#idk why it wasn’t obvious to me until now but my love language is treating people to something

[manqo]

this is so funny i’ve only ever taken my shot at girls i never do shit w boys

[bakugohoex]

Just heard your requests were open! Could I request for an s/o taking care of Bakugo with a fever? Or maybe he’s just sick, whatevers fine with you (´▽`)

”i’m not sick, i always look like this”

pairing: katsuki bakugo x female reader

cw: fluff, language 

word count: 2000+

a/n: idk why it took me so long to write 2k but we move

summary: in which bakugo ends up getting sick, being the loving girlfriend you are you happily look after the angry boy who’s adamant he is not sick

↞ back to my hero academia masterlist

His voice hummed in your ear, it was sweet and soft, the late Sunday morning beaming through the windows. Trying to get out of bed was hassle enough but with the blond boys arms wrapped tightly around your body it became even harder. He was humming something low or was it a grumble. You could never tell but his face rested into your hair with his breath fanning your neck.

You thought it was sweet that was until the hefty cough spewed from his throat. You could almost hear the mucus and congested lungs through that one cough. He had woken up from that cough and his eyes were droopy and dull. The accumulated discharge of skin cells and dirt sitting in the corner of his eyes, but it seemed to make his eyes not open as usual. “Y/n.” His voice was much rougher and filled with all his might.

You didn’t reply, instead putting the back of your hand on his forehead. The burning sensation spread to your hand, he was ill, and he was not happy about it. “You’re gonna have to stay in bed.”

“I’m not staying in bed like a child.” He was grumpy and had tried to get up.

Bringing your hand out you immediately stopped the boy before he could move, “woah, woah, woah, get back into bed.”

“Baby.” He whined but you stayed firm telling him to stop trying to get up. He scowled at you crossing his arms as his head fell back onto the pillow. “At least let me brush my teeth and face.”

You contemplated it and realised that if did that you could get him some food and medicine. “Okay, but I’m helping you up.”

He shuffled to the end of the bed, his hair flat and uneven. “Princess, I’m not some idiot who can’t wa…” The words fell just as he did, he had tried to stand and instead you had caught him, but his weight was a lot heavier than you had ever thought. “I can…can stand.”

He was breathless but put his arm around your shoulder, your hands around his waist as you could see how ill he actually was. The move to the little sink allowed for him to lean against it and run the tap. “I’m going to get you something to eat and some medicine.”

He only hummed through trying to vigorously brush his teeth, he slouched against the sink. Quickly wearing a discarded hoodie and skipping down to the elevator. How had he even got sick was the first think you thoughts about, it wasn’t as if he was out in the cold. That’s when you remembered how Kirishima had made a bet with him to see who could last the longest in the cold the night before. Kirishima had used his quirk to harden and Bakugo let off warm explosions but even then, the two were shivering when they came back in.

Kirishima even taking a hot shower whilst Bakugo just wanted cuddles. The stupid idiot should’ve taken a shower instead of trying to gain warmth from you. “Hey Y/n, where’s Kacchan?” Midoriya asked just as you came out of the elevator.

“He’s sick, I came down to get him some breakfast and medicine.” Midoriya had a distressed face which you quickly calmed down, “I can handle him.”

“If you need any help, just send me a text.” You nodded watching him leave to go on a run, you went through the cabinets thinking of the best thing to make for someone who was sick. With the lack of food and you couldn’t really give him a hot meal, you found some bread putting it in the toaster.

Grabbing two glasses, you put water and salt in one for him gargle and the other some sugary lemon water for his throat. The sound of Kirishima made you jump just as you reached for the toast, “I thought it was too quiet for some reason.”

Laughing at the comment you explain what happened and he helps to get the medicine which you were glad for. Putting everything on a tray, Kirishima deciding to follow you just to see how bad it was and probably make fun of the boy. You both reached the door, the sight of Bakugo leaning against his bed with sweat dripping from his face and a reddened look.

“What took you so long?” He noticed Kirishima and huffed at the sight of Kiri suppressing a laugh. “What do you want?”

“I wanted to see if you were actually ill.”

Bakugo turned to face you a scowl evident through his sorrowful look, “I’m not sick, I always look like this.”

Rolling your eyes at how he was trying to play off the sore throat and dreary look, you put everything to the side and grabbed his hand, “I found this.” Sticking the thermometer into his mouth, he had stopped talking and lied back onto the bed.

“I’ll leave you two.” Kirishima spoke half heartedly chuckling as he closed the door.

Hearing the beeping you saw the temperature and it was obvious your boyfriend would need care to get better. “Gargle this.” You grabbed his arm letting his body weight on you and you passed the salty water. Watching him do it, your sorted his bed out seeing how he was freezing underneath the covers even though it was broiling outside.

He spat it out and turned to face you arms out, “help me.” He knew there was one positive of being ill and that was how you treated him with so much care like a Russian doll ready to shatter.

“Come on baby, lets get you into bed.” He wanted to cuddle with you, but the threat of making you ill was evident, instead he let you do what you wanted. Passing him some food, he bit into the toast noticing you hadn’t brought anything for yourself.

“Where’s your food?” It was a command almost to go and get yourself something, but worry had laced into your thoughts at seeing how he stayed under the sheets with his little fingers popping out with the toast.

Grabbing the drink you went back to face him, “I’ll get some later, open up.” He complied with a groan at the movement taking a sip, he watched your steady hand give him the drink before passing him the tablets. “Swallow two okay.”

“I’m not a child idiot.”

You hummed back at him, “well you sure are acting like one.”

He rolled his eyes, swallowing the two tablets and passing the plate back to you. “Get some sleep, okay? I’m going to shower and wash up.”

“Don’t leave me.” He whined his arms out, he sure was bratty when he was ill.

You watched his normal fury eyes become duller and his face even paler. How could you refuse that, refuse him but you knew you had to at least get changed and eat something. “I’ll send Kirishima in if you want company.”

“I want you.” He muttered; you could hear the shifting of the blankets assuming he had turned to face the wall. You took careful steps towards the bed, stroking his blonde hair, he loved the way you fingers moved through his hair, how comforting it all was. Giving a soft kiss onto his hot skin, he heard you leave and was sad that you had left him.

He had tried to get some sleep, but how could he sleep without you, his girl, his love, his teddy bear. It had probably only been an hour and you had finally done everything, even eaten some food yourself before you brought up some more medicine and a wet cloth for his forehead. The sound of the door opening brought relief hearing you softly say his name.

“I brought some more tablets baby.”

He shifted to meet your gaze, he looked a lot better than he had in the morning but still there was a cold swear present and his throat seemed dry as he spoke. “What took you so long?” His normal angry self would’ve spoke the sentence with a lot more fury, but he sounded like a child who’s mother had left him at the park.

“No need to get pouty, I’m yours for the rest of the day.” You signed passing him the tablets.

“I’m not pouty, it’s anger.”

You grabbed his face with your cold hands, the sweat soaking into your fingers. A bit gross but you didn’t care chuckling at the boy. “Of course it is, sweetheart.”

He hated when you called him sweetheart it was an indicator you were taunting him and if he wasn’t ill, he’d have fucked the mocking behaviour out of you. But all he could do was scowl and swallow the tablets. “Let’s put this here.”

He watched you put the wet cloth across his forehead, the lightness of your fingers grazing his skin sent a sensation through him. “Do you need anything else?” You asked, deciding to go refill him some water that he had finished prior.

“Stay with me.” It was breathless, all Bakugo really wanted was your arms around him. He wanted the comfort of your body on his own, he missed it and being unable to kiss you left him out of love. His physical affection had been cut down and now all he wished for was you by his side.

You debated the statement, before shrugging and putting the water bottle down. He watched as you stripped the hoodie off and lifted the sheets, feeling the warmth of the covers across your now shirtless body. He loved the feeling of his back against your own warm front, it made him a lot more comfortable. Your warmth was always something else and the way your arms wrapped around his body, your knees bending into his own it made him feel on a high.

Your face rested across his back, he had grabbed your hands, lacing his fingers with your own. He knew you’d get sick as well, but he assumed you were missing the affection just as much as he was. He felt the soft warm lips of your own scatter across his skin, if open mouthed kisses could cure illness than your kisses would be able to cure anything in the world. Your hair brushed against his back, you both were silent, it was comfortable and all you really wanted was for the energetic boy to get some rest. His breathing had stopped being as heavy and even the coughs he had had, had gone down, but he was till shivering, it made your next movement become imminent.

Your body fully pressing against his back, if you were a lot bigger it probably would’ve helped a lot better. Bakugo acknowledged what you were doing a short smile came from his lips as he saw how your body felt against his own. He could feel how your bra pressed against his back, how your grasp on his fingers became tighter. You were trying to provide warmth. Trying being the key word as ultimately it just made you become closer to the boy and make him never want you to leave.

After a while he could feel your soft breathing and knew that as soon as your hands laid on him, you’d be out, you were always the one to fall asleep first at any event. It made everybody laugh at how withing half an hour of a movie you were out cold on Bakugo’s arm, or shoulder or even body. He tried to turn without making too much noise but his heavy breathes made it hard.

Once he finally did face your soft body, he watched the strands of hair stick to your skin. The way your mouth let out breaths of warm air, he admired the sight, this time placing a kiss on your temple before holding onto your body. His arms around your waist and your own against his exposed chest. If you were awake you’ve contested it but now with you in his arms Bakugo could finally get some rest.

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[avnkin]

The Bet

Chapter 1 - Surfer Boy

JJ Maybank x Reader

Warnings: foul language, fuckboi!jj, underage drinking ya know the gist 

Word count: 2k

Summary: John B bets JJ that he can’t get kook princess Y/N Y/L/N to fall in love with him and not one to turn down a challenge JJ takes the bet unaware of the repercussions it would have. (I suck at summaries lmao i’m sorry)

(A/N): I wanna make this a series or at least a 2-3 part fic but I also have to write for the pogues and ughhh i’m so overwhelmed idk why I do this to myself,, someone send help. (gif by @rue-bennett​)

series masterlist

“Okay- uhm, Sarah Cameron or Y/N Y/L/N?” John B questioned JJ as they sat at the front of the HMS Pogue enjoying the sun that shone down on the pair of them “easy Y/N” JJ asserted like it was the most obvious thing in the world, John B gave JJ a side eye “seriously, that girl seems so uptight, she needs a dick in her asap” John B chuckled taking another swig of the beer that was placed in his hand.

“You’re not wrong about that” JJ agreed, when John B suddenly had an idea mischievously staring JJ down who only shrugged, his face a question mark “what?” he finally asked glancing up at his best friend “I’ll bet you a hundred dollars that you can’t get her too fall in love with you within a month” John B dared, smugly looking over at JJ knowing he wouldn’t have the patience to be with a girl for more than an hour.

JJ wasn’t one to turn down a challenge, chuckling as his eyes met John B’s brown ones, staring each other down until JJ finally accepted the challenge shaking John B’s hand before saying “you’re on”.

You stared at your reflection in the mirror that stood before you, content with the fourth bikini you had tried on in the last ten minutes. Sarah had called you earlier asking if you wanted to join her and a couple of your other friends down at the beach, you weren’t one to turn down an offer like that so you got dressed before grabbing a bag that contained all the things you could possibly need for a beach day.

You quickly swung your bedroom door open calling out into the empty hallway that you were leaving only getting a small ‘okay’ in response from your dad, you rolled your eyes before making your way downstairs and towards the front door grabbing your car keys you headed towards your car and placed the bag in the passenger seat before starting it and driving down your long driveway towards the main road.

The weather was amazing and you’d spent the entire car ride listening to your ‘summer vibes’ playlist on Spotify belting out the lyrics to every single song as you drove down figure 8 and towards the cut.

When you finally arrived you grabbed your bag out of the passenger seat making your way towards your group of friends who were easy to spot amongst the crowds of people.

Sarah smiled when she saw you patting the empty spot next to her gesturing for you to sit down, you jogged over to them and immediately grabbed your towel and laid it neatly next to Sarah’s, quickly removing the clothes that covered your bikini.

“Damn Y/N, looking good” a sudden voice could be heard from behind you, you quickly turned around seeing JJ Maybank stand before you, he was infamous around these parts, best known for sleeping with girls and never talking to them again, you weren’t going to be one of his conquests, so you scoffed ignoring his flirtatious gestures as you sat down next to Sarah grabbing a white claw from the mini cooler your friend Lisa had brought with her.

This was going to be harder than he thought, JJ quietly spoke to himself eyes focused on your figure, he couldn’t deny it he liked what he saw, you were exactly his type but he knew if he was going to win this bet he couldn’t treat you like one of the many girls he’d been with, he knew you were different.

The weather was especially good today, your skin glistening in the sun rays as it shone down on you, “there’s gonna be a party down here tonight, we should totally go” you heard Sarah’s voice from beside you, you only shrugged not really feeling up to it knowing how those parties usually ended. “I think I’m gonna stay in tonight” you sighed propping yourself up on your elbows “no Y/N you’re not, you never go out with us come on it’ll be fun we can have pre-drinks at my house-” you raised your eyebrow at her cutting her off “come on don’t be such a party pooper” Sarah frowned giving you her best puppy dog eyes, you groaned letting your head fall back onto the towel “fine”.

The night quickly rolled around and you found yourself standing outside Sarah’s house. You took a deep breath before knocking on the door, within seconds Sarah was stood in front of you grabbing your wrist and dragging you behind her into the house.

Music was blasting from Sarah’s bedroom, all of your friends had already arrived and started drinking greeting you with hugs and compliments as you walked in the door, the only one sober was Lisa since she had been assigned driver for the night.

It didn’t take you long to start feeling a bit tipsy after downing a couple of shots, since if you were being honest you were quite the lightweight.

You wore jean shorts that perfectly complimented your figure and a white bandeau top along with your white vans, you were quite content with the girl who stared back at you in the mirror feeling confident about yourself for what felt like the first time in a while.

You were feeling very lightheaded when Sarah asked Lisa to get going wanting to get down to the beach as quickly as possible, maybe drinking so much hadn’t been the brightest idea you had.

“Y/N come on we're leaving” Sarah slurred grabbing your hand and leading you out the front door and into Lisa’s black jeep. Music was playing loudly out of the speakers as you belted along with the lyrics rolling down the window loving the feeling of the wind in your face.

It was a short drive down to the beach which felt even shorter in your intoxicated state and as soon as Lisa parked you immediately got out of the car Sarah trailing behind you as you made your way towards the crowds of drunk teenagers.

You hadn’t been there long when you decided you wanted more alcohol and made your way towards the keg to fill your cup with yet another drink, this isn’t gonna end well you thought downing the liquor in what could only be described as record time. “Didn’t know you had that in you Y/L/N” a familiar voice sounded behind you, you quickly turned around being face to face with the all too familiar Maybank boy.

“Well there’s a lot you don’t know about me” you flirted raising the cup back to your lips, feeling the alcohol coursing through your veins give you a newfound confidence, he chuckled shaking his head as he got closer to you “wouldn’t mind getting to know you better princess” he hummed, his confidence evident in the way he spoke, princess the word fell so graciously from his lips causing your knees to weaken but you quickly composed yourself clearing your throat and stating “in your dreams Maybank”.

“Always” he replied taking one step closer to you, placing both arms onto the keg behind you trapping you between him and it. You felt your breath getting caught in your throat as you looked back up at him lips only inches away from his, in your intoxicated mind this was a dream come true, but your sober self quickly took over, you didn’t feel like getting your heart broken by someone like JJ, not tonight at least.

You pressed your index finger against his chest pushing him away from you, “you really think I’m that easy, huh?” you scoffed biting down on your lip as you made your way past him ignoring his lingering stare as he watched you walk away.

When you were almost out of sight John B came up behind JJ putting a hand on his shoulder “wanna give me my hundred dollars now before you embarrass yourself any further or?” he gloated chuckling at JJ who only gave him a glare in return.

“I’m only getting started, you just wait” JJ assured him eyes lingering on your figure as he watched you dance with one of your many friends he didn’t know the name of, “whatever you say big man” John B chuckled ruffling JJ’s hair before going back to Pope and Kiara who sat in a circle around the bonfire.

“Care to dance?” his voice could be heard again from behind you, you rolled your eyes “you never give up do you?” you challenged turning to face him “not my style princess” he smirked knowing exactly what he was doing “stop calling me that” you really hated being one of those girls boys thought they could treat however they wanted and you knew JJ was only trying to sleep with you and you weren’t going to be one of the many girls he played, having more respect for yourself than that.

“Listen JJ I’m not interested in sleeping with you so if that’s the only thing you’re trying to do go find someone else” you spoke bluntly, JJ feigned being offended at your words as his hand went up to his heart “wow Y/N I’m hurt that you would think so lowly of me”

“seriously? with your reputation?” you scoffed raising an eyebrow at the boy who stood in front of you “didn’t realize I had a reputation sweetheart, but I’m flattered that you’ve heard of me” you rolled your eyes turning to walk away from him, but before you could he grabbed your wrist preventing you from moving any further.

“Seriously Y/N I really do like you- I’m sorry if I’m coming off as an ass I’ve just- I don’t know never felt this way about a girl before, I want to get to know you” the lie fell so perfectly from his lips, his eyes stuck on yours not breaking eye contact once as to sell the lie even more.

You were surprised at his words you’d never talked to him before and now he was saying he liked you? it didn’t make any sense. “Come on Y/N one date, that’s all I’m asking and if you still think I’m an ass after that I’ll never bother you again alright?” he pleaded. You were tempted at his words, he seemed sincere, his brows contorting as he stared at you hopefully.

“Alright one date, that’s it” he felt a boost in pride, your words feeding into his ego, but he was careful not to show it smiling innocently at you as he took his phone out so you could put your contact information into it.

“Better not make me regret this” you warned handing him his phone back “I promise you, I won’t” he smiled turning to walk away, blowing you a kiss causing a small chuckle to slip past your lips, maybe he wasn’t as bad as people had told you.

JJ walked towards John B, his head held high as he threw him his phone with your contact information open “no fucking way” John B stated in disbelieve staring down at the number with your name above it “told you I could do it man” JJ chuckled sitting down beside him opposite Kie and Pope.

“Do what?” Kie asked taking a sudden interest in JJ’s radiating confidence “It’s nothing me and JB just have a little bet going on” JJ smirked grabbing the phone out of John B’s hand, “whatever” Kiara waved him off turning back to Pope.

