#i love him so much ty for this specific request anon :')

[hughiecampbelle]

Supe Preference: Asking You Out

Requested: hi, idk if you write for the supes, but I will try request anyway :D how would the supes ( the boys series) ask a gn reader out? Ty - anon

A/N: I hope this is okay my love! I tried to stay true to character as much as possible, so I'm not sure how romantic some of them are. I tried writing for new Supes too, at least new for me, so apologies if it's not totally in character! Feedback is always appreciated! 💜💜💜

Homelander doesn't exactly ask you out. Rather, on live TV during an interview or event, he grabs your hand and proclaims that you're in love, that you're a couple. Whether or not you're into him, it still comes as a shock. Afterwards he'll ask you on a date where the public and paparazzi can see and take pictures. It's not as intimate as you'd like, but the date goes well. He takes you to an expensive restaurant where you've gotten rid of your suit for something classy and elegant, but he sticks with his regular attire. It's definitely not how you were expecting to be asked out or how you thought your relationship would progress. Ashley thinks it's great! You are both insanely powerful and, for selfish reasons, she wants Homelander off her back. She appreciates that you'll take some of the attention off her.

The Deep probably makes more than a few inappropriate, crude, raunchy jokes about and around you before he properly introduces himself. It's almost compulsive the way his jokes come out. He just can't help himself. He later apologizes and asks to start fresh. Would you want to go out on a date with him? When you say yes, he instantly tells you about all his ideas. You could go to the aquarium or to dinner or to the amusement park or coffee or whatever you want to do. You stick to coffee. It's pretty cute how excited he is. He wasn't expecting you to say yes, so he really didn't have it planned all the way through. He was expecting, like everyone else in his life, for you to call him stupid and move on without answering.

A-Train and you have been dating forever, but you haven't been out on a date in ages. He's still shy trying to ask you out even now. Of course you say yes, excited you'll get some time alone. You might have to reschedule once or twice because Homelander is on the rampage, but when you do get together, he takes you rollerskating. Despite how fast he is in sneakers, he's awful on wheels. He holds your hand the entire time and definitely drags you down when he falls. He stays pretty casual in his clothes and tries to keep his hood up, but it just falls down. You guys find a roller-rink in the middle of nowhere, so you're pretty safe in being discovered. You make fun of his clumsiness and check him for bruises when he falls, especially hard. He makes the same joke over and over: that he "fell" for you. You think he's an idiot, but this is by far one of your most favorite dates.

Queen Maeve asks you out over text. When you say yes, she shows up in her civilian clothes. She makes sure she isn't followed and that Homelander is distracted the entire day. She takes you to the movies. It's dark and secluded, but she knows you love movie theater popcorn specifically with all the butter and the blue raspberry slushies, and you picked the only movie not funded by or produced by Vought. It's a really terrible comedy, but you two can laugh at it anyway. Maeve even holds your hand during the movie which makes her heart beat out of her chest. Afterwards she makes you stay after to kiss you and tell you she had a really great time. It's the first time in forever where she's felt like a real person whose allowed to do real person things. She wants to get your read on it, but you're both excited for a second date.

Firecracker would ask you on a date to some fast food restaurant where you can get the best greasy food and the thickest milkshakes. She'll definitely be sported because she doesn't go incognito and ends up spending a few minutes at least taking pictures and videos for everyone who wants one. She apologizes for them, but secretly, she loves it. You don't mind. You knew what you were getting into when you said yes to the date. She tells you about her life growing up and her past with Starlight. You tell her about your own life and how you came to New York to follow your dreams. She tells you about joining The Seven and what she really thinks of Vought. It isn't the most magical date, but you're glad you said yes. It made you feel like a teenager again, getting food with your old crush, trying to play it cool when you're actually freaking out.

Soldier Boy doesn't really ask you out on a date. You two *get busy* in bed and afterwards he asks if you'd want to go to a bar. You say yes and find yourself at a local hole in the wall, a place that definitely doesn't see new faces. Most of the patrons are as old as Ben would be if he'd aged. He looks so familiar to them, but they can't figure out where he's from. An old friend? An old co-worker? Regardless, they don't pay attention to the two of you. You and Ben start trying to out drink one another and though his tolerance is astronomically higher than yours, you keep up enough to impress him. You two probably go back to bed and keep drinking, sharing stories about your lives between sweaty sheets and shared sips of whatever booze he has lying around. It's not too official, but you both kind of think of it as a date.

Bonus! Annie asks you to go bowling with her. Like in the show, she plays it off like she's not very good until you point it out to her. That's when she starts kicking your ass. She's really embarrassed and worried that you'll think she's showing off or just trying to make you feel bad, but you love it. You love her strength. You love her showing off and almost breaking the pins with the ball. You get really awful bowling alley food and beers, and it's a really fun night despite all the drama that comes with being Starlight. It's the first time in a long time she's felt normal and safe and excited to be here, excited to be herself. You're not shy about asking for a second date, though you know you're risking a lot by wanting to be with her. She makes that known before anything else.

[choccy-milky]

I dont know why I had this vision of clora riding a scooter, like a cute light blue one with italy vibes, like a vespa, and sebastian panicking behind her LMAO

I SEE THE VISION AS WELL...idk how shes on a vespa tho since they werent invented yet so lets just assume theres time-turner shenanigans going on LMAO

but also anon this request was so funny to me because the SAME day you sent me it, i also got this one on twitter:

TRULY THE DUALITY OF MAN IS AT PLAY HERE!!! LMAOO debauchery vs wholesomeness...and it made me laugh so much

(and for anyone curious yes i WILL also be honouring the other request......eventually👀)

@jstfndmthngs splitting your ask into 2 again bc its a CHONKER but I LOVED READING IT🥹🥹 "how much they love each other to the abnormal level that i envy" LMAOO THATS FANFICTION FOR YOU, BABY!!😍 also YESS interacting with my readers in the comments was my fav parts of writing a lot of the time, and im SOOO grateful to the ppl who commented bc without them the story would have turned out DRASTICALLY DIFFERENT. like, i know there are some people who write the entirety of their fanfic and then upload it in chunks, but if i had done that/written my story in a vacuum and hadnt incorporated any of my readers ideas/suggestions it would have been SOOOO much worse honestly LMAO. like, not even necessarily putting their requests or ideas in my fic, but even sometimes just reading a comment that would say something like "i cant wait to see how clora/seb reacts to..." would make me think...oh. i was never planning on even showing their reaction to that. but now that they say that, good point, i definitely need to include that LOL. so yeah even just little stuff like that was SUPER important to my writing process and my story and helped me keep in mind what people wanted to see/things i may have missed or glossed over if i'd been writing by myself, but i also just loved getting comments in general bc i loved reading them and they were so motivating🥹 BUT THANK U SO MUCH IM GLAD U LIKED MY STORY/SEB & CLORA SO MUCH, AND TY FOR SHARING ALL YOUR THOUGHTS WITH ME!!🥹💖💖 im lowkey the same way... i cant read any other fics rn bc im still too attached to seb/clora BAHAHA so i still need to give it some time before i delve into other HL fics (i even downloaded a program that will let me replace names so that i can replace the mc's name with clora's LMFAOOOO THATS HOW MENTALLY ILL I AM ABOUT THEM!!😭😭DONT COME FOR ME🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️🚓)

omg...i already love unlocking kinks in people but for it to be specifically seb x clora is even more of an honour BAHAHA omg i love that....but i get it too. clora is submissive and breedable af😍LMAOO (im sorry💀that wasnt me just now that was seb blame him)

@acrenna MERRY LATE CHRISTMAS AND ALSO LATE HAPPY NEW YEAR!!! this is so sweet THANK YOU SO MUCH😭😭im happy my story was able to get you out of your reading slump!! (and hopefully will continue to, with my oneshot im slowly but surely working on😩) BUT THANK YOU AGAIN I APPRECIATE YOU SM🥹🥹💖

@misskkfritz you actually arent the first to say this and i also saw a pinterest comment on my art say this........FELLAS DO I NEED TO WATCH GILMORE GIRLS NOW🤔🤔🤔

[slutfactory]

‘MILKING’ COW. ★ w. ushijima x m!reader. [requested!]

request by anon. “Ayo, idk if ur reqs are open, but can i request a cow Ushijima fic? Kinda down bad for him. Nothing specific so do whatever! Ty!

warnings. cow!ushi + m!farmer!reader, animal features (cow ears n horns), light overstimulation. nothin much tbh, just soft(?) sex w ushi. <3

author's note. same, anon. same. we love ushi gushi on this blog. also, soft boi hours + horny hours actually go pretty well together?? who would've thunk it?

<500 words yeh kinda short

you couldn't quite put your finger on it, but something about this felt oddly.. backwards..??

ushijima, as he had been doing for the past fifteen minutes, whorishly bounced up and down on your cock. even after both of you having orgasmed not too long ago, he didn't stop—

—oh. right. he was milking you. that's what it was.

wet plap noises, along with wakatoshi's mewls of pleasure filled the room, echoing against the walls. feeling a bit too sensitive, you stopped him, holding his hips in place when he lowered himself. the sight of your beloved, prized cow breeding himself on your cock and moaning like a slut was almost enough to make you cum again. right then and there.

the olive haired man looked at you, eyes filled with pure lust and desire. “i wan’ more.. please-.. ” he whined, squirming on your lap—you stifled a groan at this. “milking master feels so good.. ”

your dick twitched, hearing ushijima's pleas. he was so cute, and that made you want to ruin him. but, he wanted to be the one to do the milking this time—and after hearing him beg, you just couldn't say no. honestly, how could you? why would you?

releasing ushi's hips, you gave him an approving nod. he let out a few whines, quiet at first, but slowly increasing in volume, as he began to move again; at the same speed he did before you stopped him. you in turn, let out your own share of grunts and moans, much to his pleasure.

apparently, ushijima was also sensitive after orgasming earlier– or at least you assumed that from how his inner walls twitched and tightened around your shaft much more than before. adorable. “gonna cum already, baby?” he nodded, holding onto your shoulders a little tighter. “me too. let's cum together, 'kay?” you purred.

about thirty seconds of sloppy riding passed before ushijima came, spilling his load on his and your stomachs. this did not stop him, though—he was overstimulating himself now, but he wanted you to cum inside of him.

you of course granted his wish, as his cunt tightened around you as he continued riding you; which almost immediately brought you to orgasm. a strained groan left your lips as you did so. wakatoshi let out a broken whine as he felt your hot seed filling him up inside. “'s so hot.. ngh.. ” he muttered while trying to catch his breath. “master felt good too, right?”

also breathless, you chuckled softly and kissed his forehead. “of course, honey.” again, you chuckled, seeing his ears twitch slightly as his face lit up—seemingly with happiness and a bit of embarrassment. ushi buried his face in the crook of your neck, and you tried to ignore one of his horns lightly stabbing at your skin.

“c'mon. we have to clean up. i'll make your favorite food for dinner, alright?” you pat him on the head. a content 'mm.' was all you got in response.

[nothomegal]

Mmm, this isnt a fic request (or maybe yes) but i NEED for reader to break and finally give in for their cuddle session with Danny, oh! And finally start to fall in love with him

Aww you're right anon! I guess it's only the matter of time for the reader to eventually give in and accept the weird ghost guy that keeps sneaking into their life (and house).

And I know it took me way too long to do your request, I apologize for the wait, had some trouble writing this since I never liked how it turned out -.-' Luckily though, I think I finally got something decent!

"Favorite person"

(Ghostface x GN Reader)

Summary: everyone has a limit, and unfortunately today is the day you reached yours as life wasn't all too kind to you for the last 24 hours... But hey, at least your dear intruder has your back, so not everything is that bad! Right, doll?

Warnings: mild example of unhealthy and obsessive behavior, the rest it's all fluff.

Word count: 2.2k

The grip around (Y/N) remained tight. The intruder kept holding their tied form closely in complete silence, something very out of his character.

But such oddness didn’t come from nowhere, and (Y/N) was the one who indirectly caused it. Today was probably the worst day of their life, everything that could’ve gone wrong, went wrong. It's honestly incredible they still had the emotional strength to return home without bursting into tears on their way.

They’re not quite sure how or when they fell asleep, their mind been a mush of blur since they entered their home. All they can remember is waking up already laying in bed with their arms tied behind their back and their body pressed against the chest of the masked man, the same one that would often come to mess with them.

Sometimes he would reveal himself willingly and others just stay in the shadows and observe them from afar or straight from the corner while they’re in a deep sleep.

This night however, apart from tying their hands, he haven't done anything from his previous visits. No cheeky remarks about anything specific they did that day, no rants about some random topic and no attempts to scare or tease them... Heck, he didn't even run his hand through their hair or body. Absolutely no additional touches beside holding them close.

This really threw (Y/N) off. Ghostface, who's been a huge pain for them, the authorities and basically everyone in the town, was... Acting so thoughtful, nothing like the selfish villain he's been portraying himself as for the past numerous nights.

