#he never actually handled it back then - he just shoved it under the need to look after Amara because she was hurt - and now it's biting hi

[seresinhangmanjake]

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x reader on her period

Summary: Feyd doesn’t like anyone keeping him from his wife’s side, especially when she’s in pain. 

*Based on an anon ask. Whoever that was, I hope this makes it to you :)*

Notes/Warnings: the subject is reader’s period; period pain; naive Feyd; threatening and aggressive Feyd; soft Feyd; Feyd hates everyone but his wife; allusion to period sex but no actual smut, mention of pregnancy. 

Words: 1150

Feyd-Rautha Masterlist

“Get out of my way!” he snaps from the other side of the bedroom door, and you swell with guilt as you imagine your handmaid shivering like an unprotected baby critter. Which, in Giedi Prime, is exactly what she is. 

She’s your critter that, at your request three weeks ago, Feyd agreed to have accompany you from your home planet following the wedding. You wanted something familiar and comfortable within reach and told him her presence would support you in adapting to your new life as his wife.

At the time, you took his compliance as a promising sign. He didn’t particularly care for the people of Caladan, but he cared for you enough to set aside his distaste for an additional outsider in his palace. But that distaste never fails to return tenfold whenever the Caladanian traditions and practices that your handmaid refuses to let go of get in Feyd’s way. 

“Move!” you hear in that menacing tone. 

You want to rush to her defense before things get out of hand, but you can’t so much as shift on the bed without your body aching. 

“M-My Lord,” Nadya stutters. “It’s not proper to see my Lady in her condition.”

A groan rips from your throat from more than just the pain in your abdomen. You’ve tried to explain to her that the Harkonnens do not abide by the same parameters of modesty that your people do, but she’s not nearly as open-minded when it comes to accepting a different lifestyle. However, she needs to shut her mouth and let him pass. There are much worse things than your husband witnessing you in the throes of monthly bleeding. 

Feyd practically growls, and then you hear the scrape of a metal knife unsheathing and a light feminine gasp. 

“I have not killed you solely because she requested it of me,” he says. “But if you refuse to let me see my wife, then I have no reason to continue my generosity and you will be offered to my harpies for their nighttime meal.”

Fuck. You know he’ll do it. Your husband is an ‘ask for forgiveness, not permission’ kind of man, and the fact that his harpies have been eyeing your handmaid for a while only encourages his mind’s reasoning. 

Reaching toward your nightstand, your fingers wrap around the handle of the little service bell you were given and give it a shake. A moment later, the door opens a crack. 

“My Lady,” your handmaid says in response to your call. She attempts to slip her body through a narrow opening between the door and its frame to prevent your husband’s entry, but Feyd shoves her aside at the first opportunity and rushes inside the room. 

His brow furrows at the sight of your body curled into a ball. “My love…” he mutters, racing to your side and kneeling by the bed. He takes your hand and weaves your fingers together, his worried gaze raking over your form. “What happened? What is this?”

“My Lady, I tried to stop–”

“Quiet!” Feyd snaps, shooting your handmaid a glare. “I’ll still gut you!”

Your fingers squeeze his to draw his attention back to you. “Go, Nadya. It’s ok,” you tell her. “My husband can take care of me.”

Feyd lips curl upward slightly, but his anxiety over your current state blocks a full-fledged smile from forming. His other hand raises to cup your cheek and you hum under his soft touch. 

In the corner of your eye, you can see Nadya hesitate. The frown on her face is prominent enough to be detected without your gaze directly upon her. But her agitation must cease. She has to learn and conform if she values her life. There is only so much you can do to protect her, and if Feyd reaches the breaking point of his willingness to allow opposition within his own marriage—especially due to someone who is neither you nor him—it’s unlikely you’ll be able to sneak her onto a ship and transport her back to Caladan before she is executed. 

You’ll have another discussion with her—the fourth, you think—once your body decides to end its self-punishment; assuming she survives that long. For the moment, at least, she has accepted your instruction and left you alone with your husband. 

“You’re hurting,” Feyd says once Nadya is gone. “How do I stop it?”

“It’ll stop in a couple of days.”

“Days?” he echoes, offended at the information. “I want it to stop now!” 

You sigh, placing your hand atop the one holding your cheek. “That would be nice, but that's not how it works,” you tell him. A pang of pain stabs your stomach and you moan.  

“How what works?” he rushes out.

“My monthly–” 

You pause at the curious expression on his face, and you realize he has no idea what you're talking about. You thought it was obvious what was wrong with you. You thought he understood. But then you remember he has lived a life with no mother, no sisters, no female relatives. There was no one to explain to him the unfair complexities of being a woman. And the Baron certainly wouldn’t have bothered. The way that man-beast mentally operates teaches that women are good for producing heirs, and in that respect, all Feyd would have needed to learn is how to stick his hard cock between a woman’s legs. To your appreciation, he does that quite well, but still, it’s surprising as much as unsurprising that your husband is so naive. 

Before you can expand your answer, Feyd says, “I’m not letting this happen ever again.”

You chuckle. “It’s monthly, my love, and I’m afraid it only doesn’t happen if I’m pregnant.” 

“Then I’ll make you pregnant,” he responds with an air of great determination. “And I’ll keep you that way.”

You’re instantly obsessed with the thought; perhaps too much considering you’ve known the man for two months and have been married to him for significantly less, but you do love him. And being filled with his baby creates an image that swirls a fire in your belly to combat some of the deep ache. 

You grin but it lasts only a second before your teeth are forced to clench, eyelids pinching shut at another wave of agony.

“I hate this,” Feyd says, brushing your hair back from your face.

Once you ride out the wave, your eyes open to meet his. “You know,” you start, your breath heavy. “I’ve heard rumors from other women back home about something that helps with the pain.” Feyd’s features eagerly come to life. “It’s a bit messy, though.”

“Whatever it is, my love, I’ll do it.”

“Ok,” you say, a lazy smile curving your lips. “Take off your clothes.”

Feyd’s eyes widen at the request. And then he smirks.

[charliemwrites]

Unhinged obsessive Johnny Thoughts™️? Unhinged obsessive Johnny Thoughts™️.

Johnny didn’t mean to. He swears he didn’t mean to, please understand.

You’re his favorite server at his favorite bar. He finds every excuse he can to drag one or all of his team there. Yes he likes their company, of course. Likes spending time with them, laughing and joking and building bonds outside of life or death situations. But you are the highlight of those nights.

You smile so sweetly, a little cheeky twist whenever he gets all of the 141 there together. You know all their names - or their callsigns at least. Call Price “captain” with a giggle whenever he groans at you to stop calling him that.

Johnny adores you. Sometimes when he’s alone at the table - the others off smoking or playing pool - you’ll stop by. You don’t have to, but you do, chatting until one of the other servers teases to stop flirting and help bus.

You always blush when they shout that, but never deny it. Leave him with one last warm smile and a promise to top up his drink for listening to you ramble. As if he couldn’t live with your voice in his ears all the time.

You tell him about your masters program. Complain about shitty customers. Admit you broke up with your last boyfriend for calling your hobbies a “silly waste of time.” The movies you’ve seen or watch for nostalgia. He knows when your playlist is on at the bar because you spend your entire shift bouncing and mouthing along whenever you’re not handling a customer.

It’s a slow infection. A creeping, insidious thing that seeps into his blood and corrupts him from the inside out. This awful, twisting devotion for you.

He knows to be careful, loathe to be one of those men you avoid like the plague, trading with other servers to handle. He doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable. He’s happy with the flirting and the little kindnesses, happy that you always light up when you see him. That you breathe a quiet “thank you” and squeeze his arm the one time he steps in one a handshake customer on your behalf.

It’s enough. He reminds himself that it’s enough. He doesn’t deserve more than you’re willing to give. He can’t give you the life you deserve yet.

But then one day things go wrong. So, so wrong.

There’s been a rowdy group of men that have been harassing the younger servers all night. You stepped in, older and more experienced, practiced at not giving them the reactions they want. It’s another of the things Johnny loves about you. You don’t need a mask like Ghost to hide your face.

One them especially tries antagonize you, even manages to earn a sharp word when he says something crass. Johnny tenses when the guy (buddies following suit) starts getting loud, aggressive. Towering over you when he knocks over his barstool, trying to intimidate.

Johnny shoves the guy away from you before it can get much farther. Relief washes over you as the owner, a big burly man, finally makes an appearance and kicks the lot of them out.

“A whiskey on the house for Soap,” you ask the bartender, hand pressed to your chest. “My knight in a cotton sweater.”

He smiles for your sake, mind buzzing to see you so shaken up.

“Alright, lass?”

“Yeah, just spooked me is all,” you sigh, a hand to your cheek now. “Think I’m gonna step out for some air. Thank you again, John.”

He lets you go, even though every molecule in his body urges him to bundle you up under his arm, safe and sound. Take you somewhere quiet to smooth your feathers.

Something doesn’t feel right.

He manages to wait exactly one minute and seventeen seconds before he tells a blasted Gaz that he’s going to the bathroom. When he steps out the back door, you’re being cornered by the man, two of his friends hanging back telling him to “leave it alone” but not actually doing a fucking thing to stop him.

So Johnny does. Honestly, he blacks out for a second. The next thing he knows, he’s cradling you in his arms, his knuckles stinging and bloody. The men are nowhere to be found but there’s a pool of blood in the alleyway. You’re unconscious, fainted sometime in the scuffle - or maybe hit your head.

Johnny isn’t himself. He’s not thinking. He’s used to keeping his cool with guns pressed to his head, but this is different. This is you.

He doesn’t mean to. He really doesn’t but it’s the best he can come up with when he just got a firsthand look at how dangerous the world is for you when he’s not around.

Please understand. He has to keep you safe.

[squiddy-god]

hsr men manhandling pt2

(Blade, sampo, loucha)

Once again here we are, lust in my heart. The other one is quite popular so here we go with a part two<3 i really liked the way the last one turned out so i decided to do more characters, i think the next one i'm doing is gonna be female characters. Maybe a little sampo slander (i love him i promise) 

♥︎REQUESTS ARE OPEN♥︎

Cw: smut, suggestive content to nsfw, manhandling, top! Characters, dom characters, no pronouns, gn! Reader, fem/ftm/masc/mtf friendly, established relationship, implied chubby reader, rough sex, penetration, oral (you and character receiving), fuzzy handcuffs (sampo), marking (blade), stupid/silly petnames (sampo), dare i say…a bit of switch sampo??face fucking,  as always everything is consensual (very sexy) and aftercare is always given even if not explicitly mentioned 

Blade 

AUGH 

Bladie is legitimately strong as hell, but the thing is that whether he's doing it on purpose or accident depends on the situation 

Blade manhandles you a lot, he tends to be a man of few words so if he needs you moved he is moving you, if he wants affection he is moving you

Sitting next to him and he wants you sat in his lap where you should be? Hes grabbing you, hands gripping your waist as he pulls you against him

Speaking of that his kisses are quite similar, grabbing your jaw and turning your face so he can kiss you

Or a hand on the back of your head that pushes your face together, 

Blade likes having you lay on top of him and he will actually drag you on top of him 

These are things he does unintentionally that end with you getting man handled 

But let's not forget that dear bladie is a bit (read: very) feral

He is the king of manhandling, im talking he throws you on the bed type manhandling

Picking you up and pinning you to the wall while holding the backs of your knees to keep you good and folded in half.

His lower body pressed against you so you can feel how hard he his while he grinds into you 

And he KNOWS HE KNOWS what he's doing when he squishes handfuls of your soft fletch in his hands while he folds you however he likes, he knows how much it turns you on 

He's rough, rough hands and rough chipped edges that used to be smooth. Blade as a whole is a rough man and his bedroom habits are no different- his every touch and movement carries a strength and sort of force behind it 

There's a part of him that revels in the fact that his roughness turns you on, the little shudder that runs through your body when you feel his finger dig into your hips and waist 

I feel like marking plays a huge role in the manhandling actually because blade wants to see you so covered in his marks that they resemble the scars on his body 

He is covered in them, not an inch spared- and so neither will yours

Pinning you face down with his hips rutting against yours while he sucks hickeys and bites between your shoulder blades (im hilarious) and neck. 

Sampo

Him 

He is fully aware and it's on purpose 2000% 

He teases you about it relentlessly the second that he finds out, honestly he probably found out either by accident or because he was teasing you 

He runs up to you, picking you up while he kisses your stomach face buried it its softness- and when he looks up seeing how flustered you are hes already working overtime 

“Ohhhh ho ho! Now sweetcheeks don't tell me you like when ol’ sampo’s rough with ya” 

He's so mean! He bullies you honestly and he doesn't even feel bad! 

SHOVES HIS COLD HANDS UNDER YOUR SHIRT AND JUST HOLDS YOU THERE SO YOU CAN'T ESCAPE! The meanie! And it never lasts being cute either because it turns into him grabbing your tummy and waist, then hes going for your chest and oops his hands are in your pants and he's using you to the nearest secluded spot 

a lot of his manhandling comes from squishing and squeezing you 

He's a tummy and thigh man and i won't be taking criticism because im right- aha told me themselves 

He loves and adores your tummy and thighs, squeezing, groping, he really can't get enough and that leads to him manhandling you

Like i said lust in my heart- so im gonna need you to hear me out on this one guys i need, and i mean NEED sampo in one of those sexy cop costumes 

See it's funny because he is a criminal- 

But like he's pinning you down, the sound of clicking as he cuffs you with the fuzzy handcuffs before he is jerking your his back to slot oh so perfectly against his 

I feel like sampo kinda likes when you man handle him a bit too (i wanna grab his bewbs) and he wouldn't mind if YOU were the one in the sexy cop costume, the short shorts showing off the thighs he loves so much as he lets you pin and cuff him~ 

Sampo likes face fucking and its one of the ways he manhandles you. moving your head up and down on his length while he has the nerve to coo at you 

You can feel his hands cradle your head and you already know what's coming (him lmao) “come on love-bug wanna give poor sampo a treat?” and its the way he sounds almost desperate that has you always nodding your head as you feel his fingers tighten before he's pushing you all the way down 

I hate him <3 (i'm a big liar)

Loucha 

Now here me out this man is a gentleman

Wouldn't dream of manhandling you because he is oh so gentle, so sweet to you its almost- almost suspicious

That being said when he does it's on purpose

For all his gentlemanly acts there is something writhing just below the surface, the most miniscule glint in his eyes and the slight amount of extra pressure in his hand as he guides you with him through the streets 

But he is a man with seemingly infinite self control 

But thats only what it seems like

Even one with an abundance (haha) of patience can sometimes have said patience grow thin, its times like this that loucha takes it upon himself to remind you that things are often not as they appear

 Fear not however, most of his “frustration” comes when you try to squirm away or hide- loucha loves to see and hear you, watch your face twitch and your body write at the onslaught (abundance hahahaha) of pleasure that his hands bestow 

He keeps your hands pinned nicely above your head to make sure there is no hiding your lovely face from him, and it shows his slight sadistic streak because the way he looks down at you?

