#confused moth noises (crack)

[whiteswarm]

"There's a fucking pirate clown here staring at me. I don't like it..."

#into the air (ic) #confused moth noises (crack)

[ellieswifie]

hi!! i wondering if you could do a matt fic based off of the song “all too well (10 minute version)” by taylor swift? maybe it can take place a few moths after the reader and matt’s breakup? i love your writing btw!

︿︿ ੈ [ ☕️ ] ༉‧₊˚✧

all too well tmv | matt sturniolo

♪ all too well tmv - taylor swift

summary: you and matt were happy, but push comes to shove and years later you guys see each other’s future and your not in it. (ft. all too well 10 minute version short film.)

warnings: matt!exboyfriend x fem!reader, no happy ending (i’m sorry guys!), shouting, cursing, little gore, toxic relationship , use of y/n (once), the other woman

authors note: so this has been the drafts since august bc i don't think it's one of my best works. i tried my best to incorporate the film to this fic as best as i could but i believe i failed. i’m glad you enjoy my content, and i hope you enjoy this too!! ps!! i skipped some lyrics so don’t get too confused haha.

˗ˋ.*✧·˚ ೃ࿔₊•

an upstate escape, past

your walking hand in hand with your boyfriend, matt as you walk through the door of his parents house. it was freezing outside mid october. leaves were falling, air was cold, everything felt perfect.

"i walked through the door with you, air is cold. something about it felt like home."

matt’s head turned to you while he untwined your hands and rushed to turn the heater on. the house was quiet as you followed matt towards the living room where he lit a fresh fire in the fireplace.

you couldn’t help but smile at his face noticing how quickly he was to turn the fireplace on. his face grew flushed as you reached for the scarf hanging around your neck to place it on the near by couch.

“and i, left my scarf there at your sister's house and you've still got it in your drawer even now"

before kneeling down besides your boyfriend and wrapping your cold hands around him.

"warm enough?" he whispered, rubbing his hands towards the fire.

you nodded, kissing his cheek. a cheeky smile spreading against my face.

there isn’t much to do in small town boston. going into city causes loud noises and angry drivers, two options why you and matt decided taking a stroll through the woods is a better idea. matt grew up going to this creek that wasn’t too far away from where he lived. he enjoyed growing there with his brothers and old time friends.

you’ve met chris and nick several times before you and matt called things official. you admired how funny chris was, and how quick nick is at speaking his mind.

and matt. you lived just about anything matt said. the smallest things he’d say or do made you smile and stare at him like he was everything to you. and he was. he was everything you needed and cared about always.

"oh, your sweet disposition. and my wide-eyed gaze"

"so when’s nick and chris coming up?" you asked as you sat in the passenger seat while matt drove. his eyes were focused on the road ahead, attempting to find a parking spot or somewhere to park before the two of you started your trail.

"umm chris said sometime later tonight. but it’s chris he’ll probably not be leaving til tonight." matt replied, switching through the radio stations. you nodded your head, watching him. he turns and smiles at you before reaching for your hand once he’s found a good song on the radio.

"we're singing in the car, getting lost upstate."

your eyes tore from matt’s as you tightened your hold on his hand. nothing with matt felt real. it was incredible how the air felt so crisp and clean, the way the wind in your hair caused goosebumps along your skin. the leaves falling down like december snow.

it was like heaven with matt.

"autumn leaves falling down like pieces into place. and i can picture it after all these days."

the first crack in the glass

when matt asked you if you wanted to meet his friends, you were immediately excited at first. you already knew some of the kids he grew up with in the past, but meeting his new youtube friends seemed exciting, but also incredibly nerve racking.

you all sat at a large dinner table seated for eight while matt, nick, and chris and all their friends sat around it. you were seated beside matt as you listened in on what the group was talking about. majority of the group was doing big things.

it was youtube, music, podcast, etc.

but you. you were just you. continuing your major in college, just shaking your head when someone mentioned if we’re getting into social media.

matt and you knew social media wasn’t in the pictures for you, but you lived what matt was doing with his life and supported him and his brothers channel.

you listened as nick and chris called matt out for all of his silly childhood behaviors. you couldn’t help but laugh at your boyfriends flushed face when his brothers started pulling out pictures of him from when he was younger.

"photo album on the counter. your cheeks were turning red. Your cheeks were turning red. You used to be a little kid with glasses in a twin-sized bed."

his friends all around laugh for a long moment, before bringing out more social media career opportunities. it made you feel out of place, unwanted. your eyes looked towards matt while he continued listening to one of his friends talk about touring. you wanted to feel matthew’s comfort in any shape or form, but his eyes were glued to anything but you.

you groaned, picking at the food in front of you, thinking about some of past conversations you’ve had with matt. every little conversation ending in sweet "i love you’s" or meaningful kisses. you just loved that about him. you loved his love language was always physical touch and affection.

"and your mother’s telling stories ’bout you on the tee-ball team. you told me ’bout your past thinking your future was me."

so you did what any girl who wanted comfort would do. you reached to hold your boyfriends hand, but his body jerked slightly, placing your palm back on the table where it was before. he patted softly, pissing you off, but crowding your thoughts with sadness. you couldn’t believe what just happened.

you felt embarrassed.

you just wanted to walk out right then and there, and leave. but you just sat there, staring at it hand for a long moment before meeting eyes with your boyfriend. he sent you a smile which made you more angry.

so you turned your body away from him, making yourself feel invisible.

"you taught me 'bout your past, thinkin' your future was me.”

"hey your quiet.." you heard matt whisper behind you as you tossed the remaining dishes from your guest into the sink. "what’s up?"

you wanted to ignore him so bad. you felt childish for getting mad over something so small and meaningless, but you just felt so out of place and angry. it just felt like he didn’t care. like you were a ghost.

"he's gonna say it's love, you never called it what it was."

"nothing." you hissed back, scrubbing the dish a little too hard. "i’m just tired."

your boyfriend nodded, moving around the kitchen to place a soft kiss against your forehead. "i’m tired too, dinner was good."

"yeah, sure whatever."

matt head darted toward your annoyed tone. he was finally catching on. “what’s wrong with you?"

the breath that escaped your lips was heavy. you wanted to shove your arms at his chest and shout and scream at how angry he made you feel, but you couldn’t snap the cord, not yet.

"nothing. i’m fine."

"you sound pissed and far from fine." he repsoned, leaning against a counter, across from where you stood, back turned.

"i’m not pissed, i’m just-" the plate in your hands shattered, making a loud clattering noise. you gasped, a large piece of glass scraping against your palm, causing blood to drip. "shit." you hissed, immediately grabbing the cloth.

"'til we were dead and gone and buried. check the pulse and come back swearing it's the same."

"fuck-" matt curses under his breath. walking toward you, but you placed your steady hand towards his chest, stopping him.

"and then you wondered where it went to as I reached for you. but all I felt was shame…"

"i’m fine." you argued. matt stepped back watching your eye brows draw together in anger. "just- why do you have this fucking problem with me when we are around people? it makes my skin crawl."

matt grew confused watching you. "problem? what are you talking about, babe?"

you nearly laughed at his comment. he knew exactly what you were talking about. it’s like he has this on and off switch. when your together, alone he’s obsessed with you. buying you gifts, loving you, he only has eyes on you. when you guys are in public, with friends it’s like he’s distracted, never noticing your there.

like at dinner…

"oh i don’t know, maybe the fact you dropped my fucking hand in front of everyone. then send me a smile like it didn’t happen."

matt stood still, watching you grow angry. he didn’t know what to say. that he’s sorry? no that’s just pathetic and a dick move.

"i’ve never felt so out of place, matt. it was like i was invisible, sitting in a room crowded of people." you confessed, letting the blood bleed through your towel.

"i look like a fool." you frown, noticing that the cloth isn’t helping and your just ranting.

matt switch turned back on, rushing to grab a larger cloth from the stove, placing it onto your hand. his eyes met yours as he shook his head. "your not a fool."

"i’m a fool." he whispered, looking at the wound. "the one girl i care most in the world felt uncomfortable and hurt and i was an asshole for not even noticing. i didn’t mean to drop your hand. i was distracted and just was being a dick. i’m sorry."

you just stared, watching him closely. his eyes were apologetic and his words seemed like they had some meaning, but you just weren’t sure.

"okay…" you whispered.

"i mean it. i’m sorry. your the only person i care about. you know that right?” you shrug, just nodding. "okay. good."

you both starred at the space between you guys, before matt mutters "come here", wrapping his large arms around you. "i really am sorry." he whispers against your hair and you just nod.

"and you held my lifeless frame."

"i know." you respond licking you lips. "it’s okay."

are you real?

"'cause there we are again in the middle of the night"

a smirk placed on your face as you held a single uno card up to your face. you had a plan, one the was currently working. you played your weakest card, so your now holding your strongest one, just about to win.

matt wasn’t too far from you, he had four in his hands, taking forever to take his turn.

"we’ve been playing since six matthew. it’s three." you giggle, wanting him to just play a card so you can win.

“wait your turn pretty girl, i’m thinking."

you blushed at his comment, narrowing your eyes at his lips pressed together, before you lock eyes with the cards.

"pretty girl?" you teased, twirling your hair with your free hand.

"yeah," matt whispered, placing the cards face down on the table. "you are very pretty."

you moved the hair tangling in your hair to poke his nose playfully. "thank you… but it’s still your turn boy. go."

matt held his hands up in defense, before placing down a plus four. but you weren’t fazed. you stared at the card, before stacking your draw four ontop of his. you giggled at his stunned reaction before jumping up from the table and dancing in his face.

"i win!! loserrr…" you teased, before matt snaps, and grabs you by your hips, spinning you around. you laugh at the sweet touch before wrapping your arms around his neck.

"you definitely cheated." he replies, swaying your hips as you guys began slow dancing in the middle of the kitchen.

"we’re dancing 'round the kitchen in the refrigerator light."

it’s dark, but you can see the light in matt’s eyes when his hands fully sneak around your waist, pulling you closer.

he looks beautiful in the light it’s impossible to look away from him. he’s smiling and his cheeks are a small tint of red.

"i’m no cheater," you whisper. his brows raise for moment, before he lifts your arms, spinning you like a princess.

"down the stairs, i was there. i remember it all too well."

"and there we are again when nobody had to know."

you bit the inside of your cheek as you stood behind matt, hand holding his behind his back. his head glanced down at you smiling, before he turned back towards his brothers nodding and listening.

you hated how this was how things was. you felt secretive, hidden, unaware of. you just stood in matt’s shadow always.

"you kept me like a secret, but I kept you like an oath.”

"what about you?" you heard nick say to you, lifting your head to face him. "tacos or burgers?" he asked, smiling.

matt rubbed his finger along the back of your hand, waiting for your answer.

you lips licked before smiling at them. "tacos?"

matt kissed your head, smiling at your answer, before slipping away from your hand. "tacos it is!"

"sacred prayer and we'd swear. to remember it all too well, yeah

the breaking point

when you wanted to ask matt to come over, your intentions was to hangout with your boyfriend and cuddle up along the couch. but when you opened the door and watched him linger there, you knew something was off.

his poster was low, his eyes seemed dark, he didn’t look himself.

you held the door waiting for him to walk in, kiss you numerous times, but he stood, quiet.

"well, maybe we got lost in translation, maybe i asked for too much."

"hey is everything okay?" you asked, forcing a smile. you stepped forward and matt backed away slightly, reaching his hand to his ear to scratch. you notice these small ticks. he only ever did it when he felt uncomfortable or nervous. you never made him feel either of those things through your entire relationship so seeing him now made your heart sink.

"but maybe this thing was a masterpiece 'til you tore it all up."

"i’m fine- can we talk?" he asked, voice shaky, hands moving to shove in his pockets. you head turned to look over his shoulder. your neighborhood was walking into her apartment with her significant other, giggle and matt followed his glaze, tilting his head down. "please?"

"runnin' scared, I was there. i remember it all too well."

your head shook for a moment, bringing yourself back in time. "sure." you muttered, stepping from the door, hands feeling shaky. you moved towards the long couch, taking a seat as matt made his way in front of you, standing. your head looked up at him while he looked around your apartment.

it was cleaner, more decorative. you spent all of yesterday making the place look nice for matt, but seeing the expression on his face, you hated yourself for changing the place.

"the place look really nice." matt said, glancing at the pillows and blankets laid against the couch.

you ignored him, looking at your hands. "what do you want to talk about?"

"and you call me up again just to break me like a promise. so casually cruel in the name of bein' honest."

matt looked back towards you, kneeing down on his knees to sit in front of you. you looked at his face, seeing his eyes wonder anywhere but yours. he’s always distracted. "i wanted to talk about us…"

your breathing picked up as he placed his hands on your thighs, reaching for your shaky fingers. "i love you so much." he says, meeting your eyes. "your important to me and i want you to be happy always."

you waited for the but. there’s always a but.

he intertwined your fingers, looking at how small your hand looked in his. "but things between us have been off." he whispers, and you look away from his face, staring straight ahead. your eyes felt watery, but you weren’t going to cry. not in front of him. "and i know you’ve noticed, because filming and the podcast and everything really."

his voice gradually got quiet as you felt him just listing out excuses.

"i’m a crumpled-up piece of paper lyin’ here. 'cause I remember it all, all, all."

"matt stop-" you chocked out, stopping him immediately. your fingers slipped out of his and you kept staring away from him. "just stop."

"they say all's well that ends well, but i’m in a new hell everytime. you double-cross my mind."

he pushed back slightly, watching your watery eyes drop to his face. "this isn’t love." you whisper. "love is magic. it’s happy and healthy and you fight for love. you don’t push someone away because it’s getting too hard."

"i’m not pushing you out i’m-"

"matt you saying things have been off. we can work though off. if you care for me you’d fight for me."

"i’m doing what i think is best for you." "you said, "i think we should stop seeing each other."

"and that made me want to die."

"seeing each other? matthew what the fuck." you stood, causing matt’s eyes to lift you and follow you. he rose from his knees, standing up in front of you. "we’ve been dating for years matt and you think we’re just seeing each other?"

"no-" he quickly said, tilting his head down. "that’s not what i meant- you know what u mean."

"the idea you had of me, who was she?" a never-needy, ever-lovely jewel whose shine reflects on you."

"no matthew i don’t. you’ve been off. not us, you. it’s like your some switch where you don’t act like yourself when we’re with other people. it feels like i’m clinging to a fucking shadow. and i’m sick of it."

"not weepin' in a party bathroom, some actress askin' me what happened, you. that’s what happened, you"

"you don’t mean that." he breathed. "you’ve just been distant to us and it’s confusing me."

your nose scrunched as you stared at him. you were done you hated what was happening and it made your stomach twist, but you knew what had to be down. "matt get out."

his eyes widened and you were quite surprised yourself. "what?"

"i said get out." you said once more, but quieter and more hesitant.

"i wanted to talk, not us completely cut off communication."

"you’ve said and done enough." you whisper, looking at his eyes. "you want to stop seeing each other, then leave."

and so he did. just walking out, not hesitating.

the reeling

"time won't fly, it's like i’m paralyzed by it. i’d like to be my old self again, but i’m still tryin' to find it."

picking up the phone, you stared at the black screen for several long seconds. you weren’t happy. you were absolutely miserable, laying in your bed til twelve, falling asleep til three, you were unlike yourself and growing unhealthy.

it’s only been a month or two since your harsh break up and you couldn’t help longing for a message or a call from him, but you knew it wasn’t happening. you knew he was happier, healthier. and it made you want to die.

"after plaid shirt days and nights when you made me your own. now you mail back my things and i walk home alone."

you finally turned on the phone, opening instagram and searching up his instagram. his posts hasn’t changed since you checked, his inactive on his insta. which didn’t bother you, it made you feel a sense of comfort.

you then open his shared account with his brothers. scrolling through the latest posts with him either smiling with his brothers or posing for the camera in the next. you smiled at how happy nick and chris looked, a small tear falling from your glossy eyes. you let your eyes linger on matt for a moment looking at the red sweater he was wearing.

"but you keep my old scarf from that very first week. 'cause it reminds you of innocence and it smells like me. you can't get rid of it"

it reminded you off the old scarf from you and matt’s past trip from the beginning of your relationship. it made you tear up even more, curling up in your bed, to continue scrolling.

"'cause i remember it all too well."

thirteen years gone, present

you rubbed your shivering hands together as you walked inside the small coffee shop. the autumn air was cold, it’s suppose to be a busy day in the office, so a small coffeee in the morning wouldn’t hurt

you found a small empty booth in the back of the coffee shop before pulling out your phone. the line is long and standing while waiting didn’t seem like your crowd. you quickly place a mobile order, waiting for your coffee.

you pull out your laptop, hiding in your tote bag, before scrolling through your recent works for work. your an interior designer for some company you applied for last spring. you love your job so much and the environment is healthy and makes you feel safe. your coworkers are crazy nice, and you have never felt happier.

as you scroll through your up coming projects, a waitress delivers you your small coffee to you. you mutter her a thank you before you hear the front door ding, causing you to raise your eyes.you have a bad habit of watching people in big scenes. not in a stalker way, but more in a curious way.

but when your eyes land on the man walking in, you nearly drop the hot coffee in your hands.

you handed seen him since he walked out your apartment years ago. it took you months to finally grow from how horrible and torn that relationship make you feel, and now seeing him dressed older, wiser, happier... it makes your heart sink.

"and i was never good at tellin' jokes, but the punch line goes, "I'll get older, but your lovers stay my age. from when your brooklyn broke my skin and bones. i'm a soldier who's returning half her weight."

his blue eyes still look and make your heart race the same. you can't help but let your eyes linger at him. his hair looks more put together, he has grown a few inches maybe, and his style as certainly improved. you have to tear your eyes away from him when you start getting flash backs from your past relationship.

"and did the twin flame bruise paint you blue?"

you stare at the computer seated in front of you before you hear your name from the side of you. your scared to turn and look, because you know who it is. it shouldn't surprise you he wanted to talk, it's matt.

your eyes turn and meet his bright blue. he's got a small smile, while he carries a refresher in his left hand. your not sure what it is, but it looks refreshing...

you let your eyes travel before they stare at the small ring wrapped around his ring finger. it looks beautiful, elegant.

you want to say something, smile, do something, but your heart is racing and your brain is fuzzy.

"i can't believe your here." matt says softly, letting his smile fall. "you look incredible."

"just between us, did the love affair maim you too?"

you loved when matt complimented you. it always made your insides curl and explode with butterflies, but does he compliment his wife like he use to compliment you? where is his wife? what does she look like? thousands of thoughts and questions about his relationship with this other woman fills your brain.

'cause in this city's barren cold. i still remember the first fall of snow and how it glistened as it fell."

a cold breeze goes straight to your cheeks when you hear the door ding again. you turn and see a smiley woman walk in. she looks around for a moment before she sees matt and smile. she walks towards where you and matt are, giving matthew a quick kiss.

matt whispers something to the woman and she then sends you a smile before finding a small booth. your eyes go back to matts, while he avoids yours.

"how have you been? it's been... forever." matt asks, looking back at you, and now your avoiding his glaze.

"i remember it all too well."

"i've been fine." you whisper, trying your hardest to hold in tears. "you seem to be doing fine yourself." you add, clearing your throat.

matt turns to the table the woman is seated at. "yeah... that's gigi. do you remember her from high school?"

your head shook, earning an oh from matt. a long pause escapes between you before you both speak up.

"y/n-"

"matt-"

"no please you first." matt says, stopping himself.

you have so many things to tell him. you want to shout at him for not fighting for you guys, you want to scream at him for breaking your heart, you just want him. again.

“just between us, did the love affair maim you all too well?"

you head falls, looking at the computer time. it's nearly nine and you don't want to be late for work. you start backing up your belongings, while matt stares at you confused.

his hands rest on yours as you feel your whole body react to the physical touch, but you tear yours away quick enough so gigi cant see.

your eyes lock with his and it feels like your nineteen again.

"i-i have work. i'm sorry." you swing your bag over your shoulder and matt watches you try to escape.

"do you need a ride? i know how much you hate driving in the cold-"

"matt." you stop and you both just stare at each other. it was so painful just standing there remembering how little he cared back then. your head just shook, grabbing your coffee and ignoring his pleading glaze. "goodbye."

and it was just a goodbye.

"just between us, do you remember it all too well?"

#ellieswifie #gracie writes #fem!reader #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo #matthew #sturniolo triplets #all too well #taylor swift #taylor's version #all too well ten minute version #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo #angst #matt sturniolo angst #matt #request

[bipstargirl]

❝Echoes, Shadows and Resolutions❞

feel free to request any headcanon here 🠒 headcanons list ★ forgive any mistakes, English is not my native language, and this is so metaphorical, I'm not sure if you'll like or understand the meaning, but still, enjoy, my loves ♡

Amber was bombarding her phone with messages once again, probably for the hundredth time in half an hour. You had ignored her calls and messages all day long; you were hurt and needed some space for yourself. But of course, she didn't like that at all – she never did. You knew you should reply to her, provide explanations, or perhaps thousands of apologies. After all, the blame was all yours, always had been and always would be, or at least that's what she made it seem like. But dealing with her now was tiresome, like wasting words that would fall into the abyss of her mind without even being thought through and rationalized. It was like playing a soft melody in a noisy environment, where the tune gets lost in the chaotic noise – what's the point if, when carried by inertia, it loses its purpose of being appreciated? You immersed yourself in your work, desperately seeking temporary salvation, an escape from the shadows that threatened to engulf you. Each typed key was a blow against your own pain, an attempt to overpower the emotional cacophony surrounding you. Yet, even in the refuge of concentration, her memory lingered, hovering like an invisible ghost, a presence refusing to completely fade away.