JJ felt a hint of guilt as his eyes met yours and a blush crept onto your cheeks, your eyes quickly diverting from his and back to Sarah’s, only a hint though.

next part

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[comfyswitcherblanketfort]

dearest comfy <3 what if Triss was a blacksmith AND Eskel was a blacksmith??? What then?? Enemies to lovers maybe? <3

Ellie. I love you. I love this prompt. And I love Trisskel. This is a triple threat of wonderfulness. Hopefully the fic delivers 💖💖

Warnings: no violence, some hostile Triss (mostly internal), lmao is this considered idiot and exasperated to lovers? idk you tell me, its pretty chill tbh, unless you don’t like daggers. there's lots of daggers. 

_____________________

Triss was furious. 

She had spent her whole life stoking a furnace, shadowing her father, sweating, suffering burn after burn and later cut after searing cut as she learned to forge all sorts of weaponry. Now, this teddy bear-shaped child was setting up shop in her courtyard?! Unacceptable. Unbelievable! She’d staked a claim on her territory for market day early. So early she hadn’t even made her first blade. Her father still had her hammering out decorative discs and fastenings for armor. 

One of her customers had the audacity to call him ‘cute’ to her face.

He was no more than twenty-five, tall and stocky like most people expected of a blacksmith, but they claimed there was a softness about him. Triss remembered that softness well, before loss and responsibility really set in. What others saw as sweet, boyish charm she saw as a weakness. 

She sent her assistant to assess his booth, maybe flirt and ask some questions, and was even more annoyed when they came back. 

“He’s young but he’s not inexperienced. His blades are good. So is his uh… customer service.” 

Triss rolled her eyes, “What kind of weapons was he selling? I don’t care about his looks. I have breasts.”

Her assistant shrugged and described his table. 

That following week she put in double the hours at her workshop, put the extra flourish on every piece, perfected every detail until her arms ached and her head pounded. She often forgot to drink water, let alone eat, when she got worked up, so her assistant brought her meals. 

When the next market day came, she proudly displayed her new wares.

And if she took her hair out of the usual braids and unbuttoned her blouse a bit lower than last week, who would be brave enough to point it out?

This time the newcomer had the gaul to visit her booth. 

“Good morning, Miss Merigold,” he dipped in a bow of respect before she even turned around to greet him, straightening up and disarming her with a lopsided grin, “My apologies, I meant to introduce myself after last week’s market. But you were far more efficient at break-down than I.” 

She wouldn’t have called him cute by a long shot. He was downright handsome.

Then she remembered they were rivals. There would be no fraternizing with the enemy.  

It took her a moment to gather her wits before she responded, “Good morning. To whom do I owe the pleasure?”

She knew. 

Of course she knew. But he was far better looking than she had assumed, his scars only adding to his alluring presence, and she needed to feel like she had the upper hand. 

His smile grew a bit sheepish, “Eskel of the Blue Mountains. I’m your new neighbor… sort of,” he offered his hand over her table and she took it, hoping her hesitation wasn’t too obvious. 

“Welcome. I hope the city is treating you well?” 

“Well enough,” he acquiesced, letting go of her hand after a moment, “To be truthful, I haven’t left my forge much at all. I’m still getting used to her. But you know how that goes.” 

Triss raised her eyebrows and plastered an over-polite smile on her face, “I must say I wouldn’t. I inherited my forge from my father. I learned with her. We get along quite well.” 

Eskel was called by someone from his booth as he made to speak. He waved at them to wait a moment and turned back to Triss with a wink, “Well if you have any relationship advice, let me know.”

Before she could think of a polite but not too friendly response, he was gone. 

She turned back to her assistant in a huff, “He’s infuriating.” 

“He’s dreamy.”

“Hush,” she snapped, pointing to her sketch pad, “Hand me that. Call for me if there’s a large sale or a problem.”

She sketched and planned half the day away. But when she realized how much the materials for her plans would cost she adjusted her cleavage and left her tent. Someone had to drive the hard bargain around here, and she knew her assistant was too kind. 

The next week she arrived with a beautiful set of delicate-looking throwing knives, a few different ornate daggers, and a sword fit for a king alongside her typical, practical items. However, she was seeing more than just her flowing hilt designs inlaid with etchings. 

Eskel seemed to have had a similar idea.

She wandered past his booth, pretending to buy fabric from the stall next to him, and fumed. It seemed Eskel had a sharper eye than she’d anticipated. He very clearly mimicked her setup and emphasized the smaller wares like she did. He even had the same sign in three different languages about customizations and bulk orders.

This had become all out war. 

When her sword sold that day she decided to finish off the dozen or so she had laying in wait for specific orders over the week. She even detailed a breastplate to match for three of them, guessing at the size in reference to the sword as best she could. As she worked she mulled over her new competition. His soft golden eyes that crinkled ever so slightly when he smiled were absolutely aggravating. At least that’s what she told herself. It was simply her competitive nature that had her fixating on this mountain of a man. 

She returned the next week with a spread so large she could barely fit it on her table.

Eskel had come back with daggers inlaid with precious stones of dazzling pale blue and sparkling greys and whites. Blue Mountains indeed.

Polite customers started mumbling comparisons to themselves while the brash ones outwardly used the other stall to barter a better price. Every time Eskel was mentioned Triss would bristle, hold back a snarl, and turn on every bit of innocent charm she had. 

She began leaving with a lighter cart and a challenging wink from her competition. Over the week she worked her fingers to the bone over fine details and getting the balance absolutely perfect. 

After months of competition, months of uncomfortable eye contact, she finally broke when he sold a matching helmet, breastplate, and dagger to one of her most loyal customers. 

“Eskel. We need to have a word,” she marched right up to his tent, hands tucked into her half apron at her waist. 

He smirked, “That all?”

She glared at him, crossing her arms over her chest, “We can’t keep making the same things.”

“Pretty daggers and ceremonial armor? Why not?” he mimicked her, folding his massive arms over his own chest, leaning back against his table, making him just a little bit taller than Triss rather than the usual towering over her. 

She rolled her eyes and stepped a little closer, “We’ve both done well, or I’m assuming you have, but eventually all the nobility this side of the canal will have been sold to. We’ll have saturated the market and be left with an armory full of ornate weaponry with no one to buy it.”

“Preserving the market means one gets to keep said market.”

Triss nodded but Eskel seemed unimpressed. 

“And how would you suggest we settle who keeps it?” he raised an eyebrow at her and she just wanted to smack the smug look off his face. Or kiss it. She really wasn’t sure anymore. 

She scrambled for a moment, not having entirely thought this through, “A competition.”

He stood to full height and sighed, “What are the terms?”

“One dagger. Same price. Whoever sells first gets the market. The other has to branch out or move.”

Eskel nodded and held his hand out, “Agreed.”

Triss went to take his hand but he gripped her forearm, his whole hand covering much of her elbow. She did her best not to think about how strong his arm felt in her grasp, how when she squeezed she felt a gentle give before she hit muscle. 

He winked at her as he released his grasp and turned back to work, “See you next week Merigold.” 

Triss worked on a single dagger all week. 

She couldn’t get Eskel’s stupid cocky smile or his tanned arms out of her head. The way he looked down at her with that condescending smile enraged her. Her assistant claimed he looked more fond than condescending, but Triss only narrowed her eyes and shook her head. She’d been raised in the marketplace. She knew exactly how men viewed her. 

In the end, her dagger looked very fitting for a man like him. Broad, sturdy, a bit curved at the tip, and simply yet elegantly decorated. She cooled it in a liquid mixture her father had made and kept secret, giving the blade a finish similar to copper, but with all the strength of steel. 

If she noticed the coincidence she stubbornly ignored it. 

Eskel was already set up and waiting when she arrived at the market. She spared him only a curt nod while she set up her booth as if preparing for battle. 

He sauntered over to her before dawn had officially broken, blade in hand with what Triss might guess to be a nervous expression. 

“Good morning, Merigold,” he cleared his throat and set the dagger currently wrapped in cloth on the table between them, “What have you for our little competition?” 

Triss proudly pulled the dagger she had made from her case, handing it over by the hilt as she spoke, “Good morning, Eskel.”

He took the blade and hummed as he inspected it, whispering, “It’s beautiful...”

She wasn’t prepared for such a genuine compliment. Nor was she prepared for how much she loved hearing that word fall from his lips.

“Th-thank you.”

Eskel handed it back before unwrapping his.

Triss almost had to catch her breath. It was gorgeous, gracefully curved, a turquoise stone grip bordered by an ornate handguard. The part that really got her though was the engraving on the blade. She stepped out and around the table to catch more of the sunlight to see what it was and gasped. Little jasmine flowers were etched into the flat of the blade. 

She looked up at him in awe, “Why jasmine?”

He gave her a crooked smile, rubbing the back of his neck, “You, ahm- your perfume. It is jasmine right?” 

She tilted her head and really looked at him since the first time she met him, “You noticed my perfume?”

“It’s nice,” he shrugged, stuffing his hands in his leather apron pockets. 

Triss thought about all the winks and the ‘good mornings’ and compliments. She’d thought they were just to get her buttered up, but maybe she’d been a little harsher than she needed to.

“It’s stunning,” she breathed, reaching up on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek, not wanting to pull away from his warmth when she had to. 

They were interrupted by her assistant and set a price quickly before scurrying back to their tents. 

All day they would glance toward the other’s booth, but Triss was no longer checking his table. She was looking for him. His kind smile and boisterous laugh. His easy charm and especially his humility under pressure. 

All day she struggled with the realization that she was just a little bit in love with her competition. 

Nearing sundown she told her assistant to begin cleaning up and grabbed her coin purse before marching over to his stand once again. 

“Did you sell it?” Eskel looked disappointed and she was surprised to be glad to tell him no. 

“I have two things to say and I will only say them once, so listen carefully. I realize I’ve been unduly cold to you and I want to apologize. You’ve proven that you’re not only a skilled craftsman but seem to be a good man as well and you don’t deserve it. “

“Apology accepted,” Eskel grinned, leaning back on his table as he waited for her next item.

“Thank you. Now, I’d like to buy the dagger. The one with the jasmines.”

Eskel frowned, “You- you’re forfeiting?”

Triss bit her lip and forced herself to look him in his honey gold eyes, “Yes. Though I hope we can both agree to stay where we are? I think I might miss you if you leave.”

He grinned and pushed off the table, standing just inches from Triss now that he was upright. His hand hesitantly brushed a stray curl out of her eyes as he leaned closer, hesitating to give her time to leave if she wanted, before he brushed his lips against hers. She melted into him, wrapping her arms around his neck as they kissed. His hands covered her back, pressing her to him and nearly lifting her off her feet. 

When they parted they were gasping for breath they both wished they didn't need.

“What about a trade and a truce?” 

Triss nodded, standing up on her tiptoes to plant another kiss on his lips, “And dinner.”

Eskel chuckled, “I think that’s perfectly reasonable.” 

[olivinesea]

Oooh fun! Okay, do you have any headcannons or thoughts on a dyslexic Hotch? I feel like I never see dyslexia with any characters really, and I like the idea of him with it. And if you do and you want to write something about it, a dyslexic Hotch with the team (and them being the supportive and protective family they are?) Thank you! ❤️

I hope you have fun, wherever/whatever you’re doing!!

I love this so much!! Thank you :) okay I don’t have much personal experience with dyslexia so hopefully I get this decently accurate. The biggest thing that surprised me when I was doing a quick search is that it isn’t actually a matter of reading words or letters backwards? It’s more an inability to connect letters to the appropriate sounds or to break words up into component parts; a general phonological awareness struggle.

So, as with many things, it seems to me to be a matter of slowing down, learning at your own pace. This ties in nicely with so many of my other Hotch thoughts, I don’t know why I hadn’t thought of it before. Idk what this is, it’s neither headcanon nor proper story but hopefully it’s something like what you were looking for:

When he’s a kid he gets called a slow learner due to his undiagnosed dyslexia. It was much less common to get that kind of diagnosis back then in general and I am sure his dad would have hated the idea of his son needing any kind of extra help. So he’s slow to speak, slow to learn how to read, has difficulty with numbers, absolutely hates being called on to read out loud because it’s actual torture and the other kids have no hesitation about laughing at him. So he becomes withdrawn, labeled a “bad kid,” stops trying because, fuck it, he never gets any kind of support, who cares right? It’s always a fight at home, he starts hiding his work, lying about his grades. This works for awhile bc his parents are distracted by other things. His problems are much bigger than grades by the time they do notice.

However, while he hates school and the way people talk about him and his struggles, like he isn’t even there, he discovers that he doesn’t hate learning. There’s a small library in town where he found he could hide out, no one bothering him for hours if he just sat still for with a book open. He was good at sitting still, at being invisible. But eventually a librarian notices that he’s always got the same book open, some sort of technical manual, that he is rarely turning the pages. She asks him if he likes what he’s reading. He’s just alarmed to be spoken to, afraid that being noticed means he will soon no longer have this sanctuary. He nods and tries to bluff his way through but it’s obvious he hasn’t read it, despite having looked at it for weeks straight. The librarian doesn’t say anything outright, just lets him be for now.

Next time she sees him she brings him a different book, a collection of Grimms fairy tales. He wants to complain that it’s for little kids but is too nervous to refuse it. She asks if she can read him her favorite story from it. It’s dark and twisted and fantastical and he can’t help but be drawn in by it. He’s sad when she’s done reading, wants to hear it again, to capture all the details to replay to himself later. She shows him where it starts, encourages him to read it himself. He doesn’t look at her bc he doesn’t want her to see how upset he is by that, already frustrated by the anticipation that he won’t be able to get through it. But she stays with him, helping him where he gets stuck, asking him questions about the story, making sure it’s making sense to him.

They slowly work their way through the whole collection over the course of months. They spend days on each story, repeating it until he’s confident, she never makes him feel like he’s taking too long or wasting her time. Sometimes has to reread a section multiple times, gets hung up on the language rather than the story but it’s okay, she gives him a notebook to copy down parts that spin too loudly in his mind, saving them and also releasing him from their hold so he can move forward. She lets him keep the book, tells him it was too old to stay in circulation anyway, they had a new copy on order already. She’s the first person who was patient with him, that showed him he could do it, he just needed a little more time, a little more practice than other kids.

In college this is part of why he spends so much time at the library. Part of it is his natural inclination to overwork himself, push until he’s given more than he can in hopes that it might be almost enough. He knows he’s never been enough, why would that change just because he’s in a new place? But the other part is he simply needs more time to get through the coursework, to make it through the excessive amounts of reading he’s assigned. Some other students don’t even bother to read but he would never do that, he makes sure that he not only reads every chapter assigned but he reads it again, takes notes, highlights, annotates, does everything in his power to be prepared. Sure he might work himself to the point of exhaustion, to the point where he makes himself sick (though he’ll try to deny that too) but he’s never caught trying to read something while others wait for his answer, the letters and sounds meaningless, slipping away from him faster the more eyes he feels turn towards him, wondering what could be taking so long. No one ever gets the chance to laugh at him for being slow in college, he never allows them to see that side of him.

As an adult, the leader of the BAU, he’s too well respected for anyone to dare laugh at him but he still hates feeling unprepared. This ends up looking like long nights in the office, reviewing case files to the point of memorization, so that he won’t have to read any of it in front of his team. He can if he has to, he’s developed skills over the years, ways to calm the panic that only makes it harder, can fake it well enough that no one would really notice. Until one day, distracted by a migraine and the fallout of some fight with Haley, he gets stuck. He can’t remember something and he tries to read the sentence that has the information but the stupid word just won’t resolve into sounds that make sense and he just stops talking. He’s glaring at the form like it might catch fire. No one says anything for a moment while he tries to refocus, tries to work around echoes of laughter, decades long past but always ready to jump out at him if he lets his guard down, allows a mistake, a tired moment to derail the image of perfect competence that he’s built around himself. Penelope jumps in, finishing the thought, completing the list of traits shared by the victims. He forces himself to smile at her because he really is grateful, it wasn���t her fault. She scrunches her nose at him, dismissing his silent thanks with a toss of her head. It was nothing, everyone needs a little assist now and then.

No one brings it up and he doubles his efforts not to let anyone see. But he’s so tired on the plane coming back from a case, he’s been staring the same forms for an hour at least. He can feel his ears turning red with frustration. There’s really no reason he has to do this now but the fact that his mind is refusing, almost seems to be teasing him, makes him dig in harder. Emily sits down opposite him, pulling the folder away without asking. He’s about to say something sharp, something he’ll regret saying to her when he really means it for himself, but the expression on her face is so odd, smiling with a frown between her eyebrows. It isn’t pity, she respects him far too much, but there is curiosity and something else, something soft.

“Drink with me.” She slides him a glass and they don’t talk, just look out the window, look at the light playing off the ice in their glasses. He doesn’t see the file again until it appears on his desk, every form neatly filled out, the places needing his signature flagged. All but the last spot, where she’s signed his name eerily perfectly, difficult for even him to see that it’s not his own. Just so he knows she can if she wants to. Equal parts offer and threat.

Penelope and Reid start a book club. Derek joins right away. Emily rolls her eyes when she’s invited, muttering something about spending her free time on more work but they know she will join. Rossi flat out refuses to read the books but offers his house for meetings. Hotch hesitates, wanting to say yes but nervous to commit to an activity like that. He loves books, loves to talk about books. He doesn’t love a time limit on books.

The next time they have to drive to a case, Derek puts on a copy of the audiobook. It’s the first time they make it to a destination without any bickering from the backseat. They don’t get through the whole thing but later he finds a copy of the audiobook on his desk, complete with a disc player and headphones.

A different month, Reid tells him about how his mother always used to read him books and somehow finesses an offer to read to Hotch without him even realizing he’s accepted it. So Spencer comes in to Hotch’s office on lunch breaks occasionally and reads to him whatever the book of the month is. He loves it, remembering the first person who read to him, how shocked he’d been to be treated with patience, with understanding and wondering how he got so lucky to be surrounded by people like her, so ready to support him, wanting him there with them rather than off alone, uselessly fighting with himself to prove his self sufficiency over some uncooperative letters.

Okay, that was so much more than I was planning on but here we are. I hope you liked it and thank you SO much for the idea. If you ever have any others you want to share I am totally here for it. :)

Send me requests!

[acciofanfics]

Spell It Out (Oliver Wood x Reader)

Request: could you do an oliver wood x female reader where they’re like friends and she’s really little (like thin and short and she’s insecure abt it by the thinks it’s cute) so he’s like kinda protective over her but she’s oblivious and idk maybe like he gets jealous or something (?) idk u can make the plot but they get together in the end and maybe it’s a lil steamy (?) thanks sm!!! i love ur writing 🥺

Pairing: Oliver Wood x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Heavily implied smut and maybe language? I’ll say language to be safe.

