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happy74827 · 3 days

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The Demon With A Heart

[Crowley x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: When Crowley saves your life, you can't help but think it was a little more than self-interest.

WC: 1858

Category: 99.9% Sexual Tension (lmfao), 0.01% Fluff + Angst? {TW: Mentions of Demons (obvi), Murder}

Crowley is too iconic not to have fics. I said what I said.

『••✎••』

You didn’t know how to react. It was as if your tongue was taken away, and you couldn’t talk, no matter how much you wanted to thank the man.

No, the demon.

You stood there with wide eyes, staring at the King of Hell, Crowley. He looked the same as before: a clean suit, a snarky comment, and a look of disgust on his face. But, instead of being on the opposite side, he was wiping the blood off of the angel blade he used to kill the angel that jumped you.

He just saved you—The King of Hell.

The very man who told Sam and Dean countless times that he doesn't do anything for free and doesn’t help people without getting something out of it. Yet, here he was, standing in front of you, not asking for a single thing.

The thought was a bit unsettling.

"Purely out of self-interest, darling," He says, breaking the silence and putting the stolen blade into his jacket. "Call it a favor that I plan to collect in the future."

He was about to leave, but you couldn’t let him go. Not without a thank you, at least. You didn't want him to think you didn’t appreciate what he did.

"Crowley."

The man turns back around, his hands in his pockets, his expression unreadable.

"Thank you"

The corner of his mouth turned upward, forming a small smirk. He didn’t say anything but rather kept his eyes on you for a second longer. He then disappeared, leaving you in the dark.

And it did leave you in the dark. For days, weeks, months. He never came for that favor, and he never brought up what happened. In fact, he barely talked to you at all. It was always towards the Winchesters.

You began to believe it was nothing but a dream. That Crowley somehow didn't save you. The angel was a fake, and this was all some sick joke. It felt like gaslighting.

But you knew what happened was real. You remembered the blood splatter and the dead corpse. The way his face contorted when he pierced the angel's heart.

It was all too real.

So, why was he ignoring you? Why did he pretend that it never happened? Was he going to hold it over your head? Or was it just the fact that the King of Hell did something nice for a human?

Was it because he… cared?

One night, you got your answer. It was a quiet night filled with books, tea, and soft music. At least, it was before those idiotic brothers decided to tear down the bunker in search of some book.

You couldn’t remember the exact reason they needed it, but you were too tired to argue. So, you stayed in your room and tried to fall asleep.

That is until the lights went out and the emergency lights kicked on. Okay, now you were annoyed. You got up, slipped on your shoes and a coat, and walked out of your room.

"Alright, what did you two-"

You paused mid-sentence, eyes falling onto the figure in the library. The man was facing the opposite way, but you knew exactly who it was. The familiar black suit and hair gave it away.

"Crowley…"

"Hello, Darling,” he replied, turning around and smiling at you. It was almost unnerving. He didn’t have a malicious aura or even an evil one. Just... a smile.

You looked behind him and noticed… well, nothing. You were expecting the Winchesters to be with him, and yet, it was just him.

"Where are the boys?"

"Moose and Squirrel? Ah, they're off somewhere, doing... well, you know. Something heroic, I suppose. Figured I’d stick around… enjoy the scenery."

That’s when you looked up and understood what he meant. He was stuck, quite literally. Those devil traps they put everywhere finally did something good.

You half-expected him to bring up that 'favor' he was talking about or maybe even just demand to get out of there, but he did neither. Instead, he looked at the ground and sighed.

At the moment, the King of Hell looked just like a caged puppy, sad and alone. If he wasn’t such a… demon, you might have even felt bad for him.

But, you left him in there, strolling along to the kitchen to find some kind of light. You were not giving up your two hours of reading due to power loss.

As you shuffled through the cabinets, looking for any form of match or lighter, the lights flickered back on.

So that’s where the Winchesters were.

You shrugged and turned back to your room but stopped at the entrance to the library. Crowley was still there, but this time, his face was twisted. He was clearly pissed.

"Why did you do it?" The burning question you wanted answered for months finally came out. Crowley stopped his little fit and turned towards you, a confused expression on his face.

He looked like he had no idea what you were talking about.

"I do a lot of things, Chipmunk. You'll have to be more specific."

You walked towards him, resting down the candles and book on a nearby table. You didn’t know why, but the need to confront him was growing.

"Save me all those months ago."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

You were getting closer, now only a few feet from him. Crowley, however, didn’t back away. Instead, he watched as you moved, his expression unchanging.

"That angel could’ve killed me, yet you came out of nowhere and stabbed him. I know you don't do anything out of kindness, so why did you do it? What do I offer that no one else does?"

Crowley stayed silent for a while, not giving any indication of answering your questions.

You thought it was just a lost cause until his expression changed. It was subtle, but you caught it. The corner of his mouth turned down, and his eyes widened, then narrowed.

He almost looked ashamed.

"It's just like I said. Self-interest." He spat out, his voice sounding like venom. You almost took a step back. It still sounded like the same old Crowley, but his tone was different.

You decided to call his bluff.

"I don't believe you."

Crowley raised an eyebrow, a smirk coming across his face. He was amused by the sudden attitude, but it didn’t last long.

"And what makes you say that?"

"I saw the way you looked at me after you saved me. Hesitancy, almost. Like you were unsure. As if..."

The King of Hell stared at you, waiting for the last part of your statement. He was eager but not for the answer. No, he knew what you were going to say.

He was just waiting to hear it come out of your mouth.

"You care."

Those words hung in the air, both of you processing it. Crowley continued to stare at you, the smirk disappearing, leaving his face neutral. He had a blank expression.

A silence grew, the atmosphere turning awkward. It wasn't until the demon let out a loud sigh and looked to the side that it was broken.

"You’re really pulling on the heartstrings, Chipmunk,” he muttered, a hint of sarcasm in his voice. "If I had one, I'd say it was aching."

"Do you?"

You knew what you were implying. Crowley was the King of Hell, the ruler of the damned. He was the furthest thing from human, yet he could walk among them and, sometimes, be mistaken for one.

Was it possible for him to be human or even have emotions?

Crowley looked at you and frowned, clearly not liking the topic. But he didn't deny it. It was a strange sight—the King of Hell, frowning and silent.

It was almost adorable.

"I'm not asking for anything. I just… want an honest answer."

"Well, I am a demon, love,” He stated, his tone changing to a more playful one. “Honesty isn’t quite in the job description."

"Crowley"

You were starting to get impatient, and it showed. Your voice was firm, and your posture was tense. You wanted an answer, and you were determined to get it.

The demon in question let out another sigh and looked at the ceiling as if praying for a quick escape.

"You're a pain, you know that? It's exhausting." He grumbled, rolling his eyes. "But, I suppose, since you asked nicely..."

The man looked at you, his lips pursed. He was still hesitating, which only made you more curious.

"Yes, I care. About you. Happy?"

You blinked a few times, processing the information. Did the King of Hell, the person known for not giving a shit, just admit he cares?

"I-" You started, not knowing what to say. It was a surprise but not an unwelcome one. Crowley wasn't exactly a bad guy, well, a demon.

"Do you actually mean that?"

"Now that…" Crowley started, his voice low and deep. He leaned towards you, making you back up, but the wall soon prevented you from going any further.

He was inches away, his breath hitting your face. You could see his eyes staring into yours—a pretty brown, like a mocha latte.

"…Is the kind of question that will get you in trouble, love."

You weren’t sure what he was planning, but you didn't care. The way his eyes were looking at you, the smirk on his face, the closeness...

He was probably expecting you to back away, but he was wrong. You were an avid reader, obsessive even. This scene wasn't new, nor was it shocking.

The only shocking part was the fact that you were the one in it. And, well, the fact that you didn’t mind it.

"Unlike you,” you whispered, a small smirk on your face. "I don’t care."

Your response made him pause for a moment, squinting his eyes and giving you a confused look. It only lasted a few seconds, though. Soon, he understood, and a chuckle escaped his lips.

"Touché"

You truly believed you were about to lose your chance with the man upstairs, but loud footsteps interrupted you.

"Crowley, you slimy son of a bitch! If you’re not here, we are going to-"

Dean stopped talking as he rounded the corner, seeing you and Crowley close. His expression was shocked, almost comical.

"The hell is going on here?"

You and Crowley both turned to look at Dean, a look of annoyance on the King of Hell's face. Sam came around the corner as well, sharing the same look of confusion.

Crowley gave you one last glance, a bit of disappointment in his eyes, before taking a step back. His attention moved on to the two hunters, his usual smile returning.

And despite the annoyance in the air and the confusion, the only thing that came across your mind was another question that you were sure would take control of your sleep schedule once again.

"Hello, boys," He purred, his arms moving to his side. He was back to his old self, not showing a single sign of what happened moments ago.

Had the beauty thawed the beast?

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mostly-imagines · 6 days

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Guard Dog vol. II

jason todd x fem!reader

aka don’t fuck with jason’s gf pt. II

3 in 1 blurbs

warnings: mild standard gotham violence, in the 3rd section: attempted sexual assault and panicky thoughts afterwards from reader

“Sweetheart, this is…not good.”

You turn your head over to him, where he’s frowning, hands on his hips as he inspects your bedroom window.

You tilt your head, looking it over from your place on the couch. “What’s wrong with it?”

He sighs, “Well for one, the lock is broken. But even if it weren’t, this thing would be so easy to break.”

“It’s the lock the place came with.” You shrug. At least it has a lock. In Gotham that’s kind of asking a lot.

“Yeah, I can tell.” He frowns at the window once again, moving over to stand behind the couch. “I’m getting you better locks.” He looks to you, “I can install them tomorrow?”

You tilt your head up to look at him, “You don’t need to get me new locks, Jay…”

“Okay.” He kisses your head, “I’m getting them.”

You sigh in defeat, though your smile makes it lose its credibility. “Tomorrow’s fine. I assume you’re staying the night, then?”

He makes his way to the kitchen as he says, “Well, I’m not leaving you alone here with this piece of shit the only thing between you and Gotham.”

“I’ve lived here for two years.” You say flatly.

“Don’t remind me.” He mumbles as he moves behind the counter. “Actually, your door chain’s broken too, isn’t it?” It is, but that’s his own fault.

You had a long day a couple weeks ago and had a very long, very hot shower the second you got home. Unfortunately, it had slipped your mind to text him that you were home safe and he’d broken through the chain in one try to make sure you were okay.

You hum, “It wasn’t doing much anyways.” Clearly.

He grimaces as he heats up the stove for dinner.

You laugh lightly, “What?”

He looks back at you with a frankly adorable frown, “I don’t like that.”

You’d never thought much of it. You hadn’t had any—well, many—problems living here before, and you still had your deadbolt and handle lock.

“It’s okay. I’m safe here.”

He looks like he strongly disagrees. He comes back over, sitting next to you, taking your face in his hands. “Will you please let me set up some security measures around here?”

“Did Jason Todd just say please?” You say in faux-shock.

He rolls his eyes at you, “I’m serious.”

You sigh, contemplatively. “I don’t want my apartment looking like the Home Alone set.”

He laughs at that, “It’s not going to. You won’t even notice most of them. Just do it for me, please?”

“I’ll agree, but only because I know you’re going to do it anyways and I’d like to pretend I have control over this.” That’s not true, you’d agree to literally anything if he said please that sweetly again, but that’s your business.

“Fair enough.” He smiles, kissing your cheek.

No, it’s not fair at all.

It’s late. You’re not even sure how late but the city has calmed from its usual noises, indicating that your boyfriend will be home soon.

You’re coming up heavy on cramps tonight and according to the mockingly empty spot in your medicine cabinet, you’re out of ibuprofen. Yeah, it’s late, but the store on the corner is a three minute walk and fuck your stomach hurts. Jason wouldn’t like it if you went out without telling him though, so maybe you should wait until—

The sound of the living room window sliding open breaks you away from your thoughts, followed by a clatter of something hitting the ground.

You walk back into the dimly lit room, finding your boyfriend sliding the window shut again, holsters abandoned on the ground. He turns and collapses onto the couch face first, body immediately gone limp.

“Hey, baby.” You bite back a laugh, coming over to rub his muscled back from behind the couch. He groans into the cushion in response. “Why don’t you go get in bed?”

He hums almost imperceptibly, sitting up and rubbing his eyes roughly with his palms.

He stands and takes your hand in his as he passes by, tugging you towards the bedroom. The deep ache in your abdomen reminds you of your earlier train of thought. You pull your hand back, stopping in your tracks.

He turns back to you with a frown, wanting to know what could possibly be getting in his way of falling asleep, holding you close.

“I gotta go pick up some ibuprofen. I’ll be right back.” You say quietly, not wanting to disturb the quietness of the night for him. His frown deepens as you head towards the door, watching you.

You’ve got your purse in hand and are reaching for the handle when you hear his footsteps following in suit. “Hey, it’s okay. Stay here, I’m just going to the 24 hour store on the corner.”

He shakes his head, “You’re not going out in Gotham alone at two in the morning. Put your coat on, it’s cold.”

You do as you’re told, shrugging the coat on as you glance over at him. “Jason, it’s okay. You’re exhausted, go to sleep.”

He ignores you, throwing a sweatshirt on to cover up his armor, and follows you out the door; albeit far more sluggish than usual.

He was right though, the night air is bitter and slaps your face with every step forward you take. He lingers a few steps behind you, honest to god almost falling asleep mid step a couple times.

Frankly, you’re not even sure what kind of fight he’d be able to put up in this state. Though, he’s surprised you plenty of times before. In any case, his head snaps up every time there’s any sign of movement around, instantly on alert.

He trails behind you as you browse through the narrow aisles, hands stuffed in his sweatshirt.

As you’re standing at the store counter paying, his neck is craned forward, resting on your shoulder. You rub soothing circles into his hand with your thumb, though you’re sure it’s not doing anything to help his exhaustion.

You’re walking back home, the bite of the air a bit more forgiving in this direction. There’s another man walking down the sidewalk approaching, hands in pocket.

Jason’s too tired to bother with subtlety, glaring directly at the passerby before he could even think of trying anything. And it works, because the guy averts his gaze real quick and speeds up past you.

He continues working at his post from just behind you all the way until you’re back inside your apartment.

He takes the medicine container out of his pocket and cracks it open for you, wordlessly filling up a glass of water after. You gulp down a couple of the pills, and he takes the glass and bottle out of your hand the second you’re done, setting them on the counter.

He turns to you, eyes barely open, mumbling, “Can we sleep now?”

You smile at his fatigued state and take his hand, leading him to the bedroom.

Your neighbor likes you. You know it, Jason knows it.

The worst he’d done was flirt with you, badly, and shut his mouth real quick whenever your boyfriend emerged from your apartment.

And Jason let that go; he knows better than anybody that you’re heavenly and sweet and clever, of course this fucking guy likes you. Jason set an unspoken rule with himself, that he won’t get violent with any guys unless they put their hands on you. Something he knows for absolute fact your neighbor has not done.

At least he hadn’t until a couple of hours ago. You’d been in the hallway at the mailslots, your boyfriend nowhere in sight, when he decided it was the perfect time to make a move. Make several moves, actually.

You’re sitting on the couch, knees to chest, still trying to wrap your mind wround what had happened when Jason sees you. You stopped crying a while ago and you’ve entered the phase of…well. That happened.

Your hear keys jingling outside the door, followed by your boyfriend's entrance. He’s carrying some grocery bags and has a book tucked under his chin.

He lets the bags slide off his arms, and sets the book on the counter with them, beaming, “You’re never gonna guess what b—“ His smile drops when he sees you. “What’s wrong?”

You shake your head, “Nothing.” But your blinking feels off all of a sudden, and you can’t remember what you usually do with your face when you’re not lying. It doesn’t matter though, you could be an academy award winning actress and you’re still sure Jason would be able to see right through you with a single glance.

He frowns, “Don’t lie to me.” He moves towards you, kneeling down in front of you. “Please. What’s wrong?” His eyes are pleading now, already worried.

You don’t want him to worry about this. He already worries about you too much and he’s got all his vigilante stuff and…you just want to believe that this is a manageable situation and not a problem. Not something that affected you.

“It’s just…it’s not a big deal, okay? I can handle it—”

His posture stiffens and his voice suddenly goes low and serious, “What happened?”

You know where this is going. “Jason. Promise me you won’t do anything.”

His brow furrows, and his frown turns to something closer to anger. “Did someone put their hands on you? Who?”

“Jason—”

“Who did it?”

“The neighbor, b—” he immediately snaps to a stand and starts towards the door. You hurry to grab onto his hand before he can escape your proximity, “Jason. Please don’t.”

