#im too lazy to do more than this. its too much work

[ot3showdown]

hi, are you still going to release the submissions that didn't make it into the original tournament? I understand if not, but I'm kind of uncreative and would love to comb through them for stuff that makes me go "oh, of course!" in lieu of having to think of stuff to submit myself this time around

I warn you. There is literally over a thousand responses. Good Luck.

This is just the responses that I got as an anonymous spreadsheet. Only the write ins are included.

[chiquilines]

Mina costume redesign!! Hate her original costume so so much like actually what the fuck was horikoshi thinking

[nomairuins]

anyways sry its not srs eventually ill get it together . and be a person again. one day

[gay-fordeath]

.

[bl00dh0rs3]

It is so fucking funny how someone telling me to do something is the fastest and easiest way to get me to want to Actively grind my life back to halt instead.

[serpentine-owl]

Honestly, this one is tricky for me. I completely understand where op is coming from, I've had a similar thought in the past (especially the addition about coining new terms). I think for me personally my aroace identities is just that; two separate identities that happen to overlap and compliment the other, such that they fall into one another to come under one label.

Sometimes I'll say that I'm aroace. Other times it'll be asexual. Occasionally it's aromanitc. (Most of the time it's simply queer). All three of these identities cause me to think about and interact with the world in vastly different ways. How I think about things as an asexual person is different to how I think about things as an aromantic person, which is different to how I think about things as an aroace person. I have different thoughts depending on my perspective. Sometimes these thoughts are coherent across my identities, and sometimes there's conflict. Because of this, I can't claim that they're the same thing for me. They're different, but I don't think I could fully understand any one of them in isolation.

Conceptualizing Aroace Identity

Something that has always frustrated me as an aroace is the way aroace identity is portrayed or conceptualized by other people. I think most of us would agree that being aroace isn’t always as simple as “I’m both aromantic and asexual.” There are an infinite number of ways to conceptualize one’s own aroace identity, and it’s going to be different for every person.

The relationship between my aromanticism and my asexuality is constantly shifting, so there’s a chance I’ll read this post tomorrow and feel differently, but personally I’m uncomfortable framing my aroace-ness as a duality. You see, being aroace is weird. Because in some ways, aromanticism and asexuality are two sides of the same coin, in the same way that panromanticism and pansexuality are. But in some ways, they’re also opposites, and because of the aspec community’s (understandable) use of the SAM, people don’t often think of being aroace as a single unit. Aroaces, due to the nature of aspec identity and community, are the only perioriented people who are expected to frame our identity in terms of the SAM. And to some extent, I understand why that is. Aromanticism and asexuality are different, and I would never try to argue that they’re the same thing. But I think for a lot of aroace people, they are the same, or at least they’re part of a single whole, rather than a conglomeration of two independent identities. For many of us, we’re not aro/ace, or aro and ace, we’re aroace. The distinction, at least to me, matters.

There are a lot of ways to think of aroace identity, and for me personally, I’m comfortable calling myself either just aro, or specifically aroace as a unit; I don’t at all vibe with identifying solely as ace, even if I do consider myself ace. I realize that’s strictly personal, and there are many aroaces who feel the exact opposite. I’m not trying to insinuate that any way of conceptualizing one’s aroace identity is better or more valid than any other; identity is personal. I do, however, think that there is a conversation we’re not having, and that’s how to carve out aroace spaces, especially as aro and ace communities rightfully become more and more distinct. Full disclosure, I spend most of my time in aro spaces (hence this blog), and I consider my aromanticism a more impactful part of my identity than my asexuality. But they’re still connected, and I think that intersection is important.

So here’s my hot take: aroace can be a non-SAM identity.

“But Techno!” you may be crying out, “How can aroace be a non-SAM identity if it inherently has both aro and ace in it?”

The short answer is that we can use language to mean whatever we want it to mean. The long answer is I just don’t think it’s fair that we should have to conceive of our romantic and sexual orientations as different when they don’t feel different, when no other perioriented people have to do that. So maybe being aroace doesn’t have to be inherently predicated on the SAM. Personally, I do find the SAM useful in some ways, but that mostly has to do with community relations and less to do with how being aroace actually feels to me. It’s a blurry distinction for a lot of us. So let’s carve out spaces where it’s allowed to be blurry. Being aroace is a uniquely positioned identity, and we should embrace that, and use the language we have in the way that makes the most sense for us, individually.

Other aroaces, please chime in with your thoughts. How do you personally conceptualize your identity?

(I would ask that if you’re not aroace, you please refrain from commenting, but reading and reblogging this would still be much appreciated!)

[snekdood]

i just feel like if you cant debate someone w/o insulting them then you're kinda just using it as an outlet for all of your asshole-ness

[be-good-to-bugs]

well. back to the horrors

[junislqve]

afterglow ✶ jake

𝓢. you didn’t realize how much you still needed him, luckily he’s always been yours.

pairs ex!jake x reader content kissing profanity angst fluff self indulgent hooray not proofread wordcount 681 CATALOGUE

well i got lazy to proofread 🙁 thought of jake biting bread while writing this maybe im a little sick

REBLOG if you enjoyed!

you didn’t know how you ended up at this situation. sprawled on jake’s lap as he he held you in place, his hands firmly gripping your waist.

all you could remember was a few hours ago you got a call from jake’s sister, begging you to check up on jake as he wasn’t picking up her calls.

you knew she had been busy lately, packed with work and her engagement she barely had any time to do anything else.

so with a heavy heart, you walk up to the apartment you know all-too-well. up the elevator you’ve stepped in countless times, every corner haunting you with memories.

and just as you braced yourself to knock on his door, it clicked open.

jake raised his head, his eyes meeting yours.

“y/n?”

“hi” your voice was hoarse, you cleared up your throat “missed me?”

after putting out his trash jake invited you in, his place was dimly lit. it was midnight, you didn’t expect any less.

“your sister’s worried about you” you voice out, looking around. not much has changed, the place looked neat, untouched almost. “you should answer her calls” you turn to him, his eyes were already on you.

“my phone broke”

“you should tell her that”

the silence engulfed you both. it wasn’t uncomfortable, but you grew accustomed to it, trying to avoid him anyway.

you knew he was fine, you could already leave now. his sister didn’t ask for anything more than just confirmation that be was alive and well.

“why’d you leave?”

you had it coming.

“what?”

“it was great between us, i thought we were going to be together for long. i thought you loved me”

truth be told, you knew you were selfish. you knew the reason you both had broken up was just because you felt like you were going to suffocate him in the future. it was just a lingering feeling inside of you that couldn’t have left you alone.

so you made up a dumb excuse just to get it over with. just so he couldn’t hurt you before you did.

“i do” true. “i did” false. “it wasn’t-“

you felt it in motion when the power went out and everything went dark. it was pitch black, and the living room had no windows for sunlight.

out of panic, you yelp when you felt a warm hand slide its way towards your waist, your first thought was to push it.

and that brings us to the top.

you couldn’t tell how far jake’s face was from yours but maybe the warm breath on your lips could give you an idea. your arms were planted on his shoulders as his were on your waist.

