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

[fastfists]

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

[mallory524]

going out

bob x reader

pictures from pinterest

summary- You and Bob finally spend some time together one morning, but you find yourself rushing to defend him when he gets overwhelmed and people aren’t kind to him.

word count- 1,691

tags- THUNDERBOLTS* SPOILERS, fluff, pining, just a little language, hand holding, stranger being rude to bob :(

notes- the thunderbolts live in the watchtower (previously the avengers towers) because that’s what the post credit scene made it seem like and if I’m wrong I don’t care because I love the idea of them all being roomies :)

Although things hadn’t gone as expected, they are plenty of perks that come with being the New Avengers. The group hangs out together in the Watchtower all the time, none of you have to hide in the shadows anymore, and all the other accompanying “hero” perks. Helping the city by reversing the Void damage thrust the Thunderbolts into the spotlight, which typically just meant being waved to on the streets, and a lot of being told “your money’s no good here” with a big smile when you go out to eat.

Although the group fights a lot, there’s an unspoken understanding that you’re a real team now. More and more often the bickering is playful rather than actually malicious. At risk of sounding sentimental, real bonds are being made. Of course none of you would ever admit that out loud. Except maybe Alexei.

Bob’s enjoying his new life, too. Probably. You assume. He’s still a quiet guy, and sometimes he opts to stay in and read when you all go out for lunch or something. He’s still working through a lot, but everyone else is too, so you know to give him space. It’s clear to all of you that he’s slowly getting a bit more comfortable here with every passing day.

One cold morning, while everyone is sleeping in, you hear rustling and muttering in the other room. You throw on a robe and silently walk into the other room to investigate. Bob’s on the ground picking a bunch of papers up, and he whips his head around when he hears your footsteps.

“Sorry, I accidentally knocked all of Bucky’s things over. I’ve got it”, he says as you sit down next to him and help anyway. For a split second your fingers brush, but he pulls away, almost instinctively. You’d noticed that physical touch in general didn’t seem to bother him that much, but little soft moments like that make him nervous.

He’s gotten a bit of a handle on accidentally showing people memories they didn’t want to see, but maybe he’s nervous that he’d do it again without meaning to.

“Hey, have you had anything to eat yet?”, you say quietly, trying not to wake anyone else up. He shakes his head.

“Do you want to get something? There’s a coffee place I go to a lot. They have little pastries and stuff, too, if any of that sounds appetizing...”

He thinks about it for a second, and then smiles and nods. “Yeah. Okay.”

Inside the coffee shop, it’s cozy and warm. You take off your large sweater, and your phone falls out of the pocket and onto the floor, and both you and Bob reach down for it at the same time. Your hands brush again and he nervously pulls away again. You lean in a little closer and speak quietly. “Bob if you’re worried about-”

“No no, I’m not- it’s not that. That’s under control. I’m just… it’s nothing”. He’s clearly having trouble expressing himself, and he doesn’t seem to want to, so you shake your head and smile politely.

“Hey man, don’t worry about it.” You get a smile in return, which is always nice to see. Bob has a nice smile. It’s so sweet and warm… you can’t deny it any longer. Bob is really cute.

He felt the same way about you, but he’s way too scared to tell you something like that. He’s already jittery enough every time your hands touch…

He really likes being around you. He’s just too shy to ask you to spend time with him, so he’s thrilled that you asked him.

You start to order your usual drink, and Bob gets in the line next to you. The girl taking your order remembers you from the last time you were there, so you talk to her for a little. She’s really sweet! The guy taking Bob’s order is not.

You go to the station with the straws and napkins, and you quietly watch Bob try to order. You realize you didn’t really ask him if he was ready to order, and now he’s at the front of this line trying to figure out what he wants. Bob’s starting to stammer a little and this barista guy is cutting him no slack.

“I’m sorry I don’t know what I’m going to get, I’m thinking…”

“Sounds like something you should’ve figured out before you got to the front of the line”, he says, scoffing a little.

“Yeah you’re right, it was just really fast and-” Bob looks down and shuffles his feet a bit.

“You know there’s people behind you.”

“I know, I’m sorry, I’m just… um…” Bob trails off, and you can tell that the idea of holding up the line and making all these people wait for him is only making this worse. He’s nervously laughing to try to keep it light, but you can also see him fiddling with the ends of his sleeves while squinting to read the small writing on the menu. You feel your heart break a little just watching him.

“Dude if you seriously can’t figure it out maybe you could get out of line”

Just as Bob is about to step away, you decide you’re not going to watch this anymore and you step up next to him.

“Hey do you know who the hell you’re talking to?”, you say in a hushed, almost professional tone with your arms crossed. “You’re talking to someone who helped save everyone here like a month ago.”

The guy’s eyes widen with realization. “I am so sorry, I forgot, you’re those guys. I was out of town but I saw you on the news-”

“Yeah that’s us. But that doesn’t even matter, you shouldn’t be treating any of your customers like this. Do you do this to everyone? Does your manager know that? Sorry not everyone can read that crazy small print on your menu-”

You continue for a little while, and Bob takes a tiny step backwards so he can be out of your way. This is a side to you that Bob hadn’t really seen. Sure, you bicker with Walker and Ava all the time, and he’s seen how well you can fight of course, (you even had to briefly fight him that one time), but in your everyday lives, you’re always so kind and patient with him. You’re nice to people who come up to you on the street and ask for a picture, and you’re nice to strangers who are rude to you, and you’re nice to the Thunderbolts most of the time, so it’s weird for Bob to see you actually go off on someone like that… and it’s all to defend him?? Strangely, it’s one of the sweetest things someone’s done for him in a while.

“- and you’re lucky I’m speaking quietly. I could be a whole lot louder and I could make a big scene but for your sake I’ll-” but you stop talking when you hear Bob clear his throat.

“I think I know what I want to order now”

“Go ahead”, you say with a little smile as you step out of the way. Bob tells his order to the terrified young man who keeps looking at you like he’s expecting you to lunge at him.

Another barista, who doesn’t realize what just happened, recognizes the two of you and walks up to let you know that it’s all on the house. It’s hard for you and Bob to keep from giggling just a little bit.

After you get your drinks and the muffin Bob ordered, you step back outside and start walking down the street together, enjoying your food and drinks.

“Thanks. You really didn’t have to do all that. I wasn’t ready, I should’ve been ready before I got up there.”

“No, no don’t worry about that. That’s my fault, I didn’t give you any time to read the menu and figure out what you wanted. Besides, that guy was just rude. That’ll teach him to mess with the New Avengers, am I right?” and Bob chuckles quietly.

“Yeah, I don’t really know if I deserve any credit for helping save everyone when I kinda caused all of that in the first place…”

“Hey, you know that’s not your fault”, you say in a softer tone. “You didn’t do any of that on purpose”

“Yeah I know.”

A car then loudly backfires, startling both of you. Bob stops walking and grabs your hand. When he sees that it’s fine and nothing’s wrong, he’s a little embarrassed.

“Sorry I didn’t…” Bob smiles at you awkwardly and trails off. He’s about to let go when you shake your head and gently squeeze his hand. “I’m always a bit jumpy, too, don’t worry about it.”

The two of you continue walking, and you notice that he’s not letting go of your hand, now that he knows you’re fine with it. Maybe he would’ve done that a while ago if he knew you wouldn’t mind…

You walk in very comfortable silence all the way back to the tower, refusing to let go of one another’s hands. Bob feels like he can’t. Like if he let go it might never happen again. He does decide to break the silence, though.