The break in your voice is enough to make his rage falter and turn back around to face you.

“Baby, if he touched you—” His eyes are pleading, begging you to let him go take care of this. If not for you, then for him.

“It wasn’t—he didn’t do anything. He didn’t get to. I hit him and he backed off.” Which is…sort of true.

He stares at you. “In the hallway?”

You blink. “…Yeah?”

He takes off towards the bedroom wordlessly. You follow quickly on his tail, watching him sit on the edge of your bed, opening his computer and clicking through it quickly.

You slide over next to him, and see that he's pulling up a file under the name of your building and today’s date. It takes you two seconds too long to realize what he’s doing, the thought only sinking in right as you see the hallway security camera footage on the screen.

“Jason—” you try to close the computer but he bats your hand away.

He forwards through the footage, as you scramble trying and failing to reach past him, various building occupants coming in and out of frame rapidly.

“—please just listen to me.” But he did listen to you, and he heard that someone tried to hurt you. That was all he needed to hear.

He stops when he sees you enter the frame, watching closely. He sees you flipping through the mail. He sees your neighbor slither out of his apartment and stand far too close to you. You take a step back only to be met with two steps forward by him. He says something to you, probably asking where your boyfriend is.

The angle doesn’t show his face, but it does see yours, and you look incredibly uncomfortable. You don’t answer him, which evidently was enough of an answer in itself.

Your neighbor tries to brush some of your hair out of your face but you snap your head away, stumbling back a little. He uses your lack of balance as an “excuse” to grab onto your waist, pulling you close to him.

Your hands are out in front of you and you’re shaking your head as he pushes towards you. His lips land on your neck and you try to move backwards, but he grabs your wrists and holds you in place.

You fight against his grip, and upon realizing that your struggling doesn’t matter to him at all, you dig your nails into his wrists so hard you draw blood. He groans in pain and his grip on you loosens.

You snap your hands away and push yourself away, locking yourself in your apartment. Your neighbor lingers for a moment, shouting something at the door before trudging back into his apartment and slamming the door.

Jason snaps the laptop shut, coming to a stand once again. His fists clinch at his sides. “That was not nothing.”

No, it wasn’t. But you feel so helpless right now. You sure as hell felt it in the hallway, and it keeps lingering in you and you’re not sure why. You couldn’t do anything then, you can’t do anything now…it feels like all the bad things in the world are closing in on you and you just have to let it happen.

“I…I don’t want anyone to die because of me…” your words aren’t quite matching your thoughts, but this is the closest you can get right now.

He pulls back to look at you, brows furrowed. “It’s—it’s not because of you. It’s because of him. Baby, if I were on patrol and saw him grab some other girl like that I’d do the same thing.”

You know that. You know that. But communication seems impossible right now even though it’s the only tool you have to stop things from closing in.

“No, I know that. I know…it’s just…” Things are closing in anyways. Alright, this is happening now. Your eyes start watering and your voice trembles.

“Fuck, baby.” His hand flies to the back of your head, other arm wrapping around your middle, pulling you to him.

You feel a bit silly, crying over the potential death of someone who tried to hurt you, in front of the Red Hood of all people.

“I’m sorry, I—I don’t know. It’s—it’s too many bad things. I can’t…”

“Okay. Okay. It’s okay. I’ll stay here. I’m staying here with you, okay?” You nod into his chest, tears dampening his shirt.

This is a temporary solution, you know that even now. But you think once it expires, it might be easier to accept whatever Jason’s going to do later.

He’s quiet for a few minutes, holding you in his arms as you sway back and forth lightly.

“Will you forgive me if I kill him?” He whispers into your hair.

You roll your eyes but smile nonetheless. “Don’t.”

“Is that a yes?”

You pull back to look him in the eyes, face setting. “I’m getting the feeling you’re going to do something regardless of how this conversation ends.” He says nothing. “Just, please, don’t kill him.”

He holds you tighter and you do the same, laying your head against his chest again. You feel him press a kiss to your head as he takes a deep breath.

You think on it for a moment, figuring it needs saying, “And don’t get in trouble.”

Your neighbor comes home late that night, trudging through the front door with a perpetual frown. He opens the door to his notably unlocked apartment. He drops his bag on the ground with a thump and flicks on the lamp next to the door. He shuts the door and turns the lock when the red elephant in the room pipes up.

“Hey, bud.”

He jumps, spinning around, “Who the fuck—oh, shit.” He freezes the second he sees him, sitting in the armchair across the room. The Red Hood nods, loading the gun in his hand.

Your neighbor stutters, “What—what are you doing here?”

He looks up at him, cocking the gun. “You put your hands on your neighbor, yeah?”

He looks fake-shocked at the accusation. “What? No, I would ne—which neighbor?”

He can’t see it, but Hood’s face drops into a deadpan. “That is really not helping your case.”

Your neighbor eyes the gun nervously.

Hood sighs, “I’m not going to kill you. I’ve been told it’s bad manners to execute someone the first time you meet.” He glances down the nail marks on his arm and steals his jaw. “No. What’s going to happen is you’re going to break your lease and move out. Within the next week.”

The neighbors eyes widen, “A week? Are you insane?”

Hood tilts his head a bit before shaking it, “Nah, you’re right. By tomorrow night.”

“This is my apartment. I live here, I’m not going anywhere. And unless you’re secretly Saul the landlord under there, you can’t do anything about it.” He crosses his arms, clearly feeling very proud of himself. Well, killing him isn’t the only option, is it?

“Yeah, I thought you’d say that.” Hood clocks him hard on the head with the frame of his gun. He goes down quickly and loudly, clutching his head, groaning. “The alternative is getting beaten half to death and hoping whatever hospital you end up at knows what they’re doing.”

Honestly, neighbor boy is pressing his luck as is. Maybe it was a bad idea for Jason to bring the gun.

“Fuck! Fine! I’ll go!” He wails.

Hood kicks his abdomen with the side of his boot, though not nearly as hard as he wanted to. “Shut up. You’ll disturb the neighbors.”

The neighbor groans again, quieter. He mumbles something about Hood being crazy but it gets lost under the grunts of pain.

Hood crouches down next to him, patting him on the head with the barrel of his gun. “Don’t worry, bud. I’ll check up on you. And if I ever see you so much as look in the general direction of another girl I’ll put a bullet in your head. Sound good?”

Your former neighbor drops his head to the ground, hand still clutching the growing swell on his forehead.

#these are all wildly different lengths my b #jason todd loves his gf #jason todd the doberman #jason todd x reader #jason todd imagine #jason todd x you #jason todd/you #jason todd/reader #jason todd fanfic #jason todd fanfiction #red hood x you #red hood imagine #red hood x reader #red hood fanfic #red hood fanfiction

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moonstruckme · 6 months

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hey! I really really really like your writing very much!

can you do one where the reader and spencer reid are both nerds but different kinds of nerds. so the reader's more of a literature/ language nerd and spencer's basically an expert in LITERALLY everything. so she has a major crush on him but always hesitates to make a move on him cuz she thinks that she doesn't stand a chance because she struggles with basic math and physics chemistry make her head hurt

and so when spencer asks her out she's all baffled like you don't think I'm dumb?!😭😭

Hi, thanks honey!

Spencer Reid x fem!reader ♡ 1.3k words

It’s one of those rare days where you can actually afford a lunch break, and you’ve decided to take it outside with your book. Every day lately feels like it could be the last nice one you get before the cold weather comes in, and you’re enjoying the crisp breeze and warm sunshine on your face as you get settled on the bench outside the cafe where you work.

The book you’ve been reading for the past week is good but not great, and you’re sort of pushing yourself to finish just so you can say it’s over with and tell the friend who lent it that you gave it your best. Still, you’re very nearly lost in it by the time a pair of black converse comes to a stop in front of you.

You follow them upward. “Spencer!” you say, probably with a touch too much alacrity. Too quickly, too. You might’ve at least pretended to have to think about the name of the sweet-faced doctor looking down at you. But it’s not your fault; you’ve gotten used to calling it out from the counter when he comes here to pick up his lunch at least three days out of the week.

“Hi,” he says, teetering on the edge of bashful. “I’m surprised to see you out here, you’re almost always working when I come by.”

It’s embarrassingly gratifying that he knows that. You’d never hold it against him if he didn’t, but you’ve come to enjoy the little bits of conversation you grab with him when he comes by, and it’s nice to know that he’s noticed you too.

“It’s a slow day,” you reply by way of explanation. “I figured I’d grab a break while I still could.”

Spencer smiles like he totally gets that. You imagine he does. “Good idea. Can I sit?”

“Of course!” Again, way too eager. You’ve got to work on controlling your tone around him. You move your discarded jacket into your lap.

“Thanks,” he says, sitting in the space you’ve made for him. His legs are so long he looks like he’s squatting on the bench, knees high enough for him to set his elbows on. Which he does, tilting his head to see you. “What’re you reading?”

“Oh, um, it’s nothing. I mean, I wouldn’t really recommend it,” you laugh. Christ, you don’t want him to know what you’re reading. Spencer probably reads astrophysics textbooks for fun. “It’s not very good.”

Spencer puts his hand over yours, far from forceful as he tips the page toward him until he can see the cover. Your brain is short-circuiting so badly it’s a wonder you don’t drop the paperback onto the pavement.

“I haven’t heard of it,” he says, which surprises you. Spencer seems so knowledgeable it’s difficult to believe there’s anything in existence that’s not stored somewhere in his hard drive. “Why are you reading it if you don’t think it’s good?”

He doesn’t ask it in any unkind or judgemental way, but something inside you tenses nonetheless. You know perhaps too much about Spencer Reid. It’s not like you’d gone out of your way to figure him out, but the facts had presented themselves to you almost serendipitously and you’d put the pieces together. You know that he’s in the FBI, not only because of the laminated identifier he sometimes leaves clipped to his shirtpocket when he comes in, but also because of the coworkers that occasionally come with him. From those coworkers, you also know that he’s a doctor, and you gather that he’s generally respected and admired as well as cared for by his team. He seems a bit awkward, but sure of himself where it matters, and he goes into every interaction with a kind curiosity. Most of all, you know that Spencer is smart. Like, expert in everything smart. You’d caught a few jokes from the people he’s brought in about an eidetic memory, his multiple PhDs, and the nickname “boy genius.” No matter how shy and sweet someone is, that’s intimidating.

And it’s unnerving to have someone with an IQ higher than you can probably fathom asking about your intellectual habits.

“Well, the plot doesn’t actually have much movement, so it’s pretty boring,” you say hesitantly. “I guess at this point I’m mostly in it for the prose. Plus my friend recommended it, so I have to finish it to keep her happy.”

Spencer laughs at your little joke, nodding. “Wow, the prose alone is enough to keep you going? It must be pretty fascinating.”

You want to backpedal immediately, but settle for a one-shouldered shrug. “It’s alright. I’m kind of a nerd for that stuff. Rhetorical devices and all.”

Spencer tilts his head, something igniting in his brown eyes. Interest. “Rhetorical devices. You mean like metaphor and personification?”

You nod. “Yeah, like those, but also anadiplosis and polysyndeton and anastrophe.” Spencer’s eyebrows move slowly upward as you speak, and you feel heat rising to your cheeks despite the slight chill. “I just like that there’s things that affect the emotion—or the pacing, or whatever—of writing that we as readers pick up on almost subconsciously, but were so intentional for the writer.”

Spencer’s nodding, eyes going somewhere just slightly distant. “Yeah, that’s a good point. I mean, I know writing is a very intentional process, but I never really think about the tiny, word-level decisions authors make to influence readers.”

“It’s so cool,” you agree. “Like, how long do you think it takes someone to land on the exact right word for what they’re trying to convey, or to structure their sentences in a way that builds momentum over the course of a paragraph? Like, so much goes into it.”

Spencer’s smiling at you, and you realize you’re gushing, geeky zeal bursting out of you like a soda bottle that’s been shaken and finally uncapped. “Sorry. Um, what’re you reading lately?”

“Don’t be sorry,” he says quickly, still smiling at you. “I actually just finished my last book, so I’m looking for something new. If this book has all that and isn’t up to your standards, I’d be interested to see what you really enjoy reading.”

Your cheeks are burning hot; you hope Spencer thinks the redness is from the cool breeze. “I’d be nervous to give you a recommendation,” you admit. “Too much pressure.”

Spencer waves you off. “I’ll read anything, don’t worry about it. Hey, have you ever been to that coffee shop on fifth? It’s in a bookstore.”

You blink. “No, I haven’t heard of it. That sounds cool, though.”

A bit of pink tinges Spencer’s cheeks; it’s probably from the cool breeze. “Yeah, well, you should let me take you there sometime. If you want, of course,” he adds hastily. “Don’t worry about it if not.”

It takes you a second to realize what’s happening. And then once you do, another second to make yourself believe it. “Like, as a date?” you ask, just to be sure.

Spencer’s smile is hopeful behind its timidity. “Yeah. Yeah, if you’re okay with that.”

“Yeah.” You can’t think of anything better to say, your brain filling with buzzing bees. “That sounds good. Thanks.”

He laughs, eyebrows coming together bemusedly. “Well, don’t thank me. I should be thanking you.”

It’s more a thanks for his taking action, you think. For making a move when you’d been too scared to, stagnant with months over your anxiety that he’d think you were too dumb or trivial to want to keep talking to you after he’d picked up his sandwich.

“Okay, great.” He stands. “Well, I have to get back, but I’ll, uh…I’ll see you? Friday, maybe? I can come by here after your shift.”

“You know when my shift ends?”

Now even his ears are turning red. “You…around four, right? I sometimes see you if I’m leaving work around then.”

You smile. “Yeah, four. See you then, Dr. Reid.”

“See you then!” he turns around, and you can see the exact moment he thinks to wonder how you know his last name. You don’t bother worrying about it.

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alotofpockets · 2 months

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Regret | Alexia Putellas x Reader & Leah Williamson x Best Friend!Reader

Summary: Where Alexia regrets breaking up with you.

A/n: happiest of birthdays to @greynatomy 💗 Also pretend that everything in italics is actually said in spanish :)

Woso masterlist | Words: 2.8k

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You checked your phone when you got back to the locker room after practice. The name you were hoping to see wasn’t among your notifications, so you dropped it back in your pocket with a sombre look. Leah noticed the action she had repeatedly seen over the past couple of days, and decided that she had waited long enough to not ask questions. “Movie night at my place tonight.” By the way she didn’t say it in the form of a question, you knew there was no getting out of this. “Fine, but you’re ordering pizza.” Leah smiled, having achieved what she wanted, “You know I would never say no to pizza.”

That’s how you found yourself in front of the apartment you knew all too well. When you moved from Barcelona to England just six months ago, Leah had taken you in for the first few weeks, until you found a place in London. Your national teammate Laia had offered as well, but as much as you loved her you took the bed offered by Leah over the offer of her couch. Which ended up being a great decision because you and Leah got close right away, and you would call her one of your best friends currently. You check your phone once more, hoping for that one name to show up, but it wasn’t there so you used the spare key to let yourself into Leah’s place.

“I’ll be out in a minute.” Leah yelled out from her bedroom. You quickly put a fake smile on your face when you heard her walking towards you. Leah pretended to not notice for now, and greeted you like nothing happened. She hoped that in the comfort of a one on one hang out you would open up to her on your own, but when you were half way through the movie, and you still hadn’t said anything, she decided that she had given you enough time to come to her. So, the next time your phone buzzed, and your face fell without opening the notification, she paused the movie. “Okay, what’s going on?” You look anywhere but at her, “Nothing is going on Lee, let’s just watch the movie.”

However, Leah wasn’t going to move on so quickly. “You keep checking your phone, and then looking disappointed, and don’t tell me I’m wrong because I’ve been noticing it all week. Please just tell me what’s going on. Is it Ale?” Your eyes snapped up at the mention of your girlfriend’s name. The broken look behind them said enough for Leah to know that it had everything to do with Alexia. “What did she do? Do I need to fly to Barca to knock some sense into her?” You sigh in frustration, “It isn’t exactly what she did, it’s what she hasn’t done.” Leah was ready to listen and nodded for you to continue. “So, she’s barely spoken to me all week. No video calls, or regular calls, just a couple texts here and there. I keep trying to have a normal conversation with her, and I just get short answers. I’ve asked if she’s okay, and she just keeps saying that everything is fine.” Tears well in your eyes. “It’s not fine though. It can’t be fine, if she’s literally shutting me out.”

Your phone lights up in the middle of your conversation, and both of you stare at the message that popped up on your screen.

