#and like it proper feels real like I can’t explain it

[iman-92]

i had a dream about my dad this morning and it reminded me about how i used to dream about my sister all the time and idk how people find it comforting bc it’s accs ruined my whole day.

my dreams are never really fantastical or dramatic either, i imagine them in really normal settings like i just walk into the living room and they’re there. and on some level i’m like weirdly lucid bc i find myself really happy/in disbelief that i’m talking to them. like a part of me is aware that they passed away and it doesn’t make sense for me to be interacting with them but bc my dreams seem so real i start thinking that maybe i didn’t lose them and I get my hopes up?? then as the dream progresses they say or do things that make me more and more aware that none of this is real and then when i wake up it’s like i’m reliving the loss all over again. :/

#and like it proper feels real like I can’t explain it #it’s like I really saw them #and like the stuff they say in my dreams just makes me so sad I can never bounce back after I dream about a loved one #honestly speaking I think it’s because my instinct is to be in denial and my subconscious won’t let me lol

[merakiui]

the birds and the bees.

yandere!riddle rosehearts x (female) reader cw: yandere, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, nsfw, slight dub-con, implied stalking, age gap (riddle is 19 and reader is 29) note - you're hired to teach riddle about the birds and the bees. you need the money. he needs to get laid.

The Rosehearts’s Residence looks about how you expected it to after driving past houses of similar size and grandeur. Unlike you, they’re definitely not strapped for cash. It’s an impressive structure with its elegant wrought iron gates and expertly trimmed hedges. You’re immediately overcome with bitter jealousy when you step through the entrance, passing rose bushes in full bloom. If only your apartment could look and feel as nice as this place. You almost wonder if you should keep Mrs. Rosehearts’s contact in case she ever needs a gardener or a window washer…

But then that risks your cover, and the last thing you want is to get tangled up in trouble with the upper middle class.

Gathering your courage, you smooth invisible wrinkles in your pencil skirt, steady your balance in your Mary Janes—both at socially acceptable lengths and heights—and bring your fist down against the door. Seconds after the third knock, it opens to reveal a woman who looks as prim and proper as the landscape of her home. She takes a long moment, drinking in your formal features, and then smiles approvingly.

“Ah, (Name), you’re early.”

You soften your face into something polite and demure. “Better early than late.”

“I couldn’t agree more.”

She steps aside, gesturing for you to come in. You meander into the foyer and are instantly reminded of those exquisite house tours on MagiTube. There’s a fine layer of modest Victorian wealth to the decor. Flowery wallpaper, a lofty ceiling, an aureate chandelier, a vase filled with fresh tulips of all colors… Oh, how you wish you could live here!

“Your home is beautiful,” you comment as you straighten your bow headband.

“Why, thank you.” Her eyes light up once more. “I’ve always admired this neighborhood. Everything is so well-kept. Speaking of which, where did you say you’re from?”

“Oh, I’m actually getting ready to move back to school at the end of the summer,” you explain, narrowly dodging her question. No way I’m telling her I live in a not-so-affluent neighborhood… She’ll totally kick me out. “I’m staying with my parents in the meantime and working a few jobs to support myself.”

“And what was it you’re studying again?”

You paste a hollow smile on, sensing her distrust. I already told you this when we met at the clinic. Do I really seem so suspicious?

“I’m studying to be an ob-gyn.”

“A wonderful profession,” she praises, nodding to herself. “Very wonderful indeed. And how old are you? I merely ask to confirm. There are so many miscreants nowadays. You can never be too sure.”

“I understand completely, Mrs. Rosehearts. I’m—” you almost falter, your real age on the tip of your tongue— “twenty-two. What about your son? You told me he’s also looking to get into the medical field?”

“Not looking. He will pursue medicine,” she corrects sternly. “Just like his mother.”

You swallow your disgust and try not to let it show so openly. Yikes… Talk about controlling.

Mrs. Rosehearts waves you onwards down the hall. “My Riddle will be leaving for his first year of college at the end of August. Though I’m certain he’s more than prepared, it never hurts to review.”

“Absolutely. So you’d like me to give him the talk?”

“Not just that. I’d like you to teach him well enough so that copulation and any other libidinous ideas are the last things on his mind. Stamp them out if you must. He’s to focus on his studies and make good decisions just as I raised him.”

Shouldn’t he already be familiar with this? Besides, he’s not a kid. Of course he’s going to think about sex. Most of us do when we’re horny.

But you can’t say that outright, so you settle for something vastly different.

“It’s important to stay on the right path and be responsible.”

Mrs. Rosehearts nods her agreement. Your stomach twists in discomfort.

On second thought, I don’t want to be upper middle class if these are the people I have to deal with. Is this guy going to have any chance to be social? To live his life? To make and learn from stupid mistakes? I bet he can’t wait to get out of here and go off to school.

“I apologize if this is rude in any way, but I just want to ensure I’ll be paid accordingly.”

“Of course. Good work must always be recognized and rewarded.” She stops at a door. “I cannot thank you enough for lending my Riddle your time. Teach him well.”

“I’ll do just that. You can count on it.”

Pleased with the level of maturity you’ve displayed, she raps her knuckles against the door and calls out, “Riddle, the tutor’s here.”

“Very well, Mother. I’ve just finished today’s readings, so you can send them in,” comes a muffled reply.

Today’s readings? you think, perplexed. Your gaze slides from the door to Mrs. Rosehearts. Does she have this guy doing summer school? That must suck! What a shitty way to spend your summer, cooped up inside filling out workbooks and stuff.

“I’ll be out running errands in the meantime. I trust you’ll be all right by yourself?”

“Perfectly all right,” you assure her, to which she hums and strides past you. You catch her perfume as she departs, and it reminds you of the types of scents worn by saggy, old ladies who have nothing better to do than sit around and complain about the state of the world and the way their children turned out.

In other words, a scent you associate with misery.

You wait until she’s out of sight before opening the door and stepping inside the study. There’s a mahogany desk in the center, and thick textbooks are piled high on either side. Beyond that, beside a big bay window with cream-colored curtains drawn to let in the sun, two large bookcases are packed with an array of tomes. At the front of the room, a blackboard has been built into a wooden frame. Chalk lines the ledge, situated within reach of an eraser. And sitting at the desk, his eyes glued to an open book, is a young man. A pair of round frames sit on the bridge of his nose, slipping ever so slightly down the slope of it when he peers at the page. He pushes them up when he finally lifts his head to greet you.

“Hey.” You wave awkwardly, easing the door shut.

He seems taken aback by your appearance. “Oh, yes. Right. Hello…”

Silence soon fills the space. You wonder if you should just save yourself this nonsensical waste of time and retreat.

“Sooo.” You fold your arms behind your back, rocking on your heels. “Your mother’s probably told you why I’m here.”

“I’m aware.” He shuts his book and stands from his seat. “My name is Riddle Rosehearts. A pleasure to meet you.”

You blink at his outstretched arm. “(Name). Likewise.” You grab his hand and shake firmly. 

So stiff…

“So where’re we starting? The basics? You want the whole ‘when a man and a woman love each other very much’ version or—”

Riddle scoffs and yanks his arm back. “I’m not a fool. I’ll have you know I’m well aware of sexual reproduction and what it entails.”

“You can call it sex. No one’s forcing you to be all biological,” you tease. His body goes rigid, and his face reddens in what you assume is flustered annoyance. “Anyways, since you’re not as brainless as Mother Dearest wants me to assume, I’ll just get into it.”

Riddle stares at you, his arms folding over his chest. He looks like he wants to argue, but instead he huffs and lowers into his chair.

Wordlessly, you undo the buttons on your blazer and shrug out of it. Your blouse goes next, untucked from your skirt and shucked. Riddle’s eyes are so wide they nearly pop out of his skull when he spies the white, lacy false collar that just barely covers your breasts. You’re about to step out of your pencil skirt next when Riddle clears his throat.

“W-What’re you doing?”

“Isn’t it obvious?”

“No?”

“I’m teaching you the birds and the bees.”

“N-Not in that outfit! S-Surely not…” He averts his eyes, crimson crawling up to his ears. “You’re practically nude!”

“That’s the point of lingerie, silly.” Your skirt pools around your ankles to reveal the rest of your frilly ensemble. A black-and-white cupless bra and crotchless panties set, both with plenty of ruffles, held together with a pair of garters. Still wearing matching stockings and your precious Mary Janes, you bend down to gather your discarded clothes. They’re set aside on a nearby chair. “You can look.”

“A-Absolutely not!” he hisses, squeezing his eyes shut. “Y-You… You’re not decent. It’s rude to stare.”

“Come on. You got past anatomy diagrams just fine.”

Riddle opens and closes his mouth, speechless like a beached fish. Eventually, he manages to gather his coherency. “You’re a tutor, aren’t you? Where’s your dignity?”

“Nonexistent. I lied.” His head snaps over to view you, and he seems so scandalized by your admission that it’s almost comedic. “No way I’m studying to be an ob-gyn. I’m not even in school.”

“What?! But you—”

“It’s fine. I looked the part, didn’t I?” you joke, waving your hand about dismissively. “C’mon, mama’s boy. You’re going off to college. It’s nothing like those stuffy anatomy courses.”

Riddle tries and fails to look at anywhere that isn’t you, his eyes lingering on your chest to the space between your legs to the thigh garter and then to the ceiling. He’s so red you think he might explode.

“You’ve been with a girl before, yeah?”

With lips pursed in a tight line, he shakes his head.

“Sounds about right.”

“And you’re so experienced?”

You flash him a cheeky grin. “Don’t worry about it, mama’s boy.”

“I’m not a mama’s boy!”

“No? So you just let your mother treat you like a little baby at your grown age? You let her pick out sex tutors for you?”

“I—” He stops himself from speaking to mull over your questions. “If it’s what she deems necessary…”

“Because our biggest fear is sexually awkward you knocking up some girl at school, right?”

“I… I would never! Safe sex is—”

“Very important when you’re not trying to conceive. Good boy. See? You know your stuff.”

Riddle’s eyes narrow into vicious slits. You brush his scorching vitriol off and turn towards the board. Procuring a piece of chalk, you scrawl words on it: Birds and Bees 101. Wholly unamused, Riddle folds his arms across his chest.

“Your mother told me you’re gonna study medicine, so you’re probably familiar with everything already. And I’m sure you know all about the baby-making process on a biological level.” You whirl to face him, your tits bouncing with the peppy motion. Riddle swallows thickly. “But just to make sure… Let’s review.”

“R-Review? You don’t mean—”

“What’s this?” Your hands close around your tits. Riddle’s enchanted with the way you squeeze them—the way they depress under your fingers.

“Um… Ahem. Well… T-The breasts. They’re a type of glandular organ located on a woman’s chest, and they’re made up of lots of tissue and fat. There’s the mammary gland—that’s what produces milk. Oh, and then there are the areolas right around the nipples. Those are—”

“You can call them what they are.”

Riddle blinks, shaken from his studious spiel. “W-What?”

“You know the word, mama’s boy.”

He flusters. “Yes, I’m aware. But…”

“No harm in saying it.” You run your fingers over your nipples and giggle sweetly like a schoolgirl. “Go on…”

He inhales a deep breath. “They’re tits,” he mumbles, desultory. “Y-Your tits.”

You clap, beaming brightly. “Well done! Moving swiftly on…” You run your hands down the expanse of your stomach, stopping just beneath your navel. “What’s here?”

“Your womb. O-Otherwise known as the uterus. It’s where a baby grows over the course of nine months.”

“Mhm. Good job.”

He pushes his glasses up his nose, clearing his throat. “There’s more to your reproductive system than the uterus. Lots of parts. Important parts.”

“Right. But I don’t need to quiz you on it. You obviously know your stuff.”

Again, your fingers inch lower until they’re prodding at your folds. Riddle’s breath audibly hitches.

“And this?”

“Your vagina. It’s where—”

“What’s the other word?”

Riddle avoids your stare. “It sounds so vulgar…”

“So what?”

“S-So there ought to be a term that’s more…flattering.”

“Like what?” You approach him and, with the grace of a swan, lift your leg onto the desk to give him a better view of yourself. Shamelessly, you dip your fingers inside to spread yourself. “A guy called it the honeypot once. That pretty enough for you?”

Riddle squeaks and flinches back in his chair, his face now even redder than it was before. “T-That’s fine…”

“Really? I’d have thought the implication in that one is much dirtier than calling it a pussy.”

It takes him a moment to connect the dots, but once he does he gasps. “Ah. Then…”

You press inwards with your fingers, exaggerating a pornographic sigh. “Yeah?”

“Can I… M-May I call it your flower?”

“Sure.” His shoulders slacken with a flicker of relief. Your next words shatter that and his pride in one fell swoop. “That one’s not as special as you think, mama’s boy. I’ve heard it all—every type of flower you can think of.”

“Even a rose?”

“Especially a rose.” His lips twist into a disappointed moue. You chuckle and add, “You can call it a rose if you want. I don’t mind.”

Riddle meets your eyes then, searching them for the joke. When one doesn’t present itself, he relaxes. “All right. It’s a very pretty rose. Soft…”

“Aww. Thanks for saying so. It’s softer inside, y’know. See?” Spreading yourself wider, you angle your hips to bless him with the full view. “My fingers slide right in. Wanna guess why?”

“B-Because the vagina naturally—” He stops himself, his brows knitting together in contemplation. When he speaks next, it’s with a determined sort of conviction. “When you’re aroused, your rose produces a natural lubricant during sexual excitement.”

“Mhm. We call that ‘feeling good and getting wet,’ Dr. Rosehearts.”

“Yes. Y-Yes, I know that.” He eyes your pussy, a ravenous glimmer in his intelligent blue-greys. “And the wetness—it’s supposed to make it feel better. To make insertion easier, I mean.”

“Right again.” You ease your fingers out but not before thrusting them deeper just so he can hear the sinful sounds. They shimmer with your essence, enticing in a forbidden way. “What about the other parts? How about this spot here?” You brush against the hood of your clit, circling it slowly.

Riddle watches, hopelessly spellbound. “The clitoris.”

“I’m impressed. Most guys don’t know about it.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“But it’s your most sensitive erogenous zone! Just how uninformed does one have to be to neglect such a crucial part to your sexual anatomy?”

“Woefully uninformed, I’m afraid,” you mutter with a pout. Your fingertips drag your hood up to reveal that pretty, perky nub. “I think it’s dumb your mother wants me to talk you out of sex. You’re going to college. You’re an adult. You’re free to do whatever you want.”

“I…” Riddle frowns at that last line. “I have no interest in it. Besides, it’ll only hinder my studies. If I really need it, I’ll just masturbate. That’s healthy every now and then, and it doesn’t break any rules.”

“Really? No interest at all?” You shoot him a knowing look and run your tongue along your bottom lip. “Because your dick’s telling a different story.”

Riddle sputters, embarrassed, and squeezes his thighs together. His hands fly to cover his lap. “That’s because you’re—” He gazes at the floor. “Because you’re so pretty…”

Temporarily thrown off course, you gape at him. “What?”

“You’re beautiful.”

Gathering the remnants of your mask, you piece it together and laugh. “Not the first time I’ve heard someone describe it like that.”

“Not just your pussy.” Your gaze snaps to his. He smiles, impish. “I’m sure you know what I mean, Teacher.”

You exhale a short laugh. “Someone’s suddenly confident.”

Riddle rises from his seat. His fingers close around your wrist, gently pulling it away from your clit. He moves around the desk to stand in front of you and then, before you can comprehend his intentions, he’s pushing you down onto the desk. You yelp at the sudden change in position, your eyes blown wide when he presses his clothed hard-on against your bare pussy.

“You’re doing a poor job at dissuading me from wanting sex.”

“I wasn’t trying to.”

“Not in that outfit.” He grabs at the meat of your thighs and parts them. “If Mother knew you lied to her…”

You shake your head at him. “Please don’t tell her. I… I’m being serious. I need this money.”

“Desperately?”

Your lip curls into the beginning of a sneer. You hate feeling powerless more than anything, but the fiery glaze in his eyes is just as troubling. “I’m not going to beg.”

“I haven’t asked for that yet.”

You roll your eyes. “Not funny. I agreed to teach you about sex. We’re not actually doing it.”

“A shame.”

“You’ll find a nice girl at school. Don’t lose hope, mama’s boy. Lots of girls like the smart types who’ll give ’em a lecture on biology and stuff.”

“I think you misunderstand. I don’t want other girls.”

“Okay?”

“My mother’s paying for a tutor and I desire you, so unless you want to leave here as a lying cheat…” He hums, seeming awfully haughty to hold the only thing that tethers you to him above your head. “You need the money, right?”

“Yes. Sure, of course I do. But—” You shift on the desk, silently horrified when he rocks against you. “We can’t. Your mother—”

“Weren’t you the one saying I should live my life? That I have the freedom to do as I please?”

“That doesn’t mean—come on; listen to yourself. You can’t honestly think I’d fuck you.”

“No? And yet you came wearing this outfit, parading around the study with your pussy and tits out.” He glances past you at the window. “And you didn’t even bother to close the curtains… How brazen.”

Your attempt to jerk away from him is made in vain. He pins you down onto the desk, one hand squeezing your breast, while the other works to fish himself from his trousers. Now hard and leaking, his cock rests against your stomach. It’s not a terrible size. If anything, it’s perfect. Just right for your tastes.

“W-Wait! It’s not safe. You can’t—” You inhale sharply, bucking up towards his hand when he presses his thumb against your clit. Biting your lip, you fix him with a glower. “If you pay me… If you promise not to tell your mother—”

Riddle leans in close. “No one needs to know. No one but us.”

Your eyes flit about the room. With a withering sigh, you submit to his touch. “You’d better pull out in time.”

Riddle rolls his hips once and his cock drags along your folds. You hiss through your teeth at this new friction, a sinful delight more dizzying than any type of alcohol consumed in excess. “Do you want to be a mother?”

