#i unfortunately am too tired to try reading back at all of this so sorry for any mistakes and such lol

[valerian-riverheart]

The Taco Bell thing … go on….

OH MY GOODNESS I KEEP FORGETTING TO SIT DOWN AND ANSWER THIS AAAA

Okay so context I used to work at Taco Bell for about a year and a third, and my friend and I would make jokes about what kind of customer the characters of our shared interests would be like!

This wouldn't usually be about a specific order, since sometimes it's hard to say what Taco Bell meal a character would have. Instead, I base them off the types of customers I've interacted with. I'll try the professors in ravenwood for example:

Cyrus Drake: 100% the type to have an extremely specific order and would know IMMEDIATELY if you do it wrong. He won't even take a look in the bag. Would go inside the building just so he can stare directly into the kitchen from the counter. One of the only people who gives feedback in the surveys on the receipts.

Moolinda Wu: Only orders a veggie power bowl and water with a side of cinnabon delights. Though she doesn't worry much if the order happens to be wrong- except if there's meat on the power bowl. She doesn't really come around at all unless she's there with someone else. Prefers the cinnabon delights still frozen.

Uhhh I don't know if I should Mallistaire, Dworgyn, or Malorn- but I might come back to add all three of them in a reblog if I want to oops

Lydia Greyrose: So sweet and understanding, though she will be very particular about how long the food takes to be done and avoids going in during rush hours. Lydia also likes frozen cinnabon delights, was the one to introduce Moolinda to them. Asks for a cup of vanilla creamer, the managers say it's fine. Usually goes drive thru.

Dalia Falmea: Asks for extra diablo sauce, is delighted if you put a comically large amount in a small bag for her. Orders a side of tomatoes no matter what she gets. She would walk inside the building but gets her food to-go. Really she's a typical costumer, but what are you supposed to do when a literally hot woman is towering over you as she ponders about how many supreme dorito tacos she would like??

Halston Balestrom: Mexican Pizza Fiend. He was jumping for joy when he found out they were coming back. The only person to order a coffee in Taco Bell for who knows why. Uses the drive thru in the most elaborately built car you've ever seen in your life. Makes sure you put a utensil in the bag because frankly he doesn't think Taco Bell's pizza is exactly "finger food".

Sorry for the Balance teacher enjoyers too but I kinda lost steam rn I'm kinda sleepy but honestly that's the kind of stuff I would ponder COSLEMMFMF I might come back to add the rest of the professors but yeah you get the gist!

[n0thingbutlov3]

need you now

in which an impulsive voicemail leads to some secrets being spilled.

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader. warnings/tags: angst (sorry i’m incapable of being nice lol) hurt/comfort tho!! lil bit of fluff too because i AM capable of being nice, alcohol consumption as a coping mechanism (i’m literally just a girl…) spencer and reader are broken up :( but they’re still sooo in love and it’s soo obvious so it’s fine!! (also it kind of gets fixed at the end-ish. you’ll see *evil smirk*) reader cries a lot (real) spencer is a cutie (as always) spencer and reader sleep together…no like literally, not in a funny business way, some swearing, no use of y/n!!! wc: 3k a/n: hihihi!! so this is my first fan fiction i’ve wrote and completed ever (gulp) it’s also my first time publishing one (gulp) my writing could definitely be better and so could my grammar tbh but i HOPE if you choose to read you’ll enjoy…feedback is always appreciated (plsplspls) also like requests?? if anyone’s into that—id love to write more but inspo is difficult sometimes. if there’s any spelling mistakes im sorry, eye am very tired!! it’s 5am *eye twitching* okay i’m going to sleep, gootbye IF U SAW ME EDITING THIS 5 TIMES NO U DIDNT (i’m bad at tumblr ok..)

“Hi. This is Doctor Spencer Reid. I’m not available right now, but leave a message and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can…”

His tinny voice cut off to make way for the signature beep of the beginning of a voicemail recording.

You could hang up now—you should hang up now, save yourself some dignity and go drown your sorrows in alcohol like a normal person instead of calling your ex-boyfriend.

You should, but your mouth was opening before your finger could reach the hang-up button, and…and it was a losing battle from the moment you clicked on Spencer’s icon.

“Uh—hi, it’s…it’s me.” You huffed out a sad laugh.

“So, um, I…I tried calling, but you didn’t answer so…” The static buzz of silence hummed through your ear, just inches from where you held your phone with a shaky grip. “maybe you’re on a case or out with friends, or someone else—“ You let the implication hang in the air—the thought of Spencer potentially being in a relationship bringing a lump to your throat.

You swallowed it down.

“I just…I just had an unbelievably shitty day, Spence.” You sniffed, wiping the moisture that had escaped from your eye with your sweater sleeve. “I know you’ve never read A Series of Unfortunate Events but I think I’d give those kids a run for their money.” You tried to laugh but it came out as more of a sob.

You inhaled shakily, trying to collect yourself and remember why on earth you thought it would be a good idea to call Spencer when you’d been broken up for months. Hell, you hadn’t heard from him at all since you had parted ways—except from the odd text about returning each others’ things. It was obvious he had moved on, and here you were, filling up his voicemail with blubbering messages and making references to adolescent books.

“God, sorry about this.” You breathed out a watery chuckle. “I just…didn’t want to be alone, I guess. But that’s-um-not your problem anymore, so I’m—I’m sorry. Have a nice night.” Your voice cracked and you hung up before you could start weeping down the line. You didn’t need to look even more pathetic.

You pulled your phone away from your ear, looking down at his contact photo through blurred vision. He was smiling—not the tight, closed lip smile he gave other people, but a full, bright smile that had his dimples showing. One of your hands was wrapped loosely around his neck and the other was holding your phone just far enough away to capture both of your smiles. Your head was rested on top of his shoulder, tilted just slightly to the left so your temple was brushing against his.

It felt like looking at a vintage photograph—you knew those people and their happiness existed at some point in time, but it wasn’t tangible; you couldn’t verify it was real.

When you were with Spencer, you never doubted how real it was. All you had to was look at him across the room and he’d flash you a smile identical to the one in that photo and you’d just…know.

It felt like forever ago now that you’d been on the receiving end of that grin and it killed you. So much so that before you could consider the repercussions, you were trudging through to your kitchen and grabbing the bottle of whiskey that sat unopened in your cabinet. It had been a present—from Rossi, actually. When Spencer had first introduced you to the team, the older man had given it to you as something of a welcome gift. Of course, he couldn’t have known you weren’t much of a drinker, and since you wanted to make a good impression (and because you were sure it had cost more than all the alcohol you had consumed in your life combined) you accepted it—deciding to save it for a rainy day.

You think this qualified.

You grabbed the bottle, a glass, and padded back through to your living room, slumping onto your couch. You filled your glass up a little less than halfway before gulping it down, enjoying the burn in your throat—it was better than the constant thickness.

You poured yourself another glass before turning on the TV. You weren’t sure what was playing—it didn’t really matter anyway, your vision was already being obscured by tears again.

You thought the pounding was in your head at first—serves you right for drinking half a bottle of whiskey. Only, it wasn’t, because moments later the pounding subsided and instead, your apartment door was opening, casting your pitch-black living room in a yellow glow which temporarily blinded you.

You squeezed your eyes shut, your mind hazy—again, serves you right for drinking half a bottle of whiskey. Someone was calling your name, but there was too much sensory input for you to make out who.

You certainly hoped it wasn’t a paramedic—maybe your neighbour had heard you sobbing for the last four hours and decided you needed a wellness check. Then there were hands on your face, and that had you flicking your eyes open, because you recognised those hands—impossibly soft, with a callus on his trigger finger being the only thing to mar them. Spencer.

“Spencer?” You slurred.

He sighed in exasperation (or relief) and tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

“Are you alright? You weren’t answering your phone, I thought…” He trailed off, worry evident in his voice.

You sat up then, trying to compose yourself even though the room was spinning. Fucking whiskey. You rubbed your eyes haphazardly, blinking until you could finally see.

You should’ve stayed bleary-eyed. Because nothing could prepare you for the way your breath hitched when you finally saw him. After months of not seeing each other, Spencer was here, sitting on your couch, and he was looking at you like you were something fragile, and—God, you needed another drink. You turned away from him, reaching for the neck of the bottle as you spoke.

“I’m fine.”

Before you could lift it up, Spencer gently pried your hand away from the bottle with his own, and then slid it across the coffee table with his other.

“You’re drunk. No more of that, please.” His tone wasn’t unkind, but he left no room to argue. You probably would’ve objected anyway, if it weren’t for the way he kept his hand clasped around yours, rubbing soothing circles into your pulse point almost absentmindedly.

You glanced up to him—to stop yourself from staring at your hand in his and how natural it felt, more than anything—but that proved to be a mistake too, because he looked just as beautiful as thirty seconds prior and it felt just as natural for him to be sitting next to you on your sofa, but it wasn’t natural anymore.

“How did you get in?”

“My key.”

“Oh.”

Right. The key that he still had because you refused to meet up with him to let him return it. He tried for weeks to contact you, but you ignored him, because getting the key back meant things were finally over. You supposed he could return it now—maybe that’s why he came in the first place.

“Why did you come?” You asked, your voice impossibly small.

“You called.” He replied—as though he was talking about something as simple as the weather. You call and I come.

You searched in his eyes for any sign of a lie, but of course, there was none. He was being completely genuine—as always. You were the awful ex-girlfriend who left concerning voicemails on his phone and had him travelling to your apartment in the middle of the night only for him to look completely okay with the situation—like there was nothing he’d rather be doing than making sure you were safe.

You couldn’t help the way tears sprung to your eyes or your lip began to tremble as you lolled your head back onto the couch, pulling your gaze away from his.

“Angel, what’s wrong?”

You liked to consider yourself to be a strong person. You had been through things in your life that were objectively worse than your breakup with Spencer, but something about the gentleness of his tone and the way he had let one of his many (past) petnames for you slip had your throat tightening and you ducked your head into your one hand—the other still seized by Spencer’s—to try and muffle a sob.

“Hey,” He trailed his hand that was wrapped around yours up your arm, all the way to your shoulder blade before lightly guiding you towards him. You don’t have enough energy in you to fight his magnetic pull, so you shuffle over until you can bury your head into his shirt. You inhale his scent; vanilla, neroli, and so him it makes you ache.

Stopping your tears is futile—you’d know, they’d barely ceased all night—so you just let them fall, seeping into Spencer’s tie as he rubs one hand softly up and down your back, the other cradling the crown of your head.

His breathing is quiet and slow—the exact opposite of yours—and you try to imitate it—forcing air into your lungs. When your sobbing has turned to shaky breathing and the occasional sniffle, he speaks up.

“Do you want to talk?”

Talk about what? About what had happened today—what had led you to calling him? Talk about how for the last few months, he had been the only person you had wanted to call?

“No.” You hated how pitiful you sounded.

“Okay.”

Spencer didn’t say anything else for a minute—your synchronised breathing being the only thing to stop the room from falling into dead silence.

“You need to rehydrate.” He murmured, smoothing down your hair.

You hummed into him, in no hurry to unwrap yourself from his body. You probably wouldn’t get to be this close to him again, after all.

He moved both of his hands to your biceps, pulling you back slightly so you could look at him. He knitted his brows together in a silent plea which had you rolling your eyes petulantly, your lashes still damp from tears.

“Fine.” You peeled yourself off of him, pushing yourself into a standing position. Horrible mistake. You were still incredibly drunk, turns out, and everything was spinning a little bit and come to think of it, you were also nauseous and—

“Careful, lovely.” Spencer placed his hand firmly on the small of your back, keeping you upright.

and—actually, you were fine now.

He stood too, moving his hand just slightly over to your waist so he could guide you to the kitchen. When he knew you could stand upright—even if you were relying mostly on the counter behind you—he grabbed a glass from your cabinet, moving around effortlessly to pour you some water. The sight was so domestic you almost wanted to cry again. Maybe in some alternate timeline, where you and him could’ve worked, this would be an every day thing—minus the drunk sobbing part, of course.

He handed you the glass of water, watching as you took a few sips. He raised an eyebrow, nodding his head slowly.

“Whole thing, please.”

You let out an exasperated (affectionate) sigh and gulped the rest of it down, setting it on the counter behind you.

“Happy?”

“Very.”

You smirked, trailing your gaze down his body. He was still in his work clothes which, at the very least, meant he wasn’t on a date before he came here. He always changed before dates—well, for you, anyway. You wondered if he had been on any dates since the breakup—you certainly hadn’t. It had been long enough now that it wouldn’t be weird for you to start seeing other people—but you didn’t want to. You weren’t sure you’d ever want to, to be completely honest.

The more you thought about it, the more the whole thing seemed stupid. You didn’t want anyone else, you wanted Spencer. You had tried to get over him but if tonight was any indication—it clearly wasn’t working. You can’t even remember why you broke up in the first place—it all seemed so insignificant now. No amount of pain you had ever experienced in your relationship had come close to that of living without him.

You met his eyes once more and it was like he could see the question brewing. He tried to stop you, calling your name in a quiet warning, but you ignored him.

“Why did we break up?”

He frowned, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth with his tongue in that maddening way he did.

“I—you know why—“

“No, but I don’t! I know things were difficult sometimes but that doesn’t mean it didn’t work. It worked—we worked.” Your eyes were stinging again.

Spencer pressed his index and middle finger into his eye, furrowing his brows.

“I know, I know we worked, angel—but you were sad all the time, remember? I was gone so often and it wasn’t good for you.” His true emotions were indecipherable but his tone was soft, and you wished you could be as calm about this as him. Did he just not care as much as you did?

“But It’s—It’s worse now—“ You choked out, tears falling freely now. “I was sad when you were gone, but you always came back—you don’t come back anymore.”

Spencer removed his hand from his face, flexing it at his side like he was uncertain what to do with himself before taking a stride towards you. He brought a hand to your face, wiping the tears from under your eyes delicately—like you were made of porcelain.

“Listen, sweetheart—alcohol affects your ability to regulate your emotions and I know right now it might feel worse but that doesn’t mean it always—“

“Spencer, stop! It’s not the fucking alcohol, I miss you! I miss you all of the time! Even—even when I’m having a good day—I still want you—and especially when I—when I have a bad day—“ You choked out through heaving breaths.

“Breathe.” He urges, cupping your cheek. And you’re so, so angry, and sad, and tired that you have no choice but to shut up and listen to him. When you’ve adequately calmed down, he moves his hand to your jaw, tilting your head up to look at him.

“I don’t think we should talk about this tonight but I—“ You open your mouth to protest.

