. First its your feet as you twist your ankle, your knees painfully slamming next, the last being your hands.

“Ouch, fuck!” You shout, face twisting as you immediately move to grab your ankle.

A black speck with several legs reminds you why you had left the attic in the first place. Another scream, much louder and terrified than the last, follows. You brush your skin rapidly, backing away from the area as you desperately try to find the demon somewhere on the floor.

“(Y/n)?” Carl asks, hanging his head out of the attic, the eyepatch slips off his head, and he barely catches it in the air.

“I fucking—” You slam your good foot on the spider, dragging your foot a little to ensure that it’s dead, “I think I twisted my ankle.”

“Why are you always so dramatic?” He sighs, hanging his feet out, and then dropping down.

“I’m not kidding, Carl.” You snap, wincing when you try to roll your ankle to stretch it, “It fucking hurts.”

He’s on the tip of his toes, shirt riding up as he stretches to grab the string to shut the attic. He watches it resume its place, “All over a little spider.”

You slam your good foot into his skin, boot scraping along skin. He lets out a yelp, backing away from you. You shake your head, turning over onto your knees to get up carefully, using the wall as support. It hurts to put any weight on your right ankle, but you have no choice. There’s a long walk back home with a heavy backpack and a wall to scale.

“Let’s just go.” You mumble, limping over to the steps. You’re sure that you’re doing more harm than good by walking on it.

“Hold on.” Carl says, grabbing your arm, “Let me look at it.”

“No.” You snap, he lets you pull away from his grasp.

He doesn’t care, getting onto his knees, hand on the back of your calf to keep you from going anywhere while he unties your shoe. He’s very gentle when it comes to pulling off the boot and peeling back the sock to take a look for himself.

“Where does it hurt?”

“Right on the ankle.” You sigh through your nose, looking away from him.

He ignores the noise, pressing on the skin, watching your face for a reaction. He gets it when he presses a little too hard and you grimace. You jerk forward, placing your hand on his head to steady yourself.

“There.” You motion, “The last spot you touched.”

He helps you stretch it enough to the point where you can stand on it without too much pain, “My poor baby is in so much pain.”

“Kiss me and shut up.” You tell him, he smiles.

#ilguna #carl grimes #carl grimes imagine #carl grimes oneshot #carl grimes x reader #carl grimes fanfic #twd #the walking dead #requested #2k celebration #anon #ask

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dalamjisung · 1 year ago

Text

feel something ❁ lee minho

genre: p u r e a n g s t

word count: 5835

pairing: reader x lee minho

description: he was a habit that was just too hard to break, but you did it. two years ago, you broke the vicious cycle that was him... until he came back.

[to be read as a continuation of Habits of My Heart, but can also work as a stand alone!]

You are in his apartment.

How the fuck did you end up in his apartment?

And is that– yes, that’s his arm, laying heavy on your naked waist.

Fuck, is all you can think, raising your head from the oh so soft pillow while blinking your tired eyes awake. This is not how you planned to spend your holiday, but alas, there you are. Under his soft, striped sheets that, moments ago, you held onto for dear life as you moaned his name so prettily. That, you are sure, is something he would love to talk about once he is up, and that is why you start stirring, slowly moving despite the anxiety rising up your throat having you ready to run. It’s still quite dark, the cold, winter days taking their time with sunrise, but you could see enough with the dewy shine coming in through the sheer curtains. Your underwear is thrown by the end of the bed, and somehow, you still manage enough strength in your legs to drag it up to where you can reach with your hands. Unfortunately, your body is trapped under his weight, half on top of you and half taking every little free space available, and you can’t really move too abruptly or else he’ll wake up and you’ll be forced to face a reality you’re not quite ready to.

You’ll be forced to face Lee Minho.

“Oh come Y/N, are you really back on that dating app?” Sam asks, laughing her guts out over the cup of coffee that has long gone cold. “You didn’t even last the month!”

And she is right– last time you deleted that god forsaken app was three weeks ago, with the promise of taking a break while things at work started to pick up. Cue to now, 21 days later and counting, and you are back on it, swiping left and right whenever you feel the odd tingle of boredom creeping in. It’s an easy distraction, is what you always say; the amount of men in that app giving you a bit of a power high at the opportunity for choice, but the conversations bringing you way back down to the sad reality of the dating world. In between ghosting people and being ghosted, finding ‘the perfect match’ is impossible. For those that claim that they found true love on such places, you simple smile and nod– there is no point in debating your beliefs on modern if they are living their own happy ending. All you can do then is bubble a little in your jealousy, pretending is not big deal.

“Let me see your profile,” Sam is one of your closest friends, and definitely your biggest enabler. “Are you still using that photo of you I like? The one in the red shirt with– yes, you are, amazing.” Her feedback is overall positive, from the pictures, to the prompts, to the profiles of the people you matched with. “Oh! Miss dating app has 23 new likes! Let’s check them out, I’ll swipe– no. No, no, no, no way… right? No way!”

You are not sure what she’s talking about until you catch a glimpse of your phone in her hand. And there he is, that same photo you had swiped right on two years ago. Black and white– a dramatic flair, you’re sure– with him in the centre, smirking in a way that it seems almost taunting. It’s like he hasn’t changed at all, like time stopped when it came to him, and you can’t help but gasp in shock. Your hands are trembling when you grab the phone from your friend, bringing it closer to you in a way that very much so said you didn’t believe your eyes. “Holy shit.”

Two years. “Holy fucking shit.”

Two years without talking to each other. Without seeing each other. Without texting. “Holy shit, it’s Lee Minho.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” You mutter like a crazy woman, and it gets on his nerves. It would get on his nerves, that is, if he was awake. Minho likes to tease you; he likes to push you away only to make the pull that much more appealing. And you fall for it, every single time, no matter how many times before you promise you won’t.

The routine is the same, as if you two are following a script. You get to his place– he never have and never will step foot into you apartment– and you text him. It feels oddly detached to ring his doorbell and announce your arrival, so a message is more than enough. The first thing he does is basically roast you for being unable to open his door, and really, who is he kidding? That old thing is so stuck in place you’re a bit surprised he’s able to have guests over. You try to tell him so, but he just clicks his tongue in that condescending way that makes your eyes roll as you follow him inside.

As always, the apartment is impeccable. He might be many things, really, with annoying being one of them, but the man is neat. The floor is clean, the lighting is perfect, the music in the background washes over you like calming waves trying to still your racing heart. Minho has this power over you, making you nervous in a way that no other man ever has, even if this is not your first encounter… by far. But you don’t show. Actually, you refuse to show, purposefully acting a bit too nonchalant about being there at all, loving how you can see it ticking him off by the second.

But before that– before the flirting, before the fucking, before the sneaking around with your underwear in your hands, there was the game. And boy, did you hate playing that fucking game.

Hey :D

What do you want, Minho?

What do I want?

I don’t know! I have a lot of things to say sorry for! :)

So… sorry! I acted like an immature dick back then.

I had other reasons to behave the way I did, but I don’t want to use them as excuses and just wanted to apologize

Apologize? You want to apologize after two years… on a dating app?

Well, okay… Uh, thank you, I guess? You did act like an immature asshole and I appreciate your apology.

But you do have my number, so I’m a bit confused as to why you just didn’t text me?

I do have your number, but… sometimes all we need is a push, you know?

I got this app yesterday and you were literally the third profile that showed up. Seeing your face again felt like a punch to the gut haha

And I thought I’d just say that if I could go back and do it all over again, I’d be better. For you. You were never anything but nice and understanding, and I should’ve treated you better.

So if you ever feel like… trying again… I’d love to give it a shot.

Are you serious, right now?

With all due respect, Minho, you gave me no reason to want to try and give it a shot. Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate the apology and I hope you are good and happy, but there is no way in hell that I’d ‘try again.’

Just thinking of the messages has you cringing. It was probably the stupidest thing you’ve convinced yourself of– the fact that you wouldn’t fall for his pretty words. It’s like he has a way with them that truly makes you wonder if he’s in the wrong profession. You tell him that, too, saying he should have been a poet or a fiction writer; the pictures he paints to you with his words do look better in your head, after all.

It takes him five days to get into your head… by literally doing nothing. After the conversation dies, with many more attempts of ‘let’s try again’ and empty ‘I miss you’s, you feel like you’re on a runner’s high. You feel like you’re on top, like you’re the winner of this stupid game you two always end up playing. But then he doesn’t text again. No ‘good morning’ or ‘how are you?’. No ‘thinking of you’ and definitely no begging for you wonderful, amazing presence to be back in his life. Now, it’s a little foolish to believe he’d ever do any of those– not even when you two were actually dating, two years ago, did he do that, so why now? What’s different now?

Well, to start, you. You are different, and he knows it. You’re grown now, more mature than you were. You are smarter, too, despite falling for the same words you feel for before. And now, you want different things too– no more silly ideas of a perfect relationship; no more giving your heart away in a whim, no more letting him handle you like a little stupid toy, no more wanting to call him when things get tough. All you want now– more like all you need, really– is some relief. Things have been hard… and that is putting it lightly. Work is hell, the winter is harsh, and life is just… a mess. So yes, safe to say you are desperate for some sort of soothing relief, looking to ease that growing tension on your shoulders.

Hence the dating app.

Going on dates is harder than you remember, when you begin again, but you simply amount the exhaustion to work and push yourself to get past your door, and out onto the street. It’s like you have a schedule for your free time as well as one for work– Hyojoon Friday night at the bar, Juyeon Saturday afternoon for lunch, Mark Sunday evening for an early dinner, and the list goes on and on and on. A few are first dates only– actually most of them are– but the ones that make it to a second or even a third date remain as that. A second or a third. As bad as it is to say, none seem to excite you as much as Minho did. Some are boring, and those are, oddly enough, the ones you try to stick to the most. If they are boring, you think, they won’t surprise you with any hurtful realisations of how you are not enough, or how they are better alone, or how they ‘can have some fun, but otherwise, just don’t have time.’

And it’s one of these boring ones, the ones you want to work so badly, that is the last drop in your very, very full bucket.

“And what do you think of climate change?”

You try so badly to ignore the itch in your hand, making you want to grab your phone and check that useless app again. You have your notifications off as a way to not allow an obsessions to arise but it’s futile and, honestly, quite naive to believe you’re not going to overthink every little thing that man said; and so you check, again and again, to make sure you don’t miss a message you know it’s not coming. It has been two days since he sent you anything and yet, you still check, and check, and check. The funny thing is that you meet Jeongin on the same app that Minho reached you on, but unlike Minho, your first date with Jeongin is one that you count the seconds to end.

“Climate change?” You repeat, eyes wide a bit in surprise. There is a smile on your lips, stiff and so well trained that, at this point, you don’t think it’s even believable. “I worry about it, of course.”

“But you eat meat?” He asks. The glint in his eyes tell you that he finds amusement in caging you against a wall. “That’s not very environmentally conscious.”

“No, I suppose it’s not.”

The close-lipped smile and the way your eyes discreetly check your wrist watch should have been enough, but he still manages to drag you to a coffee shop, running from the rain that poured all over you two as you marched out of the park. Tomorrow is a Monday and you have a presentation to prepare for, but still, he ignores you. And talks, and talks, and talks. By the time you make it home, you barely have any energy left to re-read your slides before passing out in the couch.

