#Remember that one time my own send me a pic of him ‘dead in an accident’ and i was contacted by his friend

[moonilit]

Brotherhood is you pulling an elaborate prank on your brother letting him believe he truly blinded you all this time when you can see just fine

#Diluc been grumpy all this because he realizes he been pranked lol #Remember that one time my own send me a pic of him ‘dead in an accident’ and i was contacted by his friend #100% realistic siblings relationship #This is just so hilarious #I cracked up #kaeya alberich #diluc #kaeya #genshin impact #Listen just because they fought doesn’t mean kaeya stop being the annoying little brother #It’s his duty

[thetruthaboutnolan]

WERE YOU ON LUNAR COVE?

I had to look up what that was and when I saw the group my immediate reaction was ‘ohh this place, hell nah.’ I remember checking it out some time last year and being interested and then looked at the species page, didn’t care for it, and just forgot all about it. Checking it out now, I see it has a trigger list, nope, not for me. And looking into their recent unfollows I’m already assuming someone got kicked out because the staff got harassed it ‘was me’ as that’s happened a lot in the past. Jack Fah…. Whatever, hate that guy never use him. And the other was Gabriel Basso, hot Night Agent guy…… he’s tatted and hairy…… I hate both of those things and actively don’t use resources of the face claims I do have that have them displayed or photoshop them out. But a whole arm sleeve? Way too much work to edit out. And his only resources are the same 6 scenes from the show giffed over and over. I already did a face claim that had only one source for gifs and while I loved that face. It got bored using him as I’d just keep using the same gifs over and over. You think I’d do the same with one with even less for variety? Ok

So sorry @lunarcovehq and werewolf guy (looks like they deleted their blog), you guys are just the most recent victims of the psychopath that is targeting me. Yes, it’s one person who has a habit of pretending to be multiple people at once and sending themselves anons. And she is pissy that I ultimately got ‘the man’ in our little ship war in the end. Hopefully you guys recover and have a great time after this nonsense because trust me, this girl is psycho. I’m talking pretending to be a dead friend, stealing and posting pics from facebooks of family members of someone she thinks I am, and threatening to have rolled up at their houses. Very likely a lie but the fact they thought it was ok to do that and post that shit?…. And she tries to say I’m problematic? HAaaaaaaaaa.

THE TRIGGERS STUFF?

Preemptively doing this one as I know those that don’t know me don’t know my actual opinion on them. It’s a well known fact I hate the whole ‘triggers’ thing. And don’t really believe in it in the way tumblr uses them. Do I have triggers? Yes, do I respect others people? I respect they have them, do I believe it’s stupid? Yep.

Yes, when you bring my triggers into play it does upset me but its effects have been less and less over the years. I don’t care to run and completely avoid them. It’s better to face them and deal with them in a healthy way so they don’t have power over you anymore. Running from them isn’t going to do anything for you and the world itself isn’t going to protect you from them so toughen the hell up. A lot of people don’t even use them properly. A good chunk of the people that are the ‘MaH TrIgGeRs!!!!’ Type use it as an evolution of the ‘mAh AnXiEtY’ and those people only brought that nonsense up when they got called out for their crap. Turned calling them on their own shit into a traumatic effect on them….. you got caught, cut the dramatics. Others don’t know what a trigger is.

A lot of these times they are actually just fears someone has, they are afraid of that thing. Triggers are trauma based. That’s why my triggers are rape, incest, and making fun of/under playing someone mental illnesses. I’ve been raped, twice, once by a related authority figure. And one of my grandmas and tumblr have underplayed/selectively forgotten about/made fun of my mental illnesses and my suicide attempts. Would I check out these blogs who have recently and in the past made fun of my mental illnesses? Or who openly said I deserved to be raped or that call me a failure for not properly killing my self? No, they are toxic and unsafe and I would never encourage putting oneself let alone myself in that situation. Would I have someone else screencap and archive it , then spend 30 minutes or more ugly crying while telling myself no one deserves those things because I have to relive those painful times, then slowly spread it around that this person says someone deserved to be raped and was a failure for failing at killing themselves? Then spread the image and archive? Yes.

DOES PEOPLE BEING CALLED YOU HAPPEN A LOT?

Why do you think I’m suddenly like 6 different people now according to my psycho fan? YES!!!

And it’s normally over the dumbest thing. Like I once had a witch character whose last name was O’calahan which I literally took from a bridge from GTA3. Then someone in a different group of the same genre would have a character with the name Calahan who maybe was on the same show one time that the face claim I was using was on. And that group would get harassed as it was obviously me and they had to kick me. Blah blah.

Hell I even compared the bingo card for ‘obviously Nolan’ and all the generic ‘has to be him’s were basically marked.

1) did they mention anywhere especially in their application a name I used for any character I ever had.

2) is the face claim attractive, muscled, and has good hair?

3) did the character have a job that matches their species? Example: most of my werewolves were cops, military, or hunters. All of these things have a pecking order and structure like a pack, and they all have some way to work with aspects of a werewolf. Aggression, hunting, fighting, puffing out their chests crap etc etc.

4) do they say anything I normally do. I say ello a lot and I’ve been told people get sus to others when they say it as ello is apparently unique to me.

5) does their writing in any way big or small reflect mine? This one made me laugh about the latest guy. I had to chase down his posts on other blogs then compare it to mine…….. girl, his writing shits on mine. Like this is a person who sits with a Thesaurus next to them as they type. That’s someone who doesn’t need to run it through grammar 2 times to make sure it makes sense and is readable. He’s used a lot of commas like I do, way more though.

It’s a stretch and takes many mental gymnastics to pull off. However, it seems stalkers that attack you over everything don’t care

[musicallisto]

Oh yeaaaahh haha I used to be crazy about TS3, though in the end I mostly made stories with it rather than actually played 😂

Dug up some story pics for you from 2014 😄 The story was called "Sininen Ruusu"/"Blue Rose" and I was extremely proud of it. Basically it told about a school bully, Crista, who had a difficult relationship with her father (because he was out of town a lot because he was a highly respected businessman) and then she fell for this shy, quiet boy, Noah, and her friends tried to bully him which ultimately made Crista realise how she had been and slowly became a better person. Noah was shot later in the story and her father ended up brain dead because of that same guy (he was obsessed with Crista) who shot Noah, Noah lost his memory and thought Crista is still his bully which ofc created more drama, then Crista got to know who's the shooter and the chapter ended there. Then one of my piggies died suddenly and I ended the story and deleted the blog in a wave of emotion (regretting it deeply til this day, I only have half of the first part's pictures too 😭 The whole story as text still exists but pictures are gone), but Crista would have went to court with the guy who shot Noah and killed her father and then work with Noah so he'd remember her or at least start to trust her/believe her and in the end Noah would have got his memory back and they would have lived happily ever after. (Hshshsh I just realised, they never changed clothes and it was that way with everyone's stories???)

Also dug up some of my sims I'm still proud of and who often were side characters in my stories:

Also my last selfsim (made her for my 21st bday):

I decided to leave the community at the end of 2016 though because there was a loooot of drama. Not Simblrs though, they were always supportive and I never got one single anon hate message, only praise, but I left the Simblr world earlier than I left the Finnish community because I felt like my English is not good enough + I felt insecure of my sims and compared them to everyone else's sims all the time. People enjoyed my scenery pics and I got a lot of notes on my scenery collages (like hundreds, one of them got almost 5k) but never on my sim collages which made me overthink it. The Finnish sims story community on the other hand had full of unsupportive pricks and cynicism bloomed. I was mostly hated because I almost never finished my stories because my mental health went in huge waves at the time and I deleted blogs out of nowhere in a whim of emotion.

But I also got 3 friends from there who are my friends to this day, actually we're going on a lunch date with one of them next Tuesday 😄

(Also one scenery pic, only one because it won't let me add more than 10 per post/ask)

And yeah, maybe I should try 😄 I'm not sure if I want to go through the bug and crash fight with TS3 though, I uninstalled it a while ago because it just took space from my PC because I never felt like fighting with it and installing with my internet speeds will at least take 24 hours.

Also despite me not really liking TS4, I own almost all expansion packs, stuff packs and game packs because a while ago someone literally got angry at me for not liking TS4 and gifted me all of them which were released at the time because she wanted to "prove that TS4 is superior" and then just blocked me??? That was really weird 😂😂 But might give that a try too and try to create a sim/decorate a house/give makeovers to Maxis-made sims and houses, I'd just have to go on a grand CC hunt which I don't really enjoy.

omg all these screenshots are really sending me back in time when I used to write sim stories with TS3, I shall never forget that time... looking back it was so cringe askdjdjdjd but I had a good time still

and your screenshots look amazing! mine were really crusty because I figured out how to use Poseplayer really late, and when I eventually did I went crazy and downloaded every pose I could find lmfao,,, here are some of what I could find in the caverns of my old folders (she was the MC from this massive TMR Newt fanfiction I wrote in like 7th grade, I was obsessed with her but please go easy on me, this was 2013😭):

also, I scoured the old Sims 3 blogs I would occasionally post on in 2014-2015 (this is unearthing middle school relics I didn't want to remember asjdjdjdj) and dug probably deeper than any normal person would've, but I can't remember the name of the particular blog I posted on! I remember doing a Legacy challenge (?), I'll try to look deeper and find it!

#jenni 🏔 #long post

[thefanficmonster]

Love For The Faceless

Corpse Husband x Youtuber!Reader(Female)

Warnings: Swearing

Genre: Fluff 

Summary: Y/N is a YouTube gamer who has recently gained a much larger following thanks to the streams she does with her friends. Naturally, considering her faceless and bodiless nature, people are starting to get curious about her. When she finally follows her friend Corpse’s example, a lot more than her hands is revealed.

Requested by anon, you know who you are 😉 Thank you so much for placing a request and hope this fic fulfills the expectations you have for it.

“Hey!“ I greet the lobby as I finally hop into the Discord call after quickly saying ‘hi‘ to my audience.

I’ve been a YouTuber for four years now and I’ve only recently started streaming, encouraged to do so by my best friend Rae. She’s the one who got me in multiplayer games such as Among Us and Phasmophobia which led me to meet her amazing gaming squad that consists of some of the most famous names on the platform. They are all wonderful people and I will forever be in Rae’s debt for introducing me to them. However, becoming friends with Felix, Sean and the rest of the team brought not only a more fulfilled life, but also a small boost in following. Who am I kidding, it wasn’t small. It was overwhelming, terrifying even.

My YouTube channel had a little over a million subscribers at the start of quarantine and now....now it’s closer to three million. Speaking of three million, I’m about to reach it any day now and it’s really hard to believe. I’m a gaming youtuber and I’ve never considered changing my genre despite expecting to not get any attention whatsoever, with all the big names on the platform. I was convinced not even as many as a hundred people would stumble across my videos and now here we are.

My OG subscribers are very supportive of my sudden growth and are defending me when my newer fans ask for a face reveal or whatnot. While we’re on that topic I might have to mention that not even my YouTube friends, and that includes Rae have seen my face. I’ve been faceless and bodiless for the entirety of my time on social media. Some claim I do it to grab more attention or for dramatic effect, but the reason is beyond that. I’m not shallow. Actually, shallow people are the reason I don’t show my face. I’ve never been the prettiest, but my middle school bully thought that I wasn’t lacking self confidence enough. As a result, I ended up with a not so handsome scar on my right cheek that starts from the corner of my mouth and nearly misses my eye. Yeah, it’s a long and pretty noticeable scar that has thankfully become less and less obvious as the years have progressed. Still, it’s not something I’d like to show to my viewers.

Eight ‘hi’s greet me back, each making my smile grow wider. “Sorry I’m late guys. Technical difficulties.” 

“Don’t worry.“ Rae’s voice dominates over the rest, “Corpse still isn’t here so we’re waiting for him.“

I mute myself on the Discord call and take a look at my comments. I’m most flattered by the comments about my voice. Seeing as how they don’t have much to compliment about me other than my content, they make the nicest comments about my voice, personality and humor. Those comments are the ones who warm my heart most. Even when people in my day to day life compliment my appearance I can’t find it in me to believe they are being genuine. I’d like to believe these amazing people are being one hundred percent honest when they tell me they like me for who I am and not for what I might look like.

“Sorry I’m late guys.“ A deep voice causes me to even physically jolt, switching my focus from the comments to the Among Us lobby where my eyes land on the newly materialized black avatar.

“Hi Corpse.“ Rae greets him.

“Hello mister who broke Twitter!“ Sean laughs, provoking the laughter of the rest of the players.

“Yeah, congratulations man. That’s a big deal.“ Felix chimes in.

“Thanks guys, but I think you’re forgetting we’re talking about a picture of my hand.“ Corpse chuckles timidly. I have noticed how shy he gets when someone gives him a compliment - like a snail slowly withdrawing in its shell. I find it adorable.

“That’s what makes it even better!“ I unmute my mic, sending my own congratulations.

“While we’re on that topic...“ Rae begins, waiting for the rest of us to shut our traps, suggesting she has something important to say. “Y/N, do you ever plan on doing a reveal like that? Not a face reveal. Just a body part reveal.“

I have no problem talking about the subject with friends but I get nervous when I’m supposed to discuss it with my fans. Seeing as how everyone, including myself, is streaming right now, I get a bit of a stutter in my speech. “Haven’t thought about it yet. But I guess a body part reveal is harmless.” I cringe immediately after letting the words leave my mouth, “That sounds so weird.”

Rae knows that I’m not too fond of my face, but I haven’t told her about my scar yet. I let almost all people I’ve met online think I’m using my lack of appearance for effect. For the mystery of it all. Mysteries attract people which equals attention. Attention equals views and the domino effect continues.

“Just a suggestion. No pressure.“ Rae adds quickly, knowing full well I get anxious when the subject is brought up in front of cameras. “Let’s get this game started, shall we.”

                                                          * * *

The idea dwells in my mind, sitting on the back burner even after I disconnect from the Discord call. I’m sitting in my gaming chair, which was a gift for my two million milestone, and weighing out the pros and cons of the action Rae suggested I take.

“It’s a picture of your fucking hand, dummy. How bad can it turn out?“ I say out loud, shaking my head at my indecisiveness. “You’ll be fine.”

In a blur, two pictures are already posted on my Instagram. The first one captioned ‘Took a leaf from my friend’s book. Did I do it right @ corpsehusband?’ and the second ‘Thanks, Rae. These are on you.’

Rae’s POV

As I’m watching a movie in my living room, I get a notification from Instagram, informing me that Y/N has posted for the first time in a while.

I scoff, “More like the first time in forever.”

The first thing that comes to my mind is the possibility of her reaching that three million milestone that’s been long time coming. I bring the glass of water that’s sitting on my coffee table to my lips, taking a sip as I tap the notification. The picture I see makes me hurry to put the glass back down so I don’t drop it. Y/N’s hand. Her fingers are covered with several thin rings each. And here I thought Corpse had too many rings, this girl has at least two on every finger! 

Then my eyes land on the second picture she has posted only minutes after the first and my heart drops. I struggle to get the water that’s been sitting in my moth down my esophagus while my mind is struggling with the task to comprehend the picture I’m looking at. 

Another hand is resting on top of Y/N’s. A hand also covered in rings but fewer and larger. The nails are painted black. 

I think I know who it belongs to.

Before I can even finish the thought, I’m dialing Y/N. She picks up after the second ring, sound cheery as ever as she greets me. “Hey Rae!”

“Don’t you ‘Hey Rae’ me!” I practically scream. I hate being kept in the dark about anything ever so this is just driving me mad. On top of all, she’s my best friend, for fuck’s sake. “Is that Corpse in the photo with you?!”

“Ugh....“ the cheeriness to her voice is all but gone now.

I go on with my rant, not giving her the time to reply. Not that she would reply. I bet she doesn’t know what to say. “So he knows where you live?! Or was the picture taken at his place?! He knows what you look like?! You have seen him! He has seen you in real life but me, your best friend, haven’t!!! You are breaking Covid 19 protection laws to take pictures?! Are you fucking serious, Y/N?!”

There’s a long moment of silence which frustrates me even more but I literally have run out of things to yell and the power to be angry. I mean, I still am, I just can’t express it.

“Rae, sweetheart, please calm down. You’re scary when you’re mad.“ This girl has some fucking nerve! She’s on the verge of laughing!

“Listen here you...“ 

“Rae, please stop scaring my girlfriend.“ That oh so distinguishable, oh so familiar voice interrupts me.

I am flabbergasted, for a lack of a better term.

“Now that we’ve got you quiet, I can explain.“ Y/N pics up the conversation, “Corpse and I have been dating for six, almost seven months now. We started dating around Easter after talking for quite some time. We moved in together at the end of September. All thanks to you, Rae. You’re the best.” She pauses to breathe in real quick, “There, all caught up?“

I’m in no less shock than I was before she explained. Actually, I think I might be even more confused now. It all just feels like a fever dream. “Yes...no. I don’t fucking know! I need details, Y/N!”

“Details later.“ Corpse makes his presence known once again, “We’re watching Family Guy right now. Talk to you later.“

“Love you, Rae!“ Y/N calls out before the line goes dead.

My arm goes limp, dropping my phone on the couch next to me. 

“Motherfuckers” I mumble under my breath.

Y/N’s POV

It’s been a week since Rae has stopped talking to both Corpse and me. I know she just needs some time to cool off. In the meantime, the rest of our friends were informed and, as oppose to Rae, were nothing but supportive and overjoyed. I bet Rae feels the same way though. Sean, Dave and the rest of the gang have confirmed that she’s incredibly happy for us and says she noticed a spark between me and him since day one, but she can’t help but be mad at us, and especially me, for not telling her sooner.

“Any regrets?“ I remember Corpse asking me when we hung up on her after dropping the bomb.

“Not being able to see her face when she saw the picture.“ I beam at him, feeling as content as ever.

He laughs, agreeing with me before leaning down to kiss me.

@susceptible-but-siriusexual  @simonsbluee  @save-the-sky  @hacker-ghost  @itsminniekat  @bi-andready-tocry  @imtiredaffff  @jazzkaurtheglorious  @hereforbeebo  @fandomgirl17  @chrysanthykios

#corpse #corpse husband #corpsehusband #husband #corpse husband fanfic #corpse simp #corpse husband fanficiton #corpse fanfiction #corpse fanfic #corpse x reader #corpse husband x y/n #corpse husband x reader #x reader #reader #request #requests open

[blooming-violets]

🌼 <333

(not doing any more of these, just finishing up the one’s left in my ask [x]) 

omg the soft girl vibes are so strong here. and that pic of andrew? i haven’t seen that one before and that hair is making me go feral. 

this is some cottage core/ fairy tale/ olden days au 

Peter lived in the in cottage about a mile from your own. Your houses were connected with a winding dirt path through the forest. On Sunday afternoons, your mother would often make the trip to visit his relatives. She would trade some of your chicken’s eggs for their cow’s milk. Since you were a little girl, you would love to tag along in hopes they would get to talking and you could go off to play with Peter.

The two of you would run down to creek in bare feet, splashing in the water and chasing minnows, until his Aunt would ring the dinner bell to call you back home. 

This Spring afternoon, your mother thought it would be best to send you send alone on the Sunday trip. She was getting older and suffered a bad fall this winter. Her poor hip hadn’t healed properly and it was difficult for her to make the walk. She made you promise to send dear May her blessings when you arrived. 

It had been too long since you had visited the Parker’s family home with your mother. You had insisted on focusing on your studies and tending to your gardens. Your teenage years had refocused your priorities. You were not a little girl who liked go play childish games in the forest anymore. You were a refined young woman. 

The walk was familiar. If you listened closely, you swore you could hear the ghosts of your childhood laugher echoing out of the forest trees. You tucked the basket of eggs closer under your arm and found yourself with a little skip in your step the closer you got. 

His cottage was beautiful. It was covered in lush, green vines and the roofs peaked into lopsided points. His uncle had built the home entirely with his own hands before he passed. You always found it to be quite charming. 

You rapped twice on the wooden door but received no answer. You took note of the fact that one of their horses was gone. Maybe they had left for the day. You’d just have to leave the basket for them and return tomorrow.

“Can I help you?” 

The voice floated out from the barn. A smile grew when you saw him again. It had been so long. He was no longer a young boy just like you were no longer a young girl. “Peter Parker? Tell me that is not the same little boy I used to build fairy houses with in the forest.” 

A smile spread across his face and he wiped his sweaty brow with the handkerchief in his breast pocket, “Well, well, well if it isn’t my favorite neighbor. I thought you might have been eaten by wolf seeing as you stopping your weekly visits years ago. I just assumed you’d been dead.”

You skipped over to him, your dress blowing in the wind, and your eyes glistening with joy at the reunion, “I’m afraid not. I’m far too bitter for any wolves. Is May home?” 

Peter shook his head, “Sorry. She’s off visiting relatives. She won’t be back for a while. I’ve only got myself and the cows for company for the next week or so.”