“Y/n, I had a good time” he says as he takes another big sip of his iced coffee. “Thanks for asking me to go out with you. Well, not like go out with you but you know like, coffee and this walk and stuff”.

“Well thank you for joining me. We should do this more”, you say, smiling warmly at him. Just then, you reach the tower. Walker’s heading out, and Bucky’s right behind him. The two of you immediately let go of each other’s hands, but Walker looks at you both a little funny. “Hey guys…”

“Hey”, you say in unison, acting natural as you walk into the elevator and start to laugh a little once the doors close.

“No Bucky I swear they were holding hands. It was so weird”

“I think you’re seeing things, John”

[amara-scott]

Paired for trouble.

Pairing: Mattheo Riddle x Reader

Summary: When you are partnered with Mattheo for a Care of Magical Creatures assignment, you're convinced the universe is punishing you. He’s smug, reckless, and so infuriatingly attractive it makes you want to scream. But when your bickering gets you lost in the Forbidden Forest, survival takes precedence—until you realize you're not just fighting magical creatures, but the growing spark between you.

“You’re glaring again, Ravenclaw,” he says as you tried to swat a stubborn bug off your shoulder. “I’m imagining how to hex you,” you replied sweetly.

The chuckle followed made your glare all the more sharply. The forest adventure turned into an odd hunt for the right path quite quickly, you would have never thought to get lost here- not to mention with Mattheo Riddle. Infuriating is the most fitting word you would use to describe that boy.

"Did your Ravenclaw witts already figured out how to navigate us out?" His playful tone was laced with a tint of seriousness and you rolled your eyes, still walking ahead and not looking back, "Me? What about you? Aren't you the one who wanted to leave the path in the first place? Go find it again."

He didn't reply, the groan forming in your throat had no time coming out as you heard rustling from behind you. Stopping dead in your tracks you felt your heart hammering, turning slowly.

Your clammy hand grasping the wand you held in your hand the hole time, only tighter this time. Eyes wide open to not miss a single thing.

"Riddle!" He wasn't behind you, nor anywhere near you. No reply. Just dead silence. A few droplets hit your head, wetting your crown of hair, "Shit.." you curse, briefly glancing up and noticing the thick grey clouds closing in above you.

Another twig snaps, your eyes back on the bushes in front of you, "M- Mattheo?"

Nothing.

A few ravens made you almost shriek as they left their spots in a tree nearby, croaking to announce their departure. You suck in air, almost stumbling back.

"Boo!"

Hands wrap around your upper arms from behind, your body cringing and eyes squeezed shut. Then he laughs. That laugh. That boy!

In one swift motion you spin around, holding your wand against his neck and gritting your teeth, "having fun?" He still grins while tilting his head up slightly, your wand pushing deeper into his skin.

"Lots of it. You should try it sometime." He steps back, cutting you off as you open your mouth, ready to fling curses left and right.

"Come on now, I think I found a path." You don't believe your eyes as he casually walks off, as if nothing happened. Scaring you half to death, in the forbidden forest. And to imagine you almost– almost– were worried for him a minute ago. Almost.

—

The path turned out to really be one. Surprisingly so. Which you were glad about but also annoyed by. He wouldn't let you live it down that he was the one who found the path and brought you back to school.

Shaking your head you notice the light slowly fading through the crowns of the trees, the leaves rustling with the wind as more rain came down. Luckily you knew the Impervius Charm. Usually that's seventh year stuff but you always had a knack for Charms, Profesor Flitwick praising you almost every lesson. Much to the annoyance of the boy who was walking merely a few feet before you now. In pure silence for the last couple minutes.

"Great path you found. When will we be back? It's getting cold. And dark."

"Thanks for pointing out the obvious, sunshine. Be grateful I even found a path in the first place, without me–"

"–without you, I wouldn't even be in this mess!" He throws his head back dramatically, slowing to a stop, and turns to me.

"Do you ever shut up?" Your jaw almost drops at his remark, teasing another grin from him, apparently happy with your reaction.

"Excuse you, it was your fault we ended up–" His eyes left yours and drifted over your shoulder, to the side. He then takes off, running away, "hey! Where are you going?" You yelled and turned, looking after him. A light flickering in the distance. With your eyes squinted, you follow him quickly, not wanting to stand alone any second longer.

"Mattheo, wait!" Your muddy boots carry you through the mushy leaves, your robe now wet from the branches swiping across the fabric as you push through to not loose him in the forest.

"Matt-" You stop dead in your tracks as you almost collide with his back, placing your hands on his shoulders to stop the impact.

"Thought you couldn't stand me." Even in the dim light shining from the lamp ahead you saw the huge smirk and stretched out bruise across his lips. You huff and step back, thankful for the lack of sunlight.

"No witty comeback? Have I finally caught you off guard?" You shive his shoulder and step past him, an abandoned, crumbling hut coming into view, the lamp light flickering and dancing on the wooden panels.

"I guess we'll need to find shelter here before it really starts pouring."

With a gulp you glance at Mattheo, his posture also hesitant as you look back at the hut.

—

"Don’t get comfortable. This is just a pit stop."

Mattheo settles into a dusty corner with an exaggerated sigh, "I’m already comfortable. You? You look like you’re ready to murder me in my sleep."

You glance around and pick up a quilt, tossing it at his head. "If I wanted to murder you, Riddle, you wouldn’t have made it to the hut." He grinned then, as he pulled the blanket off his face, "So you’re saying I should be flattered? I think you just admitted you like me."

"The night is not over yet." He laughed at your attempt of a threat and you sigh, rolling your eyes and grabbing another blanket you found, no pillows, but at least some blankets. Mattheo got to work on a small fire in the fire place, Cracking the legs off a chair, you can't help watching him, flexing his muscles, his robe long discarded, claiming he's "way too warm". Boys.

"You know- for someone who claims to hate me, you stare an odd much." You've been caught red handed, diverting your eyes before his find yours and gulp, pulling the blanket a bit higher.

"Rubbish." You mumbled, his stare just as intense as he throws the last leg and back of the chair into the fire.

"Whatever you say. Don't come crawling to me in the middle of the night though, I'm not a hugger."

"Wouldn't dream of it, Riddle."

"Sure, night, sunshine."

"Night."

The cracking of the fire soothed you, the surrounding rest– not so much. Knowing you were in the forbidden forest, a storm brewing outside and the windows creaking with every gust of wind– not a good feeling. You couldn't believe he wasn't affected at least a bit by everything. He was just better at masking it. Right?

After running your mind through every terrible and possible outcome of the night, you finally grew tired enough to close your eyes for more than a few seconds.

—

"CRACK!"

You almost jolt up form the ground, the sound came from outside. You shuffle around, your tired eyes searching for your wand and as you grab it, you try to make out Mattheo across the room. He fell asleep sitting by the wall, leaving you the floor before the fire place. His shivering form still fast asleep. Great. What if there's an Acromantula outside? Or a- werewolf? Gosh, you couldn't think of that now, you needed to wake Mattheo.

"Hey." You whispered, trying to be as loud as you possibly could. But he didn't even flinch. Groaning internally you glanced up at the window, nothing seemed to be there. So you carefully crawled across the floor, the wood now cold, the fire place out long ago.

