#I didn't remember this line at ALL 💀

[madelynraemunson]

pass the salt • e.m. smut

DAD’S BEST FRIEND!OLDER!EDDIE x FEM!READER

summary: you’re home from college and staying with your dad for the summer, spending as much time as you possibly can with him…and his hot best friend that you’ve never seen in your life.

authors note: okay have you guys ever seen those text posts like “when you say ‘daddy pass the salt please’ and your father and your man both reach for it” 💀💀 well this is inspired by that concept. also i went overboard and this is a LONG BOI

disclaimers — photo credits to @eddiemunsons-missingnipple 🫶🏼porn with plot, reader’s nickname is “sunshine”, reader has female anatomy, race unspecified, divider: @iluvpooks

NSFW — 18+ obv, porn with plot, daddy kink pls keep scrolling if it’s not ur thing, slight age gap (eddie is mid to late 30s, reader is in her early 20s), corruption kink, size kink, masturbation (m&f), p in v sex (protected), dirty talk, teasing, sexual innuendos, extreme flirting, eddie kinda being a perv, praise kink

The sound of breakfast on the griddle summons you downstairs.

Dad never cooks.

For as long as you can remember, weekends at your dad’s have always consisted of Lucky Charms cereal and powdered donuts. That tradition continued even after you started college.

Oh yeah. Someone is here, alright. Someone Dad desperately wants to impress.

Trailing after the commotion, your fuzzy pink slippers guide you down the wooden steps of your dad’s ‘bachelor pad’ and into the kitchen. And when you near the bottom of the steps, you can make out two distinct voices — one belonging to Dad, another belonging to someone who's identity is obscure.

“God, I fucking missed you, Jeff. Missed everyone so much.”

The smells of pancake batter, cigarette smoke, mint, and petroleum fuel reel you in, but not nearly as much as the sight of the man sitting on the opposite side of your dad. He's built, handsome with wavy brown hair, leather, black denim, twiddling a toothpick between his teeth as he listens to your dad speak with a smile on his face. That is, until you come into sight. It then that his intense focus circles in on you.

Funny. You don’t remember this friend. And something in your gut tells you that you won’t ever be forgetting him after this.

The stranger's grin curls into a wonder-filled smirk. You can feel your knees start to buckle.

“Uh oh. Looks like our shenanigans woke up Sleeping Beauty.”

When you get a closer look at Dad’s friend, you observe his faint brown beard — neatly kept and lightly peppered with some gray — delicious lips, shiny white teeth, and grooves along his laugh lines that would deepen with every theatrical cackle he belted out.

You can't help but freeze in your tracks as him and your dad continue on with their banter, reliving their glory days like it was yesterday. Man. What a damn dreamboat.

Your dad’s eyes light up with glee when he sees you.

“Hey, good morning, Sunshine!” Dad cheers. “Thought you’d never wake up. This is my friend Eddie. We were in that band together in high school. Come say hi.”

"Yeah, come say hi," Eddie agrees. feeding into the obvious tension in the room. "I don't bite."

The stranger laughs at his own comment as soon as he utters it.

There’s a charm — a magic — about Eddie that could only be found in Hollywood or the Big City. But of course, you didn't expect any less from Dad's supposed ‘Rockstar Friend’.

When your parents had you at 17, life went on for Dad’s band Corroded Coffin. And although he missed out on the ‘Sex, Drugs, and Rock&Roll’, Dad insists that tea parties and white picket fences were an ideal trade-off. Because — despite how things ended with Mom — it still meant a life spent with you.

You tell him your name as Eddie offers you his hand to shake. Electricity serges through you when your hand is enveloped by his firm, calloused one. Eddie smiles down at you, his presence all-consuming. It's almost as if he knows it. And as much as you were dying to, you resist the urge to fall into him.

Eddie's no better.

It takes everything in Eddie's power to keep his eyes above your collarbones, reprimanding himself with the utmost tedium. Because heaven knows he'd be TOAST if his best friend found out that Eddie thought that you were absolutely stunning — strutting around the house the way that you do, without a bra underneath that poor excuse of a sleep shirt — a sleep shirt far too tight for your own good. With tight, pajama shorts to match…

Of course, this is all an assumption…Not that he caught wind of it or anything.

“You know…” he mentions. “Your dad has told me SO much about little miss Sunshine.”

“Me, really?” is all you can say behind those fuscia cheeks.

“Really,” Eddie insists. “He never shuts up about you, darling.”

“Hopefully you’ve only heard good things,” you mutter faintly.

And instantly, your dad and Eddie share a laugh.

“Only good things,” Eddie assures you. He nudges your dad playfully.

Your dad doesn’t exactly deny the last part, basically confirming to Eddie that you’ve got a hint of spunk to you. The heat settles at your cheeks as you shy away from your father’s curious friend.

Taking note of how timid you’ve just become, Eddie furrows his brows.

“What — was that an implication that you’re not always good?”

“No comment,” your smile melts into an awkward one.

“Kept me on my toes back then,” your dad reflects with a sigh. “Keeps me on my toes now.”

“You don’t say…” Eddie smirks slightly, gaze panning back over to you.

Eventually your dad leaves you two alone, going into the garage to fetch something that he insists Eddie would like. But little did he know that such thing was already in the room, leaning…reaching into the fridge for some orange juice, not realizing its atmosphere caused your nipples to harden.

Eddie’s eyes proceed to follow you as you strut back to the griddle, flipping some hot cakes over before tending to your messy bedhead.

Eddie probably doesn’t know — or maybe he does, who knows? — that you feel him staring at you. It’s a burning gaze that practically impales you, but you’re too nervous to say anything. You’re better off pretending like it’s something you don’t notice.

You and Eddie continue to help yourselves to breakfast, enjoying the company of each other and your mutual silence. That is, until Eddie speaks up.

“Got some sausage for you if you’d like.”

“I’m sorry?” you sputter, looking up from your food.

Eddie shoots you a weird glance as he holds up some breakfast franks.

“Sausage?” he repeats. “Store was out of beef so I settled for turkey. Hope that’s not a problem.”

“Not at all,” you clear your throat. “I love turkey sausage.”

“Okay, good,” Eddie chuckles, seemingly relieved at how quickly the situation had diffused.

“Cool,” you chuckle with him while taking some links to cook.

The silence returns once more and is replaced by the sizzling of the grill. It’s short lived, however, because soon, the man nearly twice your age speaks again.

“What’d you think I said?” Eddie circles back.

“Nothing, why?”

“You just looked stunned.”

“I just woke up,” you shrug. “My mind’s somewhere else.”

“I can tell,” he smirks. “Get that thing out of the gutter.”

The coming days paved way for some more innocent flirting.

…Like when you make sure to wear the shortest skirt in your closet when running Eddie his afternoon beer in the garage.

“Well don’t you look absolutely darling…” he says as he peers up from his guitar.

“Hehe,” you smirk connivingly. “Thank you!”

“You are so welcome.”

Eddie downs the liquid guilt along with his pride, watching you strut around…the hem of that pleated cotton fabric just barely covering the roundness of your asscheeks. And as you blush a rosy pink when you process his little remarks, Eddie can only clear his throat in arousal, fantasizing about just how badly he wanted to turn your other cheeks that very shade.

…Or when you come downstairs the next day to help Dad manually wash his car.

While he and Eddie are harassing each other with soap and that god-forsaken hose, you decide to join in on all the fun.

“Watch out, Sunshine,” Eddie forewarns. “You’ve just entered the splash zone!”

And with the intention of cooling you off on a hot summer day like this, Eddie teasingly sprays you with said hose, your white shirt becoming transparent when lathered with water. He could see everything. Your erect nipples. Your perky tits bouncing in the sunlight as you jump around in excitement. How glazed your oil-nnuendo’ed skin looked when glimmering in the sun. All as intended.

“You got me,” you surrender yourself to him. “You got me good, Eddie.”

And when you walk away, Eddie mutters slyly to himself.

“Yes, yes I did.”

…And then there’s dessert after dinner.

Eddie watches as you lick your popsicle, his fingers curling at his thighs in arousal as you retract the wrapper before enclosing your lips around the bright pink dessert. And he swears he’s going to blow his pants when he envisions the melted sugar shooting into your mouth with the swiftest hollowing of your cheeks, the quiet suction noise you make with your pursed lips forcing him to adjust the way he’s sitting.

…The final instance takes the cake.

“What’s your major?”

You’re in the home library grazing some of Dad’s old books and vinyls, talking to Eddie while your father gets ready for the day. Meanwhile, Eddie is perched at your dad’s desk, rolling around in his expensive swivel chair and occasionally doing some spins on it to make you laugh.

“History.”

“Sounds boring.”

“You just haven’t found a topic that interests you,” you point out.

“Mm,” is all Eddie says. “Maybe I will eventually.”

Eddie watches as you waltz around in front of him, following your movements with his eyes as you get onto your tippy-toes in order to grab some books on the top shelf.

“Oh my god!” you yelp.

Your plan to entice him seemingly fails when you graze a book that’s halfway off the shelf. It’s already flying off of its platform, headed straight towards Eddie's lap before you can even stop it.

Eddie catches it before any damage can be done, saving Dad’s old campaign book with the hand furthest from you and snaking the other around your waist to prevent you from sinking any further into him.

Phew. Crisis averted.

Your eyes meet again.

“I’m so sorry, Eddie,” you gasp in embarrassment. “That book has a mind of its own.”

“You’re fine,” Eddie laughs. “Can’t defy the laws of gravity. Sometimes it betrays us.”

You feel yourself burning up a fever. Excusing yourself from the room, you leave Dad’s library and make your way over to the kitchen for a glass of water.

But you’re nearly taken aback when you feel tight, calloused hands wrap around your hips, and like a feather it’s like you’re whisked away into the air, and soon your body is pressed up against the wall.

Slam!

Breathing heavily against each other now — chest to chest, lips so unbearably close you can smell the whiskey — Eddie draws you even closer to him. You both study each other intently. It’s like you’re waiting for the other to say something. Eddie does the honors and speaks first.

“I wasn’t born last night, doll. I was also your age at one point.”

———

To his own despair, Eddie touches himself later that night. Facing your room, he strokes his rock hard cock with his lotioned-up hand, running his thumb across the slit of his head, pretending it’s your tongue giving him a little tease like you did the popsicle.

“Fuuuck,” he grunts quietly. “You like when I fuck your throat, baby? Gonna suck me dry with that pretty little mouth of yours?”

You’re playing make-believe just as much. Because at the same time, in your room, you’re a drooling, pathetic mess, riding your wall-mounted toy to oblivion in your bathroom, legs trembling when the thick, veiny piece of silicone slams into the spongy part of your heat, initiating shock-waves all across your body.

“Eddie,” you find yourself blubbering. “EddieEddieEddieEddie…”

You both know it can’t be like this, but that was the mere thrill of it all. And when you both have overcome your peak, just one mere wall apart, the floodgates of guilt outweighs both your arousals the way it comes pouring in.

So, so wrong. But oh, so right.

You’re anticipating…waiting…aching for Eddie to make the next move.

He doesn’t.

“Going to the store again,” Eddie announces. “Hopefully this time they’ll have beef sausage. Need anything?”

Need you, is what you think. But you end up shaking your head, a part of you disappointed that you and Eddie won’t be able to spend some time alone together.

“No,” there’s defeat in your voice.

“Are you sure?” Eddie questions softly.

“Mhm,” you nod.

“Okay,” he gives you a grin, one in the form of a tight-lipped smile. “I’ll be right back. You be good.”

“Ha-ha,” you roll your eyes.

——

Eddie leaves the door of his room open that night. Just a smidge. You end up following the sound of his TV that he’s placed at a low volume, making out that it’s Seinfeld just by Jerry’s voice and the laugh track.

Your heart skips a beat as Eddie laughs along with the show, shaking his head at a stupid joke. But he shifts his focus immediately onto you when he sees you at the doorway.

“Having some alone time tonight?” you ask him.

“Mmm…not by choice,” he responds. “Tuckered your dad out after dinner doing P90X.”

Eddie follows a crazy workout routine. He says that it helps with his stamina, especially when he does crowd work during his stage performances. Your mind can’t help but wonder what else he may be using it for.

You snort. “Yeah. Dad wasn’t what you’d call an athlete in high school.”

Eddie laughs at that too. Both you and him know that.

He then pats the space on his bed beside him. “Wanna come watch with me?”

Your stomach does a series of cartwheels when you process Eddie’s question. You know what’s bound to happen if you follow through. And it seems Eddie knows it too. Even if there wasn’t any sexual tension between you both already, the concept of it all would rub anyone that way.

But you still follow through with it. Just like Eddie knew you would.

“You comfortable?” Eddie asks you, eyeing you endearingly as you squirm around on the bed.

“Yeah,” you breathe.

“Good…” he replies, voice nearly at a strained whisper now.

You two watch the show in silence for a few minutes, exchanging commentary and pleasantries regarding the show every so often. It’s not too long after Eddie pulls a laugh from you that he starts closing up the space between you both, scooting himself closer…and resting his gruff palm over the base of your knee.

You inhale sharply as he does so. And evident by your refusal to pull away, it’s enough of a green light for Eddie to hike up further.

A soft moan escapes your mouth from the back of your flustered throat, but you bite your lip in restraint.

"I'm sorry," you whisper.

"For what?”

You shrug sheepishly as Eddie continues to graze your thigh. Your breathing falters even more.

“Don’t be scared,” Eddie coos.

“I’m not,” you insist.

“Then what’s stopping you from getting on top of me? Hm?”

He’s in between your legs now, the rough material of his denim jeans riding up your sex, teasing your clit with every calculated rub against it.

“And riding my rock hard cock til those pretty legs give out?” Eddie continues. “I see how you’ve been looking at me, doll. It's all over your face how bad you want it.”

“The bed is squeaky,” you answer honestly. “And that headboard is a lost cause.”

Eddie puts the dirty talk on pause, squirming around to assess the guest bed’s squeak factor. When it checks out, he gives you an understanding nod. You giggle.

Eddie wastes no more time. You watch as he grabs one of the pillows on the bed and wedges it between the wall and headboard. He issues you a sly smile.

“Oldest trick in the book.”

You're back to fooling around shortly after, your aching core burning with lust as you pine for him.

“The boys at school ever touch you this good?” Eddie quips rubbing circles around your puffy, needy folds as you hopelessly cling to him out of pleasure.

“No, Eddie.”

“Didn’t think so.”

He continues to tease, gliding his fingers along your slit before slowly inserting two large digits inside of you.

His calculated pumps into your needy pussy are steady, a pace so agonizingly beautiful that it makes you squeal sweet nothings into the crook of his neck.

"Shh, baby," Eddie hushes you. "Your dad's gonna hear us. Gotta be quiet for me, mkay?"

Your hot, messy, and muffled sounds cease as Eddie soothes your quivering lips with his tender ones.

The wet sounds that ricochet and fill the room in tandem is almost enough to send him over. And Eddie is sure to communicate that… with an abrupt curving of his three thick fingers.

Fuck.

Needing him direly now, you tug helplessly at his pants.

“God, Eddie,” you whimper. “Just fuck me already. Please.”

Eddie laughs at the desperation. He hasn’t ravaged you to his fullest extent yet, and you’re already a pooling mess beside him.

“Well since you said please, sweet girl,” Eddie obliges as he starts to undress himself. “Your wish is my command."

You watch Eddie as reaches over into the bedside drawer for a fresh box of condoms. Looks like the sausage links weren't the only things he went to the store for.

“Oh.”

Eddie chuckles at your observation before shrugging. Can you really blame him? You both knew what was coming.

You watch with absolute lust as Eddie slides the piece of rubber over his long, girthy, throbbing cock. He’s bigger than anyone you’ve ever had before, and the snarky, hooded-eye smile as he watches you fawn reveals to you that he knows exactly how to use it.

