#the microwave is spinning so quickly

[arlathen]

i haven't had time to write lately but i have been aggressively thinking about ariel/ashur.

[bywons]

I WANNA SHOW YOU OFF 𖥔 LIPSTICK STAINS ON ENHYPEN

𝗔𝗟𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗡𝗔𝗧𝗜𝗩𝗘𝗟𝗬──── 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗄 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆 𝖺𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋𝗌

❪ 𝖠𝖬𝖮𝖱𝖤 𝖬𝒾𝖮 ❫ ｡ 𝖾𝗇𝗁𝗒𝗉𝖾𝗇 𝗑 𝖿!𝗋 1299wc 𖥔 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿 ── 𝗰𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀 𝗄𝗂𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗌𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗉 愛 ／ 𝑐𝑎𝑡𝑎𝑙𝑜𝑔𝑢𝑒

す��� ܃ happy new year, loves ! ( although this fic is not new years related :p )

reb𝑙ogs& ˊᗜˋ 𝑓eedbacks

LEE HEESEUNG

you watch as heeseung stands in front of the mirror, adjusting his jacket, his back turned to you. a playful thought crosses your mind as you walk up behind him and press a gentle kiss to his cheek, leaving a delicate red lipstick mark.

he freezes, staring back at the lipstick stain sitting ever so prominent on his cheeks, as the corners of his lips start to twitch to a lovesick smile.

“uhm— sorry ’seung, didn’t mean to!” you shoot your hands upwards to wipe the lipstick off of his cheeks. of course, what were you thinking, your boyfriend of ten months obviously wouldn’t give in to the idea of wearing your lipstick stain around. there was still some distance between the two hearts.

“and if i say i love it?” heeseung whispers, closing the distance between the two of you as he catches your wrist, pressing a chaste kiss inside of it, all the while holding eye contact with you, “it’s proof that I'm yours, and i will wear it proudly.”

PARK JONGSEONG

“ready for the evening?” jay offers you a warm smile as you both reach the destination— a thanksgiving party organized by his family.

you shake your head, although uncomfortable as you shift closer to your boyfriend, “i don't know, you think they will like me—?”

jay cuts you off, squeezing your hand in reassurance, “of course they will, you're l just the perfect girl for me,” he chuckles, winking at you.

sighing softly, both of you get out of the car, finally ready to attend the much awaited event. you feel like you could thank your boyfriend for reassuring you in a sweeter way. so you pull him closer, kissing him right on the corner of his lips.

“ah!” you exclaim as your realise it left a lipstick stain on the spot, “sorry, i'll just wipe it—”

“no,” jay whispers, leaning down just enough so that his lips touch your earlobes, “it’s my badge of honour.”

SIM JAEYUN

jake leans against the counter, sipping his coffee, while you sit on the kitchen stool watching him. the early morning light streams through the window, highlighting his messy bedhead and sleepy eyes. you can’t resist. sliding off the stool, you walk over and press a soft kiss to his jawline, leaving a vivid red lipstick mark.

“did you just…?” he starts, turning toward you with an amused grin, setting his mug down.

“sorry!” you say quickly, reaching for a napkin. “i’ll clean it—”

“don’t you dare,” he interrupts, catching your hand midair. His grin grows wider as he looks at the mark in the reflection of the microwave door. “this is art. you think i’m getting rid of it?”

“jake,” you groan, blushing.

instead of replying, he leans down and cups your face gently, pressing a kiss to your lips. his warmth and the lingering taste of coffee makes your head spin, “now we’re even.”

PARK SUNGHOON

sunghoon adjusts the collar of his shirt, sighing softly as he opens his laptop to attend his business meeting for the week. he looks so focused, his sharp jawline and furrowed brows making him seem almost untouchable. But to you, he’s your sunghoon.

before he can click into the video call, you lean down and press a kiss to his cheek, leaving a soft lipstick stain behind.

he freezes, turning his head toward you with wide eyes, “did you just sabotage my meeting?” he teases with a smirk.

you laugh nervously. “let me clean it before—”

he stops you, catching your wrist. “no need,” he says, glancing at his reflection in the laptop screen. “actually, i think it’s perfect.”

“perfect? sunghoon, you’re about to go live with your team!”

“exactly,” he says with a smirk, tilting his head toward you, pressing kiss on your hand. “let them see how loved i am.”

during the meeting, one of his colleagues finally asks, “uh, sunghoon, what’s on your cheek?” he chuckles softly, glancing at you out of frame. “oh, just a reminder from someone most special,” he says, his voice full of pride.

KIM SUNOO

sunoo sits at his desk, adjusting his hair in the tiny mirror he keeps nearby. “do i look good enough for the pictures today?” he asks, flashing you a playful grin.

“you always do,” you reply, leaning over to give him a quick kiss on the cheek.

when you pull back, you notice the bright pink lipstick stain left behind. “i didn’t mean to—let me clean it!" you say, reaching for a tissue.

but sunoo grabs your wrist, his eyes sparkling. “why would you erase this masterpiece?” he teases, tilting his head to admire the mark in the mirror.

“because you’re taking pictures today! you can’t—”

“i can and i will,” he interrupts, grinning as he picks up his phone. he snaps a selfie, the lipstick mark proudly on display. caption: loved and it shows

“sunoo!” you exclaim, laughing as he spins his chair toward you.

he stands up, wrapping his arms around your waist. “you know,” he says softly, leaning closer, “if anyone asks about it, i’ll just tell them i’m taken by the most amazing girl in the world.”

your cheeks flush as he kisses your forehead. “now,” he says with a wink, “time to go make everyone jealous.”

YANG JUNGWON

jungwon sits cross-legged on the floor, carefully highlighting sections in his textbook, completely lost in concentration. you can’t resist the moment and lean down, pressing a kiss to his temple.

when you pull back, the faint pink lipstick stain is visible against his skin. jungwon freezes, his highlighter hovering mid-air, before looking up at you with a soft laugh.

“did you just mark me?” he teases, cheeks flushed as he touches his cheeks.

you wince. “well, do you want me to wipe it off?”

before you can grab a tissue, he catches your hand and tilts his head. “leave it,” he says, his voice calm but teasing. “it’s kind of… sweet.”

you blink, surprised. “sweet?”

he shrugs, leaning back on his palms, a small smile tugging at his lips. “yeah. it’s like a good luck charm or something. maybe now i’ll finally ace this chapter.”

“jungwon, that’s not how studying works,” you laugh, feeling the warmth of his breathe creeping up your neck as he pulls you close.

he hums, turning back to his notes as if nothing happened, but the faint pink mark stays right where it is. the quiet confidence in his expression says he’s in no hurry to hide it.

NISHIMURA RIKI

riki bounces a basketball lazily in the driveway, his hoodie slightly askew, and his hair messy from the evening breeze. you watch from the side, unable to resist the way his focus shifts from playful to determined every time he lines up a shot.

“hey,” you call out, stepping closer. he turns, flashing you a boyish grin.

“come to challenge me?” he teases, spinning the ball on his finger.

“not quite,” you say, stepping up to him. before he can react, you grab his hoodie strings, tug him down slightly, and press a quick kiss to his cheek.

riki stumbles back, blinking in surprise. “wait, uhm,” he gulps, grabbing your shoulders as his face fumes up, “is there a mark on my cheek?”

you giggle. “dont like it?”

“no way!” he says, holding up a hand to stop you. his eyes gleam with mischief as he pulls out his phone. “this is the perfect victory look.”

“you’re not even playing!” you protest, laughing.

he smirks, snapping a selfie with the lipstick mark proudly on display. “doesn’t matter. with this, i’ve already won.”

shaking your head, you can’t help but smile as he picks up the basketball again, still wearing your kiss like a badge of honor.

© BYWONS, 2025 / do not copy or repost without permission . div ctto

taglist────open tags in the reblogs ! network tag. @/k-labels @k-films @k-nets CLICK ME

[21280]

warnings for nsfw! mdni. afab reader, bathroom sex, mirror sex, loser paranoid tenya, unprotected piv (wrap before u tap), dom reader (?), they fuck in iida's office bathroom, misuse of tie. not proofread.

office visits aren't uncommon. around 2 to 3 days a week, you'd stop by the agency to pay your husband a visit. white walls and black curtains suddenly stop feeling so monotonous when you walk in with a bento box, the most delicious lunch inside that was to bring color to tenya iida's day.

so it's no surprise when tenya's landline starts to ring at 2:30pm, his assistant's voice is heard as he presses the speakerphone button. "mr. ingenium? your wife's on her way to your office."

tenya iida likes monotony. he likes to be prepared for anything. so, he gets noticed when a person's on their way. especially if it's you. tenya loves that you come by at the same days, at the same times. it's the beginning of the week, so he knows to expect a nice, hot beef stew from the menu you discussed with him last week.

even when it's on off days that he's forced to put his hero suit away for meetings and is stuck with an ironed shirt and a tie, your presence is more than enough to bring him a sense of peace.

three knocks on the door break him out of his trance, and as he opens the door, he's left puzzled.

you never wear a trench coat.

it couldn't be the weather, he thinks. it's too hot outside, and it's not foreseen to rain today. there's no umbrella in your hand, either. "sweetheart, what's up with the coat?" he asks, feeling your hand get ahold of his and driving it towards your waist. "nothing" you reply, dragging him along as you set your purse and the bento box on his desk. "just feeling adventurous with fashion today! i got your beef stew, you got a microwave?"

"yes—did the stew get cold?"

"not really, but it's about to."

your fingers grab his tie, pulling him down as your lips capture his in a sweet kiss. he's quick to pull away, face red from pure embarrassment. "y/n! i'm at work, and the curtains are open" he exclaims, and to his surprise, you spin on your heel and head to his window. turning your head towards him, you draw the curtains.

"tenya, did you ever stop to think as to why i chose black curtains?"

"to prevent any burglars from seeing any valuable items?" he asks, stepping closer, "though, i doubt anyone would rob the place. it is my agency after all."

"it's because..." you whisper, closing the distance between you and him. one hand is on his chest, and the other softly cradles his jaw. "...i don't want anyone to see you like this. please, tenya. just one kiss."

his face is riddled with uncertainty. carefully, he leans down and pecks your lips. he’s about to pull back when he hears a needy whine, which has him kissing your lips again. it’s hard for him to be so affectionate in this professional setting, but he bears through it for you. lips reunite yet again, and your tongue easily slips inside his mouth, daring to explore every inch of him.

you feel his breath hitch as his hands move to hold your hips. it’s an act of desperation, as tenya unconsciously pulls you closer. his grip on you is strong, your hands traveling to the back of his neck to deepen the kiss. tenya frowns as he realizes your hips are way too smooth—and he knows your closet too well to know there's no garment that he couldn't have felt through the coat.

tenya breaks the kiss as his hands begin to untie the wool belt, then unbuttoning to reveal what he feared most. the sexiest, most revealing navy blue lingerie he had seen. as he fully took in the sight in front of him, his eyes zeroed in on the little figurine on the crotch of your panty.

it was his face.

"y/n do you know what you're doing—are you insane?" tenya whisper-yells, quickly wrapping the coat over you. "i'm working! plus—where did you even get that?! did you come here like that? what if someone saw you and—"

"—nobody saw me, tenya" you cut him short, to which he sighed from relief. you smile as your fingers intertwine themselves with his. "i came with a t-shirt dress and changed in the bathroom here, i know you'd go crazy if i didn't."

tenya feels a weight suddenly being lifted off him. "my love" he pauses, gesturing to the image of himself staring back at him, "where did you get that? a-are other people buying that too? because that would be creepy."

you laugh, "i got it customized, tenten. don't you worry. i'd sue if i ever saw your pretty face on another girl's panty, y'know."

his face grows red as he averts your gaze. "you should put the coat back on, y/n. it's not that i don't want to, but whatever it is you want, i'm sure it can wait until i'm home."

"can it? 'cause i've been dreaming about it all year."

"the year just started, my love" tenya sighs, raising your hand as he plants a kiss on your knuckles. "you really can't wait?"

you press your chest against his as your hand is on the back of his neck. pulling him closer, you whisper to his ear. "tenya iida. i designed this office for a reason. now, i'm gonna go inside your bathroom and take off this coat, and i'm going to count to five. if you step inside, we're fucking, and if you don't, i'll put on my coat and leave."

carefully, you push past him and open the bathroom door, swiftly shutting it behind you. you let the coat drop to the floor as you look at yourself in the mirror. starting to count out loud, you feel your stomach churn.

1.

2.

3.

4.

the door opens and tenya quickly steps inside. locking the door, he stops to stare. his eyes lower towards the silver chains that made up your thong, when he notices the small, shining letters.

"like it?" you ask, "i told you it's customized. got your name on it and everything."

tenya presses his body against your back, and the way his bulge aligns with your ass has you rolling back your eyes from desperation. his fingers ghost over your skin, going from your waist to the hem of your panties. his fingers slip in, slowly tracing a few circles over your clit.

he shudders, "god, you're this wet already?"

you bite your lip, letting out a hiss. with just one look at you through the mirror, tenya knows you've never been like this before. "might've touched myself before coming, so be a good boy and just fuck me, tenya."

he rapidly unzips his pants, pulling down his stained boxes. his fingers slide the navy blue fabric to the side as he aligns his leaking cock with your entrance. as he sinks in, you gasp. tenya takes the opportunity to take off his tie, bundling it up with one hand. his eyes gaze into yours through the mirror as he asks, "if you want to scream, you can do it here. i can put it in your mouth so no one hears, is that okay with you?"

you nod, "hit me, baby."

as you part open your lips, you feel tenya's coarse fingers insert his tie. the weird taste of fabric hits your tongue as your husband's cock is fully in, with you nodding as a sign.

and pain soon turns into bliss. it's otherworldly, the way his tip kisses your cervix with every thrust. the feeling of your velvety walls drives him insane, and tenya feels like he's a virgin all over again, not knowing where to look or where to touch—it all feels brand new. he looks at the mirror and sees you, one hand gripping the sink while the other keeps the tie in place, eyes watery and shut as you whimper into his tie. he looks down at your ass, enamored with the way it jiggles with every thrust, watching the silver letters jump as he sees his cock pump in and out of you.

"d'you—aah—want me to go fast?" he groans, and you desperately nod. he wastes no time pulling out as he turns you around, his strong arms lifting you and setting you down in the sink as he thrusts his cock inside you again, making you moan in return. your legs wrap around his, and you feel your core start to tighten. "'m cumming" is what you manage to say as tenya removes the tie from your mouth, his lips meeting yours in a hungry kiss.

you feel his cock twitching as tenya slows down, the feeling of his warm, sticky seed filling you up making you mewl. tenya comes to a halt and rests his head on your shoulder, and you smile as you help him pull out. "you really outdid yourself, y'know? never thought you'd actually go through with it" you laugh. he furrows his eyebrows, "are you okay? was i okay? let me help you, sweetheart. i think i have 10 minutes of lunch left."

there's the tenya you know and love. the one who puts others before himself always, and the one who is always on schedule.

[impish-baby]

Yandere caregiver dragon hybrid is just spinning around in my head for days

I too have yandere caregivers spin around my head for days (._.) It's like a microwave

Caregiver dragon hybrid headcanons - 🪙🦎

🪙 - the most possessive, they might not be a full dragon but they still feel the desire to hoarde things, including you! You'll be lucky if you can even get a foot out of the cave. If you get the opportunity you're quickly growled at and brought back inside, forbidden from leaving their arms for the rest of the night for your little stunt

🦎 - they do such a good job taking care of you, right? They're the best? Prideful.. constantly seeking your approval and praise to the point it can be obnoxious. They act like a puppy sometimes more than a towering half dragon. You could try using it to manipulate them but you're just opening a can of worms, they'll look at you expecting praise for every tiny task

🪙 - you're dressed in the finest silks, adorned with so much jewelry it weighs you down sometimes. Doesn't matter if you can't move around much, you're meant to stay put anyway! They have no trouble carrying you around so stop fussing

🦎 - they do actually treat you very well, you're still a person even if their actions make you feel more like property at times. Expertly roasts meat or finds the highest quality vegetables for you, and will make sure you have the comfiest blankets and pillows for your part of the nest

🪙 - do not try to bite them because they will think you're trying to playfight and give you a chomp in return! It's hard to remember how... feeble you are. They do try their best to be gentle, but accidents still happen. (They'll feel awful, promising to get you sweets from the village or whatever you want really)

[sugawhaaa]

☆------------Scandalous

P1harmony reaction:: wearing something revealing around them

Warnings//genre:: suggestive, fluff, comfort, possessive ass keeho and Theo, kind of some perverted content 🤭

Pairing:: ot6!p1h x fem!bodied!reader

A/N:: WOOWEE I had this in my drafts since...God damn April but ✨️here we are gang ✨️ also I'm actually tweaking over how cute this is agahenwnwiwo I need Theo and the maknaes rn. Give me ur love

Keeho ⭐️

Keeho was working in his room on his computer before leaning back, sighing before massaging his brows. He then heard the door creak open and he turns to you with a smile. "Hey, baby- oh wow," he chuckles before looking down at the floor, before quickly stealing another glance at you. "What's with the get-up?" He smirks and leans back in his chair, his index finger lingering around his lips.

