#please tell me nobody has made this joke yet

[shykogasoline]

CURSED REALIZATION

#PLEASE TELL ME NOBODY ELSE HAS MADE THIS JOKE YET #splatpost #splatoon 3 #pearl houzuki #pearl splatoon

[performapals]

because the pedro pascal fandom killed my grandma okay

#koi.txt #please tell me nobody else has made this joke yet

[eat-sleep-read-and-repeat]

Why do you look so hot in it?

A/N: Hi... So this is the first time I am posting something 😅 I was re-watching their old videos and I got this idea.... I am posting this because this just would not leave my mind!! So I hope you like it and let me know if you do.

Ps. The prank that I am mentioning is when Elton had superglued a pink wig to Colby's head.

Warning: implied smut but it's only towards the end.

This is Colby Brock x reader

You and Colby have been dating for the past few months.

It was 8 in the morning and you were driving to Colby's house, the trap house, to meet him. He did not make it to the party where you were supposed to meet him last night and you got worried. You called him about three times and then received an overdramatic message from him stating that his career is over. Now you love Colby, you really really do but boy can he be overdramatic. He can turn any minor inconvenience into a life threatening situation. He told you that Elton pranked him and now he has to hide in his room for the rest of his life.

You reached the trap house and parked your car in their driveway. You opened the front door that is always unlocked. God they really need to lock their doors. "Colby!!" You call out, walking in searching for your boyfriend. When you reach the backyard you hear whistles coming from the construction site next door and Elton laughing his ass off. You walk out of the house again towards the street just to see Colby wearing a small princess dress in a pink wig twerking in the middle of the street. Nobody had noticed you yet and corey kept yelling at Colby to 'clap his ass'

"What the fuck did I just walk into?" You say capturing everyone's attention.

As soon as they saw you they burst out laughing, Elton kept pointing the camera in your direction as you stood gobsmacked trying to make sense of what you saw. Colby on the other hand was hiding his face in his hands completely mortified that you had seen him do that.

Elton was the first to speak up, "How do you like Colby's twerking y/n?"

"i am still trying to understand what happened to him... Like.... what in the world is going on?" You were speechless.

Corey spoke up as Elton kept laughing, "Elton superglued the pink wig to Colby's head."

"Okay that explains the pink hair but why is he wearing a dress that can easily pass as a maid outfit in some porno?" You asked now starting to laugh as the initial shock was gone. Your comment made them laugh harder and turned Colby's face bright pink. "Thank you for that babe... I really appreciate it." He deadpanned. You just winked back and gave him a flying kiss.

"Also also he got a date!" Corey added.

"A date?"

"Yeah the construction worker right there thinks Colby looks hot and is going to pick him up tonight."

"Oh my God." You laughed hysterically. "You should have told me sooner I would've brought my makeup pouch to help him get ready for the big date!!"

"Okay let's get back inside the house before I embarrass myself more than I have already." Colby sighed fast walking into the house. You watched him walk in and started cat calling him. "Damn princess peach got a fat ass!" Whistling as he turned around to give you a small twerk.

You follow him inside,"You still haven't answered my question though!!! Why are you wearing this costume??"

"Because... I have a photoshoot today. Which by the way got scheduled like what 20 minutes ago and Elton said that if I wore this costume he'll help me get rid of the wig. But apparently he was just bluffing to make me wear this!!" Colby said. Defeat was evident in his voice and as sorry as you felt for him you couldn't stop laughing. This was a damn good prank.

"No I do know how to remove the wig." Elton interjected.

"Yeah but it would burn my scalp!" Colby shot back.

"It MIGHT burn your scalp... And your hair might never grow back."

"Elton!" You gasped. "Please tell me you are joking.... I cannot have a bald boyfriend!"

"THAT is what you are worried about?? Not the fact that it might end my career?" Colby asked with his eyes wide and cartoonish. His hands waving all over the place just flabbergasted as the others started laughing hysterically at his reaction.

"No I am not worried about your career!! Your fans love you way too much to stop supporting you just because you are bald.... Also now that I think about it you can have as many different hair styles and hair colours as you want if you lose all your hair. There are so many wigs to choose from!!!" You answered still giggling at the situation.

You have known for a long time even before the prank wars started that Elton lets his pranks go too far but he always has a solution. He knew how much Colby loves his hair so you trusted him to never hurt Colby.

"Or else just stay like this and we call you princess peach from now." I added just for Colby to shake his head and then scream into his hands. "My own girlfriend roasts me. You know you can defend me sometimes right?"

"Yeah but what's the fun in that princess?"

"Okay.... Okay I see how it is.." he slowly nods his head as he looks at me betrayed and absolutely done.

"Here take this." Elton says while handing him two bottles of nail polish remover.

"What is this?" Colby asks as he inspects the bottle.

"This is what will help you get rid of the wig."

"It's acid!" Corey interjects, "Bruh he literally handed you acid to burn your scalp!" You giggle again.

"Shut up Corey!" You gently scold him looking at Colby's scared expression. His face was drained of all colours like he had seen a ghost. "It's nail polish remover Colby... You'll be fine just make sure to not get it in your eye. It won't do any damage but it'll hurt like hell" I console Colby holding his hand.

He slowly nods and walks into the bathroom. He bends down and turns on the sink faucet then pours the nailpolish remover on his head and rinses it in the sink. "Ow.. ow... It's in my eyes." He backs away. His eyes were now red and watering. You go to him and help him wipe his face. "I told you to be careful!!" You swat his arm.

"I didn't do it on purpose!! Ooooowwww.... It hurts!!" He whined. You keep wiping the drops of water running down his forehead to avoid getting anything in his eyes. Elton zoomed in on Colby's face.

"Oww... It hurts... It hurts so bad... Especially this eye." Colby says pointing his to his left eye.

"Why don't you guys do this in the backyard instead of the bathroom. It would be much easier." You suggested.

"Yeah let's do that" Elton agreed and led the group to the backyard.

"So like should i just jump in the pool or something?" Colby asked

"Or we could use the hose." Corey said.

"Yeah a hose would be a good idea." You agreed as you hugged Colby's waist and kissed his exposed shoulder. Just as Corey went to get the hose Sam and Kat came down the stairs.

"Colby have you not met your other half?" Elton asked nonchalantly.

"No.." Colby says as he casually walked back in the house.

"Oh.. my...goood.." Sam laughed. "Like I saw Colby from upstairs and was like what the fuck but now like... How does this happen?" Sam asked gesturing to Colby's outfit.

Colby gave Sam the same explanation that he gave you a few minutes ago as you kept giggling quietly exchanging glances with Kat.

Finally after goofing around a bit more Colby ended up in the backyard pouring nail polish remover over his head as Elton hosed him down and you recorded them. The wig slowly came off as Colby celebrated.

Once the wig was completely off Elton kept spraying Colby with water. Colby rinsed his hair a bit and looked directly at the camera. As hard as you were laughing before you completely froze when he looked into the lens cause my god did he look good. He looked so good at this moment that you forgot what was going on and the only thing on your mind was Colby.

"I still cannot believe that I was twerking wearing this ridiculous outfit in the street." Colby groaned as the others laughed

"If this was a ridiculous outfit then why do you look so hot in it?" You blurted out. Everyone looked at you as you slapped your palm on your mouth.

"God damn y/n! I didn't know you were kinky." Corey commented as Elton whooped taking the camera from your hands and pointing it at you.

"I said what I said. He looks hot wearing this all wet." Everyone whooped as Colby laughed nervously. "Please tell me he gets to keep this outfit!" You add looking at Elton.

"Yeah he can keep the outfit." Elton giggled shrugging.

"Oh you are wearing this every once in a while." You deadpanned looking Colby dead in the eyes as others hollered.

"As long as you guys keep it down and I don't get to know about any details, Colby gets to keep the outfit!" Sam interrupted.

"You have a deal blondie" I shake his hand laughing.

Once everyone calmed down they filmed the outro. After they finished filming everyone left to get back to their schedules leaving you and Colby alone in the backyard. You walked closer to Colby and gave him a long kiss.

"So I look good in a princess costume?" He asked looking into your eyes

"Yep." You responded popping the 'p' "you look so fucking hot Brock... I swear you help me discover kinks that I didn't even know I had." You whispered as you played with his wet hair.

"You know I still have two hours before I have to leave for the photoshoot." He whispered back as he kissed your cheek.

You immediately pull back and drag him back in the house towards the stairs saying "To the room!" As Colby followed you laughing and stumbling the entire way.

I hope this was good!!

#colby brock #colby x reader #x reader #tfil #sam golbach #youtuber #colby brock x reader #colby brock x y/n #colby brock x you #sam golbach x reader #sam x reader #imagine #sam and colby

[dejinerate]

How would the members of SKZ react to you when they're drunk? Hmmmmmm...

The setting: an outdoor circular bonfire in the backyard

ALL OT8 members. Felix. Jisung. Lee Know. Hyunjin. Bangchan. Changbin. Seungmin. Jeongin.

FULL smut scenes mentioned of various types. 18+ ONLY.

enjoy ❤️

💖Felix

He'd be the quiet drunk, normally shy and observatory, enjoying the warm sensation of the alcohol spreading throughout his body. He'd be comfortably listening to the conversation around the fire. Especially when you spoke. You'd be across from him completely out of reach to his touch, much to his dismay. There have been many nights shared between you two. Drunk nights, sober nights, hot summer nights, cold winter nights, "baby, please come over..?" nights... and yet, somehow, nobody knew. It was still a secret you both kept sacred, your relationship unspoken and understood, hidden away from the judgmental opinions of the world. When you were in a public setting like this though, it's always hard to mask those intimate feelings while around the other members. Your whole body screams when it wants to be near him, but he always keeps his control, wanting to protect both of you, keeping his distance. His eyes would focus on you accidentally, catching your stares unintentionally, unable to look away from you as the night progresses, alcohol flowing through everyone freely. He rarely speaks the whole night, just laughing occasionally at jokes here and there, slipping in and out of focus of the various topics. You notice he can't stop looking at you, once the alcohol is overpowering his resolve. Always looking. You wouldn't be able to resist his gazes, there's something in the way that Felix looks at you that's unlike anything else you've ever felt, different from anyone else you've ever loved, his eyes searching for your thoughts...