"On your stomach, babygirl. Will have you all nice and pounded out just like you wanted.”

You situate yourself in prone and spread your legs for Eddie to line himself up against them. He teases his wrapped cock against the entrance of your pussy, and when his soothing countdown is over, your lips part in disposition as you accommodate his ruinous stretch.

A throaty moan spills out of the both of you the moment Eddie snaps his hips in and out of you. Meanwhile, one of his hands lays tauntingly at your stomach, so the prideful man can feel himself wriggling inside you, glazing his shaft with your slick more and more with every pump into your weak cunt.

"Fuck, Eddie... yes..." you mewl. "R-right there, Eddie, please..."

And then it picks up. You can feel Eddie’s hips practically collapse right onto you, his balls slapping against you as he digs further into your body.

"God damn..." the man sighs in disbelief.

He can only beam down at you in awe. You were taking him so good, pussy swallowing him so nice and tight. And when you nestle your ankles between each other to keep him there in prone, the nearly cries out in pleasure, but refrains because he knows your dad is resting — just a thin wall over.

That still doesn’t stop him from going to town though. Practically seeing stars, the broken record of a mouth that belongs to you chants Eddie’s name like it’s all you know. Eddie attempts to keep you contained, offering you his fingers to suck on as he’s railing you dumb.

And when he fucks you through your climax, Eddie continues with his string of lust-filled praises, satisfied at himself that he was able to make you wet enough to soak the mattress.

“Did so good for me, angel,” he praises you as he sucks at your temple. “Always knew you weren’t all that innocent.”

The griddle comes out again on Eddie’s last day. But this time, for a homestyle southern dinner.

You and Eddie were on mashed potatoes and gravy duty at the stove, an ordeal that only opened doors for lots of innuendos on Eddie’s part. Meanwhile, Dad insisted on making the rest, having taken pride in continuing his Mama’s legacy.

“This is amazing, Daddy,” you rave. “I really missed this. Do you mind passing the salt, please?”

And to your horror, you watch as your father and Eddie automatically extend their arms, bumping into one another in the process en route to getting you the salt.

The gentlemen meet each other’s eyes.

“Ohp!” Eddie exclaims, letting out a slight chuckle. “Sorry.”

You try your hardest not to blush. Eddie kicks you from under the table, and softly he oh-so-seductively he mutters,

“I was just tryna help her out.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #older! eddie munson #older!eddie #older!eddie munson smut #older!eddie smut #dad’s best friend!eddie #dad’s best friend!eddie munson #dom!eddie #dom!eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie x reader #eddie munson x reader smut

[slutforsnow]

*evil laugh*

imagine president!coryo with a bratty!reader. Coryo hates when people talk back to him or tell him what to do.

Since he's president, nobody tells HIM what to do. expect reader🙈

"don't talk to me like that."

"aw, did i make you mad? didn't know the president was a little cry baby."

then he fucks readers brains out <3

Hold Your Tongue

Cw/TW: Coryo is his own warning tbh 💀, spanking, slut shaming? (HE WOULD), inappropriate use of piss, mean!Coryo, president!Coryo

As much as Coryo loves his dear wife, she could be a bratty bitch. Thinking she could run her mouth off to her little friends about how much their sex life had gone down since he became president and now had to attend all these fancy balls, galas, parties, and whatnot. Sure, it was nice to see his wife all dressed up like a doll and looking sexy, but running her mouth off? That was over the line.

That's how the couple landed in this situation. She had begun to run her pretty little mouth again, and one of her friends had said something along the lines of divorce.

The second the young president of Panem had ensured all the guests had left, he had bound his wife to their shared bed by her wrists, using the special handcuffs he had made for them; engraved with his last name to make sure she understood her punishment. She was also stripped of her dress and lingerie she had worn underneath it.

"I cannot believe you would allow your friends to say something so stupid," He began, slowly unbuttoning his red corset-vest. "Of all the things you had to let slide, it was a topic of divorce?"

"What's so bad about it? She was joking and drunk, I doubt she'll remember it, Coryo," She retorted, pouting a little and tugging wrists forward to try and free herself. Coryo had a tendency go purposely leave the cuffs loose enough for her so she could claw at his back, leaving red marks and little crescent moons from her nails. This time, however, the cuffs were tight enough to where she could barely wiggle her wrists. "Now, loosen the cuffs, I wanna get my makeup off!"

He didn't take lightly to her demanding tone. "Don't talk to me like that," He spat, dropping his vest on the floor, which was soon followed by his dress shirt.

"Awh, did I make you mad? I didn't know the president was a-" She was cut off by a sharp THAWCK against her skin.

Tears pricked her eyes, and she tried to blink them away. She knew Coryo was pissed, but to spank her with his belt on her thigh?

"I told you not to speak to me like that. Now look at you; crying like a little whore because I punished you like one. Don't you dare cry because there's going to be a lot more where that came from," He threatened, glaring down at her. Before she could think, Coryo raised his arm again and another thwack echoed in their bedroom.

"Now, I think we need to revisit a certain setting," He added, tossing his belt to the side and kicking his dress pants to the side, along with his black boxers.

"Wha- huh-" She questioned, semi-dazed from getting spanked only twice. Whatever strength ran through his veins really knocked the wind out of her and replaced it with dopamine.

"Don't play dumb," He chided, slamming his leaking member into her tight cunt causing her to let out a loud cry of pleasure. He continued his harsh pace while pinching and twisting her hard nipples as he marked her neck and collarbone with hickies.

All she could do while he overstimulated her body was moan, mewl, and scream his name. He was fucking the brattiness out of her, reducing her into a brainless whore, but did he care? No, he didn't care. She was going to learn one way or another.

Feeling her walls squeeze and grip on his cock, he smirked, pounding faster into her, pressing a hand to her lower abdomen. Something felt off about it this time; he could feel the bulge, which was normal, but it happened.

As Coryo was fucking his wife's brains out, she pissed while she came and he stopped his ruthless fucking. As y/n was coming down from her sex high, babbling utter nonsense, Coryo watched piss and cum leak from her folds leak onto the bed.

It was... entertaining.

Smirking to himself, he decided to continue fucking himself balls deep into her cunt, which resulted in more cries of pleasure, well more of pain this time, as he fucked y/n harder than ever before. He had to watch it again, no matter how many times it took.

Tags: @etfrin @hearts4court @snows-wife @delusionalbunni @kiraflowersworld @victory-scream0462 @curled-hair-red-lips @morallygrayboys @phoward89 @xoxo-eyeballs @thereeallink @graciouslyc @acidaciruela @wanda-maximoff-enthusiast @firstworldproblemthings

#coryo x reader smut #coryo smut #coryo x reader #coryolanus snow #coryo snow #coriolanus snow fanfic #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coriolanus imagine #coriolanus smut #coriolanus fanfiction #coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow smut #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x you #the hunger games fanfiction #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #the ballad of songbirds and snakes fanfiction #the hunger games #thg tbosas #thg fanfiction #thg series #tbosas x reader #tbosas memes #tbsosas #tbosbas #tbosas

[reiderwriter]

Hey lovely! Hope you’re doing good! I was listening to bad idea right? By Olivia Rodrigo and thought it would be a good idea for a Spencer fic, was thinking something something with a little angst, smut and possibly a fluffy ending! ♥️

Ps love your writing 🖤

A/N: Most relatable song released this year, if we're being totally honest with ourselves, right 💀 I hope you enjoy this!

Warnings: (Munch Spencer Truthers, I'm throwing yourself another bone here), Oral (f receiving), fingering, masturbation (male), slight hand job at the end, penetrative sex, cum play, etc. Minors DNI 18+

Your fling with Spencer Reid from the BAU ended abruptly when he fell off the face of the earth.

You weren't sure how someone who had described himself as technophobic had managed to perfect the art of ghosting someone, but boy had he, and you were still a little bit angry about it.

Even angrier when you saw him plastered over the local news out on a case, explaining to the people how fake tips to the FBI hindered cases more than helped them.

You were angry because he looked so good. His hair was shorter, displaying his all too pretty features prominently, and pissing you off to no end as you still felt your heart beat out of your chest until he'd disappeared into a crime scene again.

You brushed it off and berated yourself until the text came.

It wasn't much, just a quick hello, but you waited for a few minutes anyway to see if he'd say anything else.

When he didn't, you grew frustrated and text him a response.

“Who is this?”

It was petty, but four months of radio silence deserved less, in all honesty.

You weren't expecting the phone to vibrate out of your hand as you waited for a response, but it lit up with his call and you scrambled to wait enough time to pick it up.

“Hello.”

“Hi. It's Spencer. Spencer Reid. Doctor Spencer Reid, from the Behavioural Analysis Unit, this is Y/N right?”

“Yes, Spencer, it's me. My number didn't change after four months.”

“Okay, that was deserved.”

“Why are you calling Spencer?”

“Because I'm a burnt out child prodigy who didn't cure schizophrenia by age 25 and my friends missed my birthday. And because I really wanted to see you.”

The line went quiet as you contemplated what the hell you would say to that.

“It would be stupid to ask if you remembered my address, right?”

“Y/N, I remember what you taste like, and I'll never forget it.”

“Good. I'm locking the door in half an hour.” You didn't give him time to respond before exiting the call and running to your bathroom.

Maybe it wasn't the best idea entertaining a fling from months ago on a whim at 7pm on a Wednesday evening, but you had nothing else to be doing with your time.

It wasn't illegal for people to reconnect, and you were not going to mention this to any close or mutual friends of yours, so one conversation (or whatever this was) probably wouldn't have any consequences anyway.

Caution blown to the wind, you replaced your work clothes with a comfortable dress, fixed your hair and poured a glass of wine and waited.

As if on queue, 27 minutes later, Spencer was at your door. Or more accurately in your house.

Your threat to lock the doors had obviously spurred him on, and you heard the door handle twist as he stepped into the space.

“Spencer. How lovely, to what do I owe the honor?”

The adrenaline of making sure the door was unlocked had obviously worn off for him, as you saw him shift awkwardly in the doorway of your living room, sat comfortably on your couch, your skirt just riding high enough to distract.

“I was thinking. Well, I suppose the correct term would be overthinking. Emily had to snap me out of it, because I was kicking myself and doubting myself and worrying so much that we almost lost the unsub…”

“What I’m trying to say is I’ve regretted not doing too many things to think coming to beg you to kiss me again is a bad idea. It’s not a bad idea, right?”

“That depends, Spencer.” You replied, setting your glass of wine down and standing up. You took a wobbly step towards him, eager to blame your hesitancy on the wine rather than the things his gaze, his words and his simple presence was doing to your body.

“On if you only want a kiss.” Your hand gingerly slipped up his chest until it was hooked into his hair, exploring the shorter locks as he grabbed you by the waist.

“Or if you aren't satisfied with just that.”

“I can't seem to come up with an answer. Perhaps you should kiss me and it'll jog my memory.”

You finally cracked a smile, and saw his face instantly bloom into ot as well.

“Nu-uh Spencer. I think you have to take that chance this time.”

He hesitated only a second before his hands were cradling your face, tipping your chin up to him as he bent to kiss you. You immediately responded, letting your hands grab fistfuls of his shirt as you pulled each other closer.

It sent you off balance, but you let yourself follow the motion of you tipping backwards, letting him catch you as you began moving in the direction of your bed.

“Not a bad idea,” he mumbled between deep kisses, letting loose a stray moan when your hands trailed down to his belt and below. “Definitely not a bad idea.”

Somehow in the clash of lips and hands, you managed to make it back to your bed, his hands already managing to find themselves under your dress as his lips diverted your attention.

“Four months, Spencer.” You growled the words into his mouth as your tongues battled for dominance. “Four months without this. I thought I'd go insane.”

You felt him smile as he lifted you, and grinned too as you wrapped your legs around him just as he began climbing onto the bed, softly lowering you down until he was on top of you.

His tongue travelled down your neck, making his way back up towards your ear.

“I did go a bit insane, you know?”

His hands flipped up your skirt as he ground his dick against your crotch, pushing it up further until the bottoms of your breasts were peaking out of the scraps of material as well.

“Let me make it up to you?” It was phrased like a question he didn't care about the answer to, as he pushed off of you and completely rid your body of the material that was hindering it completely.

“That's better.” You swore you heard a sigh of contentment as he held your thighs apart and lowered his head, one kiss at a time, to your neglected pussy.

He hooked a ginger under your panties, and pushed them off to the side, but he'd never been the most patient, and he'd already spread your legs. He'd just work around the impediment, you knew.

And he did, starting with a casual flick of the tongue as he looked up at you from his place at your cunt, smiling at you as he began to feast.

You'd never thought of yourself as a pillow princess before Spencer, enjoying giving love as much as receiving but he gave you the perfect royal treatment, and enjoying it so much it was impossible to deny.

After getting so spoiled, it was a wonder that you even knew how to adapt to life without him, nothing compared to the care and attention he showed you in bed.

Your thoughts blended together as he pressed a finger into you, already sneaked with his spit and your wetness, collected from between his lips and your soaked cunt. His pace was steady, repetitive, and driving you fucking insane.

Never a demanding lover, before you would have simply let him enjoy his time between your legs, enjoying just how much he enjoyed it himself as he lapped up all of your juices.

But four months clean from your addiction to Spencer Reid and you were snapping.

Your hands gripped at his hair, pressing his face further into your cunt than he'd been before, enjoying the muffled moans and the sound of his tongue generously lapping up all you had to offer.

You started humping his mouth, holding his head still as you used him as a tool to get yourself off, finally cumming on his mouth with a shudder and an unfiltered moan.

It would've been embarrassing if it wa anyone else, just how loud you'd been for your ex-boyfriend.

“You taste the same.” He said, wiping the remainders of your cum from his lips as he stroked himself, having loosed his cock from his pants sometime between you moaning like a wanton whore and using his face as a sex toy.

A single glance at him over you pleasuring himself was enough to get you ready for round two.

He had sat up on his knees, head and torso tilted slightly back to give you a better view of his cock being pumped hard and fast.

“Spencer Reid, don't you dare make yourself cum.” You thought the words were joking, light even but even you were shocked by the sheer lust dripping from your throat.

Wrapping your legs around him again, you pulled yourself up into his lap, holding yourself still as you quickly unfastened each of his shirt buttons, pushing it away and chucking it so far that he wouldn't be able to use it to cover up anything else.

It took you a minute more to properly situate yourself, but soon you were sinking down onto his cock and allowing the stretch to rule your mind and movements for a minute.

You gently started riding him, letting each gasp and moan reach your ears and spur you on, not holding back on your side either, telling him just how good it felt to have him in you raw once again.

Your stamina wasn't great though especially after having had one powerful orgasm already, and your movements soon became sloppy.

He kissed you softly on the lips, and you let go of the tension in your body as he pushed you onto your back, made sure you were comfortable, and started beating his cock into you with such a force that you were sure the bed was going to break.

It was this intensity that you craved, this complete change from his insistence on putting you first so to speak, and then using you as a human sexton when it suited him, allowing his cock to push you to your limits and beyond.

It wasn't like you could protest anyway, mouth hanging limply open in a scream of pleasure as sparks shot up your spine.

Entertaining Spencer Reid was never a bad idea. You decided then and there that if he left you again for whatever reason, you'd hunt him to the ends of the earth and beg for another chance at this feeling of pleasure.

You came again, of course, not sure if it was his cock or his exploring hands that was tethering you to the moment as you died a little death.

His own orgasm wasn't far behind your own, but he'd always been a bit messy. You weren't surprised when he gave a small panicked moan, pulling out at the last second as his cum spurted out. You helped him ride it out, wrapping a hand around him to stroke him until his dick was drained, the contents sprayed across your chest and breasts, a single drop even making it to the side of your mouth, but that was quickly lapped up.

