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#like her makeup is a bit more of 'natural' look if that makes sense

mire1li · 3 months

Text

Reader as Alastor's Mother part 3

So I took a little while oops Part 1!, Part 2!

𓋼 You brush his hair every morning. He pretends to find it annoying but he secretly loves it.

Whenever you'd brush his hair, you'd sometimes mention how short it was and that you couldn't do any hairstyles with it, which, on one hand, was good for his pride, but on the other hand, made you sad which also made him slightly sad. So he made the very rational decision to grow his hair out for you so that you could style it one day!

"Alastor, is your hair longer than before?"

"Hm? Is it?" he would never admit he did it for you! 𓋼 At one point, you were in the lobby with everyone else and you started wondering about Alastor's ears since he never actually mentioned anything, of course, you remembered Charlie's constant pleading to pet him, to which he always refused with his typical "Ha! No.", which made you more curious, if perhaps you could get away with it as his mother.

So, only naturally, you placed your hand atop his head and pet him, his ears lightly twitching. Charlie squealed. Of course she did.

"Oh my gosh! Can I do that too?!" she asked

"Haha! Absolutely not."

She wasn't very happy. She ended up pouting the entire day, Vaggie having to comfort her. To Charlie, it was like someone telling her not to pet a cute cat! Absolutely heartbreaking 𓋼 On that specific day, you also asked if he had a tail, and considering he had ears, it would make sense for there to be a tail too. Of course, silly Alastor was too embarrassed to answer in front of everyone, so he avoided the question!

"You're very positive today, Mother, did something good happen?"

"Nothing in particular, so about your tail-!"

"That's for me to know and you to… maybe, find out, Mother!"

You asked him about it again when you two weren't around the others, so he decided to show you! it was a nice revelation. 𓋼 You noticed that the shadow Alastor has following you around all the time, sometimes disappears, so you used that opportunity to go meet Lucifer as he invited you for tea countless times, and who are you to decline such a kind invitation?

When Alastor realised he couldn't find you anywhere in the hotel, he panicked and searched every inch of it multiple times, until Vaggie had finally had enough and asked him what happened.

"What are you doing, Alastor?"

"Searching for my Mother! She's gone missing, you see!" of course, he had a menacing look on his face.

"She mentioned she was going out for a while"

"Oh? And did she say… where?"

"Nope, well anyway, good luck!"

Yeah, Vaggie just left him. So he waited for you patiently at the hotel entrance. When you finally returned, he clung to you like his life depended on it, asking you many questions. 𓋼 I feel like whenever the Overlords had important, confidential, meetings, Alastor would immediately return to the hotel and tell you all about them, whether it be out of spite or fun. You definitely enjoyed knowing all the things going on in hell. 𓋼 You and Niffty put makeup on him when he was asleep and pinned his hair back (Alastor was pretending to sleep, just letting you two do your thing). Angel started laughing and giving him silly nicknames when he saw his hair, which inevitably caused him to shake his head very fast, removing the pin from his hair. 𓋼 Your first birthday with everyone. Of course, Alastor threw you a party. It was meant to be a surprise but considering he’s always with you, you found out because he was more secretive than before (you managed to guilt-trip him into telling you what he was hiding) 𓋼 For Christmas (if you celebrate it), you decorate Alastor with Christmas lights! He says he hates it but he definitely doesn’t, although it certainly made him a little bit scarier when he did that spooky thing with his eyes!

"Mother. Please do explain again why you decided to put christmas lights on me."

"You're more colourful this way!" you turned the lights on, so that now they were switching between multiple colours

Angel and Niffty ended up hanging a few baubles on his antlers too, before he noticed. 𓋼 Charlie had asked about your time alive so you began telling her, and everyone else who was listening, about some silly stories! When Alastor came into the lobby and heard you telling an embarrassing story about him, his ears lightly twitched and flattened against his head. He was just a little bit embarrassed.

Of course, he tried to leave again, unnoticed, however, the all-too bubbly charlie saw him and invited him to join.

"Alastor! [Name] was just telling us stories, come join us!"

"No"

"Alastor, darling, Charlie is being very kind! You need to be around these souls more! Come join."

Of course, he can't say no to you, so he ended up sitting by your side as you continued to tell the story about him, you lightly pet him and hugged him from time to time. Although his ears still stayed flat against his head. 𓋼 You wanted to make a flower crown, but since no flowers actually existed in hell, you had to make do with other things (paper). Yes, you made paper flowers and then turned them into a makeshift flower crown, which you then placed on top of Alastor's head.

"Mother?"

"Darling, I made you a paper flower crown!" 𓋼 Alternatively, you may've decided to sneak out again to find Lucifer.

"Luci, can you sneak us into Heaven?"

"Heaven?! Why?"

"I need flowers"

"Why would you need flowers?"

"To make Alastor a flower crown!"

Yeah, he wasn't too excited about that idea but he still agreed, although it did take a bit of… bribery…

"I'll… give you a kiss if you agree!"

"Let's go!" he opened the portal immediately and took you with him.

In the end, you got all the flowers you needed (after being chased out by Lute and Adam), so you were both… somewhere in hell, for sure.

"So… about what you said, before I got us into Heaven…"

"Oh, right!" You never specified where you'd kiss him so you simply kissed his cheek, he was a little disappointed but it's alright, you got Alastor a lovely flower crown! 𓋼 I feel like he would've been very afraid of spiders when he was alive, and then you were left with the task to exterminate any that entered your home (whether or not you were also afraid) 𓋼 You were quite a fan of new technology (though not completely obsessed), it made life far easier for you, though Alastor always 'confiscated' everything when he was around as he wasn't too keen on it.

"Mother, I don't see what you like about this device so much."

"It's simple to use and makes things quite a bit simpler than back when we were alive."

"I think it's pointless."

"Yes, you've always been a fan of radio… I see that obsession has stuck, even after death"

"It is not an obsession, Mother. I prefer 'fascination'!"

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ghosts-cyphera · 6 months

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okay so porn star ghost is like my new obsession?? he can’t help but read all the tweets and comments and loves the ones where people suggest scenarios for the next videos for the two of you and he just keeps getting kinkier and kinkier in the videos 😍

ooooh my god yes !! one of ps!ghost's favorite things to do before you shoot together is to hang out with you while you get your hair and makeup done, and read the comments out loud to you. not in a mocking way or to tease you. well, to tease you just a little bit—we all know he enjoys turning your cheeks warm—but it's mainly to remind you of all the love coming your way.

"okay that's enough," you laugh as you glance at ghost through the mirror of the vanity. "I want to hear comments about you." "reading the best ones, love," ghost shushed you with a grin. resting on his back on the couch with his arm placed behind his head, he looked casual. relaxed. clearing his throat, he then read: "first I thought I wanted him to rail me braindead. then I thought I wanted her to sit on my face until I pass out. turns out I just want them both to step on me, spit on me, have me as their—," ghost squinted his eyes, "personal—oh! fuckin' right—their personal chew toy," he raised his brows with his grin, "and then revive me so we can do it all over again." "huh." "huh," he echoed your word with his grin. "no one else I'd rather be doin' all that with is all I'll fuckin' say." the quirk of your brow was an unneeded confirmation of "that makes two of us."

ghost also screenshots all the ones where they ship the two of you!! all the comments that say how obvious it is how much you like him, and especially the ones that say that you were meant to be.

he doesn't do it in a creepy way. the comments are simply something he likes to go back to when he's doubting himself or unsure if he's just imagining the twinkle in your eyes as you look at him: the genuine nature of your smile as you kiss him.

he respects that—while you do make him feel special—for you he might be nothing more than just work, but when he feels that sense of longing for you late at night... reading the comments under your videos while grinning in his bed does help.

while ghost is also stable enough to know that feeling jealous over your work with other men is pointless, nobody can convince me that his guilty pleasure isn't to browse through the comments under your videos with graves, lol. because scattered between the comments from white cishet redneck men cheering him on and name calling you (deep breaths, simon), are always comments from your fans.

"ghost would never." "he doesnt know how to touch u like ghost touches u" "he's so focused on his own pleasure that he's forgetting all about her. did he even try to make her come?"

never fails to cheer him up, lol.

oh and bonus from a reply that's still sitting in my drafts, eek:

ghost would also love to reply to the comments, hyping you up with the fans and responding with the most random and cryptic emojis whenever someone even hints towards wanting to see him put a ring on it because of how obvious the sparks between the two of you are.

a fan: ghost, just marry her already. we need to see you living in that little house, hosting dinner parties for real. ghost: 🥸😵‍💫😏

#lo answers #ps!ghost #pornstar!ghost #simon ghost riley x reader #writing this with three hours of sleep under my belt eeek lmao #a:ps!ghost

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toxophilitis · 1 month

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The Widow's Horny Family cont

CHAPTER SIX

Peggy kept seeing, in her mind, Grace.

What she had seen when the robe parted the day before was so unlike the woman, she felt. Although Grace dressed well, her clothing was not designed to draw attention to her body.

What Peggy had seen was a body that should be showed off.

The woman certainly had lovely tits, a bit larger than most, but not grossly so. Her waist was still small and her hips rounded. Seeing her in the back yard, wearing that skimpiest of all bikinis, then seeing the robe fall apart, Peggy suspected there was more than met the eye with Grace.

She recalled the color of Grace’s nipples. The color was stark and vivid, and surely rouge or something had been applied to them. Peggy had seen enough naked tits in her life to know when a woman used makeup on them. And she knew that a woman lacking an erotic mind would never do such a thing.

That meant only one thing—Grace was erotic, yet concealed it. That didn’t make sense, not to Peggy. Peggy had not heard of people that went out of their way to hide the erotic nature they felt. At least she had never met anyone that way, not in the circle she and her late husband had associated with.

Perhaps, she thought, Grace had no choice but to conceal her desires... perhaps her husband, Paul, insisted on it. Perhaps he was the one that held a tight rein on his wife, being a man with a low sexual desire.

If that was true, then Grace must be in misery, she thought.

Peggy was finishing up the washing, standing next to the washing machine. Suddenly she stood up straight, staring at the wall. Was that it? she thought. Had Grace, in her way, made a pass at her? She certainly look her time pulling her robe close over her body, and then Peggy realized those dark eyes had been glowing at that moment.

She left the garage and went to the bedroom, thinking it over. There was no other answer. And the way Grace had gazed at her tits in the tight, sleeveless sweater. Of course, Grace was starved for sex, sex with a woman at that, Peggy thought. Was it possible Grace preferred women to men, a cunt to a cock? There were women who did, Peggy knew, even though married.

Well, Grace had made the overture, she thought as she climbed into the tub. With scented bubbles swirling about her body, Peggy grinned to herself. If she wants some of my hairy cunt, I’m going to give it to her.

After her bath, she dressed in a becoming white skirt and pastel pink blouse. Underneath she was naked. No sense in putting obstacles in the way. She giggled like a school girl anticipating a quick feel at the drive-in movie.

Without calling first, Peggy walked across the lawn of the two houses, knocking at the door.

“What a pleasant surprise,” Grace said when she saw Peggy standing there. “I was thinking about calling you, Peggy.”

Seated again on the couch, with unwanted coffee on the table before her, Peggy lifted her left knee to the cushions, but keeping her skirt down. Grace sat at the other end as they chatted. They spoke of Susy and Donny, of their growing attachment to one another, each agreeing not to interfere, each praising the other’s child.

After about half an hour, with Peggy watching closely for any sign of desire on Grace’s lovely face, she began to feel her judgement had been wrong. Then Grace picked up her coffee and spilled it. With a womanish squeal, she quickly leaned the cup over the couch as if to keep it from falling into her lap. But the motion parted Grace’s thighs, parted them wide. Peggy shot a quick glance between them, and, sure enough, all she saw was dark curly cunt hair—no panties at all.

She was not surprised when Grace left her thighs parted after sitting the cup on the table. Grace was pretending she was not exposed to Peggy. But Peggy made a point of letting Grace know where she was looking. Still talking away, avoiding sex talk, Grace suddenly leaned against the arm, of the couch, drawing one knee up. Peggy allowed a small smile to cross her face as she saw the satiny thigh of the woman, the pretended lack of knowledge about her pussy being revealed. Peggy knew that Grace was feeling her out, waiting to see what effect this would have on Peggy.

There was no garter belt, or nylons today, but Peggy felt that was because of her unexpected visit. Deliberately looking at Grace’s long thighs and dark pussy hair, she lifted her own leg. There was an immediate response from Grace.

The dark eyes of the woman seemed to flare with a bright gleam of hunger, and what she had been saying was caught in her throat. Peggy saw Grace’s tits rising and falling swiftly as Grace gazed with smoldering eyes at the flesh under her white-skirt.

Grace stopped speaking in mid-sentence and just stared under Peggy’s skirt.

“Lick me,” Peggy said, her voice very low and husky.

Grace made no reply.

She repeated it again. “Lick me, Grace.”

Grace lifted her eyes to Peggy’s, her tongue moving over her bottom lip. “I beg your pardon?” Grace said in a breathless voice.

“I want you to lick me,” Peggy said once more, pulling her skirt high and spreading her legs wide. “I want your tongue on me, Grace.”

Grace lowered her hot gaze again, staring with smoldering heat at the thick curls of Peggy’s cunt, seeing her pink wet pussy lips and the tip of her clit.

Both waited, bath breathing heavily, both exposed to the other.

Then, with a sob of desire, Grace scooted swiftly toward Peggy, her arms going around her tightly. Peggy felt the woman’s moist ups crush upon hers, and when Grace snaked her wet tongue past her lips, Peggy began to suck eagerly as she brought her hands up to close her fingers about Grace’s spongy tits. She heard the woman moan against her mouth, then Grace had her hands on Peggy’s tits. They broke apart and, with squeals of delight, began to undress each other with fumbling, eager fingers. When Peggy’s tits were exposed, Grace looked at them, then gurgled happily as she lowered her face and began sucking vigorously upon a rigid nipple. Peggy held the woman’s head tight against her tits, feeling that hungry tongue fluttering and darting, sending moist heat throughout her trembling body.

As Grace sucked on Peggy’s tit, her hand moved down and caressed a satiny thigh, working its way between the sensitive, smooth inner surfaces. Peggy parted her legs and then Grace had her hand cupping her pulsating cunt.

Grace whimpered hungrily as her lips pulled at Peggy’s firm nipple, her palm rubbing back and forth on Peggy’s swollen cunt lips. Peggy writhed on her ass, pressing her steaming cunt into Grace’s palm, urging the woman.

“What about the kids?” Peggy whispered.

“Fuck the Goddamn fucking kids!” Grace said, her voice hoarse with desperate desire. “Fuck them!”

Peggy was delighted, hearing this come from a woman she had seen as aloof and somewhat chilly. Her impression of Grace being an erotic woman was certainly correct.

“Okay, fuck them,” she said. “Stick your finger in my cunt, Grace! Fingerfuck my pussy!”

“Oh, yes!” Grace yelped, flicking a finger deep into Peggy’s slippery cunt.

Peggy leaned back, one leg thrown over the rear of the couch with the other hanging over the cushions. She placed her head on the arm, looking down at Grace’s hand, the finger fucking in and out of her cunt swiftly.

Grace, her eyes moist and filmed over with passion, stared at the curls surrounding her finger.

“Eat me, Grace!” Peggy sobbed, lifting her ass and twisting around with desire. “Oh, Grace... eat my cunt! I love a tongue up my pussy! Suck me, Grace!”

“Oh, yes!”

Peggy, through the haze of her bubbling desire, watched Grace dip down, sliding her body along the cushions of the couch as she swiftly buried her face into her cunt. The movement caused Grace’s dress to ride past her hips, bunch at her waist. Peggy looked at the creamy swells of that beautiful ass, arching her cunt to meet Grace’s mouth.

Then she closed her eyes as passion gripped her.

Grace began to suck and lick and kiss at her cunt with an animal-like hunger. Peggy found Grace very skilled at eating cunt.

She closed her thighs about Grace’s head as the woman sucked her puffy cunt lips between her hot lips, her tongue lapping greedily, fluttering over her clit. Then Grace delved her tongue up into Peggy’s cunt, fucking it back and forth, fucking wildly. Her hands clutched at Peggy’s tight flexing ass, her fingers digging into the hot flesh.

Peggy held Grace’s head in her hands as she arched her hairy, wet pussy up, grinding into the woman’s face. The muffled squeals coming from Grace was all that was required for Peggy to know she had hold of a woman with intense erotic drives and hungers.

Her cunt closed tightly about Grace’s fucking tongue as she churned her crotch up and down, smashing her pussy into the face of the licking, sucking woman. Opening her eyes again, she looked down at the swell of Grace’s lovely ass cheeks, watching them twist as she banged her own cunt against the cushions of the couch. The sounds Grace made were those of a woman desperate to suck this hairy cunt.

It had been some time since she had been tongue fucked by a woman, and Peggy’s emotions were racing with delight. The ecstasy bubbled within her like foaming waves bursting upon some sandy beach. She held Grace’s head tightly, twisting her cunt harshly into that devouring mouth. When Grace sucked her clit between those hot lips, sucking hard as her tongue lapped the tip, Peggy sobbed as a tremendous orgasm ripped through her body. She slammed her cunt hard into Grace’s face, twisting.

Grace’s nose was buried in the thick curls of Peggy’s cunt, her fingers digging into Peggy’s light ass cheeks. She was breathing with excitement as she sucked on Peggy’s rigid, fiery clit. Her lips clung tightly to Peggy’s cunt as she came, moaning with the ecstasy she herself felt.

Grace did not release Peggy until she lowered her naked ass to the couch, and then she looked up with gleaming, bright eyes. Her face was smeared with the juices from Peggy’s pussy. Her dark eyes seemed to be pleading, and Peggy understood the driving torment the woman felt. Her naked ass continued to writhe.

“I want... I need...” Grace mumbled, feeling about Peggy’s cunt gently. “Oh, Peggy, please!”