It's not the first time he hugs and holds them in his arms, he's actually super touchy with them and never fails to express his amusement of how helpless they always look. But now?... Now it doesn't feel like any of his shenanigans, but a genuine attempt to comfort them while not pushing too much, though the effectiveness of said attempt remains questionable.

Their thoughts and wonders were interrupted when they feel movement and then something grab their chin to then gently move their head up until they're face to face with that unsettling mask that resembled a ghost.

—“Feeling better?"—

They don't make a sound, quite the opposite, they press their lips in a thin line as they stare into the dark eyes of his mask.

—"If I take off the tape, will you talk to me?"—

Their body tensed at such question. Is he... Is he actually going to?...

—"Of course as long as you don't try anything funny... But you know better."— he leans closer to your face. —"Right, (Y/N)?"—

They gulp nervously, but Ghostface is right, they do know better than to gamble with their luck. Besides, they have no energy to fight or struggle anyways, so of course they'll play along... For now, at least.

With a more defeated look, they slowly nod.

The man releases a pleased hum and without a warning yanks the tape off of their moth, making them yelp from the pain and surprise.

—“There you go, hope it didn’t hurt too much.”— he snorts at your cringed expression.

—“It… It did… A bit.”— you mutter quietly. —“But not as much as a stab would…”—

The killer paused at the sound of their voice, but the calm was short as out the sudden he grabbed them by the chin again and squeezed their face a bit.

—"Aww, look, your first words.”— he remarks playfully before tilting his head. —“Well? Isn’t it just sweet to finally be able to talk, hmm?”—

(Y/N) remains quiet for a couple of seconds, unsure if they should speak again or not. But when It became clear that the interaction wouldn't progress without their contribution, they force themselves to talk.

—"I… Y-Yeah… It is nice."— you answer while studying his masked face. —"But… Please, don’t get too mad at me for replying slow... I'm not used to talk to... Killers, after all. {Or people in general...}”—

—"...Mad? At you? Oh silly..."—

His head then straightened and he squeezed their face a bit tighter.

—"You're so comically shy that I wish I could just cut you up and pull out some confidence out of your body."— he says in a playful tone, though it sounded way more sinister than intended. —"But it's not that you aren't good at speaking, it's the people you call 'friends' that made you believe that..."—

His tone then became significantly colder at the last part, which made (Y/N) tense and go quiet. But despite the dread, they couldn't help but agree with the killer, their friends indeed aren't as good as they thought.

It's another of the many bad things that happened to them today. They weren't supposed to discover it, they just got in the wrong place at the wrong time and ended up overhearing the few people they thought they were close with talk about them. Nasty comment after comment, disgust and disrespect lingering in their tones as they said their name between insults and cruel jokes…

They didn't even bother to listen to the end of the conversation, they just fled the scene and did their best to not cry until they arrived home. And in the entire day, in this whole period of time they looked so pathetic and miserable, none of their other ‘friends’ bothered to see if they're alright or help with any other issue. Absolutely no one took a moment to even say 'hello', and that made (Y/N) feel the loneliest, like they're just a ghost in other people's life, being acknowledged only when they announce their presence.

They get pulled back to reality when the hand lets go of their face and their body is pressed closer to the masked man, making the embrace feel more intimate.

—"...Sorry I can't take the angst as easily as I take people out."— he mutters, his hand slowly traveling up and down your head. —"But I can prevent said angst in the future. These assholes will not disturb you again, I made sure they won't..."— his grip tightens, turning almost possessive.

A shiver traveled down their spine at his words.

They should be afraid, panic that this stranger so deliberately admitted of harming, and most likely murdering, their friends like it’s the most mundane thing to do. They definitely should at least freak out or give any other kind of distressed reaction, they should… But they don’t.

To be completely honest, they weren't even upset at what Ghostface did. After today's interaction their view on his character changed quite drastically. Though he still had that playful and cocky behavior, they now know that whenever he says or shows them care... It's genuine, or so they think. Could this be a trick to make them let their guard down? Definitely. Does it make sense? Uh... Not really, but this man likes to do odd things to throw off any bystander with his shenanigans.

But even if their strange relationship is just a game to him, then damn he's good at it. They almost feel like them matter, like they can be loved and it's just bad luck people around them can't see or appreciate them... Unfortunately though... They know it's not true, it can't be true, they're too pathetic for that, so much that even a psycho killer had pity over them to pretend-

A surprised gasp escaped (Y/N) when their body was suddenly flipped and tackled against the mattress, with Ghostface now looming over them.

They didn't even need to see his face to know what type of expression he had, the atmosphere was all it took to know he was upset.

—"I am not pleased with how you keep viewing yourself, (Y/N)."— he finally says after a pause. —"And I am certainly pissed that you're doing it around me."—

All (Y/N) could do is stare at the ghastly mask in dead silence. Despite having their mouth untapped, they couldn't bring themselves to make a sound, as if paralyzed from fear and anticipation of what he would do if they happen to upset him more.

When the killer began to lean down lowly, they held their breath by instinct.

—"I'll say this one time, and you better not force me to repeat it."— he said in a low and slow tone. —"You are my favorite person in this whole cursed world. And I swear if you dare to think badly about yourself again, I'll fucking stab you."—

He pauses, either letting his words sink in or re-evaluating what he just said or is about to say.

After not coming to a clear conclusion, he sighs with mild frustration.

—"I... Look. I'm aware of my reputation and the image you have of me. And though I do like to amuse myself with these visits of mine, not ones I did it to mess with you, not in the way you think..."—

He pauses again, the eyes of his mask staring directly into theirs, either studying their expression or thinking.

—"I wanted to end you ones..."—

As he speaks again in a lower voice as he extends his hand, aiming for their neck.

—"...But I don’t want it anymore."—

The hand was drastically redirected towards their face, covering their eyes in a quick movement. Whatever sound of surprise or confusion (Y/N) was about to make is shushed when something soft and warm was pressed against their lips, the sensation sending shivers through their body.

—"{Or ever again.}"—

That's all they heard before their eyes were uncovered and Ghostface plopped on the mattress right next to them, his head placed on his hand as he waits for their reaction.

(Y/N) can only cluelessly blink while staring at the ceiling, wondering if the warm sensation they just felt on their lips was actually Ghostface-...

Their face starts to get progressively redder as the realization kicks in. My god. Ghostface, from all people, actually!-

Their head snaps at his direction when that famous deep raspy chuckle left him, clearly entertained by the fifty shades of red their face is going through.

—"What? Never had a kiss stolen before?"— he teases.

—"I- Uh... No. Not really..."— you answer as you look away, face even redder.

—"Good, all for me then."—

Now it's (Y/N) who lets out a snort, finding his behavior silly yet quite charming. Huh, strange how quickly they moved on, the previous dread and fear they felt when he pinned them was now like a long forgotten dream...

Is the famous Stockholm syndrome affecting them already? Why are they suddenly so okay with his presence? Even when knowing about his mood swings they can't shake off this strange sensation of comfort...

Is it because his actions and intentions are now confirmed to be genuine? Because he really seems to like and cherish their company? Cherish them?...

...

...You know?

Fuck everything.

They're too tired for this 'BS' about morality and shit. It will be a tomorrow problem to overthink, now they should just give in and take this night to relax and... Well, maybe even put into use this little freedom of speech they got and actually chat to the man, maybe even get to know more about him.

They look at killer again, the dark eyes of his mask still fixated on their form as he observes them in silence, almost like he's looking at a piece of art rather than another person.

—"So... Are you going to stay here all night?"— you finally ask.

He's silent for a little while.

—"You want me to?"—

—"Kinda. You... You're not too bad of a company, I guess."— you shoot him a timid smile. —"And even if I didn't I doubt you would've leave."—

He lets out a snort at their last comment and then lies down, a bit closer to them.

—"You're right, you're now haunted by me either you want it or not."—

There is a small pause between them, both just laying and looking at each other, a strange atmosphere of calm now lingered in the room, making this moment feel oddly right.

Out of the sudden, they feel a pair of arms snake around their form and bring them ones again into that warm and intimate hug. And this time, they welcome the gesture by snuggling closer to the man and letting out a content sigh.

—"So."— he then says as he tilts his head to look at you, now in his arms. —"What's your favorite scary movie? I never got an answer to this question."—

—"Huh? Aren't you supposed to know that?"— you arch your brow. —"Y'know cuz of the whole stalker thing and all..."—

—"Yes, but want to hear you tell me that. I just really like the sound of your voice."—

They can feel their cheeks warm up, and they can't avoid to get even shyer when the man chuckles at their expression.

—"W-Well... I have a couple."—

At first they sounded awkward while speaking, as if expecting him to interrupt them or laugh at their preferences. Nevertheless, he never made a sound and seemed to pay close attention to what they're saying, sometimes even asking more things about the movies when given the opportunity. Overall, Ghostface is a very nice guy to talk about any kind of nerdy horror stuff!

At some point, they even forgot that the man holding them was a serial murder. It actually felt like talking to an old dear friend rather than a criminal.

And as they talk through the night, (Y/N) finally understands why Ghostface always became so touchy and clingy whenever he had a bad day.

Cuddles and rants indeed help, especially if done with your favorite person.

And though they're certain he's not one yet... Just by seeing how the night progresses.

They wouldn't be too surprised if he somehow sneaks his way into such spot.

[squiddy-god]

"Antique hearts"

Zhongli x reader

Sweet, cute, and domestic fluff with the former geo archon turned charming man. More re-uploads. As usual no beta no prof

♥︎REQUEST ARE OPEN♥︎ don't be shy, send request for any of the fandoms on my fandom list, you can even recommend shows/games if they aren't there. Or even if you just want to chat! Anon is also always open!

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Hesitance was etched along his defined features when you suggested a trip to mondstat, nothing too long, simply a day away from the familiar mountains of liyue. "Are you sure my dear? " He inquired, you nodded smile painted on your face, "it'll just be for a day I promise, there's a place I'd love to take you" 

How could he say no when you gave him such a hopeful expression. He let out a deep sigh, amber eyes closing gently. It was no secret that zhongli was not a fan of mondstat taverns, the oddities that they often served- it simply wasn't his cup of tea. Thankfully you had no intention of taking him somewhere like the cat tail or angel's share, no no, you were planning to take him somewhere you were certain he'd love. "Alright, I suppose a day's visit to the city of wind wouldn't hurt" He agreed, still slightly sceptical. 

Holding his gloved hand in yours you lead the tall man through the stone streets of mondstat. Although the geo Lord stuck out quite a bit in his liyue attire, people still smiled nonetheless. "Dear, where exactly are you taking me? " His inquisitive gaze was locked upon you, the rich hues of his eyes holding a silent plea that it wasn't a tavern. "Well we're almost there! You'll see soon" 

You were indeed right, you soon came to a quaint cafe, a hole in the wall that was almost never packed. 

He took in the sight, a charming sign hung up above and the small chalkboard with a drawn cake and teacup, it gave a calm atmosphere he rather appreciated in a city such as the bustling mondstat. "Wait until you see the inside" You chirped, interlocking your fingers and leading the way. 

The interior was plastered with a warm yellow wallpaper, murals of cities and gardens painted on the walls. It was as if  each wall was a new place, straight from a story book's pages. But truly what caught. His eyes were the antiques. The front room was adorned in cute white shelves stacked with anything from porcelain birds to beautiful oak jewelry boxes. Elegant carvings in the dark wood drew his eyes to inspect them, a shimmer of curiosity lighting his dazzling face. 

You smiled seeing him so happy, the gentle smile he now dawned warmed your heart and you chuckled. The lady at the front desk created you with a warm smile before leading you to a table in the further back of the cafey. Zhongli admired the walls, beautiful flower bushes and charming window shutters tying together in a landscape unfamiliar yet beautiful. 

"This place is quite charming, hmm, even the cloth on the table holds much character, perhaps this place holds interesting stories" He mused holding his chin. He was delighted to learn they had a vast selection of tea, some blends even from liyue harbor, how curious that such a small cafe had such selection. 

His gloved thumb traced the smooth porcelain cup, swirls of gold lining the rim with pale yellow flowers painted on the smooth surface. 

"This is a common shape for tea cups, the design is wider and lends itself to the maximization of surface area" He began, eyes shifting subtlety from the hot liquid to your eyes. You happily listened as he went on, gently placing the cup down on the matching saucer as you intertwined your fingers atop the table. His voice was soothing and calm, the slight rasp lending itself well to his deep vocals. "The reason for this is to focus on the texture and feel of the tea, specifically teas with rich and velvet textures. Hence it is often used to serve black teas such as Sichuan Imperial Gongfu" He finished, a warm smile on his face as he sipped his tea. 

He always loved when you listened to him, he adored how appreciated you made him feel. That twinkle of attentiveness in your eyes as he spoke, yes, he'd make sure to return that love ten fold.

