#any time she does anything with her hands

[imfinereallyy]

I wonder if you look both ways (When you cross my mind) pt. 2

pt. 1

🐝･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･✦ʚɞ

June 1996, Chicago

Steve doesn’t exactly know when Eddie Munson became one of his best friends, let alone when he fell in love with him.

He supposes both things occurred between the end of the world, and Eddie’s back walking out the door for the last time, unbeknownst to anyone. Though, that is five years of time, who’s to say when it really happened.

Dustin will argue the friend part. He likes to think it was he who brought them together (it certainly wasn’t; in fact, it put a real bump in the road for them). Dustin also thinks, which Steve is more inclined to think is true, that the two of them had become friends during Eddie’s slow recovery and Steve’s guilt complex, which made him feel responsible for him.

Which—ouch, Dustin—but years of therapy would prove him right.

Little shit.

Dustin doesn't know about the love part, though, and Steve doesn’t think much of the party knows except for one or two of the perceptive ones.

Looking at you, Lucas.

Robin likes to argue that Steve doesn’t know when he fell in love with Eddie because Eddie was different from everyone else.

Steve puts everything into love, moves fast, falls hard, and ultimately gets crushed by his own passion. Steve doesn’t know how to take things slow or wait around for the right person.

Until he did, with Eddie.

Steve managed to have a slow decent into the madness of loving a man like Eddie Munson. And he never did anything about it, although he didn't mind. Steve was okay with just being friends and loving from afar.

Until they weren't even that, and Eddie was gone.

Steve can't think about that now, instead he should probably worry about the man himself breaking into his apartment at 3 a.m.

"Get. Out." Robin hisses, breaking Steve from his thoughts.

Suddenly, Eddie stands. His hands thrust forward in a placating nature, and nervous energy radiates off of him. "Robin, please—"

"No, Munson. You don't get to disappear from our lives for five years, and then break into our apartment!" Robin whisper shouts, the metal bat waving around in her grip.

Steve still hasn't said anything, still unsure of any of it is really happening. But he can't help but warm at Robin's fierceness.

She will go down swinging for Steve, even against someone she cares about.

Fuck, he loved her.

"Give me one good reason not to bash your skull in with this thing, Munson. I dare you!" Robin took the metal bat and pushed it into Eddie's chest.

Steve gets a good look at him as he stumbles backward. He doesn't look much different—well that's a lie. He does look different; more tattoos, more piercings and Steve is pretty surprised to catch him wearing anything other than a band tee. It is just so all quintessentially Eddie. The jewelry is all silver, any tattoo he got after 1986 appears to be in black and red ink only. Even his tee is still black despite the lack of a band on the front.

"Birdie, I don't think you should have Steve's bat in your hands, you're a bit dangerous." Eddie tries to grab the bat from her hands but Robin yanks it back.

"Oh, fuck you, Munson! You don't get to call me Birdie, and this is my bat. Steve's is wooden and full of nails and underneath his bed. You should know that, or has the last five years really rotted your brain?" Robin is now waving the bat around with gusto, nearly missing Steve's head at one point.

Trying to shake himself from his frozen state, Steve decides it is probably in everyone's best interest if he steps in.

"Robs." Steve speaks gently, hand on the bat as he slowly lowers it down. Her shoulders drop, the fight draining out of her in seconds. "It's okay."

It's not okay. Steve doesn't understand what's happening right now. But Steve is okay as long as he has Robin, and Robin has him. Steve hopes she understands that's what he meant.

Robin nods her head, and shuffles closer to him.

Steve takes a shaky breath, "What are you doing here, Munson?"

Eddie cringes at the use of his last name but doesn't comment. "Listen, I know it's weird me just stopping by suddenly—"

Robin snorts, "I wouldn't exactly call breaking in 'stopping by'."

Eddie shakes his head, ignoring her. Stray curls start to fall loose from their bun. "I just want to talk, for you guys to hear me out."

Steve rubs a hand down his face, he is getting too old for this stuff. Being blindsided, being surprised—being thrown sideways and upside down. Sure, twenty-nine isn't exactly old, but Steve has lived practically six different lifetimes by now. There is so much damage to him—physically and emotionally. He is supposed to be past nonsense like this.

Robin takes his silence as permission to snip at Eddie, "No. Go away, Eddie. You don't get to do that. Get out."

Eddie moves a step forward, he is now illuminated completely by the side table's light. He looks tired—good but tired. It's not the kind of tired you see of someone in distress, not the ache that comes along in the tunnel that has no light in the end. No, Eddie looks tired in the way that comes with healing. Like working hard exhaustion. As if coming home from a long but good day at work, and the night grows weary.

Eddie opens his mouth to argue, but Steve cuts him off. "It's fine, Robbie. It's late; let him crash on the couch."

Eddie's shoulders sag in relief, "Thanks, Stevie, we can talk—"

"No." Steve chokes out, moving his hand towards his throat so he can remember to breathe. "You don't get to call me that. And we're not talking about anything. You'll sleep here, but that's it. I might not want you here, but it doesn't mean I'm going to let you wander the streets at night."

"Steve, please—" Eddie reaches out his hands to touch Steve. It is most likely going to be a gentle touch, but Steve can't help the way he violently flinches.

Eddie looks taken aback, eyes wide and full of sadness. He pulls his hands back.

"No, Eddie." Steve grabs Robin's hand and starts to pull her to bed. She doesn't protest and instead leans into his touch. Steve turns over his shoulder to look at Eddie again. "You'll stay the night. It's not an option. But my morning? I want you gone. I don't want you to be the first thing I see after sunrise."

Steve turns quickly back around, ignoring the pained grunt from behind him.

Bypassing Robin's bedroom, Steve pulls them both into his. Robin doesn't question it and instead makes herself comfortable in his forest green blankets.

Steve quickly follows after, snuggling into the bed beside her. People have thought them weird over the years—always in each other's spaces and knowing every little thing about each other. Partners, friends, family—all of them had something to say about it, never even bothering to understand.

Well, except Eddie. Eddie appreciated it, accepted it. Adored it at times.

"Are you really okay with this, Dingus?" Robin whispers softly between them.

"No." Steve never lies to Robin; she'll know. "Not at all, but I'm not going to let him wander the streets, no matter what I loved him at some point. I don't let the people I loved, get hurt."

Robin squints in pity, "Loved?"

"Not now, Bobbie," Steve whispers.

Robin nods, "Besides, I'm pretty sure 'Ed Sloane' can afford a fucking hotel room."

Steve lets out a loud snort, it echoes throughout the room. "God, don't remind me. What a stupid fucking name."

The two of them dissolve into giggles, bumping their heads together. Under the covers, they clasp their hands together tight. "I just don't want you to derail your life, for someone who walked so easily out of it. I know you have that important lunch with Drew tomorrow."

Steve takes a breathe through his nose, "Yea, I do. But it'll be fine. He'll be gone before I'm even up. You know Eds, he's a runner. Wouldn't stop trying to prove it, in fact."

Robin's face is scrunched in pain, and her eyes pool with pity. It's as if she knows something Steve doesn't or sees something he chooses to ignore. She doesn't comment on it, though. Instead, she raises an eyebrow, "Eds?"

It isn't snippy or accusing. Her voice is soft against his cheek. Steve doesn't have the mental capacity to argue though. "G'night, Birdie."

"Goodnight, Stevie." She whispers.

Steve closes his eyes, knowing it will all feel like a dream tomorrow.

Steve is familiar with having dreams with Eddie in them.

🐝･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･✦ʚɞ

more to come i promise, especially after your (loving demands). especially my mutuals who yelled at me in the tags and my dm's (it made my day).Part 3 is currently being typed up. Also might fuck around and make this a full-blown ao3 one shot; who knows.

tag list!:

@stevesbipanic @withacapitalp @emryyyyy09 @brainfugk @blueberrylemontea-fanfic

@slv-333 @thetinymm @connected-dots-st-reblogger @helpimstuckposting @dreamercec

@goodolefashionedloverboi @stripey82 @little2nerdy @anne-bennett-cosplayer @resident-gay-bitch

@ghostquer @sourw0lfs @devondespresso

(please let me know if you don't want a tag, I had to guess by the comments, and sorry if you’re getting a random tag after posting, I had to fix the tag list cause tumblr is weird)

#okay so now it is a thing #no more idk i promise #also this has a happy ending i promise #steddie #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #my writing #platonic stobin #platonic soulmates stobin #stobin #platonic with a capital p #steve and robin #I wonder if you look both ways (When you cross my mind) #ao3 #ficlet #angst #hurt/comfort

[dcxdpdabbles]

Based on this post here https://www.tumblr.com/ourrechte-blog/740959709140484096

Danny and the latest incarnation of the Demons ends up in Star City. They're doing ninja stuff as a way to get resources and find a way home. Green Arrow overhears mentions of "Great One" and "Demon's Head" and maybe Dani is there and gets called dahlia and it's misheard as Talia

Ollie: Batman, come over here and get your de-aged villains

Bruce: What makes you so sure they're mine?

Ollie: They're ninjas and their leader, who kicked my ass, is referred to as "Great One" so yes, I'm sure these are the League of Assassins under an alias. Or clones

Ra's finds this entire thing hilarious. Damian, not so much

Oliver is not having a good time. He noticed some shady activity going down in his city's underbelly and decided to investigate. Star City wasn't as crime-infested as Gotham, but it wasn't sunshine and rainbows either.

It was far better hidden, but corruption ran amok in his home, so he had to run around to get things fair. He noticed the ninjas only after a while of them being in town. At first, they seemed focused on gaining territory.

They moved from the poorest neighborhoods to the richest, slowly beating out the top dogs. It seemed the leader had the same mentality of prison- beat the toughest person on his first day and become the new number one. Usually, that wouldn't work with such solid and old operations, but somehow, the ninjas were doing it.

They cut off resources. It causes discord in the lackey's ranks. Pulled funding from who knows where. And Blackmailed the rest into submission.

It was a hostile takeover. A plague on the control of the criminal empires station in Star City.

And there was nothing Oliver could do to stop them. He felt like a fumbling medic during a pandemic. Too many areas were affected before he could arrive, and too many loose ends were tied before he could gather enough information to know what they were trying to accomplish.

He contacted the Justice League when it became clear that it was too much for his team to handle. They sent over Dinah Lace and Gregory Sanders (Much to the joy of his bi-heart), who helped him trace the pathway the ninjas were taking, but ultimately, they were unable to catch up.

"It's like chasing ghosts," Gregory complains, his red bandana moving with his mouth. His eyes are scanning the towering buildings, fiddling with his guns. "I see them for only a second, and they are much faster than any of my bullets."

"It doesn't help that one of them is a meta with a similar power to mine," Dinah agrees. She was the closest to the taller figure, attempting to use her Canary Cry to capture him. Imagine her surprise when the figure turned and returned a cry of its own, easily overpowering Dinah's and flinging her away. "We might need a Speedster"

"And a Bat," Olver sighs. "They're far too slippery. A Bat should be able to devise a plan that might work for them. My tactical strategies are falling short."

"How painful was that for you to admit?" Dinah asks with a smirk.

"I'm choking on my blood," He deadpans, causing her to laugh. At once, Olover's heart launches in his chest. She has the loveliest laugh. He throws her a smile that he knows is disgustingly gooey, and her eyes crinkle with the gentleness she reserves for him.

"I overheard them speaking for a bit before one of them heard my guns click," Gregory says, eyeing the two of them like he knows they are flirting but won't point it out. He's a spoilsport. "One of them identified the other. Does the name Talia mean anything to ya'll?"

Crude. Whatever good mood Olvier was in for making Dinah smile is crushed with sudden dread.

"Yeah, it does. Especially if it was anywhere near the words "Demon Head" or "Great One," He wearily. At Gregory's nod, he covers his eyes with one hand, feeling a headache build behind his right eye. It's a familiar headache. It usually pops up whenever Bruce Wayne's love life is mentioned.

"I'll call the Big Bad Bat. He'll get her to stop or kiss her. Whatever works. " Oliver sighs, even heavier than before.

"Why?" Gregory asks mystified

"That's Bat's ex."

There is a very long pause before Gregory's guns click again. A rigid set to his shoulders and rage appear in his eyes. "The young girl is Batman's ex? Good to know."

"Young girl? No, Talia is about my age." Dinah cuts in. "Are you sure she answered to Talia?"

The safety is switched back on as Gregory relaxes."Yes. She appeared to be twelve years old or so, with white hair and green eyes. Does that match Batman's honey?"

"Not even close. I mean, the green eyes, sure, but the rest is wrong." Oliver hums. "So we aren't dealing with Bat's girl, which is good for us. The League of Assassins is a pain. Also very dangerous."

Vigilante's eyes widen at the mention of the ninja group's name. "I heard of the organization but was unaware of the members. Is this Talia important in it?"

"She's the big boss's daughter," Dinah confirms. "Also, one of the bloodthirsty and cruelest members."

"That's not very nice," a young voice cuts in, startling the heroes. They leap away from the roof edge, watching a boy with glowing white hair flout over it, crossed-armed. "My daughter is a goddam delight."

"Ra's," Olver shutters. Yes, he looks younger and glowing, but Oliver would never forget that monster's face. He appeared often in his nightmares about the island.

The boy tilted his head. "You know me."

Oliver pulled the string of his bow, training the arrow on the figure; beside him, Gregory had his guns up and ready while Dinah had planted her feet in her preferred combat position. "I never forget a face."

"There is a version of me here," the boy hums, implying so many things that make the three heroes uneasy. "Maybe I wasted time gathering resources when I should have gone looking for the other Fentons."

"What do you mean by that?" Dinah demands, but the boy is already looking away and snapping his fingers.

"Guys! There are other Fentons here!"

Five figures fly up from over a building. Two are glowing, and three are wearing bulky power suits. Oliver's breath catches in his throat. Younger versions of the Demons. The same assisans whose abilities build Ra's empire and are the only ones to control them- the reason he is known as the Demon Head.

"That's great, Danny!" A girl with orange hair cries. She's inside the power suit, and Oliver knows her by her codename. Claw.

"Maybe we can have your dad make us some fudge." A dark-skinned boy licks his lips. He also appropriates a power suit but seems far more decked out for support. Makes sense, seeing as he obviously Scales.

"Let's go. The faster we get home, the faster I can make Vlad by me an island." A glowing teen rolls his eyes. His flaming hair does nothing to take away the fact he is Fang.

"Which way?" the little girl, Talia, asks, making a small circle in the air.

"I saw we find destruction and follow that. It's bound to lead us to them. We can cause chaos on the way." The last girl offers. She points the hand of her supersuit to the west with a nasty grin. It's Shadow. "Can't be worse than the Black Plague incident."

"How was I supposed to know the rats were dangerous!" Ra scoffs, face red in embarrassment. Which would have been amusing if he didn't just admit he caused thousands of lives to end. Oliver really does not like the implications one bit.

"Everyone. Don't you read any history books?"

"I don't need no books to tell me. I was there!"

Oliver thinks they are distracted enough to risk taking a shot. His bowstring snaps into place as his arrow flies towards the closest one. Claw's reaction time is as fast as he remembers because she had already shot the arrow out of the sky before it could go anywhere near Talia. The foam meant to hold her in place burst, covering the six from view.

Gegory's bullets hit it seconds after, burying deep within the hardened foam. The sharpshooter springs to the right, looking for a better target, but it's in vain.

When the foam falls, everyone behind it is gone, and Oliver is reminded that they face ninjas. Gregory lowers his weapon with a frustrated click of his tongue.

What in the world was going on! They were all de-age and somehow powered up. None of this was good.

"We need to call Batman," Dinah says in the silence. "This may be out of our league even with them turned into children."

#dcxdpdabbles #dcxdp crossover #Demon Head slightly to the Left #Part 1 #oliver Queen is not having a good day #Danny Dan Dani Jazz Tucker and Sam are in a different dimension #Danny is Ra's #I love Gregory Sanders when I watched Justice Leauge unlimited #I want him back #Morally grey Danny and Co.

[mochiwrites]

Jellie tends to be a very curious cat, sometimes. She likes poking her nose into places it doesn’t belong, or snatching things from Scar and Grian when they catch her interest.

Maybe Scar should’ve known better, then.

He sits in his and Grian’s bedroom (it’s been theirs pretty much after the second month Scar moved in), a ring in his hands. The metal is cool against his palm, a soft rose gold. The band isn’t anything special, a simple engraving in it. Scar knew Grian would throw a fit if he found out Scar spent so many diamonds on the ring. So he tried to get something reasonable.

He can spoil Grian with the actual ring.

If he says yes, that is. Just the thought makes a shiver run of Scar’s spine. Is he really doing this? He and Grian have only been together for a year and a half, but Scar just knows that he’s the one. There isn’t any doubt in his mind about it. But does Grian feel the same?

Jellie jumps up on the bed next to Scar, meowing at him. She brushes her head against his arm as she settles beside him, and Scar smiles. “Well hello there beautiful lady. Are we requesting pets?” he teases as he brushes a hand through her fur. She curls up close to him, leaning into his touch. Scar sighs softly, scratching behind her ear. “I don’t know Jellie… do you think he’ll say yes?” he asks quietly. She stares blankly up at him. “Yeah okay, fair enough.”

Past their bedroom, the front door opens and shuts. “Scar, I’m home!”

Scar jumps up, disturbing a content Jellie. He shoots her an apologetic look, giving her one last pet. But the most crucial piece?

He makes the mistake of leaving the engagement ring on the bed.

As Scar walks out the room to greet his boyfriend, Jellie takes to making their bed her own. Yet as she moves, the shiny ring catches her attention. She tilts her head, curious about the shiny object. Sticking a paw out, she swats it. Again. And again. And again. Until the ring tips over the side of the bed, dropping to the floor with a ‘plop.’

Her pupils widen in that playful way they tend to do, wiggling before she pounces.

Oblivious to what his cat is doing, Scar is sweeping his boyfriend into a hug. “How was work?” he questions, looking down at Grian with a curious yet soft gaze.

“Tiring,” Grian huffs, content to melt into Scar’s grasp. He lifts his arms, returning the embrace as he does so. “I had to remake the blueprint at least five times until the guy was happy with it.”

Scar winces, “Eesh. Now I’m kind of glad he only wanted you to meet with him.”

Grian glowers at him in return, though the look is entirely playful. “Yeah, yeah.” He leans up, brushing their lips together in a soft kiss. “Consider yourself lucky.”

“I think I will, thank you.” Scar grins, stealing a kiss. “How does a movie and dinner sound?” He bumps their noses together as he smiles.

“Let me think about it,” Grian hums, booping his nose against Scar’s as he does so. “As long as there’s ice cream after.”

Scar lets out an affronted gasp, pulling away. “I’m offended you think there wouldn’t be ice cream after all!” he says as he walks toward the kitchen. “Go sit! I’ll grab the takeout leftovers.”

Laughing, Grian takes his shoes off and heads over into their living room. He finds Jellie there, playing with something caught between her paws. He fondly shakes his head at her, “What do you have now, miss?”

Jellie looks up at him with a meow as she swats at whatever it is she’s deemed her new toy, chasing at it. However, said mystery object knocks into Grian’s foot, and he gets it first.

Leaning down, Grian picks up what appears to be a rose gold ring. He inspects it in his hand, eyebrows knit together as he does. “Where did this come from?” He blinks at it, looking down at Jellie. “Did you rob someone?”

