#just do what feels right whether it's to laugh

[gallavichsreddie1128]

If She Knew.....(Joel Miller)

Description: Y/N is Ellie’s big sister and is engaged to Joel behind her back. (Takes place in season 2)

Warning: Smut

Word Count: 1,300

Author’s Note: Will make this a series as the show goes on.

Y/N smirked and laughed as Ellie shouted that she was immune. She didn’t wanna be a bad influence and get away with crazy shit but that’s what big sisters are for. Tommy was annoyed with Ellie fucking around so much but glared at Y/N for encouraging Ellie but Y/N couldn’t take away the fun for Ellie. Y/N was keeping a secret from Ellie and felt guilty about it but knew that Ellie wouldn’t approve of it so she had to keep it a secret.

Y/N was dating Joel and had an engagement ring that she had to hide from Ellie. She hated keeping it from Ellie but she knew that Ellie would never forgive either of them if she found out. She already was on the fence with Joel and had been for awhile. “Ellie let’s go.” Y/N said to her sister who had no shame in screaming to the world that she was immune.

They all got back on their horses and headed back to town. Y/N smiled at the thought of Joel with his glasses and looking over the map and trying his hardest to help people out. Her smile dropped as she thought of the fact that she was keeping her relationship with Joel from Ellie. 

Y/N walked into Joel’s office with a smile. He looked up at her, “Hey.” He said and removed his glasses. “Don’t stop on my account.” She said, swaying her hips as she walked over to him. “You’re a distraction.” He joked and she laughed as she got on his lap, his arms going around her waist. She leaned down and kissed him a few times, making him slap her ass, “It’s tempting.” He mumbles and she laughs, pulling away from the kiss.

“Can’t blame a lady for trying.” He sighed and stared at her, “How’s Ellie?” He asked and Y/N saw the sadness in his eyes. She hated the way Ellie was treating him but she was still young and hated being told what to do. “She’s okay. She’s shameless, that's for sure.” Y/N cupped Joel’s face. “She’ll come around.” She mumbled before giving him a passionate kiss. Joel kissed back and squeezed her ass, causing her to gasp. He took this opportunity to slide his tongue in her mouth.

Her hands moved to his salt and pepper hair before tugging at it a little, making him groan. “We can’t. Not here.” He mumbled against her lips. She sighed but pulled away from his lips. “Have you been wearing your ring?” He asked and she shrugged, “Not around Ellie, I don’t want her to ask questions.” She looked down, the last part coming out as a whisper. Joel cupped her face, “I get it. I never have to hide it from her. I barely see her.” She gave him a sad smile, “I’m sure that if she found out that’ll give her more leverage to avoid me and start avoiding you.” Y/N sighs at his words but knows that he was right.

“Yeah I don’t think she’d approve either.” She whispered and shook her head, “The age difference is a big thing but the fact that we’ve kept it from her for so long…I just know that she would hate us even more.” Y/N knew that this wouldn’t help Joel’s feelings but they can grieve together. The truth was that Ellie was going to find out eventually, whether they liked it or not. 

“You going?” Y/N asked Ellie as she did her hair in the garage. Y/N wanted to laugh about how much Joel despised Ellie living in it but held it back. The garage was very nice but it was an escape from everything..from Joel. “Possibly.” Ellie said and looked at her big sister. “I think you should, maybe you can make a move on Dina.” Y/N winked at Ellie who flushed red. “Oh my god.” She groaned and Y/N laughed before there was a knock at the door.

Y/N knew it was Joel but looked at Ellie, “Come in.” Ellie said and seemed shallow. Joel entered and tried to hide his awe at Y/N. She looked beautiful. Ellie didn’t even look at Joel when she spoke which hurt his feelings but then he offered to fix her guitar strings and Y/N saw that Ellie felt bad. “I’ll see ya there.” Y/N told her as she left the garage with Joel. “She hates me.” “Joel” Y/N hated that he felt that way about the situation and frankly Ellie would warm back up to him.

“She barely looked at me, Y/N.” He said once they were inside the house. “I know and I know how you feel but she will come around.” Y/N tried to plead but Joel wasn’t having it. He shook his head and sat down on the couch, putting the guitar down. Y/N walked over to him and got in his lap. “You look so beautiful.” He whispered to her and she smiled.

“Yeah? Maybe you should do something about it, Miller.” She teased him and he pulled her closer so they could kiss. She moaned softly into the kiss, finally relieved that they had alone time. Their kiss got more heated and she pulled away, “Joel, I would have sex with you anywhere but I prefer the bed.” She whispered in his ear before playfully biting it. 

“Joel.” She moaned softly in his ear as he fucked her. “Feels so good, baby.” She whimpered and closed her eyes, focusing on the sounds of him groaning in her ear. His hips weren’t going fast but hard and slow, just how she liked it. They had time to spare while Ellie was at the party. Her hands gripped his back, making him groan.

“Your pussy feels incredible.” He told her and she clenched around him, causing him to grunt. “Fuck, do that again.” He demanded and she did, this time he moaned. A sound that she loved and always made it her mission to get him to make those sounds.

“Joel, I’m close.” She warned as she felt her climax approaching, it was then that his hips picked up speed to help her. “Cum for me.” He begged and her eyes rolled as she did. He knew just what she would do and stared at her reaction that helped him reach his peak. He groaned her name loudly as he came. “Fuck.” She giggled and pulled him in for a kiss. 

“Do I look like I’ve just had hot sex?” She asked Joel as she fixed her hair. He chuckled, “No, should we go again?” She laughed at the joke before pulling him outside and to the event. When they got there, it was at the right time. Ellie and Dina were kissing and Seth had called them dykes which made Joel freak out and push him.

Ellie was mad about that and Y/N could see it on her face but this was her baby sister so she was going to protect her, “Get the fuck out.” She growled at Seth. “What the hell are you guys doing?” She asked Joel and Y/N. Before Y/N could speak Ellie was already talking, “I don’t need your help.” Y/N opened her mouth to say something but closed it, realizing that Ellie could protect herself but it was the big sister instinct in her.

“Right.” Joel said before leaving Y/N walked after him calling his name. “Joel.” He turned to her, “She hates me, Y/N. There's your proof.” He told her and she sighed, “Joel, she even snapped at me. She wanted to look big in front of Dina.” Y/N tried to reason but Joel grunted something and started walking. Y/N knew that there was no way for her to prove it without Ellie but she knew that Ellie didn’t hate Joel.

[elysianstarfall]

blue lock boys w/ a super expressive reader (hcs)

summary: your emotions are always written all over your face, and your actions are also a dead giveaway. what does your boyfriend think?

characters: isagi yoichi, bachira meguru, nagi seishiro, mikage reo, itoshi rin

a/n: god i hope this makes sense

i. yoichi

LOVES IT. SO MUCH.

he's always using so much brainpower trying to figure out what his teammates/opponents are thinking

so when he can tell how you're feeling with one look at your face, he's genuinely so happy

his brain is fried, he deserves a break

doesn't mean he doesn't care about you though!!

still has to figure some stuff out, but most of the time he notices your mood and adjusts to match it

you're really excited about something? he tries his best to get into it too

you're lowkey depressed? he softens his voice and listens to you intently

gets you whatever you need

the second he sees you're uncomfortable or something he tries his best to get you out of the situation even at his own expense

will embarrass himself to make you feel better

you always tell him he's the best bf ever but you seriously make it so easy for him to be

b. meguru

"you're just like me fr..."

yeah he's basically the same

you guys literally just sync up by accident

like if one of you is happy, the other one's mood just instantly gets better too??

bluetooth ahh relationship

also, miscommunication? what's that?

you know each other's feelings so well that misunderstandings are pretty much nonexistent

if something's wrong, it's so obvious

like if you're moping he'll make you talk things out with him or tell him what's wrong

same if he's feeling sad

thinks it's adorable when you're excited and your eyes just straight up light up

he just gets a stupid smile on his face which makes you even happier

cue the never-ending cycle of emotions

you guys are so soulmates

n. seishiro

he's so, so grateful

he doesn't have to put in any work deciphering your emotions? sign him up

consider yourself not a hassle!

it's actually perfect for a lazy guy like him

finds your facial expressions really cute

even when you're just voice calling, he can hear everything you're feeling

like when you laugh or when he can hear your smile when you're talking, he can relax

happy gf = he's doing something right

oh but when you're mad...

save him, he has no clue how to fix it

actually scared to talk to you because you look like you're gonna beat him up

and when you don't even look mad, when you act nonchalant and distant and he can't tell how you're feeling?

yeah, he's cooked and he knows it

will give you an apology with tears

he'd rather avoid that so he tries to keep you happy

m. reo

ok idk why they're all grateful but yeah. he is too.

he's been dealing with nagi's unemotional ass for forever, so he's pleased that someone actually shows their emotions and lets him know how they're feeling

finds it really helpful when he gets you stuff since he knows whether or not you actually liked it

like if your reaction is clearly fake as hell he knows not to get you something like that again

he doesn't take it personally ofc, just uses it to refine his gift-giving abilities

really likes it when you're genuinely happy because of something he gave you

you cannot stop him from blowing insane amounts of money on you

in his eyes you deserve it

just let it happen bro

also he's kind of a romantic and he loves seeing your reactions when he does something cliché or stupid

tells you horrible pick up lines out of nowhere and thinks it's so funny when you actually get flustered

i. rin

he couldn't care less.

JK he's secretly very happy

there's only room for one emotionally unavailable partner in the relationship (him)

so at least one of you can tell how the other's feeling!

thinks it's nice that he can tell when you're mad at him

because let's be real he's lowkey insecure

abandonment issues are not for the weak

so when you reassure him and your expressions and actions are backing it up?

he just fell for you even harder

but when you are mad? ouch

he's a "my gf is mad at me i hope i die" kinda bf but he keeps it very lowkey

will just sulk until he gets so sick of you ignoring him or being mean to him that he awkwardly breaks down and gives you a very sincere apology

hopes you never change because he loves you the way you are

[anglbunny]

I HAD ANOTHER IDEA AND I KNOWWWW YOULL BE ABLE TO EXECUTE IT.

so can i maybe request a sae itoshi who’s struggling to keep the nonchalant act with fwb!reader when jealousy takes over him????????????? ikkkk u see the vision.

BTW UR THE BEST. LOVE U 😛😛

.ᐟmore than nothing ♡ sae

.ᐟcw: fwb but feeling, smut mdni, sae's possessive, jealousy

"𝑇ℎ𝑒𝑠𝑒 𝑔𝑖𝑟𝑙𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑦 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑔𝑜 𝑏𝑒𝑡𝑤𝑒𝑒𝑛 𝑚𝑦 𝑏𝑒𝑑𝑠ℎ𝑒𝑒𝑡𝑠" - 𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑜 𝑖𝑡 𝑏𝑦 𝑐ℎ𝑎𝑠𝑒 𝑎𝑡𝑙𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑐

･･ꕀ𖧷

He was watching you. Sitting across the room, untouched glass of whiskey nearly cracking under his unforgiving grip. 

He watched as you laughed at another man’s joke, soft fingers wrapped around his arm as you leaned closer to him. 

He tried ignoring it, he really did, even pulled out his phone to scroll through instagram but his thumb was frozen in place while his eyes undressed you. You looked too good to look away from, smiling from ear to ear, skirt too short, too perfect, too fuckable, too his. 

But you weren’t his. You didn’t belong to sae did you? You guys were just fucking because it was convenient. So whatever you did with other guys was none of his concern, whether you smiled at them or even let them fuck you like he does. 

Who was he kidding? The second you left for the washroom, sae stood up, slipping past the drunken bodies and following close behind. 

He didn’t corner you or pin you against the wall like a jealous bf. That wasn’t him. He wasn’t that guy.

He just leaned back on the wall beside the bathroom, catching you off guard when you saw him. 

“You have fun flirting with him” 

You quirked a brow, shooting a quick grin before covering it. “Jealous?” 

“Me? Jealous? You’re hilarious, yn.” he said with a straight face. His arms crossed over his chest, you stepped closer, invading his privacy. 

