#of that stuff anymore. who cares at this point?’ that would be Noticeable and would make people look deeper

[karasublog]

Michael Kaiser and the country Germany🇩🇪

This is just a little analysis on my part, as I'm very interested in Michael Kaiser's story and also find it funny how Kaneshiro portrays Germany 📖🖋.

I'm German🇩🇪 and I know the rules, school, conditions of unemployment, blah blah blah...

Michael Kaiser's story, which starts in Berlin, is very new to me because, to be honest, it's very, very rare for something like this to happen in Germany (or rather, I've never experienced it or heard about it🙏🏻).

I'll mention a few essential points that are important to understand the ACTUAL AND MORE REALISTIC situation of people like Michael Kaiser and his father (all related to Germany and the help that is available here):

Citizen's income and social assistance: In Germany, all people who don't earn much or are even unemployed receive citizen's allowance, a type of financial assistance for people like Michael and his father in this case (if he requests it, of course!) 💶📄

School and its teachers: Here in Germany🇩🇪, school attendance is compulsory🏫. I believe, Michael did go to school, so it's kind of strange, that no teacher ever talked to him about the bruises he got from his father (like on his cheek, eye, etc.). Teachers here pay attention to that kind of thing and they probably know from the start that he's poor, so they probably pay even more attention to his condition! 🧑‍🏫💬 -> next (if the teachers would notice and help), the youth welfare office would visit and investigate Michael's home environment and determine that it wasn't safe enough. Then he would no longer have to live there 🫂🏚✅️.

Black market in Berlin:

I've never heard of it and I don't think that exists in Berlin (?). At least not nowadays (after WW2 it had existed, but not anymore, bc we're not in a financial crisis nowadays and don't need a black market anymore lmfao??)💰📿

Stealing food from the supermarket: As a child, Michael was forced by his father to steal food/drinks from the supermarket🥛🛒:

Some points that are important❗️ and questionable❓️ here:

-> Apparently stealing became a habit here and happened often, as Michael's father made him do it every day/week. So why didn't anyone notice? A child who takes things from the supermarket will quickly attract attention, especially if it happens regularly 👀👮

-> When you leave the store, it beeps and triggers an alarm if you steal something. With groceries, of course, it's often too inconvenient and there may not be an alarm, but the likelihood of Michael going undetected is relatively low 🚨🔊

And finally, Alexis Ness' role in Michael Kaiser's life:

Like, if Ness really cares about him that much, why doesn't he get him professional help💀?? It's clear, he's suffered a lot and needs therapy lmfao, but he's simply allowed to continue playing soccer without anyone worrying about him?? Like, does Ness not realize Michael's literally punishing himself for failing or something😦... LIKE, GET HIM HELP ALREADY... WE HAVE PEOPLE HERE IN GERMANY WHO CAN LMFAO...

Okay, DONE. I know, many people (including me) like Michael's story and character🇩🇪⚽️. I wrote this analysis though, because I think negatively about the way Kaneshiro portrays Germany, like, it's not a country, where poor people or children in abusive households are forgotten or not provided with social assistance or financial help and stuff! Completely the opposite, actually. A lot of money is spent on the unemployed, poor people in general and also on migrants, so they are well looked after!! 💶✅️

I like Michael's character and his story, especially, because he made it this far with that cruel childhood and backstory, but it's just a bit over the top, I think, since it's pretty unrealistic...

I know, I'm a bit annoying, because obviously, pointing out flaws and unrealistic points is indeed annoying, especially with a character like Kaiser... But fact is, the Germany that's portrayed here, is definitely not the Germany I live in lmfao. If other Germans understand, what I mean, comment or text me in general lol💯.

ANYWAYS. I LOVE BLUE LOCK SM ⚽️🏆.

[brittlebutch]

i will say i think there’s a Minor exception for more ephemeral emotions where sonic Is willing to be open about them. that’s kind of two sided, bc on one hand it’s okay to be open about those Because they’re ephemeral and no one expects you to hold onto something like irritation over someone going slow, so if you forget about it people don’t consider it a big deal. i also think it works to make sonic Look like an expressive person so people don’t stop to wonder what he’s feeling on a deeper level, so it’s Defensive in that way as well

[itadore-you]

every day I think abt this one fic I used to follow like the gospel from 2020 WRITERMILK WHO WROTE FUCKTOY ON WATTPAD U MADE ME WHO I AM U GOT ME INTO FANFICTION I LOVE YOU

[writerfromthestars]

DP X DC PROMPT: DANNY'S AN ASSASSIN?!

So Danny gets adopted by the Waynes somehow.

Now, he's a teenage vigilante, he knows all the signs. And he can clearly tell that Damian and Tim are sneaking out under the cover of night to fight crime as Robin and Red Robin.

While ordinarily this would lead to the connection between the Waynes being Batman, Nightwing, Red Hood, and various other assorted vigilantes, that's not what we're here for, so instead, what happens is that Danny thinks that his two absolutely normal little brothers are sneaking out, meeting strange people dressed in spandex and Kevlar on rooftops, and punching criminals.

He has no issue with this.

The only issue he has is that Tim and Damian are inexperienced, I mean, Damian's twelve or something like that, he can't have been Robin for long. He's not particularly willing to get back into heroism himself, though, so this leads to him casually dropping random tidbits of information that only an ex-vigilante/hero/assassin/other part of the caped community, would know into regular conversation.

Like, if Tim's using bandages on his hand, Danny will suddenly drop the fact that that particular brand is very absorbent and works really well to take care of large, bloody wounds, like bullet holes in important places.

If Damian's reading a book about different knives, and their creation processes (because be real, he totally would) Danny will read over his shoulder a bit and then just point out a knife that would particularly good for stabbing someone in the stomach, or slitting someone's throat. (he knows this because of a. his rogues trying to kill him and b. Dan likes sharp things.)

The three of them are watching some superhero movie or something, and Danny goes on a twelve-minute rant about how the fight scenes would never work that way.

Tim and Damian come to the conclusion that their new brother has been trained by the League of Assassins or something.

Here's the issue. Danny hasn't.

So Damian starts dropping little hints that he knows that Danny was part of the League, for example a reference to a technique that only a League member would know. Danny, who has been trained in hand-to-hand by Dan, who was trained by dead League assassins in the alternate timeline, knows the moves.

Danny is just happy that his baby brothers are taking his advice, and opening up to him too. Damian is even starting to talk about fighting with him, and he thinks that they might actually tell him about their nighttime activities soon.

Finally, the two confront him on it. And by that, I mean that like the emotionally constipated bats they are, they utterly fail in their interrogation because they can't just come out and say it out in the open.

Tim: so Danny, I noticed how you know a lot about fighting. and first aid, and stuff.

Damian: I have noticed this as well. Might I inquire as to where you gained these skills?

Danny just thinks that they have figured out his past as a vigilante and that they are worried about him being hurt.

Danny: Don't worry about it. I don't do that type of thing anymore.

Now that's a deflection if Tim's ever heard it.

Damian, digging for more information: I wish to know. Maybe I can learn from whoever it was that taught you?

Danny grimaces slightly before answering.

Danny: Trust me, kiddo, you don't wanna learn from the people who taught me this stuff. They squash you like a bug.

Tim and Damian take this as confirmation that Danny was involve in the League. Danny just means that pitting his rogue gallery, which consists of exclusively ghosts, against living boys would be unfair.

[idiotmf]

omg please write a piece about reader getting fucked by a ghost i neeeeed it

Hey, anon! Fear not, I shall deliver. I wasn't sure whether you wanted afab or amab, so I went with the usual afab. I'm happy to rewrite it into amab, if anyone wants it!（＾ω＾）

Edit: Here is the amab version!

Feel free to send me asks and requests or little imagines, I'm always happy to expand upon it, it gets the creative juices flowing a little. ^-^

NSFW, Minors DNI, I can see you.

TW: dub-con

Anyway, enough talk. Here's Reader getting not-so-respectfully railed by a ghost:

When your grandma left you a house after she passed, you assumed your troubles would finally be over, and for a while, they were. When you moved in, things were amazing. You didn't have to worry about rent anymore, and the utilities were surprisingly cheap. It's like you hit the jackpot, finally able to live with a few less worries.

Obviously, when you weren't working or hanging out with the odd friend that came over, you spent your time at home, keeping yourself occupied, mostly by either watching something, playing something, or masturbating out of boredom.

Things continued like that for a while, until you found a rather cryptic note from your late grandma that explained in unnecessary detail how there was a ghost living in the house. She strictly referred to the ghost as "him" and mentioned he was fairly friendly, unless provoked, and even then he would only play pranks on you.

Being the rational person that you are, you chalked it up to grandma being senile and that she was just keeping herself entertained since she lived in the house all alone. It would have been fine if that's where it stopped.

One night, your old friend came over, and you did your usual routine of watching something, and then halfway through, you ended up fucking. That's where it really all began.

The next morning, things were on the ground, not like someone had ransacked the place, but it was noticeable enough, though of course you thought it must've been just your old friend who had knocked some stuff over while leaving in a hurry. When you went to bend over to pick some things up, you could feel something grabbing your ass, and without hesitation, you turned around, only to be faced with nothing. Maybe you were going crazy, you thought; it wasn't an awfully strong grip, so maybe it was something your body did.

This excuse became increasingly less effective as time went on. You felt hands everywhere and at the worst times. Caressing your arms and legs, tracing your stomach and back. Eventually it got to the point where you could feel a hand slipping into your pants, playing with your clit. Of course, you were scared at first. Something was clearly there, and it reminded you of the letter your grandma left you.

You began shouting at the ghost. Telling it to stop fucking around and leave you alone. However, the ghost didn't really care; you broke his one rule that he had agreed on with your grandma, and even if you didn't know, he was going to punish you. How dare you bring another man into his house and have the audacity to fuck him?

His touching escalated the more you allowed him. Eventually you noticed a mouth and a wet tongue licking your neck, tracing down to your breasts. It seemed strange, considering you were usually clothed when this happened, yet it felt like it was touching your skin directly. The licking felt nothing like what your old friend would do, although in truth the sex with him wasn't all that good and really just a way to get fucked every once in a while.

Before you knew it, multiple hands were all over you, joined by at least three tongues licking you. This made no sense; you wondered if there were multiple ghosts. It became increasingly difficult to even find the logic in this when you were constantly being groped and licked. One tongue had found its permanent place on your sensitive nub, flicking and sucking it with every move you made; one was carelessly sucking on one of your nipples, alternating with one hand that usually played with the other one. The third mouth seemed to like making out with you, its tongue constantly shoved in your mouth, wrestling yours.

Despite feeling all these ministrations as if they were real, when you looked at your reflection, there was nothing there. Your mouth was gaping, but nothing was in it; your panties were soaked beyond belief most of the time, yet nothing seemed to be there. But truly, the worst part about it all was that it wouldn't let you finish. Whenever you were just about to cum, the mouth disappeared before continuing its torture. It took about two days before you couldn't take it anymore, pleading with the ghost to let you cum. It didn't listen, though it did use more hands to restrict you when you went to touch yourself before shoving something inside of you.

It wasn't much of a sensation, and you felt it curl, so you naturally assumed it was the finger of another hand. “Please,” you began whimpering every other minute, your tone getting more needy with every ruined orgasm that he put you through as minutes began to feel like hours.

“I'll do anything,” you finally managed to choke out through tears as he played with your sodden pussy for what you could only register as an eternity again, bent over the kitchen counter, legs held apart, wrists gripped tightly by the ghost. For a moment, there was nothing but stillness; all the mouths stopped what they were doing, and most of the hands disappeared too, except the ones keeping you in place.

“Anything?” A shiver ran down your spine as you heard the noise that you assumed to be the ghost's voice. It sounded distant and more like the wind howling than a human voice, yet you knew immediately who it was. You nodded, the tears running down your face falling onto the kitchen counter, your twitching cunt trying to feel any sort of stimulation now that the mouths and hands were gone.

“Yes, anything.” The words came out before you could even attempt to stop them, accompanied by a howling sound, which made you wonder whether it was meant to be a laugh or not.

Another few moments passed before a loud noise forced itself out of your mouth at the sensation of something stretching you open. It was long and thick, covered in strange bumps, providing nothing but the most torturous pleasure as it thrust into your hungry cunt at a punishing pace.

Despite your mind still questioning whether this was okay and logical, your body was writhing against the kitchen counter, hands still held still by him, your legs forced apart as he fucked you from behind. No matter how much you attempted to stop it from happening, desperate, high-pitched mewling sounds escaped your lips at a rapid rate as you felt another orgasm approach, hoping this would be the one to finally let you cum after two days of torture.

“What a willing little slut,” the ghost taunted with his howling voice, making him sound distant yet all around you at once. The insults made you mewl louder; something about being used like this by a ghost made your pussy clench harder.

In a small moment of defiance, you glanced back at what might be behind you, but just as expected, there was nothing. Despite your pussy being stretched to an almost painful level, gaping around air, no figure was there to account for it.

Just as your orgasm threatened to spill over, something was shoved into your mouth, making your jaw hurt, before it found its way down your throat, drowning out your mewls and desperate groans.

“Be quiet, whore. I'm not done with you yet.” With those words, your eyes fluttered closed as you let this torture continue for another minute or two, pussy and throat both stuffed full with invisible cocks, bigger than any human's you've ever had. The thought alone was enough to trigger your orgasm, finally sending you over that sweet edge with a loud groan that only came out as a hum. Your body went limp from the impact, and you saw stars in front of your eyes, the ghost holding you up by your wrists as if it were nothing.