The guilt, always finding shelter in the darkest corners of your heart, weighed like an anchor dragging you to the depths of the ocean of sadness. The words you should have said, the actions you should have taken, all turned into ghosts that now danced around you, whispering endless laments and questions. The pain of knowing that the disconnect between you was growing like an irreparable crack in the glass of what once was love had transformed into a silent whisper echoing within the walls of your being.

"To argue; to dispute; to quarrel; to misunderstand" – different words with similar meanings that, in a general context, describe the act of defending an opinion contrary to another, often associated with feelings of revolt. So simple, words that students occasionally encounter in the dictionary, words we frequently use when reading news or when nosy old ladies tell you about a scandal involving your neighbors while you're not at home – such simple words, words that are also actions and attitudes. When our actions are not thought through with humanity, they hurt like a silver dagger to others. Any action can become torturous, even a small one. It wasn't the first time, nor would it be the last, that you and Amber argued. Of course not, it was persistent, like removing a sticker from a jar or, more poetically, like the moth that dances around the light – your soul is drawn to it but also burned by the intensities of persistence. But at some point, in a split second between the narrow hands of the clock, you grew weary, how could you not?

Amber was paranoid, suspicious, perhaps confused…

She was also a star, bright and fiery, your star obscured by thick mist, clarity fading into the confusion of suspicion, leaving the mind at the mercy of shadows, but perfect, so perfect. And you were imperfect, not enough, like an unfinished painting where flawed strokes reveal the beauty of imperfection – that's why she constantly accused you of major "mistakes."

And you, being imperfect, in your tormented mind, it was more than logical that you were betraying her, even though she loved you. You didn't deserve her trust, and that's why in the darkness of the night, while tired bodies rested and melancholic minds surrendered to the flow of memories, darkness provided a space for words as sharp as a silver dagger to be thrown at you, freely and harshly piercing the labyrinth of your heart.

"I can't believe this! Do you really think you can fool me? I saw the messages, saw the evidence. You're cheating on me!"

"Amber, stop acting like everything is true. There's no cheating happening here."

"How dare you deny it? I read the words, saw the proof. You're deceiving me behind my back!"

"This is a misunderstanding, Amber. Things aren't what they seem."

"Don't give me your flimsy excuses. I never thought you were capable of this. You're a liar and a traitor."

"I'm not a traitor. I don't know how you came to this conclusion, but you're completely wrong."

"Wrong? There's no mistake here. You're cheating on me, and you thought you could get away with it."

"I'm trying to be honest here, but you're being irrational and don't want to hear the truth."

"The truth? The truth is, you're stabbing me in the back and trying to manipulate me now."

"Manipulate? You're acting impulsively and not willing to consider the possibility that there's more to this."

"I don't want to hear anything else coming from your lying mouth. You've destroyed everything."

"I won't accept this false accusation. I refuse to be vilified for something I didn't do."

"Save me from your theatrics. You're a traitor, and there's nothing you can say or do to change that."

"I won't keep trying to explain to someone who's so closed off in her distorted view. I really need time, and so do you."

"Get out! Get out of my life and never talk to me again. You're not worthy of my time."

You knew when you left for the library, walking hastily and light-footed through the damp streets, surrounded by the scent of freshly ground coffee, that she would still come after you, calling and being like a pebble in your shoe. Even as you tried to ignore and continue walking, at some point, she became painful and distressing, making you stop to remove her. As exhausting as it was, you still cared for her; after all, she was your girlfriend, your love, your golden light at the end of the day. And she loved you; think about all she had done for you. Why leave her alone and even more desperate? Yes, she said terrible things, did terrible things, she was completely unstable. But now, you had restored your peace and tranquility with the completion of your work, at least for now. So why not stop being a selfish, petty person and explain things to her? After all, it was your fault. Why didn't you listen to her? Why didn't you apologize and resolve this? Just wait an hour, wait for the hands of the clock to roll again, for your mind to sort itself out once more.

The clock of circumstances advanced with heavy steps, like a meticulous clockmaker etching marks on the fabric of time. An hour passed like a calm river, its waters carrying away the waves of indecision and doubt that filled the space between you and Amber. The echo of your thoughts resonated within the walls of your mind, like a chorus of restless voices.

Then, like a lone star twinkling in the darkness of the night sky, you felt the urgency to try once more. The phone became a magical artifact, a portal to a realm of possibilities. With trembling fingers, as if tracing a seal that could unlock the doors to the depths of the unknown, you dialed the numbers.

And then, the waiting ended. The sound of the ringing phone echoed like a call through the mists of uncertainty. Each ring was like a drumbeat in time with your anxiety, a prelude to the imminent encounter with destiny. The tension in the air was palpable, like a thread of electricity connecting

you and Amber, each vibration amplifying the anticipation that filled the room.

Finally, her voice emerged from the other end of the line, like an echo from a hidden place deep within the forest. It was a sound that carried with it shared memories, the good and the bad moments that now seemed to teeter on the balance of uncertainty. Her words were a distant echo resonating in the cavern of your emotions, creating a painfully beautiful symphony.

"Amber," you said. "I'm sorry about what happened. I didn't mean to ignore you."

"Yeah, right," she said. "You're just sorry you got caught."

"No, I'm serious," you said. "I just needed some time to think."

"Well, you had your time," she said. "Now come back home."

In the twilight of reconciliation, like two stars emerging from the veil of night, you and Amber finally agreed to return to the abode of tranquility. Home became a symbol of refuge, an oasis where emotional storms could rest and calm down. It was as if you were about to embark on a journey of self-discovery, exploring the hidden caves of the human heart.

The hours slid by like sand flowing through an hourglass, each moment a grain of possibility. The conversation that unfolded was a symphony of words and silences, like an intricate dance of intertwining souls. The unspoken words were like rays of sunlight filtering through the cracks in the curtains, revealing truths that had been hidden in the shadows.

Apologies were like keys that unlocked the doors to your hearts, releasing the guilt and anguish that had accumulated. Each word of remorse was a raindrop falling onto the dry soil of the relationship, nurturing the seed of mutual understanding. You were like lost travelers who had finally found their way back home, guided by the beacon of reconciliation.

The promise to improve communication was like a gentle breeze sweeping through the dry leaves of autumn, carrying away the remnants of the past and preparing the ground for new growth. It was like a sacred vow etched in the stars, to be more truthful with yourselves and each other. You were mapping emotional territories, where vulnerability and authenticity would be the compasses guiding you.

It wasn't an easy journey, but you and Amber navigated the treacherous waters of resolution. The road to reconciliation was strewn with sharp stones and treacherous currents, but you moved forward hand in hand, like fearless adventurers exploring the depths of the human heart. The winds of change whispered promises of renewal, yet also warned of the fragility of the achieved balance.

And yet, even as the anchors of harmony were being secured, there was a shadow, a dark cloud of uncertainty on the horizon. You felt it, like an unwavering clock, reminding you that the path to redemption was paved with unexpected challenges. The past "mistakes" were not isolated incidents; they were question marks lingering above you, waiting for the right moment to trigger a new cycle of turmoil.

Thus, even as the light of reconciliation shone, you couldn't ignore the shadows dancing in the corners of the future. It was as if reconciliation itself were a fragile shell, surrounded by the tumultuous ocean of uncertain destiny. The commitment to be more honest with each other was there, but you knew that the challenge of keeping that promise would be an ongoing battle against the tides of time and circumstances.

#scream fanfic #scream imagine #scream movies #scream x reader #scream x yn #scream 1996 #scream #scream headcanons #scream 2022 #scream franchise #amber freeman #amber freeman x female reader #amber freeman x reader #amber freeman x y/n #amber freeman imagine #amber freeman angst #scream one shot #scream oneshot #scream angst

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

Risk

Rick Grimes x plus size reader 

Alpha!Rick Grimes x omega!reader Side alpha!Daryl x omega!reader

The time Rick almost knotted her mouth on a run

Warnings: oral sex (m receiving), deep throating, dom!Rick, degradation, mention of walkers

WC: 1.7k

A/N: this takes place before the events of First Lady

Minors DNI

The small isolated cottage had been found by Glenn and Maggie a few days before and Rick had decided to bring you along on the run since you had started to go a bit mad with cabin fever at the prison. There were only a couple walkers outside the building and one more inside. And given the fact that the pantry was stocked with lots of canned goods, it was an incredible run.

You had been going through the wooden chest behind the couch for more blankets when Rick slumped down in the dusty recliner on the far end of the living room. Letting out a groan, he rested his head on the back of the chair, letting his eyes flutter shut. You chuckled as you pulled a slightly moth-eaten throw blanket from the box and stuffed it in your duffle bag.

He cracked open a single eye and glared playfully at you. “What are you laughin at ‘mega?” His southern drawl was more pronounced with his exhaustion. Dropping your bag, you sauntered over to him, coming to stand between his spread legs. Your eyes briefly flicked down to the sizeable bulge in his dark jeans before meeting his gaze. “Nothing alpha.” You cooed, cupping his scruffy cheek.

Big hands clamped over your wide hips, drawing you closer to him. He growled playfully, squeezing your love handles tightly. “Are you sure about that?” You wiggled in his grasp, inwardly debating whether you should poke the bear or not. “Answer me ‘mega.” The alpha command shook you to your bones, and, shamefully, made heat pool in your belly.

“You made a dad noise when you sat down.” Rick tilted his head in confusion, a grey curl falling over his forehead in doing so. “A dad noise?” You brushed the lock away. “Yeah you know, the sound all older dads make when they sit down or stand up.” He raised an eyebrow at you, his pupils getting larger as he watched you squirm, the smell of your arousal steadily getting more intense. He liked this game.

“You callin me old?” You giggled and shook your head. You loved when he got in this mood, when he would tease you until you begged for him. He never did it when Daryl was around because the other alpha would immediately get on his knees for you with one bat of your eyelashes. So he took his chances when he could. “I think you are callin me old ‘mega and I don’t know that I appreciate that.” He drawled, his palms slipping to your plump cheeks and giving them a firm squeeze.

“‘M sorry alpha. Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?” You purred, nails lightly scraping his skin as you glided them down to his neck, then coming to rest on his broad shoulders. You felt the shiver run down his spine as goosebumps erupted under your fingertips. Inwardly, you smirked. Getting such a pronounced reaction from the stoic sheriff was rare and you reveled in the power you held over him in that moment.

But just as quickly as you had taken control, you lost it. As if sensing your defiance, Rick growled, his eyes getting even darker. “Get me out.” Your knees fucking buckled at his tone, the same one he used when he was pissed (not at you though, he was never angry with you). Your fingers trembled as you reached down for his belt, undoing it while keeping his holster in place, and popping open the button.

You sunk to your knees before him so you were now level with his crotch, hands planted on his firm thighs, the rough denim gliding beneath your palms. Leaning forward, you gave your alpha a sultry wink and took the silver zipper between your teeth and slowly pulled it down, keeping your eyes locked on the older man. His breath hitched. 

Rick swallowed down the moan that threatened to escape his tight throat at the sight of his plump omega on his knees for him. He wouldn’t give you the satisfaction, not yet at least. He shuffled his jeans down just enough to release his cock. You licked your lips and looked up at Rick, waiting for permission to touch.

Cupping your plump cheek in one hand while the other gripped the base of his dick tightly, he cooed. “What a good ‘mega. Go on, suck me.” “Yes alpha.” The soft skin of his cock practically burned your lips. He was so hot. You laid soft kisses up the length of his shaft, sucking the large vein on the underside with care. 

The pure, unadulterated evergreen musk of your alpha was overpowering, quickly making your mind foggy as your kisses got sloppier, the closer you inched to the purple tip. You clamped your thighs together, feeling slick drip down between your thick thighs, your panties absolutely ruined.

He looked so powerful above you, lust and power radiating from his frame. You shuddered. He was looking at you like he wanted to eat you alive. Your tongue darted out and licked up the small bead of pre-cum glistening at the top of his dick. Your eyelids fluttered shut as you savoured the salty taste of your alpha. The sudden pressure of his fingers tightly gripping your jaw made your eyes snap open.

Rick snarled. “I said suck.” You whimpered but complied. Your lips wrapped around his sensitive head and he released his grip, his arms going to settle on his thighs. “Good girl.” Rick surrounded you like this. His smell, his touch, his very presence dominated your mind, body and soul. As you began to bob your head, taking him deeper in your mouth, your attention became focused on his pleasure.

The bond hummed with pleasure, making a comforting warmth spread through you. Your mind went fuzzy as your omega stretched to life, purring and content with the alpha pheromones soaking into your pores and the pleased grunts of the man above you. You spluttered as you swallowed around half his considerable length. Rick tapped your shoulder gently. “Breathe through your nose ‘mega.” He knew you tended to forget that and just try and power your way through while your lungs screamed for oxygen.

Your nostrils flared as you sucked in a deep breath, and then sunk down even further, your stretched lips almost touching the swollen base of his cock. Rick’s thin hips bucked up beneath you, pushing the last inch down your throat and you violently gagged. “Ah shit, sorry darlin.” He pulled your head off of him, gazing down at you with concern. His thumbs wiped away the stray tears in the corner of your eyes. “‘M ok.” Your voice was hoarse. “I can take it.” “You sure?” He double checked. “Fuck my face alpha.”

His head lolled back against the dusty chair. “Fuck, yer gonna be the death of me.” “I hope not.” You giggled. Rick smiled warmly at you before swooping down for a quick peck. Then he readjusted his hips so they were closer to your face, his hand coming around to hold the back of your neck. “Go on girl, put my big cock in your pretty little mouth.” You happily did so and Rick began to thrust up into you. The pace was slow at first, careful not to hurt you, but when you squeezed his thigh tightly, signaling you were ok, he started to pound your throat.

A deep groan rumbled through the alpha’s broad chest. Sweat dripped down his brow, getting lost in the salt and pepper beard he refused to shave. His blue eyes were screwed shut, huge hands cupping the back of your head tightly. “Fuck darlin. Yer takin me so well.” You gagged around his length, drool dripping down your chin as you gave him arguably the best head of his life. One hand remained on his thigh as you slid the other beneath his plaid, resting it on the warm skin of his stomach

“Yer gonna make me pop a knot.” That spurred you on even more. Your cheeks hollowed around him as you unconsciously ground down on your heels, desperately trying to get some friction against your aching cunt. You could feel the hard ring of his knot starting to grow as his hips stuttered and his breathing became more ragged. “Aw poor little omega.” He mocked, forcing his eyes open so he could look down on you devouring his cock. “Wants her alpha to knot her mouth doesn’t she?”

You moaned to the affirmative, doubling your efforts in a vain attempt to prove that you were worthy enough of his knot. “She’s not going to get my knot.” You whined at the degradation, more tears slipping from your bloodshot eyes. Rick quickly realised his mistake. “Oh no sweetie, you’ll still get my cum. I just don’t think I can be tied to you for that long when I want to get my hands on your juicy lil cunt.” He felt you relax even more at the reassurance, encouraging you to take him almost fully to the hilt, your lips meeting the thick ring of muscle.

Your breath came out in pants and you swallowed around him, encouraging Rick to his end. You felt his cock get harder in your mouth as the power of his thrusts increased. “Fuck fuck fuck.” He chanted into the empty house, no longer able to keep those azure eyes on you as the pleasure built and built. His abs tensed beneath your palm and his body shook. Then suddenly he went still.

He called out your name as his back arched, the tension finally snapping. His big knot popped and he exploded down your throat. You swallowed as much as you could, the hand that you planted on his thigh coming up to clutch his knot tightly, trying to milk him for all he was worth. Rick collapsed back onto the chair, running a trembling hand through his unruly curls as he attempted to catch his breath.

You pulled off of his dick with a wet pop and scooped up some of his cum that had escaped your mouth with your finger and licked it up. Rick chuckled and grabbed you by the shoulders so he could pull you into his lap. Laying a kiss to your hairline, he muttered. “Give me two minutes and I’ll devour that delicious little pussy.” Snuggling in closer, you rested your face against his collarbone, inhaling his warm scent. “Yes alpha.”

Needless to say, you got back to the prison pretty late and Daryl was pissed. Good thing you knew exactly how to make it up to him.

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All works

@im-a-slut-for-fluff

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A/B/O

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@insanitybyanothername

Life, Liberty and the Pursuit of Happiness

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@raajali3

@livingdeadblondequeen

#alpha!rick grimes x omega!reader #female reader #plus size reader #reader insert #fluff #alpha!rick grimes x omega!plus size reader #alpha!rick x omega!reader #rick grimes x female!reader #rick grimes x y/n #rick grimes x plus size reader #rick grimes x you #rick grimes x reader #rick x reader #rick x y/n #rick x you #omega!reader #omega!plus size reader #smut

[creationsofimaginationsblr]

This is a kind of a response to this cool post by @thatstarboi. It may not make a lot of sense (my writing is always really messy) But I hope it even has a thread of meaning to a few of you!

A soft click ran through the room, followed by an empty second before the faint buzzing of a lightbulb, light quickly chasing after the noise. He blinked against the harsh light, slowly focusing on two figures that had entered the room. One was Polly, looking rather confused by the sight of him. No doubt he looked like a mess. Last he had seen he had dark shadows lingering under his eyes, his hair sticking up in a million directions, and his paws carrying a faint tremble (if that was due to stress or to all the caffeine was anyone's guess). The one in front of the ghost stayed paused, hand near the night switch. Given their green hat, he had to assume this must have been Galix, Polly’s creator.

“What are you doing in here with the lights off, friend?” Galix asked. Their voice was quiet but it echoed just fine across the messy paper covered room. He straightened up, shuffling a little as he tried to get a better grasp of his papers.

“Oh. I see.” They muttered at his silent answer. After another second of silence they moved forward. “Polly? Would you mind helping me out?” Polly nodded, moving ahead of their creator and scooping up their moth friend. “It’s been a while! I missed talking with you.” He slowly nodded, a little dazzled at the sudden light, then sudden movement. “The fluff suits you!” They hummed their echoey comment finally earning a small smile from him.

Behind him, Galix paused at the desk. 

And in one swift movement they swept everything off of it.

The ensuing crash made him jump, making him whirl towards the destruction. “H-Hey! You can't just throw my things around like that!” His voice almost made him cringe. It was raspy due to lack of use, cracking in odd places as a protest to his sudden shift.

Galix turned back around and looked right at him.

“Listen to me very closely, Wood Nymph. None of this matters.” They said, gesturing to the projects on the floor. “You’re here, rushing from project to project, but why. Why are you so desperate to make things? Is it just to create, or is it to beat the clock?” He glanced away for a moment. “I can sense your fear of the passage of seasons, but tell me, do trees fear the coming of winter? Surely they should, given what it means for their leaves. But they don’t. Trees still bloom, no matter how time passes. Any winter could be their last, but they still bloom at their own pace.

“You act as though time has not served you in any way. And yet I have seen your voice rise far above what you thought was capable just a few months ago. You’re already making something amazing by just accepting what you are, so why do you demand so much more of something already growing and doing its best?”

His wings rustled again.

“Or maybe you create to stay seen. To feed the millions of eyes on your back. But, if that’s the case, then you’re staying blind to something else entirely.” They raised a finger, gently pressing it to his crown. “The project we adore most is you, little moth. We aren’t here to demand, we aren't here to consume you. We want to see our creators happy. We want you to love what you make, because that’s the thing we love most from you. Yes, there are dark times, and that’s fine too. But what use are a million projects if one a few will actually make you happy and the rest only cause stress and misery?”

They gently took him from Polly’s hands, letting the ghost swirl around them. “Time doesn’t mean that it’s a race, friend. You don’t have to rush, to put a million bits of pressure on your shoulders as you try to make, make, make. Time isn’t all goodbyes and darkness. It’s all the hello’s, too. It’s a quiet voice begging you to let your heart settle. Yes, time does try to usher us along to some degree, but it’s not trying to push us into an abyss. It’s not demanding us to cling on. Time is only knocking on your door, asking you to remember that you are human. That you need to take care on your journey though everything.“

Galix sighed. “Forgive me, I know that sounded like poetic nonsense. But, Time doesn't matter. The projects don’t matter. Polly visited you after you two met, because they liked you. You aren't just what you can make, but a million different quirks, from your adorable laughter, to the way you move, to the look in your eyes when you hear about the flowers of my world. Yes, I heard about that.” They chuckled at the embarrassed look on his face. “I came down here to properly meet you because I heard about how you were a friend to Polly, not because of the stories you write.” They handed him back to Polly and smiled. “You have a good heart, Little Moth. And while, yes, Polly does gush about the things you make, their first focus is you. Time does not demand you make, only that you grow. So keep growing. Let the projects go. Just do what makes your heart content. And maybe get some sleep.”

#galix #my writing #i swear im coherent sometimes #i think we creators forget that we are something outside of making #mostly because of the fact that we make all of the time #we learn to tie our selves to that because it feels like all we have #and I should say I'm super guilty of this #but #We also have to remember that it's not all voids and uncomfortable ties and a millions and one papers. #creating is like a flow we can capture #but we don't have to trap it or force it to keep going all the time #it will come and go #but we must remember who we are outside of that

[stratiotis-nth]

The few times Cas spoke about his true form, Dean had always imagined some terrifying robed creature with a bazillion heads and rotating rings and fifty giant wings from different animals. He imagined mighty beings that embodied the idea of God’s warriors. Cas once said his true form was size of the Chrysler building, and Dean had had to hide just how impressive the angel was despite looking and acting like a total dork. Cas as Cas was intimidating enough, but Castiel—the Chrysler-sized warrior of divinity—sounded terrifying and majestic all at the same time.

But apparently, Cas had omitted a few details. He had neglected to tell Dean that little bits of his true form lingered with him while he was in human form, some additions that couldn’t be seen but existed with him in another plane of reality.

