#middle part is frustrating because it's not perfect in the way it sits side part is frustrating because i look like a girl

[talkorsomething]

want to cut my hair again like you wouldn't believe. What are the possible consequences of going bald

[oreo-creampie]

𝐠𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐬, 𝐲𝐚 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐭 𝐞𝐦 𝐛𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐞𝐦 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬! gojo’s pov, he has a huge size kink, manhandling, y'all are all living that married life, oral, teasing, praise, satoru is a soft love sick teasing sweetheart all for you some cock sucking

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧! size any jjk guy

Oreo: size kink or BRRRRRRRRR

You’re adorable struggling on your tip toes stretching your hand out for his boxes of chocolate. All of them stacked perfectly at his eyes level.

Satoru snickers when you jump. The blood rushes to his cock when you jiggle from the impact of landing. You’re so soft, squishy, short, and perfect.

You turn around with a scalding glare. The denial of chocolate getting to you. Your whine is adorable, “You did this on purpose!”

Satoru smirks closing the gap quickly with his long strides. Cornering you against the counter which he grabs to trap you between his muscular arms.

He croons, “And what are you gonna do about it?” You have to look up at him, he feels so much bigger, stronger. The feeling is making the blood rush into his cock.

You turn around in his arms, looking up at the sweet with forlorn. “Ignore you and climb the counters.” Bumping him with your soft butt. Satoru barely budges, grabbing your hips to lift you off the floor with ease.

He smirks and insists, “Ignore me then.” He tilts his head back, and sits you down. He sucks on your cunt’s soft lips through your underwear, loudly groaning.

Satoru wants you on your back looking up at him with tears in your beautiful eyes. While his big cock bullies your soft little cunt into a sore mess.

You taste better than the sweets you’re trying to get. And when your voice trembles his cock throbs. He tries to stuff his tongue into your cunt with your soft underwear in the way. It just barely gives letting him glide the tip of his tongue in.

With his six eyes, he can see the frustration melting from your beautiful face. A soft expression of pleasure replacing it. He can see the desperation in your gorgeous eyes.

Rocking your hips, gently grinding your soft cunt on his face. “Satoru please.” You reach back grabbing his soft hair, tugging. All that bratty attitude you had when he walked in is crumbling so easily. It’s making Satoru’s cock and balls ache with a need for your soft, submissive, short ass.

Satoru lifts you off his face. Admiring how the thin fabric clings to your lips giving him a beautiful outline of your soft cunt. “You’re so perfect to fuck into a mess.” Satoru bites your ass, your soft cunt making his cock twitch. He dying to be in you, aching to feel your soft, wet, and warm cunt cumming because of his cock.

Satoru smirks, urging you, “Grab your snack mama while I'm eating mine.” You lean forward pushing your back back when he sits you back down on his face.

Satoru sucks on your soft clit and groans. You’re so easy to throw around, he loves how he can manhandle you. He can fold you in two and fuck his long cock into your squishy guts.

It gets him off on how you look up at him, trusting him to take care of your cunt.

You grab the top shelf, “Forget the snack I want you to eat me out! Take my underwear off! I want to feel your soft tongue.” He lifts you off his face and sets you down.

Satoru glides his hands underneath your shirt. His shirt looks better on you. He hooks his thumbs into your underwear, you have to look up at him, waiting for him to say something.

Furrowing your brows, shifting your hips, his cock grinding against the middle of your back. “Satoru why are you so quiet? Every other time you have something to say.” Pre cum smears inside his underwear, making a wet mess.

He glides your underwear down for you to step out of. He pushes them to the side, curling two thick fingers into your soft cunt. He loves how he knows you’re body better than his own.

Your soft lips part with a sweet moan. He has to lean down and kiss you. Pouring every ounce of carnal hunger into it. Your soft tongue rubbing his has him thinking about how well you suck his cock and balls.

He pulls away, leaving you breathless, wondering. “Can't I admire my beautiful wife?” He kisses your forehead. “I love how I can call you my beautiful wife, my sweet wife, my darling little wifey.” He grabs your hand, kissing your ring.

Your soft cunt soaking his ring as he fucks his thick fingers into you. “Love how she squelches for me, letting me know how good I'm making her feel.” Letting your hand go.

He pulls your shirt up for you to hold in your mouth. “Good girl.” He softly plays with your nipple, massaging them with two thick fingers. “That’s it little mama lemme feel your soft pretty self cumming on my thick fingers.”

You’re so close. Satoru begs “Please mama cum for me. You’re perfect for me.” You drop your shirt with a moan of his name, cumming on his fingers. Your sweet juices trickle down your beautiful soft thighs.

Slowly gliding his finger out, sticking them into his mouth. Satoru groans whilst sucking his fingers clean. You turn around and keel, massing Satoru through his underwear. “You’re soaking through handsome.” You lick the wet spot on his boxers, tasting his sweet pre-cum.

He groans, “I love everything about your short n’ soft ass. With my six eyes I can't see myself with anyone else.” You slip his underwear down, kissing his head, the soft feeling of your lips on his head is heavenly.

Satoru groans when you glide his cock deep into your mouth. “All you’re, lemme show you by worshiping your sweet cunt.” The years of practice make your mouth dangerous. He can't bring himself to pull away as you deepthroat him.

Satoru whines when you glide him out of your mouth. Right away he wants to fuck the cocky, playful smile off your face. He grabs you, throws you over his shoulder, slaps your ass, and stuffs two fingers in.

Gliding his fingers out and tasting you. He wonders, "Do you have any plans tomorrow morning? Because you aren't walking for a little while after tonight."

oreo's m.list!💕

[devilishchaos]

hi love, i have no clue if youre taking requests atm but im really in love with ur writings, super talented🥹 i wonder if you could write more fluff where rúben is having the pregnancy symptoms (cravings, back pain, etc) basically hes feeling your pregnancy ups and downs hehe

Sympathetic pregnancy | Rúben Dias Imagine

Rating / genre: fluff

Pairings: Reader x Rúben Dias

Summary: Rúben, an expectant father, experiences some of the same symptoms and behavior as his pregnant partner.

Warnings: none

AN: Heyy, thank you so much for the kind words and the request <3 I hope you like it! :) x

Word Count: 813 words

This is a work of fiction. The story, names, characters and incidents either are product or the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

You rolled onto your back with a small groan. Nothing seems to work, you are overly tired, frustrated, in pain and hungry. You are so uncomfortable you actually want to scream. Your stomach is huge and because of that, no position in bed is comfy. Literally not even one. 

Being 38 weeks pregnant is hard, all you really want at this point is for the baby to come out already. On top of not being able to find a position to sleep in, you never slept more than an hour at a time. Tonight especially, you had been experiencing braxton-hicks contractions for most of the night, some of them bringing you to tears. You placed your hand on your stomach and could feel him kicking around. You could feel his tiny feet pushing through the skin of your stomach, giving you butterflies and a smile. There was just something so strange about feeling a baby kick within you and while it was weird - it was a beautiful part of pregnancy that you would for sure miss. But of course, right now you just wished he would stay still and go to sleep so maybe you could get some sleep as well. You winced in pain as you felt another contraction come on. 

“Rúben?” you asked softly, trying not to startle him. 

But there wasn’t a response. 

“Rúbes?” you tried again, but still nothing. 

And since your back was facing him, you had to turn around to see why he wasn’t responding. Which alone was a big task. 

You soon discovered that Rúben wasn’t in bed, his side empty and cold, which meant it had been a while since he had left. But where could have he gone? It was the middle of the night and he had early training tomorrow. So you decided to go and look for him. 

After carefully getting out of bed, you put on your fuzzy robe and opened the bedroom door. Immediately you entered the living room and you were met with darkness. You made your way to the closest light switch and 

“Ah, are you eating my favorite craving without me?” you gasped at your husband, who you caught red-handed, trying to stuff a pickle in his mouth, a jar of grape jelly and one with peanut butter opened in front of him, sitting on the kitchen counter “How could you do this to me?” 

“Princess, I-” 

“Don’t princess me now mister! Are you stealing your baby mama’s food? And why are you sitting in darkness??” 

“I’m not! I- I just..I wanted to try it and I- I couldn't stop, I guess.” 

“It’s good, huh? Make room for me.” 

You waddled your way to him, around the kitchen island, and put your hand out. He put a pickle in it, with the perfect ratio of peanut butter and jelly, because at this point he has made that for you one too many times and he knew exactly how you liked it. 

“Thank you, babe.” you said while you both continued to stuff your faces. It was just too good to pass. 

*

Rúben almost found himself in tears during the training session at THE Etihad Campus because he didn’t perform the best way he knew he could. He’s had a couple of bad days but they’ve never led him to be so hysterical, he’s a born leader after all. 

“Oi, Rúben!” Kyle called him cautiously when Rúben walked into the locker room without saying anything to anyone, his gaze hard as he threw his soaking with sweat shirt quite furiously in his locker. 

“Rúben.” he calls him again, this time in a higher tone and he makes his way towards him “Rúben, take a deep breath in, lad. Chill man.” a choked sound comes out of Rúben’s throat as he sits down on the bench and Kyle stepped back to study him better. 

“I can’t breathe. Everything hurts. I’m not sleeping like I should and I wanna go back to drink another (caffeinated drink).” Rúben breathed out fast.

“You know if you were a girl I’d tell you you’re like this because of your hormones, your period or something.” Kyle jokes.

“Great! So I’m a man and I’m just crazy?” Rúben rolls his eyes while his friend shakes his head amused “And you have a wife for longer than me, Walks?!? You should know better than to say stuff like that.” 

“It’s one of the side effects of becoming a father, I’m telling you..been there, done that..three times.” Kyle shrugs. 

“Well it sucks.” Rúben grumbles almost immediately as he crosses his arms to his chest. 

“It’s worth it, I can assure you of that.” a little smile is born on both their faces. “Hey, but let me know when your morning sickness goes away, okay?” Rúben groans while Kyle laughs, after all it’s a bit funny. 

[shmaptainwrites]

𝐎𝐍𝐄. 𝐓𝐖𝐎. 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄. [𝐅𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐒𝐂𝐀 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐓]

PAIRINGS — Francesca Bridgerton & Violet Bridgerton [mother-daughter]

SUMMARY — Francesca and Violet struggle to communicate through words and late nights provide alternate means to do so.

Or, Francesca finds Violet playing the piano late into the evening after the Mondrich ball.

WORD COUNT — 2K

WARNINGS — none

NOTE — Okay so full disclosure this idea came to me BEFORE part 2 came out, but part 2 kind of inspired the direction I ended up taking it :) I love them so much so it was definitely necessary to provide my own interpretation ;) Hope you enjoy!

Francesca was not often the last person awake in Bridgerton house, but this time she thought she might just be the one. That was, at least while she was readying herself for bed alone, having sent her maid off to sleep. 

She thought back to earlier that evening, her heart still uneasy from her interaction with her mother. She was still reeling from it, feeling as though maybe her mother didn’t like John just because her love for him was not like those she had seen with her older siblings, or even what she had had herself with her father. 

Francesca didn’t understand it. She thought of all people, when it came to love, her mother would be the one to understand. Clearly she was mistaken.

Just as she was about to climb into bed, a sigh on her lips, she heard a sound, coming faintly from downstairs. Under normal circumstances, she would have ignored it, but there was something that drew her to it. Something melodic. 

Francesca pushed herself up off her bed, tucking her hair behind her ears, and opening the door now hearing the sound a little louder and clearer than before. 

Now it was obvious, she was hearing the piano from the drawing room, but she frowned curiously. She didn’t know anyone in her family who loved the instrument enough to be playing this late into the night, that was besides herself. 

With pursed lips, Francesca made her way downstairs, her robe wrapped tightly around her, listening as the sounds of a melody got louder and louder as she approached it. 

It wasn’t necessarily perfect, there were stumbles and fumbles, but Francesca could hear past that, the emotion that filled every note, every tone, drenched with a certain…sadness. 

She took a moment outside of the drawing room, just listening to the music without revealing who it was that could play such melancholic phrases. 

As she leaned against the wall, she could feel the vibrations of the instrument in the ground, each strike of the key, each mistake followed by huffs of frustration, as if whoever was playing needed to get the note correct, each chord, each progression. 

Francesca turned around eventually, during a lull in the song, the notes becoming more languid and lazy, the harshness in the sadness and anger of the other movement of the piece coming to an end and making way for something more content and peaceful. She placed a hand on the closed door and carefully pushed it open, finally revealing to herself who was on the other side, her jaw dropping slightly as she saw her mother, still in her evening gown, sitting at the piano bench. 

She had one hand resting on her lap, the other carrying the soft simple melody, her head hung low. 

Francesca bit her lip, she thought it would be safe to assume that perhaps the reason she had come back to the piano after so many years of not having played may have something to do with her. Maybe even more so their argument earlier that evening. 

She hesitantly made her way further into the room, careful not to startle or disturb her mother, her feet treading lightly on the ground. When she came closer, almost to the bench, in the middle of a phrase her mother stopped, her fingers still pressing the keys in a minor chord. It was a moment or two before she removed her hand. 

She knew Francesca was standing there.

Francesca pressed her lips into a thin line, pushing away her hurt for a moment and coming to sit on the small space left on the bench beside her.

Violet looked up at Francesca, noticing she was no longer in her dress, only a simple nightgown, her hair tucked behind both ears, a soft look in her eyes. 

Francesca looked over at her mother just as she looked away from her, seeing the evidence of tears that stained her cheeks. 

A lump formed in Francesca’s throat at the sight. She opened her mouth and closed it, looking up at the ceiling for a moment. 

She heard Violet sniffle, but the sound was followed by a note. 

Surprised, Francesca looked down and saw her mother’s fingers resting again on the keys. They played three notes in sequence that Francesca would recognize anywhere. 

She looked up at her mother who had paused to look at her. Into her eyes first, then at her hands. A suggestion. 

Francesca lifted her hands, fingers resting comfortably on the keys in the upper octaves while her mother took the lower ones, playing the first few notes again, Francesca easily finding her rhythm and joining in. It was a simple song, not quite the things she would venture playing now, but one of her favourites from the early days of her lessons. 

She had learnt the basics from watching Daphne with her tutor and would come and practice early in the morning before anyone was awake. 

Her mother among the rest of her family had noticed this, but she was always the one who humoured her the most. More than humouring her, she encouraged her. 

