#please do not let them know I I love these two so much because the love they have for each other is something I yearn for so bad

[lightseoul]

Hiii congrats on 2k! Can you please do no. 22 for this event. Love you💗

hello, nonnie! thank you so much for the greetings <3 and yes, of course! this was so fun to write lol it practically wrote itself. hope this one makes y'all laugh! and love you too 😚

(this is lightseoul’s 2k milestone event ft. bakugou katsuki! to play, view the numbered list of prompts here, then simply send an ask with your chosen number and i’ll whip something up!)

22. "ARE YOU SINGLE?" (1.3k)

none of this would’ve happened if shitty hair—the hulking brute of a gentleman he begrudgingly calls his best friend—didn’t notice.

they were just taking a short albeit much-needed water break at the tail end of the day-shift patrol, the unforgiving sun having pushed them to near dehydration (as it always does) as they guarded this rather quiet part of the city.

and to be fair, it’s not like he did it on purpose.

he was just briefly but thoroughly scanning the area, like a responsible pro-hero on duty would, when his eyes laid on you.

“what was that?” kirishima, who just downed an entire 500 mL liter of cold water they got from the convenience store a block away, suddenly pipes up from right beside him.

“what.”

when the redhead doesn’t say anything for a beat, bakugou chances a glance at him, only to find the man sporting a shit-eating grin.

bakugou feels himself bristle.

kirishima’s grin only widens. “you just did a double take at that girl.”

“what girl?” bakugou grits out, feigning ignorance.

but any plans he had to keep that charade up practically fly out the proverbial window when the damned hardening hero moves to unabashedly point in your direction, and before his mind can catch up, his body lunges forward to restrain the man’s arm.

the man in question laughs. “i knew it.”

bakugou only scowls at him before shoving him away, as if he wasn’t the one who threw himself onto the guy in panic. kirishima takes it in stride, though, used to years of his friend’s rough treatment, taking the opportunity to look at you instead.

“ooh, she is cute.”

“shut up.”

bakugou fights the urge to follow his friend’s line of vision, knowing all too well what’ll greet him at the end of it.

he admits his gaze might’ve lingered a beat too long, not that he’ll ever admit that to his patrol buddy.

no, he’s taking that secret with him to the grave.

“let’s go say hi.”

bakugou instantly looks up in alarm, but before he can lunge forward again and hold the stupid fucking man back, kirishima is already up and crossing the street, the traffic lights having conveniently turned green for pedestrians just a moment ago.

he pauses for a second, the urge to flee and hide from you before his best friend does something to embarrass him and the curious need to go do say hi raging a tug of war inside of him.

but if there’s one thing he knows for certain as a pro-hero, it’s that a second’s worth of hesitation can cause irrevocable damage.

and so with gritted teeth, he follows suit and crosses the street, and in just a few strides, he finds himself trailing slightly behind the redhead, who’s now merely several feet from where you’re standing, holding to your chest what seems to be a clipboard.

you notice kirishima first, probably having heard the heavy booted footsteps of the two men, turning on your heel at the sound. your eyes widen at the sight, before your face morphs into a look of recognition and… pleasant surprise?

“oh gosh—” you start, eyes annoyingly fixed on his best friend, “—red riot, hello!”

“heya, …” kirishima trails off, and you promptly supply him with your name.

his pr prince of a best friend beams at you. “nice to meet ya!”

and only then does his presence seem to register to you, because your gaze finally drifts to him, and your smile falters for just a millisecond before you school your features into a polite expression.

“hello, mr. dynamight, sir.”

he feels his eye twitch at the salutation, and he doesn’t have to look at the pro-hero beside him to know that the guy is watching the scene before him in mild amusement. he doesn’t know how else to respond if not to ask you why the fuck he’s being treated so formally while you regard shitty hair with subtle familiarity, so he settles with a grunt.

that seems enough to satisfy you, though, because you swiftly turn back to kirishima. “my best friend is a huge fan of yours, by the way.”

and as kirishima readily accepts the compliment and thanks you, bakugou finds his mind singlehandedly honing on what you just said.

your best friend is a huge fan of kirishima, not you.

also, that means your best friend is a fan of his best friend.

and if the four of you were to pair up, perhaps on a double date…

bakugou shakes his head at the thought, and perhaps too aggressively, because he catches both of your attention, the two of you glancing at him with worry.

“you okay, bakubro?”

he steals a glance in your direction, which he instantaneously regrets, because he makes eye contact with you. he immediately averts his gaze, choosing to face the guy instead.

“‘m fine.”

kirishima hesitates. “you sure?”

bakugou only tosses him a glare.

“i’m gonna take that as a yes,” kirishima shoots back, before returning the smile on his face and shifting to regard you. “anyway, we were just taking a short break from patrol and wanted to check in. everything alright here?”

that apparently is enough to make you light up. bakugou’s gut churns in what is absolutely not jealousy.

“yeah, thanks!” you reply, gratitude bleeding into your tone. “i was just—” you trail off, eyes shifting down to that clipboard you’ve been clutching this entire time, before: “you know what, do you guys have a minute?”

“sure!”

“no.”

kirishima whips to look at him. “come on, bakubro! let’s help the citizens out, yeah?”

and bakugou doesn’t know why or how, but his mouth runs off before his brain or heart can dictate to him what to say.

“yeah,” he mutters, “for all i know, this is just a fucking pyramid scheme.”

instantly, the air around the three of you goes quiet.

that is, until kirishima pipes up. “he’s just joki—”

“thanks, red riot—” you cut him off, much to bakugou’s surprise, his eyes shooting up to look at you whose lips are now pulled into a tight line.

“—but i think only dynamight here fits my research’s inclusion criteria.”

your what?

and before he could even comprehend the last three words you just uttered, you bring up your clipboard and pen like you’re about to jot something down, and hit him with it.

“are you single?”

bakugou only gawks at you, too stunned to speak. although he apparently doesn’t have to, because you continue.

“are you?” you repeat, before laughing dryly. “of course you are, what with that fucking attitude…”

at that, kirishima instantly barks out a genuine laugh, his booming voice reverberating throughout the street, even startling the cat perched on top of those large garbage disposals.

bakugou, on the other hand, only gapes at you in horror, because who would’ve thought the pretty girl from across the street was a fucking rude ass potty mouth?

a fucking rude ass potty mouth who could clock him like that?

“does he tend to go speechless like this?” you ask kirishima a few moments later, who’s still shaking in suppressed laughter.

“no,” the pro-hero finally replies after catching his breath. “you’re the first one i’ve ever seen make him this way.”

“really?” you reply, voice low and laced with sarcastic disbelief.

“he is actually single, though,” kirishima quickly adds, much to his chagrin. “…if you’re interested.”

as if on cue, you finally turn to look at bakugou, and he—swear to god—feels his heart stop when you glance at him, something akin to curiosity hidden amidst your features.

but he doesn’t get to bask in it, though, or in its implications, because his dipshit of a best friend drawls on.

“if you are, though, that’s great—”

oh, don’t make him do it.

“—because he finds you very much attra—”

BAM!

[magics-neptunes-things]

You Belong With Me

Hi guys!

I'm finally working on my WIP's. This is a request I received a long time ago, I'm so sorry for the wait. You can find it here.

Please enjoy ♥

TW : Alcohol

When Alessia moved to Arsenal, you were happy because you always found her very talented. You saw her playing during the World Cup and with you already playing for Arsenal, you had to play against her several times.

You love her play, and she seems really sweet, which is not a bad thing. You remember being with Leah in the medical centre when Alessia came to sign her contract. The other blond introduced both of you and since then you are inseparable.

You do all your drills together, you sometimes come together for training, and you sit almost always next to each other on the coach when you are travelling in the country for games.

This summer you even went to Ibiza together, even if there were more pictures of Alessia and Toone, you were there too. And you really had a blast there, enjoying every single day. You come even closer to Alessia, and you have to control yourself to keep your gesture friendly.

You are separated during the national breaks though. For this one you go back to your country, or wherever the camp is, while Alessia stays in England with her national teammates.

This is during the last camp that you realize how much you were fucked up. You missed Alessia every single second of the camp, wanting to hear her voice and talk to her all day long. You missed her smile, you missed her touch, you missed her perfume and even the way her hair whips your face during some exercises in training.

You messaged each other from time to time, but not every day. Sometimes Alessia took a long time to answer your messages and you hated the way your stomach makes you feel sick during this time. You don’t want to be a burden for her obviously, she’s your friend and she doesn’t see you like that.

So, after your return to London, you decide to be more distant with Alessia, for your mental health. Plus, the blonde has a lot of other friends on the team, so she won’t have any problems finding someone else.

You are late the first time you have to take the coach to go to Manchester and play your first game back. So, it’s not a problem to sit in front of Katie and Caitlin while Alessia is next to Kyra, several rows behind.

And since that move, you become more and more distant with her. You take more time to answer her messages, you avoid going to the team bonding and you always have something to do when Alessia proposes to drive you to training.

You see Alessia frowning from time to time, but like you were thinking, some of your teammates seem eager to spend time with her. It’s more difficult for you to find someone to do your drills with. Sometimes it’s Laia, sometimes it’s Steph. You have a great time with them, but it has nothing to do with doing it with Alessia.

You were really thinking that those changes aren’t bothering Alessia. But to be honest, it’s not exactly working on stopping your crush on her.

You have to fight the need to look at you every time you can, your eyes are attracted to her like two magnets.

The fact that you find her more beautiful every day probably doesn’t help either. But now you aren’t even crossing her eyes. When she starts to turn her eyes to look in your direction, you are already doing something else.

From friends you are now strangers and even if it breaks your heart, you know it’s for the better. If you confessed your feelings to Alessia, you would have lost her anyway. Like this, at least she won’t feel strange because of you.

“What’s the matter between you and Lessi?” Leah asks you while you are doing some drills.

For once, Lia chooses to partner with Mariona, letting Leah make them with you. You wait to send her the ball back before answering.

“What do you mean?” you ask with a poker face.

Leah sends you the ball back, not looking at you in the process. You like it that way, it doesn’t give you the impression of being grilled by her. You wonder if Alessia sends her to you, or if this is just a Captain’s duty.

“You were both so close and now it looks like you don’t even talk. Did something happen between you?”

“No” you shake your head. “We just… grow apart, I don’t know. It happens to people sometimes, just like Katie and you. You aren’t as close as you were some years ago”

It’s a poker move that you are making, to be honest. Sure, Leah and Katie aren’t close like before, but they are still friends. They are still talking, joking around and laughing together. Which you aren’t doing anymore with Alessia.

This time Leah looks at you with scepticism. You can see in her eyes that she doesn’t believe you at all. Just like if she knows how you would have killed just to have a hug from Alessia.

“If you say so” she finally says.

She doesn’t believe you, but at least she doesn’t push the subject. You are glad for it. You haven’t talked to anyone about your feelings for Alessia and why you made the decision to avoid her suddenly.

You finish your drills in silence, probably both lost in your thoughts. It’s only when you are finished and going back to the group that Leah talks again.  

“You know that you can talk to me about anything, yeah?”

You raise your head in Leah’s direction, and you feel your face softening a little. She seems really concerned about you. It makes you warm inside.

“Thank you” you smile.

“Anytime”

She gives you a side hug which you answer, passing both of your arms around her waist. You appreciate the girl, not in the way you appreciate Alessia. But under her stern glare, Leah is really a big softie.

Leah passes her arm around your shoulders and drags you near the team who is having a drink pause. It’s at this moment that you cross Alessia’s blue eyes. She gives you a tentative smile, which you answer with an uneasy one before hurrying to take a bottle of water.

Later that day, you were getting out of the showers, sure that no one was still here. You went to the medical team for a little strange feeling in your tight. It was nothing but you still had a massage before going to the shower. Only Steph and Beth were still there, and they told you goodbye when you entered the shower.

You took a long and hot shower, waiting for every part of your body to be really relaxed. It took time but you finally managed it.

No one was waiting for you at home, so you take your time to get dressed and prepare yourself. You were grabbing your bag when the door opens, and you froze when you see who is entering the locker room.

Alessia.

She seems surprised to see you here too and stays still for some seconds before opening her mouth.

“Oh, I thought you were already home” she says softly.

“I’m going now” you answer, passing next to her to reach the exit.

“Wait”

Alessia grabs your arm, and you froze once again. Alessia releases you very quickly, taking your frozen state for discomfort. She doesn’t realise that your stillness is because of the warm feeling that this simple touch makes you feel.

“Sorry” she mumbles, looking at her feet. “I was wondering… Is everything fine? We don’t talk like we used to”

You bite your lips softly before answering. She seems really touched by the situation and you feel your heart break a little more. But you shake yourself mentally. It’s for the better like this.

“Yeah, everything is fine” you smile. “Look I have to go; I have a meeting with my agent. See you tomorrow?”

“Are you coming to Beth’s?”

Beth is organising a team bonding tomorrow night, and you said you were going before Alessia answered. A mistake you usually aren’t making but you were unfocused while answering the invitation.

“Yes”

“Cool” Alessia smiles awkwardly.

You smile back before going out of here. Your cheeks are so red that it could have been used as decoration for an Arsenal video.

Coming here was a bad idea, you knew it. You almost wrote to Beth ten times to say that you weren’t coming, but you are still here, sandwiched on a couch between Laia and Mariona. Both girls were yapping in Spanish, Mariona’s hand somewhere on Lia’s knee. You were happy to be seated here though, at least you don’t need to talk or anything.

You saw Alessia looking at you several times, but she looked away every time you were looking back. Maybe your plan is starting to work, you thought with relief. Alessia talked almost all night with Lotte and Emily, far away from you. You can’t help but feel a little jealous though, hearing her laugh resonate in the room from time to time. But you shouldn’t feel that way.

She wrote to you yesterday and you ignored her text once again. You feel bad about it, but you don’t have the choice.

You may have drunk a little too much cider that Lia brought back from her training camps in France. Your teammates swear that it wasn’t with alcohol, but when you look at the bottle it’s said it in fact does have alcohol. Only a little but for those like you who aren't drinking alcohol at all, you don’t need a lot of it to feel your head start spinning.

You were looking at Myle sleeping when you hear a part of the conversation between Alessia, Emily and Lotte. You wish you wouldn’t have.

“So, how was the date Emily arranged you?” Lotte asks Alessia.

You feel your jaw contracting, without being able to really control your muscles. You stand up, mumbling something about the bathroom to Laia who looks at you with concern before getting out of the living room. You actually go to the bathroom, locking the door behind you before splashing cold water on your face.

Who did you think you could convince? In all your stupidity, you didn’t think for one second that Alessia could look for someone else. Of course she will, and you know that she probably has thousands of people waiting for her. She’s perfect and you are lousy.

You jump when you hear someone knocking at the door.

“Y/N? Are you okay?”