Those lovely olive green eyes looking down at you laced with something akin to condescension- as if you were so silly to attempt to hide away from his gaze,  

I think loucha is a big fan of you riding him, his hands able to grip fistfull of your plush hips and thighs when your legs start to burn and he can manhandle you up and down his length to his heart's content  

And he just coos up at you, voice rumbling as he holds you tight again him and all but slams his hips forward, the languid movement of his hips has stopped and been replaced with the deep bruising movements that have you clawing at his back and the sheets 

“Ah ah my sweet, my mercy has a limit when you have denied me the pleasure of seeing you like this” and you realize through the way his hands roughly grasp at every soft inch of you that it was indeed mercy, but the way he all but moans out his desire to simply see you writhe like this beneath him makes it all the sweeter to test the limits of said mercy 

[corvidaerook]

okay I'm back in the building because I just got through Weisshaupt on this playthrough and fucking hell I'm losing my mind. The amount of things that hit so much harder because of the extra context of "he just lost his sister"?? I need a place to dump all my thoughts, so lore/random stuff/Rook thoughts info-dump alert:

1) from a Rookanis perspective; Cassian's current goal in life is to kill Ghilan'nain. He wants to stop both the Gods (and Solas) ofc, but Ghilan'nain is personal. It was her dragon who attacked Treviso, killing his sister, Amara, and taking away the last piece of his immediate family that he had left. He wants her dead yesterday.

And Lucanis is the one person he's really been relying on since he learned Amara was killed. He just lost Caterina, he's a Crow too so he understands the pain of what happened in Treviso, he's similarly minded in that Cassian also wants to focus on work and revenge over letting himself feel things. Like in general, even outside of any potential romance between them, Cassian just feels so much safer and more comfortable with Lucanis over anyone else. The only one who comes close is Davrin because Davrin's idea of comforting him is going "hey, wanna go on a walk about it?" instead of trying to be sympathetic or making him feel emotions he's trying not to feel.

Then they go to Weisshaupt. Lucanis tries to kill Ghilan'nain and Davrin almost dies to the Archdemon and there's a little girl running around who might've lost her father that he can't protect properly. In general, Cassian is having a fucking horrible day. And Lucanis misses the shot.

From Lucanis' perspective, it must be horrible. He's watched Cassian spiral since losing his sister, pushing everyone away, suddenly angry at the world and everything in it, refusing to even really think about his grief except for 1 moment where he lost it a little with Teia, and then watched him start acting normal again except everyone can see that Cassian's putting on a facade of being fine and he's actually incredibly not fine at all. Lucanis thinks to himself okay, I can't fix his feelings or bring back his sister, but I know killing. If I can bring down Ghilan'nain, it will be revenge for Treviso, Minrathous, and Cassian. And then he misses, and Cassian tells him to retreat, not even giving him a second chance, and they're running, and they get back to the Lighthouse and don't even get the chance to talk before they're sitting with the team and Davrin's blaming him and he's blaming Davrin and Cassian yells at all of them, and then Lucanis goes back to his pantry to brood think about everything, and Cassian comes to find him, and the one of the first things Cassian says is, "Forget about Ghilan'nain."

The Goddess who killed his sister, and he says to forget about her because, "I'm just happy you didn't get killed out there." Cassian would rather lose out on his chance for revenge than lose Lucanis, one of the only people he still has that he cares about.

2) Also, just from a general Cassian perspective, there are a few different things that just feel so important to me.

Cassian's voice when he says Davrin's name before the Archdemon sacrifice. Through the entire siege, Cassian was trying so hard not to think about the fact that he was leading Davrin straight to his death, and then all of a sudden it was there, and horrifyingly real, and Cassian was going to lose another person he cared about to Ghilan'nain and her fucking monsters. I use the male American voice for Cassian and he just sounds so tired and scared, and it was so fitting. And the fact that someone pointed out that Davrin's eyes look wet when he says to give Assan a hug? That man was crying??

How much more worried Cassian seemed when he realized Lucanis was missing in the pre-Eluvian room glance at the pantry.

The extra tension between Cassian and Neve/anything Minrathous-related because he knows it's not her fault and that she has every right to be mad or distant but he can't stop wondering if, maybe if he hadn't gone straight to Minrathous to try to help, would he have gone to check on his sister instead? Would he have found her in time? Could he have done something different? He couldn't do anything in Minrathous anyway, why didn't he stay and check on her? He chased away the dragon in Treviso, so why does it feel like he lost so completely?

The tension between Cassian and Emmrich because Emmrich, trying to be nice, offered to help him figure out the arrangements for his sister's funeral and accidentally hit a nerve when he asked if she'd be cremated because the cold is a huge trigger for Cassian because when he was younger, his parents and brother were killed, and he was left with his sister laying in the snow, not sure if she was alive or not, and Emmrich wants to ask him if he's going to put her in the ground, cold and alone?

The tension between Cassian and Bellara because she's one of his best friends but she sometimes talks before she thinks and she's brought up his sister to try to help him one time too many and he feels like he's going to cry if she tries one more time, and he can't do that because he won't be able to pull himself back together.

The tension between Cassian and Harding because she knows him better than anyone on the team because they've known each other for the longest and he's terrified of her seeing straight through his jokes and quips and realizing how not-okay he is.

This fucking face when the conversation starts drifting into "blaming Lucanis for losing to Ghilan'nain at Weisshaupt" territory:

Choosing the angrier, strong-arm or armored dialogue choices and hearing him get so much more upset than he ever did in his canon run and feeling the genuine change between the two timelines. He's so mad in this one with everyone and everything, and he's completely run out of patience with pretty much anything that isn't Lucanis, Teia, and most of the time, Davrin.

Getting the "Letter with a Grey Warden Seal" post-Weisshaupt about how the Wardens are doing, and having Evka say, "they're a good person trying to deal with a lot of change - and it hasn't stopped them from helping" about Flynn, knowing full well that Cassian is a good person going through a lot of change and that the entire point is that it has stopped him from helping the people he cares about.

Having Cassian actually have more (reluctant) patience and sympathy for Solas because he has a very abrupt, very personal stake in stopping Ghilan'nain that he never had in the canon run. "The enemy of my enemy is my friend" is making him feel a lot more trusting towards Solas, and it's going to come back to bite him when he gets castled. He's going to be so much more angry later.

This line and the fact that all I could think about is that Cassian might be 28 years old, but losing his sister made him feel like a child again, and he feels so completely alone because of it.

Knowing that, at Tearstone, Cassian will take Elgar'nan's sister from him the same way that Ghilan'nain took his.

I made an entire au about my Rook getting the bad endings so I could see his reactions, where he loses his sister in the Treviso Dragon Attack to explain why he focuses on the main quests without helping any of his friends or allies, and in the time between stopping the dragon and when I think he learns about his sister, I chose this dialogue😭 Cassian you don't even know...you don't even know...

[asidian]

I've seen a lot of really excellent analysis on Charles' reaction to Edwin's confession, but there's a huge aspect that I haven't seen talked about at all yet. And that is, namely:

Charles Rowland is a people-pleaser.

Doesn't seem like there's a connection there, does it? Have a seat, my friends. Let me break this down.

The show lays the groundwork for this aspect of Charles' personality early. It's one of the very first things we learn about him, in fact. He's kind and agreeable and helpful, and he's always, always smiling. When Crystal insults him, he laughs it off. When Crystal and Edwin fight, he scrambles to diffuse the situation. He calls himself "a good sort of a chap," and it's important to him that he is.

In episode 3, we find out why. At home, love was always conditional for him. He spent his entire life trying to please his father, and he confesses to Crystal that no matter how nice he was, or how good at sports, it was never enough. That's how Charles sees the world. If he can make people happy, he might actually be good enough for them to love him.

Not only didn't he earn his father's affection, he didn't even manage, in his own eyes, to clear the low bar of being good enough to earn the privilege of not being hurt. And his mother, he says, was "quiet." From the flashback we see, she never stepped in for him or defended him. However hard he was trying, it wasn't enough to get her to intervene on his behalf.

So who else does he have? His "friends"? The ones who literally murder him when he steps in to stop them from doing a terrible thing? The act he put on wasn't enough to win them over in the end, either. However friendly he was, however personable, they turned on him and left him for dead.

Then he meets Edwin.

And when he meets Edwin, he's at his absolute lowest. He's not smiling and putting on a show, for once. He's in a corner of an attic cowering while he slowly freezes to death. But here comes Edwin, offering him kindness, and company, and comfort.

All these things that Charles has spent his whole life chasing, trying to be good enough to earn? Edwin just gives them to him.

Of course he stays with this boy. Edwin is there when he's lost in the dark, shining a light to guide the way. Edwin has seen him unsmiling and afraid, not a shred of his usual act in place, and Edwin has offered him kindness anyway.

So they begin their time together. And what are the things Charles will pick up on almost immediately?

Edwin says right away that he's spent ages in hell. He's plainly had an awful time. He doesn't know how to handle people anymore, but Charles, he knows how to be amiable, how to smile, how to offer levity when things get grim.

So he does. He falls back into what he thinks Edwin needs, the way he always tried to be what his father wanted to see. In the very first episode, he tells Crystal, "I try to be extra happy for all of us, don't I? And I do a pretty good job."

He doesn't ever discuss his own trauma because these boys are terrible at communication, but more than that. He doesn't ever bring it up because he's busy being the support he thinks Edwin needs.

And importantly, Charles doesn't have the self-reflection skills to realize that's what he's doing. Crystal clocks him with shocking accuracy, three episodes in. "He's been hiding it from you," she tells Edwin. "Probably been hiding it from himself." She's spot-on here: when Charles doesn't want to examine his own emotions, or can't face them, he shoves them down under a smile and he carries on pretending.

But that's not the only thing Charles will have picked up on from Edwin.

It's blindingly obvious that Edwin is bad at people. He's terribly repressed. He's from a culture in which emotional honesty and physical affection were not valued or encouraged. But more than any of that, Edwin has his sexual awakening during the events of the show. Before then, he is absolutely clueless about his own wants.

So we have a situation where a consummate people-pleaser who has spent his entire life learning that he has to earn affection finds his way into a friendship with the first person who ever saw him with his mask down and gave him kindness anyway.

Of course he stays with this boy. Of course he wants to keep this.

And what's the best way Charles knows to win someone over? Well, by being what he thinks they want.

So, out come the smiles, for Edwin's sake as much as his own. But more importantly, out comes whatever Charles thinks he needs to perform, in order to keep what is the single most important relationship in his entire life and afterlife.

At this point, Edwin has shown zero romantic or sexual interest, not just in Charles, but in anyone at all. He doesn't especially seem inclined to dating, or to romance, or even to physical affection.

So Charles takes his cues from Edwin, and the cues are very firmly, for thirty years: this boy doesn't have a glimmer of interest in him, not that way.

Fast-forward to the events of the show. Fast-forward to a staircase in hell, where they are being chased by a literal demon. Suddenly his best mate, who he has spent thirty years with, who is his most important person in the world, is saying that he's in love with him.

Of course he needs a minute. Of course he has to sort that through. Any feelings he has for Edwin are things that he has spent literal decades firmly ignoring in the scramble to try and earn affection by being what he thinks Edwin needs him to be.

Because Charles is a people-pleaser at heart. And he may be dreadful at self-reflection, but he is aces at hiding things from himself.

[lordprettyflackotara]

Hey Tara, could you do some Toby fluff? Like, specifically a fempov after a nasty breakup...??? Sorry for the weird request ik you usually do smut but I love your style and need some sort of comfort after my boyfriend left me, even if it is just a fictional character... Love you ❤️

-🫀

crown || ticci toby

‘wait, you can’t please everybody’

sum: after a messy breakup you’re undeniably heartbroken and toby wants to make you feel better

tw: unintentionally a little angsty but mostly fluff

a/n: my dearest anon, i am so sorry i just now saw your request. i hope this is not too late and hopefully helps you navigate through your journey and makes you feel a little better. i went through a messy breakup around christmas as well and feel like this resonates with me as well. i’m not the best at writing fluff but i tried, i hope you enjoy and are doing well <3

“I-I found you!”

You could hear that Toby was excited, even as your back was turned to him. You had been curled up in a ball for the past hour, hiding in the attic of the mansion. Dust covered boxes were scattered around the room, your small form perched beside the oval window. You didn’t say anything, unable to match Toby’s typical perky energy. Your knees were tucked to your chest, your gaze settled on the grass outside.

Toby frowned slightly at your lack of a response, the young proxy walking around one of the boxes. “Hey, y-you good?” He asked unsurely. Toby wasn’t good at handling negative emotions, or so he thought. The moonlight gave him a good look at your face, which made his eyes go wide. Bags hung under your eyes, your lips chapped so much they were becoming cracked. Your eyes were undeniably puffy, which he suspected to be from hours of crying. He approached you quickly, squatting down in front of you. He shoved his orange goggles onto his head, licking his own dry lips.

“T-Talk to m-me, what’s wrong?”

The concern lacing Toby’s words was almost enough to send you over the edge again. You inhaled, trying to refrain from more salty tears from escaping your waterline.

“We didn’t workout.”

Your words hung heavy in the air, your ex boyfriend’s name on the tip of your tongue. It felt odd to think about, nevertheless say out loud. Toby’s brain instantly clicked, his bandaged hand reaching out to touch yours. “That’s a g-good thing though r-right? Wasn’t he an asshole towards t-the end anyways?” He asked unsurely. Your eyes were sharp as you met his puppy dog gaze, your flicker of anger immediately diminishing. Instead you took a deep breath, realizing how irrational your scattered emotions were.

In through your nose, out through your mouth.

