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luminiamore · 2 days

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plug connie springer x black stripper reader

warnings: boy is down bad, a little bit of mikasa x reader??, mikasa is famous heree, connie is a tease, he’s also hispanic asf, ya’ll didn’t even make it to the club, hints of yandere, mirror action, he fucks u while he’s crossfaded, wall sex, he talks a lot, dude is rambling, good ole cream pie, gotta love breeding

a/n: i got carried away (⌒_⌒;)

can you guys tell i like my men desperate lol, this is so long i might make this a series (4.9k words)

one down, like five more to goooo

The lifestyle of stripping was something you truly couldn’t get enough of. The late nights. The smooth poles. Dancing on those smooth poles. And most importantly, the money. Oh fuck, how you loved the money. Living the fast life gave you such a rush that you adored it just as much as you hated it.

It’s not your first choice, not by a long shot. You were raised in Jamaica, New York. And your parents., you loved them. Honestly, you did, but you would probably be the most miserable person in the world if you kept heeding their strict Christian views.

You tried everything to reach up to their impossibly high standards. They wanted you to get an A in every assignment? Try A+. They wanted you to wear less revealing clothes because ‘No man will ever want you’? You’re showing up to your classes in turtlenecks just to keep their mouths shut.

You even made it a routine to clean the entire house top to bottom on Sundays since they started complaining that ‘You never do anything around this house.’ It was beyond annoying. You were fucking tired.

Growing up in Notre Dame School of Manhattan was nothing short of horrible. Proclaimed ‘good girls’ snorting more than half a line of coke in the school bathrooms. Drugs you aren’t even sure how they got access to, but then again, they are rich white kids. Teachers and hypocritical professors pretend to be oblivious to the bullshit drama their students are in. Your parents’ oblivion for keeping you here is even greater. Even after sharing stories with them, they would advise you to be more like the students at your school.

It was a miracle you didn’t turn out that far gone, despite what your profession is currently. You’ve smoked a little weed here and there. Experience some sort of awakening tripping off shrooms the weekend your parents took a trip to Barbados.

Without you, of course. Despite this, you were always taken care of. Your differences in opinion would never justify their abandonment of you. You knew they loved you when they got you a ticket to see The Weeknd live after you got a perfect score on your final, not after telling you their opinions on the matter, of course.

‘I don’t know why you listen to such devil music.’

‘I should’ve never gotten you this trash.’

The guilt you felt for wanting to have fun kept you from almost going. You went anyway, choosing to avoid allowing their misery to affect you.

Everything was fine; you played along with this draining game, and everything was fine. Until they decided to kick you out for finding a small baggie of blow (that wasn’t even yours) peeking out from the top of your purse. You don’t even know how it got there.

Honestly, you didn’t. You tried to communicate that while they were packing all the clothes they could find in your closet into two medium-sized luggage bags. But they wouldn’t listen, opting for screaming so loud you could see the neighbors peeking through the window. At the very least, they were kind enough not to throw them onto the concrete ground. Their stubbornness was unyielding. You just couldn’t get through to them.

You were able to rent an apartment you had put a deposit on a month before this happened because of the money in your savings account. Unfortunately, your funds were only sufficient for rent for two months due to groceries and other necessities.

When graduation came, your parents were nowhere to be found, so you realized that you had to find a means of earning money before you ended up sleeping on the streets.

You tried looking for a ’regular’ job -- a barista, a waitress, even applied to be a fucking bartender. It’s not as easy as it seems when those who already have one talk about finding a job. Why do they claim that they need to hire immediately and yet still reject you? Considering that your lack of work experience prevents you from being hired, you feign a little on your resume. Turns out, you’re not a very good liar.

Where was pretty privilege when you needed it?!

Despite applying to 500 companies, none could offer you a job within the next two weeks, which happened to be when your rent was due.

You really had no other option. You took your pretty ass and marched to the nearest club. Which happened to be the... Hustlers club? Why did that sound familiar?

Upon entering, you outright demanded to speak with the person in charge, and when you saw him, he demanded that he offer you a job. Lucky for you, the owner happened to be there that day. He observed the little moment you had when you stormed in..well, he observed the way your tits bounced in your low-cut tee and immediately pulled you into his office.

He had the thought that you would make him a lot of money if you worked for him, and he’s sure his business partner would agree if she saw you. He just had to make sure.

A figure appeared in the corner, striking up from the edge of his desk and making a slight sniffling noise. A girl, a beautiful one with distinct Asian features. Her leather skirt was short, only barely covering past 2 inches of her thigh. Her tits were pushed up to a necklace in a black corset-like top. An ornamental gold necklace.. with the letter M.

Wait. Is that-

That’s where it dawned on you why the name of this club sounded so familiar. On a random Tuesday afternoon, you find yourself standing in front of a celebrity. You were standing in front of Mikasa Ackerman. The Mikasa Ackerman. As in, owner of Mirror Palais, the highest-paid model in Japan, co-owner of one of the best clubs in New York, Mikasa Ackerman. Oh shit.

You remember seeing her on an Instagram reel in front of this very club, along with the other owner. The other owner, his name was.. what was it again? He swivels you around to face him, almost as if he hears your thoughts,

“Eren Yeager, sweetheart.”

A soft handshake accompanied by a gentle tone. He was quick to introduce you to the beautiful eyes that stayed fixed on your face since you walked into the dimly lit room. Eren guides you towards the brown leather couch where his friend is sitting,

“And, this is the lovely Mikasa. I’m sure you sure you know who she is.”

Feeling intimidated by her intense gaze, you nodded quickly and stumbled a bit when introducing yourself. Her following words didn’t calm your nerves anyhow,

“A real pleasure meeting you, beautiful.”

Eren could tell that Mikasa already liked you; the girl was practically fucking you with her eyes. But he wasn’t here for that; he cleared his throat to draw attention to him in the room. He had a goal in mind: to get you signed up. Eren wanted you dancing in his club today.

He sits you down and swiftly gets into business mode.

‘What kind of position are you looking for?’

‘What’s the minimum salary you want to earn here?’

He tries to get a sense of what you’re looking for before proposing to work as a stripper. Although he wants you to, he can compromise. Server position and the minimum salary you asked for was $65,000.

“And I’m not leaving til I get that or something better.”

Well, you wanted better, right? Eren explains to you that his club didn’t have any more waitress positions and Mikasa...

Well, that day, you found out that she was really good with words. She did a great job at convincing you that you’d make double the amount you asked for moving your perfect body on the pole. I mean...

“Look at that body of yours. You’d be pretty famous here, sweetheart.”

And shit, she was right. You really couldn’t blame the girls who never wanted to leave, simply too addicted to the drugs, to the fast life, especially to the money. The amount of money you made every night was simply insurmountable. And you found it funny because it wasn’t just the money. Really, it wasn’t.

The sensation that occurs when your lower body rotates on the pole. The art of dancing like this ignited such a passion from you. The attention, from the men and the women. One of the most popular clubs in the city had you as a crowd favorite. You knew it shouldn’t be something you liked; you never wanted to get too wrapped up in a life like this. But shit, it was sensational.

You didn’t let it slip, even though you shined on the stage. There are people who would take advantage of you even more if they knew you actually enjoyed what you do; you know this. When it was time to go, you left with no hesitation. You had to remind yourself of what you were here for, to provide and care for yourself until you find a better job.

And you stuck to that goal for a solid five months; nothing deterred you. Of course, that’s what you’re thinking. In reality, from the very first moment Eren had you on that pole, you found yourself coming back for one reason. Even if you weren’t subconsciously aware of it, him.

Connie, you heard the owner greet one day. He was definitely attractive. There was something about him, something about how he threw money at you and only you. Your body shivered without fail due to the gray eyes that watched your every move. The way he man spreads and tilts his head back when taking a hit, revealing neck tattoos that you know cover his stomach under that black Nike Tech hoodie. He was so fucking fine.

Only a few men can pull off a buzz cut. How does he do it so effortlessly? Maybe it was the color? How would he change it like it was nothing every two weeks?

You noticed he had a thin mustache, and when you got closer to his face.. Fuck. Was that a diamond nose ring?

He was a drug dealer. You caught that three months ago. Around that point, he began asking for you to exclusively serve his section. Eren had no problem with that; after all, this was his friend. But Connie started getting.. greedy. He wanted more than that. He started getting bold. He wanted your body on that twirling solely for him.

“Hell no.”

Eren filled the quiet section. Your body was followed by both green and gray eyes as you moved on the stage, with Connie’s eyes being more intense and focused compared to the other. The thriving club was filled with both of them enjoying a glass of Richard Hennessy Cognac in the VIP area.

Connie never had a good relationship with mixing Henny and weed. He was aware of that. He has a tendency to indulge in sinful thoughts. He didn’t let that stop him from rolling the blunt anyway.

His mind would get drawn towards dangerous places, mainly when he saw you. The way your thong disappeared between your cheeks under your lacey two-piece made him ready to fuck you right there. To show those perverted and prickly eyes that stuck like glue onto you that they could never have you. That you were his. Or, you will be.

Connie hasn’t even fucked you yet. Hasn’t gone anywhere near the sticky wetness he knows you have in between your legs.

You two indulge in what you could only describe as subtle grinding in the back rooms. All the dancing that you’re supposed to be doing on the pole, you’re doing on his lap instead. It was against the rules; you especially knew this. That didn’t stop either of you. Well, more so Connie than you.

At first, his best friend was against it. The customers you brought in were earning him at least $100k a night. While his other show girls were beautiful, you radiated a different type of aura onto the stage. You were something different. It was genuinely insane how you could move, you didn’t even have prior training. You found that every night, you got better than the previous; it was a natural talent.

Connie, being Connie, offered Eren twice that amount for every night he gets to spend with you alone. That was every night you were on the clock, besides, he had no problem making that back by the next day. When it came to his girl, there was never a problem for him.

And Connie never regretted the amount he spent on you. Being alone with you was something he had grown to crave incessantly. To him? It was worth it. He’d get so excited to just walk into the back room and find you waiting for him. All pretty, just tempting him to ruin you. Then, when you start performing in front of him, your body moves in a way that would hypnotize the stoic man.

And it wasn’t just your body to Connie. There was a certain allure to you. He was observant of the way you moved, spoke, and behaved. He understood that someone like you doesn’t come by every day. He just had to have you, own you. Your body, your fucking soul, everything you possessed, he wanted it for himself. He didn’t care if it sounded selfish; he’s okay with being that when it comes to you.

It’s reasonable to assume that he would have the final say on what you wear for him since he was the only person you would dance for, right? That was the route he took to get your number. That’s the reason you got a text from him while you were getting ready to shower for your night shift.

One of his friends- Was he talking about Mikasa?

You could have given it more thought, but your shift was only an hour away, and Connie was on his way. Using a small gray towel, you drape it onto the fat of your wet boobs. Your hands lather your Shea Butter oil on the top of your left thigh quickly, but you stop when your doorbell rings.

“Coming!”

You yelp, quickly slip on your slippers, and move toward the door. The man had always taken you home, and on the other side of the coin, he always took you to work. You didn’t bother asking how he knew your address the first time, afraid that it would spark an answer you’re not ready to hear. Occasionally, if you were too intoxicated to carry yourself to your apartment, he would act as your knight in shining armor and hold you in bridal fashion to your door without saying a word.

It should have been simple enough: he goes in and gets out. And it would have been that simple if he hadn’t seen your pink lacy thong loosely hanging off your door knob. He was simply a man, one who desired to feel every part of you. The tip of that thong was hanging out of his pockets when Connie left your apartment that night.

Swinging your door open makes you almost breathless. Connie was a tall person. Everything about him just screamed: big. He was easily over 6 feet 2 inches tall, and he came to your door carrying a medium-sized shopping bag. You step back, observing as he comes in right after taking his slides off by your door.

“You’re here early, Con. I’m not ready yet.” You whisper, still a little perplexed he’s already here. Despite the amount of money you know he has, you rarely ever see him in anything other than a white tee and black sweats. Today was no different. Minor differences in each pair made it clear that they were different every time. You suppose it had something to do with his dangerous line of work.

He hands you the cream-colored bag, and his eyes never leave your lips all the while. You suddenly became very conscious that you were breathing the same air as Connie, who appeared right in front of you. He leans in, the ghost of his lips felt against your collarbone,

“You smell good,” His tatted hands sneakily climbed their way onto your wide hips. Before muttering a curse under his breath, he squeezes once. For the first time since meeting you, Connie isn’t being truthful. He didn’t come to your apartment to take you to your job. Tonight, he had different intentions.

He came tonight to put a full stop to the cat-and-mouse game that you guys have been playing for the past five months. Two fully packed blunts and three shots of Don Julio convinced him that his attraction towards you was not going away.

He should’ve realized it when he started making a habit of watching over you outside of the strip club. She needs someone to protect her, he thinks. You don’t pay attention to your surroundings. You have no idea, don’t you? Your beauty could easily lead to someone from the club becoming obsessed and following you. Anyone who wasn’t him.

He also should’ve realized it when he started beating his dick into overstimulation to your pictures on Instagram. And after your shift. Of course, before your shift. Eren witnessed him having to excuse himself during your shift because his dick was painfully throbbing against his boxers.

Connie really liked you. And somewhere in that twisted mind of his, he believed that you two were truly meant for each other. He should’ve never waited this long, “Put this on, ma.”

He pushes the bag towards your chest and moves your hips in the direction of your room. Your thighs twitch as you hum and make a little run to the end of your hall. He follows after you slowly, eyes shifting to the way your ass peaks out from under the towel.

This scene feels oddly familiar. A predator stalking its prey, just waiting for the right moment to pounce. You didn’t know what Connie came here to do; in your mind, you were just getting ready for work. He almost felt sorry for you, almost felt sorry for how he was going to ruin you, almost.

He made sure to take his time approaching your door so that you could be ready and prepared for him when he arrived. And you didn’t disappoint. In front of your vanity makeup mirror, you were sat on the cushion chair. Applying what looked like oil from a flower bottle onto your neck.

You look better in the dress than he expected. Your fat tits sitting so perfectly, and the lace meshing with your skin. You pretended to ignore him behind your seat, starting to feel the weight of his presence around you. This was probably the thinnest item you had ever owned, yet his hands pressing on your shoulders made your skin feel like it was on hot volcanic soil.

You catch his eye in the mirror, and despite your flustered state, he doesn’t grant you the satisfaction of looking away. Not even while his hands lower down to your rib cage, right under your plush boobs. Especially not even while his giant palms wrap around the fabric covering your nipple in a tight grip.

You gasp, a moan bottling in your throat, “C-Con!”

It could have been the way you uttered his name or the way your head pressed against his chest. Regardless, Connie lost control and dropped his head into the crook of your neck, beginning to sprinkle small, wet kisses. He grips harder, and you... you get louder.

“You drive me fucking insane,” Your flesh is now exposed to his hands as they slip into the dress. “Skin so soft,” He kneads his hands into your chest, squeezing as if he’s hoping milk will pour out of them. He groans, “God, you’re so perfect mama.” The thought of that makes a shiver run down his body.

Poor Mikasa, she spent all night working on that dress once she heard it was for you. Connie didn’t even let it last for a good ten minutes before you heard a faint rip sound in the midst of your whimpers.

Your brain is struggling to keep up with the speed of everything happening. You attempt to tilt your head back, but he shuts it down right away. “Eyes on the mirror.” He moves one hand to your throat, keeping you still. You feel your body shake under his hold, twitching slightly from his small attack. You didn’t have the courage to look away, not even as far as you could.

“I’ve been so patient.” Squeezing your left nipple, he drops his fingers down the ripped material until they reach the top of your pussy lips. “Cumming to the thought of your pretty face like a fucking teenager,” His words bring a mewl to your lips. Your body starts sweating, nervous at the way his fingers are just rubbing circles around your skin.

Would he pull away if your hips jerked against his hand? You hoped against all odds that he wouldn’t. You’ve never allowed yourself to feel this desperate for anyone, but being around Connie left you like this. You were at a loss for what to do. Your thoughts were racing to find something, anything, that would bring him closer to you.

