#it felt boring so i didn’t eat it much as a kid but its SO fun now

[napping-sapphic]

Dating me would just be like we either go out for ice cream or stay home and eat ice cream for every single date sorry

[liyatime]

“ spread your legs ” . . | ˙✧˖°📷 ༘ ⋆｡˚ (enjoy!)

📷 pairing ; mark lee x tm!reader

📷 genre ; smut

📷 cw ; male x transmale/cuntboy intercourse , cursing , kissing , cunnilingus , fingering , c in v sex , vaginal descriptions , raw sex (wrap it before you tap it!)

mark lee , one of the smartest kids on your college campus not only happened to be a top student but he was also your boyfriend of a strong 3 years.

he spoils you so much you dont even know it like buying your lunches for you , paying for your dorm rent , and all around spending a ton of money on you. mark also spoils you by taking you on car rides , he drives you multiple places without asking for gas money and often takes you on trips , like today. he called you out to the parking lot during a fairly busy day saying that he wanted to eat out with you.

you walked out the college building with your tote bag on your shoulder that was filled to the brim with books and your laptop. you were on your phone looking for places nearby to eat at when you looked up and saw mark’s navy blue hooded convertible and him waving at you.

you did a light jog towards his car and leaned onto it giving him a peck on the lips. “i didn’t bother you? calling you out of class like this?” he asked unlocking the car. you walked around to the passenger side and got in , “not at all , i’d tell you if it was a problem. honestly i’m kinda glad i got out of there.” you said smiling. he smiled back and started up the car , “i found a place already, it’s not far from here.” mark said , backing up his car and getting on the road.

on the way to the place mark picked out you guys joked around and laughed , talked about school stuff (which was honestly kind of boring) and listened to music. both your music tastes were diverse but you guys enjoyed critiquing each others choices. you guys also looked at the menu of the place and decided ahead of time what you guys should order , most of the options looked delicious but what matters is how it tasted , mark's the only person who's been here before so he told you to wait and that it'd be a surprise.

the both of you soon arrived at a restaurant-type establishment , with the awkward name of it that you couldn't pronounce it must've been french or italian or something.. but before you could step out of the car mark grabbed your hand and locked the doors , "hold on.. i gotta tell you something," he paused and put his fist over his mouth before trying to explain "— i actually brought you here for something else." he said with nervousness in his voice , "you know we haven't been able to like.. do it because were busy , so i brought you to this uh.. place , because if we did it on the college campus a lot of people would find out and i really wanted to try car sex and i didnt know how to tell you and like—" "mark. it's fine , you could've just told me." you said laughing, "you're such a nervous wreck when it comes to sex like we haven't done it before , but in a car? im excited." you said.

"so this is okay? You're right though , i should've just told you.." mark facepalmed. "I told you its fine mark , if anything you made me really horny , having sex in a parking lot feels exciting." he blushed at your words. "really?" "yeah!" you replied "we should.. get in the backseat then right?" he asked. "yeah.." you two were awkward about this , but mostly mark because he thought you'd think he was weird and gross for wanting to have sex in public and tell everyone on campus , so now that you admitted it made you horny he got excited and was ready to fuck you so bad. mark and you lowered the front seats forward so you'd have more room in the back and then hopped in , immediately jumping to making out.

mark ran his hands all over your body , but he was OBSESSED with your waist , he loved holding it especially when he felt jealous or possessive. you smiled as you kissed him. you both slowly moved into a laying position as he unbuckled your belt and unbuttoned your jeans to gain access to your pussy through your boxers. he threw your jeans on the center console along with your belt and and began rubbing your clit through your boxers , feeling how wet you've gotten in the past minute. you moaned and held onto the door behind you , "fuckkk..." you stretched out the word at the feeling of him toying with you , slightly lifting your hips. he soon removed your boxers and looked at the color of your pussy , admiring how it looked when it was soaked in your juices. he placed his hands at the back of your knees and pressed your legs to your chest then licked a stripe up your cunt and placed a wet kiss onto your clit.

you cried out in pleasure. whenever mark ate you out it was amazing , you're the first partner he's ever had with a vagina but he knew exactly what to do. he must've been studying up for your sake. top student on campus , top student at eating pussy. "is this good?" he said , rubbing his thumb up and down your folds. "yeah.. keep going.." you responded out of breath from moaning. mark reached over to his glove box in the front and pulled out a packet of lube , ripping it open with his teeth and spreading it all over your cunt and his fingers. "take a deep breath (m/n).." he said , sliding his middle finger into you slowly and thrusting it in and out. you threw your head back and gripped the door handle , moaning out your boyfriends name and whimpering. "it's alright baby , i got you." he said , leaning over and giving a tender kiss in which you melted into.

mark inserted a second finger into your sopping cunt , "you're so fucking wet.." he said before dipping down and having a make out session with your clit , running his tongue over it and flicking it with his tongue. "mark im gonna cum.." you said biting your lip and putting your hand in his hair. this only made him suck on your clit harder and faster. you couldn't take the pleasure anymore and came so hard , a clear liquid shot out your pussy and onto mark's face and seats. he slid his two fingers side to side on your cunt as you let loose and immediately went back to eating you out. you were so sensitive and he was so hungry.

mark lifted his head back up and started unbuckling his belt and discarding it , taking the rest of the lube in the packet and spreading it all over his cock. he looked at you like he was a fox and you were the rabbit he couldn't wait to devour , his cheeks were red and he was sweating from his forehead. he slid his cock over your clit and between your folds and gave you a hard kiss , rubbing his tongue against yours and pulling on your bottom lip with his teeth. "mark.." you said , reaching your hand forward and rubbing his cock again your entrance. he smirked and took his cock , slowly sliding it into your entrance. your eyes rolled back but before you could let out a moan he took it out teasingly. you honestly werent having it. "put it in..!" you said , rubbing your clit and looking into his eyes. he laughed and inserted his tip back into your cunt , doing this a couple more times until he snapped his hips against yours and started thrusting into you at a fast pace.

mark replaced your fingers rubbing your clit with his thumb as you moaned his name and let out a whimper each time his hips met yours. the only noises in the car were grunting and the sound of skin slapping against skin. "fuckkk (m/n).." he groaned. he watched as your eyes rolled back into your head and you lifted your hips up so his thrusts were angled directly towards your prostate , your head fell onto the car seat and you gripped his arms. "im gonna fucking cum!" you exclaimed. "fuckin' squirt again for me.." mark commanded , after he said that you immediately squirted all over his dick as he pulled out and rubbed your clit. he then put his cock back into your pussy to help you ride out your high. "s..shit.." he stuttered , pulling his dick out and cumming all over your glistening cunt with his mouth wide open. mark was panting and so you , you were both wet and sweaty making the car smell like sex. he'll definitely need to air out the car and buy air fresheners for future purposes.

mark leaned down and made out with you , tracing the sides of your face with his palm and holding you by your waist. "we need to have car sex more often.." he said smiling. you giggled at his joke and held him close , eventually having to let go. "we should go to our dorm and get new clothes.. they're really wet.." you said. "Lets go." he agreed , giving you one last peck on your cheek before putting his soaked clothes back on just for the ride back.

lets hope nobody questions why he smells like that when he walks through the halls.

c/n: HI IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK LONGER THAN I SAID TO PUT OUT! my job has me busy and im still buying furniture for my home , im going for a modern look so i gotta save up and work hard to get what i want!! i noticed i improved in my writing, especially when writing smut because i used to skip the prep parts and it was so bad 😭 . im a virgin so writing smut is a struggle but im always on tumblr so reading others smut fics and studying up on anatomy and how sex like WORKS was a big help to me. i still suck at dialogue but practice makes almost perfect! i hope you guys enjoy this work more than my others, cuz they really suck lol. 💙

[disneyprincemuke]

i didn't tell you i was scared * fem!driver

perhaps carrying the burden of being the perfect eldest daughter after all these years have its disadvantages as well

pairings: fem!driver and her literal family

notes: don't even get me started on how fuckin long it took me to write this bro and also let's not talk about how bad this one is ok? thanks

(series masterlist) | (📂 2025: fall from grace)

(prev)

being back home has always brought about a sense of peace she hasn’t been able to replicate anywhere else. it’s just a different serenity when she’s back under the blankets of the bed she’d grown up in, surrounded by everything that reminded her of being young and innocent.

oh, how she misses the times when it felt like the world was in her hands. how naïve of her to think that if she worked hard, she’d get everything she wanted.

every single word of rejection slowly dug the trenches she’s managed to find herself in lately.

she’s so deep in that she doesn’t think there’s a way out.

she lies on her back, childhood stuffed animals burying her in the blanket. she bores holes in the roof of her room where her glow-in-the-dark stars stare right back at her.

she can almost hear the ghost of her 13-year-old self whining as oscar and logan prop themselves up on her bed to paste them on her ceiling, making fun of her for being too short to do it herself.

it used to be so simple.

there’s soft knock on the door followed bt the creaking of its hinges as it’s pushed open. a head pops in. “can we go to the store?”

“what?” she turns her head towards the door and furrows her eyebrows. “can’t you just take my car and go alone?”

dalton frowns, “is it such a crime to spend time with my very beautiful older sister?”

she raises an eyebrow. “you want me to pay, don’t you?”

“don’t make me sound so feral,” the young boy huffs with a roll of his eyes. “i haven’t seen you in months… come on, let’s do something together?”

“i don’t really…” she sighs as she meets her younger brother’s stare and hopeful smile. “alright, mate, just let me change out of my pyjamas.”

that’s how she finds herself at a convenience store at 2 in the morning, hands in the pockets of one of logan’s old jackets that he left in her parent’s house, slowly sauntering through aisles with a blank stare.

she’s been staring at a box of cereal for a couple of minutes, debating with herself if she should let herself indulge. but lately, it just doesn’t feel like she deserves nice things.

when dalton finds her, he’s got a basket full of snacks and drinks. he stops at the end of the aisle with a puzzled stare and tilts his head. “didn’t see anything you want?”

she smiles, “not really. and i’m supposed to be watching my diet — too much ice cream, noah said.”

which is just another blatant lie. she hasn’t touched a drop of ice cream since matt had packed his bags and left her apartment. she hasn’t even really been eating.

dalton hums, “i guess… let yourself have a cheat day, though.”

she sighs out a soft laugh and slings an arm over dalton’s shoulders. “maybe tomorrow. come on, let’s pay up before mama finds out i let you convince me to drive you out to the store in the middle of the night.”

she rests her head at the foot of her bed, nose-to-nose with kidnapper as he sleeps peacefully on one of her pillows.

“wish my life was as simple as yours,” she mutters, running her finger along the cat’s nose. “wish i could sleep all day and be adored like you, kid.”

she glances at her phone, lying peacefully on her side table next to the bed. it’s been going off with constant text messages for the past 5 minutes, most from logan and oscar asking about her parents’ anniversary party, and some from matt.

she can’t get herself to pick up the phone and answering feels like such a daunting task. she can’t find the right words to type out and send out as an acceptable response.

“hey,” the door opens and her mother’s head pops in, “busy?”

she lifts her head and smiles slightly. “what do you need me to do?”

“can you pick up the decorations from town? it’s pre-ordered, so you just gotta pick it up. then maybe could you bring home some dinner?” her mother flashes her a sheepish grin, obviously hoping that she would say yes.

“can’t you get dalton to pick it up? i’ll let him use my car if that’s what you’re worried about,” she offers with a small, unnoticeable scowl on her face. her plan for the entire day was to simply lie in her bedroom and do absolutely nothing.

her day simply isn’t complete unless she’s wallowed in self pity.

“he’s barely permitted to drive a car with an adult in the passenger seat,” her mother sighs. “come on, please? i’ll make you your favourite breakfast tomorrow.”

“really? it has to be me?”

“you’ve locked yourself in your room the 2 days you’ve been back,” her mother sighs again with the shake of her head. “i thought you came home early to help around.”

“i came back early to spend my break here. that doesn’t mean anything about helping around,” she complains, yet she’s scrambling to get herself off her bed. she knows better than to get into this sort of argument with her mother — it’s simply not going to be worth it. “but if it has to be me…”

she gets up and drops kidnapper off in dalton’s room. she changes out of her day-old pyjamas and heads to town where her mother had asked her to go.

all the while cursing under her breath about having so much to do on her supposed break. she’d only driven herself back ahead of her parents’ anniversary party to give herself a break from the fast-paced nature of london.

that and the refusal to go back to her apartment when it no longer felt like home.

but she does all that her mother asks of her anyway because her mother says so.

“you need to eat more, my love.” she watches her mother stand from her position on the dinner table and pick up a bowl of noodles. “you look like you haven’t been eating at all.”

“mama,” she tries to protest with a sigh, shaking her head as she tries to push away the bowl from her plate. “i’m not very hungry.”

her mother is insistent. she shakes her head with a soft huff, scooping out a bunch of noodles and putting it on the plate in front of her. “you need to eat more than you’re eating.”

she lets out an irritated sigh and turns to her father, sat next to her mother, for some sort of words to help her. but he just shrugs at her with an apologetic smile.

“i just want you to look like yourself again,” her mother sighs, pinching her cheek tenderly with a small smile. “you’ve had a tough year.”

she scoffs, dropping her head to toy with the noodles on her plate. of course, she uses her shit of a season to justify being an overbearing figure in her life. she would have been more tolerant of it — as she’s been her entire life — but it’s just not a good time for this behaviour right now.

“fine, whatever.”

she glances down the hallway for anyone who would catch her before she opens the door. she’s greeted by 2 beds and an empty room, but an overwhelming familiarity of friendship. a friendship that she’s strayed so far from that it barely makes sense for her to be standing in this bedroom.

on top of the dresser is a framed picture of her, oscar and logan at a karting track in the earlier days of their karting days together. she stands between the boys, oscar and logan leaning into her with their lips pressed against either side of her cheeks.

on the beds, she can see the 3 of them cuddled up together when she was 14 seeking help from the older boys with her homework.

if she thinks hard enough, she sees her 15-year-old self on oscar’s bed with the blankets pulled up to her chin with logan and oscar squeezing in the other bed in the room when she’s having trouble sleeping by herself.

in the far corner of the room, she can see herself at 16 curled up on the floor after her first boyfriend had broken up with her. and oscar walks in with a small scowl but 3 pints of ice cream for them to share while they try to distract her of the pain.

the room’s been cleaned and polished by her mother, preparing for oscar and logan’s return for their anniversary party this weekend.

she makes a sharp turn for the cabinet at the side of the room, pushing through hangers of jackets and sweaters hanging neatly, untouched for god knows how long. she sighs when a familiar red jacket comes into view.

“i told mama this is mine,” she grumbles under her breath, pulling the jacket out of the cabinet. it’s a ferrari jacket that oscar had gotten from his parents when he was younger, but since he’d outgrown it, she’d claimed it for herself.

“oh, there you are.”

she turns around, with a heavy heart and teary eyes, and comes face-to-face with her father. “hey.”

“i’ve been looking all over for you,” he sighs heavily, stepping into the room with caution. “i just wanted to check in on you after what happened during dinner. you know mama meant well.”

she grins with a slight nod. “yeah, i know.”

“and we’re just concerned for you.” he wraps an arm around her and rests his chin on top of her head. “after the year you’re having… we’re all concerned for you.”

“concerned?” she repeats under her breath, looking up at her father. “regarding what? i’m doing fine.”

“personally, i’m just concerned because you’re my princess,” he mumbles, giving her a squeeze. “and you know… i’m your father? i know if something’s wrong, but it’s okay if you don’t wanna talk about it yet.”

she lets out a heavy sigh, relaxing in his arms. she wraps her arms around him and nuzzles her face into his chest, “thanks for not making me talk about it.”

she throws her head back, trying to pull back the hand that’s clasped in dalton’s hands, yanking her towards the garage of the house.

“come on,” dalton mutters, “we’ll have so much fun! just like before!”

“dalton, i told you i didn’t feel like leaving the house today,” she whines, trying another attempt at pulling her hand back from him. “i have some things to settle with my finances and schedule… i’ve put that off for a couple days and kristen and noah need those by tonight.”

“i’m sure it can’t take that long,” dalton whines with a heavy sigh, tugging on her arm. “just a quick movie in at the theatre then a cup of ice cream?”

“dalton, come on, i said i don’t have the time for this!” she shrieks, yanking her arm back and stomping a foot on the ground. “i’ll pay for you to go with a couple of friends, but i can’t go with you. i have adult matters to handle before the week is over.”

dalton blinks at her, shocked at her sudden outburst. “i just wanted to spend time with you before you go off and not come home for months… i’m sorry.”

she opens her mouth to add to her previous statement, but seeing her younger brother with a frown on his face instantly felt like a pierce through her heart. “i– dalton,” she sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. “i just have so much going on right now. maybe we can go a little later? i just need to finish a couple of things for my team.”

“it’s alright,” dalton sighs dejectedly, shaking his head. he walks past her to head for the stairs. “maybe next time when you’re not being a bitch anymore.”

“what the fuck,” she mutters with eyebrows furrowed, turning around with her gaze following his steps. “you did not just say that.”

“what?” dalton whirls around. “it’s true. you’ve been such a bitch since you came back. you lock yourself inside your room, you never wanna talk to me, you never wanna join me for snacks, it takes me extra effort just to convince you to come out of the house and do stuff with me… you changed, mate.”

she takes a deep breath. “of course, you don’t understand. you’re just a 16-year-old — you don’t fucking know anything.”

“i know my sister,” dalton scowls. he rolls his eyes and scoffs with a dry laugh. “sorry, i mean i used to know my eldest sister. nowadays, you just ignore my texts, never return my calls and never wanna hang out. you’re a flake, rocky.”

“and you’re just a fucking kid, why should i take anything you say seriously? what do you know about anything that’s outside of your stupid video games and secondary school?” she huffs. “and what do you know about what’s going on with me? that’s not fair.”

“i’m not talking to someone who’s not open to criticism.” he glances at her over his shoulder one more time before running up the stairs. “get a grip, mate.”

“hey, i heard you were back early.” the front door closing echoes in the house, ciara putting her backpack down next to the shoe rack.

the other girl sits on the couch, attention unwavering to the tv show she’s put on to watch. “yeah. hi.”

“i bought you dinner on my drive home from campus.” ciara skips over to the couch happily, leaning down on the back of the couch her older sister sits on. ciara turns her head to grin at her. “from the chinese restaurant. i got you some noodles and wanton.”

