#it's like..... if you know you know y'know

[ink-ghoul]

just out of curiosity,

Is Scar asking to continue to have short-shorts in each new skin or were you like "y'know what would be funny?"

Because i can see both happening and i love it either way

Y'all need to give more credit to him, he knows what he's doing

[urdsstiny]

I WANNA BE YOURS | hamzah

the past few days had been challenging for both Hamzah and his roommate, you. your relationship was always a bit strange; you never viewed each other as anything beyond friends, but that was a far cry from the truth.

occasionally, you’d find yourself entwined with him, breathless and sweaty, yet either of you ever discussed it or reflected on those moments. you were just roommates—nothing more.

however, when you brought a reoccurring guest home again, hamzah felt a wave of confusion wash over him. jealously was definitely a part of it. and now, she was introducing them again.

as hamzah stepped into the apartment, he took off his hat with a sigh as it hit the floor. he had been busy filming a vlog all day with martin and hadn’t even noticed that you had brought that guy over again until he emerged from your bedroom, shirtless. from the flushed look on his face, hamzah knew why he’d come over.

"hey dude." the guy greeted him as he brushed by him to the door, a cocky smile on his face. as soon as the guy entered his field of vision, he felt anger boil in his veins. the guys cocky little smirk just making him even more irritated.

"hey." hamzah replied back, forcing a small smile. he moved his gaze away from the guys semi-exposed chest to you, who was exiting your bedroom with a yawn. you didn’t noticed him at first, only finally spotting him when you entered the kitchen. “oh, hey. how was work?”

as you crossed into the kitchen, hamzah followed behind, taking a seat at the kitchen table. "it was alright." he replied, his gaze still eyeing the guy through the window, watching him walk down the sidewalk with a few of his friends.

hamzah looked away as he leaned back in the chair. "y'know, it's kind of strange that you've been bringing that guy over so often." you frowned slightly as you began to make some noodles, too late at night to justify anything more.

"how is that strange?" seeing you begin to mess with the noodles, brought hamzah’s attention away from the window and to you. though his frown stayed on his face. "because it just is. i mean who is he? and does he have to come shirtless every time you bring him over?"

"well," you smirk, "he's gonna end up naked anyways. it's called time saving." you joked as you looked back at hamzah, realising he was not finding it as amusing as you.

and just like that, the irritation was back. the mention of the guy ending up naked and you sleeping with him, just made it worse. he scoffed, bringing a hand to his forehead with a sigh, before mumbling something under his breath.

"what was that?" you asked, not realising you were poking the bear with your question. he raised his head, looking you in the eyes. “you really want to know what i said?" he asked, moving his hand to grip the edge of the table.

you nodded, words failing you as you watched his eyes darken. they looked over your body, clad in an oversized shirt and shorts that were invisible underneath the top. it made hamzah's heart pound harder against his ribcage. he stood from the seat before moving to you, stopping once he was directly in front of you. his gaze scanning over your body before meeting your eyes. "i said, that i'm sick of that guy coming around."

"why?" you lose your nerve slightly at him so close to you "it's not as if he bothers you." as soon as you replied back, the thought of that guy touching you in all of the places that make you squirm, filled his mind. hamzah took a step closer, crowding you up against the counter. "but he does bother me."

"why? did he do something?”

"yes, he did do something. he came here." hamzah replied, voice dropping to a near whisper, his gaze going down to your lips for a split second. your chuckles grew dry as you realised what he was implying. you stood silent for a moment, glancing up at him. "are you jealous, hamzah?"

hamzah's jaw tightened at the mention of jealousy, his gaze hardening. "no." he replied, the lie leaving a bad taste in his mouth. he was jealous, so jealous. he leaned down, his face mere inches away from your own. "why would i be jealous?"

"because you wish you were him.” you choked out, trying to keep the same confidence you had entered the conversation with. it was hard with him looming over you, his gaze making you tremble.

hamzah froze, feeling his heart pound even harder. you were right. he wanted to be the one. he pushed away the thought, trying to fight the growing urge to pin you against the counter. "why would i want that?" he asked, looking straight into your eyes.

you smiled, giving him a sultry look as you answered. "i'm not answering that for you, hamzah." you stated before turning, finishing your noodles. the moment you turned, showing more of your thighs as your shirt rode up, hamzah swallowed as he took in the sight.

he fought the urge to grab your waist and pull you to him, the look on your face making him want to rip away that shirt. he watched as you finished up your noodles, still fighting against the growing urge to touch you. he knew he should leave the kitchen but he couldn't bring himself to move.

you finished with making your food, standing still as you waited to see if hamzah was going to make a move. your chest pounded as you waited on something, anything, words or even just touch. you craved it.

you just standing there, waiting for his next move... it was driving him crazy. he needed to touch you, he needed to hear you say his name. hamzah's hands came to grip your hips, pulling you flush against him. your thin shirts the only thing separating the two of you.

you felt his hands come forward to grip your hips as he leaned down into your ear. he pressed up closely against your back, the feel of his hard chest against you making your skin ignite. he leaned forward, his breath fanning over your ear.

"do you have any idea of what you do to me." he questioned, his low voice sending a shiver down your spine. you giggled, and his grip tightened. "maybe."

hamzah's jaw clenched at your response, the grip on your hips tightening. "you’re brat." he whispered, before biting your earlobe. you spun around, his hands moving down slightly as you leaned forward. "what are you gonna do?"

his hands slid to your backside, gripping hard. hamzah looked into your eyes before suddenly picking you up, placing you on the counter. "i think we both know the answer to that." you smirked as you finally leaned in, pressing your lips to his while your hands gripped his shoulders.

he leaned in, meeting you halfway as he pushed his lips against yours, his hands moving up to thread through your hair. hamzah pulled away for just a moment, taking in the sight before him. "i can't stand that there's other guys out there touching you." he said, before connecting his lips to your own once more.

hamzah started pressing small kisses along your jawline, before moving down to your neck. once he reached your sweet spot, he bit down on the sensitive flesh, before sucking and marking it red. he pulled back, staring at the mark before growling and attaching himself to your neck once more.

"that's not m'fault." you murmured as you moved ur neck to give him more access. "i know it's not." he replied against your neck, he slowly moved down, leaving a large trail of marks along your neck, before he reached the hem of your shirt. pulling away for a moment, he looked into your eyes as he tugged on the material. "this really needs to come off."

"i’m not having another one nightstand with you, hamzah." you couldn't be only with him once. he was addictive. he watched as you grew vulnerable, and for a moment, he knew then that was it for him. he would never want anyone else.

he watched as you grew vulnerable, and for a moment, he knew then that was it for him. he would never want anyone else. he shook the thought away, before leaning forward, so his mouth was close to your ear. "i don't want a one nightstand either." he replied, his fingers tugging on the shirt. "i want to make you mine, and only mine."

“make me yours, hamzah.”

[cvnt4him]

I think tobios the kind of guy to really REALLY be in love with his first love. I mean this guy would be obsessed with whoever took his virginity, I solely believe that.

He literally would be so in love with you without even noticing. He would love being close to you, he'd get all smiley with you and y'know his smile isn't all that but when he's genuine with it, it's the prettiest thing to see on him.

Holding his face and peppering kisses on him in front of the team, Hinata and tsukishima teasing him for it. He groans but ultimately loves it. He loves you.

When you met his sister she was kind of scary. She had this unapproachable look about her, there was so much stress and pressure to be good and great for his family. But she was actually really sweet, really interesting and a genuinely great sister for the most part.

His grandfather was absolutely hilarious and tobio wouldn't admit it to you or anyone else, but it meant a lot to him that his grandfather actually took a liking toward you. The way you unintentionally made his grandfather crack up at your occasional mishaps on your words and the weird little sounds you made when you realized you fucked up your sentence, or when you sounded so robotic to remember the interesting things you told yourself you were interested in for the sake of his grandfather.

I like to think kageyama is REALLY emotionally constipated to the point he knows NOTHING....about love or even being interested/attracted to someone. He gains such a genuine attraction towards you, it physically hurts him. He can't help but to groan in some sort of annoyance when he sees you because he knows his body betrays him. It always makes it clear that he's happy to have you around.

Whether he becomes a flushed mess, his stupid cheeks filling with blood and getting all warm and red. His ear become impossibly warm as well, he swears he can't even hear you speaking to him. Or whether it be his eyes wandering down to your lips, his thoughts thinking about how he loves it when you kiss him. He prefers those quick kisses you give, to him those are more than enough. His eyes began to trail all over your body, his mind thinking about every part of your body they stop on

His eyes move to your hands, goodness does he love holding them. He really does. When he holds your hand I think he would often squeeze them for a little, like you could just be hiding hands and a for the most part gentle squeeze comes out of nowhere. He holds it in a tight grasp like that for a while before the tightness retreats.

It's so sweet really. You call his name and his blue eyes shoot right back up to yours, kageyama doesn't shy away from anyone but damn why did you have to look at him like that with those stupid fucking eyes of yours..

You offered him a genuine warm smile, your eyes creasing a bit as your smile met them a small chuckle leaving you as you watch him fail to keep eye contact with you. He had a silly little pout on his face as his brows furrowed and his cheeks warmed.

You sigh at your silly boy and pull him into a hug, it was mostly you hugging him. Wrapping your arms around his body as he stiffly stood in your grasp, you give him a long squeeze and groan slightly. You pull away and grab his face pulling his down, with his face in your hands he takes a moment to really feel your hands the softness of them on his cheeks and how he could smell perfume on your wrists.

You give him a couple of kisses on his face causing him to squeeze his eyes shut and groan lightly. He slowly fluttered his eyes open to leer down at you. He's so tall even when you pull him down to level with you.

“ I love you, tobio..”

You whisper to him, clearly not quiet enough because you can hear people snickering behind you. You kiss his nose one final time, you can see the way he's mentally cursing you with his mind. He hates that you had to do this in front of them. He loves you, he swears he does. He may have a funny way of showing it but he genuinely loves you.

“ ...mmn... love...you too..”

Tobio made damn sure he said it quiet enough. He refused to let them hear him say that.

Trust after being with you for a long time he gets out of that. He doesn't care who hears him say he loves you. He's so happy that he's had you for this long.