Peggy caressed her fingers through Grace’s hair, smiling at the woman. “I understand, Grace,” she said softly. “I’ll help you, of course.”

The torment, seemed to leave Grace’s face, and she sat up smiling happily.

“But what about Susy and Donny?” Peggy asked again. “We could easily get caught, you know.”

“Fuck Susy and Donny!” Grace said, again causing Peggy to be amused. “They can find their own fun!”

But, apparently changing her mind, Grace stood up. Peggy looked at the tall slender woman. It was a shame for Grace to hide that enticing body the way she did. Those goodies were just too sweet to conceal.

Grace held her hand out to Peggy. “We’ll go to Susy’s room. They won’t find us there.”

“Susy’s room? Why not your bedroom, Grace?”

“Because... you might not understand.”

“It’s your house,” Peggy said, standing up and taking the woman’s hand.

They walked quickly to Susy’s room. It was the typical teenage girl’s room, with a poster bed, canopy and all. The room was painted pink, and all the furniture was white. Lace and ruffles were everywhere. The room was neat and looked very clean.

Grace sat, on her daughter’s bed, spreading her legs wide. Leaning back on one hand, she caressed her dark-haired cunt with long fingers, smiling with anticipation at Peggy. Peggy dropped to her knees in front of Grace, sliding her hands along those satiny, slender thighs. She gazed into Grace’s crotch, seeing one of the prettiest cunts ever. The hair, dark and very thick formed a perfect triangle. The long strands framed puffy pink cunt lips, and the tip of Grace’s clit peeked invitingly from the moist folds.

Peggy pressed her mouth to Grace’s cunt, kissing moistly. When Grace lay back, Peggy shoved her long legs up and back until Grace held them tight against her arching tits. Peggy, on her knees, gazed with pleasure at the woman’s hairy cunt and puckered asshole. It had been some time since she had had her lips against a cunt, and she was eager for it now. Stroking her hands about the backs of Grace’s thighs and curves of her ass, she teased them both. She probed lightly at the lips of the woman’s pussy, tickled her sensitive clit, making Grace whimper with eagerness, her ass shaking.

“Ohhhh, Peggy! Eat my cunt, please! Lick my hot pussy and tonguefuck it and make me come! Oh, hurry and suck my cunt!”

Peggy moved her face close, her tongue licking about the woman’s puffy pussy lips. She traced Grace’s cunt with her tongue tip, holding the parted cheeks of her ass with both hands. Dipping down, she scraped her tongue around Grace’s asshole, felt her asshole tighten and heard a sob of ecstasy bubble from the woman’s mouth.

Peggy started licking her tongue up and down, going from the pucker of her asshole to the tip of her clit. Up and down her tongue went, her hot breath causing Grace to tremble and yelp with delight. When she slipped her tongue inside the slippery, steaming cunt, her upper lips smashed at Grace’s distended clit. Flicking her tongue in and out swiftly, she writhed her lip. Grace began to twist and churn her cunt furiously, making it difficult for Peggy to keep her mouth pressing upon her pussy. Sometimes her lips and tongue were on Grace’s asshole, sometimes simply in the thick cunt hair, but most of the time she managed to keep her tongue fucking into the heat of that boiling cunt.

She knew when Grace started coming before her wild screams began to fill the room. She knew it because Grace’s cunt closed about her tongue like a wet, slippery vise. She fucked her tongue in and out swiftly as Grace came, the orgasm drawn out until Peggy wondered if Grace would ever stop. And, the screams of Grace got louder. Peggy had to cling to the woman’s hips with tight hands because her ass was churning up and down and revolving powerfully.

When she thought the orgasm was over, Peggy started to pull her tongue free. But Grace had grabbed her head and pulled her mouth tightly into her cunt, her long legs draping over Peggy’s shoulders. The beat of those thighs against her cheeks sent a rumbling orgasm bursting within Peggy’s cunt, and she began to lick and suck furiously once more at the dripping pussy.

“More! Oh, more!” Grace yelled frantically. “I want more! Give me more, you hot fucking cunt! Ohhhh, you sweet fucking bitch! Give me more tongue!”

Peggy heard the words of Grace. Her tongue shot into the cunt once more, sucking in a frenzy.

It was wild and somewhat strange to Peggy. Grace seemed so desperate for this, but the words she yelled somehow failed to fit the image the woman had been showing. Being called those names did not bother her at all. She knew passion was holding Grace. It was the desperation of a woman with intense sexual feelings, nothing more. The words meant nothing except that Grace was almost out of her mind with steaming desire.

The woman’s dark-haired cunt was in spasms again, the lips sucking and clinging to Peggy’s tongue, flexing in wave after wave of orgasms.

It seemed hours before Grace finally let her ass slump, and Peggy pulled her thoroughly wet face out of the greedy cunt. She sat on her heels, watching as Grace breathed with sharp gasps, her naked body trembling and shivering with the after glow of satisfaction.

Later, after dressing, they sat in the dining room of the house, drinking coffee. Peggy could not get over this difference in Grace. No longer did she appear to be a woman of mindless desire. Once again she looked cool and aloof, but her dark eyes were friendly now, very friendly.

“I’ve got to be careful,” Grace said when Peggy asked about this seemingly double personality.

“I don’t understand that at all, Grace,” Peggy said. “You certainly aren’t a cold person—what we just did proves that very well. Is it your husband? Does he cause this... this coolness?”

Grace laughed, the sound low and sensual. “Oh, my goodness no! I think I’ve given you the wrong impression, Peggy.”

“I still don’t understand,” Peggy insisted. “We’ve lived next door to each other all this time, yet you’ve seldom spoke to me, or anyone else that I’m aware of. Why, be so stand-offish?”

“I told you the other day that once we got to know each other, you might understand it,” Grace said. “I’m not sure the time is right, even now.”

But Peggy began to think she understood. She looked at Grace for a long moment, then said, very deliberately. “Do you know that Donny is fucking Susy?”

Grace stared back at Peggy. Although her expression did not change, those dark eyes seemed to become mysterious. Slowly, Grace nodded her head.

“You don’t mind?” Peggy said.

Again there was slight change in Grace’s eyes, but then they became warm again. “There isn’t much I can do about it, Peggy, if I did mind.”

“Of course you can do something about it,” Peggy said. “You’re her mother.”

“Then why don’t you talk to Donny?” Grace said. “Do you care if he’s fucking my daughter?”

“Only if you do,” Peggy said. “Otherwise, I don’t mind at all.” She looked closely at Grace. “What do you mean, there’s nothing you can do about it?”

“Susy is... hot,” Grace said. “She’s so fucking hot, she’s almost insatiable.”

“Susy? Your daughter is...”

Grace nodded. “But it’s understandable, Peggy. After all, look what we just did. I’m that way myself.”

“And your husband?” Peggy pressed. “I suppose he can’t handle you... give you enough?”

“Of course he can,” Grace laughed. “It looks as if you’re going to find out things quicker than I thought.” She stood up.

“Come with me... I’ll show you.”

Curious, Peggy followed Grace down the hall. She watched the sway of Grace’s ass cheeks, seeing a much different walk than usual. She realized that, in her own home, Grace was natural, but strived to be cool in public.

As she stepped into the master bedroom, her eyes went wide.

Every wall, was solid mirror, ceiling and floor included. There was a huge waterbed in the center of the bedroom, and reflections were all over the place. The waterbed was round, and the only thing on it was a black satin sheet. There were white figures all over it, and on close inspection, Peggy saw the figures were all entwined in various sexual positions.

“I love it!” she breathed excitedly. “I just adore it, Grace.”

“Paul and I designed it,” Grace replied. “He’s just as horny as I am... and... Susy. Do you understand now, Peggy?”

“I’m not sure,” Peggy said. “I see a room designed for erotic fucking, of course, and I know you’re a hot one.”

Grace opened a concealed door. It was a closet, Peggy saw, filled with various articles of clothing. When Grace showed the clothing to her, she saw they were all designed with one thing in mind—to tantalize and arouse.

One garment caught her eye.

Taking it from the closet, she looked at it. It was a dress, but certainly too small for Grace. From the front it was complete, but there were two holes in the bodice, where tits could protrude. Turning it, she saw the dress ended at the waist, with the back missing. It had been designed to reveal the person’s ass who wore it.

She looked at Grace.

There was a faint flush on her beautiful flesh, and her dark eyes seemed shy suddenly.

“You and Paul are very erotic, aren’t you?” Peggy said.

“Now you know,” Grace replied, sounding oddly flustered. “Please, Peggy, you won’t say anything about this, will you?”

“Now, who would I tell?”

Grace hugged Peggy. “You don’t think I’m... wicked?” “Good God, no!” Peggy laughed. “I find this delightful!”

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scaryspears · 7 months

Text

Bi Han x Bimbo Reader

"I need to die looking good."

This is for chickensandwich69

Warning: Bi Han is sexist (and a bit of a d*ck), and mild sexual flirting but nothing explicit.

She has priorities.

She wasn't fighting for Earthrealm, nor did she have any interest in fighting for Shao Kahn. She was in it for herself, blindsided and forced to compete, but making the most of what she could enjoy out of it.

And that was something Bi Han could respect, even though her motivations weren't. Spending time with friends, shopping, getting her hair and makeup done, and scoring herself a romantic companion.

The She/Her in question is you. You were a ballerina, a gymnast, a cheerleader, pageant Queen. It was clear competition is in your blood, so the tournament was a walk in the park for you. The fighting part, anyway. Seeing you freak out over blood was another matter.

"Do you want me to massage your hair?" you asked him, a cheeky smile on your face. He nodded, and you did as you offered.

Seeing Bi Han's face was a luxury, and you would do anything to see it as long as you could, even though you didn't mind him with his mask. You liked being the one that gets pampered, but you would make an exception for Bi Han.

He questions how it came to this, all the time.

Maybe it's your Chaosrealm blood. Nothing made sense around you but it came naturally. It happened out of nowhere. First, you're watching him train with Cyrax. Second, you're following him and yapping your mouth off. Third, he ends up doing something very intimate with you and he's wearing less clothes. And it involves his mouth and lower region.

Your relationship wasn't much of a secret, considering you were seen hugging his arm if you were both in the same room or area, but not enough lived to know it as fact. With the tournament and all. Or just in general. Bi Han saw competition in their gazes, which meant jealousy. Which meant lots of ice and blood during fights. Thankfully you were too dumb to figure it out, because blood upset you a lot, and you had only started making an exception for the tournament.

"What else would you like me to do?" you were sitting on his lap now, something in your eyes. Pretty obvious what you were feeling.

Oh yeah, that's why. There was no way he would resist this.

Bi Han may be a Lin Kuei assassin, and one that takes his profession very seriously, but he could enjoy a good lady himself. You had just broken up with your boyfriend so it felt like a fitting decision to take your attention while it was still available to him. So long as you were his no one else could have it.

Companions were not common within the clan, and you were an excellent fighter. Sure, there were the cultural differences and the clash of personalities, but if the Lin Kuei were to ever find out it would be unbelievable, so it was a right decision.

You desired him and he desired you, it worked both ways. Both of you were being selfish, he was certain, but you initiated so he had no reason to care about your feelings.

[Noob Saibot]

He grew more possessive of you, and that possession followed him when he died. Before he would freeze any man that flirted with you, these days he killed them. You were distraught when Bi Han died, but you weren't sure what to make of his new self. It was still Bi Han, but he was Goth now and you've never been with a Goth before. You were determined to try something new, however, so you kept going on with the relationship.

You didn't understand his new found problems with his brother or where his bizarre mindset came from, but your main concern was matching with your boyfriend, so you had a bunch of black designer dresses lined up in your wardrobe.

"I guess Goth isn't a phase." you said to yourself. Then again, your parents thought you were a phase.

Bi Han gently brushed your hair out of your face and kissed your cheek, even though his skin wasn't as soft as it originally was, which meant his lips were almost shrivelled into his skull. It would only be fair if you were dead as well, that way he wouldn't feel left out from lack of lips.

"Where is your fear?"

"I think I left it in my purse."

"We will find it."

You had only started getting used to his new odd way of showing his affection, but it still made your insides all fluttery. You kissed him sweetly. Your lip gloss stained on his 'lips', and Bi Han didn't show any irritation, but there was the pride she recognised. It wasn't often he gave an expression since his change.

#bimbo reader #mortal kombat headcanons #bi han #sub zero #noob saibot #mortal kombat #joe taslim #bi han x bimbo reader #mortal kombat x bimbo reader #noob saibot x reader #yandere bi han #yandere noob saibot

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muffymello · 18 days

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Handsy- ii

(Buggy the Clown x f!Reader)

A small-town shopkeep makes the second biggest mistake of her life by humouring a pirate captain's idea.

1.2k Words

Another boring day working in that stupid shop had taken a full 180 to you now being sat in the lap of a feared pirate captain as you watched the theatrics and insanity of his ship’s circus tent. The one constant of the last few hours was the detached hand holding yours tightly, the white cloth of his glove not concealing the warmth of his palm against yours. The hand, now reattached to Buggy’s arm, didn’t seem intent on letting you go any time soon.

He sat wide-legged with you wedged sideways in his lap, your back resting against the high-set arm of the throne with his other arm right behind it. This positioning had your faces set awfully close together as he grinned maniacally. “So, doll, what’s the story? Kidnap my hand for attention, hm?” He prodded, his arm now snaking around your back to hold you in place. You tensed a little at his words, brain going blank for a minute before you could respond.

“I found it in an alleyway- just a few hours ago! Came here right away…” You lied with a forced smile, not wanting him to know you’d unknowingly caught the hand in the first place. Your best bet was to change the subject a bit, avoid any more suspicion than what you could already see in his narrowing eyes, smudgey makeup framing pretty blues.

“Is that so? Well then, someone as loyal as you should be a part of my crew!”

The certainty of his tone as well as his bold statement caught you off guard, planning to ask something meaningless about his crew or outfit when he proposed such an absurd offer. You squirmed in his lap, only prompting him to give your hand a squeeze and tighten his arm around your back, moving it to rest comfortably on your waist as he pulled you in close to give you nowhere to look except right into those eyes of his. “Whaddaya say, then? Life of a pirate ain’t so bad, y’know~” He teased, still grinning like a maniac.

Alam bells blared in your head at everything going on, but you couldn’t fight off the part of your heart that wanted to accept immediately. The makeup and showmanship of it all wasn’t what enticed you, but the way his hand had remained gentle in yours, keeping you from feeling any real fear at all. You’d assume a fearsome pirate like this to be brutal in nature, but the way your fingers interlaced with his so easily, such a soft and simple gesture, not painful or distressing, had your ever-sappy heart doing cartwheels. “I- uh…”

Mumbling was all you could manage, breaking eye contact and looking around the tent. Everything about this was the exact opposite of your normal. Unpredictable, seemingly no routine or discipline. Still, everyone smiled and shared in eating, drinking and laughing as they performed. It was like a happy family amidst how chaotic it felt, and the rumbling laughter you could feel in the clown’s chest only immersed you further in the experience.

“Not to worry doll, run along for now to think.” He said, amused by how dumbstruck the simple ask of joining his crew had rendered you. His hand once more popped off of his body, less unsettling than it should be to you. The hand led the way, guiding you through the crowds and wild motion, seemingly sure of how to take a path without intervening or colliding with anything.

Buggy the Clown was surely the only man in the world who had any sense to navigate chaos such as this, and as his hand led you all the way to the edge of your ship, you couldn’t help one last gentle squeeze before watching it fly back to its owner.

Your heart panged with guilt as you knew better than to even consider his wild ideas, there was no way you were cut out for being a pirate. The shop hadn’t exactly trained you for something like that, the closest thing had been lifting heavy boxes and fighting off rude customers. That was nothing compared to the dangers faced at sea, especially as a part of such a well-feared crew.

The idea of the brutality was too much to even weigh out as an option, and you sighed as the music faded and the ship went out of view as you walked home to sleep off the insanely fast beating of your heart in your chest.

_____

The next morning was a new day. New wasn’t the best word for it, as it would all be the same. Same breakfast, same clothes, same walk to work at the same time as usual. Normally, the monotony was no bother, but after seeing the excitement of the pirate ship you’d boarded the night previous the dullness of it all felt suffocating.

Your coworker didn’t even believe half the things you told her as you recounted the encounter with Buggy the Clown himself, her face paling as you told her about his offer. “Hell, you said no right away didn’t you?” She practically begged, grabbing the sleeve of your shirt. “I didn’t exactly say yes, or no. He told me… to think.” You said causing your coworker to pale even further at the glint she saw forming in your eyes.

“Oh God, you know all the things that could happen to you?” “Yes, I do. I hear stories all the time.” “It’s no joke! This is serious!” The two of you went back and forth, even if you hadn’t fully convinced yourself her words didn’t faze you in the slightest. After a few minutes, she huffed and pulled a backpack out from under the register, red in the face.

“Just go.” She muttered, not looking you in the eyes. “Pack this up and get going, who knows when they’ll leave port.” Her words were practically a whisper as you saw tears begin to bubble up along her lashes. She didn’t even give you a chance to question her motives here before speaking again.

“I’ve never seen you so… bright. You’re glowing, you’ve been practically dancing around the store all day. This small town isn’t big enough for that mind of yours, take your chance before I change my mind and never let you go… and quick, their boat won’t stay docked forever!” She practically yelled at you, holding the bag out.

You gave her a quick hug and nod before grabbing it, shouting out your thanks as you ran from the store to grab anything and everything you’d need for life as a pirate before the Big Top took off again to the seas.

As you stumbled out onto the dock you saw the ship begin to move, but the panels around the ship’s cannons were big enough to squeeze through. With a great leap and a bit of wiggling, you were officially a stowaway beyond the point of return as the storage room you’d ended up in greeted you merrily with the clanking of what you assumed to be alcohol bottles and sloshing of sake in large, hefty barrels.

You could hear the sound of another outrageous party over the deafening beating of your heart as you curled up in the corner, reaching into your pocket to give Buggy’s hand a squeeze but realizing it obviously wasn’t there anymore.