“oh, thank you.” she turns her head with a small grin and a soft eye, eyes stinging with every blink. “welcome home, ara.” she pulls ciara in for a short side hug and presses a kiss on her cheek. “how’s uni?”

“it was alright,” ciara shrugs. “join me for dinner?”

she hums, returning her attention to the tv screen. “maybe not; i’m still full from the lunch i had. but thank you for getting me dinner.”

“you’re home!” dalton appears at the top of the stairs with a big grin. “did you get me my fried rice?”

“of course!” ciara beams, beckoning him down towards the dining table. “help me set up the table. rocky’s still full from lunch. it’s just us, come on.”

dalton hops over to the kitchen with ciara, not sparing his eldest sister another stare. so she just turns off the tv and runs back to her bedroom.

“oh. i didn’t know it was such a sensitive topic,” her mother shrugs with a soft chuckle. “i was just curious because you said matt was going to be here for the party this weekend and suddenly he’s not.”

the girl shrugs, keeping her stare on the plate. “yeah, but i really don’t wanna talk about him right now.”

“come on, just concerned for your relationship.” she clenches her jaw, feeling a knot form in her throat as she lifts her eyes to meet her mother’s stare across the table. “did something happen?”

“no,” she lies with a small grin. “he’s just got some things to settle back in the states. he’s just busy.”

“or maybe he realised you were a bitch,” dalton mutters under his breath.

“dalton,” ciara warns through gritted teeth, hitting dalton on the shoulder very gently. “what the hell?”

“what? it’s true,” dalton mutters. “you know that more than i do.”

“that’s enough,” her father speaks up. “let’s just eat dinner, okay?”

“no, my love,” a whine comes from behind her, “you put it up wrongly.”

the girl on the top of the ladder looks over her shoulder and meets her mother’s judgemental stare and disappointed frown. “you literally told me to put it here, mama.”

“put it up higher, no– like– i’ll just do it.” her mother offers her a reassuring smile and beckons her to get down from her position.

“no, it’s so dangerous for you to be up here,” she mutters, attempting to readjust the wall decorations to her liking. “just tell me where to put it.”

“you’re,” her mother pauses, “not doing it right. just come down and let me do it.”

she huffs and drops her hands. “fine.”

she climbs down the ladder, folding her arms over her chest as she watches her mother replace her.

“see? isn’t that better.”

but she swears it’s exactly the way she’d put it up just a moment ago.

“is this what you’re going to do the entire time you’re here? just mope in your room with your cat?”

she lifts her head from her pillow and turns, resting her head again as she stares at her mother standing at the door. “is this really how you want to start the day?”

“it’s noon. the day started almost 3 hours ago.” her mother leans on the door frame of her bedroom. “you have to get up and do something. locking yourself up in here,” she pauses to look around the kiddish bedroom, “it won’t make you feel any better.”

“i just have a lot going on,” she mumbles, flipping herself to face the other side of the room. “i’ll come down in a while. i just need a couple minutes.”

“oh, my god, mama!” her voice echoes in the empty house, running down the steps with her mother following shortly behind her. “stop asking me about matt! i don’t want to talk about him right now!” she turns around at the bottom of the steps. “not with you; not with anyone!”

“i’m just trying to give him an answer, my love! he’s concerned for you. he said you haven't answered his messages all week,” her mother reprimands with her hands on her hips.

“that’s between matt and i and you have no say in this, sorry.” she raises her hands in the air to surrender before walking away. “it’s just none of your business.”

she’d just been relaxing in her room by herself when her mother came in trying to make conversation. she’d been receptive at first until she realised that she was trying to get her to talk about matt again.

which, she’s just not ready to open up about yet.

“it is if you’re acting this way! locking yourself in your room all day… fighting with dalton? don't even get me started on the way you can’t even clean up after yourself — you’re an adult now.”

“i’m an adult, yeah, so let me deal with my fucking problems however i see fit!” she laughs dryly and turns to face her mother again. “can i have some room to breathe? please? without everyone following closely behind me and staring at me like i’m pathetic?”

“we don’t think you’re pathetic!”

“i see the sorry in your eyes when you look at me! everyone seems to be looking at me that way lately!”

“my l–”

“just please leave me alone!”

so she gets in her car and drives away. she doesn’t know how long she drives for, tears in her eyes and chest heaving in sobs.

but she finds herself at the park nearby, one that she used to frequent with oscar and logan after school. she parks her car right by the roadside and forces herself onto the empty playground. she sits on the slide for hours until she feels slightly better.

she pushes the front door open with a heavy sigh. the sadness of pulling up in the driveway of her house worries her. it’s like the sadness seems to find a way to follow her everywhere.

everywhere she goes, it’s like there’s a dark cloud hanging above her head and she doesn’t know how to make it go away.

“where have you been?” ciara’s voice startles her, sending her a step back. “we’ve been worried sick for you after you left so abruptly before dinner! you weren’t even picking up your phone!”

“i just needed some time alone,” she says with a heavy sigh. she closes the door behind her and slips out of her shoes. “i was just at the playground i used to go to with logan and oscar. think i left my phone in my bedroom before i left and i went to grab dinner–”

“seriously? you’re not even sorry?” ciara screams, throwing her arms in the air. “we’ve been so worried sick for you since you walked out for no reason?”

she tilts her head. “no reason? mama has been grilling me about things i don’t want to talk about since i came back.”

“she’s concerned for you! we’re all concerned for you!”

“i didn’t ask for your concern! i’m asking you guys to leave me alone; give me some fucking room to breathe!”

“then why did you come all the way here just to lock yourself in your bedroom? if you want to be left alone, you should’ve just fucking stayed in london where you have an apartment where no one will fucking bother you!”

she huffs, hands on her hips. “fine. i’ll just go back. since it’s such a bother that i’m too sad to be here right now.” she stomps past her younger sister and up the stairs, heading right for her bedroom.

“don’t try and guilt trip me to feel sorry for you!” ciara chases after her. “it’s just not fair that you came all this way to be fighting with every single person in this household! just because blythe’s not here, doesn’t mean you’ll get away with this behaviour!”

“i’m not trying to guilt trip you,” she snarls, grabbing her bag from the ground and shoving her things, sprawled all over her room, into it. “but i’m sorry my feelings are such a burden to you guys. cause personally, i’m not having the best time.”

“if you’re not having the best time, don’t bring us down with you! it’s mama and papa’s anniversary! spend a little time not thinking of yourself for once!”

“i’ve spent my whole life not thinking of myself! you don’t know — you’re just a spoilt brat who got everything she wanted growing up! i actually had to work for the things i wanted.”

ciara scoffs, finally stepping into the room. “who gave you the right to act all high and mighty like you’re better than everyone? being the eldest kid doesn’t mean shit, genius.”

“well, what would you know about being the eldest kid? you never had to take care of anyone besides yourself; you never had to think of anyone but yourself.” she picks up kidnapper, sleeping on the foot of her bed and throws her bag over her shoulder. “just fuck off, ciara.”

“you’re not the only one with problems, you know,” ciara scoffs, folding her arms over her chest. “and what, you’re leaving? way to face your problems head-on.”

“i’m leaving because clearly i’m not wanted here,” the older girl sighs, pushing past the girl to her bedroom door. “so let me get out of your hair before my sadness becomes too contagious for your liking.”

“you’re leaving?” blythe says in shock, watching her older sister walk past her without another moment’s hesitation. “but i just got here. and isn’t the part tomorrow?”

“she’s throwing us the dramatics!” ciara announces with a loud laugh, running down the stairs to catch up with her older sister heading right for the front door. “she’s leaving because she can’t face the fact that she could be overreacting this one time!”

“overreacting?” blythe repeats, following both sisters down the stairs. “what are you guys even fighting about?”

“she left for hours with no contact!”

“i don’t even wanna stay long enough for you to paint me to be the villain,” the girl announces, pulling the front door open. “i’m leaving.”

taglist: @wcnorris @treehouse-mouse @laura-naruto-fan1998 @mindless-rock @vellicora @ironmaiden1313 @angsthology @cherry-piee @christianpulisic10 @elliegrey2803 @33-81 @darleneslane @nikfigueiredo @happy-nico @namgification @localwhoore @notawc @sadg3 @kazuha-pista-badam @mellowarcadefun @megatrilss1885 @peqch-pie @woozarts @meadhbhcavanagh @2bormaybenot @a-disturbing-self-reflection @mclarengf @xoscar03 @nomie-11 @green-thots @inejismywife @love4lando @louvrepool

[areyoudreaminof]

some word salad behind the cut

I never thought I’d ever get into writing. My self esteem is so minimal it’s nearly non existent, so I had never bothered to try. But I started writing last year and found I was enjoying it. I made grand plans to write more until I didn’t.

My passion became my poison, suddenly.

As I scrolled through endless fics and writers much more talented than I am, my anxiety perched itself on my shoulder like a crow and squawked in my ear.

“The shit you’re putting out? No wonder nobody is reading it. You’re writing boring stuff. Who gives a fuck about kids and one shots?” It would say. I’d reply that I didn’t want to write smut. I don’t like doing it and it felt silly.

“So why are you writing at all?” Anxiety Crow said, “That’s what people want. And you can’t even do that.”

It came to a head right before Elucien Week. Last year, I wrote three fics I am still immensely proud of. One of which opened a door for me with the first Next Gen characters I came up with. I had assumed that I’d have something else lined up for this year's Elucien Week.

But in that year, I had a lot of personal changes and mental health challenges that weren’t getting better. I made the mistake of starting a long fic and it became this beast that I couldn’t tame. Even one shots and snippets became a chore. I’d have to force myself to finish a chapter, to try and translate the images I saw in my head to paper, but it wasn’t working. This coincided with my depression peaking in early 2024, in which I got suicidal and had to seek help.

By January, I’d gotten more frustrated with my writing, by June, I despised writing in its entirety. Three days before Elucien Week was due to begin, I hovered my mouse over DELETE ACCOUNT on AO3 and nearly trashed a year worth of work. I decided to take a step back to clear my head and to put a stop to this toxic competition I had with myself. I didn’t want to lose the hobby I’d grown to love and destroy the new friendships I’d made. I was absolutely terrified of losing those wonderful friends I’ve made and I felt so guilty and angry at myself for fumbling the bag and not writing anything.

I can’t even tell you why I obsessed over it, I may never go back to writing at all, but the weight of that self hatred has eased up from my chest. It’s not eating me alive anymore. That’s not to say it’s gone of course. Just the other day I had another major moment of doubt, and nearly trashed everything, again. I’m trying to parse through my own mind constantly to sort out my own spirals and triggers. Some days it’s working, others it’s not.

I think I’m now telling you about it, because I’m sure you’re feeling it too. People reached out to me to check on me when I left and others to let me know they were having the same problems. The feelings of inferiority among fandom, the nagging expectations we placed on ourselves. Never mind any of the challenges we face in our daily lives. What’s the worth of my mental health and happiness and why the fuck do I keep measuring it like this?

Whatever comes of this break, I hope that all of us can find our self worth, wherever it is. I see so many incredible artists, writers, and people that inspire me to want to keep going. If you’re reading this, you’re one of them.

Take a breath and take a break. We’ll figure it out.

[wonfilms]

calling after me ⭒˚｡⋆🖁[ lee heeseung ]

genre: slight angst? fluff

word count: 0.9k,

warnings: cursing, friends with benefits though its never explicitly stated

a/n: this is my debut being out and proud about being a die hard wallows girl btw !! this is based of their recent single "calling after me" pls check it out teehee >-< , i hope u guys like this even though it's js my brainrot !

you know you shouldn’t call him.

you know it’ll end up like it always does.

kissing in the back of his car late at night,  whispered silent goodbyes, before you’re both left with empty apartments at night and sorry little texts for some sort of remembrance that you weren’t making the whole thing up.  

at times it sure felt like it, it was all a complete secret. heeseung was… a friend. a good friend… and that’s all. that’s all it should’ve been.

so why were you sat at this boring party that you had no business being at, wishing he’d walk out of the crowd, knowing damn well that he wasn’t here. 

you’d been out all night, and your head throbbed from the alcohol hoping for a distraction though your heart was aching for something else.

who were you kidding? you knew what the "something" was.

him. 

your finger hesitated on his contact, you didn’t know if you deserved the effects of this stupid game you were playing. you didn’t know if he deserved it either. 

this had been going on for months. a cruel sort of limbo between being friends and the precipice of something more.

he wasn’t your boyfriend, which sounds absurd in hindsight. he was someone who knew everything about you. someone who had held you close while you cried and stayed by your side through thick and thin. someone who has kissed you more times than you can count, someone who you spend countless nights with talking about nothing and everything all at the same time.

hell this man even had his own extra toothbrush at your place. 

he was the person that you thought of before you closed your eyes at night, the first name that you remember when you wake up. 

you didn't quite know what to do but one thing ran clear : this can’t keep dragging on.

you swallowed, pressing “call” before holding your breath in nervousness briefly.

one ring, 

two rings..

and on the third ring he picked up, his voice hitting you like a painful reminder of what you needed but didn’t deserve. he sounded tired, voice raspy from sleep. 

“hey baby? you alright, you’re calling kinda late?” heeseung murmured. 

“baby”, just the name reminded you of how damn close you two had gotten.. it’s not meant to be like this, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t want it to be.

you checked the time. 

fuck he was right, it was already 1am.

you didn’t quite know what to say. there was too much to say. it wasn’t fair to say "why can't we be more than this?" over the phone... even though that's what you so desperately wanted to spew out repeatedly into the receiver in the hopes that maybe it'd come true, so you simply said what was the usual between you two.

“wanna go on a drive?” your voice was meek, almost like you were embarrassed to even say it. 

and of course, he fucking agreed, whispering that he’d be there in ten minutes. like he always does. like he always is.. never more that 2 minutes late. 

you sat on the wall dangling your legs as you stayed deep in your own thoughts for a while, before you heard him calling your name cutting through the silent ambience of the night. you were so gone that you didn't even hear his car pull up.

you look up from the floor and he’s stood there in front of you gently. your heeseung.

except he’s not quite yours. 

“why’re you moping like that, doll?” his voice is gentle, and he softly touches your hand, squeezing it as he gently helps you down from your seat. you didn’t quite know what came over you but you fell into his arms, wrapping him in a tight hug. 

maybe it was the alcohol, but perhaps it was just easier to blame it on that than the fact your feelings were eating you alive.

heeseung froze lightly before reciprocating gently, hugging you back though his face was painted in slight confusion. your heart raced as he let out a soft little laugh. “what’s this hmh?” he whispered.

you couldn’t help but crack a smile at him, he had that effect on you. even when you were feeling like utter crap he had a way of flipping it all over till you were laughing over the most mundane little thing. “nothin’...” you mumbled, burying your face in his chest, “missed you is all” 

you could hear his heart beat grow faster at that, your smile growing with the pace of the rhythm. “missed me hm?” he teased, “and why would that be-?”

you knew he was only half joking, expecting you to crack some sort of sexual innuendo, but you swallowed before speaking. “because i love you.”  it slipped out before you could even stop it.

he stopped, his smile replaced with a slight look of shock, “l...love me?”

you paused, you’d fucked up. messed it all up for closure. this was the end, your throat ran dry, not quite knowing what to say.  

he stood forward gently, softly taking your hand in his. “why do you look so nervous pretty?” he jokes.

he fucking jokes. and you don’t quite know why.

“because.. i fucked us up by saying that didn’t i..?” you could barely speak, your head swimming with possible outcomes, but what he did next was not one of them. 

his hand softly pulled you towards him, holding you back to his chest in a warm hug, tilting your chin up to meet his eyes. “say it again won’t you?” his heart raced in unison with yours, his gaze filled with anticipation, a blush gracing his cheeks.

“i.. love you” you murmured, unsure of what he was getting at exactly, until he softly pressed his lips to yours a gentle chuckle leaving his mouth as you felt him hum happily against your lips, a soft whispered confession slipping past against your lips, “i love you too, like a lot.” he whispered just loud enough that your brain barely comprehended it before you’re kissing him back.

his hands cupping your face holding you tight, just like all the times you've kissed before, but this time you feel whole knowing it was all really real. he did love you back. just as much.

[wandasmistress]

Trapped

Requests (2)- A bottom!Natasha x Reader where Natasha and the reader are heading to a mission spot and while they’re in the quinjet R is eating out and fingering Natasha + Bottom!Natasha x reader where they have sex on a mission

Synopsis- Steve shouldn’t have tricked you into going on missions causing Natasha to miss you dearly, but once you’re back for good there is always time to make up for what was lost.

Pairings- Bottom!Natasha Romanoff x Top!Reader

Warnings- 18+ Content, and Steve?

Word Count- 4k

A/N- I’ve been really inactive for the past few months but I feel that I have got my motivation back to write so hopefully I can start to put out more stories :)

➵➶➴➵➶➴➵

Your body was exhausted to stay the least, it was a mistake for you to sign up for quick missions, a big mistake. The need to always be in non-stop action to rid yourself of growing daily boredom was prominent within you. You didn’t mind all that much because doing missions was something to keep you in check and present in reality, besides one other thing.

Because of that other thing which is a special someone that you dreaded leaving for missions. Each time boarding a quinjet or black decked-out SUV there would be a sorrowful presence looming at the door of the compound’s exit, Natasha. 

When you weren’t on missions she was your constant light throughout your day because with her around you never got bored and always had a fire to keep you lit inside. When she left for a lengthy recon mission months prior you had to do something to keep you entertained for the time being. That happened to be quick missions Steve had encouraged you to sign up for when he saw your lack of life as you stared out the compound’s grand living room window that held a magnificent view of the surrounding wilderness that kept you entranced for the time being while your lover was away.

What Steve “forgot” to mention to you is that if you signed up for quick missions it would be official for eight months, let's just say you almost got into a fight with America’s most beloved. Once you signed with your signature you couldn’t take it back. At first, it was fine for the months when Natasha was gone, you had something to occupy and eat up your time, but when she came back it was a different story. 

You still had four months left on your contract and time seemed to slow down significantly, so to Natasha, it felt like an eternity. Every time she saw you off a piece of her inner happiness chipped away while uncertainty replaced its spot. She was filled with tremendous dread and loneliness during all the nights she spent without you. She longed for your touch every second of the day and especially at night, she yearned for your company so bad it was absurd. 