“the power’s out” he mumbles

“yeah no shit sherlock” it was supposed to come out more sarcastic but barely made past a whisper.

jake’s thumb rubbed smoothing circles on your exposed skin, the warmth from his hand spreading through every corner of your body.

“jake”

he hums, his voice low. it reverberated all throughout your body, lingering.

“i still love you”

and that’s all that it takes for him to trail his hands up to cup your jaw. his lips moving against yours in a rhythm. his lips were soft, you forgot how much you missed this.

he was passionate, savoring every inch of your lips. the taste of your cherry lip gloss addicting to him.

his other hand raised to the nape of your neck, as yours circled his, tugging at his loose hair.

you both only let go when it was hard to breath. face flushed even it you both couldn't see it, chest heaving.

and you felt like it was a shame that you couldn’t see his rose-tinted cheeks and his pink lips. and maybe how blown out his eyes were.

jake only chuckled softly a few seconds later, his head landing on your shoulder.

“i missed you” he says, mumbling against your clothes, his grip on your waist, tightening.

and maybe at that moment you realized you’d give it all up for him once again.

© junislqve 2024. liking, commenting, and rebloging are appreciated.

[the-winter-spider]

Say Don't Go | Part One

Pairings: College!Hockey star Bucky x Reader AU

Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings: Nothing really, pining, slight angst,

A/N: Yall, I can't stop with these AU, once i branched out from typical bucky fics 😅 im not sure if this is ant good, lemme know!

The arena is already buzzing as the hockey team files into the rink, everyone pumped for the big game. The team’s warming up, and from where you stand by the bench—water bottles in hand—you can feel the energy building. You’d taken the part-time photography job with the team to help cover college tuition, although at the beginning of the game you felt like a glorified water girl and while it meant juggling practices, games, and studying, it kept you close to your best friend, Steve.

To anyone watching, it would’ve seemed impossible that you and Steve grew up together. He’s a campus legend now, all bulked-up muscle and effortless charisma, captain of the university’s hockey team and the kind of guy people gravitate to without question. Meanwhile, you’re more comfortable with your nose in a book, an introvert who’s used to blending in. But back when you were kids, Steve was this tiny, sickly kid, the one no one really noticed—except for you. He’d always been your closest friend, even back then when it seemed like he’d never catch a break, and you’d been at his side through every scraped knee and cold. Loyalty was everything to Steve.

A couple of the guys on the team stop by to grab water, giving you nods and smiles as they pass. No one messes with you—everyone knows you’re off-limits, thanks to Steve. And that has its perks; it’s like you’re part of this little family, even if you’re not quite one of them. But lately, there’s been someone who’s become more than just another player in your eyes.

You glance up from refilling water bottles just in time to see Bucky Barnes, who’s over by the goal, tugging at his helmet strap. He catches you looking and grins, that easy, almost lazy smile that seems to light up his face effortlessly. You quickly look away, hoping he didn’t notice the warmth creeping up your cheeks.

“Hey, you ready for tonight?” Steve’s voice breaks into your thoughts, and you turn to see him lacing up his skates. He’s grinning, eyes alight with the confidence he’s built over years of hard work.

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” you reply with a small smile, trying to shake off the flutter in your chest from Bucky’s look.

Steve nudges you with his shoulder. “You know, sometimes I still can’t believe you’re here, working with the team.”

“Oh yeah?” you tease. “You think you’re too cool for me now, Rogers?”

He rolls his eyes but laughs, shaking his head. “Nah, no way. Just crazy to think back when I was the scrawniest kid on the block, you were the only one who’d even talk to me. And look at us now.”

“No Stevie…look at you,” you correct, smiling softly. “Captain of the hockey team. Practically a celebrity, im proud of you”

Steve shrugs, like it doesn’t matter much. “You’re still the one who got me here, you know. Can’t imagine doing this without you.”

It’s moments like these that remind you how much history you and Steve have. To everyone else, he’s untouchable, this strong, confident leader. But to you, he’s still that scrappy kid from Brooklyn who’d rather eat dirt than back down from a fight. And even now, with a dozen people depending on him, he still looks out for you like you’re his whole world.

“Good luck, Captain,” you say, giving him a small, sincere smile as he heads out onto the ice to join the team.

Just before he steps out, Steve pauses, glancing over his shoulder, and gives you a reassuring nod. “Stick around after, alright? You know Bucky would give me hell if you didn’t watch the whole game” There’s a gleam in his eye, something teasing but knowing.

You brush it off with a laugh, shaking your head as he skates off. But that feeling lingers as you turn back to your work, the excitement of the game mixing with something deeper. Because as much as you’re here for Steve, and of course the job..lately, there’s another reason that’s making these nights by the rink more important than ever.

As the game ramps up, you pull out your camera, leaning against the rink’s edge with your viewfinder pressed to your eye. You know deep down that you most likely got this job because of Steve, and it sometimes made you feel inferior that you didn’t get it all on your own accord, anything from Steve would never be malicious, self doubt was a bitch but any chance you get to shoot action shots is another step toward building your portfolio. Tonight, you’re focused, capturing every pass, every block, and, of course, every time Steve goes for a breakaway. But your camera always seems to find Bucky, catching him mid-skate, the intensity in his blue eyes as he lines up for a shot.

And every time he scores, it’s like he can’t help himself—he glances over to where you’re standing, as if he knows exactly where you’ll be. The crowd roars, girls scream his name, yet his gaze always cuts through the chaos, landing right on you for the briefest second before he skates back to his teammates. Each time, your heart stumbles a little, caught off-guard by that piercing blue gaze aimed right at you.

By the end of the game, the team secures a solid win, and the whole arena is alive with celebration. You’ve filled your camera’s memory with shots of the guys looking their best—sweaty, fierce, and triumphant—and even snagged a few shots of Steve and Bucky grinning like maniacs after a particularly close goal. Steve catches your eye from the ice and gives you a thumbs-up, the proud smile on his face making you grin back.

Later, you find yourself at the local bar with the team and some of their friends, the usual spot they head to after a victory. You sit near the back with your drink, watching everyone laugh and trade stories, your camera resting on the table with the freshly captured game photos. Bucky comes over with that same easy, confident grin, sliding into the seat beside you.

“Got some good shots of me tonight?” he teases, tipping his head toward the camera. “You always get my best angles, you know.”

You laugh, rolling your eyes. “Oh, don’t worry, Barnes. I think I got more than enough.”

“Oh yeah? And what do you think?” He leans in, his eyes warm and focused, his voice low. “Did I look good out there?”

Your cheeks flush under his attention, and you struggle to keep your cool. “Not bad, I guess,” you say, trying to be casual. “You only scored three times.”

He chuckles, but his gaze doesn’t leave yours, and you can feel your heart race in that silence that falls between you. There’s something unspoken, a magnetic pull that’s hard to ignore, and for a second, it’s like there’s no one else in the bar.