“I promise we can talk about it tomorrow when you’re sober—if you still want to.”

Your lip trembles of its own volition and you frown.

“Of course I want to.”

“Okay,”

“Okay.”

He gives your eyes a final wipe before he’s—rather unexpectedly—pulling you into a hug. You all but melt into him, your head finding its home in his sternum and your arms wrapping around his middle. He tilts his head down, kissing the top of your head—and you’re certain you can’t let this go again. You will chain him down before Spencer leaves this apartment again.

Everything is wordless from there—mostly because you’re so, so exhausted that even talking seems like too difficult a task. Spencer helps you find something more comfortable to change into and you pull out an old t-shirt of his and a pair of plaid pyjama pants you had kept here for him. I guess your keeping them ‘just in case you needed them in the future’ had come in handy, after all.

As you washed your face, Spencer snuck through to the kitchen, refilling your water and grabbing two aspirin in a not-so-subtle attempt to help the inevitable hangover you were going to have in the morning.

You caught him placing them on your bedside table and mock gasped.

“Trying to drug me in my sleep so you can make a run for it in the night?”

He grinned lazily—exhaustion creeping up on him as well.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

You smiled, flopping yourself onto your bed rather ungraciously. Spencer looked at you like you were something fascinating before biting his lip, clearly deep in thought.

“What?” You let out a self-effacing little chuckle.

“I was just…wondering…if you’d like me to sleep on the couch?”

You probably should’ve been more careful in your facial expressions considering you were still broken up but your thoughts about that offer were obvious.

“No, stay.” Stay in your bed, in your apartment—stay anywhere that was close to you.

Maybe you were coming on a little too strong.

“Unless you want to, I mean—“

“No, no—I’ll stay.” Forever, preferably.

He walked around to the other side of your bed—as he had done so many times before—and sat down, pulling the covers over his legs. You mirrored his movements before flicking your bedside lamp out, turning to face him.

You were a little thankful you were so out of it, because this had the potential to be very awkward otherwise. Spencer shuffled down so that he was at eye level with you, turning to face you as well.

You just stared for a moment, committing him to memory. The moonlight had a way of highlighting all the high points of his face, and the twinkle in his eyes, and—God, you were so glad the moon existed and that Spencer was in your bed that you couldn’t help but giggle.

“What?” Spencer laughed along with you, even though he had no idea what was so funny.

“Nothing. You’re pretty.”

“You’re drunk. Go to sleep.”

“Don’t wanna.”

“Why?”

“Scared you’ll be gone when I wake up—like I made it all up.”

Spencer’s smile faded then, and he looked at you with something that seemed so much like the one thing you had been willing yourself to stop doing the whole time that you’d been broken up, that it almost took your breath away.

“I won’t. I promised, didn’t I?”

You nodded.

“So there’s nothing to worry about. Now get some sleep, lovely.”

You smiled, feeling Spencer’s hand inching towards yours. He intertwined them and gave yours a squeeze.

“Just in case you make a run for it in the night.”

You chuckled, your eyelids fluttering shut. Yeah, you could make it work.

part two!

[dinogoofymutated]

Hi!! I LOVE your Remy hcs! They were so sweet and in character 😊 I'm on my period and ya girl is suffering and I keep thinking that Remy would be the sweetest AND totally amazing in the fried food department 👀 Any hcs? Totally chill if nah

xx

Gambit/AFAB!reader!- Period HCS YES!!! just yes. absolutlely. I want to taste this man's cooking so bad but I am ridiculously sensitive to spice and would probably die.

I have a similar req for Nightcrawler as well so keep an eye out for that one too ;) Sorry that this is a little short!

TWS: Menstrual cycles. Cramps. Menstrual cravings. Damn I'm hungry rn ngl. Can be read as GN as no pronouns are mentioned.

If cooking Isn't one of Remy's love languages I'm calling bull!!

I mean, who else would go out of their way to cook beignets for breakfast? I mean, sure, he could have made the dough beforehand but seriously that shit takes time.

I 100% believe he would go out of his way to make you anything you were craving on your period. Fried chicken? Done. Beignets? Obviously. Done! Hell, you want stuffed french toast but every time you try to make it you fail miserably? Don't worryyy! He's got you.

Although, that doesn't mean he does it for free!! He asks for payment via smooches and love. He tends to stray away from period sex until he knows you're comfortable with it, and if you are comfortable with it he's always there to offer his assistance if you need an all natural pain killer ;)

Mother nature fucking sucked. It wasn't enough that you had to deal with blood leaking out of you every month, but debilitating cramps on top of that? Straight bullshit!

You've been cocooned under your blankets all morning, curled up into a fetal position as you delt with the intense cramps. You've already taken the last of the painkillers you kept in your bedside table, and unfortunate for you, they were not working. You know you've certainly missed breakfast by now, but you just hurt too much to get up. You're face down on your pillow when there's a quick knock at your door before it opens.

"Good morning, Chère~" Remy sings. You cant really respond to him other than giving him a tired hum. You hear the door shut behind him before the sound of him placing a plate on your bedside table.

" 'Figured you weren't feeling well when you weren't at the table, so I've brought you the Gambit special." He jokes. You feel the bed shift with his weight as his sits next to you, running his hand up and down your back soothingly.

"Thanks Rem." You mumble. If only you could bring yourself to sit up. You can smell the sweet scent of the beignets he had brought you, and it makes your stomach growl loudly. You wince as another wave of pain hits you coincidentally, and you're absolutely sure your body was planning to kill you.

" S' pretty bad, huh?" Remy asks, a comforting hand brushing the hair out of your face. You nod.

"Alright, c'mere." You don't have a chance to refuse as Remy is sitting you up, making space so he can sit against your headboard. You're blearily blinking your eyes open as he drags you into his lap, propping you up against his chest. You send him a groggy, questioning look, but he only responds with catching you in a chaste kiss.

"What? You didn't think I was gonna let my favorite person suffer alone, did you?" He asks, sending you a smile that you can't help but return. Remy feeds you your breakfast like that, keeping you snug and safe between his arms as he gives you plenty of kisses and rubs your lower stomach through each wave of pain. Those painkiller never did kick in, but at least you had someone sweet to distract you for a while.

[mustangbby]

LAZY MORNINGS - aventurine x reader

- your husband gets a call early in the morning, kicking a start to your day. but instead of him going into work, he stays in your arms.

- hellooo everyone! i'm back and i changed my theme up a little bit. thank you to all of the condolences i received, it made me smile and also made me happy :) but i feel ready enough to write once again, and i've been having aventurine brainrot...... hm... also my bad if this is really ooc i've read most of the penacony story and have payed extra to aventurines parts (i can also write ratio for all you ratio simps who want more food..) but my brain is wired weird so.... i fuck some things up anyways enjoy!!!!!!!!!

- no warnings, wc 528

You wake up, and immediately check the clock on the side of your nightstand. It reads 5:30 am.

You rub your eyes, scanning the room before your eyes land on your husband, Aventurine, who's got one hand in his hair and the other holding his phone up to his ear.

He was a beautiful sight; his eyes half open, hair messy, and pajamas in a bundle with one button keeping it on his torso. You lay a hand on the naked part of his chest, letting him know you were awake. He looks down at you, shooting you a soft smile before speaking into his phone.

“...Alright, I understand,” He said, his tone laced with irritation and sleepiness. “Lets schedule the interview for today.”

You sighed, replacing your hand with your head, trying to go back to sleep. You pull the silk sheets over your ear, everything below your eyes covered by the warm covers. Aventurine wraps an arm around your body, hanging up on the man who called to inform him of what you assumed was something important, and put his phone down next to him.

“Sorry if I woke you, sweetheart,” He sighs, wrapping his other arm around your torso. You nuzzle into him, eyes closed. You mumble something incoherent, and he chuckles. “Someones tired this morning.”

You nod, and he kisses the top of your head. “Do you have to leave early this morning?”

“Nope, not today. They wanted me to, but I'll just say I didn’t feel well enough to get out of bed. I don’t miss work too often, so they won't bat too much of an eye, hopefully."

You giggle a bit, snuggling even deeper into his chest, his heartbeat audible. It comforted you, it always does, and you could’ve fallen asleep right away if it weren’t for his voice keeping you conscious.

“I wish I could bring you to work with me, but unfortunately I can’t. I have to work with Ratio again today,” he groans, putting a hand up to his forehead. “I’d rather spare you of the nuisance he is.”

You laugh once more. “I bet he’s not that bad. You just make him sound like a geek, that’s all.”

“He’s much more than that. Much more insufferable.”

“I doubt it.”

You both laugh before simply holding each other. It seemed like it was only the two of you on this planet; the sounds of birds chirping brought a harmonious feeling, and it was as if none of your worries were able to break through your bedroom door and haunt you.

You tried to stay awake with your husband, considering he was probably up for the day due to the ever so rude interruption at such an early time in the morning. He was used to waking at this time, so he would’ve likely been up soon anyway. You, on the other hand, usually wake up when he’s long gone for the day, so it’s just natural to want to sleep a little longer.

“Fall back asleep, babe,” he pressed a tiny peck to the top of your head, burying his nose in your soft locks. “I’ll be here when you wake back up.”

[agaypanic]

Shut Your Mouth (Steven Hyde X Reader Smut)

Kinktober Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Request Something! | AO3

Kinktober Day 21: Hate Fucking

Summary: You and Steven can’t stand each other. It’s been that way since the beginning. Somehow, that makes the sex even hotter.

A/N: sorry for not posting.. Kinktober’s harder than i thought lmao

C/W: unprotected p in v sex (wrap it before you tap it!), rough sex, degrading, frenemies with benefits ig, couch sex (rip the basement couch), slight choking kink, clothed sex, slight dumbification

***

“Y/n, can’t you annoy people at your own house?”

“Steven, can’t you freeload somewhere other than Eric’s basement?”

The bickering had been going on for about an hour now. It wasn’t even sparked by something. You and Hyde just had a habit of throwing bitter remarks at each other for no reason whenever you were in the same room for too long. Your own friends couldn’t tell if you genuinely hated each other or if you just had some years-long strange dynamic going on.

But they were getting tired of it. “God!” Kelso yelled, jumping from his seat on the couch and looking at the two of you with annoyance. “Do you guys ever not fight?” Then he turned to Fez. “Come on, Fez. Let’s get outta here.”

The tall man opened the door that led out of the basement, waiting for his friend. Fez got up and was about to go through when he turned back to you and Hyde, a small frown on his face.

“I hate it when you two fight.” You resisted the urge to laugh at his upset tone.

Kelso watched Fez go up the stairs and scoffed. At first, you thought it was towards Fez, but then he looked at you and Hyde. “See what you did?” He asked. “Now I gotta buy the little guy a burger.”

Finally, the door slammed shut, and you were alone.

“See what you did, Y/n?” Unfortunately, you weren’t entirely alone. “Now Fez is gonna be whiny all day.”

You laughed unamused. “Well, you’re not Mr. Perfect, Steven.”

“Don’t call me that.” He groaned. He was only called by his first name by adults, usually when he was in some kind of trouble. Being called that versus Hyde always annoyed him.

Which was why you called him Steven. “Steven, Steven, Steven.”

“Shut up.” 

He tried to ignore you. He grabbed a comic book and started flipping through it, obviously just trying to distract himself rather than actually read it. You repeated his name over and over, scooting over so you were leaning against the arm of the couch closest to him.

“Steven, Steven, Steven.”

He stayed quiet, but you could see his jaw clench in frustration.

“Steven, Steven, Ste-”

“Are you gonna stop, or am I gonna have to make you?”

You laughed, leaning slightly closer. “I’d like to see you try… Steven.”

He threw down the comic book, and in a flash, you were lying on the couch with Hyde on top of you. He kissed you roughly with a hand on your neck, effectively muffling any noise you tried to make. After a few seconds, he pulled away.

“Got anything else to say?”

You smiled, trying to catch your breath. “Very interesting way to shut me up.” You said it as if this wasn’t the first time this had happened. After a few escalated arguments, you and Hyde realized that fighting with each other got you really riled up. So you had an agreement. If no one was around, you could fuck the tension out of each other and never tell anyone about it until the day you die. “But I don’t think it’s gonna work, Steve- ah!”

He squeezed your throat, restricting your airflow slightly and once again effectively cutting you off. From behind those dumb sunglasses of his, you could see his eyebrow raise, like he was egging you on to speak again. “What was that?” You kept your mouth shut this time. He smiled at your lack of response. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

But you never knew how to be quiet for long. “Oh, that’s what you thought, huh? I’m surprised you think-”

Not wanting to hear what kind of comeback you came up with, Hyde cut you off once again with a rough kiss, hand trailing down your body. It seemed he wanted to get right to the point, and you weren’t gonna complain. You helped him out by hiking the skirt of your dress up to your hips, showing off your panties. Hyde grabbed one of your ankles and lifted it so your leg was hooked on the back of the couch, allowing him to slot himself between your legs. 

The two of you became a clash of lips, hands, and moans. You had to keep telling yourself to stay quiet, because you had no idea if anyone was upstairs. But it was hard to concentrate when you were too busy being focused on undoing Hyde’s belt and pants while he pulled your panties to the side to play with your pussy. 

“Shut your mouth.” He muttered against your lips when a particularly loud whine escaped you. 

But then the hypocrite let out an equally loud groan as you pulled his dick out and started jerking him off at a painstakingly slow pace. “You were saying?”

“I said,” Hyde replaced your hand with his own by batting yours out of the way, stroking himself a few times before lining up with your entrance. Without warning, he slammed into you, squeezing your throat again to prevent any loud sounds from leaving your mouth. Slowly, he pulled out before speaking again, each word punctuated with a hard and deep thrust, “Shut. Your. Mouth.”

Hyde continued his brutal pace, the hand not on your throat digging into your hip so he could move you to match his thrusts. You quickly became limp like a ragdoll, allowing Hyde to fuck you roughly into the couch. 

Every so often, you tried to speak, but it came out like some kind of dumb babble. “Oh my- So good, so good, Ste… Stev-”

“Say it, and you’re not coming.”

You squealed in disapproval, quickly correcting yourself. “Hyde! Feels so good. So so good.”

He smirked, somehow fucking you harder and faster. “If this is how you’re gonna be, maybe I should fuck you more often.”

All you could do was nod along, too overwhelmed by the pleasure he was giving you. Figuring you were too cockdrunk to do it yourself, Hyde started rubbing at your clit, making you whine.

“Hate you so much.” He muttered, eyes rolling back as you squeezed his cock.