That wouldn’t do. You decided to spend the evening with him. After cooking him up some late lunch, the two of you roamed around May’s garden while you took note of all the growing vegetables. Something about Peter made you get a funny feeling in your stomach. The longer you spent with him, the harder you found it to look directly at him. He was very handsome. He was tall with broad shoulders. The muscles rippled under his shirt, no doubt from all the physical labor he grew up doing. He was very much someone you found desirable. 

The back of his hand would bump against your while you walk. Each time your heart would flutter. He made you feel a bit faint.

“Do you remember our old fort?” He asked, his face turned up towards the blue sky to admire the soft, pink clouds. “The one we built near the creek?”

You nodded, “Of course. How could I forget? It was only our pride and joy as children.”

“Well...I was taking a walk the other day and it’s still there. I took it upon myself to clean out the spiders that had moved in and scare away the mice but it’s still holding strong. I think we should go check it out.” 

It wasn’t long before you were chasing him through the mossy forest towards your old stomping grounds. Whatever childish attitudes you claimed to have lost clearly had never truly left. The moment you laid eyes on Peter again, they all came flooding back. A light laugh burst from your lips as you ran after your friend. Your hair flew back behind you in the wind and the air filled your lungs. You felt alive. 

You came crashing to stop, bumping into Peter’s strong back, when he suddenly stopped running. He turned around and reached for your hand as you stood in front of your old stick fort. He was right. It hadn’t seemed to have moved an inch from it’s original build. If it wasn’t for the dirty, tattered bed sheet blowing in the breeze to act as the door, you might even think that it had been built just this morning. You remembered all the adventures you and Peter got up to hidden away inside. Your minds had been so vast back then. 

“Shall we go in?” He asked. 

You held your breath when you entered. It was much smaller than you remembered. In your memories, you and Peter had so much room to play. Now, you two stood hunched over and pressed together, hardly able to move an inch. “Was it always this tiny?”

He laughed. A beautiful, delightful laugh. “Have a seat. Should I seve you some tea?” 

He grabbed a hollowed out piece of wood and handed it to you. You remembered how you and Peter each had your own “tea cup” as you would call them. He pretended to pour imaginary liquid into the wooden cup, “There you go, miss. Be careful. It might be hot.”

You gave it a little blow and pretended to take a sip, “Ah. It’s as delicious as it was when I was eight.” The two of you shared a quiet a giggle. You peeked your head out the little window Peter had cut into the sticks so many years ago. It looked out onto the flowing creek and a bed of wildflowers covering the forest floors. “This whole place is more beautiful than I remembered.” 

“Really?” he whispered. “I always thought it was you who made it beautiful. Like you were made of magic and everything you touched came to life with beauty. I really missed you. Please don’t go away again.”  

#tasm #the amazing spiderman #tasm x reader #tasm au #peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker au #tasm peter parker #tasm peter x reader #tasm moodboard

[youngbloodslut]

celebrity crush | 2/??

a/n: the first interview is mostly based off of dove cameron and ava max’s interviews with popbuzz

summary: actress! reader somehow manages to bring up her crush on calum hood in every interview

pairing(s): calum hood x reader, platonic! reader x tom holland

warning(s): swearing? slight mentions of kinks

“She’s at it again mate,” Ashton smirked as he carried his laptop over to Calum who was sat on the sofa. He flipped open the computer and hit play on y/n y/l/n’s newest interview.

“C’mon, I don’t wanna-” Calum rubbed his hand over is face and shook his head.

Ashton ignored him and turned up the volume to drown out his protest. “Shhh.. watch.”

“Hey guys, I’m y/n y/l/n and this is the Pop Buzz Tower of Truth.” You spoke as the title popped up on screen.

“I think I’m gonna end up tipping it before I can even get one block out,” You said as you tried to carefully pull of a wooden block. 

“That will never work,” Calum heard a voice from off camera say and recognized it as Tom Holland. He tried not to frown as you laughed and mocked him.

“Y’know what, we’re leaving that one.” You laughed, leaving the original block alone and easily pulling out another block.

“There we go. Okay, what was the last movie or tv show that make you cry? Dead Poets Society. I love Dead Poets Society so much and Tom had never seen it so we watched it after finishing yesterdays interviews.” You placed the block on top of the tower. “And he cried.”

The camera crew laughed as Tom shouted a, “Hey!”

“Tell us one thing about you that we don’t know. Um, this is hard because I’m always saying stuff that I shouldn’t be. Um, I’m an Oxford comma worshiper.” You said, unsure whether or not that’s interesting enough.

“Oxford comma?” A crew member behind the camera questioned.

“Yeah, y’know, the comma that comes before ‘and’ when making a list. I hate that people don’t use it because then I get all confused. Like if I were to write ‘Lizzie, Tom, and Robert are going to the party’ and I don’t add a comma before ‘and’ then it seems like Tom and Robert would be arriving at the party together. But some people who don’t use the Oxford comma could mean that all three people were showing up separately so I never know. Y’know what I mean?”

The camera crew were all silent after her rant and Calum chuckled a bit to himself. He thought it was cute that you were so passionate about the smallest things. Ashton looked over to him as Calum admired you through the screen. He wasn’t an idiot. He knew Calum secretly liked how much you talked about him.

“No,” Tom responded honestly

“Ugh,” You rolled your eyes dramatically and looked into the camera, “See, these are the type of guys you got to look out for: Un-grammarly men.” You joked.

“Un-grammarly isn’t a thing.” Tom laughed.

“Well if it were a thing, you’d be one.” You fired back at Tom.

“Anyway, who is your favorite artist right now? Um, probably Wallows, I love them and their music.”

“I was really expecting Calum Hood to be honest.” Tom shouted from across the room.

“Oh my god, I can’t believe I just forgot about him like that. I love you Calum Hood. I love 5sos.” You held up your hands into a heart shape and moved your hands from side to side. 

You then dropped them and grabbed another block. “Sorry, I keep forgetting that people are actually going to see these interviews. Like, he could literally see this. Dude, I hope he doesn’t.” You paused, “Oh god, do you think he knows about my crush on him?” You had been mentioning him for years and it had never once occurred to you that he could actually see these. 

Calum laughed at the irony of the situation. Here he was watching a video of you saying you hoped he’d never see said video.

“This is humiliating.” You mumbled though you didn’t seem to actually care, “Who was your first celebrity crush? Oh uh, definitely Andrew Garfield. I remember when I first watched the Social Network and I was like obsessed. My friend and I both watched it over 10 times within like two months. And then would continuously make Mark Zuckerberg jokes. But of course, Calum Hood now owns my heart.” You put the block on top of the tower. “I’m actually doing really good, I thought I’d knock it down by now.”

“Describe in detail the worst date you’ve ever been on. Okay so I was like fifteen right, and, well I’m not even sure if this counts as a date. I think he considered it a date so I guess it was but basically we were in the car, he was sixteen so he could drive. We were in the drive through, we had already ordered, and he started feeling around in is pockets and I was like oh god, cause I knew what was about to happen. He was like, ‘oh no i think i lost my wallet’, and I was like its fine I’ll pay. I really didn’t mind. I ended up paying, we got our drinks and without missing a beat, we hadn’t even pulled out of the drive through, he was like’oh here’s my wallet.’ I really didn’t mind paying for my coffee, I wouldn’t mind paying for both of our coffees. But him going out of his way to lie, and then not even lie well, was so irritating.” She placed the block on the top and picked up a new one.

“What is the most useless idem you’ve ever purchased? Um, I bought a seven foot giraffe while I saw drunk once.” The block was added to the top, the tower now taller than you. “He’s in my living room if you wanted to know.”

You grabbed the next block carelessly, immediately regretting it when the tower fell behind you, “Oh shit, well I guess we’re done then.” You said nonchalantly, looking at the blocks on the floor. “I don’t think I’ll be playing this again anytime soon. Love you guys,” You held up your hands, “Love you Calum Hood.” You winked before the outro began to play.

“She must really love you, Cal.” Ashton poked Calum’s cheek annoyingly, “She’s got no shame.”

Calum wouldn’t admit it, but as soon as he got home he looked you up again. He clicked on the same video Ashton showed him and scrolled through the comments. 

y/nscalumhoodkink: MOMOMOMOMOMOM

datemey/n: Queen of Jenga

ashtonfletchersbitch: Y/N LITERALLY IS ME

5esohes: no because y/n y/l/n and calum hood together is my kink

noemptywalletshere: not only does y/n own this fandom, but my ass too

He couldn’t help but laugh at the comments no matter how interesting they were. But something in the back of his head kept yelling at him. She doesn’t acting like you. Shes just likes your music, nothing more. He sighed and clicked out of the video and was about the close his laptop when his cursor handed on a video. 

Y/n Y/l/n foaming at the mouth while talking about Calum Hood for 5 minutes straight.

He clicked on it a little too quickly and waited for it too load. 

“Calum Hood choke me challenge.” You stuck out your tongue and threw up a peace sign with an innocent look plastered on here face. 

“Bro imagine if Calum Hood saw this?” “Oh he would definitely fall for you after this video”

The third thing to pop up was a tweet from 2015 just saying: #marrymecalumhood

“Calum Hood send me hand pics. This is a demand, not a request.”

Calum continued to watch the entire video. Normally, the thirsty comments would have made him uncomfortable, but them coming from you made his heart race and cheeks flush.

God, what was happening to him?

#calum #calum hood #luke hemmings #ashton irwin #michael clifford #5sos #5sos imagine #calum hood x y/n #calum hood x you #imagines #calum hood x reader #5sos calum #calum hood 5 seconds of summer #marvel cast #marvel #tom holland #interview #luke hemmo #tom holland x reader #cal pal

[dr3amofagame]

consider- after the whole "reviving Tommy" thing comes in and does the whole pic thing again- but this time dream lunges for the pic, trying to grab it from sam, and they fight for it, and sam ends up stabbing through dreams left eye, far enough to kill him. dream respawns blind in that eye.

ooh anon ,, this is such a good prompt but . *head in hands* MAN,, half-blind c!dream living in my head rent free. on one hand, narrative parallels! and on the other hand ,, pain. so, so much pain.

anyway, have this quick ficlet set in current roommates arc! 

tw: EYE TRAUMA, GORE (in ask), implied torture/abuse, violence, mentioned child death, injuries, trauma, prison arc, pandora’s vault, dark portrayal of c!sam

Techno is pacing around the cell for something like the fifty-third time after sending Draem to break the obsidian when Dream snaps, neck twisting over to look at him with the one eye exposed by the cracked edge of his mask narrowed in a rather unthreatening glare.

“Will you stop that?” he hisses, and Techno hesitates, shrugs.

“I dunno,” he says simply, walking back to the bell. He raps his knuckles on it once as he passes, humming at the wave of new channel member and one of us from Chat as the echo subsides. “I’m not going to lie, Dream, there’s not exactly much to do here.”

“You think I don’t know that?” Dream’s voice drops, for a second, from that over-tense harshness the guy refuses to give up, becoming softer around the edges, more casual than meant to rile up and provoke. Seconds later, his jaw tightens, and he looks away to stare back at the block, humor gone. “Figure out something else to do. I don’t care.”

“Hmm,” Techno makes a considering noise before pacing back to the bell and letting the back of his hand meet it with a quiet clang. “Nah.”

Dream makes an irritated, wordless sound of frustration, but otherwise does not stop in his chipping away at the obsidian block. Techno watches him as he circles around - the line of his lip, from where it peeks out behind the mask, is flat and slightly downturned at the corners, speaking of his frustration, but otherwise he seems mostly relaxed. Techno steps forward, stopping in his tracks at the opposite side of the cell when the other man’s posture tightens suddenly, shoulders rising to his ears, chin ducking to his chest. The smiling face of the side of the mask that hasn’t been shattered stares at him from behind a curtain of matted hair. Techno steps back, watching when he swings over to Dream’s other side and he relaxes again, shoulders falling, muscles untensing, and frowns.

Usually, people have a weaker side when fighting - it’s something he’d become especially adept at picking out in fights, giving him an edge over his opponent. Personally, he’s relatively ambidextrous, easily able to maneuver around and wield a weapon on both sides, and the versatility has proved to be a valuable asset on the battlefield. As a shield fighter, Dream isn’t offered the same flexibility when it comes to switching hands, but Techno remembers being impressed by his range of movement anyway - unlike most, who fail to properly wield and move around the awkward weight and shape of a shield in their non-dominant hand, Dream’s movements were fluid, unbroken. He wielded the shield almost like a second sword, not simply blocking hits as much as he would catch and redirect them in a way that benefited him most. He hadn’t had a weak side, from what Techno could remember of their spars, despite the specialization, he met every thrust and strike on either side with an easy movement and laughing air.

Once again, Techno paces until he’s entirely on Dream’s left side, watching him all the while. Once again, Dream tense with every step he takes towards the opposite end of the cell, ending with hunching over himself significantly, jaw clenched and tight.

“Are you hurt?”

Dream flashes a look at him, unimpressed, and yeah. That’s fair - it was a dumb question; the other man is absolutely littered with cuts and bruises on every visible inch of skin, obviously malnourished and even more obviously marked with a patchwork of pale, pinkish scars. Techno huffs at Dream, still watching him incredulously, and gestures at his crouching body.”

“Well obviously I know you’re injured, but you’ve been really jumpy around your left side, man. You haven’t been hiding any life-threatening injuries under that jumpsuit, have you? It would be really awkward if you just dropped dead one day, I’m not gonna lie.”

Dream goes still, before shaking his head slightly with a harsh puff of air.

“Figures you’d notice that,” he mutters, almost to himself, before turning to look at Techno with a small, tight-lipped smile. “Nothing gets past you, huh?”

“Well, I wouldn’t say nothing…”

Dream laughs, short and without humor. His hair swings in front of his face, and Dream ignores it as he goes back to chipping at the obsidian. Techno winces, sensing that he’s hit on a sore spot, and backs off, presuming that the other man is done with the conversation.

“I’m blind. In my left eye.”

Or not, apparently.

“Uh,” Techno rolls his shoulders back, trying to catch a glimpse at Dream’s face underneath the mess of his hair and his mask keeping it out of sight. “I’m guessing that’s a recent development, then?”

“Mmhm,” Dream goes back to the obsidian with seeming renewed determination. Techno sighs, waving away the curious chants and questions from Chat blind? Teletubby blind? Not pog. Is that from quackity? E e e e and battling his own awkwardness to figure out what to say next. Gee, thanks for the bombshell, Dream. You sure know how to make a conversation uncomfortable.

“Is it from Quackity, then?” He asks, finally, remembering the scar that had clawed across Quackity’s face, a large, ragged thing from the rough edge of a pickaxe. It had been a harsh death, not that he’d thought much of it at the time, and the clear remnants of it on Quackity’s face and in the newfound fogginess of his left eye seems all the more relevant here, with Dream’s newest revelation. He’d hardly put it past the man to take someone else’s eye as revenge, even if Dream hadn’t been the one to ruin his vision in the first place.

“Nope, surprisingly,” Dream seems to shrug, popping the ‘p’. “Was from Sam, actually. He got mad after I killed Tommy, gave me this in return. I don’t even think it was on purpose, but you know. Shit happens. He ran.”

“Kinda sounds like a garbage warden, I’m not gonna lie.”

“He probably could’ve fixed it, if he bothered getting a regen. He didn’t, though. He left basically immediately after, didn’t come back for weeks. Bastard. Left me in here with the child for another few days- what an idiot.”

“Doesn’t sound like the smartest decision,” Techno says, finally, and Dream laughs slightly before going back to his obsidian. Techno watches him for a minute, before going back to their bell, carefully feeling along the smooth surface.

“You want to see?” Dream says, suddenly, and Techno’s head snaps up.

“Uh,” he flounders. “I guess?”

Dream’s hands go to his mask, trembling slightly as he unfastens the buckle in the back. Techno thinks he’s seen Dream without the mask fewer times than he can count on one hand, watches silently as he eases it off to look him in the eyes. His cheeks are pale, gaunt, eyes startlingly wide. There’s a cut still healing along his right cheekbone, a bump along his nose bridge from where it’d been broken, before. A small, thick scar rises from his left eye socket, and the eye within it is glassy, unseeing, paler as if covered by a slight film. He looks tired, shadows under his eyes, slightly scared. If he’s being honest, he looks young, human. Very, very human.

“When we get out,” Techno says, keeping his voice light as Dream goes to fasten the mask on his face again. “I’ll get Phil or someone to make you an eyepatch, or something. Really sell the whole homeless schtick you’ve got going on.”

“Techno,” Dream starts, exasperated, and Techno grins.

“Or maybe a pirate is more fitting. You like pirates? You know, if you have a ship, you won’t be homeless anymore-”

“You are the worst,” Dream huffs, and Techno laughs as he goes back to pacing around the cell, careful to stay on Dream’s right side.

“That’s not an answer, you know,” he continues, and Dream shakes his head.

“I’ll tell you when we get out, then.”

“Sounds good,” Techno smiles despite himself. That must be the first time that Dream admitted that they were going to get out. Guess you aren’t as hopeless as you thought, nerd. “We’ll figure it out when we get out.”

#-> my writing #my writing :D #my asks !! #-> my asks #tw eye trauma #tw gore #tw violence #tw torture #tw abuse #tw child death #tw death #tw trauma #prison arc #pandora's vault #c!sam critical

[moominnyu]

relationship headcanons [kevin moon]

🎀🧸 — pairings: kevin moon (the boyz) x gender neutral reader.

🎀🧸 — tw: nsfw (minors dni). a teaspoon of angst.

# general ;;

☆ the beginning of the relationship was pretty uh slow

☆ i think kevin is somewhat of an extrovert and he looks like he gets along well with most people, he's definitely not the shy type

☆ on the subject of romantic endeavors, though... it's another thing entirely.

☆ he's dead scared of rejection, especially because all his life he's been the comedic relief, ‘bff’ type of friend and every single person he liked only saw him as that and nothing more. and he was terrified that that would be the case with you too.

☆ he refused to take the first step, telling himself that he needed to ‘wake up and accept reality’

☆ cue to a very, very frustrated eric.

☆ “dude, i'm telling you! it's not all in your head! they like you too!”

☆ “thank you for trying to make me feel better, eric, i appreciate it” kevin'd say and eric would try his hardest to not whack him in the head <3 true friendship right there

☆ and eric swore that he'd take matters into his own hands, that he couldn't stand to see his two best friends suffer over each other

☆ he'd send you and kevin to go get coffee or take out together, call you to hang out with him at the dorms when kevin and him are alone, and then remembering he had plans with someone else just as you got there, kick juyeon out when he tried to join movie nights that he specifically planned for the two of you, kick changmin and sunwoo out of their rooms when you're visiting and many other not so subtle ways to get you two alone

☆ by the time he devised a ‘fool proof, impossible to fail’ plan which involved hyunjae hitting on you to get kevin to cause a jealous scene, you were already impatient and frustrated enough to brazen it out and confess your feelings to kevin, much to eric's dismay

☆ “couldn't you guys wait a bit more so we could put our carefully thought plan into action? hyunjae hyung already memorized his lines and everything” -eric

☆ anyways back to kevin

☆ he's a sweetheart but that's nothing new

☆ i definitely see you two as the pam and jim from your friend group

☆ not only because of all the time it took you to get together, but also because you're somewhat of a ‘best friend’ duo even if you're clearly head over heels for each other

☆ you're like best friends who go on dates, kiss and do the *ahem* together. besties in love<3 omg

☆ i said that here but one of kevin's love languages is gift giving

☆ he's very thoughtful and has you in mind 24/7 so he's often bringing you gifts from wherever he's travelling/touring

☆ he has a knack for handmade jewelry. his specialty are beaded bracelets and eric would disagree but his fashion sense is great and he always makes you bracelets that go well with your outfits.

☆ loves, loves, loves facetiming you. he doesn't have to be halfway across the world to do it, even if he's in his dorm and you're at home, he's calling you right as he's about to go to bed and then first thing in the morning so that you can be the last and first thing of his every day even if you aren't together. screenshots randomly just so he can get a meme worthy pic of you.

☆ a fan of chill dates in any of y'alls rooms where you guys just lay in bed and watch movies/tiktoks together while eating snacks. he loves laying on top of you while you scroll through your phones and send each other tiktoks even if your fyp looks like this 👥

☆ prefers cooking for you himself than ordering take out (it's healthier and cheaper) and he even lets you sit on the counter while he works, lets you taste the sauces and munch on nuts (if u ain't allergic to them💀) while you wait for food to be done.

☆ he's always down to do whatever stupid thing you want to do, whether that is silly tiktoks like the we're linda and heather! one or another one of the millions of coach guy parodies or dramatical readings of my immortal at three am in your room (he always plays draco and you always play ebony dark'ness dementia raven way) and laughing your asses out each and every single time.

