#you just know your face is going to hurt when you go outside

[choccorin]

thinking about living in the mountains with kento.

you’d wake up in peaceful mornings—no irritating sounds of beeping cars and road rage, just the faint singing of a few birds outside your shared bedroom window, the whirring of the electrical fan, and the soft clattering in the kitchen. the two of you love surprising each other with breakfast, though it’s mostly him because he wakes up earlier than you. each breakfast that he serves always comes with a few slices of bread, whether it be sourdough or even banana bread, whatever matches the dish he made that morning.

you’d spend the afternoon lying on the couch with him. your legs rested up on his lap while the both of you read two different books, occasionally chatting with the other on how the story’s going on in their book. did the main character finally confess their undying love to the love interest? or did the lost cat finally find its way back home? sometimes these catch-ups would go even longer until the two of you forget about the books you're reading and you make your way into the comfort of his warm embrace and take an afternoon nap.

the two of you would spend the evening making dinner, mostly him, though, again. he doesn't want your clumsiness to ruin the food or hurt yourself. you can just sit on the counter and watch him be the perfect house husband he was made for.

after eating dinner and washing the dishes, you two would go outside on the porch and sit on the swing that he personally made based on your request; you said that it would look great and would add character to the house. it’s also great when you want to spend time outside, may it be admiring the bustling trees or the midnight sky. and he couldn't agree more.

the view you get each night is certainly mesmerizing, better than the eye-sore-causing lights back in the city.

thirty minutes would go by before you pull him up and make him dance with you on the grass, barefoot. it’s not advised to dance without shoes outside, but who is he to deny the love of his life?

he pulls you close in between his arms, and as the both of you slow dance, he hums the two of you’s favorite song. you wrap your arms around his neck and place your head on his chest, feeling every vibration coming from it as he hums.

the both of you could dance barefoot on the grass for hours and never get sick of it, as long as you two are together. 

kento looks up at the star-filled sky and back at you, admiring every detail on your face—even in the dark. he pulls you even closer, wanting your body to sink into him, and plants a kiss on the crown of your head. a five-second long kiss that's filled with the affection he feels for you. you look up at him and give him the brightest smile, a smile that rivals the sun and stars.

and at that moment, kento thinks knows that he finally achieved his dream life. a peaceful life away from the crowded streets, and a house that’s filled with love, warmth, and solace, and he found it all from you.

[ifwdominicfike]

you try to get guitarist!matt to listen to one taylor swift song since he apparently “hates” her music

── .✦. ──

“matt im telling you, one song wouldn’t hurt you. or are you just too scared you’ll like it?” you felt the chillest breeze outside and decided to play folklore on repeat because who wouldn’t? anyway, matt was fed up with hearing about “some girl complaining about her failed relationships” but you couldn’t care less.

“sweetheart, it’s literally just the same song but about a different guy. she’s too overplayed i don’t get how you like that shit” he scoffs, making his way around the couch. “everyone says that though, you’ve only heard her pop songs that why — her other songs are masterpieces. all of her lyrics are basically me.” you sarcastically say — but not really.

as he sits down on the cushion you scoot your way over to him, laying your head on his shoulder. “pleaseee just one song? i promise you’ll like it, well hopefully i dont know.” you ask with a smile, he lets out a sigh and finally agrees. “yeah sure come on, show me this song then sweetheart.”

you now have the biggest smile on your face and get up from your comfortable position, and turn to make your way to your shared room to grab headphones “wait here” you excitedly say, as if he would vanish the second you were gone.

when you came back with the black bulky headphones he was already looking your way, smiling at your excited state. “this better be good if you’re this happy about this, if i don’t like the song and its some girly girl pop shit, m’clowning your ass for it.” he jokes when putting on the headphones and adjusting them, you were a little nervous — it was obviously something he would never in a million years listen to on his own but he always shows you his music so whats the worst that can happen ?

you figured why not something from your favorite album of hers, folklore. you were going through the tracklist trying to figure out which song until you were pulled out of your thoughts by matt groaning. “come on sweetheart, m’falling asleep over here” he fakes yawns and rubs at his eyes. “shush i have the song ready, now listen its my favorite!”

you click on the song and look up at him to watch his reaction, you obviously can’t hear the music but you already know how it goes “i’ve been having a hard time adjusting, i had the shiniest wheels now they’re rusting.”

as the song continues to play you can see matt swaying a little, you smile when you notice the amusement on his face. the bridge of the song starts up and he stops all movement, listening carefully as the lyrics spew into his ears. he looks over at you in disbelief, jaw dropped as the song now fades out and he’s slipping off the headphones.

“sweetheart thats you’re favorite song?” he says sniffling “well y-yeah? why is it bad?” you ask confused “no, not at all- s’just really fucking sad” he said chuckles before pulling you into a hug “if y’think thats sad then i need to show you more”

“her music s’not that bad i guess..” he says sarcastically “matt please- you were damn near crying i don’t wanna hear it.”

- avery’s note ˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆｡-

i love folklore. i AM folklore. anywayyy new blurb!!! im so happyyyy i finally finished ONE of my drafts 😭😭

wait omg i forgot to tag you @bluestriips ik you like guitarist!matt !!

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 - @ellaapsworld @chrissv4mp @jetaimevous @mattsbrowser @submattenthusiast @flouvela @sturniolosiphone @chrislova @sophand4n4 @mattsfavoritestar @mattslolita @y3sterdaysproblem @strnilolover @cayleeuhithinknott

[torturedlexdepartment]

Roadside Confessions

Rafe Cameron x fem reader

Author's note: super old fic but it's sweet..hope yall enjoy

Warnings: SMUT, possessive/jealous Rafe, protected car sex 🫠

Summary: your best friend Rafe steps in when a random guy tries to hit on you at a party

Rafe watched from across the room as the unworthy touron tried to make a move on you. He was trying so hard to be unaffected, however when he saw the look of discomfort on your face he lost all the restraint he had. He quickly made his way through a sea of people to get to you. You didn’t even notice Rafe until he put himself in between you and this guy.

“Get lost bud.” Rafe spits out.

“Excuse me? What’s your deal man?”

“The problem is that you’re flirting with my fucking girlfriend.” Your eyes went wide with the lie.

“Rafe.” You tried to protest and cut in but he gently pushed you back behind him.

“Woah woah man. Your girlfriend was the one acting like a slut and flirting with me.”

“You’d better watch your fucking mouth.” Rafe warned as he got right up in his face.

“Cut it out Rafe, just take me home okay.” You forced him to look at you and as soon as he saw how upset you were, he snapped out of his rage. He quickly grabbed your hand and led you outside to his truck.

The first part of your ride was silent as you stared out the window. Rafe looked over at you several times, pondering what to say. The last thing he wanted was to make you upset but his pent up feelings for you were slowly starting to bleed over your friendship.

“Look, I’m sorry, okay. That guy was an asshole.”

“And you don’t think I could handle it myself? I was doing just fine before you made a huge scene in front of everyone.” You spat.

“I could tell you were uncomfortable Y/N, I was just trying to help.”

“Yeah, well you’re not my fucking dad. I don’t know why you’ve been acting like this lately.” He growled at your words and immediately pulled his truck over onto the side of the road.

“Because you’ve been out here acting like you’re desperate for attention and I don’t want you to get hurt.” He nearly screamed at you from his place in the driver’s seat.

“You’re a douche!.” You shout at him as you attempt to exit his truck. He quickly grabs you by your arm, forcing your attention back to him. “Rafe-” You're cut off by his lips being roughly pressed to yours. You pull back quickly, completely taken by surprise. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Come on Y/N, do I really have to spell it out for you?” You sat there dumbfounded and silent for what seemed like forever. You looked at Rafe and then down at yourself. You never really saw yourself as someone he would want in that way.

“You could have any girl you wanted, Rafe, why would you bother with someone like me?”

“I don’t want any girl Y/N, I want you. Since we were kids.” You whip your head in his direction as the words leave his mouth, in utter disbelief.

“Why didn’t you ever say anything?”

“I don’t know. I should have. I thought I could keep it in but seeing that guy throwing himself at you set me off. I’m sorry.” He answers as he reaches for your hand.

You’re so overcome with emotion that you don’t stop to think before you’re climbing over the center console and straddling his lap, crashing your lips into his. He tries to speak but you kiss him and lean into him harder. His hand slides down the seat to push the seat back, giving you both more room to move.

You run your hands through his hair as his hand slips underneath the back of your shirt. Every little touch has your body wanting to erupt like fireworks. You never realized that you wanted him this bad, in this way. He moans into your mouth when you slip your tongue past his lips and it sets you off. Your hands go straight for his belt but he’s quick to pull away and stop you.

“Rafe.” You plead.

“Not here. Not like this.” He says softly but you aren’t having it. You roll your hips over him and the noise that falls from his lips only fuels you further.