Alexia: Can we talk?

The dreaded message that you were expecting to receive in the back of your mind. Though you didn’t know the extent of the talk she wanted to have, you knew it couldn’t mean something good after this week. “Are you okay?” Leah put her hand on your knee. “No I’m not, but let’s just get this call over with.” She nodded in understanding, with a squeeze of your knee she got up. “I’ll be in my room if you need anything.”

Y/n: Sure, call me

In the back of your mind you knew exactly what this conversation was going to result in, Alexia had been pulling away from you, so there was only one logical outcome of this call for you. You picked up the video call, “Hey.” You left out all nicknames, not wanting to put in unnecessary effort, plus it’s not like she said 'hi' before asking you if you could talk. “Hi y/n, oh you’re not home, we can just talk later.” It felt like a stab in your chest, hearing her use your first name. With a shake of your head you say, “It’s fine, let’s just get this over with, Ale.”

Alexia started shuffling around nervously. “I’m sorry to do this over a call, but I think we need to break up.” There it was, the words you had seen coming, but still hurt more than you could have imagined. You stared blankly at your screen, not really knowing what to say. Alexia understood, and continued talking. “It’s just been hard on me to do this whole distance thing. There’s a lot going on, and I just need you here by my side. I know I can’t ask you to move back, because you deserve to play at your dream club. So, I think that what’s best for me right now is for us to let each other go.” Tears were now rolling down your cheeks. “Why is the first I’m hearing of this while you’re breaking up with me? I thought communication was so important to you. How long have you been feeling this way?” There was an anger to your tone that made Alexia not be able to keep eye contact. “I didn’t come to this decision rashly, if that’s what you’re asking.” You blink away the tears, your sadness making room for anger. “How long, Alexia?” You stared at her angrily until you got an answer. “About a month.”

“You are unbelievable. How could you just not say anything? You literally didn’t even give us a fighting chance.” The tears were back. “I’m sorry.” Alexia said softly. “Save your sorrys, they’re not going to fix this.” She nodded, “I know.” You close your eyes, “I guess this is it then.” With a defeated sigh you open your eyes again. “I’m really sorry.” You roll your eyes, “Save it. I’m going to hang up now, I need some space.” With a shaking finger you pressed the end call button without giving Alexia a chance to respond.

After giving yourself a minute you make your way over to Leah’s room, which you enter after a soft knock. You found her sitting with her headphones on, even though she didn’t understand Spanish, she still wanted to give you your space, which you appreciated. Leah didn’t need to hear you say the words, she could read on your face that it was exactly what you had been thinking. “Oh love, come here.” She patted the bed and opened her arms. You laid down without a second thought, and let her hold you tight. In the comfort of her arms, your tears flowed freely.

You stayed the night at Leah’s, you didn’t have to ask, and she didn’t have to offer, it just was. Leah had fallen asleep a while ago. You were glad that you weren’t ruining her sleep as well, because you had an early wake up call for a match in the morning. Your mind kept running circles. Three years down the drain like it was nothing, how could she just break-up with you without ever voicing her troubles?

At some point you must’ve fallen asleep though, because Leah gently shook you awake. “Hey, I’ve got breakfast ready.” You send her a questioning look, Leah didn’t cook. “Okay fine, you’ve got me. Lia picked up breakfast on the way over.” With a small smile you get up and follow her to the kitchen. By the way Lia held you just a little longer in the hug, you knew that Leah had told her. “Stop it Wally, you're going to make me cry.” You didn't mind Leah telling her, cause it meant that it would be one less person you would have to tell yourself. “Thank you for the food, but I'm not really hungry.” Lia nodded, “Okay, I'll just pack some of it up for you then, you're gonna have to eat something before the match.” You knew she was right, so you let her pack up some food, and add it to your backpack, while you slumped down on the couch.

Lia and Leah were talking in the kitchen, while you were staring at the living room ceiling. Your phone dings with a new message, and out of habit you check it right away. The name you so desperately wanted to see pop up all week, now made your stomach turn, and your heart clench.

Alexia: I'm really sorry, I never meant to hurt you.

You threw your phone in frustration, the device landing on the floor with a loud tud, making Leah enter the room right away. “What's wrong?” Leah picks up the phone and checks if it's okay in the process. “Fucking Alexia clearly doesn't understand what needing space means.” Leah rolled her eyes, “She never learned to listen, did she?” In the short time that Leah had known you, she had heard you complain about the little communication things Alexia lacked to improve on many times.

Lia entered the living room, “Sorry to interrupt, but we need to head out or we're going to miss the bus.” You grab your back and head to the front door, without a care for your phone, so Leah pockets it in case you would want it later. Lia headed to the driver's seat, and you took the back, letting Leah sit in front with Lia. You were down, and did not want to pull either one of them down with you, especially not before a match.

You arrived at London Colney for a final pre-match meeting to go over the tactics. Usually, once you arrived you mingled with your teammates, but now you stuck to Leah's side like a lost puppy. Arsenal had taken you in as a part of their own right from the start, you loved the family vibe the team had, and often found yourself amongst the jokers in the group. Today however when a hyper looking Kyra and Beth made their way over, you didn't budge when they tried to pull you away. “What’s up with you, party pooper?” Beth asks with a furrowed brow. “Ale broke up with me, are you happy now?” You snapped at the striker, loud enough for the rest of the team to hear. With widened eyes you apologise to Beth, before you walk out of the room, not being able to handle all your teammates staring at you with pity. Beth wanted to follow you to apologise, but Leah stopped her. “It’s okay, just let her be for a moment.”

After a few minutes you entered the room again, so the meeting could start. “I’m sorry.” Beth whispers, as you sit down next to her. You lean your head on her shoulder, “No, I’m sorry.” She wrapped her arm around you for the duration of the meeting, hoping to offer some comfort.

On the bus towards the stadium you were playing at today you sat by yourself in the front row, while the rest of the team sat together in the back, still needing a bit of space. Once the bus started driving, Leah walked up to the front. “I’m fine, Lee.” You said before even letting her say anything. “I know you are, just thought you would like these for the drive.” She handed you her headphones and her phone. “Thank you.” You appreciated her and her thoughtfulness, having her phone to play music would mean no messages from Alexia popping up.

Your anger towards Alexia showed in your playing style that match, you were more aggressive, and sliding in any time you could. At one point Leah had to tell you to take it easy, but you managed to get away without any cards, and the team won the match.

The next few weeks you had to get over Alexia. You didn’t want to live in the bubble of sadness that the breakup had created around you. It helped not being in the same country as her, not being able to just walk into her, and also your surroundings not having her written all over them. You spend a lot of your time with your Arsenal teammates, weekly bonding nights with the whole team, and random outings with one group or another.

When international break was around the corner, you felt confident in saying you were mostly over Alexia. Sure, some things still hurt you, but in your mind you could still be affected by something even though you were over your ex.

Laia was sitting next to you at the airport gate when the rooming schedule was shared in the group, you scanned for your name, and realised they had kept you with Alexia just like last camp. Laia must’ve seen it too, because without having to mention anything, she told you she would get it sorted. She got her roommate to switch with you, so you would room with Laia for this camp.

When you arrived at the Spanish training grounds, you were happy to see your teammates again, but seeing Alexia amongst them was definitely a mood crusher. You tried to push those thoughts to the back of your mind, and just ignore and avoid her, so you would be able to enjoy the time with your friends. You were mostly able to do that, for about an hour. That is when Alexia came knocking on your door. Laia is the one to open, “Hey, is y/n here?” You didn’t want to put Laia in the middle of your issues with Alexia, so you walked to the door. “What do you want?” Her eyes diverted to the ground, “Can we talk for a moment?” You didn’t want to talk, but knew that it was probably for the best, if you were going to be at the same location for the upcoming two weeks, as well as playing together. So, you close the door behind you and follow her to an empty room in the building.

It stayed silent for a few minutes, long awkward minutes in your experience, but you weren’t going to start whatever conversation Alexia wanted to have. So, you waited for Alexia to speak up while inspecting every uninteresting thing in the room. “Y/n, I really messed up. I miss you, I should have never broken up with you. I should’ve fought for us, I wish I fought for us. Can I still fight for us?” You couldn’t believe what she was saying. “You really hurt me, Alexia. I don’t think you understand how much pain you’ve caused me.” Alexia steps towards you, “Trust me, I do understand. I’ve been miserable over this.” You take a step back right away, “If you understood, you wouldn’t be asking me for a second chance. I can never trust you the way I did before. You didn’t fight for us when you needed to. We are over Ale, there no longer is an us to fight for.” And with that you left the room.

The week of training before the two friendlies you would play went by fast. You avoided Alexia as much as possible, but during training exercises you set aside your differences because football was a team effort, and you didn’t want your personal situation to affect the team’s results.

Your first friendly against Italy went down without a hitch, earning a final score of 4-1. You were however looking forward to your second friendly against England more. Not only playing against your Arsenal teammates Leah, Beth, Alessia, and Lotte, but also seeing them again. It hadn’t been that long ago of course, but since you were so close with the team, you were missing them dearly.

After a 2-2 draw you walked around the field shaking hands with the Lionesses, and found Leah on the field who you brought in for a hug. She kissed your cheek before Beth came flying in with a hug, but the moment wasn’t missed by Alexia who had been watching the interaction from the dugout. You had told her the two of you were over, but that interaction finalised it for her. You really weren’t hers anymore.

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💗 If you enjoyed this fic, please consider liking, commenting, and reblogging! You can also supporting me by leaving a tip 💗

#alexia putellas #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas x reader #leah williamson #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson imagine #woso #woso imagine #woso imagines #woso x reader #spain wnt #spain women's national team #lionesses #arsenal wfc x reader #arsenal wfc imagine #arsenal women #awfc x reader

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purityonice · 5 months

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🥽 JOHN DORY X READER HEADCANONS ❤️

Requsted? yeah :)

🥽 If you plan a night out John Dory is usually the one who plans the date. EVEN IF you were the one who initially began planning it he WILL take over. Force of habit I guess

🥽 Definitely the type to grab you and pull you back into bed whenever you try to get up to do anything. Grabbing you closer kissing you along your neck tighting his grip on you before pushing you off the bed when you get comfortable. Laughing at your stunned/annoyed face.

🥽 Still flirts with you like you just met, grabbing your arm and twirling you around and pretending like you’ve never met.

🥽 Often begs for rubs/messages because of his sore body due to him adventuring for years. He sulks if you don’t comply and turns around to face his back to you, looking back frequently until you give in.

🥽 This man cooks, cleans, and is an expert on vehicles. You will wake up at 6am and see hes already went for light jog and came back sweaty with ready breakfast on the table. downside is he often forgets to make breakfast for two because hes so used to living alone.

🥽 Keeps every. single. gift. you get him. He’s obviously a guy that loves to have keepsakes he loves little things you wouldn’t even notice.

“OH MY GOD YOU STILL HAVE THAT?”

“HOW COULD I NOT? IT’S MEMORABILIA!”

“THAT WAS FROM LAST WEEK JOHN DORY! throw it away.”

“B-but I do it because i love you~”

“OUT JOHN DORY!”

“FINE! but when you’re old and can’t remember much don’t blame me!”

🥽 Gives you his jacket and melts at how good you look in it. Grabbing your face and planting kisses all over your face.

🥽 Loves to make you flustered but when you flirt back and fluster him it drives him crazy. Makes him feel giddy and his face heats up as his hands get sweaty as you keep flirting back with him making him stutter.

🥽 If you are a BroZone fan he will literally reenact how he would before the band split up. Breaking out into song and letting you join in. Loves that you love his band and gets excited whenever he catches you listening or singing along to their old records.

🥽 Definitely brags about you to his family and makes the trip to get you after picking up Poppy and Branch.

🥽 Will unintentionally boss you around its worse if you have siblings and are the youngest.

🥽 Loves when you cling onto him or add onto his advances towards you.

🥽 Hes not easily flustered but if you compliment his leadership, looks or singing hes over the moon and a blushing mess.

#john dory headcanons #headcanons #john dory trolls #trolls band together #trolls #John Dory x reader #canon x reader #I LOVE HIM SHAGAKUABA #john dory #trolls 3

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yanderederee · 1 year

Text

Library Kisses

a/n:I really wanted to write this idea with Baji in mind but I’ve rewrote it four different times and each time it comes out not good and the only person I can picture is Mikey so I’m giving into the Mikey brain rot okay?

now~ … part2 … part3 … part4 … part5

Manjiro Sano NEVER came to school, even more rarely class. If he did even bother to show up, it was usually to hang out on the roof for some cool air, or in the vending area for a nice nap with snacks nearby. No one could tell him where he needed to be, after all. And if they pushed too hard and annoyed him, he’d just leave.

That suddenly changed after he lost a serious bet with Emma and Shinichiro. The consequence? Attend all classes for Two Weeks.

Two weeks felt like forever, he admitted. The first day didn’t seem like it would be so bad, until he started actually paying attention to the teacher.

God, he thought. What a drag.

(Shikamaru—-?)

Manjiro was so far behind in studies, he had no idea half of what was being taught. So, before he let his temper rise, he simply stopped paying attention again.

This quickly became a problem.

Nothing interesting to keep his attention on, Mikey found himself falling into boredom. Irritation was bubbling yet again. Of corse, Mikey never brought anything with him. No paper, pencil, books, it was a random chance of luck that Emma was even able to find his school bag.

So with literally nothing to keep his attention, he started getting antsy. How long until this dumb lecture was over anyway? He glanced at the clock.

HOW IN THE HELL HAD ONLY 20 MINUTES PASSED?

He was absolutely flabbergasted. No way in Hell would he be able to handle this torture. Screw the bet, Emma and Shin could eat dirt for all Manjiro cared.

Yet…

“…sss…” whispered a tiny sound.

Manjiro would have ignored it had he not been eager for something to get his attention. He shifted his gaze to the direction of the whisper: the cute classmate who sat beside him.

You.

Before he could wonder what or why you were trying to interact with him, he noticed you holding something out to him.

‘..the hell?’ He looked down at what you were gripping in your hands.

It was a notebook. A very basic and boring one, had you not doodled little flowers and vines into the cover.

Cute.

Accompanied with the notebook was both a pencil and pen, both neatly held tight to the notebook.

Mikey looked up to gander at your eyes, which looked rather worried, brows knitted together with a soft considerate smile. You made the effort of motioning to the gifts once more, before he unconsciously took it without much thought.

You seemed to be very pleased by his acceptance, your expression shifted to relief, then a friendly thumbs up before letting your focus run back to the instructor.

‘Why did i even take the book?’ Well, either way it would serve as a doodle book of his own, if nothing else. The pen and pencil both roll off the notebook cover when he opened to examine its contents.

Gibberish, is all Mikey saw. Pure, number coded gibberish. To the average student, it would have looked like neatly worded mathematic notes, color coded and plenty. If he’d looked further, he’d find notes related to other subjects as well. But he really didn’t feel like it.

Thankfully, to keep his interest, a small little notecard was stuck as a bookmark.

Mikey glanced your direction again, amused when he noticed you were doing the exact same thing, but unlike him, when you accidentally made eye contact, you immediately break it to unsubtly pretend to have your attention up front again.

He grinned. You were cute.

Without his left hand never leaving his pocket, he managed to open the notebook with only his right hand, fingers nimbly spreading the book open to the bookmarked section.

He noticed some familiar words on this page. Matter of fact, a lot of the words written down on this section of pages were word for word what was being vocally spoken, when he took a second to listen.

Again shifting his attention, he noticed your handwriting on the bookmark, as well.

“I hope this helps! I don’t see you in class often, so I thought you could use these. Don’t worry about returning them, you can keep them if you want.

If you need help catching up, I’m apart of the tutoring program the school offers!

My name is Y/n L/n, I hope we can get along:)”

That’s all you wrote.

He starred intently at your handwriting for sometime. It was a hell of a lot more legible when what he could do, and while you used rather simple kanji, it still took him a minute to register them. He really Has been gone from school a while.

Manjiro found himself smiling without permission. It was kind of touching, the kindness of a stranger who genuinely looks out for others without gain.

For the sake of your kindness, Mikey did attempt to follow the lesson one more time, with the notes at his ready.

Unfortunately, he still didn’t really get what was going on. What even subject were they talking about? Social studies, geographics, English literature? He gave an exasperated, loud groan before slumping back in his seat. He found himself falling back into irritation.

Trying to calm himself for the third time this class period, he noticed the same soft whisper that caught his attention the first time. Quicker to respond this time, Manjiro lugged his head towards your direction again. He felt his smile wanting to surface again when he was met with your worried expression once more.