As you reach his form you lift a hand, debating wether to shake him or gently tap him- but what if this was an emergency? You resorted to tapping his shoulder. A bit more forcefully. "Mattheo–"

Your whisper was interrupted as he jolts awake, grabbing your wrist and pinning you to the floor in one fluid motion. You shriek and look up at him as he hovers above you, hand still tightly holding onto your wrist and his wand in the other.

"Are you crazy?" He mumbles, his voice tense and eyes now finally fully awake. His stare mimicked mine as he kept hovering above me.

"Sorry– could you–" I gulp and the heat rushing to my face was luckily masked by the darkness engulfing the room. Only a streak of moonlight casting a line of light across Mattheo's face.

"Yeah–" He shuffles back, finally letting go of my wrist and sitting back in his spot, a deep sigh leaving his lips. I carefully peel myself off the ground and sit across from him. His eyes avoiding mine.

"I– I heard a noise outside–" You whisper but stop, seeing the amusement on his face, brown eyes twinkling with enjoyment, "what are you smirking at, huh?" You fold your arms, growing even more irritated with him than usually.

"You come to me for comfort because you heard– a noise?"

The wind howled like a wounded creature, shrieking through the skeletal branches of the Forbidden Forest. Rain lashed against the wooden walls of the abandoned hunting lodge, the roof groaning under the force of the storm. The fire in the corner had long since died, leaving the space cloaked in cold shadows.

You wrapped your arms around yourself, suppressing a shiver as you glared at Mattheo Riddle, who sat against the far wall, watching you with an expression that teetered between amusement and curiosity. His dark curls were still damp from the rain, stray strands falling over his forehead, and the flickering candlelight cast sharp angles across his face, highlighting the ever-present smirk that played at his lips.

“You’re taking this awfully well,” you muttered, shifting uncomfortably on the splintered wooden floor. “Most people would be a little more concerned about being stranded in the middle of the Forbidden Forest overnight.”

Mattheo stretched out his legs, his boot knocking against yours as if he had all the time in the world. “Concerned? No. Annoyed? Maybe. Though I have to admit, the company makes up for it.”

You scoffed. “Oh, how lucky I must feel.”

He chuckled, low and warm, but you could hear the edge in it—the glint of something unreadable behind his casual demeanor. “You really should learn to take a compliment, sunshine.”

You ignored him, shifting your focus to the warped wooden door. It rattled against the wind, the latch barely holding, and for a moment, you swore you heard something outside—something heavier than rain. You tensed, gripping the edge of your cloak, your breath catching in your throat.

Mattheo noticed. Of course he did. “Relax. Whatever’s out there won’t get in.”

You shot him a sharp look. “You sound very sure of that.”

His smirk widened, but there was something behind it this time—something unsettlingly genuine. “I am.”

Another gust of wind slammed against the door, followed by a deep, dragging sound just beyond the threshold. Your stomach twisted, fingers clenching involuntarily. You weren’t easily scared, but there was something about being surrounded by absolute darkness, with no wandlight and no way back until morning, that made your heart hammer a little too fast.

You hated that Mattheo could probably hear it.

“You’re scared,” he murmured, voice softer now, like he was enjoying the realization.

You lifted your chin. “No, I’m being rational.”

“Rational,” he repeated, as if testing the word. “Rational is knowing that the moment I opened my eyes, you were already curled into me like a frightened little thing.”

Your face burned. “I was waking you up.”

His grin was slow and dangerous, his head tilting just slightly. “Right. Of course you were.”

Before you could snap at him, another sound echoed from the woods—a crunching of twigs, a breath of movement so faint you might have imagined it. But Mattheo stiffened, barely perceptibly, and you knew he’d heard it too.

You didn’t speak. Neither did he. The moment stretched, thick with unspoken tension. Outside, the wind howled again, but beneath it, something else lurked—something that made the hairs on your arms stand on end.

Mattheo moved first. Slowly, deliberately, he reached for his wand, his expression hardening into something unfamiliar. Something dangerous.

Your pulse thrummed. “You said nothing could get in.”

“I said whatever’s out there wouldn’t.” His voice was quiet, controlled, but you could hear the shift—the edge of something real behind the usual arrogance. “There’s a difference.”

Your throat tightened. The temperature in the hut felt colder somehow, the air thicker.

He glanced at you then, and for the first time since you’d met him, there was no teasing in his eyes. Just something sharp. Something calculating.

“Stay behind me,” he said.

And for once, you didn’t argue.

The door groaned on its hinges, and then, with a deafening crack, it flew open. Rain lashed inside, drenching the floorboards as the hulking silhouette of a figure loomed in the doorway.

“Blimey—there yeh are!” Hagrid’s voice boomed through the storm, his massive frame barely squeezing through the entrance. “I been lookin’ all over fer yeh two! What in Merlin’s name d’yeh think yeh’re doin’ out ‘ere?”

Relief flooded through you so quickly your knees nearly buckled. Mattheo exhaled sharply, slipping his wand back into his robes with a muttered curse.

“Got half the staff in a right state, yeh have,” Hagrid continued, shaking his shaggy head as he stomped further inside, dripping rainwater everywhere. “Professor McGonagall’s ready ter skin yeh alive, an’ I dun even wanna think what Snape’s got planned fer detention.”

You swallowed, exchanging a glance with Mattheo. He was still smirking—of course he was—but there was something in his eyes that told you he wasn’t as unaffected as he pretended to be.

“C’mon then,” Hagrid grunted, ushering you both toward the door. “Let’s get yeh back before McGonagall hexes me fer not findin’ yeh sooner.”

The trek back to the castle was a blur of rain and muttered complaints from Hagrid about “reckless students” and “runnin’ off into the forest like a pair o’ mad hippogriffs.” But despite the cold, despite the exhaustion settling into your bones, you couldn’t shake the lingering tension between you and Mattheo—the awareness of something unspoken that still crackled in the air like static.

By the time the towering silhouette of Hogwarts came into view, golden windows glowing through the downpour, you were drenched and shivering, but oddly… you didn’t entirely mind.

The moment you stepped inside the warmth of the castle, voices exploded around you but all you could focus on was the imposing figure of Professor McGonagall at the top of the stairs, her lips pressed into a thin line.

"Miss YLN, Mr. Riddle," she said crisply. "If you ever decide to take a midnight stroll into the Forbidden Forest again, do let me know so I can personally prepare the hospital wing for your arrival."

Mattheo let out a quiet chuckle beside you. "Missed you too, Professor."

Her sharp glare was enough to silence even him. But a tinge of relieve shimmered in her eyes as well.

You sighed. This was going to be a long night.

Because somehow, someway, you knew this night wasn’t something you—or Mattheo—would be forgetting anytime soon.

Harry Potter Masterlist Link

[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.

[eveysnotebook]

sharing a bed with…hal, barry, roy

finally writing for my faves again!!

these are some quick headcanons i’m writing on a road trip 🧡

including: hal jordan, barry allen, roy harper

Hal Jordan:

• falls asleep the second his head hits the pillow.

• literally, can and will fall asleep in 5 minutes, maybe less

• if you have trouble falling asleep, (like me!) hal will try to stay up with you, but no promises!

• he goes to bed whenever he feels like it, which is usually around 11-2

• literally owns one, sad pillow and a throw blanket. he is a mess of a man!!