“I thought you’ve wanted me your whole life? Are you really gonna tell me no right now?” You tease as you keep up your seductive movements. A low groan leaves his lips before he grabs you by the back of your neck, pulling you back into him as your lips fuse together again.

Your hands go back to his belt but this time he doesn’t stop you as you work to free him from his pants. You push your dripping panties to the side before helping him align himself with your entrance. He slips into you with ease and you both let out relieved whines of pleasure.

“Jesus Y/N!.” He growls as he fills you completely.

“You’re massive.” You breathlessly moan and he smirks before placing his hands on your hips to help you steady yourself. You lean down, taking his bottom lip in between your teeth biting gently as he starts pulling you down on him hard. You feel every ridge and vein of his cock as he perfectly caresses the inside of you.

You completely forget that you’re on the side of the road where anyone could see you. All you can think about is the fact that you’re fucking your best friend and how amazing he feels as you ride him. Your hand trails down your skirt to rub your clit and it’s mere seconds before your orgasm washes over you.

“So fucking beautiful.” Rafe growls as he keeps fucking up into you. He places tender kisses on the side of your neck as you come down. You can tell he’s trying hard not to dig his fingernails into your skin as he grows closer. “Shit, can I-“ he rasps but you cut him off.

“Yes, I’m on the pill.” You work to meet his thrusts, tugging at his hair as you feel him twitch. He releases inside of you with a groan and falls back against the seat, completely out of breath.

“Shit, I think I love you.” He pants and you smile.

“You think?” You tease as you lean in for a gentle kiss.

“Okay maybe I know.” He chuckles as you both work to right yourselves. As you make your way back over to the passenger seat you can feel his cum dripping down your leg and you smirk to yourself.

“Maybe I know too.” You whisper but you’re pretty sure he catches it as he smiles while pulling back onto the road.

[dubina-dawkins]

WINCHESTER'S PICKUP, INJURIES AND CLUMSY KISSES

~1k words

>you get hurt while hunting with your uncle, John Winchester and his son. Dean can't help but help.

pairing:teen! dean winchester x teen! reader

warnings/notes: basically a really tooth rotting fluff, first love and first kiss trope, vague descriptions of reader's past (like death of their family), few but subtle descriptions of injuries, john winchester mentioned (and i mean he's a real trigger so that's important), gn reader, no usage of y/n

REPOSTS WILL BE APPRECIATED

Minnesota. A werewolf hunt. Ordinary case-- boring, in a way. Just had to catch the bastard and shoot it through the heart with silver.

It seemed normal even to you, even though you weren't even an adult yet. Had to grow up early, huh? God, you hated that phrase. It sounded like you were feeling sorry for yourself. And self-pity is weak, very weak! At least that's what your uncle, the hunter who raised you since your family died in a vampire attack taught you.

And besides, you and your uncle weren't alone on this case, but with "family friends" - the Winchesters. Were they considered family friends if every time John needed help hunting and Dean was busy, your youngest son, Sam, was left at your and your uncle's house? Hell if I know! But at least you got a good memory of that family. And the older son's face, his cocky grin, his brilliant green eyes, his perfect nose and distinct freckles...it was all getting to your throat.

But damn it, it had to be some old, abandoned house. Protruding nails, scattered things, wood that left splinters in fingers - it would be dangerous here, even in daylight, without the risk of having your heart eaten...and when there was that risk, every step was tense.

Especially when the "hunted object" - you tried not to think of them as people, or else it became too hard to hunt - had run right into your path. The rumble of falling things, the pop of missed shots. This werewolf was physically strong and dexterous, so it was hard.

Like when he threw you into the wall and some protruding, crooked, rusty nail pierced your shoulder. It's okay, we've been through worse injuries, you'd think. Until Dean ran up to you, completely ignoring his father's scolding.

"Hey, are you okay? Ooh..." He seemed to swear, but it was quiet, a whisper he didn't want his father to hear. Dean sharply threw your arm, whose shoulder wasn't injured, over his neck and lifted you up, not listening to any of your complaints about not needing help.

"Dad's gonna kill you- sshhiit..." You hissed as he pressed his shirt, previously hanging over his black T-shirt, against your shoulder, treating the wound. The fabric was soaked with whiskey.

Hearing your sounds of pain, Dean lifts his emerald eyes from your wound to your face. His gaze is piteous, concerned, and his thick lashes glisten in the moonlight.

He was too handsome. Objectively, of course.

"Like the first time I'm going to get a punch from him... All right?" He squeezes your healthy shoulder in the palm of his hand, then puts his hand on the collar of your t-shirt, and...stops. "I... Can you slip your arm out of your sleeve?"

All his arrogance evaporated, there wasn't a particle of it in the air. And it was cute.

"You want me to take my clothes off? Pervert," you laugh, but your face immediately frowns as you raise your arm. Dean doesn't waste a second and starts helping you.

And God, the touch of his somehow warm fingers - there was a cool breeze outside, by the way - send shivers down your spine, making you dizzy. But you don't think about it. At least you're trying.

A low whimper escaped your lips as he tightened a piece of cloth, torn from your shirt and soaked in alcohol, on your wound. Maybe it wasn't unusual, but it still hurt.

"You're gonna stay here, you hear me? There's no way in hell you're going to go fight that big guy again right now. I won't let you," Dean said, glancing outside his dad's pickup window. His dad and your uncle were still in the house with a werewolf, apparently. You two could have been alone...for a little while. But of course that didn't excite you at all. You and Dean were just friends, right? Hunting bros. Nothing more.

And the fact that your gaze fell to his lips, then to his cheeks, covered with freckles, sharp cheekbones, ash-black long lashes, brilliant green eyes.... It meant nothing. At all.

"Whatever you say, sir," you quipped, rubbing the wound under the piece of cloth with your hand. Dean just gently pulled your hand away, "Don't make it worse for yourself, buddy." And oh, his tone is so gravelly. You're absolutely done.

But he won't let go of your hand. And you don't want to pull away.

His green eyes came up to your face, and he suddenly just froze, as if he couldn't look away. Dean stared at you as if you were the most brilliant and expensive gem, as if you were a living angel he hadn't believed in for a long time.... Like something unearthly. It would be foolish not to admit that you looked at him the same way.

Dean squeezed your hand lightly, and slowly - yes, very unusual for Dean Winchester to do something slowly - moved closer, but in a friendly way for now. In the same second, however, he remembered who he was, and his hand went up to your neck - still tentatively, of course... "Listen, buddy-..."

"Dean, please..."

And that did it. Dean's one word was enough for him to press his lips lightly against yours. He wasn't pushy, he wasn't rough, he didn't even let himself try to deepen the kiss. His lips only phantomly touched yours, guiding you, somehow even mentoring you, gently (still unusual for Dean Winchester himself!). His lips were matte, a little dry, but damn it, you liked it better than the sweetest meals of your life.

He pulls back, takes a deep breath and leans into you again. You're so cooked.

Dean can't help but marvel at your ineptitude at kissing- God, he could have sworn it made it the best kiss of his life. His lips move hotter, feistier, more needy, but still tentative, dipping down a little to leave a few quick nibbles on your chin and on your jaw--

Until you start hearing John and your uncle's voices outside. Oh, God, not now!

"Sorry, baby, sorry-" the nickname slides off his tongue so tenderly, lovingly, as he quickly pulls moves away from you.

Because after today, the chance of Winchester allowing you to see Dean earlier than after few months was close to zero.

a/n: i needed to think about little dean that haven't experienced hell already (on s4 currently yaaay). young jensen on header only because i can't think of teen dean looking as original cast actor for this role. and because i love young jensen. like really much. think im starting to get a lil' bit too much obsessed with dean

[unluckiestmember]

Could I request headcanons for Remy, Kurt, and Logan reacting to his shy GN s/o asking him if they can sit on his lap in private nervously please?

Coming right up!

Sitting on their lap: X-Men '97 Daddies X Reader

Characters: Remy LeBeau/Gambit, Kurt Wagner/Nightcrawler and Logan/Wolverine.

Warning: Some suggestive themes, but other than that, none. SFW.

A/N: Whose lap are you sitting on? I might sit on Gambit's, he seems like he'd have a balance between flirty and sweet.

Gambit

“Hey, Mon Cher! What are you thinking about in that pretty head of yours?… You want to sit on my lap? Well, then by all means! Make it your personal throne!”

When you first asked Remy if you could try sitting on his lap, he was a bit surprised. But of course he wasted no time opening himself up to you to take a seat. At first, he mainly kept his hands to himself but then when he could tell you were getting used to it, he wrapped his arm around your body and began to kiss along your cheek and your neck teasingly.

