#let him argue and retort he has stuff to say

[giarossin]

mel [to viktor]: you're the professor's assistant jayce: NO, he's my partner

marcus: kiramman girl had a prisoner released on your order jayce: NO, we've got i covered viktor: you promised to destroy the hexcore jayce: NO,

[hhughes]

៹࣪ ៸៸ ALL OF THE SMALL THINGS THAT YOU DO . . . ꒱꒱

ᥫ 𝘩𝑒𝘢𝑑𝘤𝑎𝘯𝑜𝘯𝑠 small things they do that make you feel loved . . .

𝒇𝒆𝒂𝒕. quinn hughes ; jack hughes ; luke hughes ; nico hischier. 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒕. fluff. domesticity. 𝒙𝒐 𝒄𝒂𝒎𝒊. as always reblogs and feedback is appreciated and I hope you liked it <3

യ QUINN HUGHES

boyfriend quinn who stays over at your place more often than not. it’s easier for you to get ready for work since all your stuff is there, so whenever quinn gets a few days off he’ll always spend them at your place.

he started getting up earlier , sneaking out of bed before your alarm even goes off and for a while you were just wondering where he went before you caught him one day.

looking outside your kitchen window you saw quinn brushing the last bit of snow off your windshield and shovel it away from your car.

“ hey angel , you’re awake earlier than usual, ” quinn greets, shrugging off his jacket and taking off his boots as you start the coffee pot

“ yeah I was investigating where my boyfriend has been sneaking off to these last few weeks, “ you say, as shuffles his way over to you and wraps his arms around your waist; burrowing his cold nose into your neck

“ just getting last night’s snow out of your way, “ he mumbles against your skin, pressing kisses against your neck

“ you didn’t have to do that baby, but thank you. you’re spoiling me, i’m gonna get used to it and then miss it when you’re not here, “ you tease, and he uses his hands on your hips to spin you around, pushing you back against the counter

“ I was actually hoping you’d let me hire someone to do it for you, “ quinn suggests with a hopeful tone, knowing exactly how you were gonna respond to this.

“ quinn, don’t start, ” you absolutely hated when he spent unnecessary money on you.

“ I know I know, but it’s more for my peace of mind than it is for yours really. I hate the idea of you having to go out there the morning after a storm and move all that snow by yourself. not even just the snow, what about all the freezing rain we get? what if you slip and fall? hit your head? break your wrist, again? “ he emphasizes the last part and your send him a little glare in return. you slipped and broke your wrist one time and now the guy couldn’t let it go.

" everyone can slip and fall quinn, " you argue and he brings his hands up to cup your jaw on either side, rubbing his thumbs over your cheeks gently

" yeah , honey , but I don't care and worry about everyone, I care and worry about you. “ he retorts and you almost cave seeing the pure adoration he has for you reflected in those green eyes

“ I’ve lived in Vancouver my entire life. the weather is nothing new to me, I can handle it. but i’m guessing if I don’t agree to this you’re gonna keep sneaking out and doing it for me anyway?” you ask and release a little sigh when he nods in confirmation

the last thing you wanted to do was make your boyfriend get up at the crack of dawn, especially on days like today, his off days, just to clean the snow off your driveway and you knew he would if you didn’t agree to this.

“fine, but not all the time. only when we get really heavy snow okay? and no more sneaking out of bed. I miss my personal little furnace when you’re not there,” you pout and he smiles before pecking your lips softly, his hands moving to your lower back

“ that’s all i’m good for huh? shovelling your snow and warming you up? ” quinn teases, hands moving down even further and squeezing your butt as your hands make their way to his hair

“ you’re pretty good at washing my hair too. wanna join me in the shower? “ you mumble against quinn’s lips and he keeps the kiss going for a few seconds before pulling away and responding

“ you know I can never say no to that, “

യ NICO HISCHIER

bf!nico who shows you love by packing you lunch in the morning cause you’re always running late and you never grab something before you go.

he noticed it one night when the two of you were doing your nightly routine that consisted of him laying with his head on your stomach, your hands going through his hair as whatever movie you decided on was playing on the screen.

“sorry” you say sheepishly, your hand freezing in his hair when your stomach suddenly growled loudly and he glances up at you with an amused little grin

“you hungry baby?” he asks, pressing a few soft kisses to your stomach

“yeah , I haven’t eaten all day.” you accidentally let the words slip, and immediately wince after, knowing how your mother-hen boyfriend was going to react.

“you haven’t eaten all day?” nico asks exasperated , sitting up as he looks at you with a frown between his eyes, one of his hands finding its way to your stomach and rubbing soft circles as if he could sooth the hunger away

" that's not healthy schatz, " your boyfriend chastised softly, when you answer his question with a nod.

" I know, I was just running late this morning so I didn't have time to pack lunch. and I had a busy day so I couldn't run out and get something, but I'm gonna eat the entire day's worth of pasta when our dinner gets here. promise, " you respond, moving closer and kissing that frown away

" you gotta take better care of my girl, ya hear me? " nico says, pulling you onto his lap and pressing a kiss to your temple

" aye aye captain, " you answer teasingly and a giggle escapes as gently nips at your shoulder in retaliation.

but ever since then nico wakes up a little earlier and packs you lunch. of course he writes you little notes and tucks them into the bag.

and whenever he's on roadies he'll always make sure to doordash it to you along with some flowers and a note that tells you how much he misses you <3

യ JACK HUGHES

bf!jack who really does all the little things that many people may overlook but since you know from experience what it’s like to be in relationships with people who don’t even do the little things, you appreciate it so much.

he always goes out of his way to clean up the apartment your share, so that it doesn’t feel like you have to take care of him 24/7. in fact it’s the other way around. he’s the one who will load and unload the dishwasher. do your laundry when he’s doing his. clean up your car when he’s cleaning up his.

and yes the occasional mix up of white clothing and coloured clothing does happen, which results in a few your white tops, being a variety of different colours. mix ups that jack repeatedly apologized for and promised to replace when luke pointed it out to him one day.

“ you should’ve said something earlier, “ jack pouts when he examines the seven tops laying on the bed that you got out when he asked you to show him all the shirts he’s ruined

“ you were doing something nice, I didn’t wanna make you feel bad by pointing it out, besides you didn’t ruin them, just gave them a little make over, ” you tease and laugh when jack glares at you as his cheeks turn red

“ m’sorry baby. we can go shopping this weekend I’ll buy you new ones yeah? ” he says, pressing a sloppy kiss to jaw as he collects your tops off the bed and puts them on the chair in the corner. a place he’ll see them and remember to check the brands later.

speaking of shopping, jack loves getting you things. it was something you had to get used to at the start of your relationship as he’d often come home from roadies with a little gift for you.

it’s just sweet knowing that he’s thinking of you even when he’s far away and he’s focused on something else.

is 100% the type of boyfriend to send you money and with a text that reads “go get yourself something nice, you deserve it x ”

he makes sure to leave you a pair of his sweats and a hoodie whenever he goes on the road because he knows how much it helps you when he’s gone.

even buys you the same cologne he uses so you can spray it on the hoodie and it’ll smell like him even if he’s not here.

can’t convince me he doesn’t do a ton of these cute little things for his girl

യ LUKE HUGHES

boyfriend luke hughes who is a bit of a nerd and collects a bunch of random trinkets and collectables.

and once he starts dating you, he just starts collecting a bunch of random things that you might need at any given moment.

need a hair tie? luke has one around his wrist, waiting with anticipation for your hair to start annoying you so he can offer it to you.

getting a random tension headache? luke has some painkillers in the glove compartment. heat pack for your cramps are also in there. along with an eyelash curler.

he even buys mini versions of your essentials (lip gloss, hand sanitizer, etc) and keeps them with him in case you forget yours.

luke’s ass jean pocket? your miniature handbag. he literally has anything and everything you’d need in one of those back pockets. a bobby pin cause a strand of hair has been annoying you? just stick your hand in one of those back pockets and grab one.

and he loves sitting with you at your vanity while you do your makeup. and over time he learns your routine and starts handing you your products🥺

“ going a bit fancier today bub, can you hand me my bronzer? “ you mumble while applying your concealer as luke holds out your mascara

“ um — “ he mutters, retracting his hand and spins your little product cabinet around, looking for a little bottle with the word “bronzer” on it

“ it’s this one, “ you say, reaching and grabbing it yourself and luke’s cheeks redden a bit in response

“ sorry, ” he says sheepishly and you giggle as you lean over to press a kiss against his cheek

“ don’t worry about it baby, “

[shurisneakers]

cold hands in warm hands + hand kisses with my beloved bucky

Warnings: swearing, snow??

A/N: I see that you all like those grumpy x grumpy assholes. well here have some more of them

All it takes is one bad decision, and now the two of you are stuck in what has to be a walk-in freezer. Or maybe Siberia. Either way, it’s cold enough to regret every choice you’ve made today.

"You're not getting my jacket."

"Don't need it."

"Glasses are mine too."

"Don't need that either "

"Not givi--"

"I don't need your stuff," Bucky interrupts, rubbing a hand over his face. "I'm fine."

You’re too cold to argue, so instead, you stomp off to the corner of the freezer to rummage through empty boxes, hoping to find something remotely helpful. Nothing. Just the sound of Bucky’s boots crunching in the snow behind you, breathing down your neck like some clingy demon.

"You’re really looking for gloves?" he deadpans.

"Some of us don’t come with central heating."

He leans against the wall, arms crossed, looking like he’s impervious to the cold. Like this whole thing is a minor inconvenience and not, you know, a potential frostbite situation.

You don't respond, pulling out tins and empty boxes but nothing that can help warm your freezing fingers.

"Give me your hands," he mumbles.

"Get your own."

"You're gonna get frostbite."

"Promise?"

His eye twitches.

Half an hour later, you've turned away from him to hide the fact that you're blowing into your hands for any semblance of warmth.

"Just give me your hands," he sighs, clearly at the end of his patience.

"I’m fine," you grit out.

"You’re an idiot," he says instantly.

You send him the middle finger.

"Gonna be hard to flip me off once your fingers snap off."

You glare at him as he thrusts his flesh hand toward you, clearly daring you to refuse.

Reluctantly, you slap your hands into his, grumbling under your breath the whole time.

"Christ, your hands are fuckin' ice."

"Who's asking you to hold onto them," you snap, trying to tug them away.

"Quit movin'," he mumbles, tightening his grip. "I just said they were cold, nothing else."

Bucky's a space heater in human form. His hand radiates heat, almost immediately warming your fingers. You hate how good it feels. The additional heat the annoyance he provides you with also helps.

"Where'd the metal one go?"

"It's metal," he replies, tone flat. "What d'you think happens to metal in the cold?"

You narrow your eyes at him. "Pipe down, Mr Science. You're so fuckin' bitchy."

"Shut up," he groans, "Five minutes. That’s all I’m asking for."

Still, he stays where he is. The warmth from his hand is enough to have you regain feeling in your fingers, the sting of thawing making you wince.

"Give it," you demand after a moment.

"What."

You pry one hand loose of his, holding it out expectantly, sending an eyebrow at his metal hand that hung loose over his knee.

"What, one's not enough for you?" he evades.

"It's only fair," you argue.

"Fair? You think this is a democracy?"

"It's called paying it forward, asshole," you retort. "I'm not gonna let your one hand stay cold."

"No."

"It's so funny that you say that, because I don't remember asking."

"You’re cold enough as it is. It’d freeze your hands solid in seconds."

"Good to know you’re selectively useful," you mutter, but your voice is quieter now.

The two of you stare at each other, deadlocked, frost gathering in the air between you.

You pull your hands back.

"Christ alive, what are you? Six?"

"Either both hands are getting warm or neither are," you declare. "Cry about it. You've got both hands free to wipe your tears."

He sighs irritatedly.

You both sit in the cold, arms crossed over your chests.

"Give me your hands," he says, voice low.

"You first."

Finally, with a muttered curse, Bucky thrusts his metal hand at you. "Happy now?"

You clasp both his hands, and the two of you sit in sulky silence as the warmth slowly spreads.

You glance at him after a moment. "We look like we’re auditioning for Les Misérables."

He huffs a laugh, his breath freezing in the air.

Bucky lifts the arm holding his metal hand, and presses a kiss to your open palm, lingering for a second, before letting it down again.

"You argue too damn much," he mumbles.

The tips of your ears feel warm, and you don't think it's from the cold.

You roll your eyes, "You're the one who threw a hissy fit."

Either way, you shuffle closer to him as you wait for someone to come pick you both up.

[vanishingcherry]

YN YLN and Charles Leclerc Take a Couples Quiz

pairing: charles leclerc x reader

author's note: this has been in my drafts for wayy to long, so ive decided to just finish it off and post it. im sorry lmao but i just couldn't watch this rot away in my wips any longer.

masterlist

๑ ⋆˚₊⋆────ʚ˚ɞ────⋆˚₊⋆ ๑

The video cut to you and Charles, sitting opposite each other in front of a yellow to red gradient, smiling at the camera.

"Hi! I'm YN", you say cheerfully.

"And I'm Charles"

"And we are here to take a couples quiz!"

You are handed a stack of questions from a person off screen, and turn towards Charles.

"Are you ready?"

"Is that the first question?" he retorts.

Your face drops, now showing slight annoyance but there is still a small smile you try to hide. "That's it. Minus 1 points."

"Oh c'mon! That is not fair."

You turn to argue but the video cuts to a different scene in which you ask the actual first question.

"What things do I have, of yours, that are my favourite?

He looks up in thought before chuckling and replying. "Theres a lot, you steal my stuff all the time."

You grin. "Yes, but what's my favourite?"

"My shirts? No wait! My bracelets?" He asks.

