#the two people above are trying *so so hard* not come out and directly say

[gen-is-gone]

this is why everyone hates atheists, btw

Was reading on wikipedia about how lots of ancient cultures had beliefs and traditions where you had to offer prayers and/or sacrifices if you wanted to cut down a tree because you were basically killing the spirit that lived within the tree and if you did that without good reason bad stuff would happen to you

we should bring that back. if you want to clear cut a forest you have to pray and sacrifice on behalf of every single tree

[em1989ts]

𝒂𝒄𝒓𝒐𝒔𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒖𝒏𝒊𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒆 𝒑𝒕. 3

five hargreeves x reader

word count: 2.4k

part one. part two. part three.

summary: you head back to the academy with your timeline's five in order to save the world, in hopes that once this is all over, you can run back to max's delicatessan.

author's note: i tried to post this on oct 1st for five's birthday but i'm an hour late lol. but that's it for across the universe! thank you to everyone who left a comment or reblogged i appreciate it so much :) please let me know some more fic ideas in the comments or in my inbox

You heard the bell reverberate as the door shut firmly behind you, yet it was still welcoming as you looked back through the deli windows as all the Fives waved you farewell. 

The Five that was still technically your husband held a harsh grip around your wrist as he pulled you away from the warm lighting of the deli and back into the cool chill of the time-traveling subway station. 

Once the two of you reached the top of the stairs onto the platform, you dug your nails and bitterly as possible into the veiny flesh of his hand. 

He grabbed your other hand to separate your sharp manicure from him. You snatched your hands back and took a step away from him with a sneer. 

He looked down at you as if you were an animal cowering in defense. He sighed with a heavy chest, weighed with guilt, as he said, “Look, I don’t want to upset you anymore than I already have. Can we save the world and then discuss this?” 

As you glared at him, a subway train pulled into the station, whirring loudly as its strong gust blew your hair past your face. It screeched horrendously as it halted, the door alighting with your stances. 

You simply nodded with a furrowed brow as you walked past, hitting him with your shoulder, and boarding the subway car. 

As you sat down with folded arms and a firm stare at the floor, you ignored him as he sat directly across from you, holding his face in his hands. 

He took the time to memorize your face, this time in the privacy of the train car rather than watching a more deserving Five hold you close. 

He wanted to save the world for you. So you could be happy. Yet there was a lingering part of him that wished the world would cease to exist, knowing there was no chance you’d be happy with him ever again. 

You felt his gaze on you burning your cheeks. It felt like ages since he had looked at you with such care. 

You had always known how much he loved you. Even though public displays of affection were quite rare he had always made you feel seen and heard. You were life partners. You did everything together, you shared everything with the other. You thought you were so lucky to find such a soulmate, believing the two of you being the only people in the world left alive was such a test of fate that there wasn’t a doubt in the universe your names were written in the stars. 

You were so sure. So confident and secure. 

Yet, you were also sure he would’ve never considered breaking your heart the way he did today. He would’ve never considered Lila of all people. 

Your head throbbed from the confusion and the flickering lights from above. You were so tired from dealing with the Cleanse, Reginald, Jean and Gene. You wondered if you’d ever catch a break. 

You thought you already had. Six years of domestic bliss which included sharing an apartment with your lover and frequent date nights. You thought you finally got the rest you both deserved after years of endless struggle for survival. 

You let out a breath you didn’t realize was trapped in your lungs as you sat up straight and met his stare. 

He didn’t say a word so you decided to speak the only one that was on your mind. 

“Why?” 

His jaw tensed as he tried to find the words. He had been trying to justify himself to you in his head ever since the moment he kissed Lila in that greenhouse, yet now it was hard for him to come up with an explanation. 

After a moment, he spoke, “I didn’t think we’d make it back.” 

Your eyes narrowed, “You were gone for 7 years Five. You mean to tell me you just gave up?” 

“I,” he cut himself off, not wanting to admit his first instinct of a response. 

“You what?” you pressured. 

“I wanted to stay.” 

He looked down at the grimy floor which contrasted with the shine of his dress shoes. You felt as if barbed wire was slowly being pulled around your throat as you held back tears. He didn’t seriously just admit that to your face. He couldn’t have. The Five you grew old with would never have done this to you. After visiting the deli, you knew those Five’s had given up on their timelines, but their reason was that they lost you. They lost their spark that ignited their call to action. They lost their love, the one person who kept them strong enough to endure hell just to save the world for. 

You were speechless. 

Luckily the train slowly came to a screeching stop at your timeline. An unintelligible announcement was made in the overhead speakers as you rushed to stand up and make your way out the train. 

Your Five didn’t immediately follow you. He hung his head and sat for a few seconds before slipping through the closing doors. 

You quickly made your way through the dimly lit station as Five jogged to catch up with you. He took your arm and blinked you up both to the academy in a flash of pink light. 

He let go of your arm as you took a pause to calm your dizziness. You had gotten used to his old blink fairly quickly but this new power messed with your head which already suffered an ache. 

The group quickly acknowledged your presence as the two of you walked into the living room where they were all consulting with each other. Lila’s family and Claire were huddled closeby. 

Five immediately greets Lila as she whispers his name in return. You side-eye them with a scoff, hoping to get this done as soon as possible so you never have to see them again. 

With his hands on his hips, Luther says, “Why’d you two come back? Things are pretty bleak here.” 

“Trust me, we weren’t planning on it,” Five explains. 

You step in, “Fortunately, we had a very informative conversation with an alternate version of him which led us to form a plan that could stop all of this.” 

You began explaining everything to them. You told them that the marigold inside each of you was what caused the destruction of the timeline and how the timelines were bleeding into each other which provided evidence for those like Jean and Gene to believe in the Umbrella effect. You explained that if Viktor could remove the marigold from you all and combine it with the durango inside the Cleanse, the timeline would go back to its original, unbroken state. 

Viktor interrupted your explanation, “That would work, but I’m not entirely sure I have enough power to do that.” 

“I can help,” Lila stepped in, “I’ll copy your power.” 

“What happens if they can’t get the marigolds out of us?” Klaus questioned.

“We will have to merge with the Cleanse with the marigold still inside us,” Five paused before continuing, “which will make us cease to exist.” 

Klaus didn’t exactly like this answer as he responded, “Old Klaus might have been down for some recreational hara-kiri, but it turns out that I’m really not into killing myself.” 

Five explained that if Viktor didn’t remove our marigold and you all had to merge with the Cleanse then none of you would have ever existed, erasing you all from history and the memories of your loved ones. 

They group went silent, tearing up at the thought of that fate. 

“Okay,” Viktor said firmly, not wanting to think about that outcome, “Let’s do this before the Cleanse finds us.” 

Him and Lila met in the center of the room, chests and eyes glowing as they brought forth their powers. The rest of you met around them, preparing yourself for the extraction. 

A glow of orange and blue lights illuminated the room as they began to swirl around all of you, whirring by your ears as they surrounded your body. You could feel the power rushing through you, feeling similarly to doing a cannonball in a hot tub: an initial burn from the impact but soothing more and more as you relax. Your eyes were squeezed tight as you felt a pressure lift from your chest. Before you know it, the wind has stopped and the lights that shined past your eyelids had left, returning your sight to eigengrau. 

You opened your eyes to find your marigolds huddled together, swirling in a warm glow which resembled fireflies on a summer night. 

“What do we do now?” Luther let out. 

Five put his hands in his pockets as he responded, “We wait.” 

Everyone avoided contact with the marigolds as they left the living room. Allison returned to Claire and Lila made her way to her family who engulfed her in a loving hug. 

You watched them have their moments. You were glad Lila had such a loving family after living under the Handler’s manipulation for so long, yet you wondered how it would be now that Five had homewrecked her relationship with Diego. How would this situation affect their kids? Would they see their mom any differently? 

You didn’t realize someone was watching you as you contemplated your inner monologue until your shoulders were turned and a pair of arms were wrapped around you. You refocused your eyes as you looked up to see Diego, understanding he must feel the same pain, wondering what would become of the family he’s made over the last six years. You brought your arms up to return his hug as your squeezed your eyes shut as a dam to not allow any tears to pass through. 

A crumbling noise grew louder and louder as you two broke apart. An orange hue penetrated through the makeshift curtains as Klaus went up to the window to peel them back, allowing you all to see the Cleanse was destructively making its way towards the marigolds. 

Five’s face hardened as he watched the monster grow nearer. He turned to Lila and held her arms, instructing her to take her family and Claire into the subway until the Cleanse took the marigolds to ensure their safety. She looked into his eyes and nodded before breaking away to round everyone up and mimic his power, blinking them away. 

The rest of you took cover as the Cleanse broke through the windows and entered the academy. You watched as it reached out and collected the bundle of marigolds, letting out a fearsome screech and glowing brighter. The light became so intense it was all you could see until you blacked out. 

You awoke on the floor of the academy, your face sticking to the shining tiles. As you sat up, you noticed everything was pristine, unlike the abandoned academy you were just occupying. Sunlight shone through the windows as you looked around, noticing all the others adjusting to the light and new surroundings. You all looked around, thankfully seeing no sign of the Cleanse. No destruction. No glow. 

As you all stood up, Five rounded you together as he blinked everyone into the subway. 

Allison immediately ran over to Claire, crying happily as she held her daughter. Lila and her children ran over to Diego, tackling him with a loving hug. You saw Five in the corner of your eye, looking on at the scene with a stone face yet with hurt in his eyes. 

As the family regrouped, you remembered what the offer that waited for you back at the deli. You remembered the Five who was waiting for you to save the world so he could see you once again. You ran between Klaus and Luther as you made your way towards a train that was waiting to take you back to Max’s Delicatessen. You never looked back as you boarded and sat down. Surely you’d see them again, but you didn’t want to watch your Five look like a lost puppy following Lila any longer. 

You wanted to find a certain Five that reminded you of your husband before he got stuck in the subway. A Five who had his eye on your and only you. Luckily, you had already found one. 

You didn’t even wait for the train to fully come to a stop as you jumped up from your seat and anxiously waited in front of the door for it to open. Once it did you bolted through the station to the stairwell that led to the deli. As you ascended, you didn’t see the warm, welcoming glow. 

You stopped in front of the deli, dropping your shoulders as you lost all hope. 

The space where the deli once occupied was gone. In its place was a wall of tile. You finally let the tears you had been holding all day stream down your face as you realized your mistake. 

Saving the world meant saving the original timeline, the timeline where the only Five Hargreeves that exists is the one that broke your heart.

☕︎

bonus ending cause i can: 

You dropped to your knees as the weight of everything that’s happened crashed upon you, and the fear of not knowing what to do next ate up rational. 

A whoosh was heard from behind you, echoing off the tile surrounding you. The last thing you wanted at this moment was the comfort of your Five. You didn’t want him anywhere near you, yet you wanted him to see how miserable his stupid delusions and actions made you. As you turned your face to look at him with a teary face, you saw Five standing there, making no move toward you. 

You wanted to berate him until you looked closer, there was something different about him. 

You couldn’t point it out until he smiled slightly and said, “You saved the world.” 

A look of shock painted your face until your tears flooded back, this time of utter happiness as you ran into his chest, his arms enveloping you, his chin on your head. You didn’t question how this could even be possible, what this meant for the timeline, you got just what you wanted.

☕︎

author's note: oh my god i cannot believe i wrote this in one day i'm so exhausted and haven't had time to proof read this yet but i really really hope you enjoy! my inbox is open please let me know any requests for future stories!

taglist: @madscamp02@buttermilkpetals@leitor-sonolento@ren-ren23@alavit@tofueater78 @buzzbuzzlilbee @clownwritesfanfic @beanzwritez @pholuvre

[jo-com]

can you write a story about how Alex, Charles and reader meet. Maybe she’s friends with someone in their friend group and when a,c and reader meet, a+c almost have love at first sight

🫶🏻🫶🏻

🎀 ⊹˚. ♡ ➛ Whipped

Charles Leclerc x Fem!reader x Alexandra Saint Mleux

Summary: Based off the request above!!

Genre: Throuple, Fluff

Note: Thanks for requesting and sorry if i only made it now😭 there are some grammatical errors here.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ➛ My Masterlist

─────── ─ ˙✧˖°📷 ⋆｡˚─ ───────

The loud clink of utensils echoed around the group that mixed well with the faint sounds of people conversing with one another.

Laughter and playful banters were exchanged from the table of friends— one of them telling a joke that caused them to smile from ear to ear.

It was one of those nights where friends gather and boost about the things that happened to them; it was like their very own ritual to catch up every once in a while, but this time it was different.

There was another addition to the group.

….

“Ah, look whose here. Come y/n take a sit,” one of the girl asked, patting the empty seat besides her.

Y/n happily took the seat and smiled thankfully at her kind gesture. You were kinda nervous, seeing that you don’t know who half the table were, but it was nice to have new friends.

So you took the time to get to know each and every one of them.

While you we’re having a conversation with one girl at the group— two pair of eyes seemed to never left yours.

As if you were the only thing that seem to caught their attention; not even caring if one of their friends are trying to start a discussion with them.

Everything about you were just too mesmerizing— your eyes, your smile, and those laughs that sounds so angelic when it comes out of that pretty mouth of yours.

“Elle est si jolie (she is so pretty)” Alex whispered under her breath, that was loud enough for only she and Charles could hear.

“Je sais, je ne peux pas non plus la quitter des yeux (i know, I can’t take my eyes of her too)” Charles responded, his tone just screams ‘boy inlove’.

Don’t get me wrong, they’re happy with just the two of them, but you just make it so hard to not fall in love with you. I mean come on just look at you! You were built to perfection. God Is this what they call love at first sight?

If it were, then damn. They sure are whipped for you.

…

➛Message (Alex and Charles)

…

“Charles and Alex, you guys have been awfully quite for a while now” Bea exclaimed aloud, earning all the group’s attention to focus on them.

Including yours.

You flickered your eyes and glanced over at them. You’ve noticed their presence for a while now and just like the others you were star struck with their appearance. They were the epitome of luxury and elegance— they give of an aura that just seems so hard to approach them;

“Ah, sorry. Something just came up” charles spoke, his tone laced with sincerity.

As he said those word, his eyes met yours. It felt like he was directly saying it to you. But that’s just silly, imagine the Charles Leclerc saying those to you. Pfft hilarious.

“Oui, quelque chose de beau vient d'attirer notre attention (yes,something beautiful just caught our eye)” Alex spoke, her thick accent dripped with gracefulness.

Just like Charles, her words seems directed towards you. Her eyes latched onto yours— captivating the essence of your beauty.

You looked around, checking if she was looking at anyone else. To your surprise, there were no people at your back. You glanced back but she was no longer staring at you.

Hmm must be a coincidence.

…

Throughout the night, their eyes stared daggers at your direction— watching you like a hawk.

You could feel the burning gazes that came from them but just shrugged it off as a ‘must be someone at my back’ feeling.

…

“This was so much fun guys, i hope we could do this again soon”. One of your friends spat, smiling genuinely at all of you.

The night has finally come to an end; even though you felt all eyes on you every time, you still had fun.

All of your friends gathered their stuff and one by one began to leave the place. Saying all their goodbyes before finally taking off. Just as you were about too, two figure stood in your way.

You furrowed your eyebrows, confusingly. What’s going on?

“Uhm can i help you guys?” You asked, looking at them with pure curiosity.

Alex opened her mouth but then closed it again, she gently nudged Charles shoulder implying for him to speak up.

What the hell was going on, they look like high schoolers whose ready to confess.

Charles rolled his eyes and sighed,“Well, this is kinda awkward but me and my girlfriend were kinda hoping to get your number.”

Oh. So it was a confession kinda thing?

Your eyes widened from the sudden question, “but if you don’t want to it’s fine” Alex chimed in, her face turning red from the tense atmosphere.

You let out a giggle, seeing how their acting like teenagers inlove was just so adorable to you. So why not invest your time in these two cutesy couple.

“Here” you said, getting out your phone and showing them your number to which they wrote down.

…

After that day you guys continued messaging each other back and forth— creating a strong bond between the couple.