Sometimes he’ll use you sitting in his lap to flirt with you. Just to see if he can get your blood pumping, if you catch his drift. But most times, he’s just being a soft guy, rubbing his nose against your cheek, sneaking in some quick kisses along your lips and laying his head on your shoulder. Gambit will try to keep your antics on the low, but sometimes he just can’t help but hold you in public. You two are so cute the rest of the X-Men are sure they’ll get cavities just by looking at the cute display that is you and your boyfriend. Not that Remy cares- He’s too busy being on cloud nine with you so close to him!

Nightcrawler

“Was ist los, Sonnenblume?… Oh! Y-You want to sit on me? Um, I-I guess it wouldn’t hurt, no?”

Kurt was a bit hesitant when you first asked him to sit on his lap. He asked countlessly if you were sure of doing so before you could even try to sit next to him. After so much reassurance to the point you sounded like a broken record, he finally allowed you to sit on his lap. At first, it was awkward silence with the cute blue devil trying so hard to not lay his hands in any way onto you out of fear of being perceived as perverted or sexual. But as soon as you guide his hands to wrap around you, he just melts into you while you sit in the embrace of his arms.

Whenever you sit on his lap, he’ll always be shocked by the sudden action, but will immediately hold you close and just talk to you about his day if he’s not asking about your own. Sometimes he’ll find you ruffling his hair to make him ease up by laying his head onto your shoulder. In those moments, you find yourself appreciating the gentleness of your boyfriend, especially knowing you can make him relax after a long day of work.

Wolverine

“You wanna take a seat on my lap? Heh. Well who am I to say no? Get over here.”

Logan wasted no time grabbing you by your hand and guiding you onto his lap. His hands sat on your waist, watching your every move as you tried to avert your gaze from him to no avail. He loves when you sit against him because it’s always the perfect moment for him to make you blush a beet red at his sweet nothings being whispered into your ear. If he’s not using his voice to get you all riled up, he can rely on his thumbs brushing along your hips to do the trick.

Outside of his suggestive motives, sometimes he’ll just talk to you while you sit on his lap. Expect him to turn you around so you two are face to face and he can stare into your eyes and your fingers brush through his wild hair. Of course, there will be moments where Logan proceeds a makeout session with you sitting on him, whether you two are in private or not. He likes to make it known that you are his and vice versa because not only does he love to see Scott being pissed off by what he has, but he also likes to show you off as the precious jewel you are.

If you got any requests for X-Men '97, send them my way!

Likes and retweets are always appreciated! I love you all, stay hydrated and have a good day! <3

[homoroni]

°My Fav Comfort Fics°

Theodore Nott

The Softening Edge - your love language is touch and Theo usually loves it until someone makes fun of Theo for it. He ends up pushing you away until he realised how much of an idiot he’s been.

Written In The Stars

Whoopsie - You can't help your clumsiness, but when you land with a bruise on your face, you're reminded that your boyfriend, Theo really hates to see you hurt.

Pillowtalk - Theodore comes home to find you sleeping on the couch and picks you up, taking you to bed.

Beautiful People Beautiful Problems - Theo finds out you've been hiding something from him when he finds you in the bathroom in the middle of the night.

Pure Heart - You found Theo’s journal. Now, you don't know how to act around him.

Fights - Theo comes to you after a fight....again.

Not Even The Addressee - When Theodore's name gets misspelled he's not happy about it.

Flustered And Blushing - in which you're a flustered mess around Theo Nott and he absolutely adores it.

For The First Time - in which, the usual womaniser finds himself in love with a girl who doesn’t even know his name…

You Understand - Hogwarts students aren't exactly known for minding their own business. Thankfully, you and Theo speak a language they don't.

So This Is Love - there's a weird feeling that erupts in theo's chest whenever he looks at you and for the first time in his life his mind goes silent.

Jealousy - an unexpected situation catches you off guard in the heart of florence and your boyfriend reveals a side of him you’ve never seen before.

Baby, Won't You Be My Girl?

Oh Bella - 3 times the reader teases Theo’s Italian roots + 1 time she celebrates them.

Clingy Sleepy Boyfriend - Your boyfriend doesn't want to let you go, even if it's to pee.

Study Break - just theodore wanting kisses while you’re busy studying.

Withdrawal - Theo decides to quit smoking, but doesn't realise that his decision would affect his girlfriend, too. ♡

Taking What's Not Yours - in which you have a bad habit of taking your boyfriend's things.

Like Snow On The Beach - christmas is your absolute favorite time of the year! the tree, the lights, the music, the food . . . however, to you, the most important thing about christmas is spending it with your loved ones.

Shut Up Kiss Me

Crying In The Courtyard - you find something out about your crush.

Matteo Riddle

Breaking Point - Mattheo gets into too many fights and you have enough and call off your relationship. However you are still the only person that can get through to him.

For You - Mattheo gets into another fight with a new guy and when Professor McGonnagal surprisingly does not punish your boyfriend for it, you discover what she really thinks about your relationships.

Sleeping After An Argument - you decided not to sleep with him after an argument.

White Xmas - Mattheo comes to spend christmas with you and your family.

Puppy Eyes - your boyfriend suckered you into becoming an animagus with him, and knowing him it was probably to cause mischief.

Please, Please, Please - mattheo is your slightly toxic, slightly unhinged, but absolutely adoring and completely obsessed boyfriend.

Draco Malfoy

Busy Bee - you may have accidentally fallen asleep on Draco, but in your defense, he was really comfortable to sleep on! now, though, you're forced to face your feelings for him and do something about them.

Pretty Girl - although you're a hufflepuff, Draco can't seem to suppress his feelings for you and has been asking you out since third year

Buy Me Presents - Draco loves you, and you love him. he just needs a little push to make things official.

Mornings By His Side - Draco Malfoy was a dream, and being able to sleep with him was a dream come true.

Stiles Stilinski

Call Me Biles - Ever since you started dating Stiles, you've been calling him Biles and no one told you you were wrong.

Tired

Rainstorms - it’s the middle of the night and you wake up due to the heavy rainstorm outside, and after you get up, your boyfriend Stiles, can’t really sleep on his own.

Were Dating?

Others

"Oh Shit, Are You Crying?" - Tangerine accidentally hurts your feelings.

"Oh Shit Are You Crying?" - Your boyfriend makes you feel unloved in some stupid misunderstanding he quickly remedies.

Pretty Boy - everyone knew you had a thing for the boy who lived, everyone, that is, except for Harry Potter himself.

Lovers Rock - you find a strange creature in the streets of New York that happens to be Newt Scamander's.

My Absolute Favourites - ♡

My Period Comfort Masterlist

[hees-mine]

Say goodbye - L. Heeseung

Pairing: heeseung X fem reader

Warnings: mature content.

Genre: 18+, ex’s.

Word count: 3k+

-

Ten at night, you found yourself standing outside your ex’s apartment, an apartment you used to frequent on days off or when he planned dates for the two of you at his place, that used to be your second home, but you messed all of that up when you broke up with him seven months ago.

Thinking back now, you realize just how much of a mistake you made, but you were not in a good head space at the time. That being said, it still wasn’t a valid reason for you to dump him. He was the only person who kept all your little pieces together. Even when you were in tough times, he was able to make everything better. Heeseung was the most devoted boyfriend to you. He was your rock. He was literally your everything.

But at some point, you decided to hide your worries from him and keep them to yourself. You knew he’d always be there for you to help you through everything, but you didn’t want to burden him all the time with your issues.

Clearly, you weren’t thinking straight.

As time went on, it only got tougher on you, and hiding things just became the norm. There was a lot going on, and at that time, it was all just too much for you to handle, and you didn’t want to waste his time while you were still figuring things out.

He deserved someone who knew what they wanted and how to communicate what they wanted, not someone who easily changed with the wind and carried too much baggage. So you decided to call it quits with him so that he could find someone who was good for him because you were far from that.

But after these long seven months, you were regretting your decision to leave him. Hell, you didn’t even want to do it in the first place, but you thought it’d be best for you and him.

And that’s all you ever wanted, was the best for him.

He was clearly hurt and shocked when you told him those heartbreaking words, and the look of sadness and confusion on his face made your heart break into pieces.

And it broke into even tinier pieces when he tried everything to get you to change your mind.

“We can spend some time apart, but I’ll always be here for you.”

“I can give you some space.”

“Maybe a little break is all we need.”

He really didn’t want to lose you, but you had other plans, ones you thought would make his life and yours easier. If anything, it only made it worse. It took you too long to realize it months had already passed, and for all you know, he could have someone new by now.

You’d text him weekly, and he’d never respond. You’re surprised he hadn’t blocked you yet, but a tiny little piece of you was grateful that he didn’t cause just seeing that he left your messages on seen was enough for you to hold out an ounce of hope.