[huxhsz]

🍎 ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ikaw lang

— synopsis: caleb is back, but he's different. he looks the same, talks the same—but something about him feels just out of reach, like a melody you can’t quite remember. the boy who used to piggyback you home, who cut apples for you without complaint, who always found a way to annoy and protect you in equal measure—he's not here anymore. and yet, as you watch him silently peel an apple, his hands steady and sure, you realize something. you still want him. even if he’s changed. even if he's not the same. because no matter what, he’s never leaving you again. — note/s: first post on tumblr im a bit intimidated HAHA wrote this while listening to ikaw lang by nobita and also realized i NEED filo caleb. save me filo caleb save me I NEED TO WRITE A FILO COLLEGE/HS AU OF HIM SO BAD

cross-posted on ao3! ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و ♡

caleb has changed, you realize grimly.

he sounds the same, looks the same, talks the same—

but he's not your caleb.

he's not the same caleb who used to piggyback you home after school, he's not the same caleb who would use you as his fake girlfriend to ward off his fangirls, he's not the same caleb who would slice apples for you because you would always complain about being lazy... no.

when you look at this man's—this stranger's—face, you do not see your caleb. you see fleet colonel caleb of the farspace fleet, you see a soldier hardened by war, a man who has seen too much and lost even more.

"—pipsqueak? pipsqueakk— earth to pipsqueak? oh, there she is! hello, what has gotten you so out of it? you're staring, y'know."

caleb raises an eyebrow, leaning back against the kitchen counter like he belongs there. like this is normal. like you haven’t been standing here, silently cataloging every little thing that’s different about him.

"am i?" you blink, tilting your head, feigning ignorance. "you sure it’s not you just being self-conscious?"

"as if," he scoffs, and there—there it is. a glimpse of him, of the boy you knew, the boy who used to flick your forehead whenever you got too smug.

but then it’s gone, swallowed up by something older, something colder.

his fingers tap against the counter, a steady rhythm. you used to recognize all his nervous habits. the way he’d scratch the back of his neck when lying, the way his nose scrunched when he was about to say something stupid. this? this tapping? you don’t know this one.

"well?" he prompts. "you gonna tell me why you’re looking at me like i grew a second head?"

"you’d be lucky if that happened. then you’d have twice the brain cells," you retort automatically. safe. easy. the kind of banter you used to have.

it works. he rolls his eyes, lips twitching like he wants to smirk. "real original. you workshopping that one while zoning out?"

you shrug, moving to the fridge. "maybe."

his eyes follow you. you feel them, just like you feel the weight of his presence in this space that suddenly feels too small. he was gone for so long, and now he’s here, standing in your kitchen like nothing’s changed.

like everything hasn’t.

"you still eat those awful store-bought apple slices?" he asks, nodding toward the fridge.

"mm. got tired of cutting them myself."

he exhales sharply—something between a laugh and a sigh. "figures. lazy as ever."

you expect him to leave it at that, but then, before you can process it, he’s reaching for the fruit bowl on the counter. a knife glints in his hand, and for a second, your breath catches. not because you’re afraid—no, never of him—but because of how he holds it.

not with the careless ease of someone cutting fruit. but with the precise grip of a soldier trained to kill.

a second too late, he seems to realize it too. his fingers shift, adjusting to something more casual, more familiar.

"still want them peeled?" he asks, tone too light.

you force yourself to breathe. "obviously."

he hums. starts peeling. his movements are too smooth, too calculated, but for a moment, if you squint, you can almost pretend.

almost.

he hands you a slice without looking up. you take it.

it tastes the same.

you chew slowly, watching him, waiting for something—anything—that feels real.

his gaze flickers to yours, unreadable. then, softer, quieter—

"good?"

the apple sits heavy on your tongue.

you swallow.

"yeah."

you chew, swallow, and place the half-eaten slice on the counter. caleb watches, waiting for something—maybe for you to complain about how the pieces aren’t cut evenly like you used to. but you don’t. you just stare at him, this version of him, and you realize something.

you still want him.

not just the boy he used to be—the one who would throw you over his shoulder just to prove he could, the one who’d grumble about being your fake boyfriend but always played the part too well. no, you want this caleb, too. the one who stands before you now, heavier with the weight of things unsaid, carrying shadows you don’t recognize.

your fingers twitch, and before you can overthink it, you reach out. you expect him to flinch when you press your palm against his wrist—his grip tightens just slightly around the knife, but he doesn’t pull away.

"caleb." you say his name like an answer to a question neither of you have asked.

his jaw tightens. he sets the knife down, slow and deliberate. when he finally looks at you, his eyes are searching, guarded—but underneath it, there’s something raw. something afraid.

"i know," he says. and it’s barely a whisper, but you hear everything. the guilt, the exhaustion, the hesitation.

you exhale. "i never said anything."

"you don’t have to." his lips press into a thin line. "i can tell."

you consider denying it, telling him he’s being dramatic, but you’re tired of pretending. so instead, you squeeze his wrist, grounding him.

"it’s okay," you say quietly. "if you’re no longer the same caleb I knew."

his breath hitches. you feel it more than you hear it.

"because either way—" you tighten your grip, firm, unwavering, "you’re never leaving me again."

his body stills. like he’s waiting for the catch, for the conditions, for something that makes this feel less like a promise and more like a fleeting moment he can let slip through his fingers.

but you don’t take it back.

caleb swallows. his free hand twitches at his side, like he wants to reach for you but doesn’t know if he’s allowed to.

"say it again," he murmurs, voice barely above a breath.

you step closer. "you’re never leaving me again. i won't let you."

this time, he exhales shakily, as if he’s been holding his breath for years. and then—finally—he rests his forehead against yours.

neither of you move.

the apples sit forgotten on the counter.

(caleb drops a bag onto the counter with a dull thud.

you glance at it, then at him. “what’s this?”

“apples,” he says, already rolling up his sleeves.

you blink. “they’re not pre-cut.”

“no shit,” he snorts, pulling out a knife. "figured you were overdue for the real thing.”

you watch as he starts peeling—smooth, practiced movements, no hesitation. he still holds the knife like a soldier, but his hands are steady, deliberate. for you.

a slice appears in front of your face. you take it without a word. it tastes fresher, sweeter.

he smirks. “better than that store-bought crap?”

you chew, swallowing down something thick in your throat, replacing it with something lighter in your chest.

“…yeah.”)

[collapsedsquid]

So you can say that there's a state and it has only so much money it can tax and so any military budget increases will come out of social welfare, rearmament will cost Europe it's welfare state and/or standard of living in general.

But the thing is in the 20th century that wasn't really true. Mass-mobilization went with increases in living standards, famously brits ate better under ww2 rations then they had previously. WW2 and cold-war US went with an increase in living standards. (it's complicated though, you can tell other stories about what went on.)

And y'know if you are going to ask the people to fight and die they need to be healthy and motivated, to know that their family will be taken care of. That combined with the *gasp* keynesian effects meant that the trade-off between welfare and warfare wasn't straightforward.

Now Europe's talking about rearming and i can't help but feel this whole question lingers over the whole thing, I'm not seeing this openly discussed but it feels like the political elites are asking "We don't mind building weapons but do we really want to take care of the population? Can we really accept that?"

[pigeonstab]

I am really really tired of fanon vs canon stuff dude just mentally exhausted.

[digitalsymbiote]

What makes a Mech a Mech?

Now you might think it's the shape: Humanoid, bipedal, articulated limbs. And once upon a time that might have been the case. These days those machines are a lot more diverse though, come in all sorts of shapes and sizes; you got quadrupeds, winged mechs, hell sometimes ones that don't got any arms or legs at all.

No, what makes a Mech a Mech, is the Neural Link.

Mechs are unique in the way that their pilots get wired into them. They plug their brain into a machine and they become that machine.

Y'see that's why so many of the early models were so standardized, modeled after our own anatomy and musculature. Back when the tech was first being developed, the test pool was pretty limited. All military types, foot soldiers and the like. Those folks tend to have something of a limited imagination, creativity and individuality gets beaten out of 'em until they conform to the template of what the military wants 'em to be.

Which means they aren't all that great at imaginin' their body as anythin' other than what it is.

So all those early prototypes had to conform to that. If they wanted a pilot to have a decent enough Link Aptitude, they needed Mechs that the pilots could see themselves as. Folks were already used to havin' two arms and two legs, replacin' 'em with metal instead of flesh was a short enough leap that those folks could handle it.

But y'see then they started expandin' the applicant pool; researchers and developers moved outside the military in search of folks with higher Link Aptitude. And they found that humanity is a lot more diverse than that template the military beats into its soldiers. Turns out folks can be a lot more creative with their body map. Not everybody fits into that standardized definition of what humanity is.

They were lookin' in the completely wrong place with the military, turns out. Conformity is all well and good when you're trynna rush somethin' off the assembly line, but when you're trynna really push the limits of what's possible? Well you gotta get a bit more creative with it.

That's why you don't usually see the jugheads piloting mechs anymore. They ain't as good with all the fanciness companies are packin' into them these days. Now y'know who is good with all of that? Queer folks. Transgender folks especially. Turns out growin' up in the wrong body and learnin' to deal with that makes you real good at dissociatin' and messin' with your body map. Makes it a lot easier to trick your brain into thinkin' some weird part of this metal colossus is actually part of your body now.

Once they sorted that out, synchronicity rates skyrocketed. Led to a lot of other good things too. Y'see suddenly Queer and Trans folks were prime candidates for bein' pilots, corpos needed 'em. Which meant they had to make it safe enough for folks to be those things, or at least enough to admit it to the recruiters. Kinda funny thinkin' back, that that was what tipped the scales, but I suppose you can always trust corpos to do what corpos do.

But anyway, that's why so many Mechs are custom made to their pilots nowadays. That's why they craft the IMPs alongside the pilots through basic training. You gotta build a system that'll fit the pilot's body map, and ideally one that'll make the most of it.

If that pilot's more comfortable with a tail? Give that Mech a tail. Digitigrade legs? Quadrupedal? Fuck it, if it works for the pilot, throw that shit on there. Y'see ultimately, through the Neural Link, all you gotta be able to do is trick your brain into thinkin' that Mech is your body, and then it's off to the races.

And that moment, when your mind slips into that metal monstrosity and suddenly you feel more at home than you ever did in your own flesh and blood? That's what pilots live and die for. That's how you know the engineers did a good job.

And that's what makes a Mech a Mech.

[littelovelunette]

Hi!! I just read someone’s short little blurb and I’ve been obsessssed

can I request a best friend!sevika x reader and like everyone (including reader’s friends) thinks they’re dating because they’re soooo close to eachother

More Than Just Friends

You and your best friend Sevika were at a restaurant for your birthday. It was Sevika's treat. Of course, it was.

Your other friends were here too, it was pretty much a huge friend group.