Without a word or even a moment to spare, he kept slamming into you, the bumps rubbing against your insides, making you feel like you were stuck in a never-ending orgasm for a moment before it did finally subside, though you could feel the cocks twitch, their movements becoming more erratic and aggressive. You tried to say something, but your throat was simply too stuffed to make any worthwhile noise.

Suddenly, you felt a hot sensation in both of your holes, almost making you gag and cry in pain, as the sheer amount of ectoplasmic seed forced its way into your womb and down your throat, spilling back into your mouth, even running down your chin. Before you could fully register what happened, you were dropped, the ghost probably leaving you to deal with the aftermath. As you lay there, the sheer amount of cum almost formed a small puddle on the ground, your fucked-out pussy leaking more as you desperately tried to swallow the remnants in your mouth.

[multific]

A Bump in the Road

Mattheo Riddle x Reader

Summary: You two were perfect for each other, but there are bound to be bumps in every road.

Everyone in Hogwarts was aware of the power couple that was you and Mattheo.

You had been inseparable since you first met in their first class, your chemistry was undeniable from the start.

Your relationship was the envy of all your friends, as you seemed to be the perfect match in every way.

However, as time went on, jealousy began to rear its ugly head in your relationship.

You started to notice that Mattheo was spending more and more time with a fellow student, Patsy.

They would work on projects together, go out for coffee, and even get out of the school without inviting you along.

At first, you tried to brush off these feelings of jealousy, telling yourself that Mattheo was just being a good friend to Patsy.

But as the weeks went by, your suspicions grew stronger.

You couldn't shake the feeling that there was something more than just friendship between the two.

And then, you decided to confront Mattheo about your suspicions.

You poured your heart out to him, telling him how you felt neglected and insecure in this relationship.

"It's like you don't even care about me anymore." you said and Mattheo was taken aback by your honesty, but reassured you that his friendship with Patsy was purely platonic.

He promised to make more time for you and to include you in everything.

"It's not that I don't want you to only be with me Matty, but-"

"I get it. I really do. You don't have to explain." he smiled and you kissed him.

However, despite his reassurances, you couldn't shake the feeling of jealousy that had taken hold of your heart.

He said he got it, but he changed nothing. And again, he was away with Patsy.

You let out a long sigh as you sat down to have dinner.

"Trouble in paradise? What did Riddle do this time?" you looked up at Blaise. You rolled your eyes and pointed at Mattheo who was talking with Patsy. "Oh, lover boy found a new toy?"

"Fuck off."

"Only joking. Stupid idiot probably got used to having you around way too much."

"Tell me more. And he had the balls to reassure me that he will stop."

"If it is anything, I don't think he is like that with her. He is an idiot, yes but he does love you."

"I hope you are right Blaise, or else there will be blood."

"I have no doubt about that. But I think two can play his game." he leaned in and you looked at him with a face that said "Continue". "The new guy, Black, has a little crush on you. Maybe... you could play a little?"

"Regulus Black?" Blaise nodded and you had a wicked smile. You turned and watched your boyfriend laugh with Patsy, oh boy if Mattheo wanted to fight, you would bring war to him.

----

Regulus was actually very kind and funny.

You genuinely liked him. But he wasn't Mattheo.

And it looked like your actions piqued his interest to the point where he actually left Patsy and joined you and Regulus when he helped you with your homework.

You were thankful to Blaise for the amazing plan as it has worked beautifully.

Patsy was soon no one but a long forgotten memory.

"Oh? Where's your girlfriend?" you asked Mattheo and he looked confused. "Patsy." you explained and he rolled his eyes.

"Apparently, Gryffendale thought it would be a good idea to have a bet. Patsy was sent to get us to brake up."

"Really? And it took you that long to realize that you played into their hands? We almost did break up." you laughed.

"No, we didn't. But it was rather suspicious for a girl to be interested in the stuff that I like to this degree."

"Should I call the doctor or will you survive?"

"I'm fine, since I have my girl." he pulled you close and you shook your head. "So you can start to avoid Black. I'm not letting you leave."

"Sorry, I do have a study session with him later today, but you can join us." you smirked.

This was the moment where you understood that life is going to throw a lot your way. But since you two were perfect for each other, no matter what will come, you two will be fine.

Taglist: 

@castellandiangelo @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @manduse @jacalineiscomingforyou 

@mandoloriancookie @deliciousfestsalad @lilliumrorum

@asgards-princess-of-mischief @fallout-girl219 @dracaryxzs @snowtargaryen 

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

/YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE, OR TO STEAL ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/

[luvingtsumu]

𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐓 𖥔 ࣪˖ ( MIYA ATSUMU X FEM!READER )

noticing small changes is difficult at first, but when they start becoming so visible it’s hard to not overthink stuff, but miya atsumu definitely wasn’t in love with you, right? even when it was painfully obvious.

★ genre: fluff | content: friends to lovers, fluff, jealousy, actions speaking louder than words.

★ author’s note: now that i have a job i’ve been buying a lot of atsumu merch, i’m gonna end up broke.

O1 . BACKPACK

You and Atsumu always played rock, paper, scissors after school to decide who was carrying the backpacks, usually, you were the loser, and he always made sure to rub it in your face.

He was lazy, he never wanted to carry anyone’s backpacks, especially not yours; so this rock, paper, scissors game worked perfectly for him —since he already knew you always picked scissors first.

“I won again!” he said, sticking his tongue out at you.

“Not fair! Let’s play again.” you crossed your arms over your chest, glaring at him.

“C’mon, we already played 3 times, yer a loser.” he said, throwing his backpack at you.

You catch it with both hands, groaning slightly as you glared at him.

“Oh, come on! My back hurts today.” you complained “I fell on my back today.”

“Ya fell?” he laughed.

“Fucking Kino threw the ball at me way too hard! That was a hate crime.” he laughed again so you hit him on the shoulder “Shut up!”

“Sorry, sorry.” he smiled “Does it hurt or what?”

“A little bit.”

“Are ya that weak? Geez, no wonder why yer always tired in p.e. class.” he snickered.

“You know I hate you?” you rolled your eyes, placing his backpack on your shoulder.

“I figured.” he stole his and your backpack from your hands, placing them over his shoulders.

You looked at him with a confused look before smirking, he scoffed and looked away.

“‘m only gonna take ‘em today, cause yer hurt, alright?”

That was the first time that Atsumu, on his own willing, carried your backpack for you.

Then there was a second time.

Then a third one.

And suddenly you realize that now you barely carried your backpack after school. At first you were happy about that, and teased him about being your servant, but then you started to feel a bit bad cause he was always carrying your stuff; and even when you insisted on helping, he would brush you off.

“Yer too week, I don’t want yer back to get hurt.”

“I already have it on me.”

“Don’t complain, ‘m helpin’ ya.”

You thought it was weird that he was acting so nice, but you figured maybe he changed his ways and wanted to be nicer, besides, it was great not having to carry your heavy backpack; so you finally let it happen with no complaints.

O2 . FOOD

Atsumu absolutely hated when people ate his food, he didn’t even let his own brother grab a cookie from his lunch.

Either way, you didn’t cared if he didn’t liked it, you always found a way to steal a bit of his food, and he was always loud when you did it, calling you names and pulling your arms so you wouldn’t get to steal another onigiri.

You were used to that, and still, you didn’t even noticed when that changed. It started small and it was easy to not notice a change, but soon enough his brother pointed out how Atsumu didn’t got mad at you anymore when you stole his food, he didn’t budged and just gave you a small glance before going back to eating.

You thought about it for a bit and decided to test it, grabbing some of his tuna when he was just about to eat it.

“Hm, this one doesn’t taste that good as the one you brought yesterday.” you said after swallowing the food.

He looked between you and the tuna, then he started eating without budging “Yeah, ‘samu did the one yesterday.”

“That explains it, you’re a terrible cook.” he glared at you, making you chuckle “Respectfully.”

You noticed him rolling his eyes, but you got nothing more than that after stealing his food; so you decided to ask him to see if his reaction would change.

“Can I have some of your chips, ‘tsumu?”

“Open ‘em.” he said, handing you the bag of chips “Just make sure no one else eats ‘em.” and with that, he continued eating.

You gave him a weird look, raising and eyebrow.

You were so used to him yelling at you that it felt strange that he wasn't doing it. For some reason, it made you feel guilty, again. It felt better to steal food from him and have him yelling at you, rather than him handing it to you.

“You know what? I’m not hungry.” you said, handing him the bag of chips “Thanks though.”

That was the last time you attempted to eat from his food, unless he vocally expressed he wanted to share his food from you.

He even looked bothered by the fact you weren’t stealing his food anymore, but your best friend loved his food, so you sure were imagining things.

O3 . TWINS

Even if Atsumu and Osamu fought all the time, they were still brothers, they were still twins. They still told everything to each other —even if they pretended to not listen—, and they still wanted to help each other.

So even if you tried to stop yourself from overthinking, it wasn’t an easy task. You felt like the twins knew something about you that not even you knew. It was weird, of course, but it felt like they were working against you or about you.

They would whisper at each other when you passed by them, and you always saw them sharing looks when you hung out with them. To be honest, you felt left out, it felt like you were missing something.

Normally, you would tell the twins about your current concern, but in this case, they were the current concern, so you decided to rely on Aran.

“Don’t mind them.” he waved his hand in the air “They’re always all weird, same thing happened to me and turns out they just admired me a lot.” he smirked.

You chuckled “I don’t think they admire me, Aran, it’s easier to think they despise me.”

“You’re their best friend, they don’t hate you.” he assured you “They’re better than that.”

Aran’s words were reassuring, and you decided to stop focusing on the topic and let the twins do their own stuff.

Even when Osamu asked you weird and too specific questions about your love life.

Or when he suddenly canceled on plans last minute, making you and Atsumu stay alone.

Or when he exchanged weird looks with Atsumu whenever you spoke about boys.

All just coincidence’s.

O4 . JEALOUSY

“Me ‘nd ‘samu we’re talkin’ the other day…” he took a bite of his burger “‘nd it would be pretty cool to go to the beach this weekend.”

“Don’t talk with your mouth full.” you chuckled, before sighing “The beach?”

He swallowed his food as he nodded “Yeah! The weather has been nice this past days.”

“I can’t this weekend.” you took a sip of your drink, watching his expression grow confused.

“What? Why?”

“I have plans with Kino and Shinji. Although I don’t think Shinji is gonna make it, so just me and Kino.”

Atsumu’s eyebrows visibly raised as he listened to your words. You continued eating, unaware of the way Atsumu’s stomach did a flip.

“Why are ya goin’ with them anyway?” he mumbled as he took a very small bite of his almost finished burger.

You scoffed “What do you mean why? They’re my friends.” you smiled.

“I thought they were just dudes in yer classroom.”

“No.” you chuckled “I’m actually friends with them, even when they’re a pain in the ass. I’m actually closer to Kino.” you said, thinking out loud.

Atsumu’s jaw clenched as he wrapped up what was left of the burger and threw it in the trash can.

“Weekends are for me, tho…” he said without thinking, quickly changing his words “—‘nd for ‘samu too.”

“Oh, come on, for one weekend that I don’t spend time with you? You’ll survive.”

Atsumu grumbled “I guess.”

Atsumu zoned out for a few seconds, deep in thought until he finally turned to see you.

“Isn’t Kino the guy ya went to eat with the other day?”

“Yeah, you remember him?” you smiled.

“Yeah. I actually do.”

Of course he did, Osamu is friends with one of Kino’s close friends, and he told Osamu that Kino had a big, fat crush on you. Of course he did. But you were his girl, his! How dare this other man disterup his precious time with you.

“Enjoy yer time with him, or whatever.” he sighed, rubbing the side of his neck as he tried to ease the feeling inside of him.

“I will.” you chuckled “We can go to the beach other day.”

“Sure.”

He didn’t understand why he was feeling like this, so bitter about you having other friendships besides him, other guys that liked you like he did —or maybe not like he did, cause he definitely liked you more than any ordinary guy ever will.

O5 . TEXTS AND CALLS

Your phone vibrated with a notification, and you knew who it was even before you turned on your screen.

Atsumu, of course it was him.

Normally you couldn’t have a single conversation with him over text, since he was barely on his phone, always studying, training or playing some game with Osamu. He never checked his texts and it was a real challenge to try to get in contact with him during summer break cause he never answered.

You always told him it was like talking to a wall, truly, and he always scoffed and told you he was a busy man with a busy life.

But now all of that had changed, cause suddenly now he had so much time, apparently. Always texting you every time he wanted and could, spaming your phone. You two even did calls when he walked back home or when he went to the convenience store.

You didn’t knew when it changed, but you weren’t complaining. It was like having a puppy begging for attention 24/7. Kinda fun.

[ 9:20 p.m. ] i found a cat on the way back home and it fucking bit me

[ 9:20 p.m. ] i mean, the AUDACITY

[ 9:21 p.m. ] and also, i bought you some of those chips you wanted the other day, the disgusting ones 🥰

[ 9:21 p.m. ] yeah, i know, i’m the best. don’t thank me too much, it was all me

[ 9:21 p.m. ] also, APPARENTLY you don’t put spoons on the microwave, never knew that huh

[ 9:23 p.m. ] are you gonna answer or what

[ 9:23 p.m. ] HELLOOOO??????