You saw him three times since the breakup to pick up all your things. You quietly entered his apartment, never sharing information about how you were feeling, nor did he, but he didn’t have to cause you could clearly see the animosity he held for you.

But who are you kidding? You broke up with him with no explanation other than you needing to sort things out. You’d be upset if someone left you like that, too. You realize how much of a shitty thing that was to do, and you’re so sorry for it.

All that being said you hoped he wouldn’t be too upset when he saw you standing outside his door this late at night.

You inhaled a deep breath and knocked on his door. Not even a minute later, you heard the latch click, and the door creaked open soon later, revealing your ex, the most handsome, sweet man you’ve ever seen in your entire life.

His eyes widened for a moment, surprised to see you there, but the shock quickly died down. The look of annoyance taking over his features was quite evident. “What are you doing here?” He asked, folding his arms over his chest and trying his best not to roll his eyes at that half-assed smile you gave him.

Read full story on patreon!

Posting more soon! Sorry for the inactivity🩵

[planetpedri]

Silver soul — Pedri González.

Pairing: Pedri González x Fem!Reader

Summary: When banter leads to an interesting chain of events.

Word count: 1.6k

Disclaimer/s: banter + fluff + light angst

A/N: i unfortunately did change the initial summary + plot but i’m too lazy to change the name

Annoyance seeped through your expression as your head turned to face Pedri’s. The two of you had been the last ones left outside when your friends has moved inside to do various things. You were expecting Pedri to leave along with them, wanting your moment of peace. Unfortunately, he was not going anywhere.

“You couldn’t possibly let me have any peace, could you?” Your eyes narrowed into slits as you shuffled in your seat, bringing your knees to your chest.

The fireplace casted a warm glow across the Tenerife man, making his face adorn a warm color that enunciated his features. You hated how good he looked, it make him so much harder to hate.

Pedri’s mouth forms a lazy grin. “What? You don’t appreciate my company?” He knew what to say to set you off, loving the way your face scrunched in annoyance.

“Not even in the slightest.”

His low chuckle made you even more agitated. He was so likable and charming that it pissed you off, not to mention how easy conversations seemed to flow with him. Every time you spoke, hours would pass without you even realizing.

Pedri leaned back in his chair, head tilted to the side as he looked at your stoic face as you watched the flames dance. “Ay, guapa.” His words catch your attention, your head snapping in his direction. [beautiful]

“Ay, cabezón.” You shoot back, refusing to give into his flirtatious compliment. [big head]

The raven haired man laughed, his head falling forward, shaking slightly. “Okay, I was being nice and you just want to hurt me.”

Your shoulders move up and down, shrugging. “When will you realize you flirting isn’t going to make me dislike you any less?” You tug at the corners of your blanket to lift them over your shoulders to grow more comfortable.

“You know what I think?” Pedri asks, his eyes never leaving you, not even when you give him a hard, challenging glare. “I think you secretly like it.”

A laugh of disbelief leaves your lips, “and what makes you think that?”

Grinning wider, Pedri leans over in his chair. His elbows prop up on the armrest and he holds his head up with his palms. “You may not realize it, but your lips twitch every time I do.”

“Do you ever shut up?”

Pedri shakes his head, “no…” He was about to get real risky with what he says next, “but you can try and make me.”

Oh! Right, right. Funny.

Your lips pull into a thin line, eyes darting around his face. Is he being serious right now? But Pedri doesn’t look like he’s joking, his stupid smirk was gone, a serious look overtaking his face. He was.

“And how do you suppose I do that?” You nervously—wait. Nervous? Why were you nervous? Your knee had began to bounce, something that you did whenever you got anxious and, or nervous.

You were not anxious right now.

Your breathing slowed when Pedri’s gaze fell to your lips. He doesn’t say anything, just hums. He knew exactly what he was doing and you shake your head.

“Yeah, no.” You cough, turning away from him to look at the fire again. Your face was burning and it wasn’t because of the heat from the fire.

Pedri cracked up, finding it ever so amusing how flustered you’d gotten. He never realized how easy it would be to get you riled up like that.

And just like that, you’d stopped talking to Pedri. Completely. And every second of it was hell. All you could think about was his beautiful brown eyes that had a strong orange hue, the way his hair fell so softly on his head, the way he smiled with his teeth. It was so frustrating.

Pedri felt your absence the first time you didn’t show up to a gathering. Even when you didn’t come to a home game. Even when you said you hated him, you showed up periodically every three games.

He texted you, you didn’t respond. He asked your friends about you, they simply gave a, ‘she’s busy’ in response, but he noticed the slight questioning in their tone—like they didn’t believe what they were saying.

So, at his whits end, he stood outside your door in the rain. Pounding on the oak wood door, he progressingly got harsher and harsher until you finally swung it open.

“What—oh.” You falter, stepping back in surprise. “Pedri.”

“Yeah, Pedri. The guy you’ve avoided like I had a disease or something?” He snapped tightly, his hands moving as he spoke in frustration. “Tell me what I did wrong!”

You were taken aback, to say the least. You didn’t think your absence would affect him this much. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” You answer quietly. “Are you cold?”

Pedri was befuddled. Cold? Was this your way of avoiding conversation? He was, of course. “What do you think? I’m drenched.”

“Come inside.” You step out of the way, motioning for him to come inside of your house.

Pedri’s mouth clamps shut. He strides inside and shrugs off his hoodie, leaving him clad in a white tee shirt that was still damp from the water that seeped through.

He’d never been to your house. It was exactly like he pictured. Neat, pops of color, random paraphernalia of the things you liked—yet subtle enough that nobody would know unless they liked those things or knew you well enough. It was all so.. you. He smiled a little.

“I can get you a blanket, coffee, tea? I don’t want you to get sick.” You were already moving toward the couch a few feet away, reaching for one.

Shaking his head, Pedri grips your arm, stopping you effectively. You glance back at him with furrowed eyebrows. “No. Stop stalling. Talk to me.”

Your eyes drift to his hand, ignoring the way his touch sent a bolt of electricity up your arm. “I have been busy. Not really feeling all the socializing. It’s not you.”

“Look me in the eyes and tell me it isn’t true.” Pedri demands, dropping his hand to give you the stage. His arms cross and he cocks his head to the side with a hard stare.

You play with the hem of your sleeve, reluctantly looking at him. “It’s not you.”

Confusion flashes across his face. “Then what is it?”

“It’s me!” You exclaim, rubbing your face. “It’s my complete and utter lack of ability to get you out of my head! It’s the way I can’t stop thinking about you! It is—“ You turn around and take a breath. “My head makes it so difficult to be around you.”

Pedri listens intently, ignoring his urge to reach out and shut you up. His heart races and his head pounds and God he just wanted to kiss you!

He says your name, softly. But you weren’t finished.

“—Not to mention, I want to forget you so bad and I can’t! You have always been annoying but it’s reaching an insufferable level!”

“Are you done?”

“Yes.”

“If you think this is one sided, you are dead wrong.” And that was all he had to say. He wasn’t going to waste your time and ramble about how deeply he felt your absence, or how he couldn’t sleep because your face was the last thing he pictured when he closes his eyes and he didn’t want it to go away.

Your mouth parts, your breath hitching in your throat. Words fail your tongue. When you can’t get anything out, your shoulders slump. Okay. Okay! This was good. Right?

He says your name again, snapping his fingers in your face. Blinking, you take a long breath, a slightly confused smile overtaking your lips. “Wow. Alright. Oh. Now what.”

“Now, I ask if I can have that blanket because I’m pretty fucking cold.” He says through a breathy laugh.

Your head dips when you chuckle, “yeah, yeah. You can sit on the couch. I’ll make you tea, too. You’ll probably catch a cold.”

You were so caring, even when you pretended you couldn’t stand him. You were caring all the time, Pedri supposed that was what he loved so much about you.

When you were back with the blanket and tea in hand, you plop down beside him. “I haven’t been busy. I’ve been miserable.” You confess, leaning your head back against the couch cushion with a loose smile.

“I’ve been miserable too.” Pedri admits, setting the mug aside and leans back as well. When he’s facing you, he takes the moment of silence to scan your face. Every small feature, he took in. Burned it into his brain.

Your stomach hurt with his examination because with it came the softest, most endearing smile. “Are you always going to creepy-stare at me? Or will this end after tonight?”

“Always.” Pedri shrugs, lifting his hand to cup your cheek, his thumb rubbing your soft skin. “Don’t do this to me again. Don’t make me have to get upset at you, I hated every second of it.”

You nod, your eyes fluttering shut to sink in his every touch. “Never again.”

“And—“

“Can I shut you up?”

The call back to the conversation that happened only weeks ago had Pedri laughing. “Yes.” Without another word, your lips pressed to his.

likes , comments , and reblog’s are all appreciated. lmk if you want to be tagged in future pedri posts.