She had been pestering Steve about taking you off the quick missions but he ignored her advances and excused himself immediately so he wouldn’t receive her raft. Constantly following him around the compound to disrupt his day, in her eyes if she couldn’t get any sort of peace,  why should he? During all the time she had been pestering Steve, it was the end of the eight months; she couldn’t have been more delighted. She was like a kid at a candy store, only a few feet taller, tapping her foot repeatedly against the pavement as she waited to hear the familiar buzz of the incoming quinjet.

Her deep red tresses swayed from the sudden gush of air, a dark shadow cast upon her from the monumental aircraft. The shadow was a stark contrast to the fierce light that was present in her from the thought of finally being able to have you fully.

Stepping off the mechanical quinjet for the first time in hours made you relieved to breathe in the fresh air, smelling blended natural fragrances and a familiar perfume that you knew all too well. It was in a flash and then the next moment you were bombarded with Natasha’s presence. It was hard for you to hug her back with your duffle bags still in your hands but you wasted no time in dropping them and enveloping her in your arms.

She clung onto you as a sloth does to a cecropia tree, her head buried deep in your chest as she took time to fully embrace your presence. You understood her actions because the last time you spent a full day together was two months ago, who knew how many small missions there were out there to be completed.

Natasha brought her head out of your chest and peered up at you. Taking in your wondrous features that she admired staring at during the brink of the night when the moonlight shined just perfectly on your dormant face. She would study you for hours until she fell asleep in your comforting hold with only the thought of you there with her lulling her to sleep.

“Take a picture Nat, it last longer.” You say softly to Natasha as your hands naturally travel towards her hips to hold onto them.

“Oh, shut up.” She lightly chuckled as she gave a gentle slap to your shoulder, “I would take a picture of you but it could never truly capture your beauty.” Her words made your cheeks heat up along with the way she was intensely staring at your face.

“I can tell you missed me because that was cheesy as fuck, but don't worry I forgive you for that cause I missed you too.” She rolled her eyes while letting out a breathy laugh at your response as her hands trailed up your abdomen and around your neck.

She came close to your face causing your breaths to merge, you could practically smell the minty freshness on the cusp of her breath, “But ‘Take a picture it last longer’ isn’t it?” Your mind was too hazed with the thought of her lips on yours to fully understand what she was saying. Leaning forward to catch her lips only for her to back away at the last second making a frown come to your face.

“Such a big baby, don’t worry you're gonna make it up to me with more than just kisses for your absence.” She teases you as she pecks the corners of your mouth then continues to give small kisses all around your face but never your lips which slightly agitates you.

Although, not more than Steve coming to interrupt your moment with Natasha. She instantly got annoyed as he rounded the corner. A glint of sweat can be spotted on his face meaning he ran twenty miles non-stop. 

With a roll of her eyes, Natasha instantly stares down Steve as he walks up to you both, her arms now crossed over her rigid stomach.

Steve awkwardly greets the both of you with a skittish wave as he avoids Natasha’s fierce gaze.

You greet him back satisfactorily, putting your hand on the lower part of Nat’s back to wordlessly communicate with her to acknowledge Steve.

“Steve.” Natasha bluntly replies, showing no ounce of welcome in her tone.

“I hate to say this, but you both need to meet me in the debriefing room. Be there in the next ten minutes.” He says with a militant tone, fleeing towards the door of the compound straight after his assertion.

Natasha made a move to follow him but was stopped by the firm grip on her waist that held her back. When she turned around with lifted eyebrows she was met with your unimpressed face as you rolled your eyes at her abrasive antics.

“I’m off of those little pesky missions now, there's no need to hold any grudges. Help me put away my stuff, yeah?” You softly ask her, reducing your hold on her waist because you trusted her enough to not go after Steve to give him a mouthful.

She shook her head and gave you a small smirk, “Since when did you turn into a peacemaker?” She scoffs slightly in a mischievous manner as she starts striding off.

You give a light chuckle at her words but wrinkle your eyebrows in confusion at her retreating form, “You're not gonna help with my bags?”

She turns around while still strolling with a charming pout on her face and shouts, “My hands are kind of tired from all the stroking they have been doing since someone wasn’t here to do it for me!”

Your face runs cold as her coy pout turns into a naughty grin. You're stuck in a trance at her distant figure and you swear you can see her hips swaying more than they were a few seconds ago. You wasted no time in picking up your duffle bags and catching up with her, she always had a way with words that left you awestruck.

»

You and Natasha had just walked into the debriefing room Steve mentioned and the first thing your wondering eyes spotted was the brown box of your favorite, Dough Doughnuts. Treading straight towards the box of donuts as if your life depended on it; grabbing a plate from the table where the donuts were held to stack some of the pastries.

Helping yourself to multiple thick and doughy donuts put a bright smile on your face, “Help yourself, I got them for you, out of guilt.” Steve murmurs next to you rendering you to jump from the sudden surprise, managing to save your plateful of donuts as you turn towards him with a warm smile on your face.

You thank him genuinely, “although this won’t be enough for me to fully forgive you.” Your words cause him to take in a deep breath as you send him a shallow smile as you move around him and make your way to Natasha sitting at the immense oak oval table.

As you come closer to Nat she makes eye contact with you, her eyes broadening at your approaching figure. When you made it over she raised her right eyebrow as she eyed your plate stacked with donuts. By that time you had already started eating them on the walk over so when you spoke your mouth was full of mushed donuts.

“What? The last time I ate was hours ago.” You reasoned.

Natasha’s resting smirk only grew as she replied, “moya malen'kaya rybka fugu ”

You playfully narrowed your eyes as you took a seat behind her, quickly flashing your mouth full of mixed donuts only for her to swiftly pinch your stomach with a twisted grimace. Quietly chuckling to yourself as you got seated; Steve cleared his throat for both of your attention.

Just as he got attention to start speaking Natasha kicked up her feet on the deep oak conference table with a loud thud followed by a displeased sigh. You had to look away for a moment to contain your laughter, you had yet to ever see her be this petty towards Steve.

“I just wanted to start this meeting to say I never meant to have you sign up for the missions but no one else wanted to, and god knows the shield agents aren’t prepared enough for constant tasks like that. Leading to the point of this gathering, which is a final mission for you both.”

Natasha’s face turned into a passive expression that only Steve could see from his angle; a slight hesitation in his speech from the direct eye contact Natasha had with him.

“Don’t flip your lid Nat, this is a recon mission that should take less than a week. More of a getaway if you ask me, it’s in Madrid, I searched on that engine Googlet and their beaches are said to be nice during this time. The mission file is on the table, have fun ladies.” He declared before he left the room with a clasp of his hands.

There was a few seconds of brief silence until Natasha turned around in the twisty chair with her signature smirk ingrained on her face. She slowly arose from her position in her seat to saunter a few steps and rest herself on your awaiting lap. 

In between the mid-bite of a donut, you stared deep into her eyes, slowly moving the pastry away from your face to deliver a soft peck to her nose. Her face scrunching up in mock disgust as she pinched you on the cheek complaining about the sticky filling that now occupied her nose.

You couldn’t help but not take her words into account as you zoned her words out to only focus on the accentuating features that reeled you into her as a fisherman does to fish. The only thought on your mind was her ethereal beauty, not only did her outer beauty look so magnificent, her inner beauty was millions of times better. Cherishing the moments when her relaxed personality came out because of your presence; the way her face seemed to light up when you were near, and the way you found solace in her viridescent irises.

»

You were standing in the cockpit, leveling the controls of the quinjet to kickstart the autopilot mode so you could catch up on some sleep that you dearly missed. As you were focused on turning on the alarm to notice another aircraft in the air, turning on the radar, and checking safety controls caused you to fail to notice the slim figure approaching from behind.

Nat takes this moment why you are in mental solitude to absorb your features; your concentrated face making a knot deep within her start to ache. The way your hands are flexed across the controls, moving in practiced synchronization as if you could do it perfectly with your eyes closed. Also, the small barely noticeable scars littered across your arms and hands that she knows all the stories to you, courtesy of you telling them to her in the deepest of the night as her head lay on your bare chest when sleepiness was absent.

She came up behind you while you were slightly leaning on the controls, encircling her hands around your stomach, laying her cheek across the side of your back as she watched the view of the endless clouds. This is where she loved to be, anywhere with you, no matter the place.

When you felt her hands on your abdomen a sense of warmness spread throughout your body at just her touch; what she could make you feel in just a matter of seconds was a feeling you always loved.

There was a few moments of sereness that passed by before her face shifted away from the clear window to face your back.

“I really missed this.”

You let out a small chuckle, pivoting your head scarcely to the left so you could see her out of the corner of your eye. “I never knew you were so needy, babe.”

She slaps your back with her right arm at your tease which causes you to tremble away from her grip but eventually turn towards her, leaning back on the controls now so you were face to face. 

“Well you have been away to satisfy my needs, and I can only do so much.” She expressed softly with a playful angry expression on her face as she stands on her toes to connect both your lips once and for all.

The laughter within your stomach automatically ceases as her plump lips come in contact with yours, being substituted with a desire. Your hands were quick to move up to her hips and gradually down to her plump bottom, giving a gentle squeezing. 

A soft moan discharged from her closed throat at the pressure that was so close to where she needed you to be. Her lips miraculously worked with yours in an erotic dance as the force of the kisses made each of your heads move back and forth. Her hands unhurriedly came up to your firm stomach for balance, her hands skimming over your clothed breast which made a groan escape between your parted lips as you came out of the kiss for air.

No words were uttered as you wordlessly looked into her eyes for the next few seconds, her dilated pupils and the salacious look that resounded within her darkening orbs made you dive in for more of what you so badly dreamed for.

Your hands left the position on her lower half to quickly cup her face and bring her closer while her soft tongue pressed against the entrance of your lips for admission to your tongue. Bestowing her access by parting your lips, your tongues clashed together in simultaneous congruence. A deprived moan came from the pit of her throat from the way your mouth deliciously sucked on her tongue. That eruption from deep within her vocal cords was the moment something clicked on inside of you to grant her real satisfaction.

You swiftly picked her up by the rear and carelessly sat her down on top of the controls, damn the quinjet because if you go down this would be a gratifying last moment of your life. While still retaining a steady pace of indulging in Natasha’s succulent lips, your hurried hands tugged at the hem of her leggings. She snickered as she caught onto your intentions and lifted her bottom so you could quickly pull her lower garments off. 

Greedy fingers instantly met Natasha’s clothed cunt moments after her leggings had been moved and forgotten by her ankles. You took your middle and pointer fingers together and rubbed them against her clothed protruding clit. Provoking a loud moan from her; your breaths integrating from the brisk withdrawal by both of your damp lips. Her right hand presently snaked up the back of your neck while her left hand rested on your shoulder; making eye contact with her as you devoted more pressure on her clothed clit, her pupil now a tiny black speck in the sea of inveigle basil green. 

Her eyes squeezed shut as they rolled back while her mouth hung open and twitched from the constant motion happening right where she needed you to be, her head inclining forward as you pressed harder. Your sweaty foreheads came together for only a moment until you shifted your head to start sending temperate but firm kisses along her face and later neck.

You had enough of taunting her, wanting to feel her needy opening sucking up your digits. Impatiently pushing aside her lacey panties as you were met with a beyond moist sticky cunt; quick to find her clit and begin irritating it for more pressure. 

Natasha’s celestial moans and faltering sighs filled the quinjet's advanced space, luckily it was just you two, or else things would have been inconvenient. Although your fingers did not just stop at rubbing her clit, too eager you wait not one more second and plunged them straight into her opening. A coarse protracted whine came from her hushed mouth, as her face rested on your shoulder she took the opportunity to bite down to help with the influx of pleasure she acquired in such little time. 

This didn’t deter you as you only started to pump your digits quicker, the only sound echoing throughout the aircraft was your low grunts now and then, Natasha’s moans that began to sound more like yearning cries, and her pussy making various squelching noises that rang like music to your ears as you continued to hammer into her.

It didn’t take long before that tight knot within her stomach that had been itching badly inside of her, in demand to be undone, finally erupted. When that knot flared deep in the pit of Natasha’s stomach that’s when a real guttural whine escaped from her lips. You knew she was quite the verbal person in intimate situations like this, but the moan that was unleashed from her sounded extra-terrestrial, an almost jarring roar that was brought out from a hidden place inside her.

You weren’t close to being done yet, the second you remove your fingers from her center a tired objection came from her heavy breathing mouth. Her muddled head leaned back until her heavy eyes looked upon your face, her creased eyebrows hinted to her examining your sudden action to stop. Before she could let out a weak protest you stuck your soaked fingers that had just been buried inside her past her plump lips and flat onto her unexpectant tongue.

She sucked her juices from your fingers slowly in a seductive manner as she kept eye contact with you; your knot within starting to beg for release just from the way her pristine lips grasped around your digits and slowly slid down the expanse of your fingers. When she popped the fingers out of her mouth you immediately brought them up to your lips to get a taste, unknowingly to you Nat’s eyes hazily watching the movement of your hands and the way you searched for any leftover taste of her on your fingers only for it all to be gone.

In a matter of seconds, your lips instantly met Natasha’s again, causing a groan to leave her from the force of roughness. In your little plan, you had found what you were looking for, but there was still some leftover taste of Nat scattered on her tongue. A deep moan set free from her drowsy self at the feeling of you sucking her tongue harshly. She brought her head away from yours slowly, a string of mixed saliva drooping between your faces as both your lustful eyes stared deep into one another's souls.

“There’s more where that came from.” She uttered in a husky voice.

After dispatching another quick peck to her lips, you sank to the ground in an instant. Your knees collided against the hard steel just as Natasha had spread her legs open, wide enough for you to have full sight of her exalted pussy that could never be replicated. Natasha took her bottom lip in between her teeth and smirked from the way you were taking time to adore her bare cunt as if she hadn’t told you to continue the vulgar actions that you were performing moments earlier.

It didn’t take you any longer to get back into the swing of things as your face merged into her sodden cunt, her thighs encompassing your head as her radiant smell plagued your sense as you took a deep breath in. Sticking your deprived tongue out from behind your lips that were submerged in her center, licking an elongated vertical line up her center. Her shivering that knocked you off your course made you resort to wrapping your hands around her outer thighs to keep her in place, talking into her pussy which sent a thundered hum attack her clit which stimulated her so much that she bucked and whined like a lost wolf that has strayed from its pack.

Her body shuddered from your attempted talking inducing numerous buttons on the control deck to be pressed while some switches flicked on and off. Your grip on her thighs constricted to ensure she changed no controls that would cause the quinjet to plummet to the ground instantaneously. Even with a slight chance of crashing, you stretched your hungry tongue past her entrance, and as deep as your face would let you without suffocating, making this another satisfying moment to go out. 

Your tongue wriggled back and forth inside of Natasha, numerous times pressing on the bundle of nerves that made her go crazy each time you hit it just right. Natasha needed something to hold onto as the knot in her came undone even more each second, her pale fingers sliding in between your locks and barring onto the roots. You hissed slightly from the tugging she would do every few seconds from hitting her g-spot now and then. That didn’t hold you back from going deeper as her taste was so addicting, her juices being like holy ale sent down from above just for you only, sacred nectar that could never be found anywhere on the earth no matter how hard you searched. 

Ultimately getting lost in the tempo and taste of Natasha brought her to another orgasm that struck her harder than last time tenfold, you were always so proficient with your tongue that she could never get enough. This time no sound was emitted from her opened mouth, only a sound of strangulation as she failed to take in air. Her tense chest heaved in and out as she got a hold of her breath but was still moments into seeing the stars. That was all muffled for you because she had you interlocked tightly within her pale plush thighs, her juices drenching your face as her cum oozed out from within her. You were entrapped, and truthfully, you don’t think you want to leave just yet.

»

[yaut-jaknowit]

Hi, can I have some fluff/comfort with a bit of angst please? I have a very bad memory and am quite an anxious person. Sometimes (quite often) not remembering something makes me paranoic. I would really love to get some comfort from a Yautja (male or female, can be a specific like Gawtin or Vic'tao). Thanks!

Remembrance

Pairing: Gawtin x GN!Reader

Word Count: 3688

Summary: No matter what you do, you lose something. A pencil you just had eyes on. It's gone. You get up to eat and fill up your bottles. The moment you step out of the room, the thought has been plucked from your mind. Beyond everything, you are growing with frustration. It's starting to pile up.

Author Note: I'm sooooo sorry this took so long to get to. Work has pushed my hours past what I want lately (not that I'm complaining about hours, never). It just leaves with no energy or time to write or have freetime. I will be keeping my asks closed for a little longer. I have a couple personal projects I need to finish first.

P.s. Thank you so much for letting me do Gawtin. I love writing about her!

Masterlist

Ao3

This is not beta read, sorry!

One step into the kitchen and the thought on your mind was plucked out. All you could do was staring blankly at the wooden floors. Thoughts were running wild inside of your brain. What were you doing? There was a reason you had come to kitchen. What was it? You chewed at your bottom and tasted blood. Crap, you had torn open the newly scabbed wound.

Your fingers started to twitch, buzzing with energy. With a disappointed shake of your head, you pivoted back around and marched back towards the extra bedroom. Your art room. Gawtin had gifted it to you when the supplies she had been collecting were piling up. You had felt bad for taking up more of her space in her own home. Gawtin wouldn’t let that pass though, stating this was your space as much as hers. All she wants in ‘return’ was to watch you work sometimes.

Gawtin liked to reference watching T.V. on earth. You retorted with the fact it must be a boring show to observe. She never complained. The amazement in her eyes at each stroke of your pencil or brush made you blush.

Art colorful and bland covered the walls. Some painted, others sketches. The last little bit were colored with pencils. That’s a skill you still struggled and didn’t like to put up those finished ones yet. They weren’t up to your standards.

At this point, you had even forgotten that you had forgotten what you were originally doing before leaving here. You sat heavily down in your chair once more and set down your water bottle. It squeaked underneath your weight but stayed sturdy. Another present from Gawtin, the goddess herself.

Said yautja had left earlier, closely after the morning sun had breached the horizon. Rosy, soft fingers spreading out on the yellow-blue sky. Yautja Prime vastly different than earth. Even when the sun fell below and hid away for countless hours, the forest produced a sweating heat during this season. You’ve come to feel a frustrated anger for the hot season. You weren’t built for this weather, no matter where you lived before.