But the spell breaks when a girl from campus sidles up to Bucky, placing a hand on his shoulder with an almost possessive familiarity. “Bucky! Great game tonight,” she purrs, leaning in close. Bucky turns, flashing her the same easy smile he gave you, and you feel your stomach twist as he starts talking to her, his attention sliding away from you as if nothing happened. He’s charming, just as he is with you, and within seconds, he’s laughing with her, seemingly forgetting you’re even there.

You try to ignore the knot in your chest, focusing on the rim of your glass, but it’s impossible not to notice every time Bucky laughs with her or throws a charming smile in her direction. Other girls come up to him, too, congratulating him and throwing flirty glances, and he returns them all with that same, familiar ease. Each one feels like a little twist of the knife, a reminder that maybe you’re not as special as you thought. The way he looked at you on the rink, those lingering gazes, feels like a cruel joke now, just part of his routine.

When Steve finds you later, you’re staring down at your drink, trying to keep your emotions in check. He slides into the seat beside you, casting a glance over at Bucky, who’s still surrounded by admirers.

“Don’t let him get to you,” Steve says quietly, his eyes understanding. “Bucky…he’s got a lot to figure out, okay? Don’t take it personally.”

You nod, offering a half-hearted smile, but it doesn’t stop the sting. Because as much as you know Bucky’s reputation, you can’t help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, there was something real behind those looks he kept throwing your way. The kind of look that makes it impossible not to hope for more.

As you watch the guys celebrate the win, Natasha walks into the bar, her presence immediately drawing attention. She’s the girl Steve has been quietly in love with since freshman year, and one of the few people you trust implicitly. Unlike most of the girls on campus, Natasha is genuinely kind to you, never making you feel out of place even though you’re close with the hockey team. She greets you with a warm hug before heading toward the bar, and you see Steve’s gaze shift, his usual confidence faltering as he looks at her like she’s the only person in the room.

You decide it’s time to head out and catch Steve’s attention. “Hey, I think I’m gonna call it a night,” you say, giving him a small smile.

He immediately looks concerned. “You want me to walk you back? It’s late.”

But you catch his gaze drifting toward Natasha, and you can’t help but smile, nudging him. “Go get your girl, Rogers. I’ll be fine.”

Steve grins, his cheeks a little red. “Text me as soon as you get back, alright? Do you still have Find My Friends on?”

“Of course,” you reply with a reassuring smile. “Go on, best of luck.” He wraps you in a tight hug, then heads toward Natasha, glancing back once to make sure you’re okay before diving into a conversation with her.

As you step outside into the chilly night, you take a deep breath, feeling the evening air wash over you. The night is quiet, and you pull your jacket a little tighter as you begin walking back to your dorm. But just as you’re a few steps away, the bar door jingles, and you hear someone calling your name.

Turning around, you see Bucky rushing out, his eyes meeting yours with a playful glint. “You’re just gonna leave like that?” he asks, jogging up to you.

You cross your arms, smirking. “What are you doing? Aren’t you busy flirting with Tiffany?”

He lets out a short laugh, rolling his eyes. “Tiffany? She doesn’t matter to me”

Your stomach does a flip as he says that, and you’re sure he can see the blush creeping up your cheeks, as you breath out loudly “Okay….Why are you here then?”

“Because I saw you leave,” he says simply, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “And what, you thought I’d just let you walk back alone?”

“Oh, so Steve sent you?” you tease, raising an eyebrow.

“Nope,” he says, grinning. “Steve’s a little preoccupied locking lips with a certain redhead in the corner.”

That makes you laugh. “Well, then, I guess I should thank you for taking up the duty.”

He smiles, taking 3 long strides meeting your side “Its not a duty, its an honour”

You were thankful it was a little chilly so the red rising to your cheeks you could play off as coldness from the slight breeze. As you begin to walk side by side, Bucky shrugs out of his varsity hockey jacket and drapes it over your shoulders without a word. The scent of his cologne lingers in the fabric, warm and familiar, and you feel a surge of warmth not just from the jacket but from the gesture itself.

“So,” you say as you fall into step together, “your parents must be proud, huh? Star hockey player, university scholarship…”

Bucky’s expression falters slightly, his usual confidence slipping away. “My parents don’t care much about that kind of stuff,” he admits, his tone soft. “They don’t really… get it. Never come to games or anything.”

You glance over at him, surprised by his honesty. He rarely opens up, and you’re struck by the vulnerability in his voice. “I’m sorry, Bucky,” you say quietly, feeling a pang in your chest. “I didn’t know.”

He shrugs, brushing it off like it’s nothing, but there’s a sadness in his eyes that lingers. “It’s alright. Doesn’t matter much to me anymore. Great friends and company make up for it.”

You nod, feeling the weight of his words. “I get it, you know? My parents could care less about me or anything I do. It sucks, but as long as I have Steve…” You smile sadly, wishing things could be different.

Bucky raises an eyebrow. “You two are close.”

“He’s always been there,” you reply, glancing ahead at the dimly lit campus path. “Steve, hes been there through everything, no one knows me or my story better than him...he was the only one who stayed by my side.”

Bucky nods, but a flicker of something crosses his face. “Good friends are important,” he says, his voice low.

You look at him, curious about the thoughts behind his guarded expression. “Yeah, they really are,” you agree, sensing an unspoken weight between you.

Bucky runs a hand through his hair, his usual easygoing demeanor giving way to something more serious. “You just… never know who’ll be there when it counts, you know?”

“True,” you reply, your mind drifting to the fleeting moments of connection that seem so rare in college. “Sometimes it feels like everyone’s just looking out for themselves.”

He nods slowly, his eyes drifting to the ground. “Yeah, exactly.” Bucky stops walking, his gaze focused on the ground. “You deserve someone who’s there for you, not just when it’s convenient,” he says, almost to himself. “You’re too good for that.”

You swallow hard, your heart racing at the implications of his words. “What about you, Bucky? You deserve that too.”

He meets your gaze, and for a moment, the air between you feels charged with something unspoken. “Yeah, but I don’t really do that whole… relationship thing,” he admits, the usual bravado in his voice replaced by something softer.

“Why not?” you ask, curiosity bubbling to the surface.

Bucky runs a hand through his hair, frustration flickering across his features. “It’s complicated. I don’t want to hurt anyone, and I don’t know how to do that without messing it up.”

“Is that why you flirt with every girl in the room?” you tease lightly, trying to lighten the mood, but there’s an edge to your voice that betrays your discomfort.

Bucky chuckles but it’s humorless. “It’s easier to keep things casual. That way, no one gets hurt.”

You stop, your heart racing. “But what if you actually want something more?”

He takes a step closer, the space between you dwindling. “Then maybe I’m just scared I’ll mess it up with the one person who means something to me.”

Before you can respond, laughter erupts from the bar across the street, pulling you both from the moment. Bucky steps back, his hands shoved into his pockets, the weight of unspoken words lingering between you.