“What, sae? Say it” you said through bared teeth, barely inches away, pushing yourself into him just enough to drive him wild. 

He sighed, running a hand through his hair before straightening his back. 

“We’re not dating, you can see whoever you want” 

“Fucking perfect, no problems then, right?” you smiled sweetly, tilting your head as his eyes narrowed on you. You scoffed, pushing the bathroom door open to step inside. You didn’t close it behind you because you knew sae also dared to enter behind you. He shut the door behind him, your stomach churning at the lock's soft click. 

His body was screaming at him to take you and make you say you belonged to him but he held back. But for how long? You turned to face him, hand on his chest to push him back just enough for his back to touch the door. 

“Say, if you aren’t jealous, why did you look like you were about to kill a fucker” he knew you were right. No matter how hard he tried, it wouldn’t diminish the rage that flowed through his veins when he saw you with someone else. The way his fists were clenching, the nerve in the corner of his forehead nearly bursting. He didn’t reply, instead, he let his actions speak. 

Flipping the two of you so you were the one against the door, he gripped your jaw like he had issues with it and slammed his lips down onto yours. Not sparing you a second to breathe. It wasn’t soft or delicate. He was devouring you, teeth, tongue, hand down your spine. You arched into him, tugging at his shirt for more. It wasn’t enough. You gasped at the metallic taste in your mouth. He bit down on your lip so hard it started bleeding. 

“Fuck” he groaned, licking it clean. He was barely holding on. Barely controlling himself. His elbow planted on the door beside your face. Leaned in just enough to whisper against your red lips. 

“You like testing me?” his voice a hushed growl. 

You licked his lips, “i like reminding you i’m not yours” his jaw clenched, grabbing a handful of your thighs to lift them up. Reaching under your skirt to pull off your panties. 

“Do you always ruin these or is it for me” he looked down at your damp panties, dropping them onto the dirty bathroom floor. “And.. are you sure you’re not mine?” he whispered, unbuckling his pants, pulling out his angry cock from his boxers. Adjusting your leg around his waist. “It’s just sex, sae. That’s what you said, right” he let out a sharp breath before thrusting the full length inside in one long thrust. You cried out but it quickly died down when sae slapped a hand over your mouth. 

“Yeah go ahead and announce to the whole neighbourhood you’re getting fucked” 

He groaned as you tightened around him, arms around his neck to maintain balance and to scar his back with your nail marks. 

“Tell me it’s just sex, now” his voice was mean, rough, as he slowly moved his hips. 

“Sae-”

“Tell me other men can make you scream like i do, fucking tell me, yn” his cock had your mind hazy, you couldn’t think straight as you mumbled his name between delicious moans. 

“Tell me, fuck, tell me other men can touch you like this” the sound of skin slapping echoed in the bathroom, maybe even the people outside could hear. You were praying the music was louder outside or perhaps everyone was too knocked up to hear. Your body visibly recoiled with each of his brutal thrusts, ruining your face, hair and makeup. His lips trailed down your neck, sucking red spots on very obvious spots. He wasn’t jealous, he said. 

His cock was aching, but he couldn’t stop, couldn’t finish now when your pussy started throbbing and sucking him in. 

Not that you had much strength in you but you stared at him, a weak cocky grin on your lips. 

“You’re the one who said feelings ruin things, remember?”

“Oh yeah?” he bit down on your collarbones, “Then why do I feel like I’m about to lose my fucking mind when I picture someone else between your legs?”

His cock went deeper, kissing your sweet spot making your toes curl and dig your nails in his back. He wasn’t just fucking you. He was claiming you. You were quiet, letting him ruin you with a scowl on his face. 

“Tell me to fuck off and i’ll leave, i’ll stop and won’t look back” he voice was softer, barely. Your eyes wide and for the first time, sae might’ve actually left you speechless. He chuckled but nothing was funny. He kissed you like you belonged to him. He fucked you like he loved you but he could never bring himself to say it. So he stayed silent 

Each thrust was another silent scream.

Each groan, a word he couldn’t bring himself to say.

So when you came undone around him, sobbing his name, clutching his shirt like it meant something—

He broke.

Entirely.

He buried his face in your neck, breathing you in, chasing after his own release. 

“Don’t go home with him.. If you do, i might seriously end up killing him” he groaned, slipping out at the right time and cumming all over your sloppy cunt. You were silent. 

“Just.. stay” he was being vulnerable, but he couldn’t care less. You clung onto him like your life depended on it. Maybe it did. 

Maybe it did depend on him, like how his life was ruined by a girl he said he didn’t love. 

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A/n: this lwk ahh but i tried, i was rlly sleepy, hope u like it </3. ignore the mistakes, i didn't edit yet. and thanku sm, i'm glad u like my work

ꨄ︎Anglbunny | Do not copy, steal or translate my work and pngs. you'll be blocked.

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[windyremedy]

puppy pleads

pairing: bakugou katsuki x reader

scenario: realizing that katsuki does everything you want ft. my dad with the dog he said he didn’t want

Takeshi Bakugou compared to his other siblings listened to his parents the best. Not that the others don’t but by far he’s the quickest to respond doing whatever they asked, whether it be to go sleep on time or help sweep the floors. But one thing’s for certain and something he probably got from his father is that he’s unshaken when he sets his mind to something and that something he wants is a pet, a companion if you will.

But no matter how much times he asks and pleads they always seemed to tell him no. Well more specifically his dad refused, telling him that they’re too messy and require a lot of work. Takeshi understood that they probably couldn’t afford taking care of another living being especially since they had their hands full with his baby sister but c’mon he was feeling lonely. After his oldest brother left for U.A early and his other brother busy with presedential club duties things were just too quiet for his liking.

Don’t get things twisted though he didn’t feel left out with his parents. In fact he adores his baby sister and loves being an older brother after being the youngest for so long but can’t a boy just get another pal?

“Mom can you please convince dad to agree.” he begged as you sat there amused on a kitchen stool, feeding Asami a spoon of baby food.

“Love he tells me no too y’know.” you informed laughing slightly at his incredulous expression.

“Impossible!” he exclaims in total disbelief.

“It’s true, remember when he was on that one long month mission and you wanted to gonna sleep in our room because you missed your dad so much you wanted to sleep on his side of the bed because it smelled like him.”

“Yeah what about that time?” he asked skeptically.

“I asked him for a specific snack but it was already too late to get anything.” you replied wiping Asami’s messy mouth.

“But then he bought some coming home though, a few days after he got back he secretly ordered online and got them for you.” Takeshi pointed out with pinched eyebrows and a detective pout.

“Oh! I guess you’re right. Well there was also the time where I wanted to get another plushie for Asami but he said there was already too many.”

“Uh huh and he bought that too when you weren’t looking.” he confidently retorts.

“But….”

“Got you that too…”

“Also…”

“Surprised you…”

“That time…”

“Actually…”

And many more instances where you remembered Katsuki had told you no but actually in fact got what you wanted anyway.

“Okay! okay, maybe he doesn’t say no to me a lot.” you admitted, now realizing that fact.

“At all.” He corrected.

“Fine, I’ll ask your dad but I’m not promising anything kay? now can you please get more tissues before— wait Asami no!” you pried her little arms from trying to eat the food around her face with her palms.

“Kay!!” Takeshi smiled avoiding the messy onslaught and already looking like he just got what he wanted.

three months later

“Dad you can’t be giving Snowball too many snacks.” Takeshi laughed at the sight.

The small little puppy laying peacefully on the large hulking figure whose expression can send enemies running was a whiplash to see for sure. He had just gotten back from school and the new addition in to the family seemed to be fitting in perfectly. Takeshi knew just a couple weeks after his mom asked that his dad would give in.

“He wanted a treat, I can’t not give him a treat. What do you want me to do? not give him a treat? I have to give him a treat.”

“Okay dad.”

©windyremedy

[celestialgalaxyglow]

Batfam and Danny, Part 33

A few days later at the gala.

Jon: There's a lot of people here.

Damian: Unfortunately.

Jason: Let's just get through this night.

Danny (to Damian): Try not to murder anyone uncle.

Damian: No promises.

Jon: I'll keep him in check.

Bruce: Thank you Jon.

Damian (done with his family): Let's go Jon.

Damian dragged Jon to the snack table.

Jon: Snack break already?

Damian: Trust me these people are easier to handle with a full stomach.

Jon: Well I'm not going to reject free food.

Damian: That too.

Jon: You're rich, everything is basically free to you.

Damian: That's true.

A few minutes later.

Jon: What's going on over there?

Damian: Hmm? They're clearing the dance floor to well dance.

Jon smiled and held out his hand to Damian.

Damian: Seriously?

Jon: What? We are here together aren't we?

Damian (smiling): Fine but if you step on my shoes I will throw you out the nearest window.

Jon (smiling): Don't threaten me with a good time.

The two made their way to the dance floor and started to dance.

Damian: I don't mean to sound rude but I did not expect you to know how to dance.

Jon: And yet you brought me to a dance and didn't give me any lessons.

Damian: Fair. But how do you know how to dance?

Jon: My grandparents.

Damian: Ah of course, why didn't I think of that?

Jon: Less thinking more dancing, you're rather slow.

Damian (hearing a challenge): You're on Kent.

Jon: Just try to keep up Wayne.

After several minutes of dancing.

Damian (laughing): I haven't had that much fun in a while.

Jon: Me neither.

Damian: You're covered in sweat.

Jon: You too... why don't we sneak away to the roof? Get some fresh air.

Damian: Sure. Let's get away from these rich Gothamites.

At the roof.

Damian: Fresh air.

Jon: You bats have really cleaned up the city.

Damian: We still have a long way to go. Don't tell anyone else I said this but I hope one day Gotham might be like Metropolis.

Jon (looking at Metropolis on the other side of the river): With your help Gotham will surpass Metropolis.

Damian: Not if you keep helping Metropolis.

Jon: Let's agree to disagree.

Damian: I can agree to that. Damian turned to look at Jon. You ok?

Jon: What?

Damian: You look nervous.

Jon: Well you've looked nervous all night too.

Damian: touché.

Jon: Damian can I ask you something?

Damian: Sure.

Jon: I've been meaning to ask you this for a while now, and I might as well do it tonight. Jon grabbed Damian's hands. Damian Wayne al Ghul, will you allow me to court you?

Damian (blushing): Court me?

Jon: Did I say it wrong?

Damian: Yes! I mean no! I mean- you said it right. I mean yes I'd be happy to have you court me.

Jon: Really?

Damian: Yes, but why me?

Jon: Why not? You're smart, considerate even though you don't like to show it, a great friend, and a greater leader whenever we go on missions together. If anything I should be asking you why you'd agree to go out with me.

Damian: You underestimate yourself. You are also incredibly smart, you know how to deescalate things before they get out of hands, and you are also a good leader. You may not notice it but half the time during our missions you take charge. You're not my sidekick you're my partner, my equal.

The two smiled at each other.

Damian: And an idiot!

Jon: What?

Damian: I was going to ask you to court me at the end of the night!

Jon: Wha?

Damian: At first I was just going to swallow my feelings, but then Danny gave me the idea to ask you to the gala and then decide at the end of the night whether to ask you out or not. I was going to ask you out when we got back to the manor. I made up my mind during our dance.

Jon: Damian...

Damian: Yeah?

Jon (blushing): Me too!

Damian: What!?

Jon: I didn't want to ruin our friendship so I was going to swallow my emotions, but then you asked me to the gala and... I made up my mind as well during our dance... to ask you to court me.

Damian: We're idiots.

Jon: I won't argue with you on that.

Damian: So what now?

Jon: I don't know what do couples do?

Damian: I don't know! My siblings go to restaurants with their partners.

Jon: Or the movies. What if we watch that new assassin movie coming out in a few days? You can tell me all the inaccuracies in it.

Damian: That sounds like an good plan, we can have a private screening in my family's at-home theater. I'm sure my dad can secure the movie before its release.

Jon: Sounds like a plan! Just call me when you get it.

Damian: I will.

The two looked at each other.

Jon: Can we hug?

Damian: Yes!