Date two isn’t much better, but at least it is a nice day and there are some musicians out playing in the park to keep you entertained as you two sit in complete silence. He’s not a chatty one, and you’re kind of tired of putting so much effort in and getting nothing back, so when you get home after that, you promise to not go out with him again. It’s a bit of an ego trip, how much he tries to contact you for a date you’ll know he’ll silently through, but you keep up with your dedication to your peace of mind. It’s not that deep, once you think about it. All this guy knows about you is the basic stuff– what you work with and how busy it keeps you. You take ages to respond to his message, and yet he still tries, and, at one point, he tries too hard.

It’s more the joke he makes than anything. You are mid report writing when you get a notification about an Instagram account trying to send you a message.

Hey Y/N, found you.

Who is this?

Kai!

Oh! Hi :) hahah how did you find me?

Took me hours lol

After that you just tell him that you’re not really ready to date and that you’re too busy, but it was lovely meeting him. After that, you get scared, and tired, and defeated. It’s like no matter what you did, you still couldn’t feel safe. No matter how many times you went out with them, how many chats over coffee you had, how many slightly intrusive questions you asked… it was never enough. It was still strange and new and unfamiliar and, quite sadly, unsafe. The slight touches have you flinching and the hungry looks make your curl inwards. Dating is hard for you, mainly because you’re not adventurous or fearless, quite the contrary– you are very, and with all the right, paranoid.

So when you text Minho, on your way home, regretting every words typed, you know that despite breaking your heart and acting like a class A idiot, he is, and will always be, familiar.

Familiar. Yes, Minho was familiar— everything about this situation was fucking familiar. The way that you hurriedly got dressed, the way that you walked on your tippy toes in hopes to make less noise, the way that, when you did make noise, you flinched, looking at the door in panic. Waking him up is not an option. Throughout the night, multiple times he tells you about how busy he is; how he has to write a speech for work, and how he has to present in front of a very important crowd, and how he is oh so nervous to do what he always does. And multiple times through the night, you nod and smile and say that ‘everything will be okay’, even if you don’t quite know what you are nodding and smiling about.

Is it because you’re there with him? No, that’s not it. There was a time Minho made you happy; a time in which the aftertaste of him lingered in your lips and you smiled, wide and unabashedly, every time your tongue poked out to lick your lips. A time in which the smell of his cologne that clung to your sweater would make you blush at the memories of limbs intertwined on the couch and whispered words floating in the air. Yes, there was a time in which Lee Minho made you happy. But that time is now long gone.

“Why are you here, then?”

And isn’t that the question of the hour? Why are you there? On his couch, laughing with a cup of wine in hand, retorting every little quip he throws your way. There are quite a lot of them– Minho is a man that likes being right, he likes being on top… in all facets of life. Winning, for him, is extremely important, and you wonder just how much he’s willing to sacrifice for that first place position in a competition with no one else but himself.

Actually, you know how much he’s willing to sacrifice. You know it very well. “I was bored,” You shrug, taking a sip of your glass. “And horny.” It’s no secret why you’re there. Or at least, it shouldn’t be. You know he’s trying to get a rise out of you, as he always does– something about how cute you look when you’re all flustered and annoyed– and you wonder if he knows how cuter you can get when you’re excited and driven. You wonder if he knows how much you can talk about something you love, instead of having to talk about something irrelevant. You wonder if he knows you at all and it’s quite depressing to even question that, chuckling to yourself at the thought.

Of course he doesn’t.

In some odd self-defense against yourself, trying to ease the admonishing conscientious voice in your head, you tell yourself that his laughter is nice. It’s quite loud and free and his shoulder wiggle in amusement, and you like when he laughs. The same way you like when Sam laughs, or when your flatmate laughs, or when your work teammate laughs… the same way you like when anyone you care for or about laughs. And this is not news to you, you’ve always known you care for Minho. His opinion matters to you, and his words, as fake as they can be, still get to you. You might be blinded by youthful impulses and thoughts of immediate satisfaction, but you are definitely not an idiot– you see reality, but you wilfully ignore it for a few hours or so. Minho allows you to do that, and it’s quite a relief to allow yourself to do it, too.

The moment he sits next to you is impactful. The air stills, and it’s more out of expectation than anything else– will he make a move now? Later? There is no dance in between the two of you, as ironic as that sounds, but more of a game of who can surprise who. He enjoys the moment he touches you first, you know he does; it’s the smirk on his lips that gives him away. He adores tugging you closer, even if it ends up with you two crampled up in awkward positions on his couch. And he lives for the moment of the first kiss of the night.

It starts like it always does– a simple touch of lips, a bit of space for reassurance, because Minho is many things, but he is not forceful; and then the lunge. You smile everytime he does it and maybe you’re at fault for how smug he looks about it, but it doesn’t really matter. You like the lunge, you love it, even; it appeals to something inside of you, a need to be needed, to be wanted, that has you putty in his hands with one single move.

There is time.

You convince yourself that you still have time, and that maybe rushing around the empty apartment at 7 in the morning is not needed. Minho sleeps like a log, and unless you break something, he’s not waking up. And even if you break something, he might not wake up… or he might just not care. The later hurts a little, but you’re used to being hurt by him and you accept that you have no one else to blame but yourself… after all, you’re the one that told him you wanted something like this– casual, noncommital, stress free.

All in all, the plan is supposed to be fail proof. It’s that youthful impulsive behaviour, you see, and you are quite embarrassed to admit it, but you are not, in your core, a casual person. You are not noncommital and stress free. If anything, you are probably the most commital and stressed person you know, dedicating a full 110% of yourself to everything you do. It’s why you are always so tired, so burnt out… it’s why you avoid, with everything you have, debates and discussions. You just don’t have the energy to do all that anymore. You are still young, but you’re not stupid, anymore, and that’s what changed.

Sitting on the couch as you pull your sweater down, you sigh. “What the fuck am I doing?” It’s laughable, the amount of times you sat on that couch and asked yourself that exact question. Your friends don’t even want to hear about this anymore; they get annoyed, with you, with the situation, with him, and it’s always the same. 'You’re too good for him' or 'he doesn’t deserve you.' They are not wrong, but there’s only so many times you can try to tell them that you know that. You know; you know better than they ever will, and as much as you embrace their annoyance as love, you’re annoyed too. You want to vent too. You want to laugh about stupid shit Minho does too. You want to make all the mistakes you just weren’t allowed to make when you were supposed to make them, and he is definitely one of them. You want to not have to think about everything al the time, to be right all the time, to make the smart choice all the time. You want to simply not think all the time, and better than anyone else, Minho lets you not do that.

“Arms up.”

It is easy to ignore the bossy tone of his voice when his mouth is working on your neck, kissing, licking, biting. It feels good– it always feels good and, sometimes, it feels too good. Right now, however, it just… feels good. Feels peaceful and serene. It’s like time doesn’t matter when you’re kissing him, like all you have to do is follow his lead and not think and you love that. You love that feeling, even if you don’t love him. “Good girl,” He whispers, smiling as he pulls your sweater over your head.

It’s cold outside. Really cold, actually, and you shiver the moment the air hits your skin, goosebumps littering your arms as you shiver. Minho is on it, though, warm hands touching you all over, spreading a path of fire through your back and stomach and arms and breasts. “Cold?” He asks, and it’s a stupid questions, but it makes you giggle. These are the moments that are okay to pretend… okay to pretend he cares, with his hands tracing patterns all over until your bra goes missing, your pants are open, and his fingers are slowly brushing against your wet underwear. With his voice, mellow and soft, whispering sweet nothings and everythings against your ear, calling you all the names he knows you like to hear. With his restrain, cock hard against his jeans but not rushing or pushing until he knows you’re good and ready for him.

The thing about his house is that, as much as his living room is this sea of mood lighting and comfort, his windows run from the floor to the ceiling. You dream of the day you’d be brave enough to fuck him right there, on the same couch you two always start but never end– but right across the street is a bar, filled to brim every night you’re there, almost as if he had invited a crowd to watch you crumble at his fingertips. “Room,” You gasp, air being knocked out of your lungs just as his fingers tug your underwear to the side, teasing your entrance while playing with your clit. It’s amazing, how he moves his hand in the little space your pants allow him to, but with every push and pull of his fingers inside you, you gasp. Minho knows your body just like you know his– he knows what you like and it just so happens, he likes it too. Likes seeing you like that, breathless and limp; likes kissing you as you moan his name, wiggling on his lap as you make out on his couch. Likes when you beg him, to go to the room, to speed it up, to make you cum. He likes being in power, you assume, as much as he might not like you.

“You wanna go to the room?” He chuckled, speeding up his movements in a way that has you too distracted to event think. “Not a fan of exihibitionism, are you?” You would have laughed if that wasn’t the exact moment he chooses to pull his hand out, fingers dragging up, up, up to your clit for a little tease. A taste of what you can you have if you just let him work. “Come on, let’s go.” But before he can even take a step towards the familiar room, you tug him by the collar for a kiss, filthy and wet, and you basically rip his shirt off of his body. He is soft and hard at the same time, pun intended. For a man, he takes a lot of care of himself, and you envy the clear and soft skin of his chest, feeling self conscious about the blemishes you know you have. It’s an anxious impulse to pick at your arms, and it’s times like these that makes you cuss are your longish nails.

You forget all about it when he moans at the feeling of those same nails scratching down his chest, stopping just below his bellybutton. These moments are rare, you never have a chance to have some resemblance of control in how things unfold between you two, but something about it makes your eyes twinkle… and you want more. “Fuck, Y/N, you’re so hot.” And you are– you feel like you are and that’s all that matters as you pop the button open, making space for your hand to slide down, under pants and underwear, to grab a hold of him. “Oh…”

There’s a draft coming from the room, where he insists on sleeping with the window upen as snow covers the entire street outside in white, and you shiver almost the same way you did last night. Except this time, you don’t have his sweaty, overheated body on top of yours, and it’s not as pleasant anymore. You’re not sure how long you’ve been sitting on that couch, but you do know it’s time to get up and go. At one point or another, Minho will notice the empty space next to him in bed, and you don’t wish to be there to find out if he cares enough to come look for you or not.

You grab your jacket as if it’s made of glass. He hangs them neatly at the front door, which is right next to the room entrance, and you are scared to even step on his wooden floors. If the wood gives you away, then you are not sure you’ll have the guts to face him again. Usually, when you leave like this, doing the classic Irish goodbye and disappearing for a couple of weeks or so until someone falters. To be fair, so far, t’s an equal score. You wonder if there is an unspoken agreement between you two that dictates whose turn is it to text first… last night, it had been him.