You are relieved to hear Lia’s voice and not Alessia’s. You take a deep breath before answering, you want to be sure that your voice will be okay.

“I’m fine. Just freshening up a little”

You close the tap and take another big breath before going out. Thank god your eyes aren’t red, and your cheeks aren’t flushed. Otherwise, you would have been screwed.

“Are you sure that you’re okay?” Lia asks after having looked at you with a perfect arched eyebrow.

“I think I’ve been sick of the cider. It’s maybe better if I go home. Can you tell Beth? I don’t want the others to make fun of me”

You see her hesitate some seconds before answering.

“Don’t you want someone to take you home?”

“Nah, I’ll be fine” you shrug.

“Y/N.”

Lia grabs your hand, and you look at her, like a child is looking at his mother before being scolded. Lia just used what Kyra calls her “Mom’s voice”, but you got the feeling perfectly well right now.

“Don’t you dare driving, am I clear?”

“I won’t Lia, I swear” you smile softly. “I’m just going to walk home, and I will come back to take my car tomorrow. Really, don’t worry I’ll be fine, okay?”

You don’t really know if you will be fine, but you find your tentative lie pretty good actually. Lia seems to believe it anyway, not suspecting for a second that you probably will go home to cry in your bed. And pretend a hangover to stay at home for the next 24 hours.

Lia finally nods and says goodbye, letting you go to grab your jacket and your shoes. It’s only when you close the door behind you that you realise that no one saw that it started to rain. Which isn’t surprising because you literally live in London. But you still don’t have an umbrella or anything to hide under.

You sigh and start to walk. You aren’t leaving far away from Beth’s house, it’s only a ten minutes’ walk. Hiding your hands in your pocket, you cross the road and hurry a little bit. The fresh air is great for you, even if it probably would have been better without the rain.

“Y/N!”

You would have recognized that voice between every voice in the world. Even if she’s running and your ears are full of the noise of the rain.

When you turn in her direction, Alessia is crossing the street too, without a coat or a jacket or anything else other than her jumper.

“What are you doing here? Do you want to die from pneumonia?” you ask, your concern making you forget that you are supposed to ignore her.

“I just… I need to understand”

Alessia is looking at you, her beautiful eyes scanning your face and your eyes. But you don’t hold her gaze, preferring to look somewhere behind the street.

“No! Stop not looking at me!”

That sentence has the good point of surprising you enough to make you look at her. The rain sticks her long blond hair to her face, and you must take it on yourself not to clear that said beautiful face.

“You need to tell me what the matter is! I can’t remember when you stopped hugging me to say hello and I don’t understand why you are suddenly ghosting me. What is happening? What did I do?”

There is no escape for you now. You still can pretend that she’s imagining things and answer her like you said to Leah some days before. People just grow apart at some point. It’s sad, but it’s life. But you know that Alessia won’t believe that.

“You did nothing, Lessi. It’s just complicated” you sigh, passing a hand on your face.

“Then talk to me! Together we can work on it!”

“It doesn’t matter” you try to avoid the subject, walking away from a few steps.

But Alessia doesn’t seem to hear like this. She hurries to close the distance between you again, grabbing your arm once again. Her fingers are cold like ice on your skin, making you shiver. She must be freezing.

“It does matter, Y/N, fuck!”

You look at her with wide eyes. It’s maybe the first time you hear Alessia swearing outside of a football pitch. She looks genuinely upset. Seeing her like this isn’t easy for you, you could give your life for her. You never wanted to see her sad.  

“We were closer than anyone and now you act as if it never mattered to you. You said I did nothing, so what is it? Are you in trouble? Did you meet someone who is too jealous for you to hang on with me?”

You roll your eyes, suddenly annoyed when you remember that she went on a date with someone else several days ago.

“I’m not the one trying to date someone else” you grumble.

It takes Alessia by surprise. The blonde doesn’t seem to know what to answer to that, before finally opening her mouth.

“How does it even have a point with any of this?”

“I…”

“Y/N please…”

You groan, passing both hands on your face. Everything is so complicated and Alessia will definitely catch at least a cold or something. But she keeps pressing you and between the cold, the cider and all the feelings you have for this girl, you can’t contain yourself anymore.

“I like you, okay?” you finally almost shout in the middle of the street. “And not like you like a friend likes you, I like you. I’m the girl who fell in love with her straight beautiful best friend. I tried to fight against it, but I can’t, Alessia.”

You take a big breath, looking at Alessia’s drenched face. How is she still so attractive under the rain? It’s unbelievable.  She’s silent for now, looking at you with wide eyes and her mouth a little agape.

“You’re just so perfect and I didn’t want you to hate me, so I thought that if I drift apart from you, it will be better. But it’s not working at all. I can’t forget you and now you’re here looking at me and all I want to do is kiss you.”

You finally remember to breathe again and it takes some time for Alessia to finally talk again.

“You… You like me?” she finally manages to say, stuttering a little.

“Yes, I do” you sigh.

You wanted to add that now you really need to go inside and ask Beth if they can borrow some clothes. Alessia would probably need the ones from Viv, because there is no way that she can fit in something belonging to Beth.

But suddenly Alessia is grabbing your face with both of her hands, tilting it just a little to be in the right direction and then… Then she kisses you. Her lips are on yours and your brain is short-circuiting. You need several seconds before answering her kiss, finally processing that it’s really happening.

When she feels you kissing her back, Alessia lets go of your face with one of her hands to grab your neck and deepen the kiss. During this time, your arms went around her neck, keeping her close.

You don’t know for now what is happening in her head, maybe it’s just a one-time thing. So, you better remember every single second of it.

Alessia’s body is cold against yours, but the taste and the softness of her lips are amazing. Even better than what you imagined.

When the kiss ends, she presses her forehead against yours and your eyes automatically go for her lips.

“Less, let’s go home. Your lips are blue” you whisper.

You take her hand and pull a little on it for her to follow you. Which she finally does, following you under the rain. Your house is closer than hers, so you don’t hesitate before taking her here.

You wipe the puddles of water on your wooden floors while Alessia takes a hot shower, and she makes tea while you take yours. The effect of the alcohol seems to have been forgotten thanks to your talk with Alessia. Or maybe it’s the kiss.

It is definitely the kiss.

When you come back in the living room, wearing your pyjamas short and an old jersey from your national country, Alessia smiles shyly at you. She was looking at the steam from the mugs on the coffee table in front of her.

“We probably need to talk” the blonde says softly, when you are seated next to her on the couch.

“Yeah” you breathe, looking at the mug between your hands. “Look, if you want to forget about that kiss…”

“No, I don’t want to! Y/N you need to… Give me that” she cuts herself.

She takes the mug from your hand to put it back on the table, next to hers. You turn a surprised gaze on her when she grabs your hands, taking them between hers. Her hands are way hotter than before, really pleasant on your skin.

“You need to stop pretending I don’t like you back. I do like you. Maybe I realised it very late, but I do.”

You blink your eyes as you look at her, shocked. You didn’t expect this to be quite honest. You had time to prepare yourself for many eventualities during your shower and the one where Alessia announces that she got carried away a little is the one you thought the most plausible. Alessia is romantic. Which romantic people would refuse a kiss in the rain?

“I thought we were just friends, but when you stopped talking to me, it made me realise that there was more. I missed you, every single second. It was hard but it made me realise that I never really had friendly feelings for you.”

You were looking at her intensively, not missing a single word or a single facial expression. It seems too good to be true.

“But… You are straight” you frown.

“Haven’t you seen the TikTok trend “Gay for her” ?” she rolls her eyes.

You roll your eyes too but look at her again when she squeezes your hands. You love the feeling of her skin against yours.

“What if we try and it doesn’t work? I don’t want to lose you” you whisper.

“What if it does work? We can go at the pace we want, how we want. We don’t owe anything to anyone.”

It seems so easy saying like that. You finally address her a small smile, which she returns without any hesitation.

“I never thought you would reciprocate my feelings” you admit. “I think I will need time to deal with that information.”

Alessia laughs and you can’t hide your smile. You love seeing her happy and the way her eyes are sparkling make you understand that she is right now.

“We have all the time” she promises.

You are always smiling when you raise your hand to slowly stroke her face with your fingertips. Her lips aren’t blue anymore and her cheeks are even a little pink. She’s so beautiful.

“Can I kiss you again?” you ask with a soft smile.

Alessia smirks.

“You don’t need to ask for that.”

[hello-sweetheart]

You know that trope where Person A thinks Person B is just being nice but they’re actually flirting. What about the opposite? Person A misreading their behavior and being the only one falling impossibly in love.

Clumsy in Love Part 3

Adiel had already gone to bed by the time he heard frantic knocking at his door. He stumbled through his apartment hazy with sleep, a hand stretched out to guide him through the dark until he reached his living room. The lights were blinding to his eyes.

“Adiel?” Came the muffled voice through the through the door. “Can…can I come in please?”

Dread washed over him quick and ugly, churning his stomach as his shaking hands unlatched the locks. Had something happen? Was Eddie hurt? Or—

He hesitated to unlock the last latch. Was Eddie drunk? No, he shook his head. Eddie doesn’t… he doesn’t drink, not like that. He doesn’t get…like that. Not like his ex.

“Adiel?” It was softer now, and he finally opened the door.

“Eddie?”

His voice was still rough from his abrupt wakening, but he looked over quickly checking for anything really. When he couldn’t find anything, his shoulders finally loosened.

“Hey,” Eddie smiled a little crooked and forced, “I’m sorry for waking you.”

“It’s cool. Come inside, are you okay? It’s,” a brief glance at his digital watch, “it’s two in the morning, Eddie.”

They shuffled inside and Adiel locked the door behind him. Guiding Eddie to the kitchen as he flicked on a couple more lights.

“I know, I know. I’ve just been,” he gestured vaguely and his rings caught the warm tones of the lights, “driving around. For a while. Uh, my heads just been a mess today and I…”

“And?”

Adiel encouraged him softly.

Eddie, always so unapologetically himself and taking up space in any room he’s in, looks unsure. He looks away, eyes a bit hooded from exhaustion, he thinks. Sadness, maybe.

He has to guide Eddie’s hand away from where he’s begun to wear down his thumb nail again. A habit that he sure Eddie’s picked up from him.

“And, I wanted to see you.”

His heart might actually sore inside him.

“Well,” he offers a cheeky grin and spins on his toes until he’s facing him again, “you have me.”

“Yeah, I have you.” The words carry weight to them. Adiel’s cheeks flush with warmth.

“You do. Come, let’s go put you bed. You don’t have to say anything until you’re ready.”

Having Eddie is his bed always feels like the world to him. It’s one of the only moments when his mind is able to still, thoughts silent. All his worries are gone when he has Eddie in his arms.

It not just when they’re being intimate (‘canoodling’, he says because he likes to make Ed groan), it’s about having him in his space and still feeling safe. Safer, even. And it’s unlike anything he’s been able to feel in his past relationships.

Safe. Being open and vulnerable and still falling asleep next to someone. Eddie coming here at night, because he feels safe enough to be vulnerable, too.

Adiel always falls too fast and too hard, but he just feels so much. Too much. And they only had a couple months together now, but he can feel himself falling. Not there yet. But he could, soon. It’s as if he’s bracing for the impact of it all.

“You’re still awake.”

“I need to tell you something. I can’t sleep until I do.”

Adiel hums.

“Earlier today, or, yesterday I guess. I was at Steve’s house and… he kissed me.”

The night is so silent, even in the city.

“Did, did you want to kiss him?”

“He kissed me. He surprised me and…I didn’t kiss him back. I wouldn’t do that to you, Adiel.”

He gathers Eddie in his arms, his chest against Eddie’s back, and burrows deep into the nape of his neck.

“I know, baby. I’m sorry that he kissed you.”

“He’s my friend. An unlikely one, but one of the best that I have. I don’t want to lose that. I can’t. I, I owe him my life.”

“No.”

“I do. I’m only here because of—“

“I know what he did for you and I’m so grateful you’re still here, Eddie. I don’t want to imagine a world with you. But if he’s as good as a friend as you’ve said he is, then he wouldn’t want you to feel like you owe him anything.”

“You’re right. I don’t mean it that way. Just that… he’s important to me. And I don’t want to let it go.”

“Give him time then, and space. He’ll need it right now and you’ll have to respect his boundaries.” Like he didn’t respect ours. He nuzzles deeper and breathes in his scent it’s thick with sandalwood.

“I feel like it’s my fault that he feels this way.”

“Can’t make anyone feel anything they don’t want to.”

“When did you get so wise?” He laughs.

“Hush, baby. We both need some sleep.”

“You’re the best among men, Adiel. Goo’night.”

“Night, Ed.”

He’s burning with jealousy, but he can keep it tucked away. Steve means something to him. And that’s what he’s afraid of right now.

He tightens his arms around Eddie, being selfish with his warmth.

I just found you, he kisses his shoulder, I can’t lose you.

———

Something changes after that night. It’s not noticeable right away, his friends don’t notice, but Adiel does. He notices everything about Eddie, even the finer details.

He doesn’t mention Steve anymore, at least not to him. And Adiel doesn’t know if this is a good thing or not.

He didn’t notice how much Eddie talked about Steve until he stopped.

He has these moments in between their kisses and conversations where he… gets lost, for a lack of a better word. His eyes carry this far away look and Adiel know he’s not here with him.

He kisses him back to him until his eyes are alight again and smiling enough to show off his one crooked canine.

When will his kisses stop being enough? Will Eddie simply float away from him, like a cherished red balloon escaping the grasp of a small child, only able to watch it go.

He tries to hold onto him tighter. His hand interlocked with his, squeezing and rubbing his thumb on Eddie’s knuckles just to make sure he doesn’t float away.

He doesn’t want to hold too tight that he suffocates him, but he can’t help it.

I can’t lose you, I…

There are many things he loves about Eddie that he can list off, but the one this that makes him different is how he doesn’t care about Adiel’s strangeness.

His timid demeanor that he never grew out of. His constant need to be reassured. His laugh, more of giggle that gets him strange looks. His restless fingers and chewed, painted nails down to a stump.

All things he’s been called effeminate for.

Targeted, pushed aside, excluded…

Eddie takes all these traits and kisses them one by one. Nurturing them. Loving them. Seeking them.

Eddie makes him feel like man, instead of questioning his masculinity. He’s even painted his nails for him and didn’t bat an eye when he asked for baby purple instead of the assumed black.

“Baby, do you mean lavender?”

“Oh my god, shut up! If it’s called baby pink why can’t it be called baby purple. Stop laughing!”

Eddie makes him feel like it’s all okay. That he’s okay.

And everything, everything will be okay, too.

Until it wasn’t.

———

Eddie didn’t stop making him feel loved or cared for, but it felt different than from before that night. Today has feeling to it. Like the end.

He keeps stalling against the inevitable.