Jon (still hugging): So does this mean we're boyfriends?

Damian: I think so.

Jon: Should we tell people?

Damian: Let's keep it between our families for now, if that's ok.

Jon: That's fine. Let's keep it between us tonight. We can tell our families tomorrow.

Damian: Works for me.

They broke the hug.

Jon: We should get back to the gala before the others worry.

Damian: Right.

The two held each other's hands and started to head towards the stairs... when they hit something.

Jon: The hell? What did we hit?

Damian: There's nothing here- no...

Jon: What?

Damian: Danny?

The rooftop remained for a few seconds... then Danny appeared.

Danny: Hi...

Jon: How much of that-

Danny: Everything.

Damian: Why-

Danny: I saw you two wondering off and wanted to make sure you didn't get in trouble. Then you two started talking and when I realized what you two were talking about I panicked and froze.

Damian: You were invisible. Why weren't you intangible?

Danny: I panicked!

Jon: Well there's no use hiding it from him.

Damian: Guess not. Jon and I are a couple now.

Danny: Congratulations. And don't worry I'll keep this till you guys tell everyone else.

Damian: Thank you.

Danny: Of course. Now let's get you two back to the gala.

(Master Post)

[leclerc-hs]

off the record! - cl16 SNEAK PEAK!!!

pairing: charles leclerc x race engineer!reader (fem!) summary: in which you and charles don't correct the headlines OR you and charles are fake dating...key word: FAKE...right?

lmk thoughts or anything you would like to see happen!!! xoxo

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Charles is good at pretending. Almost too good.

He’s too swift in front of the cameras, too convincing when his hand always manages to finds the small of your back as you both walk through the paddock like it’s second nature. Like you belong there...belong to him. Too natural in the way he leans toward you in interviews, voice low and warm, muttering things that sound and look intimate even when they aren’t.

Except sometimes, when it doesn’t feel like pretending.

Because no one’s watching when it’s just the two of you in the garage after hours, both of you bleary eyed and sore from staying hunched over the data too long. He’s still like that. Still standing too close. Still reaching for your wrist when you ramble off, his thumb brushing over your pulse like its nothing. Or when he still calls you amour and cherie in that voice, like he doesn’t remember that it’s all fake.

And you let him. You always do.

Because it’s easier than admitting the truth. That you’ve started memorizing the sound of his laugh. Or the shape of the vein in his throat when he’s super focused. That your stomach twists into knots whenever his eyes crinkle from a smile that feels like its just for you. That you’ve memorized the shape of his mouth when he says your name, whether it’s joyful, annoyed, or exhausted, it’s always gentle. Like he cares. Like he means everything.

And that’s what makes it unbearable.

Not the way he touches you when people are watching. Not the photos or the constant headlines.

It’s the way he looks at you when no one else is around.

Like it’s not pretend at all.

[girliism]

i need preggers user x Art

art donaldson x pregnant!reader

-

“is this real.”

art actually couldn’t believe what was in his hands at the moment.

you had to resist the urge to roll your eyes. “yes, of course it’s real.”

a sigh of shock from art filled your dorm room. it was your last year at stanford, and art had already dropped out to focus on his professional tennis career. you two were barely together due to the long distance and now after of one night where you had missed each other too much to worry about things like protection, you were pregnant.

“how -uh- how far along are you?”

“two months.” the baby would be born sometime after your graduation.

art nodded, taking it all in before standing up in front of you. “i know i’m on the road a lot right now, but whatever you need i’ll be there. i promise.” he placed a comforting kiss on your forehead you melted into.

-

art kept his promise. using whatever free time he had to spend on calls with you.

“how’s the baby, did it kick yet?”

“first, they’re not an it, and i’m pretty sure it’s too early for that.”

without fail he was at every doctor’s appointment, leaving wherever he was on tour to fly in to come sit with you in the cold doctors office.

“alright mom and dad are you ready to find out the sex?” your sonographer who’s been with you since the beginning of your pregnancy having bared witness to art’s breakdown at the sound of hearing your babies heartbeat for the first time asked.

you and art shared a look, it suddenly all becoming real.

“yes.” was said in unison.

“looks like you’re having a girl.” she said

twin gasp fell from you and art. a girl.

-

it was probably not a smart move for where art was in his career, but during the last four months your pregnancy art decided to take that time off and stay with you. his coach thought it was a bad idea, but art didn’t care. promising he’d make it up by playing extra hard next season.

“what should we name her?” art had his head resting against your belly, and his hand under your shirt stroking it. you guys were watching some shitty reality tv show that you both couldn’t help but be obsessed with. “i hadn’t really thought about it.” there was so many names to choose from, you were kinda hoping it’d magically hit you when you say her the first time.

“what about…. april?” art lifted his head catching you scrunching your nose up. “what? i’m keeping it on theme with an ‘a’ name.” still you shook your head. “maybe…” you twisted your fingers around in arts curls, thinking. “lilith? can do lily for short.” art opened his mouth to talk, but was cut off by a harsh kick.

“did you feel that?” you whispered. art nodded. of course he felt it, she hit right in the center of his palm. art let out a laugh when she did it again.

“i guess she likes it.”

-

during late nights when he thought you were asleep, art liked to unborn fetus, having read is was good for development.

“hi, baby it art, your daddy. mommas asleep right now which means i have you all too myself.” he whispers into the belly. “don’t tell anyone this, but i’m really fuc-freaking scared. i’ve never dealt with a baby before so please go easy.”

you bit back the smile creeping on your face.

“i can’t wait to meet you. keep thinking about all the things we’re gonna do together. you’re first walk, you’re first word, you’re first tennis racket. just hoping you don’t inherit my back hand, it’s shit.” he laughed, before catching what the time was. “it’s getting late i’ll let you sleep, but just know i love you forever.”

you felt him place a kiss above your belly button. you had to quickly snap your eyes closed when he came to lie next to you.

“and i love you too.” he whispered right in ear, whether you heard it or not. you did.

-

the bigger you got mixed with your emotions being on ten had you feeling insanely insecure. but art thought this was the hottest he’s seen you.

“did you know.” art interrupted your reading by placing kisses on neck. “that having sex can naturally induce pregnancy.” you hummed, mildly amused by his actions. “really?”

“mhm.” art brought his head out of neck to kiss your cheeks and the corner of your mouth. “not that i’m trying to rush the ‘baking’ process. just thought we should try it, you know, bust some rumors.” he wiggled his eyebrows at you.

it was impossible for him to be around you sometimes, but he never acted on it until he saw how you were now. laid out on the bed fresh from the shower with only your bra and panties, it was likely you got too tired to finish getting dressed. you look so round and glowy, it had art’s heart breaking and his cock hardening.

“i mean, if that’s what they say what’s the harm in trying.” you sigh, arching up into art’s touches. the book you were reading now forgotten.

-

the last month has rough. you were a box of nerves, the knowledge that she could come at any time any where was freaking you out.

it was just four days before your due date, and somehow you let art convince you to come watch him practice at the tennis court.

“this one’s for you two!”

art yelled across the court dedicating a back hand hit to you and the baby that ended up hitting the net.

your laughter gets cut off by a particularly hard kick to your abdomen. at first you ignored it but then another came and shorty after that another one.

“oh shit oh shit. i think the baby’s coming.” you hissed.

art’s never driven as fast as he was driving now. red lights and stop signs be damned, he was getting you to that hospital.

you ended up getting there on time, and was changed into a hospital gown, hooked up to multiple machines and given your pain reliever of choice. then before you knew it they were telling you to push.

art was positive you were gonna break his hand from how hard you were squeezing, but he held on equally as tight.

“i can’t do it.” you cried. you were so close to the end, one hard push away from this being over, but you were so tried.

“just one more, it’s almost over.” the doctor encouraged you, but you shook your head.

“come on, baby just one more. one more push you can do it.” art cupped your sweaty face in his hands locking eyes with you as gave one more push. soon the loud cries a baby filled your ears, and fat tears fell down yours and art’s faces.

-

[brainrotcharacters]

Freelancer, Jealous?

Far into the early months of being with Gavin, Freelancer doesn't understand how anyone could sideline any of the incubi.

Schoolmates and faculty alike are actually proud to say that they have a sex demon they can call when they're already in a relationship with another person. Freelancer had been forced to listen to a litany of how that one succubus drastically improved a senior student's relationship with her partner, or how the Intermediate Elemental Command professor rekindled the spark in his marriage when he hooked up with an incubus.

"Do they know you're talking about them like that?" They blurted out at one point. Absolutely no effort went into holding back. "How would they feel?"

They all laughed in Freelancer's face. "Who cares what they feel?"

Damien had tugged at Freelancer's sleeve and whispered. "Maybe don't pick that fight."

Now, monitoring who else Gavin fed from aside from Freelancer ― there's an idea. Where was the guarantee that he wasn't fucking the water elemental tutor or he wasn't taking it up the ass by some broad-shouldered junior that Freelancer walked past in the school halls?

They'd been glaring daggers at yet another schoolmate parroting about the number of positions she put a succubus into when Huxley gently elbowed them in the side. Freelancer snapped, more harshly than intended. "Ow! What?!"

"They're gonna notice you. Why are you glaring?" He said softly, but not weakly.

Freelancer huffed through their nose. They scrape away the frost that formed in the floor beneath their shoes. "Nothing."

Huxley drew his mouth into a thin line. "Damien says your new hobby is listening to anyone bragging about being with an incubus."

"Oh, you speak to Damien a lot, do you?" Freelancer challenged.

"That's not fair." The side of his lips curled. "Unlike me, you're actually dating the person you like. Go talk to him."

At the sigh that escaped Freelancer, Huxley continued in a more serious tone. "We can't both be miserable, Freelancer."

Schoolwork wasn't an effective distraction. For fuck's sake, Freelancer gave their first time to Gavin after reviewing. Every other turn of the pages in the lecture books felt like the strands of Gavin's hair when he was feasting between Freelancer's legs. Each ache in their shoulders and neck was always eased by those lovely hands and that incredibly sinful mouth.

As if summoned by thought alone (it wasn't that far-fetched in actuality), Gavin now lounged on the other end of the couch. He traced lines on Freelancer's calves, smirking like a cat. "Thinking twice about enrolling, deviant?"

Normally a rabid, even feral, creature that relished in his touch, Freelancer slowly pulled their legs back, flipping to the next page. Gavin's hair felt exactly like that when he kissed Freelancer so deeply their voice broke.

Gavin's smirk flickered, but another flash of pleasure from them had him chuckling. Freelancer was playing hard to get.

He crawled across the couch, trailing a line of soft kisses from Freelancer's forearm, up to their bicep, and to their shoulder. That was when the pleasure suddenly folded into itself and became anger.

Fear.

Gavin withdrew, blinking. It wasn't fear of him ― never, unless they were playing it up during sex, but fear... Of... Of something he couldn't pinpoint, watching the person he adored most now ignore him.

"Freelancer?"

They flipped to the next page. Their hand was trembling. "Hm?"

He forced himself to ask calmly. Pretended that he wasn't three seconds away from dying. "Is something wrong?" Did I do something wrong?

Whether Freelancer heard the shift in his tone anyway, or he wasn't as excellent at faking it as he thought, they looked at him. Searched his expression for something he didn't know, but now needed to.

Freelancer's throat bobbed. They anxiously fidgeted with the cover of their lecture book. "Do... Did you just come from..." A frustrated growl. "Are you hungry right now?"

Did you come back to me when you already fed on someone else?

If Gavin was being perfectly honest, the answer was yes. Always, and it bothered him as much as it thrilled him. Something about Freelancer reinvigorates his appetite and dries his throat that only tasting Freelancer could satisfy him. Nothing short of listening to how they moaned when Gavin was completely inside of them, and how they giggled into his bare chest when it was all said and done made him feel weightless. Sex alone couldn't accomplish that ― he would know.

Honesty. That wary, guarded look on Freelancer's face needed honesty and care. "Yes. For you."

Freelancer shut the book and set it aside, facing him fully. Gavin allowed them the quiet to sort through their thoughts. "Your fellow incubi and succubi get into relationships with people who... Already have someone else. Aren't they bothered that they're being cheated on?"