Word Count: 1652

A/N: I hope this is what you wanted! I really struggled with thinking I wrote Oliver too OOC. That being said... I apologize if this is too OOC >.< As always here’s a reminder that requests are still open! - S 

__________________________________________

Oliver Wood took quidditch quite serious, and would never fault anyone else for doing so. His chest swelled with pride when he found his team already on the pitch practicing, before their scheduled time. Maybe it was that they’d be playing Slytherin next week that had them finally taking the game as seriously as he did (they were Gryffindor’s biggest rival). His chest deflated when he saw (Y/N) playing keeper. How could they let her play?!

It wasn’t that he didn’t like (Y/N), they were good friends. Fred and George often said it was quite obvious he fancied her. Maybe, that’s why he had such a problem with it, quidditch could be a dangerous game! Of course it wasn’t against the rules for students not on the quidditch team to play around on the pitch and fly, but it should’ve been... at least for her. His first game on the team he took a Bludger to the head 2 minutes in and was out for a week!

Oliver found himself just watching for a bit; annoyed but distracted, he was fond of her smile and the wind catching her hair. Well, he was fond of it until Fred was hovering beside her, both laughing as her smile grew. Oliver couldn’t hear what they were saying so he had to make it up in his head and he was irritated that Fred had the nerve to suggest such. Oliver was quite glad he heard George yell and break his trance, “MUM’S HERE NO MORE FUN AND GAMES!”

Oliver tried to seem normal, as they all settled down and got ready for practice. He brushed off a friendly greeting from (Y/N) and tried to ignore the thoughts of her all together while she put the broom away. It wasn’t going to be the easiest task, given the fact that she usually settled in the stands to watch them practice.

It was a brutal practice... he had the tendency to do that: take out his frustrations on the pitch. It was pretty obvious that he was having an off day, but the team knew it was best to just suffer through it and hope next practice he would be in a better mood. Poor Fred seemed to get the brunt of the abuse.

(Y/N) was a bit concerned. It’d been awhile since she’d seen Oliver work himself and them this hard and that was after a particularly hard run in with Marcus Flint. (Y/N) just worked on her potions homework and waited for practice to end. It ran longer than usual, and her worry only grew when she didn’t see Oliver exit the locker room with the rest of the guys. She waited a few minutes before deciding to just walk right in.

“Oliver, you still in here?”

Oliver’s eyes widened at her intrusion, he’d just gotten out of the showers and wore only a towel around his waist, “Bloody hell, (Y/N)! Just barge right on in, will ya?”

She rolled her eyes at his tone. “What’s wrong with you today?”

He thought about responding with a simple: nothing, but they knew each other too well for that. It wouldn’t work. “Why were you out there playing today?”

“Is that what you’re mad about? We were just messing around, practice hadn’t even started yet. It was just a warm up.”

“Yeah, but you shouldn’t have been warming up with them.” Oliver approached her and as he sized her up, he really didn’t feel like he was being silly. She stood a good head or two (maybe three) shorter than him, and all around the girl was just tiny. A good gust of wind could’ve knocked her right off that broom, “You could’ve gotten hurt.”

(Y/N) was used to this, but that didn’t make it any less frustrating. She wasn’t a child, even though everyone seemed to think she was. It was rather disheartening actually to be treated like this by him... she wondered if she was a bit taller and a little more filled out if this was the conversation they’d be having while he stood before her basically naked. “Oh, sorry. I thought something was actually wrong, I wouldn’t have bothered had I known you were just being a git. It’s not different than you playing! You could get hurt, in fact out of the 2 of us you’re the one with more quidditch related injuries.”

Oliver ignored her, they wouldn’t reach an agreement on the subject anyhow. He decided to go in on something else bothering him, “What are you doing here anyways? I figured you’d be back in the common room with Fred or whatever.”

Fred? He was two years younger than her (granted you definitely wouldn’t realize that by looking at them) and sure he flirted with her. It was Fred, he was flirty and goofy. It was the boy’s personality and had nothing to do with anything. “Honestly, Oliver you are too much sometimes! You’re going to act like I’m a child and then turn around and act jealous in the same breath?”

Did she really think he viewed her as a child? That wasn’t it at all. Maybe he needed to get over himself and finally come clean. “I don’t look at you like you’re a kid... and you call me thick.”

“Okay,” Sarcasm dripped from her tongue, “You act like I can’t do anything for myself, you’re mean to any guy that pays me any mind, you hardly let me carry my books for myself!”

“And there’s no other explanation for that?” Oliver’s eyes widened in disbelief when she didn’t speak up. He’d called her thick as a joke, but maybe... “Oi! Just make me spell it out, why don’t you? I fancy you, (Y/N)!”

Oliver Wood just confessed attraction to her. Was it some sort of joke? (Y/N) obviously had a crush on him, plenty of girls in their year did. She felt a little silly for being so oblivious, but most guys adopted her as a little sister of sorts. She’d had a few boyfriends here and there, but it wasn’t like they were lining up for her. And there she stood shocked and confused, “If this is a joke it’s not very funny.”

Oliver chuckled at the girl, she was still there so that must’ve been a good sign. “I’m not joking.”

“Why would fancy me? You guys said I looked like a first year yesterday.” She crossed her arms. Of course she wanted Oliver to like her, but something didn’t seem to add up.

“That one was a joke! And I didn’t say anything I just laughed,” He defended himself, but he supposed that didn’t make him sound much better. “I like your size... I think it’s cute.”

Honestly, (Y/N) had grown tired of being called ‘cute’, but she didn’t mind it that much when he said it. There was only one logical response to this in her mind (although there probably were a few more ways in all actuality). She grabbed his hand and pulled him closer to one of the benches where she promptly stood on top of one. Oliver smiled a bit, catching onto her plan, "You know you could've just asked me and I would-"

(Y/N) cut him off, he was being annoying anyhow. Her lips crashed against his and Oliver immediately a wave of relief crash over him. The doubt that had still lingered in his mind was long gone and all that he could focus on was what happening. He'd held the desire to kiss the girl in front of him for so long and now that he could feel her lips against his, he didn't want to feel anything else.

(Y/N) placed her hands on his chest, firm and still damp (up until that moment she'd somehow forgotten about the lack of clothing he was wearing). She knew this was highly inapproptiate and if McGonagall had any idea what her two students were currently up to she'd have their heads.... or at least a month of detention and quite a few house points. Call it teenage rebellion or maybe just lust, but it only fueled the desire to keep going. Oliver felt the same and pulled her flush against him, his hands felt so large against her clothed body that she shuddered to think what they might feel like against her skin.

For a first kiss, it was quite efficient, their mouths moved in tandom like they like dance partners that had been working together for years. Before she even really aware of what she was doing, (Y/N) found herself shedding her clothes (Oliver helping her out), it wasn't long at all before she'd practically caught up with the boy. She stood before him in nothing but her knickers, and perhaps she might've felt a little embarrassed baring herself in front of one of her closest friends, but Oliver didn't give her much of chance to even think those silly thoughts before his hands and lips were exploring her body.

How they’d gone all this time without each other seemed like a mystery that couldn’t be solved at the moment. Oliver lifted her up, a task easily accomplished given her stature and his training, and instinctively (Y/N) wrapped herself around searching for stability that she easily found. She arched herself into him involuntarily when her back hit the cold wall; the action earning a groan from Oliver.

Fred and George waited and watched from behind the stands. When (Y/N) and Oliver both exited the locker room hand in hand and foolish grins on their faces, their faces lit up. Oh the material they’d have to torment them! Honestly they hoped the couple wouldn’t even bother trying to deny it, they didn’t seem to bother trying to cover it up, or at least the twins assumed by the state of their hair. “Georgie, you owe me a galleon!”

[mcwriting]

The Marriage Project (5)

Happy Halloween! This chapter isn’t spooky, but I hope you still enjoy! If you haven’t read my Halloween one shot from a couple weeks back, go check it out!

Story Masterlist

Word Count: 3727 (a long boi just for y’all)

Warnings: Brief discussion of harassment and injuries, but nothing explicit; some strong language

% Approximately the end of the 1st week of October %

You entered school early the next morning to find everyone chattering in the halls, many of them looking and even pointing as you passed by.

Well that’s… unusual.

You were at your locker when Alexis popped up beside you.

“Did you hear? Tom got kicked out of football practice this morning and he’s suspended! He’s not allowed to play in tomorrow’s game either!”

You slammed the metal door shut.

“What!?”

“Yeah! Something about him beating up some of the other players after school. Serves him right for being such a dick all these years.”

“No it doesn’t. Not this time.”

“What are you talking about, y/n? Aren’t you happy to see his demise? This is the revenge you’ve been waiting for!”

“Alexis, you don’t understand. Tom beat those guys up because they were catcalling me yesterday. He was sticking up for me.” 

You ran a hand through your hair and noticed Harrison and his goons down the hall flexing. “I need to go to the principal. It’s them who should be suspended, not him.”

“Okay, well, do you need me to come with you for moral support? I know how Mrs. Johnson can be,” Alexis offered. 

“No, it’s okay. I’m the one in the middle of this. Just go to class and let me know what other people are saying.”

With that, you headed to the office, shooting a death glare into the bruised faces of Harrison’s laughing crew as you passed by, trying not to make it obvious what you were doing.

When you entered, the secretary looked up at you and smiled.

“Oh, Miss y/l/n. What brings you in here this morning?”

“I really need to talk to Mrs. Johnson, as soon as possible.”

“Oh. Okay then. Is everything alright?”

“No. That’s what I need to talk to her about.”

“Alright then. I’ll go see if she’s available.”

She got up and disappeared for a few minutes, then popped back out.

“She’s okay to see you whenever you’re ready,” she said, sitting back down at her desk.

“Thanks,” you said passively as you stood up and entered the office, shutting the door behind you. You stood still, not sure if you should sit down yet.

“Well, good morning, y/n. What brings you into my office today? Don’t see you in here much,” she smiled, looking back down at a few papers on her desk. 

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, tapping a hand on your thigh anxiously.

“What’s wrong, y/n? You look nervous. You have nothing to be afraid of.”

You looked down and then finally spit it out.

“It’s about Tom. He didn’t do anything wrong yesterday after school.”

You sat down in front of the principal as she looked up at you.

“I’m sorry, what? Now, I don’t know what you’ve heard but he started a fight in the parking lot. That’s wrong in my book.”

You looked at your lap, playing with the plastic ring you’d continued to wear since late August.

“He only did it because the other guys were harassing me yesterday. They were catcalling and whistling and he was trying to stick up for me. It’s the other guys that should be in trouble, not him.”

“Are you sure you’re not just saying that to protect him? I know you two are friends.”

“With all due respect, Mrs. Johnson, we have always been enemies. We may seem like friends because of that marriage project thing but… I would never lie about any harassment for Tom Holland or anyone else. If those three guys had gone after me… I mean, I’m strong, but, I’m not that strong. I’m thankful for what Tom did for me, and I know he’d do it again for any woman.”

Mrs. Johnson looked at you for a few moments, then nodded her head.

“Okay, well. I’ll have a chat with Tom and the other boys and see what I can do. Thank you for being willing to come to me. Is there anything else you want to talk to me about?”

“No, no. It’s okay. I’ve dealt with this before and probably will again. I just really needed you to know that Tom doesn’t deserve to be in trouble while the others are walking around free.”

She nodded. 

“Like I said, thank you for letting me know, and I’ll see what I can do.”

You got up to leave. Your hand was on the doorknob when she said one last thing.

“You know, I wish I was more like you. The same thing used to happen to me when I was your age. I’m glad you actually had the guts to say something about it.”

You parted your lips to speak, but instead gave a tight-lipped smile and a quick nod. With that, you were out the door.

%

You sat in honors english next to Alexis, a pit in your stomach.

People kept looking at you, which was weird, but you figured it was because Tom wasn’t there for you to have typical banter.

You worried about Tom a lot, and hoped that Mrs. Johnson’s parting words meant she really cared about what you said. You decided to shoot him a text.

Hey. Idk if you’ve heard anything, but I went and told Mrs. Johnson that you were just trying to stick up for me, and mentioned that we’re enemies or whatever. She was gonna look into the other guys getting in trouble. Sorry.

By the time lunch rolled around, you were getting tired of the eyes on you. Usually you loved the attention, but something about it felt different today.

“What is everyone’s problem?” you finally asked Alexis and the rest of your friend group before biting into a carrot. “It’s like they’re all looking at me more than the normal amount.”

“Well… it’s probably because they are,” one friend said.

“And why is that? Like duh Tom’s not here. Big whoop. We’ve both missed school before.”

Alexis looked at you sheepishly.

“Lex, what are you not telling me?” you interrogated.

“Welllll… it might have something to do with someone spilling that Tom and you were seen hugging last night after your game, and now Harrison is using it to say Tom beat him up because he loves you or something.”

“I swear I’m going to kill that bitch ass.” you replied back, looking around the room. 

After a quick scan, it’s obvious that he and the other guys aren’t there. A sly smile rose to your face. 

Maybe Mrs. Johnson was on your side after all, and hopefully she’d see past any lies Harrison might tell her.

%

Tom was sitting in Mrs. Johnson’s office, flanked by his parents.

“Miss y/l/n explained to me that the boys you got in a fight with were harassing her. Is this true?”

“Yes, ma’am. I sat there and watched it happen and didn’t didn’t do anything about it, but then she called me out and I realized how disgusting it was, what they did.”

“Hm. And you found the best course of action to be punching Mr. Osterfield instead of coming to the administration?”

“I know what I did was wrong, but I didn’t want to tell her story for her. If she wanted to come out and say what happened then that’s her choice, but I couldn’t sit back and let them get away with it. I feel that it’s my responsibility to keep both my teammates and fellow men accountable.”

The principal looked at Tom for a few moments as she contemplated.

“Well, she came to me this morning and asked that I review your suspension. I also talked to the other boys and they admitted to saying a few graphic things to her. I just need to ask you one more thing: if this had happened to any other girl, would you have still gone after those boys?”

“In a heartbeat, Mrs. Johnson. I just think of what would happen if it were my mom, or a relative, or my future wife. No woman deserves to be treated that way.”

She nodded slowly, then shuffled some papers on her desk.

“Well, Tom. What you did was wrong, but I can tell that you know that. I’ll also say that you were doing it for a noble cause. It takes a lot to go up against three athletes and you didn’t come out unscathed. Since this is your only offense, I’m ending your suspension after today. You may go back to class tomorrow and play in the football game, but this suspension is staying on your record for now. If you don’t get into any more trouble by the end of the semester, I’ll take it off and you’ll be put back into the running for valedictorian.”

“Thank you! Thank you so, so much, Mrs. Johnson, you won’t regret it.”

She chuckled at his earnestness.

“Yes, well. You’re a good kid, Tom,” she looked to his parents. “And you two have raised an incredible young man. I’m pretty sure if there had been more people like Tom and y/n in my high school, the world would be a much better place.”

With that, they stood, exchanging gratitude and handshakes. 

Dom and Nikki slung an arm over their son’s shoulders as they walked back to the parking lot, proud of the son they’d raised.

%

You were laying on your bed after dinner scrolling through social media when your phone began to ring. 

It was Tom.

You quickly picked up and placed the phone to your ear.

“Tom!?”

“Hey, y/n.”

“Oh my gosh! I tried to text you earlier but I figured your phone got taken away or something. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m good. And yes, I was grounded from my phone.”

“You say ‘was’ as though something has changed.”

“Well… Mrs. Johnson reversed my suspension,” he began.

“That's amazing!”

“I know, but she’s keeping it on my record until December. She said she’ll take it off if I can stay out of trouble but until then, I can’t be considered for valedictorian.”

“WhatI!” you exclaimed into the phone, shooting up to a sitting position.

“What’s wrong? Aren’t you happy about that?”

“No! Now I’ll have no one to compete with! We all know you and I are miles ahead of everyone else, so without you, I’ll have precisely zero motivation!”

Tom laughed at your self concern while you twisted your star ring.

“Well I’m glad you were worried about me. I’m getting to play in the game tomorrow too.”

“That’s great. You’ll have to dedicate your win to me.”

“That depends on if we win, but seriously, thank you. If it weren’t for you I’d probably be in way more trouble.”

“About that… why didn’t you tell her what actually happened this morning? This probably could have been avoided,” you suggest.

“I didn’t want to come forward for you without your permission. It happened so fast that I was willing to just take the fall instead of dragging you into it. It obviously worked out in the end, anyways. The other guys got suspended for most of next week and can’t play in the next two games.”

“Woah. Johnson was serious. Hopefully that’ll teach them some consequences of not respecting women. Will your hand be okay, though? It looked pretty beat up yesterday.”

“Well thankfully I punch with the left and throw with the right, so I should be good there. I’m mostly just worried about everyone seeing my ugly bruised face.”

“It can’t be that bad. Plus, if anyone tries to give you shit about it just remind them where you got it. Not many people can say they took down three football players with just their fists.”

He laughed again.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. I guess so. Anyways, I just wanted to call to tell you the news and thank you. See you tomorrow?”

“Sounds good, champ. We both need to rest up for our big days.”

“Champ? Is that my new nickname?” he questioned.

“Hm. We’ll see how it feels when I’m saying it to your face.”

“Alright, princess. Goodnight.”

You felt a flutter in your stomach.

“Night, Tom.”

%

The talk of the school on Friday was how Tom was back and Harrison’s posse was gone.

And everyone knew you had something to do with it.

You were popular and friends with a lot of people, but unless you were super close, they were usually pretty intimidated by you. Because of this, very few students came to ask you about what was going on.

Different rumors floated around all day, some saying that you and Tom were secretly dating, others claiming that you and Harrison were the ones dating, or that you were stuck in a love triangle with the two.

It was exhausting.

In home ec, the class was baking cinnamon rolls when Mrs. Flynn got everyone’s attention.

“Okay, class! I just wanted to ask if there were any couples wanting to get ‘divorced’? I want to figure out how to redistribute over the weekend for those that do.”

Three couples raised their hands and Mrs. Flynn wrote them down.

“Is there anyone else?” she scanned the room, stopping when her eyes met Tom. She looked between the both of you and raised her eyebrows.

You and Tom looked at each other, smiled, then back at her. You both shook your heads no. She pursed her lips, then grinned back.

“Alrighty then. Speak now or forever hold your peace!”

%

Your volleyball game that afternoon was a quick win, so you had plenty of time to shower and change before the football game that night.

There was a nip in the air now that it was the beginning of October, so you’d wiggled into some jeans and put on a long sleeved volleyball shirt. Your hair was pulled into two loose french braids that fell down your shoulders.