She remembered distinctly one morning, the rest of the house fast asleep when she came as usual, finding the piano bench from where Anthony had hidden it, picking it up with her small hands and moving it to the front of the piano, climbing up and sitting in front of the keys, looking down with wide eyes.

She hadn’t noticed initially, but her mother was awake, likely due to some discomfort from her sibling they had yet to meet, and had come and joined Francesca by the piano, picking her up despite her surprise and sitting down herself on the bench and placing her on her lap.

Francesca could see her expression so clearly, a small laugh escaping Violet’s lips as she saw Francesca’s confusion. She could feel her mother’s enlarged stomach against her back, her confusion soon overshadowed by the feeling of her mother’s lips against her forehead. 

Wordlessly, Violet took Francesca’s hands and placed them over top of her own, showing her a progression of notes. 

Francesca watched so intently as her mother guided her through the steps of the song, eagerly stopping her as soon as she was done, swatting her hands away and listening to her gentle laugh echo through the room as Francesca demonstrated what she could do. 

Violet was thoroughly impressed with her daughter, barely fumbling even though she didn’t have any notes in front of her, retaining everything she had shown her only moments earlier. 

With another kiss to her cheek, she encouraged Francesca to play it again, her hands moving to the lower octave as she began and adding the lower harmony and bass line for the duet. 

Francesca giggled with glee as her mother joined in, the sounds melding together creating some sort of sweet sensation in her heart. 

Violet nuzzled her face into her daughter’s neck in front of her, tickling her and making her mess up which came with a whine of protest until her mother whispered three little words in her ear along with three more notes on the piano. A chord. And all was calm. 

As they played the duet over the years Francesca had added her embellishments, turning it into something new each time they sat down, using it as a way to show her mother what she had learnt all those hours practicing and with a tutor.

And yet, this time as they played, Francesca’s fingers danced only over those same keys her mother had taught her the very first time around. Stripped of extravagances, of the complications of musical theory and creative composition. 

Violet had played this duet so many times it was muscle memory at this point. Her role never changed while Francesca’s evolved, but hearing those same simple notes, the smallest thing from the start of her journey on the piano, threatened to bring tears to Violet’s eyes once more, because maybe through the silence, or rather, the music, Francesca understood. Maybe she understood that Violet had never meant to hurt her, that her happiness was all that mattered in the end, and she was still trying to navigate and learn how to best be a mother to her children who were growing up far too quickly. Maybe Francesca understood she was only human. 

As the song came to a close, Violet hesitated, not wanting the moment to end, clinging to this point in time where she could communicate with her daughter, where she felt as though they finally understood each other even if it was only amongst notes where everything remained unsaid. 

Francesca noticed her mother’s hesitation, unable to play the last notes, so she finished her melody and made one exception. She added a small flourish to the end, the last notes travelling down until they reached that special chord. 

One. Two. Three. 

I. Love. You. 

Violet chewed on her lip and looked up at her daughter, her hand finally able to move from where it was frozen, repeating the notes at a lower octave until they became a chord. 

Francesca found herself still looking down at the keys, her mind fixed on the sound of that chord, trying to feel everything that came from it. Because to her no matter what song, no matter what circumstance, playing or listening, that chord felt like her mother’s embrace, her mother’s kiss, her mother’s love. 

And just as she was about to pull away to go back to sleep, she felt a gentle hand on her arm, pulling her in until she was engulfed in warmth. Arms that, when wrapped around her, made her feel like she was five again sitting on her mother’s lap, protected by her as she did what she adored. 

Next she felt the soft press of lips to the crown of her head, lips that lingered and were a balm to every wound Francesca had ever endured. 

And though all of that, most of all, she felt that love. The love that constantly radiated off of Violet and spilled down over to her children and reminded Francesca that it had always been there, even through their disagreements, even when they couldn’t understand each other, it was as unwavering and sustained as a fermata. 

Francesca didn’t wish to move. Staying in her mother’s arms is what felt most comfortable and Violet wasn’t inclined to let go. Instead, she began to run a hand through her daughter’s hair, smoothing out any stray strands, creating some sort of excuse in her mind to continue to treat her daughter like the small child she remembered her to be, even if only for a few moments before she eventually married and left her for good. 

But Violet knew she had to let go and so did Francesca. 

Even if neither of them liked it, they pulled apart and Violet took one last moment to look at her daughter, to cradle her face in her hand, to admire how much she had grown in such a short time. She squished her cheek just like she would when she was little and Francesca couldn’t hold back the smile that came across her lips at the action. 

When it was time for them to leave, Francesca took her mother’s hand from her face and instead intertwined it with hers, standing up and leading the way out of the drawing room. 

Violet’s hand moved from being intertwined with Francesca’s to holding her close to her side, her arm outstretched over her back and Francesca leaned her head against her mother’s shoulder knowing whatever came next, as long as they were playing a duet, everything would be just fine.

[petrichor-idyllic]

Hello are your requests still open? If so, can you pls do a Minho x reader (female: she/her) where Minho wants to just do his job and map the maze in the map room but reader gets in too (she's the only non-runner allowed cuz she's with Minho), and she wants to get his attention like- sit on his lap and whispering things to him, staring at him from across the room etc and its so high on tension. Thank you😊

Ooo, yes, sounds fun. I love writing high tension scenes.

BEHAVE

MASTERLIST | MINHO MASTERLIST

SUMMARY: See above. Established relationship. Takes place before the arrival of Thomas.

WARNINGS: Inappropriate language, some high sexual tension, spice, Minho playing hard to get, awkward public flirting.

It's no secret that you're obsessed with your boyfriend. Everyone in the Glade is fully aware of your infatuation with Minho.

I mean, how could you not? The man is perfect. He's strong, handsome, passionate about the things he loves, determined and actually quite thoughtful. And he has a body that looks like it was sculpted by the Gods themselves.

Which obviously works in Minho's favour since it means the other boys make no attempt to hit on you.

Because Minho would kill them.

The downside to this relationship is that Minho is a very busy dude. Not only is he a Keeper and an integral part of the Glade, but he also spends nearly all of his time out in the Maze. Or mapping the Maze. Or talking about the Maze. Or thinking about the Maze.

The Maze has a hold on his life- which leaves less time for you to have a hold on him.

When Minho said you could start spending time in the Map room whilst he's in there, you were thrilled for obvious reasons. Minho also wants to spend more time with you and feels bad that his job takes the priority of his time. So, being Keeper and basically incharge of the Map room, he decided it would be a smart idea.

It was not.

You are going to be Minho's downfall because you know exactly how to get under his skin, and you love his attention. Which is bad mix, especially since the Runners started to explore the outer sections and Minho is even busier than before.

Which has led to some frustrations from both sides. Not spending as much time alone together means that you're having less moments of physical intimacy. Sure, you still cuddle in bed and share the occasional peck, but Minho is normally too tired to meet your needs.

But you are struggling. Minho is too, but he has a bit too much on his plate for that to be as much of a concern.

"So, you're telling me you found nothing?" Minho and the other Runners sit around the large table in the middle of the room, paper scattered everywhere. Minho looks like he's going to kill Ben if he makes one more bad maze pun.

"Yeah," the other boy leans back in his seat, "basically." Ben has developed the nasty habit of making his adventures sound more interesting than they actually are.

You're sitting on one of the tables that line the room, swinging your legs over the side, directly across from Minho as you watch him. Admittedly, you like watching him work. There's something about watching him lead and be in control that makes you feel some kind of way.

It doesn't help when he wears that dumb tight blue shirt. He pretty much started wearing it religiously when he noticed how much you like it.

"Has anyone found anything of note today?" Minho leans back, throwing his arm over the back of the chair and casually watching his men write down their own routes for the day.

His eyes flicker up, catching your gaze. You flash him a smirk, coyly tilting your head as you cross your cross your legs, leaning back on your hands. He slightly raises his eyebrow before rolling his eyes, returning to his work.

After another fifteen or so minutes, you internally chuckle to yourself, thinking up an idea. You let out an exaggerated sigh, some gravel to the noise.

It's something that the other boys pay no mind to, but Minho has heard it before. And as his body visibly tenses, you can tell he's having all sorts of flashbacks. He sends a warning look your way, and you just pout, batting your eyes to exaggerate innocence.

After a while, the boys start discussing Maze things amongst themselves, but Minho doesn't join in, seemingly in his own little world.

You take the opportunity to stand up, walking around the table and behind your boyfriend- something that raises no concern among the group since it isn't uncommon. You drape your arms over his shoulders, hugging him from behind and crouching down slightly like you're examining his work with him. Though you make an extra effort to push your boobs against his back.

"Looks good," you say, talking normally and at the same volume as everyone else.

"This is the same as all my other work," his voice is hushed, lower than before, probably because you're lightly dragging your fingers up and down his chest- playing it off as absentmindedly fiddling.

"Yeah, well, all your work looks good," you lean closer to him, brushing your lips against his ear and whispering, "kinda like you."

Minho's jaw tenses. You're playing a dangerous game here and, for some reason, that seems to be getting to Minho more than anything else. Something about your very simple acts of seduction in a room full of people that hold the utmost respect for him is making his knees weak and has him shuffling in his seat.

You let one of your arms fall limp when another boy asks Minho a question, not that you're paying enough attention to understand the question. But when your hand comes to the back of Minho's neck, stroking the small hairs at the base of his head, he ever so slightly stumbles over his words, struggling to process the words and the sensation at the same time.

You'd be lying if you said you didn't enjoy Minho like this. It's not very often you manage to make the normally confident Keeper blush or squirm, so the power you hold at the current moment is a pleasant change.

The conversation continues, and the boys slowly start to leave, finishing their work and saying their goodbyes until it's just you, Minho, and Ben.

"Shuck's sake," Ben hisses as his pencil cracks, the lead snapping and leaving a dark dot on his map. "(Y/N)?"

You hum in response, showing he has your attention.

"Can you grab me a new pencil, please? I don't know where you put them."

"Sure," you may or may not have gotten bored waiting for Minho and rearranged the entire Map room to make it more organised.

It took a lot longer than you originally thought, but you were determined to finish it.

But no one else has a clue where anything is.

You go over to one of the boxes under the outer tables, bending down and pulling out the box, making sure to stick your ass up. You hear Minho suck in a deep breath, choosing to ignore Ben's irritated grumbling about the Creators sending up shitty equipment.

"Here," standing back up, you roll the pencil across the table.

You return behind Minho, watching as Ben's eyes burn into the paper, almost cartoonishly hunched over as his tongue sticks out at an angle.

With Ben's full attention on something else, you press a light kiss to Minho's neck. His back straightens, and his eyes flutter shut for a moment. You pull away as he looks at you.

"I need to work," he attempts to sound firm, but his voice wavers, completely giving everything away.

"What?" You pretend to be lost as Ben lifts his head up, visibly confused as to what he's missed. "I'm just bored, shank- you know I don't get half of this Maze klunk. I'm just watching."

Minho presses his tongue into his cheek, glaring at you, but his pupils are wider than before and his eyelids heavier.

You take a seat instead, casually leaning your elbow on the table as you watch Minho work.

"Alright," Ben stands up, the chair scratching against the floor. "I'm done- catch you guys later."

"Later, Ben," you smile at him and he gives you a playful salute.

"Don't even think about it," Minho says the second the door closes, making you groan.

"Think about what?"

"You know what," he doesn't even look at you. "You know I have more work to do than the rest of them- don't make it harder."

Minho knows that if he looks at you, he's going to immediately crack, and he doesn't know if he'll be able to keep his hands off of you.

"You're always working," you flop onto the table, "I never get you to myself anymore."

"We literally sleep together every night."

"Yeah, but not in the way I want," you practically whisper it, but Minho still manages to catch the gist.

"What was that?"

"Doesn't matter."

"Nah, c'mon, tell me," he's finally raised his head, twisting his pencil around his toned hands.

"No, it's fine. Not like it'll make a difference."

He pulls his lips into a thin line. "No, c'mon. You gotta tell me now."

"I want to fuck you."

You sit back, crossing your arms against your chest. You're calm, face stoic- which couldn't be more the opposite to Minho. He's stunned, his heat rate increasing as the tips of his ears start to turn red.

"Behave," he warns.

"What? You asked."

"Yeah, b-but I have to work- yeah? I'll give you attention after."

"You're a liar."

"What?" You stand up, standing in front of him for second.

"I said," you swing your leg over him, straddling him as you sit on his lap, facing him, "you are a liar. We're gonna go to bed, and you're immediately gonna pass out. I want you now."

Instinctively, his hands come to your waist, almost moving him closer to you. His eyes flicker to your lips as you feel his fingers dig into you. "Behave, (Y/N)." His voice is raspy, and he makes no actual attempt to stop you.

Because, honestly, he doesn't want to.

"Fine," you sigh, "but can at least sit here? Be close to you at least?"

He hesitates for a second, but nods. "Alright."

You shuffle slightly closer, your chests pressed together as you rest your head on his shoulder. Your breath lingers on his skin, the warmth of having you close and occasionally moving is making Minho's head go fuzzy.

Your smell is intoxicating. Your skin is hypnotising. Every natural urge in his body is screaming at him, and it only gets worse when you adjust yourself again, unintentionally grinding against him.

At this point, you've accepted your failure. You respect Minho's work and if he says he's too busy, then there's not much you can actually do about it.

That is until you feel him against you.

"Minho, are you-?"

"Shut up," he says almost immediately, "I can't help it, okay?" You chuckle and he feels the vibrations, the maps he's examining and the words he's writing might as well be non-existent.

"Mhm."

"I can't!" You don't need to look at him to be able to tell he's bright red; you can feel the heat radiating of his face.

You start to litter gentle kisses along the base of his neck, and he sucks in a deep breath.

"I told you to behave," he mumbles, his breath hitching and one of his hands returning to your waist.

"Do you want me to stop?" Your question is genuine. Sure, it's entertaining to watch him squirm, but you would never actually want to make him uncomfortable.

"...No." You smirk against his skin, continuing your pursuit until your teeth graze him, lightly biting him before sucking on the skin just above his collarbone in the crook of his neck. It's a particularly sensitive spot to Minho.

You hear the pencil scatter to the floor as he drops his head back, a grunt escaping his throat. His other hand comes to your waist, forcing you to move against him to have some kind of friction.

The action sends electricity through you, causing you to start moving your hips all on your own. His hands travel under your shirt, scratching at your back. You let out a small gasp at the smirk, pulling away to look at him.