“Adiel—“

“Let’s watch movie? You can sleep here again and I’ll make breakfast for dinner,” because Eddie doesn’t like savory foods after dark, “I have a couple new tapes to choose from—“

“Baby.”

Baby purple.

No, no, no. His hands are shaking again.

“You know, don’t you? That it’s the end for us?Adiel, I wish we could’ve been different,” He holds his shaking hands and Adiel focuses on them instead of meeting his eyes. It’s been a long time coming, doesn’t mean he feels prepared.

“Have you been… seeing him?” It’s the first time since that night that they’ve talked about Steve. His hands are squeezed tight.

“No! God, I would never go behind your back. I haven’t talked to him since then, I promise. I’ve been giving him space, trying to let him come around on his own time, but…”

“But you miss him.”

His world is falling apart.

“Have you been in love with him this whole time? That day in the music store, did you like him then too?”

“No. Maybe? I, I really don’t know. I don’t think I ever saw him that way. I didn’t even consider it a possibility until he—“

“Yeah, until he fucking kissed you!” He pulls his hands away and doesn’t miss the fact that Eddie didn’t try to hold onto them.

“Until he kissed me.”

Why must it hurt this much?

It always hurts so much.

His body is shaking but he avoids any attempts of Eddie trying to comfort him. Can’t bear the way he looks at him scared and careful like he’s trying to calm a wild animal.

Everything was perfect.

They could’ve been perfect,

If it hadn’t been for one fucking kiss from some guy that can’t stay out of people’s relationships.

“He’s stealing you away and you’re letting him!”

“He’s not stealing me, Adiel! You can’t steal people away like that, they have to be willing to go.”

“Willing to leave me?”

“I’m sorry.”

“I love you, Eddie.” It’s a dirty trick to say it here and now, but it doesn’t make it any less true. Adiel needs to say it. Needs Eddie to know.

Some sick part of him enjoys the hurt look that crosses Eddie’s face, but it’s not close to feeling vindicated.

“I fucking love you, Ed.” He whispers it this time.

“I… I loved you, Adiel. Wish I could’ve loved you longer.”

“It’s been months since he kissed you. He might not even like you that way anymore.” Might not love you the way I can. “I don’t understand, how can you throw away everything for a maybe?”

“It wouldn’t be fair for any of us if I stayed. I know I’ve been absent minded, know that you could tell that I didn’t have my all in us anymore. You deserve someone who doesn’t make feel that way. Adiel. I don’t have any right to ask, but can you you try to understand—“

“Then don’t ask! You shouldn’t! I don’t want to hear about what you think that I deserve. Just, just leave. Please.”

“…Will you be okay?”

“No, but I’ll have to be. Go, Eddie, I’m not yours to worry over anymore.”

He doesn’t know how long he stays on the kitchen floor. His head hurts, his heart feels empty. His nose won’t stop running no matter how many times he wipes away the snot with his sleeve.

He must look like a mess. Look unattractive.

Adiel feels unattractive.

He didn’t even notice the sound of someone unlocking the door and step in until familiar arms are around him. He’s engulfed immediately in warmth and the scent of coconut. Vanilla.

A humorless laugh escapes him, Eddie must have called her.

“I love him, Tiff. There’s something wrong with me.”

“Oh babe, no. No. Nothing is wrong with you.” She rocks him in her arms, tucking him into her neck. Her signature afro puffs tickle his nose. The same hairstyle she’s kept since they were kids.

“Just haven’t met the one right?”

“You’ll find them, babe. You still have us. You still have me. Now and until the next life.”

“‘Til the next life, Tiff.” A pinky promise as old as time.

He curls further into her and not for the first time he wishes that they were straight. That they could feel that way about each other.

Life would have been so much easier.

They would have had much less heartbreaks, and maybe, he wouldn’t have been so broken.

Part 2 < 💛 > Part 4

[endearng]

Special guest

Pairing: Spencer Reid x single mom!reader Summary: Olivia's birthday is coming up. She has a special guest in mind. WC: 1.7k Warnings: mentions of absent fathers (sorry); reader is borderline paranoid about letting her kid down; they are pining hard - Spencer looks at reader not so respectfully. Please, let me know if I missed anything. A/N: I try my best to not describe the reader so that everyone feels included, but I feel like I should work better on that. If you have any advice on it, I'd be very thankful to hear it! Second fic in less than 24h, ohmy. This is a second part to 'Stranger danger' Feedbacks are highly welcomed and appreciated. <3 Masterlist

A few weeks had passed after the incident with the power in your building. Since then, you saw Spencer sometimes and he always greeted you politely. Olivia once told you that she liked him so much because he was a nice ghost — he told her stories about the books he read and she absolutely loved them, going to the point of asking if she could borrow them once he had finished reading.

Little did she know, she would never have to wait long.

Their interactions always made you speechless. How was your 5-year-old daughter better than you at starting conversations? You could barely look him in the eye, despite the fact that he always made sure to flash you the brightest smiles. You reciprocated, but then Olivia always had something to say: about his funny clothes, about the book she was reading for school, about your moments together — you had a scheduled commitment every Friday, to take Olivia to wherever she wanted to go. She was very observant, and, just like you, had the habit of taking mental notes of the beautiful places you saw during your walks. That's how she knew where the public library was and knew the best coffee in town — she demanded having the same beverage as you, but you told the barista secretly to make it decaf.

As you both put on your shoes in the morning to leave the apartment, you said, "Oli, your birthday is coming up. Do you want to do anything with mommy?"

"I want a birthday party."

That made you freeze in your tracks for a moment. You've been avoiding throwing birthday parties for two years now, because Olivia's day always ended with a tinge of heartbreak by the absence of her father, who had decided to leave the both of you and move overseas to, maybe, start over. It hurt you to try to comfort her with something you didn't have control of, but you did it anyway because you'd rather hurt yourself than let your baby go through that kind of disappointment alone. You didn't really know what he was up to, and honestly, you didn't want to, either. You were doing just fine without him, but she was his daughter and still a child, so you knew she still missed him.

Your hands were shaking slightly as you tied her shoelaces. "Bunny ears, remember?" You asked softly, showing her how to do it: you always did it in the mornings, but you made sure to teach her in case they undid during her day at school. She nodded at you, flashing a little toothless smile. "Okay, baby, we'll do that," you smiled, trying to ease off the tension.

"I want invitation cards. Like the ones you had!" She said, excitedly. You huffed out a laugh, endeared by the fact that she remembered all the papers you showed her with photos and other memories of your childhood.

"No problem, baby," you said, getting up, smoothing your pencil skirt and opening the door. She went to the hall to press the elevator button, "we can do it." You said, more to yourself than to her.

Two weeks passed and you had everything ready for Olivia's birthday with the help of your closests friends, Victoria and Jude. You were planning on throwing her party at your parents' house, which had a big, beautiful yard with space enough for the kids to play all they wanted. You had ordered Olivia's favorite cake, red velvet, and a lot of other treats that you knew she loved.

"You know she'll be drunk on sugar, right?" Victoria asked, laughing. She remembered the last time she took Olivia to the movies and she was electric during the way back.

"It's her birthday, once a year won't kill her. Maybe it'll kill me, but eh, what's the matter?" You joked lightly and your friends laughed.

Jude had a checklist in her hands. "Okay, let's go over this so we can go back to our yearly drinking like there's no tomorrow date. We have the place, the food, the decoration... oh, no. Where are the invitations?"

"Oh, I got it. They're in my room. I had to put it away because Oli wanted to read them over and over again."

They nodded as you left your living room, walking down the hall so you could get said invitations. You felt dread creeping up on you when you couldn't find them in the top drawer of your bedside table. "I can't find them!" You yelled loud enough for the women to hear you.

"Are you sure you placed them here?"

"Yes, I'm sure. Not sure what happened, though." You murmured, already feeling a little disappointed. "I gotta look for it now. She drew it herself and I took a lot of copies. I can't possibly tell her I lost them, she would be heartbroken." You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose.

Victoria approached you to rub your arm, trying to comfort you. "Hey, we can look for it. We still have time." Jude said, smiling reassuringly.

"I know, I just don't wanna be too late." You said, giving them a tight-lipped smile.

So, you started looking for it in every corner of your apartment. You stayed in your bedroom, while Jude and Victoria went to Olivia's. You had cleaned the apartment today, a Saturday, when your daughter usually went to your parents', so that you'd have free time to spend and catch up with your friends. It was almost sundown, daylight fading softly and the lighting in your room was becoming darker as time went by. Suddenly, you heard your bell. Weird. You weren't expecting anybody.

"I'll get that!" You let your friends know.

Opening the door, you weren't expecting your neighbor. Rephrasing: the neighbor who Olivia adored so much. Spencer. That works, too. He has a name, after all. "Hey, hi!" He greeted you with a grin, looking shy.

"Hey, you!" You greeted him back. "Is everything okay?" You asked, a little unsure.

You took in his appearance. He looked tired, that's for sure, but it didn't stop him from looking like the most gorgeous man in existence. He wore his usual attire, carrying his caramel satchel leather bag. You didn't have an immediate answer, so you gulped when you noticed that you were looking a little longer than what's socially acceptable.

"Yeah, it's fine," he chuckled, unable to hold your stare for a moment longer. He considered, for a moment, that your daughter was the element needed for him to have a little confidence to speak when you were around. Well, shit. "I — um. I think these belong to you. I found it when I opened the door to my apartment." He extended you a bunch of papers. You blushed. You busied yourself so much with admiring him that you failed to notice that he had something in his hands.

He studied you for a moment. You looked beautiful that day. Not that you didn't look beautiful all the times you've seen him, but oh, well. Like the first time you met, you were wearing a dress. It was blue and it stopped mid-thigh. He had to stop himself from gulping at the sight of your bare, plush legs. It was different from what he was used to seeing you wear during working days, during the eventual elevator meetings. The dress hugged your curves beautifully, there was no question, like it had been made just for you. Your hair was loose and it fell over your shoulders. When you first answered the door, you had a worried frown on your face, but it quickly disappeared with his words. He felt relieved to see you get rid of your distress.

"Oh, goodness! Sorry about that. I was just looking for these." You gladly took them from his hand and your fingers accidentally brushed his. His hands were warm. "Olivia must have slided them under your door gap," you laughed nervously. You could feel two pairs of eyes looking at the interaction before them. You needed to brace yourself for their questions and very much possible teasing.

"Yeah, yeah. I supposed she did that, too." He laughed, quietly.

You thought for a moment. "You know, you should go. She really likes you. Talks about your conversations all the time and says she misses you when we don't run into you at some point." You revealed. It made Spencer's heart soar in his chest.

"Really?" He couldn't help but smile, even if he couldn't believe it. Not that you were a liar, but that it meant so much to your daughter to talk to him now and then. He felt alive at that moment, felt wanted. “I don’t want to impose.”

"Yeah, I mean, no! No problem, you wouldn’t be. We’d like to have you." You said, smiling adorning your face. You took a card from your hands, offering it to him. "With us, I mean. It's going to be at my parents' house, we'll have a bunch of kids running around and cake." You surely looked like an idiot.

We’d like to have you, was all that he could hear.

Did you want him there for him or just because he was kind to your daughter?

Either way, "Thanks. I'll do my best to be there." He said, utterly happy. Saying your name lowly, followed by a 'goodbye', made your heart jump in your chest. You replied with a wave and a small grin. Your cheeks were sore from all the smiling. It was inevitable.

You turned around and had barely closed the door when Jude said, a little louder than her usual tone, "So, I see you found the invitation cards. I hope you gave one for Olivia's birthday party, not for a hot date." She playfully scolded you.

With wide eyes, you banged the door closed and turned around to yell, "Jude! What???"

Little did you know, Spencer heard it all. You know, thin walls, small distance and all. He grinned to himself, face flushed a deep red.

He was definitely looking forward to seeing you. And Olivia, too, of course. It was her birthday, after all.

[ensn61080]

"We've been over this before," Stormchaser sighs.

"And yet, it doesn't bring me any closer to understanding." Tiger crosses his arms. "You, time and time again, are free and available and powerful enough to help stop Leone and Jack-o and the Doctor, but you don't. You avoid them like the plague. That's not what heroes are supposed to do!"

"Says you, Tiger. You and the rest of them are free to pick your battles and nurse your wounds, but there is, in fact, more to hero-ing than trading punches." She turns to leave, but Tiger grabs her arm.

"Stormchaser, please," he breathes, not wanting to keep her longer than necessary, but answers of this caliber are necessary. "You say that every time like it's some universal truth, but it never brings me any closer to getting it. Even when Jack-o forced that artificial earthquake, you finished your job and then disappeared. Didn't even stay to help defeat them." Tiger lets go of her arm with a heavy sigh. His eyes trace the ground, as if reading it for some unseen answer. "Why do you leave them alone? In the event our paths cross, you just—get in, get out. You could be so much more than that."

Stormchaser fixes her cuff, glazed eyes peering at it in thought. "Tiger... If I waste my time chasing villains instead of storms, the people inherently lose their crutch. My powers, while, yes, incredibly useful in a fight, NEED to be used in the way I do because not every battle has two conscious sides. You do incredible work, Tiger, and I envy you. But I can't get mixed up in that sort of thing. You and the others mess up easily repaired buildings like it's Tuesday, but the devastation I see if my weather powers aren't put to use... cannot be repaired."

Tiger's eyes had long since widened with a realization. So many things had gone unsaid every time the topic was brought up, due to one or more party's availability—but now that the cards were laid out in front of him? Things made so much more sense. Stormchaser's power ranked high above even Tiger's, but it frustrated him how she never used that for "good."

"...You are helping. We just don't see it."

"Yes. I am."

"That's.. actually really noble, of you."

"Sometimes pain is unseen," Stormchaser brushes her bangs out of her eyes.

"...Can I come along with you? On a mission, sometime?" Tiger tilts his head, hands fiddling with themselves in a newfound desire to explore this new aspect of heroing. Stormchaser's brow furrows for a second before her hand clutches her chin as she looks him up and down.

"You know what? I could use some crowd control. Sure. I'd love to have you, Tiger."

Stormchaser's comm beeps, and she gestures for Tiger to come with.

"Follow my lead."