“What I want has nothing to do with you. I’m just—ooh—t-trying to survive. You wouldn’t know what that’s like, so don’t poke fun.”

Riddle hums, kneading your breast and rubbing you to the edge all at once. It’s so very obviously his first time, his zealous nature trumping any sort of experienced technique. It still does the trick, though, sending little bolts of pleasure up your spine.

“My mother wouldn’t just choose anyone. Her standards are very high.” His eyes flick to your face, drinking in your expression as it shifts with restrained bliss. “Somehow you’ve earned her approval.”

“Lying’ll do that.”

“Maybe.” His fingers replicate the motions you did earlier, though with a singular objective in mind. He’s so focused on succeeding in this endeavor that it makes him look so stiff. Under any other circumstances, you’d find it cute. “Mother always knows what’s best for me. Obviously you’ve met her criteria if she’s hired you.”

“Spoken like a true mama’s boy.” Seeing as this is now your unavoidable fate, you reach up to touch his shoulders. He jolts, his initial glare softening. You tamp down another giggle and massage up and along his arms. “Relax a little. Don’t rush so much.”

Or do. Let’s get this over with before your mother catches us.

Riddle traces two fingers along your labia. He’s quiet as he takes all of you in, and when he sinks three fingers into your gooey heat his breath catches in his throat. “Are you… D-Do you feel good?”

You reach for his unoccupied hand and guide it to your clit. Riddle understands the suggestion well enough, for he massages you slowly. Sucking in another breath, you nod at him.

“Not bad. You’re getting there.”

His neglected cock throbs at the praise, and so you wrap your fingers around it to give it the same amount of attention he’s currently giving you. Riddle grits his teeth at the contact.

“You can move your fingers. Don’t just focus on my clit.”

“Ah. Right. Of course,” he babbles dumbly, so swept up in everything that you are, so very eager to please.

You’re like a work of art pinned to his desk, a delicacy more forbidden than anything from the bakery. Sugary-sweet, adorned in skimpy ruche, you’re a temptation laid bare. Delicately, as if you might shatter, he curls his fingers to press up against your insides. Riddle watches you arch up towards him, your hand working his cock maddeningly slow and steady. It feels good—better than anything he could have ever imagined.

His eyes trail from your lips to your tits to your pussy stretched around his fingers. “Do you have any plans for this summer?”

The sudden question catches you off guard. You were expecting something related to sex, not whatever this new shred of curiosity is. Still, that doesn’t stop you from dragging him closer to the edge of ecstasy with every tug of your fist.

“Why?”

“I… I’d like to get to know you.”

“Me?”

“Of course. You’re more than a body to me.”

“How charming. I just—” You frown, unable to follow where he’s going with this. “Why?”

“Isn’t that obvious?” Even though he says it like it’s a fact, he looks shy. “I want to know you.”

“Uh… Yeah… Okay.”

“You don’t believe me?”

“Not that… It’s just hard to imagine you having any girl friends.”

Riddle rolls his eyes and grinds his thumb into your clit. You bite back a whine as his fingers pump in and out of you. “Is that space open or closed?”

“You know which one.”

“You could be the one to close it.”

You meet his eyes then. For a short minute, the two of you hold each other’s stare. And then, breaking free from his hypnotic hold, you squeeze his length gently. He shudders, his lashes fluttering against his cheeks.

“And what about you? You excited for your first year?”

“Mm, yeah,” he murmurs, rutting into your hand. His fingers spread you open, scissoring gently.

“Just make sure to take time for yourself. Have fun. Live.”

“What did you do?”

“What do you mean?”

“When you were at school—how’d you manage?”

“I never went.” He opens his mouth to interject, but you beat him to it. “Couldn’t afford it.”

“Oh…”

“It’s fine! I’ve got plenty of experience in other things. I don’t need school for that.”

Riddle doesn’t believe your feigned optimism for a second. “If you could’ve gone, what would you have studied?”

You release his cock from your hold and reach up to pull his glasses from his face. Gingerly, minding the fragile frames, you set them aside. You lift your index to your lips, effortlessly coy. “It’s a secret.”

Before he can protest, you tap the hand at your cunt next. Riddle’s fingers, wet and shiny, slide out with a slick squelch. “I think you can do it.”

“What?”

“Go to school and study what you want. I believe in you.”

A wooden laugh tumbles from your lips. “Thanks for the encouragement, mama’s boy.”

“I have a name, you know.”

You smile easily. “You want me to call you something else? How does ‘good boy’ sound?”

Even though he tries not to let it show, his cock betrays his reticence with a small twitch. He’s an open book. Not wanting to give you the satisfaction, he lines himself up instead. Your fingers slip down to spread yourself for him.

“S-Slowly…” you whisper, stumbling over your breath as the head of his cock presses inside. Shallow at first before more inches fill you.

Riddle heaves a shaky gasp, his eyes wide with amazement. “I… I’m inside you…”

“How’s it feel?” “Warm. Soft. Snug. R-Really good.” He bows his head and digs his fingers into your hips. You think he has a dozen more adjectives on the tip of his tongue, each one just as fluffy as the last. “D-Do you feel good? It doesn’t hurt?”

“I’m fine.” You wind your legs around his waist to pull him closer. Your hands come to rest upon his shoulders once more. “Move your hips.”

Riddle does just that. His pace is awkward and inexperienced, every motion unsteady and jerky, as he searches for the right rhythm. He falls into it surprisingly fast, and it isn’t long until he’s smoothly rutting into you. You grab at his shirt, your breath coming in reedy huffs.

“Good. You—haa—good. You’re doing good.” Praise pours from your lips like a waterfall, plentiful and refreshing. It invigorates him, fills him with a confidence that wasn’t there before.

The soft slap of skin on skin fills the room. You keep your voice in check, lest you lose yourself and alert Mrs. Rosehearts. Riddle seems to be doing the same, even though it’s obvious he’s struggling much more than you are. He worries his bottom lip between his teeth to suppress his groans.

“You can touch me,” you whisper, petting his cheek. He blinks at you, his face aflame with a bright blush.

Nervously, he reaches for you and then pauses. Contemplation passes over his features. “What feels better? I want you to—no. I will make sure you cum. I’ve studied it, actually. I know how long it takes.”

“Look at you, doing your research like a diligent student. You want extra credit?”

Riddle chuckles and pinches your clit between two fingers. The rest of your teasing tapers off into a lewd squeal. “What was that about extra credit?”

“You’re awfully bold for your first time.”

“I’m not clueless.” His hips press inwards, plastering you to the desk, and his cock brushes that special spot within—the spot that has you seeing stars, your every nerve tingling with pleasure. You choke around a delighted gasp. Riddle, feeling victorious,  places his hand against your stomach, as if searching to feel his cock thrust up inside you. “Will I see you again after this?”

“If your mother wants me to come back and give you another pointless lecture on celibacy and safe sex, sure.”

“No, not that. Outside of this.”

“Don’t you have friends you’d rather hang out with?”

“I…do.”

“So spend time with them.”

Riddle doesn’t dignify that with a retort. With the way his eyes gloss over, you wonder just how many of these friends are within physical distance. The conversation stalls out into silence.

“You’ll make lots of friends at school. So many you’ll probably forget all about me.”

Riddle yanks your hips to meet his, driving himself deeper into your pussy.

“A-And you’ll find a nice girl to love if you’re looking for that kinda thing.”

“I am,” he confesses, breathless. “I want to get married and—mmh—start a family one day… I want to study law—become a lawyer… Mother thinks medicine suits me, but I can’t agree. Law is fascinating. It’s a perfect fit for me. Far better than medicine.”

You drag your thumb over your mouth, wetting it with your lipgloss, and then press it to his lips. The indirect kiss sends a tidal wave of arousal over him, darkening the tips of his ears in striking vermillion. You offer him a gentle smile while he recovers from that devastating flirt.

“I’ll make sure to hire you as my lawyer if I ever get into legal trouble.”

“You’d better not!” He laughs and shakes his head in amused disbelief. “But if you do, I’ll be there for you. Always.”

“Thanks, Riddle.”

Maybe I judged him too harshly. He’s not so bad.

In that stuffy study, just as the late afternoon gives way to red-orange streaked across a purple-pink sky, Riddle fucks you against that desk in all manner of rhythms. It’s when he finally picks up speed that you realize he’s nearing his end. You mirror his enjoyment, strung along by titillating touches and whispered words drenched in sweetness. You’ve lost track of how many times you’ve reached rapture alongside him, your pussy now brimming with cum. There’s so much it leaks out of your slick hole when he draws away, only to burrow his cock deeper to stuff it back inside.

The room reeks of sweat and sex. You think, if not your disheveled appearance, the smell will definitely tell Mrs. Rosehearts all she needs to know.

“I love you,” Riddle murmurs, and you’re about to ask him what he means—maybe he’s caught up in the moment and doesn’t realize what he’s saying—but then he lifts your legs up to fold you into a mating press. Coherent thoughts are knocked out of your head when he spills over, filling you up for the nth time that day. You shiver beneath him, eyes rolled back into your skull and tongue lolling out. You feel so stupid, fucked submissive by some inexperienced, upper middle class mama’s boy. Which isn’t even an insult with real heat to it, but in your hazy mind it’s all you can think of to describe him.

He grinds against you in the aftermath, panting from the exhilaration and adrenaline. 

“We need to…open the window,” you mutter, your heart thumping wildly in your chest.

Riddle admires your fucked-out expression in his sex-drunk daze. He slides out just as he feels himself going flaccid. Cum drips onto the desk below. Briefly, you struggle to recall whether or not you took your birth control today.

Something to consider later. Definitely not right now when you’re still clinging to the vestiges of your orgasm.

— — —

Mrs. Rosehearts knocks on the door, opening it to find Riddle sitting at his desk, jotting notes and occasionally pushing his glasses up. You’re standing at the blackboard, writing a list of the consequences of unplanned pregnancies. The room smells pleasantly of roses.

“Pardon my intrusion.”

You gaze at her and smile, wearing the clothes you arrived in. Nothing’s amiss. It’s perfect—thankfully. “Welcome back, Mrs. Rosehearts. We’re just about finished here.”

“Is that right? I assume all went well?”

“Very well. Your son’s a fast learner. Extremely talented.”

“I would expect nothing less.” She withdraws an envelope and hands it to you. “Thank you again for explaining it in realistic terms. Of course I doubt that my Riddle will act senselessly while he’s away, but as his mother I’m prone to worrying. Boys his age are so easily influenced.”

“O-Of course! That’s a very valid concern.” You force a chuckle.

If only she knew.

“Your pay is in that envelope. Should I ever require your assistance again, I’ll be sure to call.”

“Right… Thank you.” You hold it close to your chest. “I’m happy to help.”

You follow her out the door. She pauses to address Riddle. “Do continue reviewing your notes. We’ll convene for dinner in thirty minutes.”

“Yes, Mother.”

Mrs. Rosehearts walks you to the gate. “I wish you luck in your studies. If I don’t see you again at the clinic, have a pleasant summer.”

“Thank you. You as well.” You smile, fidgeting slightly. A bead of sweat tracks a path down your leg from between cum-spattered thighs.

Finally! With this I can pay my rent and still have enough for a treat from the bakery.

It’s worth it, or so you continue to tell yourself.

— — —

From the window, Riddle watches you make the walk to your car. He lifts his phone to fit you in the camera and snaps a secret photo. He continues to watch you until you’ve driven off and turned the corner, disappearing from his sight.

A tiny smile tugs at his lips.

Within his phone, put under a password lock, a special photo album exists. It’s filled with pictures taken from your social media—all of them. Every. Single. One. He’s resourceful when he wants to be. He can play the parody of a tech genius when he sets his sights on something.

And you’re just perfect.

#yandere twst #yandere twst x reader #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #yandere riddle rosehearts #yandere riddle x reader #yandere riddle #yandere riddle rosehearts x reader #n/sfw #tw: age gap #tw: dubcon #tw: pregnancy mention

[marionthegeek]

Stede is in the Gravy Basket, Izzy is Alive

The season 2 finale of Our Flag Means Death is odd.  It hits weird. I think I know why. And this is going to sound bananas, but give me a chance to explain.  Maybe you’ll agree.

It has a huge tonal shift. It seems to speedrun Stede and Ed’s romance. It feels like we’ve missed out on something from the end of episode 7.  The fight scenes and pirate plans are nonsensical, even for OFMD. And most egregiously, a prominent character is killed off in a way that feels disingenuous to his story arc, just for starters.

But I’m getting ahead of myself.  We need to go back to the beginning of season 2.  The season opens with Stede looking more piratey than ever. Beard, sash, earring… oh he’s his own fantasy of a real proper pirate.  He’s clashing swords with Izzy Hands and demanding to know where Ed is. He’s dreaming. In the dream he kills Izzy. He and Ed run into each other’s arms while screaming each other’s names. They crash into the surf. Ed says “I knew you’d find me, Babe.  I knew you’d find me, Love.” Stede keeps asking if they’re good. Ed dodges the question. Then Ed asked about the smell. Stede wakes up in a crowded room with farting and shushing roommates.

At first I thought the finale was supposed to be just a “satisfying” mirror to Stede’s dream. Stede and Ed call each other’s names and run into each other’s arms in a display that resembles a more grown up version of Stede’s dream fantasy. There’s some wild sword fighting not unlike Stede’s dream duel with Izzy. And Izzy dies.

It does mirror, but I didn’t find it satisfying. All of the characters except Stede feel flattened. Stede gets to make the heroic plan (that we never even hear) while there’s at least five pirates with better skill sets for it in the room. Ed, as Blackbeard, was described last season as “History’s greatest tactician”; Zheng Yi Sao conquered China; Jackie just took out a room full of British soldiers. Izzy and Auntie are right there. You could make arguments that Jim or Frenchie, or pretty much anyone could make a better plan. Then Stede says “It’s only suicide if we die,” which is horrible considering the plan gets Izzy killed.

Stede’s really the only person in that room who thinks Stede should be making the plans.  So I got to thinking, what if it's not just mirroring the dream? What if it is a dream? Last shot of episode 7 is an incoming cannonball. Maybe he’s unconscious.

Huge shout out to @Arty_Sunflowers on twitter (I’m not calling it X, fuck Musk) for pointing out that that isn’t the only episode that ends with a cannonball. Episode 2 ends with Jim swinging a cannonball down at Ed’s head.  Stede’s not just dreaming, he’s in the Gravy Basket!!!! (Stede even screams “Oh my God!” at the end of episode 7 in the same tone he screams “Oh my God, I don’t want to die.” in s1e9.

Stede’s hopes, dreams, and insecurities shape everything in the finale. And it helps explain the absurdities in the episode when you remember that Stede is living out pulp adventure and romance novels in his head. (He even looks like someone on the cover of one in his episode 1 dream.) But Stede can’t be dead, you say. He’s literally the main character. Well, Ed was dead for a whole episode. Let’s take a closer look.

I could and probably will do another essay on Lucius as a POV character and Ed’s mental health and how the threads they seemed to have dropped aren’t as dropped as they appear. But all of that hinges on me proving the Stede is in the Gravy Basket theory. So for this essay I’m focusing on that.

So for starters we’ve got the cannonball scenes. They’re eerily similar even if the method of cannonball propulsion is different. We don’t know Ed is dead and in the Gravy Basket for about half of episode 3. Neither does he. It makes logical sense you can be there without realizing it for a while. Buttons even said Ed didn’t know whether he was in the Gravy Basket or not in episode 4. It definitely messes with your reality.

One of Ed’s issues is self hate. He manifests Hornigold as his companion. Stede is desperate to be a good pirate and have people be proud of him. And he lives in his fantasies a lot.  So his dream shapes his experience. There’s a whole bit about Zheng needing “soft” and Auntie saying she’s proud of her. That isn’t their issue. It’s discordant with the show previously. But it is Stede’s issue. He’s manifesting.

When we first see Stede and Zheng in episode 8, they’re in a familiar spot for Stede, the bridge from episode 1. But why are they alone? When we last see Stede and Zheng in episode 7, several characters are within 5 to 10 feet of them. Did none of them decide to escape with Stede? Izzy, Lucius,  and Jim are closest. But we know Pete was there begging Stede to stay down during his fight with Zheng. Archie was definitely in the bar. That's why Jim entered the fight. So why is it only Stede and Zheng at the bridge? Because, going back to rescue others fits into Stede's hero fantasies. 

Zheng and Stede also argue about who pulled who to safety and how they got there. Stede waxes poetic about being a failure his whole life, but things always seem to work out for him. He’s such a main character mediocre white guy in this scene. He saves Zheng from two random soldiers, then she has to save him from them. Then they fight a bunch more soldiers on the beach until Blackbeard manifests in full leather from the ocean.  It looks cool. But it's absurd, even for OFMD.

Speaking of Ed, he begins the episode waxing poetic about nature and calling fishermen simple.  Those things are more Stede than Ed. Pop pop tells Ed, “You have no skills” which is something Izzy said to Stede in episode 5.  He also tells Ed, “If you were ever good at something, go do that, you bum.” If Stede’s insecurities could be distilled into one sentence, it would probably be that. (He also talks about being like a wave. I’m not 100% sure it's a The Good Place joke, but it would be thematically appropriate.)

Pop pop also tells Ed he “ruined dinner.”  Back in season 1, in Stede’s flashbacks to life with Mary and the kids, Stede thinks he’s ruined dinner. But remember, we also see another version of the scene where Stede is laughing with Mary and the kids.  Stede isn’t exactly a reliable narrator. Even in his own head.