The way his eyelids lower into a stare full of desire is enough to have your stomach clenching your core in your seat, restless. You'd bite your lip on instinct, face instantly flushed in the moment of your eyes meeting, your chest filled with butterflies. He'd watch your mouth as you chewed on your bottom lip in response, his gaze would drop down to watch each time you abused the sensitive flesh, and he'd tilt his head at you, taunting and admiring the unraveled mess you became over such a simple act. He'd smirk, understanding his effect on you, never wavering in his newfound drunken power of control. You couldn't take it anymore, needing to stand up and cool off, heading to the bathroom to run the sink faucet to pat your face with the cold water to ground yourself.

Unbeknownst to you, he made the choice to follow you into the home, watching you when you disappeared into the bathroom, waiting for you quietly outside of the door. Stealthy. Ready to attack. He's on you as soon as you walk into the hallway, walking you backwards into the bathroom that you just came out of, a finger pressed to your lips to keep you quiet until the door is closed. He grabs your wrists, holding your hands above your head against the wall, pinning your bodies together. His voice is deep against your ear, hot and heavy, and he whispers "You're gonna have to be a bit more careful than that, love. You've been so obvious tonight. You've never been good at hiding your feelings, hmmm?" He teases you, licking the shell of your ear, making you shiver in response. "It's always in your eyes. Use your words instead, and tell me what you want, sweetheart." His Australian accent is heavy on his nickname for you, knowing he drives you crazy when he talks to you that way. He's smirking when he pulls back to look at your face, knowing you can't respond verbally, knowing your body's reaction to him. Knowing he has you exactly where he wants you.

His cheeks are red, his eyes are taking in every detail of your face, the alcohol making his expression brazen, wild, and ravenous. He gives you no time to react before he kisses you, biting your bottom lip as he's fumbling to open the front of your shirt, needing to expose your tits to his hands. His rushed fingers and frenzied kisses make you weak. "mmmh, Felix, baby-," you whimper, your voice betraying you, giving away your obvious need for him.

Felix hums against your lips, whispering against them, "Pretty baby, look at you, so needy... be my good girl, and stay quiet for me, sweetheart, we don't have much time."

He grabs your hair, tilts your face, and presses hot kisses against your neck, making your legs buckle and your head dizzy. You mewl in response, gripping onto his shoulders tightly, as he's making you a squirming, panting, pathetic little mess. He trails a hand up your skirt, his mouth clashing on your lips as he shoves your underwear down, hissing at how wet you've already become. He traces two fingers up your slit, finds your entrance, and begins to fuck you on his fingers against the wall. The moans that escape you are loud, overpowering the heavy breathing in the room, and his unoccupied hand sneaks his thumb into your mouth for you to suck to force you to be quiet. "Good girl, sweetheart." He maintains eye contact as you suck on his thumb, his erection pressing painfully against his pants, his deep voice driving you mad as he finger fucks you to a release, sending electric shocks through your body, swallowing up your sounds as he replaces his thumb with his mouth, kissing you hotly, tongue swallowing your cries. He's not done though.

He's driven wild with his love and his lust for you, a fully primal need taking over his body, and he pushes you up against the sink, bending you over as your face hovers close to the mirror. He grabs the tits popping out of your shirt that he unbuttoned earlier, grinding hotly against you. He makes quick work of his zipper and groans in frustration that he can't get inside you fast enough. You stay still for him, anxious for him to be buried into you just as badly as he is, and you're looking at him in the mirror when he finally enters you without mercy. Your eyes meet in the mirror, both of you groaning at the erotic indirect eye contact, and he thoroughly loses himself thrusting inside of you, hips bucking on their own accord. You watch his face as he fucks you in front of the mirror, his mouth open, his eyes rolling back, feeling his deep groans push you closer and closer to a second release as he chases his high. "Love you so much, 'sweetheart." the raw emotion tumbling from his lips, as he switches his hold on your tits to grab your arms, your hands now behind your back as he uses them for his grip to pound his hips deeper, his cock hitting so far into your core that it feels unreal, unworldly. It's so good that pleasure like this overwhelms you, tears in your eyes with how much you feel, your eyes full of emotion while you both look at each other in the mirror, chasing your simultaneous release together as you can say nothing but 'I love you', over and over and over.

💖Jisungie

He would be the drunk that would observe you all night, admiring the way you laughed, noticing when your drink was empty to fetch you another, and would be using any excuse to sit beside you just so your legs might touch. He's intoxicated from the smell of your perfume as you walk by, as well as the alcohol in his cup, and the touch of your skin from sitting so close is overwhelming all of his senses. He'd be hard just from those touches you weren't aware of, and he'd frequently have to adjust his sitting position as to not draw suspicion to his situation. He'd eventually work up the courage to draw a circle on your thigh while the group is talking, hidden from view from the others. The sudden touch, completely unexpected, lighting your entire body on fire. You'd touch his hand in response, and only then you'd look over and realize how he'd been quietly suffering being so close next to you, his cheeks flushed, his lip in between his teeth, and his other hand covering the quickly forming bulge hidden under his pants.

You'd grab his hand, pulling him from his seat, pretending to walk to get another drink together, but instead, you'd shove him against the wall on the side of the house away from any possible onlookers. His desire painfully pressing against his pants, he'd look at you incredulously, asking what you were doing, until his eyes widen in realization when you've sunk down onto your knees in the grass making quick work of his zipper. The next thing he sees is stars under his eyelids as you take him in your mouth, and he loses himself completely, thrusting down your throat as if he's been starving to do it for months, a needy desperation coming over him. He keeps silent as you work him, and finally opens his eyes to watch you, quickly succumbing to such an erotic sight below him.

💖LeeKnow

The sarcastic, energetic one of the group, encouraging everyone to shotgun a beer with him, he'd sneak a hand around your waist in moments no one's watching, he'd be the one that would get a thrill at risky PDA in front of the guys, stealing kisses from you whenever he could. It would start off with an innocent kiss to the cheek, and once he'd see how cute you'd blush, overwhelmed at the sudden affection, it would become his mission to keep teasing you. His eyes would meet you in the glow of the bonfire, crinkled with mischievousness as his touches kept getting more bold, as more alcohol would be giving him the courage to experiment. As you're sitting around the bonfire with the group, you feel his hand drape behind your seat. You pay no mind until you suddenly feel his hand drop, touching your back, exploring the bottom of your shirt. You feel his fingers creeping in, touching the skin on your back, and it feels like fire. He'd see goosebumps erupt onto your skin, watching your eyes widen, and he'd whisper to you "Shhhh. Stay still. They don't see a thing." And for some reason, you'd listen.

He then draws circles on the bare skin of your back, drifting up to your bra line, teasing the fabric against your skin, pinching it in his fingers to draw it back slightly so it slaps quietly against your back. You gasp, and he's shushing you again. This time you glare at him, and before you say anything, he says, "What? You want me to stop?" not looking at you when he says it, his eyes are facing forward, still looking like he's engaged in conversation. A smirk on his face as he knows you have no answer to that, and his hand drifts downward, coming out of your shirt to grip the curve of your ass instead. He sees you shift your legs in response. Satisfied with his teasing, he whispers in your ear.

"Go to my room. I'll be there in 15 minutes so it's not suspicious."

💖Hyunjinie

Drunk Jinnie is an incredibly frustrating man to figure out. Extroverted when needed, yet mysterious and quiet in his thoughts. Most of the evening would be spent sitting directly across from each other in the circle, your heated gazes meeting across the flames of the fire, his eyes watching you as you purposely flirt with the other members to get a reaction from Hyunjin. Whispering into Chan's ear, but keeping your eyes on Hyunjin as you do it. Letting Chan grip your thigh for a few seconds too long. Giggling at Chan's jokes. Chan has always known the secret between you and Jinnie, but he loves the teasing game as well, ever a flirt, drinking happily, chattering with his buddies as you try and get Jinnie to react. Chan can tell you're being intentionally provocative, he looks at Hyunjin gazing at you. This is a game to you. Chan chuckles beside you, playing along with your antics. You're trying to make Hyunjin's resolve crack. You want him jealous, and Jinnie knows your devious plan. He doesn't cave. His eyes remain calm, even, and unaffected. Seemingly bored. You huff to yourself. Instead of anger or jealousy, he's smirking, bemused at your defiant bratty actions, secretly knowing none of the other men know how to make you cum like he can. That none of them compare to him. That they never will. Even if they had a chance with you, you'd always come back to Hyunjin, a drug you can't quit, an addiction you can't break.

He sees you exhale a frustrated sigh, getting up to go to the house to grab some snacks. You no longer want to watch him keep neutral as you try to rile him up. That's just no fun and he's so frustratingly good at the game you both play. His stupid, handsome, gorgeous face making you scowl at how easy he gets under your skin. He follows silently behind you as if he's hunting his prey. The next moment, he has you snatched in a bedroom, his hand closing softly on your neck, kissing you so deeply it has your head spinning. Before you have time to react, he's already bent you over in front of him, pushing you up against the side of a bed, a fist of your hair in his hand. You immediately submit to him. "Did you get to have your fun, little brat? That was quite a show for me." His hand comes down to slap across your right ass cheek, making you squeak in surprise. Hyunjin doesn't often get rough, and you realize, you did succeed in your mission. Quite effectively.

"You know you're mine, right?" Another smack. "I own this pussy, brat. I own you." Another slap, and he grabs the curve of your ass, palming and rubbing the handprint sting on your skin. It makes you arch your back, gasping at the slight sensation of the leftover pain, as he's never disciplined you quite like this before. "Such a needy little slut tonight, aren't you?" he says, his tone mocking you, as the alcohol keeps making him say the filthiest things as he presses his throbbing cock against your panties. He angrily pushes his pants down, letting them pool around his feet, and roughly spreads your legs open as he's holding you from behind. He places a hand on your shoulder so your face is down in the bed, as he lifts up your lower body to tease against his cock. Next thing you know, he's ripping the fabric of your panties, effectively destroying them as he swiftly enters you with no other warning. He's already throwing his head back in bliss, fucking you from behind at a fast pace, you've been dripping wet as soon as his lips were on yours and he can't help but let go of himself as he slips in and out of you with ease. You start moaning far too loudly, and his hand quickly covers over your mouth as he sternly tells you to be quiet. His pace is fast and aggressive for so long, feeling like you'll break, but you can never get enough of him, even if your legs turn to jelly rendering you unable to walk the next day. It's always been firey hot passion with him. It's an undeniable chemistry between you that always has you wanting, never satiated of him.