You seemed to want to say something, but obviously were worried about the consequences. So, immediately after meeting eyes, you gave a “wait a sec” kind of gesture, and started scribbling on a similarly decorated notecard. He waited for you patiently, unable to do much else anyway.

Soon, you began reaching your hand out to give him the notecard. However, Manjiro wanted more than your written attention. So, before you could react or slip the note on his desk, he reached out to take the note from your hand. He didn’t just reach out to take the note however, purposefully, he outstretched his delicate looking fingers a little further, and trailed his finger tips along the back of your hand. Slowly he offered a very gentle squeeze before his hand pulled back, finger tips trailing a path from your wrist to your nail beds.

The touch was brief, but accidentally intimate. So much so that your breath hitched from the unexpected action. No one seemed to notice. Manjiro did, but no one else. Probably.

This all but lit a fit of flames in his gut, a giddy feeling irrupting before he could even read the note. Eagerly, he scanned the card.

“Don’t let the material get you down! You can catch up in no time. Hang in there!”

This time, your handwriting was a little more messy, quicker. Still, it was cute, he thought.

Giving up on the lecture entirely at this point, he finally let go of his bored sitting stance, and retreated his left hand from his pocket to maneuver the notebook and two note cards on his desk. Grabing the pencil you’d also lent him, he began to scribble something under your handwriting of the second notecard.

“Thanks”

Is all he wrote. Honestly, he got nervous halfway through writing, and gave up after he finished only the single word. Nerves slowly got to him when he noticed a pair of eyes peering at him secretly. Your gaze felt like burning on his skin when he thought about it for too long. Ignoring your gaze this time, he knew you had the upper hand when his peripheral sight caught your big smile.

…

Once the bell had rang for break, all the students seemed to jump up to leave. Manjiro was still doodling in the back of your notebook. You were packing your things neatly as you usually do, glancing at the delinquent next to you. Finishing up a few last strokes, Manjiro lazily held the book up for your appraisal.

Doodled rather… poorly, was his name, and ‘Tokyo Manji Gang’ in different fonts… as well the face of the Doriyaki mascot. (?)

You didn’t seem to hide your amusement, openly giggling at the childish doodles and gave a thumbs up. He liked that. Manjiro grinned at your approval and shut the book, resting his head to look at you with a new intensity.

“Y/n, right?” He asked. You nodded, not seeming too phased by his intentionally intense aura.

“Nice to officially meet you, Manjiro.” You greeted back with a chirp. He blinked at you a little wide before letting out a quiet laugh. “Isn’t it normal to use someone’s surname when addressing them for the first time?” He asked. No, he never minded it. Of corse not.

The middle schooler was used to many names.

Boss.

Captain.

The Invincible Mikey

Mikey.

But the only ones with the privilege to call him by his given name: Manjiro. We’re limited to his only siblings.

. . . .

And apparently, you too.

It was amusing. No stranger DARED utter his given name, out of fear of disrespecting the great Mikey….. yet here you were.

God, he loved the way his name sounded, coming from you.

Manjiro.

He didn’t even realize how smitten by it he was. Not until he realized you were starting at him inquisitively.

Shit, what did you say? He forgot entirely.

…

The following few weeks consisted of Manjiro Sano following you around, more or less.

Out of everything school had to offer, he swears up and down that the only thing that caught his interest was you.

It was a well known fact that Manjiro Sano was a delinquent. Big Boss of Toman. Dangerous beyond a shadow of a doubt.

Mikey never acted in public how he normally would around the founding toman, it wasn’t known how childish and goofy he was.

Manjiro don’t too much trusting. Too many mistakes. He found himself treading lightly, yet he couldn’t back-peddle from wanting your attention.

He monitored you closely for the past week. He took note of your reactions, your ideals, how you treated others. He wrote down your favorite manga, silly irrational fears.

It didn’t take him long to realize how others treated you either.

People walked all over you, yet you didn’t bat an eye about it. It’d be really annoying if you did things for people just so people would like you. People definitely saw you as a pushover.

You rolled with the punches, so to speak. Any vile attitude aimed at you seemed to go unnoticed, as you maintained composure effortlessly. You never gave anyone a reason to bad mouth you either way, but snarky remarks about being a pushover did become a class commodity. It was easy to pick on the one who never fought back.

Yet Manjiro knew it wasn’t out of kindness or seeking compensation for your good deeds.

“Why’d you stop to help that guy pick up his lunch? He was cleaning the mess up just fine, you didn’t need to help him.” Mikey pouted, originally irritated because you broke from his side to do this task.

You finished washing your hands, drying them on the dry cloth Manjiro held out to you. Replying with a shrug, “Why not? He looked like he could use the help. If he didn’t want it he could tell me to buzz off, but it doesn’t hurt to offer some help.”

Manjiro rolled his eyes. “Might not hurt, but it’s inconvenient as hell,” he mumbled. You gave him a stern look, raising an eyebrow. “Inconvenient how? Were you gatta be so urgently?” You joked, confusing your classmate further.

You laughed, and patted him on the shoulder. “Think about it, if you were havin’ a bad day and dropped your stuff, you’d be pretty pissed off right? Even if it’s one little act, things like that help get you through the day,”

“Nothing wrong with trying to make the world a little bit of a nicer place.”

That’s when Manjiro Sano’s knew you were his darling.

You were so soft with him, and he loved that about you. He loved when you beamed at him with pride for whatever academic achievement he mastered…

You were different.

You were perfect- Manjiro declared.

Three weeks finally pass, and Mikey hadn’t missed a single day of school. Maybe a skipped class or two, but he always showed up on his sweet babu, if not to tease you and pick up the notes you made him before snacking on the roof.

Mikey has been holding back ever since that day. Keeping his darker impulses at bay time and time and time again.

He held back every time you got too close, and your clothes brushed up against his more than a casual encounter.

He held back every time you looked him dead in the eye, asking him if he was okay.

He held back when the little pinch of pain in his chest made him want to croak out the truth: Not really…

Mikey held back the tears, the words and feelings he suddenly felt so comfortable expressing.

Because it was you who asked.

Each and every time he held back from making you his darling. He wanted you to hold him so desperately. For you to fill that empty space he’s always had.

A part of Mikey knew that if you found out just how much he loved you, you would start to fear him.

You too would start walking on eggshells around him, run away after high school and abandon him.

…Or you would bend to his command one day, and he hated the thought of it.

He hated thinking about your trapped form, scared to speak the wrong thing.

He hated thinking he could make you into that person.

Ha hated the thought of you hating him.

…he didn’t want you to have that choice.

…

And there you were, listening to him whine.

“Come’onnnn Y/ncchin!~ it’s so boring hereeee,”

You glance down to your left, seeing your classmate’s practice packet still blank. “Well, if you can answer those for me I’ll take you out for Taiyaki; my treat.”

He loved you so much. You always knew how to motivate him.

However, he already knew you would treat him to taiyaki, even if he didn’t get the answers right, or if he even did them at all.

“Buuu~ not this time Y/nchiin! Bribe denied.” He huffed, anticipating your reply.

You matched his huff, crossing your arms. He loved the way you looked when you pouted.

“Maybe I’ll just stop tutoring you then!” You threatened weakly.

“No chance, you want me to graduate so bad.” Mikey snorted a laugh.

“No more leftover bento bits,” you warned testingly.

“You’d never let poor little me starve…” he batted his eyelashes.

“…”

He grinned with triumph.

“Fine, what will it take for you to try to pass ONE class?”

“Mm~” Mikey hummed, glancing over the material to appraise it.

If Manjiro were honest, he could get rather good grades, actually. With repetition, and your good habits, he was actually learning really quickly. But he couldn’t let you know that. He liked when you babied him through some things, just to impress you beyond comprehension moments later.

The praise…

Oh, Mikey thought. That’s it. He wants your praise. He wants you to tell him how awesome he was, how cool and dashing he could be, how smart he was. How much you loved him-

“How bout if I can ace this whole packet, you have to grant me one favor?”

The deal went just as you would have thought it would. He feigned having trouble on the packet of questions, so not to seem overly suspicious.

Yet true to his plan, you now owed him one favor.

“Fine, what favor do you want from me?” You chuckled while rolling your eyes.

Your first line of thought went to,

‘make me homemade taiyaki!’

‘let me cheat on the final!’

‘wax my CB250 !’

… not, “stay still, unless you really don’t want to.”

His voice was a whisper, and you’re immediately caught with your guard down.

Manjiro gently weaves his left hand under your hair. He tilts your head slightly, enough so he could achieve his goal, any resistance on your end being considered with mindful touches. He wouldn’t push you past your comfort. He couldn’t stand if you looked at him with fear in your eyes, too.

Your breath hitches, giving way to wind the excitement his actions gifted you.

Your breath continues to be shaky, yet obeying his favor, you sat still.

Both of you took a few seconds to get your racing hearts back under control.

It was futile, but the nerves to act finally snapped after Mikey and your eyes’ caught each others. The mirrored look of excitement was all Manjiro could stand. The accepting bat of your eyelashes.

Manjiro Sano didn’t hold back this time.

Still gentle, Manjiro quickly closed the gap between your awaiting kiss.

Seconds pass. Two very soft sighs can be heard.

Followed by Manjiro’s lip clicking sweetly against yours when the kiss naturally deepened.

This was heaven.

The feeling of you so close, so accepting, so gentle to him.

Mikey wanted to caress you into a deep hold, may so that the heat and desperate banging against his chest would finally feel heard. He wanted to feel your heartbeat pulse against his lips.

Manjiro Sano wanted to be gentle.

But he couldn’t help how his muscles tensed and grabbed you harder. How could he, when you just let out the cutest fucking moan. The craving of your submission suddenly became more appealing, Mikey felt himself coming to life again.

He pushed your lips deeper, the force of his grip and encouragement to mimic his lead allow the kiss to deepen once more to something more recognized as making out.

He couldn’t stop. You were losing breath, and he could feel you try to initiate a pause, but damnit, he couldn’t stop.

It started getting hard to breathe without gasping for air, but your whines and accidental moans were damning you more than you realize.

Manjiro. Couldn’t. Stop.

Again, he pushed the kiss so you had no other choice than to breathe your cute noises into his waiting mouth, tongue darting for a taste.

He couldn’t stop himself from pulling you closer into his embrace, making it so you were standing on one foot while your other knee rested just between his thighs.

Fuuuck, he thought. You’re so warm, all of you. But warmest of all, was the heat you were generating with friction and arousal. All he had to do was hike his knee up just a little. Just a little bit. He couldn’t even begin to imagine the animal he would become after hearing what your siren like moans would turn him into.

So finally, Manjiro held back.

He pulled back, panting without much issue. Assessing your face, your eyes… your lips.

Your lips were just barely swollen, rubbed into a pretty red tint (with his help).

A thin, barely noticeable line of spit lay unattended, from his unfortunate retreat.

He wiped it gingerly, looking back into your eyes with a hooded gaze.

“A…are you.. sure?” You softly croaked out.

“About what..?” Manjiro whispered back.

“I dont… like joking about these types of things…” you continue, face becoming redder. “S-so if you’re messing around, I’ll get mad…” you warned, again, weakly.

You were so soft with him.

“And what if I’m not messing around?” Mikey asks you point blank, his intense stare once again peering into your very soul.

There’s a short moment of silence.

And suddenly, it’s your turn to gently brush against his also swollen lips. Rather than a kiss, it felt more like a binding.

Manjiro Sano vowed to you that very moment. And this was a seal of your acceptance.

That was all he could ever ask for.

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iactuallykissedsharawheeler · 7 months

Text

⭑⌗ 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐑 𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐄 𝐇𝐂𝐒 + 𝐟𝐞𝐦 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

✶ let's go ahead and clear that idea that ellie wouldn't be like. immediately obsessed with you and giving you secret discounts on the weed.

✶ she met you five seconds ago and she was like. why would she ever pay for anything?? she's literally my reason for breathing?? (ok babe 😭) so you're getting that stuff for lowest price she can possibly make it. and if you flirt a little?? she's wondering why she's not just handing you the bag for free.

✶ when you guys get closer, she notices you're kinda into pink so when she sees pink papers???? she's SLAMMING that card, best believe. when you're freaking and like HOWD YOU GET THIS she's trying to pretend to be all cool like oh idk just found 'em and thought it'd be funny but if you like 'em you can have them ... i guess 😒

✶ if you're a little inexperienced with it she's a little protective and is like oh i don't think you should try that this one's way better and gives it to you on the house like?? you're trying to pay for it and she's like noooo it's for you just take it even though that was some of her good weed and she never gives that out. but you're nice and sweet and her bestest customer so who is she to charge you??

✶ when y'all are closer she literally just starts buying shit for you. you're like oh my gosh this bracelet is literally so pretty and next time you come over she's like so.. guess what and there's the bracelet in a box under two pretty pre-rolls (that she's also not letting you pay for btw)

✶ n you're so worried about breaking her bank when she does it but she's literally living lavish because she's everyone's dealer and no one with weed isn't getting it from her. (charismatic queen tbh)

✶ plus if you think this is gonna kill her wallet just wait until you guys start actually dating. she's not even waiting for you to ask for shit, she's telling you to put your cart on public so she can surprise you all the time.

✶ you're like babe how am i gonna pay you back and she's like just .. be pretty for me, yeah? 's not hard for you at all. (just flustered myself give me a minute)

✶ and some random things i just think she'd do:

✶ texting you high out of her mind about dinosaur facts because she just knows too much and needs to get it out immediately (she's such a nerd I love it 😭)

✶ trying to shotgun with you but she sees your face lookin' all pretty n dazed, chokes on the smoke, and just simply never does it after that. (give her a week, she'll be back)

✶ reading a shit ton of sci-fi. she compulsively reads savage starlight all the time but she's actually obsessed with the whole genre n can't exist without it atp (she DEFINITELY owns a few space cowboy books and before meeting you she would always imagine she was the lead guy with the hot love interest who was definitely some kind of alien. don't question it.)

✶ if you're a plushie girlie (me fr) she's ALWAYS buying you plushies. but she always buys one that matches yours for herself so you guys are "always together" or something. idk she's a little bit of a loser.

✶ she's so bad at keeping up with skincare but now she just weaponises that and makes you do it for her. literally rolling her eyes and pouting if you do yours without her, mumbling shit like "oh yeah, just forget about ellie, huh? that's what they all do" until you're like babe what??? 😭

✶ also i know that everyone says this but she really does own some weird ass shirts 😭😭 she'll get high and buy weird shit like that shirt that just says tomatoes it's so wild going through her closet lmaoo

✶ and because of her high shopping she also has some weird ass bongs like. seriously. there's a an astronaut one with octopus legs for sure, i can feel it.

✶ high ellie tweets>> she's actually so out of pocket sometimes 😭 some of her greatest hits would probs be

✶ also she was so nervous around you and wouldn't look you in the eye for too long because she didn't wanna scare you but then she got a little bold when she found out you liked girls and then was just straight up cocky when she realised you liked her, too (that blunt flick when dina said she wanted her to kiss her .. yeah that ellie)

✶ she's just the bestest, silliest, nerdiest girl ever and the best girlfriend literally anyone could ask for 💞💞

hey guys back with another banger hope you guys enjoyed make sure to like follow and subscribe‼️ no but seriously give me opinions because i love hearing you guys have little convos and the reposts are always so wild 😭😭 thank you new jersey, and goodnight (also don't look at the tags im shy) as alwaysss creds to @ cafekitsune bc these dividers are so mf cute

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faetreides · 1 month

Note

do you think modern!coryo is the type of man to babytrap reader without them knowing ? like by poking holes in the condoms or by replacing reader’s birth control pills with fake ones…

n when you end up pregnant he’d pretend to act all surprised even tho it’s what he’s wanted all along 🙈

cw: no really explicit stuff (putting up the mdni banner regardless bc of the dark content but there is one mention of sex) but there is MAJOR dubcon pregnancy and baby trapping talk, typical coryo warnings especially for this au

I've talked about this before, but i think baby trapping would be more of a last resort for him or at least wouldn't happen until he could weasel you out of school without you freaking out. Obviously if your relationship was falling apart fast enough before he planned to have kids, he'd make the decision to speed up the process. Coryo's one of those bfs who don't fuck with condoms because he wants to be "close", so I think that he'd go for the swapping birth control pills route.

So, it's either happening earlier in your relationship if he thinks he really needs to prove that what you have is forever & that he's committed, or it happens 2-3 years down the line when he has a more solid hold on you. When it goes down depends on how reluctant you are to commit.