"I just thought it'd be a fun outfit to wear on some nights out and I wanted to show you," you turn slightly, looking at yourself in the tight latex body suit. "I could pair it with a lot of different outfits and it'd do good for a lot of Halloween costumes," you give him a thumbs up but he's a little distracted, looking at how the latex hugs your ass and thighs and outlines your breasts nicely. The zipper is undone a little too to expose your cleavage.

"A night out hm?" He tilts his head up.

"Yeah why?" You look a little disappointed and keeho smiles.

"Oh baby, I just don't want other guys staring at you. You know I can't help but get jealous," he shrugs, shaking his head and you put a hand to your hip.

"And if I bring you with me on these nights out?"

"Perfect, so I can jump any guy looking at you the wrong way," he smiles before inviting you to sit on his lap.

Theo ⭐️

Theo was just setting up to watch a movie with you in his room. He had everything prepared except for popcorn. He stood by the microwave watching the timer go until you walked up to him, wearing a lingerie-looking dress. His cheeks turned pink but he instantly played it off. He takes you to his room and as soon as you step in the doorway he sets the popcorn down and pins you to the bed.

"Babe what are you-" you chuckled, surprised by how much he reacted. "T-Theo what are you doing?" you tried asking for the second time but you were interrupted by his teeth nibbling at your neck. You moaned softly before covering your lips quickly. You felt your body getting weak and you fell beneath him. "I thought we were watching a movie tonight?"

"I'd rather watch you bounce on my cock," he smirks softly against your skin before licking up the mark he left.

"B-Babe," his words caught you off guard and made your heart flutter. You put a hand on the back of his head, feeling his soft and light hair.

"Wouldn't you rather that too?" He looks up at you, hinting at asking for consent.

Jiung ⭐️

The two of you were getting ready for date night and you decided to be a little bold and wear something more revealing than usual. You had a nice dress that had a slit down the side, exposing your leg, and it was strapless. It also came with a pair of gloves that matched the vibe well. You throw on some heels and some nice accessories before dolling up your hair and makeup.

Jiung turns around to look at you for the big reveal and his jaw literally drops. He soaks up every inch of your body, his mouth watering. "Oh my god babe," he laughs in disbelief. "Wow, I'm way underdressed now," he blushes before stepping a bit closer. "Do a spin," he twirls his finger and you giggle softly.

You do a little twirl around in your fit, your dress spinning with you. You stumble on your heels and tumble forward a little. Jiung catches you by your arms and smiles. "I feel like I'm in a K-drama. Saving my beautiful damsel in distress," Jiung laughs and you straighten yourself up.

"It kinda does feel like that," you chuckle before looking up at him confidently. "Cmon, we're gonna be late," you kiss him softly, your cherry lipgloss rubbing off on his lips, filling his senses with your scent that makes his heart race.

Intak⭐️

You and your boyfriend were getting ready for bed like usual and he was already tucked in, ready for the night. You came back from the bathroom wearing a new pajama set, hello kitty themed, with fuzzy pants that were low waisted and a cropped and breathable top. The shirt was a little see through and he could see...

He found his face warming up and he quickly rolled over. "Huh, something wrong taki?" You chuckle before taking a sip of water and turning off the night light. He rolls back over to face you, stealing another glance at your tits.

"Nope, all good," he nods and you stretch your arms up, yawning, and your shirt lifts up just enough for him to catch a glimpse of your underboob and your gut tucked in, flexing your ribcage. His face flushes a deeper shade of red as he watches. "You doing that on purpose?" He asks genuinely and you tilt your head.

"Doing what?" You chuckle and he rolls over.

"Nevermind, just...expect me to have wet dreams," he mumbles but you can still hear him.

"Say what?!"

Soul⭐️

Soul much preferred spending nights inside together rather than out partying or drinking but tonight he branched off just a little. He was taking you out to an arcade, truly a cute date idea, so you decided to get a bit more dolled up for this special night. You wore an adorable pink and white dress but there was a slight problem, it hardly covered your ass...

You stepped out of your room to show Soul your outfit and smile nervously before doing a little spin. "I really like this dress but...if I bend over can you see anything," you bend over a little and Shota blushes, your panties in full view.

"U-Uh yeah...but I'll cover you if needed!" He smiles determinedly. "It's such a cute dress, I wanna see you wear it. I promise I'll make sure to cover you, like a personal guard," he puts a hand to his head and you chuckle softly.

"Thank you shota," you smile and he nods with a gummy smile.

"I'll use my bag or just my body," he shows you his tote bag, covered in anime and Pokémon pins, with a thumbs up and a wink.

Jongseob⭐️

Making Jongseob flustered is literally your favorite thing. He always becomes a big dummy who doesn't know how to act or keep his mind off of the dirty facts. So tonight you decided to wear something that hugged your tits nicely while also showing your cleavage a lot. The outfit wasn't too eccentric, just a tight cropped top and a skirt with some leg warmers and a little hand bag but it had Seobie fumbling.

As you went to put your shoes on you continued to hold your bag and Jongseob rushed over to you. "I can take your shoes, I mean your bag," he shakes his head, blushing as he watches you lean down to put on your shoes, your chest nearly spilling out from your shirt. He blushes and you hand him your bag with a smile.

"Thanks seob," you bend over to slip your shoes on and Jongseob takes a step back, stealing a little glance at your ass as you bend over. Oh god, he's such a bad person but he can't help it. When you stand up and turn to him, taking your bag back, his eyes are deliberately staring at your cleavage. "Eyes are up here," you smile and he becomes as red as a tomato.

"S-Sorry...you know how I get..."

[sheerfreesia007]

Love Creases

Pairing: Lee Felix x Reader

Word count: 2,118

Content warnings: Fluff

Summary: You find a way to show Felix that you love him through your origami hobby and he’s absolutely giddy with love over it. What happens when he decides to show his love through origami as well?

Felix walks into his apartment after a long day in the studio with Chan and Changbin, he tiredly trudges through the door and Seungmin who’s in the kitchen heating up some food looks over to him with a soft smile. Walking further into the apartment Felix drops his bag by the door before toeing off his shoes and making his way into the kitchen.

”Your lady came by earlier and dropped off some food for us.” Seungmin told him fondly as he watched his food spin in the microwave. Felix grinned widely at the mention of you before he opened the fridge and saw the containers you had packed away for them so that they didn’t have to cook. After he had told you that he and Seungmin would be living together, you had made it your mission to always provide them with home cooked meals. After that one time they tried cooking together and nearly burnt the house down. You didn’t trust either one of them in the kitchen and Felix figured it was a win-win situation for everyone, they didn’t have to cook and possibly burn their apartment down and you knew that they would have food to eat and wouldn’t starve.

”She’s too good to us.” Felix says amused as he looks over at Seungmin who nods his head knowingly before eagerly opening the microwave once it beeps that his food is done.

”Oh, she also went into your bedroom before she left. But she wasn't in there for a long time.” Seungmin said softly before he took his container of food into the living room and plopped down on the couch to begin eating while watching his television show. Felix nodded his head at his friend before shutting the fridge and beginning to head to his bedroom curious to see what you had left for him. 

When he entered his bedroom he easily spotted the sunflower tote that turned into an almost care package between the two of you. It had started as a way for you to keep all the little things that reminded you of him whenever you had to spend time away from him. But it had quickly turned into a care tote that the two of you swapped between each other normally filled with things that you loved and things that symbolized you in the other’s eyes. Walking quickly over to his gaming chair he starts to unpack the tote and smiles fondly at all the things you had packed inside. There were snacks that he loved, a new gaming magazine featuring one of the games he loved to play, a new chicken figurine that you had found somewhere, and even a new outfit for Bbokari.

He happily began to put all the things you had gotten him away in their rightful places and began to grab the sunflower tote before he noticed something sitting on his desk. There sitting on the corner of his desk was a little origami chicken, he cooed at it as he gently picked it up and turned it around and around in his hands. As he turned a third time in his hand he noticed the little written note on the tail of the chicken on one side, open me. 

Gently and carefully he does manage to open it and sees your handwriting on the inside of the origami paper and he grins bashfully as he reads the words. Everyday you bring me joy and happiness. I hope I bring the same to you. I love you. And your name was signed at the bottom making him sigh dreamily at the sweet loving gesture you had given him. He pulls his cell phone out and snaps a quick picture of the note and sends you a text thanking you for the gifts, food and cute little origami chicken as he giggles happily at all the love he was currently feeling from you.

When he’s done texting you he tries to refold the origami chicken but finds that with all the creases in the paper he can’t figure out how to refold it. Frowning softly in frustration he turns back to his phone when it chimes with a text message notification hoping that it’s from you so that he can ask you how to refold the chicken. When he sees that it’s from Chan he huffs at his friend before swiping the message away and pulling up your contact and pressing the call button. It only takes two rings before you’re answering.

”Hey Sunshine!” You greet him sounding a little winded.

”Hi love, where are you? Seungminnie said you came by earlier but you didn’t stay.” He greets you and pouts slightly at not seeing you when you came over. He hears your softy chuckle and he feels his heart start to lift in his chest.

”I’m out with my nieces right now. I’m on babysitting duty tonight.” You tell him and he smiles at your words. “I couldn’t stay Sunshine, I had to go pick the girls up from school and now we’re in the grocery store getting ingredients to cook dinner with.” You tell him happily as he hears your nieces in the background making kissy noises.

”Can I come crash your sleepover?” He asked hopefully and you chuckled softly at his eager question.

”Miss me that much?” You tease him and he laughs softly in response.

”Always miss you sweetheart. Also I need your help.” He confesses quietly and you burst out laughing at his confession.

”What do you need help with babe?” You ask goodnaturedly and he smiles bashfully.

”Can you help me refold my origami chicken?” He asks quietly and your laughter fills his ears through the phone making him smile.

”So you liked the little chicken?” You ask him curiously and he huffs softly.

”Of course I loved it. It’s adorable when it’s all folded and it hides a special love note just for me.” He gushes shyly and you coo at him. “I love the little secret surprise inside him but I’d like to keep him folded and I can’t figure it out on my own.” He admits softly as he stares down at the unfolded piece of origami paper.

”Alright Sunflower, meet us at my apartment and I’ll refold the chicken for you. Then you can stay for dinner and a sleepover.” You tell him happily and Felix grins widely before he starts to pack an overnight bag.

*-*-*-*

The next week he finds a cute little elephant sitting on the corner of his desk waiting to greet him after he returned home from a trip to Paris for a photoshoot. He grins widely and happily chuckles as he rushes to his desk already pulling his phone out of his pocket. He snaps a couple of pictures of the elephant before gently opening it to read your note that you left for him. I am so proud of you reaching for and achieving all of your dreams. I love you so much and can’t wait to see what’s next in store for you. 

His heart swells with love for you with your sweet words and his grin consumes his face easily. He then pulls out the book that he had ordered last week and begins to look for the  directions on how to refold the origami elephant. At the sleepover with your nieces two weeks ago they showed him your origami book that you had and used for whenever you folded origami figures for them. He had made a mental note of the book and sneakily ordered it while you weren’t looking so that he’d be able to refold any origami that you gifted him with.

He concentrates avidly as he begins to refold the elephant and when he successfully is able to refold it he cries out triumphantly. Standing from his desk chair he then takes the elephant and places it on his shelf right next to the chicken from last week. He grins happily as he eyes his little duo of origami before sitting back down in his desk chair and grabbing his phone to send the picture of his origami elephant to the group chat with the guys to brag about his awesome girlfriend.

*-*-*-*

The next few weeks you manage to sneak in a swan, a dinosaur, a unicorn, and a llama into his bedroom and Felix is nearly overwhelmed with the love that you pour into your little army of origami figures. Every week that there’s a new figure left on his desk for him he feels his heart skip a beat before swelling to almost double in size. He loves every figure that you leave for him and he looks forward to them now each week but he’s been working on a surprise for you too and he’s eager for your visit today so that he can show it to you.

Tonight he’d begged Seungmin to go spend the night at one of the other guys’ apartments so that he can have a nice cozy date night in with you. He had even bribed the younger man with leftovers from your dinner if he left early in the day and didn’t come home til tomorrow. Seungmin had reluctantly agreed but only because of the promise of leftovers and the fact that he didn’t want to hear what Felix sounded like having sex again. When you show up laden with grocery bags Felix eagerly helps you bring them in before putting them away in the fridge and you give him a confused look but he smiles at you lovingly as he grabs your hands.

”Before we start cooking I want to show you something.” He tells you softly before leading you towards his bedroom You raise an eyebrow at him and he laughs softly at your look before shaking his head at you. “Not like that. Stop thinking dirty thoughts.” He chastises you softly as he pulls you into his bedroom. He then moves behind you and places his hands on your shoulders to guide you to his shelf where he’s been storing all his origami figures that you’ve made for him.

”Oh Felix!’ You coo out softly and he grins at your reaction as you both gaze at his shelf full of origami figures. He wraps his arms around your waist and nuzzles his face into your neck making you hum in response.

”I love all my origami figures you leave me. They mean so much to me, especially the notes inside. I love you so much and I don’t think I can ever tell you that enough.” He confesses softly to you as he brushes his lips against your neck. You’re enjoying the affection from him as you lean back into his chest and he hums softly while still brushing his lips against your neck, your eyes are still traveling along the shelf looking at each of the origami figures that you had made for him and smile as you remember the process and note held within each one. But then your eyes land on the last origami figure and you furrow your eyebrows slightly, it’s a little neon green frog. You lean forward while still staying in Felix’s arms as you reach and gently take the frog from the shelf.

”I didn’t make this one.” You say softly and Felix giggles proudly from behind you.

”No, I made it for you.” He whispers against your skin and your body flushes with a warmth that starts in your stomach and travels up to your chest settling where your heart sits. You see the little note that says open me in Felix’s handwriting and begin to gently and carefully open the origami frog. As the page is slowly revealed to you your eyes quickly dart over the words written there and feel your breath escape you in a gasp. You are my entire world and I promise to cherish every moment with you. Tears fill your eyes and you set the page down on his desk carefully before turning in his arms to cup his cheeks and press your lips lovingly to his.

Felix smiles into the kiss as he reciprocates it while tightening his arms around your waist pulling you in close to him. The two of you stay like that pressed flush against each other lazily kissing with your arms wrapped around each other. When you both are in desperate need of air you slowly pull away.

”I love you.” You whisper to him and Felix grins while nudging his nose against yours cutely.

”I love you too.” He whispers back and the two of you bashfully grin at each other.

SKZ Taglist: @intartaruginha, @kayleefriedchicken, @babigriin, @simpforleeknaur, @inlovewithstraykids

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Monster, Inc. 3

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as age gap, noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: your boss is an asshole, you know this. But what happens when he turns his wrath upon you? (plus!reader)

Characters: Lloyd Hansen, this reader is known as Missie.

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself💜

💼Part of the Bad Bosses AU💼

Monday's are always difficult. Especially as you cling to the good vibes of a girls' night out. The mood was a bit spoiled by the presence of few unexpected bosses but Elfie and Billie kept you all on track. Still, it wasn’t enough, you’re not ready for another week. 

You might not be but you make sure Mr. Hansen is. You have everything on his desk waiting. His coffee is in a travel thermos keeping warm, his daily itinerary is ready for him, and when he gets in, you’ll go to get his breakfast so it’s hot and fresh. 

You yawn and uncrinkle a pleat in your dress skirt. The brilliant shade of green is as bright as an emerald with a trim of yellow at the collar, belt and hem. It's loud but you don’t mind a bit of boldness. 

Mr. Hansen rushes by so quickly he catches you by surprise and your barely catch sight of him over your monitor as you snap your teeth down around another yawn. He’s so quick, he’s a blur. His door shuts behind him sharply and you stand as you go rigid as a pole. Oh no, what now? 

You don’t linger to figure it out. What you know about Mr. Hansen is that it’s best to let him simmer down on his own. The time it takes you to get his organic wrap should be more than enough. You head off with your purse and a bounce in your step.  

It feels good to be moving around. If you’d sat any long, you would risk an ambush nap. You can’t imagine your boss would appreciate that. 

You get to the bistro and put in your usual order. They know you there. They have a ticket ready to ring up and you pay with the company card. You step aside and chatter with the girl at the till about her film class in college. She’s sweet and very passionate about independent movies you’ve never even heard of. 

You claim your order and the complimentary iced tea Kamila made you. You thank her extra and head out, making note to return the favour the next time you stop by. You rush back to the office building a block over and barrel into the elevator. You smile at a man from the eight floor and wait for yours to ding. 