So imagine Dean’s shock when he’s on a case and accidentally uses the holy fire glasses in his insurance company disguise. He didn’t even realize the difference until Cas joined him and Sam to help.

They were dealing with a Shifter who had been killing old people in a wealthy neighborhood in upstate New York. Cas, a fully functioning angel again, had offered to help when Sam and Dean realized they were up against a Shifter duo instead of a loner.

Sam was out getting grub when Cas appeared in the motel room with a whoosh of wings. Dean knew how much Cas had missed flying, and even he had missed hearing him announce his presence with that characteristic whoosh.

“Hey Cas.” Dean greeted without looking up from the laptop.

“Hello, Dean.” Was the usual response. He flicked his gaze up to Cas briefly, peering over the rim of the glasses he hadn’t bothered taking off. Dean did a double take when he caught a flash of black within the glasses’ lens. Frowning, he pushed the frames up his nose until he could squint through them properly. A sharp intake of breath caught in his throat.

“Dean?”

Cas’ voice floated through his mind but he couldn’t process it. He stared at the Castiel revealed through the lens, abso-fucking-lutely floored.

A pair of black wings, ones Dean had only ever seen the shadow or scorched remains of before, were folded neatly against Cas’ back. As the afternoon sunlight hit the feathers, Dean could see them shimmering and reflecting all the colors of the rainbow subtly. The feathers looked spun of night sky and stardust, light as clouds but dense and powerful was cooling lava. Dean had a really, really strong urge to run his fingers through them. They looked like they’d make his fingers tingle with lightning.

Alongside the wings, the other newly revealed part of Cas was his halo. He had never mentioned one before, so Dean had just assumed halos were just another one of those things crazy Christians made up. But apparently, angels did had halos, because there was a thin ring of glowing light surrounding Cas’ head like a circlet, hovering above his ears and just a few inches away from his hair and forehead. It gleamed an ethereal pale gold, almost white, light. As he looked at it closer, he noticed a few gaps in the ring, like jagged cracks where pieces had fallen away. Were they supposed to be like that?

Dean was so shocked that he wondered how the hell he was even seeing these parts of Cas now. It took him a moment for his sluggish brain to piece together that he must had accidentally taken the holy fire glasses instead of another fake pair.

“Dean? Are you alright?”

He blinked, still taking in the halo and wings, and cleared his throat. Cas was frowning at him in concern, his head tilted adorably to the side. The halo drifted and followed a half second behind his movement.

“Uh—“ a strangled noise escapes Dean’s throat. His fingers itched to dig themselves into those feathers, to trace that halo and try to feel the warmth of light. He swallowed thickly, his throat clicking. The words fell out of his mouth before he could stop them.

“Are there supposed to be cracks in that thing?”

Cas blinked at him, thoroughly confused. A split second later, his face both flushed and paled at the same time. Dean worried the sudden blood flow would make him pass out, but then he remembered Cas was an angel.

“Those glasses have been burned in holy fire, haven’t they?” He asked, his wings tucking more firmly against his back like he was trying to hide them.

“Uh, uh yeah.” He stammered, wondering if he should say something to ease Cas’ obvious insecurity. “Grabbed ‘em by accident.”

Cas shuffled his feet awkwardly, the light of his halo dimming shyly. He obviously wasn’t going to offer any information unless Dean pressed a little more.

“So?” He managed to sound somewhat casual, even though his heart was beating loudly in his ears. “What’s with the missing pieces?”

“Ah.” Cas rumbled in his low voice. He avoided Dean’s eyes, his chipped halo floating after every movement of his head. “Well, to angels, the halo represents purity and devotion to God. It is the manifestation of each angel’s divinity. When Lucifer rebelled against Heaven, his halo was shattered as a sign of disgrace and he was banished to Hell. Other angels like Gabriel and Anna had a chip broken off because they rejected Heaven and their loyalties were to their own well-being. Angels cannot exist fully if their halos are damaged, but because Gabriel was an archangel and Anna became human, they were exceptions.”

Dean frowned. But Cas had way more than one piece missing and he was still alive and still an angel.

“So how come you’re still around?” He asked, waving a hand at Cas’ cracked halo.

“Because I was created already broken.” The words, delivered in a flat, emotionless tone, still cut through Dean’s heart. That wasn’t true. Cas wasn’t broken. He was just Cas. Perfectly fine the way he was. “As you have heard from many angels and Chuck himself, I came off the line with a crack in my chassis. I was created to be flawed.”

“Cas…” Dean began, trying to find the words to tell him that it wasn’t true, that everything Naomi and Chuck had told him was a lie.

“It’s alright, Dean.” Cas said gently, glancing at him for the first time since the conversation started. “When Jack restored me to my full power I asked to keep the cracks I bear. Not as an punishment.” he added, somehow interpreting the frown flashing across Dean’s face. “but as proof that angels can exist with their flaws and still do good things. That they can still protect humanity, as was their reason for existence.”

Well, when he put it that way, Dean really couldn’t protest. It was very Cas-like of him to not give a single fuck about being perfect and defying everything anyone has ever known by doing it his way.

“But I am sorry.”

That made Dean snap his head up sharply, looking at Cas in surprise.

“For what?” He asked incredulously.

“For forcing you to see me like this.” Cas’ wings spread out momentarily before being tucked tightly against his back again, hiding their magnificence from Dean. He hated that. He hated that Cas thought Dean wouldn’t want to see him like this, one step closer to his true form, to the real Castiel. “I understand it was undoubtedly shocking and unsettling, but if I could hide these parts of myself from those glasses, I would for your sake.”

“No.” Dean snapped vehemently, jumping to his feet and jabbing a finger at Cas. He hated that Cas believed the things he was saying. How could he not be awestruck by him, by his beautiful wings and perfectly flawed halo? “Shut the fuck up, Cas.”

Cas’ face fell even further than before, the corners of his mouth ticking down and his eyes falling downcast. He looked so…rejected. It cut right through Dean’s heart again, and he scrambled to fix it before they fell victim to miscommunication again.

“Cas.” Dean said firmly, ducking down to catch his gaze. Like a moth to light, that piercing blue gaze fixed on green and followed them up. “I ain’t unsettled. Shocked, but in a really good way.”

Cas looked frowned, confused. Dean plowed on.

“Dude, don’t be ashamed of who you are. Your wings and halo…they look awesome, man. Seriously. You look badass.”

Cas’ lips parted in shock. Dean nervously fidgeted with a pen he had forgotten was in his hands, tapping it against his palm as he struggled to find the right words.

“You ain’t broken or flawed—you’re just Cas. My—“

Best friend didn’t cut it anymore. They had gone through too much together to be best friends. Brothers didn’t sit right either. Dean didn’t feel the same things for Cas as he did Sam (it made him shudder in disgust just thinking about his little brother like that). Dean knew what it was like to lose Cas and Sam—Sam, he had lost his family, his blood. Cas, Dean had lost a part of his soul.

“—you’re my—“

Dean wanted—needed—to say the words. But nothing fit, nothing felt right. No word could describe just what Cas was to him.

“—you’re my angel, Cas. And I wouldn’t want you any other way.”

Cas just stared at him with another one of those soul searching gazes. Even when he was human, Dean felt he could still see straight through him, searching for deception or lies and every time never finding one.

There was a small, awed smile on Cas’ face, and before Dean could register what was happening, Cas gently cupped the back of his neck and pulled Dean down. Soft, chapped lips pressed briefly against his forehead, warm and sweet and grateful. They were gone a moment later, and so was Cas’ hand.

“Thank you, Dean.” He said softly after a while. “I appreciate it.”

Dean blinked and nodded stiffly. His entire body was shaking, aching to feel that warmth again. “Don’t…yeah, don’t mention it, Cas. I just…you gotta know the truth.”

Cas’ wings were fluffed up a bit, and they twitched against his back like they were itching to spread out. His halo was glowing much brighter than before, matching his smile.

“I have always been honored to be by your side, Dean, but it is nice to hear that you consider me yours.”

There was a lump in his throat that muted his voice. He nodded, shivering when he felt the cool, electrified tingling brush of a feather run down his arm and the warmth of light as Cas’ halo grew brighter.

“Always have. Cas.” He murmured, staring down at the pen clutched between his trembling fingers. He could feel Cas’ smile grow, and the primary feather of his wings brushed against his arm with a little more intent.

“As have I.” His response was so quiet that Dean almost didn’t hear it. But a shiver ran down his spine nonetheless. There was something different in the air, now that there were these confessions in the open. It wasn’t quite like a straightforward declaration that Dean was Cas’ and Cas was Dean’s, but it was pretty damn close. It was just a soft, gentle confirmation of how they had felt about each other since Cas pulled Dean from Hell all those years ago.

The quiet, peaceful moment between them was effectively shattered when they both heard the motel door open and Sam come barging through. They both jumped apart. They might have confessed…something between them…but that didn’t mean they were at all comfortable letting Sam see them in such an intimate moment.

“Uhhh…” Sam came to an abrupt halt as he took in Dean and Cas all but throwing themselves in opposite directions. “did I…?”

“No.” both Dean and Cas said quickly. They faltered and fell silent. Sam glanced between them hesitantly, like they were a bomb about to go off. Dean peeked over at Cas, noticing how his wings were fluffed up almost twice their size, his cheeks burning when he noticed Dean had noticed.

“Riiiight.” Sam said. “Well…there’s uh…been another body. I was gonna grab you and go…?”

“Yeah.” Dean said immediately, straightening up. “Let’s go.”

Cas looked like he wanted to protest—or force Sam to leave so they could deal with twelve years of tension—but Dean pointedly sent a prayer his way.

Tonight. Promise.

Cas’ wings fluffed up even more, his halo’s light shone so brightly it poked Dean’s eyes, and his face was redder than a tomato.

Dean grinned before grabbing his keys.

“See ya at the crime scene, angel.” He said before ducking out of the motel room.

“Is Cas okay?” Sam asked when they were in Baby.

“Oh yeah.” Dean grinned smugly, already looking forward to tonight. “He’s definitely okay.”

He’s got a chipped halo and beautiful wings that had once been burned to bone.

He’s Dean’s angel. He’s perfect.

#this was a lot longer than i thought it would be #but i’m a sucker for cas with a halo and wings #dean would be so floored to see cas like that #supernatural #cas #castiel #destiel #spn #casdean #dean is bi #dean winchester #deancas #love confessions #destiel confession #destiel fandom #destiel fanfic

[loeyparker]

hurt her to save her - d.m

pairing: draco x fem!reader

word count: 7k 

warnings: angst, swearing, mentions of death and torture

plot: getting closer to Draco during sixth year has consequences. Draco realizes that when he’s forced to hurt you in order to keep you safe from Voldemort

a/n: my HP obsession is back so I’ve returned to writing fics but i might have went overboard with this one lmao . it wasn’t requested, but if someone wants part 2 i’m gonna do it <3

Draco Malfoy had a very good memory. Besides being cunning and arrogant, he was also incredibly smart – which is precisely why he was second best in most classes. Behind the cold, uncaring façade the youngest Malfoy put out into the world however, stood a boy who remembered things he probably should have forgotten.

Lately, Draco Malfoy couldn’t remember the last time he felt anything but fear. He attempted to mask the feeling either with anger, determination or indifference but the true, raw feeling of fear was behind it all, much like a dementor guarding all his other emotions. The past summer planted dread and terror deep into his mind and the ink on his skin felt like it was seeping through his skin, entering his veins and poisoning his heart.

By the time he arrived back at Hogwarts for his sixth year, he felt drained. With the weight of the world on his shoulders, the young boy attempted to pretend to be a normal student, despite the countless sleepless nights and stray tears that sometimes escaped through small cracks in the emotional wall he’d built around him over the years. The tears only saw the light of day in the darkness of the Room of Requirement, where he found himself surrounded by old artifacts and silence.  

“Draco, Severus has been telling me you seem distracted.” The soft, yet scared tone of Draco’s mother rang throughout the empty, rotting room in the Shrieking Shack. Broken windows allowed for the wind to invade the abandoned building violently and loudly, and to dance around the three figures standing in the dark. It caused a shiver to run up Draco’s spine, but he couldn’t tell if the reaction came from the cold or from Narcissa and Severus’s stares aimed at him.

Draco felt so small under their gaze.

“That’s true, I have been.” Draco admitted, looking forward. He focused on a spider trapping a moth in its web. “With school.” The moth fought, attempted to flap its wings but the web was too sticky. “I have to keep up my grades. Them dropping suddenly would be suspicious.” Draco’s voice didn’t waver, despite his heart beating at a much more rapid pace than normally.

“Lie.” Severus Snape spoke simply. The professor was tasked with taking care of the Slytherin boy, but he wasn’t about to listen to his childish lies while the man knew what he had been seeing in the past months around Hogwarts.

Draco didn’t move.

Narcissa sighed and got closer to her son. She placed her palms on Draco’s pale cheeks and she felt them being hollower than she remembered. Draco still didn’t look at her. The spider was covering the dying moth in his web, fully suffocating the creature.

“My boy, the dead don’t need lovers.” Narcissa’s voice was quiet, regretful even. Her heart ached for the boy who was so quickly deprived of a childhood.

“You cannot forget about the assignment because of a girl.” Snape spoke up, his voice monotonous.

“I haven’t forgotten.” Draco spat back and took a step away from his mother, whose hands dropped. He didn’t feel the lack of her palms on his cheeks, as they left no warmth Draco could feel. “And there’s no girl.”

“Do not lie to us, boy. I have seen you with the Ravenclaw girl, I am not blind.” Snape saw the glances between Draco and you in the Great Hall, he saw the way Draco fixed his gaze on you during DADA. He also caught you walking into the Room of Requirement not long after Draco the previous night. On top of that, Minerva had mentioned how Draco’s recent assignments closely mirrored yours. You had a certain style noticeable in your homework answers, and that style began to be seen in Draco’s own homework which lead everyone to speculate the two students may be closer than everyone thinks.

Before Draco could deny, Narcissa spoke “Under other circumstances, I’d be delighted to hear about a girl in your life.” Her tone was soft, yet it held an edge and sternness to it. “But you have a mission, Draco. Do I need to remind you of the consequences to befall our family if you don’t succeed?”

“No.” Draco spat. He already knew the consequences – loud and clear. They had been drilled into his mind, heart and soul the entire summer. If he couldn’t kill Dumbledore, Voldemort would kill Draco’s entire family instead.

“The girl is another weakness. Another person to add to the death list, Draco.” His mother pleaded. “You know he will kill her if he finds out.”

“I know.”

Draco could feel all the warmth in his body melt away and even his bones felt cold and heavy.

“You can still save her.” Snape spoke. “Focus on you mission, hurt her. Make her believe you don’t love her.”

Draco glanced at the spider one last time, and the moth laid still in the webs of the predator. The wind made the web sway, but only slightly. It was too sturdy to be blown away by any forces.

“Hurt her to save her.” Narcissa’s voice echoed through Draco’s mind all the way back to the castle. The Room of Requirement didn’t appear that night, and so the boy went to bed instead. He entered an empty Slytherin common room and even though the fire was burning, Draco couldn’t feel its warmth. Not even as he knelt in front of the flames, attempting to warm his freezing hands. His movements were mechanic. As he laid in bed that night, he couldn’t remember how exactly he got back into the dorm from the Shack.

However, he remembered events that took place years ago perfectly.

He especially remembered the night of the Yule Ball, two years prior. He can pinpoint the exact moment he spotted you in the crowd of well-dressed students. It was, in his mind, the first time he really, truly saw you. He remembered the small -but noticeable skip of his heart that happened as soon as his eyes landed on your figure. You were smiling, but sitting at the wrong table –  which confused him for a moment. You were sat at the Gryffindor table, right next to the Weasley twins who were making you laugh. A Ravenclaw boy whose name Draco didn’t know was behind you, resting his hands on your shoulders thus signaling that he was your date that night through possessive body language. You didn’t acknowledge his presence much, though.

Pansy, Draco’s date, made comments about your dress each time you stood up to dance. The long dark blue satin dress gently touched the ground with each step you took, the slit in its side slightly exposed your leg with each movement. There was a smile on your face the whole night.

Draco thought you looked so beautiful.

He thought you looked beautiful even when your glance danced towards Ron Weasley until the end of the ball.

Draco also remembered the night Pansy dragged you into Umbridge’s office a year later. She held your arms behind your back forcefully while you struggled to get out of her grasp. Your wand was in her possession and you looked angry. A great juxtaposition to how you looked on the night of the Yule Ball. He remembered thinking how much sense it made for you to be tangled in Harry Potter’s mess because that’s what Potter did. He had everyone on his side, all odds in his favor while Draco was being dealt bad cards at every turn.  

You fought and tried to get away from Pansy. Your hair was messy, and your oversized blue sweater was getting untucked from your jeans with each forceful move you made. A frown painted your soft features, your eyes seemed darker than usual. Draco caught a glimpse of the scars on your wrist which he immediately knew came from Umbridge’s detention sessions, and he felt a flicker of rage rise into his stomach. The feeling directly contradicted the satisfaction he had been feeling at the sight of Potter getting his plans spoiled right in front of him.

“Parkinson, lay it off.” Draco found himself spitting when he realized the pressure on your wrist was painful. He spoke before he realized what he was doing, and so he found the confused gazes of Ginny and Ron Weasley, Neville Longbottom, and you – all fixed on him. Pansy obeyed Draco with discomfort.

You looked at him quizzingly, not really understanding why he was suddenly…helping you? He met your gaze just for a second before a heavy glare returned in his eyes and he turned away, focusing entirely on Harry and Umbridge.

It was minutes later when he watched your figure getting smaller as you ran away from Umbridge’s office, escaping with your friends. Draco and his friends were left behind and unable to follow as they each struggled with curses thrown at them in the escape. You were all long gone by the time the group of Slytherins came to, and Draco remembered that he found himself wishing he had people running into the line of fire for him like Harry did – he wished you would’ve glanced back at him in your escape and then weeks later when he was told about the events of that night, he found himself hoping his father didn’t hurt you in the Ministry attack.

Those thoughts and memories didn’t stay with him for long that summer, though. Draco couldn’t say that you crossed his mind after he received the Mark.

Until that night.

It was late and he was in the Room of Requirement, still fiddling with the cabinet. It was the fourth consecutive night spent in there after finding the damn thing, and he wasn’t anywhere close to fixing it. Frustrated, he punched and kicked the wood so hard that his knuckles sent sharp waves of pain through his arm. It was because of the noise he was making, the kicks and grunts that he didn’t hear the Room’s doors open and close.

You had previously been in the Gryffindor common room, attending one of their parties. There weren’t lots of Ravenclaws there – hell, it was only you, Stiles, Padma, Anthony and Michael. And it was all going well. You were sat on a bean bag chair with Stiles in-between your legs, surrounded by your Gryffindor friends: Ron, Harry, Hermione, Neville and Ginny, with Dean and Seamus on their way to you all with butterbeers in hand. The atmosphere was fun and light – a welcomed escape from the reality surrounding you, but you all decided to enjoy the moment and pretend the world outside the common room didn’t exist for the night. So you sat close to the fire and you didn’t know if the hot flames were warming you up or if it was the fact that Ron was focusing an unusual amount of attention on you.

You’ve had a crush on the Weasley boy since third year, and no matter what you did, you couldn’t stop your heart from beating faster each time he smiled at you.

You were having a great time.

“And if I become an Animagus to help Scott, then what?” Stiles spoke. Harry shook his head. You puffed. “What? We’d be the new generation of the Marauders; someone has to keep the legacy alive.” He continued, determined.

“Lupin would kill you, mate.” Ron laughed.

“You know animagi don’t pick their animal though, right?” You questioned. Stiles looked up at you and beamed.

“I know. But it’s like, vibe related so I think I’m safe. I’d absolutely be a dog, or a wolf.”

You glanced worryingly at Harry, but the boy simply burst out laughing and denied jokingly. Everyone else hearing the conversation laughed as well.

“Stiles, if it’s vibe related then you’d be a weasel.” You spoke, prompting laughs from everyone. Ron high fived you for the joke and you smiled wider than you thought possible.

The good mood didn’t last long, though. Only moments later Lavender Brown joined the group and comfortably sat herself in Ron’s lap. You watched him give her a quick kiss and wrap his arms around her. “What are we talking about?” She asked and it was as if your ears got covered. The sound faded, your smile dropped, your shoulders slumped. Ron would never like you back, you had to accept that. It was pathetic how you longed for the boy for so long.

So, you excused yourself and left the common room entirely to take a walk. You didn’t expect to end up outside the Room of Requirement, and you didn’t even feel like going inside. But the hall was dark and cold and you began hearing footsteps and the flickering light of Filch’s lantern slowly began illuminating the stone walls and with a haste movement, you went into the Room before Filch could walk around the corner and catch you.

You found yourself in a Room much different from the training grounds you had known while being part of the D.A. Tall piles of clutter seemed to reach the ceiling and despite the room being extremely vast, it felt tiny and crowded because of all the objects tossed and piled everywhere in sight. You walked on a path formed through columns made out of old boxes and books, all piled amongst stacked chairs, empty owl cages and rusty potions equipment. Loud bangs followed by grunts caused you to stop in your tracks and draw out your wand. The room in itself seemed unpredictable, and so you already had about six defensive spells ready to go in your mind and on the tip of your tongue.

You caught a glimpse of platinum blond hair before anything else. It looked messy – very different from the way Draco usually wore it: slick and perfect. Now, it gave you the feeling that he’d been vigorously running his fingers through it, causing it to become tousled. He was only in a white shirt – the robe, vest and tie laid disregarded on a near-by couch.

