#honestly I might actually write up a shirt one shot

[written-mishaps]

In the spirit of halloween I’ve thought up an Au I like to affectionately call ‘The worlds worst Vampire’ Au,

This ended up being a bit of a thought dump so I’m putting it under a read more lmao

Steve Harrington is indeed  a vampire.

Except he has managed to dodge almost every single vampire stereotype while simultaneously only managing to acquire the dumbest parts of vampire folklore. (A few examples, he cant use a mirror and has to use the reflection in his pool to style his hair, he once got stuck outside of Dustins house for an hour because he didnt explicitly welcome him into his house, eating garlic makes him violently throw up and break out into hives, he gets sunburn ridiculously easily, he also cannot walk over streams and rivers, any food that isnt meat has the same effect as milk to a lactose intolerant person. He has near chronic tummy aches because if this lmaooo)

He gets all these negative side effects and the only bonuses are: ever so slight strength (no, he cannot bend metal, but he can rip a demobat in half), can kinda see in the dark, and he can turn into bat(that being said, turning back into a human is a whole other ballpark. The first part is easy, the second is not) As you can imagine, the guy is really not too fussed about the whole Vampirism thing in general and treats it more like a nuisance than anything special

Enter Eddie ‘definitely had a vampire phase as a kid’ Munson who’s frankly appalled at how un-vampire-like Steve is and you have the perfect storm of someone determined and crazy enough to try and teach a vampire how to actually be a vampire.

Shenanigans ensue.

[planetwaynez]

bad ideia right?

Jason x Roy x Fem!Reader

Notes: I've been cooking this JayRoy x Fem!Reader for some time now, the only thing is... I got excited and ended up writing waaaay too much so this will be separeted in two parts. This is part one, if you guys like it lemme know if you want part two, pls!!!

PART 2!!!!

WARNINGS: Talks about stalking, nearly death experince, violence, murderer, being socialy secluded, a lot of complicated feelings. This is part 1!

Words: 4,7k

Synopsis: It never crossed Roy's mind that his cute civilian ex would be knocking at his apartmant door asking for help. Jason never tought that he would've to help his boyfriend with his ex, but he is, especially because she might die if they don't help her out.

Things are not so great at the moment. And she knows it, that's why she stands in front of her ex boyfriend's apartment door, picking at her nails and looking everywhere but the door. She knows she shouldn't be looking for him, but in the situation that she finds herself, Roy may be the only person that can help her out. Rationality, she knows it's no biggie, showing up and asking for her ex boyfriend, who is a very known vigilante, to save her skin. However, emotionally, she knows it's fucked up. 

Taking a deep breath, she knows it's a bad idea, but she reaches for the door and knocks. Taking a step back, y/n can feel her muscles starting to shake in a nervous fit.

It's been two years since she saw Roy for the last time, and she wonders how much has changed since then. 

The door is open and y/n looks up, to find a tall brunette looking at her with an arched eyebrow. She smiles, trying to be polite. He doesn't smile back.

“Hi! Is this Roy Harper's apartment?” She asks, still picking at her nails and the man in front of her notices.

“Yes” he answers, his voice deep and intimidating and for the first time she knows for a fact that this is more than a bad idea, it's a terrible one. But then again, it's better than dying. 

“Is he home?” The man crosses his big arms over his chest, taking in a more intimidating stance than before.

“Yes” 

He is not the most polite ever, and it's starting to make y/n panic turn into frustration very quickly. 

“Can I talk to him?” the man clicks his tongue, obviously not liking her request. Well, what can she do, a girl needs to try her shot.

“Who is at the door, love?” a familiar voice asks and now she understands. The huge guy in front of her is acting up in a jealous fit. Does he know who she is? Probably. 

“Your ex” he says, and yeah, he knows who she is. 

They can hear steps coming in the direction of the door and a very confused Roy shows up, wearing only a pair of gray sweatpants and his hair is longer, long enough to be put up in a man bun. Cute.

“Y/n?” He is pale and it seems like he just saw a ghost in front of him. She smiles and gives a tiny wave, not knowing how to act. When she decided to ask Roy for help, she knew that there was the chance for this to happen. A chance to find out about his new partner, a chance that he would look terrified, a chance that he would say no and let her die. Simple stuff.

“Hi, Roy” things are awkward, the three of them looking at each other like idiots.

“What are you doing here?” Roy seems offended that she ever had the guts to show up like this and honestly, she understands him and would deal with this situation in a more aggressive way if it was her in his place. 

“I need your help” she can feel her cheeks burning and her heart rate increase, she feels the sting of a broken nail and her palms are sweating. 

“With what?” Who asks the question is the brunette man, and y/n finally looks at him. He is wearing the same attire as Roy, paired up with a long sleeve black compression shirt, and she realizes how big he actually is. If he wanted to, he could throw her through the stairs of the building with ease. He is scary. 

Instead of actually answering the brunette, she started rambling all of her thoughts to them, feeling her chest tight. 

“I know you told me not to go, I know you said my brain would put me in danger one day and that my smart mouth would kill me and honestly I never believed you, but I fucked up. I fucked up real bad, Roy.” Desperation seeps through her voice, making her look ridiculous but the amount of panic in the woman in front of Roy only sparks his worry. 

“What the fuck did you do?” He asks, taking her wrist and pulling her inside the apartment, practically throwing her in their living room.

“I stumbled across files I should have not stumbled across.” Roy Harper is not a man to worry, unless it's his daughter, Jason or Dinah. Or Y/n.

She was always one to worry about. Always too smart for her own good, always too clever to her own safety, always too curious. She found out way too easily his identity as Arsenal when they were dating. He knew that one day she would have a price over her head.

“What does that mean, y/n?” He is basically yelling at her now, frustrated that she doesn't give him the information he needs. She pouts, hating the fact that Roy is yelling at her.

“It means you were right, ok? I am too curious for my own good and now some rich people want me dead.” 

Fuck it.

Jason didn't see this one coming, not even a thousand miles away. When he woke up this morning, sore from their last mission, he wouldn't have guessed that Roy's most recent ex and only civilian ex, would show up at their doorstep asking for Roy to save her skin from rich people. 

Jason sighs, drawing the attention to him. He closes his eyes, hoping this is some weird dream, but when he opens them again, two pairs of eyes are staring at him. He thanks the gods that Lian is with Alfred. 

“And how could Roy help you?” Jason asks, wondering what is going through this stranger woman's head. 

“As Arsenal, obviously” she says, as if Jason is one dumb fucker, and he can't believe that this is happening. 

“She knows?” Roy shrugs, as if saying ‘I have no control over that’. 

“She found out when we were three months into the relationship” Jason looks at her again, shocked with this new piece of information. He knew they dated for over a year, and also knew how heartbroken Roy was when she left to live in Ireland because of a job opportunity. He didn't know she knew about Arsenal, though. 

“It was actually quite easy to figure it out” she says, her eyes roaming over him, not in a ‘I am attracted to you’ way but in ‘who are you?’ type of way, and that made an uneasy feeling set in Jason's stomach.

“How?” He needs to know how she found out, how her brain works. Jason knows a lot of people, for fucks sake, he knows Tim and Tim found out Robin's identity at the age of nine, not many things shook him, but it's eight in the morning and this woman is definitely weird. 

“I noticed they have the same scar on the left arm” 

Jason's eyes bulge just a little and he looks at his boyfriend, who is looking at the floor, probably embarrassed with how easily a civilian found out his identity. 

“I know” the read head says, clicking his tongue “she is a freak with that brain of hers” 

It's y/n's turn to sigh, rolling her eyes. She looks at Jason again and says, very calmly.

“I knew I could say Roy is Arsenal near you because I firmly believe you already knew. Not because he told you, but because you are like him” the nervous and anxious girl from before is gone and she looks more confident and comfortable, and that uneasy feeling of having someone with a bigger brain than yours in the room comes back to Jason's stomach. 

“And why's that?” Roy chuckles, and Jason looks at him with a quizzical look but the redhead says nothing, just smiles.

“You keep analyzing me, noticing every single move I make. For a guy your size you are very quiet and silent” she point out, numbering everything she says in her manicured fingers “Also, you keep reaching for your thigh, as if you keep looking for a gun in a holster” Y/n points to his hand, resting in his left thigh, and he wants to curse himself. 

“I will make an educated guess and say you are Red Hood, the guy that is always with Arsenal” She says and smiles, tilting her head to the side, exposing her neck that has a hand imprint on it. “You are him, aren't you?” 

Jason nods, not verbally answering her, but he knows there is no use lying since she knows about Roy's identity. What actually sparks his interest is the marks in her neck. She notices him looking and she once again hides her skin from them. Jason looks at Roy, to see if he saw the same as him, and his boyfriend's gaze is focused on y/n neck as well. There is more to this story than she is truly telling, and they know.

“She found out about Dinah in forty minutes in the same room as her.” Roy says, instead of saying something about the purple marks, walking to the kitchen to get a water bottle for himself. 

Jason looks at her, doing exactly what she said he was doing before, but now he takes his time. Analyzing her. Meanwhile, she keeps an eye on Roy, who is not caring at all about the exchange behind him.

Roy turns around, holding his water bottle and looks at the two of them. He drinks all the water with a few gulps, feeling the cold water calm him down to the conversation he will soon have. He really wants to know who is the fucker that tried to choke her to death and left those marks on her smooth skin.

“Come with me” he says, pointing at a very shocked Jason and a very smug y/n to follow him. 

The three of them get in a room decorated to be a study, Roy sits on a couch in the corner of the room and Jason sits next to him, his big arm going around Roy's shoulders.

“Explain yourself, pookie” Roy says and y/n takes a deep breath, collecting her thoughts to start explaining herself to the two vigilantes in front of her.

“It all started a few months ago when Campbell Enterprises, the place I worked at, developed a new project. One that was secretive and only a few would participate, the HR did a whole campaign to encourage us to participate in the selective process to choose the ones that would be a part of this new project. I was hoping I was not chosen, honestly, I was fine with the workload I already had at my lab at the time, but it was mandatory to participate” she pauses, taking a deep breath and looking at the window, watching the sun come through. 

“They chose me and a few others to be a part of it, but it was all too secretive, even for us that were working on it. It was tiring, since my regular workload kept coming” she clicks her tongue and blinks, as if she was transported back to the moment that she is telling them about. “One night I stayed later than usual, it was just me in the laboratory, I was tired and annoyed with a few things so I started digging around, just so see if I could see the development of the others that I worked with.”

She blinks again, swallowing tears and looks at them. Roy and Jason are looking at her very attentively, waiting patiently for her to continue. There is no pressure, no tension in the room, just two men looking at her as if she was made of glass and that, for some reason, soothed the pain inside. Y/N is too used to not allowing herself to be fragile, but right now, with Jason and Roy, she feels that she can allow herself to be a little bit vulnerable. 

“That's how I ended up coming across the real motivation of the project. They told us that we were developing a new medicine for kids with cancer, when in fact, we were developing a new drug so they could kidnap children and teenagers with more ease.” There is silence in the room and inevitably, they all thought about Lian, that is safely with Alfred, but she could not be, like many others are not. 

“And they found out you came across those files and that's how you got five fingers in your neck?” Roy asks, arms crossed and a frown between his eyebrows, looking irritated. 

“Not exactly” she says, her right hand going instinctively to her neck, gulping just to remember the touch of that man on her skin. “They found out I knew, but they didn't make it obvious. I knew they would find out eventually and come after me, but until then I thought I could keep living my life.”

Silence reigns the room, the three of them knowing she was just living an illusion until reality came knocking on her door.

“I went out on a date” she says, and that sparks even more their interest. Jason scoffs, not believing what he just heard.

“You knew you had a target on your back and you went on a date?” He asks sarcasm in every word that he says. She nods and Roy looks at her with disbelief in his green eyes.

“I was needy” she simply states, shrugging as if it was not a big of a deal, except it was. “He was a hitman” 

Jason and Roy look at each other, not knowing how to actually react to her words. It all seems so out of this world, especially with the way she tells things, so calmly.

“We were kissing, he grabbed my neck and said that I was too curious, he had a good grip but I had a pocket knife” she is smiling and Jason knows for a fact now that she is crazy.

“So you stabbed him” Roy says, a smirk forming in the corner of his red lips. She nods.

“Didn't kill though, just enough to run away” she looks again at the window and takes a deep breath, “that's how I ended up in an airplane to Gotham. I called Dinah and asked where you lived, she told me you moved to Gotham, gave me your address and that's how I ended up here.”

She looks at them again and they can see in her eyes that she is lost. Desperate. In panic and disbelief of herself. What Jason can't see but Roy can is that Y/n truly believes she is going to die if they don't help her out.

Roy is not happy to have his ex, who broke his heart even if their break up was mutual and mature, standing in front of him. Roy is not happy that Dinah just gave information on him so easily. But he is less happy with the idea of y/n dying. No, he gets angry just with the idea of her not existing anymore. 

And Jason may not know y/n, but he knows his boyfriend. He knows Roy just as well he knows himself and Jason can see it in the redhead's eyes that they will help her out, even if it fails, they will try their best. Jason can also see the care and admiration in Roy's eyes every time he looks at her, it's the same way Roy looks at him. 

Jason will have to swallow his pride and jealousy, because he is going to help his boyfriend's ex to not die.

“We will help you” Roy says, looking at Jason for support and he finds everything he needs in his lover's eyes.

“But with a few conditions” Jason says, now looking at the younger woman. He knows she is younger than them, but now she truly looks like it. The sun is bathing her from her side, making her eyes shine and seem bigger, her lips are painted a glossy red and her cheekbones are chubby and pink. He can't deny, she is adorable and pretty.

“Anything” she says, her lips quivering just slightly. Jason smirks, he knows he is an asshole, but he also gets the job done.

“You will be staying at one of your monitored safe houses, and you won't leave the house, unless one of us is with you.” Roy nods, his gaze focused on her. The redhead forgot how beautiful she looks with her hair down and a turtleneck and he can't stop staring at her now that he noticed. 

“We will make the groceries for you, just give a list. Also only burner phones and not social media” Roy says, and y/n was expecting nothing less than that. She is asking for them to keep her alive and she knows they will do it, even if it means keeping her away from society for a while. 

“And we need all the information that you have” Jason finishes, reclining himself against the couch, relaxing his muscles. 

Y/n stares. She was always curious and when she thinks something - or someone - is pretty, she stares. She didn't look at Jason until she did, and now that she sees what Roy sees, she can't stop looking. 

They are both attractive men, she can't decide which she will take a look at longer, her brain working faster than normal to keep up with everything that she is thinking, from the information that they need to Jason's muscles and Roy's pretty lips.

She knows it's going to be a long ride with those two around her.

4 MONTHS LATER

It  was comfortable to stay hidden from society while Roy and Jason were dealing with the issue she put herself in. It is comfortable to stay in and watch movies, read books and cook whatever she feels like cooking. It is comfortable not having to go out to do her own grocery shopping, since Jason did that for her in the last four months, and he never forgot anything from the list. It is comfortable to have them around all the time, it is comfortable to have Lian over on the weekends to play with dolls and paint ceramics with her.

However she knows it's not going to last any longer. Actually, all this comfortable scenario is over as she stares at Roy and listens to him talk.

“It’s all over, we fixed everything up, you can go back to living your life, pookie” he says, his green eyes shining with something she can’t quite comprehend, but she knows the feeling that is attached to her chest. He is sitting in a chair in front of her, only a table stopping Y/N to reach out and hug him until her heart stops growing with pain.

She got comfortable, she created an illusion for herself once again. They were there almost everyday, talking, making jokes and eating homemade food made by her, she even got to befriend Jason in the first month, just to develop feelings for him in the third. In the second month she already knew she still loved Roy with her whole soul, and seeing him so dedicated to see her safe again only intensified that. 

She can’t explain, really, how she feels. She just knows its different but she loves them both. Roy is like a ray of sunshine that comes through the window, always warm and welcoming, always making her feel important and cared about. He was always good at making her feel like she is the only girl in the world, like she is actually important and easy to love. It's hard to let those feelings for him go, since she can’t get enough of his smile, his green eyes and his stupid jokes. She thinks that deep down, she never stopped loving him. It was like coming home from a long trip, the feeling of having Roy around again was that. His hugs became frequent again and she thinks she can’t let him go, the warmth and the intimacy are just too good and keeps her sane in the difficult days. 

Jason was a surprise. Y/N never thought it was possible to love two people at the same time and in the same intensity, but so differently from each other. At first, she thought she was going crazy with guilt because she still loves Roy, and Jason is his boyfriend. But then, slowly, she realized she fell for him just as hard as she had fallen for Roy. Jason is attentive, caring and even though he is more introverted, he understands her on a deep level. He knows when she is upset before she even acknowledges herself, he always has a good book recommendation and he always helped her in the kitchen when he could.  Lian loves him and he is good with kids just as much as Roy is. He is calm and collected and somehow, he soothes her mind. 

She loves them.

But she is sure they don’t love her back.

“Really?” she questions it, not believing that she can once again live in society without risking herself. 

“Yes” Jason says, he is behind Roy, his arms crossed and he doesn't look at her for longer than what's enough.

“Everything is clean, then?” She questions it once again, fear creeping inside her head, telling that they couldn’t do anything and that she will die if she leaves their embrace.

“Yes, pookie, everything is clean” Y/N nods, pressing her lips together and looking away from them, not knowing how to actually feel. She is happy that she is once again safe, that she can walk around without risking being murdered, that she can talk longer to her parents. But she can feel that pain in her chest, the one telling her this is the last time she will ever talk to them, see them and feel their presence. She is free to go anywhere, but the only place that she wants is not available for her. 