He knows that it's such a hassle finding the right pill for your body. you have to be so consistent, and the hormones/side effects could easily have you thinking they're not worth it if the side effects are bad enough. But if you've found one that's.... fine (you're convinced no pill's going to be 100% perfect & you're tired of trying), then he'd have a harder time getting you off of them.

He'll get a bottle of those sugar pills and swap them with the birth control while you're sleeping. you don't really notice a difference in the sex because let's be real, he's just always like that and the breeding kink is severe. Coryo doesn't act any different, he doesn't have to. Even if this is happening in a timeline where it's far earlier than he planned, it's what he wants, and the satisfaction gives him the glow he knows you're going to have too sooner or later.

One day he gets a phone call from you in the middle of the night and somehow, he just knows it's you because he immediately springs up. You hate phone calls and almost always prefer to text unless you literally have to call someone, so the fact that it must be something serious makes the butterflies in his stomach flutter. Coryo clears his throat and calmly tells you to stay put in your dorm and to wait for him to pick you up, he soothes you through your crying and assures you that he'll send someone over to pick your stuff up and no one will notice.

Once he's gotten you drowning in his silk sheets, he's trying to hold back his smile as he rubs your back and kisses your temple.

"What's wrong, petal? it breaks my heart seeing you all worked up like this."

He frowns genuinely when you don't respond but then you bring a shaky fist in front of him and start to uncurl your fingers around whatever you're holding.

You speak once you've calmed down enough, with a desperate tone as it becomes obvious what's in your hand.

"I- I'm so sorry, Coryo. I didn't mean for this happened at all and I'd never do anything to hurt your future. I- I'm on the pill and I know it's not completely effective, but I never thought that this would happen so soon."

It's adorable, in a way. Of course you didn't mean for this to happen, but he did. And you honestly thought that this was going to ruin his life, you're so sweet, but how could he care about tabloids or gossiping students when he'll have his family to focus on? his grandma'am will be so happy too, his father will just be glad he has an heir.

Still, he lets shock color his face as his mouth drops open. He glances between the pregnancy test and your shaking body several times before making a production out of sighing and gathering his strength. Coryo tenderly encapsulates your hands in his own and presses his forehead against yours.

"There's nothing you could do that would make me not want you and this baby. Yes, we're young and this was an accident, but it doesn't mean that we can't do this. You don't have to be afraid, bunny, you're never going to be alone." His words are firm, so sure of what he's saying that he can actually see the reluctance and fear in your eyes be replaced with certainty and excitement.

He's too serious to say "it's uterUS, babe" but he's so determined to fuse with you so it's basically the sentiment. convinced he gets sympathy pains but hides it. Whispers to your belly when you're asleep about how much he loves you and likes the baby & how perfect of a family he'll be & that he knows the baby's going to be the best older sibling. I've also said before that he'd a toxic boy dad imo, (not in the excusing 🍇way dw, he'd kick his son's ass and say that you can be as obsessive over your partner as you want but you don't do that) so he would tolerate the kid but at the end of the day they're fighting for your attention. I haven't really thought about if he'd use the kid to "innocently" keep tabs on you or further manipulate you by making sure you see how good of a dad he is, but the ideas are there.

First pregnancy gives y'all one kid but the second brings twins.

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houpss · 2 months

Text

SKZ's reaction to your death ver. maknae line

hyung line (please pay attention to this work, I tried 😿)

It pains me to write this work, my heart breaks and I begin to believe in this nonsense... BUT REMEMBER THAT ONLY PERSONALITIES ARE TAKEN FROM THE REAL SKZ, EVERYTHING REST IS FICTION!

Mentions of explosions, drugs, addictions, fatal diseases, a lot of tears, fatal diseases . ANGST.

Han Jisung

He begged you not to go, because he had a nightmare where you died.

You just laughed it off and kissed Jisung on the cheek, what could have happened?

He literally knew this would happen.

He calls Changbin: “The company building Y/N was in was blown up.”

He knew.

He felt nothing, complete emptiness.

His hands were shaking madly, he wanted to disappear.

Your body was not found, perhaps it was torn to pieces.

An empty coffin was buried, it's so scary.

The feeling of your morning kiss is still on his cheek. You promised him to come in the evening and watch new episodes of anime.

But you'll never come back again.

He dreams about you, but he wants more.

Yes, he will start taking drugs to prolong the effect of your presence.

Members will notice this only over time.

Minho and Hyunjin dragged Jisung to psychotherapist and addiction specialists while the other members cleared out Jisung's room.

You are no longer in his room, there is nothing connected with you there anymore.

“Jisung, Y/N wouldn’t like it that you became a drug addict.”

"There is no more Y/N, which means I don’t care about myself."

His eyes are full of pain, he hasn’t cried since your death, the tears just won’t come.

"It's like I died with her"

"Bro, you need to move on with your life for her sake, she would want that."

"What's the point if it doesn't exist?"

"You're destroying yourself"

Jisung doesn't care.

He walks a lot, he doesn't eat and he writes a lot, he wrote so many lyrics.

Felix spoon feeding Jisung is so wrong.

He needs to learn to take care of himself.

No one else will be as caring as you.

Han Jisung will never cry, because he sees you regularly, he practically doesn’t miss you anymore.

After a while he will return to drugs again, it just hurts him. he misses.

And again he will go to a narcologist and psychotherapist.

And again, again, again. It's a vicious circle.

He doesn’t want you to leave, stay with him some more. He can't handle it.

Lee Felix

"You are very beautiful today, Y/n"

"Lixie, I feel worse every day... don't say that."

"But you are so beautiful..we will get out together"

He lied, you won't get out. He lied to you and himself.

He forbade the doctors to tell you about your condition. Everything was handed over to him personally.

He knew you didn't have much time left.

On your last day, he baked you your favorite cookies, as if he felt that you would leave him.

He wasn't ready.

Late in the evening, he fed you cookies and read your favorite book, you squeezed his hand tightly.

"Felix, I love you very much...you are my happiness, freckle"

Your last words. The sun has gone out, the world is falling apart.

Changbin and Minho led him out of the room; other participants were already waiting in the corridor.

It was so painful and empty, as if happiness had disappeared. You disappeared.

He returned to the dorm, his request to return to your apartment was refused.

You refused to be hospitalized until the very end, but Felix still managed to drag you to the hospital. You even felt better.

He was lying on his back in a cold bed, it was cold without you.

This will be his first birthday without you.

He doesn't want to celebrate it.

Your stuffed animal was lying on his bed, he held it tightly in his hands.

It hurt, he was all alone now.

This will go on for several weeks. Felix doesn't remember anything, like stills from a movie.

Members constantly come to see him.

He pretends to live, and is even happy that it’s his birthday. His first birthday without your presence.

He doesn't want it that way.

"Felix, let's go, you need to take a walk."

Chan lifted Felix out of bed, washed him, changed him and fed him. Felix is so grateful to Chan.

Chan drove Felix to your apartment, he said he would pick Felix up later.

Everywhere there was the smell of you and your love, on the table there was food for Felix and the usual note. The bed is rumpled.

He fell to his knees, tears streaming down his cheeks. it absolutely hurt, he felt nothing but pain.

For some reason, for the first time he felt so painful and sad. In general, Felix is very vulnerable, but...

He never imagined how he would cry over the loss of someone.

He couldn't even contact your family.

You had no family or friends; you were abandoned as a child. Felix and SKZ were the only people close to you.

You never really wanted to tell Felix about your family, it was too painful to remember.

He so wanted to hug you, stroke your pretty cheeks and tell you that everything is good in this world. you have nothing to fear.

You loved it when he hugged you and smiled brightly.

He always lied.

He always lied and said that your condition was improving.

Did he regret that he lied? No

He was delaying the moment of death for you.

He put on your huge sweater, your bright smell is on it. He loves this smell so much.

He loves you so much.

Loving people don't leave. stupid lie.

Why does it hurt so much? Why does it hurt so much to love someone?

Then Chan took him, Felix might feel better for a few days.

Felix will even appear at a fashion event.

But...

You will have to bury two coffins, he will die after you.

Felix realized that it was so stupid... it was stupid to live without you.

You will find him in the afterlife, right?

" Lee Felix 15.09.2000–08.10.202*"—"Lee Y/N 01.01.2000–08.09.202*"

Kim Seungmin

You were strangled in an alley while returning home.

Kim didn't have time to meet you.

He blamed himself and only himself.

Your body was found only in the morning.

Pale suits you, dear.

Seungmin looked at you as usual, like you were the eighth wonder of the world...why did you go to that alley?

No, Seungmin never cries.

He did not ask for the support of his members or the support of his family, he will cope on his own, as always.

He will become closed and taciturn. The company won't even release a statement about his rest.

He will throw himself into his work, he will work day and night.

The members are too worried about his condition.

Seungmin doesn't feel anything anymore, he doesn't feel joy, sadness, or pain.

As if the body exists separately from him. Inside he is nobody.

He returns to your shared apartment only a few weeks later, his lips frozen: “Y/N, I’m home.”

But there was no one at home except him.

The apartment is dark and cold, it was so empty without you.

On the dresser he will find an envelope with a letter, you left him one every time when he returned late.

It said: “I love you very much, Kim Seungmin. Come to me in my dreams.”

This was not as usual, you had never written to him like this.

Everything that had accumulated over several weeks came out.

Seungmin hates crying, he never cries.

Tears flow limply down his face as he presses the paper to his chest.

You won't come back anymore, it's time to get used to it.

He will find your album with photos, he is so in love with you.

Then he will fall asleep and see you in his dreams for the first time. Thank you for coming.

then you told him to move on... but how to live without you?

For the first time, he felt unbearable pain and despair.

He will write songs about you, breathing you and living in the past.

Why does Kim Seungmin continue to live?

Yang Jeongin

Baby, he killed you himself.

How did it happen?

"I could be a better boyfriend than him"

He was always very jealous of you, but to the point of killing you?

This is a terrible case.

Jeongin has no regrets, you're mine or nobody's

No one will know about this, it is disguised as an accident. What a pity.

Perhaps he will be bored.

He's so bored without you

A few times he will come to your grave, it's quite rude.

He keeps all your things with him, he will never be missed, you are nearby.

tell me why did you kill her?

“Jeongin, why don’t you miss her?”

"She is forever in my heart"

It's like he's lying.

"I killed her simply because I was so jealous." Pure confession

He might even cry to show that he misses you.

You don't want to look for it in the next life, a very cruel death at the hands of a loved one.

And Jeongin won’t look for anyone else, because he loves YOU.

Sometimes his conscience torments him, but he did it for the good.

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tsumuswifey · 11 months

Note

I've got an atsumuxreader request where they are in a secret relationship but it starts getting to the point where they have little to no interaction in public. making her feel insecure and she starts wondering if he even loves her anymore, when girls start flirting with him and his teammates ask him about any girls he might be interested in and he doesn't hint at being in a relationship at all. I'm a sucker for angst to fluff!!

Thank youuuuu!! ❤️❤️

Of course, one Atsumu x Reader coming right up!(:

Atsumu was destined to be great.

If there was anything to be sure of, it was just that. Growing up with him had shown you on more than one occasion that if that boy had his eyes set on something, that he was going to achieve it. It didn't matter what it cost him, he was incredibly headstrong.

So when he approached you on a hazy morning in early December, hands trembling in a way you'd never seen before, words tumbling from his mouth so fast you could hardly understand a thing he'd said, it had shocked you. Long gone was the Atsumu that puffed his chest out every time someone complimented his skills. Long gone, was the Atsumu that didn't so much as get the nervous sweats before volleyball matches in front of scouts.

"I'm sorry, Tsumu," You start, heart pounding wildly against your ribs, "I'm not quite sure I caught that."

He visibly shudders, unable to hold eye contact as he says almost desperately, "I'd really like to take ya on a date. Please. Let me take ya on a date?"

He says it slowly, accent dripping from his mouth like molasses. He rakes a hand through his murky hair, fingers shaking so hard you almost consider asking him if he needs to sit down and just breathe.

He almost loses hope when you don't immediately answer his question, but then he looks up at you, and your mouth forms the words, yes 'Tsum, I'd love that, and his whole world tilts on its axis.

Your friendship had always been a close one. Your friends had never batted an eye at the way your head would slowly find its rest against one of his broad shoulders during movie nights, nor the way you'd wear his hoodies.

So when the shift happens, no one notices. Not even Suna, the perceptive guy he was. You both decided that maybe it was for the best, if you kept your relationship from everyone until you could figure out a good way to break the news.

It wasn't that you really thought your friends would be upset, it was just that it was all so new, and as much as you hoped it wouldn't happen, if you decided to breakup, neither of you wanted to cause rifts in the friend group.

You go on for two months like that, hiding your relationship behind the guise of your already close friendship. It isn't a terrible feat, besides the fact that 99% of the time, your boyfriends literal other half is around, making it difficult to spend any time together. But then you started looking forward to little things, like the winks Atsumu'd send you in passing at school, or his foot nudging yours beneath the desk in math class. You grew tired of watching your friends freely hug and kiss their boyfriends. You grew tired of pretending to cheer on Atsumu as a friend and not as your boyfriend.

Over time, it began to feel like you weren't really dating him anymore.

It didn't hit its breaking point until you were eating at your favorite ramen shop with the twins, Suna, and Ginjima. You feel like your heart might burst from your chest when Ginjima excitedly asks Atsumu about a girl who had been flirting with him after practice earlier in the day.

You eye him carefully, gauging his reaction. It's not that you didn't trust him, it's just the absolute lack of anything between the two of you had gotten to your head. You feel sick to your stomach when he blushes.

"Ah yeah," Your boyfriend finally says, "She was nice an' all but I'm not looking for a relationship or anything at the moment. Volleyball's the most important thing to me right now. Can't let some girl cloud my judgement, y'know? Can't take my eyes off the prize just yet-"

You shove your stool back, wincing when it clatters to the ground, catching the attention of every person in the small ramen shop.

"Woah," Suna breaks the silence, "Y/n, are you good?"

You take a deep breath, embarrassment sending a chill up your spine. "Yeah, um, sorry, I just don't feel very well. Think I ate something bad. I'll see you guys tomorrow, 'kay?"

You grab your backpack off of the ground, slinging it around your shoulders before taking off for the exit.

"Wait up," Atsumu says hurriedly, trying to catch up with you, "I'll walk ya home."

You shake your head, forcing yourself to put one foot in front of the other. "No thanks, I don't really think you should be around me. Might cloud your judgement or-"

"Y/n."

Atsumu grabs you by the back of the sleeve, yanking hard enough that you fall against him.

"Y/n," He says again. "I didn't mean that, angel. Ya had to have known I didn't mean that, right?"

You click your tongue, feeling mad at yourself when tears collect on your lash line.

You sigh dejectedly, "Atsumu, I love being your girlfriend..but lately it's like I'm not. I can't remember the last time you genuinely kissed me. I get that we wanted to keep this a secret, but I'm really starting to wish we never decided that because I want to be able to hold your hand and wear your jersey and I want you to be able to call me 'angel' in front of everyone. It just hurt that you said all of that. Whether you meant it or not. And I know it's dumb but hearing Ginjima talk about that girl flirting with you..it made me feel icky. I dunno-"

And for the second time in one night, Atsumu cuts you off.

"Baby," He breathes, gathering you into his arms. "I am so sorry. I don't want you to feel that way. I love you. I really do. I think I have since the day I found ya sitting on the sidewalk playing with worms after a rainstorm. All I've ever wanted to do is respect you and yer wishes, so if I'd known ya felt like this I wouldn't have been so closed off."

You press your face into his chest, breathing in the smell of his deodorant. "Can we stop being a secret, 'Tsumu? I'm sick of being secretive."

You feel him nod his head before his lips press against the top of your head. "Me too. It's hard to not be able to boast about my girl to all my friends. Did you know that she's the most beautiful person I've ever laid my eyes on?"

"Is she?" You ask, heart in your throat.

"Yeah," He confirms, "And, don't tell her this, but sometimes I feel like my heart is reaching for hers. That's how in love with her I am."

You tilt your head back to look at him, nearly swooning when he whispers, "There she is. There's my beautiful girl."

Leaning up, you kiss him softly.

"Love you," You whisper, nudging your nose playfully against his.

"Who loves me?"

"I love you."

You can feel the way Atsumu grins before he returns the sentiment.

"I love ya, too, baby."

You take a deep breath, heels finding the ground as you suggest going back to the ramen shop to talk to the guys about your relationship.

"Ah," Atsumu says awkwardly, "Something tells me they already know."

You turn to find the Osamu, Suna, and Ginjima standing not far from you guys.