You're a superhero who specializes exclusively in stopping disasters. The other heroes just don't understand why you need to remain neutral to the villains…

[loganhowlettshousewife]

animal

chapter 3

friendly reminder that i am not a writer, i'm just a girl who loves logan howlett and wanted to write something exploring his animalistic side since i so rarely see it done. my first language is also not english, so please do not be rude when giving me any feedback.

warnings: swearing, mentions of blood, mentions of sex, non-sexual nudity

series masterlist │my masterlist

logan sleeps in your bed now. night after night you found him on the hard floor, until you couldn’t deal with the thought of him being so uncomfortable just because he wanted to be near you. so you forced him into your bed, though you’re not sure if forced is the right word to use given how willingly he slipped in next to you - as if he’d done it a million times before, as if it was normal.

he’s a walking heater - you swear there’s a fire burning under his skin, working through his veins to spread throughout his body. you naturally run cold, you always have, so cuddling up to his warmth is a luxury. even in the beginning, when you didn’t want to fall asleep in his arms for fear of what it would mean for your relationship, you would wake bundled up in his arms, safe and protected and wanted in a way that made you never want to leave the bed.

it’s nice, really nice.

and it simultaneously sucks, because you’ve started having dreams of logan, of kissing him, calling him your husband, watching him rock a baby. and you’ve had other dreams too, the ones you’re sure logan can smell on you, with his advanced senses. he’s always awake watching you when you wake up from those dreams, his body still curled against yours, hard dick pressed against you. but he never does anything.

it’s horribly endearing. he’s obviously affected but won’t leave you, knows how much comfort you’ve found in his arms. so he grits his teeth and bears it. despite being half-animal, he’s more of a gentleman than most of the men you’ve met.

and you love knowing that you affect him, knowing that your feelings for him are not completely one-sided, even if you can only be sure of the physical component. when you leave the room to start on your morning routine, he stays behind.

you can’t be certain, but you imagine him taking his dick in his hand, stroking himself to completion, hard and desperate and quick, muffling the sound of his groans with a hand pressed to his mouth.

you’re not used to being woken up like this, however. logan hovers over you, face twisted into a snarl so full of hatred it brings tears to your eyes. his claws are out and have ripped holes in the sheets and the mattress, locking you in a makeshift cage.

his eyes are glazed over, like he’s not quite present in the moment. he’s somewhere else right now, lost somewhere in his mind where you can’t reach him.

this isn’t a slow awakening where you can take time to blink the sleep from your eyes, letting them flutter shut for two more minutes to enjoy the bliss of being not-quite awake. the adrenaline hits you hard and fast, your heartbeat pounding loud in your ears.

you’re trembling, can feel it with every breath you take, shaky exhales and sharp inhales. you’re careful not to make any sudden moves, worried about what logan may do to you.

you know him, know he wouldn’t hurt you. but he doesn’t see you right now, you don’t know who or what he’s seeing in your place. but he’s never looked at you with these eyes, with this level of anger - in fact, you can’t remember a time when he’s truly been angry at you. scared, cautious, tense, maybe. but not fury like this.

“logan,” you whisper.

the sound has barely left your throat when he pulls one clawed hand away from the mattress, tearing more of it in the process, before punching his claws towards your chest. you cry out, instinctually, and that snaps him out of it.

you feel the sharp sting of his metal claws dragging over your skin as he pulls away. it’s only a scratch, and not a terribly deep one at that. you’re used to small injuries, pricking yourself in the garden or accidentally cutting your thumb while cooking or any other stupid way to draw blood to the surface of your skin.

but it’s not the pain that matters, it’s the thought that if it took him a second longer to break out of his nightmare he could have pierced your heart, killed you. 

“logan,” you ask, shaky, “are you okay?”

he’s staring at you, eyes wide and frightened, but the hatred that was there is gone. his claws retract back into his skin. he nods, slow, never breaking eye contact with you.

and then you burst into tears.

you can’t stop, your cries hysterical. logan sits on the bed, moving away from you with every cry that rakes your body, but you grab at his arms desperately, needing him. somehow, despite logan being the reason for your fear, he’s the only thing you want, your mind calling out his name like a prayer.

he hesitates to touch you at first, but you beg him with a broken “please”, and then he’s all over you, pulling you into his lap, nuzzling his face into your neck. he kisses you softly on the skin there, a habit he’s taken up that you don’t mind. you probably should mind, but you’re unable to care about that when it feels so right.

you fall asleep crying in his arms, the exhaustion pulling you under. you wake up again with the sun, logan looking haggard and pale, still holding you. it seems he didn’t fall back asleep when you had.

your throat feels raw from crying, and you can feel the tear tracks where they dried on your skin.

“what was the nightmare about?” you try to ask him.

he shakes his head, every line around his face pulled taunt, “no.”

you’d expected such an answer, something short and succinct where he refuses to lay his problems on you. still, you’d hoped he might share some information, even a sliver of his story that could help you help him.

you’re still worried about logan, but there’s not much you can do if he won’t speak to you, so you leave the bed to wash the dried tears from your face. you go on with your routine as usual, keeping a closer eye on logan, waiting for possible signs to help you uncover the mystery of whatever the fuck is happening with him.

there are none, of course - he’s very difficult to read when he wants to be.

he doesn’t touch you as much, a step further behind you than usual. but otherwise his behaviour doesn’t change too greatly. he’s still sweet and grumpy and lovely.

you teach him how to cook your favourite breakfast foods, and to your surprise, it comes naturally to him. he works by your side like he’s always been there, listening to your instructions perfectly every time. the cuts on your chest still burn slightly, but simply feeling his presence by your side makes everything better.

you’re reading a book on the couch when logan returns from hunting. he never brings anything from his hunt into the house, for which you’re grateful, but he does drag in a lot of dirt. 

you have a routine by now, or at least the bones of one. he likes it when you help him clean up after a hunt or a run in the forest, and so do you. it’s the kind of moment you imagine you’d find in a book, with a couple so deeply in love that they can hardly stand to be apart for a second.

you’re still not completely comfortable with the idea of stripping naked in front of him, but logan has no such qualms. in the bathroom, he pushes his pants and boxers down in one motion.

you blush as he steps into the shower, so unashamed of his body. there’s a wild edge to him that you notice more in moments like these, where you realise the impact of not having those human memories, the socialisation that teaches you to dislike yourself, teaches you that confidence is a negative thing, makes you vain and egotistical.

the water soaks him in an instant, flattening his cute hair tufts against his scalp and you giggle at the way he looks like a wet kitten, though less disgruntled.

he tilts his head expectantly, waiting for you. his gaze is dark and heady, intense as you pull off your shirt, leaving you in only a bra. your face warms as you take off your skirt next, watching logan’s face the entire time, the way his eyes linger on your panties for a long, long moment.

it’s not the first time you’ve undressed in front of him, but every time the effect is the same. warmth pools in your stomach, a mix of arousal and nerves. he’s intoxicating, and that’s terrifying to you.

you don’t take off your bra and panties. they feel like armour, protecting you from being fully defenceless in front of him. it’s not like he couldn’t see the full shape of you, every curve of your body, the parts that you love about yourself, that make you smile at the mirror, and those you hate. 

still, it makes you feel like the one in control - he’s completely naked and you’re not - though you know that he’s larger and stronger than you, that really he’s letting you be in control of the situation, not moving too much as you wash the blood and grime from his body. 

he cares so much about your comfort. sometimes it makes you want to cry. 

“you, now,” he grunts.

“what?”

you’re taken aback at the break in the quiet. it always shocks you a little when he speaks, his voice rough from disuse. 

“i will clean you, now,” he gestures at you and you laugh nervously, taking a step back, as far as you can until you hit the tiled wall. it’s not a very large shower, there’s not really anywhere to go.

“logan,” you whisper, heart in your throat, “no. not right now, okay? finish up your shower, i think- yeah i’m going to go now.”

you practically run out of the steam-filled bathroom, feeling like you’re going to collapse at any second. the thought of him stripping you out of your remaining clothes, unclasping your bra, pulling your panties down your legs and tossing them aside, his hands running over your body, even for something as innocent as washing you, something you’ve done with him a dozen or so times.

you’re having enough sex fantasies about him as it is, you don’t need to add more fuel to the fire. and the thing is, you want it. you want him. you want those fantasies to come to life. but you can’t help but fear that logan’s only clinging to you because you’re the one who found him when he was at his most vulnerable.

when he goes out into the world, whether that’s sometime soon or if it takes years, will he start to resent you? will he find someone better? will the soft intimacy that’s been growing between you collapse like a house of cards?

you’re in your bedroom, laying on top of the sheets, staring up at the ceiling when logan enters.

“you’re upset?” he asks, and at the tone of his voice, the pain that you hear reflected in each syllable, your head turns his way. he looks devastated, like the idea that you might be upset at him is the worst thing that’s ever happened to him in his life. you’re very certain that’s incorrect.

he looks so innocent like this, not a wild animal with claws that rip through flesh like butter, but a man, anxious and unsure and pleading. you can’t help the smile that rises to your lips. you shake your head as much as you can against the mattress and reach your arms out towards him, a wordless beckoning.

“never,” you say.

within moments he’s in your arms, hugging you tight, his face pressed into your chest. it’s nice, the solid weight of him, like a very heavy weighted blanket. minutes pass, and then logan shifts his body just enough to look up at you.

he makes eye contact with you, and in his eyes you see a raging storm. his face is blank as it often is, a mask that you can’t read, but you can feel his muscles tense as if preparing for a fight, can catch a glimpse of several different emotions in the hazel staring back at you.

he leans up, until his face is barely a centimetre away from yours, and your breath catches. you’re scared to hope, terrified, even if all signs point in one direction, so you don’t move closer but you don’t move away, eyes fluttering shut as if it’ll all become easier, as if the butterflies in your stomach will recede, if you’re not looking directly at him.

he closes the distance between you, mouth meeting yours in a chaste, soft kiss. it’s nothing like you expected from logan, feral and intense in everything he does. but he’s waiting for a response from you, scared in the way you’ve only ever seen him once, when you’d first found him in the barn.

he pulls away and you grab onto him desperately, forcing him to crash back into you. you share open-mouthed kisses, hot and urgent yet so loving. it’s everything you’ve ever dreamed about, perfect in the way little else can be, and you feel tears prickling in your eyes, a sob catching in your throat.

you’re absolutely fucked, your heart stolen by him, and you can only hope logan meets you where you are and doesn’t hurt you.

taglist: @mystiquesvendetta @raeinyourdreams @babey-fruit-bat @meetmypointlessaddiction @kneelforloki @deaky-with-a-c @hypermarvellove @littlepeanut03 @the-ruler-of-death @aliengutzstuff @misscrissfemmefatale @mynamesstevenwithav @teaganthemorningstar @blackkatzz @leryg0 @fries11 @forksloree @i5uckersblog @dragovegogrimborn @quillycrow @melday0105 @just-a-little-cellist

if your name is in white it means i couldn’t tag you for some reason. i’m very sorry :(

[interstellar-productions]

Thinking so many thoughts honestly, about Aaron currently (spiritually not situationally I relate to him, it’s complicated). Aaron so specifically speaks to me because of how (at least with the crumbs we’re fed by canon) he internalizes and deals with his trauma. He WANTS to be normal. In fact he tries so hard to be normal (as society interprets normality) that he actively distances himself and represses any part of him that may lead people to viewing him as anything other then normal.

In my mind this was probably done intentionally, it creates a contrast between him and Andrew (and is probably why Neil is able to tell the twins apart pretty much from the get go). Andrew doesn’t speak about his trauma but he also doesn’t necessarily minimize it. Andrew makes himself big, body language wise he’s very loud. “Look at me, at what they did to me. Look at who I became”. Andrew is a warning sign, he lets his bleeding wounds show and mixes them with ragged bone and snarling teeth. Andrew is telling people without telling people what will happen if someone crosses him.

In contrast Aaron hides, his pain and his scares. Aaron turns everything inwards, shoving it all into closets and under beds. If he blends in then maybe no one will notice him enough to pick him out. Hiding in plane sight. Aaron works so hard to be normal and is canonically known as the least interesting and most normal fox, despite having a murder charge and being a recovered addict. He is the normal fox. People overlook him, glance right over him, his teammates, peers, everyone. Perfect grades, good at his sports, girl next door girlfriend. Aaron is so painfully NORMAL.

It speaks so deeply because it’s so obvious to me that its a coping mechanism and not actually because that’s how he really is. If he was just painfully normal we wouldn’t get some of his more violent or assholeish out burst and he probably wouldn’t have that grudge against Bee. His grudge against Bee is actually what sparked this whole thing for me. He hates Bee, he says that he’s never actually spoken a word to her and even when he starts sessions with Andrew he’s really just speaking to Andrew while Bee is in the room rather then directly speaking to Bee. My little psych major mind (mixed with my personal feelings but HUSH) is just screaming that this whole “I’m normal look right through me please I’m normal”. It’s how he COPES. This guy grew up at least a little bit inside a church (because Luther) and had to hide both bruises and addiction and whatever else was going on inside that house. Statistically speaking there’s two major ways you internalize trauma like that. And I love Aaron and Andrew because their those two ways basically. Aaron is trying so hard to be so Normal that he becomes basically invisible. Blending into the background.

He probably has everyone convinced that he’s got it all in the bag, all his shit? It’s in a sock, don’t even worry about it. He’s got the grades, the girlfriend and he plays a sport. Bro is literally sitting pretty to be so uninteresting that he gets nothing but a cursory glance, and it’s totally part of his scheme. No one’s going to think to ask questions he doesn’t want them too. Not about his past and not about what’s going on in his life. “Oh that’s Aaron yeah I’ve got advanced chem with him, yeah good guy. I think he plays exy.” Aaron doesn’t want people to ask questions, because he knows he’s towing the line. Does he have it all together? Or is he desperately trying to keep all his shit in the boxes he’s stuffed it in? Who knows. Aaron probably doesn’t even know.

Aaron gives me “fake it til you make it” vibes that it actually hurts my soul. This man wants to be normal so bad that he’s doing everything he can to not have to address what’s actually wrong, because acknowledging something’s wrong means acknowledging that he is in fact NOT normal. And he wants to be normal because being normal is how you survive. (How he got Tilda to not beat him for dragging the wrong sort of attention to her)

My psych major mind is absolutely consumed by AFTG because to me they represent all the different ways that trauma can manifest in people. Basically all of the foxes (even and Renee Wymack) are the violent kind. Their teeth and warning signs, don’t get too close, don’t step on my toes. But they all show it so differently. Renee for example is the healed sort of violent, she’s faced the majority of her demons and won, she knows she’ll be able to handle you if you step out of line (see her ruining the nest). Nicky is the loud kind. He’s not the break bone sort of violent but he is the make you uncomfortable kind. So much of Nicky’s early character (Foxhole court) is him giving off borderline predatory vibes. His jokes, his mannerisms, the whole Edens trip. It’s his version of violent. He makes you uncomfortable so he knows whose safe and who isn’t.

Then you have aaron and his whole character is a ticking time bomb. Aaron isn’t normal because he’s healed, he’s normal because its the only way he knows to survive. That’s why he doesn’t like Bee. Bee is a psychologist, her whole job is to know their problems and fix them and the fact he even has to go sit in a room with her is a threat to his overall performance of normality. Because normal people don’t NEED therapy.

Screams into the void, I’m so normal about him.