While she sits in sorrow, she doesn’t realize that both men are devastated as well as she is. Roy knew it was possible to love two people at the same time, to want to be romantically with two people at the same time, but it never crossed his mind that he would be living this feeling so intensely. He loves Jason with his soul, he would die for his boyfriend and kill just anyone Jason asked him to kill. But he can’t deny that he also loves Y/N, she is everything he could possibly want and not deserving to have. Her smile, her scent, her eyes, her lips, her body, her hair, everything in her was an invitation to his heart. Roy loves her with his heart, he would do anything for her too, he just did. He killed for her last night just to be sure she would be fine. He doesn’t want to let go, but if that's what she wants, he will do it. 

Jason was always skeptical about feelings until he fell for Roy, and he fell hard. He loves Roy more than he could ever be possible, he would take Roy in his worst days just as much as he would take Roy in his good days, and he would go against the world to see his boyfriend happy and calm. Jason stopped drug dealing because he thought it was disrespectful with Roy since he is clean and healthy after a long period of darkness. He takes care of all the things Roy doesn’t want to and he is nice to people that once hurt him because he wants to be good for his boyfriend and to Lian. It never occurred to him that he could possibly fall for Y/N during this time working for her safety. But he did.  And it was embarrassing. He could not look at her longer than a few minutes or his mind would drift to scenarios they would never live, and then he would feel guilt eating him up. Jason was going crazy over his feelings for this woman, she was diabolical with the way she made him feel. The way she would make him blush with a brush of fingers while cooking, the way she would make his chest warm with happiness when she smiled at him and the way she would make him feel euphoric when she complimented something about him. She was diabolical, and that's why in the last month he told Roy about his feelings.

Jason remembers how long the talk was, and he was not shocked to know that Roy still loves her and he truly understands the readhad, it's easy to love Y/N. Her ramblings about things she likes, the way she walks on the tip of her toes when happy, the way her hair falls over her eyes when she is focused. Jason feels like he is not some monster around her, she makes him feel light and makes him forget about all the vigilante stuff, he feels normal around her and good, he feels good. She makes it seem it's easy to be around him. 

They agreed to let her go if it was truly what she wanted, but if she decided to stay, they already talked about asking her out on a date, with both of them. If she didn’t want them both, they agreed that they would move on. It was the three of them together or nothing.

“What are you going to do now?” Roy asks, voice hoarse trying to keep the tears away. The young woman shrugs, her gaze on the wall next to her, deep in thoughts Roy couldn’t imagine what is about.

“A penny for your thoughts, sweets” Jason says, once again looking at her, he can feel the dread polling at his stomach and he just wants to hold her until she gets tired of him and Roy. 

“Thinking about my mom and my dad” she says, finally looking at them with tears stuck in her bottom lashes, making her look like a crying angel in the dim light of the kitchen. 

“Are you going to stay with them until you find another job?” the redhead questions, his fingers tapping lightly at the table, a clear sign of anxiety. 

“Yeah, I think I will,” she says softly, her shoulders drooping and her head falling, somehow hiding her face from the vigilantes in front of her. 

“Nice” Jason says, his voice thick with something not even him can say what it is, but he knows it’s not a good feeling. He feels like he is losing her without trying to actually have her in the first place. “They must miss you”

“They do,” she answers Jason quickly, trying to stop the conversation in its tracks, but it looks like he won’t bite the bullet.

“Where do they live, again?” the brunette asks, not wanting to stop because if they stop talking he won’t be listening to her voice. 

“New York City” 

Jason clicks his tongue not knowing what to say anymore so he looks at Roy, expecting to see the redhead formulating a plan to keep her around longer, but there is only acceptance in this eyes and Jason knows he lost the battle, he knows she would be leaving soon to NYC and if he tries to stop her, Roy wouldn’t help. Not because he doesn’t love her, but because he isn’t the type to hold people where they don’t want to be. 

Roy gets up and smiles fondly at Y/N, hiding his true feelings behind a mask. “If you need anything, just call us.”

She smiles, a tiny one, and nods again understanding that she is not wanted around when in fact what they wanted more is for her to stay with them.

“See you around, boys” she says, leaving for the bedroom that will no longer be hers in the morning.

[itsjustrosee]

hiii love, not sure if you’re taking requests for Minho (maze runner) but if you are, could you write one where shy fem reader gets caught in a situation where her shirt accidentally rips up in front of everyone in the glade (you can choose the interesting situation of how that occurs lol) and she is bare, then feels vulnerable cause the gladers start whistling and stuff but Minho immediately takes his shirt off and covers her to protect her.

She feels safe with him and he is protective of her even though they haven’t talk much as she hardly sees him cause he’s a runner- mutual pining ig 🥰. And maybe it could end in some spice hehehe

stop it this is literally such a cute prompt I squealed when I read this. And spice is my specialty so I'm glad you asked me to include that😜. I hope I've done your idea justice!! And yes I am always taking requests and looking for new things to write so honestly ask away!!

PROTECTIVE (Minho x fem!reader (one-shot))

Context: Pre Thomas, look for summary above ^

Warnings: Cursing and spice

Word count: 2.8k (sorry this one was a bit short)

! I proof read but there might still be spelling mistakes !

Being the only girl in the glade was definitely a struggle at times. Obviously Alby had set up rules and regulations for all of the other gladers to follow to try and make you feel as comfortable and welcomed in the glade as possible, but there was only so much he could do. Though no one had tried anything physical with you, you always found a way to overhear hushed conversations regarding you and your body.

However, during your time in the glade you were able to become close with Chuck, Newt, and a few other boys. You could always find yourself laughing and hanging out with them the way they did with everyone else. They never treated you differently just because you were a girl, which is what you had grown to greatly appreciate.

You had been in the glade for a little while. In fact, today had been the 4th month since your arrival, and you knew this because a new greenie ascended from the box this morning.

His reaction getting out of the box was to be expected. He gave the normal theatrics, looking like he was about to have a panic attack, asking question after question, and then actually having a panic attack. But unfortunately he was harder to calm down then most. And being keeper of the medjacks, and baring the title of, 'the caring one' around the glade, it was up to you to calm him down. You didn't mind it though, he was a really sweet kid and he didn't even look to be much older then Chuck.

"I feel bad for the poor greenie." Newt sighed before continuing. "I mean, I feel bad for everyone who has to come down here and deal with the whole 'trapped in a maze' bit, but he's just really young." Newt explained while he plucked a blade of grass from the ground and held it in his hand. You and Newt always tended to come and hang out by the garden whenever neither of you were out working. And because you were finally able to get the new guy to calm down, he was taking a nap on one of the beds in the medhut, and since the medhut had been particularly slow otherwise, you and Newt were able to talk a bit before dinner and the bonfire.

"Yeah, I get what you're saying." You say with an exhale. "It's still difficult to come to terms with this whole thing, even after being here for a few months." Newt gave you a silent nod after you said that and neither of you said anything afterwards.

Newt was always good company. Neither of you had to talk and fill the air with conversation because being silent around each other was almost comforting in a way.

The silence between the both of you had been broken though, when you both saw Minho and the rest of the runners run out of the maze and begin jogging towards you both, probably heading to the maze room. The maze doors began to close, incasing you in glade for yet another night.

As Minho passed you and Newt, he greeted both of you with a wave and continued to jog past you.

Though you have been in the glade for a bit, you and Minho had never really spoken to each other before. Your schedules definitely didn't allow for you guys to talk to each other, considering he was always in the maze and you were always in the medhut. However, there was something about him that totally drew you in, you just didn't know what it was.

"Someone has a crush, huh?" Newt said with a smirk as he turned his head to look at yours. Immediately you turned your attention back to Newt.

Shit you were totally staring at Minho just then.

"A crush? Your talking like a child right now Newt." You say with a bit of an attitude.

"Well it's not like you're denying it." Newt says with a chuckle as he begins to stand up from his sitting position on the ground.

"Oh slim it." You say while rolling your eyes and taking Newts hand as he helped you up so you can both start heading to dinner.

Both you and Newt woke up the greenie and took him to dinner, and the evening continued like any other. Everyone was welcoming of him and it was good to see him laughing and actually talking to people.

Eventually, Gally and a couple others began to set up for the bonfire, so you took the quick opportunity to freshen up in your hut. It was honestly really nice of Alby to force Gally and the other builders to make you one just so you felt like you had enough privacy.

You changed into a pair of shorts and changed out of your tank top. You put on one of your favorite/ only shirts, which was the perfect balance of baggy yet tight on you. It was going to get colder throughout the night so you wanted to have a bit more clothing on, and you also couldn't stand the idea of being in your tank top for another second. Definitely not after sweating your ass off in it the entire day.

You joined up with everyone else and soon the festivities began. Everyone, including yourself, was drinking Gally's very shity brew and of course the greenie almost puked after one sip. Needless to say, the drink was a bit of an acquired taste, but he would get used to it. Gally was playing that stupid wrestling game with the rest of the gladers and everything was going as per usual.

You had found yourself a seat on a bench next to Newt, and you allowed your back to rest on the bench, letting out a sigh as you began to relax. You sat closer to everyone else than where you would normally sit, because you were still trying to keep your eye on the greenie. Minho, Chuck, and a group of about 10 others were sat down with you on surrounding benches. Voices and jokes filled the air and your stomach began to hurt from laughing so much.

It was times like these that mattered most when you were in the glade. It reminded you that though you were all trapped here, at least you were making the best of it. Without this type of structure, you'd bet that even Alby would've gone mad by now.

"Hey I'm going to get another drink, do you mind coming with?" Newt asked me, already up out of his seat and in front of me.

"Yeah sure, I could use another glass anyways." You explained while taking his hand.

All of this would've been fine if your shirt hadn't snagged on a loose nail from the bench.

As newt pulled you up from your seat neither of you had realized what had happened until way too late, the damage was already done by that point. Your shirt wasn't made out of the best material, so the entire thing had completely ripped off of you.

So there you were. Stood in front of an enormous group of boys wearing nothing but your bra, which only provided the bare minimum amount of coverage.

Apparently the rip from your shirt was loud enough to earn the attention of everyone, even Gally's group who was stood further away from you. It took you, along with everyone else, a moment to fully comprehend the situation. And in that moment you would've been more then happy if a griever showed up and swallowed you whole. Nothing compared to the amount of embarrassment you were feeling in that moment. Especially not when you began to hear whistles and laughs from some of the boys.

By this point you had both of your hands covering your chest, and your mind was completely blank. What the hell were you even supposed to do in a situation like this? It would take you ages to live this down, and of course something like this had to happen right when you thought everyone was getting over the fact you were a girl.

Newt stood there staring at you along with everyone else in the group of people who were sitting with you. You could see a couple guys in front of you let out laugh a laugh, which only caused your eyes to well up with tears.

You had never cried in the glade. Not once. You couldn't let yourself.

You didn't cry when you arrived from the box, or even when you were ostracized for being the only girl. But still you couldn't help but feel so utterly humiliated.

Even though it had felt like you stood there on display for hours, it had only been at least five seconds since your shirt had ripped off. Before anyone else could turn their heads to look at you, Minho got up suddenly.

He took his shirt off quickly while walking over to you, and you took your arms away from your chest, allowing him to pull his shirt onto you so you were no longer stood half naked in front of anyone. You were shocked by his gesture. Out of all the people in the glade, you had never thought he would be the one to protect you like this, but you were thanking god he did.

As he stood towering over you for a couple more seconds you couldn't help but take in what he looked like shirtless. And jeez, lets just say all this running he does pays off. He looked like he had been carved out of stone by the gods. His abs looked chiseled on, and you were going absolutely feral for it. In the most respectful way possible though of course.

Half of the glade looked just as shocked as you, and the rest looked disappointed. You heard groans and curses from Gally's group, as if they were annoyed with Minho.

"Oh come on Minho, you really had to ruin it for everyone, huh?" Gally said, and it was obvious that he was already through multiple glasses of his moonshine. His snarky comment was warranted by a couple of snickers and laughs from the other boys sitting with him. Minho turned around to face him and at this point they were stood with a bit of distance between each other, but still not much. And it was safe to say that Minho looked like he was about to maul Gally.

"What did you just say?" Minho questioned, his voice dark and menacing as he began taking steps towards Gally.

"Oh what, you going to defend your girlfriend?" Gally contested while slurring and hiccupping between words, getting in Minho's face as he said it.

"She doesn't have to be my girlfriend for me to treat her like a normal shucking person, Gally." Minho said while firmly standing his ground.

It was quiet for a moment before any other response was made. You and the rest of the glade were just staring at them, and honestly you were thankful that the attention was finally off of you.

If it wasn't for Alby pulling the two boys apart, the night would've ended with someone bloody and bruised, and someone, or both of them, ending up in the pit.

Alby pushed Gally away and grabbed onto Minho's shoulder as he led Minho back over to me. "Minho take (Y/N) back to her hut and get her situated. I'll deal with Gally." Alby says, clearly annoyed with what the night had turned into.

You and Minho both silently began walking back to your hut. You wanted to thank him, you needed to thank him, but you just didn't know how you were going to. As he opened the door to your hut and both of you stepped in, he closed the door and you just stood looking at him. You were still flustered from him being, you know, without a shirt, but you had to compose yourself.

"Thank you Minho. For um- you know, giving me your shirt and stuff." You say while looking at the ground, your cheeks red from embarrassment as you painfully recall the whole situation.

"It was no problem really." Minho said as you looked back up at him.

"Yeah it's just- I don't know what I would've done without you-" And although it sounded cliché, you meant it. Your voice began to break after trying to continue, your words getting caught in your throat. Before you could compose yourself enough to say anything else, Minho brought you into his arms gently, and hugged you. His warm embrace made you feel safe and secure, and immediately your worries washed away as you hugged him harder. You buried your head into his chest and wrapped your arms around his waist and he wrapped his around yours.

You could've stayed like that for hours, but you forced your head away from his chest and looked up at him, staring deep into his eyes and he did the same. There was a thick tension in the air as you felt the temperature in your hut increase.

Minho tucked a piece of your hair back behind your ear, "I'll always be here to protect you." Minho says while giving you a genuine smile, your stomach doing somersaults as you completely folded under his gaze. As your eyes followed his for a moment longer, you noticed them glance at your lips and before you could even process it, he kissed you.

You stood there shocked and bewildered, this night had been an absolute rollercoaster of fucking emotions and you were not prepared for it once so ever.

After not reciprocating the kiss Minho pulled away, "I'm sorry I didn't mean to- I don't want it to seem like I'm taking advantage of you or something- I-" But before he could finish his sentence you kissed him back, your lips merging into his completely, as if you were two magnets that were completely drawn together naturally.

The kiss was passionate yet gentle, and you practically melted into him. You let his tongue explore the inside of your mouth and your lips worked against his in unison. For all you knew, Minho was the first boy you had ever kissed, and you were totally fine with that. You didn't even need to kiss any other boy to know that Minho did it best.

You took one of your hands and kept it on his back, caressing his muscles on his upper back. While your other hand found it's way to his nape and you began to take his hair between your fingers, tugging at them more whenever he kissed you harder.

He kept one of his hands by your waist and the other at your back, trying to bring you as close to him as he possibly could. He held you as if you were the only thing worth holding onto, and he was never willing to let you go.

You could feel the heat radiating off of Minho as he pinned you against one of the walls in your hut next to the door. You were left completely breathless once Minho pulled away, biting at your bottom lip as he then continued to kiss you down your jaw. You could feel him begin to suck at the sensitive part part of skin between your neck and collar bone, causing a small whimper to escape your mouth.

Minho continued to kiss down your collar bone and as low as your shirt's neck line would let him. You could feel his kisses become more sloppy and desperate. It was as if he couldn't wait to get his hands on more of you, and you couldn't wait to give yourself in to him.

You pushed him off and quickly took off your shirt, tossing it to the ground as Minho stared at you. He put his arms around you again and smirked as he began to kiss you, more hungrily this time.

"I'll never let anyone else in the glade see you like this again. I promise." He said between kisses. The sincerity in his voice was prominent.

You could tell that all of what Minho had said was true. If any other boy tried to touch you, or even look at you in the wrong way, he would be there to protect you.

In that moment you had realized that no one would be able to make you feel the way Minho made you feel. He satisfied all of your desires and he fulfilled you in ways you didn't even know were possible. You were everything he wanted, and he was everything you wanted. But more importantly, he made you feel safe, like as long as you were in his arms he would never let anything bad happen to you.

Then suddenly, there was a nock on the door. Then it swung open abruptly.

"Hey um (Y/N), I really wanted to apologize for earlier-" But before Gally could say anything else, he turned his head and saw you and Minho, half naked and pressed against each other.

"Oh shuck- I didn't mean to- I'll leave now." And with that, he was out of the door as quickly as he entered it.

ok guys heres another!! I really hoped that yall liked it. I had quite the fun time writing this and I think it turned out pretty well!

btw I'm going to start working on pt.2 to stranded, and I should have it finished relatively soon, but I've never written smut before so that's going to be quite interesting. But seriously thank you to everyone who wrote nice things under that post you have no idea how much it means to me ❤️❤️

[moni-logues]

Different Spaces

Pairing: Bangchan x reader

Genre: friends to lovers, smut

Summary: Chan has just returned home from tour and you hope you aren't wrong that something has changed between you. Only one way to find out...

Word count: 3.1k

Warnings: one (1) handjob, little bit of cum-eating, that's pretty much ya lot!

AN: YES, she's a MULTI BLOG NOW. And obviously it's Chan. It was always going to be Chan lmaooooo. Anyway, this idea crept into my head last night and then I wrote it today to put off writing something else 😅😅😅 I HOPE YOU ENJOY! It's unbeta'd (except for @minttangerines reading it to make sure it didn't suck lol) so forgive the typos please!!!