Being human could have it perks out in the universe. When it came to adapting, you did that well. A biting cold, a jacket would do you good. This heat though. A swim in the lake nearby could cool you, if it wasn’t for your ankles getting bitten off a danger. Come to Yautja Prime where everything wanted to kill you and more!

Don’t kid yourself though. Yautja Prime was extraordinary in its own way. It’s not as diverse to biomes as earth. It holds a constant warm climate over everyone, gripping it in a tight grasp. The humidity was horrible. You’ve taken a trip to Hawaii before. This didn’t compare to that. In the end you wouldn’t trade being here than being back on your planet.

Your stomach growled and twisted. Hungry? How were you hungry? When was the-you were going to the kitchen for food! And to fill up on your water bottle. How in the world were you alive at this point with forgetting things like that? Important things as well.

Some days you wondered if Gawtin truly likes you or a small part of her thundering heart pities you. Maybe she thinks of you like Qui? Small, frail, weak. Nothing more, just to protect you from the harsh world you live in. Well, now it was the universe. You shook your head though to clear those thoughts and stood up from the chair. The once discard bottle returned your hand.

The kitchen was midsize. It fit well in Gawtin’s dwelling. Not too big nor too small. A portion had been changed to fit for more variety for yourself. You smiled at the reminder of how much she loved you before going to the fridge for water.

Unlike Gawtin herself, you’re unable to drink straight from the spring nearby. You learned that the first few days you were here. Never. Again. That was one day you wished to perish to the depths of hell and never come back. Worst of all, it was embarrassing. Right in front of Gawtin. But like the steady Yautja she is, she didn’t waver. She just fretted over you, questioning what had happened. One day you hate to recall.

So, Gawtin retrieved a water purifier just for you. It’s design similar to those back home. Praise the lord. You filled up the metal bottle you had and scanned through the fridge. The goddess herself hadn’t let you know when she would return. It couldn’t be long since she left Qui for a nap. She trusted you to care for the child but knew it could overwhelm you at points. God, you loved that alien so much.

The door was closed with your hip once an assortment of berries in a bowl had been chosen. Nothing poisonous, that you’ve learned of yet. You strolled back towards the art room when you heard the front door slide open.

Instinctually, you twirled around to face the known form at the door. There, in all of her glory, stood Gawtin. Not a thing was out of place on her. Perfect, as always. “Hey, love!” you greeted and changed your path to move towards her. Said alien moved into the dwelling and spread her out.

If you were Yautja, you would take offence at the dominate display. You weren’t though. You bounded over to her and embraced her. Gawtin returned not a second later the action and purred. “It is good to see you, artful one,” she said, voice vibrating with her purrs. She gave one last squeeze then released you. “Hmm, those a good choice for a snack.”

That sparked an idea inside of you cranum. You plucked one of the berries from the bowl and held it up to her. With a skill that takes years to master, she pinches the round fruit from your hands and eats it. How she is able to do that? You have no clue.

.

The pencil. Gone. Poof! Where had it gone? One moment it was in your hands. The next, gone from sight and mind. You had just set it down. It had to be right here, on your desk. You had set it down for one second to grab something else. Now it was gone. A groan vibrated your ribcage as you slid down awkwardly in the comfortable chair.

Why does this happen to you? It keeps happening too. One day… it’s going to escalate. One day, it’s going to be a damn pencil. The next, the child. Said child was more than happy on his spot next to you.

Similar to a cat, you created a blanket nest he loves to curl up in and watch you. Those eyes, just like his father, observed every move made. Maybe one day, he’ll have a little artistic side like yourself. It’ll be overpowered by his mother’s side of hunting and learning to survive. But one day, you would love to see what can create with his hands.

Qui clicked something, small mandibles tapping one another. This drew your attention fully down to him, painting, food, and water discarded. “Wassup, kiddo?” you questioned. He was you responsibility for the moment. His mother placed that into your hands to care for him. Plus, a tiny part of your brain saw him as your own kid. You won’t bring that up, ever. You don’t want to confuse or ruin the little family you had going on here.

All he did in response was garble baby talk at you. You snorted with a shake of your head, unable to understand a lick of what he had said. Almost two years of learning of Yautja for yourself and it did nothing to save you in this situation. “Okay then. Have you seen my pencil though? It has decided to disappear.”

Those big eyes of his stare deep into your soul. Hmm, right. No translator either for him. He has listened to you and Gawtin speak in English, but he first needs to learn Yautja. You made motion with your hands as if you were drawing or writing. This seemed to connect the dots inside of his head. Qui-oky brough up a stubby hand to the side of his head and patted. This confused you. Well, you should save, you must’ve puzzled the child with the motion.

When you seemed to not understand him, he reinforced the patting then pointed past you, by your head. Dumbfounded, you turned to see what Qui was motioning towards. As you turned, he screeched with frustration. Your head whipped back down to him, brows heavily furrowed. What in the world?! You’ve only heard him make that noise twice.

With a grumble, the kid stood up on wobbly legs and stumbled over to you. His tiny hands grasped at the clothing on your legs and pulled. It took you a moment to realize he wanted up. You helped him in your lap. Qui unsteadily stood up and tugged on something tucked on top of your ear. That’s when it hit you, hard.

The pencil. It was right there. The whole time. Your lips pressed together as you chewed at the inside of your cheek. With all of your efforts, you were able to stop tears from springing to life.

Qui held the pencil in front of you with a knowing look that you easily read: ‘I was trying to tell you this whole time’. Out of the years of your life, this was one of the most embarrassing times you have ever experienced. A heavy, hot blush raced up from your neck, all the way to the tips of you ears. “Th-thanks, Qui,” you mumbled and grasped the pencil.

Once he believed you could be left with the pencil, he carefully clambered down. The small Yautja returned to his blanket bed and pulled a pelt over him.

It left you stumbling about with your trembling emotions. In the moment, all you could do was peer at the piece of wood and graphite in your shaking hand. How could you fail so hard with simple tasks? Every. Single. Day.

Forgetting to eat. A normal person wouldn’t do that. Or drinking. How could anyone forget to do that? You. You could. An object gets placed down, for just a second and its lost to the voids of the universe. Like this damn pencil. But that’s not all you’ve lost and found – or not. Canvases, brushes, paint, books, etc. The list could go on and on and on.

Your bottom lip wobble. Your eyes burned. No! You weren’t going to cry. You’re stronger than that. Get over it. Any words of encouragement you gave to yourself wasn’t working. With a push harder than you meant to you, you stood up from your chair and marched out of the room. Moving was good. It helped you work out buzzing nerves.

In most cases.

Not this time.

It felt like moving just made your shaking worse. Why was it so hard to remember things? Such a simple thing part of human life and you can fucking do that. And the kid. You fully heartily knew he didn’t mean any harm but it pushed you over the edge.

All of this was piling over the course the day. Probably the course of the month. This had been getting worse lately. For what reason, you had no clue. It kept nagging at you each time you had remembered what had been forgotten. Such a failure. What was Gawtin thinking when she had to help or see you like this? Forgetting easy things around the house. A cup left in the wrong place. A pelt tucked away somewhere you never had put it.

The front door slides open. Your pacing – one creating a hole into the ground – stopped at the sound. Your head whipped to find the goddess in green standing in the doorway. Those vibrant purple eyes already locked onto the moment she was revealed. Your heart stuttered at the sight of her, haloed by the bright, harsh sun that beats down on this planet.

Her predatory eyes softened. It was like she could read your mind and emotions. She knew what was happening before she even saw you. Her long bottom mandibles clicked against one another, nothing of words. “Tressure.” You don’t know what happened but you flinched as if Gawtin had raised a threatening paw. Your shoulders drew up, face twisted with fear. Why? You had no answer.

A sound you’ve never made heard her make pierced through the tense air. She had whined. Not even when the two of you had sex, has she ever made that noise. You kept that pathetic position, unable to look your lover in the eye. How could you? You were a failure at the most easiest things that you human. Can’t do anything right with your life.

“I’m sorry,” you squeaked and played with the hem of your shirt. It was pointless to hold back a dam worth of tears. The walls crumbling underneath the weight. Tears poured down your face and dropped onto the tile floor. “I’m sorry.” It’s all you could say.

The air shifted with movement. Carefully placed steps stalked their way over to you before stopping right in front of you. There was no other person besides her.

Pads of well worn fingers softly scrapped against the skin of your cheek. You fought against her, not wanting her to see the shame and embarrassment that painted your face. Gawtin always won.

With your eyes still closed -not daring to look her in the eye, you easily felt that heavy, piercing gaze settled on you. The course scaled on her thumb grazed the length of your cheek bone. It felt like it slowly softening you up, coaxing you to open up for the goddess.

And it was working.

“My artist, look at me,” she gently demanded of you. The last of your resistance flowed from your veins, vanished with her words. Kind eyes filled with love and concern peered closely at you. Your heart and breath quickening at first. A dreadful fear filling your body from head to toe. An unreasonable reaction to your goddess in green.

“There you are. What is the matter?” she questioned, usually gruff voice quieted with her demeanor. Your eyes darted away, finding anything and everything to look at. Gawtin’s other massive paw joined on the other side of your face. You sagged into the feeling, relishing in the comfort that settled into your bones. It fought against the terror in your veins. “My ooman, I need you to tell me your problems. I will requifiy them.”

By the grace of god, you loved her so fucking much. Her words soothed over you like a warm shower, washing away every bad feeling inside of you. “I-I,” you take a deep breath in, hold it, then released it. “I can’t do anything right,” you finally relented, letting your greatest fault be known to her. Not that she didn’t know already.

This took the Yautja by surprise. She jerked her head back, trinkets and jewelry attached to her tresses slapping against her back and chest. Her mandibles spread out in displeasure. Then, Gawtin started to push at you, crowding you with her massive body towering over you. Soon, your back met the wall, pressed up against with some of Gawtin’s weight.

“No.” Stern. Firm. There was no arguing with the tone she used. One, a mother would use on their child. “Do. Not. Say. That.”

Heartbreak. Gawtin felt a whirlwind of emotions sweep through her body. Yet, her main focus was settled on you. Always on you. She desperately needed to know why you were thinking that way. What had happened while she was gone and fix it. She couldn’t bare to see you like this, broken and upset.

You kept your mouth shut, closed without a sound. Your eyes set on her only. It was fear that paralyzed you once more but not because of her. Never because of her. You don’t know why you were scared but it held you in a tight grip, unable to move or make a noise. It left you trembling in her hold, pressed against the cool wall.

“Why do you think that?” First, assess the situation. Figure out the roots of the problem and work your way up. It broke her mighty heart to see you like this, shaking worse than a leaf. You bit at your bottom lip, kneading it between dull teeth. “You know you can tell me anything, tressure.”

From the bottom of your heart, you desperately knew that. All the time. She was here for you. Caring and keeping an eye on you. “I… things. I can’t remember where I put things. I set it down and poof, it’s gone forever. Why do you keep me around if I can-“ a course palm settled over your lips, silencing you from saying anymore.

“I bear my heart to you,” she said and ended with your name. That caught your attention. She rarely says it. It was always terms of endearment or others. “I adore having you around. It feels lonely, empty in my heart when you are not nearby. I ache for your presence. Do you understand?” Gawtin removed her hand from your mouth to let you speak.

With a drop of hesitance entering your veins, you dipped your head. “That is my answer. You’re my answer to everything, artful one. You color my life with your love, making me realize that I need you. Forever.” Your bottom lip wobbled again, fresh tears filling your eyes. Her words�� They way she spoke. How can she just say that?

“Would you like for me to make an appointment for a healer? They could find solutions to the reason on why you forget so much. And, my ooman, it is okay to forget things. Please don’t get frustrated with yourself. Come to me and we can figure it out. Together.” Gawtin backed off, relenting the pressure that pressed you into the wall. “It is okay to be okay.”

And that’s all you needed to hear.

Tears flowed freely down the length of your cheeks before dropping down to the floor. Gawtin used her thumbs to wipe away a majority of the salty water. “What would you like to do, artful one,” she questioned, voice continuing to low and soft. It felt like it was a brush soothing over the shell of your ear.

“I really want to cuddle, right now,” you answered, eyes darting to the side.

Gawtin dipped her head, thick tresses swaying with the movement. “We can more than happily do that. Let me grab Qui. Then we can cuddle out on the couch,” Gawtin explained and pulled almost fully away from you. Her warmth stolen by the goddess herself.

Your eyes widened. The kid. Qui! Shit, you’ve… forgotten. You are supposed to be watching over him, like a parent. How co- Gawtin nuzzled her temple against yours. Without words, she knew what you needed at the moment. All she needed to do was read your face and bring you from that mindset once more. She grabs at one of your hands and engulfs it with her own.

The tension that clawed through your shoulders was released, falling away like rain. Gawtin began to purr and kissed with her mandibles folded in on the back of your hand. “Qui-oky?” Then she clicked something in Yautja at the child.

Pitter-patter of bare feet slapped against the wooden floors. At the sound, an amused smile graced your chewed lips. Qui appeared in the doorway. Without stopping, he ran all the way to his mother and latched onto her leg. Yautja tumbled from his small mandibles. To you, it sounded all like baby talk. Not a word understood with yourself.

Gawtin bent down, scoop the child off of the ground, and held him in her arms. Qui leaned over to you and plucked something tucked on top of your ear. It was your pencil. He held it to you, in a similar manner compared to earlier. You pressed your lips together and took it back. “Thanks, kiddo.” Your usually soft voice towards him had turned dead. Just another reminder on how you couldn’t function like a normal person.

Out of nowhere, Gawtin grasped the pencil from him and tucked it into a pouch on her clothe belt. Her hand returned to swallow yours and tugged at you to follow her. Without complaint, you shadowed behind the behemoth that she is.

The three of you had settled on the expansive couch. Gawtin was the only one truly sitting on it. Qui had taken his spot between the two of you. You had taken roost on one of her thick, muscular thighs. Your legs straddling her own. You had snuggled underneath her chin, content with the warmth that radiated off of her heavily.

Qui-oky chose to bury himself on the same side as you into Gawtin’s side. She wouldn’t allow you to move either. The two of you stuck against her like this. Not that you were complaining.

A course finger ran up to the base of your skull before threading into your hair. You instantly sagged against her, eyes hooded over. “Good ooman,” she purred softly and scratched at your scalp carefully. Mmmm, that’s the spot. You knew she had to be mentally saying you’re so easy to mess with.

She kept you against her for an unknown amount of time. Nothing else mattered besides your little family. Each one of you had your issues, more than others. None of that mattered to any of you. Just the love that flowed in each of your veins and gulfed everyone.

You may have trouble remembering things. Misplaced items or something just disappearing out of thin air. What you will never forget is the fact that Gawtin and Qui love you with all of their hearts and more.

[loversj0y]

'tis the damn season

chapter one - we could call it even

its your first day back home from winter break, and the overwhelming extent of the holidays leads to some interesting rekindlings

'tis the damn season masterlist

pairing: cc!wilbur soot x gn!reader

fluff and angst (quite a lot of angst in fact)

trigger warnings: reader's mother is abusive (not physically) and father is emotionally absent. this will be talked about in extensive detail. alcohol, some suggestive themes, and a lot of anxiety.

author's note: WELCOME! to the very first installment of a multichaptered fic inspired by taylor swift's tis the damn season! this work has been in progress for about. 4 months now so !! yipee!!! hope u enjoy (chapter two should be out sometime within the next week; i wont make the wait too long between chapters) dont like tumblr formatting? ao3 version is available here!

word count: 6.3k

If you had to be honest, you despised the holidays. It was always stressful, no matter how prepared you tried to be. But regardless, being in your final year of Uni, it was pretty nice to get a final winter break before graduation. The idea of staying with your parents wasn’t ideal. They’d spent years neglecting you and taking a toll on you emotionally, but in the time you’d been gone, it had seemed like things had improved. You agreed to go home for the holidays under this idea, hoping to have a nice break from everything, despite the heavy feeling in your chest that came from being in your hometown – that you’d proudly left behind – and the general dread of the holidays.

Wilbur wasn’t exactly the opposite. While he didn’t mind the holidays themselves, he hated the social conventions of it all. Particularly the insistence that you must be with family or else the holiday isn’t worth anything. However, Wilbur seemed to luck out this year. His mother and stepfather happened to book a cruise for the holidays, and all they wanted from him was to watch the house while they were gone. It gave him both the convention of helping out family without dealing with the mental decline that he gets from actually being around them, mostly his stepfather. So, he’d spend a month in his old bedroom, in the town he dreaded because the number of good memories he’d had all involved one person that left not long before he did.

When you’d finally arrived, it wasn’t long before your parents were hugging you and peppering kisses on your face, talking about how much they’d missed you, and asking if you were eating alright. It was loving, and you did appreciate it, but you felt uneasy. As your mother hugged you, it felt unfulfilling as you looked around the room, each familiar surrounding bringing up memories of your mother’s yelling. You’d settled down fairly easily, which tended to be a perk of returning to your childhood bedroom. After changing into something much more comfortable, you’d returned to where it seemed your family members had accumulated.

“Y/n, darling, my goodness, you’ve grown so much since I’ve last seen you! What are they feeding you out there in London?” It was your aunt who spoke to you. She was tame enough, save for when she got her hands on enough cosmopolitans to feel the need to share everyone’s gossip. 

“It’s nice to see you too. And I cook for myself, in case you were wondering.” You deadpanned. Honestly, you just didn't feel like humoring her advances to pull information out of you. You’d fallen for them as a kid, but now, even with little to hide, you couldn’t quite trust her. 

“Of course, you are, my genius. How’s the dating scene been?” 

You rolled your eyes at the nickname, brushing it off, “Boring as ever.” 

She hummed, taking a sip of her drink.  Ah, looks like she may already be ready to gossip, you thought, noticing the soft flush on her cheeks consistent with her drunkness. Your suspicions were confirmed when she continued, “You know, your mum told me she saw that old fling of yours at the shops the other day. What was his name?” She hummed for a moment, “Wilbur! That’s what it is.” 

Your chest turned to stone in a matter of seconds, and you forced out a response, “Oh, cool.” 