Also all of this is just my personal little ramblings about a purely fictional character that reminds me of myself as it relates to the topic of interest I’m currently studying. If you don’t agree with me that’s totally fine, if you have different preconceptions about him thats totally ok too. This is just my little brain rot corner of the internet and I’m just trying to have fun.

To the 3 people that wanted to see my deranged psych rambles i hope this reaches you, this is all for you!

[astrasng]

ᝰ.ᐟ NCT DREAM as The 1975 songs

a/n: this is my first group as songs post, but i'm planning on doing more for other groups too! if anyone has requests, please don't be afraid and send them in my inbox! <3

also i would like to add that in this post there may be mentions of toxicity, BUT i have no intention saying that person is toxic.

please, enjoy! <3

𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ MARK as Then Because She Goes.

The song is specifically a dreamy, romantic anthem for someone who wants to confess their love. The rhythm and the lyrics perfectly symbolizes Mark as someone who is in love with music. His feelings are so strong and complex that he finds it easier to fill a paper with his thougths and then write a song about it. He would definately do this, if he feels overwhelmed about his thougths inside his head.

For Mark I would also say She's American and Oh Caroline.

𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ RENJUN as Fallingforyou.

The song is about a person falling for someone, sharing the persepective of beautiful, harmonic feelings. I think when Renjun loves someone, the happening itself has a soft atmosphere around it, giving the person all he has just to love his partner truthfully and wholely. Renjun would take a moment when he realizes he had fallen in love, soaking in his feelings about his partner and wondering what beautiful things he can do with his other half.

For Renjun I would also say So Far.

𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ JENO as Somebody Else.

Somebody else lyrically deals with the after-effects of a breakup, and overswing over the idea of the former lover’s new relationship. The song describes being caught between the various emotional phases one experiences after the end of a relationship. Jeno loves dearly, his feelings strong towards someone he loves. He has a hard time letting go his partner, acceptting they had found a new person to call home.Despite the jealousy, deep inside he would feel solace of seeing that his former lover is not lonely.

𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ HAECHAN as Be My Mistake.

The song mainly focuses on an insignificant hookup during a relationship, or even after one. This reflects on being young and careless, not knowing what we want in real life. Haechan appears to be a bold person, his personality eager with experiences and wants. Haechan being a young free mind, could often get him into not thinking through things, feeling the aftermath of the mistakes he had done. But mistakes often wake people up to realize what they already have. He could make mistakes in life, but in the end, he is that kind of person who appreaciates what he already has.

For Haechan I would also say The Sound and Oh Caroline.

𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ JAEMIN as About You.

About you is strongly based on the sensations when you are deeply in love. Jaemin's feelings for someone is treasured, his memories documented often in pictures as being a photographer. But as the song tells, the singer describes how he still remembers why he loves his partner. Jaemin would be like this too, going through hardship in a relationship but nevertheless stating the obvious, he is in love. Even if life would get in a way, he wouldn't forget his partner, and why he loves them. Rectracing situations and memories of what made him happy, the things he misses in life.

For Jaemin I would also say All I Need To Hear or You.

𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ CHENLE as A Change Of Heart and Robbers.

For Chenle I chose two songs. A Change of heart shows the reality about falling out of love, along with Robbers, which shows the toxicity side and how destructive it can be. I think Chenle as being an idol would be too distracting for him to really pay attention to a relationship. Doesn't matter how much he doesn't want to admit, it robs him and his partner from actually having the feeling of love towards each other,realizing that they have much more to experience in life.

𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ JISUNG as Me & You Together Song.

The song is tender, an act of being young and in love. Jisung being the naive and youngster he is, he would fall in love with the idea of being in a domestric bliss with his partner. The song features the dreams and fantasies one has to another, the feelings not reciprocated. I think Jisung has suffered in this in the past, or will in the future. I think the upbeat rythm fits Jisung, the 1990s and early 2000s vibe naturally drawn to him. The song has a nostalgic feeling to it, and I think this song is what it would be like remembering back to Jisung after a breakup.

[lov-3-rs]

Filthy Mouth

Simon Riley x Reader

(mdni 18+)

-

-

Simon’s name lit up your phone screen, and for a moment, you thought you were imagining it. You hadn’t heard from him in weeks, His last mission was longer than expected. But as soon as you swiped to answer, your heart kicked up in your chest, knowing his voice was about to fill the space where all that silence and loneliness had been.

-

“Hey baby,” you said, a little breathless, trying to keep it light. You hadn’t expected the rush of feelings that came with hearing his voice again.

“Hello love.” His voice was smooth, deep, and as familiar as the back of your hand. “I’ve been thinking about you all day. I should be home by tomorrow Night. I have a long drive ahead of me” he said, Simon hated flying public airlines, you roll your eyes as you remember him saying that too many freak “accidents” happen.

“I’ve missed you so much. It’s been too long hun.”

He breathed in and exhaled sharply, it sounded like he was smoking a cigarette.

“Too long huh?” there was a pause. “baby i’ve missed you in so many ways.” he let out another exhale but it was more frustrated than the last. You swallowed, feeling a sudden heat rise in your cheeks. “Simon…” You said his name softly.

“No, baby you don’t understand” he said, his voice dropping a notch, rougher now. “I’ve missed how you feel against me, the way your body fits so damn perfectly with mine. But what I’m really talking about is the way my cock fits so perfectly in you.”

Your pulse raced, your body already reacting to his words. He always had a way of making you feel like he saw right through you, peeling back every layer with just a whisper.

“Simon, you…can’t wait till you get home to say this?” you whispered, your voice shaky with a mix of desire and surprise. “You know I hate being teased” You could feel yourself getting wet.

“Wait?” He chuckled darkly, low and slow. “Baby, I jack myself off at what has felt like every night just thinking about you moaning my name…you know that, right?” He paused once more. “Are you wet right now love?” His voice was a raw ache now.

Your breath hitched in your throat. You couldn’t stop the shiver that ran through you. “God, Simon…”

“Yeah?,” he said softly, smiling to himself. “I’m counting down the fucking hours. Hell, the minutes until I get to see you again.” He continued, “baby I need you to do something for me.” you felt like you knew what was coming. The words were tangled in your head, “yeah Si?”

“I want you to touch yourself,” he murmured, his voice dipping lower, more intimate.

You closed her eyes, letting the warmth of his words wash over you. Your hand moved slowly under the thin fabric of pajamas pants you were wearing, inserting two of your finger. It’s been a hot minute since you’ve touched yourself because somehow Simon is the only person to really make you cum so you gave up trying to even please yourself. “fuck Simon…” you said in a soft whisper of pleasure.

He smiles to himself, “that’s it baby just keep prepping yourself for me.” Simon had the most outrageous and painful boner but it felt so good hearing you moan and the slick sounds of you fingering yourself in the background. “now baby I want you to get that dildo you got in your nightstand.” you stopped what you were doing and you felt your face get hot.

You didn’t really use your dildo because it definitely wasn’t near his size and again Simon is the only one to truly satisfy you, but he also never mentions sex toys or likes using them during sex so him talking about it was completely new territory, it shocked you to say the least.

But regardless you grabbed your dildo from the nightstand beside you. “okay now what?” your voice was so needy you felt almost pathetic.

You could hear him take a drag from his cigarette and exhaling the smoke once more before speaking, “fuck yourself with it” he demanded. Wasting no time you did as he said and started pumping it in and out of yourself, your head flying back as you moan his name, “god simon.” He chuckled “that’s right baby say my fuckin name” you kept pumping the dildo in and out wishing it was him, hitting that sweet spot inside you.

He doesn’t speak for a moment just to listen to your sweet and aching moans. Eventually he breaks his silence, “When I get home i’m going to fuck you and i’m going to fuck you hard and as i’m thrusting my cock into you i’ll be stuffing that dildo in you too, i’m going to make sure you’re nice and full.” You started to pump the dildo faster, grinding on it while your eyes rolled back into your head, “Simon i’m going to cum” you were breaking ready to explode. “fuckin do it, cream on that fake dick” you kept hitting that sweat spot till you saw god damn stars “oh my FUCK” you moan out-loud and riding out your high.

He grunted as he shifted himself in his seat trying his best to ignore the hard-on in his pants and gripping the steering wheel so tight his knuckles turn white. “God I love you, i’ll see you soon love.” he says his goodbye and hangs up before he makes you do it all over again. You layed there panting for a few minutes and coming down from what felt like heaven.

Fuck.

Him and his filthy mouth.

-

-

[simpingforbots]

Hi I really love your writing of transformers one and I was wondering if you could make a d-16 and female s /o riding a crowded train with the other miners and d-16 had to lean against her ( but not to close) so that she won't get squish and she gets really flustered afterwards.

D-16 x Fembot Miner.

Peaceful Ride to another shift.

Another day another shift at mines. Young fembot woke up from her charge, seeing other bots and fembots waking up as well, or walking around to receive their daily energon portion for the day. She could hear Orion Pax and D-16 talking loudly about something, probably some kind of antics that Orion was planning. she sighed and get of her charging port and headed towards the energon hand out, taking in two and keeping other three on her arm for later times, knowing well she won't get a break at all and it will help her to not collapse from exhaustion. The reason she was looking for D-16 is because she really liked him. Out of all the miners he was one of the best, the one with Elita’s group, who was a good leader. It did made Y/N a bit jealous, worried that maybe D-16 had a small crush on leader, but he had to constantly reassure her he did not. They were just co-worker. Sighing heavily as she got her equipment, fembot scanned the area, hoping to spot D-16 in ray of helm, but no luck. Not wanting to get on Darkwing's bad side today, or Elita's, she followed the flow to the train, hopping inside and finding some spot by the windows and getting shoved by other bots and fems as they pulled in. She could not handle the flow and tripped a bit, bumping in to someone.

Sorry – She mattered out quietly and moved a bit to give the bot she bumped in to some more space, well as much as she could in this overcrowded train, only to bump in to them again as the train started moving again – Sorry.

You good, Y/N.

Fembot quickly looked up, smiling a bit as D-16 flashed his soft smile at them. Another bot bumped in to Y/N making her stumble in to D-16 chest, pleasing her hands on his chest to cushion her self from suden fall. Such suden action made her feel hot in face and quickly pulled back, trying to regain what little pride she had. Being cogless miner was basically the lowest part of society and it was already hard to get even a little bit of respect. The train moved on swiftly though Iacon, diving under and she was shoved in to D-16 again, earning a chuckle from him.

Really handsy today huh? – Y/N looked away, blushing quite a lot, even if they were dating. - Hold on a second - , wrapping his servo around the small torso and pulled Y/n closer, lenaing in to her – better?

Y/N felt flustered even more, but at the same time felt safe as she was now safe from constantly bumping in to other bots. It was really nice motion from D-16, leaning back in to touch as the train continued it’s path in to the deeper mines, silently enjoying the ride in safe hands of fellow miner, who she was totally NOT crushing on right now. And totally did not enjoyed the hand on her hip and safety D-16 provided. It was a shirt moment of piece in this hard life and sadly good times don’t last fore ever. As soon as train stopped, you had to get of and go with another group to mine energon.

Try not to get in trouble today, D – She smiled, piking up a drill as they walked out, flashing a soft smile towards the bot she cared about.

You too. Be carful out there – D-16 nodded and had to leave, waiving his hand and started his jat-pack, flying away.

Y/N only sighed dreamily, knowing well that this short moment of peace will be forever engraved in to her memory. Until something clicked for her. His hand was on her hips. Her hips. She could only let out a muffled squawk as she hid her face in drill and hurried to follow her group.

thank you so much for requesting this. sorry if it is small, but i do hope you enjoy it. hope you have a wonderful day/evening where ever you are. :-)

[e-m-ma-lmfao]

"We're gonna get out of here, I promise"

pairing : mike munroe x (fem) reader

cw : mike has a gun, talk of death, and blood, and maybe like one swear I don't know. reader is referred to as mike’s girlfriend, but other than that i don’t believe any female pronouns are used.

a/n : i know this is kind of late since the until dawn remake has been out for a while but i kept procrastinating this after I started it. anyways #needthat.

The wind pulls at you from every angle, hair clinging to your sweaty, frostbitten cheeks. Adrenaline kept your body moving through the never-ending maze of trees and snow; you didn’t think it would last much longer. You were sure if you continued in this direction, eventually, you would reach the sanatorium. 

It was marked on the map in the cable car station, the same map you had seen before you made your way up to the lodge with Sam and Chris. That was hours ago, and you wish you could go back and warn yourself to go back down the mountain. Or even better, ignore Josh’s email altogether and stay home. Play sick. You’d say anything not to be where you are, right now. 

But that’s not possible, is it? 

Your clothes are sticky with blood. Not your own, you think. You hope. This night was not turning out the way you had expected it to. And the choices you had made leading up to this point were beginning to make your stomach turn the longer you thought about them. 

Why did you leave the lodge? You could’ve stayed on the kitchen floor after that psycho knocked you out; you could’ve pretended not to hear Chris’s attempts to wake you up. You could’ve looked for a phone instead of rushing into the snow to find Ashley. Speaking of them, why had you left Chris and Ashley? You could’ve returned to the lodge with them to find Sam after witnessing your friend be sawed in half, but no. You needed to know that Mike was okay considering you hadn’t seen him since you both arrived. 

Why did you start that argument with Mike before the two of you had left for the lodge? 

“C’mon, don’t be like that.”

“Like what?”

“You're getting jealous over nothing. We’ve talked about this, there is nothing between me and Em. I’m with you. I’m in love with you. Why does this keep being brought up?”

“Maybe because she texts your phone like you're still close? ‘Text when you and the new gf get here, can’t wait to see you, winky face’,” you push his phone towards him. “She knows who I am, why does she feel the need to refer to me as the ‘new girlfriend’ as if we’ve never met? And why is she sending you winky faces? Why exactly is Em so excited to see you, Mike?” You make a point of emphasizing her nickname which seems to flow off his tongue so easily. 

“You’re looking into this way too much. This is crazy, I mean come on, that’s how she texts everyone, baby.” He gently takes his phone from you, throwing it onto the bed and reaching back for your hand which hovers in the air. You let him, but you make no effort to hold his hand back, fingers only resting in his hold. A soft sigh leaves your lips. 

“Yeah well, I’m not loving that she texts you that way and I’m also not loving the fact that you’ve said nothing to her about how weird it is. You have no problem defending her when you talk to me, so why can’t you say something to her about how I feel?”

“If I said something it would just cause a fight between me and her, or you and her, and the last thing that anyone needs up there, especially Josh, is for all of us to be fighting. Can you pretend to like her, only for the weekend, and then you never have to again.”

“You say that every time she’s involved, ‘just pretend to like her for tonight, and then you never have to ever again.’ But I will, because for some reason she is always around. I figured when Matt and she started dating we would see her less but I guess I was wrong.”

“Please, let’s just go and get it over with. We’re doing this for Josh, remember?”