It’s unclear what motivated him to answer your prayers. But in the next moment, he pushed his middle finger into the center of where your slick was overflowing onto the cushion. He creates slight tap sounds with the puddle between your fat lips, playing with you.

Your eyes close for just a second and burst wide open when you feel a sudden intrusion in your sticky hole. “A-Ah!” A sob leaves your lips, your eyes falling back to your face in the mirror when you register his next words,

“Eyes on the mirror, mama. I haven’t done anything to you yet,” As Connie slowly moves his fingers into and out of your dripping core, his eyes struggle to keep track of your face in the mirror or the stain you’re beginning to make on his digits.

He settles with the stain you’re creating. He’s massaging your walls in a way that you can’t help but cover them in a creamy white. It’s impossible not to moan with shaky breaths, whispering his name. He figures the wait was worth it. His dreams couldn’t have prepared him for the real thing. It was more noisy, was more sticky, and it was.. real.

What do you taste like?

Your hips shake as he suddenly removes his fingers from you. You whimper, annoyed by the absence of the touch of fingers on your wet walls, but you stop yourself when you see his movements in the mirror. His mouth wraps around his middle and ring finger, sucking your juices to the fullest. Your breathing stops when he moans, “You taste so fucking good.”

Connie silently pulls you up from your seat and presses you against the nearest wall, causing the ripped dress to fall to the floor. Instantly, your back arched into the prominent bulge that was pressing on your bare ass. Your thoughts wander back to your last session with Connie in the backroom. All that desperate grinding.

“You were squeezing so tight around my fingers,” He pushes his sweat down to remove his throbbing hard dick with a little effort. “Y’gonna squeeze my dick like that next?”

Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!

You jump every time the base of his cock slaps down on your ass. Both of his hands grip your sides, his eyes rolling back as he slides his dick back and forth in between your leaking pussy lips.

“Oh f-fuck! Connie,”

Your voice cracks when you call out for him, and he smiles. He cannot deny that this is the perfect thing; it was always meant to be like this. He spreads your cheeks as wide as he can, lining his tip up to your hole that’s clenching around nothing.

“Yeah, b-baby?” Fuck, you were so wet. “Want me to fuck you? Want- Oh fuck. Want Connie to make you scream?”

Your lips tremble, and you try to slide his dick inside you by pushing your hips back. He lets you, too weak himself, to stop you from taking what you wanted. All you can think right now is Connie, Connie, fucking Connie.

“Shittt. Want y-y’to to make me cum! P-please!”

Pushing him even further inside without his help proves to him that you truly want him to make you scream. You’re barely making it halfway with his thick and long build. Connie is incredibly proud of you right now, taking his dick like a desperate bitch and moaning to fuck the rest of his inches in.

He pulls a little of himself out of you, only to flush his hips abruptly against yours with one single push. Groaning at the same time you gasp out, he whispers in your ear, “Scream for daddy, mama.”

You were so full. His cock tip was touching places that you’ve never been to on your own before, causing your mind to go haywire. His pressure against your cervix was so intense it would have been painful if you weren’t so wet. You oblige almost embarrassingly quickly the moment you feel his dick drag at a steady pace inside of you.

Connie regrets not having done this sooner, as the drugs he took earlier are still mixing in his system, alternating and speeding up his thoughts. His body was ablaze. You’re covering the entire length of his dick with your juices, causing him to become frantic and desperate to get more out of you. His thrusts match his crave. You were warm, and your cries were heaven to his ears, “Big! Y’re so b-big, daddy!”

You’re not complaining, far from it, as he tears your pussy to shreds. In fact, you’re taking him so well, and he praises you for it. Like he said, you were made for this moment, for him. You’re such a,

“Good girl. Fuck! My g-good girl takes me so well,”

He can hear your slick drip on the floor below you despite the smacking sound in your room. You’re so needy for him, as he is for you. The walls echoed with your wailing sounds as you fucked him back, making Connie shudder.

He’s gonna cum. He can feel his balls churning as they slap repeatedly against your twitching clit. Fuck. He’s gonna cum so deep inside you he prays it reaches your womb. Although it’s his first time exploring the depths of your perfect cunt, he recognizes that you’re also going to cum.

He can tell by the way your legs are shaking rapidly, by the way, your moans get higher in pitch, by the way, you’re whispering his name out like a prayer. And he’s determined to make you cum before him. Do you squirt? Do you cream? He thinks he’ll die and go to heaven if it’s both. Your next plea erupts another groan to tumble out his mouth,

“M’gonna- M’gonna cum! O-oh fuck- M’gonna cum so h-hard.”

Holding your arms behind your back with his tatted hand, he moves his hips inside you at a faster pace than ever before. “Shit. Me t-too, mama.” He angles his waist to keep pressing into that spongy spot that makes you tremble. “Just like that. Cum, baby. C-cum all over this fat dick.”

Small tears start to fall down your brown cheeks, and your back arches sharply on Connie, causing your stomach to clench at once. The man above you receives both your cream and squirt splashing from your sweet core, and you weep. Your muffled moans fill the air as he cranes your neck towards him for a nasty, drooling kiss.

As he gets closer to his orgasm, his rapid thrusts become sloppy and crazed, and his heart beats twice as fast as he sees the beauty fucked out underneath him. The more Connie moved inside of you, the more he swayed. Your essence was covering his lower half so much that he couldn’t wait another minute before dumping his kids against your cervix, a shaky moan accompanying his release.

His thrusts slow down, causing tiny drops to spill onto the floor, but his lips never leave yours, and he has to remind himself to let you breathe when you start to whine against his mouth. He lets you go and instead presses tiny kisses against your panting mouth.

Both of you, Connie in particular, were on cloud nine. Your clenching onto him brings Connie’s mind back to Earth, but he is not satisfied. He wanted to go again. He needed it, so it was only natural he started moving at a steadfast pace inside you again.

“Again. Let’s go a-again, mama. Shitt. Your pussy is so-”

Before that night, you’ve never experienced pleasure on this level. Connie took you, on every corner of the house. Both of you left unaware of Eren’s multiple missed calls as he fucked his cum into you like a dog in heat. It’s safe to say that you didn’t show up for work that night or the night after. Connie made sure you never danced at a strip club again.

@hatake05 @thickbihhwitdagapp 🫶🏾

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pomefioredove · 2 days

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having a crush on you

summary: how they would act having a crush on you type of post: headcanons characters: pomefiore (vil, rook, epel) additional info: reader is yuu, reader is gender neutral, rook is rook, not proofread, hi I'm insane and I love pining, I NEED to write another fic but with rook. might write this same prompt with other dorms

𝐕𝐢𝐥 𝐒𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐞𝐧𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐭

don't take his calm and collected facade as apathy

he's slowly losing his mind about this

"pacing back and forth, mumbling to himself, falling asleep thinking about you" kind of losing his mind

it's my personal belief that Vil hasn't been in love before this

hasn't even really thought about it

so when you enter the picture it kinda throws him off balance

and with the exception of Rook, no one can even tell

he is an actor, after all, he can play the part of "totally platonic friends with room for Jesus"

(maybe a little too well)

but Vil isn't entirely emotionally repressed

he keeps things to himself, yes, but he's quite conscious of his own wants and needs

so when he realizes he's been craving your presence more than usual he does acknowledge it

in his head

and then does nothing about it for months

...what? he's busy

things like this can wait for him, and he doesn't want to put a rift between you two in case it might be a passing feeling

well... it doesn't pass

he becomes keenly aware of how much he wants you around him, how much he thinks about you, how much your very presence is enough to make him happier than he's ever... really felt

and you know what?

he is totally cool about it.

just kidding. he drives himself insane trying to think of the perfect way to confess, something that will impress you and meet his standards

he's dropping hints left and right and you don't seem to be picking any of them up

which again, just makes him crazy

(some days he really wants to ask you how oblivious one person can be, but he restrains himself)

I mean, how many times can he send you red tulips before you finally get the hint? he's practically spelling it out for you!

there is... a tiny, little part of him that worries you don't reciprocate

is he not your type? are you interested in someone else? perhaps he'd been too harsh on you, after all...

the fact that one little potato can make him so worried absolutely drives him mad

he is the vision of poise and grace and you are ruining him

and this sort of mood comes and goes in waves

just when he thinks he's pulled himself back together, you'll smile at him or say something cute and suddenly he's back to square one

(you're so adorable it's annoying -_-)

while he's sorting out a good way to express his feelings properly, he'll be spending all his free time with you

you need some new things? he'll be glad to take you shopping

you came over to see Epel? oh, well, he's not here, but you should stay for some tea, anyway!

your afternoon is free? he has some new lip gloss he's been dying to test out...

𝐑𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐇𝐮𝐧𝐭

contrary to popular belief, I don't think Rook would be so open about it

he still compliments you, of course, and sings praises of your beauty and elegance, and has little regard for personal space, as always

but he's like that with a lot of people, so it's hard to really tell when he likes someone

the truth of the matter is that Rook Hunt can be just as reserved with his feelings as anyone else

when he really, really likes someone, he keeps it to himself

why?

he's hunting you he's learning more about you before making his true feelings known

he feels it's necessary to have an adequate amount of information on his target before making a move, after all

for reference: you catch his eye at orientation, and do not have a single conversation with him until after winter break

(of course, after that, you start mysteriously running into him everywhere)

is he kinda weird about it? uh. yeah.

this is Rook we're talking about

on the other hand, he's completely lovesick about you and it's almost cute

he's definitely the type to write your initials in a journal with a glitter pen while kicking his feet back and forth and giggling

seeing if you would sound better with his last name or he with yours...

definitely has a very weird photo collection of you somewhere in his room

along with stacks of poems, pressed flowers, and little gifts he intends to give you once he's won you over

(when, not if. Rook is nothing if not patient)

you may find a rose left outside Ramshackle every so often

or a few cans of tuna for Grim

all while acting like the same old eccentric Rook, no discernable difference

except when you can feel his eyes on you at random places in the middle of the day

Ace and Deuce call you paranoid but you can't shake the feeling

though, every once in a while he'll get a little grumpy

Rook is easily jealous, and while that sort of possessiveness never extended to untouchable idols like Vil and Neige, he's already decided that you're his prey

and he'd kindly ask everyone else to find their own, thank you

he hasn't exactly planned the confession yet, but just know it's probably going to be the sweetest and craziest you've ever heard

𝐄𝐩𝐞𝐥 𝐅𝐞𝐥𝐦𝐢𝐞𝐫

first of all he's going to fight you for making him like you so much

second of all he's going to beg for a chance

maybe not in that exact order

Epel is constantly at war with his own emotions and having romance thrown in the mix is. uh. not optimal

not only does it ruin the stoic, strong male persona he's been trying to build, but it's also making him feel all soft and gushy

suddenly he cares about looking nice

(much to Vil's approval)

and now he wants to do nice things for you?

he's gonna bite you

how dare you make him think about kissing and holding hands!

don't you know he's supposed to be above all this romantic stuff? what is he, Rook?!

then, after his initial temper tantrum, he starts coping. hard.

he might be able to stomach the idea of being an item if he gets to wear the pants in the relationship

...yeah, right? right.

if you let him be the man, if you let him protect you...

he might be okay with it!

obviously he starts trying to show off his manly strength (seriously) every time he sees you

starts making comments about how tough practice was on him

will literally never let anyone else carry anything for you ever again

he even provides for you (in payments of apple juice)

obviously this backfires 'cause the second you do something that gives him butterflies he's back to giggling

(you'll have to ease him into the idea of being soft and romantic together, but he'll get there)

but, to his credit, he'd be the first out of all the above to confess

super suddenly and out of nowhere (and he ends up shouting it cause he didn't want to sound chicken) but it's sweet in its own way

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #vil schoenheit x reader #rook hunt x reader #epel felmier x reader #queued

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genshingorlsrevengeance · 2 days

Note

Chris, I suffer of simpinitis and the only cure is you to write for Arlecchino (just a joke don't feel pressured especially if you end up not liking her also good luck if you're pulling for her)

(Genshin Impact) Arlecchino, Lynette, Xianyun, and Barbara's S/O getting scared by a spider

I don't plan on pulling for her because Clorinde is showing up, but FEAR NOT ANON! Quoth the FFXIV:

Arlecchino watches with vague amusement as S/O suddenly leaps back, nearly into her arms.

She catches them with minimal effort as her eyes slowly track tiny movement on the floor.

A spider was skittering across the floor at a slow pace, making her gaze trail back to S/O.

(Arlecchino) "Spiders are not very likely to attack humans without being provoked. And even then, that is under the most dire of circumstances-"

(S/O) "I-I know, but...they're just creepy!"

(Arlecchino) "Indeed."

With a hum of acknowledgement, she almost drops S/O to the ground as they barely caught themselves in time.

Arlecchino walks over to the spider and gently puts it in a cup before releasing it outside.

She crosses her arms as distant memories from her past came trickling in.

(Arlecchino) "You wouldn't have liked Bambi."

(S/O) "Who's that?"

(Arlecchino) "A pet spider that I once owned."

(S/O) Of course you owned one...

They were smart enough to not say that out loud, but Arlecchino had the faintest hint of a smile on her lips.

She probably knew what they were thinking anyway.

Even when she was spacing out, Lynette could easily spot something moving in the corner of her eye.

(Lynette) "Oh, a spider-"

(S/O) "WHAT?!"

S/O immediately balled up onto the couch, head rapidly darting back and forth.

(S/O) "W-WHERE?!"

Lynette's ears twitched from how loud S/O was being, but she easily grabbed the spider in a cup, noting how S/O was inching away from her.

(Lynette) "It's not even a dangerous kind, just a regular-"

(S/O) "I don't care what it is, just throw it out!"

Lynette smiled and gently let it escape out the house.

As she sat back down next to S/O, her tail swished playfully, though Lynette herself was stoic as ever.

(Lynette) "What are you going to do when i'm not here?"

(S/O) "D-Don't tease me!"

Xianyun adjusts her glasses when she sees a spider on the table.

S/O almost dropped their food completely at the sight of it, while Xianyun looked slightly annoyed.

(Xianyun) "How unsightly for a dinner table."

With a small gust of wind, she flicks it away, making S/O leap out their seat.

(S/O) "GAH! D-Don't fling it at me!"

(Xianyun) "One was not aiming at you, dear. Do be careful, otherwise your plate will drop."

S/O took a deep breath of relief while Xianyun continued to eat.

(Xianyun) "Hm...One has an idea for an invention. We could construct you a machine that can take care of household pests like that."

(S/O) "...W-Would you?"

Xianyun suddenly beams with pride, a gleam of light reflecting off her glasses.

(Xianyun) "Fear not, One will make sure you are never bothered by a spider ever again! We will get started straight away after dinner."

What ended up happening was Xianyun constructed a machine that was too good at killing household pests, to the point it broke parts of the wall.

Both Barbara and S/O yelp when they see a spider speed along the tiles of the Cathedral.

(S/O) "Aw man, it's going up to the ceiling!"

(Barbara) "I-It's not going to drop on our heads, is it?!"

The two exchanged a look that said neither were wanting to find out the answer.

Accepting defeat, the two quickly exited the cathedral out onto the plaza.

(S/O) "Do you think we could ask one of the sisters to help us?"

(Barbara) "U-Um...well-"

It didn't take long for either of them to realize that it'd be absolutely mortifying to ask a sister for something so trivial.

Instead, they decided to practice their singing outside.

Which arguably, was worse since spiders could be anywhere, but it didn't seem to cross their minds as they slowly became comfortable again and laughed the situation off.

Until the next day they forgot about it and entered the cathedral, only to be jumpscared by it as it sat on the pews they were at.

#genshin impact imagines #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact headcanons #arlecchino x reader #lynette x reader #xianyun x reader #barbara pegg x reader #arlecchino genshin #lynette genshin impact #xianyun genshin #barbara pegg

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adventuringblind · 1 day

Text

Entitled To You (3.6K words)

Norstaptri x Reader

Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort

Summary: An incident with Lance sends the boys into a frenzy. She just wants to do what she loves.

Warnings: Explicit depictions of r@pe, injury descriptions, panic attacks, Oscar plots a murder, Lando throws hands, Car crashes, Author doesn't know legal stuff, Head trauma and blood.