ETA: you can now find part two HERE!

*~*~*

It wasn’t weird and it wasn’t uncomfortable. But it was different. It was definitely different this time. 

Chan sat in front of you, between your legs, his back against your chest and his head in the soft space between your shoulder and collarbone. You leant against the arm of the sofa with your hands on his stomach- 

That was different. You had the hem of his T-shirt between your fingers, toying mindlessly, while your other hand rested on his warm, soft skin beneath it. He had one hand resting over yours, his fingers not exactly entwined with yours, but not exactly not.  

You’d held hands before. On occasion. Entirely casually, platonically. Except for the part where you wished it wasn’t casual, wished it wasn’t platonic.  

You’d had feelings for Chan for as long as you could remember, since you first set eyes on him. Honestly, you were used to it. Comfortable with it even. You knew you weren’t going to do anything about it and that meant it didn’t worry you. It would be your little secret and you would soak up all the time with him you could, you would enjoy all the friendship privileges he offered you and you would clutch them close to your heart in the absence of any actual body to hold.  

It was only before he went away this last time, a couple of months ago, that you felt something change. Something about how clingy he had been the night before he left, a little more tactile than he usually was. He was ants-in-his-pants fidgety and wouldn’t sit still. He was wrestling you into a hug one minute and then pushing you to the other end of the sofa the next. He held you so tightly and for so long when you hugged him goodbye that you had joked it was like he was going off to war. He had laughed only half-heartedly, which, for Chan, might as well have not been laughing at all. He had pulled back and looked at you intensely with his hands still on your waist and you had waited and waited for him to say or do something else but he just kept looking. 

“Are you going to like, actually leave?” you had asked. 

He snapped out of his trance and ruffled your hair.  

“Course I’m going! Why? Trying to get me to stay?” 

You weren’t, because you knew he was going to leave, anyway, that he had to go, but he sounded hopeful (or were you imagining it?). 

“Yeah. I did consider locking you up for a second, but taking care of one animal is enough; I’m not sure I could cope with having to feed and care for you, too!” 

He had done a proper laugh then and you were reassured that whatever had just happened, it was a blip, a glitch, nothing more. He had hugged you one last time, shorter, looser, and then turned to leave with a salute. 

Then he was back, hugging you just as hard, fresh off the plane (rather unfresh, actually, and he had the cheek to ask to use your shower!).  

And it was the same as it had ever been. 

But it was also different. Because he had told you so many times while he was away that he missed you; he had said ‘wish you were here!’ so often that you actually believed it; your gallery was full of ‘found you!’ photos of ugly statues and ‘thought you’d like this’ shots of architecture and souvenirs—souvenirs he’d actually bought and brought home for you. He didn’t usually do that.  

And now, there you were, with your hands on his skin and your cheek resting lightly on the top of his head and he was laughing at the film you were watching and taking your hand from the hem of his top, crossing it over his torso and holding it there. He closed his fingers over yours. Holding hands. You flattened your palm over his stomach and stroked sideways, the circle of your arms tighter around him, and you wanted to ask what this meant. Did it mean anything? Had he just been lonely on the road? Did he just want some physical contact? Were you just... there?  

You weren’t one to be stuck in indecision. You didn’t have the patience for it. You decided, when you first met, that you weren’t going to act on your feelings because trying to date an idol was an insane thing to do. And you didn’t need the stress.  

But you also didn’t need the long, drawn-out stress of a ‘will they? Won't they?’ scenario with one of your closest friends.  

And, if you were going to be really honest, you kind of did need a good fuck. And you’d thought about fucking him a lot, one might say too much. And if he was interested, if something had changed and he saw you differently now, well, then the bedroom was calling for you.  

“Chan?” you said quietly. 

He twisted his head a little. 

“Yeah?” 

“Can I... touch you?” 

You drew your fingers back, softly grazing your nails against his abs. He giggled. 

“What do you mean? We already are touching!” 

You slipped just the tips of your fingers beneath the waistband of his jogging bottoms and the waistband of his boxers. 

“No, I mean... touch you.” 

“Oh, sh-… Uh.”  

You didn’t move your hand; you felt his heartrate quicken, thumping back against your chest.  

“You don’t have to say yes. It’s ok if the answer’s no.” 

“Yeah, no,” he said. “I mean, the answer’s yes. It’s ok.” 

“Are you sure?” you asked. 

He swallowed and nodded and put his hand over yours, carefully encouraging it lower. 

“Yes, I’m sure.”  

His hand left yours as it disappeared beneath the fabric of his clothes and you couldn't breathe as your fingers ran over the velvet skin of his soft cock, which twitched on contact. As you pushed his trousers and his boxers down, you almost couldn’t look, couldn’t bear the thought of disappointment, after all this waiting, after every fantasy, but you needn’t have worried. Of course, it was fucking perfect. Just like the rest of him. You wrapped your fingers around his semi-hard length and he shifted. 

“You don’-” Then he hesitated. 

“Don’t what?” 

“Uh, you don’t have to be gentle...” 

Then he wrapped his fingers around yours, squeezed a little tighter, and your thighs squeezed, too. You chuckled, a little embarrassed, a little shy actually, a little over-awed. 

“Channie likes it rough, huh?”  

You didn’t need to see his face to know he was blushing; you could feel the heat radiate from his cheeks. 

“Um, well, uh-”  

He was stammering now and you were amazed that he could be bashful with his cock in your hand, shy even though he was directing you. 

“I like it,” you whispered and you felt a shiver go through him.  

He kept his hand over yours and you smiled to yourself because you should have expected this. Control freak Chan, perfectionist Chan, Mr ‘I’ll just do it myself’ Bang. It was cute. But you weren’t going to let him get away with it. You let him control you, let him show you how he liked it, let him get himself to the point where his breathing was heavy and his bottom lip was bitten between his teeth and his brows were furrowed.  

“Hey,” said, nudging his head with yours. “Who exactly is giving this handjob? You want me to just leave you to it or...?” 

He spluttered and stopped and immediately let your hand go. 

“Sorry, I-” 

“You don’t have to apologise; I know you. But I want to do this for you, y’know?” You turned your head and gently bit the top of his ear before pressing a kiss to it.  

“Yeah, got it. All yours.”   

“Thank you.” 

You had him panting again in seconds, because he had already given you his secrets, and when he tipped his head backwards and whined, it made your cunt pulse. 

“Ok, you’re right, you’re right,” he gasped. “This is better. Fuck... Oh shit.” 

He was moving like he couldn’t help himself, his hips snapping up, fucking himself in your fist and you could feel his thighs twitching, feel the tension coiling in his body.  

It was building in you, too, as you soaked through your underwear. He wasn’t quiet and every moan, every grunt, every gasp of your name made your head spin. You hoped it wouldn’t stop here. After all this time, something was finally happening and you needed it to keep happening, you needed him to feel you, too. A moan fell from your own mouth as you imagined him fucking you, imagined that it wasn’t your hand around his cock but your cunt. That he liked it even rougher when he was inside you. That the deep black intensity he had inside him came out. That he fucked you like he danced, with every inch of his body and every ounce of strength.  

“I’m-.. I’m-…"  

You didn’t need him to tell you. 

“I know, babe. Go on, make a mess. Make a mess for me.” 

With a shudder and a cry trapped low in his throat, he came, over your hand, over your fingers, over his stomach and his T-shirt. He was gulping in air with his eyes closed and a hand clenching and unclenching at his side.  

“Oh, shit,” you whispered as you swiped a finger through the mess on his skin. “Who’s going to clean all this up?”  

You raised your hand and brought it almost to your own mouth, then pretended to think twice before pressing down on his bottom lip. It was a bold move, you knew, but you were feeling emboldened.  

Then he opened his mouth and took your cum-sticky fingers in without a second’s hesitation. Would the night’s surprises never end? He licked your fingers clean and ran his tongue over your palm before he swiped his finger through the mess on his stomach and lifted it to your lips. You laughed. 

“I can do you one better.”  

You shuffled and climbed out from behind him, pushing him down and straddling him. It was the first time you had been face to face; you both blushed when your eyes met and you couldn’t stop the giggle that rose in your throat. He giggled back and you recognised that you were on the verge of hysteria; if you let that giggle become a laugh, it wouldn’t stop until you were both crying. You tried to rein it in, this strange, self-conscious shyness that was gripping you, this wild giddiness that made you want to scream with laughter and cry ‘I CAN’T BELIEVE THIS IS HAPPENING RIGHT NOW!’. You were looking at Chan and you knew he felt it, too; his eyes glittered and then all but disappeared as his smile widened. He bit his lip to try to keep it in, but it was no use.  

He snorted and covered his face with his hands as a loud laugh bellowed forth. You never could resist his mirth. You were helpless to it at the best of times. He was curling over, his whole body shaking, and you were climbing off him, flopping to the floor, weak with it, the laughter sapping your strength and overriding any capacity for being serious. It was too absurd. That this had just happened. That one day—one moment—you were friends and the next you were making him come over himself, that he was licking his own cum from your fingers. That you had wanted this for such a long time and sworn off it. That you had no idea it might be something he wanted. That you never even thought to ask! That it could have been this easy? All this time?  

Your brain was elsewhere as your breath shuddered and tears streaked your cheeks. You thought you had got yourself under control: your breathing was shaky and your stomach hurt but your eyes were dry and you sat yourself up. Then you looked at Chan, face also tear-streaked, flushed with glee, and you both collapsed again. 

“Don’t look at me,” Chan said, his voice thick and wobbly with laugher some minutes later. “Don’t look at me, please, I can’t laugh anymore, but can you get me a fucking tissue or something?”  

You shut your eyes, scrunched your face, and pressed your fist to the bridge of your nose; you couldn’t laugh anymore, it would kill you. But you knew that if you turned to look at him, helpless and messy on his back, that another fit would catch you. You crawled to the end table and threw the box of tissues in his direction. 

“Thanks.” 

You leant back against the edge of the sofa and let your breath resume its normal rhythm, let your heart slow down, let Chan wipe himself up and tuck himself away. You felt him sit up as his knee knocked your shoulder and you turned so you could just see him out of the corner of your eye. He looked down at his cum-stained T-shirt and gingerly pulled it over his head. Then he looked at it, displeased. 

“This was clean on like, an hour ago.”  

“Oh, shit, sorry, dude. You want me to take the handy back or something?” 

He looked alarmed for a second. 

“Do you want to take it back?” 

“No.” 

“Good, neither do I.” 

“I would kind of like to know where the fuck it came from though.” 

“What are you talking about? You started it! You offered!” 

“Chan, you were holding my hand. We don’t hold hands! Look at all this shit you bought me!” You gestured broadly to giftbags and boxes, trinkets and jewellery on the coffee table. “Besides, I’ve always wanted it; you haven’t.” 

He stared at you, mute, looking like you’d just asked him a long division question.  

“You always wanted it?” 

“Yep.” 

“Why didn’t you say anything?!” 

“Because you didn’t want it!” 

“How would you know?! You never asked!” 

“Ok, well, did you?” 

He looked up; he looked down. He looked thoughtful. He looked a little apologetic. 

“I don’t really know,” was his eventual answer. 

“Well, there you go. That’s why I didn’t say.” 

Silence reigned and you didn’t want this to collapse, to fizzle into awkwardness.  

“Do you want it? Now?” you asked. 

“Yeah.” At least he sounded sure about that. 

“What changed?” 

When he looked at you and caught your eyes, there was a look there you hadn’t seen in them before. It was almost painfully soft, tender in a way that pierced your heart. He didn’t say anything for a moment, just looked at you like he was looking at something precious, something sweet. Then he shrugged. 

“I’ve never been away from you that long before.”  

“And?” 

“I didn’t want to be. It made me not want to go at all. And I couldn’t work out why it mattered so much. I’ve been away before. I’ve been here, even, and just been busy and not seen you for a while. But it felt different this time, somehow. I really didn’t want to go. And I talked about it and everyone told me I was like, the world’s biggest idiot. They all apparently thought—or knew?—I had feelings for you already and they all just said ‘tell her! You’ve got to tell her! Go for it!’ and I wanted to. I was going to, the night before I left, but then I realised I’d be confessing all that stuff and then just... fucking off. I didn’t want to do that. So, I... did nothing, I guess.”  

“Fair enough.”  

“You wanted it all this time? Me, you wanted me?” 

That he even had to ask was adorable, broke your heart a little. Who wouldn’t want him? He was everything you could have asked for and more; he ticked every box; he made your sad little heart sing like a songbird. And he still had to ask.  

“Since the moment we met.” 

“Shit.” 

“Shit.” 

“I had no idea.” 

He looked like he meant it, too: a little dazed, a little confused, just a hint of wonder on his face.  

“So, what now?” he asked.  

You shrugged. 

“You mean right now, or general future ‘now’?” 

“I guess both?” 

“Can I be honest?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Right now, I would really like to do something about how badly I want to fuck you.” 

And he was bashful Chan, again, his eyes wide and the tips of his ears pink, his mouth slightly open with surprise. You watched his Adam’s apple bounce as he swallowed.  

“I... am amenable to that.” 

“Want to try that again with something even slightly sexy?” 

And he blushed bright, covering his face with his hands.  

“Fuck, ok, give me a second.” 

You laughed and moved from the floor to sit opposite him on the sofa, your knees touching. You waited patiently for a second or two, then tapped his leg.��

“I’m flustered, ok!” he cried. “You’ve got me all... flustered. I don’t know... I-.. Agh. I swear I’m not this bad usually. I promise. I just--… this has really taken me off-guard! Fuck, I didn’t know. I-” 

You interrupted him to climb into his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck. He lifted his face to yours and you kissed him, just a light peck on his petal pink lips. 

“How about you let me lead, then?” you asked, your voice soft and low. “Can you do that? Can you let me take control?” 

He looked at you pleadingly, his eyes round and wide, and you were worried that it meant no, that he was going to say he didn’t want that. 

“Yes, please.”  

Fuck.  

With your hands on either side of his face, you pulled him closer and kissed him again, deep this time, deep and slow and breathless. He tasted of honey butter chips, which you had never liked before that moment. His tongue rolled with yours, soft and sweet and every bit as good as you had imagined. He whined quietly, just barely, when you pulled back, when you sank your teeth into the plush pink of his lower lip. When you looked at each other, nose-to-nose, his eyes were wide again, sparkling and bright and looking at you like you were the whole world. 

It wasn’t weird and it wasn’t uncomfortable and it wasn’t awkward; it didn’t feel like crossing a line or pushing a boundary; it felt like you should have been doing this all along. It was different for the two of you, sure, it was different. But you’d been ready for this change since you learnt his name, since he held his hand out to you and smiled politely. This different was good. This different was everything you’d ever wanted.  

[kindagayfish]

General (Stampede) Wolfwood x reader headcanons cause he makes my brain go brrrr

Also, reader is gn and there is some nsfw below the cut!

You’re in the car when Meryl hits him, and the first one to his side to see if he’s still breathing. When he looks up at you and sees the sun haloing your face, he thinks he’s died and gone to heaven

Nickname’s you “angel” for the day

“And that just leaves the last one for me and the angel.” The dark-haired man flashes you a grin, nodding towards the fourth chamber inside the giant worm.

“Wait, hang on, why do I have to go with you?” You stammer out, heat rising to your cheeks.

“You guys don’t trust me right? Wouldn’t it be smarter to keep an eye on me then?”

“Would be better if I went instead,” Roberto cuts in, eyeing the man.

“Sorry old man, you’re not really my type.” He waves Roberto off before heading towards the opening of the chamber. “Now we don’t have any time to waste standing around.”

“Y/n” Roberto tosses you his gun. “Shoot’em in the knees if he tries anything.”

“Yes sir”

You’re surprised when he’s the one who pulls you from the giant worm’s guts. And after thanking him, he gives you his name.

Falling asleep on Wolfwood’s shoulder in the car is just a habit that wordlessly happens after he joins the group. At first you would just lean your head back and try to stay upright while squished between Vash and Wolfwood. However, this will lead to your head bobbing a lot and not actually being able to fully fall asleep so after watching it happen for the tenth time, Wolfwood just guides your head down gently onto his shoulder. Vash would definitely raise an eyebrow at him but Wolfwood would ignore it with the deepest blush on his face.

When you ask him to do something for you the first time, he’ll ask for a kiss as a reward.

If the request flusters you, he’ll laugh saying he’ll put it on your tab and wink. If you take him up on the request, he’ll completely lose his composure and be stuttering out nonsense (honestly didn’t think you’d actually do it).

Keeps his white shirt unbuttoned even more than normal after catching you staring one day (I MEAN HAVE YOU SEEN THIS MAN’S TITS?????)

Will sometimes just hand you his cross just to see you struggle with holding it up. Thinks it’s hilarious and always waits until you beg for his help.

WILL MANHANDLE YOU JUST LIKE HIS GUN THIS MAN LOVES HOW STRONG HE IS AND WILL SHOW OFF EVERY CHANCE HE GETS

While running from danger Wolfwood will legit throw you over his shoulder and carry his weapon under his other arm

If you are getting shot at though, he will use his god-given strength to throw you out of the way. You might still get hurt, but better to be alive with a broken arm than be dead full of bullet holes.

I think every time he uses one of his vials, it also heals the damage in his lungs from that nasty smoking addiction and that’s why he can still sprint at full speed without wheezing

Will finally have his Oh shit I’m in love with them moment after you get hurt for the first time (I have a fic im writing for the confession and it’s so good omg) but keeps it to himself because he isn’t sure you feel the same. Probably thinks you wouldn’t ever want to be with a man who calls himself an undertaker.