Your friends, having nothing to do while you got ready, had decided to go to the field early to do some “boy scouting” as they liked to call it, so you found them on the front row of the student section staring at the other teams' asses in their football pants.

Caroline and Alexis were talking about their own marriage project stuff when you sat down, waving to all of your friends.

“There you are! Did you eat dinner?” Alexis asked with concern.

“Hold on,” you reached into your bag and pulled out a sandwich from your favorite shop, unwrapping it and taking a big bite before continuing. “How’s it looking out there?”

Caroline leaned forward to talk to you.

“Numbers 11 and 28 are the cutest but it doesn't look like they’ll make it off the bench tonight,” she commented.

“Ugh. It always ends up that way, doesn’t it?”

You all talked some more as students filed in and the bleachers filled up.

You saw the team captains go to do the coin toss and watched Tom, who had tape around his left hand. 

As they came back to the bench, Tom noticed you and pointed his helmet towards you. He fished his necklace from his jersey to show you, then stuffed it back in before putting his helmet on.

You hadn’t really understood what he was trying to say, but assumed it was something about dedicating the game to you, so you just tossed a thumbs up at him and went back to your conversation.

The team had a long, rough game, but pulled out another win by just a field goal once again. You were headed to the parking lot when you heard a male voice yelling your name. 

You stopped to see it was Tom coming after you while the other girls went ahead to their vehicles.

Tom was covered in sweat and when he reached you was out of breath. His cheek had swollen up again and his bruises were apparent under the streetlights. 

“Hey. I parked by you so I figured we could walk together since my parents took the boys home.”

“Okay, I guess. Good game by the way. Your hand didn’t seem to stop you.”

“Thanks. It’s definitely hurting now. I’m just glad I’m not the reason we played poorly. Our defense is in major need of work, with and without our three missing players.”

“I could definitely tell. It must feel nice though, to win without them.”

“You have no idea. And yes, I dedicate this win to you,” he joked.

“As you should,” you fired back as you reached your car. “See you tomorrow?”

“Yep. I’ll try not to sleep through my alarm this time.”

%

Tom slept through his alarm.

Dom had let you in and mentioned that he thought he’d heard Tom rustling around upstairs, so you sat at the dining room table and did homework while waiting.

That morning, your friends and you had decided to go for a nice brunch, so for once you were dressed up nice, wearing a muted pink corduroy skirt and a flowy white v-neck. You had re-braided your hair into two loose french braids and wore some light makeup.

As you were working Nikki walked in.

“Oh my goodness. Stay right there, the lighting is perfect for some pictures.”

She ran out of the room and eventually came back with a camera and some light reflecting boards. As she was setting up the tripod, she started talking to you.

“You know, I’ve been wanting to do a photoshoot like this for a while. I haven’t done a real sit down shoot since I’ve been taking pictures at football games, and you’re the perfect subject.”

She directed you to pose certain ways, mostly trying to get candid pictures while you worked, but took some smiling portraits as well. After a little while, Tom appeared in the room with some coffee, his face still dark but somewhat better. 

“What are you guys doing in here?”

“Oh I’m just shooting y/n. I’m almost done. Why don’t you go sit down next to her and look like you’re working together.”

He rolled his eyes, used to his mother’s antics. He couldn’t blame her, it was her profession, after all.

“Do you really want me in pictures looking like this?” 

She looked up at him, remembering that he still looked pretty beat up. 

“Hold on, I can fix that,” she claimed, getting up. She returned with some foundation and concealer. He sat mostly still as she lightly applied it, wincing some when she dabbed her sponge over the darkest bruise. 

He took the seat next to you once she was done and Nikki told you to pose as though you were working together. She also got a few shots of you both looking seriously at the camera, then smiling.

At one point, Tom made a joking remark that caused you both to look at each other and laugh. You pretended not to notice the shutter click and flash light up.

After seemingly the hundredth picture of you and Tom together, he got fed up.

“Can we please be done now, mom. We need to work on our project.”

“Yes! Sorry, sorry. I was so deep into the zone that I forgot. You two were just being so cute.”

You felt yourself blush as Tom stood up.

“Okay, mom. We’re gonna go upstairs…” he blurted.

You gathered everything and followed him, almost running into Paddy when you reached the top of the stairs.

“Wow… y/n. You look so pretty,” he said quietly, blushing. You grinned sweetly.

“Thank you, Paddy. That’s very kind.”

“Don’t you agree, Tom? Don’t you think she looks pretty, too?” Paddy asked his older brother, who looked tense.

“Yes, Patrick. She looks very nice today. Now bug off, we need to work on our project,” he muttered. 

As you passed by, you thanked Paddy once more, amused at his middle school crush on you.

When you got to Tom’s room, you set down your stuff and pulled out a pair of leggings.

“I’m gonna go change real quick. You know my computer password by now so you can pull up the budget. I also have some makeup wipes in that pocket if you want them.”

When you came back, Tom was standing, rummaging around his desk. His face was also clean of the makeup.

“What are you doing?”

“Oh, you’re back. I was looking for that paper Flynn gave us Monday. I set it up here somewhere.”

You stuffed your skirt into your backpack and sat by your computer to see what he had done so far. He let out a soft “aha!” 

He opened up a drawer and dug around in it too.

“Wanna kiss?” he asked dismissively.

“Excuse me?”

He turned around, holding something silver in his hand. 

“A Hershey’s kiss. Get your mind out of the gutter.”  

He tossed you a chocolate and you rolled your eyes unwrapping it.

“It’s kind of hard to get what you mean without context.”

You popped it into your mouth as he uncased his, sitting back down.

“I keep a bunch of candies and stuff in that drawer so my brothers can’t steal them. Don’t tell any of them.”

“Deal, as long as you’ll get me another one.”

%

As you were leaving that afternoon, Nikki stopped you in the doorway.

“Oh, y/n, I’m glad I caught you. I was wanting to ask, have you’ve gotten senior pictures done yet?”

“No, but I’ve been wanting to get volleyball ones done soon while the leaves are changing color.”

“Oh perfect. I was planning on taking Tom to do his football pictures next Sunday if you’d like to join us. I’ll do them for free if you’re okay with me putting them on my website.”

“Absolutely! Where are you planning on going and I can just meet you there,” you agreed, happy to have that weight off your shoulders.

“Well my parents have this lake house about an hour away and Tom really wanted to get some shots around the dock and woods. Would that be alright with you? You could just come here and I’ll drive us out. It would just be the three of us.”

“That sounds perfect, Nikki. We can figure out details next Saturday?”

“Absolutely. See you next weekend, dear.”

%

A/N: Fun fact, the “wanna kiss” scene is what actually caused me to make this entire story! The idea popped into my head and I couldn’t stop thinking about it and somehow it turned into this. So yeah! Have a great week!

Pls message or send an ask to be added to the permanent or story tag list!

Tag List: @jackiehollanderr, @one-big-fangirl, @l0lmk, @primadonnasdream, @bookworm06, @thenoddingbunny-blog, @agentnataliahofferson, @spider-babe,

[palmett-hoes]

How do you feel about the Korean twinyards hc?

i like it fine, certainly more than white minyards, and i think it would establish a deeper layer of conflict between andrew and riko that could be interesting to explore

Uneasy Subconscious by maydaykevin on ao3 has the twins as korean. it's one of the few fics i've read that really uses the idea of the foxes as POC and delves into racial dynamics. i especially appreciate that each chapter follows a different fox, and they all get their own storyline as part of an interconnected plot. it's a good fic and i highly recommend checking it out, though cw for alcohol, some kissing/heavy petting, some internalized homophobia, and racist language (ch.6, racist gets knocked out cold)

---

that being said, korean isn't really my favorite headcanon for the twins.

(this first bit is gonna be purely my personal opinions and take on the character. i'm not getting into any systematic analysis yet.)

to be clear, i don't see kpop idols as representative of all koreans. HOWEVER i do think there's a pretty good chance that a korean interpretation of the twins (especially written by a white person) would take a lot of inspiration from kpop idols, considering their worldwide popularity makes them accessible touchstones of Korean culture to most people, and because they often have bleach blond hair. so while i don't necessarily have anything against the twins as Korean, i just don’t imagine andrew looking anything like an idol. i see him as fat and muscular and not conventionally attractive, and that’s just not the way big name idols look.

one of my favorite andrew FCs is Toshiyuki “Harold” Sakata, an olympic weightlifter and professional wrestler most famous for playing Oddjob in the James Bond movie Goldfinger.

now to me, Sakata is basically the perfect andrew, (although i don't hc andrew as Japanese). in terms of presence and physicality, he's boxy, powerful, blank, and intimidating. i also do think he's handsome, but not in a conventional way, if that makes sense

idk i just want to establish a concrete reference point for when i discuss people's appearances, and i absolutely love Sakata

---

now for the bits that aren't entirely my personal taste

this would be very different coming from a korean person, or really any asian person in general, because then it would come from a place of personal experience and understanding. however, i am white, and with that i need to do a lot of research and introspection if i want to write characters of color meaningfully

some of that is addressing internal biases about the ethnicity that you're headcanoning a character, like whether or not there are overt or harmful stereotypes you're playing into by writing andrew as korean. (i don't really think there are). but another thing to consider is 'why korean?' specifically 'why korean?' over any other asian ethnicity

it's a bit tricky to describe because by no means is any asian ethnicity overrepresented in western media, but what is represented focuses largely on light skinned east asians, mostly Chinese, Japanese, and Korean. asia is a massive and incredibly diverse continent, and i think for white people (especially, though not exclusively) looking to diversify your writing, it’s a good idea to do a little more general research first. Ethnicities from South, South-East, and Central Asia are all wildly underrepresented as well.

Is there something particular about Korean culture or Korean history that you feel resonates with the twins’ story? then i'd love to see them interpreted as korean!! but if not then consider learning more about other asian cultures, especially if (like me) you're deliberately looking to write meaningful diversity of underrepresented people.

---

and then there’s the question of how to actually write the twins as korean. we know enough about their family that it doesn’t work to just make a quick change and include some Korean cultural reference points. there are a lot of things to consider. (i’m using Korean here because it’s the ask, but these questions and considerations apply for writing the twins as any ethnicity)

first off. who’s korean? i’m assuming for most people it would be the twins’ dad while tilda is white, making the twins mixed. did aaron have a relationship with his father at all? does he even know who his father is? does he even know he’s Korean? culture is built and taught and experienced, it’s not something you’re born knowing. you need to have a backstory for aaron and the twins’ parents to figure out the amount of Korean influence aaron would have. can he speak the language? did he grow up eating the food? does he celebrate the holidays? did he grow up around other Korean people? deciding yes or no to any of these doesn’t make him any more or less Korean, but it does influence his characterization and his story. culture goes hand and hand with community. if aaron was a mixed kid raised completely by a white mother then it doesn’t make sense for him to speak the language or any of the other traditional hallmarks of Korean identity. he’s still Korean, but what that means to him - if it means anything to him - is very different

but what if it’s not just the twins’ father? names like ‘Hemmick’ and ‘Minyard’ obviously aren’t traditionally Korean names, but it may be worth figuring out a backstory for them anyway. there could still be a Korean story there to be told

and then there’s andrew. andrew given up at birth and raised from day 1 in the foster care system would have absolutely no conception of his ethnicity at all. he wouldn’t even know he was Korean. there are a lot of decisions you have to make to write this. is andrew white passing? in which case he wouldn’t even know he’s asian until aaron tells him so, which could be a huge shock to him. if he’s not white passing then what does he look like? this could affect the way he was treated growing up. a lot of mixed asian kids look very ethnically ambiguous. if so, andrew could have been treated similarly ambiguously, and could form an identity that is more fluid and based heavily on the person perceiving him. if he looks like his asian parent(s) then he could have been treated as an asian person, but he would have no connections to a specific ethnic culture, and this would be very apparent to a kid who is treated as an asian person. there is no pan-asian culture in the way that there’s a Black culture or a Latino culture. National and ethnic identities are more separate and defined because asia wasn’t displaced by european colonialism in the same way that Africa and the Americas were. if andrew sees himself as asian this lack of a specific connection could be very obvious to him. if he doesn’t see himself as asian this could be less so. but any way you write andrew, as any ethnicity, you’re going to have to consider this lack of knowledge about himself as being hugely influential on the development of his identity.

.

.

edit: i got an anon informing me that some of my wording up above comes off as rather dismissive and generalizing of Black and Latino culture. it wasn't my intention but it's badly worded and can certainly be read that way, and for that i'm sorry. i go more in depth on the problem and what i actually meant in the post

[dylinski]

Magnetism

Warnings: SMUT! bondage (but barely), language, violence, kind of dom tommy (but y/n is a brat so it doesnt last long), angst (obviously)

Relationships: Thomas/Reader

Word Count: 7.5K

Author: @dylinski​

A/N: Here’s my fic for day 4 of tomuary!!!! if i get them finished, i plan on posting two more but we’ll see how that goes. lol hope ya’ll enjoy and let me know what you think please. i’m really unsure about writing smut and idk if this is any good, so if i shouldn’t write anymore it would be nice to know. lol

There’s something about running for your life and fighting against all odds to survive that make a person reevaluate their life, but with Y/N, that’s not the case. Being in the scorch with a bunch of boys wasn’t much different from the glade, so what was there to consider? She knew who her friends and her enemies were and that’s all she needed to know in order to survive in this world. If Thomas had just listened to her when she said not to trust Teresa, more of them would be alive, but him not believing anything Y/N says is to be expected. Since the moment he came up and out of the box, something repellant between them switched on. The only proper way to describe it is when you try to force two poles of a magnet together with the same polar direction.

Fighting their way out of the maze, through the scorch, and now in this abandoned town lets a person see a lot of death and Y/N was tired of it. If that meant trying to convince Thomas that running around and attacking WCKD at random to find Minho, risking other’s lives, was a bad idea then she was willing to take all the blame. They were so close to paradise and they had saved so many souls already. At least Vince agreed, having one person on her side is nice.

There was another meeting, discussing all the usual topics, but Thomas seemed more pissed off than usual, which is saying something as of late. He’s been nothing but a pissy bitch since the search for his raven-haired friend had turned sour and unwilling. The meeting was held in a moderate-sized room, big enough to hold the handful of people permitted. Thomas was leaning on both hands over a table with Newt at his hip, what a surprise. They were combing over a map with Vince and Jorge, arguing about a last city or something. Y/N was sitting in the corner, rolling her eyes at practically every other word, a sad image of men and boys arguing over nonsense around the circular table. 

Newt would look up every once in a while and give her a sympathetic smile to let her know she wasn’t forgotten in the exchange of emotions and words. She liked Newt, he had always been kind to her when most of the other boys treated her like she was fragile and delicate in the maze. He never doubted her or underestimated her abilities despite what was between her legs, well, until that little shit popped up and out of the ground. Motherfucking Thomas, the angel, the savior, the one who will lead us to paradise. Yeah right, more like the one who will lead everyone to their preventable deaths.

“Look! He was there, okay? I know it. Minho was there!” The vein in Thomas’ neck was protruding and defined from the strain he was putting on his words. He was desperate. “We grabbed the wrong container!”

“Thomas, there was a 50/50 chance and we made a choice of which one to grab. Not to mention the odds of him being in either train car, to begin with, were small.” Vince was calm and collected, he always managed to keep a cool head.

“Yeah, but he was there! If I had just..” Thomas was quieter now, but no less desperate.

“You didn’t pick the wrong one, Mate. We saved at least 100 people from WCKD today. I wouldn’t call that a failure. We didn’t find Minho, but I have faith we will. He’s still out there, I know it.” Newt looked up at Y/N when he finished, and she couldn’t help to give a forced smile. Leave it to him to be the voice of reason, but also the one to egg on the bumbling buffoon everyone seems to eagerly place their faith in.

“Newt, I get that, but he was there, he was right there! If we hadn’t been so pressed for time I could have-”

Y/N jumped up, utterly pissed at this point and tired of hearing these idiots run round and round in the same circles. “You could have what, Thomas? You could have picked the ‘right’ container? Hmm? Why don’t you go tell that to Sonya? Or Aris? I’m sure they’d love to hear that you saving their lives, along with everyone else in that box, wasn’t your goal and you’d gladly trade them for the single life of Minho.”

Everyone in the room fell silent and it was filled with the light of the moon shining through the missing part of the ceiling. The flames from the lanterns danced on everyone’s shocked faces. Y/N was never one to prance around the daisies when it came to stating the obvious. Thomas looked almost ashamed and it was honestly annoying. She was tired of his pitiful ’I didn’t ask for this’ routine.

“You know that’s not what I meant.” Despite the guilt that raged in his stomach, he used it to fuel his anger towards Y/N, which was to be expected. He took most of his negative emotions out on her, his own personal punching bag, but he could never land any punches because she honestly couldn’t care less. She rolled her eyes and placed her hands on her hips, shooting knives at him and his nostrils flared under her eyes. An unknowing battle of spiteful gazes between them.

“Well, as entertaining as it is to watch you two practically have hate-sex with each other, we need to discuss our options.” Jorge obviously chose his words to jolt the two out of their staring contest and it worked. They both made faces like they had tasted something sour, scrunching their noses at the idea of actually wanting each other. Well, I mean, it’s not the first time Y/N had thought of it, but just because he had the body that could rival a god doesn’t mean she was ignorant of his pea-sized brain.

“There’s nothing to discuss. We’re not risking anyone’s lives to go to the last city, if it’s even real.” Y/N couldn’t help but sights the relief of Vince seeing reason.

“I’ve heard things over the years, that it was a last resort for WCKD, their place of operations. I’ve never managed to make it that far north, but it’s one of the safe heavens that were put into place when things went to shit.” Y/N huffed in annoyance, thanks, Jorge. Great job at giving the little shit ideas.

“Look, we could make it there with a small team in a week and then be back with Minho in no time.”

“No, Thomas. I’m not risking any more lives to save one person. This is a suicide mission. If it’s anything Jorge says it is, the city will be a fortress. Not to mention the road to get there, riddled with the infected. We don’t have the people or the resources to take on a fight like that.” Vince was tired of arguing with him, so he was standing his ground and that would be the end of it. Thomas may have been the leader in the glade and the scorch, but here he was allowed the privilege to have a say by Vince.

“I don’t need an army, just two or three-”

“Thomas, no!” Vince was done with these petty arguments and put his foot down. “The ship is almost done. We’ll be ready to sail in less than a week. There are casualties in war, and in this world, the life of one doesn’t out way the lives of the many. We’re not going and that’s final.”

Thomas grunted and threw his arms up in rebellion, stomping off to brood somewhere by himself. 