"Yeah!" you exclaim. Turning to the camera you add. "He gets so many bracelets from fans and they are all so pretty. We keep them in a bowl on our dresser so I like to take a few whenever I go out."

Looking back at Charles, you add. "You didn't know the answer, but you still got it right so I think you deserve half a point." The staff behind the camera gives you a thumbs up, noting it down for when they would edit the video.

"Ok! Next question- which song of yours is my favourite?"

He looks at you, his eyes widening with a confused expression on his face. He looks at the camera crew and then back at you.

"C'mon, I only have 2 it's not a very hard question."

"Then answer it." you reply, looking at him with a small smirk.

"Fine. Uh, AUS23."

"Wrong!" you exclaim, laughing at the way his jaw drops in surprise.

"Then what? I know its not Miami."

"Its the one you wrote for Baku." you slyly say, knowing fully well that he hadn't released it and you were possibly the only one other than him to have heard it.

You look down at the cards you had been given, reading off the next question. "What is the first thing I eat in the morning?"

You see his smirk growing in your peripheral vision and cut in before he answers. "If you dare make a joke, I will murder you."

He laughs at that, chuckling as he looks up to think. "Um. Breakfast? It's different things every morning, but if I wake up before her then I make cereal."

Noticing the evident confusion on the faces of the cameramen, you elaborate. "It's the only thing he's allowed to make without me present. The last time I let him cook alone, he burned the pancakes and half our kitchen."

Turning red at the story, he interrupts. "Okayy, next question amore."

"Which side of the bed do I sleep on?"

"Left."

"If I could get a tattoo of something, what would it be?"

"A bouquet of flowers. The flowers would be your favourite and my favourite together."

You are shocked at his response. "How did you remember that? I told you that ages ago!"

He smiles slyly to the camera. "That is why I am the best boyfriend, there is no need for these silly questions I am already the best. She told me so in be-"

"Right. Next question." You cut him off, eyes widening as you figure out where he was going with the statement. "This is the last one. If I could live anywhere in the world, where would it be?"

"Oh this is easy. Italy. You are always talking about how much you love it. But you also love Monaco and France so depending on how you feel, one of those three."

"Well.", you look at the camera, "I think that answer deserves 2 points." Handing your questions off to the side, you turn to Charles who has started reading the first of his questions.

"If I had a ticket to anywhere in the world, where would I go?" he reads. "This is similar to yours", he mutters.

"Home", you say confidently. "He's a mama's boy, tries to go back home as much as possible."

He blushes slightly before nodding to the camera. "Yup, 1 point."

"What was I wearing on our first date?"

You reply quick as lightening. "A shirt and pants. Very gentlemanly, I remember thinking, probably the best first impression I've had of a guy."

His eyebrows raise at the confession, cockily tilting his head in the direction of the camera. "You heard her! Next, what is something I hate?"

"A lot of things, Char."

"Is that your final answer, cherie?"

"Um." you pause. "Oh I know! When manipulate stuff that you say. It makes me really mad too. It gets really tiresome when they take stuff that Charles has said that turn into into a different story altogether."

"Thats true, I do hate that." He smiles at you, reaching over to squeeze your hand once to say thank you.

"How many kids do I want?"

"3, because you have 2 siblings. But, you said you want as many as I am comfortable with!"

"Of course, amour. You're the one whose going to be carrying them, your choice is more important here. What is something I get annoyed about?"

"Oh, when Seb and Carlos beat you at those Ferrari games you play."

His jaw drops in faux offence, shaking his head as he reads out the last question on his cue card.

"What is one my hidden talents?"

You look straight at the camera, not dissimilar to The Office. A smirk grows on your face and the lens zooms in. In the background Charles can be heard complaining.

"Oh I see! You can make these jokes, but I cant?"

The video cuts to the wider angle once again, you and Charles wave at the camera.

"Thanks for watching our couples quiz! I think it's clear that I've won."

Charles rolls his eyes, eyes shining with admiration and love for you. "Bye everybody."

Comments:

charleslover: OH MY GOD!! THEY ARE SO IN LOVE IT KILLS ME

ynandcharles: their facial expressions always kill me

username89: where do i get a charles leclerc bcs i will willingly offer all the money i have

doratheexplorer16: their love for each other hurts

[pr3ttylittleslutt]

𝓣𝓸𝔁𝓲𝓬 𝓜.𝓢

Pairing: Toxic! Ex bf! Matt x Ex!Reader

Summary: When your ex boyfriend comes at your place to get his stuff turns into something more.

Cw: Smut, oral (f receiving), toxic relationship, cheating, love bombing?, slight manipulation, Matt being an asshole and lowkey a bit delusional, dom!Matt, sub!reader.

AN: THIS IS FICTIONAL. None of this is real I don’t think Matt would EVER cheat on a significant other Anyways enjoy sluts

I was sitting in my living room watching a movie until I heard a knock on my door, I groan getting up grabbing my zip up rushing to the door I open it only to see my ex boyfriend. Matt, “what are you doing here” I ask “Hey im just here to get my stuff back and I’ll leave” I hesitate before ultimately to let him in “Thanks” he steps in heading straight towards my bedroom, going through everything collecting all his belongings “So your already seeing another guy? Is that you trying to get back at me of something?” He ask I roll my eyes “no actually he is really sweet and doesn’t treat me like a piece of shit” I say sarcastically watching him pack up, he chuckles shaking his head “oh yeah? You don’t got to lie to me, If you wanna try to get back at him you gotta do better than that” he says “your such a self absorbed asshole” I retorted “Im not being an asshole, im just bring honest” he shrugs looking through the closet it seems like he can’t find what he’s looking for “what are you looking for” I question “My gray hoodie you keep borrowing” he answers “oh I don’t know where it is I thought you took with you” I reply my kind flooded of the incidents of that night.

I had found out Matt cheated on me with 3 different girls, I was heartbroken to say the least. I confronted him that night which led us here now “Well im not leaving till I find it” he says I scoff at his dramatics sitting on my bed waiting for him to finish when I hear his laughing to himself “What? What’s so funny” “it’s just i dont know why you even bother to date someone else, your never gonna move on” he turns to face me slowly walking up to me “ I know you missed me” I roll my eyes in annoyance “Don’t roll your eyes at me” he demands “I know you want me back, this new guy whatever his name is just a little distraction” he continues “he’s never gonna replace me, this happens everytime, we have a big fight, we argue, we break up and then what a week two weeks later we’re back together and you wanna know why?” I don’t respond tilting my head to the side “It’s because you can’t stay away from me” he comes closer “you’re gonna text me at 2 in the morning and your gonna ask me something like ‘what happened’ ‘why are we doing this’ and then I’m gonna come over and im gonna remind why you can’t stay away from me” he moves his face directly infront of mine. “Go fuck youself” I push him away ready to kick him out when he speaks “He hasn’t touched you yet has he?” “Excuse me?” “By that answer I can tell it’s a no, you really do miss me” “no I don’t” “You wanna know how I know you still miss me? If you really wanted me home you’d have my shit in a box, you knew I would pass by” he says nonchalantly I groan rolling my eyes “Stop the groaning and rolling your eyes” “I fucking hate you.” He looks amused by my words “oh yeah? You hate me?” I start going off on him, yelling, cussing but he doesn’t seem to care, staring at me with a ridiculously sexy smirk.

“Your just mad because I’m moving on and not your lil play toy no more” I say going around the room grabbing more of his stuff “oh yeah? No for sure it’s different this time isnt it” “Yes it is now hurry up pack your shit and leave” he sits on the bed watching me run around the place “We both know your just talking for talking sake” he tells me “and how would know that?” “Baby I know you, I know what you like, what you don’t like, what you think of. Ain’t nobody gonna treat you the way I do” “well that the reason why we broke up” he chuckled “Nobody gonna touch you the way I do” I pause turning to look at him “shit I made you say, shit I made you do nobody’s gonna do that for you” I shove the last of his stuff at him “Get out” he takes it looking through it “Where’s my gray hoodie?, I told im not leaving without it” I groan “I’d its know Matt if I find it I’ll mail it to you or something now get out” “damn you got a little attitude, you know what happens when you give me an attitude” he gets up “I put you in your place he’s gonna do that to you, he’s gonna let you walk all over him” “Well you don’t have the right to do that anymore now go” “help me find it” “what?” “Help me find the hoodie then I’ll leave” “No ill drop it off if I find it” “Well im not leaving until you help me find it” he sits back down pulling out his phone “Ok fine whatever” I start looking around “Where did you put it” “I don’t know I haven’t seen it” “Maybe it’s under bed” “I don’t know go look” “nah you do it” “what why me? It’s your shit” “Because your a lot closer to the ground than I am come on just look” “Ok calm down ur not that tall” I say sighing bending down to look under my bed when I feel a hand come down on my ass “MATT” I get up in disbelief “Come on don’t act like you didn’t see that coming” “NO I DIDNT GET THE FUCK OUT” I start berating him putting all his clothes away in the bag on the bed.

He grabs my hand arm “why don’t you kiss me” I give him the most disgusted side eye (no but I would to if a man told me that) “Excuse me? No. Im with Chase and im not a cheater like you” he groans “Come on baby, just one kiss to say goodbye” “Matt no and let go off me” “Why you don’t like me grabbing you no more” “No” I shake his arm off of me “Damn it’s a shame because your little outfit is making quite hard to keep my hands off you” suddenly I regret wearing shirts and a tank top, I zip up my hoodie trying my best to cover myself he laughs at this and places his hands on my hip “Come on it’s just one kiss I promise then I’ll leave forget about the hoodie” I look up at him finding it quite hard to not give in. He grabs my chin bringing his face close to mine attaching our lips together. I close my eyes kissing him back and bringing my hands up to his neck moving my body closer to his, at first it’s slow and soft and for a minute I let myself forget abt every thing until he starts to get rough, hands runs all over my body “I fucking knew it” he says in between kisses before he roughly turns me around pushing me on the bed.

I try to get up but he shoves me back down, he practically rips off my shorts off me “Matt-” “Shut the fuck up.” He says as his hands runs all come down on my ass repeatedly and im a moaning mess “Yeah? Thought you could just get rid of me? Sorry to break it to ya sweetheart but you’re mine. Your mine till the day you die, I own you and your body” he says in my ear, once he’s is done abusing my ass he turns me over in my back tearing my panties off “Say it, say that your mine” his hands flies to my pussy rubbing little circles on my clit and run his finger up and down my slit “f-fuck im yours Matt all yours please” he smirks happy with my answer “Mm good girl” he slips his finger in me moving as I cry out “take that off” he motions to my shirt when I do, he starts kissing my chest slowly going down to my stomach and then my thighs “Matt please” I beg “Please what? Tell me what you want baby” “I need you” he removes his hand from my aching pussy “Yeah pretty girl? I thought you moved on hm” I groan not wanting to talk abt it “Your not getting me until you admit that you want me back” even though I want to not want him anymore I can’t get over him “I want you back Matt please I missed you” he chuckles as he finally latches into my dripping pussy “OH MY GOD MATT” I moan out my hands flying to his hair.

He doesn’t tease nothing he devours me like he hasn’t eaten in months “fuck I missed your pretty little moans” he says his lips going to suction on my clit as he shoves his fingers in me once again “Matt please” I whining when his hands slap over my thighs moving his mouth over to my inner thigh kissing his way back up to my face, his hands keep on moving in me but his thumb on my clit “ah fuck Matt please don’t stop” “Wasn’t planning on it baby” he captures my lips in another kiss which I moan into “Fuck, thought you said we were done huh? Yeah was done with my bullshit now look at you, dripping all over my hand” he says looking down where his hand was working in me, I feel the knot tightening in my stomach as my hand flies to his arm “M-Matt” “Mm you wanna cum for me princess?” I nod my head my legs starting to shake uncontrollably “shit ah Matt please” he lean into my ear “cum for me sweet girl” and with that waves of pleasure crashes over me with a pornographic scream.

I come down from my turning to face him, post nut clarity hitting me like a bus “Im moving my things back in tomorrow” he says getting up heading towards the bathroom connected to my room coming back with a small towel whipping his fingers with it before cleaning me up “I gotta go film with Chris and Nick so I’ll be back in the morning ok?” I remain unresponsive already knowing where this is going he look me jn my eyes and sighs “Baby I know I messed up but I’ll change for you yeah? You trust me?” He says as he grabs my shorts and underwear dressing me “Matt seriously this is your last chance. If you mess up again we’re done, for good” I say sternly knowing deep down even if we do break up again I will unfortunately always take him back “ofc my love I won’t” he leans down and kisses me “I’ll see you tomorrow pretty girl, I love you” he says “I love you too” when he finally leaves.

AN: this shit took too long sigh and also I suck at writing sex soooooo yeah no sex but I hope u enjoyed

Tags: @trevorsgodmother @dykes4chris

[jj-lvr]

PART ONE

taken!jj x routledge!reader, cheating, basically backstory atp, brothers best friend, start of a series, inspired by my dr, mean!jj mdni

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it was no secret that jj saw you as nothing more than a nuisance. he had confirmed it himself one night when he and john b had been arguing, that he didn’t understand why his best friend had kicked him out of the guest bedroom for “some chick who might not even be your sister.” your brother kicked him out for the night not long after that, and despite all your reasoning with him he refused to let jj back in until he apologised.

that was until topper and rafe needed amusement. the pogues had been out at the boneyard for some reason you couldn’t remember when you had fallen asleep, only to be woken up two days later by jj in the basement of tannyhill. he told you the kooks had kidnapped you, with an awfully sympathetic voice that you really didn’t expect from him.

that was two weeks ago, two long weeks of your brothers friends sneaking off together and ignoring your existence. you were sick and tired of it. it didn’t take much reasoning in your mind for you to pack your bags, nor to stuff your pillows under the bedsheets to make it look like you were still in bed. the wind brushed your face as you looked back at what was meant to be your home. god, you needed to leave.

as you stealthily closed the bedroom door behind you, a voice caught you off guard.