Gavin blinked once. Twice. The words settled. "Most aren't. From what little I hear of their entanglements, they have an agreement. Not every couple has the single-minded rapturous focus that we do, voyeur."

Some of the coldness in their expression thawed. But not all. He considered that beloved face. "Do you have someone else, Freelancer?"

"What? No!" Their hand clamped around Gavin's own, and his core warmed with recognition. There they are. "Don't even think that!"

"Do you think I have someone else?"

Freelancer opened their mouth. Then closed it.

It was a gamble to ask that question. And it paid off. Gavin tenderly kissed the back of Freelancer's hand. "I would only like to say this once. I have never desired any of them the way I desire you."

They clenched their jaw. Before tonight ended, Gavin mentally swore to fuck all of that frustration out of them. He kissed Freelancer's palms lovingly. "Look, I'd like us to be joined at the hip, but your life doesn't revolve around me."

"It should." Freelancer murmured, pouting.

Giggling, Gavin leaned in and kissed them. He was at his most natural self when his lips molded and moved with Freelancer's own, sucking on their tongue and mewling into their mouth. In between kisses, he says. "Jealousy looks amazing on you, Freelancer."

Freelancer pulled away first, wrapping their arms around his neck in a tight embrace. Gavin cradled the back of their head, his other hand slowly making circles on Freelancer's back. I'm here. I'm right here.

"Do you know what happens when I feed on someone else?" He asked quietly. "They're adorable when they're flustered, sure. But my effect on them is too shallow of a reason. When I make you blush, it's because I know you, and I know what excites you. I enjoy being the reason you're flustered, or laughing, or crying with pleasure." Three back to back kisses on Freelancer's head for emphasis. "I feed on someone else, and I just make comparisons with you. I just miss you... Freelancer?"

They were breathing deeply, slowly against him. Unshed tears glistened in their eyelashes, and their kiss-swollen lips moved with every breath. Asleep.

Gavin chuckled, angling his body farther than he probably should just to plant another kiss on Freelancer's lips. He smiled, and murmured. "Good night, my love. I'll see you in the morning."

[thesvnandthemooon]

𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝

a/n: i don’t know what this is either tbh. inspired by a peter pan edit that used taylor’s song ‘peter’; wrote most of this somewhere between midnight and 5am

summary: natasha romanoff x fem!reader, peter pan!au, kinda loser lost boy!reader

feel like it’s worth mentioning that they’re both adults and it’s very much still fem!reader

warnings: death, grief, angst, mental health issues (i think? nothing too specific)

word count: 5.5k

✷ ✷ ✷ ✷ ✷ ✷ ✷ ✷ ✷ ✷ ✷ ✷

Natasha can't believe her eyes. You're perched on the ledge of her window, bare feet dangling, the crooked little smile on your face telling her that you don't regret this at all.

She doesn't recognize you. Still, part of you feels familiar. She can point out which part, exactly — the scrapes and bruises all over your shins? the hair, middle length and messy? the woolen fingerless gloves? — but it's as unsettling as it is comforting.

It's the middle of the night. Someone randomly entering her room through the window is not normal. Yet she's not reaching for her gun, or attacking you, or simply telling you to fucking leave. She's just sitting there, short red hair tousled and eyes alert. She didn't get much sleep, but that's fine. She's used to it.

"Not gonna say hi?", you ask, kicking your feet. "Very rude."

"Hi", Natasha replies.

Staring at her, you scratch your cheek. "Uh, okay. We'll work on that, I guess."

"You can't exactly expect me to be talkative."

You hop off the windowsill and float through the air, landing right next to her bed. "No", you agree, picking up a picture frame that's sitting on her nightstand. "Who's that?"

Natasha almost jumps out of her bed, but you've already put it back down. You tuck your hands into the pockets of the loose corduroy pants you're wearing and stroll around her room. She watches you, her eyebrows furrowed and her mind working overtime.

You look at random things. You tip your head back to stare at the ceiling. You crouch down on the floor and inspect her boots. She glances at your feet, bare yet clean, and exhales softly.

Her heart is still hammering against her ribcage when you finally decide you've had enough. You stand next to the window again and give her an expectant look.

Suddenly, you reach out your hand. It's like déjà-vu.

"Come on", you urge. "We don't have all night."

That manages to snap her out of whatever stream of consciousness she'd been lost in. She opens her mouth, her fingers curling into the soft bedsheets beneath her.

"I don't know you."

You stop, blinking, and tilt your head. Natasha clenches her jaw.

"Don't be silly", you say. You gesture out the window. Natasha feels her insides twist. Are you expecting her to jump? "Of course you know me. Now let's go, before the stars fall asleep again."

She doesn't do anything. She stays rooted in her spot, grasping at the bedsheets, trying to figure you out. Trying to figure everything else out, too. If she called Clint or Tony to come and take a look at this, they'd probably laugh at her.

You wiggle your fingers. Whoever you are — you're set on her coming with you, wherever you may be going. You're convinced that none of this is odd. That none of this feels like a...

"Is this a bad dream?"

"A bad dream? No." You shake your head, messy stands of hair flying. Apparently, you believe you're a delight. "I find that offensive, to be quite honest, but whatever. A dream, though? You tell me."

Natasha huffs softly. She looks at you, studies you, tries to find out why she isn't making you run. For a moment, she wonders whether she's losing her mind.

"You really aren't talkative, huh", you say, smiling that crooked smile again. Your eyes twinkle. It shoots right into her soul, like a little arrow.

She blinks. You reach out your hand with more insistence.

"You need to see the ship", you say.

"A ship?"

"Mhm. Do you like fairies?"

Natasha hesitates again. Your feet lift off the ground and you float closer, your hand still reaching for her, always reaching for her. Your fingers stretch, and your palm feels warm when she finally touches it.

She gets up and walks to the window with you. Her room is on one of the highest floors of the building, but in that moment, it doesn't worry her. She feels the wind on her face, cool and sweet, and watches you step up onto the windowsill.

You look at her, hair fluttering. There it is again. Tiny but powerful, settling in her body like it's always belonged there.

"You know how to fly?"

She smiles, looking at you and then at the night sky. Her fingers twitch in your grasp. "Not like this, no."

"You don't trust me", you state, eyebrows furrowing and making your eyes seem all the warmer. She pauses. "Why?"

Natasha shakes her head. Even if she tried to explain, you wouldn't understand. You don't seem to understand that none of this is normal, either. That people don't usually enter stranger's houses through windows. That she doesn't know you, and that you don't know her.

You can't know her. She'd know you too if you did, wouldn't she? And she doesn't know you. She's fairly certain of that.

But why does it feel like she does?

You tug at her hand. "I'll help you fly. Promise."

She looks at you. Your smile turns more reassuring, the teasing edge almost gone. All she sees is stars, and they definitely aren't asleep. They're awake, alive, and she wants to die on the spot.

"Come on, Red", you say. She bites her lip when she hears the nickname. "It's Red, isn't it?"

It used to be. She doesn't say it out loud. Instead, she joins you on the windowsill. You wrap your arm around her waist and take that last leap.

. . .

It's unlike anything she's ever experienced. Natasha feels like she's stuck in a dream, but it's so real. The wind is real, warm against her cheeks, and your arm around her waist is real, and the skyline is real. So many stars, twinkling against an ink blue backdrop, and so many buildings. But the buildings disappear, shift, until an ocean stretches out beneath you.

Despite the fact that she's only in a tank top and sweatpants, she isn't cold.

She stares at the water, at your reflections in its surface, and inhales shakily. Your grasp loosens and suddenly she's flying on her own.

"See? You're flying!"

Natasha blinks, her heart rabbiting in her chest. "What are you doing? Come back!"

You laugh, fingers wiggling, and your hands are pulled back together like two magnets. She grasps it tightly. You're not in the sea, not swimming nor drowning, but she needs an anchor.

"Make a wish!"

"Get me back down!"

"Boring", you say, but start your descent anyway.

For a moment, Natasha fears you both might end up in the water. She can swim, of course she can, but the ocean looks cold and dark and way too deep. But then ground appears, solid ground, and her feet sink into warm sand.

Dizzy from flying, she stumbles into you. Just like when you were in the air, you keep her from falling.

You glance at her, smiling tentatively. You look like you're expecting her to get mad. Instead, she turns her head and feels the soft fabric of your sweater against her cheek.

"That was close", she mutters. Her fingers curl into your sweater, and she lifts her head, and your mouths are way too close. She pulls away and puts some distance between you.

"No, it wasn't", you say, a bit taken aback by her sudden...affection? "Nothing's ever close with me. All or nothing."

"Right." She crosses her arms and inspects her surroundings. "Where are we?"

You step backwards, arms lifted. "Welcome to Neverland! Quite nice, huh?"

Natasha nods. She's following without even realizing, her body having a mind of its own. She can't deny it, though. Whether this place is actually called Neverland or not — it is nice.

A winding creek, glittering and splashing gently. Rocks covered in moss. Lush grass, littered with hundreds of little flowers. A forest, but one where the light seeps through the trees and lights up the shore. The moonlight is bright enough to make everything seem whimsy, like straight out of those fairytales she never got read as a child.

She looks at you. A lump has formed in her throat.

"Y/N?"

Picking a flower and straightening back up, you face her again. "Hm?"

Natasha's frozen in place, though. Why does she know your name?

You walk back to her side and tuck the flower into her hair. "Don't question it. Just follow me."

It's almost cruel, how you're able to treat this as some lighthearted little thing while she's just about losing her mind. She'd complain about it, but you wouldn't understand.

Maybe she doesn't need you to understand, though. Having you listen would be enough.

You're already on your way, though. Feet bare, a different flower between your fingers, a new scratch on the back of your shin.

Natasha has two options. Stay behind and be alone in this odd, unfamiliar, albeit slightly magical place, or follow the person that feels like magic itself.

Of course, she chooses the latter one.

. . .

By the time you reach the top of the tree, her palms are scraped open.

You lead her into the treehouse and make her sit down. You get on one knee in front of her, a little bowl of water in hand, and clean the scratches. She watches you, heart thrumming and mind spinning.

"Some soap", you hum, gently scrubbing every speck of dirt away, "and a bandaid."

"It's fine."

"Of course it is."

Natasha's hand twitches in yours. Still holding it, you look up at her. Strands of messy hair fall in front of your eyes, and she blows them aside. You squeeze her hand.

"There", you say, jumping up. You really don't seem fazed by anything, whereas she's constantly having whiplash. Too many emotions, all of them too strong. Too many thoughts, not enough knowledge to decipher them. "This is the treehouse."

"Never would've guessed", she says quietly. You get up and lean out the window, hands braced on the ledge.

For a moment, your figure flickers like a candle that's about to go out. It's like the light disappears, like your outline wavers, like you're a blink away from fading from existence.

Natasha feels the panic, sudden and cold and winding around her body like a snake. It vanishes as quickly as you return to normal, though.

"Are you ever going to tell me?", she asks, voice cracking. You glance at her. "Why I'm here?"

You stay quiet, mulling over her question. Then, you shrug and saunter back to her side. "The real question is: why were you ever not here?"

"You..." Natasha falters. "I was here, wasn't I."

You don't say anything. You hope she'll get there herself.

She doesn't. All that's missing is one last push that you don't give her.

Frustrated, she exhales. You touch her hair, and she stays still, eyes glued to the floor. You wrap a strand of silky red hair around your finger.

"Red?"

"Hm?", she mumbles.

"I was lying."

Natasha looks up. She frowns, opens her mouth, but then decides against saying anything. You bite your lip and trail your fingers along her jaw.

"The stars. They don't fall asleep. Ever."

. . .

"Who are they?"

You're on top of the treehouse, sitting on a bunch of blankets. Knees pulled to your chest and arms crossed over them, you turn your head just enough to look at her.

"My Lost Boys."

Natasha hums. It's an odd bunch of people, that's for sure. She can't tell how old any of them are. They're down there, on the ground, instead of on the roof with you. They're playing with a tiny glowing thing.