His perfect hair has started to become messy, pupils blown wide as he looks up at you. His eyes flicker, hands slipping further under the fabric.

"You're a real shuckin' nightmare, you know that?" He's barely audible, basically mumbling as you ghost your lips against his.

"Yeah, but you love me," you move your hands to his hair, making it even more dishevelled.

A faint smirk plays in his lips. "How could I not?"

Finally, he leans forward, merging your mouths together in a heated kiss that's full of emotion. He basically lifts you up, making you squeak into him before you hit the table.

Papers scatter everywhere, and one of the Runners drinks that was left spills all over the wood. The table even jolts back an inch with the force he moves you.

Falling back, Minho stands between your legs as you hold yourself up with your elbows. After a few seconds, your arms fall weak, making you dip further back, your head hitting the table.

He moves down to your neck, sucking on the sensitive skin and undoubtedly leaving deep, purple bruises. It's not uncommon for Minho to be possessive and territorial, even if he doesn't need to be.

You mumble his name, hands fisting his hair as he moves even lower, lifting your shirt to pepper kisses against your mid-drift.

A deep, almost mischievous chuckle escapes him as he looks up at you, fiddling with your belt.

He smirks. "I warned you."

Here is a shorter piece since I am still recovering from the last request, but still fun to write all the same. Not as story based either but I do enjoy these more simple one-shots.

I hope you enjoy all the same.

Requests are still open :))

[the-slytherin-writer-12]

Give up some heartbreaking stiles angst for us please but with a happy ending I beg of you

Your wish is my command 😌

A Fine Line

Fandom: Teen Wolf

Pairing: Stiles x fem!reader

Warnings: angst, then fluff

A/N: there will be a part 2. I didn’t have time to finish this like I wanted, but I felt bad for not answering this earlier

*credit to gif owner*

Teen Wolf Masterlist

General Masterlist

Beacon Hills was a concoction of different supernatural species: werewolves, werecoyotes, banshees, hellhounds, etc. But one thing is constant…..Stiles’s chaos.

Being the only human in the pack, Stiles knew what it felt like to be left out. Only having a bat and sarcasm as his only defense, he often felt alone. Until Y/N came around.

Y/N Whittmore was Jackson’s cousin. After Jackson moved away, his parents felt like the house was empty. So following Y/N’s parent’s unfortunate deaths, they invited her to live with them. She started at BHHS at the beginning of her junior year. Scott, being the kind person he is, took Y/N under his wing. Naturally, she was accepted by the entire pack and become one of their own.

Stiles, on the other hand, didn’t like her. She had an ‘attitude problem’, as he liked to say. It wasn’t her fault that she could stand up for herself, or that she had a strong personality.

It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence for Stiles and Y/N to get into fights. Most of the time, it was Lydia that played the middle-man, well woman.

Currently, the pack was at a warehouse. Scott and Malia were leading them inside, with Lydia and Liam following closely behind. Stiles and Y/N were sitting in Roscoe.

Y/N was on her phone, watching videos and getting on Stiles nerves. Stiles sat in the drivers seat with a scowl on his face. At one point, Y/N laughed quietly at a video. Stiles huffed and whipped his head around.

“Do you mind?!”

Y/N paused her video, and looked up at him, confusion clouding her face.

“I’m sorry?” She tilted her head to the side. Stiles chuckled dryly.

“Yeah, you should be,” he muttered. Y/N’s face then shifted into annoyance.

“What did I even do?”

“You-you’re just annoying!” He huffed. Y/N turned to face him in her seat.

“I haven’t even done anything, you idiot!” She spat. Stiles rolled his eyes and shifted his body to face her as well.

“You have and you don’t even realize you have! You sit there, acting all perfect. You waltz in here and-and you just worm your way into the pack. You steal MY friends, you try and insert your self in any way you can! And, you don’t even do anything when we’re out-“ he was cut off by an angry Y/N.

“Last time I checked, I don’t have any sort of supernatural powers, Stiles. And neither do you! So don’t go pointing fingers at people with no purpose because you don’t have one either!”

Stiles just stared at Y/N with anger in his eyes, his faces screwed up.

“You know what, you should go in there with them next time. Maybe you’ll be useful for something like being bait or maybe even a distraction,” he started, sneering. And he leaned close enough to where she could see specks of green in his eyes, “and maybe you’ll get killed. It’ll do us all a favor.”

Y/N reared back in shock. Her mouth dropped open and tears sprung to her eyes.

“Screw you, Stiles. All I’ve ever done is be nice to you! I’ve never hurt you, never gotten in your way, nothing,” she spat. “Never, ever have I thought someone so nice an-and kind could say something so hurtful and s-so malicious.”

With that, she opened the car door, got out, and slammed the door of the Roscoe. As she walked away, she could hear Stiles’s groan of frustration in the Jeep.

————————————————————————

As Y/N was walking home, she heard a car driving behind her. She tightened her arms around her torso and sped up walking. She heard the car slow down when it got beside her.

“Hey pretty girl, need a ride?” Said an unfamiliar male voice. Y/N just kept walking and ignored the man. “Hey now that’s no way to treat someone trying to help.” The man chuckled as he said this.

Y/N continued began jogging. She heard a car door slam shut and reached into her pocket, trying to grab her phone. She pulled it out and opened the phone app, clicking on Scott’s name. Just as she hit the dial button, she felt the man wrap his arms around her waist and pick her up.

“You’re coming with me.”

And then everything went black.

[juceynightmare]

dating 101 (18+) part 24 - cody rhodes x reader

my masterlist

dating 101 (18+) masterlist

pairing(s): cody rhodes x fem!reader, roman reigns x fem!reader

warning(s): swearing, slapping, marijuana usage, possessive!cody, unwanted advances

genre(s): college!au, slow burn, fluff, angst

|| previous part || next part ||

when cody walked back into his room and shut the door behind him, he didn’t expect ted to already be sitting at his desk facing the door with his hands in his lap. cody stared at him for a moment and silently cursed the world because he had actually wanted to be alone and listen to painfully sad music. “when did you get back?” cody asked instead of jumping head first into his mattress and screaming into his pillow out of frustration.

“at the perfect time. i saw you and y/n go back to her room all giggly and happy.” ted hummed, a knowing smirk on his face as cody sat down in his chair. “and when i walked by, i expected the door to be open, only to find it to be closed, and i know y/n usually has her door open, even if one of us were in there with her alone.” he continued, watching the way a blush had rose to cody’s cheeks.

cody didn’t have a bone in him that wanted to deny what ted saw. he already had enough on his plate already, especially knowing that y/n was currently in her room talking to roman about god knows what. “i like her.” cody admitted, pulling out his ipad and instantly opening up the spotify app so he could throw together a sad playlist for himself to listen to until y/n eventually gave him an answer. “i told her that i wanted to date her.”

“and…” ted dragged on the word, clearly expecting there to be a good outcome to the situation. he had front row tickets to watching his two best friends start falling for each other and had been waiting for one of them to finally admit to him that they had a thing for each other.

“and nothing.” cody sighed, already reaching for his backpack so he could pull out his airpods. “she’s in there talking to roman right now. if i’m honest, i don’t have much hope.” he admitted, visibly slumping in his seat as he put an airpod in one of his ears and began to put together a new playlist.

ted stared at cody in disbelief, watching the way his cocky, overly-confident, “i don’t have to try to get pussy because the pussy just falls right into my lap” roommate had retracted into a shell of uncertainty and insecurity. it was unsettling to say the least.

what was more unsettling was how far cody was in his insecurities that he truly believed that y/n wouldn’t choose him in the end. ted reached over and smacked cody upside the head, causing cody to look at ted with anger in his gaze.

before cody could retaliate and chew out ted, ted pointed his finger at cody and said, “you’re a fucking idiot if you think she’s going to choose roman over you.”

cody calmed himself down, turning his head to look back towards his screen as he sighed in defeat. “what makes you even say that?” he questioned, tapping away at his screen as he filled the playlist with endless songs to get cody in his feels. “man, i fucking start the day with her. every single day ever since we met. i tie her hair up so it’s not in the way while she does her skincare. and then i end the day with her. we’ve been fucking for the past week or so. i’ll tuck her in bed after cleaning her up, kiss her goodnight and leave even though i want nothing more than to just sleep with her by my side. but guess what, ted. roman’s still on her fucking mind.”

ted stared at cody with wide eyes. he certainly knew cody was leaving in the middle of the night to go fuck some girl, he had woken up to use the restroom in the middle of the night only to find cody’s bed empty. he just never would have guessed that the person cody was sleeping with was y/n.

“you took her virginity?” ted asked, remembering when y/n had admitted that she was a virgin. he watched the way cody nodded his head and open one of his drawers.

cody pulled out a pack of pre-rolled joints and his lighter. he took one of the joints out and placed it between his pursed lips, holding the box out to ted to offer him one. ted shook his head at the offer, watching as cody set the pack down on his desk and reach for his ashtray.

“were you her first kiss too?” ted asked as cody held the joint between two fingers and lit the end while rolling it. the question seemed to have put cody in a sour mood, and a scowl appeared on his face.

“roman was.” he muttered bitterly, bringing the joint to his lips after it was lit and drawing the smoke into his mouth. cody pulled the joint away from his lips as he held the smoke in his mouth for a few seconds before inhaling it into his lungs, exhaling as he slumped back into his chair.

ted nodded his head, turning away from cody as the man continued to puff, puff, puff, as if his life depended on it. ted didn’t even know that y/n had a bone in her body that was capable of “whoring” around, although it seemed he was proven wrong considering cody’s words.

“just trust that she’ll choose you in the end. it’s weird seeing you so insecure about yourself, man.” ted mumbled, not knowing how else he could reassure his roommate.

cody held the joint over the ashtray as he exhaled the smoke in his lungs. he tapped the joint against the edge, watching the way the ash fell on to the tray. he thought over ted’s words for a second before changing the topic, “roman texted me some weird shit. y/n texted him that she wanted to talk to him because… she told me she wanted to figure things out since she didn’t know what she want and i guess her first step is to talk to roman. but roman sent me some weird ass fucking text to me.”

ted looked over at cody as cody pulled up his messages app on his ipad. he tilted the ipad towards ted so that he could read over the message.

“last night was basement night at theta xi. i blacked out so i don’t remember a single thing, but something happened between roman and i clearly. there’s no reason for him to be so hostile. i don’t even know what i could have told her that’d piss him off.” cody groaned, already raising the joint back up to his lips once more.

ted sighed, shaking his head and turning the ipad back towards cody. “i don’t know, codes. clearly something bad if he’s threatening to kill you for talking to her. maybe ask randy if you said anything? i don’t think you should ask jimmy or jey, they’re loyal to roman.” he suggested.

cody nodded his head, remembering that y/n had told him that randy was the one to bring him back to the dorms. “yeah, good idea. i’ll text randy, he was the one that brought me back here. maybe i said some shit.” he hummed, already pulling up his text chat with randy so that he could send him a message.

across the hall in the other room was a very tense, panicked roman and a confused, fiery y/n. y/n had taken a seat in her chair, leaning back with her arms crossed over her chest while roman stood in front of her.

“you haven’t said a word in the past 3 minutes. having trouble thinking up another lie?” y/n scoffed, finally cutting the radio silence that had filled the room.

roman didn’t know where to go now. he was already in a frantic state of mind, having just visited his baby momma that lived two floors down to try and convince her, yet again, to get an abortion. and now here he was in y/n’s room thinking of all the ways he could manage to salvage their… whatever they were… in order to secure his 500 dollars from jey.

he had jumped to conclusions when y/n texted, only thinking that the only reason why she’d want to talk is because cody had remembered what happened the night prior and snitched. he hadn’t even thought of any other reason that she’d want to talk to him.

“what did you want to talk about?” roman asked instead, hoping she wouldn’t press any further.

“everything i heard from a little birdie, who isn’t cody, by the way. so keep his name out of your mouth.” y/n growled. and although she presented herself as demanding, on the inside she was internally freaking out.

there was no way roman was going to directly answer her questions about what he just said, and so, she took a page out of austin’s book and decided to put her drama club skills to use. improv was always her strong suit, according to austin.

she watched roman seem to tense up at the mention of cody, and confusion washed over his features when y/n said it wasn’t cody who had told her what she knew. of course, she didn’t know jack shit but roman believed otherwise.

“i’m an open book, roman. you know me, i’m not one to judge. it’d be better if you were just honest with me so i can hear straight from the person who’s in the center of all the drama instead of hearing multiple different variations.” she continued, watching the way roman seemed to be visibly fighting a war in his mind.

“how much do you know?” roman eventually asked.

hook, line, and sinker. y/n could practically hear austin’s voice humming in the back of her head.

“everything else besides whatever this is about another girl somehow being involved in the entire stint.” y/n replied, fully aware that the only piece of information she really had was the fact that roman had walked in here claiming cody’s a liar that there’s a girl that’s supposedly jealous of her and roman.

roman sighed, bringing his hands and rubbing his palms over his face. he had no idea how he’d get out of this one. it didn’t help that the stupidly expensive bouquet he had gotten her was still proudly being displayed on her desk. roman could feel a twinge of guilt tug at his heart.

he lowered his hands and responded, “an ex of mine.” he figured that was a neutral enough answer that wouldn’t land him in a deeper hole. he watched as y/n nodded her head and seemed to think of another question to ask him.

“alright if she’s just an ex of yours, then why does what she thinks about us matter?” she questioned. when roman could only stare at y/n with wide eyes, she knew that he didn’t have an answer that’d satisfy the both of them.

she sighed, bringing her hand up to pinch her nose. “you know what? i’m just not going to push it. i wanted to talk to you about ending things between us because i realized that i’m just really shit when it comes to dating and i need to take a step back from people.”

roman could hear the money leave his wallet, and god did he need those 500 dollars of his to stay in his wallet and for jey to cough up 500 out of his own wallet. “wait, what? was it something i did? is it because of her?” roman asked, trying to find some sort of doorway that was still open that he could slip himself into.

y/n let her hand fall from her face, letting it fall back against her lap. “no, i literally just told you the reason why. are you even listening or are you too stuck in your own head?” she asked. she knew she had roman right where she wanted him, watching the way he drew in a breath nervously and he began to fidget with the watch he wore on his wrist.

roman stared at her, trying to read her body language and the way her eyes seemed to hide something from her. however, he knew that he didn’t know y/n like that. whenever the girl would talk about herself, the man would simply pocket the information and focus on how sinful her tits would look in a specific shirt.

and it hit him.

she wasn’t even confronting him about the bet, which was arguably the most problematic part of the whole narrative considering that it directly involved her. she was bluffing about knowing everything. roman didn’t even know if she even knew about the fact that the “ex” he mentioned was pregnant with his child.

but that also meant she was deadset on ending things with roman.