“well damn,” jj scoffed as he sat up shirtless on the sofa bed, “now what do we have here?”

“leave me alone, jj.”

he went silent at your tone for a moment, eyes pinned on you as you walked past him to the front door. “where you going?”

you rolled your eyes as you opened the door. “i’m going home, duh,” you replied in a huff as you stormed out. the quick pace of footsteps caused you to roll your eyes.

“oh hell no,” jj hissed at the sight of your truck, parked in the driveway and ready to go back to Florida. “you can’t leave.”

“um…yeah i can,” you retort as you head towards it, “what, you suddenly care?” as you speak you open the passenger door and load your bags in.

“you wish, babe,” he smiles with no humour to him at all, before he turns on you and heads to the driver side. “feel free to go to florida for a bit, properly say goodbye and all, but i’m coming with you to make sure you come back. your my best friend’s only family.”

the mention of your brother stung; he had been nothing but sweet these last couple of weeks. you had cooked with him for the pogues, you had fished with him, he had even taught you how to skim a stone. your memory soured when you realised who exactly you were talking to.

“don’t you have a girlfriend, jj?” you asked quietly, and he stiffens before shrugging and stepping up into the drivers seat. “you’d better stay here with her.”

“what, and let john b wallow even more because he has no family, yeah fat fucking chance,” his harsh words as he snatched your keys from you make you flinch, and for a moment you could swear his eyes soften their piercing gaze before he recovers again. “she’ll be fine. i’ll text her, or get you to do it so she doesn’t worry.”

“won’t she be jealous…you know, that you’re off with a younger girl to florida for god knows how long?” you were provoking him, you knew that. with the way he was looking back at you, he knew it too.

“shut the fuck up,” he simply states, a bite to his tone that wasn’t there before. you wonder if you struck a nerve. “i’m seventeen and you’re sixteen, don’t make this into something it’s not.” bingo.

you were in for a long ride.

[laura1633]

Now and again I like to write something totally stupid and ridiculous. Currently that is a Max/Charles/Oscar threesome with one problem, three bottoms and no top.

Here is an absolutely rough first draft of the start that just made me giggle to myself because I am in a stupid mood 😂. Don't worry it will be improved upon or end up getting deleted:

“What made you think I top?” Max stares at Charles and Oscar in disbelief. He’s never topped a day in his life and he’s not about to start now, not if he can help it. 

“Well because…,” Charles starts to stutter, “I just … I thought… I just did.” 

“Well I don’t,” Max frowns, he is starting to wish they’d had this conversation back in the club because the excitement from the cab back to the hotel is starting to fizzle whilst they try and work this out. 

“So nobody tops?!” Charles pouts and tries to make puppy dog eyes at Oscar and Max. 

“Well we could just -, do other stuff,” Oscar shrugs, he doesn’t look convinced though. Max isn’t convinced either, without sounding ungrateful he did not come back here just to get blown. 

“Someone is just going to have to do it,” Charles says matter of factly, “But not me.” 

“Fine,” Max tries to be the voice of reason, “Whoever has the biggest dick has to top. Fair?”

Max sees the uncertainty on both Charles and Oscar’s faces and thinks he is likely on to a winner here. 

“I don’t know -“ Oscar frowns and tries to discreetly lower his gaze down to both Charles and Max’s groin areas to work out the competition. 

“It’s the fairest way,” Max is pretty confident he doesn’t have the biggest dick here. He’s not tiny, probably average. It’s a bit of a gamble really but they need to sort this out one way or another. 

“Fine,” Charles concedes, “Just - , biggest when hard or ?”

“I’m not hard now,” Oscar mumbles. 

“Me neither,” Max adds. He was hard a few minutes ago, when he was mouthing up Oscar’s neck and had Charles’ hands all over his bare chest.  

“So not hard then?” Charles looks between Max and Oscar, “So do we just …” 

“Whip em out,” Oscar laughs awkwardly. 

“Okay but -, “ Max watches Charles and Oscar reach for their jeans, “Pants off or are we just-“ 

“Oh my god does it matter?” Charles huffs, “Just get your dick out so we can get on with this.” 

Max frowns but does as Charles says and tugs his jeans and boxers down and takes his dick in his hand and bingo - 

“Oscar wins,” Max announces gleefully. 

“What?! No!” Oscar’s gaze flits between Max and Charles’ dicks. Which are both definitely shorter, “We did not say biggest length. We didn’t specify.”

“I thought that was pretty obvious,” Max huffs, there is no way that he is letting Oscar get out of this on a technicality.

“No it’s not obvious, length isn’t as important as girth. Everybody knows that!” Oscar points accusingly at Max’s dick, “And yours is thickest so actually you win.” 

Charles chuckles, “He has a point. Maybe you both win. I can take both.”

“I don’t know why you’re laughing,” Max tries quickly to deflect. 

“His is longer, yours is thicker,” Charles says with a huge grin on his face. 

“And yours is the perfect combination of both,” Max retorts. The Dutchman can’t believe they are arguing so heatedly about dick size. And more strikingly all very adamant that they do not in fact have the biggest dick. 

“He’s kind of right,” Oscar shrugs, “Its almost the same length as mine, almost as thick as his. I’d say biggest all around.”

“Absolutely not!!!” Charles protests, “No way, that is not fair. I’m awful at topping. My rhythm it’s - ” 

Max stands and watches Oscar and Charles start to squabble. It’s like some kind of stand off, except rather than holding pistols they are all stood pointing their dicks at each other. It’s ridiculous - 

“I’m invoking champion’s rights…” Max announces. He didn’t really want to do this but he’s recently crowned and that should surely get him something, “… so I don’t care who it is but someone better put their dick in me right now!!!”

[outerbankies]

“it’s late, come back to bed.”

PROMPT CELLY GO BRRRRRRRRR. thank u for requesting this one (forever ago) bestie!!!! 💓🤩👯‍♀️

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new light: space and time

rafe x reader, part of the 2k prompt celly for new light (masterlist if ur not up on NL). we’re back in the present!

A stubborn knot about the size of a fist had settled into place at the top of Rafe’s spine slowly over the last few weeks, right in between his often-taught shoulder blades.

He guesses it was during the late nights like these that it began to form, when he’s hunched over his sketching table in the garage lit only by the warm lightbulb in the work lamp over his head—drawing and erasing and scrapping to start over again and again. Or when he’s on his laptop tinkering with his website or any of the platforms he uses for invoicing and processing orders, easily his least favorite part of all of this, until his eyes are irritated and red.

Though it’s certainly not made better by the other half of his day, where he’s hunched over or crouching under his projects as he brings them to life, doubting himself the entire time, twisting himself into weird angles just to make sure everything holds and looks how he pictured it. But at least he likes that part.

A hand, holding a warmth that Rafe can feel through the cotton of his long-sleeve t-shirt, settles directly into place over that knot at the top of his spine, and he feels himself take a deep, steadying breath as he leans back into your touch.

“What’s this, baby, the built-ins?” you ask, your voice softer in these midnight hours.

“Yeah,” Rafe sighs, immediately rubbing his hands into his eyes, his knuckles turning his vision bleary momentarily. “For Beau’s friend.”

“Mmm,” you hum, slightly digging the heel of your palm into his back. Rafe lets out a groan. “There?”

“Right there,” he confirms, letting his head drop back gratefully, accepting a few sleepy kisses once he goes.

You place your other hand on his shoulder for some leverage, leaning over him to peer at his catastrophe of a workstation. “I thought you’d already gone over the sketches with them?”

“I did,” he says. “But they go in tomorrow.”

“Right,” you nod, scrutinizing them again, looking to see if they’d changed at all. “I remember.”

“So I’m just making sure—” Rafe stops momentarily, letting out a hiss. “Careful, baby.”

The pressure on his back eases immediately, and you take to rubbing your hand across the span of his shoulders instead. “Sorry. What were you saying?”

“I’m just making sure I have everything down,” he continues, leaning forward again. “I wanna know my stuff before I head in.”

“What if I quiz you? On measurements and colors and finishes and—”

“I appreciate the enthusiasm,” he interjects, his smile rivaling yours when you finally settle into his lap like he’d been angling for you to since he heard the garage door open and knew he’d be getting that reprieve from the mess inside his head. “But it doesn’t really work like that, sweetheart.”

You roll your eyes, snaking your arms around his neck anyway, the pads of your fingers rubbing circular motions into his trouble spot again. “Then how else can I get you to come back to bed?”

Guilt settles into Rafe’s stomach like a rock, the soreness in his back momentarily forgotten as he sees the plea in your eyes. “I swear I’ll be up soon.”

“Rafe, it’s late.”

“Coming from you,” he retorts, virtually no bite behind his words. Because as Rafe had left Beau’s company months ago and only since then become more entrenched in his new job, in starting his own business, you’d seamlessly settled in at your job at the publishing house, not overworking yourself nearly as much as the two of you used to argue about. Still more than Rafe would ever prefer, naturally, but he’s not sure he has room to talk anymore.

“We’re turning into perfect little Figure 8 capitalists right on schedule, aren’t we?” you say, wiggling around in his lap in a way he isn’t convinced isn’t a punishment for abandoning his side of the bed a few hours ago.

You lean forward, grabbing one of the pencils Rafe had discarded and tapping it on your chin while he checks his watch, feeling his eyes widen.

“God, I’m turning into my dad.”

“No you’re not,” you laugh, still leaning out of his reach as you seem to start writing something in one the margins. You pause, pointing the pencil at the long-cold cup of coffee next to his pencil cup. “Unless there’s secretly liquor in your decaf over there. You know decaf still has caffeine in it, right?”

At Rafe’s silence, you turn to him with your eyebrows raised, the pencil dropping out of your hand and clattering onto the table.

“Like… trace amounts, right?” he asks sheepishly.

“My sweet, sweet boy,” you sigh, running your fingers through the hair on top of Rafe’s head that’s really beginning to need a cut.

“Probably need it,” he shrugs. “I’ll only be up a little while longer though. Promise.”

“You’re really worried about this one, aren’t you?” you ask him softly, some of the mirth fading in your eyes as you trace a finger around the shell of his ear.

“It’s Beau’s friend, baby, I… these guys could have anyone working on their houses. And Beau was really good to me about quitting. I just wanna nail this one and be done with it,” Rafe admits.

He doesn’t tack on the bit about how this feels like one of his first big tests; his first custom, built-in piece period, outside of the ones he’s made for his most forgiving audience, his sisters and you. Because it’s one thing to make a piece for a friend of a friend of a friend, or even to sell one in a store where someone can see it and touch it and decide that they hate it before they have to commit. But it’s another to have someone counting on him to deliver exactly what they envision, let alone someone who could be Rafe’s foot in the door to a wealth of opportunities. He wants to be done with it at this point, sure, but he doesn’t want it to be the end of this road.

“Exactly,” you say, shrugging. “They could have anyone. And I love you, Rafe, but I mean literally anyone else. But your designs are good. Really good. And your craftsmanship is impeccable. They want you.”

He feels his cheeks heating up, and knows it’s showing based on the twinkle in your eye. “You’re an expert in furniture and carpentry now, are you?”

“I am, because I’ve now lived in two Pinterest-level apartments without ever having to hire a contractor. And I’m a picky bitch,” you say, laughing around the last bit.

“You are not,” Rafe laughs. “And half of that is your decorating. Maybe 70, 75%.”

“Your modestly will never not exhaust me,” you declare, smacking one last kiss onto his lips before standing up. “You’re gonna be fine tomorrow, alright? But you’ve got to get some sleep.”

“Ten minutes?” he pleads.

“I will generously give you ten seconds instead. It’s your lucky day,” you say, shuffling toward the doorway back into the house, where two curious dogs await your return.

“Thanks,” he answers sarcastically, before standing to check everything over one last time. These guys could have anyone, he tells himself. They chose him.

He’s gathering his pencils to deposit back into the cup, just about to reach over his head and turn off his work lamp for the night when he sees it, what you’d been scribbling into the margin on one of his designs: you got this RC. hurry home!

At just the same moment that he’s he’s tracing over your loopy “y” and the heart you’d finished your note off with, you call out his name from the doorway, his family waiting for him.

You give him a saccharine-sweet smile, your arms crossed over your chest. “I wasn’t asking.”

[biasomnia]

Ignore me if I am getting stuff wrong but I’ve recently begun to think of Viktor’s journey throughout Arcane in the context of the classic gothic sci-fi novel Frankenstein (I specify novel due to not watching any of the movies). It’s fascinating how Viktor is both the creature (“Adam”) and, uhm, Victor Frankenstein himself.

~Essay below the cut for your scrolling ease~

Firstly, it’s clear in season 1 how Viktor = Victor. Both are bright eyed students yearning for knowledge and to make change with professors warning them to not get lost within the ideals to the post they lose their morals. Unlike Victor Frankenstein, Viktor sees the horrors of the Hexcore only after it as killed, yet like the tale of yore he has no strength to beat his creature alone. So Viktor asks Jayce for help.

Now, Jayce is our Frankenstein. Another bright eyed inventor, doomed to create. He brings the dead to life with an unexplained science. Yet unlike Victor, Jayce sees his resuscitated creature with awe at first when it awakens. All his theories are true. Yet it, Viktor, languishes. An unnatural life, an unnatural body, fused with his creature into something new. Like the creature, he flees, desperate to find out who he, who it is.

I would consider Viktor in act 2 of season 2 a continuation of him as the creature, if the creature was seen as a messenger of god. As the creature once said, “.. I ought to be thy Adam, but I am rather the fallen angel..” (Chapter 10). Viktor is if the creature were truly allowed to be Adam, to be the first of the new mankind. The next step of Evolution. One could argue he still represent Victor within his scientific pursuits, but I’d retort the creature has as much of a smart mind as his creator, willing to push himself.