A fairy, she reminds herself. Not a tiny glowing thing, but a fairy. You seemed offended when she called it that.

Her. Not it, but her. Damnit.

"What an odd name."

"Why's that?"

"Are they all boys?"

You shake your head. "No."

"Are they lost?"

You shrug. "Aren't we all?"

Natasha smiles, briefly looking at you. "Very poetic. Props to you."

You nudge her. She shakes her head and leans against your side, still watching your so-called 'Lost Boys.'

None of them seem real. They look small from up here, faded, like she can see right through them.

They have a familiarity to them, too. This entire place does. You especially.

She catches one of the girls look up at her. Blonde hair, reaching her shoulders. A shirt with white and red stripes. She waves. Natasha waves back.

"Don't."

She looks at you. "Why?"

"She'll start to miss you again."

One single sentence, and Natasha's getting chills all over. She rubs her face, confused and desperate, and you touch her wrist.

"You can sleep, if you want", you offer. "There's a mattress inside the treehouse."

"What about you?", she asks weakly.

"Lost Boys don't sleep", you say, jumping up. You sound way too at ease, but at this point, it doesn't even unsettle her anymore. "Like the stars."

Natasha stares at you. You hold out your hand, and she glances at it. Woolen gloves, a bandaid around one of the uncovered fingers. A tiny smiley drawn onto the bandaid.

She grabs your hand and you pull her up. You tug with too much insistence, too much confidence, and she finds herself stumbling again. Your arms wrap around her, light as feathers and warmer than any blanket could be.

Chest to chest, she looks at you. Your lips tug into a crooked little smile.

"How many pillows would you like?"

She exhales, and her lips twitch. None of this is funny, yet she's smiling.

You drag a finger down her back, and she squirms. You laugh quietly and her world flips a few times.

"One pillow is fine", she says, studying you. "Where will you go?"

"Where I always go, of course. Come on."

Floorboards creak underfoot. You make your way through a hallway with a ceiling so low even Natasha feels like a giant. You lead her through room after room, offering little explanation but lots of unnecessary humming. She recognizes the tune. It's a Russian lullaby.

A room, small but cozy. Mattress on the ground, a ton of blankets and pillows on it. A wooden crate next to it. A glass bottle of water and a stack of books on the crate. Cloths hanging from the ceiling, turning the room into its own whimsy little refuge.

You grab a nightdress and show it to her. She shakes her head.

"I'm good", she assures you. You nod. "You're really not going to sleep?"

"No", you say, straightening back up. "Told you why. Sorry."

Natasha bites the inside of her cheek. 'Lost Boys don't sleep. Like the stars.' And now you're acting like that's a perfectly valid explanation. Like they wouldn't tell you to go see a shrink where she comes from.

Where you come from, too. You belong in this world now, but she's suddenly struck with the realization that you once belonged in her world as well.

Natasha stares at you. You're already back to doing what you do best — inspect random stuff, play with your gloves, just stand there and wait until she does something. You're antsy, like you're silently impatient but trying your best not to voice it.

Why aren't you in my world?, she thinks. Why did I lose you?

You turn back around and catch her staring. Head tilted in silent question, you take one deliberate step closer. She stiffens, but doesn't back away. There has to be a reason why you're so familiar. Why she's gone all this way with you. Why she's stuck in some place that feels like someone managed to intertwine reality with dreams.

She swallows and moves to sit down. You stay where you are, arms crossing.

"Comfy?"

"As comfortable as a mattress on the floor can be."

A lie. It is comfortable. Way too comfortable. She lays down and her head lolls to the side, just so she can keep looking at you.

"Night, Red", you say.

"Night."

You step out the door. You start to close it. Natasha sees your figure flicker again, and she pops up into a sitting position.

"Wait."

You turn back around. The flickering stops, your outline becomes sharp and tangible again, your eyes carry that same warmth. You nod.

"I'm not going anywhere", you promise. "Not yet."

Oh, the last two words hurt. She stays seated, her eyes pleading. You hesitate, then walk back to the mattress.

You crouch down. You look at her, closely this time. You decide that maybe staying away isn't worth it and sit down. The feeling is unusual, a little foreign even.

It's been a while since you slept next to her, after all.

. . .

Cold hands intertwine. Wooden floorboards under bare feet. Wind tousling your hair.

A pirate ship. The sea is wild, tossing its wave into the sky like arms of silver and foam. Moonlight flickers across the waves as they leap and crash, and the ship rocks with the water's movement.

Natasha doesn't remember falling asleep, nor waking back up. She doesn't remember getting here, either. She doesn't remember ever leaving the treehouse. All she remembers is your body next to hers.

At least that hasn't changed. You're still next to her, one hand holding hers and the other on the railing of the ship. Water gurgles and splashes, the sea roaring and rattling the ship. She feels her balance slip.

"We're going to fall", she warns, gripping your hand tighter. The woolen gloves are scratchy, but she's gotten used to them. They're warm, at least. Warmer than your fingertips.

"We can't fall", you reply promptly.

She doesn't say anything. The look on her face is enough — unimpressed, deadpan, doubting. You lean in and tap her nose. She shakes her head.

"I'm serious."

"So am I."

"But..." She hesitates. Memories come rushing back. Memories of being aloft, high up in the sky, nothing but sheer willpower carrying you. Or magic. Or both.

You squeeze her hand.

"We don't have to stay here", you say. You step in front of her, still holding her hand. "I have other things I want you to see. So you'll remember."

Natasha frowns, her heart starting to beat faster. "Remember?"

No answer comes. You fade away, just like that, slipping from her grasp. Shaky hands try to hold onto you, but it's useless.

And then, the world turns. Suddenly, Natasha's back in her room. Linen bedsheets, the humming of the building, wind wafting in through the open window. Still going through an existential crisis, she sits up.

There you are again, sitting on her windowsill. One leg is dangling from the ledge, the other is propped up on it. Hair mussed by wind, no shoes and shins covered in scratches. You give her a lazy wave.

For a second, all she can do is stare. Her heart leaps the same moment she leaps up from the bed. She ignores the coldness of the wooden floor, the way she shivers, how her eyes search your face frantically. She's close again, close once more, close to the person she almost knew and almost lost.

Slender fingers cup your face. Your skin feels both warm and cold. She looks you in the eyes and swallows. You gently grab her wrist.

"Not gonna say-"

"Hi", she mumbles, before leaning in and pressing her lips to yours. You let out a soft noise, then kiss her back.

Natasha tastes a million things at once when she kisses you, but she can't pinpoint any of them. All she can do is deepen the kiss, further and further, climbing onto the narrow windowsill with you and kneeling between your legs.

You wrap your arms around her waist. Your hand rests on the small of her back. The surface you're on disappears, and you're lifting into the air and kissing.

She pulls away, out of breath. You're still in her room, but you're floating. You're holding her tight, but something about it feels unsteady.

"Why'd you leave?", she asks once she can breathe again. You smile, lips briefly lingering on her cheek.

"Oh, Red. Don't you know? I never leave."

Natasha shakes her head. Her hands stay on your face, pulling you in, and you feel plush warm lips against yours once more. Her hands roam your arms, your shoulders, quietly testing reality.

You feel firm. You feel warm. Her heart beats faster and faster.

"What happened?", she asks, breathless, once she's pulled away again. "Don't make something up. Tell me the truth."

You blink at her. Your bodies, still pressed together, sink back down onto the ledge. She rests her weight on your chest.

"I didn't make anything up."

"That's not what I'm talking about, and you know it. Where were we, Y/N?"

"Neverland", you say, as if that's a reasonable answer that doesn't leave her with any questions. "I told you."

Natasha stares at you, then swallows. Getting you to say anything that even remotely makes sense seems impossible. It's like trying to make sense of a dream you've already forgotten. It's all a blur, hard to grasp and even harder to keep.

She remembers being a child, back in Ohio. She went to a lake with her sister. They tried to catch the little fishes there, but they kept slipping. This doesn't feel too different.

"I'll never know, huh."

"You already know", you insist. "Try harder."

Natasha looks at you, heart heavy. She's not falling in love, no. It takes a while for that to happen, no matter how whimsy and lovely the person may be. It takes months, years, for her to feel something like that.

No, she's not falling in love. She is in love.

And Natasha can't love someone she doesn't know.

"You're giving me nothing to work with."

"I'm giving you everything", you reply.

Natasha exhales shakily. You feel real. The anxiety creeping up on her feels real. So why does everything else around her feel fake?

She's never going to catch the fishes, she fears. They'll keep slipping. She's doomed to lose sight of them every time.

"I don't want everything", she says, losing her patience. Time is running from her. She can feel it like water between her fingers. "I want the truth. I want to know who you are. Why you came here, and where we went, and-"

You tilt your head, leaning it against the cold window. You look so genuinely confused that it aches.

"You know who I am."

"No, I don't", she says firmly, sitting up. You reach for her, but she stops you. The more she lets herself feel, the more it'll hurt. It already hurts. She can't fathom the sheer pain you'd be able to cause her if you wanted to. "You appeared in my room, just like that. At night. Through the window. It's not normal."

"You can't question it", you warn quietly.

"I can't?" Natasha swallows, her jaw clenching and unclenching. "And why not, huh? Because the fucking stars will fall asleep?"

Your face falls. She regrets every word, yet doesn't take them back.

You shift, then get up. You're standing on the windowsill, looking at her, one gloved hand pressed to the wall behind you.

"I need you to act like a grownup", she says, standing up as well.

"I am one."

"You're not acting like one!"

"That was taken from me", you say.

Natasha shakes her head. It doesn't make sense. To her, it doesn't. Because she isn't considering the full truth. Because the full truth hurts. Because the full truth almost killed her once.

Wind blows into the room. Freckles in your eyes, delicate like specks of dust, and a face that should be as familiar as the night sky. Magic and stars, surrounding you. Life and death, making up one person.

Life and death have always been lovers, after all. They walk hand in hand.

Then, your hand grabs hers. Your fingertips feel cold against her warm skin.

"I need to know", she says, her voice dropping to a defeated tone. "It's not fair that I don't."

"I'm trying to protect you, Red." You step closer. She looks at you, trusting and confused and terrified and in love. "Don't question it. Please. I don't want to see you suffer again."

"I'm suffering right now. Don't you understand?", she hisses. "You're keeping secrets from me."

"Secrets make up the entire universe", you say, gesturing at the star-dappled sky outside.

She wants to push you out of the window, because she should've expected that answer. It would be useless, though. It's been established that you can fly.

All she can do is stare. You stare back at her. Your hand moves so you can link your fingers with hers.

One more trip, is what you're trying to say. Then you will have to let me go.

You jump. Falling is freeing.

. . .

This isn't Neverland. Natasha isn't sure what it is, but it's not that little place of magic you brought her to before.

This is dark. Quiet, but in an eerie way. No moonlight, no wind, no Lost Boys. Even the stars, usually twinkling bright and happy, are gone. Asleep, as you'd say. But you also said the stars can't fall asleep, didn't you?

You're staring at what's in front of you. Your precious island, once a refuge of magic and whimsy, now dying and suffering.

"No", you whisper. "No, no, no."

Natasha blinks, worrying. "What happened?"

"I told you not to question it."

She frowns, glancing at you. Guilt settles in her stomach. She went against what you asked her to do — for good reason, but now, everything you loved seems to be decaying.

Most of the damage is done. She can only count a handful of remaining flowers, and their petals are wilting already. The grass, once thick and luscious, is shrinking. Time is running away.

Again.

"We can fix this", Natasha says, the quiet desperation in her voice evident. "Just tell me how."

"No." You shake your head and crouch down, carefully touching a flower. It turns into dust beneath your touch, crumbling and disappearing. "No, we can't. It's over."

Her heart thuds and she walks to your side. Messy strands of hair feel soft and silky between her fingers.

How long has it been since she had you like this? How long has it been since she remembered?

Too long. She rests her fingertips against your scalp. You stay frozen in place, staring at the one thing that granted you infinity.

"What's going to happen?"

"What always happens when something ends. It doesn't last. It doesn't continue."