• luckily you help him out, he now has 2!!!!!! pillows!!!! and a big fluffy blanket, including his old, semi ratty throw blanket

• he’s okay sleeping with lights or no light. he adjusts very well and quickly, so he’ll sleep with whatever you prefer!

• freaking worst snore-er ever!!! he sounds like a old truck on its last adventure. its loud and obnoxious, but it also ends up feeling like home,

• its like your special white noise lmfao

• only semi cuddly, he’ll reach out to hold your arm in his sleep. he also is a bed hog, get out of his way!!!

• his arms also are wild in his sleep, throwing one over his head, other reaching out for you • likes NO noise when he’s sleep, no white noise, no whirl of fans. silence plz and thanks

• he sleeps very stretched out, takes up most of the bed…

Barry Allen:

• has some trouble sleeping, it takes him around 30 mins - an hour

• he goes to bed at different times, it depends on what he did that day and how tired he is

• one night he goes to bed at 11 and next night he goes to bed at 9!!

• he loves to stay up, limbs tangled with yours as he rambles about stuff to you!!

• he uses a very dim nightlight, if it isn’t bright enough for some light to come in through the windows

• he luckily doesn’t hog the bed or blankets, it’s a perfect split between the two of you

• Barry likes to make tea before bed!! he has all your favorite flavors too

• he always sleeps in cozy, fluffy socks :3

• sleep cuddles!!! expect to wake up in the dead of night to find him draped across you

• follows the no blue light rule before bed, he’s usually winding down at least 40 mins before he plans for sleep

• if he’s really busy on a case or something, he will forget that rule

• he’s a morning bird. he wakes up just a little before the sun, he likes to look at you in your ethereal, sunlight face

• he’s really into doing morning routines together, or just any and all routines together , actually just slowly start incorporating him into your routines

• also I think his temperature would run a little warmer than the average person, so in winter you have a nice heater blanket (barry himself)

Roy Harper:

• he goes to bed usually around 12 pm

• some nights he can pass out within 10 minutes, other nights it takes literal hours. it really just depends on the day he’s had

• when he can’t sleep, he gets up to do something else for awhile, so there’s lots of nights where you wake up and find him in the living room, playing a video game

• he can get around just fine with a wink of sleep, so staying up doesn’t bother him too much

• he snores and drools a lot, you’ll wake up and he’s drooling on your pillow

• he’s a sleep kicker!! you wake up with bruises on your legs and lower back and your just like ???? wtf????

• moves around alot too, won’t stay still and tosses and turns like his life depends on it

• sometimes when he’s really sleepy but just can’t fall asleep, he plays his guitar

• he doesn’t care about the no screens before bed rule, he will watch tv and then go to bed minutes later

• he likes white noise, so he has a box fan on usually, it’s nice in the hot summers

• that being said, he also enjoys sleeping with a window open, the cool air and breeze feels nice and he loves hearing the outside world

• usually sleeps shirtless and it’s hawt 😍

What’s this?? a bonus character?! :0

Kyle Rayner!!

• he goes to sleep really late, like around 1 am if not later

• he claims he is his most inspired self at night, at that he either needs to jot down his ideas or start them

• he lays like all cradled up, knees up to his chest, arms cradling his legs

• he drools too :)) but not nearly as much as hal, just little pools

• biggest stinkiest worst blanket hog!! you have a good amount of blankets on your bed and he takes them all for himself!!!!

• he likes to wrap his arm around you before sleep / in his sleep

• sometimes you’ll catch him doodling in bed, leaving eraser bits everywhere (as an artist i draw in bed too, and despise eraser bits)

• big yawns always, stretches and yaaawwwwnns

• play with his hair right NEOW!!!

thank you for reading <33

started: 5.30.25

finished: 6.2.25

[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.

[the-resident-vampire]

needle & thread. \\ l. kennedy

summary: sometimes, it can be a little boring in a suitshop but there's always at least the one interaction you won't stop thinking about.

pairing: leon kennedy x reader

dedicated to @ashiemochi <3

also irl, I work in a suit store - currently got promoted to store manager so technically I run one?? anyway, this stemmed from a conversation that I said Leon's dress shirt is waaaay too tight across the chest and anyway -

Time ticks, and ticks, you count down the minutes.

Shift ends in four, maybe five hours - eternity as far as you were concerned. It was a slow afternoon, a few disgruntled grandpas getting ready for weddings that they had no interest in. You had let a few part-timers leave for the day, no sense in keeping them when there was hardly anything to do or anyone passing through the door.

Busying yourself refolding tables, the chime of the door goes off.

"Hi, welcome in!" You say cheerfully, mustering up your customer voice as best you can.

He was gorgeous, you hesitated to almost joke that he must be in the wrong store - he possibly couldn't be wanting to be here. No, your shop catered to an older demographic compared to its sister store down the street.

"Hey, how fast could you get me fitted?" He asks, his voice soft like warm honey, "I got, uh, a flight in three hours."

Sugar plums dancing across your vision melt away and are quickly replaced with your more professional demeanor. You took a good look at him, he was buff. Definitely works out, not in the obnoxious gym bro way - no, he was lean but muscular but a slim fit wouldn't look right. No.

"Uh... you just gonna keep starin' or what, princess?"

You snap out of thought, "Sorry! I, uh - okay, what color, and what fit do you like? Do you know your size? It's totally okay if you don't!"

With shaky hands, you pulled your measuring tape from your cardigan pocket. Bright orange, you were worried it wouldn't exactly go around his chest, he was built like a goddamn greek god for all you knew. Measuring him shouldn't be too much of a problem, truck had just stopped by for the day.

He chuckles, "Uh, navy - and slim fit's too snug but I don't wanna look like I've been digging through my old man's closet. Size wise, can't recall."

You nodded, "Okay! Stand in front of me, and look toward the front, arms out."

He walks toward you, and there was definitely an aura to him that you weren't used to. He was cool, confident. Definitely not like the usual crowd of people you're used to.

He shucks off the biker jacket and lord have mercy, you never really paid much attention to the looks of most customers that come in unless if its the small things like bad breath or if they were the creeps that tried to make a pass at you, once or twice.

"I'm sorry for giving you trouble," He says as he turns to face the front of the store, you swallow thickly, "I have this big meeting and thought I got a suit, it slipped my mind."

You laugh it off, "I've had a best man come in the day of his brother's wedding to rent a suit, he was not happy about being told no. Trust me, you're giving me no trouble."

"Sounds like interesting people." He says as he raises his arms, you step closer and smell vanilla and spice as you take the measuring tape around his chest, "must be fun here, yeah?"

You sighed, "Sometimes, groomzillas scare me at this point."

He laughs, "Groomzillas? Thought it was the bride."

"Not always, no." You said as you paid attention to the tape, making a mental note - chest size is a 48, "Okay, drop your arms."

You take the tape over his bicep, "Measuring your overarm, promise."

"Not the first time I've been tied up."

You about choke, face flushed as you counted seven down or at least tried to - your mind instantly imagining the most smutty scenario that a book couldn't even publish, "Okay, uh, we're gonna try a modern fit - classic, but tapered like a slim. I have a tailor in, she can definitely try to get some minor stuff done to make it look more fitted if you don't mind waiting."

"Sounds good, I'm at your mercy after all, sweetheart." He says, "Name's Leon, by the way."