Lowering your wand, you gently knocked on a table to get his attention.

He turned around in a panic. His hand reached for his wand but stopped midair when he saw you. “What are you doing here?” Draco spat with no hesitation. His heart skipped a beat again, like it did on the night of the Yule Ball.

“I could ask you the same thing.” You responded, glancing at the cabinet in front of him. At the time, you didn’t think anything of it.

“None of your business.”

“I don’t care anyway.” You glared. “This room appeared to me like it did for you and since I think I need it, I’m not leaving.” With your arms crossed, you leaned against a random tossed out piece of furniture.

“Isn’t there a Gryffindor party you should be at?” Draco’s gaze remained cold and the scowl on his face didn’t falter.

“You know about that?”

“Don’t sound so surprised, I know everything that goes on around here.” He broke eye contact by focusing on folding up his sleeves. When his hand began working on his left forearm, he stopped abruptly, remembering. He went stiff at the realization, which you noticed. Before you could speak however, he looked back at you with a smirk, “Was Lavender Brown there so you ran away?” It was as if he didn’t look struck by lightning just two seconds before.

However, his words made you forget his strange behavior. “The hell? I don’t know what you mean.”

“Oh, come on, (Y/L/N). Everyone knows you have the hots for Weasley. Least you can do is own up to it.” He teased with a mixture of annoyance and amusement present on his face.

“Piss off, Malfoy.” Walking up to the old couch Draco’s uniform laid on top of, you sat down and watched as the dust flew out of its cushion. Draco groaned. “I’m just gonna nap here until I’m sure Filch left and isn’t near the Ravenclaw tower.”

Draco mumbled some things you didn’t bother to understand, and then silence befell both of you. He didn’t really bother to fight you to leave even though, in retrospect, he should have had. Maybe if you didn’t stay with him that night, he wouldn’t be meeting you in the Room months later with tears burning his eyes. But, to be fair, he couldn’t have known that night. That night, he just rolled his eyes at you breaking the silence ten minutes later, when he thought you were asleep.

“What are you even doing there?”

“I told you, none of your business.” He spat.

“Is that the vanishing cabinet Peeves broke a few years ago?”

Draco turned around. It was his turn to be surprised by your knowledge. “How do you know about that?” He couldn’t help but let his eyes roam over your figure as you sat cross-legged on the old couch he napped on countless times before. You wore casual clothes – which he always thought looked great on you, and your hair laid straight over your shoulders. The few candles he had lit around softly luminated your face with warm tones.

You smiled proudly at his question.

“Fred and George shoved Montague in it last year” you laughed “it was quite funny.”

Draco remembered the incident. He was, after all, the one who found Montague stuck in a bathroom after the encounter with the twins.

“You’re trying to fix it, aren’t you?” Draco watched you jump up from the couch and walk next to him to examine the cabinet. He suddenly felt on edge, exposed. The Ravenclaw in you was jumping to solve a problem, while the Slytherin in him was about to explode. “Have you tried a mending charm?”

“Of course, I tried a mending charm.” Draco answered with annoyance in his voice. You rolled your eyes. “It doesn’t work.”

“Well, then- “

“I don’t need nor want your help, (Y/L/N).” He glared down at you. “I can handle it myself.”

“Asshole.” You mumbled before taking a few steps back from Draco. He didn’t turn to you. Instead, he focused on his task even though his mind wasn’t on it anymore. He focused on your footsteps as you began to walk away without another word and before he could overthink, he spoke up softly. “But you can stay, if you want.”

You didn’t stop walking as you answered him. “I don’t.”

Draco then heard you utter “Lumos”, heard your footsteps getting quitter and quieter, then the heavy doors being pulled open. After they closed, he found himself surrounded by silence once again. Not dwelling on it, he pushed the thought of you away and resumed his work. Nothing was more important than his assignment.

Things slowly started to shift after that night.

The next day in Transfiguration as he was zoning out, a paper butterfly landed on his desk. He glanced around the room but saw nobody giving any sign of sending him the note. However, after he opened it and read its contents, his eyes immediately found you. On the paper was a list of incantations that would be useful in repairing things, and he knew you had sent it even though you looked focused on the textbook in front of you. It looked as if you were purposefully trying to ignore him, and Draco allowed the ghost of a smirk to form at the corners of his lips.

Two nights later, Draco walked into the Room of Requirement and you were already there. A few more candles than usual were lit as you sat on the (now clean looking) couch, reading a heavy, dense book. “Have they worked?” you asked without looking up from your book.

Draco sighed, loosening his tie. “No.”

And as time passed, you and Draco began spending more and more time together. Initially, you tried to help him fix the cabinet. It gave you a distraction from Ron and Lavender. But it was also obvious that fixing the old thing was important to him – he seemed desperate and for some reason, you felt like helping. And so, you found yourself sitting close to Draco on that old, tossed out couch with different heavy books resting in your lap every night, both searching for spells that could work. Each few day the space between you decreased until you reached a point where your knees touched and your shoulder pressed into his bicep. Sometimes you could even feel his minty breath on your face – just for a second. But the feeling began to linger even as you walked the stairs up to the Ravenclaw tower late at night.

You also found yourself thinking less and less about Ron.

Then, about a month after the Gryffindor party, the Katie Bell incident took place.

Harry began suspecting Draco of the attack and accused him of being a Death Eater. You didn’t go to the Room of Requirement for a few days after that because honestly, you were scared. You knew, deep in your heart that what Harry was saying made sense and because of that you started to believe that Draco’s cabinet wasn’t just some fun project. You lit on fire all the parchment you had written mending charms on, in a haste and with shaky hands.

You didn’t want to see him after that.

But you found yourself days later sneaking out of the tower late at night, quietly making your way to the seventh floor.

Draco got heavily scolded by Snape for the necklace attempt. The Professor found his action completely foolish and didn’t hesitate to let Draco know that. The boy arrived at the Room feeling beaten, defeated. On top of that, he was met by the empty couch and the broken cabinet and he snapped. In a fit of rage, he broke one of the cabinet’s doors and threw it at the couch. The noise he caused rang through the entire room, momentarily covering the silence. He couldn’t bear the sight of his failure any longer and the thought that you were now possibly scared of him after rumors of him being a Death Eater spread around the school, thanks to Potter, angered him even more.

“Training for the next Triwizard Tournament, Malfoy?”

Your voice made him turn around quickly, surprised look on his face.

A small smile danced at your lips, and you took out your wand. Pointing it at the broken door, you cast out “Repairo,” and the door lifted from the couch, gently levitating towards the cabinet and fixing itself. In the end, it looked as if nothing had happened. “At least this works, otherwise you would’ve had to pick up some muggle skills.” You teased.

Draco let out a small laugh, before his face fell again and he sat down on the dusty floor. His back rested against some other piece of forgotten furniture and he brought his knees up, hugging them to his chest. His head fell back, and he closed his eyes.

You quietly sat next to him with a huff.

“Why are you here?” Draco asked quietly.

After a moment of silence, you answered with honesty “I don’t know.” And you didn’t. You couldn’t understand why, despite the pit in your stomach that took shape as soon as Harry accused Draco of being a Death Eater, you were alone with him in a secret room, late at night.

Opening his eyes, Draco made a quick decision. He placed his left hand on your right knee, squeezing. Your eyes met – he looked calm; you were confused. “Do you trust me?” Draco’s voice was just a whisper. Alas, through the deafening silence of the Room, you heard him loud and clear.

“I don’t know.” You answered again. And, mirroring his impulsive move, you placed a hand over his. He felt cold at the touch and as you got used to the slightly stinging feeling, he found comfort in your warmth. “All I know is that I’m here, for some reason. I felt like seeing you.” You admitted, your voice tender and quiet.

Draco didn’t speak for a while. You thought you embarrassed yourself but didn’t dare to move.

“There are things about me that you really wouldn’t like if you knew.” The boy finally spoke. His eyes were glued to the cabinet that was a few feet from you both, but his mind was miles away. “I’m not a good man.” He admitted with no waver in his tone, no hesitation.

And maybe it was the daily, month-long meetings you’ve had with him. Or maybe it was the flicker of decency you saw in him when he got Pansy to release her painful grip on you the previous year. But your mind dug up small events and information buried deep in your memory that made you frown at his words. You remembered Dobby. Harry told you he was the Malfoy’s house elf who tried to keep him safe during second year, and it all seemed strange to you. You knew that house elves, if owned, could not act on their own volition no matter how strong their beliefs and inclinations were. In your mind it seemed unlikely that Dobby left the Malfoys without their knowledge and so, for the longest time you had a hunch it was Draco who sent Dobby to warn Harry. Especially since Lucius was the one who snuck Tom Riddle’s diary into Hogwarts. You were also quite sure it was Draco who helped Harry figure out the monster from the Chamber of Secrets was a Basilisk.

But overall, you knew Draco didn’t grow up in a good environment. He’d been heavily manipulated his entire life and it was in that moment, as you sat next to him on dirty floors, hand on top of his, that you decided whatever he was doing, he was doing either because of blackmail or manipulation.

“You can’t let the bad things from the past define you,” You whispered as your fingers slowly occupied the empty spaces between Draco’s own fingers. He was quick to grip your hand into his. “I think you are good. You’ve just been dealt shit cards.”

Draco didn’t show any emotion as he processed your words. But that night as he lay in his bed all he could think about were your words. Nobody had told him he was a good person before, and he’d never felt supported before in his life. And he felt a wave of emotions hit him all at once. He felt envy because Potter had had you all this time and because of your friendship with him, Draco didn’t get close to you sooner. He felt jealousy because he remembered you were in the Room in the first place because you were heartbroken over Ron – again, someone he didn’t like had all the things Draco felt he should’ve had instead. He felt comfort knowing you weren’t scared of him despite Potter filling your mind with (true) accusations. He felt hopeless because he was a Death Eater now and you were one of the good guys. He also felt entitled, selfish and determined because for the first time in a while, he found himself wanting something – someone, that he wanted for himself: you.

Over the next few months, you both unintentionally grew closer. Draco remembered every smile, every laugh shared between the two of you in the candlelight, hidden deep inside the Room of Requirement. Most days, he worked alone on the cabinet while you studied and pretended he wasn’t doing something potentially harmful. You both found yourselves finding comfort in the other’s mere presence.

You began to think less about Ron and more about Draco and it made you feel strangely guilty, especially when Ron would throw his arm around you like he used to in the Great Hall and you’d catch Draco’s eyes and excuse yourself to move back to the Ravenclaw table.

On certain nights you attempted to get Draco to do homework with you. But with each passing day, he became more and more anxious and afraid. And with each passing day, it hurt and worried you more and more. On a few occasions you did his Transfiguration homework for him just to keep him out of detention.

He owled you a Merry Christmas note during winter break but told you not to write him back. He knew you wished him happy holidays as well.

You gave him a Christmas present when you got back to Hogwarts – a ring, as you’d noticed he liked wearing them. His face lit up at the gesture and it was the first time he embraced you. The action was impulsive but it felt right. One of his arms wrapped around your lower back, the other cradled your head gently. His face buried in your neck and he held you so tight you didn’t dare move. He held you to make sure you were real and wouldn’t slip away from his grasp.

A little over a month later, Draco was feeling the pressure of his tasks heavier than ever. He felt sick each time he looked at the cabinet and you were noticing that. You were also noticing his complete disinterest in school and his reoccurring absences. He’d spend days in the Room, not even coming down to eat. You snuck him meals each time you could but sometimes you’d find them untouched on the floor.

“Alright, Draco. What’s going on?” You confronted him one night.

“Nothing.” He mumbled. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“Then help me understand,” you pleaded “Draco you’re not acting like yourself please, tell me what’s going on so I can help.” You never pleaded with a man before, never thought you would. Your ego felt too strong for this. And yet, there you were, standing behind a disheveled Draco Malfoy with an ache in your chest.

He ignored you.

You felt like throwing something at his head.

You watched as he opened the cabinet doors and took out a rotten apple. He held it in his hand for a second too long. It wasn’t unusual, you’ve watched him do this repeatedly over the past five months. You flinched when he threw the apple on the floor with vicious force. He then kicked the bottom of the cabined a bunch of times, yelling out in anger and frustration. His scream echoed through the Room. You pursed your lips.

“I can’t do this.” He finally spoke. “I can’t bloody do this and everyone’s going to die.” He started pacing around the small clearing amidst clutter. “My mum, my dad, me…you – we’re all going to die.” He kicked the plate of food you had brought him a few hours prior, spilling the contents over the floor.

You frowned. “What are you talking about?”

“He’s gonna kill you and mum in front of me, make me watch,” He was frantic “probably gonna torture you first so I die remembering your screams. Then,” he pinched his nose, wiped his mouth “then he’ll kill me. I’ll be last and everyone’s gonna be taking the piss out of me, the fucking kid who couldn’t fix a fucking,” he kicked the cabinet again “magic fucking cabinet!” he kicked and kicked until you could feel the pain he felt in his leg yourself.

You walked up to him and attempted to pull him away from the large wooden broken object, but he pushed you away forcefully. You stumbled back in shock. “How dare – “ You couldn’t finish your sentence, however. He hastily turned to face you, pulling up the sleeve of his left arm aggressively, exposing the Dark Mark.

No words came out of your mouth after that.

You couldn’t seem to peel your eyes off of the mark, and Draco watched you with a pained heart. Part of him expected you to run, another to pull out your wand and attack. He didn’t know which one was coming, he didn’t know which one he preferred. However, he didn’t expect you to walk up to him with slow, steady steps.

His eyes locked with yours as you took his arm into your own. It was as if the Room emptied and the only things in it were the two of you. Holding his arm to your chest, you got as close to him as possible. As he looked down at you, his heavy breath fanned your face. “It’s okay, Draco.” You whispered. “I understand.”

And you did. You understood his choice, understood the position he was forced into. And your heart ached for him.

That’s the night Draco remembered best. The way your figure was illuminated by the soft glow of yellow candles, the soft fabric of your sweater rubbing on his skin. The kindness in your eyes spreading warmth through his veins, the way your lips moved when you spoke his name. Most times he thought about conjuring a Patronus, Draco believed the memory of that night was what he needed to focus on in order to succeed.

With his hand on the back of your head, he quickly lowered himself to reach your height and caught your lips in a kiss. He felt you smiling into it and he found himself mirroring you, until you pulled away to giggle into his shoulder. He couldn’t do anything besides kissing the top of your head.

Days later you were both laying on the couch you had transformed into a cozy spot. You were focused on his Mark, tracing your fingers along the lines of it, gently. Draco knew he was supposed to feel pride in having the Mark – that’s what his family had told him, but he felt something close to shame each time he looked at it.

You rested your hand on top of it, covering it. “I’m sorry. But we’ll figure it out.”

“Together?”

“Together.”

A week later he was forced into the meeting with his mom and Snape at the Shrieking Shack. The following night he walked towards the Room of Requirement late, with heavy steps. It felt as if each movement he made on the way happened in slow-motion.

You were reading comfortably when he finally reached you. A smile formed on your lips upon seeing him, but it faded when you took in his appearance, his sour face, hardened figure, stone gaze. “What’s wrong?”

Draco didn’t speak, only pointed his wand towards you. You froze. “Draco?” His hand shook, his face wavered. You were confused.

“I have to do this, (Y/N). He’ll kill you otherwise.” Draco’s voice cracked.

“No, he won’t. You’re a skilled Occlumentist, right? He can’t get into your mind.” You immediately caught on.

He shook his head. “He’ll know, he’ll know. Snape knows, mum knows,” he sounded so scared that you attempted to get up to comfort him, but he threated so you sat back down “he’ll know.”

Tears formed and blurred your vision as your heart picked up speed.

“You know, I didn’t wanna think about you, I wanted to stay focused. I came here to do a task, that’s it. I came to be great, to do great things for the Dark Lord.” Draco began, “But then I saw you. I’ve wanted you since fourth year and then here you were, being good to me and…you woke up a weakness inside me. And I got selfish, I put my mission aside to get something for myself.”

Tears now ran down your face, and Draco mirrored you. You shook your head, silently pleading for him to reconsider.

“But I have a mission, (Y/N) and it’s so important. I can’t be distracted. And I can’t have you being associated with me – it’ll get you killed and I can’t – I can’t have it.”

The candles flickered and for a split second your mind went to a Divination class, where Trelawney explained candle magic. Their dancing light showed instability, chaotic energy while its tall flame indicated success brought about with complications. The air felt cold as you stared at Draco who hadn’t fully stepped into the candlelight. An abyss of darkness stood tall behind him, the sights of it deepening the pit in your stomach. Despite his shaky hands, dark circles underneath his saddened eyes and hollow cheeks, Draco looked put-together. His hair wasn’t messy like it was the first night you found him in the Room. It was back to its slick, flawless style. He wore his all-black suit, and his tie wasn’t loosened.

“I also can’t have you walk out of here knowing everything about me.” His voice hardened and for the first time while being with him, you felt fear.  

“I won’t tell anyone.” Your voice was small. You sat up, your eyes beginning to look for a way out.

“I can’t risk it, you’re friends with Potter. You’re one of the good guys.”

“I won’t put you in danger, Draco.”

He grimaced at your words as if they’ve hit him with the force of a Cruciatus Curse. He tried not to let any more tears fall. You took his reaction as an opportunity to get closer to him. Maybe if you could take away his wand, touch him. Maybe then you could change his mind.

“I won’t endanger you either,” He whispered. “That’s why I have to do this.” At that, he lowered his wand and took two long strides towards you. Another one of his unpredictable actions that left you frozen in your spot. In a swift motion, he cupped your face between his calloused palms. “You know this is the right choice.”

“No,” you whispered and shook your head “no, it’s not. You can teach me Occlumency, I can help you,” your fearful eyes bore into his saddened ones, his heart ached at your words, at the fear he was capable of instilling in you. “We’re a good team, remember? I can help.” You kept pleading as your own hands rested on top of his. You felt the ring you’d given him still on his finger.

He simply shook his head with a small, almost unnoticeable smile on his face. “I’ve already corrupted you enough.” Draco admitted and you were taken aback; rendered speechless. “You’ve been covering for me with your friends, lying to Professors, basically doing my homework while I’m working on bringing the school down.”

Your heart dropped; hands started shaking. Draco felt it. He felt the weight of his words starting to crush you. Down in your mind you knew he was doing something bad with the cabinet, but you didn’t think it was so drastic.

Draco continued. Hurt her to save her, his mom’s words rang through his mind. “I’m using the Vanishing Cabinet to bring Death Eaters into Hogwarts,” his words made you remember the Death Eaters attack at the Quidditch World Cup, where you were almost trampled. You remembered the attack on London that sent one of your family members to the Hospital. You remembered how ruthless the Death Eaters were at the Ministry, when they were throwing deadly curses at a bunch of teenagers.

And there it was.

The look of betrayal, hurt and fear on your face that Draco never wanted to see. He tried to remember the night you saw his Mark, the night you accepted and comforted him. That’s what he wanted to remember, not this. “After I get them here, I’m going to kill Dumbledore.” He continued.

Chills erupted on your body and you recoiled from his touch.

“I knew you were planning something bad, but this, Draco?” You couldn’t speak louder than a whisper as you took small steps away from him. He knew this was coming; the disgust, the unacceptance. Was your speech about understanding him all bullshit? “You don’t have to- “

“Yes, I do. It’s my mission.”

“No, listen to me. You’re not this person, you’re not a Death Eater. I know you, Draco. You’re still a good person put in a terrible situation but it’s not all lost, we can-“ Despite your fear, you still found yourself comforting him, pleading with him. Your mind lead an inner battle between understanding the boy’s motives and wanting to let Harry know of everything that was happening.

You couldn’t let Dumbledore die, couldn’t let Death Eaters attack Hogwarts.

“I cursed Katie Bell. Almost killed her.” Draco cut you off.

“I know.” You deadpanned. He parted his lips and frowned in confusion. “I saw the necklace in your bag a week before it all happened. Then I saw it on McGonagall’s desk. It wasn’t hard to piece together the puzzle.” You explained.

Despite the warmth spreading through his heart at the thought of you not abandoning him even after knowing that all those months ago, at the thought that he’d finally found someone to be on his side for once in his life, someone who understood and maybe even actually loved him – despite it all, Draco’s eyes had never showed less emotion.

You wanted to cry but didn’t. Your ego won.

“You know I have to do this, (Y/N).” His voice didn’t waver anymore. The more reasons you gave him to love you, the more his decision solidified in his mind. “And you know I’m doing the right thing,” he wanted to hold you so bad, but he didn’t move; instead, you both stood feet away from each other. “Knowing all this puts you in danger. Coming here every night puts you in danger hell, even looking at me in the Great Hall puts you in danger. I can’t see you brought into the manor tied up, imprisoned and killed as a punishment for me. And you know I’m right. I’m not just some irrelevant follower, I’ve sat at a damn table with The Dark Lord countless times this summer. He’s been in my home; he knows me personally.”

You couldn’t look at him the more he spoke. So, your gaze was stuck on a candle, but your eyes remained unfocused.  

“You’re smart.” Draco kept speaking, his tone now loud and confident. “This is the part where you tell me that even though you wanna change my mind, you know I’m doing the right thing,” he even joked. You wanted to cry but couldn’t speak. He was right. “Tell me you’re proud of me because I’m putting someone else’s wellbeing above my own for once” his voice became muffled, as if he spoke from underwater. It was silent for a moment as Draco watched you process his words, “You’ll be on the right side of history after this. You’ll go back to Weasley who’s a better choice for you than I could ever be – even though it kills me to say that.”

All you could do was shake your head in disbelief.

By the time you looked back up at him, he had a few tears running down his face and his wand pointed at you. And so you cried.