“Fuck!” You moan, and just like before, you wiggle in place in a silent plea. Sometimes, in your opinion, Minho takes too long with his teasing, but you know it’s on purpose. Like how he is right now, brushing the tip of his dick between your folds. If it wasn’t for the condom, you’d feel the way he leaks in excitement. But alas, that’s one level of intimacy you are not, and never will be, ready to have with him. Someone, maybe, just not… him. You will never give yourself that fully to Lee Minho, because you did, once upon a time two years ago, and it was a struggle to get yourself back. “Minho, please, please just– oh my god…”

He’s a calculated lover. He knows just when to push and pull, and just then, as you beg and buckle your hips into him, hoping to feel that delicious, burning stretch of him, he pushes. Despite everything, you don’t quite like feeding his ego, and so you try and hold back the whimper that threatens to escape.

The build up of sex with Minho is slow. He pauses, moaning into your neck as he gives you a couple of seconds to get used to the feeling of him. “Y/N, fuck,” He whispers, moving to give you a bruising kiss and that’s when you know your time is done. The way he pulls back and pushes in again, and again, and again starts to build up inside of you, making you throw your head back into the pillow, fingers sinking into his back. You enjoy keeping him close, knees pushed up to his hips trying to feel him deeper, harder. You like the way he picks up the pace little by little, hipbones harsh in how they snap against yours, letting you know you’d be sore for next day with the echoes of his skin on yours. “Minho!” You moan, feeling his harsh breathing on your cheeks. A shiver runs up your spine when he fucks you harder, mouth everywhere until he finds bliss sucking marks on your chest. “Fuck, baby, please, please, please–” At this point, you’re not even sure what you’re asking for, just wanting to feel that tension in your stomach explode and tingle everywhere, blanking you out from existence.

It’s not an easy job, making you cum, but he never fails to impress you with how determined he is. Not that he has ever been successful, but as you explained before, it’s not about the destination, but the journey. Sometimes, you think the reason why he keeps calling you back is the fact that you are a challenge. Sure, he had made you cum with his mouth before, those sinful lips wrapping around your most sensitive part as sucking like he was trying to drink you fully. Or those hands– long fingers drawing an orgasm out of you as if he was simply beckoning you to come closer and closer to him. But cumming from his dick, as much as your mind loved the fantasy, is hard. It’s more of a you thing than a him thing, but he is relentless in his mission. He pushes away from you, as much as your grabby hands try to keep him in place, and raises to his full glory, standing on his knees while holding your hips up to match his erratic rhythm. “So tight… feels so fucking good,” He groans, bringing one leg over his shoulder and you can’t handle it anymore. It’s odd, feeling this good yet feeling pain at the same time. Your leg is cramping up, and your hands are holding onto the bedsheets so tightly you might just crack your fingers out of place, and your core… god, your core is on fire.

“Minho, please, just– oh my– cum, please baby,” Your twisting your whole body in a sensation that is foreign to you, and for a moment, everything stops. This is the first time you know it’s coming… you feel it, so close yet so far, and just as you’re about to tip over the edge, that euphoric sensation starting to spread in advance as your stomach coiled tighter and tighter as he pounded into you harder and harder… until he groans, impossibly loud, and his hips slow down to a stop. “You have got to be kidding me.”

What comes after is not that important– mainly because it’s not you, even as he slides his body down the bed, throwing your legs on his shoulders to get to work. If there is one thing Minho excels at, besides driving you absolutely nuts, is coaching you to the brink. It’s a shame, really, that you panic early, never letting him push you off the edge and make you cum so hard you scream his name in that high-pitched tone he loves teasing you about.

It’s a hard relationship you have with yourself, really. On one hand, that’s the only reason you’re there, the sex, the panting, the hours that pass by and you don’t even notice. But then, on the other hand, as much as you chase that orgasmic feeling like a madwoman, you don’t want it to end. No the sex, no– sometimes, all you want is for it to end, because you’re close, so so close to cumming that you might just ruin it all.

You don’t want to lose.

If you cum, you lose. It’s a sick game, and you’re playing it with no one else besides you, but you refuse to lose. This time, you’re on fucking top.

This time, if anyone is getting heartbroken, is him. If anyone is ending up on the floor crying, it’s him. If anyone is desperate for answers, it’s him.

This time, if anyone is losing, it’s fucking Lee Minho.

“Leaving early again.”

Chuckling, you don’t really acknowledge him yet, finishing tying your boots and wrapping your scarf around your neck, your chin, your face. You cover everything his eyes trace, smirking under the soft fabric and enjoying how it brushes over your lips so gently… he’s never that gentle with you, so it’s a welcoming contrast, your inanimate scarf to Minho.

It’s cold out, cold enough for the little skin you have on show to numb. With every step you take away from him, you numb. With every goodbye wave, every nonchalant glance, every uncaring smile– you’re numb to the point of feeling like you’re hypothermic. The cold, you find, opening his front door, only brings you back to a state of being you’re awfully too familiar with.

“What can I say,” You shrug, refusing to admit the defeat that is when he simply leans against the wall, smirking as if he knows what you’re going to say next. “I have nothing else to do here.” And with that, you step out, ignoring the pang in your stomach when the door actually slams shut behind you.

You can’t lost, you remind yourself one more time, marching to the subway station just a block away.

You can’t lose because if you lose, you lose him. And if you lose him, you’re numb forever.

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

Hi lovelies!!! Oh my god, this one was a wild ride >.< I hope you guys enjoy it, my little heart needed to write this as a venting session haha

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earthtoharlow · 1 year ago

Text

Flashing Lights

Jack Harlow x SingerOC

Series Masterlist

8) Every Kind of Way

“Maryse, I love how hard working you are but are you seriously writing another song this close to the deadline?”

Maryse was currently in the studio working on a new song. The last couple days she’s locked herself up in the studio and played every single track over and over again making sure it was perfect. This was her debut album and she had a lot to prove.

“Yes, CoCo. I promise this is the last song. Besides, I'm almost done with it.” She replied before picking up her guitar and strumming chords.

“Ok well, while you continue writing more love songs about Jack I’m going to draft up your schedule for the next couple months.”

Maryse rolled her eyes and continued harmonizing to herself. She didn’t even want to think about how busy she was going to be. TV appearances, photoshoots, magazine interviews, private concerts, listening parties, signings, tour rehearsals and it all ended with performing at the Video Music Awards and then going straight to the world tour.

Pushing that to the back of her mind she thought about her feelings for Jack. CoCo was right, she was writing a lot of love songs for him, half of which wasn’t going to make the album.

She had never liked someone this much. Music was her only source to express how deeply she feels for him…other than telling him of course.

Just as she was falling into the rabbit hole of thinking about Jack, he texted her asking if he could stop by the studio to show her something he was working on, Maryse immediately told him yes.

He arrived 20 minutes later with his laptop in hand. “Hey, babe.” Jack said walking over to where she was sitting on the couch, plopping down next to her after giving her a kiss on the forehead.

Butterflies swirled in her stomach as he sat close to her, it amazed her how she still felt nervous around him, months later.

Putting her guitar down, she sat cross legged and gave her his full attention.

“I’ve got this song I’ve been working on and I’m pretty sure I’m going to make it my second single off the album.” Jack said as he fumbled around with the keys on the laptop. Maryse could tell he seemed nervous to show her.

“Well, I’m excited to hear it!” Maryse wasn’t lying with that statement. Jack had been pretty secretive when it came to this album, not telling her much about it.

Jack bit his lip right before he pressed play. “Promise me you’ll give me your honest opinion, okay?”

“I promise.”

Jack took a deep breath and pressed play.

I been a (G), throw up the (L)

Sex in the (A-M), uh-huh

(O-R-O-U-S, yeah)

And I can put you in (first class, up in the sky)

A huge smile creeped on Maryse’s face as she heard the sample. She couldn’t believe it as she nodded her head and sung along. As the song came to an end the smile never left her face.

“So, what did you—“ Jack couldn’t even finish what he was saying before Maryse reached over and wrapped her arms around him, words coming out in a squeal

All Jack could do was laugh as he wrapped his arms around her. “So you like it?”

“Are you kidding me?! I fucking love it!” She could see Jack immediately relax at her approval.

Letting out a happy sigh, she continued. “One of our first conversations was you telling me about how much you loved Fergie as a child and now you’re sampling one of her biggest tracks, I’m so proud of you.” Maryse told him honestly.

Jack's face warmed when hearing her say that, dropping his head shyly.

“Thanks, M. When I was recording this I was telling the whole room it was a hit, but no one seemed to believe me.”

“Well, no offense but they’re idiots.”

Jack bumped his shoulders against hers as they both laughed.

Maryse perked up with an idea. “Prove them wrong.” Jack raised an eyebrow confused. “Prove who wrong? And how?”

“Post a teaser of First Class on Tik Tok and see how the world responds to it. When it goes viral, like I know it will, your team will be eating their words!”

JACKHARLOW

liked by summerwalker, lifeofmonet, dojacat, champagnepapi, neelamthadhani,urbanwyatt, druski, chloebailey and 967,456 others

jackharlow: First Class out NOW!

view all 12,567 comments

user: AAAAAAAH

user: maryse is so gorgeous

user: 😍

user: you made this song for the bitches!!

user: sweet sweet sweet semen is crazy

lifeofmonet: no free promo!

user: 🤣🤣🤣

user: wait is that maryse in the song saying “I am”

user: FINALLY

user: classic already

***

Jack rushed around the hotel room ignoring the laughs from Urban who was sitting in the corner of the room rolling a joint.

“Dude, you’re sunburned BAD!”

He groaned at the reminder. He had spent the weekend in Turks and Caicos with Drake recording music and jet skiing which left his arms and face red as a tomato. The sun was never on his side.

Jack had just stepped off his private jet having taken a red eye to New York. Maryse was having a private concert for her fans to celebrate her album that was coming out in a few weeks. He wanted to surprise her since she wasn’t expecting him back in town for another day.

The show starts in an hour and Jack still needed to find something to wear, if he didn’t leave in the next 15 minutes. He was going to be late.

Quickly deciding on a pair of cargos and a hoodie, Urban and him rushed to the venue hoping he would make it in time to wish Maryse good luck.

Because of traffic he wasn’t able to surprise Maryse before she got on stage. The show was about to start in 5 minutes. The stage crew was making sure the microphone and instruments were in the right place as the DJ played the last song. Jack pulled his hood over his head so he didn’t draw too much attention as he and Urban made their way to the friends and family section.

Once in his seat he greeted Doja and Saweetie as they were both shocked to see him there.

“Maryse ain’t gonna be able to focus when she sees your sunburnt self in the crowd!” Saweetie said jokingly, Jack just rolled his eyes as Doja and Urban laughed around him.

“NYC! Show some love for Maryse Monet!”

***

Maryse was doing her vocal runs to herself backstage while she mentally prepared herself for tonight’s show. This was going to be the first time fans, friends and family were going to hear the new music from the album, needless to say she was nervous. And she wished Jack was there. She hadn’t heard from him much today, too busy in the studio with Drake.

Noticing she was nervous, Coco placed both her hands on her shoulders.

“You’re going to kill it tonight. Like you always do. Just take a deep breath.”

Maryse took a deep breath and simply nodded. She checked her phone once more seeing if Jack messaged her, frowning when she saw no new messages. Luckily she didn’t have time to harp on it as the DJ introduced her to the crowd. Taking one last deep breath, she walked on stage.