"How long have you been watching us?"

"Long enough to find out that you guys are together!" Ginjima says, accusation etched into his tone. Suna snorts, and nudges Osamu.

"Nah, we've known."

Ginjima raises his hand, "Hello? I didn't?"

Osamu deadpans, "No shit, Sherlock. Else you would've kept your big mouth shut and not upset the lady back there."

You're suddenly unsure of if you feel relieved that your relationship is out in the open or slightly afraid. Either way, all you know, is that you are loved, and for now, that is more than enough.

#atsumu x reader #atsumu angst #atsumu miya #atsumu miya x reader #miya atsumu #haikyuu #atsumu miya imagines #miya atsumu imagines #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu x reader

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ivys-garden · 18 days

Text

I, like many of yall, have noticed a vocal minority of people showing there support for Wilbursoot, going as far as to attack shubble and her supporters. In this post I'll go through the main points I've seen them argue with and explain why I believe that they are all wrong.

“Shubble was the real abuser” - No. If she was, William would have spoken up. There is no evidence for this, well, that isn't faked or saying one thing is another (like the guy saying a pic of will crying was because of shubble or the guy trying to pass a stream of a completely different girl of as shubble abusing will… live. On stream. Yah, think we would have heard of that before now.)

“She has no proof” - genuinely fuck of. In domestic abuse cases there won't always be hard proof, that's one of the reasons the police struggle to do anything about it. If a wife is struck by a husband and it leaves no mark that doesn't mean it didn't happen “why didn't she show the bruises” have you guys ever been bruised? Bruises heal quickly, and she doesn't have any to show since the allegations came out after their break up, all the bruises would have healed. “Why didn't she take photos at the time?” Look at it this way, if I punch you across the face you will have a lot of thoughts, none of them will be “I should take a photo of this so people belive me what I say it happened”

(Also don't pretend that people wouldn't just say the evidence was fake if she did have pictures)

Oh and she does have evidence, the fact William admitted to it.

“She just did it for attention” - bitch, shubble doesn't need attention she was doing great. Just because you never heard of her didn't mean she was some underground indie youtuber, she didn't need to lie to get attention. Also lying about domestic abuse is not a good way to do this since it's really easy to disprove. The other party would come out instantly to tell everyone the truth. William didn't do that because shubble WAS telling the truth.

“Her story changed” - no. It didn't. Even the idea that she changed whether or not wilbur bruised with the bites or made her bled (both of which are still bad, btw) is made up, she never said that, as was clarified by shubble herself

“She encouraged death threats” - She openly decouraged death threats. Saying she was like: “everyone go and tell people to kill themselves” is literally putting words in her mouth

Also, this by no means goes for everyone, but arguing about death threats while, wilbur hasn't told his supports not to send death threats and that wilburs supporters have been saiding threats to shubble and her fans while condemning the few shubble fans who sent death threats, is kinda stupid

(Also this is by no means the main point but I have seen people who support wilbur literally begging for death threats, soooooooo)

(Oh aslo I was mistaken in the early version where I said shubble had implied that she didn't belive wilbur could change, that was another misconception and I'm sorry for spreading it. Shubble does belive that people can change IF they put in the work to do so)

Also remember, William has not been shown to actually change yet. He still hasn't even given shubble an apology that takes proper accountability, when he does that, apologies to everyone else he's wronged, and puts in the effort to actually be better moving forward, then we can forgive him. But at the moment he has not shown that.

So until then: support shubble. Belive victims. Raise awareness for these issues in the gaming space (this has been going on for a long time). And don't engage with people who make up evidence to support there parasocial relationships, don't send death threats (obviously, because that's wrong) but also don't engage in any other way. This will be my last post on this subject. Move on from William and the support for him will die down when they realise there's no one to disagree with, and then William, Shubble and all of us can move past this and into the future as a (hopefully) better space

#shubble #shelby grace #wilbur soot #shubblesupportsquad #shubble support #shubble situation #wilbur situation

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linawritestwst · 6 months

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HI LINAAAAA YAYAYAYAY

I'd like to request something masquerade related, if you don't mind! (The masquerade thoughts won't leave) Can I ask for Riddle, Azul, Rollo, and Neige and their reactions when the person they like is happily dancing with someone else? Tyty and take your time!! Don't forget to take breaks! <3

"i'd hold you as the water rushes in, if i could dance with you again" (gn!reader)

(divider link)

OH TARU... THIS IS A GOOD ONE. THIS IS A GOOD ONE and yes glomas supremacy!!

(and yes the title is a lyric from dancing with our hands tied <3)

characters: riddle rosehearts, azul ashengrotto, neige leblanche, rollo flamme

genre: angst

warnings: this is a sad one. yeah. so if you're not a fan of angst, i suggest you skip this one! (+ a description of what can sound like a panic/anxiety attack in the azul part and yandere themes in the rollo part)

riddle rosehearts.

♡ riddle.. wasn't happy to see you dancing with somebody else. he was ashamed of feeling this way. he knew that you don't belong to him, he knew that you two aren't even dating, he wasn't sure if you even like him back. and still, there he was, standing and watching you two dance and feeling like he just got stabbed in the heart and all he could do is just pretend that everything is fine while he's bleeding out.

♡ it's just.. he'd be lying if he said that he wasn't excited about the idea of dancing with you. he'd be lying if he said that it wasn't hard for him to take his eyes off you once he saw you in your masquerade outfit. but he will still lie. he will still try his best to ignore you and act like he didn't just get his heart broken in the worst way possible. because that's what a good and responsible dorm leader does. the queen's rules should always be more important to him than his own feelings.. right?

♡ when you're done dancing and go back to riddle, you notice that something about his behavior is.. weird. you ask if everything's okay and he tries so hard to smile at you and say that it's nice of you to worry about him, but you shouldn't since everything is fine. but for some reason, he still can't look you in the eyes. and he can also feel his despair and sadness slowly turn into anger. if it wasn't a different school, riddle would probably burn this place to the ground, but that's rollo's job. so for now, he'll just wait until he can go back to nrc. he has no idea what to do with all these emotions though. and he doesn't know who to ask. just why did you do this to him?..

azul ashengrotto.

♡ "y/n, here you are! what do you think about this new mostro lounge-" but before azul could finish this sentence, he saw you. and not just you. he saw somebody else too. dancing with you, holding your hand, looking into your eyes, smiling at you. and what's even worse than all of that, you were smiling back. and you two looked happy. so genuinely happy that azul just stood there, not being able to move or say a word. he couldn't believe his eyes. and he couldn't believe his ears as he heard you two laugh. just.. what happened while he was gone?

♡ no, no, it's rude for him to stare. he should leave. he should talk to somebody else. he should focus on something else. anything. literally anything else. but it hurts. and he has only one thought in his head, which is "what's going on?". but azul knows well what's going on. his eyes are becoming wet because of all the tears, his head is spinning, his hands are shaking, everything is too loud, everything is too confusing, everyone is too happy. he can't smile anymore. but he should.

♡ look at him. he's never changed. he is still the same crybaby that he always was. look at him trying to leave this place while everyone is too busy dancing and talking to each other. it's okay, nobody will notice anyway. they'll just go "ah, he's probably trying to come up with more ideas for mostro lounge or something". except you do notice that he's gone and apologize to your dance partner and promise that you will be right back. and when you finally find azul, you see that this man has already become a sobbing mess, but the moment you say his name, he suddenly goes back to normal. "ah, y/n, what's wrong? have you been looking for me?" or at least looks like it. you can still see the tears in his eyes though.

neige leblanche.

♡ "y/n!~ hmm, where could they possibly go?.. y/n!-" oh. he finally found you, but.. haha, he really did not expect to see you dancing with somebody else already. no, no, don't get him wrong! he's happy to see you having fun! as long as you're happy, that's all that matters to him, really. he's just glad to see you're okay. so he breathes out and tries to calm down, but for some reason he feels a little bit weirder than usual. just what could this feeling be? his heart feels.. kinda heavy? and it's actually a little hard for him to breathe. a-ah, maybe he's just tired, that's all.

♡ no, seriously, he's happy for you! and someone like him couldn't be jealous! like, he just.. he just can't be jealous, come on! like, sure, he can totally understand when others feel this way and he's always told others that jealousy is not a bad feeling, but when it comes to him.. u-uh, it's bad, okay? and it's kinda selfish, like, he doesn't own you! and you two are not even dating! and seriously, this just feels wrong. he's a popular guy. he has so many fans and admirers. so many people have a crush on him. and he feels sad because one person is dancing with somebody else? that's just stupid.

♡ it's actually very hard to say that something is wrong with neige. out of these four, he's the calmest one about it. he's still smiling, he's still laughing, he's still having fun and being his usual self. and when you come back to him, his eyes shine even brighter and he's very, very happy to see you. it's all because you're his dearest, most precious, most important friend after all! wait, no, all of his friends are equally important to him.. but then why does he feel especially happy when he sees you? and why does seeing you with somebody else hurt him so bad?..

rollo flamme.

♡ rollo would be lying if he said that he wasn't looking for you, but he really was curious to see what you were doing. it would be nice to talk to you one more time, even if it's just simply saying hi to you, before you have to go back to nrc. but.. it looks like you're a little bit busy right now. he shouldn't bother you. it's okay, he has things to do as well. he's the student council president, he doesn't have time for this anyway. so he just tries to distract himself, but even when somebody is talking to him and he tries his best to focus, he can't help but look at you dancing once more.

♡ of course, it was naive of him to expect you to fall in love with him so quickly. it's been three days. and you also came with people who you know much better and rollo really, really hates to admit it, but it's possible that you actually already like one of them. listen, it's not his fault for falling in love with you right after meeting you, it's those mages' fault for casting a spell on you and making you believe that they are the right choice. for now, he'll just pretend that he hasn't seen it and even if he has, it doesn't bother him. he already has not the best reputation among nrc students anyway..

♡ well, he'll act like this for now. it's okay, he knows you'll be his anyway. who cares if you dance with somebody else? he doesn't even like dancing. and who cares with somebody else, if in the end he'll be the only one who gets to hold your hand when you're scared, protect you when you're in danger and kiss your soft beautiful lips when you are all alone? so for now, he'll be here, imagining a perfect life with you, without all these people. he won't let anyone harm you or steal you from him. he's the only person who actually deserves to be with you. why? he simply knows.

#twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #twst x reader #twisted wonderland imagines #twst imagines #twst headcanons #riddle rosehearts #riddle rosehearts x reader #azul ashengrotto #azul ashengrotto x reader #neige leblanche #neige leblanche x reader #rollo flamme #rollo flamme x reader

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the-darklings · 2 years

Text

──𝐭𝐨𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐢 𝐛𝐮𝐫𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐞 [𝐕𝐈.]

summary: "You know what he is. Better than most. I need not do anything. One day, dear Dream will ruin this himself."

pairing: dream of the endless x f!reader

wc: 3.6k+

warnings: Wanderer is going through it emotionally; the price for immortality is the burden of remembering, Dream is still Dream ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

notes: I wrote this in 4hrs and need to get up at 4am (it's now 11.30pm) so if there are more warts on this than usual, I'm really sorry!! thank you so much for your support, too. enjoy the quiet before the storm...

part one | series masterlist | ao3 |

PART SIX: YEAR 522-619

Your landings have improved. With the passing centuries, you’ve come to predict and control them better. Landings differ based on the circumstances of your escape. Sometimes it’s as simple as snapping like a rubber band from one place to another. Minimal pain compared to what you once dealt with, and significantly more comfortable. Based on your condition, landing can range anywhere from stumbling steps to falling flat on your face.

Today, unfortunately, it’s the latter.

Your skin burns, prickling all over, chafing from within. It’s become more of a dull ache after five hundred and seventy-five years. Easier to manage. Your control, in that sense, has come leaps and bounds.

Gravity bites into your ankles, forcing you to tip forward. Your jaw jolts upon impact, each tooth rattling when you hit the cherry red, glossy flooring. Your right hand throbs in protest at your side.

“Oh, dear,” a purring voice floats over. “There you are.”

Rolling onto your back, you huff a winded breath, cradling your lumpy, partially numb hand. “Desire.”

Desire of the Endless laughs, low and sensual, at your dry greeting. It’s quite the sight, but this is hardly the worst position they’ve ever found you in. Like the Dreaming, Threshold—Desire’s domain—hums with power around you. There’s a stark difference between the warm, lulling familiarity of the Dreaming compared to Desire’s kingdom. Threshold pulses with heat, want and desire. Those greedy, oppressive sensations ignite heat in your chest, cocooning your senses from all sides.

“Do get up, dear,” Desire says. Their ruby red mouth shines when they speak, all teeth on display. Openly delighted. That’s as good a reason as any to bolt. Desire spins on a red, lustrous chair, golden sheen passing through their eyes. “You make for quite an unsightly view, rolling around on my floor like that.”

Rolling your eyes, you struggle up, wincing at the heavy sensation in your hand. “Give me a break,” you mutter, peeved.

Another slow spin. You hadn’t noticed the glass in Desire’s hand until they twisted the bright-coloured umbrella. “Whatever happened to your hand?”

You almost snap that it’s clear Desire doesn’t care—never cared—and this act will get them nowhere, but hold your tongue. In truth, you would like to pretend Desire does care. By now, though, you know better—learned better, the hard way.

“I got caught stealing,” you reply flatly. Standing up takes two attempts. You fish out an apple from your pocket, rubbing it on your thigh. Victorious even in defeat, you continue, “Fingers went first, then the hand. It should be back in working order in a few hours. Don’t give me that look. Do you know how uncomfortable it is to go without food for two weeks? It doesn’t kill me, sure, but it’s a pain. Literally.”

“Sounds positively awful.” Desire pops their chin in their palm, all gentle, beguiling words that make you bristle. Their features shimmer, blurring at the edges. You force yourself to squint to keep Desire’s face in shape. If your mind strays, Desire’s power will reflect that. “Shame Dream doesn’t do anything about it, isn’t it?”

Umbrella twists again, those words coy and low. A fine bait laid out in your path. You’re not sure if you should be offended Desire assumed you’d fall for such a cheap trick.

“Whatever you're cooking, leave me out of it,” you bite out.

You sound exhausted. There’s no escaping that. When faced with Desire, there’s no point in pretending otherwise or playing pretence. Once, that lack of facade is precisely why you believed Desire to be your friend. Once. But that was a long time ago. Back when you were a lot more naive and hopeful about making friends with only constants in your life.

“You’re becoming no better than him,” Desire whines irritably, falling dramatically back into their seat, legs crossing with an inpatient exhale. “So boring. I remember when you used to be fun.”

Your bloated fingers twitch at your side. Sluggish and fumbling. You can’t help but wince at the dull, gnawing discomfort. That never gets better. Years don’t alter how pain feels. Biting into your apple to keep yourself occupied, you stroll on unsteady feet around Desire’s gallery. Six sigils to call upon each sibling and a mirror where Desire’s own sigil should be. Your attention skims over Dream’s sigil, the helm, while you chew, your features softening.

“So do I.” Your words come out faint, scratchy. There’s no denying you’ve missed Desire or how good it once felt to find yourself here. Not the Dreaming—nothing could ever come close—but so much better than the human world, than Despair’s domain. Or Destiny’s. “I remember how much I looked forward to visiting you all the time. You had my trust, Desire. You had my friendship, too. Then you decided to use me as a puppet in your little pissing contest.”

And then you became no more than a pawn utilised in a battle between beings more powerful and older than Gods. It’s perhaps the first and only time you’ve seen Dream truly angry. Or close to it.

Desire stretches to their feet, dual shadow slithering, slow and treacherous, across the floor.

“Do not become arrogant, Wanderer.” Footsteps amble in your direction. Desire’s fingers trail every surface on the way. You bite your apple with extra force when Desire halts next to Dream’s sigil, grinning sharply. “There is still much you do not know about your precious Dream. You’re but a leaf caught in a hurricane. Oh, so simple to ruin. You’re too blind to his faults.”

The snide bitterness in those words forces your body towards the Endless. “Am I? Help me understand, then. Tell me what this is really about.”

Desire pivots your way, ponderous air shrouding them. Your heart catapults to your throat, fluttering. For a second, golden irises bleed into piercing, wintery blue; flaxen hair darkens to tar black, and your steps stutter to an abrupt halt. You blink forcefully, and Desire’s face morphs back to their usual appearance. The sudden chill in your bones doesn’t abate.

What do you see when you look my way? Desire had once posed, a long time ago.