And eventually you guys were officially a couple, all three of you.

You were glad you came to that gathering.

…

Sorry for not updating in a while, hope you guys like this tough!!

[roll-for-gaslight]

While I think Sklonda is right to be critical of the Bad Kids and specifically Kristen, I think that a lot of the reason she did so is that she was missing a lot of context the other parents were given. We see in Freshman Year that she’s often given the information about their quests from Riz, several hours after the fact, and he shares clues with her rather than personal things. He doesn’t think the personal bits are what she cares about because, for him, that’s not the problem being solved. He’s happy with his friends and she only really would hear if one of them caused a problem. Her apartment isn’t a hangout like Seacaster Manor, Mordred Manor, the Thistlespring Tree, or even Gilear’s season one apartment were. By the nature of her being a single working mother in a difficult financial situation, she often was left out of extracurricular activities.

For example, Mordred is obviously a place filled with a lot of activity, and plenty of kids to give updates on said activity if something slips through the cracks of someone’s retelling. If Adaine leaves out a personal moment because she’s focused on the case, Fig or Kristen or even Ragh could fill in that blank, plus the fact that the other BKs spend a lot of time there means that Sandralynn, Jawbone, and Lydia are usually getting every side of every story. The Thistlespring Tree is where the Bad Kids go not just because it’s a nice place to spend time, but because it’s often directly tied into a plot or subplot! The power source in season one, the satellite in season two, and Gorgug’s artificer journey + the whole Frosty Faire thing going on now! Besides that, the Thistlesprings have raised Gorgug in a way that encourages open channels of communication about his emotions above all else, so he tells them what’s going on! Fabian’s parents over at Seacaster Manor haven’t been involved so much this season, but Bill Seacaster saw their bond from the start and taught them how to take care of each other and fight as a group, and Gilear has always been heavily involved in their adventures because all of the BKs have been emotionally invested in him as well!

Aside from that, she’s missing the context of actually being able to attend their quests like some other parents/guardians were able to in Sophomore Year! Gilear and Cathilda and Sandralynn all know things like the fact that everyone was worried about Riz and called him their little angel when he was gone and that Kristen saved him almost at the expense of her own life in the Nightmare King’s forest. She never sees them together, the way they’ll risk everything for each other when the chips are down, the way they all show they care in little ways all the time ( like Fig giving him the card or Fabian’s gifts in Freshman Year). She doesn’t understand that while “the Ball” may have come from a bully on the first day of school, it turned into a term of endearment! She doesn’t see how hard they’ve been trying this year to pass their classes and such, not because it matters to them, but because they know it’s important to Riz. He never even explained the whole needing scholarships thing to them! He showed up with folders on the first day, stressed out of his mind about all of them passing together, and basically decided to get their shit together! Sure, it took Kristen and Fig a little while to do it, but that’s because they were struggling to build better habits!

I also understand how she could think Riz does all of the heavy lifting: when he presents the clues to her and he’s their lead investigator, do you think she assumed other people did the finding? Absolutely not! She doesn’t see the way they put things together by focusing on their individual strengths; she only sees Riz trying to put it all together and find the connections. Why would she know that a lot of the investigative work was done by Adaine and Kristen in sophomore year because so much of it had to do with religion? She wouldn’t!

All this to say: Sklonda is a good mom for checking in with Riz, but she also has a narrow view of things that no one else has. If she were to be exposed to the BKs more often and actually pay attention to how things work between them, I think she would be much more understanding.

[the-kr8tor]

Layover

Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader

Summary: A trip home brings something unexpected. A second chance perhaps?

Word count: 4.3k

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader (except for her clothes), cw food mentions, cw suggestive, ex! Hobie, second chance love, lovestruck! Hobie, Fluff.

A/N: Happy octobie!!

Navigation

Octobie 🎸

Buy me a ☕?

When you ran through the airport while clutching your luggage you expected disgruntled passengers from all walks of life. And when you reached the counter expecting to be checked in like usual, you didn't anticipate for your flight to be delayed because of the snow storm raging outside. You just thought that the plane could handle it, you were very wrong. With the bottoms of your jeans drenched from wading through skin biting snow, and with your luggage checked in without having the foresight to grab a pair of fresh pants beforehand; you stand in line for the complementary cup of tea that probably tastes like sink water.

Everything has gone off the rails that you started to anticipate anything, from the earth swallowing you whole to a flock of birds suddenly entering the airport and attacking and pecking at your head— but never in a million years you’d see your ex standing in the middle of the rushing crowd looking disheveled but still as handsome as ever.

“Oh,” your breath gets stuck in your throat as the bright fluorescent lights above dim in your vision, and spotlights replace it— pointing directly at him while the crowd parts for him.

In slow motion, he turns his head and you see the recognition in his eyes just as he locks eyes with you through the haze of brief unfamiliarity. His lips curl into a smirk just like how you remembered it. His piercings glow as if the sun has come out just for him, melting the ice and snow outside. His hazel eyes roam over your discombobulated expression, you must look like a fish out of water right now.

“Miss?” The vendor’s voice behind you wakes you up from your foggy thoughts. “Your order?”

“Uh…” turning around, you try to gather your words, but it seems that Hobie has taken it all from your lips. “I—”

“Earl grey, two sugars and a splash of milk.” His voice sounds close, ever closer as he sidles up next to you. When you gaze upon him, he's already looking at you with those eyes you loved. Still love. “Did I get it right?”

“Fucking hell.” You murmur, and his smile grows wider.

“Yeah, she still drinks it.” He nudges your shoulder, and you're frozen on the spot. You don't care enough to notice the barista making your drink lightning quick. “I'll take the same thing, no milk.”

“S-still lactose intolerant?” You try to sound confident even though you can feel his warmth through his jacket, it still has the same patches you lovingly sewn on it.

“I don't think they found a cure for that yet.”

“Yeah, I don't think so too.” You say in a small voice, basking in his presence. As if you two didn't amicably break up two years ago, as if you still don't long for him— or don't love him anymore. Well, you still do, but you're trying (and failing) very hard to convince him and yourself otherwise.

He grabs both of your drinks effortlessly in one hand, while the other takes you by your sleeve to pull you aside so that other people could order. Once you're parked into a corner and leaning on a pillar, (all the while not straying your eyes away from him) he gives you your drink, ringed fingers grazing your own.

“Hi, Hobie.” You finally smile, eyes twinkling from the bright lights.

“Hello, love.” His voice is low enough for you to hear, but not loud enough for other people to hear how lovestruck he is.

Your eyes are practically ogling him, he's in plaid, a long sleeve button down that you remember buying for him on a whim. Under the long sleeve is his old band shirt, the same one that you painstakingly silk printed with him and his band for hours in his houseboat. His leather jacket looks the same, save for a few new patches and stitches he mended, it practically didn't change in those two years.

He still wears all the things that remind him of you.

“You look good,” good is an understatement. He looks fucking fantastic. His hair is much longer now, and his skin still lacks worry lines as if he didn't age. There are a few more piercings than you remember, but the most glaring one is the one on his lip. It shines whenever he turns his head, and you wonder how many new piercings he may be hiding. “I see you still haven't thrown out that shirt.”

Hobie looks down, chuckling when he remembers what he's wearing. “You made this one.”

You scrunch up your nose that fades into fondness despite your thudding heart. The image of you and him sitting on the floor of his houseboat while eating take out makes you miss that life. It would be nice to hug him before bed, to tend to his wounds, to kiss him every time he goes out. To just be with him— you miss that life.

You've forgotten to take a sip from your cup, so you do to act normal. The drink warms you up just right, but with your eagerness to look somewhat normal in front of your ex, you choke on your tea.

“Oh shit,” Hobie, without thinking, like it's the most natural thing ever and still acting on instinct, pats your back. “You alright?” He chuckles at the ridiculous situation. He never thought flying back home from a gig would cause a chain reaction of him holding you again in a crowded airport. He smiles at the thought.

“You're laughing!” You cough out. All your stiffness fades away once you hear his laugh, you missed it so much. You missed him. “I'm choking here and you're laughing.” You have tears in your eyes, whether that's from choking on nothing or it's because of your longing. Either way, you must look horrible.

His palm continues to pat, and his smile never wavered, completely endeared by you. Completely in awe of you just by standing in front of him. He missed you.

“‘m not laughin’” You give him a stern look, cheeks practically in flames. “‘m not!” He briefly takes his hand off of you to grab at his water bottle peeking in between his bag zipper that's filled with numerous stickers. “‘ere, drink.”

You take the bottle from his hand as you continue to cough. He opens the lid for you before you could wheeze, and you down it immediately. Again, you've completely forgotten about your *own drink in your other hand.

“There,” he tamps down his chuckles as he sees water dribble from your chin. “Better?”

You groan, coughing out a few more times before you hand the bottle back to him. The fact that it once touched his lips flew over your head, but once the bottle was back in his hand, it hits you like a snowplow. Your stomach flips, and you panic, drinking from your hot tea again.

“Fuckin' hell, careful.” He chortles at your side eye. “Alright, choke on it, 'm ‘ere for a reason.”

You stop drinking, back leaning on the pillar, chest heaving. “Why are you here? You don't like flying.”

“I had to this time.”

“Business or pleasure?”

“What are you, airport security?” He jokes, shoulder leaning on the wall beside him, leg crossed over the other casually. That does things to you, making your palms sweaty. “Business actually, we had a gig ‘ere in Cardiff.”

You grin, “the band's here?”

“Nah, those lucky bastards took the earlier flight.” He says as he looks over to where he was standing before he walked over to you.

You furrow your brows, “oh, you're with someone?” Your heart deflated right in your chest. Is it wrong for you to feel this way when it's been two years since you last kissed him?

A ghost of a smirk briefly appears on his lips. “Nah, just me. I took a later flight so I could visit some places. Be a fuckin' tourist for once y’know?”

Your heart inflates back to life again. “That's nice, it's not everyday you get to actually fly and conquer your fears.”

He chuckles, “I wasn't that afraid.”

“You didn't want to go on that Germany trip with me because of it.” His smile wavers, and something passes by behind his eyes.

“Sorry.” You did not expect that. Today is just full of surprises isn't it? “You know I couldn't—”

“I know, Hobie.” You grab his arm without thinking, palm cradling his elbow. You give him enough time to move away, but he doesn't. “I know what I was getting into by dating a vigilante.” You whisper the last word.

“That was before anyway, now I have someone lookin' over the city while ‘m gone.” He softly smiles, eyes darting from your eyes down to your lips briefly. “‘m still grateful for you puttin’ up with my shit.”

“I think I deserve a medal for it actually.” You joke, moving to poke his side oh so casually.

“I don't know if they sell that in the shops ‘ere.”

You chortle, “you'd get me one?”

“Shit, I'd have it engraved with your name and everythin’”

The two of you continue to giggle and indulge in each other's presence. The PA system continues to echo out in the background, hundreds of shoes squeaking on the linoleum floors, and children busying themselves with their gameboys beeping above the murmured conversations of their parents. Every sound is muffled, his laugh is the only thing that you can hear, and his face is the only thing you could see under the harsh lights.

It's just you and him in the crowded place.

“Let's sit down, yeah? Our planes ain't goin’ anywhere.” He pats your shoulder, palm lingering for only a moment. Since the entire airport is packed with stranded passengers, all the seats are taken no matter how uncomfortable it is. Looking around, he bites the bottom of his lip when he doesn't see any benches or chairs left.

Your heart feels like escaping from your chest. “We can sit over there, near the window.” You point with your chin at a space big enough for the two of you.

“Good eye.” Hobie gives you his drink, and you furrow your brow in question until he bends his knees to grab your luggage and his bag. “C’mon then.”

With a small smile, you follow behind him as he carries the bags effortlessly. After weaving through the crowd, you two finally make it to the large window that displays the tarmac where planes are waiting around in the plush snow.

He sets your bag next to his own in the corner, sitting down on the carpet that is probably older than the two of you combined. Patting his side, you chuckle, cheeks warm but you still sit beside him. You're so close to him that your knees kiss his own, and you're only a hair width away from his lips when you turn to look at him.

His lips part, and you see his Adam's apple bop up and down as he swallows thickly. Your eyes glance at his lips, and you quickly look away, moving to the side even though there's not much space between you and the wall beside you.

Hobie clears his throat, smile hidden as he casually turns his head away from you. “Why are you ‘ere then?”

“Business.” You hand him his warm drink, and again, your fingers brush along his own. This time, you let your touch linger upon his own for a brief second more.

“I thought you're out ‘ere to wade through the snow.” He takes a sip from his cup, eyes flicking down towards the bottoms of your jeans where it's darker and wet from the snow.

“What?” You look down, and you immediately want to slap yourself for the blunder. “I-I forgot to grab a pair of pants before I checked in my luggage. I–it's very silly of me.”

Hobie chuckles lowly, finger absentmindedly playing with the cardboard cup sleeve. After two years, he can't believe you still have the ability to fluster him. “Tell you what, borrow my trousers, you could get sick from the cold.”

“I'm fine, Hobie. Besides, my flight's about to begin boarding any minute now.” A second after you said it, the PA system announces that your flight is delayed. Again.

Hobie laughs, “comedic timing. Just take my trouser, love.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose, laughing with him a moment later once you've recovered. You decide to tease him. “I hope you don't mean the one you're wearing right now.”

Smirking, Hobie leans closer to you, whispering in your ear. “Even though we're at an airport, that won't count as bein’ in the mile high club, lovie.”

Maybe your flight getting canceled isn't so bad after all.

“Damn, I thought it would count!”

Hobie moves away, grinning from ear to ear. “Just take my bloody trousers. I don't want a repeat of that one winter we had back home.”

“That was one time, I learned my lesson. And fine, I'll wear your pants, I've worn worse.”

“Rude.” He says with a soft smile, “it's in my bag, the biggest zipper.”

You gesture towards the bags next to you, “You want me to rummage through your things?”

“Why not? You've already seen my knickers. And me in just my knickers.”

“That's not it, Hobie.” You say like you're winded after getting the image of him in that one pair of knickers in your mind. Thanks, Hobie.

“Too much crossin’ the boundaries then? Hand it to me.” He doesn't want you to feel uncomfortable, the same reason why you had to ask him if he's sure about you rummaging through his things. You don't want him to feel uncomfortable too.

“Kind of, I'll be wearing your pants anyway so we crossed that boundary a few minutes ago.”

“What is it then?” He knits his brows, concern etched on his expression.

“It's just that— it's your stuff, maybe there's something in there that you don't want me to see.”

“Love,” he says softly, “you've seen everythin' there is to see. Nothin' changed much, ‘m not carryin’ somethin' that will make me embarrassed.” When you still don't look too sure, he twists in his seat to loom over you, you get a full display of his chest as he pulls at his bag to put it over your lap. He smells just like how you remembered. For a second there your heart stopped at the sight of him above you. “Go rummage through my shit, yeah?”

You bite your lip with a shake of your head. “I will scream if I hear something vibrating.”

Hobie's booming laughter echoes throughout the airport, rising above the PA system.

Grinning, you open the bag, there's a few shirts on top that you recognize, and a couple of jeans. But when you see something red and blue with the familiar spider logo, you clamp the zipper shut.

“You brought your suit?” You look at him, bewildered.

“Why not? You never know when a mutant lizard would appear.” He takes a swig from his cooling tea, acting nonchalant but clearly amused by your reaction.

“What if security sees it?” You whisper.

He copies your tone. “They did.” Your eyes widen. “They thought it was a costume, love.” Winking, he smiles teasingly at you.

“That makes a lot of sense actually.”

—

You look at yourself in the murky airport bathroom mirror, hands tying the strings on Hobie's pants. Its red checkered pattern catches the eye, and its soft material reminds you of his pajamas. It might be his pajamas actually. You remember all the cold nights in the houseboat cuddled next to him, with the boat rocking softly as you whisper about your day in his ear. You wish you were there right now.

You push open the creaking door, and you see Hobie waiting for you, standing nonchalantly on a pillar with yours and his bag strewn near his feet. Once he hears the door, his head perks up, and a smile appears when he sees you in his clothes.