[ 9:26 p.m. ] do you hate me or what

[ 9:30 p.m. ] YOU’RE LITERALLY ONLINE

[ 9:30 p.m. ] WHO ARE YOU ANSWERING TO 😐😐

[ 9:31 p.m. ] why won’t you answer meeeee

[ 9:40 p.m. ] what did i do? are you mad at me and that’s why you’re not answering?

[ 9:40 p.m. ] tell me and i’ll apologize

[ 9:40 p.m. ] i’ll get on my knees

[ 9:41 p.m. ] if i get a tattoo of your name on my whole chest will you forgive me and speak to me again?

[ 10:00 p.m. ] i was taking a bath. WHAT

[ 10:00 p.m. ] HEY OMG YOU DON’T HATE ME :3

[ 10:01 p.m ] cringe. and i do hate you

[ 10:01 p.m ] also, did your microwave exploded or what?

[ 10:02 p.m. ] i wasn’t aware of microwave instructions ok, leave me alone

[ 10:04 p.m ] you stupid

You chuckled to yourself as Atsumu started spamming even more texts. It was fun.

Soon enough you got a call, and you know you two were probably gonna fall asleep on the phone once again.

O6 . PHYSICAL TOUCH

Atsumu was a sucker for physical touch, you knew that since you became friends with him. He was always bothering everyone, grabbing their hands, ruffling their hair, hugging them, any way that provided him physical touch worked for him!

It was something you were used to but not something you were always expecting, and also you were sure he wasn’t expecting any from you. Or so you thought, cause lately he’s been kinda whiny about it.

“So, see you tomorrow.” you waved at him as you closed your door after he dropped you off.

You went calmly upstairs, dropping your things in bed and then going to open the curtains and— there he was. Standing in front of the door with his arms crossed.

You raised an eyebrow and opened the window, yelling at him “The hell you’re doing?”

He looked up at you, huffing and then looking down again.

You rolled your eyes and closed your window again before making your way downstairs to see what he needed.

“What, weirdo?” you opened the door, just to see him pouting.

“Ya forgot to hug me goodbye.” he spoke through his teeth.

“Hug you goodbye?” you said with amusement.

“Yeah.” he looked down at him “Ya hate me or somethin’? Ya always hug me before ya leave.”

“Oh, my bad, king.” you mocked, before opening your arms and pulling him for a hug.

He whined but soon enough his arms wrapped around your waist, head buried into your shoulder.

You chuckled as you rolled your eyes, hands rubbing his back, feeling every muscle. Atsumu’s thumbs rubbed circles in the exposed skin of your lower back, he sighed, breathing in your soft scent.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” you mumbled.

“Yeah.” he mumbled back “I’ll pick ya up.”

“Alright.”

“Alright.”

But none of you let go of the other.

O7 . CRUSH?

As a way to celebrate the school days being finally over to go into summer break, you organized a sleepover, and now Atsumu, Osamu, Suna and Aran were there since the others couldn’t make it.

As you and the guys spoke about Osamu’s crush, you suddenly turned to Atsumu.

“And you? Any girl got your heart?” you smiled.

The room suddenly went silent, except for Suna’s low chuckle.

Atsumu was quiet too, he was thinking. Wasn’t he obvious enough? Didn’t he showed his feelings? His heart that beats to your name?

“No.” he looked down, cheeks getting red as he started fidgeting with the control he was holding.

You raised an eyebrow, looking at everyone else. It seemed like they all knew something you didn’t.

“Guys?” you mumbled, but everyone seemed to look away from you.

You looked back at Atsumu and saw his red cheeks, then you looked down, noticing your leg that was on top of his.

Suddenly something clicked in your head. And bells started ringing on your head.

Everything started making sense like a piece of a puzzle.

The girl he had a crush on, was you. Miya Atsumu had a deep crush on you and had been trying to show it to you the whole time.

And, oh god.

You were in love with him too.

[mattyriddlegf]

New Year's Kiss - MR

Happy new years everyone! 2024 gave me so much to be grateful as I started my writing journey here and I cannot wait to see what 2025 brings. Thank you all for all of your support <3

Summary: you miss Mattheo on New Years Eve after a fight between the two of you creates animosity

warnings: suggestive content

word count: ~1k

-----------

It’s New Year's Eve at Hogwarts, the whole castle buzzing with excitement. Students in every house had agreed to be in on the castle party, creating one of the biggest and best kept secrets from professors in recent history.

The room of requirement has been transformed into a large banquet room, ready to host over a hundred kids or more. The drinks have been spiked and the music was blasting, bodies standing all over the place.

You would actually quite enjoy this setting if it weren’t for the fact that you and Mattheo had gotten into a huge fight a few days ago and haven’t made up yet. It was over a stupid topic but both your and Mattheo’s egos have gotten in the way, forcing the two of you to go into the silent treatment with each other.

‘You’re stupid if you think he was just trying to be nice and help you out. He obviously wanted in your pants.’

‘Oh that’s really mature of you Mattheo. Congratulations on being an asshole.’

‘Fuck you.’

‘Yeah well fuck you too.’

The argument replays in your head. Both of you knew how to get under each other’s skin and when you’re mad, your words shoot to kill; the same goes for Mattheo.

You stand alone in the corner in the room sipping on your drink, observing everybody around you. To no surprise, Mattheo hasn’t shown yet. He wasn’t one to like parties, especially not alone so him not showing up made a lot of sense. A small part of you, the part that wasn’t mad at him anymore, kept looking at the door hoping to see him enter.

This would be the third new year of your and Mattheo’s relationship and the previous two years had been spent together, kissing at midnight and separating from the rest of the group afterwards to ring in the new year properly…

“Hey, you doing ok?” Pansy asks, walking up to you and snapping you back to reality. You hadn’t wanted to come to the party either but she had convinced you otherwise, practically begging you to come.

“I’m fine.” you respond quickly, “seriously, go have fun.”

“You miss him don’t you?” she smirks slightly. She was the number one fan of the relationship you and Mattheo had, she knew all of the stuff you had been through together and was genuinely your number one supporter.

You tilt your head, “what makes you say that?”

“sweetie, you wouldn’t be able to fool anyone right now, let alone me.” she laughs, “just admit it…”

You purse your lips, “maybe just a little…”

“Go be with him…you know you want to.” she shrugs, sipping the drink in her hand.

“I don’t know…” you shake your head, “either way, I’m fine. Don’t worry about me!”

She glances between your eyes, looking suspicious before speaking up, “alright fine but I will get you on that dance floor at some point tonight...if you’re still here later”

“Sure thing, I can’t wait.” you smile fakely. You check your watch, 11:42pm, “it’s almost time, you better go find a guy to kiss”

“Oh trust me, I have my eyes on someone already” she smirks and starts walking away.

“Take it easy on Draco” you say louder than normal. She flips her middle finger at you before she disappears back into the crowd.

You slowly make your way over to the liquor table, refilling your drink as you notice a couple, both Ravenclaw’s, across the room. They were standing close to each other, the guy with his arms wrapped around the girl’s back and her arms hanging around his neck as they gently sway to the loud party music in the background.

The feeling in the pit of your stomach was nagging at you, eating away at your pride. Who even cared if you were right in your argument with Mattheo? Now, it seemed like it doesn’t even matter anymore, you just wanted him.

You move your glance over to Theo across the room, who is making out with his new girlfriend. You watch for a few more seconds before looking back down at the watch on your wrist, now reading 11:49pm. Eleven minutes until the New Year and Mattheo was nowhere in sight.

Your heart aches, wanting your love by your side. The mixture of sounds from the party were suddenly hurting your ears.

You set down your full drink on the table before walking out, leaving behind the party. You didn’t want to be there anymore.

You walk through the empty castle, heading straight for the astronomy tower. You know Mattheo will be there without a doubt.

When you reach the top of the tower, the freezing air hits you like a ton of bricks but you see Mattheo leaning on the railing, staring out onto the grounds.

“Hi” you breathe out, just standing there.

Mattheo instantly turns around to face you, “hi.”

You walk up slowly, “it’s cold out here…”

“Weren’t you at the party?” he interrupts, asking you with furrowed eyebrows.

“I didn’t want to be there…not without you.”

He doesn’t respond but looks you up and down and nods.

“The truth is that I don’t even know what we fought about anymore. I just-” you hesitate before continuing, “I love you.”

A smile slowly creeps onto Mattheo’s face. You walk up to him until you’re just inches away from him, the heat of his body begging to touch you.

“You couldn’t even make it one New Year’s kiss without me, could you?” he smirks, wrapping his arms around you and resting his hands on your lower back.

He glances at your watch as your hand rests on his chest, “its almost midnight…” he coos.

“Oh?” you ask sarcastically, “what’s so special about midnight?”

“This…” he trails off as he connects his lips with yours, everything else in the world instantly disappearing.

You hear fireworks going off in the distance, likely from the Weasley twins. You laugh into the kiss before pulling away, “happy new year my love”

“Happy new year mi amor” he responds as he grabs your chin before connecting lips again, your tongues dancing together.

You had started the new year just how you wanted to…with the love of your life.

[steviewashere]

Late night fic idea that I'm definitely going to try and write at some point!!

Definitely very angsty. Steve's got bad parents. A few arguments. And Steve basically restarting his adult life. But it would definitely have a happy ending! Walk with me here.

In early 1987, Steve gets into a nasty argument with his parents. About how much of a disappointment he is, how he can't hold a good enough job, that he's just not who they wanted him to be. They tell him, pretty loudly, that if he can't grow up, then he needs to get out.

He, of course, is very upset by the result of this argument. Because he's trying his damn hardest at this whole adult thing. He's trying his damn hardest to be the person everybody wants him to be; the older brother, the best friend, the boyfriend—the good guy. Yet, even though he's completely emotionally devastated, he still goes to Eddie's because they have a date.

He's not very attentive during the date. Ignoring Eddie's comments sometimes. Giving half answers. And Eddie takes it the opposite of something wrong with Steve—no, he thinks there's something wrong with him. They end up having their own nasty, explosive argument. One that ends with Eddie muttering something along the lines of, "God, I hate you so much right now." He doesn't mean it, knows he doesn't mean it because it's too easy to just say a bullshit claim than talk it all out, hash it out as it is, figure out the root of the problem. However, Steve doesn't know this. Steve thinks Eddie means it.

Thinks that Eddie's just been putting on this interested facade to save Steve's lonely, battered heart. That maybe the novelty of their relationship ran out a long time ago. Eddie's just now telling it as it is; the same way Nancy had. A bullshit relationship, one that never meant anything. (And similar to Nancy, they don't really mean it. It's all just moment of passion stuff).

Steve leaves Eddie's. Leaves with his heart dropped out of him, wet and dead on Eddie's carpet. He leaves with bile in the back of his throat, eyes that ache, a head that's too messy to sort through. And then, the only idea that becomes clear to him: he has to get out.

Get out of Hawkins.

Because if Eddie was thinking something like that all along, who else has been thinking the same thing? Dustin? Max? Robin?

He goes to work. Submits a letter of resignation. Gives the courtesy of two more weeks. And then...

He packs all that he thinks he needs in a couple bags: a backpack and a duffel bag. He sells his car, the only money he now has to his name, plus whatever his last Family Video paycheck is. Steve gets on the closest bus, one that'll take him to a shuttle, and he takes a train out of Indiana.

Goes west. Goes to a shitty neighborhood in Sacramento, as far as he can get. He got the transfer request sent over to a Family Video here, he'll start there soon. He stays in a hotel for a couple nights, a couple nights before he finds a last minute lease for a shitty apartment.

And he just stays there. Stays in Sacramento.

He calls Robin's house once on a payphone, that way he can't be tracked. Robin's not home when he calls. He gives a message to her mom: "Tell Robin that I'm sorry. And...and that I love"—he'd sigh—"Yeah. Yeah, just tell her that I'm sorry, please. I did what I had to." He hangs up, doesn't give another way for him to be contacted and he moves on.

Some years pass. He hasn't been taking care of himself all that well, it's noticeable in how he looks. Scraggly facial hair, heavy eyes, lanky and skinny body, he's mowed down most of his hair. Just looks like an imposter in his own skin. He's working a different dead-end retail job—some supermarket, one that's owned by a corporation, he's one in thousands; somebody not cared for. His social life is nothing. He's weird around other people, weird in general; trauma that's been left unsolved, nightmares that keep him awake (so his neighbors now have a vendetta against him), stares too hard, doesn't like to talk anymore. He's hollow. A man who nobody knows, no connotations, no stupid hierarchies or nicknames attached to him. He's just Steve Harrington, some guy.

Yet, in the time he's been there, he takes up a few hobbies. Ones that work well with his secluded lifestyle. He picks up painting and photography. Things he never thought he'd be interested in. But...but he gets too bored, so he tries.

Finds out that he's good. Finds out that he's good enough for his own small studio space. For a small exhibit in the local art museum. And there, on the floor of his exhibit, idling between people who want to know more about the guy that keeps showing up in his paintings: brown eyes and pink mouth and smiles that are too big for his face; and the woman: a bob with bangs, crystal blue eyes, and a kindness that shows in her soft smiles; it's there that he sees an all too familiar face.

Eddie meets his eyes. Older, grown into his body, same brown eyes, same long curly hair. And there's a sheen of tears in his stare. A recognition he never thought he'd receive.

And there's silence. People passing them by.