Despite it being beyond unlikely, Ed finds soldiers reading one of Stede’s letters. I know physics in this show is sketchy, but this seems like a good time to point out no one found the red silk. Stede wants Ed to read a letter and for it to fix everything between them. The letter, plus Stede being in danger, make Ed swim out, find his leathers, and emerge from the sea with them on, while the music is the Swede’s solo from Stede’s fuckery in s1e6. Stede wants to be rescued by his handsome pirate in leather, again, just like a pulp adventure romance novel. Little chance of Ed swimming out and finding his kit.  Even less of him getting leather pants on under the water.

Back to the beach… for some reason two squads of soldiers are wandering around out on an empty beach. A visually incredible fight scene occurs. It honestly reminds me of Pete’s story in s1e2, including flips. Ed and Stede yell each other’s names exactly as in the dream. Like I’m pretty sure they used the same audio track. The same song (I Love My Baby, Nina Simone) starts playing. Ed says “I love you.” Stede says “I know.” (We’ll come back to the Han Solo joke in a minute.) They have a bit more absurd fighting then Ed, Stede, and Zheng sit on the beach complimenting each other. And Ed calls Stede “babe”.  He’s never done that outside of Stede’s dream and this moment. He’s called him mate a couple of times.  Babe is exclusively in Stede’s head.

Back in the Republic of Pirates, the crew are locked in a cell that is actually the “vista suite” at Spanish Jackie’s.  Izzy gets a heroic entrance. It’s as cool as Stede thinks Izzy is. And he gives a speech that sounds like what he probably told Stede to get him to relinquish the suit in episode 5. Piracy is about belonging to something. You can’t ignore the wishes of the crew.  Izzy also knows details about Captain Kidd and Pinocchio. Not impossible, but not exactly Izzy’s wheelhouse. It is Stede’s though. He’s obsessed with pirate tales and he read Pinocchio to the crew.

Stede, Ed, and Zheng show up just as Jackie has poisoned a bunch of soldiers. Stede makes a plan, despite everyone else being more qualified. Everyone disguises themselves as soldiers. Now we’ve seen the crew of the Revenge wear disguises. They never do the weird free styling they do here. Only Stede actually looks like a British officer. Zheng at least wears the disguise properly. Suddenly Ed has a multi gun bandolier like Blackbeard in the books. Pete ripped the arms off. Izzy is still wearing his vest. Doesn’t make sense if we’re going for stealth. Neither does not checking hostage Ricky for weapons or putting Izzy and his wooden leg at the front of the group.

If I'm right, Stede wouldn't know Ricky was behind the explosions. However,  Ricky is basically evil Stede. He's Stede's perfect foil. All of this is reflecting Stede's psyche. So, of course, it's Ricky.

Izzy gets shot and says quite a lot of nonsense in his death scene. “They love you, Ed.” Um, 3 of them were going to leave like five minutes ago. Ed has made some progress with the crew, but we’re not at “they love you Ed”.  The only person who thinks the crew loves Ed is Stede. Stede who weeps for Izzy while most of the crew aren’t showing much emotion. Stede can barely deal with his own big feelings. His fantasy doesn’t give the crew room to have them. Also, given the rest of the season, having Jim just let Ed be the person cradling Izzy doesn’t fit. The crew is also pretty stony at Izzy’s funeral.

I feel like it should be noted the last shot of Izzy in episode 7, he’s got one are around Jim and a hand on Lucius’s shoulder. He sat in Wee John’s lap in episode 6. Reactions to his death don’t make sense.

Also, Izzy’s terrible grave marker is very … Stede. He’d think it was a brilliant idea.

I didn't understand at first why Izzy had to die, even in Stede's dream world. Stede clearly likes him a lot better now. Why kill him? Well, it's because we're supposed to think Buttons is there to go to the Gravy Basket for Izzy. When actually he's already arrived in the Gravy Basket and he's there for Stede. Also, mentors die in pulp adventure novels. Stede sees Izzy as a mentor.

They go aboard the Revenge for Lucius and Pete’s wedding. It’s cute that the crew performs the ceremony, but I’d venture a guess that’s because Stede doesn’t know a captain should do it if it's legally binding. Stede does love the romance of it all.  The sudden uptick in monogamy is also very Stede. He barely understands monogamous relationships. Polyamory is beyond him.

Then Stede and Ed, who earlier told Zheng they’d help hunt Ricky, go back to the island where Izzy is buried to start an inn in a run down shack.  Stede knows Ed wants to do this because Ed told the (Taika’s) kids that they ran an inn.  We hear Ed ask “Jesus, what is that smell?” Now, at first, I thought Izzy, because Ed “knows the smell of my rotting first mate”. But what was the last thing to happen in Stede’s dream? A fart joke.

Last scene is Buttons landing on Izzy’s grave. To retrieve Izzy from the Gravy Basket? No, Izzy’s not dead. He’s with Jim and Lucius, probably watching over Stede’s corpse. Buttons is there to retrieve Stede.

This theory fixes the plot holes and dropped threads problem. We’re coming back to them next season. Ed's amends making should be far from over. And we see several moments during the season where he acknowledged that. And yet here on the island they've set up a horror movie and called it a happy ending.  Well, Stede is the type of boss who thinks things are fixed with a pizza (Calypso) party. In Stede's mind, this is a happy ending.  But really Ed is still off finding himself,  Stede is (temporarily) dead, and Izzy (who is not dead!) is probably guarding Stede's corpse.

They haven't resolved the domestic violence thread, but they haven't dropped it, either. Izzy is alive. Stede and Ed aren't together (yet). There's still time.

This also explains some of the freewheeling nonsense David Jenkins has been spouting in articles. Ed doesn’t see Izzy as a father figure and mentor, Stede does.  Stede almost turned to mush when Izzy approved of him. And David is writing a three volume adventure novel. Han Solo (Stede) is in carbonate (the Gravy Basket). The perfect end to the second act. See, I told you we’d get back to the Han Solo joke.

I still have problems with the season.  I really think they need a sensitivity reader. Even just implying a newly disabled character was fridged is certainly a choice. Especially given the amount of time devoted to how the character handled the disability. The DV scenes were brutal, as well as the suicide attempt, and the Human Puppet joke. I think they need someone trauma informed and disabled in the writer's room. (David Jenkins hit me up!)

Overall, I liked season 2. Especially once I realized Izzy wasn't dead. I'm looking forward to season 3, the conclusion of the Gentle Beard arc, and hopefully 6 seasons and a movie of Izzy (to be clear, he's not captain) and the kids sailing up and down the coast being gay and doing crimes, occasionally checking in with Stede and Ed.

Seriously, David, call me.

Historical Note: IRL Blackbeard died on November 22, 1718, killed in a naval battle off Ocracoke Island in North Carolina. IRL Stede Bonnet died December 10, 1718, hanged in Charles Town, South Carolina for piracy.  IRL Israel “Izzy” Hands survives piracy, death date unknown. I know this show doesn’t actually care about historical accuracy, but this lends a little support for my Ed died, then Stede died, and Izzy isn’t dead theory.

#our flag means death #ofmd #izzy hands #stede bonnet #gravy basket #Izzy Hands lives #David Jenkins I just want to talk

[sonicexelle-junkary]

Okay, Art block has been hitting me hard and I can’t get myself to do work on the AU idea I had, so I can’t make something fun to introduce you guys to the AU first off.

Instead, I’ll simply explain what the story is gonna be about, as well as the plot to it. I’ll include the art I have made so far for the au as well (which isn’t much). Feel free to ask any questions and I’ll answer best I can.

AU: QUIET ON SET

The au takes place in a 1970’s to 1990’s sitcom set of a very popular show called [REDACTED] produced by [REDACTED] (I don’t have proper names for them yet). Pretty much the whole cast of Sonic is here, with our main character Sonic, secondary characetrs Amy, Tails, and Knuckels. As well as occasional and returning guest stars; Shadow, Mighty, Ray, Rouge, Vanilla, Cream, and a whole lot more!

“But this is a horror AU, right?” I hear you say. “This is for your horror blog. It has to be horror. Is it?” And you’d be right!

After suffering a massive concussion from a falling light fixture on set, Sonic wakes up and finds that nothing is as it seems. In fact, he realizes that as far as he could remember, his life had been a lie, as he’d been living on a set this whole time, and he’d suddenly became aware of the fourth wall.

No matter what he does, he can’t seem to escape the show he was forced into, as the camera follows him the entire time, and he always stumbles back onto set, hearing the “live” audience react to every thing he does or say. His friends don’t believe him. Are they his friends? Are they even real?

Tune in to follow Sonic on a path of insanity as he tries to escape this hellish nightmare, through endless corridors, sets, rooms, trough this constantly changing place. It’s like someone is taking joy in swatching him slowly break.

Sonic believes that the only way to escape is to go head to head with the director of this show. He will soon find out that would be more of a challenge than he thinks he’s ready for.

#text post #art #fanart #doodles #sonic horror au #quiet on set au

[hotpinkstars]

HIIII I JUST READ YOUR BOOTHILL IDEA ABOUT PREGNANCY AND I AM WELL FED 😭 i love how angsty it is. oh boy i'm sure struggles a lot during his s/o's pregnancy. like...it has lots of cry and self-conflict because he may thinking that he isn't helping his s/o. there gonna be small arguments and misunderstandings. it's hard for the both of them and the baby. 🥹

ohhhh yes. yup. decided to take a real angsty route with this one. I added some mentions of his actual backstory here, bc my og one was written before his backstory was released lols

Boothill definitely cries during your whole entire pregnancy. He also has a lot of bad thoughts about himself during it, too. 

At first, he tries to hide it, and either subtly cry, or just simply wait until you’re no longer in the room or the house. He doesn’t want you to know that he’s not happy because of the state he’s in. 

He used to be human, he used to be flesh, and most importantly, he once had a daughter of his own, and that's what crushes him the most. He fears so much that he’s almost going to replace her, even though he knows deep down in his heart that it most definitely wouldn’t be able to happen. 

He also feels so bad about not being able to do normal human things for your during your pregnancy :(((( he knows how much you want to be able to be soft and intimate, to take baths and be able to have a cozy massage and just a cozy person around in general, and he’s the exact opposite of that. He doesn’t even think he deserves the husband title anymore.

He literally once asked you why you’re still with him and not someone else. You explained that you loved him and you wanted to be with him, and even then he never really expressed the way he felt about himself to you but you could sort of see it in his eyes. He didn’t like the way he was and the fact that he can’t be what he refers to as a “proper dad” to his kid. 

He knows it’s hard on you, too, and he also knows that you’re catching onto his harsh thoughts, and you’re catching on fast. It caused an argument a few times, on how you’re hurt that he’s not expressing his emotions, he doesn’t want to, it turns into a “do you not trust me or something?” conflict on your end, and a “I just don’t know what to say without hurting you” conflict on his end. Misunderstanding that likely won’t just dissipate. 

There was one argument that you both had when you were nearing pretty close to your due date, and he decided he was going to walk out midway through and not come back for about a week. For some reason, he chose a petty route, leaving you anxious and super betrayed, considering he refused to answer his phone, too.

The argument was over something that seemed incredibly stupid, if you both must say so yourselves. He was, once again, insecure, and he wouldn’t tell you why. That was what bothered you- did he not trust you enough? Did he seriously not want to be a part of this baby's life? Why else would he just walk out?

To say it made you super anxious, scared, and lonely was an understatement. You were left with the thought that you’d have to give birth alone, and go back to your original game plan that you already mentally set up. You thought he genuinely left you.

That was, until he walked back into the house on a random afternoon that next week. He ran up to you and apologized, allowing you to cry it out in his steel arms. He felt so horrible, and he vowed to you to never, ever do that again.

He tries to start letting you in on his troubles from that point on, but there still seems to him like there's a barrier blocking his words from coming out. Sometimes, he just blames it on his synesthesia beacon, which seems to work for now. 

He also lets you see him cry more often, but that stops when you give birth. He doesn’t need you to be more overwhelmed than you already will end up being.

#honkai star rail #hsr #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #angst #honkai star rail angst #hsr angst #boothill #boothill x reader #boothill hsr #boothill honkai star rail #boothill angst #x reader #x reader angst #cw pregnancy

[stuckinthesun]

Reincarnation

Levi Ackerman x Reader

Series Masterlist

S4 part 3 spoilers & slight manga spoilers

“Please try to stay safe, I can’t lose you too.”

That was the last thing Levi said to you before the squad jumped out the plane, diving head first for Eren.

You needed to stop the rumbling, no matter what.

The fight was brutal and heartbreaking, having to fight Eren wasn’t easy for anyone.

As you flew through the air, weaving through bone, one of the titans trying to stop you had grabbed you from midair, stopping you in your tracks.

You let out a scream as you feel it crushing your ribs in it’s giant fist, causing the to look back at you. They all tried to get to you, tried to save you, but it was too late. Blood poured from your mouth and nose, your breathing stopped, and the titan let go of you, dropping you like trash.

Your body didn’t fall though, no. With impressive speed, a man covered in bandages and scars was quick to catch you.

Levi didn’t have any tears, not yet. Not until the fight was over, and he knew once and for all it wasn’t all for nothing.

Then, he would cry like he was that little boy in the underground again.

—

You woke up screaming.

Sweat soaked your sheets, tears stained your cheeks, and you woke up screaming and kicking. You flailed out of your bed, falling onto the floor with a thud, but you barely registered it because you couldn’t breathe.

Was that real? Was that a lucid dream? What was that?

Flash’s of green cloaks and gray eyes and blood, so much blood, keep playing in your mind’s eyes, making your panic worsen, that you didn’t notice someone come into your room.

Not until they tried to touch you.

The hand on your shoulder had you jerking, whipping around and reaching for a weapon that wasn’t there. What you were met with though had your hands shaking even worse than before.

“S-Sasha?”

“Y/N… do you remember? Do you remember everything from… then… now?” Sasha asked, looking at you tentatively, slowly kneeling down in front of you.

You remember her dying suddenly and you let out a sob, nodding at her, “What’s going on?”

“I’ll explain.”

—

“So, reincarnation?” You sigh, now sitting on the couch in the living room of your shared apartment with Sasha.

You both are in college and, after getting her memories, Sasha made a serious effort to befriend you. Now you both live together.

“Yeah, and it seems you unlock your memories after you die in the previous life.” Sasha said, sitting next to you eating a bowl of cereal despite it being two in the morning.

You let out another deep sigh and run your hands over your face, feeling overwhelmed and exhausted.

“It’ll get easier, I promise.” Sasha reassured, “and hey, we have each other.”

Turning to look at her you smile, nodding.

Yeah, at least you have each other.

—

Almost a year later and the nightmares have only just barely stopped. It has gotten easier, but the deep ache of missing him is what is so hard to move on from.

You miss Levi so much, and only having vague memories of him from a life you’d much rather forget, if painful.

One morning you walk into the coffee shop near your apartment building, a routine you’ve picked up from the lack of proper sleep recently. The bell chimes as you open the door and when you look towards the counter, you instantly stop.

Black hair styled in a familiar undercut.

The man’s back is to you, it could just be a coincidence. Undercuts are pretty popular right now so-

“Order for Mr. Ackerman?”

Your heart stops.

“Thank you.” An oh so familiar deep voice says, grabbing the cup from the barista with a polite nod. You couldn’t help but notice the string coming out of the cup, indicating it was tea.

It was him. It was Levi.

He was turning around, he was going to see you and-

“Excuse me.” Levi turned around and barely spared you a glance, just brushed past you and walked out of the shop.

You blinked, and blinked again, feeling your heart slowly shattering.

“Miss?” You heard the person at the counter say but you were already leaving, making a break for your apartment and hoping that Sasha was still there.

You felt tear’s building as you ran, not paying attention to your surroundings. You think you bumped into someone, hearing them yelling at you for spilling their drink, but you kept going.

Sasha was still there when you busted through the door, full panic attack. She immediately pulled you into her arms, asking what happened and telling you to breathe with her.

“It- it was him, I s-saw him!”

“Who? Who did you see?”

“L-Levi.” You finally sobbed, crying full force into her chest as she held you through it, now completely understanding.

You finally saw the man you loved from a lifetime ago, and he didn’t remember you.

#levi ackerman x reader #levi x reader #levi ackerman angst #levi x y/n #levi ackerman #levi ackerman x y/n #levi attack on titan #snk levi #levi x you #levi ackerman x you #captain levi #aot x reader #levi ackerman fanfiction #levi ackerman smut #reincarnation stuckinthesun

[starry-eyedblog]

pain meds

ghost/soap/female reader

wordcount: 3,591

warning/tags: 18+ smut, non con, sexual assault dark themes, taking advantage, medications, lying, manipulation, gaslighting, pussy eating, grinding/humping

authors note: first long fic here, woohoo! pls do not read this if it's nae yer cup of tea. i'm trying to write darker themes and nae feel guilty, and here was the first thing my brain made so pls enjoy! also am i projecting a bit? aye, but it's fine!

─── ☆ ─── ☆ ─── ☆ ─── ☆ ───

it’s been a rough, tiring day and your body just cannot handle it anymore. you’re currently sat in the lounge, curled up on the worn out couch. you’ve been wanting to go to your bedroom for twenty minutes now but every time you move to get up, pain spikes through you. seems you’ll have to bite the bullet soon though.

“ye awright hen? yer lookin’ a bit peely-wally.” soap comments as he walks into the lounge with ghost behind him. you don’t bother to move your head up to stare into their eyes, keeping your face pressed into one of the flat cushions.

soap sits across from you, while ghost takes the space next to you on the couch, your knees pressing together due to him man spreading. “am fine soap, just sore.” you shrug him off, desperate to just get into your bedroom where your meds are. “c’mon, tell us what’s up.” ghost responds, his voice gruff and slightly muffled from his balaclava.

you want to shrug him off too, but now that both men are staring down at you with concern, theres no point trying to lie or ignore them. “it’s just my chronic pain. been really bad all day.” you say quietly. both men let out soft exhales at your answer, but soap is first to speak up. “need anythin’?” he asks, not taking his eyes off of you.

a light groan leaves you as you move slightly on the couch and pull your face out of the pillow, looking over at soap. “my pain meds, been wanting to get off the couch for ages now to lay down and take them.” you chuckle weakly and ghost is fast to answer. “want me to grab them and bring them through?” he asks, looking down at you with beady brown eyes.

