#really trying to get him down and stuff...always have trouble sometimes when it comes to drawing him =3=;;;

[jumpingjoltiks]

Um hiii!! Could I request an x reader for ingo and emmet (seperately) with a reader who is autistic but like. REALLY masks? Like a level of masking where the boys don't even know that they're autistic at first, and they're VERY different when they aren't out in public/don't feel the need to mask. I love ur writing btw >_<!!!

AAAA Thank you smmm! I’m so happy you’ve enjoyed my work! <3 <3 <3

I’ve already written a little bit about the twins being autistic already, so I’m happy to get to finally write some x reader stuff to go with it!

Biiiiig mood. I've spent most of my life masking, so I think a lot of this will probably come from my own experiences. I ended up making this a few different sections instead of just one, all coming out of different ideas I had. :)

The twins with someone who is also autistic, but masks heavily

Ingo Gets It. He understands the fear and the pressure to fit in. Emmet doesn’t, but he tries his best to respect your decision (though, secretly, he wishes you’d be more yourself. Both boys love when you’re being the most authentic version of you, but Emmet really wants to see it all the time).

Being actually comfortable around them takes a while (as it would with anyone) – its hard work to decondition yourself like that, to convince yourself you’re really, genuinely safe being yourself – but the twins’ (especially Emmet’s) refusal to mask is enormously helpful in this regard. Their unabashed devotion to being exactly who they are is inspiring.

Emmet devotedly listens to your infodumping, especially if it’s something he’s also interested in. Ingo is thrilled to find someone else who will listen to him too. Late in the evening, when Ingo is cooking and you’re all three in the kitchen together, you all talk like no one has ever looked at you strangely before – open and honest and genuinely excited just to share knowledge and enjoy this moment together.

There’s a certain amount of bluntness between you three, but none of you really mind. If hurtful words are ever said, you can be sure that they weren’t really meant to be cruel. You can always talk things out. Emmet, in particular, has trouble with his straightforward attitude, and sometimes says things that come out wrong – do you as well? He knows how hard it can be to find the right way to say things.

And if you don’t feel like spending time together right now, the twins understand that too. There have been plenty of days when one or the other will come home and lock themselves in their room for a while, just to cool down. If you should come home from your job or a grocery run and need some time, they’ll handle the rest.

Decompression

Would it surprise you to know that it’s Emmet who catches on first? There’s a good reason for that! He’s had a lifetime of keeping an eye on his brother, who also used to heavily mask.

Your own tells are different then Ingo’s, to be sure, but they’re there regardless.

After a tough day, you’re taking the subway home. He notices that your posture and gait are different & your expression is stiffer. You’re clinging to your sense of self-control.

He’s got things he needs to attend to, but you’re a dear friend… your wellbeing comes first, he decides. Emmet doesn’t hesitate to fall into step next to you as you traverse through the station.

“Good afternoon! Are you doing alright?”

You know he’s not one for small talk… so what is he doing? The flash of a puzzled look crosses your face before you smile up at him. It’s humiliating, but you can’t seem to summon up words right now. This will have to do.

Emmet knows smiles. Yours is tight and strained, not at all like your usual smile. And you haven’t answered. He doesn’t like this at all. All signs are pointing to a systems crash.

“Your engine is overheated. I can tell. Do you need a place to step aside for maintenance? My office isn’t far.”

You stare at him blankly, trying to parse exactly what kind of metaphor he’s making.

But you’re too overstimulated and tired to put too much thought into it. Eventually, you sigh and nod. He leads you through the crowd with swinging arms and legs, and people part before him.

The office is an open space that is fastidiously tidy. A sofa is tucked against one wall, opposite is a set of shelves with all kinds of books and files neatly arranged. A pair of matching desks are stationed toward the back of the room. You’ve never been in here, but somehow you instinctively know that this is a safe place for you.

“I have a mini fridge. You are welcome to any of the snacks and cold waters I have. There are also noise cancelling headphones if you want. I know that Gear Station can be verrrrry noisy when overstimulated.”

You think that’s the longest stretch of words you’ve ever heard Emmet say, and you can only stare up at him wordlessly in response. You didn’t realize he had you figured out. Shame threatens to creep in, but then he smiles as he holds out a bottle of ice water to you. He smiles like he knows. There isn’t a single trace of pity or belittlement in it, only understanding.

You take the bottle of water with a small, genuine smile of your own. It’s the first one you’ve had all day.

When you sit down on the couch, Emmet takes off his coat and places it over your shoulders. It’s pretty big on you… but it’s also really heavy. You hadn’t realized it was weighted this whole time. The pressure feels nice, and you bury yourself into it. Emmet seems pleased, like he knew this would happen.

“I am going to do some paperwork at my desk. Would you like the lights off?”

You nod wordlessly and he flicks the light switch off in response. The only light in the room is the warm glow of a desk lamp, focused down onto his work station and away from you. Even the faint hum of electricity that would usually come out of a lamp like that is silent, which is an enormous relief.

The only sound for the next hour is Emmet’s pen near silently sweeping across the pages of his work. You stay quiet and buried under his coat, eyes closed and dozing somewhere between sleeping and waking. You feel safe.

After what feels like an age, you shift from under the coat and re-emerge, feeling much better. Emmet’s eyes flick up to you.

“Do you feel any better?” he asks. His voice is quiet.

“Yes.” You answer, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

He cuts you off. “Do not apologize. Ingo and I have spent many afternoons doing the same. I’m just glad I was there to offer help.”

From that point on, things are… different between you and the twins. Emmet must have told his brother about what happened, because Ingo is more open around you.

You’ve been friends for a long time, but something seems to have unlocked now. The three of you quickly catch like a struck match.

Parallel Play

You spend a lot of time over at their place, and they at yours. Expect Ingo to politely ask if he or Emmet or both can come spend time with you.

This worried you at first, when you were still friends and not yet dating, but the twins don’t actually want your attention, per say. They just want to be in the same room as you while they do their own thing. Not having to “host” takes so much pressure off of you that you wonder why anyone entertains any other way.

Ingo will be reading, curled up in one of your chairs or on a couch, so still you’d think he was asleep if not for the intermittent turn of a page. Emmet is reviewing battle plans and notes, spread out across your table, one leg bouncing. Occasionally, he gets up to pace and mutter to himself, not looking at either you or his brother. You’re working on one of your hobbies in the living room. Not one of you bothers the others. It’s… peaceful. And nice, just having them unobtrusively nearby.

Do you stim? They have a cache of puzzle-y, twisty toys and clickers in a drawer. You’re more than welcome to them, or to anything else you need.

Eventually, if you’d like, you can curl up with Ingo underneath the weighted blanket he’s got spread across his lap. He’ll swing an arm around you without looking up from his book, and you listen to his heartbeat and steady breathing as you nod off.

Or Emmet might come over to you and quietly offer you a warm mug of hot chocolate. The two of you sit back-to-back in silence, sipping your drinks and working on your respective projects.

How nice it is, you think, to spend time with those who understand.

[fastfists]

Felt like drawing my boi again...nothing much to this JUST another outfit or something XD

[avelera]

Man, there’s all these little beats in OFMD S2 1-3 where people keep EXPECTING Stede to be upset or horrified about Ed’s actions and then he’s just. Not. In a way that reminded me of how a lot of fanon kept softening Stede into someone who doesn’t swear and is horrified at Ed for setting those ships on fire when imo to my eyes he was horrified for Ed because Ed was still so clearly distressed about it.

- Zheng Yi Sao asks Stede how he’s doing now that he knows Ed did horrible things to his crew and there’s this beat and Stede just pivots to, oh yeah, sometimes Ed is troubled. Like it didn’t occur to him to be upset on the crew’s behalf he’s worried about Ed.

- Izzy keeps trying to spare Stede’s feelings and cover up Ed’s spiral, but Stede clocked what was going on with Ed immediately and wasn’t the least bit intimidated or bothered. The knives brought the room together. Of course Ed’s trying to burn the world down or die trying. Duh. And I genuinely don’t think the STUFF in the Revenge mattered even a fraction to Stede as much as the signs of Ed’s breakdown broke his heart. It’s just STUFF, who cares.

- Lucius had to SPECIFICALLY call out Stede for not being surprised or bothered by what happened to him. What Ed did. Stede has to almost consciously remind himself to express polite concern. He just doesn’t actually care, instinctively or automatically, about what happened to Lucius. Part of it is he blames himself more than Ed. Part of it is he just doesn’t care, Ed is the priority.

They’re little blink and you’ll miss it pauses in some cases. Micro-expressions. The absence of a reaction. But honestly, I will scream it to the end of time, Stede is not some nonviolent creampuff scared or upset by Ed’s evil ways. He wants to join Ed in the atrocities. The man ran away to become a pirate. He asked if Lucius was taking notes during a murderous raid.

Stede’s at least a little on some kind of whackadoodle pirate comedy neurodivergence spectrum to the point where he actually really actually struggles to empathize with people, even people he cares about!, if their feelings conflict with his hyperfixation (piracy) and the love of his life (Ed Teach). He’s always, ALWAYS going to pick Ed over Lucius or Izzy or his crew or even his own feelings, if the option is there. He will literally throw himself overboard to get to Ed’s side. No pause. No consideration of anyone else or even his own safety.

Stede sometimes seems to have to consciously remind himself things like, oh yeah, the crew, I need to see to them. Not because he’s heartless or doesn’t care, but because it takes a bit of conscious effort for him to see beyond the laser-focused spotlight of what and who he does care most about, he has to remind himself of social niceties and other people’s feelings (just see him running away in the first place!) when he gets an idea in his head. It’s as if he had to train himself to consciously care about some things other people care about and as a neurodivergent person myself, that felt very familiar in a comedically writ large sort of way. I’d even argue that’s where all his aristocratic social niceties come from. They were his guidebook for how to do things “right” in a world that otherwise made no sense to him outside his hyperfixations. He practiced being a person through the aristocratic training because it was all so foreign to him from the start, including caring, actually caring, about the needs of others. Not because he’s consciously evil or consciously a jerk. The instinct just isn’t there unless he practices at it until it becomes reflex to ask how others are doing, because on his own his brain just doesn’t really notice or care.

I just… hope the fandom notes and has as much FUN as I do noticing all the little moments where even people inside the story of OFMD expect Stede to act in a normal way and instead he remains unhinged, laser-focused on Ed.

Stede’s not just an Ed apologist, he truly doesn’t blame Ed for any of it. He blames only himself. He doesn’t always voice this but he really really only cares about anyone else including the crew as a DISTANT second and he has to consciously REMIND himself to do so. He is able to rally to take action, to care about their physical needs like safety during the rescue, but he still struggles, deeply struggles, to remember to show empathy in a non-performative way for anyone except his special person, Ed.

Stede’s not a creampuff, not a nice guy, not some emotionally or morally perfect angel. He has to consciously practice caring about literally anything else but what he wants to do and his special person. And to me that’s a thousand times more interesting than shoving him in a box labeled “the blond, pacifist do-gooder good guy” in their relationship.

[dreamdrbbles]

TRUTH OR...DARE?

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you’re a cheater babe, sawry!

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: aaron pierre as himself & the black!fem reader as you.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: heavy smut, oral (female receiving), adultery, protected sex, dirty talk, and some more stuff. also, please do not try this at home, pretty babies. minors, do not interact.

It had been four years since you stepped foot in a club, and it showed. Marriage had introduced your social life to a bright red octagon, halting any late nights out or wild adventures with friends. But when your girls planned an impromptu trip to New Orleans to celebrate your big promotion at work, you couldn’t say no. You needed the break, no, you deserved it. You were especially grateful they chose a spot that fit your aesthetic. The club was classy, with dim lighting that set a sultry tone and a strict over-25 entry policy. The drinks were strong, the music was hitting just right, and the men? Fine as hell. You were married—somewhat happily, but there was no harm in looking. Right?

“Ooh! Let’s play truth or dare!” Ashlee’s voice cut through the bass-heavy beat of Glorilla rapping about her love for being outside.

Her mischievous grin told you everything you needed to know: trouble was coming. You and Layla exchanged a knowing look, silently agreeing that your friend was already on one. The three of you had been thick as thieves since college, and truth or dare had a history of bringing chaos into your lives. It was never really truth or dare—it was dare or dare, and Ashlee’s ideas always toed the line between bold and outrageous. “Ash, you need to put the Casamigos down. I see you already on some bullshit,” you said, side-eyeing her as she poured another round of tequila shots.

“I’m not!” she defended, her voice dripping with feigned innocence. “But since you got so much to say… truth or dare?” Your competitive spirit flared instantly. Ashlee knew how much you hated backing down from a challenge. She fixed you with a smirk, her eyes glinting with the kind of energy that let you know she’d already thought this through.

“Oh, what the fuck… dare,” you said, waving her on. You figured she’d keep it simple; a dance with a stranger, getting a man’s number, something light. But you should’ve remembered who you were dealing with. Ashlee’s grin widened, wicked and full of intent.

“I dare you to have a one-night stand.” You nearly choked on your lemon drop. “Excuse me?” Ashlee didn’t flinch. She just crossed her arms, leaning back in her chair with the confidence of someone who knew she’d just dropped the gauntlet. “This heffa is crazy.” you muttered under your breath, wiping your mouth as you set the glass down. You shot her a look that could’ve burned through steel. She knew you were married. She’d been standing right there when you said “I do,” the one who held your bouquet and straightened your veil before you walked down the aisle. Sure, Ashlee had never liked Derrick—she thought he was controlling and boring, but this? This was outrageous. “Daring me to commit adultery is insane. No,” you said firmly, shaking your head.

But Ashlee didn’t back down. She leaned forward, her elbows on her knees, locking eyes with you. “It’s not like you’re happy with Derrick anyway.” she teased, her voice just loud enough for you and Layla to hear over the music.

You stiffened. Ashlee had struck a nerve, and she knew it.

You looked down at your drink, swirling it in the glass as the weight of her words settled over you. Your marriage wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t great either. Derrick had been distant lately, and the spark between you had faded into routine. You loved him… but sometimes you wondered if that was enough. Layla cut in, sensing the tension. “Ash, come on. That’s a little much, don’t you think?” The most logical of your friend trifecta added, bringing some levity to the situation. “Fine, fine.” Ashlee said with a shrug, raising her hands in mock surrender. “But if you don’t take this dare, then you have to at least… flirt with someone. You’ve been locked up in that marriage too long. Have a little fun.” You sighed, your sense of spontaneity battling with your sense of loyalty. It wasn’t like flirting was cheating… was it?