☆ has a sketchbook that he carries around specifically for sketching/painting things for you. and it's not the first one, you have multiple finished sketchbooks and scrapbooks that he made you over the years in your bookshelves.

☆ makes you playlists! he's very musically driven, and i think he's very, for a lack of a better word, sensitive to music and lyrics so i think that he often associates his favorite songs to his favorite people you much like how people associate others with colors, sensations and stuff. (some songs i think he'd dedicate to you: i hear a symphony by cody fry, kataomoi by aimer, anyone else but you by the moldy peaches, la vie en rose by edith piaf, he's my baby by noire)

☆ your parents/siblings/friends love him! as i said before, he's super easy to get along with and he's definitely the sweetheart kind of boyfriend who everyone in your family just adores because he's so attentive and kind. he gets a bit shy and kind of lingers around you whenever you visit your family, especially during the first couple of visits, but he eventually gets out of his shell a bit and dares to hang out with others on his own.

☆ calls you bro™ but like romantically

☆ your personal, a la carte podcast. you adore his voice so he's always reading for you, whether it's books, horror stories, true crime, conspiracy theories or whatever you're in the mood for.

☆ eating cereal on the floor at three a.m. in the morning when you can't sleep and you're hungry. that, or cooking a whole meal just because you saw it on tiktok.

☆ a pop culture connoisseur. you guys quote vines and tiktoks on the daily. he knows that “are you my cousin?” beyoncé video by heart and can act it perfectly.

☆ also “kevin! kevin! watch the light, dude!” -you, smacking kevin's face with a pillow.

☆ can fall asleep instantly if you play with his hair. you love doing it and definitely had the time of your life braiding and combing it that short period of time in which his stylists let him grow it out (and you were heartbroken when they cut it, but he still looks cute so)

☆ takes the best candid pictures of you when you look like an absolute mess but absolutely sucks at them when you ask him to take them for you ?? make it make sense mr.

☆ yelps like a cat if you slap his booty when he's not paying attention but sticks it out like a thot after the initial shock is gone lmao

☆ also idk i feel like i should put this out there: his kisses are very soft and gentle. he's so cute, it's like he prepares himself for it by licking his lips before he grabs the sides of your face to get your attention on him only, his lips always linger on top of yours for a couple of seconds before he's pulling away with a flustered blush and that :3 smile of his

# angst ;;

☆ oof um okay

☆ somewhat insecure. not only when it comes to other guys but more so to himself, as if he sometimes doubts that he's deserving of you, as cliche as that sounds

☆ fights aren't as common since he's big on communication but even so he has a hard time actually communicating how he feels, especially if those feelings are negative ones

☆ he's experienced people taking his words out of context before so he's scared that he'd either you misinterpret what he really means or simply saying something that could upset you. he can spend months fixated on a certain thing that upsets him without telling you about it until the cup, eventually, oveflows.

☆ he can get pretty distant when that happens, and he's stubborn enough to claim and assure you that nothing's wrong even if you keep begging and begging for him to tell you just what the heck is worrying his pretty mind.

☆ he isn't much of the jealous type but he can definitely get a bit insecure when you're around men he doesn't trust. as much as he was terrified of you rejecting him, he's terrified that you'd find someone better and leave him for them. he thinks of you as his whole world, his peak, and it's probably his insecurity speaking but he feels like you can do so much better but he won't ever find someone as good, as special as you.

☆ but it's nothing that communication can't work out. he taught you the importance of it, how speaking your mind and feelings can feel liberating, and you have all the patience and love in the world to teach it back to himself when he forgets, when he gets too much in his head that he completely forgets that you're there— head over heels for him and willing to accept him, insecurities, flaws and all, just like he does with you.

# nsfw ;;

☆ awooga woof woof bark

☆ nah tbh i think he's pretty vanilla on the woohoo department

☆ before he met you, the craziest, most scandalous thing he did was cum inside his previous partner and not wearing protection

☆ so if u a freak like me, he probably discovered most of his kinks/fetishes with you

☆ pretty open minded to try whatever you want at least once before he decides whether he likes it or not

☆ into voyeurism, likes it when you watch him touch himself and he can cum pretty fast if you guide him through it, even if you aren't touching him.

☆ he's super sensitive. he cums in his pants right there and then if you kiss his neck and palm him just right. always apologizes like crazy when you two are making out on the couch and you suddenly feel a hot, wet spot right on your crotch after a particularly hard jerk of his hips. and he's too shy to make eye contact with you afterwards, begs you to get off his lap so that he can go wash himself even though you're clearly enjoying this. (although he kind of finds it hot that you laugh at him because he can't last even with minimal friction) (or is that just me being a men degrader™)

☆ a whimperer. he isn't as vocal as others (cough younghoon cough) but he's still a bit embarrassed of his noises so he tries to keep them down, which, in turn, makes him whimper and whine the more conscious he gets about them. bites his lip or tries to kiss you when he feels he can't suppress them anymore, and ends up moaning in your mouth instead.

☆ since he cums pretty fast, he often overstimulates himself for you. he doesn't stop until he's completely sure you had your fair share as well. whether it's you inside him or him inside you (whatever you're into), he takes whatever you give him and gives as much as he has for you. he's become almost infatuated with that sting and the dull pain of overstimulation that he kind of looks forward to it each time he first cums. by the time he's reached his limit, he's panting, legs trembling, voice worn out, but still claiming he “can give you anofher.”

☆ he likes it when you order him around. nothing super heavy like “shut up bitch” or “eat me out whore” or whatever lmao but rather softer, kind of lowkey orders like “come here, baby” when you're switching positions or “keep still for me” when you're about to go down on him. it really gets his engine going.

☆ he loves having his hair pulled. actually moans when you grab it to bring him for a kiss or when he's going down on you.

☆ a pleaser. loves to go down on you or have you sit on his face, especially because he thrives off praise. your compliments, words of encouragement, pet names, literally anything that you say to signal he's doing a good job and pleasing you has his cock twitching and him whimpering.

☆ he's got in trouble with his stylists for this before but he loves when you mark him up. it's just so tempting for both of you, really, when you're kissing down his body, soft skin on display and willing to be painted by your sinful mouth, that you can't help to suck on it for longer than you should, and kevin can't help the small “please” and “more” that leave his lips. always shivers and whimpers when you ghost your hands over his thin, bruised waist and call him your pretty boy.

☆ back to him being vanilla lmao his favorite position is when you ride him. likes to be your anchor, feel you grab on his shoulders for leverage as you bounce on his cock while his hands hold tight on your waist, but also likes the whole intimacy of it, the eye contact, the proximity. it's easier to kiss your lips when you're on top, too.

☆ when it's him getting it, though, any position where he's bent over will do. one of your hand on his waist and the other on his hair to keep his face pressed to the pillow has him writhing and squirming around, his release rolling around with even the most gentle of your thrusts.

🐇🎀 — luna's notes: hii it's me, i'm alive <3 i was going to initially reject this request since i've been on a mental drought for quite some time now but i think getting to sit down and declutter my mind by brainstorming freely helped me out of it, so thank u my precious 🦊 anon <3 i feel confident that i can finish the things i have in my drafts now

also, if u don't know who ebony dark'ness dementia raven way is what are u doing with ur life. i doubt there's a soul in this site who doesn't know who this character is, but just in case: watch this video.

#the boyz #tbz #kpop x reader #tbz x reader #the boyz x reader #idol x reader #smut #kpop smut #kpop headcanons #kevin moon #kevin moon x reader

[sleep-i-ness]

Wrong Door (Sirius Black x reader)

Synopsis: Your roommate wakes you up in the middle of the night because she can’t get into the flat. Or so you think. (Muggle AU) FOR MY 500 WRITING CHALLENGE

A/N: do not follow what reader does in this in real life. IF SOMEBODY PASSES OUT DRUNK AND DOESN’T WAKE UP, CALL AN AMBULANCE (usa people i don’t know what you do. call an uber to the hospital?)

WARNINGS: Alcohol, really shitty first aid, swearing

BANG! Y/N bolted upright. Fuck, were they being burgled? She checked her watch, groaning at the time. It was 3 in the bloody morning and she had an 8am class. She swore lightly under her breath; she’d clearly fallen asleep while studying on the sofa, a textbook on her lap and an empty bottle of wine in her hand.

She wasn’t one for going out in middle of the week, unlike her roommate Marlene, so being woken up in the early hours of the morning was a common occurrence. Usually Marlene would just stumble back into the apartment, tripping over everything lying in her way. Tonight, she had clearly decided to break the fucking door down.

Y/N heard a key fiddling at the door, and she sighed. That was when the pounding on the door started. Time for her to go help Marlene out.

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” she grumbled, extracting herself from the cocoon of sheets and cushions.

The banging didn’t lessen, and Y/N groaned as black patches clouded her vision momentarily. Mentally reminding herself to grab some water on the way back from the door, she trudged over to the hallway, propping herself against the wall for two seconds as she swayed slightly. Her fingers clasped around the latch and she pulled it, swinging the door open.

“You’re not Marlene.”

“You’re not James. Did he bring you over or something?” The brunette stranger rambled, pushing past her as he stumbled into the apartment. Y/N was too taken aback to protest at first, watching the man walk in as if he owned the place. “You can close the door, y’know. I didn’t bring back a girl this time because James said he’d literally kill me if I kept him up again. What a hypocrite.”

The man reached out to hang his jacket on an empty patch of wall, staring at it blankly when it fell onto the floor. He tried again, feeling for a hook that didn’t exist and Y/N watched him confusedly from where she stood by the still-open door.

“What on earth are you doing in my flat?” She found her voice at last; his audacity was astounding!

“Your flat? Love, just because James brought you over once doesn’t mean you can start claiming our stuff,” he seemed almost affronted, slurring his words as he let his jacket be on the floor. 

“No, this is my flat that I share with my roommate Marlene. Who the fuck is James? And, more importantly, who the fuck are you?” Y/N had to admit, she was getting a little riled at this point. This drunk man had just waltzed in and begun claiming the place as if she didn’t exist.

The man opened his mouth to protest before taking a good long look at the coral walls and pictures that hung all over them. He closed his mouth, paused, and turned to look at the hall table with their tatty fringed lampshade and geometric-print table runner. Y/N could almost hear the cogs whirring in his brain as he stared bemusedly at the room.

“Fuck. This isn’t my flat. Where am I?” He seemed honestly and completely confounded, scrunching his face up.

“You’re near Kensington, we’re a few roads back from the high street and the market. This flat block is number 48-53?” Y/N gesticulated as she tried to explain where exactly her apartment lay.

She was too busy explaining to notice the queasy expression spreading across the man’s face. He shoved back past her to stick his head out her door and promptly throw up all over her front step. Disgusting. And she was going to have to clean it up! He swayed back and forth, before collapsing backwards, narrowly avoiding falling feet-first into a pile of his own vomit. Y/N contemplated just leaving him there and shutting the door on him. But she knew deep down she’d sorely regret it if any harm came to him because she refused to help him. It wasn’t the dodgiest of areas, but the nights were bitterly cold.

“Hey,” she tapped him on his shoulders, calling upon her memories of first aid and how to deal with a drunk person. He didn’t stir, even as her taps got harder and she decided to take her chances and slapped him straight across the face. She gasped as a red handprint bloomed on his cheek, yet he still didn’t wake up. Hand still stinging, Y/N grabbed his arms, heaving as she attempted to pull him inside. Managing to pull him into the living room, she gently rolled him into the recovery position, ensuring that he was still breathing and that he wouldn’t choke on his own vomit. A dead man in her living room would be difficult to explain to her flatmate.

Y/N trudged to the kitchen, dragging her feet along as she pinched her eyelids to try and keep herself awake. She just needed to grab a glass of water to help with tomorrow’s inevitable hangover and a blanket for the drunkard. Somehow, she managed to complete the task, leaving her standing over the man now covered in her biggest blanket. She knew that she should go back to her room, but it just seemed so far, her legs protesting at the thought of moving an inch. Besides, the blanket was big enough to cover the two of them without having to even touch each other, right?

Sliding under the furthest corner, she quickly curled into a ball, eyes drifting shut before her head even touched the carpet.

:.

Waking in the morning, Y/N nuzzled further into the broad arms wrapped around her, sighing as she breathed in the stale scent of cologne and whisky. Her head pounding as she tried to recall the events of the night before that had led to her in a man’s arms. She startled, bolting upright as she remembered the drunkard who had stumbled through her door. And now she was in his arms. Fuck.

Seeing the man afresh with sober eyes, Y/N stopped to appreciate that he was actually really fucking attractive. It didn’t excuse him trying to break into her flat, but it helped, now knowing she’d cuddled him all night. God, that was embarrassing. How was she ever supposed to explain to the guy on the floor or Marlene what had happened. Slipping out from under the blanket, she tiptoed into the kitchen and slumped against the counter.

Coffee, she needed coffee. Then she could think about what had happened and how to sort out the man passed out in the living room.

Y/N filled the kettle up and spooned out the coffee granules into the cafetiere, frowning when her hand came into contact with air rather than her favourite mug. Fuck. It was still dirty from last night, probably abandoned on the table with her textbooks.

Meanwhile, Sirius groaned as he twisted under his covers. God, his head was aching, and his back was incredibly sore. Remus was going to kill him if he’d pulled a muscle; he was meant to be helping him move on the weekend. His mattress was uncomfortably lumpy; he knew he needed to get a new one, but he’d been putting it off. The bobbly fabric scratched his skin as he stretched out, flexing his fingers.

Hang on. Bobbly fabric?

Sirius cracked an eye open, flinching at the bright light. As his eyes adjusted to the bright sunlight streaming in, his heart rate picked up. This was not his apartment. He was pretty sure they didn’t have such awful, tasselled cushions or green lace curtains.

Did he-? He glanced down, releasing a sigh of relief when he noticed he was still fully dressed. Okay, so not that drunk. So how the hell did he end up here?

“Here.” A girl stood in the doorway, an unimpressed expression on her face as she offered him a steaming mug of black coffee. “I didn’t know how you liked it, but I have milk and sugar if you need.”

Sirius nodded, still trying to process how he’d got here. She stared at him, waiting for something. He quickly backtracked the conversation in his head. “Oh, no, I’m good, thanks.”

He sipped at the scalding liquid, face contorting into an expression of pain as it scorched his tongue. His eyes trailed over the girl, surely he’d remember someone this gorgeous. “So,” he winced, “how did I get here?”

She pursed her lips, as if she’d tasted something sour. Okay so that had been a bad question to ask.

“You barged into my apartment, claiming it was yours, threw up on my doorstep and then passed out.”

Oh fuck. His head spun as it tried to remember the events of the night before. He did recall somewhat throwing up, but it was a blurry flash. “Sorry about that.”

She hmphed, stacking some scattered sheets on the small coffee table and collecting up dirty crockery. Sirius swallowed the coffee, grimacing at the awkward atmosphere. Funnily enough his parents had never bothered to teach him the etiquette for accidentally bursting into the wrong flat and passing out.

His phone buzzed in his pocket and he fished it out, glad he didn’t have to feel the pressure of breaking the silence anymore.

JAMES: Where are u?

JAMES: When I said don’t bring a girl back I didn’t mean go back to hers

JAMES: Ur boss called. I said you were feeling under the weather. He said u should get over ur hangover & get into work

REMUS: Why did ur boss call me to ask if we went out last night? I said no btw

JAMES: He called again; said he’d fire you if you didn’t turn up before 11. I told him u were properly ill and I could send him a pic of the thermometer. I think I got you out of that one

JAMES: Mate, I’m getting a bit worried

Shit. When was that last one from? Okay, 11:15 and it was now 11:34. Sirius tapped out a reply to James, unsure how much detail to go into. I’m alright, be back soon. Yeah, that would do. He really couldn’t deal the endless mocking yet, once they’d found out what had happened they’d never let it go. So that would be saved for when the pounding headache had finally settled down.

His phone binged again. JAMES: We’re out of milk can you grab some on the way back?

Sure.

Sirius got to his feet, groaning as the room spun, beige walls all blurring into one. Rubbing at his face, he stumbled towards the kitchen, empty mug in hand.

“Hey, sorry, I don’t know your name.” He leant against the door frame, body sagging. God he was exhausted.

“Y/N.” Her tone was bitter, and Sirius couldn’t help the pang of guilt shooting through him. She’d probably stayed up all night worried he’d attack her or steal something.

“Well, thanks for the coffee, Y/N, and for not leaving me on the doorstep. I’ll get out of your hair now.”

He placed the mug down on the counter and slung his leather jacket on. She smiled at him, but it didn’t quite meet her eyes.

Y/N trailed him to the door, holding onto it as he stepped out, raising a hand goodbye.

“Bye.”

“Thanks, bye.” Sirius watched the chipped door swing shut, sunlight glinting gold off the battered number on the door. Hm, Number 51.

:.

Y/N groaned as the doorbell went. She’d just got settled into her studying. “Marlene, did you order something?”

“No. I’m broke.” Marlene yelled back, sticking her head out of her room. Her makeup was half done, mascara brush in hand and dress round her hips. “I can’t answer it like this!”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “Fine, I’m on it.”

She tipped the papers onto the floor, ignoring the mess they made. Future her could tidy that up. Trudging to the door, she grabbed her phone off the table. So that was where she’d left it.

“Hi,” she nodded at the delivery guy. He was holding a large bunch of flowers and Y/N bit back a sigh her eyes. Probably from another of Marlene’s boys. Honestly, she was thinking of opening up a flower shop, considering the amount of flowers Marlene’s newest was insisting on sending.

“Hi, I’m looking for,” the delivery guy scanned the list on his clipboard, “Y/N?”

She froze. Huh. “Yeah, that’s me.”

He tucked the clipboard under his arm, passing her the flowers. “These are for you. There’s a card with it.”

“Thanks.”

Y/N shut the door, staring at the bunch of vivid blooms in confusion. Who on earth would have sent her these? She racked her brains for any possible romance in her life, but nothing came to mind. With her luck, it was probably her grandma or something. Not that she’d be upset by flowers from her nan but a mystery lover was much more interesting.

She pulled out the gilded card from where it was tucked into the side of the paper, scanning the words.

Sorry for breaking in and passing out in your flat, princess. Text me if you want to go for drinks at some point: +44 7xxx xxxxxx

A smile broke across her face. Maybe she’d take him up on his offer.

-

-

all hp tags: @missmulti @acciotwinz @1marvelavengers1 @samnblack @neymarlionelmessi7 @okkulta  @gredandforge @onestela@yourenotafailureoverall  @milkshakelol

sirius black tags: @holybatflapexpert @methamphetaminee @thefernandasantana @uglipotata72829 @cheapglitter @lozzybowe @persephonehemingway @blisfvlll @mads-bri @fific7 @electrasworld666 @ccosmic-illusion @anniewhoiam @20coldhearts @imcreepininyourheartbabe @whointhehellisbucky @isntmadrid @blackblossomqueen @wheezyreads @tugabooos @atomic-chickenwings @its-evita-here @inkandpen22 @Rue-123  @emilianamason @mesmerisedalien

#sirius x reader #sirius #sirius black x reader #sirius x you #sirius black #sirius x y/n #sirius black x you #sirius black x y/n #sirius/reader #sirius black/reader #harry potter fanfiction #marauders era #marauders imagine #muggle au #sleep-i-ness500

[k-s-morgan]

Hi Katrin! In reference to your previous ask about Ciels final smile of Kuroshitsuji 1, I just have to ask - why do you think Ciel is unhappy in his final moments?

I think I mentioned it a long while back in an ask I sent you (where I just dumped my ramblings about book of murder in your inbox - once again, sorry about that!) but Sebastian leaving Ciel in Paris didn't feel like a rejection to me.

Of course he senses the doubts Ciel clearly has about throwing his life away and I think misunderstands it. I don't think Ciel was second-guessing his revenge, but perhaps his readiness to die.

When Sebastian leaves him, he doesn't seem angry - that much is clear. Instead, he wishes him to "forget everything and have pleasant dreams", with a rather wistful expression on his face. And what this line ends up reading as is a bittersweet goodbye from the demon - an offering for Ciel to let go of his revenge and find happiness in the afterlife with his now soon approaching death.

I think he is disappointed because at some point he started to stop holding Ciel to human standards as he would everything else, but I also don't think he's resentful of it. Ciel is human and he can't keep expecting him not to be, so it was perhaps his fault for doing so.

Not wanting to die doesn't seem like something that would suddenly make Ciel's soul undesirable to Sebastian, so there must be another reason for him to let it go. He cannot offer Ciel life, since he knows that death is readily approaching him, but he can offer him an afterlife.

This offering almost acts as a thank you for the moments of excitement their contract had given his monotone life and I believe that is why he makes it.