“It’s not that simple. You don’t know, how horrid the actual breakup was. It was like, the shell of the person I used to know. The man I used to know vanished right before my eyes and got replaced with whatever the fuck he is now,” You rambled. You could feel yourself getting worked up, Toby’s eyes softening as he looked up at you. “I spent so much time, so much time with him and now it’s wasted. Gone. Like it meant nothing at all to him, but it meant everything to me,” You continued. Tears flooded your waterline with ease, painful flashes of memories appearing in your mind. You bit your bottom lip, attempting to stop the tears from flowing. “And I don’t know how i’m supposed to do this. How i’m supposed to waltz around like I know what i’m doing. He was my rock and now he’s gone. It’s like he was never here and I feel like i’m going insane,” You whimpered lowly, unable to stop the tears from free falling.

Toby was never good with dealing with heavy human emotions. Most of the time the responsibility of handling them was handled by someone else in the mansion. But you were the apple of his eye, one his favorite people to walk the planet. So instead he tuned into his instincts, hoping that what he was about to do was even semi socially appropriate. He rose to his feet, sitting across from you on the bench built into the large window. Stretching his long arms outwards he wrapped them around you, pulling you against him abruptly. You tensed for a moment, feeling Toby hold you so close. It wasn’t until your brain registered his warmth and earthy scent that you finally allowed yourself to crumble.

You felt like your lungs were going to collapse, your breath shallow as you nuzzled your face into his chest. Your chest felt tight, your sobs muffled as you cried into his signature jacket. Your soft sounds only made him hold you tighter, the brunette careful to not squeeze you too hard. Toby swallowed, bringing his slender fingers to your hair. Unsurely, he began to stroke it, hoping it would bring you some sort of ease. He continued these actions until you had no tears left to cry, your wheezing now simmering down to deep breaths. “I’m s-sorry I don’t h-have the inhaler,” Toby apologized, regretting leaving it with Tim. (It was in fact Tim’s inhaler).

His sudden outburst made you chuckle, even as a few more stray tears slid down your cheeks. You pulled back a few inches, just enough for Toby to see your face. He didn’t like seeing you like this, so hurt. Without thinking he raised his hand, fingertips grazing your cheek as he tucked some stray hairs behind your ear. “F-Fuck him, you’re the important one, y-you’re the one,” Toby said as confidently as he could muster. You knew his words meant well, even if they didn’t come out the way he meant for them to. He used the pad of his thumb to swipe away the few remaining tears, cupping your cheeks. Your eyes fluttered closed, your face relaxing in the palms of his hands.

Social constructs were a mystery to Toby, truthfully. But he knew in this moment to do what he thought was best. He leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. He ignored any emotion he felt towards the gesture, his attention completely centralized on you. “Y-You know i’m not the b-b-best with words, but I p-promise everything’s gonna be okay,” He mumbled, his chocolate eyes filled with worry as he tried to catch your gaze. Your glassy eyes eventually met his, your bottom lip trembling as you confessed, “He’s the one who left me, Toby.”

You might as well have shot him dead then and there. Toby couldn’t feel pain, due to a list of neurological disorders he couldn’t bother to remember. But he knew for a fact he felt a pang of despair mixed with anger thud in his chest. “P-Piece of shit,” He grumbled, his hands still cupping your cheeks. The animalistic side of Toby wanted to find him, to make him hurt for causing you so much pain. But the soft look in your eyes, the way you were borderline clinging to him, made those thoughts evaporate. You came first. You needed him. You needed Toby more than you needed anyone. Swallowing thickly Toby tilted your head upwards, forcing you to look at him.

“You’re b-better off without him, alright? I never liked him anyways,” Toby started. Maybe this wasn’t the correct way to comfort someone, maybe he should try a different route instead of spewing insults. He dug into his jacket pocket, pulling out a small joint. “It’s n-not much but, we can s-smoke and talk about it,” He offered. This made a sad smile creep up your lips, your hands moving to open the window. “I think i’d like that Toby,” You agreed. You both readjusted in your seats, turning to face the window. Toby admired the moon as you took the joint between your lips, sparking the lighter. Again, social constructs were foreign to him. But as he threw his arm around your shoulders and pulled you closer, he got the sense he made the right decision.

[borathae]

Grief is a funny thing

"Grief is a funny thing. You think that you got over it until you are sitting on a random bench, on a random Monday night and it comes back to remind you that it will always be part of you."

Pairing: CEO!Jungkook x f.Reader

Genre: Angst, married life!AU, Hurt & Comfort

Warnings: OC graduated yaay!!, but it brings up old memories for her and she is in a state of guilt & grief, talk about loss of family and grief that won't leave, tears, but Jungkook is there for her and he is such a comfort, i love him a lot

Wordcount: 2.1k

a/n: sometimes i have the desire to write something angsty for the aaol!couple. listennn, i reread some of the main chapters again and i wanted to write something about OC's grief over her brother and how Kook handles her grief episodes. soo that's why this was created <3

You graduated. You actually did it. You are officially a person with a masters degree. You are something. The degree is at home where you left it. On the living room coffee table next to an empty glass of water. 

You can’t look at it.  

Nobody would get you if you told them that you don’t want to look at it, because it’s insane. You are aware of it. For years, all you dreamt of was being something one day. And then it happened and you were able to pursue your dream education and to graduate. You literally fulfilled your biggest dream, it should make you happy and it does, but it also doesn’t. Deep down in your heart you know the reason for it, but you aren’t ready to admit it to yourself yet. It would make you cry. You hate crying for negative reasons.

Your phone rings. This is the third time it does and you know that you can’t ignore whoever is calling you any longer. 

Your heart stings when you check their ID. 

Your Jungkookie is calling. You pick up, feeling guilty as you do. 

“Yes?”

“Oh my god, finally. Thank god. Where are you? I’ve been trying to reach you for what feels like hours. Are you okay?” Jungkook sounds distressed on the other side of the line. Understandably. It is currently one in the morning and you left without warning. 

“I’m okay, just went for a walk.”

“At one in the morning?” he sounds confused. Understandably so. You are normally sleeping at this time of day. 

“Yeah, well. Yeah, I guess.”

“It’s pouring buckets right now.”

“I guess it is.”

Silence on his side where he clearly tries to process what you are saying. 

“Where are you? I’m coming to pick you up”, he says in the end.

“Paradis. The bench in front of it.”

Another silence. Understandably. You never went back there again after quitting your job.

“Just…just stay there. I’ll be quick”, Jungkook tries to sound neutral, but the anxiety is clear in his voice.

“Yeah, okay.”

“I adore you.”

“I adore you too.”

The call ends. You shove the phone back into your jacket pocket and continue to stare at the sign while the rain pours down on you. Jungkook doesn’t need to worry. You weren’t planning on leaving this bench for quite a while. All of this studying about how to help people and you feel helpless. It almost paralyzes you and makes time pass in a blur.

Jungkook runs to get to you, getting wet even under the umbrella as the water slaps against him. He calls out your name. You turn your head slowly, looking at him with tired, empty eyes. 

“Oh my god, my love. You scared me so much. Why would you leave without saying anything?” he says, falling around your neck to hug you against him. 

Your body falls into him. He is warm and his hug is tight. He cradles the back of your head, twisting parts of your jacket with his other hand. 

“You made me worry like crazy. Please don’t ever do this again”, he says between little kisses all over your face and head.

“I’m sorry.” 

“Apology accepted, my love. Just tell me what’s wrong, please.” 

Now that he is with you and you are in his arms, the state of you is so clear to you. 

“I’m really cold.” 

“No wonder. It’s fucking November and you’re sitting here getting drenched.” He says, trying to warm you by rubbing your back. “Come on, let’s go home.”

“Yeah. Okay.”

You let him help you to your feet. You hook arms with him, hugging his arm with both hands. You even go as far as to rest your head against it. Jungkook holds the umbrella even though you and he are already soaked to the bones. 

“You’re worrying me, my love. What’s the matter?” he asks.

You and he walk back to his car at a slow pace.

“I don’t know”, you say.

“Why did you come here? Out of all the places?”

“I don’t know. I was at my old place too. It’s a storehouse for the restaurant these days.”

“Yeah? Well, I don’t really get why you’re here and what you’re doing. I’m sorry.” 

“I can’t look at it.”

“Look at what?”

“My masters.”

Silence. You can watch him as he processes what you said. You can also see how he is trying so hard to be supportive.

“Please don’t take it the wrong way, but why? I’m not judging, just having a hard time understanding this correctly.”

You cuddle closer. He always knows exactly what to say. It feels reassuring when he is honest. He might not understand, but he wants to. This is what unconditional love feels like. 

“Whenever I look at it, I feel sick. I fulfilled my biggest dream and I’m happy, but I also feel lost.”

“I see. Now I understand. It’s scary knowing that something as big as college is over, but didn’t you play with the idea of doing your PhDs too?”

“Yeah, I did.”

“See? It’s not over yet if you want to. You have all the choices in the world. You can open your praxis or pursue your doctor’s degree. You have all the possibilities in the world. I’ll support you in any of them.” 

“I guess.”

“Unless that’s what you’re lost with. Do you struggle with deciding?”

“I struggle with accepting the reality that I am something.”

“No, my love”, he gasps.

“I feel unworthy of it. I had this life”, you say, gesturing at the general direction of Paradis. “And now I have a Masters in psychology with chances of becoming a fucking doctor. It’s insane. I shouldn’t have this.”

“Yes, you should”, Jungkook insists loudly, furrowing his brows, “you worked so hard for it. I had to carry you to bed sometimes when you fell asleep by your desk because you were so exhausted from studying. Remember?” 

“Yeah.”

“See? You literally worked your ass off for it. You should have it, for fuck’s sake. You wanted it for years and I won’t let you feel like this now.” 

You and he stop in front of his car. He shakes you by your shoulders gently as if to shake you awake from your self-deprecating nightmare. 

“You’re intelligent, resourceful and hardworking, ambitious and resilient and you got your degree because of that. You are amazing and you worked hard for it. You deserve it.” 

You nod your head, but say nothing to it.

“Okay, my love?”

He looks at you. You look at your feet.

“Okay, my love?” he stresses, caressing your cheek gently.

“Jungkook, I miss my brother”, you confess what truly hurts so bad, instantly breaking into tears.

“Oh ___ my love, I’m sorry. Come here”, Jungkook gasps, wrapping his unoccupied arm around you.

You melt into his chest, sobbing into it while he holds you and comforts you. 

“He and I, we always fantasised about how it would be to become something. He always talked about sending me off to college one day. But he’s dead and he won’t ever see that I actually did it. He’s dead. Why is he fucking dead?”

“Oh my love. I’m sorry. Life is so unfair”, Jungkook gets out, crying with you.

“It hurts so bad. He was supposed to see me off to college and, and see me graduate.”

“He was. He really was”, Jungkook agrees, sobbing afterwards which gives you so much comfort. It feels so reassuring and comforting so cry with him. You don’t even mind crying for negative reasons when he is with you. 

“I feel so guilty. He was supposed to escape this life with me. We were supposed to get healthy and be happy.”

“You were, my love. But it’s not your fault. He wouldn’t want you to feel guilty for changing your life for the better.”

“I know, but it still hurts.”

You look up at Jungkook, spilling tears. He does as well, cradling your cheek.

“He was supposed to know you. He was supposed to walk me down the aisle and, and be happy for me because I fell in love with someone like you.”

Jungkook smiles, sniffling. 

“He was supposed to be there on my happiest days. Why did he have to die?”

“I don’t know and it’s so unfair.”

“It is. He, he was supposed to be there for me on those days. He was…” A sob interrupts you. Jungkook soothes it with gentle touches to your arms. “It hurts so much to know that he won’t ever see who I became. I will always stay this little, drug addicted orphan girl to him. It hurts so bad that I never became someone different to him.”

“No, my love no. I’m sure that his spirit is still somewhere out there and he watched you grow up and become who you are today, my love.”

“Do you really think that?” you ask, looking at him with child-like hopefulness in your eyes.

“I do. I’m sure he is currently looking down at you and he feels proud and happy.”

“I hope so”, you say and lower your head. Tears drip down from your cheeks. “Urgh god, I hate crying”, you get out, wiping at your own face aggressively.

“Hey no.” Jungkook stops you gently. “Don’t. You’ll hurt yourself.”

You look up at him while he holds your hands. He caresses your chin with the same hand, using his thumb for it.

“Let’s go home, okay?” he suggests in a soft voice. 

You nod your head.  

“Come on, I’ll drive.” 

You let him help you into the car. You stare outside as he drives off and you continue to stare outside as he drives through the city. It’s late and it's raining, which means that the streets are almost empty for a change. Jungkook doesn’t have the radio on. The purring of the car and the rain against the window are all the noises you hear. He has his hand on your thigh, giving you constant rubs of comfort. It’s warm and it’s nice.

You and he drove for a while when you break the silence.

“I’m sorry.”

He glances at you.

“For what?”

“For running off without warning. For being so ungrateful for my masters. For dumping all of my stuff on you.”

“I’m not even gonna play into this right now because there’s nothing for you to be sorry for”, Jungkook answers you with slight anger in his voice. He isn’t angry at you, but your self-deprecating use of words.

You hold his hand.

“I’m just so messy and you’re so good”, you confess. 

“You’re tired and you’re exhausted. Today was a very overwhelming day. Don’t believe your thoughts anymore, my love.”

You and he stop at a red light. 

“You love me, right?”

Jungkook instantly leans over to kiss you. First your lips, then your forehead.

“I love you so much”, he whispers, cradling your cheek and gazing deep into your eyes. “I love everything about you, even the messiest and darkest parts. I always have and always will.” 

You can’t bear to look into his eyes anymore, lowering your head shyly. The red light switches from red to green back to red again in the time you and he sit in the car and let his words sink in. The rain sounds calming as it hits the car. 

“What are you thinking right now?” he asks in a quiet, gentle voice. 

“A lot. Grief and guilt and, and… I guess, I’m thinking that I don’t feel overwhelmed anymore now that I talked about it with you.” 

“Yes? This makes me happy to hear. I’ll always be there for you. And I’ll always come and get you from wherever you run off to.” 

He makes you laugh. Jungkook laughs with you, kissing your forehead. The light switches to green. He takes this chance and drives off, holding your hand as he does.

“Jungkook, I wanna take a shower and then talk in bed”, you tell him.

“That sounds good. We’ll shower and then we’ll cuddle and you can tell me all about your brother.”