She was that one shady senior student of the class, it was funny— nobody could really look her in the eye and say shit, but then there you and her were. Sevika was scrutinising the menu with the most judgemental face ever.

"Does she look like a college student to you?" Your friend, Priscilla, asked you.

"I'd think she were a professor if I didn't already know her since highschool." You laughed, fingers tracing the edge of the menu.

Sevika scoffed a little at that but chuckled eitherway as she looked up from the menu, "What do y'all want?"

"Steak."

"Yeah, steak sounds good."

"And to drink?"

"Whiskey!"

"Well, since it's your birthday, we should get dessert, too!" Priscilla said happily, clapping her hands together.

Instantly, a few in the group chimed in but you? You were looking for the price of steak on the menu.

Your eyes widened.

Goodness. It was expensive.

Your eyebrows furrowed as you crunched the numbers. With the steak and whiskey they were ordering...

That would be about over eight-hundred dollars. OVER eight-hundred dollars.

Not to mention, they were also discussing dessert which would be an additional charge.

"Sevika, the pri—" Sevika slapped her card down making you sigh a little. She was as reckless as ever.

"It's your birthday." Sevika said as if that was enough reason for her to pay for everyone.

The waiter came and took the finalised orders before leaving with a polite smile.

"Someone has money to burn." One of the girls spoke up with a giggle.

"She might as well be your sugar mommy now." Priscilla teased and laughed along, nudging you with her elbow.

You flushed a little, "Oh, shut it." You said and crossed your hands on your lap.

Sevika, however, didn't deny anything or react, a slow smirk spreading over her dark lips. Oh, those dark lips... Accentuated by the dimmed light of the restaurant.

It was almost a romantic setting, had there not been Priscilla and your other friends chattering loudly in the background.

You continued staring at Sevika, lost in the world of your dreams as you made out the little tooth gap she had, it was so cute. You wondered what it would be like, tracing it with your tongue, kissing those asymmetrical lips slowly in the candlelight.

Just then, Priscilla's hand on your shoulder made you break out of your trance. "You're staring." Sevika's voice rumbled, soft and deep.

"Sorry, I just zoned out." You said but Sevika saw right through you. She knew exactly what you were thinking. Because she was thinking the exact same thing.

Priscilla laughed watching the awkwardness between the both of you now, saying, "I'd think you both were dating already."

That made Sevika's ears turn slightly red but she played it cool, "Oh, yeah? Why is that?"

"Y'know, you were there for her when she had her first lesbian breakup and you know those suck ass." Priscilla said matter-of-factly, wrapping an arm around you in a friendly gesture. "And you were also there for her all throughout highschool, helped her in chemistry and you both are roomies, too!" Priscilla then looked at you. "You always carry a lighter though you don't spoke. You carry it because Sevika can't give up smoking if her life depended on it—"

Sevika snorted. "That's not true—"

"—Shut up." Priscilla continued. "And you both have ditched prom together and got the same classes even in college. Let's be real, you both would've have significant others if it weren't the fact you both like each other like that."

Another girl, Sara, also joined in the teasing and reasoning. "That's true. We all know Sevika was changing the girls she dated more than the bedsheets she slept with them on."

Sevika flushed, "Hey!—"

"Shut up." Priscilla and Sara said in unison before looking at each other and giggling.

"Okay, okay, girls, what's your point?" You asked as the food arrived. The waiter, sensing the anticipation, quickly served the table and left with a polite "Let me know if you need anything else."

"Our point is," Priscilla sighed. "Date Sevika already."

"Better yet, marry her." Sara said making the both of you (Sevika and you) sputter.

"You're dead meat." Sevika said, cheeks tinged red. You giggled a little and looked at Sevika. "Sev, maybe they do got a point."

"You think so? Or do you simply want to give your chances with me a shot?" Sevika winked making you pretend-gag.

"No, I'm serious." You said after a while of laughing. Sevika didn't say anything for a bit, taking her time to think it through before the rest of your friend group began slowly picking up their cutlery and eating.

After everyone finished eating, they slowly started getting up and saying their goodbyes until it was just you and Sevika left.

"So?" Sevika got up slowly, letting a hand out to help you up.

"So what?" You grabbed her hand and gave her a brief smile of appreciation.

"What's on your mind, pretty?" Sevika grabbed you by the waist and held you close to her own self, guiding you out of the restaurant.

"Just thinking of what Priscilla and Sara said." You said as your heels clicked through the concrete, you both walking in the breezy night.

"You seriously wanna marry me?" Sevika joked making you roll your eyes.

"Look at the bigger picture, Sev!" You squeezed her hand a little. "We would be great together. We've known each other for so long and should've given a shot at 'us' sooner!"

Sevika ruffled your hair, "Just say it, you want me to kiss you."

"This is the point when I deny everything I just said and stutter." You stopped walking as did Sevika.

The next actions didn't even feel voluntary as Sevika's hand slowly traced into your hair, lips inches apart until they weren't.

Her lips on yours felt like heaven. Your lips cold against her warm breath. As you kissed her, Sevika's tongue swiped against your bottom lip lovingly.

Your eyes slowly closed as Sevika's lips roamed over yours. As the two of you parted slowly, you could see the love in her eyes.

And you knew, this was the correct path.

[sibsteria]

hi! just saw your 2025 rec list and that you write for spencer! i beg for a spence best friends/coworkers to lovers short lil sm sm (oneshot) if you're okay w that! also idk if you have a smosh/spencer series in the works but if you ever write one i can confirm I'll be your biggest fan love your fics can't wait to read more :)

@people-arelovers

Must be love on the brain...

Spencer Agnew x fem!Reader

Masterlist

a/n yes! absolutely, hello, hi, here I am- writing most of this in line for Pitbull tickets, dale (also combining two requests here, and I will absolutely be doing a series at some point fyi!)

Warnings/Content: alcohol, light angst, embarrassment, hinted pining, kissing, not proofread

Summary: A work's night out leads to drunken confessions...

''You don't have to drink to have a good time, y'know?'' Shayne shrugs at Spencer, his decision wary on joining the small group as he wasn't quite feeling up to a rager.

''There's not really a point in going to a bar if I don't drink, I'll just be surrounded by drunk people and feeling left out.'' He chuckles, he probably won't come anyway, his gaming chair is calling his name pretty loudly.

''Y/n is coming.'' Shayne throws it out there, he knew of Spencer's pining feelings towards the girl, a last ditch effort to get him to think about coming.

''Yeah, and I'll be boring and not drinking and- it's stupid.'' He runs a hand through his hair, thinking about you, how much he does in fact, love being around you.

''You know she doesn't care about that stuff?'' Shayne could almost feel himself rolling his eyes at his friend, how stubborn.

''Yeah...'' That's just one reason why he liked you so much, why you were his best friend.

Meanwhile, you were sat at your desk, having a similar conversation.

''I honestly don't think he's going to come.'' You smile, popping a piece of homemade hard candy Garrett had made.

''He might?'' Tommy smirks at you, he knew how you felt about the curly haired man.

''When has he ever, ever, come to a bar with us?'' You giggle at Tommy, shaking your head.

''There's a first time for everything.'' He brings up his hands, one forming an '0' and the other forming an 'I' before he puts them tog-

''Tommy! No!'' You whisper yell, you never know who could be around.

''Oh, come on, you want it. Live a little, Y/n, sweep that little nerd off his feet.'' He raises his eyebrows as if to say 'think about it'.

''Someone as funny and pretty and as cool as him wouldn't even think twice about me, we are just friends.'' You sigh at your own reality, how you wish it wasn't true, but beggars can't be choosers and at least you get to see his face nearly every day.

''You are so stupid.'' He saw the way he looked at you, as if you had hung the stars just for him, why are you always so stubborn? At least you and Spencer have that in common.

''Shut up!'' You squint at him, grumbling before you turn to your computer, time to get some work done before you can go home and shower.

You were sat at your vanity mirror, painstakingly applying some makeup so you look some variation of decent- the bags under your eyes telling a story of fatigue.

Your phone beeps out a message.

Message from: Spimgler

< Hey, sitting this one out, have a great time- miss you! >

Of course, but you couldn't blame him, a night in bed sounds a lot better than unwanted mingling with strangers right now but Tommy would have your head if you didn't come.

You down a glass of wine for your nerves whilst getting ready, you hate getting hit on and it’s not uncommon.

“Told you he wouldn’t come.” You grin at Tommy, you being right once again, although you wish you weren’t- maybe if he was here you wouldn’t feel so out of your depth.

“Yeah, whatever.” Tommy hands you a drink, he had been there a little while before you arrived.

The drunker you let yourself get, the more your mind wouldn’t let up on thoughts of Spencer. The smell of his shampoo as he leans into on one of the couches, the softness of his touch as hugs you when it all gets a bit too much to handle, the teasing smiles he shot at you like bullets when he tries to make you laugh. You get more and more sour as the night progresses, shooting down each potent bomb of liquor and strongly poured drinks.

As expected, just as you had unfortunately lost your group, you were approached by a man. But long gone was the slightly sober discomfort and combative attitude you would have once wore, a drunken mess of social embarrassment lies in its place.

“You know, my friend Spencer is so pretty-“ You hiccup, leaning with your elbow on the bar and cheek in your hand.

“Um, I asked if you wanted to dance with me?” The guy raises an eyebrow at you.

“I want to dance with Spencer! God, I miss him so damn much, I love him…I’m- I love him a lot-“ You frown, sniffling a little, why wasn’t he here right now.

“Okay…” He looks around the room, wondering if you were here all alone.

“Need to see him so bad, can you call Spencer?” You yawn, giggling as you imagine his adorable little voice.

“Not-not really, I don’t know this dude-“ He’s urgently scanning around now, he swore he had seen you with some people- a lanky brunette, a shorter blonde guy, a blonder girl, two dark haired ladies who were screaming at the table together where he first saw you-

“He’s so smart, y’know? So pretty and God, I wish he knew it. He’s funny…too funny for me- I love Spence-“ The man you were currently borderline harassing came into quick thanks as the lanky brunette neared you, clearly recognising you and starts to laugh at your words.

“Okay, okay. C’mon Y/n, stop professing your love for Spencer to strangers.” Tommy mouths a ‘sorry’ at the guy and he just half smiles, awkwardly- it was his choice to approach the plastered girl at the bar, anyways.

“Spencer…” You whine, dragged away by Tommy, your cheeks are flushed and you can’t even walk straight.