The two of you continue walking, the silence between you both comfortable and charged with something unspoken. Every now and then, your arm brushes against his, and he looks at you with that half-smile, the one that always makes your heart skip a beat.

Eventually, you arrive at the entrance to your dorm. The clock on the wall says 11:30, well past the time when boys are allowed inside. You stop just outside the door, turning to face him, and tug his jacket off to hand back to him.

“Thanks for walking me home,” you say softly. “You didn’t have to.”

Bucky grins, tucking his hands into his pockets as he takes a step closer, his gaze locking on yours. “Course I did,” he murmurs. “Couldn’t let a beautiful girl walk across campus by herself, now could I?”

You try to laugh it off, your cheeks warming. “Plenty of other beautiful girls you could’ve walked home instead.”

He takes another step closer, his expression turning serious. “There’s nobody like you,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper.

Your breath catches as his hand comes up, his thumb lightly brushing your cheek, tracing a line down to your bottom lip. His touch is gentle, his eyes soft, and for a moment, it feels like the world has narrowed down to just the two of you. The sounds of the night fade away, and all you can feel is his hand on your cheek, his gaze holding yours.

“Goodnight, doll,” he murmurs, his thumb brushing once more over your lip before he pulls away, his touch lingering even as he steps back.

You start to take off his jacket again, but he shakes his head, a slight smirk tugging at his lips. “Nah,” he says, “I wanna see you in that tomorrow.”

Before you can respond, he turns and begins to walk back toward the bar, his hands in his pockets, his pace slow and easy. As you open the door to step inside, you glance back one last time, catching sight of him as he spins around, grinning, and gives you a two-finger salute. You laugh, shaking your head as you slip inside, your heart still racing.

[hannieehaee]

Hi, please do a continuation of your idol mingyu fics🥺 I really love me a nsfw idol mingyu fic so if you could continue it im gladly waiting for it!!

18+ / mdi

content: idol!mingyu x idol!reader, established relationship, secret relationship, simp!mingyu, afab reader, smut, oral (f receiving), etc.

wc: 2013

original fic

a/n: thank u for requesting idol!gyu i love him so bad <33

masterlist

handling a brand new relationship was already hard enough on its own. now add the extra stress of having to keep it a secret from the entire world, and then you have mingyu's current situation.

he had waited years to finally confess, never really expecting that the day where he could have you would ever come. and now that he had you, he was slightly frustrated at how little of you he could actually have.

not only did the two of you have constant conflicting schedules, but you also had to keep things as discreet as possible due to the nature of relationships within your industry (and maybe also due to mingyu's many exes being spread all throughout the industry).

mingyu tried not to be too annoyed by how little of you he got to keep to himself these past few weeks, with your schedules conflicting far too much for his liking. whenever he was off work, you just so happened to have a last-minute appearance at some fashion event in another country. in any occasion in which you were finally off idol duties, he suddenly had yet another shoot for a company he was the new ambassador of. there was just no way for the two of you to be in the same place for longer than an hour before one of you was called away to some over-complicated schedule.

and though mingyu really really did his best to not let this affect his mood, the inevitable eventually happened, and he finally snapped.

okay, he did not snap per say, but the drastic change in his mood was easily noticed by not only his members, but even staff.

throughout the past week, he had been the talk of the town (re: hybe) due to his unusual behavior. the usually high-spirited and highly energized mingyu everyone knew and loved had been overcome by a shell of his former; a grumpy and lazy giant who would grumble in response to any and every inquiry and would give his bare minimum during group activities (though never in front of carats – he could not help but always be a sweetheart to his carats).

for the past six days or so, mingyu had not been in contact with you. the most he could get were a few texts throughout the day due to both your groups having a comeback at practically the same time. he had not heard your voice or seen your face. not only were you promoting in america (giving you a sixteen hour time difference from korea), but you were also running on about four hours of sleep since your departure. in the meantime, mingyu was preparing for his own group's promotions, knowing that by the time you got back, seventeen would also leave the country and you would find yourself in the same situation.

the thought of yet another week with zero communication made mingyu lose his mind even further, causing him to be even more snappy as the days went by. one week became two, and you were finally due to come back, something that would've usually elated mingyu, except that his departure was scheduled just a few hours after your arrival.

today had been the worst day of all for his members, who had had to deal with mingyu's sour mood these past two weeks (and occasionally deal with his cries due to missing your presence). but enough was enough. not only was mingyu inadvertently messing with the synergy of the group, but a few members also felt bad for the pathetic mess mingyu had become due to your incidental separation. it was time to take matters into their own hands.

~

mingyu had never loved his members more than he did at this current moment.

sure, they'd been with him through thick and thin; since the beginning of his career up to the moment where they finally made it to the top. but none of those moments compared to the makeshift 'intervention' they had prepared for him just one day prior to your arrival (and consequent break from comeback activities).

he had been annoyed by it at first, assuming they were just going to grill him due to his lack of effort these past few weeks, but he was surprised to find that they had spoken to the company on his behalf. before he could protest about what he assumed to be some sort of punishment for his unusual behavior, he was informed by an easily-excitable soonyoung that they had convinced the company to allow him to stay in korea for an extra week before joining the rest of the members in overseas promotions. they had come up with a fake statement – something about conflicting schedules with one of the brands he was meant to promote for – in order to give justification to the public as to why he'd be staying behind. they comforted him and told him they understood his frustrations and knew what a hard worker he was, that they simply wanted to give him a few days to recover with you.

mingyu could've cried – and he did. he was beyond elated. he apologized profusely for becoming a weight to his members, getting on his knees to thank them for doing him such a solid, promising he would come back better than ever and that he would work as hard as he could to make up for the past two weeks. he was met with reassurance from his members and a few lighthearted curses due to jealousy of his free time with his girlfriend.

he spent the rest of the day with a reinstated good-mood and the most energy his members had seen from him in weeks.

~

as mingyu came to find out a few hours later, you were blissfully unaware of the sudden change of plans, still believing that he'd be out of the country by the time you got back home.

mingyu fell in love with you all over again the moment you gasped in shock and immediately ran into his arms as you found him waiting for you in your apartment, wrapping his arms around you with the warmest embrace he could muster, lifting you so that you could wrap yourself around him.

"gyu! what are you doing here?", you inquired excitedly as you pulled away.

mingyu didn't let go of you as he responded, "hybe gave me the week off. i get to stay with you til monday. surprised?", he grinned.

"a week?! oh my god! fuck, i've missed you so much," you went back to burying your face in his neck, drinking in the embrace.

"missed you more, beautiful. can't believe i finally get you all to myself again," he put you down slowly so that he could grab onto your hands, bringing them up to his lips so that he could kiss them over and over as you giggled at his antics, "i have so many things planned for the two of us."

"yeah?", you moved closer to him, placing your hands on his shoulders, "like what?", you flirted.