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[bokutoko]

oomf...,, idk how to request but,, hoshiumi fic,, abt height difference... pleek 🥹? ty

say cheese!

character: korai hoshiumi

wc: 776

content: tall!reader; even in the unbearable summer heat, you and hoshiumi are picture-perfect. <3

a/n: hi anon!!! apologies for the late response (i’ve been vacationing before school starts back EW), and thank you for the request (i was at disney for a day so that was my inspiration)! i’ve also actually never written for hoshiumi, so i hope this is to your liking!

Disneyland lied when they said it was the happiest place on earth.

With the heat index at 41°C, you thought you were going to die from heat exhaustion. No matter how much water you drank the day prior, you felt yourself growing fainter by the minute.

“Koraiiiiii,” you whined as you walked through the park to the next ride, “can you buy me a water?”

Hoshiumi cut his eyes up at you, a playful scowl contorting his face. “This is why I told you to bring a water bottle!” He’d been so excited to come visit the park, nothing was going to stop this day—not even your slow death from the heat.

“I did, but could you get me a cold one? Please? I’m dying right now.” You put on your best puppy eyes, your lip jutting out for extra emphasis. He grimaced, trying to stay strong and look away from you.

He then sighed, knowing he lost this fight. With an overly dramatic eye roll, he walked to the nearest stand to buy you a water, grumbling, “I knew we were gonna end up spending $100 on water. I’d much rather buy a lightsaber, but noooo…” Ignoring him, you tried taking a picture of the castle, but your phone didn’t seem to do it justice. You frowned, unhappy with the pics, and quickly deleted all the ones you took.

Upon his return, you smiled at the two water bottles he held. “Thank youuu,” you sang happily with a chaste kiss to his cheek before taking a big swig from your new bottle.

“Yeah, yeah,” he said, his blush blending in with the slight sunburn on his cheeks, “Okay! Now it’s time to go ride—“

“Excuse me?”

You both turned to see a smiling cast member holding a camera, and Hoshiumi let out a quiet, exasperated sigh. He just wanted to ride some of the rides!!!

“I saw you taking a picture of the castle, would you two like a photo together in front of it?”

Your eyes lit up at the idea—you and Hoshiumi didn’t have many pictures together, so you wanted one that was special. Even though you were sweaty and overheated, you agreed, “I would love it!”

After the photographer placed you both in the best angle with the castle perfectly behind, she called, “Say cheese!” On cue, Hoshiumi flashed his winning, slightly crooked, smile that still made you giddy. His confident, yet cheeky, eyes gave him the boyish charm that you adore.

The photographer was pleased with the result, so she then added, “Now a silly one!”

Without thinking about it, you reached your arm over, resting it right on his head, as if using him as an arm rest. You looked to the camera with a shit-eating grin. An immediate half-annoyed, half-amused expression crossed Hoshiumi’s face as he met your eyes, before you both started laughing. You were the only one able to tease him about his height without any repercussions; he knew—coming from you—that it was all in good fun. His only scolds came halfheartedly when he joked, “So rude!” with a gentle push.

When the photographer showed you the photos, you noticed your eyes were closed in the silly picture when it was taken. Before you could ask for another, though, you looked at them one more time.

Upon closer examination, you noticed, unbeknownst to you at that time, how Hoshiumi looked up at you. In one specific picture, he had a cheeky smile that was full of laughter as he gazed up at you. He was taking in all your features, with the thin sheen of sweat that gave you a slight glow. Seeing the hearts in his eyes, you felt a blush creep on your face. You knew that look in his eye, the love radiating from the picture. He didn’t need to say the words, “I love you;” his eyes did it for him.

It was perfect timing—a picture captured of him falling in love with you once again.

“And how exactly can I get these pictures?”

—

Beaming at the new photos in your camera roll, your mind was completely distracted from the heat that prickled at your skin. Maybe Disneyland was the happiest place on Earth…

You were getting ready to post the pictures at the same time as you and Hoshiumi finally reached the line for your favorite ride—it would’ve been his first time riding it!

Until you heard the young attendant snicker and ask, “Ya sure you’re tall enough to ride this, kiddo?”

You just sighed when you heard Hoshiumi’s red-hot, “What did you just say?”

… It was gonna be a long day.

masterlist | navigation

please do not copy, alter, or repost my work. ©bokutoko 2024.

[sexydoffyman]

Hey I’m the anon that request the smut for katakuri and I apologize for not being specific!

Here’s a little scenario:

Katakuri is starting his merienda with his wife (reader) and this time though, things get a little spicy >////< (btw could U make reader on the more dominant side)

(If u need more details lmk)

And if u Can could u add some teasing (from reader to kata) and oral (male receiving)

That’s it! Ty and have a gorgeous day/night!

STEAMY TIME

genre: smut

word count: 387

A/N: I'm really nervous about how my English exam went. Anyway here's ur fic! 🐢

It took him a while to let you see his face. And it took him even more time to let you see him eat. That was a while ago, and now, you can't even remember the times he was scared you'd hate him.

You sat next to him, taking a donut for yourself. Katakuri told the chefs to make a few donuts your size. Everyone who knew him respected him. His siblings respected him the most. And other people who were associated with the Big Mom pirates got a huge sense of authority from him.

Basically to any normal person, Katakuri was intimidating. But to you, he was such a lovely dear. Instead of big and scary, you viewed him more softly. That also meant that you took the more dominant role in your relationship.

You ate your donut and caressed his thigh. If anyone saw him like this, they would never believe it was him. He was blushing like crazy. He hoped you didn't notice. But he was wrong.

In a matter of minutes, he was on his back being jerked off by you. He didn't even know how he got into that position. A few years ago, he'd never thought he'd be a whimpering mess. He couldn't even comprehend how much pleasure he was feeling. He was so close. So close.

You suddenly let go. He was left there whimpering. Hoping that you were gonna touch him again. He looked your way. You saw a few tears well up in his eyes. You sat back and took off your pants.

You wanted him to give you a head forever now. He always denied it, being scared he might hurt you. You've been thinking about how to get him into the mood enough to beat his fear.

And there he was, sucking on you. He was making sure his teeth didn't even graze you. To his surprise, it was much easier due to the size difference.

He jerked when he felt your touch again. Slightly moaning while licking you up. You were both close. You were moaning his way as you felt your orgasm coming.

At the last second, he stopped. He glanced at you with a smirk and said "Let's turn things around a little."

You knew that this was gonna be a long night.

[cantgetworsethanthistbh]

Don’t know if you’re still taking prompts but if you are you should totally write about ford eating out fem!stan for the first time plz🙏

hey anon! sorry i took a really long ass while to respond to this since i couldnt think of any specific scenarios to write this prompt of that wasn't just, you know, the prompt— but it finally hit me like a truck today! and also cuz i was sick and doing this in between homework djdndhdsn

anyway, VERY explicit under this read more, since i got SO carried away, hope you dont mind its the geezers pre-weirdmageddon in this one AND that you dont mind a little sex pollen also ty ty ty so much for your fem!stan request i love it when people enable me dhdndhdbdu also sorry to everyone who exoected a "read more" but tumblr hides my stuff when i do that so heres the warning, please scroll if thats not your thing

~~

"Constance, get down!"

"Wha—"

It was too late. Cloud of pink glitter exploded in her face and sent her into a coughing fit so hard her lungs shook in her ribcage. She drops to the floor and hears Ford's "Constance!"

Then she hears him fire his space gun. Just out of her periphery was chunks of blue goo that would be a fucking bitch to clean out of the walls and carpet, but la di da, there it was. There isn't a second to groan about that or the way her breathing turned heavy when Ford runs to her side, grabbing at her arm and forcing her to her back.

"Constance, are you okay?"

"Stanford..." Stan wheezes, turning her head into a hafl glare. "What... the HELL was that...?"

Ford's eyes narrow, inspecting her face, before his thumb brushes against her cheek. Stan shivers, a full body quake and confusion over taking her while Ford inspects his thumb. From down here, Stan can only stare because what else can she do when she's down, dizzy with virtigo from whatever magical poison that got sprayed across her face.

From down here, Stan feels the heat from Ford's grip, the pads of his fingers and the large mass of his palm against the bare skin of her arm, tickling the nerves underneath into sending sparks that go through her body and meet at the coil of her stomach. Even Ford's knee, under all that cloth and was much father from her face than Stan seems to think it is, illicited some deep, twisted something in Stan again she hasn't felt in a while.

"Ford?"

Ford's eyes snap back to her, blown and widened with alarm. Suddenly, he grabs her arm again, slips it over his shoulders, the other encircling her back. Stan thinks, alright, he's going to help me up, before a squawk rips from her throat when his arm loops under the back of her knees and lifts her to the air.

"What are you—?!"

"No time to explain, let's go," Ford says with all the urgency of a man on a mission. Carrying her out of their fairy-thing-guts covered living room with way too much ease, he sprints into the giftshop, ignoring Stan's confusion and dragging her into the basement.

It doesn't take a too long to find herself sitting on Ford's desk, trying to pump the breaks on the now doubled speed of her heart and the vibrations that run through out her body, working its ways to adjust to the surrounding. When Ford plopped her down and breathed the same air she did for less than a second, she felt it— ignition to an burnt out furnace suddenly bursting to new life. there was so much heat simmering through her veins, her nerves, every god damn thing was way too much to handle.

She's hot. Ford's desk and the glass plane behind her was cold, cold to a chill, and her thighs clench and rub together, onto the desk, aching for that rub of friction because she needed something hot, hot now, just as hot as her. Her mouth was dry, all the spit went on her tongue to her lips. Things— way too many things jumble in Stan's head, ranging from what the fuck is happening to holy shit, when did Sixer get that strong.

What stood out the most through was her brother saying he messed around with fucking nymphs, and all morning he's been hunted down by them. The one dead by their living room? A fucking nymph-assassin.

"Sixer, what the hell?" She pants, and oh God, she's panting? When the hell did that happen? Stan sucks in a breath again when Ford turns from rummaging through his stuff again to finally throw her a glance. Red hot heat crawls up her neck and she bites down on her lip when his eyes zero in on her squirming, her thighs. Stan might've thought she saw his jaw flex but, fuck if she wasn't also just going delirious.

"Why the hell were you messing around with those things in the first place?"

"I needed something from them, Constance," Ford answers measuredly, and Stan hears another racket from him looking for some goddamn thing through out his mess. "I've made an ammicable deal with them in the past, and now they're pushing for more. That's out of my control."

"I bet you backed out of that deal," Stan accuses, because it was pretty clear to them that Ford wasn't a god damn master of trickery or whatever. "What, you tried to swindle them for more of this fuck-powder? You know they sell viagra at the store?"

"That wasn't what I dealed with them for," Ford mutters lowly and, damn, if it were any other time, Stan would make fun of him. Stan would tease him, laugh at the embarrassed pout on his face, the bright red flush over his cheeks and ears. But she can't, not when Ford's back was what she's staring at, the broad, plane of his back and wide slopes of his shoulders, hidden under that stupid trenchcoat and sweater combo.

Where they could be ripped off and Stan could see all the things she never would have imagined her cute, nerdy but unappreciatedly handsome brother growing into if not for the one perk of getting shoved into a portal to whole universes of things trying to kill him. When she couldn't imagine him getting any hotter than he already—

They're back, those stupid god damn fantasies. They came at night, they came in the morning. They came whenever she and Ford would pass each other in the hall in their mutual agreement of no-talking, and his shadow almost engulfs her completely nowadays, and all she thinks is how stupid this whole avoiding each other thing is and they could be siblings as thick as thieves again.

Or even better— Ford could shove her into the wall and kiss her until she can't breathe. He could let her push that coat of his shoulders and sweater off his back so Stan's hands could crawl up them again. He could bite her neck, unbutton her blouse and pants, put one of those big palms to use and grope and squeeze around her tits, put those extra fingers to use and slip them into her pants, underwear, her, while Stan barely holds herself together biting at the firm skin on his shoulder.

Put that smartass mouth to use and say "Thank you, Stan" or "You're so good for me, Stan."

Get on his knees and put that mouth to even better use if he'd just shove down her pants, place his hands on her hips, nose against her bush and his mouth on her—

It takes a second too long to realize, but it happened. one hand slid between her legs, pushed the fabric of her boxers away to brush at her wet and even more senstive pussy. A second too long to stop that haggard mewl that came out of her lips.

A second too long to see that Ford finally turned back with a jar in way too tightly gripping hand, staring slack jawed at Stan behind his glasses.

Fucking great.

"Constance," Ford breathes shakily, and no, this can't happen. Their relationship can't get any worse, and sure Stan is gross for thinking about her brother that way, but she can't help that they're coming at the worst time, when she can't hide in her room far, far away from the basement and ride on her fingers to quiet cries of Ford's name.