“But I already told you everything.”

“And? It won’t ever be boring to me.” 

“Oh.” 

A deep breath fills your lungs and as it leaves you again, you feel lighter. You rest your head against the window, looking at him. The rainy night city passes him, the changing lights paint the prettiest of artworks onto his face.

“You’re the best goddamn thing that ever happened to me.”

Jungkook squeezes your hand because that is all he can do right now in fear of looking away from traffic for too long.

“I can say the same about you, my love.”

[kumabeom]

mistletoe - beomgyu

summary : beomgyu spends the entirety of yeonjun’s christmas party trying to get you under the mistletoe with him.

warnings : 1.2k words, AGAIN NOT PROOFREAD, beomgyu gets annoyed at yeonjun who is plotting a revenge plan

it was rare for beomgyu to have some sort of annoyance targeted towards yeonjun. typically, it was the other way around, usually, beomgyu was the one who attempted to make yeonjun get riled up. it was never the other way around. in fact, beomgyu woke up feeling rather happy today. he woke up, spent a bit of time to himself, then got ready to attend yeonjun’s christmas party. once he was ready, he went to go pick you up.

when he picked you up, god, he felt his heart drop into his stomach. in fact, he was so ready to drop the whole party thing just to stay in with you. unfortunately it just wasn’t a party that he could sit out. especially if it was his bestfriend’s party, not to mention how you helped pick a gift out for him and now you were so excited to see and hear yeonjuns reaction.

so when the two of you arrived at yeonjun’s house, seeing all the mistletoes placed in doorways, beomgyu had one goal. he needed to get you underneath one of those mistletoes and kiss you. it wasn’t a want, it was a need.

the first time that beomgyu sent a death stare right into yeonjun’s back was the second that he saw you right within the doorframe, beomgyu started to make his way over to you, noticing the way that you seemed to be looking around for him. eyes glistening even brighter than ever when you caught sight of him, excitedly calling him over. but beomgyu took one look above you and watched as yeonjun removed the mistletoe from behind, sticking his tongue out at beomgyu. your excitement still on full display as you missed yeonjun’s devious act. although you noticed beomgyu’s gradual decline in attitude, looking up and noticing that the mistletoe was completely gone. walking over to beomgyu and still placing a kiss on his lip.. the issue lied in the fact that beomgyu wanted to kiss you under the mistletoe.. not just anywhere else, he always had time to kiss you, but a kiss under the mistletoe was special.

the second time that beomgyu got annoyed was when the two of you were finally underneath the mistletoe at the same time, lips about to meet, when yeonjun happened to bump into beomgyu, moving him completely to the side and leaving yeonjun under the mistletoe with you. of course, yeonjun wasn’t that messed up to actually mess around with your relationship. so he just patted your shoulder and kept moving, attending to other guests that he had over. beomgyu felt furious, and to make matters worse, yeonjun removed the mistletoe. again.

the third time was beomgyu’s last and final straw, deciding to grab a mistletoe that yeonjun had hung up, stuffing it into his pocket. and when he felt the time was right, he pulled it out right above the two of you. although, you made a bit of a mistake and you hadn’t realized what he was doing until yeonjun already had a hold of the stolen mistletoe.

this all caused beomgyu to get rather upset, and at this point something in his gut was telling him that you were in on it too! how could it have taken you so long to realize there was a literal mistletoe hanging above the two of you! and when he got pushed out of the way by yeonjun, why didn’t you cling onto his arm so that yeonjun’s small shove wouldn’t have impacted him in the way it did! oh he was just so furious, you noticed his change in demeanor throughout the night. he easily recovered from the first accident, hoping that it was going to be the last one of the night. but as he noticed the reoccurring pattern, he only got more upset.

the two of you were standing there, together, arm in arm as you watched yeonjun and a few of his friends take shots, giving cheers to a merry and jolly christmas. although at this point, beomgyu couldn’t even handle to look at yeonjun in the eyes. he couldn’t even look at you in the eyes and he wasn’t even sure why! maybe he was still conspiring this theory against you, but he just felt so annoyed, it started to blind his rational thinking.

you watched as he suddenly barged out, leaving you stranded by yourself. you truly did feel guilty, especially for the way that you could’ve prevented some of these from happening. you took a look at yeonjun and he nodded as he passed you a mistletoe, one that used to be hanging but he took down due to beomgyu’s attempt to kiss you. you thanked him for it, exiting the loud crowd and finally basking in silence, you found beomgyu sitting on yeonjun’s porch. taking a seat next to him as he let out a sigh.

“all done with your boyfriend.” he commented, you knew he didn’t mean it, but it didn’t make it hurt any less. you truly hadn’t known that beomgyu was going to end up so upset at what yeonjun told you was his plan of revenge for all the annoyance that beomgyu had given him.

“are you gonna dump me..?” you innocently asked, knowing how you were going to approach his previous comment.

“no..” he muttered, picking at the stupid flowers yeonjun had outside of his home. beomgyu wasn’t even sure how he found a random flower when it was the middle of winter.

“then of course i’m not.. i love my boyfriend even when he gets a little mad.. but he makes me the happiest in the world.” you couldn’t help but giggle, a smile finally breaking on beomgyu’s face as he turned over to look at you, only barely realizing that you had no sweater on, the cold hitting you all at once.

“are you insane ! why’d you come out here with no jacket on ! you’re going to get sick !” he quickly removed his own puffer jacket, enveloping you in his warmth. you smiled, placing a kiss on his cheek, as you innocently pointed to your own puffer jacket that was sitting on yeonjun’s lawn chair. you put it there hoping that it would encourage beomgyu to walk over to you, which it did. what he also didn’t notice was the mistletoe hanging over his head. one that you had placed above him right before he had turned to look at you. he watched as you moved the direction of your finger from your jacket to the plant hanging right above the two of you.

placing your hands carefully on his cheeks and pulling him gently into a kiss. which he gladly returned, his hand coming up to caress your cheek, while the other was holding a spot on your waist. he loved this, he loved you.

all he ever wanted was to make a memorable christmas special for you and he really needed to make it happen. it was needless to say that beomgyu was always a romantic person, so obviously he just needed to complete his goal.

“-wanna go inside..?” you asked, removing beomgyu’s jackets and placing it back around his shoulders, grabbing yours off of yeonjun’s chair and placing it around you. you turned to look at beomgyu but he was waving you over, innocent smile on his face. you walked over, knowing exactly what it was that he wanted, pressing one more kiss on his lips as you walked underneath the mistletoe

“i wanna go home and watch a movie with you..”

©️kumabeom

permanent taglist : @run2seob @soobadooba @mrsyawnzzn @matcha-binz @tinyelfperson @strwbrrykthv @bloomngspring

[revelboo]

I've never been so sucked into a Megatron fic as I have been by your Broken Arrow series. I'm really interested to see if y/n will break and how Megatron would handle it if they did! It's very exciting!

I do love playing with tension. 18+ mass displaced mech 🌶️

Broken Arrow Pt 12

TFP Megatron x Reader

• “Don’t,” you growl the word at him, shoving at his arm as he drags you back into him so he can curl around your much smaller form. Hating that you don’t hate this contact. Especially as he slowly wraps the length of your leash around his palm and vents against the back of your neck. Knowing you’re not getting away from him until he lets you and trying not to think about what you’d done with him or that you’d enjoyed it. Because nothing about this should be okay to you, but there’s still that part of you that had actually been scared for him when he’d been injured. That had warmed at his teasing and taunts despite yourself. That knew he could have hurt you so many times, but no matter what he says, those sharp claws are always so gentle like he’s afraid of breaking you. Despite biting you.

• Finally, you relax against him, your back to his front. Giving up after realizing he’s not letting go. Maybe biding your time hoping he’ll slip into recharge and turn you loose. Still not realizing that he’s never letting you go now. “We don’t need to be enemies,” he murmurs, servos sliding down over your hip and you grab his wrist when he slides lower to cup you. “As lovely as your anger is, I like the way you look out of control, too.” Stroking you, he feels your fingers tighten on him, but not even trying to pull his hand away. Enjoying his touch no matter how you balk at it, as you rock yourself against his palm. Wanting to hate him, but you can’t, can you?

• Those sharp denta brush the shell of your ear, nip at the lobe and those awful servos keep playing with you, lazily exploring. And when you shift against him more on your hip and lift your thigh, he immediately tunnels a servo inside you, mindful of those claws. Out of control? He has no idea. You’re still clinging to his wrist as he slowly fucks you with that servo, pressing your head back against him as you go taut. Hating when you begin rocking your hips against his hand, needing more friction and he chuckles against your hair. He’s still got your leash and you can feel that breathless pull that he’s bound you with when he’d forced your fingers into contact with his spark. But if he has your leash, you have his, too. He’s growling against you, servos petting as you slicken for him. You can feel his spike against your butt, pulsing and hot as a brand. As affected as you are. “More,” you whimper, straining against his hand and swearing when he pulls it away in response. Denying you. Teasing.

• Laughing at your frustration, he shifts your thigh up enough that he can find you and bury himself inside you, groaning against your neck at how tight you are like this, listening to your breathy little noise of pleasure. Feeling you grip his spike. “Patience,” he growls, lips brushing your cheek. “Isn’t this better than fighting me every step of the way?” Moving deliberately to rock himself slowly against you and stroking deep. Palm sliding up to rest against your chest, against the frantic beat of your heart.

• This is a new form of torture, thrusting almost lazily against you in no real hurry when you just want to reach that peak again. But his words twist through you, because you could submit and enjoy this. Enjoy him. Because even if he grumbles about it, he listens to you, seems to care about your opinion. Would it be so bad to surrender and sit by his side? Spend your nights in his berth and your days pulling at his leash, trying to curb his worst impulses? “Make me,” you whisper and his servos tighten on you as he snarls.

• Stubborn brat. Rolling you partially under him, he begins to move faster against you, driving deep again and again. Because that rebelliousness unravels his control. Make you? Those little noises of need you make spurring him on as he ruts against you. “You’re mine.” If it takes all night, he’s going to get that through your head. You come undone against him, crying out his name as you fist his spike in wet, silken heat. And he keeps moving against you until he’s sheathing himself deep to release inside you. Hips rocking to drag it out for both of you. “Say it.”

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[enemiestolovershoe]

Silent Tension

Matt Sturniolo x enemie!reader

Summary: Matt and Y/N were best friends until one argument turned them into enemies. Will they ever find a way back to each other?

Warnings: arguments, fighting, making out, lmk if you find anything else.

Words: 5.2k

The kindergarten days felt like a lifetime ago now. Back then, the four of you were inseparable. Matt, Nick, Chris, and you were a perfectly chaotic little crew, spending recess planning adventures and sticking together against anyone who dared mess with one of you. Matt had been your closest match back then—quick-witted, stubborn, and full of ideas. You thought that bond would never break.

But high school changed everything.

It started small, with arguments over who got shotgun during group rides. Then came the endless bickering about group projects and plans. By sophomore year, the fights had escalated into something sharper, something mean.

“You can’t just do everything yourself,” Matt said one night, frustration thick in his voice.

“It’s not my fault you can’t handle it!” you snapped back, shoving a notebook into your bag after another group study session gone wrong.

Nick, sprawled on the couch with a soda in hand, raised an eyebrow. “Uh-oh. Here we go again.”

“You’re such a control freak,” Matt muttered, crossing his arms.

“And you’re lazy,” you shot back without missing a beat.

Chris, ever the calm one, stepped in. “Alright, that’s enough. Can we focus? This isn’t helping anyone.”

But Matt wasn’t done. “You think you’re better than everyone else because you plan everything to death. Newsflash: it’s annoying.”

“At least I don’t sit around waiting for other people to pick up the slack!”

“Guys, please!” Chris sighed, rubbing his temples. “You’re giving me a headache.”

Nick grinned, throwing a pillow at Matt. “Yeah, cool it, bro. You’re scaring Chris.”

By junior year, the tension had spread beyond school. Group hangouts became a minefield.

One night at the mall, Matt and you ended up in yet another screaming match over something stupid.

“All I’m saying is, we didn’t need to spend an hour waiting for you to pick out a stupid hoodie,” Matt said, throwing up his hands as the group headed back to Nick’s car.

“It wasn’t just about the hoodie, Matt,” you snapped, glaring at him. “Maybe if you weren’t so impatient, we’d actually enjoy going out as a group.”

“Impatient? You’re the one who wasted everyone’s time.”

Nick piped up from the backseat, turning to grin at Chris. “Think we should start selling tickets? This is better than reality TV.”

Chris shot Nick a look. “Not helping.”

“Whatever,” Matt muttered. “Next time, just leave me out of it.”

“Gladly,” you said, slamming the car door behind you.

The ride home was silent, the air thick with unresolved anger.

Then there was the infamous beach trip during senior year. What should’ve been a relaxing day turned into yet another battlefield.

“Can you at least try to help with the setup?” you asked, struggling to hammer an umbrella into the sand while Matt sat under the shade of a nearby tree, scrolling on his phone.

“I’m supervising,” he said with a smirk, not even glancing up.

“You’re useless,” you muttered under your breath, loud enough for him to hear.

“Excuse me?” Matt stood up, his tone sharp.

“You heard me.”

Nick and Chris exchanged a look, already bracing for the explosion.

“Maybe if you weren’t so bossy, people would actually want to help you,” Matt shot back.

“Maybe if you weren’t so lazy, people wouldn’t have to pick up your slack,” you retorted, standing toe-to-toe with him now.

Nick broke the tension with an exaggerated sigh. “Okay, Mom and Dad, can we chill? Some of us are here to, like, enjoy the beach.”

Chris stepped between you two, his voice calm but firm. “Seriously, stop. This is getting old.”

You stormed off, muttering under your breath about how impossible Matt was. He didn’t try to follow.

By the time you were 21, things were worse than ever. Group events had become rare, mostly because no one wanted to deal with the inevitable clash between you and Matt.

At one game night, the tension boiled over again.

“Can you not cheat for once in your life?” Matt snapped as you reached for a card in a particularly heated game of Uno.

“I’m not cheating, you idiot. Maybe if you paid attention, you’d actually win for once.”

Chris sighed from his spot beside you, his patience clearly wearing thin. “It’s a card game. Can we not turn this into World War 3?”

Matt ignored him, leaning forward with a scowl. “You always do this. You can’t handle losing, so you find some way to bend the rules.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, Mr. Perfect. I forgot you’re the expert on everything.”