He sticks around to see if Ciel accepts his offer, though already expecting him to, and is there to witness the very moment the boy rejects it. Gone is the uncertainty of Abberline's death and the Paris crisis, and Ciel, the Earl of Phantomhive, returns to him - sharper, colder, more ruthless than ever. Sebastian realises his misjudgement and returns to his side, ready for the final battle. Killing an angel. It's laughably symbolic.

I think it is at some point during this battle that Ciel fully acknowledges his feelings towards Sebastian. I completely agree with you - completing his revenge did not fulfil him. I don't think he felt victorious or triumphant from it, or even the satisfaction he might have expected from it. Like you said, he probably realises how wasted his life was in pursuing such a fate, but still understands that it was the only path he would've accepted, being who he was.

But that isn't to say he was unhappy. Just because it wasn't revenge that gave him fulfilment doesn't mean he didn't find it elsewhere. The smile he gives Sebastian doesn't read to me as bitter or condescending, but actually seems quite peaceful. And the reason for that, I think, is that he doesn't fear dying by Sebastian's hand.

Those same reddened eyes and fanged smile would be the last thing he sees – and was that really such a bad way to go? He knew how and when and by whose hands he was going to die, and not everyone could say the same. What's more, at this point, I'm pretty sure he would've realised what he was feeling for Sebastian, so I don't think he would be resentful for dying at the hands of someone he loved.

Sebastian, for him, had always represented the end. And a beautiful end at that. That's why the smile seemed peaceful to me.

He lets go of the bridge. Initially, I assumed it was a mixture of blood loss and a symbolic decision to let go of life and surrender himself to Sebastian, but from your analysis I actually think your idea about him wanting a final act of rebellion is wonderful. All Ciel really wanted was to be remembered by Sebastian, so why not send him one last gift? Let him have one last surprise before it's all over. Die on his own terms - it's a beautiful idea.

He dies in mid-air. We see the exact moment Ciel Phantomhive dies and exact moment his cinematic record blossoms from his lifeless body when the blood loss finally takes him.

It's a beautiful scene, regardless of how you analyse it and I absolutely love hearing everyone's interpretations of it since they're all so different from one another. Reading your analysis in this ask was particularly wonderful to me because it was such a different take from what I was used to. I tjust hought I'd share my view on the scene so I could hear more of your thoughts on the matter. Whether it's in literature or media, watching how the tone of a scene can change as the angle from which it is interpreted switches is perhaps one of the most interesting things you can do.

(My post about Sebastian leaving Ciel in S1 & London Bridge scene for those who are interested).

Thank you for this, I really love your asks, comments, and thoughts! I agree that Sebastian leaving Ciel in S1 wasn't a rejection - I think he was resentful to an extent (he sends Ciel several very dark looks when Ciel stops him from killing the Queen and when they are riding to the hotel), and personally, I see a mix of feelings when he's watching Ciel from afar later. He's quiet and thoughtful, and I think there is a storm of conflicting feelings brewing inside him. I particularly love your words about Sebastian being willing to give Ciel an afterlife.

As for how Ciel takes it... I think he's grimly determined to see everything through. I agree that he fully acknowledges his feelings for Sebastian at this point; I also think Ciel realizes he loves him at the very end of S1, seconds before Sebastian leans closer to take his soul. I imagine the entire life flashing right before Ciel's eyes, his adrenaline spreading through him chaotically and clearing his head in a way he's never experienced before. His reservations, stubbornness, reluctance to succumb to emotions - it's all going to lose its meaning because this is it. In a few seconds, he won't just be dead - he won't exist. I think Ciel is going to see everything with startling clarity, and he'll realize, "Oh. I love you," but of course he won't say it aloud.

I agree Ciel sees the beauty and the peace in being consumed by Sebastian, but at the same time, I see misery in him in those later moments. Sorry, I can't share gifs or even good pics right now, but here are some screens to illustrate what I mean:

I think he looks like in his darkest and saddest moments here. There is sorrow, bitterness, hopelessness in his eyes - he won, but it doesn't feel like it. Ciel always knew he was going to die and Sebastian was going to devour his soul, but now he is being proven right, it is finally happening, and I think he has mixed feelings on this. During their time together, he learned to enjoy life in his way. He enjoyed their games, being challenged, solving puzzles. He always knew it's temporary, but knowing and seeing it are two different things, and I don't think Ciel is as willing to die as he was before. The way he's startled when the Undertaker tell him he's going to die anyway even without Sebastian in the picture, Ciel's sudden burst of emotion when he tells Abberline that he had forfeited his future, his behavior afterward, how he was delaying the conclusion of their contract by holding Sebastian back - I think Ciel was re-assessing things.

This one breaks my heart in particular. In this specific moment, I don't think Ciel doesn't want to die in general, but he doesn't want to leave Sebastian. He's staring at him with emotions he never allowed himself to feel - he's ready, but he's wistful. He wishes things could have been different in some other world, that his book could have another ending, but he knows there is no place for what ifs in his life.

#black butler #sebaciel #kuroshitsuji #ciel phantomhive

[copias-thrall]

How would Mary goore react to hurting someone he genuinely cares about? I absolutely Love your writing!💕

Hello, nonny! Thank you, I love this ask!

This was going to be  alist, but it got away from me! 😅 

Enjoy 😘 

It wasn’t anything big.

Just a few of Mary’s favorite beers (the craft kind—not the shitty beer he drank on his shoestring budget), some of that chronic shit you’d scored and have been saving for a special occasion, and a VHS box set of horror movie classics.

***

Mary comes in and out of your life at will, and that was something you accepted—knowing he was As Is or not at all. And honestly—no, really—you liked that. You had your own shit going on, and being Mary’s expected caregiver was NOT something you wanted to add to that list.

(If someone else wanted to try to tame him and pick up after him, well…kudos to them. Less work for you.)

Mary showed up on your pivotal days and he rubbed your feet and always invited you out to trivia. You'd held him when he was coming down from a bad trip and listened to his grievances and gave him a place to stay when he was persona non grata at his own. And in a way, that made you always feel like #1 in Mary’s world…and that was good enough for you.

***

A few months ago, Mary had been lying on your couch, picking the label off his beer bottle.

“I’m gonna be away for a bit,” he’d said.

“Oh?” you’d responded as you’d mashed the controls on your gaming controller.

“Yeah. I mean, I’ll be around…but I got some shit going on.”

You’d paused your game.

“Bad shit?”

He’d waved you off.

“Neg. Just tryna get myself out there. Signed up for open mics and shit.”

He’d shifted, his long legs receding from around you and folding under him.

“So, like…I got my job at the bowling alley…but nights and weekends are kinda shot.”

You’d tried not to let the disappointment show on your face. You supported Mary’s dreams, and that meant not making an issue that he was finally trying to do something about them.

This wasn’t against you. It was for him.

When you’d taken too long to respond, his face had scrunched.

“But if you want—”

“It’s fine, Mare,” you’d said as you’d made yourself smile. “This is important to you, so it’s important to me.”

You’d unpaused your game.

“Just don’t expect me to not beat this game without you.”

He’d grabbed the controller out of your hands with a snarl, causing you to cry out when you died.

“Fuck the game.” His hand had fisted your shirt. “Give me a night to remember.”

You had. Twice.

***

Mary had texted you occasionally over the next few weeks—a few memes, a few drunken key-smashes, a dick pic, and 2 grainy videos of his performances for critique—but such contact was sporadic, and you’d never seen him in real-time. 

He’d blown in one night, five weeks in, with a box of pizza just as you'd been heading out to meet your crew. When you’d told him you’d made plans, he’d looked so crestfallen that you’d caved and canceled on them.

While he’d been there, he’d given you a date in 3 weeks.

“That Saturday I have nowhere to be,” he’d said as he’d chewed. “I can spend the whole day with you.”

You’d been careful not to seem too eager.

“Oh yeah? Should I plan shit?”

He’d crammed the whole crust into his mouth and had given you a doughy grin.

“Why ’’ya think I told you?”

You didn’t know what you’d expected, but when he’d had to bounce 90min later, you were still surprised. (That was hardly enough time to digest!)

“Sorry,” he’d winced. “I gotta be on a bus in 45min.”

He’d left, and you’d been too embarrassed to join your friends who were only just going to the second bar.

Having fun with your man ;) ? one of your friends had texted.

What do you think? You’d texted back before changing into your pjs and turning on Netflix.

***

So maybe you were low-key excited about your day with Mary.

Perhaps you’d spent those 3 weeks figuring out the perfect date—something that said, “I missed you,” without saying “But in a clingy way.”

Beer and horror were two things the both of you were totally into, and you knew he’d be exhausted, so it seemed perfect. You’d bought the boxed set off of eBay and splurged for expedited shipping; you’d borrowed your brother’s old dual TV/VCR from his college days; and you’d forgone your weekly Chinese takeout for the craft beer funds. (And if things got steamy, well…even better.) 

***

A few days before The Date, you’d run into Mary on the bus. You were coming home from a shift, and he was going to his.

He’d brightened and waved you over—as if you weren’t already on your way—and you’d plopped down beside him with a tired grin. You’d told him of the latest entitled asshole, and he’d showed you another clip of him on guitar.

Before your stop had come up, you’d tentatively placed your hand over his.

“We still on for Saturday?”

He’d blinked at you a few moments before grinning.

“Yeah.”

“Should I plan a whole day for us, then?”

His arm had crept around your shoulders before pulling you into him to kiss your temple.

“Yeah, why not.”

***

That morning, you wake up happy. 

Mary will be over soon.

You roll over and grab your phone.

When should I expect you? :-* 

It takes him an hour to respond. You aren’t surprised—Mary isn’t known for being a morning person—so when your phone dings, you grab it up excitedly.

An excitement that dies when you read his text. And reread. And re-reread.

not 2day 

goin upste 2 show 

You blink.

What show? Didn’t we confirm? 

yeah. got me thinkin 

why no show? 

so i chked 

i missed one 

gotta do it 

Rage blooms hot, then cold behind your eyes and down your cheeks.

But you said we had the whole day. I made plans. 

save em 

ths is impt 2 me 

We’ve had this planned for weeks. 

i thot u suprted me 

on a bus cnt tlk 

You send a few more irate texts, but he doesn’t respond, and you toss your phone across the room with a shout of frustration. You scrub the hot tears from your eyes before they can fall.

And…on paper, Mary isn’t wrong. Nothing you had planned won’t keep: movies, beer, takeout.

But…

It gives you a stark look at what you mean to Mary. He gave you this date and confirmed it. He knew you were making plans.

How long was he going to wait to tell you he wasn’t even in the city anymore?

You fight the urge to kick the VHS tapes across the floor, but you open the fridge and grab a beer. If Queen Elizabeth could have beer for breakfast, then it was good enough for you.

Once you’ve downed all eight, you move on to the jug of vodka you keep for cleaning.

When you empty only liquid from your stomach into the toilet, you grab your frozen fries out of the freezer. You roll a handful of the cold ones in your mouth as you wait for the others to crisp in the oven, and once you’ve consumed the cooked ones, you go right back to the vodka.

***

Opening your eyes the next morning is a mistake, so you take a few deep breaths and go back to sleep.

When you wake again, your heart is fluttering, your stomach turns, and it feels like there’s an ice pick behind one eye. Shuffling slowly, you make your way out to your kitchen where you take some painkillers, drink some pickle juice, and eat two slices of plain bread.

The sense that you did something awful stays with you, but you’re in no condition to find your phone and see what you’ve done. Instead, you go back to bed. It takes more deep breathing to settle yourself, but once you do fall asleep, you’re out for hours.

You don’t feel amazing when you swim to consciousness again, but you feel at least like a human being. 

Your phone is dead when you find it under the sink, and waiting the 5 or so minutes for it to charge feels like waiting to face the executioner.

It’s both better and worse than you expected.

You breathe a sigh of relief to see that there are no vague social media posts, and you didn’t drunk dial any of your friends, but…

The texts to and from Mary are ugly.

Apparently, you’d managed not to send him angry texts until he’d sent you another clip of his performing. But then the floodgates had opened.

You’d started with telling him you didn’t give a shit about the show, how he was an inconsiderate ass, and then you'd devolved into incomprehensible, typo-ridden texts that accused him of using you, that you were only something to do when he didn’t have anything better to do, that he was an entitled man-child and if he didn’t apologize, you were done.

Mary’s texts in response range from him being angry at your disregard, to heated retorts you were blowing this out of proportion (and he didn’t appreciate your “ad hominem” attacks), to a cool detachment that this wasn’t working over text and he’d finish this in person.

You put your head in your hands but are too dehydrated to cry.

***

Mary doesn’t text you again during his self-imposed time frame.

You don’t text him either, but that’s more out of self-preservation than pride. There’s no point exacerbating the situation…and you’re pretty sure there’s no coming back from this, so why speed up the inevitable?

The horror tapes taunt you every time you walk by them, and you wonder if you can return them (you can’t). You give the TV back to your brother, and when he asks you how it went, you plaster a smile on your face and say, “Great!” with forced enthusiasm you hope comes across as genuine.

The primo weed goes over to your friend’s house, and the two of you wax poetic all night about existential claptrap as you devour two cheese pizzas and a bag of bbq chips. You talk about Mary without talking about Mary, and you get a heartfelt, “Sorry, dude.”

You beat the video game anyway, but it’s mostly because you needed something to occupy your mind and less out of spite (though that’s there as well).

***

Despite waiting on tenterhooks to hear anything from Mary, you truly don’t really expect to. You know you’d been atrocious, even if it had been prompted by his careless disregard, and you know Mary isn’t really the kind of guy that troubles himself with relationships that are hard.

Not that you’re in a relationship.

So when there’s a knock on your door a week later and Mary’s behind it, you’re genuinely surprised.

You gape through the peephole in shock.

“Fuck. If you’re there, just let me in, ok?”

Fumbling with the chain, you unlock the door and crack it open.

“Mary?”

“You gonna let me in?” he rasps.

You shrug and step away from the door, and he shuffles inside. He looks around like you’ve changed anything (you haven’t), before turning around to face you.

You close the door and stare back.

He folds his arms. “Breaking up with someone over text is tacky.”

What you think is, So you’ve come to do it in person, but what you say is, “Can’t break up if you’re not together.”

He winces and runs his fingers through his hair. 

“Yeah…apparently I’ve ‘taken advantage' of you.”

This…isn’t what you’re expecting.

“I…what?”

“Can we sit down?”

You nod, and Mary sits rigidly on the edge of your couch. You curl up in the chair on the opposite side.

He rubs his palms down his greasy jeans before he speaks.

“I mean…you pissed me off, ok?”

You nod.

“But, like—you weren’t wrong, ok? I kinda knew that deep down, but I’m a dumbass, you know?”

You don’t nod.

“And I kinda bitched about the whole thing…but the resounding response was that I was the asshole.”

He angles his body toward you.

“I guess I’ve kinda been treating you like my best friend that I fuck sometimes.”

Your entire face flushes—you’d always thought you’d maybe ranked a little higher than that—and you duck your head so he can’t see the tears that you blink back.

There’s a swish of fabric, and you startle hard when Mary’s hand is at your chin. He jerks back with a Sorry.

“Shit—that’s not what I…” he blows out a breath and puts his hands behind his head before looking back up at you.

“But you aren’t, and…fuck this is harder than I thought.”

So this is it.

Waiting for him to do the deed is clearly going to be excruciating, so you take charge of this whole shit-show.

“I understand,” you say flatly.

“You do?”

“It’s ok, Mare-Mary. It’s my own fault for reading too much into it. I just…I saw what I wanted to see, I guess. I know you don’t need…” you look down into your lap, “…my shit in your life.

He makes a noise low in his throat, and then he’s squatting in front of you, his hot hands planting on your knees.

“But I want your shit in my life.”

You squint your eyes at him.

“But what I said…”

He grasps your hands in his.

“Pissed me off, yeah…cuz I wasn’t fucking thinking, ok? You’re like one of the only people who gives a crap about what’s important to me. And all I could see was you suddenly…not.”

Anger wells up in you again, and you yank away your hands.

“Weeks, Mary…weeks of you all over the tri-state area, and you thought I didn’t care because of one night?! A night you promised to me?”

He sits back on his heels. “I know…fuck. Ok? At the time, it just felt…like the show couldn’t be rescheduled. Our night could.”

Because you’re what he does when he’s bored.

You curl in on yourself.

“Shit.” He leans forward again. “Fuck, I’m sorry, ok? I’m fucking on my knees here.”

You blink at him. 

What? 

“Please, please don’t break—say we’re done.”

“What?”

“Look, we can go into my shitty fucking psychological profile on why I fuck around later…but right now I need you to know that I knew it was you before I fucking knew it was you.”

You uncurl.

“That…’what’ was me?”

He knees forward and presses your hands to his face.

“The one I wanna spend my free time with. The one whose opinion means the most. The one who was the first person I wanted to share all my good shit with. You’re the one I missed, and—after that awful fucking night—everything felt pointless because I knew I couldn’t come over and jam about it.”

“Mare—what are you saying?”

“I’m saying I’m a fucking dumbass. I’m saying I thought I was pissed at you, but I was pissed at myself for fucking it up.” He sighs. “I’m saying no fucking one was on my side and they all told me to get my shit together.”

He looks up at you with wide eyes, and for the first time, you can see how they’re outlined in red, his subtle crow’s feet more pronounced.

“So, you’re not done with me? I’m not…too much trouble?”

He shakes his head in disbelief. “What? Shit, no. I’m asking you to not be done with me. I’ll give you all the nights you want. Fucking text me, and my ass’ll be here posthaste.” He shifts up, and his thumb ghosts over your lips. “Anything to get you to give me that secret smile again.”

“Secret smile?” you ask while trying to perform the action.

Mary actually blushes.

“Uh…yeah. You get this…” he makes a motion across his face, “…when you’re giving it back to me.” His fingers shove back through his hair as he casts his eyes down. “You don’t give it to anyone else.” He rubs the back of his neck. “I’ve made a study of it.”

You’re a swirl of emotions. Mary’s apologized—has admitted he was wrong and has asked for…more—but you’re still hurt. And embarrassed.

But he’s looking up at you with wet, hopeful eyes.

“Do you…” you start carefully, “…do you know why I got so mad?”

That statement was clearly not what he was expecting, and he blinks at you a few times before nodding and looking down at the floor.

“I made a…uh, commitment…to you. And I treated it like it didn’t mean anything.”

He gives you a look like, Did I get it right? and that’s close enough—even if he’s missing some of the nuance.

You nod. “And I know I…wasn’t…the best.”

His face contorts, and your heart sinks.

“You…” he shakes his head. “You said some awful things…some hurtful shit—and it really got in my head.”

Mary gives you a complicated look.

“Shit that you’d been pissed about for a while.” He traces your knee. “Shit you could’ve said to me…but shit I should have noticed. Fuck.” He presses his forehead into your knees, and you can’t stop yourself from sinking your fingers into his hair.

He takes it as encouragement and presses into you before looking up again.

“I just kinda wanna put that whole night behind us. It feels like a fucking ouroboros of fault. And like maybe I created it. But let’s agree to like…not do that again.”

You look down at him, and his eyes search your face.

“Ok…but what does all this mean, Mare? I can’t…I need to be something to you, ok? More than just your friend.”

Mary nods emphatically, and he takes your hand and curls his into it.

“No more fuck-ups, and no one else…can we start there?”

He’s saying all the right words, but you’re still trepidatious—you know Mary, and he doesn’t like constraints.

“I…just…how can I believe you?”

He shakes his head like he can’t believe you even have to ask. He rises and awkwardly reaches out to touch your face before drawing his hand back.

“Cuz you’re important to me. I care about you, and I don’t want to lose you. Ever.”

And yeah. Ok.

#asks #mary goore #gender neutral #hurt/comfort #my writing #original post

[wonderwomanfantasy]

Love brewed

so tumblr had a meltdown and deleted this after I had already queued it so I’m sorry the ask got lost but this is a cute sero confession!

warnings: swearing

word count: 1,300 (bout)

summary:

Sero had fallen in love with you the first time he saw you. He had just moved out of the UA dorms and to his own apartment. He was excited to be out on his own finally and to be a pro making the world a better place. According to Google, there was a coffee shop just a few blocks away and he definitely deserved a nice cup of coffee after unpacking all morning. There was a light drizzle but it wasn’t anything too bad so he pulled his hood up and headed off to Love Brewed Cafe. 

It seemed like he wasn’t the only one who wanted something to drink, the little hole in the wall shop was practically full when he walked in. Sero was just pulling down his hood when you turned to look at him a big welcoming smile on your face. And his heart stopped dead in his chest.

“Welcome! Order whenever you’re ready!” you chirped from behind the counter, leaving him stunned. You were easily the most beautiful person he’d ever seen and he could feel the heat rush to his face. He nodded, not sure he could trust his mouth to do the talking. 