“no no it’s alright, need to take them in my room.” you say weakly, pushing the blanket off of your body as you try stretch your legs out which sends a sharp pain through you. “why can’t you take them through here?” ghost questions, his eyebrow raising slightly. “long story short, they get me high off my face and i only feel comfortable taking them in my room.” you answer truthfully, looking at ghost.

“fit are ye on?” soap asks innocently, smiling kindly at you which makes you feel warm inside. “codeine, strongest dose.” you tell him, to which soap makes a low whistle. “yer on the proper strong stuff.” he chuckles, glancing at ghost who returns the eye contact. “assuming that you don’t take it often then.” ghost chimes in, looking down at you as you try stretch your limbs out.

“god no, wouldn’t be able to function. only take them when it’s real bad, can barely think let alone focus on them. it’s like my brain goes fuzzy.” you explain, all your words sinking into both mens minds and being stored away. “and you’re all alone when you take them?” ghost asks curiously. “yeah? i mean, the meds make me drowsy and tired so i wouldn’t be good company.” you chuckle before you’re pushing yourself off the couch and stretching with a low whine.

a few of your joints crack loudly as you stretch out a little, the pain spiking and ebbing away a few times. “well, i’m gonna go take them now. i’ll see you in a few hours.” you say softly, waving at both men who watch you. “dinnae be silly hen, we’re nae leavin’ ye alone in that state.” soap responds, standing up and stepping towards you as ghost gets off the couch.

“what are you on about?” you ask with a raised eyebrow and confused expression. “just like soap said, we’re gonna take care of you. would be pretty awful of us to let you suffer alone like that.” ghost answers, his voice stern to let you know theres no way of changing his mind. “that’s very kind of you guys but i can deal with it myself, like i have been for the past year.” you answer with an amused chuckle, but both men don’t laugh or smile which causes you to stop.

neither man speaks, and for a moment there is this uncomfortable tension that has you desperate to scurry away. “we’re teammates, gotta look out for one another.” ghost responds, and you feel your heart flutter slightly. they just want to help, look after you for a bit. and god, does that sound good. even though you can handle it usually, it’s still a whole ordeal to go through, and to have not one, but two of your close teammates help just a bit. it sounds really good.

“you sure?” you ask, wanting to know for definite. “aye hen, we’re sure.” soap responds, taking another step forward to wrap a strong arm around your waist and guiding you back to your room. well, no turning back now you think. ghost follows behind, watching soap support you back to your bedroom. once you make it, you feel soap’s arm pull away and you sit down on your neatly made bed, a sigh leaving you as you fall back and lay down on the clean duvet.

“just tell us what you need, we’ll get it for you.” ghost mumbles, looking around your room and spotting the packets of pills on your bedside table, as well as the full boxes of the codeine that has several warnings in red on it. “you really weren’t kiddin’ when you said they were strong, huh?” ghost comments, looking back at you as you lay on your bed.

a soft chuckle leaves you as you shake your head slightly, not saying anything as you push yourself up and rearrange your blankets and pillows to get comfy. “if you could make a hot water bottle and grab me a bottle of water, that would be perfect.” you say, looking up at both men that tower over your bed. ghost nods, grabbing the empty hot water bottle from your bed and leaving, making his way to the kitchen.

“so chronic pain eh? first time a’ve heard of that from ye.” soap says as he sits down on your bed, next to you but with his legs hanging off the side, feet firmly placed on the floor. you look over at him and shrug your shoulders sheepishly. “just never felt the need to tell anyone aside from price. it only gets really bad when i’ve pushed myself way too far.” you explain and soap nods in response. “were ye born with it?” he asks, head tilting to the side slightly and all you can see is a puppy when you look at him, his big blue eyes staring into yours with curiousness.

“yeah, so not much i can do about it.” you smile, a bit of sadness behind your words that soap notices but doesn’t say anything on. he doesn’t reply, unsure of what to say and instead sits a little closer to you. “well at least we can take care of ye, eh? deserve a break.” he says comfortingly, placing his hand on your thigh to give it a light pat which sends a soft blush across your face.

soon enough, ghost is making his way back into your bedroom with a hot water bottle and a fresh water plastic bottle. he doesn’t say anything, placing the plastic bottle on your bedside table and the hot water bottle next to you on the bed. you thank him softly, sliding the hot water bottle behind your back and pressing it into your lower back as you sit propped up with your pillows.

without a word, ghost is grabbing one of the half empty packets of your codeine tablets and handing it to you, where you pop too white pills out and swallow them down with the water. “so, how long till they kick in?” ghost asks, sitting down on the comfortable chair at your desk you use frequently. “uhm, around fifteen to thirty minutes. and when they hit, they hit strong.” you explain with a chuckle.

“we’ll keep ye company, pet.” soap says with a smile, still sat on the bed near you, his hand no longer touching your thigh. you’ve known these two men for about a year now, worked several missions together and trained together. you’ve gone for drinks, attended parties and events but somehow, never spent time in the others bedroom for more than five minutes. even though you’re nervous, to be around others on your meds, you have an underlining trust with them. after all you’ve gone through in your line of work, you kind of have to.

during the twenty minutes from when you swallowed down your pills, the three of you engage in casual conversation, talking about work and family life. it’s mostly soap talking but ghost chimes in enough for it to feel like a three way conversation that has you relaxing. once it hits around half an hour, you can feel the codeine take affect, your eyes unfocusing slightly and your brain feeling fuzzy around the edges. your body goes limp against the covers, shoulders untensing.

both men notice the change, how your sentences start to become more simpler and how it takes you longer to respond to the conversation. “that codeine kicked in then, hen?” soap asks with a chuckle and you groan, curling into your self a little as the drug starts to dig it’s claws in deeper and make you feel disorientated. “yeah,” you mumble, grabbing for your water to chug the cool beverage that feels like heaven sliding down your throat.

ghost and soap exchange a look that you miss as you chug the water bottle, soon putting it back on your bedside table as you feel weight on your bed beside you. was someone in your bed? when did that happen?

you look over, ghost now beside you while soap stays sat on the edge of your bed. “huh?” you ask, confused as to why they’ve moved closer. “grounding, will help keep you calm.” ghost murmurs as he wraps his strong arms around your frame and pulls you back so his chest is flush with your back, legs entangled on the duvet. a soft whine leaves you, not understanding what’s really happening and why ghost is holding you.

but it feels really nice, god it feels better than that. to have this shred of comfort while you’re in this state, it’s soothing and you’re grateful for it. you don’t answer, instead sinking into his touch as you lay there and let the codeine suck the pain away. soap watches on silently, taking in the sight before one warm hand is being rested on your calf, not moving.

“yer oot of it, aren’t ye?” soap asks as your eyes flutter shut and you press your face into the pillow for the cool relief it provides. “huh? no m’not.” you grumble after the words finally sink into your fuzzy brain, taking longer than normal. both men laugh at this, knowing it’s a lie.

“sure love,” ghost mutters into your shoulder, his balaclava brushing against your skin and causing you to flinch, your sense of touch heightened from the drugs which makes soap grin. “sensitive wee lass.” he says as his hand now moves up your calf and to your thigh slowly, rubbing at the warm skin which makes your thighs twitch and subconsciously try to shut, but soap’s strong hand stops them.

“eager, aren’t you mactavish?” ghost teases, looking at soap from over your shoulder, his eyes showing smugness. “fuck off ye bawbag, ah ken you are too.” he mutters, glaring at ghost as his hand grips at your thigh a little tighter which pushes a confused whine out of you. “shh, you’re okay.” ghost whispers, his voice gravely and sending a pulse straight down to your core.

“wh-what are you guys doing?” you groan, your eyesight slightly blurry around the edges as you slowly open your eyes and push yourself up a little to look over at soap who sends you a cheeky grin. “takin’ care of ye pet, lay back doon.” soap commands in a sickly sweet voice, and who are you to deny him?

ghost presses a flat palm to your chest and pushes you back down into the bed, his arm then coiling around your waist giving you no room to move or wiggle. “just needed someone to look after you, eh?” ghost rumbles quietly, watching the way soap’s hand teases at your thighs, dipping into your inner thigh for a moment or two before pulling back. “go on then, touch her.” ghost orders with stern eyes, which makes soap’s head perk up.

“you heard what i said, touch her.” ghost repeated, his voice a little lower as he watches the words compute in soap’s brain. soap isn’t one to disobey orders, and soon his hand is ghosting over your crotch, lightly pressing on your clit. you gasp and whine, face pressing into the pillow. your meds have always made you sensitive, made you feel like an exposed, raw wire.

soap’s pressure soon becomes harsher, pressing harder and harder onto your clit as you gasp and whine pathetically, trying to writhe in ghosts hold. “want more hen? huh?” soap chuckles, looking up at you as he cups your crotch. the codeine starts to sink in even further, meddling with your brain and for a moment you stay silent, trying to convey a sentence or even a couple words.

“words, love.” ghost whispers into your ear, his balaclava pressing against your flushed ear. “wh-why do i feel..” you trail off, trying to find the word somewhere in your drug induced state. “good?” you finish after a moment, and both men chuckle condescendingly at your words. “wonder why.” ghost comments as soap begins to pull your pyjama shorts off.

it doesn’t take long for soap to get them down and off your legs, thrown to the side without care as he leans down between your thighs and brushes his thumb slowly down your clothed cunt. all that lies between the two of you is your simple black underwear, making the touch even stronger. you gasp out as he pressed down on your clit, his other arm wrapping around your thigh to get closer.

“put that tongue to good use, yeah?” ghost says smugly, looking at soap who growls quietly before he’s ripping your underwear off and delving into your cunt like a starved man. you cry out, back trying to arch as your fingers frantically grab at your duvet. soap runs his wet tongue over your slit, making his way up to your clit while ghost combs one of his big hands through your hair. “feels good huh? you like johnny between your legs, isn’t that right?” he whispers into your ear, his hand thats wrapped around your wait tightening ever so slightly.

you let out a high whine, groaning as you turn your head to the side quickly which causes you to feel dizzy and fazed, panting softly into the pillow. is… is johnny eating you out right now? god you can’t even wrap your brain around that right now, your drugged mind too fried by the pleasure to think much. short, pathetic whimpers leave you as johnny continues to eat you out with no remorse, your wetness dripping down his chin and soaking his face.

your hips buck up several times without you realising, your eyes rolling back as you drool onto your pillow. soap is groaning into your slick cunt, his fingers digging painfully into your thighs so you can’t escape even if you wanted to. his tongue is thrusting into your soaking hole, paying no attention to your clit as he enjoys your whines and gasps. he isn’t doing this for you, he’s doing it for himself.

ghost watches the scene before him, his trousers growing tighter and tighter around his crotch. (he was already hard at the idea of you powerless against him and soap). he slowly runs his big hand up to your chest, sneaking under your t-shirt and bra to reach your puffy nipple that he meanly tugs on. a soft cry leaves you, the touch too rough causing you try squirm away but it’s useless. he chuckles softly at your reaction, resting his chin on your shoulder as his hips roll up and grind against your arse.

a quiet sigh of relief leaves ghost as he grind his hips up, finally getting some touch to his neglected cock as he continues to toy with your nipples. your entire body is boneless between the two soldiers as you take all they are giving you. it’s too much, your mind unable to fully comprehend if this is real or some wet dream you’re currently having after being knocked out by your pain meds.

you’re not sure if it feels like five minutes or five hours, soaking in the pleasure and mean touches while your mind fizzles away from the codeine. soon enough it grows too strong and you’re falling asleep with soap’s tongue inside you and ghost’s bulge against your backside. they watch as the meds lull you into a deep sleep, head pressed into the pillow and mouth agape. this doesn’t stop soap though, he stays between your thighs for several more minutes, his hips soon grinding down into the mattress and humping like a dog in heat until both men are coming in their boxers.

the two of them tidy you up and tuck you into bed with your underwear and shorts back on, not leaving a single trace of themselves as they exit your room and go off to do their own separate stuff. it’s not until a few hours later that you wake up groggy and alone, your room now dark. you squint your eyes, looking to your left and making out the half drunk bottle. you waste no time in snatching it and gulping down the water before clumsily climbing out of bed.

you try to recall what happened before you were knocked out, vague memories of soap between your legs and ghost behind you. they sexually assaulted you… right? or was it all just a twisted wet dream? you’re sure you really felt them touching you but you’ve woken up all alone without a single bit of evidence to back up your accusation.

you saunter out of your room, not looking too good as you try track down both men which doesn’t take long as you find them in the lounge, quietly talking between themselves. “oh, there ye are hen. were ye takin’ a nap like?” soap asks, seeing you walk into the room with a confused expression. they take in how disoriented you are and do their best not to laugh. in their eyes, you look just like a lost puppy.

“what? you knew i was asleep. the both of you took me through to my room and.. and you touched me after i was all drugged up.” you frown, accusing them while you stand in the doorway. ghost chuckles quietly, staring up at you. “bad dream?” he asks, causing soap to laugh.

“fit de ye mean drugged up? did ye take somethin’? is that why yer accusing us of being perverts?” soap asks, a questioning expression on his face as your face contorts to confusion. “huh? i told you guys, how i take codeine sometimes for my chronic pain?” you say, not sounding totally convinced as you slowly sit down on the couch across from them. “codeine? chronic pain? first time a’ve heard of that love.” ghost replies, leaning forward a little to look at you a bit more intently which has goosebumps rising over your skin.

“i told you guys this already, and then yo-you took advantage of me. i remember it.” you mumble, feeling more and more defeated as the conversation continues. “think those meds have scrambled yer brain a tad pet, that never happened. codeine is pretty strong, sure it’s nae just them messin’ wit ye?” soap responds, concerned as he looks at you and it makes you feel even worse, the guilt starting to eat up at you as you see how sincere they are. did you truly just make all this up in a dream? it’s common for your meds to blur the lines between dream and reality, you’ve fallen victim to it many a time.

you feel absolutely mortified now, rushing out of your room to accuse two of your close friends of sexual assault, thank god no one else was around to hear your accusations.“…i gu-guess so. i’m really sorry guys, my meds they always play with me. make things feel real and make other things feel like dreams. im-im so sorry for accusing you of that.” you usher out, the embarrassment washing over you. both of them shake their heads, “it’s okay darlin’. we forgive you, ain’t that right johnny?” ghost says, glancing over at soap who smiles. “course, nae hard feelings hen.” he responds and looks over at you.

you let out a sigh, your hands running through your hair as you close your eyes. “can’t believe i thought that was real.” you chuckle weakly, leaning back into the couch and soap laughs softly. “so you gonna tell us fit happened in that wee dream of yers then?” he teases playfully and you flush pink, shaking your head frantically. “god no,” you utter and soap laughs again at your embarrassment, ghost joining in.

@alwaysshallow

@juvenillia

#simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #ghoap x reader #smut #tw noncon #tw manipulation #tw medication #cod x reader #ghost cod #soap cod

[venusandsaturnsrings]

venus venus what about foxtaru when his beloved is on her period?

BLINKS… BLINKS AGAIN… CARTOON BLINKING NOISES… anon i have THOUGHTS on this thank u for asking!!

foxtaru has a nose that would rival even the top search dog. he can sniff out changes in your mood, if you haven’t slept enough, or absolutely anything that doesn’t align with your typical state of being. your period is no different.

he can smell it before you even start bleeding!! it’s a slightly different kind of musk that makes his nose twitch and head tilt; it’s rather cute. if you ask what’s up with his strange behaviour, he’ll be flushing red and insisting it’s nothing you should worry about!! just a fox thing!! although you know that’s not exactly true, you also know it’s best not to press too hard for answers as it will always end with him distancing himself from you a bit without the slightest of revelation on his thoughts. he knows very well what that scent means and can’t help how it excites him :(( once the bleeding has actually started, foxtaru is facing an internal battle of the ages. the scent of blood plays into his more animalistic side plus he hates seeing you in pain. he wants nothing more than to wrap around you and be a good mate by taking care of all your needs but his cock is swelling and his balls feel so full…

he’ll do his best to help you when he can, fetching any pain killers, food, or heating pads you need to ease the aches and cravings you feel throughout the week. he loves feeling of use to you even if it means having to uselessly rut into your panties while locked in the bathroom. you accidentally bleed through one day? it’s over for him. the scent of your own slick mixed with blood is doing a number on his sanity and he can’t help the way his ears flatten back as he soils his pants… he’ll clean them up proper afterwards he swears!! just let him have his moment of depravity in peace, please??

foxtaru is very sweet when first proposing having sex during your monthly cycle. it takes him quite awhile of being with you to feel comfortable enough to bring it up. when he finally does he’s all shifting feel, fluttering ears, and red in the face as he mumbles out the concept. you have to gently guide his eyes back to you with a comfortable smile and agreement for him to get the message that you aren’t totally grossed out at the suggestion. he’s eager to just dive into the act so you’ll have to stop him before he gets carried away and explain the best way to go about it without ruining your sheets; they’re expensive in this economy!! the pair of you will now have designated towels to protect any surfaces outside of the shower or bathtub when the time arises.

the first time you get down to it, he’s salivating and making a real mess of you both. hips desperately rutting against yours and working orgasm after orgasm out of you before plugging you full of his swollen knot, he’s beyond thrilled at the act. foxtaru pulls out to find himself messy with a combination of his fluids, your own release, and blood; he can’t help but bury his face between your legs. suckling harshly at your clit, he licks up all that he can with a wagging tail and excited grumbles. prepare yourself for round after round with him flipping you through every position possible to get everything he can from you!!