Until, when the exhibit is empty except for them, Steve can only muster a simple, "Hey." And a smile, something thin that doesn't feel very real. Didn't want to be found, not yet. But in the paintings, he's been dreaming; he's been searching.

From the entryway of another exhibit, one that connects to Steve's, Robin appears. She's got that '90s pixie. And cherry stained lips. Grunge eyeshadow and an ill fitting, hole-riddled t-shirt that Steve slowly realizes is one he wore; those red Converse from Scoops, faded black Sharpie, but the only text that's still dark (as if it's been written over and over) is one he put there: "Dingus was here". She doesn't even speak. Only knows. Tripping over her own feet, dashing across the waxed floor, sliding across it with clumsy limbs. Crashing straight into Steve, hefting him up in her arms, squeezing him so tight he can't breathe.

When she places him back down on the ground, standing side by side with Eddie, the two of them simply staring at him in awe and relief, Eddie finally speaks for the two of them.

He fucking speaks. His voice is dripping with relief, yearning rich and honey-sweet in the vowels. Words full of love that's been stirring slow like a stew in his heart, thick and clogging.

"There you are, sweetheart. There you are."

[henry7931]

Great Shift; On The Farm

Andy:

I’ve been having a hard time adjusting to my new body especially since it belonged to my big brother Henry.

But Henry is having an even harder time with things. We are polar opposites and he hates having my “scrawny gay” body. (His words not mine)

That’s why my parents thought it would be a great idea for me to spend the summer with my grandpa on the farm.

My grandpa was also shifted into my cousin Garrett’s body which makes us the same age now. Weird right?

So when I arrive I see my grandpa outside in Garrett’s body doing some work. And I’m surprised by how he looks. It’s been years since I’ve seen Garrett and his body looks a lot different.

Handsome, I might say.

I feel myself getting somewhat excited about the thought but immediately turned it down in my head. That’s still my cousin’s body with my grandpa in it.

I get dropped off by my dad (who’s in our neighbor Rogers body).

“Hey dad! You never looked better,” he says to my grandpa.

“Yeah and you look older,” he says with a big smirk and a wink.

“Geez, thanks.”

“Andy! How are you bud?” says my grandpa pulling me in for a hug and I can feel his shirtless sweaty body rubbing up on me.

“Hey grandpa!” I say trying not to get a boner.

“Oh no! I’m not grandpa anymore, I’m just Harry now.”

“Oh okay, sorry.”

“Hey don’t apologize, you and I are going to have a lot of fun this summer.”

Grandpa or ‘Harry’ messes up my hair a bit.

“Great, I can’t wait!”

My dad says goodbye to us as I grab my bags. Grandpa or Harry— walks in with me and we catch up for a few.

“How are things for you Andy? Are you adjusting well to your brother’s body?”

“ I guess so, at least better than Henry with mine. I don’t know it’s all still odd to me.”

“Well I know it takes time but just embrace it. This is probably permanent and as much as I hate it for your cousin— I’ve accepted his body as my own. I actually feel comfortable in it. Plus, your cousin was a prick prior to everything— god love him. I’d say this humbled him. Probably will humble Henry too. I remember when those boys used to pick on you.”

“Yeah…” I said looking down at my brothers hands. Flashbacks from years ago started to fill my head back when Henry and Garrett used to trick me into doing stupid stuff.

“But that doesn’t matter now, Andy. This is the new us. So let’s enjoy ourselves! Wanna beer? You’re old enough now haha.”

“Uhhh sure!”

We both sat at the table and drank beer together.

I listen to Harry talk but I can’t take my eyes off of his shirtless chest.As he’s talking, he pulls off his shoes and I can instantly smell his stinky feet.

He pulls his sock off and now I have a full view of his foot. He notices me looking and says, “sorry that smell so bad.”

“No you’re good, I don’t mind.”

“Oh no! What if I—”

He takes Garrett’s foot puts it up close to my face.

I jump back to make it seem like I was grossed out.

“Hahaha sorry! Just wanted to make you jump! You have no idea how much I appreciate these smelly toes…” he says rubbing his foot. “I used to have a hard time walking and now I can do anything!”

Harry continues to tell me about how things are so different from when he was originally 21. And I learned so much about him that I didn’t know.

Hours past and it’s around 8. We cook dinner together and both of us were pretty lit by then.

We eat and by this point both of us are ready for bed.

Harry, who doesn’t seem to have a care in the world and is way more hammered than me, strips off all of his clothes down to his briefs.

He crawls into bed and tells me to give him a hug. I do and I notice something strange… he’s fondling his crotch.

Oh my!! He has a boner! Even the head of his dick is coming out of his briefs.

Of course I don’t point it out, I just try to say good night to him.

But before he lets me go he gives me a kiss on the lips. It took me so off guard and yet I felt that same excited energy like earlier. As I pull back, he says to me, “you just wait, this is going to be the best summer yet.”

“Okay Harry, I’ll see you in the morning.”

I hit the light and look at him in bed. My dick gets hard just at the sight of his feet.

I walk up to him and snoring. I carefully bend down and sniff them.

Fuckkkkk…

I go to the guest bedroom, licking my lips from Harry’s sloppy kiss and kick off all of the clothes I had on.

I look at Henry’s reflection in the mirror. I’ve had some shame about being put into this body. And yet it wasn’t anything I could control.

I think about what Harry said to me. “Embrace my new body.”

Well I guess if this is mine permanently then I need to accept it.

I sit on the ground and look at the feet that used to belong to my big brother… but they’re mine now. I control them. And you know what? Like I them!

I grab on to MY 10 inch dick and started pumping it. Letting out grunts… shit it feels so good! I haven’t jerked off since the shift…

I rub my hands over my chest and back down to my thighs. I feel my butt cheeks and grab on to one.

I watch myself in the bedroom mirror making lustful faces to myself. Although I look like some country boy, I’m still the same skinny gay guy deep down. Or maybe I’m now something in the middle?

I feel my balls tighten and I knew I was close. Cum squirts out of me and it’s so much of it.

I feel so much relief, it’s been so long!

I clean myself up and try my cum for the first time.

I lay back in bed and begin to slowly fall asleep.

The Next Morning…

“Hey bud, you ready to start our day?” says Harry.

My first thing I see in morning is Harry’s bulge. Half way awake I’m almost tempted to touch it.

“Good morning…”

I pull the blanket off of me and Harry has a big grin across his face.

“Someone must have been having a good dream,” he says directing to my crotch.

I look down at my naked frame and my raging morning wood.

“Oh sorry!” I say tossing the blanket back over.

“Oh don’t be! Also, don’t worry about hiding your parts from me. Especially that handsome thing you got between your legs.”

I pull the blanket back and Harry sits by my bed.

“Do you mind if I?” he says gesturing to it again.

“Sure!”

Harry grabs my dick and I let out a little grunt.

He starts running his fingers all over and I’m in such a state of shock I almost thought it was all a dream.

“Boy this is such a good lookin cock! Sorry for playing with your junk. I’m just so horny in this body and it’s been a bit since I’ve seen someone else’s bits.”

“I don’t mind at all Harry.”

Harry continues to fondle my wood and it’s almost too much to handle. I need to just tell him how I feel, I mean he can’t make it more obvious on his feelings.

“Harry!”

“Yeah?”

“I have to tell you something?”

“What is it?”

“I’m so attracted to you, I don’t know if it’s right or wrong but I want you so bad right now.”

“Well, I have to say that I have the same feelings. And honestly don’t know what to do with them either.”

“Well we could just act on them…”

Harry puts my cock down and gets close to my face.

“If we do this we can’t go back.”

“I know.”

“Also we can’t tell anyone.”

“I won’t tell a single person.”

“Good.”

Harry kisses me with so much passion, he kisses down my neck, my chest, all the way until he’s face to face with my cock.

Harry sucks me off and I watch him work my dick. He feels up and down my Harry balls.

“Ohhhh god Harry!!!”

His warm mouth feels so good. I can only hold out for so long….

“Fuccccc!!!!! Harry! I’m gonna cum!”

I expected him to pull back but he keeps his mouth on my dick.

I explode into Harry’s mouth. He sucks all of it out of me until I’ve released every last drop.

He looks up at me with a big grin and cum dripping from his lips, “you taste good bud!”

“Thanks lol, so… do you want me to…”

Before I can say anything Harry yanks off his underwear and lays back in bed.

“Show me what you got,” he says with a smirk.

[rosemariiaa]

𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 01, 𝙅𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙖𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙪𝙨𝙚𝙧.

“I wish I was a normal girl, oh, my How do I be,

how do I be your baby?”

˖˙ ᰋ ── pairing: Paige x Azzi

˖˙ ᰋ ── synopsis: tell the truth?

˖˙ ᰋ ── rosie note: ahh first chapter! i’m really excited to see how this series goes..(i hope you guys are too). i do wanna say I will not be dropping chapters back to back just because ik each chapter will be long enough and also i have other things to do. but you never know what i have up my sleeve sooo just wait! i actually did cry a lot writing this so yw. happy reading lovelies 💌

˖˙ ᰋ ── themes: hurt/comfort, mentions of depression, some fluff

enjoy!!!

May, 2014. Virginia MN

Azzis days felt like she was wading through an invisible fog, where each step felt heavier than the last. She moved through school in a daze, surrounded by classmates and noise but feeling distanced from it all, as if she were behind a glass wall. Teachers spoke, friends laughed, yet nothing seemed to reach her, and nothing seemed worth responding to.

She leaned against her bedroom wall, her gaze fixed on the ceiling, the thoughts came like waves, too heavy to escape but too constant to ignore. At home, the silence only deepened. Her puppy was her only real source of comfort, a small warmth that reminded her she wasn’t completely alone.

Yet, even with him there, the sadness was like a relentless wave, threatening to pull her under. As she lay in bed, Azzi’s mind circled around her own thoughts, dark and tangled, the weight pressing down on her chest. Sometimes, she felt the urge to cry, but the tears would stall. Other times, they would pour out uncontrollably, as if her body knew it needed to release the heaviness she carried.

Azzi remembered words that lingered in her mind like a mantra:

“Cry. Cry for an hour, cry for a day, cry for a week. Cry until you can’t cry anymore, until the tears stop coming, until you feel better, until you heal.

Crying is your body’s way of releasing sadness; let it out and then let it go.”

But the letting go part felt impossible.

She knew she was lucky—talented, even—but that didn’t stop the weight pressing down on her, making everything she did feel more like a chore than a choice.

Sometimes it felt like she was just going through the motions: school, basketball practice, homework, repeat. But there was a deeper loneliness, one that made her question what any of it even meant. Every now and then, she’d think, Would anyone even notice if I disappeared for a day? A week? That quiet thought haunted her, lingering in the back of her mind as she navigated her days, waiting for someone to prove it wrong. But no one ever did.

Grabbing her laptop, she opened up her anonymous Blogspot account. Writing had become her escape, a safe place to let her thoughts spill out without anyone knowing they were hers. She’d been posting as @unicornpuppy35 for a while now, hoping someone out there might understand her, even if they never knew her name. A new notification popped up.

Azzi blinked at the screen, surprised to see a comment on her latest post. It was from someone called @boogers_p.

“hey, I saw your post about feeling stuck. I get that. I feel like that a lot, too.”

For a moment, she almost ignored it. Just another user on the internet, right? But something about the way they’d phrased it struck a chord. She found herself typing back before she even knew what she wanted to say.

unicornpuppy35: Oh yeah? What’s got you feeling stuck?

The reply came quickly.

boogers_p: lol, how much time u got? but mostly… everything’s just movin’, and i’m still here. it’s like ur doing all this stuff, but half the time u can’t even tell if u actually care abt it.

Azzi frowned, feeling that weird sense of familiarity in the words.

unicornpuppy35: Exactly, like a constant loop. But what’s the point, right?

boogers_p: fr! it’s like… i’m goin’ thru the motions but who even knows why.

A smile tugged at her lips. Whoever this was, they got it. They actually understood what she was feeling. And it was strange, but it made her feel just a little less alone.

unicornpuppy35: So, what’s your thing? Like, if you had to pick.

boogers_p: lol basketball. but sometimes i’m like… is this all there is?

Azzi blinked. Out of all the things they could have in common, it was basketball. Funny, or maybe just ironic.

unicornpuppy35: Wait, seriously? Are we living the same life or what?

boogers_p: guess that means we’re stuck in the same boat, huh?

Azzi let herself relax into the conversation, forgetting for a moment that she was talking to a stranger. She leaned back, fingers tapping against the keyboard.

unicornpuppy35: So, if we’re both stuck… what’s the plan? How do we get out?

boogers_p: girl, if i knew, we’d be out already, trust. maybe we keep chattin n figure it out.

Azzi laughed softly, a weight lifting from her shoulders that she hadn’t even realized was there.

unicornpuppy35: Deal. Looks like I just made a new friend.

There was a pause, then @boogers_p’s next message popped up.

boogers_p: btw, ‘unicornpuppy35’? gotta ask: what’s the story there?

Azzi rolled her eyes, smirking as she typed back.

unicornpuppy35: What? You don’t like it?

boogers_p: nah it’s cool, just funny. u like unicorns that much?

unicornpuppy35: Who doesn’t like unicorns? And I have a puppy, so it made sense at the time.

boogers_p: lol alright then, unicorn girl.

unicornpuppy35: “Boogers” is somehow less embarrassing to you?

The reply was fast.

boogers_p: hey! don’t come for my name. so do u even keep up w ball like that?