Sero realized he was staring and quickly diverted his eyes up to the menu. He calmed down and instantly he felt stupid for getting so worked up over just some barista, He walked to the counter and he looked back at you. Fuck. 

“Uhm just a large black coffee please,” he stammered. 

“Sure no problem! Can I get a name for that?”

“Sero,”

“Perfect, I’ll call for you when it’s ready go ahead and take a seat, er if you can find one that is,” you laughed. Sero just nodded again, hoping his red blush wasn’t too obvious. 

The cafe was crowded but he managed to find an open table near the window and he immediately pulled out his phone to text Kaminari.

Sero: cute barista a block away from my new place, I’m already planning our future children’s names and I’ve only talked to them once. 

Kaminari: Damn do they have a nice ass?

Sero: they’re behind a counter I can’t tell

Kaminari: damn :/ ask if they’re single and or if they have a cute friend

Sero: I m not going to harass them at work

Kaminari: pussy

“Black coffee for Sero!” you called making him jump, he quickly ran up and got his drink before going back to the small table he staked out. 

He looked down at the cup, at his name written in your cute handwriting, and remembered he didn’t even like black coffee. 

Sero went to Love Brewed every day, it just became part of his routine, He didn’t always see you, but he made the most out of it when he did. It was a lot easier to talk to you after the first day and as it turned out the two of you had a lot in common. 

You were a college student about his age and worked part-time here to help pay for classes. You told him about your quirk about your family about the school, everything, and Sero loved to listen. 

If it wasn’t  busy and you didn’t have anything else to do you would come to sit with him while he drank his coffee, otherwise Sero just leaned against the counter while you talked. 

Every time he got the chance to talk to you Kaminari was the first to know about it, Sero was sure that he was getting sick of hearing about you, and Sero’s refusal to ask you out but Hanta really didn’t mind playing the waiting game. 

“Wait so you’re really a hero? That’s so cool! Why did you never tell me, we have a Hero discount you know?” you asked amazed. Sero Shyly rubbed the back of his neck. 

“It never came up, besides I don’t mind paying full price,” he said with a shrug. You pushed him playfully making him laugh

“I can not believe you let me rant about my dumb professors when you probably have all sort of crazy hero stories!” you shouted. Sero could practically hear Kaminari screaming in his ear to brag, brag like his life depended on it. So he did, He liked watching your eyes go wide as he talked about some of his more dangerous fights. 

“Wow that’s incredible,” you said breathily, 

“Well, if you ever need a hero to do some saving I guess you know who to call,” he teased 

“How am I supposed to do that when I don’t have your number,” you said and again he could hear the Kaminari in his head screaming. 

“We can change that,” he said. You shoved your phone in his face almost before he had a chance to finish. 

“Is it alright if I text you for nonemergencies?” you asked

“Of course,” Sero said a little too quickly. 

“Then I will,” you promised. And you did, later that night he got a text from an unknown number with an image attached. 

Unknown: staying safe hero boy? Also here’s a picture for my profile. 

Then you sent a cute selfie of you sitting on your couch in a big sweater. 

Sero: cute

(y/n): thank you thank you I try

(y/n):  do I not get a selfie back?

Sero: give me a minute it just got out of the shower

(y/n): 👀👀👀

Sero paused for a moment, He could send you a shirtless picture, that’s what Kaminari would do, but that might be too forward, wouldn’t it? There would be no denying it was flirting, it might ruin your friendship.  But that’s what he was doing right? Flirting. Every time he complimented your work uniform or made you laugh it was because he liked you right? Sero went the coward’s way.  

Sero: perv. 

He threw on a shirt and snapped a pic to send back. He still looked good, his hair was wet and hanging in kind of a sexy way and his skin was flushed was kind of hot, so he sent it. 

Sero: for you

(y/n): cute

Sero ended up texting you a lot more than he thought he would, every morning the first thing he did was check his phone to see if you had texted him in the night and if he had a spare moment during patrol he’d send you a picture of him hanging upsidedown from a lamp post and you texted him when you were bored in class. It made his heart pound every time. 

“Just ask her out already,” Kaminari groaned leaning over Sero’s shoulder reading the texts. 

“Fuck off, I’m working on it,” Sero grumbled. 

“What’s holding you back? They’re single, right? Just do it!” Kaminari barked. Before Sero could snap back an alarm went off and both of them were too busy to think much about Sero’s love life. 

What was holding him back anyway? He liked you. A lot. So much in fact that he hadn’t even thought about someone else romantically since the two of you met, and it seemed like you liked him too. At least you were always up to message him and unless he was reading too much into things it seemed that your smile was just a little brighter for him than anyone else. 

Of course, he knew the answer. He was scared. Sero had never been anyone’s first pick why would he be yours? He was used to rejection at this point but that didn’t make it sting any less. He didn’t want to ask you out only to see a sour expression cross your face when he told you that he loved you. But he should still tell you. 

Sero argued back and forth with himself until he decided. He was going to tell you the next time he saw you, no backing out. 

“Hey Hanta!” you greeted cheerfully when you saw him come through the door. You already had his regular ready for him. He smiled and greeted you at the counter paying for his drink and taking the cup. 

“Your shift ends at three today right?” he asked

“Yeah, why?”

“If you’re not doing anything I thought we could go out together and do something fun,” He said trying to sound casual even though his heart was beating out of his chest. 

“I’d love that Hanta,”

#Sero Hanta #sero hanta x reader #sero x reader #sero x you #my hero academia #my hero acadamy #my hero academia imagine #my hero academia head cannon

[physicalturian]

[18+] Words of pleasure - Law x F!Reader - Part 2

[No spoilers] [Modern AU - College AU] [She/her pronouns used for the reader, no physical description; Everyone +18] Words : 5016 Archive of our own

Warning : Consensual BDSM / Power play / Dom/sub Dynamics / Cybersex / Stranger / Flirting … If you feel like I should add more warnings, send me a dm or and ask

-- Part 1 -

The heat of two bodies against one another. Skin upon skin, fingers grazing tenderly. Hands gripping suddenly, forcefully yet securely. I am holding onto dear life on his broad shoulders. My nails digging inside the skin. It makes him grunt in pleasure. I can’t hear it over my own sound of pleasure. My head lolls back, my neck is being attacked. Bites, kisses and words against it. My entire body is aflame. I’m now holding onto the bed head. I’m not surrounded by darkness anymore.

 The landscape has changed, I’m not on my bed. It’s a hospital bed. No one is around, someone is on top of me, I can’t see their face. But it feels good. Hot breath against my skin, soft hands on my hips. The increasing pressure inside-

“Hey wake up! If you want to ride with me to campus, you better get your ass out of bed.” I was startled awake by one of my roommates who seemed on edge. From what my brain understood, I was late and from the look on her face, she was pissed.

 Squinting my eyes at the sudden light from her brusque action of opening the curtains, I groaned. Her heels hitting the floor made my ears ring, it was too much too quickly but I wasn’t going to say anything. The ginger girl was stopped dead in her track by a hand on her shoulder, a softer voice spoke, “Come on Nami, look at her. Clearly, she went to sleep late again, give her some time to clear her head.” Robin said a lot calmer. With a small smile, she gave me a nod and pushed Nami out of the room.

 “You have ten minutes at best, hurry up. She has plans today.”

“And I am hungry, could you make me a sandwich while I get dressed Robin?” I asked with the softest pleading eyes I could manage at this hour. She smiled knowingly in return and nodded, but did not leave until she added, “It’s the last time you leave crumbs on the counter from your midnight snacks.”

 With wide eyes, I grimaced and nodded. It made her chuckle as she closed the door behind herself and left without a word.

 The moment I was left alone, I remembered the dream I was having and hurriedly got out of bed. “Nasty brain, naughty.” I mumbled while undressing. Sure, erotic dreams weren’t bad, but the fact that I had dreamt about that stranger was something entirely new. Maybe it was to be expected if we interacted more like we did last night, if we had more sessions like last night’s one. Damn, am I that needy for a good fuck? Is this what I’ve become? I thought with a huff.

 Once I was dressed, I grabbed my phone and all that I needed for class before leaving the room. On my way out I saw the notification that had popped on my screen, a message from the doctor but it was one from last night.

 HandSurgeon: I’ll allow you to call me doc, just because my username is not very adequate when shortened. But watch it.

 Looking at it I laughed and wrote back, albeit later than when he had sent his message.

 Edelweiss: Good morning to you too, doc. Hope you were able to catch some z’s, because of you I almost missed my class.

Edelweiss: kidding, it’s entire my fault but I want to blame it on you for the fun.

 I shoved my phone in my pocket when I heard my two friends’ voices, telling me I needed to hurry and hurry I did. I grabbed the sandwich Robin handed me and thanked her with all my heart, telling her I’d make the food tonight but she told me she’d rather not die of food poisoning at a young age.

 “Come on, I can make some things! We’ll order in, then?” I said, leaning on the counter with a grin as I took a bite of the food.

“Careful, Nami has invited her best friend tonight. He’s constantly famished, and eats a large amount of food so I’ll take you up on that offer another day. Now off you go, Nami’s waiting in her car.”

 Giving her a thumbs up I leaned off the counter and pondered, “So Nami’s cooking tonight? I see why she’s stressed out now. Anyone else coming by?” I asked quickly. Robin chuckled elegantly, her back leaning against the counter, in front of me, with her arms crossed over her chest. “He might bring one of his friends, but it all depends on his schedule. Nothing definitive yes. Now off you go!” She shooed me, smiling. Most of her classes were in the evening, and yet she woke up that early every day.

 It was also fascinating how, even when in her pajamas she looked so dignified.

 Without losing any more time, I waved her goodbye and rushed down all the flight of stairs to jump into Nami’s car. “Good morning-“ I closed my mouth when she gestured for me to shut up, pointing at her ear and at the board. Looking at the screen, she was on a call with someone but started the car without another word. I could only hear her replies, but tried not to eavesdrop. To stop myself from falling asleep, I took my phone once more and saw a message from HandSurgeon.

 I hated how it sent excitement coursing through my body. Was I remembering the thrill of last night or was I that interested in talking to him? I did not ponder the question longer and opened the app.

 HandSurgeon: Good morning Edelweiss. Are you feeling good? Physically.

HandSurgeon: We’ve barely done anything. But don’t worry, you’ll blame me later when we’ll have more fun.

Edelweiss: I’m great, a bit sore but that’s on me.

Edelweiss: don’t threaten me with a good time 😩, you can’t start the horny talk this early in the morning. How do you expect me to focus during my classes?

HandSurgeon: Haha, I’ll stop. Do you have time to talk?

Edelweiss: ominous much? But yes, I do have time to talk. Something on your mind?

 A knot formed in my stomach, I started to worry he’d say we couldn’t keep doing this. Would it be that bad? We’d known each other for so little time, it’s not like I couldn’t find someone else to fuck.

 I huffed at my own thought, I could find someone else but did they have HandSurgeon’s charisma? Unfortunately, no, I was bound to be horny for a strong doctor that I did not even know the face of.

 HandSurgeon: I got a bit too excited last night, I forgot to mention the most important info.

HandSurgeon: Those being: we can stop whenever you’d like. We can try whatever you feel comfortable trying. If you said you were ready to do something, but in the end feel like you can’t do it: tell me. You can change your mind, it works the other way around, too. You can say you want to try something even though you were against it at first.

HandSurgeon: I won’t always be up to… play but I will be willing to help you if you ask nicely. And if I’m awake.

HandSurgeon: Finally, always call me sir, during our sessions.

 I hid the relief I fell in real life, when I read all his messages. I did not want Nami to ask me what was wrong, nor who I was texting, but it was hard to hide the satisfied smile on my lips. Pursing my lips, I thought of what to answer without looking too desperate.

 Even with the thought put into it, I read my message over a few times and desperation dripped out of it.

 Edelweiss: you scared me, I thought you were going to just disappear or something. I’m good with all of this. If I can add one, be honest with me? Like, uh…

Edelweiss: If I’m being too pushy, but you’re busy, tell me, I’ll calm down haha.

Edelweiss: So… I agree to the terms, sir.

 I saw him type, then stop. Then type again, before stopping again. Had I said something bad? I was going to put my phone away when he replied.

 HandSurgeon: Good girl.

HandSurgeon: Now, I won’t be able to play tonight, but I’ll be free to text if you’d like.

HandSurgeon: It’ll give you time to rest, that way we’ll fuck you good once you’re feeling better.

 I choked on my saliva. Why was he this casual saying things like this?

 Edelweiss: I-

Edelweiss: I said don’t get me horny, the audacity you have to be that good with your words.

Edelweiss: I’ll be busy tonight too, but I’ll text you if it gets a bit boring.

Edelweiss: Also, are you not like… cutting people open or something? Why would you be awake this early with how late you went to sleep?

HandSurgeon: It’s cute how easy it is to get you flustered. Very interesting too. But I’ll stop for now.

HandSurgeon: Since you’re curious, I’m in bed. I have to meet with my intern in an hour, he’s very eager to learn.

HandSurgeon: Just like you, but maybe I find one more satisfying than the other 😉

 Staring at the screen, I hesitated and felt my cheeks heat up. I wanted to be horny and ask him for a picture, or be funny and ask him for a picture. Both could work together, but should I flirt or ask in the most stupid way possible? I was curious if he’d be willing to send anything, I’m sure it’d make my day if he did send me a picture but I did not want him to force him either. You can’t force a dom to do shit, idiot, my common sense told me.

 Edelweiss: send pic or fake.

HandSurgeon: Of my intern?

 Good fucking lord, I’m an idiot. I typed back quickly, trying to fix my stupidity.

 Edelweiss: of you in bed.

Edelweiss: maybe I’m asking for a nude? 🤔

HandSurgeon: Are you, now? What sparked that need? Do tell me. I’ll consider.

Edelweiss: I’m curious, and I wonder if you sleep dressed or not 😳

 Hit and run. That’s all I could call what I had done. I dropped that message then locked my screen and stared straight ahead, regretting sending it. I couldn’t delete it since he had probably seen in, considering we were both online at the same time. We were both staring at the conversation, craving for more, awaiting the other’s reply to weight our own answer in return.

 Covering my mouth with my hand, I rested my elbow on the small space by the window and felt my heart beat faster. I shouldn’t feel like that, I had literally fucked myself to his guidance hours ago. And yet, there was this stressed from asking him nudes. I mean, I hadn’t asked a dick pic per say… If he slept in pajamas it clearly wouldn’t be a nude, so…

 My phone vibrated in my hand, I looked down so quickly my head slipped off my hand and hit the window with a thud. “Are you good? You look nervous, do you have a final today or…” I heard Nami ask. She threw me a side glance but kept her gaze focused on the road.

 I was so focused on my own conversation; I had not realized she was done with her call. Had she been watching all of my reaction since then? No… no, probably not.

“I’m good, just need a bit of sugar.” I paused and continued casually, “Robin told me Luffy’s inviting someone tonight? Are you cooking or are you planning on ordering? They better pay their own shit, if we order in.” I grumbled, hoping to make her drop the subject.

 I needed to stay focus on what she was saying but my brain was drifting to the pending message on Discord. Fortunately, my distraction worked and she replied, “If he’s coming, I’ll make him pay the entire orders.” She scoffed as she pulled up into the parking, her eyes still focused in front of her. “He owes me, and since it’s last minute, I’ll use that against him to not pay my food.” She added. I laughed at her logic, was it really last minute if she knew he was coming since this morning? Shaking my head, I unlocked my phone and opened the text.

 HandSurgeon: [sent an attachment]

 While I masked my reaction, my eyes sure widened for the span of a second. On that very screen was a picture of the doctor, or more precisely, his crotch covered with just a thin blanket covering it. I could see the shape of his cock, and it made it more sinful than a full dick pic. The v shape of his lower stomach, along with the happy trail, made the whole thing hotter than it was supposed to be. Is this for fucking real? Thinking for a second it might be a catfish, I finally looked at the rest of the pic and saw a badly torn piece of paper with the word ‘Edelweiss’ scribbled badly on it.

 “Damn, who’s is this? Girl, you tapping that?” I quickly turned my phone face down and looked at Nami with what probably looked like guilt. “What? No. I’m on Twitter. I don’t have time to literally fuck around, too busy.” I stated, putting my hand on the door handle as I took hold of my bag.

 She was about to say something else, but we spoke at the same time and she let me talk. “What time do you finish? I’ll be done around 5 pm if you’re still there.” I stepped outside the car and slammed it shut, waiting for my ginger friend to join me.

“Around that time too, we’ll head right back home after. I think Luffy and his annoying friend will already be there. I’ll sent you the menu, so that you can pick from it.” She then hurried off when she saw one of her classmates waving her over.

 I let out a sigh and looked back at my phone, typing back while marching towards my class.

 Edelweiss: Are you kidding me? Dude…

HandSurgeon: I’d prefer you call me doc than dude. Although sir is the most appealing… But what’s wrong?

Edelweiss: You’re telling me, someone that hot is on weird websites when I’m sure anyone would want to fuck you. No offense, but you’re probably very hot, so why are you like… domming online? Instead of your own pretty little sub in real life? Not that I’m complaining! I like it.

HandSurgeon: Schedule is shit. And I’ve been told I’m bitter. But I’m glad you’re enjoying it, I’ll get dressed now. You focus on your class.

Edelweiss: Oh I am definitely enjoying it, a lot.

Edelweiss: by the way, I came to a realization this morning…

 Then we sent a message at the same time, I laughed nervously.

 HandSurgeon: So you think of me when you sleep? Very cute.

Edelweiss: my brain was slow last night, but like. Did you sext me while in your office?

Edelweiss: maybe I did think of you in my sleep, but I don’t think we need to talk about that, my question is definitely more important.

 I almost tripped over nothing, from looking at my phone instead of the path but I managed to make my way to class without a hitch. Throwing my bag over the desk, I sat down and waited for my professor. Checking Discord once more,

 HandSurgeon: I did. It’ll happen a lot too.

Edelweiss: damn that means no sexy live for you

 I replied without thinking. The loudest sigh escaped my lips, what even did I mean by that? Was I really considering giving him a show? What was I expecting from telling him that? I mean sure, if time goes on and I get more comfortable it could be fun…

 HandSurgeon: If that day comes, I’ll be sure to get my earphones. I’m sure you’d actually enjoy the thrill of showing yourself off. Knowing full well I’m watching, maybe with a hand in my pants, ordering you around. There will be a “sexy live”, if you’re comfortable enough… The fact that I’m in my office only adds to the charm. Wouldn’t you say?

 I blinked a few times, my thumbs hovering over the keyboard. I typed something then deleted it. I paused and typed again, before deleting it once more. Was he wrong? It was very exciting, just thinking about it. Even more so knowing he was willing to be in that situation, at his desk, looking at me getting off under his command. But also, even more knowing he’d be at his work place, where anyone could walk in on him being in such an embarrassing situation.

 HandSurgeon: It looks like you’re speechless. But do answer me, would you get off on knowing someone could walk in? Knowing we could get caught, knowing they could see you fucking yourself on screen just for me. Just to please me. They wouldn’t know it’s you, but you’d know. My good girl fucking herself, showing off her perfectly fuckable body just for me.

 I let my head fall back against the seat and took a deep breath. I felt suddenly self-conscious, even though I knew no one knew what was going on, on my screen. And yet, I had to look around to make sure before typing with a lot of hesitance. He hit the spot, I hated how right he was. But I replied in all honesty.

 Edelweiss: …

Edelweiss: yes…

Edelweiss: I’d like that…. sir…

Edelweiss: I need to focus on my class, but now I don’t know if I’ll be able since you just went off and made me very much distracted now.

HandSurgeon: My hand slipped.

Edelweiss: the  a u d a c i t y, then do tell me where it’ll slip next time 😉

Edelweiss: ok, no. that was bad. I’m trying, I’m not as good as you okay?

HandSurgeon: I think it’s a conversation best kept for late hours, wouldn’t you say?

HandSurgeon: I have to go. Focus on your class, or think of where you’d like my hands to go. The choice is yours, Edelweiss.

HandSurgeon: [send an attachment]

 There it was, another picture of him. This time it was his gloved hand gripping the fabric around his thigh tightly, the sleeve of his long shirt was slightly risen. I could catch a glimpse of the hair on his arm but focused on the length of his slender fingers. Of the way his fingertips were digging in his pants, of the lines his muscles drew on the back of his hand and maybe of, once again, the fact that he was sitting at his desk. Instead of replying, I took it in and locked my screen to try and focus on the class.

 I never thought I’d have a medical kink, but my thought would sometimes drift off, imagining him in his full surgeon outfit. Sitting on his chair, legs spread open while looking at me with a smirk. What it’d look like, I do not know, but I could only imagine the sultry gaze he could give me while in that position. He’d pat his thigh for me to come over and let me ride it- Shaking the thoughts away, I told myself to focus, and tried my best to keep up to that promise.