ᝰ.ᐟ tags @halfwayhearted @sakashq @ar4ujos @joaoflms @gadriezmannsgirl @hrts4havertz @spidybaby @unx100to @st4rgirl-ellie

[archiveof22048]

there she goes | rin itoshi

sfw | fem!reader with she/her pronouns

there she goes again.

she passes by him, as she tends to do when she's helping out all the athletes on the field. she walks with a purpose, a quick gait, and it almost seems like she's marching. with one water bottle in her hand and a case holding five others, she's doing her best to hydrate everybody, making sure no one ends up passed out.

what he seems to notice before all else is her big smile, like she enjoys being here in blue lock. it's a kind smile paired with gentle eyes, and if he takes just a second longer to stare at your face he might in fact get completely lost in thought.

then, a water bottle appears before him.

"itoshi, water?"

there you are, standing right in front of him. he looks up at you from his place on the bench.

he takes the water, meekly. "... thanks," he says. "and i told you to call me rin."

while maintaining eye contact with him, you giggle as you reply, "ah, my bad. i'm a bit forgetful outside the field."

you then do something unexpected as he drinks his water– you lean down and grab the towel that rests around his neck. then, you gently pat dry his neck, jaw, and forehead. "you're getting a bit sweaty," you comment. "make sure you dry yourself off once in a while so your skin doesn't get irritated."

you smile at him, a beautiful, bashful one at that.

then, you continue your rounds with your quick stride and exclaim, irritatedly, "igarashi, are you trying to get yourself hurt? stop trying to dive on the turf, you already have a bunch of wounds that are healing on your knee! let me take a look at them!"

rin looks down at the grass.

maybe he'll play just a little bit more aggressively for the rest of practice.

he does so, unsurprisingly, yet unintentionally. he swears he was being careful as he was doing his shuttle runs across the field, but he catches a glimpse of you in his peripheral vision. he really wants to think you were watching him, but he can't be so sure. even so, he runs just a little bit faster. the persistent thought remains in his mind, it consumes him so, and he ends up face-down on the ground as he trips over his own feet.

immediately you rush over to him and set him on his side to keep him from choking on the blood of his epistaxis. in quick and concise movements, you plug up his nose with a cotton ball and you ask him, "are you okay? do you know where you are?"

no.

"yes."

in your arms.

"at blue lock."

you sigh in relief. thankfully, rin seems to be oriented. you sit him up and hold onto his shoulders as you tell him, "we're going to take you to the medic so you can rest. you haven't been playing well all day."

to anyone else, he would have popped a vein at that. but since it is you, all rin can do is resign and pull himself up.

as the two of you walk out the field, all of the blue lock eleven team along with the bench exchange odd glances at each other, as if they've come to a unanimous conclusion.

then, it is the two of you in the hallway. walking side by side. silently. alone.

"sorry..." you start. rin glances over at you, who is looking at the ground in discomfort.

he slows in pace, and you do the same. soon, you both come to a full stop, looking at each other.

"i didn't mean to say you weren't playing well, not in that way, at least," you clarify, clasping your hands together in sheepishness. "i usually am watching you, and you looked a little... distracted?"

rin takes a moment before he replies. you are usually watching him? you?

well, of course you are, he thinks to himself, you're the assistant medic for blue lock, after all. of anybody that should be kept in the most pristine, healthiest condition, it should be him. there is definitely no other reason that you should be keeping your eyes on him only.

though, as he quickly files through all of the interactions he's had with you in the few weeks that you've made yourself known in blue lock in his memory, they all seem to show the same thing– your gentle smile, your kind eyes, the soft touch of your hands. you are clearly nothing like he's ever known during his time at blue lock; you're someone who looks beyond his talent, someone who seeks for the humanness of rin itoshi.

for once, rin is rendered speechless, nor can he simply scoff and brush off your apology like it's nothing. he stares at you with slit eyes, trying to come up with a semblance of a reply.

so, he decides to be truthful.

"i was distracted."

"why?" you ask. "if there's something on your mind, we can talk about it. is it the upcoming game?"

rin hesitates. "no," is all he can say. how can he talk to you about what's on his mind, when you're the one distracting him in the first place?

"rin, i can't help you if you don't tell me what's wrong."

his gaze softens. whatever was tense in his body ultimately relaxes, and rin feels at ease.

"you called me rin," he says.

you let out a humored exhale, and you give him a bashful smile. "yes, i did call you rin. you told me to."

rin licks his lips out of habit and turns his gaze downward, towards the ground. for some reason, he can't look at you.

he feels like a boy, a child free of hatred and grudge.

what have you done to him?

[franki-lew-yo]

Mouthwashing and fandom discourse as a whole.

So I recently explored the tag for Mouthwashing after watching two no-commentary lets plays of the entire game. I'm seeing a lot of posts pointing out how annoying it is that this game has a fandom and that this fandom is doing fandom things and stanning/"uwu-ing" characters from this incredibly nuanced, raw and not-fandom friendly piece of art. To paraphrase someone I just saw "you don't want mouthwashing; you want Among Us ocs but darker". And

for a moment I wanna talk a bit about how I absolutely agree with this statement while also talk for a moment about how and why fandom and catharsis fan fics exist and shouldn't be shamed inherently. Or, I guess, not in theory.

The "come on! Stop trying to make everything shippable/cutsey/memey/have a happy AU and face unpleasant emotions someone's trying to tell you about!" is SUCH a vibe with me. I felt this way in the 9 fandom a lot as a kid and that was just 9. Mouthwashing is like 9 on bathsalts emotions and theme-wise. It's a game where you play as both the flawed but caring captain of a doomed ship who's life becomes a Johnny Got His Gun-nightmare, and also a deplorable, hateful piece of garbage who got himself and his friend in that nightmare situation to begin with. Both characters, moreso Jimmy but Curly too, are the causes of their own misery. They're complex dealing with one of the two committing SA and doing nothing really about it/dodging the responsibility and humanity needed to support the victim whom they've wronged.

I fully admit it's groan-inducing seeing people be shipped up Anya with anyone on the ship considering what happens to her. On a pure pr level I think it would be illegal even since romance between coworkers in a workplace is considered conflict of interest/harassment as it so often is. (NOT that what Jimmy did to Anya is 'romance'. I'm talking about the shipping of Anya with the other three guys. I know there's people out there who do ship Jimmy/Anya; you don't have to tell or show me I believe you and also I already hate it.) It's ALSO groan inducing to see people ship Curly and Jimmy considering all Curly does to him- and just the fact that this incredibly tragic, toxic one-way-gone array friendship is reduced to "toxic yaoi teehee". It's annoying AT BEST.

I get the hostility towards fandom-tastic stanning and fandom behavior in general...the issue is it's still hostility and I wish some of you guys got that. Like it or not (you don't have to like it) fandom culture is inevitable to some degree. You can and should complain about your hangups but that's all you can do besides avoiding tags and just not engaging with that side of the fandom at some point. Save your call-outs and rage for when you see active deplorable bs being committed that people are excusing for dumb fandom reasons, like lolicon, hatespeech or harassment. I'm sorry but you can not actively go after and try and take down the innocent people involved in your trigger that aren't directly hurting you by liking the thing that triggers you; ie. people who get all shipping and fandom-brained about Mouthwashing's characters which you find offensive to do at all.

This type of convo is the crux of most 'antifandom' v profandom discourse in general; for Antis I think there ought to be a difference between the people that set you off bcuz of fandom nonsense vs sociopathic 'got mine'-creepiness. There's a difference between someone who draws r34 v Shadbase. For profandom types you out to face the fact that yes- maybe NOT EVERYTHING is meant to be shippable/memed. Maybe try practicing that a bit. Yeah it's most harmless and makes you feel happy, but considering how people outside of your hyperfixation-of-a-hyperfixation is a thing. The thing about the "don't like, don't read" argument is it goes both ways. If you're truly a "good fan" like you say you are than you have to realize that people will not like your problematicisms. Learn to interact with characters and stories without the possibility of shipping sometimes- or at least understand that that's the crux of what makes a story like Mouthwashing engaging, even if you also partake in the fandumb and AUs on the side. You can call Curly your babygirl and ship him or make him happy all you want but PLEASE acoknowledge that the game doesn't woobify him or excuse what he did to Anya as well. You can make some kind of AU scenario where Jimmy gets out somehow and becomes/is a slightly better person for all I care...so long as you PLEASE remember that he is canonically a r@pist and awful. Also, even if I'm okay with your fan decisions, note that myself and others are still going to be critical and be upset that you wrote it at all because of what kind of character Jimmy is. 'Critical' =/= declaring something evil.