You laughed. “Hate you more.” The small smile on your lips dropped as you opened your mouth, a choked moan escaping you as you neared the edge. Sensing you were about to come, Hyde picked up the pace of his ministrations on your clit.

“Come on.” He urged. “Be the dumb slut you are, and come on my dick.”

And being the good but dumb slut you were, you did as told. Your body shook, and your eyes rolled back as your orgasm hit you. Hyde followed close behind, spilling into you with a sharp inhale.

You two lay on the couch for a while, trying to catch your breath. Hyde was the first to recover, slowly pulling out and readjusting your underwear and dress before he tugged himself back into his pants. He sat on the balls of his feet, waiting for you to sit up.

“So…” It was always a bit awkward after the sex because you didn’t feel like bickering as much, so you didn’t know what else to do. “Wanna get a burger?”

You nodded, slowly standing on your slightly shaky legs. “Sure, but you’re paying.”

Hyde groaned in slight annoyance but didn’t fight it. Instead, he opened the door and waited for you to go up the stairs to his car, him following close behind.

***

That 70s Show Taglist: @pink-hufflepuff

[cvnt4him]

Izuku dating a literal insomniac 🫡

Let's see what I can come up with<3

Restless nights are the worst. Being unable to do the one thing you want and need most in the world is making you go crazy. You sigh heavily as you try and force yourself to sleep. Tossing and turning in bed everything catching your attention besides tiredness. It's annoying you deeply.

You completely give up after you see the clock, 12 am. You have things to do tomorrow and you just know you're going to be tired but oh well. Your body doesn't want to cooperate, your mind doesn't want to shut the hell up, it's like nothing wants to do what you need.

You have nothing to do, it's literally midnight the whole world should be asleep. So why can't you get to sleep? The question that you keep asking yourself night after night as you restlessly scroll through social media. Nothing is interesting you long enough, everything is boring and annoying. Gosh this is really starting to piss you off.

The main reason you were trying to even go to sleep at better times was for your boyfriend. You'd told him about how your nights were going and he instantly called it "insomnia". Izuku was nothing more than a heavens sent, he loves having you over and loves sleeping with you! Unfortunately it's not exactly allowed to have the opposite gender in your rooms after hours.

Normally you two would just sneak to one another, however recently aizawa has been doing dorm checks and caught you two in the bed with each other. He barred you two from seeing each other after hours. It was literally like your soul had been ripped out of you. You seem to sleep better under izukus watch, next to him in bed, his body heat warming you comfortably.

Yet now that you don't have it you feel like you're going crazy. You another heavy sigh leaving you, you figure you have no other choice. You'd have to wake your boyfriend. It hurts your heart even just thinking about waking him, you knew he was asleep by now and understood he needed it. You contemplated even texting him but it's like your fingers were moving on their own.

" hey u awake??"

" unfortunately so😞"

" can't sleep? :(("

You sigh again, surprised that he was even awake you thought for sure he'd be asleep.

nope it's getting on my fucking nerves bro

" I'm sorry hon, I wish there was a way I could make you feel better :( "

" I could always try sneaking out!!😼😼"

" so, uhm, no!😓 I don't want you getting in trouble "

" wtf am I supposed to do. Js sit here n look at the fucking ceiling?????"

You groaned angry he wouldn't let you go to him. It's all you wanted and he'd be lying if he said he didn't want it to. You just wanted to be in his arms was that so bad????

" wanna call?"

" maybe my voice will help you calm down, yk like out you to sleep or smth?"

Reading that text your anger completely disappeared, literally evaporating at the thought of hearing his voice. You missed him so much.

"yes please!!!!!💕💕"

" you got it ml💗💗"

You rolled on your side and held your phone close to your chest until you heard it ring picking up within an instant. You squealed and giggled into the mic causing him to chuckle, his light voice slightly groggy. Despite him only chuckling you can hear the tiredness within it.

“ hello, my love.”

He spoke lowly slightly whispering with a chuckle laced in his voice, you could hear the smile on his lips. He was just so cute you couldn't help but kick your feet. He gives you such cuteness aggression.

“ hi baby!!! I miss you.”

You say back to him making him hum, he missed you too he didn't even need to say it, you already knew. He exhaled into the mic before yawning, it was just so cute you couldn't help the line of giggles that escaped.

“ you need to get some rest my love, I don't want you to be tired in the morning.”

“ I know but I just can't sleep... I just want to like, hear your voice I guess.”

“ hmm~, what am I gonna do with you, eh?”

His tired voice was undeniably attractive, it made you bite your lip subconsciously. When he hummed into the mic it gave you butterflies, it was just so... Moving.

Silence fell upon the two of you, a comfortable one at that. Hearing his breath wavering, the sound of him inhaling and exhaling did indeed bring you at peace. It was calming in an odd sense, it was almost as if he was really there. You looked at the time, 2 am.. god you couldn't believe 2 hours had already passed.

With a sigh you'd decided to try once more. You'd try to fall asleep, this time having more hope that you could with your boyfriend on the line. You get comfortable, the sound of covers moving and shifting being heard on his end a hum left him again. You could tell he was tired or almost sleep, it made you feel bad. After getting comfortable silence was there again, just the sound of his breathing coming through. You decided to say one last thing before trying again.

“ I love you, zuku. thank you.”

You closed your eyes with a sigh, lying there for a couple of minutes, random things started flooding your mind instantly causing you to squeeze your eyes shut.

“ love y’too...”

That snapped you out of your little daze, all the things running through your head instantly vanishing at the sound of his voice all hushed and quiet, his words slurred and smushed together. It was just too adorable. You giggle slightly and close your eyes once more with a smile present on your face.

AN: hope this is good idk I've been feeling down lately like so much is happening I'm just drained. This was kinda rushed but hope it's good<3333

[ordowrites]

When You Are Sick

because i am sick, i am gonna be self indulgent with this.

cw: fluff, mostly. afab reader but no pronouns are used, some pet names (precious, my fire). mdni, minors dni. purely self indulgent. i want diluc to fret over me ok

characters: diluc & arlecchino

diluc

he's worried, needless to say - you spikes a fever pretty quickly and he's trying to remain calm and stoic. hay fever is common or perhaps, it's the flu or something else. either way, he starts to worry when you reject food offered to you and he considers calling all the best doctors he can. whatever you wish at this point, it will he his command. medications, tea, softer blankets. anything to make sure you're comfortable and on the track to recovery.

"diluc," you mumble as you crack open an eye, his pacing giving you a worse headache. you cough a bit. he freezes, looks at you, probably mentally preparing for the worst. "if you want to help, stop... moving around in here." you roll over and sigh, coughing again and groaning.

"is there something i can get you? perhaps i can fetch a medic? run you a bath? my fire, please tell me what you need."

you let out a breath. a groan.

"can you cuddle with me?" you finally ask. he runs warm and right now, you feel cold. "play with my hair. anything to get you to stop pacing."

he thinks for a moment - you two have shared a bed many times but he still hesitates. but he finally climbs in, and you sigh, relaxing in his warmth as his fingers softly start to stroke your hair and rub your back. he revels in your soft hair, always finding new ways to think of you as perfect.

"how's this, my flame?"

"mm, perfect. as always."

ever the one to please you, he continues until he hears you breathing deeply - finally asleep, although fitful.

arlecchino

to say she is unhappy is incorrect - displeased? you're not sure. you can't read her, but her hand is cold against your clammy skin and she clicks her tongue.

"how do you feel, precious?"

"...horrible."

she sits down at the side of the bed, weight causing some movement. "unfortunate. i suppose we'll have to put our dinner plans on hold until further notice."

"'m sorry." you mumble, too tired to actually care. you sigh and lean in when she rubs her thumb on your cheek. "really. this is stupid."

"we all get sick, no need to fret." alrecchino says and your eyes slide shut briefly. you're awoken later to a smell and you groan, sitting up. she's back in your guys room with some soup. "can you sit up, precious? you need to eat."

oh, you'd actually fallen asleep. it's darker than before - save for some lit candles.

when you do sit up - hit by dizziness and nausea - you consider laying back down. you don't protest as she chooses to feed you, savoring each bite. afterwards, she makes you take a sip of some water and tells you to rest again. she'll be back in a little bit.

so you do, grateful for arlecchino's pampering and coddling. you think, briefly, that she's kissed you on the lips but brush it off as a feverish haze.

"we'll talk about your silly choice to be outside in the rain without being properly dressed when you feel better." she says before she leaves.

maybe you can play up being sick for a few extra days when you start to recover.

[twopoppies]

Gina, I want to tell you I have been reading your blog for a couple years now. I’ve never sent an ask to anyone. I first came into the fandom when I watched Harrychella and I thought hmm this man isn’t just flagging he is screaming at the top of his lungs. Then I watched the Cosmic Leeds videos and I fell down a rabbit hole. I am not someone who believes “conspiracy theories”. I am however old enough to know closeting has been proven to exist in the entertainment industry. I’m also from a rural area of the U.S. where homophobia is the norm, so unfortunately I had no trouble believing closeting still exists. I went into full information gathering mode about Larry Stylinson, but it was more than that too. I fell in love with 1D and all the boys’ solo work, especially Louis. I loved his voice, his songwriting, and his ‘real’ personality (when he allowed it to shine through all the media training). I read through every tumblr I could, you and Daisie provided a wealth of information that can not be ignored. I feel certain that Larry was real and I hope they are still together. I’m not one of those people who never doubted. It would be hard not to second guess things in this fandom with all the gaslighting that goes on. I write all of this to say that I’ve never felt so sad and like there is no hope for change as I do right now. It feels like Louis’ fandom is falling apart. There is so much division, hate, and intolerance of any idea that doesn’t conform to someone’s own. Louis pr strategy honestly baffles me. A divided fandom is so tiring. It seems less like pr and more like intentional sabatoge, which I guess it could be. I just don’t see any way out for him or Harry. I think Harry’s extended break is partly because of this too. I think he was overworked and emotionally drained for many reasons, but closeting most of all is exhausting. If I’m feeling this way as a fan I can’t imagine how they must be feeling. It breaks my heart. Sometimes I hope I am crazy and Larry was never real because the story is just too sad. Don’t even get me started on bbg because it is the shittiest situation ever. I think I need to take a step back from the fandom for a bit. But this brings me to my point. I’m pretty resilient, I can not be the only person feeling this way. It makes me so worried for Louis’ career and for both Louis and Harry’s mental health. I guess I don’t really have an ask. I just wanted to say thank you for all the information you have provided over the years. And, I needed to get this off my chest. If I posted this on twitter I would be roasted and I’m not strong enough for that right now. I meant it when I said I fell in love with their music, so I will continue to support all the boys. I’m hoping there is a master plan that will eventually set them free. But, I just keep coming back to the line

‘Said I had a plan for us Time had came and changed it all We had to disappear 'Cause nothing gets through here’

I will add one more thing. I believe there are more Larries than people think, but we are tired of the gaslighting and the hate, so many of us step back or hide. This is why the industry wins most of the time. 😥

Hi, sweetheart. Thank you for sharing your thoughts. I'm sorry it feels so overwhelming right now. I do think taking a step back is probably really healthy for most of us. I've actually never seen the fandom in such shambles.

I don't know what Louis' plan is in terms of his fandom or his future plans. But I have dozens and dozens of sad, confused, and angry messages in my inbox, and that fucking sucks. I really don't see a way forward at the moment. I will say, though, that some of the upset stems from some people's tendency to lean into worst-case scenarios and amplify their own worries by jumping to conclusions. Then there are the shit-stirrers who try to make things worse by sending in fake receipts or theories. It's hard to stay grounded when there's insanity whirling around you.

As for Harry and Louis, I do tend to believe they're still together. I don't think their relationship has been as easy as many of us would like to believe – I don't think it could be, given their ages when they met and the conditions they've had to live with. I do think they're soulmates... soulmates don't always end up together, but I tend to think these two will make it. I certainly hope they do.

Our fandom never does well when the boys aren't active. I think if you want to get your sanity back, now is as good a time as any.

[eatmeandbirthmeagain]

WAIT LET ME REQUEST‼️‼️ how about the reader which ls us , we are like months pregnant about 6-9 and everything ls going wonderful but unfortunately Baldwin lsnt fully healed since they are close to finding a cure so what lf guy got lnto a argument with Baldwin but to get Baldwin back , guy pushes us down the stairs when we are that many months pregnant and something goes wrong??❤️

♧ The Fool's Undoing - King Baldwin x Reader ♧

♧ Angst ♧

A/N: Hello everyone! Thank you for this request Anon, sorry it's taken so long to get too 😔. I hope it's what you had in mind! This one is very angsty guys so I'm sorry in advance about that 😭. As always, this is based on the movie Kingdom Of Heaven, not the real historical figures. Enjoy!

P.S. I had a freaking STROKE because I forgot the word "physician" while writing this and spent a good 20 minnutes trying to figure out what it was😭😭😭. Big thank you to @minminambus for helping me through the stroke and finding the word 😭🫶.

TW: Mentions of violence, Mentions of m*scarriage, Leprosy

It had been a beautiful first few months. The maids worked tirelessly, adding the final finishing touches to the nursery adjoining the royal chambers. 

It was a rather windy afternoon when it happened.

Y/n lay comfortable in the bed she shared with her husband, reading a book as she rubbed the swell of her stomach. Her pregnancy had been practically perfect with no complications and the young couple were expecting their first born (and heir to the throne) very soon.

Baldwin lay dozing beside her, worn out from a particularly stressful meeting earlier that day. He had been writing letters before y/n beckoned him to her side and insisted he lay with her. The poor man was too tired to refuse and after her delicate fingers worked through his sandy blonde curls for a few minutes, he was fast asleep.

The queen smiled down at him. Things really could not be more perfect at that very moment.

A sharp knock at the door disturbed the peace all too soon. Y/n called out for them to enter and was displeased with the news that Lord Guy requested to see the king.

After a few gentle nudges, Baldwin came awake slowly, drowsy and confused.

“Wha- what's going on? Are you okay?” he asked, a slight panic in his tone as he propped himself up on his elbows.

Y/n chuckled lightly.

“Yes my love, I am just fine. Guy wants to see you apparently”.

Baldwin sighed and flopped back onto the pillows, dragging his bandaged hands down his face in annoyance.

“And what does that harlott want from me now exactly?” he asked, his voice dripping with malice at the very mention of the man.

The queen grinned, her husband only spoke cruelly when he was tired. It was always interesting to hear the well mannered and measured king speak ill of another.

“I'm not sure, but you best go find out before he gets angry and questions your competence again” y/n replied.