You wondered what your fate was on this ship, if the great clown would pay you any mind, but your thoughts were cut short as loud, sluggish footsteps echoed louder and louder down the halls.

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bloodsuckerproxy · 11 days

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Introducing...The Jacksons!

The family for my STNAF OC Lenny (find more about him here)

I knew when I made Lenny I wanted him to have a very different upbringing to Friend. I knew he was going to come from low-income and he's personally based off the type of people I grew up around and as. We also don't see this family type often enough and I wanted to show that :3

As always, STNAF belongs to @stnaf-vn and please check the game out!!!!

About the Family

Lil Frankie

5'9"

Protective, Cold, Selfless, Tomboy

Frankie was thought to be a boy during Ruby's pregnancy and so they were going to name her after Frank. Turns out she was a girl and they stuck with the name, opting for Frankie instead

She comes off as rude and cold, but she actually is just no nonsense and wants to keep her family/friends safe

Currently a bodyguard and does boxing on the side

Very salty she is shorter than Lenny

Daddy's girl

Frank

6'1"

Caring, Clumsy, Artistic, Sweet

Frank is like literally the embodiment of Goofy. He does his best but always seems to get hurt or break something. He means well though!!

Was a young dad (17) but did his best for his kids, including going back to school so he could get a better job once Lil Frankie was a couple years old

Currently a mechanic. Likes to make trash sculptures on the side

Very DIY. Taught Lenny everything about fixing things and making something out of nothing

Loves Ruby dearly. Will always find a way to gift her something. Knows her fave lipstick shades

Rebecca "Ruby"

5'9"

Assertive, Chatty, Caring, Motherly

Ruby was also 17 when her and Frank had Lil Frankie. She finished high school and worked through cosmotology school after the pregnancy

Currently a hair stylist and nail tech

Practiced doing hair and nails on Lenny since he liked spending time with her

She adores how sweet (and slightly stupid) Frank is and that's why they ended up falling in love. They are high school sweethearts fr <3

Will always welcome people into her home even if she can't offer anything more than a roof over their head or an ear to listen. Very selfless

Comes off as very gossipy but she will die with your secrets if you ask her to

Lenny

6'2"

Carefree, Open Minded, Optimistic, Punk

Takes after his dad in personality but is a total momma's boy

Ruby: Ruby taught him about fashion, makeup, nails, etc. and often practiced on him since he liked being pampered. He loves his mom a lot and her open minded nature made him the man he is today

Frank: Frank and Lenny don't need to say much to be together. They are very similar people and even though Frank's silly stories never seem to make sense, Lenny always listens. They love to make trash sculptures together or go dumpster diving

Lil Frankie: Frankie always had to look out for Lenny since he was a bit of a naive kid, but also when he got more into fashion. She would protect him despite the fact he could defend himself from bullies. He loves his big sister and he loves to annoy her (she pretends to hate it but she loves him back lol)

Anyways I wanna draw more STNAF once I have time fr fr :3

#stnaf #see thru need a friend #see thru need a friend oc #oc #original character #fanart #digital art #artists on tumblr #punk #midwestern #family

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py-dreamer · 27 days

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WOAH! 2 UPLOADS BACK TO BACK?!

Don't get too excited but yea, I've had these two in my back pocket for a long time now, just didn't really have the motive to finish them per say

Commission for designs for a fic my friend is writing so go check it out!

vvvv

I know it looks very different from the tight spandex miraculous designs but I definitely wanted to incorporate that LMK style with like armor and extra....like fabric on the sides? Just extra bits and bobs to make the designs interesting

But for me the most important parts were to make the purpose of the miraculous obvious, make them look cool and hide their identity (I think they'd look quite different from their human civilian forms)

Oh! And in case you haven't noticed, the miraculouses aren't animal themed anymore. Mainly because especially for the monkeys and dragons, it didn't make sense for them to have multiple miraculouses with the same animal. But it still keeps the theme of magically specialised powered jewels with one specific power outside of enhanced natural abilities with the akumatisation process

(spicynoodles of course)

(my friend and I developed so much brain rot behind the scenes, someone gets impaled, have fun guessing who!)

I'm gonna be honest, never really liked the sleek spandex polkadot suit that much so decided to go in a different direction

I do really like how Mk's design came out with the fluffy jacket and everything. I was wondering how to include like the feathery bits on top when I saw this fanart of Wukong wearing a cap and the two bits were sticking out like that and just stole that lol. I personally do really like the mask, again inspired by wukong's opera makeup

Red son was more tricky though, his design specifically the top area needed a lot of finessing and I saw this one other fanart of his fiery hair being blue at the end and man! it looked cool but I could not for the life of me figure it out, I did steal the bull mascarade mask from my the cat returns piece but hey it looks cool! And I didn't have a lot of ideas for other masks. Fun fact, the brown prayer beads are inspired from his days as a disciple under Guanyin.

Even though I'm not doing that tight spandex bs, I still wanted the two to look cohesive, and look like a team unit, I hope they do

Let me know any opinions! I'm very curious, the new style yay? Or nay?

(Also my friend wrote the 2nd chapter after I showed her the designs, Mk ISN'T meant to have a yellow cape. NO CAPES FOR THIS LAD)

#lmk #lego monkie kid #py's_art #lmk mk #lmk au #qi xiaotian #lmk red son #hong hai'er #lmk spicynoodles #spicynoodles #mlb au #miraculous ladybug au #commission

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mikalame · 9 months

Note

hii could you do kind of platonic fem reader where her, bill and tom do everything together like when they watch a movie both of them are cuddling with reader if that make sense? and when they do other things too it’s always both of them with reader. maybe their fans think she is dating both of them but they are actually just really good friends but they are also super close yk? like their love language is tuch and all three just have so much love for each other. maybe reader has had her private moments with bill and tom but it didn’t work out with either of them and if didn’t affect the friendship either?

taglist : @oppopotamus @violentnewmarley

"____!, you should totally come over to our house after practice" Bill whines, Bill you know i cant have to do my chores" you groan back having already told him that you needed to do them "Oh come on ___ pleasee, we will help you with them but only if you come over to ours" Tom pleased while packing all his guitar things away "wait, i dont wanna do chores" Bills says to his brother shocked that he would amke them do more chores than nessisary "Ill only come over if you help with them" ___ says back with a smug smile on her face "Ughh, fineee" Bill groans "Woo, Ho" Tom says happly.

Time skip

"Oi, are you watching the movie without me" Tom says "uhm, no?" ___ says with a mouth full of m&m's "how could you, you told me you would wait, you liar's" Tom says with faux sadness as he plops himslef on the couch on the opposite side of her "Oh get over it tom we called you ealirer but you were probaly to busy jerking off huh" ___ says cockly "was not" Tom says trying to defend himself, the two of you started to bicker "shut up, im trying to watch the movie you interrupted Tom" ___ snaps back. After the movie had ended both of you fell asleep on the couch toms arm wrapped around your shoulder and you leaning on him. Unbeknown to them but Georg had come in with one of the camera crew members and walked in on them, the camera capturing it all, tabloids went crazy thinking that you two were dating lol.

"OMG, did you see Britnry Spears new song ahhhhh i love it so muchh" Bill says bustimg down your door and jumping on to your bed nearly knocking over the nail polish you were using to paint your nails on to your magazine you were reading. "Wow, bill watch where you are going,nearly knocked over my stuff" you say pretending to be angry "oooo thats a pretty shade i love it, Oh could you paint mine its starting to chip a bit and yk i suck at doing my right hand" Bill says kicking off his shoes onto your floor" grabbing the magazine flipping though it "Oooo you would look so good with this makeup look" you point at one of the looks in the magizine leaning into bill "nah not my thing not enough black ahahah" Bill laughs "Bill, could you help me with my other hand i dont have much nail polish remover left and i dont wanna use it all up yet" you say "yea sure honey" bill says grabbing the brush from you. You two take some cute selfies uploading them onto facebook. Tabliods when crazy again (girl your so popluar lol)

Here are some HC of places where you 3 have been that made it seem like you were dating them.

. 5 star resturant- you three were clebrating winning an award and went to dinner for it. Georg and Gustav showed up later as they wantd to be dressed fancier for the dinner

. Movies- You were watching the movie that Bill voiced acted. He was very proud and wanted 2 of the most important people in his life to watch it with him.

.ice skating rink- you 3 had seen some funny videos of people doning and wanted to see if you were any better (you looked like newborn deers) you and bill were laughing at tom as his jeans goit caught on the ice and he assed over

. on a picnic- you 3 had gotten back from a 2 month long tour and just wanted some time with just you three and nature (bill got chased by a squirel trying to have his snow white moment)

Hope you likeee dont mind the spelling mistakes

#bill kaulitz #tom kaulitz x reader #tom kaulitz #bill kaulitz x reader #tokio hotel

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gadriezmannsgirl · 1 year

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Gorgeous -Pedri González

Guess who's back with more Vzlan! Reader fics?! Ajá, yo🤭😌 Also... Influencer!Reader

Warnings: High content of Venezuelan slang, curse words, some jokes (?) or mentions of them because I can't joke to save my life, lots of Spanish.

Please, feedback is highly appreciated!

Summary: The guys made him know you but your warm aura and way of being was the one to make him fall for you

You. Y/N Y/L/N. A pretty much famous Latina influencer. You kinda went all in, a lot of people followed you because, you liked sports and health, often gave outfit and makeup tips, travelled and the one you loved to do the most was photographic art, also you didn't had the need of being another persona in front of the cameras. You were exactly the same in and out.

And you guess the realistic side of you, the natural, humble but still strong and pretty girl you are, was the thing that attracted people the most to you.

Including, the football player Ansu Fati.

The young man had started following you back in 2020, when you moved to Barcelona and it was for a simple mistake he turned being your fan, he had bumped into one of your posts about this healthy recipe and asked his mom to try it out for him. When he grabbed a bite he fell in love with it and started following you for more recipes but at the end of the day, he fell into your "fandom" because of your natural personality.

You never tried, you were just you.

So when one day he was wheezing, laughing and crying when training was done, his teammates were a bit concerned about what had possesed him.

"Hostias, ¿Y a ti qué te pasa, tio?" Pedri had asked as Ansu kept on laughing, when Balde went behind him and saw his phone, the image of you in a podcast with your other three friends laughing your asses off, made sense to the other guy who nodded letting out a simple 'Ah!'

"What's up with him?" Ferran asked

"He's watching another video of Y/N Y/L/N" Balde joined him "When did she posted this one?" Balde, along with Pablo Torre, Eric and Ansu were big fans of yours thanks to the last one influence

"It's not hers" He managed to say "It's from these guys who she hangs around with always"

"You mean "Los Bichos"?" Pablo Torre asked getting behind them to see the content as well "I gotta go and see that one"

"What's the big thing about her?" Pedri suddenly asked. He had heard your name before and knew you were an influencer but never really saw one of your videos or really followed you on Instagram or any other social media. The guys looked at him as if he was crazy, not really believing what their friend had just said.

"She's amazing" Ansu answered "She gives good tips on health, fashion, she also does travelling and photography and she likes sports. Her carisma is what attracts people in"

"Not to mention the looks" Torre murmured "Hermosa" He blew a kiss towards Ansu's phone

"Aurora is basically in love with her, always having one of her lives, videos, podcasts or anything"

"Sira's the same" Ferran nodded "I have seen her, she's quite the jokester too"

Suddenly all of them were watching Ansu's phone

"Well, she indeed is really pretty" Gavi agreeded

"Sad that she may not be like we see her on real life tho" Pedri shrugged his shoulders

"No, she is" Torre nodded "One of my girl friends has met her and she says she's the sweetest"

Pedri could only see your smile and the way you threw your head back in laughter, amazed, you were beautiful. He wasn't going to deny it, he had eyes, big ones in fact, and he could see the beauty of women.

"How old is she?" Gavi asked

"She just turned twenty" Eric said

"What did you say her name was?"

"Y/N Y/L/N" He nodded pretending not to be interested

That very same night, Pedri was fighting himself to watch some of your content on Instagram and Youtube, he didn't know what was he afraid of, he was just going to see what's the fuss of the guys, nothing else.

But oh boy...

One video, turned into two, then three, four, five, six and by the time he realized it was 2:30 am, his battery that used to be on 87% was now in 4% and thirty videos he had watched

"Hostia, mae'mia" The Canarian murmured "It's really late" He considered plugging his phone and stop seeing your videos but the longer he kept thinking of it, the less he wanted to let go of his phone, he wanted to see your smile one more time, your laugh and your pretty big eyes, you indeed were really sweet in and out of cameras.

He had now seen the thing the guys had seen in you too. He decided to push the Follow button on your Instagram account and also decided to see the last Live you have done recently which was three days ago.

"¿Por qué no hablas español?" (Why don't you talk Spanish?) You had read confused "¿Y es que yo hablo chino?" (And do I speak Chinese?) You laughed lightly "I think I get what you mean, it's the accent, right?" You stopped for a second to drink some water "Well, déjame decirte chama que mi acento venezolano es demasiado bello pa' yo cambiarlo. I don't mean to say the Spanish accent isn't pretty, because it really is, I like it. It's just not my style because I'm obviously not a Spaniard" (let me tell you, girl, that my Venezuelan accent is too beautiful for me to change it) You paused a little

"Sí, que se me puede salir un poquillo el vosotros y algunas cosillas que hacéis" (Yes, I can get out a little about and some things that you guys do) You did a perfect Spanish accent laughing "Pero, no" You spoke naturally shaking your head (But no)

He smiled watching you and your Latina roots, defending and wearing them proudly.

That was only the start of Pedri crushing on you. The next following weeks, he had not missed a single Live, Vlog or post that you did. Soon the guys knew Pedri had developed a crush on you when Gavi spied on his phone and saw him looking a post about a photoshoot you had done for Vogue España

"You like her?" Eric asked

"She's really nice" He had nodded blushing

"But you like her?"

"She is nice" Pedri repeated "She probably doesn't know me"

"C'mon, the girl loves sports, she's actually a Barca fan!!" Ansu replied as Pedri smiled shaking his head

"It's just a mere crush, it'll go away in a while" He said and everyone dropped the subject.

"¡Hola mis amores lindos!" (Hello my beautiful loves!) You smiled at the camera "Yo estoy bien y espero que ustedes se encuentren muy bien también y si no pues espero que este mensaje les anime un poquito... Les hablo para notificarles que como cosa rara" (I'm fine and I hope you're feeling very well too and if not, then I hope this message encourages you a little... I'm speaking to notify you that as a strange thing) You laughed lightly "Mis chicos de "Los Bichos" me han invitado nuevamente a ser parte de uno de sus magnificos episodios de su podcast, el episodio va a ser en vivo, podremos contestarles algunas de sus preguntas, mandar saludos, revelaré unas pocas cosas que se vienen en grande y bueno, las demás vainas que los chicos hacen, ustedes ya saben como es la cuestión así que sin más nada que decir los espero este jueves a las 21hrs de España. Les mando un besote bien grande y un abrazo muy cálido. Take care!" (My boys from "Los Bichos" have invited me again to be part of one of their magnificent episodes of their podcast, the episode will be live, we will be able to answer some of your questions, send greetings, I will reveal a few things that are coming Big and good, the rest of the things that the boys do, you already know what the matter is, so without further ado, I'll wait for you this Thursday at 9:00 p.m. in Spain. I send you a big kiss and a very warm hug)

It was set. He cleared up his whole agenda, just to have Thursday night free all to himself... And well, to Fer as well.

"Why are you so suddenly obsessed with that girl?" Fer asked as Pedri got ready to watch your Live, he had connected his laptop to his TV and his phone besides him "You've been a month and something suddenly Y/N this and Y/N that"

"She's good" Pedri shrugged his shoulders

"You like her?"

"Puff, no" When Pedri turned around to see his brothers face he knew he couldn't lie "Maybe a little?" Fer raised his eyebrows

"I'm not gonna make fun of you" Pedri sighed

"Okay, she's gorgeous and I like her" Pedri admitted

"She seems really nice"

"Torre says he has a friend that has met her and that she's the sweetest" Pedri replied "I kinda want to meet her"

"Slide into her DM's and say: Hey, big fan. Wanna go out?" Pedri laughed

"Sure, she will say yes quickly" Both brothers laughed as the Podcast started.

"Welcome to another episode of Los Bichos, today we'll be talking a bit of everything but mostly about our love humiliations or just humiliating thing that has happened to us in general"

"And who's better to say that than Y/N Y/L/N?" Other guy said presenting you

"My life isn't that bad, Adrián" You replied smiling "Worse than Miguel's can't be, that's for sure" You point with your lips to the guy sitting in front of you as he shocked points at himself and laughs in disbelief

"Well, she's got a point" The first guy talked

"Nelson talks as if he has the greatest life ever" Miguel said pointing to the first guy with his head

"I don't actually but everyone's life is better than yours, pendejo" You all laughed out loud "Ve, ¿Y tú aquí haciendo algún tipo de propaganda?" (Look, are you here doing some kind of propaganda?) You shook your head

"¿Por qué dices eso?" (Why you say that?) You ask

"The big Barcelona jersey you have on" You look down and smile

"Mano, no; I'm not doing anything. Si supieras que el Barcelona me había enviado un email hace como tres semanas y yo nunca les respondí" (If you know, the Barcelona sent me an email three weeks ago and I never answered them)They laughed "Saben que yo soy fan del club y me hicieron una camisa con mi nombre y el número de mi jugador favorito" (They know I'm fan of the club and they made me this Jersey with my name and the number of my favorite player) You casually replied not thinking too much of it

"Which is?"

"Un jugador" You smirked playing with your golden bracelete, they started yelling a few "A"'s "B, C y D" They laughed "¿Tú creíste que yo iba a ser mongola para caer en esa vaina? No, señor" (Did you thought I was going to be a fool and fell into the trap? No, sir) You shook your head smiling "¡Maldición! I forgot this is live!" (Shit) You yelled "How are you guys doing?" You ask winning a round of laughter with the guys

"We're starting here... Y/N, care to tell us something humiliant that has happened to you?"