Nick laughed, shaking his head. “Man, y’all really need couples therapy.”

“Nick, shut up,” you and Matt said in unison, which only made him laugh harder.

Chris stood up, clearly done. “Okay, game night’s over. You two can keep fighting, but I’m not babysitting anymore.”

As Chris walked out of the room, Nick looked between you and Matt with a smirk. “So, who’s gonna admit they’re in love first?”

You threw a pillow at him. “Nick, I swear—”

Matt scoffed, crossing his arms. “As if.”

“Exactly,” you snapped, glaring at him. “You’d be the last person I’d ever—”

“Good! Glad we’re on the same page,” Matt interrupted, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Nick laughed again. “Man, you two are exhausting. But, like, in a fun way.”

Chris peeked back in from the hallway, his calm voice cutting through the chaos. “You’re not fun. You’re a headache. Both of you.”

As the tension settled for the night, you couldn’t help but wonder how it had come to this. Somewhere along the way, the friendship you once had with Matt had turned into a battlefield, and neither of you seemed willing to wave the white flag.

It was a sweltering summer afternoon, the kind that made everyone irritable. You’d come over to hang out with Chris and Nick, hoping to escape the heat and distract yourself from a long week. Matt, as usual, was there too.

From the moment you walked in, you could feel the tension. It was always there with Matt—humming under the surface, waiting for one of you to ignite it.

“Alright, who’s down for a Mario Kart tournament? Loser buys slushies,” Nick said, grabbing controllers from the cabinet.

Chris nodded. “I’m in. But Nick, you’re buying either way.

Nick grinned. “Bold of you to assume.”

You grabbed a controller, feeling a flicker of competitiveness. “Hope you’re ready to lose, Nick.”

Matt, leaning against the counter, crossed his arms. “You should worry about yourself. You’ve never beaten me.”

You rolled your eyes. “There’s a first time for everything.”

The game started off fine—until you accidentally bumped Matt’s character off the track.

“Oh, come on!” Matt exclaimed, leaning forward. “You did that on purpose.”

“It’s called strategy,” you shot back, grinning.

Matt’s scowl deepened as the race continued. When the final lap ended, your character crossed the finish line ahead of his. You threw your hands up triumphantly. “Yes! Finally!”

Matt tossed his controller onto the couch, glaring at you. “You only won because you cheated.”

You blinked, the excitement draining from your face. “How did I cheat?”

“You bumped me off the track,” Matt said, his tone accusatory.

“That’s part of the game, Matt,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady.

“No, it’s not,” he snapped. “You’re always like this—always cutting corners to get ahead.”

“Cutting corners?” you repeated, standing up. “It’s a stupid game. Maybe if you weren’t such a sore loser, you’d actuallyhave fun.”

“Oh, I’m the sore loser?” Matt said, getting to his feet as well.

Nick, sensing the brewing storm, raised his hands. “Alright, time out. It’s just Mario Kart, guys.”

Chris sighed, already rubbing his temples. “Can we not?”

But the two of you were locked in now.

“You always do this,” Matt said, his voice rising. “You act like you’re better than everyone else, but you’re just as petty as the rest of us.”

Your jaw dropped. “Are you kidding me? You’re the one making a big deal out of this!”

“Oh, because you’re so perfect, right?” Matt shot back, sarcasm dripping from his voice. “You can’t handle being called out, so you turn it around on me.”

“Maybe I wouldn’t have to if you weren’t so impossible to deal with!”

Chris stood up, his calm demeanor cracking slightly. “Seriously, enough. This isn’t worth fighting over.”

“Stay out of it, Chris,” Matt said, not taking his eyes off you.

Chris frowned but didn’t argue.

“You know what your problem is?” Matt continued, stepping closer. “You’re so controlling. Everything has to be your way, and if it’s not, you freak out.”

“I’m not controlling,” you snapped. “I’m just tired of cleaning up after you all the time!”

Matt scoffed. “Cleaning up after me? You don’t even know what you’re talking about.”

Nick tried to step in again, his voice light but firm. “Guys, seriously, take a breath. Go outside or something.”

But it was too late. The fight was spiraling.

“Don’t I?” you said, crossing your arms. “You’re lazy, Matt. You never help with anything unless someone forces you to, and then you complain the whole time.”

“Oh, I’m lazy?” Matt shot back, his voice sharp. “At least I don’t bulldoze over everyone like you do. You think you’re so much better because you plan everything to death, but really, you’re just scared of messing up.”

Your chest tightened, his words cutting deeper than you expected. “Wow. Thanks for the insight, Dr. Matt. Maybe if you spent less time tearing me down, you’d actually accomplish something for once.”

Matt’s face darkened. “Tearing you down? You’re the one who’s always on my case. Every little thing I do, you have something to say about it.”

“Because you make it so easy!”

“You know what? I’m done,” Matt said, throwing his hands up. “You’re exhausting. No wonder people can’t stand being around you.”

“Excuse me?” you said, your voice trembling with anger. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Matt didn’t back down. “It means maybe your ex had a point.”

The room went silent.

Chris and Nick both froze, their eyes snapping to Matt in disbelief.

“What did you just say?” you asked, your voice low and unsteady.

Chris stepped forward, his voice firm. “Matt, don’t.”

But Matt ignored him. “Maybe your ex wouldn’t have cheated on you if you weren’t so suffocating.”

Your stomach dropped. Tears pricked your eyes as his words sunk in. “You’re unbelievable.”

Chris immediately stepped in, standing between you and Matt. “That’s enough. You’ve crossed the line.”

Nick’s voice was louder now. “Matt, what the hell is wrong with you?”

But Matt wasn’t done. “I’m just saying what everyone else is too scared to say.”

Your hands shook as you struggled to hold back tears. “You’re such a coward,” you said, your voice breaking. “You can’t handle your own issues, so you take them out on me. Well, congrats, Matt. You finally broke me. Are you happy now?”

Tears streamed down your face as you turned away, unable to look at him anymore.

Chris stepped forward, his calm voice laced with anger. “Go to your room. Now.”

Matt hesitated, glaring at you one last time before storming off, slamming his door behind him.

As soon as he was gone, Chris turned to you, his expression softening. “Hey, come here.”

You let out a shaky breath as he pulled you into a hug.

“Why does he hate me so much?” you whispered, your voice cracking. “What did I do to make him like this?”

“He doesn’t hate you,” Chris said softly, rubbing your back. “He’s just… an idiot.”

Nick grabbed a glass of water and handed it to you. “Yeah, a massive idiot. Like, the biggest idiot I’ve ever met.”

You tried to laugh, but it came out as a sob. “I can’t keep doing this, Chris. Every time I come here, it’s like he’s waiting to tear me apart.”

Chris pulled back, cupping your face gently so you’d meet his eyes. “Listen to me. You didn’t do anything wrong. He’s just angry—at himself, at whatever—but it’s not about you.”

“Then why does it feel like it is?” you whispered, tears still streaming down your face.

Chris sighed, pulling you back into a hug. “I don’t know. But I’m going to fix it, okay? I promise.”

Nick sat beside you, patting your shoulder. “Yeah, and if he doesn’t apologize, I’ll pants him in public.”

You let out a weak laugh, wiping your eyes. “Thanks, Nick. That’s… oddly comforting.”

Chris stayed by your side, his calm presence steadying you as you tried to piece yourself back together. But no matter how much he reassured you, Matt’s words lingered, cutting deeper than you wanted to admit.

About an hour had passed since the fight, and the tension in the house still hung heavy in the air. You were curled up on the couch with Chris, his arm draped protectively over your shoulder. Nick sat on the floor in front of you, scrolling through his phone and cracking occasional jokes to try and lighten the mood.

You’d stopped crying, but your chest still felt tight, your breathing shallow. Every time you thought about what Matt had said, it was like the wound reopened.

Chris’s hand absentmindedly rubbed your arm. “You good?” he asked quietly.

You nodded, though you didn’t feel entirely okay. “Better. Thanks for… you know, being here.”

“Always,” he said softly.

Nick glanced over his shoulder with a faint grin. “If you need me to distract you, I can pull up Matt’s senior photo. That thing’s a crime against humanity.”

You let out a weak laugh. “Thanks, Nick. I think I’ll pass.”

Just then, footsteps sounded from the stairs. Matt was coming down, his movements hesitant but deliberate.

Your stomach immediately twisted into knots, and you stiffened against Chris.

He noticed immediately. “Relax,” Chris whispered. “You’re safe.”

Nick, sensing the shift, turned to Matt with a warning look. “If you’re coming down to start something again, you can turn right back around and go upstairs.”

Matt shook his head, shoving his hands into his pockets. “I’m not here to fight.”

You looked at him warily, unsure of what to expect.

“Actually,” Matt continued, his voice quieter than usual, “I wanted to talk to Y/N. Alone.”

You stiffened even more, your breath catching in your throat. “What for? So you can tear me apart again? Bring up my past and rub salt in the wound?” Your voice cracked, still raw from earlier.

Matt winced, his jaw tightening. “No. I’m not here to do that. I… I want to apologize. But I’d rather do it one-on-one.”

Chris’s grip on your shoulder tightened protectively. “I don’t think that’s a good idea right now,” he said, his calm tone carrying a slight edge.

“Yeah,” Nick chimed in, crossing his arms. “She’s been through enough today. Whatever you need to say, you can say it in front of us.”

Matt shook his head. “Look, I get it. I’ve been a total dick, okay? But I need to fix this, and I can’t do that with you two hovering.” He turned to you, his gaze earnest. “Please, Y/N. Just give me five minutes. I promise, no fighting. No bringing up the past.”

You stared at him, your heart pounding. You didn’t trust him—not after everything—but there was something different in his tone. He didn’t sound like the sharp, defensive Matt you’d been clashing with for years. He sounded… vulnerable.

Chris’s voice broke through your thoughts. “You don’t have to do this if you’re not ready.”

Nick nodded. “Seriously. You’ve got nothing to prove to him.”

You hesitated, your gaze flicking between Matt and his brothers. Part of you wanted to shut him down, to tell him to leave you alone. But another part—the part that was tired of the constant fighting—wanted to hear him out.

You let out a shaky breath. “What do you want to talk about?”

Matt glanced at the door, then back at you. “We still need to grab those slushies. We can talk on the way there. Neutral ground.”

Chris frowned. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“I’m not going to do anything,” Matt said, his voice firm but not aggressive. “I just… need to talk. Please.”

You looked at Chris and Nick, then back at Matt. Against your better judgment, you slowly nodded. “Fine. But if you say anything—anything—like what you said earlier, I’m leaving. Got it?”

Matt nodded immediately. “Got it. No low blows. I swear.”

Chris sighed, his hand lingering on your shoulder as you stood up. “You sure about this?”

“No,” you admitted, your voice still shaky. “But I’ll be fine.”

Nick raised an eyebrow. “Text me if you need a rescue mission.”

You gave him a faint smile. “I will.”

Matt grabbed his keys and held the door open for you, waiting as you slipped on your shoes. Your anxiety bubbled in your chest as you stepped outside, the warm summer air doing little to ease the tension in your body.

You glanced back at Chris and Nick, who were watching you like hawks from the couch. Chris gave you a small nod, his silent way of telling you that he had your back no matter what.

“Let’s go,” Matt said quietly, leading the way to his car.

As you got in, you couldn’t help but wonder what he was going to say—and if you’d regret giving him the chance.

You slid into the passenger seat, the car’s interior thick with unspoken tension. Matt climbed into the driver’s seat, closing the door with a quiet click. He rested his hands on the steering wheel but didn’t start the engine. Instead, he leaned back, staring straight ahead, his jaw tightening and loosening as if trying to find the right words.

Finally, he broke the silence.

“I am so fucking sorry, Y/N,” Matt said, his voice low but steady. “I don’t even know where to start. I—I don’t know what got into me earlier, but I regret it. Deeply. More than I can even put into words.”

You turned to look at him, studying his face. There was no trace of his usual anger or smugness. He looked… tired. Defeated.

He let out a long breath, running a hand through his hair. “I was out of line. Way out of line. What I said about your past, about your ex—it was cruel, and it wasn’t fair. You didn’t deserve that. Not then, not ever.”

You stayed quiet, unsure of what to say, but he continued.

“The truth is… I’ve been carrying around all this anger for so long. At first, I thought it was because you were always pushing my buttons or calling me out. But the more I think about it, the more I realize that it’s not about you at all. It’s about me. I’ve been projecting my own shit onto you, and that’s not okay.”

His hands tightened on the wheel as he glanced at you briefly, guilt etched into every line of his face. “You’ve been nothing but honest with me, and I’ve thrown that back in your face every chance I got. I don’t even know why. Maybe because it was easier to lash out at you than to deal with my own crap. But that’s not an excuse. I’ve hurt you, over and over again, and I hate myself for it.”

Your chest tightened at his words, the sincerity in his voice catching you off guard.

“I guess… I’ve been jealous of you,” Matt admitted, his voice quieter now. “You’ve always had this way of handling things—like, you’re so driven, so put-together. Even when things fall apart, you don’t let it stop you. And I hated that because it made me feel like a mess in comparison. Like I couldn’t measure up.”

“Matt…” you started, but he held up a hand.

“Please, let me finish,” he said, his voice almost pleading. “I know that doesn’t justify anything. I’ve been a shitty friend. Hell, I haven’t even treated you like a friend. I’ve treated you like someone I could take my frustrations out on, and I’m so, so sorry for that. I’m sorry for all the fights, all the insults, all the times I made you feel like you weren’t enough. Because you are enough, Y/N. More than enough.”

Tears welled up in your eyes, but you blinked them away, unsure if you were ready to forgive him yet.

Matt turned to face you fully now, his eyes earnest and a little glassy. “I don’t want to fight anymore. I’m tired of it. I don’t want you to feel like you can’t be around me, like you have to walk on eggshells every time we’re in the same room. You’ve always been there for my brothers, for all of us, and I’ve done nothing but push you away. I don’t want to do that anymore.”

He hesitated, swallowing hard before continuing. “I know I’ve got a long way to go to make things right. And I don’t expect you to forgive me right away. But I’m asking for a chance—a chance to show you that I can be better, that I want to be better. Not just for you, but for myself too.”