The crowd screamed in excitement as Maryse walked on the stage. Maryse kept her outfit casual as she wore a red mesh top with a long orange jacket and denim shorts. Her long curly hair flowed down her back.

The nerves immediately went away as she saw the sold out venue, smile spreading across her face.

“If you guys didn’t know, my name is Maryse!” She paused as the crowd cheered louder

The opening chords of Focus started playing as Maryse placed her mic back on the mic stand. As she began to sing she couldn’t help but smile as the crowd swayed and sung along to every word.

After about 5 songs, Maryse grabbed a drink of water from the side of the stage as a stagehand adjusted her mic and placed a stool down.

As she sat back on the stool she looked up and waved to Doja, Saweetie. “I have some friends here tonight, hey Doja and Saweetie!” She laughed as the crowd screamed, trying to catch her friend’s attention. Maryse squinted a little when she noticed Urban sitting next to them as well. Smiling to herself, thinking Jack must have told him to come since he couldn’t be there himself.

“Ok, y’all I got one more song tonight for you. But I have a question, how many of y’all are in loooove?” She asked, putting emphasis on the word love.

Maryse nodded at the cheers from the audience. “Falling in love is so scary, but you know what? It’s one of my favorite feelings in the world. I think I might be in love too.”

The crowd cheered loudly at the admission, some even cheering Jack’s name. “This next song is called Every Kind of Way.”

The crowd was silent as she began singing. It wasn’t until she got to the chorus when she started to feel chills. Glancing up in the friends and family section, that’s when she spotted him. Jack was standing behind Doja, towering over her because of his height.

They both locked eyes. All her focus was on Jack now. It didn’t matter that they’ve only been dating for 4 months. She knew for certain that she loved that man. It was like she was speaking to him as she sung.

I wanna love you in every kind of way, I wanna please you, no matter how long it takes, If the world should end tomorrow and we only have today, I'm gonna love you in every kind of way

Tears were threatening to fall as she sung those words to Jack. A smile creeped on her face as he blew her kiss in greeting. The smile on Jack’s face widened when he watched her pretend to grab the kiss he blew, kissing it and placing it in her pocket.

She loved him, and couldn’t wait to get off stage and tell him.

***

Maryse was fidgety with excitement when a knock sounded on the door of her dressing room, rushing to open the door she couldn’t hide her disappointment when it was just CoCo.

“Oh, hey.” Opening the door wider to let her manager in.

“Okay, rude. Jack will be here in a second. I'm just grabbing my laptop that I left.”

Just as she was about to apologize for her reaction, there was another knock, but this time they didn’t wait for her to answer the door.

The man Maryse wanted to see walked in. Jack stood at the door after closing it, holding his arms out for Maryse to jump in them.

“I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU'RE HERE!” Maryse squeaked, face buried inside his neck. Jack squeezed her tightly, before walking them both to the loveseat. He leaned forward and kissed her, moaning into her mouth.

Their legs and arms and mouths became two missing pieces of a puzzle, fitting together effortlessly.

The chair was small and cramped.

It’s perfect.

“Oh, this is my que to leave.” Coco said leaving the dressing room.

Jack and Maryse didn’t even hear her, too wrapped into each other.

Pulling away, Jack spoke first. “You did amazing tonight. The crowd loved you.”

Love.

There goes that word again.

Maryse watched with a smile as Jack rambled about the show, and the songs she performed.

“Hey, Jack?” Maryse said, interrupting him.

“Hm?”

“I love you.”

Jack froze at the words. Maryse was praying that she didn’t just fuck things up.

“I know, it might seem too soon but—“ It was Jack’s turn to interrupt now, but this time with a kiss. Both of their hearts were beating out their chest.

“I can’t remember what it’s like to wake up and not have you be the first thing on my mind. Every morning, I roll over and check and see if you’ve called. I wanted you to be mine the second I laid eyes on you at the Grammy’s.” He told her.

Maryse was looking at Jack with so much love and appreciation that it made his chest hurt. The smile on her face was beautiful, he thought to himself. The tears that were streaming down her cheeks were beautiful. She was beautiful and so was her love.

“I love you, Maryse Monet.”

Maryse exhales a soft breath and leans in slowly gently pressing her lips to his.

“I love you so much it feels like a constant flow spilling into my soul.”

She pressed another kiss to his lips, feeling speechless. This kiss was filled with tenderness and affection. It felt like an unspoken promise that she was his now. Forever.

Maryse pulled away, wiping the tears that fell from Jack’s face. “You know this means you’re stuck with me.”

Jack couldn’t help but laugh at that.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

It was silent for a moment as Maryse rested her head on his chest.

"Also, you look like you got in a fight with the sun."

Jack groand as Maryse's giggles echoed through the room.

***

An: OUR BBS ARE BACK!!!! sorry this took so long, I've been busy but next update won't take that long I promise

Tag List:

(message me if you’d like to be added or removed)

@heavyhitterheaux @hoodharlow @neon-lights-and-glitter @babiefries @toocriticalharlow @mace23477 @jackmans-poison @dstark-0706 @harlowsbby @itsyagirljaz @leftapricotprofessorlover @ilyangelsxo @comehomeimissyou @minkookie95 @harlowcomehome @jackharloww @w1ldthoughts @hufflewhore128

#jack harlow #flashing lights #Jack Harlow x oc #jack harlow concepts #Jack Harlow x black oc #social media au #Jack harlow reader

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imagineanime2022 · 1 year ago

Text

MHA Characters With Teen Reader (Platonic) *Part 2*

Dabi X Reader, Tomura Shigaraki X Reader, Kai Chisaki X Reader

Requested: Anon

Request: Heyy! So I LOVE HOW U WRITE the LOV with platonic teen reader. And I had an idea where fem!teen!reader gets a s/o and the LOV gets overprotective and want to meet them and stuff. Characters would be: Dabi, Shigaraki and Overhaul (Ik he isn't part of the league but still 💀)! Tyy

*Part 1*

Dabi

🔥 Dabi hadn’t expected this to be a problem, especially not while he was still breathing but here he was watching you giggle at some teenage idiot hanging around the back alleys. 🔥 You don’t even realise that he is watching leant against the wall of the alley as you talk and get closer until he clears his throat. 🔥 “Who’s this?” “Just a friend” “Close for a friend.” “Let’s just go.” 🔥 His eyes never left the kid that you had been talking to even when you stood right in front of him, so you grabbed his hand and pulled him along until he finally turned to look at you. 🔥 “You like them?” “No.” “Don’t lie to me, I hate it when people lie to me.” “Would you hurt them if I told the truth?” “No.” “I like them a little.” 🔥 Dabi had no way to get any information, so he waited until he could catch the kid alone. 🔥 “So what are you hoping to gain from them?” “Excuse me.” “I’m not repeating myself, we both know you heard me.” “Gain? Someone who cares for me.” “Cares for you… I hope you care for them as much as they care for you, if not there won’t be anything left to find.” 🔥 Dabi isn’t one to believe in love, or finding in the life that you had both chosen to live but you were important enough to him that he would let you have what made you happy. 🔥 He hopes that the relationship continues in the best manor and if it does it he would be happy for you, he’d never admit instead replace that with teasing and dismissal. 🔥 However if it ends badly trust me when I say he will fulfil the threat unless you want the honour in which case he’ll clean up after you, make sure neither one of you are caught.

Tomura Shigaraki

✋ Shigaraki cares for you far more than anyone would have thought and he had far too much power at his disposal. ✋ When he walked into the bar to see you sitting at a table with some kid he couldn’t recognise, he knew most of the ‘would be’ villains around here and all the homeless kids that hung around looking for food or work. ✋ “(Y/N)! Come here!” “Yeah?” “Who have you invited into my bar?” “Kurogiri’s bar.” “Don’t get smart.” “They’re just talking to me.” “And if they are a spy?” “Then I’m sure you will tell me soon enough.” ✋ Shigaraki looked at the child that had been sitting with you, he didn’t trust them and he never would, he’d be civil for you, well kind of. ✋ “I’ll kill you if you hurt them.” “Y-yes sir.” ✋ Shigaraki would have someone from the league follow you when you start meeting them outside of the bar, where he could not see you. ✋ God help you if you start lying to him, he’d honestly just kill the love interest out of spite, so don’t lie to him. ✋ If things go well then he’ll leave you as you are but don’t expect him to give you anything more than that, he won’t congratulate you or even acknowledge the relationship really but that has nothing to do with who it is, just that there is anyone at all. ✋ If things don’t go well, you can expect to find the ex-partner on the floor in the bar, begging for their life and they will die, Shigaraki will make sure of it, even if you beg him not to. ✋ He’ll just send the kid home to die, far from your eyes and convince you that the kid moved away.

Kai Chisaki

💉 He knew before you even knew, he had been watching you and the newest member of the Mafia for a while, he could see what they wanted from you. 💉 He found out everything that he needed to know about them before he even thought about entertaining the idea of a relationship. 💉 When you finally tell him about your new friend he didn’t say anything, in fact you were almost convinced that he didn’t hear you, until a couple of days later when he addressed the new information. 💉 “So your new friend… Are you sure that they are here for you?” “What does that mean?” “You are higher than most in this organisation, you think that they want you for you.” “Is that so hard to believe?” “Make me believe it.” 💉 Kai is happy to lose you to this argument because he’s sure that he’s right, he had done his work without you before and he’d do it again (even if he would miss you). 💉 That being said he would not let someone take you from him without a fight, it may be different love but it was love all the same. 💉 “What do you intend to take from them?” “Take? Nothing.” “Do not lie to me!” “What could I take from them? They have nothing!” “They have whatever they want, I make sure of that. They want you so for now that is what they get.” 💉 From there on there was no arguments about the relationship however you always had a guard and you cleaned yourself thoroughly before interacting with him again. 💉 If the relationship going right, they would likely get more from him and when he’s sure that he can trust them they would earn their place next to you. 💉 If it went terribly, the Mafia had a way of dealing with scum, Kai would give you the choice of participation but you would be there to see it, you will remember what deceit looks like so you never fall for it again.

Request Here!!

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kusagrasskusa · 2 years ago

Note

Hi there! so i have read your request rules and i have no idea if i can find if they are opened or closed but if they’re closed, please do not take this!

Raiden finding his S/O dead after a argument. Not a suicide, just a murder. I’m about to go all out on these details. 😭

So S/O and Raiden got into a argument about his safety and what not and they separate for a few hours (not break up, just avoiding.) He noticed how the house they shared got a bit to quiet. He went to go and find her, but found her dead on the living room floor dead with a tranquilizer (filled with poison) in her neck. I know my request is crappy and probably makes no sense whats so ever. 💔 But if this is not crappy to you, you can write it! But if your request are closed, you don’t have to. Also, no happy endings for NOBODY. 😍

But thats all for my request. Ty for your time!

Ohhh I like this!! Thank you so much for your request! I love it whenever people give me a scenario with details, it makes it easier for me to write and not worry about if the requester will like it 😂❤️ But fr though, happy endings are no bueno… life just isn’t gonna be a happy place, especially if you’re named Y/N 😈 or in this case, Raiden too

Also I found this sexy piece of art from u/all-men-die on r/MortalKombat!! All credit goes to them! And also, Raiden has hair in this hehe.. sorry not sorry 😋❤️

And I’ll update my Request Rules after I post this!