His aftercare was almost as good as his foreplay, as he took pains to wash you diligently, even as all you wished to do was sleep well into the night directly after feeling his hot cum pour onto you.

He'd gathered a wash cloth, fresh set of pyjamas and an extra blanket to cocoon you both in before you could even lift a finger, and climbed into bed before you could even think of asking if he was staying the night.

With the satisfaction of multiple orgasms finally catching you, you fell asleep in his arms, a grin plastered on your lips, his hands possessively surrounding you.

Needless to say, when you woke in the morning, he was still there.

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #mgg #spencer reid smut #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid criminal minds #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n

[annabelle--cane]

it's fascinating to me the way that different social media platforms result in different types of fandom behavior. while s5 of tma was airing, I spent a good amount of time on tma tiktok (I log back in about once every two months now, going back to in-person school after a year a half of lockdown seem to re-blanace my brain and made me once again not really enjoy the format) while still using tumblr as my main socmed, and while there was a lot of overlap in the fan culture, some things were notably different.

tumblr tma fans had near-encyclopedic knowledge of the source material, but it was kind of an ongoing joke for tiktok tma fans that everyone binged the whole show in a week-long fugue state and lost memory of about 35% of it. tumblr has virtually no character limit and allows posts to be passed around by users indefinitely, which lends itself to fairly in-depth meta analysis being made and shared until most any fan could say "the time and space discrepancies at hill top road? psh yeah, I know all about them, I've read seven scrupulously cited posts that lay out all the details." for the entire time that s5 was airing, tiktok videos could still only be a minute long, and I know from a lot of personal effort that there's only so much you can fit into a one minute script that you also have to memorize and record (and cc manually with tiktok text stickers, as they didn't add the caption feature until april 2021) if you want the process to take less than four hours of your one mortal human life. and then you only see the video if your following or fyp algorithm shows it to you. there were a few tma meta-ish videos that got popular because other people would make their own videos referencing them and tag the account so their followers could see what they were talking about, but it's much harder to circulate content you like there. several times I saw people post videos saying "I got into cosplay to film some [agnes or annabelle or gerry or another secondary character] and I just realized I have no idea what their deal actually is 💀".

a thing that tiktok tma fandom was definitely better at than tumblr tma fandom was accurately remembering certain pieces of characterization and the flow of certain scenes. I've seen a bunch of posts on here where someone is trying to argue a point with excerpts from the text ("x character is nicer than you all give them credit for" "x character is so mean to y character in this scene" "z theory can't be true because y character said a line that disproves it") where the argument only holds up because the poster has gotten these excerpts from a transcript dive and hasn't listened to the episodes they're from recently, because while the text alone can be construed to mean one thing, the way it's delivered on-podcast clearly intends another. tiktok, being an audio and video based medium, allows audio clips to be shared around a lot, and cosplayers would often all make videos acting along to the same show clips of juicy interpersonal drama, and so tiktok fans, though they may have had less overall memory of what characters said, always had a better grasp on how they said it. an average tiktok tma fan might not have remembered melanie's subplot about war ghosts, but they would know the nuances of how the way she talks to jon changes between mag 28 and mag 155.

#prompted by Absolutely nothing #tma #marina marvels at life

[leviscolwill]

i can see you

pairing: ben chilwell x fem!reader

summary: after you lost your hotel room key you're forced to ask your friend ben to share his bed with you (wc: 1k)

contents: fluff, coworkers au / workplace romance, idiots crushing on each other, one use of y/n sorry 🏃‍♀️

notes: please be indulgent w this,, i haven't written in 2 years so i'm a bit rusty. also english is not my first language so my apologies for any grammar mistakes that will make you want to gouge your eyes out. reblogs & feedback are very veryyyyy appreciated as always <3

ps: i tried sum with the dividers tell me if they're ugly asf and i'll delete bc idk how to feel abt them 💀

now playing: i can see you by taylor swift (speak now)

"are you sure you don't mind me staying here tonight ?" you didn't want to force ben into sharing his room, but as soon as you noticed your hotel room card was gone, he offered his room for the night.

"i wouldn't offer if i did."

he had a point. not that you would ever say it out loud, so you simply kept silent. truth be told, today was exhausting, you had to run left and right while every player fulfilled their media duties, and everything felt 10 times more intense in the heat of the summer.

you still felt anxious at the idea of sharing a bed with ben. the line between 'coworkers-that-get-along-well' and 'something more' blurred a little bit too much whenever you were with ben. you'd find yourself looking at him a little bit more than you'd look at other players and thinking about him in a way a friend shouldn't, let alone someone who works for his team should.

"i can practically hear your thoughts you know ?" ben chuckled, he got to know you well throughout the last two seasons you worked at chelsea, well enough to feel you hesitating over the proposal.

"i can sleep on the floor if that makes you more comfortable."

"i'm not making you sleep on the floor when i'm the one who lost my card in the first place" you sighed. you were both adults that could share a bed and not make it weird, right ?

"do you have any spare shirt i could borrow ?" after ben searched through his baggage that seemed untouched since touchdown, he handed you a t-shirt and some shorts.

you made your way to his bathroom after muttering a quick 'thank you'.

you came out of his bathroom battling against his shorts that were still too big even after adjusting them, ben couldn't hide his smile when you walked out in his clothes. he'd imagined you in his shirt more times than he'd like to admit.

"i'll get ready for bed, make yourself comfortable." he said pointing at his bed. thankfully it was more than enough for two people, actually, his bed was probably bigger than yours, perks of being a football player probably.

after staying on your phone to distract yourself from the fact you were sharing a bed with your crush, a very shirtless ben came out of the bathroom and laid on his side of the bed. the only thing that you could do now was hoping for the red on your cheeks to fade as quickly as humanly possible.

to you, it was obvious, he was not nearly as nervous or embarrassed as you were, it almost seemed like he'd done this a million times before. he was laying casually on his phone while you stayed close to the end of the bed, so close you were afraid you might fall at any moment.

but if you could read his mind, you'd find out ben was torn between overthinking about how he better not mess it up, and thinking about who he would tell first that he slept in the same bed as the pretty girl from work he kept rambling about.

"goodnight ben." you said in an almost whisper.

"goodnight y/n" he answered while he tried his best to fall asleep, although all he could think about was how lucky he was.

when you woke up in the morning, you were confused about the unfamiliar setting for the first few seconds but quickly remembered the events of last night. you don't even know what awakened you. was it the sun peeking through the curtains ? the light snoring you could hear coming from above your head ? or the heat of the body laying right next to you ? then you silently panicked sensing how close you were to ben, his head resting on top of your hair, his features soft as he was still asleep.

but you took the time to fully appreciate the moment that was definitely too intimate for two coworkers, or even two friends. listening to ben's heartbeat and tracing his features after freeing yourself from one of his arms that kept you close to him.

after a few minutes he opened his eyes, and stretched, while pulling you right next to him.

"slept well ?" he asked with a tired smile on his face, while his fingers traced up and down your bare arm.

you almost wanted to tell him that you had the best sleep of your life, in hopes that he'll keep you this close for longer, but chose against it.

"yes, slept well, maybe i would've slept even better if you didn't snore this loud"

he faked a offended expression and attacked you with his pillow, messing your hair even more.

"no, no, no, i'm sorry, please stop, i didn't mean that." you tried to plead out of breath.

ben was feeling merciful, he helped you seat up on his bed and you spent about half an hour talking about everything and nothing at the same time.

"i better go to the reception to get a new card." you said while ben watched you collect your clothes with a lovesick smile attached to his face.

"let me know if you lose your new card, i'll gladly share my bed with you again."

with that, you closed ben's door with one last look at him, his messy hair and his (very) unmade bed, smiling to yourself for the rest of the morning.

#phew #coworker ben is the superior trope i fear #ben chilwell #ben chilwell x reader #ben chilwell imagine #ben chilwell fluff #ben chilwell x y/n #ben chilwell x you #ben chilwell blurb #ben chilwell one shot #football blurb #football drabble #football one shot #football x reader #football x you #football imagine #football x y/n

[bedoballoons]

just came here to say that I love the way you write lyney, that guy is fighting heizou for the 👑 of 'king of rizz' 🗿🌺 so pls, could you do a lyney x reader (He has a crush on the reader but still has to confess) where the reader has a friend who constantly flirts with them the same way lyney does, so when they meet each other it just turns into a rap battle between them of who has the best pick up lines, but the reader it's just so oblivious that doesn't understand what's going on 💀 idk it just came to my mind and I found it funny

the reader can be any gender and happy ending for poor boy lyney

SPOILER OF THE ARCHON QUEST 4.1!!!

after seeing all the stress he went through with Lynette and Freminet in the Fortress of Meropide and by the Wolverine man who's name i don't remember atm I just want something funny idk I was sad through all the quest by how bad things where going, especially for him. Give my man a break 🗿🌺

Thank you!! I have been waiting to write this cause it sounds so funny, love a good rizz battle!! I hope you enjoy and don't worry, I'll make sure Lyney gets a happy ending with the reader!

─⊰⁠⊹ฺ🎃𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤⊰⁠⊹ฺ🎃

{༻~Rizz it up~༺}

CW: Gn reader who's a little dense, flirting battles, very slight jealousy on Lyneys part, confessions and fluff at the end! Lyney calls the reader mon amour!

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

𑁍༄Lyney:

Lyney winked at you, a small smirk playing on his lips as he held out a rainbow rose between his fingers, trying desperately to catch your attention, but...alas he wasn't the only one. On the other side of you was a friend of yours, gently taking your hand in his and spinning you away from the magician, while you looked at him like he might actually be crazy.

"What's...going on with you two?"

Lyney chuckled nervously, scratching the back of his neck after he shot a quick glare in your friends directions, "Nothing mon amour,... just having a little fun is all. I must say though, it's quite hard for me to concentrate with you around, your beauty is simply overwhelming my ability to pay attention to anything else. Tell me, how does someone come to look like a angel?~"

You raised a eyebrow at his question, not really knowing how to answer until you were pulled away from the conversation by your friend who softly touched your cheek, "Please magician boy, even angels can't compare to you, they'd weep in the mirrors if they even caught sight of your goregous smile~" You were only growing more confused with each sentence and the constant switching of who you were suddenly near was starting to make you dizzy, "Okay maybe we-"

"Oh mon amour, you're smile isn't the only goregous thing though. Personally your laugh is one of my favourite things about you, the sweet sound of it could cure a rainy day in seconds and your eyes, when I look into them I swear I can see the stars.~" Lyney interrupted you, sneaking his arm around your waist and dipping you almost to the ground, face mere inches away from yours, "L-Lyney?"

His heart skipped a beat when he realized the position he had gotten himself into, your perfect body in his arms and your lips so close to his he could almost feel them, if he didn't confess now he'd never find a more perfect moment again. "....may I kiss you?" The question caught you by surprise, your cheeks going red as you stared up at him, was that what this was all about? Had he planned it just so he could tell you his feelings?

In reality it wasn't planned in the slightest, but the thought of such a romantic gesture and the way butterflies gathered in your stomach from the way he was holding you, the answer was simply, "You may.." With your permission he closed the gap, giving you a loving kiss that pulled the two of you even closer together, both of you melting into it so naturally.

Meanwhile your friend had walked away, considered their job well done and silently wishing you two the best.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

◥(•̀￦•́)◤☪︎ ִ ࣪𖤐 ☾𖤓~Have a nice day~*⁠.⁠✧

#genshin impact #genshin headcanons #genshin fanfic #genshin #genshin imagines #genshin x reader #genshin scenarios #genshin x you #genshin fluff #lyney x reader #lyney x you #lyney genshin #lyney headcanons #lyney fluff

[lovelytayforce]

Alright, KFP fandom, we gotta talk about "Discrimination" 🎉

Cause, not even to be mean, y'all kinda dumb. Y'all sound like the type of person to tell me "No racism exists in the North" and lemme tell ya as someone from the North, there is but it's DIFFERENT. And before you ask, Yes this is about The Chameleon (who will be called Cammy cause I am lazy and deserve to be paid for this shit.) and the fandoms massive misunderstanding of her single line about being denied access to Kung Fu because she's "little". And I see your lil fingers tapping away to howl about "MASTER MANTIS" and some LOA rejects. And remember that earlier example I brought up about discrimination existing in the north but its just different from the South? Yeah, its the same thing. Some people can get past that challenge but some of us aren't that lucky and you all forget about my MAIN MAN, THE GOAT, Crane!!!

Yeah, the brother whose almost as tall as Tigress, yeah he was discriminated against for his skinny frame and detered from trying out and I think it's funny y'all leave my boy out but that doesn't fit your little gotcha, now does it?

but that's okay, that's why you have me, to be your funny and slightly cute know it all~💕 Back to the topic at hand, this conversation also leaves out how Po wanted Shifu to change him, after all the verbal abuse that lil man hurled at him. This is where that line "We're not so different, you and I." comes to shine. Cammy didn't have an event such as Oogway's death to shake those Master's to their core to train her. No, they were probably just proud teachers who denied all those beneath them, which is not uncommon, you can see this in a lot of Kung fu flicks, keeping certain arts from certain territories close and always wanting to prove whose kung fu is superior. Again, NORMIES GO WATCH IP MAN! Go watch peak cinema!!!! It's on YOUTUBE FOR FREE: https://youtu.be/zGD9OFmxYXM?si=XL-aetJOnCSftIP_

Anyways, I hope this enlightened you all a bit so we can stop this very shallow puddle of an argument against her words cause you sound ignorant doing that considering all the discrimination present in the series as it is, especially Tigress. Whoo, that needs its own post! That's next level of discrimination upon a child. 💀 Anyways, stop forgetting about Crane!!!!

#kung fu panda #master crane #the chameleon #taylor talks #im sorry but yall do sound ignorant going oh but what about #bruh thats like saying why MJ reach the top and I haven't #well I cant dance for one but ssshhh #you get my point #different people different experiences #thinking is good guys I promise

[081314]

Twisted Wonderland - Magic3 Battle Quotes

The latest update to the JP server brought a third level of magic for SSR cards, and new battle quotes along with it. Following is my translation of the new lines.

These are sorted in order of dorm, and then alphabetically by character name.

Heartslabyul

Ace Trappola

♥️: I bet you underestimated me, huh?

♥️: Sorry, but this is game over!

♥️: Okay, now this is Ace Trappola’s one-man show!

♥️: A totally legit, no swindles involved win! And I didn't even lose a single set.

Cater Diamond

♦️: Shall I show you my cool side?

♦️: Try not to overdo it, okay?

♦️: Don't hurt yourself!

♦️: Oh, sweet!

Deuce Spade

♠️: Let’s let our fists do the talking!

♠️: You think I was born yesterday or something?

♠️: Oi, quit being a chicken shit!

♠️: No way can I let ‘em see me look bad.

Riddle Rosehearts

🌹: Are you ready?

🌹: You've angered me.

🌹: I'll let you hear my verdict.

🌹: Do you honestly think you can go up against me?

Trey Clover

🍀: We'll paint all the roses red.

🍀: This is why I told you....!

🍀: Could you please not bother me?

🍀: Did I go easy enough on you?

Savanaclaw

Jack Howl

🐺: You ain’t going anywhere.

🐺: My fangs are sharp.

🐺: You’re about to realize… just how strong I really am!

🐺: Remember my name!

Leona Kingscholar

🦁: I do what I want.

🦁: Enough already.

🦁: You better not turn your back on me.

🦁: You wanna be hunted down?

Ruggie Bucchi

🍩: I’m gonna take you out with the trash.

🍩: I’ll make a sandwich outta ya.

🍩: I’ll flip you like a pancake.