Sadly for Viktor, Jayce has no awe left. He has fully embraced being Frankenstein, seeing his choice after the bombing as an inhumane mistake. Jayce declares his goal: to right his wrongs. Unlike both Viktor and Victor, Jayce has the strength to do so. He brings himself infront of his creature. Something made with his friend’s body, wearing his friend’s face, his friend’s memories recognizing Jayce and feeling safe. So Jayce must tighten his grip on the hammer kill it.

When act 3 begins, Viktor is now an amalgamation of both the creature and Frankenstein. He is something new and feared, something that wants and begs for its creator’s love and acknowledgement. He is someone exploring a new field, seeking praise as he delves into waters too deep for people to handle, not noticing the air leaving his lungs as he drowns in the knowledge around him. He creates many a creature, each a cherished doll.

I’d say that Jayce is also a similar amalgamation, something touched and formed by something, someone, higher than him. Someone else’s creature, a horrid reminder of everything that world lost nestled within his hands. He is still Frankenstein, as seen with “My partner died in this room.” (S2, Act III). I think there is more to be said on Jayce’s journey in the context of Frankenstein but it’s 1am and I could make a more official essay later. I felt it important to include this short paragraph, however, before we delve into our conclusion.

The two finally stand face to face once more, the lines are blurred on who is the creature and the creator, but that does not matter now. No matter which of the two they are, they want the other dead. So they fight and the lines blur further and further till the two have to look at eachother, at their human faces in the cosmic plane. The line is gone. Both Viktor and Jayce are the creators of Hextech, the new science that was a piece of ever tragedy. Both are creatures made by Hextech, unable to live without it. So like Victor and the creature, Jayce and Viktor realize they have no place left in the world. So they leave it, letting the world distort and contort their story as time passes by.

[zombiigrll]

ALWAYS YOU. ⋆｡°✩ carl grimes x reader .ᐟ WORD COUNT .ᐟ ⭑ 1.6K ꩜ .ᐟ WARNINGS ⭑ enemies to lovers, use of y/n, near-death, apocalypse stuff (of course), kissing <3 .ᐟ SUMMARY .ᐟ ⭑ after years of hating each other, the group gets sick of the constant arguments between you two and send you on a run together. ꩜ .ᐟ A/N .ᐟ ⭑ this is somewhat an edition to my carol fic, but you don't have to read that to read this! theres not any relevance besides a little reference to it here and there >_0

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you and carl's constant bickering was pretty normal to people at this point. i mean, they've been dealing with it since the prison.

you had been with lizzie and mika since the start, so you naturally arrived at the prison with them by your side.

what did this have to do with you and carl hating each other? well, probably the fact that lizzie was a bit... odd? she'd always name walkers, attempt to play with them, stupid things like that. and that pissed carl off.

-

"they're not people and they're not pets. don't name them." he sternly ordered lizzie, giving her a nasty look as he spoke.

as much as you understood where he was coming from, lizzie was like a sister to you, and you weren't going to let anyone talk to her like that.

"who do you think you are telling us what to do?" you put your hands sassily on your hips, giving him back the snotty look he was giving lizzie just a few seconds ago.

carl simply laughs in response, rolling his eyes at your response. "my dad is the leader here."

"so? what does that have to do with you?" carl looks at you as if he didn't have a plan of what to say after that. "...whatever. it doesn't mean anything, either way. you shouldn't be naming walkers. it's weird." he crossed his arms and turns around, walking away and signaling for patrick to come with.

-

...but there has to be a stop to everything.

as much as the group was used to your guys' bickering, they were sick of it. it was basically impossible to go a day without the two of you arguing. the two of you had a zero tolerance for one another, you were basically each others verbal punching bag.

so, rick and michonne decided to make a plan for the two of you to go on a run together. they told you separately that you needed to go on a run, but didn't say with who.

"hey." you heard called from behind you with a knock of the doorframe. you turned your head around to spot michonne with a smile. "we have you set up for a run today."

"oh, okay." you nodded, setting your comic book down to your side and spinning around on your bed to put your shoes on. you never questioned who you were going on a run with. frankly, you didn't care much. they never usually put you on runs with carl, and only with the same few people for a consistent schedule for everyone.

but carl was a different story. when rick told him, rick couldn't have prepared for how persisting carl would be about who he was going on a run with.

you see, with carl, he had to know everything about a run. where he was going, how he was getting there, who he was going with, everything.

"why can't you tell me who i'm going with?" carl threw his hands up in the air, confused and angry.

"why does it matter so much?" rick retorted, raising his eyebrow and crossing his arms.

"you told me were going to the center market. that's decently dangerous. i need to know who's going to be with me."

"...you're going with y/n." he caved, a hand on his forehead as he spoke.

"are you kidding me?" carls tone turned soft, lightly laced with anger. "that's too dangerous for her!"

carl was genuinely speaking, but rick was mostly confused why his first reaction was worry instead of anger.

"it's not too dangerous for her. that girls been through a lot. she knows how to handle herself."

"that doesn't change the fact that its dangerous-" "you're going on the run, that's final." rick cut carl off, walking out of his room and slamming the door shut.

after carl finished getting ready, you met up with him at the car.

"i'm going on a run with you?" you laughed, your eyebrow raised.

"yep, suck it up." carl blanky responded, hopping into the drivers seat swiftly.

you got into the passengers seat with a huff, crossing your arms and leaning your feet up on the dash as he started driving, but he quickly swiped your feet away.

"keep your feet off the dash." he ordered with his eyes still pealed on the road.

"whatever."

well, isn't this going to be a fun trip.

...

the two of you arrived at the center market, and to say it was packed with walkers would be an understatement. the two of you could still easily get past them and into the shops, but it was still dangerous.

you kept your knife in hand as you walked out with carl by your side holding his knife in one hand and having his other hand laying on his holstered gun around his waist.

you guys made it into the large shop that was simply just labeled 'food' and began scavenging for anything.

and to your guys' luck, it seemed as if no one had scavenged in here yet. at least not too much. you found canned food, bottled water, chips, so much. your backpacks were at least a couple ounces heavier afterwards.

"is that everything?" you asked carl, practically shouting across the store to him.

"keep it down!" he whisper yelled. "you're gonna attract them. and yes, as far as i can see."

you put your backpack back on, as just as you got your hand through the other strap, you heard a crash.

coming from the entrance of the building.

"y/n!" carl shouted, running over to your side.

"holy shit!" you pulled out your knife just in time to stab the walker coming up behind you. "god, oh, god."

carl caught up to you and stood by your side, gun in hand and shooting at the long distance walkers as you stabbed the ones closer.

"if you weren't shouting like a fucking idiot, maybe this wouldn't have happened." carl muttered as he shot the incoming wave of walkers roaming into the building.

"i know, i'm sorry!" you replied, your voice wobbly and anxious. you felt guilty enough all ready, and his smartass comments were not helping.

carl would usually snap back at you, but he didn't. instead, his face turned somber. “look, if we don’t make it out of this.. just remember that it was.. it was always you.” carl mutters under his breath as he’s slashing at the walkers.

“what?” you turn your head to face him, eyes wide in confusion.

but before he gave any explanation on his words, carl grabs your hand, interlocking your fingers together, and begins dragging you into a nearby room right through the walkers.

"keep the door shut!" he yells as he runs further into the room and with zero hesitation, you throw your back against the door, applying your full body weight onto it to assure the walkers don't get in.

carl pushes over a table into the corridor, signaling for you to quickly move before ramming it into the door.

he steps away from the door, breathless. he runs a hand through his hair as he re-regulates his breathing.

“…so.” you lay your hands on top of your knees, catching your breath. “what did you mean ‘it was always you?’”

carl rubs the back of his neck awkwardly, his face shading into a slightly pink tone. “..i don’t know.”

“come on, why did you say that then?” you persisted, stepping closer to him with your arms crossed. “you never say something for no reason.”

he sighs. “i thought we were going to die, and i didn’t want my last words to you to be something i didn’t mean.”

“so you didn’t mean the ‘fucking idiot’ comment?” you raised an eyebrow.

“no. i didn’t. i never really meant anything like that. i've never felt like that about you.” he averts his gaze down to his feet, messing with his hands. “kind of the opposite, actually.”

“…what?” you slowly processed what he was getting at.

“i mean, like… i can’t stand you, but i also can’t stand the thought of losing you. or you getting hurt, anything like that.” he anxiously confessed. “even after all of our pointless arguments-“

you grabbed the collar of his flannel and pulled him down into a kiss. when you pulled away, he stared back at you wide-eyed.

“…why did you do that?”

“because you never stop talking.” you laughed, staring at the dumbfounded boy lovingly.

“so you don’t hate me?” he muttered curiously.

“i never did. i just always thought that you hated me.”

...

the two of you were trapped in that little room for a bit, so you were left in an awkward silence, processing your emotions.

you were sitting criss-crossed in front of him, your hands behind you and leaning you up.

"y'know, people are gonna be confused when we get back to alexandria." you chuckle, looking at him with a smile.

"yeah, probably." he returns the smile. "at least we wont be at each others throats anymore."

"definitely." you responded, but your gaze quickly goes toward the window on the door. the walkers had gotten distracted by something and were walking in a different direction from the entrance of the shop.

"carl." you pointed towards the door, standing up quickly.

he nods, walking over to the table in front of the door and peaking to see if the walkers are gone before pushing the table out of the way, quickly grabbing your hand, and making a run for it.

the two of you ran through the door as fast as possible and through the walkers. luckily, you guys were faster than them, and you made it to the car. you practically jumped into the passengers seat, along with carl in the drivers seat, and he floored it back to alexandria.

and you guys still thankfully had your backpacks filled with food and water for the rest of the alexandrians.

and a repaired friendship, plus a newfound relationship.

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[itsabouttimex2]

Hello! I read your Lmk fics and they're awesome! 💗💗💗 If the request are open can I ask one of Yan Macaque wanting Reader as is apprentice or be their mentor but Reader doesn't want to and every time they deny his offer so he tries to convince them? (being the manipulator he is can offer them more power or strength) Thank you so much! 💖

Tough Love

Yandere Mentor Macaque

You know he’s outside. If it isn’t him, it’s one of his shadow clones. Either way, he’s keeping you up again, scratching at the walls and windows of your house. Today is the fourteenth day of this hell, desperately trying to sleep while Macaque tries to force you to come outside and confront him.

There’s a brief lull in the scratching, and right when you think he’s given up, he begins to pound on your window, rattling the frame as he does. You roll over and stuff your face into your pillow, hoping to block out the thunderous noise. In response, it only grows louder and louder. You bear with it for a few minutes, and eventually… it stops entirely.

Then your bed begins to shake.

You jump to your feet as fast as possible, reaching for something to defend yourself with. Instead, you find Macaque’s shadow clones snatching up everything in reach and pulling them away from you, leaving you completely unarmed and off-guard.

Something taps your shoulder, but you don’t turn around. You already know who it is, after all.

“Hey kiddo,” he starts, his voice surprisingly soft and calm. It doesn’t stay that way for long. “Here I was, starting to think you might be ignoring me, or something.” There’s a definite edge to his voice as he finishes, like he’s daring you to confirm his words. Instead, you just stay quiet. It feels like there’s no right words for this situation, nothing you can say to improve your lot.

“Remember when you said you’d think on my offer, bud? I’m still waiting for an answer. Kinda starting to lose my patience, here.”

He taps your shoulder again. An unspoken command is conveyed through that simple motion. Turn around.

You slowly turn on your heel, revealing your weary eyes and tired face to the demon. He clicks his tongue and huffs. “You really don’t know when to give up, huh? I could make you stronger than you ever imagined. I could teach you to protect yourself.”

You take a step forward, ready to protest and argue, to drive in for the final time that you don’t want or need his help.

But he beats you to the punch.

“Can I ask you something, kid? Why do you even bother to say no? Are you scared? Of what? You’ve got no one left, kiddo. I mean, if you did… they’d be here helping you, right? But no. You’re dealing with the big bad demon all alone. And you still won’t give in. So stubborn! You kinda remind me of an old friend of mine, actually. Difference is…”

“He has people who care about him.”

Everything freezes in place, all the color draining from your face as the world goes quiet. You have no retort, no reply, no defense. His expression grows smug, knowing he’s hit a weak spot. He takes a step forward, looming over you to really drive in how powerless you are right now.

“That’s what I can give you, kid. A place to belong. Someone to look out for you. Strength to stand on your own two feet. Why not let me help you? It’s not like anyone else is trying.”

Your throat tightens painfully, and tears prick your eyes. You try to take a few deep breaths, but your dry lips are stuck together. Every time he had made this offer previously, you had argued him to a standstill, countering each of his points with ease. Now, you can’t even breathe right. You can’t even speak.

He chuckles, and reaches out to pat your shoulder. “All alone, huh. Pretty rough feeling, isn’t it? But you don’t have to be alone. Neither of us do. Let me make you something better.” While you’re still unable to resist, he loops his fingers around one of your wrists and drags you outside with him. The shadows roil and writhe with each step he takes. You stumble along after him, only stopping to take a look back at your house.

Somehow, you feel like you won’t be seeing it for a while.

[moonffe]

i lovedddd my lips might've slipped!! please please please make a part 2

ofc. <3

my lips might've slipped

ethan landry pt2

pt1. pt3 warnings: making out, suggestive stuff, arguing, blood. word count: 7k

A/N: the writers block i got while writing this was almost the end of me... came up with a lot of one shot ideas though so I'll be posting those really soon.

“You left him… there.” Quinn repeated after you, looking bored out of her mind like this happened everyday.