Raiden finding S/O dead after an arguement

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎ ⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎ ⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆

Shinnok had been given a fate worse than death and his blood may fall to Raiden’s hands. He was no longer the thunder god Y/N had married- no, he was someone else entirely. Y/N was a human but it didn’t take a genius to learn of Shinnok’s amulets’ doing to her husband as suddenly his mercy had disappeared overnight a while ago. Ever since then it had been a weight on her shoulders; this was a man who killed those who he believed to be a threat to his ideologies unlike the man who had once advocated to protect Earthrealm at all costs, and murder was only needed in certain cases. A genocide against all his foes was something Y/N couldn’t sleep at night to the thought of. Who had her husband became?

Y/N was biting her lip in thought, leaning over her kitchen counter. Her eyes were blank as she daydreamed, and her focus only broke whenever her husband had suddenly walked in through the front door. It was a little house she lived in near the sky temple that was provided by her dear husband, though now, it almost felt like a prison. “Raiden?” She called out instinctively as she turned her head towards the front door. The lightning god himself and stepped in, removing his conical sedge hat and sighing.

“Hello, dear,” he replied with a tired voice. Y/N was easily the mother type whenever it came towards caring for her husband, and simply hearing that string of tiredness made her anxious. She quickly made her way over to her husband as his hair dropped down and a little tangled, making her frown. “I have something important to discuss with you.” Y/N wrapped her arms around her husband with a feeling of dread in her stomach, but nodded softly.

She knew her husband had something bad to say, but never this.

“Raiden, how could you!” Y/N seethed, her eyebrows furrowed and her eyes wide with rage. “Why in the heavens would you be so irrational? Do you ever think about yourself in those moments?”

Raiden’s emotionless stare was enough to tell her he wasn’t at all feeling guilty for this actions. “Shinnok was the greatest threat to Earthrealm. I would have thought you to be more reasonable,” he replied in a serious tone, “had I not put an end to him, you may never know what evils he would bestow upon Earthrealm again.”

Sickening; Y/N felt like vomiting just then. Raiden had come home from torturing Shinnok and then beheading him. Yes, the Elder God was a cruel creature however how could Raiden act on such torture? Whether one agrees that Shinnok deserved it or not must understand the one who enacted on this was someone who would have never done something like this just a little bit before now. “This isn’t you, Raiden,” she hissed, standing up from the couch. “Will you subject anyone who defies you to such torture? A fate worst than death? Had you ever considered the effect of your actions? Had you ever considered the effects on you?”

Zzzz-CRACK the lightning went, appearing from no where. Y/N gasped and fell from her seat. Raiden stood up off of the couch, towering over her. “Y/N, I don’t suppose you are defending him, are you?” Lightening trailed off of his body in a threatening manner, which she would have thought attractive if she wasn’t at the victim of it. Her moment of fear quickly passed as she shot up off the ground. The lightning quickly disappeared as if quickly realized his mistake.

“Raiden, until you are thinking more clearly, I want you away from me. It’s for your own safety, and it seems I must think of my own when I’m around you as well.”

The look in his eyes were obvious that he was sorry. Though the words didn’t come out since he knew the way his wife would get- she wouldn’t accept it until she feels better. He nodded his head and began to walk down the hall and into their shared bedroom, leaving Y/N to look out at him as he walked. She felt a pain in her chest when she watched him leave but… what just happened? Who was that man who had just threatened her just then? It couldn’t have been the same god she fell in love with.

She let out a little gasp as she spun around, having heard the door open. Did Raiden walk around her without her noticing and tried to leave?

No, he had been in the bedroom for at least a few minutes at this point. He laid in their bed, hands on his head, as he processed what was going on. “Dearest, I hope you’ll understand one day,” he mumbled, “but please forgive me. I had stepped out of line and made you feel threatened.” He spoke as if he were praying to her for her forgiveness which he sort of was. Why, she’s the (now) immortal wife of the lightning god. She’s close enough, is she not?

And to a mortal praying to their god, him praying to his dearest wife is something just as dear if not more. He promised eternity’s worth of protection and love yet he had almost broken the first promise. How could he make up for it? As he sensed the amulet’s energy off of him, he sighed, “perhaps it has darkening my judgement… No, this is it. I shall no longer let this evil cloud the better of my mind.” He seethed through his teeth as guilt began to wallow inside it. Dammit, what had he done?

However, the deafening silence as minutes and minutes to half an hour has passed made it a little hard to think. “That is it,” he decided, getting up out of bed, “no more fighting until they call me to it.” He smiled softly, combing his hair with his fingers as he walked out of the bedroom. Actually, during one of his thought processes, he decided to change out of his regular gear and put on a special outfit his dear Y/N made for him during one of his trips. It was soft, warm and had obviously had the perfect loving touch of his wife and so he felt like it would perhaps appease her to see him have it. As he stepped out into the living room, he looked around- no one.

“Y/N?” He called out softly, furrowing his eyebrows. He made his way around the couch, calling out, “Dear, I know I have upset you, but-… Y/N?” He voice was the most unstable anyone had ever heard of the pronounce lord, however whenever he saw his wife laying on her back, wide eyed, and mouth gapped on the floor, he was more distraught than he had ever been in his entire immortal life.

“Y/N!!!” Running to her side, he lifted her head up as his breathing hitched and grew unstable. He felt like he was being choked. Beneath her hair was a tranquilizer filled with a foggy substance, and he yanked out and threw it across the room. His fingers ran over her pulse as he checked, praying- praying the fucking gods above for the sanctity of this situation. “Y/N please! How could i have let this happen?” He cried upon no pulse. He urgently picked her up in his arms and teleported to the SS base where Johnny and Cassie were per usual- and upon his arrival, they were quick to hear of his presence.

Y/N had quickly been taken into their poison control and as Raiden stood by her side and learned there was nothing they could do to being her back, it was so clear to see how the color had drained off of him.

“That is all?” He asked distaughtly, his eyes not even being able to focus on anything. “There is nothing to be done?”

Raiden obviously knew the answers. He had been around and seen it happen for millions of years but this mortal- this woman- was something that had exceeded all his expirences and knowledge together. He never knew he could love someone as much as this woman who now lay lifeless with a bag over her. This is what he remembers warning his brother about before entering Earthrealm. He remembers warning him of the dangers of falling in love or getting too close. Yet in the end, he had tasted the feeling love brings and had felt incredible loss his mind was not capable of comprehending.

Now, he no longer had a reason to care for those who inflict pain on Earthrealm and their inhabitants.

And with how he let his wife die, he no longer cares for himself either.

#mortal kombat x reader #mortal kombat #mk x reader #reader insert #mk mortal kombat #mortal kombat x #mk10 #mk11 #mkx mortal kombat x #raiden x you #raiden x y/n #raiden x reader #mk raiden #mortal kombat raiden #sad :(

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butterflyeffectiooon · 10 months ago

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Trying not to think too hard about this bc the last episode hasn’t even come out yet but when you break up with someone and then don’t see or talk to them for presumably a pretty significant amount of time are you really just gonna fall immediately back in love as soon as u reunite?? Maybe they will have talked before they actually meet again who knows but HOW are they gonna believably get them back together in probably at most 3/4 of an episode??? Are they??? To undo the hurt and betrayal they both felt at the end of the last ep I feel like it would take a whole new slow re-burn for them to get back together… yes I know mhok is THE simp of all time and I love him for that but I’d like to think he has at least a shred of dignity and wouldn’t just jump back into day’s arms after being hurt so deeply by the person he loved the most in the world ALSO it would be DELICIOUS to have day chase mhok this time around but there is simply not enough screen time available at this point for that to happen properly which is so unfortunate bc now that I thought of it I really want to see it and that could probably cancel out all the things I didn’t like to say the least about the last few eps. I am busting out the clown makeup right now, in fact I have never wanted to be a clown more in my life, but I’m thinking we’re getting an open ending at best. MAYBE a rushed and not fulfilling/earned happy ending but that’s almost worse and if they dare to give us a sad ending (or day can see again) I’m literally digging a hole in the ground and holding a funeral service for this show

#truly my LT posts are not trying to be persuasive or anything it’s just me running at the mouth #and trying to sort out my feelings with the hope that everything can be salvaged but only convincing myself harder that that won’t be the #case #and if u read them like girl what the fuck are u on about and u wanna convince ME of something please feel free to try like I soooo want #them to stick the landing on this show #OR if ur like YEAH I feel u then let’s be disappointed together!!!!! commiseration!!!#last twilight #in my defense I did TRY to stop posting…. it didn’t WORK but I did try

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greenerteacups · 1 year ago

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have a few questions for u! i loved your latest chapter, i believe it’s my favourite one to date together with the yule ball special :)

01. since u’re writing a (very intense) re-write of book 1 to 7 canon, how happy/sad were you about draco’s arc in the books and films? it always bugged me that him and the slytherins didn’t get to shine that much in both aspects, and that’s why we never really got to appreciate them a lot when the books and films came out. would love to hear your take on this!

02. not sure if this has been asked before, but what thing/s inspired you to write lionheart? i recall reading it was because of your love for to all the young dudes, but i’d love to hear you talk about this more

03. if j* r****** weren’t as awful a person as she was (and so terribly closed minded too) do you think there would have been a way for draco and hermione to be together in canon, or at least be some level of friends, if not together romantically?

04. i’m a narcissa black-malfoy apologist and stan, and can i just say, THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU for writing her in such a beautiful and heartbreaking way. i cannot wait to see how you write her arc in books 5-7.

05. an absolute, absolute shot in the dark - but since friday’s last update was sort of a cliff hanger - would you be open to a double update or an earlier than usual update this week? we aren’t entitled to anything but i swear to you, i was biting my nails and at the edge of my seat fr the minute i ran to the friday update. draco and sirius’s conversation was too real and too beautiful i sobbed so much.

i love you!!! may the universe bless you with all the good karma (is my boyfriend, is a god, is the breeze in my hair on the weekend)!!!

hello! thank you for all the questions, wow!! will probably answer some in separate posts because tumblr usually censors my craft glitches out when i write long asks BUT

how happy/sad were you about draco’s arc in the books and films?

[looks at 400,000 words of AU fic about draco's arc] oh yeah i feel normal and care a regular amount about it

Man, it makes me sad. It makes me sad that almost all the Death Eaters are also children of Death Eaters, establishing this as a familial cycle of violence and hatred, and that's just... left to sit there in the narrative, implicating.