Natasha stares at the dying flowers. Her fingertips move over your scalp, gently, trying to soothe you without really being aware of it. Her fingers move mindlessly.

That's not an answer, she wants to say. Her stubbornness surrounding answers is what got you into this situation, though.

"Where are the Lost Boys?"

"I failed them", you say quietly, your head in your hands now. Natasha's heart skips a beat. "I promised I'd protect them."

"Y/N", she says, her hand resting on your head, unmoving now. "Where are they?"

The words that come are defeated and full of certainty. She wishes she never asked.

"Where I'll go, too."

Everything around her begins to spin. Her hand, once resting on your head, seems to suddenly phase through you. Your outline blurs, weakens, turns into something like fog. Warmth lingers where your body heat once was, but where are you?

She panics, moves her hand once more, and her fingers brush against your cheek. It's rosy and full of life, hot blood pumping through veins and air filling your lungs. You look up, and she realizes she's been reacquainting herself with the look in your eyes.

It wasn’t unfamiliar before it suddenly was. Now, it’s back to familiar and she fears she's about to lose it once more. This time, it'll be final.

You're back. She doesn't know how long it'll last, but you're not a heap of smoke anymore. You're solid, real, and she doesn't know how to stop you from fading again.

"I don't understand", she says quietly, the frustration clear in her voice. "How are you doing this?"

"It's not me who's doing this", you say, tired and defeated. Her face drops. "It's you."

Neverland crumbles. The place is ripped from your hands.

. . .

Natasha wakes up in her bedroom.

Linen sheets, a nightlight, a figure on her windowsill. She stays rooted in place, breath held, fingers curling into the blanket she's covered with. You lift one gloved hand.

She swallows. She's still feeling that ache in her chest, but it's been soothed. A temporary relief, one that'll fade and disappear just like everything else, but she'd take temporary over nothing at all.

"Not gonna say hi?", she mumbles. She doesn't dare to get up. If she does, she might ruin it again. The illusion might pop like a bubble, slip away like a fish.

Good thing you're different. You don't believe in illusions. To you, they don't exist.

You smile and jump up, walking to her bed. "That's my line", you mumble, sitting cross-legged on the edge of her bed. You reach out and smooth your hand over the linen sheets.

"Can't have you do all the work, can I?"

"I suppose not." You drum your fingers against where her stomach should be, then trail them upwards until you reach her chin. "Don't feel bad, Red."

Natasha hesitates. She feels your hand on her face, warm and grounding, and covers it with her own.

Then you lean in. You kiss her. It feels real enough to, even if just for a second, make her believe that this is real. That she didn't create you out of scraps and memories, out of pictures in frames and dreams manifested in reality.

That she didn't assemble this moment using lingering scents and a desperate, childlike kind of hope. That she didn't keep your gloves hidden in her drawer, that she didn't leave your shoes where you put them right before she'd see you for the last time.

That her mind, ridden with grief, didn't feel the need to invent another version of you. One that wouldn't grow up, not really, because what can't grow up can't die. This version of you, existing in a place with everyone else she's lost, who doesn't need to worry anymore.

Somewhere safe, and quiet, and as out of this world as you seemed to be. It was fitting. It still is.

Natasha deepens the kiss, prolongs it, as if its duration might impact the amount of time she has left with you. But you're on borrowed time, and she's bound to lose you eventually.

You pull away first. She sees you flicker and immediately knows it's coming to a close.

"Don't do this", she pleads.

"I'll be fine, and so will you." Your hand grabs hers, and you nod at the window. "Let me help you fly. One more time."

One last time. Natasha feels her eyes burn with unshed tears. She stares at your lap, exhaling slowly. You bring her hand up to your lips and kiss each knuckle.

You get up. She follows without thinking. It's instinct, carved into her brain years ago and never fading away. It's trust, pure as can be, and the silent hope that you might be wrong this time.

That she won't fly. That you'll end up in Neverland together.

You step onto the windowsill and look at her. She hesitates, then steps closer. It's the final kiss before the curtain closes, and she pours every last unscathed part of her into it.

Still kissing her, you take the leap.

. . .

This time, she doesn't have to open her eyes. She doesn't have to check.

She feels the wind, and the sunshine on her face, warming her like a little gift from someone dear to her heart. She feels her linen bedsheets, and smells the perfume she sprays on it before going to sleep.

She hears the voices downstairs — Steve, Tony, Bruce — as they talk and bicker. She smells coffee, freshly brewed, and the absurd amounts of bacon the guys consume in the morning.

She feels the lack of someone else in her room. Her breath is the only sound, aside from the traffic noises outside.

Her hand stretches out, fingertips grazing against something. She dares open her eyes and sees a pair of fingerless gloves, made of that itchy wool she both loves and despises. She draws circles on one of them, then picks them up and slips them on. Flexing her fingers and curling them again, she stares at the material.

Natasha glances at her bedside table, and the picture sitting on it. She sees the person in the picture, the face she kissed endless times. The hair she sometimes cut herself, whenever you weren't in the mood to go to the hairdresser.

You do it better, anyway. Makes me look all rugged, you know.

She never complained. She knew it'd look far from perfect, but it somehow always worked.

Again, Natasha doesn't need to look up to know. She feels it in her bones, heavy and unmoving, trying to keep her trapped in bed. She checks, anyway. Just to be sure.

An empty windowsill shouldn't hurt this much.

The stars are asleep, and there's nothing she can do about it.

[star-lights-up]

okay but hear me out: cherik the office au.

No, they're not pam and jim..... they're holly and michael.

Sorta.

Erik is the super strict, terrifying, robotic boss of dunder mifflin's scranton branch. he's lonely, has no family, begrudgingly loves his branch but would never admit it (but puts up with their antics). Only a core group has really managed to stay on, but that's because anyone who's not used to him usually ends up quitting or getting fired because he's so scary and inhuman. But corporate keeps the branch open because SOMEHOW they're the most productive branch despite erik likely being some kind of killer robot or shark-human hybrid and the entire office getting into crazy shenanigans (one time Sean, one of their accounts, got pushed off the roof into a bouncy house. he was mostly fine).

Erik HATES the HR attendant, Logan. HATES HIM hates him. So when Logan goes on paternity leave after discovering he's got a daughter, Erik expects to hate the new HR guy just as much.

Instead, he's this funny, sexy british guy who laughs at Erik's lame attempts to be funny around him (he never tries to be funny, he's not sure what's come over him) and is always kind and understanding and pretty damn good at getting office spats to fizzle out. He looks great in a suit and has a big smile and big blue eyes and damn it if erik isn't down bad the moment they first talk to each other.

With some gradual prompting from his subordinates, Erik eventually asks him out. Charles smirks, saying he was wondering when Erik was going to finally do so, and they plan on dinner that night.

then the next night, too. and the night after that, and that, until every moment they're not together is just... well... agony.

Erik's a lot happier after they start dating. The office is a lighter space. he even makes jokes sometimes. Everyone's amazed -- and wondering why the actual fuck someone as charming and handsome as charles would want to date erik (the answer to this question, asked, at one point, by Hank, was a smirk and "have you SEEN him?" which wasn't really the answer anyone was looking for -- though when erik wasn't frowning and wasn't smiling that creepy shark smile of his, he could maybe be considered attractive. Maybe. Charles sure seemed to think so, if the blatant, borderline disgusting PDA was any indication.)

Eventually, however, it is time for logan to return, and Charles is relocated. Erik becomes insufferable again, the long distance weighing on his heart. Everyone pretty much thinks that's going to be the end of the relationship, whether now or in a few week's time, but then Emma catches Erik sitting on the floor in the corner of his office having a pretty serious mental breakdown over hoping Charles will still love him even though they're so far away, and it's clear that something has to be done. He's fucking depressed.

Something of an intervention is staged. It's very unwelcome on erik's part, the man yelling at them at first, but then eventually he's somber (nearly on the verge of TEARS. AGAIN. the office members quietly question their sanity, wondering if the universe has actually come to an end for Erik Lehnsherr to be acting like this, while carrying on trying to convince him that he needs to focus on his own happiness.) He's worked at this company for so long. He's been alone for so long. He's got savings.

It wouldn't kill him to make a leap for love and move to be with Charles. It may actually save him.

Eventually he actually ends up doing it. Erik Lehnsherr quits his job and moves away to be with the love of his life. Charles writes a thank-you note to the office. He seems ecstatic to have Erik back. the office feels a little bit emptier, strangely, as everyone realizes they might just miss their old boss. But Emma's good at what she does, good in Erik's position.

They all get wedding invites a year and a half later. They see Erik Lehnsherr cry again, in his ceremony, right before he says "i do." And after that, he's not so alone anymore.

[colorfulrook]

The 100 x 100 Celebration!

I can't believe that I managed to reach 100 after so little time, my dear readers, thank you so much for all of your support and for granting me the privilege to work on your ideas 😭💖

Whether you’ve been here since post #1 or just stumbled in recently — THANK YOU SO MUCH.

And so as a tiny celebration (and a huge thank you), I’ve cooked up a 100 sentence prompt list that you can use to request drabbles! You can pick your sentence—Even two if you desire— the charcacters and request it with your idea or just a genre (AUs as well).

Do not worry if you saw the same sentence on another blurb, I will gladly create something new everytime!.

Here’s to more stories, more screaming in the tags, and more late-night inspiration. I love you all, truly! - Rook

“You have something on your face… let me get it.”

“You talk in your sleep. It’s adorable.”

“I can’t believe you stayed up to wait for me.”

“I made your favorite.”

“Scoot over, you’re hogging the blanket.”

“They’re staring because you look amazing.”

“Are you pouting? That’s so cute.”

“You did all of this… for me?”

“Can I braid your hair?”

“I love it when you wear my clothes.”

“Dance with me. No music needed.”

“You’re my favorite notification.”

“Let’s just stay in bed today.”

“Your laugh is my favorite sound.”

“You smell like comfort.”

“This is our song.”

“I can't stop smiling when I'm with you.”

“You make me feel like the luckiest person alive.”

“You always warm your hands before holding mine.”

“I never believed in soulmates until you.”

“I’ve got a surprise for you.”

“I want to wake up like this every day.”

“You fell asleep on me again.”

“You make everything better.”

“I can’t stop kissing you. Is that a problem?”

“Do you wanna build a pillow fort?”

“I love how you say my name.”

“Let’s grow old together.”

“You're glowing when you're happy.”

“You’re the best part of my day.”

“You remembered the tiniest detail.”

“I can’t believe I get to love you.”

“You gave me butterflies. Still do.”

“You’re stuck with me forever now.”

“This is your home, always.”

“Is that a love letter?”

“Just five more minutes.”

“You’re the reason I believe in good things.”

“I could stare at you forever.”

“Being with you feels like a dream I don’t want to wake up from."

“You don’t love me anymore, do you?”

“Say it. Say you don’t need me.”

“Don’t lie to me.”

“You weren’t supposed to hear that.”

“I wish things were different.”

“We promised we’d always find each other.”

“I’m tired of pretending I’m okay.”

“If I tell you the truth, you’ll leave.”

“Don’t make me choose.”

“Why do you keep hurting me?”

“You said you’d never leave.”

“This wasn’t how it was supposed to end.”

“You forgot me. Again.”

“I was never enough for you, was I?”

“I’m not the same person anymore.”

“You were the best thing I never had.”

“Stop acting like you care.”

“Don’t say sorry. Not now.”

“I knew I shouldn’t have trusted you.”

“This silence is louder than any scream.”

“You can’t fix this.”

“What hurts the most… is that you didn’t fight for me.”

“I gave you everything. And it still wasn’t enough.”

“I should’ve let you go a long time ago.”

“Why does it still hurt?”

“You made me believe in something that wasn’t real.”

“You forgot our anniversary.”

“How long have you been lying to me?”

“You left. Don’t act like you didn’t.”

“It’s too late.”

“I wish I hated you.”

“You were my home. And now I’m lost.”

“Was I just a game to you?”

“This isn’t love anymore.”

“I never wanted to say goodbye.”

“You’re still in my dreams.”

“I waited for you. Every day.”

“You broke me and walked away.”