“Want me to call him, to come get you?” Although you harboured strong, strong feelings for the man- he knew he was also your best friend and could handle you in this state, and would also drop anything to help you. And maybe, just maybe, he wanted to meddle and progress things along- a hope you would possibly spill your guts to him. It was no secret that Spencer returned your feelings, except to you.

“Yes!” You scream in excitement, he walks you outside for some fresh air, you slump down on the pavement. Tommy calls Spencer from your phone, he’s more likely to pause whatever game he is playing to answer your call.

“Y/n, hey, you oka-“ His voice holds a happy tone as he answered.

“It’s Tommy, hey look, could you- stop lying down on the dirty street!” He yelps at you as you don’t feel like sitting upright anymore, “-could you come and pick her up? She’s a bit of a mess and honestly past the point of enjoying herself, just want her home safe.

“Be there in ten.” Is all he says before buttoning the phone down, Tommy sighing in relief- he just didn’t want you to end your hurt- you were actually pretty funny right now all things considered.

“Y/n, honey, he’s on his way.” He sits next to you, placing an arm around your shoulder, comforting you.

“Who?” You look at his completely quizzical.

“Spencer-“

“Spencer’s coming?!” You smile, dreamily, squealing a little, oh yeah, this was going to be a perfect disaster.

It had been just under ten minutes as he pulls up a metre or so away from the two of them, getting out of his car and heading straight for his best friend.

“Thank you, thank you! She needs a whole lotta’ rest.” Tommy stands up and tried to bring you up with him but you whine out, not wanting to move just yet. “I am so sorry for what you may be about to go through.” Although he’s smiling, indicating he is not sorry at all.

“Have a good night.” Spencer nods curtly, locking his car just in case before sitting next to you.

“When is Spencer getting here?” You mumble into your arms, head in your knees.

“Peekaboo.” An airy tone to his voice as your head shoots up.

“Oh- Spence!” You shriek, wrapping your arms around him tightly, though you had done it many times before- he still couldn’t help his heart as it beat a little faster.

“H-hey, beautiful, you doing okay?” You giggle as he talks to you, beautiful, he says.

“You’re the beautiful one, stupid.” You lay your head on his shoulder

“Oh, yeah?” He’s caught a little off guard.

“Mhm, pretty, pretty…” You sigh as you nuzzle into him, jesus, how much did you drink.

“I’m pretty to you?” He automatically goes for the teasing avenue, combatting how he feels with a joke.

“Obviously, I wouldn’t be in love with you if you weren’t.” You scoff as if it’s common knowledge, his mouth gapes open, he’s…what?

“What?” He repeats his thoughts.

“What?” You yawn, still happy as a baby on his shoulder.

“You just said- you’re in love with me?” He asks it as a question, you probably just mean a friendly ‘I love you’.

“Yeah…but you don’t like me back though, so it’s silly of me. You’re just so pretty and amazing and- I’ve loved you since I first met you…” You look as if you’re falling asleep, Spencer’s head is a flurry full of confusion- he feels like he should be hyperventilating right now.

“I…” This was definitely a talk for sober Y/n, no matter how much he wanted to tell her he loved her right now.

“It’s okay…I’m used to it.” It’s like you can’t quite recognise this is reality and not a nightly dream of yours.

“I’ll drive you home? Or-“

“Can we have a sleep over?” You blink up at him, wondering why you are seeing three Spencers.

“Sure…” He bites his lip, you were extremely cute like this, usually you would be so stubborn and nonchalant and cool.

The drive back is surprisingly uneventful, you practically passed out in the passenger seat, head against the window after he had told you you cant hug him whilst he drives.

“Your car smells good…smells like you.” You smiled at nothing, a patter of rain beginning to hits the windows, lulling you into serenity. Jesus, you can’t keep saying that shit whilst he’s driving, now all he wants to do is look at you and listen to the adoring words. Was how he smelled comforting to you?

He had managed to get you through his front door easier than expected, you were willing to follow his every word.

He gave you some privacy as you haphazardly dressed yourself up in a backup pair of pyjamas you had left at his house, he hears a few bangs and nearly opens the door to check on you but ultimately decides maybe that’s not the best idea- he wants to respect your privacy as always.

“Spence!” You shout, laying on his bed already, you were so ready to sleep.

“You ready to go to sleep? You got a brutal hangover waiting for you tomorrow.” He grins at you as your pout into the air.

“Ugh.”

“I’ll let you settle down.” He whispers, attempting to walk away. You slept in the same bed more than once before, whenever you had slept over but…he just knew he wouldn’t be able to fall asleep next to you tonight- repeating what you had said to him over and over again, overthinking and-

“Can you stay a little? ‘Till I fall asleep?” How can he say no as your sweet, tired voice tweets up at him.

“Till you fall asleep.” He confirms, his heard stammering as he moves to sit next to you, back against the headboard as you lay, you inch towards him touching his arm with you nose and he wants to explode. He can feel the air you breathe through your nose, hitting his arm as you slowly fell into slumber, a subtle smile on your face.

What was going to happen tomorrow?

Your head throbs as you stir, already feeling the nausea set in, your tongue sticking to your mouth due to how dehydrated you were. You smell something that you recognise, something that’s not your house…oh, fuck.

Memories from last night violently hammer at your head, or was that just the hangover? You fucked up so hard, you told him you love him? What were you thinking, clearly you weren’t at all.

Your eyes blink open, his bedside table catching your attention. There stood a big glass of water, some painkillers and…a note?

Good morning,

If you are reading this, take these pills before you leave the room, I can hear your headache from here.

-S

Was he going to be angry? Upset? Uncomfortable? Oh, god, you have ruined your whole relationship with him.

You do as he had said, slamming the pain relief in your mouth before washing the pills down with two thirds of the glass.

Maybe you could sneak out, facing your bad, bad drunk decisions seemed like a nightmare.

You creep to the pile of your stuff in the corner of the room, slowly changing into your clothes, not putting your shoes on yet just in case.

You pry open the door, peeking at the space outside, no sign of Spencer.

You quietly move towards the front door, you had gotten away with it- a loud creak sounds from a floorboard beneath you- nearly, you had nearly gotten away with it?

“Y/n?” He follows the sound to its source. “Are you…leaving?” He can’t blame you for wanting to.

“Um, sorry. It’s just-“

“Yeah, I know, you didn’t mean it- it’s okay.” Forever the respectful man he was, he never lashes out, never got angry- he just…pretended he was okay.

“Mean what?” You want to know what he thought, if you had embarrassed yourself as much as you thought.

“Look, last night, you were drunk and it’s fine- you were just being the best friend you are- you don’t need to feel sorry about it.”

“Spence….” You put down your shoes and your bag.

“You said you were in love with me, but you didn’t mean it like that, it’s okay.” The look in his eyes told you he was not okay, was he…upset?

“I-“

“Just- I’ll drive you home, okay?” He half smiles, trying to look normal, the room goes silent as you decide it’s all or nothing.

“I meant it…by the way.” You hold your breath, if you had read the situation wrong you basically just doubled down on the burning crash that was your friendship.

“You- what?” He stops putting his shoes on, looking up at you.

“I…I am, in love with you…” Your chest heaves a little faster as the tension in the room was becoming too much.

“You…are?” Shit, you had misread it.

“Okay, no, it’s fine- just drive me home, forget what I said-“

“I love you. Too, I love you too.” He can’t meet your eyes yet, everything was up in the air, a pressure on your chest.

“No, I- I love you. Like, I want to be the person you see every morning, the person you wake up to. I am so in love with you it hurts, you are gorgeous and smart and funny and-“

“Stop.” Your breath hitches, was this it now?

“Y/n…I think you are the most beautiful person I have ever had the chance to know, to be best friends with and to…fall in love with. You are the first thought I have in the morning and the last one I have before I fall asleep. All I do is think of you, what is she doing? Is she happy? I bet she looks pretty right now, like all the time. Since you spilled coffee all over Damien on your first day- both of your awkward apologies and the both of you being too kind to be angry at the situation. You…I need you.” He’s standing in front of you now, looking down at you with those deep-set eyes, it was also a perk you him that you were shorter than him- a rarity. You can’t speak as you relay everything he said, all you want to do is kiss him, and he is thinking the same.

You tentatively step closer, his head leans down, aching slow and unsure, your hands come up to cup his cheek and steady yourself on his shoulder as you lean up. Your lips meet and it’s one of the sweetest things you’ve tasted, that could just be the Kickstart, but he kisses you with such care and emotion- you have never been kissed like this. Or maybe you have but it’s never felt like this- like it was meant to happen, like you were made for him. His hands delicately find their home resting on your hips, your mouths moving together- kissing him deeper.

Neither of you seem to want to stop but eventually it gets difficult to breath through just your noses.

“So…”

He smiles at you, he had a feeling his life was just about to become beautiful.

a/n update! guess who won the ticketmaster war is seeing pitbull ft shaggy in concert? me, dale xo

[theyluvivi]

OVER THAT, OR TRYING TO BE. client!chris.

warnings.ᐟ.ᐟ: angst. a shit ton.

You're smart.

You have the brain and the grades to prove it... just whatever has been in the air these past two weeks is making you feel like you're the stupidest person on earth. You don't do guys, hookups, or relationships, period for that matter. Yet here you are, sobbing hysterically into your pillow over a guy you barely know.

That's the most embarrassing part about this whole thing. You've talked at most five times, and now tears are pouring down your cheeks, and you can barely breathe.

You've tried to act like you don't care, tried open your laptop and the many assignments that are that stacking up but you can't—Every moment you don't spend thinking about him just brings you back to him. The way he looked at you, his hands on you, the way he talked to you. Nothing works or helps.

Happy music doesn't help. Weed is a temporary fix. Eating takes too much energy—And god forbid you talk to your friends about this. They warned you about him, how he makes girls fall for him and leaves them like they're nothing, but you still kissed him like it was your honeymoon.

Chris didn't leave you like you were nothing. He was nice about it, which is what makes it hurt more. You clutch at your chest, god it feels like you're fucking dying.

The only person you've told is Matt, because you physically can't tell anyone else. And for someone who plays with people's feelings, he accepted yours with open arms.

"....s' not your fault, y'know? The heart wants what it wants....and all that stuff." You let out a sad giggle. "Yeah, but it's definitely not happening, and I've heard how he is to girls, so I shouldn't even try to make it happen." You sniffle and rub at your eyes. "Kid..." He searches for anything in his thoughts to make you feel better but can't find anything. He knows how Chris is.