Y/N couldn’t help the small smile of satisfaction that crept onto her face from seeing him so pissed off. She strode over to where Newt was standing and crossed her arms, leaning her back against the table to face him.

“He’s hurting you know? He blames himself. He blames himself for everything honestly.” The smile melted away just as easily as it appeared. There goes Newt, always defending his puppy.

“He should! I told him not to trust Teresa!” Newt let a small shudder roll over his body at her name and Y/N couldn’t help but feel empathy and guilt for mentioning it.

“We all trusted her, except for you, of course. You never let us forget it, but we had no reason not to. She helped us, she helped Thomas. Maybe you were just jeal-”

“For the love of God, Newt, if you say I was jealous, I’ll break your other leg.” He chuckled at the threat, knowing it was empty and mostly a joke. It made her smile a bit, seeing him smile and laugh. He was always like a brother to her and she missed seeing him so happy. A lot of them haven’t been able to feel that way for a while now. Not since Thomas showed up and shucked it all up, anyway. 

“He understands why you hate him.” Y/N was caught off guard, lost in her own head when Newt broke through.

“I don’t hate him, I just…” There wasn’t really a word for it. It was like Thomas was made specifically to boil the blood in her veins and ignite a fire in her stomach that was begging to rage. He knew exactly how to get under her skin and press her buttons, and most of the time he wasn’t even trying.

“You two are a lot alike actually.” Newt let out a chuckle and ignored the hard stare directed at him. “You’re both stubborn as bulls, reckless too. Jumping into things without thinking clearly. You’re guided by emotion rather than logic, but there’s nothing wrong with that.” He turned his head to face his friend and curled up the corner of his lip. “Go get some sleep, we’ve all had a long day.” Newt patted her shoulder and limped off, leaving her alone in the room that now felt huge.

Y/N wasn’t really that tired, so she decided to go around to her favorite spot by the water that she found when they first arrived. The way the moonlight danced on the water in the darkness created the illusion of twinkling lights and reminded her of looking up into the sky in the glade. She hopped down from the ledge onto the sand and trotted through the thick and moist beach towards the large rock that always managed to be warm despite the sun. When it finally came into view, she halted in her tracks.

Of course, Thomas would fucking be there, laying on her rock in her secret spot. A low grumble resonates in her chest as she clenched her fist and stomped towards him. He heard and sat up hazily, having been lost in the limbo of sleep and consciousness.

“What? Who’s...oh. It’s you.” He laid back down, resting his head on his arms that were raised over his head.

“That’s my spot.” Y/N spoke through gritted teeth and clenched fists, trying not to punch him.

He lifted his head slightly and opened one eye, looking Y/N over and then let his head fall back down. “I don’t see your name on it.”

Y/N’s jaw went slack as she let out a small whine of protest, which seemed to put a shit-eating grin on Thomas’ face. Despite being pissed as hell, she couldn’t deny that his smile, with the crescent eyes and the way the moon illuminated his face, was...beautiful. No. No no no no. She’s mad and he’s an annoying little shit that gets everybody hurt or killed. Okay, good. She couldn’t stand the thought of actually being attracted to him.

“You know, Newt says-” Thomas was cut off by her.

“Newt says a lot of things.” Despite being so close to him, Y/N still couldn’t help but feel the rise of annoyance as she rolled her eyes.

Thomas sat up on his elbows and looked over at Y/N. The way he looked at her, and the light of the night with the waves crashing, for some reason it made her feel vulnerable. She moved her arms that were crossed on her chest down to wrap around her stomach. Thomas tilted his head in the most quizzical of ways like he was trying to decipher her. She was a puzzle he couldn’t quite solve, but so terribly wanted to. 

Tired of being gawked at, Y/N took the few steps between them and leaned against the large boulder, her back mostly facing Thomas. She looked up to the sky that was mostly black and empty and let out a sad sigh. She missed the stars, but since they left the maze they seemed to have all died out.

“I know, I miss them too.” Y/N shot a look over her shoulder at Thomas who was looking up. She couldn’t help but linger her gaze on him, he looked so...broken. He must have felt her stare because the muscles in his arms flexed under his weight as he shifted uncomfortably. His jaw clenched, but he still kept looking up, searching for something they both knew he’d never find.

“Why do you want to save Minho so bad?” He broke his lock on the sky and looked at her like it was the stupidest of questions, which it was. “I mean, I know why, but he’s probably dead. We haven’t heard anything about him in months and-”

“He’s alive.” Thomas laid himself back down flat against the rock. “I know it, I can feel it in my gut.” He spoke like it was the truth, something factual rather than the simple feeling that it really was.

“Yeah, but what if he’s not? Are you willing to risk our lives, your life, for someone who may not even be alive?”

He sat up fully and his eyes were dark and full of emotions she couldn’t quite decode. His posture changed to confidence and purpose. “Minho would do it for me.” He looked out to the ocean and crossed his legs, letting his elbows rest on them, placing his cheeks between his hands.

Y/N couldn’t argue with him there. She had known Minho longer than Thomas, and if there was one thing he’d never do, it would be leaving a friend behind. Thomas scooted over and patted the hard surface next to him. She examined the spot and looked up to him, questioningly. He gave her a small smile and she climbed up next to him. There was silence between them, not having much to say, as they shared the space and took in the sea and its illusion of stars.

“I��m going,” Thomas spoke softly as he continued to stare out at the water. They could hear the waves lapping against the stone as his words echoed. Y/N wasn’t entirely sure what he meant. Was he going now? Going to sleep? He looked up and his lips turned down, eyes full of sadness and it hit her. He was going to the last city, alone.

“What!? You can't go! Did you not hear Vince? It’s a suicide mission!” Y/N surprised both of them at her exasperation to get Thomas to stay. I mean, sure she didn’t like the guy, but it’s not like she wanted him dead.

He looked at her and pulled his knees to his chest, wrapping his arms around them. “I don’t care. I have to at least try.” The look in his eyes was pitiful and unrelenting. The decision was made, and once he made his mind up on something, there was no use arguing with him.

“If you want to die, that’s fine, I won’t be a part of it.” Y/N hopped down from the rock and started to walk away hurriedly. “But I’m telling Vince.” 

Thomas’ eyes grew wide and he jumped from the rock and chased after her. “No! You can't say anything!” He grabbed her arm and she reactively spun around, landing a solid punch in his gut. Thomas grabbed his stomach and took a step back, grunting in pain. She rolled her eyes and turned to continue walking when Thomas ran up behind her and tackled her to the ground.

“What the fuck, Thomas!?” She struggled but managed to spin around, her back to the sand and Thomas hovering over top her, caging her in with his arms as they held her wrists down over her head.

“I can't let you tell anyone before I leave!” His hot breaths were huffing into her face, a contrast to the cold breeze that had chilled the air.

Y/N looked up at him in frustration and confusion, but mostly at herself. Her eyes flitted down to his lips for the slightest of seconds, but she had to throw those thoughts from her mind. Sorry, Thomas. She slammed her head up into the boy’s nose and he let out a shout as he flew back, grabbing his face and releasing his grip on her arms. She wiggled out from under him and stood up to keep going, but a hand wrapped around her ankle and she face-planted into the hard earth and let out a groan, rubbing the sore spot on her head.

Thomas climbed up on top of her, straddling her waist from behind. He held her wrists to her side this time, avoiding the possibility of her bucking her head back and hitting him in the face again. She writhed underneath him and fought as best she could, but he was stronger than her. It didn’t help that he had the advantage either.

“Are you jacked!? Let me go you little shuckface!” She let out screeches and shouts as she struggled, but it was no use. She gave up and relaxed under him. “Well, you can't hold me down forever! What’s your plan here slinthead?”

Thomas didn’t reply, obviously trying to make this shit up as he went along. He pinned her arms behind her back and stood up, making a grunting noise as he pulled her up with him. “Oh, now he’s the quiet brooding type. Couldn’t get you to shut up for the life of me in the glade, but now you got nothing to say?”

“Shut up.” He grunted through his teeth as he pushed Y/N forward a bit, jerking her around as they walked. He still had her arm pinned behind her back and it was getting kind of painful now.

“Where are you taking me? Are you gonna kill me? Didn’t think you’d have the balls. Well, actually with all the people you’ve killed over the last year, it probably won’t be that hard.” Thomas threw Y/N up against the wall of one of the buildings as they passed through the camp and her head bounced off, now throbbing in two places. She slammed her eyes shut and grabbed the back of her skull as Thomas slammed his hands into the wall on either side of her face. His body was pressing into hers and she could feel every muscle tense as he gritted his teeth and flared his nostrils.

Their faces were inches apart as he growled at her. “I’m getting fucking tired of you reminding me how many mistakes I’ve made!” She has seen him angry like this before, and it was intense, but to have it directed at her, if she was less of a stubborn mule, she probably would have klunked her pants. Thomas was like a raging sea when he was truly angry, everything in his path swallowed up and demolished. He had so much anger, so much hate towards WCKD and himself that when he reached a tipping point it would all spill out like an erupting volcano, and Y/N just happened to be in his path.

“You walk around, talking shit about me to everyone and I can’t take it anymore! You think I don’t carry those people with me, that I don’t know the lives I’ve cost!? I didn’t want any of this! I never asked for it. I didn’t want to be the leader! That’s Minho’s job, but for some God-forsaken reason, everyone but you thinks I’m some savior. I just want to save my friends! I just want to get as far from WCKD and this fucking place as I can! The last thing I need is you reminding me how royally I’ve screwed up every five seconds!” He pulled her off the wall, she was mostly shell shocked from his burst of fury. He gripped her bicep tight enough to leave a bruise as he guided her further through the camp. “But first, I’m getting Minho.”

They traveled the rest of the way in silence which was preferred by Thomas since he was trying not to wake up anyone anyways. They made it to the small building that Thomas had claimed as his own and he shut the door behind them. He pushed Y/N down forcefully on his excuse for a bed and she sat there, still and silent. Thomas paced and ran his fingers through his hair as his mind raced a million miles a minute.

Y/N gulped and wasn’t entirely sure what to say to keep him from exploding again. It wasn’t that she feared he would hurt her, she knew he wouldn’t, but she feared to see him like this. Seeing him like a rabid dog biting at the ankles of anyone who caught his eye. Thomas grabbed a shirt from the floor and ripped off a piece and grabbed her arm, pulling her up the bed.

“Are you serious? You’re tying me up?” Thomas glared at her and then proceeded to tie her wrist to the post of the bed. “Kinky.” Her words were meant to antagonize him, and it worked as he visibly clenched his jaw in vexation. He got up and started to walk around the room when Y/N cleared her throat and waved her hand at Thomas. “Well you’re not very bright, are you?” He looked at her with bewilderment and she rolled her eyes. “My other hand. What’s to stop me from untying your sad excuse for a knot?” Thomas growled under his breath, mostly at himself for not thinking about that possibility. He ripped off another strip of cloth and tied her other wrist to the opposite bedpost.

She wasn’t entirely sure why she was helping him, but she was starting to find this entertaining. Seeing him sputter around in an attempt to get himself killed and digging himself into a deeper hole. Y/N watched him with enjoyment as she crossed her ankles and relaxed against the headboard. He was scurrying around the room like a squirrel, trying to find things and stuffing them into a bag.

“So you’re just gonna leave me tied up when you leave until someone finds me, huh?” Thomas looked over his shoulder and huffed as he continued to rummage through his belongings. “Don’t forget your jacket, might get a little chilly.” He stood up from where he was squatting and threw his bag down hard on the ground and curled in his lips with impatience.

“Keep talking and I’ll gag you!” 

“Ooo, promise?” Thomas shot daggers as he glinted his eyes and growled. Y/N just smiled and wiggled her head in triumph. “If you wanted to get me into bed, all you had to do was ask.” Thomas rolled his eyes and turned to keep packing. She was getting bored of the silence and made an attempt to rile him up again.

 “Some of the boys in the glade used to talk, you know?” Thomas ignored her as she rambled on. “Apparently you weren’t very quiet when you used to, you know?” Thomas turned to her with curiosity. Since her hands were, tied she couldn’t make the motion, so she thrust her hips up twice, but he got the idea. His eyes went wide and he froze in place. Y/N couldn’t help but laugh at his discomfort. “I overheard Jeff telling Zart about how they accidentally saw you in the woods rubbing one out and when you came you said my na-”

“SHUT UP!” Thomas grabbed what was left of the shirt from the end of the bed and shoved it into Y/N’s mouth. She just laughed through the fabric, her enjoyment muted. His cheeks were so pink that they looked like they were hot to the touch and it was almost adorable how flustered and embarrassed he looked. He was sitting on the side of the bed, his back mostly facing Y/N and his head hanging low in shame.

Finally, his cheeks turned from pink to red and he looked to her as he stood. “Well, what do you expect with you prancing around the glade in those short shorts and spaghetti-strap shirts!?” Y/N’s face went from amused to resentful. She tried defending herself through the cloth but all that came out was stifled noise. Thomas threw his arms up and huffed in annoyance, then grabbed the shirt from her mouth.

“I said, you fucking misogynist, that it was fucking hot out while I was working, unlike you who avoided his duties like the plague! Besides, how is it fair for you to fucking say shit like that about me when you paraded yourself around in those pants that clung to your ass while you were shirtless? Do you think I liked staring at your abs as sweat rolled down them?” Both of them were stunned into silence, Y/N realizing what she said and Thomas just amazed that she even thought about him like that. 

They both stared at each other, Y/N turning flushed and Thomas trying to hold back his smile. “Shut up!” She pushed her leg out to the side as she kicked him as hard as she could in the leg. He shouted at the impact and bent over to grab the spot that now throbbed.

“You’re such a violent little shit!” He hollered at her, referring to their brawl earlier.

“Yeah? Imagine me in bed.” Her words were sultry and aimed at being intimidating, but Thomas just smiled the most devilish grin. 

“I already have.”

Y/N rolled her eyes and blushed as she turned her head against her shoulder in the opposite direction of Thomas in protest. After a moment she looked back since he was so quiet and he was still standing there, looking at her with hunger and gnawing on his bottom lip. She narrowed her eyes and couldn’t help but look down and noticed the bulge in his pants. Her eyes went wide and she gasped as she went to kick him again. He yelped and swatted her foot away. “What the fuck, Thomas?”

“What!? You’re the one who said to imagine you in bed!”

“Jesus fucking Christ, you’re such a whore!” Thomas had a smile of amusement at being called a whore like it was a funny joke. Y/N just huffed and turned her eyes up in annoyance. 

“C’mon, you haven’t thought about me?” Thomas sat on the edge of the bed, keeping distance between them in case she wanted to kick or headbutt him again.

“God no!” Her words were firm and strong, but she was betrayed by her face. His lips went dry at the lie and she licked them unknowingly as her eyes darted to his. She blushed and looked away quickly to avoid any further incrimination, but Thomas grabbed her chin and turned her back to face him. His face was so close to hers now, them only needing to whisper to communicate.

“Tell me, what did you imagine? Do you think about my thick cock while you had your fingers inside yourself?” She shuddered at his words and her mouth was like a desert, begging for water. Her lips were parted and she couldn’t gain control of her tongue as she searched his eyes, full of need and hidden desire. He licked her bottom lip with the tip of his tongue and a chill coursed through her. He pulled away and her face followed, but was she restrained by the ties on her wrists. She let out a small whine at the loss of his mouth. Thomas bit his lip and chuckled. “If that’s how your lips taste, I bet the rest of you tastes just as amazing.” His hand rested on her bare calf and trailed its way up her leg until it reached her thigh where the hem of her shorts began.

Her hot, panting breaths were mixed with his, their lips nearly touching. She wanted desperately to close the minuscule distance between them, but couldn’t make her body move, frozen under his touch. Thomas went in, but just before their lips connected he tilted his head and collided his mouth with her neck. She let out a gasp at the sudden feeling of his warm lips against her chilled flesh. He kissed and sucked at the spot just below her jaw as she leaned back, giving him more access. He worked his way down to the pulse in her neck and bit down, then licked over it to alleviate the red marks. The mix of pain and pleasure, hot and cold, had her rubbing her thighs together in search of friction. Y/N let out a small moan into Thomas’s ear and his hand made its way further up her leg. He continued to lick and nip at her neck, leaving marks and right before his hand reached her core he pulled away.

Y/N let out a whine of protest at the loss of his warmth as he stood up and started to walk away. She was finally able to find her voice, but just barely. She croaked out in a pant, “You can’t just do that.”

“Can’t I?” A smile crossed his lips and the asshole had the nerve to wink. She pouted and huffed in retaliation and Thomas was now standing at the end of the bed, his legs touching the mattress, directly vertical to her. “I’m not going to just give you what you want. You have to work for it, Princess.” Y/N’s eyes went wide, seeing him like this, so domineering. The last thing she ever expected was for him to be authoritative in bed, let alone letting herself be subdued by him.

Thomas was such an arrogant little shit, he got into crevices that she didn’t even know she had. Working his way through her walls and made her squirm. She tugged at the cloth around her wrists, digging into her flesh and creating a pleasurable sting, wishing she could jump on him. She’s not entirely sure if her desire is to jump his bones or beat his ass though. He laughs and leans over her feet, placing his hands on the mattress. “Come on, baby girl, beg.” He took his time saying the last word, allowing the ‘g’ to bounce off his tongue.

“I don’t fucking beg!” Y/N spit at Thomas and the wet hit his chin. He grinned and stood up as he wiped it from his face with his finger, then placed it in his mouth. He sucked on it and let it out with a pop. Even if her tongue wouldn’t beg, her eyes sure did. “Fucking Christ…” she mumbled under her breath, but he still heard and chuckled.

Thomas places his hands on her ankles and slowly slid them up the length of her legs, maintaining eye contact. He placed his knees on the bed and was straddling the lower part of her body. When his fingers reached the waist of her pants, he curled his fingers into the band and looked her in the eyes. His digits against her flesh were thrilling and like fire coursing to her core. He searched her eyes for protest, but Y/N bit her lip and gave him the slightest nod. He smirked and looked down as he dragged the clothing off her hips. The tug pulled her down slightly, now resting on her tailbone instead of her ass. He pulled her shorts all the way off with her shoes and let them drop to the floor.

Y/N crossed her legs, feeling vulnerable, but Thomas leaned in and forced them apart by her knees. She dragged her legs up, placing her feet flat on the bed as Thomas’ fingers trailed up her thighs, leaving a trail of fire. He leaned down, his heat breaths against the inside of her legs. He kissed and licked at the warm skin and left bruising marks as he sucked into it. His mouth made its way up painfully slow to her sex when he blew cold air across it. A shiver radiated up her spine and left her feeling dizzy at the mix of everything.