Draco’s arc in particular is a flat downward descent from schoolyard bully into a fascist death cult, and it’s bleak as fuck. like, if these books are written from Draco’s POV, it is some gruesome and deeply cynical stuff, guaranteed. which is a shame, because I think “reluctant and begrudging reformed villain” is an amazing character type that he could have fulfilled perfectly. doesn’t even have to go on tour with the Golden Trio, either; because I lost hope for Redemption Arc after the end of book 6, my ideal world going into book 7 was just having Draco stuck in Grimmauld Place, being bitchy and ill-tempered about the Order’s witness-protection equivalent, while the others treat him like a house-elf. “oh, yeah, that’s Draco, he used to bully us but now he has to ask us to buy the tea he likes at the grocer’s,” etc. I mean, full redemption would have been great, and by far the most rewarding for him/me personally as a reader, but I kind of figured by the end of HBP that it wasn’t in the cards. JKR writes characters in a particular way when she’s interested in them as people, and Draco was just never written with that level of attention or care.

he’s not even given a particularly rewarding antagonist arc. he doesn’t follow through and kill Dumbledore, thus giving him something irrevocable and life-scarring to repent for; but neither does he join the Order (e.g., Disappearance), meaning his ultimate contribution to the war effort is just this listless, choiceless trend of enabling. he’s forced into the plot with the Vanishing Cabinet, but can't kill Dumbledore; he tries to hide Harry’s identity from Bellatrix in Book 7, but it doesn’t work; he tries to catch Harry in the Room of Requirement and fails, then has to be saved by Harry from fiendfyre his own incompetent sidekick conjured. cringe failson. it’s also hilarious put in contrast with this fanon we have of hypercompetent draco — it’s like we all saw him and were like god bless can we please get this man a skillset. jesus christ he is getting killed out here.

but anyway tbh I think the most character development we see from him in all 7 novels is when Hermione slaps the shit out of him in POA (call that spell of Shutting the Fuck Up the way he doesn't even try to retaliate). The bathroom scene in book 6 is huge, because it’s the first time we get a modicum of sympathy for him, but that’s not followed up on — we just sort of leave him with “yeah, that’s tough.” we don’t even know why the Malfoys go back to Voldemort, because by all accounts, they seem miserable. Lucius seems miserable even before he hits his Flop Era in book 6-7, but he’s also broadly miserable all the time when we see him (likely bc we only see him when he’s plotting/scheming/exploding in rage when Harry manages to yet again Scooby Doo one of his plots, but who knows). I think the seventh book subtly implies the Malfoys are so close with Voldemort because of Bellatrix, and [spoilers incoming] I myself lean heavily on that thread in later sequences in Lionheart, but in the books it’s up to the reader as to how much the Malfoys really believe in the Dark Lord versus just comply with his orders from fear.

#greenteacup asks #draco malfoy #lionheart #thank you! i hope karma is a relaxing thought <3 #sweet like honey etc etc

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joanie-88 · 1 year ago

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Hey guys! sooo… I thought i could write judge sans’s story! So…. Here it it!

It all begins with a regular Undertale run.. A Neutral route for that matter. The player kills some monsters yet spares others; therefore, they do not meet the requirements of either the True Pacifist Route or the Genocide Route.

The player wanted to experiment on the game, knowing that a lot of possibilities are doable. The human didn’t kill papyrus nor sans and left the other monsters alive. Sans and papyrus are the only bosses still on foot. Seeing that nothing in particular happened during the game doing so, they left.

Sans wasn’t happy with that ending. He wanted.. happiness and freedom.

But with the ending the player gave him.. he had to stick to a title. The title being not only papyrus’s brother but also the the king’s judge.

Papyrus had to Himself take the king’s trone. With that role, comes with a lot of responsibilities. Papyrus is always out of energy.

And when sans is trying to make him laugh, he doesn’t responds as he used to. He just looks at him.. and then.. continues to watch over the underground from the castle. It’s been three months now..

————————————————————————————————————

Sans needs the human to remembrer. To come back. But, nobody came.

No one ever came.

Sans tries to get the things right by joking around with the royal guards, but all he gets is a simple..

« Seriously sans, your the king’s brother. Be more serious about this. »

Be more serious they say.

He then stopped joking around with them but he still does it with his brother.

Sans couldn’t keep believing that the player would ever come back. Things would never gonna go back to what it used to be. Unless he does something for it to happen, but what?

With all the stress and responsibilities sans had on his back..

He came to his brother to kneel and admit how tired he actually is. Papyrus wanting to help, gently proposed for him to take a walk, giving him a comforting smile.

After his walk it was now around 12 am, papyrus was almost sleeping on his trone. His eyes where fighting against him.

So sans came to him and said:

« Woah, looks like your coffee goes right trough you today, am I right? »

« Yes sans, very nice.. »

« Aww I’m flattered! It’s like I have butterflies in my stomach. »

« Sans, we don’t have stomachs. »

« That’s right! But I do have butterflies tough! »

« Wh- »

Sans opens his jacket to let free 4 butterflies.

« SANS! Omg! Don’t you see that I’m not in the mood for your profanities! »

« Relax I just wanted to make you laugh a bit, u looked like a dead body. »

« Get a life sans! »

« I-… I…. » He looks down. « Im gonna let u to your work.. u seem busy. »

« Sans i didn’t- »

« Don’t sweat it.. it’s fine. Try to get some sleep tough ok? »

————————————————————————————————————

Sans has now no one he can interact with without getting pushed away.

His own brother now dismisses him. He loses hope on every angle.

He wants it to be over. To go back to when things were better.

When the player…

Sans starts a new mission, completely erasing the number one mission he had for a long time now, to be there for papyrus.

His new mission is called:

Make the player come back. No matter what it takes.

Sans began his journey of L.O.V.E.

Without any emotions, he killed the Snowdin town’s people.

He reassured himself saying that it’s gonna work, it’s worth it, he needs to. Things like that.

He checks their attacks and defenses, and makes the maximum damage from what he now knows from them.

After some time, tears started falling down, only for him to swipe it up with his dusty hands.

Then.. he heard a laugh behind the trees.

He turned suddenly to see Killer standing in front of him.

« Heyyy.. the boss wants your service. He said you still have your judgment skill. So he wants you to help him with his mission. For every single person in the multiverse to be negative, and erase positive feelings from existence. »

« Well, I was going to get the player to get here so that- »

« I’m stopping you right here my friend. The player is not coming back. Wanna know why? »

« Yes! For Asgore’s sake just tell me! »

« The player uninstalled the game by boredom and frustration, they are never coming back. »

« Then how come am I still here ? »

« Simple! They uninstalled it, they didn’t.. Delete it! =) »

« Why are you smiling like that? »

« Cause it’s funny that you thought you had a chance to bring them back by killing people lol »

« I had no other choice! »

« You did, you could have.. I don’t know, dealt with the ending you ended up with? Not blaming you, the team and I did the same.»

« I-.. ugh.. ok.. let’s say that it was fine in the beginning but.. »

« Oh, don’t let your energy run out just telling me what I already know. »

« Y-You know? »

« We all do. Now! Are you coming or what? »

« Well I don’t want to get the positive feeling to completely die, but… I don’t want to die here all alone either. Wait, what about papyrus? »

« Don’t worry the boss will inform him of your departure! »

« Uh..ok? I mean it’s super not convincing coming from a guy like you but.. i won’t make a big deal out of it.»

« Neat! Now come, take my hand. It’s better so you don’t slip into a random AU. We don’t have a good reputation. » Killer says, winking.

« Good to know? » Judge follows melancholically.

So? What do you think?

#Neutraltale #undertale #sans #original story and characters #by me!#story telling #back story #judge sans

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queenofbaws · 8 months ago

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these weeks just...just keep comin, huh??? like they don't stop or something ;P

another quick update from queenie hq: things are going to c o n t i n u e to be sporadic and strange on my end for the next couple weeks. i'm going to be hosting family, again, until roughly the end of the month, so alas, i'm not anticipating a ton of writing time. or relaxing time. or time where i'm not gritting my jaw and screaming internally. SUCH IS LIFE!

however, i'm totally psyched to report i fiiinally got to cross one long-running wip off my list (the tale(s) of the champion), and oooh the feeling of seeing a complete checkmark for that baby over on ao3 is fueling the fire for me to wrap some others up too ;P my plan for the time being is still to try and get out a chapter or two of like wringing blood in the near future, but i'm also going to be working on finally wrapping of mummy men & bathtub soup so i can open the door for other CREEPs projects. we shall see.

as always, i've thrown some snippets under the cut - strictly supermassive projects this time, hehe - and i hope you're all doing well <3

of mummy men & bathtub soup

“Uh huh. Look. I’m sure you guys have something hilarious planned for me tonight. Another A+ jumpscare courtesy of Washington Pictures, Inc. And I’m also sure that the more of this crap you get me to gobble up, the antsier all your cloak and daggers bullshit makes me, the funnier it’ll be when I fall into a swoon or whatever, but it’s not happening. Am I the brightest bulb in the lamp? No! I’m not! Am I the sort of moron who gets bit by a dog and tries to pet it a second time? Also no!”

Sam had barely started shaking her head when Fliss joined them, an unspoken question in her eyes. She latched onto her instead. “People keep talking about last night. I've heard someone mention weird stuff happening on at least three separate occasions already, so if anyone could give me just a little context, that would be so great.”

“Weird is…one way to put it,” Fliss said. “It’s not the word I would’ve picked. Freakish, maybe. Terrifying, definitely. It must’ve taken you guys forever to set that up! It was—”

“Oh no,” she breathed, dropping her head into her hands. Conrad almost expected her to sink into a nearby chair or go full-on crisscross-applesauce on the floor, so intense was her reaction. She didn’t: If anything, she set her shoulders and squared herself off, assuming the air of a battle-hardened soldier. “Okay. Okay. Okay. Listen to me. I know you think this is about you because you think everything’s about you, but I am telling you, it's not."

upcoming CREEPs project with a title that 100% spoils ALL the surprise of it and thus will not yet be included asdlkfjalskjfklsjdf

“Any word from our housetergeist?”

“Uh, not unless they suddenly share yours and Josh’s love of absolutely inscrutable inside jokes,” Ashley called back, equal measures relieved and disappointed to see the fridge decorated with the same message the guys had put up before their trip: DO THE BARTMAN. Rolling her eyes, she pulled the door open and rummaged around, making a happy little sound when she spotted what she’d wanted. “Hey,” she called again, “are you gonna be upset with me if I drink the last cream soda?”

“Josh might be!”

“I wasn’t asking about Josh, you dip! I was asking about you!”

“Oh. Then, yeah, heartbroken. I-I-I don’t know how I’ll survive! I might have to reassess this whole relationship thing. Honestly, I can’t believe you’d do something as heinous as drink the last cream soda! I thought I meant something to you!”

She grabbed the can and shut the door, groaning, “Ha ha,” before stopping cold.

The fridge magnets had moved.

a fic that started as a joke post but now has almost 40k words written for it

“Hey,” he said, giving the grate a hard shake. They all winced, pulling even farther away until they pretty much fell on top of each other. “Chill. They’re fuckin’ dead. Shit’s fine. Don’t be weird about it.”

Good deed done, he turned back around to rejoin the guys, and—fuck.

Right away, Bobby knew he didn’t like the way Chris was sizing them up. He didn’t know why he didn’t like it, he just knew it spelled trouble, one way or another.

Jack seemed to agree with him. “No,” he said long before Chris even opened his mouth. “Whatever it is you’re brewing in that snowglobe you call a skull, quit while you’re ahead. Or while you still have a head.”