You carry on through the ritual of readying Mr. Hansen’s breakfast. You zap it in the microwave just to make sure it’s still warm and set out the porcelain plate. You lay it out with the little side of greens and tomato salad and leave your iced tea on your desk. 

You knock on Hansen’s door. No answer comes but you know better than to let yourself in. You knock again and put your ear to the door. A third time gets you a response. 

“Fast,” he demands from the other side. 

You open the door and declare your purpose, “Breakfast, Mr. Hansen!” 

You bound over as he keeps the back of his chair to you. You can see the top of his head over it despite his efforts to hunch down. Is he hiding? You put the plate where you usually do as he angles away from you. Is it Mr. Hansen? His hair isn’t that dark... 

“Mr. Hansen, is everything okay?” You ask tenuously. Silence. You hold your breath as he doesn’t move. You gulp and take a step back. “Sir...” 

“Fine,” his hits the armrest and spins around. 

You let your breath out with a gasp. Oh god. His hair is pitch black. The box dye has that blueish tint to it and is less than complimentary to his skin tone. Not to mention he didn’t touch the mustache. You do your best to control your expression and your. 

“Oh, wow, Mr. Hansen, did you get a new tie--” 

“Shut up!” He roars, “it’s not funny.” 

“Nothing’s funny, sir, I didn’t laugh.” 

“I can see your cheek...” he wiggles his finger tersely, “don’t.” 

“Sir, really, I’m not,” you assure him, evening out that ripple in your stomach and your breath. “You know, when I was in college, I killed my hair with bleach and died it green.” 

“Yeah, because green looks so good on you,” he chirps as he scowls at your dress. 

“Thanks, sir,” you smile, “but there is a point. I hated it. I got colour remover and managed to get to a decent brown.” 

“Colour remover?” He narrows his eyes. 

“Not as harsh as bleach but it stinks like rotten eggs. I think you could probably get at least a few shades lighter. And since it’s not green, you won’t go greener. Shouldn't.” 

He shifts his glare to the wall and his forehead pinches. His nose crinkles by his nostrils and he pokes his cheek with his tongue. He clucks and shakes his head. 

“Fine, go get it.” 

“Oh, uh, me? Sir--” 

“No one else is seeing me like this so go fucking get the remover,” he rolls his chair towards the desk and snatches up the wrap, “that shade of green makes my eyes bleed.” 

You give another gentle expression. You truly pity him. You’ve been there before. He was only trying to feel better about himself. To try something new. It happens, but you’re not so sure he should trust you to fix this one. 

There’s not much of a choice. You go back out to your desk and grab your iced tea and purse. Off to the pharmacy. It's kind of fun. An unexpected adventure to keep yourself from falling asleep. It’s exactly what you need. And who knows, if you can help Mr. Hansen get the inky dye out, he might lighten up. Literally.   

[padfootagain]

Love in verses (XXVI)

Chapter 26: ‘Well, how else are you to live except by denial’

Hi! Here is a new chapter! This is one of my favourites, just… some adorable stuff!

I hope you like this chapter! Tell me what you think!

****

Pairing: Hozier x fem!reader (professor!AU)

Warnings: slow burn, angst, hurt, hurt/comfort, tooth-rotting fluff in later chapters, some scenes in later chapters will have heavy sexual themes even if it’s not explicit nsfw description, so minors here

Summary: Your life seems perfect. You're engaged, your career is thriving as you become an assistant professor at Trinity College, and this Andrew Hozier-Byrne you're sharing an office with seems to be a nice guy you hope to call a friend soon. Life seems to be smiling at you... until everything goes sour. When your fiancé breaks up with you, your perfect world shatters. And when your colleague also gets his heart broken soon after, your shared office seems to be a curse rather than a blessing. But Andrew seems determined to mend your broken hearts... Will things finally go according to plan?

Word Count: 4227

Masterlist for the series – Hozier’s masterlist – Main masterlist

Earl

In Sitka, because they are fond of them, People have named the seals. Every seal is named Earl because they are killed one after another by the orca, the killer whale; seal bodies tossed left and right into the air. “At least he didn’t get Earl,” someone says. And sure enough, after a time, that same friendly, bewhiskered face bobs to the surface. It’s Earl again. Well, how else are you to live except by denial, by some palatable fiction, some little song to sing while the inevitable, the black and white blindsiding fact, comes hurtling toward you out of the deep?

Louis Jenkins

The pain in your abdomen was a sensation you were used to, sadly. You recognized the pattern in the intensity, you knew it perfectly after years of suffering once a month. This month seemed to be particularly nasty though, and there was little doubt on to why. Your stress was so high these days, between your new job, your research, your career, and Frank’s bloody wedding… You were drowning, to be fair. Drowning in an ocean of emotions. You bent in front of your sink, waiting for the wave of pain to fade again, closing tightly your eyes, while the microwave beeped with the heating pad now reaching a burning temperature. You placed it on your stomach, not caring about your skin, only about the pain under it.

Damn… that was a bad month…

You stood straighter again, letting out a long and careful exhale, relaxing once more. Your head was spinning a little, but you didn’t dare to eat too much for now, your nausea was too bad and you didn’t want to end up throwing up. You settled for a bit of rice and an apple for lunch.

You were supposed to see Andrew this afternoon, but there was no way you could plan on fucking up Frank’s appointment at the tailor when it was hard to stand… At least, it was the weekend, you didn’t have to deal with work, and could spend your day being a burrito on your couch while watching TV and eating junk food.

You were supposed to shop for groceries in the morning, but you didn’t have the strength for that either, so you decided that you would get some food delivered for the rest of the weekend and would tackle the issue of not dying of starvation on Monday.

You sat down on your couch, at long last, heaving a sigh of relief. You held the heating pad against your stomach, covered yourself with a blanket and grabbed your phone while you turned on the TV.

You pressed on Andrew’s name on whatsapp while the tu-dum noise of Netflix echoed in your living room.

You heaved a sigh…

… you had forgotten tea… never mind, you were too much in pain and too tired to be bothered making some tea now that you were seated.

Back to your phone, you typed your message quickly.

Hi Andy! Sorry, but I’m not feeling well today, gonna have to cancel for this afternoon. We’ll talk about our plans next week. Hope you have a nice weekend, see you on Monday! Xx

You pressed ‘send’ and started browsing in the list of movies available on your TV screen.

Your phone lit up with Andrew’s name.

Sorry to hear that! Are you alright? Do you want me to drop you something?

You were too tired not to acknowledge the warmth that spread in your chest as you read his text.

Nothing to worry about, don’t worry.

His answer was quick to arrive.

Are you sure? You want me to drive you to a doctor or something?

You chuckled at his obvious worry. He really was too sweet…

No, I’m okay. Period being bitches, that’s all. I can handle it.

He answered with a thumbs up right under your text, right when you found Pride and Prejudice was on Netflix…

Well, it looked like your afternoon was all set.

You cursed under your breath. You didn’t have any snacks. Not even chocolate… and your kitchen was so fucking far… a whole ten steps away…

Damn you and your stupid brain.

You were surprised when you received another text from Andy.

So, what’s planned for today? Did you get your groceries this morning?

You snorted at the mere thought.

Nah. Too much in pain. Too tired to go to the kitchen and make myself tea, so imagine going outside with people?! No, thanks.

I’m gonna spend my afternoon with Mr. Darcy instead.

You waited for his answer, ignoring your TV now.

The Keira Kinghtley movie?

You sent him a thumbs up.

Will you hate me if I admit that I’ve never watched that film?

You almost dropped your phone.

YOU’VE NEVER SEEN PRIDE AND PREJUDICE?!

OH THAT’S IT! DISHONOUR! DISHONOUR ON YOUR WHOLE FAMILY!

He sent a laughing emoji.

You’ve forgotten the dishonour on me and my cow too…

You couldn’t refrain a laugh, even though it hurt your stomach.

You don’t have a cow. But I’ll take it out on Elwood.

You could picture the grin on his face at the joke.

HOW DARE YOU! HE’S SUCH A GOOD BOY!

Elwood, my son, don’t listen to the nasty lady…

You laughed again, but quickly stopped this time, the pain getting too strong.

You didn’t think as you wrote your next text.

You could drop by and watch it with me.

You reread the text and realised your mistake; your eyes grew round. You were in your old pyjamas, you hadn’t showered and had no intention to do so, your hair was a mess, you hadn’t washed your dishes…

You wanted to delete the text, but the blue symbols under it let you know that he had already read it.

Damn it!

I mean… I’m in pain, grumpy and look like trash…

So… maybe not the most pleasant way to spend your afternoon.

Feel free to refuse.

You waited for his answer, watched the dancing dots, until a text was received.

I’d love to, actually.

Besides, I am not five, I know about menstrual cycles, thank you very much…

You bit on your lips as you hesitated.

You’ve never seen me like that.

 A pause. You guessed that he had rephrased his text several times.

Would that make you feel uncomfortable?

You thought about it for a second. Frank didn’t really pay attention to that part of you. It was cliché, but you knew he was making a conscious effort to acknowledge your period and how much of a burden they were to you. You saw it as him making an effort at the time. Now, you were worried Andrew would be the same, with typical disappointing male behaviour…

And yet, you didn’t care. You couldn’t find a way to care. You couldn’t imagine Andrew, out of all people, disappointing you on that. Perhaps it was naïve, you weren’t sure. Your answer was earnest anyway.

No

His answer came in a matter of seconds.

Give me forty minutes to come over then.

You smiled.

An hour then.

You laughed again at his answer.

Gobshite…

You didn’t select the movie for now and merely watched some crappy TV instead, with whatever was on.

You tried not to pay too much thought on how excited you were at the idea of Andy coming soon…

Andrew ended up ringing at your door an hour and fifteen minutes later, proving you right about his time blindness, and the thought made you smile. You had washed your dishes waiting for him, using a fifteen-minutes break from the pain to stretch your legs and attempt to look like a human being. The pain was soon back with full strength though, and you gave up on the idea to change into a proper outfit. You remained in your comfortable pyjamas, tied your hair up to hide the mess it was, and went back to suffering on the couch, the heating pad growing colder and less effective, but you were too tired to get up again.

You groaned as Andrew rang at your door, forcing yourself to stand. You couldn’t hold yourself completely straight, not with the pain in your stomach being now combined with a sharp stinging sensation in your lower back. You opened the door still, and welcomed Andrew with a genuine smile.

He was wearing his hair in a bun today, his glasses perched on his nose, and a warm smile on his lips as his gaze rested upon you. He looked gorgeous in a simple brown jacket, dark jeans and a black turtleneck. You couldn’t refrain the way your heart fluttered at the sight, nor the butterflies that were added to your painful stomach.

“Hey! God, you do look like shite,” he exclaimed, but there was worry in his frown despite the obvious teasing in his voice.

“Thanks for the compliment,” you stuck your tongue out, and he couldn’t refrain a chuckle.

He walked inside, took off his shoes and jacket, and it’s only when he set the bags on the floor to do so that you noticed them.

“What’s that?” you asked.

“Groceries.”

You looked up at him with a puzzled look.

“Jeez… if you were busy this afternoon, you should have declined!”

He laughed, and you were more puzzled than ever.

“These are for you,” he clarified, picking up the bags again.

You blinked up at him.

“For… me?”

“Yeah… you said you didn’t get any groceries this morning. Can’t let you starve! Come on, get a move on, these need to go in the fridge.”

You let him pass, followed him in your kitchen. He started to empty the two paper bags on your kitchen counter.

“I didn’t get you much, just enough to last for a couple of days. Pass the weekend. Nothing that needs fancy cooking either, don’t worry. Mostly pasta, rice, and a few vegetables and fruits. I also got some take out for tonight, so you don’t have to bother with cooking today. Chinese, hope you’re in the mood for that. And then, the obvious ice cream, crisps and chocolate combo. Oh, and I bought you this tea! My mom recommended it once for menstrual cramps to one of my cousins, and it’s apparently pretty nice, so… thought you could use that too.”

He looked up at you then, after his little babbling. He frowned at your expression though, and you noticed the shift in his demeanour: the way he shrank, bending over himself instead of standing straight, with his full height. Trying to look smaller than he was, to occupy as little space as possible. He rubbed nervously at his collarbone.

“I… I thought it would make things easier for you. I… I’m sorry if I’m overstepping… if you… sorry. Sorry…”

But he was interrupted by your arms around him; you almost tackled him with the strength, and you heard the loud huff he let out at the impact. It took him a couple of seconds to close his arms around you too, but then it felt like he was unwilling to ever let go.

“Thank you so much,” you mumbled into his chest. “That’s… so fucking sweet, Andy.”

“That’s nothing,” he tried to brush your thankfulness away, but you could hear in his voice that he was smiling again, feel that his body was relaxing once more. “I didn’t mean to overstep… I just… I just thought it would make it easier for you.”

You spotted your favourite chocolate on the table, along with some ice-cream.

“These are my favourite,” you whispered.

“I know.”

“You didn’t have to do that…”

“It’s nothing.”

You didn’t say it. You didn’t say that Frank had never done that for you. And Andrew did? When he wasn’t your boyfriend? When he didn’t even have feelings for you?

“Do you need anything else?” he asked, rubbing your back, and the caress was so soothing you were ready to cry. “Painkillers or something? I can go to the pharmacy…”

“I’ve got that covered, don’t worry. Thank you.”

“Right…”

Another cramp came breaking your embrace, you let out a groan as you held your painful stomach. You tried not to think of how your heart stumbled and missed a few beats when Andrew brushed a messy strand of your hair behind your ear.

“You really don’t look well. You should sit down.”

“I need to reheat my heating pad…”

“I’ll do it. I’ll do that, love. Sit down, okay?”

‘Love’… he had called you ‘love’… You wanted to cry…

Why were you so affected by it? It was Andy. It was Andy, not Frank, and you wanted Frank, you wanted Frank, you wanted…

He walked into the living room about 10 minutes later, carrying your heating pad under his arm, ice cream and some chocolate. He had to go back to the kitchen to fetch your two cups of tea.

“Alright… need anything else?”

You shook your head, and he settled on the sofa next to you. Readjusted the blanket so it would cover your feet. You didn’t recognise the flavour of the tea, you reckoned he had made a cup of the one his mother had recommended.

You refused to name the feeling that was spreading across your entire body, the unbearable fondness aimed at Andrew that came with it.

I want Frank, I want Frank, I want Frank…

“Alright, let’s watch Mr. Darcy getting rejected…” he grinned at you, as if he was at his happiest, as if he couldn’t have thought of a better way to spend his afternoon than to watch Pride and Prejudice with you while nursing you back to health because you were on your period…

You scoffed, trying to hide the tears in your eyes by looking for the movie on Netflix again.

“He doesn’t just get rejected. They do get together at the end, you know?”

“Thanks for spoiling it all to me…”

“Wait… you told me you read the book…”

He laughed.

“I did! I was joking, like… It was a joke. I did read it. I simply haven’t watched any adaptation.”

“Wow… Oh… so you haven’t seen the one with Colin Firth either?! The BBC series?”

“Nope…” he answered, popping the ‘p’ before taking a sip of his tea.

Two teabags. As always. The detail made you smile.

“Okay, that is going to be our next activity together.”

He laughed, but didn’t contradict you, on the contrary.

“Well, I guess my next Sunday is all booked…”

“Indeed, it is!” you grinned, but your tone was too soft not to show how emotional the thought of spending another afternoon like this with Andrew made you feel.

He didn’t comment on that, though, and you were grateful for it.

He reached for your coffee table, where he had put the two sets of ice-cream and spoons, and handed you one.

Your heating pad was back on your stomach, warm and effectively soothing your cramps. You seized the opportunity to eat a large spoonful of chocolate ice cream.

You moaned at the taste.

“Andy… this is perfect, I hope you’re aware of how amazing you are.”

He chuckled, but there was something a little sad in his eyes when he looked down at his food, a tinge of melancholy. You didn’t know why.

“Bribing you with chocolate is the way to your heart, then,” he joked, clearly stirring the conversation away from himself, while pushing his glasses higher on his nose.

“Of course,” you rolled your eyes, starting the film.

You exchanged another smile, while the movie started. You didn’t realise your own movements as you scooted closer to him on the couch, and neither did he notice how he leaned towards you, until your arms were softly touching.

“You have bewitched me, body and soul. And I love… I love… I love you…”

You heaved a sigh after whispering the words in sync with Mr. Darcy, clutching at your heart, burying your face further in Andrew’s shoulder.

You weren’t sure when you had ended up in Andrew’s arms, but you were now. He had wrapped an arm around your shoulders at one point, noticing how livid you had become because of the pain, how you had tried to withhold your wince but failed. And it was meant as a temporary anchor, a soothing gesture that should have lasted just a few minutes, until the pain subsided again. But when you relaxed once more, he didn’t pull away, and instead of freeing yourself from his hold, you leaned closer, sank deeper into his embrace. And now, he was resting his long fingers on your waist, while you leaned into his chest.