The alcohol just makes his stamina last even longer, as he relentlessly uses you, edging you to your almost euphoria as he feels you tighten, knowing he's about to push you over, as he's done so many times before. But suddenly, his hips stop completely, and he leans down with his mouth next to your ear. He's panting hard, and you whine at his stopped hips. He says your name, voice barely a whisper, deep and hoarse. "I didn't say you could come yet, baby. You've been so bad tonight. You're not allowed to finish until I say so, pretty girl. That's your punishment. We're done when I say we are, and that's not any time soon." He presses a kiss to your neck, and begins to rock his hips deep and torturously slow into you, dropping his head against your shoulder, moaning from the most sensual, primal core of him. A shiver courses through his body, and you feel it against your skin, suddenly feeling hot and unable to breathe. The change of his pace makes the ache so good between you two, an ache only he can ever create. He's sighing against your skin, placing slow kisses across your back. "I can never get enough of you." He moans, his hips stroking into you nice and slow. The way he moves his hips is truly the most dangerous thing about his intimacy, he easily finds and hits the spots nobody else could ever satisfy. You're a trembling, whiny mess underneath him, fully immersed in his dominance, the air sticky and sweet between you. He hungrily claims you and worships your body, exactly how he wants to, all on his terms tonight. He's filling all of you entirely. You're so lost in each other that you don't know where his body ends and yours begins. The two of you completely disappear from the group that's still happily drinking outside, not returning back to the bonfire for the rest of the night.

💖Channie

He's the wild card. He's also the most talkative. He's asking you question after question, seemingly unable to stop, the alcohol giving him the courage to finally ask you things he's been wondering about you. He watches your face, and his eyes are constantly lingering on your mouth as you answer him, his body leaning towards you against his own will, like a magnet. He stays with you by the fire all night, drinking and talking with you til the rest went to bed. Once they all leave, his hand reaches out to touch your leg as you're facing each other, and he rests his palm on your knee that has a hole ripped in the jeans. He's absently fiddling with the loose threads, still maintaining eye contact and fully absorbed in everything you say, and mid sentence your face falters. You look down, and he's moved a finger up into the rip of the jeans, touching the bare skin of your knee underneath. When you look back up, his stare is different. His eyes are burning, his mouth slightly open, his breathing a bit uneven from the alcohol in his body. His face is flush from the drunkenness he feels, mostly from the intoxication of your proximity.

You bite your lip in response to the seemingly innocent caress on your knee, easily affected by his touch. His eyes watch the movement of your mouth, finally snapping into action as soon as he saw your tongue dart out to wet your lips. His body betraying him, caving into his intense desire to kiss you, and he fiercely locks his lips with yours, bringing a hand to the back of your head to pull you close so he could feel the full pressure of you against his mouth. He'd start to get greedy, becoming hot and heavy into the kiss, until he realizes there is no rush. There is nothing but you two. He slows down, deliberately taking his time now, languidly kissing you as if nothing else existed in that moment. The tenderness of his change in pace makes you whimper, lacing your arms around his neck, wanting to be as close to him as possible. He gets the hint and pulls you into his lap, your jeans riding up as he's settling you down onto him, and once you're in the locked position, you feel the pulse of his bulging cock, straining from beneath its prison. Both of you realize at the same time that there's only a few layers of fabric left between you.

"God, you're so addicting, I've wanted this all night." His hands are roaming your body, exploring your soft curves, squeezing and testing and teasing. You grind into him, and his moan of response is needy, vocal, and raw. He doesn't care that you're outside. He lays completely down on his back, your body following him as he's bringing your face with him, kissing your lips. You're straddling him as you hover over his face, but one of his arms holds your neck down so he can keep kissing you deep and dizzy, opening your mouth to his. He forces you to bear all of your weight on him, he mumbles against your mouth. "I've got you baby, don't worry. Just lay on me and let me do the rest."

You keep kissing, but you're soon gripping at his shirt, needing to be closer, whining at the lack of skin contact, and he understands you want it off. He throws it over his head, reconnecting with you quickly, and you feel his heartbeat thundering beneath you, the heat of his skin searingly hot. Your lips collide clumsily, and you're fumbling with his belt, having difficulty releasing it from his waist, and he chuckles against your lips, "Your noises are so cute when you're not getting what you want fast enough." He makes quick work of his pants and slips them down just enough to expose himself, rubbing against you. You detatch from him unwilling to rip your jeans off your legs, eager and anxious, and crawl back on top of him, nothing but your thong left in the way. You moan and close your eyes, unexpectedly feeling how soaked you are through the fabric. You're sure he can feel it too, and you get embarrassed, knowing how badly your body is screaming for him.

"Mmmm, princess, what'sa matter? You seem nice and ready, baby. Tell me you're ready for me." You glance down at him, his eyes are teasing as he's biting his lip, he's enjoying the torture you're feeling. He's been driving you crazy all night, the way he looks at you is enough to get you off even without touching. Your voice is quiet, embarrassment flooding your cheeks as you shut your eyes, "I'm ready, Chan, I can't take this anymore." you all but whimper, and that's all he needs, as he moves the soaked panties to the side, teasing against your entrance. Your eyes are still closed, as you feel him rub himself against you, and your face is screwed into an expression of desperation. You can barely focus. "Look at me, beautiful. Give me those pretty eyes", he orders softly. Your eyes snap open to look at him from his gentle command, pleading him with your gaze, as his face reflects the same desire as yours.

"Say please, sweetheart." His breath is coming out quickly, his eyes intense, as he holds his cock, preventing you from sliding down and enveloping him. "Anything you want, princess. It's all yours, baby. Just say please." He whispers.

"Please, Channie," the whine is unlike you, never having heard your voice this desperate before. He moves his hand and enters you as soon as the words leave your lips. He braces himself and pauses at the sensation, closing his eyes to fully experience the feeling of being so deeply buried inside you. You both are in the moment of the fullness between your bodies, your warmth suffocating on top of his own, his hands keeping you locked against him. He grinds experimentally while he's still at the deepest point, and the sound you let out sends him over the edge of what was left of his self control. His hips move back, dragging himself out of you, and he begins to thrust, slowly moving underneath you, and he's so overwhelmed that he harshly grips your hips as he fucks you, going as deep as possible for every thrust into you. He keeps your body held still above him, and lowers your face back down to him and kisses you. You cry out against his lips, the feeling of him moving inside you too much to handle.

"Shhhh, just hold on to me love, let me do it. Let me make you feel good, baby. Let go of it all, give yourself to me." You obey, fully trusting him with your body, and he feels you relax your muscles against him. He continues to rut his hips upward, over and over, as you keep your body still while he's doing all the work, holding you tightly as he loses full control in you, both of you not caring where you were, or who might see you fuck in front of the fire, the risk exhilarating and powerful. You feel completely safe, and so incredibly turned on, realizing Chan is the type of man who wants to do all the work, wants you to be a pillow princess, and craves your pleasure as much as his own, and wants to worship your body like a gift. You make love that night under the moon so many times you lost count. His name becomes a permanent prayer on your lips.

💖Changbin

He absolutely would be the showboat of the entire group. He'd want to play the risky games of spin the bottle and Never Have I ever, specifically making sure to pick on you and make you blush at any opportunity he could. He'd also be the one to challenge everyone to arm wrestles, and when it would be your turn with him he'd hold your eye contact and pretend like he was struggling in the wrestle just so he could hold your hand longer and make you flustered. Once the seal of physical contact was open, he'd make any excuse to make it keep happening, following you around wherever you went. He'd lightly shove your shoulder to throw your tipsy body off balance just so he could grab around your hip tightly to keep you standing. He'd flick your thigh randomly in the middle of conversation just to start the cat and mouse game of winner versus loser. By the end of the night he'd be ravenous to play wrestle in bed with you, too pent up from the silly little games all night.

💖Seungmin

Is the quiet caretaker of the group. He takes his time drinking slowly, and would attend to your every need before you even said something. He'd keep count of how many drinks you've had, he'd observe your eyes to gauge your level of drunkenness. He'd be the one to hold you up and carry you back home at the end, even with his own tipsiness. He'd be the one to help you get ready for bed, taking your shoes off, helping with your make up, making sure you had water on your bedside, helping you with the stubborn buttons of your shirt. He'd be the one to protect your honor when you'd grab for him and kiss him. He'd kiss you back, but he'd also tell you he doesn't want to take advantage of you, and he'd lay beside you and hold you as you slept. When you wake up in the middle of the night, sober, coming back to your senses, he'd wake as he would feel you stir beside him. You'd push back against him, quietly telling him a thank you for taking care of you when you were drunk, and he kisses the back of your head and tells you, "Always." The sweetness of him is too much, and you feel your hips instinctively tease the bulge you feel against your ass. He groans as his body has an immediate reaction, caving into his desire knowing you're fully yourself again and able to consent, and the two of you spend the rest of the early hours of the morning lazily curing each other's hangovers.

💖Jeongin

When he's drunk, he's able to finally let go and his intrusive thoughts seem to have no filter. He's a lightweight, getting drunk after a beer and a half, and he'd be the one cackling at silly jokes, being able to genuinely be himself. You'd find yourself laughing with him, seeing him able to let loose like that, and he'd be the one too shy to make a move, but would still want physical contact. He'd hold up his to hand to compare hand sizes, he'd want to stand up back to back to see who was taller, he'd be the one to compare arms and legs to see if you have matching freckles. You'd be the one to kiss his cheek first, and he'd be startled, his expression changing from shock to desire within seconds. He'd meet your eyes with a heated gaze after you withdrew, the dam of affection finally cascading open. His lips would crash onto yours, his whimper escaping past his lips at the sensation, and his hands would move on their own accord to tangle in your hair. You'd break apart, looking at each other, panting, both of you blushing and shy, nervously giggling, carefully exploring the new butterflies that erupt from the touch of each other's skin. You spend the rest of the night slowly discovering each other's bodies, quietly laughing as you both are giddy with the experience, spending all night together in an intimate, hazy, heated bliss.