"My whole life" You replied as they laughed "No, kidding. Once I had something going on with this guy, it was December and..."

If Pedri liked you, by the end of that live he was most likely in love with you. You were simple and very funny, your sense of humour was the thing that ended up pulling him into you.

He honestly felt like a fan of his but with you. It was terrifying as hell.

"Ad, ¿Si vas a hacer por fin el stand up comedy show?" You asked

"Yes, I will be doing it" Adrián nodded "Why?"

"I wanna go" You pout a bit

"You're invited, don't worry"

"Remember everyone when is it" Nelson said

"This Sunday at 20hrs in the Batuar Hotel Cotton House, make sure to get the tickets as soon as possible they're almost sold out"

"We need those" Pedri said immediately grabbing his phone and getting on the app "¡Hostias, joder! It's too slow"

"Calm down, we'll get one"

After fifteen painful minutes when Pedri was about to finish the purchase, his screen filled out with the No Availabe words

"This event is sold out"

"¡Puta que le parió!" Pedri exclaimed feeling sad

"It's okay bro. She's here in Barcelona, we can see her any other day" Pedri sighed

"I really wanted to see her this Sunday"

"Maybe not this Sunday, but eventually you will" Pedri sighed in annoyance

"Anyway, let's finish watching this" He murmured his eyes on the screen.

His eyes fixated on the Barca home jersey you were wearing and the words my favorite player's number, he wondered... It could be his? Also... You looked incredibly good with the club of his dreams, he couldn't help but imagine you on the stands cheering on for him when suddenly he got himself out of that dreamland. He was really starting to seem like his fans who daydreamed about him.

His mood was down a bit Friday and Saturday when they were at training and Ansu came up to them

"I hope all of you are free tomorrow"

"Why?" Gavi asked as Ansu pulled out six tickets

"We're going to see Adrián Jiménez's live show were Y/N will be present"

Pedri quickly ran and grabbed a ticket, his mood lifted up completely, he grabbed Ansu's head and kissed him

"Thanks, amigo"

"Thanks, nothing. I will be your best man at the wedding"

...

Sunday rolled in and Pedri was nervous and excited, he would be in the same place as you, hopefully met you and make himself fall in love with you once again. You just had a thing that drew him into you and he liked it. Your Latina beauty keeping him on his feet everytime, you way of expressing yourself, your carisma, everything he saw from you, he liked it.

Thanks to Eric, they were a bit late, fifteen minutes late, the show had already started as they were looking for their table, thanfully everyone was into Adrián, they didn't recognized the six football players coming in, everyone but you.

You were surprised seeing them here, you didn't know they were fans of Adrián or the rest of the guys, but you were even more surprised when three of them sat in your table, you greeted them with a little "Buenas noches" and a warm smile, Pedri who was besides you smiled widely at hearing your voice

"Ferran Torres"

"Pablo Torre"

"Pedri"

You smile lightly "Y/N Y/L/N"

"Chica, deja de estar chanceando" (Girl, stop joking around) Pedri saw you lift your hands a bit surprised being scolded by your friend

"¡Pero no estoy chanceando!" (I'm not joking around!) You exclaimed a little

"¿Ah no?" He shook his head "What are you doing?"

"Greeting my tablemates" The place laughed at your face "¡Y si lo estuviese no es tú peo, mano!" (And if I were, it's not your deal, man!)

"Oye, mira tú-"

"¡'Tas en medio de un show, sigue hablando de como dejaste caer el telefono en el baño de la estación del metro!" (You're in the middle of a show, keep talking about how you dropped the phone in the subway station bathroom!)

"Verga y lo más arrecho es que lo tenía que usar urgente" (Fuck and the most awful thing is that I had to use it urgently) His words made the whole place laugh "You were with me that day"

"I definitely wasn't"

"¿Cómo que no estabas pero sabes lo que pasó?" (How come you weren't there but do you know what happened?)

"You texted it in the groupchat, tonto"

"Shit, I always do that, I eat and I pass pics, I shit and I pass pics, I walk and I pass pics, I play FIFA and I pass pics... I need to stop doing that"

"Please don't" You asked laughing "Me acuerdo aquel día que estabamos todos haciendo una videollamada, tú fuiste a hacerte una merienda y te ha salido una tarántula en uno de los empaques" (I remember that day we were all making a video call, you went to make yourself a snack and a tarantula came out in one of the packages)

"MOVING ON!" Laughter filled the room.

Besides your greeting and you apologising for your friend's craziness, you never spoke with any other of the guys just small smiles when the even was done you said your goodbyes to them and went to Adrián, Pedri sighed having lost his chance to talk to you

"C'mon, man. You let her go"

"I just couldn't do it... I don't know what happened"

"You'll have another chance, bro" Gavi patted Pedri's back smiling tightly at him "She was watching you too" The youngster smirked making Pedri shake his head

"I'm gonna go to the bathroom, guys. Ya vuelvo" (I'll be back) And with that Pedri left them.

He splashed water on his face and cleaned his hands, slightly disappointed in the fact he didn't do anything else to talk to you. He shook his head

"Quizás no es hora" (Maybe it's not time) He murmured looking at his mirror reflection before leaving the bathroom.

It was like a destiny thing.

You were in front of him and seemed a bit lost, looking around with a confused face.

"¿Todo bien?" (Everything alright?) A male's voice pulled you out of your thoughts, turning around to meet the owner's voice

"Sí, todo bien. Sólo que, no tengo ni la menor idea de dónde puede estar la salida de este lugar" (Yes, everything's good. It's just, I don't have a single clue on where the exit of this place can be) You admitted "El muy..." You moved your moth but no sound came out "puto de Adrián me dejó por un chance que le salió, se fue así sin decir nada y..." (The... fucker of Adrián left me for a date he got, he left without saying anything and...) You sighed "I'm kinda lost in this big place" You smiled shyly "What about you?"

"Bathroom" You nod letting out a little 'Oh!' "Want me to help you?" Your eyebrows went up for a bit "I'm not an incredibly knowner of the place, I've come here twice... Maybe walk you to your car?" You smile shaking your head

"I would take up on your offer but I also don't have anyone to take me home, my car broke down yesterday, Adrián offered me the ride and you are probably busy or just want to have the rest of the night off, so I wouldn't like for you to ditch your plans to spend it glued to me because I was left alone" You smiled as he shook his head

"It wouldn't be a problem for me" Pedri said "I would love to help you, I can give you a ride if you like" He smiled softly "Venga, vamos" He offered your his arm "Maybe you can tell me about more of those healthy recipes? Or talk to me in Venezuelan slang?" You both laughed

"There are too many recipes I can share with my Venezuelan accent but we would need more time for that than a single ride" You accepted his arm watching him smirk

You looked at him smiling lightly "Then how about we can go for a coffee next time?"

°°° °°° °°° °°°

Taglist: @gaviypedrisbride @stuckinaf4nfiction @elijahslover @azzpenswrld

258 notes · View notes

vivwritescrappythings · 3 months

Text

And They Were Roommates

modern!Hobie Brown x Reader

My first ever fanfiction posted online.

TW: afab!reader, she/her pronouns, drinking, bad writing?, very OOC Hobie, didn’t write the accent or slang please don’t come for me.

Word Count: 12.9k

masterlist

——

The apartment is cold when you wake up, the crappy heater barely able to keep up with the frigid air outside. Getting out of bed takes some coaxing on your part, the quilt warm around your limbs. But you are determined to have a good day.

You emerge from your bed with tangled hair, clad in panties and a shirt you had stolen from your roommate. It was soft and a little faded from its times through the spin cycle, and it was all the better for it.

It’s already 11 in the morning by the time you start making coffee. The smell of the grounds revive you as you measure the portion out, carefully leveling and scooping like it was second nature. You can hear the floorboards creaking, the building settling.

“Cold?” Hobie asks from behind you, though you’re not sure when he snuck up on you during the process of waking up. He moves his arm around your shoulders and gently pulls you to lean on his chest. As far as roommates went, you existed in an odd limbo between roommates, friends, and lovers.

“A bit,” you say, your voice still thick with sleep. You tuck your nose against his arm. His skin is so warm it almost feels like it burns you as you set the coffee to brew.

“You’re lucky I’m so warm,” he murmurs, pressing his mouth to the crown of your head. It sounds like he wants to say something else. That’s the thing with Hobie, he’s always been great at keeping his secrets.

You can feel him smile against your hair, the curve of his lips something between sweet and mischievous. “Or maybe I’m lucky to have you here,” Hobie says, his accent deep and lilting over each word.

You roll your eyes at his affections, your mind snapping back to being kept up late into the night by his recent escapade. “Did that girl you brought home last night already leave?” you ask bluntly, watching the coffee drip into the pot. The fact that he brought a girl home yesterday makes you have a bitter taste on your tongue. But, honestly, you have no right to be upset with him over it.

“Yeah,” Hobie says after a moment’s hesitation, shrugging. The nonchalance he is trying to brush it off with seems practiced. “She was nice…” he trails off, seemingly leaving things out. “Why?”

“Just asking,” you say, still watching the drip drip drip of the coffee maker, “or you wouldn’t be out here sucking up all my warmth.” A last ditch effort to try and lighten the mood to save the morning.

He scoffs and tries to sound indignant, “Like I’d want to suck up your warmth.” But he’s smiling and still keeping your shoulders trapped against his chest.

“Mhm, whatever you say,” you murmur, idly tidying the kitchen counter in front of you as you wait for enough coffee to brew. Hobie shifts, pressing his own cold nose to the back of your neck.

The warmth of your body against his and the feeling of Hobie’s lips and nose on the back of your neck sends a chill up your spine. Even if neither of you admit it, you both know that you mean more to one another than just roommates or even friends. It’s in the way he holds you, always with a sense of gentle ownership and care. When Hobie is around, he wants to keep you safe and warm, and you love to let him.

You almost melt into Hobie’s touch, but the memory of running into that girl from whatever concert he went to comes back. She was in the bathroom you shared, using your makeup wipes and expensive lotion. You manage not to stiffen in his embrace, but you start to shift to execute your morning activities as though Hobie isn’t hanging off of you like a human sized backpack.

As you look for your coffee mug in the pile of clean dishes, Hobie’s free hand moves to gently tuck some of your hair behind your ear and stroke your back. It’s a gesture of comfort and affection, so natural that sometimes you wonder if Hobie even considers what he’s doing. You feel the tension in your muscles ease and relax despite your best efforts. You can’t stay angry with him, he’s allowed to flirt, allowed to sleep with whoever he wants. You aren’t in a relationship. You should want him to find someone, to be happy, but the idea of it makes your heart ache.

You huff out a breath through your nose, frustrated by your own train of thought. You look at the clock on the stove, it’s already approaching noon. Some days being Hobie’s roommate was harder than others, and today is already shaping up to be one of those days that hurts.

Hobie kisses the back of your neck softly and leans even closer to you, adjusting so his chin is on your shoulder and his cheek is against your hair. The feeling of his skin against the curve of your shoulder is like a warm and soothing balm—but it also makes your stomach twist with disappointment.

Guilt washes over you even though it has no reason to. You want to turn around and look at him, you want to feel his even gaze burn into you. You want to tell him everything you desire—everything you need. But your voice is stuck in your throat.

Not to mention, he doesn’t even know you want it. The wall between your rooms is thin, you’ve heard countless “I don’t want anything serious”, “just was messing around”, “no labels” conversations that Hobie has had with the women and men he brings to his bed. Sometimes you want to go talk to them on their way out to commiserate in the heartbreak.

Your heart lurches as Hobie’s words run through your head. All the time you’ve lived together, how many times has he said that speech to someone? You want to deny it, to tell yourself that what he tells them is different than how he feels about you and what you’ve done together. But you heard it with your own ears.

You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to push away the feeling that he means it. He means it every time.

“What are your plans for today?” you ask, realizing that you and Hobie have just been in silence for the past five minutes.

Hobie looks up at you, you can see a slight weariness in his eyes at your question. It’s moments like this that you think this is it. Time to ask or just drop it and move on. His eyes fix on yours and you can tell he’s searching for something to say.

“Nothing really,” he says, shrugging. “I was probably just gonna stay in. Read.”

You extract yourself from Hobie’s arms, moving to the dishes you had left in the kitchen sink last night. You start to run the water, waiting for it to warm as it flows over your fingers. “Are you finally gonna read the book I loaned to you a few months ago?” you ask, he moves to stand beside you.

Hobie’s eyes harden with slight annoyance, but he takes a moment to respond. “Not yet,” he murmurs. His voice is cautious and even lower than usual. He doesn’t like conflict, nor does he like the feeling of being cornered—especially not by you.

“What are you up to later?” he asks, giving up on that path of conversation. It was a safe move, a way to distance himself and avoid any possibility of a serious discussion. He’s good at this sort of thing. Hobie has always been difficult to catch.

“Do you remember what day it is?” you ask, any hope that Hobie actually knows what day it is dissipating quickly. Your hands are soapy as you vigorously clean the bowl in the sink. You have cleaned it twice already, but you need something to do with your hands.

Hobie sighs at your question, making you deflate even further. “Yeah, I’m not an idiot,” he snaps. It takes him everything to keep his tone somewhat even and measured. There seems to be something in his words, some hint of frustration that you suspect has to do with you.

“But—look, I’m sorry, but I told you I wasn’t looking for…”

“It’s my birthday, Hobie,” you snap, “not some stupid fucking anniversary of us moving in together or something.” The anger comes out of you like a whip. You had to interrupt him, he knows that you would never bring that up, not again.

Your words cut through him like a red-hot knife. “I—“ he starts to say, his voice gentle once more. Hobie reaches out to you before catching himself. You can see the apology on his tongue and the regret in his eyes. It’s in there, barely peeking over the surface. There’s something he wants to tell you, you know there is, but he’s afraid he can’t make the choice.

“Yeah… figured you forgot,” you say, your voice small. “Well, my friends from school are throwing me a party tonight, at Club Wolf. You’re invited if you want to come, but I know it’s not your thing.”

“You know I’m not great with crowds,” Hobie says, his tone light and joking. You hear the desperation in it. He doesn’t want to go, but he doesn’t want to disappoint you. You bite your tongue, wanting to remind him that he is fine with crowds, just not nightclubs with dance music.

“But,” he says a second later, “I wouldn’t miss your birthday party for the world.” The lightness in his voice disappears as he offers a lopsided smile to you. Maybe a genuine smile. Maybe.

You glance at him over your shoulder, surprise coloring your face. You rinse the bowl you had made your own birthday cake in last night and set it on the rack to dry. “Well, just see how you’re feeling later. It starts at 9.” Hobie has made promises to show up before, you’re not going to hold your breath this time.

You turn to pull the cake out of the fridge and find the tubs of frosting you bought in the pantry. You set the cake on the kitchen table, pausing to wonder if baking and decorating your own birthday cake is sad. What does it matter anyways?

“I mean it,” he whispers softly. “I’ll be there, I promise.” He sounds sincere—or maybe that’s just what you want to hear. You feel yourself wanting to believe him. You know you shouldn’t, but deep down you hope you can.

His head dips to the side, his eyes scanning you warmly up and down in a familiar way. His gravity defying wicks move with him as he tilts. You always forget how beautiful Hobie is when he looks at you like that. You can’t blame him for anything right now.

“Okay.” You look at him briefly before turning back to the cake. Hobie is too beautiful to look at directly in the morning light, it felt almost like staring into the sun.

You dump globs of white frosting onto the cold sponge, spreading it smooth with a spatula. Hobie’s eyes study your measured movements. It takes you ten minutes to lopsidedly frost the cake, but you manage.

You move to the cabinet to search for the sprinkles you’d bought ages ago. Hobie moves behind you and watches your search, his gaze taking in both your back and profile in the reflection of the glass cabinet door. His focus remains on you for a moment before he breathes softly.

“I don’t want to go,” he mumbles, just barely loud enough for you to hear. He’s nervous. He’d be lying if he says he isn’t. The party means a lot to you and he doesn’t want to have to mess up the evening; or worse, ruin it completely,

“You don’t have to,” you say, your heart twisting in its disappointment. “I wasn’t expecting you to.”

“But… I want to for you,” Hobie says even quieter, you almost don’t understand him. He presses up against you again, arms wrapping around your middle. His body is warm and his breath is hot against your skin, making you shiver for a moment.

You feel a hesitation from him, like Hobie wants you to turn and face him and ask him for more. It’s like he’s waiting for you to say it, to validate and confirm things that he knows in his heart —and you do too.

But you can’t do it, you have put yourself out on that ledge before only to get struck down. It took you a long time to get back to this level of comfort with Hobie, dancing between friendship and something more. Unfortunately, you prefer being stuck in limbo than not having Hobie in your life at all.

You have to stretch on your tiptoes to reach the sprinkles on the top shelf. Hobie must have moved them while hunting for the stale candy bars that lived in the back of the cabinet.

Hobie chuckles and puts his hands on your waist, pushing gently until you put your heels back on the floor. You look back at him, seeing him smile the kind of smile that is sweet and soft and more genuine than anything you have seen in a long time.

“Here.” He hands the sprinkles to you. You have to stop yourself from melting into his arms.

You look away from his smile, your heart aching at the sight of it. “Thank you,” you murmur, clutching the plastic container tightly in your fist. The sprinkles are shiny spheres in your favorite colors: purple and pink. You have always been a sharp contrast to Hobie’s riot of blues and reds paired always with black.

“Anything for you,” he murmurs, his voice sweet and gentle. You can feel his gaze lingering on the sprinkles in your hand for a moment longer before he looks up at you again.

“I’ll see you tonight?” he asks, not bothering to hide his trepidation anymore. You can see his worry, the way his eyes keep straying to your neck, your hands, your face. Hobie seems afraid he’ll scare you away. You know he means more than just the party.