"G-God, don't be so dramatic about it!" She says, sweat prickling at her neck. "You-you've seen me change and get naked before! This isn't that different!" Because there wasn't totally a difference between getting used to changing infront of your brother when you could barely live in one small space together when you were kids to touching yourself to them, right infront of them.

Right?

Man, she's such a sucker.

Shame is mixing with her already sizzling skin, and she needs to go. Take that jar-of-something to her room and figure it out on her own because obviously, Ford already wanted nothing to do with her and would want it even less now. Goddamn it, this would be so much easier if Ford didn't have eyes that were identical to hers, but wore it with that cutting stare that tore through her. Since they were teens and she was in denial about getting off to her twin brother who stared a little too hard— or even since forever.

Or at least if she wasn't still so hot and bothered thinking about him where she thinks she might've already came to his god damn desk.

Stan starts pushing herself off of it, face sweaty and pink. "F-Fine, I'll go. Just gimme that antedote and I'll—"

Ford closes the gap quicker than a lightning bolt, the jar already rolling on the floor and Stanford's mouth already crushed against hers, all hungry and desperate like he couldn't physically hold himself down anymore and their glasses knocking askew. He's nudging himself between her knees, his hands onto the fat on her hips, and shit, did he just moan? From just kissing her? Oh damn.

"Nevermind that. I think I have a better antedote," Ford says against her lips. "I'd like to test it out."

"Just fuck me already, Sixer, oh my God."

Stanford lights up, smiles like he won the damn lottery or fifty research grants or whatever. He dives right back in, kissing Stan, and sinking twelve nails into her hips as he drags them together. Stan groans, feeling the already hard tent go even harder against her, and her skin is on fire again, but this time melting the frigid parts of nerves into a liquid heat that's flowing directly down into her stomach, warming her up inside. Ford's hands move quick, from pushing the straps of her tank top down until she feels breeze touch her nipples to taking no sensitive measures to tugging and eventually ripping her boxers off her. Ford pulls away, and drags is mouth onto her neck then chest and Stan finally gets to put her hands on his shoulders, how big and strong he's gotten. One goes through his half greyed hair, and even when he was a teen she loved the dark, curly mop she'd pull into a noogie, but now it just makes him look better.

It makes her so mad, specially with what a grade A dick he's been. But she can't be that mad when Ford reaches her boob and takes a nipple into his mouth, nipping then sucking hard. "Shit—" Stan hisses, and there's nothing more to say than that.

"Fuck, Stan," Ford mutters against her skin, his breath tickling with the wetness on her nipple. "You drive me crazy."

"You're the one who fucked– ah– with Nymphs," She points out, and yeah maybe she could be a little jealous about that, but it dissapates when his fingers make their way into the warm, wetness of her pussy, just as special as Stan imagined it'd be. "Were– hh– they g-good lays, at least?"

"Not what I dealed with them for," Ford repeats, like that answers anything, and sinks loudly onto his chair, right between Stan's knees. His eyes drag down slowly on Stan, from her definitely fucked up hair, to half down tank top and tits hanging out, to right between her legs, and if Stan wasn't full on blushing then, well she sure was now. For a second it looks like he considers taking off his glasses, before deciding against it. Nerd.

Hooking the back of her knees over his shoulders, he smirks up at her again with that tear-her-apart stare again. "I doubt they'd ever taste this good."

Before Stan could respond to that, Ford's face goes between her thighs and his mouth is on her. If Stan thought she almost came earlier, then she's holding on for dear life when Ford's tongue laps at the outside before sinking deeper into her, sending shockwaves through out Stan. Moaning against her like he's the one getting head, like he's getting off from the taste of her on him alone. The flat of his tongue pushes against tight muscle, the heat almost pulsing, and making the wetness there grow more and more

Fuck, just Holy shit, how did he get this—

"Oh!" Stan gasps, one hand finding her own breast and the other on his desk, barely feeling the cold anymore with the clashing heat taking up her whole body, and all she can really feel is Ford's nose bumping against her bush when he only lets up for his teeth to graze against the nub of her clit while his fingers take over below. Stretching her out with his big, thick fingers, just so he could watch her like some pervy, old—

Then he sucks gently on it, and Stan is seeing white.

"Shit– Ford, I'm–"

"Just let it out, Stan," He says, still mostly against her. "You've been so good this whole time.

Thick thighs closing around Ford's head, that's what does her in. Of course it is. Her mind completely blanks out, turning to the white static on TV for a few moments until she realizes she's riding the rest of her orgasm on Ford's mouth at the end of it, while he laps it up like he'd die if he doesn't, like he's the cursed one.

Stan could barely register the murmurred whispers of her name and the movements of his arm from under the desk she's on until he's letting out a shuddering breath, forehead against her belly. Stan couldn't help the grin lighting up her face then.

Great, at least she's not the only one.

Just like that, the heat... doesn't really leave. Just wrapped around her cozily like the trenchcoat Ford threw over her when he finally stands up, only to drag Stan back on his lap. She's not getting used to that thirty years long honed strength anytime soon.

"Suppose I have a new more effective measures now," Ford says, lips finding Stan's, and she could taste herself on there, passed like a secret.

She's not getting used with this affection either, but Stan wants to see Ford try.

They stay a couple of moments there basking in this glow, until Stan peers up again, scratching the back of her neck when realization hits her.

"Hey, Sixer... you're the one cleaning that carpet upstairs, right?"

[graciegoeskrazy]

if i believe u

matty healy + daughter!r (ft. gabbriette, charli, and george!)

warnings: angsty asf but what did u except, matty says he regresas being a dad, step moms(???), queen gabbriette, shitty matty, lying, yelling, a curse word or two, just general family angst, longest one if written in awhile, george n charli

a/n: first matty daughter r in awhile but 5 SEPERATE PEOPLE ASKED FOR THIS so i had to do it obvi. btw im not hating on gab she’s actually the hero of this story i will not tolerate gabbriette slander only matty slander eheheh. ty to my lovely anons who requested it makes me happy🤭

r is about 13 ish

Your dad said him and Gabby were going out to dinner while you were at your end of the year dance. It was an event for middle schoolers, nothing crazy, but they figured they’d take advantage of a couple hours to themselves by having a romantic dinner out. He said they’d be home well before you ended your night, and to just text when you got home.

“I’m home!”

You were met with no answer. You didn’t think much about it and went to your room, starting to take off your jewelry from the night.

“Hey, dancing queen.” He said, appearing in the doorway.

You smiled at his comment, looking back at him. “How was dinner?” You asked.

He cleared his throat before speaking. “Good…really really good.”

You thought his response was interesting, but didn’t look to much into it, just taking off your heels from the evening.

“Where’s Gabby?” You asked.

“Bedroom. Thought i’d talk to you in private for a second.”

You turned back suddenly. “About what?” He chuckled when your face turned to worry so quickly.

“Nothing bad. Don’t worry. No one is dead.”

You smiled back, crossing your arms. “Then what is it?”

He looked down at his hands, specifically one finger.

He rarely wore new rings, always sticking to the same ones. You quickly noticed he was grazing over a new one.

One that laid on a certain finger.

You already knew your answer, but you asked anyway, “What’s that?”

He showed a coy smile, while examining the ring on his own finger. “An engagement ring.” He said, smiling.

A part of himself couldn’t believe it. You definitely couldn’t believe it either.

“You’re engaged?” You asked, voice quiet.

“Yeah,” He said, with a faded breath. “Yeah honey, I am.”

Your voice became quiet. “To Gabby?”

“Yeah.” His smile wouldn’t go away. He hasn't smiled like that in so long. A part of you wanted to take a picture of it. Another part of you wanted to wipe it off his face.

“Wow.” was all you could say at the moment.

You spoke after a second of silence. “Are you sure about this dad?”

“About what? Marrying the love of my life?”

He started to get defensive right away. “I mean, Dad, I don’t know her.” You let out a short laugh and smile, as if that should’ve been obvious. “Yeah, she’s been nothing but nice but, you haven't been dating for even a year? And now what? She’s gonna move in with us?”

You saw his face turn. “No, we’re moving in with her.” He said quickly.

You couldn’t believe it. And the fact that he said it as if it was the most obvious thing in the world made it harder. “Wh-what about London?”

He started to look anywhere but at you. “We’re gonna move to the states, baby.”

He can’t be serious.

You blinked at him, unsure if this was a dream. “So…I get zero say in this?”

He scoffed. “God forbid I try and give you some stability in life- a family.”

Your blood started to boil. “She’s not even old enough to be my mother.”

“Y/n Healy!”

“And what stability? My life has been a faltering mess since you’ve opened your mouth!” Your voice was now at ten, his not far behind.

“Do not talk to me like that young lady.” He stood straighter, in full authoritative dad mode.

“Don’t talk like what? Don’t tell the truth?” His eyebrow quirked. “You know full well the reason people dropped me, or the reason I had to switch friend groups is because of the stupid shit you’ve said.” He sighed, he knew you were right about that one. “Dad, it’s not that you’re getting married, it’s the fact that you didn’t even think to tell me!”

“I thought you would be happy! This is good news!”

“What about this conversation we’re having screams ‘happiness’?” You said while gesturing between the two of you.

“Oh, so you hate Gabby?”

You rolled your eyes. “I don’t hate Gabby- I never said I did!”

“Oh so, you just don’t want me to marry her. You don’t want me to be happy.” He started to get protective, voice full of venom.

“I never said that ethier!” You were growing tired.

“Then what is it?”

You felt that it was painfully obvious, but clearly not. “Dad, my whole life is here. My school, my only friends, my home, and you’re just gonna take that away from me in an instant? Without any warning?” He started getting angry. You kept going.

“You didn’t even think about asking me!”

“I wouldn’t have to think about asking if you weren’t here!”

And there it was. The truth. The thought you’ve been dreading to hear since the moment you found out your existence wasn’t exactly planned. The straw that broke the camels back. The words you knew were always true, but never thought you’d actually hear him say.

Your world went blurry after that. Gabbriette stormed in, yelling “Matty!”, and shielding you from your father and any other personal or verbal attacks he might make, but the truth was that he recognized his mistake right after he said it.

He promised himself, right after you were born, he would never make you feel like a mistake. A burden. He wouldn’t be one of those dads. But here he was, frozen. Standing in front of his fiancé while she hold his baby girl, sobbing, because of his words. Because he made her feel that way.

You cried into her. She held you close. Your father slowly became aware of his mistakes and what he had done. Gabbriette looked at him, still holding on tight to you. “Get out.”

He swallowed. “I didn’t mean-“

“Get out Matthew.” She said sharply.

He walked out of the room, closing the door behind him.

It felt like the weight of the world came crashing down on your shoulders. The truth, finally free, so heavy that you couldn’t keep up anymore, you came falling down with it.

Gabby knew he didn’t entirely mean it. But, her focus was on the task at hand. And that was getting you back to feeling safe. You sobbed and sobbed into her, the cries getting more violent over time. “It’s alright, i’ve got you.” She brought you to the bed, soothing you and kissing your head gently. “I’m right here.”

—————

Matty woke up the next morning with a raging headache. He turned to find his fiancé’s side of the bed empty and cold. He sighed.

The knocks wouldn’t stop. He begrudgingly leapt out of bed and to the front door. When he opened the door he was met with Charli and George, standing side by side. Both still in lounge clothes but Charli wide awake, compared to George who looked half asleep.

“What did you do to your daughter now?” She asked, crossing her hands over her chest, voice full of power.

Matty tried rubbing his eyes awake, but it was no use. “What?” he asked, voice full of sleep.

Charli ignored him and flew past him through the house. “You think my kid was really capable of keeping her mouth shut? Baby?! Auntie Charli is here!!!”

George, still in his sleepy state, met his friend, closing the door behind him. “What did you do man?”

Matty sighed, putting his hands over his eyes to block out the peaks of sun coming in as he made his way to the living room. “I messed up.”

George rolled his eyes, “Well clearly because Charli wouldn’t wake me at 7am if it wasn’t important.”

Matty groaned and leaned back. “How did she even know?”

George shrugged, “Your girl must’ve texted ours.” Matty hummed. “She swore to y/n she wouldn’t tell us, but she was worried about what you said to her. Came crying to us this morning.”

George patted him on the shoulder and started to leave the room. “I’m making coffee. Go put pants on and then tell me what happened.”

—————

earlier that morningr - 4am

You only left your bed once after the fight and it was only to change out of your dress from the dance and into pjs Gabbriette gathered for you after much convincing that you’d be more comfortable.

She brushed your hair back and into a ponytail. When she tried to leave after you finally settled, you begged her in your sleepy state to stay.

So she did.

Come 4 am, you were wide awake. Unable to get your fathers words out of your mind. “Are you awake?” You said.

“Yeah.” She said.

It took you a second but she spoke. “I’m sorry, Gabby.”