“Lookin' bloody fit, eh?”

“Stop, I'm already embarrassed enough. I feel like a kid in kindergarten who just had an accident.”

“Well, did you?”

You make a face at him. “No, the hell?”

Hobie shrugs, “I won't judge you if you did.”

You push him lightly, palm pressed on his chest, making him laugh. “Shut up.” Looking over the space you and Hobie were sitting at, you find that it's already occupied. “We lost our seats.”

Hobie follows your gaze. “That's alright, I heard a few blokes talkin' ‘bout rentin’ a car. We could try our luck there.”

“Impromptu road trip?”

“D’you want to stay ‘ere till tomorrow?”

“No,” you sigh, “let's go.”

Hobie takes each of your bags and his own while making sure he walks in the same pace as you so he doesn't go further away and lose you in the crowd. You don't argue about carrying your own bags since you know you'll lose and he'll charm you with that smile you love. It's better not to faint in the middle of a packed airport.

You're arm to arm with him, and your instincts tell you to hold on to his arm like you used to do. You wish you could still do it, just hold him lest he gets lost in the crowd or go further away from you. He doesn't, he won't, and you know that despite the two year gap of being away from him.

You have a lot of things to tell him, and he has a lot of thoughts about you. For now, he walks close to you, wishing, hoping that the divide between the two of you will crumble the moment you hold onto him like how he remembers.

A passenger bumps into you, and you collide on Hobie's side with a quiet yelp.

He reaches for you, thumb pressing on the small of your back in an attempt to keep your balance without dropping the bags. “You alright? What a wanker.”

You gaze at him through your lashes, eyes roaming around his concerned face. “I'm okay.” He looks marvelous basking under the light.

“You sure? You look a bit peckish, love.” He guides you towards the nearest food stall, all the while avoiding people from colliding into you.

You can't tell him that you're suddenly clammy because you're absolutely awestruck and still very much in love with him. So you lie. “I can't get anything past your senses, huh?”

He chuckles, trying to ignore your quickening heartbeat in his ears. “You want a sandwich?”

You give him a lopsided smile as he drops you off to the side of the sandwich stall. “Sure, Hobie.”

“What kind?” He leaves the bags near your feet, a smile never leaving his pierced lips. “The usual?”

“You still remember that?”

“I remembered your tea order, of course I remember your usual.” He casually says, hand hidden in his pockets, hoping that you can't sense his sudden bashfulness.

“It's not aunt Janet's chippy but it'll do.” You grin as the memory of you two having afternoon dates at your local chip shop passes by your mind.

“Don't tempt me, or I'll start swingin’ in this storm to get us some.”

“That's physically impossible, Hobie.” You unconsciously mirror his movements.

“Yeah, if you're not Spider-Man.” He shrugs with a smug look as he walks backwards to order your snack.

He'll be the death of me one day. You think as your eyes never leave his form.

—

You finish your sandwich right on time when Hobie comes back from the car rental counter. His annoyed expression tells you that it did not go well.

“What happened?” You swallow, throwing away the paper packaging at a trash can. Hobie leans on the glass wall right next to you, hands in his pockets. You narrow your eyes at his suspicions posture, “you're fucking with me aren't you? You have the keys in your pockets, right?” He tilts his head towards you with a tight-lipped smile. Your teasing grin falters. “Right?”

“Nah, not this time, love. Sorry.”

You sigh, wincing, hope snuffed out. “Really?” He nods, you really hoped that you would get to go on a road trip with him again. “Damn, I thought you were joking.”

“They're not lettin’ any cars out because of the ice. Slippery road and all that.” He huffs, and then flicks his eyes at you. “How was the sandwich?”

“Pretty okay,” you turn your head to him, body drifting closer. The window is cold under your head. “The bread should've been toasted better though.” Rummaging through your pockets, you find your wallet to pay him back. “How much do I owe you?”

“A hundred quid.” He chuckles at his own joke.

“Fuck off.” You scoff out with a giggle.

He finds your laughter contagious, grinning he shakes his head. “Nah, it wasn't much, keep it.”

“I gotta pay you back, Hobie.” You insist.

“You already did with the tea, love.”

You laugh some more. “That one was free!”

The PA system interrupts and calls on your flight again, and as you predicted, it's delayed. You barely notice the announcement with him looking at you softly.

“Everythin’ is free if you think ‘bout it.” He pokes your bicep playfully as you roll your eyes with a grin. “I think that was your flight, lovie.”

“Yeah, I expected it this time— wait, when's your flight? Did they announce it already?”

“It's cancelled,” he says casually. “Is it that bad though? I got to see you because of it.” His tone is tender, with a hint of apprehension under his voice.

“Too bad on the impromptu road trip though.” You scooch closer to him. In the busy airport where every person rushes in and out, you and Hobie are in your own world where it's just you and him. “I would've loved to stop by the chip shop with you.”

“We could still do that,” Hobie whispers, eyes downturned as he wraps his pinky around your own. He gives you space to move away or flinch, but you don't. Instead, in a twist of events, you pull him closer with just your pinky, toe to toe with him, holding him just like how he remembered. “I'll take that as a yes then?”

“Ask me,” your free hand rises to his chest, palm right on his heart, feeling how his heartbeat hastens. You lock eyes with him, smiling gently as you see his pupils dilate with just you in his vision. “Please ask me.”

“I saw you a few minutes before we met at the tea stand. And I followed you like a bloody creep thinkin’ that I was hallucinatin’ or some shit—” you stop his rambling with your hand cupping his cheek. He leans against your touch, eyes closing for a moment. Your heart leaped in your chest when he did. “Breakin’ up was a bad idea.” He says as he opens his eyes, hand holding the back of yours, feeling his calloused hand around your own. “Go to Janet's chippy with me, we'll get your usual. And I'll get mine and I'll give you the first bite like always.”

“Like our first real date.” You almost couldn't get the words out with the lump in your throat.

Hobie nods with a lopsided smile, eyes glimmering in the light. “Say yes, please.”

“Yes.” Your lips wobble. “And you're fucking right, breaking up was a very bad and stupid idea on our part.” A tear escapes that he promptly wipes away carefully.

Hobie exhales like it's the first time he lets go of a breath. His forehead meets yours, and you hold him, giggling, pecking the tip of his nose.

“I missed that.” He leans away, cradling your face in his hands. “Fuck, I missed you.”

“I missed you too, you have no idea.”

“I have a faint idea.”

You chortle, eyes tearing up again. “You wanna argue who missed who the most?”

“Anythin' to hear you talk, love.” As he tilts his head to kiss you, he inhales and brushes his lips on yours. He feels complete.

Before you could seal the deal, the PA system echoed again. This time though, they announce that your flight is canceled. You hear simultaneous groans across the airport, except from you and Hobie.

You laugh against his lips, making him chuckle. Leaving a chaste kiss before moving away, you silently promise to give him a proper one once you and Hobie are out of the rushing crowd.

Moving away, you kiss his knuckles as you take his bag away. He understands the memo, carrying your luggage as you continue to walk away.

“Where are you goin'? We can't rent a car to drive back home.” Hobie calls after you, matching your pace almost immediately.

“I booked a hotel just in case something like this happens.” You swear you heard his breath hitch in his throat.

“Just like this?” He points to himself with a knowing smile.

“You know what I mean, Hobie.” You say with a lilt in your tone. “Either you sleep in a cot and wake up with an aching back, or you sleep in the same room with me.” You flick your eyes at Hobie, who's absolutely dumbstruck, that's quickly replaced with a huge grin, his eyes crinkle at the corners as you nudge him playfully.

“I prefer sleepin’ in the same bed with you if you'd ask me to.” He switches your bag on his other hand, carrying it all in one hand effortlessly so he could reach for your hand.

“Well, this is me asking.” You squeeze his hand thrice, walking towards the airport's hotel with a skip in your step. You're glad that your flight was canceled.

Support banner by @/cafekitsune

Custom banner by @mushroom-graphics-allotment

[lucystark12]

milevens are insane

warning now - i get extremely heated in this so if you're going to tell me to calm down leave. before any of you weird bitches tell me to go do something more productive or to touch grass- no. i'm fifteen, it's summer, and i'm a highly involved high school student. i'm not here because i have nothing better to do, i'm here because i understand good writing and am able to have hobbies ❤️

anyways

was on the mileven endgame hashtag just now and because i don't choose violence i wont be addressing any of them directly, but i will be addressing some of the ridiculous bullshit on there. term bullshit used intentionally

the love confession came as a result of mike "gaining the confidence" to tell el how much he loves her because he was afraid that he loved her more than she loved him.

are you listening to the words that are coming out of your mouth right now? i want to sit down and get a coffee with you and dissect what the fuck you meant by that. sure, right, yeah, he gained so much PRODUCTIVE confidence from his conversation he had with will where will was using eleven to mask his own feelings for mike. it makes so much sense narratively that this end all be all mileven event is sparked from will's feelings and not mikes! sure! right! this is such an idiotic piece of reasoning. you are literally saying that you are okay with your endgame ship only being endgame based on faulty communication and lies. are you joking? "you just gotta improve your motivation" ass piece of evidence

also, mike being insecure about loving her more than she loves him is complete, total, utter bullshit. el frequently expresses her love to mike via letters and youre here to say that mike would have any problem with doing the same thing if he were insecure about her love for him? that literally makes no sense. i wouldn't be afraid of loving somebody more than they love me if they are actively putting more effort into insuring me that they love me than i am to them. like, what does that even mean?

“Will Byers is a pathetic loser annoying character and contributed little to the plot of ST. "

yes that is a direct quote. no i'm not kidding.

what kind of fucking neanderthal watches stranger fucking things- a show about a kid who disappears- and thinks the kid who disappears isn't a central part of the narrative? the first episode of the goddamn show is called "the vanishing of will byers"! maybe this is hard for you and your confused brain to get your head around, but el and mike met when mike was out looking FOR WILL. mike and el are still together because mike gained courage from WILL'S LOVE FOR HIM. what a fucking idiot you must be. i would try to explain to you the myriad of other reasons why will is absolutely central to the plot of the show, but since the show itself has clearly gone in one ear and out the other, i probably wont be able to get through to you either.

“what if we learned to cope with world that doesn’t accept us as individuals by embracing each other completely?” said about mileven

um.. what. that's literally byler. closeted gay guys in the 80s. but sure, the ones that aren't being accepted are the two white and allegedly heterosexual individuals. the "world that doesn't accept us" in question is a few high school bullies in comparison with the stigmatization, violence, and ostracization that has longstanding been a part of what it means to be queer. be so serious right now. mileven is not important for being non conformist, the GAY SHIP IN THE 80S IS!!

“The only people who queerbaited, was byler fans themselves lmao.”

even if we're ignoring the horrible grammar there are still SO many things wrong with everything that was just said. what they're saying above for anybody who can't decipher the weird medieval english code this person is using is that bylers actively queerbaited themselves which inherently makes no sense at all.

below i have included the oxford dictionary definition of queerbaiting: "the incorporation of apparently gay characters or same-sex relationships into a film, television show, etc. as a means of appealing to gay and bisexual audiences while maintaining ambiguity about the characters' sexuality."

how is it possible that byler shippers themselves are the ones doing the queerbaiting? are we running the show? nope! before you come on and post something as offensive as this- which i will get into- at least make sure you know what you're saying. xoxo

to insinuate for even a second that mike wheeler not being gay would be anything other than deliberate queerbaiting is insane. there is something wrong with you. aside from the parts of the show where his queerness is deliberately alluded to like music, costuming, analogies, allegories, and set design, netflix has been, weather you like it or not, actively marketing in favor of byler and mike not being straight. all below come from official netflix accounts-

how is this not queerbaiting? genuinely what are you on about. this is literally textbook.

“will is fruity but mike didn't like the fruit on his pizza”

you seriously are basing your argument about mike not being gay on him not liking fruit on pizza? you seriously think that some of the most commended and celebrated writers of the last decade would use symbolism involving a word that can literally be interpreted as a slur when their show has two characters who are canonically a part of the group affected said slur? are you fucking stupid? that was harmless banter used to communicate the differences in habitual action across the country. it wasn't the duffers trying to do for you what they do for us in deliberate, straightforward NON-OFFENSIVE symbolism.

i saw somebody claim that mike's character arc in season four was inherently about not believing in his self worth nor in his competency to be in a relationship with el

while i do for the most part agree with you, i'm going to ask you a question- mike was never anxious about his identity and self worth involving el before season four. why do you think that just came up now if not for the fact that he's been having insecurities involving his sexuality and romantic attraction to women as a whole? in my opinion, mike realized that he might not like girls in that way circa the end of season three- a realization that only festered and grew through the absence of not only the boy he loves that is causing this insecurity but the girl whom he is using as a way to say hey, i can't be gay, i have a girlfriend! mike was clearly going through some serious emotional struggles as we can immediately see in this scene with how suddenly awkward he is with will and the immediate emphasis that's put on the "from mike" on the flowers.

i agree that his season four and part of his season five arc are about his feelings of insecurity about being in a relationship with el, however, i don't think he's insecure because he thinks she's better than him in the sense that she's some superhero, i think he thinks she's better than him because he knows that he'll never be able to love her the way she deserves to be loved. he's not going to outright come and say to will that he doesn't think that he can love her in the way she deserves to be loved. he's closeted. what he says in the van scene is the only way he knows to express his feelings. it's very similar to what will does in the same scene. it makes no sense for this insecurity to randomly manifest in him if it wasn't for an external factor that doesn't involve el, because nothing has really changed with the dynamic of their relationship other than the move. one could argue that mike is feeling insecure over el's supposed popularity she claims to have in her letters, but mike's arc has never been about caring about popularity in school. that's not something on his mind so much as the grand scheme of the world is. lets not forget that he joins hellfire in season four.

“When Mike didn’t say “I love you”, By*ers twisted it to their narrative. When Mike did say “I love you”, By*ers twisted it to their narrative.”

you literally sound like trump going on about the democrats. listen to what your saying right now. also, it's a ship name. there's no need to censor it you fucking weirdo.

wasted time building up mileven

i'm sorry, what build up? i'm confused. there's no "build up". THIS is build up:

above is will, possessed by a monster who feeds off of those lacking love in their lives, only being able to be broken out of possession by a heartfelt monologue by the PERSON HE LOVES detailing how the best decision he ever made was to befriend him.

above is will claiming he will never fall in love, then his love for one of the other main characters becomes a central plot point of the two seasons to come. joyce and i see through will and all of you weird milevens

mike telling will how it's not his fault will doesn't like girls only after he loses the person he's been using to cover up his own insecurity about the same thing- not liking girls. suspicious.

will's LOVE FOR MIKE being the thing to give him the confidence to help el SAVE THE WORLD, only episodes after we establish that mike is bound to be pissed that he was lied to. and theres no buildup? THERE'S REALLY NO BUILDUP?

if you don't see buildup i fear you are literally just a lost cause because it is so painfully obvious to anybody who made it past seventh grade english class that there is something deeper and more intimate than friendship going on between will byers and mike wheeler.

“Women can be independent while being in a relationship guys😭!!”

OBVIOUSLY! i am literally the biggest feminist on the entire western seaboard. i couldn't agree more with this, which is why we have arcs like nancy's where she actively becomes more independent while still maintaining a relationship with jonathan. the difference is that mike and el have been together since they were like thirteen. when el was immersed into the real world for the first time in season two she immediately leaned on mike for support in that. it's not that she can only be independent on her own, it's that mike is directly symbolic to her of a time when she was stumbling around the world with naivete and not quite knowing how to navigate that. by spreading her wings away from that relationship, it will not only give her independence, but also a way to see beyond the barriers of hawkins and a life where she was valued mostly for the qualities she brings to the supernatural equation. el's arc is one of my favorites. i would never claim such a thing and discredit the essence of what makes the emotions behind her character so interesting. she's somebody who was literally raised in a lab. she shouldn't be held back by somebody she is quite literally dependent on.

last but not least, i saw a post that said milevens always win.