“y/n, please. don’t we have a good thing going on?” roman asked, taking a step forward and reaching for y/n’s hand. when he grabbed her hand, y/n pulled her hand away from his so ferociously as if he had just burned her.

“roman, i know it’s such a shit saying but i really mean it. it’s not you, it’s me. i need to figure shit out, okay? i’m sorry if i lead you on or whatever, but i’m hurting someone that means a whole lot to me and it was sort of my wake up call that i can’t keep on going on dates with you while sleeping with somebody else entirely.” y/n sighed, unable to even look roman in the eye as she tilted her head downwards.

roman stared at her with wide eyes. she was actively sleeping with someone else while roman was out here trying to get her to sleep with him by going on dates. he, jey, and jimmy had clearly gotten the wrong narrative about y/n. they thought she was a goody two shoes through and through: the type of girl that would only sleep with a guy if they were dating. she had even turned down roman when he made advances towards her and told him that she’d have to be his girlfriend before they went any further.

“it could have been that easy all along?” roman asked, and the change in his tone had made y/n look back up at roman. she was confused by roman’s words, not knowing what roman was even referring to, but what had caught her attention was the way roman’s voice had deepened to a sultry tone. and suddenly, roman was crouching down so he was eye level with y/n, his hands on her knees. “look, no matter how good this guy is at fucking you to the point where you were so deadset on having me wait until we start officially dating, i can assure you that i’m better. just give me one night, doll.”

y/n stared at roman with wide eyes, and she roughly pushed his hands off of her knees when they began to travel upwards. “i don’t know who the fuck you think you are, but i can assure you that i did not ask to talk to you just so you can ‘prove’ to me that you’re a sex god.” she huffed, scooting her chair back and standing up. “roman, if you want me to even think of you as a friend after all this, i think you should leave right now.” y/n suggested, watching the man stand up.

roman rested his hands against her hips, pulling her close to him and tightening his grip on her when he felt her press her hands against his chest to try and push him away. “come on, don’t be like that, doll. just one night.” he hummed.

y/n forcefully shoved roman away, stepping around him and opening the door. she turned to look at him, feeling the parts of her body that roman had laid his hands on begin to burn in the worst way possible. “get out. i’m not fucking you, roman. that’s not going to change my mind on ending whatever this is between us.” she huffed.

y/n hadn’t realized that across the hall, ted had opened the door to further air out the room because even with the window open, cody was absolutely hotboxing the fuck out of their enclosed space. he just so happened to have opened the door right when y/n had already turned back around.

“close the door, doll. it doesn’t have to be like this, come on. just one night and i can make you forget all about that guy and we can go back to having our little dates and what not.” roman continued to press, clearly not caring that ted was watching from his doorway. he walked towards her, placing his hand on her waist and already moving to shut the door closed before she smacked his hand away from her.

“stop fucking touching me, roman! how many times do i have to say it to get it through your fucking skull? you and me should go back to being just friends before i hurt anyone else. and if you still want to even be considered my friend, i suggest you walk your ass right out of this room.” y/n seethed.

roman grunted, “you’re being fucking difficult. so you’ll put out for some other dude but not me? come on, doll. stop being such a fucking prude.” roman placed his hand on the door and began to shut it, as he backed y/n into the wall, but before he could shut the door and y/n could push him away, the sound of a hand colliding with the door to keep it open rang throughout the hall.

“don’t call her that, roman.” ted called from where he stood behind cody, who was currently pressing his entire body weight against the door to push it all the way open.

roman took a step back from y/n, watching as cody stood in front of her protectively, swaying side to side in his doped haze. cody had a hand out behind him, keeping y/n tucked behind his frame as he glared at roman through his bloodshot eyes.

ted stepped in to the room, observing the obvious tension that had risen between cody and roman. ted knew cody would have probably said every insult that existed to roman and chewed him up if he were sober, but cody had gone nonverbal not too long after he had started smoking - a sign that the man was long gone in the clouds. even though the man was high out of his mind and couldn’t even hold himself up on his own two feet, something about hearing roman and y/n had made cody shoot out of his seat and storm over to the room before ted could even react - and ted was the sober one.

“ted. codes. it’s cool, i’m just trying to work something out with my girl. i’m not giving up on her. on us.” roman tried to reason. ted pulled a face when roman referred to y/n as his girl, while cody had visibly grown angrier.

“roman, if y/n is your girl then why don’t you just fucking listen to her and leave. we don’t want any trouble, man, and i’m sure you don’t want any either.” ted replied with a sigh, reaching out to place a hand on roman’s shoulder. roman shrugged off ted’s hand.

“look, i don’t care how close you two are to her. but what happens between me and y/n is none of your business. now, let me work things out with my girl.” he tried to get the other two to leave the room.

cody grabbed y/n’s wrist from behind him, pulling her in front of him and turning her around so her back was facing roman. he wrapped an arm around her shoulders to keep her pressed against his front as his other hand lifted the back of her shirt to proudly display the mark he had left on her lower back. y/n yelped at the sudden action, not knowing what cody was trying to do until she felt him lift her shirt and her eyes widened in realization. ted and roman both stared at cody’s name that had been engraved in her skin. the cut that read “cody’s <3” still red and irritated - a sign that it was a new addition to y/n’s body.

and when roman met cody’s gaze, he knew that if looks could kill, he’d be six feet under. cody narrowed his gaze at roman, and growled out a single word that could have been taken as a threat with how much malice it held.

“mine.”

|| next part ||

[gravity-barbie]

The Sparrows dating someone with ADHD HCs

Request

Viktor version

Masterlist

Marcus Hargreeves

-Marcus is understanding, he has to deal with siblings with far worse quirks than any of yours, things like your distractibility and hyperactivity rarely get to him

-Still, he is a responsible type, and if you’re not the best at managing your symptoms his leader instincts kick in and he goes out of his way to help you break bad habits and and bring some order into your life

-He’s a natural problem-solver and you have plenty to go around, it may feel overbearing or even patronising at times, but really the amount of things he does to make your life easier in between his already packed schedule is very sweet

-You two are quite different so some (mostly harmless) clashing is to be expected, he wishes you had more direction and caution, you wish he was more spontaneous and relaxed, but with proper communication these differences just make you a better match

Ben Hargreeves

-Ben’s willing to adjust to your ‘difficult’ traits, for instance, before he knew you had adhd, he would get offended and annoyed by you zoning out or easily getting distracted from him, and honestly even now it sometimes makes him a bit self-conscious but he works to manage those feelings

-He himself is an irritable and impatient person, (something you may have in common) so he does get frustrated with you sometimes but he always scolds himself for it, especially since he knows you tolerate worse faults from him

-If he ever sees anyone else get frustrated with you he’s so outraged and protective, he’d absolutely get in a fight over it

-Once he’s used to it he really likes your spontaneous nature, he does have a very fun side, so he’s always up for wild outings you suggest in the middle of the night or anything else like that

Fei Hargreeves

-You and Fei are pretty dissimilar, she’s cautious, collected, a planner, whereas you pretty much can’t help being a bit reckless and disorganised, but though it takes some getting used to, Fei isn’t bothered by your differences, if anything she’s kind of fascinated by them

-She offers advice sometimes, like reminders of consequences you tend not to consider, but if you don’t ask for her help she’s not going to overstep, she respects your right to make your own choices, even one’s she’d never make

-If you do want her help though, she’s the perfect person to ground you, incredibly helpful with things like organisation and navigating your more difficult emotions, without ever taking all responsibility off of you

-Fei doesn’t like being cooped up much more than you do, so the two of you enjoy a lot of physical, outdoorsy activities together, which are great for both burning through your energy and bonding with her

Alphonso Hargreeves

-Alphonso can be just as unfocused and unorganised as you are so he doesn’t hold that against you, if anything he’s kind of glad that’s something you share cause it means you can’t hold it against him either

-Though neither of you have the best life skills which can be a problem, he definitely wishes he could offer you more help when you’re struggling

-Where you really differ is your energy levels, he’d be content to just cuddle all day and you can hardly sit still through the length of a movie, he does actually love your spontaneity but he can only participate in small doses

-You’re probably easily stressed and irritated which is a little difficult for him since he really just wants to live life as comfortably as he can, but on the upside because of that he’s rarely a cause of your stress and is great at relaxing you

Sloane Hargreeves

-Those traits you’ve probably been scolded for your whole life, being hyperactive, emotional, even thoughtless, Sloane finds them so endearing, as there isn’t a part of you that she doesn’t accept wholeheartedly

-She’ll gladly offer help if you need it, for instance she likes leaving little post-it notes around your place with important reminders and sweet affirmations, however she’s not overbearing, she knows how frustrating it is to be micromanaged and trusts you to make your own decisions

-Maybe it’s because she was raised around some of the rudest people on planet earth, but she never holds it against you if you talk over someone or accidentally say something inappropriate, she might offer a gentle critique but she’ll also be quick to defend you if someone else has a problem with it

-She absolutely loves to hear you ramble, and how bizarre your train of thought can be, it makes her wish her power was reading minds so she could explore yours

Jayme Hargreeves

-Honestly if anyone else were as energetic and inattentive as you are that would really grate on Jayme, but luckily she loves you so she only finds it charming, not that she’s above poking fun at you for it

-Being the silent type she doesn’t mind how talkative you are, it balances out, granted it certainly helps that you’re one of the few people in the world she deems worth listening to

-She’s not usually one to volunteer her time for others, but understanding the added difficulty your ADHD causes you she always offers to help you with things like paperwork, cleaning and the like

-If anyone ever gives you crap in front of her it’s there funeral, if someone as unsociable and irritable as Jayme can appreciate you, they have no excuse not to in her eyes

[xotaemintol]

JONGTAE X BLACK FEM READER: “Persistence.”

“And I think we’re…in…too…deep…don’t wanna…pull out.”

Side note: Originally I was gonna make this a multiple part series because I really really liked the plot but, knowing me, I’ll probably only be able to get out one or two parts before I get frustrated and stuff, so for now, this is just really the set up, some smut. I really just wanted to put this out because I actually really like the idea and since I know I probably won’t be writing more for this, I don’t see a reason for it to collect dust, I really do want to write more for this, but for now, it’s just this. I hope you enjoy it despite it not being heavily detailed or not exactly perfect, the support is always greatly appreciated and so is the feedback🩷

TWS: Poly relationship, oral sex (fem receiving), fingering, and a bunch of kissing (not very detailed smut).

PRONOUNS USED: None (Fem reader)

Plot: After turning them down and ignoring their flirting, Jonghyun and Taemin persist after claiming to have fallen in love with you at first sight. After a long game of cat and mouse, they’ve finally gotten you where they want you, and see to it that they please you before you leave for a long business trip in America.

Persistent. They just wouldn't back down like all the others did, usually when you turned idols down they'd give it one more shot before throwing in the towel. But Jonghyun and Taemin just wouldn't give it up, every time you denied their offer for breakfast, they'd suggest brunch instead, you already ate? Then lunch instead? Not hungry? What about a movie? No? What about shopping instead at 3 o'clock? It seemed that for your every no or excuse you had, they had another option, while at first, it was slightly annoying being pestered by the two men despite your obvious disinterest, their flirting started growing on you quickly. Before you knew what was happening you were talking to them every day, even if you were at work, if they sent a text you’d stop in the middle of a sentence just to respond, so much so, that everyone in the office wondered who you could be talking to and bugged you about details on who the lucky guy was that managed to catch your attention.

Although you were assuring everyone that it was nothing and that you'd stop talking in days, you were cheesing at your phone with that love glow clear in your complexion. After no longer than seven months their flirting and consistency had broken you down, you just couldn't get enough of them and you couldn't get why. Unlike every other time you were in a relationship or situationship, you were missing out on company dinners and even prioritizing the amount of time you spent with them. When they first noticed they teased you about it as they recalled the way you rolled your eyes at their compliments and left them on read for hours at a time, all of it made you wonder why they were so relentless, so you asked.

“Why didn't you give up when I first turned you down anyway?” At first, they both seemed embarrassed to answer, but it quickly changed. “Would you give up if you fell in love at first sight?” You laughed at Jonghyun’s answer but stopped as you realized that he was serious. “Fell in love at first sight?” You asked yourself mentally, “How could he be so reckless?” You still couldn't help but smile though, you found it cute even if it wasn't exactly true. “Well, what about you Taemin?” you asked. Just as Jonghyun did Taemin hesitated and smiled at you shyly, his cheeks turning pink as he looked away from you and said: “You’d fall in love if you saw the way you looked at me too…” You could only sit baffled by their responses, “How can they both be so reckless?!” You sighed and smiled at them because even though you looked annoyed, you were actually swooning over the loving and wholesome looks in their eyes. “Well, that's very cute and super sweet,” You said as you crossed your legs under the table, “But no way is that why you both ignored me ignoring you.”

Their lack of response that day after you said that made it clear that they were serious, you couldn't deny it anymore after that. The two hopeless romantics had fallen in love at first sight and there was no getting away from them, no matter how much you pretended to be annoyed by them or their flirting. Especially since you were starting to fall so quickly for them both, while part of you fought with yourself for being interested in two men at once and for being so careless and ignoring your policy about dating idols, every other part was buzzing with joy with every text, call, and date. Things were going so perfectly too since they had never once tried to make a move on you, so you didn't feel like they were just two strange K-pop idols who wanted to try their luck with a black woman. But even after all the time you were spending together, neither of them had taken the next step and asked you to be their girlfriend, you didn’t want to be too upset about it but with an upcoming business trip that would last for six months, you wanted to leave on a high and come back to your two favorite boys smothering you even more than they usually would.

You had a month to prepare for the trip and you spent every day after work with them, every chance they got to make it official they seemed to miss or hesitate and you were starting to worry that they might never try making it official, so after work when Jonghyun picked you up you finally told him about the trip and decided to tell Taemin when you got to his house since you were already on your way there.