“Yeah, you’ll see me.” You offer him a half smile as you turn away from the press of his hand on your hip and to the frosted cake, perfectly white and crisp. You dump the sprinkles unceremoniously on top, tarnishing the pristine finish as you press them in to stick on the sides and top. The sprinkles spill over the edges of the plate, getting stuck in the nooks of the table settings.

“I’ll hold you to that,” he whispers, his eyes soft and searching when he approaches your side. That look is always enough to send your heart racing. You’re afraid you’ll do something wrong, something stupid that will push him away.

He places a hand on the table and leans in close, careful not to disturb the cake. “Are you sure you don’t need anything else?” Hobie’s small, gentle smile breaks through again and, for a moment, the world stands still.

You’re scared to move, to send this house of cards crashing to the ground. That’s how Hobie and you always feel—like a balancing act. At times he is cloyingly sweet and stuck deep between your molars, but he can turn in a flash to something bitter and sour.

“I can’t eat this whole cake by myself,” you finally say after a moment’s hesitation. Hopefully it is a wise choice.

Hobie smiles even wider at your response. “No,” he says, “no you can’t.” He reaches out for the sprinkles, his hand almost touching yours before stopping. The electricity that builds between the two of you feels tangible for a split second. The touches that Hobie finds intimate are so minor compared to those that he doesn’t. Holding hands and kissing on the mouth are too much, but almost everything else is casual.

His eyes search you again, and you remember all the times you have had this exact moment with Hobie before. You wonder if you’ll get used to it and lose the feeling of intimacy altogether, or if it will always be this way.

“I’ll help you eat it,” he says, finally.

“Perfect, cake for breakfast is a birthday requirement, after all,” you say, turning your gaze away from the intensity. You place the mostly empty container of sprinkles on the table, letting out the breath that has been stuck in your chest.

You look on the counter for the Polaroid camera you like to keep around. You had won it in a raffle in college and used it ever since. “I need to grab my camera, I promised my mom I’d take a picture of it before I cut it,” you say as you pad out of the kitchen with your bare feet. It’s in your room on your desk, you grab it by the strap and return just as quietly as you left. You stand over the cake, careful to get only it in the shot, the cracked porcelain plate and sprinkles strewn across the table completing the imperfect memory.

“You still have that silly camera?” Hobie asks from behind you. His voice is light and his tone is teasing, but you can hear a hint of genuine interest lurking in there as well. You can feel his eyes scanning your body—just for a moment, but you can. That slight shift in his gaze and the way he lingers on your legs almost makes the camera shake in your hands.

“Yeah,” you say, waving the photo a bit so the ink sets. You quietly contemplate how you can take a picture of yourself with the cake without asking Hobie to do it, for some reason that feels too silly. Last year Hobie didn’t even wake up until 4pm, so you had all the time in the world to take self-timer photos over and over again without embarrassment.

“I like the way the pictures turn out,” you explain, flipping the photo on the table over to see the image of the pink and purple cake developing. “They feel like memories from when you were a kid or something.”

“You’re right,” Hobie whispers. You can sense the sincerity in his tone and even see it in his expression. It’s one of those rare moments where all of his walls drop and his emotions break through just beyond that rough exterior he hides himself in.

You look at the photo again, the sprinkles are haphazard and the plate is cracked but it looks cozy rather than imperfect. You can see Hobie’s shadow in it, streaking across the table and intersecting with yours. You pick up the pen that you had left on the table earlier and scribble the date on it along with the number ‘21!’ and a big smiley face.

Hobie’s shadow looms over you as you write. He’s closer than you expected him to be, and there’s something different about him. His warmth has been replaced by something deeper, more vulnerable. There’s a softness in his dark eyes—and a look of almost longing.

You cross your small, cluttered kitchen to set the Polaroid on the countertop. “You don’t need to be in this, but my mom likes to have pictures of me with the cake. She has a whole box of photos of me on my birthday morning.” You peek through the viewfinder to see that the cake is centered, a chair on either side.

You readjust the shirt you are wearing to cover a little bit more of your bare thighs as you set the timer, walking to the nearest chair with sure steps. Your kitchen table is a little crooked and small, the chairs mismatched. “You’ve got ten seconds to figure out what you want to do,” you murmur to Hobie as you try to fix your somewhat tangled hair and plaster a bright smile on your face.

He watches you on the other side of the table, drinking in your form as you prep for the photo. What he wants to do is easy: hold you. Hold you close and make sure you never leave him again. He’d be a fool not to try—and maybe that’s enough to shake him out of the looming fear that holds him back.

But what if you rejected him? His heart sinks just thinking about it. He’s not sure he could handle it, not in a moment like this.

He watches as the counter hits five seconds, not sure what to do.

“You don’t have to linger in the corner like a ghost you know,” you say through your teeth, still holding your smile as you stare into the lens of the camera. Your fingers twist in the soft fabric of the t-shirt in anticipation. You can’t help but wonder what he’s going to do.

Hobie’s eyes scan you again, taking in every detail. The way your hair falls against your collarbone, the way the shirt that belongs to him has started to slip from your shoulder. He leans against the table, resting one hand against the back of your chair.

You can feel his gaze on your neck, on your chin. His presence is warm against your skin as you hear him inhale and exhale. You want him to do something. You need him to.

One second left.

“Hobie?” You ask, your voice pinched as the one second warning beep goes off. He still rests half in and half out of the frame.

That soft word is enough. You feel the electricity between the two of you, that strange and beautiful tension that builds between two people when they are on the verge of something. Hobie’s fingers curl over the back of your chair, bringing himself closer. His eyes never leave your form—just the thought of you is enough to make him tremble.

He leans into you as he sits in the other chair, his breath hot on your cheek. Hobie places his hand on the opposite side of the cake, his shoulder close to yours. “Smile for me,” he mumbles, his voice barely loud enough for you to hear.

Your heart thumps and you can feel your false picture smile twist into something… different. The flash is blinding, the sound of the shutter solidifying the moment in your memories as the camera prints the photo. The apartment is quiet except for your breathing and the sound of the Polaroid printing the photo.

“Thank you, my mom loves getting pictures of me,” you say, your voice a little higher pitched than usual.

Hobie doesn’t say anything as he gets up to pull the photo free from the camera. His gaze scans you again, taking in everything in a moment. His eyes linger on the neckline of your shirt that’s slipped. He returns to where you sit at the table, pressing his lips to the crown of your head. His fingers brush against the top of your arm lightly as he smiles down at the photo. You look beautiful even with your tangled hair and the sprinkle-covered table settings.

“Did it turn out alright?” you ask him, not able to look at it yourself. You can’t acknowledge the permanent memento of whatever malformed relationship you have with Hobie. You stand, slipping out from under his hand as you grab two plates, forks, and a knife.

“Yeah,” Hobie says wistfully, and you can tell that he means it. It’s not the best photograph, but who cares—it’s a memory that he’ll hold onto and cherish for the rest of his life. He’d be a fool not to.

He can’t help himself and he wraps you in a hug, one arm around your waist and the other planted on the counter next to you. He places the photo down in front of you as he pulls you into his embrace.You fit together perfectly. He presses his cheek against your hair and inhales deeply, loving the way you smell.

You inspect the photo, leaning down slightly to see it better. You had worn his only colorful shirts to bed last night, the mustard yellow shape taking up half of the picture, the pink and purple cake between you, and Hobie swathed in dark blue and black. He was looking at you instead of the camera, and even in the photograph you could see the tenderness in his gaze. You were looking straight at the camera, what had originally been your photographic smile twisting into something genuine.

“Can I keep this?” he asks softly, his voice still raspy from sleep and his emotions. He still has a firm grip on you, his arm wrapped around you securely. He wants this moment to last and he’s not quite sure how to make it happen.

He looks down at you, his umber eyes studying every inch of your face. You can feel warmth radiating from him, and the way his body tenses—almost like he’s too nervous to breathe fully.

“Sure,” you say breathily, a little caught off guard. “I just need to grab a picture of it to send to my mom first.” Your heart is thundering in your chest, you’re trying not to think of a million scenarios about the deeper meaning behind him wanting to keep the photograph. You grab for your phone on the edge of the counter, taking a quick photo of the Polaroid before handing it to Hobie.

You can’t help but lean into him as he leans in close to you. He’s so gentle when he holds you, your head fits perfectly against his chest. The sound of his heartbeat is loud in your ears, steady and calming as he rocks you slightly back and forth in a hug. He smiles down at you, his eyes warm but his expression cautious. He’s not sure what to do next and it shows. He looks at the photo in his hands and back at you again.

“You hungry?” you ask, pushing the moment forward. You see his gaze drift down to the picture in his hand. “I can cut you a slice.” You look at him over your shoulder.

Hobie smiles again, but it’s a bit brighter this time. “I’m starving,” he says, his tone light and borderline teasing. He reaches around you, pressing his arms close to your body. You can feel his fingers against the shirt that you still wear, pressing up against your skin. It’s almost too much.

“Well you’ll have to free me if you want me to cut the cake,” you say with a soft laugh. You feel almost lightheaded from the attention. His hands are large, his fingers splayed against the yellow t-shirt and bunching it up slightly.

He laughs before pulling you closer, burying his face in your hair and breathing you in deeply. His fingers slip under the shirt and he presses himself against you again. You’ve never felt so close to someone—and you’ve never felt this vulnerable.

He’d be a fool to ruin the moment, and you’ve never seen a moment more perfect than this. No one ever told you love might feel like this: warm and dizzying, exciting and scary, and almost too good to be true, but here you are.

It still feels too good to be true, there is still the underlying anxiety that Hobie will change his mind and remember his no consistency no labels mentality.

Still, you giggle when you feel his large, calloused hands palm your bare waist and pull you impossibly closer. These are streets you’ve walked before, when Hobie lets himself into your bedroom on nights he comes home alone. You realize that Hobie is the sun, and you think you’ll forever be stuck in his gravitational pull.

That’s what scares you about Hobie. He’s always one breath away from running. He’s made you comfortable and close but not permanent. At the same time, he’s the most welcoming and kind person you’ve ever known and when he touches you—when he holds you close—you feel like you might just be home.

That’s what makes you keep coming back, too. You’ve never felt this comfortable or welcomed before and you’d kill for it to not be a dream.

“Are you just going to hold me against the kitchen counter all day?” you ask, your tone light. You manage to keep your secret inside, the fear that once this moment ends you won’t get another one looming in the back of your mind. You think back to the birthday picture, the messy cake on the table. The impending party your friends were throwing on the horizon.

Your mom told you the first time she met Hobie after you decided to be roommates that you would fall in love with this boy, and she was right.

Hobie’s smile falters slightly at your words. He’s not sure he’ll ever want this moment to end. Holding you and seeing your face—even if you’re not looking at him—is all he really wants to do.

“Maybe,” he says, his tone light as he pulls you closer and pushes your hips against the counter. His hands are still under my shirt, warm against your soft stomach. Maybe this moment is all he wants too.

But then, he takes a deep breath and smiles and the tension eases out of him a tiny bit.

“C’mon, you won’t deny sharing cake with the birthday girl, will you?” you say softly, leaning back into him to feel his strength.

“I wouldn’t deny you anything if I could help it,” he murmurs, almost under his breath. His fingers dig into you, holding you close in case he loses you forever. He presses his lips against your hair again and inhales deeply.

The world around you fades, every worry erased, replaced by the sensation of Hobie’s breath against your skin. Even if the moment ends, you’ll hold it close like the Polaroid he’ll soon keep in his wallet.

He moves first, releasing your waist slowly, letting the stolen shirt fall back down over your hips. You bracelet his wrist with your fingers, pulling him to the small kitchen table. You stand to cut the cake, plating you both thick slices. Your fingers are sticky with the excess frosting and sprinkles and crumbs. You take a measured risk and lick the knife clean.

“Do you want tea or coffee?” you ask, it wouldn’t be hard to put the kettle on.

“I’d love some tea,” Hobie says as he takes a seat at the table. He watches you with a soft smile as you cut the cake, your fingers sticky with frosting. The icing streaks your face from nose to cheek and he can’t help but smile. This is one of the many reasons he believes he’s falling in love with you.

“You’re so messy,” he chuckles. “Let me get a napkin.” His eyes scan over your form before he averts his gaze. You have no idea just how much your messiness makes him swoon.

“Did I get something on my face?” you ask, trying to brush it away and only succeeding on getting more frosting smeared onto your cheek. You watch Hobie’s lanky form retreat, smiling and shaking your head as you lick your fingers clean.

“Oh yeah,” he says, his tone amused and loving, “you’re just covered is all.”

“Here,” he says, a napkin in-hand, “let me get that.” He dabs the frosting gently away with the napkin, his fingers brushing against your skin. He catches your eyes for just a moment when he does, but he quickly averts his gaze.

“You must think I’m ridiculous,” you say with a giggle when you see just how much frosting he wipes off your face. There is a soft blush on your cheeks as you put the kettle on before pouring yourself a cup of coffee. The mug you use is lumpy, one of the only things that survived the kiln from the pottery class you took last summer.

You pour him a cup of tea, adding the right amounts of milk and sugar before handing it to him. “You’re not ridiculous at all,” he says, shrugging his shoulders. He smiles again, reaching for his tea and gulping it down. You can tell you’re making him shy.

“You haven’t tried the cake yet,” you murmur as you sit down, a full slice sitting in front of Hobie still.

“Oh, you’re right,” he says, setting down his tea. “I actually forgot to try it.” He reaches for his fork and cuts himself a piece, taking a bite. You can tell he likes it by just how big his smile is.

“Oh my God,” he says, “why didn’t I try this earlier? It’s amazing.”

You smile, your turn to feel bashful as you sit across from him. You’d celebrated 21 birthdays with cake for breakfast, but this one is your favorite by far. “I’ll make you one when your birthday comes around. I can get black sprinkles or something,” you say, your voice holding a hint of vulnerability in it. Of the two of you, you were always doing things to make Hobie’s life easier, be it collecting his laundry or leaving him leftovers for lunch. You’re willing to add baking a birthday cake to the list.

“I hope you do,” he says, his voice soft and sweet. There’s a small light in his eyes, but he averts his gaze quickly. He’s clearly trying to play it cool, and he’s doing a piss poor job of it.

“I can’t wait for mine,” he says, taking another bite of cake. “If this is what your baking is like, I think I’m going to insist we have an early birthday for me.” He grins when he says it, even though you know he’s not joking.

You smile, taking a bite. The pink and purple sprinkles crunch as you chew. “Well, your half birthday is coming up,” you say, a little sheepish that you remember the information so readily. “Maybe I’ll make you one.”

Hobie’s expression softens, his free hand fidgeting with a cloth that is on the table. He takes another bite of his cake to hide how flustered he is.

“That would be lovely,” he says after a moment. You can see him trying to play it cool, but he can’t stop his eyes from following you. He wants to watch you as you move. He wants to study you. He wants you. He can feel it in his gut.

You take a drink of your bitter coffee to offset the sweetness of the cake. His gaze is almost overwhelming. Even when his eyes trail away, you can feel his presence like a weight on your shoulders that you can never ignore. A blush crawls up over your face and you find yourself looking away, hoping the heat in your face will die down a little bit.

Then you decide against that, your gaze returning directly to meet his and you never want to look away again. His eyes almost melt you. He makes you forget to breathe, but you can deal with breathlessness for a little while.

You’re forced into shyness by the memory of the last time you felt this way, Hobie’s soft, even voice rejecting you filling your ears. You close your parted lips, redirecting your focus to the photo of just the cake with your loopy, girly handwriting beneath it that still sat on the table.

His eyes follow your gaze as you focus on something else and he can’t help but feel a twinge of jealousy. He doesn’t like losing your attention. He leans back in his seat, propping his feet up on the other chair and taking a slow sip of his tea.

You catch his gaze again, and again he averts it. He knows that if he looks at you, it’ll be all over. He’d be pulling you around and pressing his lips down hard as he shows you just how true his feelings are.

You finish your breakfast, and you find the cake cover after digging in one of the cabinets under the counter. You cover it and place it in the fridge, having to squeeze some of Hobie’s beer out of the way to make space. Hobie remains seated, watching you move around the kitchen with his measured gaze.

Your phone ringtone blasts through the silence of the morning, which now was drifting into the afternoon. You jump, rushing for your phone. Your mother’s contact flashes on the screen.

“It’s my mom, she probably just wants to wish me a happy birthday,” you say, looking at Hobie as though you’re asking permission to take the call. You don’t want to ruin the intimacy you had been sharing, fearful you’ll never get it back.

“Yeah,” Hobie says, his voice soft and gentle. “You can take the call.” He knows how important family is to you and he’d hate to keep you from a call with your mother.

He leans back in the chair and takes a final sip of his tea before he sets the mug down. You see his eyes linger on yours for a beat or two before he looks away. He wants you to be happy—he always does. Even if it means he might have to sit in the background.

“Thank you, for the lovely morning,” you murmur, giving him one last look before you hit the ‘answer’ button and go to your room. Your mom is already screaming about the picture Hobie and you had taken. Her shrieks of glee make you giggle as you shut the bedroom door behind you, not without sparing one last look at Hobie as he sat at the kitchen table.

Hobie watches you leave and he fights against everything his body is telling him to do. He’s dying to follow you, to wrap his arms around you and kiss you like he wants to. He’s dying for you to look at him one more time. But he doesn’t.

He fights against his demons instead. He’s always had trouble with commitment and giving himself to someone makes him nervous. It scares him. It worries him.

He doesn’t want to lose you. But he’s terrified of loving you.

The rest of the day progresses without event. You only run into Hobie once in the short trek from the kitchen to his room, mumbling something about how his friend Miles needed his advice. You were watching Twilight to kill the time, something Hobie would have never agreed to do even on your birthday.

The production of getting ready feels monotonous as you shower, do your hair, and apply your makeup. It feels like a fugue state as your favorite playlist fills the silence, you can’t help but wonder if Hobie will bother to show up or not.