You tilted back your glass, letting the last of your drink slide down your throat, the burn of the vodka sharp and unforgiving. The cocktail glass hit the table with a decisive clink as you set it down, and the tension at your table crackled in the air. Your best friends were watching you closely, Ashlee with a look of smug challenge, and Layla with quiet pleading in her eyes, silently urging you to stay grounded. Tonight, you knew you were about to break one of their hearts. Would it be the devil on your shoulder or the angel? Taking a deep breath, you pushed back from the table, standing to your feet.

The movement was smooth, deliberate, almost as if you were psyching yourself up for the dare. You smoothed your hands down your dress, tugging it slightly to make sure it covered what needed covering—but there was no hiding the bold tattoo on your thigh: a coiled snake intertwined with roses. That tattoo was a relic of your younger, wilder days, when you were eighteen, impulsive, and drunk on a spring break trip you’d never forget.

Back then, you were reckless, bold, and free. For a brief moment, the memory of that version of yourself stirred something deep inside. “Flirt with a random man, got it.” you said, nodding as if to convince yourself. Your voice carried a mix of determination and resignation, a subtle reminder that you didn’t back down from dares. The beat of the club vibrated through your chest as you scanned the crowd, searching for your unsuspecting target. A few pairs of eyes lingered on you as you stepped away from the table, the confidence in your stride undeniable, even if you were faking it. Tonight, you weren’t just completing a dare, you were testing the edges of who you used to be. But where to start?

‘The bar’, you thought. Because you’d definitely need another round of liquid courage to go through with this. You sauntered to the crowded bar, sifting through bodies until you reached the counter. The bartender was a beautiful woman with bohemian locs that fell to her waist, beads adorned the feature. God, you loved New Orleans. The date was the flirt with someone, not a man in particular. Could making eyes at the gorgeous mixologist count? Probably not. Before you could pipe up to speak, you were bumped out of the way. Your eyebrows furrowed in frustration as you looked up at the towering figure. “Uh! Excuse me!” You called out, her voice only carrying a few inches away from you, but apparently it hit the intended target.

The male turned around and you were instantly stunned. Not only was he tall, but he was fine. Fine was an understatement. When God was done molding him even he had to give himself a pat on the back. From his chiseled jaw line to his ocean blue eyes that were covered by gold wire glasses, his features immediately enticed you. Fuck. The top two buttons on the shirt he wore were unbutton, revealing a gold chain with a simple cross pendant, shit had you ready to confess your sins. “Oh, my apologies love. I didn’t see you there.” He responded, a british accent stunned you, but the depth and rasp of his voice almost made you melt where you stood. “Let me buy you a drink, since I cut you in the queue.” His smile, FUCK. You giggled in response, as if you weren’t about to give him a piece of your mind just ten seconds before you got trapped in his eyes. Flirt. “Good idea, that’ll save you from my wrath.” You responded, your orbs holding his as you naturally tilted your head to the side. “A lemon drop, please.”

“Lemon drop.” he repeated, nodding toward the bartender. But his eyes never left yours, and the way they raked over you, slow and deliberate, made you feel like the most captivating thing in the room. “And an old fashion for me.”

As the bartender prepared your drink, he leaned in slightly, closing the already narrow space between you. His scent wrapped around you, warm, woodsy, and intoxicating. You could almost feel the heat radiating off him, and it took every ounce of composure not to let your knees give out.

“I’m Aaron, by the way.” he said, his voice lower now, meant just for you. You swallowed hard, your tongue darting out to wet your lips as you replied, “Nice to meet you, Aaron. I’m…” You trailed off, momentarily distracted as his gaze flicked to your mouth.

“Beautiful name.” he said before you could finish. Your cheeks warmed, but you held his gaze, determined not to let him see how flustered you were. “I didn’t tell you my name.” You replied, confused.

“No,” he said, leaning in just enough for his breath to brush against your ear, “but I’m sure it’s beautiful.”

Your drink arrived, breaking the moment, and you reached for it, your fingers brushing against his. The touch was brief, but it sent a jolt of electricity up your arm.

“Thank you,” you said, raising the glass slightly, your voice steady despite the way your pulse raced.

“Don’t mention it,” he replied, his eyes darkening slightly as he leaned back, his smirk now a full-fledged grin.

Flirting had never felt so natural, or so dangerous.

Suddenly, Ashlee’s dare didn’t seem so far-fetched. The idea of a one-night encounter felt thrillingly close, the kind of reckless decision you hadn’t made in years. As Aaron turned to walk away, you acted without thinking, reaching out to lightly touch his arm. The firmness beneath your fingertips sent a jolt through you, and he stopped, glancing back at you with curiosity in his eyes.

Boldly, you slipped your arm around his, letting him guide you through the lively crowd. The club’s energy buzzed around you, but it all seemed to fade, the world narrowing to just the two of you. His confidence radiated with every step, and you found yourself mesmerized by the ease with which he moved.

Eventually, he stopped at a table in a quieter corner, turning to face you. He leaned in close, his breath warm against your ear as he spoke. “Beautiful,” he murmured, his deep voice sending a shiver down your spine. “If I’d known buying you that drink would bring you this close, I would’ve done it the moment I saw you walk in.”

Your cheeks burned, the compliment sending a rush of heat through your body. But then it hit you-he still didn't know your name. You opened your mouth to tell him, but he cut you off, pressing a finger gently against your lips.

"You're going to be whoever and whatever I want you to be tonight," he said, his tone commanding but laced with an edge of teasing. "Understood?"

Yes, fuckin’ sir.

You felt his words settle deep in your core, your heart hammering as you nodded, unable to find the words to respond. Then, remembering yourself, you let out a soft laugh. “I guess I should thank my friends for daring me to flirt with someone tonight,” you said, your tone light but tinged with nerves.

His brow arched, amusement flickering in his gaze. “Just flirting?” he asked, the corner of his mouth lifting in a small smirk. “That’s a pretty tame dare.”

“Well…” You hesitated, glancing down briefly. “They actually dared me to have a one-night stand, but ⸺.”

“Am I not worthy of that dare?” he interrupted smoothly, his voice playful but edged with curiosity. Your lips parted, unsure how to respond to his suggestive quip.

“Maybe,” you replied, feeling your heart race under his gaze. “But it’s complicated.” You lifted your left hand, the glint of your wedding band catching the light. His eyes followed the motion, lingering for just a moment before returning to yours. There was no judgment there, only intrigue. He leaned back slightly, sipping his drink, his calm demeanor unshaken.

“Is he here?” Aaron asked, his tone casual, though his words held a weight that made your breath catch. “Your husband? Is he here?” He continued when you didn’t respond quick enough.

You shook your head slowly, the honesty in your response surprising even you. “No.”

“Then it sounds like you have a choice to make, Love.” he said simply, setting his drink down on the table. His hand brushed yours lightly, a fleeting touch that felt electric. For the first time in years, you felt truly seen, the weight of routine and expectation momentarily lifted. The noise of the club melted away, leaving only the pounding of your heart and the magnetic pull of his presence. This wasn’t about making a decision yet; it was about the possibility ⸺ a spark of something wild and untamed.

Indeed, you did. Was one moment of indulgence worth betraying the vows you made? Was your competitive nature driving this, or something else entirely? Every rational thought warned you to step back, but then you caught sight of Aaron’s smirk; mischievous, yet inviting—and all logic slipped away. The heat in his gaze made your pussy throb, and the thrill of the unknown sent a shiver down your spine.

“Let’s go.” You said, the words spilling out before doubt could creep in. Your voice carried a conviction that surprised even you.

His lips curved into a slow, knowing grin, one that sent a wave of heat down your body. He finished his drink in one smooth motion, setting the glass down with a deliberate air. “No hesitation,” he murmured, almost to himself, before reaching for your hand.

His touch was warm, firm, and commanding as he led you through the crowded club. The air inside felt suffocating now, charged with tension, but as soon as you stepped outside, the cool New Orleans night greeted you like a cleansing balm. Yet even the breeze couldn’t temper the heat coursing through your veins.

While you waited for the valet, Aaron stood close, closer than he needed to. The faint scent of his cologne lingered between you, earthy and rich, making it harder to think straight. His hand remained on yours, his thumb absentmindedly stroking your skin in small, soothing circles.

A tinge of self-preservation kicked in, and you fished your phone from your purse, typing a quick message in the group chat.

“Leaving with him. Keep an eye on my location.”

You hit send and glanced up at him, finding him watching you with a curious tilt of his head. “Taking precautions?” He asked, his voice low, teasing, but with an undercurrent of respect. “Of course.” you replied, meeting his gaze with a faint smirk. “You’re still a stranger, no matter how fine you are.” He chuckled, the sound rich and inviting, as the valet pulled up with his car, a sleek, black luxury vehicle that seemed to match the polished disposition he exuded. He opened the passenger door for you, stepping aside with a small bow that was both playful and impossibly smooth.

“After you, beautiful.” he said, his tone soft yet dripping with intent. You hesitated for the briefest moment, one last flicker of restraint threatening to pull you back. But then you stepped forward, sliding into the plush leather seat, the door closing behind you like the start of a story you’d never expected to write. As he rounded the car and slid into the driver’s seat, you couldn’t help but glance at him, a mixture of anticipation and trepidation swirling inside you. He caught your gaze and smiled, a slow, devastating twitch of his lips that seemed to promise everything and demand nothing.

The car ride was steeped in a quiet tension that buzzed between you like static electricity. Neither of you said much, but the silence wasn’t awkward ⸺ it was charged. Every so often, your eyes would meet, and in that brief exchange, a mutual understanding passed between you. This is really happening. Aaron’s right hand rested on your thigh, warm and firm against your skin. The casual intimacy of the gesture gave you goosebumps, but it also grounded you. His thumb occasionally traced small, idle circles, igniting tiny sparks that made your breath hitch. Meanwhile, he drove with practiced ease, his left hand guiding the sleek car through the city streets like he’d done it a hundred times before.

As the neon lights of the club district gave way to quieter, tree-lined roads, your heartbeat quickened. His place wasn’t far, and the realization settled over you with the weight of inevitability. You had crossed a line tonight, and every passing second carried you further from the point of no return. When he finally pulled into the driveway of a modern, elegant townhouse, he killed the engine and turned to you. His gaze was steady, his aquamarine eyes searching yours as if to make absolutely sure. “You ready?”

The words were simple, but the way he said them ⸺ low, careful, and tinged with concern, made your chest tighten. You nodded, your voice momentarily caught in your throat. “Yeah.” You managed softly. It was way too late to back out now, and honestly, you didn’t want to. Aaron smiled, a subtle grin that made your stomach flutter. He stepped out first, walking around to open your door.

Always the gentleman, it seemed, an unexpected touch for the man who now held the reins of this impulsive, reckless night. As you stepped out of the car, the cool night air brushed against your skin, heightening your senses. Aaron’s hand found yours again, his grip firm yet reassuring as he led you up the short walkway. The sound of your heels clicking against the pavement felt louder than it should have, like a drumbeat marking the anxiousness building between you. At the door, he paused, his keys in hand, and turned to face you one more time. “If you’re not sure, we can stop here.” he said, his timbre gentle but resolute. “No pressure, no hard feelings.” Your heart raced at his sincerity, but there was no hesitation left in you now.

“I’m sure.” you reassured, your voice steady this time. You were so fucking sure. With a small nod, he unlocked the door, holding it open for you as you stepped into his world, leaving everything else behind.

You barely made it through the threshold before you were engaged in a steamy kiss, and you were ripping each other’s clothes off like it was the end of the world. Patience was no longer a virtue, the only thing that mattered was the dare you had to complete. You two left a trail of clothes to the bedroom, where he pushed you down on the bed and demanded that you get in your favorite position. He would take you anyway you wanted. Without a second thought you rolled over on your stomach, pushing your ass out with your top half pressed firmly against the bed. The arch in your back made him hiss. You spread your legs just wide enough so that he could see your plump sex. “That’s a pretty pussy. Almost as beautiful as you.” He commented as he walked up behind you, slamming both of his hands down on your ass before he kneeled down behind you and released a wad of spit onto your throbbing mound. His tongue followed, gliding up and down your leaking slit with precision, he moaned as he tasted you.

Your nectar satisfying the male’s natural sweet tooth as he continued to indulge himself in your waters. “Oh my god…Aaron.” You squealed as his tongue ventured inside of you, caressing your walls as he thumbed your clit in a slow, figure eight motion. “You’re gonna make me cum already!” You exclaim, causing him to pop his plump lips off of your southern lips.

“Not yet…this is a one night stand.” He mumbled as he stood up behind you, gripping your waist and positioning you just right. He gripped his manhood in his hand and he slowly worked his tip up and down your opening, watching as your glaze coats his thick tip. “That means I got you all night.” He uttered as he slid inside of you, your walls clenching tightly to envelope him inside like a glove. You whimpered with every inch, he had your husband by at least three inches, but you were a determined one. You relaxed your body fully as he buried himself inside. “Good girl, keep opening up for me.” He praised, and you listened, forcing your walls to take every bit of his manhood until his body was flushed with yours.

“You feel so good…” You bellowed, clawing at the comforter underneath you as he began to stroke. He patterned in and out of your slick cunt, your juices flooding his pole with every impel. It felt like his dick was made perfectly for you, like you settled with the wrong man way too soon. All the time, your soulmate was less 500 miles away.

“You dripping all over my dick, baby. Who got you this wet?” The question was a rhetorical, but got dammit, the man had a right to know that he was doing his big one.

“You! Only you…” You replied breathlessly as you began to counteract his grinding with your own. Throwing your ass back at him, the sweat and other natural fluids from your bodies causing your plump cheeks to glue to him each and every time you pushed back. He grunted, encouraging you to continue fucking him back, the more comfortable you got with his size, the more you took, until you were sliding down on his entire cock, ramming into his pelvis. You were fucking him like you would never get the chance to again, because that was your reality.

The phone rings, and for a second, everything stops.

“Uh oh, is that hubby calling?” The male asked in a gruff tone as he placed his hand in the center of your back, slamming his pelvis into your plump cheeks, plummeting his manhood deeper and deeper into your guts. Before you knew it, he was handing you your phone, without even thinking you took it in your trembling hand. You had two missed FaceTime calls, and now he was calling on the regular cell. He had somehow gotten through the do not disturb function, even though he wasn’t on the approved list. “Answer it.” He demanded, bringing his hand up into the air before he smacked it down on your ass, undoubtedly leaving a palm shaped bruise.