“Six months? How far are you going?” He asked, you sighed and leaned back against the leather seat with your legs crossed underneath the blanket he had thrown over you, “I'll be in America.” You said, for a quick second he glanced at you as he processed what you had said. His reaction was exactly what you were expecting, “Why didn't you tell us sooner?! What are we supposed to do while you're gone?!” The worry in his voice felt oddly warm, you weren't used to it, but it felt nice to see him get upset about it. After explaining that you'd be able to talk to them every day Jonghyun could only sigh and complain about missing you already. When you finally got to Taemin’s house Jonghyun immediately dropped his composure and told Taemin that you were trying to leave them. As Taemin walked around the counter with a shocked expression he asked the same thing that Jonghyun did; “Why didn't you tell us sooner?! What are we supposed to do while you're gone?!” Again, that panicked reaction made you smile, that strange warm feeling in your stomach as they both stood in front of you asking you a million and one questions made you secretly swoon.

“I guess we have no choice…” Jonghyun said, Taemin sighed and looked at him as if he were asking if he was sure or not, to which Jonghyun nodded with a disappointed expression on his face. “What is it?” You asked getting curious. Taemin said nothing and went into the living area, while Jonghyun stood in front of you and held your hands lovingly. “We wanted to wait till next month to do this because we weren't sure if it was too soon to ask or not.” Your hands began to sweat, the way he looked into your eyes made your knees feel weak and your heart started to pound. “Are they finally gonna ask?” You fought back a smile as you feigned an annoyed expression and raised your eyebrows, “What? You gonna ask if I'll finally say yes to going to breakfast with you?” You asked jokingly to soothe your anxious feelings, but Jonghyun’s gentle and nervous smile didn't help you fight the nerves at all, in fact, it only made it worse since he's usually so relaxed around you, this sudden 180 was making you anticipate even more what might they ask.

But nothing could've prepared you for when Taemin came back with a gift bag in your favorite color and a cute bear with a heart and card in the middle. How cheesy. You laughed as he handed them to you with an uneasy expression on his red face, “It's been some years since we've done something like this…so we didn't know how to do it,” Taemin said as he stood beside Jonghyun. You couldn't deny how cute it was that he was admitting that they hadn't dated in years, especially since you've been the way. That shyness only made them more charming in that moment. “It's hard for us both to ask at the same time,” Jonghyun said, “But, will you be our girlfriend?” Never in your entire life had such a wholesome question given you such intense butterflies, how could you say no? After denying your feelings for so long, you were finally giving in as you smiled and nodded your head and said; “Yes.” You could visibly see the relief wash over them as you did, they both sighed happily and laughed as you sat the bag and bear down on the kitchen counter. “What? Did you think I'd say no?”

After just a week of officially dating, you only had three days left to spend in South Korea before you had to leave for work. Luckily, you had those three days off so you planned to spend all of them with both of your loving and clingy boyfriends. The first day was spent with them taking you to different places you had declined to go to before, and the second was spent with you taking them to places you loved going alone, in those two days the three of you were sharing parts of yourself that had been hidden for years, the way you all seemed to fit so perfectly together made you fall deeper. As the day was ending on the second day they suggested that you stay out with them just a little longer, which you begrudgingly agreed to while knowing feel and well that you’d just end up at one of their houses, and you were right, at 7 o’clock you ended up sandwiched between them on Taemin’s sofa with both of them holding your hands as you watched a movie Jonghyun had picked.

For a while the moment was wholesome, but somehow, it turned when you felt a wandering hand slip out of your own and rest on top of your thigh. Of course, Jonghyun was the first to make a move, but you didn’t acknowledge it until you felt his fingertips inching further up your bare thigh. All it took was a glance that lasted just a second too long for the two of you to begin inching closer and closer until your lips finally met, for the first time, you understood why people liked kissing so much. The feeling of his soft lips against yours as you leaned back against Taemin gave you such a strong feeling of passion that you had never experienced before, he was slow and gentle, the way his tongue so softly slipped between your lips made your back arch as you moaned quietly into his mouth. The moment you had pulled away from Jonghyun to catch your breath, Taemin was pulling you in for a kiss as well. The way that his lips moved against yours said anxious, he kissed you as if he had been dying of thirst his entire life.

Taemin's soft lips were hot to the touch, and the feeling of his tongue against yours made you squeeze your thighs together as his hand slid up to your face to hold you closer. As Taemin did this you could feel Jonghyun positioning himself between your legs, the feeling made you jump and as you felt his warm lips on your soft skin you pulled away from Taemin and quickly stopped him with a nervous and breathless laugh, saying in a shaky voice; “It…It’s getting late…maybe I should go…before we get carried away…” As you said this they both smiled at you, as Jonghyun kissed the inside of your thigh Taemin kissed the side of your neck. Just feeling them on two different ends made you melt into the soft sofa as you bit your lip, you didn’t want to leave, but you felt so excited that you thought if they kept going you’d turn into a wild animal. “Don’t you think it’s too late for that?” Taemin whispered in your ear, chills shot down your spine as your back arches. “What’s the point in holding ourselves back when we only have you for a few more hours?” Jonghyun asked. The sound of his sweet voice made your whole body tingle with excitement, somehow, in the blink of an eye your clothes were scattered out on the floor and as Jonghyun’s tongue dove in between your delicate folds, Taemin kissed you until your lips were sore.

Your fingers tangled in Jonghyun's hair as you struggled to breathe with Taemin’s tongue in your mouth, it felt like you were floating, with every flick of their tongue, caress of their fingers, and short breath you were excelling higher and higher into pure bliss. It didn’t even take more than ten minutes for that earth-shattering climax to start creeping up on you, and they could tell by the way your body trembled, the sweat on your body made your brown skin glisten as you pulled away from Taemin and gasped for air. The way your voice became louder and higher in pitch was telling enough for them, neither of them wanted to stop until you had finally reached that peak, so to ensure that you’d get the sweet release you had so rightfully deserved, Jonghyun slipped two fingers inside of you carefully and let Taemin use his to massage circles on your clit.

“Oh god!” You cried out in pleasure as you threw your head back and closed your eyes tightly, nothing had ever felt so good, the pleasure was so great, and your body was starting to crumble as you moved your hips against their hands while struggling to keep up with their movements. “That’s it, baby, let it out.” The sound of Jonghyun’s honey-like voice only made you feel wetter, it made you need him more and the way that he angled them made that desire unbearable. “You’re such a pretty girl, are you gonna cum for us darling?” You nodded your head at Taemin’s question and looked at him, your eyes were glossed over as your face contorted with pleasure, just looking into his eyes made that feeling double inside of you. And as they both sped up you were falling apart at the seams, your excitement pooled onto the sofa and your body tensed up despite the relaxing and yet intense feeling of an orgasm washing over you.

“Oh, such a good girl.” Jonghyun praised, “You did such a good job baby, you came so fast.” You melted at his compliments as he pulled his fingers away slowly, still feeling aroused you pulled him closer and kissed him, tasting yourself on his lips made the experience feel so sensual, you knew then that you couldn’t just stop there. So as you pulled away and they got up to help you get cleaned up you stopped them, with both of them now standing you got on your knees in front of them both, still fully naked and dripping with lust as your eyes flickered between them both. Before they could say anything you asked asked in a tone so unbelievably beautiful; “Can we keep going?”

[depressedhatakekakashi]

Goodboy, Pakkun

Words: 1,683

Au: College Professors Au/Modern au

For: @punk-pandame

Gai was in the midst of a passionate discussion with his students about the difference between the ancient mythologies and the newer ideas that permeated through society.

Neji was just about to argue that these old beliefs held no value anymore because of the scientific knowledge that society had gained over time, and Gai would have countered his argument with a reminder that knowing more about how their world works didn’t prove that those old stories of gods and heroes were fabrications of an adventurous mind.

The conversation that would have followed was guaranteed to be both glorious and frustrating, as it always was.

Unfortunately, it was an argument that never happened. Just as Neji opened his mouth to protest the fable Gai had just finished reading, about the messenger god Naruto, the door to his classroom slammed open and Uzuamki Naruto stuck his head in.

The look of sheer panic on his face caught Gai’s attention right now.

“Kakashi-Sensei-“

Whatever message Naruto had to deliver; Gai didn’t wait around to hear it. As soon as his boyfriends name left the young man’s mouth, he rushed out the door. He barrelled past the students who littered the hallway slowly making their way toward their next class or just mulling about trying to kill time while their friends finished their classes.

Kakashi’s classroom was two long hallways away from Gai’s. Any other day that would be a small distance for him to walk, perhaps even a challenge to see how long it took him to get from his classroom door to Kakashi’s.

Today, it felt like an endless run.

No matter how fast he ran it just wasn’t fast enough.

When he finally arrived, he shoved the door open without concern for who might be on the other side and rushed in. On the other side he was greeted by complete silence. There wasn’t a single student sitting in any of their seats, and even Kakashi was no where in sight.

Kakashi, who was always front and centre in the room asking his students all sorts of questions about the period they were currently learning about. The emptiness didn’t make any sense. Kakashi was supposed to be in the middle of class.

“Ruff!”

Pakkun’s voice echoed in the empty classroom, directing Gai’s attention to the one part of the room he couldn’t see.

Behind Kakashi’s desk.

Ever since he’d gotten the job Kakashi had been considered weird for moving his desk against the furthest wall from the door and positing it so that whenever he was sitting, he had a clear view of the door.

That clear view for him, meant a blocked view for anyone staring at the desk from the doorway. The perfect hiding place for a man who didn’t want to be seen.

“Kakashi?” he called out, more to ensure that his partner knew he was there than anything else. Most of the time he’d have no shot at sneaking up on Kakashi, but he had no idea what kind of condition his partner was in.

“Here,” a meek reply came from behind the desk, followed by another quieter bark from Pakkun. Every alarm in Gai’s brain went off at once. He could count on one hand how many times he’d heard Kakashi speaking with such a weak voice, and none of those events could be filed under ‘happy memories.

Bolting forward he just narrowly avoided crashing straight into the wall beside the desk. When he looked down, he saw his boyfriend huddled into himself, Pakkun standing on his back legs directly in front of him with his front paws on his knees.

It was bad.

              Taking a cautious step forward, he examined the situation a bit closer.

              Kakashi wasn’t just huddled away behind his desk, he had completely withdrawn into himself. His arms were wrapped around his legs holding them close to his chest, and although Pakkun was standing right in front of him, his face was buried in his knees.

              Even as Gai slowly inched forward he didn’t bother to look up at him or acknowledge his presence at all. He just sat there, completely closed off from the world around him.

              “What…happened?” Gai asked cautiously, hoping that his question didn’t make things worse but also knowing he had to ask it. there was little he could do for Kakashi if he didn’t know what had caused him to crumble so badly.

              “Crash.”

              Gai frowned. He wasn’t aware of any crash happening on the property, and even if there had been one it wasn’t guaranteed to trigger Kakashi. Kakashi had seen tons of crashes over the years, and even helped a student out of their car after they’d wrapped it around one of the campus tree’s.

              For a crash to cause this sort of reaction, it had to be bad, and if that were the case Gai would have heard about it. Everyone would have. There was nothing that happened on campus that didn’t get around within a few short minutes. Still, if Kakashi said there was a crash, there was a crash.

              Maybe the information vine was just working slow today, or it had skipped over Gai’s class.

              “A crash,” he repeated, trying his best to understand the situation. “Was anyone hurt?”

              “Not today,” Gai breathed a sigh of relief. There was no crash today, which meant no one was hurt. Well, no one except for Kakashi.

              “So…” Sliding into the spot beside Kakashi, he wiggled into a comfortable position and stared at his partner. “Can you tell me more?”

              Lifting his head off his knees, Kakashi looked at him with one puffy red eye and Gai sucked in a harsh breath. Not only had his partner retracted into himself in a panic, but he’d been crying. Whatever had happened, it triggered one of his worst memories.

              It made sense now why Naruto had sounded so panicked when he entered his classroom.

              “We were...talking about history,” Kakashi explained, taking his time to collect his thoughts before he spoke. “One of my students asked why I thought history was important.”

              “Your favorite question,” Gai nodded along. Over the years he’d listened to many stories about those classroom discussions about the importance of history. “But today was different?”

              Kakashi nodded. “You know how I sometimes ask my students if there’s anything they remember growing up? An important event that really…stuck with them?”

              “I do,” he confirmed. “Usually they talk about sports, right?” seeing a smile tugging at Kakashi’s lips he did a mental fist pump. It was a long ways away from Kakashi being ok, but if he was still able to smile it meant things weren’t as bad as they could be.

              “Some of them mentioned sports,” he admitted. “Some of them talked about the plant that blew up when we were in college ourselves, but then Kiba mentioned something…else.”

              “A crash?” he asked, his eyes glancing down to Kakashi’s hands when he saw his finger’s curling into the fabric of his pants. “Deep breath.”

              “Woof!”

              Turning to Pakkun, Kakashi offered a weak smile. “I know, it’s just… it was more than a crash,” his good eye focused on the wall directly behind Pakkun, glazing over slightly as he thought back to the moment that had led to all of this. “He went into detail. Fire, ambulance lights, a body on a stretcher covered by a blanket…”

              Gai hadn’t been there, but he’d heard the story enough to know what scene Kiba had been depicting for the class. Most people would consider it a gut-wrenching scene, pictures of the bloody wheel and broken glass plastered on TV screens with the words ‘Police Chief dies in horrifying car crash.’ blinking across the bottom of the screen.

              Nothing was mentioned of the teenager who’d also been in the car when it was run off of the road, but he’d experienced every terrible moment of that crash.

              For Kakashi, it wasn’t just gut wrenching.

              It was the worst day of his life.

              “I saw him again,” Kakashi continued, his voice cracking between the last two words. “It was like I was back there. One second, I was standing in front of my class teaching them the impact history has on us and the next…”

              If he’d intended to say anything else, it never came. His head fell back onto his knees with a soft thud and he gripped his pant legs for dear life. Before long the only thing Gai could hear was the soft sound of crying being muffled by his partners legs.

              “Here,” sliding an arm around Kakashi’s shoulders, he pulled him tight against his body. “I’ve got you.”

              Although he didn’t lift his head, Kakashi’s body relaxed slightly against Gai’s.

              He couldn’t imagine what Kakashi was going through. Even though he’d also lost his father young, he’d never had the misfortune of seeing his mangled body being taken away on a stretcher.

              The memories of his father’s death were sad, but they were also full of pride for the man he looked up to. Meanwhile, Kakashi’s memories were full of blood, panic, and a profound sadness that he tried his best to ignore most days.