#stray kids smut #skz smut #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #stray kids imagines #skz imagines #bang chan #lee know #changbin #hyunjin #han #felix #seungmin #I.N #christopher bang #lee minho #seo changbin #hwang hyunjin #han jisung #lee felix #kim seungmin #yang jeongin #stray kids #stray kids scenarios #stray kids drabble #stray kids fic #skz headcanons #skz scenarios #skz drabble

[kayhi808]

Company Party

You were never one for big parties. Always preferring intimate get-togethers. You're attending your boyfriend's company Christmas party. The ballroom of the hotel is elegant and beautiful. Decorated in red, gold & silver, its truly a festive wonderland. The twinkling lights and the soft Christmas music in the background lightens your mood.

Your relationship with John has been deteriorating but you tell yourself it's work stress. The stress of the holidays. You tell yourself once the holidays are over you'll talk things over and work it out.

Even though you're seated at John's side, he's pretty much ignored you all evening. His coworkers' dates seem to all know each other. They've met before. John's never invited you along to go out with his team. Their inside jokes fly over your head. You sit with a forced smile trying to keep up. Follow along. The feeling of being an outsider becoming very apparent to you.

"You want something to drink?" John finally acknowledges you.

"Sure, a Coke please," you smile up at him but he's already turned to the rest of the table, taking his friends drink orders.

He returns passing out bottles of beer and made a point of delivering a cocktail to his coworker, Robyn. You watch him with unease as he leans in a little too close to her. A knot starts forming in your belly. He smiles at her with the smile he used to give to you. He returns to his seat next to you and drinks his beer. You stare at him, "What??" He gives you an exasperated look.

"I'm kind of parched. Where's my Coke??" You hiss out sassily.

"Oh, you want me to go back to the bar?"

"You can remember HER drink but you can't remember mine?" HER in question gives you a surprised wide-eyed look. Keeping your voice low, "Who is she, to you?"

Knowing he messed up, "She's just a co-worker. Stop being crazy."

You've never felt so humiliated. You fold your napkin and replace in on the table, pushing your chair back. You grab your bag, leaving the ballroom. Expecting John to follow you out but he never comes. He stays in the party.

Part of you is so angry you want to go in there and cause a scene, but what good will it do? You'll end up feeling even more humiliated. He obviously doesn't give a shit. You sit in one of the lounge chairs trying to decide what to do. You repeat to yourself that it's over. You're done. You take out your phone and break up with John through a text. He's not even worth your time. If he wanted to make things right, he would have followed you out here. Tears start to fall and you brush them away.

"What's got you so upset, Darlin'?" Bill Russo, John's boss, crouches down in front of you, dropping a hand on your knee. You didn't even hear him approach. John's never introduced you to him, but Anvil is a prominent company and Mr Russo is frequently in the society pages. You know who he is.

Embarrassed, "Oh, it's nothing. It's been a long rough day," you sigh. "I was going to head home early."

"Have you eaten? I don't believe they've served dinner yet," nodding back at the ballroom.

"No, I'm going to head home, thank you though."

Lifting his hand from your knee, he holds it out to you, "Bill Russo, by the way." You place your hand in his and he smiles while you tell him your name. His warm hand surrounding your chilled one gives you shivers.

"Come, join me for dinner. There's an excellent Italian restaurant upstairs. Everything will seem better after a good meal." Not releasing your hand, he pulls you to your feet as he stands.

"But...your party is here."

He shrugs, "Nobody wants the boss at these parties." Again, with a coaxing smile he gently tugs you towards the bay of elevators. "Please join me for dinner."

You silently follow.

#billy russo #billy russo x reader #billy russo fanfic #billy russo imagine

[so-long-soldier-writes]

Safe

elijah mikaelson x reader

summary: old habits die hard, even when you live in a town full of vampires. you've tried to stop, but addictions are hard to quit. luckily, one of them is there to help you feel okay again.

tags: s3lf h4rm, light angst, angst with a happy ending, emotional hurt / comfort

word count: ~1.7k

Before entering the Grill, you check the bracelets on your wrist, making sure they’re all in place. The last thing you want is for your mistake to be on display for your friends to see. Then, with a sigh and a fake smile, you step inside. 

It’s unusually busy today, but that’s okay, because more people means less looking at you. A lot of older relatives occupy the booths; graduation’s just around the corner. Younger kids from your high school sit with them or with their own friends at the tables. One of the tables seats Stefan and Caroline, but in your state, you feel like it’s a bad idea to approach the two vampires. So, you opt to talk to Matt, at the bar, instead. 

Halfway across the restaurant, though, Caroline calls you out, “Y/N!”

You pause, turning to her, “hey! How are you two?”

“Okay-ish. Worried about Elena. Discussing what we could do.”

“Is she still… humanity-less?”

Stefan grimaces, “yep. Not even Damon’s been able to sire-bond her out of it.” It hurts him to say, you can tell. 

You give him a sympathetic nod. “Can I help at all? I know I’ve asked before, but…”

“I wish. I think it’s up to her, though. We have to find a way to convince her to come back to us.”

“And with Jeremy gone, that’s going to be hard,” you continue. 

“Because she doesn’t think she has a reason to come back,” Stefan finishes. 

The three of you share a collective sigh. As difficult as Elena can be, she’s your best friend. Caroline’s too. And Stefan’s in love with the misguided girl. Damon convincing her to turn off her humanity was the worst decision anyone’s made yet, and there've been a lot of bad decisions made in the last couple years. 

“Just let me know if I can help at all, Care. We need to get her back soon.”

“Agreed. Before she spills any more blood in this town.”

“Or before we lose her for good,” the man adds. “Hey, speaking of blood, do you smell something?”

You freeze. “Mmm, nope.” You laugh it off as a joke.

Caroline grins at you, then responds, “it’s faint, but kind of.”

“I’m going to look around for a second and make sure she isn’t here as we speak. Care, do you mind checking the back, I’ll scan here?”

“Yeah, of course. Catch you in a minute, Y/N.”

“Definitely!” You nod, then quickly turn away. At least the smell is faint. You look down at your wrist, which is still slightly red, and try to wipe it away. As if that would help. With no luck, you hurry towards Matt. The human will only be able to tell if he looks at your arm, but now you’ve moved your bracelets back in place. 

Once again, you only get about halfway there when a gust of wind blows through the restaurant. It’s probably just Stefan, you think, checking for Elena. But then, another gust passes by, and suddenly, you’re outside. 

“Shit!” You curse in a whisper. 

“Y/N?” A man questions your name from the shadows. You can’t see him, but you recognize the voice. 

“Elijah? Is that you?”

“Yes.” 

Relief washes over you. “Is it you that brought me outside?”

“It is.”

“Can I ask why?”

He finally steps into the moonlight, letting you see him. Classy as ever, in a suit. Handsome, like always… you shake the thought from your head. 

“I smelled blood, so I did a scan of the restaurant to see who it was. Rebekah had smelled it too. At first, it was tempting, but then I learned it was you, and knew I had to bring you out here to find out why you are bleeding. Y/N,” he takes your hand, “are you hurt?”

“Um, no, I’m okay.”

“Be honest, please. I do not intend to harm you. Has someone else hurt you?”

“No, I promise. Nobody’s hurt me.”

“Then why do I smell blood on you?”

“It’s old.”

“Faint, yes, but not old enough.”

“You don’t need to worry about it, Elijah, I’m fine.”

“I only mean to help you, lovely.”

“I know, but I promise that no one’s hurt me.” You look into his eyes, trying to get him to believe you. He looks back with a tenderness that makes you drop your own gaze. It’s overwhelming to look at him sometimes. You can tell he cares for you, but it’s not something you know how to interpret. 

“I know you’re telling the truth, but yet it doesn’t explain… May I?” 

You swallow hard, then nod. With your hand in his, he turns it over and exposes your wrist. Then, illuminated by the moonlight, is your big mistake. Three scars, swollen and red, carelessly carved into your skin. They’ve only stopped bleeding a little bit ago, but haven’t yet scabbed. It won’t be for another week or two that the scars will fade. 

“I’m sorry,” you mutter, tears forming in your eyes. 

“For what? What do you have to be sorry for? The only person who should be sorry is the one who hurt you.”

“That’s why, ‘Lijah. I did it. I did it to myself.”

He looks up at you, words stuck in his throat. “Why?”

“Doesn’t matter. It’s stupid.”

“Of course it matters. You can tell me. You’re safe with me.”

Safe. 

The word alone breaks the dam, and tears escape down your face. “Everything, ‘Lijah. Everything that’s happened that I can’t control. Everything that I can’t fix. Everything that has nothing to do with me, and everything that has everything to do with me.” You vaguely cry out. He’s quiet, waiting for you to continue, so you do. “This town used to be so simple and quiet, and now it’s so unpredictable. My friends are getting hurt left and right, and I can’t protect them. Elena’s gone, in the wind, with no emotions. Jeremy’s gone entirely. Bonnie constantly overworks herself and one day it’s gonna really hurt her. Tyler’s never there for Care and I feel so, so awful that she’s suffering and missing him, and I just wish she could be happy. Stefan, too, is heartbroken, but doesn’t let it show. Matt’s terrified because we’re the only two humans left in our friend group. And I, pathetically, am useless, because I’m human, and I’m no help to anyone. But even if I was something stronger, I’d probably still be useless, because I’m me. I’m just the idiot whose parents are alive, but I have no relationship with them, and my friends probably secretly hate me for that. I’m not smart enough to offer advice, or help make plans to save Elena, or anyone else. I’m a disappointment, too, because I’m in love with a thousand year old vampire that they don’t really trust. Of course, they only know I think he’s hot; they don’t know that I’m actually, hopelessly, in love with him. They’d probably compel me to forget him. But, you can’t forget the top reason for disappointment! I can’t stop hurting myself! I’ve been addicted to it for years, even before this town was all vampire-y. At some point, they found out I did it, and I stopped for them. But then, shit went downhill again, and I went back to the one thing that I knew how to do correctly. I can’t do anything right, and I’m useless, and mortal, but I can do this correctly. Even if it gets me killed, it’s one thing I can control; one thing I can do.”

You stop your rant abruptly at the realization that you’ve been both sobbing and sniffling uncontrollably. Something hits your lip and you’re not sure if it’s from your eyes or nose, but it disgusts you nonetheless. Here you are, standing in front of an original vampire, crying about your personal problems. And you’re pretty sure you just admitted you were in love with him. Great. 