"Cmere." He opens his arms, far and wide for you. You don't get Matt hugs often, so immediately run into his arms. "You'll get through this... you're strong." You can tell he doesn't what he's saying, but you appreciate the effort. You nuzzle into his chest. "Thank you, Matt."

You haven't taken your shirt off since then, hoping the reminder of Matt's hug will help you calm down. It hasn't, but you can still hope.

Even over your loud cries, you can hear someone knocking at the door. You're not selling... unless it's to friends. You sit up slowly, trying to avoid upsetting the pounding headache you have already from crying even more. You run your hands through your hair. If it's a friend, they would've at least texted you so then....

Fuck. Fuckfuckfuck.

Matt knows you're not anyway near in a suitable condition to see Chris, and he still sent him over. You bury your face in your hands as the knocking persists. You haven't looked in the mirror in days, and your eyes are probably all red and puffy... why couldn't he have come earlier when you were acting like you didn't care?

You let a soft breath, trying to breathe normally after all the hyperventilating you've been doing. You finally get up from your bed and head to the door. Pretend you don't care, pretend you don't care, pretend you don't care—Is what you repeat to yourself as you twist the knob.

You crack the door open. "M' not selling." Chris tilts his head. "Thought we got over this whole you hating me thing?" He smirks, "I also just saw Quen walking out of here."

You huff, opening the door. "Come in." You're doing better than you thought. You thought you'd see him and immediately crumble to the floor. Chris takes in your colorful apartment as you close the door behind him. "What?"

"Looks like a unicorn threw up in here." You narrow your eyes at him. " 'S a compliment...it's so... you." Your heart jumps. "I live here." You sigh, rolling your eyes. "What do you need?"

"What I always need." You don't miss the way he steps closer to you. You feel bile rising in your throat. "Can't sleep again. I need one of your fairy joints to help me." You groan. He knows it pisses you off when you he calls them that. "Quen bought the last one, sit." You gesture to the couch, "No tour?"

You scoff. "You're lucky I even let you in."

Chris is like a toddler. He refused to leave you alone, in the comfort of your own room for five minutes, so you're sitting across from him on the couch as you roll him what he apparently came for.

You're finding it harder and harder to believe that he's staring you down like you're a piece of steak, and he's starving. His hand creeps up your thigh. You want to let him get away with it, "Chris?"

"Yeah?" You finally finish rolling, your acrylics giving you a break. "You didn't just come here for this, did you?" You wave the joint in his face, a smile finding its way onto your face for the first time in days. It's a sad one.

"You sayin' something?" He smirks, you begin to crawl towards him after the placing the joint behind your ear. "And if I am?" He pulls you into his lap, and you missed that, dearly. The feeling of his hands roaming over your body. You can feel tears beginning to weal up in your eyes. This is the most pathetic you've ever felt.

It's terrible. He's terrible.. But you want it, so bad. "Mhn...then you're right." And his lips are on yours, and you expect to be rough—you want it to be rough, but it's slow and sensual just the way you need. Tears trickle down your cheeks. You quickly wipe them away before Chris opens his eyes.

His hands find their way under your shirt, slipping up to the clip of your bra. "You want this?" He asks, and you nod immediately.

It's okay if he sees you as nothing more than a quick fuck, if he doesn't care about you and only wants you for weed, if he doesn't want a relationship and just needs another girl to run to. You need this.

tags 𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚: @inspiredangel @whore4mattsturniolo @domizmez @sosasturns @drewswife @strnilolover @cvnts4demi

a/n: .... :(

[mykuup]

DIE PRΛNDIVM (𝙂𝙤𝙙'𝙨 𝙢𝙚𝙖𝙡) part 2

Part 1

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My Masterlist

Summary : After tasting you in the dining room, Geta is even more starved and nothing can stop a hungry emperor.

wc : 2.9k

Warnings : SMUT // DARK (read at your own risk) // oral (f receiving) // power play // dub con non con // blood // fingering (f receiving) // pain sex // anal play (f receiving) // virgin reader // BDSM // servant reader // afab reader (but no description) // porn without plot

A/n : I AM BACK (kind of 😅)!!! I am so sorry for the hiatus but my life went crazy and I had to deal with tons of stuff 💀 I tried my best to keep writing but I lost the mojo and now I think that every word I write is shit but y'know... I'm trying my best here 🤷‍♀️

I hope that this second part will please you. Idk if I'm OOC but I wanted to try something darker with our crazy ginger emperor!

No proofread we die like the emperor's sanity 🤪😂

Also, I'm working on a long fic but I need time to go back to my normal writing pace again.

ilysm, thank you for everything 💜💜💜

Taglist : @byronking @stardancerluv @preparedfruit @userchai @helsa3942 @analves @justnobodynothingmore @silentwhisper666 @deliciousfestsalad @25bohemianmoons @saphirmoraitie @claudialioncourtdulac @phobobobophobia @koshkahhh @noblenighttime @moon-390

You put back your tunic in haste, fruit juices sticking on your skin and your own release still dripping from between your legs. Without a glance at the young emperor, you took the heavy platter with you and exited the dining room. Your cheeks were bright red and you were still dizzy from your high. What just happened? You couldn’t believe you came under the expert touch of Geta himself. You weren’t a concubine nor his wife, you were just a humble servant, you couldn’t let that happen again. So on your way to Geta’s room, you went to one of his favorite concubine’s bedrooms to ask for help. She would bring the platter to Geta and he will fuck her. That was your plan. But you got caught before you could even knock on her door.

‘What are you doing here?’ you heard Geta’s voice resonating in the marble corridor. He sounded angry. ‘Don’t you even dare to touch that door,’ he warned you, his death stare looking at you. You froze, unsure why he was so upset, the souvenir of his soft touch still fresh in your mind. You stumble upon your words, trying to explain what was your plan.

‘But, Your Highness, I’m doing this for you. I-she can…’

‘Run,’ he simply said. You look at him, baffled, like a deer in front of its hunter. His smirk widens seeing the fear in your eyes. He loved the way you were scared of him, of his power and he was ready to play tonight. He looked at you from head to toe and licked his lips, remnants of your juices mixed with the fruits still on his lips. Your taste was divine and he planned to feast on you over and over again. ‘I will not repeat myself once more.’

The heavy platter still in your hands, you started running the best you could, avoiding a few servants and some statues through the corridors. Your tunic was long and you almost tripped on it twice. Geta’s calm footsteps echoed on the marble floor, but you didn’t stop running. You were too afraid of what the emperor could possibly do to you. Finally, you reached his quarters and, without thinking, pushed the large wooden door and entered his chamber. You quickly look around you, realizing you were in his bedroom. You put the platter of fruit on the table near the balcony and took a few seconds to finally take a breath. When you heard his footsteps getting closer, you decided to hide behind the heavy curtains. You tried your best to ease your breath and be silent, but your heart was pounding in your chest and you didn’t really know if it was because of your little run or because of the whole situation. 

‘Oh, are you trying to hide from me?’ Geta’s voice was playful as he looked around. You heard the door closing and the shuffle of his toga grew closer. He chuckled as he spotted a soft movement in the curtain. ‘I know you’re here,’ he added before pulling out the curtain. You were startled as he caged you between him and the wall, his body flushed against yours. He grabbed a fist of your hair and pulled it to get better access to your throat. He licked a fat strip, your skin still tasting like the pear he displayed there earlier.

‘I told you,’ he hummed at your taste. ‘I’m not done eating.’ He licked your neck again and got down to bite at your collarbone. You cry out from the sudden pain, your skin red with his heavy teeth marks. He smiled at you, his devilish grin sending chills down your spine. ‘Oh, I’m gonna have so much fun with you…’ 

As you wanted to beg, he threw your body on his shoulder, surprising you with an unknown strength. You tried your best to fight back, to make him let you go but his grip on you was like a vine. You kept moving but suddenly your back hit his bed, and before you could escape, Geta climbed on top of you, caging you again. 

‘Your Highness please’, you begged, but he shook his head no. You started to cry when he pinned your wrists above your head, trapping you.

‘Where is the bold woman I saw earlier? Where’s the selfish one calling me hers?’ He cocked a brow, a wicked look on his face.

‘Pl-Please… I’m begging you, I-’ you sighed as you felt his lips kissing your temple. It was so strange how he could be so harsh and violent but so soft and gentle with you. His free hand traveled south, caressing your entire body until he reached your core again. His fingers dived between your folds, and he hummed in appreciation when he found out you were still wet and warm from earlier. 

‘Hmmm, I knew you would enjoy this as much as I do.’ He slowly circled your clit, making you squirm under his touch. ‘I’m gonna eat you up all night long.’

His kiss was feral as he crashed his mouth on yours. You could feel how eager he was for you, his tongue pushing in between your soft lips. You sighed as his fingers were still caressing your bundle of nerves, pleasuring you like no one has ever done. Your thighs opened up more and more and Geta took this as a cue to plunge two fingers into your pussy. The metal of his rings was a huge contrast with the heat of your core. You cried out as he stretched you, now pulling his fingers in and out of you at a rough pace. His grip tightened around your wrists and he stopped kissing you to bite your neck and shoulder, marking you. Tears fell on your burning cheeks, a mix between pleasure and pain. 

Suddenly Geta stopped and looked at you.

‘You’re so pretty when you cry, show me all those tears beautiful. And then, maybe I’ll please you,’ his grin wide and sick as he noticed you were crying. He pulled out his fingers from you and his smile grew even wider when he looked at them, your blood all over his skin. He sucked one of his fingers clean, enjoying your taste mixed with the iron taste of your blood, and then approached his other finger to your lips.

‘Taste yourself,’ he ordered. But when you shook your head no, his other hand let go of your wrists to land on your throat, his fingers squeezing tightly. You struggled to get some air, your face getting red as you couldn’t breathe anymore. His face got closer to you, his voice a harsh threat between gritted teeth. ‘Clean that mess you made on your emperor’s hand or else I’ll make you pay for drenching my robes with your cum earlier, you slut!’

His grip tightened around your throat, blocking your air flow and you had no choice but to open your mouth. Geta didn’t waste any second and shoved his blood-coated finger down your throat. The iron taste invaded your tastebuds and you almost gag. But you had to do whatever Geta wanted so he could let you go faster. So you wrapped your tongue around his finger and ring and lick them clean, swallowing your pussy juice mixed with the remnants of fruits and blood. 

You watched the man above you, his eyes only dark pupils now as he bit his lower lip. He loved to see you follow all his commands and desires. After you finished your ministrations, he let go of your throat and you took a deep breath, coughing loudly.