Jellie sits in front of him, slowly blinking. The perfect picture of innocence.

Shaking his head with a faint laugh, Grian looks at the ring again. His heart skips a beat as he really takes in the detail of it. He certainly didn’t buy it. Did Scar? And if he did then….

Heart a little louder, he turns to his boyfriend. “Hey, Scar?”

“Yes, love of my life?”

“Any clue what this is?”

Scar walks into the living room, the soft crackles of a furnace behind him. He pauses when he notices what Grian is holding in his hand. His eyes go wide, looking a little pale. To the side of Grian, he spots the movement of Jellie’s tail, and looks directly at her. “Traitor,” he mutters.

“Scar?” Grian questions, confused and… maybe a bit nervous.

“Haha uh… any chance we can forget this all happened and revisit it like. Next month?” Scar weakly chuckles, the epitome of nerves as he looks at Grian.

“What’s going on?” Grian’s brows furrow in confusion, a bit of concern leaking into his expression.

Scar knows trying to lie about it is practically pointless. Grian is too curious and too stubborn to let it go. And now that he’s seen the ring… Scar takes in a shaky breath. “Void, alright. Guess we’re doing this.”

He walks over to Grian, “May I?” He gestures for the ring, and Grian slowly nods. He hands the ring over to Scar, who accepts it with shaking hands. “Okay.” Scar sucks in a breath, unbelieving that he’s really doing this right now.

Slowly, Scar drops down on one knee in front of Grian, watching the way the other’s eyes go wide. But something about the position doesn’t feel quite right. Brows furrowing, Scar sets his other knee on the carpet below. “G? Mind kneeling with me here?” he asks, to which Grian nods. He joins Scar on the carpet, kneeling with him as well. “Much better,” he hums, pleased.

“Scar what?” Grian questions, lost and confused, and goodness his heart is beating so fast.

“I uh, I had a whole thing planned out, but Jellie seems to have thrown a wrench into all that,” Scar chuckles. “But it’s fine! I can improvise, who needs a plan?” He does. He needs a plan. Shaking his head, Scar reaches for one of Grian’s hands, grasping it in his own. He takes a measured breath, and begins to speak.

“I love you. More than words will ever be able to describe, G. You’ve done so much for me, more than I think I’ll ever be able to thank you for. You found me on the street, and despite being scammed by me, you still offered me a roof to live under, and a home to heal in.” Grian’s eyes are focused on him, listening with rapt attention. His gaze only worsens Scar’s nerves, heart beating a mile a minute. “You’re stubborn and witty, and sometimes you steal the blanket from me.”

Grian laughs.

Scar loves the sound.

“You don’t let me wallow in self pity, or memories of the harder times. You’re endlessly kind to both myself and Jellie, and everyone around you, even if your patience runs a little thin and you get snippy. We may get into a minor disagreement here and there, but you always come back around to me.” Scar smiles softly at him, so painfully fond and loving. “Back on that world… I never thought I would get to live life again. Or even enjoy the night sky without being afraid. It felt like a part of me was always missing, but I found that part with you.”

“Scar…” Grian trails off, face going red.

“G, you’re my home, my light. I want to spend every day waking up next to you and messing up pancake batter with you,” Scar laughs, the sound wet and shaky. Grian laughs with him, sounding just as affected. “I want to hold you on your bad days, and on your good ones. I want to be there through everything, for the rest of our lives. You’ve reminded me what it’s like to live and love, what it’s like to be me. There’s no one else for me, my heart and souls are yours.”

Scar swallows, holding the ring out to him. “So… will you entangle your life with mine forever? And marry me?” His expression turns bashful as he asks, and Grian is red in the face.

“You…” he trails off, amazed and in disbelief all at once. He looks between Scar and the ring, and he shakes his head. “I’ve been trying for days to find the perfect way of proposing to you, and you go and pull the rug right out from under me,” he laughs. “Curse how perfect you are sometimes.”

“C’mon G, you’re really leaving me hanging here!” Scar whines at him, making Grian laugh all over again.

Grian wraps his arms around Scar’s shoulders, pressing their lips together. “Yes, you spoon. I don’t want anyone else. Just you.”

If their neighbors hear how loudly Scar yells, well… it’s a warm congratulations to the newly engaged couple.

Jellie watches her humans cry in each others arms, tail flicking lazily at her side. She better get extra treats for this.

(It’s only later, when they’re sitting on the couch, curled into each other, that Scar realizes what Grian said. He turns to him, “Wait, you were planning to propose too?”

Grian snorts with laughter, “Hadn’t even picked out a ring, but yes Scar, I was.”)

#mochi writes #secret husbands au #scarian #hermitshipping #don’t mind me just sobbing and wailing #they make me SO??????? #the softness. I am Melting

[alastor-simp]

Enchanting Lullaby - Insomniac Alastor x Sea Siren Reader

❥Summary: Everyone in the hotel knows that Alastor does not sleep, but what happens when he seeks you out and makes a request only you can provide for him.

❥Tags: Alastor x reader, sea siren, siren reader, insomniac, insomniac alastor, alastor does not sleep, fem reader

❥Notes: I am OBSESSED with siren songs. I find them so hypnotic and beautiful, so I wanted to write a story with a siren reader with Alastor. Wanted to give a shoutout to my friend ValerieWinks777 for helping me with this story. I recommend checking her out on Wattpad, she does amazing Alastor x reader stories.

Spending years in hell, forming unbreakable deals and ripping apart demons in his broadcasts have harden Alastor to put aside certain feelings and tasks, including sleep. Well, he used to sleep during the time when he was alive, honestly he is surprised he even could after all the horrible murders he committed. He didn't just decide one day that he wasn't going to slumber anymore, this change started slowly. Indulging gleefully in the wrath he enjoyed created new enemies, enemies he knew posed no threat, but the longer that list got, the less often he slept, as he rather stay awake and attack them head on if any of them even considered wanting to mess with the radio demon.

A couple days after the extermination war and rebuilding the hotel, it had gotten surprisingly more busy with new demons arriving to gander at the hotel, and possibly consider joining. Charlie had been working like a mad women, tending to make sure everything was perfect for the guests and also trying to lessen some of the workload on the others. She greatly appreciate everything that happened before, so she didn't want them lifting a finger with anything. Alastor, however, was not one to just stand there and not offer his assistance. He may still consider the hotel a bunch of wack-a-doo nonsense, but he has grown fond of Charlie and her beliefs, also considering how much of a gentleman he was, he wasn't going to let poor Charlie do everything herself. Charlie waved her hands in the air, saying profusely that it was okay and Alastor didn't need to help, but Alastor was persistent. "Ah ah ah. Charlie, my dear. As the facility manager of the hotel, it is substantial for me to offer my assistance. Now then! What humble tasks need to be dealt with?" Alastor said with a smile, as he bent down, putting his face closer to Charlie's. Charlie gave a sigh and small smile back to Alastor and told him of the assignments that needed to be done for today.

Alastor went about and began completing each task, stockpiling the drinks for the bar, making sure the rooms were all spick and span, obtain groceries for the kitchen and also prepare dinner for later tonight. Alastor had finally reach the end of the tasks and softly heaved a sigh. Performing small things like this was nothing to him, as he preferred to finish the job quickly and properly and not dwindle on it, but he had used a great amount of his powers to fulfill each one of them, causing him to feel more drained then usual. Alastor, for the first time, felt the need to take a good due rest, but he knew it wasn't going to be easy since it has been a millennium since he last slept. Pondering through his thoughts, he came up with an idea that could help him, as he made his way upstairs.

Knocking on your door, Alastor patiently waited, as the door to your room opened, with you standing on the other side of it, wearing your cozy pajamas. You looked up at Alastor with a smile, head tilted to the side. "Oh good evening, Al. Is there something you needed?" Alastor smiled down at you, showcasing more of his teeth. "Yes, my dear! I have encountered a bit of a dilemma and I need your assistance with the matter. Would it be alright if you could come to my chambers?" He observed your eyes glaze with confusion before you nodded your head, and walked out of your room, closing the door behind you. Alastor had hooked his arm with yours, as the both of you walked towards his hotel room.

Upon entering his room, you glanced around his room, admiring the pocket dimension he had created. It gave a calm tranquil vibe in the room, along with the static music playing from the radio in his room. Al had said nothing when the both of you had entered his chambers, and you wondered if he was displeased with something. "Um.... Am I in trouble?" You question him, twiddling your fingers together. Alastor quickly turned back around to face you, eyes widen before going back to normal, while a soft smile was placed on his face. "Heavens no! You are no form of trouble my dear, I can assure you. There is just something I need from you however." He walk closer into his room, removing his coat jacket and setting it on the chair next to his desk, revealing his red striped shirt that was hidden. He ventured closer to his bed, removing his black shoes before taking a seat on it while crossing his legs. His eyes went back up to look at you, extending his hand out, inviting you to join him.

Your face flushed for a bit, as you made your way over to where Alastor resided, taking a seat on his bed, facing him. The both of you sat in silence, before Alastor broke it. "If my memory serves me correctly, your demon form is similar to that of a sea siren. Am I correct, my dear?" He turned to face you, peering down at you while you looked at him. Your answer to his question was a small nod. "Splendid! That will be quite useful for me!" Alastor seemed almost giddy with joy, making you feel a bit confused. "Can I ask a question?" You asked Alastor. Alastor continued to stare at you, telling you to go ahead. "Why is my nature going to be beneficial for you?" Alastor eyes gazed into yours, as they were filled with confusion. Heaving a sigh, Alastor slowly grabbed your hand, giving it a soft squeeze. "As much as it pains me to say this, but I need your help, darling. I am aware of the soothing hypnotic voices of sirens, how there gorgeous songs allure sailors. I am asking you if you could sing for me, my dear." Alastor smile almost dropped a bit, his face holding a slight melancholic look as he continued to stare at you. You continued to look at him, before you asked him why you needed to sing to him.

Alastor heaved another sigh, rubbing his hair with his other hand. "It has been a drastically long time, since I have enjoyed the comforts of my own bed. However, falling asleep has not been an easy task for me, and along with the chores that I have completed for sweet Charlie. I crave a good rest now more then ever." Upon observing his face, you noticed the dark circles that appeared underneath his eyes. His smile as well seemed a bit forced, almost as if he was having a hard time keeping it up. Your heart ached for him, as you placed you squeezed his hand that was still holding yours. "I will help you Alastor, but there is something you have to do for me." Alastor raised an eyebrow at you, asking what it was that you needed. "Well, could you use your powers to soundproof the room? My siren voice may reach the others, and cause them to fall asleep as well." SNAP! Within an instant, Alastor had snapped his fingers, preventing any sound from reaching out the room.

With a nod of your head, you moved further back on the bed, waiting to make room for your transformation. A dark light enveloped your form, as your body became covered in black and white scales, and your legs had morphed together into a long mermaid tail, causing your pajama pants to slide off. Alastor continued to gaze at you in amazement, finding your form truly haunting while incredibly beautiful. Once you had completed your transformation, you leaned back against the pillow, raising both your hands up towards Alastor. Alastor stood stiff, confused at your actions. "Come here." you said, keeping your arms stretched out. Alastor realized what you meant, his cheeks become a tad flushed. "M-my dear, there is no need-" His words were cut off, as you pulled him down. His head had landed on your chest, as his whole body was placed on top of you, with his legs rested on your lower tail. Your arms wrapped around him, placing one against his hair, giving it a rub. "Shh its alright Alastor. I just want you to be comfortable okay?" Alastor hadn't moved when he was on top of you, apparently not use to actions like this. His body soon began to relax, as he nuzzled closer into your chest, moving his arms to wrap them around your back. His actions caused a soft smile to appear on your face, as you continued to play with his hair. "I'm going to start singing now, are you ready?" You looked down, waiting for his answer. Alastor peaked one of his eyes out from your chest, giving you a small nod. Giggling at his cuteness, you moved the hand from his hand to rub at his cheek, before placing it back on his red locks.

Taking a few deep breaths, you leaned your head back against the pillow. Soon, you opened your mouth, and began to sing.

(THIS SONG IS SO SOOTHING, I LOVE IT!!)

𝄞 Upon one summer's morning, I carefully did stray

Down by the Walls of Wapping, where I met a sailor gay

Conversing with a bouncing lass, who seemed to be in pain

Saying William, when you go, I fear you will never return again

My heart is pierced by Cupid

I disdain all glittering gold

There is nothing can console me

But my jolly sailor bold

His hair it hangs in ringlets, his eye as black as coal

My happiness attend him wherever he may go

From Tower Hill to Blackwell, I'll wander, weep and moan

All for my jolly sailor, until he sails home

My heart is pierced by Cupid

I disdain all glittering gold

There is nothing can console me

But my jolly sailor bold

My name it is Maria, a merchant's daughter fair

And I have left my parents and three thousands pounds a year

Come all you pretty fair maids, whoever you may be

Who love a jolly sailor that ploughs the raging sea

While up aloft in storm, from me his absence mourn

And firmly pray, arrive the day, he's never more to roam

My heart is pierced by Cupid

I disdain all glittering gold

There is nothing can console me

But my jolly sailor bold

My heart is pierced by Cupid

I disdain all glittering gold

There is nothing can console me

But my jolly sailor bold 𝄞

Your beautiful song had ended, leaving the room in a calming silence. Looking down, you motioned your head to look at Alastor. His head was still nuzzled on your chest, the one eye that had peaked to look at you had closed. His breathing was slowed and he was letting out small static-like snores and a few purrs. Smiling warmly, you leaned closer to his head, giving it a soft kiss. Your hand left his head, and began to reach for the blanket nearby on the bed, motioning it to have it lay over both you and Alastor. You placed your hand back on his hair, giving it a comforting rub, as you leaned back against the pillow, whispering, "Good night Alastor."

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#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #sea siren #siren #sleeping with sirens #siren song #ASMR #my jolly sailor bold #insominac #alastor x reader #alastor x female reader #alastor x siren reader #x reader #Youtube #youtube music #pirates of the caribbean #mermaid song #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor hazbin hotel #the radio demon x reader #alastor the radio demon #sea siren reader #sea creatures #hazbin hotel fanfiction #new fanfic #fanfiction #insomniac alastor #soft alastor #alastor hazbin #alastor

[rebeliz7]

Ride

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Request: 28, 37 & 64 with Wan? R is in love with Wanda but Wanda is between R and Vision and every time R tries to talk to her about it Wanda just gives excuses and R feels like Wanda just like her for the sex but Wan realizes she's in love too.

Word Count: 2815

28. “I don’t want to hear your excuses anymore.”

37. “You’re n-not ,um, w-wearing anything under that, are you..?”

…

Vision is - a good guy. He’s the kind of guy that any woman could date and be certain that he’d never hurt them. He’s reliable and polite, and nice to talk to. He’s a good friend, and even a better partner to have in the field. 

He’s been in love with Wanda for the entirety of his existence. You don’t think he even knew what love was when he fell for her, and still. 

They make a good looking couple, and Wanda seems to fit in his arms. Especially when they’re dancing like they’re currently doing. 

There’s a part of you that wants to desperately go over there and ask him to remove his hands from Wanda’s waist, but she’s not your girlfriend and you’re not generally a jealous person. 

Still, jealousy beats underneath your skin and you don’t like it. You don’t like it at all. 

Before Wanda, and before you got tangled in this situation, you used to despise jealous people and the feeling as a whole. You didn’t quite understand it either, and you often thought that jealousy was just a response to insecurity. 

There is no room for insecurities with Wanda, you know exactly where you’re standing with her. You two are not in a relationship, and you hate to feel possessive of her but you also can’t help it. Just looking at Vision touching her, as innocent as he does now -as he always does-, is enough to drive you mad. 

You turn in your seat, trying to spare yourself from the visuals any longer.

Usually you’d be enjoying a night like tonight. You like to dress up, put on some make up, do you hair and pick a nice outfit to wear. You should be mingling, trying to befriend whatever new person Tony is trying to impress, because that’s what these little parties serve for after all. 

Tonight you sit by the bar by yourself, nursing a drink and although dressed to the nines, you don’t feel like talking to anyone. 

“Can I get some water?” You haven’t even noticed the music changing, even less so Wanda approaching the bar. 

She looks radiant, of course. Her cheeks are flushed the slightest bit, you guess from all that dancing, and she’s smiling widely when she meets your eyes and you’re pulled into her orb immediately. 

“Hi.” You smile and her smile twists into something else, something more meaningful and private. 

“Hi.” She husks out, her voice dropping lower as she walks closer to you and takes the glass of whiskey from your hands to take a drink, her eyes never leaving yours. 

“Thirsty?” You ask as she gently gives the glass back and takes a discrete step backwards. 

She very openly checks you out, her eyes traveling from your face and taking every inch of you where you sit before she meets your stare again. You don’t shy away from her, but you do have - other reactions. 

“Very.” She nods with a sly grin that does inexplicable things to you. 

You breathe in deeply, perhaps in a weak attempt to get a grip of yourself, and you take the opportunity to really look at her too. 

She’s wearing a casual loose black mini dress that looks ridiculously good on her, and that does nothing to conceal the curves you know are under it. Her high heels make her legs look longer than usual, and her hair is down in soft meticulous waves that mixed with that smile, give her an angelic yet sensual appearance altogether. 

“You look amazing.” You smile when you meet her eyes, and she raises an eyebrow in amusement. 

“I feel like you’re talking to my legs.” She says with humor, and you become incredibly desperate to kiss that smile off her lips. 

“Well, obviously.” You reach out as she laughs and you take her hand to pull her closer to you. She wraps one arm around your shoulders and even kisses your cheek, all normal things that can be taken as two friends interacting and nothing more. 

“You look really hot with this.” She whispers, close to your ear, and her hand running down the front of your blazer. 

You swallow with difficulty as she steps backwards again, this time to take the water the waiter has finally brought her. 

She drinks her water and you become entranced with the movement of her throat, and the way her lips stay wet after she puts the glass down. 

Your stomach begins to ache when you can’t control the desire you feel for her, and all that ache slowly travels southwards and you don’t think you can wait another minute to have her. 

“Come on.” You take her hand and you don’t wait to hear an answer, although she’s laughing as she practically jogs behind you to keep up as you pull her out of the suite and towards the elevators. 

The moment the doors of the elevator slide closed you’re kissing her. She’s about to tell you something when you do, and you catch her open mouth in a delicious and drowning kiss. 

She moans softly as she wraps her arms around your shoulders, and you push her against the metal wall. 

You kiss her fully, your hands on her waist as the taste of her cherry lip gloss invades your senses. Even more so when you let your hands travel further down her body and you don’t feel any other fabric under her dress. 

“You’re n-not ,um, w-wearing anything under this, are you..?” You ask against her lips, your throat now dry while you think about her walking and dancing all night long like this. 

“Why don’t you find out.” She husks, her lips gracing yours as she speaks and you feel your knees go weak. 

You swallow with difficulty as your brain short circuits. Your stomach is tied in knots and you’re pretty sure that you’ve never felt as turned on as you feel right now. 

“We need to get to my room.” You tell her with urgency, and she smiles provocatively. 

“You’re taking me to bed?” She asks with an innocent smile that doesn’t fool you at all. 