You had sat curled on a hard, shiny settee, still more comfortable than you’d been in a human prison, held in chains for days. That’s why you told Desire the honest truth. At your description, Desire’s guileful grin had wilted. Their hand had dropped from your bruised cheek where they’d been soothing the throb, leaving only intent curiosity peering back.

You see me because you desire nothing I can offer. For I reflect whatever is your heart’s deepest, most secret desire.

Back then, you had mutually concluded even Desire could not reflect freedom. It’s an abstract concept that holds no human qualities after all.

But just now, you—

Desire cuts the remaining distance between you, cupping your face with delicate hands. Your head nudges upwards, meeting their sultry, golden stare. “I do not have to explain myself to you, gumdrop.” They lean closer, whispering into your ear, “Besides, your devotion to Dream runs too deep.”

The hold drops dismissively.

"That's fair enough." It's not your business. You're not arrogant enough to assume whatever rancour between the two siblings exists is anything you can fix. If you could, you would do so in a heartbeat. So instead, you nod, taking another bite to chase the vision from moments prior. "For old time's sake, keep me out of it. Please. I've had enough on my plate recently."

Desire’s head slants curiously to one side. “Do you imagine me a villain?”

The genuine question you hear there stuns you momentarily. Turning the half-eaten apple in your palm awkwardly, you shake your head. “No. I never did.”

But Desire can be cruel. Malicious and self-centred. You suppose it comes with the job. Desire is a tricky, loud emotion, insistent upon whomever it bears down on. Even standing here, in the Threshold, makes every emotion muddle and stumble all over each other in your chest.

Desire pauses by Dream’s sigil once more, considering it with a tut. Their hand hovers over the helm, their back to you, tracing imaginary patterns there. “You know what he is. Better than most. I need not do anything. One day, dear Dream will ruin this himself.” Desire peeks at you over their shoulder, golden light reflecting cruel and complacent. “All I’ll need to do is sit back, look gorgeous, and enjoy the show.”

Your jaw tenses. “Ruin what?”

Protectiveness coils in your chest, sudden and fierce, rearranging your features into a new colder composition.

Desire blinks. Then again. “Something is… different about you, Wanderer.” They push away from Dream’s helm, scrutinising you with a curious hum. “What form do I take when you gaze my way?”

Your jaw grinds harder, your teeth aching in their gums. “As yourself.”

Desire laughs. The sound is a soothing bath, silk on your skin, and fills your chest with a bloated, bubbling feeling. The Endless tuts, waggling their finger as if you’re a misbehaving child. “Liar, liar. I am many forms and many faces. What is self anyway? Oh, but this… this is… most intriguing.”

Your teeth sink in the apple again, ignoring Desire’s probing stare. “Are you done?” you mutter.

Desire rolls their eyes, strolling back towards their chair. “Fine. You know I’ll figure it out in the end. You can’t hide it from me.”

“While you do that, oh Great One, I need your help with something.”

Desire lets a disbelieving scoff escape their lips. “Oh? My help?” Their arms part in invitation. “Fine, I’ll bite. What is it that your dear little heart desires most?”

The Endless leans forward eagerly, an ever-shifting veil of desire and deceit cloaking them.

This time, you’re the one to grin, lifting your near useless appendage for inspection. “A ring. But not for me.”

This time, Desire's face lights up with gleeful delight, previous ire wiped entirely. Fickle, as always.

“Ah, at long last—something fun. Little Wanderer, always full of surprises.”

You are meant to fall, as you are meant to rise. It is how your destiny is written. There are no shortcuts.

Cracking your neck, you hop into the Dreaming with only a minor wince as punishment. Voluntarily travel, you’ve come to learn with centuries, significantly reduces discomfort. When you grasp whatever excessive, rotting power the curse has instilled in you, and yank on it.

Strolling up the stone bridge, you give passing figures brief smiles and greetings, heading towards Dream’s castle. Destiny’s cold, emotionless words stalk your every step, rubbing your emotions raw. Shortcuts, he says. As if you go prancing around a park. Giggle daily and skip around, smelling daisies. As if your entire existence is anything more than a sick joke.

You’re just…

Tired. So, so tired. Inextinguishable exhaustion nestless deep in your marrow.

Over six hundred years. One would think you’d gotten better at immortality. But as you continue your exhausted trek, you can’t help but consider a notion you never had before:

That, perhaps, humans are simply not made for eternity. At some point, the soul—the weight of it—merely becomes too much.

The Gatekeepers bow their heads at your approach, peering down at the one requesting entry. You can’t help but crack a smile. They can probably sense you the second you cut and drop yourself here, but still they insist on these ceremonies.

But the law is the law. And Ancient Rules are merciless, even to the Endless.

“Wanderer.”

Your sour mood brightens instantly.

"Lucienne." Your spirit lifts at your friend's appearance. "How are you?"

An arm drops suddenly around your shoulders from behind. There's no need to look behind you. He's as familiar as the Dreaming is, and the clothes on your back, as the tiny wooden figure safe in your pocket.

“She’s fine,” Corinthian announces cheerily, giving you a slight squeeze. “Can’t you see?”

You lean into him, selfishly grateful he’s shown up. Like a balm, your friends and the Dreaming wash away the weariness. Ease the weight without knowing it.

“Cori,” you greet dully.

Corinthian’s brows wiggle, his smirk dynamite. “Natural disaster on two legs.”

“Nevermind,” you grumble, stepping from his half embrace. “I’m leaving again.”

He catches you by the collar. “Don’t think so. We have company, don’t we, Lucienne? It would be rude.”

The librarian observes your exchange with perplexed curiosity, but her wariness around Corinthian hasn’t budged in centuries. No matter how highly you’ve spoken about him, Lucienne has never once regarded Corithina as anything other than a nightmare. A highly volatile one at that. One that should not be regarded so amiably.

Lucienne’s brows knit, suspicion glinting behind her circled glasses. “Where have you been, Corinthian?”

Your attention drifts to him. Corinthian shrugs nonchalantly beside you, not a care in the world evinced in his lazy half-grin.

“Around.”

There’s a tense, fraught moment where Lucienne seemingly teases over the idea of pushing further. Ultimately, she permits the matter to drop, turning towards you with her hands clasped behind her.

“Corinthian speaks the truth.” Smooth, stolid words directed solely at you. Pointedly so. “Lady Death is visiting the Dreaming.”

“Death is here?” Just when you thought today couldn’t get much better. “Where?”

Lucienne’s smile is reserved but happy. She gestures for you to follow, but you only manage a step before halting. Corinthian’s smile takes on a venomous edge when your gazes meet, but he shadows your step when you resume your trek.

As expected, you locate them in the throne room.

Dream and Death of the Endless are so overwhelming in their sheer presence even Corinthian draws inwards, his teeth gritted while he lingers behind you. Their presence is dampened, glossed over behind veneers in the waking world. But here, in Dream’s realm, where aspects of Death manifest as well, they are themselves in the truest sense.

The siblings walk side by side through the sprawling space, caught in deep conversation. Dream’s unruly dark hair steals your attention first. He’s pale and tall as he was three years ago—unchanging. You should take him to the waking world soon. You’re sure the tales humans are starting to spin about pale cave dwellers are solely based on him. Maybe you should ask Lucienne’s help to hunt the stories down in the library later.

However, Death’s ethereal, compassionate glow can never be mistaken for anything other than her. Your curse comes alive at her presence, shrivelling far and deep inside, and you instantly feel ten pounds lighter.

You catch Corinthian mouthing after Dream, mimicking his creator’s words mockingly. Your elbow lands promptly in his ribs.

“Stop that.”

Though your words are no more than a hissing whisper, Dream’s head snaps in your direction.

“Wanderer.”

Even this far away, it’s as if his voice has whispered the greeting directly into your ear. Deep and soft. However briefly, something cracks in his solemn expression, gone the next moment. Death veers in your direction, her arms parting for a hug.

A smile blooms across her face. “Look who it is.”

The warming fondness in her voice forms a knot in your chest. Your arms wrap tightly around her, that hard weight in your gut practically shivering in her presence. It gives you an immense pulse of cold satisfaction. You no longer fear death, not when it wears such a kind face, but it’s good to know the curse fears to be unmade.

“Death.”

Her arms are strong and comforting around you, so loving you remember weeping the first time she held you precisely like this. There’s a foolish second where you nearly whisper that you wish to go now. But Dream stands behind his sister, silent and alone, and you can’t. Not yet. For him, maybe never, or, at least, for however long this lasts.

Dream holds your gaze, a thousand questions and answers alive in those depths, and you smile faintly at him.

Death’s embrace loosens, but her hands settle on your arms, not quite letting go. “You look good. Better than last time.”

It’s a loaded statement. One that pins everyone’s attention squarely on you, barbing the room in unspoken tension. Death’s words can only ever be taken one way.

“Yeah, well, you know me,” you force out cheerily. “Rubber ball. I bounce back. Can I, uh, borrow you for a moment?”

Understanding creases Death’s face. “Of course.”

You shoot Corinthian a glance over your shoulder, nodding your head outside. He deciphers your silent message to meet him later, slanting his chin in response. Shoving his hands into his pockets, Corinthian strolls away without another word, whistling a short tune under his breath.

Dream’s stare bores into your head until Death leads you away and from anyone’s sight. The castle is so vast that you could spend an entire day exploring and only cover half of it. At best. You’ve tried.

“Is this about what happened with Destiny?”

Death’s question startles you from your thoughts, sending them scattering. A scowl carves into your face when you process her question.

“No.” Realising how defensive you sound, you shove your shoulders backwards, exhaling deep from your chest. “It’s… it’s actually about Destruction.”

Death traces her fingertips lightly over the pale marble wall while you walk. Her pitch doesn’t alter, and her strides don’t falter, but there’s a change. Death is old and powerful, and you can only guess what she’s thinking right now. “What about my brother?”

She’s carefully neutral, and that concerns you more.

“Has he… said anything to you? Recently?” you wonder awkwardly.

“He has not.”

It’s not an unkind response—she’s patient and gentle the same way she’s been since your first meeting, but…

“He’s just been… different. Lately.”

Or maybe Desire was right. You’re a leaf caught in a hurricane. The Endless don’t need you. You just so happen to be a constant in their endless existence. A stray they find amusing at best, an irritation at worst. Meddling with their affairs is stupid. What were you thinking?

“You love every unlovable thing that crosses your path, Wanderer,” Death says knowingly, slowing to a stop. Her dark eyes shine with compassion. “Sometimes I wonder if that’s your real curse.”

Won’t that be ironic?

Spotting your crestfallen expression, Death sighs softly. “But I will speak with my sibling. Thank you for informing me.”

You’re uncertain why such an awful, distinct sensation of dread suddenly curdles in your gut. “There’s a cause for worry, isn’t there?”

Death only says, “We’ll see.”

You haven’t realised the loop you’ve made until you find yourself back in the throne room. Dream sits perched on the stairs, his coat pooling like an ink stain around him. Lucienne is gone, too.

“Thank you,” you whisper to the Endless at your side. “Sorry I interrupted earlier.”

“Do not be,” Death dismisses lightly, a more humorous note entering her voice, “Though I believe a certain brother of mine is anxious to speak with you.”

Dream stands, waiting on his sister to guide her from his realm. Ever the gracious host.

“You’re leaving?” you blurt, aghast. “Already?”

Death brushes her hand across your cheek. “I have much to do. But you are always welcome in my lands.”

Except you don’t see her realm often. Usually, when you meet, it’s in the waking world. Diseases have been ravaging the world. Plagues are a truly horrid affair. Utterly relentless, always devastating.

“I’ll be seeing you, little brother,” Death says.

Dream dips his head low—a quiet display of affection and respect.

“Wanderer.”

With a wink in your direction, she’s gone with a rustle of wings. You breathe out, staring at the empty spot Death vacated.

“Three years, Wanderer.”

A shudder skitters down your spine. Each word tiptoes down your vertebrae one by one. You didn’t foresee Dream acknowledging the time apart at all, much less first.

“What?” You round to face him but avoid looking directly at him. Your cheery chuckle rings hollow. “Missed me? I missed you.”

God, you wish you didn’t. Not as much as you do. You suspect he sees right through your flippant words and straight into your heart. Tendons in Dream’s neck tighten, bunching and coiling beneath his pale skin. A fire scorches, but you’re not entirely sure what it means if anything. Something about how raw—downright undone—he appears for that split second rips clean through your heart.

And then it’s gone, all emotion wiped clean, as if it were never there. No more than a fleeting dream. The same collected, eternal being is all that’s left.

“My subjects are… fond of you,” he replies quietly, scratchy with— “It saddens them to have you away.”

His words reverberate through the space your bodies create.

“They’re my dearest friends, Dream,” you remind him, and every syllable resonates with naked sincerity and love. “Not a day goes by that I don’t miss them when I’m away. Or the Dreaming.”

Or you.

Dream comes closer. In between shadows and dreams that he considers his own. When you come face to face, that slight furrow once again creases the space between his brows.

“You are weary.”

You give him a slow, fond smile. “Forget about that. Sleep later. First, let’s go.”

“Where?”

Does it signify anything? That he asks to share in your adventure without a second thought? The formidable Dream King, the ruler of Nightmare realms, is here with you.

“To the Wanderer Island. To the library.” You shrug, digging your back heels in with purpose, half-turned already. “Everywhere. I’m home, and I want to enjoy it.”

“Home,” Dream repeats with a faint exhale, so quiet you almost miss it.

And as you spin to go, you could have sworn you catch a glimmer of a tiny smile on Dream’s face.

an: and the stage is set.

once again, sorry for an extra messy chapter. I'll be away (but around, checking in when I can) and enjoy dream/wanderer being pining idiots : D everything from the next part onwards is gonna be kermitjump.jpg

thoughts? ideas? theories? let me know, and thank you for reading!!!

#the sandman #sandman x reader #netflix sandman #dream x reader #morpheus x reader #morpheus x fem!reader #dream x fem!reader #the sandman x reader #the sandman spoilers #the corinthian #death of the endless #desire of the endless #tom sturridge #fic: today i bury you in me

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chericarlisle · 8 months

Note

you come home for summer break from college and meet your dad’s best friend carlisle cullen for the first time at family dinner and mans is 🤤🥵😍

Just a Summer Thing || c.c

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: carlisle cullen x human female reader

(𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝)

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.6k

𝐚/𝐧: i haven’t been on tumblr in about two years. y’all i literally couldn’t even navigate this new format of the app, so needless to say my writing is rusty and my formatting is shit. i’ve literally never seen some of these requests in my inbox until now i’m so sorry 😭

for the sake of this story we are just gonna pretend that carlisle doesn’t light up like a bottle of glitter in the sun.

For many, the most exciting part of graduating is the freedom that comes with the college experience; however, after almost a year of no privacy and very loud neighbors, you begin to miss home. Suddenly graduating high school is not the most exciting part, but rather it is coming back home from college for summer break.

Finals week had kicked everyone’s asses and after celebrating such a survival, many college students- yourself included- eagerly packed up their 290 sq ft. rooms to return to much larger ones.

You and your roommate, Mel, had helped each other pack up the first day that finals were over. Mel had become a pretty good friend over the past year, but she unfortunately had to live on the opposite coast. It seemed that things always worked out that way for you for just about anything.

Your parents had finally divorced when you were sixteen which sent one parent to the west coast and the other to the east. The same could be said about a package of jeans that you had ordered; each one coincidentally ended up on the opposite sides of the United States.

Since your mother was taking a sojourn around the world, you were going to stay with your dad in Forks for the summer. He had recently moved to the new city after receiving a job offer from the city’s barren hospital. The job came with great pay, but most importantly a wonderful modernist house resting on the eaves of the forest. The exact words being from the realtor who had so eagerly sold your father on the house. Despite the fact that the house was a lavish build in the middle of nowhere, it was only fair that your father finally lived happily. The man had been living in an unhappy marriage for so many years; it was something that you all could attest to.

You had stayed at his house a few times before in the fall and winter, yet you hoped that summer would vanish the melancholy atmosphere of Forks. If it wasn’t raining, then it was snowing and vice versa. It seemed that there was always something falling from the sky in Forks almost year-round.

Your hopes for a glowing summer at your father’s were assured when you arrived at his house surrounded by not a single cloud. It was about a six hour drive before you arrived in the town, and you noticed that the sun does in fact shine in Forks after all.

“(Y/n), you made it!” Your father came running out of the front door, although it was impossible to not notice him since more than half his house was made of glass.

You put the car in park and stepped out to meet the man in an embrace. His usual cologne was overpowered by the smell of the hospital disinfectant that lingered on his white lab coat. “Dad! It’s been too long.”