By the time your friends come to retrieve you in the Uber, Hobie still hasn’t emerged from his room since your brief run in. You are wearing a dress that glitters when you move, paired with black platform heels and a small black handbag. You let your hair loose down your shoulders in meticulously done beach curls. No matter how much effort you’d put in, it felt like a waste of time when you looked at his closed bedroom door.

“I’m leaving for the club!” you call out to Hobie, waiting momentarily for a response you don’t receive before you shut the front door and rush to the Uber.

Hobie’s on his bed when he hears your voice, his expression darkening. The room’s curtains are shut and all he can hear is the sound of his own breathing. It’s hot in his room and he wishes for a fan. It’s quiet—too quiet.

He wants to follow you, but he can’t. The thought of another step towards commitment makes his head spin. He wants you but he can’t do this, not without being sure. That’s the problem though. He’s never sure of anything aside from the dizzying panic you make him feel.

The club is busy when you arrive, your friends from college having congregated for the event amongst other miscellaneous club goers. You are plied with congratulations and shots upon arrival, along with a silver sash that says ‘Birthday Girl’ in looping script. You nearly cry, the effort and love you feel overwhelming you a bit as your friends place the sash over your head and adjust it perfectly in place. It’s such a stark contrast from the morning, but still feels less satisfying.

The alcohol lowers your inhibitions and ignites your blood, you feel like you can dance for hours. The club is sweltering and the music is loud. You finally manage to find a lull to escape to the bathroom for a moment, promising your friends that you will make it okay on your own. You hide in a stall, taking a moment to catch your breath. You pull your phone out of your bag hopefully only for it to deflate when you see there’s still nothing from Hobie.

The alcohol lubricates your jumbled thoughts about Hobie as you look at your text thread. The last thing he’d sent you was a photo of the small bar crowd his band had played in front of a few days ago. You bite your glossed lip, teetering on the edge of a decision.

You open your camera app, angling your phone so you can see just enough cleavage down the front of your dress and the toilet is out of the frame. You take a selfie, suddenly realizing you look drunk but you don’t care. You are drunk and it’s your birthday. You consider that to be permission granted as you send it to Hobie, typing ‘miss u’ in all lowercase letters after it.

A notification pops up on Hobie’s phone as he’s lounging in bed, his headphones plugged into his cellphone while he listens to music. He’s not doing anything productive when the notification comes up, his finger tapping along to the rhythm of the song before he unlocks his phone.

A jolt of shock courses through his body, his breath catching in his throat as he sees your photo on his screen. His eyes go wide and he quickly replies, “I miss you too.” His breath catches in his throat and he bites his lower lip.

You squeal audibly when he texts back, thankfully the music and the other women in the bathroom cover the sound. “U do?” you reply, leaning against the wall of the bathroom stall. You look at the photo you had sent him again. God, you look so drunk.

“Of course,” Hobie replies quickly, his pulse quickening at the thought of you being drunk. He loves when you’re a little tipsy—your words get sweeter and your harsh edges get a little smoother.

“How’s the party? Missing you right back.” He looks at your photo with a little jolt of lust. You might look drunk in the picture, but you look hot. Your hair is mussed and your eyes are glassy and unfocused as you pout softly at the camera.

“Club’s not the same wirhout u.” You type, not even noticing the misspelling. You hit send, knowing you really only have a few more minutes before your friends come to find you. A birthday girl can’t leave her party for long.

He’s not expecting you to text back so quickly and as the notification chimes in his phone, he sits up in bed to look at it. He has to resist the urge to text you again in fear of being too clingy. In his eyes, he’s already a little too clingy.

He decides to wait for another notification. You might have just said the club is boring without him, but you at least sent this message. Your words and that picture of you will have to be enough for him tonight.

He stares at his phone for the next few minutes.

Your friends come to collect you, making you forget about the moment for a little. They call your name as they enter the bathroom, yelling something about how your song is being played and you are desperately needed on the dance floor.

Twenty minutes pass before you think about Hobie again. You were handed a shot of Jäegermeister—your favorite and Hobie’s worst nightmare. You decide to take a video as you take it. Normally, you would rather die than record yourself in public but liquid courage courses through your veins. The lights are pulsing around you, the sequins on your dress lighting up as you raise the shot glass to the selfie camera and knock the shot back.

You watch the video loop as you contemplate it. Your cheeks are flushed, makeup is a bit messy, and you shine with sweat. But, fuck it. You send it to Hobie anyways, typing a quick ‘cheers 💕’ to accompany it.

You can tell that Hobie’s not doing much of anything because he responds within half a minute of you sending your text, his fingers typing up quite a long message for Hobie.

“God, you’re so cute.” He stares at it for a bit, watching the video on loop before he texts back again. “Also, that dress is gorgeous on you. Can I see it up close?” It feels scandalous the way he texts so forwardly to you, you rarely communicated your desires to one another.

You blush when you read the text, the alcohol and Hobie’s implication making your head spin. “Tried to catch u before I left the apartmenr :('' you send back, again littered with errors. You think about how you called out to him as you left, not getting a response or a goodbye.

“Wish you did,” he replies. Hobie smiles and he takes another look at your photo. Your dress clings to you in just the right places and your makeup is smudged in the perfect way.

“I love your hair like that,” he texts before he takes a breath and adds, “and the way you look at me makes my breath stop. I want to kiss you so bad, but I can’t.”

You can’t hold your excitement at his text, getting the attention of those with you. Your friends notice, the girls looking over your shoulder at the thread. One confiscates your phone, typing before hitting send without showing you the message.

You look at your phone when she gives it back. “Club Wolf, come get her. We want to make sure she gets home safe,” your friend had sent. You roll your eyes, knowing that you were nowhere close to being wasted enough for Hobie to have to come save you.

Hobie doesn’t hesitate to respond to your friend’s text. “I’ll be right there.”

“Oh my god!” you screech when you get the text back, grabbing your friend’s shoulder with excitement. She takes your phone for the rest of the night, putting it in her bra. After a few moments you let it go, getting convinced to dance with them more as one of your favorite songs starts to blare through the speakers.

Once he’s up and dressed, he downs a few shots for courage before he takes off towards the club. When he gets there, he takes a moment to stand outside the building as he takes a deep breath; his heart’s in his throat, his palms are sweaty. He’s here for you. He knows that. But he’s also going to have to face the fact that he dropped everything to run to your aid.

“Let me buy you a drink?” a random man that had come along to meet some of your friends asks you. In your state you eagerly agree, assuming he is being kind to the guest of honor. You follow him to the bar, scanning the room to see if Hobie had showed up yet. You order another of your favorite drinks and sip on it while chatting idly with the man. He’s decent, but you’re not paying much attention to the conversation as you sip your drink and look around the club.

Hobie walks through the club, his eyes darting around. When he sees you with the random guy, he frowns before he forces himself to push forward. He’s only slightly jealous. You don’t owe him anything. He just knows that he doesn’t want you with anyone else.

He pushes past a wall of people before finally reaching you. He taps the other guy on the shoulder before gently grabbing you by the elbow and pulling you away from him. He doesn’t say a word to the guy, only glaring at him before he leads you away.

“Hobie!” you exclaim as his hand closes around your elbow, already completely forgetting about the random man. The liquid swirls in your glass as you go up on your tiptoes to loop an arm around his neck and pull him into a hug. You have to do that even in heels.

“I didn’t think you were gonna come,” you say, your voice slightly slurring as you release him. You take another sip of the drink, wiping a bit of the alcohol off the corner of your lips with your thumb and licking it off.

“I couldn’t resist,” he replies, hugging you close and planting a kiss on your cheek. One hand finds its way onto your hip as the other reaches up towards your hair, fingers running through the ends of your hair—he just had to touch it. It seems like a crime to keep your hair so far away from him.

“I almost didn’t go in because I saw you here with this guy.” He gestures to the random man you were just talking with and his lips curl up in a scowl.

You frown for a moment. “Screw that guy,” you say loudly, the alcohol letting all your feelings simmer just under the surface. You can feel your friends watching like hawks. You look Hobie up and down, realizing that he was dressed in black on black on black. But he looked good, he’d put on chains and his chunky silver rings and smudged eyeliner around his eyes in the way you liked. His leather vest settled nicely on his shoulders, covered in studs and patches for bands and pins.

Not to mention that his hand on your waist made you feel grounded for the first time since you had shared breakfast together.

His other hand finds your waist, pulling you close to him and his lips fall to your ear. “You look beautiful,” he breathes before he whispers, “and you smell even better.”

His lips skim just above your neck, his mouth breathing warm breath on your skin. He can tell that you like it. The way your head tilts back, the way your eyes flutter closed. He knows you like this. A lot of time spent with one another gave him the upper hand in knowing all of your tells.

“Oh now you’re just being nice because it’s my birthday,” you murmur, blinking up at him sweetly. The light reflected off your dress in different colors, throwing patches of pinks and blues onto Hobie’s body.

He shakes his head, his lips still hovering just above your neck as he whispers, “no, this is just me being truthful.”

Even as he’s saying this, he’s not sure what he’s planning to do. He wants to kiss you, he wants to hold you tight and keep you close to him. But he’s never been so vulnerable. He can’t just take you from the club. He needs to know what you want.

“You smell of vanilla, and jasmine,” he adds, his lips finally finding your skin and kissing it. You shiver when he kisses your neck, the feeling of his lips igniting a fire on your skin. His lip ring is cold as it presses into the delicate skin, but you don’t care.

“I-I used that body wash you like,” you say like an idiot, your voice coming out before you even had the time to process what you were saying. Your free hand found the smooth plane of his shoulder as the other still held your drink. You took another gulp of it in an attempt to calm down.

His hand tightens around your waist, pulling you back into him. His tongue lightly brushes against your skin, exploring the lines of your neck as he kisses you again and again. You sigh into his touches, your hand curling around the back of his neck. Even drunk, you’re careful not to touch his hair.

“I didn’t get to give you a present,” he teases before whispering again, “and I know exactly what you want.” His hands move up from your waist and towards your hair, fingers wrapping around strands of it before he grips it tightly and plants his mouth on yours.

You gasp initially, melting into his arms. You nearly drop the glass you’re holding, but somehow Hobie has the good sense to pull it from your hand and place it on a table next to him; his lips never leaving yours. Your eyes slip closed as your fingers wrap around the collar of his vest and you pull him close to you. Hobie tastes like peppermint and a hint of rum, which makes you want him more.

You can feel his grip tighten, Hobie desperate for you; desperate to have your touch. His tongue dances as he kisses you with all the passion and love he’s thought about giving you. Your hands grip him and push him closer into you, your body pressed so tightly against his that you can’t tell where he ends and you begin.

His breath is warm on your lips as he continues, trying to kiss you harder as if he can transfer the feelings that are growing inside of him onto your body. He only wants you.

You can hear your friends cheering over the club music as you part, your lipgloss is smeared onto his lips. You laugh, wiping away the sticky substance with your thumb. “Can you take me home, Hobie?” you ask softly, still holding him close with your other hand.

Hobie’s breath catches in his throat as he hears your friends cheering you both on and he looks over his shoulder with a sheepish smile before he turns back to glance at you.

For as shy as he is with your friends, he’s not afraid to stare at you. Your eyes look like they’re almost glowing beneath the lights of the club as you ask him to take you home. He nods without hesitation. Nothing could stop him from spending time with you tonight. Nothing should.

Your friend hands you your phone back as you lace fingers with Hobie. So many firsts in one night, for all the times you’d slept together in the past you had never kissed or held hands. He tugs you gently out of the club as you pound the rest of my drink and leave it on the bar.

The night air is cool and brisk, but it still isn’t enough to sober you up completely. Thankfully it’s a short walk. You kick off your heels, your feet pressing against the dirty pavement. You had put on stockings under your dress to beat the cold, so they provide a thin barrier but nothing that actually will keep you clean. You are a bit of a messy person anyway, Hobie knew that.

Hobie’s mind is racing as he walks out of the club with you, your fingers looped with his own. He’s trying to decide what to say and do as he walks beside you. He can see you kicking off your heels and stepping on the cold pavement with your barely covered feet; a part of him wants to tell you to be careful, but he doesn’t, he can’t. He's too deep in his mind, he’s past the point of making rational decisions. He’s too far gone.

Hobie guides you back to the apartment, walking at a slower pace so you can keep up. “Wow, no telling me to be careful?” you tease softly as you walk, the breeze whipping your hair and dress around. You’re on cloud nine, the feeling of Hobie’s fingers laced with yours feeling like victory.

He bites his lip to stop himself from telling you to be careful; he wants, no, he desires to tell you how much he cares for you. He wants to say all the words that are dancing on his tongue. The words he’s been dying to say to you.

He wants this moment to never end. He just wants to stand right here, right beside you, with your fingers laced into his.

But he doesn’t do anything. He’s scared, scared he’ll mess something up. Scared that you don’t see him that way.

“Hobie,” you whine softly, recognizing that look on his face as he spirals into his thoughts. You stop walking, even when he softly tugs your hand. He turns to you, his brow furrowed in confusion.

You reach up, tapping your fingertips in the center of his forehead. “You’re stuck up here, come be with me,” you whisper, your words slurring a touch as you do.

His heart skips a beat when you tap your fingers to the center of his forehead. You might as well have just hit him with a defibrillator, Hobie’s entire body jolts with surprise.

He looks down at you with eyes wide. It takes him a moment to process what’s just happened. “Huh?” he asks, his voice barely more than a hushed whisper. He feels like he’s on a bad first date; he has no idea what the right move is and is almost afraid to make any move at all.

You smile at his confusion. “Good, you’re back.” You start walking again, this time you take the lead as you zigzag drunkenly to your apartment. Your black strappy heels dangle from the hand that isn’t holding Hobie’s. “You haven’t said a word since you whisked me away from the club,” you say, looking at him over your shoulder momentarily before continuing to walk. Your feet were starting to feel the cold.

“I… uh…” Hobie takes a long, deep breath before he continues, “I don’t know if I should say anything.”

He glances down at your bare feet and frowns. “Your feet are going to be cold,” he mumbles before he looks up at you again. “Should I say anything?” He asks again, “Or… should I keep my mouth shut?”

You have no idea how much he’s dying to say something to you. He’s so close, he’s practically begging you to give him the push.

“Hobie, I never want you to keep your mouth shut,” you say, stating it as if it’s an obvious fact. You can see your building approaching at the end of the block.

His angular features bloom with surprise at your answer and he can barely hold in the smile that’s trying to break out on his face. “Okay… okay good. Glad to hear it.” He swallows in lieu of saying anything else.

Your apartment is so close, he’s tempted to rush to get there. He’s trying to distract himself by finding something else to talk about. Anything else but his own feelings.

“Where’d you get that dress? It’s beautiful on you.”

You snort softly, “you don’t remember? We went shopping together. You bought your Dead Kennedys patch that day.” You look up at Hobie’s face, still walking a little ahead of him. You hope your eyes convey what you’re wanting them to, the alcohol still feels like it’s setting you on fire.

Hobie is about to say yes, he remembers without even recalling the memory before he remembers what happened that day a few weeks ago. It feels like something out of a dream, a distant fantasy. He remembers having you pressed into the corner of the dressing room with a hand over your mouth, but not the dress you bought.

His eyes dip to study the pavement, his voice slightly deeper than it usually is. “I remember.”

He can’t help it. The thoughts have been brewing in his gut, making his stomach ache like a sore tooth. He’s sick of waiting and wants to just get over it.

“I’m in love with you,” he tells you, his voice barely above a whisper.

His voice is almost quieter than the wind, but you hear it. You nearly stumble before turning to face Hobie. The excitement is there, your heart feels like it’s leaping out of your chest. Your brain short circuits as it processes what he said, not sure what to do with the information. You finally manage to spit out: “I’m in love with you, too.” Albeit you’re much louder than he is.

Hobie looks almost overwhelmed by your response and he opens his mouth to say something and closes it again. His heart skips a beat and the words that were about to cross his lips are long lost to the wind.

“You’re in love with me?” he asks, his voice still barely above a whisper, “like… in love with me?”

“Yeah, Hobie. Wasn’t it obvious?” you say, fidgeting with the heels you were still carrying.

He’s silent for a moment, trying to take in what you’re saying. “No,” he responds, “it- it wasn’t.”

“I just—“ he starts before he shakes his head. Words are failing him and it’s getting on his nerves. He doesn’t want to say anything stupid.

He clears his throat and tries again. “Look, this is going to sound dumb, and I’m only asking because I have to know…” he pauses and swallows, his eyes trained and focused on yours, “… can I kiss you?”

“Didn’t you kiss me already… at the club? As my birthday present?” you ask in a teasing tone, stepping closer to Hobie on the sidewalk. His sweet nature makes you smile widely. Your feet are borderline hypothermic but you don’t care, you won’t dare ruin this moment.

It takes all of his willpower to not lean forward and press his lips to yours. He can feel his heart thumping hard in his chest, like it’s fighting to tear itself out of his ribcage, desperate for freedom.

“I want to kiss you again. Just one more time. Just for me.” He looks at you with pleading eyes, trying to tell you with a look what he’s unable to in words.

“Well it better not be our last time kissing, Hobie Brown,” you say, reaching up and curling your hand around the collar of his shirt. Where he is shy, the alcohol in your system makes you bold. You yank him down, stretching on your frozen tiptoes to press your lips to his.

Hobie’s body jolts in surprise but it doesn’t stop him from leaning into the kiss. He wraps his arms around your back and presses closer to you, his body shivering in response.

Your lips are cold, but they send sparks through his entire body, causing his fingers to clench around you with a strength he didn’t know he had. His lips move against yours with passion, he’s unable to control himself. It’s you. It’s always been you for him.

You pull away after a few moments, grinning at him. “Now can we get back to the apartment before they have to amputate my feet due to hypothermia?” you ask, “I promise there’s more kisses for you there.” Your gaze flickers over his face. You feel electric, the song and dance you two have done for the past years settling into something new.

Hobie smiles back at you before he glances down at your feet. The skin looks like it could be frost bitten and numb already.