“Who said anything about a bed?” You retort as you run your hands down her legs, scratching her skin lightly as she combs your hair back with her fingers and you kiss her again. 

You kiss her until the doors slide open, and she’s pushing you lightly with a beautiful smile on her raw kissed lips.

…

You remove her dress as soon as your bedroom door falls shut behind you, and she laughs at your impatience. You, on the other hand, are not laughing at all because she hasn’t been wearing a thing beneath that dress and the realization makes your skin prickle. 

“You’re such a bad girl.” You tell her as you guide her towards your bed. 

“Only because I know you love it.” She teases you, licking your lips and your jaw before she steps backwards and lays on your bed willingly. “Well? Are you gonna make me beg?”

You stare at her and you can’t believe her audacity. A few minutes ago she was dancing with a man who she knows is in love with her, and now she’s here, wet and ready for you to do whatever you want with her. 

You don’t make her beg. You could never. No, you live to give her whatever she wants. You yearn to make her cum as many times as she can resist. 

Your face between her legs and your lips wrapped around her clit, you have the pleasure of making her cum and hearing her moan your name, over and over again. 

While she catches her breath you get rid of your clothes, and then you immediately lay on top of her, wanting to feel her body against yours and desperate for a little release yourself. 

“Baby.” She whispers against your ear as she wraps you in her arms, and accommodates your thigh between her legs while pushing hers against your wet heat. “You’re so wet. I love it.” 

Her easy laughter makes your chest flutter, and you kiss her cheek as you try to find a rhythm with your hips. 

“Of course you do.” You smile and she gasps when you push your hips particularly hard. 

“I want to taste you.” She rolls on top of you, and kisses you needly before she kisses down your body wantonly. 

She doesn’t make you beg either, and the visual of her between your thighs, eyes locked with yours as she eats you out without holding back in the slightest, is enough to push you towards the edge. 

You’re laughing when you come back to your senses, and she’s already peppering your face with sweet kisses and a wide grin on her lips. 

“Wanna put on the strap for me?” She asks mischievously, biting her bottom lip as she waits for an answer. 

“What are you thinking?” You ask as you roll the two of you in bed again. Your lips kissing her cheeks, her jaw, her lips.

“I’m thinking - ” she cups your face, a devilish smile on her lips. “You look really well under me and I really want to ride you.”

You swallow thickly, and the next second you’re promptly getting the strap. 

The process of getting it on catches you both in a fit of laughter, but is comfortable and familiar, and you’re caught thinking that you’ve never had this feeling of belonging with anyone before. 

“Lay down and do nothing.” She instructs you when you’re ready, and you swiftly follow her orders.

You watch her take the toy in her hands as she sits on her heels beside you, that smile never leaving her lips as she strokes the fake dick and sends shots of pleasure directly to your clit each time she moves. 

“You want me to suck you?” She asks and you laugh as she moves to sit on your thighs, her hands never stilling. 

“I kinda do.” You nod and she leans forward to plant a sweet kiss on your lips before she crawls down the bed. 

To say that watching her give you a blowjob is the most bizarre thing you’ve ever seen, would be a poor understatement. Not that you don’t use the strap often, you do, whenever you feel like it. But she’s never offered to suck you before, and you think you might have been missing out. 

There’s something about her and her lips as she bobs her head up and down, her eyes never leaving yours as she struggles to breathe and stubbornly wanting to take the whole thing in her mouth at once. 

But there’s a moment when she comes out for air and she looks at you, and you think you can’t wait another second before you’re inside of her, and she seems to have the same thought. 

Grabbing her hand you pull her up and kiss her messily, and almost desperately. She moves to straddle you and you both work on lining the toy with her entrance before she sinks down on it with a heavy sigh and trembling body. 

For a few seconds she just sits there, and you try to stay still. Her head is thrown back, her hands squeezing your thighs behind her as she swallows and breathes in and out. 

You watch her and you know you want her. You want her for good, for yourself and you need to tell her that. 

When she finally moves her hips and her eyes meet yours again, you know you love her and you think she might love you too. 

She wasn’t kidding when she said she wanted to ride you. She does that enthusiastically for a little while, and when you grab her and roll on top of her, she moans out your name in the most delightful way. 

Her nails are digging on your back as you thrust your hips and fuck her against your mattress as hard as you possible can. 

And when she cums, a tidal wave of pleasure showers you as well, and you cum along with her. 

“I want you.” You tell her as you look up, the toy still buried in her. 

“Again?” She asks breathlessly and amusedly.

“I want you, Wanda. I want to be with you, and I want to be the only person in your life.” You tell her and her smile drops. 

“Let’s not do this tonight, please.” She seems to beg, her hands on your face now, trying to placate you like she’s done many times before. 

“I love you, and I want more than this. I deserve more than this.”

She looks away, still trying to catch her breath and pushes you off of her to be able to get out of bed. 

For a moment all you can feel is rejection, but you take a deep breath as she hurries to grab her dress from the floor and you get up too. 

You throw the damn strap away and you pick up a long shirt and put it on, if only to maintain some sort of dignity in the upcoming exchange. 

“Don’t you dare to leave like this.” You tell her when you see her grabbing her heels and heading for the door.

“What do you want me to say?” She asks you and you walk closer to her. Her hair is a mess, her makeup is smudged and if she walks out right now you have no doubt that anyone who sees her will know what she was just doing. 

“Anything.” You shrug and you see tears gathering in her eyes. “But you can’t just walk away after I told you I love you for the very first time.”

“I really don’t want to ruin this.” She tells you, and her words confuse you.

“How would you ruin this?”

“I always ruin what I love.” She says and you take her hands, letting her heels fall on the ground. 

There it is. 

“That won’t happen with us.” You assure her gently. “You’re my favorite person, and I love you.”

She chuckles when you say that and you go back to feel light, in a way. 

“And I want to be with you. For real this time. Don’t get me wrong, I love the sex. We’re very good at having it, but I want more and something tells me that you do too.”

She doesn’t say anything for a beat, and that’s how you know you’ve hit a point. 

“We will fight.” She argues weakly, and you peck her lips. “We will yell.”

“And then we’ll have make up sex. That’s like, the best sex out there.” You counter, and she laughs. “You love me?” 

“I do.” She nods, her voice soft and honest. She kisses you this time and even presses herself closer to you, so much so that you can feel her heart beating against your own chest. 

“Then no more excuses. We can do this.” You smile and kiss her again. She smiles, her hands on your face as she nods. 

“I’ll have to talk to Vision.” She realizes and you kiss her again. 

“So that’s that?” You ask with a smile. “We’re together now?”

“We are.” She nods and you pick her up and twirl her twice. You’re both laughing when her feet touch the ground again, and things seem to fall back into place. You’re you again.  

“Let him down gently.” You suggest and she takes a deep breath before taking off her dress one more time, and heading straight to your closet and then your bed. 

She’s familiar with your room, she knows where everything is, and she’s stopped asking to borrow your clothes a while ago. You watch her put on some shorts before she looks at you again. 

“I will. He’s such a nice guy.” She says as she throws your comforter to the ground, and you take a clean one from the closet. 

“He really is.” You agree, as you both get under the new comforter. 

“Are we bad people?” 

“Maybe.”

You’ll think about that in the morning, right now you want nothing more than to cuddle your new girlfriend and have a good night’s sleep. 

… 

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff

[miinatozakiii]

but i’ll love you better, if you let me

son chaeyoung x fem!reader ; angst, smut

synopsis: “you told me your new man don’t make you nut, that’s a damn shame.”

wc: 7.4k

warnings: smut; thigh riding; jealousy ; cheating!! ; readers a meanie lowk; men mentioned ; smoking; cursing; alcohol; lalala whatever else i missed ; not proofread

a/n: happy late chae day!!! ALSO i don't condone cheating… HOWEVER.

chaeyoung watches you closely, a cigarette perched between your lips as a subtle smirk dances across your features in response to the news.

“boyfriend?” you scoff, almost as if it’s a joke to you. “right.”

furrowing her brows, she looks at you, almost offended.

“what’s with the tone?”

"nothing, nothing...," you mumble, your eyes drilling into hers with intensity. she shrinks under your gaze, just as she always does when you give her that look. you light the end of your cigarette, inhaling shallowly before exhaling a small cloud of smoke.

chaeyoung crosses her arms. “i’m serious.”

“yeah?” you say teasingly, smiling like she’s an idiot. “does this boyfriend have a name?”

“haesol.”

“right.”

she’s a little frustrated at the tone of your voice, plus the little look you give her. the way you pay no mind to this new information – your eyes squinting and the look of incredulity you give her – brushing it off as some stupid, laughable lie ticks a nerve in her.

you inhale deeper, then sigh out the smoke slowly.

“alright, new topic,” you suggest, handing her the cigarette, which she rejects by pushing your wrist away, to your surprise.

“why are you acting like this is some stupid joke? don’t you care?”

yes, you did care. the notion of chaeyoung being involved with a man earned a visceral reaction from you, a combination of disbelief, frustration, and disappointment. the idea honestly seemed preposterous, even laughable, but your reaction had no sign of amusement. if anything, it left a bitter taste in your mouth, worse than any cheap hangover remedy. 

“i do care.”

offering the cigarette to her again, you raise both brows expectantly as you urge her to take it. she reluctantly accepts it from in between your fingers, then holds it to her lips.

you continue, looking away from her now and towards the street, “i just don’t want some guy taking so much of your time, time we could be using to hang out. besides, i don’t know him, you never even mentioned the guy.”

as the anger subsides, chaeyoung's features soften, her expression shifting to one of understanding. in the gentle glow of the setting sun, she’s a little cuter when she looks at you like that, her usual appeal heightened by the softening light.

you glance at her and smirk before looking back at the ground, leaning against the wall of the building behind you. 

the two of you have developed a reputation for being nearly inseparable. whether it's in class or during free time, the two of you are almost always together. chaeyoung was in two of your classes, and not the tedious prerequisite classes offered, the ones that people willingly chose based on their interests: music theory and art history.

you noticed her from first glance, taking note of the pretty girl in your two classes. she was striking; tattoos littered her skin, her unconventional style, and sick piercings. yeah, definitely your type of person, she was bound to lure you. however, you didn’t chase, so instead of actively pursuing her, you opted for more subtle approaches. you'd steal glances in her direction, flash a smile whenever your eyes met, or create chance encounters like accidental bumps or brushed hands, all of which served as silent invitations for her to make the first move.

from the moment you shared your first cigarette in the streets at night – outside your now favorite bar as a way to escape the rest of your classmates – a strong connection formed. 

chaeyoung hands you the cigarette back; you inhale deeply again, letting the smoke fill your lungs.

“if he’s uglier than you i won’t accept it.” you mutter, knowing you won’t because there’s no one more striking than her. 

“people are more than just looks you know.”

“that only applies to women.”  you grin. “now, let’s go get dinner. i’m hungry.”

she rolls her eyes at you and playfully pushes your shoulder before swiping the cigarette from your fingers. you chuckle at her reaction, then tilt your head, silently urging her to walk with you to a nearby restaurant down the street.

-

you shouldn’t have gone out with san and wooyoung, especially not on a thursday night because now it’s friday morning and you can still feel the hangover.

you wait on a bench at the little park on campus, the ache in your head still present even after your first class, despite gulping down a bottle of water and two advil tablets prior to it. 

chaeyoung asked to meet there, talking about some “surprise” she had. 

after waiting five minutes you finally feel your phone buzz in your hand, seeing the notification pop up on the top of the screen.

[11:28pm]

chaeyoung: i’m here

chaeyoung: to your left

you turn your head, noticing your best friend walking alongside a taller man, their hands interlocked. your stomach churns at the sight – you almost throw up in your mouth. taking a deep breath, you rise from your seat and make your way over to them, meeting them in the middle of the sidewalk.

chaeyoung had told you about him two weeks ago, even mentioning him here and there but you didn’t think you’d actually meet him, not now.

he wears a small – clearly forced – half-smile, one that you have the urge to wipe off his face. his hair is a messy, platinum blonde, with roots starting to show. a loose-fitting black tee drapes over his frame, paired with dark, baggy jeans. he’s also taller than you, maybe two or three inches taller, but not crazy tall. he's not the worst-looking guy, but you can't help but feel a twinge of disappointment.

“people are than just looks you know,” her words repeat in your head – you try to consider them.

“haesol, this is y/n. she’s my closest friend.” she says, then looks at you with sparkles in her eyes. “y/n, this is haesol, my boyfriend.”

“boyfriend, right.” you respond, tone acidic.

“you’re the best friend?”

the best friend? yeah, you’re not really fond of the way he said that. but to be fair, your tone wasn’t as nice either.

“yeah.” you force a friendlier expression after glancing over at chaeyoung, smiling at haesol now. “it’s nice to meet you.”

“same here.” 

it’s undeniably awkward, with chaeyoung by his side and your unpreparedness to face – well, him. you can’t help but glance at their locked hands, immediately looking away after it had disgusted you enough.

chaeyoung clears her throat before saying, “um, y/n, i was just wondering if you would like to get lunch with us? the two of you can get to know each other.”

a little sigh leaves your lips because really, you don’t want to know him any more than you do. but lunch with chaeyoung is something you can never pass up, especially when she’s looking at you all hopeful and shooting a little pout.

“i’m down, yeah.”

“great.” she says, “perfect.”

you and haesol make eye contact again before chaeyoung pulls him away, expecting you to follow.

-

to keep it brief, lunch was alright. it was rather quiet, unlike your usual conversations with chaeyoung, which are filled with laughter and tend to be more lively. with him there, you felt somewhat out of place, finding his stupid looks at chaeyoung irritating and the constant touchiness made you lose most your appetite.

when haesol was distracted by his phone or momentarily left the conversation, you found it easier to simply talk to chaeyoung. however, as soon as he looked back at her, you would fall silent again. 

you found his demeanor too blunt and his tendency to boast about himself irritating. his lack of attention to chaeyoung while she was speaking, instead focusing on his phone, only added to your irritation, making you scrunch your brows and send judgy looks.

“y/n, why don’t you tell him about yourself?” chaeyoung says to break the random moment of silence as you all eat. 

you blink, swallowing the rice you had been eating. “oh, like what?”

haesol seemed more focused on the food in front of him, paying little attention to the conversation. chaeyoung, on the other hand, noticed the lack of information being shared about you, which confused her. to her, you were the most interesting person in the room.

“haesol, you know y/n is in a band?”

you ‘re quick to cut her off, “it’s just a gig, not that serious. just… extra money.” you widen your eyes at her, tightening your jaw to send a little message. 

“oh, that’s cool i guess.” he says, shrugging at you. 

“she plays guitar and sings–”

“it’s just a side thing.” you say sternly. 

haesol doesn’t notice the look you give chaeyoung, too unbothered by your presence as a whole. you give him a little look before crossing your arms.

“haesol,” you begin.

he finishes chewing and swallows before humming a “ hm?”

“what do you like about my best friend?”

he pauses, thinking to himself (you would’ve answered without hesitation).

“she’s cute and every time i talk to her she listens and laughs you know. she’s hot.”

“right.” you mumble, then look over to chaeyoung, who’s smiling like an idiot. “okay.”

his phone – which had been set on the table for once – started to ring. you eye him as he picks it up, answering with a snarky tone that you hate; the urge to punch him in the face eats you up, but you manage to hold back.

you can’t do this, he’s not any of the few men you tolerate, everything about him pisses you off. you’re going to burst any moment and it’s better to let the fire die down.

“i should get going.” you suddenly speak, not caring that he’s listening to someone through the phone. “i have things to do. sorry chaeng.”

“you haven’t finished your food.” she says, furrowing her brows.

you shrug. “not hungry anymore. you two have fun.”

chaeyoung doesn’t get another word in, you’re already up and ready to go by the time she opens her mouth. haesol doesn’t bat an eye, letting you leave without questioning it.

-

from then on, whenever you and chaeyoung meet alone or with friends, the mere mention of haesol makes you feel a sense of discomfort bordering on nausea. you find yourself growing slightly distant, just enough to create a subtle but noticeable shift in your interactions, especially when haesol is brought up and acknowledged. 

so chaeyoung stops mentioning him, completely disregarding him whenever you’re near because at the end of day she just wants what you two have to be normal. at the end of the day she craves any attention you give her rather than haesol.

and things get more normal from there on out, as long as he’s not involved.

but it still lingers in her mind, you and haesol, you. 

(that’s really complicated to think about, so chaeyoung doesn’t really think on it that much.

but she really should consider why you plague her mind a little more than haesol.

a lot more.)

–

you look down at your notes, spinning the pencil in between your fingers. “the free response ones, they’re worth more points than the multiple choices, sixty percent. i think we have to apply abstract expressionism to pieces and the text, and then there’s some romanticism that we have to use. it should be relatively simple if you just bullshit it with the examples given but–”

you look up again, chaeyoungs eyes drill into your whole being. 

“what?’

she frowns. “you don’t like haesol, do you?”

“we need to study for the exam chaeng.” you grumble, followed by a sigh.

“you’re avoiding my question.”

sitting back in your seat, you look at her, frustrated. then you drop your pencil down on your notes, cursing under your breath.

“i don’t like your boyfriend, there, happy?”

“why?”

“he pisses me off.”

“did he do something to you?”

“did he need to? do i need a reason? i don’t want to waste my time talking about a man or thinking of one. can we just study?” your voice raises a bit, you’re clearly annoyed; chaeyoung decides to let it go, letting you continue on with what you were saying. “anyways, i think chapter 16 and 17 are what we need to focus on.”

chaeyoung stiffens in her seat. “yeah, okay. i have notes for that.”

“great.”

the atmosphere in the study room becomes heavy, almost suffocating for both of you. even worse is when you both sit in silence, poring over notes, the only audible sounds being the scratch of your pencil against paper as you jot down key terms, and the rhythmic tapping of chaeyoung's foot against the ground. the tension hangs thick in the air, palpable yet unspoken.

you look up again, sighing.

honestly, you feel bad (not really, it’s haesol you’re talking about. but chaeyoung? yeah, you can’t bear to see a frown on that pretty face of hers), but you can’t control how you feel about her boyfriend. about her. 

chaeyoung’s been a little crush, well, maybe little isn’t the right word. you’ve never done anything about it because there wasn’t a need to, it wasn’t clawing at you. not until now at least. 

she’s been available, single, yet you never even thought of asking her out or anything, just small advances and subtle hints to something. 

cigarettes shared in more places than you can count on one hand, letting her hold onto your waist as you drove her home on that motorcycle of yours, carrying her over to someplace safe while she’s batshit drunk, and even lending yourself to her when she needed someone to literally lean on. you let her sprawl all over you, despite hating physical touches from anyone else. 

wasn’t that enough? how dense did she have to be? or really, the question was: were your advances really enough?

and now? god, she has a whole boyfriend, it fucking kills you. the mere thought of him being in her life makes it all miserable, you can’t look at that beautiful face of hers or interact with her normally without that weird feeling in your heart, the feeling hurts you, eats you up inside. it’s all because of her boyfriend, the fact that you can’t have her, even though she deserves you instead of him.

the last thing you want is the feeling of your chest being split into two, so you avoid the thought of haesol as a whole.