“I don’t know, Michael, something about spending an entire weekend with your ex-girlfriend isn’t really appealing to me anymore. Call me crazy.” His eyebrows soften as you use his full name, especially in that tone. He is enjoying this conversation less than you are. 

“Don’t be this way, we’re already packed and ready to go. Just come downstairs and get in the truck. She won’t bother us, baby, I promise. Come on..” He attempts to pull you, gently bringing your hand closer to him. But your fingers slip from his hand, dropping to your side. From the bed, his phone buzzes, the screen lights up, and you don’t have to look to know who’s messaging him. 

“Sam told me she's taking the bus up there, I think,” you look back to him, “I’ll just head up with her so she doesn't have to go alone.”

“But then I have to go alone. And the bus leaves in like an hour, that's barely enough time to get ready and get to the stop. You're being ridiculous, just come with me. And if you want to, we can talk about this on the way up.” 

 You look away from him, missing the way his face falls as you turn your back to him. “I’ll see you up there, Mike.”

If you had just let it go, believed him, and gone with him instead of taking the bus with Sam, you would’ve never been angry with each other at the lodge. Or rather, you wouldn’t have been so furious with him because you would’ve talked things out in the truck, kissed, and made up instead of stewing in your thoughts on the bus. You wouldn’t be worrying about whether or not he was alive right now. But you were stubborn and foolish, and now you are trudging through the snow, improperly dressed, and praying the person you love is still breathing on this stupid mountain. 

You cross your arms over your chest, preserving what little warmth you have left, and with every step you lose another piece of hope. All you can think of is him. And how, if he is dead, he would’ve died thinking that you were mad at him. You weren’t even angry, annoyed for sure but not angry, you were just being stubborn and taking your frustration out on him. Now you might never get to apologize. The thought makes your stomach churn and your steps falter as a wave of nausea overtakes you. 

But, finally, in the distance you see the outline of a large building surrounded by a brick fence that appears to be falling apart. You allow yourself to be comforted, just for a moment, by the sanatorium's existence. The nausea in your stomach ceases as your steps quicken, arms uncrossing to move through the air. You reach the gate, blocked by the large pile of snow blocking both sides, not that you think you could’ve pushed it open in your current state; blocked from snow or not. 

You let your hand trace across the gate's bars as you walk towards the side of the fence. The pads of your fingers sting from the cold metal but you keep them where they are. As you move, they follow, moving from metal to brick. The only way into the sanatorium courtyard, you realize, is to climb over the stone fencing. 

A tired sigh leaves your body. You place your hands on the wall, palms stinging from the snow-covered surface. You lift your body, throwing your leg over simultaneously, climbing on top to straddle the snowy stone. The action uses more energy than you realistically have left so instead of gracefully landing on the other side of the wall you fall, directly onto your back. At least the pile of snow beneath you cushions your fall a tiny bit, but it still takes you a few minutes to recover your breath. 

Using the wall, you find your footing again. The snow falls from your clothes as you stumble towards the sanatorium. You don’t even know what you were expecting to discover here. You figured there might be people here. Maybe a construction crew, getting ready to tear the old building down. A custodian, forced to stay and take care of an abandoned building. Or on the slimmer side of chance, a large group of stable nurses and doctors that would offer you and your friends shelter and much-needed medical attention. However, the closer you get, the more you realize how fucked you are. Nobody is out here. And it was stupid to believe there would be. 

But you’ve come this far, and the chill that runs through your body borders on hypothermic potential. You reach the front doors, using your body to push the door open, shoulder first. It opens far easier than expected, and you fall to your hands and knees as it flies inwards. “Fuck.. me.” 

You don’t move from the floor, the opposite actually, you get closer to it, falling onto your back. You don’t even want to get up. No one is here. All your friends are probably dead back down by the lodge. What’s the point? At least this way you’ll have time to think over every choice that led you here, it’ll take a while for the cold to kill you since your feet are the only part of you still lying outside the building. From farther within the entry hall you hear a door open, the sound of steps echoing through the empty building. And though your heart rate picks up speed, you don’t move. Instead, you pray that whatever it is, will kill you quickly so you can be with your friends again. So you can be with Mike. 

“Who’s there? Whoever it is, just know I am armed and I am not afraid to shoot you. I have had one hell of a night and I am so not in the mood for.. whatever it is that you want.” Even with your heartbeat drumming against your ear canals, you still pick up the voice. A man's voice. Almost recognizable. You let your eyes close, murmuring the only thing you can think of like a mantra. Mike. Mike. Mike. Mike. 

“Holy shit. Y/n?” Mike? You turn your neck enough to see the man approaching. A sudden second surge of energy fills you, and you lift yourself into a sitting position to fully face the figure walking towards you. 

“M..mike?” 

“Holy- Oh my god, how are you- Are you okay?” He falls to his knees in front of you, dropping the gun and the lantern in his hands on the floor. His hands hover around you, scared to touch you. You notice that two of the fingers on his left hand are missing, replaced by a bandage soaked in blood.  Your hands are the first to make contact, landing on both sides of his dirty face.

“Are you real?” He nods, pulling you into a too-tight embrace. A stark contrast to his previous concern and reluctance to touch you. 

“Yes. Yes, I’m real. I’m so glad to see you. You’re alive.. holy shit I can’t believe you’re alive.”

“You look terrible” You wipe away some dirt from his face. Eyes wide as you try to convince yourself that he is actually in front of you. You had convinced yourself that he was dead, and now to see him in front of you alive and well - okay maybe not well but he’s not dead - it has your brain moving a mile a minute. There is so much you have to say. So much you have to explain to him. How do you explain to someone that his friend was sawed in half on the anniversary of his sister's death? Or how do you explain that the rest of his friends might ALSO be dead? And without sounding insane, how do you explain that you truly believe something is up on the mountain with you and that it might’ve followed you the entire way to the sanatorium? You can’t.  

“Well, I’m happy to see you too, baby.” He laughs breathily, unsteady. A laugh of disbelief. His way of coping has always been humor, even at the most inappropriate of times. Your features are probably the exact opposite of his uncertain smile. You pull him close again, practically pushing him to the ground, but his arms wrap around you and he straightens his back to keep the two of you upright. “Woah, I’m not going anywhere. I’m right here.”

You push your face into his shoulder, saturating the filthy, green jacket that he wears with tears. It stinks like cigar smoke, years of sweat buildup, and dirt. 

“Mike- Oh Mike,” your voice is muffled in his skin, pausing in between sobs to catch your breath. His arm wraps tighter around your waist, the other arm reaching up so his hand can rest in your tangled hair. “I’m so- I am so so sorry Micheal. I thought you were dead, I thought- I thought you died thinking I was angry. I’m so sorry, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. It’s okay. Don’t apologize. I’m just- I’m so glad you’re alive.” He kisses your temple, and as you raise your red face to look him in the eyes, he moves your hair out of your face. “We’re gonna get out of here, okay? Can you walk? God, you must be freezing. Did you come all the way from the lodge like this? Fuck, y/n, how are you even alive.” You shake your head, a silent confirmation that you don’t know how you’re alive either. 

He helps you to your feet, taking off the unfamiliar jacket and helping you into it. He then retrieves the lantern and the gun from the floor, “Here, can you hold this up?” You nod, and take the lantern from his hand. In the hand opposite of you, he holds the gun, and with the other, he intertwines his fingers with yours. “We're gonna get out of here. I am going to get you out of here, I promise.” He’s so certain, and your fear almost dissipates completely as he leads you farther into the sanatorium with a tight grip on your hand.

[nottsdarling]

Drunk Rambles

: ex!bf theo x reader

: word count ; 706

: cw: MNDI!!!, smut, drunk!theo, sexual languages, praise, body worship (f receiving), oral sex (f receiving), face riding, rekindling

: a/n! this is my first fic ever so I’m sorry if there’s any errors etc ^_^

┈┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈┈

The soft blankets fell against your legs as you got out of bed, investigating the continuous knocking and thumps at your dorm room door. Slender fingers reached out towards the brassy doorknob, twisting it with a slight creak. Your mouth fell agape. Standing (well rather swaying) infront of you was Theodore Nott, a man you swore to never interact with again. With a quick look, you slammed the door in his face just about when he was going to speak. Your almost limp body slide down the wooden door, unable to think straight.

Do I let him in? What do I do? Fuck, fuck, fuck!

Slowly pushing your body upwards, and straightening out a few strands of hair, you unlocked the door again. Theodore fell into your arms, slurring his words to the point where you couldn’t understand.

“I miss hic you… p-please… I- I need to-“

He spoke, mumbling and wiping his salvia all over your chest. Letting out a pitiful sigh, you dragged him towards your bed, pushing him underneath the covers.

“I… I need you… I need to tell you…”

Theo began speaking again, trying his best to coordinate his words together so that you would understand. His body instinctively scooted closer to yours, gravitating towards your touch. Burying his face in the crook of your neck, his breathing becoming uneven. He inhales deeply, savoring your scent. Oh how he loved how you smelt, your touch, everything. He eventually pulls away, mumbling something incoherently against the soft skin of your neck.

“What did you say? Theo?”

You whispered, your voice trembling ever so slightly. Your heart pounds in your chest, as his touch sent a shiver down your spine. Pushing his hand away from your thighs, you shook your head.

“You’re drunk. You’re drunk Theo, no.”

He nodded, acknowledging that he was in-fact under the influence. A drunken smile spread across his (handsome) face.

“But that doesn’t make anything… hic… less true, principessa.”

He mutters, his hand traveling down to your thighs again. You blushed, squeezing your thighs together against his large hand.

“You’re so beautiful… so hic pretty… I need you, bambina.”

Theo whispered, his voice an octave lower as his index finger began to rub your clit through your soaked panties. Letting a small moan slip, Theo felt his cock instantly harden. Slipping a finger into your wet hole, you let out a small whimper.

“You’re so fucking perfect… you always have been, so pretty and your body così bello.”

He spoke, his voice ringing out through your eardrums. Softly pulling down your shirt, he exposed your boobs. He almost came on the sight of them. Pulling his hand back, Theo sucked on his index finger, devouring the taste of your cunt. You didn’t know how you got in this position, but you didn’t care because it felt so fucking good. Slowly rocking your hips against Theodore’s mouth, you swore that it felt better than it used too.

“Ohh fuckk,”

You moaned out, your hands supporting your body by pressing up against the wooden headboard. Maybe because you were so pent up, or maybe you missed his mouth, but he had made you cum in under 6 minutes.

“T-Theo! Holy fuck… fuck fuck!”

Almost screaming out his name as you felt the knot in your stomach snap, letting all your juices and cum be licked up like a hungry man by Theo.

Letting Theo rest on your bare chest was something else. The spark between you two had been relit, emerging into a new flame of love and forgiveness. You missed him, just as much as Theo had missed you.

“You did so good, cara bella,”

Theo murmured into the skin of your left breast, his other hand resting on the right. You blushed, your fingers entwined with his soft locks.

“I missed you… I didn’t know what to do so I turned to drinking again… I’m sorry, forgive me,”

He begged, his eyes showing genuine emotion. You felt your heart throb, you had missed him too. It somewhat hurt to realize that this breakup was for the worst, and not the best.

“I’ll always love you, we’re soulmates, tesoro…”

To which you agreed with a gentle kiss on his forehead.

┈┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈┈

Reblogs, follows etc are appreciated!!!

Please do not repost my work on any platform w/o permission + credits.

Have an amazing day and/or nights my angels mwah!

┈┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈┈

[weirdgenetic-fuckup]

heyyy, can i ask for 80's Dave fingering reader under the table in a dinner please? Thanks!! <3

A/n: posting my drafts rn and then I will be trying to write more

Warnings: Smut, fingering (f receiving), oral (f receiving), I don't know how to tag this so if you think I missed anything let me know otherwise enjoy!

This was his first time meeting your parents, it was supposed to be perfect and it was stressing you out. Dave, of course, had the 'perfect' idea on how to help you relieve said stress.

You refused, you had a plan and you would stick to it, even if you were desperate for something to calm your mind and your plan meant refusing him.

Everything was going perfect. Close to dinner starting, before your parents arrived, Dave had backed off from his approach, letting you do what you felt you had to do and complying easily with your instructions.

When your parents got there he was pleasant with them, he knew they wouldn't like him because they didn't like, well, him. They didn't like his music, his persona, how he spoke. Really, they hated him, but they liked how he made you feel, even if they felt it was only temporary.

You'd made the perfect meal, with Dave's help of course -he went out and got groceries while you were cleaning and then cleaned up the mess you'd made while cooking, still thoughtful and helpful enough- and now you were seated with your parents in the dining room.

Despite what it seemed to you, Dave never let it go. You were stressed and it was always his job to help you when you were stressed or angry or feeling any sort of negative emotion, he was your boyfriend and that was one of his jobs as your boyfriend.

So, no, he never let it go. He set a table cloth on the table, an overly grand one that was definitely not needed for this dinner, however, his plans varied from yours.

It his everyone's lap so no one could see anything, especially not his hand. He knew your parents had noticed his hand on you, on your thigh, they didn't need to know he had two fingers buried knuckle deep inside you.

At first you'd tried to get him to stop, holding his hand in yours, guiding it back to your thigh or his own lap. However, as the conversation dragged on and your parents became more pushy about Dave and his career, asking questions they didn't need to be asking, degrading him subtly in so many words. Eventually, you just had to let it happen.

Dave was getting annoyed, so were you, and you'd been stressing the past week over this exact conversation.

You wore a dress, it wasn't hard for Dave to move your panties to the side. He moved slow, resting his arm on your thigh and using his wrist to keep his ministrations subtle and hidden from your parents, all while keeping up a polite smile with your dad across from him.

He'd curl his fingers, prodding that special spot and drawing noises up, threatening to leave you at any moment. He kept pulling and pushing his knuckles in and out of your hole, where there'd be the most stretch and chance to hear you.

You knew he loved hearing you, it's how he made it through tours where you couldn't come. He just needed to hear your sweet moans and he'd be done within minutes.

You wouldn't dare make a sound now, if you did you'd never be able to speak to your parents again, look at them again. You'd be disowned forever and a day.

Nevertheless, you could feel that burning ball building inside you, you couldn't ignore it and hoped it went away, not when Dave's fingers were working on you as they were.

The conversation was directed mostly towards Dave, your parents were using it as an opportunity to just get mad at him, politely of course.

But Dave... Dave, to put it nicely, was an asshole. He saw the effect he was having on you and needed to hear those sweet sounds he loved oh so much.

"We were actually planning on getting a dog, weren't we, sweetheart?" He asked sweetly, smiling tugging at his plump lips, those same lips you'd kissed a thousand times before, those lips you'd kill to have on you right this second.

Instead of jumping on him right then and there you gave a small nod with a smile to match.