You felt your lip tremble as you tried to process everything he’d just said. The rawness of his apology, the vulnerability in his voice—it was so unlike the Matt you’d been clashing with for years.

Matt reached over hesitantly, his hand hovering near yours on the center console. “I mean it, Y/N. Every word. I’m sorry. And if there’s anything I can do to prove it to you, just tell me. I’ll do it.”

For a moment, you sat there in silence, his words hanging heavy in the air. Then, finally, you spoke, your voice soft but steady. “Why didn’t you just tell me all of this before? Instead of… everything else?”

He let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “Because I’m an idiot. And because it was easier to pretend it was your fault than to admit I was the one with the problem.”

You looked down at his hand, still hovering near yours, and after a moment of hesitation, you placed yours over it. His fingers curled around yours gently, as if he were afraid to scare you off.

“Matt…” you began, your voice trembling slightly. “I’m not saying everything’s magically okay now. But… I appreciate you saying all of this. I really do.”

A faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “That’s all I can ask for.”

You looked down, your thumb brushing over the back of his hand. There was something vulnerable in the air between you two, a tension that was unfamiliar and heavy but not unwelcome. For once, Matt didn’t feel like your enemy. He felt like someone who was finally trying to understand you.

“Can I…” Matt hesitated, his voice unusually soft. “Can I hug you?”

You blinked at him, taken aback by the sudden question. But the sincerity in his eyes made you nod without thinking.

“Yeah,” you murmured.

He exhaled in relief and leaned over, wrapping his arms around you carefully, almost as if he were afraid you might pull away. His embrace was warm, solid, and it took you a moment to relax into it. But when you did, you felt a strange sense of comfort, the kind you hadn’t felt around him in years.

You rested your head against his chest, and his hand came up to gently cradle the back of your head. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered again, his voice muffled but still so close to your ear.

“I know,” you replied softly.

You weren’t sure how long you stayed like that, wrapped in the quiet, tentative warmth of his arms. It felt like the weight of all those years of tension was melting away, even if only for a moment.

Eventually, you shifted slightly to look up at him, and Matt looked down at you. His expression was open, more vulnerable than you’d ever seen him before. For a brief second, neither of you moved, and the world outside the car seemed to fade away.

You hadn’t realized how close you were until your eyes dropped to his lips. They parted slightly, and his breath hitched. His gaze flicked to your mouth, and suddenly, it felt like the air in the car had grown impossibly heavy.

“Y/N…” he whispered, his voice low and unsure, as if testing the waters.

You didn’t respond—not with words, at least. Your breath caught in your throat, your heart hammering as you both leaned in, hesitantly at first. There was a moment’s pause, so brief it was almost imperceptible, and then your lips met.

The kiss was soft, tender, and filled with a quiet kind of desperation. It wasn’t rushed or messy; it was careful, like neither of you wanted to break whatever fragile thing had just been built between you.

Matt’s hand slipped from your back to your waist, pulling you just a little closer as his lips moved against yours. The warmth of his touch sent a shiver down your spine, and you found yourself responding instinctively, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt.

The kiss deepened slightly, and Matt tilted his head to the side, his nose brushing against yours. It was intimate in a way that left your heart pounding, your mind spinning.

Without breaking the kiss, Matt reached down and adjusted the seat lever, pulling it back to give you more room. His hands settled on your waist, gently guiding you over the center console and into his lap.

You let out a soft gasp against his lips as you straddled him, your knees pressing into the seat on either side of him. His hands stayed firm on your hips, grounding you as his lips continued to move against yours, slow but deliberate.

It was new, unfamiliar, and completely overwhelming—but it didn’t feel wrong. For once, it felt like the two of you weren’t at war. You weren’t fighting or tearing each other down. You were just… there, together, in a moment that felt like it belonged to no one else but you.

You weren’t sure how long you’d been kissing Matt, but it felt like time had stopped. The warmth of his hands on your waist anchored you, and the way his lips moved against yours felt so natural, so unlike anything you’d ever expected from him.

Between kisses, Matt pulled back just slightly, his forehead resting against yours. “Y/N…” he murmured, his voice a little breathless. “I don’t think I’ve ever…” He trailed off, a rare flush creeping up his neck.

You blinked at him, your chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath. “You’ve never what?”

He let out a quiet laugh, his hand brushing a strand of hair from your face. “I’ve never thought this would happen. Us. Like this. And… I kind of hate myself for waiting so long.”

His honesty left you momentarily stunned. This was Matt—your rival, the person who could always get under your skin. And yet, sitting here, holding you like you were the most fragile thing in the world, he wasn’t that Matt at all.

“Well, it’s happening now,” you said softly, a small smile playing on your lips. “And I don’t know if I’m ready to forgive you completely, but… this feels different. You feel different.”

“I am,” he promised, his thumb grazing your cheek. “I swear, I am.”

You leaned back into the kiss, this time with less hesitation and more certainty. His hands tightened on your hips, pulling you closer as the tension melted into something softer, more electric.

“Y/N,” he whispered against your lips between kisses. “I don’t want this to stop. But… if you want me to slow down, justsay the word.”

You shook your head slightly, brushing your nose against his. “I don’t want you to stop.”

His lips curved into a faint smile before they captured yours again. It wasn’t rushed or chaotic; it was patient, deliberate like he wanted to savor every second.

But just as you started to lose yourself in the moment, there was a sharp knock on the passenger-side window.

You froze, your eyes widening in panic as you turned to see Nick and Chris standing outside the car, smirking like they’d just won the lottery.

Matt groaned, letting his head fall back against the headrest. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” he muttered, his hands reluctantly dropping from your waist.

“Guess we’re busted,” you whispered, unable to stop the embarrassed smile that tugged at your lips.

Sliding off Matt’s lap, you scrambled back into the passenger seat, smoothing out your shirt and running a hand through your hair. Matt rubbed the back of his neck, looking equally flustered but unable to hide the amused smirk tugging at his lips.

Rolling down the window, you were met with Nick and Chris’s grinning faces.

“We just wanted to make sure you didn’t kill each other,” Chris said, barely holding back laughter. “We didn’t see the car drive away, so, you know, better safe than sorry.”

Nick leaned down, his grin absolutely wicked. “But clearly, you two found a different way to sort things out.”

“Real mature, Nick,” you shot back, though your cheeks were burning.

Matt leaned over the console, his arm casually draped across the back of your seat as he looked at his brothers. “Do you guys not have better things to do than stalk me?”

“Stalk you?” Nick gasped in mock offense. “We were concerned. Imagine our relief when we came out here and saw you weren’t choking each other—though, to be fair, this is definitely the opposite of what we expected.”

Chris snickered. “Honestly, I’m just shocked Y/N didn’t punch you in the face. Progress, I guess.”

You glanced at Matt, and to your surprise, he was smiling—not the smug, teasing smile you were used to, but a genuine one that softened his whole face.

“You know,” Matt said, his voice calm, “for once, I’m kind of glad you two interrupted. Otherwise, we might’ve stayed in here all night.”

Your jaw dropped slightly, and you smacked his arm playfully. “Matt!”

“What?” he said, feigning innocence as he held up his hands. “Just being honest.”

Chris raised an eyebrow. “Well, as much as I hate to break up this little love fest, are you guys still getting the slushies? Or were you planning to sit here making out until the sun comes up?”

You groaned, covering your face with your hands. “I can’t deal with you two.”

“Hey, you chose this life,” Nick quipped, winking.

Matt laughed, and to your surprise, the sound was lighthearted, even happy. He reached for the keys and started the car, shooting a glance at his brothers. “Don’t wait up.”

“Oh, we’re definitely waiting up,” Chris said with a grin. “This is going straight into the group chat.”

“Nick,” you groaned, giving him a pointed look, “if you just type one word—”

“I make no promises,” Nick interrupted, stepping back from the car as Matt began reversing out of the garage.

As you drove away, you couldn’t help but glance at Matt, your chest still fluttering from everything that had just happened. He caught your gaze and smiled, his hand resting on the console between you.

“Still okay?” he asked softly, his voice low enough that only you could hear.

You nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Yeah. I’m okay.”

And for the first time in years, you actually meant it.

[mayukisu]

ALHAITHAM X FEM!READER

tags: cockwarming, unprotected sex, exhibitionism (he lets kaveh watch), friends with benefits, modern au, overstimulation

He was trying to silence his own groans as he tried to keep you in place, an arm wrapping around your waist as the two of you were reading something on the couch. You came over, to his request, and it just so happened that his roommate Kaveh wasn't around. He had been frustrated for a couple of days and it didn't help that the two of you were too busy to meet up. Perhaps the time that Kaveh wasn't around was a blessing— he could finally take you.

To clear things up, you weren't actually in a relationship. You were just good friends, but when you were both sexually frustrated, you turn to each other. You go to him when you needed to be satisfied sexually, and he does the same to you. In short, you were friends with benefits. It had been like that for the past year, and you never had any complaints because nothing seemed to be the problem so far. In fact, everything seemed to go well that you could not take your hands off of each other.

With each time you spent intimately with each other, you were shown a whole new part of him. One night you'll discover that he's into choking, and then the other you'll find out that he was really into cockwarming. Not that you didn't like it, it just surprised you at first. When you found out that he was into cockwarming, you couldn't sleep properly for a few nights as you imagined yourselves in such a situation. It just so happened that today, you were both frustrated and needed each other's touch. Hence your current situation.

Alhaitham was reading a book, trying to spend his time more productively, while you were sitting on his lap, your hole swallowing up his every inch. Even though he needed you so bad, he still had a few books he wanted and needed to read. What better way to be satisfied and be productive at the same time, than having you take every inch of him as he reads? His thick cock was stretching you out, yet it felt too good, but you wanted some movement. You were getting aroused with all of his length shoved deep inside you. You wanted him to move his hips so that he'll reach deeper parts of you, but he had been very strict about not moving.

"Not an inch, baby," he said, whispering to your ear as he felt you trying to roll your hips for more friction. His grip on your waist tightened, and you felt his length grow bigger as it spread your walls more. "Fuck."

"But I want you to move," you replied, a slight whine evident in your voice. "Please put your book down and fuck me."

The moment he heard you plead to be fucked, he set his book down with a sigh and his hands gripped your waist tightly. You bit your lip, not wanting to admit that being handled like that was turning you on even more. When he guided your hips to grind on him as he thrusted up to you, you let out a few moans and whines as you felt his tip fuck deeper into your hole.

He was groaning, his tip hitting your cervix, but he immediately stopped the moment you two heard the door open— in came Kaveh, dark bags under his eyes as he dragged himself inside. His tired expression was replaced with flushed cheeks, something that both you and Alhaitham noticed. Another set of eyes that weren't Alhaitham's made you feel too exposed and embarrassed, as your needy hole wrapped nicely around his pulsating cock.

"I-I'm sorry," Kaveh stuttered, but his eyes were focused on where the two of you were connected.

With a sigh, Alhaitham slung his arms behind your knees and lifted them up, exposing you further to Kaveh's interested eyes. Lips parting, you tried to hold back your moans at the new angle, but Alhaitham's kisses which trailed from your neck to your shoulders did not help.

"Haitham," you moaned out, "Kaveh's watching."

"Let him. I'm sure he's enjoying it, anyway," said the male, as he started moving his hips again and fucking into you.

As he dragged his thick cock around your walls, he let out a few groans and pants, his pace quickening as you whimpered and begged for more. Kaveh sat down on one of the seats, now shamelessly focusing on watching Haitham fuck you.

"More, more, please," you cried out, as his pace became uneven, his cock twitching inside you. "I'm so close."

Your walls tightened around him, as you arched your back, while Alhaitham thrusted deeply into your leaking hole. Your juice coated him nicely, and as he continued to slide his length in and out, you felt warmth coat your walls.

Alhaitham then placed your legs down, before he picked you up to lift you off his cock. The sound of his cock sliding out of your hole aroused you, wanting to bounce on that cock some more. Some of his cum dripped down your thigh, and you were about to look at him to ask for more, but he was already wearing his pants back on. You let out a disappointed sigh, pouting as you looked at him as if wanting more.

"You like being watched, don't you?" Haitham asked, and the blush on your cheeks deepened. "You want me to fuck you more in front of Kaveh? Too bad, you're not getting it. He's getting aroused himself watching that cunt that's only mine."

[uravitypng]

bully tsukishima is just so awful to you, he pulls your hair and pinches your cheeks so hard that you think they might bruise. he feels no remorse for his actions, when he sees your lip wobble as you're trying not to cry he knows he's won. he loves when he pinches you so hard that you squeal in pain, he can never decide what's better feeling your pudgy flesh between his fingers or hearing you squeal, it makes him hungry for more of you, for more of the sounds you make and what sounds you'd make if he bit into your shoulder and sunk his fingers in your cunt. every time you would cry and try to run away but he would seek you out. it would only get worse when he had you completely cornered, when you both were completely alone together.

he saw you walking in the corridor and had to follow you into the bathroom, you were none the wiser. he wanted to see the fear in your eyes, needed it. it resulted in him shutting you both in together, chucking something against the door making it harder to enter, it was still possible though with enough force. that's exactly what you were thinking when you heard the door slam shut and whipping your head around you saw him standing there with a smirk. your only hope was that someone would notice, that someone would come in and see, someone would push hard enough against the door.

backing up against the wall, trying to gain as much distance from him as possible, you try to speak clearing and confident but even you can tell that you sound completely the opposite, your voice quivering, quiet and shaky, "what do you want tsukishima?" he doesn't answer you but laughs in your face, walking closer to you and making you feel trapped. he still doesn't answer you and you're too scared to speak, hoping that he'll leave you alone. he doesn't. he stands so close to you that you can feel his breathing and you know that he'll be able to hear your racing heartbeat.

he pushes his hands against the wall around you, encasing you so you're trapped under his scrutiny. the whole time he's moved closer to you you've kept your head down, hoping he'll leave you alone if he doesn't get a reaction out of you. that changes when he slams his hands down making you jolt at the noise and look up at him, and the look on your face is something tsukishima will never forget, with your arms trembling, eyes red and watery, tiny sniffles coming from you. god it's making him so hard.

before you even know whats happening he's kissing you. he bites your lip and in shock you let out a gasp giving him the time he planned to shove his tongue down your throat. still in shock, you're unable to move and get away from his grasp, you're not responding to his kiss but he knew you wouldn't. moving his arms from their current position he grabs hold of your love handles and kneeds them. he moves one of his hands and snakes it under your skirt and onto your thigh, making you shiver in the process, causing him to kiss you even harder, still not stopping and coming apart to breathe.

everything seems like it's happening all at once to you but also like it's in slow motion, it's very confusing. he reaches up under your skirt, feeling your plush thighs and mentally groans at how fucking good you feel. you finally have a reaction and try to push him away after he slaps your thigh, causing you to whimper and your thigh to sting. you try to wriggle out of his grasp making him snicker at you. he knows his own strength after years of volleyball he knows that if he actually hit you as hard as he could he could seriously hurt you and he doesn't want to cause you a lot pain, that doesn't stop him from spanking pretty hard though. he's wanted to do that for so long, to slap your soft skin. hearing the noise and seeing the ripples, it's even better than he imagined and he imagined it a lot.

finally he speaks, "be good for me, princess. if you're good, i'll be nice. if you cry again i'll be super nice. do you think you can handle that? i'll make you feel really good if you be good." he's so condescending, you hear that loud and clear but it's hard to focus on that as straight after he's said that he makes his way further up your thigh, reaching your pussy and grazing his fingers over your underwear, you're so wet that he can feel it and he's getting more annoyed at the fact he didn't do this sooner.