“We were a good team, weren’t we?” Draco spoke with one last saddened smile.

“Draco, please. I love –“ you began, but Draco couldn’t bear hear it.

You watched Draco wipe his tears with a swift motion, before a white light formed at the tip of his wand. His voice came out strong, unwavering, and determined. His hand stopped shaking.

“Obliviate,” Draco uttered before you could react.

#draco malfoy #draco x reader #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy fanfiction #draco malfoy fanfic #draco malfoy one shot #draco malfoy imagines #harry potter #harry potter imagine #draco malfoy angst #draco malfoy x reader #ron weasley #ron weasley imagine #hhtsh

[xtinyaurora]

Can you write punishment sex with dom yandere/possessive/psycho female or gn reader please it would make me super happy because there's not really any dark smut with dom reader for atz or in general but if you can't that's okay.

Ateez reaction: Punishment sex with Yandere!Y/N

————————————————————————

➼ requested?: yes

➼ genre: yandere, smut

➼ pairing: sub!Ateez x Dom!neutral!reader (Mingis reaction includes the reader ridding him, but I didn’t mention a gender / it’s just a random hole, you can choose which one, lol.)

➼ Word-count: 1,4k+

➼ Warnings: nsfw content, strong language, cursing, spanking, spitting, slapping, punching, breaking bones, fingering, toys, hair pulling, violence, humiliating/ degradation, pet names, blood, yelling/ screaming, cuffing, bondage, yandere themes, kinda psychopathic, dark themes, mature themes, jealousy (?), and a lot more 💀

➼ Note: This is not based on their real behavior or meant to represent real life. This is simply a fan fiction. In no way am I condoning, justifying, encouraging or promoting yandere behavior or lifestyle. Read at your own risk!

➼ A/N note: Thank you so much for requesting this. Also, I’d love to get some feedback for this one!

————————————————————————

Park Seonghwa

You slowly traced the whip over his naked body, laughing at his frightened state. His hands were tied above his head, bound to the ceiling. The blindfold on his eyes made it even harder for him to figure out your next movements. Another harsh slap on his upper body was made, making the boy cry out in pain. „What? Can’t take it, anymore? Well, that’s what you get for yelling at me, dumb bitch!“ you shouted at the now crying boy. He begged for mercy, making your lips curl up again. You got closer to him, grabbing his ass and squeezing it hardly. A quiet moan escaped his mouth, but got replaced by a much louder one, after you entered two fingers into his butthole. You felt how he sneezed his red ass on your fingers, now whining. „Psssh, I don’t wanna hear you, is that understood, Hwa?” The boy quickly nodded his head, you giving him a light kiss on his shoulder. „Good boy. Let’s start playing then.”

Kim Hongjoong

„Agh!“ did boy growl out loudly, after you hit him with the metal chain, again. „Shut up, I said I don’t want to hear any noises, didn’t I?” you screamed at him, receiving a cried out „Yes! S-sorry.” You then grabbed his neck screaming so hard that your spit flew into his face. „You better be fucking sorry, slut! And you better don’t make the same mistake twice, touching yourself and watching strangers fuck, is that understood?!” He started to cry harder, scared of how far you’d go. „Yes! I won’t do it again, I am sorry! I just couldn’t hold back, I don’t know what came over me, I am just a dumb pet.” You let out a chuckle, making the cuffed and kneeling male look up to you. He watched you with his teary eyes, you slowly getting nearer to his face, letting go of his neck. You started to kiss him, then you sucked his neck, leaving hikeys on the pretty boy. Soft moans left his mouth. „This feels so good.” He then received a hard slap on his cheek. „You’re not supposed to enjoy this, Hongjoong. This is your punishment, so shut up or I will be even rougher with you.”

Jeong Yunho

„Does this feel good?” you asked the puppy like boy, squeezing his giant dick while moving the vibrator in and out his hole. „Hell yea!” Did he moan out loudly, making you smirk. „Oh yea? Do you know what will feel even better you slutty bitch?” did you ask, stopping your movements. He looked at you, a fucked out expression sitting on his face, sweat flowing down. He watched you as you went to the table, opening the box which was placed on it. You opened it, looking at all the knives which were laying in there. You picked out a karambit, holding it up, admiring it. You stopped when the boy that was tied on the chair started talking. „Oh god, please don’t.” You smirked again, raising one of your eyebrows. „Oh babyboy, did you really think I will pleasure you for misbehaving, not following the rules like I taught you to? Oh, how sweet you are, my giant puppy. Let me make your beautiful body even prettier, yea?”

Kang Yeosang

Blood was dripping from his body, hands tied behind his back, head on the ground, kneeling at the same time. He breathed heavily, trying to catch his breath. „You like that, dumb bitch? Like getting fucked by toys, huh? Oh, baby, I will make sure that this hole gets ripped apart, don’t worry about that. Now let’s see if you ever dare to kiss someone else’s that is not me, stupid thing.” You pulled at his leash that was tied around his neck. „If I talk to you, then you look me in the eyes!” you screamed at him. You then spitted right into his face. Yeosang twisted his face then, making you mad. „What? Are you disgusted by me you ungrateful bitch?!” you screamed again. Another spit was followed. You then took of all of your cloth off and laid down in front of him. He looked at you confused, you giving him an angry expression in return. „Get to work you idiot.”

Choi San

San screamed extremely loud, not being able to take the overstimulation he was now receiving. His sensitiv red nipples hurted from the clippers you puttet on, but damn this boy loved the pain. You see, San generally loves pain, that’s why he loves to misbehave from time to time, so he can get a good, painful punishment. You grabbed his balls digging your nails in them, another scream leaving his mouth. You pulled the toy out of him, starting to stoke him slowly, making him moan. „You like that?” „Yes! Please, keep going.” You got on your knees, sucking him slowly. A lot of whines started to leave his mouth. In the middle of nowhere, you bit into his dick. It was so hard, that it started bleeding. „Ouch!” „What, can’t take it Sanie? Isn’t this what you wanted? Be grateful for whatever I give you.” The boy hysterical nodded, apologizing and waiting for your next move.

Song Mingi

His hands and legs were tied to the bed posts, a mouth gag in his moth. You were currently riding his cock, him crying from being overstimulated, not being able to move or speak. You slapped him. Then punched him with your fist a few times. You focused on putting as much as force in your punch as possible and you kinda succeeded. Not only did his nose started to bleed, but you heard how his bone cracked. A satisfied grin started to form on your face. Mingi started to cry harder, about to reach his fifth high of this night. You started to bounce harder, being close yourself. „Wanna come, Mingi-ah? You little bitch, do you deserve to come another time, huh? I am the only one who makes you feel this good and I am the only one who’s allowed to make you feel this way, is this understood?! If I see you near someone that is not me again, than trust me I won’t only hurt them, but you in a way that no one wants to experience, okay? Get that trough your dumb head, big boy and don’t dare to disappoint me again.”

Jung Wooyoung

„Fuck, yes!” screamed your handsome but bratty boyfriend. You was laying in the ground, you stepping on his dick. Wooyoung is another one that loves pain and another one that wanted to get punished. „You dirty little bitch, who told you to enjoy this, huh?” He provocatively smirked at you, actually making you mad. Oh, you will whipe that smirk out of his face! You stepped harder on him, his face changing within a second. „Not so funny anymore, huh? How about we go a level higher. Should I put a nail through your dick or should I just chop it off your dirty body, huh?” The boy started smirking again, his next sentence making you go wild. „You can suck me off instead.” You immediately grabbed his neck, squeezing it as hard as you could. „Okay you little brat, that’s enough! Who do you think you are talking to, huh? Don’t you dare to disrespect me like that EVER again. I am the one who’s above you, so keep that dirty tongue in that shitty mouth of yours or I am going cut it off instead.“

Choi Jongho

„Agh, eighty seven! Eighty eight. Eighty nine.” and so on. Jongho was currently on all fours, while you were whipping his ass with a long wooden stick. He started to cry even harder, so lowered is head but got pulled up by you again, since you had putted a leash on his neck. „Ouch, fuck! Please give me a second.” begged the boy, but you had no mercy. „What? I don’t think that I heard a number. Guess we have to start all over again.” He was startled by your words, turning around quickly. The tears that were formed in his eyes started to fall. „P-please don’t. I didn’t mean to.” You scoffed, harshly grabbing his hair. „Oh yea? And you really think I care about that? You only had one job, Jongho. It’s not my fault that you’re too dumb to do it. I’ve warned you before. I’ve warned you not to break the rules or there will be consequences, but you didn’t listen. You choose this yourself, so shut up and start counting from zero again.”

#ateez #ateez ff #ateez imagines #ateez reactions #ateez scenarios #ateez x reader #kpop imagines #kpop reactions #kpop scenarios #yandere ateez #ateez x gender neutral reader #ateez yandere #ateez smut #kim hongjoong #choi jongho #choi san #song mingi #park seonghwa #jung wooyoung #jeong yunho #kang yeosang #ateez au #ateez wooyoung #ateez seonghwa #ateez hongjoong #ateez yeosang #ateez yunho #ateez mingi #ateez jongho #ateez san

[austarus]

Nash Wells x Reader - Squandered Altruism

*A/N: The picture/edit/gif does not belong to me. It belongs to its rightful owner.

**Please don’t forget to comment, like, and reblog. It means a lot to content creators of all kinds!

***I’d also like to thank @grimtamlain-writes​ for being my beta reader.

****I am not to be held liable for any mental breakdowns, please direct everything to the comments or tags. Also, when you get to the first scene change, it is crucial to put on the song ‘Hold On’ by Chord Overstreet. It’ll make sense when you read through.

MASTERLIST

Word Count: 3750

You shrugged, the tension in the air had settled as everyone vacated the Speed Lab. Turning to walk away, your mind mulled over a few things. Before you could take a step towards the exit, Nash latched a gloved hand onto your upper arm. He maneuvered you towards him and handed you the MAD 2.2. Frowning, you placed it on your forehead. Whenever he handed the telepathic device to you, you knew he needed a second opinion with the racket that goes on in his head. He had trusted you with that aspect of his life. Also, the explorer would get inklings of feelings when you missed his other selves and wanted to talk to them.

“Hm?” You let out a questioning noise only for Nash to turn to an open space.  

“What?” Nash let out brusquely, eyebrows raised, and nostrils flared as he gestured with his arms. “What?”

You saw Harry’s form emerge from the shadows. The beating in your heart skipped a beat or two. The mental personification of the Earth-2 genius had his hands pocketed in his typical dark wash jeans as he padded over to you and Nash. “Well, it's nice to see you, too. So, it turns out we cracked the fuel problem - for this ASF of yours.” Harry’s icy blue eyes landed on you. “Love,” he breathed out.

Waving at your second love, you smiled gently at him. “Hey, Harry.”

“Pas facile non.” Sherloque appeared as well, hair slightly tousled under his fedora. “Not easy, not great.” The detective tipped his hat towards you, “Mon fleur. C’est toujours un plaisir d'être en votre présence."

“Le plaisir est tout la mein, mon bien détective.” Yeah, he had been teaching you a bit of French. Nash rolled his eyes at you two.

“But so much fun, huh?” You giggled as HR bounced into mental existence with a drumstick in hand. “I love all the brainstorming. Plus, we got all the Wellses back together again.” Let’s just say you internally squealed at how cute the novelist still is when he gets all excited. “It’s been a while, Kitten.”

“It has, puppy.”

“So, I expect I need no introduction,” A new Wells appeared in a grandiose manner. “But, yes, it is I, master of stage and screen, Harrison Orson Wells.” Orson accented his name in that deep voice of his and a slight bow as he stood dramatically next to Sherloque. You swore you saw Sherloque roll his eyes.

“Uh?” You tilted your head before looking at Nash with confusion laced on your features. So, he’s definitely a drama bish. He met your eyes and sent you a look that said to ‘ignore him and roll with it’ until the end of the conversation.

“Okay, you're new,” Nash crossed his arms at the finely dressed artisan. The geological explorer was already fed up with 3 Wells the team were familiar with, he didn’t need this nitwit joining in.

“Nash, as I know you know, when our worlds died in Crisis,” Harry began once more when no other Wells decided to join the party and interrupted his explanation. “Particles from our brain waves were drawn to you like-”

“-Like a moth drawn to a cosmic flame.” Orson was doing something with his hands that you couldn’t describe, looking off into the distance as he spoke.

What… the fuck?

“Whatever happened to show, don't tell?” Harry just fucking shook his head at Orson, a completely disappointed expression on his face. The man was just disturbed at this version of his doppelganger. At least to Harry, HR was more manageable to be around than Orson. “HR?” HR knew that signal and tossed a drumstick to his handsome doppelganger. Your eye twitched at Orson’s yelp when the two boys did that. Who allowed this dumbass in this conversation? Can we boot him out? You kept those thoughts to yourself. However, it did make your insides twist happily to see that Harry and HR were working fluidly together in contrast to a few years ago where Harry was at HR’s throat for every single detail.

“Oh, nice catch,” Sherloque complimented the exchange and Nash just rubbed his face. He needed these four to get to the point so Nash can go about riling you up today. It was a daily thing he did to see you all fiery and snarky for him.

“I love this part,” the Earth-19 novelist murmured and pulled out a rather detailed sketchbook accompanied by a dramatic gasp.

“So, there are multiversal particles inside you right now, Nash, made of synaptic energy.” Harry started to explain with the drumstick in hand and HR doing the pointing onto the page. You have no idea what the fuck Orson was doing, some hand camera gesture that didn’t need to happen. He was really trying to sell his point of being a theatrical arts master, but whatever. “Now, we take those particles and you put them in the Fusion Sphere, theoretically, they could power the ASF forever.” Rather than 100% paying attention to Harry’s speech, you were about… 75% there and 25% resisting the urge to face-palm at HR and Orson’s antics on the side. Sherloque had elected to ignore them, and Nash just looked at himself, patting his chest.

HR did another dramatic gasp as he spoke, “Forever.”

“Not only would Allen get his speed back, but I'd be rid of you lot forever,” Nash summarized for himself and Sherloque simply shrugged, rolling his eyes to the side at the connection made. The detective was 100% done and exhausted with himself.

“No, you'd be gone, too,” HR simply responded, nodding his head along. “I mean, because of the whole organic receptor thing. Oof.” The three men to HR’s side stopped and turned to him slowly. Your eyes almost bugged out of your head. You and Nash got the subtle message that HR wasn’t supposed to say that.

“Excuse me?” The blood in your veins turned to ice as goosebumps pebbled your skin. You looked at the lot incredulously as your heart fell into the balling pit of dread that resided in your stomach. “What?”

“What?” HR asked innocently, the others continued to give him unnerved stares.

“What's he talking about?” Nash asked, placing his hands on his hips. You crossed your arms and sent Harry a heated look. He knew that look and he’s slightly thankful he wasn’t physically there. Or else.

“Multiversal particles are just... they're very volatile, right?” Harry gestured to the sphere while HR did his thing with the sketchbook. “And there's no way they'll stay in that sphere long enough to be charged unless... unless we have an organic receptor.” Nash blinked at Harry, collecting his thoughts and willing words to come out. But he couldn’t. Death? So soon?

“The organic receptor is Nash then.” You unfurled an arm, trying to make sense of all this in your mind. You pointed to Nash as he pointed to himself.

“For the Flash to run again, Nash Wells must die.” Harry concluded as hurt and betrayal flickered in your eyes. It pained him to utter those words, but it was the only solution the Council had managed with the ASF.

“No.” You whispered, feeling your body throb at Harry’s revelation. “Hell no! I just got you back,” you raised your voice and turned to Nash desperately then turned back to the Wells men, “all of you. No one is being sacrificed. You all may not value your lives as much as it is right now, but I do. Call it selfish or whatever, I don’t care! But no one is dying for a stupid artificial force.” Water started to blur your vision. First HR’s death, then Devoe using Harry as a guinea pig, then Crisis, the Exorcism with Thawne a few months ago, and now this. HR looked off to the side and Sherloque fidgeted with his pocket watch, hearing the crack in your voice. Orson was the only one that was indifferent to your tone of voice. “You know more than anyone that artificial solutions don’t last long, they can’t fully replace a natural force.” Your voice trembled, “No one is- is doing that for an artificial force that won’t be a permanent solution.” Your head hurt, your heart hurt, your everything hurt.

“It is,” Harry challenged you, but he knew better than to do that. He knew not to push you to a certain degree.

“You don’t know that for sure!” A tear fell as you used your powers to leave, to escape- you couldn’t breathe. You needed to go home; you needed some air. Your throat constricted as you made it home, collapsing on your bed as your heartbeat increased rapidly. The tears fell freely, straining the pillow you clutched in your shaky hands.

Back at the labs, Nash gave his doppelgangers a hard look. He knew what had just happened, knew he needed to get to you before… “No.”

“Whoa.”

“What?”

“No way!” Nash shouted at them. He couldn’t just… drop it all for Barry. What about his life? It’s Barry’s problem anyway. How can he just throw his life away for a man he didn’t really get to know until recently.

“Nash, you're our organic receptor.” Harry tried once more, desperation in his voice. “You're the only one that can contain us inside the Fusion Sphere.”

“By dying?”

“Ye-”

“-By dying, Harry?”

“Yes.” The answer was absolute to Harry. This was their only way of helping Barry be the hero that he is.

“How stupid do you think I am?”

“Come on.”

“I have a life here now. I have people that I actually don't hate.” Nash gritted his teeth, his mind falling back to you. “I have her. I'm not gonna give all that up so Barry Allen can run fast!”

“Nash, you're the only one of us that can help Allen.”

“And I will, Harry, by figuring out another way to save Allen that doesn't mean I have to commit suicide!”

“Nash!” Harry called out to him as they watched him step away at a hurried pace.

“Where he's going?” Sherloque sighed from where he stood, watching the once-multiversal explorer leave.

“Bozos!” Nash yelled as he waved a hand in the air as if to shoo them away, storming out to find you.

“Didn't see that coming.” HR mumbled to the others. Harry ran a hand through his hair. One by one the Wells men disappeared until Orson was the only one left on stage.

“And scene,” Orson whispered, the hypothetical curtain had dropped on this particular moment.

***

Loving and fighting, accusing, denying

I can't imagine a world with you gone

The joy and the chaos, the demons we're made of

I'd be so lost if you left me alone

Sucking in a sharp breath, Nash popped the window open and climbed into your living room. Shutting the window, he set his bag and jacket down by the couch. He could hear the tune of music echo in your apartment. Stepping towards the front door, he placed his boots there. The treasure hunter took in a breath as he carried a paper bag and placed it in the kitchen. Maybe you’d want to eat later? Food always helped, even if you only ended up taking a few bites.

Nash knocked on your bedroom door a few times before entering. You laid under the covers; a pillow gripped tightly to your body. Light sniffles left you. You didn’t look up at him, eyes dulled from all your tears. He swallowed thickly, gently coming close to you on the bed. He recognized this song; it was from your sad Spotify playlist. It wasn’t the first time he had seen you like this. For once, since the lab incident today the noise in his head was at a volume of zero. He can hear his own thoughts. Nash wondered if the others could sense your sorrow.

“Did you have another one?” You nodded as he pulled your shaking form closer to his. You left your pillow. Nash’s grip tightened around you. The tears fell all over again. You didn’t want him to let go. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here fast enough.” You shook your head and buried it deeper into his shirt. “I’m sorry I couldn’t take your pain away.”

You locked yourself in the bathroom

Lying on the floor when I break through

I pull you in to feel your heartbeat

Can you hear me screaming?

“Please don’t leave me,” you murmured as the song ran that line, you pulled back to look at him. Nash cupped your face gently, his thumb wiping away the tear stains from your skin. You can’t lose him again – any of them. Not when things started to feel right, to go in the right direction for you.

“I won’t.” Because in the end, it was his decision. His conscious. Not the others. They may take up residence in his mind, but they do not harness the power to dictate his actions. Nash kissed your cheek sweetly then your quivering lips. The song continued to play in the background. Nash held you close, knowing when you’ve calmed down and regained control of your breathing that you would want to talk then. Blood roared in his ears.

Hold on, I still want you

Come back, I still need you

Let me take your hand, I'll make it right

I swear to love you all my life

Hold on, I still need you

“Y-you need to stop breaking into m-my apartment,” you hiccupped, trying your best to calm your nerves. To stop the stutter in your voice. Nash played with your hair as you two laid there in the dim light of your bedroom. “Or else my bat is g-going to make friends with th-that handsome mug of yours.”

“But I like keeping you on your toes,” Nash pouted, but a small smile crossed your face. It was totally worth the break-in to see that smile. “I… enjoy this. You. Being here with you. You’re exactly like the others had said when they came into my mind.” You gave your boyfriend a quizzical look as your head throbbed from all the crying. Soft breaths left you, your breathing beginning to even out. “A game-changer – a precious treasure to cherish. I- we shouldn’t be willing to give it up for anything.”

“Nash.”

“I won’t give this up. The others – they should know more than anything that another way is always possible.” You cupped Nash’s face with both hands as he spoke in hushed tones, your thumbs rubbing his stubbly cheeks. “I don’t want to die.” A single, pesky tear fell from Nash’s beautiful eyes. His expression, those whispered words – they broke you.

Hold on, I still want you

Come back, I still need you

***

“The plane's only three minutes out.” Barry looked up to Nash, exhausted and desperate for a solution. “We need a plan.”

“No,” Nash licked his lips, his throat constricting. “We need the Flash.”

“What-” A hard throb hit echoed in your body as Nash pulled you in for one last kiss. The kiss was hard, it was meaningful. It meant the world to you. It was a good-bye. Pulling away, Nash gave you a softened look before pushing you from him and connecting his hand to the ASF sphere.