"gonna do everything ive been holding back on ..." he breathed out as he lowered his face down to yours.

"wanna show me?"

"yeah, angel, i'll show you ..."

those were the last words spoken before he took over your senses with a heady kiss, kissing you with so much strength that he physically pushed you back a few steps. his control was lost pretty quickly into the kiss, his senses weakened by the feeling of your body so close to his own.

wordlessly, he guided you in direction to your room, not allowing for your lips to disconnect for even a second as he laid you down on the bed and hovered over you. even as you began to lose your breath to the kiss, mingyu would only allow for your lips to disconnect for a few seconds at a time, taking a single breath before going back to licking into your mouth.

his hands had a mind of their own as they felt every inch of skin they could find, simply ridding themselves of any obstacles by removing your clothing as he unlocked new skin for his hands to touch.

"fuck ... did you get prettier, angel?", he finally disconnected your lips, though not without groaning at the way in which your lips chased after his despite your lack of breath, admiring the almost fully nude body under his own.

remaining fully clothed, mingyu could not feel your skin against his own, a circumstance that frustrated him too much to not solve it immediately. without a second thought, he ripped off his clothes and leaned down to kiss at your neck as his hands took care of the remnants of your clothing.

"hmm, angel? get prettier in my absence? were you keeping all this beauty safe and sound for me?", he was as soft in his words as he was with his movements, caressing the skin of your breasts as he removed your bra.

"gyu ... do something. please," you whined as he traced your nipple and kissed at your neck.

"what do you want, angel? cause i have a few ideas of my own."

"anything, just ..."

"anything? can i have that pretty cunt, then?", he breathed, his lips now against your ear.

"y-yeah, fuck. please."

within seconds he had made his way to the ground, kneeling before you as he buried his face between your thighs and went to town. his lips had already traced every inch leading down to your cunt, fully prepared to bring you to your first orgasm of the night with those same plump lips.

"so fucking good ..." he purred against your cunt, "grind it against my tongue, yeah, baby? wanna feel you gush on my tongue," his words were slurred, refusing to disconnect his lips from your cunt for even one second.

"g-gyu? i'm ... i, fuck ... gonna cum. need to cum. please ...", you whined, fully delirious from the feeling of his tongue.

"do it, angel. gonna lick it all up n give it back to you. been dreaming of you gushing all over my face," he breathed just a few moments before granting his own wish by leading you to your high.

you whined and cried as he continued to lick and suck at you throughout your orgasm, pulling at his hair and grinding against him simultaneously as your body fought against the sensitivity of your cunt while he refused to halt his attack on you.

after your high finally dissipated, mingyu made his way back up your body, once again kissing a trail through the entirety of it until reaching your lips.

he groaned against you as you gave him a kiss so nasty it had his eyes rolling back. he licked your taste right onto your own tongue, sucking it back as your tongues danced with one another. his cock was beyond hard by now, making him grind against your sensitive cunt as the two of you made out.

he reluctantly pulled away before he could get too carried away again.

"i really did miss you so much," he whispered against your lips.

"i missed you too, gyu."

"no, but i genuinely felt like i was going insane," he continued, "i didnt know i could miss anyone this much."

you cupped his cheek as you reciprocated the sentiment.

"now that i finally have you, being away from you at all is torture," he confessed, chuckling at how dramatic yet serious he sounded.

"i love you, gyu," you concluded, "i'm so happy i get to have you a whole week. i .. i'll make it so we can be together more often. i don't know how, but we can do this. right?"

he smiled and pecked you once, "yeah. not letting anything keep me away from you. i love you."

the soft moment was eventually interrupted by even more unseemly activities between your sheets. and the week was filled with constant love shared between the two of you as you finally reunited, fully determined to make this a frequent occurrence.

[hyuckiefluff]

Hiiii! May i request a mini fic where the femreader loves to play with jeno's hair. Can u add a little fluff to it? 🥹

I love ur fics so much! Thank u! 💗

thank uu for requesting!! feedback is greatly appreciated <3

pairing: lee jeno x fem reader

cw: none! unless ure like me and lovey-dovey couples trigger u lol im jk!!! no but writing this rlly had me kicking my feet cuz i can vividly imagine jeno being like this irl

wc: 500+

With the TV light casting a soft glow around the room, you tugged the blanket over your and Jeno’s bodies after feeling him shiver slightly, cocooning yourselves in its coziness.

"Why aren't you wearing a shirt? It's like -5 outside, babe," you looked down at your boyfriend, who was sprawled out on top of you on the couch. His arms wrapped tightly around your frame, seeking warmth in your proximity. You both were having a lazy day, watching the Bob Ross channel since you got called off work due to the snowstorm.

"I prefer your warmth," he mumbled, his voice sounding a bit slurred since half his face was buried in your chest. "Actually, you should take your shirt off too. I heard it's the best way to fight off hypothermia... skin-to-skin."

"Hypothermia is a bit of a reach, and please, stop being such a horn-dog for two seconds."

"Can't help it," he replied in a raspy tone, his slow blinks signaling that he was on the verge of falling asleep.

You smiled fondly, and your hands instinctively moved to his back, where you began to scratch. He groaned in satisfaction, and you could feel his leg twitch a little. It reminded you of a puppy when you rubbed its belly.

"You like that?" you inquired, and he responded with a contented hum.

Your hands traveled up to his shoulders, massaging his tense trapezoids. "Ahh, baby, that feels amazing," he slurred, his head growing heavier on your chest, a clear sign that he was relaxing more.

"Should've done this yesterday after your workout," you pointed out, your fingers expertly working the knots in his muscles. You noticed how tense he was and how he flinched a little when you pressed too hard.

He only managed a noise in response, lost in the bliss of your ministrations. Your fingers found their way into his messy locks, and he sighed contentedly. You knew he loved it when you played with his hair the most.

"Your hair's grown a lot," you said, grabbing onto a particularly long section.

"Yeah, I should cut it soon," he replied casually.

"You will do no such thing, sir," you declared.

He snorted at your sudden seriousness, but when you remained silent, he looked up and cooed at your frown.

"Baby, you said it yourself, it's getting out of control," he teased, laughing at your dramatics.

You rolled your eyes playfully. "Just say that you hate your girlfriend..."

His eyes softened, and he reached up to cup your cheek, his touch warm against your skin.

"You're so cute, and you take such good care of me, how could I ever hate you?" he murmured, his gaze filled with affection.

He raised himself slightly, leaning in to leave a soft kiss on your jaw. Your attempts to be fake-mad at him never lasted long, especially when he did sweet things like this. You reciprocated by pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead. This led to a playful kiss battle, each peck and smooch more intense than the last until you fell defeated, collapsing into a fit of giggles when he playfully attacked your lips with his.

masterlist

[afro-hispwriter]

do you have any headcanons for aemond or ewan (idk if u write for real people) but what do you think either of them would be like in a relationship?