Which was… better not think about boundaries and friendship and professional behaviour and all those limits you were breaking.

Meanwhile, Andrew was brushing a tear away, but you spotted it before he could pretend it hadn’t happened.

“I know… I know…” you patted his chest, trying not to notice that you were touching his chest. “I cry every time too.”

“For proof,” he chuckled, brushing your tear away with his thumb, making your heart stutter and expand to the point that you wondered how it hadn’t broken any of your ribs yet.

“It’s Jane Austen’s superpower, Andy… we can do nothing against it,” you concluded before nuzzling into his chest again.

“I’ll have to agree,” he nodded.

You noticed how his breathing was a little irregular for a moment, when you shifted to be a little more comfortable in his arms, but he didn’t push you away, didn’t move at all, in fact. Instead, he waited for you to settle again, readjusted the blanket on both of you, and stared at the end of the movie. His cheeks were turning a bright shade of red. You hated the thought that crossed your mind…

There were but a couple of minutes left, it was the end: Mr. Darcy had walked across the moor already, he had declared his love and Elizabeth had accepted his hand in marriage. They were waiting for Elizabeth’s father. You were staring at Andrew, the feeling of your gaze on him made him look down as well, catching your eyes with his. His hazel eyes, they looked so green now, in the rather bright light of the late afternoon, and the tears he had dried just before had enhanced that colour too. Green… like leaves bathed in sunlight during the summer… you loved that shade…

You didn’t even notice when the screen went dark, when the credits started rolling. You were thinking of Andrew, of how sweet he had been all afternoon, of how handsome he looked now, how much turtlenecks suited him, how cute he looked with his glasses…

He blinked a couple of times, as if he were coming back from a reverie, and looked at the TV again. You looked at his profile, found yourself longing to run your fingers through his short beard, noticed the red tainting the brown of his hair.

“Well, that was an amazing film,” he easily admitted, bringing you back to earth.

And indeed, the story was over. Mr. Bennett had accepted their union. Elizabeth would marry Mr. Darcy. All ended well. Black screen and a list of names, printed in white pixels…

You pushed yourself out of Andrew’s arms.

Back to reality now… and in the real world, you wanted Frank. You wanted Frank. You wanted Frank…

You looked away in a hurry, and trembled at the loss of contact, when Andrew finally moved his hand away from your waist.

You kept on talking about the film for a while, but eventually, Andrew checked the time.

“I should get going, let you get something to eat. And I mean… something proper. Not snacks,” he teased, standing up and taking the remnants of your various snacks with him to the kitchen.

And you had to tell yourself that mantra again. Because your heart was aching at the thought of Andrew leaving. Which was ridiculous because you would see him in two days. Which was ridiculous because he was only a friend. A colleague, even. And it was ridiculous because you didn’t want him, you wanted Frank. You loved Frank. You wanted the life you had with him back. You… you wanted Frank. You wanted Frank… You… You wanted…

“Andy?”

He reappeared, coming from the kitchen, and tilted his head a little as a silent invitation for you to speak again.

“Do… do you want to stay for dinner?”

He stared at you for a few seconds, long enough for you to start spiralling and babbling…

“Unless you need to take care of Elwood…”

“No, my parents took him to the seaside today, they’re keeping him for the night. He’s living his best life, trust me. I bet my dad is giving him all the treats he wants.”

“Or like… I mean… you’ve already spent your afternoon with me, even if I’m sick and not the best company today, and… yeah, I totally get it if you don’t want to stay, like… that’s…”

“Y/N.”

“Hmmm?”

“I’d love to stay.”

“Really?”

“Of course. Why wouldn’t I?”

Because I’m too much to take care of…

You merely shrugged in response, making him chuckle, clearly unaware of your thoughts.

“Well, if you’re not bored of me yet, I’d love to stay for dinner.”

You grinned.

“Grand…” you nodded, and Andrew disappeared in the kitchen again to prepare dinner.

Still, you noticed how he was smiling when he turned around, how he was blushing, too…

You ended up watching tv again after dinner. The pain wasn’t as vivid as it had been during the rest of the day, and so you were more comfortable during that part of the evening. So much so that you started dozing off, as you were watching for the nth time how Luke and Han were trying to save Leia.

You had stumbled upon a rerun of the old Star Wars movies, and settled on the nostalgic feeling of these stories to end the day. Andrew was supposed to go home after the end of the movie, once the Death Star was gone and Leia was placing medals on the heroes’ chest.

Andrew had made you laugh with his best impression of Chewbacca, and you had made him choke on his glass of water with one of your jokes and snarky remarks. It was lovely, but you were so tired you neared exhaustion by now. So, it was quite logical that you started dozing off after a while, losing tracks of the story when Han and Luke were dressed as stormtroopers.

You hadn’t noticed that your head had fallen on Andrew’s shoulder as you were falling asleep. You didn’t notice how he stopped paying attention to the movie when you did. How his heart started pounding at how adorable you looked like this. He waited for a few minutes, to see if you would stir and wake up again, but you didn’t. He stared at you for a moment longer, but you weren’t aware of it. You weren’t aware either of the longing in his gaze, of the smile on his lips as he watched how peaceful you looked in your sleep.

You blinked your eyes open again only when you felt something slipping under your knees and behind your back, felt the warmth upon which your head rested move.

“Andy?” you called in your drowsy state, still unable to understand what was happening, where you were…

“I’m here, love.”

That pet name again… were you dreaming it?

You reached up, held onto a soft fabric, and somehow, despite the fact that you had closed your eyes once more, you knew it was Andrew’s turtleneck.

“You’re falling asleep, you need to go to bed,” he said softly, his voice unbearably low and deep, it made your heart skip a few beats and warmth spread across your entire frame.

And it sounded so reassuring… so safe… He was so reassuring…

You nuzzled into his shoulder, breathing in his scent. His cologne, his softener, him…

“Can I help you reach your bed? Can I do that? Is that okay?” he asked in the same caring voice, and you nodded. But then again, you would have accepted anything, for as long as you could remain in his warmth, as long as his voice came back…

You realised then that he was slipping his arms under you, it took a moment longer for your brain to register he meant to carry you.

“I can walk,” you whispered, opening your eyes again and forcing yourself to look at him.

You were too stunned when he bent down to kiss your hair to argue when he told you there was no need, that he got you, that you could close your eyes again. You obeyed, having no strength left to argue, and you wrapped your arms around his neck when he stood up and lifted you off the couch.

He readjusted your position, and then you were vaguely aware of moving, while he walked through your apartment. You nuzzled closer, your forehead brushing his jaw and your entire body trembled as you felt his beard against your skin.

Too soon, he was gently putting you down on your comfortable mattress, tucking you in, under your warm blanket.

You blinked your eyes open before he could leave, found his hazel eyes looking down at you. He seemed so tall like this, standing above your bed.

“Thank you, Andy. For everything.”

He smiled, gesture gentle and full of fondness.

“Sleep well, Y/N. Goodnight.”

He tucked a strand of your hair away from your face, and the brush of his fingers across your cheek made you close your eyes for good.

Your last thoughts were of him, while you heard him move away from the bed, recognized the creaking of the tiles by the door of your bedroom.

God, you wanted him so much…

[muddy-water-1997]

𝖣𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗂𝖼 𝖠𝖼𝗍𝗌 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖲𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗒 𝖪𝗂𝖽𝗌

"𝖨𝗍 𝖽𝗂𝖽𝗇'𝗍 𝗆𝖺𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗁𝗈𝗐 𝖻𝗂𝗀 𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗌𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗌; 𝗂𝗍 𝗆𝖺𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗋𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝗂𝗇 𝗂𝗍." - 𝖯𝖾𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝖡𝗎𝖿𝖿𝖾𝗍𝗍.

𝖫𝗂𝗍𝗍𝗅𝖾 𝖽𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗂𝖼𝖺𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌 𝖨 𝖼𝖺𝗇 𝗂𝗆𝖺𝗀𝗂𝗇𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖽𝗈𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖲𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗒 𝖪𝗂𝖽𝗌

𝖳𝖶: 𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗈��𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝗌𝗆𝗎𝗍, 𝗉𝖾𝗍 𝗇𝖺𝗆𝖾𝗌 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾, 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿𝗒 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾

Bangchan: Building flatpack furniture

"I’m pretty sure that’s not where that goes.” You tilt your head toward Chris, confusion etched on your face as he tries to fit a square piece of wood into a circular hole.

“Tell that to Ikea!” he scoffs, trying a few more times before giving up and looking at the instructions.

“Babe,” you say with a sing-song tone, reaching over the pile of wood to take the instructions. “They’re upside down.” You laugh as you flip the paper and hand it back to him.

“Oh! Well, that makes a lot more sense.” Chris chuckles, searching for the correct piece. “So the circle goes into the circle…” he mumbles, finally matching the two pieces. You laugh, returning to your part of the flatpack puzzle.

“Why don’t we just do this later, babe? We could be doing something much more exciting right now,” Chris suggests with a mischievous grin.

“Christopher. No. You’re not distracting me from building furniture with sex again!” you say, firmly putting your foot down.

“Well, at least I know how to make sure we finish that job…” he replies with a wink. 

Lee Know: Dancing in the kitchen when cooking

Sure, it was cliché, but nothing could stop you from dancing around the kitchen while cooking breakfast for the man you loved. Knowing Minho had a long night at the studio, you had your headphones on in a feeble attempt to keep the volume low so he could sleep. While he was a dancer by trade, you were more of a dancer by passion—or, instead, someone passionate about dancing despite being terrible at it, moving with the grace of an elephant in ballerina shoes.

It wasn’t unlike you to listen to your boyfriend's music in secret; you’d never admit it to his face—the relentless teasing about being a fan while sleeping in his bed wouldn’t be worth it. So, it was mornings like these where you could happily sing along to "God’s Menu" while whisking away at the pancake batter.

“Cooking like a chef, I’m a five-star Michelin,” you sang, mimicking Felix’s voice as you whisked and spun around the room, mindful of your voice level so you could bring Minho his pancakes in bed. After one last spin, you locked eyes with him, leaning against the counter by the door, clapping slowly, his heart eyes almost popping out of his head.

“Minho!” you exclaimed, jumping in surprise. “I tried to stay so quiet! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.” You apologised, walking over to kiss him on the cheek.

“I don’t know what I’m more offended by: the fact you were going to let me miss this, or that you weren’t singing my part,” he teased with a playful grin.

Changbin: Repairing a broken appliance

"Binnie, baby, it’s a microwave. I think we should just call someone or maybe just buy a new one," you suggest, reaching for his toolkit to prevent the inevitable disaster of him putting something metal inside the machine.

“No, bunny, it’s fine! I know what I’m doing,” he insists, reclaiming the toolkit and placing it back on the counter.

“You’re in an idol group; you’re not exactly an electrician. I just don’t want you to hurt yourself… or me,” you say tentatively, cringing every time he picks up a tool.

“I’m in a studio with electrics all the time. Trust me, it’s fine,” he reassures you, though his expression is puzzled as he examines the back of the microwave. He picks up a screwdriver, placing it against the panel to unscrew it.

“Wait!” you quickly interject. He turns to you with a raised eyebrow. “It’s still plugged in,” you whisper, teeth clenched at the near-disaster. He puts down his tools and grabs you in his arms, sitting you on the kitchen island planting a kiss to your lips.

“Maybe we should just call someone,” Changbin laughs in defeat, finally relenting.

Hyunjin: Changing the bedsheets

“We were so close!” Hyunjin exclaimed, bursting into laughter as another corner of the bedsheet popped off the mattress and landed in the middle of the bed.

“Are you sure this is the right size?” you asked, gasping for air between laughs. This had happened at least three times, and you were starting to suspect he was doing it intentionally just to make you smile.

“It’s the same sheet! It’s just been washed,” he insisted, trying to secure the corner back in place and struggling yet again.

“I’ll work on the sheet; you focus on the duvet,” you insisted. “Watching you do this over and over is going to give me a hernia.” You playfully swatted him toward the pile of duvets and covers. He relented, letting you take charge of the bottom sheet. You quickly pushed the corner into place.

“See, that wasn’t too—oh, shit.” As soon as you went to admire your work, another corner sprang free, sending you both into another fit of laughter.

“If we’re lucky, we might get into bed before the sun rises,” Hyunjin teased.

Han: Leaving notes around the home

Han had been away on tour for three agonising months. It was always the same when he left; nothing ever felt right. The apartment was too quiet, too clean; it didn’t feel like home. After his first long trip and realising how much it affected you, he started leaving little notes around the house in unexpected places. Even three months later, you were still finding new ones.

You both love this tea; you save it for special occasions—family, guests, and moments like these when you’re missing him more than usual. As the kettle boils, you rummage through the back of the cupboard and find the little metal tin you keep it in. Opening the lid, the sweet aroma fills the air, instantly reminding you of him. Reaching inside, you pull out another note. Reading it brings tears to your eyes, and you quickly grab your phone to tell him you found another one.

“Missing me so much that you got the tea out? I guess you must have hit the three-month mark. I miss you too, angel. - Hannie.”

Felix: Playing a competitive video game

“No fair! You cheated!” Felix exclaimed, his eyes glued to the screen in front of you both in shock. The tea on the table had gone cold, forgotten over the shouting and screaming from the two of you going head to head. Any on-looker wouldn’t believe you were madly in love with each other if they happened to pass by.

“Beginner's luck, what can I say?” you replied, leaning back into the sofa with your arms up, basking in your victory.

“It’s Mario Kart beautiful, there’s no beginner's luck!” He laughed, leaning over to kiss you as a reward.

“You know, baby, if you weren’t such a passenger princess—” you began, only to be cut off.

“Not you, too! I get enough of this from Channie-hyung. When do I have time to learn to drive?” he protested playfully, putting his remote down and moving closer to you.

“Well, Seungmin managed it…” you teased as he moved closer, trapping you beneath him with a roll of his eyes.

“One more round,” he pleaded, his lips brushing against yours. “Loser has to make dinner?” he suggested.

“Bet,” you whispered back, kissing him softly.

Seungmin: Deciding on what takeout to eat

You loved Seungmin wholeheartedly, but decisiveness wasn’t one of his strong suits. He sat at the table, surrounded by at least five different menus from local takeout spots, trying to decide what to order for dinner.

“At least three of these places serve ramen; just pick one!” you insisted, knowing you would end up ordering ramen anyway.

“But do you want ramen?” he asked, his eyes focused on the menus you hadn’t taken.

“Maybe after we’ve eaten…” you laughed at the innuendo, but Seungmin was too engrossed in the menus for the joke to register. “Minnie, love, it’s just food. I really don’t mind! Whatever you want,” you reiterated. He picked up a menu for a Chinese restaurant. Maybe he was going to stray out of his comfort zone. Then he put it back down and reached for one you had taken from him.

“Okay, okay. We’ll order from here. Their ramen is always good; can’t really go wrong,” he stated.

“You’re so predictable.” You laughed, standing up from the table to grab your phone to place the order.

“Hey! I just got the ramen joke!” he called after you, laughing.

IN: Binging trashy reality TV

“Come on! One more!” IN pleaded from the other side of the sofa. You were wrapped up in a long blanket, your legs intertwined with his, a bundle of snacks between you.

“Innie, I’m so tired!” you protested, eyes half-closed as he hit the 'Next Episode' button on the screen. You glanced at your phone; it was 11 pm. You’d been watching the same show for the past six hours, only taking breaks for meals and bathroom visits.

“Oh baby, but they’re just about to confront the cheater, and I don’t want to watch it without you…” His eyes were wide, pleading. How could you say no to him?

“Fine, one more,” you conceded easily. “But you’re bringing me breakfast in bed in the morning.” You joked, knowing he would move heaven and earth to make you happy. Truthfully, you were eager to see the cheater confronted by his three ex-mistresses.

“Deal!” he agreed, his face lighting up with excitement as the episode started.

𝖶𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗆𝗈𝗋𝖾? 𝖳𝖾𝗅𝗅 𝗆𝖾! 𝖬𝗒 𝗂𝗇𝖻𝗈𝗑 𝗂𝗌 𝖺𝗅𝗐𝖺𝗒𝗌 𝗈𝗉𝖾𝗇, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖨 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗀𝗎𝗒𝗌!

𝖶𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝗃𝗈𝗂𝗇 𝗆𝗒 𝗍𝖺𝗀 𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍? 𝖣𝗋𝗈𝗉 𝗆𝖾 𝖺 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗈𝗋 𝖣𝖬!