“Nash, no!” You shouted, taking a step towards him, Barry had rounded the table to stand by you, holding you back by your arms.

“That'll kill you!” Barry shouted at him,

“I know. But I'm the organic receptor that we need.” Nash grunted in pain as the sphere siphoned off him- off his doppelgangers. “You're getting your speed back.”

“Hey! Hey! We'll find another way.”

“What other way, Allen?” Nash retorted to Barry. The speedster bit his lip. He knew he couldn’t get near the sphere without it absorbing his life force. Not while Iris was still out there in Eva’s clutches.

Water welled up in your eyes as you struggled against Barry’s grip. He wouldn’t let go. You barely made it a few centimeters close to the man you love. No, take me instead. “Nash, please- Stop, I can’t-”

“-There's no time.” He cut you off, the pained look on your face twisted your heart achingly.

“Nash,” Allegra tried to talk him out of it. “You don't have to do this just to prove a point.”

“I'm not doing it to prove a point.” Nash’s energy was whittling, but he needed to hold on. “I'm doing it because I won't watch you die. I won't let any of you die.” His eyes met yours. “I love you too much to have you die because of my selfishness.” He hated the words that he had to tell you, but their time had run out and there was no other solution.

“Don't! Don't! Don't!” Chester stopped Allegra. “No, no, no, no, no. If you touch him, we'll lose you, too.”

“Nash, please. I can't let anyone else die for me. I've already lost so many people.”

“Do you know what I feel right now, Allen? Pride. Honor. It's been so long since I felt those things. And it's not just me. The Council feels it, too. And we've made our decision. We're doing this, Allen.” Nash groaned, turning to Chester. “Is it charging?”

The scientist back to the computers. “Uh...” The ASF continued to whir. “Yeah, the Fusion Sphere is charging.

“How can I be the Flash without a Wells on this team?”

“You've always been the Flash. You always will be... with or without me.”

“I can’t live without you. You know that!” You begged, fighting Barry again, but to no avail. Barry fought his own tears. “Please don’t do this to me. Please don’t go. Please don’t leave me- You promised. You promised me you wouldn’t go. That there was another way.” Your words pierced through his heart. He didn’t want to leave you alone- but you wouldn’t live the next day if this plane bomb was to strike the city. Tears fell and Nash’s eyes watered at your broken image. Sharp pains continued to shoot up through his body. One by one, a Wells succumbed their life for Barry.

“I will always love you, my precious gem.” Nash whispered as he screwed his eyes shut. “Whether in this life or the next.”

You saw a halo-like energy form around Nash’s head. Rocking his head back then forward, Nash smiled at you and Barry. Only… this wasn’t Nash’s trademark smile. “Hey, B.A. How's it going?” HR chuckled at his friend sadly. “You're so fast. No, no, no. B.A., don't be upset. This... this is not goodbye. It's just... till our next communion. Kitten, you’ve accepted me when I first got here. Saw me for who I am, not who I pretended to be. You allowed me to be me, to write and exist without doubting my very existence. This isn’t the end, my love. I’ll always be right here with you. Until fate allows our paths to cross again.” A shaky breath left you, your head felt like lead and cement had been poured into it.

Again, the energy-halo appeared over Nash’s body. This time a French grunt left his lips.

“Not great, ‘mm? Our current situation, ‘uh? But... it vill be.” Sherloque panted, a string of French curses leaving him. His eyes met yours. “You showed me zhat- love is an entity to give, mais to also ‘ave reciprocated. You taught me to break out of zhe abusive cycle I ‘ad locked myself in, mon fleur. And for zhat, I zhank you dearly, mon amour. Je t'aime.”

The halo appeared one last time, Nash’s features changing to that disgruntled look you’d see too often. Harry. “Allen... you know, when I came to your stupid Earth...” The Earth-2 genius chuckled at the memories, the years that had passed. “With its good burgers... I was a broken man. Lost, angry, blah, blah, blah, and you showed me… how to be a better person. And I'll always be grateful for our friendship.” His eyes locked on yours. Harry always hated it when you cried, when he was the reason you did. “(Y/N), you were persistent. You annoyed the hell out of me with your kindness and that… smile of yours. You made me feel things I hadn’t felt in years. Hadn’t allowed myself to feel because all I saw was my work and Jess. You loved me, showed me how to love again, and how to love myself. You stuck with me after Devoe, always checking in. Always so bubbly when you crossed the breach. I’ve never loved anyone more than you and Tess. Forgive me, my love.” Harry whispered to his dear friend, “Now... Run. Barry, run.”  

The emotion in each Wells’ eyes as they had given you their personal message forever burned in your mind.

“We're at 95%.” Chester swallowed as he moved his gaze back to Harry.

“You got this.” Harry raised an eyebrow at the speedster. Barry let go of you, letting you fall to the ground as he used the remainder of his speed to get on the speed platform to channel the ASF into his system. Allegra ran to you, holding you from taking any steps towards him. You were frozen in her arms, the hairs on your neck stood as your heart began to shatter. Strained grunts and groans escaped Harry’s lips; the pain was becoming too much as the Fusion Sphere roared loudly. Harry glanced at Allegra and Chester. “After I'm gone... look out for one another. Look after her.” He sent you a wink with a sad smile as his body was 80% disintegrated. The energy from the ASF charged Barry allowing him to leave for the plane.

As Nash’s body disintegrated to nothing your scream pierced the atmosphere, the windows in the lab shattering as your powers vehemently escaped your body and darkened the labs. You felt numb, you couldn’t see. You felt yourself slipping. Where? You didn’t know. A few lines echoed in your head.

Hold on, I still want you

Come back, I still need you

Everything went black…

***

French Translation:

“Mon fleur. C’est toujours un plaisir d'être en votre présence." - Always a pleasure to be in your presence

“Le plaisir est tout la mein, mon bien détective.” – The pleasure is all mine, my good detective

Pas facile non - Not easy either

#harrison wells x reader #nash wells x reader #Nash Wells #harrison wells #harry wells x reader #harry wells #sherloque wells x reader #Sherloque Wells #hr wells x reader #hr wells #the flash #the flash cw #the flash fanfiction #post-crisis

[solarsleepless]

what r max's stims? :)

SHSHJSHJSJSJSHJSH

okAY yes i have many thoughts abt adhd max i am vibrating rn

okay so first of all theres the average well known "flappy hands"

but she really likes it when she has sweaters with longer sleeves because then she can just flap them around

leg bounce leg bounce leg bounce

cracking her knuckles. she does this SO often its unreal

she doesnt have many vocal stims but she goes "ba ba ba" or just humming and singing sometimes

also running her hand on the bottom of her skateboard, and/or rolling the wheels

just being on her skateboard and swaying is a huge stim

chewing her shirt lmao

im also gonna say that she also stims by pressing on buttons and other stuff in the arcade. its just Nice To Do

also stims by kicking off of the ground on her skateboard. very nice

well this is gonna turn into adhd max rant get ready

she had adhd combined (like yours truly) and finds it hard to concentrate in class

she totally hyperfixated on video games at some point

and comics probably

and skateboarding too

she is a VERY picky eater. like she could barely eat stuff in california, so when she moves to hawkins it only gets worse

sensory issues my abhorreeed

can't stand too-loud noises (b!lly of course knows this and turns up music in his car so that he can't even hear himself)

that being said she cant STAND the silence and always needs background noise (she and el bond over liking white noise from tv)

SHE LOVES TANGLERS SO MUCH

goes nonverbal sometimes because of the fear that if she says anything itll just make things worse. the party + steve is very concerned at first, then learn to live with it

WHISTLE STIM WHISTLE STIM WHISTLE

she has so many weighted blankets. she couldnt actually use them much because it was too hot in cali but then in hawkins she used them all the time

SPINNY CHAIR SPINNY CHAIR

undiagnosed

loves fluffy jumpers. she never really used or felt them earlier because of the hotness of california but when she was cold and lucas lent her his fluffy jumper...

well let's just say he didn't get it back

rubbing her hand over lucas's knuckles :)

i know i've already said singing stim but just imagine her singing 'material girl' or 'old time rock and roll'

echolalia! only sometimes tho

like erica will go "hey max me and lukie are gonna make a cake wanna help?" "cake?" "cake" "cake!" "cake!" "cake"

also the sinclair family is so accepting. they're confused but they just accept max and thats okay

once the party started looking up what adhd was, max brought it up once and immediately they all went 'that's only for little boys'

(which is bullshit obvs)

remember that sleepover scene where max is dancing? yeah that but its a stim

the party + the teens have a running joke of max being moth because she stares at lights so much. visual stim

she scratches as a(n unhealthy) stim but it gets worse after billy's death

hates it when people shout, usually goes nonverbal if it's directed at her

jumps when she's happy!!

you know how she just wears basic and unlayered clothes? yeah she chooses them on purpose because tight stuff feels Bad

she hates labels with her entire being

she seems like the kind of gal to bite her nails

also adopted dustin's "grrr" as a stim

"hey max- grrr" "...what was that?" "...grrr" "could you teach me how to do that" ".. o k a y ?"

will and max (i hc will as autistic) both have lil stimming sessions! they just notice the other stimming and join in, just leaving them laughing at the end!

lucas is super understanding of her stims

he learnt to recognize when she's understimulated and gives her fidget toys!! and if he doesnt have any then he'll just straight up grab her hand and start rubbing his fingers against the knuckles

i'd like to say:

*SLAPS ROOF OF MAX MAYFIELD* THIS BITCH CAN HOLD SO MUCH RSD

she wasnt doing so good in the first place

thinking stuff like

"maybe if i wasnt born then my parents wouldn't have divorced"

and stuff like that

(billy intentionally makes it worse because of course he does)

but then it gets so. much. worse.

you know mike said "because you're annoying" in s2?

YOU CAN BET THAT TRIGGERED HER RSD SO HARD

and also when el just walked past her in s2? yeah well

that didn't go off well with her rsd either

lucas has to reassure her that she's not a mistake, she's not annoying, he doesn't secretly hate her, etc etc

he doesnt think he'll ever forgive mike for triggering her rsd so badly

this has so many hurt/comfort possibilities in fic holy fuck-

lucas immediately shuts down her deprecating comments

like IMMEDIATELY

he wont stand for that shit

he is glaring so badly at anyone who triggers max's rsd

unless it's someone they love (like erica) who doesn't actually know what they did wrong and want to make up for it

once erica activated her rsd by accident

just with a lil lighthearted comment

"ugh i hope you arent as annoying as lukey's little friends on the walkie talkie"

once erica finds out abt what she did she feels SO bad. babey

she does everything she can to make up for it

apologizes properly when they're both brushing the barbie's hair

she finds out max stims by brushing barbie's hair when max has to look after once

so when she can see max is understimulated she'll just toss a barbie and a hairbrush her way

also likes max's echolalia (can you hear that? its the sound of max's euphoria boosting)

erica learns to lower her voice around max

max can't watch anything without subtitles btw

she just cannot

she'll watch it and cause she's smart she'll figure out what's going on

but often has to turn to lucas and go "whats going on???"

she loves the feeling of snow thru her gloves

maybe its the cold but still. very Nice

uhh i have more but i cant be bothered also this is too long already

#max mayfield #adhd headcanons #stimming #stranger things headcanons #max mayfield headcanons #lucas sinclair #erica sinclair #sinclair family my beloveds #max is bi and has adhd change my mind :) #max mayfield my beloved #itstiger720 #lumax the beloveds

[whiteswarm]

Artica's story will probably end with her mom becoming the new Fairy Queen of Winter, Artica being happy at the coronation ceremony and then suddenly freezing in place and be like

"Oh. Shite. I'm a princess"

#on the ground (ooc) #confused moth noises (crack)

[neonacity]

HYACINTHE | CHAPTER 4: JAEMIN X READER

SUMMARY: 

Na Jaemin is far from being your typical 20 year old. Instead of slaving through college, he wastes away his hours cracking safes. Weekends that should be spent partying with friends consist of illegal races on good days and small scale bombings on bad ones. 

Na Jaemin is far from being average, unless you consider being a member of Seoul’s top organized crime family normal. There is no such thing as a sense of normality and peace in his trainwreck of a life, so when he met a barista who was brave enough to call out his dangerous taste in coffee, he was like a moth to the flame. Everything about her is normal, which means she is forbidden to him, in all sense of the word. So why, then, does he always find himself at the front steps of her shop, breaking all his personal rules even if he wishes he could stay away?

A/N + Disclaimer: this is a side story to Black Daisies, my main mafia fic feat. 0T23. While the plot is based on the main story, this can also be read as a standalone fic. As usual, this is purely a work of fiction and in no way am I implying any member of NCT to behave the way I write them here. 

TW: crimes, heists, potential death, mentions of drugs and other illegal activities.

PAIRING: Jaemin x Reader 

CHAPTER 1 / CHAPTER 2 / CHAPTER 3 / 

FIC TRAILER

MASTERLIST

"Hi. Can I have one iced americano, no sugar, with an espresso shot, please?" 

 My hands froze and hovered momentarily on the drink I was preparing as I heard a male voice say that from the counter. I didn't turn around to check who it was, but my boss—who is currently helping me man the cafe today—was quick enough to dash the pit-pattering of my chest. He hooked the order slip on the board in front of me and my eyes immediately raised to read the name there. 

"One to-go, americano for Youngho." 

I sighed internally. Whether it be from relief or disappointment though, I don't really know. A part of me wanted to be in denial of my emotions, but I realized you can only go so far if the person you are trying to fool is just yourself. 

It's been almost three months since that night that I last saw Jaemin. I wish I didn't know the exact number of days that passed since then, but I do and I couldn't help it. Every little detail of what happened was still marked fresh in my mind, especially the feeling of hollowness that exploded in my chest when I woke up that morning to see them gone.

If not for the chip on the edge of the table left by Jeno as he tried to hold a half delirious Haechan down that night, I could have easily brushed off everything as a fleeting dream. But it isn't. It is a nightmare, at least in my part. 

He really meant it when he said he would leave me alone. 

There were no calls, no messages, no visits, nothing. It was like he didn't exist at all, the past year spent with him nothing but an imagined illusion. 

We were back to being strangers again, exactly like how he wants to. If you think about it, it's selfless of him to do this, but I hate it. I hate it with everything I have. 

Why? Because now I have to live through the feeling that I'm the only one suffering from all of that has happened. I couldn't watch the news anymore without thinking about him. For heaven's sake, I couldn't even get an iced coffee order without freezing like a statue because I remember him. I hate it. I hate every single moment without him, as much as I didn't want to admit it.

I placed the plastic cover over the finished drink with a soft sigh before turning to hand it over to the customer. At least I can still manage to put out my well-practiced, service smile. 

"Iced Americano for Youngho," I called out into the receiving area as I slipped a straw on the cup sleeve. A tall man looked up and walked over to me to receive it. 

"Thank you for coming to Brick and Beans. I hope you visit us again soon," I said in autopilot, my words so well-rehearsed that I didn't even have to think through while delivering them. The customer smiled at me before giving me a wink.

"I sure will. Thanks for this, sweet cheeks." He turned and left the shop, leaving me slightly confused. 

My attention was then called by my boss who had just finished wiping down the counter. The man—who really has been more of a father figure than an employer for me—gave me a warm smile and motioned me over. 

"Can we talk? I have something to tell you." 

I briefly glanced at the clock. It isn't my break time yet, but the store is empty so I guess it will be fine. I shrugged. 

"Sure."

"Grab a cake for you and me while you're at it," he nodded towards the pastry fridge before walking towards the nearest empty table. I wordlessly took two slices of basque cheesecake, his favorite, before following him. The man has a mean sweet tooth and we both know it.

He was silent for a little bit as he took the fork to take a bite of his treat. I waited patiently for him to speak, hands politely folded over my lap.

"I'm going to sell the cafe." 

I blinked and stared. I wasn't expecting that at all. 

"You're… what?" 

He sighed and leaned back against his seat. He looked a little sad over what he just said but he managed to offer me a small smile.

"I'm getting older. You know how much I love this place because I started it with my late wife, but I really can't continue to manage it anymore. My children, unfortunately, do not have any plans of continuing the business. And they've been asking me to retire, too." 

I nodded slowly, taking the news bit by bit. 

"Do you already have a buyer, ahjussi?" 

"I do. It is kind of strange, actually. Someone offered to buy off the franchise at such a perfect time. And for a very good price, too." 

That made me smile. I've had this job ever since I started college so it makes me a little sad that it's going to have a new owner, but I really am happy for him. I just hope whoever buys it off takes care of it really well. The old man loves this place to bits. 

I felt him take a hold of my hands from across the table. I looked up and was met with a fatherly smile. 

"Don't worry. You won't lose your job. The new owners said that they aren't planning to change anything here and I told them that they had to take you with them." 

That made me almost want to burst into tears. I squeezed his hand back in return. 

"Ahjussi... You didn't have to do that. I can always look for another job." Who am I kidding? I know it will be hard for me to land another sideline especially with all the financial hiccups I am already dealing with so this is really sending me over to the edge of tears. 

"Nonsense. You are part of this business. You've done so much for this place so you deserve this. Don't worry, they said yes to my condition." 

I gave his hands another squeeze and he answered back with a fatherly pat. 

"Thank you…" 

"You're welcome. Just promise me, when you become a doctor, you'll give me free checkups, okay?" 

"No, I won't. Because you will always be healthy and won't need my help at all," I said with a wrinkle of my nose. 

That sent the two of us laughing. 

"When will the new owners take over?"

"By the end of the month," my eyes rounded with surprise and he nodded in understanding. "I know, I know. It really happened too fast. I can't turn down the offer though. To be honest it was way beyond what the business is worth." 

I sighed. "Well… as long as you are sure about them." 

"I am. For now, I'll be here for a bit with you. I just need to enjoy my last days here. So just don't mind your old man, okay?" 

I grinned. 

"Only if you promise to give me a free cake every day you are here." 

He reached out to ruffle my hair. 

"Deal."

----

It was a slow day at the cafe so my boss decided to turn down the jazz music that usually floats from the speakers in lieu of the television volume. It was an odd hour in the afternoon and I found myself smiling as I watched him flip the channels over to look for a good show to watch while I dried some mugs. Just then, the overhead bell on the door dinged, welcoming with it a pair of uni-looking kids. 

My boss looked over, but I was quick to jump to action instead. "I'll take care of it," I mouthed to him, to which he gave me a smile before turning his attention back to what he was doing.

"Hi. Welcome to Brick and Beans. What can I offer you today?"

"We'll have one dirty chai latte and one irish coffee over ice. Make it to go. " 

The couple offered their names and I nodded as I punched their orders on my POS. "Would you like some pastries to go with that?"

"No, that's all."

"Got it, you can wait over there to the side. I'll have your drinks with you shortly," I said with a smile. The girl pulled the boy over into the receiving area to continue their conversation. 

"So what I'm saying is, we gotta go. Tonight is going to be epic. The bets will be high for sure. We can get some mean cash if we put it in the right car." 

The other gave a soft snort and started drumming his fingers against the wood of the counter. I let their conversation act as white noise while I worked behind the bar.

"I don't know. You're not even sure who is going to be there." 

"Jeno is in the line-up. That at least is confirmed."

I dropped the metal scooper I was using on the floor with a resounding clang. 

The three others in the room looked over to me as I hurriedly picked it up with shaking hands. I gave all parties a sheepish look before turning on my back to continue what I was doing. 

This time, I was full-on listening. 

"If Jeno's going to be there, then it is a goner. There's no chance for others. It'll be full-on suicide," the boy said thoughtfully. The girl, however, shrugged in reply. 

"They said the others might come, too. You know, to make the run a little bit more balanced," she offered. 

"You mean the seven?"

"The Four, at least."

"Oh shit."

"Uh-huh. So I'm telling you, we gotta be there man. If we can't bet then fine, but we have to see it. It’s been ages since they actually went on lane." 

I didn't really know how I managed to finish what I was doing, not with how hard my heart was beating in my chest. I'm not sure how many Jeno's there are in this part of town, but I am sure as hell that there is only one who is a member of a seven-piece 'group.' 

"Here's your order," I said thinly as I pushed the finished drinks over to them by the counter. The boy offered his card and I took it quickly, all the while thinking of what I should do next. The few seconds of me typing away at the terminal was the longest quarter minute of my life.

"Here's your receipt. Thank you for coming and see us again," I said, my voice a little weaker than usual. The couple gave a quick bow before turning to leave, drinks in hand. 

There are two ways this could go. I could let them out of that door and have my only possible chance of getting in contact with any of the boys leave with them. Or I could call after them and…

I whipped around to call out to my boss, my figure already halfway out from the bar. 

"Ahjussi, I'll be back in five minutes, sorry. I promise I'll be quick!"

He had barely looked up when I started running out the door.

-----

"Excuse me!" 

The duo looked back at me, then at each other in confusion as I tried my best to hurry up to them without landing on my face. God, why do they walk so fast? They were just a few seconds ahead when they left the shop! Thankfully, they stopped at my call, giving me a chance to skid before them as I tried to catch my breath.

"Um… Is there a problem? We paid, right?" The boy asked me with an odd look. I waved my hand before finally trying to answer. 

"Yes. I uh—"

Well, I obviously didn't plan this out clearly. How do I say this now without sounding like a lunatic? 

"I heard your conversation earlier. You were talking about Jeno."

The pair exchanged glances again, this time tinged with suspicion. It was the girl who answered this time. 

"Yes, we were. What about it?" 

"I… I just want—to maybe know where he is? You were talking about tonight's—"

"The drag race?"

I stopped for half a heartbeat before nodding. 

"Yeah. The race. I wanted to come, too, but I don't really know the address." 