Dating Ewan Mitchell:

Ewan gives off very caring bf vibes

he definitely listens to you all the time

he has a genuine interest in what you say and he learns about you through that

he LOVES seeing you in his clothes

doesnt care if he slowly starts running out of shirts bc seeing you in them makes it better

HORROR MOVIE MARATHONS

ewan loves horror movies and if you don’t… he will respect that

but that doesn’t mean he wont try to convince you

maybe it works

maybe it doesn’t

or maybe you will just as long as you get to be cuddled up to him🤭

OMG CUDDLES

i feel like he gives AMAZING hugs so imagine just laying in your apartment together and he just pulls you into him or your in bed post sex and his arms are wrapped tight, maybe legs entwining with yours

COUPLE FIGHTS:((((((((

tbh i don’t think they would happen often, ewan seems like the guy to realize somethings wrong and bring it up to try and talk

and he seems pretty responsible so fights over chores probably wouldn’t happen

but not saying they wouldn’t happen, one that might happen is over work

if both of you are actors you might not have time too be with each other so there will be more understanding

but if you’re not a celebrity of any kind, it most likely will be a little difficult for you

ewan might but put job before you to often and that hurts:(

you have love and supported him through his hard times, you visit him on set, you go to his premieres

but it goes both ways

a fight would break out, maybe a screaming match followed by some silent treatment until one of you breaks probably ewan

it ends with make up sex

BIG BACK?

im not to sure about ewans cooking abilities since I've only even seen a mention of a steak

BUT if he can cook he probably would cook for you a lot when he can

or if he cant and you can then you’ll take on the cooking aspect

but if you’re not as together as youd like due to work or you’re having a lazy day

i see some take out or simply going out to dinner frequently

The LIL GREEN MONSTER

ngl ewan doesn’t seem like the jealous type NOW

but when his career started kicking off maybe he was a lil jealous of the people you hanged out with

or if you’re a little bit more well known than him and have an established career before him and you had been dating already

boy probably had to deal with the people you work with already and got used to it

but i see a silent jealous person in him if it comes down to it

staying right behind you

holding on to you at all times

maybe he will go as far as kissing you in front of everyone

neck kisses

A LOT of pecks

he might even get a lil handsy around the person

or he will try a full blown make out session and you’ll be like 😯🤨

you both like your privacy like the media might not even know but they will now depending on where its happening

he’s a professional but he loves you so much

but once you catch one to whats his deal

a lil talking too with some words of reassurance and a kiss ofc and he’s back to normal

The talk of MARRIAGE and/or kids probably would come up depending on how long you had been together

i can see ewan giving you a promise ring, especially if you had been dating since you were young

but i say give him two or three years and he’s on one knee

kids though….

not sure if ewan wants kids or if he does obviously just not now

so if you guys got married, kids probably wont happen immediately

unless you had an oopsie before or right after marriage

but the whippets are enough for you two for now🥰

thats all i got for now😙✌🏾

he seems like a pussy eating king ngl

legs trembling

the type to cum just by giving you pleasure

imagine the groans😩

IMAGINE THE CHAIN DANGLING

THIS ISNT A NSFW FUCKK

-

a/n- first time writing a headcannon😗i know this was supposed to be both ewan and aemond but aemonds will come later🥰

[kroosluvr]

yay!!!!!!!

typo that im too lazy to fix: on the last page, "kasumi was one of the best gymnasts [in japan]"

edit: BRO I IDDNT REALIZE AKIRA ND SUMIRE WERE SHARING A SPOON TO EAT THE CURRY AM I INSANEEEEE <- She literally drew this image

1st 2 pics are genderbent akira+goro as well as sumire, 3rd pic is canon akira and sumire

in my head m!sumire is dedicated to rhythmic gymnastics, but the fact that it's not a popular sport somehow causes a mental block for him: kasumi was a trailblazer in men's rhythmic gymnastics. he was setting the course, but now he's gone. so does sumire live up to that? does he have to fill his brother's shoes? or can he just strive to be the best rhythmic gymnast he himself can be?

he was always solemn and driven growing up, but after the accident, he drove himself further into his practices and routines in an attempt to "recapture the spark" that kasumi had. of course, this is mostly in vain... chasing his shadow doesn't get him anywhere

he slowly develops the cognition of "sumire" being "kasumi's replacement." the younger brother that stepped up to the plate. to attend to his anxiety/depression he goes to dr. maruki (i'd say this takes longer than in canon, because he was always so busy with practice that he didn't really. comprehend 'oh perhaps i need counseling after my brother died' LMAO. and even then it's more "ok im gonna start competing internationally, so i need to make sure my mental is in tiptop shape"

he starts to reveal his insecurities to dr. maruki who. yknow. does all that. i don't think this sumire would specifically say "i wish i was kasumi" but more "i want to continue his legacy the way only he could have done it" which dr. maruki himself takes as "ok so u want to literally be kasumi"

i'd also say his "transformation" into "kasumi" is more jarring than in canon? canon "kasumi" is polite, eager, cheerful and sunny, but i imagine m!"kasumi" to be more boisterous, more outwardly outgoing/extroverted/outspoken, a little bit of a daredevil

on top of that, i think (perhaps) since men's rhythmic gymnastics isn't super popular, maybe not many ppl have heard of "kasumi yoshizawa" to begin with? so maybe ppl accept him as "kasumi" a little easier, which is. um. bad LOL

not sure if this helps his gymnastics at all. i thinkkk it does give him the confidence to execute more complicated routines that sumire himself didn't have the self-confidence to try before. but, of course, this doesn't affect anything in the rhythmic gymnastics world since. erm. everyone knows kasumi died. awkward!!!!

i think the shame would be all-encompassing when he breaks out of the delusion. he never wanted this.... all he wants is to keep competing with his brother, to keep supporting him into the limelight, and he'll never have that again. so i think, like canon, his arc is learning how to support and uplift Himself -- but more like, become more self-sufficient in terms of his own gymnastics instead of always seeing himself as second place to kasumi (and being okay with that)

it's different than canon as kasumi always told sumire they'd take the world stage... TOGETHER! ->

while i think for m!kasumi and m!sumire they worked in tandem, it was never really a dream. kasumi simply decided "i want to do this" and so did sumire. the thing is, kasumi's skills just far outweighed sumire's, and that much was painfully clear to him. kasumi was one who could bring men's rhythmic gymnastics into the international lens, and sumire has no idea if he could ever be strong enough to do that.

there's an interesting sort of dissonance here....... like. big fish small pond (genderbend au) or small fish big pond (canonverse.) i think its interesting.. okay enough rambles from me its 4am sdjsdjfh

edit: last thing i think. in canon it’s heavily implied that kasumi took the reins and pushed sumire to do stuff / pick out clothes for them both / kinda set the stage for both of them but i think in gb au sumire just follows kasumi as a result of kasumi being such a bright light. sumire has ambitions the same way kasumi does but he lacks the self-esteem to back it up…. it’s similar in canon but not 1:1 if that makes sense? i think in canon sumire is still questioning if it’s even her dream to compete in gymnastics so that’s the main diff

[envy-of-the-apple]

Sweet Home

idk how the multiverse works so im just fucking up the worldbuilding but basically my hc is that whenever a dimension suffers trauma (too many ppl leaving dimensions, rift in time etcetc), it will create a shield around itself, preventing anyone from entering or leaving as it works to self-correct. 