Azzi laughed, a real laugh, and typed, I mean, I love the game, especially the wcbb, but I barely keep up with men’s college basketball.

boogers_p: WHAT i can’t believe that …u at least know who Kyrie is right??

Azzi smiled, rolling her eyes as she typed, I know who he is, I just don’t watch him like that. I’m more into Breanna Stewart.

boogers_p: ohh okay stewie’s dope. but trust, kyrie’s handles r insane. hold up lemme get u the link.

Azzi barely clicked on the link before skimming, smiling at Paige’s excitement.

As Azzi sat back, scrolling through this user’s texts, a small part of her was overwhelmed by everything, like a weight on her chest she couldn’t quite shake off. It felt strange how this stranger’s blunt and funny messages could draw her out of her own head—even if just for a bit. She was used to feeling invisible, yes, her struggles buried under her quiet exterior, but this strangers presence, even from behind a screen, felt real.

A few seconds ticked by as she sank into her thoughts, that weight of loneliness and uncertainty creeping in again. She knew people saw her as the “soft one,” but beneath that, her emotions felt raw, and she wondered if anyone truly understood.

Suddenly, her phone screen lit up with rapid notifications.

boogers_p: hellooooooo? did u leave?

boogers_p: r u asleep already or smth??

Azzi’s lips turned up in a small smile. She quickly replied.

unicornpuppy35: “Geez, relax. I’m still here.”

boogers_p: “finally! thought I lost ya for a sec. kinda rude to just ghost me like that, you know?”

Azzi smirked, typing back slowly.

unicornpuppy35: “Yeah, yeah. Guess I was just thinking.”

boogers_p: “Ooooh, deep thoughts? Or like… deep-deep thoughts?”

Azzi hesitated, fingers hovering over the keyboard, but she quickly brushed it off.

unicornpuppy35: “nope, just regular deep, I guess.”

boogers_p: “good, I thought you might’ve been drafting your escape from my endless questions.”

unicornpuppy35: “ y’know you’re kind of funny , i’ll give you that. lol”

boogers_p: “ik ik. btw, where do you go to school? And don’t tell me it’s some fancy private place or whatever.”

unicornpuppy35: “Haha, what are you, a stalker? why do you wanna know?”

boogers_p: “what? nah, just curious! alright, lemme guess… you seem like a midwest kid. Iowa?”

unicornpuppy35: “nope, not even close. Try again, Sherlock.”

boogers_p: “alright, alright… new jersey?”

Azzi laughed, shaking her head at her screen.

unicornpuppy35: “nope. You’re pretty bad at this, you know.”

boogers_p: “whatever, I’m warming up! Um… cali? bet you’re like, all into the beach.”

unicornpuppy35: “keep guessing P! maybe you’ll get it right before I graduate.”

boogers_p: “damn, you’re killin’ me here. fine, one more—Texas?”

unicornpuppy35: “Guess you’re gonna have to stay curious, stalker.”

“P” sent a string of laughing emojis, clearly frustrated but amused.

boogers_p: “oh, okay, I see how it is. mysterious and all that. fine, keep your secrets.”

Azzi smiled, finding herself genuinely entertained by Paige’s playful determination to figure her out. It was nice, having someone care enough to ask.

Azzi shook her head, laughing at the sight of P typing “helloooooo?” over and over.

unicornpuppy35: Still here! Just still laughing at your terrible guesses.

boogers_p: ohhh shut up 😆 one day you’ll tell me!

As they continued chatting, Azzi couldn’t help but feel a little lighter, like maybe she wasn’t quite so alone after all.

————-

I glanced at the clock in the corner of my screen. Midnight. Crap. How had it gotten so late?

unicornpuppy35: alright, P, it’s late. I should get some sleep—school tomorrow and all 😊

I typed, hesitating for a moment before hitting send. I didn’t want the conversation to end, not when it felt so… easy.

The reply came almost instantly.

boogers_p: lame but yeah, same here. don’t oversleep, though, or I’ll roast you about it next time

I smiled softly, my fingers moving across the keyboard.

unicornpuppy35: gnn P

boogers_p: night unicorn, catch you later.

I closed my laptop, leaning back against my pillow with a soft sigh. My room was quiet except for the gentle snuffling of my puppy curled up at the end of the bed. I hated how much I didn’t want to stop talking to her—or whoever she was—but I could already hear my mom’s voice in my head if I overslept tomorrow.

Still, the flicker of warmth in my chest wouldn’t go away. For the first time in a while, I didn’t feel so alone.

————-

The warm weight of my puppy’s paws jolted me awake, followed by his enthusiastic tongue licking my cheek. I groaned, shoving him away gently before squinting at my phone.

“Crap.” 7:40. At least practice was after school today, but I still had school before then.

“Azzi!” Mom’s voice carried from the kitchen, sharp and frustrated. “Do you even know what time it is? You’re going to be late—again!”

“I know, Mom!” I called back, stumbling out of bed and tossing clothes around my room.

When I finally trudged downstairs, backpack slung over one shoulder, she was waiting, arms crossed. “Do you? Because this is becoming a habit. You need to start taking this seriously, Azzi. Coaches notice stuff like this.”

I rolled my eyes, grabbing a grabbing a piece of nutella toast from the plate on the counter. “It’s not like I’m failing or anything.”

“That’s not the point!” Her voice rose a notch, and I flinched. “You’re juggling basketball, school, and everything else. If you can’t manage your mornings, how are you supposed to handle the rest?”

“I’ve got it under control.” The words came out sharper than I intended, and guilt immediately twisted in my stomach.

She softened slightly but shook her head. “You have so much potential, Azzi. I just don’t want you to waste it. That’s all.”

I sighed, hugging the puppy briefly before heading out the door. “I won’t.”

Her voice followed me, softer now. “Make sure you don’t.”

As I stepped outside, the crisp morning air hit me, making me shiver slightly. My puppy barked once from the window, his tail wagging furiously. I couldn’t help but smile, even as Mom’s words echoed in my head.

She wasn’t wrong, but sometimes it felt like the pressure of living up to everyone’s expectations, especially hers was just all so suffocating. I jogged toward the bus stop, earbuds in, my mind already racing through the day ahead: school, practice, and maybe—if I had time—another chat with P.

The bus ride wasn’t much better than waking up. Just the usual hum of the engine and kids mumbling into their phones. I leaned my head against the window, the cold glass biting at my cheek, and zoned out. School wasn’t exactly a place I looked forward to.

By the time I walked into first period, I was already tuning out the chatter around me. The teacher called for us to break into groups, and I found myself sitting with three classmates who barely glanced my way.

“We should start with the data chart,” I said, glancing at the worksheet.

“Yeah, yeah,” one of them mumbled, already scribbling something down.

Another classmate leaned over to add something, completely ignoring what I’d just said. My lips pressed into a thin line. This wasn’t new. It was like my words existed in a bubble, bouncing off everyone and disappearing into thin air. I tried again.

“If we divide the work, we’ll finish faster—”

“Wait, no, let’s do this first,” someone interrupted, their voice cutting over mine.

I stopped mid-sentence, letting my pen drop to the table. They didn’t even notice. Just kept talking like I wasn’t there.

I didn’t bother saying anything else for the rest of the class. It wasn’t worth it.

By lunch, I was drained. I slid into a chair at the edge of the cafeteria, next to a group of friends who were already knee-deep in some conversation.

“Azzi, did you see that ridiculous shot Ty took in practice yesterday?” one of them asked, barely waiting for my answer before launching into their own commentary.

I nodded, offering a small laugh. It wasn’t worth jumping in. Every time I tried to add something to a conversation, it either got talked over or shifted in another direction.

But it didn’t stop me from noticing.

As I picked at my food, my thoughts drifted back to last night’s chat with P. They actually listened. Responded. It felt… different. Maybe that’s why it was still on my mind.

————-

By the time I got to practice, my head was already in a fog. It felt like no matter where I went, no one really saw me. At school, at home—was it too much to ask for someone to actually listen?

“Azzi, let’s go! You’re up!” Coach’s voice snapped me back. I jogged to the front of the line, grabbing a ball. Simple drill. Layups. Easy.

Except I missed.

“Come on, Azzi!” one of the captains called, exasperation clear in her voice. My jaw tightened.

I grabbed the rebound and tried again, but my footwork was off. The ball clanged off the rim.

“Focus, Azzi!” Coach barked.

I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat, and got back in line. When my turn came again, I nailed the layup, but the damage was already done.

As we transitioned to scrimmage, it only got worse. I called for the ball—wide open on the wing—but my teammate didn’t even look my way. I sprinted to the other side of the court, yelling louder this time. Nothing.

“Azzi, move the ball!” someone shouted when I finally had possession, cutting me off before I could even make a decision.

It was like being invisible. Nothing new though.

By the time practice ended, my legs ached, and my chest felt even heavier than when I’d started. I stayed behind to shoot free throws, trying to shake off the weight.

One ball after another swished through the net, but the sinking feeling didn’t budge.

By the time I finally walked out of the gym, the sun had dipped low, painting the sky in soft pinks and oranges. My legs felt like lead, and I slung my bag over one shoulder, the strap digging in just enough to annoy me. God.

I spotted our car parked at the far end of the lot, Mom’s silhouette visible through the windshield. She was scrolling on her phone, waiting. I sighed, tugging my hoodie tighter as I trudged toward her.

As I got closer, I caught sight of my brothers in the backseat. Jose was watching something on his tablet, headphones on, and Jon was playing with a Rubik’s cube. Lucky them—they didn’t have to deal with “the talk” I was sure was coming.

The second I opened the door and tossed my bag onto the floor, Mom started in.

“So, your coach called me today,” she said, her tone sharp but controlled.

I froze, mid-seatbelt click. Great.

She said you’ve been distracted. Not focused. Is something going on?”

I stared out the window, watching the streetlights blur past. “I’m fine,” I mumbled.

“Azzi, ‘fine’ isn’t good enough. You’re not putting in the work, and it’s starting to show. You need to get your head in the game. You think colleges are going to be interested in someone who’s half-assing it?”

Her words stung, but I bit my tongue, glancing at Jose and Jon in the backseat. Jon was tapping away on his tablet, and Jose had his headphones in. Good. I didn’t want them listening to this.

“I’m not half-a wording it,” I said quietly.

“Oh, really? Because that’s not what I heard today. Your coach says otherwise.”

I clenched my jaw, willing myself not to argue. I couldn’t let this turn into something bigger, not with my brothers right here.

“Mom, I said I’m fine,” I repeated, more firmly this time.

She sighed, shaking her head. “Azzi, you can’t afford to slack off. You’ve worked too hard for this. Don’t throw it all away now.”

I stared straight ahead, tuning her out as best I could. My chest felt tight, but I refused to let it show. I nodded along, letting her words wash over me without sticking.

When we finally pulled into the driveway, I bolted from the car, mumbling something about needing to shower. The second my bedroom door shut, I collapsed onto my bed, burying my face in the pillow.

For a few minutes, I just lay there, letting the weight of the day press down on me. Then I grabbed my laptop and opened the chat.

unicornpuppy35: “hey, you around?”

The reply came quicker than I expected.

boogers_p: “yup what’s up?”

I hesitated, fingers hovering over the keyboard. How much could I even say without sounding like I was whining?

unicornpuppy35: “rough day.”

boogers_p: “wanna talk about it?”

I stared at the screen. Did I?

unicornpuppy35: “not really. just needed a distraction.”

boogers_p: “fair. ok, here’s a distraction: what’s your dream ice cream flavor? like if you could invent anything.”

I blinked at the random question, a laugh escaping before I could stop it.

unicornpuppy35: “that’s… so random.”

boogers_p: “that’s the point. distraction, remember?”

boogers_p: “but… you do know you don’t have to push it down, y’know? sometimes it helps to just let it out. Especially with me.”

My chest tightened again. It wasn’t like I didn’t want to talk—I just wasn’t sure how.

unicornpuppy35: “oh um okay, it’s just been a lot. school sucks, practice was worse, and my mom’s acting like I’m throwing my whole future away. But what’s the point in saying anything? It’s not like it changes.”

I stared at the screen, half-wishing I could take it back. But, I typed again.

unicornpuppy35: “it’s like… everybody talks to me like I’m supposed to change. like they’ve already decided what’s wrong with me and what I need to do to fix it. but how am I supposed to change when I don’t even know who I am yet? it’s like no one cares about that part.”

The typing bubble appeared almost immediately.

boogers_p: “damn, unicorn. that’s real. people are so quick to act like they know what’s best for you, but they don’t live your life. you don’t owe them anything.”

I felt a lump rise in my throat as I stared at P’s message.

unicornpuppy35: “exactly. like… they’ve already made up their minds, and nothing I say matters. but I don’t even know who I’m supposed to be yet. And then when I try to figure it out, they’re just like, ‘No, not like that.’ it’s so exhausting.”

boogers_p: “i get it. they want you to follow their script, but maybe their script sucks. you’re allowed to write your own, even if it takes time.”

My fingers hesitated over the keyboard. I feel the tears running down my cheeks and falling onto the keypad.

unicornpuppy35: “sometimes I feel like I’m never gonna figure it out. like I’ll just keep messing up until everyone gives up on me.”

P didn’t reply right away, and for a moment, I worried I’d said too much. I’m trying my best to wipe the tears that are falling, but they just won’t stop coming.