Even before his big realization, Wolfwood was very protective of you. If you got into a disagreement at a bar, he knew you could handle yourself, but that didn’t stop him from hovering behind you with a deadly aura, his eyes threatening any man who dare approach you.

A nsfw treat >:)

I honestly believe this man is the definition of a switch

Like I feel like he himself would be such a brat, but also could dish it out to a brat partner???

SUCH A TEASE

Praise and body worship!!!!!!!! Literally your body is a temple to him

I feel like he would have some silly and serious moments with you. Like this man makes LOVE to you, but also just loves to tease and fluster you and loves when you get shy/embarrassed.

But Wolfwood is also so easy to fluster too so it’s just a battle of who can shut the other person up first

He’s got some hot breathy moans (lord have mercy)

Wolfwood will say a prayer before going down on you

He’ll have you naked, situated on the bed so that your legs hang off the edge while he’s knelt in front of you on the floor

“Oh heavenly father, I have come to thank you-”

“Nicholassss what are you doing?” You laugh as you prop yourself up on one elbow to give him a look.

“Uh, thanking the lord for this meal? You’re ruining it. Now I have to start over.”

He’ll trail kisses up your leg and thighs while finishing his prayer, before finally bringing his eager lips to where you need them the most.

[echo-rambles]

use my body against me

summary: when a drunk text to your ex gets answered in a way you never expected, it leads to falling right back into old habits. tags: past established relationship, ex-boyfriend chan, suggestive content but nothing explicit, mention of recreational alcohol use, swearing. notes: title from the way you miss me by all time low. mostly a rewrite of my very first reader insert fic, because I loved the concept but I wasn't a fan of my own writing, and I think I've vastly improved since. I might write a continuation, but no promises.

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

The situation you currently find yourself in is truly one of your own making. There’s really no one else to blame, no matter how much you would love to point the finger at literally anyone besides yourself. 

There’s a text message from Bang Christopher Chan sitting there, on your phone. Staring up at you almost accusatory and chilling you to the bone. 

-Good morning, I hope you’re drinking water to combat all of that vodka you consumed last night! hahaha 

At first, the text means nothing to you. It leaves you in a state of mild confusion only exacerbated by your incredible hangover. How would he know you drank your weight in liquor? The only answer you can even try to think up isn’t a good one. Feeling brave and a little nauseous, you decide to scroll up, farther into this conversation between you and your ex.

The confusion melts away into horror as you locate the beginning of this conversation. One glance at the selfie you sent has the memory coming back to you, causing your headache to flare. Oh no.

It was late last night, and you had already drank one too many shots of whatever fruity flavored vodka was available. Shut away in Felix’s bathroom, the light overhead far too harsh and fluorescent, pulling your shirt down enough to show off your cleavage. Snapping a picture in the mirror above the sink, leaning into the counter and trying your best to look some approximation of sexy. 

Fumbling fingers sent it to Chan. The first text between the two of you in months. 

Looking at the selfie now has your stomach twisting into knots. Oh no. The texts that followed aren’t any better. Actually, they somehow make the entire situation worse. 

-the fact that i wore this shirt hoping you’d be at this party only to learn you went home EARLY?

-i wasted such an amazing outfit and for nothing

-i bet you looked good too. bastard

-sometimes i can’t tell if i miss you or just the weight of you on top of me 

-i miss how good you were -i know fora fact i miss your mouth -i miss your mouth on MY MOUTH -omg i miss my mouth on your

You swipe away from those messages. Knowing for a fact you’ll have to read them eventually, to get a proper understanding of the things you said to him. But not right now. Right now you continue to scroll, your texts devolving into a mix of incomprehensible emojis and bitching at Chan about things he very obviously can’t control. You were a mess, holy shit. Who even let you text? Why wasn’t your phone confiscated the moment vodka hit your lips?

The only things that Chan has replied with since your terrible wall of drunk texts is an initial Oh wow lol, and his aforementioned good morning text.

It could be worse, right? He could’ve blocked you or typed out an excruciatingly long lecture about drinking responsibly. It honestly could’ve been so much worse. 

Crawling your way out of bed, still vaguely nauseous and trying to fight the urge to lay face down on the floor and never get up again, you shuffle your way into the bathroom. First thing’s first before you tackle whatever the fuck is on your phone, you decide to wash up to feel human again.

The world can fall apart around you for all you care. All you want is a shower and some toothpaste. 

Wrapped in a towel and your toothbrush sticking out of your mouth, you finally decide to reply. You probably shouldn’t, especially now that you’re sober and know better, but you have to apologize. That feels like the polite thing to do. 

Well, the only way to begin is by beginning. 

-lol hey good afternoon 

-I ended up demolishing an entire water bottle when I got home last night but sadly it wasn’t enough to save me

How do you even apologize for last night? Sorry I was so angry and horny and I made it your problem? Sorry that the first time I've texted you since we broke up was a drunk thirst trap? So sorry, and hey by the way how have you been since we had the messiest breakup because you’re bad at prioritizing and I’m bad at communication? 

Yeah, definitely none of that. 

You’re still standing there in your bathroom, staring into the mirror and brushing your teeth on autopilot as your mind spins into itself, when your phone lights up. One notification followed swiftly by a second, making your phone buzz on the counter. 

Chan’s contact stares back at you, both messages fading off into ellipses. 

-Ah, RIP. You should’ve drank three…

-Hey, I know this is last minute, but I was wondering if we could…

Oh, you don’t think this is the sort of message you can read by yourself while still combating the aching nausea of a hangover. Absolutely not, whatever he has to say can be answered once you have a sufficient amount of caffeine and the right company. 

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

“I need a second opinion.” It’s the first thing you say, after sitting down across from Felix and shoving your phone at him. Showing off the string of text messages you experienced after waking up. You still haven’t read the newest text. 

Felix barely even moves his head from where it’s resting against the table. He’s clearly just as hungover as you are, but you feel like you’re in the middle of making a very bad decision and you need a second opinion. You shimmy your phone under the seam where his forehead meets the wood. 

With a little pout and deep groan, he’s shifting around and unlocking your phone. The silence stretches on as he swipes through the text thread and stares, blinks, and blinks some more. With a start, he’s sitting up straight, pulling the phone closer. 

“Wait, he wants to meet up with you?”

“He wants to what?” You snatch the phone from his hands, finally reading the text yourself. 

-Hey, I know this is last minute, but I was wondering if we could maybe grab lunch? Or, if you’re still too hungover for lunch, maybe something later?

Just the idea of seeing him again has something hot and electric buzzing through your veins. Your immediate instinct is to say yes. You want to say yes so badly, yes a thousand times over. Instead you very deliberately place your phone onto the table. 

Felix has slumped back into his seat, eyeing you warily. “I thought you weren’t talking to him?”

“I mean- I wasn’t. But now I am, kind of? It’s not that big of a deal-” 

“It felt like you two went through a divorce, I don’t know if I’d say it’s ‘not a big deal’-”

“I’m over it!” You proclaim, a little loudly. A little desperately. “And he is too if he’s talking to me.” 

All you get in response is Felix’s eyebrows pitching inwards and his mouth molding into a little frown. The type of frown that is trying very hard to not be a frown. He’s giving you the most pitying look you’ve probably ever seen on his angelic face. 

You should say no. Scoop up your phone and tell him that you can’t make it. Conjure up some far flung excuse so that you won’t reopen old wounds. But you want to see him again, desperately. 

You tap your fingers along the edge of the table. “Is this a bad idea?” 

“Do you want my truthful answer?” Felix replies from the depths of his hoodie. Your phone sits between you, dark screen facing the ceiling. 

You think for a moment. “Yes.”

“Yes.”

“Oh, fuck you.” 

The thing is, you know he has a point. It doesn’t feel very good but it’s true. Sure, you and Chan can be amicable over text, but that’s over text. Who knows what will happen if you’re face to face. Would it be awkward and stilted? Or maybe everything you say to each other will be filled with vitriolic anger. Things didn’t exactly end on the best terms, and that might just leak into an otherwise pleasant meeting. 

But you are nothing if not a professional at both denial and deflections, so you push all of those thoughts very far away. 

Maybe this could be a new start. Maybe you and Chan could be the incredibly rare type of people who are friends with their ex. You’d like that, actually, to have Chan back in your life beyond some tertiary character you hear about from other people. Texting him reminded you how much you actually miss your best friend. 

Snatching your phone up, you just barely restrain yourself from checking to see if you somehow managed to miss any new messages. 

“It’s a friend thing! Friend’s hang out all the time. We're going to go get coffee or something equally platonic and we're going to ignore all of the drunk texts I sent him!” Your voice raises in pitch towards the end, and it sounds like you're trying to convince yourself more than anything else.

Felix gives you a very unimpressed look. “You told him that you miss the feel of his-”

“I know what I said!"

"In your mouth-"

"Thank you!”

Those texts are burned into your brain, you're well aware of the things you sent Chan. How they got more detailed the more you sent. Just remembering some of them has you flushing.

“I mean," Felix hums, oblivious to the direction your thoughts are taking. "I guess it could be a thing friends do.” There's too much sarcasm in his words for your liking.

“As if you haven’t said something similar to any of your friends.”

One of his eyebrows arch, and the gesture is so very pointed. “Any friend that I’ve gotten on my knees for was never at any point an extremely complicated ex.”

"Shut the fuck up." He's right and you hate it.

But still. You want to see Chan so badly. Finally you give in to the all consuming urge to reply. Opening up Chan’s contact, your fingers work quickly. 

-I mean, if you’re paying…

-Of course I’ll pay haha 

-then count me in!

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone cave so quickly.” Felix sighs, but there’s something all tangled into his words. Some emotion you can’t really identify right now. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say it sounds hopeful. 

“Seriously, shut up.” 

“You came here asking for my opinion!” 

“Well!” You huff, trying not to glance at the little typing bubble that appears under your fingers. Signaling that Chan is in the middle of replying to you. He wants to continue your stupid little conversation. Your heart does a funny little wiggle at the sight. “I’ll take what you said into consideration, I guess.”

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

Felix was probably right, and that was such a complicated thought to have while Chan’s hand was currently palming you through your shirt. 

See, it really had started out with grabbing coffee together. Something extremely casual with no pressure, the conversation just a little awkward at the start. Both of you trying to remember how to be civil towards each other, how to smile and laugh at jokes. It came a lot easier to Chan, as always. But you missed this. You missed being in the same space as him and hearing his voice and fucking hell, Felix was right; you’re so incredibly weak. 

You tried so hard to keep things on track, really you did. The possibility of being friends was right there, laid out in front of you. But then Chan smiled- that small little smile where he ducks his head and bites at his lip and looks up at you from under those fucking eyelashes of his, and oh. You were gone.

He makes it almost disgustingly easy to be around him. It makes your head buzz. 

Somehow the touch of your fingers against the inside of his wrist lead you to his apartment. Where he pins you to the wall and kisses you so deeply you can feel it in your toes. You almost forgot what it felt like when Chan put his full strength into holding you in place. It’s heady. 

He still tastes the same. Somehow, in the midst of his hands gripping and tugging you closer, pressing your hips flush together, that’s the thought that floats its way to the forefront. Chan tastes the same, even after all this time where you never got to taste him. He feels the same too, a little wider, mostly in his shoulders, but still familiar. He makes the same little noise in the back of his throat when you run your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck. 

It’s all so familiar and you could choke on it. 

You should probably talk about this. The making out, yes, absolutely, but also the last few months and the texts and him asking to see you out of the blue. It should be talked about, right? Except what would you even say? You’ll just rehash the same things you’ve been saying. You felt ignored and he felt suffocated and you could never find a way to meet in the middle because you’re both stubborn. 

You should say something though, right? Right? 

The press of his hand against the dip of your waist, pulling you closer, has you losing any semblance of what language even is. Words? Who needs them? He’s hooking his other hand behind your knee and hiking it up, guiding you to wrap your leg around him, and really all you can think about is how you aren’t close enough.

You sneak your fingers up under the hem of his shirt, feeling the expanse of his skin, and the sound of the breathiest gasp leaving his lips settles along the curve of your spine. 

This doesn’t feel like a particularly good idea, but then he’s grinding against you, fingers digging into the meat of your thigh, and it doesn’t really matter all that much. 

“Is this a terrible idea?” He asks, practically breathing the words directly into your mouth, and you find it a little funny. Not only are you both having the same sort of thought, but it feels incredibly belated. 

“Honestly Chris? I don’t really give a fuck.” 

That gets him to laugh. Just the quietest little giggle into the skin of your jaw. His hand moves, until he’s grabbing at your ass and angling your hips higher, and it’s really such an inspired thing. The feeling of him, hard through his denim, pressing into you has a moan tripping out of you. 

You definitely need to talk about this. 

Chan keeps touching you, kissing you, undressing you. Little by little, constantly asking 'is this ok? Yeah? We can stop whenever you want-' because he's still a gentleman. You haven't been this close to him in months, but he's still so fucking considerate. It'd be more maddening if it wasn't so familiar. If anything it’s reassuring, filling you with a stupid amount of confidence. You know how to deal with this. 

You repeat yes over and over, hands at his shoulders and licking the word into his mouth, no matter how much he asks. 

He peels your shirt away, careful with the fabric, mouth already trailing down your neck, your chest, landing on the swell of your cleavage. Hands so wide, palms easily fitting to your bare waist.

"Just tell me to stop, and I will-"

Finally you snap. Like a live wire pulled too taut, reaching out to grab at his face. Pressing your fingers into the hollows of his cheeks, his chin resting in the curve of your palm. "Christopher, I'm so horny I feel like I might cry. So while I really appreciate what you're trying to do- if you don't rail me stupid in the next five minutes, I can't be held accountable for my actions."

"Oh, sorry." He blinks at you, a little slowly as he leans more of his weight into your hand. Your fingers dig into the meat of his face and you can feel something tense in his jaw.

"Don't apologize baby, just get on with it." This feels familiar too. Like slipping into a pair of beloved jeans. The fit so perfect.

His eyes light up in the next instant, sparkling and bright, and holy shit you're in for it now. "Say less, boss."

You don't know if you still love him, but you do know that you'll always love the feeling of his mouth on you. His hands. Leaving wet trails as he kisses your skin messily, sloppy. Clever fingers following in the wake of his tongue.

[bumblebeesfromvenus]

Lost and Found ♧| 2.

Leon S. Kennedy x reader (ft. my girl Ash)

A/N: This... this took me so long lmao I rewrote it like five times. I'm pretty happy with how it turned out, though! I don't really write slow burn, so this might suck. I wanna apologize for how fucking wonky the events of Part one are???? They're all out of order lmao anyway, Enjoy!

~Fi 🪻

Warnings: swearing, reader is an idiot (lovingly, of course), mention of a small injury, sucky slow burn

Word count: 2.7k

Part 1 ♧ Part 2 ♧ Part 3 ♧

Please don't copy my work! I put a lot of effort and heart into the things I write.

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It had been a couple of months since Spain happened. Your life has definitely... changed. Both good and bad. You were plagued by nightmares frequently, instinctively grasping your arm every time you shot awake. A faint, pink scar had formed where the gash once sat. Tracing it absent mindedly was a common occurrence ever since the first dream. You'd stare at the blank wall in your living room, gently caressing it.

That mission took a toll on you, so you were granted a few months off to work through your night terrors and process everything. Ashley had been a great help with that. She made sure you hung out at least once a week and always stayed in contact, calling you and you calling her. The events of Spain didn't leave Ashley without any struggles either. But, she had assured you that she was save, protected at all times and getting support from professionals. Talking to her, about Spain or anything really, helped you get out of the hole you were in.

She was your best friend. Whether or not she knew it, she really was. You didn't really have friends. Not since Raccoon City. You stayed inside your dull little home the last few years, working a boring office job for the government. Your only friend had been Dave, a middle-aged man who worked in the security department. So you rotted away for years, mourning your past life. Your past you.

Honestly, you have no idea how you ended up as a special agent in the first place. Your police background increased your chances at scoring the position, but you didn't really have much experience. When you were offered the 'promotion', you didn't think too much of it. Couldn't be that hard, could it? You'd survived Raccoon City after all.

You were so wrong. You basically traded the mediocre lunch breaks you had with Dave, with running for your life from Zombies. Bad fucking trade. And the worst part, your officials didn't give a shit. They just wanted this to be dealt with as discretely as possible. End of the story, they underestimated how big this whole thing actually was, and now you were the one left with the shitty consequences. But you had Ashley! And Leon, of course, but that was a little more complicated.

You still hadn't gotten around to the promise of getting drinks together. He was going away on missions all the time, so although you kept in touch no matter what, he wasn't there. You thought, after some excruciating years, you had found your best friend again. Your person. And you did, but he was so close yet so out of reach. You couldn't take it anymore. You lost 7 whole years with him, and you finally had him back, but he was still gone.

"I don't know what to do, Ash." You sighed, playing with your shirt while you held the phone to your ear.

"Well, have you told him that? I'm sure he wants to spend more time with you too, but you need to tell him that!" She urged. Biting your lip, you hestitated.

"I just... he was my best friend. We did everything together, and now.. I know that it's him but I don't recognize him. He's.. different now. I thought he didn't change, but.. he did. That scares me. What scares me even more is the fact that he's always on my mind, I can't seem to function without him here. I only think about him. 24/7." You mumbled into the phone.

"Sounds a whole lot like you're in love with him."

"I- what? No! I mean, of course I love him, he's my best friend, but that's it. He's just my friend and you can love your friends, right? Like, everyone does, it's not something odd or anything." you rambled.