Baldwin sighed heavily, sitting up as his wife placed a gentle hand on his back to assist him.

“Very well, only because I don’t need him causing another fuss” he reached for the silver mask that sat on the nightstand and slipped it onto his face, pulling his hood up and standing.

“I'll see you in however long this takes”. Baldwin pressed the iron lips of the mask against his wife's forehead softly.

“And i'll see you again then too” he said again, pressing the lips of the mask to the swollen stomach of his wife.

Y/n smiled as her husband disappeared out the door.

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

Baldwin walked down the halls of the castle, in no real hurry to face Guy and deal with whatever made up problem he had fabricated in an attempt to make the king seem incompetent.

Baldwin knocked on the door of Guy’s chambers and entered upon hearing approval.

Guy stood to bow, a small jerking motion that showed no real respect and was only done out of mere necessity.

“My lord, I was hoping to speak with you,” he said, smirking.

Baldwin scowled under the mask.

“Please make this quick, I have other duties to attend to,” he said, taking a seat at the table, opposite Guy.

“It's a small matter it really shouldn't take too long at all- I was just thinking about where I will sit if your.. Child.. Is born as a boy? Because I understand as it is now, that I am the only heir but if your child is a boy then I will be.. Removed from the role when you.. You know..” he chuckled nervously and smiled sarcastically.

That damn smirk only made Baldwin's blood boil further.

Perhaps if the young king was in a better state of mind and more well rested he would have reacted differently. But unfortunately he wasn't.

Baldwin took a deep breath before speaking.

“So let me get this straight, you called me in here to tell me about how you're concerned that you won’t be king when I die. You called me in here with you, to talk about how you're worried you wont have your time to shine when I’m dead. How dare you remind me of such things! I am going to be a father Guy, something you wouldn't know about since my sister won't even touch you and give you an heir of your own. Not like you will need anyone to rule after you anyway because as I stand here today, I tell you that no matter the gender of my baby that they will rule. Man or woman. Just to ensure that you will never get the chance to call yourself king of this land”

Baldwin stood and left the room swiftly, not giving Guy a chance to even open his mouth. 

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

Later that evening, dinner was called. As the young king usually took his meals alone, the queen was expected to attend the royal dinners as the figurehead.

Much to Baldwin's disdain because it meant that the two would have to part ways for an hour or so. They said their goodbyes and y/n slipped out of the chamber doors.

She was surprised to not find a maid outside their room as there was usually one there to assist her down the stairs and to the dining room, as her heavy pregnancy made it difficult to walk down the steep, stone staircase.

Y/n looked around for a moment, and then began down the stairs.

She was focused and methodical with her steps.

Perhaps too focused.

So focused that she didn't notice Guy approaching her from behind, only taking notice when two firm hands were pressed into her back.

The young queen was sent forward, losing her balance on the hard stone staircase and plummeting down to the bottom.

And then everything went black.

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

The first thing y/n noticed when she came too was the pain. Pain everywhere, a dull ache that spread deep in her bones.

The second thing she noticed were the panicked voices from every direction. One of which she recognised almost instantly.

“I DON'T CARE ABOUT WHAT MY DAMNED, SISTER SAYS, HE IS TO BE KILLED IMMEDIATELY. SENTENCE HIM TO DEATH” 

“Right away my lord"

The queen's eyes fluttered open at the sound of her husband's voice.

“B-Baldwin?”

The king practically ran to her side, crouching down beside the bed.

“I'm here my love, I'm right here” he took her hand in his and kissed it with the silver lips of his mask.

She smiled weakly at his presence.

“What happened?” she asked as physicians bustled around the room.

“Guy defiled you with an act of violence most cruel but I can assure you he has been put to death for his crime and will never get a chance to harm you again”.

Hot tears brimmed in the young queen's eyes as she remembered the staircase.

“And.. and the baby? Is the baby okay?” she asked, a sudden rush of panic flooding her.

Baldwin took a deep breath before answering.

“We don't know right now. But while you were unconscious the baby was felt kicking by several physicians, so that is a good sign” he said, a spark of hope in his melancholy voice.

Y/n breathed a sigh of relief at that. 

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

Later that night, when the physicians and maids had deemed the queen as stable and healthy aside from a few bruises and scratches (no broken bones, thankfully), the king and queen lay together in their bed.

The moonlight basked the room in a comforting pale glow and y/n was just about to fall into a light sleep when she heard a small sob from behind her.

It was quiet and if there was any other sound in the room she would have missed it.

“Baldwin?” she said gently into the darkness.

“Y-yes?” came the reply.

“What's wrong my darling?” she said, turning over to face him.

Her voice was so soothing, so kind, he could never hide his emotions from her.

“It's all my fault” he sobbed, burying himself into her warmth.

“What's your fault sweetheart?” y/n asked, wrapping her arms around her husband, sliding her hand into his soft hair.

“It's my fault that Guy did what he did! It's all my fault. I was such a child, I provoked him. He would never have hurt you and our baby if I didn't yell at him, I was immature, I'm so sorry” he cried, tears soaking into the bandages that covered his cheeks.

“Oh my darling man, it's not your fault. It's his own fault, you know that Guy is- was a savage man. He would have done it no matter what you said to him, the only reason he did it was because he wanted to be the only heir and eliminate any possible competition. His savagery is not your fault my love” she said, pressing a kiss to his head.

“Oh y/n, what did I do to deserve someone like you?” Baldwin replied, wiping his tears on the blanket that covered them both and burying himself further into her body.

Y/n chuckled lightly, pulling him closer.

“I could ask you the same question you know”

[v3x-y0urs3lf]

Qiu Lin x Loner / unpopular / shy? MC

Written during the demo ⭐️

Tamarack x Popular reader

Depending on what steps I’m talking about, I’ll change Qiu’s pronouns..

Also, I’m aware that being a ‘loner’ or unpopular doesn’t necessarily mean you’re shy. I do occasionally mention the MC being shy, unlike step 1 Qiu I’m not always going to be able to be too accommodating.

I kind of got sidetracked during the end of Step 3, I’m sorry it doesn’t really fit with the theme.

I am incredibly tired right now, apologies if the English isn’t clear. I did not proof read this.

————————————————————

I feel like this trope perfectly fits Qiu during a majority of the steps (1-3 I don’t really know about 4.) mainly because Qiu - despite not really intending on it, just is naturally popular even during step 2 (somehow?)

Step one Qiu just doing his usual thing with being overly accommodating and super welcoming to the new neighbour and they’re just.. not accepting it?

You can try and turn Qiu down softly or even just straight up ignore him and he’d.. accept it? I dunno, going off by Qiu’s normal reactions to when you choose to dismiss him.. he doesn’t seem like he’d care unless someone’s starting to judge or bother the MC and vice versa.

I’d like to just highlight that like.. everyone knows Qiu? I quite literally just imagine a bunch of kids during school constantly asking to play with him and while Qiu feels a bit too mean to decline.. he really wants to go play with his new neighbour?

Qiu would try and introduce the MC (and Tamarack.. maybe.) to all of his other friends but.. Neither of them are really budging which puts Qiu at a bit of a cross point.

I’m honestly not too sure what he’d do, lol. My heart wants me to say that Qiu would just go play with the MC anyways, regardless of how many people want him to play with t them but. My brain is telling me he’d give in to all the majority and play with them for a while before going to find the MC later.

Does that mean Qiu doesn’t want to go play with the MC instead? No. Does that mean Qiu doesn’t look their way occasionally while he’s playing tag with the other kids? No. Does that mean Qiu hurts the other kids’ feelings by straight up turning them down? Also no.

Logically thinking, despite what he wants- Qiu would pick to accomodate for the bigger crowd but leave a section of his time to make up for ‘ditching’ the MC for a moment.

It’s very obvious around that Qiu will always go back for the MC. No matter how fun the game is, No matter how distracted/forgetful he usually gets, No matter how many people he’s playing with- He will. Without a doubt. Go talk or play with the MC for at least 10 minutes before break or whatever ends.

Now, Step two.. “All they want in life is a little peace with the ones they trust. Such as, potentially their very favourite neighbor/neighbour.”

Qiu is still very obviously and very much ‘popular’. That never changes throughout their life (probably). They just don’t want to be.

Picture Qiu and MC, chilling by themselves and just avoiding people. By this stage there shouldn’t be any shyness or complete hatred and so, the two of them just sit with each other comfortably as Qiu rejects and declines any and all offers to hang out with anyone else but MC, Ren, Baxter(?) and.. potentially Tamarack? (Not sure about the last two.)

Unfortunately, Qiu can’t control their popularity or ‘Acquaintances’/old friends and everyone does notice when the ‘popular kid’ starts solely hanging out with one person in particular.

I’m not saying MC is getting bullied.. I’m just saying everyone can tell there is obvious favouritism and high school students can and will be mean.. take that as you will.

This is totally the time for “doesn’t get the hype but warms up to person B”.

I might just be biased but.. After 4 years you’d think you’d warm up to the neighbour kid enough to start to.. tolerate? Be content? .. perhaps even enjoy the presence of?

I don’t want to describe the MC too much but let’s just say the feelings between the both of them are mutual. (As in two teens just wanting to get away from the world.)

The two of you find solace in each other’s presence, the two of you having a mutual understanding that you both don’t really want to interact with the world but you’re totally fine with each other.

I hate how short step 2 was but I don’t know how else to describe angsty teens being angsty teens. So we’re moving onto Step three.

Qiu now understands the MC more, After having 8 years knowing each other and at least 4 years of deep conversations as angsty teenagers they can now officially say they understand your point of view.

Qiu doesn’t try to push the MC out of their comfort zone like he would’ve back in Step 1 but they certainly wouldn’t leave the MC to exactly stay in their own shell of aloofness.

Qiu does try to suggest getting out there, meeting new people but if you totally don’t want to- Up to you! They aren’t you and so they will NOT make that decision for you.

Autumn is up for a chat if you’re looking for one though, even the quietest, shyest, most aloof people in town sometimes need someone their age to talk to. Qiu gets it.

You were there through a very deep part of Qiu’s life and they are ready to be for you too if you want them there. Qiu can’t promise that they’ll help solve your problems or make you the talk of the town, but you better bet that they’ll cherish your relationship far after death do the two of you part.

[i-will-be-small333]

Pent Up Emotion

lando X femreader

summary- Lando has a pretty bad race and needs to take out his emotion

wc- 1.1k words

warnings- angst daddy kink, harsh ,sm*t

authors note- I love this fic more than any other i have read i hope you love it to. If you like it please leave a comment as it makes my efforts feel appreciated!

Thanks and enjoy!

You were watching the entire Austrian grand prix from the pitlane. You watched when Lando set his p2 lap in Q3 and celebrated. You watched when he overtook Max Verstappen for the lead during the sprint race. You watched Lando no matter what. You loved him. Unfortunately, when during the grand prix Max pushed Lando of the track and caused Lando to DNF you were there too. You were happy to see Lando, but you weren't happy to see the shunt take place. You knew the risks of motorsport and didn't want anything to happen to Lando. Ever. Lando was filled with rage after the race. You could tell his blood was boiling but he tried his best to be polite about it. Lando's anger was palpable as he stormed out of his car and onto the racetrack. The adrenaline from the intense race still coursed through his veins, but it was now mixed with a healthy dose of frustration and anger. Max's reckless move had cost him the win, and Lando couldn't help but feel like his competitor and friend had sabotaged him on purpose. It was clear that this incident would have repercussions far beyond the finish line. But what you did not expect is that Lando would end up taking all his frustration and harshness on you that night. Lando usual calm demeanor with you was replace by a bitterness and soreness from the loss on the way back to the hotel. You didn't want to say anything to Lando about it because you knew he was bothered, so you didn't even try and press on the issue. Instead, you comforted Lando with a sweet voice all the way back to the hotel. You reached the hotel at around 12:30 am in the night. It was getting late and the both of you needed a good night's rest.

Once you reach back to the hotel you take a place on your bed and scroll for a bit, your both very tired after the long day. After about 30 minutes of rotting on your bed you get up to go change into something more comfortable. You enter the bathroom with a pair of small shorts and a tank top. While changing, all of a sudden, Lando barges into the bathroom by accident and sees you, he quickly shuts the door and hollers "sorry babe!" "No prob Lan" you answer back. He was still a gentleman. You step out of the bathroom to see Lando sitting on the bed completely out of it. He looked so zoned out. "Babe, I need to fuck you right now." "Lan, your exhausted. Don't tire yourself out. You have had a long day-" You attempt to reason with him even though you wanted it as much as he does. But Lando cuts you off and argues back " I really don't care baby I need you bouncing on my dick right now." You pretend to think about it for a second even though you know you could never say no to him. Lando lets out a guttural groan. "Okay baby" Lando didn't feel the need to wait for any further encouragement. He. Went. Feral. "Mm, thanks m'baby" he whispers under his breath.

Lando wastes no time in removing your shorts. He takes them down with on hand while picking you up and placing you in the center of the bed. He unbuckles his pants as fast his hands can help him. He grips both of your wrists and holds your hand back. He then proceeds to give you a look making sure you were okay with this. You give him a small nod and he continues. He thrusts his length into you so suddenly and so sharply that you wince at the sensation. He starts forcing his length into you at faster and faster speeds. He was going so hard and so fast that the pain bought a tear to your eye. But it was good pain, the type of pain you wanted. He starts going at you even faster and more energetically. He readjusts your legs to bend your knees which allows him to dig even deeper into. The new position made you feel wonders and you were so close to finishing. A bead of sweat forms on Lando's forehead from the energy he was putting into you. " My favorite little fucktoy" he mutters. Lando can feel that you are close to finishing but does nothing to aid you. You finally finish and you can feel the knot in your stomach finally unravel but Lando keeps going in & out at the same pace. You try squeezing your legs shut but he pry's them back open. "Not yet my princess, Daddy has to c*m" You cry out from the overstimulation. "Lan, please stop. I can't take it any longer" You whine. Lando attempt to hush you down by saying " Its ok darling, I know you can take it" he let out a breathy sigh and then added "at least f'me", Lando starts going feral inside of you seeking his own release. Soon he gets what he was looking for a spill his c*m all inside of you. He sits back and sighs. "You ok my love?" he finally questions. "Yeah, just a little tired love" you answer a second later. " I'm sorry for being so harsh princess, I was taking out my anger on you. you're sure you're ok my love?" " of course I'm ok after that Lando, more than okay" you say chuckling. You try to get up and go to the bathroom but almost trip over because of how shaky your legs were. Lando sees that and comes rushing over to you, he tells you to sit down and then rushes to bring you a towel, some water and your shorts. He then proceeds to get into be with you and he gives you cuddles until you both fall asleep.

please leave a comment and like!