But then their message popped up

boogers_p: “ listen to me. you’re allowed to take up space, to mess up, to figure things out in your own time. screw what everyone else thinks. you’re not a project they get to fix.”

A shaky breath left my chest, and I swiped at my eyes before more of my tears could fall onto the laptop.

unicornpuppy35: “thanks, P. I mean it. you’re the only one who really listens.”

boogers_p: “anytime you’re stuck with me now, remember?”

I didn’t mind that one bit and for the first time all day, I let myself breathe.

————-

March 21, Minneapolis, Minnesota

I stared at the screen, the cursor blinking against the blank message box. Her words replayed in my mind like a song I couldn’t shake off.

“Nobody listens. Nobody sees me.”

I didn’t know what to say back, not really. Azzi didn’t just sound tired—she sounded done. And it scared me more than I wanted to admit.

My fingers hovered over the keyboard.

“Azzi…”

I typed..wanting to send but no.

I couldn’t. Not yet.

————-

taglist ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

@thaatdigitaldiary @patscorner @ohbueckers @sierrale8ne @mrsarnold @absolutelydreadful @authentic-girl03 @lupinqs @d3arapril @pboogerswbb @imaginespazzi

₊˚ෆ always lmk if u wanna be added to my taglist muah ₊˚ෆ

[silksongeveryday]

Drawing Hornet everyday until Silksong comes out - Day 600!

Here’s a quick 30 min doodle to celebrate! :D

Man time really flies huh

Thank you guys for 3.1k btw!!!

And big thank you to those who have joined me in this wild journey of daily doodles no matter how long you’ve been here. Truly did not expect what started as a joke to make it this far lol

(more stuff I wanted to talk about under the cut)

-A few updates-

General Stuff:

Well, life has been generally pretty busy. And while that’s made it a little more challenging to do daily doodles as of late, it’s been alright for the most part. Some of you may have noticed though that a lot of my daily posts have been showing up as much as 1-2 hours later than the regular time. Unfortunately with all the stuff I’ve been taking care of lately, putting a daily doodle/drawing on top of the pile means it’ll be late very often. I kind of have an unofficial job irl now so this stuffs hard to juggle sometimes.

Hornet’s Strange Adventures:

Initially I was hoping to get a lot of stuff done for this game during October but some recent job stuff is making that pretty hard to do. I probably won’t be able to make any significant progress on this game until very late October and into November. So if you were looking forward to big updates on progress, it sadly won’t be for a while, sorry. Outside of that though, I can at least say that all the routes have been thoroughly planned out from start to finish including the secret route. This includes rewriting some choices that have already been seen during the game’s time on ssed.

About Doodle Requests

I haven’t had them open for a while anyway, but I’ve finally come to the decision that I will no longer be taking doodle requests through tumblr asks/inbox. As fun as it was in the beginning, I often found myself trying to fulfill requests on the daily and that was stressful. That being said, it doesn’t necessarily mean I’m stopping requests entirely. I just don’t really want to do them for free anymore. Since I’m on Hornet Journal Series still, it’s a long way away before anything happens, but there’s a likely chance I’ll only do commissioned doodle requests whenever they re-open. We’ll see as it gets closer though.

Thoughts on taking an actual break:

I’ve mentioned this a lot in the past both here on ssed and on my main blog, but I’ve been seriously considering taking a break. Like a real one. Not just a “I’m gonna stockpile a bunch of doodles and pick it back up when I run out” kind of break. Especially with the way life has been going lately (mostly positive at least), I feel as though I may have to retire from daily doodles somewhat soon if there is no official news by the time this blog hits its 2 year mark. Don’t get me wrong I’ve loved doing this for the almost two years that it’s been going but at some point I’ll have to move on from this whether I like it or not. Does this mean that activity on this blog stops altogether? No. I just won’t be doing daily doodles anymore. There’s a more likely chance it would end up being weekly, or possibly monthly. Just not daily anymore.

Whatever the case, that decision will be considered more when 2 years gets closer. Until then just enjoy daily doodles while they’re still here!

—————————————————-

I think that’s all I can think of to say right now. Might post more thoughts on my main maybe?? We’ll see

Thank you again to all the lovely people that have been here during this crazy journey, you guys are awesome :D

[revelboo]

I’m absolutely melting over Spinster snuggling his big ol face against their lil human. It’s soo cute and fluffy and I love it when full-size mechs still find ways to do affectionate things like that despite the size difference.

Sounds like the Scavengers have a rough job ahead of them going off that ending. Makes me wondered if Spinister comes back in a unconscious state, would our honorary scavenger try to do the face nuzzling back in a worried attempt to wake him up?

Oooh drama. Yes, please. Gotta get there, though. Shenanigans first

A Lifeless Ordinary Pt 12

Scavengers x Reader

• “Right there. Don’t move,” Crankcase says as Spinister obediently stands in the doorway to the bridge completely oblivious. Otherwise he’d probably be offended or attack as Crankcase rigs up a blaster pointing at his head and tapes it down to a console. “Okay, tiny. Anyone comes through that door that’s not us, you pull this trigger.” Hooking a servo around you to drag you closer when you shy away. “You don’t hear them out or ask who they are. You shoot first. Understand?”

• “Yeah,” you mumble as Spin lifts a hand and waves from his spot playing target. Aware of the way Crankcase and Krok are both staring at you like they don’t believe you’ll be able to do it. “I can do it.” No, you’re pretty sure you can’t. Even if someone comes in with a gun drawn on you, you’re not sure you can just shoot them in the face point blank. You’re not nearly cold blooded enough for that, but you force a smile anyway so they won’t worry. Because you can’t really beg not to be left alone, can’t admit that you’re scared.

• “It’s not a kind galaxy,” Krok says, watching you clasp your hands together, avoiding their optics. “And you’re very soft.” Too soft. Too gentle. Anxiously clicking at the device in his hand, he’s almost tempted to tell Fulcrum to stay with you even though they need him. Primus knows Misfire can’t hit anything, Spinister gets distracted with his own shadow, and Crankcase sometimes freezes. “You can’t be soft out here.” Because you won’t survive and they need you here with them. Looking after their own because they’re all they each have and you’re part of that.

• “Try not to find a stupid way to die,” Misfire adds, reaching to gently flip your hair into your face. Grinning when you scowl at him, but don’t offer the rude hand gesture. You’ve been very careful not to do that anymore, he’s noticed. No longer interested in them? Or just embarrassed now that they know it’s an offer?

• Worried, you watch them gather their gear which mostly seems to be a small armory’s worth of guns and leave you behind on the console with a blaster you’re not even sure you’re strong enough to pull the trigger on. Rubbing your hands against your arms, you walk toward the edge of the console to sit and nearly fall flat on your face. Something has you by the leg and you yelp when you slide into an awkward sit on your hip, leg and foot in the air. You’re stuck to the alien equivalent of duct tape, one corner of it having rolled slightly. Swearing you try to pull loose, the stuff not budging at all. Awkwardly pulling yourself up, you hiss as your shirt sleeve gets stuck. And panic claws at you as you think of glue traps. Of small animals getting stuck and suffocating themselves trying to get loose. “Spin! Krok! Misfire?” You scream.

• Returning to the ship a full rotation later, it’s a relief to see it intact. The ramp still closed. Fulcrum vents as he follows Misfire inside, almost walking into the other con when he stops suddenly. And starts laughing. Leaning to look, he grimaces and shoves past Misfire. Because you’re half naked, your lower covering stuck to the tape, your upper cover hooked around your neck, the sleeve also stuck and the ends of your hair caught in the tape so you’re bent over at an awkward looking angle. Hearing them, your head turns and you’re leaking, making a hitching sound that sobers Misfire immediately. Both of them coming over. “Shh, it’s okay. Primus. How do we get you loose without hurting you?” Fulcrum asks, servos ghosting over you as you sob.

• “Tiny!” Spinister roars as soon as he spots you, rushing to get at you only to be stopped by Crankcase and Krok seizing his arms. “Let go!” Straining to get free as he drags them toward you. You’re in pain, hurting. That noise you’re making twisting unpleasantly in his spark as Krok hooks an arm around his neck. “Calm down, if you try to yank them loose you’ll hurt them,” Krok snarls as he’s dragged by the much bigger mech.

• “Cut me loose, please,” you whimper, neck, back and legs aching from the position you’re trapped in. Hear Spin howling as he fights against the other two then a thump and swearing. You’d tried to tear your hair loose for hours, but only ended up making it worse. And now you can’t stop bawling like a baby. Sniffling as Misfire produces a blade and then hesitates, expression almost stricken. “I’m sorry,” he says and then he’s sawing at your hair, trying to not take off too much. Fulcrum catching you when you pull loose from your shirt and fall backwards, legs tingling with pins and needles. “Does it hurt?” Slumped in Fulcrum’s palm, you look up at Misfire and it takes a moment to figure out what he’s talking about, taken by surprise by how miserable he looks.

• “I don’t feel it when my hair is cut, hun,” you say, just lying there. And he puts the blade away, wanting to reach for you as his optics slide to the tape you’d gotten caught on. Realizing what would have happened if you’d kept struggling, if you’d panicked trying to get free. That you’d have died there and it shocks through him how ridiculously fragile you are. Reaching to tip your flushed face up, watching your eyes leak, he feathers his servos against you to feel the frantic pounding of your heart. “Where’s Spin?” You ask, voice ragged. Glancing back, he winces. Growling a warning when Fulcrum turns with you cupped in his hands so you can see Spinister sprawled on the floor when Krok or Crankcase had decked him to keep him from freaking out and accidentally making things worse. “Spin!”

Previous

Next

[wandering-pirate]

How does a moon lose its glow?

Summary: Swansea always thought he was looking out for you, but now? Now that he learned what happened, something he could’ve stopped, what would the mechanic do?

Pairings: Father figure! Swansea x reader

a/n: Hey, everyone! Just a quick note before you proceed.

Trigger warning: angst, sexual abuse, violence against women and trauma from said experiences. There are no explicit contents, however, the trauma of a victim is detailed in the story. As always, take care of yourselves while reading <3

a/n: shoutout to @kobiisworld for requesting this!! ask box is open for requests!

1 day before the crash

Swansea's forehead never lost its wrinkles this week. The old man's face was always lined like he was constantly carrying the weight of the world, but now they were deeper.

The mechanic always knew you as the one to break the silence, the one who kept things light, always making the long stretches across space feel less like a prison and more like a field trip. The moon in Tulpar's darkness.

"Come on, geezer," you grinned, pointing to the a steel chain that’s almost comical in size compared to his rough, calloused hands. "You’ve been fixing engines before I was born, but is that lil thing too much for you?"

He may never outright say it, but you were like a daughter to him. But recently, you changed, and he could see it in the way you didn’t even try to lift the mood anymore.

No more jokes with Daisuke, no more corny comments that always made the captain groan, no more gossips with Anya, and no lighthearted banter with Swansea. Instead, there was just… emptiness. The mechanic didn't know how a moon would lose its glow, but somehow, you did.

You became a stranger. A shell. He could see it in the way your hands uncontrollably shook, in the distant look in your eyes. It scared him more than he wanted to admit. But he was never one to poke around on someone else's business. No, always kept his nose to himself.

Now, you were hunched over the inventory of the utility room, checking quantity when Swansea entered. You jumped at the hissing sound of the entrance, your breath catching in your throat.

"Ya alright, kid?" He did his best to keep his tone gentle, as gentle as a Swansea could be.

“Yeah… yeah, just thought…” You stammered, your voice faltering as you quickly steadied yourself and forced a smile, one that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “What’re you doing here, old man?”

The snark was there, something Swansea didn’t notice he missed until it was gone. But it wasn't the same, it was like you were trying too hard to keep it up. Something you said, however, caught his attention.

“What?”

“Wh-what do you mean, ‘what’?” You laughed nervously.

“You thought what?” Swansea pressed, his brows furrowing and meaty hands placed on his hips.

“Nothing...”

“Yeah, right,” he scoffed, though he wasn’t supposed to poke around. Still, he had his suspicions: something was off. He needed to get it out of you. “‘Fraid I’m an alien out for blood, eh?”

Your eyes met, and he felt his heart squeeze. Your pleading look, the watery gloss in your eyes that signaled him of unshed tears, asking him something, begging. Your voice caught in your throat as you opened your mouth to speak. “I- Swansea, pleas--”

"Hey Swansea, Cap's lookin' for you." Suddenly, panic flashed back into you, and the mechanic could see that the man who entered just triggered the same fear from before. You quickly turned away, clutching the clipboard to your chest. "ASAP."

The old man eyed the co-pilot, wondering what the hell Curly needed so badly that he had to send his greasy bud over, normally the captain summoned Swansea himself. And what the hell was that reaction from you? "Heard ya the first time. Y/N! C'mon, grab your stuff, I need help.”

"Curly just needs yo-"

"He needs me, but I need me some help. If you've got a tantrum with that, speak up now." Swansea’s blood was boiling at the way Jimmy was eyeing you carefully, but the co-pilot's pressed in a thin line. "Nothin’ to say? Alright, we’re outta here."

The mechanic stomped off the room with you very quick and close behind him. Something was wrong. Very wrong.

On the way to the cockpit, you both met Daisuke with a suspiciously bulging Hawaiian shirt. The old man sighed; he swears the kid's going to get diabetes before Swansea would with his sweetener addiction. "Daisuke, bring Y/N to the kitchen and give her water. Don’t go to utility ‘til then."