Sure, your heart lit a flame every time he smiled, and the sound of his laugh was heaven. His dumb jokes never failed to put a smile on your face but that's just how friends are. Yes. Totally. Friends feel like that. Just some regular friendly feelings.

"You're so oblivious! That's NOT how friends feel about eachother. Like ever. I've seen the way you look at him!" She argued. "What look? I don't look at him differently... do I?"

"Yes, you do. Everytime he's near you, that lovesick smile on your face kinda gives it away. Or the blush when he asks if you're okay. Not to mention how you panic when he gets hurt. Just admit it!" Ashley whined.

"I'm not in love with him, Ashley! He's my best friend, that's it!" You argued. She groaned into the phone. "I can't believe you're so smart yet so stupid." She said, clearly annoyed. "Rude." you mumbled.

"I have to go now, Miss Denial. Seriously though, you're not doing yourself a favor by denying your feelings." She said softly. You rolled your eyes and huffed.

"Would it make you feel better if I told you I'll think about it?"

"Definitely. Love you!" She beamed.

"Love you too." You chuckled as she hung up. Maybe you would think about it. If not for yourself, then for her. She was right about suppressing your feelings but about you being in love with Leon... you weren't sure.

Eh, that was a problem for the future you. For now, all you wanted to do was enjoy some drinks with him.

Your teeth gnawed at your lip, trying to decided how to go about this situation. Do you call Leon now? Tomorrow, maybe? Should you call him at all? You hadn't talked to eachother in a while... would it be awkward? Before you can lend any more attention to those thoughts, your phone rang and it was none other than Leon. Speak of the devil. You picked up, your heart racing.

"Hey... look, I'm sorry for not calling more, work s'just been busy. I.. Do you want to go for those drinks I promised tonight?" He sounded nervous. Unsure. He sounded so much like the Leon you knew. Your Leon. Maybe he hadn't changed that much after all. "Y-yeah, I'd love that. Um-  how does eight sound?" You responded, a little more nervous than you wanted to. "Sounds good. See you." And with that, he hung up.

Something's up with him. Your brows furrowed. Maybe he worked more to get his mind off Spain? He was a workaholic, trying to do more and more and not realizing how much it actually affected him. He was hurting himself by trying to protect others from harm. Maybe it's just the stress. You had plenty of time to question him at the bar, supported by a few Piña Coladas.

A couple of hours before, the anxiety hit you like a truck. It was safe to say that you were scared out of your mind right now. How the fuck were you supposed to talk to Leon like nothing was going on? Like nothing happened? You couldn't. And after that conversation with Ashley? Nope. No chance. Panic was bubbling up your throat. You felt like you could never face him again. Everytime you looked at him, or even thought of him, it was just pain. The pain of the building collapsing on top of you. Your pained cries when you realized he hadn't come back for you. The pain when you thought he was dead. The pain that if Ashley was right and you really were in love with him, you could lose him again.

He made your world bright and vibrant and when he was ripped from your grasp, you were lost in a sea of grey. Drowning. Desperately gasping for air, refusing to let the water in. Now, he had brought the color back to your life but all the vibrant hues made your head spin and your eyes hurt. You grew comfortable in your sea of grey. Embracing the cold kiss of the water filling your lungs, making you float peacefully.

Could you let the color back into your world? Could you pull yourself from the tide and cough up the water? Did you even want to? You didn't know. It was all too much. You were pulled out of your head when you dropped your glass of water. You were so consumed in your thoughts and anxieties that it had just slipped out of your hand. Carefully cleaning it up, you felt a sharp sting in your finger.

You had accidentally cut yourself on the broken glass shards. A small stream of blood was running down your finger and along your palm. A drop of blood hit the puddle of water, and it bloomed in red. You haven't felt like this in years. You could actually feel something. It's not like you didn't you feel the last seven years, but your soul was too numb to care. You actually felt something. Not like those times when you hit your head or nicked yourself while cooking. You would react relatively neutral to those incidents, but now... you could feel the burn of the cut, a searing sting in your skin. A small smile tugged at your lips.

It's because of him. Because you had him back, and he made you feel alive again. He had just stumbled into your life and turned it upside down. Like he always does. But you wouldn't want to have it any other way. God, how you had missed feeling like this. So vulnerable. So sensitive. So human.

You cleaned up the glass but hung on to the feeling of the cut. You didn't like it per se, but it made you feel like something inside you had been fixed. A missing puzzle piece that slotted right into place. It just felt so right.

Just like he did. You shook your thoughts, having the habit of spiraling, wether it may be good or bad, and continued on with your afternoon. Your nerves about spending time with Leon calmed, it was just Leon! Your best friend. You had nothing to worry about. Well, with Leon, usually there was at least a little something to be worried about.

You were out the door, into the night, on your way to Leon. You had decided to just walk there since parking was an absolute nightmare in this city. Besides, the fresh air in your lungs and cooling breeze on your face was something you hadn't felt in a while. Fumbling with a small box in your pocket, you continued to the bar you two had agreed to meet up at. It wasn't really a present, more something you wanted to return. You never thought you could.

You took a deep breath before stepping into the warmth of the bar. Your eyes were searching for Leon, looking for that familiar blonde head of hair. Spotting him in the back, an inevitable smile crept onto your face. When Leon noticed you, his face lit up, a hand reaching up to signal you over to him. He stood up when you approached and immediately pulled you into a tight hug.

"Hey." He mumbled, muffled by your hair. "Hi." You said, the joy in your voice evident. The first real hug in seven years. You could've melted on the spot. It felt so good. So right.

You reluctantly pulled away, smiling at him. "Wow... It's been a while, huh?" He said with a small laugh. "Yeah.." you responded with a chuckle. You sat down and ordered your drinks. "So.. what have you been up to? How have you been?" You asked. He pondered for a moment. "Not a lot to be honest. Worked a lot, you know, saved the world once or twice." He joked at which you just playfully rolled your eyes.

"What about you?"

"I uh... I adopted a dog. Her name is Lady, she's a Bernese mountain dog. I couldn't stand being alone anymore so I got Lady and yeah... that's about it when it comes to major life events." You laughed, a little nervous but the tension was fading by the minute.

"You gave in, huh? You used to talk my ear off about wanting a dog back then, remember?" He smiled. You did talk about wanting a dog all throughout your time at the police academy and it seemed like you had finally fulfilled that dream.

"Yeah, I did. She's so sweet, you'll love her." you said with a smile. Leon let out a laugh. "I'm more worried about her liking me." He joked.

You two continued to talk and drink, just laughing and having a good time. The night got closer and closer to ending when you remembered the box in your pocket.

"I have something for you." You mumbled, nervous to how he would react. He piped up at that and raised his eyebrows. "Aw, for me?" He teased. You just gave him a shy smile. Now or never. You pulled out the small box and slid it over to him. "I wanted to return this." you said quietly. His brows furrowed and a confused look fell on his face. "Return? Alright."

Leon carefully undid the bow and opened the lid. Not in a million years had he expected this. His jaw hit the fucking floor. It was his goddamn RPD badge. What the fuck? How did you even get this? It was tattered and faded. He gently ran his fingers across his barely legible name.

You chewed on the inside of your cheek. You had no idea how he would react. Leon looked at you completely bewildered. "I.. How?" He asked, still shocked. You shifted in your chair and fiddled with your fingers. "When... when I got out, I found it on the ground. It was the only thing I had left of you." You mumbled, avoiding eye contact. By 'got out' you meant fighting and clawing your way through infected residents and escaping the ruins of the collapsed building.

You could see the pain in his eyes. Whether it was his own for the pain he felt for you, you weren't sure. You spoke before he could. "I made a promise to myself that I would get it back to you one day, but.. at some point, I gave up and just kept it for myself. I thought you were dead and that this," you gestured to the badge," was the only thing I had left of you. My best friend. But it's yours, I want you to have it back." You said, your voice cracking, trying not to cry.

You could see the tears glistening in his eyes, his knuckles turning white as he tightly gripped his badge. "Thank you..." was all he managed to get out. You quickly wiped the tears that were threatening to fall and let out a sad laugh.

"God... I'm sorry for ruining the mood like that. It probably would've burned a hole in my pocket if I kept it any longer, though..."

Leon placed his badge on the table and took your hands in his. "You didn't. Well, a little maybe, but I'm really grateful for this. Thank you." He assured you, sqeezing your hands.  Your skin lit on fire. His touch was so addicting. And so comforting. A blush made its way onto your face. Oh, fuck. Was Ashley right? No. No way, it's just a little hot in here. That's all. But you couldn't deny the way your heart twisted and turned when he touched you, the butterflies in your stomach were having a fucking rave right now. Jesus, it's just Leon. Get it together You thought to yourself.

Shaking off all those annoying feelings, you returned a smile. "How about I make it up to you with a Movie Night, hm? Ice cream and cuddles from Lady included." You proposed. He grinned and leaned in a little closer. "What about cuddles from you?" He asked, a teasing smirk on his face. It didn't come off nearly was confident as he wanted it to. His voice shook a little, making him sound nervous.

Leon Kennedy? Nervous? Something was definitely up. His nervousness didn't stop the bubbling feeling in your stomach, though. There go the butterflies again. Stupid bugs. This is normal, though. Right? You always cuddled. Friends cuddle. No big deal. He's always been like that. No sweat. Just a little friendly cuddle session. That. Is. It. Is it bad that you wanted it to be more than that? The idea of being in love with him suddenly didn't feel as scary anymore.

🧡▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎🌙▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎🧡

Part three is coming soon~

[dykeomania]

ellie williams deserves to go to a pride parade,

a run-on-sentence-ramble it's corny liiike i'm not even writing i'm just daydreaming and giggling oh my god i love queer joy we oooouuutsssiiiiiiiiiideeeee

and to wear the ugliest fucking adam-sandler-ass-outfit that the world has literally ever seen. i'm talking like.. reebok club c's. nike socks, rolled all the way up. oakley sunglasses on her head that she stole from that one abby bitch who rows crew. jorts, with a carabiner, looped on her outermost left belt buckle (a big ass contradiction if ykwim because mind you, she's also wearing an oversized ass t-shirt that reads in the largest lettering known to man: quote, I LET FEMMES TOP ME!, end quote). she deserves to be grumpy while riley takes forever to get ready (she's like almost done, she's just doing her edges) and to vehemently protest against cat who promises that she won't draw a dick on ellie's face but that she just really really wants to put glitter on her cheeks 'cause she thinks it'll look cute. she deserves to have her eyes light up at the sight of her lover, and sit up straighter from the comfort of her manspread once she realizes that she's coming this way. deserves to reel her in by her matching carabiner (also on the left side -- someone's llyiiinnnggg), and tell her that she looks cute. deserves to grin up at her and coyly ask her if she looks stupid. deserves to have her face cupped, her nose softly nudged against, and to have a small ..mmnnn..nnyyyeah murmured against her lips. deserves to tell her lover to shut the fuck up through a snicker and to -- amidst the disgust of the audience behind y'all -- take a second to just swim in the remnants of jello shots left behind on each other's tongues -- the ones you both took earlier (at like.. 11?am?) that left hers, red, and yours, orange.

she deserves to be the first one of your group to begin walking backwards down the beginning of the parade. nevermind the seemingly infinite spawn of white gay twinks and fashion choices that are somehow.. worse! than hers -- she's facing her friends. she's giving them a look. her arm is outstretched, and her hand is holding that of her girl's who she thinks, this time, she might actually really love. she deserves to hold some $5 lemonade above her head while annoyingly shuffling her shoulders to rain on me by lady gaga, and to be clowned (mercilessly) because 1) she's catching no beat, not one and 2) i thought you didn't even wanna come, what happened? deserves to shrug her shoulders at y'all because.. well, she doesn't know. there's something about it all -- being outside, being surrounded by the energy and screams of pure happiness down the streets -- like maaaybbeee.. it warrants a change of heart. she deserves to struggle to twirl her girl over and underneath her shoulder. deserves to kiss the question clean off your cheek, and to have her chuckles blend in with your giggles while she grits the lyrics, off-key as ever and this time, directly in your ear.

she deserves to make the hike all the way to the greenery that holds drag shows, free stickers, face painting, educational pamphlets on lgbtq+ sex education, free food, outnumbered preachers, fucking larpers?!, you name it -- deserves it all. deserves to venture towards it with something cheshire on her face. with her friends by her side, and her girl against her ribcage. deserves to wonder why she is so fucking into it now. maybe she's just tipsy, or sundrunk. maybe it's the exhaust in the air, or the vibes in the streets, whatever. but honestly? maybe she's smiling so fucking hard because this is just, plain and simple, right where she's supposed to be.

:)

[randomsillyfangirl]

Actress - Pablo Gavi x Reader

If alot of people like this- I'll write a part two with the exs reaction <3

Background: You, Y/N L/N, had broken up with your controlling and manipulative boyfriend, (ex boyfriend) who was one of the most successful male singers of Spain. While you were the youngest most successful actress of Spain. You were never seen in public without your boyfriend before you two split up. Why? He didn't like people seeing you, he accepted it in film buy couldn't when the paparazzi was involved.

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

When you broke up with (ex boyfriend), you decided to go out with your friends. Multiple different friends, each time multiple photos were taken of you. It actually wasn't bad, even when there was s crowed around you- you always felt as if you missed this experience of being famous plus you liked the attention.

Y/N L/N CAUGHT IN PUBLIC WITHOUT (ex boyfriend) DOES THIS MEAN SHE'S SINGLE AGAIN!?

Images were posted all over social media, on every news company, every tiktok and Instagram post from Spain seemed to be about you. Multiple of your friends reposted the pictures with you onto their accounts. ( sorry if you don't like the celebrities I'm using, you can use your imagination lol. And ik all these celebrities aren't Spanish or in Spain, but it's a fan fiction so 🤷‍♀️ ignore the like numbers, I literally just smashed my keyboard lol)

And a certain football player, you had a secret crush on saw all the posts, and smiled when he heard you might be single. Who's that football player? Pablo Gavi of Barça <3

" y/n l/n!! What's your relationship status? " one reporter asked while you were out with (your favorite celebrity). You smiled and faced the reporter, " single. Me and (ex boyfriend) broke up last week, now I'm just hanging out with friends." you said and then walked away with your friends, smiling and giggling.

Meanwhile, the Barça players were finishing training and Pablo heard the interview and smiled. Pedri noticed and said, " is it about y/n? We all know you have a crush on her. " and the rest of Barça laughed. Gavi scoffed, " she's single. What do you think I should do? " . His teammates all explained how he should shoot his shot- the worse that'll happen id simple rejection. But how..?

You kept on going out. Breakfast with (celeb), lunch with (celeb), dinner with (celeb), drinks with (celeb). You were finally having fun with friends. One of your friends, (celeb), told you about the young famous people of Spain party and you obviously wanted to go.

Pablo, also got invited to this party and was getting ready for the party. And you were also getting dressed. This wasn't a fancy party, a club type party. You were wearing a red dress with some accessories and Pablo was wearing a white shirt with black cover and pants (see pictures below).

You came in with one of your friends and you immediately saw Pablo. Secretly, he'd always been your celebrity crush- even when you were with (ex boyfriend). You went up to him and sat next to him by the bar. He was stunned to see you, and honestly you were stunned with your actions.

" So, what's it like being a footballer? " you asked him. Pablo coughed, clearing his throat, " tiring sometimes, but overall fun." he said chuckling. You smiled and nodded, " you here alone? " you asked him and he noded, " lost my friend." he answered and you smiled, " I don't know where (your friend) is.. " you said laughing abit.

The two of you chatted, completely forgetting about your ex. You and Pablo even exchanged numbers. " wanna go get something to eat? This party is boring." Pablo suggested and you nodded. The pair of you went to the door and went to find a restaurant. The two of you were talking, about anything. Football , acting, aliens, music; anything.

The two of you ended up in some random pizza restaurant and shared a pizza together. Pablo and you were really getting along and Pablo tried to hold your hand, you let him smiling. You were brushing, for being such a confident actor, you were really shy naturally.

Pablo noticed and smiling, " this ok? "He asked and you nodded smiling. " it's ok, yeah." you responded, making him smile more.

[ilooklikeaburntchickenugget]

Greek Tragedy

A/N: I got this idea today and spent hours just writing this. Frat boy Steve is just such an interesting character and honestly, I think I might do more one-shot, small stories with him depending on the reception of this story. Hope you guys enjoy! Pairing: Frat!Steve Rogers x F!Reader Word count: 6,017 words Warnings: Groping/sexual assault (big trigger), swearing, mentions of hazing, alcohol

Summary: Steve's fraternity takes everything seriously (as they should). They don't mess around with anything happening to any girl on their watch. But what happens when a girl in a sorority they're close with, who happens to be the one Steve watches over, finds herself in an extremely drastic, upsetting situation?

Steve didn’t really want to be here. But he also understood the deeper importance of this whole operation set up by a group under risk management. No one here wanted any girl to get hurt, let alone one in the sorority they happened to partner with the most. A girl getting hurt at the frat party they hosted because there weren’t more precautions was Greek life suicide. It was practically a frat digging their own hole, six feet deep.

“Rogers you’re on-“

“Y/N.” He finished before Sam could finish his own sentence. It was the same girl for every event, something that he had grown fond of the more he had gotten to know you. Not that you really needed him, the feisty little thing you were. Most of the time when a “problem” came up (AKA a random guy harassing you) you stood up for yourself with ease. Quick remarks and a heavily judgmental face were all you needed to fend off most guys.

His fondness of you would have not been known, however, if it wasn’t for Bucky in the corner with a smirk on his face staring at Steve, and in return guys around him catching on with small smiles at Steve. He really had to hold back a eye roll, knowing that would only entertain them more.