Geta took the opportunity to tear off your dress and you jumped at the sudden feeling of the fresh air on your heated skin. Your nipples got hard instantly, the hair on your body straightening and goosebumps rising. But the eager emperor didn’t waste any second, his mouth took one of your nipple, his hot tongue swirling around, his lips sucking it hard. You tried to fight back but a wave of pleasure flooded your entire being and you let out a moan.

At the sound of your voice, Geta nipped at your flesh, making you cry out. He keeps on biting your skin here and there, marking you as his every time you whimper. You try to push him away, to escape from his invasion, but Geta was stronger than you. And as you were fighting back, he suddenly got up at the end of the bed and grabbed your ankles. You didn't even get the chance to look at him as he flipped your body, making you lie on your stomach. Before you could say anything, you felt the silk of his toga against your skin, and the heat radiating from his body. Geta grabbed a fistful of your hair, making your neck arch back and whispered to your ear.

‘The more you fight back, the more I’m enjoying the show.’ You whimpered when you felt his knees parting your legs away. As he was biting your neck again, he pushed three of his fingers in your pussy, stretching you out even more. Your desperate sounds morphed into moans as the pain gives way to pleasure. Without thinking, your body reacted to his and your arched your back to get more friction, your ass now pushing against his body. Geta noticed and hummed in satisfaction.

‘See? I knew you were a good girl.’ You could hear the grin he was wearing, satisfied with himself as he was pumping in and out of you. ‘Let’s find out if you’re eager to please your emperor.’

He released your hair, and his hand landed on your butt cheek, slapping it. You scream, feeling a hot, white burning sensation of pain. He slapped you again, his other hand still thrusting into you. Your breath was erratic and your mind foggy. At first you were trying to escape but now you weren’t sure anymore. The sensation of Geta biting you again took you out of your mind at the emperor let his teeth marks on your buttcheek right before his mouth landed between them. You gasped as you felt his hot mouth and wet tongue circling your hole as he was still fingering you. The burst of sensation was new to you and you moaned loudly when he dived deeper with his thumb. 

‘Gods be dammed, you taste so good’, he muffles against your hole. Both of his hands now was parting your cheeks, the emptiness of your pussy making you clench around nothing. His tongue lapped a fat strip from your clit to your ass, and Geta moaned in pleasure, your taste flooding his tastebuds. You were a rare mix of fruits, blood and arousal and Geta couldn’t help himself but to grind his cock against the end of his bed to get some friction. He was hard as a rock under his toga, his body burning with desire and hunger. The growl he let go after his tongue dived deeper into your hole resonated through your entire body, making you squirm and shiver. 

‘Don’t move,’ he commanded, mouth full of you. You started to feel a delicious feeling building inside your belly, but you needed more to reach your release.

‘Geta… Please.’ You didn't even mind calling him by his title, too lost in the moment. The emperor hums, still feasting on your core. But when he felt your fingers circling your clit, he loosen his grip and pushed you away.

You whine at the sudden loss of his mouth on you and when you turn around to see him, his eyes were full black, his pupils blown at their maximum. Anger was written all over his face, and his chest was slowly rising because of his heavy breath. Suddenly you were afraid of him again. Thinking it was because you called him by his name, you tried to soothe him.

‘Your Highness—’

‘ENOUGH!’ He looked like a feral lion, his skin flush with anger and lust. ‘Your behavior is not acceptable. I have to punish you now.’

His tone was now calm but you could hear how serious he was. Without taking his eyes off of you, Geta unlaced the golden belt keeping his toga closed and reached for the side of the bed. As he walked closer to you, you got a glimpse of his body; his skin was sprinkled with freckles and moles, his muscles flexing with each movement. You gasp when he pinned your wrists above your head again with a forceful strength, to tie them up to the head of his bed. You tried to free yourself but he tightened the knot, burning your soft skin.

With a single swift movement, he took off his toga, letting it pool at his feet and climbed on his bed again, crawling over you. His hands forced you to spread your thighs apart so he could slide his body in between. And for the first time, you saw him, in his full glory. With horror in your eyes, you looked at his strawberry blonde happy trail under his navel, leading you to his manhood. He was thick, veins adorning his underside and his tip was angry red, precum already leaking off the slit. Dread invaded your entire being. You never slept with a man before, and that’s why you bleed in the first place. You tried to plead, to beg for mercy, but it was too late.

‘I will show you what happens when you’re not doing as you’re told.’

As your mouth opened to speak, Geta pushed into you. You scream as he forced himself, his cock way to big for your tight pussy. He grunted at the feeling of your velvet walls around him but he needed more. Hands splaying under your thighs, his rings were as cold as ice over your heated skin and it startled you when he moved your legs, folding you under his body. Your knees now just above your head, you could feel Geta diving deeper inside of you.

‘You’re so tight it hurts,’ he growled. ‘The pain… Do you feel the pain?’

He asked even if he knew. Geta understood you were a virgin the moment he saw how shy you were in the dining room. But that’s what aroused him the most about you. Sure you were pretty but he had knowned more beautiful whores than you. But what enthrilled him about you was that you were innocent, a perfect prey for his twisted mind.

You were still crying and whimpering as Geta was pounding into you. The pain was still here but your blood mixed with your slickness helped him to thrust in and out easier. Soon your whines morphed into moans and that’s when Geta decided to bite at your nipple again.

‘Gods, you like that don’t you?’ he hummed against your skin, now gently licking where his teeth marks were. You moaned again, pleasure flooding over you. It was a new sensation, a feeling indescribable. Your wrists still tightly bound, all you could do was feel.

Feel the burning of the silk around your wrists. Feel the remnant tingling of Geta’s bites and spanking. Feel the head of his cock hitting that sweet spot deep inside of you. It was overwhelming, and between the fear and pleasure, your mind stopped working. You were numb under his touch and suddenly, when you stopped fighting, the sweet sensation inside your belly increased. Your cunt tightened aroud him, gripping him like a vice, sending shiver down his spine.

‘Oh fuck you’re about to cum don’t you?’

‘Pl-please…’ you whined, not knowing what to do.

‘Who are you begging for?!’ Geta asked, his tone harsh as his hips hit yours harder.

‘You… Your High—’

‘NO!’ he shouted, one of his hands grabbing your throat, squeezing to force you to look at him. ‘Who are you begging for little thing?’ he smirked, his devilish smile showing how satisfied he was seeing the fear in your eyes. But even if you were fucked dumb, you knew what to say to him so he would let you go.

‘Geta please… My emperor. I… I’m begging you!’ you whined. Geta growled in pleasure, feeling his own release coming soon. He loved how possessive you could be. 

‘Cum now,’ he commanded. ‘Cum for your emperor.’ His thrust was harder and harder, his movement frenetic, pushing him even deeper.

It felt like he was hitting in your belly behind your navel. Your breath grew heavier and your skin was pink with touches of red where the young emperor marked you. A sudden wave crashed over you and you let out a loud moan, screaming his name. Geta felt your pussy pulsating around him and your legs shaking while he was fucking you through your orgasm.

His release soon was following as he buried himself to the hilt one last time, his hot cum paiting your inner walls white. When he pulled out, he kept you folded to watch his cum leaking out, mixing with your blood and release. Geta licked his lips and before you could see or do anything, his tongue licked you clean, the sensation of his mouth over your fold overstimulating you.

He hums, and the last thing you heard before passing out was Geta’s low voice.

‘You taste so good you’re a Gods meal.’

[arroganceisherfavoritecolor]

riding hamzahs thigh... 😛

distraction

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ Hamzah teaches you a lesson for being needy...

warnings: smut!! kinda mean!hamzah, reader is a needy hoe prob bad grammar LOL

You stood at the door way of Hamzahs room. He was currently editing a video, his face almost buried in the computer screen. It'd been hours since he had emerged from his cave. Hamzah had been real focused on editing videos lately. He would stay up late and wake up late, the cycle repeating. He hadn't touched you in 3 days, excluding the occasional kisses here and there.

So, you decided to grab his attention. You walked over to Hamzahs chair and stood on the side of it. His glasses reflected the computer screen, snippets of him and Martin playing over and over. "Hamzah." you said, maybe speaking to him would make him look at you. All he did was "hm" in response. You narrowed your eyes down at him. "Lets go to bed, its late." Hamzahs eyes were still focused on his god forsaken computer. This time, he muttered an "mhm." It was then that you realized you'd have to up your game to grab his attention.

You walked behind his chair and put your hands on his shoulders. "Its been days since you touched me, y'know. Don't you miss me?" Hamzah stopped messing with his computer for a second...and then went back to doing so. He simply nodded. You traced your fingers slowly around his neck. Despite his intense focus, Hamzah couldn't help but shiver at your touch. You could feel his adams apple bob up and down as he swallowed hard. Despite his skin tingling from you, he couldnt pull his eyes away from the screen.

"C'mon baby, lets go to sleep" you said as you pressed a kiss onto Hamzahs neck. He inhaked sharply at the sensation of your lips on his skin. He could feel his own despire beginning to spark. But he pushed it down, his focus never wavering from the task at hand. His big hands continued flying over the keyboard. You began feeling frustrated. Usually, Hamzah was desperate for you, kissing you and touching you. Now, you were the one desperate for him.

You traced your mouth back up and softly bit his ear. Hamzah jumped slightly at the sudden sensation. His fingers fumbled over the keyboard, the cursor blinking as he messed up the timeline of the video. You pulled your face away from his neck and stepped back. Hamzah slammed his hand down on the desk. He spun his chair around to face you, his eyes darkened by irritation and frustration. "You are so fuckin' needy, you know that? You expect me to drop everything I'm doing to give you some attention, huh?"

You stood there with your hands behind your back. In all honesty, you felt bad for messing up his editing of the video. Yet, you couldn't help but feel your stomach turn at his intense gaze and sharp tone. Hamzah could see the desire in your eyes, the way your breath quickened slightly. He scoffed, shaking his head as he leaned back in his chair. "No fuckin' way...you're getting off on me being pissed at you?" he asked, looking up at you.

All you could do was stand there, feeling like a bad dog. He let out a harsh chuckle and crossed his arms. "Fine. If youre so fuckin' needy, go ahead and get yourself off then" he said, turning around back to his computer. "W-what do you mean?" you asked, your voice slightly shaky as you were scared to piss him off further. Then you'd really be in trouble. Hamzah turned back around, an annoyed look on his face. He let out a sigh and pat his thigh, gesturing for you to come sit.