He nodded in agreement before offering to help you unload your car. The upside of living in a dorm room that was about the size of a large bathroom is that one can’t accumulate too many boxes. You popped the trunk to reveal about six medium sized boxes that consisted simply of clothes and dorm room decor.

Your dad chuckled at your down sizing, “That’s all you got, kiddo? Wow, college really has changed you! Where’s my girl that moved in with a gazillion boxes?”

“I could say the same about you, Dad. Living in this giant fishbowl and all, I would’ve thought that you’d have more furniture.” You jested at him as the two of you began to pick up the few boxes.

He set down a box and placed his hands on his hips, “Well how would you know that? You haven’t even stepped inside yet!”

Closing the trunk you jokingly shook your head, “Like I said, fishbowl.”

Your dad helped you unpack your meager amount of belongings. He made the bed with the new mattress while you hung up your clothing in the empty closet. Even though you had visited last year when he had first moved in, this house and its furniture still felt foreign. The newly constructed home aroma still lingered in the air.

“So Dad, how’s work?” Mindlessly rearranging the hangers, you decided to organize the closet for the second time.

“It’s going pretty well actually,” He smoothed out the plush comforter before continuing, “I’ve gotten close with some of the other doctors and I was actually thinking of inviting them and their families over tomorrow for a barbecue.”

You hummed a response while continuing to sort the hanging clothes, for you were not opposed to the idea of a barbecue. It had been so long since you’d had any good food that wasn’t from the dining halls.

“You know you were right, (y/n). The sun does actually shine in Forks!” Your dad chuckled once more before excusing himself to go make phone calls to his friends from the hospital.

—-

The next day, despite that there was a small chance for rain, Mother Nature held out and it seemed to be for the better. There would be plenty of time for rain in the months that occurred after August.

Your dad had opened up the pool because what’s a barbecue without a pool party? Slipping on a yellow sundress over a swimsuit, you went downstairs to help with the food preparation. The kitchen counters were covered in various packages of bread as well as hamburgers and hotdogs waiting to be grilled. Everyone was set to arrive around one o’clock, and it was currently two hours before then. The time crunch was apparent as your dad ran around the kitchen frantically trying to man the stovetop and the ovens. Between the combined work of both you and your dad, lunch was prepped right as the visitors began walking in.

Last night, your dad had told you that he was inviting a few coworkers and their families, but you had no idea that it would turn out to be so many people. The backyard was brimming with young kids running around the pool while their parents socialized over drinks in the vast plot of grass. While your dad grilled the main course for lunch, he had you welcome everyone at the front door. Most of them were doctors, but a few were nurses. Regardless, they all came with either spouses, kids, or both.

Except one doctor stood out very much, for he came alone. You were not only stunned by his lack of family, but also how perfectly styled his light blonde hair was. His hair somehow managed to contrast his flawless skin that seemed even paler. Not a single strand fell forward and covered his golden eyes that crinkled as he wore a polite smile. One hand sturdily held a case of beer, presumably for the party, while the other reached out to greet you.

“Hello, you must be (y/n). I’m Carlisle Cullen. Your dad talks about you a lot at the hospital.” The man squeezed your hand gently in a friendly manner before letting his own drop to the side.

“Wow, I just got here and I’ve already got a reputation. Hope he says good things about me.” You reached out to take the case of beer from him, but he insisted on carrying it himself like a gentleman. Most of the guests had just thrown their things at you, so this was a nice change of treatment.

“Only good things, of course.” He nodded.

You gestured Dr. Cullen to come inside and he followed behind you, waving to the couple of guests that were mingling indoors.

“So Dr. Cullen, are you the one who hired my dad? Your name sounds vaguely familiar.” The two of you were nearing the backyard, and your dad waved you both over through the screen door.

“Your father had an impressive resume and we desperately needed that kind of help around the hospital. And please, call me Carlisle.” He turned around to smile at you before making his way over to your dad who wore the grin of a five year old standing in a candy store. The two seemed to be talking a mile a minute as if they had not just seen each other at work. It was apparent that Dr. Cullen was your dad’s closest confidant in the hospital.

Sitting on one of the lounge chairs, you began to feel the rays of the sun harshly beaming down like a spotlight. The heat was becoming unbearable, so you slipped off the yellow sundress to reveal a teal bikini that was a gift from Mel. Everyone was either preoccupied with their friends or family and couldn’t have cared less, except one man who stood by your father at the grill.

Dr. Cullen, an untouched beer in hand, was walking over towards you. A smirk painted his lips, but you knew behind those sunglasses there was a playful glimmer in his eyes. Your father was so preoccupied with his role as grill master that he didn’t even notice that the doctor had walked off.

“Now, Dr. Cullen, why aren’t you out there socializing with your peers?” You playfully pulled down your sunglasses to peer at the man who had leisurely taken a seat on the lounge chair beside you.

“Well, Ms. (y/l/n), I see these people every day,” He gestures to the mass of people surrounding the yard, “but it’s not every day that I get to talk to you.”

You stifled a giggle at his poor attempt to flirt, “Do you get many girls with that line, Doc?”

He shook his head, laughing at his own poorly planned pick-up line. “Apparently, I’ve been out of practice for a while, sweetheart.”

Leaning the back of the lounge up, you turned to sit and face him. The chairs were positioned so closely that your knees hit his, yet neither of you moved. Barely leaning in, your lips ghosted against the shell of his ear. The smell of mint clouded your senses being so close to the man who was as still as a statue.

“We’ll see about that.” Breathlessly, the words left your lips as you leaned further to grab his untouched beer and take a confident swig.

You leaned back to see that his face was not shocked, but rather smug. If he had been stunned by your receptiveness, then it surely wasn’t obvious now as he seemed unphased. It was more obvious that a challenge had been accepted.

Just as he was about to continue the banter, your dad hurriedly ran over to the both of you. He was covered in one of those cheesy grilling aprons and desperately waving around the tongs in his hand. “Hey, would you guys mind grabbing some paper plates and cups? We ran out, but there should be some in the closet upstairs. I’ve got just about a million more burgers to cook.”

You looked at Dr. Cullen who just shrugged in return. Agreeing to help, you both stood and began to walk back to the house. Your father, pleased with the answer, ran off to continue to man the grill and the line that was beginning to form.

Dr. Cullen seemed to trail behind aimlessly, so you grabbed his hand without second thought. Once you were inside, you eagerly led him up the stairs and to the hallway where the closet was.

Just like everything else in this house, the hallway closet was unnecessarily elaborate in its design. It was no towel closet, but more like the size of a whole bathroom itself. You walked in once the barn door slid open and Dr. Cullen flicked on the lights.

For a man who lived by himself, your father stored a lot in the closet that would make you think he had a family of ten living with him. You scanned the endless shelves as did Dr. Cullen, but the plates and cups appeared on your side first.

“Found ‘em.” Of course the supplies had to be on the very top shelf which appeared to be closer to the sky than you. It wasn’t until you were on tippy toes trying to reach the items that you were aware of leaving your sundress downstairs by the pool.

And it wasn’t until Dr. Cullen stepped behind you, that you were aware of how chills racked your body.

“Need some help there?” A cold hand rested on your bare waist as you turned your head ever so slightly to be met with Dr. Cullen who tauntingly looked down at your lips. Without shame, he continued to admire your pillowy soft lips before you gave in.

Fruitless attempts to get the supplies were damned as you threw your arms around his neck to deepen the kiss. You pulled him down as he pulled you closer; neither of you wanting to let go. His one hand on your neck slid up to cup your jaw, slightly turning your head to expose your neck. For a brief moment, his lips disconnected from yours, but only to make their way further down. The man slowly moved his free hand from your waist to delicately brush your hair off your shoulder. His lips connected with your neck as he kissed a slow line down to your collarbone.

“God, Dr. Cullen,” You threaded your fingers through his hair as he mercilessly continued on, “You don’t seem that out of practice to me.”

For a split second he stopped his maneuvers only to correct you once more, “Please, call me Carlisle.”

So overcome with pleasure, his name breathlessly rolled off your lips and you only pulled yourself closer to him. Moving your hands from his hair, you began to blindly fiddle with the buttons on his shirt as he continued to nip at the sweet spot where your shoulder met your neck. His skilled fingers began to play with the strings of your bikini top that held it together.

He murmured while trying to slow his movements, “Sweetheart, I don’t think I can stop, but I don’t want to do this here.” His efforts to stop were becoming forgotten as he took in the sweet smell of your perfume that painted your skin and tempted him more. “You deserve something thoughtful, not a heated moment in a closet.”

You quickly pulled back and he seemed shocked, for he mistook your adoration for insult. His eyes scanned your face for any inkling of meaning before your lips reconnected with his in a hurried passion which instantly cleared his confusion.

Meanwhile, downstairs, your dad noticed the absence of paper plates and cups. He didn’t come to think of where you might have run off with them, but he instead took initiative to find them himself. Not a single thing could’ve prepared the man for the sight that he would see once he made it to the top of the stairs and down the hall.

Without a care in the world, your dad slid open the heavy barn door to not only find the missing supplies, but to also find his daughter pressed up against the shelves and lip locked to Dr. Cullen. The faint sound of someone uttering their shock caused you and Carlisle to separate. Your father stood in the doorway frozen in shock before Carlisle instinctively jumped in front of you to cover any indecencies.

After what felt like the longest minute of your life, your dad awkwardly cleared his throat before speaking. “I’ll uh just grab some paper plates next door.”

As your father scrambled off, Carlisle turned around to plant a kiss on your forehead, "Like I said, we can do this somewhere else."

a/n: i haven't posted on tumblr in so long this feels so weird 😭 please like and repost! REQUESTS ARE CLOSED (these are ones from years ago lol)

#carlisle x reader #carlisle cullen fanfiction #twilight carlisle #carlisle cullen x reader #carlisle cullen #twilight fanfiction #twilight

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kaeyx · 6 months

Note

Finally thought of a mean scenario with catzai scratch that mabye in a little sadistic

Just neglect him. THATS LITERALLY IT

Refusing to touch dazai or even to acknowledge his existence at first he’d not care thinking you’d give up this silly little game of yours and you’ll give in and start loving him again.

Weeks went by without your touch he was going crazy. Keeps humping your pillows but nothing is satisfying him how are you gonna leave him to deal with his heat? You’re so mean!

As he went to go complain to you and meow his ass off he sees that your no where to be seen. At first he thinks you’ll come back. but days went by and you weren’t here. Poor boy was crying and crying thinking it was finally it. Everything he loves is always lost. he breaks down in tears thinking of how idiotic he is thinking someone as disgusting as him can have someone as pure as you.

He then hears the door open after a hours of crying til he ran out of tears and when you stepped in he immediately latched onto you saying how he’s so sorry and please please! Never leave him ever again!

You gently pull his hair towards your face and coo degrading words in a sweet tone saying how pathetic he is without you while hovering your lips against his and finally kissing him roughly while he’s still crying and clinging onto you so you don’t disappear again.

Y e s that's literally all you have to do

Ignore him for a few days? Okay he'll get whiny, he'll try to claw at you, then get annoyed. Trying to catch your attention by doing and wearing provocative things, wriggling his way into your lap or trying to kiss you. Then it slowly dawns on him that you really aren't budging, that you're living your life like he's not there. No kisses, no sex, no cuddles, no cooking food for him or making space on the couch for him, no calling him into your room to cuddle at night. You're pretending to live alone, like he doesn't even exist, and you're sticking to your guns. Going out with friends or on errands without telling him or asking if he wants to tag along, so sometimes he wakes up to an empty house with no idea where you are or when you'll be back. It wears him down a lot.

It gets to him eventually, especially when his heat hits and nothing changes. Catzai is constantly humping your pillows and scratching the furniture, digging shamelessly in your hamper to find clothes that smell like you, anything to mimic the feeling of you being there and paying attention to him. You're gone again and he doesn't know when you'll be back so he's rutting against your mattress and crying your name, he's never been so horny in his life but somehow he can't quite seem to cum right. He finishes again and again with no real relief, spurting out pathetic little ropes of white that do nothing to drain his heavy, aching balls. He doesn't even notice you coming in and staring at him with a grin on your face, just keeps humping and grinding and crying weakly.

Gahhhh he'd be soooo cute like that, pretty brown eyes glazed over when he finally hears you and looks up, panting and flushed and drooling. As soon as you lay your hands on him he's whining and digging his claws into you, sobbing freely into your shirt and begging for you to stay. He's too far gone to even register all the mean things you say to him, too busy slotting one of your legs between his to hump. Cums finally as he cries, getting both of you messy, but he doesn't stop. Tearing at your clothes until he can sink into your tight heat or fuck himself on your cock, scratching up your back as he drags you onto the bed.

#dazai.bsd #dazai x reader #dazai smut #cat!dazai

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sssammich · 4 months

Note

Platonic breakfast ritual (prompt)

oh what's up anon thanks for sending me this prompt

you didn't give me a ship so i just picked my own to write for so hope it's cool i wrote it for swan queen. if not, just come back and i'll do something else haha

thanks!

---

It’s temporary, this thing. This current arrangement that they have while Emma finds a new place to live away from the loft—cramped and cacophonous; too full a house with a new baby. She doesn’t think too deeply about how she feels about it, pretends her heart doesn’t throb and ache at being displaced and replaced once again. It's a noxious thought to keep, so she does her best to clear it out of her.

So, yes. The arrangement to stay at the mansion until she sorts out her affairs. Yet Emma is not exactly rushing to end it. Not when the choreography of her waking hours brings about a certain comfort that she does not want to relinquish, happening in a place that devastatingly feels more like home than she has ever felt in all the decades of her life. In a place that isn’t hers to claim, but for now she’ll pretend because the walls are present and the sheets are soft.

It is inconveniently pleasant to wake up rested at Regina’s house in one of her massive guest bedrooms. It is even more so when she languidly makes her way down the stairs and towards the kitchen where she first gets a whiff of food being made, and the lingering scent of coffee in the air. The rest of her senses catches up to her when she hears whatever Regina is cooking just as she inevitably sees Henry already sitting in front of his breakfast plate, fork in one hand and comic book in the other as if it’s the morning newspaper.

“Good morning, Ma,” he offers, his eyes never once straying from the page. She shakes her head, but greets him in turn.

“Morning.” Then, she casts her eyes up at Regina and offers her a smile. “Good morning, Regina.”

“Good morning, dear.” Regina accompanies her gentle morning greeting with an offered plate brimming with food right in front of the seat that Emma has deemed as hers during her stay. Despite Regina’s frequent comments about Emma’s abhorrent appetite and etiquette, she’s there enabling Emma with a full plate. Emma notices, of course, but doesn’t say anything for fear that Regina will change and give her one less hash brown in the stack.

Still, even as her mind slowly eases into the morning, she doesn’t immediately take her seat at the table. Instead, she heads towards the coffee bar—which is literally just the far end of the kitchen counters where there’s one of those fancy single-serve coffee machines. She sets to brewing herself a cup since that’s the only machine she’s allowed to touch; the Italian espresso machine beside it is off limits. For the best, Emma thinks.

Once her coffee is done, Emma lets the mug sit to the side and plucks another mug out of the cupboard, repeating the steps, waiting quietly while the machine cranks and whirrs and gurgles before the dark sea of coffee fills the new mug. It is the first full cup that Regina has in the morning, the first dose of caffeine coming from the espresso machine that Regina handles herself upon rising. Emma only skirts the edges of her thoughts at what it means to have Regina trust her to make her first cup of coffee for the day. Yet on that first morning she'd received the request, Regina only arched a brow and exasperated teasingly, "surely, you can't completely flub up making coffee."

Emma doesn’t move in place, uncharacteristically settled on her feet, her arms folded across her chest as she waits. Not wanting to break the tranquil silence, she doesn’t say anything, and neither do the others in the kitchen. It’s a quiet morning, but comfortable and companionable. Normally when things are too quiet, she gets restless as if she must fill the space herself or excuse herself entirely. But the last week at Regina’s place has given her more peace than she’d gotten in months, and she hates that by the end of this upcoming week, it’ll be gone again. Still, she doesn’t think too hard on this.

For now, she grasps both the filled mugs and places them on their respective placemats as she’s done almost everyday this week. She sits in her chair and she waits until Regina does the same. She offers the other woman a shy grin, perhaps more tender than she’d intended (she’ll simply blame the morning hours for it if pushed) and Regina returns it, the gentle smile across Regina’s face splitting her face so beautifully.

The three of them sit like a family that Emma has always wished for and eat breakfast together.

#swanqueen #swan queen #swan queen ficlet #fic prompt #i reckon if anybody else has a prompt they're free to send it my way lol #samfic

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