“Again, if you need to go do something where you can’t see the girl you’re assigned to, you ask another brother. Got it?” Everyone replied with a simple “got it” somewhat out of sequence. “Now don’t fuck up tonight. Some of you have gotten way too close to losing a girl. Don’t let it happen.” Everyone nodded. “Meeting adjourned.”

Steve got up similarly with Sam, gathering up the papers that outlined this meeting. Bucky made his way over, filing through the various guys either talking, heading towards the door, or up to their rooms. Despite the whole idea of “brotherhood” no one ever thought of helping Sam and Steve clean up after these, excluding Bucky. “You guys ready for tonight?” Bucky asked. Sam was quick to speak up.

“Never.” He replied, “I swear if I see one more drunk girl on our porch sobbing over her ex-boyfriend I’m going to resign.” Steve chuckled. “Hey, don’t be laughing when you always get the easy one to deal with.”

“Yeah, Y/N actually helps those girls. Makes our lives easier.”

Steve could recall many times you happened to be at their parties, walking outside to get a breath of fresh air. You were always overwhelmingly kind to the pledges they had on “this door is not an entrance duty”, sometimes even aiding them in telling guys to fuck off. Then you would inevitably see a girl on the ground crying her heart out, and not only offer your time but usually your lap to let her cry into. Steve recalls one time when you actually got thrown up on by another one of your sorority sisters who was going through an awful breakup with a guy who didn’t deserve to see the light of day after all the shit he pulled on her. That ended with you in his room with a pair of his sweatpants and one of his t-shirts on.

“Thanks again, Steve.” You said with a smile so big it gave away any indication of soberness. “These sweatpants are very comfy.” He smiled softly back at you.

“Any time.” He replied, “I wasn’t gonna have you walking around in those clothes.” You nodded at him.

“Could I stay up here for another minute or two?” You asked, “I don’t mean to intrude but I’m kinda overwhelmed with downstairs-“ He nodded before you could even finish your sentence. His room happened to be incredibly well kept for a frat guy, especially since it actually smelled decent. A made bed, clean desk, the only clutter were the piles of text books stacked in a corner and a couple different papers here and there.

“Of course.” He replied quickly. You nodded back, “Do you need water or anything?”

“A water would be great actually if you wouldn’t mind.”

“Of course not,” He smiled, “I’ll be right back, stay put sweetheart.”

It was the sweetheart that really took your breath away. I mean, Steve had always been the type that was just pure eye candy. Every girl left and right at least acknowledged that they would like to have something with him through small moments when their eyes laser-focused on him. Some even being drawn closer to where he stood, typically near a wall talking to Bucky or Sam with a drink in his hand. But here he was acknowledging some form of admiration towards little old you. The girl who was found at parties and was secretly looking at guys, but was too busy with her friends to realize it wasn’t that they didn’t like her back, she just never gave any signals.

That night ended up with the two of you staying in his room and talking until the early morning hours when you finally declared that you needed to go back to your apartment, especially while your roommates were flooding your phone with every form of communication to make sure you were okay. Steve was quick to order you a car and pay for it, even after offering to have you stay in his bed and he would take the couch. But you were sobering up and knew going home was a better option. Sleeping in the bed of the guy you happened to really like was enticing, but far too quick for you.

“How many guys do we think we’ll let in tonight?” Bucky asked. He happened to pretty consistently be on entrance duty, considering he could quickly put on a harsh and powering demeanor to tell guys to leave and never come back if he needed to.

“Hopefully not many,” Sam replied with a sigh, “Let in any guy that you know, and depending on how many girls we have, let in a couple more. But you already know the ratio.” “75 to 25.” Bucky smiled a bit, leaning against the doorframe to the chapter room.

Steve was placing the final folding chairs in the closet of the room, the key in his pocket ready to lock up. “You sure you doing alright?” He heard Bucky come up behind him. It just happened that Bucky knew Steve better than he knew himself at times, a blessing and curse the two of them had learned to live with through their years together.

“Yeah.” Steve nodded, grabbing the key from his pocket and turning it in the lock. Giving it one solid pull and the door not budging, Steve placed the key back in his pocket and began walking towards the stairs, Bucky right next to him.

“Ya sure? You seem a little nervous.” Steve held back a scoff that would have worked on anyone else, but not Bucky.

“Not sure nervous is the right word.” Steve countered, checking the time quickly on his watch. Two hours til doors opened.

“About Y/N?” Bucky asked. Steve sighed.

“She’s-“ He began, stopping himself as his thoughts were running in all different directions. “Buck, you know I’m not good with women.”

“Yeah, and you’re into a girl who doesn’t think she’s good with men.” He softly chuckled, Steve scrunching his eyebrows. “Trust me, I’ve talked to enough of the girls when they’re drunk and I’ve heard all about her drunk thoughts. She has no confidence with men.”

“She’s stunning.”

“I know, but women get called ugly once and it’s all over, man.” Bucky explained as the two began to head up the stairs, “Just be genuine, not over pushy, just nice and respectful. She thinks any attractive guy that talks to her is doing it as a joke.”

“She seems so confident.”

“She is until it comes to men.” Bucky said, “Trust me on this, I’ve had three different drunk girls in that sorority tell me the same thing. But they’ve also told me she’s super into you. Take that for what you will.” He left down the hall towards his own room with a smile.

Steve had his eyes on you from the moment you walked in. Fashionably late as always, and clearly having pregamed a decent bit, or else you wouldn’t be dancing so freely and up against a friend like no one was watching. He was hoping no one was, but him.

That damn tight crop top really pushed your breasts up to a point where he questioned if one wrong move would even hold them in. And the tight shorts that shaped your figure perfectly left just enough distance covered on your upper things to wonder how they looked underneath. Your makeup was consistent and natural, except for your eyeshadow which you always put glitter on. By the end of the night your mascara would be smudged and lipstick nonexistent, and even then you made that look curated and like you were made for it.

“You gonna go talk to her or keep staring?” Sam came up with a smile, drunkenly dancing his way through the crowd. For a fraternity president, he was oddly charismatic to everyone and hadn’t established a superiority complex over the title. Steve gave him an eyeing glance.

“Letting her have her fun.” He justified.

“Hm.” Sam questioningly asked looking back at her, drawing Steve’s attention back to you as well. There was a guy clearly trying to dance with you, nearing a desperate level. You didn’t really notice until he got a little too close, which resulted in him getting a really passive aggressive look from you of pure silent judgement that was borderline screaming at him. Steve let it be. If he touched you, then it would be a problem. But Steve knew you could handle yourself, very well actually.

Sam trusted Steve, more than any other guy here. Even Bucky, who would occasionally let his guard down if a pretty enough girl came up to him. But Steve- he would completely ignore the prettiest girl in the world if it meant someone else was in trouble.

You weren’t really sure which drink you were on, but at this point you didn’t really care. The mediocre tasting seltzer in your hand had the after taste of gasoline, but it was making you feel even better than before, which was enough justification for your already intoxicated mind and body to keep drinking them. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Steve against one of the walls talking to Sam. You turned more towards that way to observe them. Steve’s tight dark blue shirt and jeans were making your mind react in only instinctual ways. A blush crept on your face making it even more red on top of your makeup and the heat from dancing shoulder to shoulder with other people. Your thighs tightened together as you bit the inside of your cheek.

But Steve Rogers was way out of your league. Whether you were drunk or sober, you knew you were simply not pretty enough to get him. Well, that’s at least what your mind was convincing you. All your friends always gawked over how gorgeous you were, and how you could pull him. But the ghost of ugly girls pasts kept you from advancing in the realm of Steve Rogers and stayed at bay with the weird barely friendship you two had established.

Besides, most guys just wanted to fuck you once and leave. Not that Steve seemed the type to do that, but you couldn’t tell nowadays with the number of guys who had said no to you after disclosing you wanted more than just sex.

“Babe!” You heard one of your friends shouting over the music. You turned to her, “Let’s get another drink!” Pulled out of your trance you nodded, grabbing her hand and weaving your way through the crevices between sweaty bodies dancing like no one was around them. You patiently waited in the line for the bar still swaying your hips back and forth to the fading music, mouthing the words you knew in the song.

A hand on your shoulder pulled you away from the mind-lifting music and into a face-to-face situation with a guy you had already dealt with tonight. Clearly, your glaring at him wasn’t enough for him to acknowledge that you had no interest in him. “What do you want?” You asked with an annoyed expression, your tone of voice accenting that.

“Damn, why are you being so mean?” He asked, “I’m just interested in you, why’re you in such a bad mood, baby?” You got a large amount of ick from the conversation alone, but the detail of ‘baby’ only set your annoyance off even more. “I don’t owe it to be nice to a guy I’ve never met,” You explained, “Let alone one who I’m not attracted to. At all.” You made it very clear. “Now if you’ll excuse me-“

“What, you got a boyfriend or something?” He snarked back, getting closer to you.

“Like that’s any of your business.” You countered, “Now fuck off because you’re not getting anything out of me, ever. I wish you luck on finding any pussy tonight, you’re definitely going to need it.” You didn’t even notice the crowd swarming around you but a sudden eruption of “oohs” took over and made you realize that you had successfully publicly humiliated another desperate guy. He gave you a look of fury and stormed off in another direction leaving his confidence and dignity in your back pocket.

Thankfully, the guy running the bar quickly recognized you. Being in a sorority had it’s many perks, but getting drinks at the bar of a frat you knew well was one of them. He immediately gave you a hefty pour and a smile, “That was badass.” He added on. You smiled back at him and took your drink, departing back to the dance floor with your friend.

As soon as you reentered, Steve had eyes on you again. You looked more annoyed than before, not an amazing sign, but according to a text he had gotten from Scott, who was bartending, you had just embarrassed a random dude in front of two dozen people flawlessly, and verbally kicked his ass. So your current state was by no means shocking.

He promptly decided this was his time to at least let you know he was here. He slowly guided his way through people, trying to not knock over girls while not really caring about the guys, and finally placed his hand on the small of your back. Bold, yes, but he didn’t want to completely startle you with a shoulder tap or yell.

“What the fuck-“ You quickly turned around with a face of once again annoyance, before realizing it was him. As soon as your eyes met his your face melted back into one of apology. “Oh my- Steve I’m so sorry!” You yelled over the music. He chuckled to himself, smiling at you.

“It’s okay,” He replied quickly, giving you a quick up and down now that he was closer to you. Your boobs somehow looked even better than before. He also had the realization that red truly was your color, it looked amazing with your skin tone and hair, and even better when it was tightly wrapped fabric around your chest. “I heard what happened at the bar, I understand.”

You groaned loudly, “So everyone saw that?”

“Not everyone, but a lot of people.” He smirked. “It’s alright, keep it up and we may just have to make you an honorary member.”

“Will I have to pledge?” You asked with a small smile, “That may be a deal breaker.”

“I would never let a woman go through what the pledges go through,” He explained, “Let alone a pretty one.” It just slipped out. You tried to hide the shock in your eyes with a smile on your face, but your brain was clearly malfunctioning when you heard that. “If you need anything tonight, you know where to find me.” He said, motioning towards the wall right next to the main entrance to the floor. You nodded as he gave you one more smile and left back to that area.

“He wants you so bad.” One of your friends quickly spoke up with a big smile, “His eyes were all over you, they were practically undressing you!”

“Yeah, that’s probably all he wants.” You replied knowing how guys were nowadays with relationships.

“Oh please, that’s Steve Rogers. Yeah, he could get whatever girl he wants, but the one he actually wants he’s gonna stay with.” She replied, “He’s the definition of a golden retriever, absolutely gorgeous and loyal as hell.”

Steve knew something was coming. His intuition read the room he was in and told him there was going to be something tonight. There was every night, it was just more a question of how drastic it was going to be. Judging by the fact the guys not in the frat were getting rowdy, the number of girls who had run past him with a friend to puke in the bathroom, and the growing line outside of underage first years who were apparently trying to start stuff with the door guys, it was just a matter of time until something boiled over its pot and into flames.

“What’s up?” He asked Sam who approached him with a stern face. Unlike earlier, soberness seemed to consume Sam as he stood next to Steve.

“Too many bastards harassing girls.” He sighed. “None with any of our girls that seriously, yet.” He emphasized. Steve nodded, going back to eyeing everyone on the dance floor, his eye now more narrowly looking than before. “Not sure how you could show up to someone’s else fraternity and be a dick like that. We don’t even do that in our own house.” Steve didn’t have a response for that question, but even if he did he was far too busy making sure any of the girls he knew didn’t find themselves in that situation. Specifically, you.

“Have we stopped letting guys in?” Steve asked, not changing his gaze away from the crowd.

“Yeah, a while back.” Sam replied, “A lot of them have been here since we opened though.” Steve chuckled.

“Desperation.” He smiled at Sam and Sam smiled back.

“Yeah, we got a lot of that tonight.” Sam sighed, turning over to the two of three couples of sorts making out in various corners. “Wish I had that much absence of dignity.” Steve smiled at that. If he was going to do anything with a woman it would never be this public. Two people were meant to have those moments together, not have the world there to frown down on it or comment on it. In his mind, this frayed some of the little purity left in relationships.

“Fuck,” He heard Sam mutter besides him, glancing at his phone. Steve gave him a questioning look, “Apparently the guys outside have made the mistake of not backing off of Barnes, gotta go aid.” Steve nodded as Sam departed the other way.

Steve’s heart sank as soon as he looked back to the floor and spotted you. The guy from earlier tonight, and the one he assumed had tried to talk to you at the bar, was now way too close to comfort. Within a second, Steve had begun navigating the floor knowing the loser wouldn’t leave you alone until someone else came in. His mind was busy with finding you, but his body was distracted by trying to get by people. Despite the fact he was known here, and the mass space his body took up, everyone was far too drunk to even take a slight hint he was there.

“Are you fucking crazy?” He heard a yell that he could easily identify was your voice. That cry for help put his mind in overdrive, and onto aggressive autopilot. Now he was shoving dudes left and right and could give a shit if he stepped on some girl's shoes. As soon as he found you, there was a small circle around you and the guy as you fired off insult after insult berating him. Steve was still lost at what was fully happening, or more importantly how the situation had escalated to where it stood now, but that was very quickly revealed in your unapologetic monologue.

“What the fuck made you think it was okay to grab my ass you dick!” Before Steve could even process fully what you had said, the clearly clueless culprit across from you responded, somehow thinking that was a good idea.

“With the shorts you’re wearing you’re basically asking for it!”

Now that set Steve off.

All you could see at this point was red, but before you even got a chance to slap this guy, he was pinned up against a wall. There was some yelling in the background calling for backup or something along those lines, but all you could focus on was Steve’s back flexing under his shirt that was far too tight for this moment and the side of his face showcasing a clenched jaw bone protruding past his skin and redefining his face into pure rage. “What the fuck did you just say to her?” He asked, holding onto the collarbone of the guys t-shirt in clenched fists, veins about to pop.

For the first time all night, the harassing dick was left truly speechless. “Say it one more time to me, huh? I fucking dare you.” Steve started again.

“Steve, let him go.” Sam’s voice bellowed behind you. It was an order, and one that took Steve a moment to process. He slowly dropped the guy and backed up only a step, letting him regain him place standing against the wall. He looked tiny compared to Steve. “He’s not worth it.” Sam said, approaching besides him. “Now you, get the fuck out and never come back.” Sam told the other guy, pointing firmly towards the door.

He seemingly put his hands up in surrender, before making yet again a dumb move. Possibly his most stupid of the night. “It was worth it.”

Not even a second later, the guy was on the floor, clutching his face as the crowd around you “ooh”ed yet again. This time not for you, but Steve. His right fist clung to his side as it had just been weaponized across the guy’s face and straight into his cheek and nose. The impact could be heard from the back of the room you bet, and left you speechless, mouth agape as you stared at your perpetrator on the floor, and back to Steve.

“Barnes, take Y/N upstairs. Now.” He looked back to where Bucky stood a few feet from you, he quickly nodded beelining to you and putting his arm around your waist.

“You alright, hon?” Bucky asked, but you were too entranced still with looking back at Steve. Despite Bucky moving you away and your feet following, you still stared back at Steve with the same expression of worry and surprise. It clearly took Steve a minute to figure out what exactly he had done, then he turned back to you.

As soon as your eyes met, his face relaxed. His brain was still furious, his body stiff with rage, but his face was now worried. He was able to at least know you would be safe with Bucky, you would either end up in his room or Steve’s, but either way you would be physically okay now. Then he turned back to Sam who already had guys escorting whatever the fuck he was out with firm shoves. “I need to check on her.” Was the first thing he could muster out and say.

“Calm down, Steve.” Sam tried to rationalize. “She’s with Buck, she’s okay.”

“I need to see her.” He said again.

“Steve,” Sam grabbed his arm this time, trying to pull him back to reality. “Go downstairs. Breath. Then come back and I’ll see what I can do.”

It took Steve another moment to process what Sam was saying, his vision still outlined with red. As soon as he understood, however, he nodded and made his way to the door. He couldn’t even bother to look at nor care about everyone staring at him, bodies making a very clear path for him to get by. He made it to the stairs, walking down slowly. The basement was empty, he was glad they kept it that way. There were a few old recliners here and there, a partially ripped couch, and some old photo albums and collages of pictures stacked in various places.

He took a seat in one of the old leather chairs, placing his head in his hands. He was always composed, had a clean record here from everything. He didn’t have an ounce of regret, at least yet, but he was aware of how escalated he made the situation. Though he wouldn’t change any moment of it. Other than protecting you from that happening in the first place.

He just wanted- needed you to be okay. He needed you. He had never acted this way with anyone else. Yes, he would stand up for any girl. But he wasn’t sure if he would fight for any girl other than you.