You obliged and perched yourself on his thigh, your face meeting his. You waited for him to wrap his arm around your waist and pull you closer, but it never came. So instead, you wrapped your arms around his neck to balance yourself as you sat atop of his thigh. He continued to work on his laptop, but now at a slower pace.

You couldnt seem to pull your eyes away from his concentrated face. The way his big eyes were so focused, the way his eyebrows were furrowed, the way his plump lips were locked in a pout. Hamzah glanced at you and sighed. "I told you to take care of yourself, didn't I? I dont got all day to sit here and watch you mope around like a needy fuckin' slut" he said, his eyes going back to being fixed on the computer. You whimpered at his harsh words. Hamzah wasn't usually irritated like this, especially not with you.

But in this moment, he was just so sexy, so dominant. You couldn't help but begin to move back and forth slightly on his thigh. You were only wearing a pair of thin shorts, a t-shirt and panties. It didn't take much for your touch deprived body to feel friction. Hamzah gritted his teeth as he tried to ignore the way you were grinding on him. He could feel himself slipping into your lustful whims, but he refused to let you distract him further. His fingers continued to type away at the keyboard.

You turned your head to the side, almost behind you, to watch his hands work. The same hands that gripped your body like dough, the same hands that would be around your neck at this time of night. You sighed softly, your pussy fluttering at the memory of his fingers toying with you. Hamzah glanced up briefly, catching your wistful sigh. He then averted his gaze back to his computer. You continued to grind back and forth, your speed increasing a bit with each passing moment.

You pulled your left arm away from his neck to lift up your shirt, your tits bouncing out. Hamzah flicked his gaze up to you. He could feel his pants tighten at the tantalizing sight of your breasts. But he quickly focused his attention back to editing, his jaw clenched as he willed himself to focus. You slid your hand off of his neck and let it play with your tit as you rode Hamzahs thigh with greater force.

You put your other hand back against the desk, your thighs gripping onto his as you held yourself up. You pulled your shorts and panties to the side, a slimy string of wetness connecting them. Hamzah glanced down and almost moaned. His cock was twitching in his pants, the sight of his girl reduced to a desperate whore nearly too much for him to handle. You rubbed your pussy hard against his thigh. He was wearing grey sweatpants, so not only could you see his bulge but also the trail you were leaving. You couldn't tell which one turned you on more.

As your grounded and rubbed yourself against Hamzah, you tried to replicate the feeling of his mouth by spitting on your tits. You rubbed your own saliva on your nipples, making them pebble impossibly harder against the cool air. Your mouth fell open, soft sighs and moans spilling out. Your eyes darted back and forth from Hamzahs face to his dick, the sights damn near bringing you to tears. His resolve was crumbling with each sound that came out of your mouth. "Please. Please touch me, Hamzah. I promise I'll be good-"

Hamzahs concentration finally shattered at the sound of his name falling desperately from your lips. He grabbed you by your hips and threw you onto the bed. He stood up from his chair and loomed over you. "Tell me what you want" he said, looking down at you with reluctant desire. "Need you, baby. Please" you begged, spreading your legs open. Hamzah stared down at your messy folds. Your pussy was soaked and he hadn't even touched you, not in days. He began untying his sweatpants, his gaze never tearing away from your pussy.

"You better make this worth my time."

(RAAAH this was my first time writing for hamzah hope u guys like :3)

[sunsbaby]

❝ birdie, where did my jacket go? ❞

⋆ dean w. x photographer .ᐟ reader

the air was crisp and cool, sam had stayed behind in the hotel—choosing to research lore instead of hanging out you and his brother. well, it wasn't really hanging out. more like investigating the scene. a metal aroma clung to the air, death loomed over your shoulders. and of course, a camera was in your grasp.

dean glanced over at you, a soft smile formed on his face as he saw the way your eyes twinkled with childlike excitement every time you got your little hands on a camera. for as long as he's known you—which hasn't been long—he's only had fond memories. no fights, only playful ones, and you've always made him feel safe. your free nature was inviting, a warmth radiated off of you; even in the cool air you were like the sun. bright and warm.

"de, i think i got something!" you shouted, even though you two were rather close.

you giddily showed him the image reflecting off of your camera, an array of sulfur almost spread out around where the body was found. the smell was overrided by the scent of blood. you were proud of your work—more importantly your photo taking skills.

"damnit, demons." dean groaned, he hated those black eyes bitches so much.

"i mean, demons aren't hard to kill–we have that demon knife for a reason." you stared at him in confusion, why was he complaining about killing demons when they were practically one of the easiest ever.

"birdie, be quiet, they're just a pain in the ass." dean muttered, rolling his eyes at you—sassy much.

"bla bla bla, 'birdie, be quiet,' bla bla.." you pouted as you stomped back to the car; dean and his attitude were starting to piss you off.

⋆⭒˚.⋆

with sam having stayed up researching just for it to end up being a demon, that meant he wanted to rest and you and dean could handle it. you still were mad he told you to be quiet, who did he think he was. so, you did what any logical person would do—steal his jacket. it was going to be a cold night anyway.

you were sat next to him in baby, you would've liked sitting in the back, but dean said it was inconvenient. in all honesty, he wanted you next to him. he hadn't noticed his leather jacket gone, instead his mind was focused on ganking that demon bitch and sending them right back to hell. your mind, however, was filled with a little you jumping around waiting to get her hands on a camera.

"are we almost there, de." you whined, voice laced with an undertone of annoyance both towards having to be in the car for so long and towards dean.

"birdie, if you ask me that one more time, i'm going to pull baby over and make you walk." he threatened, his eyes sharpened, yet somehow still soft—he could never truly be angry at you.

"geez, someones mad.." you mumbled, quiet enough to where dean wouldn't hear you, but you still felt like you did something.

his jacket emitted a smell of gun powder and whiskey, it was rather soothing. it calmed the fire raging within you towards the man in the driver's seat, it was warm and felt like he was hugging you—which you always liked being in his arms. you're surprised he hadn't noticed yet.

⋆⭒˚.⋆

killing the demon was pretty easy in your books, you did end up with a cut on your face—which could make for a gnarly scar. dean, however, wasn't happy with that.

"you could've gotten seriously hurt, y'know that, right." dean grumbled as he patched up your cheek, pressing a kiss to his fingers and then onto the bandage.

this something he'd picked up from you when you would patch up their injuries. it was now engraved into his brain to do, that and because he knows you would get sad if he didn't; that's something he never wanted to see.

"but de..i got a really cool picture!" your hands clenched onto the polaroid you managed to get of the demon's body flashing as the knife was lodged into its head—by yours truly!

"what's not cool is you getting cut up, and birdie, where did my jacket go?–i swear i grabbed it from the hotel." dean said, his eyes focused more on your face, his mind racing with hundreds of outcomes.

not once did dean ever look anywhere besides your face, the prettiest thing in his eyes. he didn't realize that all this time you were wearing it. to you it was out of spite—well it was—before you figured that there was no reason to stay mad at dean. he and sam were your safe place, and what's a safe place if your mad at it; a non safe place or something like that.

"de, i've been wearing it silly!" you giggled, the sound was music to his ears, it made his heart clench and his eyes shine.

"oh, well, looks good on you birdie." he planted a kiss to the top of your head before leaving to grab a beer, or two.

he didn't understand the feeling and emotion brewing inside him as he took in your appearance. how beautiful you looked in his jacket; not sam's. not your own. his. the one thing he did know his that he couldn't let it take over, not when your the only other person beside his brother and cas he couldn't bear to lose.

sunny yaps! WOAH! something long from sunny, its a miracle AHHHH! JUST KIDSDINGG! I LOVE YOU GUYS AND I HOPE YOU ENJOYYYYY!

special tags! @bluemerakis @figthoughts @dulcescorderitas @h8aaz @deansbeer

𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 ® 𓂃 do not repost or copy my works without permission!!

[singwithflynn]

TEXTING: RAE Flynn: I'm sorry. Flynn: I've been trying to figure out how to tell you. Flynn: I just Flynn: I wanted you to still see the best in him, I guess. You always see the best in people, and I don't always know if Noah deserves it. But I've known him so long, y'know? I wanted to assume there was, like, some shred of good in there too. And if you could see it, maybe he's not as bad as I'm telling myself Flynn: I'm an asshole. I shouldn't have kept it from you.

TEXTING: FLYNN Rae: oh Rae: okay

[caparrucia]

There's a fork in the road, when you're unlearning toxic shit, that I like to call the Slur Event Horizon. Where you've learned just enough about social justice to identify the surface symptoms of oppressive structures, but you haven't really internalized the principles on a foundational level.

So you find yourself staring at the face at someone you really fucking hate, and fumbling for a slur to use.

Because you come from a culture (built on those oppressive systems) that has taught you slurs are the words you use, in this situation. You have cultural baggage that has taught you how to handle this situation, and the way you handle this situation is by yelling a slur at someone.

But here's the thing, you've also learned from peers and mentors that social justice is in fact a thing you want to cosign. You agree with everything you've been told about social justice. You think women should be people and gays should be married and trans people should get all the dresses or drugs they want to be happy. You have Black friends and Asian friends and you even know the difference between Latino and Hispanic. Your crush turned you down but you were okay with it because they're ace and you know that's not just an excuse, that's just who they are.

You like to think you're a good person. Nothing extraordinary, you're not one of those people who are radical in their beliefs. You vote when you find out there's elections (but you don't seek them out or stay on top of them or go to meetings to yell at people or anything). You're normal and pretty decent, even, certainly better than your boomer parents and all their hateful bigotry that you've been really thinking about limiting or cutting off contact because you've realized they make you into a worse version of yourself and, well. Here you are, trying to be better. And then you run into this person that you hate (justifiably, even!) and you need to make it known, you need to grab the festering, vicious, poisonous thing under your tongue and spit it out, preferably in your face.

So you do what you're told and you reach for a slur and it... chafes.

Your feelings are real and valid and burning, but you know better, really. You like to think you do. You know calling someone a name for their gender or race or sexuality is... y'know. Bad.

This might be in fact the reason why you hate this specific person so much! They're so bigoted and evil. They pick on your friends. They've hurt your family. They make a mockery of real tragedies. Perhaps, they have proudly committed or participated in actual, real, serious crimes and the thought alone makes your blood boil.

But you're a good person, and you've done all the reading about why slurs are bad and hurtful and evil.

But just this once...

And here's where the split happens:

Because you can choose to swallow it back and sit with your feelings and internalize a bit more why slurs are not good, actually, and yeah. Yeah, you need to learn a new way to express frustration and anger towards people who, frankly, fucking suck, but who are, at the end of the day, still people.