"are you sure about that?" i ask, noah schnapp's most recent instagram post open on my phone, finn wolfhard's spotify playlist in my headphones, my mike holding will's painting funko on the desk in front of me, wearing a yellow shirt with a blue sweater over it.

thank u for listening to my ted talk 💙💛

[asteiioss]

The One With The Proposal

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!OC

Warnings: smut, fingering, oral sex (m receiving), slight BDSM (use of cuffs), delayed orgasm, P in V sex, unprotected sex (people pls be safe), creampie, no use of Y/N

Word Count: 4.1k

A/N: Well... Okay. There's a few things you need to know about this piece of work you're about to read. This is actually a part of my series that I'm writing on Wattpad. I will put the link below in case you want to read the whole thing. It's not finished, I'm still writing it. This chapter, however, can be a standalone and can be viewed as a one-shot, so I decided to post it here, too. I wish you an enjoyable reading. Oh, and this is not read through, so if you find some mistakes, pretend that you didn't.

Wattpad acc link: here

Spencer Reid. A man known for several things. His knowledge. A brilliant man, whom the FBI owes many thanks. Uncountable cases that he helped solve that would probably stay unsolved without him. His blabbering. He had a whole paragraph ready to shout out on anything you say. The sky? Fun fact... The book you're looking at? Fun fact, the author actually... A specific person who's dead or alive or never surfaced for something they did? Fun fact about them...

You will never see him wear anything outside of professional clothes. Comfortable professional clothes. Sweaters, cardigans. He sometimes reminds me of older women who wrap themselves in their cardigans. You will never hear him swear. Not in public, anyway. The most he said once was goddamn it. The entire team was left in shock. Penelope was even scared of him that day.

He will stutter in conversations and situations that make him even slightly uncomfortable. He has a germ thing. He never shakes hands or hugs with random people. He makes contact with his friends, me, and some close people like his mother, Diane.

Now put all that into an image and try to picture that man. A shy, uncomfortable, boyish man. Stuck reading books when he has free time. No, no. He cancels plans to stay indoors and read books. Even re-read them.

That same man proposed to me half an hour ago. It was small, intimate, and sentimental. We walked by the restaurant where we confessed we loved each other. He let my hand go and I took a few steps ahead. When I turned back, he was down on one knee and held a small box in his hands.

I said yes.

I said yes more than once.

He was the sweetest man. He was mine. I loved to be loved by him. Delicate, heartwarming, caring and sweet. The man I just described above.

That same man was driving us home at the moment, his dick hard, bulging in his pants, one hand or the wheel, the other deep in my cunt while curving his knuckles at a new angle as he fucked me.

Every person has two sides.

And boy, oh boy, did I love his other side.

Everything anyone knew about Spencer, they would say he would be a sweet, whiney, submissive man during intimacy. I beg to differ.

His fingers twirling inside me, I huff as I refuse to moan just yet. I hated the way he could make me fold so, so easily. Deep breaths. Deep breaths. My mouth is open and I can't hold in pleads from him. His fingers are long. I love his fingers. But his cock is bigger.

He pulls into our parking space and he removes his hand from under my dress. He walks out and comes around to open my door. I begin to come out when he stops me, picks me up and tosses me over his shoulder. I yelp, feeling almost powerless. He slams the door and locks the car and continues to carry me up almost three flights of stairs. The apartment door flies open before we go in. He closes it with his leg and heads directly to our bedroom.

I can't help but blush. I felt like a tiny girl. How disgusting that the tiny girl imagined all the things he would do to her in a few moments. He slides me down and steps back to look at me. His eyes scan me, from the smallest hair on the top of my head all the way down to my toes. There's a devilish desire in his eyes, his mouth parted ever so slightly. His eyes come back to mine and he, almost growling, says, "I kneeled for you, now go ahead and kneel for me."

Tingles run down my entire body. I don't hesitate to obligate his request. Not a request. He demanded. And I wasn't going to defy this. I wasn't going to defy him. Not breaking eye contact, I slide down on my knees, perfectly aligned with his belt. I look ahead, seeing him painfully hard in his pants. I slide my hands up his legs and start undoing his pants. Every clank makes me tingle between my legs.

There was a specific time when a powerful, strong and independent woman only wants, no, only needs to be told what to do. I raised myself from nothing. No one helped me. I could only thank myself for everything I have accomplished in my life. I would listen to no man. No man had the power over me. No man could take nothing from me. Except him. He had all of me wrapped around his little finger.

And I didn't mind.

Being submissive to someone means so much more then people think. It means trust. It means love. Truth be told, not every submissive person tends to be like that in everyday life. Don't get me wrong, I know what comes to mind when you think of someone like that. Porn taught us so wrongly. And this? This was so much more intimate then just porn. This was desire, lust, and pure neediness.

After undoing his belt, I pulled down his pants, tugging his underwear to, removing them to. I would skip everything just to feel him. Being released from his clothes was hitting him sweetly as he took a sharp breath when my eyes fell to his dick.

I look up, almost lustful, maybe waiting for him to tell me to touch him, maybe even to beg me, a whole 180 to what I just described myself as. His eyes were dark and watching me from a high. He simply smirked, almost reading my mind and what was going through it.

"Go on," he half whispered, voice deep just like the darkness around us, "be the slut the outside world has no idea you are."

And that was all it took. My hand takes his base before I stick out my tongue and slide it up his entire length. There was a lot of length. He inhales, pushing a groan down his throat at the first touch I plant on him.

This was going to be a long night.

The kiss I leave at his tip as I start stroking him with my hand sends his head falling back. The motion pushes his curls off of his forehead. I loved when his hair fell on his face. It made him look messy. It made him look more flustered. And the image of him like that made me throb between my legs.

After enough slow-play, I stick out my tongue and take him in my mouth, slowly, reaching as far as I could before I feel him touch my throat. He feels he reached far and he groans. The funny thing is I had taken only half of him. He looks down again, his hairs flying back to his face. His fingers twist around in my hair and tug slightly, almost like he was checking the grip he had on my head.

But I soon found out it wasn't the grip why I thought he wanted it. He held my head in place as he started to rock back and forth. He was using me. Using my mouth to be precise. And he started fucking it. At first it was slow, almost shallow thrusts, reaching where he first did. But as time passed, he became more fierce. He started going deeper, hitting the back of my throat with more force making me gag. My eyes started to water as I had no control over anything. His hand held my head in place as he now almost pounded into my mouth.

As he continued, I could feel him twitch on the top of my mouth. And so did I. I felt my panties dampen with every second that passed. I was horny because my boyfriend, my fiancé, was fucking my throat like it was just something for him to use.

Muffled moans and occasional groans escaped his mouth. He was about to finish. I could easily tell by the increased speed of his thrusts and their force. Finally, he pushed himself almost the whole way, deep into my throat and let himself release there. I gagged pretty hard, trying to keep him down and not throw out his cum.

He pulled himself out and let go of his grip on my hair. His hand slid from behind to my chin and he lifted my face up. He was taking deep and long breaths, his chest falling and rising every time. His eyes scanned me, a fucked mouth, watery eyes and bright red cheeks. Must have been quite a sight.

"Swallow, baby." he said and left his mouth slightly opened, watching as the small bulb went down my throat and he smiled in satisfaction. "Good girl. Your turn."

He bent down and picked me up to carry me to the bed. Back facing the mattress, he climbed on top and roughly kissed me. I loved when he did that. After what I just did, he didn't hesitate to kiss me. He didn't get disgusted to do so. His fingers hooked around the hem of my dress and he pulled it off in one quick motion. I was left in my bra and panties that were already soaking wet. Every time he saw me like that, dressed but not dressed, I'd get shy.

I never liked my body. And yet he worshipped it.

"God, you're so gorgeous." he hovered over me, his eyes trailing over every inch of my body. I shivered from his words that sounded like a prayer. It was half whispers. Like he was afraid that if someone heard what he had, it would be stolen from him.

His lips come down and start kissing my neck, my weak spot. Just the warmth of his kiss makes me moan, eager for more as I buck my hips up towards him. I feel that I caress his cock against my thigh, and as soon as he feels it, he pushes my hips down with his hands.

"Needy, are we?" he chuckles against my skin as he now slowly moves lower and leaves a trail of kisses at my collarbone.

"I hate when you do this." I whine, my fingers roaming through his hair.

"You hate when I kiss you?" he says between kisses, one on my shoulder, one at the base of my neck, one directly in between my breasts.

"No, I-" my words get interrupted when I moan. I feel him smile when he hears me. "I hate when you make me wait. You tease. Every time." I take a deep breath in between every sentence to take in his kisses. As much as I did hate the delay of the actual sex, I loved feeling him everywhere. I didn't know what I wanted more.

He continues kissing, his lips reaching my stomach and he stops. I look down to see him slightly smirking as he is settled just between my legs. I feel shivers. He lets go of my hips and slowly pulls down my panties, sliding his fingers down along my legs in the process. He is continuing to tease me with every touch he leaves on my body.

When I finally think that he is going to stick his tongue at my cunt, I am yet again met with disappointment. He comes over me and trails his hands, slowly, around my back as he keeps looking me in the eyes to catch every whiney face I make as I plead him to fuck me already using no words. But he knows. Oh, he knows that's what I'm asking of him.

He unhooks my bra and I am completely naked. His shirt comes off as he makes us even. Again, I hope that he will now go down. It doesn't have to be his mouth, I'll be happy if he would just stick his fucking fingers into my pussy and rummage through it. But, no. He bends down and kisses my breasts, moving from one to the other. Kissing it, sucking on the nipples, squeezing them with his hands.

If he was kissing and/or sucking the right he would be squeezing the left. There was no space left for me to catch a breath. Then, he bit down on one, just enough to make me squeal. He chuckled with my tit in his mouth. I had enough. I gripped his hair and pulled him up to my face.

"What do you fucking want from me?" I say with a whiney voice. I sounded desperate. I hated it. I loved it, too.

His face had a drunk smile across it. He was enjoying this. My torture was satisfaction for him. Fucking great. "I want you to beg." he said through a whisper. His head was tilted back as I was pulling his hair.

I hated to beg him. Especially to do what I wanted. I knew he knows what I want, but he loves when he makes me break and I have nothing left but to fucking beg him to do the most unholy things to me.

I roll my eyes. "No." I simply say.

He smirks and bucks his hips so his dick slides over my dripping cunt. My entire body arches and he smiles again. "Beg, my love. Use that mouth for something else then a place for me to dump my cum."

That mother fucker. "You assh-" he bucks his hips again and breaks me mid-sentence. I growl at him.

"I don't think that's how begging works. C'mon. Beg me to fuck you. I know you want to."

It was weird hearing him swear. Not just swear, but use vulgar words in general. I used them everyday. It was like saying 'hi' to someone. But Spencer? Noup.

I gave up. I close my eyes and just make peace with my fate. "Please, Spencer."

He bends down and kisses my lips. "You have to be specific, my love. What do you want from me?"

I'm boiling at this point. Do I have a choice? If I want to be fucked, not really. "I want you to fuck me, please me, make me cum. I'm fucking tired of being teased." I practically cry out the last part.

He smirks and I let go of my grip on his hair. He doesn't move, he is still looking me directly in the eyes as he slides one hand down and caresses my inner thigh. He goes over my cunt with his entire hand and I loudly gasp. He watches, enjoys the reactions he gets as he touches me. He brings his hand up and licks his two fingers and then slides them down again.

Baby, you don't need no more moisture, I'm wet enough.

His hand finally connects to my core and he starts making circles around my clit. My body erupts. I no longer have control over my reactions. My eyebrows furrow, my mouth is wide open and it's letting out moans, whines, sounds I didn't even know I could make. And he simply watches. From time to time he would bend down and kiss my neck, maybe even bite down on it, making me buck my entire body up.

"God, you're so fucking wet." he says and starts rubbing up and down my entrance. "You're so pretty. My pretty girl."

I'm melting. Melting into his sinister hands that are touching me in the most horrid ways. And I wouldn't stop him even in a million fucking years.

He slides the fingers in, gently, slowly, caringly. I let out a loud moan, slapping my mouth after I do. Just as I did, his other hand takes my wrist and pulls it off. Holding it, he collects my other hand and pins both of them above my head. "Why would you do that?" he asks. But I don't answer, it's a rhetorical question. "You sound so beautiful when you moan for me. You sound so pretty."

His knuckles are now buried deep inside my pussy and he starts to pump them in and out. When he slides them back in, his thumb hits my clit and he curls his fingers inside just enough to hit that little spot. Every movement he made was followed by that wet sound. I just knew his fingers were drowning in my arousal, and I just knew he was so eager to put his cock inside there too.

He kisses my jaw, my neck, my cheeks. He is enjoying this. Pleasuring someone you truly love is pleasure to you as well. His other hand in on my thigh, pulling it away so he has better access and can slide in deeper then he usually could. In between my own sounds, I can hear him groan whenever I jerk my hips upward and slightly stoke him against my leg.

I want more. Now, I'm just desperate because I don't want to finish now. I want to cum over his cock while he is buried all the way inside. I want him to see that little blub in my stomach appear and disappear as he fucks me.

Like on cue, as if he heard me, he pulls his hand away and climbs the bed again. Pushing my legs fully apart, he aligns himself at my entrance. He pushes, but purposefully jerks himself up so he slides against my clit. I see him place himself on my abdomen as if he is looking how far he goes when he's inside.

"Look at how deep I can bury myself in you, love." he admires and glides his fingers over my skin. He pulls back and leans over to the drawer next to our bed. For a moment he rummages through it. "Shit."

I look over, trying to figure out what was going on. "What is it?"

He pauses and looks at me. "We don't have any condoms."

Well shit.

But I put on my big girl face. "And?"

He looks slightly surprised by my reaction. "No protection?"

I shrug. "What's the worst that can happen?" I smirk, moving myself lower on the bed and connecting myself with him. He really was hard.

He says nothing and just enters. He pushes in with quite a bit of force. I let out a quiet scream at his motion. I still needed time to adjust to his length. But he didn't care. He was already in full force, starting to pick up the pace of his thrusts. His hands go down and wrap around my hips and he uses them to pull me on himself as he continues to pound me.

The room is filled with my whines and moans, the sounds of our hips connecting and slamming against each other, and his groans. I love when he groans. I know he feels good. I make him feel good.

"You're so tight. It's so warm inside." he says through rough groans.

His fingers are diving inside the skin of my hips. I feel pain as he squeezes them. I push the feeling away, I even don't have to. The feeling of his dick hitting my deepest point is strong enough to push it away almost instantly.

The repetitive slamming into me lures my finish to approach. It's forming in my gut and I feel it slowly coming as he continues fucking me mercilessly, rough and fast thrusts.

"I'm gonna cum- Oh, God, Spence." I saw, although I'm not sure how I managed to.

Just as I said that, I felt my climax get at its highest point, and I was about to finish-

He pulls out.

What the fuck?!

"Wha- what are you doing?" I stutter, the high still in the air but it's fading away.

He looks down and has a wicked smile on his face. His cheeks are deep red and his hair is damp from his sweat. "I'm not done with you. Turn around."

I'm mad. Furious. I want to defy him so badly, I want to say 'no', maybe even flip him off. But I want to finish. I was just about to. So I do as I'm told. I prompt myself up and turn around and stand on all fours on the bed. Might I add that this is my favorite position.

I expect him to align himself again and continue to thrust like he did, but he gets off the bed and walks over to the corner of the room. The corner where he keeps his bag for work. I hear a clank before he walks back behind me. He places his hand on my upper back and slightly pushes, indicating for me to lower myself even more. My face and chest lay on the mattress. My ass is now the only thing in the air.

This position gives him more access. I am ready for it to hurt before I can adjust myself to his length again at this angle. Yet again, I don't get what I'm expecting. He takes my wrist and places it behind my back, then the other and connects it with my other one. I hear that clank again. He takes one of my wrists again and puts the metal around it.

It's his fucking cuffs.

He puts his cuffs on and thugs on the chain between them to pull my arms back. He pulls so much that I have to lift myself slightly off the bed. I tremble. Out of excitement. Our of slight fear. Out of horniness, simply.