[hoes4matthew]

Warnings: fluff / little!chris / little!matt / cg!reader / bad spelling and grammar / low-key short

Summary: building a gingerbread house with chris :3

A/N: my first age regression fic yippe

Chris excitedly ran inside with the gingerbread house you recently bought whole grocery shopping. Matt happily ran a little bit behind him with a box of hot coco and marshmallows in his hands. They both excitedly ploped their things down on the kitchen counter.

You walked in with the rest of the groceries and shut the door behind you. Almost as soon as you put the groceries away you see Chris run up next to you.

"mama! can we make it now!? Tan we???" He bounced up and down excitedly. He's been so excited to build it ever since he saw it in the grocery store. Ranting about his ideas on how he was gonna decorate it.

"Of course! How about you get the stuff out of the box for me while I put the groceries away." He quickly nodded quickly. He ran back over to the kitchen table where the box was. He quickly and sloppy opened the box, nearly ripping it half.

It didn't take you long to put the groceries away. You walked over to Chris who's been waiting anxiously for you to be finished. He'd layed out all the different pieces and decorations.

"Alright bud!" You looked up to see Matt across the table hugging his stuffed animal and watching you two. He had his cosy Christmas blanket around him. "You wanna join baby?"

Matt shook his head. "I watch." He said quietly, laying his head on the table. Matt wasn't into the messy stuff. He was more of a cuddle with a hearted blanket while watching a christmas movie type person.

"That's okay." You smiled before you saw Chris attempting to build one of the walls himself. Which quickly failed, he let out a little groan of annoyance once the walls collapsed.

"Aw, it's okay bud! Let me help you." You two worked together while you helped build the house. He held up the walls while you used them, not at all helpful, icing. After some failed attempts and a near breakdown, you managed to get it to stand. Chirs let out a happy gasp of happines. "Thank 'ou mama!!"

"Your welcome darling! You can decorate however you want." Chirs turned too you nodding. He began carefully putting this icing on the roof of the gingerbread house. It's honestly the most focused you've ever seen Chris.

You heard Matt shyly mumbled something. You looked over to see him holding up a box of hot chocolate up. He had his favorite snoopy mug next to him.

"You wanna make hot chocolate?" He quickly nodded, getting out of his chair and running over to you with his cup and the hot chocolate.

You let him pour and mix everything himself. Besides the milk, which he requested you to pour. After the last time he spilled it on himself he didn't wanna pour his own milk anymore. He mixed it all up and put it in the microwave. He pressed the buttons as you told him how much time it needed. "Good job baby!" He smiled proudly as you praised him.

Then he quickly turned back to the microwave, swaying back and forth as he watched his cup spin around. Meanwhile Chris was adding his finishing little touches to his gingerbread house. You watched as he stuck a circle peppermint on the front. He'd somehow gotten frosting all over himself in the short amount of time you were turned away from him.

"That looks really good Chris." Matt tugged on your side as the microwave beeped. Pointing over to it. You laughed at his excitement before taking it out the microwave.

"Do you want whipped cream?" He thought for a moment before nodding. He watched you as you got the whipped cream and put some on top of his hot chocolate. He let out a happy squeak like noise.

"thank ou' so much mama!" He took a sip and nodded contently, going back to his seat and watching while Chris added one last decoration onto his gingerbread house.

"tada!" Chris steps back and looks at it proudly. There were sprinkles all over it in random places along with icing covering the whole roof, and apparently him too.

"Woah! It looks amazing!'' Chris held his head up proudly. Making sure you put it right in the middle of the table so anybody could see.

"Hey how about we all get cosy and watch a Christmas movie?" You didn't have to say that twice for Matt to be rushing to the couch. Meanwhile Chris changed into a new, clean shirt. He wanted to pick his own shirt.

"snowman!!" Matt kicked this feet happily. While you two got all ready to watch the movie, Chris was still oogling over his gingerbread house.

He eventually came over with you and Matt, He jumped onto the couch next to you and Matt with one of your holiday sweaters on. Leaning on your shoulder while Matt was on your lap.

This is kinda butt I'm so sorry

@cl4re-cain @1c3b4th @fratboychrisera @cherry-red-heart @mattybsgroupie (sorry is anybody from my taglist being tagged doesn't fw stuff like this 😢 you dont have to read if you donf fw kt c: )

[angellurgy2]

Pull The Trigger

your favourite freak's writing agaain! you ever wanted to read a story about a homophobic gamer boy getting doxxed and raped? well here u go! ^-^ part two coming soon

cw: noncon, forced gay, slurs, shit like that

sandstone brick, towering ahead. trapped in a corner, waiting, ak-47 comfortable in hand. listening, watching, pixel-perfect gaze. the soft pitter patter of booted footsteps approaching on sand. spin, shoot before you see. three shots of triple-round burst to centre mass. dead. 

multiple pings hit the wall ahead of him, pelted at while his back was turned. losing health rapidly. he flicks and sends his barrel spinning 180 in the opposite direction, blind trading fire. 

he screams into his bulky turtle beach headphones as the body in front of him ragdolls, screen blurring with bloody low health warnings. “YEAAAH FAGGOT, YOU LIKE THAT?”

he’s swiftly popped into the win screen, all chat and winner microphones switched on to offer a chance to flaunt or whine. 

[ALL] TriggerFinger: get GUD fags i’ll wipe u in the next one 2 lmao

[ALL] XxxGr1mR3eaperxxX: dude you suck u just got lucky

[ALL] TriggerFinger: i bet u kno a lot about sucking huh?

[ALL] TriggerFinger: just like your MOM

trigger clicks on to queue for the next game, a satisfied gleam plastering his face as everyone else is gone to the aether.

in the top left of his screen as loading screens trawl pops a message from an unfamiliar user. not on his friends list, rather it looks like they’re in the ‘recently played with’ section. probably just another noob coming to rage.

[PRIVATE] Anonymous-Specter: that was pretty rude, you know.

‘ThAt WaS pReTtY rUde-’ what a beta.

[PRIVATE] TriggerFinger: why shld i care? get a life faggot. lmao

[PRIVATE] Anonymous-Specter: you really shouldn’t talk to people like that.

this guy’s clearly got some form of retardation keeping him from getting the hint. but trigger’s got better shit to do. the loading screen for this game always takes so long. he grabs a pack of shrimp tempura cup ramen off the nearby shelf and fills it with day-old water from his water bottle, shoving it in the microwave for a couple minutes. he numbly trawls through social media feeds, doomscrolling the beautiful faces on instagram before that gets boring, then the stale porn on twitter, then the ragebait on 4chan. nothing satisfying his appetite except this one clip of some guy eating shit on his first try skateboarding, which too is ethereal in the drips of serotonin it gives.

ding!

he grabs his soppy steaming meal and brings it back over to his computer, stirring it with a stray fork before moving back into the screen. the first thing he sees is another message from the same person as before. he rolls his eye and opens the notification.

[PRIVATE] Anonymous-Specter: this you? 78.222.0.13

[PRIVATE] TriggerFinger: TF?? 

he thinks he’s so cool. trigger quickly tabs over to chrome, typing into the address bar ‘whats my ip ad-’ before it autofills. he clicks in, praying for the release of the little ball of stress slowing spreading in his chest. only to have it implode. IPv4… 78.222.0.13

ok. well, he’s probably just trying to scare you. theres not much you can do with a few numbers. he remembers the streamers he’s watched being ddos’ed and how freaked out they’d always get. he can’t find that humour in the angered horror on their faces now, though.

[PRIVATE] TriggerFinger: thats not my fuckin IP asshole. ur not funny

[PRIVATE] Anonymous-Specter: i think it’s pretty funny.

[PRIVATE] Anonymous-Specter: see you soon :)

trigger looks around his surroundings. nothing around, just the same open bland studio basement. mattress on the floor, check. couch, check. tv, check. tiny window that shows literally nothing but a foot of grass? check. its hard for him to hide the scowl of hatred at this empty rotting enclosure. shit, did you lock the door? he runs up and flicks it locked like how a child runs up the stairs when they’re scared a monsters behind them. not because of this ‘specter’ though. just normal precaution. he wouldn’t let another man take up space in his mind like that.

trigger sits. unable to pull his focus enough to start another game, or to divest himself entirely. stuck in a limbotic resting space. he grabs the monster can sitting on his desk - one of many - and pours it down his throat with anxious franticity. after staring at the screen for long enough, with nothing else he can see to do, he types.

[PRIVATE] TriggerFinger: What r u talking about? fuckin weirdo

10 minutes pass.

[PRIVATE] TriggerFinger: hello?

nothing at all. empty threats and childish games. who puts in that much effort just to cause a little scare? freak, probably a faggot too.

he sighs and switches over to spotify, plugging his favourite XXXtentacion album into his grindy bluetooth speaker and grabbing a pre-roll from his weed drawer. a rusted old lighter folds between his fingers. flick, flick. hot choking mist fills his mouth and then suffuses his screen as he blows it back into the stale air. he lies idly spinning in his gaming chair, puffing until its gone and until the words leave his head. empty.

but not for long, apparently.

a resoundingly loud knocking thuds at his door. earthquaking enough to shake him out of his seatlock. but the tremors remain, rocking through his veins. he gingerly lowers his eye to the peephole. a short man looks up from a foot away, holding some sort of black bag. this is it trigger, time to man up. he paces back with soft steps, pulling a steak knife from the block and holding it behind his back. no more games, this is real life. no more being harassed by that bitch landlord, no more bad looks when mom and dad visit. when the police find him beaten and you on top you won’t have to feel bad anymore.

he opens the door.

“Hello. uber for trig?”

he doesn’t remember ordering any food, was he really that faded?

“it’s… trigger. but that’s me, yeah.”

the man passes trigger an unlabelled brown bag from the bigger unlabelled black bag. something liquid seeps out of the corner.

“have a great night, sir!” 

trigger tosses the bag onto the table already scattered with trash. throwing the knife onto the counter along with it. being paranoid is the sign of a weak mind, you need energy. he thinks about the shrooms his bro gave him a couple weeks back, saved for a special occasion in a box under his bed. the devil and angel on his shoulders scream.

he examines the food. taco bell crunchwrap and spilled soda, amazing. he begins to clean it up right as a CLFBKGBNJ clanging from the kitchenette behind his back rings out. he turns to see a tall, muscley imposing man already towering over him from there. backing up slowly, like hes a blind animal that’ll pounce at any moment. 

“hey there.”

“hi???” his words spit out with a spiteful acidity, tantrumic. 

“you must be trigger.” his monotone face twists upwards into a cruel mockery of a smile. he examines trigger up and down, who shivers at being ogled like meat.

he hears his dad in his head. puff up your chest, faggot. you can’t let people walk over you like a little bitch all the time. he straightens his back, stops retreating. his voice mimics a tough deepness.

“you need to g-get the fuck out of my house.” 

specter tilts his head with curiosity. trigger can feel the aftershocks of monster and adrenaline crumpling his heart as he looks into the intruders eyes. a dark jade gazes back, blank. empty. like null space inside his skull, giving off only the aesthetic of a watching being. beyond the entrancing holes, partially hidden behind curtains of frayed brown locks, a jagged scar cuts through his face, curved and serrated with the impression of its assailant. 

“it’s not really your house though, is it?” 

trigger stares back dumbly. specter lifts up a chiseled arm and knocks on the roof, indicating where the landlord resides. “it’s theirs, really.” he takes a step forward.

“what’s your fucking problem man?”

another step back. guarding facade broken as quickly as it was put up. you’re weak. pathetic. he can smell it on you, just like they all can.

“here to give you an attitude adjustment.” he says it so monotone, like reading a script. as if you should know what that means. specter gives a wide scan of the interior. sizing up your crime scene? this won’t be going the way you think it will, buddy. “this is a pretty shit place you got here”

“not any more shit than the goon cave you probably got, bitch” 

the molded smile on specter’s face drops in a second. in 3 sudden steps forward he closes most of the gap between them, the air between the two grows cold. trigger has no choice but to back up more to keep the feeling of safety. the distance between handler and beast, but there’s no leash here. and there’s no medic to save him.

“listen.. s-specter? right?” he looks into those dead eyes with a quiver hes kept hidden for so long.  “i'm sorry i insulted you or- or whatever i didn’t mean it okay? that’s just online shit, this isn’t real.”

specter takes another wordless step, and trigger hits the wall. this isn’t real.

“why so quiet all of a sudden?” his hand reaches out and cups triggers chin, his face too frozen with animalistic chemicals to react. forcing trigger’s weak inebriated gaze to meet his, dead yet malevolent. “are you scared of me?”

trigger spits in his face. “you- couldn’t. scare me.”

untrimmed nails dig sharply into the base of his skull. “i will.”

“my dads the chief of police. you don’t wanna do this.” he tries to put on monotone the best he can, head as swirly with emotions as it is.

specter chortles. “no he’s not”

the music emanating from trigger’s desk scratches hard as it changes into a fast-paced track. specter’s eyes and ears twitch in its direction like a bat.

“this is what you listen to?” his smile almost looks genuine this time. he gestures at the ground below them. “stay here.”

he turns and moves to walk past trigger, when he jumps into action, leaping at the man with a guttural yell.  “AA-”

immediately cut off by searing blunt force ripping through his gut, sending him crumpling to the floor with the force of extraneous gravity. so you’re a warlock, subclassed into gravitational magic, is that it? he gets up onto his hands and knees, a trail of saliva connecting his lips to the dirty linoleum floors. he chokes on each breath he tries to take in. the pain is unlike anything his soft and unexplored body has experienced before. 

specter walks away to the booming speaker, pulling out a black rectangle from the pocket of the black jeans sticking to his legs.. the speakers switch to a new track, unfamiliar to his ears. some kind of aggressive rapping, underscored by a metallic sharp noise groove. he tries to listen for words, analyzing the rhythm and slotting it with memories of other songs to try and figure out what it is. but before he can comprehend the first words to come out, a rigid boot crashes into the side of his ribs.

dazed on the ground, heaving for the little pieces of air that’ll fit through his trachea, cartoons birds twirling over his head as he stares up into the ceiling. 

a sharp sound cuts through his stupor. “you’re funny” says specter, “i really thought you’d have more fight in you.”

PHWACK. the sound of some elastic material slapping against skin, a black glove clinging to specter’s boney hand.

trigger’s shocked by the feeling of cold on his bare stomach, face twisting with rage but the rest of the body betrays him with frozen fear. specter begins to slowly lift triggers shirt, feeling up his concave flesh with rubber digits.

specter flinches back as a red handprint manifests on his cheek. i wasnt even thinking i didnt mean to i just-

a vice grip takes hold of his windpipe, holding it hostage. the hand begins to rise upwards, holding him against a wall that wasnt there two seconds ago, and then he has to fight with his noodlish body to stand up before it rips his throat right out. “you’re so weak. how did you make it so long, bullying people like that?” his other hand then puts itself to use. the cold rises up triggers body slow and nerve-wracking. he tries not to feel it and to just keep his eyes on him. the tangible, hurtable, beast. 

his mind lags from his body, not realizing he’s on the ground before he already is. terrifyingly strong knees spreading his legs apart ever so slightly, invading hand-shaped ghosts pinning him into the dirty floor face-first. months of uncaring habitation coming back to bite him in the ass all at once. his eyes jump from little pieces of dust and crumbs, filling his vision more than their existence is intended for. brought low with the trash. maybe you should’ve listened to mom.

a bottle squirts loudly out of his sight. he tries to spin his head around but he’s just met with increased pressure on his neck, pinning him down like meat on a butcher’s table. fuck this. thrashing out with all the strength in his limbs- it forces specter to change up his positioning, but even then you can’t make a single scratch, slapping at this very real intruder like a whiney little girl. 

“stop it.” he says it like he’s talking to a petulant child, dry and tired.

“fuck you! get off me!” 

a rubbery object shoves itself down his throat as he opens his mouth to yell more obscenities. fingers ripping open his jaw, dispelling his pleas into inhuman garbling.  

“reht rre throo!” 

he looks around, there has to be something he can do. everything is dark blobs because of his eyes wetting from the fingers assault of his uvula. heavy whispers assault the back of his neck, venom in his blurred ears. “i could take out a tooth. how about that?”

he shakes his head, as much as he can crushed between these manly hands. 

water trickles down from the corners of his eyes. fuck, don’t let him see you crying, that’s the ultimate defeat. man card revoked. the only benefit of this positioning is that only the tile can see your face’s treason.

the hand abruptly leaves and moves back to the rest of his body. not preferable, but at least now his eyes will stop coating themselves in water. there has to be something on this floor somewhere if he can look. 

blood coats his vision. bloody floor, bloody nose, face shoved into a pool of it. he can feel his nose contort under the hard material, head bouncing off it with a loud crack.