“I’m sorry,” you mutter, again. Your voice is barely audible, but he hears it. 

“You have no reason to apologize.” He kisses your knuckles. “And you are not useless, you are not hopeless, nor are you an idiot, nor any other name you call yourself. You are a brave, strong woman, and it makes you even stronger that you’ve faced all you have and remain human. You’ve bested the lot of us vampires; that is admirable. You’ve helped in plans to save your friends, you’ve put down your own life to save them, and have still come out alive. Human. You’re worth so much more than you believe you do. And, whoever it is that you are, may I quote, ‘hopelessly in love with,’ should consider themselves blessed that you love them that much.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, afraid to look at him. His words swirl around in your head and your heart, mending your pain, yet you can’t look at him. 

“And your habits,” he continues, “your harm. Does not make you weak. It’s simply an outlet for your pain. A harmful one, yes, but not one that means you are anything less of a person. If you would let me, I would like to be that outlet instead. Put your pain on me instead of on your skin.” He smiles, “not because of the blood, but because I care too much to see you hurt yourself. And, also, because I do fear someone else hurting you if they sense it.” You can feel his gaze upon your scars. “May I?”

You nod without knowing what he’s asking, but it’s okay. You trust him. 

Slowly, he brings your wrist to his lips, kissing it gently. His teeth don’t make contact with your skin; only softness touches them. 

“You’re a beautiful woman, Y/N. If not for me, do it for yourself.”

You finally meet his eyes. “I don’t know if it’s enough to stop for myself. But I can for you.”

He offers you a smile.

“Can I hug you?”

“Of course.”

He meets you halfway, wrapping strong arms around your body. For the first time in a while, you feel okay. Safe. 

“Elijah?”

“Mhm?”

“Can I admit something?”

“Of course.”

“It’s you,” you take a breath, “that I love.”

He smiles, wider now. “Consider me blessed, then. If I may, I’ll admit I’ve fallen in love with you, too.”

You return the smile, then pull him back into the hug. Safe, and even happy. 

#elijah mikaelson #elijah mikaelson x reader #tvd fanfiction #tvd season 4 #tw s3lf harm

[ashes-writing]

three stupid words | shameless ; l.gallagher

A/N ; I, uh... I dunno where this came from and more importantly, I do not know where this is going, if it's meant to be a one off thing with a fem!reader or there will be more in the future. But hey, it's here and I thought, ahhh.. why not.. i'll wake up and choose violence in the form of angst today. So here we fuckin go.

( By all means, if you guys want more to this pls... Encourage me and my fuckery. )

Pairing ; Lip Gallagher x Best Friend ! Fem reader.

Timeline / Other Stuff to Note ; This is set around the time that Karen was pregnant had Lip believing he was the father but the father turned out to be some other kid and they broke up. If I were to continue this, a lot of Lip's stuff on the show would arguably change. And I dunno that this would actually follow a lot of the canon plot or anything. So.. yeah.

Tag List ; There is nobody on my Shameless tag list. if you'd like to be added to my taglists for anything including Shameless, please let me know or add yourself -> here.

Warnings ; Angst. Friends to nothing to lovers. Alcohol + creepy asshole scenario mentioned, Kissing. Three stupid words. This one is tame.

Other Stuff ; tag list doc || my rules - fandoms and some characters I write for || requests are open (pls.. pls... send me things) but they're limited to headcanon asks + filth/fluff alphabet letters and I'm not accepting wrestling / wrestlers in my ask box. Any other fandom/character but wrestling that I happen to write for is fine and I beg of you -> send me things.

I do not consent to my work being reposted elsewhere or copied/reworked/rewritten and reposted here or elsewhere. You don't own this, I do. So like... don't steal my shit.

“And furthermore, Phillip,” you’ve got your hand on your hip, your chest is heaving and your nostrils are flared. All that’s missing is your hands gesturing wildly or the way you always seem to wind up invading each other’s personal space whenever you butt heads. It’s been like this since you were both around 6 and 7.

From the kitchen doorway, Fiona tries not to double over.

Lip takes a long sip from the bottle of beer he’s confiscated from Frank’s stash in the fridge. He’s calm. Smirking a little. “What, princess?”

Your nostrils flare just a little more. You step closer. “What did you just call me?”

“You heard me.” Lip smirks. Stepping closer to you. Vee, who has just wandered in and is observing this whole thing, nudges Fiona. “One day they’re gonna tie up and Lip’s going to kiss her to shut her up.”

Fiona laughs. “Nah. They’ll storm off like always. But she’s not wrong. She came by to check on him in the first place but naturally, he’s being a little bitch.”

“Not because of Karen.” Vee’s only half joking and at the mention of Karen’s name, Fiona rolls her eyes. Then she nods to you. “All she’s doing is telling my brother the truth.”

The two of them turn their attention back to the scene unfolding in front of them. By now, Lip’s back is against the door of the fridge and you’re listing off every single flaw Karen Jackson has one by one. You end with a breathy, “She’s a lying, cheating, selfish little slut, okay? I’m sorry you’re hurt, I really am. But we all tried to tell you there was a huge fucking chance the kid wasn’t even yours.”

To Fiona’s surprise, Lip hasn’t stormed off yet. And he seems to be taking it in. Staying calm. He takes a sip of the beer and drags the back of his hand over his mouth. “You about done, princess?”

You throw up your hands because you assume that nothing you’ve just said, not a damn word of it, has gotten through to the guy. “Yeah. I’m done. You accept the love you think you deserve, idiot. Think about it.”

Fiona and Vee share a puzzled look until something clicks for Vee and she gapes and promptly nudges Fiona. As she explains what she thinks you meant by the last comment you made before storming out the door of the Gallagher house, Fiona glances across the room at Lip. When she stops and really thinks about it, she’s not wrong. All the signs have always been there, Lip’s just been too blind to notice them.

Lip swings at the kitchen wall and then aggressively grabs his cigarettes and lighter before storming out to sit on the back stoop.

You stopped to take a few deep breaths, glancing back at the Gallagher house as you drag a hand through your hair. Your friends are right. Mandy was right. Maybe it’s just time to let the past -and your almost lifelong friendship with Lip Gallagher, go. Your next deep breath is shaky. You’re unsettled by what you’ve just realized. But you stand taller as if that’ll help somehow. As if it’ll make it easier to do what you’re about to try.

– ( almost three weeks later ; a block party in the South Side ) 

You haven’t spoken to Lip Gallagher in almost a whole month. It hasn’t been easy, especially given that Lip seems to linger, to pop up anywhere you happen to be. You weren’t planning to come out all day because of the block party going on in the streets down below, but Mandy Malkovich showed up with Ian Gallagher in tow and the two of them practically dragged you out of the house.

Now you’re out, wandering through the crowd. You’ve got a Seagram’s wine cooler in one hand and a bag of cotton candy you’re grazing on every so often in the other. You spot Lip up ahead and you immediately turn with every intention to walk away but when you turn, you find yourself body to body with an asshole named Henry who likes to pop up and corner you and every single time, it makes things uncomfortable ™ but Henry doesn’t seem to care.

You’ve got a bet going with Mandy about the jerk, he’s definitely in line to be the first incarnation of Ted Bundy or Richard Ramirez, there’s just something empty in his eyes that spooks you way too much. You gulp as Henry immediately pins you so that you don’t really have much of an escape, with your back against one of the local food trucks and his hips. As he opens his mouth to say something to you, the sour stench of beer and vomit makes you cringe hard and you roll your head away instinctively. You’re raising your knee when out of nowhere, something smashes against the back of Henry’s head and Henry slumps over.

Lip is standing there with the neck to the bottle he’s just broken over Henry’s head and he extends his leg, nudging the toe of falling apart Converses into Henry’s side and he does it hard. Then he leans down. “What’d I tell y’, huh? Leave her alone you fuckin fuck. I told y’ this was gonna happen next time you pulled your bullshit.”

You’ve done literally everything a girl can do to avoid Lip Gallagher at this point, even going as far as to find a whole new tutor and getting your schedule changed around at school just so you don’t go down any of the hallways Lip does.

That’s how serious you are about avoiding the guy. There’s no other choice but to avoid him because if you don’t, you’re going to lose your damn mind pining away while Lip chases whatever girl he’s putting up on a pedestal for the next few years til you can hopefully leave South Side behind.

You haven’t seen Lip in almost a month and somehow, seeing him right now has the exact effect you were afraid it would. Everything you feel comes rushing back all over again and there’s a tug at your heart, that empty space he occupied is gnawing at you now under the intent stare of glazed over baby blue eyes.

“I,uh.. Thank you.” you manage to get the words out and then you do the only thing you can in this situation. You bolt. You don’t run but you speedwalk away as fast as you can, putting a big chunk of drunken party goers between yourself and Lip.

Once you’re down by the corner store, you lean against the brick storefront and rest the back of your head against it as you take a few deep breaths and you fight like hell to keep from caving into the urge to go back to him and just… Pretend like nothing is wrong and your heart doesn’t break every single time he gets mixed up with a Karen or one of those preppy princess-y types he’s always oogling in the halls, the ones who only use him for his cock and then they’re done.

Because you can’t keep living like this.

And you’re so close, you’re almost free of the chokehold Lip Gallagher has on your heart.

– or you like to tell yourself you are. Deep down you know the truth and you know that you’ll probably never be free of it.

He’s shouting your name and somehow, he’s gotten both his brothers in on it too.

Ian knows you too well. So you’re not surprised when Ian finds you hiding out in the alley between the corner store and some old store with boarded up windows, smoking a cigarette as you finish off the Seagrams wine cooler you swiped from your mom’s fridge. 

“Just talk to him. C’mon..”

“Ian, I can’t.”

“But you can, though! This whole thing is driving him crazy, alright? I almost can’t live with the miserable prick lately.”

You bite your lip and take a deep breath. “Talkin’s not gonna do anything, Ian. Not when I’m the one with the problem. Look.. I love him. I can’t just sit here and watch him keep chasing the little princesses or the Karens and getting fucked over because it kind of physically hurts. He deserves better, I just.. I can’t deal with him until he finally realizes it.”

You don’t realize what you’ve just done until you hear the sound of glass shattering at the top of the alley. Your head snaps up and you find a very stunned Lip Gallagher standing there with his mouth open almost comically.