“Peter, water. Now.” Bucky demanded the smaller guy who stood in the doorway. He feverishly nodded before running off past the doorway and towards the stairs.

“Pledge?” You asked Bucky. He smiled.

“How did you know.” You lightly laughed, sitting on his bed in his slightly messy room. It was actually very nice for a frat room, but for a regular room, subpar. His walls were decorated here and there with nearly nude women who either had advanced plastic surgery or had a poor editor somewhere slaving over Photoshop for hours to make them look better than Barbie. His bed was honestly not all that comfy, and you wouldn’t have been shocked if the mattress under the comforter and sheets had been hand-me-down in the frat for years.

“How are you feeling?” He asked with genuine concern.

“Alright,” You said with a shaky breath, “Just- shocked, I think.” He softly smiled, kneeling down in front of you to be on your eye level.

“Can I get you anything else? I can order you food, if you wanna lay down that’s fine too-"

“No, Buck. It’s okay, really.” You lightly smiled. You had suddenly very much sobered up. “Maybe food in a bit. Though I don’t know how much I can eat right now.” He sympathetically nodded. The room fell silent for a few seconds. “Where’s Steve?” You asked. Before Bucky could even acknowledge what you had asked, Peter came back.

“Here’s the water for you,” He said handing to Bucky, “James Buchanan Barnes.” You had to hold back a laugh as Peter exited the room again. Bucky handed you the water.

“Do you really make pledges call you guys by your full names?” Bucky nodded with a small smile.

“Tradition.” You rolled your eyes at that. “Steve is downstairs I think, basement.” Bucky replied, “That’s where Sam sends guys when they need to calm down.”

“So this shit happens frequently?”

“No, and you know that.” He playfully said back, sitting next to you on the bed. “But sometimes stuff happens between guys. So it's a decompression area. Not much down there, so it’s nice if anyone needs to punch something.” You nodded.

Another minute of silence fell between the two of you. You sipping the water from the red solo cup, Bucky looking around the room and back at you every once in a while.

“You know Steve really likes you.” Bucky pointed out. You gave him a confused face. “He would kill me for telling you, probably will. But he really likes you, more than any other girl I’ve seen. And I’ve seen lots of women around him.”

“You’re joking.” You replied, “That’s cruel, Bucky."

“No, I would not lie to you.” He replied seriously, “Especially after tonight.” You looked up at him again, eyes meeting in a silent lock of sorts. “Just trust me, give him a chance. I know you like him too. Be the first move, it’ll pay off. Trust me.”

There was a soft knock at the door, its hinges creaking as it opened and Sam walked in. He gave you a soft smile. “We wrapped up the party.” Sam said, “Not many people left over down there anyways.” You cringed a bit to yourself, but before you could say anything Sam continued, “And don’t you dare apologize, it’s not your fault. At all.”

Bucky’s hand grazed your back in a circular motion, a silent agreement with Sam. “You can wait in his room if you want,” Sam mentioned, “Or stay here.”

“No, I want to see him.” You replied, “I can uh- head over there.” You told Sam, getting up and turning to Bucky where he still sat. “Thanks again, Bucky. Really.”

“Least I could do.” He insisted with a tight smile, “Good luck.”

Sam led you to Steve’s room even though you already knew where it was. His was a corner room, vice president privileges you supposed. He opened it with a spare key, letting you in and turning on the light. It was kept as it always was. It smelled like soft cologne that didn’t sting the corner of your nostrils when you inhaled. Like mahogany, whiskey, and a hint of vanilla. What he always smelled like.

His bed was strictly made, making you hesitant to sit on it despite Sam telling you it was more than fine. It would crease it, and you weren’t sure if that was more of an invasion than what you had already been. The bed was shockingly comfortable, clearly a new mattress and topper. His closet doors were closed, and a laundry hamper next to it was only half full. His desk was clear except for a lamp in the corner, a closed laptop in the center, and a notebook next to that with two or three pens. His walls were pretty bare, which honestly made you feel uncomfortable. You thought it was better than Bucky’s walls scattered with various unrealistically perfect and nearly naked women, but the walls in the bedroom of your apartment were scattered with posters and pictures.

He had exactly three pictures in the room. One on his nightstand of him, Sam, and Bucky with arms around each other and smiling on some form of a retreat or vacation. One of him and Bucky as little kids, no older than six or seven you guessed. And finally, one of him and his mom at some fancy event judging by her dress and his suit. He looked to be in late high school there.

He looked a lot like his mom. Blonde hair, blue eyes. Her face was much softer than his, which made sense judging by how muscular his body frame was built to be. She had a beautiful blue dress on that accented both of them well, him in a simple suit with a black coat, white shirt, and black tie. You knew he loved his mom dearly, especially since he was raised as a child with just her. You recall during one of those late night conversations it coming up. He talked so highly of his mom, the way he still called her multiple times a week just to talk and check in. Her food and the traditions the two had made for Christmas and Thanksgiving when they spent it alone. How much he hated leaving her for college, feeling like he abandoned her, but her reassuring messages over the phone saying anything but that. You wished you had a relationship like that with your mom, but then again, you had an amazing dad. You win some, you lose some, as you had always reminded yourself.

You were drawn away from your stare towards the photo on his desk as the door opened, and there stood Steve. His face was unreadable, something that scared you in the moment. “Hey, um I’m sorry, Sam suggested I wait here for you-"

Before you finished he was kneeling in front of you as Bucky did not so long ago meeting your eyes. “Are you okay?” He asked with such a genuine tone. His hand placed itself on your cheek, engulfing it. You nodded with a small smile.

“Yeah, I will be.” He took a small sigh looking down.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there earlier.”

“Steve, no-“ You were quick to reply as he stood up.

“No, that should’ve never happened. And I should’ve been there to throw that guy out way earlier.”

“Steve, you did more than I could’ve asked for-“

“You shouldn’t have to ask me to do anything. I should be there to protect you, be proactive about it-"

You quickly stood up, interrupting his rant by grabbing his face with your hands and pulling him down as you stood on your tip toes to your best ability, placing your lips on his.

For a moment he was frozen, before realizing what was happening and kissing back. He quickly took one of his arms fallen at his side and wrapped it behind your waist, pulling you promptly so your body fell flush with his, pressed against his shirt. His other hand found the back of your head, running his fingers through your hair as one of yours found its way to his own. After a solid 10 seconds, you pulled away a bit, looking up at him as you caught your breath.

“I’m not drunk, I promise.” You told him, watching his wandering eyes scan your face. Without a word of response, he placed his lips on yours again moving synchronously. You reveled in the moment, feeling his body heat surround you, your senses at all new heights, his wandering finger tips on your back causing you to move even closer to him, a sign of encouragement. After a minute or two of the necessity of a make up session, a silent reconciliation and agreement that everything would be alright, you both pulled away.

Both of you smiled at the same time, then laughing a bit at that, and finally finding comfort in each other’s arms. “Can we talk about this tomorrow?” You asked him. He looked down to you again with a small smile creeping on his face.

“Yeah,” He replied, “Tomorrow.”

Without a word more spoken, you sat back on his bed, removing your beer and dirt-stained shoes, he went to his dresser and grabbed one of his t-shirts and sweatpants, handing them to you. “I can change in the bathroom.” He insisted. You gave a small smile of appreciation as he left the room with his own change of clothes and closed the door.

You quickly removed the constricting top that had nearly become one with your skin, placing his shirt on and sweatpants. He came back with a knock, you replying with a “you can come in”.

He let you choose the side of the bed you wanted, which happened to be the one closer to the window. He climbed in next to you, allowing the small lamp in the corner to stay on but turning off the one next to him. There was distance at first, quickly closed by you as you rejected the pillow on your side for his chest, placing your head on it, one of your hands sprawling to the other side of him. He placed one of his hands on your back, pulling you tighter and beginning to trace small shapes on the fabric and to your skin. He gave you a soft kiss on your temple, holding it there for a few seconds.

“Goodnight, sweetheart.”

[asherthehimbo]

Always Black Cats And Bitter Coffee: Chapter 5 [part 1]

Chapter 5 [part 1] : I've found you

[Next -> CHAPTER 5: part 2]

warning: panic attacks, self-harm (previous self harm scars and reader scratching themselves during the panic attack), Sanni, blood, scars, crying, bleeding lip/ biting, very unreal discriptons of panic atta k/ calming someone down during a panic attack

note: I honestly didn't know how to write this chapter, ive had my fair share of Anxiety attacks, but never a full blown panic attack and therefore I'm not a reliable source for these topics. This chapter is a bit rushed, but that is because I just wanted to get it out before writing the actual written conversation that I've been looking forward to.

After getting the text from Mei Minho started running, he doesn't think he's ever ran this fast before and in the back of his mind something is telling him this isn't the last time he's gonna need to.

Reaching the Café he stopped right before the door, locking eyes with a pink haired woman. She just stood off to the side of the see-through doors, no beverage in her hand. Just staring at Minho, he didn't have time to question it. He burst through the door, running to the back of the cafè where Mei was standing before the door.

“What happened?” Minho asked her. He was angry, she could tell. “I don't know he's been off all day, quiet and fidgety, then suddenly he just bolted to the backroom and when I went after him I just saw him hunched over and hyperventilating, you're the only person I knew how to reach” Mei supplied stepping aside to let Minho inside. He grabbed the doorknob but before he could enter Mei grabbed his hand “Calm down I might not know much about how to handle a panic attack but I know you busting in there won't help” She was right, and it pissed Minho off, nevertheless he took a deep breath as he walked into the room.

Walking into the room, he wished he could take that breath again. All air was caught in his through, before him was you, on the ground. You, one of the sweetest, strongest people Minho has had the pleasure of meeting. Sat on the floor in the corner, knees to your chest, shoulders hunched over as if to make yourself smaller, your shirt had been ripped open, you were hyperventilating and sobbing and muttering things Minho couldn't hear, how you were still breathing was beyond Minho because at the pace you were going you would pass out any moment.

Minho jumped forward, maybe not the best decision when in a room with someone in the middle of a panic attack, but he was desperate to get to you fast. He gripped your wrist in his hands, a desperate attempt to stop you from scratching your neck. Blood coated your fingernails, scratchmarks all along your neck and collarbone, your eyes shot up to Minho, tear tracks on your face, lips broken and bleeding from how they had been bitten.

“Blue, sweetie, It's me, Min, it's okay, I need you to breathe for me, Can you breathe?” Minho asked you, although he doesn't think you registered his words, you were thrashing against his hold, still trying to scratch yourself. “Get it off, it burns, please min get it off, get her off please, get her off, get her off, GET HER OFF” you had stopped hyperventilating, but you were screaming now, desperately sobbing for Minho to get something off you. “Blue, nobody's here except me, I need you to calm down. Nothing's on you. There's nobody on you.” Minho spoke softly.

You started shaking, “you shouldn't be here, she'll see you, shell come for you, please,” you were tired, Minho would have been two, this had been going on for about 5 minutes before he had arrived and he couldn't imagine the emotional stress that could have caused this.

You had seemed to calm down as Minho kept softly talking to you. Your breathing became labored and vision blurry. After a few minutes, when you had become lucid enough to realize there was nobody except Minho here, he had taken you into his arms, cuddling you as he sat cross-legged. He placed one hand on your waist and rubbed circles with his thumb, trying to ignore the bumps of skin he was feeling. Getting distracted now wouldn't work in his favor.

Half an hour later, Mei had peeked her head into the room, and you were asleep in Minho's arms. He had softly asked her to bring him a wet cloth so that he could clean you up, and she obeyed.

After he was given the material, he gently moved you, trying his best not to wake you. He didn't let his eyes wander down to where his thumbs had previously rested. He couldn't.

He cleaned your neck, then your hands, the scratchmarks didn't look as bad now that most of the dried blood had been cleaned off.

Minho swears he tried, but when his work was done, he couldn't help but let his eyes wander. Located on the side of your hip was a mark eerily similar to the one on his arm, the only difference being that all around you was self-inflicted marks, of different sizes, and leveled of healing. The only part of your waist left untouched was the tattoo.

The tattoo that signified you were his soulmate. Minho didn't even know he was crying until one of his tears fell onto your face. He brought you closer, hugging you to his chest. “I found you…. My love, i've found you” he whispered, placing a kiss on your hair. He relished in the way you snuggled closer into him in your sleep

You had a lot to talk about, and god Minho was worried about you, his mind was racing with a thousand thoughts, but right now all he could do was hold you in his arms as he silently cried, a bittersweet smile on his face.

For the past 2 months, he's felt guilty for his growing feelings, only for you to prove he didn't need to be. He would wait for you to wake up, but then you would need to have a serious conversation. Minho just hopes this one would have a good ending.

abc ×2 masterlist | Soulbound masterlist | Stray kids masterlist

Current Taglist[6/30]: @i-dont-know-me-either @gaysontheprince @skzhoes @xavi-in-kpopland @moonlight-894 @foxilsdenn

note: and so we begin😈

[arsoooooonmun]

The Last Time.

An Abby Anderson "The Last Time" by Taylor Swift inspired one-shot AU

Reader is in her mid 20's, but this doesn't have any mature scenes.

Avoided the use of Y/N.

Abby might be OOC in some dialouges.

There are no specific features of the reader because this is just pure angst. :))

hehe grammar might not be oh-so-good bear with me plz 😘🤞

enjoy . (i cried while writing this)

AUTHORS NOTE: Hi! I know I just ghosted the very first work of mine (SHOT), but I had a huge reason for it: I am busy. (I actually got lazy and was mentally unready for the amount of notes that the social media au I posted got. I also was burned out from those types of au, so.... have this. A one-shot.)

Abby didn't notice it at first. She thought it was all normal. Burn-outs are normal in a relationship, aren't they?

Sure, the relationship was rocky at first because Abby told you in the first place that she wasn't ready for commitment, but she told you, "I'll do my best for you."

Now, you just feel like gaslighting your way out of this place because you are so suffocated in the room that was once a home for you, but now, you wish nothing but to leave.

She never told you that within that phrase, you had to sacrifice yourself too.

Three years had passed ever since you two were official. The first two years were fun, laughing while looking at the sunset — staring at her freckles when she smiled so hard while talking about your memories together.

And now they're all going just to be memories.

It's a Friday night, and Abby was supposed to be free. Abby was a neurosurgeon, and yes, the work is hard, but aren't you working hard too while also making the time for her?

And god forbid, but you hoped she didn't forget that it's your fourth year together. You wished that she didn't forget your anniversary again.

You called her and texted her again and again, but nothing. Three hours and it's now 2am, your anniversary has now passed.

Your tears were flowing and clenched hard on your shirt. It was a simple request, you decorated the whole place, and you asked her to come home early since she is off at work at 9 pm.

You weren't that hard to please, a bouquet of flowers, a box of chocolates — heck even a simple letter will make you understand her.

Still nothing.

And now Abby just opened the door.

Looking at her walk, she was drunk.

She forgot it again.

Abby didn't even notice you sitting on the couch.

"Oh, I don't know you are still awake." Abby told you once she noticed you. Your hurt crushed with the thought that she didn't even tell you why she was late and drunk.

"Abby, do you even know what time it is?" With all your remaining patience and love, you hid your disappointment and tried to understand.

"Sorry, me and my workmates decided to drink. It's just a fun refreshment." Abby looked around and noticed the balloons scattered on the floor.

"Why are there balloons? Did anyone even think of cleaning up? Were your friends here?"

Your eyes widen and tears started streaming down your face again.

"It's our fucking anniversary, Anderson." Your words were filled with anger. It was heart-wrenching, you wanted to puke right then and there, is Abby even your girlfriend anymore?

Does she even love you anymore?

It seems like cold water has washed over Abby, and she looked at you with wide eyes.

"Oh my god, I am sorry, darling —" You cut her off before she had the chance to continue her apology with the same reasons again.

You sighed loud enough and looked down. "I am done, Abby."

"I am done with us. Let's break up."

Abby's face froze all over, you couldn't see it and you shouldn't because you know deep inside you'll take your words back but then, you'll hurt yourself all over again.

And you were honestly tired.

"I can't bear the thought that you can just say sorry and then hurt me all over again. God fucking dammit Abby, this isn't even the first time you forgot an occasion about us. You fucking forgot my birthday last year and this year. And you know what? I forgave you because you were working that day. But do you also know that all of your birthdays were as special as mine for me? I took a day off to celebrate your birthday on that place you wished so badly to visit, and you remember what you did? You fucking yelled at me telling me you can't just take a day out of your work and even scolded me for using MY money. MY hard work earned money to make YOU happy." You cried your heart out, and the tone of your voice was filled with pure anger.

"You told me you never asked for that much, then what do you think what love is?" Your voice cracked and you clenched your fists.

"Do you even know how painful it was that you can never love me the same way as I love you, but have you even thought of doing something for me?" Abby's hands were now shaking, thinking what to do.

She never saw you this way. Abby never wished to see you and hurt you this way.

But she did, and she knew nothing could ever fix this, and that slapped her into the reality that she never deserved the love that you gave her.

The warm hugs that washed all her problems away, and your smiles that made her think of what life was all about.

Abby will lose it — she lost it the moment she entered the room without thinking of how important you were to her.

An apology will never fix this.

All that can fix this is letting you decide what will happen between you two. Abby knew she'll be left alone in this cold apartment you both called home before.

Frustration and guilt filled Abby's body. She lost you, and she didn't know what to do with herself. She didn't know which move to take while you were in front of her, you were not even looking at her way and waiting for her response.

Does Abby even deserve to tear up? Knowing she was the reason why the both of you are in this situation right now. Why did she lose the person that she needed the most?