(it seems to be failing, considering how often you think of chaeyoung, then of him, and now your whole heart feels like it’s being pounded by a hammer 24/7.)

you break the silence, looking up from the notes chaeyoung had passed to you. parting your lips, you don’t speak, instead, pondering, thinking of what to say. 

as you look at chaeyoung, you can't help but notice the subtle changes in her appearance. her hair is a little shorter than before, framing her face in a new way. but it's the nervous way she rubs at the tattoos on her hands that catches your attention. those tattoos, the ones that litter her hand, are familiar to you, more familiar than you'd care to admit. you’ve thought about them in too many ways, some ways you’re a little too embarrassed to admit.

“did you get a haircut?” you ask, raising a brow.

chaeyoung looks at you in surprise, the tension already sizzling down as the conversation starts. “yeah, just a little off the ends, some touch up’s on the layers.

you pause, then reach to run your hands through her hair.

“it’s cute, i like it.”

chaeyoung smiles, finding herself blushing at the sudden compliment. “thank you.”

“hey, after this, let’s grab something to eat?” she laughs, smiling at how anticipated you are. “of course.”

“let’s head over to shin’s–her bibimbap is good, cheap, and the best i’ve had.”

“okay, okay.” she snickers, grinning. “you pay.”

“yeah yeah, whatever.”

it’s these little moments that saw at the growing tension between you two, surely but slowly. 

and then the two of you laugh in between note taking again, it’s easy to ignore the elephant in the room considering how you two are; oblivious, pining a little more than both of you would like to admit, and too conflicted to even consider confrontation or communication.

as the two of you laugh in between note-taking, it's easy to fall back into the comfortable rhythm of your friendship. you both choose to ignore the elephant in the room considering how you two are—oblivious to the deeper undercurrents, secretly pining for each other more than either of you would care to admit, and too conflicted to even breach the topic of confrontation or communication. so you laugh, you joke, and you carry on, pretending that everything is just as it should be, even when it's far from it.

-

haesol turns his head. “something on your mind baby?”

gross, chaeyoung furrows her brows at the petname, weirdly enough. 

his arm is around her, hand resting on her shoulder and her head rested on his bicep. they’re watching a movie, chaeyoung blinks, responding lowly, “oh, no.”

“seems like it.” haesol says, but doesn’t pry.

you’d pry, you’d do something to make her confess her worries. haesol simply pushes her closer into him, eyes on the screen of the tv.

chaeyoung wants to push aside the strange pounding of her heart whenever she's around you. she wishes she could stop catching herself checking you out, feeling every unfamiliar flutter and pang in her heart. it's all so foreign to her, and it makes her uneasy. she doesn't like the uncertainty, the conflicted feelings swirling inside her chest, the questions without answers, everything that has to do with you. 

sometimes she even wonders what it would be like if you were in haesol’s place, like right now, watching this movie with her, with your arm under her head instead of his. maybe if she was next to you, then maybe her evening wouldn’t feel like such a waste right now.

“i think,” chaeyoung starts, “i think im going to go to sleep. i don’t feel well.”

“what? seriously?” haesol asks, there’s a hint of annoyance in his tone. “um, feel better, drink water or something. i’ll be in bed later.”

chaeyoung forces a smile, pursing her lips a little tighter than she’d like, then walks over to his room, flopping on his bed.

she checks her phone, a text from you pops up.

10:53pm

you: wyd

a small smile forms on chaeyoung’s lips.

chaeng: about to sleep

you: at ten–almost eleven, on a saturday?

you: something up?

chaeng: just not feeling it

you: are you sick? haesol is with you right? is he taking care of you?

her brows furrow; this is the first time you’ve mentioned his name. sure, it was through text, but you acknowledged him. she tucks herself into the blanket and stares at the text before responding.

chaeyoung: we were watching a movie and i felt a little tired, just went back to the room to lay down

you: right

you: you better pick up, im calling

she reads your text, and not even five seconds later feels her phone ring, looking at the contact photo of you in some stupid hat in one of those photobooth pictures, as well as your name pop up in bold on her screen. she presses the green icon, bringing the phone to her ear lazily.

“what’s up?” you ask. she hears a bit of noise in the back, it sounds like you’re at some bar, maybe outside of it, probably with some of your other friends who have a higher tolerance than her. 

“y/n, i’m just tired.”

“right.” you say calmly, she hears the faint sound of you inhaling, then a small exhale. “and that boyfriend of yours isn't taking care of you?”

“we were just watching a movie and i don’t know, i just felt… uneasy.”

“he’s giving you migraines.”

“it doesn’t work like that.”

“thinking of how easy it is to dismiss how you are, the thought of him gives me one.” you admit, “if he weren’t so dense then he’d be with you right now–who finishes a movie by themself? who lets their girlfriend feel sick–alone?”

chaeyoung groans. “why do you care so much about him now? you’re always acting like he doesn’t exist and god– are you, are you drunk?”

“no.” voice firm and stern. 

you lean against the balcony in the outside area of the bar, sighing; you’re a liar, and most definitely drunk. how could you not be after soyeon had coaxed you into those shots? on her tab too.

“why are you sulking.” you question, your voice not so far from a mumble.

"i'm not," chaeyoung is also a liar, she is sulking, her body limp against the mattress as she lays on the bed. she's still processing the events leading up to the movie: her and haesol had made out, one thing leading to another which led to them fucking–and not for the first time, maybe the fifth or sixth time, she can’t remember any of it since it was all so… anticlimactic. she's left feeling a pit in her stomach, even worse than the one after their first night of intimacy.

you can hear the bullshit in her voice, the alcohol takes over your senses and you say, “i’ll be over at the park–you know which one. be there.”

“y/n, what? wait–”

“i‘m not letting you sulk alone, stupid.”

“haesol’s going to–”

“i don’t care.” you spit, “when did i ever?”

–

–

you sit at one of the benches, a water bottle in your hand while you try to sober up. to be fair, you’re not off the walls drunk – you can still walk fine, function really well, and honestly, you’re basically fine – but drunk enough to say something a little too bold for your liking. 

the moon is up, pretty full considering it’s the end of the month. it shines down on you, down on your tired features and bothered self because of this whole new problem chaeyoung brought as soon as haesol appeared: an unsure heart.

never were you the type of person to go crazy over some crush, you never let it ruin you, but now, it’s doing just that. 

chaeyoung approaches you, catching the way your hair flows down behind you, a glimpse of your crewneck, and then you turn to the side little as if youve sensed her from behind; chaeyoung looks at you, mesmerized. 

there’s something to be said about your appearance, it’s no wonder you’ve caught many eyes, and especially now, under this glow– and maybe it’s the feeling of seeing someone, you, who doesn’t make chaeyoung uneasy – you look effortlessly wonderful, even if it’s just your side profile facing her.

you turn, smiling like you’ve just seen the rarest star after you catch chaeyoung in your line of vision.

(she’s brighter than a star, much brighter.)

turning back to stare at the lamppost in front of you, chaeyoung sits down, you feel her presence and sense her in your peripheral. then you feel yourself blush, taking in everything in front of you; you smile like an idiot, and idiot head over heels. 

“you are drunk.” chaeyoung says, “liar.”

“you lied first. it’s 1-1.” she crosses her arms, leaning away from you–she’s mad, or at least annoyed–you frown. “hey, what’s up?”

“y/n, you piss me off sometimes you know?”

“what? did i do something?”

she scoffs, looking at you in disbelief. 

“i thought we were best friends, you know? and i could tell you anything, i can tell you anything, i have told you anything. but lately? it’s like, i have to continuously avoid potholes just to keep you from being all pissy.”

you sit up, furrowing your brows in offense. “excuse me?”

“y/n don’t fucking give me that.” she says, tears welling up in her eyes. you stay put, backing down a bit and start to listen. “all i’ve wanted to do is talk about haesol, and you aren’t even willing to do that; you’re the only person i feel like i can talk to about him. and these things? they all bother me, but as soon as i open my mouth and you guess that it’s haesol? you fucking back down.”

“chaeyoung i–”

“do you know how hard it is? the one person i want to talk to and won’t even listen.” she turns away from you, letting her eyes fall to the concrete. “you’re the one person i can turn to, and honestly–it’s embarrassing to admit–but i’ve grown so attached to you, i mean, even when i’m with him; all i think about is you.”

your brain is still foggy, maybe that’s why you’re getting so emotional. the thought of you pushing her away, all because of a man–it’s selfish, so incredibly selfish the more you look on it. 

“i’m sorry.” is all you can utter, looking at her with sympathy and guilt etched on your features. “i’m sorry.”

“you should be.” she’s silent after that, still looking down at the ground while you study her every move and emotion.

she feels a shoulder graze her, then an arm extended behind her back. you push her a little close into you, just enough to make her feel better.

“i’m sorry for dragging you out here and… ignoring everything. i’ve just been really conflicted and i’d really love to tell you why, but i just… can’t.” you confess, looking down at your shoes. “you can tell me anything, always. i never want you to feel like you can’t.”

she turns her head, looking at your face illuminated by the glow of the night and the streetlamp. 

“i hate that you make it so hard to be mad at you.”

“be mad at me, it’s what i deserve.”

“i’ve tried.”

you smile, it’s a little uncertain, but it’s something to clear the air momentarily.

“what’s been going on with haesol?” you pry, it hurts to ask, but for the sake of chaeyoung; you pry.

“god y/n, there’s so much.”

“like?”

she looks at you, then around the park. it hits her that her surroundings are… not her most ideal environment to tell you about haesol, her sex life, and everything that’s been upside down; she doesn’t know where to start.

you read her mind – you always do, somehow – and pause her right where she is.

“maybe we should go to my place, i should be sobered up by then. i hope.

-

the two of you make it to your place, chaeyoung had called a cab because who knows how bad you could get. still, you’re pretty manageable, especially only a few shots. you’ve sobered up completely by the time you reached your place, finding your keys and letting both of you in.

chaeyoung catches a whiff of bourbon, cashmere, vanilla, and amber, with hints of the signature cigarette smell laced within. she makes her way to the little sliding door leading to the small balcony—the same one the two of you always go to when it's late, when you're both tired, and when there's a lot to say. it's a space filled with unspoken words and shared moments, where only each phase of the moon has heard everything you two have to say.

chaeyoung watches you trudge along and lean against the balcony next to her when you arrive. you shuffle through the pocket of your jeans for a box of cigarettes, and she notices that it's half empty. you take one out, then fish for your lighter with a floral design on it. bringing the flame up to the end of the cigarette trapped between your lips, you light it—a routine that chaeyoung could never quite get used to. and honestly, the way you handle the cigarette is hotter than it should be.

smoke leaves your mouth in small increments as you ask, “so, you and haesol?”

“oh, yeah.” chaeyoung says, almost distracted by the way you stare out into space. “we’ve, well…”

“what’s the biggest problem on your mind right now, we can start with that.”

“we– well–” and chaeyoung thinks to herself, thinking of the moments prior to being near haesol and watching that movie, ane even their first night of intimacy. she thinks of how he touched her and how it wasn’t as striking as it should’ve been, how long he lasted – which, wow, was not long – and honestly just how he pleased himself more than her. “we fucked.”

the cigarette almost slips from in between your fingers. “wait, what?”

“we’ve fucked a couple of times, i just, it wasn’t all that.”

“jesus, you’ve been through hell.” you joke lightheartedly, which earns a giggle from chaeyoung.

she takes the cigarette from you, then draws deeply from the cigarette. “it wasn’t too bad, like, i didn’t mind but, it was really–”

“disappointing? men are like that.”

“you and men.” chaeyoung scoffs, inhaling again.

“i’m serious, and being sexually frustrated is serious too.” and then you eye her–dangerously. chaeyoung tries to ignore the way you looked at her, it lasted a second but there was definitely something on your mind. she holds the cigarette to your lips, you move your head forward to catch it in between your lips, inhaling as you fix your crewneck. “you deserve better.”

“he’ll get better.” she says it almost like a manifestation, something she’ll write down on paper and put under her pillow so she’ll finally cum without instructing too much.

“you shouldn’t have to wait for someone to fuck you right.” you begin, and maybe you haven’t sobered up, because then, she widens her eyes after you say, “bet i could make you feel good.”

the world seems to come to a standstill, you lean against the balcony, your tricep resting on the metal railing, fingers holding the half-smoked cigarette as you cradle your face in the same hand. your gaze meets hers with an intensity that suggests you've just posed a question— and honestly, chaeyoung might have sulked to such a point that she's seriously considering it. that small, mischievous smile playing on your lips might just be enough to sway her decision.

“that’s cheating, i–”

“you don’t have to.” turning your head to teh side and puffing. “it was a suggestion.”

maybe chaeyoung is desperate (she most definitely is), because wow, that smirk is growing into a cocky ass grin that shows your teeth and the prominent canines and–

“are you drunk or are you serious?” chaeyoung asks you, looking you dead in the eye. 

eyeing her from the side, you respond, “you want it to be serious?”

she gulps. “no strings attached?”

“none have to be, friends with benefits is a thing, chaeyoung.”

she gulps again. “okay, yeah, sure.”

you smile, then smush the cigarette into the ashtray down on the small stool you have out, then tilt your head to urge her inside.

she follows you to the couch, sliding the door behind her before you sit down on the couch, watching her hesitantly follow. she stands in front of you and you eye her like she’s your prey.

she doesn’t question how your moral compass is fucked, especially after you’ve suggested this, knowing she’s with haesol. but she doesn’t think of whatever your morals and rights or wrongs are after she catches you unzipping your fly, sliding the little metal button out from the slit and–

you’re sliding down your jeans – baggy and a dark navy – they land at your ankle before you retreat back into a lounged position on the cushions. her eyes follow the jeans as they scrunch up at your ankles, then trail up your surprisingly toned legs, and then stop at the calvin klein underwear you have on.

you rub your hand on your thigh, sliding it down to your knee and making eye contact with her.

“c’mere.” you pat down on your skin. “you've been complaining about him and i just... wanna make you feel good for once. that alright? i kind of owe it to you for being so shitty.”

chaeyoungs breath hitches involuntarily as she looks down at you, her morals trying to win her over but god is that difficult to do when you’re so–

you’re sliding off your crewneck, it reveals a tanktop under, and of course, the various tattoos littered on your upper arms and shoulders. she bites her lip subtly.

yeah, there’s no going back on this one.

chaeyoung gives in because c’mon, this is a fantasy that’s been in the back of her mind, and her cunt is screaming louder than ever than when she’s been with haesol. honestly, her pussy whispers when she’s with him, and now it’s yelling–more than ever just seeing you sitting there on your couch, legs slightly parted as you eye her.

there’s a pretentious smirk trying to tug at your lips, but you fight against it and clench your jaw. 

she lets out a long breath before moving over to settle herself down on your thigh, the contact makes her shiver.

"there we go," you whisper softly, drinking in the sight before you. your fingertips dance along the curves of her ribs, hidden beneath the fabric of her cropped, white shirt. her breath stumbles as she tries to focus on you, or anything in the moment, really. "you’re so pretty, you know?”

instinctively, she ruts her hips against you, a soft breath escaping her lips. her skirt allows easy access, easily pushed aside to let her soaked panties glide against your skin. the fabric covering her folds adds to the tantalizing allure, fueling the urge to tease her further.

no foreplay has made chaeyoung feel this desperate for stimulus on her cunt, no one has made her feel this hot and heavy. you haven’t even undressed her yet and she’s already leaving a trail of arousal on your thigh like that. 

chaeyoung slides off the jacket she has on – haesol’s denim jacket that he gave her two days before – and throws it carelessly on the floor, not minding where it lands or what happens to it. the main event is you, all attention is on you. 

the guilt that should've been sitting in her stomach, stabbing her through the heart and holding her down went out the window as soon as your fingers landed on the edge of her skirt – but there was none of that, not when you started to tease your fingers along her skin. 

“how about this too?” you suggest, tugging at the fabric of her skirt, a sly smile gracing your lips. “tell me… you want it off?”

“yes,” she says immediately, almost like a breath. “please, fuck, yeah take it off.”

“how eager.” you snicker.

her skirt is off now, leaving her in soaked underwear and that t-shirt of hers. she’s slipping back onto your thigh, your special seat for her now. honestly, from the way she looks and feels–sounds… yeah, this spot might have to be reserved for her and only her.

the smirk on your face is smug as your eye her hips, placing both hands on them and slowly grinding her on your skin. chaeyoung, who’s not used to this extent of pleasure, moans immediately, biting her lip in embarrassment to suppress anything else that manages to slip out.

you can’t help but laugh under your breath, amused by how pleased she is. you kind of feel bad – if she feels this good from just grinding, how bad is that dick of her boyfriend’s? you pity the girl, so as her best friend, you have to give her what she’s missing.

she’s moving her hips on her own now, scooting up closer to you so she can plant her hands on your shoulders, making it easier to fuck herself on your skin. your groans are low, almost airy here and there while you watch, occasionally helping her out by pressing up against her. 

you can tell she’s doing everything she can to hide the sounds she’s making, desperately biting back moans that you want to hear. you’re not going to let her stay quiet, not when she sounds so pretty all because of you. all for you.

sliding your hand up, you press your thumb on her bottom lip, allowing her plea’s to be heard as you forcefully part her lips, your grip on her jaw almost deathly.

“f-fuck y/n, w-wait.”

the grip on your shoulder tightens, making you groan yourself. she looks down at where her clad cunt meets your skin again, scrunching her brows hard as she desperately ruts against you. 

her voice swells the more she rubs against you, the sounds coming out her mouth reverberating like a symphony building to its crescendo. aggressively, you grab her hips again, shifting her down roughly against your thigh. she throws her head back, mouth widening as a loud, shaky moan escapes. then, like a symphony's final movement, everything harmonizes. 

the sound of your name being cried out when she cums resonates, lingering in our ears, a perfect harmony that captivates you, making you smile. she throws her head down on your shoulder, muttering your name over and over while her hands desperately claw against your shoulder, tricep, skin – against anything.

she’s still moving against you, but slower now, trying to ease herself back down from cumming for the first time in a while. even when she did cum that one time from haesol, it has never left her as shaken up or satiated as this.

your hands stabilize her by the hips as she pulls away, her face inches away from yours. you manage to get a glimpse of her underwear – completely wet, like a tidal wave had crashed against it – smile to yourself, pleased.

“how was that?” you ask, “seemed good.” your voice is low, speaking from the throat as you soften your tone.

“s-shut, “ she starts, then presses her lips against yours, making you hum surprisingly. “up.”

it feels right, so fucking right despite how morally wrong it is. 

she’s basically on your hip now, mindlessly grinding in your lap as she kisses you. it’s slow, sensual, and so goddamn intimate considering this is the first time you’ve done anything remotely… romantic? anything that really crossed the line of “friendship.”

then you’re sliding your tongue against the space in between her lips, earning access to her mouth as you slide your tongue in, exploring her like she’s some eighth wonder of the world. she moans into the kiss, it’s muffled, but it’s great. more than great–amazing.. you kiss and kiss like there’s no tomorrow, fighting for air by the time your lips’ part. and now it’s your time to admire your mess: tangled dark hair framing chaeyoung’s face, her puffy lips and flushed cheeks, and those lidded eyes. 

your lips move to her neck, making her grip at you as soon as you make contact with her skin again. you’re like a fucking drug to her, she’s getting high just from this small dose of you and she might just get addicted after knowing how the high is. this might just be worse than her smoking habits, but if it’s you? she doesn’t give a fuck.