Notes: This one is a request from @Lily234566 I know this wasn't the original pairing but I was struggling to fit the Ferrari boys in there so I had to scale it back... I'm sorry and I hope you still like it! T_T

Side Note: Sorry to the Lance girlies reading this. AND obligatory message of I don't know these people and this is purely FICTION! HEAD THE TAGS! DONT LIKE THEN DONT READ!

Masterlist // Request Form // My Website // buy me a Ko-Fi

“Max!” She peeks her head into his driver's room. The bright beaming smile she receives in return after their 1-2 nearly kills her. “They want me for a media thing, apparently.” HIs smile drops into a pout. The sad puppy eyes might convince her to stay.

“Again? Don’t they know we have plans!

“No, and why would they care anyway?” She looks him up and down and whines because he’s standing in front of her with no shirt on. “Just - I’ll meet you guys back at the room. It’s something to do with being a female in F1… again.”

“I’m starting to think they have nothing else to talk about.”

She shrugs as she walks out of the hospitality, waving to Christian on her way by. The goal is to get past the Mclaren garage without seeing Lando because otherwise she is not going to the interview. His pout is worse (better?) than Max’s.

To her pleasant surprise, Laura is the one conducting the interview. “I’m sorry about this being last minute! They said they wanted you to do it with someone else next week and I offered to do it now.”

The interview passes with ease and thankfully doesn’t take long at all. The banter in-between is also entertaining.

She’s exhausted when they finish. Ready to go back to the hotel and fall into bed with her boys. Hopefully They’ve ordered food - and dessert.

The paddock is nearly empty as she makes her way through. Maybe, had she been paying more attention and not focussed on her aching body, she would’ve caught on to the footsteps behind her.

They are heavy, she assumes possibly a mechanic still packing up to continue on their way to the next circuit. That’s what she still thinks when the hand on her bicep yanks her around the corner.

If she weren’t as exhausted, then fighting would’ve been a possibility. However, that seems out of the cards as he pins her against the nearest wall. Her forehead hitting the surface hard enough to make her dizzy.

“Not so confident now, huh?”

The fuck- “Lance? What are you?-” He slams her head again and cages her body against his own. She flails, only to be slammed again. “Would you stop doing that please?”

“Not after that stupid stunt you pulled today on track.”

“You mean the one where you showed you don’t know what brakes are?-” Again, her head is sent into the hard surface. She can feel her nose starting to bleed. “Must you?!” She decided to shut up when he does it again and everything starts to go fuzzy.

His fingers dip beneath the waistband of her fireproofs. The cold evening air hits her bare skin and she panics more than before. Her head is too cloudy to fully comprehend what’s happening.

“I feel like I'm entitled to a bit of compensation after that stunt.”

“You’re entitled to nothing. You took yourself out!” She hisses through gritted teeth. Still, Lance continues to get her clothes lower. And slams her head again harder - you know - because she wasn’t disoriented enough already.

“Would you shut up?” She doesn’t say anything this time. Her mouth feels numb and her ears are ringing. Her exposed lower half is met with the bare hands of someone she doesn't want touching her.

It's - well - it hurts. He's groping at her thighs, ass, even her tits which she isn't sure how he's managing. His hands are everywhere they shouldn't be.

And then nothing.

A vague awareness of what's happening seeps through her veins and invades her senses. She tries to scream. Attempts despite the sheer pain of the snap of hips she didn't ask for.

His finger beat her to it. A hand encloses around her throat and cuts off her oxygen. The black spots dance around her vision. She wants them to stop moving; they are making her dizzy. Or was she already dizzy?

“See, it's not so bad. Don't you feel less guilty for ruining my race now?” No, she doesn't. She wasn't guilty before.

She blacks out.

~~~♡~~~

Waking up with sore limbs and a killer headache is not how she pictured this night going. She tries to yell for help, but a mere creaky rasp escapes.

When did she lose her voice? The thought makes her panic more. The sob she lets out hurts more than there is sound.

Her face and hair is sticky. At least Lance had done her the courtesy of not finishing inside of her.

Still - what the fuck even happened? The fragmented memory is trying to come back to her slowly. Each small piece remembered is another broken cry.

She can't move.

It's dark again.

~~~♡~~~

The anxiety between the three boys is certainly not something they are used to. Oscar can pinpoint the exact moment Lando started overthinking and Max had to bear hug him so he didn't pace a hole into the cement of the parking lot.

The fourth seat in their car remains empty and their messages have gone unanswered. It's getting more concerning with each passing minute.

“Max, she always responds.”

“I know Lando.”

“She always calls if she's going to be longer.”

“Lando?”

“Yes?”

“Would you feel better if we went and looked around for her?”

The Brit nods his head in a fashion that might give him whiplash. It's better seeing him feel helpful then sit helplessly. Though Oscar can't help but agree with Max's original point. that they should wait there at the car just in case since that's where they were supposed to meet.

Granted, it's only been twenty minutes. It's still long enough to be murdered.

They Methodically peer around corners and wave at the mechanics who give them skeptical looks. They were supposed to be out for post race celebrations by now.

Oscar freezes when he sees it. The human shaped lump lying on the ground. He rushes over with long strides. The closer he gets, the more familiar the person on the ground becomes.

“Max! Lando! I found her!” The other two boys come sprinting in his direction. He's on the ground trying to clear her hair from her face only for it to get stuck in the sticky substance coating her features.

“What the fuck?”

Her fireproofs are still on, but it's obvious what happened. The handprints on her neck, the blood trickling down the sides of her face. “We need to bring her to a hospital.”

Max hoists her up in his arms. Mainly because Lando is on the brink of tears and struggling to breathe through his panic. He loves deeply and with his heart on his sleeve. Oscar just hopes he can keep the Brit calm until they find more help.

“Can we at least clean her up?” Lando pleads with him. Big Hazel eyes brimming with tears.

It's always a struggle to tell him no. “We can't, not if it can help us figure out who did it.” The tears start right after that.

“So that’s what happened then? Someone really-” Oscar has to maneuver the puddle of tears that is his boyfriend into the passenger seat of their rental car. Max tosses him the keys, opting to be with her in the back and keep her comfortable.

The tricky drive to emergency is more because Oscar is too far in his own thoughts to pay attention to the traffic lights. He can hear Max moving her around, attempting to put pressure where blood still flows freely.

Oscar doesn’t bother with parking. He pulls off into some empty area and helps Max shoulder her weight inside the doors while Lando runs ahead to find help.

It’s fast after that. They take her away and start patching her up while the three of them are forced to sit in the waiting room. Oscar and Lando are left to their own devices while Max paces about on the phone with Christian.

He feels like a knife is being driven through his chest each time his mind tries to come up with what could’ve happened. Who would do something like this? Unfortunately, a lot of people. The question is more of who could’ve done it and gotten away. Someone with access to the paddock this late. Security, perhaps? Maybe even a sleazy mechanic? A driver wouldn’t make any sense… right?

“When will they let us see her?”

“When she wakes up, most likely.”

He’s not sure when he falls asleep. The exhaustion finally hit him like a truck despite his persistence. He’s awoken by Max’s constant shaking and aggressive whispering of his name.

“-She’s asking for us.”

He’s up faster than Lando when Jon threatens an ice bath. They follow the nurse down the halls with an uneasy anticipation. They creep inside the sterile room and find her staring at the wall.

Lando doesn’t hesitate to move further into the room. Always having been more in touch with his emotions then the other two boys. “Hey love, can I come closer?”

She looks at him. The bandages plastered over the sides of her head and around her face now visible to them. She returns Lando’s gaze with glassy eyes. It’s damn near shocking when she tries to pull things off her body in a desperate attempt to reach for Lando.

Lando gets to her before she can get everything off, specifically the IV, and catch her arms. Oscar and Max finally pull themselves together and manage to get her to lay back down with some coaxing.

She’s shaking violently. Her grip on Lando’s arm is sure to leave bruises. “Who - who f-found me?”

“We did, schat. We got worried when you didn’t respond.” Max drags the two chairs in the room closer and pulls Oscar down into one. Lando, against all odds, manages to wriggle his way into bed with her.

“I know who it was. I - well - does anyone else know?”

“Just Christian and us.” Oscar can feel the fight Max is putting up to not ask her more questions. The way he’s grounding himself with a hand on Oscars knee instead.

“You don’t have to tell us.” He attempts to reassure. Maybe calm her mind by giving her an option. “Just know we’re here, alright?”

“I don’t want it to be a big story. It’s already going to be since I can’t be in the car for the next four weeks. Oh fuck - everyone is gonna know-” Lando hushes her; gets her to somehow hold him tighter.

“Christian said it’s up to you, whatever happens.” Max nods at her encouragingly. “We go at your pace.”

“They did a rape kit. They’ll know who it is. It was all over so it couldn’t have been hard to get DNA - oh fuck”

Her heart rate picks up. The nurses rush in. They send her back to sleep.

~~~♡~~~

Max wants to know who it was who touched her. The rage simmering underneath her skin is almost too much to keep contained.

On the more fortunate side, they were allowed to stay since she wouldn’t let go of Lando. Then when he did have to get up, they rotated.

The doctors and nurses learned to approach her like she’s a scared animal. The heavy footsteps seem to set her off and there is now a sticky note on the door saying to tiptoe when entering. It’s endearing to see her doctors and nurses trying so hard not to startle her. But seeing as they’ve now had several incidents where she’s panicked, they are taking more caution.

Oscar and Lando have meandered away in search of food. Max opted to stay put and made the promise to bring him back cheat foods. He’s too stressed to not eat something of comfort.

Her physio is supposed to come by today with the stuff she left at the track and get an update from the doctors themselves instead of Max’s botched attempts at repeating back. It will also be nice to see her comfortable, as the one blanket that travels with her everywhere will also be dropped off.

“Max?” He tightens his hold to show he’s listening. “It’s not fair… You, Lando, and Oscar make a mistake on track and nobody does that to you. I - It wasn’t my fault.”

The thing is, Max is smarter than people give him credit for. The only incident on track was with Lance. An incident that was his own fault. “He’s at fault, not you. None of this is your fault.”

“They are going to say I was asking for it or something.”

“In those fireproofs? The only ones asking for it are me and Oscar… for obvious reasons.” He chuckles proudly at his little self compliment.

It also manages to get her to crack something of a half smile. “Are you complimenting your own ass?”

“And what if I am?”

She doesn’t eat anything despite it being sat in front of her. Soft foods are the only thing she’ll be eating. Her throat, albeit not as bad as it could've been (thank you F1), is still damaged and needs to rest as much as possible.

They had to keep her for observation due to where the head wounds had been. It’s been a rough thirty-six hours, but they are managing.

Despite the hectic situation, Max has come to learn that the female lying in the hospital bed is a better person then the rest of them. Oscar was detailing a full proof murder plan while she was telling him not to make it a bigger deal then it is. To which Oscar politely put his ten step plan with four contingencies down and told her that it’s ‘what he had coming to him’.

Max has not had to stop someone from assassinating a rival before, but Oscar seems like a reasonable guy. “Death is too good for him.”

“Mm, you’re right, I’ll just make sure he doesn’t die then and can’t see my face.”

“Or, we make his life a series of inconveniences! I feel like daddy’s money could get him good therapy. It can’t solve every minor problem.” Lando has a gleam in his eyes.

Him and Oscar start pouring over ideas once more. The girl simply shakes her head and goes back to eyeing her pudding like it’s assaulted her. “I don’t want to leave here, Max.”

“Why not? I’d assume you want to go home? Sleep in a comfortable bed?”

“Out there, they can get to us. Here is safe.”

He considers how to reassure her. Only, there is nothing he can think of. The truth is that outside of this hospital room, there is no guarantee they won’t run into trouble.

“I can’t promise that we'll never have something bad happen again. But-” He looks to the McLaren duo brainstorming ways to make the Aston Martin garage regret existing. “We’ll be there for each other. We’re here for you. When you want us and when you need us, yes?”

“Pinky swear?” She extends her pink to him.

Max accepts and curls his pinks around hers. “Pinky swear.”

~~~♡~~~

It’s not fair really, that they had to leave to go do things. Lando would prefer he at least stayed with her so she isn’t alone. Alas, they are preparing for her discharge and he had to run around getting things together for their trip back to Monaco.

He comes back to a partially opened door and smiles at the other two boys being able to get back before him. Then again, as he gets closer he can hear the angry tone. One that Max uses when he’s pissed off about something.

Lando panics and rushes inside. Only to be met with the sight of the last person he wants around right now.

Now - he wouldn’t say he’s prone to violence. Lando prefers to keep the peace when it comes to conflict unless he’s trying to piss someone off on purpose to get a reaction. This is not one of those times.

Lando’s knuckles collide with the Canadian’s jaw faster than he can fully become aware of what he’s doing. Lance stumbles backward and holds his jaw, glaring at Lando like he’s the one in the wrong here.

“Get out!”

“We were just talking-”

“I said. Get. Out.” He’s seething. The thudding in his chest becoming louder with each second Lance remains in this room.

He’s not prone to violence.

Really, he’s not.

Yet the second crack of knuckles into Lance's chin gives him some sick satisfaction. Isn’t there something about equilibrium? Can he pin this on restoring the balance or something? Regardless, he isn’t going to dent the fact that it feels good.

The nurses come running and start asking questions. Max and Oscar have to drag Lando away kicking and screaming.

Worse is when they try to tell him that there are pictures out on social media. Christian has been calling Max non-stop. Oscar has been dealing with Zak. Their relationship isn’t a secret and neither is their current location.

“They're sending us a different car to see if we can’t get out discreetly.”

“What happened with Lance, Lan? Are you alright?”

Everyone is panting. Their eyes trained on the door. “I punched him. I restored the equal-brey-um… thing.”

“Equilibrium.”

“Yeah that!”

He’s not sure how they get on the plane. He’s still amped up about the whole punching thing and running purely off adrenaline.

They’ve been sitting in silence, mulling over their options. Creating statements they can put out. It’s hectic and they keep trashing them because nothing fits.

The female has been apathetic. The last thing she wanted was for this to get out and now it has. Seemingly everything is flashing before her eyes. Her career will be gone soon enough, so what’s even the point?

“Don’t post anything. We don’t have an obligation to confirm or deny the rumors. If anything, we can say that you were just driving me to the hospital and being good friends or whatever.” She won’t look at them. Still - Lando can hear how upset she is, the waiver in her voice. “I’m going to be kicked out anyway.”