[miss-tc-nova]

S/O with Sleep Apnea - Leona, Jade, Floyd, Malleus

Okay, so this one kinda threw me for a loop. Sleep apnea is weirdly vague treatment wise, so I had to kinda...guess how to go about this. But I hope this lives up to your expectations, Anon!

Sorry about Jade and Floyd, this is actually my first time writing them. Lol

Premise: The boys find out their s/o has sleep apnea

Words:

Leona: 594

Jade: 610

Floyd: 689

Malleus: 702

~~~~~

Leona

Leona is no stranger to daytime drowsiness, having his own wrecked circadian rhythm. Seeing you tired and maybe grumpy is like having a kindred spirit. Hell, he doesn’t even mind the snoring. It’s kind of cute; plus he can always tease you about it later.

However, the seriousness of your sleep malady becomes all too real when the lion drowsily rises to use the bathroom in the middle of the night. On his return, rounded ears note a distinct, unnerving silence. His gaze immediately honing in, Leona sights you still fast asleep on his bed—suspiciously still. A shock of adrenaline floods his system as Leona snatches your shoulders. The jostling is just enough to remind your unconscious mind to adjust your throat muscles and asleep you remain.

But Leona will not be getting anymore sleep that night. Grumbling, he tries to shrug it off and get back to bed, but the moment he suspects it’s been too long since he heard your snore, his head promptly leaves the pillow to check on you.

Whether you’re aware of the apnea or not, Leona confronts you the next day, exhausted and irritable.

This sparks the first motivated study session Leona’s had in a long time. He reads up on the condition and treatment, even during class time. He’ll be damned if he loses sleep over having to worry about you while he sleeps. No, he does not worry about you.

First off, he gets one of those mandibular splint things. Being part of the SpellDrive club…Never mind, he finds Ruggie—being part of the SpellDrive club—to help shape your new mouthguard to fit. If that doesn’t work, he’ll consider the more expensive options. Do you get a say? No. Which is why he’s starting out small.

Unfortunately for Big Kitty, other non-surgical treatments include routine and healthy habits.

Fuck.

Suddenly, alarms are much more important. On his phone, on your phone, and even on Ruggie’s phone, there are two to three morning alarms. Goodbye sleeping in. It is now mandatory for BOTH of you to attend morning SpellDrive training. Doesn’t matter that you can’t fly nor does it matter if you’re any good, Leona’s up, so you are too.

Probably the most killer part is the nap regulations. No longer are you allowed to have random naps throughout the day. They must be before 2 AM and no longer than 30 minutes. Maximum. He hates every bit of it.

By the time evening comes around on the first day, both of you are suffering, so abiding by a new bedtime is no problem. But for a while, things get worse from the exhaustion. Admittedly, Leona considers kicking you out, but the thought of losing his favorite body pillow easily throws him off that idea. So the lion sticks it out.

And his efforts pay off. As the two of you struggle through a new routine, the grogginess and irritability gradually fade. Hell, even Leona has been less grumpy as he settles in, but don’t push it. Of course, the sleep apnea never truly goes away, but you sleep better with a proper routine. And Leona sleeps better without that nagging worry ticking in his brain.

“Oi, wake up. Nap’s over. I don’t care that you’re still tired; so am I. Get up. If you don’t get up right now, you can forget about sleeping in my room tonight. I ain’t putting up with your jacked up snoring. No, I’m not lying. Wanna try me? Hey! Don’t roll back over! Ugh, stupid herbivore. Shut up.”

Jade

Jade was very surprised at the snoring. He’d heard of the phenomenon, but never heard the sound first hand. He didn’t know what to make of it, but eventually attuned and accepted that this is how you slept.

He was not aware that your brand of sleeping was…wrong?

Having ventured into his beloved mountains, Jade ends up returning from later than expected. Well informed, you’re already fast asleep upon his return. As he unpacks and gets cleaned up, a small smile etches onto his lips as he listens. Then it stops. His attention turns to find you perfectly still. Alarm quickly grows, spurring him to your side. An arm beneath you and your name on his lips is enough of a shift to clear your throat. The snoring resumes.

And Jade will not be getting any sleep. The young man resolves to observe you for the remainder of the night. His late night investigations lead him to sleep apnea. The symptoms check out: perpetual exhaustion, a smidge of insomnia, headaches, and yes, he had to concede that you could be irritable at times. Oh, and look at that, your particular snoring isn’t that normal.

From that moment on, the eel begins formulating a plan. From what he could conclude, sleep hygiene played a considerable role in the management of sleep apnea. He starts with monitoring your daily routines, taking notes on the things that need to be corrected—you know, the things you do just trying to survive the day.

After a week, he finally begins implementing his little tricks. It starts with a morning routine. It’s not jarring alarms that wake you in the morning, but Jade’s gentle coaxing until you’re up and ready. At the same time, every day. He ensures you’re too distracted for any afternoon naps, asking for your assistance with his work or perhaps doing some little activity together.

And you don’t even notice him starting to regulate your caffeine intake. Post 2 PM and you’re cut off. Whatever tea and/or coffee you drink comes decaf. Alternatively, he preempts your caffeine craving with something without the addictive substance. He knows your tastes well enough to provide something to make you forget about your caffeine deprivation.

About thirty minutes before your new, undisclosed bedtime, Jade, himself, becomes a distraction. This could be reading a book, listening to music, preparing for tomorrow, or just having an entertaining discussion with him. Whatever it is, it involves no screens for you.

In addition to your new, wind-down routine, Jade prepares the room to perfection. The bed is comfortable, it’s not too hot or too cold, no light permeates the darkness, and even a pleasant scent lulls your sleepy mind.

Thanks to your fastidious boyfriend, it’s quite easy to conform to this new routine. It helps alleviate some symptoms of your sleep apnea and does wonders for your mood. While the sleep apnea won’t be cured, Jade makes them easy to endure, even on the worst of nights. And honestly, it takes months before you even put together what he’s done.

“My dear, shall we start on the next chapter of our story? I’m quite invested in what will happen next. Hm? I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean. You think I would manipulate my lovely partner in such a way? I see. Your suspicion wounds me. Oh? Hm-hm. You got me. I wondered how long it would take for you to notice. It’s only been three months. No, no, I’m flattered you would be so comfortably oblivious around me. I’m glad you’re feeling better. That’s all the payment I need. Well, I wouldn’t say no to a kiss.”

Floyd

For like a solid week, Floyd thought snoring was the funniest thing. He’s not sure if snoring can even happen underwater, but he’s never heard it before. So needless to say, that part didn’t bother him at all. It did get him all miffed when you would get snippy with him, but he had to relent when you would complain of a headache.

One night, there’s a disaster in the Lounge and Azul keeps all the staff late until it’s clean—Floyd included. So when he gets back to his room rather late, it’s no surprise that you’re there, already fast asleep and snoring away. Just as he finishes changing and is about to get into bed, he pauses.

It’s quiet—too quiet. Lazy eyes fall across his sleeping partner. The usual snoring he’d come accustomed to is gone. You weren’t breathing. His first reaction is to reach out, calling out to you. By the arm, he shakes you enough to jump start your breathing, yet somehow not wake you. Suspicious, he watches you for a moment, waiting for it to happen again. But it doesn’t take long for Floyd to get bored and join you in bed.

He mentions the occurrence to Jade and Azul. The snoring is fine, but he’s not particularly fond of the not breathing thing. That’s kind of important for land-dwellers, right? The trio quickly discovers what sleep apnea is.

At first, Floyd lets the whole thing go. But the longer the information lingers in his brain, the more the symptoms begin to eat at him until he finally admits that this sleep apnea thing really sucks.  

The sophomore gets Azul and Jade to help him figure out how to fix this. Honestly, there’s not much he can do, let alone with his own erratic behavior. But he starts with little things that he remembers.

He’s not very nice about it if he catches you napping, immediately waking you up, consequences be damned. Though he does try to make you less grumpy for it with favors and snacks.

And these snacks HAD to be Floyd-approved. Anything after dinner is confiscated and caffeine is off the table after 2 PM. And so dedicated to his task, Floyd will recklessly devour any treats unable to be saved for later, but only because he got in trouble for hurling them across the room. By multiple people. No, it doesn’t matter if it screws him over—chugging something too hot or wired and wide awake later. He’s being chaotic, but he’s doing it for you.

Lastly, Floyd is aware that how you sleep can help keep your airways clear. He acquires an extra pillow—from Azul’s room—to help elevate your head. If you weren’t a side sleeper before, you are now. Sometimes, in the dead of night, the eel just sits up like the living dead. Bapping hands assess your situation, pushing and pulling until you’re sleeping on your side, head propped up on your new pillow.

These new habits soon alter your own. You give up on naps, fed up with being violently rattled awake. You stop wasting money and effort on food and drinks you know you’re not supposed to have. You can’t even sneak any of those things because Octavanelle is full of snitches. Actually, it’s full of people afraid of Floyd, but same thing. With these regulations, your sleep schedule slowly stabilizes—it’s not perfect, but better. Even the grogginess and headaches are significantly more manageable. And Floyd is rather proud of himself about the whole thing, knowing that he’s the reason you’re doing better.

“Heeeeey, what’s that you got there? Looks like something loaded with caffeine. I don’t think you should have that. Gimme! Huh? Gross. This isn’t caffeine. Man, I was hoping for something good. Huh? Yeah, looks like you’re being good. And you have been sleeping better. So, do I get a reward? Whadya mean what for? For fixin’ your jank sleep. C’mon, at least give me something better than this decaf crap. Mmm, I guess a kiss will do—but like a million of ‘em. You better get started.”

Malleus

Malleus is fully aware you’re a rough sleeper and he adores it anyway. He knows of your general disdain of being awake and is sensitive of your frequent headaches. This man thrives on learning about you: the good, the bad, and the noisy.

As a nocturnal fae, he’s often awake well after you’ve gone to bed. It takes mere days for an incident to occur. Content in the presence of your sleeping form, he listens and takes in the confirmation that you’re here with him.

So it comes as a startle when he realizes the room is dead silent.

Fear immediately overtakes his rationale when he turns to find you perfectly motionless. Swiftly dragging you into his arms, he rushes for the door. Then freezes. In his arms you lie, still fast asleep, now snoring again.

He does not join you in bed this night, far too afraid that you might slip away while he sleeps. It nearly makes him sick, but he’s filled with relief when you awake the following day.

That’s the day Malleus learns about sleep apnea. He doesn’t like it at all. He thought he loved everything about you, flaws and all. But this is detrimental to your health and happiness and he must do something.

He seeks guidance in books and his friends. Lilia is of little help with his recommendations of hare-brained remedies. Silver and Sebek are quick to shut those down for the sake of an innocent soul. Still, with their help, they’re able to come up with a plan.

Malleus would readily fund any treatment you’re willing to try, from the smallest medical device to the most extensive surgery. As the issue at hand is not currently life threatening, he won’t push too hard for surgery—for now.

Still, other lifestyle changes are an option. This turns into a very difficult time for him as he loathes denying you literally anything. Waking you from cozy naps nearly breaks his heart. Taking away treats you’re preparing to enjoy makes him feel like a villain. He’s invariably torn between his guilt and adoration of your pouty face. Only his wishes for your well-being keeps him going.

However, his favorite part of this whole thing has to be the new bedtime routine.

It starts with closing the curtains, blocking out all outside light from coming through. The temperature of the room is adjusted to comfortably cool while the scent of sweet briar roses wafts through the air. Songs fill the silence while a gentle interruption of whatever task you had at hand brings your attention fully to him. There’s no arguing with him, not this late. And you dance. Just peaceful swaying as you talk of anything and everything. Whatever you have to say, he’ll hear it. Because this is your time together.

Just as your eyes begin to flutter and the first yawns interrupt your sentiments does Malleus send you off to brush your teeth, put in your new mouth splint, and get dressed for bed. If for some reason, you fend off sleep long enough, he’ll coax you from bed to sway again. Or perhaps you’ll sit at the window while he tells you fairy tales he was taught as a hatchling. Once you start nodding off again, he returns you to bed. He’ll repeat this as many times as he has to until you’re truly asleep.

If you opt to accept surgery, your sleep apnea is practically cured and you’ll be incredibly pampered through recovery. If not, Malleus’s efforts still pay off. Not only has your health significantly improved, but so has your mood. And any new incidents are practically non-existent. While Malleus feels your bond has become significantly stronger with these changes, he pleased that, above all else, you’re feeling better.

“Come now, my love. It’s time to put the pen down. I’ll help you with the rest tomorrow. How was your day today? I’m glad. You haven’t been having any headaches lately, have you? Hmm, I suppose that’s still better than it was. I’ll have to ensure we have more painkillers tomorrow just in case. Of course I’m going to. I have to take care of you after all. I always will.”

~~~~~

Nova's Twisted Wonderland Masterlist

[venture4treasure]

"Happy Birthday, Venture"

Words: 657

Premise: Venture’s birthday unfortunately overlapped an important Overwatch mission, but you do your best to make the best of it for them. 

Warnings: None

Three hours into a flight back to Gibraltar, and most of the agents have been lulled to sleep by the exhaustion of the mission aided by the gentle rumble of the plane engine. 

You slip into the empty seat besides Venture, they’re staring absent-mindedly out the window, head resting against their hand propped up on the tray table. They don’t make any acknowledgement of your presence. 

“Sloan,” you ask, your hand ghosting over their shoulder – unsure of if touch would startle them. 

They snap towards your voice, blinking a couple times to ground themselves before breathing out an exasperated groan. 

“Sorry, sorry,” they say, waving their hands for emphasis, “didn’t mean to ignore you, love”. 

“It’s fine,” you smile, reaching for a towel to wipe at some of the dirt on their face, “you didn’t wash up earlier?” 

“I was tired and thought I’d knock out instantly,” Venture leans back into their seat, “instead I’ve been thinking, getting into my own head about things”.

“Penny for your thoughts?” You hum. 

“It’s my birthday, I almost forgot with how busy everything has been,” Venture explains, “guess this whole ‘saving the world’ thing doesn’t come with vacation days”. 

“It’s also my first birthday away from family,” Venture adds, quieter, “like it was going to happen one day, but I really wish I were home with mi abuelita and not on this mission”.

Venture pauses, reflecting on what they’ve said. They make a face, sticking their tongue out as if spitting out something gross. 