She opens her eyes and turned to face you, grabbing your face softly with one hand in the process. “You have nothing to apologize for, y/n-”

You started crying at the gesture. “I don’t hate you! I swear I don’t! He’s lying-“

She shushed you. “I know you don’t, sweet girl. He’s just trying to get in your head after everything.”

You slowly nodded and she sighed. “You need to know that you did nothing wrong. Ever.”

Your cries turned to sniffles. “Yes I did.”

“What did you do?”

“I existed?”

She knew this is how you really felt, and it hurt her so much to realize that the person who was supposed to be the love of her life did this to his own daughter. He made you feel this way. Nothing or no one else. “Honey, that’s not true.”

“Yes it is. He said it!”

“Well what he said was wrong.” She said frim, yet caring. “No doubt about it.”

The sniffles slowly softened even more over time. After a minute or two in comfortable silence, you spoke. “I hope you still love him though.”

She laughed, not expecting your honest remark. “Unfortunately, I still do. With all my heart.” She didn’t miss the smile that danced on your lips. “Go back to sleep. I don’t need him clouding your thoughts when you’re trying to get your beauty rest.”

You closed your eyes, snuggling closer to her, hand quickly grazing over hers in the process. “Damn girl, that’s a big fucking rock.” You said.

She laughed and smiled.

—————

She explained everything to Chali when she woke them up the next morning. You hid in the bed, crying. You had thought so but she did confirm that she was eavesdropping the entire time. You didn’t mind though. She had your back and that was all that matters.

—————

Matty sat on the edge of his bed, staring at the framed picture he held in his hands. Your bright, innocent smile seemed to mock him, reminding him of the days when you would run into his arms after school, eager to share every detail of your day, no matter how mundane it was.

He thought about how you stood by him, through it all. It didn’t matter if it was family issues, band drama, or even his drug addiction. He loved the fact he didn’t have to pretend to be someone for you, not a rockstar, a perfect son or friend, just Dad, your Dad. And for a very very very long time, that was all you needed.

The house felt colder, quieter. He took a deep breath, running a hand through his hair, and stood up.

It was time. Gabbriette had left for some errands earlier that morning, making a point to look your father dead in the eyes and telling him to ‘man up and do it.’ Truthfully, he couldn’t let another day pass without trying to bridge the gap between the two of you. With determined steps, he walked down the hallway to your room. He knocked gently on the door, the sound echoing louder than he anticipated in the silent house. “Baby? Can we talk?” he called, his voice wavering slightly. No response. He knocked again, a little louder this time.

“Baby girl, please. I just want to talk.”

Still nothing. He sighed, leaning his forehead against the door. “I’m coming in,” he said softly, turning the knob and pushing the door open.

You were sitting at your desk, your back to him, headphones on, absorbed in a sketchpad. Your long curly hair, nearly identical to the ones Matty used to embrace, cascaded down your back, slightly hiding your face from him. He took a step inside, the creak of the floorboard announcing his presence.

“Y/n?” he tried again, his voice barely above a whisper.

You didn’t turn around. He could see your shoulders tense, though, and he knew you heard him. Guilt twisted in his stomach, but he pressed on.

“I’m sorry, Y/n. For everything.”

There was a flicker of movement; you paused your drawing but didn’t remove your headphones. Matty felt a pang of desperation.

“I know I’ve made mistakes. Big ones. And I know I’ve hurt you,” he continued, his voice cracking. “I was so caught up in my own problems that I didn’t see how it was affecting you. And for that, I’m truly sorry.”

He watched as your hand gripped the pencil tighter. It was a small reaction, but it was something. He took another step closer, now standing just a few feet behind you.

“I miss you,” he said, his voice barely audible. “I miss our talks, our laughs. I miss my daughter.”

Slowly, you reached up and removed your headphones, placing them carefully on the desk. You didn’t turn to face him, but your silence spoke volumes. Matty took it as an invitation to continue.

“I don’t expect you to forgive me right away. Or even talk to me. I just… I just needed you to know how sorry I am.”

There was a long pause. Matty felt the weight of the silence pressing down on him, each second stretching into an eternity. He opened his mouth to say something else but then closed it, unsure of what more he could add.

Finally, you spoke, voice barely a whisper. “You can’t just say sorry and expect everything to be okay.”

Your words, though quiet, felt like a punch to his gut. He nodded, though you couldn’t see him. “I know,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “I know.”

“It’s not that simple, Dad,” Your voice broke slightly. “You hurt me. A lot.”

He felt tears welling up in his eyes. “I know I did. And I hate myself for it. But I love you, darling. More than anything in the world. You know that.”

You finally turned around, eyes red and filled with tears. You looked at him for a long moment, searching his face for something—truth, perhaps, or sincerity. Your dad held his breath, afraid to move, afraid to break whatever fragile connection you had in that moment.

“You said you regret having me,” you said, voice trembling. “That you wished I wasn’t here- How do you expect me to forgive that?”

His heart shattered at your words. He knelt down beside your chair, looking up at you. “Darling, I was wrong. I was so wrong. I was overwhelmed and stressed, and I lashed out in the worst possible way. I didn’t mean it. Not for a second.”

You looked up, blinking away the tears streaming down your face. “But you said it. You can’t just take it back.”

“I know,” he said, voice breaking. “I know I can’t. But please believe me when I say I didn’t mean it. I love you more than anything in this world. You are the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

You wiped your eyes with the back of your hand. “It doesn’t feel like it.”

Matty felt desperation clawing at him. “I’ve been a terrible father, y/n. I let my own problems cloud my judgment. But I want to change. I need to change. For you. For us. That’s why maybe this whole engagement thing isn’t a bad idea?”

You sniffled again, giving a serious look, “I don’t hate Gabby.”

He sighed, “I know you don’t-“

“You really hurt me, Dad.” Your eyes were filled with pain and tears.

He nodded, tears streaming down his face. “I know, sweetheart. And I’m so, so sorry. I’ll do whatever it takes to make things right. Just… please give me a chance.”

You looked down at your work, fingers tracing the lines you’d drawn. Matty watched you, his heart aching for a sign of hope.

“I don’t know if I can forgive you,” you said softly. “Not yet.”

Matty nodded, his heart heavy. “I understand,” he said gently. “I’m not asking you to. I just want you to know that I’m here. And I’m not going anywhere.”

You looked at him, eyes searching his face. “Do you really mean it?” you asked, voice small. “That you’re sorry?”

Matty met your gaze, his eyes filled with tears, and smiled. “With all my heart,” he said. “I’m so, so sorry, my love.”

You held his gaze for a long moment, then nodded, a single tear sliding down your cheek. “Okay,” you whispered. “We’ll see.”

Matty smiled through his tears, a small, hopeful smile. It was a start, a glimmer of hope in the darkness. And for now, that was enough.

[pokechbi]

I love your writing so much!! I was wondering if you could write about könig and ghost finding out that y/n is a couple years older than them! How would they react? If you’re not taking requests feel free to ignore this!!! Thank you!!

Hi ♡ Anon ♡ !!! Tysm !!! I'm so glad you love my writing. Thank you for the very unique idea !! I was so lost at how to even go about this at first but once i started i literally could not stop! So ty! Ya'll are bringing me out of my writers funk fr im so so grateful 💗

JSYK: I know zilch about military stuff so forgive me for any inaccuracies!

WC: 1.1K ♡

Enjoy ��

♡Konig & Ghost find out you're a few years older than them...♡

König

During the time that the KorTacs and T141 had joined forces, you had gotten pretty comfortable around the newcomers. Specifically one big, mountain of a man named König. He was a no-nonsense man when it came to his work, but aside from his duties he fared to be a pretty decent friend that you often hung around in your free time. You often asked him about his life in the military, learning many skills of the trade since he was a Colonel, and you had only managed to grow yourself to second lieutenant, the lowest commissioned officer rank.

While you were on the topic of years spent in the army, somehow your ages came into play and while he was still protective of revealing his exact age to anyone, he lead you on with the fact that he was in his mid-thirties. You were no priss, so talking about your age was something you didn't mind. When you revealed to him that you were a few years older than him over lunch, he paused, taking in your new revelation.

"You're older than me? How can that be? You look so...young" He trails off, stabbing at his lunch with his fork. You glanced at him, a surprised look on your face as you chuckled. He wasn't the kind of man to give out compliments very often, so it scratched a new itch hearing him use them on you. "Well thank you, that's very kind of you, König" She replied, her eyes darting from his eyes to the table.

"You carry yourself very well. Physically and emotionally, so I guess it's no surprise that you're older than some of us." He continues, his German accent thick on some words more than others. You smile at him as you blush slightly, waiting for him to finish chewing so he can continue speaking. "There's a quote, by the German novelist Franz Kafka. Youth is happy because it has the capacity to see beauty. Anyone who keeps the ability to see beauty never grows old." He clears his throat. "So...never stop seeing your beauty, I guess." He pauses after speaking, standing suddenly as he walks away from the table, striding towards the door before you could begin to reply.

You knew his social anxiety had caused him to distance himself from people sometimes, but you had no idea why he was still anxious near you after all the time you'd spent together. You were only just friends, right?...Right?

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Ghost was fond of you, unlike some of his other unit members of T141. He admired the way you carried yourself on the field, possessing a natural leadership instinct that he had worked endlessly, for years to attain. He envied you at times. He envied your ability to take risks without much thoughts of consequences, and you always trusted your gut. Which 100% of the time proved to be right. He knew it was some weird woman's instinct that always overpowered him. It sometimes embarrassed him when you outdid him mentally, standing your ground and showing him who's boss in front of his soldiers. While you were still under his command, he saw you as his right hand woman, always by his side to have his back when he needed you.

The team had just finished a debriefing for the new upcoming mission that you all were set to leave for in a few days time. You reeled at the information that was revealed, running your hands over your face in frustration. He sat by your side, trying to cheer you up with his sarcastic jokes and self-deprecative witticisms. Ignoring him, you shook your head as you flipped through the classified files once more.

"In all of my 37 years of living, I haven't come across a terrorist quite like him. Jesus." You sigh, standing to your feet as you begin to pace the room.

"Excuse me?" He stood suddenly, pacing over to you slowly. Your neck cranes as he approaches you, towering over you like a building. You hated when he did this. You placed a hand on his chest, trying to push him backwards. "Come on, Simon. Back up. You know I hate when you do that." You say frustrated, your hand meeting his hard chest as you swallow hard. He doesn't budge, staring down into your eyes as he bores a hole into your very soul.

"Never mind that." He disregards her demand, stepping closer to her. "You're...older than me? Since when?" He asks in disbelief.

You chuckle at him, the smile falling from your face as you realized that he wasn't making one of his stupid jokes. "Yeah... so? What's wrong with that?" You say, crossing your arms over your chest, causing your breasts to perk up the slightest bit. His eyes slyly graze over your covered cleavage under your tight black turtleneck, so quickly you wouldn't have caught it if you blinked. Realizing what he was staring at caused your stomach to flutter, your gaze shying away from his as you drop your arms to your sides. You were alone in the room now, the silence thickening the air between the two of you and making it hard to breathe.

"Uhh... No. Nothing's wrong with that, it's just..." He trails off, ending his sentence with a chuckle. "It's just that what, Simon?!" You press, raising your voice at him the slightest bit. Your blossoming friendship with him was on the line, and you gave him a stare that read: choose your next words carefully, boy.

"It's just that...It explains a lot. How you've always been so... confident. So right about everything. I get where that's all coming from now." He chuckles softly, rubbing a hand on the back of his neck, scratching under the hem of his balaclava. "Trust me, I like it more than you know." He finishes.

You smile at him slightly and nod your head, suddenly understanding why Simon had favored you all this time, the puzzle pieces all fitting together now. You realized that he liked the fact that you acted older than him. Your usual feminine maturity making him feel secured in his team. You made him feel confident in his actions, as long as he was by your side. There also might have been another reason he wasn't upset at all at this news, and that was because Simon "Ghost" Riley, had a thing for being controlled by a woman in power.

There was now a clear cut reason he'd tag along next to you in his free time more than usual, asking for your advice on career-altering and mission-making decisions. He trusted you, more than a friend, more than his soldier. He trusted you as his woman, even if you didn't know you were his yet.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

[brairslair]

Hey!! I loved your Peter Parker fic!!

I hope you're taking requests, if yes can you please write harry potter x ravenclaw!reader? Where reader is a muggleborn and loves muggle music, she does this thing where she gives all her friends a song which reminds her of them, even multiple to Hermione (who secretly loves it and listens to those on loop) and ron( who tries to act like he doesn't care but secretly feels loved) but she's never given harry a song, despite him being her best friend. But after one of DA meetings they are alone and harry asks her why doesn't she give him a song (fallin' all in you- Shawn Mendez) and she plays it for him a and that it reminds her of him, AND THEY KISS!!

I'm really sorry if it's too specific, please feel free to change anything! THANK YOU SM!! I LOVE YOUR FICS!!❤️❤️✨

definitely not too specific! i love that you gave me so much to work with, so ty anon! i did switch it up a little bit, but i hope it turned out to your liking!