“y/n, fuck wait,” chaeyoung sighs, getting up to slider her underwear off and throwing it to the side. “again, please.”  

you laugh, more than happy to comply. “of course, as much as you want.”

the rest of the night is filled with chaeyoung’s moans, your soft voice coaxing her as she stimulates herself, and the last thing on either of your minds is haesol, because that’s a worry for later.

she cums again a few minutes later – surprisingly fast, but just as good, and you’re not judging her either way. poor girl. she goes a little limp after that, resting against you, still in your lap, and letting her head settle on your shoulder while you rub her back.

“you gonna stay the night?” you ask her, feeling her breath against your neck. “because you can.”

chaeyoung pauses, she doesn’t answer. 

she pulls away from you, then gazes at your face. you look back at her, not really expecting anything, just looking at her. chaeyoung breathes out, then places a hand on your neck before she kisses you.

she whispers against your lips, “i’ll think about it.” 

–

the next morning chaeyoung is still on your couch, a blanket trapped between her legs while most of it is on the floor. the scent of coffee being brewed fills the air. 

she rises from the couch, running her hands over her face with a sigh before tending to her tousled hair. she’s not wearing anything, she’s completely bare. as she turns, she notices your back turned to her, engrossed in pouring a cup of coffee. you’re only wearing a sports bra on top and low-rise jeans lazily wrap around your waist, revealing your underwear.

 the sound of your yawn reaches her ears, and then you turn around with a cup in your hands, holding it to your lips. you both make eye contact.

the silencing squeezes you two, squishing your skin and almost breaking your bones. chaeyoung looks away first.

“you’re awake.” 

she’s not looking at you, instead looking around for the shirt you’d taken off before making her cum the second time around, finding it on the edge of the couch.

“yeah.” chaeyoung responds quietly, “i have to go.”

there it is, you expected this, but it still disappoints you a little, even if you assured that it was “no strings attached.”

“do you need a ride?”

“i can text haesol.”

your jaw tenses. 

she has a boyfriend, right, haesol. chaeyoung has a boyfriend who seems more attached to his phone than to her, failing to truly listen to her. he overlooks the qualities that you find captivating, a boyfriend who... well, is just a man. you try to convince yourself that you've forgotten, but deep down, you know you never really did. if anything, knowing that you can, scratch that, you did make her feel better than her boyfriend boosts your ego, even if just a little. 

you should feel guilty, like you’ve just committed a terrible crime and someone is waiting outside with handcuffs ready to put you behind bars but– you don’t feel any of that, honest to god you dont give a fuck about that. you made chaeyoung feel good, great, fucked her with your thigh, and honestly that’s enough to completely push guilt out your body.

she’s fully dressed again after putting on the jacket that was across the living room on the floor. she looks walks over to you, stealing a quick glance to the tattoo on your ribs and the little one above your waist.

"i can’t believe i did this," she mumbles quietly to herself. then, she looks up at you, gulping. “we need to keep this a secret, okay?”

“i know, i figured.” you respond bitterly, even though it was you who started it in the first place. “so what's next? you're still going to go back to him? are we just going to fuck and forget?"

chaeyoung winces, feeling the pang of regret and uncertainty. 

she’s undoubtedly whipped, she can’t go back to haesol like everything’s fine. she didn’t answer his texts, his calls–anything. and despite how negligent he is–and also the fact that he’ll never make her feel the same way as you did – chaeyoung wants to go back to him, he’s her boyfriend after all. she already left him last night with no explanation, the least she can do is go back. but everything in her heart and head is telling her to stay here with you.

“i just… need time to think about it, y/n.”

you narrow your eyes at her as you sip on your coffee. “right.”

chaeyoung approaches you, frustration etched on her face. your demeanor is elusive, she hates how difficult you are to read. it’s hard to decipher whether you're angry, disappointed, or both. as you search for your phone, turning back around, she feels her shoulders sag with disappointment, her steps heavy as she reluctantly heads towards the door.

“i really thought you’d finally open your eyes, but i guess i was wrong.” you finally say, hearing a pause of silence before you hear the door open. 

a few seconds pass before you hear it close. chaeyoung’s gone.

#twice x reader #kpop x reader #twice imagines #twice chaeyoung #chaeyoung smut #son chaeyoung #chaeyoung x reader #son chaeyoung x reader

[spooky-pop]

Hello, I really love your broppy kid Ivy. Could you tell us more about her?

Yeah! Any specific questions I can answer? I can share just my current thoughts and ideas about her and what I'm working on.

Ivy was an "oops" baby, lol! What started as Branch having an off day turned into chaos when he noticed an egg in the middle of the night after he was unable to sleep. Poppy was the calm one but Branch was completely terrified at first, and Ivy ended up becoming his whole world. Ivy shows strong resemblance to Grandma Rosiepuff, which melts Branch and softens his heart. She starts as an only child but eventually gets a sibling.

(old old old quick sketch of his initial shock lol)

(Fun fact, I pulled a bunch of inspiration and influence for her design from Viva's concept art! Her hair and colors, I always love sharing this little fact tbh)

She definitely has Poppy's personality but amplified as a child, her energy is off the walls and she keeps her parents' hands full, at least until she hits her teens. She was a wild child, constantly getting into trouble but she was just being a kid. As a young adult her personality shifts, and she becomes calmer yet more sassy, haha. She is very family oriented, and loves to bond with her aunts and uncles.

(Example of Ivy shenanigans...Branch is not happy with her because she went and got herself all dirty before they had a royal family appearance to attend)

Most Trollings can start singing from a very little age, but Ivy did not sing for the first time until she was probably 14. Branch and Poppy never rushed her, but it was odd that their daughter was the only one who was shy about anything musical considering it was in her blood. She did sing, just by herself. She has a confident exterior but deep down she cares a lot about how she's perceived, since she is destined to become queen one day. She does overcome her shyness and becomes a great performer.

A lot of the story I have figured out focuses on her as a teen and young adult, and how she navigates life as princess. In her original ref I made, it has more info on her personality. And I hope to post another part to it soon!

Bonus: Sleepy parents with their new baby

Hope you like!

#my art #ask #trolls au #broppy parent au

[gxtfictx]

Dating Emily Prentiss - Headcanons

some of these are nsfw

-She is the softest girlfriend ever

-always seems so strong, so badass, but she has the softest spot for you, you make her heart melt, and she never fights it back

-suuuuuuper posessive, gets jealous easily

-one time during a case, one of the local cops started flirting with you. Emily was fuming, pulling you close to her, her hands on your waist, putting your hair behind your ear, she had done it all, but this guy was just not getting it. Once the case was closed, he was about to ask you out for a drink, when Emily heard it, she run to where you were (still speechless) and kissed your lips, it was a explicit kiss, her hands on your waist possessively, a deep, passionate and romantic kiss, taking you by surprise. The guy was flabbergasted to say the least. "hey baby, ready to go?" she asks when she pulls apart. She looks at you, still out of words, and then to the guy, his mouth still opened in awe. "oh, sorry, you were saying?" he doesn't bother you anymore

-she loves having you over at her place because it's like sharing her intimacy with you, and she is a SUCKER for any kind of intimacy

-seeing you sitting around her place, walking around her kitchen messing around, cooking, listening to music and dancing, you on her couch, hanging your bras on the bathroom, randomly finding a sock or a pair of lost underwear after a night together... she loves having you around so much that you have your own drawer at her place after only 3 months of dating.

-another form of intimacy that she loves is when you wear her clothes. Hell. She loves it. She's feral for it. She always insists you look better on them anyway. She will wear it after because it smells like you, the scent calms her down, so she buries her nose into it every once in a while.

-physical touch is her no1 love language, in the sense that she will take any chance she gets to touch you. Her hand on your thigh. Will hold yours under the table every time. She caresses your shoulder, your arm. Will hold your hand on the plane during landing. When you go back after a case on the jet she'll have you laying on her, full on hugging sometimes, your back laying on her chest, she will play with strands of your hair, tickle your forearm... anything she can, she will touch

-she loves showing you off, always refers to you as "my girlfriend". "i'm gonna call my girlfriend" "i need to ask my girlfriend first" "Sure! I'll call my girlfriend to ask her if she wants to come" ...

-WILL tease the team, specially Morgan as he instists on making comments about your relationship (he never means wrong, he's not fetizishing you, it's just what he knows) "Prentiss, you and pretty girl had a good night?" "damn well we did" / "hey Prentiss any reason why you're both wearing turtle necks today? (she uncovers her neck, showing off the purple marks you had left) don't worry, you should see how i left her"

-at the beginning it would embarrass you a lot, now you've learned to enjoy it, and you even join in sometimes "Hey Prentiss, got a whip? (he says holding the leather attire to her body) You bet she does" Em loves it when you tease too.

-she definitely praises you in different languages, specially Italian because you love it (yes i'm projecting, so what, Italian is sexier than French, i said what i said)

-she's a huuuge nerd, so you bet movie marathons are a thing. She'll also keep asking you to pay attention if she has already seen it "Baby look! Look, this is the best part!" "I'm looking Em, I promise I'm looking"

-Chocolate, red wine and cherries are her 3 faves. You once got a perfume that smelled like cherries and she loved it so much she spent hours with her nose buried in your neck

-After several months of dating, you suggested to go on a little weekend trip. She was reluctant at first, but you convinced her as soon as you showed her the big jacuzzi at the hotel. She loved it so much and you had such a great time, that you started going on them every time you had a free weekend

-She has a tattoo on her ribs, right next to her boob. It was a stupid decision she made when she was 16, she instantly regretted it, hated it, and had always thought about getting it removed, until you started dating. You loved it, constantly reminding her how sexy it looked, kissed all the way around it, it made her feel so confident about it that she even started liking it, although it kind of looked like shit.

-She's not controlling at all, but she is over protective. She will murder whoever dares to touch you. (You know that scene when Spencer bends a guy's arm when he touches Tara? something like that)

-She loooooves giving you hickeys, but obviously they can't be visible, so she marks you all around. Your boobs, your thighs, your waist...

-She's a top, but she likes experimenting and will let you (and enjoy it just as much) take the lead whenever you feel like it.

-Has a whole folder on her phone for pictures of you with Sergio, most of them candid that you don't even know about

-loves showers and baths together, any time you go for a shower you can be sure she's joining you inside. You always say how inconvenient it is, but she always goes "we need to save water, honey"

-into astrology but will never admit it (she literally recognises constellations HELLO?!)

-You love her nose so much. She's always been kind of self conscious about it, but you reassured her every time, kissing it, praising her, you always told her how perfect it was for eating pussy, and that convinced her. Or maybe it was your moans after the tip of her nose bruised against your clit when she ate you out. You're not sure.

-Before she met you, she hadn't come out to her mom, nether had taken any partner home, when you started dating she told you about it, you insisted that it didn't matter, she had to do it when she was ready, if she ever was. It only took her 6 months to tell her and introduce you both.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

A/N: might do a part two in some time because there are SO MANY omg she's the cutest (like and reblog <3 )

#criminal minds x reader #emily prentiss #emily prentiss imagine #emily prentiss lesbian #lesbian #lesbian pride #wlw #wlw fanfic #wlw smut #emily prentiss hcs #emily prentiss headcanons #headcanon #Emily Prentiss x reader

[helvegen-s]

Rage, rage | three

prologue | one | two | three |

Pairing: Azriel x Hybern!Princess!OC

Summary: Nimue was a gift for the King of Hybern. His shining jewel, the perfect heir. However, she is clear about who the villain of the story is. When she saves her father's enemies from a tragic end, she realizes that now it's the Cauldron who has a gift for her: a mate.

Warnings: heavy injures, description of injuries, blood, violence, weapons, bad language, english not being my first language

They look at each other, adrenaline boiling and screaming in everyone's veins. Nimue doesn't take her eyes off Rhysand, but she feels everyone looking at her.

She feels naked, unprotected.

She blinks to get used to all that light. She had never seen so much light and it's beautiful.

Her senses come to life as she lets go of Rhysand's hand, which she had unknowingly been clinging to. She breathes over and over, trying to calm herself, but involuntarily she begins to tremble.

What has she done, what has she done, what has she done.

Father is going to kill her.

Amidst her frenzy of thoughts, Rhysand starts barking orders. She doesn't hear them well, only scattered words: healer, help, house.

Nimue glimpses a huge house to her right, and realizes she has brought them all to the courtyard of a mansion. Around her, everyone seems to spring into action.

The blonde female runs into the house, and seconds later comes out accompanied by another woman, shorter and slighter. She can't tell if she's fae or a creature. When Nimue and her lock eyes, it's like they're looking in a mirror. Both frown but decide to ignore each other.

For Nimue, it's as if everything is happening in slow motion: when she wants to realize, there's another person there, attending to the two injured Ilyrian. A glow emanates from her hands, its warmth reaching the princess's face. A healer, she supposes. She had never seen one.

She fights against her own panic, trying to get used to all the hustle and bustle and all those sounds. The birds flying above her head, the sunlight, the smell of the sea, the smell of pine and cedar, the voices around her, the poor Ilyrian screaming in pain...

She lowers her gaze, and without thinking, she starts speaking: "I can help."

Everyone looks at her again, judging her. They scan her from head to toe.

The two females who were thrown into the Cauldron are to her left, crying and hugging the one who was with Rhysand. Are they sisters? They looked so much alike...

"I can help," she repeats, this time firmer. She starts walking and sees how Rhysand prepares to attack her, "I can heal both of them, if you let me."

She analyzes the High Lord's face, and sees how little by little he is giving in. No one articulates any words, with a simple nod of the male's head, he grants her permission. He has nothing more to lose.

She kneels beside the one with the shattered wings and begins to do what she does with herself and the wounds she has ever suffered: with her magic, she grasps every little nerve ending, every small piece of skin. She pulls them and threads them, weaves them, joins them and separates them as if making a tapestry. So little by little, she shapes the wings of that Ilyrian. It's all pure instinct, what her nature dictates to her.

Father always told her she was his Goddess of Destruction, but Nimue knew deep down that she was capable of fixing, of healing, of bringin good to the world.

Under everyone's watchful eyes, she was piece by piece, shred by shred, joining and repairing the broken wings of that male. When she reached the bones, she simply imagined how they should have originally been: she ordered them to return to their form, to be soldered, and they obediently complied.

With a final grunt from the male, Nimue finished her work. But before she could get up, he grabbed her arm:

"Thank you," he whispered. Nimue is stunned. Thank you?

Had anyone ever thanked her for anything? Had anyone shown her gratitude?

No, her real doubt wasn't that. Had she ever done anything worthy of others' gratitude?

She swallowed her fear and terror, kneeling on the ground. She watched as the male limped away from her and enveloped the blonde female in a hug, how he squeezed her tightly as they both cried on each other's shoulders.

She was so, so lost. Where was she? What was happening around her?

"What a miracle of a girl," the healer whispered. Standing between Rhysand and the slighter female, the more aged-looking woman never took her eyes off her, "You are a Cauldron's blessing. When you're done, I'll need you to teach me how you do that. You are a–"

"Silence, Madja," Rhysand's voice resonates under her feet and in the very mountain, as if he had spoken those words inside Nimue's skull. She shrinks, intimidated. That's the power of a High Lord, "Now him. Heal him.”

She looks away from Rhysand and sets her gaze on the last remaining male.

Kneeling on the ground beneath him is a pool of his own blood and something that seems to be shadows, moving frenetically back and forth. She had never seen anything like it, those... beings, moving around the man. Nimue hears faint noises that she can't quite understand.

Behind her, she feels a presence moving. Rhysand looks down at her, those violet eyes so deep that Nimue feels hypnotized, "Don't just stand there gaping and do what you did to Cassian. Now. Or I'll cut off your head, you filthy Hybern rat."

She nods, and when she turns back to the winged male, he looks back at her. His amber eyes follow every small movement she makes: from the slight tremble of her lower lip to the way she raises her hand.

When he tries to speak, a trickle of blood runs down his lip to his chin, "Touch me and I'll cut off your hands, traitor."

Nimue trembles.

What the hell is she doing? Where has she gotten herself into?

Before she knows it, two streaks of water run down her cheeks. Is she crying? She had never cried before, what a strange sensation.

Her gaze travels to the hands of the male in front of her. He grips a beautiful black dagger, its tip directly aimed at Nimue's chest.

She swallows hard and, in a quick motion, grabs the arrow he has lodged in his chest and pulls it out with all her strength. She has been so fast that the male collapses forward, falling on top of her.

Rhysand and the healer, Madja, take care of getting him off her, and when Nimue tries to touch him again, the High Lord growls at her, "I told you to heal him, not to open up the damn hole in his chest further."

By pure instinct, Nimue snarls back at him, "I am healing him, you idiot. Back off."

Where she found the courage, she doesn't know. But they obey her, and she gets back to work.

The male is lying on his back on the ground, and Nimue places her hand on his chest, where the arrow was previously lodged. She begins to weave again, slowly, thread by thread.

Her gaze rests on his face, which, with closed eyes, lets out the occasional groan between his teeth.

Azriel feels like his chest is on fire. He feels the edges of the wound burning, he feels combustion from within. He takes gulps of air as he struggles not to lose consciousness, and blinded by the pain, he reaches his hand into the air and grabs onto the first thing he finds.

Nimue startles when his hand grabs her elbow, but she lets it be, the touch of his glove is a new, pleasant, and different sensation. She looks back at his face, and in a low voice, she speaks to him, "I'm almost done. Just making sure there's no trace of the poison that the arrow was coated with."

Azriel lets out a growl. He couldn't care less about the explanations. He just wants it to be over already.

The pain reaches the core of his bones and he opens his eyes abruptly, looking at the girl in front of him.

What is that?

Around her, he sees a thread, a small golden rope encircling her: it descends down her shoulders and arms, caresses her wrists and fingers, and wherever her skin meets his, he sees how the thread enters his own body.

Is he hallucinating?

Hasn't he had enough with the arrow between his ribs, that now the poison is making him hallucinate?

Behind the girl, he sees Rhysand, Amren, Cassian, Mor, even damn Madja. He sees how in slow motion their brows furrow, he sees how they lean forward, looking puzzled at something that makes Azriel scared.

"What's going on?" he asks agitated. He tries to sit up on his elbows, but although the pain has already diminished, it still doesn't let him breathe properly, "What are you all looking at like that?"

Nimue furrows her brows as she pushes the man back to the ground so he stays still. She frowns, as she begins to feel something on her fingertips...

Something is not right.

The sensation travels up her forearm and shoulder, and settles in her chest. There inside, like a caged bird, that sensation starts tumbling, back and forth, faster and faster.

She removes her hand from the man's chest and he sits up in front of her, like a spring.

Azriel feels like he's going to explode. What has that witch put inside him? What kind of magic has she used on him?

"What the hell have you done to me?" he shouts. Azriel brings a hand to his chest when that pressure keeps growing.

Nimue mimics him, feeling like her chest is going to burst.

What has she done? Has she made a mistake? Perhaps her magic has betrayed her now for the first time...

She's hyperventilating, and when she feels that, indeed, she's going to explode like a firework, she looks into the eyes of the male in front of her.

And then everything suddenly calms down.

They stare at each other, stunned, not knowing what to say. Their breaths come together, equally fast and choppy.