How can she ever live with this memory of you crying because of her? And losing herself and you in the process?

"I—" You couldn't look at Abby, who finally spoke. Abby immediately clenched her hands on her chest, and tears were pouring all over her freckles and cheeks that you once kissed.

"Is that.. is that what you want?" You swallowed, and it finally kicked in that this was real. Abby is in front of you and was asking if breaking up was what you wanted. "Is that what you need?" Your heart crushed even more, thinking that Abby was probably loathing herself from the thought that you needed to go away from her to heal.

But it is — it is what you need.

"Yes." One word, one word that once made you and Abby smile. That one word that made you both official is also the reason why the formed sweet memories turned them into dust.

Abby felt her whole world collapsing. You don't need her anymore. She can't watch you while having fun, running towards the sun while on the beach, singing songs wholeheartedly on a random roadtrip, and she could never kiss those lips of yours that made her feel special.

She can't ask for your hand, can't hold you close, and can never make you love her all over again.

Nothing can reach the pain that is creeping inside both of your hearts.

"Okay." That was all Abby could say despite all of the words that were running on her mind.

"If that's what you want — what you need. Then, I'll give it." You felt so weak, so vulnerable, and Abby knew you hated that.

"I know my apologies wouldn't ever fix the pain I gave you. Your courage of telling me that was enough to make me think of how long you were enduring this." Abby sighed deep and was stopping herself from kneeling, begging you to come back because she knew you won't be able to hold back from holding her no matter how painful it was for you.

She never had the chance to take back whatever she had done, never able to make you feel the way you made her feel, and that is what will ghost her for the rest of her life reminiscing you.

"I love you. I really do, and I am sorry I wasn't able to show it because of how stubborn I was thinking you would understand with all of my work, and you did. And I fucking wish you didn't."

"You sacrificed a lot of things for me, and I — I can't even remember to celebrate your birthday and our anniversary." You finally looked at Abby, and she was crying. She was shaking her head, and you saw her trying her best to let out all of her frustrations.

"You deserve better. It sucks because it's true, and I wasn't able to be the best for you because all I thought was me. I was selfish. You weren't, and god, I hope someone will love you — " Abby was hating herself with the thought of someone loving you better than she ever did. All she hoped before was to be someone you can rely yourself to and now she is hoping you will never meet someone like her again.

"I hope that someday, someone will love you how you deserved to be love because that was what you did to me, and it hurts that I never made you feel that way." You sat down the couch, processing all of her words, and you cried. You both cried hard — knowing that she was right.

"I am so glad that I met you and to show how much I love you,"

Abby looked into your eyes.

"You can let go of us now."

[choicesseptemberchallenge2023]

[Masterlist]

Welcome to Choices September Challenge!

Hello everyone! I'm Aura (@midnightmelodiz ). This is my first time hosting this monthly challenge, so I'm really excited about it. I really hope you all will like the prompts chosen for this month.

🍁GUIDELINES🍁

This is a prompt based contest. There's a prompt given for everyday, using which you'll have to create a content. Some days have multiple prompts, and different types of prompts. Feel free to use them all in the same work if you want.

You can use multiple prompt for the same work if the prompts are for same day. Don't mix and match prompts from different days.

Almost all kind of contents are acceptable. List of acceptable contents : fanfictions, drabbles, short-story/one-shot , poetry, microtale, art, mood board, theme, banner or other graphics etc.

Work based on any book from the Choices universe are welcome.

Submitted works will be featured on a weekly masterlist.

You can participate as many times as you want throughout the month.

Multiple entries for the same prompt, or same day prompts are allowed.

If your work contains NSFW/mature or triggering content, please use appropriate warning.

Mention/list the prompt(s) you are using in your content.

If possible, in stories, drabbles etc., write the prompt(s) in bold.

You can use the tag #choicesseptemberchallenge2023 & #choicesmonthlychallenge .

Please tag @choicesseptemberchallenge2023, feel free to tag me too : @midnightmelodiz . You can dm me your entries as well since Tumblr glitches a lot. Honestly I'd prefer if you dm your works, as Tumblr tags don't always work.

If I don't mention your work in the weekly masterlist, please send me a dm with the link.

🍂PROMPTS🍂

🍁 DAY 1 : Memories •||• "I can't be who you want me to be"

🍁 DAY 2 : Stars •||• Two people who keep crossing paths but miss actually meeting.

🍁 DAY 3 : Sea, Ocean •||• "You really like it?" "No, I was kidding."

🍁 DAY 4 : Moonlight, Moon •||• They have been secretly in love with each other for a long time.

🍁 DAY 5 : Diary, Journal, Notebook •||• "We're here now. Everything's alright."

🍁 DAY 6 : Dreams, Day Dream •||• "I'm in love with you!"

🍁 DAY 7 : Hope •||• Sharing something personal about them that they've never shared with anyone before.

🍁 DAY 8 : Coffee, Hot Beverage •||• "Come back! I'm not ready to get up yet. So you aren't either."

🍁 DAY 9 : Date Night •||• "I'm home, sweetheart!"

🍁 DAY 10 : Gift •||• "I care about you. I always will."

🍁 DAY 11 : Travel, Holiday , Vacation •||• Sharing an ice-cream together.

🍁 DAY 12 : Books, Reading, Writing •||• "You and me, it's never going to happen."

🍁 DAY 13 : Flowers •||• "I want to be with you." "I don't."

🍁 DAY 14 : Polaroid, Picture •||• Clicking candid pictures of their S/O to capture the special moments.

🍁 DAY 15 : Childhood, Nostalgia •||• "I love you. It's always going to be you."

🍁 DAY 16 : Cooking, Baking •||• Pretending to date each other to get out of a situation.

🍁 DAY 17 : Picnic •||• "That's all I really need. Some time with just you."

🍁 DAY 18 : Cuddle, Snuggle •||• Taking care of the other when they're sick or feeling low.

🍁 DAY 19 : Museum, Library •||• Picturing a future together even though they know it might never be true.

🍁 DAY 20 : Blue •||• " Are you saying that there's hope? Maybe in the future-" "No."

🍁 DAY 21 : Love, Kiss •||• Sending love letters to the other.

🍁 DAY 22 : Friends, Friendship •||• "It feels like I've known you forever."

🍁 DAY 23 : Fall •||• "I'm seeing someone."

🍁 DAY 24 : Serene •||• "Guess all those romance novel paid off after all, huh?"

🍁 DAY 25 : Secret, Surprise •||• "Is that my shirt?"

🍁 DAY 26 : Chocolate •||• Predicting the other's words or moves.

🍁 DAY 27 : Sunset •||• "Why did I know you would say that?"

🍁 DAY 28 : Wedding •||• "I always knew you would get together someday. What took you two so long?"

🍁 DAY 29 : rêveur, rêveuse •||• " You are all I could ever ask for."

🍁 DAY 30 : Home, Heart •||• "I'm here for you. Always."

**{Credit for most of the dialogue prompts goes to this blog~ @youneedsomeprompts}**

Have fun creating!

[brujahinaskirt]

god. i don't discuss this much or ever, really, but i truly do believe that penelope and beau were the family arthur needed.

[inane rambling under the cut, spoilers for Chapter 3]

They represented a green but fierce and strong-backed love between two young people he could protect and nurture. On one hand: A gentle, soft, artistic young romantic, the kind of man and lover Arthur never had a chance in hell of being (but might have been in some other dream of life) in the throes of a pure and openhearted love (a completely consuming and unguarded love Young Arthur was far too afraid and wounded to embrace for himself even given how young he was when he met Mary). On the other hand, a bravehearted, future-minded firecracker suffragist who did what the more traditionalist Mary was never truly going to be able to do (abandoning her awful family to run away and risk her life starting anew).

It's all very perfect and fitting and of course in canon he immediately projects on them and likes them both immensely, pathetically halfhearted protests aside. (Beau being the exact type of soft-but-sassy, extremely genuine/passionate man that Arthur enjoys; Penelope being the exact type of driven, society-defying, deviant intellectual person he most admires.) Lots of nice useful parallels of the past and "take a chance that love exists" fulfillment, etc etc. Literary themes. I like all of that stuff.

But honestly at a more home-and-hearth level, this is the exact type of denouement I want for Arthur. Perhaps he won't get his Settled and Domestic existence on a Hard Work Ranch of his own. Perhaps he won't get married and quit running and make one final forever place to stop and live and rest in. But perhaps, though that is the happy future he imagines for himself, that idea of settled down is not really what Arthur needs from it. Maybe he just needs a different sort of cobbled-together, undomesticated family to run with. One that welcomes and deeply appreciates his help... but one that doesn't so heavily rely on him to be workhorse. One that has a future completely independent of Arthur's past. One that mostly just decides, sincerely but with the ferocity of loyalty and affection with which Penny and Beau seem to do everything, that they want him around.

A part of me knows this is an outlandish, ridiculous what-if and I don't actually wish the story ended this way, of course. But another part of me wants to see what might have happened if he had hopped on that stagecoach with them to help them get a little farther. To watch days become weeks become months as Penelope and Beau get off to a rocky start as they fumble through their new life on the lam, but are too happy with each other and the youngness of their dreams to care. To watch arthur teach Penny how to use that revolver and Beau, well, he can sit and look pretty and write poems... and indeed, even in canon there's nothing wrong with that idea to Arthur, as long as the "soft" man in question lives to make his woman happy (something Arthur badly wanted with Mary, a life to live just for her, but didn't have a real shot in hell at living).

I want to watch Penelope drag Arthur around TERRIBLE OHIO by the arm to look at kittens in pet store windows and drink fancy coffee and maybe buy some new shirts (and if they don't have money for both of them, they can steal one and buy the other). Then they can go pick Beau up from busking or skipping stones on the lake or drawing Penelope's most-beautiful face from memory or whatever the hell he does with his time, and all three of them get cheap dinner and eat it outside. She introduces him to all the OHIOANS as her AWFUL UNCLE (wonderful man) and they include him in everything and make him their new family, their father figure of choice (big brother figure? uncle figure? none of and yet all of the above?). And if they do have children, Arthur gets to help make sure those children grow up surrounded by so much love and safety and happy ignorance, the begat-by-healthy-love childhood Arthur and no one else around him ever seemed to have. And Penelope and Beau have finally made a family of their own to truly belong to, and Arthur gets to become more of the man he has always truly been inside, and none of them ever feel unwanted or out of place in their own home ever again. THE END. god.

[lawluenvy]

okay but i dont think we talk enough about how childe is from snezhnaya and would honestly fucking die in the heat of a liyue summer or most of sumeru and especially the desert and as a canadian i can just affirm us born and bred northerners do NOT adjust to heat easily like honestly childe's outfit in liyue blows my mind like is he really gonna be able to tolerate all those layers??? uh uh i dont think so i hope to god that jacket is like mostly linens lmao cuz his hydro vision otherwise might be the only reason he's doing alright lmao

so picture this for a moment:

him and zhongli somehow end up in the desert together.

i like to think childe is sent on a mission there and he's decided to stop by liyue to take a chance coming across zhongli and oh? who's that sitting at third round knockout? zhongli? yes, yes it is so why not go say hello? oh? zhongli has missed him? well, why not hang out a while and catch up? childe thus proceeds to drink with him and then drunk and happy he accidentally invites zhongli to join him in sumeru and he's just about to take it back like "ahaha... nevermind i didn't really mean it....unless?" when zhongli surprisingly agrees! thus begins their journey to sumeru!

inevitably whatever his mission is leads him to the desert and childe is fucking DYING! he is MELTING and his hydro vision in this dry heat can only do so much - he is vaporizing under that sun and hella dehydrated!

so, naturally, as he starts to complain and get uncomfortable he starts taking off some layers. first is his cape/scarf and jacket of course and that does alright for a while... until it doesn't.

so what's next? well his shirt obviously!

and at this point zhongli, who has also taken off his jacket and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt at least, is starting to get very... distracted. childe is miserable and so he's ashamed but also childe looks good. like... he looks fucking delectable. hair a tangled messy from childe constantly running his hand through it, sweat dripping down his neck, down his chest and then through the divets of his abs...

and zhongli is quickly dying as well and so much less because of the heat- his reptilian instincts are adoring and soaking in all the sun actually- and a lot more because he is far too attracted to childe right now

anyways i love this idea and maybe i'll write a one shot one day but who knows?

[writefightandflightclub]

AHHHHHH THE SANTI SOCCER PLAYER FIC!!! It was so good!! One of my favorite fics ive read in a while, thank you very much 💙💙

Imagine playing soccer with santi and the boys and absolutely kicking their asses. I feel like santi might feel a certain way 👀 just food for thought

Ah thank you so much! I’m super happy you enjoyed it 😊

Since I’m now so into this pairing I HAD to write a little blurb with your idea! Here you go! It’s set prior to the last one, earlier in their relationship.

Kick around: Santiago “Pope” Garcia x Masc!Soccer Player!Reader

Summary: Santi watches you run circles around his squad, and it makes him feel some kinda way.

Genre: fluff but Santi is a horny bastard (no smut, not explicit.) He soff! He dopey in love!

Reader: masc!reader, he/him pronouns. No anatomical / physical descriptions. Reader takes shirt off on pitch.

Author’s note: I ship these two so hard 🥹

Gif by @thewaythisis

You’re the hottest person to have ever existed.

Santi is sure of it.

He’d invited the whole squad along to your traditional Sunday morning kick-around. They’d been pestering him to meet you and this -you’d agreed- seemed like a fun and low pressure way to get to know them a little. While you’re in your element.

But, watching you run circles around every single one of them, is making him feel some kind of way.

It’s basically 5-a-side (well, four of them) versus you, and you are a fucking machine.

The breath saws in and out of his lungs as he watches Frankie attempt to pass the ball to Will as though he’s never met a soccer ball in his life, the shot clearly jarring his leg - a fact Frankie quickly attempts to gloss over.

He watches you dance around Will, basically teasing him far more than you need to with you fancy footwork. Will’s chest is heaving, his body lurching all over the place. You make every one of his highly trained operatives look cumbersome and tired, and meanwhile you’re not even out of breath. Haven’t broken a sweat. Have a gorgeous shit-eating grin on your face.

Santi is fit enough to keep up for a while longer at least, even if his soccer skills are lacklustre. He’s fine with that, honestly. He knows he has plenty of other skills - but the boys are actually competing with you as though it’s a matter of personal pride. As through they stand a chance.

Santi dips off to the side of the pitch to refuel with water and to calm his shaky legs, but in truth he’s just enjoying watching you. He enjoys showing you off. He enjoys the fact that you’re completely kicking their asses. He very much enjoys how hot you look as you do it too. How in control you look. How poised. You’re so fucking competent. The way your body looks as you run circles around them. Your 100-watt smile which he can see shining from all the way over here.

And finally, he watches you approach Benny, the last line of defence between you and the goal.

Benny is the only one that maybe has any kind of shot at besting you. He’s in shape. He’s spry. He’s an athlete.

No wait. He’s… calling a time-out? He’s grabbing some water. He’s taking his shirt off and… damn, you follow suit, and as Santi continues to sip on his water he has to be careful it doesn’t drool from the corner of his mouth at the sight of you.

Still, when Benny is ready, you resume, and he puts in a good effort but he has no hope in hell. You run rings around him. Leave him in the dust. His only hope is a completely dirty tackle, and Santi had already warned him what the consequences of that would be.

Still, the bastard does it anyway. Tries to grab you and swipe the ball from out under you. You stop dead still, putting your arms in the air and scolding the man. “This isn’t MMA, Benjamin.” Santi chuckles to himself. God, he loves that you fit right in. Like you’ve always been here. Like he’s always known you.

Then, you let Benny retake his position and you fleet straight past him, socking a sweet shot right into the top corner of the net with precision.

The boys all congregate now, Frankie folded in half and looking like he’s begging for an end to this torment. You pat him on the back and run to get him a towel and an isotonic drink, and Santi’s eyes crease with fondness as he watches you take care of and banter with his squad as though they are your own.

It’s one of the many things that can make him imagine you being in his life for a very long time, and the thought causes a sort of tranquility to wash over him.

Eventually, you peel of, nodding your head in the direction of Santi and beelining over towards where he casually leans up against a tree, doing that little footballer run to get over to him.

“Hiiiii,” he says dreamily, his pupils replaced by hearts, he’s sure, as he melts into a puddle.

You look amused. “Having fun, baby?”

Santi simply blinks, batting his long-lashes at you.

“Hiiiii,” he repeats, giving you the once-over with his eyes and evidently liking what he sees.

“Hi,” you laugh bashfully, the rich sound bobbing in your throat, and meanwhile Santi pushes up off the tree and shimmies closer. He places his hands at your hips, where shorts meet bare skin, and you have the good sense to clamp your hands over his, as though he’d be ballsy enough to strip you right here. “Do you think the guys are having fun?”

“I don’t know,” Santi purrs. “I’ve forgotten all their names. Faces. There’s only you.” A blatant heat is brewing in his eyes, and his gaze trails like fire over you.

You drop your voice lower in your throat. “Oh, you liked that did you? Watching me run circles around your friends? Showing me off?”

Santi smiles dopily at you. He’s got nothing.“Hiiiii,” he repeats, and you slide your hands from where they rest and loop them around his neck.

“Well. You can show me how much I impressed you later. For now, we have brunch.”

“Skip brunch,” Santi grunts, like a Neanderthal.

“Baby!” you eyes search his for sense. “I promised to get to know your friends. It’s important for us, right?”

The fact you’d do that for him? The fact you said us? It’s just one of the many things that makes Santiago want you in his life for a very, very long time.

One of the things; but there are so many more.