I feel him bend down and kiss my back. He knows I love that. It feels very intimate to me. He kisses down my spine and then slaps my ass. I yelp, not just by the sudden contact, but also because he slapped it pretty hardly. Not enough to leave a bruise, but it will definitely go red in a few seconds.

"You ready?"

There are certain points in our sex life when he asks, or even simply warns to hold on tight to anything. Since I was obviously restrained, he's asking. That is enough to know this was going to be really good.

"Yeah." I whisper, my face buried back into our bed.

"You know I love you, right?" he whispers again and pushes his tip into my cunt.

My breath trembles since I was still sensitive from the high I missed a few minutes ago. "I know."

"Good. Because for the next few minutes it might not look like I do."

He didn't give me time to respond. He slammed himself inside, making me scream out. This was enough for the neighbors to hear. He started thrusting. I still wasn't adjusted to this position, and his cock was hitting from a new angle that allowed much better access. I felt pain. But, God, was it good. My eyes started watering from the pain as I couldn't take it. I prayed that my pussy would stretch just slightly so I could take him a bit easier.

After a short while, I did. The slight pain was still there. It couldn't really go away from the force he was driving himself in. And then it happened. He slapped my ass again. It was a strong slap. His hand was big enough to cover my entire cheek. I yelp at the sudden pain.

As he continues to thrust, I feel him occasionally twitch. That can mean only one thing. He is about to cum again. Just when I realize that, he speeds up. He pulls on the cuffs and makes me get up from the bed. He's pulling hard enough to hold me in the air.

He hits again, going back to squeeze after. I feel the slight burn of his slaps. Another one connects to my skin and with it I feel that high again. I don't want it to escape again, so I bend slightly so he feels me letting him slide even deeper.

Spencer quickly realizes what I'm trying to tell him, but there's not much left before I feel him hammer himself once, then again, just as I feel my climax release. I scream out, and I feel him empty himself inside.

It takes him a few seconds to calm down before he lets me fall down on the bed again. I'm a fucking mess. He takes off the cuffs and places my hands on my sides before he bends down and removes my hair from the back of my neck and kisses in that spot.

"My perfect girl." he cooed. "You're so fucking special."

I breathe deeply. "Well..." I begin as he lays down next to me. "That was fun." I feel his cum drip down out of my cunt.

He chortles. "That's one way to put it."

I was about to marry this man. I loved every inch of him. Every version there was of him. There was nothing that could take that away from me.

[meazalykov]

water won't hurt you

lena oberdorf x curlyheaded!reader

summary: lena will get her girlfriend to go into the water, one way or another

warnings: none

in ibiza, you are lounging on a comfortable sunbed. the summer gave you the chance to relax from the hard-work that came from being a footballer. 

soaking in the rays in your favorite swimsuit, you wore a wide-brimmed hat shielding your face from the intense sun. it was a random navy blue yankees hat from back home. 

the ocean wasn’t too far away from you, in fact it was just twenty feet ahead. however, you would go in the water if the water stayed at waist-height. 

your thoughts drifted to your hair every time you had to surround yourself in a beach or pool setting. in the soccer/football community, you're known for your perfectly straightened hair, a far cry from its natural 3b curly state. 

you spent hours last night with the straightener, making sure that it looked good for the beautiful day out in ibiza, and the last thing you want is for it to get wet and revert to its original form.

beside you, your girlfriend lena is a picture of carefree joy. her laughter rings out as she has her hands directly above her eyes trying to watch a tiktok on the phone. she is lying beside you, so you can see the tiktok of a random baby waving their hand in the air. 

in the epitome of summer relaxation, you smiled at your girlfriend’s laughter as you ran your fingers through her soft brown colored hair. over two years ago, you fell in love with lena when she was playing at wolfsburg and you were at bayern. your love has only grown since then. you fell for her first, she fell for you harder. its obvious since she is leaving wolfsburg to be closer to you. 

after turning her phone off– lena glances at you, her eyes sparkling with mischief through the sun rays. “baby, we should go over there,” she says, pointing at an area where a bunch of adults layed. you didn’t have a chance to speak before she stands up and brushes off the sand from her legs.

you stood up, slipping on your sandals and following her along the winding path by the shore. you guys didn’t grab your stuff on the sand because you guys are coming right back according to lena. 

the salty breeze feels refreshing on your soft skin, but you’re constantly aware of how close the water is. you hoped that last-night's hair routine wouldn’t go down the drain. 

as you turn a corner, following your girlfriend, a breathtaking sight greets you. there was a small cliff that juts out into the turquoise water. it wasn’t a huge area but it's a perfect spot for a dive, and you can see a few people already enjoying the thrill of jumping into the clear inviting sea by diving in themselves.

lena’s eyes light up as she stops just five feet before the edge.  “i’m going to jump in, come in with me” she exclaims, practically bouncing on her toes as she holds her hand out for you to grab.

you feel a twinge of anxiety. “um– i don’t think so, lena. i don’t want to get my hair wet,” you reply, glancing nervously at the water. 

lena narrows her eyes, giving you a look you know all too well. “oh, come on! just this once? water will not hurt you or your beautiful hair.” she pleads, stepping closer to the edge of the cliff as she gave you her signature smirk.

you shake your head, backing away. “no way! you know how long it takes to straighten my hair sweetheart, I don’t want to go through that again.”

lena sighs, but there’s a mischievous glint in her eye. “you shouldn't be worried about your hair love. you should to live a little.”

you cross your arms, standing firm. “i don’t know lena. I don’t want to do this.”

lena takes a step closer, her playful expression turning into that suspicious look you know all too well. “are you sure about that?” she asks, her voice lowering conspiratorially.

your eyes widen as you see her take another step. your eyes widen and you step back as you realize what she’s planning. “lena, no!” you shout, taking another step back.

before you can make a run for it, lena is already moving. you take off, sprinting down the rocky path, but she’s too quick. as a footballer, you’re faster in speed but her strength is no match to you. in a few swift strides, she catches up, scooping you up effortlessly in her arms.

“baby, no, please! don’t!” you squeal, struggling half-heartedly to get out of her arms as she laughs.

“too late!” she exclaims, holding you tightly as she approaches the edge of the cliff. after a few steps– she leaps off the cliff, holding you tightly. the world seems to pause for a moment as you’re suspended in mid-air, and then you’re plunging into the cool, blue water. 

when you surface, gasping for breath– thanking god that you know how to swim– you look down at your hair that stops right by your chest. your hair is soaked, the carefully straightened strands already starting to curl. 

you glare at lena, who’s grinning from ear to ear, her laughter infectious as she swims towards you.

“you’re mean,” you say, splashing her playfully. she holds you by your waist in the water as you wrap your legs around her torso. pretending to be mad, you pouted as she laughed.

“you still love me though.” she replies, her voice softening. you smile, knowing she is correct. 

you can’t help but smile, the warmth of her embrace and the beauty of the moment making you forget about your hair, at least for now. “i do love you,” you say, leaning in to kiss her.

lena smiles against your lips, her eyes twinkling as she pulls away. “I love you too and i’m sorry– but this was the only way i’d get you in here with me– come on, let’s swim a bit. ” she says, pulling your body along with hers as she starts swimming around.

you laugh, understanding that you couldn’t be mad at your love for this. “alright, alright, you’re forgiven. but you have to redo my hair later!”

“you should leave it curly baby--- its beautiful-- however ill do it tonight if you want.” lena smirks, you nodded your head and blushed in response. 

lena’s grin widens at your blush before she lets your body go. she splashes water playfully in your direction and you gasp in shock, “oh it's on!” you say as you swim to chase your fleeing girlfriend. 

<3

[mondaymelon]

— 𝗮𝗵, 𝗽𝗶𝗰𝗸 𝘂𝗽 𝗮𝗹𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝘆 …! ♥

:feat~ xiao, kazuha, wanderer x gn!reader:

⤷ just fluff and reader being dense af

ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ (open!) : @manager-of-the-pudding-bank, @iamdedinside, @ilyuu, @achlysis

When you're dense as fuck and not picking up on any of their hints...

XIAO is clearly not one to show emotion often.

Yet, when it comes to you, he tries to convey his feelings properly in the best way he can... it's just that-

You seem to be so impossibly oblivious?

That's not really a bother to the aloof man, since he can't exactly read emotions well either. He knows where you're coming from, and will try to give you the time you need.

Xiao's advances on the other hand... are... well, let's just say interesting. Ever since he had quietly asked Zhongli for some relationship advice, the man had been entangled in the two of you's association ever since, giving Xiao the most bewildering advice... to him, at least.

So now, every morning, the two of you drink tea together and watch the sun rise above the mountain peaks, per request of the adpetus. You didn't think much of it - it was more of an excuse just to spend more time with the man, and so you were happy to oblige.

Still, waking up every morning, this early... you can barely keep yourself from dozing off.

"Come to think of it, do you like the sunrise, Xiao? You must have a reason for constantly inviting me to meetings like this... ah- but I enjoy them, I promise you...!"

Xiao let a ghost of a smile play across his face. No, He wants to say to you. I do this because I want to see you. "Yes, the sunrise is beautiful indeed."

"Aha, I knew it! I never took you for someone as sentimental as that, but it's a welcome side of you!"

"...Mhm." But you are much more beautiful.

The silence that comes after is somehow comforting.

He doesn't know where these emotions have come from, or how they blossomed, but just by being in your presence they are nurtured, and by the day they grow.

And because he can't express it himself, he'll wait until the day you realize it. ♥

KAZUHA is someone whose words float like birdsong.

So when he quietly shows you all the poems he's written about you, face flushed merely think it's because of his eloquent language that you don't understand his feelings. After all, he does use quite the number of elaborate metaphors, so it would only make sense, right?

Yet, when he attempts to convey his feelings in a more blunt manner, that seems to somehow fail as well.

"Ah, you're so beautiful that I feel flustered." He lets out a quiet laugh, smiling at you.

"Thank you Kazuha! You're also very beautiful!"

"...Mhm."

And even...

"Hey, I like you."

"Aww, Kazuha, I like you too! We're really the best of friends, aren't we?"

The only thing that comes out of the male's mouth is an awkward laugh. Needless to say, now the truth grows apparent.

You're just really, really dense!

The white-haired male tries to show you through actions instead - holding your hand, walking you home, even going out on "dates", yet still nothing seems to work. All his hints have failed him, and there's only one choice left.

To tell you, directly, again.

"I love you."

"I love you too, Kazuha!" You smile so obviously.

"Romantically."

"...What?" You glance up at him with a dumbfounded expression, eyes wide.

"It's as simple as it sounds."

"Ah- W-w-wait- uhm-" You're stammering hard, now, and the heat that's rising to your face burns. "You... like me??" You voice comes out as an airy whisper.

"Yes, dove, and I'll say it as many times as it'll take." ♥

WANDERER is a little pissed off - which is reasonable.

He's clearly making it obvious, how can you be so stupid?? At this point, surely you're just playing stupid to make a mockery out of him, aren't you?

Playing games with him, of all people... well, that irks him even more than he already is.

And the fact that you seem to be completely unaware of his rage, somehow, makes it even worse!

He doesn't have many friends, but surely regular people don't keep "friends" as close to their heart as he does with you? You call him by his real name, and he treasures your being, but with the way you're acting so blissfully oblivious... he's just about fed up with your antics.

The last straw is when he accompanies you to do some commissions in Sumeru, one of them being to guard a package delivery from Gandharva Ville to Port Ormos. As the two of you walk up to the agreed meeting spot, the commissioner spots you and waves.

"Oh, there you are!" He grins, and something about the way he's acting all buddy-buddy makes Wanderer clench his fists silently. The tanned man turns to the other, wearing the same expression. "Haha, and you didn't tell me you were bringing your lover along as well!"

...What?

And just like that, all of his unexpected rage disappears as he shoots his gaze up, indigo eyes wide.

You laugh whole heartedly. "Nono, this is my best friend-"

"No, I'm their lover!"

You stay silent for the count of three, before speaking awkwardly. "Kuni, what are you-"

"I LIKE YOU, OKAY? UGH, WHY WON'T YOU GET IT ALREADY!! I THINK YOU'RE REALLY NICE AND REALLY PRETTY AND I WANT TO BE YOUR LOVER-!!" He's shouting, now, voice angry as heat rises to his cheeks.

Ah, the words just slipped out of his mouth.

The silence afterwards is suffocating.

The delivery man is the first to break it, clearing his throat before smiling awkwardly. "Uhm, I'll give you guys some space," before hurriedly running off.

"...Kuni, what was that you just said?" It seems the truth has begun to dawn on you, apparent through the way your cheeks are flushed and you won't meet his gaze.

"Dummy- you heard me!" ♥

(a/n) wanderer is so silly

[rosemaze-reveries]

Hi there!! Can I req a Matthias x reader where the reader is very nice yet shy, and Matthias fell for their kindness but is afraid to confess cause he might lose them(who's the first and only person to show him genuine care)?

(But he's also bad at hiding his feelings)

Or maybe a scenario where he has a difficult time sleeping and finds himself impulsively knocking on your door— regretful of his actions but he can't back out now that you're standing in front of the open door, curious from the unexpected visit.

He's a new char so I hardly find any fics about him and I'm desperate💔 you can change the scenario!! I'm really just desperate uehdhsishd(⁠╥⁠﹏⁠╥⁠)

hi anon i LOVED these ideas! i tried to combine both of them into one, i hope it satisfies what you wanted!! ♡

falling slowly 🪡

Matthias isn’t one to act on impulse.

He’ll let his thoughts fester aimlessly inside him, hoping the darker among them someday fizzle out. He’ll watch precious chances fly past him, fearing the consequences of a risk taken too rashly. A missed opportunity is better than another tragedy. A guarded mind is better than a broken heart. But some restless nights drive him to desperation, and tonight that leads him to you.

He stands outside your bedroom door, arms stiff against his sides. He’s passed by this room countless times before, as the two of you occasionally walk each other back to your rooms. But never has he come here on his own, never without explicit permission.

He gingerly raises his hand, letting it hover above your doorframe. All of a sudden, he loses his words. What would he say? I can’t sleep, I need you to check for monsters under my bed? I need you to stay with me until I fall asleep? I need you to tuck me in? What a baby. He can already picture the look you’d send him: a smile that’s trying too hard to be polite, a shabby effort at concealing the judgment within. You wouldn’t turn him down directly, even though he knows you’d want to. Kindhearted people love to dance in circles before saying anything that might offend. He’s all too familiar with this game. Normally, your kindness is something he loves about you, but all he can do now is curse it under his breath. If only you were crueler to him, like most people are, then he wouldn’t have let his hopes inflate his head. He would’ve known never to even consider stopping by your room. He would’ve known to avoid this situation altogether.

His fingers close into a fist, and it’s then he realizes he’s quivering slightly. Louis wouldn’t have a problem in this scenario. That thought piques Matthias most. His “factory defect” has locked him in place yet again, and all he can do is swallow down the reminder of his incompetence. It’s just a door, for God’s sake.

He flexes his fingers one last time, glancing around as if worried someone might catch him. Then he strikes his fist. It’s a clumsy motion, rattling your door on its hinges, and his heart leaps to his throat. A courteous knock would have three raps or so, not the jarring thud! he made — nobody in their right mind would imagine that’s a welcome visitor, right? Especially not at this snake’s pit of a manor. He prays desperately for you to ignore that ever happened. In your position, he’d pretend to be asleep, maybe double-check that the door is properly locked. Surely you’d do the same.

Surely...?

“It’s open!” greets your voice from inside, entirely unconcerned.

Matthias holds his breath. Why are you leaving your door unlocked at this hour? But he tucks that thought away while he stares down at the doorknob. This is it — he’s trapped. If he turns around now, you’ll be left with unresolved fears of someone lurking around your room at night. Nothing could entice him to do that to you. And if you ever found out it was him? It’d be too late for apologies, and definitely not forgiveness. Right, so he has to answer.

Slowly, he cracks it open a fraction, afraid of peering anywhere but the ground.