“We really should get you inside,” he says, “you can warm up your cheeks and feet.”

He turns and starts walking forward, but then he pauses again and turns to face you. His eyes drift down to your lips before he leans toward you once again, but this time it’s not a slow, romantic kiss—it’s a desperate one. And he’s not stopping at your lips.

“Hobie!” you exclaim as he kisses from your lips down your neck all the way to your collarbone. “Now if I freeze out here on my birthday I’m blaming you!”

"I take responsibility," he breathes against your neck before he plants kisses along your shoulder, "because this will be the best birthday you've ever had." His hands travel along your hips before he gently pulls you into him.

Your body is finally warmed by the heat of his lips and he holds you, his fingertips tracing the curve of your hip and lower back. He's so lost in the moment he nearly forgets to breathe.

"It's all I want for you," he tells you again and again, his lips moving to your collar bone and throat.

Someone in a car driving by wolf whistles, making you part. You’re shivering as you look at each other as though you were seeing each other for the first time. Your teeth chatter in the wind. When you put on this outfit you had imagined taking a cab home after the party.

Hobie glances over his shoulder at the driver who catcalls you and he rolls his eyes. "Come on," he urges, "your feet can still freeze, let's get you in."

He wraps his arm around you as he walks, his fingertips pressing gently against your skin and trying to warm you up. Your hair whips against you and you can still feel the warmth of his lips on your skin. His other hand rests at your side, close enough for you to take if you wanted.

You do, your other hand holding your shoes as you finally climb the steps to the apartment. Hobie pulls out his keys swiftly and unlocks the door in a fluid motion. The heat from inside makes you sigh contentedly.

He leads you inside, and as soon as the door closes behind you, the cold is gone. A rush of warm air hits you, almost like stepping outside after being on a plane.

He closes the door and locks it behind you. “Thank God,” he mutters, “I was afraid you’d freeze your feet to the sidewalk.” His eyes drift down to your shoes and he sighs. “Go put them in your room.”

He gestures toward the door but doesn’t say another word. Instead, he watches you, his eyes glued to your movements.

Usually, you’re combative when drunk, but something about the affection in his voice makes you listen. You briefly look at yourself in the mirror. You look a little worse for wear, your hair is a little tangled and your makeup is smudged. You wipe some from under your eyes and try to untangle the bigger knots before going back into the living room.

Hobie waits for you in the living room, glancing at the clock on the wall. It’s nearly 2 a.m. and he’s exhausted, but his heart is too full for him to sleep. You come back looking like a drunk mess which would usually make him laugh, but he’s too lost in you.

He’s still staring at you, his dark eyes studying you and finding everything about you that he thinks is beautiful.

“Help me unzip my dress,” you say to him quietly, turning and pulling your hair over your shoulders. You have the soft, stolen t-shirt of his in your hand. You’re aching to put it on.

Hobie doesn’t say a word, he just takes himself over to you, stands behind you, and starts unzipping your dress. The fabric slips down your back, exposing the skin of your shoulders. Your hair drapes over your back, still damp with sweat and alcohol. He takes in your beauty.

He smiles at you again as he pulls the dress down your arms. When he finishes, you stand in nothing but your bra and underwear and he looks a little flushed. “I think you might want something a little warmer,” he says, his tone light and teasing.

You roll your eyes, pulling Hobie’s large t-shirt over your head. Plus it wasn’t like anything under your dress was new to Hobie. “You are such a momma hen,” you say to him, turning around with a smile. The contrast is interesting. There is still glitter all over your body and your hair is still curled as you wore his faded, ratty t-shirt that really should have been tossed.

You’re an absolute mess and he can’t help but stare at you. In that moment he realizes just how hard he falls for you, and for the first time in his life, he’s not afraid to fall.

“You’re drunk,” he says with a chuckle.

“I know,” you say, laughing back. “I probably look like a crazy person.” You run a hand through your hair, getting stuck at a knot, “hopefully you’re still attracted to me.”

His eyes light up when you say that and he shakes his head. “I’m very attracted to you,” he replies, his tone flirtatious and playful.

He reaches out and pulls you into him, embracing you tightly. You feel his warmth through his T-shirt. “I’m more than attracted to you. You’ve taken up residence in my head.” He kisses your cheek before he pulls away, smiling again.

The alcohol is starting to wear off and he’s starting to notice you shiver again. “Come on, let’s get you in bed.”

You nod complacently, surprised when he starts pulling you to his room. All the times you’d slept together in the last had been in your bed. You can’t even remember a time you had been inside his room.

He pauses outside the door and turns to you, his voice quieter than before.

“I need you to know something, and I don’t want you leaving this room until you do.”

He takes a deep breath and steadies himself, you can see how much this moment means to him.

“You’re more than just my roommate.” Your name falls softly from his lips, his accent curling around it like a blanket. His eyes hold yours, almost like he can see your soul. “You’re everything that’s worth fighting for, every day that makes the world better, every beautiful moment, every laugh. You… you are my home.”

You feel too many emotions flood your mind as you look up at him. “God, I wish I wasn’t drunk right now so I could think of something beautiful to say to you,” you say, laughing softly.

“I do love you Hobes, I have for years.”

He smiles at you as you laugh. You look so beautiful, so amazing to him. And you don’t even need to say anything for him to know what you feel.

He pulls you inside his room, closes the door, and sits down on his bed. His hands are on your chin, his fingers tracing the contours of your mouth. Your eyes, your cheeks. He releases you to stand in the center of his bedroom. You are looking around his room, taking in all of the things that make Hobie Hobie. He has two guitars mounted on the wall, there’s some laundry on the floor. His walls are littered with posters and paint and memorabilia, and he has two large bookshelves on the side of this room that are nearly full.

“Come here,” he rasps. “I want to kiss you.” His voice brings you back to the present as you make your way toward him, standing between his legs as he sits on his unmade bed.

He can see the spark of excitement in your eyes as he guides you to stand between his legs. Your face is at the perfect height for him to kiss you again. He lifts your chin and pulls you close. Hobie’s hands travel over your back and shoulders, the backs of his fingers trailing along your skin.

“Close your eyes,” he sighs, his voice hoarse, and his mouth collides with yours, soft, gentle, and eager. He holds you close, embracing you like his life depends on it. You interlock your fingers behind the nape of his neck to ground yourself with touch. The kiss is needier, your teeth knocking with his on occasion as his nose presses along yours. The ring through his nostril is cold, tickling you occasionally.

“God, I love you so much,” he says into you. The few shots of alcohol have worn off and the words spill out of him so quickly.

The glitter shimmers on your skin and the light from his lamp caresses your body. Hobie breaks the kiss and gazes at you, his lips still tasting like yours.

You open your eyes as he pulls away, a smile blooming on your face. The alcohol is still strong in you; if anything, its warmth has worn off but the buzzing in your head still continues. You nuzzle into his neck, pressing your cold nose to his skin. “I love you, Hobie.”

He runs his fingers along your arm, his touch gentle and loving. He leans back and looks at you as he rests his weight on his hands.

“Can I ask you something?” He raises a brow, “and I mean really ask you something?” He sounds nervous, anxious.

“Yeah,” you say, biting the inside of your cheek at the tone of his voice. You feel your brows knit together in concern as you look up at him, my ears still ringing from the nightclub.

“What are we?” He looks at you, still nervous but determined. You may have had some drinks but your eyes are bright and focused on him.

“Like—“ he swallows back the lump in his throat before he speaks again. “What are we doing? Are we friends? Are we something more? Are we even in this at all?” He laughs nervously, looking away.

“You’ve gotta be the one to make that choice, Hobie,” you say softly, your brows still pinched together as you look at him. “The last time this happened…” tears well in your eyes as you think about it, the alcohol bringing the emotions to the surface. “You shut me down. Said you didn’t like labels or consistency. So now you have to choose.”

Hobie swallows hard as your eyes well up with tears. You look so beautiful in that moment, the alcohol on your skin sparkling in the light from the bedside lamp.

Hobie hooks his hands under the backs of your knees and pulls you to his lap in a surprising show of strength. His calloused fingers wipe your tears away, and part of you knows if your makeup wasn’t ruined before it definitely is now. “If you’re gonna break my heart, you may as well do it now,” you whisper, laughing softly through the tears. The ridiculousness of the situation gets to you.

Hobie laughs aloud, relieved to see you laugh. “Darling, there’s no way in hell I could ever break your heart.”

He looks at you, his eyes holding yours, his fingertips caressing your skin. “I’m in love with you.” His eyes dance with moonlight slotting through his window. “I can’t promise you the world. What I can promise you is that when I walk out the door, I’ll come back to you, because you’re home to me.”

“Promise?” you whisper, holding up your pinky for him to take. Pinky promises are stupid, but you are a strong believer in them. Hobie knows that.

Hobie chuckles and he holds up his pinky, intertwining his finger with yours. His hands are rough from playing the guitar, but his touch is soft and gentle right now.

"I promise."

He pulls you into him, his arms wrapped around your body. "No matter what, I’ll find my way back to you. You’re everything that I’ve ever wanted and... you make me happy."

You bury your face in his chest, nodding as my fingers tangle in the ripped shirt Hobie wore. He smells so comforting, like sandalwood and cinnamon. You fit together perfectly, your bodies curved together and your cheeks flushed from the alcohol.

He rests his head atop yours, his arms still curled around you. The two of you sit on the bed, and he can feel the warmth of your body spread through his fingers.

You try to stifle a small yawn, hoping Hobie didn’t hear it. You just wanted to keep talking with him. This all felt like a dream, you being in his room, in his bed. You worry that tomorrow you’ll wake up and you will go back to being roommates like none of this ever happened.

“Oh, I felt that yawn,” he murmurs, his voice sleepy. “C’mon, you can tell me everything tomorrow.”

He tucks his arms around you again and shifts his weight, rolling you to him so he’s now in the big spoon position.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“Goodnight,” you hear him whisper your name softly as you drift off.

He’s content to just hold you in his bed all night. As you sleep, his breathing softens and his hand rests on your hip.

#hobie brown x reader #atsv hobie #hobie brown #across the spiderverse #spider man: across the spider verse #hobie brown fanfiction #reader insert #afab reader #hobie brown x you #modern au #atsv fanfiction #spider punk #hobie brown fluff #hobie brown x fem!reader

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bugs1nmybrain · 2 months

Text

Fem!L Lawliet x Fem!Reader Headcanons

i, myself, have chosen violence

Warnings: wlw/lesbian relationship, fem L w/ female anatomy, autistic L headcanons, some of these apply to canon L, too,, mentions of periods, nsfw+ (18+), subject to receiving a pt. 2

Minors Don't Interact

L would be 5'5" (and a half!). I average this by the fact that for many countries, the average female height is about 5 inches shorter than the male height. L is 5'10 (and a half!) for reference

About a B cup in the chest and has noticeable hips in comparison to how small her waist is, but she's still very slim like Canon L is

She's very frail feeling but her hugs feel nice

soft skin and still has spidery fingers, but smaller and more delicate

her hair is thicker and wavier than Canon L's

sometimes paints her toenails and fingernails but not often

Distant and very introverted. Will likely go hours or days before she speaks to you at first, but she's secretly testing how you react to her indifference

She'll likely approach you first, though, with strong af eye contact

Will ask a bizarre and invasive question. "Is your birthday in *insert your birth month?" "how'd you know??" "I could just tell."

Is surprisingly invasive and clingy. When she likes you she'll follow you around like a cat

And if you somehow have left her while she was unaware, she's right on the cameras looking for you

She'll ask you on cute dates, like out to themed restaurants and bakeries. She'll go shopping with you, but will mostly just spoil you because she wears the same clothes every day

Doesn't like how makeup feels but she'll let you do some mascara on her if you want

She already has her own natural eyeshadow going on lmao

Flirtatious once you've been together for a while, and will blatantly embarrass you and make you flustered because she loves seeing it!!

Liar liar plants for hire

Just as much of a liar as canon L. She'll likely use her girlish charm to her advantage when the situation allows her to

She's what I'd consider a bittersweet liar. She'll deny any grudges that she holds towards you even if she has a list going. "Why would I think that?"

But she also lies "for your own good." She'll lie to you about your abilities to boost your confidence and (she hopes) your efficiency, even if you're bad at what you're doing. She also withholds information that she knows will upset you

She's not emotional herself and is just as blunted as canon L, but she's prone to blushing when she thinks you're especially cute

She is emotionally intuitive, though. She can sense the slightest disturbance in your mood and will likely ask about it

Becomes your personal therapist unintentionally (it is intentional. Everything with L is intentional)

Fem L is gender ambiguous to an extent, because she has what some may consider a "masculine" demeanor.

She has a deep monotone voice and would probably be a low alto if she sang. Could reach tenor notes. Her voice has a sing-song undertone to it, even with it being monotone. Canon dub L, pretty much, just a tiny bit higher

She's actually quite affectionate when she's comfortable with you, but prefers to come to you rather than the other way around. Likes hand holding and playing with your hair

If you ask her for physical affection she'll likely say yes, she just doesn't like sudden touches. Will give you a death stare if you touch her with no warning, but because it's you she'll let it slide with a reminder "please ask next time."

has the softest lips you'll ever know

Uses pet names, endearing ones like "love," "darling," and "sweetheart." I hc canon L doing this, too, but I think fem L would be a bit more generous about it

Her personality isn't very different than canon L's

Likes baggy clothes that fit comfortably and lends her clothes if you'd like!! She wears loose sports bras if she's out of the house because cup bras are very uncomfortable for her. Inside she's almost always braless, though.

Her periods are a breeze for her because she's always on top of the ibuprofen and knows exactly when it's going to start. She may even be on birth control solely for period management because her work cannot risk sitting in bed from excruciating pain

nsfw time

checks you out when you're not looking and finds herself looking at your ass a lot, but she loves your breasts just as equally

she can get very wet accidentally because if she's not working or she's doing a tedious task she finds herself daydreaming about you

she feels very smooth and soft, but also firm

adores eating you out and fingering you because she feels so much pride from making you cum, though she'd never admit it

Praise kink!!

Definitely a soft dom

Communicates effectively during sex, especially those first few times

she's touched herself so she knows where and how to pleasure you, but will still ask you what you enjoy if you know. "What parts of your body are the most sensitive, darling?"

Loves using dildos to penetrate you, too. She also likes you doing the same to her

This is so out of pocket, but I think she has a little bit of lip happening down there

Doesn't shave constantly but maybe every now and then

She's so good at making you horny, and will do it subtly, too. She engages in "foreplay incognito." She'll touch you throughout the day, give you compliments, look at you softer, and then once you actually start making love it feels amazing

A tiny bit of a romantic, I blame it on her Italian side (i'm Italian too leave me be)

chivalry is not dead

secretly wears cute panties!!

(loves if you do, too. But watch out, because she WILL steal them from your dirty laundry)

#l lawliet #l x reader #l lawliet x reader #fem L #fem l lawliet #lesbian L Lawliet #death note fandom #l lawliet headcanons #wlw reader

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boarwinds · 4 months

Note

What can you tell us about the Snowbaird kids in your First Lady AU?

Glad u asked.

So everything that happens in the movie happens except coryo doesn't say "3 is enough for me" until after they've reached the cabin where they've just unknowing conceived their twins. He says this while they're both lying in bed n that's where that whole "who's the third" conversation happens. Coryo hunts her n she escapes w a non lethal bullet wound that def leaves a scar.

CS goes back to the capitol n goes on to be president at age 23. LG gets pretty far n struggles to survive on fruits, nuts, etc,, she's definitely not a hunter. It makes sense her period doesn't come as she hasn't been eating, sleeping, basically living right but what makes her sneak back to 12 is her growing stomach. She connects the dots. The covey help set her up at the cabin or somewhere only the covey know bc the mayor is still looking for her. She gives birth to twins, first a girl then a boy which came as a surprise. Theyre both tiny w the boy even more so but they make it.

I'm gonna headcanon one of the covey knowing how to hunt n they teach the kids when they're little, LG also learns. Think of the 2 kids from wolf children, that's how her kids are. Theyre so curious abt district 12 n wanna see where their aunts n uncles leave off to but they also follow their mom's orders like it's gospel so they never venture too far except for one time they try to hunt a small boar to bring back to LG. Obv shit goes awry, girl twin gets a head injury from protecting her brother which leaves a scar n boy twin is crying in hysterics. They rush to 12 to get help n this is what leads to LG's capture.

So as for their personalities:

Girl twin: imagine coriolanus if he was raised district w just his loving mother. Will commit all types of wrong for the right thing. Let's just say if it weren't for LG being her moral compass she has potential to be worse than CS. Like her brother she inherited her mother's natural charisma n charm but she can be like her father n use it for manipulative purposes. She's fiercely protective of LG n her little siblings, v much a katniss type. Shes quiet n observant, more introverted. Unlike her parents she doesn't have much interest in pretty things, for her practicality over everything. Both LG n CS want to spoil her w pretty gowns, accessories, makeup, whatever she wants but she dresses plainly (if thats possible w aunty tigris designing all her clothes) most of the time. It doesn't hide her beauty, she's gorgeous the same way her father is.

Her relationship w her father is strained. She knows he did smth to hurt her mother, she's never seen LG be so cold to anyone no matter how civil she tries to be, she's immediately weary. CS sees her scar n offers to have it removed but LG always talked abt how scars told stories n hers would tell of her bravery n love for her brother so she's offended by his offer. She hates how she can't deny her parentage LMAO she may as well have been asexually reproduced by him.

Boy twin: LG if she reincarnated in a physical copy of CS. Is ambitious about becoming a beloved singer songwriter the way CS was ambitious abt becoming president. He's a bit more sheltered bc his sister n LG babied him but he's absolutely not a doormat, hes the type to gracefully disrespect u n u wont realize until ur overthinking in the shower. However if u disrespect his family, hes not afraid to serve up a little rat poison flavored drink. He'll have ppl eating out the palm of his hands n it won't even be on purpose. He's the extroverted twin who can win anyone over. LOVES luxury. Prob the one most transformed by living in the capitol but, his sweet boy personality may or may not be a persona. He sees w rose tinted glasses more than his sister so he ADORES his father at first meeting. The concept of a father is new to him n he's only his father's son, he loves having new fancy things.