“N-no…” You stuttered as he continued to thrust deeper into your abyss, his curved tip thrashing against your g-spot.

“I’m not gonna tell you again, beautiful. Answer it.” He directed once more, his strokes slacking up some until he completely stopped, leaving you full of his girth; your bodies pressed together.

The phone rang again, and this time you accepted the call. “Hey…babe, hey…” You slurred, trying to make it seem like you were drunk, even though the only thing intoxicating you was the man leaning over you, now pressing kisses to your shoulder as he stroked you deeply. You bit down into your lip, masking a moan as the familiar tone came through the phone. You clumsily hit the speaker phone and laid the device next to you.

“Hey, I was just checking on you. I know y’all were going out tonight. Did you have fun?” Derrick asked casually. Aaron chuckled in your ear, only loud enough for you to hear it. “Sounds like you had fun, you slurring your words.”

“Y-yes….so much fun! C-Can I call you back? The service isn’t good out here.” You powered through, despite being long dicked through your conversation with your spouse. Before he could even answer, Aaron reached over and ended the call. Kicking his foot up onto the mattress, he abandoned his steady, pointed strokes for brutal, merciless thrusts, sending shockwaves through your body. “FUCK! Right there, right there!”

“Your husband doesn’t fuck you this good does he?” He asked as he slipped in and out of your fortress with clear intentions, he wanted you to think of him even when you went back home. Even when it was your husband behind you. You shook your head no, but that just wasn’t good enough for him. He slid his hand into your fresh silk press and wrapped your tresses around his hand, yanking your hair until your back was flushed with his torso. He turned his head, planting soft kisses on your earlobe before he spoke again. “Answer me. Use your words.” Both of his hands wrapped around your body, one landing on your neck, and the other against your throbbing sensitivity.

He squeezed the column of your neck, while slapping his hand down on your clit to provoke an answer from you. “No! He could never fuck me like you…” You declared boldly. One night with this man and you had already thrown your husband’s boring bedroom skills under the bus. Your silk-lined walls spazzed, your clit pulsated with anticipation as your stomach muscles tightened. The curl of your toes told a story, the contortion of your face was the foreword. You were about to unravel, harder than ever before. He needed no introduction to your orgasm, he could feel you tightening around him. “That’s it princess, gimme what I want.” He encouraged as he sent one more swift pop to your engorged bundle of nerves, sending your body into a frenzy as you came. Frothy, ivory cum coated the latex between the two of you as a shrill cry left your lips. “Shit…shit…” you cursed as he placed another kiss to your temple.

“Keep cumming like that and I might have to keep you.” He murmured, a promise he couldn’t keep. He slid out of you, only for a moment to replace the condom. Grabbing your leg, he used it to flip you over on your back. He positioned himself between your thick thighs, pushing them up to your chest as he tapped his throbbing tip against your sensitive clit. He didn’t waste time entering you once again, pressing both of his hands on each side of your head as he leaned down on top of you. His gold cross pendant dangled right over your line of sight. The symbol was so fitting, because he was nailing you to that motherfucka.

This had to be the most dangerous position. His gaze felt like something you weren’t sure you could pull back from. Those piercing blue eyes of his—deep and endless like the ocean—held you captive, silently daring you to dive in, to let go of everything else. The sexually charged as the air between you thickened, it became harder to grasp onto reason. All you could focus on was the way his skillful phallus edges you closer and closer to glory.

“You don’t love him…who do you love?”

“I love you!” You blurted out mindlessly. You didn’t love this man, you’d just met him. But you absolutely loved the way he felt inside of you, so, same thing?

“I love you too,” He retorted, pressing his lips to yours to steal a few kisses. “Keep giving me this pussy, make me nut.” He grunted as he closed any gaps between the two of you, his sticky, sweaty frame clinging to yours. The religious symbol carved from gold swayed above your mouth as he defiled you. You impulsively grabbed the pendant with your teeth and held onto it, causing the male to growl in response. “Sexy ass…” Your action clearly arousing him, you could feel his erection twitch insiders of your fortress.

You wrapped your hands around his waist, letting them fall further down to his muscular ass, sinking your french manicure into his skin and holding him in place. “You wanna nut so, bad. let me feel you, daddy…” you purr into his ear, and lock clockwork his entire body tenses, he gives you a few more choppy strokes, a throaty snarl covering a string of obscenities as he filled the latex between the two of you, another orgasm ripping through your own body simultaneously. The two of you laid there in silence for a few moments; enjoying the feeling of your bodies sticking together. Finally, he reached between you and pulled out. Placing a soft kiss against your duo before pulling away all together.

You watched as he swaggered to the bathroom, his beautiful round butt on display. You’d just cheated on your husband, and you honestly had no regrets. He would never know, you would get back to your life in a few days and forget this ever happened. Or would you?

You heard the sound of the toilet flush before he walked back out to you, in all his glory. “You okay?” He asked, your lips curved up into a smirk. “Let me get you some water…”

As promised, he made you touch every wall in the house. From the kitchen while he was “getting water” to the living room floor, back down to the hallway, until you circled back to the shower and ended in the bedroom again.

Normally, you loved the sunrise ⸺ it was your favorite time of day. You were an early riser, always savoring the quiet peace of dawn. But today, you hated it. The soft, golden light spilling through the curtains was an unwelcome reminder that your night with Aaron had come to an end, and reality was waiting just outside that door.

Carefully, you slid out of bed, moving as quietly as possible to avoid waking him. His steady breathing filled the room, and for a moment, you paused, watching the way the morning light kissed his face. He looked so peaceful, so perfect, and it only made it harder to leave.

You tiptoed around out of the room, gathering your clothes from where they’d been discarded the night before. Piece by piece, you dressed in silence, your movements deliberate, almost hesitant, as if you were trying to hold on to the last remnants of the night.

But as you reached the front door, a tug of longing made you stop. You couldn’t leave ⸺ not yet. You needed one last look at him.

Turning back, you crept down the hall and peeked into the bedroom. Your heart stuttered when you saw him staring back at you, his dreamy eyes half-lidded as he rubbed the sleep from them. His voice, low and raspy from sleep, broke the silence. “You were just gonna leave like that?” The corners of his lips displayed a faint smile, and the vulnerability in his tone hit you harder than you expected.

“Yeah, before you make it even harder to leave,” you admitted with a matching smile, your voice barely above a whisper. You lingered at the doorframe, taking in the sight of him one last time, trying to commit it all to memory. “Goodbye, Aaron. Thank you for last night.”

The sincerity in your words hung between you, unspoken truths layered beneath them.

He propped himself up on one elbow, his eyes searching yours. “Before you leave… what’s your name?”

You hesitated, your lips parting as if to tell him, but instead, you offered a soft, enigmatic smile. “Let’s just leave it as ‘Beautiful,’” you said, the words laced with finality and a hint of playfulness.

Aaron leaned back, his smile widening as he chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Beautiful it is.”

Without another word, you turned and slipped out of the room. Outside, your best friends were waiting for you, their faces alight with curiosity and mischief. They immediately bombarded you with questions, eager for every last detail. But as you settled into the car’s backseat, you held onto the memory of last night, knowing some moments were better left unspoken, cherished in quiet secrecy.

[happy74827]

Chaos Theory

[Mike Schmidt x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: When Mike's crazy schedule finally aligns with one of the so-called "parental meetings" at Abby's school, he decides to see what it's all about. Little did he know he'd come to seriously regret that.

WC: 2,590

Category: Slight Fluff

I failed an exam today, so I wrote this to cheer myself up. I still feel pretty crappy, but this was really fun to write lol.

Also if you see any grammar mistakes, no you didn’t.

『••✎••』

When it came to Abby’s school, Mike was at a disadvantage. He couldn’t go to any of the parental meetings, not because he didn’t want to, but because he was constantly doing something work-related during the time those meetings were scheduled.

It didn’t mean he wasn’t keeping an eye on her grades and school attendance. It just meant he couldn't be there for the day-to-day things. Abby was a good kid, though; she never gave him trouble about the things he missed, and she did a pretty good job of keeping her grades up and attending all her classes.

Her teacher, you, was also very understanding of his schedule and position. He wasn’t sure how many teachers would have been as patient with him as you were. It was part of the reason he had grown fond of you, though it had been a gradual process that happened mostly unbeknownst to him.

At the beginning of the year, he had only been concerned about getting Abby acclimated to her new school. She was a quiet kid, stuck to her drawings, and it was even hard for him to get her to open up sometimes. Runs in the family, apparently. But, somehow, you were able to break down the wall that had been erected around her. Abby still didn't talk all that much, but she would always come back from school with a smile on her face. So, Mike was happy.

Then, like all good things, it came crashing down like a house of cards when his work schedule finally aligned with one of the “upcoming” meetings. This one was apparently a very big deal, and it was strongly implied to show up.

He hated these things despite never going to any before, but he just knew it would be filled with nosey people asking questions about his life. His sister. His “wife.”

God, he was already annoyed. The only saving grace was that it was the last meeting before the holiday break, so once it was over, he would be free for a while. Free to do what, exactly? Work, most likely, but a guy can dream.

The bell rang, signifying the end of the school day and the start of his personal nightmare. The door to the classroom was opened by one of the school's assistants, who held a clipboard in hand and waited for the “parents” to enter the room. He had arrived earlier than the scheduled time so he could speak to the assistant and find out what the meeting would entail, and already he knew it was a bad idea coming in here.

The woman was a nosy old biddy that was all too eager to learn the details of his and Abby's life.

He kept his answers short and clipped, but it did nothing to dissuade the woman. It got worse when he entered the classroom and saw the number of other parents who had shown up. He felt like an animal in a zoo; all the eyes followed his movements as he went to sit closest to the wall and away from the rest of the people.

The surrounding parents looked as though they lived in the next town over. They were clean-cut, hair styled perfectly, and clothes ironed. It was like they were trying to be a picture-perfect family.

He looked down at his own attire. His work boots were scuffed and dusty. His pants had a few grass stains from a recent job. His flannel shirt was buttoned wrong, and the sleeves were pushed up. Even his hair was a mess; he had tried to style it but didn't have much success, so he eventually gave up. The only thing going for him was that he had taken a shower before he left, so at least he didn't smell like sweat and grime.

As the meeting began, Mike had to try his best not to fall asleep. It was the typical teacher stuff. How the kids were doing. What the curriculum was for the following year. What their goals were. Blah, blah, blah.

Mike didn't care. He trusted you, and he knew his little sister was smart. She didn't need someone holding her hand and telling her what she was doing right or wrong. He knew this because he did that, and she didn't need it.

What did interest him, though, was the fact you kept looking his way. You didn't look at the others, and when you spoke, it was usually aimed toward them, but he saw the way you would look at him from the corner of your eye. He figured you were probably in shock that he actually showed up this time.

The meeting dragged on, and he was ready to leave. There were a few moments he had caught himself nodding off as he needed sleep, and this wasn't helping him. But then, like everything else in his life, the universe decided it was his time to suffer.

There was one woman who had sat at the front of the classroom. She wore her hair pulled back tight in a bun, her shirt was pressed, and her face was set in a permanent frown. He hated that lady; she reminded him of his good-for-nothing aunt who only wanted to criticize every choice he made.

The lady was also the mother of the most spoiled, brattiest child in the whole class. That damned kid had made it her life mission to torment Abby. He had come home more than once with her complaining about it, and when Mike had brought it up with you, you had told him that you had spoken with the parent.

That, of course, had done nothing. The child was an annoying pest, and he hated the way she treated Abby, but his sister had learned early on to deal with the bullying on her own. It didn't stop him from wanting to throttle the little shit, though.

The woman, the one who had started all his problems, took the opportunity to start a round of questioning. The first few were innocuous until they weren't.

"You seem to be a very patient woman." The woman had spoken to you, but her eyes were locked on him. "Is it a skill that was learned?"

The question itself was innocent enough, but the inflection and tone she used were meant to cut. He wasn't stupid. He knew she was alluding to something. It was always something, but he had to force himself not to say anything; the woman was a viper, and if he said something, she would attack without hesitation.

"I think anyone can be patient," You had responded diplomatically. "It's just a matter of the situation."

The woman didn't look happy with your answer, but she didn't pursue the line of questioning.

"Well, I couldn’t help but notice a certain someone who decided to finally drop in."

There it was. That was the opening.

Mike could tell you didn’t like the turn of conversation, and you were clearly trying to divert it elsewhere. It was no use, though. Mike could see the glint in the woman's eye as she prepared for the kill. She had a smile on her face, but her eyes were cold. "I was starting to think that Mr. Schmidt had abandoned his responsibilities. Wouldn’t be the first time someone in that family did such a thing."

He couldn’t help but have visions of his accidental mall incident from last year flash in his mind when he processed what the woman had said. He could easily hop over the desk and deck her right in the mouth. He had the muscle for it, and it was very tempting.

However, he would not.

If there was anything Mike had learned over the years, it was how to control his emotions, even if the situation was dire. The last time he had lost his cool, he ended up getting fired, but that was a long time ago… okay, not really, but the point was, he wouldn't make the same mistake again.

He wouldn't give the woman the satisfaction.

Mike leaned forward in his chair, arms crossed over his knees, and looked the woman straight in the eyes. "That's funny. I could say the same thing about your kid."

"Excuse me?!" She hissed, and she seemed offended. Good. He hoped she was offended.

"Okay, okay." You intervened, hands up as if to placate the two of them. "Let's keep this civil, okay? The last thing we want is to be kicked out of the school for brawling. That's not beneficial for any of us." You then looked back at the woman. "Let's not bring personal matters into this."

"Personal matters?" The woman was appalled at your statement, and her voice was so loud in the quiet room. He could tell many of the other parents were looking at them now, and he felt the weight of their gazes on him. It only made his anger spike. "That monkey of his tried to bully mine for three months now, and she's never done anything."

Monkey? Monkey?! Oh, he was going to kill her. It was one thing to talk shit about him; he was used to that, but Abby? No. Absolutely not. His little sister was the best damn thing to come into his life. He wouldn't have it.

But before he could say something, before he could even get out of the chair, you had done something he would never have thought you would. You got up and went to your desk, then you returned, holding a paper. You held it up for all the parents to see.