“Christian said-”

“Damn what Christian said! He knows this isn’t going to get any better and if I say who it was then Daddy’s Money is just going to pay his way through.” She's hyperventilating now. Her body collapses against her seat and Oscar makes an effort to get her to lean against him. “It’s not fair!”

lando Can’t help but share her feelings.

~~~♡~~~

She stays holed up in the Redbull garage the next weekend. The appearance is hard, people want to ask her questions. Her boys had been caught in the middle of the riptide and haven’t come back to shore yet.

At least she’s here. She’s trying her hardest to look stronger than she is. On the inside things are falling apart.

The team knows to give her space and not ask about the ordeal. She takes refuge in Max’s room when things are too much and the other drivers keep their distance.

They know it was one of them. She’d been adamant on not saying who it was, but it’s obvious there are sixteen who it could have been, given her partners insistence that none of them go near her garage for the time being.

She just wants this whole thing to blow over. She wants to lay in bed with her lovers and not flinch when they go to touch her.

She knows, however, that until she deals with things that healing can’t happen like it should. Or at least, that’s what her therapist says. The one she is now required to see.

Things get worse when she’s back in the car. Her media duties are limited so she can focus on driving and ‘listening to her body’ as her physio likes to say.

She can’t hear her body over the sound of her mind going staticy as Lance closes in on her. The catalyst for everything. She panics and ends up in the wall. Not the worst crash ever, but certainly hurts her pride more than it has already.

The thing is, it keeps happening. Even as she’s able to let her boys back in. As her podium finishes start to come back. Her fireproofs (which they’d gotten her all new ones) start to feel comfortable again and she doesn’t feel the need to be out of them the second the race is done. Still, Lance is using this to his advantage.

Finally, after he almost killed her on track (again), she’s had enough.

The trial goes better than she thought it would. Despite the money differences, Lance won’t be able to race anymore. It’s not some grand spectacle either, just an announcement like usual. It’s more the closure she needed versus the publicized drama it could have been.

She wins the next race.

“If I ever see him again, it will be too soon.”

“It’s been over a year now, Lan. I’m getting better.” There is a genuine smile on her face. The car awaits to take them back to the hotel. It was here that it happened. She almost considered not racing because of it.

“Lando got a taste of blood and now he’s feinding for it.” Max has a comforting hand around her waist. A grounding presence.

“I mean, I never threw away my murder plot…”

“You’re a genius Oscar!”

She shakes her head. It’s not like any of this has been easy. It never is. Still - her boys are here and they’ve been so patient.

“There’s her smile.” They all beam at her.

She smiles back.

261 notes · View notes

rxzennia · 2 days

Text

domestic headcanons

– tales of the voracity pathstrider

✎𓂃 ambiguous relationship (oh my god they were roommates); living together; word vomit; incoherent scenarios; ooc aven probably. i offered my exp mats to gepard instead and now i have to grind traces all over again, maybe i should build clara while i’m at it (losing this particular 50/50 has driven me insane istg)

after aventurine’s endless pestering, you finally agree to move in with him. he’s got a whole block all to himself, so what’s you temporarily claiming a room going to change?

the moment you agree, and by that i mean the very second you agree, he’s going to arrange for people to move your stuff

you just need to move yourself over

he’s not going to let you do any hard labor, that’s what the grunts are for

it’s so quick? like, it only took the morning to have everything packed, moved, and unpacked

when you get to your desk the first thing you do is clutter it up

but there’s so much space?

you just can’t stack your stuff enough so that it’s snug the way you like

you try, but all you’ve managed to do is make a paper fortress on one side of your desk

why do the senior managers have so much space?

but you soon realize you didn’t really need to finish building your wall of documents

because your boss sits on your desk whenever he fancies annoying you

so there’s your clutter for the other side

though you still leave a few of your spare scarves there just so it’s not completely empty

a little out of place, but you have nothing else bulky enough

it’s okay, that corner of your desk is often occupied by a certain someone anyway

surprisingly, living with aventurine isn’t unpleasant at all. maybe it’s because you’re almost always within reach now, he’s started bothering you less – instead, he’ll do his work in your office. he has a perfectly good office of his own (arguably comfier too), but he insists on sitting next to you.

frankly, you are tempted to kick him out, but this is his place. you shouldn’t try to kick out your host landlord. and it’s not like he’s actively preventing you from concentrating. you usually leave him be, but you might’ve accidentally gotten used to it – when he’s not around, you feel like something’s missing. just a little bit, though.

he can and will always poke his head over to see what you’re working on

“arranging your meetings, go away.” you push his face back towards his laptop

“hey, leave 6pm to 8pm free!” he whines, as always, he’s trying to get a dinner date(?) with you

“no can do, you’re having dinner with mr diamond.”

he will throw a hissy fit

“why must it always be meal times? i want to eat with you!”

will complain and complain and complain even if you ignore him

you give him a flat “i will be present as well.”

you’re so bloody infuriating

he stares at you for a whole minute. and then he closes his laptop

you look at him. what is he trying to do now?

“not what i meant.” he gently whacks you over the head with the device, “you and i. dinner. alone. get it?”

normally you stand your ground and make him go through with these meetings

but sometimes you cave and indulge him

this is one of those times

“fine, i’ll push back your meeting with the media department tomorrow.”

you see literal flowers around him as he gets his way

well, not exactly his way, because if he had his way he would be free today

a compromise for tomorrow is good enough, he supposes

he will bring you out to lunch and dinner every day if he could

if only you’d stop telling him you technically don’t need to eat and just go along with it

and if only you’d stop scheduling every. single. important. meeting. during. meal. times.

still, he finds it amusing to read your face whenever you’re in those meetings with him

the only good thing about them, really

because you will have the tiniest furrow in your eyebrows when you eat something you don’t like

and it’ll last until the taste goes away (which is usually the entire meeting)

or you’ll have the most serene expression ever (though it’s more neutral than anything, really) when you find something you like

loves it when you try to not make it obvious that you like a particular dish because you’re not discreet at all

that is all you will eat for the rest of the meeting

you are given your own room, but more often than not you find yourself in aventurine’s room at night.

mostly because he drags you away from your desk – no, scrap that, it’s only because he drags you away from your desk. otherwise you would’ve kept working. or maybe gone and did some combat training. or anything but sleep, really.

you soon realize he likes cuddling you when he sleeps

this is something you’ll never deny him if he asks

in fact, he doesn’t even need to ask nowadays

you show up in his room everyday at around the same time

if he wants a nap in the middle of the day, you’ll also be there

you notice how much more quality rest he gets when you’re by his side

and how much less nightmares bothered him compared to before

(maybe you should try casual sleeping, too?)

whenever you try to slip out of his death grip to get some documents, or to use the bathroom, or for water, he will quietly ask you where you’re going

in a very, very slurred, sleepy way

you will try to explain, and all he’ll tell you as you wrench yourself out of his arms is a quiet “stay”

how are you supposed to go if he says that while letting you go?

good luck if you’re hoping to use the bathroom, most likely you’ll have to hold it in

otherwise, if you need anything else, your scarf-serpent can get it for you

although one time it returned with your documents in its mouth and drool all over it

then you had a rigorous session trying to teach them how to coil around things to pick them up

more like you had to learn, since they’re somewhat sentient extensions of you

on the off chance that you’ll be out for the night, you’ll leave your favorite scarf with him

it’s not as comforting as your person, but it does smell like you and feel like you

he’ll take it as a placeholder until you’re back :(

aventurine hates it when you’re out of office. whether it is to represent him, or to discuss matters with clients before you pass it onto him, he hates it when he’s alone at home.

odd, because he was so used to being on his own, and he was so certain he was going to be alone for the rest of his life.

this man will sit in your office regardless of your presence

your spare scarves keep him company

imagine his surprise when a bunch of faceless noodles slither onto him

he makes the connection very quickly

did not expect that every one of your scarves are mini leviathans

he thought there was only a few, and they move between scarves

a welcome surprise because he knows these huge little guys are friendly

those are the same guys that swallow monsters, so they’re actually not very friendly

but they’re friendly to him because they’re you

one of them will coil into a pile on his lap and rest its head on his thigh

and the others will be all around him

will slobber over him 100%

he will try to pet them, and will realize that they’re really affectionate with him

they will try to eat his hands

but, like, in a not alarming way

hold his hand in their maws but will not bite. only drool

when he pats the one who has his hand, it’ll let go

literally “that’s a weird looking dog” but there's more than ten of them

when you return from your errands, the first thing you see is aventurine dragging a bunch of your snakes along with him as he practically runs to greet you.

you wrap your arms around him as he jumps towards you, and you give him a few spins before setting him down again.

then you lower your scarf

you’re comfortable enough with him to not cover yourself up anymore

oh how he loves seeing your face, aeons, you have no idea

“guys.” you snap your fingers, and the creatures collapse back into inanimate fabric

you catch all of them, of course, then you open one arm for your boss

the best part (real)

he snuggles up against your side naturally

you lift him up easily even though both your hands are busy

he’s practically sitting on your forearm as you walk around the house

princess treatment

you’ll cuddle with him properly once you drop off your stuff

“ten minutes,” you tell him, “then i’ll have to get back to work.”

he will throw another hissy fit, like, “why are you busier than i am? i’m the boss!”

you pinch his nose and go: “exactly, mr aventurine”

instantly droops like a kicked puppy

he doesn’t even try to hide it

absolutely hates it when you’re formal with him in private even if you’re joking

feels like you’re back to square one all over again

“don’t call me that,” aventurine groans as he grabs your hair and tug at it like a toddler.

you glance at him. “displeased?”

“of course!” he tries to shake your head violently, but damn you and your stupid strength. “what happened to aven?”

you don’t respond

you’re busy tossing everything onto your chair and praying nothing falls off

he moves on to slapping your face lightly

“hey, hey!” as his hands smack and grab everything that’s touchable on your head

surprisingly, you let him

he might also pull on your scarf

and after a while, he’ll resort to rubbing his cheek against yours

“are you ignoring me…?”

you sit down on the couch and set aventurine in your lap. “impatient, are we?”

“can’t help it,” he doesn’t hesitate to bury himself into your embrace. “i hate when i’m alone…”

“aven…” you pat his back, knowing full well you’re falling for his tricks again. “there, there. should i just call it a day?”

“you would?” he asks, like a child receiving a gift for the first time, “really?”

“really.” you sigh as he tugs you down into spooning him, and you watch him tangle his limbs with yours.

eventually, you pull him closer to you. jeez, there’s just no way you can win against him, is there?

#honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #aventurine #aventurine x reader #ares's voracity pathstrider tales

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wileys-russo · 4 hours

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alexia putellas ,,you cheated" Game night with the putellas family

dirty cheat II a.putellas

if there was one thing nobody could deny about your fiance, was that she was competitive, about almost everything.

even in every day domestic life with the two of you she found things to compete over though most of the time you'd not engage and she was just competing against herself.

who could brush their teeth the fastest, who could fold the laundry first, who could wash their plate up faster, who made the bed quicker, if there was a task that needed to be done alexia found a way to make a competition of it.

which is why the fortnightly game nights with her family were all the more amusing, for you anyway.

"mi hija's! bienvenido, pase pase." eli hugged you both as alexia kissed her mami's cheek, the shorter woman ushering you inside where you could already hear the sounds of the rest of her family in the other room.

"ready to win again princesa?" alexia murmered with a wink, drawing you into her side and kissing your temple as you only chuckled with a playful roll of your eyes.

"she sure is hermana, but with a better partner!" alba grinned, tugging you into a tight hug and sticking her tongue out at her older sister who looked on unamused as alba's arm remained slung around your shoulder.

"like she would choose you over me alba, realmente!" alexia scoffed, shoving her sisters head to the side and making her way into the living room, cheers of greeting ringing out as she did so.

"so, partners sí?" alba grinned at you as you raised an eyebrow at the twinkle in her eyes. "what are you up to al?" you asked suspiciously as she feigned offence, hand smacking against her chest.

"me? nothing! just want to spend time with mi cuñada." alba smiled innocently as you only hummed, allowing her to drag you into the living room as you made your rounds greeting the rest of the family, tugged down onto the lounge beside your fiance once you had.

"hey! she needs to sit with her partner, right chica?" alba smirked patting the space next to you as alexia rolled her eyes, but her mouth formed an o of shock as you stood.

"amor!" the blonde huffed in offence with wide eyes as you sent her an apologetic smile and sat down next to alba, alexia's eyes narrowing into a filthy glare directed at her younger sister who just stuck her tongue out again.

your fiance pairing up with one of her cousins instead you didn't miss the way alexia's eyes strayed to you nearly every thirty seconds, a slight pout on her lips as you smiled and focused on the game.

as the night grew later and everyone had eaten dinner the games became a little more intense, and unfortunately for alexia so did her losing streak.

"me estás jodiendo!" the taller girl swore angrily as once again she lost, slamming down her fistful of cards on the table with a scowl as eli warned her about her language, some of the family having headed home the group was smaller now.

"see? i told you, better partner." alba whispered to you as the pair of you came in second, though you gave her a curious look at the wolfish grin on her face, rapidly realizing there was something going on here as most of the group also sported the same look at alexia's reaction.

your suspicions only peaked as yet again alexia lost the next round, and given it was the game she was normally best at your fiance did not take it well.

"puta mierda esto es una puta broma!" the footballer stood to her feet, throwing her hands around and seething as you stood to try and calm her but alba pulled you back down with a shake of her head.

"alexia! take five." eli ordered, the blonde stomping out of the room with her arms crossed and you winced at the sound of the bathroom door slamming and her mami hurried after her with a huff.

"what did you do alba?" you murmured quietly as things began to be set up for the last game of the night, the smirk unable to be wiped from the younger girls face.

"nothing!" she sung out happily as you gave her a look and she chuckled. "i maybe just made sure the odds for everything was a little more in our favour and a lot less in alexia's." alba confessed as you sighed but smiled, knowing that if anyone knew how to push alexia's buttons it was her sister.

"she's going to kill you." you patted her shoulder as the girl in question returned, eli warning alexia again to keep a lid on her temper as she sat back down stone faced glaring at everyone.

"only if she finds out." alba whispered with a wink before standing to start the last game, everyone pairing off as this one was charades.

you couldn't deny that you and alba drew the long straw, your words picked were easy and you ended up scoring eleven in the time frame, alba squeezing you tightly and lifting you off your feet as you laughed and alexia cleared her throat.

"alba." her sister warned raising an eyebrow, the younger girl putting you back down on your feet with a roll of her eyes, the pair of you sitting back down as alexia and her cousin stood to take their turn.

you watched on as alexia acted out the cards, frowning each time her cousin guessed wrong and her frustrations began to show as her temper grew shorter and shorter.

"ehh football?" "no!" "skateboard?" "no!" "carrot?" "qué? no idiota!"

"times up! and you two got....three right." alba read out trying to hold back her laughter, alexia clenching her fists and exhaling shakily from her nose, her cousin sending alba a wink which was not subtle as the older girl caught it right away.

"puta de mierda!" alexia swore with a scoff, eli warning her again as her daughter waved it off. "you cheated. you all cheated!" alexia began to put things together, staring in disbelief at the grinning faces around the room.

"nooo, we would never hermana." alba cooed condescendingly and that seemed to be the final nail in the coffin as her sister lunged at her, you barely having time to dive out of the way as alexia landed on top of the younger girl.

"alexia!" you groaned with a shake of your head at your fiance as both girls fell off the lounge rolling around smacking and swearing at one another.

unfazed the rest of her family all stood and said their goodbyes, just stepping over the girls as they left until eventually it was just you, eli and a couple of their tia's helping to wash everything up.

"hey! you two." you yelled over their squabble, both girls pausing to look at you. "you, up! we're leaving amor, now." you pointed menacingly at your fiance who pushed alba away and scrambled to her feet, ignoring her sisters teasings.