(ps. he’s done his research and promises getting you to finish will help your bleeding end faster.)

(pps. don’t get me STARTED on what he’s like when he can smell you ovulating.)

#cw: periods #he’s cute but also so very depraved #he’ll do anything for u :(( #foxtaru #fox childe #foxboy childe #childe x reader #tartaglia x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin smut #chit chats

[sevenpoyo]

some brooklyn slang ik for all the ppl who wanna write for miles and kilometers‼️

feel free to add more idk everything but i i am originally from there and visit a lot this stuff i hear a lot and if you wanna add slang to ur writing this is a good place to start, not all of these brooklyn or ny exclusive but that’s where a lot of american slang starts and u prolly heard some of it b4. imma list it ne ways

don’t use like 8 of these in one sentence bc it will sound weird and i can’t really cover ny puerto rican slang or any puerto rican slang really bc my grandad is a bum so if you know some add it

the city is manhattan, not the other 4 burroughs, just manhattan, cus that’s where everything’s at

to cut ass is to roast tf out of someone , to get your ass cut is get tf roasted out of you

wyling/wilding is being outta pocket, something being absurd or crazy

yeah nah means no and nah yeah means yeah idk why they gotta make it complicated just look at the second word

good looks is like good looking out

it’s bout to be winter and i’m bout to see mad christmas fics and shit but do y’all know the proper way to describe cold ny winters?

if it’s cold as hell, it’s brick outside, not regular cold, ny winter is like nipples so hard i see em thru the bra cold

ex; “how it’s so brick outside i walk to the store wit my hair wet and it deadass got icicles in it” “yeah it’s fr brick outside today” “i’m not walkin wit u in this brick ass weather for a bacon egg and cheese?” (actual convo between my sister and me last winter break)

fronting seem kinda easy to me but is like acting or pretending i can’t explain it with out an example

“why you fronting like you wouldn’t die if they text you asking u to go out with them” “you can stop fronting like you like cars it cool if you don’t” “don’t sit there fronting like u don’t wanna dance wit me”

being tight over something is just being upset or annoyed

rj is so smart they said “We say tight bc you kinda huddle close to yourself when you tense/stressed or angry” i had no idea i just be saying it i aint know it had a reason💀 it make sm sense now.

“who got you tight like that this early in the morning?” “my momma came home tight yesterday for no reason, she threw a boot at me!” “i’m so tight this damn shift change has me working all closers this week”

jack is like claiming someone or something

i talk old as hell idk what the youths be jacking nowadays

cop is basically to get, used to be mostly 4 drugs back in the day my dad said (he don’t know why im asking him this)

“just copped me some retro 3’s” “bout to cop me a few percs in a minute”

speaking of a minute, mostly for my non americans bc that’s who get confused the most when i say this one. depending on the context this can mean a actual minute, a short time or a real long

“i’ll be back in a minute” is short “i ain’t seen y’all in a minute” is long. idk how to explain the difference besides context

bop is a good song, pretty easy but i see ppl on tiktok use it wrong

bangs/banger goes hard is kinda like bob for music but i be using it for anything fr

“this push pop is banging yo”

mad can be used normal like angry but it also means a lot or really kinda like hella ig? i usually uses hella when i would say mad so ppl can understand me easier up here

dumb also mean very in the same way

ex; “my english teacher give out mad homework for no reason.” “she be giving me mad shit over the smallest stuff” “i just had some mad good wings so i’m cooling rn” “this shit is mad spicy u sure you want some?” ''This shit got me dumb tight'' “you don’t need no jacket it’s dumb hot out here”

smacked is like high as fuck idk how to elaborate ur just high

lit is drunk

“Yuuuur!'' A signal, a greeting usually used to catch the attention of someone or something very fun greeting and very hated by schools, it’s weird anywhere outside of ny kinda at least to me.

being hollywood means u get a little fame and think ur all that or just that u got a little fame and they’re jokingly hating

ex; “i saw u on the news the other day, “the prowlers return” u must be real proud of yourself huh hollywood?” “and here comes hollywood wit his trending tiktoks”

real talk is when ur about confess something or say something serious in a not real serious setting or convo

“real talk we play a lot but i love you, my life would be boring with out you around” “real talk i’d never do that to you foreal”

go together is like go out kinda, y’all kinda match behavior cus y’all a couple, this one need a sentence 2 i think. (THIS ONE IS OLD AS HELL ONLY USE IT IF UR TRYING TO RIZZ MOMMA RIO)

“he want ur number? he don’t know we we go together or sum?” “why she wanna act like we go together, ion even know her?” “don’t we go together?”

i can’t even explain it with a sentence y’all just gotta figure this one out 💀

A bodega/deli is a convenience store ik most know this from the movie but some ppl think it’s all stores or all spanish stores when it’s just a corner store

the owners of the deli closest to my granddad house is muslim. and so we keep track of all muslim holidays when he’s closed

an ock is the bodega man, miles knows the man’s name at the deli we see him visit, but at any other store he’d call the guy ock

dipping on someone is changing ur mind last minute, usually canceling plans

ex “we was supposed to go get outfits together but they dipped on me last minute”

staticky is like wanting to fight or still being pissed after a fight

static is beef or on sight energy

you good can really be anything but imma list ones i can think of

it can mean like are you ok? or don’t worry about it, or how are you, or stop, or do you got a issue? or do you want an issue? it’s all in the tone of how it’s said fr

'Word of my moms/dads I saw/ did/did not *insert topic*'' Honest term, no lying present in statement i feel like (my cousins be putting anything on they momma fr risking shit on her for no reason)

'hold it down'' handle buisness / take care of someone or something. can also be in refrence to criminal who handles ''buisness''

NOW EVERYONE SAY THANK YOU TO @rashadisback BC HE CARRIED ME ON THIS‼️

i hope this helps any writers that don’t live here!

#42 miles morales x reader #miles morales x reader #atsv x reader #across the spiderverse #atsv

[thevelria]

You got his full attention (SFW/clubowner!Gojo x fem!reader)

clubowner!Gojo, who stares at you in amusement the second you enter his club. You are with your friends, laughing, chatting, having fun. You wear a dress that doesn’t show much, but still it makes you look irresistible. 

clubowner!Gojo, who is one of the most feared yakuza in the underworld, and yet he feels like his heart skips a beat every single time he looks at you. Your friends are dancing with random guys on the dancefloor, leaving you alone at your table. 

clubowner!Gojo, who is ruthless, cruel and emotionless. At least with people, who deserve that kind of attitude from him. But you…you are different. For a split second he wonders what he is doing exactly. It’s impossible to explain. There is only one thing he knows. He wants you, only you. 

clubwoner!Gojo, who is flustered the second he approaches you. Gulping hard with sweaty palms and awkward smiling. That’s all he can perform, because you mesmerize him in an instant. You find him cute, sweet and not to mention his looks. But somehow you feel this man in front of you is so much more than a handsome face. 

clubowner!Gojo, who is a real gentleman when he asks for a dance. The way he places his palm on the small of your back and gently leads you while a slow song pops out of the blue. You miss the second Satoru snaps and signals to the DJ to change the record. 

clubowner!Gojo, who pulls you closer into him, lets you rest your head on his chest as both of your bodies move to the rhythm in perfect sync. His Adam’s apple bobs the second he takes in your scent. You drive him crazy without you even noticing it. 

clubowner!Gojo, who asks you to join him in the VIP after the song is over. He smiles at how flustered you act once you get there. 

clubowner!Gojo, who keeps being a gentle, charming man only for you. Talking for hours, laughing and enjoying time together. He truly thinks this could lead to something real. 

clubowner!Gojo, who is totally pissed when one of his men interrupts you. But that is his life after all and he always needs to take that one specific phone call. After the call you know something is off. The oh so sweet and cute man turns into something else, even if he wants to hide it from you. 

clubowner!Gojo, who can’t stop apologizing for ending the night. But he needs to leave. Seeing your sad eyes breaks his heart in an instant. He writes his name on a napkin and places it into your palm. Kissing the back of your hand he promises he will take you on a proper date the next day.

clubowner!Gojo, who wipes his blood covered hands into his ridiculously expensive pants the second he sees a text pops up on his screen. The number is unknown but he knows it’s you.

clubowner!Gojo, who smiles widely as he reads your message. “I can’t wait to see you again.” He immediately wants to text you back “Oh, princess. You are already mine.” But in the last second he deletes it and takes a deep breath. He doesn’t want to scare you off. “I’ll pick you up at 6 sharp tomorrow. Be ready, darling.” And for your question about how he knows your address he only says “Don’t worry about that. I have my ways.”

#jjk gojo #gojo satoru #jjk satoru #jujutsu kaisen #fanfiction #gojo #gojo x reader #gojo x y/n #gojo x you #satoru gojo #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jjk drabbles #jjk fluff #jjk hcs #jujutsu gojo #gojo fluff #gojo satoru x reader #satoru #jujustu kaisen #flufftober

[gagmewitha-spork]

English Lessons (Leila Ouahabi x reader)

Warnings: none.

Description: Reader trying to teach Leila English is not going as well as hoped, but why?

Notes: hey! remember me? probably not, but I started writing this in like December and only just got it finished, I’ve got a couple of other fics in the works but going on how long this took to write it’ll probably be a while before they’re out 😬 (also not my gif, can’t remember where I saved it from tho so sorry if it’s yours)

Word count: 2460

“Leila”, you pause, rubbing your eyes, “this clearly isn’t working”, you speak in Spanish. You had spent four years playing for Atletico Madrid and had picked up the language surprisingly easy, so as a result of your fluency in her native tongue, Leila had immediately used her charm to convince you to help teach her English. The thing is, it was not going well, it seemed that she had reached a point and stayed there. You hadn’t seen any improvement in her ability to speak your native language for weeks now and you were honestly loosing hope, “I think you should just speak to the club, they can get you a proper teacher, which, might I remind you, you should have had from the beginning”.

“I don’t want another teacher”, she replies, in perfect, though still heavily accented, English.

“Well something here clearly isn’t working because every time we come in here you just get worse if anything”, you throw your hands in the air, feeling exasperated at the situation.

“I’m not”, Leila insists, “I am better, I just”, she pauses deciding whether of not she wanted to tell you the real reason she wasn’t improving, “look y/n”, she starts, beginning to reach out and take one of your hands in hers, but is cut off as the door to the conference room you’re currently sat in swings open, revealing your other Spanish teammate.

“Steph sent me to come and get you both”, Laia starts, speaking Spanish, “trainings starting earlier than planned because of the rain forecast for later”, she explains, “they want to get on before the pitch gets too bad”, she finishes and quickly disappears back out the door, not leaving either of you any time to ask questions.

“We better go”, you tell Leila, picking up the English practice books the club had provided you.

“Y/n”, Leila said, grabbing onto your hand before you could disappear after Laia, “my English is good”, she insists, though saying it in Spanish left you unconvinced, “you’re a good teacher, I don’t want another one”.

“Maybe try saying that in English and I might believe you”, you reply, your tone dejected. You left the room, heading straight to the locker room, before she could hold you back any more.

Leila pauses for a minute before following after you, hitting her head gently against the wall after you’d left, “Idiota, idiota, idiota”, she repeats quietly to herself as she does so, “solo decirle”, (just tell her) she mumbles to herself, throwing her hands in the air as she follows after you towards to locker room to get ready for training.

——

Training went well, the rain held off until the last few minutes so while you were definitely all completely drenched, the mud wasn’t too bad.

“Ice baths?”, Laia suggested to you as you all made your way back inside. It had become a habit that you, her and Leila would all go to the ice baths together after training or a game. Your ability to speak Spanish, and previous friendship Laia, having played at Atleti together along with Deyna, had meant you had developed quite a close friendship with all your Spanish speaking teammates. You would often spend time hanging out with them instead of your fellow England players, which of course had led to a lot of teasing from the likes of Lauren and Chloe, with them suggesting that you might as well go and play for either Spain or Venezuela if you enjoyed hanging out with them so much.

You nodded at Laia and grabbed your phone and a towel from your locker before following behind the young centre back and making your way into the ice cold tub next to her.

The two of you stayed mostly silent, both individually scrolling through your phones as the 5 minute timer slowly ticked down.

“So what’s going on with you and Lei?”, she suddenly asks out if no where. Your head whipped up to look at her, before your eyes quickly scanned your surroundings to make sure no one else was around to hear. Luckily, she’d chosen to speak Spanish so there would only be a select number of your teammates who would understand, but one of those happened to be the exact person you definitely didn’t want to hear.

“What?”, you scoffed, trying (and failing) to act as casual as possible at her suggestion.

“She likes you”, she states like she knows it as fact, “and I’m pretty sure you like her back so…”, she trails off.

“So what?”, you asked, before quickly following up with, “and she doesn’t like me”, you paused, “and I don’t like her, not like that”, you insisted.

The truth was, you and the older Spaniard had been dancing around each other flirtatiously for weeks, if not months, at this point. Your problem was you could never tell if she was serious. Leila was naturally a very happy, flirty person, a fact you knew well having played against her for years in Spain, and you had always gone along with it thinking it would never go any further beyond a flirtatious rivalry. But now you played for the same team, and what had started out innocently had developed into something you were afraid was becoming a little too real.

“Right”, Laia didn’t seem at all convinced by your argument.

The conversation ended there though, as the woman herself entered the room and made her way into the ice bath with the two of you.

“Who died?”, she asked, sensing an air of awkwardness around, “did I just walk in on something”, she asked, her eyebrows wiggling in a jokingly suggestive way. Neither of you responded, Laia just watching you as you refused to look up from your phone, “did I walk in on something?”, Leila asked again, a more serious tone to her voice this time.

Laia shook her head, rolling her eyes, both at Leilas ridiculous suggestion, and at your denial to what she could clearly see blossoming between you and the left back.

The three of you stayed silent for a while before Laia conveniently got a phone call and left you and Leila there by yourselves. Judging by the intense eye contact she sent your way as she left the room, you’d guess it wasn’t so much ‘convenient’ as it was set up.

“You want to have Sushi?”, Leila asked, in English, almost like she was trying to prove a point.

“Now?”, you question, as hers had been rather open ended and it’d become a habit for you to make every conversation you had in English a lesson for her.

“No, later”, she confirmed, rolling hers eyes at you as she knew what you were doing.

“Ask me again”.

“You want sushi later?”, she asked again.

“I might get sushi later, yeah, why?”, you were being difficult. You knew exactly what she was trying to say and she knew it, you just wanted her to ask it properly.

“You want it with me?”, she pushed, getting closer to how you wanted her to say it.

“Want what with you?”, you feigned confusion and she rolled her eyes.

“Do you want to got out for sushi with me later?”, she asked, in Spanish this time, as she’d given up trying to work out how to say it in English.

“No comprendo”, you shrugged you shoulders at her, acting like you didn’t understand what she was saying.

She slapped your shoulder, “You want to have sushi later, with me”, she finally says, though it sounds more like a statement than a question.

“I would love to”, you smiled cheekily at her. She shoved your shoulder lightly in response, “on one condition”.

“Ugh, what?”, she rolled her eyes.

“You have to speak English, all evening”, you state.

Your alarm sounded suddenly, signalling your 5 minutes in the ice cold water you hated so much was over and you immediately moved to leave the small pool.

A hand grabbed yours before you could make it all the way out however.

“This means we still have lessons for English tomorrow, yes?”, Leila asked you, the look in her eyes, combined with her thumb brushing over your knuckles almost making you melt.

You sighed, “Lei”, you paused, giving her a chance to pull you back into the pool, a little closer to her, “I really think you should get a teacher”.

“I have a teacher”, she insisted, grabbing your second hand, “she is the best”, the soft look in her eye was gradually changing into that look. You know the one, where her lips curve into that charming smirk, and for a second you think she might just lean in and kiss you.

She doesn’t, and you scold yourself for even allowing your mind to go there.

“We’ll see”, you state, removing yourself from her grip and exiting the pool.

Leila watches as you leave, and internally groans. She decides then and there that she needs to tell you how she feels.

——

It’s much later in the day when you find yourself taking a seat at a table opposite Leila. You’d lost count of the number of times the two of you had come here, it was definitely at least twice a week at this point, but you loved it.

“Let me guess”, Leila says as she picks up a menu, “onigiri?”, she asks, referring to the rice dish you got every time you came.

“You know me so well”, you smile back at her, before reading over some of the other options.

The evening goes the same as any other the two of your spent eating sushi together. Far too much food is consumed and you’ve talked about just about anything that had come up. Yet the conversation never got boring. It never did with her. And she had managed to speak English all evening, to a pretty good level too, only getting caught up on a few words.

You now found yourself walking down the pavement in the brisk Manchester evening air. The two of you had decided to walk home, your apartment buildings were right next to each other, as most of cities players were, and the walk was short enough for it not to be a trek, but long enough that it allowed your overfilled stomach to settle before going to bed.

There was a brief lull in conversation as you looked up at the sky, the night was clear, and even with all the light pollution from the city around you, you could make out some of the brightest stars.

You’re pulled from your thoughts as you feel Leila’s hand intertwine with your own, causing your gaze to shift from the sky, to glance down at you now joined hands before coming to settle on her face. She was already looking at you, and unreadable expression on her face.

She was trying to read you, trying to see if what she was doing was okay.

“Lei, what are you doing?”, you asked quietly, but you didn’t let go of her hand.

“Holding your hand”, she explained simply.

You continue walking for a while. The silence between you comfortable, at least for you. For Leila, it gave her far too much time to think, and getting her thoughts together was becoming increasingly difficult.

She pulls you to a stop.

“Lei-“, you go to question her, but she cuts you off.

“You know I like you?”, she says, it’s phrased like a statement but the upwards inflection towards the end informs you it is actually a question. Knowing, however, does not help your brain fully compute exactly what it is she’s asking. Or is she telling you?