"fuck, maybe i shouldn't be nice to you, maybe i should be extra mean, i think that's what you really want? can you handle that too?" he smirks, holding onto you tighter and applying more pressure to his fingers, touching you with more purpose than before. you shake your head, you don't want him to be mean, you want to leave. you're trying to ignore how good he feels against your skin, how he's touching you in all the right places, how he'd be so pretty if he didn't talk as much, how his slender fingers are wrapped around your body and his glasses askew, they frame his face really well. you've always hated how hot he was and now how he kissed you like no one else ever had before, you liked it. "no?" he stops all movement, still caging you in but stilling his body, still smirking. he's waiting for your next move.

"no." you try to say loud without quivering like last time but you can't.

he smiles, almost sinister like and you can't help but wonder what's going on his head. he withdraws his fingers from his original position and stops leaning against the wall, giving you room to breathe. you're holding your breath, confused and on edge, waiting.

he goes to pick up his bag and turns around to leave, in the mirror he sees you still standing there, not having moved. "what you doing princess?" you stare blankly. he comes closer to you again, making you confused, this time all you can do is blink up at him, wondering what his game is. "you said no. come back to me when you know it's a yes. see you around, crybaby." he leans downs and softly kisses your cheek, he's never touched you so delicately before. he turns back around and leaves, leaving you there on your own, staring off into space, still feeling his touch all over you.

you just know that tomorrow tsukishima's going to get to class just after you so he can sit down behind you before anyone else gets the chance to, and then he'll spend the day tormenting you.

[saiintvalentiine]

Summary: Wifies runs a small bakery that has some. . . interesting clientele. A snapshot of a typical day at Wifies's bakery and café.

Notes: written quickly in the span of like 5 hours while at work and mostly unedited, here is some fluff as an apology for all the psychological damage I did the other night :') please forgive any SPAG errors, I'll give it a good clean and cross post to AO3 some other time. With cameos from Ken, Parrot, Egg and Wemmbu, and Wato ! divider

Word count: 1,445

The bell over the bakery door jingles merrily, and Wifies steps out of the kitchen with a generic greeting on his tongue before he realizes it's Ken. It's been a while since he’d seen Ken. Today, Ken has a long skirt on, so Wifies can't see if the ankle monitor is still on. He has those, sometimes. Wifies usually finds out because he launches directly into complaining about it.

“Wifies!”

“Hi Ken. Why are you here at 5:30 am?”

Wifies woke up at 3 am. Bakeries are early work after all, but Ken’s schedule is a mystery to him.

“I just got out of work actually!”

Ken leans up against the big display next to the counter, dual colored eyes darting around rapidly across all the cookies and cakes. Wifies can already tell what he's going to get, so he grabs a box and starts puzzling it together.

“Ohhh, I want one of those.”

Ken taps the glass over a tray of meat pastelitos. Made of thin, crunchy layers of pastry and stuffed with minced meat, it's exactly the kind of thing Ken would enjoy. They're only sweet enough to make the savory stand out.

“Of course. How many?”

Ken taps his claws on the glass a few times and says, “Three.”

Wifies snorts and grabs a piece of parchment paper. They're easier to handle with his hands and not tongs. He piles three into the box and shuts it, returning to the counter where Ken is already dropping off some diamonds.

“Just the one,” Wifies says, handing Ken the box.

“Shut up,” Ken says, dropping the rest of the diamonds into the tip jar.

He opens the box and pulls a pastelito out. Wifies's bakery is small, shoved into a corner of the block, so there isn't really anywhere to sit. Ken has never really cared about that kind of thing though. He takes a bite out of the pastry— really he chomps through half of it— and crumbs go flying everywhere. He groans.

“So good,” Ken mutters around his mouthful.

“You're dirtying my counter,” Wifies pulls the towel he keeps in his pocket out and wipes the mess away

“No tables!”

“Shut up.”

Ken finishes his pastry and grabs a wad of napkins out of the dispenser at the far end of the counter, cleaning his face and fingers off.

“Wifies, if you leave this town, I'm killing myself,” Ken says serenely, closing the box back up. “Have a good day.”

“You too, Ken.”

Ken leaves with a skip in his step and a pleased curl to his tail. Today's forecast was rain all day, so Wifies isn't expecting much traffic; it was a pleasant surprise to see Ken at all. He has dough that needs proofing, cupcakes to ice, and bread to bake though, so he returns to the kitchen with low expectations. When the bell rings only 30 minutes later, though, he's surprised again.

“Welcome,” Wifies calls out, wiping his hands on his apron. “How can I help you?”

“Hey.”

Parrot shakes his wings out and waves at Wifies. He's got a nasty cut on his jaw and a bruise over his eyebrow.

“Oh, Parrot,” Wifies sighs, opening the gate to get around the counter and get right into Parrot's space.

“It's not that bad!”

Wifies makes sure his hands are dry before turning Parrot's face to one side and looking at the cut. It's clean, which is a good thing, but it's raw and red still.

“It's not that bad,” Parrot repeats, letting Wifies inspect him regardless. “I won!”

“At least you won,” Wifies sighs again and lets go of Parrot, returning to his spot behind the counter. “Winners still don't get discounts.”

Parrot laughs and checks out the display. He crouches and his profile twists up— he must be hurt under his clothes. Wifies isn't sure why Parrot is always getting into scraps, but he wishes that he'd be less injury prone. Parrot taps on the glass.

“A lemon bar, and a sugar cookie too.”

Wifies packs those up for him.

“Have you gotten your coffee machine fixed yet?” Parrot asks, handing over some diamonds.

“Not yet, sorry.”

“Then what kind of tea should I have with the lemon bar?”

Wifies perks up. Parrot never orders tea.

“Earl grey.”

“Then I’ll take some.”

Wifies can’t help how obvious his pleasure is. He loves tea, but it’s not a popular drink since most people just want coffee. He makes himself a cup of earl grey too, in his own mug instead of a takeout cup.

“Do you want honey?”

“Make it however you like it most.”

Wifies adds honey and a bit of cream, stirring it all up and capping it. He hands Parrot his take out cup and sips at his mug with a pleased sigh. Parrot tries his own.

“That’s really good.”

Wifies grins and says, “I know!”

Parrot leaves with a wave, and Wifies hangs out at the counter for a few minutes with his tea. The sky cracks open with rain as he finishes the last dregs in his mug, and with it comes the tumbling bodies of Egg and Wemmbu.

“Hi there you two,” Wifies says, popping into the kitchen to drop his mug off at the sink before coming back out. “Caught by the rain?”

“It’s awful out there!” Egg complains.

Wemmbu silently wrings his hair out over the welcome mat.

“Do you have any quiches?” Egg asks, bouncing on his heels.

“No more quiches!” Wemmbu complains, but Wifies ignores him as he usually does.

Egg is the one who pays, and Egg is the one who’s nice to him, so Egg gets to have as many quiches as he wants.

“I do. I have spinach cheddar, tomato basil, and artichoke parmesan.”

“Ohhhhh, Wifies, two of each please.”

“Coming right up.”

Wemmbu complains loudly as Wifies packs each quiche pair into their own little boxes. Egg doesn’t give Wemmbu the time of day when it comes to what he orders here; it’s obvious Wemmbu makes enough demands that Egg is over him. Sometimes Wifies wonders what the appeal of sticking around Wemmbu is for someone as pleasant as Egg, but he also knows that the purple jacket Egg is wearing is Wemmbu’s, so maybe he does understand.

“Thank you Wifies,” Egg says, big blue eye somehow conveying joy even in its singularity. “See you!”

“Stay safe out there.”

Wemmbu groans and they dash out into the rain. After them, the day remains misty and quiet. A few more people come in and out, but Wifies spends most of his time in the kitchen, working on some custom orders. Usually, bakeries like his close pretty early— most of his profit is made in the morning, and after 3 pm, foot traffic dies quickly. But he’s waiting for his clockwork patron to arrive before closing for the day. At 5 pm, his door bell jingles, and when he reaches the counter, Wato is already looking through the display with a critical eye.

“Hi Wato,” Wifies opens the gate and goes to the door to flip the sign from open to closed.

“Hey Wifies,” Wato’s green tail sways behind them like a metronome. “Anything new today?”

“I do!”

Wato perks up, a puff of bedrock dust floating up from their clothes at the sudden movement. Bedrock has a strange, distinct smell, in that it clears other smells out in its wake. It smells like fog, or void, or absence. Wifies shivers at the way that not-smell fills the air so familiarly, wipes away the sweetness of sugar and warmth of bread that he’s been basking in all day.

Wato sneezes.

“Bless you.”

“Thanks. What did you make?”

“Please hold.”

He’s been storing it in wait for Wato. Once it’s warmed through, he brings it to the counter, held out like a cake.

“A breakfast pot pie. It’s made with sausage, cheese, bacon, potatoes, cream, and a poached egg baked into the top of the pie crust.”

Wato’s tail starts wagging like crazy. It kicks up more bedrock dust, but nothing can take away how proud Wifies is right now. He grabs a plastic fork and hands it off to Wato. Wato wordlessly digs in. Wifies doesn’t usually like staring people down when they eat, finds it weird and invasive, but Wato wears their joy on their face, and right now they look absolutely delighted.

“Wifies, marry me,” Wato says, turning their big green eyes onto Wifies. Wifies laughs loudly. “Stop laughing, marry me now, I can’t love another day without this.”

“You won’t have to,” Wifies assures. “I’m gonna be here for a long, long time.”

[venusswhite]

A Thousand Years | Arcane Vi x Fem Leitora (Part. 3)

After losing everything, [Name] tries to rebuild her life. But what happens when a ghost with pink hair returns? notes: English is not my first language, and I initially wrote this fanfic in Portuguese. With the help of online resources, I rewrote it in English

Part. 2 Part. 4

“But if you call for me, you know I’ll run, I’ll run to you.” - Lana Del Rey

“[Name]! Get under this shower,” Sevika says, pushing my head under the freezing water.

“No! Let go of me!” I yell, sluggish and still drunk from all the alcohol I consumed.

I struggle to escape the icy water, but Sevika holds me firmly in place. After a while, I grow tired and stop resisting.

I just sit on the floor, letting the water cascade over me.

That cold water was actually calming me down. It cooled my once hot, sweaty skin.

My thoughts began to wander. Why was I like this?

I was at the bar drinking because of… Vi.

“Damn it!” I yell, pulling at my hair. “Why the hell can’t I forget her?”

I feel the water stop and a towel land on my wet hair.

“Dry yourself off. I’ll grab you some water,” Sevika says, leaving me sitting on the floor.

I stand up, remove my soaked clothes, wrap the towel around myself, and head to my room.

“Sevika told me what happened,” Jinx says, sitting on my bed with her knees to her chest.

I sigh, thinking about how hard this must be for her.

“I thought I saw her…” I whisper, embarrassed.

“[Name], Vi is dead!” she says, visibly agitated.

I feel tears welling up in my eyes.

“I know,” I mutter, heading toward the chest where I keep my clothes.

“You’re more insane than I am,” she sighs, lying back on the bed. “I don’t imagine anyone who’s dead… well, only sometimes. But I can separate reality from imagination.”

“Of course you can, Jinx,” I say sarcastically.

I get dressed and lie down beside her.

“We don’t need her,” she says angrily, sitting up. “We have each other.”

“Maybe you’re right,” I say, sitting up as well. “It’s just that…”

“You loved her,” she interrupts.

“Yeah. I did…”

“Once, I talked to Vander about you two…”

“About us?”

“I was afraid that if you two got together, you’d abandon me,” she says, lowering her head.

“We would never do that, Jinx. I would never do that. That’s why I’m here.”

“I know… I know I never said it, but thank you… for not leaving me,” she says, her eyes brimming with tears.

“You’ll always be my little sister,” I say, throwing myself on top of her, hugging her tightly. Slowly, she hugs me back.

“Here’s your water,” Sevika suddenly appears, startling us.

“Get off me!” Jinx shoves me, trying to hide her vulnerability from Sevika.

I laugh at Jinx and stand up.

“Thanks!” I say, grabbing the water and placing it on a nearby table.

“You’re losing your mind, [Name],” Silco’s voice is full of disapproval.

I sigh, spinning around in his chair.

“It won’t happen again,” I stop, facing away from the desk.

“I hope not. You can’t fall apart every time you see someone who reminds you of her,” he says, moving closer.

“I know. It’s just… it felt so real,” I say, closing my eyes. “I think because I never saw her body, my mind clings to the hope that she’s alive.”

“You need to accept that she’s gone,” he says, appearing in my line of sight. “This isn’t good for you, and it’s certainly not good for Jinx. You know she feels guilty about their deaths.”

“I know,” I whisper.

“Her sister is back!” Sevika bursts into the room, excited, her robotic arm leaking purple liquid. I turn the chair to face her, and she freezes when she sees me.

“Whose sister?” I ask hesitantly.

“No one’s,” Silco quickly dismisses, stepping away from the chair and giving Sevika a stern look.

Sevika’s breathing quickens, her gaze fixed on me.

“Sevika…” I plead.

“You don’t know her,” she finally looks away.

“Of course not,” I say, getting up from the chair and storming toward the door.