"Go on," he continued, swiftly pulling his fingers from you just to watch you choke back a squeal, "tell your parents about that breed you'd been looking at." He suggested, watching you closely.

"I-I, um..." You trailed, unable to look your parents in the eyes.

You stood up, brushing your dress down and mumbling something about needing fresh air before walking off.

Your parents were confused as you left, wondering what happened to make you feel like that. Not that it would've been hard to put the blame on them, having asked such rude questions about the man you'd told them time and time again that you loved to him, nonetheless.

Dave excused himself, using his best sympathetic tone when saying he needed to go check on you.

You'd gone to your shared bedroom and the second Dave had closed the door behind himself he was on you, wrapping his muscular arms around you and pulling you tight to him, lips crashing against yours.

You tried to push him away but he just moved from your lips to your neck. "Davie-Davie, please! Please, Davie, we-we can't do this!" You tried to reason, hands planted firmly on his shoulders.

"Yes, we can, you just have to have faith, darling." He mused, guiding you backwards to the bed.

He sat you down on the edge of the bed and got on his knees in front of you, spreading your legs and tugging your panties down, giving him full access to your glistening folds.

He went right back to fingering you, only now his tongue made it even more unbearable, circling your clit and collecting your juices. You were so sweet on his tongue, delectable and those noises that had his mind running laps.

You could feel that knot getting dangerously close to snapping. Tears filled your eyes, body trembling as you struggling against Dave's touch, trying to keep you still enough for him. You just wanted to use him, or let him use you, which ever was easier.

You'd been driving yourself crazy with this dinner, you hadn't let yourself get too close to Dave and now that you finally let him in you couldn't take it, it was too much all at once.

You needed it, you needed him so bad.

You bit your lip so hard you drew blood, but it was worth it as you felt the wave of pleasure wash over you, that feeling of pure bliss where your body completely relaxed and you could just feel Dave with your whole being.

He didn't let you enjoy it for as long as you'd like, pulling away, pushing his fingers into his mouth and cleaning them of you before getting your dress right.

He rested his hands on your waist and looked up at you with sincere, warm eyes. "Everything is fine, you did great and you are so, so beautiful tonight, do you know that?" He said.

You had no idea what he was talking about or what he was doing. You wanted to questions him but then the door opened and took all of your attention.

It was your dad coming to check on you. Dave had heard him coming and knew he needed to cover, so he did, shining a smile at your dad as he came in.

"Don't worry, I've got her." He said, standing and pulling you to your feet, holding you close as your knees wobbled from the high he'd just brought you to.

Oh, how he loved you.

Oh, how he tortured you.

You had to sit through the rest of dinner with your parents totally commando in a dress, all while Dave sat completely fine next to you. Well, aside from the obvious tightness in his jeans.

[httpsdana]

Hi how are you, please can you do something with Pau Cubarsi and just something super sweet and fluffy x

Blush and Bliss~Pau Cubarsi

*Pictures are from Pinterest*

i enjoyed writing this so much. enjoy <3

request from here

master list -> part 2

players/drivers I write for

It’s a Friday night, and y/n finally convinced Pau to do a self-care evening with her. He was hesitant at first, but with after a little pleading and a playful pout, he caved, laughing as he said, “Alright, princesa, whatever you want.”

She set up everything in the bathroom, laying out face masks, lip masks, and even some under-eye patches. Pau looks at it all with wide eyes, a bit overwhelmed. “Are we really putting all of this on my face?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes, and you’ll love it!” she insisted holding up a fluffy headband. “Now sit down, handsome. This is going to be so relaxing.”

He chuckles, sitting on the edge of the tub. “If you say so. But only because my princesa wants to pamper me.” He lets her put the headband on, holding back a laugh as she adjust it to keep his hair out of his face.

"you look so cute" she pinched his cheeks, making him roll his eyes playfully, opposite to the blush that found its way on his cheeks

She started by applying a hydrating face mask to his skin, and Pau sits still for about ten seconds before leaning in, trying to steal a kiss. “Ah-ah,” she denys, pushing him back gently. “We can’t mess up the mask, Pau! Give it a few minutes.”

He pouts, feigning offense. “You’re so cruel,” he teases. “How am I supposed to sit here with you looking so cute and not kiss you?”

y/n laughs slightly, rolling her eyes. “You’ll survive. Let me just finish applying the mask.” Once it’s on, she grabs two pink lip masks, handing one to him. “Okay, now this one goes on your lips.”

Pau examines the lip mask with curiosity. “It’s… pink,” he says, chuckling. “Are you sure this is going to make me look good?”

“Of course!” she grins, peeling the backing off and helping him place it on his lips. “You’re going to be the most radiant man in Barcelona.”

He tries to speak but remembers the mask and just gives her an exaggerated thumbs-up, making her giggle. Then she puts on her own lip mask, sitting down beside him.

y/n sits there, scrolling through her phone, showing him funny memes and videos, and he’s trying to laugh without moving the mask. But after a few minutes, he scoots closer, eyes twinkling with mischief. She narrows her eyes at him. “Pau… don’t even think about it.” she mumbled under the mask

He feigns innocence, his eyes wide. “Think about what, cariño?” he said, his mask slipping a bit.

She gives him a playful glare. “You know what. No sneaking kisses. We need these to stay put.”

He pouts again, mumbling through the mask, “You’re so mean.” Then he adds in a dramatic tone, “I’m suffering, and you don’t even care. I just want one little kiss.”

“Patience,” she giggles. “Good things come to those who wait.” She pats his cheek, and he sighs, pretending to be heartbroken.

Eventually, the time is up, and y/n gently peels off the lip and face masks. Pau watches her carefully, his green eyes watching intensely every detail of her face as she gently helped him remove the masks.

He eagerly waited for her to finish so he can finally close the distance between them. y/n leaned in to inspect his face, admiring how soft his skin looks.

“There,” she say with a satisfied smile, running a finger along his jaw. “You look radiant, Pau. How do you feel?”

He grins, reaching up to touch his cheeks. “Like I’m glowing. Guess my princesa knows what she’s doing.”

She's about to respond when he suddenly grabs the back of her neck and pulls her close pressing a soft, lingering kiss to her lips. y/n laughs against him, feeling the warmth of his hands and the giddy happiness bubbling up in her chest. He pulls back with a mischievous grin. “Finally!” he says. “You have no idea how hard that was.”

She giggles, resting her forehead against his. “You survived. And now you’re all soft and pampered.”

He raises an eyebrow, clearly impressed with the results. “I hate to admit it, but you might be onto something with this self-care thing.”

“See?” she said in a teasing tone. “Next time, you won’t even need convincing.”

“Next time?” he laughs, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her into his lap. “Only if it means I get more time like this with you.” He brushes his nose against hers, his voice dropping to a soft whisper. “And maybe a few more of those kisses.”

She smiles, brushing a thumb over his bottom lip. “You’re lucky you’re cute, Pau. Otherwise, I’d make you wait even longer.”

“Oh, so I’m cute now?” he teases, his eyes gleaming with mischief, although his cheeks had turned into the darkest shade of red. “You didn’t seem to think I was cute when you were pushing me away earlier.”

y/n laughs at his words playfully rolling her eyes. “Yes, yes, you’re adorable. But let’s go finish our self-care night with some popcorn and a movie. I promise no more masks, just you, me, and maybe a blanket fort.”

He lights up at the idea, taking her hand and tugging you toward the living room. “That,” he says, squeezing her hand, “sounds perfect. As long as I get to hold my princesa the whole time.”

The two of them end the night snuggled up in a cozy blanket fort, laughing, sharing popcorn, and stealing plenty of kisses—face masks no longer in the way.

[kainuhsblog]

Mr. Choi from 2A • Jiung Choi

prompt         More Than Words Elementary gets the surprise of a lifetime when the kids figure out that the two kindest teachers for 4th and 5th grade are married. pairing          teacher!jiung x fem!reader genre           school teachers, established relationship, fluff warnings      mentions of food, playful banter, school word count    3,796 (this story wrote itself) a/n                 hi! i'm back! I have something written this time! jiung is my ultimate bias, so i’ve been itching to write something for him. please note that this fic will be told in 3rd pov, but kind of centric to none of the main characters, but to one of jiung’s students, emma! 

want more piwon posts from me? check out my fake texts here and here!

There are many things in the world that Emma loves. Her parents, for one –  obviously. They spoil her endlessly, and even gave her a little brother, so she loves them. 

Emma also loves trucks. She loves them simply because her dad always lifts her up to get in the thing. He even has to do a little stretch to get in himself.  Big trucks that make even her dad seem small are always fun. 

Third on the list – not that it has a particular order – will have to go to the bakery near her house. Ms. Lim makes the best cupcakes known to man, and her mom loves them just as much as she does, so they like to splurge on them every once in a while. 

Fourth; the quaint burger place lodged in an alleyway on that busy street Emma always forgets the name of. Every once in a while, her mom and dad take her (and her little brother, now) to the place, and she always manages to see her uncle manning the bar. She wonders if he works there. 

And last, but certainly not least; her 4th grade teacher Mr. Choi. Mr. Choi never enters the room without a fond smile on his face as he greets the class in the morning. He never lets them leave without some words of praise when they leave the class in the afternoon. 

Mr. Choi is very attentive, explaining things a million times over for everyone to understand (who knew there were different methods to learning how to multiply big numbers?) and is very interactive with his class. Mr. Choi is probably the kindest person Emma knows. 

If someone were to come up to her and shove a microphone and a camera in her face (because people do that now) and ask her who she thought the kindest person in the world was, her first answer would definitely be Mr. Choi. That’s just how good he is. 

Anyways, before the author starts her spiel on the guy, let’s get into the actual story – shall we?

The list of things that Emma loves in this world differ depending on what day you ask her. Her constants will always be her parents (and brother), trucks, Ms. Lim’s bakery, the burger place, and Mr. Choi from class 2A. 

Lately though, Emma thinks that a new constant might add to her list of things she loves in this world. The thought came to her mind halfway through the previous semester. 

୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨

At the beginning of her first semester in fourth grade, a new teacher for fifth grade arrived in bubbly fashion. With beautiful kind eyes and a charming smile; the new teacher tumbled her way into the lives of everyone at More Than Words Elementary School. 

Emma was one of the people who only entertained things within her bubble. As a bubble dweller, the only things she knew dwelled in her bubble with her. She didn’t know anything about new staff or teachers unless someone entered her bubble to tell her. Which is how she found out about the new teacher in the first place. 

She had many friends within the school who greeted her in the mornings, and her cousin Shelby was friends with her next door neighbor Tommy. Those two always brought her the gossip from their fifth grade circle. 

They were all hanging out on the playground for recess when Shelby mentioned it to Emma. Something along the lines of the nicest teacher ever just came to their school or something. Emma excused Shelby’s comments because the elder didn’t have Mr. Choi in fourth grade. 

Tommy described the woman like she hung the stars in the sky every single night for him to look at and ponder her. Shelby told him to write a book if he wanted to be that sappy. Emma laughed even if she didn’t get the reference all too well. 

For the rest of that week, the new teacher was all her fifth grade friends seemed to want to talk about. She stopped listening to them halfway through. Mr. Choi was the nicest teacher ever, so she wanted to see his competition with her own two eyes. 

If someone was listening to her thoughts, then they made quick plans, because the next day called for a multitude of rain and the absence of half of the students in her small school. Emma still went to school because her mom and dad had jobs to go to despite the rain, and her grandma was out of the country so no one her parents trusted could watch their kids. 

She walked happily to her class, thinking of the pastries she would smell in the afternoon (as it was the day her and her mom went to the bakery) when she spotted a beautiful woman standing outside her class door talking to Mr. Choi. Her smile stretched like the sun on the horizon as it rose in the morning. A warmth like no other had hit Emma the moment she saw it. 

Emma slowed her pace as she neared the classroom, and she heard the familiar words of reassurance from her teacher to the lady in front of him to ease her worries about whatever she stressed about. The kind words sounded a bit different in Emma’s ears though. 

Emma greeted the adults like she was taught, and both Mr. Choi and the teacher greeted her with similar waves of kindness. The other teacher even knew her name. Why would the other teacher know her name?

Emma tilted her head in confusion and stood before the two teachers. The lady laughed and nudged Mr. Choi to get him to notice. Then, the teacher moved her left hand from the books she clung so tightly to her chest and extended it to the little girl before her. 

“Hi Emma Kang, I’m the new fifth grade teacher Ms. (last name). It’s very nice to meet you!” The teacher introduced, and the shock couldn’t come fast enough as it morphed Emma’s face. 

The lady before her was the kind teacher Shelby and Tommy told her about. Emma shook Ms. (last name)’s hand, feeling the familiar weight of an engagement band (her aunt Nina had just gotten engaged last month, so she knows how it feels on someone’s hand), and told the teacher that it was nice to meet her as well. 

Turns out, Mr. Choi and Ms. (last name) were discussing the merge of their classrooms for the day so that they can watch movies and play games. None of the other fifth grade teachers wanted to do such things with their classes, (as it was still the beginning of the semester) but Mr. Choi thought it would be fun to let his kids relax for one day. 

୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨

Rainy days had now meant joint classes after the success of the first one that day, and Emma realized that she hoped for rainy days a lot more, so that she can see Ms. (last name) again and again and again. This was when she thought of the possibility of a new constant on her list. 

Emma thinks that Ms. (last name) felt like the sun, especially when she brightened up the classrooms. Ms. (last name) was extra involved in just about everything, and Emma found herself wanting to join a few things just to see the bubbly teacher again. 

Now, you (as the reader) might be wondering where I’ll fit the synopsis into this story, and I’m getting there. Anyways, back to the story. 

Emma also notices how much livelier Mr. Choi seemed to get whenever Ms. (last name) would come around their area, for rainy days or not. The two teachers seemed really close, like they were friends before working together. Well, that’s how Emma saw it. Shelby and Tommy seemed to disagree though. 

The two fifth graders often talked about how they coax small bits of information out of their homeroom teacher whenever they all can’t seem to understand a particularly hard subject (which is usually math.) Ms. (last name) never got into great detail about a lot of stuff, but she always talked about her fiance with a sense of “love” and “comfort”. 

Emma knew about those feelings and those words, (she’s 9 for crying out loud) but no one ever seemed to explain the concept of love to her in a way where she understood or related to it, so topics like these had her confused.  When she asked what that had to do with anything, Shelby exclaimed that she had a feeling that Mr. Choi and Ms. (last name) were a couple. 

Emma sat there for a long while trying to see things from her cousin’s point of view. Sure, they were friendly and got along well, but a couple? They didn’t seem like a couple. She’s seen a few couples in her nine years on this earth, and her teachers don’t act as gross as those couples. 