              Today, unfortunately, it was a memory he’d been forced to face head on without any warning.

              While he held Kakashi, Pakkun moved his paws off his legs and manoeuvred himself so that his back was pressed against Kakashi’s leg. It was a position Gai had seen the small pug take up many times, whenever he was in the room with Kakashi.

              When Pakkun wasn’t the only one there to watch over him.

              “Good boy,” he reached out with his other hand to pat Pakkun’s head and tucked away a little reminder to give the pug an extra helping of treats when they got home later. A thank you for taking care of Kakashi.

            Kakashi might roll his eyes and remind him that it was Pakkun’s job to do that, but he didn’t care. He deserved all the treats Gai had to offer for watching over Kakashi when he couldn’t.

[naavispider]

can you write a one-shot in which quaritch consoles spider after a violent tantrum in his cell? sorry for my english i'm french

Why are you apoLogisiNg for your english it's literally perfect 😭 Of course I can, just because of the way you worded this, it made me chuckle 💞

Spider cried out with a groan of pain as he shouldered the thick glass doors to the cell for the hundredth time. He could feel the bruise that had already formed, beginning to blossom over his upper arm and across his shoulder. It hurt, but he'd be damned if he was just going to sit in a corner and succumb to hopelessness.

He swore under his breath at the arrogance of the glass's rigidity. Then he shouted the curse for the world to hear. The doors hadn't budged in two hours - he hadn't even made a dent.

Fuck.

He screamed in frustration, moving towards the double sided glass that surely hid an entire team of demons. He pictured them all watching him with evil smirks, exchanging snide comments at his anguish.

"You gonna let me outta here? Huh?" He yelled, squaring up to the window. "You fucking cowards! Stick your heads up the darkest parts of my ass!"

He panted heavily, throwing every ounce of fury at the blank glass. When this failed to provoke a response, he hurled himself at the door again, shrieking when his abused shoulder made contact with the glass once more.

"That's enough, Spider," came a distorted voice from the corner of the room.

He jumped as if burned. In all the long hours he'd been confined in here, he'd never been spoken to. He cast his eyes around for the source of the noise - it was coming from a small speaker set into the ceiling in the far corner. He growled at the mirror. "Eat my ass!"

Just to see what would happen, he rammed the door again, this time biting down on his tongue, so all that escaped him was a pained grunt. He hissed at the hidden demons beyond the window.

A flash of movement near the door caused him to spin around again. His heart was pounding as he faced the glass doors, unsure whether he should make a stand, or back away to give himself a few more seconds. The sight of the 10 feet tall, solid avatar approaching the cell was enough to send his tired mind into overdrive. Oh Eywa.

The avatar was coming to hurt him. He was coming to tie him down and torture him. He was getting closer to the glass doors... he was pressing a passcode into the keypad... the doors were sliding open...

Spider hissed, realising he hadn't made a move - too paralysed by fear to think straight. The doors hissed open and the giant figure stepped cautiously inside. Spider barely had time to register the authoritative expression on the man's face before he threw himself around him, making a break for the doors.

He growled as he stepped forward, but he knew before he'd made it half way that it wasn't going to work.

"Not so fast, little one!" the man called firmly, reaching for Spider's middle and picking him completely up off the floor.

His heart thrummed against his chest and his breaths came in pants as he flung his legs out to kick at the avatar, while clawing at the man's arms with his hands. He hissed again, injecting as much venom into the sound as he was capable of.

"Hey!" The avatar shouted harshly, struggling under Spider's assault.

"Put me down!" Spider cried, thrashing as much as he could in an attempt to slip out of the man's grasp and make another run for it.

The man held him at arm's length, before placing him down against the far wall of the cell, furthest away from the doors. As soon as his feet hit the ground, Spider stopped kicking at the man and doubled his efforts into scratching and punching the long blue forearms that held him against the wall.

"You gotta calm down, kid. You got some fight in you, I can see that."

Spider paused his onslaught for a split second to look at the man's face, disturbed by the eye contact and the almost admiring expression he found there. He tried to wrench the man's arms off his shoulders. His left was already sore from ramming the door, and the way the avatar was gripping him only added to the pain. He hissed again, not trusting his voice.

"Easy, easy there." The man's grip softened, and as Spider glared at him, he felt his own struggles start to subside.

It didn't seem like the man was trying to hurt him - he tested the situation and stopped trying to pull the avatar's arms off him for a few seconds.

"There we go. Okay, we're making progress. Now I'm gonna let go, alright? There's no point running anywhere, as you damn well know those doors won't open without the passcode."

The man assessed Spider for a second, judging his reaction, before hesitantly withdrawing his hands. Breathless, Spider glowered at him. His eyes darted to the doors beyond the man, and sure enough they had shut tightly again.

He threw his head back against the wall in despair.

"Alright..." the man said in a pleased tone.

Spider wanted to throw some colourful insult at the man, but his head was empty. Damn his brain, just as he needed something good.

"Now, we never got ourselves properly acquainted. I'm Quaritch." The avatar paused, watching Spider closely. "The recombinant version of him at least." He paused again, and his next words came slowly, as if it was a struggle to find them. "Are you... aware of Miles Quaritch?"

Spider's pounding heart had increased in ferocity, and now he was certain something was wrong. It was painful in his chest, and his head was turning dizzy... he wasn't getting enough oxygen... he balled his fists to stop them shaking as a cold sweat started to bead over the back of his neck and shoulders. Was he having a heart attack?

"Kid?"

Even with his eyes closed, Spider could hear the frown in the man's voice. In Quaritch's voice.

He opened his eyes. Get a grip on yourself. Deep breaths. He stared Quaritch directly in the eye.

"I know who you are."

Quaritch tilted his head encouragingly, or perhaps it was a gesture of anxiety at what Spider knew.

"I know exactly who you are, and what you've done, txanfwìngtu!" Images flashed before his eyes of all the heinous acts he knew his father was responsible for - the felling of the Hometree, the bombing of a site near the Tree of Souls, the families that died there, the children left orphaned. He supposed he was one of them.

He had only ever seen Quaritch's face a couple of times. When he was younger and curious about his bio parents, the scientists had given him a carefully chosen video log that Quaritch had made before he died. He remembered the bile that bubbled in the back of his throat as he watched, he recalled the poisonous words that the colonel had spewn about the Na'vi and Spider's home as if were yesterday. He had turned the log off before it ended, giving it back to Norm and telling him to destroy it. He'd never wanted to see the man's face again.

And so, when Spider looked at the enlarged blue features in front of him now, the same feelings of rage and betrayal spread through his stomach like a tsunami. It brought nausea flooding up his throat.

"Ahhh!" He screamed, losing control of his mind and body as he furiously lunged around Quaritch and breaking for the door.

Quaritch could have stopped him, but he must have known that Spider couldn't go anywhere. Spider ran for the exit, throwing his shoulder once more against the glass, desperately hoping that this time it would work. He panicked as he felt Quaritch approach him.

"Stay away!" He cried, cursing in both Na'vi and English as panic overtook him. He began to feel dizzy, but he couldn't stop trying to force the door open. It was his only escape route.

It was hopeless.

He had to keep trying.

No.

No, stop!

Arms were around him, pulling him back, wrapping around his torso, trapping his arms to his sides, and he was pressed against a cool blue stomach. He wasn't aware of what his voice was doing, but he could hear soothing words coming from somewhere above him - coming from Quaritch.

He tried to catch his breath as his vision swam in front of him.

"Breathe, Spider. You're hyperventilating. I'm not gonna hurt you. Just relax and breathe, like me..."

Spider held onto the words. After a few moments of futile struggling, he attempted to match his breathing with the large chest against him.

"There you go, easy does it... Jesus."

Eventually, the dizziness cleared from Spider's head and the room seemed to quieten. He became aware for the first time that Quaritch had enveloped him in a (presumably reassuring) hold, and Spider's knees were on the floor.

"Get off of me," Spider stuttered out when he finally found his voice again. However, it didn't come out as forceful as he wanted.

"Sure, kid," the man rumbled next to him. After a few more moments, Quaritch spoke again. "Okay, so you clearly know all about your father."

Spider remained silent. There was nothing he could do, held like this. Besides, he was exhausted from the all of the recent strains on his body.

"I'm not that man. I'm not an avatar. Your father isn't alive, lying in some link somewhere. I got his memories, and most of his personality. But I'm a different man."

Still, Spider said nothing.

"Now, no one calls you Miles, is that right? What have I gotta call you then?" He released his grip slightly, and Spider took that chance to wriggle away, sliding across the floor till he hit the wall and bringing his knees up to his chest.

"Spider." He said after a long moment.

"Spider, huh?" Quaritch huffed in amusement. "I can work with that. Now how about we start from the beginning. Tell me who your parents are."

[made-by-marlow]

The Pomegranate Tree [sdv Elliott x male farmer oc] Part Four: The Dandilion

ao3 version

Masterlist | First | Next

There was a part of Hazel that made an effort to look at bartenders and baristas as they worked. It was his favorite form of people watching. A girl with cropped blue hair and a red dress looked completely focused on her work. Cooking the food, filling drinks, running around the kitchen. Her movement was swift, with the appropriate amount of rush. Fast, but not overwhelming. The job seemed enjoyable. The blue-haired girl slid what seemed to be her tenth beer to an older woman with fluffy blonde curls.

The saloon was filled with strangers. Some he knew, such as Lewis and Robin. Robin could be seen in the distance dancing with what he assumed to be a husband or partner. The rest were all strangers. This seemed like the perfect time to get to know everyone.

At the same time, it was all so overwhelming. Hazel made his way to a corner, next to a man seemingly in his late 20s, a scratchy beard stained with alcohol.

"Hi-"

"I don't know you. Why are you talking to me?" The expression on the strangers face seemed more confused than mean. As if he genuinely didn't know why a total stranger would go up to him and introduce himself. And you know what, he had a point. It was hard to guess whether or not each person actually wanted to be approached. It was a thought that made him not want to approach people at all. Alas, he needed friends. This was his chance.

"Ah. I'm sorry."

The forward stranger returned to his drink, blocking out Hazel. He made a mental note not to approach anyone alone with a beer. A social rule he learned a moment too late. Instead, he made his way over to a pool table. Three kids appeared to be teenagers, but each had a fruity looking drink. Either they each had a fake-ID, which would be hard to get away with in a small town where everyone knows everyone, or they were really of age.

The kid with fluffy blond hair tosses his stick to the side in agony, feigned or not. A boy across from him with violet hair, dark enough to almost look black, smirks as an 8-ball is tapped into the proper hole. A girl with bright purple hair sitting on the couch doesn't seem to care about the other's victory.

"The new farmer!" The girl springs up from the couch, sitting up straight rather than having her feet at the arms of the couch as it was before. Her cherry cocktail was gently placed on the table beside her. "Hazel, is it?"

"Hazel," he confirmed.

"Hazel. Help me." The blond pushes a pool stick into the other's hand. "Two against one. It's fair because he is too good."

"You know most people introduce themselves before begging for help," the other boy says. He meets Hazel's eyes. "Hey. I'm Sebastian. This is my fifth time in a row winning."

"Makes sense."

"And...?" Sebastian waits for the other to introduce himself.

"Sam."

"And Abby," the girl with purple hair chimes in as well. "Abi gail . But just Abby, please." She gets up from the couch, pulling all the balls from the table and setting them up in a triangular form. "If I don't do this part, whoever does is accused of cheating."

The smirk on Sebastian's face returns as Abby backs away.

"Loser goes first," he says.

Living in a big city with a lot of bars, pool was a secret talent of the new farmer. Slowly but surely, his coordination got better as he went on. But really, he was more like Sam. Losing each time. The secret is simply not to care and have a good time whoever wins. Sometimes, losing means you get to laugh at yourself.

Sam manages to strike the white ball, hitting some of the balls on the right and sending them in random directions. Hazel manages to strike the middle, allowing for a more even spread of the balls.

Sebastian strikes a solid colored ball into one of the holes. Sam grows frustrated once again. He attempted to strike a striped ball, missing and knocking one of the solid colored ones into a hole.

As Hazel made his way around the table, he looked up to find the whole crowd of the bar once again. People dancing, chatting, having fun.

In the distance was Elliott.

Talking to a girl.

Of course he is straight, why wouldn't he be? He's charming enough to already be taken, by a girl who appears to be perfect for him. A female version of him. The same orange-blonde hair, only hers was twisted into a side braid that she played with as she talked to the other.

Oh, to be rejected by someone one hadn't even got to know yet.

"Hazel?"

"Yeah, sorry."

Hazel managed to strike a striped ball into the table.

★

There again, was the stranger. He faced the ocean, a red trench coat and flowing orange-blond hair the only thing visible to the farmer.

Frantically, Hazel searched his bag for something to give to the other. Wood, stone, dandelions. Field snacks, tools. Fuck.

Maybe the stranger appreciated the beauty of flowers. For some reason, women seemed to be the only ones who did. Nervously, Hazel clenched the dandelions, took a breath, and approached.

"Hey."

"Farmer Hazel!" There was a strangely off putting tone in the man's voice. Excited. In a way that seemed too good to be true. Hazel swallowed the thought, hoping all of that excitement was genuine.

"Hey," Hazel said again. "I remembered you from earlier, and..." The dandelion, slightly crumpled from Hazel's nervous grip, was moved from his pocket to in front of him, the flower between the two of them. "I got you this."

Elliott's expression changed. An odd mix of confusion and disappointment. It felt like he saw the dandelion as a rejection, unsure of how to respond to it.

"It's... a weed." Hazel had finally realized what he had just done. The dandelion was an insult.

"Oh... I thought it was a flower." Elliott finally let out a nervous laugh. Hazel, still stunned that someone doesn't like flowers, did the same. Penny liked it, why not him?

"I'm sorry, I suppose that was a rather rude response," Elliott said. "I appreciate it, really. But uh, here." Elliott reached into his own pocket and pulled out a crumpled up paper. “I found this. I don't know who wrote it, or why they know what I like this well, but it's pretty accurate."

The note was placed into Hazel's hands. Scratchy handwriting wrote about each of the single men in the town and their interests. How to get to each of their hearts.

"There are only a few 'older' bachelors in town, and none of them are perfect! Harvey is really anxious and weak, but I know he would make a loyal and devoted husband. He likes coffee and pickles.

Elliott is a bit foppish and melodramatic, but he does have a nice chin. He likes crab cakes and pomegranates.