Just as I reach for the handle, I feel a sharp sting in my neck.

“What the hell…” I manage to say before my legs give out and my vision goes dark. My body collapses against Sevika before everything fades to black.

I wake up startled in my room, drenched in sweat, my throat dry. I drag myself to the bedside table where Sevika had left the water and drink it all in one gulp.

Setting the glass down, I notice a photo. The same one I found in Vander’s bar on the day of the accident.

I close my eyes and take a deep breath, feeling my head throb. With effort, I get up and head to Silco’s office.

“Silco!” I burst through the door.

But I only find Sevika tied up on the floor, her body and clothes marked with symbols and the word “LIAR” written in pink and blue.

Jinx…

I run through the streets of Zaun, trying to find her.

She knew something. She found out something. I had an idea of what it was, but I didn’t want to give myself false hope.

Could there be a chance she’s alive? I never saw the body, but Jinx swore she did. She guaranteed her sister was dead.

What the hell are they hiding from me?

Out of breath, I stop in an alley. Then I hear a child speaking to the woman holding her hand.

“Mommy, what’s that?” I see the child pointing to the top of a building where a large blue cloud hovers.

What the hell are you doing, Jinx?

I run toward the building as if my life depends on it.

Reaching the top, I see her holding a flare aloft.

“Jinx, what are you doing?” I whisper, sobbing as I approach.

“Liar!” she yells, throwing the flare to the ground.

“Please, Jinx,” I say, moving closer. “Tell me the truth!” She then turns to me, running into my arms and burying her face in my neck.

“We don’t need her,” I hear her muffled voice say.

My mind is in chaos.

“Her who?” I ask, terrified of the answer.

“Powder?” My body freezes. Jinx lifts her head, her body trembling. She stares at the person behind us for a moment before pulling away.

I stay where I am, my back to the voice.

“I swear I tried to come back to you, but they kept me locked up,” I hear that same voice from my delusions.

This isn’t real. It can’t be real.

She’s dead.

I close my eyes, waiting for Vi’s voice to fade away.

“Marcus?” Jinx asks.

“It doesn’t matter. What matters is that I’m back. I thought I’d never see you again.”

“Vi…” I hear Jinx say, then footsteps approaching.

Jinx steps in front of me.

“[Name]…” I look into her tear-filled eyes.

In that moment, a flood of emotions washes over me: fear, insecurity, anger.

I felt betrayed. Betrayed by everyone I trusted.

“[Name]?” the voice calls.

No. Please, no. This isn’t real.

Then she steps in front of me, beside Jinx.

The face that has haunted me for years, but now it’s different. Her once youthful face is now longer and more mature. Her eyes are still grayish-blue, with faint freckles beneath them. A scar crosses her lips, and “VI” is tattooed on her cheek.

Despite all the changes, she’s still Vi.

My Vi.

I dreamed of this moment every day.

So why don’t I feel happy? The burning sting of betrayal consumes me.

I trusted them. I trusted her.

I look at Jinx, whose expression is filled with regret and sorrow.

“You lied…” I say to Jinx. “You lied to me. After everything!”

I take steps back, distancing myself from the sisters.

“I just wanted to protect you,” Jinx says, moving closer.

“Protect me? By lying to me?”

“I thought she had abandoned us,” she cries. “So I thought hiding it would keep you from suffering, thinking she left us. Forgive me, [Name], please,” she begs.

“[Name],” Vi speaks now. “Powder did what she thought was best. I’m glad you two looked out for each other.”

But I couldn’t hear anything over my own pain.

“I need to be alone,” I say, turning around only to face another woman. Her clean clothes and hair screamed that she wasn’t from here.

“Is Jinx your sister?” she asks.

“Who is she?” Jinx and I say simultaneously.

“This is Caitlyn, a friend. She got me out of prison,” Vi explains, standing beside Caitlyn.

“So it’s true,” I turn to Jinx in confusion as she aims her weapon at the woman. “Sevika didn’t lie? You’re working with an enforcer?”

“What?” I look at the pink-haired girl in disbelief, joining Jinx and pointing my own weapon at the enforcer.

“It’s not what you think…” Vi tries to keep things calm.

“This is an ambush. They came to kill us,” Jinx says, agitated, her eyes burning with paranoia.“Shut up!”

“We didn’t say anything,” the enforcer replies.

“I’m not talking to you!” Jinx retorts.

“Powpow, it’s okay,” Vi tries to calm her sister.

Bad idea.

“Don’t call me that. My name is Jinx now.”

“No. You’re not a Jinx.”

“I’ve changed, sister. We’ve changed,” her gaze shifts to me.

“I know. We’ve all changed,” she moves closer. “But it’s okay now. I’m back for both of you. Let’s start over… together. Just the three of us.”

“Shut up! I need to think,” Jinx pulls away, her eyes closed.

“Jinx…” I try to get her attention before she does something reckless.

“Did you hear that?” she suddenly points her weapon upwards.

Then I see the Firelights approaching, flying around us.

“Wait! Don’t shoot!” I shout, stepping forward.

But it’s too late.

Jinx fires wildly, while Vi fights them off.

I crouch down and notice the enforcer looking at something on the ground. Following her gaze, I see a blue sphere Jinx uses in her bombs and weapons.

I rush forward, grabbing the sphere before she can and shoving it into my pocket.

“Not today, enforcer,” I smirk defiantly.

I didn’t like her.

“You don’t understand!” she yells.

“I don’t understand? You’re the one who doesn’t understand,” I kick her backward.

Then I run, jumping off the building and being caught by one of the Firelights.

“It’s Vi. She’s not dead,” I shout amidst the chaos.

“What?” he speaks, his voice distorted by some device.

But I didn’t have time to explain. I grab a bomb from his belt and jump back onto the building.

I see one of the Firelights pointing a stake at Vi, who’s lying on the ground. I rush to stop him:

“I’ll take care of her.”

Then I throw the smoke bomb to the ground, shrouding everything in black mist.

“Don’t worry, Vi,” I whisper in her ear and inject a syringe into her neck. She looks at me, surprised, before her body goes limp. I hold her and signal to the Firelight. “Take her to safety.”

He takes her, and as the mist begins to clear, it’s just me and Jinx left in the building.

[artydonsgf]

All three of their reactions to finding out your ready to sleep with them for the first time🤭🤭

ouu anon i like the way you think🫶🏾 thank you for your request, enjoy!!

Art Donaldson

- he’s been ready but hearing that you’re ready makes him all nervous

- you’ve made out, you’ve given him blowjobs, and he’s touched you under the clothes but there’s never been actual sex

- he’s a mess

- needs to go buy condoms but he’s all nervous n he’s blanking a bit

- remembers that he did buy condoms but shoved them deep in the back of his closet because he felt ashamed that he was jumping the gun

- after he digs it out, his hands are shaking from both desire and nerves

- your first time is very sweet

- he’s not rough at all, he asks you how you’re feeling, if he’s hurting you, if you like what he’s doing

- basically has you set the entire pace, even if he’s losing it because he just wants to do more

- he’s so hesitant to do anything, he doesn’t want to kill your attraction to him or something

- as if that’s possible

- it gets a tiny bit frustrating because it’s not like you know how to make him feel good, you need him to show you

- once he starts to get more comfortable, his restraint starts to disappear

- he’s vocal about how good you make him feel, he’s guiding you to do what he likes, etc

- the night ends with art passed tf out (bro could not handle it) and you knocked out with him (you also could not handle it)

Tashi Duncan

- SHE CHEERED!

- she didn’t want to pressure you or anything so she’s let you set the pace of your relationship

- the touching and kissing here n there that’s never progressed has made her desperate for more

- when you tell her you’re ready to go all the way she’s cheesing

- again, she wants you to set the pace

- first time is very gentle

- she tells you what to do (who said dom tashi!) but it’s all very soft

- think, move like this, let me hear you, don’t close your eyes

- your pleasure is her priority, your first time is basically you get pampered and loved on the whole time

- when you try to reciprocate, shes quick to come, she’s been desperate for your touch the entire time

- she shows you exactly how she likes to be touched so you don’t need to guess anything

- her end goal is to make you feel good and to make it easy for you to make her feel good

- the night ends with you cuddled up in fresh sheets, with freshly washed hair, and feeling extremely content

Patrick Zweig

- HE ALSO CHEERED!

- except literally

- bro is so excited, the making out made him want you more

- he’s had to resort to jerking off because he’d rather die than ask you to do something you might be uncomfy with

- he already had everything ready, he was just waiting for you to feel ready

- he opens the bottom drawer and boom, condoms n lube stocked up

- your first round is short, someone (patrick) was a little excited

- you end up going at it for a few hours

- it gets more enjoyable as you go but patrick also gets more desperate as you go

- his hungry kisses turn sloppy, his steady rhythm turns desperate, he can’t form words

- bro genuinely is a mess with you, all of his pent up sexual tension is coming out at once and he’s barely handling it

- he knows what he’s doing so you don’t feel like you’re trying to figure him out

- he’s guiding you to do what makes him feel good

- you don’t need to guide him or anything because he’s doing everything at the same time

- literally makes you feel crazy, it can’t be normal to feel everything this deeply

- the night ends with you cuddling in bed with a show on

- except neither of you are really paying attention because you keep making out

the way you can tell who i was most excited to write forjshehd, i love you patrick zweig

[moonstruckme]

In a Week - send a character + au and I'll write a blurb for it (like vampire!Eddie, bodyguard!Sirius, etc.)

I'm not picky, can it be a jealous!fic with either poly!marauders or sirius or hell even peter parker????

Lol I’m not sure this really counts as an au but sure! I imagine Sirius Black and his Slytherin babe aren’t exclusive just yet, so I decided to use your request as an excuse to write him being a bit upset about that, thanks honey!

join the party

Sirius Black x Slytherin!reader ♡ 950 words

Sirius doesn’t know why he’d talked his friends into coming to this stupid party in the first place. James is bickering with half of the Slytherin quidditch team, Remus is just emanating annoyance, and Sirius is watching you over the rim of his cup as you endeavor to swab the back of some seventh-year’s throat with your tongue. 

He’d come to see you, obviously, but you don’t even know he’s here, turned away from him where you’ve backed the Slytherin boy up against the wall. Sirius knows it’s a bad idea, but he doesn’t try to halt the natural course of his thoughts; he wonders if this bloke is biting your bottom lip the way you like, if he knows to kiss that place under your jaw that turns you to putty, if he appreciates how silky the hair he’s got his fingers tangled in is, how much work you put into making it that soft. Sirius knows too well what the fucker is feeling right now. How demanding you can be when you want something, fingernails digging into the soft skin of his shoulders, the way you tilt your chin to kiss up at him. He hopes this guy knows how good he’s got it, and he also hopes you’re not actually doing any of the things you do with Sirius. 

The seventh-year grabs a handful of your ass, and that’s it. 

Sirius stalks across the room, pretending to be headed for the punch table before stumbling and tossing his drink down the boy’s pants. 

“Whoops,” he says, not bothering to add much inflection to his voice as the boy looks at him in outrage. “Sorry, mate.” 

“Sirius.” Your eyebrows come together, lips swollen and eyes somewhat glazed. The sight makes Sirius’ blood thrum on instinct and memory, but he ignores it. “What’re you—”

“What the fuck, Black?” The Slytherin shoves him, and Sirius has to bite back a giggle—a giggle, how sadistic would that look—itching for a fight. “You and your friends are crashing Slytherin parties now just to pick fights?”

He thinks he sees a whoosh of red in his periphery, and wonders if it’s James or Remus that’ll be coming to his rescue, but then you’re stepping in front of him, so close that lovely hair is tickling his nose. 

“Rhodes,” you say sharply, and Sirius doesn’t blame Rhodes for freezing. He would too, if you used that tone on him. “Go get cleaned up. I’ll handle this.” 

Rhodes curls his lip at Sirius as he goes towards the dorms, but Sirius isn’t easily intimidated by people who run away. Then you whirl on him, and he sort of gets it. 

“What the hell was that?” you ask, grabbing him by the sleeve and dragging him into a corner so you’re less of a spectacle. “What are you even doing here?”

“Thought I’d stop by and see what all the hype was about.” Sirius leans back against the wall, crossing his arms and looking about the room. “Have to say, I’m not particularly impressed. The PDA at Gryffindor parties is at least usually tasteful.” 

You scoff at him, cocking an eyebrow. “You wish we were having PDA at Gryffindor parties, Black.” Apparently Sirius doesn’t respond quickly enough, or more likely something in his expression betrays him, because in the next second your own face sobers. “We never said we were exclusive.” 

“I know that,” he says automatically, though in truth he’d never thought of it. Your relationship had been mostly casual thus far, but what needs could you have that Sirius wasn’t meeting? What could you want from other guys? “I just didn’t expect to be assaulted with the sight of it on a Thursday night.” 

You sigh as though Sirius is a difficult child you have to appease. “Well, when you come to my house’s party without letting me know in advance, I can’t exactly prepare to accommodate what you do or don’t want to see.” 

It’s all Sirius can do to keep his insouciant facade intact when you talk like that, as if he’s only one in your lineup of men, and the most demanding one at that. “Oh?” he asks, flicking up a brow. “And would you not have been snogging what’s-his-name if I’d given you notice that I’d be here?”

You look at him evenly. “If I’d known you would be here, I wouldn’t have had to find someone else to snog.” 

“Oh.” Oh. “Well, I’m here now.” Not his best line, admittedly, but Sirius feels like he has whiplash, going from fighting to flirting in half a second. You had been fighting, hadn’t you? 

You actually smile at him, biting your bottom lip as if to contain it. “You are.” 

“And apparently there’s some sort of Slytherin distasteful PDA tradition to keep up, isn’t there?”

You shrug. “Depends on who you ask, I suppose.” 

“Well.” Sirius presses his hand to the small of your back, getting in your space. “I think we ought to take up the mantle, gorgeous.” 

You cast your eyes about the room as if nervous who will see, and Sirius stops, pulling back a bit to give you a sober look. 

“Unless you want to go somewhere else?” he asks, doing his best to let you know that it’s okay if that’s what you do want. 

You gnaw on your lip for a second, then shake your head, your eyes hardening decisively. “No,” you say, placing a hand on either side of his face. “Best not mess with tradition, right?”

Sirius nods so ardently you have to hold him still to kiss him, feigning exasperation, but he can feel your smile as it lines up with his.