Ian goes to leave and you stand because this is not how you wanted things to come out. You’re in fight or flight mode, leaning heavier to flight. You never wanted anything you just admitted to Ian to come out of your mouth at all and yet, now it has. You know you need to run, to get the hell out of this.

Because let’s face it, Running is so much easier than standing here and dealing with the aftermath and the awkwardness you think you know will be coming.

“Ian, take a walk, buddy.” Lip fixes his gaze on his brother. Ian nods and the two share a look.

You go to leave with Ian but Lip’s arm shoots out, hand resting against the brick wall close to him for purchase. Forming a barrier so you can’t escape. “Where th’ hell do you think you’re goin, huh?”

“I-I..” you stammer around your words and finally shut your mouth because nothing is coming. 

For at least two or three minutes too long the air is heavy, filled with what you just confessed and a thousand other things unsaid that you’re a little too afraid to admit. You go to duck beneath his arm again but he refuses to budge. You glance up at him. “Lip, don’t.”

You tell him not to but deep down, you don’t mean it because you’re faced with losing him and now that you’re actually looking him in the eyes, you’re a little frantic. You don’t want it to happen.

But damn it, you can’t bite your tongue anymore, either.

“You’re avoidin me and I’m fucking tired of it, princess.” his eyes get a little stormy, they always do when he’s angry or upset, you know him like the back of your hand.

You place a hand palm flat against the front of his tee shirt when he steps closer just to keep a little space between the two of you because this is hard enough already and the closer he gets to you, the harder it’s going to be.

Blue eyes settle on the way your hand rests against his chest. Right over his heart.

But he doesn’t keep trying to get closer and invade your personal space. He takes a few shaky breaths instead. “What you said t’ Ian… Any of it true?”

You gulp.

“All of it.” you answer quietly, eyes trained on the word Fuck screenprinted on his shirt. You don’t dare make eye contact.

But Lip hates it when you won’t look at him, especially right now when he needs you to the most. All he wants to do is figure out why you’ve practically disappeared off the face of the Earth for the better part of three weeks because it bothers him because now he’s come to realize that he loves you and that seeing you around or hanging out -even when you wind up arguing, that was one of few things that kept him from clawing the walls.

So he grips your jaw and makes you look up at him. “I love you.”

You blink. This shocked haze settles over you and you’re barely listening to anything else he says because you’re still trying to process the first thing he says to you. Meanwhile, Lip has gotten desperate and this is what leads to him stepping up to you. Pushing you against the wall you’re both standing close to with his hips pinning yours flat as rough hands shakily skim your sides before squeezing your hips.

Your noses smash when he leans down and in towards you to kiss you and you pull away a little, holding your nose. Lip surveys your nose critically while muttering apologies over and over but then the words die away. And he’s focused again, he’s leaning in again with only one thought on his mind.

His mouth bumps yours clumsy and lazy and you’re about to pull back but you just…Can’t. Your mouth falls open ,welcoming the intrusion of his tongue as it drags over your teeth and massages yours and you feel yourself starting to come out of the daze just in time to realize what’s happening. His hand catches in your hair and he pulls your mouth in deeper, rough and thin fingers twisting and tugging at soft strands as he all but melts into you. You start to kiss back, you try to take dominance in the way your mouths meet but he’s quicker and he wants control more. You wind up wrapped around his body with your arms around his neck as your fingers rake his scalp and tug at curly hair before coming to a stop against the back of his neck. He shivers when you rub against him and melt into him just a little more and for a second or two, he nearly forgets to breathe.

The kiss finally breaks. His hand raises and it catches against the side of your face, his thumb dragging your cheek. “I’m sorry, I’m so fuckin sorry.”

“I’m sorry too. I just.. I couldn’t take it anymore, okay? Like..” you look down, you’re toying with the end of your shirt sleeve as it hangs over your finger because there’s a loose thread, “Even if you couldn’t… Love me… I couldn’t just sit back and keep quiet when you’re always letting yourself get hurt.”

“But I do love y’.” he answers quietly. He’s grabbing your face again, his forehead against yours with the warmth and the smell of cigarettes, beer and the fried pickles he ate earlier lingering on his breath, “I mean that. I always had, just..” he hesitates. Swallows hard. “You’re too fuckin good for me, princess.”

“Lip, don’t…” you take a deep breath. “Stop saying that!”

“It’s true.” he shrugs.

“It’s lies.” you pout up at him.

“Agree to disagree?” he questions and you both laugh quietly.

“C’mon. Let’s go lay under th’ tracks and watch the trains go over.” he mumbles with a laugh and then he takes off at a run with you and you’re clinging to him, laughing. Smiling.

Because maybe everybody’s wrong.

Maybe sometimes, there are reasonably happy endings. Maybe, you think to yourself, this can be one of them.

#lip gallagher #lip gallagher imagine #lip gallagher fanfiction #lip gallagher fanfic #lip gallagher oneshot #lip gallagher x best friend!fem reader #lip gallagher x you #lip gallagher x reader

[ixiot-ghostrebel]

YOU. I LOVE IT EVERY BIT OF IT. I ABSOLUTELY LOVE ITTTT ALSO IF CAN YOU MAKE A PART TWO IF YOU CAN??? ITS OKAY IF U DONT WANNA. MUAH MUAH TO YOU AND THAT ANON‼️‼️‼️‼️💗💗💗💗

THANK YOU SO MUCH, @raaaaaaahornetstinger! Here is the Part 2! I am so glad that you love Part 1! And, let's be honest, the oneshot would not have existed if not for the Anon and the headcanons XD Hope you enjoy this one!

Key Information: There is a time skip gape from Part 1 and Part 2. Part 2 is in Reader's POV, and it will begin with the Reader asleep, after the incident with Nahida and Venti. Reader does not know about Nahida and Venti's punishment given by the Imposter.

Click Me to Read Part 1!

𝐀 𝐏𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐁𝐞𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐇𝐨𝐩𝐞.

Warnings: Bad Grammar, Spelling Mistakes, Not Beta Read, OOC Characters, Implications of Violence, & Mind Control/Mind Manipulation.

Read if you are okay with these terms. Please also let me know if I missed a warning!

— — —

"MX. Y/N!!!" A child screams, running into my view. I don't remember the child's name, but I know who they are. They are familiar. They are someone from a village.

They grow up to be the next Blacksmith of the village, after their father.

They grow up and marry the whole-hearted, girl that would be a strong woman, working in their farm, selling their crops to make a living.

They become prosperous in their village, and make their friends and family proud.

It hasn't happened yet, but I know it would happen. Every child born in Teyvat, no matter who their parents are, I am their "Prime Parent," as the child would say as a joke. They are all my children-in-spirit.

I smile down at the child. "What is it, Little One?" I ask in a gentle tone, crouching down to get to their level. "What exciting adventure happened today?"

"Mx. Y/N! The Village Chief told me to bring you to our village!" the child replies happily, grasping one of my hands. "Let's go, let's go, let's go!" They bounce up and down from their excitement. I chuckle at the child's antics, but I relent. Who could deny a child as adorable as this, anyways?

The path to the village was a fast blur, and all of a sudden, I am swarmed around by villagers, happily greeting me and hugging me, smiling and offering me trinkets and goods they have prepared for my arrival. I smile and wave, kindly accepting one or two things from each villager.

It was amazing.

It was lively. It felt like home.

"Happy Birthday to our Honorable and Forever Humble Guest!" The Village Chief shouts, raising his glass.

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY!"

—

I wake up, gasping.

Oh. Another one of those dreams again. Past memories of me being this "creator." Hah, how bittersweet. It seems like nobody can tell the difference, not even this world—Teyvat! If Teyvat doesn't even recognize me, how the heck will I ever survive this hunt?

More importantly, how the heck does someone break the mind control the Imposter has over everyone?

I sigh, finally getting my breathing under control. These questions will have to wait for another day—I still don't know much about it. It's not everyday you read a sagau fanfic about the Imposter being a smartass. It's even more rare to hear about mind control! What was this, the Zombie Apocalypse?

I sigh again, sitting up from the grass I was laying down on. Like usual, my clothes were a mess. But there was not time to dwell on that. I get up from where I slept—under a big tree—and begin to walk cautiously through the area.

I need to find a way to enter Inazuma, to get to the Statue of Seven. Surprisingly, getting dendro was a whole lot faster than getting Electro. Mainly because Inazuma is an island.

While I could just use anemo to fly across the sea, there is only one issue: my anemo powers are much stronger if I stay in Mondstadt, and no where else.

Building a bridge made of geo to Inazuma? It'll probably die a quarter way there, honestly. And there's no way in the hell would dendro be of use in this situation—unless you count walking on kelp and seaweed to be an option (probably still unlikely though).

I sigh again, exhausted. This was going to be so difficult than I thought it would be.

If only I could just use waypoints like the Traveler!

As I continue to walk, I begin to wonder what real purpose there is for my existence here. Sure, I'm the creator and all, cool, amazing, but what am I suppose to do when literally everyone I ever care and love and simp for decides to throw me out the window, willing to rip my guts open because my Imposter called me the imposter?

At this rate, now knowing that the imposter is smart and can literally mind control people, I'm starting to lose hope. After all, how was I suppose to defeat a tyrant all by myself?

I sigh again, this time more frustrated. I kicked the dirt beneath my feet. So annoying—my hope leaving me, my courage turning into fear and leaving me begging for my life...

If only I could do something about it all...

Wait a minute.

The dream I had earlier. The village. Where was it? Where did it originate from? All the details I remember...the child, becoming a blacksmith, the child's wife...a birthday surprise, a banquet...

What did all of this add up to? There had to be a meaning behind it, just like all of the other ones I've been getting every time I get some shut eye.

I hide behind the nearest thing closest to me—a tree—as I hear footsteps. I continue to think. I closed my eyes, concentrating. Where was that village...

Oh. Oh, I am such an idiot. That village.

It was where Khaenri'ah used to stand, before Khaenri'ah even stood. I don't know how I know, but I do. I know where it is. I guess it's some sort of gut feeling.

Time to look through the Abyss, I guess..? But how do I even get there in the first place? And, more importantly, would the Abyss Order attack me on sight? (They probably will, I mean, who am I kidding? They probably loathe the Creator anyways for what they've become.)