It was not “oh, cool” however, it was very much not cool. You and Wilbur had been friends since the third form, and while you weren’t incredibly close at first, you became much closer as time went on and as social circles grew smaller and smaller.  It came to the point where you two were inseparable, the best friend you’d had even until now. Your “fling” couldn't even really be classified as such. Despite how much you loved Wilbur Soot, you and him just never seemed to break that barrier, save for one weekend in your final year of A-levels. You’d planned to go to prom together, neither of you being romantically involved with anyone else, but you never actually made it to prom. You both went and sat in a field outside the back of the school, sharing a bottle of vodka he’d lifted from his stepdad’s stash. It was then that he’d opened up to you about how embarrassed he felt to be leaving school without having ever kissed a girl before. The mixture of his vodka and your love for him ultimately amounted to a few sloppy kisses, a moment’s worth of making out, before the two of you both had to run from a counselor who was looking for any delinquent students. Neither of you ever addressed it again. 

The years you two had known each other eventually culminated in the same relationship that you had with most people these days: you leaving him and losing contact. You didn’t mean to leave him behind, but between a full scholarship in London and his insistence on how shitty London is, you had to leave. 

You thought about him frequently. There were numerous nights where you’d open up his contact and attempt to draft a message, but it always ended in watching the cursor blink as you struggled to find the words. Honestly, you never thought you’d see him again. You knew nothing about him anymore, what he was like, what he was doing. It was impossible to decide if you dreaded seeing him or would go out of your way to attempt to see him. 

After catching up with your family for a bit longer, you decided to step out. Honestly, you didn’t know where you were going. It was late, almost midnight, and you just needed the fresh air. After walking into town, you found the one thing that would realistically be open this time of night: the pub. It was mostly empty, save for a few older folks sitting in some booths around the wall. You recognized the bartender, he was a few years above you back in school, but he always made an effort to be kind to everyone. He grinned at you once you sat at the bar. 

“Well, if it isn’t Y/N L/N. Shit, I would’ve thought you died," he chuckled, "You visiting for the holidays?” 

“Yep. And trust me, I’d quite rather be dead than be around my whole family all day.” 

He laughed, “Let me guess, a martini for the sophisticated Londoner?” 

You laughed back, “God, no, I haven’t exactly been converted over yet. Just a pint.”

“Still the same as before?” 

“Mmhm,” you nodded out, sighing softly. Being here felt a lot less tense than being at home. At least here you didn’t have to deal with the hushed fights and curses whispered between spouses. 

Wilbur had been incredibly excited by the idea of being alone when he first arrived at his old house a week before. It wasn’t long before it got old. 

“Alright, chat, who should we raid?” 

His chat moved rapidly in response to his words. He’d been playing Minecraft with Tommy, not unlike usual, but he’d been live for an hour and a half, which was a long time to hold up a persona for. Once he’d ended, he stayed on call with Tommy through Discord. 

“I dunno, man. I like being alone, like having the place to myself, but I’ve never felt so lonely,” Wilbur paused, “This place is way bigger than I remember.”

“So go somewhere,” Tommy offered.

Wilbur groaned, “You do understand that there is nothing to do here. It’s part of the reason I settled on Brighton.”

“Oh, c’mon, there’s gotta be something there for you to do. Don’t you have at least, like, a park or a pub maybe? You could go meet women!” 

“Tommy, I know every woman in this town, nobody has moved here or left here since I left,” he sighed, “we do have a pub though. Honestly, that’s not a bad idea. I could go for a drink.” 

“See! Just gotta think outside the box. Have a little optimism, man. Maybe you’ll see that person you knew in school.” 

“Tommy, don’t.” Wilbur genuinely considered leaving the call, his heart sinking at the mention of his old friend, “They haven’t been back since they left, alright?” 

“Yeah, but you never know! Have you thought about what you’d say to them if you did see them?” 

“No,” he groaned, “I don’t know why I’m humoring this, but if I saw them, I’d probably be nice. As much as it hurts, I miss them, and it’s not like I reached out much either, so.” 

Tommy hummed, “Wilbur the Wise, you are. At least maybe if you do see them, you’ll be much less bored.” 

“Yeah, I suppose,” Wilbur sighed, pulling an old beanie on. “Alright, I’m going to head out, talk to you later, man.” 

“Have fun!” 

Wilbur hung up the call after a moment, sighing a bit as he stretched. While he didn’t actually want to go to the pub, it was a better idea than staying in another night. Plus, at least he could get to walk his old path and try and see some of the cats he always used to stop for. 

His walk did end up taking quite a while. He only spotted two cats on the way, but he’d given them as much attention and love as they’d allow. But that wasn’t really what took up so much of his time. He kept going back to what Tommy had asked. Honestly, he did not even consider he’d see you here. For a long time  after you’d left for school, he thought that one day he’d see you walking to the shops and he’d go up to you, and just by saying hello, everything would feel like it used to. After a while, he’d lost hope that he’d ever see you again. He’d tried to find you online, some scrap to see how you had been and to see if you were okay, but he knew he couldn’t exactly just follow you without the risk of questions. He cursed himself for a long while over his pettiness in never reaching out. He thought about that prom night often. Part of him couldn’t make peace with the idea that his best friend, someone who he’d fallen in love with the second they’d spoken to him, was now just a stranger to him. It didn’t make sense to him, but  what made even less sense was when Wilbur opened the door to the pub to find you sitting alone at the bar. 

Wilbur’s breathing went full stop when he saw you. He couldn’t feel his fingers, but whether that was from the cold or the shock he felt seeing you, he couldn’t tell. Once he could feel his body again, he felt his heart pounding in his chest. He’d have to make a choice right now, and he’d have to make one he wouldn’t eventually regret, but-

“Wilbur! Mate, close the door, would you, you’re lettin' in a draft!” 

You felt frozen in your seat when you heard the bartender– whose name, you were kindly reminded, was Liam– yell to Wilbur. You didn’t know if you wanted to look up at him or look anywhere but him. Eventually, curiosity got the best of you, and you looked up directly into his eyes as he stood in the doorway. He seemed to come back to life after a second, turning to walk towards the bar. 

“Uh, right, sorry, man. Could I get a pint?” 

He sat across the corner of the bar, close but still seemingly holding you at a distance. 

After Liam walked away, he turned back to you, and for a moment, you both stared, trying to find words. He’d grown quite fit since the last time you’d seen him. He was still  tall, but not quite as lanky. His shoulders have filled out nicely.  

You decided to start, stuttering a bit as you began, “Hi, Wilbur.”

He seemed to think for a moment before the look faded from his face and something kinder replaced it, “Hi.” 

“How- um,” you contemplated even asking, but you’d rather ask than be sitting here in awkward silence with the boy you’ve loved for years, “How have you been?” 

“I’ve been…” He took in a breath, a moment to compose himself, before responding, “I’ve been good, actually. How about you?” 

You considered lying. “I’m okay, could be better but…”

“But?” 

“Well, I’m still doing the whole uni thing, so still just living in London. Not many developments.” 

“Right. How is London?” 

You thought back to your apartment. Your shitty apartment and your three roommates who you never spoke to, the leaks in the ceilings, the constant noise, the crowds, the grey fogs that would weigh down on your lungs, the deaths on the tube, the harassment just from walking to campus, everything. “It sucks. The city is horrible,” you sighed, “The school is alright, though. The people are standoffish and don’t talk, but the education is good.”

Wilbur looked as though he was fighting off a smile, taking a sip from the beer he’d been given. “I’m sorry to hear that. Glad the school is good. It may not be my place exactly, but do you mind if I say something?” 

Dread filled your chest. “Well, you have to now.” 

A smile crossed his face, his eyes wrinkling at the corners. “I told you so.” 

A moment of processing passed before you burst into laughter. Of course, after all the years you knew Wilbur Soot, you probably could have predicted that would be the first thing he’d want to say to you. 

“Okay, okay, I can admit. Maybe you were a little right. I’ve got my regrets, but despite the city, I don’t hate my choice,” you took a sip from your pint, “what about you? How’s life been?” 

He shrugged a bit, “I’d say good. I did some schooling online and graduated a bit ago. Been doing some work, uh, online, so yeah. It’s been good.” 

“Oh, that sounds cool. Anything I’d know?” 

 “Uh, maybe…” He went quiet for a moment before continuing, “I work for Twitch if you know that company.” 

You shrugged, “I know of them. That’s cool though, I’m glad you found something you enjoy.” 

He smiled a bit, “Yeah, it’s been nice. I’ve made quite a few friends.”

“Really?” That was a bit of a surprise, “Shy little Wilby is making work friends?” 

He seemed to flush a bit, chuckling, “I’ve gotten better about the shyness.” 

“That’s good. You seem to be doing better in that department than I have. I haven’t changed much at all, I think.” 

He hummed, pondering. He stared for a moment, and you almost felt shy under his gaze. Finally, after what felt like ages, he spoke up, “You do your hair differently. You used to part it to the side.” 

You laughed, surprised by the unexpected statement, instinctively reaching up to fix some stray hairs. It brought a blush up to your cheeks, as you couldn’t remember the last time someone had noticed such a small detail as that. You bit your lip for a moment before responding, “Yeah, I- I guess so. Though, to be fair, we kind of had the whole edginess thing going on back then. Had to look the part.”

“Very true,” He snorted a bit, “I still listen to the same music for the most part though.” 

“Oh, let me guess. Favorite band is still Los Campesinos!?” 

“Yeah,” he laughed, “though I play a bit of my music now too.” 

“Oh?” that was a major development. Wilbur spent a significant amount of time in school talking about how much he wanted to play music, always humming some tune to himself, “Will, that’s fantastic. You’ll have to show me sometime.” 

“I could show you now, if you’d like. I’m just watching the house for my parents, so I brought some of my music equipment with me.”

You don’t know what made you so willing to say yes. Maybe it was the fact that you’d finished your pint. Maybe it was just the way that being here and talking to Wilbur made the heaviness in your chest finally lighten up since you first realized you’d have to go home. Either way, before you knew it, you and Wilbur were walking back to his place, chatting lightly the whole way there. 

“Wow, this place hasn’t changed.” 

You took off your coat as you and Wilbur entered his front door. 

“My parent’s haven’t made much of an effort to change things. They think the nineties are still in.” He joked lightly as he locked the door behind you both. 

You chuckled, “Yeah, I can see that.” You followed him up the stairs, “So, you said you were just watching the place for them. I take it you don’t live here anymore?” 

“Nope, I’ve been living in Brighton, actually. I think you’d really like it. It’s still England, so it’s not great, but the ocean is gorgeous.” 

“I’ve been meaning to go down there, actually. It’s only about an hour's train from me, so sometimes my roommates go down there for long weekends. I just haven’t had the time.” 

He hummed, “Well, whenever you do have the time, let me know. I’ve got a pretty nice spare room. Plus, I could introduce you to my mates.”

You smiled softly, mostly to yourself, “Yeah. That would be nice.” 

He sat down on his bed, reaching behind him and grabbing his guitar.  You  took a moment to look around the room. The same posters were still hung up, the dents in the wall from you and him goofing off and throwing things, even the scuffs on the floorboards from when you and him rearranged all his furniture. In the years of separation, you expected more of a difference. The only actual difference was that the room was cleaned for once. You hesitated before sitting next to him as you made your observations. He noticed. 

“What’s up?” 

I shrugged, “It’s weird. Being back here, I mean. I haven’t sat here since A-levels.”

He nodded, thinking it over for a moment. “Yeah. It is a bit weird. Doesn’t it kind of seem like nothing’s changed though?” He chuckled, “I mean, despite the time gap, you always did say being here made you feel safe.” 

“Yeah,” I sighed, “the feeling is still there. I just feel… weird. I’m used to missing you and all of our memories, but I’m not used to being here again after everything that has changed.” 

He smiled slightly, “you missed me?”

I chuckled, “Obviously, man. I missed you every day. Missed having a best friend to bully.” 

He snorted, “Hey, all of our bullying was friendly. Unlike some of the other wankers at our school.”

You laughed, throwing your head back, “Oh god, yeah. Bloody hell, man, I feel bad for their kids. Marshall’s going into medicine, and my god, I pray I never end up as his patient. I feel like his negligence alone would kill me.” 

Wilbur laughed, leaning into you a bit. “God, that is not a man who should have a medical license,” he sighed softly. “Don’t fret, though. I missed you a lot too. I missed having someone yell at me to go outside or cut my hair.” 

You laughed, “Yeah, my yelling comes from a good place, though.” 

He hummed, “True. It did help me not go stir-crazy for a while there.” He paused for a moment, turning towards you slightly. “Wait, if you missed me, then… why didn’t you ever call?” 

You took a deep breath, sighing softly. “Honestly, at first… I thought you might be mad at me for leaving. We did kind of have a whole argument about it, and I didn’t know if you’d want to hear from me. And then, once some time had passed, I considered it. I considered looking you up and trying to talk to you, or even just texting you, but I just felt like it might’ve been weird for me to just text you out of the blue. I didn’t want you to think I was just contacting you because I needed something or something stupid like that. I got busy, and more time passed, and reaching out just felt weirder and weirder each time I considered it.” 

He nodded softly. He didn’t make eye contact as he listened and thought. “If I’m being honest as well, I didn’t want to hear from you at first. I was pretty upset. But after a while, I just missed my best friend. And I was going to text you, but I thought you’d be upset with how we left things. I wanted you to reach out because if I had hurt you, I couldn’t handle reaching out only to get anger, or even worse, just silence,” He sighed, “but if I knew you were thinking the same, I would have dedicated as much effort as I have to keep you in my life.” 

You flushed a bit, “I would have too.” You made eye contact with him and everything felt warm for a moment, as if his gaze was sunlight peering through dark clouds. 

“Now that I know, though,” he started, “I am going to annoy the fuck out of you.”

You laughed loudly at that, grinning up at him, “I wouldn’t have it any other way. We’ve got a few years to make up for after all.” 

He grinned softly, looking down for a moment. He pulled his guitar up a bit, smiling, “Well, now that that’s settled. Let me play you something.” 

Wilbur’s music was beautiful. He played for an hour before he decided to stop, something about not wanting to play anything he hadn’t quite finished yet. 

“Always the perfectionist, you are,” you commented as he placed his guitar down. 

“Not always, I’ve gotten better about it. But I want to impress you mostly.” 

“Really?” He sat back down on the bed next to you, “You wanted to impress me?” 

He nodded, humming out a soft ‘mmhm’. 

“If I knew we were trying to impress each other, I would’ve made my life sound much cooler.” 

“Oh, really, how so?” 

“I dunno, would’ve made it sound like I have some millionaire boyfriend who takes me to Spain for a casual date.” 

He hesitated, his teeth taking his bottom lip in thought. “Do you have one?”

“A millionaire boyfriend?” You laughed out, “No, Wilbur, I d-“

“No, I just meant like, a boyfriend.” 

“Oh.” You frowned a bit, “No. I don’t. Haven’t exactly gotten to know many people there. Plus, all the men are quite shit.” 

He nodded, “Just like everything else in London?”

“Pretty much,” You chuckled softly, “What about you though? A handsome guy like you in Brighton, I’m sure you’ve gotten yourself, someone, by now.”

He shrugged, “Tried it out for a while, but I just didn’t have much luck.” He stopped as he processed your response in full, “Hold on, handsome? You think I’m handsome?” He teased. 

You lightly blushed, rolling your eyes, “Obviously, man. You’ve always been quite fit. Especially with that haircut rather than that straight line cut you used to have.” 

He laughed, “God, that was horrendous. Well, wait, how about now,” he took his hands and pushed his hair back, revealing his forehead. 

You burst out laughing, “Somehow, yes, even if your forehead takes up half your face.” 

He laughed, moving his hands and shaking his head to get his hair to fall back into place. “I can safely say, I find myself quite flattered. Especially coming from an incredibly pretty person such as yourself.” 

You flushed a soft pink, “You think?”

“No, I don’t think, I just know facts.” 

You blushed darker, chuckling. “Well, thanks.” You lightly nudged him with your side. 

He repeated the action, albeit slightly harder. You two did this for a moment, each going slightly harder until he’d accidentally gone a bit too hard, knocking both of you down. 

You both laughed, him laying his head against your side for a moment, before pulling himself up and holding himself up by his arm above you. 

“You’re still as goofy, Mr. Soot.” 

“Only with you.” 

“Oh?”

“Actually, no. But this kind of goofy, yes.” 

“And what kind is that?” 

He just stared down at you for a moment. You felt yourself flush a bit under his gaze, and you stared back up at him. The light from his room gave him a soft halo glow around his head that made him look completely angelic. You’d always thought him attractive, but fuck he was ethereal like this. 

“The kind I do to make pretty people laugh.” 

Your breath hitched, but you were quiet otherwise. You couldn’t remember a time when your best friend was ever so… bold. Maybe part of you was reading into the tension, but the most gorgeous man you’d ever know just called you pretty. That plus his position above you was enough to make your heartbeat faster. You wanted to kiss him. Something in you felt so strongly the urge to wrap your hands around his neck and kiss him. For some reason you couldn’t quite fathom, though, you didn’t. 

“Well, feels nice being special, then.” 

He laid down next to you, the both of you just staring at the ceiling for a few quiet moments as the tension diffused. 

He turned to you. “I can’t tell if I still know almost everything about you or if I know nothing anymore.” 

“I can’t tell either.” You turned back to him, sighing, “Honestly, you probably still know more about me than I do.” 

“You think?” 

You nodded. 

He thought to himself, “Still play Minecraft?” 

“God, no,” You laughed, “I wish. I just don’t have the time for anything like that. I’ve just been studying constantly.” 

“Unfortunate. If you ever need a break from studying, we could always play together.” He hummed, “ They’ve added a lot of cool things to the game.”

“You still play?” 

“Yeah,” he nodded, “I play a lot. It’s a fantastic narrative tool, in fact.”

“Oh, really?”

“If you have enough people willing to work out a story and act it out, it makes for a cool platform to tell stories.” 

You smiled, despite it being only for Wilbur’s sake. Honestly, you were sad that you didn’t know what he was talking about. 

“What’s up?” 

“Hm?” You questioned softly. 

“Something’s wrong. I still know one of your fake smiles when I see them.”

“Oh,” you mumbled, “no, it’s just… I missed you. I’m a bit bummed that I can’t see the cool stuff you’ve done since.”

“Well,” he started, rubbing the back of his neck, “actually, you can.” 

You gave him a confused look as he continued. 

“You know how I mentioned I worked for Twitch?” You nodded, “well when I say that, I mean that I stream, actually, so playing live for people and that includes all my stories.”