“He was being an asshole, Q.”

“You always think he's being an asshole.“ She shook her head with distaste.

You weren't exactly known for being uncomfortable around people. Actually, it was the other way around. But you couldn't look at her as she ambled towards her closet. You felt embarrassed, tracing the rim of your coffee mug with your finger. “That's just how he acts, Y/N. You out of all people should know this.”

“He used to be different.”

This seemed to pique her interest. “In general or towards you?”

You rolled your eyes. “Both.”

“A lot of stuff has changed since we were kids.” She told you, leaving a bag with vials filled with fake blood next to you on the bed. You understood there was privacy in this apartment, but it was risky to leave this kind of stuff just laying there in her closet. How did she do it? “Richie's gone, dad's more distant than usual…”

Quinn bit her lower lip. You hated drawing all the attention to you when she was going through stuff, too.

“You don't need to—”

“It's fine.” She cut you off, her tone slightly aggressive. She cupped your face in her hands and leaned over you before you could stop her. You weren't self-conscious while being this close to her, Quinn was definitely the person you trusted the most. That's exactly why she noticed your lack of eye contact and was now forcing you to look at her. You didn't want to. You had so much shit bottled up you were scared you would start crying. You winced at the idea, stretching your arm to leave your mug on her night table.

“You're amazing, Y/N. I'm not just saying this because I'm your best friend. You really deserve the best out there, and If my asshole brother can't give you that, then move on.” You tried to retort, but her hand quickly slapped over your mouth. Jesus. “If you say you're not into him one more time, I'll jump out that damn window right now.” Her head nodded towards her bedroom's single window. You lured at her, but you could feel your heart hammering inside your ribcage. “You want him, and he wants you back. I'm not stupid and I know my brother— But if he keeps up with all the bullshit, then stop. I love him, but that doesn't make him a better person.”

Your eyes were starting to water, and hers were still fixated on yours. You licked her palm for the fuck of it. Quinn winced, retracting her hand from your face. “Did you have to do that?”

You wiped your damp eyelashes with the side of your wrist, a knot in your throat. “You weren't letting me go.” She snorted, your body barely swaying from her cleaning her palm on your shirt sleeve.

“Still. That ruined my entire speech.” Quinn had to press her lips together to not laugh. You were aware the situation was probably funny, but you couldn't muster a smile.

Her hand covered your mouth again, expression serious. “Understood?” She waited for you to say the words. You surrendered. The fuck else could you do? “Good.”

“I don't want him.” It's the first thing you said when you were able to speak again.

“Are you trying to convince me or yourself? I'll jump out the window, Y/N.”

You sighed, lifting your gaze from the floor to meet her eyes. “Thanks for telling me all that. I'm not sure it helped, but— I appreciate you caring about me and my… complicated relationships with individuals who do not own a uterus. You're a good friend.”

“Best friend.” She ruffled your hair before reclining on the bed, propping herself on her elbows. “Well, are you gonna tell me what happened between the two of you?”

She'd hate you. She'd beat the absolute shit out of you. Your eyes almost widened at the mere thought of telling her— Yeah, you weren't going through that. “Nice try. No.”

“Did you…” Her eyes narrowed, thoughtful. “Get drunk and kiss him?”

“No.”

She elevated her eyebrows. “Did you fuck him?”

“Fuck, Quinn!” Your face scrunched up, she laughed when you threw a pillow straight to her face. “No!”

“Okay, okay!” She glanced away before looking back at you. “Did you maintain sexual intercourse with my brother?”

You had to rub your temples to alleviate your embarrassment. “That made me want to kill myself.”

“So it's a yes.”

“It's a ‘I'm not talking to you for the rest of the night’.”

“You can't talk to the dead.” She reminded you, sighing as she sprawled out on the bed. You mirrored her, lying on your back and staring at the ceiling, fidgeting with the ring around your finger. You missed wearing some of your favorite jewelry, but times were different, and now you had to keep them hidden in your closet. They were gifts from a certain person…

“Go fuck yourself, respectfully.” You shut your eyes closed, a small smile playing on your lips as Quinn's hand slapped over your forehead. She felt up your face until reaching your cheek, your head tilting after she gave it a fake bitch slap.

“I did not take any offense in that.” You couldn't see her face, but the laziness in her voice was obvious.

You stared at the filled bathtub, feeling the weight of your eyelids. Time flew by while you and Quinn were asleep. You usually avoided naps, afraid you'd have that dream again. But this time you were so tired you didn't even think of him. Ethan's presence brought you back to the present. He sprayed fake blood into the water, then turned to you. "You ready?” You hated being this close to him.

“I guess.” You motioned for him to turn around while you took your clothes off and got in the bathtub. You kept your shirt in hand, using it to cover yourself. If you fucking catched him looking at you… “Ready.”

Ethan faced you, eyes briefly lingering downwards before he sighed. “Okay.” He hummed, a small wrinkle forming between his eyebrows as he knelt in front of you, focused on inspecting your torso. “This is gonna hurt.”

“We practiced this.” He nodded, still not looking into your eyes. You had to die. Well, not exactly. The plan was to get injured and just make it look like you almost died.

It would be too convenient if you escaped the apartment clean, and too hard to fake your death like Quinn was. So, since you were such a fucking masochist, you agreed to do this.

Your best friend wasn't as good with a knife like her brother was. He knew what he was doing well enough to not damage anything vital, and you were sure he wasn't evil enough to actually hurt you. "Bring it.”

Was he?

You squeezed his shoulder with all your strength as the blade of his knife found its place beneath your ribs. He pulled you closer, letting you bury your face in his neck. You weren't supposed to scream.

“I know. I know it hurts.” He whispered, fingers sliding through locks of your hair. He was trying to comfort you, anyone would in this situation, but the glare you showed him made the look on his face change. He let go of you. “Have it your way, sweetheart.”

You frowned at the pet name. “I'm bleeding. Do you mind?”

“I stayed on the side and didn't go too deep, Y/N. You're not gonna bleed out.” He spat, applying fake blood to your leg. His hand ran over your skin to disperse it over your shin. He had an attitude, you could see it on his face, but he was still being careful.

“And? It still hurts.” You said, trying to hide how damn flustered you were actually getting.

Your hand remained hardly grasping your shirt, trying to keep it in place. Ethan's eyes met yours after you flinched at the cold blood. He looked away, but his gaze returned to your hands after a while. You didn't like it. “What?”

“You’re shaking.” He mentioned. Discreetly, you checked. Your fingers trembled around your shirt, but he shook his head before you could retaliate. “I'm not looking.” His voice was soft, but your personality wasn't.

“You are, though.” And he probably was. Why the hell would he mention it, then?

He gave you a look, but continued with his work. You were trying to relax, you really were, but his touch was making you feel things. The fabric of his gloves touching you with so much gentleness like you were made of porcelain. It was actions that mattered, not words. His thumb traced up your arm, softly pressing on your shoulder. His eyebrows furrowed. “Did you get that mole removed?”

“Ethan.” You grumbled.

He sat back, looking distraught for a second before he made up his mind and met your gaze. “Was it for that guy?” He asked. You could only close your eyes, trying not to snap. “I'm dead serious, Y/N. I want to know.”

You weren't supposed to talk about anything that could or couldn't have happened in the past. And specifically, of how he could know about that mole. “What guy?”

“Johnny.” He choked out. “Your asshole ex.”

You opened your eyes and realized he was, in fact, being serious. His demeanor solemn as he stared, waiting for you to answer him like you didn't have a fucking agreement. “Surprised you remember him.”

“I remember when it comes to you.” His words made your cheeks heat up, though you weren't sure if it was out of surprise or embarrassment.

“What does he have to do with any of this?”

“Did you get it removed for him?” He looked at your shoulder, a vein throbbing on his jaw. “I liked that mole.”

“I don't know, was Tate dressing up for you at the Halloween party?”

He almost looked like he wanted to deny it, but couldn't bring himself up to the task. “Do you care?”

“It's the second time you ask me that.” You paused, and decided to shoot him back. “When it comes to you, I care.”

“Is it bad that I like the sound of that?” He asked, his voice husky. It made your breath hitch.

“Just answer the question.”

“I don't know— Maybe? I didn't ask her to.”

“That's kinda obvious.” It was. But you still wanted to know if it was fucking intentional. “It would be weird.”

“What? Ask my girlfriend to dress up for me?” He chuckled, his amusement tinged with sarcasm. “It would be plain abusive.”

Girlfriend. Your jaw clenched, you couldn't keep living like this. Why did it hurt so much? Why did it hurt so much to know he did exactly what you asked him to? He got over you, and you were still the same idiot that drooled over him every time he was nice to you. You hated him.

“You know who'd do that?”

Ethan noticed the change of tone in your voice, so he just hummed in response, wanting to avoid an argument. But by that moment, it was your only way of protecting yourself. Of trying to take your heart away from his reach. “Your dad.”

“You always say that.” You noticed how much you got to him by how forcefully he put the vial down. He leaned in, fingers threading through your hair to make it look like you fought back.

“Am I wrong?”

“No.” He paused, his voice wavering. He was struggling to maintain his composure, and you were enjoying it. “But he's my father, and I'm nothing like that man. It's offensive.”

“Nothing like him?” You raised an eyebrow, challenging him. He met your gaze with conviction, looking like he was about to snap at you.

“Nothing like him.”

“I thought you helped him kill your mom.”

“It's different.” He assured you, a flicker of pain crossing his features. You weren't falling for that shit.

“But you have a relationship with him.”

“Not the relationship I'd like.”

Your teeth caught your lower lip as he got busy again. He applied blood on his gloves for realism, rubbing his palms together to spread it over the black fabric. It wasn't hard for you to notice the missing item, since you were pretty much devouring him with your eyes.

You were unaware that you voiced your thoughts out loud until his eyes focused on you. You felt your heart drop to your stomach.

“What?” He inquired, confused.

“Tate's hair tie.”

He just stared at you for a while, lowering his head ever so slightly. “Right.” You frowned.

“Did you guys get into an argument or something?” You were sure the answer was no, but him exhaling took you by surprise.

“It's stupid.”

“What did you do?”

“We were kissing and… I don't know, I was drunk. Mixed things up and called her by your name.”

His confession made your face fall. “Is that supposed to be romantic? Because it doesn't fucking feel like it.”

“She said no strings attached.” He glowered at you.

“Then why did you take it off?”

“Because she was mad.” He bit his lower lip, playing with the lace of his left boot to avoid looking at you. “I never— I never felt something for her, Y/N. But I think she started falling in love with me.”

No, no, no, no— You weren't sitting through that shit. Your best friend was one wall away, if you could just… “Quinn!” You shouted, but his bloody glove clamped over your mouth. When the fuck did he get that close to you?

“No, listen.” He groaned. ”You can't just always push me away.”

You moved your head to the side to push his hand away. His nose only inches away from touching yours. He was breathing heavily, and you were ashamed to admit it was making you nervous, he was making you nervous. “I don't wanna hear it, Ethan.”

“Can you give me one chance?” He begged, his hands moved to the wall, pinning you against it. “Just one fucking chance to talk?”

You started feeling dizzy while his eyes were on yours, and you realized you forgot to breathe. How to breathe. Fuck, you were weak. “Go on.” You wheezed.

“Thank you, I—” He swallowed. “I never felt something for her. I never felt… anything since we broke up. That's why I was using Tate. Because I was trying to feel something, I was trying to feel alive again—”

“So you just used her?” You cut him off, you were gripping your shirt against your bare body for dear life. “Like she was disposable.”

“I never thought you out of all people would care about that.” You rolled your eyes. He grabbed your chin to stop you from looking away from him. “We said no strings attached, Y/N. It couldn't even be called a relationship— It wasn't one. We would just make out and I would go as her date at parties.”

“You still looked pretty damn close.” You huffed, jealousy clouding your senses. “I don't wanna know about how you switched saliva with that bitch—”

“You just asked me to tell you!” He protested, your hand slapping over his mouth. You stayed silent, trying to get a clue on what was going on outside. It was very faint, but you could hear the group still yapping and laughing.

“If they hear you, it's over.” You grimaced.

“I'm sorry.” He coed.

“It's fine…” A low sigh escaped your lips, the soft fabric of his cloak between your fingers as you absentmindedly adjusted the hood.

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because you asked me.”

“But you never told me anything before.” You paused, locking eyes with him. His big, earnest brown eyes that held rare vulnerability. You wanted to kiss him. “Why is it different this time?”

His fingers traveled up your arms, cradling your wrists tenderly as they were still pressed against his neck. “You know why.” He murmured, a tinge of pain underlying his words, causing your guts to twist and turn inside of you. Then you realized maybe they actually were. You still had a cut on your side.

“We're not good for each other.”

Ethan grimaced, shaking his head. “You keep saying that, but you're the only person I've felt something for—”

“Do you want me or need me, Ethan?” You interrupted him, he looked confused for a second. “Because they're two different things. And if you need me, it's not love.”

“I need you because I want you.” His face held a sense of urgency. What did he want you to say?

“What do you think is going to happen? If the same thing from last time repeats itself—”

“We'll get through it.” He nodded his head, his features shifting to show a crazed, desperate glimmer in his eyes that made him look out of his mind. “I want a future with you. I want you. Just you. Please, just— just think about it, alright? Please, let me… just let me…”

His plea hung in the air when you pressed your mouth on his. He groaned, his soft lips easily returning the kiss. The two of you grinned when he lost balance and you had to hold his shoulders, keeping him in place. He was still on his knees, after all.