“Your plan didn’t work.” For someone who usually stayed at base during their hunts on account of ‘not wanting to die the world’s stupidest death,’ Chris sure was sticking his finger awfully close to Jack’s face. That was biting range. And Jack could move quick when he wanted to. “Your plan worked even less,” he continued, moving that finger to Travis’s face instead, and Jesus Christ, that was worse!

Travis didn’t answer him. Not at first. He sucked his teeth, though. Stared at Chris’s finger. Probably thought about breaking it off if he didn’t get it out of his face. “If you don’t get that outta my face, I will break it off, so help me God.”

Yeah. Checked out.

#queenie writes supermassive #ya gurl is already exhausted and the fam hasn't even gotten here yet x_x #the past two weeks have been. so much funeral planning and let me tell you. i am not. looking forward. to the day itself lmfao #it's been. such a time over here y'all.#let me go back to sitting at the kids table i fucking hate being one of the grownups in charge of shit lmaoooooooooooooo

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perexcri · 2 years ago

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Aaaa I can’t believe there’s only six more chapters!! I’m happy for you about the new job!!

Also 🥰🥰🥰 you continue to have first sentences on a Lock. “They pull closer, and spring washes away in thunderheads and afternoon showers to reveal a sweltering summer.”

Mike basically proposing how he does is So in Character of him tbh. I also like how he didn’t Push too hard about it. (Maybe if they do end up going to the east together, they could elope👀👀👀👀).

I’ve been trying to figure out what Will’s almost,,,wistful half-longing for leaving reminds me of, and I finally figure out. I could deffo be way off base, but it’s almost like the Elvish desire for the Undying Lands. (And tho Byler are most often compared to samfrodo, I think in this scenario they would be more like Legolas and Gimli, hopefully making sure his love dearest friend gets to go with him.) ofc, again I could be way off, but just what I was thinking.

“They grow and they learn. They speak and they smile and they laugh, and when one says something too out of line, the other lets him know with sharp glares and pointed comments. Will instinctively reaches for two sets of things now no matter what, and Mike always draws close to him, as if he’s not complete without the other by his side.” This whole paragraph !!! They!!!

Cuddles!!!!! Cuddling for safety from nightmares is !!!!!! They’re getting even closer !! I’m so dndjdic. I’m so normal about them, I swear.

I really do adore this story. It’s always a nice pick me up when the day hasn’t been the best, or turns an okay day great. I hope you know how much I appreciate u, as a writer and as a friend.

Anyway I hope you are doing well, and that the project and your upcoming job (!!!) are fun and wonderful.

i knowww!! it's almost over!! i will say all of these upcoming chapters run a little longer though, so there's at least that? i promise i'm doing my best to give them their happy ending :D

(and thanks for the well wishes on the job i am excited but so nervous but i am being so brave about it)

ajlsajlasdj i am once again making a surprised pikachu face and blushing at you pointing out something about my writing. i'm glad you liked that first sentence!! it's been so fun in this fic to describe the seasons passing and what-not. my more popular fics (like to hell and back again, cheer up baby, and what a match) all have really heavy time or place constraints, so this one has been nice to be able to let it flow more naturally and see where it takes me. it's become very near and dear to my heart, so i'm especially grateful for people like you for keeping up with it!!

yeah Mike basically proposing 👀 hrrrhmhmmmm 👀

Vee,,,i am about to reveal something about myself, and i hope you can forgive me: i honestly don't know a whole lot about lord of the rings (which is really weird considering i read the first book when i was in middle school, but i digress). i trust your judgment on this though, and i am doing some furious googling just so i can learn more about it!!

i'm glad you liked that paragraph about them growing together T_T that's been one of the parts that's been absolutely gnawing at me. like i've wanted to post it ever since i wrote it, so i'm very happy it gets to be out in the world now :D and yes, they are getting closer!! literally if i thought my brain could handle it i would proofread the next chapter and post it tonight, but i am so tired lol. it should be coming out tomorrow though!! i hope so at least, or else i might explode or something

i know i already gushed about this somewhere up there in this block of text^^^ but i truly am glad you enjoy this story so much!! i enjoy all the support i get on fics ofc, but people like you who have been regularly interacting with this one have made me feel extra special. this story means a lot to me, and i'm glad it can mean something to others now or that it can be a reason to make your day a little brighter, and in the end, that's all i can really ask for out of the stuff that i write, and it's something i've learned i really enjoy doing. i used to never share stuff i wrote with other people, but i'm slowly learning that you can never know how it might affect another person, and that sometimes it's better to share and see what happens than keep it close to your chest and never let somebody else partake in what you've made

aND YOU VEE!! i hope YOU know how much i appreciate you as a friend!! you are so sweet and kind, and i always look forward to what you have to say whenever i update anything because you're always so thoughtful and have such good insight. you're such a lovely person and a wonderful light in my life as well as others'. i hope this isn't being too Out There or whatever, but when i hit a point about a month ago where i really thought i was gonna have to put this fic aside because i was so stuck on it and just dealing with my own stuff, your messages about it really helped me keep going T_T it is not a stretch at all to say that i would not be nearing the end of this fic without you, so please know that you do so much even just by the presence you have on this webbed site and in this fandom!!

i would love to say this is the only time today i've typed up a super long reply to something when i maybe should've made it shorter, but nope!! i've been responding to ao3 comments that are just a few sentences with 2-3 paragraphs tonight. guess i'm just in a Mood huh

bUT if you are willing to put up with my drivel, i just want you to know you deserve all the best!! i am wishing you glowing flowers, as well as wonderful things for the new year and your endeavors, whether big or small!! :] 💜💜💜

#ask #vee my beloved <3

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h4rring1on · 2 years ago

Note

could u do cheerleader!reader asking eddie on a date/prom and eddie thinks its some sort of joke and mocks her or somethin

𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐞

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚 𝐛𝐢𝐭, 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭’𝐬 𝐢𝐭 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐞 𝐢𝐟 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠!

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

ˋ°•*⁀➷

you and Eddie have been friends for quite a while now, even though you were a cheerleader and he was the freak, you never seem to think about it much. because frankly, you didn’t care, you liked being friends with eddie.

maybe more than friends, you spent a lot of time with eddie and started developing feelings for him. prom was coming soon and you thought that it might be the best way to tell him how you truly feel about him.

eddie told you that he was going to play dnd with his friends at hellfire club, so after cheer practice you decided to wait for him, knowing that it would probably be ending soon. once the other kids started stepping out, you walked into the room to see eddie cleaning up

“hey” he said as he put his things away

“hey—how was it?” you asked, and he told you how the game went. even though you didn’t really care for dnd, or even knew anything about it, you still liked listening to him.

“anyway—how was practice?” he asked

“yeah yeah good—it was good, unimportant—anyway so um. well—so you know how prom is coming soon?” you nervously said

“yep” he sighed, “want me to ask jason if he’s gonna ask you or something? doubt he’ll even want to talk but i’ll give it a shot even though he hates me” he chuckled and you just furrowed your eyebrows

“oh—“ you said at the realization of what he meant, “no—i don’t want him to ask anyway…cause i wanted to ask someone else”

“really?” he raised an eyebrow, intrigued to know who it could be

“yeah…” you said, contemplating if you should say it or not. you hesitated to ask, you weren’t gonna in the first place. until dustin and mike kept pestering you, telling you they were gonna expose you if you don’t ask.

“well? who is it?” he asked

“eddie it’s you” you quickly said, “i know we’re good friends and—i just…i really like you. and i was wondering if you…want to go with me?” you said, looking him right in the eye

eddie’s expression quickly morphed into a disappointment, “wow” he said and your confidence went away, worried thoughts consuming you, “where are they?”

“where are…what? who?” you said in a low voice, the embarrassment already coming for you

“your friends” he said, “what—are they waiting outside? waiting for you to say you had me fooled or something? i knew it”

“wh…what?”

“i knew it. how could a cheerleader, a golden girl come hang out with a freak, yeah? you really did have me fooled for a while, thinking you weren’t like the others—that you really did want to be my friend. but let me guess, jason bribed you to come do this shit? well you can tell him i didn’t fall for his trick. he couldn’t get me this time.” he sternly said and turned away

“eddie—what? it’s—“

“just go” he said in a low voice

“wh—“

“just go!” he yelled

tears blurred your vision as you walked out, mike and dustin were nearby, since they had planned to come ask you how it went

“so? how’d it…” dustin trailed off as they both saw your tears

“what happened?” mike asked

“i asked him. hope you’re happy now. i shouldn’t have done this” you said as walked away from them, the two looked at each other and went to the room to see eddie still there, his expression sadder now

“so uh…” mike said, turning away from dustin

“we saw y/n come here…what was that all about?” dustin asked

“oh yeah—did you see her friends too? get this, she tries to be friends with me and then proceeds to ask me out to prom. i don’t know if she thinks i’m stupid or something, can’t believe i almost fell for it”

“fell for what?” mike asked, frustration clear in his tone

“that it was a trick—some prank she tried to pull with jason and his other annoying friends” he said and dustin just shook his head

“oh my god” mike sighed

“you idiot!” dustin yelled

“what?” eddie furrowed his eyebrows

“there was no trick! there wasn’t anybody even outside, other than me and mike who were waiting for her to come tell us what happened after she told us she was gonna ask you out to prom!”

“no” eddie shook his head

“and now when we saw her she was full on sobbing because of you, dumbass” mike said and eddie paused

“what the hell are you doing—go to her!” dustin yelled and pushed eddie outside, “swear i have to do everything” he muttered as he watched eddie run to his van

you were laying on your bed, sniffling as you listened to music, you looked at your window to see a rock being thrown at it, you turned off the song and opened the window, looking out to see eddie there

“hey” he said and you just glared at him, rolling your eyes and walking away, “i’m freezing! come on” he whisper yelled

you walked back to the window, “good” you said

“im gonna perish!” he whisper yelled again

“then perish, asshole.” you said and he just kept on pleading for you to come down, you finally gave in and let him in through the window

“hi” he smiled and you just kept glaring, “okay—here it goes—i know i was a piece of shit to you but—i mean come on! you’re a cheerleader and im the town freak…it sounded too good to be true. guess i just didn’t wanna get hurt—im sorry. will you…” he trailed off as he got down on one knee and pulled out a flower from god knows where, “go to prom with me?”

“you’re so corny it’s disgusting” you crossed your arms and he just kept awkwardly smiling at you, “get up” you said with a little giggle, he got up and kept reaching his hand you so you can take the flower, you sighed and took it, he smiled and wrapped his arms around your waist, you gently grabbed his face and shared a kiss

“did you take relationship advice from two 14 year olds?” he asked

“shut up! don’t act like they didn’t tell you to come do this” you two chuckled

a/n: the ending sucked i’m kms 😁😁

#stranger things 4 #eddie munson #stranger things x reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x plus size reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie my love <3 #eddie munson x oc #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x reader fluff #eddie stranger things

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nghtwngs · 3 years ago

Note

If you take request can I ask for angst between Peter and reader maybe a misunderstanding or miscommunication but it ends with fluff because they’re madly in love and can’t stay away from eo 🥺

you more than anything

description: you don’t know why you expect anything different from peter. he’s just not reliable.

pairing: peter parker x reader

word count: 2.2k

warnings: drinking, swearing, you joke about stabbing peter

thinking about how much of a bad liar peter is rn and thanks for requesting!! it's kind of rushed so im sorry and this doesn't have to be andrew but i always have him in mind while writing for peter

“Happy birthday!” Your friend grins, clutching a drink in her hand. She almost trips over her feet as she shuffles towards you, and your hands have to grasp her arms to make sure she doesn’t fall.