Thomas kept licking and sucking everywhere around her core, the place where she so desperately wanted him to be. Her hips bucked up uncontrollably whenever he got agonizingly close, but he would always move away. “Thomas..” His name was breathy and needy, a plea for him to stop being such a tease. He moaned at the sound of his name on her lips and it reverberated through her skin as he continued to kiss and she felt it in her core. The stimulation causing her to whine. 

“Tell me what you want, Princess.” His words vibrated against her flesh as he refused to release his lips. 

Y/N let out a couple hearty breaths when she finally panted out, “Fuck me with your tongue, you prick!”

Thomas dove into her core without hesitation and the sound that came from her was somewhere between a screech and a gasp. His tongue lapped up around her entrance, licking up all the wetness he caused. He hummed at the taste and it sent shivers through her body and down to her toes. “God, you’re so fucking wet.” He licked a stripe up to her clit and clamped his lips around the nub as he sucked hard. The pressure around it was inciting, but then he started to flick his tongue across the bundle of nerves. The two sensations mixing together sent a warm thrill down to her bones as her back arched up slightly. 

The noises coming from Y/N were a mix of moans and gasps as his tongue worked on her fervently. He let go of her clit and replaced it with the pad of his finger, rubbing circles into it. He traced the ring of her entrance with the tip of his tongue until her hips bucked up and he penetrated, just like she had said she wanted him to. He thrust his tongue in and out, drinking up the dampness she was producing for him. “So wet. Taste’s so good.” The words vibrated through her core and a deep long moan was released. 

“Fi..fingers.” She struggled to get the word out, but Thomas knew what she needed. He placed his mouth around her nub again, sucking and flicking while his finger traced the place his tongue had been. He looked up at her through his eyelashes and watched as she writhed under his torment. She looked down at him and whined, so he gave in and pushed a finger inside her. He slowly pumped it in and out as she let out soundless gasps. He wiggled his finger, stretching her out and slid a second one in. He pumped as he sucked at her clit and her moans were constant now. Her body, unable to keep still, was beyond her control and fully reacting to everything that Thomas was doing.

He scissored his digits, widening her for his cock. “Are you gonna come on my fingers, baby?”

“Mhmmm” That was all Y/N could manage with all the sensations she was feeling. That fire building in her stomach was overflowing and begging to spill out. She was such a wreck that she felt like she was being torn apart. Thomas curled his fingers and pumped them vigorously as he kept his mouth to her bundle of nerves and hit that spot that triggered everything. His digits brushed across it once, twice, three times, and then the coil broke.

Thomas watched as Y/N let out a silent scream and threw her head back. He smiled at his victory and hummed around her clit, causing her body to spasm through her orgasm. He licked around his fingers, taking in all she had to offer. Pulling his fingers from her, she went limp on the bed, panting with her eyes shut and her wrists red from tugging at the ties around them. He licked his digits, eating up everything he could and couldn’t help but be smug at how well he unraveled her. “Oh, I’m not done with you yet babygirl. If I made you come that good on my fingers, I can’t wait to see you on my cock.” 

Thomas started to rub the all too obvious tenting in his pants and Y/N opened her eyes, panting, and looked at him in awe. He pulled off his shirt and, dear God those abs and his chest. He wasn’t chiseled or defined, but you could still see the muscles easily. There was a patch of hair between his pecs that spread down and across to his nipples that were hard pebbles. Y/N licked her lips as she thought about running her tongue across them. Her eyes found the thick brush of hair just below his belly button that led down to the band of his pants that hung low on his hips, showing off the ‘v’ that disappeared into his waistband. 

Y/N gulped as she rubbed her thighs together, becoming aroused again just by the sight of the man. He reached a hand down his pants and started rubbing, as she poked his legs with her foot. “Take. Them. Off.” Thomas smiled and did as he was told. His pants fell around his ankles as he stepped out, kicking off his boots. He pumped his cock, the flesh around his swollen head begging to be tasted.

He crawled onto the bed, his heavy dick hanging between his legs as he hovered over Y/N. She was licking her lips so much they were bound to become chapped. He laid his body on top of her, his cock resting against her pelvis. He reached a hand under her top, pulling the hem up to reveal her breast. The rough pad of his thumb brushed over the sensitive and raised peak, making her close her eyes. She let out a hot breath and Thomas took advantage of her open mouth. He plunged his tongue between her lips and swirled it around, filling her with her own taste.

Their lips smacked against each other, creating a dance of tongues filled with moans and whines. Thomas released her mouth and trailed suckling kisses across her jaw and down her neck until he reached her nipple. He took it into his mouth and thrust his hips forward, rubbing his shaft against Y/N’s all too sensitive clit. She shuddered and met his hips as she bucked up against him. He let out a deep groan at the friction he’d been craving so frustratingly and lightly bit down on the flesh next to her nipple in response.

“Untie. Me. Now.” Y/N huffed, trying to keep herself coherent enough to speak.

“Not yet.” Thomas purred into her ear and licked a long stripe from her jaw up to behind her ear that left chills on her skin as the cold air hit the wetness. She grunted in revolt at not being untied but was distracted as Thomas thrust his hips up again and she let out a hitched breath. He zoned in his focus on her nipple, sucking and nibbling until Y/N was writhing beneath him.

Thomas started to kiss her passionately in a chaos of lips, teeth, tongues, and saliva as he lifted his hand not preoccupied with her nipple to untie the fabric around her left wrist. She pulled her arm away at the freedom and immediately wove her fingers through his hair. He gave her other nipple equal attention when he switched hands to release her other wrist. It went for his ass without hesitation. She drew her leg up over his thigh as her fingers dig into the flesh on his behind. He moaned into her mouth at the feeling of her touch, not realizing how sorely he needed it.

His hips bucked up against her core rhythmically now as they deepened their kiss in a flutter of groping and tugging of flesh. “Fuck me.” Y/N spoke into his mouth and Thomas growled in response. He leaned up, pulled her shirt over her head and lined his cock up with her cunt. His head and shaft were already slick with her wetness from gliding across her core. He pressed the tip against the entrance and slowly pushed the head in. Y/N let out a moan as she felt him move deeper inside her, inch by agonizing inch. Halfway, he easily slid in until he bottomed out.

He kept still, taking in her heat around him and allowing her to adjust to his size. She whined when he was still for too long and the look in her eyes was all the answer he needed. He hiked her leg over his hip for a better angle and slowly pulled out until she was almost empty. He slowly pushed back in until their pelvis’ met again. He repeated this excruciating movement until she couldn’t take it anymore. She gripped the back of his head, intertwining her fingers in his hair and pulled his face to her. She kissed him hard and pulled on his lip with her teeth letting it bounce back with a plop. He let out a rumble in his chest and thrust into her hard. A small yelp escaped her chest and she dug her other hand into his shoulder. “Fuck.”

Thomas pulled out slow again, but rammed into her hard. He did this a few more times until he couldn’t take it anymore himself. He started to quicken his pace and Y/N’s head fell back as she clung to him. Her moans and grunts unrelenting, littered with profanities and his name, egging him on. “Oh fuck.” She forced out her words with each breath as he pushed into her like there was no room for them with him inside.

“Fuck, baby girl. You feel so fucking good.” Thomas let his head fall into the crevice of her neck as he pulled her other leg over his hip, the heels of her feet digging into the bottom of his ass. He mercilessly thrust into her, over and over, moving the bed along with them and they were both practically screaming now. “Christ, princess you’re so tight.”

Y/N couldn’t answer, her mind too wired and out of control, just like her body. She let out noises she couldn’t decipher and felt that heat in her abdomen start to boil like a hot white flame. They were both covered in sheens of sweat, and she watched as a bead dripped down Thomas’ temple. The vein in his neck was defined and strained, pulsing visibly. “I’m so fucking close.”

Thomas reached down between them and started to vigorously rub circles on her clit, he shifted his pelvis and with his next thrust hit her g-spot perfectly. “Holy..” She gasped out as the build-up reached its peak, the split moment of feeling lighter than air, her stomach jumping. “FUCK.” Her dams burst and she let out a long and gruff breath, exhaling hard as she came around his thick cock, her eyes and head rolling back.

Thomas could feel her clenching around him and the hot pressure sent him over the edge as he came inside her, letting hot spurts coat her walls. He took his fingers from her clit and wrapped his hand around the base of his cock as he milked out every last bit of his orgasm into Y/N. He collapsed down onto her, their bodies a mess of sweat, saliva, and come. They both panted and sighed as they let their bodies catch up to the moment, exhausted from what just happened.

Thomas got up and grabbed a cloth, dousing it in water, then cleaning up the mixture of come from Y/N. He cleaned off his limp cock and let it drop to hang between his thighs. He laid back down in the bed next to her and wrapped his arms around her as she curled up next to him. He reached over and played with the ends of her hair, examining her face. “I’m still leaving, you know.”

Y/N laid flat on her back and sighed. “I know.” She turned back into his side and looked up from his chest. “Let’s go get Minho, together.”

Taglist: @xoprincessmel​ @bitch-banshee​ @parker-potter​ @writingsbychlo​ @lettersofwrittencollective​ @fan-child​ @moongoddesskiana​

[eightiesrockbaby]

Dreams of an Insomniac

Pairing: Nikki x Reader

Description: Your brother, Vince, let you ride with his new band after you decided to run away from home. Though, he did have a few rules. And you were prone to breaking every single one of them. 

Genre: Idk, kinda sad kinda smutty?

Word Count: 2,166

Warnings: Language, mentions of alcohol and sex.

Click here to find my masterpost!

Notes: I’m thinking about making a part two of this? Maybe Vince would catch them in the act, find out about them from a newspaper article? Idk lmao, enjoy <3

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The bus hummed quietly underneath your bunk as it continued down the dark, windy road. You huffed loudly, projecting your frustrations into the confined space. You weren’t frustrated at the situation - anything but, in fact - rather, at the difficulty of falling asleep. It had been like that ever since you’d joined the tour a couple weeks back.

Maybe the bus was to blame. The road had too many twists and turns for the large vehicle to handle, and the rain battered off it as though someone was throwing pebbles. Or maybe you were still focussed on your parents; the empty house they’d woken up to, the goodbye note you’d left on the kitchen counter.

Despite the worries that leaving them caused, you knew it was the right thing to do. And Vince left too, in a fashion. He gave them some warning at least, and a record deal to keep him going in terms of money. You didn’t give or have either of those things; you left because you were pushed, not because you were pulled.

For once Vince was the considerate older brother, when you told him you wanted to leave home he offered to help. Said you could ride with the band until you landed some place you wanted to stay. It was the least he could do, according to himself anyway.

You sighed again, pushing the duvet down to the bottom of the bunk and into a crumpled heap. You had decided to get a drink, maybe it would help you sleep. At this point, anything was worth a try.

The curtain separating the bunks was thin, so tip-toeing to the living room area was probably the best option. You didn’t want to wake anyone. Don’t get yourself wrong, the guys were nice and all. Just, it still felt somewhat uncomfortable when you were alone with them without Vince.

He had made the mistake of introducing you to the guys post-show. In other words, when everyone was drunk and high off their asses. 

Tommy made a couple of passes at you that night, saying he’d fuck you if you weren’t Vince’s sister. Something about fucking you would be like doing it with Vince anyway. You guessed it was the chick hairstyle he’d been sporting the past few months.

Mick never really spoke to you - he kept very much to himself. He talks more to you now, making sure you’ve had a semi-decent breakfast on the road and asking if you have to pee every time the bus stops. It wasn’t the best conversation, but it was something. Occasionally you’d poke fun at your brother together. Okay, that was more than occasionally.

Nikki slipped you smack that night - successfully, of course. Not that you wouldn't have asked around for some anyway. You two were eerily similar; same hair colour, humour, taste in drugs etc. Maybe the last one was nothing to brag about, but it was a similarity nonetheless.

The floor was cold as your bare feet made their way across it. You kept your head down as you entered the room to make sure you didn't step on any discarded clothes or empty bottles. The bus was a constant mess. Just like Vince’s bedroom used to be back home.

“Can’t sleep?” you heard a voice question. It was followed by a dark chuckle as you visibly jumped from it’s unexpectedness. After all, you did think you were the only one awake. 

You looked up to see Nikki sitting at the wooden dining table glancing back at you with a faint smile. There were papers sprawled all over the space - some ripped, or scrunched into balls.

You took the seat opposite him, nodding in response to his question. He chewed the lid of his pen and placed his other hand on top of a bottle of Jack. 

“Want some?” He asked, “old people use it as a nightcap.”

You laughed and nodded again before resting your head in your hands. Nikki reached round the side of him where the glasses were kept, grabbing one and filling it for you. Of course, he poured one for himself too. The man was nothing without his drink. Apparently.

He screwed the lid back on the bottle and motioned for you to take a glass. You did as he said, taking a large gulp and grimacing at the taste. Not your favourite to say the least. 

“So, why can’t you sleep?”

Nikki tended to ask a lot of questions; was quite interested when it came to other people’s lives. But God help you if you asked him anything personal. The ball would be on the roof before you could even toss it. He was somewhat of a mystery man.

“Could ask you the same question,” you tried, taking another sip of your drink.

“You could, but I asked first.” 

He had a way of getting things out of you; he was the first one - other than Vince, obviously - that you had explained your situation to. He was nice about it, too. Surprised you a little, considering he could come off as somewhat apathetic at times. 

“Just,” you struggled to find the right words, “it’s lonely.” 

Nikki looked up at you puzzled. Maybe a little hurt, too. The two of you had had the occasional movie moment in the past few weeks you’d spent together. With that, it meant that you would make eyes at each other from across the room, or simply let one take a bite of the other’s food. Little things nobody else noticed, or so you hoped. 

“I mean, you and the guys are great, but, I miss my girl friends. And my boyfriend.”

You looked down at the glass in hand and swirled the dark liquid. It wasn’t strictly him you missed, rather, it was the affection he gave. And the sex, oh god, the sex.

Vince didn’t like seeing you sleep around, and considering you were technically on his tour, you went along with his rules for the most part. Obviously you still gave the occasional blowjob in grubby club toilets, or maybe you’d get fingered behind the venue. But it wasn’t anything like you got up to back home - it was a sorry excuse if you were being honest.

Nikki coughed slightly before speaking up, “you uh, you have a boyfriend?”

You knew what he was getting at, considering you had never mentioned one before. Though, it hadn’t really come up in conversation. He knew if he asked you if you had a boyfriend, it would make it obvious that he liked you. And Nikki Sixx doesn’t do obvious. Not with relationships anyway; pretty sure the only people he’s said ‘I love you’ to was your brother, Tommy and Mick. 

But you know a hopeless romantic when you see one. Rather, when you meet one. And it wasn’t just because you knew he liked you - anyone could tell that from a mile off. Apart from Vince, who liked to pretend he didn’t notice anything between the two of you. 

No, you could see it in the way Nikki treated the women he slept with. It was different from how your brother would - oh, Vince sure treated girls like shit for someone who would punch a guy for treating you the same. Mick was the complete opposite; he didn’t have a girlfriend and rarely slept with random women either, not even the nice ones. And Tommy, well Tommy was a hopeless romantic too. Except it was so easy to tell - poor guy wore his heart on his sleeve. 

“I did. Or, well, I do? I don’t know really. We never explicitly broke up but then again we never explicitly asked each other out in the first place. It was always weird between us - but we had a good run.”

The older boy listened to you ramble, not interrupting even once. It was almost out of character.

“Well, it’s not like you’re going to see him any time soon,” Nikki spoke in a low voice. Whisper-like; flirtatious.

He stood up from opposite you, making you budge up so he could sit beside you in the booth-like diner seat. You turned to face him, the two of you now inches away from each other. Although, he seemed timid - nervous, almost. His words came out in quite the contradictory fashion, however.

“My advice would be to fuck him out of your system, you know. Maybe I could even help you?” Nikki suggested smugly.

You knew it was unlikely for anything real to happen between you and Nikki. He was a complicated man, and everyone had warned you not to get too close. As if you could.

But alas, you weren’t looking for a relationship anyway. So maybe Nikki’s offer was the best way to go about things for now. You had enjoyed the game of teasing the two of you had played over the past few weeks though, so you continued such.

“I don’t know, he was pretty special to me...” you lifted your arms off the table and wrapped them around Nikki’s neck to play with the strands of hair that fell down onto his back.

“Maybe it would take a few tries,” You said, matching Nikki’s earlier low and seductive tone. 

His lips turned up into a sly smile, humming in response and leaning in to rest your forehead’s together. Your breathing hitched, your mind almost wiped of all but this sweet moment.

Almost.

The two of you had your eyes closed now, both ghosting over each other’s lips yet neither confident enough to make the first move. But then he couldn’t take it any longer; the lust, the wait, the hunger - it was all too much.

Nikki leaned in, pressing his lips to yours faintly, testing the waters. You kissed back immediately, hands moving from around his neck to either side of his face. He moaned slightly in response and did the same, deepening the kiss as he went.

Eventually, he pulled back for air. You whimpered. He didn’t deprive you of touch for long, mouth now attaching itself to your neck. You threw your head back, almost completely entranced in the moment. 

Almost.

You couldn’t ignore it any longer, Vince’s words swimming around your head. 

“Nikki...” you dragged his name out, hoping to make him stop. However, it came out as more of a moan and hence didn’t work in your favour. 

Your hands roamed his body, tilting your head down and beginning to undo the buttons of his red shirt. It was part of the inner conflict; you knew you shouldn’t be doing this  - Vince would surely kill you...and Nikki, but it felt so good. So fucking good. 

“Nikki what about Vince?” You spoke breathlessly, helping the older boy slide his shirt off his tanned shoulders. 

He only chuckled in response, stopping his work on your neck and beginning to play with the hem of your oversized t-shirt. It was all you were wearing, and common sense had kicked in enough to push his hands down when he tried to lift it above your head. 

Nikki whined, now realising that you had wanted a real answer to your question as opposed to a grunt. 

“It’ll be fine, doll. It’ll all be fine, I promise.” He smiled at you, panting and pupils blown, still sporting an undeniably coquettish expression. 

And that was all it took. Your green eyes darted towards the bunks - thankful that Nikki had the bigger room at the back of the bus. He followed your stare and stood up from his seat at the booth, sticking his hand out for you. You took it firmly, butterflies swarming in your stomach at the gesture. In a good way, of course. 

He led you to the back of the bus, the two of you making sure to be as quiet as possible. Which was pretty hard for Nikki when you groped him through his leather trousers. Originally it was for a laugh, though you couldn’t help but enjoy the reaction it got out of him. 