🍩: Shishishi… And that's the end of that.

Octavinelle

Azul Ashengrotto

🐙: I'll be collecting your payment now.

🐙: Come now, what are you going to do?

🐙: It's time for you to say "Goodbye".

🐙: In short, talking won't do us any good here.

Floyd Leech

🦈: Here, how 'bout this? Ahahahha.

🦈: I’m gonna wring you like a towel!

🦈: Aww, don't be scared.

🦈: C’mon, let's see some tears in those eyes. Ahahaha.

Jade Leech

🐬:  It appears you need to be chastised.

🐬:  Even though I was so kind as to give you some advice…

🐬:  Don’t be afraid. Heh heh.

🐬: *Dissolve into the foam of the sea!

Scarabia

Jamil Viper

🐍: It's a difference in skill.

🐍: Disappear to the ends of the earth!

🐍: Don't you dare get up again!

🐍: I'll take away everything from you!

Kalim Al Asim

☀️: This is a party, so dance!

☀️: Party's over!

☀️: This is the real deal!

☀️: I'll make ya dance for me!

Pomefiore

Epel Felmier

🍎: Everything will freeze over.

🍎: If you underestimate me, you’re gonna end up hurtin’!

🍎: Don’t judge me just based off how I look.

🍎: Sleep forever.

Rook Hunt

🏹: I’d love to hear what you thought.

🏹: Adieu, Monsieur!

🏹: Love’s bow and arrow.

🏹: Oh, may your final moments be beautiful!

Vil Schoenheit

👑:  Come on. **Charm me!

👑:  It’s a shame we have to say farewell.

👑:  This is…. My strength!

👑:  That’s a wrap.

Ignihyde

Idia Shroud

💀: It's finally time for the main event.

💀: We're only at halftime, dude.

💀: You wanna take it to Sudden Death?

💀: I really just wanna be alone right now...

Ortho Shroud

🤖: Energy cannon, firing all rounds.

🤖: The target will be eliminated.

🤖: Magical cannon, maximum output.

🤖: The obstruction will be destroyed.

Diasomnia

Lilia Vanrouge

🦇: I'll give you a good scolding.

🦇: Your little jokes have gone far enough, kid.

🦇: I won't overlook a single chink in your armor.

🦇: Let's get you off to bed now.

Malleus Draconia

🐲: You fool!

🐲: Bow down before me!

🐲: Did you really think you could win?

🐲: Behold the power of a king!

Sebek Zigvolt

⚡: I'll drag you in.

⚡: Had you intended to ensnare me with that?

⚡: I'm faster than light!

⚡: Stronger than a lightning strike!

Silver

⚔️: Sleep deeply.

⚔️: I'll send you off to sleep now.

⚔️: I have something I want to protect.

⚔️: I won't make you suffer.

TL Notes

*this one seems to be a reference to Hans Christian Andersen's "The Little Mermaid". the mermaid princess turns into seafoam and dies at the end, and jade's phrasing seems to mirror how its written in the jp version of the story. i took this line from the eng version of the story.

**he's saying either "charm me" or "show me". the words are pronounced the same and idk if there's in-game text that accompanies their lines, so take this one with a grain of salt pls.

#twisted wonderland #twst #riddle rosehearts #deuce spade #trey clover #ace trappola #cater diamond #jack howl #ruggie bucchi #leona kingscholar #azul ashengrotto #jade leech #floyd leech #kalim al asim #jamil viper #epel felmier #vil schoenheit #rook hunt #idia shroud #ortho shroud #malleus draconia #lilia vanrouge #twst silver #sebek zigvolt #silver

[twstbookclub]

Inked Blossoms

Summary: Jamil didn't think much of you when he received a flower basket. You were his new neighbor running a flower shop—nothing more, nothing less. So, why can't he stop coming by after visiting you once? POV: 2nd Person Pronouns: Gender-neutral Admin/Writer: Cressa🦋 Tags: Tattoo Artist x Florist AU, Tattoo Artist!Jamil, Florist!Reader, Fluff, Romance, Angst, No happy ending, sorry folks, Mentions of Blood and Self-harm, Use of Flower Language, Jamil's POV Word Count: 4, 025 Main Reference for Flower Meanings: Boeckmann, C. (2023, November 17). What does each flower symbolize? The Old Farmer's Almanac.

And I thought the Riddle fic I wrote is my longest one 💀 I actually had this plot in mind in the same month as I thought of the Riddle fic, which was back in April of last year. I only put in one link here, but I fact-checked every flower I used in this fic with other sources. Admittedly, when I wrote this, I received some heartbreaking news that morning and I cried my eyes out. I may or may not have projected those feelings into this and incorporated my previous experiences here. To all the Jamil stans, I'm so sorry that my first fic of this guy is long and angsty. I hope you all enjoy, though 💕

Jamil stared at the flowers on his parlor’s doorstep. Pink peonies and coral roses filled the twine basket, along with a purple flower that he didn’t know the name of. The arrangement emphasized the purple flowers, while there were a few peonies mixed in with the roses. What piqued Jamil’s curiosity were the leaves that lined the edges of the basket. He squinted, subconsciously leaning down to peer at the blooms at his feet.

“... Is that basil?” He mumbled, confused about the inclusion of a familiar herb. It was something he often used in his cooking, particularly when he was roommates with Kalim back in high school. That boy’s palate was too refined for anything bland and ready-made, so Jamil always had to cook with spices and herbs. It came to the point that the smell stuck to his clothes, even after a thorough wash in the laundry. Not just his clothes—even his hair. He already had a meticulous process with his hair care and bejeweled braids, so it was a nuisance.

He shook his head, before he took the flower basket in his hands. The blooms jostled a little, and a gentle hand pushed a peony back in place. Something nagged at Jamil to look to the left, for some reason. When he turned his head, the sign of the shop next door caught his attention.

“A flower shop, huh.” That was new. Jamil vaguely remembered this lot being sold recently, but he never thought it’d be turned into a store like that. It used to be an antique store owned by an elderly woman. She minded her own business, despite the weird and judgmental looks he received for the henna tattoos that decorated Jamil’s tan hands and arms.

Jamil’s eyes darted from the cursive letters of the sign to the flowers and plants displayed behind the glass walls. The name of the shop was painted on one of the walls in gold—above some of the artful arrangements of red roses, white carnations, and calla lilies. There was a shift of color behind them, and he narrowed his eyes again for a better look.

Someone was tending to the flowers. He could vaguely make out the color of their hair and the verdant apron over a white polo shirt. With the large bouquets in the way, Jamil couldn’t see a face. Sighing and shaking his head, he walked into his tattoo parlor with the flower basket in his arms.

If all his time in the city taught him anything, it was that nothing in this world was free.

Still, Jamil couldn’t help but wonder what the purple flowers were. They reminded him of tulips, but the petals were thinner and pointed at the tips. The stamen was visible, too. It was a stark contrast to the blooming tulips he knew: blunt-tipped and oval petals without the stamen being visible. He made a mental note to search about them once he went home.

Jamil found out that the purple blooms were called crocuses, and he wound up finding a website detailing the meanings of every flower imaginable. The flowers replaced the lamp that used to be on the table next to his bed. Every morning, he’d wake up to the colorful arrangement in a vase with his mind stuck on the meaning of each flower.

Maybe he should see what the florist was like. If they were like the antique shop owner from before, then Jamil would just remain polite and ignore them whenever he could.

On a slow and quiet day in the parlor, Jamil flipped the sign and locked the door. He shoved the key in his pocket, while his eyes drifted to the flower displays and bouquets through the glass walls. A blur of white and green moved behind them, but he still couldn’t put a face to the florist.

Jamil would have to see if he was curious enough to put a name to that face, too.

A chime echoed in the store once he stepped inside, and an onslaught of fragrance hit him. He noted that it wasn’t as powerful as the smell of spices, ones that he can taste from the scent alone. Still, it was strong enough to leave him a little lightheaded.

“Ah, welcome!” A voice rang through the back, behind an open door that led to what Jamil assumed was a small greenhouse. Sacks of fertilizer and clay pots filled with flowers peeked out of the metal shelves. The sight was obscured by a green apron, stitched with the same cursive letters of the store sign.

Charcoal gray eyes met lively, cheerful ones. The gloved hands that gripped the door frame were smeared with soil, maybe even fertilizer. Dirt smudged your cheek, but his gaze drifted to your lips. Your smile—too bright to be natural—was difficult to look away from. Something churned in his chest the longer he looked at it.

“Oh,” you mumbled, which made Jamil look back into your eyes again, “you’re my next-door neighbor. Hi! I hope you like the flowers. I’m, uh…”

A sheepish chuckle left your lips, making Jamil’s heart lurch. He resisted the urge to scowl at the feeling. He just met you, and he’d rather not make a bad impression. The tattoo artist came to your store to meet you like a proper neighbor, not to antagonize you.

“I came by to say hi, and you weren’t there. I had to get the shop ready and all, so I decided to leave the basket and hope that it stays there—” You sighed, took off one of your gloves, and ran a hand through your hair— “and I’m rambling. Sorry about that.”

Jamil watched you, anxious and fidgety, and he suppressed a smile. There was something amusing about how you acted like a mouse: squeaking and retreating at any sign of danger. Although, he highly doubted that you saw him as a threat.

You were just… shy. You talked a lot, but you were shy.

“It’s fine,” Jamil raised a hand and smiled, practiced and polite, “and I appreciate the flowers. Thank you. It’s a beautiful arrangement—you have a way with bringing out their natural beauty.”

He probably laid it on too thick. It was a habit at this point: butter up people to ease them, to let their guard down. Jamil merely planned to meet this florist to satisfy his curiosity. He never considered the option of befriending this person, much less engaging in a long conversation with you.

Your face lit up, as if something dawned on you in that moment. Chuckling, you stretched out the hand without the glove and gave him your name. It was followed with a cheerful, “It’s nice to meet you! I hope we can get along, um…”

“Jamil,” he shook your hand with that same, practiced smile, “Jamil Viper. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

He noticed your eyes dart towards his hand and arm, inked with the traditional motifs and patterns of his homeland. Under the sunlight that streamed through the glass, your eyes seemed to sparkle. Your mouth parted in a silent, “Oh.”

“That’s so pretty,” you blurted out and continued to stare at the henna tattoos. Jamil simply watched you with wide eyes, but the surprise disappeared in that same instant. Your voice, loud and happy, filled the silence of the room.

“The amount of detail here is amazing, and—Oh, there’s even more tiny patterns inside another pattern. That’s so cool!”

Even though this much praise usually annoyed Jamil (it reminded him too much of Kalim), he found himself flustered. A faint warmth spread across his cheeks as he watched you marvel at the tattoos. You raised a hand, probably to trace the design with a finger, when you paused.

Your smile was frozen on your face, as if you caught yourself doing something embarrassing. Your own cheeks flushed in shame, before you pulled away with a nervous giggle. Jamil almost laughed at how ridiculous you looked at the moment.

He ignored the small voice in the back of his mind that called you cute.

It was supposed to be a one-time encounter. Jamil only visited your flower shop to see the person who opened a new business next to his tattoo parlor. He wanted to see whether this new neighbor of his was going to be tolerable or otherwise. One meeting was enough to deem you tolerable; someone that Jamil could politely wave to if you two happened to pass by each other.

So, why was he looking at a bouquet of irises and white jasmines right now? Why was he standing in your store on a Sunday morning?

“You’ve been coming a lot here lately.” Your voice rang from the back, much like how Jamil first met you. He looked over his shoulder to see you admiring the other flowers with a small smile.

“I don’t mind, really, and it’s nice to have you here. I just didn’t expect you to come here almost every day,” you clarified with a chuckle as you approached him. The telltale flush of your cheeks already told Jamil about how embarrassed you were to confess that. He watched you caress one of the petals of a hydrangea with a gentle look.

For a weekend, it was surprisingly quiet here. People flocked to your store during its first week, and Jamil observed all this in the comfort of his parlor. The window provided a clear view of what was going on, so he didn’t need to go outside. You became frazzled in a matter of moments—running around and arranging the flowers yourself—and that amused Jamil. Just a bit.

Still, you smiled throughout that hectic week.

Me neither, Jamil wanted to say. Instead, he answered, “It’s another slow day in my shop, so I decided to visit. I suppose it’s become a habit whenever I have nothing else to do.”

You chuckled, and Jamil pretended his heart didn’t skip a beat. He ignored the twitch of his lips, curling into a small smile. Oblivious to the look the tattoo artist gave you, you continued to admire the flowers.

“That’s fine with me. Besides, I like your company.”

Your shameless honesty was going to be the death of Jamil. The tips of his ears grew warm, and he tugged his hood over them. He already concluded that you were a thoughtful and considerate person after spending some time with you. You prepared tea and cookies, ones you yourself baked, every time he visited. Careful hands arranged the flowers by meaning and color, which already said enough about you. Being a florist sounded just right for someone like you.

Jamil briefly wondered what flowers you’d give him if you wanted to give him a bouquet.

He cleared his throat, mimicking a cough, before he shifted his attention to the irises and jasmines again. Ever since he searched the meanings of the flowers in that basket, he couldn’t help but be curious.

“Can you tell me what these mean in flower language?” He asked, glancing at you from behind his hood. Whether you found this action odd or not, you didn’t comment on it.

With a curious hum, you leaned over to look at what Jamil referred to and smiled wider. You replied, “Ah, irises can mean wisdom, faith, trust, valor, and hope. As for white jasmines…”

You raised an eyebrow at Jamil with a mischievous grin. He didn’t dare entertain the thought that you were being adorable from the action alone. He didn’t dare hope that the gesture actually meant something.

“They can mean sweet love, and the person who receives them is seen as friendly and pleasant.” You paused, before you suddenly left Jamil’s side and reached for the adjacent wall of flowers. Before Jamil could say anything, you already extended a white bloom under his nose.

Wide-eyed and bewildered, he stared at the flower in your hand. It somewhat resembled a rose in full bloom, but the petals were shaped differently. Another amused laugh echoed in the room. You took his hand, inked with intricate patterns that crawled his skin like vines, and placed the flower in it.

Jamil realized that it was a gardenia. This species of flora grew in some part of the botanical garden of his high school. He was only familiar with it because he used to pass by the area to relax, preferably alone.

“I think this suits you, though.” You hummed and returned to the counter with a spin of your heel. Jamil watched you wordlessly as you disappeared into the greenhouse. From where he stood, the tattoo artist saw pink and white camellias peeking through one of the shelves. He nearly jumped when your head popped out of the door frame.

“Oh, and can you help me carry some of these pots around? They’re pretty heavy, thanks!”

It was only until Jamil got home that he searched for the meaning of the gardenia. The bright laptop screen glared at him as he entered the keywords in the search bar. He clicked on the first result and—

Jamil stared at the words with darkening cheeks. His mouth became dry, and his tongue was tied into knots. His hand slammed the monitor shut, before he abruptly stood up and left for the kitchen. He needed some water. He needed to not think too much into things. You were going to be the death of him, Jamil swore to that.

Still, the words were already seared into his memory: you’re lovely.

Jamil found himself visiting you whenever he could. You always asked for his help whenever heavy labor was involved. If it was anyone else, he would’ve felt annoyed. With you, it was just an excuse for Jamil to stay longer.

Fleeting touches, subtle glances, and shy smiles—it was like your own language. Not a single word was exchanged, yet it felt like you said more than Jamil could comprehend. He didn’t miss the moments when your hands lingered too long over his. He would be a fool not to notice that a cookie jar and a box of teabags sat on the counter each time he visited.