 The rest of the day, I kept my hands off my phone the best I could. I wanted to keep texting HandSurgeon and have some fun, tease him the way he was teasing me but I did not know how to push his buttons. Suddenly I realized I had never asked what were his kinks. By default, being in control must have been one of them, but I was curious as of what else he enjoyed. I made a mental note to ask him next time we talked, maybe tonight, maybe tomorrow, it all depended on tonight’s fun.

 Right, tonight… I don’t even know who’s the guy that’s coming over. Nami said that Luffy’s friend was annoying but maybe she was a bit biased since she was easily frustrated, which was ironic considering her best friend was the most tiring person ever. At some point during the day, she sent me a text with the name of the restaurant we were ordering at and told me to pick whatever I wanted.

 Seeing the prices, I had to make sure she had sent me the right restaurant and sent her a text asking if it was alright. Her reply was, “I told you he owed me, he said to choose whatever restaurant I wanted. And I did. He has the money, might as well use it.”

 I winced at her words and sent her my choice with a lot of reticence, adding, “If I get yelled that for picking something, even though I don’t know the guy, you’ll pay for my food.” She was quick to reply and told me it’ll be okay. “The dude might bitch and moan about it but he’ll eventually accept it” were her words. I don’t really know if it had helped or worsened my anxiety but I just let her do her thing and went on with the rest of my day without a hitch.

 I was able to focus on my classes and assignments after a while, when my brain finally decided to shove the whole HandSurgeon conversation in the back of my head.

 The day came to an end right on time. I had done my fair share of thinking for the day and needed a break. Knowing a nice warm meal was waiting for me at my apartment only made things ten times better. I rushed out of my last class with haste, almost bumping into other people and dropping my phone but I caught it before anything dramatic could happen.

 When I stepped outside, I was met with a drizzle and had to walk faster to Nami’s car. I was lucky to see she was already there, waiting inside of it with music playing loudly. She was trying to fix her hair the best she could, and gave up when it looked half-decent. A startled gasp escaped her lips when I opened the car door and slipped inside, greeting her, out of breath.

 “You scared me!” She gasped, a hand on her chest.

“Is it my fault? You’re on edge, not me.” I huffed, throwing my bag in the back of the car, making the ginger groan when she received a few droplets on her clothes. Apologizing, I buckled my seatbelt and we drove back home in a good mood. Food always lifted spirits, even more so after a draining day. On our way home, Nami started renting on how I will have to keep Luffy’s friend away from her because she couldn’t handle his attitude.

 I did not dare ask her what happened but listened carefully. She did not give me any useful information about him, only telling me he was “arrogant, annoying, he’s bitchy and way too cocky because of his job.” I winced and was expecting the worst, probably a business man that was too proud of making money or a politician. No, no… Luffy would never befriend people like that, right?

 All kind of ideas simmered in my head until we reached our apartment. I don’t know why, but I was going to knock. I quickly caught myself and unlocked the door, hanging my coat in the entrance as I took off my shoes. “Robin? Have they arrived yet-“ I was cut off when the excited black-haired man came rushing in and wrapped his arms around both Nami and I. She laughed and hugged him back, while I pushed him away, smiling softly. “Hello Luffy, let me get changed first? I smell like a wet dog.” I scoffed.

 He agreed and pulled Nami to the side, bringing her to the living room. I did not look their way and instead went back to my room to get changed. Maybe I could catch him before he went to his evening activity? I kind of wanted to have a bit of fun before going back to eat… But then again, did I have time? Humming pensively, I locked my door and stripped naked then pulled out my phone.

 Edelweiss: Good evening, can I suggest something? I want to make my evening more fun… maybe have something to look forward to this evening…

 I waited a moment, sitting on my desk chair completely naked. It was frisky and I felt well… naked. Was it too bold? Should I just delete the message and get dressed? I did not have time to ponder longer that the little dot next to his name turned green. He had answered.

 HandSurgeon: What do you suggest? I’m all ears.

Edelweiss: let’s say… I wanted to keep something inside me the entire evening… like an egg, you know those vibrating egg but like, not turned on because that’d be too much.

Edelweiss: here, this:

Edelweiss: [sent an attachment]

 I made sure we could see my lower body, the hand holding the toy was right above my thighs and I angled it so he could see most of it. When I sent the picture, I felt the pressure in my stomach grow, maybe he’d refuse and I was getting excited over nothing.

 HandSurgeon: I won’t be able to guide you, gorgeous.

HandSurgeon: But… I think it’s a great idea. Although, I need to be sure you’re not too sore to have some fun tonight.

Edelweiss: I’m good, I’m great. Don’t worry, I can definitely handle this. I mean, if you want to, sir.

HandSurgeon: The eagerness ever so present, you’re being very good asking for it. I would hate to punish you.

HandSurgeon: Let’s do it, if you think you can’t take it anymore send me a message and take it out.

HandSurgeon: But I’m sure a good girl like you could take it entire night, wouldn’t you agree?

 My answer was to send him a picture of the toy inside me, my free hand gripping my thigh while spreading them wider.

 Edelweiss: [sent an attachment]

HandSurgeon: Fuck. A warning next time. I’m not against more pictures, but let me remind you I’m not alone tonight.

HandSurgeon: Or is it what you’re looking for? You want to show off to me, but also to them? The odds of the people here looking at my phone are low, but they’re not null. That’s what gets you off.

 I was going to reply but he sent another message that sent something coursing straight between my legs. The throb I managed to numb after this morning’s talk came back without much efforts needed.

 HandSurgeon: Maybe to calm that eagerness, we should turn it on? Have you dripping wet for tonight? Would that help with how needy you’re feeling right now? You’d be surrounded by, let’s say your friends. But your thoughts would be nowhere near that, no.

HandSurgeon: You’ll be thinking of me. Of what I’d do to you tonight, looking forward to obey. To be on your knees, in your bed, expectant in front of your screen. Like a desperate girl, pleading for some relief.

 My hand slipped on my desk and grabbed the little remote, pressing it to turn the toy on. I let out a shaky breath at the sensation, spread my legs wider to try to press it deeper but finding my attempt fruitless.

 HandSurgeon: Get dressed, and go join your friends. I’ll be available to talk in a few.

HandSurgeon: But don’t get too greedy. If you think you’re getting close, you turn it off. I want you begging for an orgasm tonight. Are we good?

Edelweiss: Yes sir. More than good.

Edelweiss: Maybe… maybe I could call you, no video, to do it…

 He’ll ask for me to be precise. But I felt like my pride would take a hit if I wrote it down, did I want to beg? I gave it a thought while getting dressed in a fresh pair of clothes. Usually I wouldn’t want to beg, but it felt different here. Maybe I could use this moment to find out more about him, his tastes… his kink.

 HandSurgeon: “It”?

Edelweiss: Beg. You want me to beg, I am suggesting to do it on a call. That’s what you want right? You get off on being in a position of power but what else do you like?

HandSurgeon: I’ll have you begging, no matter what. That’s the fun, dear.

HandSurgeon: Now you’re curious about what I like? We’ll talk about it after tonight’s session, right now I have to go. Have fun, be good.

 I thought it was going to be child’s play. The vibrations weren’t that strong, and it’s not like there was going to be a lot of things that’d turn me on during a friend gathering. Right? Right. It’s what I thought until I joined everyone in the living room and there stood a definition of handsome. I don’t know what Nami said about him but I’m sure she never mentioned how hot he was.

Nami, Luffy and Robin were sitting on the ground by the low table. They were taking the boxes of food from the bags and giving them to everyone. What caught my eyes was the man sitting in the couch, almost lazily. He was looking at the three people with something close to boredom, his arms spread on the back of the couch.

 Suddenly I regret trying to make my evening more fun… Or did I? I’d have to see how the evening go to make an opinion on being in the company of such a beautiful man when I had my own hardship going.

[Part 3]

#trafalgar law #trafalgar one piece #trafalgardwaterlaw #one piece trafalgar law #trafalgar law x reader #law x reader #one piece x reader #law one piece #physicalturian #writer #ao3 writing #ao3 writer #writing #fanfiction #wop #words of pleasure

[fictionalabyss]

She didn’t show.

Pairing : Dean x Various, Dean x Reader, Sam

Word count : 3,589

Written for : @spnfluffbingo​

Square :  Online dating.

Warnings : Flangst, online dating, unrequited love, catfishing, guilt, angry Dean, regret.

A/N : I had this idea, and ended up shoving it in this square for a fill and now I’m not thrilled with how it turned out. So this idea is going to eventually get re-done and given some proper justice. Until then, enjoy this version lol.

Masterlist • Patreon • Ko-fi.

SPN Fluff bingo 2020 Masterlist. 

Dean smirked to himself as he hurried past the library and towards the garage. His eyes were so focused on his phone, he didn’t notice he was being watched. “Where you headed?”

“Hot date.” his smile widened.

“Yeah? Finally treating your left hand to something nice after all the work it’s done for you?”

“Fuck off.” Dean snapped. “I’ll have you know it’s a real person.”

“Pictures or it didn’t happen.” you crossed your arms, leaning back in your chair. You were surprised when Dean stormed over and shoved his phone in your face. A blonde haired bombshell sitting on a classic car covered his screen. “Looks like something you’d find on some dudes calendar.” you chuckled.

“You’re just jealous that I’ve got a date.” he said smugly before walking away. “Don’t wait up.”

“For you? Never.” you laughed.

As Dean vanished from view, your phone chimed. You pulled out your phone and opened the app with the bright red notification.  Going to your messages you licked your lips as you read the latest one that had just come in.

> Can’t wait to finally meet you tonight.

Leaving it on read, you closed the app and hit the power button on your phone as Sam walked into the library, handing you a beer. “Where’d Dean go?”

“Manicure.”

“Manicure?” Sam stopped half way to his seat on the other side of the table and gave you a confused look.

“Said he had a hot date.” you shrugged. “I figure either a manicure, or maybe he’s going to buy some gloves.” Sam’s smile was bright and wide as it grew into a laugh. “You know, change it up a bit.”

“You're an ass.” Sam shook his head, still laughing as he finally got to his chair and sat down.

“You love me.” you lifted the drink to your lips.

“Didn’t you even consider that he might just have found some new porn so embarrassing he’s scared to watch it here?” you snorted, your drink almost coming out of your nose. “Yeah.. you’re right.. It’s Dean. He has no shame when it comes to porn.” Sam shook his head as you laughed hysterically.

“And what could possibly be worse than what he’s already watching?” you clutched at your stomach, sliding lower in the chair as Sam shuddered at the thought.

An hour and a half later, Dean walked back into the bunker, eyes on his phone with a glare as he mumbled.

“Dean?” Sam sat up straighter in his chair, watching as his brother stormed past.

“You’d think he’d be happier after such a hot date.” you mused.

“Fuck off.” Dean snapped. “I’m not in the fucking mood.” he growled before disappearing down the hall.

Getting up, you left Sam behind and went to find Dean. He was pacing around his room, eyes still on his phone. “Dean, you okay?”

“Peachy.”

“Dean-”

“She didn’t show, okay?” before you could say anything he turned to you, finger pointed right at your face. “And don’t you fucking laugh or give me some bullshit about how everyone gets stood up, I don’t.” he growled the last two words.

“What happened?”

“I don’t know.” he tossed his phone onto his bed. “I don’t fucking know.” he sighed. “One second she can’t wait to see me, the next.. ghosted.”

“Okay, but for real, Dean. Since when do you give a shit? Since when do you not just move on to the next?”

“I kinda liked her.” he mumbled quietly. “But whatever, right?” He shrugged. “Her loss?”

“Yeah. Her loss.” you gave him a smile. “Beer and pie?”

“There’s pie?”

“There’s pie.” you nodded.

“You’re so good to me.” Dean pulled you into a hug and you smiled, ducking your face against his chest as your arms went around his waist.

“What are friends for, Dean.” the sentiment earned you a kiss on the top of your head before he let you go and you headed for the kitchen.

“You’re in a good mood.” you smiled up at Dean from the motel room table as he walked in, coffee tray in hand. “Let me guess, waitress slipped you her number?” Dean chuckled and shook his head. “Really? Huh.. okay.. Uh.” you thought for a second. “Oh, soccer mom, fresh from school drop off is sexually frustrated cuz her husband is shit in the sack and you’re gonna give her exactly what the dr ordered?”

“You’re disgusting, no.” he shot you a look. “New state, new matches.” he smiled, putting down the coffee and pulling out his phone. “Matched up with this one girl-” you tuned him out as he showed you the girl he’d messaged while out getting coffee.

“Looks hot.” you mumbled, reaching for your cup and tearing your eyes away from his screen. Doing your best to hide the jealousy.

“She is.” he grinned. “You should see this one pic-”

“I don’t think Y/N wants to see some other woman's nudes, Dean.” Sam joked, stepping out of the bathroom in boxer briefs and a shirt, towel drying his hair.

“Of course she does.” Dean scoffed. “She’s my best wingman.”

“Actually, I need to piss. Been waiting for Sammy to get out of that bathroom since the turn of the century.” you laughed as you got up from your seat, leaving Dean laughing at his brothers expense behind you.

“I wasn’t that long.” Sam defended himself.

“Sure there, Rapunzel. “ Dean laughed as the door shut behind you.

Once locked away from them in the privacy of the bathroom, the smile you had plastered to your face fell. Another one? He already had another one? It was the third girl he’d talked to so far this month. Was he planning on meeting her? Fucking her? Of course he was, otherwise he wouldn’t be smiling like an idiot.  Pulling out your phone, you opened the app, signed out, and signed up creating a new profile. You kept everything basic but intriguing, found a random picture on google that you knew would grab attention, and hit create. Taking a deep breath, you got to work, swiping past various people as you flushed the unused toilet and ran the water in the sink for a moment. You finished up on your phone, tucked it back into your pocket and stepped out.

“What's your excuse?” Sam teased, poking at how long you were in the bathroom.

“Coffee.” you answered. “You want the details?”

“No ma’am.” Sam was quick to turn back to his own coffee, smile gone from his lips.

“Didn’t think so.”

“Hope you sprayed.” Dean muttered, eyes on his phone.

“Yeah, entire bottle of that cheap cologne you bought for that date last month.” Dean’s eyes shot up and he glared.

“Oof, that bathroom must smell nasty now.” Sam teased.

“Both of you can fuck off, okay, it smelled good.”

“So good she didn’t show up.” Sam teased with a laugh.

“Fuck you both.” Dean spat, getting up from his chair and storming out of the room.

“Think we took it too far, Sammy.”

“He’s done it to me enough times. Since when does he buy cologne anyways?”

“Fuck if I know.”

“Did you really spray it?” Sam asked.

“No.” You laughed. “I threw it out a week ago. He hasn’t noticed yet. We’ll just pretend he left it behind somewhere.” you put your finger to your lips to signal it was your little secret.

“Deal. I hope I never smell it again.” Sam scrunched up his face before opening his laptop. “Did Dean get those files from the sheriff?”

“Yeah, I think so..” As you reached for Dean's bag, your phone chimed. Peaking into his duffle, you saw the folders sitting on top and pulled them out, handing them to Sam.

“Maybe we can figure this out while he throws his tantrum.” Sam muttered as you pulled out your phone.

“Yeah.. maybe.” you answered quietly, opening the dating app and seeing you had a new match. You smiled to yourself as you clicked to send a private message.

< For some reason I was feeling a little off today. But when you came along, you definitely turned me on ;)

It was ballsy. Forward and crude could go very wrong, but it just might make him laugh and you were hoping it would. You waited, baited breath as ‘read’ appeared on the screen but nothing followed. You waited a few minutes, pretending to research on your phone before you cursed yourself and closed the app. Your gamble had failed.

With a sigh, you opened your browser and started to actually research. “What’s wrong?” Sam glanced over.

“Dead end.” you lied.

“Yeah.. it’s a rough one.” he nodded, eyes back on his laptop again.

A moment later, your phone went off again.

> Impala67 : Are you a parking ticket, because you’ve got FINE written all over you.

> Impala67 : I’m Dean, by the way.

< Charlotte.

> Impala67 : Nice to meet you, Charlotte.

You expected Dean to come back after an hour pissed, but he didn’t. You didn’t see him until some time a bit after 4:30. “I take it the date went well?” you tried to hide the bite in your tone and were thankful enough he was still enjoying enough of his post fuck high to miss it.

“Didn’t show, but quickly recovered.” he winked as he shut the motel room door behind him. “Why you up so early? Did you wait up for me?” his smile got wider.

“No. You said we were leaving at 5am, remember?”

“Okay but it’s-”

“Almost 5. And Sam’s showering.”

“I’ll just use yours-”

“I’m already checked out.” you turned your attention to your phone. “Next time, take others into consideration, please.”

“What the fuck is up your ass?” he snapped. “Since when do you care where I am or when I get back?”

“Since either I have to smell the stench coming off of you the whole drive, or we’re behind schedule.” you got up from your seat and grabbed your bag. “I’ll be in the car, praying you didn’t fuck in my seat.”

“They’re all my damn seats.” he snapped at you as the door shut behind you. “What the fuck is going on?”

You were behind Dean in the car, he’d jumped in a quick shower, even changed his clothes but when you looked up your eyes were drawn to the dark mark on his neck. Rolling your eyes, you unlocked your phone, signed out of the app and created a new profile.

“What’s gotten into her?” you heard him mumble to Sam.

“Huh? What do you mean?”

You glanced up, and Dean's eyes were on you in the rear-view, but you were quick to look back down at your phone.. “Never mind.” he sighed. “Forget it.”

Another city, another stand up, another pissed off Dean, and then it was back home to Lebanon. The recently finished case on no one's mind. Dean's mood was shit. It was the 12th time he’d been stood up and he was swearing he was done with the dating apps. Fed up with women ghosting him like he was some chump.

You were answering messages on your phone when Dean slammed on the breaks, making you hit the back of the seat in front of you and drop your phone.

“HEY ASSHOLE! YOU NEVER SEE A FUCKING STOP SIGN BEFORE?” Dean was screaming out the window, much to Sam’s embarrassment. The guy flipped him off and Dean revved his engine ready to follow.

“Dean.” Sam warned.

“Whatever.” he surged the car forward, making you fly back against the seat again. With a sigh and a head shake to Sam who’d glanced back at you, you looked out the window and waited for the bunker to come into sight.

Dean was still sitting in his car, parked in the bunker garage. He couldn’t figure it out, and he was trying. Was it something he was saying? Was he being too eager? Too desperate? Too cocky? No, this always worked for him, he hadn’t changed anything. Maybe it just wasn’t how shit worked online, but why agree to meet up if they weren’t going to show..

He was deep in thought when he heard a phone chime. He sighed and pulled out his, but saw no notifications. That confused him until he heard another chime. He glanced around and into the back seat. It took him a minute, but then he spotted it, your phone down on the floor. You must have dropped it when he’d slammed on his brakes when that asshole almost plowed right into him and forgot it. Leaning over the back of the seat, he reached for it.

He was making his way out of the garage when your phone chimed again, and he looked down at the screen as it lit up with the notification. “Dude is coming in hot.” he laughed seeing the beginning of the message some guy had sent. “Is this the kinda shit chicks like?”

Curious now, he swiped his thumb across your screen and was surprised it unlocked without some kind of code. He’d scold you about that later, because he knew he’d get an earful right back for snooping.

He recognized the app that opened. It was the same dating one he’d been trying out. He had no idea you were on there and wondered why he’d never come across your profile. “Why does she even need online dating?” he wondered, reading the messages from some strange guy.  Dude was bold, coming on too strong, and he could see your messages were half teasing, but mostly uninterested.

Then he saw the name. “Son of a bitch.”

“You!?” You spun around as Dean stormed into your room, your phone in his hand, and your eyes shot right to it. “It was fucking you!?”

“De-”

“Were they all you?” he demanded, and you clamped your mouth shut. “They were, weren’t they?” he scoffed. “I can’t believe you. I thought we were friends, who the fuck does that to someone? Do you know how fucked up that is?” he unlocked your phone and showed off the messages with him that had spanned the last week and a half until he got stood up and you stopped responding. “Why would you do this to me? WHY!?”

“I’m-”

“Don’t you fucking tell me your sorry.” he growled. “Sorry doesn’t mean shit to me right now, sorry doesn’t even begin to fucking cover what you did to me. I thought it was me. I thought I was the fucking problem, but it wasn’t. It was you.” he shot your phone onto your bed.

Tears blurred your eyes. “Dean, I-”

“I don’t want to hear it. I don’t even want to fucking see you.” he spat before storming out.

You stood there staring at the spot on the floor he vacated. Fighting not to let the tears loose. You’d fucked up. You’d fucked up so bad and there was no taking it back. Swallowing, you turned and started re-packing the bag that you’d be unpacking when he stormed in.

You were working on your second bag when you heard Sam sigh from the doorway. “Why’d you do it?”