"This is a drawing my students did a few weeks ago," you started, and he was surprised at the level of calmness you were exuding. "The assignment was for them to draw the thing they loved the most."

Hearing those words, Mike had a feeling what was coming next, but he wasn't going to say anything. It would be like tempting fate. Still, he watched as you grabbed one of the papers, and then you turned it around so he could see it. Abby had done the drawing, and it was not only of him but of everyone else in her class as well. She had even drawn you standing near her with a kind smile. It was the picture she had brought home from that field trip months ago. It was a nice picture. Really nice. He liked it, and he knew Abby was proud of it.

"I made copies of every drawing so the parents could see them," You continued as you held out the picture for everyone to see. "So, tell me, would a bully do this?"

Your voice had a bite to it now, and he could finally see just how angry you were. He was surprised at how much control you were exerting. The other parents, however, were shocked at your sudden display of emotion. Even the woman, who had looked as though she was ready to take you on herself, looked like a deer caught in headlights. She didn't know what to say. No one said anything. Even he was shocked by your sudden outburst.

You were normally such a mellow person. Understanding, even. Always ready to listen, always ready to understand. You were the one who was there to help when something went wrong. You were the person who everyone turned to. You were… nice. You were a kind person. You were—you were just like Abby. That's all he saw in you now. You were just like his sister. You were just like her. You had that same determination and that same look of knowing something that others didn't, but there was also something else. You were a fighter, too. It was just something he hadn't noticed until this very moment.

You weren't the nice teacher everyone thought you were. No, you were more. You were the person he knew his sister was becoming.

"And to answer your question from before," you continued, ignoring the growing outrage from the other parent. "I'm a very patient woman because I understand that not everyone has the same opportunities. Some of us have a responsibility to provide the basic necessities for our family, which can often lead to not being able to attend these types of meetings.”

You looked directly at the woman when you spoke the last part, and you did not look happy. At all. In fact, he was pretty sure that was a little vein on the side of your head.

"Not everyone can be at their best every moment. Not everyone is at their best all the time. Not everyone has the privilege to complain about things not going their way. So, while I am a very patient woman, I will not have any of this derogatory about my students and their guardians." The calmness in your voice was gone, and your voice was rising, and you had started pacing back and forth behind your desk as you spoke. "Because if there is one thing that I cannot stand, it's someone who criticizes others just to make themselves feel better."

You went on to speak about your experience with the woman's daughter, explaining that a meeting needed to be called upon to address the issues with the child. You didn't stop there, though. No, you also spoke about how she should have addressed the situation when it was first brought up and how that, in turn, impacted the rest of your class. You had even pointed out some of the other parent's children who had done the same thing.

Suddenly, this meeting wasn't as bad as he thought it would be.

It took a while, but once you finished your little speech, everyone had finally gotten over their shock and embarrassment. The meeting, as such, continued without incident, and by the time it was all said and done, Mike was ready to go home.

As he stood from his seat and made his way to the door, however, you stopped him. You had your bag in your hand and your coat on as well.

"I just wanted to—"

"You don't need to apologize," Mike cut you off. He didn't want an apology. He knew you weren't at fault here. In fact, he was surprised you took the time even to defend him. That didn't happen often. "I was expecting something like that to happen, but I appreciate you speaking up for Abby. She's got a good teacher."

He thought you would be embarrassed or even annoyed, but instead, your face lit up, and your cheeks turned red. "Oh, uh, well, it's my job. It was what I needed to do."

"Maybe, but you did it anyway. So, I appreciate it." He looked around the room and noticed everyone else had left. Even the nosy assistant had disappeared. He didn't know what to say, so he settled with saying the first thing that came to mind. "And hey, maybe next time you can tell them this is why I don't go to these meetings."

Your laugh was light, and you had a smile on your face. He liked the sound of it. He liked seeing it, too. He also liked the way it lit up your eyes. They had a beautiful color. So bright, so shiny. It was almost hypnotic.

"I'll consider it."

Mike wasn't sure how, but somehow, he knew you were telling the truth.

[necroflaww]

Naughty Brahmsy - Brahms Heelshire x F!Reader

"Right now you're mine, all mine."

A/N:  This is taking place after the first movie when Greta left. I might make this one into a series. Until I get some requests in, I'll be posting some of my own stuff I've written in my downtime. If you do have requests, look at my pinned post on my profile!

Warnings: some nonconsensual grabbing and grinding, blood, tit fucking, facial.

Brahms delt with the psychical ache of wanting to have you all for himself for weeks now ever since you moved in as new nanny. Your smell, skin, everything made him so thirsty for you that he could slit that pretty throat and drink you up. But he needed you alive, alive so he could make you his. In Brahms' mind, as long you lived in the manor, you were his to fuck and breed when desired. He was pathetic for you, spending nights of palming his hard on while watching you through the walls instead of just going out and taking you.

That what was going through his mind when watching you make him a sandwich. The filthy thoughts of bending you over the counter and breeding you until Brahms was collapsing on the floor. To have you shaking and mewling as he ravaged your skin. He never had actually done these things, just thought of it. All he had was the sex doll given to him by his parents so he could fuck out his frustrations and the porno magazines he kept in a messy pile. None of that was compared to the real thing. Brahms looked down from you at the aching between his thighs. The erection that reminded him that he had all the power to make you submit. Brahms had to do something. Even if it meant getting in trouble. Before you knew it, you were shoved up against the counter from behind, Brahms' massive hands gripping the edge of the counter. His nose tucked into the nook of your neck, inhaling your scent deeply. Each whiff made him whimper, God he was fucking pathetic but it was cute. Brahms pressed his hips up against your ass, his arms coming tightly around your hips, grinding hard against you like the horny bastard he was.

"Brahms, what are you doing?" You gasped out when you felt his erection pressed up against the curves of your body. It was fucking big, and it was needy for a wet hole. "Please...please. Shut up. Let me-" Brahms whined harder, his cool mask pressing against the sensitive skin of your neck. You hands pushed at his arms around his waist, causing the man to growl out and start to whimper like a hurt dog. "Brahms! Quit! You're being really bad!" You shouted out before you were interrupted his Brahms slamming his palm over your mouth to keep you shut. Brahms bent you over the counter, one hand on the back of your head and the other holding you up by your hips.

It all came crashing down when Brahms felt the sharp pain of small teeth digging into the meat of his palm. He smacked your mouth, yelling out in pain as he pulled away. The perfect, bloody indents of your teeth in his palm told Brahms all he needed to know about you. That you were going to be harder than he thought. "Brahmsy! Bad!" You hated being mean to him, Brahms was a sweet boy sometimes. Brahms glared at you like you had just told the man that he was a fucking failure and that you hated him. His eyes going wide under his mask in hot anger and then into sadness. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I'll be good. I promise I will." Brahms held up his bleeding palm to you like he wanted you to tend to it.

He was a big ol' baby.

"Why the hell would you do that?" You took his hand on frustration, still trying to prod at it with gentle fingers. You used the hem of your apron to dab up the blood that was bubbling up in his palm. Brahms tilted his head at you, those damned puppy eyes. He always tried them whenever you weren't doing what he wanted. "I'm sorry. I just...I want to..." Brahms mumbled off, his eyes darting away quickly from you. You looked up from the crimson blood on his palm as he started to go quiet, only the deep and brooding melodies that came out of the gramophone filled the awkward silence between you two.

"You want to what?" You placed a finger on Brahms' chin, bringing his face back to you so he could look in your eyes. You felt his breath hitch in his throat, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. Brahms felt so sure earlier, so confident, now he was scared that you were disappointed in him and would leave. "I wanted to touch you." Brahms finally said, hissing through his teeth slightly as you applied pressure to the wound. His words caught you of guard, mostly because Brahms saying that wasn't normal for him. He was a bit weird and said out of pocket things, but he had a filter. "You have to ask to touch." You said firmly, hoping it would get the point across. His eyes lit up as you said that, that was what he wanted to hear.

"Can I..." Brahms held his hand up, making a squeezing motion with his fingers near your breast. You had to fight rolling your eyes, of course he was going for the tits. You just nodded, taking his palm and pressing it against your breast. Brahms' eyes stared at him palming your tit like it wasn't really happening. He eventually gave a soft squeeze, his breathing coming out harder from under the mask. Just a small touch and Brahms was already huffing like an angry bull over it. He reached his other hand up, squeezing the other breast. Brahms was gentle at first, his thumbs caressing your curves, feeling the smoothness of them though your shirt. Brahms looked down at you, his masked face inching closer to yours. It was the exact replica of the once perfect doll that was shattered just months ago. Brahms pressed the lips of the mask against your's. It was sweet, almost like he was kissing you with the small tits of his head. You reached a hand up, touching the bottom of it. "May I?" You asked gently to make sure not to tip Brahms off and cause him to freak out over nothing.

Brahms nodded quickly, he was excited. He never actually kissed someone besides his momma and Greta. But both left him. You lifted Brahms' mask up ever so slightly to just see his lips. They were small, chapped, his facial hair making the pink color of them stick out. You noticed the burn scars on the small bit of skin that was showing, it didn't bother you much, but it was a reminder of what he did. Brahms didn't give you a second to think, just crashed his lips straight into your's. His hands tangled up into your hair, holding it tight in his grasp to keep you in place. The kiss was like two teenagers making out for the first time. Sloppy, needy, breathy. Between each wet smack of your lips was a small gasp of air. Brahms palmed at your breasts again, grabbing them with a new heated fervour. His tongue protruded your mouth, prodding inside your mouth to try to taste you inside and out. His hands gripped the front of your shirt before pulling the front down enough for him to see. Brahms pulled from the kiss, his lips parted and glistening with the mix of your saliva with his.

Your breasts were beautiful to him. It was definitely worth the wait to Brahms, seeing tits out of his porn magazines was so much better. He didn't think before he spoke, the words just fumbling out. "Let me fuck them. Please." You looked up at Brahms with a shocked look, not bad shock, but just shock he would even want to do that. "Please. On your knees." He begged again. Brahms pulled the rest of your shirt up, letting your tits bounce out. You got down on your knees, raising yourself up just enough for Brahms to be able to easily shove his cock between them. Brahms moaned out loud, his mouth hanging open as his trembling opened his pants and pulled his cock out quickly. It was thick, heavy enough for it to still be slumped over when rock hard, a dark patch of curly pubes around the base. Brahms struggled for a bit to get it in position to the cleavage of your breasts before he got it. He pressed your tits together, shoving his cock up between them. The swollen, pink tip stuck out the tops of your breasts, the foreskin hugging slid down his shaft with each thrust.

Brahms was already panting and whining like a dog, his strong hands gripping your tits together. You tilted your head down just low enough to take his cock head in your mouth, making him moan out louder. Brahms watched as his precum built up at the slit of his cock, the sticky fluid glazing over your breasts. He took a hand, pinching one of your nipples roughly, making you yell out in pleasure. You could feel the folds between your thighs growing wetter by the moment as he twisted and pulled at your nipple and sending electric pleasure for you.

With a loud groan, Brahms pulled away, his cum shooting out of his cock in thick ropes onto your tits and face. You felt the warm liquid dripping dripping down your lips and breasts, leaving hot streaks of Brahms' seed behind. He reached to your face, smearing his cum over your lips like it was lip gloss. "Again?" Brahms asked with a tilt of his head, making you laugh softly.

"Later, Brahmsy. You were a good boy."

[simplyreveries]

Diasomnia boys with a reader that's really prone to panic attacks, but hides it really well?

Like, sometimes they get really jittery and stuff, but that's just them being them! It gets better, usually. If not, they go to the bathroom chill, even when they're literally going to die inside.

And they kinda knew cause they went on a boat date, then they just kinda started saying they were uncomfortable and stuff and they ended up having a huge panic attack, like how would they react?

malleus draconia

he is very observant, especially over someone like you. it's his own way of showing care and affection if anything. malleus usually seems to have a watchful eye over you-- your wellbeing is something he finds really important to him. he can quite easily tell how nervous and how much anxiety building up in you. with that being, however, he is a bit... awkward showing how much he does want to help you. he doesn't understand that part well. now, he doesn't express it, but it does he feels a strange and foreign sense of powerlessness because he wants to be able to magically take it all away.

malleus is incredibly gentle; he does go out of his way to still try even though he can't fully solve it for you. when he notices the jitteriness or even as soon as you seem to be unable to focus, if you're alright with the touch- he'll carefully slip his hand to hold yours and trace his thumb over the top of your hand. he will give you reassuring affirmations or looks. though, he tends to just slip you away from whatever you're around and give you the best sense of peace he can.

with that being said, that's what he prompts to- he knows you seemed to feel somewhat better during your times with him outside ramshackle at night, where you may find comfort just trying to ease your breathing outside. he'll be there, quiet but someone for you if you wish to speak. and once again, because this is still new for him- whatever you want practically goes because he just ultimately wants you to feel better. so even if that's space, stay in silence, or talk about something else to get your mind off it. he will gladly give any of it.

lilia vanrouge

lilia already has this caring and doting nature around him- and that always applies to you. he can sense what you're feeling from a mile away. he knows you so well already and only wants nothing more than to help you. lilia genuinely wants to be someone you can lean and rely on. despite the trouble or teasing to others he can bring- he is very careful around you. especially during the aftermath of any of them, he is ready to be there.

he is always seeming to check on you. when you seem to be bouncing your leg, fidgeting, biting your lip or nails- very quick to notice- he'll calmy hush a "do you want my help, dearest?" something of that sorts and give a reassuring smile. he never wants you to feel bad for it and make it any kind. he also wants the approval from you if you want or need him around to ease yourself.

when you've dealt with one, carefully, he'll try to ease and calm you down after the adrenaline high you were just experiencing. he'll always seem to have a caring smile on his face when he asks if you''ll let him hold you for a moment. i have a feeling his hugs, with the addition of soft humming or strokes are the epitome of safe.

silver

at first, he was new to handling these kinds of things- he felt completely unsure how to help when all he wanted to do was do just that. much like malleus, but honestly, probably even more so- his quiet nature can most likely prove to be some help when it comes to your panic nature. anything he says or does, even if he is a bit internally worried about how to handle it himself, is so gentle and soothing. it hurts him seeing how much you have to deal with- so he'll do everything and anything he can for you. in moments especially where you're talking to others and feeling anxious, he'll take over for you.

silver is protective by default; it only heightens around you. he wants nothing more than for you to be and feel safe. he is knight, he really couldn't push that part away from him if he tries. in the midst of the moment his focus is solely onto you. if you'd allow him, he hold your hands and let you squeeze them as tight as you want, trying to help guide you through it the best way he can. even if it's difficult and you feel like a mess, he is right there with a worried look and this aching desire to fix it for you.

after it slowly wears of, he might recommend and try coaxing you to fall asleep. he doesn't leave your side if your comfortable enough to allow yourself to. he'll lightly trace your arm and try to have you match your breathing with his.

sebek zigvolt

sebek would probably have the most confused time trying to help you- not in a bad way- like anyone else he wants to help you, but he has zero clue how to even begin the first few times. he gets so concerned and when he gets worried it comes out as loud unintentionally. or maybe even aggressive to others in a sense of thinking someone was bothering you. and clearly that's the last thing you would need, so he tries his best to be more cautious of himself for you. there are times where he's been kneeled in front of you sitting looking up to you with a "tell me what i can do for you" attitude. he gets so serious,,,

like silver, he's a knight and wants you with a sense of security- he doesn't want to feel like he failed you on that. he would go out of his way after he starts to slowly understand them- to spend his spare time reading about it and even go to lilia for help on comfort. so, at times like this during an instance on a date he would be ready all the more.

him trying to help you does feel rather by-the-book scientific ways of helping you get through it. but he genuinely tries and is solemn about it. he does stumble a bit nervously sometimes, because he still can't quite think straight when you're experiencing anything sorts of bad. but sebek does his absolute best.