And when their bodies stop vibrating and calm down, she feels it there.

There's something, something pulling her towards...

Towards him.

Azriel jumps to his feet, as if they hadn't just removed a poisoned arrow from his chest or he hadn't just lost liters and liters of blood. He finds Truth Teller in its usual place and with a practiced motion after years and years of battles, he grabs the girl by the collar of her clothes and lifts her up like a feather. The dagger rests comfortably against her neck, and she does nothing but look back at him, wide-eyed.

"Azriel!" Rhysand shouts. He ignores his High Lord, although every fiber of his being tells him to obey him, "Azriel, let her go!"

Then, Nimue comes to her senses. With a practiced movement, the winged male is kneeling on the ground again. The pretty black dagger is now in her hand, while with the other she pulls back his hair.

Azriel doesn't know when all this happened. He just knows that he blinked and now he's the prey. He clings to the girl's hand pulling his hair and tries to break free, but he can't understand how such a small woman can have the strength of a thousand men.

"Now I'm going to let go of you and you're not going to attack me. Understood?" She utters each word slowly, as if speaking in another language.

Nimue takes a step back, releasing the dagger, which falls to the ground with a dull thud.

Azriel stands up, and in a leap, he's next to Rhysand in an attack position.

Before Nimue, everyone present is on high alert. Some in attack position, others simply ready for whatever may happen.

The first to speak is Azriel, with the same accusatory tone as before, "What have you done to me? Undo it." He's trembling, and Nimue can't tell if it's from fear or from the pure rage she sees in his face.

Even if she wanted to, she couldn't undo it, because she herself doesn't know what has happened.

What is that pulling her? What is that feeling in her chest, an anchor dragging her toward that winged male?

Everyone remains silent, looking at each other.

However, it's Rhysand who speaks first, the voice of reason in a desperate situation, "Let's all calm down."

Because he doesn't know if he's the only one who sees it, who feels it. That sudden change in the air. It smells like cedar and mist, like Azriel. But if he pays attention, he smells the sea salt and the sweetness of poison in the air. The scent that the girl in front of them emits. It's intoxicating and chilling at the same time. He couldn't say.

What he can say, however, is what he sees crystal clear. Azriel's essence, mixed with that of the unknown girl. He sees how both mingle in the air.

And then, Rhysand would swear that he stopped hearing Azriel's heartbeat next to him.

"My mate," his friend whispers. His face, a complete expression of surprise, something that the Shadow Singer rarely showed, "She's my mate.”

Taglist:

@lilah-asteria @agentsofsheilds @leptitlu @just-here-reading @glitterypirateduck @donttellthecats

A/N:I really hope you are all enjoying it. Every kind of support is greatly appreciated, and thank you so much to those who already support it!! If you want to be added to the taglist, just let me know 🥰

#azriel x you #azriel x oc #azriel imagine #azriel x reader #azriel #azriel acotar #acotar fic #acotar fanfiction #acotar #rhysand #cassian #azriel fanfic #azriel fic

[killerlookz]

Hello my fellow Criminal Minds fan! 😊

May I please request headcanons for Spencer falling for a female agent who’s cynical about love and relationships due to being hurt in the past?

a/n: thank you sm for the request! i'd be happy to write this for you! :-)

Falling in Love Again | Spencer Reid Headcannons

pairing: spencer reid x f!reader

content: mentions of reader having been cheated on in the past, uhhhh that's really it haha

word count: 1,478 (sorry she's so long)

Spencer Reid had always been excited about falling in love, the thought of being so close to another person- to share so much with someone was such a wonderful thing to him.

Especially after watching his mom and dad growing up, and the way his father treated her-Spencer was dead set on never becoming anything like him, he looked forward to treating a woman right and spending the rest of his life with her.

But, for as excited as he was he was probably 20 times more nervous about the whole falling in love thing.

So when you came around, and he started to experience that warm, creeping feeling in his chest- he felt a little bit like his world was going to end.

Spencer had never made a move on anyone before, sure he did make out with Lila Archer that one time but he didn't exactly initiate it.

Spencer decided just to channel all of his romantic interest in becoming friends with you, at least he got to spend time with you, that's what really mattered to him. Maybe one day it would turn into something more.

Well.. he hoped until he couldn't help but overhear...

"I went on my first date in months last night, and all this guy did was talk about himself the entire time- didn't let me get a word out, I mean, can you believe it?" Emily says, exasperated

You look up at her as she stands in front of your desk, "Oh, trust me Emily, I can believe it." You shake your head

"I mean," She throws her hands up, "What is it with men? What's wrong with them."

"Everything," You smirk, "They're men. I can't remember I had a good experience with one of them- never maybe?" You laugh. "I've given up on dating."

Your words sunk into Spencer's brain, leaving him with a heavy feeling all around he felt awful- not just about the fact that his chances with you seemed to reduce to zero right there in that moment, but because of how upset you seemed under your sarcastic exterior, he could tell you'd really been hurt before.

A few weeks later you're out for drinks with Emily, Penelope, Morgan, Spencer, and JJ. Amidst the loud, drunken conversations and music at the bar- you can hear the faint chiming sounds of your ring tone, Who would be calling this late?

As you take your phone from your pocket, your stomach drops when you see the number flashing on the screen. The mere sight of those 10 digits making you want to throw your phone to the ground and stomp on it until nothing remains.

"Ooooh, who's that calling." Morgan smirks

You look him dead in the eyes and respond flatly, "My ex."

Morgan's smile doesn't fade instead his smirk seems to deepen, "You two got a little thang goin on?"

"No," You shove your phone back in your pocket, "More like he's trying to get back in my pants after cheating on me- twice."

"Ooh!" Morgan responds, wincing, "So he's a dog."

"A pig is more like it." You scoff, "Who does he think he is. I can't even imagine giving my time to another man again, and even if I could- what makes him so confident I'd give him the time of day."

That familiar heavy pain hits Spencer again.

He's staring at you, and it's like the rest of the bar doesn't even exist. Only you, as you bite your lip, trying to hide any emotion in your face.

Spencer has become good at reading your emotions, maybe it's because he spends so much time with you- maybe it's because of how often he finds himself staring at your face. As much as you try to seem nonchalant, he could tell how upset you are.

Spencer would spend more time than he wanted to admit fantasizing about treating you well, about giving you the love you never seemed to have.

Every time you made a snarky comment about love, or how men had treated you in the past Spencer would want so desperately bad to just tell you about how well he would treat you, how he would never ever hurt you, how he would spend his entire life taking care of you.

The words were practically scratching up his throat, begging to be let out. But still, he would just swallow them down, and give you a sympathetic look, he couldn't muster up being able to do anything more.

At the very least, Spencer's plan of becoming friends with you was working.

The two of you would become very good friends.

Spencer would learn everything he could about you, he would want to know as much as possible.

Not in a weird creepy way- but in a he just thinks you're so amazing he can't get enough of you sort of way.

Every time you and Spencer hung out he wouldn't be able to ignore that nagging feeling, the thought of putting an arm around you and pulling you close, of holding your hand in his, or placing a delicate kiss on your cheek.

The thoughts would eat away at Spencer, and he would only fall more, and more in love with you.

Still, he would lose more hope every time you divulged information about your prior encounters with love. He couldn't blame you for feeling so cynical it, not after what you'd been through.

Spencer would think about his mom, about all the wives Rossi had been through, about Hotch and Hailey, about you- he would wonder why love had to be so painful for some people. He was sure he would never hurt somebody he loved.

One day you're over Spencer's apartment, watching a rom-com, and you make a snide remark, "Oh, real love isn't like that." You scoff and roll your eyes.

Spencer doesn't know what it is, but something in him makes him respond, "It could be." He says meekly

You look up at him, caught off guard at his disagreement, "Hm?" you hum

Spencer wasn't able to take it any more, he hated hearing your cynical nature. He would need you to know how you deserved the entire world.

"Love- It can be like the movies." He affirms his stance.

"Not in my experience."

"I would give you love like that." Spencer would tremble as he makes his confession, so unsure of what would happen next.

He would be terrified of your reaction, scared he was about to mess everything up, ruin any future the two of you had together, and even worse, lose your friendship.

"W-what do you mean, Spence."

"I mean, you always talk about how you've been hurt before, and it just-" He takes a deep breath in, contemplating what he's going to say next, "I love you, y/n," He looks down at his lap, then back up at you, "I would never hurt you."

Despite the obvious passion in Spencer's voice, you were still hesitant about it, but everything inside of you told you to give Spencer a chance.

Spencer would insist on taking things slow, you were his first real relationship and he wouldn't want to rush things, for both his and yours sake. He wouldn't pressure you to put a label on things, or even say you're "dating"- those would come on your own time.

Spencer was determined to make you believe in love again, and he would do everything in his power to make sure you knew without a doubt how he felt about you.

Spencer would often get to work before you to surprise you with coffee and a breakfast sandwich, or a donut on your desk in the mornings.

He would insist on having a date night at least once a week, even if the two of you were on a case, ordering room service or finding a local pizza restaurant way late at night was sufficient, as long as the two of you got to spend time together.

Spencer would be hesitant about PDA or really moving too quickly into being too affectionate, still, he would frequently hold your hand, squeezing it tight when he could tell you were stressed or upset- either by a case or by life in general, he just wanted to give you that extra reassurance that he was there for you.

Spencer would really put the work in, he'd exert more effort than you had ever seen from any past relationship into even the tiniest things.

Spencer wouldn't mind though, anything he could do to reassure you that he loves and cares about you, he would do it.

Every little act of love and gratitude would be worth it to him.

He would savor and cherish every hug, every shared glance, every peck on the forehead, on the cheek, on the lips.

It was all worth it to him, every second of it- all he wanted to do was make you smile, to make you fall in love again.

#spencer reid #spencer reid headcannons #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fic #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n

[tiredfox64]

Hi! How are you? First of all, I love your way of writing, it's amazing! I wish I had that magic that you have. UwU <3 Can I ask you to write a Bi-Han x Chubby!Afab!Reader? Where the reader is Liu Kang's apprentice, but since he does not have time to train her, he takes her to Bi-Han and he mocks her for not seeming strong, but when they face each other, things change and for the first time Bi-Han meets He is attracted to her and wants her for himself. But the reader feels insecure, thinking that this was some kind of mockery. There can be a lot of fluff and a possessive Bi-Han. Please :3

Thick Thighs Can Change Lives

Prior notes: Hoi!! I’m doin fine just trying to finish the semester strong. How bout you? And thank you for liking my writing! (´・ω・｀)

Pairing: Bi-Han x Chubby! Afab reader

Warnings ‼️: KICK HIS ASS!!! AHHHH

It’s an honor to be an apprentice to Lord Liu Kang. He treats you well and always saw potential in you no matter what. Your body did not change the fact that you had a fighting spirit. There was strength in you that was hidden. Though others will doubt you they will eventually find out the truth that you are mighty.

If only Bi-Han saw that from the beginning.

You were unsure of Liu Kang’s decision to send you to the Lin Kuei for more training. He apologized profusely for not having enough time to do it himself. You understood since there were many others that he had to train. He trusted Bi-Han to take good care of you during your stay. If only the first interaction was good.

“This is the woman? Are you sure she is capable of fighting?” Bi-Han looked you up and down with a look of uncertainty.

“Trust me, Bi-Han. She is more than capable. There is a reason why she is my apprentice. Do not judge, lest ye be judged.” And he means it.

Bi-Han grumbled at Liu Kang’s response. He thinks the god is foolish for taking you in. You have proportions he hadn’t seen before on a warrior. He expects abs and flat stomachs, not chubby bellies. He circled you, checking you out from all angles and not in a good way. He pokes you to check for any muscles. You keep hearing a disappointed sigh.

“If this task is too hard for you, Bi-Han, I can always have the monks at the Wu Shi train her.”

Liu Kang’s words infuriated Bi-Han. He makes it sound like he can’t train you himself. That this task is impossible for a man like him. Forget it, he’ll take you in.

“No, I will take her in. She will be better than before. Come on.” He grabbed your hand and yanked you before you could even say goodbye to Liu Kang.

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

There were many in the Lin Kuei who questioned their grandmaster’s decisions. You were not like them, that was evident.

He didn’t even work with you at first. After about two days you had to go up to him to ask if he was actually going to train you or not. Clearly it’s not that he’s into training other cause when you found him he was watching all the other Lin Kuei assassins train.

“Grandmaster, when are you going to train me? I thought that was the reason Lord Liu Kang brought me to you.” You reminded him of his purpose.

He groaned as he remembered that you were still here. If he’s going to train he will do it separate from the clan.

“Fine, come with me.”

You followed him to a secluded area of the temple. Your heart was pumping. You were excited to show that you are capable of anything but afraid of failing. Liu Kang’s words echoed in your head telling you to focus on your actions, not the outcome. Give it your best shot and kick his butt!

“Show me what you are capable of. I hope you can show me that you are a worth opponent.” He sounded like he already had little faith in you.

From the start of the fight you were already proving him wrong. You were blocking every attack. Bi-Han was going easy on you for now but seeing as you could at least defend yourself he was hoping you would attack soon.

Hell, you were even dodging his ice attacks. He couldn’t even freeze one of your legs in place. Looks like he was wrong to think that you would be an easier target to hit.

Throughout it all you watched as he grew more and more frustrated. He set the bar too low and seeing that he was wrong was the worst thing he could have expected. Though your special move was probably way worse than having his ego be tampered with.

You finally attacked him. A palm strike to the jaw caused him to fall back. Before he could comprehend what you just did and get himself up you were already above him. You pressed down on him which put one of his legs in an uncomfortable position. You pinned his arm down before swinging your right leg behind his head. With all your strength you managed to flip both of you before locking his head in with your legs. And there you have it, you got him in a triangle choke.

This was just humiliating for Bi-Han. He didn’t think it was possible to lose to you. You had him right when you wanted him. Your legs made him feel like he was being squeezed by a vicious anaconda. The more he struggled the more he lost his breath. It didn’t stop there oh no. You started bending his arm and leg that were trapped between you two. You bent them in directions that would be impossible to achieve unless you broke his bones. His free hand came and slapped your thigh. He tapped out. He couldn’t take it.

You unraveled your legs to set him free. You were panting a bit and felt a bit sweaty. But compared to how he was now you looked like you never even fought him.

“I’m sorry, grandmaster, if that was too much.” You apologized even though you didn’t need to.

Once you were back up on your feet you stuck your hand out to help Bi-Han up. He looked up at you, taking in all your details for once. Maybe he lost too much oxygen when you were chocking him because for some reason you seem so cute right now. Yet he was still upset from being beaten by you. He didn’t take your hand but got up himself and walked away. Not a word was said from him and you were left wondering if you did something wrong.

I can guarantee you didn’t do anything wrong. Bi-Han just needs time to think of where he went wrong and what kind of woman he is attracted to. Looks like he might have an unexpected type.

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

No matter how many breaths of fresh air Bi-Han got his new stance on you didn’t change. He has enough oxygen going into his brain this new liking is not a delusion.

He was wrong but he won’t say it out loud. You have the strength of a warrior with a heart of gold. It was all hidden in that plush body of yours. What a fool he was to doubt you.

Now his eyes are always on you. Without the mindset of you being weak he sees now that there is much more to you.

Why didn’t he see it before! Just look at that cute face of yours, especially your cheeks. He wants to squish that face and not in a skull crushing way. And those legs good heavens! Those thighs could kill a man yet he would gladly put his face between them again. Your chest is a good alternative as well. He won’t deny he noticed that from the beginning but he would remind himself about it constantly. It just took him a while to realize the whole package was enticing. Screw it, let him get his hands on your tummy.

Look, Bi-Han likes his women strong. That’s one thing. But if chubby is the new strong well he won’t hesitate to take it. And don’t tell him that’s wrong he can’t be wrong two times in a row.

You did notice his stare. It was different now. You noticed one of his eyebrows would raise as he looked at you. His eyes wandered up and down. Before he could even walk over to have a word with you, you would start walking away. You were concerned he would insult you about your looks. Why else was he checking you out like that?

No one walks away from the grandmaster. You will listen to what he has to say. Bi-Han walked quickly towards you before yanking you back by your shirt.

“Where do you think you are going? Do you not see that I am trying to talk to you.” He is giving you his gentlest voice but it still feels like he will rip your spine out.

“I’m sorry, grandmaster.” You turned around quickly to look at him.

Suddenly his hands were at your face. He had a good grip on your soft cheeks, pinching and squeezing them. You looked up at him with confusion. You brought your hands up in an effort to remove his hands only for him to quickly slap them away. Bi-Han isn’t done admiring your beauty.

You thought he was being mean to you again. He was taunting you by bringing attention to your round face. This ain’t the first time something like this has happened. The only difference is that Bi-Han seems determined to look at you. He’s not saying anything which confuses you even more.

Yes, yes, she is perfect. She will look perfect standing next to me. No one will dare touch her unless they wish to feel her wrath. if anyone dares to say something negative about her weight I will make them pay for their disrespect. They will be forced to watch their hands lose function when I freeze them-

“Bi-Han, what are you doing to her?” Tomas’ voice rang out.

Bi-Han broke away from his inner monologue. He wasn’t done making plans on making you his. His eyes caught onto the sight of Tomas’ hand reaching out to grab your wrist. You looked at him in desperation as you were so confused by what was happening. But suddenly you were flung over Bi-Han’s shoulder. He did it as if you weighted as much as a kitten. He started walking away but he had something to say to Tomas.

“Mind your business, Tomas.” He snapped at his adopted brother before walking off with you.

You were humiliated by the fact that all of the Lin Kuei were watching their grandmaster carry you away. His arm was wrapped around your thighs. You didn’t see his face but he was satisfied that his arm was squeezing your thick thighs.

“Please…just put me down already. I got it you’re strong enough to pick me up.” Your disappointed voice was muffled by your hands covering your face.

“Silence. I will put you down when I want to.”

Were you silent or were you silenced?

Bi-Han brought you all the way to his office before placing you down on the ground. Don’t think you can catch your breath now because his arms quickly wrap around your waist and pull you onto his lap. This day just keeps getting weirder and weirder.

“What are you doing?! Don’t you think I’m a little too heavy to be sitting on your lap?”

He looked offended by your words. As if you were the one who was calling him heavy. It only made his grip on you grow tighter, making sure you won’t leave now.

“Do you see me as a man who is unable to handle anything? Don’t be so foolish. Just sit here and look pretty for me as I work.” He instructed you.

Pretty? Did he just call you pretty? Maybe you hit him too hard during practice. But right now you don’t feel like disobeying any orders from him now. Even if this is a joke you rather wait to get pushed off than get off yourself and face a possible punishment. So just sit there and look your prettiest. You already are a gorgeous lady so there is no need to push yourself.

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

It’s not a joke anymore. It stopped being a joke a long time ago.

Every day since that weird interaction it’s like Bi-Han can’t keep his hands off you. He would go near you just to squeeze some part of you. It started with your arms which you really hated at first. You thought he was pointing out how he couldn’t feel muscles in that area. Wrong, he just liked the feel of it.

In general he likes the feel of you. But may the gods help anyone who tries to grab at you. Only Bi-Han can do that.