Besides, they both arrive in separate cars. From the couples Emma has seen, they usually arrive in the same car, do they not? Her mom and dad are almost always in the same vehicle. Aunt Nina and her fiance Sam never leave without each other at events. Uncle Darren and Aunt Lily only have one car. They drop Shelby to school in it everyday. 

Tommy and Shelby bickered back and forth whilst Emma was left with the most confusing theory of her life. 

Emma decided that day that there was no way Mr. Choi and Ms. (last name) were a couple. Well, that was until dinnertime, when she decided to ask the one couple she constantly has to see. 

୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨

“Mom, dad, can people be a couple even if they don’t hug and hold hands and kiss and arrive at places in the same car?” She asked them once her food was graced and her mom told her to dig in. 

Both of her parents stopped their utensils from reaching their mouths to look at their daughter, seeing her staring back at them with a curious glint in her eyes. 

“Sweetie, I think we’re gonna need more context than that.” Her mom answered. 

“Your mom’s right, princess. What brought this on so suddenly?” Her dad added on. 

“Well, you guys know my favorite teacher Mr. Choi right?” She started off, watching her parents put down their eating utensils to give her their undivided attention. 

“Yes we do, what about him?” Her dad asked. 

“And you guys know the pretty teacher I told you about a while ago? Ms. (last name)?” She inquired. 

“Yes we do sweetheart.” Her mom answered, picking up her son’s spoon to help him eat his rice. 

“Okay, so today at recess I mentioned to Shelby and Tommy how I thought the teachers were friends before working together because of how well they seem to just – what’s the word I’m looking for?” 

“Coexist?” 

“No not that one … although that one is really good, thanks mom.” 

“Of course!” 

“Cooperate then?” Her dad chimed in, finally picking his utensil up. 

“Oh yes that word! Thank you dad, you’re so smart! Anyways, yes I mentioned it to them, and then Shelby said something about how she thinks they’re a couple? So then I sat there to think about it and that doesn’t make sense? How are they a couple when they don’t kiss and hug and hold hands and go everywhere together and use the same car and have kids?” Emma rambled, getting more confused than ever as she’s explaining it to her parents. 

“Maybe they don’t act that way because kids are present, princess.” Her dad supplied. 

“Dad, you and mom were literally kissing in the kitchen … with me present!” Emma rebutted. 

“That’s because you’re our kid. There’s a difference when it’s your own kid,” Her mom informed. 

“And besides, they work together don’t they? Why act like a couple at work? That’s not very professional.” Her mom continued. 

“You can’t do stuff like that at work?” Emma asked incredulously. 

“No you can’t Emma.” Her dad replied. 

“Wow, you learn something new everyday. What about the car thing then, they’re married and don’t come to work together? That’s so odd. You guys ride to work together all the time.” Emma questioned. 

“Emma first of all, not all couples are married,” Her mom told her, ignoring the gasp of disbelief that escapes her nine year old. 

“Secondly, they probably don’t even live together. Of course they’ll come to work in different cars.” Her mom continued. 

Emma’s shocked beyond words, her brother Eric wasn't paying attention, just eating his food and replaying the opening for power rangers in his mind as he ignored them. Her dad’s just thinking about how all of this could’ve been avoided if they just gave her electronics and discovered the weird stuff on the internet in the first place. He pushed the thought from his mind though, his wife said no so he sticks beside her. 

“Wait, so you’re telling me that couples aren’t married and don’t live together and can’t act gross and work?” Emma asked. 

“Your Aunt Nina and her fiance Sam aren’t married, and they’re a couple.” Her dad answered. 

“They’re practically married.” Emma replied.

“Wait, but do you guys think they’re a couple? An unmarried one who doesn't live together?” Emma followed up. 

She saw her mom and dad rack their brains to see if they remembered anything out of the ordinary between the fourth and fifth grade teachers that night. And then she heard them agree with her crazy claim. 

The next day, when she took Shelby’s side in the argument, their conversations shifted forever. The three friends had made it their new mission to find out if their teachers were really together. 

୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨

In between that time, the semester had ended, and the long awaited break had begun. Her mom and dad finally sat her down and told her about the different types of couples and all that jazz. They also took her to see her grandparents, where she stayed with all of her cousins for two weeks. 

Emma, Shelby and Tommy met regularly to talk about their random findings, even during their break. Nothing was bigger than the time Emma saw them both at Ms. Lim’s bakery though. The two teachers didn’t notice her, and she didn’t try to get noticed as she saw them share a slice of cheesecake and basically smiled at each other for five minutes. 

Through it all though, the mission seemed to be leading them practically nowhere. The new semester started with Shelby and Tommy telling Emma how Ms. (last name) came back with a new ring on her finger, signifying that she finally got married. 

Tommy told her to check Mr. Choi’s hands to see if he had a ring on as well to confirm their suspicions. Mr. Choi always had rings on his fingers though, so that plan was fruitless. 

For days on end, Emma tried to figure out if there was a new ring on Mr. Choi’s finger, and for days on end it seemed as if nothing was out of the ordinary. 

Just as Emma was about to give up though, the answers to their questions fell right into her lap. 

୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨

It was a rainy Thursday, and like all rainy days, Emma gets dropped off to school earlier than usual. Emma told her parents goodbye at the entrance of the school, watching her dad’s truck drive off with her mom waving at her wildly from the window. 

Emma began to turn around to head inside before hearing the familiar purr of her teacher’s SUV pulling into the parking lot. She then stopped fully once she saw her teacher help Ms. (last name) out of the car?!?!!?!?! 

Mr. Choi and Ms. (last name) just came out of the same car. Mr. Choi is helping Ms. (last name) with her bags. Mr. Choi – OH MY GOODNESS DID MR. CHOI JUST KISS MS. (LAST NAME)’S FOREHEAD? were the thoughts that ran through Emma’s mind once she saw what transpired. 

Emma wanted to stand there and rack her brain to find the sense in all of what had happened, but the teachers were both coming towards the entrance? Oh my goodness, Emma Kang. Go and run into a hole right now. 

Emma picked up her pace and starts to walk away, but the warm tilt of a harmonious tone traveled to her ears as Ms. (last name) greeted her from her walk toward the door. Emma stopped like a deer in headlights, and turned slowly to greet the two teachers. 

My goodness, they’re even sharing an umbrella. Emma Kang, for the first time in her life, just wants to not be a curious kid. Having to see this from her favorite teachers isn’t good for her psyche. 

“Emma Kang, it’s been a while. How are you doing this morning? Are you ready for our rainy day movie session? I didn’t expect the rain to happen so quickly into the semester, but man am I excited for our class to get together again and have some fun. Do you want to help Mr. Choi and I choose the first movie? We’ve been arguing about the lineup all –” 

“(First name), you’re rambling.” Mr. Choi interrupted, and only one thing entered Emma’s mind like a blaring siren once she saw Ms. (last name) stop and giggle about it, apologizing to the kid. 

“You two are married.” Emma blurted out in the midst of Ms. (last name)’s apology, causing the two teachers to freeze up at the accusation – no, the declaration. 

They both rubbed their necks in tandem; Ms. (last name) laughing nervously and suddenly finding interest in the school motto placed on the wall beside them. Mr. Choi looked at his wife, and then looked at his (now unfortunate) brightest student.

“You two are married right? Mr. Choi kissed your forehead and you guys got out of the same car and you guys are even holding pinkies over the handle of Ms. (last name)’s bag.” Emma asked, pointing out her deductions to the newlyweds before her. 

The air stilled once she continued on with her findings, almost laughing at the fact that they immediately let go of each others’ pinkies. Mr. Choi told Emma to follow them, walking from the entrance and to the classroom of 2A. 

Emma watched as they both started to unpack the bags, placing stuff here and there and working together like they’ve been doing this for years. Emma watched a new level of their cooperation unfold on that rainy thursday. 

After they had set up everything, Ms. (last name) walked over to Mr. Choi, and pulled at his blazer to get his attention. They had a discussion with wide eyes and ragged whispers for about five minutes before Mr. Choi raised his hands in defeat. That’s when Emma noticed that he forwent the rings he usually donned, one simple band on his left ring finger catching the light in the room. 

“I guess the cat’s out of the bag now.” Ms. (last name) said after a few moments of awkward silence. 

Emma’s eyes widened to the size of saucers once she realized that they were admitting to her declarations. 

“You guys really are married?” She carefully asked. 

“Yes, yes we are. We recently tied the knot during the break.” Mr. Choi answers, stifling his laughter once he sees confusion slide across his student’s face. 

“What does tying a knot have to do with your marriage?” Emma confusingly questioned.

“It’s an expression. One of the many ways of saying you got married without actually saying it.” Ms. (last name) replies, pinching her husband for laughing. 

“Oh.” Is all Emma said in response. 

The adults studied her face for any odd reactions from Emma Kang, who started to have another mental battle with herself. 

“We actually wanted to tell you and the other kids about it later on.” Mr. Choi supplies helplessly. 

That didn’t seem to work though, as Emma continued to just … blankly stare at them. 

“Are you upset, Emma Kang?” Ms. (last name) asked after almost three minutes of heavy silence. 

Then Emma blinks a few times, looking up at them with something close to joy swimming in her eyes. Mr. Choi and Ms. (last name) let out the breath they didn’t even know they were holding. 

“Upset? This is the best news I’ve gotten all school year. Why would I be upset when the two nicest people in the world are married?” Emma exclaims. 

“I thought you’d be upset that we didn’t say anything.” Mr. Choi replied. 

“I thought you had a crush on Mr. Choi, to be honest.” Ms. (last name) replied at the same time. 

“I’m nine.” Emma deadpanned. 

“When I was nine, I had a crush on my music teacher. I don’t see how that excuse is relevant.” Ms. (last name) said. 

“(First name) you were just an odd kid.” Mr. Choi followed up. 

Emma chuckled when she saw Ms. (last name) hit Mr. Choi on the arm for his comment. 

“You who was crushing over Sam from ‘Danny Phantom’ at that exact age, puh-lease.” Ms. (last name) accused. 

“At least she and I were closer in age than you and your old shriveled up music teacher.” Mr. Choi responded. 

“Sam isn’t even real.” Ms. (last name) said.

“Neither was your chance with that wrinkly old music teacher.” Mr. Choi replied. 

“He was 25 oh my goodness Jiung, stop calling him old.” Ms. (last name) exclaimed. 

“Even worse.” Mr. Choi replied. 

The adults stopped their playful banter when they heard Emma cracking up from her seat. 

“You guys are the sweetest.” She replied once she stopped laughing, shocked at the fond looks that stretched their smiles wide at her.

୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨ 

The rainy day ended up with Emma harboring their secret for them, a lot of movies, and a kid crashing from a sugar rush after sneakily eating too much candy. 

Later that semester, the teachers decided to tell their class separately about their marriage, which breaks another spout of gossip between Emma, Shelby and Tommy. The news spread through More Than Words Elementary like wildfire that day. 

Questions were thrown at the couple for weeks to come after that, and a new quest (bet) was formed between the kid trio. Guessing when they’d have their first kid. 

Emma now helped the kind teachers set up for movie days whenever it rained, and a new constant had been added to Emma’s long list of things she loved.  Her parents (and brother), trucks, Ms. Lim’s bakery, the burger place, Ms. (last name) and Mr. Choi from Class 2A. That was her list of constants.

[takamiwife]

I LOVEYOURWRITING SO MCUHHHHH

Could i request hawks x a tomboy reader Whos taller then him and loveeees to tease him? Hcs? >:]

YOURE SO SWEETTTTT AWWWWWW

getting cuteness aggression with my mooties

💌 this is slightly nsfw, mdni please! <3 💌

ANYWAYS OF COUWSEEEEE here’s some cutesie little hc’s THIS IS SO FUN TOO BC I GREW UP A TOMBOY

keigo is 5”8, which isn’t insanely short, but in your guys’ relationship, he’s the shorty

oh did you think he was insecure about his girlfriend being taller than him? babe, its the absolute opposite. he enjoys feeling smaller in your arms, but he also loves being the big spoon and having more to cuddle of you!!! like bro wants to recreate this (literally does not matter how much taller you are than him, he just wants to do this):

plus, he can’t complain. he’s booby height™️. bro goes in for a hug and gets a face full of titties. he’s in heaven

or being able to hug you and look up at you with a smile while his wings flapped and flittered

not only THAT, but omg?? you’re a tomboy too??

he’s purposely started buying his hoodies and shirts bigger so that they fit you comfortably since you guys share a similar sense of style

when you two first started dating, you were playing a shared favorite video game together and you started fucking demolishing someone verbally in a lobby and keigo looked like this bc he knew his lil ass was next (he prayed for days like this)

(this is such projection lol) you love yourself and your style, but sometimes you can’t help but look at other girls or old photos of keigo with models that the media absolutely blew up and you can’t help but feel.. not ‘classically’ feminine enough. you had never brought it up, thinking you’d sound silly, bc he told you how stunning you were every chance he got, and you already could barely handle compliments. but one day, you saw a picture of the two of you at a party, and keigo was looking up at you with a look in his eyes you’ve never seen head on before (he looked at you like this constantly, but you had never noticed). he looked completely enamored, like you were the most beautiful thing in the world. that’s one of your favorite pictures now

but he truly thinks everything about you is so sexy

you know this and take full advantage of it of course

for example, when keigos cooking, you love coming over, leaning down so your chest rests on his shoulder, your hands on his arms while you remark how good it looks/smells and he absolutely freezes up

you continue to ask him questions about it all while he just keeps his head down and continues to chop the food up, fast enough to where he could damn near chop his finger off

one day you took a pair of his boxers and wore it with baggy jeans that sagged enough to show them off, paired with a baggy shirt. you went into the living room, “hey, look’it this, what do you think?” you ask, lifting up your shirt to show part of your torso and the waistline of his boxers. his. boxers. while his mind raced with how goddamn perfect you looked, all he could choke out was a “looks- looks really good, babe” while looking like this:

on one of the few occasions that you wear a dress, let alone heels, you debated finding some flats to wear, not wanting to be any taller than him than you already were. “put on the heels” “kei, i’ll be towering over you” “THATS THE POINT!!!!! PUT THEM ON PLEASEPLEASEPLEA-“ you wore the heels

bro is equally scared and horny when you’re mad at him

one of your favorite ways to tease him is when you lean down to his height, acting like you’re gonna kiss him, but grabbing something behind him instead. or, vice versa, acting like you’re grabbing something and kissing him instead. makes him feel like the lord truly blessed him

one day when you guys were arguing, you took a picture of him from your perspective, which no matter how much the difference is, it humbled him. you continued to pull it out anytime you two would fight

he loves when you wear muscle shirts because arms. arms. arms. ARMS!!!

he’s lowkey jealous bc your fit and shoe game is so much better than his. believe me, his fans make that known too (we’ve all seen the canon outfits bro)

when somethings on a high shelf, he’s stopped using his feathers to get it and has just asked you to get it for him