“Doesn’t matter.” you mumbled, not turning to face him. Not wanting to see the same look his brother had given you before storming out.

“It matters to him.”

“No, it doesn’t.”

“Where are you going to go?” Sam asked after a moment of silence.

“I don’t know. But I’m not wanted here anymore, so..” you zipped up the bag and grabbed your phone and keys before slinging one of the bags over your shoulder and grabbing the other.. “It is what it is.”

“Keep in touch, at least?”

“No promises. Good bye, Sam.” and with that, you walked past him and headed for the garage and your car that had been parked there for months.

Before deleting the app, you send out one last message, an apology. Then you deleted all accounts, deleted the app and changed your number. You’d driven off beyond the Midwest and out of their lives, trying your best to never look back, but it was hard. You’d been moving from motel to motel, hunt to hunt like you use to years ago. You’d gotten so use to having somewhere to settle, somewhere to call home. Now all you had was shitty diners, shitty beer, and even worse motel rooms.

It had been about 4 months since you walked out of the bunker. You were tired, and lonely, but no one in the bar you sat at caught your interest, so you finished off your beer and left. The 10 minute walk back to the motel in the cool air doing nothing for your mood. But nothing had been able to lift your mood in a long time.

You walked into your motel room and looked around. It was time to move on, you’d been here a week too long already, but you weren’t sure where to go next. Dropping onto the bed, you grabbed your laptop and started to look for a case.

A knock sounded on your door, and you ignored it. Then again. The third time it was louder. “I’M NOT FUCKING INTERESTED.” you yelled out, only for whoever it was to pound on the door this time. “Jesus fuck.. Take a goddamn hint-” the words died on your lips when you yanked the door open and saw him standing there. “Dean..”

“About fucking time.” he muttered stepping past you and into the room, looking around at the mess. “Looks cozy.” he teased.

“A real home away from home.” you muttered, shutting the door.

“Speaking of, when are you coming back?” he glanced back at you behind him. “I think your tantrum lasted long enough, don’t you?”

“I’m not.” you gave him a confused look. “You didn’t want to see me again, remember? So I left. Why are you here, Dean?”

“Couldn’t exactly call you.” he pointed out. “Numbers disconnected.”

“Changed it.”

“Yeah. And ghosted me again.”

“Again, you didn’t want to see me again.” you pointed out. “What do you want from me?”

“I want to know why. Why’d you do that to me, you have to admit, it was fucked up.” You sigh as you cross the space and drop back onto your bed, staying quiet. Dean sits so he’s facing you and asks again. “Why’d you do it?”

“Because I love you, you dumbass.”

“You-” his brow furrowed as he watched you, you were looking down at your hands like you were afraid to look at him. “How does that even make sense? Why didn’t you just say something?”

“I did.. I tried.” you were picking at the skin around your nail. “But you didn’t seem to notice. You were meeting girls at bars, at diners, and then you started with the app.. You had more dates, spent more and more time on your phone.. I can’t compete with that, Dean. I got jealous, I got upset. I made that first profile not thinking I’d actually get anywhere, but then I did, you saw me, you talked to me like you talked to them and I got lost in that feeling, it felt so good to finally be seen. But then you wanted to meet. And I got scared. Scared that you’d be disappointed it was just me, but I couldn’t bring myself to say no to you, I never could.”

“So you said yes and didn’t show?”

You nodded. “And you were upset, and I felt bad. But I wanted that feeling again, I wanted more than anything to be anyone but me just so you’d see me again. So I became someone else. Always someone else. Catfishing you seemed to be the only way to get your attention. You liked me, Dean. Each and every time it was me and you seemed to like me, but when I acted like that with you, face to face.” you shrugged and finally looked up again. “Sometimes even saying the exact same things, I got nowhere. I was your wingman, I was your friend, but you couldn’t see me beyond that, and I should have just accepted it. I should have respected that I was nothing more and this was one sided and just moved on. I realize that now, and I’m sorry."

Dean was watching you, taking it all in. Processing. He could see the guilt all over your face, the tears stinging your eyes, he knew you meant that apology more than anything. To be honest, he’d forgiven you months ago, but now he had answers to process.

“I’m sorry I fucked up.” you continued. “I’m sorry I fucked up our friendship. I regret it, I regret all of it. I miss you, I miss having a best friend, I miss having a home.” the tears started running down your cheeks and Dean reached out to wipe them away.

“Then come home.”

“I can’t. It can’t go back to the way it was. I can’t just sit there, and watch you with someone else, or-”

Dean cut you off, pressing his lips gently to yours before pulling back again. “Come home. I miss you too.”

“I hurt you..” you whispered.

“Yeah, you did.” he agreed. “We’ll figure it out. Because you’re right, I did like you. I loved our late night chats, I love how dirty you get in DMs, and I miss my closest friend by my side. Come home with me.”

“You sure?”

“Positive.” he smiled. “Don’t ghost me this time.”

*If you like this, please consider supporting my work*

Tagging :  Dean - @akshi8278​  @adoptdontshoppets​   @evyiione​ @karikatz12481​ @idksupernatural​

SPN -  @sandlee44  @just-another-busy-fangirl  @mrswhozeewhatsis   @deanandsamsbitch  @deans-baby-momma  @thebescht @67-chevy-baby @supraveng   @musiclovinchic93 @holyfuckloueh  @ksgeekgirl   @hobby27 @maddiepants  @roxyspearing @onethirstyunicorn    @fandom-princess-forevermore​     @kalesrebellion​   @deanwanddamons​

All tags - @sorenmarie87 @artemisthebadger @winchesterprincessbride @iflostreturntosteverogers @akfonkin @rebelminxy​ @foxyjwls007​ @onethirstyunicorn​ @shaelyn102​ @supernaturalenchanted​  @kazkingdom​   @babypink224221​  @emoryhemsworth​    @ilovefanfic86​  @pie-with-hunters​   @deanmonandnegansbitch​ @lazinessisalliknow​  @feelmyroarrrr​  @letsdisneythings​   @cdwmtjb8​   @notyourtypicalrose​  @xostephanie​  @marvelmenmusicandroses @ilovedeanspie​ @defenderrosetyler​ @amandamdiehl​

#fluff bingo #online dating square #dean x reader #dean winchester fic #dean #dean fic #dean winchester #reader insert #spn #spn fic #supernatural #supernatural fic #sam #sam winchester

[everybodyscupoftea]

let it snow

college isaac x reader

finals week hell capped off with the first snow of the season

(warnings: mentions of not taking care of yourself during finals - lack of sleep, over-caffeinating, etc; cursing; very little editing)

Finals week fall of your third year was ugly. It was a grueling combination of coffee and protein bars with absolutely no sleep. There was a table you’d managed to claim on the third floor of your campus’s library, and the only time you left was for an ill-advised gym trip to wake yourself up.

Isaac didn’t like the silence of the third floor like you did, so he’d been working with some of the kids in his major. You texted him a few times a day, but for the most part, you’d been reworking every single homework assignment you’d been given all semester.

Mid-way through the week, you made a trip to Taco Bell for actual food that wasn’t toast or a protein bar, much to Isaac’s displeasure. He watched you eating it with a weird look, so you finally asked, “What?”

“How much have you eaten this week?”

“Lots of protein bars and breakfast.”

“And instead of letting me cook something good for you tonight, you got fast food?”

“Yep. Braincells are overworked, so I didn’t think that far ahead.”

Stiles was sitting on the opposite end of the table, working on a research paper for his criminal justice course, and snorted, “Dude, she’d rather Taco Bell than your cooking.”

“That’s not true, I definitely said I forgot.” you muttered, trying to defend him.

He shrugged, “That’s not what I heard.”

Isaac rolled his eyes and shoved Stiles’s shoulder, “Fuck off, dude.”

“Who’s editing your Shakespeare paper? Me. Show some respect.”

“Stiles makes a point,” you responded, taking the last bite of your quesadilla before breaking off into a large yawn. 

The furrow between Isaac’s brow was back when he looked at you, and you stood up, rolling your shoulders out, ready to go back to the library to work through another set of structures homework.

“Hey, when’s the last time you slept?” Stiles asked, shutting his computer gently.

“Like,” you paused, trying to think, “last night.”

Immediately, Isaac chipped in, “How long?”

“Three hours?”

“And the night before?” Stiles was walking over to you.

“Oh, no sleep that night. Got sucked into some geotech homework and the next thing I knew it was 6 a.m. So I went to the gym to get some endorphins going, had some breakfast, and got another coffee.”

“You should sleep,” Isaac told you.

“Only two more tests, and then I can rest.”

Stiles sighed, “At least take a shower.”

“Actually, that would be great.”

Isaac nodded, and you could tell he was already trying to figure out the best way to get you to stay the night. You were determined to power through for a bit. 

Getting out of the shower, feeling significantly more alive, you put on the clothes Isaac had left for you, and started toweling your hair off. You checked the outside temperature, wincing when you saw how fucking cold it was, and started layering back up.

Isaac was sitting on the couch, scrolling through Netflix, when you walked out. He jumped up, “Where are you going?”

“Library for a few hours and then bed.”

“What time is your first test tomorrow?”

You sighed, trying to think, “Fuck, I need to check. I think 10:30 in the morning.”

“What class?”

With a grimace, you answered, “Structures.”

He looked like he didn’t really want to let you go, but he knew you’d be really upset if he tried to keep you back. Nodding, he smiled softly, “Text me after your test tomorrow.”

“I will.”

Putting a hand on his shoulder for balance, you rose up on your tiptoes to give him a goodbye kiss. When you pulled apart, Isaac reached over and grabbed a beanie from the hook next to the door, gently putting it on your head, tugging it down to cover your ears.

“Don’t want you to get sick,” he flicked your nose.

You clutched your chest dramatically, “My hero.”

He sighed, feigning exasperation, and nudged you out the door, “Go finish the semester.”

-

Structures and geotech, both on the same day, kicked your ass. After the geotech final at 2:00, you stumbled out of the classroom, eyes practically shutting. You weren’t sure that you could make the drive back to your apartment.

Taking one more sip of coffee to power through, and after a few minutes, pulled out your phone. Isaac’s apartment was fairly close to the civil engineering building, so you decided to call to see if you could crash there.

“Isaac,” you started when he answered.

“Hey, bub.”

“Can I stay at your place?”

“Yeah of course,” you heard ruffling in the background and suddenly his voice got louder, “are you close?”

“Walking that way. I don’t think I should drive back to my apartment.”

“Have you eaten today?”

“Fuck,” you muttered, “I was gonna pick something up on my way home, but I forgot.”

“No worries,” he was quick to reassure, “I have plenty of food here for you.”

“God, you’re the best.”

He stuttered a few times, and you could practically feel his blush through the phone, “Hurry up,” was his weak response, and you laughed, hanging up.

The walk was easier after that, though the sky was grey and the wind was picking up. You frowned, pulling your jacket tighter around you, and Isaac’s hat lower on your head. It took about three seconds for him to answer after you knocked, dressed exactly the same as the day before.

He had a plate ready for you, leftover fried rice and chicken, and pressed a kiss to your forehead. Before you could start eating, he asked, “How were your tests?”

“Geotech was easier, but structures melted my brain in the morning, so who actually knows. What about your Shakespeare essay?”

“Stiles read it over for me last night and I submitted it online and dropped it off this morning. Been watching Netflix since then.”

You yawned again, stretching out with the hand not holding your plate, and walked over to the couch to sit down. Isaac sat next to you and hit play on whatever movie he’d been watching. Curling up, you dug in.

-

The rest of the afternoon was a blur. You faintly remembered dozing off during the movie, plate still in your lap, before Isaac woke you up and made you go to bed. He woke you up once more when he climbed in next to you.

 The third and final time you woke up, Isaac was gone. It was light outside, grey like snow was coming, and you had no clue what time it was, just that you were hungry again. You heard a burst of loud laughter before someone shushed them, equally loudly.

WIth a laugh, you climbed out of bed, heading to the bathroom connected to his room to brush your teeth and wash your face. Luckily, the clothes you’d left the night before were washed and sitting on his dresser, so you were able to change.

Scott and Stiles were on the couch, playing COD, when you finally walked out. Stiles hit pause and whistled, “Damn, look who managed to resurrect herself.”

“Looks pretty good for a dead bitch,” you joked back.

Isaac was in the kitchen, and you went over to see what he was cooking. He handed you a mug with a smile, “It’s hot chocolate. Figure you’ve had enough caffeine for a whole month this week. There is some coffee in the recipe, I saw it online.”

Taking a sip, you hummed, “This is fantastic.”

He beamed, “I’m glad you like it. I’m making taco soup for tonight, did you want a sandwich?”

“That would be great.”

Hopping up on the counter, you swung your legs back and forth and watched him make you a grilled cheese just the way you like it, tomatoes and everything. Isaac handed it over and ruffled your hair gently, “Eat up.”

“Very nutritious,” you commented before taking a bite.

He laughed, “I’ll make you eat veggies later. I want to go outside first, it snowed.”

“Oh my god, actually?” you gasped.

Leaning against the counter next to you, he nodded, “First of the year.”

“What time is it?” you finally remembered to ask between bites.

“3:00 in the afternoon. I texted your roommate while you were asleep to let her know you were alive.”

“Oh shit, thanks.”

Scott wandered into the kitchen, “So, we going outside soon?”

“We need to get out there before it gets all ugly,” Stiles added from where he was still on the couch.

“Let’s fucking go,” you hopped off the counter, eating your last bite.

The four of you traipsed outside after bundling up. There were a few other people outside walking around, a group of girls taking pictures under a really pretty snow-covered tree, and then your group making noise and kicking at the snow.

“I can’t take you guys anywhere,” you snorted when Stiles slipped and fell on his ass.

“God damn,” he muttered, “that hurt.”

Scott helped him up and immediately shoved a handful of snow down his shirt. Stiles squealed, twisting away from him, cursing loudly. You and Isaac laughed, his arm draped over your shoulder, until Scott turned your way with two more handfuls.

“If you put that down my shirt,” you warned, “I’m calling your mom.”

“You won’t.”

“Fuckin bet, bud.”

He dropped one hand slowly and turned to Isaac, “You’re on your own.”

While Scott chased Isaac across the parking lot, Stiles walked over toward the edge of the sidewalk, you following closely behind, interested to see what he was going to do with the mischievous look on his face.

With his foot, Stiles spelled out penis in the snow.

“Oh that’s mature.”

He glared at you, “Do better, I dare you.”

After a few seconds of thought, you spelled out send nudes and he had to concede defeat. Isaac came back a few seconds later, panting, cheeks red, and looked down, “Cute.”

“Thanks. Should I leave my Snap too?”

He rolled his eyes, “No.”

“You’re probably right. I have no interest in seeing an unsolicited dick pic this close to Christmas.”

“Just this close to Christmas?” Scott asked, “You’re okay with it the rest of the year?”

You paused, “Well no. Don’t make fun of me, my single braincell is still recovering.”

Stiles snorted, “Head empty snow day.”

“My mom will want a picture,” you told them, “set up the timer.”

It took five attempts, but you finally got one you were happy with. Isaac leaned over your shoulder, “Tell your mom I said hey.”

“Will do,” you muttered, looking at it again.

Scott stood on the right, eyes squinted with a wide smile, Isaac a bit behind him, one arm over Scott’s shoulder, one around you. Isaac’s smile was soft, looking straight at you. Stiles stood on your left, your arm wrapped around his shoulder, his hand reaching for yours, cheeky grin on his face while you glared playfully at him.

“Come on,” Stiles yelled, halfway up the stairs back to their apartment, “hot chocolate awaits!”

You hit send and followed after them, ready for another mug.

~

day eleven of @obxmermaid​‘s holiday challenge: playing in the snow

#college isaac #isaac lahey #isaac lahey x reader #isaac lahey fic #obxmermaidholiday

[hansolmates]

jjk; angel’s trumpet [04]

summary; one second, your life is flashing before your eyes and the next, you’re transported into a world exactly like your own. but the jungkook you meet in this world isn’t a renowned singer or your former almost-lover, in fact he has no clue who you are and why you know him so well. as you work to find your way home lost and confused, you conclude that you’re either dead or in the middle of the most wicked drug trip of your life. pairing; idol!jk x reader (f), alternatively film producer!jk x reader genre/warnings; fluff, angst, supernatural, idol!au, non-idol!au, alternate universes, themes of fate, language, alcohol consumption, mentions of smut in future chapters w.c; 5k a/n; lot of angst in this one!! if your heart aches i urge u to do what i do and hug some stuffies (my current fav stuffie is my bt21baby cooky) i hope u enjoy more of w1!jk, ty for all the love pls share and like if you enjoy!  

[03] [04] [05] -> masterpost

W1. 

Jungkook is strongly advised not to visit you. 

Jungkook has been strongly advised over the past two weeks not to visit you, despite the fact that visitors have been allowed since two days ago considering the fact that you are confirmed comatose. 

A coma. You’re in a coma. It’s weird how much the notion echoes in Jungkook’s thoughts, constantly nudging the back of his mind like a petulant child wanting an out. He’s never met anyone who’s been in a coma before, the condition only reserved for late night melodramas and medical movies. 

And in all of those shows, the person bedridden until further notice always looks like a wreck. He feels like ripping his heart out at the thought of you with tubes and liquids going in and out of your body, face ashen and devoid of any thought other than pain. He needed to see you, to support you even if you didn’t know. 

After days of persistence and Namjoon’s inability to say no to Jungkook, Namjoon agreed to let Jungkook swing by the hospital after his solo recordings. He couldn’t get there fast enough, knowing Namjoon is already there and probably taking care of you. 

He takes slow steps to your room, as if trudging through a sea of molasses. Careful to not let his combat boots strike the linoleum, he catches the tail end of a conversation. Your room is large enough for two patients, but so far you’re the only one checked in. There are three other people in your room, concealed by a thin curtain revealing them as shadows. Jungkook lingers behind, staring intently at the shadow of your figure laying in bed. 

“How inhiberated was your friend the night of the incident?” Jungkook’s presuming it’s your nurse, going over protocol. 

The second voice is Sehlyung, the bubbly coordinator who immediately befriended you the week you got hired. Her voice is no longer chipper, but strained and weak, as if she’s been crying for days. 

“I don’t know exactly how much,” she sniffs, “but it was a lot. She had a rough day, I—I just wanted to help her forget a little,” her soft cries reverberate throughout the white-walled room. “I should’ve, I should’ve helped her upstairs. I knew how messed up she was and I left her alone!” 

Jungkook’s fists clench beneath his hoodie, familiar moisture creeping into his eyes. 

Sehlyung’s words felt like a jab to his form, already aching at the wounds in his own heart. It isn’t the answer the nurse wants, but it seems like the poor woman has been holding in a lot of pent up stress. Namjoon’s trying to placate her, and Jungkook can see the way he’s patting your friend’s shoulder in a gesture of comfort. “No one’s blaming you, so please don’t blame yourself,” Namjoon’s words are like a balm to the proverbial wound, “Nurse, is it possible to project how long it’ll take until she wakes up?” 

“Hard to say,” your nurse replies, and has the decency to sound sad, “it could be weeks, or even months. Judging by her high amount of brain activity however, she’s predicted to awake with very minimal brain damage.” 

Brain damage? 

“Eventually her insurance will run out however, the longer we need to sustain her will depend on how much her cosigner—”

“Money will not be an issue,” Namjoon cuts in smoothly, almost sounding insulted that the nurse would even bring up such a thing. “We can’t put a price on our precious friend’s life.” 

As much as Namjoon’s words alleviated Jungkook’s initial anxieties, the question still stands. Will you come out of this the same person you left? How long will that take, weeks, months, years? He’s extensively Googled before this, reading way too many WebMD articles that he probably shouldn’t have, effectively skewing his perception on the matter. 

He fiddles with his hands in the kangaroo pocket of his sweater, clammy from the heat. You’re suffering, and just like Sehlyung, he’s trying very hard not to blame himself. 

•━━━━━━»•»💮💮💮«•«━━•••

W2. 

Angel’s Trumpet  Scientific Name: Brugmansia  Order and Family: Polimonailes and Solanaceae Summary: A higher order of nightshade, the Angel’s Trumpet is a show-stopping pendulous flower that hangs like bells. In myth, they were prized as chimes holding magical properties. In modern use, Angel's Trumpets have occasionally been used to create recreational drugs, but the risk of overdose is so high that these uses often have deadly consequences.

So you’re either dead or in the middle of the most wicked drug trip of your life. 

You push away from your MacBook, rolling over to your bed to mull. It’s near two in the morning, and you’ve channeled both your love for Buzzfeed Unsolved and your poster making skills in order to construct The Timeline. 

Using your somewhat solid memory from the past two weeks and Hoseok’s own timeline from his daycare shift, you spent the entire night plotting as to why you’re in W2 and how you can leave. 

Your plan of action is minimal, definitively so because there are no leads other than Sehlyung’s wine dealer, and Jungkook. 