“What am I saying,” they whine, “of course I want to protect the people and artifacts of Dorado, but…” 

You reach your arm across Venture’s neck, pulling them in for a hug. 

“No, I get it. We’re all so tired with everything recently,” you lean back, tracing their eye bags with your thumb – you can’t imagine how exhausted they are between Overwatch and the Wayfinders Society, it’s bad enough just trying to keep up with Overwatch alone these days. 

“Anyways,” you chirp, rummaging through your bag to take out a tupperware container. 

“Cupcakes,” you cheerily announce, “I wouldn’t forget your birthday”. 

Venture stares at you, at a loss for words. 

“How did you get them aboard?” 

“Who’s checking,” you ask back. Ana does, your mind helpfully supplies. But she all but encouraged you when you bashfully explained why, so that doesn’t count. 

Venture makes a noise, surrendering to your point. They pick up a cupcake, taking a bite.

“It’s good,” they lick their lips, “better than the rations on the plane for sure”. 

You agree, digging through your stuff again for a plastic bag that you haphazardly drop besides the cupcakes. 

“Rocks?” Venture asks, amused. 

You pick out one of the ‘rocks’ from the bag, breaking it in half to show them.

“Cake balls” you correct, popping the dessert in your mouth, “they’re really good, I got the recipe from Lena”.

“Lena cooks?” Venture raises a brow in disbelief, picking a cake ball for themselves. 

“No,” you laugh, “Emily does though, she's fantastic”.

The two or you eat in silence for some time, breaking the peace to show each other social media posts on your phones. 

“Oh,” you pull out a yellow slip of paper from your pocket, “I got this for you too”.

Venture takes the note, unfolding it to read its content. 

“A paid leave of absence…” Venture reads to themself, “from the Wayfinders Society and Overwatch?” 

“This isn’t real”. 

“It very much is,” you huff, “took forever to find who manages this kinda stuff for the Wayfinders, but Winston was happy to give you your well-deserved break”. 

Venture lets out a choked noise, catching you in a tight hug, shoving their face against your neck. You can feel them silently tear up. You hold them closer, running your hand comfortingly across their back. 

“Go enjoy a break with your abuelita,” you say.

“I will,” they assure, still clutching onto you.

“Happy birthday, Sloan”.  

Author’s Note: One (now a couple, oops) day late because I forgot until I saw a tweet about it.

[dewdrops-whammy-bar]

TDF chapter 3: Smile

The past few months have been rough for me but I’m back on that fanfiction grind.

Dew is having a real bad time in this one. This is the only chapter where his headspace will get this dark so don’t worry, he’ll be fine. This is his rock bottom and he’s going up from here.

psps I made a playlist

Read below or on ao3!

Words: 4062

Warnings: Dissociation, self-destructive behavior/allusion to self-harm, BPD split and the thoughts that come with that, flashbacks, description of physical abuse and injury, description of emotional abuse, religious trauma, panic attack, vomit mention

Taglist: @skele-bunny @rain-loves-scallops @dewphomet @0-miles-away

Dew taps the bottom of a tiny espresso mug on the counter and tosses it back like a shot. Unfortunately, it’s very hot. He should’ve known that, considering he had just made it, but he was tired. Which is why he’s currently choking down a scalding shot of espresso at 8 in the morning.

“Fuck- god-“ Dew hisses, diving for the sink to fill the tiny cup with water to soothe his burning mouth. It helps a little. “Ow- goddamnit-“

Luckily everyone else is in the kitchen, so Dew is saved from embarrassment for now. He places the little mug into the dirty dish bin and returns his attention to setting up the grinders. Ow. There goes my sense of taste.

Cumulus pushes the curtain in the kitchen doorway out of the way, carrying a tray of various baked goods with her. Dew steps aside to let her pass and she gets to work stocking the glass display case.

“You doin’ alright, hun?” She asks, setting muffins onto a tray in perfectly even rows. “Sorry we had to call ya in early, Sunny’s got some kinda stomach bug.”

“I’m alright, it’s no problem.” Dew lies through his teeth. It’s not like he’d been up all night, grinding his teeth and pacing. He just has to make it through the next five hours and then he can go home and sleep.

Cumulus cocks a bushy eyebrow at him but says nothing. She offers him a cranberry muffin from the tray. Dew takes it gratefully.

“Take care of yourself today, Dew.” She tells him softly before turning back to the pastry trays. Dew nods silently, too busy shoving the muffin into his mouth to answer. He checks the clock- ten minutes to opening.

Luckily, he can somewhat taste the muffin with his scorched tongue. It cheers him up slightly. Unfortunately the heavy tightness in his chest and throat doesn’t budge. It’s been there since last night when the shell holding all his unhelpful emotions in a tight little ball cracked and began to leak. 

“Well look who’s up!” Swiss crows, sweeping past Dew to restock the stack of paper to-go bags in a drawer behind the counter. “Never thought I’d see you conscious before ten AM. What was it? An act of god? Three ghosts showing up and convincing you to have a change of heart?”

“Sunny’s hangover, actually.” Dew rolls his eyes. “Didn’t think she’d be the kind of person to drink on a Sunday night.”

“Oh, no, she’s actually sick.” Swiss’s normally cheerful, slightly mischievous expression fades for a moment. “I got up at 5 to get her ginger ale and saltines, and you know how much she hates bothering people.” He chews on his lip.

“Shit, sorry.” Guilt joins the wad of half-chewed emotions in Dew’s gut. “I hope she’s doing okay.”

“Me too,” Swiss sighs. “She’ll be fine, don’t worry.” He takes the hair tie off his wrist and pulls his locs back into their usual high ponytail. “I would offer to take the register but Cirrus wants me in the kitchen.”

Dew sighs. “I’ll try not to kill anyone.”

“Good luck.” Swiss gives a two-finger salute and disappears back into the kitchen. Dew walks around the counter, trudges to the front door, and unlocks it. The neon ‘open’ sign is flicked on. Dew looks at his reflection in the window in the harsh light. He looks half-dead. Feels like it too.

He rubs his eyes with the heels of his hands and heaves a sigh. If he has to take an extra smoke break to give himself the strength to make it through his shift, so be it. His lungs aren’t getting any less shriveled.

Dew is pulled from his tired thoughts by a soft tap on the glass door. He sighs again and lowers his hands to pull the cafe door open. “Sorry, come in. Spaced out a bit.”

“No worries. Good to see you again, though!” A familiar voice, deep and smooth and the subject of a few late-night fantasies. Dew’s head snaps up fast enough to make his neck pop. Aether stands before him, wearing- oh good lord, are those scrubs ?

“Uh- give me a sec.” Dew scampers back behind the counter and takes the precious few seconds he has to process this new information. He curses his stupid medical kink. If there is a god, he has a sick sense of humor.

He taps on the dark screen of the register, willing it to turn on. After a few seconds of increasingly harder taps on the display, he realizes he should press the on button. Why didn’t he turn it on before opening?

“Um- it takes a minute to turn on.” Dew chuckles nervously. Unlike me, who’s pitching a tent over a customer in scrubs.

“That’s alright. I’m not in a hurry.” Aether smiles. “I usually wouldn’t come in until later but I have to shadow a nurse this morning. Twelve hour shift on a Monday.” He sighs and runs a hand through his hair.

“Is that what you’re studying?” Dew asks, his hands frantically navigating to the right screen. Curse this stupid digital register. “Nursing, I mean.”

“Yeah!” Aether seems to perk up. “I’m specializing in obstetrics and neonatal care. Midwife stuff.”

“Oh, that’s cool.” Dew answers sincerely. Would he give me a pelvic exam if I as-

SHUT UP, Dew scolds his horny thoughts. The register finally boots up to the transaction screen and he sighs with relief.

“What can I get for ya?” He asks, holding back a yawn. Aether considers the menu on the back wall for a moment.

“Hmm… I’d like a large iced dirty chai with… four shots of espresso.” Aether requests. Dew raises an eyebrow as he punches in the order.

“Four? You trying to meet a fifth dimensional being today?” He jokes, grabbing a cold cup and a sharpie.

To his surprise and delight, Aether giggles, ending in an adorable snort. “Nah, I just need a lotta energy. Twelve hour shift, remember?”

“Yeah- I think I’d do the same.” Dew rings up the order. “Uh- $7.43.”

Aether hands over a lightly crumpled ten and his punch card. Dew punches it- a smiley face this time- and slides it back over the counter with Aether’s change. “I’ll have that ready soon.”

“Thanks.” Aether smiles- that goddamn smile- and steps back to stuff his change back into his wallet. Dew’s tired mind drifts as he goes into autopilot making the espresso. He’d like to see that smile and those crooked teeth more. Especially if he was the one causing Aether to smile.

Then his daydreams come crashing down. A guy like Aether was surely taken. He had a partner, a fiancé, maybe even a spouse. Dew wasn’t going to break up a relationship because of a fleeting crush.

It’ll pass . He scolds himself. The chai concentrate and milk are added to the cup and the espresso is poured on top. You have to get yourself together. Focus on what’s important. He doesn’t smile as he slides the drink across the counter toward Aether.

“Here ya go,” he recites in his customer service voice. “Have a good one.”

“You too, thanks Dew.” Aether smiles as he scoops up his drink- god, his hands are huge. Dew waits until the man is out the door before slamming the side of his fist against the countertop in anger. Tears prickle at his eyes- why does everything have to be so hard ? Why can’t he just focus on work and making music and functioning as an adult without his feelings getting in the way?

He wants to scream and curl up in a ball under the register counter and cry. It reminds him of the time he’d accidentally dropped a bottle of some mechanical fluid while poking around his father’s tool shed. The aged plastic had cracked and begun leaking dark and sticky fluid onto his favorite shoes. He’d tried to fix it, put duct tape over the crack and scrubbed the cement floor clean, but his shoes were ruined. He had begged his parents for them, red and yellow with velcro closures and the number 95 emblazoned across the side. Cars was his favorite movie for most of his childhood. He had crawled under the workbench and cried until his father found him and scolded him for snooping.

That same cornered, hopeless feeling blooms in his chest now. He wants to go home- at least now he has a home. That scared little girl never had a “home” to go to. All she could do was hunker down and weather the punches.

Dew thinks he would rather relive his entire teenage experience than have his own mind turn against him like this. He’s scared and tired and he doesn’t know what to do. So he does the easiest thing he can think of- shuts down his brain and takes orders. During quieter moments, he cleans the machines. He has to keep his hands busy. He makes a to-do list in his brain:

Take a nap once I get home

Re-string guitar

Shower- NO JERKING OFF.

Check on that tupperware of mold in the fridge, note new colors. Report back to Rain.

Some time passes. He takes orders, warms baked goods, gives customers hollow smiles, and doesn’t. think. This works until his smoke break. Dew sparks up a cigarette and uses the taste of smoke to ground himself.

Nurse Aether would have a fit if he caught me smoking. Dew thinks to himself with a dry chuckle. The hoodie he’d brought with him isn’t warm enough to keep him comfortable so he cuts his smoke break short and heads inside. He stops at the cramped employee bathroom to piss.

Ohhhhh. That’s why I’ve been feeling like shit.

Luckily the box of menstrual products under the sink is fully stocked. Dew digs out a tampon, grinding his teeth at the gaudy pink wrapper. It doesn’t usually bother him but right now it feels like a kick in the ribs while he’s already down.

You go girl! The wrapper taunts him. Dew throws it back into the box and pulls out another one. #Girlboss! It reads.

“Okay, well, fuck you too.” Dew grumbles. He pulls out another one- Breathe and center yourself. That wouldn’t be too bad, if not for the Venus symbol emblazoned next to the words. He tosses that one back too and groans.

God, he wants to go home. That way he can put on his period boxers and not worry about shoving chemical-filled cotton up his pussy. A pad would move around too much in his boxers so he’s forced to resort to the alternative.

Dew gives the tampons one last try. They’re merciful this time, giving him a yellow wrapper and the words dream big.  

One haphazard insertion (cold fingers are not the most dexterous with smooth plastic) later, he’s feeling slightly more put together. At least his pants are black today.

His reflection looks back at him in the mirror- he swears the hollows of his throat and cheekbones seem sharper than usual. He looks like a skeleton. He feels sweaty, even though his fingers are still numb from the cold. His tongue and throat are tender from that shot of near-boiling espresso. The taste of smoke makes him almost nauseous.

Dew swallows and looks at his watch. He has two hours left on his shift. His body tells him to go home but his stubbornness wins out. Two hours is nothing.

The cramps hit after about 45 minutes. Luckily Dew’s on dish duty so he can hunch over the sink and grit his teeth and power through. He just wants to go home. Cirrus pulls him aside twenty minutes later. Dew expects her to ask him to stay for another hour or two- she’s got that slightly stressed look on her face.

“How long do you need me for?” Dew asks, trying not to look too disappointed. Cirrus shakes her head.

“I want you to go home. Frankly, you look like you’ve been through war.” She pats his shoulder. “You have PTO. Give yourself a few days to rest, alright?” Dew opens his mouth to protest but she squeezes his shoulder in a comforting yet slightly threatening way. “ Rest. ” 

The care and concern in her eyes is the final straw. Dew crumbles into pieces, his carefully built shell around all his emotions shattering. A sob works its way out of his throat and his knees buckle. Cirrus catches him and lets him lay his head on her shoulder.

God, he feels pathetic. He hasn’t cried in six years- not since the night he’d slipped out the back door of his parents house with his guitar, a backpack, and a greyhound bus ticket. He’d promised himself he’d be strong. Turns out it only took a sleepless night and a spiral over a fleeting crush to break him.

“It’s okay, buddy.” Cirrus murmurs to him. “Let it out. No judgement.”

“I wanna go home…” Dew whimpers into her shoulder. He’s going to get fired for this, but right now he doesn’t care.

“You can go. Take all the time you need.” Cirrus replies. “I won’t tell anyone about this.”

Dew nods. He doesn’t trust that she’ll keep his moment of weakness a secret but he appreciates the facade of security. “I’ll come back as soon as I can.”

“You’ll come back as soon as you feel better .” Cirrus corrects him, pulling back and holding him at arm’s length. “Don’t force yourself.”

“Okay.” Dew swallows. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.” Cirrus shrugs. “Just promise me you’ll take care of yourself.” She holds out her pinky.

Dew looks at the offered finger and links his own pinkie around hers. It makes him smile a bit, he has to admit. “Deal.”

The walk home is bitterly cold and his fingers are stiff as he unlocks his door. He groans as the heat of the apartment envelops him. Thank fuck the heating system decided to work today.