“Wilbur, that’s amazing.”

“I know,” he laughed, “I’m still shocked people are interested in what I write and create.” 

“If they’re anything like your DnD campaigns, I’m not shocked at all.”

He laughed again, throwing his head back, “Oh, man, I loved making those as convoluted as possible though, you were the one who made the stories make sense. These are more streamlined since we have to deal with so many different schedules and coordinate stuff.” 

“God, that sounds stressful. I can barely coordinate plans with one person.” 

He shrugged, “It’s easier since streaming is all of our jobs. It’s more like assigning work shifts.”

You hummed, “That makes sense.”

“Yeah, I can send you some stuff from it. Though, be warned, without your aid, some pieces of lore are wildly convoluted.” 

You chuckled, “I expect nothing less.” 

You and Wilbur continued to talk for hours, just catching each other up on life and new habits, and every detail missed between the cracks of time you two were separated from each other. You couldn’t be sure when you or Will fell asleep, but you woke up feeling safer than you’d had in a long time. When you’d briefly woken up to the morning light coming through the blinds, and you noticed his lanky arm wrapped around you, you gently reached down and held his hand in yours before falling back into the kind arms of rest. 

You woke up again about two hours later. You were facing him now, both of your legs wrapped between each other, and his arm was still lightly cupping your back. You opened your eyes to see him still sleeping, a soft and peaceful expression on his face. You gently reached a hand up to brush some of his hair away from his eyes. You were so busy staring at his soft features that you barely noticed his eyes open. 

“Good morning to you too, then,” he spoke, his voice laced with sleep. 

Your hand jumped back, a blush immediately rising to your cheeks, “Sorry.”

“‘s alright. Felt quite nice, actually.” He blinked the sleep out of his eyes after a moment, and he flushed himself, going to move his hand off your waist, “Oh, sorr-“

“No.” You stopped him, his arm halting midair, “It’s okay. It felt quite nice,” you said, mimicking his words from a moment ago. 

He blushed, cautiously lowering his arm back onto your side. 

“Did you sleep well?” He asked. 

“Yeah. Your room feels more familiar than mine, honestly.” 

He chuckled, his laughter slightly gruff from the early morning, “You probably spent more time here than at your own place, so I can’t say I’m shocked.”

You laughed, “Oh, almost definitely. What about you, did you sleep well?” 

He smiled at you, nodding, “Best I’ve slept since I got here. I felt much less lonely.” 

“I know what you mean. My room kind of just feels cold. Not temperature-wise, but just like,” you sighed, “you know what I mean.”

“Luckily, I do.” He smiled, “You’re welcome to stay here again, if you like.”

You hummed, “I might consider it. Though I would like to stop home to put on something clean.” 

He nodded, “Right, of course, yeah. I actually have to stream today, too, so, if anything, just,” he trailed off, “text me around eight?” 

“Yeah,” you nodded, “That sounds good. I can bring some food from home too, given that I know you have probably just been eating takeout or, god forbid, have been trying to cook by yourself.”

“Hey, I’m much better at cooking than I used to be,” he laughed. “You’re right about the takeout, though.” 

You snorted, “I know you well, Mr. Soot.” 

He smiled fondly, “You sure do.” 

The two of you just lay there quietly, basking in the early air and light. After a few minutes, you sighed, leaning your head against his chest quietly. 

“Is everything alright?” He whispered. 

You nodded against him, burying your face deeper against him while he wrapped his arms tighter around you. You felt emotional all of a sudden as you held onto him: Your best friend, who you’d secretly loved for years. And now, you thought about what held you back in the past. The main thing you were afraid of was losing him, but in the end, that ended up happening anyway. Love confession or not, you lost him, and now, you were given another chance by whatever fateful creature may exist out there. And as insistent as you were to not lose this chance, your logic stopped you. This trip was just that: a trip. In two weeks, you’d be back to your place in London and he would be back in Brighton. But yet there was an ache in your chest, consistent with longing and want but entirely unattainable. 

“Stop thinking so much,” he spoke softly, placing his chin on top of your head. 

“Wilbur, you know that is entirely impossible for me.” 

“Okay,” he trailed off, “then do you want to talk about it, so it can at least be out of your head?”

You did. You wanted to talk about it all, in its entirety, if only just to know if the ache present in your chest matched an ache in him. But you couldn’t. If that ache wasn’t present in him, who would you be to share it with him? The solution seemed to lie in half-truths.

“I’m just thinking about how I go home in two weeks and how much I’m dreading it. I don’t want to go back to schoolwork.”

He hummed, nodding, “It’s probably not helpful to say, but if you dwell on that the whole time you’re here, then it will come twice as fast. You’ve got to slow your brain down a bit. Try and just be in the moment.” 

You snorted, “That’s rich coming from you.” 

He chuckled, “Hey, my anxiety might take over sometimes, but it really does help to try and just focus on what’s happening, you know. You’re safe here,” he lightly kissed the top of your head, “so just focus on being here.” 

You sighed, “I’ll try.” You shifted your focus to the soft sound of his heartbeat against your ear, the feeling of his arms wrapped around your back. Every detail was comprised of him. 

You eventually did have to go home, after receiving a frantic call from your mum about how you “couldn’t just sneak off every time you got bored” which, granted, you disagreed with; you knew this town like the back of your hand, and you’re an adult so it’s not like she can dictate your every move. When you made it home, you went to your room to change and shower, but your thoughts immediately drifted back to Will. You never really noticed just how many minute details you had memorized, like the way his eyes crinkled when he laughed, or the way he would tilt his head back when something that caught him offguard made him really laugh. You thought about the way he would hiccup in between laughter so strong it made his ribs hurt. The sly smile he would give you when you made eye contact but neither of you had anything to say.  Your thoughts were entirely consumed by him. 

By the time it was dinner, you had done almost extensive research into Wilbur’s online persona. You watched as many videos as you could, some of his, some of them fan-made. It was a weird concept, your best friend having fans. You’d gone onto the online space briefly before backing away. You didn’t exactly want to intrude on fan debates given how much you knew about Wilbur really. It was odd watching him talk to his chat and everything. It was so different. He didn’t seem like the shy, almost moody, boy you knew. He was much more confident and comfortable. It did warm your heart to see him being so strong in himself. Your mind wonderer over this new information, how different he was from the person you knew, as you ate. You almost didn’t hear your mum speaking to you. 

“Dear, are you listening?”

You brought yourself out of your thoughts, grimacing. She hated when you weren’t listening, “Oh, sorry. No, uhm, what’s up?” 

She frowned, giving you a cold stare, “I asked if you’ve found any jobs lined up yet. For after graduation?” 

You sighed, “Not yet, Mum.”

“Because my old work friend, Charles, he could use the extra folks there. They’re looking into expanding into America.” She never actually cared much about what you wanted to do, always trying to push you into the field she wanted you to pursue. 

“I’ll be fine. I can find a job myself. And Charles doesn’t even work in the same field my degree is in.” 

“Just trying to help,” she tutted, tucking her arms defensively in front of her. “What’s on your mind these days?” 

You shrugged tensely, “School and work. I haven’t had time for much else.”

She cooed, almost mocking, “You really should be looking into a relationship, dearie. You don’t want all the good ones taken, right?” 

“God, mum, stop that. I’m fine on my own.” 

“But are you happy?” She laughed, as if taunting you. 

“I resent the implication that I cannot be perfectly fine and happy on my own without the presence of another person to fulfill me.” You spat.

“I’m not saying that specifically, I’m just saying, you really ought to try harder. I’m sure most people don’t find your constant sweatpants that attractive.” 

You groaned, standing. “I can’t be here for this anymore.” 

She did this every year. Constantly reminding you of your own loneliness under the guise of being thoughtful and caring, rather than just understanding that you are your own person who’d rather be alone before feeling like someone’s personal doll. 

You strode to the kitchen, filling a container with some leftovers for Wilbur as your mother tried helplessly to justify her own points. You waved her off, grabbing your bag before walking out the door.

You let out a sigh once you headed out. You walked to the end of the street and sat on the curb, pulling out your phone to text Wilbur. Once you got confirmation that you could come, you stood and walked the short distance to his place.

He opened the door, and you walked in casually. 

“You look annoyed about something,” he noted. 

“I would like you to take a wild guess,” you hummed, handing him the leftovers. 

He murmured a quick ‘thank you’ before responding, “Your mum?” 

“Still as bad as before, she is.” 

He sighed, “At least you’ve got mine to hide out at. Want to watch a movie or something?” 

taglist: @shubblelive / @superioritycomplexes (dm me or send an ask to be added!)

[cherri-tomato]

Venomous.

Chapter 2: Coffee Cups

Pairing: SpiderMan x fem!venom!reader

Chapter Summary: Y/n's hunger grows, Venom is a pain, and Peter provides some much needed comfort.

Chapter content: non-descriptive vomiting, eating

Series masterlist

<Previous Next>

Y/n woke up with a pounding headache and a biting hunger. She rolled over. It was Saturday, she remembered, then the rest of her memories hit her, and she sat straight up, eyes wide.

“...Venom?” she spoke into her empty room, and she'd never been so glad she’d forked over that extra money for a single room as she was in that moment. Her breathing hitched as the same black head from the night before poked itself out from around her shoulder, and she was barely able to stop herself from screaming as its white eyes—if you could call them that��bore into hers. She could see her own horrified reflection in them.

“That’s me—or rather, us.” 

She took a deep breath. “What are you?” Her hands were clenched into fists at her sides and Venom's strange head tilted.

“Veno-” 

She cut it off with a swift shake of her head. “No. I mean what are you? not who.” Venom just stared at her, and she wondered if maybe it didn't understand her somehow, but then it spoke again. 

“We are a symbiote. And you-” its face moved closer. “You are our host.” 

She shuddered. “And…you eat…people?” 

Venom moved its head in the same way someone would move their hand when making a ‘so-so’ gesture, and her eyebrows knitted together. “Brains,” it corrected, and another wave of revulsion fell over her.

She choked out a noise like a pained animal. “Jesus.” Her next words tasted bitter on her tongue as she said them. “So…that guy last night-”

Venom licked its teeth; if it could grin any wider she was sure it would have. “Was a bit lacking in the brains department, but it'll tide me over I suppose~” 

She really was going to be sick. throwing her blankets to the side and rushing into her bathroom. She threw up once, then again for good measure, before wiping her mouth with the back of her hand and falling back against the wall. Her breaths came out in hard pants as she contemplated her current predicament. A brain eating…thing, symbiote, whatever—had taken over her body, and had used said body to bite a guy's head off. Right.

She threw up again at the thought. 

It took about 20 minutes before she finally got herself off the floor and made her way to the mini fridge that held all the food—she knew someone would steal if it was in the shared dormitory kitchen—and some water bottles that she immediately chugged, ignoring the way half the water spilt down her chin and soaked the front of her shirt. By the time she had drunk every one of the 7 or so bottles, she could practically feel her stomach eating itself with hunger, and she got to work devouring the rest of the contents of her fridge. 

Saturday passed in a blur of getting sick, arguing with venom and eating food that made her sick. She fell asleep at around 10 pm, which was actually fairly early for her, and woke up at 4 am feeling parched, nauseous and starving in a way she hadn't felt before. She groaned and then gasped as Venom´s head entered her field of view, “FUCK! Do you have to do that?!” She sat up, rubbing at her face until her skin was red.

“If you feed us, we’ll stop,” Venom hissed, and y/n promptly laid back down and covered her face with her pillow.

The dorm kitchen was mercifully empty when y/n eventually made her way downstairs; her hunger had gotten worse and she desperately wanted to eat. The fridge didn’t have much in it—most people did what she had been doing, keeping a mini fridge in their dorm room—and what was there was fairly bare bones. 

She ate what was there, silently apologizing to her dorm mates for eating all their food, but still felt the sickening hunger in her stomach. 

Venom’s voice spoke then. “Come on kid, it doesn’t even need to be human. Just some sheep or cows.” 

She shuddered. “How do I know you won’t just go on a rampage the minute I let you take over?” Her voice was shaky. She wanted to say no, to tell venom to shove it, but she was so hungry. “No…I can’t just…”

She sighed, grabbed a bottle of water and quickly made her way back to her room.

────────────

When Monday came, y/n was tired, miserable and starving.

Her classes started that afternoon, advanced calc first, then art history, and finally photography class. She’d realized far too late that she had in fact lost her camera, surmising it was probably destroyed or buried under debris in that god forsaken laboratory. 

“Shit,” she muttered as she dug through her backpack in search of the device, only to pull out loose papers and textbooks.

“Y/n, if you could take your seat?” The photography teacher's stern voice brought her out of her spiraling thoughts. She cleared her throat uncomfortably before zipping her bag back up and heading to her desk, head ducked.

Y/n’s seat was beside a tall brunette boy named Peter Parker. They hadn't ever talked much; a simple ‘hi, how are you?' or ‘did you complete the homework assignment?’—it was friendly, but she wouldn't call it friendship. 

Peter nodded in greeting as she took her seat beside him, her head immediately landing on her desk as she dropped her bag. “Woah, someone’s tired. You okay?” Peter inquired, offering her a boyish smile. She turned her head to look at him, and somewhere in her sleep deprived, starving, mind, venom eyed the young man with unmistakable interest, or rather, hunger. 

“Oh, he’s definitely got a juicy brain in that little head of his~” 

She nearly choked on her spit, immediately sitting up and looking forward, keeping her eyes off the brown haired man. 

Something was placed in front of her, and when she looked down she saw that Peter had moved his paper coffee cup into her line of sight. Her eyes darted over to him. Was he teasing her with the knowledge he had made the clever decision to get some caffeine, or offering it to her?

“I haven't drank from it yet. No germs, I promise,” he said while nudging it closer to her. The smell of hot coffee filled her senses. 

“Seriously?” her hand was already half lifted towards the cup, and peter snorted then nodded. 

“Yeah, no cooties I swear.” 

She rolled her eyes, her fingers already wrapped around the warm beverage as she spoke again, “no, i mean are you seriously giving this to me?” She asked. 

Peter was pulling his books out of his bag and placing them on the desk as he waved her off, “you clearly need it more than i do.”

And then it was her turn to chuckle as she lifted the steaming drink to her lips and took a long gulp. The liquid burned her tongue but she ignored it, drinking at least half of it before putting it down and sighing. Peter's taste in coffee was different from hers; the drink was bitter with a slight hint of chocolate and caramel that left a tangy but pleasant aftertaste in her mouth.

Peter was watching her with a raised eyebrow and an amused smirk on his lips “late night?” He sounded just as amused as he looked, and y/n came to the realization he probably assumed she was hungover or something. 

She felt the sudden urge to defend herself, but how was she supposed to explain she hadn't been up all night partying but was instead being tormented by a symbiote that had invaded her life and had been yelling at her to find a brain to eat…yeah, that definitely wouldn't go over well.

Y/n only shrugged, chewing her bottom lip—which had become bitten and raw over the weekend—and Peter's amused expression turned into one of worry. His hand landed on her shoulder in the type of comforting touch one would expect from a friend rather than a virtual stranger, and her skin prickled under her shirt.

“Seriously,” Peter started speaking again, “are you okay?” 

She managed a small nod and Peter's hand dropped, which Y/n was immensely grateful for since she could hear Venom’s hungry thoughts gnawing at the back of her mind.

Her skin was still tingling as the professor started the lesson and began to speak about lighting techniques or something, Y/n wasn't exactly listening.

She stopped at a butcher after class, purchasing as much raw meat as possible with her…limited resources, before quickly making her way back to her dorm, pointedly avoiding the few people she passed as she shoved her door open. 

Venom didn't wait long before emerging, devouring the raw meat with only two bites before disappearing into her and saying, “This won't satisfy us for long.” She knew that. “You know what you have to do.” She did, though that didn't make the reality of her situation any less sickening.

“You can't just expect me to go around eating innocent people.” 

Venom made a noise that was probably an equivalent to a scoff, and she clenched her fist. “You didn't have much of an issue with it last time.” 

She grit her teeth. The feeling of bile rising in her throat had become upsettingly familiar since Venom’s arrival. “What other choice did I have?” Y/n pulled her knees to her chest, the memory of that woman, huddled in a corner and shaking with fear, somehow haunted her more than what she—what Venom—had done to protect her. 

Venom’s head poked out from around her shoulder and she flinched; the sight of its tar-like face and empty eyes was hardly a comforting one. “Come on, kid,” Venom spoke, “a couple less bad eggs wouldn't be a bad thing.”

She scoffed. “And what happens if someone sees me—you? Venom.” It was all very confusing to talk about. 

Venom laughed, and the sound did nothing to quell the unease twisting in her gut. “An extra snack~” 

She glared at the grinning head that was Venom. “Oh, shut up. Just because you have no moral compass doesn't mean I'm the same…” 

She rubbed her face with her hands and forced herself to stand. Upon walking over to her desk, she rummaged through her bag until she pulled the culmination of crumpled papers that was her homework out, and set to work on it.

────────────

The next day, Peter was waiting in his usual seat with two cups of steaming coffee, one placed in front of her usual spot.

[eri3ne]

hope less romantics

sprace fanfic

Racetrack Higgins was a newsie, a gambler, and a troublemaker. A jack-of-all-trades if you will. He was all these things to the public, and on his own time, he was something of a hopeless romantic. Hopeless, not in the way that he spent all of his time consumed by the idea that love would come along and everything would be alright. That one day he would meet “the one” and know immediately and without any issue “true love” and all that. He was not naive enough for that. But, sometimes, late at night or on days when business was slow, he would let his mind wander. He would imagine what it would be like to love, and be loved. To share his life with someone he cared about. To share the boring, mundane parts or life with. But, another thing that Race was, is a realist. And he had accepted that that just, wasn’t gonna happen for him. He could imagine and daydream as much as he wanted, but he didn’t lead a life where romance was anywhere near his top priority. It probably shouldn’t even be in the top fifty things Race should be thinking about. And yet, here he was.

Spot Conlon was The King of Brooklyn, feared by newsies throughout all of New York. But, in reality, he was just another kid, another kid with, what felt like, the weight of the world on his shoulders. He knew that he had grown up all too soon, but he wouldn’t have it any other way. Though, sometimes he wondered what it might be like to not have all of his responsibilities and such a reputation to uphold. But, he would never pass it on to someone else, he couldn’t imagine not doing what he does. Most of the time he enjoys it. Well, as much as someone can enjoy being a newsie and being “in charge” of at least fifty of your peers at any moment. But there were perks to it, like friends that became family. Spot loved his life despite the less than desirable work conditions and the stress he often felt. He’d accepted his place in the word and decided to make the most of it.