[lucky-clover-gazette]

(for the request thing) sometimes i wonder how Volo would feel/react if someone (like arceus’s chosen 👀) took a blow for him from a wild Pokemon or another person. From his perspective, Volo doesn’t have anyone in Hisui that cares about his wellbeing, and the game alludes to him having a troubled and lonely past, and with him having planned on erasing all life in Hisui in pursuit of his desires, would he feel guilt if someone showed him a level of care that would make them sacrifice their safety for his, when he was ready to potentially sacrifice them for his own sake when it came to Arceus?

(also wanna say ive loved your fics on Ao3, so talented <3)

(also on ao3)

You really prefer not to die in front of other people.

The edges of your vision darken as you shove Volo aside, taking the full force of the Alpha Vespiqueen’s attack. You manage the subdue your attacker with a well-aimed sticky glob and ultra ball, but not before suffering an undoubtedly fatal blow.

The consummate merchant comes to you at once, leaning over your fallen body with an oddly indecipherable expression. Usually Volo is abundantly obvious with his feelings, whether he’s passionately rambling about ruins or earnestly praising your efforts as the hero of Hisui. But the man you see now, as your vision begins to blur, simply stares.

“Caught it,” you brag.

His grey eyes widen slightly. You haven’t shared this with him, but you’ve always found them rather beautiful.

“You shouldn’t have…”

“Saved you?” you ask with a dry chuckle. “That’s why I’m here, remember?”

Volo furrows his brow. Reaches out to touch you, then pulls his hand back.

“I sincerely apologize,” he tells you, bowing his head. “If you are to perish in these circumstances, you deserve to know—”

You die and can’t hear the rest.

And then you open your eyes.

You stand on your feet now, in the last place you felt safe before the Pokémon’s attack. Volo still kneels in the distance, seemingly unaware that your body has been replaced by a fallen satchel containing your entire supply of ultraballs, a fire stone, and exactly four medicinal leeks.

You frown. This is going to be awkward.

“Hey, buddy,” you say, coming up carefully behind him. Volo’s back goes rigid at the sound of your voice, his head turning around at once.

“You—you!!”

You rub the back of your neck, sheepish. “Surprise?”

“You died!” Volo exclaims with an accusatory finger-point. “I just saw—” His head swivels to the satchel on the ground, then he turns back to you. “How?”

You sigh and sit down beside him. “Chosen One perk. I die, Arceus says my work isn’t finished yet, I get another shot. It happened for the first time when I fought Lord Kleavor. I had no idea what I was doing, and it took like a dozen tries before I got good.”

Volo looks horrified. “You’ve died a dozen times?”

“Of course not!”

“Then why—”

“My death count’s definitely in the triple digits now. Lord Arcanine was ten times worse than Kleavor, because of all the fire and bullshit arena. At least Lady Liligant was a total pushover.”

“Did it not hurt?” demands Volo, his face growing noticeably pale.

“Oh, it totally hurt,” you admit. “But somebody’s got to deal with it, and I’m the only one around here who’s been made invulnerable by God.”

Volo looks as if he’s been slapped. You suppose that’s fair, considering the shock of witnessing your death and resurrection. But to you, this really is just another Tuesday.

“I know it’s disturbing,” you sigh, putting a hand on his shoulder. His muscles are tense. “That’s why I try my best to make sure people aren’t around to see it. Just easier that way, you know?”

Volo wears another unreadable expression.

“Sucks to lose a satchel, though,” you say, lightly. “Thanks for keeping an eye on it. Without witnesses, I usually lose some of my stuff. Never the plates, though, don’t worry.”

He still looks lost in his thoughts, which is no good. You don’t know how to explain that this happens all the time, for much less important reasons than protecting your favorite person on Hisui. The pain is a small price to pay for his safety, and you’d readily pay it again.

“I thought you died,” Volo eventually says. “Saving my life.”

You elbow him playfully. “I guess Arceus is looking out for you too.”

His expression darkens. “No.”

“No?”

He looks you dead in the eyes, with a different sort of intensity than you’ve come to expect from the eccentric wanderer. “Under an unjust god, endless life is endless pain. Do you truly wish that for yourself? For the world?”

Distantly, you wonder what exactly Volo had thought you deserved to know before your presumed demise. You have a feeling he’s not going to tell you now.

You offer him a hand. “Well, unless you’ve got a better god laying around somewhere, I think we’re stuck with what we’ve got.” And I like what I’ve got, you absolutely do not tell the merchant. I like that I’m here with you.

Volo still seems distracted, but he takes your hand anyway. “Right,” he mutters, and then smiles. “We live to fight another day.”

You rub your thumb against the side of his hand. “And maybe someday, we won’t have to fight. We’ll have everything we need.”

You can picture it, with him. You wonder, maybe foolishly, if he might feel the same way.

Supporting you is actually an investment in my own fortunes, Volo had told you once.

You would protect him regardless of your personal relationship, of course. Just as you protect the rest of this world. You want things to be better, for everyone, and intend to use your god-given powers to ensure that your dream becomes reality.

Volo nods, his sharp gaze fixed on your joined hands. A chill runs down your spine as he squeezes.

“Yes,” he agrees. “Someday.”

You smile softly.

“I think I can live with that.”

[strawberry-cowmilk]

silly things I think the brothers have done

not proof read, also I did all of the things on these lists so it's kinda like the brothers as things I have done hehe ( I couldn't come up with some stuff for some of them so forgive me for some brothers having shorter or more boring lists)

alternative title: the brothers as real things I have done (I swear I'm not that insane)

-----

lucifer

use whatever the devildom version of red bull is as an 'emergency tool' to quickly stop being tired only when he really needs to (don't do this)

accidentally sent a formal important email to somebody completely unrelated because it was 3am and he wasn't sharp (poor person had no idea what he was talking about) (this still haunts me)

one time when he was at a farm a peacock kept following him and kept opening its feathers to him no matter how many times he walked away

mammon

always buys something one of his brothers or mc will like in a store when he sees it for them

bought expensive perfume and quit his job two seconds afterwards

made the mistake of online shopping while being drunk and then cried over a mini bag and bought it because it would be cute for his future child

accidentally almost burnt down a school chemistry lab because he put a plastic tube over the fire (the teacher warned him not to do that) (everything was fine the tube was just a little on fire it only had like salt water in it)

leviathan

met his favorite artist and accidentally dropped his bags right before the picture in front of said artist (the artist tried to help him but he said nono its okay while fixing the mess) (he dropped the bag 1 second after asking if it was okay to put it down) (this still haunts me I'm so sorry to the artist for having to see me fight a bag)

messed up karaoke one time when he was home alone and destroyed his voice for the next week

attended a vocaloid concert

satan

accidentally made somebody believe he has a child because he calls a cat his baby or his son and forgot to specify he's talking about a cat

saw a cat meow and paw at somebody he didn't know's front door and he felt bad for it so he rang the doorbell and asked the guy who lives there 'is this your cat?' but the cat already went inside (luckily it was his cat or else that would have been super awkward)

cut his own hair once out of protest because somebody kept forcing him to cut it (they never forced him to do anything with his hair again so it worked) (I was like 11 years old when I did this)

asmodeus

wore platform heels while hiking because he refused to wear hiking shoes (those were the only shoes he brought to the vacation too) (there was no room to bring more because he already overpacked)

when somebody was being rude for no reason over his fashion choices he accidentally said 'not my problem you're allergic to slaying' out loud (I said this to my mom I almost died)

packed a full suitcase and a big tote bag for a one night hotel stay (the suitcase had an extra bag in it too)

sent his profs emails telling them he's sick so he can go to his beauty salons (this happened more than once)

beelzebub

traveled to a different city to buy a lot of a specific type of food and then came back

sometimes has to function as an alarm clock for one of his brothers (belphie) because its impossible to wake him up

stays home with his brothers when they're sick so they don't have to be alone

tried to make an oven pizza in the microwave with his brothers because the oven was not working (don't try this) (it turned out literally wet by the way)

belphegor

planned a way to skip certain class times every day without getting in trouble to sleep more

woke up from a nap extremely disoriented and asked someone what his name is

I'm so sorry I tried to come up with more things for him but I can't its been a week of thinking

[wcnderlnds]

stupid for you | peter maximoff

SUMMARY: you and peter fall out and he makes it up to you in his own peter way WORD COUNT: 928 WARNINGS: some swearing. A/N: idk what this is but writing peter is my fave so he gets all my dumb ideas ❤️ p.s. if the format sucks it’s bc im mobile.

It wasn’t like Peter had meant to upset you. Sometimes his mouth didn’t have a filter and he said things before even thinking about it so when he called you ‘annoying and needy’, he really didn’t mean it. He wasn’t that guy. He wasn’t the type of person to ever want to upset you or anyone for that matter. So when he’d seen you walk away hurt and upset, that had sent him right into action. He just had to make it up to you — make you see how important you really were to him. It gnawed at him inside that he’d been the one to make you feel that way. Never before had he ever felt so bad. So guilty.

He’d spent the whole day trying to think of what he could do to apologise then suddenly the idea hit him. Maybe it was a little stupid, maybe you’d completely hate it but he thought it’d be cool. Different. It’d be something him.

Meanwhile, you’d spent the day moping around the X-Mansion. The training session you’d had earlier had helped distract your mind but as soon as it was over, your thoughts drifted back to Peter. The fight the two of you had had been so stupid. All you’d done is made some comment about Peter needing to slow down for a minute and listen to you and it had spiralled from there. It wasn’t often the two of you argued. In fact, you never really had. In the whole six months you’d been dating things had been going smoothly. Things had been so easy going, so fun — it wasn’t really a surprise that something was bound to happen to ruin that. When things were going good there was always something that had to come along and mess it all up.

With a sigh, you started to head upstairs to your room when suddenly a blur of silver and blue rushed past you. Before you could even blink Peter was stood right in front of you, his hands hidden behind his back. Your arms wrapped around yourself as you looked at him. “Hi.”

Your nerves were mirrored in his face as he spoke. “Hey. Uh…”

The silence fell between you. It was awkward — something that didnt happen often when it came to you and Peter. Just as you were about to open your mouth to say something he began talking.

“Okay, just let me talk for a minute before I chicken out. I’m not good at this shit. I’m not the best at filtering the stuff that comes out of my mouth. That’s why I’m always getting myself in trouble. You know that but the last thing I ever want to do is hurt you. You gotta believe me on that one. If I could, I’d punch myself in the face. I mean, I could but… I can’t break the goods, y’know?” He laughed lightly, trying to ease the tension.

“It’s my fau-“

“Gonna have to stop you there, babe,” he said as he pulled one of his hands from behind his back and held it up to signal you to stop. “Can’t have you taking the fall on this one. It’s all me. A Maximoff fuck up special. That little switch people have in their brain where they tell themselves to shut up before they say something dumb? Yeah, turns out mine is broken. Probably wasn’t born with one actually. I’m not letting you feel bad for this. It’s all on me, okay? I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.”

A small smile tugged at your lips. “It’s okay. You really don’t have to apo-“

“I do, I really do, though. Felt bad the second I said what I said. You’re not annoying and I love when you’re clingy. I love you wanting to be around me as much as I want to be around you. You caught me on one of those rare days where I woke up on the wrong side of the bed. Maybe Scott even pissed in my cereal or something, who knows. Point is that I messed up.”

“Are you gonna stop cutting me off?” You asked, an amused look on your face as you listened to your boyfriends rambling.

“Oh shit, sorry. My bad. The floor is yours.”

“What I was trying to say was that you don’t need to apologise because I forgive you anyway. We’re gonna mess up sometimes and I know you didn’t mean it. It was just hearing it come from you that upset me, I guess. Anyone else I could take it but you? Your opinions and thoughts about me matter the most. Can we just forget about it and move on?”

“Sure, yeah… but first…” he finally pulled his hand from behind his back to produce a Lego bouquet of flowers. “These are for you and lemme tell you, it was hell trying to put this together.”

“…you got me Lego flowers?”

“Duh. This way they last forever and you won’t have to worry about watering them and you can always remember the time your boyfriend was a dumbass.”

You laughed, taking them from him. “How long did it take you to put it together?”

“Might have cheated and used the ol’ mutation but I kept messing up. Some of the pieces wouldn’t fit where I wanted them to and I almost got mad and thr-“

“There’s instructions, you know.”

“Are you gonna stop cutting me off?” He grinned, hands on his hips as he echoed your words from earlier.

”Smartass.”

“And don’t you forget it.”

[wqterlillypdfs]

summer blues

pairing: jeremiah fisher x fem!reader, bestfriend!steven conklin x fem!reader

summary: All summer, you had been in some strange sad limbo, and you had blamed Jeremiah for that. For all the girls he had kissed at every party, for the way he made your heart beat and palms grow clammy. But really, was it his fault when you were the one who pushed him away?

word count: 3.3k

warnings: underage drinking, swearing, general sad thoughts. dumbass idiot jeremiah. unedited!

a/n: i went thru like the full range of emotions writing this fic, idk how i feel abt it but this is my comeback after three months of no writing. anyways, hope u enjoy!! 💞. reblogs are appreciated as always!