“You can come in,” you urge. He doesn’t move. He doesn’t want to. Footsteps shuffle around inside, then the door fully swings open. “Oh, hi Matthias! What’s up?”

He only meets your face briefly, at your bright and curious eyes, before his gaze flicks back downward.

“Uh… sorry to bother you, I just…” He awkwardly grasps at his elbows, struggling to string together his intentions. “…I need you.”

. . . . .

There it is. His secret is out. He didn’t mean to let it slip, but that single phrase had been bouncing endlessly around his mind, as if they were the only words he knew. It’s the one thing he can confidently admit: he needs you. He doesn’t expect you to reciprocate. In fact, he’s certain you don’t. Nobody in their right mind would. That’s why he never ventured to say these words before. So when you respond to him with patient silence, as if waiting for him to continue, the entirety of his body freezes over. Maybe only a few seconds pass in reality, but that’s more than enough time for Matthias to fill the gaps. It’s a no — he knows it’s a no.

Your head tips slightly. “Sure, what do you need?”

The whirlwind in his mind slows to a halt. He remembers how he used to cough up excuses on the spot when trying to avoid you—sometimes you’d invite him for a meal or game of cards together, and he had convinced himself those were pity invites so he tended to reject them upfront. It stings less to avoid someone altogether than to endure feeling ‘tolerated’ instead of ‘wanted.’ But now he’s wracking his brain for an excuse to stay.

“I—I just wanted to see you.” It’s not a lie, but for some reason it feels like one.

“Me?” A look of surprise flashes on your face, warmth blooming across your chest. That might be the most forward thing you’ve ever heard from him. Stepping closer, you reach for his forearm, peering up into his face to better examine his strained features. Your free hand reaches up to brush aside the limp strands of hair shrouding his face. “Did something happen? It’s almost midnight—I mean, I don’t mind, it’s just so unexpected…”

The strength falls from Matthias’ shoulders. Out of relief, maybe. Or maybe it’s to brace himself for one last leap of faith.

“Can I stay with you…?” His voice is barely audible. You search his lone eye, staring back at you in its perfect hollowness. At some point, that blank stare has become a comforting sight for you. Your hand trails from his arm to spread across his shoulder. He remains motionless.

“Okay,” you say, softly. “Always.”

As you move to wrap both arms around his neck, you notice his body tense, and his brows furrow, subtly, in a clear attempt not to let you notice. The strain on his face catches you off-guard.

“Wh-What? What’s wrong?” Immediately, you pull back to search his expression.

“N-No, nothing—keep going.”

This time, it’s Matthias who draws you close. His arms weave their way around your waist, pulling you tightly against him. His face burrows into your shoulder, and it’s then you understand the weight of his visit, of his need for you. All you can do is lift a tender hand to ruffle his hair, feeling his pounding heart ease in your arms.

[fictionalslvr]

Part one. Part three.

SYNOPSIS:"Ghost" is your new neighbor in your apartment complex, everyone is afraid of him, but not you. You're the only one to be kind with him.

PAIRING: (Based of comic but that's not 100% canon) Simon Riley neighbor x F¡Reader

WORD COUNT:3.212k

WARNINGS: Fluffy, angst, mentions of blood, war, s.a (not directly) etc.

NOTES:There we go, back to the crying season. I literally cried while writing this one, so i really hope you guys like as much as i did. Remembering, this is the part two of this mini serie. And i HIGHLY recommend to listen to 'happier than ever' by Billie Eilish while reading this.

PREVIOUS PART

It’s been almost a month. Almost a month since Simon appeared at your door, he drinked some coffee with you, had a long talk that showed little things about him. And after he left your door to work, it’s been days since you don’t hear footsteps on the apartment above yours. You can’t help but worry, he said his work was hard, tiring and had big choices. You pace around your house, feeling a weird knot on your stomach, a strange sensation of anxiety consuming you, not seeing his eyes, hot hearing his chuckles, not smelling his unique scent…all of this makes you feel strange, he’s just a neighbor…right? So why are you feeling this way? He’s used to doing this, staying out, working and coming back, he’s fine that’s right. Then why couldn't your heart understand this?

The only thing keeping you calm is your little cat, her fluffy fur on your legs as she brushes herself against you, looking for some caress. You sit down on the couch and sigh, trying to think better and your cat jumps on your lap, purring while your fingers brush her fur gently. It’s almost like she can sense you’re not well at the moment, and tries her best to distract you.

—”You’re a smart kitten, no?” A sad smile flows out, and you can only breathe deep for a moment. You don't know why you’re feeling like this, he’s only your neighbor who’s a bit mysterious, you shouldn’t be worried about him. And yet, your last talk with him made you think all those days about him. He seems like someone who suffered a lot, even if he didn’t tell you what exactly. You can see it, his baggy eyes carrying a sad sparkle on it, like he saw so many things you can’t even imagine. Somehow, you appreciate his bravery, without even telling, you supposed that he suffered, only from his eyes.

He’s always using a balaclava, so there must be a reason for this. Maybe he’s insecure about his face, maybe he just wants to protect his identity for someone, or he just doesn't want people to read his emotions. If the last one is the answer, he’s terribly wrong, because only from his eyes, you could sense how this man carries a lot of weight on his shoulders.

Since when he moved in, you’re caught about his whole figure, everything about him was a mystery, like he can’t really trust anyone. You look around for a while, looking at the pictures on your home, you remember how Simon was staring at them non stop the last time you saw him, his eyes were painful to see, his eyes narrow to the frames as his eyebrows furrowed as your voice called his attention back. Something about family pictures made him perplexed.

It’s weird to say, but damn, you missed him. His raspy voice, his tall figure towering over yours, his short words, his eyes never leaving your face as you talk, he’s a great listener, you could say. Even without knowing much about him, you wanted to see him again, hear his voice, feel his scent, make eye contact, feel this weird human connection you two created quickly. You groan and roll your head back to the couch, staring at the ceiling while your mind don’t stop not even for a second, your mind filled with Simon and everything you noticed about him, like how calloused his hands are, how he seems to be a terrible sleeper, how he looks to hold himself back while he talks, scared he will expose more about his life, how he has a habit of shakes his legs every time, how his eyes don’t stop still, they’re always looking around, as if he’s making sure he’s safe. Every little detail that you could think of, you paid attention to him, like you never did before, you never was this detailed about someone, neither that interested about someone. He has something special, something that curls you up in his hands.

As for Simon? Being on a long mission wasn't that easy. Staying hours awake, the reason why he’s a terrible sleeper, sleeping in uncomfortable tents, thinking only about his objectives all day. It was awful, but, the only thing that reminded him he’s still human, is his friends, his teammates, the only ones he can say some dad jokes sometimes, the only ones who remind him he’s only doing his job, and nothing else, and somehow, that made him feel better. Knowing he’s not alone in this, that he’s not the only one making his hands dirty with blood, the only ones who made him feel less guilty for the blood dripping on his mask. Besides that, sometimes he caught himself thinking of his neighbor, the only one who had the courage to talk to him, that looked him in the eyes, that listened to his short talk, his voice and saw his miserable life. And yet, you don’t even know the whole story, if he did tell you…would you still smile at him? Would you still look him in the eyes? Would you still not be afraid of him? Would you still think he deserves to be loved? Because, he, himself, doesn't think he does. After all he did, all he passed through and lost, he didn't have a chance to be happy and live an ordinary life, he always had to remind how useless he was at protecting his family once, how he was a cowardly kid, how he suffered in dirty hands, how he felt used. Nothing more than a war machine, a big, strong and scary man that everyone frightens, that’s what he is, in his mind. As for you, such a gentle, kind and delicate woman…why would you listen to someone like him? He thinks he doesn’t deserve your kindness.

For now, there he is, stepping back to his apartment, his heavy boots making some noise as he's not even looking at the way he’s doing. It’s always like this when he’s back from a long mission, he felt like he was on automatic. His mask, a bit dirty like his gear, and he had some wounds too. He made his way on the halls, going to the elevator, it’s late, like 4AM.

And a soft voice calls for him before the elevator comes, the creaky wooden door behind him making noise.

—”Simon…?” —It’s your voice, he’s already used to that sweet melody. He doesn’t turn to face you, not wanting to scare you with his actual state.

—”Hello.” —Without noticing, you left a sigh of relief.

—”You’re back. I was worried.” —Your words make him disbelief, he turns to face you, and you can see a mask on his usual balaclava, his eyes widened as his pupils shake.

—”You shouldn’t.”

—”If I could control that. But I couldn't, and I'm happy you’re back." —His eyes fall to your figure, rubbing your eyes as you’re still sleepy, your pajamas from that day, and your voice sounds like honey.

—”What happened to you, Simon?”

—”I was working.”

—’Not this, these wounds…” — Realization crawls up to his mind, you shouldn’t be able to see him like this.

—”Shit.” — He mumbles under his breath and looks away. Your figure walks closer to him, it’s dark to see properly.

—”Please, come in. Let me take care of this for you.”

—”No need, I'm fine, thanks.” —How could he say no to your cute little eyes, looking up and down on his body, looking for every wound. Your fingers go to his arms, gently touching and pulling him inside your apartment. Without a word, he just follows, he could easily get rid of your hands on him, and he didn’t.

You close the door and make him sit on your couch, picking up a med kit in your kitchen, sitting beside him.

—”You’re not going to ask why I'm like this?”

—”Only if you want to say why.” — Your eyes meet him, looking for his approval before you lift up the sleeves of his gear, finding a very bad wound on it, how he wasn’t feeling the pain? He just nods, and you lift his sleeves gently. He loved how caring you are, always searching his approval for everything, even simple things like this. He loves how gentle you were towards a man like him.

—”Then…can we not?”

—”Of course, Simon.”

He always enjoyed how his name would sound in your tongue, in your voice. It made his heart skip a beat everytime. With caution, you clean up his wound, and he doesn't hisses, doesn't frown or groan, he just watches in silence, looking into your eyes all the time. Nothing matters now, not the pain, not the blood, no. Only you, and your kindness.

—”What were you doing awake?”

—”I wasn’t. I heard your footsteps.”

—”How did you know it was mine?”

—”I guessed. You’re the only one who would walk around at this time.” —His dark brown eyes were staring at your face, you looked so concentrated now, even while sleepy like this, you managed to do this. To take care of him.

—”Why are you doing this?”

—”Because I care about you, Simon.”

Those words, it’s been years since he heard it, seem unreal. Why would you care about him? What did he do to deserve such kindness? Is God finally hearing his prays he did when he was young? No, you’re only his neighbor, this is normal…right?

—”Why?”

—"Do i need a reason?" —He only looks away, his head nodding at your words. You were right, you don’t need reasons to do what you’re doing. Though, he really wanted you to have one. He needed you to have a reason to help a man like him.

A comfortable silence creeps in between both, it’s a silence that yells inside, so many questions on both sides, but no one wants to ask it. Simon looks on your window, the curtain flowing and showing the moon bright in the sky, giving him a feeling he never felt before…love, in its truest form, just pure love. Being taken care of like this, he doesn’t even know why he accepted this, normally he would ignore it and go to bed, sleeping only two hours or less. But you, have your gentle fingers wrapping his wound now, gently patching it with a gauze, you had some talent for this, he wondered…have you ever taken care of someone else? Because you seem to be used to this.

—”Well done.” —You mumbles under your breath, your eyelids blink slowly, you’re so sleepy…it’s adorable.

—”Thanks.” —Oh really? Is everything he can mumble after this help? He can’t express anything more than this. Honestly, he didn’t need to, his eyes locked with yours, your body painted with the moonlight and the dark blue sky, and you can see how he feels grateful for you. You smile gently.

—”No need to, I was just worried when I saw you like this.”

Simon sighs, taking off the skull mask on his covered face, leaving only his balaclava as you’re used to.

—”It’s normal for me to get back like this.”

—”With wounds?”

—”Not only on my body.”

—”You know you can’t live like this forever, right?”

—”I always did.”

—”And this will hurt you eventually, Simon. You can’t hide emotions and think everything is okay. They will overflow.”

—”You don’t know me well for this.” —Simon gets up from your couch, his voice getting rougher, and looks at your door. You felt a twist in your guts, he’s worried you might figure him out, because you’re already doing.

—”If you’re being kind only to know my past, forget it. I’m not a storyteller.”

—”Who told you I wanted this? I’m pretty sure it was yourself.” —Now it’s your time to get up and meet his eyes, his eyes can’t lie to you.

—”You’re tricking yourself with this, Simon.”

He hated this, how pretty you look while your skin sparkled with the moonlight, how your eyes made him nowhere to run, how you would read him like a book, even if you two don’t know for a long time.

—”You don’t know me enough to say that.”

—”Being cold won’t keep me away, if that's what you’re trying to do.”

The only thing Simon does is curse under the black silk on his face. He didn’t like to look so predictable, so vulnerable like this. But at the same time, he just wants to be taken care of by you, and only you, no one else. He stays silent for what seems like an eternity, there's nothing else to say. What would he do now? Being cold wasn't going to keep you away, and he knows he will only hurt you, and lose someone like you would be dumb. All of his thoughts were making him dizzy, it was too much, he didn’t feel like this in years, and now it just makes him confused, he doesn't know how to deal with this anymore.

—”Look, Simon, it’s okay. You don’t have to agree with what I say. I just want you to know that even if I don't know you too well, you’re already someone I care about.” —You whispered to him, this tone was enough to bring him back to reality. His heart skips a beat at your words, he didn’t deserve you. At least he doesn’t think so.

—”Do you even realize what you’re saying? I’m a stranger at your house. Aren’t you scared?”

—”Not of you.” —A cute smile spreads on your face, and poor Simon, he feels his legs weaker, his heart melt at the same second.

—”You’re crazy. I can’t understand you.”

He’s being genuine on this, he can’t understand how optimistic you are, how cute, pretty, kind you are. And damn, that hairs of yours, the smell makes him insane, he always tries his best to stay away.

—”And I can't understand you as well, we’re even now.” —Simon can’t help but chuckle in disbelief with your words. Oh God, why couldn’t he have a normal life…by your side if that’s possible?

—”Look, [name], I appreciate the help. I should go now, I already messed up your sleep too much.”

—”Wait…can’t you stay just until i sleep? I can’t go back to sleep alone now.”

—”Uhm…sure.” —He looks away, and you giggle. Quickly, you make your way to the couch again and make yourself comfortable there, laying your body and closing your eyes. He watched every movement, not really wanting to look like a perv or something, he wouldn’t ever want to make you embarrassed.

—”Goodnight, Simon.”

—”Night.” —Simon clears his throat, looking while you find a good position to sleep, you look so peaceful. Maybe having him around makes you feel this way. His eyes are glued to your face, so delicate and calm while you breath slowly, it was an adorable sight, he thought to himself. His thick accent was the last thing you heard before falling asleep, quicker than he thought you would. Simon looks around and sees a blanket on another couch, he takes it and gently puts it above your body, making you nuzzle into it as the cold breeze was a problem your sleeping figure didn’t know it needed help. “How stupid” he thinks to himself, he’s a war criminal, why the hell does he have a soft stop for a person he doesn’t even know the age? His strong arms could rip you apart, since you’re so fragile like this. Correcting himself, he could, but he couldn’t even think of doing it, you’re so delicate, he just wants to protect you, not the contrary. He sighs, and notices he’s been looking at your sleeping figure for a long while now. He walks to your door and holds the handle, but something curls on his legs before he can walk outside, it’s your kitten. That lazy female cat who decided to greet the man on his second visit here, her white and orange fur on his gear.

—”Bloody hell.” — Simon caught himself watching his tone for you, not wanting to wake you up. The little kitten meows while twirling around Simon’s legs, he sighs and rolls his eyes up, one hand holds his mask, the other rubs the cat’s chin with his gloves on, so rough, and yet, bent down to caress your cat.

—”Now…let me leave, lil’one.” — His strong accent keeps there, while he…whispers with your cat. He gets up and opens your wood creaky door with caution, giving a head nod to your cat and closing the door when he steps away.