For the past year, you’d give him a single flower every day without fail. One time, after the usual tea, it was a morning glory. Another time, when you were particularly homesick and Jamil stayed to chat, you gave him a hydrangea. When he visited your house and took care of you when you became sick, you gave him a yellow lily the next day. He always brought them home, but it came to the point that a mishmash of flowers in a vase brought color and life to his workspace. It sat under the window, where it bathed under a patch of sunlight. He even considered buying another vase due to the sheer amount.

You gave him all kinds of flowers, but he’d never forget the first gardenia he received from you.

“That looks out of place,” one customer pointed out while Jamil prepared the needle. He already knew what he was talking about, but the tattoo artist still followed his line of sight. A soft smile stretched from one ear to the other, and he didn’t bother hiding it.

Without looking away from the flowers, he answered, “They’re gifts from a friend. It’s the only place I can think of where they can be cared for.”

He ignored the sly, knowing grin on the customer’s face. Suppressing the urge to roll his eyes, Jamil gestured towards the chair and continued to prepare everything he needed for this job.

One sunny day, your storefront was crowded more than usual. Jamil paid no mind to the crowd as he pulled his hood over his head. Inked hands grabbed a bundle of flowers, tied with twine, from the table. They were placed far from the vases that decorated the parlor; just to avoid confusion. His eyes fell on the gardenia he drew on the back of his hand. Jamil added that some time ago, maybe around the past month. Still, it made him smile.

Jamil locked the door, then he instinctively looked at the flower shop. His heart stuttered at the sight of the flowers amongst the crowd. The vibrant and lively blossoms were like a splash of color against the dull tones of the city. What used to be gray pavement and monochrome buildings seemed to come to life with just a few flowers.

He blinked his surprise away, before he gripped the bouquet in his hands. The thrum of his heart and the sweat on his palms weren’t something foreign to Jamil. He always felt like this at the thought of you, even Kalim noticed the change in his friend when he visited once. Your smile flashed in his mind, and his own lips curled into a small one. His feet led him to where he knew you were.

Past the flower shop; past the crowd that lingered at the storefront; past the fresh flowers that gathered against the glass walls. Jamil’s feet grew heavier with each step, as if lead hit the concrete and left faint cracks behind. He stepped through the iron-wrought gates with a soft exhale. His grip on the flowers tightened. He considered going back to the tattoo parlor.

In the end, he thought he’d regret it if he backed out now. Blades of grass grazed his sneakers as he walked through rows of stones. Names were etched into each one, a reminder of who they were to the loved ones left behind. Charcoal gray eyes looked straight ahead. He didn’t bother looking at any of them.

It had been a year since that day, but he still remembered where you were.

Grass crunched under his feet as he stopped in front of an unassuming headstone. Engraved in the stone was your name—funny how he never knew your surname until the funeral. You never told him when you introduced yourself, and he didn’t pry. He even imagined you with his surname at some point, but…

Jamil swallowed the lump in his throat. He crouched on one knee and laid the bundle of flowers on your grave. The tattoo artist made the effort of arranging the colorful blooms in a way that you would. At least, how he remembered that you would.

He stood with his hands in his pockets, and he stared at your gravestone with that same lump in his throat. A sigh rang in the empty cemetery. A cool breeze carried the hustle and bustle of the city. The laugh that used to plague Jamil’s everyday life here was missing. It was gone for months now, but he could still hear it clearly in his head.

“Hey,” Jamil mumbled, clenching his hands into fists, “it’s been a while. I’m sorry I only visited today. It… took me some time to come to terms with what happened. Regardless, you deserved an earlier visit.”

No answer, Of course, there was no answer. You’ve been dead for quite some time now. That was an understatement, considering that a year has already passed.

Jamil’s stomach churned, and an insufferable heat filled his chest. His eyes stung. His nails pierced into the skin of his palms. The lump in his throat seemed to grow bigger, and he found it hard to breathe. Memories of your smile, your laugh, and the time he spent with you and your flowers overlapped in his mind.

He dug his heels into the dirt as he gritted his teeth. The sting behind his eyes grew worse. It was hard to breathe, and he found it harder to speak. He somehow forced the words out with a broken heart, pieces scattered along the ashes of what was left of you.

“You idiot,” Jamil choked out as his vision blurred with tears, “you could’ve called me to help you. How was I supposed to know you were still sick? How was I supposed to know you needed to carry that ridiculously huge flower display across the street? How was I supposed to know that car would lose control and—”

Jamil looked up to the sky with a clenched jaw, teeth clacking and shaking his skull from the force. He wanted to scream. He wanted to curse whatever deity existed in this world. He wanted to forget how you looked, pale and bleeding on the street, that day. He wanted to erase that memory of you until his heart bled out and his voice croaked its last scream.

“—they haven’t found the driver. Everyone who knew you petitioned to keep the shop in your memory. Someone else took over, too. You don’t have to worry about your flowers anymore.”

Since that day, whenever Jamil looked at the ink that adorned his hands and arms, all he remembered was your loud voice and bright smile. Your praise and astonishment echoed in his head like a broken record player. He couldn’t count the amount of times he tried to scrub them clean from his skin. If that didn’t work, he scratched at them until he bled and the patterns were hidden under that shade of red.

In hindsight, Jamil thought that was idiotic of him. Love turned anyone into idiots, anyway.

Sighing, Jamil forced the tears back and looked down at your gravestone. If he tried hard enough, he could imagine you smiling and laughing again. The image of you, lifeless and still on the road, would become a scar that faded with time. He hoped it would be.

“I thought of giving you baby’s breath,” Jamil began as the lump in his throat returned, “along with forget-me-nots, and blue salvia. It would be a horrible contrast, but I also thought of adding pink carnations.”

He paused, before bitterly chuckling to himself. “I don’t have your skills, though. You were always amazing with flower arrangements. I couldn’t hold a candle to you, and I rarely tell anyone that. I didn’t want to give you something that was less than perfect—you deserve more than that, so I settled with sweet peas.”

Jamil knew he was talking to himself. He always found it ridiculous how anyone talked to the dead, even if he understood the necessity to respect the ones who passed. This one time, he understood why people did this. Jamil just couldn’t bring himself to accept the circumstances that led to that revelation.

“They mean goodbye in flower language, but I prefer the other meaning. Maybe, in another life, I would’ve bought you flowers for a date. I was thinking of asking you on a date before. Did you know that?”

Another bitter chuckle. Another shaky breath.

“I was supposed to ask you that day. I finally found the courage to try, and what did I see? You…” The words were stuck in Jamil’s throat. He couldn’t force the words out this time. The clamor outside and the harsh slam of his parlor door echoed in his memories. He didn’t want his last memory of you to be your dying breath. He’d rather not remember that at all.

Jamil shook his head and continued, “I apologize for that. What you need to know is that I like you. I may even go so far as to say I love you, and I’m sorry I never told you earlier. I hope you can forgive me for that.”

The tattoo artist sat down in front of your headstone. He didn’t care if dirt and grass stained his jeans this time. He reached out to trace the name etched into the stone, with the same hand where the inked gardenia peeked out of his sleeve.

“I like your flowers. I like all of them. I still keep them with me. I wish I told you that sooner,” Jamil mumbled, voice cracking at the end. A tear rolled down his left cheek and dripped into the soil. His shoulders shook in a silent sob as he breathed his last words to you.

“Thank you for a lovely time. I’ll never forget you.”

#jamil viper x reader #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #tattoo artist x florist au #hahaha pain #jamil is my least favorite character ngl #but god is he so compelling to analyze #my greatest piece and it's with my least fave #you win this round jamil viper #twst #twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #jamil viper #twst jamil #angst #fluff #romance #twst angst #twst fluff #twst fanfic #fanfiction #AdminCressa🦋 #CressaWrites🦋

[33roda]

Al Haitham lactating nipples in my mouthf rn what I mean by that is 🤭🤭

holding Al Haitham close to you, rubbing small circles with the pads of your fingers on the boy’s chest. But the sounds that the astronomer made were music to your ears, mesmerizing, pulling him in and enticing him to keep touching him just like this.

“How long are you going to keep doing that?” He whined, though he made no move to actually stop you. “I’m not a girl…”

“Are you telling me you don’t like it?” you hummed, pinching the hardened nipples through his shirt. “Because it seems to me like you like it.”

This earned you a high pitched whimper

"P-please just let me move th-e shIRT!"

"Oh good so you do like it." replying to his desperate plea with nothing more than a condescending tease, you opt to just relax with your head on his shoulder. It's nice to just relax with him like this-

"GcK! W-wait~ it feels so- Too much!"

Now your hands are wet but you didn't put your hands down his pants (this time) so why are they? Then it clicks in your head so of course you ask him about it in the best and most normal way possible.

"Haitham I never knew that you could produce milk~. Can I lick them suck them even?" You say to him in a gentle tease

"Please... they hurt and feel so heavy." He replies in a small whine sounding winded. Maybe you should just give him what you both want?

Flipping him around on your lap you finally get a good look at his chest and what do you know he really was lactating so much, matter o fact you could basically see his nipples through his shirt. Hooking your fingers around the bottom of the shirt, finally removing the garment for him.

Looks like some milk dripped down his tummy. Poor thing now you have to lick it off of him :(

Opting to lay him down on the desk in front of you, you begin licking all the way from the bottom near his V-line all the way up to one of his buds just to softly run your tongue over it, blow cold air on it then go to the other one.

After "cleaning" him up while he begged you to stop teasing him, you finally got to work on his buds themselves, taking one into your mouth while harshly rubbing and pinching the other one.

Softly biting the one in your mouth while drinking his milk deciding to put him back on your lap. you finally tune back into what he's been rambling about this entire time

"S'too much! S'too much! Let me cum I've been good pleasepleaseplease~"

"Don't cum all over yourself now baby how about you hump my thigh hm? Or should I just not let you cum." A mocking tone as always. Why were you so cruel to him? Shaky hands undoing his pants so he could properly hump your thigh, and maybe entice you into putting that free hand to better use.

Finally getting to work he starts grinding on your thigh and gripping your shirt. It feels so good. There's no way he'll last he doesn't wanna cum without your permission, but there's nothing you could say to push him over the edge he still could stay your good boy-

"Awe Haitham even though you said you're not a girl you're letting me suck your tits and now you're gonna cum on my thigh like a good girl<3~"

That technically counts as permission right, yeah it definitely does. But why'd you call him a good girl? A good girl? Good girl? And oh Oh OH!

" OH ARcHOnS!~ CUM-CUMMING I'M CUMMING!♡ ShORRY SHO! SHORRY! MASTERRR~!♡♡"

What a mess he made but he looked so beautiful while he cried out for you and held you tight. What were you gonna do with him?

"Oh my you poor thing, but I don't remember saying you could cum." Looking up at you still teary eyed with a silent beg for mercy

Oh is he in for it now…

-🦝

Ik this is ass I was just bored 🤭🤭

oh 🦝 anon my beloved... thank you I almost forgot how absolutely scrumptious haitham's tits are frfr i was making eye contact with his titties the whole time.... this is so hot <3 also while I was adding tags to this post you were the #2 most used tag for me 💀

#chat #dom!reader #genshin smut #🦝 anon #sub!alhaitham

[only-angel-28]

1999, part four - final part!

oh my gosh. final part and what a surprise, she's a long one again💀💀ive loved writing this silly little series so so much and i love all of you very very much🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽please give me requests on what to write next bc my mind is completely blank rn, all i can think of is the cold war and bolsheviks from my history revison and i dont think they would make v good fics🤡🤡

lmk what you think of this part and your fav moments, enjoy!!

warnings: tiny angst, mostly fluff, swearing

1999, part one

1999, part two

1999, part three

༝ ˚ ｡⋆ 𓇼 ⋆｡ ˚ ༝༝ ˚ ｡⋆ 𓇼 ⋆｡ ˚ ༝༝ ˚ ｡⋆ 𓇼 ⋆｡ ˚ ༝༝ ˚ ｡⋆ 𓇼 ⋆｡ ˚ ༝

conrad’s pov

Since Y/n is unable to hold a phone herself, I'm tasked with a lot, but I didn't fully realize the worry of her family until she had me working through each task with her.

No wonder she’s overwhelmed. The number of texts from Laurel, Mom, Belly, Jere and Steven she has to sift through in a given hour would drive anyone insane.

Or maybe I'm just going crazy by sitting this close to her. The smell of her coconut soap is permanently ingrained into my memory as she sits flush against me, pointing at different texts with her uninjured hand.

I can tell her nerves grow stronger as the Uber near the hospital.

Her knees bounce up and down as she dictates message after message I need to send, confusing me more and more with every word.

The work doesn't stop there. After we check in, a nurse hands us a clipboard filled with pages of information that need to be filled out. Y/n stares at it like it might catch on fire at any moment.

"Here." I pass it to her.

Her eyes shift toward the exit. "Will you help me please? I can't write like this." Her voice drops to a barely audible whisper.

"Okay. Tell me your answers and I'll write them down."

Her throat bobs as she scans the first line. It takes her far longer than necessary to read the first question.

"Do you mind reading the questions aloud for me? I'm too stressed to concentrate right now." Her overcompensating smile irritates me.

"Are you sure? Some of the questions are probably personal."

Don't be a dick. Just do what she says.

"I don't care.”

The rigid way she sits in her chair says the complete opposite.

She seems to be one minute away from breaking down, so I concede. I sigh as I grab the pen and get started on the first question. The paperwork doesn't take us as long as I anticipated, so Y/n and I sit together in silence. She stares at the exit longingly.

The way her eyes dart around the room as she gnaws on her bottom lip makes me feel merciful enough to save her from the anxiety eating her up inside.

“If it's any consolation, I hate hospitals too."

Her head swings toward the direction of my voice.

"Yeah?"

I nod. "Haven't been to one since…"

"I know." she says as she sees my chest heaves as I remember the millions of times we’ve been here before.

I keep my eyes focused on the soundless television playing in one corner.

Her good hand clasps onto mine and gives it a squeeze. I'm grateful she understands me enough not to ask any other questions. The idea of offering another raw part of myself feels like a betrayal of the years I've spent carefully developing a certain kind of persona.

"I hate them too." Her voice cracks.

"Why?"

She stares down at her swollen hand. “My dad…” She pauses, and I give her hand a reassuring squeeze like she gave me. "Let's just say mom ended up in the ER a couple of times for being clumsy."

I take a deep breath to stave off the anger bubbling beneath the surface. "And did you have issues with being clumsy?" If she says yes, I swear to God two men will end up floating in the Chicago River tonight.

She shakes her head rather aggressively. "No. No." My rapid heart rate can be heard through my ears. "If you were, you can tell me." While I can't promise I won't do anything about it, I can promise to make him hurt. A lot. With sulfuric acid or something, those pre-med studies are starting to come in handy now.

The overwhelming sense of protectiveness hits me hard, and I don't shy away from it. There is nothing I hate more than men who use their fists against innocent women and children.

"It never got to that point. Suze made sure of it." she says with a small smile.

"How?"

"She caught onto the signs and interfered before things got bad. Used her savings from my grandpa's life insurance policy to help Mom get a divorce and start a new life." A tear slips down her face, and I can't stand the sight of it.

I brush it away with the pad of my thumb, but the damp trail still lingers. A driving force inside of me wants to erase the sad look on her face. "Did her plan also happen to include a jug of sulfuric acid?"

She forces out a laugh. "I think concrete shoes were more in style back then."

I fake shudder. "Remind me to never make mom angry again."

"Forget her, you'd have to deal with me." She holds up her injured hand like a war trophy.

"I'm absolutely terrified."

"Miss Y/n?" a nurse calls out.

Y/n doesn't move at the sound of her name.

"That's you." I place my hand on her thigh and give it a squeeze.

She sucks in a deep breath as she stares down at my hand.

Her chair nearly tumbles behind her as she bolts out of the seat, throwing her one good hand up in the air. "I'm here!"