His tongue slipped into your mouth, gliding and rubbing over yours. Your fingers tangled between his messy curls, fingertips fondling his scalp and making him kiss you even more eagerly. It was slow, but you could tell he had been wanting to do that for a long time. Ethan let out a sound, and you questioned if it was a sob or he was just really enjoying himself. Did he really miss you that much? To cry the second you kissed him? His muscular arms snaked around your body, the softness of his cloak against your bare, cold skin feeling like heaven on earth to you.

He was holding you like you would disappear if he let go, and maybe he was right. Ethan was addictive. He was like a drug you couldn't get enough of, and you were just wondering what would happen when he walked out that door and you found yourself alone, feeling guilty for falling into temptation.

“You're ready.” His lips were wet and he was breathing hard when he pressed his forehead against your own. You gave a small hum to acknowledge his words. “Remember the plan?”

You hummed again. “I need to leave you now.”

“Alright.” You finally opened your eyes, a little too bewitched by the boy in front of you for your brain to have any logical structure. His minty breath hit your lips as he leaned in, pressing a quick kiss to your lips you gladly reciprocated.

He stood up straight and grabbed the empty vials from the floor while you recollected your thoughts, a nauseous sensation sweeping over your stomach at the thoughts your brain was, for some reason, forming.

What if something happened to him? “If they hurt you, I'll slit their fucking throat.”

Ethan bit his lip to hold back a smile, his knee bumping against your calf. “Didn't consider you a romantic.” He stared down at you, his grin was contagious.

“I prefer the term psychotic, but thanks anyway.”

His gloved hand affectionately ruffled your hair, sliding down to your cheek as his lips pressed a kiss on it. “Try not to move too much, alright? I promise I'll make you dinner after this is over.”

You snorted, your hands finding place in his lightly muscular chest as you pulled him down to your height. He finally gave in, revealing a set of white, straight teeth as he smiled. “You're gonna burn the house down.”

You had a lot of memories of sixteen year old Ethan trying to cook, he was a fire hazard near a stove.

“We'll order takeout, then." He said in a low tone, giving your forehead one last kiss. Then your temple, then your lips. “It's a promise.” You watched him rise from the floor and leave, chewing on your lip as you heard the faint voices of him and his sister arguing about something.

Quinn was bloody and ready, they just had to start making noise to catch the group’s attention. Your breathing slowly increased in pace as the realization of what just happened started hitting you. You shouldn't have kissed him, you shouldn't have let him kiss you, you practically just told him yes—

Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit. You threw your shirt aside and groaned in pain. You definitely couldn't move much with a wound that big. Successfully grabbing your phone from the floor, you saw Quinn's text.

Took him a while to leave. Everything alright?

Not really.

Your finger tapped on the side of your phone impatiently. Come on. Come on, come on, come on— you sighed when she started typing.

Did he try something?

We kissed.

Was it consensual?

Yes. That's why i feel so fucking shitty. I shouldn't have.

We'll talk about this later alright? I need to get out there.

Okay.

You laid back on the bathtub and your face scrunched up. Fuck, it was hurting you. Was it pathetic that you couldn't even feel the pain before because you were busy worrying about Ethan? It probably was. He was still in your mind, he had been since you were seventeen.

There was a reason why you broke up, a reason why you tried to avoid him all these months. Guess you can't fall out of love with someone this fast, you had no idea why you thought you could achieve that. It was Ethan Kirsch we were talking about. That made it even harder.

Your eyes couldn't stare at the white ceiling for much longer, you were starting to blink a lot and you somehow feeling yourself losing blood. You didn't know if that was possible, or you were starting to hallucinate. Only thing you knew for sure, is you were dizzy as fuck. There were screams and thuds resonating through the thin walls of the apartment, the sounds of footsteps and running.

You weren't sure of how much time passed since Ethan left, but the voices and slams on the door became closer, a lot louder. Your eyes were starting to open again at the closeness of the noises. Someone called your name. Screamed your name, actually. It wasn't hard for you to recognize Mindy's voice. You blinked, trying to adjust to the lighting of the bathroom as Chad's sister noticed the crimson water in the bathtub, panting.

“Fuck, you gotta come with us!” Her eyes drifted somewhere else and yours followed. Sam was holding the door to the living room, with your ex-boyfriend relentlessly pounding on it. She looked horrified.

“Help her put something on. Fast!” She commanded, Mindy nodded and attempted to help you out of the water, but you kept shaking your head and pushing her arms away.

“I can't walk, I can't walk, I can't walk…”

“You're gonna die if you stay here!” Sam yelled.

Mindy choked out a breath, grabbing your pile of clothes from the floor. “I'm sorry about Quinn, but you need to come with us!”

“I can't— I won't. He thinks I'm dead.”

“With all the screaming, no, he doesn't anymore!” Sam ran towards you, hugging your shoulders to pull you out of the water. Mindy's eyes were wide and her hand was clutching at the wound on her arm after leaving you to put your underwear and shirt back on. Ethan was banging on the door harder every time, and Sam was starting to get impatient.

You rushed into Quinn's room and your jaw flew open at the sight of Anika bleeding that much. What did Ethan do to her?

The door creaked as it broke. Sam dashed into Quinn's room, and she and Mindy barricaded it with a closet. Your gaze shifted to Sam's boyfriend, staring at you and Anika bleeding out from the other window. Billy's daughter was looking for a way out, and you weren't exactly sure of what was happening while you stared at the door, wondering how much it would take Ethan to break it like the past one. Anika was whimpering, your arm wrapping around her absentmindedly.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Sam panted, catching your attention. Ethan was taking too long… And Danny was using a… ladder. To help you cross. What the fuck? “You three go first!” Sam turned to you. You glanced at Mindy, who looked offended.

“Someone needs to hold the door, Sam! Anika and Y/N are losing blood!” She shouted. “Go!”

“Shit…” Sam gave you a look before going first. Mindy was still holding the door, and Anika clutched her stomach, trying to contain as much blood as possible. You started blinking, feeling cold sweat run down your temples. You laid back on the bed, knowing you had to stay conscious for this to work. Mindy wasn't getting away from the door…

“I'll hold it.” You offered, stumbling with your own feet as you got up.

“You're practically dying, I'm not leaving you to do this!” She scowled, but you ignored her words and still stood next to her, pushing the closet onto the door.

“So now you're being nice to me?” You bit the inside of your cheek, because you knew this was probably the last time you'd see her.

“I was wrong.” She choked out, giving you a nod. No, she wasn't. Sam yelled for someone to go next. You and Mindy looked at Anika. She was the closest to passing out.

You started falling asleep before waking up again, you had to wait for Anika to get a little closer to Danny's window… when your eyes opened, you realized you fell asleep for another second. Shit. You glanced back, seeing Ethan's arm fully in the room and swinging his knife through the small opening of the door. You glared at Mindy. If she pushed back one more time, she was going to fucking hurt him.

You faked passing out, collapsing sideways to push her down onto the floor. Ethan kicked the door open after you landed on top of Mindy. She struggled to push you from on top of her, but she managed to... without enough time to get to the window. Sam and Anika's screams echoed as Ethan's hands closed around Mindy's neck, choking her right beside you.

You opened your eyes, seeing hers widen. Mindy's lips parted as if to yell something, but Ethan slammed her down on the floor, pressing harder on her neck until she gradually stopped fighting back. Her arms fell limp, and you glanced up at him. Anika was next.

You were faking being passed out, so you didn't really know what was going on until a loud thud reached your ears. Holy shit. Did she fall?

You stayed still, listening to Ethan's footsteps with your eyes closed. He knelt down beside you, you caught your lower lip between your teeth.

"Good girl." He praised, caressing your cheek with two of his gloved fingers. He forgot to turn off his voice changer.

“Do you think they're going at it?” Ethan's head turned to look at you, arms folded across his stomach. His chest rose and fell softly with each breath, the Christmas lights that took you half an hour to untangle and install in Quinn's car hitting his face directly.

You knew he was cold— you could tell. But he wasn't saying it out loud. You felt guilty. He told you to bring thicker blankets, but you completely forgot with how much your best friend kept rambling about her new boyfriend while you packed for your road trip.

Your forehead wrinkled as you munched on a Skittle, nodding emphatically “Is that even a question? Definitely.”

Ethan reached for a handful of candy from the bowl in your hands, propping himself on an elbow. “You think? I thought they only came here because he wanted to know the woods.”

You rolled your eyes, his expression curious as he chewed. “You know Quinn.”

“But I don't know the guy.”

“He's probably a jock who just wants sex, Eth. They all are. and Quinn is…” You squinted, searching for words. “Quinn.”

“Don't call her that.” He protested, pausing mid-movement to glare at you.

“Don't look at me like that.” You retorted, bringing the bowl to your chest to protect it from him. Ethan stared at you through his long eyelashes, apathetic. You let out a groan when he reached out to grab something behind you, his chest inadvertently ending up above your legs. “Personal space, mister.”

“I just want my water…” He grumbled under his breath, the two of you sharing a menacing look after he sat up straight again.

“She's my best friend. I know her more than you do.”

“Is that so?” He twisted the cap open, challenging you. “How?”

“You're like… okay, let's put it this way. You're family.” The way he rolled his eyes made you crack a smile. He looked adorable with his tousled, curly hair imprinted by the pillow. The two of you had woken up from a two-hour nap just about ten minutes ago, and you were a sucker for freshly awake, moody Ethan. “Would she tell your dad what she did last night with a guy she found at a party? No. You're the younger sibling, it's the same principle.”

“She tells me things.” He sounded almost offended, suddenly forgetting he was about to take a sip of his water.

“Yeah, PG-rated things.”

“I'm eighteen.”

“And? Wait til you're 21 to brag about your age.”

He shook his head slightly, wiping his mouth with his wrist. “You're not even 21 yet.”

“Do you see me flexing about my age? No.”

Ethan let out a sigh, probably tired of your shit already and grabbed his pillow, laying his head down on it again. You felt your face fall as your features softened. Maybe you were a little too harsh on him. You stared, because he was probably the most beautiful guy you'd met. The dark circles under his eyes were noticeable, pale skin almost translucent.

He was worried, and him being worried made you worried, so… that was inconvenient. Richie left Modesto with Sam the day before, and while you trusted him to man the fuck up and make things go as planned, Ethan didn't.

“He's gonna be alright, Eth.” You reassured him.

“Why did we come here?” He mumbled, your heart twinging at his small sniff of him. You should've brought the extra blankets…

You delicately caressed his cheek, his eyes surrendering to your apologetic touch. You felt more confident in fondling his skin and feeling the warmth beneath your fingertips. If you could just… Your thumb brushed over his lower lip before you leaned in, pressing a kiss to his soft forehead.

“Quinn's supposed to be with me, so I can't be home or your dad will suspect she lied. And as for you…” You paused, and Ethan's lips began to twitch into a wide smile, eliciting a chuckle from you. “Consider it a favor, you never go out.”

“Oh, yeah?” He teased, his eyes lazily opening. “That's sweet.”

“Never sweeter than you, baby girl.” You caressed his lower lip, his eyes rolling as he pushed your hand away. “You're mean to me.” You showed him a pout, and he just shook his head.

“Deal with it.”

You tugged at his blanket to discover part of his chest, getting a frown you completely ignored when you turned around, showing him your back. Quinn was a few cars away from you, but far enough so you couldn't hear or know what was going in there.

You almost winced. Not like you wanted to know. Apparently this was a popular place for people to come and hook up. You were just closing your eyes and hoping you wouldn't hear anything. Even finding a racoon would probably be better than that shit.

"It would probably be uncomfortable." Ethan mused after a while, and you got on your side to frown at him.

"Are we still discussing this?" Your smile immediately faded at his raised eyebrows. "Uhm— It's cold, they'd freeze."

"Not big enough to move."

"What if a fox saw the lights and started scratching the door in the middle of it?" Ethan frowned before the two of you chuckled. At least you were making him laugh now. You were a bad friend.

"If there's not a blanket under them, it'll hurt their backs." You didn't give it much thought before nodding in agreement, eyes slowly drifting downwards to look at the blanket beneath the two of you. The idea that popped up in your head scared you. He was telling you this because… Lifting your chin again, Ethan's gaze met yours, and next thing you knew, he leaned in, kissing you.

You immediately wrapped your arms around his neck, your hands finding his hair and playing with it while he stretched his arm to grab his pillow. His arms wrapped around your waist to have support of your body and lay your head on the pillow, your back pressing against the fuzzy blanket. His thighs straddled your legs. “Is this okay?” He breathed out, looking down at you, but he didn't seem to have any intention of stopping.

You answered by firmly pressing your lips onto his again. Ethan grunted into the kiss, returning it like his life depended on it. His body was so soft and comfortable against yours, you barely felt any pain when he grabbed both your wrists and pinned them above your head with one hand, but it was still uncomfortable. “Eth, my hair…” He stopped, noticing his arms pressing down on your hair.

“Shit, I'm sorry.” He quickly apologized, eyes darting from your lips to your eyes. “Are you alright?”

“I'll be if you keep going.” He nodded, obeying. Your thoughts weren't the clearest thing at the moment. You wanted this so much and you had been wanting it for a long time, the feeling was similar to being high. Even better. This was it. You had him. He had you. You lost yourself in all the caressing, mind clouding with the feeling of him, the touch of his fingertips on your neck and his big hand wrapping around your susceptible throat as he kissed you.

His body weight on yours was taking the air out of your lungs, but the feeling of being helpless only helped increase the violent hammering of your heart inside your ribcage. You adored him. Every single inch of him. You were panting, the heat all the pillows and blankets around the two of you were providing making you sweat badly.

You helped him pull his black hoodie over his head, his bare arms squeezing you against him immediately after. "I'll take care of you, okay? Just relax." He kissed the corner of your mouth, lips trailing down to press gentle kisses onto your neck. You threw your head back, Quinn's pink knit sweater just lying there in the driver's seat, making your mouth go dry.