Shane is messy and anti-social. But I think his gruff exterior is a defense mechanism, insulating his softness from the world. He likes Beer, Pizza, and Pepper Poppers."

"Foppish and melodramatic, huh?"

"The things I enjoy are the parts that's accurate. The rest is a matter of opinion." Elliott nervously pinched the skin of his chin between his fingers. "I like to take care of my appearance." He began to mumble to himself. "I hope my chin isn't that big."

"It's a nice feature," Hazel said.

He looked up at the ladder, and sure enough, he did have a nice face. Typically, a chin isn't what one looks at the most when looking at a person. It made a part of Hazel want to draw the other.

"I'm sorry. About the dandelion." Elliott twisted the flower- no, the weed- in his hand, and nervously smiled.

"It's okay. It's the thought that counts." A smile grew on each of their faces as they went separate ways once again.

[9firefly9]

Pumpkin Carving

The Cullen family + Bella carve pumpkins for Halloween. Bella -because of how clumsy she is- isn’t allowed to carve a pumpkin. Everyone’s worried she’ll hurt herself.

Bella stares with agitation at Edward and Emmet as they hall huge pumpkins from outside into the inside of the large Cullen house. With an annoyed huff she turns back toward the table she’s been instructed to sit at and glares at the knives that were quickly shoved to the other side of the table when she arrived.

Today everyone planned to carve and gut pumpkins for Halloween. Bella was extremely excited to carve a design onto her pumpkin, but the first thing she had been told when she entered the house was to NOT TOUCH THE KNIVES. Apparently she’s “too clumsy” and “will probably hurt herself”. So she had been appointed the job of gutting her pumpkin only. Her least favourite part of making Jack-o lanterns.

So she sits at the table brooding while everyone else goes and fetches the pumpkins giving her an apologetic smiles as they pass her.

After a few moments the pumpkins have all been moved from outside to the big table. Everyone comes back to the table to take their seats. While no one’s looking Bella gets up and reaches for a knife. She’s so close to touching one when suddenly she sees a flash in the corner of her eye. Suddenly Emmet is standing in front of her, holding the knife she was just reaching for away from her. Bella groans as she slumps back into her chair.

“Sorry Bella, but we can’t have you hurting yourself. Your father would try to kill us.” Says apologetically and pushes the knives even farther away from her.

Bella watched Alice skip over to the seat beside her, knife already in hand. Alice grabs a pumpkin from the centre of the table and pulls it closer to her. Then with the speed of a bullet she cuts open the top of her pumpkin and begins digging her hands into it’s guts.

Alice turns to Bella and gives her a playful smile as she wiggles her orange mucky fingers at her. Bella scrunches her nose on disgust and seats Alice’s hands away as Alice threatens to move closer to her.

Bella goes to move out of her seat while giggling at Alice when she hears Carlisle laughing above her. Bella’s gaze quickly snaps up to meet Carlisle’s kind eyes staring at her in amusement.

“Here you go, Bella. I cut the tip for you.” He says with a warm smile, handing her a pumpkin that’s ready to be gutted. She grunts as the pumpkin’s full weight hits her weak arms and she struggles to keep her balance and not topple over. She manages to fling the pumpkin back onto the table and looks over at Alice. Her shoulders drop.

Alice was already done. Her pumpkin was gutted so perfectly that every spot on the inside was as smooth as glass. She had a perfect carving of a gorgeous witch with a large floppy hat. It looked as if there had been no struggle cutting the design. Everything about the pumpkin was perfect.

Bella looked back at her yet to be gutted pumpkin in defeat. She’d never be as perfect as Alice.

In the corner of her eye Bella saw Edward making his way toward her. When he gets close enough he takes a seat on her other side and grabs a pumpkin from the middle of the table. Just like Alice, as quick as lightning, he cuts open the top of his pumpkin. Bella sighs in frustration. She’ll be the last one making her Jack-O lantern. Why did she think this would be fun with a bunch of vampires with super speed?

Bella looks over at Edward and noticed that even though the top of his pumpkin was cut open, he hasn’t begun to gut it. Instead Edward was been looking at Bella expectantly. She looks over and sees that Carlisle, Esme and Rosalie are also staring her.

Looking at them in confusion Bella reaches her hand into her pumpkin and watches as everyone at the table (minus Alice, Jasper and Emmet who were already started/done their pumpkins) began to gut their pumpkins at a slow comfortable pace. Bella’s pace.

Bella feels a smile tug at her lips as she watches the vampires slow

their pace just for her.

After twenty minutes (yes, Bella knows she’s slow) she finished gutting her pumpkin and watched as everyone else scooped up the last guy in their pumpkin.

Edward, Esme, Carlisle and Rosalie grab a knife and begin digging it into their pumpkin. Bella stares longingly at the single knife left unused on the other side of the table. All she wanted was to carve a design into her pumpkin.

Bella hears quiet giggles from across the table and sees Esme pointing at her and Carlisle’s pumpkins as he smiles fondly, nodding his head along with her words.

“Look.” Edward says quietly. Bella turns her head toward him and looks over at his pumpkin. She smiles at him, trying her hardest to hide the sadness in her eyes. “It looks good.” She says as he points at his pumpkin. Edward’s smile drops as a sudden look of guilt crosses over his face.

After a moment of silence he passes his knife over to Bella. “Here. Take it.” He pushes as Bella hesitantly takes the knife from his hand.

“I thought I wasn’t allowed to use knives because “it’s too dangerous”. Bella says in a mocking tone.

Edward moves to walk behind her.

“Well, I change my mind now.” He responds.

Suddenly his arms reach around her and he grabs her wrist. “I’ll let you cut the pumpkin but I’m going to help you so you don’t get injured.” He says to her.

Bella feels heat flow through her cheeks. She can feel Edward’s coldness on her back through her shirt and everywhere on her arms where his skin touched. Even though his skin was cold, his touch burned against hers.

Carefully Bella stabbed the knife through the pumpkin and felt Edward’s hand steady hers so the knife didn’t wobble. Slowly he helped move the knife where Bella wanted it.

After around 12 minutes the pumpkin was carved. The two of them walked backwards and admired their (Bella’s) work.

Bella had decided to carve a werewolf into her pumpkin, much to Edward’s annoyance. Even as he tried to stare at the werewolf in disgust, he couldn’t help but feel fondness towards the carving, because it had been Bella that had carved it. (With his help)

Edward looked over at Bella’s happy face and excited eyes and knew that Charlie would kill him if he ever found out he let Bella use a knife, but Edward feels full heartedly that seeing Bella this happy makes it worth it.

[dyns33]

The Surgeon

Not proud of this one but I wanted to do one last Nigel Colbie x female reader. 

Maybe he's a surgeon ?

The sentence had awakened Y/N in the middle of the night.

One of her colleagues had said this several hours ago, when the entire police station brigade had gathered to talk about the new murder attributed to the serial killer whom journalists had dubbed "The Fanatic" and who eluded the police for more than ten years.

Reports had long since established that the individual was definitely a white male, between thirty and forty, educated, socially well off, smart, and well versed in human anatomy.

There had been mortgages concerning an autodidact, a medical student or a butcher, in any case someone who had never managed to obtain the career he had always dreamed of.

But the track had quickly seemed absurd, because the psychologists who had been interested in the killer had all decreed that there was neither anger nor revenge in his crimes. They couldn't really determine what drove him to kill, there was obviously a ritual they didn't understand, and probably an impulse, but it wasn't related to frustration.

As they started over from scratch, a young policeman innocently asked why it couldn't be a surgeon. Even though it was a respectable, time-consuming job that involved a series of tests to make sure the doctor was fit for the job, if the serial killer they were looking for was really smart, he could look perfectly normal, live a trouble-free life, and find time to kill.

So maybe he was a surgeon.

The phrase echoed in Y/N's mind as she opened her eyes, before looking up at Nigel, still peacefully asleep beneath her.

Nigel Colbie, her husband, a thirty-five-year-old white man, surgeon, the best in his school, coming from a wealthy family, his parents having tragically died in a boating accident and their bodies never having been found. Her husband, calm, charming, normal, except perhaps his passion for the history of the Templars and the religious rites of ancient civilizations.

They had met when Y/N had just gotten her police constable badge and Nigel was still a surgical intern. A totally unexpected encounter, on a bus, because Nigel's car was broken and Y/N didn't feel like walking to work when it was raining.

Sitting side by side, she had liked that he was reading a collection of poetry and he had found the music she was listening quite pleasant. They had talked the whole way, very unhappy when it was time to part ways.

It was Nigel who had asked her for her number. It was also Nigel who had called her first to ask if she wanted to have dinner with him. Two years later, it was he who proposed to her.

Everything had always gone perfectly between them. Normal, since Nigel was perfect. The best at his job, the best husband, the best lover. Despite all the work he had, he found time to cook for her, he was there to massage her feet asking her how her day had gone and he told her all the time that he was proud of his inspector-wife.

The only thing that might have seemed strange was the few details he gave about his past. About his parents' accident, which he spoke about without the slightest sign of sadness. There had been suspicious deaths at his school, but that didn't seem to bother him. The fact that his best friend was accused of these murders, before disappearing.

     "I don't know what to tell you." Nigel replied when she asked him about it. "What happened to my parents is tragic but there is nothing I can do about it. I did not know the two students who died, and regarding Jack, even though I considered him a brother, I cannot condone what he did, so I'd rather forget about him."

     "Jack ? I read in the report that his name was Alex."

     "That was his nickname. My dear Jack, totally mad and clueless. But let's stop talking about him. You didn't tell me if you caught any bad guys today."

     "There was another murder. The Fanatic, obviously. The victim suffered a lot... Yet it could not be seen at all on his face, he looked peaceful. The killer placed the body as a work of art, it was as beautiful as it was disturbing. Of course, no fingerprint, no witness, nothing. We will never catch him."

     "Don't say that." purred her husband, kissing her. "You're the best. If anyone can catch him, it's you. Even though you sometimes seem to admire him a lot. Maybe you can't catch him because you don't really want to."

Trembling, moving slowly so as not to wake him, Y/N slipped out of bed into the kitchen, where she drank some water before splashing water on her face to try to calm herself down.

It might have been nothing. A coincidence. Her tired and wary mind. But if his parents had not had an accident. If Alex Forbes hadn't killed those two students and run away. If in addition to finding time for her, Nigel had time to walk around, meet people he didn't know, and whom he quietly killed before returning home or going to work.

He asked a lot of questions about the Fanatic case, especially since Y/N had been put on the investigation, so he knew absolutely everything the police knew. Meaning that they didn't know anything.

Besides this curiosity, Nigel seemed happy when Y/N complimented the killer. They weren't exactly compliments, but she admitted that he was gifted, very intelligent, and that there was something artistic about these murders. If it hadn't been for the murders, she might have considered him an artist.

And now she was in her kitchen, at two in the morning, wondering if she had married a serial killer. No, it was madness, a nightmare, a ridiculous idea. But then why was she staring at Nigel's phone so insistently ? Why did she text one of her co-workers asking him to check her husband's schedule and whereabouts ?

There was nothing to check. She wouldn't find anything, because there was nothing to find, because Nigel was innocent.

However, since he was innocent, there was no reason for her to be afraid to look.

     "My love ?" a voice asked behind her, startling her slightly.

     "I woke you up ? Excuse me."

     "No, but I sensed that you weren't with me anymore. Someone called ?  A case ?"

     "Just a nightmare."

     "My poor darling." Nigel sighed as he took her in his arms, kissing her forehead. "Come back to bed, you must be exhausted."

Y/N followed him, lay down against him again, her ear against his heart and she didn't sleep until the next day.

It was impossible to explain to her colleagues why she wanted information about her husband. When they asked her if she thought he was cheating on her, she replied that it was something like that. If she said she thought he was the Fanatic, either they'd think she'd lost her mind, or they'd go and arrest Nigel, when there was still a good chance he hadn't done anything. 

It was better if she checked on her own first.

For several weeks she studied the times he had been in the hospital, with witnesses, with her, and the times when it was impossible to know what he had done.

And she had the unpleasant surprise to discover that each time there was a slight gap in his schedule, it left him enough time to kill one of the victims.

But that wasn't really proof. It could only be a coincidence. Because for the rest, there was nothing. No connection between him and the victims. No clues to the crime scene, the bodies, or their home.

Y/N wanted to believe that she was totally wrong. Because she loved Nigel, her Nigel, the best husband in the world who made her terribly happy. But her instinct was telling her to keep looking.

So she continued to track his actions, tapping his phone and being suspicious of everything.

Until the evening when he woke her up with a tender kiss, apologizing because there had been a road accident and he had to go to the hospital quickly.

After a quick check, no accident to report. No surgery scheduled for Doctor Colbie that night. Y/N therefore decided to follow him, tracking his car, in which she had placed a beacon, in case he turned off his phone.

She found him in a small cabin in the middle of the woods.

Slowly, she entered, discovering her husband who was cutting a man, while talking alone. Or rather talking to a skull.

     "See, Jack ? It's really not complicated. You could have done it very easily if you had made an effort, but I was wrong about you. You were not the right one. I think I found my Malaclea, but she's not ready yet. I won't make the same mistakes as with you, I'm not going to rush. She understands my art, I see the admiration in her eyes, something that wasn't in yours, or that you were ashamed of. She just has to understand that it's not bad, and then nothing can stop us."

     "Hands behind your head."

     "... My love ?" he whispered without looking back.

     "Nigel, put your hands behind your head." Y/N sighed, pointing her gun at him. "Please."

He first put down his scalpel before obeying her and turning to her. Nigel didn't seem angry. On the contrary, he was smiling, as if he were really proud of her.

     "I knew you would find me. You don't know how long I've been waiting for this moment."

     "You wanted me to arrest you ? It might help you in front of the judge. Besides the fact that you're talking to a skull."

     "Jack hears me, even though he can't answer. We're linked in death. I was hoping we'd be linked in life too, but he disappointed me, he wasn't like I imagined. It saddened me so much that I wanted to die, but he didn't even have the courage to shoot me, so I took care of him, before resuming my journey, alone. I had always been alone and after him I thought I'd never find anyone else. Then I met you, my love. And I knew it would be you."

     "Turn around so I can handcuff you."

     "Think of how much we can accomplish together." he continued while still obeying her, letting her tie his hands without resisting. "It would be magnificent and no one could ever suspect us."

     "Please shut up."