You nod, "Nice to meet you, Leon, I promise i won't have you looking like a mess when you get out of here. But I am gonna have you try stuff on."

Fishing through for his size in a bright navy color, you feel his eyes burning through your back. Taking a deep breath, you managed to find one coat, "Here, try this on. It should fit your shoulders, we can take the sides in of your coat for a tapered look."

He shrugs on the jacket, it looked great in the shoulders and arm. Just a bit blousey from the back. He turns to face you, "In your expert opinion?"

"We'll take in the sides, and that should help." You guaranteed, "What size in pants do you wear?"

"Couldn't you just measure me?" He asks, cocking an eyebrow.

You let out a small joke, "You don't know what you wear in jeans?"

He flushed red, "Right, shit, okay - I'm between a 34-36."

He shrugs off the coat, before setting it down on one of the racks. You fish through for pants, guessing that he'd prefer more a 32 length. You hand him the pants, "Fitting rooms are in the back, push open on the door. I'll get the tailor out and we'll get the initial stuff we talked about marked and I'll have her work on them."

"Thanks, you're amazing." He says before he takes off to the fitting rooms.

You took a deep breath before going to the back but making a quick right into the tailor shop, telling the older woman you had someone for her to fit.

Once Leon got in front of the mirror, he caught you staring. You swallowed thickly, "How do the pants fit?"

"Fit great, you're pretty good at this." He says with a grin, "How long have you been doing this?"

"A year."

Helping him with the jacket, the tailor comes out. You look to her and smile, "Hey, is there any way we can get the sides in for him? We'll possibly have to lower the collar, what do you think?"

The older woman studies him, "How soon do you need it?"

"He's got a flight in three hours."

The older woman sighs, "Can be done, I'll mark it and take it with me."

"Thank you," Leon spoke, "You're a lifesaver."

The older woman nods and gets to marking, you can't take your eyes off Leon. He was probably the most interesting part of the day, next was the shirt. You gently wrap the measuring tape to get under the Adam's apple, distracted by the prettiness of his eyes.

"You usually get this nervous?"

You shake your head, "No."

"Seventeen, turn around - face front." You tell him, taking the tape off his neck, he turns and you measure his sleeve, "You could get a thirty four or thirty five."

He pulls shirt over his head, and you felt faint.

"Oh my god," was the first thing that rolled off your tongue once you got a glimpse at him.

Any sense of professionalism, down the drain. Replaced, the giggly crush slowly bubbling to the surface. You busy yourself finding a shirt for him, quickly unpinning it and throwing the pins every which way than the pincushion saved for the tailor.

You were a flustered mess, and it was like he enjoyed it.

You handed him the shirt, "Go to the dressing room, please."

He chuckles and walks off, you took a deep breath. You went to check on the tailor, maybe splash cold water on your face. The tailor looks up from Leon's coat once you enter the tailorshop, "How's it going?"

"It's going," You reply

She chuckles, "He's pretty, that one."

"He is," You agreed, "but he's in a bind, I appreciate you so much for this."

She smiles, "Of course, of course. Get his number, will you?"

You blushed and turned, leaving the tailorshop. Just in time to nearly trip into Leon, you look up - noticing how the shirt pulled across the chest.

"How's the shirt feel?"

"Good." He says, "little snug, but it doesn't matter to me."

You raise a brow, "Button the collar, if you plan on wearing a tie - you gotta breathe."

"Might need help with that."

You shake your head and reach up to button the collar of his shirt, to test, you put two fingers behind the collar - there was room all around.

"Congrats, you can breathe."

He chuckles, "So you didn't take my breath away, damn."

Once done, and all set to ring out. A grandpa comes in through the front, you welcome in just as you were ringing Leon out. He eyes you, "Could I get your number? I'd like to see you when I get back."

"Really?" You asked, almost in disbelief.

"Well, consider you my personal stylist." He says with a wink once the tailor came out with the suit, bagged and ready to travel, "We can talk more over dinner. See you next Friday at 6? You like steak? I know a great place."

A whirlwind of thoughts run through your mind as you scribble out your number on your business card, "S-Sure, I'm off at six."

"Good. See you when I get back." He says as he takes the card from you.

With that, he was gone and your head was in a swirl of feelings -

"You have a date!" Shouted the tailor, "Good! Stop being here so much!"

[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.

[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 to 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.”

[killerblueeyesxprettybluedude]

derek’s half-dead by the time mom’s satisfied with his responses. for this time, at least. somehow, every full moon is different. but he’s healing, that’s what’s important. that, and that it’ll be almost a month before he has another night like this. but that’s just part of being a born wolf, a hale descendant. you have to be strong, and ready.

mom doesn’t believe in doing anything halfway. 

the anger and adrenaline get derek as far as stiles’ house before exhaustion and pain take over. he manages a few dragging steps forward, only just grabbing the doorknob in time to keep himself from doubling over. 

but stiles already knows, somehow, even with human hearing. that, or derek’s attempt at a subtle escape was a lot louder than he realized. 

“derek? oh my god.” 

he’s stronger than a human should be, too, catching derek before he can fall through the suddenly opened door, even as he takes in what’s been happening like he’s documenting evidence in his mind, and then shakes his head, just draws him closer. 

"when are you gonna catch a break, huh?" he says, but it’s not really a question, and derek doesn’t have an answer for him. “most-bloodied werewolf award winner! three years running. and literally running! hey.”

the grin lights up his face, derek going warm before stiles’ eyes scan his wounds again, and his mouth goes tight and angry. 

maneuvering derek through the hall, up the stairs, his jaw only keeps tightening.

“don’t even try collapsing on my floor,” he says, when they finally make it to his bedroom. “i think my dad the sheriff might pick up on the recurring you-shaped silhouette in blood on the carpeting. bed it is, no arguing.”

derek doesn’t argue. the less he has to talk at all, the better. now that he’s here, and safe, and healing, there’s not a single part of what happened tonight that he wants to explain. 

but of course, stiles is already halfway there. 

“new big bad wolf in town?” he says. derek says nothing. “no, you’d already be warning me. did someone, like, lose control?” 

derek shuts his eyes. 

“and you would’ve told me if something’s after your family,” stiles says. “you wouldn’t even come here, you’d find deaton. or peter, or someone strong. is your mom out of town again?”

it’s always been easy to lie to stiles about that. derek nods. 

“what is that, like every third week now?” stiles says. “is there an every-full-moon werewolf convention? but like, only for adults.”  

derek shrugs. it’s a very bad idea right now. stiles’ eyes widen too quickly. 

“is your shoulder even attached to the rest of your body? whoa, definitely don’t shrug right now! oh my god.” 

it’s fine. it’s not… it’s healing. 

it helps the healing when it’s worse sometimes. 

“bed,” stiles says. “i need you to lie down, right now. and i’m putting a total moratorium on physical motioning.” 

that’s not gonna work. motioning is a big part of responding. it’s the verbal responses derek tries to avoid sometimes. 

you can’t really get in trouble for moving. 

“trouble, huh?” stiles says. “what’re you getting in trouble for?”

see, and this is why derek tries not to talk. 

“your mom is out of town, right?” stiles says, and derek focuses on trying not to shrug. “not… up to her old tricks, or anything.”