318 Hours 43 Minutes ˗ˏˋ H.J.P ´ˎ˗

“Be my summer in a winter day, love”

harry potter x ravenclaw!reader

WORD COUNT: 2.3k

REQUESTED: yes requests are open! fandoms: marvel, stranger things, harry potter (any era), scream

WARNINGS: fem reader, not proofread, fluff fluff fluff, muggleborn!reader, reader is described as somewhat of a musical prodigy, modern music, mobile phones, and spotify all exist in this timeline, 7th year, kissing, idiots in love, best friends to lover ig, joking mentions of death, lmk if i missed smth!

A/N: i'm sure there are tons of grammatical errors in here but lets pretend we don't see them!

ALL CHARACTERS IN THIS STORY ARE 18+ remember to like, comment, and reblog to support my writing!

If there was one thing you couldn't live without, it would be music. It was almost impossible to recall a time you had left your dorms without your headphones. Music had just always been a huge part of your life. Growing up, your parents got you into piano lessons, and you were playing Beethoven by the end of the first month. After that, you picked up as many instruments as you could afford, starting with violin, then guitar, the flute, and now the harp. Your parents had to soundproof the house.

Once you got your acceptance into Hogwarts as a witch, your whole world turned upside down. You were sorted into Ravenclaw, which felt very fitting, and were assigned a dormmate, Padme Patil. The two of you clicked immediately and became instant friends. After a few months of hanging out with the Patil sisters, you were introduced to three Gryffindor students in your year; Ronald Weasley, Hermione Granger, and Harry Potter. Instantly, you felt some sort of a connection pulling you to them, but you couldn't put your finger on it.

You started hanging out with "The Golden Trio", as you affectionately called them, all the time, and the four of you eventually became a quartet. You had grown especially close with Harry, and the two of you did almost everything together. Well, everything except study.

After one particular study date with Hermione, you were thrilled to learn that she shared the same love for muggle music as you did. The two of you rambled on and on about your favorites, uncharacteristically losing track of your studies.

"The song Rises the Moon reminds me a lot of you!" You mindlessly exclaimed, watching as Hermione's eyes lit up.

The rest was history. You were known to associate songs with the people around you, and you had no shame in telling them. You had given Hermione, Ron, and the Patil sisters a countless number of songs over the years. In fact, you had given them so many, that a few had made playlists to keep track of all of them. Ron was the most hesitant to accept the recommendations, but Hermione told you she had caught him singing along to them in the common room on multiple occasions.

Every once in a while, you would even see another student studying in the library, maybe one you had only said 'Hello' to in passing, and a song would just scream out to you so loudly that you had to leave them a note about it as you left.

It was like your own personal love language, and you loved being able to make people smile, even if they never listened to the song.

The one person close to you whom you had never given a song to, was the infamous Harry Potter, and it was painfully hard for him to ignore. After almost seven years of being best friends, you would think he would have been worthy of at least one song, right?

He watched as you expertly conjured up the Draught of Peace potion the class was supposed to be working on, smacking Ron's hand away when he goes to touch it. Watching you was the only thing that made this class somewhat bearable.

He can't get it out of his head... the fact that you've never given him a song. He's been thinking about it non-stop since you gave that Hufflepuff boy a song in the dining hall a few days ago.

It wasn't news to him that he had been in love with you since 5th year, probably longer than that before he had even realized, but he would sooner die than admit it out loud.

You were the most important person in the world to him, but he was almost positive you didn't feel the same way. He would never be able to forgive himself if he ruined your friendship. So, he just kept his big mouth shut and pretended like there was nothing there.

He thought he was really good at faking it too. He wasn't.

Anyone with eyes could see the way he looked at you, the way he spoke to you, the way his smile looked ten times brighter when you were around. It was blatantly obvious he had it bad for you.

What wasn't as obvious was that you were just as infatuated with him as he was with you. You may have been much better at hiding it, but anyone close to you could see it clear as day. I mean, it was silly really. The way you were both so stupidly in love and too scared to see it.

Harry snapped to attention as Professor Snape called on him, spitting out to 'straighten his spine and get back to work'. He grumbled something under his breath before following instructions. When he looked back at you, he found your eyes already on him, giggling at the scene he had caused before returning to your schoolwork. He loved hearing your laugh.

As the class ended, Harry gathered his things into his bookbag, slinging it over his shoulder as he straightened his robes. Snape was the first to leave the classroom, followed by a small swarm of students who were anxious to get back to the common rooms for some much-needed free time. Harry looked over to where you and Ron had been sitting, watching you pull out a scrap of parchment with messy little scribbles on it, before sliding it over to the red head.

"I found a new song the other night, and it reminded me so much of you, I just had to write it down before I forgot the title." You smiled, watching Ron look over the writing, thanking you awkwardly as he shoved it into his pocket.

Harry suddenly felt his pockets get lighter.

"I'll be in the library with Hermione tonight. Wants to tutor me for Transfiguration." He said in an annoyed tone, though you knew he was secretly looking forward to it. "You wanna come? Could use all the help I can get."

Harry secretly hoped you would say no.

You packed up all your belongings, making sure not to forget any of your notes, "Yeah, sure! Just have to do a few things first, but I can stop by in a bit." You smiled, the way you always do, as you shoved folders into your bag.

"Alright," Ron nodded, "I'll see you." He said as you waved each other goodbye, Ron heading for the exit. "Oh hey, Harry." He threw out casually as he left the room, calling attention to the boy in the back of the otherwise empty classroom.

You quickly turned around, smiling brightly when you saw him still sitting awkwardly in his seat. "Oh hey, Harry!" You repeated, "You're still here?"

Harry regained common sense then, now realizing he had been staring at you for the past hour, he stood from his seat and walked over to you. "Yeah..." He trailed off dumbly, still in his own thoughts. He head got cloudy as your perfume surrounded him.

He had debated on bringing it up for the past few months, but was to scared of your response. Honestly at this point, he could barely focus on anything BUT asking you about it. He figured that at this point it would be better to just get it over with. Like ripping off a bandaid.

"Hey, uh... Could I ask you something?" His voice cracked.

"Yeah, of course!" You finally slung the bag over your shoulder, giving Harry your full attention. "Ask away."

Your voice sounded sickly sweet, and it somehow made him more nervous. "Alright... Well, uh, I was just wondering-" He felt far too vulnerable to look into your eyes, so instead he looked at your shoulder. He had to clear his throat, "I was wondering why you've never given me a song?" He slurred out, trying to act casual about it while his heart was beating at top speeds.

Your smile immediately dropped, and Harry's stomach fell into his shoes at the sight. Now it was your turn to avoid eye contact, looking down at your feet and chewing on your cheek as you debated a response.

Harry felt like he was about to pass out. His hands grew clammy, and he could hear his heart hammering in his ears. The only times he had ever seen you not smiling were when something really terribly tragic had happened, or when your friends were upset themselves. This had to be a bad sign, right?"

Meanwhile, a million thoughts swirled through your head. You had hoped he hadn't noticed the exclusion, but you knew it was only a matter of time before he brought it up. You felt sick to your stomach. How could you lie your way out of this one? You hated lying, especially to Harry, and you didn't want to hurt him. Could you really risk telling him the truth? What if he freaks out and goes running for the hills and all your years of friendship are ruined?

"You know what, it doesn't matter." Harry brushed off weakly, starting to back away from you, "I don't need to know! It's no big deal, just forget I even said anything-"

"Harry, wait-" you instinctually grabbed his hand, making him freeze. You let go to reach into your bag, Harry cautiously getting closer. His confusion increased when you pulled your phone out, rapidly typing on it to pull something up. When you finally found it, you took a deep breath. Once he saw what you were about to show him, there would be no turning back. Finally, you made yourself turn the phone around so Harry could see the screen.

It was a private playlist titled "For Harold", and the cover photo was a picture that Hermione took of the two of you after a snowball fight last Christmas break. Falling all over each other in laughter, completely covered in snow.

You handed the phone to him, limbs shaking too much to hold it steady. He looked below the title to see the timestamp read 318h 43m.

You felt like your stomach was being tied in knots.

"This is why I've never given you a song." You admitted quietly. His expression was hard to read. Brows furrowed and mouth slightly open in shock. "I just... There were too many that reminded me of you."

Harry still hadn't looked at you or said a word, and you started to feel like you'd bounce right off the floor with how much you were vibrating.

Then he stopped scrolling, staring at the title of one particular song much too long for your liking. Even worse, he pressed play. As soon as the song started, you shrunk down into the desk behind you.

Sunrise, with you on my chest No blinds in the place where I live Daybreak, open your eyes Cause this was only ever meant to be for one night We're changing our minds here Be yours, be mine, dear

You busied yourself by playing with your fingers, looking absolutely anywhere but at Harry.

So close with you on my lips Touch noses, feeling your breath Push your heart and pull away, yeah Be my summer in a winter day, love

You started to feel incredibly antsy, regretting ever showing him the playlist. "We really don't have to listen to the whole thing-"

I can't see one thing wrong Between the both of us Be mine, be mine, yeah Anytime, anytime

You squeezed your eyes shut to try and save yourself from some embarrassment, but when you opened them, you found Harry looking at you with the biggest smile you'd ever seen in your life. Your belly flipped.

You are bringing out a different kind of me There's no safety net that's underneath, I'm free Fallin' all in you Fell for men who weren't how they appear, yeah Trapped up on a tightrope now we're here, we're free Fallin' all in you

Harry was beaming, putting the phone down on the desk beside him. He slowly made his way closer to you, and no matter how badly you wanted to look away from him, you couldn't.

He was now so close to you that you could feel his breath fan across your lips, and the song faded in the background as your heart pounded. "Is this how you really feel? About me?" He asked as his cheeks turned pink, and you couldn't help but find the silly question endearing.

You nodded your head, deciding that your voice would give out if you tried to speak right now. The eye contact was almost unbearable, and you broke it with a quick glance down to his lips.

The second you did, his lips were immediately on yours, pressing hard into you. You gasped against his lips in shock. You felt like your whole body was on fire.

He pulled away too soon, mumbling a boyish "Sorry about that-", before you chased his lips and pulled them back down to yours, muffling the rest of his apology. This time it lasted.

Your lips felt like they were home against his, moving slow and sweet, like you had all the time in the world. You sighed happily into the kiss, pouring the years of pent-up feelings out for each other. His lips tasted like pumpkin, and butterbeer, and the sweet vanilla chapstick you gave him. It made you giggle a little against his lips.

You melted as he mindlessly cornered you against the desk, his hands gently holding your face like you were made of glass. You wrapped your arms around his neck to ground yourself. His lips curled up into a smile against yours, and you involuntarily matched the expression. It all felt so... right. Like all of the pieces were finally falling into place.

Unfortunately, you both need oxygen, so you were forced to pull away. He rested his forehead against yours, as you share the air between you. You pulled him impossibly closer, nudging his nose with yours, both knowing you felt just as lovesick for each other.

Then your phone dinged. Harry looked down at the message from Ron, reading "Hey, you still coming tonight?"

He picked it up to respond, "Can't, sorry!" before flipping it over carelessly, both of you giggling as he pulled you back for another kiss.

i had so much fun writing thissss ugh this was such a sweet prompt. tysm anon!

[hughiecampbelle]

The Boys Preference: Having The Same Abilities As Wolverine

Requested: Heyy! Can I request a the boys preference where reader is a supe who pretty much has wolverine's powers? Ty!! - @ghostlyaccurate

Requested: Hii can I request the boys pref x female wolverine? <33 - anon

A/N: Reminder my loves! Everything is written as gender neutral, I don't write specifically freader or mreader. I hope you like it! I am working 100% from Wolverines Wikipedia page lol since I forget most of his powers. Feedback is always appreciated 💜💜💜

Butcher finds your abilities both disgusting and impressive. Your super sight, smell, etc. are really helpful in certain situations. He jokingly calls you their own personal Tek Knight, which you shut down immediately. What's disgusting is when your claws come out, breaking through the skin of your knuckles. There's a lot of blood. There's a lot of pain even with your healing. And something about them just freaks him out. You jokingly try to poke him with them, touch him with them, and though he'd never admit it, he absolutely hates the feeling. There's just something wrong about them that he can't pinpoint or describe. They're helpful for sure and watching you use them is always gory, he'd just like for them to go away as quickly as possible.

Hughie finds you fascinating. The healing and the claws are always cool, but it's the fact that you're so much older than all of them, so much more experienced, and yet you age so little. Because you're body heals so well, you age at a slower rate than the rest of the world. While that's not totally new for Supes, he's always interested in hearing about your life. You have so much knowledge, so many more experiences, so many lives lived before this mess took over. You find it the least interesting part of your abilities, but Hughie's always had an appreciation for the underappreciated. He loves to listen to you talk about the past, what the world was like, what Vought and The Seven were like. It wasn't always this fucked, at least that's the conclusion he comes to as you talk. It was fucked, it was a mess, but the introduction of Homelander really set in stone this future.