-

Race was running down a sidewalk in Brooklyn heading for the bridge and back into Manhattan when he ran into Spot Conlon for the first time. And he did just that, ran straight into the guy, didn’t even realize he was there. The two boys fell to the ground at the collision. Race scrambled to apologize as quickly as possible while jumping up and running off simultaneously. Spot just sat there for a moment confused. No more than a few seconds later, Spot saw an older looking man running in the same direction yelling, but he couldn’t quite tell what the man was saying. And that only made him more confused. Who was that kid? Who was the man chasing him? Why was that man chasing him? The boy, in his haste, had dropped and left his bag. And out of curiosity Spot picked up the bag, its contents were quite minimal, a couple of newspapers and a hefty handful of change. Now, Spot didn’t know the boy this bag belonged to, but he was pretty sure that he knew where its home was.

Usually, after he was finished working for the day, Spot would go back to the lodging house, play cards with his friends, grab a bite to eat, and then go to sleep. But, today, he missed out on his nightly routine to take the long trek to the Manhattan newsies lodging house. Despite his fantastic reputation, Spot is a pretty nice guy, he normally wouldn’t go this far out of his way to return a lost belonging, maybe he was just feeling particularly generous on this particular day. So off he went, the stranger's bag in hand.

It was a surprisingly pleasant walk, and eventually Spot arrived at his destination. The door was propped open so Spot decided that that was an invitation to just go in. The first face he saw was a familiar one, Crutchie, one of the newsies always hanging around Jack Kelly.

“Jack around?” Spot asked when he noticed the confused air of the boys around him.

“Haven't seen him in a few.” Crutchie continued with a smile, “But, I could take a message if you needed?”

Spot thought for a moment, “Nah, no need.” He held out his hand with the boy's bag, “Just return this to its owner. I’m pretty sure one of your guys left it over in Brooklyn this afternoon.”

“Oh!” Crutchie and Spot heard from a distant corner of the room over the sound of a boy jumping up and promptly falling back down. They looked over and saw a boy making his way over. “That- that's mine. Gimmie just a sec…” The boy reached them, slightly out of breath, and stood directly facing Spot. He stuck out his hand, to either shake Spots hand or grab his bag, both of the boys were quite unsure. So, Spot quickly shook the boy's hand, and immediately handed the boy his bag.

He turned to leave and, so as to not be rude, said, “That's all, night fellas.”

And, as he was leaving, Spot heard a quiet “Thanks” from the boy. Who had seemed just as flustered then, as when he had sprinted directly into Spot a few hours beforehand.

-

Race had no clue what to do with himself. His whole day seemed to be a big string of disasters. He had managed to sleep an hour late, and not a single one of his friends had thought to wake him up. So he got a late start, he went and picked up some papers and headed off to work. By the afternoon, he found himself over in Brooklyn. Playing cards. With a group of rather terrifying men who were easily twice Races’ size.

And, maybe he’d cheated a few times during the game, and maybe he gained money when he shouldn't have. But, what the men didn’t know couldn’t hurt them. And besides, it was in his nature, he couldn’t help it, the risk is what makes playing the game so much fun. That is, until someone notices. And that is exactly what happened. And the guy Race had been “stealing from” seemed pretty serious about getting his money back.

So, Race made the most logical decision.

Start running.

And lucky for Race, he was fast, and this guy didn’t seem like he could say the same. So, he gathered his things, newly earned money included, and he was off. He was weaving through the streets and alleyways, street vendors and commuters with ease. Until. Until he turned his head to see how far he was from the man who was chasing. And-

Whack!

Race ran into something, well…someone. And, full disclosure, he was pretty much just planning on jumping back up and bolting. That is, until he glanced over and noticed who exactly he had run into. The Spot Conlon. All he could think for just a moment was, wow. This was Spot Conlon, the king of Brooklyn, right in front of him. And then, Race dropped back into reality. He was being chased by a grown man and had just run Spot Conlon to the ground. That thought of “wow”, quickly turned into a mental stream of “fuckfuckfuckfuck.” As he quickly said sorry, and did as he had planned to as soon as he fell down.

Race ran all the way back to Manhattan and somewhere along the way he lost the guy chasing him. But by the time he got there he had honestly, sort of forgotten why he was running, he had gotten a bit caught up in doing it, and the horrible interaction that he had along the way that he didn’t even care about the situation that got him there. He had gotten out of it, and that was really all that mattered to Race.

By the time he got back to the lodging house, Race had come to two conclusions.

Number one: Well that was embarrassing

And number two: he had lost his bag along the way.

He had lost his bag. Along with the money. But, he supposed there was nothing he could do about it. It was gone and he was pretty sure that he would never get it back.

Race had gotten over the embarrassment and the loss within a couple of hours. He had gotten engulfed in some random conversation which was no doubt being blown out of proportion, when, out of nowhere, it felt like the air had been sucked right out of the room. And everyone’s attention turned to the doorway.

Race half expected there to be some sort of fight going on at the door, but he was wrong.

Spot. Conlon. Was at the door. He was having a conversation with Crutchie, but from the far corner of the room, Race couldn't tell what they were talking about. But after a moment he saw Spot hold up a bag. Race’s bag. Well, he got it back. But right now he kinda wished he hadn’t.

In a moment where Race had evidently lost any control of his own body, he found himself getting up from the table where he had been talking with his friends, walking over to the door and saying the words, “Thats mine,” as well as some other muttering that no one, not even Race, could quite make out. But he eventually got up to the front of the room and retrieved his belongings. Race had no clue what to do with himself after the fact. So. He just stood there for a second, and sorta just looked at him. Spot that is. Eventually, Spot turned to leave and Race finally found it in himself to say thank you. But, honestly, he wasn’t quite sure the words actually came out of his mouth because absolutely no one reacted. As soon as Spot was gone, Race turned back around and went right up the stairs and lay in his bed just staring at the ceiling.

Well…that was fuckin’ embarrassing.

So. New lesson learned. Apparently Race lost any and all control that he had ever had over his actions in the presence of Spot Conlon. Good to know.

-

For quite a while after he ran into that boy on the street, Spot Conlon had been curious about the boy. His name, who he was, and what on Earth he had been doing in Brooklyn? That last question was paired in Spots head with the question of how he didn’t know that there was a newsie from Manhattan in Brooklyn. For years, Spot had made it his business to know everyone else’ business but somehow.

After multiple days of asking around, and receiving nothing but shoulder shrugs and confusion as to how he didn’t know who was spending time on, as many of Spots friends had pointed out, his turf, Spot finally discovered who the mystery manhattan boy was. Racetrack Higgins, Jack Kelly's second in command, a teen with a smoking problem, and even bigger gambling problem, and the part which most interested Spot, a boy from Manhattan who spent more than his fair share of time in Brooklyn.

Now, Spot Conlon wasn’t nosy, he let people have their space and he expected the same in return. However , every so often, when something piqued his interest, he was known to…forget about that. So maybe he learned from a few of his boys Racetracks' usual selling spot in Brooklyn. And maybe he would find himself passing by more regularly, and maybe he ended up selling papers just across the street from Racetrack a few times. But it was just because he was curious. An odd kid, who shouldn’t be there, was there and Spot was just keeping an eye out. No ulterior motives to be seen here.

-

Race spent a lot of time thinking. He didn’t have all that much else to do with himself. He thought himself to sleep at night and made up little stories in his head on slow days. He knew that he had a habit of overthinking things, but he supposed that that was the price he paid for his hyperactive mind. Recently many of those thoughts had been filled with questions about one Spot Conlon.

Did he know who Race was?

Did he hate Race?

Did he think about that one horrible interaction as much as Race did?

Was he stalking Race?

How was he so intimidating?

And why was Race thinking about him so much?

These were the things that filled Race's head all day, every day. And he had an answer to only one of them.

Spot Conlon was most certainly stalking him. Every single day, for almost a month, Spot had been there. At some point in the day, at least. Race started to notice about a week in, he had never seen him around before, and now, Spot Conlon was everywhere.

And maybe it wasn't about Race at all but that wasn’t a thought that would ever cross the boys mind, not in a million years. Because rational thoughts never came to Races mind. But rather, stupid, irrational, and to those he might share them with, utterly ridiculous and/or insane (he’d been called all of the above by those close to him). And this habit was continued on one faithful day, after about a month of being haunted by Spot Conlon.

-

Race noticed that Spot had been standing directly across the street from him. In the same place, for hours. Usually when he’d show up he would be gone again within the hour, but this time, this time he lingered. And Racetrack wanted to know why. So, he crossed the street as soon as the woman Spot had been talking to left. Maybe he nearly got hit by a car on the way over but that was not his greatest concern, Race was on a mission.

“Heya Spotty,” he said as he approached and, why the hell did he say that, why did he call Spot Conlon a nickname? They didn’t know eachother like that. They didn’t know each other at all.

And evidently Spot felt the same way, “Don’t call me that.” Nothing else. No pleasantries exchanged. Neither of the boys really knew what to say. Spot had no clue why Race was there, and, well, Race had never been very good at planning out his endeavors.

“What do you want Racetrack?” Spot finally broke the uncomfortable silence. So he did know who Race was.

“Well, the funny thing is, is that, that's actually what I was gonna ask you, Spot. I’ve never seen ya over here before and I was just wondering why I started to recently.” and at this point Race knew he was rambling and he really had no clue what to do about it. He just kept talking and was quite frankly praying that Spot would interrupt him.

And for a good while, he didn’t. Race was getting extremely embarrassed but he just. Couldn’t. Stop. Talking. Finally though Spot interrupted him. “Wait wait wait, whaddaya mean you wanted to know why I’m here?” no reply from Race, who was catching his breath from his little rant. “‘Cause, my bein’ makes perfect sense to me, me living here and all. It's you I’m a tad confused about.” Race knew that it would probably be more productive to shut up at this point, go back to his corner, hell, maybe even back home for the rest of the day. But, Race had never been particularly good at doing what he should, the “smart thing” if you will.

“Well, Spotty,” WHY OH WHY DID HE SAY THAT AGAIN , “I’ve spent plenty of time here over the years and I’d never even seen you in person til a few weeks ago. I mean, I was startin’ to think you were just, like, a myth to scare people away from here. But like I was sayin’ I spent plenty of time here and I’ve been selling over here most days outta the week for like…a year now. And you just recently started poppin’ up. Everywhere I go.” Silence and complete indifference from Spot. “Well, what I'm gettin’ at is, are you following me, Spotty? I mean why else would you be everywhere I am?” Now, Race had meant for it to be at least halfway a joke. He honestly had really just wanted to talk to the mysterious boy. But Spot did not appear to find any humor in anything that Race said. In fact, he seemed pretty irritated at him, or maybe that was just his face? Race wasn’t quite sure.

“Get outta here Racetrack,” Spot finally said as he turned to leave.

And, not wanting to anger Spot further, for once in his life, Race actually did what he was told to. He gathered up his few belongings and returned to Manhattan for the rest of that day.

With full intentions, of course, to return to Brooklyn the next day.

[casinotrio1965]

Disney Descendants : Fairy Godmother and Ally Scene From "Ally's Mad Mystery "

“Mmm hmmm,” mused Fairy Godmother, and Ally was convinced she was about to scold her. Students weren’t allowed to enter Fairy Godmother’s office when she wasn’t there. Ally had very clearly broken the rules. But she’d thought these were extenuating circumstances. She’d thought it was warranted. Plus, even though she was an Auradon kid (AK), Ally had never been a big fan of rules. Unlike her best friend, Jane, who, ever since she’d stolen Fairy Godmother’s wand and gotten in trouble, seemed to be following the rules a little too much. Ally always felt as though rules were too stringent; they usually didn’t allow for special circumstances, which Ally could almost always find.

But to Ally’s surprise, Fairy Godmother didn’t scold or reprimand her. She simply folded her hands in her lap and asked in a kind voice, “Ally, did you ever stop to think that maybe the ‘vandals,’ as you called them, were actually supposed to be here? Instead of immediately jumping to the worst-case scenario?”

“No,” Ally replied tightly. “I relied on my instincts. Just like all good detectives do. And my instincts were telling me a crime had been committed.”

Fairy Godmother offered her an unexpected smile. “It’s true, good detectives do rely on their instincts. But they also know when to slow down, read the clues, and think things through logically.”

Logically?

Ally didn’t like that word. It was a boring word for boring people. Who needed logic and reason when you had smarts and hunches like she had?

“Detectives are methodical about their investigations,” Fairy Godmother went on. “They analyze the evidence before coming to conclusions.

Ally had stopped listening. She was too busy trying to come up with an anagram for the word logically. That’s what she did when she was bored, or nervous, or scared. She took words she didn’t like and rearranged the letters to make the words more interesting.

Hmmm. Logically, Ally thought.

Gilly coal?

Lilac logy?

Cagily LOL?

“Do you agree?” Fairy Godmother was saying. “Ally?”

Ally blinked and focused back on the headmistress. “What?”

Fairy Godmother sighed. “I said, you seem to be jumping to a lot of incorrect conclusions recently. Perhaps the next time you believe a crime has been committed, you should come to me first, instead of taking matters into your own hands. How does that sound?”

Ally sighed in surrender and then nodded. “Fine.”

Fairy Godmother beamed. “Excellent. I’m glad we understand each other. So, how are the preparations going for the Spirit Weekend Reception? Do you have everything ready for the food table?”

But Ally didn’t answer. She was off in her own thoughts again, letters swimming through her mind like fish in a tank.

“Ally?” Fairy Godmother prompted. Then a second later, “Ally?”

“That’s it!” Ally jumped from her chair.

Fairy Godmother startled. “What’s it?”

“Ally logic!” she said, feeling mighty proud of herself. It was a ridiculously simple rearrangement of the letters, but it was without a doubt the best possible anagram for the word logically.

Well done, she silently commended herself.

“What is Ally logic?” Fairy Godmother asked, clearly not following.

Ally grinned. “It means logic with a twist!”

And with that, she skipped out of the headmistress’s office, leaving Fairy Godmother too bewildered to say anything else.

So maybe I jumped to a conclusion back there. It happens. Next time, I’ll wait for the mystery to come to me.

After she left Fairy Godmother’s office, Ally headed to the banquet hall to grab something quick to eat. Since she’d missed lunch, she was starving. All of Ally’s friends were already rushing off to prepare for Spirit Weekend, which officially started that afternoon at the big reception in the royal hall. Spirit Weekend was a yearly tradition at Auradon Prep, held to rally excitement for the first big tourney game of the season. This year, Auradon Prep was facing off against its biggest rival, the Never Land Crocs, and Spirit Weekend was shaping up to be a major event.

Evie, Evil Queen’s daughter, hurried past Ally, mentioning something about putting the finishing touches on a new dress as she darted out of the banquet hall. Jane and Audrey set off for the carnival grounds to get ready for the banner-painting party scheduled for later that evening, which Audrey was in charge of. And Mal disappeared to the tourney field to finish prepping for the next day’s big concert. She had a secret: as a surprise for Ben, she had gotten his favorite band, Talking Dragons, to play the concert that happened at the end of Spirit Weekend. Mal hadn’t been able to stop talking to her friends about it since she’d booked the band. “I can’t wait to see the look on his face when they take the stage,” Mal kept saying. “He’s going to totally flip out.”

Ally had work to do, too. She had volunteered to cater the reception and there was still much to do to get ready. So she gobbled down a quick sandwich and started off for the tea shop.

As she walked through Auradon Prep’s beautifully landscaped campus, Ally told herself not to be deterred by what had happened in Fairy Godmother’s office earlier. So she’d jumped to the wrong conclusion. So what? It was a small setback. A minor stumbling block. She wasn’t giving up. She would find her mystery to solve, she was sure of it.

But for some reason, she couldn’t shake what Fairy Godmother had said to her just moments before: You seem to be jumping to a lot of incorrect conclusions recently.

Ally had to admit the headmistress was just a tad right. Some of the so-called mysteries that Ally had tried to solve in the past few weeks had been a little ridiculous. Like, for example, the mystery of the broken teacup at her mother’s tea shop the previous week. Ally had suspected foul play, that someone had broken in to rob the place, but it turned out Evie had just accidentally dropped it on her last visit. She’d apologized to Ally’s mother and everything. Then there was the mystery of the kidnapped teacher. At least Ally had believed he’d been kidnapped. But Fairy Godmother had revealed a few hours later that he was simply on vacation. And then, of course, who could forget the case of the stolen jacket? She’d seen Lonnie wearing Jordan’s shimmery gold jacket and assumed Lonnie had pilfered it. It turned out, however, that Jordan had just lent the jacket to Lonnie. Which, in hindsight, did seem like the obvious explanation.

The problem was Ally saw things differently. She always had. Her mother told her it was her biggest strength; lately it just seemed to be getting her in trouble. But Ally had no choice. She had to follow her instincts—it was the only way she knew how to be.

[sleepwrites]

I would like to request headcanons with Sun wukong, MK, Mei, Red son and Macaque with a s/o (platonic) who is clever, adventurous, loves solving mysteries and down to Earth.

I hope it's not too detailed. You can omit a few details if you'd like.

Aw no worries! My first platonic request as well! Apologies for the brief response as well! Ps: all of this happens after LBD’s defeat.

Who are you? Sherlock? (Macaque, MK, Mei, SWK and Red Son with a platonic!reader who likes solving mysteries)

Macaque

You showed up at one of his shadow plays and after his show was over you asked to speak with him.

He was suspicious, of course he would be, but agreed to meet you outside anyway.

Turns out you were just a person who was investigating a missing person who was last seen at one of his shows.

He had asked if you were a detective of private investigator but you denied and said you just wanted to help out.

He was confused but intrigued. To put it simply, dude was bored and wanted to tag along with you.

Was legitimately shocked when you solved the case WAY before the police did.

He sends a shadow clone to check on you while your snooping around if he cant.

You fill him in about MK in exchange, tell him if he got involved on something he really shouldn’t have, stuff like that.

All in all your pretty fun to hang around. He likes listening to you ramble about a recent case and how you figured it out. The more complex the better.