Dew kicks off his boots and makes a beeline for his bedroom. He collapses into bed and burrows under the covers fully clothed. He’s fully expecting to close his eyes and drift off easily, but… sleep doesn’t take him. 

Fuck. He knew he shouldn’t have overdone the caffeine today. His heart and brain are racing. He rolls onto his stomach and screams into the pillow.

The scream turns into a sob and now he’s crying again. God FUCKING damnit. He doesn’t even fight it this time. There’s no one home to witness his weakness. So Dew sobs and screams into his pillow and curls into a tear-stained ball.

He manages to cry himself to sleep for a merciful few hours. The dreams he manages to remember consist of dark rainy highways, dingy bus lighting, and faceless strangers.

Dew drifts awake sometime later to the sound of Rain’s footsteps. For a guy built like uncooked spaghetti, he can really stomp. 

Through the gaps in his curtains he can see that it’s dark. Granted, it’s November so that could mean it’s anytime between 5 PM and 8 AM.

He looks around blearily for his phone and discovers it in the pocket of his jeans. He’s shivering and absolutely soaked in sweat. Gross.

It’s 6 PM. Five and a half hours of sleep are better than nothing. Dew drags himself out of bed with a pained groan and pushes his hair out of his face. Shower, then eat.

So he does just that- peels his clothes off in front of the bathroom mirror, turns the water temperature up as hot as he can stand, and stands in the shower for what feels like hours until the stickiness melts off his skin. He tastes salt- he’s crying again.

“ Why?” Dew whimpers to himself, sinking to his knees. His chest aches deeply as he takes desperate gulps of air. Oh no. Please no.

His heart is pounding and his hands are shaking. 

He kneels in the shower, one hand clasped over his mouth to muffle his sobs. On the shower floor is a necklace, the delicate gold chain snapped. The heart locket pendant is open, the photos inside unrecognizable from water damage.

Why was this happening now? Today of all days?

Dew wants to scream and punch the wall. He wants to rip that fucker apart with his teeth. He picks up the locket and rips the two halves apart.

He’d TRUSTED him. He’d laid on the roof and smoked weed with him, telling each other the things they each kept hidden. He’d spent countless steamy nights in the back of his car. Dew’s guitar was a birthday present from him, secretly bought with his parents’ credit card.

Then he’d turned around and told the whole school EVERYTHING. He’d gone from sharing knowing glances and stealing kisses in the school bathroom to spreading Dew’s secrets to the entire school- and worse- the church.

Dew’s jaw aches from how hard he’s clenching it. Old anger wells up in his tear ducts. He was why Dew had sworn off romance. He couldn’t be betrayed like that again. It would destroy him.

The shower starts to cool down, snapping Dew out of his misery for the moment. He gets out and dries off. He doesn’t care that he gets blood all over his towel or his hair drips all over the floor. Keep moving. Don’t let your past catch up.

So he dries his body and hair, goes through the ordeal of dealing with his tampon, and finally slips his period boxers on. He washes his face, examines the faint wisps of a mustache on his upper lip and sighs. Dysphoria is a bitch.

Dew wanders to the kitchen, still feeling hollow with exhaustion and disorientation. It doesn’t help that he’s hungry too so he digs a mini pizza out of the freezer and pops it in the microwave.

It spins. And spins. Around and around. Like swirls of blood going down the shower drain or lazy curls of smoke. Dew suddenly doesn’t feel hungry. He leaves his pizza in the microwave and curls up on the couch. The microwave beeps at him and he flips it the bird. 

The crumpled paper buried in his dresser drawer crosses his mind. He could write. It seemed to help a few days ago.

Dew doesn’t feel like getting up so he snags a pen off the coffee table with his foot and rolls up his sleeve to use his arm as a makeshift journal page. There’s not much space so he tries to write down one-word descriptors. Angry. Tired. Frustrated. Violent. Betrayal. A

Dew stops before he can write the name. He licks his thumb and smears the ink away. Him. Horrible ex.

Scared. Dew pauses. He is scared. Scared of being rejected, scared of peeling away the layers of armor around his heart and exposing his weak spot. His Achilles heel.

Achilles was hella gay, wasn’t he? Yeah. For that other guy. Patroclus. Dew had learned about the story in English class. His teacher had glossed over their relationship as “brotherly comradery” but Dew’s little closeted brain had known better. He found a retelling of the story online and secretly downloaded the PDF to his phone.

The ending had made him sob for hours. It was so beautifully tragic. At the time, he’d hoped that maybe his story would be different. That his mother would accept him before it was too late, before he was buried.

That was a naive fucking fantasy. His mother had clung so hard to her vision of a perfect blonde-haired blue-eyed Catholic daughter that her claws left permanent scars.

Dew’s hand- the one holding the pen- drifts to the back of his head. Speaking of scars…

His vision tunnels and his breath hitches. Here he goes again.

The scent of butternut squash. Dew’s mother had come to the dinner with a stack of Dew’s journals- neatly tabbed and annotated- and read out every entry detailing his process of questioning his faith. Thank fuck he hadn’t written down any of his gender crisis.

He’d been forced to sit there and swallow back tears as his parents told him he was weak, he was stupid, he was letting the devil in.

Dew had mustered up enough courage to snap back. He’d stood up and gone to storm out of the kitchen.

His mother cornered him. He tried to duck and slip past her.

Pain exploded across his face as the back of her hand connected with his cheek. He reeled and lost his balance.

A flash of pain, so bright he could see it. Like a thousand suns.

Stars. Pain. It hurt so much. He tasted pennies. The kitchen ceiling swam above him as his parents yelled at each other. It felt like a dream. His stomach churned with nausea.

He barely managed to muster the strength to turn his head before his dinner came up all over the floor. Something warm and wet was soaking into the back of his sweater. He wanted to wake up from this nightmare.

His memory was choppy from that moment. Trees speeding by outside a car window, sterile lights of a hospital, doctors shining lights in his face. A machine where he had to lie really still as it beeped and rotated around his head.

“Dew?”

Finally he was carried back into the house and laid on the couch. His parents stood over him and told him in concerned voices that this had happened because he had let the devil into his heart. Dew was too dazed and tired to argue so he nodded his head and apologized.

“Dew? Dude, you okay?”

His rosary was placed in his hands and he was ordered to pray. He did, begging forgiveness from a god that never answered until he was allowed to sl-

“Dewdrop!”

Dew’s eyes snap open. There’s a hand on his shoulder- he flinches away from it.

“Sorry- dude, you okay?” Rain is crouched next to the couch, big blue eyes wide and worried. 

Dew is too tired to pretend. He shakes his head and bursts into tears again.

“Woah, woah. Can I sit with you?” Rain asks softly. Dew nods.

Over the next few hours, Dew splits himself open. It hurts, but fuck it feels good to release everything. Rain wouldn’t tell anyone anyway. He starts by telling him about Aether. His stupid gorgeous puppy crush. Then his fear of relationships, then his shitbag ex, then the flashback Rain had interrupted. He probably wasn’t coherent for a lot of it but his friend seemed to understand.

“…That’s fucked up.” Rain tells him after a moment of silence. “I’m… so sorry.”

“Not your fault.” Dew sniffles, muffled by the blanket his face is buried in. “Thanks for listening.”

“Anytime.” Dew feels Rain shift awkwardly on the couch. “Can I get you something?”

“Made a microwave pizza. Can you reheat it for me?” Dew asks. Rain nods and gets up.

“And… stay with me?” Dew adds sheepishly. “I can’t be alone right now. I’ll smoke myself to death or-“ he stops and swallows. “Something worse.”

“Got it.” Rain shoots him a smile. “Want a soda?”

“ Please. Did you get another case?”

“Yep. Splurged a bit and got a case of cherry coke too.” Rain opens the fridge and grabs two cans.

“Fancy.” Dew manages to smile- a genuine one. It’s shaky but it’s real. He takes the plate of pizza and the can of off-brand Dr. Pepper with a grateful nod.

“I had some extra change.” Rain shrugs, popping open his can. There’s an expression on his face that makes Dew raise his eyebrow.

“Who’d you suck off?”

“Oh, shut up.” Rain elbows him. “Just a quick coding commission. Someone wanted an in-browser game to put on their website.”

“Alriiiight.” Dew still has suspicions, but he leaves it alone. Not his business anyway.

The two of them stay there, laughing and talking until well past midnight. Dew feels like a weight has been lifted from his chest. By the time he heads off to bed, he feels vastly better. He changes into pajamas and crawls under the blankets.

Maybe Aether won’t be as bad as the last guy, he thinks before sleep takes him.

Kudos and comments on ao3 are greatly appreciated!

[littleskeletonprincessss]

Here, have this

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

"God, you're so annoying, y/n! You don't have any idea what you're fucking talking about!" Schlatt yelled, walking away from you and into the kitchen.

"Excuse me, Mr. I'm-too-busy-to-spend-even-a-second-with-my-girlfriend! It's not my fault you've taken on so much and stretched yourself so thin! You did this to yourself!"

It was the 5th night in a row where Schlatt had to call and tell you he 'had to work late' and 'sorry hon, rain check for dinner tonight'.

"Jesus Christ I am so tired of you nagging me all the time! You're always around, just leave me the fuck alone for once!"

"If that's how you feel then maybe we shouldn't even be together!"

"There's a bright idea. Nice to know you can have those every once in a while."

"Fuck you, Schlatt! We're done." You yelled, before grabbing your purse and walking out of his house.

Walking into your apartment, you let your purse drop to the floor and flopped onto your couch, leaning your head back, and letting out a loud sigh, releasing all the pent up anger you'd harbored on your angry drive home.

It unfortunately wasn't uncommon for you and Schlatt to get into arguments. They'd usually result in one of you storming out of the house, and either returning later that night to exchange apologies and end with rough, angy make up sex or returning the next day and deciding it'd be best for both of you if you took a break for a while.

This was the fourth time it'd happened, and you were tired of it. You loved Schlatt, you really did. But God was it exhausting to break up and get back together all the time. You knew that this wasn't what it was supposed to be like.

Deciding to call Schlatt in the morning you turned on your TV for the sole purpose of serving as background noise for you to numbly fall asleep to, preparing yourself for what would come in the morning.

-------

When you woke up, you briefly looked around your apartment before remembering the previous night's fight. You'd grown used to waking up in Schlatt's warm arms, his face buried in your neck from behind, so it was almost a strange feeling to be cold and alone.

Looking at the clock it read 10:30. Schlatt would probably be awake, most likely editing again. You pressed the call button on his contact half expecting him not to answer.

"Hey."

"I think we need to talk."

"Yeah, I guess."

"Coffee?"

"Yeah. I can be there in 20."

"See you then."

You left only a few minutes later after running your fingers through your hair and brushing your teeth, making yourself look somewhat presentable, and almost subconsciously walked to the coffee shop down the street, a place that had quickly become of favorite of yours and Schlatt's.

Looking around and not seeing him yet you at a table by the door, watching it and gently scratching your arms as a distraction from the way you were feeling.

Schlatt walked in and after briefly meeting your eyes sat silently across from you. It was obvious how little either of you wanted to be there right now, and it looked like neither of you wanted to speak first.

"Schlatt, we can't keep doing this."

Taking a deep breath, Schlatt muttered a defeated "I know."

"I think we need to break up. For good this time."

He sat silent for a long pause, staring at the fingers he was tapping on table.

"Whatever." he finally said, quickly standing up and leaving the coffee shop without another word or glance your way.

You sat for a bit, letting what had happened sink in. That was it. Wiping away the trapped tears that were making your eyes burn and throat hurt you left as well, walking the opposite way that Schlatt had, to your apartment, heartbroken and alone.

----------

It'd been a week. There were no texts, no calls, nothing exchanged between either of you. Schlatt hadn't posted anything, which surprised you. He had been trying to be more consistent with it. You posted a memory on Instagram and he wasn't among the notifications of likes like he normally would be.

This was foreign. You and Schlatt had started as friends before you'd gotten together the first time. You'd never gone longer than a couple days without any sort of contact, and that was only because he'd had to go back home and had forgotten his phone charger.

Your kitchen counters were littered with pizza boxes, food wrappers, bottles, you hadn't been bothered to cook anything or clean anything up. You could stand for a shower, shown evident by the greasy knot on top of your head and the thin layer of grime that had settled on your skin. Snotty and tear soaked tissues blanketed your living room floor. You were sinking and there was no one that could pull you up.

"I'm so pathetic" you whispered to yourself, looking at your smelly clothes and dirty surroundings. "I can't just sit here anymore." you resolved, standing up before moving to the bathroom to shower and start putting your life back in order.

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

A few hours later you were tying the last garbage bag, your apartment, and you, looking leagues better than they had earlier..

A knock on your door pulled your attention away from cleaning. You hadn't ordered anything and your neighbors weren't usually the kind to stop by for anything.

Opening the door you were surprised by what you saw.

"Schlatt?"

There he stood, nearly filling your door frame with his large frame. He was unshaven, and his outfit looked about how yours had this morning, wrinkly and disheveled. But what surprised you was that he was crying. In all the time you'd known him, as a friend or a boyfriend, you'd never seen Schlatt cry.

But here he was, on your door step, big brown eyes watery with unshed tears, his nose running and red.

"Y/n" he choked out, voice rough from a combination of unuse and sobs.

Before you could say or do anything, Schlatt reached out and pulled you into his chest, wrapping his arms around you in a tight hug and hiding his face in your neck.

"I'm so so sorry for how I was treating you recently. You were right, I'd been spending too much time away from you. But I'm gonna get better." He blubbered.

"Schlatt--" you started, before he cut you off.

"I am. I'm going to be so much better for you. I know I don't deserve you, Y/n, I know you deserve someone who's so much better than me, but I'm gonna be better for you. I love you so much, angel. I know, we've had our issues, and i've said things in the past, but none of it is true. You're it. You're it for me. I need you in my life, Y/n. This last week has been hell without you. God I can't even begin to explain how I felt in the coffee shop when you said we were done for good. My whole world came tumbling down. It hurt so, so much. And I know it hurt you too and i'm sorry that I pushed you to do that. Please, give me one more chance. Please."

He looked into your eyes after that speech, trying to find your response before you said it.

Letting out a small sigh you pulled him down into another hug, clearing your throat from the new wash of tears that came over you.

"I love you, Schlatt."

You could feel Schlatt let out a breath you knew he'd been holding before he held you even tighter than before, if it was possible.

"I love you. So much."