‘look’, you shouldve known better. thousands of hours of experience watching torture scenes in COD, and you think he’s gonna give you a break? you’re not the shooter like you thought you were, you’re just the dead russian snitch. 

slender hands dip under the waistband of his sweatpants, threatening with slow dragging downwards. fuck, he is a fag. so much screaming in his head, be a man be strong fight back faggot stop being a fucking BETA. but the weak trembling in every inch of his nervous system won’t let go. the part that knows what you are. weak little soyboy. shit, was it the burger king? he looks at the softness of his tiny arms splayed out in front of him, thinking back to all those impossible whoppers he had during that first (and last) year of college. sure there were the conspiracies but- he had to lose some weight and it was right next to his dorm and surely a little bit of hormonal meat couldn’t hurt anyone. well, apparently not. he shudders at the thought of all those tiny little girl particles running around in his bloodstream.

coldcoldcoldcoldcold fuck. something cold and wet drips down his ass, sending rippling twitches through his body. something small pokes and prods, forcing the wet inside, already he feels speared through, he has to purposefully hold his face together to not burst into open sobbing. 

“shhh sh sh. it’s okay. you’ll take it.” 

it pulls out, a hot emptiness filling all feeling. another squirt, and more wetness shoved so deep he cant handle in the choking cries. “please. please don’t. i don’t- i’m not-” cut off by the finger pulling out again, leaving his hole gaped. “Fuck stop im not gay pleasepleasepleasepl”

a sweaty palm wraps over his mouth.

something warm and hard and fleshy begins to rub circles around his hole. pressing up so close his breath hitches in fear it might go in and then pulling back and then repeating.

“be a good boy and stay quiet, trig.”

pushing pushing pushing pushing pushing pushing

“HEEEEELPP WAIT PLEASE SOMEONE HELP ME PLEASE HELP NONONONONONONO STOPP#&$*%9

&$#%^#^%)#!($#$^%

##&% %%#(% %$$*$#&

*#$&$THELP

* * *

specters hard chest presses up close and warm against trigger’s back. hot, heavy breathing forces its way into his ear. they stay there for a moment, frozen in time. a breaking point cut, getting a cinematic view of his own ruination. what a shitty fucking movie this is. 

“mmhng-” specter pulls back, breaking the trance, almost making trigger wish he would’ve just stayed inside. he grunts at the feeling of trembling boyflesh seizing on his cock, shaking with each inch moved in either direction, clenching for dear life. he grips a handful of trigger’s hair and pulls it back, forcing his limp and drooling expression into specter’s vision.

 “so, what was it?” the burning rod of pressure starts to move faster, thrusting with detached force, muscular hips bouncing off trigger’s ass. “dad beat you?” another assault forward, enunciating each bit of words with the slapping of their flesh. “mom molest you?” it hurts sososososososososo bad but he cant feel anything other than the pain nothing but searing waves of some long-forbidden feeling. “or- fuck- you just get bullied too much in those squishy formative years?”

boiling hot rain streams down his face, terror burning his eyes blind. choking sobs spit out little bits of snot and saliva pooling with his tears below him in a sad filth soup. 

“oh c’mon-” specter reaches in closer, thoughtlessly pushing his cock into a switch that turns triggers legs to jelly. a waterfall of tears overlaid with shameful noises, the kind he’d before only ever heard through the speakers of a computer. each one abrading his will even more. he was supposed to be on the other side, not this. anything but this. 

“please stop”

“it’s too late.” his hand brushes triggers cheek, mimicking a comforting motion with uncomfortable skin, “you can never take back what’s already happened… and what’s about to.”

[thedevilrisen]

Prompt Celly - Day Two

Luke Hughes x Y/N

Description: I will be here, by your side, plus you can't hide that fever from me.

A/N: I hope you enjoy! Would be greatly appreciated if you could reblog. I love talking to people so say 'Hi' if you want to. Feel Free to send in requests as well. I'm happy to write for most hockey players.

Warnings: None, I don't think! It should be all fluff and a bit of friendly banter.

-Sincerely thedevilrisen.

My sniffles filled the desolate room, desolate minus the tissues, empty soup bowls and discarded clothes I had haphazardly changed out of this morning after a searing hot shower I had in a desperate attempt to clear my blocked sinuses.

It was safe to say being sick sucked, I believe everyone universally would agree. My phone had been buzzing consistently against the hard wood of my side table for twenty odd minutes and the grinding noise it was making made my headache worse than it already was. To stop the buzzing I had no choice but to pick it up, squinting against the harsh light of the screen looking at the name Lukey <3, 3 missed calls and 37 unread messages.

Shit.

Lukey <3

I swear if you don't answer me I'm coming over Y/N.

Please baby, I'm scared, what's wrong? What did I do?

Y/N, its been two hours, and I didn't get a good morning text.

Fuck this, I'm coming over.

DELIVERED 12:56

the clock on my bedside table read 1:13. It takes about 20 minutes to get here.

Double shit.

Shooting out of bed quickly, too quickly evidenced by the black dots and spinning room, I stumbled around, I picked up my tissues and put them into the trash can in my bathroom, I swept the used soup bowls under my bed and threw the miscellaneous clothes into the hamper.

"Y/N" Luke called thought the apartment.

Scrambling to open my bedside draw, shove my phone in and shut it, I leant over the bed like I was making it as the light from the hallway came flooding in.

"Luke? What are you doing here?" I feigned confusion, finishing pulling up the bed spread.

"I came to check on you, you weren't answering me and didn't send me a good morning text. I got worried." He spoke walking closer.

"I'm alright babe, was just having a cleaning morning, you know I put my phone away when I do that." I sat bad on the bed, he followed and pulled my hand out of its crumpled ball, leaning into me and enveloping me into a hug. He laid a gentle, lingering kiss on my forehead.

"I'm just going to get some water, want to watch a movie?" he asked.

"Sure, I'd love too!" I responded.

"Alright, get settled and pick a movie f'us yeah?" he mumbled into my hair.

"I will. Go get your water, then we'll start." I returned.

Luke's POV:

She's sick. I fucking new it. Not only did her behaviour give it away but her temperature is far too high to healthy. Wandering into the kitchen I opened the top cupboard, snagged a tin of chunky beef soup, leaned down to the draw filled with plates and bowls, pulling one out I opened the tin and watched as the brown viscous liquid sloshed into the bowl. Releasing the latch on the microwave I place the bowl in and let it heat up.

I sent Jack a text, saying I won't be back tonight. Pocketing my phone, I opened the fridge and got out two bottles of water, walked back to the microwave, opened it and pulled out the hot bowl, grabbing a spoon I walked back down the hallway and pushed open the door with my foot.

"Before you say shit," I announced, seemingly startling her. "I will be here, by your side. Because your sick."

"I-but" she rebutted.

"No buts, you were an idiot if you didn't think I would pick up on that fever. Now, I have soup, enjoy." I smiled as I handed her the bowl.

She slumped down on the pillows, mumbled a thanks and pulled the soup and spoon from my hand.

Walking around the other side of the bed, I settled in next to her and picked up the discarded remote to pick a show I know she couldn't resist watching.

Gilmore Girls.

[rotworld]

3: Long Goodbye

art by @exorbitantsqueakingnoises

your friend garrett went missing almost a year ago. when he mysteriously reappears asking to meet up again, you're expecting answers. what you get is much worse.

original work. suggestive but not explicit. contains non-consensual touching, blood drinking, emotional manipulation, hypnosis, gore, implied kidnapping.

.

.

.

You miss the first call.

The train home is crowded. It’s one of those dreary days where the rain feels like knives, falling cold and half-frozen in heavy sheets. Harrow Creek’s staggered silhouettes come and go like a mirage through the foggy haze, an anachronistic chimera of a city with thorns of Neo-Gothic rooftops and scalloped Art Deco skyscrapers, blunt and brutal modernism filling newer valleys of construction. Bright lights and billboards wink past the windows. On nights like this, you used to meet up with friends at an all-night cafe, commiserating over hot drinks and a shared plate of hot, buttery pastries.

It rings once. Twice. You don’t know the number on the screen so you slide it back into your pocket and watch the city pass by in gray-blue melancholy and golden smears of streetlamps. It buzzes, ignored. It goes to voicemail. Your stop is next. All you want to do is curl up in bed and not think about anything. Every signpost, stoplight and utility pole on the long uphill walk to your apartment building is papered with crumpled, peeling posters, faded and weather-beaten. 

“MISSING” they say in bold above a smiling face. Short brown hair. Hazel eyes. A flash of checkered red and black at the bottom from his favorite scarf. “PLEASE CALL IF YOU HAVE INFORMATION.”

You miss the second call. You’re peeling off a soggy sweatshirt and kicking off waterlogged shoes. You need to eat something but you don’t feel hungry, just empty. On the news, they’re saying there’ll be rain tomorrow, too. You shove something in the microwave and watch it spin, checking your messages just for something to do. Someone asks about trading shifts. Someone asks if you’re doing alright. A chime, and then a new message pops up. Unknown number. 

“its me,” it says.

Another chime and then another, and another, coming so quickly your phone can’t finish the notification sound before it interrupts itself with a new one.

“still alive.”

“srry.”

“plz pick up.”

“im in trouble.”

You’ve never hit the “call” button so fast.

He doesn’t answer right away and you pace, your heart racing, listening to the sluggish one-note ringing with growing panic. It’s him, isn’t it? It has to be. That’s how he texts, one rapidfire thought at a time. But what happened? Where is he? Why the new number? Is he with someone? Is he safe? He said he’s in trouble. Was that him before, those calls you didn’t answer? You’re starting to spiral when the ringing suddenly stops. 

Silence. A shaky exhale through static. Someone starts to speak and then stops themselves. Takes a deep breath. Starts over. “H…hey. Hi. I’m…I wanted to talk to you.” 

It’s him. You have to lean against the kitchen counter, your knees buckling. “Garrett?” you say, quiet, hoarse and hopeful. “You’re okay?” 

“I’m okay.” He doesn’t sound okay. Garrett is the social butterfly of your friend group. He’s a smoothtalker, a good listener, the kind of guy everyone knows and likes and owes a beer. And he’s unflappable, too confident to lose his cool, too unbothered by insults to pick a fight. He’s a safe harbor in the insular cliques of Harrow Creek’s nightlife. He’s your best friend. You hear him sniff and clear his throat, a long pause before he tries again. “I’m okay. I’m sorry I didn’t…I couldn’t call before. They’re strict about…” He stops abruptly. Another inhale, pause, exhale. “Can we meet up?”

It’s eleven at night and you’re a cold, tired mess. “Yes,” you say without hesitation. You beg him not to hang up while you change out of your wet work clothes into something warmer and he sounds uneasy. He mutters something that comes through muffled, away from the receiver, and a different voice says something indistinct. “Should I bring someone? Harley’s probably still up.”

“No,” Garrett says quickly. “Just. Just you, please. You’re the only one I called. I can’t…I’m not even supposed to…”

“Just me,” you assure him. There are a million more things you want to ask but he talks to whoever’s with him again in that small, scared tone and you know you won’t get answers. “Where should I meet you?”

“Thank you.” 

Those two words make your chest feel tight and aching. That’s the Garrett you know. The smile you can hear. The quiet relief. He’d sounded so begrudged and exasperated when you offered to bring him cough syrup and tissues that time he got sick, but he met you at the door with and promised to pay you back, looking at you like you’d hung the moon and stars in the sky. He always took care of everyone else. He wasn’t used to being taken care of.

“No problem,” you say, swiping a hand across your face.

“Have you heard of Betwixt? It’s a bar on the east side, right next to the movie theater and the Italian place.” Another pause. Another murmur from someone you don’t know. “I gotta go. I’ll meet you there in a bit. Just you, please. Don’t tell anyone. I’ll explain everything, but it has to be you.”

You throw your coat back on. Different shoes. Remember your umbrella this time. You take the stairs two at a time, throw yourself back into the cold and rush down the same street you just trudged up. East side, he said. Movie theater. Pizza place. You’re not over there much so you look it up online. A couple train stops later and you’re in an old part of town, the streets wide for trolleys that don’t run anymore. The buildings are red and brown brick, the rooftops prickly with chimneys and jagged spires, hunched gargoyles leering over the edge. The streetlights don’t seem as bright, all burnt orange and eerie.

The map on your phone says you’ve arrived as you stand in front of a stone archway with double doors set further inside. A vintage sign hangs overhead, painted wood dangling from a decorative metal pole. “Betwixt” is printed in curling, golden letters on a black background. From here, it looks more like a classy, upscale restaurant than a bar, candlelight glimmering on the other side of the glass. You push the door open. The heat is on inside. 

Wooden floorboards creak under your footsteps. It’s dark. More than ambience, the candles are the only source of light. You can’t see much but you can hear lively conversation, the scrape of chairs and the clink of glasses. You glimpse an eclectic collection of framed photographs on the walls; portraits and landscapes, city vistas and mountaintop views. There are a few small tables scattered around and a row of booths against the wall, candlelight gleaming on leather upholstery. A couple in the back presses close in a booth, hands wandering. You hear a giggle as one of them caresses the other’s cheek. Traces their jaw. Runs one fingers down the side of their neck and whispers something that makes them shudder. Eyes glint in the dark like a wolf’s caught in headlights and you step back quickly.

“Excuse me,” someone mutters, touching your shoulder to guide you out of the way. But they stop suddenly, turning around to look at you. 

Not Garrett. He’s too tall, shoulders too broad. Hands in the pockets of a leather jacket, he tilts his head and looks you up and down with obvious interest and a widening smile. You try to get past him and he steps in your way. 

“Hey. You wearing red?” he asks, his tone flirtatious. 

You stare at him, shaking your head slowly. You don’t know what he’s talking about but you don’t think it’s any of your business. “I’m meeting somebody here.” You take another step back, nervous. You see more animalistic eye shine, the glint of unwanted predatory attention. Your pulse quickens. You’re definitely not supposed to be here. Why didn’t Garrett warn you?

“Yeah? I can keep you company ‘till then.” The man takes a step closer. “Is this your first time? It’s alright. Don’t have to be nervous. You could practice with me, if you want. I’ll be gentle.” 

You back into someone. A hand grips your shoulder, keeping you still. “This one’s mine,” you hear, the words low and angry. Your heart lurches in your chest. You know that voice. The man in front of you scowls, shrugs, and stalks off towards the bar in the back. You turn around and see what you stopped hoping you’d ever see again, lightheaded with overwhelming, conflicting emotions.

It’s him. You know it is. It doesn’t matter that half of his face is concealed, a mask over his nose and mouth. It’s stiff, not flimsy fabric but something firmer. Those are his eyes, wide and astonished with tears bubbling up along the lower lid. That’s his voice, slightly muffled, saying, “Sorry. Uh. Hope you weren’t waiting too long. You wanna sit down?” 

You look around nervously. A few people are staring. You can tell because you can see their eyes, wolf-like and glinting in the dark. “Could we step outside? I don’t think this bar is for, uh…” You don’t finish the thought. It doesn’t matter if you whisper. They’ll all hear you.

“Humans?” Garrett says. Chuckling, like this is funny somehow. “No, it is. It’s for everyone. That’s why I picked it. So we could both…” You look at Garrett and he looks back at you, something desperate in his gaze. “Please don’t go,” he says, his voice quivering. 

“I won’t,” you assure him. You don’t know what else to do, so you step forward to wrap your arms around him. Garrett nearly knocks you over when he hugs you back, surging forward, meeting you halfway and more. He squeezes so hard that it hurts but you don’t say anything because he’s shaking, breathing heavily against your shoulder. He buries his face against the side of your head, the thick material of his mask nudging against your nose and your jaw. He nuzzles into your neck. He growls. When you go rigid in his arms, he pulls away like you burned him, squeezing his eyes shut. His shoulders rise and fall as he takes deep, steadying breaths. In for five. Hold for five. Out for five. He does it over and over until the tremors stop. 

“Okay,” he says finally, opening his eyes. “Okay. Sorry. I’ve got it under control, I promise.” 

“We need to talk about this,” you tell him as gently as you can. 

He looks at the floor guiltily. He nods.

Garrett leads you to a booth in the back. The chair that shares the same table is already occupied. A stranger sits there with a notebook open on the table, pen in hand, scribbling something. He doesn’t look up when Garrett slides into the booth across from him. He’s not dressed for the weather, just a thin tank top under a jacket falling halfway off his shoulders. He has long hair, bleach white, the ends dyed blue. Both arms are tattooed from the shoulders to the backs of his hands. You don’t sit down and Garrett looks nervously from you to the stranger and back again. He doesn’t look afraid of him, you think. More like he’s the only thing keeping him from falling apart.

“Virgilio,” the stranger introduces himself, still not looking at you. You can’t read the page in front of him but there are notes of some kind, something that looks like a list. He’s doodling in the margins. “Just supervising. Don’t mind me.” The other voice on the phone wasn’t clear enough to hear, but it sounded close to his. Deep and gravelly.

“I’ve been staying with him,” Garrett admits. His eyes are pleading. He scoots over further, leaving plenty of room for you in the booth next to him. 