It’s so hard to leave, to leave that warm, cozy, happy place. To meet his dark and cold home, he can only sigh with the thought. Why is it so hard to leave? Why is his heart throbbing? That’s stupid, he’s not a teenager anymore, he’s a grown ass man that can deal with his feelings, he thinks so. He’s only trying to fool himself into that idea, because he knows when he steps his foot inside his apartment, he will crave for the sound of your voice, your warmth and your damn smile, and mostly, your words. So well chosen like you know exactly what to say to make him fall. You’re clever enough for his rudeness. He knows you will be just below, living your life peacefully and he will get back to his miserable life, alone, with his bad thoughts. If only he was open to his own feelings, he would see how fucked up he is now. Already missing you and wanting to stay by your side. His delusional mind wanders to a life together, you would say him goodbye when he’s out for missions, calls him, send letters, and he would keep a photo of you on his pocket, only so when he’s not motivated, he looked at it and remembers why he’s there, to make you safe. He would come back to your arms and stay beside each other, you would see his face behind that balaclava and smile, knowing the real Simon, while he leaves Ghost on the job.

That’s when he comes back to earth, being on his balcony, his balaclava lifted up a little bit as he smokes, taking a puff of his cigarette and sending it back into the sky with a blow. The breeze makes him shiver even with his gear still on, and the thoughts consume himself.

—"I'm fucked up."— Simon realizes when his thoughts wanders too much. He tosses the cigarette on the floor, stepping on it as his raspy voice talks to himself. Going to bed at 6AM, and not even being able to sleep, because his heart decided to throb about someone he doesn’t even know well, his brain decides to play with his sanity once more. He can’t take this feeling growing inside of him, it’s weird. Simon stares at the ceiling, laying at bed, his hands caressing his chest as he feels pain inside, right on his heart. Not even his patched wound would hurt like this.

What is this feeling...is he...falling in love? You leave him in tatters. And even while he's thinking you're perfect, you still have your problems as well, he's not the only one broken, and he will discover this soon.

[katsukiizmoon]

♡ Sparring , dry humping, degradation, you’re in public?, the use of the word ‘bitch’, you cum on his thigh lol, unedited

♡ k.bkg + f!reader

Sparring with Katsuki takes a turn. You call him a bitch, tell him you’ll beat the brakes off him and wipe the floor with his smug face. And you do it just to watch his crumble.

It’s just fun to rile him up. Especially when there’s people around. He gets so worked up it’s funny.

His face heats as his eyes narrow and his chest puffs up with air. Pops fly from his palms and it doesn’t take long before he’s launching himself at you. A big hand grips your wrist. The other wrapping in your hair and pushing you down.

In seconds, you’re cheek is squished against the floor with your arms behind your back. Your wrists sit directly above your ass, meeting in the middle. A thick thigh slots between your thighs as the air is forced out of you all at once.

And you can hear his breathing, feel his thigh against your clothed pussy. Because you’re an idiot and didn’t let yourself fall. Your hips still high in the air, flimsy workout shorts doing nothing but making it worse.

Katsuki’s cock throbs in his pants at the sight and feel of you. The heat of your folds is squished up against his thigh and it’s his own damn fault.

You wiggle in his hold and it makes things worse. So, so much worse. Your core slides against his thigh and it makes your clit beg for more. Your workout shorts feel sticky.

“Who’s the bitch again?” He pants, determined to make a point.

Your pussy squeezes around nothing and your clit throbs. He slides his thigh back momentarily. There’s a damp area over your shorts when he looks down. A low groan leaves his lips and he, still determined, pushes his thigh back.

“Me—“ you breathe, hips shifting on instinct to get more friction, thighs trying to squeeze together. You fight it but it feels good. The heat in your belly pools and feels thick.

“Again.” Katsuki is unrelenting, but his grip in your hair relaxes. He quickly adjusts himself and prays to every god under the sun that you didn’t feel the weight of him against the back of your thigh.

“I— fuck- I am.” You grit, wiggling more and only making it worse. There’s a voice in your head telling you to stop moving before you cum. You ignore it, stupidly. Thinking he doesn’t notice.

He leans forward, right near your ear. The drag of your wet, sticky, covered pussy over his sweatpants isn’t nearly as subtle as you think it is. While you’re moving your arms a little to feign an attempt to escape, he knows you’re stronger than that. If you wanted out of his hold you would have lifted your back leg to kick him in the balls.

“You’re about to cum on my thigh, aren’t you?” Katsuki purrs, low and slow. Your hips freeze and your eyes widen.

“No.” A lie. You squeeze around nothing again and soak through your workout bottoms completely. You’re so close it hurts.

“Oh, I think you are.” His massive thigh pushes forward, sliding against your clit.

Your eyes roll back and you squirm in his grip. His hands around your wrists tighten, free hand pressing against your mouth so you aren’t to loud. His dick is so hard it fucking hurts. You finish with what feels like a heartbeat against his thigh, making the inside of your shorts even stickier than before.

Someone comes into the practice room— Eijirou. Saying something about a new game he bought, inviting the two of you over.

Katsuki grunts in response.

“Try again later, loser.” He pretends, ignoring the persistent matter in his sweats leaking precum.

He releases you and rolls you over, throwing his hoodie on top of your hips and thighs. You are a sight to behold. With Puffy lips, you try to catch your breath.

“Put it on, hurry the fuck up.” He grits, trying to cover the very obvious proof of your previous arousal before someone else sees

Eijirou approaches with a quirked brow “your… hoodie?”

“Loser hit her period.” He lies. You thank him in the back of your head a million times over and run off to the bathroom to change.

[jackfrostsisterssisterinlaw]

MHA random guys x Y/N

I am so sorry to the person who requested this over a year ago, I suddenly disappeared and forgot requests were a thing when I got back. This one’s a little rushed because I’m having exams these days but I’ve made you wait over a year so I had to get it done.

The random guys include Deku, Bakugou, Monoma, Shinso and Amajiki.

word count : 987

Warning : IF YOU SO MUCH AS LOOK AT AMAJIKI 🤬 I’ve got my eye on you.

as usual can’t take any credit for the pictures.

Deku 

Let’s be honest you probably don’t deserve him. No matter how much you do for him he’s going to somehow be doing more for you. It’s not that he treats love as a competition, it’s just that it’s in his nature to put his two hundred percent to everything and that includes his relationship. And if he chose you as the one that’s really something. He loves just staring at you and absorbing every single detail. He notices the smallest change in your appearance and can always tell when you’re feeling down. He hates it when you don’t communicate and share your pain and eventually manages to get it out of you by playing the victim. Try to give back at least 50% of what he’s doing for you because that would be a normal person’s 100%. He’s very possessive although he doesn’t tell you directly. He’s going to be super grumpy if you hang out with other people more than you spend time with him. Also here’s a secret. He loves it when you ruffle his hair and give him forehead kisses so keep doing what you’re doing :)

Bakugou

I don’t know how you did it. HOW DO YOU PUT UP WITH THE GUY? He appreciates you for it more than you know. He knows about his anger issues and how his inconsistency can make him a difficult person to love, but when he saw you loving him unconditionally and always being there, he realized what a difference that made in his life. It hurts his pride to tell you his problems and he finds it far easier to just burn the furniture but he really tries. He hasn’t been burning much furniture lately right? He’s opening up to you more and more every day and wants to become the same cushion for you. He wants you to be able to trust him as much as he trusts you. If another person looks at you for a second too long or makes you laugh, he is going to be jealous as hell. Trust me the moment he drops you home after a date or is out of your sight, he is going to track them down and give them the scariest warning in their life. It’ll be so scary they’ll refuse to see anyone in a romantic way anymore incase there are more bastards like Bakugou. He loves it when you try to be rough with him and that one time you pinned him against the wall..yeah I think he wants you to do it again.

Monoma

If you’re with Monoma that speaks a lot about you too. Because from a surface level I don’t think anyone can stand Monoma. He looks like he’s arrogant and obnoxious and gloats thinking he’s above everyone. His slicked hair and the way he sneers like he knows he’s good looking. There’s a lot of things to dislike. But you chose to stay and dug deeper. You were able to see the insecurities he tries to mask with his persona and the internal bruises he covers beneath his tuxedo. He adores you for knowing him so well and relies on you a lot. It’s sometimes hard for him because he hates depending on someone but you always comfort him and tell him that you’ve found your calling. He kisses you then, multiple times all around your face finally ending at your lips. Verbal affirmations aren’t really his thing because somehow stuff he says still comes out as self absorbed and arrogant. But with you by his side he’s improving every day. He gets really irritated when people hang around you but he tries to convince himself that you’ll be loyal and he doesn’t have to worry. He’s not stupid he hears what everyone says about how you could do better. But you chose him in the end and that’s what’s important.

Shinso

You like the silent mysterious type don’t you? Absolutely nothing wrong with that because he is a total green flag. To be honest I don’t think he knows exactly how to be romantic and sometimes his gestures of love can be a little weird. Like sometimes when he sees you in a crowd even if you smile and wave he’s just gonna stand there looking at you with no expression. He forgets he has a mouth and eyes that can be used to express one’s emotions. He also has no understanding of social cues so please bear with him. Also I’m sorry that your pickup lines hit a blank wall. Except that one time you made a star-wars pickup line and said yoda only one for me. You fell even harder for him when you realized he was a geek too and he fell harder because he finally understood all the nonsense you were yapping about and meant them romantically. Bear with him, I know he sucks at showing it but he really likes you. Have you seen the way he grits his teeth and glares if someone so much as looks at you. You like him being possessive don’t you? He loves it when you have deep conversations with him and he’ll listen to you talking endlessly.

Amajiki

LOOK AT MY POOKIE MWAH

I’m sorry but Amajiki is mine. Go find your own cinnamon roll. I’m gate keeping all his character traits and love languages. I’ll just word drop so that you get jealous.

He’s super depressed and moody if I leave him and talk to someone else.

The moment he sees me in a crowded room, he walks up to me and attaches himself to me and eventually convinces me to leave so that we can hang out together.

He’s biggest fear is actually losing me, he doesn’t mean that as a joke.

He loves it when I cuddle him and tell him how much I love him.

Which I do on a regular basis so back off. :3

[calaisreno]

An Arrangement

1200 words / Prompt: Hobby

Summary: Mycroft finds an ally

Mycroft Holmes regards the police officer who is sitting on the other side of the desk. Dark eyes, prematurely greying hair. Good at his job, recent promotion. A sense of humour (laugh lines), and an uncompromising commitment to honour. Maybe that’s not quite what it is. Honourable, yes, but it’s an inner sense of rightness, a gut feeling about people. Not impressed by power.

He wonders what DI Lestrade is thinking about the man he’s come to see without an appointment. 

“You’re here about my brother,” he says, sparing him the explanation. 

Lestrade nods. “I’ve seen him around, talked with him a few times. Last night—”

“Thank you.” Mycroft isn’t good at thanking people, not when thanks seem so inadequate. “I am truly grateful that you found him before… well, before more serious harm was done.”

Lestrade looks at him directly, openly, and Mycroft imagines this is the face he uses when interrogating a suspect. “You don’t know what to do with him.”

Surprised at the deduction, he responds. “I have taken some measures. It seems what I’ve attempted has not been successful, but I have the means to try other things.”

“What about your parents?”

“Our parents are not able to fully grasp the problem. Sherlock has always been… difficult. They have never understood him, and blame themselves for his problems. The matter elicits a great deal of emotion, and I have elected to be my brother’s keeper, so to speak, in order to spare them that ordeal.”

“Mr Holmes, I can’t claim to know Sherlock as well as you do, but I know a thing or two about addiction. The measures you’ve taken… well, nothing’s going to work until he’s ready to work on himself.”

Mycroft smiles grimly. “Mr Lestrade, I’m sure you’ve met many junkies in your line of work, but I’m equally sure you’ve never met anyone like Sherlock.”

“True enough. First time I met him he was high, stumbled on a crime scene I was investigating. It was like he had x-ray vision or something. Described exactly what had happened, pointed out where the murder weapon was, even suggested that the murderer was left-handed and had a limp. I didn’t dismiss him as a nut job because I could see it all— he was right.”

Mycroft’s smile is more genuine now. “My brother is several levels above any junkie you’ve met, Mr Lestrade. His problem is one he could solve, if he turned his mind to it. He resents my interference, however, and resists the measures I’ve taken. I will not give up on him, however long it takes. You need not feel responsible for Sherlock.” 

Lestrade stares down at his hands, which he holds clenched in his lap. When he speaks, his voice has lost something of the policeman. 

“Forgive me for speaking so freely. I know what it’s like to talk to someone on the phone, to say see you later, knowing that it might be the last thing you say to them. Guarding your words so you won’t sound bitter, won’t drive him away, when all you want to do is shake some sense into him, scream at him, lock him up until you can make him right.”

“Ah.” Mycroft leans back. “Your own brother.”

Lestrade smiles. “Five years younger than me, baby of the family. Our parents worked hard, and we did all right. All of us but Andy. I don’t know why. He was bright enough to do anything, be anything. We loved him, but something made him feel unloveable. It was never enough.”

“I’m sorry.” There really isn’t anything else to say when someone admits something so personal. This conversation is far more personal than he wants it to be. 

“I always take an interest in the addicts because of Andy. Maybe I can figure it out, save someone when I couldn’t do anything for him. Last time Sherlock and I spoke, I made him an offer, said I’d be willing to talk to him about homicide cases I’m working on, if he stays clean. He seemed to like that idea, said he might be a ‘consulting detective,’ the one I come to when I’m in over my head.”

Mycroft shakes his head slightly. “Sherlock is meant for something greater than police work, Mr Lestrade. I’m afraid you’ll find he quickly loses interest.”

“I don’t know, Mr Holmes. What police do matters. I’m not suggesting that Sherlock would make a good policeman. I saw a spark in him, though, one I hadn’t seen the other times we talked. Even if solving a crime is just an intellectual exercise to him, it might be the thing that keeps him from needing his next dose. That’s how you solve addiction, I think, one dose at a time.”

“That’s very simplistic.” Mycroft frowns now. “Believe me, I understand what rehab entails. And I know the success rates of most programmes.”

“True, there are a lot of failures. I don’t mean to suggest that I can cure him. You can’t cure an addict. But you can give them something else, something that absorbs them, even for a while. And maybe over time they’ll learn that there is something they want more than drugs.”

“You’re asking my permission,” Mycroft says. “I give it to you with conditions. First, you must not let him in simply to let him down. If you invite him to solve things, you will need to keep giving him things to solve. I’m not sure that’s feasible, but it is my condition. Do not treat him like a hobby.”

“I wouldn’t.” Lestrade looks at him solemnly. “I’m doing this because I think I can help him, and it would go against everything in me not to try.”

“I have another condition. You must check in with me and let me know if you see him slipping. Sherlock doesn’t see me often, doesn’t answer my calls. As I’ve said, he resents my efforts to help. You will recognise the signs. If he’s doing poorly, I want to know. I don’t care about confidences and trust between you and my brother. I must know if he is in danger.”

“I’m willing to do that.”

“Even if it involves lying to him?”

This gives the detective pause. “I want him to trust me, and lying to him would break that. I don’t want him to think I’m working for you. At the same time, I won’t pass along anything you say to me; our conversations will remain confidential.”

“In addition.” He sighs. “I am appalled that I must say this, but I would be remiss not to mention it. Do not use my brother. People have used him before, taken advantage of him. I’m not suggesting that you are the type of person who would do that. I don’t know you, Detective Inspector Lestrade. But if I ever learn that you have done such a thing—” He breaks off, giving him the humourless smile that explains more than words. “It would be very unfortunate.”

“Of course.” Lestrade looks sad. “I would never.”

“Very well, then.” 

He extends his hand. Lestrade takes it, gives it one shake, and nods. “You’ll be hearing from me.”