Sometimes he would suggest a really dark motive or story for a disappearance and you would just stare at him. He wouldn’t understand whats wrong lol.

All in all, emo monkie boy is a nice to talk to while figuring out who performed a, admittedly impressive, bank heist.

MK

You showed up at the noodle shop one day, frankly you were a nice bit of interest after LBD’s defeat.

Hilariously enough, when you went to the counter to order you ended up interrogating asking him a couple of questions about a stolen artifact, the thief had last been seen eating at the noodle shop before practically disappearing.

Pigsy kicked you out (ofc course) but MK felt a bit bad and met you outside under the excuse of cleaning up the front.

He found it so cool how smart you were! You always noticed little things he couldn’t. He loves how smart you are, you two balance eachother out.

He, like macaque, will accompany you while you go to see a potential lead just incase things get ugly.

Please explain whats going on once in awhile he will get so lost sometimes.

If you get really frustrated about a mystery of your’s he’ll try and cheer you up with a bowl of noodles and some advice.

Coincidentally, his advice led you to solving that mystery, he was really proud of himself after.

Mei

She caught you snooping around her house, plain and simple. You were investigating the infamous ‘Monkie Kid’ and you figured you would start with the girl most publicly helping him.

She was surprisingly ok with it when she found you. She though it was cool and happily told you everything.

She was kinda confused when you looked a little disappointed after her info dump. You explained how you actually liked solving puzzles and mysteries.

She got real sad after that and bought you a butt ton of puzzles to apologise.

She would totally tell you riddles and stuff like that.

Also likes listening to your rants about a recent case, its like ASMR to her lol. Bestie could fall asleep to that.

She’ll drive you around the city to find things and stuff like that. She doesn’t mind too much because she likes to spend time with you.

If you need to go undercover she’ll POUNCE at the chance to play dress up with you.

Red Son

Bumped into while on a walk through the city. You ended up in some trouble and Red just happened to pass by.

He helped you out and you thanked him profusely. Red kinda just rolled his eyes and walked off.

He met you again when he saw you again at a museum (dont ask why he was there) writing something down about another stolen artefact.

You noticed him and waved. He didn’t really know what to do and awkwardly waved back.

He did end up helping with the burglary, you two were the literal dream team. Your smarts, his smarts? Un-beat-a-ble!

Would brag about how you and him could take over the world if you two wanted to. You just laugh and ask if he would supply you with infinite sudoku.

You like hanging around Red Son aswell. He provides a fresh perspective on a lot of your cases.

Over all, angry fire prince is a wonderful partner in (solving) crime.

Sun Wukong

(Sorry Swk fans I can’t think if a meet scenario)

Honestly? Thinks your a nerd at first. I mean why sit around and scrounge for clues all day when you could be out there busting up bad guys?!

After he sees you solve a puzzle in a death temple adventure in less than 5 minutes he admits he thinks your smarts are cool.

Usually watches over you while your walking around a shady part of the city looking for clues.

You taught him how to do a lot of puzzles. Rubiks cubes, sudoku, wordles etc.

No listen, you two are the TRUE dream teams, you being the brains him being the awesomely handsome brawn. His words not mine.

Just imagine for a minute, remember that death temple I referred to earlier? Yeah imagine you trying to figure out a super complex puzzle with Swk trying to stop the walls from crushing you two. PEAK bonding experience I tell you.

He respects your skills, really! But he wont say it out loud. Hes too prideful.

[cjariot]

Do you love me still?

(a/n: this is my first time writing a story. please bear with me.) recommend listening: shut up my moms calling- hotel ugly

dividers by @firefly-graphics

y/n’s pov

Lately, I've been feeling a little lonely because, well, I've been alone. sure i go out and hang with my friends but it doesn't feel the same coming home to an empty house. It's kinda draining. shuri and riri, they barely call me, or even come home for that matter, and when they do it's always late and i’m asleep. So today I'm gonna go down to the lab and confront them about it, because I'm sick and tired and I just wanna get it over with. “Griot, do not alert Shuri and Riri about my arrival, please?” i say to the a.i “Sure thing ms. l/n”

shuri’s pov

me and riri were working on an upgrade to not only my Black Panther suit and her Ironheart suit. We were helping each other with one another's suits, when I heard a loud clang which was unusual because we were the only two in there. I went to check out the sound, “Girl don’t go investigating, that’s literally how every horror movie starts!” Riri whisper-yelled “Would you be quiet? Who's there?!” “It’s me, y/n!” Once I heard the quiet voice, I sighed, “What are you doing here? And why didn’t Griot alert me?” “I told him not to. I came here because I felt a little.. neglected.. and i came here to ask you guys something.” “Well what is it?” Riri said, she and I walking back to what we were doing.

y/n’s pov

they didn’t even come to hug me or kiss me, they just went back to what they were doing, “am i annoying?” i thought to myself, “no, wait I barely see them how can i be?” all of these thoughts circle in my mind as my breath becomes shaky as I'm about to ask the question, tears welling in my eyes blurring my vision, making it hard to see. “Do.. do you guys love me still?” my tears fell and I let out a sob feeling hurt.

riri’s pov 

me and shuri both immediately stop what we’re doing and run towards her “of course we do, what makes you say that, baby?” “it’s just that, it’s that you guys have been, like not speaking to me. are you tired of me? because if so, I can leave, i promise there won’t be any hard feelings. just.. just let me know.” y/n says as a few tears fall “oh, my love don’t leave, stay, please we love you. we’d never want you to leave, we’ve been… busy with the suits upgrades and we just lost track of time. i promise we love you oh so much.” shuri replies with sincerity. “Yeah babygirl, i promise we don’t find you annoying when you come down here and make sure we’re alright and properly fed.” i say reassuring her. “please, just come home, I miss you guys. it’s so lonely with out you guys, please i really wanna be close to you both.” Shuri and I both nod and walk toward her and give her a hug and a passionate kiss. “we can go home and watch a couple of movies and eat, i’ll admit i’m kinda hungry, we can order out sweetheart.” I say, easing her mind.

at their home

omniscient pov

“hey my love, what would you like to watch?” shuri asks y/n “oh we should watch the addams family, its so good!!” y/n responds excitedly. riri returns with the takeout and places it onto the table and squeezes on the couch next to y/n and shuri and grabs the food for them eat. shuri plays the movie once they start eating, shuri begins to speak, her mouth full “why dyou like this so much? its literally about two emos having emo kids— mm, it’s so boring actually.” “mon amor, you have to stop talking with your mouth full, we can’t understand you.” y/n responds, to which shuri holds up one singular finger as a way to say ‘one moment’. She swallowed her food and she repeated what she had said previously, “i said why do you like this so much? it’s literally about two emos having emo kids, it’s pretty boring.” instead of y/n responding riri does, “it’s really not that bad actually, i like seeing two weirdos embracing their weirdness with eachother, it’s cool!” “see, riri gets it, its pretty interesting, c’mon it’ll grow on you.” y/n turns around to shuri, to see that she was already looking at her, staring intently, intrigued. “what is there something on my face?” she wiped at her face in confusion “no, my love, it’s just that i love you, both of you! i love the you guys’ faces light up when you talk about something you like, it’s adorable!” “awh, shuri, we love you too, baby.”

[mystery-moose]

WELL I WAS GONNA GO EAT BUT OKAY LETS DO THIS

Here's a snippet of "alternate meeting":

She was hurt. He could tell even before he noticed the tiny drops of blood on the hardwood. Partially because she should have caught him by now, should have rounded on him blade at the ready before smiling that smile that warmed his chest and telling him that she’d clocked him ages ago and saw right through the mask he was wearing. Instead, she was in the bathroom, washing her hands under too-hot water, breathing a little harder than she should. He made sure the first sound she noticed was his voice. “Princess.” She spun, and even injured, she was fast — her knife was pointed at him exactly where he stood in the dark bedroom, harsh white light bleeding in from the bathroom. Briefly, he saw her the way any other might: a desperate animal, claws out, backed into a corner. But she recognized his voice, and the muscles around her eyes softened. The predator, soothed, faded away.

I don't usually go in for pre-canon AUs, especially in ongoing works that aren't complete yet, because I feel like... I don't have all the toys in the toybox to play with yet? And I tend to want to stick to canon as much as I can, for whatever its worth. But I've seen a few other people tackle this idea and some of them inspired me. It's definitely a way to focus in on the relationship between these two without that pesky kid and dog getting in the way!

Beyond that, I think it's a really cool idea to bring focus to things Twilight wants outside of the domestic. In canon, it's obvious he wishes he could be Loid Forger (and to an extent Loid Forger isn't really a mask at all) but I also love the idea that he might not actually want a simple family life with a simple civilian woman, but just... someone who understands him. Understands why he does what he does, has similar thoughts or feelings or experiences or background. The thought that he might still have found that with Yor under very different circumstances tickles the irony part of my brain.

Also it let's them meet on equal footing and display competency to each other, and since that does a lot for me personally I have to imagine it works for them too.

ANYWAY now here's "indulgence"!

"Gods, this is nice," he murmured. Karlach sighed, her hands playing with his, squeezing, tracing his fingers. She felt the softness of his palms as much as the brass scales on the backs of his hands. Her tail encircled and stroked his shin, and her feet tapped against the tops of his, doing a little dance. She always had so much energy when they went to bed together, energy he usually had to thoroughly expel from her in very satisfying ways… but tonight, he could tell this was all she wanted. He was happy to give it to her. “It is, isn’t it?” she said, laughing softly and kissing his palm. “Creature comforts.” “Mmhmm.” He nuzzled the back of her neck, closing his eyes. If he closed his eyes, it felt (and smelled) a bit like embracing a campfire, though a fair bit more pleasant. “Necessities, more like.” “You really are a bit of a ponce, aren’t you,” she said with a chuckle. “I am not,” he replied, feigning offense as he tickled the bottom of her foot with his toe. He felt her jump a little and it warmed him almost as much as her engine did. “I simply prefer the indoors to the outdoors. What’s precisely wrong with that?” “Pretty boring, really.” She elbowed him gently in the stomach. “Life happens outdoors.” “And I’d rather ‘life’ didn’t protrude up into my shoulder blades when I’m trying to sleep. Or seep through my tent when it storms. Or get into my bedroll and lay eggs. Or—” “Alright, alright,” she laughed, turning her head and looking over her shoulder into his eyes. “Baby.”

...so you can tell where the title came from!

I didn't really have a direction or a structure for this when I started it (the real reason for the title) but as I got further, I started to think about a selection of bedtime moments between my Tav (Sevistur the dragonborn paladin) and Karlach. The first time they sleep next to each other, the first time they sleep with each other, the first time they share a roof, the first time they share a bath or a bed. A sort of timeline of expanding boundaries and deepening intimacy.

I think the general thrust of it would be Sev coming to grips with how much he cares for Karlach, and then how much he needs to solve Karlach's condition, with him very quietly deciding what he wants to do about it. The thing is, he knows she doesn't wanna argue about it, so it's gotta go pretty much unsaid for most of it, living mostly in his interiority up until we get to the end, which has to take place in either Avernus or the epilogue. I haven't quite gotten that far!

I definitely want to, though. Karlach is easily my favorite romanceable NPC in years, and in a game that also includes Shadowheart that is saying something. It always makes me feel a bit strange to write an OC romancing a canon character, but that's kind of the whole point of BG3, and I like them too much to let that weird hangup of mine stop me, so here we are!

[epithet-beloved]

Hello, me again!!

I was just busy doing homework when I started thinking about epithet characters (who am I kidding, I think about them all the time LMAO). And then Sheriff Gorou just popped up in my head and then WOAH BIG BRAIN MOMENT!! What if he was friends with a prisoner reader? They can eat donuts and drink pinecones together :)

Hope you all have a great day/evening!!

-Ryan

HANGING OUT

synopsis… hanging out with sheriff gorou

ft. sheriff gorou

tags… platonic, fluff, nothing much happens you just hang out

word count… 662

a/n… I LIVE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! FOR A LITTLE BIT. BEEN INCREDIBLY BUSY WITH ASSIGNMENTS BUT IPAD IS OUT OF BATTERY RIGHT NOW SO I'M WRITING THIS WHILE IT RECHARGES. ENJOY THE GOOFY ✧ 🦇

“So, how do you drink these?”

“I don’t know! But it’s the only drink we have here in Redwood Run!”

“... And the well?”

“Oh! It’s completely dry!”

Sheriff Gorou’s hearty laugh echoed in the small cabin he had made his headquarters in the city in the middle of the woods. You stood behind some not-very-sturdy metal bars with a pinecone in your hands, a straw had been jammed in the thing. Gorou had brought it for you from the tavern when you had asked him to bring you a drink to share. He had a pinecone of his own, and he was unsuccessfully trying to try from the straw stuck in it.

You watched him with an amused smile from your spot in the cabin, jumping slightly when he handed you a donut from the box that rested on his desk.

“Here!” He stated with an enthusiastic tone, “Can’t have a drink without a snack!” He smiled at you, and you couldn’t help but let out a small, amused giggle as you took the sweet treat from his hands, “Why thank you.”

Somehow, Gorou managed to have a box of fresh donuts on his desk every morning. You weren’t quite sure where they came from, as the old man from the tavern didn’t seem like someone who’d take interest in baking, and Redwood Run didn’t quite have a bakery. You wondered if he had lied to you about his epithet (that, of course, he had told you about straight away), and it was actually “Donut” instead of “Bluster”, and it let him have a fresh box of the things every morning. They were incredibly tasty and somehow still a bit warm- but this wasn’t surprising, despite being in the middle of the woods, the clearing Redwood Run found itself in was often subject to the light of the high sun, making everything in the small city and its houses warm. It was like the city was stuck at the high noon of a western movie.

And if that was the aesthetic it was going for, Sheriff Gorou stuck out like a sore thumb, with his bright ginger hair and beard, the latter adorned with all sorts of sprinkles, and his happy go lucky attitude; everyone in the city was a criminal, after all! Even you! Why do you think you were hanging out in the sheriff’s cabin, behind the bars of the only cell in the entire town? He didn’t even catch you himself- you turned yourself in! You just felt a little bad that he never seemed to be able to do his job right.

But life in that single cell ended up not being so bad.

Gorou was a nice guy to be around, and you never got bored hearing his repeated stories or watching him gift guns to whoever stepped inside the cabin, even if they did so by accident.

“That guy over there seems new,” You commented after taking a bite of your donut and gesturing to someone outside with a nod. Gorou turned in the direction you pointed to, and he noticed a Banzai Blaster that seemed to be quite lost.

“He does!” He commented,

“Do you think I should go give him a gun? As a welcome gift?”

“Nah, I wanna see how long he goes without one. Also, he didn’t come in here.”

“Hmm… You’re right!”

Gorou shrugged and smiled as he leaned back in his chair, trying to prop his feet up on the desk, but failing and almost falling backwards. You couldn’t help but snicker as he regained his balance and composure, his cheeks red from embarrassment for almost falling like that in front of you.

“Aw, come on,” You cooed with a smile “You’ll be able to do it someday. I believe in ya, sheriff.”

Gorou gained his big smile again, his round cheeks peeking from under his beard.

“Why thank ya! You’re the nicest inmate I’ve ever had! And the only one!”

[salamandergoo]

STWG Prompt: Dragonflies

It was hot in Family Video as Robin worked a boring midweek shift.  She’d come home to Hawkins for the summer, planning to catch up with friends and work for some extra money, but it was a lot of the latter and not much of the former.  She was wondering how much longer it would take before she started to literally melt behind the counter when the bell over the door dinged.  “Welcome to Family Video,” she drawled.  “Let me know if- Carol?”  She perked up at the sight of Carol Perkins.  “Hi!  I didn’t think you’d be back from Chicago yet!”

“Yeah, well.  I am.”  Carol approached the counter and leaned against it, blowing a bubble at Robin.  “I didn’t miss this town as much as I thought I did.”

“Ugh, same.”  Robin nodded.  “Boston is awesome, there are places open after 7:30 at night.”  She grinned.

“Right?  God forbid a bitch wants a snack after 8, you’re shit out of luck around here.”  Carol grinned.  “You’ve gotta visit me in Chicago, girl.  The only way I’m going to get to see Steve, anyway.”

It was weird how the mention of Steve had Robin’s face twisting for the first time since high school.  She didn’t want to talk about Steve right now, just wanted to talk to Carol.  “Where uh, where’s Tommy?”

Carol raised an eyebrow, manicured nails tapping against the counter.  “Where’s Wheeler?”

“Huh?”  Robin’s frown deepened.  “Nance is staying in Boston for the summer.  Why?”

“So you understand that not all of us are attached at the hip with our exes!  Great!”  Carol’s grin sharpened.

“Okay, okay, I won’t ask about Tommy.”  She giggled a little.

Carol sighed.  “He’s in New York.  Some summer internship.  I kept telling him fighting monsters out in the sticks would be more exciting than his finance bullshit, but demo-whatevers don’t go on resumes.  You get it.”

“Hopefully there won’t be any democreatures to fight this summer.”  Robin shrugged before noticing a flash of color on Carol’s wrist.  “Hey, what’s that?”  She reached out to cradle the other girl’s hand in both of her own, pulling her arm closer.  Inked on Carol’s wrist was a dragonfly with its wings spread, looking delicate and beautiful like stained glass.  “Wow…”

Carol flushed, though her expression got all soft, an unusual look for her.  “There’s this cute girl in my dorm building who does these really cool stick and pokes.  She’s got a ton of colors and exchanges them for stuff other than money sometimes.  I got her the answers for a few tests, she gave me this.  Dragonflies remind of summers, good summers with Stevie and Tommy.  When we were kids and would spend hours at the lake, get sunburnt and eat popsicles… when everything was good and easy, you know?”

“Yeah.  Yeah, I do.”  Robin’s eyes flicked up to Carol’s face as she stroked a thumb over the tattoo.  “…a cute girl, huh?”

“What, are you jealous?”  Carol smirked and leaned in a little closer, grabbing for Robin when she tried to pull back.  “Oh, you’re totally jealous, oh my god!”  She let out a delighted laugh.  “You know… she’s not cuter than you, Buckley.”

Robin felt her face flush, but couldn’t help her own pleased grin.  “Yeah… maybe I could… recommend a few movies.  And we could watch them together?”

“Maybe.  I think I’d like that.”  And Carol looked just as pleased.