The door opened. The door closed. It was a split second before Nikki had pushed you on to the bed, you lifting your t-shirt up to expose yourself. All naked, except a pair of black lacy underwear. Though they were soon to disappear, too. 

Nikki reattached himself to your neck as you worked on unlacing the crotch of his trousers - which was proving to be a somewhat difficult task. You eventually managed to slip them halfway down his legs, contently watching his every move as he stood up to discard them completely. 

He stood at the side of the bed and stared at you hungrily before you put your palm on his chest to entice him back to bed. You liked it when he looked down at you like that, the proud grin on his face as he knew he had eventually gotten his way with you.

And oh god, were you glad about that.

[fangsmyth]

i’ve been meaning to analyze the shit out of his poem but..... i’m on break now so i have time

it’s prefaced as “ a poem written in free verse, based on something haunting me as of late reflecting on one of my most complicated and passionate past relationships ” so while i know for a fact i could derive MANY different meanings i’m focusing strictly on this intention

i’m normally really bad at analyzing poetry but..... for Him i will Try ( this is a lot of nonsense rambling please do not mind me i am a fucking idiot if anyone has any other onions i’d love to discuss! ....p-please do not steal;;; )

gaslighting and emotional abuse warning under the cut but who’s fucking surprised

What is the meaning of a memory? A question I oft ponder Intangible and untraceable by anything but the mind Yet so potent as to leaVe one sick As if poisoned or Wounded in a literal sense.

just kind of setting the stage i guess is the best way to call this part? his first fucking stanza is god damn terrible memories leave scars that no one can see i could’ve come up with this in my goth phase

And What meaning is there in regret and longing? Can my lamentations change the past? Will they moVe the future? Shall they amount to much more than What unmoors my here and noW?

p self explanatory imo? this goes into a bit of detail about how despite the relationship being over, he’s still thinking about it and he feels bad about what he did and how he treated them.

‘ Will they moVe the future? ’ implies that despite his regret, he doesn’t feel like he’ll learn from his mistakes since he’s made them so many times before. especially so with the next line ‘ Shall they amount to much more than What unmoors my here and noW? ’

he already feels insecure, and any future mistakes he makes are just going to contribute to that;;

If I restrict my World to that but Which is before my eyes To those Whom I may touch, to that Which I might alter; One Would no doubt conclude that thoughts of You are last among What I could consider to “matter”.

this a really interesting stanza, recognizing that the past and present don’t matter, much less any people in the past that hurt him. he knows he should be looking at the here and now, but he can’t help but feel anxious about what happened and what will happen in future relationships.

( also keep in mind that ‘You’ is capitalized, not as a part of lanque’s quirk despite how naturally it seems to fit with his quirk. i kind of ended up interpreting it how ‘You’ is capitalized like you would ‘God’ and ‘Lord’ implying lanque puts this person on an insanely high pedestal? )

it’s super interesting imo that he chooses to say ‘could’ instead of ‘should’, implying he sees it as an option to stop thinking about the other but not a necessity or, for that matter, the best option he has. 

it implies that he recognizes that he has the option to learn from his mistakes, but........

And still You haunt me yet, like a scar, like a disease uneager to abate. Who are You and Who am I, after so long Without You?

it kind of hit me at this point that despite the fact that it was something lanque was recently thinking about, it’s... possible that it wasn’t a recent relationship. he’s clearly fully submerging himself into the role of the victim in this horrible relationship with emotional abuse to the point of forced codependence.

i’m legit having a hard time telling whether this is a matter of lanque making himself out to be the victim ( as emotional vampires often do ) or the very real possibility that he honest to god was the victim of a horrible relationship that left him..... permanently scarred to the point he feels like all relationships are just SUPPOSED to be that way 

i’m gonna mainly use language that points towards the latter despite the fact that i honestly believe the more obscure and difficult to explain possibility that this is him trying to put himself in the shoes of someone he treated like garbage ( since idk i feel like he’s really good at recognizing and understanding peoples’ emotions, just not so much feeling them himself )

talking about it as if he were actually the victim just makes this a lot easier to analyze

i’m kind of...... getting ahead of myself though lemme lay down the next stanza

I knoW I don’t knoW I Won’t knoW; What do I knoW but What I knoW and What can it eVen mean to KNOW?

an allusion to gaslighting. i’m bad at writing out definitions i literally just know things my brain is huge and you’re all just jealous so to copy paste from the wikipedia google search result

Gaslighting is a form of psychological manipulation in which a person seeks to sow seeds of doubt in a targeted individual or in members of a targeted group, making them question their own memory, perception, and sanity.

i *loudly gestures* i don’t feel like i need to explain much further! going between saying he knows and doesn’t know, literally talking in circles and questioning what the concept of keeping knowledge even means!! this relationship kind of fucked him up!!!!!!

knoW, knoW; No!

kind of redundant that this line is on its own, just implies getting fed up and ready to leave?

Agh, though it so Vexes me, Though so little I Valued it When it Was before me, a thing and a You I could touch and see and knoW and hate and Wonder. (reVile/Worship).

AH HERE’S THE GOD SHIT AGAIN I KNEW IT WAS HERE SOMEWHERE!!!

lanque didn’t see this person as such a central figure when he was in the relationship, or it’s possible that he simply didn’t realize how important they were to him. their godliness implies that this person was always above him, that it was a privilege to be graced with their presence alone.

this (reVile/Worship) shit in my mind reads very similar to one of the ten commandments saying ‘we must fear and love god’ or some shit like that, but it doesn’t quite fit. it’s highly probable that it just implies that the relationship walked on a very fine tightrope between kismesis and matesprit ugh i went so long without using homestuck terms i’m sad now.... anyways this is call back to that implication of choice i was talking about earlier that’s built on more immediately

NoW it, and You, are a traceless ghost, and I preoccupy myself With nothing but futile tasks of (RE)definition and (RE)interpretation and circuitous dWellings on that Which I understand eVen less noW.

SUPER obvious but the person in the relationship is gone and lanque doesn’t know what to do without them. goes over how it’s hard for him to tell whether this is a refining of his pre-existing personality or just a brand new one all together. again, a choice as to whether or not that’s how he wants to approach it

the path to this reinvention is brought about through a bunch of rebounds and new relationships, ‘circuitous dwellings’ implying he possibly stayed in some of them for too long and he honest to god has no idea why? like he wasn’t enjoying himself, he wasn’t really being reinvented. it solidifies that it was flat out a new definition as lanque is more or less going through the motions

than in the times When my Wonderings might’Ve been so easily ansWered With a question or a bite or a kiss, or eVen a single Word, spoken honestly.

STRANGE to me how this starts as if it continues the past sentence despite the fact that it DEFINITELY ends in a period i double checked 

anyways

he also finds himself having a MUCH easier time following the motions than trying to internalize and understand this relationship. ‘wonderings’ being... pretty obviously just anxiety thoughts like you know how your brain just says things that aren’t true

and figuring out if they were would’ve been easy if he just said something or did something!!

Pressed though I am to giVe color to our bond I look not to onyx nor ash but that Which pulses Within our Very Veins: that so blinding jade, hard as the stone for Which it is so named,

interesting that this sort of starts an outline towards giving the subject an actual identity?

like specifically saying “pulses within our very veins: that so blinding jade” OBVIOUSLY says that it’s another jade in the cloister that this is about?

usually i’d like to say that writers usually don’t do this without reason but despite the praises i constantly speak alone in my room about the endless array of implications in every other thing that comes out of lanque’s mouth i also know v is a fucking hack and a got damn terrible writer

some gremlin at 3am whispered in my ear in the middle of the night saying this is about a past relationship with bronya and i did have some points but bronya is too good so i’m going to tell that gremlin to go fuck himself

tWisted and pulled hammered and forged shaped, unnaturally as if a chain.

there were so many things they went through to try and get this to work, but it kind of just came up as an obviously fucked up mess. likely considering that it would’ve ended/ran its course a lot better if they didn’t even try getting together. 

i wish every stanza was this simple

A stricture Within scriptures; a certain so meaningful tincture.

calling back to that whole “easily answered with a question, or a bite, or a kiss, or a single word spoken honestly” and those whole religious undertones that i keep pushing this solidifies that i’m not fucking crazy

GOD there’s so much in this little piece the very fact that his object of affection’s voice and words alone leave him feeling that he literally has no room to speak. the stricture is like a noose around his neck if he talks out of turn, hence the frustration that he knows something his wrong but he simply isn’t allowed to say something.

until he gets his hand on that ‘meaningful tincture’. alcohol gives him the courage to speak up and defy that gospel, alluding to his dependence on drugs and why they’re so important to him! it’s a lifestyle he wouldn’t give up because he’d hate to be silenced again!

Resent You though I must, EnVy You though I may,

emphasizing that shit i was talking about earlier with could vs. should, lanque feels like the right thing to do is look back at this in scorn. he should despise this person he idolized so much and envy how easy it was for them to lock him in such a vulnerable position for so long yet here he is..... thinking about them again

NoW leagues and leagues stretch betWeen us And I make peace With not but What I say.

these lines are pretty transparent. this was never resolved, there was never a proper conclusion to this relationship. they kind of just drifted apart, but lanque can take solace in the truth and completion of this poem. he makes peace with the fact that he acknowledges all of the problems in the relationship, and chooses to make them a part of him rather than something to just scowl and scoff at

You are only that Which is Within me, my blood and my mind and that is at once nothing, and the most elementary definition of eVerything.

i’m tired man i wrote like what 5 google drive pages about it i feel like i’d be repeating myself since this is his equivalent of wrapping it up and tying it in a lil bow

just because it happened and ultimately doesn’t matter doesn’t mean he didn’t internalize it?

this sort of ended up defining the person he became since it just shook him that badly man

do i need to go into more depth than that i just want some fucking chicken

[jasperstan408]

January 10, 2021

holy shit so much has changed and i have so much tea for myself lmao 1. i got my first job as a graphic designer!!! after months of being insecure and depressed about it, i start tomorrow!!! 2. i got my first heartbreak that isn’t A!!! Sad but exciting that it’s not him im crying over anymore. 

writing my notes from my app on here

I am so upset right now. I went over to fuck bryan in a hotel room. We had sex for 20 minutes, i didn’t even cum. He said i can be on top and then i never got the chance. And then we just laid there on opposite sides of the bed. We talked a little but mostly just watched family guy awkwardly. He kept checking stuff on his phone and then he played a game on his phone while i watched. This is just stuff i would do if i was bored or didn’t want to be where i was at the moment. Even when we sat close, he obviously just didn’t want to be there like he didn’t touch me at all. Barely talked to me. He was so distant and i hated it. I think it just triggered something in my brain that reminded me of how andy acted around me and it upset me. Ive been crying all night about it. I hate andy so fucking much. He literally ruined everything for me. Is this how it’s going to be with all men? They just want me for my pussy and nothing else? When we had sex the first time it was amazing. I felt connected and it was good. This was literally just to fuck me and be done with it. I tried to keep the conversation flowing and nothing. He didnt even ask me how my day was.

Yeah i was gonna talk to you about how you were weird and distant last night so I’m glad you noticed and its not just in my head. I’ll be honest, i dont really know what to say back. I could just tell you why im upset about this and how upset i am but i just feel like it doesnt matter what i say tbh. It’s not going to change anything. I will say you made me feel like shit. I just felt so used and unwanted last night. It was obvious you were only there to have sex and nothing else. It was such a shitty feeling for me to lay there after and have you not even notice. I didn’t pay $40 to watch family guy with you and to watch you play a game on your phone. Yeah it wasnt a relationship but if we were friends with benefits, the friendship part wasnt there. Neither were the benefits since last time i gave u a bj and this time i didnt even cum. That hurts that you feel that way because i really did like spending time with you and was excited to keep spending time with you but its also out of my control and i cant make you feel a way you dont so i guess it just sucks. 

What you are not about to fucking do is downplay how i fucking feel and try to make what you did any better. If you felt this, you felt this i dont fucking care but you had so many chances to fucking cancel and so many chances to be honest with me but you still went just to fuck me. Im not a fleshlight you can stick your dick into to hopefully forget about someone else, if there even is someone else. I cant even trust you after you lied about so much. Cincinatti and the keys and who knows what else. Dont treat me like im a fucking idiot like i didnt pick up signs that you weren’t interested anymore. If youre not interested, okay fine but dont lie to me. I thought we could get a hotel room and it would be a good time like the first time. Not have you fuck me for 5 minutes and then ignore me for another hour and a half. So dont say “we knew what we were doing when we got the hotel room” because I thought you actually wanted to spend time with me. That shit hurt and my feelings are valid. What did you think would happen? I would wake up and see your text and feel sorry for you? I would say “oh sorry you feel that way hit me up when you wanna fuck me again 😏😉😍🥺😂” we’re not gonna just be friends so you can string me along and fuck me whenever you want. I’m not anyones rebound or second choice. And dont use my fucking words against me like that. When i said “fake scenarios” i meant that I thought us sleeping together last night wouldve been fun like the first time. Not me creating a scenario where you used me. I didnt create that, thats what happened. Get the fuck out of here with that shit. 

The thing you don’t understand is that it was so out of nowhere for me. I thought you were interested and then acted like it didn’t matter if i was there or not. Waking and reading a text saying “I’m not over my ex but we can be friends” made me think you were getting back together with an ex and just wanted to soften the blow by saying we can just be friends. Like you didn’t actually want to be friends, you just were trying to make it easier on me. Idgaf about how you feel. If you’re not over your ex okay but that’s your baggage and that’s your problem and you didnt have to dump it out on me like you did that night. 

Okay so like I’ve said and like you know, I was really hurt the other night. I get everyone has their baggage and their insecurities and that’s okay but what was not okay is projecting that baggage on to me and hurting me like you did. I have my baggage with my ex and I spent so much time working through it so I don’t do this to anyone. That’s all your problem, not mine. I did like spending time with you and talking to you. I do want to be friends. We can still talk every once in a while and maybe we can hang out and smoke but I just don’t think I want to hook up or anything like that. That was just way too much and it obviously didn’t end well.

My hopes were crushed because i liked what we were doing and it sucks that it had to end so soon. I just miss talking to you and i miss that time in my life, being excited that you were in it and it just sucks that it had to end so quick. It sucks that you didn’t feel the same as me. It sucks that none of this is my fault. I cant change anything about what happened and i cant make you feel a certain way that you don’t. It’s scary that we went thru the same experience and had different feelings about it. This was all out of nowhere for me because i really thought you were into me tbh until we were in the middle of sex and i felt like something was off. And then you sat there, wouldn’t look at me or talk to me and honestly it made me think i did something wrong. You dumped your baggage on to me.

Id like to go back to how it was when we first met. We can just be friends. We can hang out every once in a while, smoke and get something to eat but obviously sleeping together isnt a good idea and i dont want to do that anymore.

Reading your message, I thought that you were saying you and your ex were getting back together and by saying “we can still talk and still be friends”, you were just trying to be nice and not hurt me i guess?

Love language is quality time

Hey can we talk?

Okay so i just kinda wanted to be open about what i think and am feeling. Im sorry if this is out of nowhere. I know this was 2 weeks ago lol i just have not had any time to talk to you. So when you first texted me the other day, I took it as “my ex and i are getting back together and i wanted to fuck someone for the last time.” Maybe I was just jumping to conclusions idk but I took you wanting to be friends and saying you wanted to talk to me like pity tbh. Like you didn’t actually want to do that, you were just saying that to soften the blow. I did like talking with you and hanging out with you. I would like to be friends but I don’t want to intrude if you’re with someone else, I feel like that’d be awkward lol

I’d like to just go back to how it was before it got messy. I’m fine with still talking and maybe someday we can smoke and get something to eat and hang out. I did like hanging out and talking with you but obviously, sleeping together isn’t a good idea and I don’t want to do that.

So I do want to talk about the other night just to get some clarity and it can stay in the past. I understand how you felt and tbh I’ve been there before too. I’ve gone on a date with a guy and the date was fine but the whole time I was just sad over my ex and it ruined things. It happens and it sucks, I get it. But the thing is, that’s your baggage that you need to deal with. Not mine but you dumped the baggage on me. I have baggage with my ex but i dealt with it and healed from it so I wouldn’t do this to anyone. My ex was the worst and that night, you were acting like him and it triggered something that made me really upset. My love language is quality time so when i hang out with someone, it’s important that they’re there with me and their attention isn’t somewhere else which is also why i got really upset.

I just remember at one point, the way you were walking or something made me flashback to him and i just wanted to leave. You’re the first guy I’ve opened up to like this since we broke up so you acting like that made me think every guy is going to be like that towards me and i got upset. I know now that’s not the truth. My love language is quality time so when I’m with someone, id like them to be there with me. To talk to me instead of being on their phones and acting like i wasnt there. Having sex with me and then ignoring me was how my ex was the last half of our relationship and it triggered something for me. That night just wasnt a good night for me. Like i said, we all have our baggage but it wasn’t okay to treat me like that. I would just like to go back to how it was when we first met. We can smoke and get something to eat but sleeping together isn’t what I want right now.

Basically, you already know, but the way you treated me wasn’t okay. I understand how you felt and I’ve been down that road too but dumping that baggage on me wasn’t okay. It made me uncomfortable and it upset me. My love language is quality time so when i do hang out with someone, I’d like them to be focused on hanging out with me but you weren’t. You were on your phone and watching tv instead which is why i got upset. Like i said before, the way you were acting reminded me of my ex and it triggered something for me which is also why i got upset. After all this, i am a human with feelings so of course I’m going to get hurt. I would like to be friends. We can still talk and maybe we can still hang out and smoke together if you’re down but obviously sleeping together isn’t a good idea right now and i dont want to so that.

I’ll be honest, the whole time you were talking to me, i just kept waiting for something like this to happen and here it is.

You’re right. You’re very confusing and obviously don’t know what you want. You made all the first moves and ended it first too. You said you wanted a friendship and i said i did too and now you dont even want that. You’re very back and forth and yeah, i dont need someone like that in my life. You aren’t listening to anything that ive said, youre just getting defensive when im trying to just talk through it. We were just fwb i get it and like ive said multiple times, thats all i wanted from you. I never saw you as a guy to meet my parents or to hang out with my friends. Just someone to fuck at the end of the night. This all got messy because of you. I’m a human with emotions so stop trying to gaslight me into making me think what i feel is wrong.

[ridiculousn3sswrites]

Wrong Number

*James Madison x Reader

*Summary: A wrong number text leads to some interesting things.

*Warnings: Maybe a swear word, idk

*A/N: I’ve been sitting on this idea for like two months now and I barely got around to writing it. I’m not dead, just busy with school. By the way, should I start adding word counts to these?