saying your goodbyes to those left you pulled alexia away before she could take a swing at alba who continued to mock and pull faces, the front door closing behind you as you let go of her and marched off to the car.

"princesa!" alexia groaned hurrying after you, unlocking the car and trying to open your door for you as you quickly did it yourself and pulled it shut with a slam that had her wincing.

as she slid into her own side you faced forward, ignoring the way her eyes bore into the side of your head. "start the car alexia, i want to go home." you warned still refusing to look at her.

"bebita, come on!" alexia pleaded, poking and prodding at you as you squirmed and smacked her hands away. "mi amor, you know i am competitive!" your fiance defended, shrinking under the glare you gave her for the words.

"sí, and look at where it has gotten you. the butt of your families joke because your temper is so childish you cannot lose a card game without throwing a tantrum!" you scoffed as alexia huffed.

"i didn't throw a tantrum." your fiance mumbled with a scowl as you raised an eyebrow. "fine! maybe i am a little bit too competitive." she sighed as you rolled your eyes.

"just drive us home ale, i'm tired." you shook your head as the girl started up the car and you couldn't help but let a small smile grace your features as she leaned over to press kiss after kiss to your cheek mumbling an apology.

"vale putellas! drive,and then you can make it up to me when we get home."

#woso x reader #woso community #woso #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso blurbs

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save-the-villainous-cat · 3 days

Text

With all the strength they had left, the hero crawled into the villain’s apartment through the window. After surviving the superhero, this should have been easy but it turned out to be exhausting.

The hero had landed in the bathroom and without wasting another second, they pulled themselves up and searched through the cabinets. Unfortunately, their bloody hands left enough evidence of them breaking in already. They supposed they’d have to face the villain sooner or later, even if that meant the villain was going to throw them out again.

For now, they found something close enough to practical — a razor — and opened the first aid kit the villain usually stored under the cabinet. Before they could take out the blades, the villain opened the door.

“You’re not as quiet as you think.” The hero looked at them and smiled softly. Teeth stained with blood, heavy limbs.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” they said. With no hesitation, the villain helped them up and took the razorblades out of their hands.

“What happened to that pretty face?” they asked. With one hand on the hero’s hip, they reached for a clean towel and turned on the sink. They let the soft fabric drench in warm water and gently cleaned up the hero’s face.

It all happened so fast. The villain didn’t seem to mind that the hero was here in the middle of the night.

And they were close. So close.

Whereas the villain was focused on the hero’s face and getting rid of all that blood, the hero stared into their eyes. Maybe it was this cruel change: brutal violence coming from someone they had adored to gentle tenderness from someone they had loathed.

The villain looked down at them. Their thumb traced the hero’s jawline and the hero looked away, almost ashamed.

“You look like shit,” the villain whispered. “And you woke me up.”

“I’m sorry,” the hero said. They looked at the villain’s clothes — their underwear and a shirt. The hero blushed a little. They took the villain’s hand and reached for the razorblades. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

The hero let go of them with a gaze that lingered a little too long.

“They chipped me,” the hero explained. They cleaned the blade with some rubbing alcohol and took in a deep breath. “Chipped me like a fucking dog.”

They cut into their own forearm, watching as the blood ran down their skin. It burnt even more than the open wounds on the hero’s back. They supposed they just had gotten used to that sort of pain, even if that was impossible.

With the blade, they dug through skin and muscle, clenching their teeth until they found the little tracker. They cursed when they pushed their fingers into the wound to fish it out.

Once they had the bloody device in their hand, they let it fall to the ground and crushed it under their boot.

“I knew trackers are useless at your place. You’ve slipped through my fingers quite a few times that way.”

The villain didn’t say anything. They just stared at the hero who cleaned their arm.

It wasn’t exactly easy to crawl to their nemesis and beg for shelter. The hero was too proud to do that anyway and they had planned to leave after cutting out the microchip.

“I’m sorry to have bothered you,” the hero said.

“You didn’t bother me.” The villain took a step forward and took the hero’s hands. “Are you alright?”

The hero frowned.

“Of course I am. I’m fine. I’m doing great.”

“You’re sure about that?” The villain let their fingers intertwine and suddenly, the hero felt very tired very quickly. “You’ve been so busy these last few days. I barely got to see you. They sent over some other lame heroes.”

The hero chuckled tiredly.

“I mean, why would they think I am satisfied with all the other rabble?” One of their hands glided down the hero’s forearm where they put pressure on the wound. “You always wanted to be a hero. When did that change?”

“I don’t know,” the hero said but the desperation and the hopelessness were already settling in. It didn’t even buy them time to lie to the villain. One way or another they found out anyway and most of the time, they asked the hero questions they already had the answers to.

The hero couldn’t really take it anymore. The pain was too much, their mind was breaking more and more.

“Oh, so many tears on such a pretty face,” the villain said. They pulled the hero closer and wiped their tears away with the back of their hand. “Don’t you know it’s not your fault?”

“They turned against me,” the hero said. Their voice trembled. “All of them. They chipped me, they put a bounty on my head. They’re trying to kill me because I don’t agree with…with all this shit.”

The villain cupped their face. “With what?”

“With all this stupid collateral damage and these dumb advertisements. Most of the time I feel like a mascot, I’m barely saving any people.”

“Oh, darling.” The villain tilted their head. Their presence was comforting in a way the hero hadn’t had experienced before. Whatever they’d done to each other in the past, the hero didn’t care. They were familiar, they were warm. The hero wasn’t going to let anyone take this moment away from them. “And who exactly beat you up like this? Your boss, I assume?”

“…yeah.” They could play pretend. They could pretend the villain was closer, that they were more than acquaintances. Even if it wasn’t real, even if the villain was using them, the hero needed some affection right now. They’d gladly give the heartbreak to their future self.

“My poor hero,” the villain said softly. “Would you let me stitch you up?”

The hero nodded.

“I’ll protect you,” the villain promised. They pulled them close to hug the hero. The hero didn’t understand why they were so gentle, so kind. Most of the time, they insulted each other like children. But the hero needed this. They really did. “They will pay for this.”

#shake baby baby shake bis uns der Himmel auf den Kopf fällt #writing snippet #heroxvillain prompt #heroxvillain snippet #heroes and villains #hero #villain #hero x villain #heroxvillain #h/c

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wheeboo · 2 days

Text

all yours | yoon jeonghan

SYNOPSIS. in which you get a bit too drunk on your special day. PAIRING. yoon jeonghan x gn!reader GENRE. fluff, established relationship WARNINGS. mentions of drinking alcohol and throwing up, reader has long enough hair to be pulled back, cursing, terms of endearment WORD COUNT. 1.4k

requested from anon: Hi hope all is well, just wanted to say Congrats on the milestone! You deserve it! And if it’s okay I would like to request #29 and #52 from prompt list 1 with Jeonghan thank you in advance if you do it. Congrats again to 2k you honestly deserve it :) - #29: "I do love you, you know. Even if I'm shit at showing it." - #52: "Shut up, you love me. Why else would you be here, taking care of me while I hurl into a toilet?"

notes: thank u sm anon 😭🫶 ur so so sweet ily AAAA sending consensual smooches ur way 😚😚 also genuinely did not know what to title this lmfao

join the 2k celebration!

Okay, maybe you've had a bit too much to drink tonight.

It's your birthday anyway, so surely you have the right to go a little bit overboard on your special day... right?

"Ugh, I feel like shit," You mumble groggily, your body drifting and hitting the bathtub right next to you with a thud as the sounds of the toilet flushing bounce off the walls of the bathroom.

Jeonghan just crosses his arms together, leaning against the doorway with a sly smirk to his face. His eyes peer over your flushed face, slightly tousled hair and overall cute, disheveled appearance. You huff a breath as your gaze meets his, and a small, almost dreamy smile of your own forms on your face despite knowing how absurd you look right now.

"How do I look?" You ask, drawing your words out drunkenly.

"Honestly?" Jeonghan starts, and you lift a brow in anticipation. "You look ravishingly awful."

The words that leave his mouth has your face twisting in confusion, your brain hardly processing whatever the hell he just said (you'll take it as a compliment nonetheless, thanks to your cloudy mind).

However, Jeonghan just chuckles, fully stepping his way into the bathroom and towards where you are plopped down on the tile floor. He carefully sits himself down on the rim of the bathtub, expression softening right away with concern as he reaches out to gently brush a stray strand of hair from your face, feeling the warmth on your face from the alcohol to his fingers.

You lean into his touch instinctively, closing your eyes for a few seconds. "My body is going to hate me in the morning."

Jeonghan retracts his hand slightly, but not before his fingertips lingers your cheek, sending a jolt through your already-buzzing body and causing your eyes to flutter open. You can feel the heat creeping back up your neck, suddenly feeling shy under his gaze.

"Hmm, not if I take care of you real well, yeah?" he muses teasingly, and you could only groan in response, feeling the alcohol earlier make your head spin once more. But a tiny, sober part of you registers the warmth in his gaze.

That is, until you can start to feel something bubble up your throat, and before you can react, your stomach lurches, and you're scrambling for the toilet just in time to expel the contents of your stomach. You heave and retch, feeling utterly miserable as Jeonghan helps by pulling back your hair and rubbing your back soothingly.

As the wave of nausea passes, your hand releases its hold on the cold porcelain of the toilet seat. You lean back once more, nearly toppling over before Jeonghan's hands catch you by the shoulders, helping to straighten up your posture. You let out a sluggish sigh.

"Well, maybe you're not wrong about your body hating you," he says jokingly, then squeezes your shoulders right after as if reassure you. "I would not want to be the receiving end of all... that."

You roll your eyes in playful annoyance and yank his grip off you, his laughter ringing in your ears. "I... Shut up, you love me. Why else would you be here, taking care of me while I hurl into a toilet?"

A feigned gasp leaves Jeonghan as he dramatically clutches his chest. But the inebriated glare you throw his way doesn't seem to faze him in the slightest. You catch the way his face quickly dissolves into his horribly distinguishable shit-eating grin.

"Ah, you figured out my secret, my dearest," he responds with an exaggerated flair, cupping your face gently with his hand. "You getting wasted made you more perceptive than I thought."

You swat at him weakly, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "You're impossible."

"Only for you." He cheesily presses a kiss to the top of your head. "How are you feeling? Can you stand up?"

"Mmmh... help me?" You laggardly open your arms up to him, a pout forming at your mouth.

Your eyes are too heavy to catch the way Jeonghan is gazing at you so adoringly right now. He takes your outstretched arms and helps to hoist you up to your feet. For a moment, you're eye-to-eye, your head spinning slightly from the sudden movement and the world tilting a little as you stand.

Jeonghan secures a hand at your lower back as he carefully leads you out of the bathroom and back into your bedroom, catching a glimpse to the remains of the party from earlier scattered about the room. Balloons hang lazily at the ceiling, confetti laying across the floor𑁋you can deal with it in the morning.

"You're a hot mess," he comments teasingly, though there's a fondness in his tone as he guides you to the bed.

You flop down onto the mattress with a groan, the softness of the pillows cushioning against your throbbing head. Jeonghan disappears for a minute to retrieve a bottle of pills from the bathroom and a glass of water from the kitchen, placing it on your bedside table before sitting down beside you, his hand reaching out to brush hair away from your forehead.

You crack open an eye to look at him, feeling yourself trying so hard to not fall asleep on the spot.

"Do... you think they know?"

Jeonghan looks back down at you. "Who?"

"Every... Everyone who came today, uh..." You mutter, motioning the air with your hand. "I didn't... do anything weird out there, right? We haven't really told anyone about us yet..."

Jeonghan purses his lips together, eyelids fluttering as if he's trying to remember the events of the party. He crosses his arms together, and you should probably know from the smirk appearing at his face that𑁋

"Hm, like, weird as in when you tried to kiss me earlier after you sang karaoke? Or𑁋"

"Are you being serious right now?!" There's a long, drawn out unintelligible sound that you whine as you bury your face into the pillow, the cool fabric soothing against your flushed cheeks. "Oh my god, I'm so stupid..."

"My love, I still don't entirely understand why we have to hide it," Jeonghan says gently, his fingers trailing lightly along your arm. "Your affection is pretty obvious, you know."

You snort at that, but you can't really deny it anyway since yeah, you are pretty affectionate with him. And it isn't that you don't want people to know. The thought of people knowing is completely fine, but it's really just that your friends can be absolute nutcases sometimes, and you really don't want to be at the teasing end of the stick right now when all you want is a bit of privacy, at least in the beginning.

"I just... I want you all to myself, you know?" You ramble drowsily, words still slightly slurred. "Just wanna... um, keep this between us for now. N-Not that I'm ashamed or anything, I just... want this to be ours."

Jeonghan lets his eyes take you in for a few moments, a soft look gracing over his features. He glances down at the way his hand seems to seems to instinctively find yours, your fingers intertwining loosely. Frankly, he’s already yours𑁋been yours from the moment the thought of you started to become a frequent visitor to his head.

"Of course," he assures lightly, not taking his eyes off you even while adjusting the pillows so you're in a more comfortable position. "Get some sleep now, okay?"

"M'kay," You utter out, feeling the weight of the bed lift when Jeonghan stands up. Yet as a thought crosses your mind, you call out to him, "Jeonghan?"

He pauses, turning back to look at you with gentle eyes.

"I... I do love you, you know," You confess slowly, almost hesitantly, like that small flicker of sobriety had finally peeked through the haze of alcohol. "Even if I'm shit at showing it."

Jeonghan feels his heart racing in his chest, and the heat flaring at the tips of his ears. On the surface, it's normally hard to detect such reactions to whatever loving, cheesy, romantic stuff you've said to him (since usually, he'd rather tease you into the grave instead). But on the inside, his heart is practically doing cartwheels, somersaults, and backflips all at once𑁋he would quite literally do anything for you.

"Are you going to remember any of this in the morning?" he remarks playfully.

You only shrug loosely, eyelids drooping from exhaustion. "I might... maybe. But, uh, at least you know, right?"

His lips just curl up lovingly. Even if you don’t remember it, those three words would be the first things he would say every morning anyway.

"I love you too, angel," he says against the skin of your temple. "Happy birthday."

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ghouljams · 2 days

Text

More fae!Gaz, he's so boyfriend, he's always there when you need him. Even if you didn't know he'd be there or that you'd need him! That's just how great he is!

You duck under an awning to escape the sudden downpour, already soaked to the bone. You look out at the pouring rain, tip your head to try and get a glimpse at how the clouds are moving, and sigh. You'll just have to wait it out. You wish you'd brought your umbrella.

The door beside you chimes, and there's the click fwump of an umbrella being opened. You glance at the man looking out at the rain, you recognize him. You've had a few conversations with him. Not friends, not even acquaintances, but not strangers either. What was his name again?

Something whispers through your mind, bounces and echoes: Gaz, Gaz, Gaz.

"Gaz?" You confirm. He turns to looks at you, and his eyes spark with recognition. He smiles and you smile back.

"Hey there sunshine," Gaz grins, his eyes drag over you, bounce across your chest and the way your soaked shirt clings to you, "gone for a swim?"

You laugh, shake your head and then shake it harder to try and get some of the water off it. You don't know how rain always feels so much colder and wetter than regular water, but you can feel it drip off you thickly. Gaz laughs, it sounds like chocolate. You don't- you don't know how to describe it. It's like chocolate. Rich and sweet, but dark with a hint of bitterness that makes you want to hear it again and again. You find yourself staring at him, pushing your hair off your forehead to stop the water from rolling down into your eyes. Already you've had to blink away the drops that settled on your lashes.

"Didn't bring my umbrella," you explain. Gaz nods, the cocks his head back towards the shop door.

"S'why I stopped in for one."

"Smart, don't know why I didn't think of that." You watch the rain fall for a moment, before you're struck with recollection. "We live in the same building right?" Gaz hums.

"You knocked on my door for a cuppa once." You nod and he shifts his grip on the umbrella, holding it between you. "You asking to share?"

"Could save me a few pounds," You're only half joking, stepping closer until your shoulder brushes his.

"What if I'm not headed for the tube?" You look up at Gaz, watch him cock a brow curiously. He never loses his smile. Something itches in the back of your mind, warning you against friendly strangers. Something else quiets it, pets the scared animal into submission with that soft echoing whisper: Gaz, Gaz, Gaz.

"Then you can just drop me off at the nearest station and be on your way," you reason. That seems to amuse him, something sparking in his eyes that lights up his smile. He's warm. Green. Natural. You can smell the dirt of a nearby flower pot, the dust of the city. Petrichor, your brain supplies. The smell of dust after rain.