The boy cocked his brow at me in blatant suspicion. It took all of me to pull out all the basics I learned from drama class back in high school to remain calm before his withering glare. 

"You know Jeno but don't know the address? That doesn't make any sense," he said as he crossed his arms over his chest. "If you've been in one before you should have been included in the text blast."

Oh shit. 

I could feel my palms growing cold from nervousness. Still, I tried pushing on. 

"W-well, I was invited before by one of them. But then things fell apart and I started not getting any of the...texts anymore," I said, not having the slightest idea of what I am saying myself. What's ironic though was that what I just blurted out was sort of a half-truth, too.

Apparently—and miraculously—it also made sense by the look of understanding that dawned on their faces. 

"I see…" the girl trailed off. She cleared her throat and looked at her friend before glancing at me again. 

"Look, I can give you the address, but promise me that you never got it from me when someone asks, okay?" She asked. The boy looked at her incredulously.

"Are you crazy? She was already shadow banned!"

She shushed him and waved her hand off to shut him up. "Look, this is a girl thing. Don't mess with it. Just go ahead to the car, I'll take care of it." 

He scoffed but stalked off towards the direction of the parking lot. 

She turned towards me again and pulled her phone from the pocket of her leather jacket. I watched as she unlocked the screen before showing it to me. 

"Do you have your phone with ya? Here, take a photo of this address." 

I swear I could almost kiss her. I scrambled to get my phone from my back pocket and didn't waste another second to take a snap of her screen.

"Thank you so much." 

She nodded in understanding before locking her phone again and shoving it into her pocket. "Hey, a girl's gotta stand up for another. Who was it? Was it Haechan?" 

"Um…" 

She didn't wait for me to finish. 

"Really, whoever it is among them, I can't really blame you. They're all cute, but they do need to be taken down a notch when it comes to girls. Those boys," she tsked. "Dangerous." 

Oh…

Oh. She thought I was an ex-fling who wanted to teach one of them a lesson by crashing the race. I let that sink in before a frown settled on my features. 

Well, aren't you one? The devil on my shoulder cackled at me sardonically. 

"Glad to have helped though. But remember, you didn't get it from me, okay?"

With a wink, she strutted off, leaving me staring at her retreating form. 

----

I told myself I simply wanted to see him again. 

I reminded myself that for the hundredth time tonight as I parked my car on a free space by a gravel road, my eyes roaming the darkness beyond. The place looked deserted, and I had to do one last check if I really put in the right coordinates on my map before finally turning off my engine. The road beyond was wide but uncemented and to its left is a half unfinished building with metal banisters reaching out to the sky like skeletal arms. I swallowed. Every little thing about the space beyond screams danger.

Which probably means I am in the right place. 

I reached out to zip up my jacket and pulled the hoodie over my head before getting out of my car. My sneakers crunched on the gravel as I made my way towards a low wall circling the building beyond. 

Just try and take a look. You don't have to talk to him. You can keep your distance. 

I repeated that in my head again and again as I approached what I assume to be the entrance. A part of me still wants to berate myself for doing this but I am too far gone to try and play the denial game again. I want, no, I need to see Jaemin's world.

The moment I passed through a crack on the wall, it felt like I stepped into a different world. It opened up into an even wider area, the shadows of a multi-lane road behind the abandoned building beyond. Milling around is a throng of people, some smoking, others sipping on red cups on their hands. Some cars were parked against the wall I just passed, their headlights on with music booming out of their rolled down windows. 

I tried to swallow the lump on my throat as I looked around. Already, I felt out of place in the crowd, but I steeled myself to push on, my hands digging deeper into the pockets of my jacket.

"Hey." 

I looked up to see a boy around my age wave at me. He was also holding a red cup and what looked like a bundle of paper. My eyes widened as that came into focus when he got closer. 

Money. 

Wads and wads of cash. 

"You put your bets already?" He asked as he stuffed the bills into a small belt bag hidden beneath his oversized shirt. He pulled his phone out then, unlocked the screen, and looked at me, waiting for an answer. 

"Uh…" 

He gave me an odd look.

"Who are you betting on?" He asked again. 

I gave the first name I could only think of. 

"Ja-Jaemin," I stuttered.

That earned me a low whistle from him as he typed away at his phone, probably to record my choice of 'player.' "I don't know, man. Dude seems pretty out of it lately, but whatever floats your boat." He stuck out his hand to me then, and it took me a few seconds to realize what he was asking for. 

"Oh," I scrambled to grab my purse. I was in the middle of pulling my card from my wallet when I saw his face. Slowly, I put it back to reach out for bills instead. 

"Cash only." 

I sheepishly handed him the last few hundreds I have. He took them, expertly flipping through each bill to count them off. 

"First time, eh?" 

I nodded. 

I watched as he slipped the money into his already overflowing belt bag, thinking that he would leave after that. Instead he nudged his head towards the direction of the building and motioned me along. 

"Come on then. At least try and get a good look at your first race." 

I blinked in confusion but ran after him as he started walking away. 

We stopped at the front row of the half ring of people that had already gathered in front of the abandoned rafters. Just then, a huge spotlight shone over the road behind it, driving everyone to erupt in cheers. Parked in a single line at the foot of the road are five cars, headlights opening one by one.

"Jaemin's the yellow one," the boy nodded towards the one occupying the third lane. I stared. I know next to nothing about cars, but I know enough to be sure that none of the ones in front of me now are something you can buy from your run-of-the-mill auto dealer. Lowered, with shining reams, and a low motor hum that reverberated to where I was standing, I could only briefly compute in my head how much each of those customized rides must have cost. 

I heard the boy beside me snort amusedly. "Your first race and you get to see this. I'm telling you, this happens once in a blue moon," he said with a smirk. I didn't say anything, my gaze never leaving the yellow car. 

Slowly though, I noticed the crowd's noise die down dramatically the same time that a petite form walked out from the building. The woman stopped in the middle of the road and raised her hand into the night sky, a small pistol in her grasp.

Everyone has gone so quiet now that you could almost hear a needle dropping. Just then, the resounding bang of a gunshot pierced the air. Few other large spotlights turned on simultaneously, revealing the snaking road ahead that was disguised under the darkness earlier. I gasped. The roaring sound of engines blared beyond and with a new uproar from the crowd, the cars were speeding ahead, leaving trails of light in their wake. 

My heart was beating so hard against my chest as I tried my best to follow the speeding cars ahead. I was only able to comprehend the real expanse of the road the moment each ride took over its lanes—the place looked more like an abandoned air dock field more than anything else. I was barely aware of my nails digging on the palms of my hands as my eyes switched from Jaemin’s car and the others, particularly on the deep red one that he was currently toe in toe with. The space between the two were a hair’s breadth away and I could almost swear their sides would collide any second. 

That went on until a curve on the road appeared. It was the last turn before the finish line and the crowd turned wilder as the nose of each car tried its best to take the lead. I didn’t even realize that I was holding my breath until the last second when the yellow one took over the inner space of the road before swerving successfully ahead.

Everyone around me erupted in cheers. I gave my own gasp, hands covering my lips before joining the rest.

Jaemin’s yellow lambo parked on the finish line, the rest of the race participants trailing behind. I watched as his door opened, revealing his beautiful wide grin and tousled hair. He was glowing, cheeks flushed from the adrenaline. I was so caught up in the image that I barely noticed Jeno appearing from the red car, followed by Renjun, Mark, and Haechan from the other rides. 

I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but I watched with a smile as they huddled over Jaemin, playfully pushing and cajoling him for his win. They looked happy, carefree.

But it seems like they aren’t the only ones who were out there in the road. My gaze moved back to Jaemin's car when I saw his passenger seat open. As if in slow motion, a girl got out of it, wearing the same wide smile the others have. The group hooted at her as she joined their huddle. 

That’s when I felt as if time has stopped.  

The smile on my face slowly faded as I watched Jaemin wrap his arms around her before pulling her into a tight hug. 

---

A/N: Hey guys! This is going to be the second to the last chapter of Jaemin’s side story! I originally wanted to finish it in one go, but I thought it would be nice to release the epilogue on Nana’s birthday! So yes, that’ll be out on the 13th, lol. Thank you so much to those who have continued reading this side fic! <3

Chapter 5 (END)

Taglist: @negincho​, @springdaybreaks​, 

#nct dream #nct dream mafia #nct dream mafia au #nct jaemin #jaemin x reader #lee jeno #huang renjun #mark lee #lee haechan #zhong chenle #park jisung #nct angst #nct fluff #nct imagines #nct au #nct mark #nct renjun #nct jeno #nct haechan #nct chenle #nct jisung #nct-writers #nct mafia #nct mafia au

[intotherumiverse]

American Girl

ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ'ꜱ ɴᴏᴛᴇ: Shit this has been in my head for a hot min. I’d like to thank @xetou​ @minruko​ and @koishiguro​ for listening to me spew my bull shit for days on end.The ice cream shop mentioned in the fic is a real ice cream place (which slaps btw) but Brooke isn’t a real person (I just used the name)   Also this is the song I used for the inspiration for the fic. And with that, hope you enjoy <3 ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: Reo can speak English in this fic, He’s knowledgeable in some American culture but not all. ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: Fluff and crack  ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ: Female Reader  ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 1k+

It was on a business trip when Reo saw you. He wasn’t one for the slow, dull, work of his father’s job, but after he turned 20, he was given no other choice. It was in New York he met you. You were minding your own business, getting coffee for some of the other staff that was with him on this godforsaken trip. Your smile and the way you carried yourself drew himself to you. “Who’s that?” Reo couldn’t take his eyes off of you as he whispered to Nagi, one of his associates.

“(Y/n) apparently, she’s one of the people that has applied for the new secretary position. Walking over to where you were standing, he tells Nagi

“Send the others home, I want her.”

“You sure Reo?” Not focusing, he nods. Walking over to where you were standing, Reo suddenly becomes self-conscious of himself. Uncurling his spine, he fixes himself before speaking. But you beat him to the punch.

“How can I help you Mr. Mikage?” Your voice was so alluring to him, the smoky timbers of it leading him like a moth to a flame.  Clearing his throat, he says 

“I’d like to inform you that you have been hired to the company as my… personal assistant.”

Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise. You were expecting a job but nothing like this. I mean, New York was all you knew, withdrawing yourself now would have some troubles. 

“Maybe we should get to know each other, you know, business-wise?”

It was Reo’s turn to be shocked, lavender eyes shining in curiosity. “And what do you suggest we do?” The tension was thick in the eyes, electricity forming between the two of you. “Give me your number,” you say in the spur of the moment. You knew it was a bad idea to start falling for your newly formed boss but something about him was so alluring. 

“I’ll text what time you can pick me up.”

“Bold, very very bold Miss (Y/n).”

“What can I say, I was raised here. Bold is in my DNA”

“I quite like it,” pulling a sleek business card out of his pocket, he gives a small smirk

“I look forward to your text, Miss (Y/n)”

And that’s how you ended up staring at your phone for the umpteenth hour. You had always heard of the mysterious Reo Mikage, a boy who never wanted to be a king, but the real deal was far more enticing. He had self-esteem inside that made him glow, you couldn’t place it. Rolling onto your stomach, you pull up his phone number. 

“2 pm Mr.Mikage, I’ll show you, New York, as you’ve never seen before.”

In a matter of minutes, he responds 

“Looking forward to it”

Tomorrow will be a good day.

You looked good. You could tell that from the way Reo’s eyes tracked you walking down the street. The clear desire showing itself through the way he looked at you hungrily. 

“Good morning Mr.Mikage” you smile sweetly at him.

“Good morning to you too Miss (Y/n). I trust you slept well.” 

“Well enough,” you reply. Clasping your hands together, you continue 

“Shall we be off?” 

“I’ll bring the car around.” Stifling a laugh, you giggle at Reo’s obvious oblivion. 

“You’re in New York Mr.Mikage, you don’t bring a car, you walk.” 

“Is that so?” 

“Very much so.” 

“Then it is as you wish.”  Pulling out a phone from one of his pockets, he talks lowly into the phone. After a couple of minutes, he puts it away and smiles. 

“Lead the way Miss (Y/n).”

Reo was never truly speechless in his life. Not until today. He wasn’t expecting to be led into the heart of New York by one of the most beautiful people he’s ever seen. Standing in front of the small shop, he looks over to your glowing face. 

“Are we here?” He asks carefully 

“We are! Welcome to the best ice cream shop in New York, in my opinion. Welcome to Surreal Creamery.”

The small shop didn’t seem like much on the outside. Small, it was easily unnoticeable on the exterior. 

“Are you sure about it, Miss (Y/n)? It doesn’t seem like much.”

Giving the concerned man a sly look, you say nothing as you drag him into the small shop. 

“Hi! Welcome to Surreal Creamery, My name is Brooke and I’ll be your server today! What can I get you?” 

“Can I have a Chocolate Blackout please?” Brooke take note of the order on her iPad 

“And you sir?” 

“I’ll have the Thai Milk Bubble Tea & Vietnamese Iced Coffee Ice Cream please?” 

“Okay that will be 24.15” 

You reach over and pull out your card, ready to pay, with Reo already placing his onto the table.

“Sir you don’t have to pay! I invited you out today, I should pay.” 

There was something in his stare that made you not fight on it longer. Letting him pay, the two of you left, ice creams in hand. 

You take small scoops of ice cream, and Reo does the same. The cars in the background are the only noise.

“This is really good Miss (Y/n).” Reo savors the sweetness of the icy dessert. 

“Told ‘ya so.” 

Walking side by side on the slowly emptying streets of New York. The slow pace of the later afternoon was peaceful to Reo. 

“I had fun Miss (Y/n).” Reo smiles at you, loving how your skin glows in the afternoon sun. It frames your face as if the deities up above were blessing you. 

“I had fun too Mr.Mikage. Maybe we could do this again.” You haven’t felt such an attraction to one man more than you ever had than today. It was like a tugging in your heart and he had the strings. Pulling you closer and closer until the two of you were facing each other. You felt his breath tickle your face, the cloying scent of ice cream caressing your sensitive skin. He traced your jawline, hands strong and undeniably rough, goosebumps rising from where he touched. 

“I know you feel it (Y/n),” Reo mumbles. You notice slightly as Reo drops the formalities that he usually added to your name. “There’s tension between you and me. I know you can feel it too. C’mon princess, can I have a kiss?”

Your stomach dropped. He felt it too, the undeniable something that was in the air. You had no words, feeling dazed and confused. The was only one answer. The one that you both knew was the answer to your questions. 

“Yes.”

Tagging

@mypimpademia @solar3lunar @rosetheshapeshifter@bubblime​ @angiebug101​ @melanin-baddie @noir-ethereal​ @quincywrites​ @myhoodacademia @1-800-s1mping@wherearewegoinglesbians​ @kunikida-kun​ @dragonsdreamoffire @lilsparkyswife @minruko​ @katsumiiii​ @silkylious​  @procrastination-lady @koishiguro​ @hitosushi​  @kazekugisaki​ @vodrea​ @vilwhatsthedeal​ @katsuflossy​ @smexy-goose​ @mads-fairy​ @sanemiya​ @kloudyisdepressed @namjoonswifeyy​ @moonlit-xio

#anime #anime x reader #anime x black!reader #anime x poc!reader #blue lock #blue lock x reader #blue lock x black reader #blue lock x poc!reader #manga #manga x reader #manga x black reader #manga x poc reader #bllk x reader #bllk x black reader #blllk x poc reader #reo mikage #reo bllk #blue lock reo #reo mikage x reader #reo mikage x black reader #reo mikage x poc reader #rumi.writes

[tteokdoroki]

💜-But imagine that for the past week both katsuki and Eijiro have been so teasing towards you, that you decide to get a little revenge. When they are both asleep you managed to tie their arms up, leaving them exposed to you. You decide for all their teasing to tease them back. You slide under the covers and begin to give kirishima’s cock little kitten licks while gently stroking katsuki’s cock, you hear their groans and you feel them squirm under their touch.

“What the fuck,” you hear katsuki say, his legs squirming while you stroke his cock. Then Kiri wakes up just as confused. You know they aren’t gonna be happy at your actions, but that can be considered payback for this week.

You hear Eijiro moan as you run your tongue up the length of his cock, circling it around the tip,”fuck, pebble, what do you think you’re doing?” Eijiro groans.

You hum around his cock, picking up the pace while you stroke katsuki’s cock. Switching from a slow teasing stroke to something fast. You take your mouth off of Eijiro’s cock and switch to katsuki’s. Your hand grips Eijiro and begins to do slow teasing strokes enjoying hearing Eijiro’s groans from being so close to cumming but kept on the edge, and hearing katsuki moan.

“ don’t be a tease pebble, you don’t want to be punished.” Eijiro warned.

“Ohhh, I’m so scared,” you mocked. Unfortunately for you, that was the last straw. You heard a loud crack and heavy rope drop to the floor, the blankets and covers were thrown off of you. Two strong hands grab your arm and waist, hauling you up towards katsuki, one hand grabs both arms and presses them against your back, the other hand grabs your face, forcing you to look up at his angry red eyes.

“Awww, you thought you could dom us didn’t you? How stupid. But I guess you’re just our dumb little slut, huh? “Katsuki says, you can feel kirishima binding your hands together behind your back.

“Now pebble, I thought you would have known better. I think our dumb little slut needs to be reminded who is in control here. “ Eijiro says slapping your ass, “I guess this is going to be a nice way to break in that paddle,”he laughs as katsuki grabs your squirming body, turning you to lay on his lap, arms bound together in the middle of your back.

“Remember your safe word baby, what are they?” Katsuki says pressing the cold wooden paddle against your bare ass gently, letting you get a feel first.

“Red is stop, yellow is slow down, green means okay,” you reply.

“And if you can’t talk?” He asks

“ three taps,”

“Good girl.” Eijiro says, grabbing your face. He loves to make you hold eye contact during your punishments, seeing your crying face, how your face gets red.

Without warning katsuki swings the wooden paddle down on your ass, making a loud smacking noise. You have to hold back your moans.

“Count. You know what you’re supposed to do. “ katsuki warns, bringing the paddle down again.

“One, thank you master,”

By the tenth strike, your ass is breath red, tears are streaming down your face and your struggles have died down.

You feel katsuki’s hand wander between your legs, a finger slides in your soaking wet folds, you release a moan by accident.

“Did you learn your lesson brat? Or do you need more than just the paddle? Your ass is already red hot, and you’re practically dripping on my lap. Making a fucking mess,” katsuki says.

“I’m sorry master, I’m sorry daddy.” You apologize through tears. Katsuki grabs your bound arms and hauls you up into a sitting position,”don’t ever try that shit again, got it?” Katsuki says, you nod your head yes.

“Good, now clean up your mess,”he commands, pushing your face down towards his lap, making you lick up your juices.

You feel something cold on your ass, making your squirm. One quick spank makes you stop immediately,”stay still pebble, this is gonna help. “ he says rubbing that cold gel on your burning ass. He keeps on trailing his fingers around your second hole. He pushes a lubed up finger in your ass, making you moan.

“ oh, does our little slut like it when her ass is played with? “ Eijiro asks, sliding a finger to feel your wet cunt,”oh you’re practically dripping,” he says with a laugh. He opens a drawer, taking out the plug katsuki and he loves.

“Relax pebble, enjoy this,” you feel the luved up plug make its way into your ass, stretching you out so nicely.

“Fuck, you look so hot with that plug pebble. Turn around, let your master see,” you obey, turning around to face Eijiro. Your eyes train on his large cock, he grabs your head and guides your mouth to his cock, you feel two hands on your waist, guiding your wet pussy above katsuki’s cock. Hands guiding you to bounce on his cock while kirishima’s hands guide you to take him deep.

“Good girl, you’re sucking me do good, trying to compensate for being a brat earlier? Why don’t you make us cum, “ Kiri taunts as katsuki begins to thrust harder and faster, fingers rubbing you clit. You moan around Eijiro’s cock.

“She is so fucking wet, taking us like a good slut,” katsuki says as his thrusts grow harder and faster.

“Fuck baby, you gonna cum? Cum all over my cock with Eijiro’s cock in your mouth. Cum like the good slut you are,” katsuki commands rubbing your clit harder. Your legs are shaking and your muffled moans fill the room.

“Swallow me pebble, I don’t want you to waste a fucking drop, got it,” you moan again, cumming around katsuki’s cock as kirishima fills your moth with cum.

“Fuck her pretty cunt is milking me dry,” katsuki groans, cumming deep in your pussy.

“Fuck pebble, that was so fucking hot. You were so good for us, good girl,” kirishima says pulling out of your mouth, katsuki carefully pulls out of your pussy, an arm under your stomach, forcing your ass to stay high in the air, exposing your pussy filled with cum and your butt plug.