Something must’ve been in the angel’s wine, something dangerous. You remember the sky flickering that night, wondering if you were hallucinating or very drunk. Scientifically speaking however, if you really are under the influence of this flower, the hallucinogens should’ve left your body by now. 

Unless it’s magic that brought you to this world. As absurd as it is, the notion of magic gets easier and easier to cite as the days go on. 

And if it is some form of magic, something tells you that Jungkook has something to do with it. But why? 

One: Jungkook’s birth flower, you muse. You think back to how vivid the ink appeared on Jungkook’s skin, how precious the design meant to him. It made you think back to your Jungkook, who couldn’t stop fidgeting as he was so excited to get some serious ink done when visiting a friend in Jeju island. How bright his face glowed after it healed and how proud he was to show it off. 

Two: The last thing Jungkook said to you. How coincidental must it be for him to specifically cite your relationship could work in “another world”? 

You’re definitely overheating your brain at this point, and you trudge yourself out of bed to make something to eat. If you were going to spiral, you were going to spiral with a full stomach. 

The pot as the water starts to boil, crackling and bubbling angrily because you are impatient and cranked up the heat to high. An open ramen block sits on the counter, ready to be softened. Suddenly, the door unclicks and you point your fork at the door. Panic fills you, wondering who could be visiting at this hour. 

“Home sweet home!” Taehyung cries, swinging the door open so hard that it reverbs and hits him in the forehead. However he is unfettered, flashing you a toothy smile as he dumps his luggage at his feet. “Care to open another ramen packet for me, roomie?” 

You lower your fork, remembering that Taehyung’s due to come back sometime this week. “Welcome back,” you exhale, forcing a smile as you watch Taehyung arrange his mess in a corner, “did you have a good trip?” 

“Yeah, Busan’s nice,” he replies easily, dumping his body on the couch. He looks the same, shaggy brown-black hair and mischievous chocolate eyes. He still has an affinity for earth tones and long coats that make his shoulders look good. Despite the fact that you always expect that their counterparts will look alike, it baffles you how easy it is to forget you’re not in your world. “What about you? Why’re up so late?” 

“My thesis was bugging me,” you lie easily, “I’m gonna work on it in the library tomorrow.”

“Ah, is that why you’ve been ignoring Jimin’s texts?” 

You stop swirling the noodles in your pot, looking up from your spot at the counter. “He told you?” 

Truth be told, you haven’t been exactly comfortable conversing with Jimin. You feel a little bad if your alternate self had a thing for the young man, but you know in your heart you definitely did not hold any romantic or sexual attraction towards him. 

“Duh. You’ve hurt his heart.” 

You scoff, dividing the pale yellow noodles and soup between two bowls. “Jimin’s a big baby, that’s why.” 

“C’mon, you love that big baby,” Taehyung jests, “have lunch with us tomorrow during his break,” his eyes are glued to the bowls in your hands, as you carefully walk over to place them on the coffee table. Like an eager puppy, he scrambles off the couch and onto the floor, joining you in your meal. 

You bite back a sigh, stuffing your face with hot noodles to give yourself some time. It still grossed you out that you supposedly hooked up with Jimin on the regular, but at the possibility that you were potentially messing up your alternate universes’ life still held you back for telling Jimin to kindly stop sending dick pics. 

“If you pick me up from the library tomorrow I’ll come,” you concede, “just don’t make it weird, okay? I’ve had a hard week.” 

“Done,” and that became that. 

Taehyung and you cite the silence as being exhausted from today’s events, and you two quickly scarfed down your meal and headed off to bed. Another day gone, and another day longer it takes for you to return to your world. 

•━━━━━━»•»💮💮💮«•«━━•••

“Your life’s totally an anime movie,” 

As much as you love Hoseok’s support, the fact that he’s so excited is a little unnerving. 

“You’re like an alien! Or Phil of the Future who’s trying to get back to his timeline!” 

“Hoseok…” 

“Right, right. Sorry. But think about it,” he jabs a finger in your notebook, citing the pastel pink sticky note where it’s crossed out. “If you fall in love with W2 Jungkook like W1 Jungkook implied, it’ll fulfill your prophecy and you can go back home! And then when you go back home, W1 Jungkook will realize he was being a pussy and then grovel at your knees for forgiveness and—”

“Please stop,” your head is throbbing. The fact that you’re talking about two Jungkooks is terrifying, because it was hard enough for you to handle one Jungkook on their own. “Even so, what’s to say that Jungkook and I really aren’t meant to be? It’s not like W1 Jungkook was wrong. He has a busy life and I know a romantic relationship could add extra stress on him.” 

A little part of you felt good to tell another person about your struggles between Jungkook and yours’ unnamed relationship. Of course, you had to catch yourself sometimes when you delve a little too much. Hoseok after all, doesn’t know either Jungkook. You also forget yourself, often muttering a variant of  “shut up Hobi you absolute Fruit Loop” when Hoseok gets too giddy. The Hoesok next to you is still just as new of a friend, not this co-worker you’ve spent the better half of two years with. 

But back to his theory, while there was no symbolic chime that signaled the start, it grew into a slow, easy love, at least for you. As your and Jungkook’s feelings grew, the more your panic bubbled to the surface. Was it a risk you were both willing to take? Evidently not, from the way Jungkook had slammed the door in your face. 

Another reason why you’re hesitant to test the falling in love theory—it’s too easy to fall in love with Jungkook all over again. It scares you. Without his music career in the way, what’s stopping you? 

Hoseok squeezes your hand at the way you stare so intently into your timeline, sending you a tender smile, “Don’t think so hard. Even so, a little date won’t hurt, right?” he whispers, picking up his things, “text me if anything happens. My kids are coming soon.”

You give him a halfhearted wave, leaving him to his shift at the daycare. You were so engrossed with the influx of information yesterday that you failed to ask Jungkook for his phone number. This meant that you had to do some intense social media stalking in order to find him. If he’s anything like W1 Jungkook, you’re going to have a hard time finding any updates from him.

“Excuse me? Professor?” 

Tilting your head from your notepad, you notice an undergrad had replaced the seat that Hoseok previously occupied. She’s a pretty thing, with long raven black hair and almond shaped eyes. You suddenly feel very ratty and underdressed as a professor, the leggings and oversized sweater with a questionable stain really giving off baked-potato vibes. 

“Do… yeon?” you say, remembering her from an email thread you sent a while ago. 

She beams, “Yeah! I’m so glad I found you. I know Professor Kim said he’d be absorbing your classes since you’re on leave, but I really need help with my final draft. Professor Kim tried to help me and…” 

“Let me guess,” you smirk, “his thoughts were way too convoluted and you need me to get straight to the point.” 

Doyeon snaps her fingers, “Exactly!” 

While apprehensive with medical knowledge, you can still find confidence in your essay grading skills. You spend the next half hour looking over Doyeon’s paper, pointing out how things she could improve on or articles she could cite. Soon enough, Doyeon texted two other members for her study group, saying that it’s a once-in-a-semester-offer to get some time with you. 

And you’re baffled at how easy it is to fall into this professor role. It makes you believe that if you really wanted to, being a professor would also be a perfect job for you. The students are buzzing around your table, excitedly whispering how happy they are to work with you after so long, and that they miss the way you teach your lectures. For two blissful hours, you forget your circumstance and keep your focus entirely on your students. 

A loud, obnoxious cough breaks you and your students out of their work bubble. Taehyung is tapping his Valentino loafers impatiently, holding a very large back of what seemed to be you and Jimin’s lunch. 

“Sorry kiddos,” Taehyung sing songs, already stuffing your work stuff in your bag, “she promised to go out and have lunch with mature adults.” 

“We’re literally like, a couple years younger than you,” Chan scrunches his face, sending you a pleading look. 

“Sorry Chan, I did say I was going to have lunch,” you concede, “but please email me if you have any more questions. Otherwise, you’re right on track!” 

You wave at the thankful students happily, and Taehyung literally has to drag you out by the arm and shove him into his Uber before you could relent. 

“Damn girl,” Taehyung chuckles, relieved to finally get you out of the library, “you didn’t hear me the first three times I was calling you. Chan looked like he was about to rip my head off!” 

You shrug lightly, “What can I say, the time really flew with them.” 

•━━━━━━»•»💮💮💮«•«━━•••

What a coincidence, you’re in the same place he is, again. More specifically, his new workplace. 

How is it possible that you have so many handsome friends? Jungkook is baffled by the way Park Jimin and the dark-haired friend feed you fries like you’re their precious daughter. In response, you scrunch up your nose and push them off, instead deciding to shove five fries in your mouth all at once. 

As much as he wanted to ask you out since you admired his tattoos yesterday, he can’t find it in him to go up and interrupt your lunch. Besides, he has work and he doesn’t want to complicate things if Jimin finds out he was the one responsible for nearly running you over the other day. 

If he walks fast enough, he can avoid any awkward interaction and make it to his office so he can give the day’s full report—

“Jungkook! Get your cute butt over here and meet my friends!” 

Crap. 

Trying not to glare daggers at his new co-worker, he places a thin smile on his face as he moves to your table in the corner of the cafeteria. He lets Jimin give the whole spiel on how he hired him, and Jungkook decides to hover awkwardly while the rest of you are sitting. The sun filters its way through the windows and bleeds brightly onto your body, making his throat dry and constrict in awe. Your expression is definitely more positive since that time at the library, and he wonders what he has to do to reach that level of contentment you’re sporting. 

“Guys, this is Jungkook. I just hired him last week. He’s like my son.” 

“Ewh,” the dark haired guy upturns his nose. “But hi, I’m Taehyung.” 

While Jimin goes into detail about how amazing he found his work, he can’t help but notice the fond smile that melts upon your face as you listen intently to Jimin. Jungkook wants to archive that expression on your face and save it to memory, the way you look so pretty with your chin nestled in your hand, turning your head slightly to gaze at him with a look of what—pride? Affection? 

“You sound like quite the artist,” you muse, “I would love to see some of your work if Jimin says it’s that good.” 

He rubs his head bashfully, clutching the camera hanging on his chest like an anchor. “Oh no, I’m just starting out,” he replies shyly, although he would be lying if he said he didn’t crave the attention you were bestowing on him. 

“He’s actually going out to Dongdaemun to get some stuff done for his portfolio,” Jimin pipes up, “hopefully get some good content for the commercial he’s filming.” 

“Oh, do you mind if I tag along?” you ask, picking at a hangnail, “I’ve always been so curious about the producing process.” 

Jungkook’s eyes dart between Jimin and his friend, noticing the telepathic conversation they’re exchanging between you two. Jungkook’s palms start to sweat, not because Jimin definitely wants to probe, but because you made the first move. You pay no mind to the boys, nonchalantly pushing in your chair as you practically float to Jungkook’s side. 

“Wait,” Taehyung recovers first, “you know him?” 

You agree with a vague wave of your hand, “we work in the same area.” 

Jungkook knows for a fact that’s not true, as you only started appearing in his life when he almost knocked you out. But Jungkook can only nod like a bobblehead, not wanting to get into the nitty-gritty. 

“I promise to stay out of your way,” you say, “but don’t feel pressured if you don’t want me to go at all!” 

“No no, I want you to come!” and Jungkook raises his voice a little too high to be deemed mannerly, and he watches you step back a bit at the sudden intrusion. His face is on fire, especially when there’s a little smirk grazing your lips. 

“Well if you want me, you’ll have me.” you flirt, gesturing for him to take the lead. 

Jimin and Taehyung’s faces have fallen flat. There’s a stray bit of limp lettuce hanging sadly  from Jimin’s lip as he watches Jungkook escort you out of the building. Meanwhile, Jungkook is swallowing the biggest smile on his face. He’s going to spend the rest of the day with you. He doesn’t know if he’s going to get a decent shot in because you’re a definite distraction, but it’s totally worth it if he can get to know you a little better. 

You mention that you haven’t walked around Seoul in a while. Jungkook wants to ask more about it, but as open as you display yourself, there’s definitely something guarding you. Jungkook wants to chalk it up behind the whole fiasco of mistaking him for someone else the other day, so he doesn’t want to step on those eggshells again. 

But Jungkook is here to work. So he tells you to walk on and lead the way to Dongdaemun while he gets ample footage of the city. 

He’s taking pictures of you along the way, but he decides to leave that part out. He likes the way your long red dress swishes in the breeze, the tail end of the fabric brushing against his legs whenever he gets too close. 

You stop in front of a pet store, face glowing as you point to their aquarium tank. “Look!” you cry, tugging his sleeve over as if you’re long lost friends, “it’s my boi Nemo!”

He cracks up at your joke, as you excitedly shout to Jungkook that “you found your son!” and it spurs him on to continue his peals of laughter. The joke isn’t that funny but it’s humorous enough coming from you and the smile on your face is enough for him to return one equally as big. 

“C’mon,” his fingers brush over the bare skin of  your forearm, sending sparks straight to his heart, “it’s getting dark. Just keep swimming.” 

Jungkook manages to get some good sunset content before the sky turns navy. He’s not a big fan of photographic tourism spots, but Jimin insisted that the big boss wanted a specific style for their company and he needed to get used to making the usual seem unique. 

Looking over his shoulder, he sees you swinging your legs on a nearby bench. You’re munching on a bubble waffle, cheeks puffed as you concentrate on the Cheonggyecheon stream, water babbling. 

He’s about to ask you if you want him to take a picture of you, because he thinks you would look beautiful with your dress billowing as you hop over the stones, but he notices the sadness in your face as you gaze at the water. 

Lowering his camera, he sees the way your chewing slows, as if you don’t feel like putting anymore effort in the action. Your dimmed gaze seems to peer into a different world, as if you could dive right into the water and transport yourself far, far away from here. 

Jungkook takes tentative steps, crouching down from your space at the bench so he would have to look up at you. His hand hovers to balance himself on your thigh, but he thinks better of it and decides to hold onto the wood. 

“Can I ask you something?” 

He doesn’t comment on the strain in your smile, “Sure.” 

“Do I remind you of y’know, him? Your Jungkook?” 

Your smile increases, and he doesn’t expect it. Shifting over, you pat the space next to him. It’s a tight fit, and your thighs brush his. “Yes and no. It doesn’t hurt or anything, really,” you answer softly, and you reach for his hand, pulling the long sleeves apart to reveal his tiger lily tattoo. He doesn’t believe your excuse for a damn second, but decides better than to speak against you. “He’s still around, even if he isn’t here. I guess I was just thinking about how we could never go out like this.” 

He tenses under your ministrations, and you immediately pick up on it like a sixth sense. “I’m not trying to replace him,” you add, and he tries to relax as you trace the petals on his arm, “I’m sorry if you felt that way. But it’s... impossible to compare you to him, really.” 

“So, would you be interested in seeing me again?” 

“I’d be upset if you weren’t, Kook.” you manage to pout, and you slide your hand down to thread your fingers between his. “Can I take you out on a date?” 

“Only if I can take you out on one after.” 

And it’s easy for the both of you to forget your circumstances, at least for tonight. 

•━━━━━━»•»💮💮💮«•«━━•••

Jungkook drops you off at your apartment soon after, and it feels nice to kick off your shoes and place your bare feet on your soft carpet. 

Your roommate’s feet are propped up, covered by a fuzzy grapefruit-colored blanket. Taehyung stretches his head from the couch to throw you a teasing smile, “Sooo, how was your night?” 

Instead, you point a finger at the flatscreen playing some Korean drama. “Is that Jin?” you balk.

Taehyung cranes his neck to where he paused the drama. The man on the screen is definitely Kim Seokjin, judging from the plush lips and irritatingly symmetrical face. He looks absolutely comical in his Joseon get up and mustache, and you’re not surprised that he made it to the acting industry. 

“Kim Seokjin? Yeahhhh,” Taehyung melts, relaxing into the couch, “that man is so fine I just want him to bend me over that little well and—”

You physically gag, causing Taehyung to break into peals of laughter, forgetting about his fruitless celebrity crush. Only you would never forget this interaction, the words currently searing  into your memory at the thought of seeing Seokjin and Taehyung in the same room when you manage to return. “So?” he goads, “Jungkook? He looked like a scared bunny when Jimin glared at him.” 

“It was… good,” you settle as an answer, reaching over to ruffle Taehyung’s messy bed head. “I like him, Tae.” 

“That’s good,” Taehyung nods, “you deserve more happiness in your life.” 

“You think so?” 

“I know so!” Taehyung jerks up, punching his fist in the air. You giggle at his antics, and he ushers you over to the couch, “good things are coming, y/n. I can feel it.” 

You don’t tell him, but you can feel it too. Sharing his blanket you snuggle further into the couch, asking questions about the famous actor Kim Seokjin and his litany of dramas he’s filmed under his belt. Tonight, falling asleep next to Taehyung, you have the best night’s sleep in weeks.

•━━━━━━»•»💮💮💮«•«━━•••

W1. 

Jungkook sits in your sickness. 

Namjoon says he doesn’t have to, doesn’t need to stay the night. You’ll be fine, your family will come in the morning and care for you. For once, Jungkook tucks his tail and says he wants to, even compromises to bring his work so he doesn’t miss a deadline. 

But he can barely get a bar in because he’s too focused on you, your form all-encompassing as he makes sure you’re well-taken care of. Sehlyung dropped off your things from the apartment, carefully packed neatly in a duffle bag you’ve never used. 

Soft, lo-fi hip hop plays from his computer speakers as he takes the time to nurture you, care for you. It’s dark outside, the only light emanating from the hallway and a dim desk lamp. He’s done his research, making sure to keep you as clean as you would like to be. He brushes your hair, takes the time to remove the tangles and pin it out of your face. His hands are slightly greasy when he’s done, and his hand falls to your hospital sleeve. 

“I wonder how I should wash your hair,” he says aloud, “maybe I can get a small basin or something? It’s not the first time I washed your hair, remember when you sprained your arm after we snuck around in Dongdaemun?” he smiles at your peaceful expression, neutral, “you were such a baby, didn’t feel like shampooing with one hand.” 

Talking is also good, too. They say that sometimes the patient can hear and recall conversations family and friends have shared. It’s a little jarring to them, almost like they’re drowning in their heads and unable to bubble up to the surface to reply, but it’s still reassuring to hear familiar voices. 

He massages your limbs with lavender scented baby lotion, making sure your body isn’t wasting away and stretches your fingers and toes. You’d have a fit if you didn’t do your whole lotion routine daily, wanting to be soft and huggable at all times of the day. He puts on a pair of pink bunny socks, making sure your feet don’t get too cold in the sterile room. 

Running out of things to talk about, he settles for singing along to his playlist, knowing how much you loved to fall asleep to the sound of his voice. He’s tired and he doesn’t feel one-hundred percent, but he hopes you appreciate the sentiment either way. 

Weaving through the wires and cords that sustain you he places your hand in his larger one. Jungkook wishes he could care for you everyday like this, treat your body like a temple and wait for you to wake up. Resting his head on the mattress, his soft locks brush against your thigh unkempt as he focuses on tracing words on your palm. 

Lavender. Chicken. Netflix. 

Your nurse steps in, giving Jungkook a polite wave as she does her nightly rounds. He mumbles a half-hearted greeting in response, immersed in working between the lines on your soft skin as he traces character by character. Your nurse is quick with her work as she checks things off on her iPad and checks the machines that keep them informed. As if she’s intruding on an intimate moment, she types her findings faster. 

JK. y/n. Still with you. Sorry. Love. 

Your hand twitches in his grasp. It’s minuscule, a brief curl of your fingers. The pad of your thumb barely brushes his knuckle and Jungkook’s reeling. It’s only half a second, but Jungkook cries “whoa!” and sits up straight, startling your nurse, “she’s moving!” 

Your nurse smiles sadly at the sparkles of hope in his eyes. “It’s only muscle spasms, Jungkook. It happens sometimes,” and she catches herself before Jungkook’s shoulders deflate and sink into the floor, “but see her eyes?” 

He blinks, watching as the nurse gestures to your face. She’s right, your eyes are movie, flickering back and forth. Your lids may not be open, but the movement is there.

“She’s either dreaming or really listening to you, Jungkook,” your nurse murmurs fondly, “make sure you keep her entertained, being in a coma is awfully boring.” 

Jungkook thanks her, sending a terse smile as she whisks herself away. He squeezes your hand firmly, wishing you would give him another sign. He feels like he’s chasing you now, reaching out to you, talking to you in hopes you’ll reply. It’s ironic, considering this time he’s not sure if you’ll turn around this time, bounce back as you once were. 

Wiping the wetness from his eyes, he tucks you in and scoots his chair closer to your bed. “Wake up soon, yeah? We’re waiting for you,” he whispers, holding your hand next to his head as he tries to fall asleep. 

Tonight, he’s dreamless. 

#jungkook fic #bts fic #goldenclosetnet #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook scenarios #bts scenarios