Reluctantly, you sit down. “You said you were in trouble.” 

“I was. I still am, I guess. It’s complicated.” Garrett rests his hands on the table and they fidget restlessly. His fingers have been picked raw in places, pink underlayers of skin and newly-healed scabs surrounding his nails. You set your hand next to his, palm up, offering. Garrett grips it immediately. He laces your fingers together and holds on tight. “You remember I was going on that trip? Flying out to see Nate, hang out for the weekend?” 

You nod. You remember. That’s the trip he didn’t come back from. Nobody’s heard from Nate since, either.

“That’s when it happened. We were going out for drinks. It was some place with live music and…” Garrett rubs his face. “I can’t. I can’t say it. Can you please…?” 

Virgilio stops writing. He hooks his pen into the notebook’s spiral metal spine and actually looks at you for the first time, studying your face, glancing up and down. His stare makes you uncomfortable. It feels like he’s looking through you rather than at you. “What do you know about nightbound?” he asks.

You knew where this was going—knew the moment you saw reflective eyes staring back at you in the dark—but the word still makes your pulse pick up. “Not much,” you admit. That they exist and that it’s what they call themselves. You don’t know when or why ‘vampire’ became a dirty word. 

Virgilio nods. He doesn’t look surprised. “Garrett is the victim of an unauthorized turning.” He speaks slowly and clearly, the words unauthorized turning enunciated so there’s no misunderstanding. “It was traditionalist dissenters. That means people who don’t respect Council authority, running their own compound in the middle of nowhere and grabbing whoever they wanted off the streets. It’s my understanding that Garrett was taken with four others from a music venue, but he’s the only survivor of his clutch. Two didn’t survive turning. They had the other…” He pauses, studying your horrified expression with a slight tilt of the head. The gesture strikes you as animalistic. Bird-like and curious. “Well, they were traditionalists. They only want one per clutch, and it’s up to the hatchlings to see who makes the cut.” 

Garrett squeezes your hand. He avoids your eyes. “Right,” he says hoarsely. 

“Why is he in trouble?” you ask. “It’s not his fault this happened to him. He shouldn’t be punished for it.” 

Virgilio leans back, throwing one arm over the back of the chair. He regards you with renewed interest, his head tilting the other way now, frowning like you’re a puzzle he can’t quite solve. “He’s not in trouble for getting turned. The problem is his appetite. Traditionalists aren’t big on restraint. He’s been taught to gorge himself whenever he’s hungry, and we get a hunger response every time we catch a whiff of a human on the breeze.” 

“I’m getting better,” Garrett insists. He sneaks a look at you out of the corner of his eye but quickly looks away as though ashamed. 

Virgilio nods. “It’s true. He’s come a long way in just a few months. But that’s why he can’t call anyone. They’d want to see him to make sure he’s alright, he’d smell them, and it’d get messy. Well, that and the Council wants him to focus on acclimation. Hatchlings do better in the long run if they start over. Make new friends.” 

“New friends?” you repeat, your voice thin. “So he’s just supposed to cut us off? Let us all think he’s dead?” 

“No,” Garrett insists. “No, no, it’s not like that, it’s more like…like a precautionary—”

“Yes,” Virgilio says. 

You look at Garrett, his shoulders drawn up, trying to disappear into his seat, and Virgilio staring at you both across the table. “But he called me,” you say.

“I let him call you,” Virgilio corrects.

“Why?”

“Well…” He drums his inked fingers on the table over his notebook, humming thoughtfully. “How do I put this…there’s an exception. He gets to keep someone from his old life under very specific extenuating circumstances. You happen to fit all the criteria.” Virgilio pauses. He looks at Garrett. Inclines his head towards you. “Go on,” he drawls. 

“Right. So.” Garrett steadies himself with a breath. “Feeding is, uh…it’s. Really intense. And emotional. So if you’re going to do it, you know, not just from a bag but from a person, from…” He stops, stroking your thumb with his. “If you’re going to do it, it should be with someone you know and trust. Who trusts you, too. That’s how it’s supposed to be. And you’re…I mean, we weren’t…I never got to ask…”

“Garrett,” Virgilio says, sounding impatient. 

Garrett tugs at your hand gently. He brings it up to his mask, pressing it against the inside of your wrist. “I want to feed on you,” he says. His voice is hoarse. His eyes half-lidded and nearly black, pupils fully dilated. “Please. Please let me feed on you.” 

“You’d have to move in,” Virgilio adds, rubbing his chin. “It’s just standard procedure. I have Garrett feeding often, but on much smaller amounts. A sip here and there. And it’s not a bad gig, you know. The Council will do just about anything to keep you comfortable. You’d be doing us a favor, after all.” 

They both stare at you expectantly and it makes you feel like cornered prey. Gently, trying not to upset him, you tug your hand out of Garrett’s grasp. “Can I have some time to think about it?” you say carefully. Garrett’s shoulders sag in disappointment. Virgilio frowns. “It’s just…it’s a lot. All of this. I want to help Garrett. I don’t want to lose him. But I have to figure some things out if I’m going to move.” You have to tell someone. Your friends. His family. The authorities. The nightbound must have their own government—that “Council” Virgilio keeps mentioning—but you don’t trust them. Nothing about this sits right with you. 

“Sorry,” Garrett mumbles. 

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” you assure him, shifting away as discreetly as you can. “None of this is your fault, okay? We’ll figure this out, I promise.” Another small, subtle scoot back, but you don’t get far. Someone slipped into the booth behind you. Panicked, you turn around and find Virgilio sitting far too close, one of his hands seizing your arm and the other grabbing your jaw. When did he get up? You didn’t see or hear him move. 

“I couldn’t do it,” Garrett says miserably. 

“I didn’t expect you to.” Virgilio grabs your chin between his thumb and fingers, tilting your face higher to meet his cold gaze. His eyes are gold. Bright and glittering, speckled with flecks of amber and paler yellow. Your struggles to get away from him are hampered by his eyes and just how pretty they are. How nice they are to look at. How easy it is to lose yourself in them. Like autumn leaves. Like honey. Warm. Gentle. Comforting. Gold. 

You feel so tired. What were you doing earlier? And why?

“It takes practice,” Virgilio says. “You probably wouldn’t be able to maintain it very well. It’s another thing we can work on later.” He sounds faraway. Echoing. He never looks away. He doesn’t even blink. Your eyelids flutter but they don’t shut completely. You don’t want to lose sight of him. “Don’t feel bad. You tried asking. If they want to be mad at someone, they can be mad at the Council. Here, hold onto them. It’s fine. They’re under.” 

Virgilio pushes on your shoulder, urging you to lie back. You’re in Garrett’s arms now, leaning against his chest. It feels nice to be here. Nice to be between the two of them. You look up at Garrett and his eyes are pretty, too.

“You can take the outer layer off,” Virgilio says. “Just the outer layer.”

Garrett nods feverishly. He pinches the edge of his mask and something shifts. There’s a shrill, sticky sound like velcro. The mask comes apart, a thick panel of leather peeling off. Garret sets it on the table and you see him better now, nose and lips and the way he’s panting, but there’s still something on his face. Dark lines. Bars. Metal? The frame of the mask is still hooked over his ears. 

It looks like a muzzle.

“Take a breath,” Virgilio reminds him.

Garrett listens. You see his lips part. A tongue, darting out to moisten them. A flash of fangs. He holds you close as he tugs your jacket down, pulls the neckline of your shirt to the side, and leans in. The muzzle digs into your neck. You hear Garrett suck in a deep breath. He shivers. His breath comes in hot, humid puffs against your skin. Saliva drips through the muzzle, his tongue desperately pressed against the metal trying to reach you. 

“Garrett.” 

“I know. I know.” He pulls himself away like it physically pains him to do so, groaning, biting his lip. “Fuck, I can’t…I need them so bad.”

“Look at me. You’re doing fine. I’ll stop you if I have to, but I wouldn’t have brought you here if I didn’t think you were ready. I’m going to unlock your muzzle.” 

You feel your stomach twist. A twinge of fear sours that sweet, floaty feeling making everything soft and nice. Something’s wrong here, isn’t it? Something is very wrong. You were trying to leave. Why were you trying to leave? You hear a chair scrape the floor. Footsteps. It’s all muffled and dreamlike, impossible to focus on. Your head lolls back and you’re staring at the ceiling. Where are you? Smells like beer. Like blood. There’s a loud metallic clatter and then a hand against your neck. Shaky fingers. A loving caress. 

“Just like we practiced,” Virgilio whispers. The hand on your shoulder tightens. A warm, wet mouth presses against the side of your neck and you remember suddenly, the realization like ice water down your back. It’s too late. You see Virgilio looming over both of you, standing beside the booth. He tilts his head. Smirks at you. Garrett bites down. 

You’ve never felt pain quite like this. There’s the sharpness, daggerpoints sinking into your skin hard and deep enough that blood gushes out of the wounds, and a spreading heat like your veins are igniting. It’s not a nice, neat incision, not just two little pinpricks. His jaw clamps shut and all of his teeth are crunching through flesh and delicate soft tissue. There’s the arrhythmic agony of Garrett’s tongue pressing at the wound in short kitten licks and the greediness of his mouth, harsh suction that pulls and drags at delicate things under your skin. Garrett moans against your skin and you scream when he pulls and tugs and finally wrenches his teeth out of you, only to drag them teasingly against a new, unmarked spot slightly lower. 

You beg him to stop. You plead and you cry and you try to make him look at you. You regret it when he finally does. Garrett looks like a wolf that just dragged its snout out of a dead deer’s belly. Your blood is smeared all over his mouth and dribbling down his chin. Panting open-mouthed, you see it staining his teeth. He swipes his hand across his face, making his fingers red and wet. He licks them, one at a time. He moans at the taste, drool escaping the corner of his mouth.

“I’d let him give it another try, if I were you,” Virgilio says. “No venom in the first bite. If you don’t want to feel that in the morning, you’ll need a dose.” 

You don’t answer. You can’t. It hurts whenever you breathe, or swallow, or your heart beats. You feel like you’ve been chewed up and spat back out, your neck raw and prickling. Garrett’s eyes are drawn to the slow ooze of blood from the bite he left behind and you see the moment he realizes what he’s done, how badly he’s hurt you. Eyes wide, swallowing hard, he tries to say something but never does. He looks at Virgilio but the other man looks at you, waiting for an answer. 

You tremble, your hands clutching fistfuls of Garrett’s sweater. Shaking and reluctant, you touch Garrett’s face, resting your palm against his cheek. His eyes shut and he lets out a pleased sigh, turning to kiss your wrist. You flinch in anticipating terror when he licks and nips at your skin, but he doesn’t bite. Something about the gesture, the reverence he shows your wrist and your hammering pulse beneath the skin, feels important. Maybe it means something special to the nightbound. Maybe he’s trying to tell you something. 

“Make it stop hurting,” you beg him. 

Garrett kisses your wrist again. He holds it against his cheek, eyes closed in bliss. Carefully, he moves you. Rests you against his other shoulder. He exposes the untouched side of your neck and you can’t stop the helpless, frightened tears that prick the corners of your eyes, expecting even more agony. He kisses the spot first. A chaste peck first, then longer, with tongue. You feel his fangs first, sharp as thorns. A dull pressure. A sharp pain.

And then, without warning, there’s ecstasy. 

It starts in your neck. Everything he touches, everything his teeth rip and shred and tenderize, feels electric. The blood dripping down your shoulder feels like a caress. His hands are on your hips and he’s moving, rocking against you, gasping and breathless as he grinds the hardness in his jeans against your ass. Every sensation is razor-sharp and amplified. Everything that used to hurt is heavenly now. Garrett’s teeth come out of your neck with a wet, sucking sound and then he’s licking you, making love to the wound with his tongue, whispering sweet nothings and promises of always, forever, no matter what it takes. 

“I’m sorry,” he tells you. “I shouldn’t have lied. But you’re glad, too, right? This isn’t goodbye after all.” 

You’ll be mad at him later, probably. You’ll scream and you’ll cry and you’ll find a door you can lock, anything to put some distance between the two of you. But it feels good now. Everything is perfect sweetness and heady delight. You curl into Garrett’s chest and he holds you, not like the way he used to but in a new, more desperate way, like you might disappear if he lets go. Virgilio says something about a mending poultice. Stopping the bleeding. Getting you settled at home. You don’t care. But even now, in this warmth and haze, part of you understands that nothing is ever going to be the same again.

[xclowniex]

This might be a bit random, but I remember you posted about moving into a new apartment a while back. I’m moving next month, and it’ll be my first time living on my own. I’ll be by myself, and honestly, I have no idea how to clean. If you have the time and energy, could you explain where to start? Sorry if this is super random—it’s just feeling a bit overwhelming!

Hey! no need to apologize, we all gotta start somewhere. I would be happy to help.

The first thing you should know is which tasks are monthly, weekly or daily tasks. Some thinsg get dirtier quicker than others so need to be done weekly. Daily usually just help keep things tidy rather than clean and mothly is for the things which get dirty but not quickly.

There is one exception to this which are your walls, which should be wiped down once to twice a year with some general purpose spray.

Monthly tasks: Oven Stovetop Rangehood Microwave Fridge Skirting boards

Shwer curtain (if you have one)

When you move in, depending on the previous tenent, the oven might take a while with that first clean, but after that, it shouldn't take too long to do each month.

What you want to do is remove the racks and let them soak either in the sink or bathrub with some hot water and dishsoap. Get a cleaning product like designated oven cleaner or jif (jif is the best multi purpose thing out there), and put some in your oven. Use a cloth or sponge to spread it around and let it sit for 5 minutes. You an do another task whilst it marinates. Then you want to get something to scrub with. A brush or the green side of a sponge or even a scrub daddy all work well, and scrub the entire oven. Then get a damp cloth and wipe away the cleaning product, rinsing and wringing out the cloth as you go. If the oven has some subborn spots, repeat until you are happy with it. Lastly, return to your oven racks, scrub with a dish brush or tooth brush and if there is still stuff, get some jif and use that.

With the stovetop, you should be wiping it down after every use, but things do get stuck to it, which is normal and okay. So you want to get jif or another similar product, squirt it on and spead it around, let it sit. Then scrub and wipe off similar to the oven.

With the rangehood, there is a filter you need to remove. If you are having trouble, find the brand and try and find the manual online to see how to remove it. Usually there is a clip you press back to unlock it out of place and remove it, with some there is no clip and you just press it into one side to free the other side and remove it. Wash it like you wash dishes, dry and put back in.

With the microwave, like a multi purpose spray bottle cleaner should work. Remove the spinning place and the wheels and wash those like you do the dishes. Spray the microwave and wipe down. Return the innards of the microwave and put it back in place.

With the frisge, remove all your food. The shelves should be removable so you want to remove them and once again clean them like you do the dishes. Whilst those are drying in the drying rack, get your multi purpose spray cleaner and spreay the sides, bottom and cieling of your fridge, and wipe it down. Then replace all the shelves and put your food back. If you have a minifridge with a built in freezer, you will need to defrost the freezer, do this step before putting the shelves back. To do this you want to turn your firdge off, get hot water and pour it in to melt the ice. Then use something like an old ID to leverage the ice off of the surfaces. Repeat till all the ice comes off. Does help to have a big bowl to chuck the ice into before putting it in the sink to melt. Dry off everything and then wipe it down with spray and then put everything back in.

Skirting boards get dusty often. Grab a wet rag or dust sponge from scrub daddy, wet it, and wipe the skirting boards. If they are particularly bad, before doing this, most vaccuums come with a presicion nozzle which you replace the head with. Use this then wipe down with a wet cloth.

Shower curtains are often neglected. Remove the plastic curtain from the rail gently. Remove any hooks or rings, so they don’t get caught in the rinse cycle. Add mild detergent, baking soda, and vinegar to the washing machine. Start a 15-minute cycle in gentle settings. Once done, drain the excess water and let the curtain dry in the fresh air and then put back.

Weekly tasks: Shower Bathroom sink + mirror Toilet Surfaces Floors

The shower is pretty simple. There are two ways to do it. The first is the most basic which is get some shower cleaner and a sponge like a scrub daddy. Spray the shower cleaner on the walls and floor of the shower, and if it has a shower dome, the inside of that too. Let it sit for a few minutes then wipe it down. The second way cleans it much better in my experience. Still do the same as above, but before it, use some dish soap and a cloth and clean it that way. It just helps get rid of the grime whilst the shower cleaner kills the bacteria. The after that, spray the shower head (all sides), the tap, and the outside of your shampoo and wipe with a damp cloth. Mold loves the outside of your shower products so that step is very important. Then remove the drain if possible, bring it to the sink and remove any caught hairs and flush those down the loo. Rinse and then spray with shower cleaner and wipe and then put back. Turn the shower on to rinse off the cleaning product.