(Yandere, dark, kidnapping, captive, delusional behavior, gn reader, implied deaths, talks of bombs)

Yandere!Miguel O'hara x reader

Honestly, you weren’t much of a threat. 

It was a rather misfortunate case of wrong place wrong time. One second, you were in your home, mulling about. The next, you were across dimensions. 

At least, that’s how it was explained to you. You had no idea there could be more than one spiderman, and now you were surrounding by millions. Maybe even billions. Here they all were. Heroes, all working together to save the multiverse, returning innocent people, like you, back to where they came from. 

But, according to Miguel, you were a special case. 

“It’s not too hot, this time?” He asks, his face in the same scowl as always. Before, you assumed he hated you. Now, you realize the man had a hard time showcasing emotion. 

It’s still there, though. You can see the concern in his eyes as they soften ever so slightly, as if he was remembering the scalding hot tea that burned your tongue. 

You tasted it, smiling at its perfection. When you mentioned you preferred something sweet, you had almost choked on the lump of sugar at the end of the cup Miguel prepared. After that, he was much more lenient with sugar. 

Ever since, you were put into his custody, he made it very clear your comfort would be his top priority. You never considered a superhero agency to be comforting, but the room he lent you was spacious and had a warm fluffy bed, food was always delicious, the guilt-filled gifts were always nice. It was clear the man spared no expense. 

“It’s perfect,” you say, “thank you.” 

He gives a smile. Though, it’s strained, like he’s not sure if he’s doing it correctly. He finally gives up, staring down at your techband. It wasn’t as sophisticated as his, you understood why you couldn’t have one, you were just grateful it stopped you from glitching. 

“So...is there anything new?” You ask, careful to broach the subject. 

You couldn’t go back home, not yet. It had taken a while for you to calm down when you were first brought here. You had been terrified, fearing for your life surrounded by these strangers who all strangely resembled spiderman. It was Miguel that had talked you down. He wasn’t patronizing, didn’t coddle you, but he wasn’t unkind. 

He explained things carefully. When you had been ripped from your dimension, something had gone wrong. The dimension had closed in, as if it were a living creature defending itself, an armadillo creating a thick shell. No one could go in or out. 

So, here you stayed at the spiderman’s headquarters, temporarily dimensionless. 

You peered into Miguel’s face. He was tired. He always looked tired. You wondered if he was getting enough sleep. Guiltily, you knew you were partially a reason for that. 

“Nothing.” He sighed. “We still can’t communicate to your spiderman, nor can we break into the gates. So far, no progress.” 

You had a feeling that’d be the case. You gave a strained smile, feeling more and more hopeless. 

“Hey.” His hand was warm on your shoulder. “I’ll find a way to get you back home, I promise. Don’t give up on me just yet.” 

He was close, leaning in just so your faces were inches apart. Miguel was just being kind, you knew that. But his height and stature had always intimidated you. A part of you was sure he knew that. It was why he would always hover over your, like it was some way to subconsciously keep you in check. 

It was an absurd thought. As always, you shook it off. 

“And besides, if we can’t, you’re always free to stay here.” He gave a lazy wave to the spacious room filled with gadgets you couldn’t even begin to describe. 

 It was a joke. You knew that. Miguel was adamant about ‘anomalies’ being returned to where they belonged. You were certain he would’ve thrown you back into your dimension if the situation were different. Yet, just the thought of staying here forever, never seeing your friends or family ever again tugged on your heart. 

You appreciated everything Miguel had done for you, he had gone above and beyond, but you were lonely. Due to protocol, only Miguel was able to see you. You understood it, but it didn’t mean you were not allowed to have human emotions. 

You longed for home. 

He must have seen it in your eyes because he pulled back some. The lines on his face hardened ever so slightly. He was angry. Not at you. Never at you. 

“You done with that?” He changed the subject, gesturing to your cup. 

Nodding, you return it to him gratefully. He stands up, grabbing the remnants of lunch and dirty dishes. 

“I’ll be back.” He tells you, and he’s assured you plenty of times that you weren’t, but it was hard not to feel like a prisoner as you watched him leave through a metal door. 

You waited for ten seconds, and then you rose from your own seat. 

There were only two rooms you had access to. Your own, and then Miguel’s office. 

Well, it wasn’t really an office. It was a large computer room, but Miguel always worked here, and you always kept him company, much preferring the companionship of at least one human rather than the solitude of your bedroom. 

Over time, he seemed to trust you a bit more. Or maybe he started underestimating you. Over time, he had accidentally given you most of the passwords to this place, not really paying attention as you not-so-secretly spied on his work.

You felt a little guilty for snooping, but a part of you was frustrated. You’d been stuck here for weeks, with no concrete answer. Miguel always seemed to evade your questions. You wanted an explanation. Assurance. 

Strangely enough, you felt a little old as you clumsily operated a machine that was decades into the future. It was a humbling experience. You typed in your dimension number, a sequence you knew by heart. 

Huh. 

You weren’t sure what a closed dimension looked like, but it certainly wouldn’t look like this. It looked fine. Despite your minimal experience with looking at dimension maps, you could tell the gates were opened. You could even see tiny dots flitting in and out. People.

Everything looked fine. 

Then...why did Miguel say you couldn’t go home? 

“What are you doing?” 

You hadn’t even noticed he’d come back. He had been so silent. Like a spider. 

You whirl around to face him. For the first time, you realize you’d never actually seen him without his signature blue and red costume. His face was stony. His demeanor had changed, as if earlier he was actively trying to pretend around you. Before, he used to slouch slightly, his hands would drape awkwardly at his sides. Now, his back was straight, arms ready. 

You’d never thought Miguel as threatening before.

Still, you try your best to loosen the sudden tension in the room. You give a sheepish smile, hoping it doesn’t wobble like your heartbeat. 

“I think my dimension just opened up,” You mutter, halfheartedly pointing to the screen, “Does this mean I can go back home?” 

He steps forward. You inch backward as he makes his way over to the computers. All the screens shut off. You can barely see him in the dim light. 

He works he jaw, like he wants to tell you something but can’t. 

Despite your heart going a mile a minute, you don’t want to be scared of Miguel. The only friend you had here. You bite your lip, gaining all the courage you could. 

“Did you lie to me?” It was a stupid question. Of course Miguel would say no. He wouldn’t do this to you. He couldn’t. 

His eyes slice into you. Crimson. 

“Yes,” he says simply, “I did.” 

You weren’t expecting that. You couldn’t have. Your mind was whirling, desperately trying to piece together an explanation. 

The tears burned in your eyes. You forced yourself to keep them at bay. 