Why did she leave it there? As a reminder? A reminder that the two of you shouldn't be doing anything weird because you were just friends? Because the person who was kissing your neck right now was your best friend's younger brother? No, you were just being paranoid. That was straight up fucking schizophrenic.

"You're not letting me lay you down." He uttered in a low, guttural tone. You glared at his words.

"Because I'm comfortable like this."

"With your elbows flexing like that?" He withdrew his mouth from your neck, staring up at you, out of breath. "Really?"

"Are you mad at me right now?" You inquired. Ethan looked away before starting to get up. "Can you please not—"

"No."

"What did I do!?"

"Nothing," he snarled. You sighed as he offered his hands to help you up. Taking them, you brought your legs to your chest awkwardly. It was clear he wanted answers with how he stared at you, and he knew you too well to lie to him. "What's wrong?"

"It doesn't... feel right." You choked out, glaring up at his face, and wishing he would understand. Ethan looked taken aback but quickly recovered.

"This doesn't feel right?"

"Yeah."

"Is it because of me?" He asked, and the look you gave him was offended.

"No, of course not. But you're Quinn's—"

"Brother, yeah. She doesn't care." His eyes narrowed. Was he fucking mocking you right now?

"How do you know?"

"It's Quinn."

"Don't be saying that about my best friend.”

Ethan's jaw clenched, it took him a moment to collect himself before he looked away from your face, exhaling the breath he was holding. “Alright.”

“Alright.” You agreed.

The two of you fell silent, focusing anywhere else that wasn't each other. Ethan fidgeted with the blanket, eyes on your phone laying next to the candy bowl. You stared at the rings wrapped around your fingers, chewing on your lip. You had to get up— you knew that. One of the two of you would eventually have to.

This was the smartest decision, and yet you felt empty. Like you had just closed the door that led to the single thing you had dreamt about for years but weren't able to get. It was alright, you tried to tell yourself. You had a friendship to keep. A great one.

Ethan knew the good and bad parts of you. He had seen you at your lowest, and he still stayed. Why? Because he was your friend. Your best friend. The one boy you had shared everything with. But if that was true, then why was there a difference in what you felt toward Richie and Ethan? Richie was your friend, and Ethan was... something more.

Your chest caved and squeezed your heart as you sighed. The little sound caught the brunet’s attention, prompting you to look up at his zealous face too. It took two seconds of eye contact for the two of you to start making out. Again. You rolled on the blanket a few times, almost dislodging the Christmas lights with how much the two of you were moving. You were on top when Ethan pushed your shoulders, his face scrunched up.

“This is wrong.”

You breathed heavily, confused. “What? Why?”

“I should be taking you to a hotel.” His grip on your shirt tightened, but he looked more mad at himself than at you as he tried to catch his breath. “For starters.”

“Oh my god, Ethan! Why would you—”

“Listen to me.” He demanded. His hands slid from your waist to your cheek, cupping your face in his hands. “We don't even have—”

“I'm on the pill.” You spoke over him. He paused, but he didn't look phased at all.

“That's only 87% effective.” Ethan's lips twitched, displeased, confusing you.

“How do you know that?”

He shook his head, delicately tucking away strands of your hair. “I wanted to be informed when this happened.”

“You were waiting for this to happen!?” The red creeping up to his face made you know you probably came off more panicked than you intended to. Shit.

“Weren't you?” He tried to play it off miserably. You moved away from on top of him, looking around for your missing shirt desperately.

“No. I was just praying every day it wouldn't.”

“Does that mean you—” He hesitated as he swallowed, sitting up. His eyes never left your face, looking vulnerable. Those angel eyes looked so fucking vulnerable you just wanted to hug him. But wasn't this an argument? You had to make up your mind. You found your shirt, but you didn't even care anymore. “Is this a one night stand? I mean— Are we doing this just because we feel like It, or is this your way to say you love me back?”

A shiver ran down your spine at his words. Fuck, no… “Put your hoodie on.” You groaned, and Ethan looked away from you frustratedly

The only reason you weren't answering him was because you were scared. This wasn't supposed to happen, at least not that soon…

“I do love you, Ethan.” The words just slipped out of your lips, surprising both of you. He raised his head, making sure you weren't joking. “And I don't want to break your heart.”

“You will if we keep living like this.” He admitted. “What's stopping you?”

You tried to not look down, you really did, but you were too much of a coward to not start playing with your rings. “Honestly? It's too messy. I don't want things to get weird with Quinn—”

“She doesn't care, Y/N.” He interjected, and you closed your eyes in frustration. That's what he always said, but you couldn't know for sure. You didn't want to find out. “If anything, I think she would be happy you chose someone she approves of.”

“I'm gonna fuck up my relationship with Quinn if this goes wrong…” You rubbed your temples, but looked up at the silence coming from him. He looked tense, like he was about to burst out the car and murder the first person he saw. You moved away slightly, contemplating.

You'd go to hell if you admitted out loud you found that attitude of his… enticing. He let out a breath when he saw you crawling towards him. His arms snaked around you, holding you close and lifting you slightly to move you onto his lap. “Don't be mad.”

“I'm not.” He crooned, you winced slightly as his nose pressed into the curve of your bare neck, next to your bra strap. He took in a deep breath.

“Sure.” You gripped the back of his black tank top, trying to relax. “You'll be wrinkled all over by the time you're 40 if you keep frowning.”

“I'm not mad at you, Y/N.” He repeated, he looked honest as his watery eyes met yours. Why did he look like he wanted to cry?

“And that's it?” You questioned. “I'm supposed to calm down because you told me it'd be okay?”

“Am I lying? Quinn's gonna be happy for us, I know that. But if you don't feel ready… then we can hide it.” He nodded solemnly, you raised an eyebrow.

“So, what? Am I like your lover now?”

“No.” He cringed, you let out a chuckle as he stopped caressing you. “That's not what I meant— We can just stay low for now. Not tell anyone about us.”

He waited, and after a moment of pondering, you sighed. You just had to look for the right moment to tell Quinn. You'd be more prepared by then. “Okay.”

Ethan's lips parted, curls wiggling as he nodded. You didn't know why he was like this, but you had to calm him down. You always had to. Ethan was aggressive, that was obvious. But he also used to be so sensitive.

“It's alright, Eth. It's alright…” You grabbed his face, staring at his big expressive eyes before pressing your mouth on his tenderly. Ethan muttered a "thank you" before slowly burying his face into your neck again. You felt his soft eyelashes against your skin as he closed his eyes, arms squeezing your waist.

[ghostinthegallery]

“This isn’t the end” for Tarzyn/Orikan (bonus points for necrontyr era)

Next prompt request! CW for discussion of cancer/oncological stuff.

###

The ink pot shattered when it hit the floor, spilling a pool of black across the stone tiles. Trazyn cursed, began reaching down to pick up the ceramic remains, but his long sleeve caught the edge of the paper on which he had been writing. That fell too, landing in the dark puddle. Ink saturated the page, erasing hours of calligraphic work.

”Damn it,” Trazyn swore. “Damn it, damn it, damn it!”

Most of his blasphemy was not towards the ruined page, although that was frustrating. No, primarily he cursed at his hand which refused to stop shaking. 

“It will only get worse, I am afraid,” the oncomancer had said. “Motor function will fail first.”

First, which implied something else had to fail second. Trazyn tried to forget the whole conversation as he grabbed a rag to clean his mess. It was well past midnight, so he could not summon a servant to deal with this. He had come to the palace’s library this late specifically for privacy. So that no one would see the difficulty he had holding a pen or a brush. He wanted to be able to take his time, wait out the tremors and maybe finish some of his work before he—

“Having some difficulty, old man?”

Trazyn’s heart sank. Of course if anyone had to see him like this, hunched on his knees, turquoise robes stained with black splotches it would be him.

”Orikan.” Trazyn sat up, tucked his hand into his sleeve to hide its quivering. “You’re up awfully late. Are the stars going to tell you about the weather next decan? Or perhaps some scion has asked to pick out their most auspicious marriage prospect? I hear you’ve become quite an adept matchmaker lately.”

Orikan’s brow wrinkled in annoyance, disturbing the single eye tattooed across his forehead. There were other such marks, cryptek nonsense, scrawled like tears down his cheeks, around his neck, and along his arms. Those were the only ones Trazyn had seen, though he imagined there were more, hidden under the white and blue robes draped loosely over Orikan’s frame.

”You lords are a petty sort,” Orikan said. “That I am forced to indulge you is a trial, but one well worth it given the benefits to my actual work. And at least I am not stuck copying old poetry like some temple scribe.”

Normally, Trazyn would have come up with some retort. Pointed out that he was in fact reproducing the last illustrated copy of the The Book of Sixes, the earliest recorded example of necrontyr poetry written in hexameter. And Orikan would have rolled his eyes and they would have argued until some other scholar came and shushed them, but tonight Trazyn could hardly summon the will to speak at all. 

“Perhaps it is a waste of time,” he said, looking at the ink-soaked page. “When one doesn’t even know how much time is left.”

“I see old age has made you melancholy,” Orikan scoffed.

Trazyn did not feel as if he had been alive enough to be called old. Just a handful of decades. How could that be considered old? The Old Ones, damn them, had lived millennia and more. They were old. Not him. 

He had outlived so many of his contemporaries and still it was not enough. 

“You will no doubt be thrilled to hear that barring unexpected circumstances you will be the victor in our rivalry,” Trazyn said. “I will not be able to defend myself from the tomb.”

“Stop raving.” Orikan walked past the shelves of datascrolls and paper manuscripts to stand over him. “I always did suspect the sun was taking your wits.”

”Not my wits just yet.” Trazyn lifted his hand and let the silk fall away to reveal his trembling fingers. 

Orikan’s eyes went wide. “What is this?”

“They say the sun attacks the limbs of the worker, the heart of the warrior, and the brain of a scholar..” Trazyn let out a bark of mirthless laughter. “The oncomancers say the larger turmor is growing against the nerve center governing voluntary muscle function. That will go first. Once I can barely move, my memory will likely desert me next, then speech, and then—”

“Stop.”

To Trazyn’s shock, Orikan dropped to his knees. He seized Trazyn’s quivering hand, tightening his grip until it was almost painful. Dark ink soaked the diviner’s white robe.

“Coward,” Orikan hissed. “You think you can escape our conflict so easily? A martyr, taken in his prime by sunsickness. How convenient for you.”

Despair shifted into anger. “I did not develop a brain tumor to spite you, astromancer,” Trazyn snapped. “Nor can I will it away.” His breath hitched. “I am going to die. I am going to die soon, with so much left unfinished.”

“You are not going to die.” Orikan leaned forward, dropped his voice so low Trazyn struggled to hear him. 

“Is that what the stars tell you?” Trazyn said. “I fear they’ve deceived you.”

“You are not going to die,” Orikan repeated. “None of us are.”

The scent of perfumed incense filled Trazyn’s nose. Orikan always smelled of incense and clean night air. It was one of the most irritating things about him. He was uncouth, uncultured, abrasive, spiteful. And brilliant. Tenacious. Beautiful. Half of the time Trazyn wasn’t sure if he wanted to strangle him or—

“Orikan—” Trazyn began.

Orikan grabbed the beaded front of Trazyn’s robe and yanked him forward. Their lips crashed together. The kiss took him off guard, but he did not pull away, even as the force of it pressed painfully against his teeth. The warmth of Orikan’s mouth, the taste of him, drove out all other thoughts. For a brief second he forgot anger and despair and death.

”What do you mean,” he muttered against Orikan’s lips. “None of us will die?”

”The Silent King has a plan,” Orikan replied, wrapping his hand around Trazyn’s neck, deepening the next kiss. “He has found the power to take the secrets of immortality denied to us. He has asked me to read the plan’s future, but he is sure it will work. And when it does…” Orikan looked into Trazyn’s eyes, his gaze piercing and green. “This isn’t the end. Don’t you dare leave me or let that damned tumor take you because this is not the end.”

“Why Orikan,” Trazyn said. “I didn’t realize you cared.”

“I care about proving once and for all that you are a vainglorious fool.” Orikan huffed. “I cannot do that if you retreat into death.”

Trazyn pressed his hand against Orikan’s cheek, drew him back into another kiss. More gentle this time. 

“I’d best survive until then,” Trazyn said.

His knees hurt from being forced against the stone floor, but Trazyn did not care. There was always a little pain when it came to Orikan. He wouldn’t know what to do with himself without it.

It seemed too good to be true. An end to death, to suffering, all the time Trazyn could ever want. Alongside a rival who would ensure not a single moment of immortality was dull. He was not sure he believed it. Coming from anyone else he would have considered it madness. But this was Orikan. The stargazer was a fool in many ways, but in this moment, Trazyn believed him.

For the first time in years, Trazyn felt true hope. This would not be the end. Not of him. Not of his work. Not of the necrontyr. 

And, as Orikan dragged him up from the floor with a strength that belied his slender frame, Trazyn realized this was not the end of their night together either.

[staring-at-my-keyboard]

Chatting over Dinner

An isolated moment shared between a family, some of which are interdimensional travelers.

୨⎯✎✎⎯୧

Just a Gravity Falls Blind Faith AU snippet that was the result of me wondering about the character dynamics of the BF twins and the Pines after said twins stumbled through one of the scattered rifts that the Pines were fixing in 'Lost Legends'.

୨⎯✎✎⎯୧

Fluff

Comedy

TWs:

⇾ none!

Blind Faith twins: Sixer & Lee

Canon Mystery Twins Classic: Ford & Stan

୨⎯✎✎⎯୧

“So I says: ‘Which one of us here has more eyes?’ Then wham! He stabs me!” Lee recounted, punctuating himself by slamming a fist on the table, causing the silverware to rattle. Mabel gasped, and the Fords jumped.