“What?”, is all you manage to get out.

“I’m not good in English”, she explains, you furrow your brow because the statement really doesn’t help clear any of this up, “in Spanish I’m good, I can flirt easy with you, but English is hard and I don’t sound good”.

“Wha-“, you go to say again, your brain short-circuiting at what she appears to be saying.

“I only want you to teach me English because I want to spend a lot of time with you”, she stumbles through the sentence in English and while your brain gradually catches up to what she seems to be implying, you struggle to fight off the smile that wants to form on your lips as you watch her, “I think you are amazing and beautiful and, and I don’t know any more English words that you are but I know there must be a lot”.

You’re just watching her at this point, as she adorably continues to mumble out words she thinks could potentially describe how she sees you, with the same smile plastered on your face from before, except now you’re not fighting it. Until eventually you can’t help yourself, the words aren’t coming to you anyway so instead of saying something you take her face in your hands and place your lips on hers, shutting her up immediately.

She doesn’t respond for a second, due to the shock, but as soon as she realises what’s happening, her hands are holding you against her instantly, and her lips move with yours in a synchronicity that honestly surprises you a little. In all your 27 years of living you can honestly say you’ve never experienced a kiss quite like this first one with Leila.

You pull away eventually, but your hands remain on either side of her face, your thumb running gently over her bottom lip, already wanting to kiss them again.

“So you-”, Leila starts but you cuts her off.

“You can speak Spanish now”.

She giggles lightly before speaking again, “if that terrible speech got you to kiss me like that I can’t wait to see what happens when I can use my charm properly”, she says in Spanish now, that signature smirk back on her face as her arms tighten themselves around you ever so slightly.

“Well it convinced me to help teach you English, so who knows what else you could convince me to do”, you teased back.

“Maybe we can find out back at my apartment?”, Leila suggests.

You agree and the two of you start heading in that direction.

“Just so you know, this definitely means you’re getting an actual English teacher now”, you tell her as you walk together, her arm draped over your shoulder and yours wrapped around her waist.

“Yeah I thought so”, she laughed, “I’m surprised you held out so long”.

“Well believe it or not, but I actually liked the excuse to spend time alone with you”.

“I knew it!”, she exclaims, kissing your cheek and guiding you into her apartment building.

#woso x reader #leila ouahabi x reader

[dorayakichan]

can I req a Joker fic where reader was with dom & vinny & we met him ( im not sure what chapter it was but it was the one where Joker made his first appearance & where he smacked the crap out of that boxer)

Joker x gn!reader first time meeting

A/N: Hi anon! So sorry for the late reply I was busy with exams so it took some time for me to find the free time to do this. It's actually shorter than I had planned in the beginning and it feels like it needs a part 2. I'd be happy to do one if so. And hope you enjoy it!!!

“I’m only helping you for three hours today then I’m out of here. Just so you know.”  Vinny told Dom as you approached the two boys you had seen at a distance while getting out of the new cake shop a friend had told you about at school.

“Helping him for what?” You who had gone unnoticed by the two young boys until then asked, making them both jump at the sound of your voice right behind them.

“OH MY GOD! YOU SCARED US! Why do your footsteps resemble that of a ghost? And why are you here?” Dom, who looked at least better than in the morning at class, asked.

“I was not scared.” Vinny who didn’t waste a second after hearing Dom finish added. It took everything inside of you not to point out the fact that he had flinched the most when hearing your voice. “I asked you first but whatever, I was here to buy cake.” You lifted the plastic bag with the cake inside.

“Oh, where? I want one too!” Dom's eyes lit up having forgotten about his sickness as you and Vinny glanced at each other sighing. “Wait…Look, are they holding some kind of event there?” Dom pointed at a huge crowd of people just slightly further from where you three were standing.

“Let’s go watch for a minute.” He ran not even waiting for any of you to respond. “Was he totally lying about being sick?” “I can’t tell anymore.” you honestly answered Vinny's question pressing your lips together, staring at Dom’s back with a disapproving look.

As you approached you could see a guy with white gloves trying to hit another one who had a red headgear and boxing gloves on. As the white one’s time finished the red gloved guy explained the rules waiting for the next opponent.

It all became quiet when an extremely tall guy with an orange shirt went inside the circle people had left open for the 1 minute match to happen. “I want a proper fight for one minute.” His smoky voice reined through the hushed sounds of the people around you penetrating right through your ears. You attempted to see more of his features as you pushed Dom and Vinny to have a better look. From your point of view, you could only see the deep scar on the side of his mouth and the white patch on his eye.

“What are you doing? Come at me! I will show you what a real fight is.” The red gloved guy said as the orange shirt guy put on the white gloves. He aimed at him with one strong punch as the other guy avoided it. He was not prepared for the punch to change direction and hit him straight on the side making his headgear rotate on his head. All this in just a few seconds!

“WOW!” You exclaimed. 

The red gloved guy adjusted his headgear and went for a punch right at his face. Which the orange shirt guy took, without flinching and just minutes after that threw a powerful punch at him throwing him on the ground.

“That was insane. He was fantastic. Woah!” Through the crowd, your voice was the only one that made the orange guy’s head jerk and glance straight at you for some seconds. “Hey doesn’t it seem like we’ve seen him before?” Dom wondered, making you realize that in fact you had seen him before but you could not pinpoint exactly where. As you were still in a daze observing the orange shirt guy, you heard Dom call you.

“Hey guys! We’ve got trouble. Jay says his bike is gone!” “What??” you and Vinny both shouted at the same time. “What do you mean?” “I don’t know, just follow me.” Dom who as always did whatever he wanted ran leaving you both no choice but to follow suit behind. Before leaving you turned your head one last time.

The orange shirt guy was staring at you with an unreadable facial expression. It was just a moment. A stolen glance yet it felt like an eternity. As you followed both Vinny and Dom to where Jay was, all you could think about was those seconds. It felt as if the world had stopped moving, the people disappearing from your view as all you could do was gaze at him and he at you.

Something had sparked that night and you would soon find out what that was and the whirlwind of disasters it would bring to both of you. 

#windbreaker #windbreaker webtoon #windbreaker x reader #windbreaker fanfic #windbreaker joker #windbreaker joker x reader #windbreaker manhwa

[harryforvogue]

hi this is the first date fic that i deleted out of hatred about two months ago. sorry for that! i won't write a part 2 but due to demands, i'm reposting this. fank u <3 harry and yasmine of course.

***

“I want to take you out,” Harry says while clearing the dishes.

Yasmine looks up at him, alarmed. “I haven't wronged you that much, I’d argue.”

He snorts, shaking his head. “No. Out. On a proper date.”

“Oh.” Yasmine frowns. “You don’t have to.”

He puts the dishes into the sink, mentally vowing to do them before they go to sleep. Or just him, if Yasmine doesn’t want to stay over in his room for a second night in a row. He’ll try his hardest to convince her anyways. He’s a master at persuasion, but his girlfriend is also as stubborn as a fucking rock.

“Why not?” He returns to her on the couch, throwing an arm over the back. “You really don’t think I’m romantic? I’ll let you know that I’m great at all that stuff. And when finals begin, we’ll get too busy with grading and studying so I think it’s a great time to do that now.”

Yasmine looks torn, which really perplexes him. “Are you so worried about being seen with me, Yasmine?” he jokes.

“No,” she answers slowly. Too slowly. She looks back at the TV. “It’s just that I haven’t been on a real date like that before.”

“Poor baby. But I haven’t even told you what we're going to do. You might hate the idea.”

“The fact that you called it a real date tells me all I need to know.”

He smiles, the back of his hand brushing against her shoulder. “You’ve never been on something called a real date?”

“I don’t think so.”

She looks so cute, frowning like that. He can’t help it. He leans over and kisses her head. She scowls at him. He doesn’t mind a single bit. 

Yasmine doesn’t pull away though. After staring him down with her dark, intimidating eyes, she leans in and rests her head on his shoulder. “Fine. We can go on a date.”

“Don’t make it sound like it’s a death sentence, Yasmine.”

“It depends on where you’ll take me.”

He leans his head on hers. “We’ve never gone to a good restaurant and had overly expensive yet mediocre food? Never went out for dessert either and swapped food. That’s what they do in romance movies.”

Yasmine takes his hand and puts it in her lap She squeezes her fingers around his before beginning to play with his rings. “And how many, on average, romance movies do you usually watch, Harry?”

“Oh plenty. I take notes too.”

“You’ve gotta let me see them sometime.”

He says, “No way. Take your own notes.”

“I don’t watch romance movies. Not as much as you apparently.”

He shrugs. “I’m a man with taste, what can I say? Maybe if you switched out a horror movie with a romance once in a while, you would–”

Yasmine shudders. “I’d never do that.”

“I seriously don’t understand how you don’t have nightmares. The last movie we watched, we literally saw someone get sliced in half.”

“And it was wonderful.”

He gives her a look. “Have you considered therapy?”

“Even more therapy? Give me a break.”

Harry’s arm is completely around her now. She’s left her hair out so it brushes against his cheek. He doesn’t mind that either, enjoying the feel of her soft strands. She usually keeps her hair in ponytails or buns, so he takes advantage and runs his fingers through it.

For some reason, Yasmine immediately feels the need to explain herself. “When I showered this morning, I didn’t dry it so I couldn't put it up.”

Harry shakes his head. “I love when it’s down.”

To this, Yasmine scowls again. “Stop.”

“I can’t stop.”

“Don’t look at me like that.”

He bites his inner cheek to avoid smiling. “I’m looking at you how I always do.” His fingers trail down, ghosting over her jaw. “Can you give me a kiss?”

Apparently not only has she never been on a real date, but she’s also never been with someone who shows her affection so outwardly. When she gets embarrassed, her defenses immediately go up, hence the blush currently spreading across her cheeks.

“No.”

“No?” He tilts his head. “Please?”

“No.” She looks away. “Go away actually.”

Harry laughs softly, wrapping his other arm around her too. He lifts her up into his lap and tightens his hold, making sure she can’t get away. Yasmine doesn’t exactly push him away, but doesn’t look at him either.

“Don’t be embarrassed,” he says, kissing her head again. “We’re dating. I’m allowed to–”

“You say things like that,” Yasmine interrupts, her face hot to the touch, “out of nowhere. It catches me off guard.”

He laughs again. “Okay. Sorry. I will give you warnings before I say something similar.”

“Good.”

“Yasmine.”

She begrudgingly turns her head. “What?”

“I am going to say something very ridiculously romantic and cheesy. Please brace yourself.”

Her jaw tightens. “That’s not what I meant!”

“Can I say it? Please, oh please?”

She crosses her arms. “Go ahead,” she mutters.

“I think,” he says quietly, twirling her hair between his fingers, “that you are the prettiest woman I’ve ever seen. And I’d really really like for you to kiss me.”

Yasmine’s face is so red, Harry wants to laugh once more, but he holds back, watching the words settle around in her head. “I hate you,” she whispers, her hands balled into fists. “You just say things.”

“I do say things,” he whispers back. “Because I want you to know precisely how I feel. I reckon one of us should be good at communication.”

“I am wonderful at communicating!”

“Oh yeah?”

Her lips thin. “Don’t oh yeah me.”

“Does it bother you? Poor baby.”

Yasmine’s eyes are narrowed. She stares at him menacingly for a full 3 seconds before her fingers slide into his hair, and she kisses him so deeply, he’s pushed back into the sofa. His grip tightens around her waist, a smile curling onto his lips. She may not be good at communicating verbally, but her body language gives it all away. She’s just as infatuated as he is. Harry’s other hand holds the back of her head. Fuck, he thinks to himself when she slides her hands down and grabs his collar, pushing herself further into his lap. She pulls away to steal a quick breath and then kisses him again. This woman.

Harry tilts his head back and lets her adjust herself on his thighs, her knees on either side of his hips. It seems like they always fall into this position whenever one of them is over and the other’s place, and if they’re together, he’d very much rather be doing this. No wonder they haven’t gone on a “real date” when this is all they do.

Yasmine pulls off of him, her eyes a bit glazed over but the frown still intact. It’s honestly impressive how dedicated she is to being upset with him. He cups her face. “You like me so bad.”

“I don’t!” she answers breathlessly.

“Are you refusing to go on a date with me because we can’t be doing this in public? Trust me, when I get you home, we’ll do this and so much more.”

She pinches his earlobe. “That’s not it.”

“I’d love to know what it really is then.”

Yasmine looks away, removing her hands from his collar, tucking them into her lap. She sighs and stays silent for some time while gathering her thoughts. Harry only watches her, too mesmerized by the expressions on her face before she speaks. 

“I don’t know what to do on a date.”

Harry’s eyebrows raise. “What to…do?”

“Yeah,” she grumbles. “How to be normal.”

“Well, I can pick the first place to go. I actually had something in mind. Something we’d both like.”

She sighs again. “I guess what I’m trying to say is that dates are awkward and so far we haven’t been like that so I don’t want it to sneak up on us.”

Harry smiles. “Yasmine, first dates are definitely awkward. But we’ve been together for two months now. I don’t think there’s any weirdness between us or you wouldn’t be sitting in my lap right now.”

As expected, she immediately goes to roll away. He snickers and holds her down.

“Besides,” Harry says. “I think we get along very well. I just want to treat you to something nice. I didn’t think it would take this amount of convincing just to get you to go to dinner with me.”

“We’ve had dinner together.”

“I most certainly don’t hope you mean at the dining hall.”

“No…” She very clearly does.

He gathers her up in his arms. “Dinner this weekend then.”

“Aren’t you supposed to ask me?”

“I tried that. Now I’m ordering you.” He kisses her softly. “You will have dinner with me this weekend or else.”

She frowns. “Or else what?”

“Or else I will make you watch my favorite movie with me.”

She blinks.

“Of the Star Wars variety,” he finishes.

“No!” 

“Yes!”

She starts wiggling out of his hold so he lets her go. She’s on her feet. “You can’t make me!”

“Oh I can and I will.” He shrugs. “Wear something fancy, by way. I’m paying so all you have to do, my frightening girl, is show up and provide me with your company. It won’t be that bad.” He reaches for her hand. “Come on. I know you want to go out with me. I can tell.”

She doesn’t deny it this time. He’s mentioned the date so many times, so she's probably accustomed to the idea now. When she answers, it’s a nod, and when she tells him it’s late and she needs to go back, Harry tugs on her hand until she falls against him and says, “Wanna stay?”

(Yasmine’s glad he asked because there’s no chance in hell she’d straight up give him the satisfaction of asking him.)

***

At night, they’re cuddling in his bed when Yasmine suddenly turns her lamp on and moves to face him. He’s had his face buried in her hair, arms around her tight from behind, ankles crossed with hers. His eyes open when she turns, adjusting his hold.

“Hey,” she whispers.

“Hey back.”

“Are you sleeping?”

“I’m answering, so I guess not.”

“Hmm.” She searches blindly for his hand. He laces their fingers together. “When you say dress fancy, what does that mean? I don’t think I have fancy clothes.”

He closes his eyes. “You remember that one dress you wore a while back? The one that kind had a corset sort of middle?”

The silence that follows is so deafening, Harry opens his eyes to check if she’s fallen asleep. Instead, she’s staring at him with a weird look.

“What?” he murmurs.

“I only own one corset dress. The black one?”

“Mhm,” Harry says. “That one. The one with the sleeves that kept falling down your shoulders. So pretty.”

“I wore it a year ago.”

“Yeah.”

“How the hell do you remember that?”

He smiles. “Remember everything about you.”

“You didn’t even know me then.”

Harry hugs her. “I’ve always known you, Yasmine. You just never looked at me.”

“Oh I did plenty of looking.”

“Looking not ogling.”

“I don’t ogle!”

“Sure. But yes, wear that. With those black heels boots you wear with your dress pants for seminars. And leave your hair out.”

“You have so many demands.”

“Don’t let them fool you,” he murmurs. “I like you just as much in sweatpants.” Yasmine’s silent again. Harry chuckles. “Too much?”

“You are always too much,” she whispers. Despite her words, she snuggles in closer. He kisses her forehead.

Yasmine doesn’t ask him any more questions. She falls asleep against him, still holding his hand.

***

The day of the date comes, and Harry’s gone all out. Currently, he’s standing by her door, bouncing on his heels with anticipation.

He doesn’t even have the time to compliment her outfit and her beautiful hair. Yasmine looks at him and then the flowers in his hand, and then promptly shuts the door in his face. Harry leans against the frame and laughs quietly. “Oh come on! I couldn’t resist it.”

“No.”

“We don’t have to take them with us.” He reaches for the door handle, stepping into her apartment. “I just wanted to see that look on your face.”

He holds the flowers out to her, looking at her pointedly. “Go on. Take them.”

She slowly wraps her hands around the stems and takes them. As expected, her face is flushed with embarrassment. “Thanks,” she whispers.

“You look beautiful,” he continues, sweeping her into his arms. “The dress is just how I remembered.” 

Yasmine pulls the dress down a bit. “A little short though.”

“Oh I know.”

“Of course you do.” 

Harry watches her set the flowers neatly on her kitchen counter. She turns to him. “You look great too.”

“I know.” Harry’s gone for a more casual look with a black shirt, jeans, and a jacket. He has a hand tucked into his pocket, and he can tell just from how she’s looking at him that he looks damn well better than just “great.”

He holds a hand out. “Are you ready for a wonderful night with just me and you?”

She takes his hand and lets him tug her close. “Yes, however, I’ve thought a lot about it and I can’t agree with you paying for it all.”

“No, Yasmine. This is a real date.”

“I mean it.”

“I mean it too.” He holds her chin. “I really am.” 

“We’ll see.”

“Yasmine,” he murmurs. “No.” He bends down to kiss her gently. “Now let's go. We’ve got reservations and I’ve got an Uber waiting downstairs.”

“Oh I can–”

“Which has already been paid for.”