“Tell me it meant something. Even if you have to lie.”

“I loved you. That was my mistake.”

“Say that again, slower.”

“Is that a challenge?”

“You have no idea what you do to me.”

“I could kiss you for hours.”

“Do you have any idea how good you look right now?”

“If you keep looking at me like that, I won’t be able to stop.”

“Try to stay quiet.”

“You’re playing with fire.”

“Do that again.”

“I like it when you say my name like that.”

“Tell me what you want.”

“You should see the way you look right now.”

“You’re mine. Say it.”

“I’ve been thinking about this all day.”

“Don’t tempt me.”

“You’re not going anywhere tonight.”

“Close the door. Now.”

“Make me.”

“You’re blushing again. Cute.”

“One more kiss and I’ll behave… maybe.”

[winteringdream]

005. library ban

previous | masterlist | next

synopsis : you first meet maki when he sits next to you during a lab practical. despite your best efforts, though, it feels like no matter how hard you try, you can never seem to have any other classes scheduled with him. so, you decide to take matters into your own hands.

YOU IMMEDIATELY FIND A PLACE TO SIT THE MOMENT YOU STEP INTO THE LIBRARY. Isn't it supposed to be a little busier you think to yourself as you put down your bag. You had hoped for it to be so busy that there were no empty spots, forcing you to go back to your dorm.

As you open your laptop to find the book you were you look around to see if there are any familiar faces. To your dismay, there's almost no one.

Usually your library sessions are filled with laughter and food, it's one of the first times you're here to actually study.

"Enzyme Kinetics: Behavior and Analysis of Rapid Equilibrium and Steady-State Enzyme Systems by Irwin H. Segel. Sounds like hell." you murmur to yourself as you stand up to look for it.

As you walk through the quiet aisles of the library, the silence feels almost unnatural. The faint scent of old books and the soft rustling of pages are the only sounds around you.

You stop at the aisle labeled "biology & chemistry: enzymes". This must be it.

"Why do I even need to understand enzyme equilibrium?" you mutter under your breath, rolling your eyes. "Why can't enzymes just do their thing and leave me out of it?"

With a sigh, you spot the book, its thick spine sticking out from the other volumes. It's positioned on the top shelf, and usually you'd have no problem with taking it out. Except for the fact that this specific book weighs a ton.

With a little grunt of frustration, you give the book a more forceful tug. But as soon as you do, the book slides out of place, and before you can react, it's falling off the shelf, heading straight toward you.

You barely have time to flinch as it starts to fall.

You hear the thud of the book, but nothing seems to hit you. You carefully open your eyes to see him. Maki facing you, his back turned to the shelves.

"Whoa, that was close." he exclaims, looking down at the book. Had it hit him instead of you?

You blink up at him, wide-eyed. "Are you okay? Did it hit you?" You're too shocked to process that the guy you've been looking for is standing right in front of you.

"Yeah, it's fine. Are you hurt?" Maki asks. He's nervous, here you are, the girl he was trying to find for the longest time. But now that he's standing in front of you nothing comes out of his mouth.

"It would be an excuse to not study if I got knocked out by a textbook." you joke, crouching down to pick it up.

"Enzyme kinetics, sounds interesting." Maki comments, scratching the back of his neck. He mentally scolds himself for how awkward he sounds.

"Maybe, if it didn't try to kill me." you sigh, readjusting the heavy book in your arms.

Say something Maki mentally screams at himself. There’s a brief silence, and you shift on your feet, obviously uncomfortable as you hold the massive textbook.

But before he can say something, the fire alarm goes off.

The loud, shrill sound slices through the air, causing both of you to jump. Students around you start scrambling, grabbing their things, but neither of you seems sure what to do.

You glance at Maki, eyebrows furrowing. “Is this... is this a drill?”

Maki stares at the ceiling for a second, clearly just as caught off guard as you. “Uh... yeah, probably?"

You shake your head, the noise of the alarm ringing in your ears. “I should go get my stuff.”

“Yeah...” Maki trails off, suddenly unsure of whether to make light of the situation or not. “I also need to get my stuff.”

Maki glances back at you, his face turning a bit red as he stammers out, “Maybe, uh, we’ll... uh, see each other again? When the alarm’s not going off?” He laughs nervously, as if that’s going to make things less awkward.

Before you get to say something the librarian shouts at the two of you to move, pushing the two you by the shoulder to the exit.

taglist: @leloyo @stormy1408 @missychief1404 @banez @ihruaz @saranghoeforanton @jakeyuni @leloyo @fae-renjun @strayy-kidz @blooqz @kimakento @1ckyw1ckyyyyy @pookalicious-hq @ihruaz @sqrclouds @littleaprilcherryblossom @jsbluu @yumengnyangnyang @injunnie-lemon @lakoya @lleuviennae @nicholasluvbot @addictedtoboba @starrihan @cinnased @mushroomsoup119 @lavendersloane @lulumallow @meoriapeuda99 @conwunder @lhs01nye @haruabf @smiles4hyuck @iarainha @cowsidfk @tlnyjoong

[thedenofravenpuff]

Random question time.

What is a ship in the tsams/tsbs fandom that surprised you (in a good way!)

NOT a favourite, per se. But surprising

You gained a appreciation of it, because of a fic or a artwork or because mutals talk about them passionately

Or something like that.

Honestly?

Sunny and Roxas on Femme Nights At Freddy's.

Purely because here's a Sun who finally seems to canonically get to have a functional relationship with someone who cares about her.

A bit of a running gag that every Sun in every dimension, starts out their life crushing on Roxanne or whatever versions exist in her place. And it rarely goes well in any of those dimensions.

Sun Prime crushing on Roxanne, getting to go on a few dates, until Eclipse intervened. Roxanne only with Sun to feed her ego from his constant praise, and then never even consider him again even once, after the whole maternity chip thing was fixed. Sun was VERY bitter for a LONG time.

MASM Sun crushing on Roxanne and Foxy both until Foxy became too abusive and became a rival for Roxanne's attention. And even if Roxanne admitted her feelings for Sun a few times, she always took it back to not commit to anything. Not to mention everything else going down in that universe when it comes to romance XDD

Sunpea from EAPS crushing on Glamrock Foxy, getting obsessive, not to mention confused by the existence of TWO of them, and then just move on. Foxy gone, Captain hiding somewhere cuz they can't decide what to do with his voice and/or his character all together.

And in the end, all them Suns just end up single, whether they want to or not. Granted their first choice in crushes ain't always looking the best, mostly played for laughs.

And then we have Sunny and Roxas on FFNAF.

Finally a Sun whose feelings get respected and returned. Sure Roxas needed some growing and a few threats from the others to not break her heart - but so far is the best looking canon Sun relationship we have seen on any of the shows (not counting Svend's mention of his Sun whom we never see, nor that simulation of 'if Sun had a wife' that we never saw, and MASM was just chaotic for the lulz)

Seeing Roxas taking up the responsibility to grow in character and treat Sunny right, seeing her as an actual partner and not just a star struck groupie feeding his ego - it makes for a good character arc and a good story. And Sunny is happy.

So yeah, congrats to Sunny for breaking the Sun Lovelife Curse that runs through dimensions. And may her processors have the strength to keep handle her overheating from every time she gets complimented by her new official boyfriend.

Sometimes is just nice to see nice things happen to the characters in these shows.

[hancfubuki]

perhaps he pushed him too hard. caleb realizes that he messed up by showing sides of himself that were meant to be kept as a secret. the atmosphere between feels like it cracked, heavy with tension because of his sudden shift. his mind feels like a battlefield of contradictions, and he feels the click coming, as it always did, stripping him away from rafayel's warmth and kindness, because he seems to forbid himself from getting affection, unconsciously. something deep inside twists him into something colder, something sharper, something he despised. and as he lays pinned beneath rafayel, legs splayed in a position that made his breath catch, that makes him feel so vulnerable and humiliates, the realization begins to seep in. the lemurian simply looms over him, a predator poised with intent, his voice like a velvet blade that sliced through caleb's defenses with precision. sally, his hands are steady and commanding, but right now? they are clench at the sheets beneath him, unsure whether to fight back or surrender.

it's not fear what he feels, it's the gnawing ache of recognition of knowing that the shift inside him is not just some fleeting impulse. ah.. the implant is humming faintly, feeding the darker edge of his thoughts, nudging him towards control and domination, the insidious desire to command everything and everyone around him. because control is safety and vulnerability is weakness. even though he reacts to the sharp dig on his leg, a grunt leaving his lips after being maneuvering so easy, he can tell rafayel grip is not necessarily cruel but firm. it feels like these actions are forcing him to confront that part of himself that sought dominance at all costs. this grip is not only physical but emotional as well, how easily the lemurian could turn the tables on him.

he even numbs the other's actions, being unable to feel any touch as rafayel continues to speak. it feels like a reprimand, and he couldn't help but lower his head as he allows the other to do whatever he wants to him. maybe he simply is not fit for rafayel, and his initial sense of self-consciousness surfaces to cloud his brain again. he will never be enough, for rafayel or anyone, as long as this... thing, lives inside of him. yet, he cannot bring himself to talk about it, to speak the truth and explain the reason behind his sudden shifts. why feeling so vulnerable forces him to act up like this. he cannot talk about it, he cannot even mention it, as he doesn't even know where it lays.

“you might get off on being hurt or controlled, but i’m not in the mood for it.”

the words sting more than caleb would have wanted them to, becase they are not just a rejection of his actions, but a mirror that holds up to the part of himself he didn't want to face. the part that wasn’t the charming and kind captain, the daring leader. it was the part of him shaped by the implant, by the years of being honed into a weapon, by the relentless demand for perfection that had stripped away his ability to just be. he swallows hard, his throat tight as he stares up at rafayel, whose hands now let his legs rest, waiting. his final words echo in his mind, realizing that one more false move and he could lose whatever this is, forever.

nicely... the thought almost made caleb laugh bitterly, trembling in silence. how long had it been since someone had asked him to do anything nicely? anyone had expected something soft from him, everyone expected obedience and brute force. his chest tightens, nsre if he ever could do something nicely.

"i..." his voice comes out rough, and he clears his throat as he speaks, hesitant, as if the words themselves were fighting him. his gaze changes again, more softer, even watery. some sort of plea, remembering his own words to break him gently. this is a situation he caused by himself, and he knows playing victim won't work as rafayel is just following his requests. yet it makes him regret it, as he does want to be treated nicely, sweetly, tenderly. he wants to be took care of in the same way he does to others. so why is it so hard not to sabotage himself? he blushes softly, looking away from rafayel, fixing his gaze on a shadowed corner of the room. 'i don't want to be like this.' he wants to say, yet the words don't seem to come through, in fact, he is not able to say it out loud because that would lead to more questions he doesn't wish to answer right now. he feels his breathing steading little by little, ignoring the whisper of control that is starting to fade away.

"i'm sorry." he says, barely above a whisper. his hands, unclenched from the sheets, trembling as they move to rest lightly on the other's arms, caressing them softly, wanting to feel something else, different from the internal struggle he currently has. "i'm terrified of losing control, of letting myself want too much and being left with nothing." perhaps he should go, stand up, leave everything behind for once. buut that mean running away instead of facing his own head. "please... continue." it's not an order, nor a demand. it is a plea, fragile and human, the most vulnerable that caleb has allowed himself to be in years.

It always comes abruptly. Like there's something in Caleb's head that clicks into place at moments that causes him to act up, act differently, act out of the bounds that Rafayel had started to learn of. The frustration he had anticipated, and if he were honest-- he had planned for. He couldn't help tease and annoy him to see his reaction, but for the most part, he had truly meant to worship him to the best of his abilities. The Lemurian watched as his wrist was held tight, didn't fight back as his waist was grabbed and the world spun before he was pinned down onto his bed. His back arched from the grip, and the air was knocked out of him. The subdued, adorable Caleb that he had teased was no longer there, replaced by the version of him more similar to when he had tried to make Rafayel plead and beg, that sharp light in his eyes that demanded obedience.