“Why?” It was barely a whisper, you weren’t sure if he had heard you. 

He rakes his hand through his hair. It was something he did when he was stressed. You’d once jokingly told him that if he kept doing that he’d go bald. 

You had joked with this man. 

“I was going to put you back,” He said, almost like he was pleading to you. As if you were his judge, his executioner, and not his helpless prisoner. 

“That was the plan. I was going to put you back but...” He sucks in a breath. He gives a laugh with no real mirth. 

“But then I realized how much safer you’d be here.” 

You didn’t understand. You take another step back. He follows. 

“Your dimension opened back up two weeks ago.” You’d been stuck here for three. “Communication has resumed like normal. I lied about that.” 

It felt like a sick prank. Like he would suddenly start laughing, telling you how gullible you were. 

But it feels even worse when he doesn’t do that. He just stares, almost like he feels sorry for you. 

You don’t want his pity. 

“You haven’t met your dimension’s spiderman, have you?” He suddenly asks. “He’s a good kid. But that’s all he is. Just a kid. Thinks everything comes easy. His fate is worse than most.” 

“His recklessness causes a bomb to detonate. 126 people die.” His gaze is stiff on your figure. 

“Including you.” 

You freeze, staring at him, unable to move. The word of your death still lingered in the air. 

“I told myself I’d send you back,” he continues staring into the dark screens, “But you were so sweet and you made me feel so-” He cuts himself off with a huff. 

“I always have to make the right decision. Every time.” He finally says, looking back at you. 

“Just for once, I wanted to be selfish.” 

“Miguel-” 

“I won’t.” He interrupts. “I’ll keep you here. I’ll keep you safe. I always keep things that belong to me safe.” 

You don’t like how he phrased that. You don’t like anything about this. This didn’t sound like your Miguel. 

Or did you even know him? Was the weeks of kindness all an act? A ploy to keep you satisfied?

Look how wonderfully that worked? You walked right into his trap like a stupid butterfly, struggling in the sticky webs. 

“You said it yourself,” you whisper, “I’m an anomaly. I can’t-I can’t stay in a dimension that isn’t mine. I could cause rifts-or-or even worse disasters.”

You try to throw his words back at him, hoping it’d knock some sense into him. He just gives a hum at your attempts. 

“Not if you stay here,” he replies, “Not if I keep you contained. Keep you here.” 

You shake your head, stepping back. This felt like a nightmare. The tears were falling in full force, down your quivering chin as you stare at him. 

“You-you can’t do that,” You mutter, backing up against the wall as he makes his way towards you, “You can’t do that.”

He crowds you against him, hushing you as he bundles you up to his chest, stroking your hair. He’s so warm. His scent of woodland mountains is so strong. He suffocates you. You hadn’t realized it until just now. 

“I know you don’t understand.” Miguel replies, sounding so genuine. It makes you sick. “But you will. One day. One day you’ll thank me for saving you.” 

Saving you. This wasn’t saving you. This was keeping you. This was killing you. 

“I want to go home.” Your voice breaks, cracks under the weight of his confession. “Miguel please. I-I need to go home.” 

For the first time, he smiles. A sincere smile. 

A condescending smile. Like you’ve said something adorably naïve. 

“Mi amor.” He purrs, affectionately kissing your cheek. 

“You are home.” 

[whousestypewriters]

photos of you - grayson hawthorne x reader

pairing: grayson hawthorne x fem!reader

warnings: swearing [like one word] kissing + flufffffff

a/n: so grayson my pookie wookie is getting a fic hehe! should i write a synopsis at the begining of each fic? idk im too lazy to do it rn lol -also its kinda short so sorry

"grayson!" you shriek when you enter his bedroom.

its plain and simple - like grayson - except nothing like grayson because anyone who's met him knows that grayson hawthorne isn't plain or simple.

he's smart, cunning, always sharply dressed - and man does he look good in a suit. like seriously he's so toned and muscly - which you may or may not know after having snuck out to watch him swim once... or twice... okay you do it all the time - he's like a freaking greek god in the form of a human-

sorry what?

got off track there. oops.

anywayyyy

you storm into grayson's room absolutely livid, pacing back and forth in front of a slightly amused grayson.

"like seriously she was such a bitch!" you say swinging around to face him again. "she actually called me the sloppy immature freak. can you believe it? like seriously that girl wouldn't know hard work if it gave her a high five... in the face... with a chair!"

you spin around again resuming your pacing continuing on before he can say anything.

"and to come at me during work-" your eyes catch onto grayson's open computer. "hey, what's that?"

all but forgetting your rant about the bitchy co-worker of yours, you move over to grayson's desk and plop down into his chair, focusing on the laptop in front of you.

"are these from our date last saturday?" you ask when you feel his presence at your back.

"yeah, i took a few and then had the flower stall vendor take some as well," his rich voice reaches down to your ears.

you flick through the photos your heart melting with each one he took. most are photos of you not paying attention to him and looking around happily at the park you were at. pure happiness shines in your eyes and you lean back into grayson silently thanking him and complimenting him on his work.

"its all you," he whispers as if he read your mind.

you instantly pause when you reach a photo of you both. you're looking at the camera smiling at the kind vendor but grayson. grayson.

he's looking at you like you're his entire world. like he'd willingly give up everything just to see you happy. the pure love, adoration and devotion in his eyes almost brings you to tears.

god you loved him.

"i like this one," you squeak out, still

"why's that?"

"because you can see how much you love me," you smile getting up out of your seat and wrapping your arms around his neck. "you look at me like i'm your world, gray."

"you are," he whispers wrapping his arms around your waist, smiling softly. you love how he lets this, softer, calmer, less rigid side of himself be shown with you. grayson is all sharp edges and cutting looks to the outside world, so it always seems to warm your heart that you get to be apart of this piece of him.

"i love you," you smile sweetly up at him and press a soft kiss to his lips. "so much."

"i love you," grayson says quietly. "more than you know."

later on when you've left, grayson makes quick work of emailing the photos off to a printing store, wanting you to have copies as soon as possible and making his favourite photo - the one of you grinning at the camera, or more like the person behind the camera, him - his lockscreen.

he'll never admit it to anyone else but he has always had a photo of you as his lockscreen, always, even from the early stages of your relationship. he had felt like he was keeping a small piece of you with him, a small piece of your happiness that seeps into his cold harsh behaviour when he's working.

so its a habit to save those pictures to the album he has on his phone and computer. its a habit to have the photos printed out and sent to your flat along with a bouquet of flowers.

its a habit to be grinning for hours in his room after you left.

its a habit to go scrolling through the albums and albums of photos he has of you. because honestly? out of all the places grayson has been, all the different photos and emotions he's caught on camera, out of all them,

photos of you are his favourite.

[taglist] @nqds, @nuncscioquidsitamor-14, @lxvebelle, @reminiscentreader, @ [if you wanted to be added or removed lemme know!]

a/n pt2: lol i think it kinda deteriorated at the end there.