Sixer frowned. “Not h-how it- it- it went… at all.”

“That’s how it went because I say that’s how it went,” Lee argued flatly. “Tell me again, which one of us goes on useless rambles about the 'inherent non-existence of objective truth' or whatever the hell?”

“N- not in th-this… this instance.” Sixer retorted.

“What, so stuff is only up in the air if it’s convenient for you? Like that one time you denied eating all the walrus butter?” 

Sixer opened his mouth, paused, then sank back in his chair, tips of his ears red.

“Uh-huh. I thought so.”

“Walrus… butter?” Dipper cocked his head.

“Kinda similar to peanut butter, believe it or not- at least in that dimension. It was for seeing stuff that normally wouldn’t exist with normal human eyes, even ones like this-“ Stan gestured to his bionic one with one hand and shoveled potatoes into his mouth with the other, with a mumbled ‘damn these are good.’

“Woah! Ford never mentioned anything like that!” Dipper enthused. “Can you tell me more?���

Stan said something through his food that was along the lines of ‘Can you let a guy eat a meal first?’, although it came out more like “C’n y’l guy eath’meal f’rth?”

“How did you acquire that, by the way?” Ford inquired, gesturing to Lee’s eye while halfway through eating a tomato like an apple. “I’ve found precious few worlds whose cybernetic offerings even rarely cater to the human body, much less a part of it as complicated as the eye.”

“Well, Sixer here made it for me!” Lee answered, practically glowing with pride. “He even retrofitted it with heat and night vision! Pretty awesome, if I do say so myself.”

“Really?” Ford leaned towards his counterpart. “Do you still have the schematics? If so, you’ll have to show me at some point. I’ve always struggled with combining biology and technology harmoniously, but you’ve done a wonderful job here.”

“See, that’s what I keep telling ‘im, but for some reason he insists on disagreeing with me.” Lee tutted.

“Could… could be b- b- better.” Sixer mumbled. 

Lee let out an exasperated sigh.

“Well, yes, everything could be better, but that doesn’t negate the quality of its existence in the present,” Ford reassured, before standing and leaning over the table towards an increasingly confused Lee. “Regardless of what may be missing, this is still remarkable! I wouldn’t even know where to begin in suggesting improvement! If I could…”

Ford came dangerously close to just manhandling Lee’s face before Stan grabbed his sweater and hauled him back down into his seat.

He swatted the back of Ford’s head. “Give a man some space, you dork,” Stan turned to Lee apologetically. “Sorry about him.”

“Please. Do you know how many times my Ford has just randomly grabbed my face when he thought my eye was glitching? Plot twist: it never was.”

Both Fords groaned.

[yeowangies]

Good evening! Can I request a short nsfw prompt #41 for Trunks where his girlfriend flashes him in public?

PAIRING: Trunks/Reader RATING: Mature CONTENTS: Implied sexual content, implied car sex, some teasing. WORDCOUNT: 1893

Notes:

This is the shortest thing I can write, and I actually really like how it turned out.

I had future!Trunks in mind when I wrote this, but I think dbgt Trunks might fit too (can't say for sure, I haven't watched dbgt in years).

“Trunks, I’m bored.” You whine from the couch. 

He only grunts in acknowledgement from where he’s sitting by his desk. You frown, annoyed he’s not paying you any attention. 

He was supposed to be free by then, or at least that’s what he told you earlier, and that’s why you are there. You have been waiting for him for half an hour, but it doesn’t look like he’s any closer to being done with whatever he’s doing in that goddamn computer. 

“Trunks,” You try again, with a very flat, obviously not serious tone. “There are aliens coming to invade us, I can see their spaceships from the window.”

“No kidding.” He retorts, not even looking in your direction. 

You glare at him, no matter that he’s unaware of your annoyance. 

“I’m gonna walk around naked now, okay?” You say after a while.

“Yeah, alright.” He replies nonchalantly, still unmoved. 

Groaning loudly, you sink into the couch, defeated. 

A date is all you want. Quality time with your boyfriend, going out to eat something maybe, and then some sexy time together, but he seems to care more about whatever work he’s doing right now. You don’t exactly know what that is, but you don’t feel like asking either.

“Trunks,” You call him again, but your voice is serious this time around. “If we’re not doing anything, I’m going home.”

He does look at you then, stopping the movement of his fingers on the keyboard. 

“I’m sorry. Could you please wait? I’ll be done soon.”

“It’s fine, if you’re busy we can hang out some other time-”

“No, no.” Trunks rubs his temples; he does look tired, and you feel a little guilty. Maybe it’s better if you postpone the date anyway, but he insists. “Give me five minutes and we’ll go.”

“But are-”

“I’ll be done soon.” He reassures you with a smile, turning towards the computer once to finish with what he’s working on.

Great, you feel a little guilty now. 

But you don’t say anything else, you don’t feel like arguing. You can always tell him to go home and rest if he feels too weary to go on with your plans. 

Soon enough, exactly five minutes later, you’re leaving his place to go to a bar for drinks. And you’re content, at least he seems relaxed enough, so you might actually get the date you want. 

Except that Trunks can’t stop looking at his phone. And it’s obviously work related stuff; he has been called a couple of times, and he gets up from your table to talk outside, leaving you alone. You let it slide the first few times, but even when the cocktails get there, he’s not even drinking, only writing out text messages when he’s not talking on the phone. 

You frown, more than annoyed then. You don’t want to be angry at him, and mostly you’re not, your anger is shared with whoever needs him so desperately from the other side of the line that they keep interrupting your time with your boyfriend. Trunks is important for his job, you understand, but this is his free time already, what’s so urgent it can’t wait until tomorrow?

“Maybe we should call it a day?” You suggest in one second he lets his phone down on the table.

“What? Why?”

“You’re obviously needed right now…”

The voice you use is soft, trying not to make him feel bad for anything. You know he needs to rest afterwards. His eyes are apologetic, and he leans in closer to whisper to you.

“I’m sorry, I’ll get this over with quickly.”

He kisses you briefly, just as his phone vibrates loudly, signaling an incoming call. You pout when he picks it up, but this time, he doesn’t leave the table.

“I’m quite busy right now, we’re going to solve this tomorrow.” He says, before hanging up. 

“Is it okay that you… hung up like that?” You gape at him.

“What are they going to do? Fire me?” He smirks.

“I guess not.” You giggle.

Trunks kisses you again, a little longer this time, and you smile against his lips. He takes a relaxed sip of his cocktail, and you grin, pleased to finally have him for yourself for a little while.

The atmosphere at the bar is nice, dimly lit with pink lights, and it’s such an exclusive place (obviously because he’s Trunks Briefs after all) that the tables are not so close to each other as other places, enough so that you can have a private conversation. It’s romantic, and the picture window nearby painted beautiful colors all over the walls, and on both of your skins. You’re delighted and giddy, and you could actually sit on his lap right then and there to kiss him senseless. 

But damn, if the people Trunks works with don’t actually understand that he isn’t working at the moment, because they keep calling him. He does his best to ignore it at first, simply eyeing his phone and pushing it aside until it just turns unbearable. 

When he picks up after a few missed calls, you take the opportunity to slip into the ladies’ room. While retouching your makeup, you keep repeating to yourself that you don’t want to get mad at him. It’s not even his fault. You can’t help feeling a little annoyed anyway; you put on a killer outfit with a blouse that highlighted your chest and tight skin shorts so you could be the center of his attention tonight, but his dumb coworkers keep taking his attention away from you. 

When you walk right back to your table, you see Trunks engaging in a full on conversation; he didn’t try to hang up that time. Your eyebrow twitches involuntarily, really annoyed and frustrated this time. As you stand right by the table, looking at him with a clearly pissed off look, he glances at you but goes on speaking. 

Not caring about the fact that you’re in a public place, you pop open the first few buttons of your blouse and hold your blouse open for Trunks to see your bare chest. That blouse has always been better when you didn’t put on a bra anyway.

He immediately opens his eyes wide like plates and goes mute, face flushing entirely. The person on the other side of the line keeps on speaking but you know he isn’t paying any attention when his hand slowly lowers, followed by a very loud gulp from him. 

“Like what you see?” You smirk at him, still holding your blouse open, no matter that there are other people around that can see you. “Ready to pay attention to me now?”

“I-I…” He stutters, and gulps again, hanging up the phone without even glancing at the screen. 

You button up your blouse then, satisfied that you got his attention at last, even if it’s because of something superficial like showing him your breasts. But you have nice tits, so you don’t care. Trunks keeps gaping at you as you take your seat next to him once more, casually taking a sip of your drink. You notice some stares thrown your way, and flushed slightly, turning to your boyfriend to smile smugly at him.

His phone rings again, but he doesn’t even look at it, keeping his eyes fixed on yours. After a moment, he does take his phone in his hand, and you watch him turn it off, before shoving it in the pocket of his jacket. As you drink the last bit of your cocktail, you watch him swig his entire glass in one large gulp, before almost slamming it back on the table. You worry he might have broken the glass and the table, but you don’t get to check when he suddenly grabs your hand and practically drags you out the bar, not before quickly shoving to the waiter what you assume is three times the cost of the bill, tip included (the waiter did look surprised after all).

“Where are we going?” You ask him as you step outside.

Trunks is still tugging at your hand, but you don’t mind it one bit. If anything, it amuses you that he wants to get out of there so fast; you’re not so clueless as to what he probably wants to do right away anyway. When he opens the capsule to his hover car, he opens the door for you so you can slide in. 

“Why are we in such a hurry, again?” You ask him again, playing innocent.

You make a surprised noise when Trunks suddenly kisses you. It’s forceful in contrast to the previous kisses he has given you that day, and you smile against his lips, completely pleased with yourself. It soon turns heavy, his hand in your neck holding you firmly as his tongue explores your mouth. His other hand slides down your waist, passing down your hip until he reaches your thigh.

You gasp when he suddenly slips his hand in between your legs, pressing firmly over the fabric of your short covering your sex. You do want him to keep going but you’re also very aware that you’re in a car in the middle of the city. With a shaky hand on his forearm, you try to slow him down, pulling away from his lips. 

“Trunks, we’re in public-”

“I know.” He replies, trailing his lips down your neck. 

His hand slides back, stroking your thigh, and you hum when he kisses the skin below your ear. 

He reluctantly pulls away, his lips on your neck leaving you last, and you feel suddenly way too cold. He quickly starts the car and launches it into the sky faster than what you’re used to, and you buckle up your seatbelt, just in case. 

“Slow down, what’s the hurry?” You offer him a smile, as innocently as you could.

“Really? After what you just did out there?” He smirks, throwing you a knowing look, and you giggle. 

You look around, confused, when he suddenly parks the car at the top of one of the tallest buildings in the city.

“What are you doing?”

“I don’t want to wait.” 

Trunks still has that mischievous smile on his lips as he suddenly climbs over your seat, reaching to the side to recline the seat all the way down, making you yelp. 

“Can we even park here?”

“Yes. I’m the only one who’s allowed to.”

You don’t have it in you to protest anymore when he buries his face in your neck once again, lips gliding over your skin, making you shiver. He’s quick in pulling your shorts and underwear down and pulling your blouse open, and seeing him so eager to have you turns you on even more. You make out heavily as you spread your legs so he can accommodate himself better in between them, and quickly tug his pants and underwear down enough to free his erection. Trunks swallows down all the noises coming from your lips while his fingers spread you open for him, preparing you for more, until neither of you can stand it anymore. 

You’re not so sure if the stars in the sky have ever been this vibrant when he eases his cock inside you, setting a slow pace at first, your entire body shivering underneath him. 

[starrieisdelusional]

Merlin fix it season 4 finale

Scene opens with kid arthur in the witch’s hut with morgana and merlin. Morgana asked him where his grandma is (old!gwen) and arthur said shes busy doing chores at home. Morgana notes the kid arthur is coming more and more frequent to their hideout.

Meanwhile back at the castle gwen is at a meeting with all the court members. Discussing about arthur’s removal from the throne. Gwen argues passionately, reminding them how much arthur has given to camelot and it’s people but the council disagrees and the decision is final.

When arthur arrives at the castle, he is confronted with the council straight into the meeting room. They are going to make aggravaine as king and arthur was silent for a second before he agrees. Yeah aggravaine is wiser, older, much more than him. Why the hell not. But gwen objects, saying that they should vote it out with the masses. And aggravaine lets her do it.

Gwen would later on make a polling station or the sort (the masses would either stand with aggravaine or arthur and they will do a head count) and ask the people to vote for either aggravaine or arthur, with both of their supporters made speeches on how great they are and why they should vote them as kings.

The results are in and aggravaine manages to peak in to see that arthur is actually winning and he manipulated the votes to make it seems that he won. The manipulated votes are bring to the council and this solidifies their decision to make aggravaine as king.

Gwen is exasperated but arthur is chill for the most part because he genuinely thinks his uncle is a better leader than him. But later that night an assassination attempt was made on aggravaine and the council blame arthur as the culprit.

Arthur said thats ridiculous but he doesnt have a solid alibi so he is sent to the dungeons to be executed the next day.

Arthur was bring to the crowed the next day for a public execution and arthur accepted his fate, preparing himself to meet his mum and his dad, and maybe even balinor. His only regret is that he didnt visited morgana and merlin for the last time.

But as the axe swings down the executioner is knocked back and arthur feels someone bringing him up to his feet. Merlin appears dauntingly in the crowd, say snarky stuff like “…is this how you treat your beloved king…?”

and the council retorted that aggravaine is the new king of camelot. And the main cast duke it out with the guards of camelot. The roundtable helped them escape and because they hate aggravaine and is going to get executed anyways for this, joins morgana and merlin on their escape.

Aggravaine lets them go for now and the series ends in aggravaine coronation, announcing himself as their new king

Season 4

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