The nurse leads us through the emergency room bay.

Individual beds line the wall, each area divided by a paper curtain.

The empty bed meant for Y/n is unacceptable. Between the person retching behind one partition and the individual on the other side hacking up their lung, I refuse to let her be seen here.

"I'd like my…my friend, to be taken care of in a private suite," I speak up. I know I sound snotty right now but honestly, I’ll be damned if I let her already horrible hospital experience get any worse.

The nurse grimaces as her gaze licks across my body. "This is a hospital. Not the Ritz. Take a seat and wait for the doctor like everyone else."

Y/n hops on the bed without any complaint, and I'm tempted to grab her and go elsewhere. The nurse doesn't seem the least bit bothered by all the noise happening around us as she checks Y/n’s vitals and asks some routine questions.

Y/n answers each one while chewing her bottom lip raw. This atmosphere couldn't put anyone at ease, least of all her.

The nurse hangs the clipboard at the foot of the bed, and I decide to try again.

"I'll pay whatever it takes to have her seen somewhere quieter. Money is no object."

The nurse only replies by shutting the paper curtain in my face.

Y/n laughs while I stare at the curtain, dumbfounded to be treated like this.

"You find this funny?"

She nods, her eyes alight for the first time all night. "Did you see her face when you said money is no object? I think if she didn't put the clipboard away, she would have slapped your face with it."

"It's not my fault she isn't accustomed to how things are done in the real world."

"Wake up baby. You're living in the real world." She waves around our room.

"It's terrifying." I say, looking away so she couldn’t see the blush that appeared on my face at the nickname.

"Come here. I'II make it better." Y/n pats the bed.

Doubtful, but I'm a glutton for giving her what she wants lately. Paper crinkles as I sit next to her. I take up most of the bed, giving her little room to get away from me. My thigh brushes against hers. She tries to scoot away, but there isn't enough space.

“Isn’t this cozy?" she quips.

I give her a small smile before she asks, “Hey! Let me see your tattoo.”

God I’d forgotten all about them. I move the collar of my shirt to show the two small ivy leaves we’d gotten. She gasps and gently touches my skin, “Oh my gosh it’s so pretty Connie.” she stares at it for a moment before I ask to see hers.

She lifts up her shirt on the side, exposing her ribcage and the two matching leaves.

“I can’t believe you agreed to get a Taylor Swift referenced tattoo with me Con.” she says as I admire the tattoo for a bit.

I smile until saying, “Hey I might be quiet and mopey but at least I have good taste in music.”

She softly smiles at me before eyeing the IV bag with horror before checking out the exit.

"What’s wrong?”

She leans closer to me and whispers, "Is now a bad time to admit I pass out whenever someone tries to stick a needle in me?"

My lips lift at the corners. I don't know why I find the idea hilarious, given her ability to watch eight consecutive hours of true crime documentaries without so much as flinching.

"You're afraid of needles?"

She sputters. "No. I'm not afraid. It just happens to be a bodily reaction I can't control."

“That's good then because the nurse needs to set you up with that IV when she comes back."

“No! Don't tell me that! I thought she was one of the good ones.”

I nod, pressing my lips together to prevent myself from laughing.

"She lied to me!" She bolts from the seat and would have tripped over her own heels if I didn't reach out and catch her.

*Careful." I place her back on the bed and decide to stand guard in case she gets any ideas to flee the scene.

Her eyes fit from me to the gap between two curtains, as if she is thinking how she can get past me.

"I'm joking.”

She scans my face for the truth before she slaps my shoulder with her good hand. "Asshole! I believed you!"

Laughter explodes out of me like a bomb, stunning her.

“Did you just laugh?”

"No."

“Yes." Someone calls out from the other side of the curtain.

“Now, do you mind shutting up? Some of us are trying to get some sleep over here after having our stomach pumped."

Fuck this place and the people in here. "We're leaving."

"Not so fast. You can't leave before I check you out." The doctor strolls in and points at the bed with his clipboard.

Y/n remains tight-lipped as the doctor checks her chart. He asks her some questions about how she got hurt, all while staring me up and down like I'm the person she was trying to injure. She is taken away for a few scans, and my breathing doesn't return to normal until the nurse brings her back.

That should be my first sign that things are getting out of hand on my end. I'm inching closer to an emotional minefield without any kind of map, only one wrong step away from exploding.

The doctor checks the scans. "It looks like you have a boxer's fracture."

Her face brightens. "That sounds badass."

I glare at her. "Calm down, Muhammad Ali. I wouldn't count today as a victory by any means."

The doctor's eyes lighten. "Next time, avoid any initial contact on the fourth and fifth knuckles."

"Please don't encourage her."

The doctor shakes his head with a laugh before giving Y/n a detailed set of instructions regarding the healing time. I'm skeptical about the whole visit and, given the setting, doubtful about the level of care. I'll be damned if Y/n sustains permanent injuries because of Dean. My chest tightens at the idea.

“Great Thanks, Doc!" She hops off the bed, but I hold my arm out, stopping her

"I’d like a second opinion." The command bursts out of me without any rhyme or reason. Deep down, I know a boxer's fracture isn't the worst thing that could have happened. But things aren't right in my head where Y/n is concerned. At least not anymore.

Both of the doctor's eyebrows arch. "For a small fracture?"

"Don't mind him. He tends to be a bit overbearing." She shoots me a look as if I'm the crazy one out of the two of us.

"Okay..." the doctor says.

Maybe I am losing it because why else would I care?

You hate it when she cries.

You wouldn't mind murdering someone who hurt her.

You took her to the hospital even though you despise them with every fibre of your being.

The signs all point to one thing: our situation is quickly crumbling, and I'm the only one to blame.

Y/n interrupts my thoughts. "I'll be sure to wear the brace for a few weeks and avoid any kind of activities that could aggravate the injury."

"Perfect. And don't forget to schedule a follow-up visit with your physician. "The doctor gives me one last look before handing Y/n the discharge paperwork. "Nice meeting you."

"Will you help me with this?" She holds out the clipboard with her left hand as the doctor leaves.

I grab it from her and fill it out.

She checks the time on her phone. "Well, at least that didn't take as long as I thought it would. I'm sure you're dying to get back home."

That's the scary thing. I didn't think about anything or anyone once during our entire time here because making sure she was taken care of was my only concern. I've spent the past seventeen years of my life thinking solely about my future, and all it took was one girl to make me completely forget about my responsibilities for a few hours.

As if that doesn't scare me enough, it only takes one glance at her makeshift brace to make my blood burn hot under my skin. I know exactly why her injury angers me more than anything else.

It's the same reason I feel the urge to push Jere away from her whenever he gets too close or the way I unexplainably need to see her whenever she is out of my sight for longer than a few hours.

You’re in love with her.

Fuck.

                ༝ ˚ ｡⋆ 𓇼 ⋆｡ ˚ ༝༝ ˚ ｡⋆ 𓇼 ⋆｡ ˚ ༝༝ ˚ ｡⋆ 𓇼 ⋆｡ ˚ ༝༝ ˚ ｡⋆ 𓇼 ⋆｡ ˚ ༝

y/n’s pov

We’re in an Uber on the way home, sitting in comfortable silence until Conrad breaks it.

“Why’d you get with Dean anyway?” My stomach doubles over.

Comfortable silence is so overrated.

I sigh. I’ve been dreading this question for ages now.

“I don’t know.” I answer vaguely.

Conrad gives me a puzzled look, “What do you mean you don't know? You must’ve had a reason.”

His restlessness gets me more agitated.

“I don’t know Conrad. I don’t know why I got with him, I don’t know why I was waiting on you for so long either.” I look out the window as the car stops in front of the house.

“What? What do you mean?” he says as I get out the car and speed up to the front door, taking the keys out of my pocket and refusing to carry on with this conversation anymore.

Conrad keeps yelling after me as he follows me upstairs to my room, both of us trying to ignore everyone else who joined Conrad and are trying to ask their own questions.

I slam my door shut and collapse on my bed hearing Conrad trying to calm everyone down and telling them everything that's happened until he asks them all to give me some space for now.

I cry in the silence as I hear everyone leaving from outside the door until it opens.

“Hey.”

Steven. Thank God.

“Steve…” I say sniffling.

He looks at me with a sad smile before sitting on the bed with me and taking me in his arms.

“Con told us everything,” he says after a few minutes of holding me, “did you really get a boxer's fracture?”

I laugh in tears before showing him my hand and saying, “You should see the other guy.”

Steven and I laugh together before going back to the silence as he hugs me.

“He really cares about you, you know.”

“No he doesn’t. He hates me. I yelled at him and now I’m crying here on my bed like an idiot.”

“Did he say anything to you?” Steven looks down at me.

I shake my head before saying, “He asked why I got with Dean.”

“Oh. That’s not too bad.”

“No it’s not.”

“Then why are you so upset?”

“Because I’ve been waiting for Conrad for so long and I’m just sick and tired of always being there to help him get over his breakups when he’d be so much better off with me. I know I sound selfish and none of my reasons are justified but I just thought that after everything we’ve been through together, he’d maybe like me just a little bit.”

Steven hugs me again and softly says, “He does.”

After that almost everyone but Conrad came in to check up on me and make sure I was okay, making me feel even more guilty about being all emotional like this. It’s not until Susannah’s holding me and whispering sweet nothings that my eyes start to feel heavy.

I think I fell asleep after that, I don’t remember much except waking up to the sun shining its very unwelcome face in my eyes.

I step out of my room after freshening up and I’m about to make my way to the kitchen for food until I’m stopped by something in the hallway.

Or should I say someone.

“Conrad,” I bend down and stroke his hair out of his face, “Conrad wake up.” I say gently.

He stirs for a minute before sitting up and taking my hands in his.

“Have you been out here all night?” I ask.

“Yes.” he says in a raspy voice.

God that voice would make my knees give out if I wasn’t already on the floor with him.

“Why?”

“I need to talk to you.”

I sigh before he interrupts me, “Listen, I heard everything you said to Steven last night and I know I shouldn’t have and I was eavesdropping but I’m sorry it was by accident. And I know I don’t deserve any more of your time…I’ve already wasted a lot of it but just hear me out for ten minutes.”

“No.” I try to get out of his grasp.

“Stop fighting and give me ten minutes.”

“No way.”

“Nine then.”

“Five.”

“Eight and a half.”

“Six.”

“Seven.”

I pause, knowing that he won’t let me go anywhere before I hear him out.

“You don’t deserve seven seconds, let alone seven minutes of my time.”

“How about seven words then?”

I laugh. “I’d like to see you try.”

“I am falling in love with you.”

I blink up at him. Either I am still sleeping or I must have not heard him correctly because there is no way Conrad Fisher just admitted that he is falling in love with me.

Absolutely no fucking way.

Right?

I squeeze my eyes shut as if that can erase the words from my memory.

"You're joking.

"I'm not."

"This is just another part of your game." I try to push him away, but he doesn't budge.

"It stopped being a game for me a long time ago."

"You're lying."

His brows pull together. "Ask me why I hate when people touch my bookshelf."

"Are you serious right now? What does that have to do with any of this?" I think back to his bookshelf he won’t let any of the others go near but loves to let me organise and re-organise each year.

"Because I did it for you."

"I'm sorry, what?"

"I read somewhere online that organising objects like books and things is good for people with anxiety, because then they can feel in control of something and know exactly what to expect especially if things are the same as they've predicted all the time. You love reading too, so I changed it. Bought all the books you like to read so that you’d stay and read with me more often. I forced everyone else out of my room and especially away from that bookshelf. All because I wanted to help you."

Emotions clog my throat, preventing my ability to reply.

What can I possibly say that could compare to that?

Conrad doesn't give me an option as he continues. "Want to know why I kept this plant you got me?" he says pointing to the small green cactus with “Don’t be a prick” written on the pot that we could see looking into his room from the hallway.

I nod.

"Because it was the first time someone got me a present that made me laugh."

If hearts could melt into puddles, mine would be liquified right about now.

I take a deep breath.

Remember what he did.

“Con that doesn't change anything you still ignored me for a whole year. Every time I tried to call you or text you, you’d just leave me on read or decline, and now you’re telling me you love me? Who does that?"

"Someone who doesn't understand the first thing about loving someone, but is willing to try if you give me a chance."

"You want me to give you a chance after everything? Do you think I'm stupid?"

He winces, and a bit of my anger fades away at his vulnerability.

"Intelligence has nothing to do with this."

"Easy for you to say when you're not the one who feels like a fool."

"Really? Because based on your reaction today, I'm feeling pretty damn foolish for ever admitting that I'm falling in love with you." He gets up off the floor, leaving me feeling chilled to the bone.

"Con..." I reach out, but he takes a step back.

My eyes sting from his rejection. It hurts.

“I’m not asking you to love me back. I don't expect that and I'm not sure if I ever will because I'm the furthest thing for lovable. I'm selfish, and rude, and don't know the first thing about being in a proper relationship with someone. But that doesn't mean I’m not willing to try for you if you let me."

How am I supposed to be angry at him when he thinks he is unlovable?

A pain rips through my chest at the thought of him talking about himself this way.

I get up off the floor and walk straight into his chest. His arms quickly wrap themselves around my waist, holding me even tighter.

"Just because you make selfish choices doesn't mean you're a selfish person. At least not completely."

This boy had been there for Belly, Steven, me and Jere for years without any kind of payback, especially when Susannah was going through her cancer and despite feeling an immense amount of pain himself, he shoved all his emotions aside so that he could be there for us. For me. If that isn't a selfless sacrifice, I don't know what is.

"Your logic is half-baked at best."

"So is yours, seeing as you called yourself unlovable."

His body tenses. "I'm stating facts."

"I don't know what bullshit your father told you over the years, but it's not true. Your brother loves you."

"He’s obligated to."

"No one is obligated to love someone else. Blood or not."

He takes a deep breath. "You're right."

I smile up at him. "I could get used to hearing those words."

He reaches up and cups my cheek. "Give me a chance and I'll tell you them every single day."

I sigh and look away. "I don't know.”

"Tell me what's stopping you."

"You don't do relationships."

“Good thing our feelings lead us here rather than our minds, and mine are willing to try then."

I avoid his penetrating gaze. "What if my feelings are telling me to run?”

“It's cute you think you can outrun me, but I'll give you a head start just to make things interesting." he smiles down at me.

"Do you always have an answer for everything?"

"Not for the one that matters most." The way he looks at me stirs up something deep inside of me.

Longing. I want to give him a chance, regardless of the potential fallout.

You might get hurt.

I might, but I might miss out on something special because I’m too afraid of the what ifs. I'm done being that person. Even if it means getting hurt, I'd rather try and fail than never try at all.

I stand on the tips of my toes and press my lips against his.

He holds me tight against his chest, as if he is afraid of letting me go.

I pull away, only to clasp onto his chin. "This could be a disaster, but I'm willing to try."

He shuts me up by pushing his lips against mine, sealing our new deal. The way he kisses me is different than any time before. He cups my face with the palms of his hands as his lips mold against mine, teasing me until I feel dizzy. His thumb brushes across my cheek back and forth, and heat rushes down my spine straight to my belly. He makes me feel cherished. Protected.

Loved in a way that makes me never want to come back down to reality.

I could spend forever being kissed like this and still feel like it isn't enough. While Conrad might not be the best with words, his kiss says it all.

He is falling in love with me. And I’m falling in love with him. No translation necessary.

                ༝ ˚ ｡⋆ 𓇼 ⋆｡ ˚ ༝༝ ˚ ｡⋆ 𓇼 ⋆｡ ˚ ༝༝ ˚ ｡⋆ 𓇼 ⋆｡ ˚ ༝༝ ˚ ｡⋆ 𓇼 ⋆｡ ˚ ༝

ahh i cant believe its finished omg😔💔...

anyways, onto the next one😍🙏

again please lmk what you think of this and please give me requests on what to do next!!