“Thomas Jefferson, I am getting ready to murder you,” you groaned as Thomas walked you back to your apartment building.

“What? All I said was the obvious,” Thomas replied with a smirk. The two of you had just gotten back from hanging out with some of his friends, where Thomas had felt the necessity to reveal your long-held single status. After that, everyone felt the need to comment on it and give you unsolicited advice. Even Aaron Burr put his two cents in, which was insulting since he never really took a stance on anything. The only one who didn’t feel the need to comment was Thomas’s friend James, who you had just met that night.

“Yeah, but you don’t need to say it in front of people I barely know!” You argued. “It’s just rude.”

“I’ll have you know that all of those guys are single, except for Aaron,” Thomas replied. “I could’ve just gotten you a date. You should be thanking me.”

“I don’t understand how you reached that far,” you said, shaking your head slightly. “That should really be a new record, Thomas.”

“Don’t say I never do anything for you,” he teased, smiling widely as you reached the building.

“Why do I keep talking to you?” You asked, shoving his shoulder playfully.

“Because you’ve known me since you moved here,” he replied simply. “See you later, (y/n).”

“Sure thing, Thomas. Try not to bite off Hamilton’s head at work tomorrow,” you told him with a hug.

“No promises,” he laughed. With that, you both separated and you made your way up to your apartment. While he was a pain in your ass, Thomas was right: he’s been your friend since you first moved to New York and you’d been through too much with him to drop him now. You were ready to just relax and get ready for the next day. It seemed the world didn’t want that though, because as soon as you closed the door behind you, your phone dinged with a notification.

From: Unknown 1 minute ago

You really shouldn’t have given her such a hard time. She was obviously uncomfortable.

The text confused you, especially with how vague it was. Normally you would just leave wrong number texts alone (unless the person got unnecessarily hostile), but you don’t know what came over you. You just chalked it down to Thomas getting inside your head, try as you might to prevent that.

To: Unknown Now

I think you might have the wrong number?

You expected that to be the last of it, so you began going around your apartment, tidying up a bit. You had to admit that you were procrastinating, not ready to admit that you had to go to work the next day. As you started wiping down the counters, your phone went off again.

From: Unknown Now

Thomas? You’re not screwing with me, right?

To: Unknown Now

Yeah, sorry, I’m not Thomas.

From: Unknown Now

I’m so sorry, I don’t save any numbers to my phone so I think I got mixed up.

To: Unknown Now

That’s alright, maybe you should start saving them lol

That was the last text you sent that night, hoping that the unknown texter found his or her friend. The next day went without incident, and you had nearly forgotten about the texts. It wasn’t until Thomas had texted you later that night that you were reminded of the mysterious texter. You scrolled through the slightly awkward messages, and with a sudden lack of impulse, you sent a new message.

To: Unknown Seconds ago

Hey, did you ever find your friend’s number?

From: Unknown Now

Oh, hey, yeah, I did.

You smiled at the text, putting your phone down for now. You knew it was weird, and normally you wouldn’t, but for some reason you wanted to keep texting that unknown number. It was a cliche, really, expecting anything to come from making friends with the unknown texter. In all realness, it was more likely that you’d end up blocked rather than anything happening.

From: Unknown Now

I’m James, by the way.

Or maybe not.

You and James started talking regularly after that, much to your surprise. You figured that it would end up like most of your internet friendships: dead after a week. You also found out that you and James had a lot in common, from your shared affinity for Broadway to the willingness to step in if you saw someone was being made uncomfortable. Slowly you found yourself looking forward to James’s texts, so much so that even Thomas began to notice.

“Alright, that’s it, I’m taking your phone away,” Thomas said, plucking it out of your hands as he settled onto the couch beside you. You scrambled to get it back, but he kept it just out of arm’s reach.

“What? Why? Thomas, c’mon, dude, give it back,” you said, still trying to get your phone from him.

“No, it’s movie night, (y/n)!” Thomas responded. “What’re you even doing on there that’s got you so hung up?”

“I’ve been texting someone,” you admitted. You immediately regretted it the second you saw Thomas’s stupid grin growing. “Shut up!”

“I haven’t even said anything,” Thomas defended himself. “But is this someone someone I should know about?”

“No, he’s not,” you said. “We’ve just been talking.”

“Oh, so it is a he! How’d you meet him?” Thomas asked, infinitely more interested in the possibility of your love life than whatever movie the two of you were going to watch for the hundredth time. “Was it work?”

“No, you know I hate everyone that I work with,” you said. Thomas nodded, acknowledging the well-known fact. “It was actually a wrong number text and we kinda just started talking from then on.” You looked at Thomas sheepishly, whose face had turned into one of shock. It wasn’t until your phone clattered to the floor that Thomas snapped out of it.

“Excuse me?” Thomas asked. He had schooled his features to look a little less shocked, but the shock was still there nonetheless. “(Y/n), for all you know, you could be talking to a serial killer.”

“Good thing I know a great lawyer to put him away then, huh?” You tried joking, but Thomas was having none of it. “Jokes, jokes!”

“That’s not something to joke about, (y/n),” Thomas scolded you. “But really, a random number? I’ve supported your online dating thing, but that’s a bit too far.”

“Oh come on, Thomas! He’s just a friend!” You argued. “Plus, if it were up to you, I’d be dating someone you could keep an eye on.”

“Uh, yeah,” Thomas deadpanned. “Then I would know when to step in if he wasn’t treating you right. C’mon, (y/n), you’re a rational woman. You should know this sounds crazy.”

“I’ll admit, it does sound a bit crazy, but he’s a really nice guy,” you tried appealing to the side of Thomas that just wanted the best for you. It didn’t work. Thomas just shook his head, his disapproval evident in his body language. The two of you continued with your movie night, Thomas not bringing up the situation anymore.

“Have you ever considered meeting the guy?” Thomas asked a few weeks later when you met him for lunch.

“What?” You asked, looking up from your phone. James had a few minutes free for his lunch break, so you were taking advantage of it.

“Wow, I’m feeling neglected here.” Thomas rolled his eyes, pointing his fork at you. “But have you considered meeting the guy?”

“No, we haven’t exactly talked about that, you know?” You told him. “I thought you were against me talking to him?”

“Because you obviously listened to me,” Thomas sassed. “I figured that if you’re not going to listen to your best friend, I might as well make sure you’re being safe about this.”

“Wow, the Southern Sass™ is too much for me to handle,” you joked. “But I’m glad you’re warming up to the idea.”

“So you admit you are thinking of him like that!” Thomas crowed successfully.

“Shut up!” You laughed, not denying it.

To: James Five minutes ago

What do you think about maybe meeting up one day?

From: James Two minutes ago

I’d definitely love to meet you! Maybe we could go see a show

From: James Seconds ago

My treat, of course

You and James began making real plans to meet each other soon after, under Thomas’s close supervision. Thomas was starting to warm up to the idea of you meeting James, as long as you would take him along. About a week before you were supposed to meet James in person, Thomas decided to drag you out with his friends once again.

“Can you get off of your phone for once?” Thomas asked as the two of you walked into the bar. “I’m sure he’ll understand.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you brushed him off. Thomas just shook his head, looking around for his friend. He spotted James at a table in the back and took your hand leading you over there.

“Really, you too?” Thomas asked in exasperation when he noticed James on his phone. “Why are both of my friends attached to their phones?”

“It seems like you need more friends then,” you joked.

“It’s always nice to see you too, Thomas,” James laughed.

“Whatever,” Thomas huffed. “(Y/n), I’m sure you remember James?”

“Yeah, of course. He’s the only one that was nice to me when you were being a dick,” you teased, holding your hand out for James to take. “It’s nice to see you, James.”

“You too, (y/n),” James replied with a smile. You and Thomas took your seats, James getting up to go grab some drinks for you both. Thomas was watching both you and James carefully, already starting to connect some of the dots in his mind. He watched as you sent a text, looking over to James and seeing him smiling at something on his phone. Thomas then watched as James texted something else, looking over to you as you smiled at the new message on your phone.

“Oh,” Thomas let out, almost unknowingly. You looked up at him, arching a brow. Thomas just waved you off, already thinking of ways to prove his suspicion. “Hey, what’s that guy’s name again?”

“James,” you replied, sending another text.

“Interesting,” Thomas said as James took his seat, placing the drinks in front of you and Thomas. Thomas watched James look at his phone once again, smiling at the new text. He watched the both of you text back and forth for a few minutes before he couldn’t take it anymore. As he abruptly stood, he took the phones out of both yours and James’s hands.

“Dude!”

“Thomas!” James protested at the same time.

“You guys are clearly blind,” Thomas said. He pocketed the phones, holding up a hand for the two of you to listen before you got upset. “(Y/n), what’s the name of that guy you’ve been texting?”

“His name is James, why?” You asked, clearly not seeing where Thomas was going with this.

“Okay, this apparently isn’t as clear as I thought it was,” Thomas muttered to himself, running a hand over his face. “James, you’ve been on your phone a lot more than usual. Who have you been texting?”

“A girl,” James responded, staying vague.

“The name, James,” Thomas demanded.

“(Y/n),” he reluctantly provided. Thomas stared at the two of you, hoping that would be enough for you to connect the dots yourselves. When you didn’t, Thomas let out an exaggerated sigh.

“Really? You guys aren’t seeing this?” Thomas asked, met by blank stares. “Here, let me make it clear. (Y/n), meet James, the guy you’ve been texting. James, meet (y/n), the girl you’ve been texting.”

“You’re?” You asked, turning to James.

“And you’re?” James asked in return.

“Alright, my job here is done,” Thomas said, putting the phones back on the table. “I’ll be calling the both of you tomorrow, so watch yourself, James.” With that, Thomas gave you a hug and left the bar, leaving you and James to talk.

“You know, that first text makes a lot of sense now,” you joked.

“Yeah, I guess it does,” James laughed. “I was trying to tell off Thomas for making you uncomfortable, but I guess that didn’t exactly happen.”

“I can’t believe neither of us pieced it together without Thomas,” you told him.

“I guess something good did come from that night,” James replied. “You want to get out of here and do something?”

“Yeah, let’s go,” you said, getting your bag and standing up. James followed, taking your hand as he led you into the New York streets.

“And I can fully take credit for getting these two together,” Thomas bragged, his champagne glass held close as he gave his speech. You and James shared a look, and you had to hold in your laughter as James rolled his eyes. “But seeing my two best friends here on their wedding day is well worth the frustration they put me through.”

Thomas’s speech was met with loud applause, and the pleased smile he shot you and James was enough to make you actually laugh. “You know, I’m really glad I didn’t save numbers before,” James told you, taking your hand and bringing it to his mouth to brush a kiss along your knuckles.

“You really should start doing that,” you teased.

“Your number is the only one I need saved,” James replied smoothly, making you melt just a little. You knew that he was serious, if only slightly, but that just proved even more that you had made the right decision in answering that wrong number text.

[thelambsofiscariot]

[ give me the juicy tidbits of serial killer!gradeus' m.o.... what kind of serial killer is he~? usual victims~? a stressor that got him to start killing~? GIVE ME ALL THEM TIDBITS I LOVE CRIMINALS... er well not love. i'm /fascinated/ by serial killers so... ye B) also this is to build a working profile for raskreia /shot ]

ooc: Ohhh boy. Gradeus. I want to give him a last name for the sake of his human AU… Anastos? Gradeus Anastos. Sounds good enough. Man, idk where to start, really, but I’ll start with the basic ideas swirling around in my head and dump them out onto the answer. 

I put it under the cut because yeah… long story. And don’t read if you don’t like murdery things, obviously.

Typical stuff: started young. The whole “torturing and killing animals” thing, except it wasn’t just the typical bird he found lying on the ground, or burning down anthills. His family had multiple dogs and cats, so that was easy access to him. He was just always an angry child. So many things he didn’t like about the world — he got pissed when something went off schedule, when something didn’t go his way, or when his parents tried to get on his case. But Gradeus got smart while he was a kid; he knew that there was no way he was going to jump on his father, a man of almost 6 feet tall, or even his mother. Too big, too strong, too fast for him. He was a wiry little thing… and short. Size has always been a big thing for him. It’s a matter of insecurity, really.

But dogs and cats couldn’t argue or fight back. He never drew blood at first because that’s obvious. The parents are going to see, and he’s going to get his arse kicked because one cut? Fine, but so many collecting over time? Yeah, they’re going to know it’s him, and he’s not going to get himself caught like that. He doesn’t even start, because he’s smart enough to know that if he begins, he probably won’t stop. He sticks to throwing blunt objects at the pets, physically kicking them around, picking them up and throwing them as hard as he can, and dumping their food out for days on end when his mum tells him to feed them. Nothing too far, nothing that they can’t tank. He’s a small boy, after all.

Then he really goes far one day when he’s just pissed off beyond normal. Probably around pre-teens. I figure he’s probably the bully type… goes after kids younger than him., because he doesn’t know how to pick on anyone his own size or bigger. He’s a special kind of a coward, one that knows how to get what he wants. And he doesn’t feel bad about being a coward, either. As long as things end up how he likes them, why should he care about how he goes about doing them?

So like. He’s just pissed off because he can’t get to the kid he’s trying to tear apart. Because the kid has a mouth to tell on him with. He goes home, seeing red, and one of the bigger dogs nip at his hand for food — and oh, how could he have forgotten! Isn’t that convenient that the dogs and the cats can’t tell on him like little human boys do? 

So he spills blood for the first time. Kicks the dog into the backyard and really goes all out. Throws rocks at the poor thing. Steps on it with all his weight. Clubs it until it cries. Because this time is different — this time he’s picked up a knife from the cutting board on the counter on his way out. This time he intends to kill. The dog claws at his face and leaves a huge scar across his skin, and that just pisses him off even more. The damn thing is definitely dead after that, for daring to fight back when it should’ve just cowered and sat it through.

Anyway, his new scar is a good excuse. He can tell his mum that the dog attacked him, and that’s why he had to defend himself. She’ll look past it, because he’s her precious lil boy.

And man, he can’t stop after that. He just keeps thinking about it. There was just something so addicting about stabbing something breathing and alive, and watching the life drain out of it. Seeing it helpless and shivering, slowly bleeding to death and unable to do anything about it… because of him. He has that much power. And isn’t that an amazing thing?

He starts looking into it more. He quickly becomes an avid fan of anatomy, and suddenly crime shows are all that much more interesting. He’d been fairly fascinated with the concept of death beforehand, and was always a violent kid… but now the interest in these subjects has upped tenfold, and teeters on the edge of obsession. He tones it down with the bigger animals that his family come into contact with just as much as he does, and begins going to out seek and capture smaller, more vulnerable animals. Spiders? Good to pull their legs off of and watch them squirm. Frogs? Slimy, ugh, but good enough. Birds? Whenever he can get his hands on them. And the real prizes are the stray kittens and pups that can easily be lured in by the promise of a snack…

But Gradeus has to learn quickly to play the part of the innocent little boy, because his mother of all people is starting to clue in on things. Stupid woman can’t keep her nose out of everything, like she’s supposed to. So he learns to fall into a role: he doesn’t play an entirely pure character, because that sort of back and forth is hard to do. There’s no way he can do a 180, switch from his usual angry self to an angelic personality. That’s just asking for trouble… so coming off as the hot-tempered, but endearingly so, guy with a heart of gold will have to do.

For a while, he plays it safe. He gets that what he’s doing isn’t really… normal. But does he care? Nah. As long as you’re not caught, it’s whatever, right?

He doesn’t know how the notion of murdering a human being starts to grow in his head. But somewhere along the line, the seed must have been planted, because the temptation grows stronger every day. Looking at the kids in his class, visualising it… it doesn’t do enough for him. He desperately wants to have that feeling of being able to plunge a knife through something soft and alive again.

So he starts planning, without knowing when it’s going to happen — just that it will someday, and so he might as well prepare.

His usual victims tend to be girls, but he’s expanding beyond that. He’s really picky about the types of girls he goes after, too — he likes them screaming, but not… pathetic screaming. He’d prefer the kind of girl who kicks and shrieks and really tries to escape, rather than one who’s just begging their way out of a situation. Granted… he’s not against the begging, but if it happens too fast, then there’s really no reward. He always feels most comfortable with the girls. They’re not too tall, they’re not too strong, and they’re a lot softer and more delicate than men are. Most of them can be overpowered easily, even with his stature.

Boys? Now, that’s a problem, because Gradeus might have strength… but there’s a lot higher risk there, because even the dumbest jock can flip him over. He picks boys wiry and thin. Smart is fine — but he’s controlling, hates it when he doesn’t know what’s going to happen. He wants to have the thrill and the adrenaline of the chase and of physically subduing the victim, but he does not ever, ever choose a victim where he is not 100% sure that he will succeed. It drives him insane if he knows he doesn’t have the upper ground, or will have it eventually. He desperately needs it. That’s the enjoyment factor for him, and he’s also just obsessive about having things go his way… he doesn’t necessarily enjoy unpredictability. He wants victims to surprise and to impress him, but there’s a hard limit about how clever someone can be until they go from amusing him to pissing him off.

And honestly? Anything pisses him off. He’ll be fine with one thing one day, and the next he completely goes berserk at that exact same thing. It’s like he’s looking for reasons to get angry… of course, in the real and working world, and at school, he’s not allowed to show that outwardly. He just has to simmer slowly in his anger… but when he has a victim with him long term, there is no telling what is going to set him off. He likes to treat his prey like they’re for his personal use. Clean the kitchen, stand in the corner and stare at the wall for a few hours, do this and that. Whatever he says goes. He’s really all about that control — and if it’s broken, even in the slightest, most unintended ways, he goes insane. Even if you do everything he says, cross the T’s and dot the i’s… there’s going to be something in your body language he doesn’t like. Something that nags him even if you do everything perfectly. His mind is constantly telling him he needs more control, and it’s getting to be an unreasonable amount.

Otherwise… he just enjoys pain. Inflicting it, emotionally and physically. Watching a victim fall apart slowly when they’ve got no access to any typical human luxuries or necessities. People really fall apart quickly and splendidly when they’ve got no food, barely any water, and not even a pot to piss in. Watching them lose their minds is fantastic.

And then there’s just the killing itself. He just likes stabbing things that are alive until they’re, well. Not. And he really prides himself on not being a killer who does the same old boring thing all the time, either. He’ll try it all. He’s gouged out some eyes, and sewn some lips together. Some while the victim’s already dead, and some while they’re… not.

He’s got some principles though. No cannibalism for him. Albert Fish is not a role model of his, thank you very much.