The one and only time you practiced with the others in the Lin Kuei it ended with someone’s face being smashed in and you being dragged away. Hey, he shouldn’t have smacked your stomach and called you names. He was just a sore loser who couldn’t comprehend losing to you. Well now he just lost his face privileges and respect from the grandmaster.

If anyone doubted you they had to face the fury of the Lin Kuei grandmaster. If fact they can’t even look at you at this point. If they looked at you for at least five seconds Bi-Han would start holding onto you like a child who is afraid their favorite toy will get taken away.

Wherever he went, you had to be with him. He needed to keep his eyes on you. In his mind you are already his, there is no arguing about it. You didn’t even know that’s what’s going on. It just happened.

Bi-Han loves to have you on his lap. It shows everyone that you are his now. He loves having his arms wrapped around your waist and squeezing it. Occasionally he would rest his head against your shoulder. That’s the calmest anyone has ever seen him. He would compare his hand size to your thighs. You thought it was another insult before you felt him squeeze them.

Squeezing, poking, squishing, grabbing, holding, secretly loving, that’s all he seemed to do. If you ever asked why, Bi-Han would silence you. You’re not allowed to question his actions nor hint that there was anything wrong with you. The only time you were allowed to have space was when you need to use the bathroom, eat, or sleep. And even getting him to go away so you could sleep was an issue.

You thought your saving grace would come once you heard Liu Kang would be visiting. He wanted to check on your progress and see if you wanted to return to the fire temple. He manages to make more time for you. No matter how much time you were away from him you were still Liu Kang’s apprentice.

Though that depends if Bi-Han will let you go.

One of the clansmen alerted Bi-Han of the god’s presence. Liu Kang soon came walking into the office. He was shocked to see you sitting on Bi-Han’s lap. Clearly it wasn’t fully your decision since you looked shy about it.

“I see you have gotten along with my apprentice. Is there any reason she is sitting on your lap instead of training?” Liu Kang addressed Bi-Han.

“Is there an issue with this. You brought her to me, I make the decision on what she is supposed to be doing right now.”

“I mean, I think I should have been training at this point but you were barely letting me do that.” You talked back, barely caring about what is happening anymore.

Liu Kang’s glowing eyes kept shifting between you and Bi-Han. If what you say is true, which it is, that means the grandmaster has been lacking in his duties. Though to Bi-Han he hasn’t lost anything from this experience.

“If that is the case it might be best to come back with me, my apprentice. Perhaps Bi-Han has other things he would prefer to attend to.” Liu Kang gestured for you to come with him.

The moment you tried to get off, Bi-Han pressed your body against him more. He glared at Liu Kang who looked back in shock. There is no chance in hell that he will let you walk out of this temple. No one will take his strong, chubby woman from him.

You sighed, realizing he will never give up. It dawned on you that he wasn’t making fun of you. He genuinely liked you now that you have shown your potential. You shrugged your shoulders at Liu Kang since you didn’t know what to do now. You would like more training but it might be a whole battle just to get Bi-Han off you. In a way you’re not complaining all that much.

“What is the meaning of this, Bi-Han? You have lacked in your duties to-“

Bi-Han didn’t want to hear anymore from Liu Kang. He carried you in his arms like a princess and walked out of the office. Liu Kang followed close behind him, still scolding him for his actions. All Bi-Han would respond with was a blunt no and continued walking on.

You’re left to think while this madness is going on. There is one thing you are certain you are feeling. Pride. Pride in the fact that you not only beat Bi-Han and proved your worth but proved that you are worth his affection. You changed this man’s perspective and his type. His eyes have been opened to the possibility of having a bigger figure in his arms and in his life. This is the way.

In an effort to get Liu Kang off his back he walked into his bedroom and slammed the door shut before Liu Kang could get another word out. He placed you on the bed before laying down next to you and resting his head on your chest. It’s hopeless, he’s too attached to you. I mean just look at that face. You didn’t think he could unfurrow his eyebrows. This is a moment in history!

“You’re not gonna let me go I’m guessing.” You asked.

“No.” Plain and simple from Bi-Han.

You held yourself back from chuckling. He’s clearly the possessive type. And if he can see that there is beauty in you then you will take it even if you had to beat him up first for him to see that.

“Fine, you win. Just this once.” You said softly.

Are you happy with your prize, Bi-Han?

After notes: Good amount of people don’t expect me to be strong because I’m chubby. A lot of my strength comes from my legs. But I’ve had instances where I have slapped and even punched people by accident. Literally told a story yesterday of how I punched someone I knew by accident and they folded. Anyways I was very happy to get a request like this. I hope you are happy with the outcome I did my best! I’m sorry i didn’t post yesterday I was very tired and mentally drained from all the bs. Hopefully that didn’t affect what I wrote. Adiós!

#mortal kombat #mk1 #mortal kombat 1 #mortal kombat1 #mortal kombat x reader #mortal kombat x you #mk x reader #mk x you #mk fanfic #bi han x you #bi han x reader #bi han mk #bi han sub zero #bi han mortal kombat #bi han #sub zero x you #sub zero x reader #sub zero #chubby reader

[bonezone44]

but pervy roller derby coach joel and seasoned derby girl fucking in joels truck after a bout when ezra finds them with the windows all fogged up… ofc he joins in

You fucking know it!

Roller Derby Coach!Joel Miller x F!Reader x Boyfriend!Ezra

tags: unprotected p-in-v, double creampie, Ezra and Joel being spiteful towards one another. praise, degredation, use of the word "whore" but in a sexy way

--

He wanted to offer you a personal congratulations after helping your Jammer get point after point, resulting in your team's win. 157 to 163. It was a close one and your offense is what made the difference. Joel lost count of how many times you knocked the opposing Jammer off the track, running them back and killing their spirit. He's surprised you still have any energy left after all that work.

But here you are in his truck with him, bouncing on his cock like it's nothing. You got nothing on but your sports bra and youre soaked in sweat with your gear airing out in his flat bed.

Then Ezra’s wandering around the parking lot outside the rink, wondering where the hell you are because there's an after party to go to. And he already smoked a couple joints with the referees, and you still hadn't appeared. Then he sees the foggy window, the way the truck is bouncing, and he can't help but creep closer. His whole body floods with heat when he sees your gear. He looks around, sees if anybody has eyes on him before opening up the passenger door.

"Shit!" Joel curses.

You both stop in a panic. Your hands gripping his biceps to stabilize yourself.

Ezra's all smiles. "You don't think she's done enough work tonight, Coach?" He chuckles at your silent, shocked faces. He climbs inside and shuts the door behind him. "Our superstar here requires appreciation. Not more strain on her supremely effective musculature." He crawls closer.

"How 'boutchu--" Joel begins.

Ezra wraps his hand around the back of your neck, pulling you in for a kiss.

Joel’s hands are still tight on your hips. Watching Ezra's tongue meet yours makes his cock twitch and pisses him off at the same time. He grunts.

Ezra's hazy eyes slide over to Joel's after he pulls away from you. "How 'bout I what, Joel?"

Joel snarls and shoves Ezra back with a broad palm to his chest. "How 'boutchu see with your eyes and not with your hands?" He turns back to you. "She's mine right now, and I ain't gonna let you touch her 'til I'm done with her."

Ezra chuckles and undoes his pants, pulling his hardening cock out. "Go ahead and fill her up good, then." He smirks and begins to stroke himself. "Patience is a virtue, and although I am far from a virtuous man, I have been known to wander briefly on the path of the principled." He breaths deeply through his nose, taking in the smell of sweat and sex. "A path more easily endured when enticed by heavenly rewards."

Joel rolls his eyes. "Does he ever shut the fuck up?"

Ezra chuckles again. "You best make haste, old man, before that little blue pill wears off and you go softer than an ice cream cone in the Fourth of July sunshine."

Joel smirks at Ezra and shakes his head. He turns back to you, his hands slide up your sides, grip your breasts through your bra. "You ever seen me take a pill?"

"No," you shake your head. You're so overwhelmed by the situation, you're surprised you were able to say anything at all. And Joel's strong fingers are working your chest, working the muscles in your hips and thighs.

"I don't need no pill," he says with a haughty grin, thrusting up into you. "I don't need her to ride me, neither," he adds for good measure. "I can make her come with my cock alone." He holds you still and you angle your hips slightly as his own hips jump in the seat. "Come on, baby. Show 'im how good this cock is. Come on, now."

You wrap your arms around his shoulders and dig your face into his neck, moaning and keening with every strong thrust. You hear Ezra moaning, too. You turn your head to the side and see him panting, biting his lips. He goes from jerking himself off to squeezing his cock at the base and shaking it, staving off his orgasm with a desperate look on his face. It's all so much, you're sent over the edge--your orgasm barely noticable amidst Joel's relentless assault. How can you come down when everything around you is still building and escalating?

"Gonna fill this pussy up, now," Joel groans. His meaty claws close and spread your asscheeks as he begins to grind into you.

You try to remind yourself to breathe as you squeeze him tighter, whimpering and panting.

"Gonna give you all this come," he groans again and you feel a rush of warmth inside of you.

"Come here, baby," you hear Ezra speak up. "Lemme feel that." And before you know it, you're in Ezra's lap. His cock slides readily into yours and he pants and moans pathetically. "Oh fuck, oh shit, oh shit, baby. That's so good." His hips are barely moving as he holds you close against him, but the squelch of your messy pussy is loud. "Mmmm-that's so good. that's that good shit right there. Oh fuck, baby. Gonna fill you up, too. Mmhmm--gonna give you that sloppy cunt, huh? You like that, baby?" His eyes go wide and you're locked in, nodding and agreeing to whatever he says. "You like bein naughty? You like being filthy?"

At this point, it doesn't matter what either of them say. You'll agree to just about anything that comes out of their mouths--and their cocks.

"Fuckin filthy," he mutters with a snarl and brings his hand down to your ass with a harsh, solid slap. "Fuckin filthy whore. Nnnngg---" He comes inside of you.

You feel dizzy. Spent. Tired. Dazed. You should probably hydrate soon. And you wonder if anyone else on the team is looking for the three of you. You hope Joel has some napkins somewhere in his car, but you're not too worried because you have a pack of wet wipes in your gear bag. You never thought you'd use them for something like this, but... so it goes.

No one suspects a single thing at the after party. You throw back a few shots with your teammates and leg wrestle on the bar floor. You dance to the salsa music someone is playing on the juke box. You consider doing those pelvic floor exercises you saw on youtube once.

------------

a/n: I love life and I love being alive.

#joel miller x f!reader x ezra #the ask task

[wren-kitchens]

so shiver, but shiver with a friend

1034 words

the boat is creaking. that's not even remotely abnormal; the boat spends more time creaking than it does staying silent—gem built it so it would do that. sure, it took a lil' getting used to, but it didn’t take long for the rhythmic rocking and gentle creaking to become conducive to sleep, and now gem finds it far more difficult to sleep in silence. after all, silence means something is wrong—the engine rumbles if it's working, the waves splash against the sides of the boat if it's still afloat. a creaky boat means gem is still alive, and the boat is still running. but this isn’t your average ambient creaking. like she said, gem knows the noises of her little fishing boat like the back of her hand, and this is not a normal creak. this is a suspicious creak. and- sure, that might sound silly, but have you memorised every sound this boat can make? didn’t think so. 

this fic exists for two reasons, which are stiff stiffyck's love for qpr elven duo (gem and scar) and also me overthinking scar's wheelchair worldbuilding in the hermitcraft world

this could be a lot better but alas I have been consumed by depression writers block, so honestly i'm just proud this ended up as a finished fic

btw this is one of my first times writing wheelchairs, and whilst it is fantasy so things are gonna be a little different, I would appreciate if someone could tell me if I did something wrong/insensitively!

the boat is creaking.

that's not even remotely abnormal; the boat spends more time creaking than it does staying silent—gem built it so it would do that. sure, it took a lil' getting used to, but it didn’t take long for the rhythmic rocking and gentle creaking to become conducive to sleep, and now gem finds it far more difficult to sleep in silence. after all, silence means something is wrong—the engine rumbles if it's working, the waves splash against the sides of the boat if it's still afloat. a creaky boat means gem is still alive, and the boat is still running.

but this isn’t your average ambient creaking. like she said, gem knows the noises of her little fishing boat like the back of her hand, and this is not a normal creak. this is a suspicious creak. and- sure, that might sound silly, but have you memorised every sound this boat can make? didn’t think so.

anyway, all of this to say that gem is pretty sure someone is on her boat at the middle of the night for what she deeply hopes are not nefarious reasons. although, she cannot think of any reason someone would be sneaking onto her boat at two in the morning—nefarious or otherwise. maybe it's grian trying to lag some things out of her chests? but why on earth he wouldn't do that in the day when she wasn't on board, gem has no clue.

there's a new noise now, one that suggests against the idea of nefarious deeds, but only confuses gem more: a kind of squeaking, like a rubber ring being taken off, or an air mattress being slept on. okay, that doesn’t rule anything out at all, and only serves to make everything far more complicated. who is bringing a rubber something onto her boat at 2am? what is happening here?

overtaken by an amounting curiosity to whatever the hell is actually going on, gem climbs out of bed and pads softly along the floorboards in her slippers to her door. she regrets not installing one of those peepholes, because now she actually has to engage with the something that's happening outside in order to investigate. gem is sure there isn’t anything especially dangerous that could be going on, but she pulls out her sword preemptively as she opens the door slowly to find-

to find..

well, she's not sure what she's found.

"gem!" says a cheery scar, who is. on her boat? how is he on her boat- he uses a wheelchair, and the boat is in the middle of the river.

except- no, hang on, his wheelchair seems to be completely lacking wheels, which gem would argue is the main point of a wheelchair. where the wheels should otherwise be, there are floatation devices—seemingly rubber, which explains the noises gem was hearing earlier—in patented hotguy colours, so she assumes that's intentional. okay, that's- that sure is something.

"you-" gem scrambles for any words to express how bizarre this situation is and fails miserably. "you’re on my boat." is all she manages. void, it is way too late (early?) to be trying to figure this out.

"I am on your boat!" scar says, looking rather proud of himself. it's kind of sweet, to be fair—even as it only adds to the crazy situation. "y’know, I didn't think i’d actually manage it. last time I tried, I sunk."

gem blinks, giving up on making sense of the situation now and letting herself just go with the bizarre. "yeah, I can imagine why scar." she gestures at the rubber wheels (they look a bit like wheels, anyway). "how did you get those?"

"cub helped me!" scar smiles, as if this was a normal conversation to be having. does he even realise how strange this situation is, or is this just normal for him now? "see- you know how my chair has an elytra mode?"

"uh huh."

"well, now it has a swimming mode!" scar says, and he clicks a button on the underside of the seat. within an instant, the floatation devices deflate, replaced swiftly by the regular wheels. "ta da!"

"that- I mean, that's very cool." gem says, and she means it, despite how unenthusiastic she knows she must sound. in her defence, it is the middle of the night. "I just- why are you here?"

something changes in scar's expression immediately, and gem panics a little until scar says meekly, "it- okay, well. now it sounds silly."

gem snorts. "because showing off your inflatable wheelchair at two in the morning is normal?" she tilts her head, and her voice is fond when she says, "you know you can tell me anything, right?"

a smile tugs at the corners of scar's lips, and gem feels something warm in her chest to see it. "I know, I know." he hesitates for a second, before giving a huff of exasperation. "I wanted a hug." scar admits, glancing at the floor.

"wh- scar." gem finds herself beginning to smile. "do you really think I would ever turn down a hug from you?"

scars grin is almost shy as he opens his arms, and gem practically falls into them, burying her face in his jacket. man, she has missed hugs from scar; she loves the way they fit together so well, like pieces of a puzzle, perfectly matched to one another. there are very few places where gem feels entirely at home—she's been pretty much everywhere, so she knows what home feels like—and scar is closer to home than any place has ever felt to her.

before she knows it, scar has scooted forward just enough to unbalance her, and she lands on top of him. gem scoffs playfully as scar laughs to himself, holding her closer.

"I can't hug you properly if you’re stood up, y’know." scar mumbles into her hair.

gem rolls her eyes, fond as anything. "well, i’m not complaining." she's quiet for a moment, letting herself appreciate the moment—breathing it all in. "I love you." gem murmurs.

scar squeezes her, and gem can almost hear his smile when he says, "I love you too."

#hermitfic #wren writes #gtwscar #goodtimeswithscar #geminitay #hermitcraft #please don't tag as ship <3 #elven duo #hermitblr #I can’t figure out any more tags tell me if I need something else GKDHS

[bloodsuckingfiends]

not even going anon for this. horny on main always pls. offering a lil Rolan headcanon I've been stewing on recently. I plan to make something of it eventually, but perhaps you can drabble from it now to sate me :)

Rolan is usually one to prefer softer sex - unending eye contact, kisses, more "romantic" positions.

Tav finally convinces him to take her from behind, and he's hesitant at first - until the sight of him unleashes something filthy and primal within him. It's as if he snaps, quickly shifting from slow, hesitant movements to desperate thrusts filled with raw desire. Soft kisses along her neck turn into love nips and then full on mating bites as her hips arch back into his - yeah. Just full on, animalistic urges, breathy grunts in her ear, Rolan 🥲🥵

AHHHHH making a usually soft man absolutely feral? Yes please 🥵

From Behind

It wasn’t that Tav was disappointed in her and Rolan's sex life. No it was quite the opposite actually. Rolan was a more than attentive lover, always taking into consideration Tav’s pleasure over his own. Always making sure that she reached her peak at least once before he even considered climbing towards his own.

Whilst in town one evening, shopping for a particular book, Tav had overheard a rather, intimate natured conversation that two women were whispering and giggling over.

“-from behind? And does it feel any different?”

“Oh quite! Much better if you ask me. Hits that spot almost every time.” The woman murmured to her friend whose face held utter astonishment.

“I’ll have to see if Maldor would be willing to try.”

Tav’s face blushed a deep color at the realization of just what the the two women had been chatting about. She quickly grabs what she was looking for, pays and leaves, face never changing shade from the deep flush from earlier.

Later that night, as Tav tucks into bed beside Rolan, and settles in to sleep, the wizard rolls over to pull her back against his chest like usual. Tav's breath hitches when his hips settle against her ass, her mind immediately shifting to what she had overheard at the shops.

"Are you alright?" Rolan leans up on his elbow, eyes looking over her to check for discomfort.

Tav startles at the sound of his almost gruff voice, "Hmm? Oh, yes, I'm alright."

"You're quite skittish, dear, did I do something to upset you?" the wizard gently pushes on her shoulder, getting her to roll over onto her back so he can get a good look at her face.

Her face which is flushed all over again, with eyes that are pointedly trying not to meet Rolan's.

Rolan moves his hand away from her shoulder, not wanting to cross any boundaries, even if he's unaware of any. Tav worries her bottom lip with her teeth, before meeting his concerned gaze.

"No, no you didn't do anything, my love. Just a long day is all." the lie leaves her mouth suspiciously quick, and Rolan notices the way she nervously swallows after speaking it.

"Tav, if you need your space, I am more than happy to give it to yo-"

"It's not that!" she cuts him off, "I just thought of something... specific, when you, well, you pressed against my ass."

The tiefling raises a brow at her, "What- Tav what are you talking about?" He's utterly confused at the way she's stumbling over her words over something so simple.