She’s staring dagger at him when he smiles, pulls away, and begins to lead her out the door. When she’s finished locking up, he takes her hand, and starts to walk to the elevator.

“It’s going to be a good night,” he says, his eyes sparkling with excitement. “I promise.”

#i don't remember what i hated so much about it #but i'm not gonna reread it to find out #harry and yasmine #harry styles fic #harry styles fluff #harry styles fanfic #harry styles writing #harry styles x oc #harry styles x woc

[pagesfromthevoid]

A Real Nightmare | a.a. | 1

Astarion x fem!Tav

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: Cussing. Astarion being…Astarion

Author’s Note: I’m not even sorry.

Talk to Me! | Series Masterlist

Astarion, visibly frustrated, threw his jacket to the ground with irritation, aggressively stomping out the flames that had crawled up its arm. A string of colorful curses escaped his lips as he forcefully dug his heel into the dirt, determined to extinguish every ember. Witnessing the dramatic display, Tav instinctively covered her face with her hands, feeling her cheeks flush with a mix of embarrassment and panic. The crackling sounds of the dying flames, accompanied by Astarion's expressive language, created a chaotic scene that lingered in the air, leaving an awkward tension between the two.

The majority of the party had headed into the nearest town to snag supplies or dig deeper into their quest details, leaving Tav and Astarion to handle the camp setup—just the two of them. Despite their limited interactions in the few days they'd known each other, usually confined to brief and somewhat meaningless small talk, today marked a shift. It was the day they finally got down to setting up a proper camp, making it the longest stretch of time she'd spent alone with him.

It wasn’t the worst thing in the world; it’s not as if she hated him or anything…she just didn’t like his snide comments on everything. Or the way he looked at her like she was something to eat and not a person. Or the burning feeling in her belly when he flirted. But when he didn’t have an audience, he wasn’t nearly as bad. Truthfully, he was almost tolerable. 

Astarion had thrown a fit, complaining about having "worked so hard" to gather what he considered "so much firewood" (although three logs hardly qualified, she didn't bother arguing), only to come back and discover they had no means to light it. In a moment of misguided goodwill, Tav offered to take care of it. In hindsight, she should have known better than to make such an offer; her command over magic, especially when it came to fire, was far from stellar.

Which was how Astarion's jacket caught fire. And how her tent also caught fire. Though luckily, she hadn’t put all of her belongings inside yet.

"I'm sorry!" she exclaimed, hastily reaching out to retrieve his coat as he stormed away from the smoldering fabric. Examining it, she assessed the damage, hoping against hope for a chance at recovery. The arm was unmistakably burned through, but with the right supplies, she believed she could mend it. Her voice carried a mix of guilt and fear as she spoke, "I really didn't mean to do that – truly, Astarion. I would never actually try to hurt you, not on –,"

“You can’t even cast a spell correctly!” He interrupted, turning around quickly to point at her. His eyes flashed –a mix of darkness, anger, and a touch of dangerous allure.

“Excuse me, I can cast a spell just fine,” she argued, crossing her arms over her chest like a petulant child. His jacket hung at her side as she narrowed her eyes at him. “I just don’t have a lot of control after I cast it.”

“How is that any better?”

“Because at least I can do something!”

“You lit me on fire!”

“It was an accident!”

“What kind of sorceress can’t control her own fucking magic?” He demanded.

“One that has never been taught!” She spat back at him, her guilt receding only to be replaced with anger. He was allowed to be mad at her for lighting him on fire –he wasn’t allowed to insult her in the process, however.

“What the bloody hell do you mean, ‘one that’s never been taught’?”

Tav hesitated, realizing that maybe she had divulged too much. Her reluctance to expose her...deficiencies in magic was almost nonexistent.

When she had become the de facto leader of the party, and they had gathered up Gale into their midst, he had pressed her about her skills and spells that came from her home in Otherus. She tried to play it off at first, explaining that magic in Faerun wasn’t all that different from magic in Otherus, but Gale had been persistent –even when she explained she’d rather not have an audience. He just asked for her to join him in private.

It was there that Gale learned that their leader was not nearly as capable as she had made herself out to be. While she was able to cast spells and use magic, she couldn’t exactly…control the outcome. 

Magic had long been outlawed in certain parts of Otherus –in the main cities and around the edge of the kingdom, specifically –and Tav was born to a sorceress mother and a soldier of the king, who loathed those with magic at their dispense. Her mother, Fera, had kept her abilities secret for years until after Tav had been born. However, fearing that her babe would start showing signs, Fera thought it time to reveal to her husband what they were.

Fera had thought he would understand. That he loved them enough to protect them.

Fera had been wrong.

The King’s Guard had been called to the home, and by the time they arrived –Fera was slain, and Tav’s father was attempting to remove her hands from her body.

“A sorceress without hands is no sorceress at all,” he had seethed, pressing the blade into her wrist, breaking the skin and almost hitting the bone. 

The Guard stopped him before he did further damage; demanded if she had shown any signs of magic prior. When they determined she hadn’t, the Guard charged him with the abuse of a child; but his sentence was lenient for ridding the world of one more magic user.

Tav was ten. 

For a short while, Tav lived with her grandmother in a small village outside the kingdom but she was old and frail, and had no desire to raise a child at her age. Isowen, her mother’s sister, took her instead to the edge of the kingdom, as far from the king’s guard of Otherus as possible. Isowen ran an apothecary and taught Tav in the healing arts but forbade her from talking of magic or the arcane. Too many soldiers came in and out of their little shop; it was never safe. 

This was how it went for years –until Tav was old enough to go out on her own, and make a life for herself.

Initially, she had every intention of departing from Otherus. The kingdom as a whole, in all honesty, didn't hold any allure for her, especially if she aspired to master the control of her magic. However, the lack of viable means to leave or reach any other destination left her with no choice. Consequently, she found herself navigating a transient existence, engaging in various odd jobs across villages she encountered along the way. To safeguard herself, she discreetly concealed her magical abilities, aware of the potential risks that came with revealing her unique skills in unfamiliar territories. 

It wasn’t until the damned tadpole in her eye that she was finally taken away from Otherus. And now she was the leader of a band of heroes, trying to save everyone…and she had no idea how to control herself.

Gale had been sweet enough to offer to teach her, and keep her secret. Even though he did sound a bit snobbish about the ordeal, his lessons were important to her and she enjoyed the time she spent with him. 

Astarion continued to stare her down, his gaze unwavering, expecting an explanation. She felt the weight of his scrutiny, her left hand instinctively curling around her right, fingers tracing the scar that served as a perpetual reminder of the painful history of her life in Otherus.

"Have you ever kept so much bottled up for so damn long that when it finally spills out, it's like a wildfire you can't control? But, you know, strangely satisfying? Like this unseen weight you didn't even realize you were hauling around just lifts off your shoulders?" she asked, settling onto the ground before the dormant fire pit. She absentmindedly wrung her wrist, caught in the residual tension of her confession.

Astarion remained standing, though when she looked up at him to ask him to join her, his eyes had left her face and were fixed on where she held her wrist.

“I can’t say I have.” 

His voice was soft –sincere, even –and Tav smiled wryly.

“I’m from Otherus,” she explained, and Astarion let out a little ah in response –a knowing sound. She let out a humorless laugh, holding her hand to him now. “I had just gotten enough coin to finally leave when the damn worm got me. And now…I’m here.”

There was a moment of hesitation on his end, but eventually Astarion kneeled beside her and took her hand, examining the scar that rested between where her hand and wrist met. “You’re saying, darling, that up until you became the leader of a bunch of weirdos –you had never used your magic?”

Tav nodded once, shivering involuntarily as Astarion ran his thumb over the scar. “Here and there; but never enough to be meaningful.”

“Sweet hells, we’re doomed.”

“Must you be so dramatic?” She asked, though instead of the annoyed tone she usually held, it was laced with a fear that she wished she didn’t have. “I…I didn’t ask for any of this. I don’t know what happened; one moment, I was following Shadowheart’s lead then the next I was doling out orders.”

Astarion dropped from his kneeling position to sit beside her, one knee pulled up as the other was outstretched in front of him. He shifted and rested his weight on his hands. 

“You are rather bossy,” he pointed out, grinning at her teasingly, as if trying to ease the tension. “I suppose it only makes sense, minus the whole lack of skill bit.”

“You and Gale are the only two who know.”

Astarion practically giggled in delight. “Ah, so I have blackmail. I love it.”

She gave him a funny look, unable to help herself. “Astarion, you cannot blackmail me when I also know something about you.”

He scoffed. “Please. I’m an open book, darling.”

“You’re right; you are an open book. And the very first page says you’re a vampire.”

For a moment, she could tell he was debating if he would play off her accusations. She knew the look well; it was one she used herself when she wanted to avoid confrontation. But then he narrowed his eyes. 

“And how did you come to that conclusion?”

She rolled her eyes, pointing at her throat. “You have bite marks on your neck, Astarion,” then she motioned towards her mouth. “You also have fangs. You never eat with us, or when I offer you food. When you drink wine, you look nearly offended by it ���,”

“To be fair, it is shit wine.”

“Regardless —I know you think me an idiot, but what I may lack in spell casting, I make up for in intelligence. I’m rather observant when I want to be.”

At this, Astarion leaned in close to her, voice turning sultry. “Oh, so you observe me, my love?”

Tav swallowed hard, involuntarily leaning in as well without even realizing it. “Occasionally, yes. Probably as much as you observe me.”

Astarion's lips curled into a mischievous smirk, and as he subtly withdrew, Tav felt the heat rise in her cheeks. A mix of excitement and self-chastisement coursed through her, acknowledging the magnetic effect he seemed to have on her. As she opened her mouth to respond, the distant sound of Karlach's animated yell reached them, accompanied by the laughter of their returning companions. Both their attentions shifted towards the camp's edge, momentarily distracted from the tension that she was certain they both felt.

Astarion rose from his spot, extending his hand toward her. Tav met his gaze briefly before accepting his hand, allowing him to help her to her feet. Their hands remained connected for a moment longer than strictly necessary, a subtle tension hanging in the air, before Astarion finally withdrew and strolled away from her towards the group. There wasn’t a doubt in her mind that he was about to go embellish how badly she fucked up the fire. 

But instead of feeling annoyed, she couldn’t help the smile that tugged at her lips.

“I hope you feel that weight lift one day, Astarion,” she said, soft enough that only he could hear. 

He paused mid step, glancing over his shoulder at her. “One day, perhaps.”

#astarion x tav #astarion x reader #astarion fic #astarion imagine #astarion #astarion ancunin #baldurs gate astarion

[sinsandsweetness]

I love your writing sooo much, was wondering if you could write a hyperfeminine reader × daryl one shot or sum like that!

ok apologies, this is actually Rick & Daryl x reader 🤭 if you have something slightly more specific for just Daryl I’m sure I can write it too💗

“I feel ridiculous.” Daryl grumbles, scrunching his nose as you place the white sheet mask over his face. The cold wet serum taking him by surprise as you use the pads of your manicured fingers to shape it to his skin. Smoothing out the little bumps and ridges.

“Well you look adorable.”

You hear Rick snort a laugh from the dresser, where he’s folding laundry neatly into their respective drawers.

“What?” You ask. Curious as to what could possibly be so funny.

“Oh- nothin, baby. He just needs some cucumbers on his eyes, then it’d be like a real spa.” Rick jokes, turning back around to fold another shirt.

“Hmm…” You turn back to Daryl, placing both palms on his chest. He must see the glimmer of idea in your eye and decides to shut it down real quick.

“No. No cucumber.”

“But-“

“No.”

“Ok. Fine.” Your brows furrow into a playful scowl at the man in front of you. He does look a little funny. White sheet mask clinging to his cheeks, only able to see his pretty lips and those ocean eyes.

You’re sitting on top of him. Thighs straddling his waist. Wearing a low cut tank top that cups your breast so delicately. Perky nipples peaking through the thin fabric. And when he lowers his gaze, he’s met with your tiny cotton panties. White ones with these little red hearts all over them. It is laundry day after all. And you’re panties are so perfectly pressed up against the bulge growing hard in his jeans. His hands are on your hips, rubbing mindless little circles onto your skin with his thumbs. And the feeling of your soft skin under his touch, really isn’t helping his situation.

“It’s too slimy.” He complains, one hand coming up to pick at the corner.

“Mkay… we can take it off if you really don’t like it. But just let me rub all this stuff in. Give you a little massage,” you explain, peeling the mask off his face by the corner and tossing it in the bin near the bed.

His skin is glistening wet as you take your fingertips, gently massaging the serum into his skin.

“You really gotta moisturize more. You’re already getting frown lines, D.” Your index finger traces the crease between his eyes.

Daryl can’t help the look he shoots towards Rick, who has to bite back his own smile at your amusing commentary.

Daryl sighs and shakes his head with a smirk. Gosh you two couldn’t be more opposite. Him, dressed in all black and leather. Rough and quiet and even a little mean at times. But you… well you’re perfect. To him at least. To anyone really. Not only with the way you look. Always prim and proper. Frills and bows adorning your flirty sundresses and mini skirts. But the way you act too, regardless of all the shitty situations you and everyone else has been through. You remain bright and kind and soft and sweet and there’s no one else who’d say any different. And there’s definitely no one else who he’d let baby him the way you do. The way you coddle him and cling to him non stop. The fact that you’re giving him an at home “spa treatment”… that alone is enough to prove how much he likes you. How much he adores you. If it were anyone else, he’d tell them to fuck right off. But not you. Not his perfect, pretty princess. The only one who can make him melt into putty the second you get your hands on him.

You can feel his hips slowly gyrating underneath you. A distracted and mindless attempt to catch the littlest bit more friction against you. His cock twitches as his blown pupils linger on the swell of your breasts.

“D,” you scold, eyes going wide and displaying your bashfulness. Though Daryl doesn’t seem to care. Eyes darting up to meet yours as he pulls his lip between his teeth. Biting back his smile at getting caught.

“Sorry,” his gaze shifts to the man behind you; An unspoken invitation.

Soon enough, you feel Ricks knee dip into the mattress, planting himself behind you both, and pressing a sweet kiss to your shoulder. Hands resting right above Daryl’s on your waist.

“You two almost done over here?” His kisses move up to your neck while Daryl’s hands make their way to your ass, pulling gently and forcing you to start rocking back and forth.

You let out a sigh, tipping your head back and basking in the attention from both men.

“Think we could probably take a break…” you breath out, pleasant tingles starting to erupt down your spine at their combined touches.

Daryl pulls at the band of your underwear, the elastic snapping back against your skin, making you jolt foreword with a gasp.

Both him and Rick let out a huff of amusement. Pulling on the thong yet again. Getting their hint across as clear as day.

“Why don’t you take these off and let us give you a real massage, huh?”

#rick x reader x daryl #hyperfeminine reader #hyperfeminine reader x rick #hyperfeminine reader x Daryl #Daryl x reader #Rick x reader #daryl x y/n #Daryl x you #rick x y/n #Rick x you #Rick grimes x reader #Daryl Dixon x reader #reader insert #rickyl x reader #rickyl daydream #T’s daydreams <3

[yueisyum]

“You don’t get it do you” Valentine’s Day special

College au❤️Jeno x Reader

|| 🧸Basically, you’re trying to help jeno find a fake girlfriend to invite to his parents dinner next week. He’s been telling them that he has a girlfriend and they decide that they want to meet her on Valentine’s Day. Sounds cute right? But he does have a girlfriend, so you make it your mission to save his dignity. But for some reason he’s being really picky with his decision. Your not sure why?

“She literally perfect for you”

“But She’s not you”

Authors note🎈: HAPPY VALENTINES DAY!! I’m not completely proud of this as a whole, BUT if I add the fact that I only had like a day and a half to do it, it’s not that bad. There so no smut in this, BUT!!! As you know. You can’t just ask 😏. I’m hoping to maybe do something like this for some other members so if you are hoping for a specific member let me know!

[9:32] February 12th

“She’s also a no” jeno says from next to you on his couch. You slouch even more into his chest. “Jeno- this is the 5th girl I showed you. You didn’t even read the profile yet!” You complain.

You and Jeno are currently sitting in his living room looking through [app] profiles of women that had reached out to you. You got together after your run, and he had just got home from practice. You took a shower and told him about your plan to help him find a date for Tuesday. You had gotten closer to him so you can both see your phone screen clearly, and he ended up pulling you into him. Your back pressed against his chest. This would usually look weird to anyone else, considering you two are just friends, it’s natural between you two. It’s normal. Not weird. Not intimate.

“My parents know I wouldn’t date someone with that hair colour” he explains, shrugging it off. His arm that’s around you moves to swipe to the next profile. You slap his hand away and go back. “No no no, she could wear a wig or dye her hair or something” you continue to the profile and looked at the description. It was quiet short. It read:

[hi! I’m Eunchan! Im 22 years old, my birthday is august 4th, 2000. And I love to work out (do yoga) and I work as a creative writer]

You read the profile out loud, and you can feel Jeno shaking his head. “Jeno-“ you begin.

“Yoga? Absolutely not, yoga isn’t working out, it’s expensive stretching” you giggle and roll your eyes. “Jeno, just get her to tell your parents that she lifts weights or something.” You bring your knees up to your chest to make room for his cat as she lays at his feet. he takes a moment to think. “No, I have to get her to wear a wig AND lie to my parents? They would be able to tell she doesn’t lift weights by her build.” You sit up to look at him.

“You are being ridiculo-“

“-realistic” he interrupts and you scoff. You get up from the couch and walk toward the kitchen. “Where are you going!?” He gets up to follow you like a lost puppy. “If we are going to do this all night I’m going to need a drink.” You answer grabbing a glass- two glasses from the cabinet and he looks for some wine. You could faintly hear the kdrama he played from kitchen while he pour the drinks. You lean into the counter and continue looking.