Annie is your confidant. The healing factor has saved your and others lives countless times, but everyone forgets you can still feel pain. Long after your body has put itself back together, the phantom pain lingers. It's excruciating and, secretly, you live in fear of being torn apart. Days and weeks later, you move as if you're still broken. You'll wake up, confused for a moment, expecting to be torn limb from limb, before you come to your senses. Even your claws leave your hands raw, arthritic. You know Annie thinks about that more than anyone else. You told her one night about the pain and since then she's always been aware, quietly asking you if you're alright. Sometimes the pain goes away in a few hours, other times it takes weeks. It all depends on the severity. You try not to complain, knowing you must sound like a broken record, but she doesn't see it that way.

M.M., kind of like Butcher, is weirded out by your claws. He doesn't mind the healing or the heightened senses. For the most part, those things are hidden. It's the claws he gets the heebie jeebies from. You poke fun at him because of this. Out of all the Supe abilities you could have gotten, claws aren't the oddest thing you could have developed. He is reminded of Webweavers abilities and that puts things into perspective for a little while. He didn't trust you in the beginning. It was hard to show him you weren't just another Supe hopped up on V. You're a lot older than everyone, you've experienced more, you're wiser than he gives you credit for. He learns to trust you because of your level head. In situations where other people would be losing their shit, you're calm, cool, and collected. It isn't your abilities that make him befriend you, it's the person underneath them.

Frenchie both loves and hates your abilities. He finds your claws fascinating. Every time you use them he's left in awe. He loves watching you use them, the way you can hide them and bring them out when they're least expecting it. He doesn't find them weird or odd like his friends. They're amazing. He hates, though, that your heightened senses are basically a lie detector test he fails every time. You know when he's been drinking, smoking, getting high. You try not to make a big deal about it, but you do talk to him about it in private. You know when he's lying, though any non-Supe could figure it out when they learn all his tells. He's not as good as he thinks he is at lying. He's always amazed with your stamina, too. It's something a lot of people tend to overlook about your powers, but he doesn't.

Kimiko and you bond effortlessly. Your abilities are so similar and yet so different. Together you're a fantastic duo, unstoppable. She likes touching your claws, though hates the way they have to come out. She knows what it's like, to have to sacrifice yourself, your body, for the greater good. She knows what it's like to wake up confused and, for a moment, feeling as if you're missing parts of yourself. The two of you work together effortlessly and find a lot of humor in your abilities whereas everyone else sees a severed limb of broken bones, you can see just how silly the body is, how fragile and easily it both breaks and repairs itself. She loves your heightened senses and always tells her what you can find out: M.M. got a new chapstick (strawberry), Butcher ate something with peppers, Annie got Hughie a new cologne, etc.

[vasito-de-leche]

so three things,one I love your hc/analysis on forget me not its *chefs kiss*and nice to see more content on him!! two I do have a request ! I am curious about your hcs for how forget me not would like actually navigate a relationship?

sorry if this is lengthy or if my request is a lot im a lil new to all this !!

;RE1999 FORGET ME NOT - Relationship Headcanons

Compilation of headcanons about Forget Me Not in a romantic relationship.

not lengthy at all, ty for the ask anon! <3 super glad you liked my FMN post too!!

you asked about how I think he'd ACTUALLY navigate a relationship, so I went a little deranged thinking about it cause the guy is FASCINATING to analyze. sorry if you were expecting something else! like, something more romantic? if you just want romance stuff, deffo feel free to leave another ask being more specific!

Right off the bat, Forget Me Not strikes me as a type of person who has a lot of trouble keeping any sort of solid relationships due to his poor interpersonal skills.

Similar to Pavia, he exists outside of conventional society - but unlike Pavia, Forget Me Not has taught himself how to imitate others and mask as a sound, hinged and regular individual. He can charm his way in and out of any conversation, change the tide to his favour and play any role necessary for his goals - but it's all play pretend in the end, because he wholeheartedly believes that none of it is meant to last. Every relationship and connection he makes is done with one purpose in mind: to further his goals.

When someone approaches Forget Me Not intending to seduce or romance him, he plays the role of a perfect gentleman. Or whatever is convenient at the moment, really. His keen eye allows him to quickly discern little details, until he fully figures out your type just so he can adapt accordingly. This is a fantasy that wears off overtime - once you overstay your welcome and outlive your usefulness.

And because Forget Me Not is too much of a coward to risk his reputation and hard work by being the one to break your heart, he manipulates the situation to come out of this relationship scot-free. If you can't find any reason to leave him on your own, don't worry, he'll make sure there's something.

But when it comes to him being interested in someone and navigating a romantic relationship...

When Forget Me Not falls for someone, he falls hard and fast.

I want to insist on the lack of interpersonal skills - Forget Me Not has gone years denying himself of something as simple as a friend, someone to confide in. His whole existence revolves around revenge. To him, there's no space for romance in his life, he has no time for something so "juvenile". He can't fathom the idea of being attracted to anyone. The muscle in his rib cage isn't capable of love, it's just there to keep him alive until the world is rid of humans.

And yet, as blind and oblivious as he may be to his own feelings, Forget Me Not falls hard and fast entirely because of how desperate for connection he is. Attraction is something that paralyzes him and affection is a parasite that worms its way into his heart.

When Forget Me Not falls for someone, he becomes impulsive and reckless, not a lot but just enough to be noticeable by those who see him regularly - there is this slightly intense and unhinged feeling to his words, as opposed to the suave and smooth talk he casually dishes out, like he's itching to unravel and show his true nature right there and then. It's something that you still pick up on, long after that conversation has ended, something that you must've heard incorrectly because it's a little out of character, coming from him.

This is because he has no fucking idea on how to deal with it, because he doesn't even know something is happening to him.

No matter what he does during this state, he finds a way to justify all of his actions because denial is his first and foremost coping mechanism. If he finds himself staring at you from across the room, it's because he's making sure you're behaving. To ensure you're not a spy or cause any trouble to other patrons! If he remembers your favorite drink, it's because he needs to get enough points to be on your good side. After all, you probably have a lot of information he could use. If his hand lingers on yours, it's because he was distracted. Etc, etc.

If it goes on for long enough without any sort of confrontation, it'll start to eat him from the inside. Forget Me Not will think that you're using some arcane skill on him to make him act this way before he acknowledges he has a crush on you. Suddenly, there's a whole new thing occupying his brain - whenever he's not dissociating at home, he's thinking about you and that's dangerous.

Surprises are the way to his heart.

It's very hard to catch his eye, since he doesn't care for appearance nor status - he just doesn't care, period. Again, love isn't an option for someone like him. But the one thing that will absolutely rock his world is being caught off-guard.

Forget Me Not is a great actor, he plays his roles in conversations perfectly, he studies the way people talk to each other, the way one must gesture and move, the appropriate amount of eye contact one should make. He micromanages every single aspect of conversations because diplomacy is his forte, it's something he needs to excel at. Long story short, he knows how each and every conversation should go for him to get his way.

Which is why hearing someone laugh when they shouldn't, a genuine snicker or a chuckle, is enough to give him pause. He's intrigued and lost, because people aren't supposed to behave like that. Not the type of people he's used to, anyway. Condescending laughter is to be expected, everyone is pretending to have fun, but a real laugh? Without any hidden meanings or implications? The audacity to go off-script, regardless of how that might affect you? That's what will inevitably put you right in his sights.

These surprises must start out small, however. Forget Me Not is a very jaded and vindictive person with a very fragile ego and stubborn mind - someone who openly goes against everything he stands for, regardless of whether they're right or not, will end up on his black list. As seen with his reaction to Druvis III choosing to move on from her grief, Forget Me Not doesn't do well with his beliefs being torn to shreds so suddenly.

This mentality about everyone being inherently rotten and bound by so many unspoken rules of conduct and whatnot needs to be challenged little by little. Because at the end of the day, Forget Me Not projects his own baggage onto the world, and he must ease himself into the idea that people (and himself) can have actual depth and be more than just a means to an end.

And sure, he has an obsessive personality - some of his behaviour stems from the need to figure out "the catch", like he's constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop when it comes to you, just so he can go "I knew it!" at the end. Forget Me Not, under all that aloof and detached confidence, is nothing but a wounded animal. Gaining his trust or approval is harder than it is losing it.

On the subject of falling for anyone who isn't a pure blooded arcanist.

There is the possibility that Forget Me Not may fall for a human or mixed - two groups that he, alongside Manus Vindictae, holds with extreme contempt and hatred. Right away, it goes against everything he stands for and, as stated before, he doesn't do well with his beliefs being challenged so abruptly.

Whereas Manus Vindictae is an organization that has no problem being so openly hypocritical in their practices (loathing humans, yet offering them salvation just so that they can be used as pawns), Forget Me Not is an individual who lives mostly within his own head, in a constant state of denial and delusion. The idea of falling in love is already ridiculous to him, I literally just spent so many paragraphs talking about how he needs to ease into the idea of forming any sort of meaningful connection, even if it's something he does yearn for and something that he does so horribly. So imagine the absolute fucking whiplash of falling in love with the representation of everything he despises.

Forget Me Not navigating relationships is already difficult enough, but him trying to navigate a relationship with a human or mixed - especially one that is vocal about his affiliation with Manus and his own opinions - is even harder.

But not necessarily impossible.

However, it would lean towards a godawful and unhealthy dynamic, in which he'll begin to blur the lines between affection and aggression. Think of an ourobos, a permanent loop of Forget Me Not being unable to let go while also pushing you away.

He scrambles to find any "rational" excuse to justify his attraction for you. If you're docile and compliant, he'll insist that you're "different" and "not like other humans" just to remain righteous and true to his beliefs by separating you from your roots. And if you're not afraid to call him out and argue with him, he'll feel validated in his beliefs and latch onto you like a parasite because "you need to be reminded of your place". It's unrealistic to think that Forget Me Not can change his mind and become a better person right away, he would need years to heal from his own baggage and biases, then even more time to undo all the things he's absorbed from Manus Vindictae.

But I know these types of dark relationships aren't everyone's cup of tea, so I won't go into detail about it! Other interpretations in which he manages to get rid of all the toxic sludge that is his emotional baggage and questionable morals are just as valid!

The way Forget Me Not acts when he's in an actual relationship.

Every relationship Forget Me Not has had so far has been for the sake of The Walden and/or Manus Vindictae, and he's always made sure to keep them at arms length anyway - so this would be the very first "proper" and official relationship.

And it's a mess. He reeks of insecurity.

Taking into account everything I've said just far, Forget Me Not could easily put all of that knowledge and masking into treating his partner like the gentleman he pretends to be daily. He could just do that! But it stops coming naturally to him the second he's in your presence. Because the thing that attracted him to you in the first place is all those details that set you apart from his "norm", Forget Me Not is stuck in this area of not knowing whether you'd prefer the person he pretends to be or something else, something he might not be able to provide. Note how it's "something else" and not just himself.

The idea of Forget Me Not as a person falls apart when inspected closely, and so he's left insecure and vulnerable. He latches onto you easily, in private and in public, shifting his focus to revolve around you instead - the brand, new and shiny light in his life - but lacks confidence when it comes to keeping you by his side without any sort of manipulation.

He tries, God, he tries so hard. But I can absolutely see him pull all sorts of moves on impulse. From really childish and petty things (insisting on being the only one to serve you drinks, subtly influencing the seats, so that you always sit somewhere he can see or without any of the other patrons bothering you) to genuinely insidious things (lying both to your face and behind your back to drive the people he considers "undeserving of your attention" away, keep you in the dark about certain topics).

It's a lot of back and forth, establishing boundaries and showing him the lines that shouldn't be crossed so that all these actions don't become the norm. To be in a relationship with him, you'll need a lot of patience to guide him or the backbone to set your foot down when needed. I'd say at this point, he'd definitely respond better to being challenged - you're his partner, after all, he holds you way above everyone else in the room, way above himself as well.

But once he's fully eased into the relationship? When he now knows you like the back of his hand? And you've shown that you're willing to stay, even with all of his faults? He becomes so very clingy, but also much more tired in your eyes.

Forget Me Not's antics - his possessiveness, slightly obsessive behaviour, etc - are replaced instead by this lingering feeling of sadness. Instead of kissing your hand in public to make a statement for the world, he holds your hand in private as if his life depended on it, because he now fully believes the relationship to be too good to last. It's like he's preparing to say goodbye before fully enjoying the present with you. Like you leaving him is not a possibility but the end of the road. Coincidentally, it's this "doomer" mentality what pushes Forget Me Not to be more confident when it comes to being vulnerable around you.