“her old tricks,” derek says, and stiles says, “laura’s told me some stuff.” 

laura. that’s not… no one needs to know about their family. and if mom finds out laura’s been complaining to a human about it? like she hasn’t explained it, how humans see training, and discipline, and exercises to strengthen your control, they don’t understand how bad it’s needed. or that werewolves can heal, anything, and that less damage is more dangerous sometimes. and obviously, if it was happening to stiles, that’d be… but that’s because he can’t heal like derek can. 

it’s just that humans would never see it that way. stiles wouldn’t, he’d be outraged. 

which is why derek has no intention of telling him.

he just needs… a break, that’s all. a safe place. and it’s still the full moon, isn’t it? so he’s still practicing his control. just… a little bit more comfortably, for a while. 

isn’t testing every possible situation supposed to be the point? well, this is another one. and honestly? a way more important one to focus on, in derek’s opinion. staying in control around stiles. in stiles’ bedroom. 

there are a lot of scenarios mom hasn’t even tried to prepare him for. being hunted, fine, that’s the main one, that’s important. except—would it really matter if he shifted, at that point? if he was chained up already. 

but she’s the alpha, so it doesn’t really matter what derek thinks. 

he kind of hides his face in stiles’ pillow for a while. 

“better?” stiles says, and then, “don’t nod. do i have to build you a full-body cast? werewolf-strength.” 

maybe. maybe that’d be better. 

and then… he’d be just as restrainable. without the practice at withstanding torture. not that that’s even been remotely helpful for the times somebody has been targeting him. 

it’s not like you can even really build up a pain tolerance. every time, it’s just as surprising. 

if anything, being constantly ready for it is its own problem. 

“follow-up question,” stiles says. “or no, maybe it’s more of a tangent. why don’t you heal the bags under your eyes? are you just never sleeping?” 

so maybe laura is right about some of it. maybe it doesn’t help, being constantly terrified. maybe that actually just makes you jumpy, and paranoid, and makes every threat and non-threat feel exactly the same, so you just dismiss every over-active warning instinct, and then of course you don’t see the obvious danger that stiles does. that scott can spot in a second, even though he’s spent the last three years of full moons hanging out with his friends, or his human mom, or alone playing video games and studying and having a normal life. 

imagine that! getting to be normal. 

but clearly, alphas just do things differently. 

derek settles in a little more, stiles hesitating at the edge of the bed a few times before turning away, heading back to the chair next to his computer. 

derek was wondering how that was gonna go. 

“you’re gonna sleep in a chair?” he says. “that can’t be healthy.” 

“it’s a twin bed, you know,” stiles says. “and i wouldn’t wanna, like, move weird in my sleep and break your bones as they’re re-healing.” 

“i’ll take the risk,” derek says, and stiles’ eyes go warm. 

“are you sure? it’s really not a sharing bed.” 

there is genuinely nothing derek’s ever cared about less in his life. “one way to find out, i guess.” 

“yeah,” stiles says. “scientific method. you can’t just blindly trust your assumptions, you gotta go in and test things.” 

sure. derek moves sideways a little bit. it only hurts a moderate amount. 

and it’s better, once stiles is close to him. stiles wrapping an arm around him, it’s a million times better. 

“why did we not try this a million years ago?” stiles says, and lays his hand on derek’s shoulder to still it before he shrugs. “this is unbelievably cozy. i regret literally every second of sleeping alone.” 

only stiles’ hand on his shoulder keeps derek from shrugging again. “so, yeah. put that in your calendar.” 

so he does know, maybe. all of it, without derek having to explain. no, it’s not… my mom’s great. i love my family. 

it’s just full moons. he can just not be there for full moons, he can be with stiles. 

it doesn’t have to mean he’s rejecting his pack, or his training. at the end of the day, if he can just prove that he has control… well, thanks for the lessons and everything, but i think i can take it from here, after all that. oh yeah, that was a huge help. definitely. 

i just, i think i’m ready to move on to real-life practice, from now on.   

he’ll figure it out. the right balance of normal teenage defiance and deference, the exact wording. 

and maybe stiles’ll help him with it. if he really does know as much about full moons in the hale household as derek is starting to think he does. 

“is laura okay?” stiles says. “does she have somewhere to go? if it gets this bad. can she even get out?” 

derek almost shrugs again. stiles scrubs at his shoulder, and derek’s eyes burn. 

laura’s usually a little bit better at helping with it. cooling things down, or taking a lot of the attention. 

but, she’s in college now. testing out her control in the real world. 

and derek could’ve come with her, if he wanted, but… that would’ve felt too much like running away. 

and besides, he has ties here. stiles, and scott, and isaac, and… stiles, especially. 

and anyway, he’s not like laura. he loves his mom. just because he doesn’t agree with every little thing she does doesn’t mean he wants to cut her out completely. 

even if, more and more, he’s starting to understand that decision.

somehow, he says some of that. and somehow, that’s enough to go back to not talking. to not having to, and to stiles dipping in closer against him, saying, “i think we should institute a curfew, from now on. at least before full moons. i’ll pick you up at like five? unless you have a game, or something.”

“i don’t understand why everyone in beacon hills is obsessed with lacrosse,” derek says, relieved to be on a safer topic. “can you even name a pro lacrosse athlete? seriously.”  

“you’re preaching to the choir,” stiles says, but even he’s obsessed with baseball. which makes more sense than lacrosse, sure, but it just makes him one more person derek can bore to tears by talking about the sport he actually plays. 

“you should come to a game,” derek says. “i’ll make it interesting.”

“ball in hoop, sounds fun,” stiles says, and derek rolls his eyes. 

“it’s a lot more than that.” 

“sure it is,” stiles says, and derek says, “come to a game. you’ll see.”

“only if i get to talk your ear off about baseball afterwards,” stiles says, and derek says, “you do that anyway.”

“even more, i mean.” 

“deal,” derek says, and stiles says, “i could tell my dad, you know. he’d move so fast… you shouldn’t have to sneak out to get away from it.”

but it’s not gonna be like that. not anymore. 

“with our curfew,” stiles says, and derek nods. “our sleep-overs.”

and once they graduate, derek will go wherever stiles goes. and it won’t mean anything about his mom, hiding from her, it’ll be about stiles. just like it always would’ve been, even if his home life was different. 

derek’s feeling a lot better. a lot better, suddenly. 

it’s barely about the healing.

[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.

[freakmcnastyy]

I've got my eye on you

Jeon Yeong-Bin x f!reader (fluff)

Summary: Yeong-bin starts catching feelings for the reader and with a little push from his friends, finally makes a move!

Note: Hey guysss! This is actually the first fic request I’ve ever gotten!! Thank you @deia4eva <3 Hope you like it 💙 Also! Just a lil’ change — instead of an all-boys school, let’s pretend the school is mixed.

inspired by the song "Say yes to heaven" (not sure)

⸻

You first heard his name when he got third place in the school’s math competition. To be honest, he didn’t look like the type who even knew where the math classroom was.

He looked like trouble.

Scratch that—he was.

A proper bully.

You saw him messing with this one quiet guy in class, Si-eun. Always picking on him for no reason, pretending it was an “accident.”

He always hung out with the same group of guys. Real loud types.

And yeah, they’d throw annoying comments around, pretending it was just “jokes.”

You didn’t like him at first. But also? You didn’t really care.

You hadn’t even talked to him once—why would he matter?

⸻

What you didn’t know though… was that Yeong-Bin had already noticed you.