"You got it boss!" The intern saluted, causing the sweetener to fall off his previous clutch while his poor attempt to catch it. For the first time in a while, Swansea saw you smile. Small, but still, a smile. "Come this way, m'lady."

The mechanic watched both of you retreat, and didn't even notice how his tense shoulders relaxed, at least you're safe… for now.

0 days before the crash

Your glossy eyes and desperate tone bugged the old man so much that his once unbothered and easy sleep was now avoiding him like a plague. You were about to say something before the roach entered. Swansea rubbed his face, frustrated.

You reminded him of his youngest daughter, back when she was your age: bouncy, full of life, and always full of questions. You were the same, so cheery, like the world had no weight and oxygen was your power source, keeping you charged up every day. Glowing that damn light of yours, infecting others with joy, even a gruff old man like him.

Swansea could only watch, helpless, as you slipped away.

The man stood up from his bed, he never realized how Daisuke's snores filled the whole quarters up. He trudged to the lounge area and he was surprised to see you, not to lounge, but quite the opposite.

Curled up on the floor, your knees pulled to your chest, rocking back and forth as you mumbled something to yourself. His brow furrowed in confusion, but what really caught him was how you were pressed against the LED wall, facing every possible exit, like you were preparing for something - anything - that might come.

The closer he got, the more he saw the tremors running through your body. His heart dropped, you were clutching a knife.

"Kid, you okay?" He winced, mentally scolding himself, you clearly weren't and even have a damn knife in your hand. Your head snapped to him. Uncertain of where to point the knife, you placed it between you. "Easy, alright, it's just me. Swansea, just me."

He looked at you, your face streaked with tears, sweat, and snot, everything a tangled mess, leaving your skin pale and raw. It was worse than the knife. You slowly lowered your hand, but the tears came faster now. Scrubbing at your already irritated face with your woolen sleeve, a large hand gently stopped you.

You flinched away from him, crawling backwards. Stumbling as if his touch was burning and it scalded your skin and dropping the knife. "Please, no, no-- don't hurt me-- please, please."

There you were at the corner, hands pushing down the sides of your head. Figure rocking back and forth, mumbling no's and stop’s, begging. And there he was, kneeling from where you once were, shocked, speechless and mortified at your state.

Something in his chest slowly bubbled, a steady warmth turned to a hot white rage. "Who did this to you?"

You were still a mumbling, sobbing mess, the LED moon shining its unforgiving brightness down on your pathetic frame. "I-I don't want to do this anymor-- i--"

His mind raced, piecing it together, the way you flinched when he opened the door, how you panicked at the sound of the co-pilot’s voice, how you avoided Jimmy. And then it hit him: the shift in Jimmy’s mood the same week you started pulling away. "That fucking bastard."

Swansea always harbored a deep-rooted belief: anyone who dared touch those he cared about, especially his young ones, deserved no mercy. It wasn’t just a philosophy; it was a vendetta shaped by a wound that never truly healed.

That wound reopened every time he thought of his Camie, his youngest, the one you reminded him of. She came home from college one winter, and something was... off. Her usual spark was gone. She barely spoke, quiet as a hill buried in snow. He didn’t press, thinking she just needed time.

But Christmas came, and out of nowhere, she broke down. Sobbing. Right there, in front of the whole family, on what was supposed to be a day of glee. Just like that, the holiday wasn’t about joy anymore. It was about pain. Hers. His. Everyone’s.

And it crushed him. He couldn’t stop blaming himself, for not being there when she needed him. He thought he paid up for it, sending her ex to the ICU for two weeks, but the pain his daughter went through will never be removed.

Years later, that same guilt came roaring back. This time louder, harder. He saw the same signs and once again, he regretted not pressing. He felt like he failed to protect his daughter all over again.

The mechanic didn't realize he left you, he didn't notice where he was heading. As if moving on autopilot, Swansea was now looking down on his barreling feet. He didn't even remember how the axe ended in his hands. But he knew one thing, the men's sleeping quarter was just around the corner.

Rounding up, he bumped into Curly, now standing straight and alert after meeting an axe-wielding Swansea, face full of murder. "What th-- What are you doing with an axe in the middle of the night?"

"Get outta way, let me see that piece of shit"

"Woah, woah, woah," The captain had his hands up, stopping the older man from proceeding any further. "Let's talk this out alright, just slo--"

"Jimmy! Come out you son of a bitch!"

That probably woke the whole ship up, but that was the least of his concerns. He's out for the co-pilot's head and not even his captain could stop him.

"Who the fuck's shouting this late!?"

"Ah, there you are." As soon as Jimmy stepped out of the quarters, the older man lunged at him, but Curly grabbed him just in time. Swansea cursed under his breath. "Come here and let me put your head on a chopping block, you mutt."

Footsteps shuffled in the dim hallway as Anya and Daisuke appeared, both disheveled. "Boss?" The intern was now snapping him out of his trance, his mind seemed to calm but the rage still pumped adrenaline in his veins. "What's happening?"

Anya lingered near the wall, her face pale, her arms crossed tightly over herself.

Curly’s grip on Swansea was firm as the mechanic fought to lunge at Jimmy. “Let me go!” Swansea snarled, his voice breaking with rage. “That bastard hurt her. And by God, if you don’t admit it right now.”

Jimmy, standing a few feet away, looked more defensive than calm. “Calm the fuck down, what are you even trying to accuse me of!?” His voice grew loud, frustration rising.

Swansea didn’t back down. “Don’t play innocent! You did something to the kid! You're going to pa--”

“Enough!” Curly barked, stepping between them. “You’re not laying a hand on anyone until we figure this out!”

"Figure what out?" Jimmy scoffed. "I didn’t touch Y/N. She’s probably just overworked. Hell, maybe she’s paranoid. You ever think of that?"

"Watch your mouth. She’s not paranoid, you bastard. She’s scared - no - she's fucking horrified."

“Stop…” A hoarse voice broke through as the hallway fell into a tense silence.

All heads turned to you, who stood in the doorway, clutching the frame like it was the only thing holding you up. Your tear-stricken face and shadowed form silenced the room.

“I’m fine,” you whispered, forcing a broken smile. “Please… just stop.”

Daisuke saw the opposite, your unsteady hands, weak knees, the way your eyes quickly averted from Jimmy.

Without a word, he stepped forward, placing an arm over your shoulders and positioning himself between you and the others like a shield. “Let’s get you out of here."

He flinched at how your body recoiled, but eventually, you broke down, collapsing into him, sobbing uncontrollably. Internally, it broke him, too. He had no idea what was going on, but he was sure of one thing: he'd always stand by his mentor over the co-pilot.

Curly’s jaw tightened. His eyes flicked from your fragile state and back to Swansea’s anguished glare. He glanced at Jimmy, who shifted, his arms crossed.

“She said she’s fine,” Jimmy muttered, his voice defensive, almost annoyed. “Why is this even a thing? Can we move on?”

“You—” Swansea’s voice broke, raw with fury. He took a step forward, axe raised.

“Swansea, stop.” Curly’s voice cracked like a whip, cutting through the rising chaos. But even as Swansea temporarily lowered the weapon, his knuckles were still white around the handle.

“Are you really just going to let this slide?” Swansea’s words were sharp, biting. “The damned kid's a walking dead at this point, Curly! Can't you see that or are you just blind?”

Swansea’s chest heaved but he stepped back. The heavy clang of the axe echoed as it hit the floor. “But what can I say,” he muttered, his voice thick with emotion. “Your bud's guilty but you're the cap right? Just let him run around like nothing happened.”

“Stop. Just stop. I’ll handle it,” Curly said, his voice barely above a whisper. “You two, to the lounge. Now.”

Daisuke stayed by your side, his hand steady on your shoulders and guiding you away from the mess. Anya lingered behind; her gaze on the floor and arms wrapped around herself. She raised her head and met Curly's gaze.

Curly’s stomach twisted, seeing the nurse's blaming stare. Anya shifted her eyes to you and Daisuke’s retreating forms. “I told you, captain.” After that stabbing sentence, the nurse followed the younger members out the suffocating hallway.

He’d seen it, hadn’t he? But he did not allow himself to process it, understand how serious it was. Because it was Jimmy. His co-pilot, his partner in every storm, his... friend. It couldn’t be him.

But now, looking at the man in question, so quick to deflect, so defensive in the face of Swansea’s rage, Curly felt the floor shift beneath him. His chest tightened. He’d believed Anya then, but he hadn’t acted, hoping time and caution would reveal the best course. What if his hesitation had been the mistake? What if waiting for clarity cost him, them, more murkiness?

As the three men stayed at the hallway, Curly looked at Jimmy’s avoiding gaze and Swansea’s held-back rage. For the first time, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he had failed them all.

The ship was still, but the tension was suffocating. The echoes of the fleeting chaos heavily clung to the air. Anya and Daisuke were in the medbay with Y/N.

With all the stress of Anya’s situation and the news from the corporate, he never noticed how Y/N slipped away from them. Not until it was too late anyway.

Swansea sat in the kitchen, his head bowed over a cup of cold coffee. Curly hesitated before sitting across from him, his hands pressed flat against the table.

"Where's the mutt?"

"I sent him to the quarters, have him cool off a bit. Makes us all have a mature and level-headed talk." The captain's hands were shaking, but he squeezed them together in a grip. "About the situation. Anya.. she--"

"Spit it out," Swansea muttered, not lifting his head.

Curly swallowed hard. "Anya told me. About what he did to her." His voice was barely above a whisper, but the words sliced through the quiet like a blade.

Swansea’s head snapped up, his eyes blazing. If the axe were to be in the mechanic's hands, Curly's head would have been split in half. "And you did nothing?"

"I believed her," Curly said quickly, his voice tight. "I just—I didn’t know what to do. Jimmy’s my friend, Swansea. And we’re all stuck on this ship, more than a hundred days away from the others, from the police. I thought... I thought I had time to figure it out."

Swansea let out a bitter laugh. "And while you were figuring it out, he went for Y/N." His hand squeezed the mug tightly. "She trusted us, Curly. But one spat and trampled on it, another turned a blind eye and--" Swansea's guilt caught up on his throat. "And the last ignored the signs."

Curly didn’t respond immediately, his gaze dropping to the table. "You think I don’t know that?" he whispered. "You think I haven’t replayed every word of what Anya told me? I wanted to keep the peace, and now..." His voice faltered, images of Y/N’s tear-streaked face flooding his mind.

The older man's voice was low, the pain in it, sharp. "She’s just a kid, Curly. We were supposed to protect her, but what were we doing? Being fucking robots for money-hungry tyrants who doesn't give a fuck for their dogs."

Curly exhaled shakily, dragging a hand down his face. "I failed her. I failed them both." He looked up, meeting Swansea’s hard gaze. "But I can’t fail again. Whatever happens next, I won’t hesitate this time. Jimm--"

Before Swansea could respond, the ship lurched violently. Alarms blared, and the lights flickered. What Curly didn’t know was that the words he’d just spoken were ones he would never have the chance to live by.

a/n: got a bit carried away. part 2? maybeee??

Update: part 2 out!

Part 2

[prozacpussyprincess]

Blushing, Crushing, and Totally F*cked! Part III

Summary: Reader finally gets totally f*cked! Final Part!!!

Part I: https://www.tumblr.com/piperlivingdeliberately/731031070307401728/blushing-crushing-and-totally-fcked?source=share

Part II: https://www.tumblr.com/piperlivingdeliberately/731124314601062400/blushing-crushing-and-totally-fcked-part-ii?source=share

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: SMUT 18+ MDNI! Awkward, giggly, wholesome sex because they’re both cute little losers, fingering (r! receiving), tit play (both receiving), oral (r! receiving), scissoring, top!hazel, swearing, mostly just cute fluffy first time sex!

“Fuck,” was all you could think to say to your reflection in the mirror as you stared at the deep purple hickey on your neck. “Fuck,” you repeated, remembering that you had to be at school in less than forty minutes. “FUCK!” you shouted once more, realizing that all of your friends would also be at school, and being the nosy freaks they are, they would not be stopped until they knew who had marked you up. 

Hazel. Oh, God, Hazel. Every time you touched the bruise, you swore you could still feel the ghost of her lips and teeth against your sensitive skin. You had fallen asleep so quickly the night before, exhausted from just a short makeout session. When you woke up, you had an internal debate about whether or not it had all been a dream. It was too good to be true, right? 

The purple that Hazel had painted on your neck said “wrong”. 

… 

Relief flooded you when you realized that Hazel was the first of your friends to arrive to Mr. G’s class. Her perky smile greeted you as you sat beside her. 

“Hi,” she said awkwardly, the greeting a bit late considering that she had already been staring at you for twenty seconds. 

“Hi,” you returned. Nervous laughter floated between the two of you. 

“So, I was thinking that you could come over tonight after school,” Hazel began, words stumbling out faster than she could properly form them. “I know it’s short notice so it’s cool if you want to go home first and get your stuff. Or it’s totally cool if you don’t want to come anymore! I would totally understand and not care–” 

“Hazel,” you cut her off. “I would be happy to come over tonight. I’ll need to run back to my house to get ready, but I’ll text you when I’m on my way. ” 

“Oh,” she exhaled, eyeing her own hands in her lap. “Great. Perfect.” 

With Hazel’s eyes on her lap, you finally looked away from her. Of course, just your luck, you were met with the wide-eyed stares of Josie and PJ standing above you. 