“Thanks,” you say. “You’ve had too much to drink.”

Your hand reaches out towards the glass. She moves the drink away from you, dodging your attempt to take it from her.

“I’m fine,” she reassures you. You don’t believe her. Her eyes scan over the other people in your little apartment. “Where’s Peter?”

Your lips purse. “He has work.”

“He works all the time. Why does the Daily Bugle need him at seven p.m.?”

“I don’t know. I don’t really ask. And he’ll probably be back soon. He’s supposed to bring the cake.”

She raises her eyebrows. “Really?”

“What?”

“You trust Peter Parker to bring you your birthday cake on time?”

“I know he’s not the most punctual, but it’s not like he’s going to be four hours late.”

She sips her drink, humming lightly. Disbelief.

Okay, so maybe Peter is going to be three hours late. You’re starting to get a little worried now. You pull your phone out of your pocket, opening up your messages. Nothing. You decide to text him to make sure he’s not bleeding out on the sidewalk somewhere in Queens.

Today 9:27 PM

you: dude where r u?

peter i’d really like my birthday cake pls

He doesn’t reply. You shouldn’t be too worried, right? You put on a smile for your friends as you open up their gifts. Your leg bounces under the table. Relief washes over you when you feel your phone vibrate in your pocket. You’re quickly grabbing it, clicking on the notification.

Today 9:49 PM

pete: On my way!

That looks strange. What is he doing that he needs to use the quick reply feature? You didn’t think anyone actually used it. It just looks oddly cheerful. About a minute later, another text pops up on your screen.

Love you

you: love u too

Ten minutes later, and you think the sound of the door unlocking might be the best part of your night. Peter hurries inside, cake in hand. “Sorry, you wouldn’t believe how long it took for them to write your name correctly.”

You frown. “Everyone’s been waiting.”

“I know, I know. I’m sorry. I had work, and then I got to the place, and they only had one cake left—and this old lady wanted it too, so I had to beg her for it. Got down on my hands and knees and everything.” He inhales, giving you a tight-lipped smile. “Happy birthday.”

“At least you’re here before everyone left,” you grumble, taking the cake from him. “Don’t come near me while I’m cutting the cake. I might try to stab you.”

“Ouch. You know I’m really sorry, right?”

You sigh, heading into the kitchen. “I know.”

“I love you!” Peter shouts from behind you before he adds, “Just saying it from a safe distance!”

The corners of your lips quirk up for a moment. He makes it terribly difficult to be upset at him.

Your friend walks into the kitchen, opening your fridge. “Aren’t you mad at him?”

You eye her as she grabs another drink.

“What?” she asks when she notices you looking at her with raised eyebrows.

You stare down at the cake again. All the candles are in place now, but you can’t remember for the life of you where the lighter is. You rummage through the drawers. “No.”

“Seriously? He’s three hours late to your birthday party.”

“He’s always late.” You exhale. “I’m not mad. A bit disappointed? Maybe? I think I always expect things to be different when I shouldn’t. But I’m used to it, so it doesn’t really matter. I’m just being stupid.”

She sets down her drink on the counter. “No, you aren’t. You deserve so much better.”

“Peter’s just busy. I can handle busy.”

“It doesn’t matter if you can. Do you want to?”

Your eyes meet, and you tell her with your entire heart, “For him? I’d do anything.”

She sighs. “Talk to him about it at least.”

You finally find the lighter in one of the drawers. “Yeah.”

The apartment is soon filled with singing (at varying levels of talent). Your eyes squeeze shut before you blow out the candles. Your friends cheer loudly. It makes you smile.

You cut everyone a slice of cake. Peter is the last one to get a piece other than you. You call his name, and he cautiously walks toward you. You give him a look.

Peter looks at you sheepishly, a small smile on his face. “Just trying not to get stabbed.”

“I don’t think you have much of a choice,” you say, passing him a slice of cake.

He looks down at it. It’s the one with your name written on it. You look away, chewing your cheek and cutting yourself a piece. Your eyes find him like always. He’s smiling.

The party ends with a series of goodbyes from your friends. Harry is, unsurprisingly, the last to leave. For someone with one of the nicest places in New York, he sure does spend an awful lot of time at your apartment. He grins widely at you, wishing you another happy birthday before saying goodbye to Peter. You don’t notice the look that Harry gives him.

You close the door, locking it with a sigh. “I don’t want to clean.”

“I can clean,” Peter says, already moving chairs back to where they were supposed to be. “Go to bed first. It’s your birthday.”

Without you? You watch him from the door, lip tucked between your teeth. You remember the conversation you had earlier. Should you say something? The thought of confrontation, especially with him, makes your stomach curl.

You purse your lips. “Okay.”

You hear Peter mumble another ‘happy birthday’ as you pass him.

You glance at the clock. It tells you that it’s been over an hour since you’ve slipped under the covers of your bed. You pull them more tightly around you. It’s so much colder without him. It shouldn’t be taking him this long to clean, should it?

You sigh, getting out of bed. You think you hear the door creak open. Did Peter go out? You watch him come inside the apartment. His eyes widen once he sees you. Like he didn’t expect you to be awake at this hour, but doesn’t he know that you can’t go to sleep without him anymore?

You hear your name off his lips.

“Where’d you go?” you ask, frowning. “It’s late.”

“Uh,” he begins, “just needed to clear my head.”

You take in his appearance. “Why are you so dirty?”

He stammers. “I rolled around in—in some dirt.”

Your eyebrows knit. “Rolled?”

“Fell.” He nods almost frantically. “I mean fell. Yeah.”

“Peter, I’m not stupid.”

He frowns, padding towards you. “I know you aren’t.”

“You can tell me anything, you know that right?”

“I know. It’s just this—I, I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“I just can’t.”

Those words manage to make your heart clench in all the wrong ways. Do you press further or wait until he’s ready? Will he ever be ready? You wrap your arms around yourself, suddenly feeling especially cold.

“I’m going to bed.”

“I’m really sorry.” His voice sounds like glass, so fragile and vulnerable. “Sorry for being late all the time. Sorry for not telling you things. I promise there’s a good reason.”

You want to reach out. You want to comfort him and tell him everything is okay. You want to let him sob into your chest until his tears run dry, but your body never moves.

“I know. I trust you.” You pause at the bedroom door. “I’m just… disappointed? I always think that things might change this time. Again and again, but nobody changes. It’s like I set myself up to be disappointed by expecting things of people. I know you have all these responsibilities, and I know you’re trying your best, but I thought you might be different. And maybe that’s selfish of me.”

He doesn’t reply.

You fall into bed feeling numb. The faint sound of the water running fills the apartment. He doesn’t join you in bed, much to your disappointment, so you lay with the covers around you and wide awake. They’ll never deliver the same warmth that he does.

Guilt pools in your stomach after a while. Should you be feeling guilty for telling him how you feel? Are you really being selfish? Peter isn’t obligated to tell you what’s going on with him, but a part of you still wishes that he’d tell you everything. All you want is to relieve his soul of the pressure it’s under. But maybe it’s worse that you understand so well. You could never be upset with him when you know how hard this is for him. And he’d never do anything to hurt you because it’d hurt him just as much if not more.

The door creaks open, and you think you might cry tears of joy at the sound.

“I know you’re awake too,” Peter whispers.

Your eyes flutter open.

He stands at his side of the bed. “Can I?”

You find yourself nodding eagerly at the question.

He slips under the covers, immediately pulling you into his arms, sharing his warmth with you. His hand cups your face, thumbing your cheek as he gazes at you. The little light that the streetlamp outside offers illuminates his face just enough that you can make out his red eyes. You press him closer to your body.

The room is silent for the next few minutes. He looks so troubled, so worried, and all you want to do is take the weight off his chest. You want to unburden him of the world, to hold it under your own hands so that it doesn’t hurt him anymore. You just need to see him smile, need him to know that everything will be okay.

“I’m Spider-Man,” he finally whispers.

You offer him a soft smile. “I know.”

His eyebrows knit together. “You know?”

“Yeah, you are terrible at lying. And May told me some things that kind of tipped me off. ‘Washing the American flag?’ Really? You’re an idiot. There’s no way she doesn’t know either.”

He pouts like a child who’s dropped his ice cream cone on the sidewalk.

“And the ‘rolling in dirt’ thing? You didn’t really expect me to believe that, right?”

Peter grimaces. “You never said anything.”

“I wanted you to tell me when you were ready to.”

His lips suddenly crash onto yours, and you can feel every bit of love he pours into it. It’s like it’s worth every ‘I love you’ he’s ever said to you and so much more.

“I love you.” He breathed. “I love you so much.”

Your fingers card through his hair, brown and messy and pretty. And he’s all yours. “I love you so much too.”

“And you’re the least selfish person I know. You deserve to expect things of other people like me not being late to everything. Which I’m still really sorry about. If anything, I’m the selfish one for trying to balance being Spider-Man and Peter Parker for you.”

“Peter, you’re literally saving New York like everyday. I think that makes you the most selfless person in this city. The police don’t do shit compared to you. That’s nothing to be sorry about.”

“You just deserve so much better than what I can give you.”

“You really don’t know how happy I am when I’m with you. That’s all that matters to me.”

He frowns. “I disappointed you on your birthday.”

“You can always make it up to me.” You smile, pressing your lips against his softly. “Maybe... take me swinging?”

“That I can do.”

Everyone says that kissing isn’t anything special. That it isn’t even half as great as the books describe it. But kissing Peter is like watching the sun rise and set at the same time. It’s like watching a star explode, but you get it often and for free. The lack of oxygen should concern you. It doesn’t. Your tongue slips into his mouth. The faint coolness of toothpaste hits you. You want more.

His hand holds the back of your neck, keeping you closer and closer until you feel the heat of his skin pressing against you. You know you’ll never be cold again. You pull away, attempting to catch your breath. The whine that’s pulled from his mouth makes your head spin.

You wish there was more than just the streetlamp to light the room because the dim yellow just doesn’t do Peter justice. You want to see all of him, every freckle and dip in his skin. But you can’t complain all that much. He still looks gorgeous. He smiles at you so softly that it makes your soul yearn to melt into his so that you may never be apart again.

“I love you, and you love me. We can make this work,” you reassure him. “But maybe text me if you’re going to be late though. I don’t want to get ready for nothing, or actually expect you to be on time for once.”

Peter hums softly in response. And then his lips are colliding with yours in a way that makes the moon miss the sun.

#peter parker x reader #peter parker imagine #peter parker angst #peter parker fluff #tasm peter parker x reader #tasm peter parker imagine #tasm peter parker angst #tasm peter parker fluff #andrew peter parker x reader #andrew peter parker imagine #spiderman x reader #spiderman imagine #spiderman fluff #spiderman angst #tasm x reader #tasm imagine

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