Sure, you never talked to him, but he was into you—like, lowkey obsessed—just from watching you.

It wasn’t anything dramatic. He just… liked your vibe.

You know, some girls tried too hard to seem chill—especially the ones who hung out with the popular crowd. But you? You didn’t even try.

You were just genuinely unbothered. And somehow, that got under his skin.

He’d lay in bed at night replaying the way you laughed, the way you tossed your hair, your eyes…

They were the clearest moments of his day. Everything else? A blur.

Whenever he passed by your class, he’d slow down, eyes scanning the door in case you were inside.

Sometimes he’d make up excuses just to walk by. Or he’d say he was visiting a friend in your class when really, he just wanted to see you.

And yeah—you noticed.

No matter how cool he tried to act, he wasn’t exactly subtle.

You thought it’d pass.

That it was just one of those dumb high school crushes.

He thought so too.

But then… he caught himself talking about you.

To his friends. A lot.

They started pushing him. Hard.

Jung-Chan and Tae-Hoon especially.

“Dude, if you wait any longer, someone else is gonna scoop her up.”

“What if someone pulls a move before you?”

“Snap out of it, Yeong-Bin!”

⸻

That’s when the gifts started.

He watched you closely—what you bought at the cafeteria, what snacks you liked, what drinks you always picked.

He even asked around. Lowkey.

You were clueless—until one day, you came back to your desk and found a strawberry milk sitting there.

There was a sticky note on it: “Something sweet for your sweet mouth.”

The handwriting was bad. But he’d clearly tried.

You weren’t sure who sent it.

But it didn’t seem dangerous, so… yeah. You drank it.

You didn’t know that more was coming.

Snacks. Drinks. Notes telling you you looked pretty that day.

Whoever it was… was paying serious attention.

⸻

The boys kept bugging him to stop being anonymous.

Eventually, he cracked.

⸻

It was another boring-ass Wednesday.

You had PE last two periods—and the class was combined with Yeong-Bin’s.

You hated PE, so you’d usually get a pass and go read on the long stairs near the courtyard.

You brought your book. Sat down. Started reading. Peaceful.

Until—

Yeong-Bin.

He sat down next to you. No warning. No asking.

You didn’t say anything. Just kept reading.

“Kafka?” he asked. He saw you reading it before and had even looked him up just to have something to talk about.

“Mhm. Letters to Milena.” you replied, eyes still on the page.

“Oh. So you’re into romantic stuff?” he grinned. “I’ve heard of that one—”

“What do you want?” You cut him off, still not looking at him.

He hesitated. Looked over at his friends making wild gestures from a few steps away.

“You caught my eye,” he said. Classic line.

You sighed.

“Hey, look—if you want me to leave—”

“You sent those notes, didn’t you?” you interrupted.

You were risking your whole vibe here. If it wasn’t him? Awkward.

He nodded. “You weren’t creeped out, were you?”

“No… weirdly, you always got my favorite stuff right.”

You smirked.

He grinned back. He didn’t say he’d been stalking you a little, but you kinda figured it out anyway.

⸻

Things got… complicated after that.

You found yourself texting him at night, drinking the coffee he left on your desk even though you told him not to, catching his eyes in class, sometimes walking home together.

It wasn’t official or anything.

You were just “friends.”

At least, that’s what you thought.

You liked to play it cool. And that was part of your charm.

You assumed it’d fade. That he’d get bored.

But he didn’t. He tried harder.

Asked you to hang out. To eat together. To study. Or even just… sit in silence.

And just like that, weeks went by.

⸻

One time, you were alone in the classroom.

You stood by the window, sun in your eyes, fingers trailing the glass.

He walked in. Didn’t say anything. Just stood near you.

You turned. “Aren’t you bored of me yet?” you asked.

He looked confused.

“Why would I be? You’re fun.”

“Really? All I do is sit in silence.”

He shrugged. “I like you even when you’re quiet.”

“Why?”

“Have you ever been in love?” he asked, eyes dropping from yours.

You didn’t answer. You just looked away.

He smiled. “You’ll know when it hits.”

And just like that, he left.

His friends were waiting outside.

“THAT’S IT!” Jung-Chan yelled, smacking his shoulder.

Tae-Hoon joined in: “Even a brick would realize that was a love confession, bro.”

Yeong-Bin said nothing.

Something still felt… off.

⸻

A few days later

You ran.

Ran like your life depended on it.

You’d overheard someone mention something like “Yeong… bin… hospital…” and the world stopped.

Your body went numb. Your heart stuttered.

Couldn’t even grab your phone.

Your legs moved before your brain did.

You took the stairs two at a time. Yelled at the taxi driver to “just f*cking go, man!”

Your thoughts were a mess: Was he okay? Was there blood? Was he breathing?

Apparently, Si-eun had finally snapped.

Beat him with a book and a curtain rod.

You arrived at the hospital out of breath, barely speaking. Asked the nurse—barely—where his room was.

Then you ran.

No thinking. No logic. Just gut instinct.

You opened the door.

There he was.

Quiet.

Bandaged.

Left eye bruised. Lip split. Nose taped. Arm hooked to an IV.

And just like that—

You broke.

“Yeong-Bin…” you whispered.

He hadn’t seen you yet.

But you walked in.

Didn’t even shut the door.

You marched straight over—

And hugged him.

Hard.

No words. No asking. Just held on.

He flinched a little. Eyes blinking open.

His arms lifted—then wrapped around you.

“Y/N… how did you-?”

His voice was weak. He breathed you in.

You pulled back just enough to see his face.

Eyes red. Not crying—but close.

You looked at his lips, his forehead, his bandages.

Then you spoke.

“Some kids were talking… I thought—I thought something really bad happened.”

His eyes softened.

“I’m fine,” he said. Voice shaky. He was crying to his mom earlier, but now he had to play the tough guy.

Just then, the door opened.

A woman walked in. Sharp. Stylish. Rich-vibe.

The “I’ll pay you to stay away from my son” type.

You stood and bowed a little.

She didn’t seem surprised. Like she’d expected you.

“You’re Y/N?” she asked, completely expressionless.

“Yes, ma’am. You must be his mom?”

She nodded. “He talks about you a lot.”

Wait—what?

He… told his mom about you?

Yeong-Bin made weird faces at her. Clearly embarrassed.

She ignored it.

“I’ll give you two some time,” she said, and turned to her son.

“As for that Si-eun boy—I’m getting him sent to juvie. Count on it.”

Then she left.

You turned back to Yeong-Bin.

“What happened?”

No one just randomly beats someone up.

“I told that Beom-sok guy to stick a fentanyl patch on his neck,” he said flatly.

You froze.

“ARE YOU STUPID?! You could get expelled!”

He shrugged. “Whatever. The only thing that’d suck about transferring is… being away from you.”

Even now.

Battered. Bruised.

He was thinking about you.

You reached out, touched his cheek.

Your thumb brushed his skin.

“You’re insane.”

“For you.”

You both laughed. It was weird. But comforting.

Then, without thinking, you leaned in and kissed his cheek.

His eyes widened.

“Don’t look at me like a deer in headlights,” you teased. “You earned that.”

As you pulled back, his hands grabbed your face, gently—

And he kissed you.

On the lips.

Then pulled away.

“This is, like… a terrible place for a first kiss. Sorry.”

You didn’t answer.

Your face was bright red.