Mentally you kick yourself. From a fucking Doctor Who episode ya numpty. Trying to sound poetic when you're just quoting a damn- and it's not even an episode you liked! Ugh.

Gaz taps your forehead, two gentle taps that make you blink. There's something familiar in the gesture, friendly in a way that's overly friendly for how close you aren't.

"Looked like you were getting lost in there," he says when you smack your hand against the tapped skin.

"Well throw down a rope then," you grumble. Your therapist is right you gotta start being more present. This is why you get caught in the rain, too busy day dreaming.

"How about I get you home first," Gaz jokes.

"Just to the station is fine," you tell him, hurrying to stay under the umbrella as he starts walking. Gaz shrugs, the umbrella shifts, and you press closer to avoid soaking your shoulder a second time.

"I'm going home anyway, may as well take you with me."

You roll your eyes. An alarm bell rings in the back of your mind, smothered by a thick magic that whispers to you: Gaz, Gaz, Gaz.

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buckttommy · 3 days

Text

I have an idea for a full-season Eddie arc that I want to put into the universe. tim, feel free to plagiarize me yet again (but this time. i want a dm. i know you're around here somewhere come say hi). So. Anyways. Season 8

8x1: Eddie has broken up with Marisol. By the time this episode rolls around, they've already been broken up for a couple weeks/months. As mentioned in 7x5, he's struggling with the idea of Catholic guilt, struggling with the idea of faith in general. He mentions, in casual conversation, to Buck, Chim or Tommy (who is still with Buck on screen *coughs loudly*) that he's thinking about going down to Texas for a while. His grandmother is the most religious person he knows and he's always found comfort being in her space and soaking in her presence, so he wants to talk to her about his feelings. Whoever he's talking to agrees that's a good idea.

8x2 - 8x7: A couple episodes pass with the idea of Eddie taking some time off in the background of the audience's mind. Nothing major, just little throw away lines about getting the truck tuned up before he makes a big road trip, paying bills before he leaves, things like that.

8x8: The 118 responds to a call of a fire in a church. Two people are getting married and their families are in attendance. Eddie doesn't go inside the church but he fights the fire from outside and helps treat the injured. Almost everyone is pulled out safely but the mother of the bride. Her daughter is crying because she and her mother aren't on good terms and she doesn't want it to be too late for them to patch things up. Eddie and the bride get to talking, and the bride mentions she always felt like she wasn't enough for mom, that she found it impossible to live up to her standards. They had an argument before the fire broke out because the bride realized, on-screen, that she didn't actually want to marry the man she was going to marry because she was in love with someone else (that's what started the fire, her making that announcement caused someone to pass out, and blah blah blah). But she was only marrying this man because her mom thought he would be good for her, and the brides makes a comment about always feeling like she was living her life for someone else, in service of a standard she could never reach. Eddie, of course, can relate. The bride's mother passes away and, it's a tragedy and is treated as such, but at the end of the episode during the voiceover (*coughs louder*), we see the bride reuniting with the person she's actually in love with because her mother's death means she's free from having to try to, like, be perfect.

8x10: Eddie's been getting a call from his dad all throughout the episode but he's been ignoring it because [shenanigans]. This is a light-hearted episode and the tone will be important because when he finally answers the phone during the last five minutes of the episode, he's like "Dad, come on, jesus, what is it" and his dad tells him that his grandmother has passed away.

8x11: Midseason premiere, the episode begins with Isabel's funeral, mainly because I want to see Eddie/Ryan in a nice tailored black suit (timothy, i'm sure you can relate). Anyway, the funeral is outside because it's important Eddie doesn't go inside a church yet. When it's finished, he goes back to the reception at Isabel's house. His sisters are there, everyone is there. He offers to help his mother in the kitchen and she tries to make conversation, but Helena Diaz has never actually learned how to relate to her son, so she says the wrong thing. It doesn't go well (but that's something to be circled back to in another season). Eddie looks at the pictures on his grandma's wall / mantle / whatever and sees himself and his sisters and his cousins when they were kids, smiling big at church christenings or whatever, and he's like... "I don't recognize this kid who was so happy to be inside of religion. I didn't know who I was then, and I definitely don't know who I am now because of it". He doesn't say it, but that's the vibe ofc, and Ryan's face is expressive enough that he can pull that off.

8x12: He's back in LA. Everyone is treating him with the utmost care because they are good people and they love him, and one evening, Eddie gets a visitor. He opens the door and it's his sister. (one of them lives in LA, remember?). In my head, that's always been Sophia, so he asks what she's doing here, and she holds up a bottle of wine. They sit on the sofa, they talk and reminisce about their grandmother, make apologies for the fact that they haven't been around for each other much despite living in the same city (but this isn't Eddie's family issues storyline, this is the Catholic guilt storyline. We will circle back to this in S9). So Eddie pitches the idea of faith to her, and asks what it means to her. It's the same question he wanted to ask his grandmother. Sophia says she has faith in the universe, faith that things always happen the way they're meant to, and it's a good answer but it doesn't speak to the core of Eddie's problem, which is that he always feels beholden to something he can't name/place.

8x14: Eddie continues to ask the people around him (Buck, Athena, Tommy, Chim) about faith and what it means to them. They all give him different answers. Athena has faith in purpose. Chim has faith in his family. Buck has faith in the inherent good of humanity. Tommy has faith in himself. It's not very helpful in the sense that no one gives him his answer, but it does reveal to him that faith can, does, and should exist absent of guilt, that maybe he's been doing it (or was taught) all wrong.

8x15: Insert an embarrassingly on the nose call about a kind, nerdy, reserved man who's lived by an unspoken rulebook all his life. He came out to Los Angeles on a whim and suffers from a hiking mishap where he's physically blinded by [something] and subsequently needs to trust that the 118, these people he literally cannot see, will save him. When they pull him to safety, he berates himself for even coming out to Los Angeles in the first place because he's not the kind of guy who does this, he just wanted to do something for him and now he feels stupid. And Eddie (because of course it's Eddie) is just like "no, you didn't do anything wrong. Look, you took a leap of faith (episode title btw). That's more than what most people can say. Maybe it didn't work out in this instance, but who knows how it'll work out tomorrow, or the next day. You don't know the future. None of us do, so maybe stop trying to live according to some giant colossal plan and just... live, and try your best. Isn't that all we can do?" And he watches the guy get airlifted away (thanks Tommy! *coughs even louder*) and it's like his lightbulb moment, like, oh. Yeah. He finally gets it.

8x16: Eddie walks into a church for the first time in years, and for the first time all season. It looks exactly how he remembers; wooden pews, high ceilings, the works. He takes a seat on one of the benches and prays / talks aloud to God and is just like, "I don't really know who you are and I don't know how to be what you want me to be. All my life I've been trying to be what everyone wants me to be to the point where I just don't even know who I am anymore, if I ever knew. So I don't know who you are, but I know I am who you made me to be, and I don't know who that is, but I know that person is enough for me right now. And maybe I'll figure you out along the way, maybe I won't. But, right now, what I know is that i can't be your perfect son because I can't be perfect at all, and I need to let go of the idea that I can and start living my life for me." So he walks out of the church and not much changes, but everything changes. You know?

And, like, obviously the story would need to be flushed out a little more. Obviously, this story centers more of the idea of faith than the idea of explicit guilt, but they're one in the same anyway because you can't have guilt without failed/presumably "failed" expectations. In this case, religious or spiritual expectation. So. I don't know. But there's just something so sexy about the idea of Eddie systematically and intentionally dismantling and releasing himself from all the things that have kept him from growing over the years. Starting with his survivors guilt in S5 and working his way through Catholic guilt in S8, I just love the idea of Eddie being purposeful in his own healing, especially in this post-breakdown era. Plus it'll give him a chance to have a storyline that's not romance-focused cos we've been leaning a bit too heavily into those. 🙃 But anyways. (Next up is his issues with Helena. btw. because we have yet to circle back to his family issues in canon but we certainly need to).

#Sorry Isabel you were the sacrificial lamb #I wrote this instead of working ermmmm okay back to the grind as they say #jack.txt #tv: 911 #jack answers mail #8a speculation #8b speculation #ish #no read more sorry. i talk a lot and you should all be used to it.#tim minear #ok no for real i got work to do lmfaoooo bye #EVERYONE MANIFEST IT WITH ME GIRLS

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buckleysbitch · 8 hours

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Okay kind of out there ask, dom reader teasing and topping Abby while Ellie is a little perv and watches from behind them. maybe it's not that out there idk, i just like bottom Abby its so fun

summary - what was supposed to be a chill night in with your roommates takes a hard turn.

warnings - 18+. FILTH. this is FILTH. lowkey dubcon if you squint REALLY hard, intro is cheesy asf so i won’t blame you if you skip it

authors note - i did not proof read this bc i needed to rub one out after writing this jesus chriST anyways requests are open again finally . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“okay, okay,” abby chuckles as she gets the perfect idea. “so we think we know everything about each other right?”

you and ellie turn to each other, both curled up on opposite ends of the couch, and nod in agreement, as ellie passes you her neatly rolled joint, both of your eyes following your cocky roommates detailed arms.

“so,” ellie coughs, “where’s this going then abby?”

“jesus give me a second, williams!” abby shouts, that rare, adorable smile that makes you absolutely melt appearing. “let’s play hot seat.”

ellie rolls her eyes unceremoniously, and peels herself off the couch. “okay, okay!” you notice her ears burning pink underneath her auburn hair, pondering to yourself what an innocent game such as this would make her such a mess.

“okay okay, who wants to go first?” abby asks, as ellie turns away slightly, avoiding eye contact, biting back a smile. her chiseled features glowing in the moonlight through the window. “well, i suggested the game, so how bout you, sugar?” abby gestures to you. your hands start to get clammy, ellie’s odd energy throwing you for a loop.

“cool, yeah.” you agree, making your way over to abby’s chair in the corner of the room.

“okay, els, you know how this works right?” abby questions, as ellie quickly interjects.

“d’you think i’m five? gimme a break dude!” she laughs, playfully punching abby’s shoulder.

“okay, okay….” abby chuckles again as she sets a one minute timer on her phone. “and time starts….now.”

“okay coming in hot, filthiest fantasy.” ellie’s eyes widen with desire as she asks you her question.

“no doubt, wanna have someone watch as i put a girl in her place. sounds so fuckin fun.” you explain nonchalantly as the two girls watch you take the final drag of the minuscule joint between your plush lips.

abby and ellie give each other a quick look before abby blurts out “do you wanna make that come true now?”

you cough, waving the smoke out of your face, laughing. “the fuck, anderson? like….” the girls eyes widen, eyeing you in your workout shorts and tank top. “oh, you’re serious.”

“what is it angels, you wanna see this?” you creep up from the chair, confidence building with every motion. pulling off your tank top and throwing it in ellie’s face, your nipples perk up at the sensation of the cool air.

“fuck….” abby whispers breathlessly, using every fiber of strength to not palm her clit at this very second.

“c’mere abs…lemme take care of you.” you murmur sultrily, running your hand down her braid as you straddle her thigh. “wanna watch, els?” you motion to the stunned girl, her nimble fingers already down her boxers. “ah, ah, ah…..” you whisper to her, pulling her fingers out and sucking on the wetness from her digits. “you’re gonna wanna save that. just getting started.” her breath hitches, wide eyes taking in the warmth of your mouth around her fingers.

as you’re finishing up, you feel abby brushing up against your ass, and going to grope it. “don’t even think about it anderson. you do what i say, yeah?” you ask, pinning her muscular arms up above her head. the blondes expression goes soft, submitting to your energy. “stay.”

“that’s a good girl.” you whisper, before locking your lips in hers. she tastes just how you always imagined; coffee and cherries. she can’t help but buck up her hips into yours, desperate for any friction. “was that….your….plan…all along?” you ask, one hand around her throat while your pouty lips leave tender kisses on her collarbone.

“m-mhm!” she nods, ellie’s faced flushed in awe, scanning the two of you.

“yeah? i could tell from the second you suggested that game….sluts. both of you.” you chuckle, before nearly tearing her muscle tank off her toned body and connecting your gooey mouth to her petite nipples. the moan that comes out of her at this stage is guttural; you smile to yourself knowing you can make these girls fold with a simple kiss. “tell me what you want angel….” you coo, circling her ribs with your nails. without warning, she gets too impatient and starts rubbing her clothed cunt against your thigh. “well….if you can’t behave, maybe i’ll just play with ellie for a bit.” abby whines as you peel yourself off her, as ellie’s eyes darken.

“let’s see how wet you are…”

ellie quickly rips her boxers off, allowing you to spread her pale thighs. her cunt is quite literally dripping. thank fuck you have a leather couch.

“may i?” you ponder from between her thighs. she bobbles her head yes uncontrollably, only stopping to throw her head back in pleasure when you lick a thick stripe up her puffy pussy. “god, y’taste so fuckin good….” you mumble, looking back to abby for a moment. “learned your lesson yet?” your eyes taunting her, before diving face first into ellie’s pussy, no hesitation. the poor girl can barely get a moan out before-

“i know you bought that strap….saw the box.” she sighs out, relieved.

“sorry els…” you giggle, a thin web of spit connecting your drenched lips to her pussy. “i’ll get you later. gotta take care of that slut first. be good and watch, and i’ll reward you again.” she gulps in response, giving you a light kiss.

you motion for the girls to wait, and scurry off to your room to get yourself ready. soon you’re back, bottle of lube in hand, rubbing the cool gel on your 7 inch length. abby’s eyes widen, likely not realizing how big your dick really was.

“this okay?” you ask, hovering over her neatly trimmed pussy. she nods, whimpering. “words, angel….”

“y-yes!” she gasps out, desperately rutting her hips against the tip of your dick. anything, anything for a taste of that delicious friction.

“good girl….” kissing her forehead, you sink into her with ease, her eyes rolling back sinfully as you bottom out in one stroke. “look so pretty like this…s’fuckin obedient….”

her veins melt back into her freckled shoulders as her senses succumb to all of you. her moans are fucking pornographic, you almost wish you got it on video….

in which ellie already has her phone shakily pointing at the two of you, her hand back between her now bare thighs, rubbing lazy circles over her clit. all that’s left of her is her flannel, her breasts poking out from in between the the buttons. because let’s be real, she never wears a damn bra so she can whip them out easily.

“jesus abs….s’fuckin tight.” you moan out, lightly scratching at her biceps. “takin me so pretty….never thought i’d get to have you like this.” the blonde sobs out your name in reply, desperately flailing to close her legs to relieve the pressure in her stomach as you pry her open. “you better stop, or i’ll take you from behind instead.”

“promise?”

and that’s how you ended up with abby andersons back arched for you, ass up, with your cock so deep in her cunt ellie can see the silouhette of you in her abdomen.

“yeah? you wanted this, huh?” you pant, the only sounds that echo through the room are simultaneous moans from the two girls and the squelching of their juices. abby’s noise more prominent as she shrieks in pleasure while you yank her braid so far back she has to stare at ellies glazed over cunt just out of reach while you ruthlessly thrust into her.

“answer or you won’t fuckin cum.” you bellow, tightening your grip on her locks.

“yes! y-yes! need to cum…hah…hah….hah….s’bad!”

“atta girl.” you groan, spreading her pussy to watch her cream a perfect white ring all over your strap, your own high peaking, your thighs shaking in pleasure.

the three of you collapse onto the couch, all going silent for a moment to catch your breath….before bursting out into uncontrollable giggles.

“gotta do that more often, huh?” abby smirks, with the satisfaction of knowing her stupid little plan worked.

“mhm….” you agree, brushing your hands up against the two girls. “gonna put els in her place next time though…”

you shoot a glance at the lanky girl, and her eyes go hazy.

part 2….?

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rexlroze · 3 days

Text

𝟐 — 𝐃𝐢𝐳𝐳𝐲 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐭

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Hobie Brown / SpiderPunk x Fem! Reader

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 4.5k

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Use of Y/N, No physical description of reader other than mostly height comparison. Swearing, Mention of alcohol, drinking, vomiting, Fluff.

𝑁𝑎𝑣𝑖𝑔𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑠

𝑀𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡

A/N: I honestly had to rethink this over and over again so many times even though I was like half way thru the damn chapter so that's why making this took me long, also the fact I have the attention span of a child. I was really not sure about this whole thing cuz it kinda felt too sudden but hopefully, it turned out fine? for me it did tbh but like. *blink* yk? Or maybe it's just because I'm not confident in my fucking writing skills and need validation for every damn step I take<3 But anyways, I made half of the notes for this chapter during math class and the teacher caught me so that too (Spoiler Alert: I got sent to the principal's office :3) but that's besides the point. Also if some of the characters were a little OOC, I'm very sorry- I tried my best to make them as accurate as possible (some inaccurate shit tends to get on my nerve, mostly if it's produced by me) annnnd I need to stop ranting💀. I don't take requests nor do I plan on doing so in the future. Happy reading! 😉

Chapter 2 >>> Chapter 3

Each Stroke of paint is smooth, filling the wall with a little more color than before. The bristles of the paint brush gently swipes over the wall. Music flowed into your ears and through, making you hum.

The atmosphere was calming, like nothing could ever—

“Whatcha listenin’ to?” A teasing voice appeared beside you making you jump and your shoulder tense up.

Right. You forgot he was still here. Pushing your headphones off, “a song.” You answered flatly, turning away from him, your back facing Hobie as you dipped your paint brush into the thick minty liquid that was within the metal bucket and slid the brush across the wall.

“Really? I'll have to check it out when I get home.”

You scoff at the sarcasm in his tone.

After yesterday, he helped you with a little cleaning. You thought he was probably going to dip and disappear from your life after that so when he returned the next day (today), it did surprise you a little. He's been just hanging around. You don't know why, he doesn't owe you anything. “Why are you helping me again?” You turned to him with a quirked eyebrow.

“Mate, you've asked me that like 4 times already.”

“And each time, I haven't gotten a proper answer.”

This time, he's the one to scoff. “Is it that bad to want to just help somebody?”

“You're dodging the question again.” You say in a sing-song voice.

He holds his hands up in surrender, “aight aight. I'm just tryna help out a friend of a friend, y'know? Plus. I ain't' hurtin’ anyone, right?”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“Exactly what it means, love.”

You sighed, your arm falling to your side. Your other hand coming up to pinch the bridge of your nose, “okay. I'll admit, I'm being a little… douchey.” You say, biting your lip, “But I can't say that I don't appreciate your help, and company.”

“Little's an understatement.” Hobie quipped, snickering to himself which made you throw a side glance in his direction. An innocent smile spread across his face.

You rolled your eyes turning back to the wall to continue what you were doing. Hobie took it as a sign to pursue his side of the wall.

A small spot was left just at the top of the wall making you push yourself up on your tiptoes, trying to get to the empty white patch on top of the wall.

Hobie, who was distracted by his own work, took a glance at you when he heard a few groans of frustration. Seeing you so frustrated over such a small thing brought a small smirk to his face. He settled his brush down into the paint bucket and made his way to you, your head turning to him when you caught a glimpse of him in the corner of your eye extending his hand, beckoning for you to give him the brush you held.

You raised your eyebrow but gave in, settling the brush into his extended hand, your fingers grazing his palm before you quickly withdrew your hand to your side.

He stepped forward closer to you and the wall, making you step back away, giving him space as he took care of the last white spot on the wall.

“Thank you,” you gave him a small smile and a nod.

“No problem.” He returned the smile. You two stood there holding eye contact. His eyes were as pretty as they were in the poster. No. Prettier. You thought, why? You didn't know.

You quickly cleared your throat and looked away to look at your progress the two of you had made whilst he sunk the paint brush back into the depths of the mint paint after filling the small white spot with paint.

The two of you had already completed three walls, the last wall was just about half done. The only other thing left to paint was the closet, you'd get to that later.

“You wanna go get a drink?” Hobie suddenly asked, turning his head towards you, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his leather vest.

You rubbed a hand over your jaw, the thought of a break was very enticing right about now since you'd been busy for about a solid 4-5 hours. You answered after a second or two of silence. “Sure. I could use a little break.”

“Good cuz I know an awesome pub around here.”

“Lead the way.” You said extending your arm towards the door.

—

The two of you walked side by side, Hobie’s gaze fixed on the rock he kept kicking in front of him during your walk, yours lost in the sky that was split into hues of yellow and pink.

“So, I haven't really seen you around here before.” Hobie suddenly spoke up after his rock companion got left behind, a small pout formed on his face which disappeared as quickly as it appeared when it did but obviously he wasn't going back just to retrieve a rock.

“Just moved here about a few days ago, used to live in York with my parents.” You answered, crossing one of your arms behind your head.

“Hm.” He nodded before silence fell over the two of you again, seems neither of you knew what to say. Your eyes lingered on the sky, watching the purple mixing into the pink and orange.

This time, you decided to break the silence. “So, where are we going?” Your head turned towards him, tilting your head a little.

“It's a surprise.” He answered, shrugging his shoulders.

“It's a bar.”

“Your point?”

“I mean, how ‘exciting’ can a bar really be?” You snorted.

“Depends, you ever been in an underground pub?”

“No— say what now?” You gawked, turning to Hobie with wide eyes who just smirked and lifted his chin. When he didn't continue elaborating further, you decided to poke at the subject. “Wait, c'mon. You gotta tell me more.”

Chuckling, he let out a low whistle. “No, I don't.”

“You can't just tell me we're going to an underground bar then shut up. Like- what if I get kidnapped or sumn?” You exaggerated, throwing your hands up in the air.

“I'll be right there beside you, love, won't even let anyone lay a hand. Good?” He proposed, playfully tilting his head a little.

“You're torturing me.” You groaned.

“Maybe that's my plan.” He shrugged, flicking invisible lint off his jacket.

“...”

“How do I know you're not the one who's trying to kidnap me?” You narrowed your eyes at him. “Doesn't it seem oddly weird you just randomly appear at my parlor, offer me help and now you're taking me to a very secret underground bar.”

As Hobie heard you ramble on, he couldn't help but start to chuckle. His chuckle twisting into a flown blown laugh as you threw a playful punch in his shoulder.

“Tell me. You have trust issues or something?” He chuckled, wiping an unshed tear from his eye. “Just have a little patience. It'll be worth it, I promise. I mean, you can always go back if you’re too paranoid.”

“Hilarious.”

“I'm being serious, I can walk you back right now if you'd like.” He offered, slowing down.

Your lips parted as you thought about it for a quick second before shaking your head. “Nah, no thank you. I'm coming along.”

“Hm, suit yourself.” He shrugged looking back to the front of the street. Your footsteps falling in sync with one another once more.

Silence taking over, punctuated by the honking motorcycles and cars and the birds chirping.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Twelve minutes later, the both of you stood before an abandoned 2 storey office building. It looked like it hadn't been used in decades with its cracked windows which reflected the creamy moonlight. Graffiti turned the concrete structure into a riot of colors, doodles, swear words and penises with overgrown vines that clawed their way up the sides.

As Hobie strode towards the door, his hand inches away from pushing the door when you suddenly spoke up, “it's in there?”

“Yeah, pretty much.” He said turning his head towards you, “I know it don’ look it but I promise it's on purpose. Keeps the coopers away.”

“Ehh… I don't know. I'm starting to believe the whole “you're trying to kidnap me” thing.” Skepticism traced your voice.

“Oh, c’mon. Just trust me.”

“That's what I'm scared to do.” You scoffed. “This looks like a place where serial killers would stuff their victims in.”

“Dunno, never tried digging around. Two bodies at best?” He analyzed jokingly, covering up his laugh with a cough as he saw you pale a little.

“You're not funny.”

“Dunno ‘bout that, love.” He snickered. “You comin’?” He didn't wait for you to answer before he disappeared into the building.

You crossed your arms tapping your foot, not wanting to follow him in because of your stubbornness but something about standing alone sent chills down your spine.

I'm gonna kill him. You quickly sprinted into the office-like building following Hobie's direction, running away from something you don't even know.

You find yourself walking behind Hobie who walks up to an elevator across the room. The walls were crumbling, chairs laidon the floor, tables flipped upside down “Why the hell is this place so run down?”

“It's a meeting ground made by the government, basically all the corrupted and secret shit that they wanted no one knowing happened around here but word got out. Eventually punks started graffiting the grounds, protesting, sneaking in and eventually drove them out to who knows where. Started using it as a club and a speakeasy after cuz it was spacious grounds. Coopers don’ blink an eye towards this direction cuz they're bloody cowards.” He casually explains (leaving out the part where he whooped their asses and corrupted all their data with a chip he made as Spider-Punk but you didn't need to know that.)

He pressed a few buttons which opened up the elevator doors. Wordlessly, he gestured to you to get in.

“And you know this how?” You lifted an eyebrow climbing into the elevator, he followed suit.

When you asked that, it brought a proud smile to Hobie's face, “I was one of the punks.” He answered nonchalantly without glancing at you, the pockets of his leather vest stuffed with his hands. The elevator door slid back together locking the both of you in.

“Of course you were,” you said it like it was one of the most obvious things in the world for which you got a little nudge in the shoulder from his elbow. He pressed a button on a small keypad beside the door making the elevator flow down.

The elevator finally stopped making a small chiming sound after what seemed like minutes but in reality. It had been barely more than 40 seconds. Guess time just slowed down when you're in the presence of awkward silence… or Hobie.

The doors opened up letting bright neon lights seep in and illuminate your face. The ‘bar’ (which looked more like a rave) was more lively than most bars you've gone to. Vibrant blends of pink, blue, and yellow casted over you.

“W'dya think?” A voice shouted over the blasting songs, Hobie's voice. You just stared at him wide eyed, unable to make up a coherent response. “You'll get used to it.” He nudged you before stepping out the elevator, signaling for you to follow him.

You shook yourself out of your daze and promptly caught up with him. You swore to god you've put way too much trust in someone you met a day ago. Maybe not even a complete 24 hours yet but you're too deep in and too stubborn to turn around.

“You come here often then?” You arched an eyebrow in his direction, his gaze straight ahead but he tilted his head a little to meet yours.

“Occasionally. Usually—” He was cut off by someone who called out to him in the crowd. “Yo, it's Hobie everyone!”

People glanced in your (his) direction, waving at him and cheering him on. Said man waves back, winking in the direction of a few gals who probably fainted with how excited they got but you didn't bother checking.

“Mr.Popular, huh?”

“That's one way to put it. I come here to hang out often so I know people.”

“Do you usually take all your girls here?” You suddenly blurted out, heat clawed its way up your neck when you processed what you just had said. He raised an eyebrow, unable to suppress the shit-eating grin that came onto his face. “Shut up, I didn't mean it like that.” You grumbled, turning your head away from him.

“I didn't say anything,” he shrugged, feigning obliviousness.

“You implied it.”

“Did I?”

Something about his tone just wanted to make you sink into the floor and become one with the secretundergroundbarraveparty (whatever it was) or maybe punch that stupid smile off his face but you didn't do either. Instead you continued making your way through the crowd with him until you reached a bar. Several drinks lined up on several shelves behind the counter. You could tell that it wasn't just some cheap liquor crap either. It made you wonder where they had gotten it from.

He sat down on one of the stools, locking eyes with you before patting the stool beside him. Before you could say anything, your body moved on its own, settling yourself on the stool. Nobody else was really seated near your guys, most of the people were already drunk and partying.

Hobie leaned back against nothing but the air particles, his eyes resting on you when you stirred a little, turning to face him, “what?” you tilted your head.

“Nothin’, just thinking.” He gave you one of his small smiles before his attention averted to the raven-haired girl that walked through one of the doors that was hidden behind the counter. Her eyes fell on the two of you making them pop open, “are my eyes deceiving me or are those my most favorite people? Y/N, you didn't tell me you were in town!” She beamed.

“Yuri?” Your eyes harmonized hers. “I was gonna surprise you but… wait, what're you doing here?”

“Me? I work here, babe. The real question is what are the two of you doing here, hmm?” Yuri gaped, leaning against the counter. Her arms crossed over it.

“He dragged me into this.” You said pointing your thumb at the man beside you, making him gasp dramatically, “nah nah, I see how it is.” He drawled, turning his head away from you.

“Drama queen.” You accused, punched him in his bicep. The two of you acted like you had known each other for years by now.

“Ooh, you two must be close.” Yuri cooed, tilting her head, her cheek squished up against her hand as she watched the two of you interact.

“We met yesterday,” you scoffed, turning down any further suggestions that she could blurt out.

“Is that supposed to make a difference?” Yuri sassed, wiping a glass mug down with a cloth that was under the counter.

“Yuri.” Your eyebrows knitted together making her smirk, “what? I'm being serious.” She smirked.

“If this is you being serious, I don't wanna know what you being unserious is like.” Yuri snickered, placing two mugs in front of the two of you. Her body twisted around pulling out one of the alcoholic drinks out of the shelf and shaking the bottle before pouring it into your glass. “So darling, how've you been, how's Camden treating you so far?” She asked, pushing the two mugs across the counter towards you too.

“It's been alright. I've been working on my parlor recently. Otherwise… nothing special. Oh, Spider-Punk also saved my brain from spewing out like three days ago so that's something,” You shrugged when you suddenly heard Hobie choke on his drink, his beer going down the wrong pipe making him cough harshly. You and Yuri raise an eyebrow in his direction.

“Bloody hell. Sorry, this- this drink is really strong,” He sputtered, clearing his throat. He wiped his lips with the back of his hand, tears stinging his eyes.

“Okay…” Your tone contained skepticism in it, “you good now?” You asked to which he nodded. “Fantastic.”

You nodded, turning back to Yuri. A silence washing over the three of you even with the blast of music and chitter chatter in the back.

Yuri opened her mouth to say something but quickly closed it when she heard the door squeak open. A brunette walked through, his face flushed as he stumbled towards the counter. “Hey!”

“Flash!” Yuri squeaked, her eyebrows knitting together. “You're not supposed to drink during your fucking shift!”

“Bloody hell. Chill, mom.” He rolled his eyes, voice awfully slurred leaning his hip against the counter but miserably failing after almost falling.

“Ay,” Hobie lifted his head in a greeting while you sat beside him thinned-lipped.

“Oh my god. Hobie, is that you my man?” Flash exclaimed, throwing his arms out in a hug but unable to reach him due to the counter that separated them so going for a high-wave instead that he missed by a head.

“The one and only,” Hobie snickered, grabbing Flash's wrist and guiding him through the high five properly.

Flash clicked his tongue, turning his head towards you, “Ooh, and who's this pretty little thing?” He smirked, grabbing your hand that laid atop the counter and pressing a kiss to your knuckles. You gave him a polite smile, retracting your hand. You opened your mouth to introduce yourself but Hobie beat you to it. “Y/N Y/L/N. We met yesterday.”

“What he said,” you dipped your chin in agreement.

“A pretty name for a prettier lady,” Flash winked at you when Yuri pushed him away with her whole hand pressed up against his face, “don't mind this idiot. He always gets like this when he's woozy.”

“‘m not woozy.” Flash grumbled, pushing her hand off his face and crossing his arms over his chest like a child who didn't get what they wanted.

“Sure you aren't.” Yuri rolled her eyes, wiping the black marble counter with gold veinings etched into them with a scruffy cloth tinted a light brown at hand (you assumed that it used to be white once.)

“Just a little bit, alright?” He grunted.

You tune in and out of the conversation thinking about what you could do back at the parlor, what you still need to do and improve, how you're going to start developing and promoting your work. Making a website could do me goods, never hurts to try. Maybe I should make a Facebook page— You jumped out of your twilight zone when a pair of fingers snapped right in front of your face.

“Welcome back to earth, love.” Hobie's voice was the first one you processed.

“Sorry, just got some things on my mind.” You ran a hand over your head till the nape of your neck, letting it settle there.

“I can see that,” Hobie took the empty glass of beer in your hand and replaced it with a refilled one. Your eyes lingered on his hands, watching them with precision before your eyes found their way back to your glass, staring at the foam floating at the top of the glass. You brought the glass up to your lips letting the liquid burn down your throat.

Hobies eyes lit up with amusement, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Calm down, love. The drink ain’ gonna run away from you.” He quipped, his fingers gently wrapping around your forearm pulling the drink down from your lips. Your body slightly tensed up as his warmth seeped into your skin and throughout your body, your eyes meeting his.

Hobie's amused smirk seemed to drop into a line when he noticed the change in the atmosphere. His eyes stuck on yours, yours on his.

The tension suddenly drowned out by the cackle of Yuri who was watching Flash flirt (and fail miserably) with some gals that sat a few seats away from the two of you. His hand quickly untangled itself from your arm finding its way back onto the counter. You let out a breath of relief thankful for brief distraction.

Flash trudged back to where the three of you were, his shoulders slumped with a small pout planted on his face after the girls left with scowls and disgust etched on their faces.