#conrad fisher #conrad fisher x reader #conrad fisher x y/n #fanfic #fics #tsitp #belly conklin #jeremiah fisher #steven conklin #the summer i turned pretty #1999 #conrad x reader fluff #conrad x y/n angst #conrad x y/n fluff #conrad x reader #conrad x y/n

[fanyyy444]

Everytime I try to enter the void and I don't do so, I always have strange and lucid dreams(Which I feel really happy/glad that it happens, for me it's a sign that I almost entered the void😊).

I currently don't remember the dreams I had the other day(The day before yesterday), but yesterday I dreamed about a lot of things(And very nonsense things as usual lol), I even dreamed about gigantic Minecraft zumbis like?? This clearly happened because I've been playing this game a lot recently and it affected my subconscious(Y'all know what I mean, right?), I also dreamed about sharks and whales lol, and also that I was walking on the streets in a "sexy" way and people couldn't stop looking at me and then a random guy even stopped his bike near me and asked me if he could take a pic of me sitting in his skate(?) AND I FUCKING SAID NO KSJSKSJAKAK, I didn't saw any skate btw, soo he asked if he could just take a pic with me instead and I accepted, and then I remember going to a square/park with this guys(Sorry it the translation is wrong, anyway we call it "Praça/Pracinha" in my language) and I don't remember much but then I just was in a temple or something and it was when I saw the gigantic zumbis. Some other things about yesterday's dream I just don't remember so I'm sorryy🥲

So, I just woke up now and I was having VERY strange dreams, I'll tell some things I remember from the dream but they won't be in line I guess lmao(I mean they won't be in the correct order since Idk🥲 Anywayss).

I just remembered it now as I'm writing this, but I think that the very beginning of the dream was about that demonic thing idk, I was with a girl in a place(Probably my house in the dream, not my current house) and I don't remember much but I think she looked into a mirror or a book or I don't know and then her face started distorting and became very creepy, and then I looked at the thing too and I remember everything just became all black and started distorting..My face probably became the same like hers, very creepy and scary. I tried to find a pic in Pinterest to give y'all an idea of what her face looked like but couldn't find anything scary just like the face of that girl in my dream(It was so scary).

I also remember seeing a swimming pool, a big big big swimming pool(And yeah I did swim in it).

In the dream I was with some girls that got "possessed" too, at the end, the only one who survived was me I guess.

I also remember seeing my mother, not very sure about that tho, but I think I saw her.

I remember being stuck in a bathroom stall with another girl(I was in a house of a woman which I know her in real life btw, I mean I didn't looked at her face but in the dream she just was her ok?), the woman was apparently possessed too and was trying to touch us(And probably possess us too idk), but I was holding something(Like glass) and she couldn't touch me and the other girl, I don't really remember what happened to the girl who I was with in the stall but she just disappeared idk, when I left the stall the woman appeared again(I just remember seeing her hand tho) and I fucking took a knife out of nowhere(Out of my anus probably💀) and I think I cut her hand or killed her idk, it happened so fast and I don't remember much, I just remember seeing her hand in the door of the bathroom when I was leaving it, and then I took a knife and (Probably, cause I don't remember) killed her or something.

I also remember I was in a stranger's house and I find a guy inside the house which his name was "Jungkook"(I swear I'm not kidding, whenever I tell people that my dreams are so strange and random I'M NOT LYING😭😭), I don't remember what happened after that tho, I just remember I was in a house of man and I entered his house and there was a guy whose name was "Jungkook", the man/stranger/owner of the house was outside sitting on the stairs from the door of his house.

I remember I was walking on a street with another girl, or maybe two girls idk, we were talking about what happened I guess(The possession thing), and they said something about god like "Thanks to god...etc" I don't really remember, but then I said something that I also don't remember but it was related to Satan(I'm a Satanist), like I said I was different from them and then I mentioned Satan and after that the girls got possessed or something again idk why??? Then I just ran I guess and the girls disappeared..

Let me see if I remember something else..

Well, after the girl looked at the thing her face distorted as hell, then I looked at it too and my vision just became all black and I looked at up and my face probably distorted too, and then the whole possession thing happened in the dream, but I think that the start of the dream wasn't me and that girl really, I remember seeing my mother, then I think I went to the house backyard and I found the girl with the mirror/book, etc etc.

I think I don't remember anything else :(

Btw, these are the subs I used and I'm using right now👇🏻

I think that's all for now, I'll keep updating y'all if something happens(Related to the void, subliminals, my manifestations, etc).

Soo byebye?👋🏻💕

Just me apologizing if this post seemed a bit strange(Just like my dreams itself loll), I'm sorry if someone got scared with the things I said :( My dreams are very very strange and random and nonsense I know I know, again I apologize if someone felt bad/got scared by the things I said, it's not not my intention😕

#void #void state #void success #loassumption #loa tumblr #loa blog #loa tips #loa success #loa #manifest #manifestation #manifesting #how to manifest #law of assumption #law of attraction #law of manifestation #law of the universe #universe #subliminals #affirmations #affirm and persist #witch #witchcraft #satanist #satanism #lucid dreams #lucid dreaming #dreams #neville goddard #manifestation success story

[riacte]

false-ren dynamic in today's stream, short summary:

we start off with false lightly roasting ren about not getting a kill and ren doing his speech (for what must be the 7th time) about how he won't kill false because she's his homie. talked about protecting her and said "my false" and how he's retiring from reaping.

AND then bdubs and xb respectively came along to lure/bribe ren, to which false started yelling in all caps (she has the caps privilege in ren's chat) about him being a traitor. she offered to outbid bdubs and xb (by offering 90% of the prize). but ren wasn't looking at chat. and ren's chat was like NOOOOO REN don't betray false 🥺🥺🥺

so ren is utterly useless and pathetic as a reaper and she doesn't care too badly until he talks with someone else and suddenly she jumps in, guns blazing, yelling about how he ditched her or something lmfao. she calls him a meanie.

at one point i sent a chat about how ren is going to accidentally kill her while he's trying to save her and she replied with "this, without him trying to save me" 💀 incompetent doggy

then we have the iskall-bdubs-ren whatever the fuck it was. ren created an interesting metaphor for iskall's new nether portal- he described it as going on a date with someone and decided to call off the date because of a "swollen" and "pulsating" zit on her forehead. (phrases that also appear: "booty that won't quit" "junk in the trunk" and something about bdubs making him "a little excited). then he talked about how he ordered sweatpants but it didn't fit and he had to pull them up to his nipples (?). and a bunch of other weird shit.

anyways false was still in chat sending out facepalm emojis and telling chat to close their ears and run away and leave. it got bad enough that she was like "i'm logging on just to throw myself off a cliff" "this shouldn't be live. like what" "it's like watching a car crash" "OH GOD" "i'm building a zit so they won't come near me" "going to overthrow him". meanwhile chat was pleading begging sobbing for false to log on and do something, anything. kill him. shut him up. and false was like i don't wanna go near them you should be the ones helping me chat 🥺.

but in the end, our brave warrior false logged on, sent a single message about thinking of the kids, then logged off. they all ignored her. and she was like "chat i tried".

that was how chat and false sat through like an hour of the most insane twaddle. and he was like "this is why i'm still single" 💀 a chatter was like "there are still ladies in the line" and false was like "after that? D:" and then chat was like "the line has been emptied"

several hermits raided ren after that, including iskall, cleo and joe that i remember of, and ren apologised to false for all the lad talk and.... 🤡. yeah. but quite a lot of hermits did have ren's stream running (iskall, joe, cleo, stress, doc, and ofc false)

anyways it's funny how false has become the spokesperson for ren's chat and we were ALL begging her to stop him. and ren really was like "i'll never hurt false" and then proceeded to get instantly swayed. "tempted by the devil". ren, please. think of your poor chat.

#hermitcraft #rendog #the rd difference #liveblogging

[harus-simp]

Asking you to prom (maknae line)

Shen Ricky, Kim Gyuvin, Park Gunwook, Han Yujin

Genre: fluff

Warning: none

Author's note: so here's the second part of it, hope you guys like it :D

And remember that the dresses can be modified to the ones you like or even suits if you are more comfortable with them <3

Hyung line

°□°□°□°□°□°□°□°□°□°□°□°□°□°□°□°□

How would they ask you to go to prom with them?

Ricky

♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡

Now this one's a funny one 💀💀💀

Actually he wasn't planning on going at all to prom lol

But hearing his friends say that they were afterwards going to see his favourite band in concert he changed his mind

He didn't need to go tho in order to attend the concert but somehow gyuvin convinced him 💀

However, he needed a partner (totally not forced by gyuvin as well)

So he decided to ask thr first person that entered the classroom

You so coincidentally appeared right by the door

So with all the courage he had in him he approached you slowly

Now why are we talking about courage now?

Well, he knew you were one of the few people that wasn't affected by anyone's rizz

Literally the most indifferent person on the room

So when you accepted to his request with a smile he was pleasantly surprised by it

You were not interested in him per se but you found him really attractive and hot and wouldn't miss the chance to go with him

(Okay maybe you did have a crush on him)

You knew he wasn't interested in you but It wouldn't hurt to just enjoy yourself for a little bit

He picked you up and let's just say you left him standing there blushing furiously 😳

Why did you look so graceful and magnificent?

"Wow you- you look breathtaking"

Did he just say that outloud? Worse, did he stuttered?

Anyways you both were now a blushing mess

Once you got there he immediately wrapped one of his arms around your waist pulling you closer to him and causing the crowd to whistle and be mesmerised by the somehow odd combination

You thought he wanted just to enter with you and maybe be together for a lil time but ricky wasn't planning on letting you go anytime sooner now

So you both enjoyed the night talking and dancing (maybe even kissing outside 👁👄👁)

But one thing for sure was that this wouldn't be for just one night

He was now at your mercy and willing to do anything to have you by his side

"I don't want this night to end"

The concert? We don't know her, we are not interested on her now

He was down bad 😛

Gyuvin

☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆

You and gyuvin had your history together

You guys were enemies to put it in a way

When you were younger he once kicked you on p.e by accident and since then you've been annoying each other (pretty childish but yeah)

The truth is that you didn't hate him anymore but just pretended to just to keep your feelings to yourself (yeah you were in love with him hehe 😘)

Did he want to ask you to go to prom together?

Absolutely not

Did he had any other option?

Also no

He had been rejected by a couple of people which of course hurted his pride, but he was willing to do anything, even ask out his enemy

Of course you declined at first, but he was in a desperate state so he wasn't gonna give up that easily

So he offered money

You weren't one to be that influenced, but you were short on money that month, so you accepted

You guys picked the park near the place the event would be held as a meeting point because he didn't want to make it that serious

When you tapped his shoulder to make your presence known he had to stop for a while because his mouth was open wide

You looked like a literal princess next to him

He had to blink a couple times later because he just forgot to

"Um, you don't look that bad"

"Thanks, you don't look that bad yourself"

So with that said you headed to together

He even offered his arm to you for support to like keep the act and all that (but it was actually because he wanted you close to him for some reason)

When you entered and was planning to go with your friends (because you thought he wanted that) he held you by your wrist

"Don't go"

"Huh?"

"What? Can't I just want to be with you?"

In that moment you felt like the luckiest person ever

So just as he said you didn't go, you stayed by his side the whole night having fun and smiling like an angel

Gyuvin hadn't ever felt so happy in his life, he didn't think you out of all people would make him feel all fuzzy and warm inside

And specially drawn to you

He had just decided that he didn't hate you anymore 😌

And who knows, maybe this was the the start of your new relationship (not romantic yet) with him ❤️

Gunwook

♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡

Gunwook was part of the anti bullying club

A literal angel 😇

He wasn't the most popular person on school but he was admired by almost everyone

You had the fattest crush on him, but he was unreachable to you, too perfect and shining in your eyes

Besides, you had only talked a few times in class, but nothing more. So you don't think he actually remembers you

The prom night was kinda a sensitive topic to you

Your parents put a lot of pressure on you because theirs was literally the best night of their lives and the night were they confessed to each other (a pretty romantic story <3)

So they were counting on you ending as them

But no one had asked you out yet, so you were scared to disappoint them

However, what you didn't expect was to be asked out by gunwook?

Wow wow wow, hold on. What? 🤯

How did this happen?

Well, on lunch time you were chilling happily with your friends when you saw him coming your way making you curious

Would he ask one of your friends?

He stopped when he was by your side and asked you right there on the spot making you a nervous wreck

You couldn't believe it

But you stuttered out how you could your answer

"Y/n, I know we haven't talked much but I think you are an amazing person and I would like to go to prom with you"

"M-me, ahm ye-yes I'd like to"

So you told immediately your parents

Bad idea

Now they thought he was your boyfriend

You told the misunderstanding to gunwook but he just brushed it off and told you to just fake it, just so you could please them (he didn't mind tho, if his crush was desperate he just took his shot)

And that's what you did

Your parents welcomed him waiting for you to get changed and literally fell in love with him on how polite and gentle he seemed

You finally finished and was ready to go with gunwook but your parents decided to take a couple of photos of the moment

Photos where he looked like the happiest men alive

When you guys got out of your house he complimented you with the biggest smile and softest glance ever making you melt inside

And just as your parents you had probably the best night of your life

That ended with both of you exchanging your first kiss 😉

Two cuties in love kinda oblivious to it

Yujin

☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆

You know those kind of friends that have known each other since you were literally babies? (Childhood friends yeah)

Yep, those were you and yujin, the bestest of friends

The duo that was always bickering in between classes but kinda looked like two baby lions play fighting ☺️

You weren't together 24/7 because he was on the football team and you were on your drawing classes

But each opportunity you had you spend it together

As your families were quite close to another they always joked how you would end up together at one point, which you both hated and always opposed to it

However as time passed our little lion yujin was in conflict with himself because maybe he did like you that much

And this was pointed out by more than one person so he was starting to question it himself

As the end of the year was coming the school decided to throw a party inspired by the prom night, so everyone had to act as if they were on it

When yujin learned he had to invite someone he instantly thought of you

But he seemed to shy to ask it himself

Everytime he tried he always backed down

So deciding it was enough you decided to ask him himself

"Y/n i- I wanted to see if um- if um-"

"Yujin, let's go to this prom together"

And smiling shyly at the situation he accepted

Thanks y/n for helping our little yujin 🥰

As you were still kinda young your parents offered on giving you a ride, but due to the embarrassment they would probably cause both you decided to make an agreement and let them leave you halfway

So when you opened the door and saw his eyes shot up and be instantly focused on you, it made you shy

But yujin just thought you looked so cute and pretty that he just needed to look at you properly

When you finally started walking alone once being left at the according point you interlaced your fingers with him expressing your excitement

Was making yujin all shy and flustered your new mission?

Yes but unknown to you apparently lol

When you got to the event you had a pretty decent time together

That was when you accidentally drank a cup of waiting?

That wasn't orange juice?

🧍‍♀️🧍‍♀️🧍‍♀️

Now you were being dragged by yujin outside to take a break

You felt actually touched by his gesture

You had never saw him taking care of you that much

When you were feeling better y'all got bored of the party 💀

So you decided to go to McDonald's :D

Turns out you had a better time there just playing around and messing with each other

Two teenagers being teenagers

And maybe having a crush on each other

But y'all didn't need to know that at the moment 😉

°◇°◇°◇°◇°◇°◇°◇°◇°◇°◇°◇°◇°◇°◇°◇°◇°

#zerobaseone imagines #zerobaseone headcanons #zerobaseone drabbles #zerobaseone fanfics #zerobaseone reactions #zerobaseone x reader #zerobaseone #zerobase1 #zb1 #zerobaseone ricky #zerobaseone gyuvin #zerobaseone gunwook #zerobaseone yujin #boys planet #boys planet drabbles #boys planet fanfics #boys planet reactions #boys planet headcanons #boys planet x reader #kpop #:))

[derangedanomaly]

been seeing a lot of sanses x reader, so how about something different.