The Lemurian lays still, eyes blinking slowly as the other towers over him now, the soft rustle of sheets next to his ears loud in the silence as his hands come to rest on either side of his head. A dark, intimidating figure, he's sure. Blue and pink irises shine as his eyes are opened wide, beady and surprised. But he can't bring himself to feel the pressure his enemies must have under his gaze, not as much as a normal human might have been at being pinned by a man this tall and large, powerful with magic that could control your bodily movements or more as they pleased. What was once a tender mood of worship and affection suddenly switches into tension, a challenge in the other's eyes as he gets close. Rafayel breathes a lung full of air, lashes trembling as fingertips glide over his sensitive neck. Caleb was taking advantage of it, he's sure, how his touch over his scales makes his whole body shiver with delight, gaze lowered and a wry smile paints his lips. The Lemurian doesn't speak, lets Caleb continue his mouthful of demands till he's done, his breath warm against his lips, against the shell of his ear. Rafayel reaches for the other's legs, holding his thighs as he had before as if finding an anchor, smoothing his hand down the underside of it till he reaches the back of his knees.

"I haven't gone against my word."

His grip tightens with inhuman strength, tugging Caleb towards him and using that momentum to raise himself up. The pull turns into a push and he shoves Caleb onto his back, now back on his knees as he's towered over the man, eyes shadowed by his bangs. Rafayel has either leg held by the back of his knees, bends and pushes as far as the captain's flexibility would allow and a bit more, shoving him into the precarious position that's sure to have him blush or conflicted. Unhurried, the Lemurian puts his weight down even more, his grip bruising as he keeps the man still, shoving him as far into the mattress as physically possible to keep him trapped. When the younger lifts his head, Caleb gets an eyeful as his expression changes from tender adoration to indignation. "You have some unwarranted accusations there, Captain." Dark red swirls in his eyes as his gaze moves from the other's face and down low to where his hips are lifted off the mattress, knees pushed so far up he might as well have them to his chest, maybe with a bit more force and training his flexibility, he could get them up to his ears. "I said I would like to kiss and touch you everywhere, show you my worship. Is that not what I have done until you rudely interrupted me? Unlike you, who said you would follow my pace yet flipped me over so crudely." The man throws an accusatory glare, an invisible force keeping Caleb's left leg locked where it hands in the air as he digs his thumb into his thigh, running a bruising line down the middle exposed to him, until he's reached the swell of flesh.

"You call me spoiled, but your impatience and demands speak otherwise. Feel threatened that you can't order me around like your men, Captain?" A dangerous, dark little laugh passes the Lemurian's lips, his thumb where it circled the edges of the swell now going further down, dipping into where he feels heat. "When I asked you nicely to turn around, I had planned to start again from the top," Rafayel whispers into his ear, forehead resting on the mattress as his thumb draws up and down with intention, any and all pleas ignored. "Kiss the specks of stars and run my hands down with my lips trailing after them, press my fingers in where your muscles are tense, massage you till you're weak and sighing breaths of pleasure at every touch." He bites his ear, leaving marks behind. "Then I would move my hands, crawl down while you're loose and vulnerable, and kiss the swell of your back, squeeze you tight," he does exactly that, large hands groping the soft mound before his thumb returns, this time circling his heat, the pressure of it forcing the muscle to loosen. "Just as you so easily assumed I would take you, I may let you take my fingers," he sighs softly when the tip of his finger catches at his entrance, an interlude to what could've been. "--watch you writhe as I curl deep inside your walls and pin you with the ocean's weight so you're forced to take it slow and steady till you're begging me to hurry. I would let you grind your hips, taking my fingers deeper or lend you my hand or even my mouth to thrust into if you begged me nice and sweet."

Then his hand stops, slipping away.

Rafayel sits back on his knees and lets the human's legs fall back down to the mattress messily. Back to square one, the same position they had before Caleb decided to be a brat. "I have no interest in commanding you of anything. You might get off on being hurt or controlled, but I'm not in the mood for it." He exhales, shaking his head. "You're free to use your power to get your way. If what I offer isn't something you enjoy, then push me off. But," he raises a hand to his lips, pretending to be deep in thought before his stern gaze peers down. "I will take them as a sign to stop completely." Disobey, and he would get nothing, left throbbing, frustrated and wanting. In contrast to the cruelty of his words, Rafayel puts a hand gently on his inner thigh and spreads it outward, leaning forward an inch. "What would you like me to do, sunset? Tell me in your words, nicely." He's not here to teach him basic manners. "May I continue, or would you like to test how serious I am?"

[b-writessometimes]

Yandere Nerdy Classmate OC x Reader

Warnings: Yandere/ dark content themes, body image issues, unhealthy obsession, creepy/ perverted behavior, implications of stalking. References to suicidal thoughts and smut below but not overtly explicit. Not a condonement of these IRL activities. Read at your own discretion.

[word count: 1,030]

University seemed like a surefire way to start a new leaf.  To breeze past the humiliation of his years growing up as an awkward nerd and make something of himself. No more being jostled around at the school cafeteria, no more having his peers pick and laugh at him because of his weight and no more faculty doing absolutely nothing about the bullying going on right under their noses.

Unfortunately enough, the teasing didn't just stop at graduation.  It followed him like a damn leech that refused to perish no matter how many times one picked at it.

The only thing keeping the guy going was his lifelong dreams of someday becoming an author.  Though he's yet to share his stories to anyone outside his own grandmother.  

On most days he felt like quitting.  Of dropping out, disappearing off the face of the Earth one way or another.  His presence being reduced to no more than that of a mere ghost that roamed people's memory, if even granted that luxury.

And then he happened to meet you one day.

Infatuated.  No enthralled would be the right word that he would use to describe how he felt about you.

In all his odd twenty-two years of living, he's never experienced such an intense yearning for someone before.  Like a need rather than a simple want.

This is different from those puppy crushes he got back in school to those he became a nervous wreck around only to soon learn they all wanted nothing to do with the chubby loser in the back of class.

No, this was far different.  It began innocently enough as so many stories do.  Stolen glances and the mumbled 'hi' as you sat down next to him for each lecture. He couldn't help but to notice your preferred method of note taking, those little snacks you brought so often to class, and which foot you tended to favor when walking through the door. Just little things like that. 

His heart skips a beat when the two of you make eye contact, he pretends to focus on his paper and not the way he was staring at the slight furrow of your brow when you get all concentrated and in your head.  But by some miracle the two of you begin talking.  

Once short greetings then blossomed into lively conversations before and during class.  He knows a bit more about you now: your favorite music, what you grew up watching, how many other friends you had here on campus or back home.  He hates how insecure he feels when you bring them up.

You learn a bit about your new friend as well. He was raised mainly by his maternal grandmother and didn't have many friends growing up. Whether that past is relatable or not is up to you, but it's hard not to pity the guy.

Before you know it, finals week rolls up.  Since you both seem to be the only ones taking this class semi-seriously, you propose a study session in the comfort of your dorm room. Too tight on cash to head to any fancy cafés.

He can feel his mouth salivating at the very notion.  Of being able to breathe the same air that you did, to occupy the intimate space that you returned to each day.

His fingers are clammy when he's seated at your desk, seeing you seated in much more casual clothes with your legs propped up against your bed.  The pits of his shirt are now stained with sweat but he swears it's just nervousness from the upcoming exam.  You place a hand on his shoulder and reassure him he'll do fine, being one of the smartest people in your guys' class after all.

Oh how he wanted to fall to his knees right then and there and eat you out to thank you for giving him the time of day.  But alas he still had a functioning brain.  Such bold moves were strictly prohibited at the moment.  He was still a virgin after all and wanted your intimacy together to be special. 

And so, he goes for the second best alternative.

He sniffs your clothes when you aren't looking. With your laundry hamper being out in the open like that, he can't help but be opportunistic. The mix of your natural odor and sweat floods his system.  He shudders at the sensation.  If he could somehow transfer your scent over and pour it into a candle to keep for his own, he would do so in a heartbeat.  

He admires the lingering imprint of your body on the sheets, like how a person might admire a fine piece of art in a museum.

Your study session goes as planned.  You both pass the exam with flying colors. It was a great way to end the class, good scores all around and a new friend to boot.  He can't wait to see you next semester when he conveniently has a bunch of the same classes as you.  A neat little coincidence right?

Only after returning back to your dorm room, do you notice a few things absent from your possession.  Mainly that of a used lip balm and an old pair of socks.  You don't give it much thought. After all, little things like those wind up missing all the time.  No need to worry about it too much.  

Meanwhile, some mere 15 minutes away, he's licking the rim of your used lip balm and trying to cement the flavor profile to memory.  A hint of petroleum mixed with the sweetness of your saliva.  Absolutely intoxicating.  

He's alternating between palming your used socks against his crotch and inhaling your natural musk.  It makes it all too easy to lose himself completely.  Skin flush with sweat as he can only helplessly imagine how good you must feel if you smelt this damn good.

After his 'busy evening’, he finds himself under a lamp and furiously scribbling down into one of his spare notebooks.  The moment giving him just the inspiration he needs for a spare poem. 

Perhaps he'll use it in a novel of his, and dedicate it to you someday.

A/N;

Excited to finally share some original fiction of mine! I may/ may not reveal his name but for now he will be simply known as 'yandere nerd/ yandere classmate'. If you are curious to know more about him, feel free to send an ask my way. I love to yap about my OC's and flexing my creative writing muscles 👋

[sourinartt]

no way a silly sex joke has you all this worked up omg

excuses to make people feel bad for shipping two fictional characters

according to these people, making gay jokes encourages the sexualization of children and encourages minors to do the same, and I think I'm listening to a conservative, lol.

they're fucking annoying and hypocritical. Most of these people just want to be anti-sns and hate those who ship them. why? Because they don't say anything in cases of nh and ss sexualizing to the characters, ss spends his time talking about how much sakura and sasuke fucked on a mission, they make sexual jokes, nh is obsessed with sex and about how nh had two children, and we're not just talking about two adult characters, we're talking about them also having an obsession with naruto fucking hnt in 16 year old stages

So why is there nothing when ss and nh talk about sex with their characters? Oh, I remember, because they're straight and when it's straight, it doesn't matter.

when you are heterosexual, the sexualization of children, fetishes, etc. does not matter.

(I used nh as an example, but we already know what ss fans are like)

ss talks all the time about sakura/sasuke fucking in a forest but that's not sexualizing the characters, nh was obsessed for a while when Naruto/hnt fell into the other dimension, they talked about how they would have sex and make another uzumaki, but they didn't say anything there either

I have given adult examples, but I repeat, these people still think it is wrong to talk about Naruto/Sasuke fucking even in their adult stage because it is "fetish and sexualization".

I keep wondering why they don't talk about the sexualization of children when nh and ss make sexual fanart and include the children of these couples?

the fact is, in the spanish naruto fandom these types of jokes are common, they don't seek to sexualize children, they find it funny how naruto/sasuke begged each other and then acted heterosexual

naruto and sasuke are 17 years old specifically, whether they like it or not, teenagers fuck, experiment with their sexuality and tastes at this age. It is normal for a 17-year-old teenager whose hormones are constantly changing to experience, and will continue like this until reaching adulthood where a definition is sought, they are not children looking for candy.

and if it bothers you so much, what the hell are you doing watching naruto? You're watching teenagers constantly beating each other up. In your opinion, this doesn't encourage children to beat each other up?

I will continue laughing at them and their hypocrisy. It bothers them when it's sns, but not with their much-adored heterosexual partners.

Dudebros also don't have the right to complain when the pedophile jokes Kishimoto himself made make them laugh.

aren't they all children here? LMAOO

these guys are only bothered if there is talk of narusasu/sasunaru having a sexual or romantic relationship, whether speaking in their adult stage or in the normal stage, he has a serious obsession with their age.

all of this will always remind me of when someone said that queer people aren't allowed to talk about sex because it's disgusting, while straight people can and they even do it in front of others and it's okay because it's heteronormativity

to be honest, I would be more worried if they paired adult or teenage naruto with child sasuke or vice versa, but since they don't, so let SNS fans continue to be "nasty" to annoy the antis 💋