“Hey, guys,” you said flatly, waiting patiently for PJ’s flagrant comments to begin. 

“Hey to you two, as well,” Josie said formally. Her voice was almost squeaky, like a balloon trying not to let out too much air. 

“PJ, you’re awfully quiet this morning,” you prodded. It was true. You hadn’t even thought she would last a second seeing you and Hazel so blatantly ogling each other. 

“I have nothing to say this morning,” she retorted, jaw clenched in frustration or concentration, you weren’t sure. You flicked your eyes to Hazel, who had started to notice your friends’ obvious self-restraint. She held her ringed hand up to her mouth to hide her smile. 

“How strange,” Hazel joined in on the game. “It’s very, very rare that you have nothing to say, isn’t it PJ?” 

“I suppose,” PJ replied. 

“So you really have nothing on your mind?” you questioned her. “There’s really not a single thing that might be on the tip of your tongue?” You watched her eyes light up like a kid on Christmas when you moved your hair to the side, deliberately exposing your hickey. 

“Oh my fucking God!” PJ pointed at your neck. “I knew it! I fucking knew it! I told you, Josie!” 

Josie simply stared in silent admiration, allowing her best friend to make herself look like an idiot as she jumped up and down. “Yes, PJ. You did tell me. How could you ever have guessed?” Sarcasm coated her voice. 

“So, who’s the top?” PJ asked, and was thankfully cut off by the beginning of Mr. G’s lecture. 

You were nearly able to focus entirely on class until you felt Hazel’s breath as she whispered softly against your ear. “Did I give you that?” She jutted her chin out at your bruise. You almost laughed before you realized that she was genuinely asking. You simply nodded at her, unable to contain your smile when she flushed from her forehead to her neck. 

A sudden flash of bravery came over you as you watched her blush, so you leaned into her. “I wouldn’t want anyone else in the world to give me that.” She shivered at the whisper, eyes locked on yours from the moment you had said it to the moment the bell rang. You blew her a kiss–a painfully chaste gesture compared to your previous actions–and bounded out of the room as if nothing had happened. Hazel was dumbfounded and couldn’t stop staring at the door until PJ clapped her on the shoulder. 

“Good luck with that, champ,” she taunted, prompting Hazel to finally get up from her seat. “Tell us where you put the next hickey after tonight!” Hazel’s middle finger waved goodbye to PJ, because she couldn’t be bothered to think about doing anything else with her hands that didn’t involve you. 

… 

Despite her one-track mind earlier in the day, Hazel could do nothing with her hands but hold them awkwardly behind her back as she welcomed you into her home that night. 

“Hi, Haze,” you started, sensing her nerves. “Cute jammies,” you complimented the baggy blue and black flannel pajamas she wore. You framed it like a joke, but you were just trying to distract yourself from how sexy she looked in the black sports bra that scarcely covered her top half. 

“Shut up,” she laughed, clearly not sensing your thoughts. “You, on the other hand, actually do look cute.” She grew a bit bolder and placed her hand on the small of your back, fiddling with the hem of your bunny-print PJ pants. 

“Why are you acting so surprised that I look cute?” you feigned offense, clutching your hand to your chest. “Is it so shocking that I could look good?” 

“What?” Hazel nearly fell over her own feet. “You always look cute! You are quite literally the cutest, most beautiful person I’ve ever seen. I would never–” 

You cut off her rambling with a deep kiss. You hadn’t planned on making your move so early in the evening, but something about those compliments hit a deep spot inside you. “I was just kidding, Haze,” you whispered against her mouth, punctuating the sentence with another quick press to her lips. 

“I like it when you call me that,” she whispered back, pulling away to move a stray piece of hair out of your face. She began turning her head in all directions, taking in the foyer as if she hadn’t seen it thousands of times. “Holy shit. We didn’t even make it past the entryway.” You erupted into laughter, grasping her arms as you caught your breath. She took the opportunity to grab one of your hands and wordlessly led you to her room. 

Hazel closed the door behind her, turning around to see you facing her expectantly. She didn’t waste a second before grabbing your face and kissing you again, so impatient for you. Realizing she should have at least brought you to the bed first, she giggled as she gently pushed you in the right direction. She laid you down softly against her pillows before climbing on top of you. 

Every second that she stared into your eyes, you felt the butterflies in your stomach multiply. You pulled her in by the collar of her shirt, disappointed when she only offered you a short, closed-mouth kiss. Her deep blue eyes bore into yours once again, grinning almost mischievously before she dove into your neck. 

You moaned as her tongue flicked out against the hickey she had already created, whining when she created a friend for it on the other side of your neck. She trailed her kisses down lower until she reached the top of your camisole. 

“Can I?” she asked, breaths already growing heavy. You only nodded, not confident in your ability to speak properly at the moment. 

“Use your words for me,” Hazel said, her voice a low depth that you had never heard before. 

“Yes, Hazel,” you gasped. “Yes.” You were grateful that she didn’t taunt you for your desperation and instead just pulled your shirt down enough for her to kiss down to your nipple. She waved her tongue around the bud, circling it before taking it between her lips. The gentle sucking motions had you arching your back into her. She pressed her face into your cleavage as she made her way to your other tit. She played with the nipple that had just been in her mouth, pulling soft sounds from you as she rolled it between her fingers. 

“You sound so pretty, baby.” You moaned in response and began tugging your shirt over your head. Hazel jerked back in surprise. “Oh, getting impatient, huh?” she teased. You would have laughed, but you were too busy trying not to shrink under her penetrating gaze as she stared at your tits. It felt like minutes before she finally looked back at your eyes, asking, “Do you even know how fucking sexy you are?” Then you did laugh, covering your face with your hands. 

“Stop it.” You blushed behind the blanket of your palms. Your quiet giggles turned into a gasp when you felt Hazel pry your hands away from you. 

“I mean it.” You almost felt like she was scolding you. “You are so unbelievably perfect.” 

“Thank you.” You genuinely meant it, trying to convey your appreciation through your eyes. Feeling needy and nervous again, you distracted yourself by running your hands up and down her back. You eventually felt brave enough to begin pulling at her sports bra. She understood your silent command and removed it, her breasts hanging over your face tantalizingly. 

She must have finally understood how you felt in your earlier position, because she laughed shyly and fell into your shoulder so that you couldn’t stare. 

“Nope,” you said. “Come here, baby.” She climbed up your body further, red-faced and avoiding your gaze. She couldn’t help but look at you again after you took her left nipple into your mouth. 

“God,” she uttered in shock, rolling her hips into yours. You whimpered against her chest, urging her to gyrate even faster. “Fuck.” She pulled her tits away from your mouth, giggling at the pout that had formed on your face. “This okay?” she asked, her finger now playing with your waistband. Your pouty lip quickly transformed into a grin while you helped Hazel remove your shorts and panties. 

You felt yourself grow wetter with every kiss that Hazel placed on her journey down. When she finally reached the spot between your legs, she started planting kisses even lower, sucking into the plush flesh of your thighs. She looked up at you once more, silently confirming that she had your consent. 

“Please,” you whined, and she didn’t hesitate. 

Hazel licked a long, slow stripe from your slit to your clit, refusing to break eye contact as she watched you squirm. When she reached your most sensitive spot, she clamped her lips around it, flicking her tongue out to tease your clit. She reveled in your moans that grew louder with every lick. Every minute that passed, the coil in your stomach tightened more and more. You gasped out praises and shouts of her name when she began fucking you with her tongue. 

You almost dragged her back down by her hair when she emerged from between your thighs, grinning face covered in slick and spit. She hovered over you once more, but this time her finger danced around your entrance. 

“Let me know if it’s too much, okay?” she asked. 

“Mmhmm,” you sighed, pushing your hips downward to try to meet her in the middle. At the same time that she smashed her mouth against yours, she slipped one finger into your soaking pussy, gasping against your lips. 

“Fuck,” she groaned. “You’re so wet for me, baby.” She sat back a bit to watch her fingers as they disappeared inside of you. She was only released from the trance when you pulled her in by the back of her neck and forced your tongue into her mouth. 

The kiss was messy and sticky and tasted overwhelmingly of your own juices. You didn’t care about being reserved or self-conscious about your kissing skills when Hazel’s fingers were so perfectly curling into that spongy spot that made your back arch. You moved your hands from her hair to scratch red streaks down her back with her nails, only stopping when her guttural moan made you realize something. 

She had been grinding against the mattress searching for her own pleasure this whole time. 

“Hazel,” you called to her between kisses. She pressed her forehead to yours and waited for your request. “I want you.” 

“You already have me, beautiful.” She kissed your cheek softly. “I’m all yours.” 

“I want you on me, Haze.” Your pleads finally made sense to her and she began frantically undressing her lower half. She was completely naked on top of you in seconds. The skin-to-skin contact had you reeling for her. She hooked her right leg over your left, tentatively floating above you. Making sure she had your attention, she grabbed you by the chin, forcing you to meet her eyes as she sank herself onto you. 

You moaned in unison as she began grinding her wetness onto yours. You rose slightly, using her thigh to give you leverage to pull yourself against her. It took you a moment to find your rhythm with each other, but once you did, sounds of pleasure bounced around the room. 

That familiar feeling began to reach you again, and Hazel could tell from the way your moans transformed into whimpers and quiet whines of her name. 

“You’re doing so good, pretty girl,” she cooed as she stroked your breast. “So good for me.” 

“Holy– Haze, fuck!” You were so thankful that her mother was away, since you were shamelessly yelling at this point. “I’m so close, babe.” 

“You can do it, sweetheart,” she urged you on, speeding up her hips as she neared her own end. “Cum with me.” Not a minute passed before you were heeding Hazel’s gentle command, moans cut off by the waves of pleasure that coursed through you. Hazel brushed your hair out of your face, uttering praises and giving you a break before she continued to use your slick to ride out her own orgasm. The overstimulation didn’t last long, for Hazel had been close to finishing just from hearing you moan her name. 

Her hips stuttered on top of yours until she collapsed back onto the bed. Her body was folded in half, her legs outstretched awkwardly. 

“Comfy, Haze?” you joked, laughing as she shook her head and repositioned herself beside you. 

“Oh, my god.” She stared at the ceiling, then at you with wide eyes. “I just fucked you.” 

“That you did.” You giggled at her disbelief as you kissed her cheek. “And you did it very well.” 

The praise made her blush. She buried her glistening face in your neck, wrapping her arms around your still naked torso. 

“So,” she began, still hiding her face due to nerves. “Are you my girlfriend now?” 

“I better be after that,” you said. You laughed together for a minute before urging her to look at you. “I would love to be your girlfriend, Hazel Callahan.” 

And so you were. 

[cxffecoupx]

love languages: kwon soonyoung

kwon soonyoung x reader fluff warnings: mentions of food, soonyoung being down bad wc: 583 author's notes: decided to slowly finish off love languages for '96 line too, before i plan on changing themes. let's just hope i finish the other two too. not proofread. i hope you like it!

physical touch:-

the man is HUGE on physical touch. cannot survive without it. which is exactly why, from the second date onwards, he makes sure he's in constant contact with you, whether it be holding your hands, back hugging you, placing his hand on your shoulder, cupping your cheeks, patting your head... the list could go on endlessly. it makes him feel grounded when he's touching you, a silent assurance that you're both close if any need be, that you'll always be by his side. he makes sure you're comfortable with it though, and if you ever express that you're not a big fan of it, he makes sure not to make you feel at unease (but begs to at least let him hold hands).

"heyy!" soonyoung jogs up to where you stand in the park, shuffling up to you with his hands in the hoodie pockets and face half covered with his scarf. he smiles as he stops in front of you, removing his hands to cup your cold, red cheeks and press a smooch on your glossed lips. you smile back. you start waking side-by-side, your hand intertwined with his in his hoodie. he doesn't care if the cloth stretches, he just wants to warm you up.

cuteness aggression:-

while soonyoung himself might be unaware of the cuteness aggression he causes in people around him, especially you, he absolutely cannot stop gushing over how cute you are. even when it's while you're doing the most boring, meagre tasks, like washing dishes, for example, or when you're trying to eat the burger you ordered without the ingredients spilling. you could just breathe and he would be all over you, cooing at you, pulling your cheeks and giving you the heart eyes. the members were so giggly when they first saw this, but now they just sigh.

soonyoung stops mid-sentence to notice you weren't beside him anymore. he turns around and sees you following a cat around. "hey kitty kitty... hey kitty cat..." you're mumbling as you're desparately trying to pet the cat that just keeps walking away. when you dejectedly get up and return to him with a pout on your face, he pulls your cheeks and has to physically stop himself from squishing you.

gift giving:-

he loves to bring things to you. the catch is, it's not essentially things that you want, or wished for. nope. he brings you things that reminded him of you. he was walking to practice and sees a bunch of little white flowers swaying in the wind; when he gets home, he gives you a small bouquet of those flowers made by him. he was getting coffee with seungkwan and dino after recording and sees the macaroons displayed there, in the colours of the dress you wore when you first went out; that night, after dinner, you both have blueberry and vanilla flavoured macarons as dessert. you found it odd at first; he was almost like a puppy who brought home all these weird stuff. but slowly you realize that it's just how he shows you're on his mind all the time.

"what is this?" you ask as he opens a package in his hand to reveal a photo frame with candy canes decorating it. "i saw this and thought that we could put last years christmas picture in it to hang on the walls. it'll complete our photograph collection." he says as he points to the wall that is covered with similar unique frames.