If you have a glass door, spray with glass cleaner and wipe. Do also have a squeegee to wipe down after every shower to prevent marks on the door.

If you have a shower curtain, refer to monthly cleaning.

Sinks are pretty easy too. Just spray with bathroom cleaner, just the all purpose spray, wipe and you are done. Make sure to do the taps, the visable part of the drain and around the overflow hole. With the mirror, spray with glass cleaner and wipe with a paper towel to prevent streaks.

Toilet is simple too. all bathroom stuff is simple. Spray both sides of the lid and seat and wipe. Spray the top and outside of the bowl and wipe. Also spray and wipe the back of the bowl which is hard to get to. Get toiley clearner and put it in the bowl. Get a toiley brish and scrub the inside. Once done, hold the brush near where the water comes from and flush to rinse. Then to let the brush dry, hold it over the bowl so the brush is hovering overe the toilet and the handle is sticking out paralell to the ground, then put the toilet seat down to hold it in place. Let it dry for a few minutes before removing and putting it back in its holder.

Surfaces - you gotta dust your surfaces and polish any wood ones. Get a damp duster for featehr duster and sweep it on your surfaces. I reccomend this step before floors so you can vaccum the dust now on the floor. If you have wood surfaces that arent cheap plywood, get some wood polish and a designated microfiber cloth, spray onto your cloth and wipe your wood surfaces with it.

Floors - Vaccuum all floors, including tile, wood, inyl, lino, etc. Then on non carpet floors, get a brush. I personally use the brush attachment on my steam cleaner, but a nail brush is good if you have small areas of non carpet floors as it is very comfortable to hold, or a designated sweeping brush works if you have large areas of non carpet. Get some dishsoap and some warm water, scrub your floors and then get a bucket of water and a mop, and mop up the water on the floor. Please note that if you live in a studio apartment, you may have to vaccuum more than once a week. You track in x amount of dirt each day and have Y amount of space. X amount of dirt will stay the same regardless of how much space (Y) there is. If space (Y) is small, the first is more noticable as there is less room for it to be spreadout.

Daily tasks: Dishes Kitchen surfaces Nightly reset/General surfaces

Try to do your dishes daily. You don't need to do every single dish you use every day, but there is nothing like waking up to no dishes to do. You gotta do them eventually, why not do them each day than be forced to do them when you have no clean dishes left. You should be scraping off your plates over the bin and then rinsing them under the tap before hand washing then or putting them in the dishwasher. This helps keep your sink clean and just makes the plates easier to clean for both you and your dishwasher if you have one.

Kitchen surfaces refers to your bentops, stove AND sink. Wipe alldown after evry use with general purpose kitchen sprace and a cloth. If you do this every day, your kitchen bench and sink never get dirty enough to warrant a weekly clean.

This last bit helps if you are like me and "I forgor" a lot. I often will use something, go "i will put that away once I do this other thing" and forget. Every night, make sure to put things where they belong either on a shelf, in a draw, lined up on a table, in the bin, etc.

Other tips

Moistruize your hands after using cleaning products. They can dry out your hands.

Motivation to clean can be hard. Find a chore you can do like dust, or do your laundry to get you into the cleaning mood aka in the headspace to do related tasks to the task you start with. Even promising yourself that you will just do one small task and stop if you don't want to do anymore can help with motivation. For me, doing the laundry makes me wanna clean the rest of the apartment. And vacuuming takes me like 5m to do as i live in a studio so doing that help me go "well i just vaccuumed so I might as well do the shower. I did the shower so I might as well do the sink, etc". This works for me and might not for you and is fine. Finding something whiuch does helps greatly.

Figure out if you are a split the weekly chore between days person or a do it all in one day person. If you suffer with chronic pain or in general, splitting things up can help. So monday you do the shower, tuesday the sink and toilet, wednesday the vacuuming, etc. I myself am a do it all in one go type of person, so I clean on Sunday as it is the end of the week here and in my mind, starting the week with a clean apartment sounds nice.

Cover your food in the microwave. Not everyone does this, which is weird to me as my mum was anal about this growing up. But put a paper towel over your bowl or plate to catch the splatters your food creates when the liquid gets hot and explodes into steam. That sounds far more intense than what actually happens as it happens on a very small scale, but covering your food helps there not be stuck on food in your microwave.

[st6rrrs]

YOUR BEST FRIENDS BROTHER - RAFE CAMERON X FEMALE READER

SUMMARY: for the longest you had an crush on rafe cameron aka Sarah's brother but you couldn't date your best friends brother and besides he didn't notice you anyway... well until one night

WARNINGS: 18+, age gap, smut, non con/dub con?, dark! rafe, swearing, choking, hair pulling, dom!rafe, virgin reader, lost of virginity, rough sex, fingering, unexperienced reader, lmk if i’m missing anything

A/N: rafe is 21 reader is 16 btww!!!

also this is short

Sarah had invited you over so you guys could hang out and watch movies. Sarah's dad, stepmom, and little sister had to go to the Bahamas for her dads work for the weekend. Sarah and rafe didn't have to go so they stayed.

rafe has never been nice to you like ever. he always calls you names like bitch, slut, virgin mary, whore, slut , etc. so you can say he isn't very fond of you.

"so what are we gonna watch?" Sarah ask "maybe comedy?"

"nah I like horror better"

"but im in an mood to laugh" Sarah explained

"okay then what about a horror comedy" you secretly loved horror comedies more than horror but you would never attempt that.

"oh yeaa" Sarah said as you laughed at her

"im gonna go get the snacks i'll be right back"

you said while hopping off her bed and exiting the room. as you walked down the stairs you heard something coming from rafe's room so being the nosy person you are you walk back up the stairs and slowly tip toe to his room door and you put your ear to the door.

you hear moaning and groaning you were scared you thought he was hurt so you quickly opened the door concerned and you see rafe laying down on his bed jerking off. he quickly pulls the covers over him

"what the fuck yn get out" rafe yells

You were shocked you quickly shut the door and ran down stairs, what the hell did you just witness. you tried to get the imagine of rafe's long cock out of your head. You opened the cabinet too look for the popcorn when you felt a strong hand grip your shoulder spinning you around.

"you know its not lady like to enter somebody's room without knocking"

it was rafe, he seemed overly calm... weird.

''i-i thought you w-were hurt."

he laughs slowly and looks you up and down. you take a deep breath to calm yourself down

"you might be a virgin but i know your not stupid princess"

he smirks

"wait..." "was my dick the first one you ever seen before"

he smirks once again, you were too embarrassed to answer that question so you looked down to the floor.

he grabbed your face really hard probably bruising it forcing you too look him in the eye.

"answer. the. question." rafe said "i don't like being ignored y/n."

he looked angry. you were scared to find out what would happen if u didn't answer his question so u did.

"y-yes" you stuttered

he chuckles and lets go oh your face which is most likely bruised now

"holy shit"

"rafe just fuck off okay jeez. every time you see me you don't have to remind me that im still a virgin."

you say as you turn around and grab the popcorn and putting it in the microwave. thats when feel something pocking your lower back.

"no ew rafe stop" you move away from him

"fine, fine"

he says putting his hands up in the air like he's surrendering and walking back up the stairs to his room.

you sigh of relief and grab the popcorn out of the microwave, pour it in a bowl and go back up stairs to Sarah's room.

"hey im back i got popcorn"

"finally you took forever" she laughs

"yea umm your brother wouldn't leave me only."

"just ignore him he's an ass to everyone" sarah says while shrugging

you guys ended up watching scary movie 2. after the movie yall soon fell asleep.

you woke up around midnight you looked over at Sarah she was sound a sleep so sneakily you got out of bed to get some water from the kitchen while you were walking down the stairs you felt a large hand wrap around your figure and put a hand over your mouth so you wouldn't scream.

it was rafe.

"stop moving"

he whispered in your ear but you still tried to wiggle your way out of his grip. he drags you to his room and throws you on the floor locking the door.

"oww what the fuck is wrong with you"

you say almost immediately getting up running over to rafe to try and unlock the door but before you can reach it he grabs you by your hair

"i told you to stop moving" "i don't like disobedience"

"oww rafe stop your hurting me"

he throws you onto the bed back first and pulls off your shorts and underwear and gets onto of you. you tried to scream but he puts his hand over your mouth.

he takes his time pulling your tank top and bra off. you tried to scream but it was muffled due to rafe's hand. Once your tank top and bra is off he started sucking your right nipple.

you didn't want this.

you tried to tell yourself over and over again but you knew it was a lie, what kind of best friend would you be hooking up with your best friends brother.

you moaned, you couldn't help it. but you still tried to wiggle out from under him.

he stopped to take his belt off, pants, and boxers then threw them on the floor using both of his hands so you finally had an chance to say something.

"rafe stop please" you begged "Sarah wouldn’t like this.”

"i don't give a shit yn, ill do whatever the fuck i want to you and you cant do anything about it"

"rafe please stop” you pleaded

"i'll be gentle" he said sarcastically

at this point you were straight up sobbing pleading him to stop but you knew it was too late when he felt the head of his cock at your entrance.

he pushed himself into you and he wasn't gentle at all he started thrusting into you at a very fast speed.

it wasn't pleasant at all it hurt like hell, he was painfully stretching you out. it was very overwhelming

“God, your so tight.” Rafe grunts, slamming into you at a rate that will leave you sore for days.

You moaned and screamed tears coming out you eyes as he kept going faster and harder.

“Be good and take me.”

As he worked you closer and closer to the end, he squeezed your neck chocking you.

he never let up on his speed or brutality

You finished around him hard and heavy, your limbs becoming pathetically weak.

As you came down from your high His hands tightened around your neck harder as he fucked himself into you, harder and harder, until he was coming, too.

part 2 ?

[yan-randomfandom]

.GIFfany x Game Dev!GN!Reader

My final love letter for the gravity falls fandom <3 Thank you everyone for the happiness you gave me!! Your unanswered asks are still safe with me, dw! Randomly, someday, I'll go back to them (they're all lovely ideas,, actually hurts to leave)

for now, i'll be seeing you in other fandoms (⁠ ⁠ꈍ⁠ᴗ⁠ꈍ⁠)

I won't be giving warnings here but it's .GIFfany, an actual yandere from GF. Happy Halloween folks !!

💌 ; this a lil cringe guys 😭😭

"Aren't you a game developer?! Then get rid of this! You have to destroy it!"

You sigh for the umpteenth time, rubbing the area between your eyebrows. This man randomly came into your house, claiming that the game disc he's holding is alive. How are you supposed to react in this situation?

"Like I said, I can't do anything to a disc—"

The guy scoffs, abruptly shoving the disc into your chest. "I don't care. You clearly don't believe me. Just get this away from me, and I'll leave!"

It's not like he's giving you much of a choice. Your hold on the disc tightens as you watch him finally run away from your house. What an asshole. With furrowed eyebrows, you slam your door shut.

A huff escapes your chest. You take a proper look at the game... An anime girl dating simulator? Seriously? He harrassed you over this?

"... anthyding can hadplen."

Okay... the common typo in translations.

You were being genuine when you said you can't do anything to a disc. The source code is long gone for this one, you assume. You don't think the company that made this game even exists anymore.

If that bastard really wants to destroy this game, he should’ve burned it or something. You guess you’ll give him a break; he did go through the trouble of finding a game developer like you.

"Oh, hi there! My name is .GIFfany. I'm a schoolgirl at School University."

Her voice snaps you back to reality.

... And the reality? You're playing a dating sim in a dark room. Nice.

You look at her eyes, an unsettling knot forming in the pit of your stomach. Simply, you ignore it.

"At least the art is pretty," you mutter, then pause. Hey, is it just you, or did her eyes get brighter? Whatever. Must be the animation.

Oh, well. Time to find out what's so dangerous about this game. You shake your head, feeling ridiculous, and move your mouse to continue playing.

...

Nothing happened.

It's just your basic dating simulator with cliché storylines. You've been playing for hours, even finishing one romantic route, yet nothing has happened. The clock reads 1:54 AM. So much for being such a dangerous game.

You exit the game, unplug the computer, and head straight to bed. Drowsiness has been bothering you throughout the whole gameplay, so now you're going to give in to it.

Eventually, gentle snores escapes your sleeping figure.

... Something in your dark room lights up.

The sprite merely stares at you as you sleep.

— ♡♡♡ —

Buzz.

Buzz.

Buzz.

You groan, your hand aimlessly searching for your vibrating phone in the dark. It takes you a moment, but when you finally have it in your hands, your eyes flutter from the sudden light.

Quickly, you shut off your alarm. Ugh.

Your phone turns black again, and you're left lying in the darkness... only for your backup alarm to ring again.

"Fine!" you force yourself to sit up, obnoxiously groggy.

After your usual routine, you turn on the kitchen light, unaware that it lit up a second before you even pressed the switch.

You reach for the leftovers in the fridge, heating them in an unplugged microwave.

The cold meal spins round and round.

A pop of noise springs up behind you. You turn, smiling, to find toasted bread from the unplugged toaster.

Checking the time, the clock reads 7:40 AM. You have a meeting in about fifty minutes.

— ♡♡♡ 01100100 01101111 01101110 01110100 00100000 01101100 01100101 01100001 01110110 01100101 00100000 01100111 01110010 01100001 01110110 01101001 01110100 01111001 00100000 01100110 01100001 01101100 01101100 01110011 ♡♡♡ —

"—Because of this, we'll be changing our schedule."

Humming, you prepare your virtual document for live notes. Keyboard clacks sound through the air, following just after your director's voice.

... A familiar, upbeat tune abruptly plays.

You glance down at your taskbar on the computer screen. The game application, Romance Academy, has somehow opened by itself.

A confused eyebrow raises. Maybe there's something you missed in the settings. Either way, you right-click the icon and close the game without a second thought.

Time ticks by.

"We currently have plans for a new mode, and testing with the coders will follow in—"

You gasp in surprise as the game music blares again, this time much, much louder. It vibrates against your ears at full volume, and one of your hands shoots up to cover an ear.

"The hell," you murmur, your brows furrowing as you hastily close the game.

"In line with this, we're also considering a Halloween event for us indie volunteers!—"

Shit!

It’s so loud! Romance Academy forces its way to the front of your screen, no longer hidden behind the other windows. Did that guy somehow give you a virus?? This is way too distracting!

You move your cursor the exit button, clicking it rapidly.

... There's no use. The app just won't close.

Suddenly, you can't hear your director's voice anymore. Or anyone, for that matter; your whole room cloaks in silence.

...

One by one, the apps close.

The dating simulator remains open, the last one standing.

A frown pulls your lips. Yeah, no.

You stand up, ready to unplug your computer, but horror washes over your face as you realize it’s already fucking unplugged.

Ha.

Hahahaha.

You make it a point to unplug everything you use to save on your bills, and for the environment.

“Hahahaha. Cute. You're so cute.”

You stare at the animation on the screen.

This is beyond your comprehension. That guy isn't insane, after all.

You have to leave.

“My dear Reader.”

Grabbing your bag, you scurry out from the room.

The house is bright. It's morning.

“I know you're reading my words."

You open the front door.

The cold air whips against your face.

“You read this for me, did you not?"

You walk away from your house.

Every step gradually becomes faster.

Who can you even call for a situation like this? Surely not the cops.

“And don't ever stop reading! If you do, you'll leave me."

“You're here because you love me. Why else? I love you too!"

Don't stop reading.

You'd be leaving me if you stop.

Let me constantly be on your mind, okay?

Read this as much as you can for the rest of your life.

Even if you get sick of it.

“Because I'd never get sick of you, darling!"

“Oh, my lovely reader, I hope every time you read Gravity Falls, you think of me. Me. Me. Me.”

I can feel the story ending. That won't do.

— ♡♡♡ —

"Aren't you a game developer? Then try this! I hear it's amazing!"

You smile for the umpteenth time today. This man randomly came into your house, claiming that the game disc he's holding is amazing. He's giving it away for free, too! Who are you to reject such an offer?

"Alright, if you insist—"

The guy laughs, excitedly giving you the disc. "Have fun, mate!"

Your hold on the disc tightens as you watch him skip away from your house. What a great guy. With a giddy grin, you close your front door.

A chuckle escapes your chest. You take a proper look at the game... An anime girl dating simulator? How adorable! 01100100 01101111 01101110 01110100 00100000 01100110 01101111 01110010 01100111 01100101 01110100 00100000 01101101 01100101 00100000 01100100 01101111 01101110 01110100 00100000 01101100 01100101 01100001 01110110 01100101 00100000 01101101 01100101 00100000 01100100 01101111 01101110 01110100 00100000 01100111 01101111 00100000 01100100 01101111 01101110 01110100

“01001001 00100000 01001111 01001110 01001100 01011001 00100000 01010111 01000001 01001110 01010100 00100000 01010100 01001111 00100000 01000010 01000101 00100000 01001000 01000001 01010000 01010000 01011001.”