3rd baby: 3rd girl is not exactly planned but not unplanned either. She's born in the capitol. Twin girl's current favorite sibling bc it's a baby n a girl. Also twin boy's current favorite sibling bc shiny new baby. LG's biggest baby so far. CS gets to name her bc LG got to name the first 2 (like she had a choice after being hunted down by him 🤡) who have covey names. He'll give her a v capitol name, had she been a boy she would've been Crassus. Haven't thought further abt her personality, for now she's just a baby.

X number of siblings in between: N/A for now

Final baby: takes after LG the most. Brown eyes, brown hair. Everybody's favorite, everybody's baby. They'd all individually burn down the capitol themselves for the final baby.

#ask #*cracks knuckles*#just to piss coryo off the twins call lucy gray Ma #the eldest daughter to coryo: “deadbeat- i mean dad”#its almost 5 am n ill prob have more to say in the future

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purerae · 4 months

Text

— ROOM 42

CHAPTER TWO;; DETENTION

ROOM 42 MASTERLIST

SYPNOSIS ;; Y/N, surprisingly, in detention for missed homework, teams up with the school's delinquent to investigate a mysterious door. Unable too explore further, Y/N and her friends devise a plan to sneak into the classroom after school and explore the hidden space. Their curiosity leads to a sinister game of secrets and betrayal. As they and their friends go deeper, the consequences grow. How far will they go to hide their sins? How far will they go... for her? (click on master list for more details)

(keep reading for chapter two.)

AUTHORS POV Y/N hurriedly made her way to the front of the classroom, taking a seat and pretending as if she hadn't noticed Zion at all. Fidgeting with her backpack, she pulls out a book and a piece of gum, hoping to distract herself. As she scrolled through her playlists to listen to music, an uneasy feeling lingered amongst her. The poor girl prayed that the threatening delinquent wouldn't approach or look her way.

Several minutes drifted by, leaving Zion with a growing sense of boredom from vandalising the books. He had thoroughly ruined six of them, covering each one with ink; making them illegible with crumpled pages and scribbles covering the text. No one could read a word from any of the books even if they tried their hardest. Heaving out a big sigh, he looks around the classroom before deciding to turn his attention to the girl nearby. She seemed to be in the same year as him, though he didn't recognise her at all. The red eyed male sat on a seat to her right, she was too engrossed in her book and music to realise how close he was. It was some ‘stupid’ sci-fi book that was too nerdy for Zion to bother glimpsing at. He took advantage of her deep focus and used it as an opportunity to study her features. Her hair ,a shade of H/C that complemented well with her E/C eyes. Her eyes fluttered ever so slowly as she continued to flick her book to the next page. She had a bit of makeup on -- concealer to hide her blemishes with a bit of blush and bronzer infusing her cheeks. Her eyelashes were slightly longer due to the mascara she had put on in the morning. “Uhm, would you… like a piece of gum or something?” Y/N’s question interrupted Zion’s intense observation, catching him off guard. ‘What does he want from me..??’ the flustered girl thought, her impression of Zion was rapidly decreasing as every time he did anything around her, the situation got weirder and weirder. “Huh?!” He looks up to her face and notices her confused eyes bore into his narrowed ones. Startled by her direct address, Zion jumps slightly as he moves back, shaking his head while crossing his arm. Attempting to feign casualness, he quickly grabbed his phone from his pocket and pretended to scroll through it. Y/N flinches at his yelp as she attempts to converse with the male despite him ‘busily’ scrolling through his phone. “I said, do you need anything?” Y/N muttered, avoiding eye contact with the male. “You have been staring at my face for a while..” She finished, becoming slightly insecure thinking that there was a stain on her face or clothes. "I wasn't staring, I literally looked at you for a split second," Zion retorted with a scoff, trying to save his image, though the girl's observant nature had caught him off guard. Of course, Y/N didn't believe that for a second, but irritated by his attitude, she didn't say anything in retaliation but just nodded and went back to reading her book.

However, Zion’s irritation grew with the presence of this unknown girl, an uncommon feeling for him considering his general dislike for most people at school. But he wanted to know the reason why her presence pissed him off this much. He couldn't shake the feeling that he must know her from somewhere to contain such intense dislikement. After another minute of agonising silence and the girl who flicked another page whilst music leaked out of her earphones. His very little patience broke. “Oi, have I seen you anywhere?” The red haired male blurted out loudly, disrupting the quiet atmosphere Y/N wished to have.

Y/N sighed inwardly, wishing this detention would just end already. Oh, how she wished she could’ve just handed in her assignments to avoid being even in the same room as Zion Fellows. She knew that her friend Eliza despised Zion and had an annoying habit of ratting him out on everything he did. Skipping a lesson? Reported. Talking back to a teacher? Reported. Smoking at the back of the school? Reported. Eliza was the reason why Zion always ended up in detention. Though Y/N would never admit this to the girl's face, she really hated Eliza's slight saviour complex where she acted like a mini teacher with everyone and everything, but especially targeting Zion. She hated when Eliza did this but what can she do? It's not her life anyways. The best thing that Y/N could do was attempting to avoid the head delinquent at all costs just in case he tries to pay Eliza back and target one of her friends… but circumstances led her to this room -- with him. All alone. She had to think of a fast excuse in order for Zion to leave her alone. “No! We haven't seen each other anywhere at all… who even are you?” Y/N spoke quickly but winced, regretting her wording. ‘How is he going to believe that, he's the Zion fellows, the student who basically runs the school!.”

Zion immediately knew this was a lie. He was quite in fact the most infamous person in school. The only people who may not know him would be the students who enrolled into the school later on. But even then, he would make sure they remember his name. The girl sitting obviously was not new, as the logo on her skirt was worn out, and she wasn't even wearing the school uniform properly. The red-haired male made sure everyone was intimidated by him. How would she not know who he was? He raises an eyebrow as he turns his chair to directly face hers, sitting backwards from the seat. “Alright, then what's your name?” he grunted. “...Tracy” He let out a short laugh. “No it isn’t.” “Yes it is?” Y/N rolled her eyes, how would he know what her name is and isn't. This guy was quickly starting to get on his nerves. Now she's beginning to realise why Eliza dislikes him so much. A moment of silence passes by as Zion continues to inspect her face with a scrunched up expression before his eyes widen. He gasps as he realises that he recognises her from the time Eliza and him were arguing in the lunch hall, and she was sitting at the girls table. He dramatically gets up from his seat as he points a finger at her. She freezes at his movements as she slowly turns towards him. “Wait I know you, You’re that bitches friend!” Zion shouted, his voice bouncing around the whole class room. Y/N curses to herself as she quickly shifts against her seat, trying to think of what to say so this wouldn't be her last day on earth. “There are literally so many annoying people in this school, who are you talking about?” She said with panic laced in her voice.

A/N ;; Last time I updated this story was in July LOL purerae<3

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luffyvace · 4 months

Note

Hey! Can you do cute domestic headcanons with Kurapika and a female reader? 🥹 if ya feel like it <3

THANK YOU SO MUCH ANON THIS IS MY FIRST EVER REQUEST!!

(i wrote this three times and it crashed and deleted let’s try this again🧍‍♀️)

ENJOY!!

lets say this is during a time where he isn’t actively hunting the phantom troupe

also we’re going with where you guys are moved into a apartment together

for your safety he has security measures installed and teaches you how to fight if you don’t know how

if you do, great!! you two train together

especially if you know nen

that aside

kurapika’s love languages are:

acts of service

for this really he’s just a super helpful and motherly partner

feeling sluggish? give him your to do list he’ll do it all

feeling unwell? he’ll nurse you back to health

need to get this done but too busy? he’s got it

truly a caring lover

for quality time

he likes reading, shopping, cooking, cleaning, going on walks and cuddling with you

anything with you really

it is quality time after all

i feel he would also have a little bit of words of affirmation/praise in there

more so to you

”wow your so analytical and intelligent”

”your such a cheerful person, spreading happiness wherever you go”

”your so persistent towards your dreams….how admirable!”

or if you have impressive hobbies/talents or skills

”this only took you ____to learn?? your a genius y/n!”

”wow your self taught? your a natural!”

for your physical appearance he compliments your clothes and hair more than anything

not because he doesn’t love your beautiful eyes or sunny smile

but for example, when he saw melody, he didn’t see her as ugly or pretty

he just didn’t know she was a woman 😭

see what i mean? he just sees his girlfriend in a beautiful dress.

in his mind it’s less superficial

hope that makes sense

”you look stunning!”

“you did something new with your hair, i like it :)”

”is that dress new? it suits you y/n”

if you compliment him back he’ll be bashful about it

as for cooking

if your the better cook you make breakfast/dinner and he makes lunch

and vice versa

being the better cook comes with lots of praise 💖

he’s willing to learn more and is open to criticism if that’s the case

but if not abs he’s more skilled in this aspect he’ll teach you and give you tips

with cuddling you had to initiate it first

you came up to him while he was reading a book on the bed and snuggled up to him, laying your head in his chest and getting under the covers as he wrapped an arm around you, continuing to read

it gave him butterflies

he definitely likes to cuddle more often after that

sometimes even initiating it himself

he came up to you while you were watching tv on the couch and put his head on your lap/shoulder and you started to play with his hair

he also likes headpats

he gives you one and if you return the favor it makes him very happy ☀︎

bath time!!💗

he would be very nervous and shy about bathing together at first and makes sure your comfortable 1000 times

he doesn’t peak at you or look down

such a gentleman 🦋

if you want to add bath bombs or bubbles that’s fine by him as long as it’s noting messy

he’ll scrub your scalp and places that are hard for you to reach

would appreciate the same but doesn’t know how to ask

he does eventually after bathing together a couple times

“um..y/n? there’s this spot i can’t reach…could you get it for me?”

if you like to do makeup he would find it amusing to watch

ask to put some on him and you’ll be met with a polite refusal

although, ask for him to put it on you and he won’t decline

doesnt know much

knows a few basic things but gets some mixed up—it doesn’t look terrible tho

the result actually isn’t bad

eventually you meet his friends

killua isn’t all that interested in you, yourself- more so what type of person caught kurapika’s eye

unless you prove yourself to be cool right off the bat (liking chocolate robots or skateboarding)

leorio a simp 🧍‍♀️

may or may not “playfully” flirty with you. he cuts it out when kurapika straightens him out tho

he wouldn’t accept your offer even if you did flirt back- he’s too loyal to his buddy :)

gon is curious and the most interested in you

asks you all sorts of questions 😭💖

gon and killua can be a handful so i hope your patient, or at least not a hot headed person.

if they give you a headache kurapika sets them straight

he apologizes for the inconvenience in your own home

also gon and killua eat a lot-

but it’s fine because you send them grocery shopping which gives you some peace and quiet

that is until they come back with chocolate robots and snacks for dinner

so you and kurapika end up going shopping yourselves—leaving leorio in charge

which leads me to my next topic- shopping!!

kurapika is a responsible shopper, he stays on budget and doesn’t get distracted from the list

if you can do the same? great!!

if not you get stuck on cart duty

your job is to make sure no one steals the cart, put the items in the cart and..!

SCAN THE ITEMS!!🤩

if you want to ride in the cart he wouldn’t mind but would find it childish and a bit embarrassing

don’t forget you left leorio in charge..and gon and killua did NOT listen to him…😭

your house is a mess- they jumped on your bed, had a pillow fight, ate whatever snacks were left and went through all your stuff

“uhh- whoops!”

I REALLY HOPE U ENJOYED THESE ANON IT TOOK SO LONG TO GET OUT-

MY APOLOGIES FOR THE WAIT THANK YOU FOR BEING PATIENT AND MY FIRST REQUEST!! ♡♡

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sublimecatgalaxy · 2 years

Note

the little thing you wrote about Eddy comforting reader was so cute!!! sooo naturally my mind wandered off to Billy immediately and now I would like to request the same prompt, but with him :))

But like, this is Billy we're talking about, he's probably not very experienced with comforting people, but it would be SO cute to see him try!

anyway hope you had a good day! Love your writing!

I like literally can not stay away from this request since my love for Billy is like...pathetic and desperate and I love writing him more than like anyone right now😭

Angry tears flow down my cheeks as I take a breath in, the cool air of Indiana soothing my aching lungs, my eyes watching the cars go by and my ears tune into the teens raging inside. It was the annual Christmas party, the one that seems to come together every year by some random chance of fate, thrown by a random teen with rich parent.

And for some reason, I was invited to go.

But the minute that a drink was thrown at my white shirt, the group of men that cornered me joking about wanting to see what's going on 'underneath', I was out as quickly as I came in. There's only so much groping a girl could take in one night while trying to have a good night.

I wipe at my shirt with the sweater I brought, ruining it in the process of trying to dry me off. I groan loudly, tossing the sweater to the steps and I hear a door open, someone stepping onto the porch behind me.

"Occupied." I mutter, my face falling into my hands but I can still sense someone take a seat beside me. My head tilts to see Billy Hargrove with a shit eating grin on his face, my shoulders deflating. "I don't need you making fun of me right now." I huff, his tongue sweeping out to wet his lips and he bumps my shoulder with his.

"Come on, sweet-cheeks, tell me what happened." He sighs, resting his elbows on his knees as he leans over, pretty curls falling to frame his face. My lips part and a shuddered breath leaves me, my hands reaching up to wipe my cheeks. The last thing I need right now is for him to mock me or make fun of me for crying at one of the only parties I've ever attended in all of high school.

So do I tell him or do I just brush him off?"

"C'mon, don't tell me you're crying over some dumbass who broke your heart?" He laughs shallowly with a shrug and suddenly I realize that he thinks I was dumped or something, crying over something so trivial and stupid to someone like him, a serial romantic and a serial heartbreaker.

"It's not about a guy- I mean it is, but not for the reason you think." I sniffle, catching his attention as he suddenly realizes the sweater laying at my feet and my makeup that's running down my cheeks. His eyes flash with anger, his back straightening as he turns to me.

"Who did it?" His question is simple but the way he says it makes my head spin, the way his jaw grits when he asks, almost in a low, threatening tone. He's angry at the thought of someone hurting me.

"Billy-" He cuts me off quickly, holding a hand up to silence me as he leans towards me a bit.

"I'm not messing with you. What'd they do?" I'm confused at his concern, or maybe it's worry, especially since him and I are not the closest of friends. We've studied together here and there, but only because our teachers assign me as a tutor for him. I'm closer to his sister Max, spending a lot of time with her at the arcade so nothing would actually give him a reason to want to help me or care for me.

"Some guys came up to me and they were just messing around, grabbing me and stuff and when I refused to, uh- you know- they threw punch on me so they could see through my shirt." I explain slowly, disgusted by my own words, my eyes fluttering shut in frustration.

He's eerily silent, his shoulders pulled back in taunt anger and I can imagine his blue eyes gawking at me in shock. When I take the time to look at him, he's exactly how I would've imagined him, face red and blue eyes wide in anger.

"You got any names? Cuz I'll make sure they don't fuck with you." He offers and even though his words are menacing, his voice has a hint of softness to it. With a laugh, I shake my head, brushing his concern off, not wanting him to become homicidal over a few ugly perverts.

"No, it's fine. Just too mortified to go in there again." My head cranes back to look through the front door, looking at the teens who dance and smile, wondering why it's so hard for me to just blend in and follow along with my peers. It makes me nauseous to think that they can do such inappropriate things and just move on, not caring about their actions and how they impact people.

"Wanna get outta here then?" Billy's offer makes me break out in a cold sweat, my heart fluttering at the thought of being alone with him. He notices my apprehension and pauses, his normal smirk dropping and so do his eyes, gaze skimming along the skin of my bare legs.

"With you?" I stutter out, clearing my throat and he nods, leaning back to rest his elbows against the concrete step. "You're not gonna try to cop a feel right?" He bursts out laughing at my jest, my body relaxing a bit at his calmness, not completely used to him being so human instead of being revved up and angry.

"God no." He chuckles, moving to stand and he reaches out to hold a hand out to me. I pause before slipping my hand into his, loving the feeling of his skin against mine. He smiles, helping me down off of the porch as he leans in to whisper in my ear. "Haven't you heard? I'm a gentleman now."

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o- Taglist: @bubblebuttwade @rafelover2405 @leslienjazzy @sorceresss @grxnde-dwt @alex–awesome–22 @bunnietoof @niyamar1e @serialghost @plantlungs @geniusohn @akaliltimmytim @lilaalouuxx @xshariex @elliotsbeigeguitar @elle4404 @lelieja @srhxpci @joselyn001 @taysirene @spinkspanther @thedivineuphoria @peter-maximoffs @tsukishimawhore @poohkie90 @szlaco @distantsighs @nstyles4299 @wolflover384 @givemefoodandlovesstuff @vane28282 @yeswhatever33 @amirrahfranson @vvaalleennttiinna @f-mu @yaspillz @jeyramarie @skylievin@abbybarnes17 @jointherebellion215 @visiondaddy @steezysimfinds @its-ya-gay-boi-luigi @crunchytoenailsyum@glizzymcguirex @beth123lg @melovesmut @rafecameronswhore @ariianelle @write-from-the-heart @vampviolets@haylee-e@popehaywardssecretgf @honee-chai-tea @lokiandbuckywife @smoke-and-fire @officiallyunofficialperson@heyaitsklaudia@rosepetalsparks @bluetreecloud20 @scenesofobx @double-shot-of-tequila @1dluver13xx @colbysbrocks @iamasimpingh0e @smoke-and-fire386 @loveshineslikethesky @id-3-kbro @diorsitgirl @errorfound101-allideasburnedout @neverwillknowme18 @ellyskey @taylors-folk @loversjoy @myaloveee @thyris-is @lagataprrr

#billy #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove #billy x reader #stranger things #stranger things fic

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