“ so fucking good baby,”

Probably part 1

CRACKS KNUCKES ESKETIT

this again will probably be long so let’s tag it and add some warnings <33

katsuki bakugou x fem!reader, eijiro kirishima x fem!reader

warning(s): unprotected sex, light somnophilia, blowjobs, master/daddy kink, heavy degredation, pain play, using a paddle, restraints, cum play, ass play, humiliation, dacryphilia wew ok !!

author’s notes: i wrote this with red LED lights on hehe also sorry it took a while aa

can you imagine the surprise on katsuki’s face when he wakes up to the feeling of your tiny hand wrapped around his shaft, palming him for all his worth? boy is probably going to trip because A) its super fucking hot the way your thumb rubs over his leaking tip every once and a while, brushing between his slit in a way that has his eyes rolling and B) he hates when you get the one up on him, for bakugou, its all about having power and control over you, you’re supposed to be bakugou’s little bitch and even though his bitch in heat sucks his cock like a goddess, swallowing him deep just like he taught you, it makes him mad to his very core that you’d even try to dom him when he knows you’re just a pathetic subby bunny.

kirishima, i’d like to think, is a little less of a hard dom compared to katsuki for the most part. poor boy is almost embarrased at how he whimpers when he jumps awake and finds your lips wrapped sweetly around his red hot cock, he loves it when you look up at him from under the sheets, a drooly mess all for him. eiji wants you to slobber all over him, watch as a mix of drool and. precum. slides down your chin and drips between his balls and your hands, god your hands make him feel like he’s reached the gates of heaven-- but he’s upset with you, his little baby should know better than to try a stunt like this on her master while he’s asleep, so of course a punishment is in order.

the paddle is of course a purchase of katsuki’s, but it doesn’t mean eijirou doesnt like using it on you any less than the blonde. the way it makes your cute ass jiggle and the way it makes tears sting tracks down your cheeks is enough to rouse a boner out of tthe red head. and of course,  katsuki likes it when you’re all marked up and writhing in pain, its like some kind of high for him and gets him off just to see you as a blubbering mess.

they like to humiliate you when you pull stunts like this, calling you out for being such a cry baby in the way you jump and twitch at the simple press of thick digits against your clit. not to mention how you shamefully wail as eijirou eases the cute little butt. plug between your cheeks, you hate to admit how much you love it. a spit roasted slut is what you are, bounded as katsuki easily slides into your pussy, soaked from the punishment you so obediently endured.  he groans at how tight you are, how well you take him even when sore and in pain-- while kirishima gets a full view of the way your eyes roll into the back of your head as he sinks into your hot mouth, his own moan falling freely from his lips.

they fuck you until you’re a trembling, limp, leaking mess who doesn’t know whats up or whats down. your holes so eagerly swallow them up that it drives them insane, even as they paint you white inside and out. eijirou’s cum slips from the corner of your mouth but he forces it back in with slow and steady thrusts,  lifting your head by your hair to use the sight of your tears as material to get off. your spasmining orgasm is what trigger’s bakugou’s, his sharp thrusts easing into pathetic grinds as he breeds your pussy like he’s trying to knock you up-- thick seed liniing your womb.

#bakugou #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugou #kirishima #eijiro kirishima #kirishima eijirou #bakugou x reader #bakugou x you #bakugou smut #bakugou fluff #bakugou headcanons #bakugou scenarios #katsuki bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugou x you #katsuki bakugou smut #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou katsuki x you #bakugou katsuki smut #kirishima x reader #kirishima x you #kirishima imagine #kirishima smut #kirishima scenarios #kirishima fluff #kirishima fanfic #kirishima headcanons #eijirou kirishima x reader #eijiro kirishima x reader #eijiro kirishima smut #kirishima eijiro smut

[itssuppertim3]

Lean (Miraak x Reader):

Contemplating on writing for Pyramid Head every once in a while since I can't get the thick bastard off my mind but we'll see what the future brings

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

"Do you like winter, Miraak?" I asked the man strolling quietly beside me. "Not necessarily. However, I remember a time when I did. My temple always felt a bit warmer-- more enjoyable during that time." I snorted at him in amusement, to which he wasn't fond of. "I just imagined you stringing up holiday decor." He merely scoffed in denial, though we both knew it was true.

While searching for another conversation topic, my foot slid against the mud beneath me. "Careful," Miraak warned as his hands clasped firmly around my shoulders. My breath was trapped in my throat from the sudden startle, but somehow he only made it worse. Once my voice came back to me, I said, "uh...-- yeah. Thank you." Damn, his hands were so warm. I could feel the heat emitting from them even through my armor. Alas, the soothing feeling dissappeared as soon as he retracted his arms.

"Honestly, I'm surprised you hadn't already cracked your skull before I came along. It seems that you are always tripping and stumbling wherever you go." I scratched my cheek and chuckled sheepishly. "Ah, you know me so well."

"That is only because I stand witness to it," he uttered. We continued onward to Morthal in silence. A week ago, Jarl Idgrod sent me a letter of assistance; "potential murdurer on the loose," it had read. She noted that she wasn't one to fall victim to senseless gossip, but over the last several days she had been growing paranoid of the situation. Thus, she requested us to investigate. "I wonder why the jarl wants two dragonborn to take care of a killer instead of the guards? Gods, I feel like most of the soldiers are just using this pitiful war as an excuse to be lazy," I grumbled with my arms crossing.

"I agree. Though as far as I'm concerned, she wants you to handle it, not I." I perked up at his remark. "What do you mean? Everyone should know by now that you're just as powerful as I am. We've been traveling together for three months." Miraak diverted his gaze from me and pointed it straight ahead. "Perhaps, but you and I are still very different from one another. The people of Skyrim view you as a hero to be remembered for ages, whereas I will forever be remembered as a traitor-- if I was even remembered at all." The atmosphere around us suddenly became very dim. For a moment, the only noise that could be heard was the mire sloshing under our boots.

"That's bullshit," I retorted finally. Miraak was taken aback by my sudden change of attitude. "Excuse my language, but it is. Look at all of the good you've done since we've been together! We took down a vampire lord for crying out loud! And yeah, we weren't thanked for it or anything--"

"Y/n."

"But that doesn't matter. What does matter is that you put in a lot of effort to make the world safer, and I think that deserves respect."

"Y/n." By now, Miraak was no longer walking at my side. "What is it?" Before he was able to respond, the muddy ground had fallen loose beneath me and I plummeted into a brown socket of water. Oh yeah, I forgot that we were trudging through a swamp. The filth shot through my mouth and nose as I was completely sumberged. To make matters worse, the water was also incredibly frigid, making it even more difficult to sort through my panic. A pair of arms dove into the murk and proceeded to yank me up by my collar.

I gurgled, spluttered, and heaved strong breaths once I was dragged out of harm's way. Miraak shook his head at me all the while. I could practically feel the smirk hiding under his mask. "Oh, yeah. Real funny. Please continue... to remind me of how much... of a klutz I am," I rasped, still trying to flow air into my lungs. "I did try to warn you, you know. You were about to walk straight into the pond," the man defended. "Ok. I'll give you that." Miraak helped me to my feet after I finally regained my composure. "Oh, great," I sighed at the muck covering me head-to-toe. "I look so unprofessional." He skimmed over the grime coated over my outfit before scooping a clump of mud and smearing some over his robes. "I suppose we'll both have to look unprofessional, then." My cheeks tainted a dark pink at his actions, but I decided to blame it on the nip in the air.

My arms hugged my body when I started to shiver. Going for a dip in late autumn definitely wasn't the best of choices. Miraak scanned over the map and pinpointed our distance from Morthal. "We won't be able to arrive there before nightfall. We still have an hour left to go," he informed. I groaned to myself in reply. "Guess we'll have to make camp, then." He nodded, gesturing me to follow him.

In a matter of minutes, he had already secured a decent campfire and was now assembling the tent. Meanwhile, I was sitting on a nearby log with my bedroll enveloped around my trembling body. I was enjoying watching him, though. "I'd say you're a natural. When did you get so skilled at camping?" I inquired once he took a seat next to me. "By learning from you," he stated simply. Gods, how could he be such a jerk yet act so charming?! I avoided saying anything more and began scrubbing the dirt from my armor with a wet rag.

It was freezing, tonight. There was no comforting glow from the moon and stars due to the thick layer of clouds overhead, which only made it feel colder. I shuddered when a breeze travelled through the area and tormented my body. I was still wearing my undershirt and trousers, and even those were still damp. The cloth made my fingers sting the more I used it, until I felt Miraak's hand take ahold of my own. "Your fingers are red," were the only words that left his mouth before he grabbed my other hand and squeezed them both gently. I was so shocked by this that I couldn't even so much as blink. "Are you cold?" I had forgotten about the prickles climbing over my skin. "Um--uhh, kind of." How did my voice become so small?

Before I could protest, I was pulled closer to Miraak. And now that I left exposed, he felt even warmer than he did earlier. I wasn't even touching him! Not to mention how nice his hands felt. He was like a portable smelter! I stayed more silent than a moth as he continued to caress my fingers and palms. There was no telling what was going on inside of that brain of his.

"You may lean against me, if you like."

Oh.

Oh!

My heart was thrashing around inside of my chest. He wanted me to just... slide even closer and lean on him?! Just like that?! By now, my mind was spiraling in both confusion and embarrassment. Still, I was very cold. There wasn't any harm in doing it, right? He was the one who offered. I ultimately accepted his proposal.

It started off with our knees touching awkardly, and then with my head attempting to rest against his shoulder, which failed due to the golden scales protruding out from his sleeve and jabbing me in the side of the head. Miraak eventually lifted his arm, inviting me to scooch under it-- to which I did. As soon as I got situated, he let his hand ease onto my shoulder. I was so flustered that I could barely breathe. It was suffocating, practically unbearable, yet I only felt myself nestling further into him. "You're really warm," I mumbled.

Oh, dear.

Why on Nirn did I say that? I sounded like a pervert!!! What if he thought I was creepy?! My heart dropped as he held me still and turned to look at me. "Y/n, how do you feel?" It was made to be a question, but it sounded more of a demand. I sat tense for a long while, lips parted yet unmoving. "About...?" I gulped when he slowly placed my hand flat against his chest. I could feel his heart throbbing at a rapid pace, as was mine. "Me."

Miraak's voice was low and sounded on edge. Perhaps he was more nervous than I thought he was? My next movements were reckless. Recklessness seemed to be my only sense of courage, right now. I carefully drew his hand towards me and slipped off his glove. He didn't stop me, however his muscles twitched under my touch. I stared at his pale skin for a long while. It was decorated with veins and had a scar stretched over his knuckles. Thanks to the protection of his gloves, his fingernails were in prestine condition. In short, his hands were utterly glorious.

I tilted my face down and pressed my lips against his scar, leaving him breathless. "Does that answer your question?" I asked Miraak with a flushed grin. Without responding, he brushed his thumb over my cheek and felt the entirety of my features. His hand was so calloused and smoothe! I cupped my own against it, keeping it there for as long as possible. Once again, I was pulled into another embrace, this one being much tighter and affectionate. Neither of us decided to speak, and somehow it felt more befitting that way.

With my head resting against Miraak's chest, I could hear his heartbeat quite clearly. It was much slower compared to earlier, more soothing than anything. He wasn't very sure where to place his hands, so he kept one firm on my waist and the other rubbing my hair. Sure, my face was hotter than a bonfire and there was still panic fresh on my mind. Then again, I also felt so calm in his arms. This may have been the first time in my life where I actually felt normal. Everything around me simply fell into place. It was selfish of me to inwardly beg for this moment to never end. As a dragonborn, I had my responsibilites, but for now I kicked those responsibilities aside. I had the right to be selfish every now and then.

"Maybe I should go diving into swamps more often," I teased, breaking through the comfortbale silence. I felt my heart flutter in the midst of him vibrating a soft chuckle. "That would certainly be an entertaining idea. Though I might not get the same reaction from you each time." I peered up at my new love interest with a quirked brow. "What kind of reaction?" In one swift motion, Miraak nudged up his mask to his nose and blessed me with a kiss. It was quick and simple, hardly lingering over my lips in time for me to process it. It was as if I had just imagined it!

Even so, the blush stained on my cheeks was already spreading to my ears. This man was a complete menace. His mask was already tipped back down, but the coy smile he was holding was evident. "You bastard," I hissed. He only shrugged his shoulders at me. "If you fall into the swamp again, I may even give you another kiss," Miraak jested. I proceeded to whack his bicep.

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

I bet Miraak got those plump ass lips :^3

#miraak #skyrim #elder scrolls #miraak x ldb #fdb #one shot #x reader #dragonborn dlc #tesblr #writeblr #dragon priest

[theskywaslookingback]

[AO3] - [read the rest of the series here]

Martin has the TV set to a low murmur, letting Bake Off reruns play in the background as he combs his fingers through Gerry’s hair. It’s warm in the flat, the summer worming its way in through the cracks of the place and turning everything hot and tight. The fan is louder than the TV, oscillating back and forth between the two bodies slumped on the sofa and the one on the chair.

Jon grumbles as the movement rustles his papers, his glasses low on his nose and gaze intent on the paper he’s reading.

“You know,” Gerry says from his comfortable position on Martin’s lap, “if you didn’t assign so much work, you wouldn’t have so much to grade.”

Martin pinches Gerry’s ear in admonishment as Jon makes a noise of protest from his comfortable perch on the arm chair. Gerry yelps and then laughs, swatting at Martin’s hand.

“I’m just saying, you do this to yourself.”

“Hush,” Martin says, tugging gently on a lock of black hair, “It’s too hot to deal with you.”

Gerry hums, picking his head up enough to wink at Jon who just sighs in reply. Gerry settles back in and Martin resumes his petting. It’s nice, despite the heat, one of the very few days they have to spend together. Jon had offered to help out with a summer class at the university that had been overbooked and Gerry had recently been promoted to manager at the bar he’d been working for, which was all phenomenal and Martin was so proud of them both, but it left them all with shockingly little time together.

Martin’s thumb strokes down Gerry’s neck, rubbing over an old tattoo of an eye, pressing down slightly at the pupil. Gerry huffs a breath into his lap and turns just enough to look at him. “Hi,” Martin says.

“Hey.” Comes the soft reply, warm and fond.

Martin would very much like to kiss him, but that would require a level of flexibility he’s never possessed, so he settles for bringing his own hand up to his palm and kissing the center of it before setting it back down lightly over Gerry’s mouth. He can feel the smile tugging at Gerry’s lips before his palm is being kissed in return and Martin brings it back up to his mouth. “Tea?” He asks after finishing the ritual.

“Christ,” Jon says, letting his papers and pen fall onto the small table at his side. The pen jumps at the small shock and rolls off onto the floor. “Please? If I don’t take a break I may actually start pulling my hair out.”

“Well we wouldn’t want that.” Martin says.

“Mmm, I don’t know.” Gerry says, tapping his finger to his chin as if in indecision, “Bald can be sexy. I seem to recall a time when you shaved your head and it didn’t look that bad.”

“Oh?” Delight suffuses through Martin like honeyed sunshine, “Now that’s something I would have loved to have seen.”

Gerry’s face lights up and he sits bolt upright. “Wait here a second,” he says before hopping off the couch and bounding toward the bedroom. There’s a loud crack, like the door has banged off a wall, and then the sound of things hitting the floor in a hurry.

Martin looks over at Jon, bewildered, but Jon just gives a helpless shrug, looking just as lost as he feels. He’s about to get up and go see just what the hell Gerry is doing when he comes tearing back into the room, clutching something in his hands.

“Look!” He crows, clearly pleased with himself, and hands out a book to Martin.

It’s not very large, about the size of a standard journal, and bound in worn, brown leather. The front of it is scuffed, the top corner bent inward like it’d been stepped on or stuffed somewhere and left like that for a long time, forgotten. “What is-“

From the chair he hears Jon say, “Is that-“

But Gerry drowns them both out with his plea of, “Open it!”

So Martin does.

Inside the front cover is a mess of pen drawings and doodles. A stylized eye, a moth, an anarchy symbol, a middle finger, half of them overlapping and the lines blurring. There’s a burst of black in the top right, a dark blot like a burst pen. In the center of the mess are big blocky letters, all caps.

PROPERTY OF GERRY KEAY

Below that, in a much smaller font that Martin can only decipher from years of recognition and practice.

and Jon Sims.

Martin looks up at Gerry who just grins and flops back down on the couch next to him, pressing hard up against his side like he’s eager to watch. Martin flips to the next page.

There’s a polaroid taped to the center, two young boys staring up at him with twin grins of mischief and joy. The boy on the left has chestnut brown hair cropped short. His mouth and hands look sticky and stained a bright red, the likely cause of which being the ice lolly stick still clutched in his right hand. The boy on the right is much smaller, with unruly black hair and red stains on his button down shirt and a matching red mouth. At the bottom someone had written in a tight, cursive script ‘Gerard and Jonathan, August 1999.’ Someone had drawn an ice cream van on the bottom of the page. At the top, in Gerry’s capital letter font, were the words PARTNERS IN CRIME.

The following pages are similar, photos taped onto the pages, sometimes overlapping each other. Some were clearly taken by Jon’s grandmother - the two of them dressed in suits for some function, the two of them sitting at a table and studying, the two of them asleep in the backyard. Others were clearly taken by the two themselves - Gerry smoking a cigarette and flipping off the camera, Jon holding a bottle of beer, Jon reaching for the camera and looking angry, Gerry riding a skateboard, Gerry on the ground with his skateboard upside down next to him. Some of them held commentary - WE LOOKED LIKE TWATS we were eleven!, Gerry has never once landed a kick flip HEY!!!!, we stayed up waiting for the meteor shower, BEST MATES FOR LIFE. Even more held doodles - ocean waves crashing against a rock, a pair of doves, zig zag mazes and tic tac toe, a lit cigarette and a bottle of beer.

“Ah-ha!” Gerry exclaims when Martin is more than halfway through the book, jamming his finger down at the picture taped there.

Martin jumps and looks at him.

“I knew it was in here,” Gerry says smugly.

By this point it looked as if Gerry had already started dying his hair black and growing it long, almost past his shoulders. His eyes were rimmed in black eyeliner and he had at least two piercings that Martin knew hadn’t come with parental permission. Next to him was Jon, hair buzzed down to his scalp and scowling impressively at the camera, wearing a too large leather jacket and a t-shirt for a band Martin had never heard of.

“Oh!” Martin says, grinning, “It looks so good!” He looks up to gauge Jon’s reaction, maybe even tease him a bit, but the words die quickly in his throat.

Jon’s looking right at Gerry, his face a mass of emotions that Martin is at a loss to try and describe. His eyes look wet.

“Jon?” Martin asks, concern tugging away his amusement and leaving it raw.

Gerry’s head snaps up, his own smile rapidly disappearing in the weight of Jon’s gaze.

There’s a long moment where none of them say anything and the room is stifling from the heat and tension. Martin looks between the two of them, trying to piece together what on earth could possibly be wrong, but he’s coming up short on pieces to work with.

It seems like forever before Jon finally says, “You kept it?” The tone of his voice is raw and brittle.

Martin very gently closes the book and sets in down on the coffee table.

Gerry’s mouth opens and closes a couple of times, confused noises eeking out like the squeaking of a rusted hinge. He seems almost as lost as Martin is. Finally his words take shape and land on, “Yes? Yeah, of course I did. Why wouldn’t I have?”

Jon’s eyes flicker away, to the oscillating fan and then to the TV kindly asking if they were still watching. He picks at a loose thread on the chair, fingers working anxiously. “I thought…after your mother- after you left- I thought that…”

Gerry’s eyebrows pull together, his lips tipping down into a frown. “What? Did you think I’d thrown it away?”

Jon shrugs, first one shoulder and then the other, like the collapse of a building. “Just kind of...assumed.” His hands were wringing together now, picking at the skin gently and scratching at his wrist. “After the...after the funeral we weren’t really talking, and then you were just...gone. Thought maybe…” Jon shrugs again, this time lower, hunching himself down smaller, “maybe you didn’t want to remember.”

Oh, Martin thought distantly. Gerry’s mother, Mary, had died when he was only 16, apparently by suicide. It had been a sudden, violent thing that had sent Gerry’s childhood spiraling in a direction he couldn’t control. Less than a week from the time his mother had died, Gerry had been uprooted from the home in Bournemouth he’d always lived in and made to move in with a distant relative named Gertrude up in London. He’d barely had time to process any of it, let alone let Jon know what was happening. It was over ten years before they’d seen each other again, and the gap had always been a sore spot for both Jon and Gerry.

Gerry makes a choked noise and crosses the room in quick strides to kneel in front of the chair. He gathers Jon’s hands in his own, cradling them together. “No,” he says, so softly Martin can barely hear him, “Not you.” He brings their hands up so he can kiss the backs of Jon’s hands, brush his lips over the knuckles. “I never wanted to forget you.”

Jon’s breath hitches.

Martin watches Gerry hold Jon’s hands to his face and mumble something that he can’t make out. Jon’s fingers twitch in response and he huffs out a breath. After a moment he gets up and goes into the kitchen to make them all some tea, flicking the switch on the electric kettle and rummaging through the pantry to find the container of lemongrass tea that he knows Jon likes and the mint tea that Gerry prefers. It doesn’t take long, but he likes the ritual of it anyway. He gathers their two mugs in one hand, and his own mug of a spicy black tea in the other and heads back into the sitting room.

Jon has moved over to the couch, tucked under Gerry’s arm with the book in his lap.

Martin smiles and sets their tea down.

When Jon looks up, Martin bends down and kisses his forehead and then grins wider when Jon’s nose and forehead scrunch up.

“Okay?” Martin asks.

Jon waves at him dismissively but makes a grab for his shirt when Martin turns like he’s going to take the chair. “Yes,” he says, exasperated, “come here, please.”

Gerry squishes himself into the corner and pulls Jon closer to make room, so Martin sighs and fits himself in next to them on the sofa. It’s a cramped fit, but ultimately worth it for the way Jon relaxes against him, flipping absently through the book of memories on his lap.

“Gerry had a point, at least.” Martin says.

“Hm?”

“You looked good with a shaved head,” Martin says too lightly, “might be a good summer to try it again.”

Jon’s protests are drowned out by Gerry’s instant and joyous peal of laughter.

Jon says something about ‘nothing being sacred’, the tips of his ears burning, while Martin tries to hide his grin in his cup of tea. He almost succeeds.

#fic #my fic #visible world #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #gerard keay #jongerrymartin #((here I’ve been writing for like three hours)) #((you can have it)) #((edit: just realized this was missing a whole ass paragraph??)) #((also added a keep reading since apparently no one will reblog anything anymore))