The sun sets low, casting a warm glow upon the unfamiliar garden. The air is thick with the hum of laughter and music that drifts from the house, and everything seems perfect. It should be perfect. This is the stuff summer dreams are made of, and yet, you’re sitting on the outdoor furniture, alone, and left to your own devices.

Summer so far has been nothing but longing. You had watched as the one boy who had captured your heart at ten spent days at the beach with girls you didn’t even know the names of. And sure, it’s not like you have anything, not even close. But could you blame yourself? Jeremiah was nothing but perfect Carolina-blue eyes and golden skin. He was your summer dream.

The house party was meant to be a distraction, that’s what Steven had said when he tugged you into his car. It’ll be fun, you need to stop being sad all summer. He was nothing but adamant to make this summer the best yet, especially with the overhanging weight that Conrad and himself would be moving to college next year. Steven had never been fond of change, especially not when it came to summers at Cousins.

Steven had long since abandoned you to dance the night away with pretty girls and hooting boys, so instead here you are, sitting alone at a party, trying to fill the Jeremiah-shaped cavity in your heart with fruity drinks and loud music. 

Jeremiah hadn’t been in sight when you first arrived at the party, and maybe that was a good thing. You could enjoy yourself for once, without your wandering eyes finding him somewhere with his hand on a girl's waist. Even just the thought of it made you sick to your stomach.

But sometime between then and now, he had shown up. Figures. And now you watch as he makes his way out of the big back doors, down the patio steps, past the pool, until he’s sitting with you in the makeshift gazebo, fairy lights sparkling above.

“Hey trouble,” Jeremiah greets as he sits on the plush outdoor sofa next to you, sidled up close enough that he bumps his shoulder with yours in welcome.

“Hey,” you parrot back, not meaning for the obvious buzzkill tone in your voice.

“What’s got you all bummed out?”

“Dunno.” you reply, eyeing the cold drink you’re balancing on your thigh which leaves a cold ring of condensation on your bare skin. “Did Steven send you to get me?”

Jeremiah’s eyebrows draw together in confusion as he cocks his head to the side. “No? Why would he need to? Can I not check up on my favourite girl?”

You let out a bemused snort, running your finger around the brim of your glass, eyes still not meeting his. Maybe you have had too much to drink.

“Come dance with me,” he says instead, hand outstretched, waiting for yours. You let your head fall against the back of the sofa.

“Not in a dancing mood.”

You don’t know if it’s the drinks or if it’s real, but Jeremiah shakes his head, a soft smile gracing his features as he tucks the stray strands of hair that have fallen in front of your face behind your ear. His hand lingers there a few seconds too long.

“What happened to dancing the summer away?” He questions, and when you finally look up to meet his eyes, he’s much closer than you expected.

“I was fifteen when I said that,” you note, which was almost two years ago now. How does he remember these things?

Jeremiah doesn’t respond immediately so you take your eyes off him, instead you watch the house glow to life, light filling the windows as the dark night begins to blanket the sky. The garden itself is empty with most of the party opting to escape the summer heat by seeking shelter indoors. A few girls are busy by the poolside, and you notice one of them keeps diverting her gaze back to where you and Jeremiah are sitting. Typical.  It was like every girl in Cousins was obsessed with the prospect of at least one of the Fisher boys taking fancy in them. Was it bad that it always made you jealous? Everyone who sees him, wants him, and you wish you could keep him as just yours.

“You have an admirer,” you point out, nodding to the girl by the pool. You must admit, she’s gorgeous. Pretty brown eyes and gorgeous hair that even when wet seems to frame her face perfectly. You slink further down in your seat.

Jeremiah simply rolls his eyes at you. “Well she is pretty.” 

And you know he means it as a joke. Can tell by the stupid grin and the tone of his voice. But the words are still like a dagger to your heart, twisting and turning until you can barely breathe - and oh God, you need to get out of here and away from him. 

You set the drink down by the sofa, it meets the wooden deck with a too-loud clink before you stand abruptly. You brush down the skirt that had ridden up your legs as the ring of water on your thigh left behind by the glass soaks the edges of it. “I need to go,” is all you can murmur out.

“No, wait-” Jeremiah begins, standing to follow you.

“It’s fine,” you push, faux niceties lacing your voice, smiling as much as the ache in your chest will let you. You can feel the frown on his face burn into your back as you turn to leave, but you choose to ignore it, instead making your way back into the large lively house.

As you pass the pool though, the girl who has been eyeing Jeremiah gets up with a giddy look on her face, she calls to him in a sweet honeyed voice and it makes you sick. 

You climb the patio steps, making your way through the lavish interior of the house.

You push through the crowd of people within the house. You just need a moment to yourself, to gather your thoughts and figure out just what the fuck was going on with you. Carefully, you slip into the bathroom, pushing the door shut with the weight of your body before leaning against the sink. You take deep breaths, trying to calm the beating of your heart.

All summer, you had been in some strange sad limbo, and you had blamed Jeremiah for that. For all the girls he had kissed at every party, for the way he made your heart beat and palms grow clammy. But really, was it his fault when you were the one who pushed him away?

Being in love with Jeremiah Fisher was anything but easy, not when you had to dance around the intricate friendship that had blossomed since you were eight years old. You didn’t know what love was until you were fifteen, sitting on the pier with him as you skidded rocks across the ocean. When he had smiled that smile and his eyes sparkled like the entire cosmos was within them. From that very moment on, you were doomed. Every brush of his hand against yours felt like a calculated step, and it was your fault for deluding yourself into believing he had space in his heart for anything more than a friendship with you.

It’s only a million times worse when you’re as close with him as you are, casual flirting and lingering touches was nothing but the norm. So it was especially difficult when he’d grab your hand and lead you through a crowd, or whisper some stupid inside joke just for you in a crowded room, when such a simple touch set your body alight with sparks. 

“Knock knock,” you hear the door open softly, Steven’s head poking through. You had forgotten to lock the door, you realise. “Jeremiah thinks you're mad at him.” He informs, voice careful and soft as he closes the door behind him, making his way to you and placing a comforting hand on your shoulder.

You shake your head, unable to find the words to express the turmoil within yourself. Instead, you offer a weak smile letting out a shaky exhale. “Well, I’m not.”

Steven looks amused as he leans with his back against the sink next to you, tilting his head so it falls into your field of vision. “You sure?”

“Very sure.” You confirm.

“I think you’re lying.”

You take another breath, “I’m not mad, i’m just…” your voice trails off as you try to find the words.

“Angry, confused, sad?” Steven offers.

You shake your head as you poke his shoulder, “would you let me speak?”

“Yes ma’am, sorry ma’am,” he throws his hands up in surrender.

“I’m just… tired,” you say, defeated. Steven gives you an apologetic look. He’s known about your not-so-little crush on Jeremiah. How could he not when he seemed to be the only person who could light you up when you were dim and down? 

“I’m tired of having to watch him go out with other girls every other day. I mean it’s not like we’re exclusive - we’re definitely not - but I just wish I didn’t feel like throwing up everytime.”

For a second, Steven doesn’t say anything, he looks at you with those eyes he does when he’s thinking. “What’s that thing Susannah always says?”

“What?”

“About…” He blows out his bottom lip as he struggles to remember the words, “about how love is like a flower, it needs time to grow and blossom and you need to nurture it.”

You pause, before cracking a smile. “Never in a million years would I have even imagined you quoting one of Susannah’s cheesy pieces of romance advice.”

Steven rolls his eyes at you, but he can’t help the smile that creeps up on him too. “Look, the point is, love isn’t supposed to be easy. Like, at all. But you really like Jeremiah, and I get it, he can really suck sometimes, especially with the whole hooking up thing,” - he looks up at you as he finishes his sentence, - “but if you love him as much as you let on, you’ve gotta just go for it. You need to stop pushing him away because of your irrational fear.”

Shaking your head, you turn fully to face Steven, crossing your arms defensively across your chest. “Okay, it’s not irrational, it’s completely rational. What if I just end up ruining everything? That’s a super real possibility. I don’t want to lose Jeremiah as a friend, and the risk of running that possibility is way too high.”

“God,” Steven lets out through a sigh, he looks like he wants to strangle you. “Listen to yourself! Maybe if you haven’t been moping around all summer you’d be able to see it.”

“See what?”

“Just go out there and talk to the boy.”

“This’d be a lot easier if you just told me.”

“I think you’d appreciate me a lot more if you figured it out for yourself.” Steven tells you, and he says it in a way that leaves little room to bicker back. He gives you an encouraging nod and a soft smile and for a minute you think he’ll say another stupid thing like go get ‘em tiger! But he graces you with silence and leaves you alone in the small bathroom.

You look back at yourself in the mirror. Maybe Steven is right. 

‧₊˚☆༉‧₊˚.

Jeremiah is sitting on the steps of the patio when he hears the sliding glass doors open and shut and the shuffle of Steven’s old sneakers. Immediately, his head swivels so he’s facing his long-time best friend. “So what’d she say? Is she mad?” He blurts out immediately.

“Woah, slow down lover-boy,” Steven says, amusement in his tone. He takes a seat next to Jeremiah, placing his hands either side of himself. “Well, she’s not happy.”

“What the fuck, bro,” Jeremiah grumbles, “you were meant to deescalate the situation.”

“Actually no, I was checking up on my friend, who I care about, and who I haven’t been dancing around all summer long.” Steven corrects.

Jeremiah looks away, unamused, “okay I get it. I haven’t been the best person to her lately.”

“Really?” Steven gasps, faux surprise lacing his tone, “You’ve been avoiding her like the plague and hanging around with random girls like you want her to be upset.”

“I don’t!” Jeremiah is quick to retort. “I’m just…”

“You’re just being a dick.”

“That’s not fair-”

“Look man, I’m not trying to upset you either, but I really don’t get why you’re so scared to confront your feelings. You like her, you like her a lot and it’s so fuckin’ obvious.”

Jeremiah opens his mouth, ready to argue back, but Steven leaves no room for it.

“She literally craves your attention and you’re out here, making out with other girls like she’s not right there. Is this some weird attention grab sort of thing? What, are you trying to make her jealous? This isn’t like you, Jere.”

Steven’s words cut deep. So deep Jeremiah thinks they’ve scarred him, but maybe it’s for the best. No, it’s definitely for the best. 

“Think about it,” is the last thing Steven says, before he stands up, giving Jeremiah a reassuring pat on the back, and disappears into the crowd of party-goers within the house.

‧₊˚☆༉‧₊˚.

When you finally feel ready enough to leave the bathroom, you think for a moment about Steven’s words. They kick around in your head. You chuckle to yourself, who knew you’d ever be taking legitimate advice from Steven? But instead of confronting your problems like you should, you pour yourself another drink, turning on your heels as you ascend the glossy white stairs. Whoever’s house this is - in the words of Steven himself - they’re fucking loaded. 

The upstairs of the house is empty, albeit a few straggling couples making out in the hallway. You ignore them, noticing the gorgeous open balcony that conjoins to the hallway you’re currently walking down. It’s quiet and empty, a perfect place to spend the rest of the night in peace.

The moon hangs low in the sky now, reflecting off the ocean ahead, and as you step out onto the balcony the cool Summer night’s air bites at your skin. 

It's a glorious view for what should’ve been a perfect night. Laughter and music wafts up from the party below, and you let out another regretful sigh, your heart heavy with the weight of unspoken words. As your eyes linger on the ocean, you hear the sound of approaching footsteps. You turn to see Jeremiah standing beside you, and when you look at him, he gives you that sweet smile.

“Hey trouble,” he begins, “you alright?”

You shrug, turning your back to the balcony as you slide your back down the railing, slumping to the floor with your knees tucked under your chin. “Trying to be.”

“Wanna tell me what’s wrong?”

Jeremiah with such a soft voice felt unnatural, and a part of you felt guilty for rendering him so quiet. Silence stretches between both of you like a chasm, as you struggle to find the right words within you to tell him how you truly felt. Instead, Jeremiah fills the silence, his voice hesitant but filled with a quiet determination. “I’m sorry.”

You gave him a perplexed look, “what are you apologising for?”

“For this entire summer,” he says, sitting on the ground next to you as he takes the cool glass from your hands, fingers brushing yours, before he places it on the ground. You tilt your head, curiosity in your eyes as you wait for him to continue.

“I’ve been an asshole. Like, bigtime, and I'm really sorry.” He takes a deep breath, takes your hand in his carefully, softly, like you’re something to be worshipped. To him you are. “And, I… need to tell you something.”

You look up at him, heart racing with anticipation, “what is it?” you all but murmur.

He takes a deep breath, his eyes never leaving yours. “I just-” and when he can’t find the right words, because how is he meant to compress everything he’s ever felt for you into one sentence? It’s impossible. He instead uses his actions. 

His hands untangle from yours, grabbing the sides of your face before pulling you into a kiss. He kisses you. He kisses you and the world falls away and there’s nothing but him. At first, you don’t know what to do, it’s all so sudden, but when it finally registers, you want to cry. Not sad tears, and not entirely tears of joy either, tears of relief, tears that carry the weight of all your longing.

When he finally pulls away you’re quick to pull him back, holding him as close as humanly possible as you kiss him with all the fervour you can muster, hoping and praying he can taste the apology on your lips. But when it gets too much, and you need air, you pull away again. He looks at you, and you hold onto the fabric of his shirt tighter because this all feels like a dream.

“She isn’t you.” He murmurs, soft enough it could be carried away by the summer breeze.

“What?” you whisper back, as to not break the sacred quietness.

“She's. Not. You. None of them are, none of them could even dream of being you. They’re not funny like you, not gorgeous like you. They don’t know me like you do - Shit, I sound like a sap.”

You chuckle, “no, please do continue.”

He shoots you that heartstopping grin. “Oh, so you do like it when I flatter you?”

“Love it,” you answer, mirroring his grin.

His features soften for a second, and again, the apologies cascade from his lips. “I’m sorry, for being such an asshole. You deserve so much better than me, I’ve been the worst, and I didn’t mean to make you upset or jealous, I was just… nervous. God, you make me so nervous I do the dumbest shit.”

“I make you nervous?” You can’t help the disbelief in your voice.