Or you decide you need a slur, but not like all the other ones, because the problem with slurs, surely, is not that they dehumanize people, but that they target the wrong people. So you come up with a new one. This slur is okay to use, because it's targeting evil people.

Or maybe you decide that in this clear instance, the slur is okay, actually, because the target is irredeemable and unforgivable and not actually a person and therefore it's okay to use a slur because it's not dehumanization if they're not human anyway!

And the thing is, the Slur Event Horizon is where a lot of would-be progressives slideback into bigotry, because now you've made a choice. Now it's not about when you were younger and more ignorant and you didn't know any better. You knew and you made the choice and if someone points out, "yeah that's... that's wrong actually, try again" you will feel very attacked. Obviously targeted. Singled out unnecessarily.

Here's the thing, you can't bully a stranger to backtrack, if they've chosen the wrong option out of the Slur Event Horizon. You can absolutely nudge a friend or family member and point out you think they've fucked up, because your relationship will serve as a buffer. See, a friend pointing out they might have gone down the wrong road is helpful. Considerate even. People who are close to them care about them, so it's not about punishment or public humiliation, it's about growth!

But a stranger fumbling this will not in fact recalibrate if you yell at them about it. That's not to say you should just let them go about calling the dipshit of the hour slurs. Slurs are bad, they're toxic and hurt people, more than just the person being targeted. They ruin communities and ostracize minorities. Slurs have no place in public spaces and the reaction to them should always be "no", sometimes "FUCK no" and even "the fuck, NO."

My point is, you should not derail the swift, unforgiving response to slurs by trying to shame or bully the user for being a bad leftie or a bad progressive or a bad whatever the fuck ideological group you're part of. You're not changing minds by derailing into a debate about the appropriate use of slurs and whether a specific dipshit has dipshit enough to merit unpersoning. You're just platforming slurs and giving them a veneer of acceptability, because otherwise there would be nothing to debate.

(There is nothing to debate. Slurs are dehumanizing language and if you give two shits about social justice, dehumanization should be the first, biggest nono you learn. And now, "reclaimed" slurs are not the same as slurs. It's not about the words themselves, it's about how you use them. If you're using words as slurs, you've fucked up and fundamentally lost the plot.)

[luvsizedfrellie]

ruined pasta, messy rooms, you dumbass (i care)

Ellie was slumped against her worn couch, the dim light from the string fairy lights casting shadows across her pale face. Her usual energy had drained away weeks ago, replaced by dark circles under her eyes and a perpetual scowl. She hadn't bothered changing out of yesterday's flannel shirt, and her auburn hair looked greasy enough to stick together in clumps. The Savage Starlight comic lying open on her lap hadn't changed pages in hours, she'd lost interest somewhere between panels three and four.

The door creaked softly as you slipped inside, dropping your patrol gear beside the coffee table, your eyes scanning the space until they landed on Ellie. For a moment, you just stood there, taking in the scene: empty water bottles scattered everywhere, unwashed dishes stacked in the kitchenette, and Ellie herself looking like she'd forgotten what sleep felt like.

"Hey," you said softly, dropping onto the couch beside Ellie, you didn't reach out right away, respecting Ellie's personal space even though every instinct screamed at you to pull your friend close.

Ellie grunted, not lifting her gaze from the comic. You recognized the sound, it wasn't even a word, just a noise acknowledging someone's presence while begging them to leave her alone. That was bad.

You slid closer, your shoulder brushing against Ellie's. "You look like shit, Els."

Ellie finally looked up, her green eyes duller than you had ever seen them. "Thanks. Just what i needed to hear."

The sarcasm was weak, barely there, another red flag. You reached out, gently pushing aside the comic book to examine Ellie's face more closely. Dark circles ringed her eyes, her skin paler than usual, and there was a faint tremble in her fingers when she thought no one was watching.

"You haven't eaten properly in days, have you?" you asked, your voice staying soft despite your growing concern.

Ellie shrugged, looking away. That was all you needed to know. You stood up, heading toward the kitchenette. "I'm making you dinner."

The protest came immediately— "No, i'm fine", but you cut it off with a raised eyebrow. "Save it, Els. You're not fine. You're malnourished, dehydrated, and on the verge of collapse. Joel would kill me if he knew you'd gotten this bad."

Ellie muttered under her breath, something about Joel needing to mind his own business, but she didn't fight it. That scared you more than anything, Ellie always fought. Always pushed back. When she stopped fighting, something was seriously wrong.

As you rummaged through the cupboards, pulling out pasta and vegetables, Ellie watched you with an unreadable expression. For once, there wasn't even a sarcastic comment about your cooking. That silence spoke volumes.

The water boiled, steam rising as you added the pasta. You turned to face Ellie, your eyes locked on hers. "We're going to get you fixed up, 'kay? Starting with food, then sleep, then maybe remembering what showers are for."

Ellie looked down, her shoulders sagging further, you frowned, walking over and sat down beside her again, this time wrapping an arm around her shoulders. For a moment, you were worried Ellie would pull away, as she often did when people got too close. But tonight, she just leaned into the touch, letting out a soft sigh as she rested her head against your shoulder. Her head was heavy against you, her weight an unfamiliar vulnerability that you didn't take lightly. You stayed still for a beat, letting her relax into you, unsure how fragile the moment was or how much Ellie could take before she pushed you away. The soft flutter of Ellie's exhale hit the hollow of your neck, and it hurt—God, it hurt to see her like this.

But then, as you opened your mouth to say something, Ellie's voice came first. "You don't have to do this, y'know."

You frowned, inching back just enough to meet Ellie's gaze. “Do what?”

She didn't look at you, eyes instead locked on some faraway spot on the floor. Her hand fidgeted in her lap, pulling at the worn hem of her flannel. "Pretend you give a shit," she muttered under her breath. "I know Joel probably got to you. Or whoever else decided to send you over here to play nurse or... whatever. It's fine, I get it. You don't have to stick around."

The words came out sharp, like teeth, but you could hear the crack in Ellie's voice beneath it all. She was exhausted, completely raw, and so tangled up in the lie she was telling herself that she probably believed it. That no one gave a shit. That you didn't.

It pissed you off.

"Okay, stop," you said quietly, your voice firm but without heat. "I am stopping you right there, Ellie, because that's the biggest load of bullshit i've ever heard."

That got her attention. Ellie's head snapped up, her green eyes narrowing, defiance flickering faintly across her face like a sputtering match. "’Scuse me?"

"You heard me." you didn't flinch, didn't hold back. You grabbed Ellie's chin lightly, but firmly enough that her couldn't look away. Your brows knit together, voice softening but not losing its punch. "This?" you gestured vaguely, indicating the mess in the room, the state Ellie had let herself fall into. "This isn’t on Joel. Or anyone else. I came here because i fucking care about you. And I'm not gonna sit around watching you destroy yourself like this, blowing off everyone who's been worried sick about you."

Ellie looked like she might bite back, like she might throw off your hand and bury herself deeper into her own misery. But something about the steadiness in your voice—or maybe the weight behind your words—kept Ellie planted. The frustration in her faded, replaced by something that set your chest aching: confusion. uncertainty.

"Why?" Ellie whispered, voice cracking on the word. "Why do you care?"

You let out a soft, disbelieving laugh. "Ellie, are you serious? i care because it's you, you stubborn dumbass.

The bluntness seemed to catch Ellie off guard. She blinked, and her mouth opened as if to respond, but—for once—she came up short. You could see the gears turning, could see her processing, could see her struggling to let herself be cared for.

Ellie tried to pull back, shrug your arm off, but you were faster. You caught Ellie's hand in yours—not forceful, just firm enough to keep her from slipping away. "You're not getting rid of me that easy," you murmured, your thumb smoothing over rough knuckles. "Not tonight. Not ever. So, stop telling yourself you don't deserve this, because you fucking do."

Ellie's breath hitched at that. Her lips parted, trembling just slightly like there was something on the tip of her tongue she couldn't quite say. Instead, she whispered, "You don’t have to waste your time. I'm not—fuck, i'm not your problem."

"Jesus, Ellie" you sighed, your frustration softening into something almost tender. "You're not a problem. You’re my friend. My best friend." you hesitated, trying to keep your voice steady as she continued. "Ellie. You're important to me. You have been for as long as i've known you. So, whatever this is, we're going to fix it, together. One step at a damn time. But not if you're gone before we even get a chance to try.".

Ellie stared, lips pressed tight, her throat bobbing as she struggled to swallow the lump rising there. She wanted to argue—you could feel it—but instead, she slumped back into the couch, letting herself lean closer into your side. Her chin dipped, and her voice came out small. Fragile.

"Sorry."

Your hand moved instinctively, slipping into Ellie's unkempt mess of auburn hair, pressing your lips to the top of Ellie's head. "You don't have to be sorry."

She didn't pull away this time. Her breathing grew heavier, but steadier as she let herself sink into your steady warmth, her voice was barely audible now, almost scared. "You really care that much?"

Your voice dropped, becoming softer, more vulnerable, almost matching hers as you hold Ellie close to you. "yeah, Ellie. I really do."

The weight of your words seemed to finally break through Ellie's defenses. Her eyes grew heavy, fluttering shut as exhaustion dragged her under. You felt the subtle shift in Ellie's breathing, the way her body relaxed completely against yours, and you knew she'd drifted off. As you looked down, you noticed the slightest sheen of tears clinging to Ellie's lashes and something tugged sharply in your chest but then, a ghost of a smile touched Ellie's lips, and the ache eased, replaced by a warmth that spread through your veins.

You stayed there for a long moment, just holding Ellie, your fingers carding gently through her hair, the silence of the room was broken only by her and your soft breathing.

"the pasta—shit" you realized with a jolt that the pasta boiling away in the kitchenette, now was undoubtedly a sticky, inedible mess, all you wanted was to make things better for Ellie, and you couldn't even manage to cook a simple meal without ruining it.

You cursed the pasta, cursed the mess, but you didn't regret being there, right beside Ellie. You will be up all night cleaning before she woke up yes but, as you looked back down at her, your features softened instantly. It was worth it, she was worth it.

You carefully adjusted Ellie in your arms, your fingers brushing softly against her cheek. You knew, with a certainty that surprised even yourself, that you would do anything to protect her, to ease her pain, to bring back that spark that had been temporarily extinguished.

You leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to Ellie's forehead. "I've got you, always." you whispered, the words a promise to both Ellie and yourself as she held Ellie close, you let yourself linger in the quiet truth: If only you knew how much i truly do.