Well, one way to find out, I guess. No hope left, but this was a lead onto something. And it's better to try than to give up, right? Besides, who else would if I didn't?

I wait for the rest of the footsteps to fade, before bolting to the location that I have engraved in my mind. I will not be dying today, nor ever. That much, I will bring with me.

𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑬𝒏𝒅.

Ghost Rebel Side Note: I don't think this one was as good as Part 1. To this, I apologize 😭 I am so sorry for making this a lower quality than the previous part! It honestly feels so rushed—I'm so sorry 😭 My motivation ran dry.

Will I make a Part 3 for this? Maybe, but it will take some time—motivation comes in sparks and it lights a fire before it disappears once it finds no more roots to burn :')

Also, since I'm at it...THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR a) 4000+ LIKES AND b) 100 FOLLOWERS! Y'all are great, I swear 😭

Check the Ghost Rebel's Blog Description to See if Their Mailbox is Open!

#yandere sagau #sagau genshin #genshin impact sagau #genshin sagau #sagau #sagau impostor au #sagau angst #self aware genshin #genshin cult au #sagau cult au #genshin self aware #platonic genshin x reader #genshin x reader

[facingthenorthwind]

So while reading Halo Effect, I naturally became obsessed with the one (1) Jewish character who turns up twice, one as a brief mention and one to write a single letter. Because I am extremely normal, I am writing a fic about him. Technically I've only written the first half (the second half is Peter and Thomas meeting up with him), but it's self-contained. It's been written for literal years, so I figure I should at least post it on tumblr. I hope you enjoy it, @alex51324!! (Also I haven't Yiddishised the Hebrew yet because I only know the standard pronunciation but I'm going to get someone to do it before I post it on AO3.) Hopefully this is comprehensible to non-Jews?? Please let me know if not.

Is it breaking a mitzvah if I say mourner's kaddish for someone who might not be mourned otherwise without a minyan? At most, there's a Green who has a J on his identity disc on one of the wards, but he's currently on so much morphine I don't think he'd remember the words, Issac wrote to his father once he finally got back to his unit. Honestly, he didn't much care what his father wrote back — if God didn't like him saying kaddish for Fitz, God could come down here and tell him what alternative he had. He asked his father to send a candle so he could light it for Fitz, but crossed it out and asked him for ten candles. Fitz may have been the first, but he sure as hell wouldn't be the last.

The news of Fitz’s death had preceded Issac’s return, but nobody had touched Fitz’s belongings yet. Cruelly, the most essential things, the things that meant most to him, had gone down with him, but Rouse eventually laid out everything that was in Fitz’s rucksack so they could decide what they should send back to his family — well, his brother. Fitz had said he didn’t have any other family left. 

They decided they’d split his cigarettes between them — Scogs tried to crack a joke about how Fitz had always been so free with his cigarettes it was almost like he wasn’t gone, but he trailed off, and no one laughed. His large collection of letters went in his rucksack, of course (he seemed to get them constantly, all from different people; sometimes he had even acted as some kind of go-between, passing on information from one letter-writer to another, as if they couldn’t just write to each other themselves). The scarf he’d worn every day from Christmas until mid-April, when even he couldn’t deny it was too hot, went in as well — Issac had always thought privately that it was fairly ugly, but then again, if he tried to knit a scarf it would probably turn out much the same. 

Dawson got Fitz’s copy of Prester John out of his own pack and removed his bookmark before handing it over to Rouse. “He’s made some little notes in it,” he said. “Nothing all that interesting yet as I can see, but it doesn’t feel right to keep it.”

Rouse packed it and Scogs didn’t mention that he had been next in line to read it. One of them could write home to get another copy, probably. Issac was sure he could — he had already received several yellowbacks which he’d left in the break room once everyone had read them so they could find a new home. Fitz’s sewing kit, playing cards and the various other things he’d been sent went on top and by the time they were done there was an all-too-noticeable hole where Fitz had once slept. 

It was only then that Issac noticed Rouse had gained corporal’s stripes. It made sense — Fitz needed replacing and Rouse was an obvious choice, being the smartest of the lot of them. He congratulated him, but Rouse wasn’t offended that he didn’t quite hit the right tone and his smile didn’t reach his eyes. Rouse’s didn’t, either.

When he arrived at the wards for his next shift, Captain Russell clapped him on the shoulder and gave him an extra ration of brandy. And then they just had to get on with it.

------

Fitz’s brother never replied to the letter he sent, so Issac kept saying kaddish for him past the thirty days that were traditional. He knew there were lots of reasons he might not have written — maybe it got lost, or he didn’t want to hear from Issac, or any number of perfectly innocent explanations, but as Issac watched men die day after day he couldn’t stop thinking about how if Fitz’s brother was dead, there was no one to remember Fitz as family. 

He said it for eleven months, as he would for a brother — four months longer than he’d known him. About six months in, Rouse wrote to him saying that he’d been stationed with Fitz’s brother at a CCS. He was a corporal, apparently, and Rouse said he reminded him of Fitz — that they said some of the same things, though in temperament they were pretty different. The war dragged on.

He kept a list of people in his units who died as he transferred from place to place, but it quickly became clear that he couldn't light a candle for each of them. The list just kept going, a litany of names followed by the date of their death in the Gregorian and Hebrew calendars. Jerry Scoggins, 30 September 1915/22 Tishrei 5676. Billy Dawson, 2 October 1915/25 Tishrei 5676. Fred Keighery, 4 February 1916/30 Shevat 5676... It felt like keeping track of their yahrzeits was more of a motivation to note the Hebrew date than keeping the holidays, since it wasn’t like he could, not really. Even as he tried to pray every day for whatever service he had free, the words of the festival services just made him homesick, and he didn’t have any of the things you should have: matzah or his mother’s blintzes or a lulav. 

He wrote to Moishe about studying the RAMC periodicals at Shavuot instead of Torah; it felt... oddly fitting. He knew, logically, that this war was man's fault and God didn't have anything to do with it, but that didn't provide any comfort when he was on death watch, sitting beside a man who gasped as he drowned on dry land. If the only control he had in this hell was giving two fingers to God, then he was going to take it. 

His father sent him a machzor so he could pray Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur, but he got to Unetaneh Tokef and didn't even have the energy to be embarrassed when someone found him crying ten minutes later. Reciting the ways people would die in the coming year — who by water, who by fire, who by sword and who by wild beast — felt absurd when he could list just as many from who was on the wards. Who by phosgene, who by sepsis, who by bullets? And for the machzor to claim that repentance, prayer and righteousness averted the severity of the decree — that sure hadn’t fucking worked for the soldiers getting killed. It hadn’t worked for Fitz or Scoggins or Keighery or— 

By the end of 1917 he could no longer go over the top, having lost his hearing in his left ear from a shell exploding too close. The letters he received detailing how his nephew he’d never met could talk in whole sentences now and how Mr Rabinowitz had fallen and broken his leg felt like missives from a world he would never return to again; how could he, when all he knew was the war?

The Armistice meant the supply of wounded slowed, but he didn’t go home — he was stationed at a general hospital, so there were still plenty of cases coming through. Even when they offered to send him home because he wasn’t regular army and they were well aware that the other corps had mostly got the wartime recruits out… he knew it was cowardly, but he accepted the offer to stay on until the RAMC left France. He couldn’t picture how he was going to fit back into the Leylands, and perhaps if he put it off long enough he’d finally work it out.

He did not.

When he finally got off the train at Leeds, it felt a little like a fairytale — he kept being shocked that he could recognise the buildings as the train came in, and it sounded the same as it had before the war. The back of his throat began to ache, though he wasn’t sure why, but before he could focus on that his mother was calling his name and hugging him. Had she been there the whole time? She gave him a kiss on the cheek and led him to everyone else — there was Shoshie, who grinned at him and then prompted the child hiding behind her legs to greet his Feter Itzik. While the nephew he’d never met hid his face in her skirt, his father embraced him with a decidedly gruff, “Son.”

And at last there was Moishe, his smile twisted by the scarring on his face. He looked like he understood the slight bewilderment that must have shown on his face. “Glad they let you go eventually,” he said, slapping him on the back. He spoke into his right ear, probably noticing that Issac had turned so he could hear the people in front of him more clearly with it. 

“Yeah,” Issac said, not trusting himself to say anything else lest he start crying. 

“See, he’s not scary, Dovid,” Shoshie said, having coaxed his nephew out in front of her. “Say hello.”

“Hello Feter,” he said at last. “Why don’t you have a face like Feter Moishe?”

“Dovid!” Shoshie said.

Moishe shot Issac a grin. For the first time in too long, Issac laughed.

#emma writes things #halo effect #alex51324

[arkiwii]

PLEASE DO RAMBLE ABOUT SARIA IM PUSHING THE AUTISM BUTTON.

I’m newer to arknights and I’m a fan of Saria and Silence because I have eyes but I’m more curious to know what things you wish people talked about more wrt Saria and her relationship to the other RL characters? She has so much complexity as a character but she’s often shown so reductively.

Also cool art (prozd tumblr tags noises)

YOU WON'T HAVE TO ASK ME TWICE THEN.

If you're new to Arknights, then I would gladly recommend you the official Rhine Lab manhua! It's basically everything about Rhine Lab past, Silence and Saria's relationship, and Ifrit's origins, so VERY good to know

But anyway, ABOUT SARIA

You're pretty right that her complexity as a character is not often shown, and it makes me sad, the community often thinks of her as just "divorced dad", the joke is alright but it says so little about her and mostly, about why she's like that

Most people might think "poor Silence" or "poor Ifrit", but rarely anyone feels pity for Saria?

She's someone who grew up without a family. I mean, in the emotional sense of the term. She has a dad, a very likely absent mother as she was never mentioned, but never she grew up lile any child should. She was pressured to act like an adult and independently by her dad when she was just a child. And most importantly, grew up with the firm idea that emotions are useless. Crying won't solve anything. It's showing weakness. You shouldn't get attached to things or people, because it will make you suffer.

But now what does it says about Saria, now that she's an adult? That she's very good at being an adult, of course, but when it comes to emotional stuff, she never grew up. She built some shield around her heart, a VERY sturdy shield, that sure protected her and helped her a lot in her growth, but she came to realize that this shield is now disabling her for her emotional relationships. However, herself don't know how to break it.