Fandom behaviors are not souly a destructive parasocial outcome of brainrot; they're also a natural reaction to what happens canonically and the emotions you have to experiencing a story. It's normal and rational to sympathize and love Curly and despise and hate Jimmy. You can love/like/enjoy a problematic-to-DEEPLY DISTURBED-character based on their complexity in canon. They are fiction. They are not real. The reason you are so invested with them is because of that complexity and yes because they are fiction they are your 'toy' and you can doll them up in any kind of speculative AU crap you make. That's fanfiction, baby. Make yourself a fixit fic if you really want

BUT-

remember: it stays as a fixit fic. DO NOT cross the streams, or insist that your active misreading of the text is the same as the text itself. EVER. You should care about your special interest's escapism as a means of self-care. What you shouldn't do is demand that EVERYONE ELSE LOVE your coping mechanism and that any complaints by people on their own terms on their own blogs is #badfaith or an inherent attack against you. It isn't. You'll know when it is an attack against you and that's when you, the profandom-type, need to be prepared and save your call-out posts and blocklist for.

To me that's the fragility to fandom debates and fandom as a whole. You can not/should not police or control an entire group of people and how they perceive or interact with media. That's not fair and it's definitely not sporting or decent of you in a community. You have to share your community -your fandom- with people who hate ur fav and people who love your least fav. Agreeing to disagree means not tagging your nOTP as their shipname or by tagging your shipname loud and clear. It means filtering out posts with those topics but enjoying and/or reblogging the fandom takes you do share with your fellow fandom-mite that obviously posts abt those topics.

When schmit REALLY goes down and some assface reviewer/fan/SOMETHING is being an assface or doing something amoral under the guise of fandom-ing, that's where you out to put your foot down. Callouts and complaints are for people who did an egregious thing and refuse to take responsibility(lol) for it. They're not for "soandso likes the thing that triggers me, kill them"/"so and so is hating on the thing I'm kinning because it triggers them, kill them". Be an adult.

Your DNI lists should consist of "lolicon defenders" not "proshippers", as those ARE NOT one in the same. Same goes the other way around. List off "bigots, purity culture bs", not "antis and critics". These positions ARE NOT interchangeable. If you make them interchangeable than you're making things a lot harder for yourself.

-sincerely, a message from autistic ADHD/OCD woman who likes horror and media analysis as much as she loves popcorn fanfic schlock.

We don't all have to be friends and buddybuds. I just hate us hurting each other over being different kind of fandom-folk rather than for when someone sincerely mucks up and does something bad. Can't we all stick to our guns and just boycott Harry Potter like god intended?

[frogs-crackcorner]

An Angel All My Own P-3

Simon Riley x reader

Cw: nightmares, fluff

The hallway is dark as you sprint down it. Your lungs burn but you can't stop. Screams echo down the corridor. You have to get away. You can feel the creature gaining on you. The screams get louder. You're running as fast as you can but you're still not fast enough. The thing claws at the back of your neck.

You jolt up in bed, scanning the dark room. Everything is exactly as you left it before falling asleep. There are no monsters. No need to run. It was all just a dream. Except, the screaming hasn't stopped. In fact, it was getting louder. You leap out of bed and rush downstairs, flipping on lights as you go. You stop just outside the guest bedroom door. Should you really go in? What if he wasn't really in trouble? What if he was mad that you woke him up? What if he slept naked?

You decide to take the chance. You swing the door open, hurrying over to the bed. Ghost thrashes on the bed, blood curdling screams pouring from his open mouth.

"Ghost! Wake up! Ghost, please," you beg, shaking him as hard as you could. Ghosts eyes snap open as his hand shoots out to grab yours. His eyes are cold. His grip on your wrist begins to hurt.

"Ghost, please. You're hurting me," you whisper. You try to tug your wrist back but he's too strong. Much stronger than you. This was a bad idea. You never should come down here, never should have let him stay. Something in Ghosts eyes changes. Like a switch was flipped. He drops your wrist before sitting up and hanging his head. He runs a hand over his face before sighing.

"Are you okay? I'm sorry if I hurt you. And I'm sorry I woke you up, love. I just," he trails off, "I was hoping tonight would be different. I was hoping they wouldn't come back."

Even with his head down, you can see tears collecting in his lashes. This must happen a lot. You wonder what nightmares could be so terrible that a man like him woke up screaming. You're not sure you want to know. Trying to sleep must be hell for him. Who knows when the last time he felt safe enough to get decent sleep was. Your heart breaks for him. Before you can stop yourself, you're reaching out your hand and scratching the back of his neck.

"I don't know what you see in your nightmares. I don't know why you decided to stay here. I barely know you to be honest. But I do know that I'm going to be here. I'll be here as long or as little as you'd like. But I'm not leaving until you tell me you're okay. Okay?," you hum. Ghost is tense under your touch. His eyes dart between you and his lap. He swallows hard and you feel him relax a little. His body still shakes, maybe from adrenaline or maybe from fear.

"You don't have to do that. I'll be fine," he mutters.

"Too bad. Scoot over," you command. You're not sure when you got so bold. Ordering a strange man to share his bed with you. But you didn't really care. As tough as he looked, you could tell he was struggling. You knew he was only putting on a brave face for others. Ghost stares at you for a moment before sliding over. You climb on to the bed and tuck your legs up. You gently pull Ghost's head towards you. He tenses again for a second before letting you guide his head to your chest.

You adjust your hand and begin running your nails along his scalp. Ghost lets out a shuddering breath. His eyes flutter shut. You can't help but chuckle softly. He opens one eye and glances at you. "Sorry. But it's the first time I've seen you actually relax. It's nice," you smile. Ghost closes his eyes again and nods.

"It is," he agrees.

It goes quiet after that. You can feel Ghost's breathing get deeper and he lets out quiet snores. It was nice to see him get some real sleep, even if you had only just met him. You're not sure how long you had been down here with him but you decide it's probably time to get back to your own bed.

You gently shift your shoulder, trying not to let Ghost's head fall. You really don't want to wake him up when he was just getting some decent sleep. You scoot a little more. You're almost free. Ghost moves and you freeze. He readjusts his position, turning on his side slightly. His arm slides around your waist and pulls back into him. There is no getting out now. You huff a little. You need to be up early in the morning and that's not happening if you don't get any sleep. It's probably almost 3 am by now. Your eyes are heavy and you're blinking slowly.

You wiggle a little in Ghost's arms, whether to get out or to get comfortable you're not entirely sure. He's so warm and you're so tired. Maybe you could just stay here a little longer.

Taglist: @smileykiddie08 @iminlovewithjasontodd

[httpskuzuu]

It can't hurt you now

I wrote this while in spain we were in red alert for rain.

Yandere!Chuuya x Reader

I don't now english, let me cry

summary: it's a stormy night and you couldn't be more scared.

tw: idk rain¿ kidnapping, panic attack (maybe)

The rain was pouring down heavily, drowning out the noise of the television. By now you couldn't hear what the announcer of that cheap program was saying.

In spite of everything, you decided to just focus on the images that appeared on the screen, trying to forget what was happening outside. A storm. You felt like a bit of an idiot for being afraid of something like that, not that it could do anything to you, at most, in some cases, flood the streets, but you “live” in Chuuya's attic, so that's not really a problem.

Just this once you are grateful to be locked up here, in a safe place.

A particularly loud clap of thunder completely broke your attention to anything else. You were scared and you couldn't help it, your brain refusing to pay any attention to the TV even though you begged it to. You covered your ears with your hands, trembling as if this was the end of the world, but what if it is?

Slight sobs came from your lips, thanks to them you realized that you had been crying. You don't quite know what you should do, how to stop crying or shaking, until you hear a door opening.

From here Chuuya appears, with an expression still asleep. He makes you look up with a strange gleam in your eyes, was it fear? happiness? You are not sure, although you prefer it to remain unknown. You have enough guilt for the fact that you don't hate him.

Apparently he finally noticed you leaving the bed at midnight, replacing your figure in his arms with a pillow. The feeling of fear settles in your stomach, you didn't want him to be angry, your intention was not to disobey by doing that act. If he took away your earned privileges now, like the TV, the books, your sketchbook, what would you do? This whole week is forecast in heavy rains and storms, no distractions and with a punishment you swear you will die.

“What are you doing here?” his tone conveyed weariness. You remove your hands from your head and look at him with teary eyes. You're supposed to tell him the truth, but you don't really feel like going through the humiliation of saying you're afraid of a little (a lot) of rain.

“Nothing, I couldn't sleep.” It wasn't entirely a lie, the reason for your insomnia that night was the loud noises outside. You thought that if you slept maybe the rain might kill you or some shit like that. Now, come to think of it, that idea was pretty stupid.

A clap of thunder, without warning, fell loudly, causing you to flinch like a frightened animal. A trembling sob escaped your lips, as you tried with all your might to relax and wipe away your tears.