---

Shoutouts to everyone who is writing these! I'm so impressed 💕 Please keep writing your mini-epics, fluffy/angsty one-shots, hilarious AUs, limericks, and whatever else your brain comes up with. Please do tag people, and if you're posting on AO3 as well, consider adding to my MayPrompts2024 Collection. Much love to you all 💕

[hellfire--cult]

Baring Teeth {Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader} - Ch. 6

Picture for Banner: pitifulbaby

Chapters: Masterlist (Go here to see list of chapters.)

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Tropes: Enemies to Lovers, Non-Traditional Omegaverse, Slow burn, Modern!AU, Mechanic!Eddie

Warnings: Ab*se, Violence, Mental Health, Cursing, Smut (mild), treat it as a normal Enemies 2 Lovers book, but the A/B/O dynamic will appear at some point. Trauma, manipulation, dirty talk, omegaverse topics.

Crossposted on: Wattpad & AO3

A/N: All comments and reblogs help with the engagement, I appreciate every single one! ❤️I cannot thank you enough for all the follows and new people I met on here, you're all too sweet, and hopefully I can introduce you to this trope as soft as possible! Also, should I put this down as Mature category? Or do I just do that on the chapters that will contain one of the warnings above? I am new to posting on Tumblr, so I don't know how to do much of the interaction and engagement here!

Anyways, Enjoy!

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Chapter 6

“He’s not coming again?” You heard Nancy exclaim angrily as she took her phone out and started typing away with her fingers. You bit your lip nervously as you side eyed Robin and whispered to her.

“I can leave, I mean, I already had drinks with you guys yesterday–” Steve heard you from across the table and shook his head and then directed his head towards Nancy.

“He is a big boy. She seems to have bigger balls than him because she actually dares to face him after their fight.” A sense of pride surged in your chest, but honestly you dreaded Eddie's appearance. You could always ignore him, and that’s what you planned to do in case he did show up, but for the second night in a row, he didn’t, and you knew it was because of you.

“I know! That’s why I am trying to make him come down here!” Nancy spat as she stared at the phone and let out a loud scoff, slamming it face down, her eyes going directly to you. “You are not going anywhere, if he wants to be a baby, so be it.” You were actually surprised that Nancy was taking your side, as well as Steve, who were the closest with Eddie. 

“But, I mean, I can risk a night out–” And that’s when Robin stopped you from talking, swaying her beer around with a frown in her face.

“Don’t. He has to put the big boy panties on at some point.” You looked down at your beer and sighed, taking a sip of it. You were all sitting in the same booth as you always do, and the reason for going out for drinks two nights in a row, was because Jonathan was having anniversary happy hours. His bar opened two years ago, and he is celebrating with a full week of discounted drinks, which was getting him a really big clientele.

“Don’t think too much about it.” Steve says to you and Argyle nods next to him, taking a sip of his beer.

“Yah, that dude can be pretty hard headed when he wants to be. But he always comes around.” He says with a nod and you sigh, looking at him.

“Argy, sweetheart, I don’t know if you remember, but coming around this is not something I am hopeful for or want. We despise each other. I thought that was clear.” You said while looking at Argyle who was smirking while staring at you.

“There is a fine line in between Hate and Love, brochacha.” You winced at that, shaking your head at him.

“Hell no Argyle. The day Eddie Munson and I become friends, it’s because one of us lost their mind, or both.” You explain and it was Robin’s turn to roll her eyes with a giggle in her lips.

“Oh come on, everyone remembers your googly eyes at him when you first met him. Attraction never goes away.” As she was saying that you had the fantastic idea to take a sip out of your beer, only to be spat slightly at the word ‘Attraction’.

“Jesus!” Steve yelped, moving away to not get any beer on his polo shirt. 

“Sorry, Steve, but Robin, what the fuck?” You exclaimed, feeling a certain not in the pit of your stomach start to form. You did look at Eddie that night, it was hard not to, he just simply stuck out like a sore thumb out of the bunch.

“I think the two of you just need to fuck your hate away.” She said this time with another sip of her beer. You knew she was getting drunk now, but to say those things about a man who made your life a living hell the past year? It was too much. 

“I prefer to eat a raw unpeeled sea urchin than think of Munson’s dick, thank you very much.” You said taking a big sip out of your beer. You heard a big sigh on your side as Nancy put the phone down from her ear, and you knew that she listened to an audio message, probably from Eddie. 

Even if your friends were defending your honor basically, you couldn’t help but feel like a nuisance. You felt like you were a splinter, just poking and bothering whenever it pleases. You didn’t want the group to be on bad terms, even if you knew all of them saw Eddie outside these gatherings, you still couldn’t shake the feeling of him being cast aside because of your quarrel. 

Maybe tomorrow you can make up an excuse of not going out with your friends so that Eddie could take your place. Why do you even care about that douchebag? You know he wouldn’t give two shits about you if it were the other way around. 

But you know loneliness too well. So you can’t ignore it. 

Not even for Eddie Munson.

—-—————————————

You had your arms full of papers, walking down the hallways at your workplace, trying to reach your office. Robin had a terrible hangover today, which made you angry as hell because you had a deadline of bringing in your project next week, and you were feeling like you were handling it all by yourself.

“Fucking Robin, stupid alcohol, stupid happy hours–” You were so in your own little word that you didn’t see where you were going, nor the person you just rudely ran into, making your stack of papers fall to the ground. Your ass fell straight to the floor at impact, making you groan in pain, your eyes closed from wincing.

Great, what you needed. A stupid bruise, from someone that was stupidly in the middle of the way–

“Are you okay?” 

Your eyes immediately opened, registering the voice, and slowly looked up. Worried light blue irises were looking at you, inspecting your body as he crouched in front of you. The black leather pants made a creasing sound as he did, and you sucked in a breath when you saw the button up shirt he had on, which had all the buttons on his torso opened up. 

And dear god, he smelled divine.

“I– What?” You were awestruck, taken completely aback by his beauty as he frowned in confusion, tilting his head. Oh, you were making an idiot out of yourself, you had to snap out of it. You had to stop staring! You shook your head to concentrate once more, his words registering in your brain as a deep blush from embarrassment covered you from head to toe. “I– Uh, yeah, I just… Wasn’t looking where I was going.” You say shyly, recovering yourself, kneeling down on the floor to start picking up your papers. 

“No, no. It’s my fault too, I was just standing in the hallway… Got lost again.” You looked up from your papers to see Billy Hargrove smiling slightly at you. He remembers you. Oh god, he remembers you from last time, even if it was a small interaction.

“I should give you a map.” You say, wincing in your head at your poor choice of words, but he chuckled nonetheless and started helping you with the papers.

“Maybe…” He says and you bit your lips as you both got up, helping each other by grabbing your elbows. “Or you can be my guide.” He finished with a soft smirk on his lips. Your eyes slightly widened at that because, was this really happening? Is he flirting with you? Maybe he flirts with every girl he meets, he is a model, he knows he is good looking so of course he might be taking advantage of that.

If there’s anything your life taught you before, was to not be naive, no matter how good looking someone might be, how charming they can be. A pretty face can be a mask for so many lies and secrets that you don’t even want to figure out what it is. 

“Oh, but it’s so close. Just like last time, the floor above you is where you want to go.” He seemed taken aback by your response. Of course he was. Billy Hargrove was used to women becoming putty in his hands as soon as he said the word ‘Hi’ to them. He thought you were another one of those catches of course, by the way you smiled dumbly at him last time he met you. 

‘This one’s easy.’ He thought to himself that day. 

“Well, you see, last time I even got lost on that floor as well, this office is just too big.” He replied to you with a small tug on his face. You looked at the big pile of papers on your hands and back at him.

“I am a little busy at the moment Mr. Hargrove.” You tried to be as polite as possible, even if he was dressed casually, you weren’t even acquaintances. There was no need to call him by his name. He let out a chuckle at that, and you gulped at how manly it just sounded.

“Mr. Hargrove? I’m not a teenager, but I don’t go past my 30's, Doll.” Oh, the nickname made you shiver slightly. You were too weak for nicknames, and as you kept staring at his grin, you remembered how two days ago, you masturbated in his name. Because you imagined him, with you, touching every corner of your skin, pampering you, taking care of you, knowing what you want and what you need. Making you gasp, writhe, whimper and moan his name with every tap, lick, flick, pinch he did to you.

“My name is not doll Mr. Hargrove.” You replied to him, snapping out of your memories, walking past him to avoid him looking at your blush. He’ll certainly know he has you around his finger if you cave in, so you were simply trying to keep your distance. But it seemed someone else had other plans, following you down the hallway. You were wondering what he was up to, reaching your office to finally put down the heavy stack of papers on your desk with a relieved sigh.

“Ah.” He pointed at your door, and there it was, the plaque with your name. He said it with a raspy voice which simply etched itself in the deep of your gut and you won’t be able to ever forget it now. “Pretty name… Doll suits you better.” 

“And why is that?” You ask, crossing your arms over your chest and you notice it. Of course you did. The way his eyes went to your chest for just one second, because thanks to your arms, your breasts stuck out now, pushing them up. 

Billy never hooked up with a woman in an office outfit. Never imagined it either. Now, seeing you in front of him like that was making him discover a part of himself he didn’t know of, and that was, that he wanted to lift your skirt up, and fuck you right into the window glass that was in your office. 

“Because you’re pretty, like a doll.” It was a very corny line, you knew it, but you still shifted on your legs, clearing your throat, looking down at the pack of papers. 

“Well, thank you Mr. Hargrove. Like I said, one floor up– What are you doing?”

“You’re in charge of putting together my photos?” He was giving you his back, looking at the board that was in front of your desk. Pictures and texts were all stuck in various places, ideas that formed in your head for how the articles might look best, and eye catching. 

“It’s more than that. I have to make sure everything is detailed for possible investors in the brands you modeled.” He nodded in understanding at that, completely mesmerized at the work. He modeled of course, but he wasn’t the main focus of the articles this time. It was the clothes he was wearing. He looked at all the details she added, the texture, pattern, stitches of the clothing in various zoomed in pictures. 

“I didn’t know there was this much work behind my pictures.” You were looking at his back with a confused frown in your face. Talking like this with him, without knowing one another was weird but also soothing at the same time. He turned around with a smile on his face, looking down at his watch. “Oh, five minutes left for the meeting to start.” 

“Weren’t you running late already?” You said with a smile on your face, a small scoff coming out of your lips which made his eyes bright up at it. He doesn’t like chasing after girls, not at all, but something was drawing him to you, something that interested him for some reason. He walked over to your desk, putting his hands on it in order to lean forward towards you.

“I am not lost, Doll. Just wanted to know your name and maybe something else. A username maybe?” He asked with a smirk to his face and you felt your face heating up at how straightforward he was being. He was asking for your Instagram username. 

“A lie? Why’s that?”

“Let’s just say I was wishing to run into you again.” You bit your lip, deciding to play his game and put your hands on the desk, leaning forward as well, your face inches away from his. Your breaths mixed with one another’s and you felt it.

Tension. 

“Well, I don’t think there is time to give you my information. Your meeting starts right now.” He was looking at you, scanning your face and your features. He slowly said your name, a smirk in his lips as he inhaled your sweet perfume. 

“Cat and mouse, huh.” He said on the low, and your heart was going a mile per minute, butterflies exploding in your belly as he stared into your eyes, your soul, your heart, just everything. He leaned forward, even more, and you held your ground, even if you wanted to shrink away in embarrassment, or nervousness, you kept your head in place. His lips brushed against yours as he spoke once more.

“I can’t wait to catch you, little Mousy.” Your breath got caught in your throat. This guy, this model, this god sent man, who saw you twice in his life, was making you feel so desired, so wanted, so untouchable. He did something that you’ve been wanting someone to do for so long, for a year or more so. 

You just cannot believe it is him the one doing it. 

He pulled away from you with a soft chuckle, saying your name, bidding you goodbye, and leaving your office, closing the door behind him. His perfume lingered in the air, and you finally, finally, could breathe out properly. You held your chest, your hand feeling the rapid thumps that were bouncing under your skin. 

You gulped, feeling your throat completely dry after that exchange. Holy shit, you can’t wait to tell Robin. Oh, thank god Robin wasn’t here today, because she would have totally meddled and fucked that interaction over. 

You started pacing in your office, trying not to smile at how bravely and straightforward he was flirting with you, an office woman, someone totally different to what he is. You were no Kendall Jenner, his ex, or Gigi Hadid, but if someone like him looked at you the way he did today, it was alright to feel… hot. Sexy. Attractive. 

He was an ego booster, that’s for sure, and now you were expectant of your next encounter. Some small part of you was screaming because it was in need of sexual interaction, and it is yelling at you that you should have given your username, even if it was for a one night stand.

But the other part, the one that holds your dignity and pride, wanted to know how far you could go with this. A normal city guy for a one night stand, that’s okay, you don’t care, now when a model, a hot one at that, is bluntly flirting with you, yeah, you’re going to make a feast out of it.

As much as you could.

Because, it was just sex. Right?

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

End of chapter 6

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A/N: Please, comment or send me an ask if you desire to be put in the taglist ❤️

taglist: @enam3l @rainybakerypandaegg @katethetank @seatnights @oliskitten @bebe07011 @seventhlevelofhell @babez-a-licious

[thenighthekate]

Heyy, I love all you write!! Would you please write something with the song ‘without me’ by halsey, maybe one of them cheated on reader and now it’s trying to come back, but reader it’s playing hard to get, making them suffer a little. Thank you

Tell the truth ( t.k. )

Would you care if we quit talking? Would you care if I went walking? I need to know how you feel so I know how to deal.

The past few weeks she felt numb, angry, confused at the man who fucked her over. She never thought something like this was bound to happen, she thought they were happy together. Memories fade, anagapesis lingers, a love once cherished now lost in the rivers.

The environment around her buzzed with a sea of people, some dressed in suits rushing to get their coffee break, others sitting with families and friends at the tables. She was comfortably seated on the patio, sun shining above her as she sipped on her latte, her fingers wrapped around a pen scribbling in her notebook.

She felt calm. After days spent crying in the comfort of her own bed she finally got the courage to go out, breathe fresh air and possibly even socialize.

Her eyes were shielded by the glass of her sunglasses, her mind turning gears to make the words on her paper rhyme. The girl was focused on the task in front of her; she didn't even notice a shadow looming over her figure, the visibly tall person soon taking a seat at her table. Her eyes shifted from her notepad, a look of confusion forming on her face before it melted into nothing. No emotions were revealed as her eyebrow twitched to question the person.

Silence indulged the two as they stared at each other, the girl yet again slowly taking a sip of her coffee. " I haven't seen you in a while." His voice was oddly soft, laced with sweetness as it showed none of his true intentions. An uninterested sigh left her lips, her focus soon turning back to writing. " Look, I'm sorry. I don't know what-"

" Don't want to hear it." She dragged out her words with a fierce tone, like a mother grounding her disobedient child.

" No. Listen, it was a mistake and a total misunderstanding." He was slightly crouched, his eyes for a brief moment closing shut as he shook his head.

" So stealing my ideas, my lyrics, then fucking some other bitches is a misunderstanding to you?" Her finger wrapped around the brim of her sunglasses to slide them down, fire swirling in her irises as she shot daggers at him. Suddenly she placed the paper down along with her pen, Tom getting a clear view of everything she had written down. " You could be a bad mother fucker," she paused, looking him directly in the eye before continuing, " but that does not make you a man." Grabbing her stuff she slid out of her chair, standing tall on her high heels she was ready to disappear from his life forever.

It happened quickly, his hand reached out to wrap around her arm before her palm collided with his cheek, the loud sound and sensation traveling all over his body. " Don't touch me," her arm flailed out of his grip, her manicured finger pointed directly at her chest, " I put you up there, and you decided to abuse that power. It was me who made you what you are," her tone shifted, a shield of glass broken, replaced by glistening tears, " you used me."

" I'm sorry." Tom's expression matched hers, his eyes searching for her own. " Please. What can I do?"

Yet again it was quiet. She softly licked her lips while slowly shaking her head, her mind not believing what he was saying. " How about you tell the truth, to everyone. The guys and the media included." She turned to leave before muttering under her breath, but loud enough for him to hear. " And drop every single one of those bitches."