I like to think that Forget Me Not is extremely eloquent when needed, but he's physically incapable of talking about his trauma or any other unpleasant experiences in his life - it's directly a result of all this constant repression. So he wouldn't tell you about it, but he would still hope that you can understand him without the need for words. I just see him as a physical person once comfortable!

[skullpie]

OHMYGOD NEW BLOG THAT WRITES FOR TWO OF MY FAVOURITES??:!189( SCREAMS

anyways is it okay if you just do some silly relationship hcs with joonyeong (aouad) and jaeheon (sweet home) separately I WILL LITERALLY CRY TEARS OF JOY

relationship hcs x

joonyeong x reader; jaeheon x reader (separate)

summary: relationship hcs for joonyeong (aouad) & jaeheon (sweet home)

warning(s): series typical warnings!

note(s): anon based on this request i think u have a type.. side eye.. can’t blame u tho uptight dorks with wire framed glasses are hot ! hope u enjoy lovely :) and ty for being my first request on this blog!! i thought i’d have to put some fics out before i got any so this is rly encouraging. i appreciate you!

joonyeong

such a little nerd

definitely started out as good friends

absurdly proud of the fact that he has a partner

like… him?? he feels so special

(he is)

study dates where he actually intends to study and you distract him the whole time by begging for kisses and sitting on his lap etc

sometimes he caves, sometimes he doesn’t, he takes his academics seriously

but idk the image of you wrapping your arms around his neck and telling him to take a break with you during exams week.. lord….

“i miss my boyfriend”

“we’ve been together for the past three hours”

“but you’ve not been paying any attention to me! :(“

he does help you with work though, he thinks it’s really important

your parents adore him, they think he’s a great influence on you (even if you’re also great at school)

he’s the type to think the secretly hate him, though, so you often go over to his to spend time with each other

really enjoys going to whatever events you’re involved in

even if he doesn’t understand jack shit about any of it

remembers really specific and small details about you for sure

very eager to introduce you to people as “my girlfriend/boyfriend/partner!”

really proud of you and your relationship–does not try to hide that he’s taken

but he overall prefers private intimacy and affection

and very small, gentle forms of it at that

you can fluster him pretty easily tho

i can definitely see a friendly academic rivals to lovers situation happening

when the virus breaks out he never lets you out of his sight

cliché, but if you’re ever accused of being infected, he’s defending you with his life

when you can’t sleep he holds you, which doesn’t make you sleep but it is comforting

tries his hardest to tell you how important you are to him very often while everything is happening

first (and last) l-word is said when he decides to jump out of the barricade to save everyone (sorry ouch)

jaeheon

wholesome wholesome wholesome

he admires you so much

you probably meet in the elevator

he tries talking to you about his lord and savior–you think it’s really endearing how passionate he is

genuinely believes god sent you to him personally like an angel

just always smiling with you

holding hands everywhere you go

very often being mistaken for a married couple when you’re out and even by neighbors

(hyein starts telling people you’re married, and referring to you as ‘that married couple’)

likes holding your face and just admiring you, pressing little kisses to every spot he can think of

basically worships you

not the type to get flustered, per-say but he does get very hesitant and shy about certain levels of intimacy

hugging you from behind and pressing kisses to your shoulder, up your neck and to the top of your head. omg

just very traditionally romantic in the ways he shows you affection

kissing your hand, getting you flowers often, opening the car door for you, etc

biggest gentleman

when you get locked in the apartment building, he becomes bolder, or at least less hesitant about things

literally would die to protect you (and he does)

is always holding onto you in some way in low-intensity situations

the thought of you asking him to teach you how to use his sword, and he does that cute thing where when he goes to teach you, he stands behind you and holds your hands and arms to show you IM ON MY HANDS AND KNEES

forehead kisses. that’s it just forehead kisses

when either of you are given a task, he always makes sure to hold you for at least a minute or two before he leaves. in case it’s the last time (sobs)

really good friends with jisu during the lock-in

you two find comfort in each other after he’s gone (NOT LIKE THAT) ((but also maybe like that idk im not the boss of you))

[blackdollette]

i cannot stop thinking about this because rory always has something around his wrist but reader giving either jack or charlie their scrunchie/hairtie and him wearing it allll the time bc he loves u but specifically uses it to tie his hair up whenever he eats u out

p.s. i love your writing so much thank u for feeding my horny delulu brain <33333

thank you so much, anon 🫶🏽 and as someone who always has at least 5 hairties on my wrists at all times, i love this idea sm!!

"it's not fashionable to love me." | jack thurlow

honeymoon. - lana del rey

female!reader x jack

contents: oral (f receiving), a little ffuff

you and jack had been colleagues for a few years, and he had fallen head over heels for you by the time you had spoken to him for the first time

he loved everything about you. from the way you dressed to the way you held yourself together. you were perfect.

when you two started dating, jack gave you a ring that used to belong to his mother

you didn't really have anything to give him in return, so you gave him a fuzzy little scrunchie that you hadn't taken off your wrist in 7 years

at first, he thought it was a little tacky

it didn't go with anything that he wore, and it stood out in an unappealing way

but overtime, jack felt that it was a little piece of you that he could take everywhere with him

he often had it tied in his hair when it was slicked back into his signature tight bun (your favourite hairstyle of his.)

he loved it so much that sometimes, he found himself fidgeting with it

like whenever he was anxious or stressed, he subconsciously started twirling it around his fingers or something

you noticed this and thought it was the cutest thing ever.

whenever he went down on you, he would leave his hair in its usual free state

he’d keep going until you were a shaky, moaning mess.

until the very second that you were going to reach your orgasm

he would pull away from your aching cunt before taking the hairtie off of his wrist and tying his hair into a ponytail, watching as you sob from having your orgasm denied

he'd only chuckle before getting back to work, his lips once again making contact with your swollen little pussy

you'd occasionally move stray strands of his hair out of his face as your legs trembled in his grip

after hours of teasing you, he'd finally let you release your cum all over his tongue as he hungrily lapped up all the liquids you let out

as you let out a loud moan at the shivering sensation traveling through your body, jack comes up and kisses you on the forehead

he tucked you into bed and got beside you, caressing your beautiful face softly as you both slowly drifted off to sleep

not a day went by where he wasn't wearing your special little hairtie. (omg i rhymed)

author's note: im so glad i got this out before the end of the day. thank you so much for the request and i hope you enjoyed reading!

[moth-related-inquiries]

Hi! I read your oneshot involving Micah and fem child reader and absolutely loved it! I never thought i could see Micah ever taking on the role of a parental figure but you did such a good job tying his character into a role that i thought would never fit him! I was wondering if you could expand more on their dynamic afterwards and how reader would interpret his ‘cull the weak beliefs’ do you think teaching her these would ever come to backfire on him later especially if used against him?

Micah Bell and Fem! Child Reader Pt2: Knives Out

Warnings: incredibly angsty, Micah Bell, you're gonna hate this if u love Micah LOL, lots of murder, terrible beliefs, graphic description of murder, and child death.

tldr: Micah Bell's teachings came to bite him back in the ass. :( Nobody close to him can be happy.

A/n: Hi, Anon! Thank you for the req ♡♡♡ I'm so glad you liked my last fic! I hope you like this one, too. Feel free to send any more requests you might have :p

Listen while you read?:

Today was your third month of 'bonding,' as Micah liked to call it. You'd slowly progressed from being as terrible of a shot as Sean Macguire to being fairly good at your shots. Of course, you weren't as good as Micah, but he congratulated you on your significant progress. Unlike the others, Micah has been surprisingly patient with you. There were a lot of things he had to teach and show you, and you seemed to learn best when you were in the middle of action.

Not only had you become a better shot, but you'd also become a more malleable tool. When you finished your first robbery, Micah decided that from now on you weren't going by your old name. The Bell family had a very specific practice they used when choosing names. For the first time in a long time, he flipped open a Bible and scoured its pages for a suitable name. Eventually, he settled on Elisabeth, the technical grandmother of Jesus. Not because she was a humble or remarkable woman, but because she was stubbornly faithful. Like a dog.

He hoped that, since he'd earned your trust, you'd follow him like a dog to the ends of the earth. And that you did. No matter what he did, where he went, or who he killed, he stayed as your role model. Beyond that, he was also your new father figure. Sure, you liked Dutch and Hosea, but they never saw things from your point of view like Micah did. The Dutch, for one, insisted on the dramatics constantly. He'd make up schemes to entertain himself and some big wig bastard, then steal the money. Which probably would've entertained you if you had the patience. And Hosea, well, he didn't enjoy the 'thrill' of murdering and robbing the same way that you did. Meaning that he liked making a fool of himself and then leaving with a small sum of money.

Not to mention that Micah secretly found both of them to be fools in their own ways. You thought, at first, that he saw you as a fool too, but he assured you that you were anything but. He called you his 'kinfolk.' His kid. You found it odd. He claims to be so strong, yet he practically creates his own weakness. With this idea in mind, you began to dissect some of his flaws.

When the two of you were in camp, you noticed that he was anything but pleasant to the other members. He often harassed and berated many of the women in camp, too, which you found odd. Even odder was the fact that he berated Jack, which made you curious. Was he perhaps jealous of John and Abigail for their achievements? It seemed so. You guessed that he was jealous because he too wanted a family, no matter how dysfunctional. Though he hadn't had much luck considering that, like the stupid man he is, he took his anger out on all the women around him.

Micah Bell could never score a woman, and he knew that very well. And now, so did you. And all you had to do was watch him like you normally do. Every time you did, he'd lean over and whisper in your ear about how someday he's going to get a nice and fine wife, and these floozies are going to be sorry. You knew better. Every time he'd provide some weird back-handed compliment, you wondered if he knew it only made him look weak. He had all bark and no bite. Which, in many cases, he did. All talk until Dutch struts over, then suddenly he's acting like he's a holy deity sworn to do nothing but good.

That was one major weakness you'd noticed about him. His one big fault. Micah seemed to assume that being a snake oil salesman made him a man. A man fit for survival in the natural world. A man who could do whatever he wanted and whenever he wanted as long as he still had his silver tongue. And it did, for a little while. He could go around murdering families and sleep like a little baby the night after. That is, until he met you.

See, Micah Bell had done himself dirty when he began 'training' you. Because, unlike Micah, you shut your mouth, and you watched everyone really well. You waited for someone to come to you, and you didn't, no matter how tough it was to resist, let your guard down. Yet Micah Bell had shown his since the day he decided to mentor you. Sure, you were unaware of the impact of his actions then, but he'd taught you well. He'd gifted you a higher consciousness without even knowing it.

So, after three long months of needlessly long interaction, you put his teachings to work. You woke up bright and early to listen to the birds chirp their jovial toons. It was nice to let the weak be, just for a moment, because sometimes they end up surprising you with their entertainment. Your steel gaze turned to Micah, who was fast asleep on his bedroll, facing the cliffside. He, too, was nice when you left him be. When he did sleep, it looked peaceful. And, for a moment, you decided to let him be, too.

You grabbed your satchel, one that Micah had bought for you, and opened it. From it, you produced a jagged stone that you'd found back in Strawberry, after the pair of you (and Arthur) murdered an entire town. You originally picked it up in order to execute whoever was holding Micah's precious revolvers, but he beat you to it. And, with savagery and cowardice, he murdered another family right in front of you. It was eerily thrilling when you first experienced it, but now? Now you feel nothing but guilt. Not for the town you'd helped murder, but for Micah.

You looked down at him, staring at his greasy forehead. As you lifted your stone, you teared up as you remembered all the times that he'd slipped up. A terrible feeling sank into your chest as you thought about your first robbery. How he wiped your tears away after you'd committed your first murder and rubbed your back like the father you never had. You'd given him your weakness, and he accepted it with unknowing tenacity. From then on, you gave him your weakness, and he allowed you to piggyback off of him like a little parasite.

For such a morally corrupt man, Micah had always done his best to assure your safety, no matter what. When the two of you were low on rations, he let you have the last. When the gang was ambushed, he made sure you were never there. When the two of you were caught in a rock and a hard place, he always made you run back to camp while he distracted the bastards following you. It's your fault that he turned into something he never wanted to be.

It's your fault that he became so weak.

Your brows furrowed, and your face twisted into anguish. You lifted the stone up above your head and, with all your might, sent it crashing down upon his skull. It made a sickening crunch, like a pumpkin being dropped, but Micah did not move. You repeated the action over and over again until his head finally caved in. Once you were done, you walked over to your horse, one that he had gifted you, and shot her, too. Baylock was smart enough to run off.

From then on, you decided that, out of the four of you, Baylock would be the strongest. He was the survivor because he ran like hell instead of sticking around to die. Finally, you walked back to the cliffside and erased the last remaining proof of Elisabeth Bell's entire existence.

A/N: i hope people like this :p i know child death is a very sensitive topic, but I think that this is how it would go in the eyes of a child. I tried to make it a little confusing so that we could really understand how uniquely this kind of situation would affect someone as vulnerable as a child versus an adult.