“Hey baby, what's wrong?” Now Chuuya looks wide awake, coming up to you to hold your face in his hands. They were so warm, contrasting with your icy cheeks, you couldn't control the fact that you leaned on them almost unconsciously.

A little comfort now wouldn't hurt, especially in your near panic-stricken state.

The rain intensified even more, as did the trembling in your limbs and your uncontrolled tears. Without much thought, you threw yourself towards Chuuya, embracing him as if your life depended on it. Actually, in your frightened mind, it did.

“So you're afraid of storms, huh?” you were inwardly glad that Chuuya didn't seem annoyed by your stay in the living room, nor mocked by your fear.

Chuuya was always understanding despite his tough temperament, he was especially so with you, giving you all his patience and love even though you rejected him. This is like an opportunity for him to show you that he really loves you more than anyone else will. In spite of that, he hesitates a bit whether to comfort you or leave you lying in panic. Did you deserve his sympathy when you kept walking away from his side? Chuuya decided to ignore that little voice in his mind, he only had to listen to your stifled crying to feel guilty for thinking that.

A soft kiss is placed on the crown of your head. Chuuya strokes your back affectionately and says things to relax you. Finally, just like the rain, your tears stop, and you can lift your head from the man's chest without so much embarrassment.

Now, as you look into his sympathetic eyes, you feel humiliated. You've just let your kidnapper comfort you, plus it was out of a senseless fear. If your fear had been founded, maybe you wouldn't feel so bad. Still, there is a grateful feeling, hidden deep inside you, but there it is.

“Better?” You nod, avoiding her gaze like the plague. “Then let's go back to bed, okay, baby?”

You didn't put up any impediments when Chuuya guided you to the room, the truth is that all that panic exhausted you like never before. You didn't understand why crying was so tiring, but when you lay down on the bed you almost fell asleep in a second if it wasn't for Chuuya.

He gets your attention by putting some earplugs in your ears, carefully so as not to hurt you. Sometimes you didn't understand how he could be so sweet to you in spite of everything, but you were happy about it, you really were.

“Thank you.” Your voice sounds smaller than you'd like, but Chuuya smiles at your words. It's not a smirk or a wicked smile, it seems simply… warm, loving.

You feel strange about your feelings, especially when you feel your cheeks burning. Chuuya kisses your already dry cheek and lies down next to you on the bed, hugging you from behind and stroking your hair.

You could get used to this.

[straylightdream]

getaway car • coming soon

𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭: hansol vernon chwe x f.reader

↳ The ties were black, the lies were white. In shades of gray in candlelight. I wanted to leave him. I needed a reason.

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: soulmate au??, neighbors to lovers, non idol au

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.8k and counting

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: mc boyfriend is a jerk, the mc ex is physically cheating, mc is emotional cheating, protected sex, starting to have sex in the shower, lots of emotions

an: this was inspired by the song getaway car by taylor swift. This another one of my stories inspired by reputation songs. This can be read as a one shot but these guys and there friends are mention in a series of loosely connected stories called all for you

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PREVIEW

Opening your phone you hit Vernon contact. Holding your phone to your ear it rings about five times before he answers the phone.

“Is everything okay?” It’s rare you call him let alone in the middle of the night.

“Not really. I’m outside, can you let me in,” you start to cry again.

“Yeah.”

Moments later he opens the door quickly. He’s just in a pair of boxer briefs. He must have been in bed already.

“I’m sorry,” you say as tears slide down your cheek.

He doesn’t say anything. He takes your hand leading you into his apartment he shares with Chan and Seokmin.

He shut the door, locking it. He hesitates for a moment before he rests his hand on your cheek and gently wipes away your tears.

“I told him I’m done. He came home after midnight with lipstick stained on his collar. I don’t wanna do this anymore. He doesn’t love me and I can’t love him anymore. I don't love him anymore.” You lean into his touch.

“I’m glad you left him. He doesn’t deserve you.”

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. You’re sorry for so many things. You know he cares for you and that he probably has always romantically liked you for a while just like you have. And no matter what you do you hurt him in one way or another.

“Stop saying that. You have nothing to apologize to me for.” He gives you a gentle smile.

“Can we go to your room? I don’t want to bother the boys. It’s already so late and I already woke you up.”

Reaching down he takes your hand in his for the first time and leads you to his room. He shuts the door and releases your hand. “Would you mind if I stayed with you tonight?”

“Of course you can stay here.” You’ve never been so happy you stormed out of the house in your pajamas. “Did you want me to take the couch?”

“No, I was hoping I could sleep in your bed with you. I just really want to hold your hand.”

He can’t help the smile that tugs on his lips. You crawl under the covers and watch as Vernon turns the light on and crawls into bed next to you. You both lay there facing each other. There is a gap between you. Laying your hand there you want to be close to him. You want him to hold you and to kiss you and tell you you’ll be okay. But that is too much to ask of him.

There is always something about Vernon that he’s always been able to read you. He must notice you’re struggling. He reaches out, taking your hand in his.

“I don’t want to go back to my apartment. I don’t want to live in a building that is haunted with memories of him and I.”

He takes a deep breath squeezing your hand. “You don’t have to. I’ll help you pack your things when he’s gone to work.”

READ THE FULL STORY HERE

[vodika-vibes]

Things Unsaid

Summary: You’re a lighthouse keeper. A job inherited from your father, who inherited it from his mother. In fact, your family has been tending to the lighthouse since the day it was built all those years ago. Your friends don’t understand why you’re so comfortable being so alone…and you’re not sure how to explain that you’ve never been alone a day in your life.

Pairing: Dragon! Commander Monnk x GN!Reader

Word Count: 767

Warnings: None

A/N: I said I wasn't going to write today, but I wanted to try and so this was born. It's not very long, or very good, and I hurt even more now than I did when I woke up.

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The storm rages outside your home beneath the lighthouse. The rain falls in sheets, and thunder rumbles across the cliffs every 3 minutes. Lightning lights up the sky every so often, sometimes accompanied with the bone rattling crack of lightning striking something.

You don’t mind the storm.

You’re safe in your home, and above you the lighthouse shines its beam of light over the ocean, marking the location of shore for any ship unlucky enough to still be out there.

You settle on the window seat, a warm mug of tea cradled between your hands, as you watch the rain pound against the window. 

It is hard to see anything outside, with how dark it is even with the lighthouse shining brightly above you, but if you look closely, you can see something large flying within the clouds. 

Of course, you can only see it when the lightning lights up the sky. 

You track the large creature in the clouds with each crack of lightning, and you set your mug of tea down on a side table as the large creature dives down into the ocean.

You’re only able to catch a minor glimpse of the creature, large and covered in dark blue and yellow scales, as it dives into the ocean, but a small smile lifts your lips as you stand and walk over to the bathroom to pull out some towels, which you then lay on a table next to the side door.

You unlatch the side door, and pull it open, before you step onto the porch, protected from the severe weather only because the porch is closed in. And you watch as the large creature emerges from the ocean and flies over to your home. 

The creature, a dragon, lands on the other side of your garden, and you lean against the door frame as the large dragon approaches your home, his form twisting in shifting, until a handsome man with long bleached hair is strolling down the cobblestone path.

“Did you have fun?” You ask, your voice light as he pulls open the door to the covered porch and accepts the towel you offer him.

“Always,” He tosses the towel over his hair and squeezes some of the water out, “The storm is going to last the rest of the night.” He adds as he pulls his hair into a low tail, and hangs the towel around his neck.

“That’s alright, we need the rain.”

Monnk, the man standing in front of you, is a dragon. Just like all of his people. He’s been here since the lighthouse was built, though he’s only shown his human form in the years that you’ve been in charge of the lighthouse. 

He says it’s because you’re the first lighthouse keeper he trusts, but you’re not stupid. You see the way he looks at you.

The same look he’s directing at you right now, in fact. Warm and soft, a look that you would call pining, if he weren’t an ancient dragon.

“I have food in the oven for you,” You say as you step closer to him, and you see the way his dark eyes drop to your lips, and the way his fingers twitch (you’ve always been so observant when it comes to him), “And there’s tea as well.”

The smile he directs at you is so adoring, that you have to avert your gaze, “What would I do without you?”

“Smell like rotten fish, probably.” You joke as you turn to head back inside, though you pause and toss him a warm smile over your shoulder, “Welcome home, Monnk.”

He trails behind you, a lopsided grin on his face, “Glad to be back,”

You know that you’re not deserving of his affection. You’re not very nice, you’re kind of petty, and you’re quick to anger when pushed. Not to mention, you’re something of a loner, and you’re genuinely happy living so far away from everyone.

But Monnk seems to find you perfect the way you are. 

As he presses a feather light kiss against the back of your neck once he’s out of the shower and wearing dry clothes, you can’t help but think that this isn’t such a bad way to live.