“No luck?” Yuri teased.

“Shut up.” Flash huffed, snapping his head away from her to which Yuri hummed smugly.

Hobie reassured Flash by giving him a small pat on his back whispering some words into his ear that seemed to lighten him up.

“Hey, up for some dare or drink?” Flash beamed suddenly, his movement more animated than before.

“What?” you tilt your head quizzically.

“Dare or drink, do the dare or chug a beer.” Flash summarized with a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders.

“Oh no, I should probably get back in a couple of minutes,” you interjected, waving your hands in the air dismissively.

Yuri frowned, “c'mon babe, my shift is almost over. It won't hurt you to have a little fun, y'know?”

“I really shouldn't-” You protested but quickly folded with Yuri's small pout the alcohol in your system. I'm so gonna regret this later.

—

“Chug, chug, chug!” The three chanted while your hazy eyes tried to focus on the mug of beer in front of you. This might've been your fifth drink of the night, but could you blame yourself? You were definitely NOT texting your fucking ex that you missed him (given by our dear Flash). Not in a million years, but it was more tempting than chugging another beer and inevitably using the next person near you as a vomit bucket.

“Fuck, 'm gonna vomit.” You slurred, putting the glass mug down on the marble counter. Somehow, even with four and a half beers in your system, you could kind of think properly.

Kind of.

“It's the beer or the dare, babe.” Yuri reminded, wiggling her finger.

“Mhm,” you pinched the bridge of your nose trying to rub the blur out of your eyesight. “I-I’m going to find the bathroom.” You shook your head, standing up clumsily. You swallowed the saliva that had built up in your mouth but it didn't help with your slurring at all.

You just whipped around and showed yourself the way towards the bathroom which you had no idea where the fuck it was simply disappearing into the crowd.

“That's not even the direction of the bathroom.” Yuri murmured, sighing defeatedly.

“So… who's going with her?” Flash raised an eyebrow, his eyes bouncing between Hobie and Yuri. The two stared back at him, making him raise his hands in the air defensively, “not it.”

It made both Hobie and Yuri roll their eyes. Yuri turned towards Hobie, opening her mouth to say something but Hobie interrupted her before she could.

“I'll go, ya both enjoy. If we don't return, we left, ‘ight?” Hobie gave them a curt nod and small goodbyes before he headed your way quickly just in case you were about to do something stupidly stupid and wouldn't be able to take it back.

Hobie strutted through the packed room, hands in pocket, eyes searching for a certain (h/c) headed individual. His height an advantage as he could see over the array of people. His nostrils taking in a whiff of the sweat and alcohol mixed in with the air, dancing bodies bumping against his.

Where did she go? He bit the inside of his cheek, eyes wandered over the room, skimming through the crowd but unable to spot you. You went in the complete wrong direction so you couldn't possibly have made it to the bathroom.

Should he call your name? Probably not, as tempting as it was, you weren't really a lost child.

He caught a glimpse of you – your back turned to him whilst you talked to two other girls. He doesn't remember introducing you to them. Maybe you knew them already? He pushed the thoughts aside, walking over towards you.

He tapped your shoulder, “Y/N-” only to freeze in his stance when he saw ‘you’ turn around.

“Huh?” The amber-eyed woman looked Hobie up and down, her eyes sparkling. “Sorry, can I help you?” She spoke softly, tucking a stray hair behind her ear.

“Sorry love, thought you were somebody else.” He explained noticing her smile slip a little.

“Oh.” She murmured melancholy, plastering a fake smile on her face. Hobie nodded and quickly left before she could say anything else.

Something – Someone – suddenly slammed into his side, his hands reaching down and grabbing their waist to steady them.

He looked down, finding your hazy eyes melding with his, “you good?”

“Just a little… light-headed.” You reassured, rubbing your eye with the heel of your palm unable to ignore the uneasiness in the back of your throat but you didn't see why he had to know that.

“You wanna get outta here?” Hobie suggested, watching you narrow your eyes at him before nodding and mumbling something he assumed was a yes.

He moved his hand up wrapping around your shoulder and leading you towards the elevator.

—

Ding.

The Elevator had reached the top, the metal doors sliding out revealing how the dark blue had taken over the sky, multiple glowing specks adorning the sky. What time was it? Where were you two going now? You wondered, your thoughts racing from one to another. At least they hadn't gone completely blank… yet.

Your body moved on its own — with the help of Hobie, of course. Otherwise you'd probably still be tossed around the crowd like a colorful toy among a group of children.

You'd rushed over dipped your head over a plant pot that busied the wall right next to the elevator when you reached it. Gagging and retching, expecting your half-digested lunch and almost 5 beers to make a quick reappearance but it never did.

“You feelin’ better?” The voice snapped you out of your musing.

“Nope,” you answered with a pop of the p. “I think… I think it's probably gotten worse actually.” Your answer was slow, trying to comprehend each syllable you spit out of your mouth.

“Eh, should've known better before dragging ya into a bar and making you chug beer.” He sighed, feeling you lean against him while he continued to steady your movement.

“Probably.”

“Definitely.”

“Did you enjoy at least?” Hobie asked, trying to make some good of the situation.

“Mhm.” You crooned, stumbling over your own foot but never making it to the floor. He twisted the door knob that probably would've broken down if the breeze of air was too fast. “So where do you live?”

“Eh… my apartment.” You answered.

He chuckled at your ominous answer, “and where would your ‘apartment’ be?”

Huh… your apartment? It was on street… Your thoughts went blank. Did you just forget where you fucking live? yes. Yes you did. But if you think hard enough– nope. nothing. Maybe you shouldn't have drank that much.

With how long you were silent for, Hobie realized the problem. “Ya forgot?”

“I forgot.”

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @the-kr8tor @missshelleyduvall @hobieszeze

Banner(s) by @/cafekitsune

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thecuriousquest · 2 days

Note

E2? Pervert Incel Yan!Megumi ?

FEMOID!

Pervert Incel Yan!Megumi Fushiguro x Fem!Reader

Prompt: “You’re better off without them anyway.”

Warnings: NSFW, heavy Yandere themes, non con, bondage, gagging, degradation, incel pervert, face slapping, Megumi loses his virginity, porn references, facial

Master List

Yandere Alphabet Prompt List

Requests are temporarily closed. Thanks for understanding.

@murderofravens I’m not sure if you like Yan!Megumi content, so I just thought I’d tag you in it anyway.

—————————————————————————

Megumi drags you into the bedroom, your feet kicking, your nails clawing at his arms. Your body twisting and thrashing as he throws you down on the bed and pins you there. He crawls over you, heavy on your chest.

You’re able to let loose one sharp scream before he’s slapping you across the face.

“Why are you pretending to be a victim? Poor baby. Can get all the dick she wants but closes her legs when a decent guy is interested in her.”

“A decent guy wouldn’t do this! Megumi, please!”

“Like you’d know anything about it. I know your type. You’re only after guys who treat you like trash while guys like me come in last. You’re a fucking pathetic whore, holding out on me just because you think you’re better. Is that it? You really think a little skank like you is better than the rest of us?”

He rips your shirt open, the buttons of your blouse going everywhere in different directions. He looks at your rack and smiles devilishly. You try to cover up, use your hands to block his view of your padded bra.

He doesn’t like that. Megumi holds your wrists down against the bed on either side of your hips. He leans in close, smelling the dot of perfume you usually put on your sternum. It’s faint, like a delicate flower, barely there, but he can still make it out.

Your squirming becomes too much for him to deal with. He slaps you again, making you so dizzy and compliant as he stands up to go get something. All you can do is groan and lay there as you try to get your bearings.

Megumi returns and grabs your limbs, and you come alive again when you feel something scratchy wrapping around your wrists.

“No! No, Megumi! Stop it! No! I don’t want this! I don’t want you!”

“Shut up!” He shouts at you. “I can’t believe anything that comes out of that lying, bitchy mouth.”

He tears off a piece of duct tape and shuts you up with it.

Megumi strips off his clothes. If you weren’t so terrified, you’d probably take the time to appreciate his athletic build. He’s just…oh fuck…hes palming himself, growing harder and harder as he looks at you all tied up for his own use.

He runs his hand up your inner thigh, hooking two fingers in your panties and pulling them down slowly. All the way off, he takes them in his hand and fists your cotton underwear against his cock right in front of you. He pumps himself until he has a full erection. It curves upwards slightly, long in length. His thick tip leaks with pre as he crawls over you once more.

Your skirt, bra, shoes, and socks are the next to go. Finally, he sees you, all of you in the state you were meant to be in: naked just for him.

Finally, he gets the girl.

He can see the tears in your eyes as you whimper and make incomprehensible noises behind the duct tape over your lips. He can’t help but smirk at your pathetic state.

“All you bitches are the same,” he whispers into your ear as he thrusts into you, pushing your knees up to your shoulders just like he’s seen so many pornstars do.

Taking your tight pussy might be the best thing Megumi has ever done for himself. He doesn’t know why he didn’t do this sooner. With the way you look at the other boys around campus, you fucking deserve it.

You throw your head back uncontrollably, thrusting your hips up without giving your body consent to do so. You don’t want this. Why, WHY, is your body reacting like you do?

This isn’t right! It isn’t normal. How his cock is hitting your sweet spot of pure pleasure, how he’s bumping your cervix with every heated thrust.

Megumi overstimulates you, biting down hard on your shoulder and pulling your hair back as he keeps himself up with one arm. The wild groans coming from his throat while beating your pussy senseless make you cry tears of terror and shame.

You don’t mean to do it. It just happens. He finally runs your g-spot so ragged that you can’t do anything but come. You’re a messy, twitchy little thing as Megumi splits you in half.

“You fuckmeats treat us like we’re less than you, less than human when we’re the superior ones. We’re your protectors. The least you can do is put yourself to good use and spread your legs,” Fushiguro taunts you, relishing in how weepy and scared you are.

Seeing your tears roll over the duct tape like that really drives him wild. He pulls out, fisting his cock until he’s spilling his seed all over you, giving you a nice and creamy facial.

When Megumi finishes, he’s panting heavily, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. You shake as you look at the back of his wild, dark hair.

“I hope you understand this means we’re together now.”

His words catch you off guard. You don’t want to be together with Megumi, but what can you do right now? You can’t even speak!

“You’re better off without them anyway.”

#yandere #triggering content #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere x y/n #triggering themes #yandere x darling #yandere themes #jujutsu kaisen #yandere jujutsu kaisen #yandere megumi fushiguro #yandere megumi x reader #yandere megumi #jjk megumi #megumi fushiguro #jujutsu kaisen megumi

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hawkinsquarry · 7 hours

Text

all things must pass (steve x reader)

summary: steve makes you leave him at the end of the world.

contains: steve x reader; gender unspecified reader; no pronouns used for reader; post-st4; unresolved angst; probably too much swearing :/

i miss this guy and i’m feeling insane over him so have some angst with an ambiguous ending 🫶🏻

Steve’s feet feel particularly heavy when we steps across your foyer. And the packet he has in his hands feels even heavier. He brushes off a few specs of ashes before slamming them down on the table in front of you, lazily eating cereal.

“What the hell is this?” you ask after a moment, grabbing the ledger on top. You know immediately it’s an airline ticket. It makes you feel sick and you push your Cheerios away as your eyes scan the details.

FROM-TO

IND > LA

You want to fucking kill him but you don’t have a chance as he breezes past, grabbing your suitcase out of your walk in closet.

“You depart in twelve hours,” he starts. He recited it in his head the entire way over to make the conversation easier, but the words are hard to get out. “Only take your essentials. When you’re there, a chauffeur will pick you up and take you to the - the - the location.”

“Steve, I’m not fucking going -“

“Yes, you are.” He says sternly. Like you’re a child.

“I’m not going anywhere without you!”

And he know this was coming - this cyclical argument you’ve been having for the last three weeks, your tears, the lump in his throat, uncertainly fogging both of your vision. But it doesn’t make it any easier, any less frustrating.

He says your name low and quiet. A plea. “This is safe. This is where the - the - the people I know told me to send you. That it’s the safest place.”

“And we’re trusting those people now?”

“No. W-well, yes! It - it’s - just - trust me, not them. Okay?” He settles your suitcase on the couch and starts moving around your living room for things he knows you’ll need. A blanket. Medicine. “Anywhere away from here is better, anyway.”

“So you admit it isn’t safe?”

Steve sniffles. “I never said it was.”

You follow him to your bedroom where he begins ripping clothes from your closet. He doesn’t miss the hoodie he leant you a few months ago. It’s laid on top of your suitcase with more shirts and pants.

You grab his arm and try to force it to fall back to his side, but he’s too strong, god damn him. “Steve, quit!” you beg, digging your heels into the ground and tugging on him. “I’m not leaving, Steve. I’m not going unless you go with me.”

“We talked about this.”

As nauseam, in fact. Until the ache in Steve’s throat was excruciating. Until your voice was hoarse and you were heaving. He’s not leaving, and you are.

You tug on him again. “I’ll keep talking about it until you listen to me!”

He doesn’t say anything. Just keeps moving back and forth between your closet and the suitcase. You cry, as hard as you try not to. You really are like a petulant child, stomping your foot, throwing a tantrum. You feel like it’s the only way he’ll listen, but you know the reality is that he still won’t.

“What about me?” you cry. You’re so angry at him, want to say something that’ll make him hurt. That’ll change the expression on his stoic face. You find it in you to refrain. “What about us, Steve?”

Keeps packing. Head down. Jaw clenched tight. He was ready for this fight when he walked in.

“Steve, let the goddamn military handle it. Do - do you honestly think you’re going to save the world?”

“No,” he snaps.

“Then what?”

He doesn’t answer because you already know why. Because he can’t leave Dustin, and Dustin can’t leave El, because apparently she can save the world. And Robin won’t leave Steve who won’t leave Dustin who won’t leave El. And Nancy fucking Wheeler won’t leave Mike who won’t leave El.

It makes you feel insane. Your blood boils and spills over, and over, and over, and it never just depletes. You keep going, keep arguing, trying to talk him out of it until your voice is hoarse. It’s hoarse now, in fact. Last night Steve held you until you shut up, until you cried yourself to sleep, and you had no idea he had already got you a plane ticket out of here. You feel so betrayed it makes your stomach twist and chest ache.

“I can’t live without you,” you try. It’s the third time you’ve pulled this and it seems to get him the most. “Steve, I don’t know what I’d do if - if….”

Steve bites his cheek, stilling, his hands clutching one of your sweaters.

“Why don’t you care?” you push.

He sniffles again, pinches his nose. You’d prefer it if he’d just let himself cry. He’d give in, then, if he let his emotions take over.

“Don’t you love me?”

“Jesus, yes,” he grits, finally looking at you. His eyes are red. “Why do you think I’m makin’ you leave, huh? Why do you think I’m staying?”

“Because you think you’re something you’re not!”

He runs a big hand through his hair so harshly you fear it’ll get tugged out. He walks towards you, holding his arms out, murmuring, “honey,” and as much as it pains you, you back away.

“Don’t,” you say sharply. Your throat aches. “Don’t do that, Steve.”

“I love you.” He sounds exhausted. “I love you, please believe me.”

“If you love me, then come with me.”

“There won’t be a world for us to live in unless we stop this.”

“You aren’t going to save the world.” You’re so desperate for him to listen to you. “The chances are so slim, Steve. Why can’t we love each other while we have time?”

Steve takes a shaky breath. “I won’t let you die without doing something about it first.”

You stare at each other. It’s suddenly dawning on you that nothing you’ll do will ever change his mind. That his chances of living through the next few days are slim. That this is the last time you’ll get to see him. While he’s packing for you and forcing you to take a plane to California.

There’s nothing romantic about it. It’s not like what you’ve seen in the movies you rented from Family Video when Steve had a shift. Before he was yours. When you went because the forest green vest looked so good on him, and he always had some goofy recommendation, and he let his hands touch yours when giving you your change for a moment too long.

You’ve hardly even had him.

“So that’s it?” You can hardly hear yourself.

“I’m doing this for you. I’m doing everything for you. And - and i-if it works, I swear I’ll make it up to you. I swear, angel.”

You shake your head, hot tears making their way down your jaw. “No.”

He stills. Looks a little like a deer in headlights. Caught off guard, shocked. Mouth parting slightly before closing again, like he wants to argue but can’t.

What is there to say?

“If you make me get on that plane, Steve….” You shake your head again, swallowing the ache in your throat down.

You stare at each other again. His eyes are one of your favorite things about him. Those saccharine, chestnut and moss colored irises. They scrunch up when he laughs. You used to think about leaving Hawkins and moving somewhere nice, so far away from all of this that Steve grows up to have crows feet around his eyes. That you’d be the one who put them there. And this is the last time you’ll see them.

“You have to go,” he eventually sniffles.

“Please,” you try, for the final time.

He blinks slowly, frowning, chest rising and falling slowly. “I love you,” he whispers. “Please believe me.”

You’re not sure if you can.

#steve harrington x reader #han posts #steve x reader

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