“Like you wouldn’t believe.” He says, nothing but sincere. He smiles then, and that makes all of it worthwhile. 

You don’t know for how long you manage to get lost in him, but when your thoughts begin to wander, you let the thoughts flow freely from your lips. “Remember when we were ten,” you say, recounting the memory that started this all, “we had snuck out to the beach. We got home so late that night, and we tried to sneak back in, but of course that never works with Susannah. She had said something like-”

“No more sneaking out for the both of you,” Jeremiah continues, “she said we’d had too much fun.”

“But we did it anyway.” You finish, dumbfounded that he remembers that at all. “How do you remember all these things?”

“Because it’s you.” He says it like it’s obvious by now. His pretty blue eyes don’t leave yours for even a second. “I don’t think I’ve loved anyone the way I love you.”

You look at him with that stellar smile he loves so much, but before he can speak, you’re interrupted by the familiar presence of the boy who played cupid. 

Steven shakes his head, clear amusement in his eyes. "Finally,” he breathes out, as if it pained him to see the both of you dance around each other all summer. It probably did. His hands are wrapped around a cool glass, it’s empty. “I think this has been quite a night.”

You nod, blissful, turning to meet Jeremiah’s blue eyes. They speak volumes in themselves, a deep ocean blue that sparkles with some form of admiration, you can’t quite figure it out. “Let’s get outta here,” he says, pushing himself off the balcony floor as he extends a hand for you to take, which you do.

Maybe, this summer could be perfect after all.

‧₊˚☆༉‧₊˚.

general tag list: @thatfangirl42

tsitp tag list: @seaveysoceaneyes @fens-mire @thatonefangirl444

if u wanna be added or removed from my general taglist, or a specific fandom taglist just let me know!

[everythingseasoning]

How the AOT men love you (SFW & slight NSFW).. PT 1

MINORS: Please DNI. Further reading means you consent to reading everything here, though it's pretty vanilla tbh.

EREN - A bit rough around the edges regarding emotional intimacy. Don't get me wrong, he definitely will straight up tell you "I love you so much, y/n," -- he's not afraid of saying what he feels. However, because he isn't as reflective and insightful and calm as Armin is (Eren's a little more simple-minded), he isn't a guy who does fluffy stuff all the time. He's more about action and adventure -- always pulling you into the next great thing.

*NEEDS* you to be safe, and happy. He will only feel satisfied if you're doing okay. Man cares about you, more than anything else.

Oh .. oh, Eren is definitely very blunt, and stubborn. He sees things in his own way, and it's hard to convince him to back down on anything he's got his mind set to. However, the flip side of this, is that he is fiercely caring, and righteous. Will protect you at all costs, even for little things: Some as*hole at the grocery store cut you off in line and you almost fell to the ground? Eren has a hand on your back and waist, steadying you, before he storms up to the man with the DARKEST look of determined hatred. This man has ZERO chill. (and we love him for it).

You are the most important thing in the world to him. He loves you so intensely and passionately that you won't have a chance to ever doubt it.

Fluff 1) You and Eren like to go on walks/runs together. Sometimes you two have races. Eren always wins (the little b*tch--) or ends up slinging you across his shoulder while running, the biggest smile on both of your faces as you two enjoy the rush of being with each other, and life. Life with Eren is just so right, exciting, and full of good times.

Fluff 2) Just how many beautiful waterfalls have you seen with Eren? You've even hiked a purple-flower covered mountain with him! And you've both tried many wild fruits, from the strange oblong shaped ones to pretty yellow star shaped ones-- Usually you were the one to notice the fruit while Eren glanced giddily all around the forest canopy and ground. It was tradition that whenever you two discovered another fruit plant/tree, Eren opens up the Wild Fruits and Plants You Can Eat book, gifted to you by Armin ("So that Eren doesn't accidentally eat something poisonous.") Sometimes Eren is not as bouncy with energy when you two explore the world, and instead he will hold your hand as you two stroll casually, cuddling up on each other's warmth.

NSFW 1) Eren isn't afraid to just.. straight up ask you.. when he wants it. He will look you up and down, eyes full of hunger. "I want you. How 'bout you?" Whewwww. 😮‍💨

LEVI - ohh boy i have so much to say about this little dude...

Would go absolutely crazy and turn into a battle demon, if he saw the love of his life in danger. ...

If Levi somehow found the right somebody, and actually spent enough time with them to be in a relationship, he would NEED his partner to be safe. He will not risk losing you-- he won't. Not after Isabel and Farlan..not again. So if you're ever in danger, you will see an overpowered beast emerge from that man's body and soul.

Levi isn't the best at emotional intimacy, is very stiff when it comes to words of affirmation. He hadn't ever really thought about love. He never even thought he'd have the option to be safe physically, let alone be safe emotionally. --But when he does meet that person, they light up his life in ways that just stun him. They feel like a summer's glow. He will look 10 years younger with you by his side, will feel unprecedented relief whenever he goes back to you. Will scare all the cadets because he will have this stupid smile on his face whenever he sees you.

--But Levi is not used to being loved deeply. He wouldn't know what to DO with your love, and he'd definitely have trouble opening up and being vulnerable. Nonetheless, I do think he'd try; he has initiative to do well to you, and to give you everything he can give to you (starts off with him being your literal guardian demon, progresses into him becoming soft to you). It'd take time and effort for him to learn how to love you properly.

Fluff 1) In the beginning stages of your relationship, Levi would enjoy cleaning with you. He would find himself giving you commands to do more chores (with him).. because he -- wants to -- be with you -- so often??? (won't ever never admit this).

NSFW 1) Levi is a v*rgin. Yes. Yes he (most likely) is. He never met the right person before you, so he never had a chance/time to indulge in s*x. The first time you and Levi have s*x, Levi will have his mouth CLAMPED shut-- trying not to make a noise, trying to control his expressions of pleasure. You'll have to teach him/encourage him to just let go lol.

NSFW 2) Levi wanted to have s*x with you for so damn long cause he's soooo attracted to you, but he will not initiate it LOLLLL. He just doesn't know HOW to ask for that. You had to feel up on him and really let him know you wanted it (breathy whispers and requests), before he FINALLY took the reigns and pinned you against the wall, kissing you hard before taking you to the bedroom~~!!

Also, he's a fast learner. (Imagine with that what you will 🥵).

Fluff 3) & After you two finish, he will clean you up immediately. But after that he won't let you go. Will hold you in a hug for an eternity. Is addicted to your warmth and the love/care you two give to each other.

ARMIN - OH MY GOD NO BECAUSE - i'm so in love with this man - oKAYYY: Armin is a very thoughtful, perceptive, and practical lover. You would feel *so safe* around him, at ease, and like you can be your full self. He's very accepting.

Armin is also going to *look out for you.* He is insanely analytically accurate. He has a clear, reassuring, and gentle energy about him. You know that with Armin, you'll be protected from any new obstacle or harm's way.

You and Armin would see the world for fun. Armin is somebody who feels fascinated with exploring the world, and with learning. He'd probably want a partner who is brave. He'd probably want somebody whose actions or way of doing life, amaze him. He would be so f*cking blushy around you, stuttering and all, whenever you smile so brightly at him -- you're like the sun to him.

Armin *would die for you.* He practically died already, for Eren & the mission. Armin wouldn't hesitate to give himself up, because that's how deep and true his love is for you. (And you genuinely get mad at him for this... but neither of you will budge-- you'd both die for each other).

Fluff 1) You and Armin like to read together :'). Armin will have red blush dusted across his cheeks, and his eyes will be shining as he talks excitedly, imagining all the things the book talks about. You adore it.

Fluff 2) You tell Armin you had a rough day, and he will set up a bath for you. While you bathe in the dark with candles, Armin will be in the kitchen with stew or soup simmering on the stove, before he quietly leaves the house: He will personally scour the bookstore in order to find a book that he thinks will make you smile-- or a book you two will both enjoy reading together/discussing together. Literally this man is like light okay. When you come out from the shower he will be there with a fresh, steaming bowl of stew and a dessert he picked up from the store. You two will eat together and then read a book, cozily cuddling on the couch.. before things get s*xy.

NSFW 1) This man is a *PLEASURER* -- Everything will be gentle, but imbued with such strong love for YOU. Will worship your body. Armin will feel like the luckiest man alive. He sees all your goodness, admires you, and is huge on praising you. Also he moans a lot, even if it's just a soft one that escapes him. Not sorry.

NSFW 2) For my switches/d0ms: You care deeply for Armin, and you also want to see his face when he's a writhing mess-- Sometimes you'll tie him up, and he will... oh he will be so helpless and flustered. You will be giving him all the sensation and he will *love it so much.*

REINER - Somebody come get yo man TT!! Reiner is a f*cking sweet, really good guy. Would protect you and your children (if you have them)-- with EVERYTHING he has -- from difficult, unfair situations (like what he was put through). But, Reiner also probably would want somebody who is strong, because strength means you can protect yourself, and change the world -- Strength is a necessary trait for survival, and he is attracted towards people who are able to stay efficient and alive.

Reiner wants a morally beautiful/morally pure hearted partner. Definitely wants a good person (I mean... Him and Historia in Season, what was is, 2? --speaks for itself). AND I MEANNN Reiner has such a soft heart-- he literally cracked psychologically because he couldn't handle the trauma of being a double agent in a cruel world-- so his pure heart seeks out another pure heart <3

Reiner would ADORE relaxation time with you! He wants the soft fluff, and the soulful moments, like laying together under the stars-- being safe, peaceful, *free.* Reiner has had the burden of war and the Armored Titan like a boulder on his shoulders for ... as long as he can remember. When you're both cozied up together, hands interlaced under the big night sky, Reiner's heart will have bursted and melted all throughout his body. He hasn't ever felt freedom before-- until you. (don't mind me f*cking sobbing right now. he deserves the world!!)

Fluff 1) You and Reiner sometimes do typical, fluffy couple stuff, like go to parks and have picnics, or going to the aquarium, or baking together. Reiner loves the domestic life with you, and you will always catch him gazing dreamily at you, as if he's not sure you're really his. Are you actually right there in front of him? How did he get this lucky? ..Man short circuits a lot around you.

Will definitely be so caught up in his smittenness for you that when you drop the bread dough on the ground and start getting upset/sad, he will just be staring at you like o// //o, not even realizing what happened.

NSFW: I honestly haven't thought about this but I will update this post when I do have some accurate guess on what Reiner in the bedroom is like-- (you can comment if you wanna be tagged for when I do finish this post/ make part two)

𐡘 \

Don't forget to leave a like, or to comment/follow if you want!! Comment to be tagged in part 2! (Jean, Eld, Marco, Bertholt, Connie, Porco, Zeke, etc etc) Feel free to comment! I'd LOVE to hear y'all's thoughts on this post <3! Hope ur all okay.

[themusingsofacurlyhairednerd]

Heavy

Summary: Reader's having a depressive episode and needs some comfort from her mate

Content Warnings: Depression

Author's Note: I should be finishing my Vamp!Rhys fic but I got sad and wrote this instead

------------------------------------------------------

Velaris is beautiful at night, from the glittering stars overhead, to the soft gurgle of the Sidra rushing over time worn stones beneath the city’s many intricate bridges. The music makes the whole city feel full of light and laughter, couples often dancing and humming in the streets. It’s one of your favorite places to be.

Usually.

Tonight it’s just… there. Though you stand in the heart of it, everything moves around you, never quite touching you. It’s as if you’re suddenly a stranger in the place you love the most, the emotional distance between you palpable.

You jam your hands in your pockets and keep walking, though you’re not really sure where you’re going, your body moving on autopilot. It’s been like that for a couple weeks now, if you’re honest, you’ll be half way through the day sometimes before you realize you’re not sure how or when you even got out of bed, or gotten dressed. Did you even eat? Kiss your mate good morning? Rhys has been working long hours in Illyria lately, most nights you’re already asleep before he’s even tumbling into bed, but, now that you’re thinking about it, that could also be because you’ve been going to sleep earlier too.

You frown at your boots as you walk, trying to remember when this happened. It’s not new, you’ve had bouts of this since you were a teenager, but they’ve been better thanks to regular sessions with Madja and some other healers. Art therapy in the Rainbow has helped too. Usually you can tell when you’re starting to slip into the darker places in your head, but it crept up on you this time.

By the time your mindless wanderings bring you back to the Townhouse, the light from your upstairs bedroom is already on, meaning Rhys somehow finished his business and beat you home. You’d only planned to grab some takeout so you wouldn’t have to cook, and yet, here you stand, hands as empty as your stomach.

The door opens before you can even reach for your key, soft light spilling out into the entryway. “There you are!” Rhys says by way of greeting, as if he’d been waiting by the door for you. Your mate leans in to place a quick peck on your lips as he guides you inside.

“Did you go to Rita’s with Mor?”

He should be able to tell you hadn’t, since you’re wearing the same sweatpants you had been for a week, but then again, he also hasn’t been home enough to know you haven’t changed out of them. 

“No I…” you hate talking about this stuff, hate feeling like you’re burdening anybody with the weight you feel pressing down on your chest. “Uh, went to get dinner.”

Rhys stares down at your empty hands, eyebrows raised teasingly. “Did you forget to bring it back?”

You run a hand over your eyes. Cauldron they’re so heavy! Why is everything always so heavy? Your whole body feels like it’s made of bricks, just the effort to kick off your boots feels like it takes every single drop of energy you have left. “Sorry.” Even speaking feels like too much.

Rhys frowns, “Darling, are you ok?”

“Just tired,” you say, avoiding his eyes now. 

He steps forward, placing a knuckle under your chin and tilting your face towards him. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m tired,” you repeat, but your eyes are watering now. 

He stills, violet eyes roaming over you, assessing for the first time tonight how you look, the dark circles under your eyes. He knows you haven’t had trouble sleeping, he’s barely been able to wake you when he comes home at night. “It’s getting bad again, isn’t it?”

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, tears falling in earnest now.

Rhys’s features soften as he lifts you into his arms, the bond flooding with warmth and understanding as he says, “It’s not your fault. You can’t help it.”

You rest your head on his shoulder as he carries you upstairs. “I thought I was doing better… but everything just feels heavy again.”

He kisses your forehead gently as he climbs into bed and settles you down against his chest. Twisting, his wings unfurl so he can curl one around you, cocooning you in the warmth of his body. “What can I do to help?”