     "I know you won't disappoint me, not like him. My heart, my sweet, sweet heart. In the end, I was only killing for you. To see your bright expression when you told me about the case. Do you remember when you asked me about the Templars, because you were wondering if one of the rites had something to do with them ? I thought you had guessed, that I was going to be able to tell you everything. But no, you had seen the design, not the designer. Not yet. But we're finally there !"

He looked so happy, so calm, like the whole situation was normal, that he hadn't just killed someone, that he wasn't talking with a skull, and that Y/N wasn't sobbing, realizing that her beloved husband was mad.

A cry a little louder than the others seemed to wake him up. Nigel was suddenly sad, asking her why she was crying, approaching as if he didn't see the gun, to kiss her like he did whenever his wife was sad.

Y/N let him, too confused to react, and remembering all the good times they had spent together. A hand on her cheek, and another on the hand that held her weapon brings her back to realization.

     "Hush." Nigel muttered, taking the gun, hugging her. "It's okay, love. I know you're a bit lost. It's normal. But I'm going to help you. Come, you'll see, it's simple and wonderful. Jack never got it."

Too scared to refuse, Y/N watched him put the gun in his back pocket, before retrieving the scalpel, which he placed in her hand, before positioning it in front of the corpse. Slowly but firmly, he guided her to open the chest.

Y/N didn't want to look, and at the same time she was fascinated, as Nigel placed his hands in the opening, rummaging inside before pulling out the heart.

     "Normally I do this well, taking the time. But I'm too excited tonight. Look, Y/N, my maraclea. Here is a heart for you, as an offering. A heart that we took together, symbol of our eternal love .Oh, you don't know how happy I am right now !"

He kissed her again, still holding the heart. Y/N let him, while twirling the scalpel between her fingers, considering the options available to her. Kill him and hide his body to avoid scandal. Hurt him and take him to the police station. Follow him in his delirium and continue to live with the man she loved, even if he was sick and he was going to want them to kill together.

A glance at the skull reminded her of the existence of Jack, Axel Forbes, whom Nigel had loved, and who had disappointed him, and whose remained were now on this table. If she didn't make the right decision, she might join him.

So Nigel continued to kiss her, whispering that he loved her, and Y/N continued to play with the scalpel, praying that the last option was that this was all just a bad dream, and that her husband was just an innocent surgeon who was sleeping peacefully next to her and who would laugh when she told him about this nightmare.

[tinytinyblogs]

In The Middle Of Chaos

You both realize you don't need anyone else.

A narrative drawn from inspiration found on Pinterest.

(fluff, part two of this Minho soft hours)

1,4k words

Stray kids masterlist here

Your insights and reactions make these posts come alive. Love reblogs, comments, and all the good vibes welcome ✨

In the middle of chaos, there he was. For a whole month after Minho confessed his feelings to you and things started unfolding, the arranged marriage that you expected to be chaotic doesn't seem as bad as you thought. From the day after the confession until now, Minho has been becoming gentler, especially towards you. As the two of you navigate the situation and grow accustomed to each other's company, you might not even notice how consistently Minho is there for you, no matter what. During those moments when work stress starts to get to you, Minho is there, gently holding your hand and silently placing your favorite drink on the table beside you. He remains the same Minho you know, but there's a noticeable change as he begins to open up about himself, doing things he seems to have always wanted to do.

In the midst of a presentation at a meeting, after you've finished, there he is, sitting in the back with a smile on his face. While others around you are clapping and showing appreciation for your excellent presentation, Minho expresses his admiration for you in his own unique way. Caught in his gaze, he gives you a small smile without saying a word, and you can sense his pride and support for you. Amidst the applause and praises from others, there's something you might not realize – in the middle of all that noise, Minho's smile holds a special meaning. It goes beyond what anyone else is expressing. You may not be aware, but his small gestures of care carry a significant weight, often meaning more to you than you might have ever imagined. Minho is still his usual self, but things are less confusing now, possibly because he's been honest about his feelings for you, and you're getting to know him better.

You've noticed that he can be a bit stern and boss-like with others, preferring efficiency in his work. Sometimes, when things don't go the way he wants, he might get a bit upset. However, what stands out is that even in the midst of his frustration, the moment you enter his office and catch his eye, his tough exterior seems to disappear. His gaze softens, and a small smile appears on his face. After sending everyone out of the room, leaving just the two of you, Minho takes a step closer and gently embraces you. He seeks comfort in the warmth of your hug, using it as a way to momentarily forget the things that trouble him. He's convinced that it's the effect of love because everything about you feels just right. As you place your hand on his back and pat him, providing silent support, he starts to feel more at ease.

Your presence alone has a powerful effect on him, making him believe that all he truly needs in his life is you. You can observe him making a genuine effort, even though being soft isn't really his usual style. When he notices that you're being too hard on yourself and filled with doubt, he quietly positions himself next to you without saying anything at first. Then, in his deep voice, he shares, "You are the most beautiful person I've seen in my whole life. In my eyes, you are perfect." His gaze meets yours, and he continues, "If you're tired, take a break. Don't push yourself—I'll be here for you." As he pulls you closer, you find comfort in hiding your face against his chest. He transforms the chaos in your life into something better, making you feel even happier. Even though he's making a conscious effort not to reveal his softer side too much, you can still see glimpses of how tender and gentle he truly is.

And in the middle of his chaos, there was you. He never envisioned himself falling deeply in love with someone, to be completely honest. But since you entered his life, everything seems to have taken on a different hue. After you agreed to marry him, making you his fiancée, he found it increasingly challenging to conceal his feelings for you. His parents are aware, he himself is aware, and those around him can clearly see the depth of his love for you. Every time your eyes lock and you reciprocate with a sweet smile, he can't help but adore the way you gaze at him. When everyone around him has high expectations and anticipates him to be flawless, you enter his office and bring him a cup of hot chocolate, which has become his new favorite. "Take a rest, Minho," you say gently as you push the pile of papers away from him. "You can't push yourself too hard; everyone has limits. Leave the rest for tomorrow; you need to take care of yourself too."

Your presence serves as a reminder that he is important, and among all the people, you give him a concerned look when he forgets to care for himself, making him feel genuinely loved. When self-doubt starts creeping in, especially during moments when he must appear flawless in front of everyone, delivering speeches from the podium, you are there. Even in the midst of a crowded room, your eyes meet his, a comforting smile lingering on your face. As he stands before the audience, feeling the pressure to be perfect, your presence becomes a silent reassurance. Your mouth whispers, 'You can do it,' a supportive mantra only he can hear. Amidst the external facade of confidence, you're there, truly present for him. Throughout the rest of the speech, his gaze remains fixed on you, and he delivers his words with a genuine smile. When he concludes, and the applause fills the room, his attention is singularly focused on you. From a distance, you whisper, 'You did it well, Minho,' and in that moment, that affirmation means more to him than the collective applause of the crowd.

He swears that he couldn't care less about anyone else. As he steps down from the podium, he's almost dismissive of the nicely dressed crowd and the people showering him with admiration. None of that matters to him; his eyes are fixed solely on you. With a wide grin, he walks towards you, proudly declaring, "I did it." As he reaches you, your sweet smile warms his heart. Holding you close, he introduces you to everyone as his soon-to-be life partner. He solemnly believes that he wouldn't have achieved what he has now if it weren't for you. Your presence seems to have steered his life in a better direction. Without you, he thinks his life would be a mess, and he has no desire for anything else – all he needs is you. Until recently, he hadn't fully grasped the impact you had on his life. Now, when he can't find you around, he panics and frantically searches everywhere, a stark contrast to his usually composed self. The worry consumes him. Then, he recalls it's the day you visit your father's grave.

Despite the pouring rain, he runs towards you without hesitation. Amidst your sorrow, you spot him approaching, breathless, and he pulls you into a hug. Despite the rain, his warmth and presence make you feel not alone. Once he embraces you, he realizes without a doubt that choosing to marry you and being with you is the best decision he has ever made for himself. In that very moment, as he sees you and feels the tightness of your hug, he realizes that his deepest desire is simply to protect you and bring you happiness. Finally, after all this time, he begins to have a dream for himself, breaking away from the path his parents had laid out for him. When the day finally arrives, and he catches sight of you adorned in white, the overwhelming emotions well up within him. As he watches you walk towards him, a strong desire to shed tears grips him.

Taking your hand, he stands in a place saturated with happiness and brimming with hope, both of you sharing this special moment. Your dear and sweet smile beside him on this joyous day is something he never could have envisioned. "I, Lee Minho, commit myself to you, y/n, as my life partner to learn and grow with, to explore and adventure with, to respect you in everything as an equal partner, in the foreknowledge of joy and pain, strength and weariness, direction and doubt, for all the risings and settings of the sun. We tie these knots to symbolize our connection to one another. They represent our trust in each other and our combined strength together." On that special day, he makes a vow. Despite the ups and downs in your journey together, from the challenging beginnings to the deepening of your feelings as you both grew up, he promises that you are now his forever.

💬The vow is from this website, and I assure you I never sought out things like this seriously. My mom was genuinely surprised when she caught me looking into it.

©Tinytinyblogs

[ejzah]

I was wondering if you ever wrote an one shot about kensi and deeks' first time in Recovery?? I still haven't find the perfect fic about that night and I came across one of your drabbles about what happened that night and now I kind of NEED to read the whole thing, or I might literally go crazy

A/N: Thanks so much! I’m glad you’re enjoying the stories. There’s a LOT there, so I honestly forget some of them. I also crosspost all my stories (aside from dialogue drabbles) to my ff account with a 2-3 month delay of you’re looking for a slightly more organized approach to anything older.

***

If We Should Only Have this Night

They giggle as they walk through the door. From nerves, anticipation, the realization that they’re finally taking this step after nearly five years. As soon as they’re through, Kensi pushes Deeks against the closed door, grasping the back of his neck, fingers curling into his hair. When her lips press to his, he sighs.

It’s just like he remembered and dreamed about since the first time Kensi kissed him.

“I’ve been waiting for this so long,” Kensi says, echoing his thoughts. The her lips are on his again, and she makes an encouraging sound when Deeks teases her lips open with his tongue.

He’s kept his hands on her waist up til now, but can’t stop himself from smoothing up her back and sides, marveling at the fact that he’s allowed to touch her now. Kensi shivers, her fingers tightening in his hair. It hurts just a tiny bit; not enough for Deeks to care.

She pulls back with a gasp, eyes gleaming in the dark (they’d completely forgotten to turn on any lights). One of her hands trails down his neck, landing high on his chest where his collar parts. Even though it’s a fairly innocent touch, it send a fiery flush through his whole body, and he has to close his eyes against the onslaught of feeling.

It’s not just that he wants Kensi. Because he does, more than anything. It’s so much more than lust though. He loves Kensi Blye beyond all reason.

Kensi’s traveling hands bring him back to reality and he raises an eyebrow at her.

“Now that’s definitely HR reportable,” he quips, thoughts it’s bookended by a breathy laugh when Kensi palms him through his pants.

“Shut up,” she laughs, not able to keep the fondness out of her eyes. Tilting her head, she kisses him lightly, in direct contrast to the desperate, passionate kisses of moments ago. Then she takes his hand and deliberately leads him to his bedroom.

Deeks pauses to toe off his shoes on the way, which is apparently too long for Kensi, who makes an impatient sound. She crawls back onto the bed, stopping when she’s sitting in the middle and tugs at his hand until he follows.

Kensi drags him down with her, and the feeling of their bodies against one another, even fully clothed is exquisite. For just a second, he rests his forehead to hers, and then Kensi tips his chin down for another kiss. She curls her leg over his hip, drawing him even closer.

Groaning into her mouth, he slides his hands up her loose blouse, hands skimming her amazingly soft skin until he reaches the edge of her bra.

“Wait.” Kensi shoves at his chest, not with even half the force she’s capable of, and Deeks shifts so he’s hovering over her instead of pressing her into the bed.

“Did I hurt you?” he whispers, alarmed at the tears suddenly threatening to spill onto her cheeks.

“No—I” she inhales deeply and that seems to settle her somewhat. Shaking her head, she reaches up and brushes her thumb along his bottom lip.

“What’s wrong?”

“You know, if we do this, it changes everything,” she answers, so matter of factly it sends a chill through him.

“So what do you want to do?” he asks. The thought of stopping and pretending nothing happened kills him.

“I don’t want to have to choose,” she responds slightly louder and her frustration with the situation obvious. It gives him hope. They can still have everything, be partner, friends…more.

“Don’t. Then don’t choose. We don’t choose.”

“You know that’s not how that works.” Despite her words, she curls a hand in his shirt, her fingers grazing his chest. “What do you thinks going to happen?” she asks, and he knows she wants him to tell her that it’s all going to be alright.

“I don’t know,” he answers honestly. He thinks they can have everything, make this work, but he truly doesn’t know for sure. “I don’t care.”

Her face crumples. “What are you doing to me, Deeks,” Kensi whispers, the sound almost a sob. Then she presses her hand to the center of his chest, reaching up to kiss him again.

“Falling in love with you,” Deeks murmurs against her lips, and they move against each other in sudden desperation. Kensi cups her hands round his neck, the other reaching for the hem of his shirt. She tugs it off, then her own, mouth going right back to his.

When she needs to breathe, he turns to mapping the length of her neck and jaw. She shudders against him, hands stalling in an attempt to unbutton his jeans.

Despite many detours, they eventually scatter the rest of their clothes across the bed and floor. Deeks spends a minute just taking Kensi in, running his hands down her arms, up her legs, over her stomach.

In the dim light her skin is flushed a dull pink and she shudders when he presses a kiss just below her hip bone. He spends the next several minutes kissing every inch of her body.

Kensi arches into him, her eyes closed, head tossed back as she clings to his shoulders, and trembles beneath him, and Deeks thinks that she’s never looked more beautiful than in this moment. She falls back to the bed with a gasp, her skin damp with sweat.

After several moments of breathing unevenly, Kensi opens her eyes, looking absolutely wrecked. He grins down at her.

“Well?” he asks, like he’s expecting a full review. Kensi smack playfully at his chest, and catches her hand before she makes contact, lifting it to his lips.

“Get up here,” she croaks, pulling him back into her arms. Her legs hook around his hips to hold him in place as she shifts against him.

He wants this to last forever. One night just isn’t enough.

***

A/N: Hope this is what you were thinking of. Ended up watching that deleted scene many a time, poor me.

Thanks for the prompt!