This time… you were the deer.

[thehatboxwitch]

soshiro hoshina yandere profile. gender neutral, TW // nsfw mentions, yandere. credits once again to cinnamonest. :)

What is he generally like? Is he self-aware, lucid, or obsessive? How does he behave?

Soshiro is self-aware to a point. He knows that his jealousy is not normal, that his entire career could be at stake if anyone found out about the secret cameras in your hallway, that there are lines drawn and that no one can know how badly he wants to cross them. Still, the heart wants what the heart wants. Is it so bad for a man to want to court his love? Even if the courting is a little... unorthodox. Intense.

How do you meet him?

As busy as he is, Soshiro doesn't have much space or time to meet new people. Maybe you see him every day at a cafe he frequents, or, my personal favourite, you're a childhood friend that'd been with him ever since he'd been struggling to carve out his own space in the Force. I don’t see him being easily able to fall for someone he works with. He seems to keep work and personal stuff very separate.

How likely will he kidnap his darling?

Perhaps a 4-5/10. It’s not very likely, seeing as he’s not at home that often and really would defeat the purpose. He’d prefer it if you had the freedom to escape in case of a kaiju attack, and anyway it’s not like there’s anywhere in Japan you can escape to out of his reach. Don’t underestimate the power of a vice-captain. :)

How difficult is it to escape from him? How does he restrain his darling? How does he deal with attempted escape?

Once again, I don’t really see kidnapping in his books, but I do feel like Soshiro would have some moments where he wants you by his side. When you’re relaxing together, he won’t like it even if you get up to use the bathroom for a moment. He’ll follow you from room to room if he has to, so don’t expect to get rid of him that easily.

If you’re trying to escape Tokyo, he’ll find some way or another to be in your area for work. It’s always best to yield to him and not make a fuss, if you don’t want anything to happen to your reputation or job.

How easy is it to trick, deceive, or manipulate him?

Not very easy. Soshiro is a very perceptive person, so even at the slightest inkling that you’re about to bolt, he’s already wound himself around you and put himself between the door and you. He lets all your gaslighting and false fawning fly over his head, but really he’d be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy it. You’re trying so hard and giving him so much attention, it’s endearing.

What kind of punishments would he use?

Not quite a punishment, but he’d definitely use sex to remind you who really has the power here. He doesn’t really see the value in punishing or harming you, especially since his presence alone is usually enough to intimidate you into behaving. Soshiro isn’t nearly that cruel.

How does he deal with rivals, or perceived rivals?

Who in their right mind would want to cross paths with a vice-captain? If they’re crazy enough, usually seeing Soshiro himself is enough to scare them off. He ups his frequency of patrols in that area, making sure they see him over and over again until they get the message. Or some firm handshakes and well-placed words work too. Again, who wants to cross a vice-captain when he always has those katanas on his belt?

How easy is it to make him mad? What does his anger look like?

Soshiro gets fired up, but not really mad. Huffy, maybe. But anger isn’t common. He’s still a mature individual, at the end of the day… mostly.

Does he see you as above, beneath, or equal to him?

Equal to him, for the most part. He does sometimes think that you have trouble looking after yourself and wants to give you a hand, but that doesn't necessarily mean that he's looking down on you. In fact quite the opposite - Soshiro wants your life to be as easy as you'll let him make it.

How determined is he for you to love him, or is he content just having you?

It comes and goes, I imagine. Logically (if anything about his obsession can be called logical) he knows he should be content with just having you around him and keeping you safe, but subconsciously, Soshiro thinks you should love him back, at least eventually. You can tide him over with just paying him attention, however, like playing with his hair or giving him kisses on the cheek. Small prices to pay compared to a Soshiro at the end of his rope.

General perverseness: How sexual is he? What's his drive like? Touchy?

They say that sporty women have more stamina (or are more sexual, I don't quite remember), and maybe the same applies to Soshiro Hoshina. He loves the sex - it blows off steam for him, and it's much more fun than taking it out on a punching bag or a kaiju or whatnot. He can go for as long as you want, and even further, until you're boneless and can barely remember your own name. Meanwhile he's just wiping perspiration from his forehead and snuggling up to you like nothing just happened.

Soshiro tends to be a bit touchy even outside of sex. Touching the inside of your wrist to keep you close, or physically turning you around instead of telling you to, or tapping you on the shoulder to get your attention. All the hallmarks of someone who has physical touch as their love language.

What body parts of his darling does he like the most?

Legs, specifically your calves down to your ankles. No matter what size you are, he likes fitting your flesh into his hands, locking you to him by your ankles, slinging your legs over his shoulders for better access. :)

a hatbox summer event | discord server if you enjoy my work, reblogs help the most! ⭐️

[arschbiene]

I have this old headcanon that Gilbert smells like bread and that's why birds are attracted to him. This gives G.ermania incentive to keep him around because you plop him down and a few minutes later, you got meat....if he cooperates. Sometimes he does. Sometimes he doesn't.

Anyway I want to quickly rattle off some thoughts I have about these two because it's copium for me:

While I draw G.ermania with Gilbert a lot bc of blatant favoritism, I do not think he really lugs him around all the time. I hc that End-Game G.ermania functions as a traveling diplomat visiting his remaining brother/sisters and their replacements (the children) trying to lay the foundation of peace after he has experienced the damage war has wrought, he just wants better for his kids. so he's constantly traveling about trying to ensure he is leaving them behind in a more peaceful/stable time (he is not and dies saddened by it)

He also travels about when he hears his brother/sisters have died in search of children, he digs them up from the ground at the base of ancient trees as he feels them cry out to him (by strong sensory information) and delivers them to their human and ensures none of them are harmed by them. (I think it's a common human thing to be fearful of change and try to snuff out new little nations before they grow strong)

For Gilbert, he was plagued by a terrible tooth ache and dug him out even though he had reservations because he was born early/premature/a weak literal baby.

He tends to keep Gilbert with him a bit more often than he would the other children if only because he finds him charming/cute. But it's a bit of a selfish game of playing house, he uses Gilbert to play at being human/living a normal life but discards him when troubles arise.

I do not think G.ermania is a good father lol He's decent, but he can be really heavy handed and sharp with his children. He is very loving and does what he can but he is also very sick and old and tired when they come around and he is easily overwhelmed. He is very sorry though. He is always sorry.

He also realizes that Gilbert does better health wise when in the company of other children but they don't think much of him, little nations come and go. None of them will take him in under their wing, leaving him at a loss of what to do with him. He senses that the child has a connection to the land but soon realizes that it doesn't exist yet.

I'm iffy on the baltic pr.ussia stuff and kinda think he had a representative that he replaced but we're putting a pin on it for when i have time to decide what I'd like to do, it's kinda a yes and no for me.

He leaves Gilbert in villages that he feels the boy has strong affinity to the people there. Despite his efforts, Gilbert is faced with a lot of hostility/violence and being left behind is extremely distressing/traumatic to him.

At the time of his birth, everyone pretty much knows a new representative child is a bad omen. He seeks solace/safety in early Chr.istian communities that welcome him. He never gets to say goodbye to G.ermania, he knows he's sick and Chr.istianity is destroying him but he's an unreliable often chaotic parent and he's angry at him for always being so quick to leave and slow to return, so he clings to the first people who come to him with promises of strength, glory and nationhood and leaves with them.

[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.”