[kiiwiigii]

The Red-Eyed Boy pt. iii

Pt. One | Two | Outtake

Alec x Swan!Fem!Reader

Summary: Alec returns and shows you how sorry he is. *wink, wink*

Warnings:

Smidge of angst

Smidge of bondage

Straight up smut

Word Count: 3,130

A/N: Today I learned that suck at writing smut, but please enjoy anyways. As with all my Alec fics, he is aged up. Also, I am fucking obsessed with this gif.

Tags: @rosedpetal, @lack-lust-3r, @badass-daisy-22

Alice and Bella eyed me warily from their spot on the kitchen table as I padded around the kitchen. It was my turn for dinner tonight and I was working on a new recipe.  

"Please stop looking at me like that. I'm not about to keel over dead and I'm definitely not about to poison Bella right before she gets married." 

I grinned when Bella scrunched up her nose in annoyance. 

"You're not gonna die because you're tied to Edward through a piece of paper, Bells." 

"Says you." She grumbled. 

"Have you heard from him?" Alice asked softly. 

"No." I pursed my lips. 

It had been nearly two weeks, and I hadn't heard a damn thing from Alec. I had called and texted only to be ignored and left on read. I knew he'd be mad, but for the love of God, he was taking this too far. I just wanted to strangle him. I had spent the first week moping before trying to shake myself out of it. I refused to let myself fall into the state that Bella had after Edward left. 

Although it was really hard not to. I still had my moments, usually in the evenings when I was alone. 

I paused in the middle of chopping an onion, looking over my shoulder at Alice. Her visions were the only thing I could really count on right now, unless I had a vision of my own. Unfortunately, sleep had been avoiding me, and when I did sleep nothing came to me. 

She shook her head sadly, indicating that she hadn't seen anything. Yet. However, she also hadn't seen anything different from her previous visions, so nothing had really changed, and that gave me hope. 

"So, Y/N, we have your first dress fitting tomorrow." Alice, thankfully, changed the subject.  

"Ooh yay! Do I get to see Bella's dress?" 

Bella groaned before plonking her head onto the table. She was so easy to tease. 

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you didn't want to marry me." Edward entered the kitchen, shrugging off his jacket. 

I smiled watching them all together, happy to watch the little scene from afar. Eventually I had to turn back around, doing my best to hum a tune in my head, both to distract myself from the situation with Alec and so Edward wouldn't pick up on my depressing thoughts. This should be a happy time. 

Somehow, I don't think I was fooling anyone. 

It was official. I hated weddings and anything to do with them. I was almost positive that had I not been in a house full of vampires, Rosalie would have stuck a few pins in me on purpose.  

It was dark by the time I finally arrived home, and all I really wanted to do was shower and pass out on my bed. Keeping up a relatively happy façade almost 24/7 was exhausting. 

The house was dark, and I suddenly remembered that dad was out on one of his camping trips with a friend. Well, at least I would have the house to myself, and I could be as depressed as I wanted. 

I went straight to my room to gather some pajamas and a towel. I almost felt too tired to even shower, but I'll be damned if I'm not going to make sure I do some basic self-care. Throwing my bag onto the bed, I began to strip. 

"You should keep your window locked." 

I jumped and let out a scream, quickly covering myself, dress already hanging half off. 

It was Alec, propped up on my bed, another book in hand. How had I not seen him?? I even threw my bag in his direction. 

"Are you trying to give me a heart attack?" I wheezed at him, trying my best to get my racing heart back under control. 

"Not particularly." His eyes roamed over me, from head to toe, his eyes lingering on my neck, where my pomegranate seed necklace hung. And then the dangling straps of my dress. "You look beautiful, tesoro." 

I blinked rapidly, trying my best to figure out what the hell was happening. I hadn't heard from Alec in nearly a month and here he was, just sitting here. In my room. On my bed. As if nothing had ever happened.  

"Where have you been? Why have you been ignoring me?"  

He simply eyed me before closing the book with a thump.  

"I was extremely… angry. There was a while where I did not really have control of myself. I even scared Jane." He admitted. "I didn't want to take it out on you. Or for you to see that side of me." 

I glared at him. 

"So, you just disappear without a word? Didn't bother telling me that you were okay and that you just needed space? You're aware that I've had visions of you since I was like, six years old, right? I've seen you angry." 

"Not like this, you haven't." He said quietly. 

"Do you know what I thought? I thought you had left me. Despite whatever Alice's visions tell her, I know that they can change at the drop of a hat. I was just sitting here waiting, praying that you wouldn't change your mind." 

Fuck, here come the tears. 

He was next to me in a heartbeat, hands cupping my face. I tried to back away, but he kept his grip firm. 

"I would never leave you, Y/N." He said softly, wiping the tears away. "Ever. I have never been good at relationships. I have always kept myself at arm's length, but you, you are different. And when I saw you on that field, after the battle, I had never been so scared and angry in my life." 

He paused for a minute, searching. "Had I lost you, I would have burned the world down." 

My breath hitched in surprise, and I could feel my heart skip a beat. He kissed me then, and I allowed it, wrapping my arms around his neck as he reached for my waist. His kiss was soft and controlled, while mine was bordering on desperation. 

"Don't you ever do that to me again." He whispered against my lips, a warning. 

Why did that turn me on and piss me off at the same time? 

"I'm sorry, what was that? Because it sure didn't sound like an apology, Alec." 

He pulled me flush against him, nipping at my collarbone in reproach. I hissed in pain, but he quickly soothed it over with his tongue. 

"Then let me show you how sorry I am." He whispered. 

He pulled me in for a heated kiss and I couldn't help but gasp. Alec took the opportunity to dip his tongue into my mouth again, and the moan that worked its way up my throat had him growling possessively. 

I could already feel my nipples tightening and the wet heat between my legs. 

I grabbed him by the collar to pull him closer. He gladly obliged and before long, he had me pressed into the bed, right underneath him, his lips giving slow languid kisses anywhere he could reach. 

"Alec." My voice was caught in my throat. 

Goddammit. He hadn't even gotten me out of my clothes before he had me begging. Hell, he had barely even touched me.  

And I was supposed to be mad at him, dammit! 

He paused, lips at the swell of my breast. Finally, he lifted himself up so he could look me in the eye, searching my face. 

"Do you trust me?" 

I nodded my head furiously. 

"I need to hear you say it, Y/N." 

"I trust you." 

I was practically panting. 

Alec produced a long strip of gauzy fabric and slowly tied my hands together, gauging my reaction, before putting them above my head. 

"Did you come prepared with that?" I gaped at him. 

"No. I took it from your bag." He smirked. 

My bag? Since when did he have the time to go through my bag? I looked at my tied wrists again, trying to wrack my brain as to why I had a long ass strip of- 

'Oh my god.' 

It was the sash to my bridesmaid's dress. I know I hadn't put it in there. The last time I had seen it- Alice. She fucking knew. She had to. She had a vision and didn't even tell me. Granted, if this was a part of her vision, I would be highly embarrassed to hear her explain exactly what she saw. 

"Now." Alec put my hands above my head again, and then trailed his own hands down my arms to my collarbone, thumbing over the mark he had placed on it earlier. "Your hands stay put above your head until I say otherwise. If they do not, I stop. No matter what I am in the middle of." He warned, pausing to make sure that I understood. "Are you okay with this? If not, we can stop." 

I shook my head back and forth frantically. 

"Y/N, I need you need to say it out loud." 

"Yes." I breathed. 

"Good. If you become uncomfortable at any point you are to tell me." 

"Yes sir." It was out of my mouth before I even realized it and I blushed furiously. 

"Are you sure you're a virgin?" He teased. 

"Why don't you find out for yourself?" I teased back, a little breathless. 

Alec's brows raised before he smirked, leaning in closer, mouth right next to my cheek. 

"I think I am going to enjoy this very much." His hands began to make their way past my collar bone to cup my breasts through the fabric of my dress, his thumbs flicking slowly back and forth over my nipples.  

My back arched in a gasp, and he let out a hum, pleased with my reaction. Soon I felt more and more skin being exposed to the cool night air, his cold lips and tongue following right behind it, licking and nipping his way until, aside from my bra, I was fully exposed from the waist up. I blushed as he sat back, admiring the view. 

"You are truly beautiful, mio cara." He breathed.  

His cold hands caressed every inch of exposed skin, purposely avoiding the spots that I wanted him to touch the most. I pouted up at him and he swiped a thumb across my lip. 

"I must admit Y/N, I like seeing you like this. And I think you like it too." 

Slowly, I gave his thumb a long lick before sucking it into mouth. His eyes darkened even further, and I could practically feel the rumble of possessiveness in his chest. 

"Careful, amore." His voice was now husky and strained. 

I released his thumb, edging my teeth along the sides and cocked an eyebrow at him. "I thought you were supposed to be apologizing." 

His eyes were now pitch black. 

"I think you forget who's in control here." 

I let out a squeak as he moved aside and ripped my dress the rest of the way down, leaving me in just my bra and panties. He settled himself between my legs, to nip and kiss his way along the inside of my thighs. 

I sucked in a sharp breath when he placed a kiss right over my covered mound, and then nuzzled into it. My hands jerked and he looked up at me, remaining still. 

"Hands, amore." He chided. 

I immediately put them back in place, wriggling my hips in anticipation. Finally, he slid my panties down, revealing my inner most self, glistening and wet just for him. 

"Perfect." 

It was the only thing I heard before his mouth was on me and my back arched off the bed yet again.  

Keeping perfect eye contact with me, he gave me long slow licks, delving into me with his tongue. And then he found my clit. I couldn't help it, I cried out, my hands immediately coming down to lace themselves through his hair. 

This wasn't an apology; this was fucking torture.  

He paused with a growl. 

"Hands, amore." 

"But- but-" 

He lifted himself up slightly, a warning look in his dark eyes. "Hands." 

"Alec." I whined, wriggling my hips again and trying push him back down. "Please." 

"You know the rules, principessa." 

"Did you just call me princess?" 

He just smirked. "You're learning. Now, hands. If I have to tell you again, I will tie you to the bed." 

'You just may have to do that.' I thought. 

He watched me for a moment more before slowly lowering himself back down, wrapping his arms around my thighs to keep my hips level. He began his slow assault on me yet again and I did my absolute best to keep my arms above my head. It was working so far... barely. 

Before long I could feel a warm heat beginning to build low in my stomach.  

"Oh god, please don't stop." I chanted. "Don't stop. Don't stop. Don't stop." 

I wasn't entirely sure what was happening, all I knew what that it felt good, and he absolutely had to keep going. Otherwise, I was sure I was going to die right then and there. 

And then the bastard stopped. 

"Alec." I let out a low whine. 

He crawled back up to me, placing a kiss on my lips and I groaned at the taste of my arousal on him.  

"No cumming just yet, amore." He swept his tongue along my lips. "The only cumming you will be doing is on my cock." 

I almost choked. "Have- have you always been this dirty?" 

"You have no idea." He bit my earlobe and I squirmed at his words. “And this is only just the beginning.” 

"Well, it looks like won't be doing much of anything, since you're still dressed." 

"That can easily be remedied." 

My eyes widened as he slipped off his shirt. I had always known he was muscular but there was a big difference between feeling it and seeing it. Next came his pants and underwear, and I’m pretty sure my brain stopped working. 

How was that going to fit?? 

"Like what you see?” 

I simply nodded my head, my mind still trying to process the situation I was in... and the fact that his cock was rather... large. 

He leaned over and began untying my hands. I raised a brow at him. 

"I want you clinging to me when you cum." 

Oh fuck. 

My hands immediately went to explore his naked chest when he caught my hand and kissed my fingertips. 

"Are you still okay?"  

"Alec, I swear to God if you don't fuck me-" 

He cut me off, crushing his lips to mine and I suddenly felt him nudging at my entrance. He sat back briefly, rubbing himself in my juices, preparing. 

"Eyes on me, amore." 

I swiftly looked back up at him. I don't think I could have taken my eyes off him in that moment. 

Finally, finally, I felt him enter me ever so slowly. I let out a hiss of pain, my hands clutching desperately at the sheets, and he stopped, letting me adjust for a minute, all the while never breaking eye contact. This, this was something else. I had never felt so full.  

"Fuck, you're tight." 

I let out a whimper. 

"It's okay, mio cara." He kissed away the tears from my face, I hadn't even realized that I was crying. "I'm going to move now." 

And boy did he move. It took a few thrusts before the pain subsided and then I felt as if I was flying. He kept his thrusts steady and deep, his hands roaming my sides before cupping my breasts and placing gently kisses along the edges. And then proceeded to close his mouth on one of my nipples through the lace.  

"Alec." 

He didn't reply, deciding to suck harder and scrape against the sensitive buds with his teeth instead. If he kept this up, I wasn't going to last long, and I think he knew it. He sat up again, but this time he angled my hips up and I was suddenly seeing stars. He was hitting my sweet spot now and I couldn't contain my moans any longer. I could feel it building, and building, and building.  

"Don't you dare stop." I panted. 

"Eyes on me, darling." He ordered, grabbing my face, and making me look him in the eyes. "I want to see the look in your eyes when I make you come on my cock." 

Oh, God. He was speaking to me in Italian, and I didn't have the slightest clue as to what he was saying, but it was hot. 

"Alec, please. Make me cum. I want to come." 

"Fuck, so tight for me." He thrust harder and I could feel the walls of my pussy starting to tighten up. "I want to see you come undone around me." 

"A-Alec!" 

He forced me to look up at him again as I came hard, legs wrapping around his waist as he nearly collapsed on top of me. If I was seeing stars before, now I was suddenly seeing a whole fucking galaxy. 

"Fuck." He kissed me deeply as I felt him spasming inside me, cool liquid coating the walls of my pussy. 

He hovered like that for a long moment, his kisses turning into soft, languid ones, his hands roaming in even softer caresses. Finally, he pulled out of me, and let his eyes wonder over me. I'm sure I looked a mess, but he seemed to like what he saw, judging by the smirk on his face. 

"Come, amore. Let's get you cleaned up." 

"I don't think I can walk." I closed my eyes, doing my best to breathe and not die from great sex. 

"I can definitely help you there." 

I nearly yelped as he lifted me from the bed bridal style. 

"Is this your way of saying you want shower sex?" I wriggled my eyebrows at him. 

"I had not really thought of it, but if you insist." 

I laughed and snuggled into his chest. 

He paused a moment, really looking me over now. "I am truly sorry, Y/N. For everything." 

I placed a hand on his cheek. "Apology accepted." 

NEXT - (Outtake)

{Masterlist}

Translation (Done via Google): Tesoro: Darling/Treasure  Mio Cara: My darling.  Principessa: Princess 

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