“Oh here! Listen!”

“[hello, my name is minchi-“

“Hello? Who says hello?”

“Jeno shut up and listen..

[hello, my name is minchi, I’m 21 years old. My favorite colour is blue, my favorite smell is mint and I love Naruto]” you look up at him in anticipation. He loves all those things-

“That sounds like a child’s profile, she can’t even describe herself or hobbies proper-“

“Ughhh” you slouch into the counter. Grabbing the glass of wine her poured and took a long sip. He watch you with a smile. “Jeno, the point of finding you a ‘fake girlfriend’ is that it’s not real! It’s one night and she can be anything you want her to be” you explain, making your way back to the couch. Stopping to let another cat walk past you. This is their palace after all. Then take a seat at the sofa. “No they can’t” he mumbles. “Huh?” You look over at him, he’s making his way to you again. “Nothing, but my parent will be able to sniff out a liar, and I don’t want to take my chances with someone who can’t even tell people what she does for a living.” He sits next to you and places his wine on a coster.

You nod in understanding, this must be really important to him, especially since he’s being so picky. “I have an idea!” You turn to him and he gives you his full attention. “How about we pick a couple of girls, and then you can try going on a date with them. Just to see how they can act in person” he looks at you. It almost looks as if he’s examining your features but you shrug it of. “Please? Come on, this is the best way to find out how they can talk with your parents!” You fold your hands together and give him your best puppy eyes. You can’t help but love playing match maker, even if somewhere deep down you feel an unsettling gush of sadness. You push it aside.

He continues to look at you for another moment. And you swear you saw his eyes flicker to your lips once or twice. “Fine. I’ll do it- if your there with me” he leans back at takes his phone out. “What? Why? It would really be considered a date if I’m there” he looks up from his phone to glance at you. “It’s not supposed to be a date, it’s supposed to be an interview” you deadpan at him. “You really are ridiculous” you then pull your phone back up to look through more profiles with him.

•••

It’s currently [1:47] in the morning and you and jeno had ended up in the same position you started in. Except this time you cuddle closer into him and he pulls you as close as possible; complaining that “it’s cold”.

“Ok here, we can add this one too. It says [hi, I’m Hyebin! I work as an interior designer, I love bike rides and jogging. My favorite season is autumn, I also love watching anime and cars, I have a terrible sense of direction and I’m allergic to ca….ts]” your voice was sleepily and almost at a hum. It was music to jeno’s ears. Your head pressed to his chest and your hair smells like rain wood, probably your shampoo.

“What! No, how can you be allergic to cats?”

You laugh at his reaction. “Jen… your allergic to cat, besides, Shes never going to meet your cats, it’ll be fine- you two have everything else in common. I’m adding her” you add the profile and shoot her a text about meeting up tomorrow afternoon for an ‘date’. He didn’t like that you kept calling it that, but he wouldn’t say anything. It began to get quiet. The faint sound of rain hitting the glass. The dimly lit room and the air conditioning was blasting for some reason. The mood felt so cozy and his heart began to race- along with yours.

When you send the text you put your phone down and wiggle to get comfortable under the Blanket he has you two wrapped up in. “You tired?” He asks warping an arm around your frame. “Mm no” you’re already dosing off and he chuckles lightly. “All these girls seem perfect Jen.” You add.

He loved when you’d call him that. It felt so intimate to him. But it wasn’t, it was normal between best friends. Normal. Not weird.

“I don’t like her” he argues, closing his eyes. You can feel him trying to match his breathing with yours. You continue to lull yourself to sleep as jeno begins to rub your back. “She’s literally perfect for you” you whisper. You’re basically asleep now. You mouth open and your body limp, all you weight was on him and he loved it. He loved the feeling you you against him. He loved that fact that you feel safe enough to fall asleep in his arms.

He loved…

You.

“But she’s not you” he replied. He knew you couldn’t hear him, to far gone in sleep to register his words. But he felt a load of weight and worry leave his body when he voiced those words.

They aren’t you.

•••

[6:36pm] February 13th

The next day you met up with Jeno at modern cafe. When you walked through the door your eyes immediately find him. He’s dressed in a buttoned up shirt and slacks. It wasn’t unusual for him to dress like this, but you noticed his hair was given more attention then what your used to. You slide into the booth across from him.

Jeno looked up from his phone to see you smiling at him. Your cheek bones lift and your eyes squint. He can’t help but do the same. “You look nice” he compliments and you smile wider. “Me? Your the one you did your hair all.. fancy” you laugh when he reaches to touch the strains that fall in front if his face.

“Okay! So I’ll be at the table over there..” you begin. “So you know where I am if you need anything. Eunchan is the first to come, she should be here in like five minutes” you show him the texts between you and the other girl he couldn’t care less about. “No, no stay at the booth with me. This isn’t a date remember? It’s just an-“

“-Interview I know, but it’s between you and her. This has nothing to do with me”

It has EVERYTHING to do with you actually.

“I’ll leave…” he threatens, his arms crossing over his chest, and you can see his sleeve stretching to accommodate his arms. “You are such a child! Why can’t you have a 30 minute conversation alone with a women?”

You cross your arms to mimic him, but it only pushes your chest up. And he smirks at you. “If that women is you or my mom, yes. But other then that.. absolutely not” he shakes his head. You narrow your eyes at him, foot taping at the floor as you think. “Fine.” Your tone was sharp. And he can tell your getting frustrated.

How have you not put it together yet!?

[6:58pm]

You quickly slide out of the both and next to him. He watches you move and smiles and you slouch next to him. He absentmindedly leans into you. “You smell good”

It was a simple comment, but it had your heart skipping multiple beats. You clear your throat and sit up. “Thank you… your cologne smells good too…” you don’t look at him, but his eyes are on you. “Just my cologne? Not me?” He chuckles, but when he realizes your eyes are not on his, he followed your line of sight. you nudge him in the arm and squeal. “She’s here! Okay okay, relax!” You take two deep breaths as a beautiful women makes her way towards the table you and Jeno both sit up.

“Hi! You must be Y/n?” She sits down. Her hair was long and light, almost a orange colour, but it looked natural. She was gorgeous, her makeup simple and done to perfection. She sat with confidence and her earrings dangled when she moves her head, you admire her as she greets jeno, missing the words they exchange. She’s so beautiful, prettier then you; you thought. “Hi! Yes I’m y/n and this is Jeno” you gesture toward Gina ms he smiles to her. You can tell she finds him very attractive, and how could you blame her?

“So, I hear your looking for a “girlfriend” for a dinner with your parents?” She asks looking to Jeno. He looks at you then back to her. “Yes, I’m trying to find someone before tomorrow night”

“Valentines day?”

“Yes”

You watch them talk for a couple minutes. The feeling you had been stuffing down seemed to be overflowing.

She is literally perfect. They would look so perfect together. They might even end up getting together for real after the dinner. His parents would probably love her. And Jeno would probably come to you for advice with her all the time. And even if it killed you, you would give it to him because you love him. And if they ever got married- you would be there to cheer him on even if the sight of him placing a ring on another woman would literally kill you. Your best friend Jeno would always talk about how he found the ‘love of his life’ through fake dating. It would be a cute story to tell at parties or celebrations.

The thought of him spending his life with another women made the best of your neck hot. And your head hurt thinking about how he would be an Amazing dad…

Why do you even care!?

Why would him being with another person hurt YOU!? Your his best friend nothing more- But why do you wish it was you sitting across from him? Why do you wish it was you he wanted to bring to meet his parents? Or wishing you could be the one he would put a ring on?

Oh…

Oh

You’ve truly been avoiding it, because you didn’t want to face how he makes you feel… but here you are. Lost in thought- bathing in in your feelings. They’ve always been there, but now they are downing you.

You want him.

Like really want him.

Realizing that your not just attracted to him, but you can truly see a future with him.

Him.

Jeno.

Your best friend jeno…

You find yourself fidgeting with your rings while they talk, your brain feels foggy and you can’t bring yourself to look up. You tried to pay attention but your mind would just build with thought of them being together and you felt as if you would throw up.

But you have done it. You have realized that you love Jeno… now what? What do you do now? Say something? Confront him? Be honest?

“….Well this was fun anyway. I’m glad I had the chance to talk to you. And I wish you good luck with your parents” you lift your head to see the different, darker haired women make her way out of the cafe. You then turn to jeno, who’s looking at you. “What the hell happened I spaced out for two minutes!?”

Actually it’s been almost an hour; he thought,

Fifthy three minutes of you spacing out. Something was definitely wrong. he began to worry when he nudged your foot mid conversation, but you didn’t even flinch. Decided he should end it quickly with Hyebin, giving the second women a random excuse as to why she wouldn’t fit.

“She said she was a terrible lair, can’t have her revealing info, ya’know?” he shrugged and slouched down in his seat. “We should order food” he adds before you can scold him. Hoping food will fix whatever headspace your in right now.

You would never say this out loud, but your glad she’s gone. Her presence made you want to jump out if the nearest window and run home- never to be seen again. “Jeno…” he places down the menu to look at you. “Hm?” You finally turn to him. “Why are you being so difficult? Why won’t you pick a girl? It’s so simple, but you seem to care a lot about it” you ask genuinely. He thinks for a moment and you wait patiently.

“I don’t want just anyone meeting my parents. They mean a lot to me, and I don’t need a random women meeting them” he explains, while continuing to look through the menu. “Oh” you nod. Not wanting to ask him too many questions.

You can’t seem to focus on anything. Not when the only thing going through your mind is Jeno.

‘Jeno’

“Yes?” You turn to him when he responds to what you thought… were your thoughts.

What?

“What?”

“You said my name?” He leans in questionably, trying to find your eyes, but you refuse to look at him. “I did?” You turn away from him, grabbing a menu form the table to act like your looking for food.

“You did… are you feeling okay?” He continues to move his head in Front of yours; so you’ll look at him. When you finally do, your heart stops. He is so handsome so beautiful- no, breathtaking. His eyebrows pinch together, you can tell he’s worried. You don’t want him to be worried about you, not right now. “Yes I’m… No actually I’m not feeling well and I should probably get going. You seem to be doing well without me anyway” You place the menu down on the glossy wooden table in front of you and begin to get up.

You stop when Jeno’s hand wraps around you forearm. “Wait, do you want me to come with you? Is it your stomach? I can make you some ramen” He looks desperate and worried. So you put on your best ‘I’m fine’ face and tug your hand away. Your skin felt tingly where he had touched you, and the thought of him making physical contact with you again gave you butterflies. And you can’t think straight. “Nope, I’ll be fine. Your next runner up should be here in like 15 minutes? She’ll text you” his jaw tightened and his brows knitted.

“I don’t want to do this without you” he grabs at your wrist this time. The tension slowly raising with each respons.

What the heck is going on with you?

“Why? What changes whether I’m here or not?” You try to laugh but you can’t. So you just fake a smile. “Y/n please, don’t go. Your hiding something, I’m not stupid” his voice seemed more stern this time. “I’m fine. Text me after- and let me know how it goes” you smile once more before running of.

“Y/n-“

Jeno won’t chase you. He knows he can’t get you to stay and he wouldn’t want to force you, but it doesn’t stop him from trying to call out for you anyway.

[7:46pm]

•••

When you opened the door to your dorm your faced with your roommate Harim and her boyfriend jaemin. They were watching tv on the couch and you smiled to them before turning to your room.

“You okay y/n?”

Harim, is a nice roommate, really! But sometimes she can be a bit nosey. Not it a bad way, she just wants to know how I’m doing. She’s very empathic or whatever. So when she asked that question; you were scared to answer.

“I’m all good, just a little overwhelmed… need to be alone with my thoughts” you wave too her and jaemin. He gives you a look before smiling back. “Okay! If you need anything we are here”

…

You close the door to the bathroom and turn on the faucet. Then you lean against the counter to examine yourself in the mirror.

This is ridiculous…. Why is this such a big deal to you? The feelings have always been there… but now your freaking out like a child because you decided to address them!? You feel so stupid.

Telling him could possibly ruin Everything. That’s what everyone always says in movies… but now you truly understand the feeling.

‘Fuck this is so stupid.’ You thought.

…

When you finally leave your room, after what felt like hours of you contemplating on whether or not you should tell jeno the truth; you walk into an empty living room. Your roommate and Jaemin must have left. So you find yourself on the couch to relax and watch tv. Searching through shows that don’t involve the main character falling in love with her best friend. You end up watching some cheesy old chick flick that you’ve never seen before. You feel your phone buzz, the vibration affecting the rest of the couch. It was jeno, you pick up the phone and open the text.

You didn’t even realize how late it was again. [12:13] have you really been doing absolutely nothing for almost 6 hours!?

Man child

_____________________________________________

|| Man child -

Hey, interviews are over

|| Man child -

lm omw. I got takeout

- You ||

Alright!

_____________________________________________

You sit up and look around the living room. You’ve never cared wether or not it was clean before he came over before… so why now?

You spring to your feet and begin picking up plates and some cups to put them in the sink. Busying yourself with cleaning the dorm when you hear a pin being entered into your front door and the sound of the handle clicking. “Y/n?”

“In the kitchen!” You yell out to him while place the last cup on the drying rack. You can smell the food before you even see the bag. When jeno spears from behind the corner you shoot him a smile. He grins at you then places the food on the table. He’s wearing sweatpants and a hoodie now. But he looked just as good as he did at the cafe. “Are you feeling better?” He asks turning to you while leaning on the granite counter.

He’s hoping it’s not awkward after that weird conversation at the cafe. He had wondered what had gotten into you. To busy with that thought to care much about the girl across from him.

“Mhm much better” you examine every inch of him. His face, his hair, his hands. And he watches you space out. “So what got you feeling unwell?” He asks, pushing himself off the counter and slowly nearing towards you. “First, how did the interviews go?” You place the towel you were using to dry your hand in the counter

“No, Why did you leave me?” He insists and you give in. With a big sigh you ready yourself to tell him the truth… tell him what he wants to hear*

“Sorry, I was just feeling a little overstimulated, I’m not sure why” yes the hell you did. “But I just needed some time alone” you continue and he listens with a soft smile.

“Don’t apologize pretty... Did you figure out why you were feeling overwhelmed?” He asks, his hand coming to move hair from your face. The action wasn’t supposed to make you feel the way you did. This is normal between you two… not weird… you aren’t supposed to be this affected.

You are so beautiful; he thought. Your in comfortable clothes now, but he thinks you look ten times better then at the cafe. If he didn’t have half a mind, he would kiss you right now.

“Yeah” you unintentionally lean into his palm when he tucks the hair behind you ear. Your eyes close in the process and he freezes. You looked like a cat, feeding into his touch. He caressed your face while smiling down at you.

“Yeah? … What was it?” He ask, taking his chances and taking a step closer. Your thighs touching his, before he wraps his arms around you, bringing you into a warm hug; which you reciprocate.

“You…”

You didn’t mean to say it, but you didn’t really seem to care what left your mouth when he was holding you. You felt safe.

“Me!?” He tries to pull away but you refuse.

“Please don’t let go” you grip tighter around him. Digging your face into his chest. “I was overwhelming you!?” He asks. His hands stay open, no longer loading into you. Jeno just watches you closely, but you won’t move.

“No, I mean.. it wasn’t anything you did”

“What does that mean? Are you upset with me? Is that why you left?”

“No. Jeno please just hold me for a moment” you finally look up at him. Your eyes pleading him to hug you. How could he refuse. His big arms wrap around you, squeezing you into him further. You can hear his heart beating, faster then normal. He continues to look down at you. He watches you stare at him.

“Jeno?”

“Y/n”

“Can I be the one you bring to meet your parents?” He can’t help but beam at the question. He felt giddy and light. He doesn’t care about anything right now, the only thought in is head is you.

“Finally…” he muttered. You feel like his head is moving closer to yours, but maybe that’s just your mind laying tricks on you.

“Finally? What does that mean? Is that a yes or a no?” You punch your eyebrows together and try your best to keep eye contact with him. “You don’t get it do you?”

“Get what?” You are about to pull away to ask another question, but Jenos hands move from your back to your hips and you can feel your body heat up. “Y/n you are quite oblivious” his head is definitely moving closer to yours. His eyes are stationed on your lips and yours on his. “Jeno?” he getting unbelievably closer, you begin to hold your breath, grabbing his forearms for leverage. “Y/n”

“Are you going to kiss me?” You watch his face closely.

“As soon as you say the words princess”

You let out a sigh and lift your hands to hold his face. “‘The words’” you whisper and he didn’t even get the time to laugh, your lips attached to his immediately. One of his hands come to cup you face. His lips are soft and it feels like a movie. I know it’s sounds cheesy, but the moon was so bright through your windows and the sound of wind could be heard from inside the apartment.

[12:59]

He tries pull away but you won’t allow him. Your lips chase his and he smiles into you. “Y/n”

“Yes?” You look up at him when he pulls away completely. “Your going to be my valentine.” You laugh at his seriousness. “Is that a question?”

“No”

He leans in again to peck a your lips

“Please. Let. Me. Take. You. To. The. Bedroom.” He asks between each kiss. “I haven’t even said it yet jeno”

He pulls away. “Said what?”

“That I like you, and I think that there’s definitely something between us” you joke, bitting your lip, and being as dramatic as possible.

“Congrats… You were the last to realize” he laughs when your face drops.

“Wait- are you serious?” He lets another laugh leave him.

“Happy Valentine’s Day y/n”

[1:01am] February 14th

#kpop imagines #nct dream angst #jeno angst #jeno fluff #lee jeno #lee jeno x reader #nct dream x reader #jeno au #nct dream imagines #nct dream au #nct dream fluff #nct imagines #valentine’s day #she’s not you #nct jeno #nct fluff #nct dream #nct scenarios #Nct Valentine’s Day #nct fic #nct x reader #nct fanfic #nct au #lee jeno au