He hasn’t told you that he loves you. But then, he doesn’t have to. He tells you in every touch of his fingers against your skin, in every way that he looks at you, and in every touch of his lips against you.

But then, you haven’t told him that you loved him either. So you suppose it’s all fair.

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[caplanbuckybarnes]

There's Nothing Left of Me (Yet I Still Keep on Giving) (jason todd)

Summary: you beg Jason to let you help him.

Warnings: angst

WC: 626

Read on Ao3!

--

The rain hammered against the windows of Jason's apartment, filling the suffocating silence between you with dread and weariness. The city’s neon glow barely penetrated the gloom, casting faint streaks of red and blue across the walls between the slivers of torn curtains. You stood by the kitchen counter, arms wrapped around yourself as if that could hold you together. Jason was leaning against the couch, his head tilted back, a cigarette dangling forgotten between his fingers, the embers falling pitifully to the ground.

“I didn’t ask you to come here.” His voice was low, hoarse, but it cut through the room like a blade.

You flinched but didn’t move. “I know.”

Jason let out a humorless laugh, the sound grating in your ears. “Then why are you still here?”

You swallowed hard, your nails biting into your arms. “Because someone has to be.”

He stood abruptly, the cigarette falling to the floor as he raked a hand through his damp hair. “I’m not your charity case, Y/N. You don’t need to save me.”

“I’m not trying to save you!” The words came out louder than you intended, your voice breaking under the weight of your emotions. “I just—Jason, I just want to help, please.”

He turned to face you then, his expression a volatile mix of anger and despair. His leather jacket hung off his broad shoulders, worn and frayed like the man himself. “You can’t help me. You don’t get it. There’s nothing left of me. Nothing worth saving., not for a long time now.”

The raw vulnerability in his words made your chest ache. “That’s not true.”

“Yes, it is!” He took a step closer, his fists clenched at his sides. “Every time I try to be better, try to make something out of this mess I’ve become, all I do is hurt the people around me. I have nothing left to give, Y/N. So why the hell are you still here? Why are you wasting your time being here? I don't want the help!”

You hesitated, tears stinging your eyes as you struggled to find the right words. “Because I see you, Jason. I see the man who fights for people who can’t fight for themselves. The man who’s been through hell and still stands, even when it would be easier to give up. You may think there’s nothing left of you, but I see everything you are. And I’m not going anywhere., never. I will never leave your side.”

Jason’s breath hitched, his facade cracking as he stared at you. “You shouldn’t have to do this.”

“Maybe not,” you admitted, stepping closer until you were inches away from him. “But I want to. Because I care about you, Jason. Even when you don’t care about yourself.”

His shoulders slumped, the fight draining out of him as he looked down at you. “I don’t know how to stop falling apart, Y/N.”

You reached out, hesitating for a moment before resting your hand on his cheek. He didn’t pull away, his stormy blue eyes searching yours as if looking for an answer you didn’t have.

“Then let me hold the pieces,” you whispered. “At least until you’re ready to put them back together. I told you, I won't leave you, ever.”

For a long moment, Jason didn’t move. Then, slowly, his arms came up, wrapping around you like a lifeline. He buried his face in your shoulder, his body trembling as the weight he carried finally broke him.

You held him tightly, your fingers threading through his hair as the storm outside raged on. “You don’t have to do this alone, Jason. Not anymore.”

And for the first time in what felt like forever, he let himself believe it.

[typicalopposite]

WIP Wednesday

thank you thank you @bidisasterevankinard for the tag! 🫶🫶🫶

take me back - Tommy amnesia fic - from ch 3

Evan: Hey! Hope you have a great first day back! Be safe! 🙂

Tommy’s heart skips a beat… he said– he said their thing… Be safe / Of course. Like Bobby and Athena’s Home Safe, or Howie and Maddie’s Miss you already / Miss you most or Han and Leias I love you / I know. It floods his brain with memories of what feels like just last week; him telling Evan the same thing when he called to let Tommy know they were going on a pretty serious call. It stabs him in the chest, and tears sting at his eyes that he quickly blinks away because, no… Evan is allowing him a friendship when he doesn’t deserve one. He will not screw it up this early in because he has a giant sack of unresolved emotional baggage that he filled himself. He replies: I will be he hits send, reels at the sting of making it different, then he sends and thank you :) to balance it out.

The messages are instantly read, and Tommy waits for a moment to see if he’ll say anything else. He doesn’t, so Tommy grabs his keys and heads out the door to his truck. The engine roars to life and he turns his music up loud enough to make his ears hurt— from the volume and the fact every song reminds him of Evan— as he drives the miles to Harbor Station. 

He is actually pretty surprised at the effort his team put into their welcome back, complete with a banner and cake. (If Tommy is being honest he is just about cake’d out from his birthday… but he appreciates the gesture… Especially if— unless they changed a lot in the span of last year to now— this isn’t usual for the 217. This is more of the 118’s style of celebration. He’ll take it.) “Thanks everybody,” he says humbly. 

“Good to have you back,” his captain says, shakes his hand then excuses himself to his office. 

He is approached one by one by his other coworkers ending with Lucy. She grins widely at him, and throws her arms around his neck; a gesture he was used to from her… but things are supposedly different between them now, so it’s an unexpected surprise.  

“How’re you feeling?” she asks. Her– usually sharp, ready to give as much sass and shit as she receives among a crew of mostly men– eyes are soft and sincere. 

“Better… I– I guess,” Tommy replies. “Doc said as long as I don’t crack it open again, staples can come out next week.”

“You still don’t know how that happened?” 

Tommy pulls his lips down into a frown and shakes his head. “That garage is a mess… Evan is always– or… was always–” he stops and sighs, running a hand over the back of his neck, wondering if one day talking about Evan will stop hurting. He doubts it’ll be anytime soon. “He always said I needed to organize my stuff better– guess I should have listened.” 

She gives him a sympathetic smile, hooking an arm around his arm and leading him through the hangar. “Well at least you have plenty of paperwork to keep your mind off of… everything, until you’re cleared to get back in the sky!” 

“Oh, great…” He groans at the piles of unorganized files left for him to keep busy while he is on temporary light duty, and drops into his chair to get started. 

Or rather try to get started… except everything reminds him of Evan– of the accident– of what he lost— of how miserable he is. 

Calls where their stations worked together. Calls with people named Evan, or Tommy, or even worse Dylan. Calls involving head injuries, and memory loss, and extreme depression, and anxiety– a call involving a person giving a statement so filled with regret and despair Tommy has to stop what he’s doing and walk outside for some air. 

“You okay?” Lucy asks, sticking her head out of the helicopter she is running a safety check on. 

“Fine…” Tommy lies, still unable to suck in a deep enough breath that it will stop feeling like he’s being suffocated. 

Lucy sighs and turns the helicopter off. She hops down and walks over to him, face determined. “Seriously, Kinard… I’m not saying you have to be an open book; hell you never were, even before— But don’t start shutting everyone out again. We’re a team and if you’re going through it and your mind is not clear it’s not safe– you could get hurt… again. So we’re not going back there, okay?” Tommy slowly lifts his eyes to hers and nods. 

Lucy calls out for Melvin to finish the inspection and she tips her head towards the side of the hangar. They walk down alongside the metal wall towards the water’s edge. She picks up a rock and flicks it out onto the water; it skips three times before dipping under the surface. She glances over at Tommy, giving him the floor to start the conversation. Tommy doesn’t speak and instead repeats her action– picks up a rock and skips it across the lake. Seven skips before it disappears and Lucy scoffs, calling him a show off. 

“I don’t know why I broke up with him…” is Tommy’s reply. 

Lucy stares at him for a second, like she’s trying to formulate a response. “I– I mean… I’m sure once the amnesia–”

“It’s not because of the amnesia, Luce…” Tommy interjects. “I–” He exhales, long and deep. “I don’t know why I broke up with him because I don’t want to break up with him.” She furrows her brows and he continues before she can speak. “Lucy I woke up thinking it was our anniversary. Just a few days before I dumped him, for– for the stupidest reason!”

“Wait, you know the reason?”

“Ye– Yeah. Evan told me.”

“You spoke to Evan?!”

Tommy sighs. “That’s not the point. The point is that I don’t— or— or I didn’t… I still don’t want to not be with him. I– I was ready Lucy. Ready for the next step– granted the next step was telling him I loved him… whereas his was moving me into his loft–”

“Wait…” Lucy pushes forward from where she had been leaning against a tree and starts to pace. “He asked you to move in– into the loft?”

“He did.”

“But you have a house…”

“Yes but– dammit Lucy this is still not the point! I love him! I- I would have said yes. I s- should have said yes! I don’t–” His voice breaks, he covers his face. Then Lucy’s arms are around him, tugging him down to her level, allowing him to hide his face in her shoulder instead. 

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