What if the bad sanses and y/n only see eachother as best friends. Like the whole group watch horror movies and give eachother cuddles platonically. The whole group is involved and each person gets along with everyone because Y/N helped with the arguing problems?

So: Y/N sees everyone as a friend, and the Bad sanses see y/n as a friend.

YES! I love this request! (I've had a little too much fun with this 💀) sorry if it's not like how you imagined it, I just played with this idea a bit. It's not every day you see a platonic request.

Masterlist

READER BEING THE BAD SANSES BEST FRIEND (PLATONIC)

(Nightmare, Dust, Killer, Horror, Error)

Safe to say that you were truly in one hell of a ride. Everyday was a rollercoaster with the Bad Sanses. Let's go over some moments together, shall we?

1# The Coffee machine

"YOU SON OF A BITCH!"

You jolted up awake at the sound of arguing from downstairs. Looks like the boys were roundhousing again..

You groaned as you made your way down the stairs. "Guys? What-" your eyes widened as you saw a chair barely missing your face. Dust turned to you in alarm. "Oh my god.. What are you doing standing there!? Help us!" You blinked when you heard those words, but had no time to say anything as you were pulled by Killer. "OK! OK! Y/N. This is really bad.." you looked at Killer tiredly. "Killer. What did you do?!" Killer flashed you a shocked look, dramatically gasping. "I cannot believe that you just accused me of this horrible tragedy!" "He broke the..coffee machine." Horror snitched on Killer as all the chatter went mute.

Killer slowly turned to Horror. "Horror...you snitch.. why did you have to say it so loudly?" You snorted a little, along with Dust who looked like he could lose it any time soon. "Oh, you're royally fucked Killer." Was your last sentence before going back to bed, as Nightmare dragged Killer.

"AHHH! NIGHTMARE WAIT!!! W-WE CAN TALK ABOUT THIS-" He yelled, as he was thrown in the air. "Too late."

2# FAILED SLEEPOVER

You laid in bed as you giggled. "Ok ok..so.. there's this person that I like-" you began, but Killer gasped. "Oh my god! Guys, guys! It's happening!" They all got closer to you, smiling like idiots. "Come on! Who's it? Are they nice??" Dust also nudged you as your cheeks started turning red.

You were about to start blabbering about them, until Nightmare scared the shit out of you all. "Why the fuck are you all up?! Go to sleep! I swear...I won't agree the next time y'all ask me about a sleepover..." You all sighed in annoyance. Damn, does this guy have zero knowledge of what it means to have fun? You laid on your side, closing your eyes, and about to fall asleep, until you felt Nightmare poke you softly. "..tell me about the special person later...I wanna know if they're good enough for you.."

3# Lacking Discipline

You and the boys successfully snuck in Nightmare's room. Tiptoeing towards his bed, along with quiet giggles. "Ok.. remember, we have to be quiet." You nodded at Dust's words, shooting looks at Killer. "Whaaat?" You playfully rolled your eyes at his antics.

You reached forward, and pulled Nightmare's sheets away from his boney face, as you gestured to Dust and Killer. They creepily smiled, holding their red markers.

Killer just finished his last line at Nightmare's mess of a face, when you saw Nightmare stirr in his sleep. It looks like he's about to wake up! You silently gasped, pushing Killer to the floor, and taking Horror's hand in the process.

Killer almost yelled when you shoved him to the floor. "Hey! Dust...!" He flashed him a pleading look, silently asking him for help. Dust just showed him a peace sign and teleported out of the room. "YOU BACKSTABBING BITCHES!!" Killer didn't realized that he raised his voice, out of frustration, until Nightmare stood behind him with a menacing glare.

Your friendship dynamic between them:

Nightmare:

Him: Doesn't want to let anyone get close to him.

You: Got close to him 💀

Dust:

Him: Sunshine protector

You: Sunshine

Killer:

Him: A dumbass

You: Also a dumbass, but smarter

Horror:

Him: Mom (Dad) friend

You: The reckless idiot

Error:

Him: Can't spell

You: Mocks his typos

Incorrect quotes:

1:

Y/N: Between Dust, Error, Nightmare, and Killer -- if you had to -- who would you punch?

Horror: No one! They're my friends. I wouldn't punch any of them.

Y/N: Killer?

Horror: Yeah, but I don't know why.

2:

Y/N: It’s not gonna work, I’m not a snitch.

Cop: Fine, let's try something else. Tag a friend you recently committed a crime with.

Y/N: Lmao, @Nightmare.

3:

Y/n: They don’t make them like me no more. I’m the last of my kind.

Error: Thank god.

4:

Horror: Good night.

Y/n: Sleep tight.

Dust: Don't let the bedbugs crawl up to your ear and whisper threatening things that make you question yourself.

Nightmare: Great, now Killer's crying.

5:

Dust: I wish I was a cat, but not in a furry kinda way, more like a “I can sleep all day and hit people with no consequences” kinda way.

6:

Error: We can't lose. Because we have this. *points to his chest*

Y/N: We have a soul?

Horror: A soul? No, me. I'm pointing at myself. I'm going to win this for us.

7:

Y/n: I am going to cry. I’m going to cry until I can no longer physically cry anymore because all the water in my body is gone and I die from dehydration.

Killer: Are you okay?

Dust: Did you actually just ask them that? Like, you need that to be answered otherwise you won’t know?

8:

Dust: Small creatures are much more vicious because they have a smaller body to bottle up all their emotions.

Error: Ridiculous. Give me some examples.

Horror: Wasps?

Nightmare: Terriers?

Killer: Y/n.

9:

Nightmare: You have to apologize to Y/N!

Killer: Fine!

Killer: Unfuck you, or whatever!

10:

Dust: Sometimes I drink milk straight from the container.

Killer: The cow??

Horror: What?

Y/n: Killer, W H Y?

Short Headcanons:

Dust likes to share his notes he made about some Au's with you, because you find it interesting.

Killer goes to you for flirting advice, no matter how good (or bad) your flirts are.

Dust likes to scare you by popping up in front of you. (He likes your reaction)

Horror will steal your food quite frequently.

Nightmare has strictly put up a poster on his office, that's forbidding you to go in.

Error shares his popcorn with you when y'all watch movies.

It takes a long time before your movie night starts, and that's just because you're all arguing on what to watch.

Y'all aren't much up for cuddling, as a group... Aside from Killer and Horror.

I don't know, maybe I'll do part two. I really liked this request by the way. Have a nice day/night!! :D

#undertale fandom #sans undertale #undertale #sans x reader #nightmare sans x reader #dust sans x reader #killer sans x reader #error sans x reader #horror sans x reader

[cupid-styles]

omg ok so blurb idea for ginger ale bc u said u needed inspo

i know u kinda already touched up on this in the main story but what if mias like completely drained from school like its exam season and she has to study but shes also somehow failing classes even tho she studied and is swamped with work but cant get up to do anything bc shes panicking and stuff and idk maybe she pushes him away bc shes freaked out and hes like huh bc she never snaps at him like that bla bla and then some angst and fluff and comfort 😭

im so sorry this wasnt supposed to be that long but inspiration struck😭💀obviously u dont have to write it jus a suggestion

omg LOVE THIS!!!!! here's a little something for you :))

word count: 1.7k

content warnings: angst (all is solved in the end), harry being a dummy, age gap romance (8 years)

based on this one-shot!

masterlist | talk to me

. . .

Harry has never seen Mia so exhausted before.

Granted, they've only been officially dating for a few months, but she's typically a relatively organized student. It's something that he's always admired about her — he can think back to his days in university and immediately remembers scattered deadlines and far too many hungover mornings, resulting in constantly missing classes.

Then again, he's never seen her during finals season, and it's apparent that she's feeling the impact of papers, exams, and one too many late nights spent studying.

Because of the nature of their lives, finding time to spend with one another without work or school is often difficult. It's important to Harry that they actively set aside an evening or two each week that's just for them. No discussion of board meetings, lectures, or any stressors — he likes to keep it simple with a delicious and filling meal, a movie on the TV (whether or not they watch it is a separate factor), and his girl nestled into his side.

But for the first time ever, Mia's texting him to cancel.

Under any other ordinary circumstance, he'd be more understanding. Truly. But it's been almost a week since he's seen her, and he's feeling... well, needy. He misses her! And he knows that distance is good, blah blah blah, but this is their time — and it feels like she's just brushing him off, as if he barely matters.

It's why he ends up calling her on his way home from work with Reese driving smoothly and calmly up in the front. Harry drums his fingers against his knee as he listens to the dial tone, a frown on his lips as he waits for her to answer.

"Hello?"

Relief washes over his chest despite her anxiety-ridden tone. "Hey, I'm heading home from work. Do you want me to have Reese come pick you up?"

She sighs frustratedly, "Harry, I just texted you that I can't come over tonight. I have to study."

"You can't give up a few hours to spend with your boyfriend?" he fires back, an accusatory edge to his voice, "I've barely seen you lately."

"You've been in school before, H, you know how stressful exams season is. I need to do well."

"Mi, you're the smartest person I know, you'll be fine if you take some time away from—"

"I won't be, actually," she suddenly snaps. "I'm already failing one of my most important classes and if I don't get at least a B+ on the final, I'll have to retake it next semester. So no, I can't just slack off for a few hours, I need to study, Harry."

Immediately, he pauses. Mia has never gotten angry with him before, vice versa. And he doesn't think he's being particularly unreasonable — if anything, he feels she is — but he's mature enough to know that nothing's getting solved in this conversation. Not when she's clearly tired and stressed. Instead, he opts for the more caring-boyfriend-approach.

"I didn't know you were failing a course. Why didn't you ask for help?"

"Because you can't solve everything!" Mia exclaims, sending a pang of hurt rattling through his chest. "I need to go, alright? I'll see you soon."

With that, the line goes dead.

. . .

Even when Mia falls asleep on her couch, textbook in her lap and a highlighter between her fingers, she can't believe Harry.

The next morning, when she has a persistent ache in her neck and her back feels like it's broken in two, she knows school isn't the only stressful thing her body's responding to.

She thinks dating an older guy is great. Dating Harry is great. Until moments like this, when he somehow forgets that people — including his girlfriend — need to work to get certain things in life, and that they won't just be given an entire company a month after graduation. She doesn't doubt that he understands that on some level, but from the perspective of a partner — well, she thinks he's being pretty insensitive.

Her fingers twitch at her sides in class as she tries her best to pay attention, wanting nothing more to grab her phone from her bag to see if he's texted her. Midway through the day, though, there's still nothing. She can't believe he still hasn't apologized for how he acted the previous night, and it only makes anger fester in her chest even more.

Finally, by the time she trudges home in the cold (December is nearing, and with that comes miserable gusts of wind and flurries of snow), she's had it with his silent treatment. She's barely through the door when she decides that she'll be the one to break the tension — only, when she kicks her shoes off at the door, she notices that her kitchen and living room lights are on, and she surely turned them off before heading out this morning.

Gripping her phone in her hand, she quietly tip-toes out of the entryway, nervous that there's some sort of... homely intruder eating her snacks or watching TV. Instead, she gasps out in shock, clutching her chest when her eyes fall on none other than Harry.

"What the fuck?!" Mia exclaims, her heart thumping quickly with anxiety. "What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to see you."

She squints her eyes, feeling her eyebrows nearly shoot up to her forehead. "So you call. Or text. Not break into my house!"

"You gave me a spare key, Mia—"

"That's for emergencies!" she shouts, suddenly feeling like the living room is slowly getting smaller and closing in on her.

"But you never would've let me come over—"

"Harry, I was literally about to call you when I walked in the door. I'm still mad at you for last night! And you're only making me angrier by being here!"

Tears well up in her eyes as she spits the words out at him. She never thought she'd be in this position with him — it hurts her to even verbalize her anger.

"Wait," Harry stands from the couch, a furrow in his brows as he crosses his arms over the button-up he likely wore to work today, "You're mad at me?"

Mia stares back at him like he has two heads.

"Yes," she slowly replies. "Do not tell me you're mad at me."

His throat bobs. "Yeah. I am."

"For what?!" her anger festers in her chest all over again, exploding like an overflowing pot of boiling water.

"You— you haven't been around lately. You haven't been spending time with me or treating me like a priority."

She squints her eyes, her fingertips finding her temples as an ache begins to settle at the sides of her head. With a shake of her head, she turns around, stomping back towards the entryway of her apartment.

"You need to go," she decides, not even bothering to shed her jacket off yet, "I can't talk to you right now. You're being incredibly unreasonable."

"So you just want to walk away, then? We're not gonna solve anything, we're just gonna keep ignoring each other?"

"I was never ignoring you! I was waiting for you to apologize to me, only to find out that you think I'm in the wrong!"

Harry scoffs as he follows her down the hallway. "Well, I'm not leaving. I want to fix things. And I'm not going until we do."

"Is your approach to annoy me into apologizing?" Mia snaps.

"No," he mutters with a roll of his eyes, "Maybe we're both just being emotional."

She shrugs her shoulders.

"Do you still want me to go?"

Mia shifts her stance from foot to foot. With a noisy sigh, she shakes her head before mumbling out, "No. Let's just... talk about it."

He nods. There's a silence lulling between them as she stands with her back pressed against the wall, stubbornness apparent as she crosses her arms over her chest. He swallows and rolls his lips into a thin line.

"I'm sorry for coming over unannounced. That was very immature of me and crossing a boundary. I wasn't thinking, I just wanted to see you."

She keeps her eyes on the floor. "I just wish you'd texted or called instead. I waited all day to hear from you."

"I'm sorry," Harry repeats, his sock-clad feet taking a hesitant step closer to her, "It makes me feel stupid, how needy I can get. I know we're both busy with our own lives but I adore you, Mi. And I hate being away from you."

"I hate it, too," she mumbles, her bottom lip slightly pouted. "And you're not stupid for being needy... I just need you to understand that I'm working hard trying to get my education, and I need you to respect when I'm stressed or busy."

"I will. I'll do better."

She glances up to look at him. He looks tired, his eyes sad. With a quiet sigh, she lifts her hand to press her palm against his warm cheek. The prickles of his facial hair serve as a harsh juxtaposition from the soft skin beneath.

"I'm sorry, too. I never want you to feel like I don't care or I don't want to be with you. I just get so overwhelmed."

"I understand," Harry coos, wrapping a hand around her wrist to bring it to his mouth. He presses light kisses into her palm. "I know you care. I have to work on being more secure in our relationship."

Mia hums at his kisses, his gentle nature a welcomed change from their arguing.

"You know, you could always move closer," she murmurs with a smirk. He chuckles.

"Yeah. Or you could always just move in."

She rolls her eyes, "Then I'd really never get any work done."

"Mm, but think about how nice it'd be," he mumbles, slipping an arm around her waist to pull her closer. "I'd cook you dinner all the time, bring you snacks and tea while you study... you'd have your own office, of course. We could get a dog or a cat, too. Share a bed every night... you wouldn't have to use travel sizes of all your skincare stuff either, because everything would be there already."

She smiles to herself as she leans her head on his shoulder. The thought is nice. So nice. But they both know it's too early in their relationship, regardless of how deeply they feel for one another. Maybe it's a dream to work up to — a sweet, domestic life together.

"And you know what would be the best part?" she asks, brushing her lips up against the shell of his ear.

"Hm?"

"I'd get to use your heated bathroom floors every day."

#bestie asks #this took FOREVER #sorrrryyyy hehe #sugar daddy h #writing