You wrap an arm around his waist as you settle your face against his chest, his heartbeat steady and even beneath you. Madja had said once that this was helpful if you got overly anxious, the steadiness of his breathing helping yours level out, and it helps now too, gives you something to focus on. It’s grounding and you let your breathing sync up, your chest rising and falling against his own. Madja hadn’t been able to stress enough how important it was to find something to ground you in the present when you got like this, lest your thoughts start to spiral deeper and deeper into the dark.

“Just need you to hold me for a little while,” you say.

Rhys pulls your favorite blanket up over the two of you before wrapping an arm around your waist. “I love you,” and the bond floods with more warmth than you think you deserve, but it doesn’t let up when those thoughts sneak in. “I’ll do anything you need me to.”

You place a gentle kiss to his chest. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he replies, fingers tracing shapes in your back. “No one has all good days.”

“But nothing even happened,” you protest. “I just woke up one morning and it was just so heavy to be awake.”

He kisses your temple. “We can see Madja in the morning, if you need, but you can’t beat yourself up. You have no control over it.”

You press your temple into his chest and breath in the jasmine and citrus scent of him. “I hate it.”

He places another kiss to the top of your head. You know he hates it too, hates that it’s a battle he can’t fight for you, no matter how much he wants to. “It will pass.”

Rhys is warm, his presence soothing, the darkness that seeps from his skin on the days he hasn’t had the time to expel enough of it, drifting over your body in soothing motions. This is safe and quite and peaceful. Your body starts to settle more and more as time goes on.

“Do you really believe that?” You whisper. “That it’ll pass?”

“Yes,” he says. “It has before, and it will again.” Knowing he’s had the experience himself, you’re inclined to believe he’s right.

“I’m glad you’re with me,” you admit. 

Rhys holds you a little tighter, “Till all the stars fall from the sky, my love.” He holds you all night, whispering all the things he loves about you as you start to fall asleep.

You let yourself fall into it, hoping tomorrow will be better.

[itsvenera]

sfw and nsfw headcanons Victor x scientist!fem!reader 🙏🙏🙏

author's note: I finally have the chance to write for Viktor and I am so happy about it! Thank you so much for your patience and your request! Hope you enjoy! x

warnings: 18+ content: MINORS DNI

➤ SFW

Match made in heaven!

Seriously tho, I don't really see him with someone who is NOT a scientist. Mainly, because his job is practically his life, but also because I think that getting close to someone he is working with, is the most probable way for him to fall in love.

With that being said, your love life and work life would practically be the same thing. You will be together from morning till evening, working on the Hextech and trying to figure out different ways to incorporate it into your experiments.

As his lover, of course, your main priority is to find a way to help Viktor and better his health. Despite him being against it at first, due to his worry that you may get hurt in the process, eventually, he lets you help him.

Your work is often transferred from your lab to your home, and sometimes it can cause bitter arguments between you.

While Viktor is very calm and collected as a lover, but when it comes to scientific debates or arguments about work, he is extremely stubborn. He likes his way of work, and while usually, he is open to other opinions, he doesn't take it lightly if you boldly say "you are wrong".

He doesn't like arguing tho, so while he may be very passionate in the first 10 minutes or so, eventually he will go outside to get some fresh air and calm down before he comes back and apologizes.

This man acts so reserved, but he is a BIG SOFTIE! In the name of peace he is ready to say sorry even when he is right, so please don't be mean to him! (He honestly deserves the world!)

Loves to make stuff with you. It doesn't always have to be Hextech projects, sometimes he enjoys making small trinkets or toys, or just anything really, as long as he can spend some peaceful time with you.

Reading has always been a hobby of his, but since he met you, one of his favourite things to do is read to you. Before bed; while you are out on a date in the park; while travelling... And you love it too, as I can promise you, there is no sound more soothing than Viktor's voice!

Honestly, I don't think he is romantic. If anything, he is extremely smart academically, but when it comes to emotions... let's just say he is awkward. Any dates, gifts, or romantic gestures are mainly planned/made by you.

Not into PDA either, BUT will hold your hand while you are outside and sometimes place a sweet peck on your lips. In private, however, he will be more relaxed and while he will be a bit shy at the beginning of your relationship, soon he will relax and will even initiate intimacy.

BIG SUCKER FOR HUGS!

Again, he will do it mainly in private, but for him your arms just feel like HOME. No matter how stressed or angry he is, once you hold him in your embrace, he will forget every worry that has been troubling his mind.

He may not be the most open or easy partner, but he loves you to death. So please, please, be patient and gentle with him!

➤ NSFW

Not gonna lie, sometimes it baffles me when I see someone describe Viktor as some sex machine/kinky man, because... HOW? WHERE? WHEN?

If anything, I don't think sex ever excited him much. He had probably one girlfriend in his life before meeting you and even then, he was way more interested in studying and spending time in the lab than rolling in the sheets with someone.

He is the type to make love, rather than fuck.

At some point in your relationship, after you both felt comfortable enough with each other, lovemaking would definitely be one of his favourite ways to show you how much you mean to him.

Usually sex with him is slow and sensual, with a lot of quiet grunting, sweet whispers, eye contact, and holding hands.

He is not super vocal, but would always mutter in your neck or ear "I love you" and "You feel so good, God!".

(Likes it when you are loud tho, it definitely boosts his ego a bit!)

Due to his health, he is not really into rough sex, neither he has the stamina or the energy to perform it. Still, if you are somewhat of a freak in the bedroom, he will reluctantly agree to try using toys or tie you up while pleasuring you.

Speaking of pleasure...

So good at oral! I don't think he even realises it, as he was very embarrassed the first time he buried his head between your thighs, but he definitely has a natural talent for it!

As I said above, he is not into PDA, let alone trying intimacy ANYWHERE outside your bedroom, BUT with a bit of begging, whining, and assuring him at least 10 times the door is locked, he will let you climb on his desk and spread your legs before him. The combination of his tongue and fingers is guaranteed to make you see stars!

He also enjoys receiving, but for some reason always feels embarrassed and shy, so he doesn't let you do it often. Again you either have to beg him for it or he has to feel extra stressed to let you do it.

Your usual sex position is missionary, as he loves being able to stare at your face and it also gives him control, without excessive movements, but he also enjoys you riding him. Not only is the least painful for his leg and back but he also loves watching your tits bounce.

Even tho as a man of culture he appreciates BOTH your tits and your ass.

When it comes to aftercare, he is very gentle and to be honest, often more tired than you. He enjoys you pampering him and showering him with affection.

cc artwork: "Arcane" Concept Art

[ceaselesswatchersspecialboy]

Love the not who he seems au!

I've got some(a lot of?) questions if that's alright?

After Ford finally wakes up, you mentioned that Bill watches over the littler twins' dreams, does he do something similar with Stan? do they chat in the Mindscape or anything? does he avoid Stan?

what are(of there are?) the immediate consequences to the relationship between them now that Ford is awake?

Has 'Stanfraud' ever had any interactions with any Unicorn hair?

What would happen if Stanfraud/Bill ever got any on him? Would he have an allergic reaction? Or other ill reactions?

Have the time police ever given Stanfraud/Bill any trouble?

In the 30 years that Stan and Bill have known each other, have they ever saved each other's life? Or gotten protective/defensive for each other?

Alright that's all for now! Bye!

Lots of questions are always alright!

Let’s go through all these:

— He definitely does it with Stan too. He doesn’t really have any reason to avoid Stan, except Ford obviously being against it. But… he won’t tell if Stan won’t. He makes excuses as to why he’s visiting Stan’s dreams so much, which Stan doesn’t comment on, he’s just oddly grateful he’s still around. And bleeding into the next question: this all being said, a few old angers have risen to the surface, seeing how broken down his brother is again, knowing Bill’s behind it, so sometimes their conversations get a little tense and Bill does avoid him for a few days after. Or he doesn’t, and gets a little to pushy, lashing out at Stan.

It doesn’t help that Stan feels some guilt still speaking with Bill because of Ford, and because of how adamant his brother has been about Bill being a threat to them. But, it isn’t as easy as just telling him to go away. He knows for a fact Bill wouldn’t listen. The kids would be upset too. They don’t now the depths of all this stuff.

And, not an immediate consequence, but the new tension will eventually bubble into a very intense argument between Stan and Bill that’ll probably have consequences for everyone.

— You know, I hadn’t quite considered that, but I think so yes! He has negative reactions to anything that works as an ingredient in repellent against him. Unicorn hair, definitely more of an allergic reaction, akin to something like hay fever. But something like Mercury probably burns him.

— I have thought about their being an ‘episode’ where Bill’s rivalry with Time Baby comes up, thanks to Dipper and Mabel messing with time, but I’d need to think more about that to give a proper answer. I don’t think he and Stan have ever been given any trouble prior, being as they haven’t messed with time themselves. Bill might try and get a rise out of any time agents if he spots them though, like Blendin. Just for fun.

— They have absolutely saved each other’s lives and that’s a catalyst in their relationship becoming what it is. This is another thing I need to think more on, but being as Stan didn’t fake his death, unfortunately some of his past comes back to haunt him, with old friends putting two and two together with his fake identities. I’m not sure where that would go yet, but I know Bill would step in and rescue him. Naturally, he claims it’s because he needs Stan to get out of this body, but he isn’t really convincing when he says that. There’s also likely a situation where Bill has gotten himself in danger, and Stan rescues him, but I haven’t settled on that. There’s probably a few more minor instances of them saving each other too.

And yes! They do get protective/defensive over each other. On Stan’s end it’s strange. Initially, he was having to protect Ford’s body from Bill. Bill was the threat. But now, he sometimes finds himself actually protecting Bill… because he’s his friend. He’ll jump to his defence about his behaviours if someone comments on them harshly for example. He’s the only one allowed to give him shit for being weird. And with Bill, he’s gone from trying to rile Stan up, calling him useless, a failure of a brother, to getting riled up himself when someone tries to have a go at Stan instead.

If either got physically hurt, they’d also be protective. They genuinely have each other’s backs. Stan at least has the excuse he’s looking out for his brother’s body, making sure Bill doesn’t damage it any further, and can poke fun at Bill later for not having an excuse.

“Sure you don’t just give a shit about this old ‘bag of flesh’?”

“Oh, please. Don’t flatter yourself, Fez. Your heart could stop right now and I’d dance over your corpse.”

I realise they’re basically just in a constant game of chicken on who’s going to admit they care out loud first — while sober.

I hope these have been satisfactory! Sorry if there’s a lot of questions I’m still unsure on or figuring out the answers too. I’m developing this AU as I answer all these.

[intimidating-fettuccine]

Inbox is open! Let's see if my request is accepted 😅

So! Can I request Jane, Jeff, and Zalgo's reaction to their s/o burrowing their chest because "world hard and cold, titty soft and warm." This is with the assumption that they're comfortable with this level of physical affection.

Your request is accepted, and incredibly appreciated. I thrive on this stuff anon, thank you 🥺

Jane:

Jane has come to find this behavior of yours incredibly amusing. It's come to the point that when she sees you approaching her with any sort of sadness on your face she opens her arms wide and beckons you to her with a smile. She'll probably squish you into her chest real nice and tight with a laugh before relaxing back with you. I think she enjoys cuddling with you like that, laying on her side with your face smooshed up in her chest. She lays there with you, running one hand through your hair and the other doing comforting strokes up and down your back. She'll ask you if you want to talk about anything, and if you do (your voice muffled by the tits you have your face buried into) she listens attentively and responds in any helpful way that she can in an attempt to soothe your worries.

If you're not into talking about whatever is stressing you, she alternates between resting in silence with you, telling you stories about her days she hasn't shared yet, or maybe even humming or singing you a song as she holds you. With Jane's treatment, it's honestly damn hard not to fall asleep in her arms like that, and she'll stay in that position with you until you wake up, often falling asleep with you. Whenever you're feeling stressed she always tells you you're welcome to bury yourself in her chest, because sometimes all you need to feel better is a face full of soft tits, which makes you flustered and makes her laugh really hard. She might tease you for it every now and then, but it makes her just as happy and relaxed to have you snuggled up to her like that.

Jeff:

Jeff welcomes any sort of affection from you, especially if you're not feeling well, however, he was not prepared for what greeted him today. He'd just gotten home and had jogged up to greet you, his arms open for a hug, but he didn't know you'd just walk right up and shove your face into his chest, nuzzling into him. He chuckles but asks what you're doing, and when you say that special phrase, "world hard and cold, titty soft and warm", he can't help but burst out into loud laughter. His pecs are big enough that you can kind of move them around a little too when they're not flexed, so if you try and squish his pecs around or up to your face it makes him laugh even harder.

He's quick to scoop you up and carry you to bed, and he'll lay on his back with you resting on top of him and let you cuddle into him as much as you want to, however, you have to deal with him repeatedly gushing over how cute you are and teasing you for doing this in the first place, but he doesn't discourage it at all. If anything, he tells you it makes him happy he can bring you so much comfort, and he reminds you that if you ever need cuddle time all you have to do is ask. He'll keep you safe from the cold hard world and provide you with as much attention as you need. Really, he's just flustered from you doing that to him, and so incredibly happy to have a silly partner like you that makes him feel so loved and cherished. Will also probably tease you by asking you every now and then if you need "titty time" as he's started calling it.

Zalgo:

Often stuck in his office, you usually have to approach Zalgo to ask for snuggles, and of course, he always obliges you, happy to be able to get some physical affection despite his busy work life. When he asks what's troubling you, I would absolutely tell him the same phrase, because while it'll make Jeff/Jane laugh, it makes Zalgo SO confused. He just attributes it as a human thing, and hesitantly tells you, "You may cuddle up to my, uh... 'Tits' if you wish to, my love, if it would make you happy." Which is just about one of the funniest things you'll probably hear come out of his mouth, especially with how unconfident he sounds and the fact that he's clearly blushing, but he's just happy you find his love and affection so calming, especially considering his status as a demon.

You can crawl right into his lap while he works and smoosh your face into his chest, and he'll cradle you with one arm while he uses the other to continue doing his work. He'll probably carry out some small talk with you, happy to have a bit of extra time with you, and he'll ask you to tell him about all of the things you've been up to recently, cherishing moments like this. In fact, with how stressed you seem, he's probably likely to end work a little early so he can spoil you with a nice relaxing bath and some more cuddles in the privacy of your shared bedroom, so he can love on you and not have to worry about work at the same time. His chest is yours to cuddle up to whenever need be, so don't hesitate to ask him.