Tav sighs in defeat and avoids Rolan's gaze while speaking her next words, "While at the shop this evening, I overheard two women talking about their, well... intimate lives. And well, one of them mentioned how good it feels to be- well, to be taken from behind." She finishes and takes a breath before meeting his eyes once again.

"Is that something you'd like to try?" he asks so casually that it throws Tav off for a moment. Rolan was one who preferred more intimate positions, usually favoring missionary. He liked being able to watch Tav's features as they contorted with pleasure and reacted to his ministrations, liked being able to lock eyes with her as she came apart around him.

"Well, I wouldn't be opposed to it, I suppose. Only if you would be okay with it of cour-mmph." Rolan's lips meet Tav's in an abrupt kiss, affectively cutting off her anxious rambling.

"I am more than willing to try this with you, dear." he mumbles between kisses, his hand beginning to roam down her side to rest on her hip.

Tav deepens the kiss, tongue darting out to meet his, her hands coming up to rest on the ridged planes of his chest. Her fingers trace over the infernal ridges, before coming up to rest on his broad shoulders. She gasps into Rolan's mouth when she feels his fingers trail down her belly, toying at the edge of her panties, before dipping inside and gathering her wetness on his middle finger.

"So wet already. Just from the thought of me fucking you." he murmurs against her jaw, kissing along the bone.

"Please-" Tav begs. For what? She's not entirely sure.

"So needy." Rolan teases as he swipes his finger in little circles around her throbbing clit. His rhythm steady, his touch light. Tav's thighs tense, then instinctively fall open a bit more, the sensation almost too much.

"Want you to come for me before I fuck you from behind, can you do that for me?" he whispers against her lips, finger dipping to her fluttering hole, wetting itself to continue circling her.

"Mmhm." Tav whines desperately, her own fingers clasping around his forearm, already climbing to her peak. It's not long before her thighs begin to shake, her core clenching as she tumbles over the ledge. She throws her head back as Rolan finally dips two of his fingers into her spasming cunt. He fucks her through her orgasm, lips pressing wet kisses to her exposed throat, whispering praises against the taut skin.

"Always so good for me. Now I want you on your knees sweetheart." He holds a hand out for her to take as she lifts to her wobbly knees. As she kneels before him, he gets into position behind her.

One clawed hand traces up Tav's spine, making it's way up to the back of her neck to grip and push her down into place. Her elbows meet the mattress. A shocked sound huffs past Tav's lips, and Rolan's hands caress over her hips, kneading the plush flesh lovingly.

He reaches down, taking his length in hand, he drags the tip through her wet folds.

"Are you ready to take me, dear?" he asks lovingly, notching his head in her entrance. Tav nods, looking back over her shoulder to meet his amber gaze.

When he pushes into her, she gasps. The head of him instantly brushing against that sweet spot nestled deep inside her. Rolan bends forward, an arm scooping around Tav's middle to pull her up against his chest. His thrusts pick up speed, his hips rutting into her frantically.

"Is this what you wanted? To be fucked like this?" he almost hisses the words. The hand wrapped around Tav, gropes at her breasts, squeezing the flesh and teasing at her peaked nipples.

"Yes yes yes." Tav chants breathily as he relentlessly pounds into her g-spot. She can feel her second orgasm building in the pit of her stomach.

"Gonna fill you up like this. Gonna fill you with my cum." Rolan groans into her neck, his free hand coming up to rest on her belly. "I'm so close."

"Come in me. Please, I wanna feel you fill me." Tav whimpers, holding onto his forearms.

With a guttural moan, Rolan releases into Tav, his seed flooding her walls being the thing that triggers her own orgasm.

Rolan thrusts a couple of more times, riding out their highs, before gently pulling out of her. He takes her into his arms, carefully laying her down to rest. Tav lays her head on his chest, making attempts to catch her breath.

"So, was it what you hoped it would be?" Rolan laughs as he tries to catch his own.

"Everything and more." Tav dopily smiles.

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #rolan x tav #holy rolan empire #bg3 rolan #rolan #rolan x reader #Rolan x tav smut #Rolan x reader smut #Rolan x tav angst #Rolan x tav fluff #baldurs gate #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 oc #baldurs gate tav #rolan fanart #rolan nation #tiefling

[half-bakedboy]

one hell of a story

For @bucktommyweek prompt: alternate first meeting | 1.4k | Teen

Tommy's not usually one to fly for anyone but LAFD and himself, but the Skywitness News Eight helicopter desperately needed a pilot. He owed his old army buddy, Trent, a favor, which is how he finds himself trying to land a failing helicopter in the middle of a baseball field. Unfortunately, he fails. But he meets Evan in the process, so it's worth it.

read on ao3 or under the cut

“This is Taylor Kelly with your morning traffic update… and we are going down!”

----

Tommy isn’t even supposed to be here. He’s not usually one to fly for anyone but LAFD and himself, but the Skywitness News Eight helicopter desperately needed a pilot and he owed his old army buddy, Trent, a favor. Tommy was too kind to tell him to fuck off, though, he’s pretty sure those two words will leave his mouth the next time he sees Trent’s face. 

“Tommy, what’s going on?” Taylor shouts. She’s holding onto the seat belt around her like her life depends on it—and it does, but Tommy isn’t about to tell her that. 

“Some kind of engine malfunction. Does Trent keep this thing in good condition?” Tommy asks. 

“How am I supposed to know?!” He really hoped for a more confidence-inducing answer. “I’m pretty sure he likes this thing more than me if that says anything!” 

“It does,” Tommy mutters, though he knows Taylor can hear him through the radio. Trent always talked about his crush on the redhead and how he would drop everything if she agreed to date him. Unfortunately, Tommy now knows he’s not exactly her type—no man is—so he thinks he’ll have to break the news sooner rather than later. 

“Are we falling?! Why does it feel like we’re falling?!” Taylor screams, panicked gasps following in quick succession. 

“I’m going to do my best to land, okay? There’s a baseball field below us, and if all goes to plan, we’ll land safely and you’ll have one hell of a story,” Tommy relays. 

Taylor laughs humorlessly into the radio. “And if it doesn’t?” 

“It’ll still be one hell of a story,” he declares. 

Then he focuses on saving their lives. 

The baseball field is immense and empty enough that he doesn’t have to worry about collateral damage from the landing, but he realizes quickly it won’t be that easy. Every single control he usually manipulates with ease shakes under his grip, and no matter how much pressure he puts on the cyclic, there’s no tilting his way in the right direction. 

He gets the machine as close to the ground as possible and prays that’s enough. 

All he remembers is the blades getting louder, a metallic screeching, and a terror-filled shriek, then everything goes dark. 

“Tommy? Can you hear me?” 

“I think he’s coming to!” 

“Kinard, open those baby blues for us!” 

When Tommy blinks to consciousness, he feels like he’s been hit by a truck. 

“Nope, just crashed a helicopter,” an unfamiliar voice says. He sees the blur of a few hands reaching out to slap the man, and when he follows the arms, he thinks he must be dreaming. 

“Wilson? Han?” Tommy’s voice is almost hoarse and he wonders how terrified Taylor was of his warning screams—

Taylor. 

He jolts up as best as he can but Hen and Chimney hold him down before he can go too far. The pain that radiates through his chest knocks the breath out of him and he falls horizontal once more, clutching his stomach in pain. He breathes quickly and shallowly, as any attempts to fill his lungs result in sharp twinges of pain. Someone he doesn’t recognize—the voice from before—places an oxygen mask over his face. 

“She’s fine. Not a scratch on her,” the man soothes. Tommy likes the sound of his voice. He stops trying to escape his old teammates’ grasp and instead, angles his head back to connect eyes with the unknown man. 

He’s a boy, really. Looks at least a decade younger than Tommy, but that doesn’t stop the rush of attraction that seeps through him. The man’s hair is mussed up like someone has run their hands through it—Tommy wants to run his hands through it—and he’s wearing his turnout coat unbuttoned like the picture of casuality. Tommy’s not sure he’s ever seen someone wear the uniform with such confidence and such… sweetness. He’s squinting his eyes from the sun though Tommy still notices a few small pink patches surrounding his eyebrow that match the color of his unfairly kissable lips. 

“Yeah, he’s fine,” Hen decides. Tommy knows he’s been caught when he recognizes the sarcasm in her voice. Hen’s always been an observant one. He can practically hear her eyes roll as she makes quick introductions. “Tommy, this is Evan Buckley. Buck, Tommy Kinard.”

“From Air Ops,” Evan says eagerly. Tommy’s stomach flips at the acknowledgment. How has he never heard of Evan before? “What are you doing flying with Taylor Kelly?”

“Slumming it with Skywitness Traffic, Tommy? I can’t believe I saved your life for this,” Chimney teases. Tommy smacks him on his nearest body part and takes the oxygen mask off of his face. 

As if on instinct, Evan reaches to put it back, and their hands brush and linger. 

Tommy hates to be cliche, but they’re lucky the ambulance doesn’t blow up when the sparks fly through the flowing oxygen. Actually, being touched by Evan Buckley seems like a hell of a way to go…

“Was helping out an old army friend,” Tommy explains. “Can’t let L.A. fall subject to bad traffic patterns, can I?” 

Evan laughs, and Tommy’s stomach does a weird fluttering he hasn’t felt in ages. 

“Guess you regret that favor, huh?” Chimney jokes. 

“Not anymore,” Tommy mutters just loud enough for Evan to hear. 

Tommy makes sure to maintain eye contact and only barely stops himself from winking at the poor kid. He’s blushing like crazy, redness spreading up from underneath his high neckline and overtaking his adorable cheeks. From the stillness around them, Tommy doesn’t think this is usual behavior, and he can’t help but feel a little satisfied about that. He chances a glance at Hen and Chimney who are both staring at Evan like he’s lost his damn mind. It takes everything in Tommy not to giggle—both because of embarrassment and the fact he might actually pass out from pain if he does.

“So, what’s the verdict, Evan?” Tommy asks.

The adorable man blinks a few times before glancing up at Hen and Chimney, who Tommy is very aware are the ones with the answer to his question. Out of the corner of his eye, Tommy sees Hen gesturing for Evan to answer himself. 

“U-Um, I’m sure you feel ten-tenderness in your ribs so that’s… gotta be looked at.” Evan shakes his head like he’s all too aware of his stammering, but Tommy couldn’t be more smitten. “You lost consciousness so H-Hen—she checked for any issues with your eyes but nothing abnormal. How’s your head?” 

Without thinking, Tommy replies, “Would you like to find out?” 

There’s a chorus of: “Tommy!” “Get a room!” “Jesus Christ!” “Oh my god!” 

All of which are ignored by both of them. 

Instead, Evan tilts his head and smiles—it would’ve knocked Tommy off his feet if he were standing. 

“I think I just might,” Evan agrees. 

“Oh, you two are made for each other,” Hen turns toward Chimney, “how did we not see that?”

“Buck likes guys?!” Chimney says instead. Evan blushes even deeper and Tommy’s glad that he’s not on a heart monitor for all to see it skip a beat. “No, I’m done with this. To answer your question, Tommy, you may have an acute head injury and you definitely have some broken ribs. We’ve gotta get you to the hospital so if you’re done flirting…” 

“What if I’m not?” Tommy argues, just to rile Chimney up a little more. Tommy always enjoyed that—misses it, really. “What if I want to see Evan blush a little more?” 

“Oh my god,” Buck mumbles. He hides his face in his hands, but Tommy can still see the smile lines between the cracks in his fingers. “Hen, get him out of here.” 

“Got it, Buckaroo,” she agrees, shrugging at Tommy playfully. 

“I didn’t get your number!” Tommy shouts as best as he can with presumably broken ribs. He knows they’ll hurt a lot more the second he focuses on them, but how can he focus on anything but Evan? 

“118.” 

With that, Hen shuts the doors and Tommy sighs the happiest sigh he can muster. 

“Oh, he’s—” Tommy doesn’t even have the words, but Hen seems to understand.

“You’re in trou-ble, Kinard.” She clicks her tongue. 

And Tommy’s never been so excited by the prospect. 

(Chimney derails any further conversation with a line of consciousness that starts with, “Okay, since when do both Tommy and Buck like men?! How did I miss this?!”) 

#bucktommy #kinley #evan buckley #tommy kinard #911 on abc #bucktommyweekend #buck x tommy #tevan #i hate tagging that pls stop making me #911 #911 fic #bucktommy fic #my writing

[ihatealimore]

Lover, You Should've Come Over

(word count: 1.432) (angst, comfort)

Sitting alone in the dim room, Kurapika finds himself consumed by a painful wave of regret. His hands curl into fists at his sides, fingernails digging dents into his skin as he thinks about (Y/N). A beautiful woman with sharp eyes that saw right through him.

"I pushed her away," He mutters to himself, the extent of his actions weighing on him heavily, "I was so concerned about dragging her down with me... I didn't consider what it would do to her."

The memories of their past together begin to seep into his mind like venom spreading its poison throughout an unsuspecting body. Their laughter echoing through empty halls, the way she'd playfully tugged on a lock of his blonde hair whenever they sparred together. Each memory brings forth another flood of bitter sorrow that gnaws at the edges of Kurapika's already damaged heart.

"She deserved better," He whispers hoarsely against the icy silence that wraps around him, "And I... I couldn't give it to her."

The taste of regret is sour on his tongue, but nothing stings more than remembering how (Y/N) had looked at him when he walked away, pure understanding reflected in those knowing eyes. A silent acceptance that cut deeper than any blade.

"(Y/N)," Kurapika breathes out, the name slipping from his lips like a prayer. 

His gaze focuses on the empty space before him as if he could summon her back with just his longing.

"I'm sorry. I should've stayed," He murmurs quietly into the stillness of the room, shame lacing every word, "I miss you..."

A strained sigh escapes Kurapika's lips, his eyes dull and filled with sorrow, "If only I could see her again..." His voice trails off into a broken whisper, the words hanging stubbornly in the stagnant air surrounding him.

He would give anything to see those bright eyes again, to see her smiling at him so tenderly, to feel the warmth of her skin against his own. The pain plaguing him seems unending, spiraling deeper within his chest with every passing second.

His hand instinctively moves towards where he imagines (Y/N) might be sitting if she were here, an empty gesture aimed at filling a void he himself had created. He misses everything about her, her stubbornness, her recklessness...

But most importantly, how understanding she was, even when things didn't make sense.

"I'll do whatever it takes," Kurapika declares quietly as if making a vow to himself, "I just want another chance."

The blonde-haired man's hand hovers over his phone, a deep sigh leaving his lips. He contemplates calling her, the weight of his decision making his heart pound louder in his chest. His fingers itch to dial her number, a series of digits he had memorized by heart.

The screen glows softly in the dim room, casting an eerie light onto Kurapika's face as he scrolls through his contacts until (Y/N)'s name comes into view. Her contact picture is one they'd taken together during happier times, both of them smiling so brightly that their joy seems almost tangible.

His thumb hovers over her name for what feels like an eternity, every second amplifying the heavy silence encompassing him. The fear gripping at him feels strong and suffocating. What if she doesn't answer? Worse yet... What if she does?

"(Y/N)..." He says under his breath, steeling himself before finally pressing down on her contact information.

As he brings the phone up to his ear, Kurapika bites down hard on his lip. He can taste the metallic tang of blood dripping into his mouth but he barely registers it. All he can focus on is the rhythmic beating of a dial tone, a stark contrast to his erratic heartbeat.

His grip tightens around the device as every passing second becomes a harsh reminder of how much time had been wasted, how many words were left unsaid, and how many actions were done out of fear instead of love. His breath hitches when after several agonizing moments, her voicemail greeting plays.

But even just hearing her recorded voice gives him a brief sense of reprieve, grounding him back to reality from where regret and pain drag him deep within its clutches. It isn't enough though. He needs more than just echoes of her voice trapped in a digital recording.

Hearing the beep indicating it's time to leave a message, Kurapika takes in a deep breath before speaking. His voice quivers slightly, but he presses on, "(Y/N)... It's me, Kurapika."

He pauses for a moment, gathering his thoughts before continuing.

"I know I'm probably the last person you want to hear from right now but... I miss you."

The words taste bitter on his tongue, an admission of guilt and longing wrapped together.

There's another tension-filled pause before he finally lets out what had been gnawing at him all night long, "Please come over. I need to see you..."

With that final plea hanging heavily in between them, even if she isn't there physically, he ends the call. His phone drops back onto his lap as he leans back into his chair, letting out a sigh full of uncertainty and vulnerability.

She may not come... But at least now she knows how desperate he is without her.

After what felt like an eternity of waiting, Kurapika had begun to lose hope. The silence is deafening and doubt claws at his insides with a vengeance. He spends the passing hours aimlessly pacing around his apartment, trying to distract himself from constantly glancing towards his phone.

When he hears a subtle knock echo through the room, the Kurta freezes in place, heart pounding fiercely against his ribcage as he makes way to the door.

Dread and anticipation swirls within him as he gently pulls open the door, revealing (Y/N) standing there under dimly lit hallway lights, her silhouette creating shadows that dance across her features.

For a moment, it seems as if time itself has stopped, everything silent except for their shallow breaths mixing together in sync before he finally releases an audible sigh of relief.

"Kurapika?" Her voice is filled with surprise, and before she can utter another word, he has already thrown his arms around her. His grip is tight, a desperate hold born out of fear that if he lets go even slightly, she'll disappear.

He buries his face into the crook of her neck, every inch of him attempting to memorize her, the way she feels against him, the faint scent of her hair mixing with the outside air lingering on her clothes.

A shaky breath escapes him as he tries to gain control over his racing heart, albeit in vain, because now that she's here within his reach again... He doesn't want to let go.

"Kurapika?" She echoes and the sound of her voice, so close and filled with concern, causes something warm to bloom in his chest. As she returns his embrace and begins to rub soothing circles on his back, he feels a few of the knots in his stomach start to unravel.

"You sounded... Unwell in your voicemail. Are you okay?" Her words resound through him, genuine worry laced into each syllable.

"I..." He swallows hard as he draws back just enough to look at her, meeting those beautiful eyes that hold nothing but sincerity, "I've been better," It isn't a lie but it doesn't feel like the whole truth either.

"I can tell," She replies quietly.

He lets out another trembling breath before tightening his hold around her again, not ready yet to fully face what's been haunting him for so long without having her close.

For now, he wants to linger in her arms. Holding onto her as if she's his lifeline, Kurapika allows himself to sink deeper into her embrace, her comforting warmth seeping through the fabric of his clothes and into his cold existence.

He presses his face further into the crook of her neck, breathing in her scent deeply, "Just let me hold you for a bit longer," He murmurs against her flesh, hoping she'll understand just how much he needs this right now.

"Okay, I'm not going anywhere," She whispers against his ear, the softness of her voice flowing into him and further calming his anxious thoughts.

Kurapika's heart constricts at her promise, gratitude washing over him in waves. He tightens his hold on her further, as if conveying all the unspoken emotions through this one gesture.

He doesn't know how long they stood there in silence, time seeming to lose its grip on him as he simply allows himself to exist within this comforting bubble with her by his side... And for once, it feels okay to let down the walls around him even if it is just for a little while.

This feels like home to him, something he thought he had lost forever.

#hxh #hunter x hunter #hxh x reader #romance #hunter x hunter x reader #writing #kurapika #kurapika x reader #kurapika oneshot #idk if this is any good lol #tried to be poetic