I simply love all the psychology and symbolism in this. NoriZC (the artist behind Saria, Silence, Ifrit, and a few other Rhine Lab characters) often associated Saria to rocks and Silence to plants. Rocks are hard to break, but yet, plants can still grow on them. The rocks are also associated to her Arts, as she can use Calcification - a very sturdy shield, basically.

But now this is what truly hurts her. That she can't understand emotions. She's slowly learning (seen with how she learnt with Ifrit and to actually care about her), but there's always things that will escape her. Why Silence is so mad at her, she doesn't really know. She believes that she made a mistake, obviously she blames herself for not being able to stop Kristen or Rhine Lab, but does she understands that Silence is scared that she has been abused and britally faced a reality she never thought existed?

And now she doesn't understand her own emotions neither. She never had a family, never learnt to love, and now that she lost what was the closest to a family, she feels like something is missing. Is she fighting because she wants to stop unethical experiments and save lives? Or is she fighting because she wants Ifrit and Silence to be safe? It might be both, but the second option is out of her understanding. It's just feels weird to tell yourself you care about people when you never learny what it felt to care.

And now, she's alone. Silence may have support from Mayer, from Magallan, Kafka, Ptilopsis, the Doctor themselves even. But Saria? Nobody understands her. Nobody can truly see what is under this shell of hers. Her heart can't be reached, even by herself. It almost feels like that she doesn't care.

That's something I've been thinking about a lot recently. Saying that Saria doesn't care is deeply wrong. She just doesn't know how to show that she cares.

Anyway, that's what I think is extremely interesting in her relationship with Silence and Ifrit. That with them, she would be able to break this shield, to show her heart, to learn what she never got taught, to care and to love. But for this to happen, it would need Silence to perceive Saria's heart and understand it.

#it's one am but FUCK IT WE BALL #ghrhghghr #arknights #askiwi

[thosehallowedhalls]

An Interlude of Grief

Book: Crimes of Passion

Pairing: M!Trystan Thorne x Emma Rose (F!MC)

Rating: General

Word count: ~1100

Summary: Emma's having a difficult day, but Trystan won't let her go through it alone.

A/N: For @lexicook74-blog. Sorry this is late!

It’s almost nine when Emma walks into her apartment, shoulders slumped and eyes burning with exhaustion.

It’s been a grueling day.

From a difficult client (why hire a professional if you’re going to micromanage them every step of the way?) to nearly being run over by a limo (at a red light!), everything that could go wrong today has.

Of course, she thinks as invisible claws dig deeper into her heart, none of that is the actual problem.

She considers pouring herself a glass of wine, then decides against it. She simply doesn’t have the energy for movement, so she drops down on the couch, still wearing her coat, and takes a deep breath. She can do this. She can get through what’s left of this day.

At the knock on the door, she lets her head fall into her hands and groans. “Not now. Go away. Please.”

Another knock.

“I’ll take that as a no.”

Grumbling, she gets up and yanks the door open. “Trystan? What are you doing here?”

“Aren’t I welcome? My goodness, the honeymoon phase has worn off blindingly fast.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Ah. You mean the fact that you sent me home early because you had reports to finish.”

“And told you I’d be late.”

“Yes, that. You’d be late, so I shouldn’t wait for you, and you’d see me tomorrow.”

“And yet here you are.”

“Because between the reports and the excuses, you forgot to mention why you were burying yourself in work in the first place.”

Emma sighs. “Trystan…”

He takes her hand, lacing their fingers together. “Why didn’t you tell me that today’s your father’s birthday?”

“Because I was trying not to think about it.”

He gives her a skeptical look. She throws up her hands. “And because I didn’t want to make it your problem. You’ve already had to deal with more than your share of unresolved grief this year. There’s no reason why you should take mine on, too.”

“May I?”

When he gestures to the door, she sighs and steps back. “What the hell. You’re already here.”

“Nobody has ever made me feel as welcome as you, my darling detective.”

She surprises herself by snickering. “Sorry.”

“Now.” He sits on the couch and tugs her down with him. “First of all, I love you. If you’re hurting, I want to be there for you --and with you. Second, when I was reliving the worst time of my life, you were there every step of the way. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”

“Been convicted,” she reminds him helpfully. “And probably executed.”

“Yes, thank you for that. My point is that I’m here to stay. For the good and the bad. It’s not taking anything on, Emma. It’s just being here to help shoulder the load.”

Her eyes sting. “Trystan…”

“Won’t you let me? Even if I ask nicely?”

His tone is light, but the look in his eyes… this is important to him. Looking back, she thinks she understands. She wanted to be there for him too, all those weeks ago. Even so, she takes a deep breath. What she needs from him right now is difficult for her to vocalize. “Will you -- will you hold me?”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

When she sits between his legs, her back fitted to his chest, he wraps his arms around her. “Do you want to tell me about him?”

“I thought I already had.”

 “Just the gist of it. I don’t think you’ve ever talked about any specific memories.”

“Well… There’s the one of his 45th birthday. He was taking it hard.”

“Feeling old, was he?”

“And then some. He didn’t explicitly tell me, but he was making one too many jokes about the Grim Reaper breathing down his neck.”

“Oh yes, because the Reaper’s preferred demographic is people in their mid-forties.”

“I think he knew he was being silly, but he couldn’t help it. I caught him checking his hairline in the mirror.”

Trystan laughs at that. “Did he think it would magically recede in a day?”

“No mocking my late father on his birthday.”

“Sorry. How did this tragic event unfold?”

“I asked him if he wanted to watch Ghostbusters with me.” She shrugs. “It worked with me when I was sad.”

He presses a soft kiss to the side of her neck. “You’re incredibly sweet.”

She snorts. “Nobody’s ever accused me of that before.”

“Clearly everybody else just isn’t paying enough attention. I’m sure it helped him.”

“It did. Mostly because he started ranting about everything they were doing wrong.”

“You really do take after him.”

“Was there ever any doubt?”

“Not in the slightest. How did the day end?”

“Uncle Tommy came over with a bottle of Dad’s favorite whiskey, I baked my very first cake…”

“Back up. You bake?”

“Sometimes.”

“I really do love you.”

“Anyway. I think, by the time dinner came around, he was happy.”

“It sounds like a lovely birthday, all in all.”

“I think so.” Her voice breaks on the last word. “It was his last.”

He doesn’t say anything, just tightens his hold on her.

“I thought this year would be easier,” she admits. “I’m happy, I really am.”

“That doesn’t mean you’re going to stop missing him, Emma. It’s okay to grieve still.”

She huffs out a breath. “You sound like my therapist.”

“The one you saw in college?”

“Mmhmm. He had this mantra about letting myself feel all my feelings.” She shudders. “He’s a great guy, but I started breaking out in hives 48 hours before every session.”

“Yes, you’re not one to talk about your feelings.” He gives her a pointed look. “The fact that I had to all but ambush you to get you to talk this time is proof of that.”

“Hey, you made it here anyway.”

“Next time let’s skip the part where you avoid me and save time.”

“I think I can do that.”

She burrows into his chest. She can hear the steady thump of his heartbeat, feel the warmth of his body, the strength of his arms around her. And she wonders why on earth she thought she had to do this alone. “Trystan?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For being here.”

He kisses her softly. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

#trystan x emma #trystan x mc #trystan thorne #emma rose #crimes of passion #playchoices

[assortedvillainvault]

can i get a captain hook or jafar headcannon with a bubbly innocent reader ! i absolutely love your writing !

Hey! So sorry for the delay, life has had me in a chokehold. One order of Hook & Jafar with a bubbly reader coming up!

Captain Hook x Innocent!Reader

Ok so the Captain is one of those Villians where the...'villainy' for want of a better word? Isn't on display 24/7.

Actually he really loves getting to play up his gentleman tendencies, it's a nice escape from a chip full of brutes and an island full of children. So a cheerful and more innocent leaning partner is something he latches onto with delight!

FINALLY he gets to have a lovely thing on his arm who will laugh at his jokes and blush at his good manners! SMEE!! Get the good cutlery and crack out the candles, you're being treated to a candle lit dinner THIS INSTANT!!

Let! Him! Dote! On! You!

He loves that you tend to think on the lighter side and assume the best. Not only does it bring out a much more protective side of him, but the crew are extremely appreciative of the balance you're bringing to the ships atmosphere. They're violent and bad tempered, sure, but nobody wants to live on a hair trigger every day for forever - or however long they're going to be trapped on Neverland for, which is already 200+ years at this point and climbing.

There have been, instances, shall we say, where a crewmate or mermaid has been less than welcoming. It flew over your head, innocence has it's disadvantages after all, but the Captain can shoot a target over 100 yards in any direction without even bloody LOOKING, so they were short lived at best.

Being forced to pull your friends corpse out to sea does tend to put the fear of death back in one Captain James Hook.

Your laugh makes his face hurt from smiling so much. His nerves have never been so soothed.

Smee has already decided that if you ever make any moves to leave he's chaining you to the mast. Sorry not sorry, you're stuck here now. He may be the friendliest face on the ship, but you don't get to 60+ on a pirate ship without some tricks up your sleeve.

And managing Hook's fraying sanity is Smee's biggest and best trick to date.

Jafar x Innocent!Reader:

You are simultaneously Jafar's rock and his day to day grievances rolled into one.

One one had, OH you make his job so much easier. Your bright and bubbly attitude lights up the palace and distracts the Sultan from effusing any of the idiot's thoughtless noise in Jafar's general direction. Jasmine's stand offish behaviour melts away under your smile, and the servants will agree to almost anything you ask.

On the other hand, Reader PLEASE He has spent DECADES perfecting his slease, his charms, his sultry yet intimidating stalk through the halls, learning how to swish and snarl just so to get his way and now you're latched to his arm beaming and babbling away and all his carefully crafted mystique is waving goodbye on the desert winds.

When you frst met his frustration was unending. You were too innocent to catch any of the double meanings and secret overtures under his words and you would not be threatened By ALLAH WHAT does he have to do for some unease in this godamn palace?!

The worst part wasn't even that you weren't catching it. It was that he wanted you so badly to catch it. Unlike the sultan he could see the intelligence behind your eyes. You and he were so close to a real, proper, genuine connection and the lack of comprehension in your gaze made his hands itch with the urge to break you.

Of course, he couldn't do much. Hypnotism isn't as effective as you think, it only really works on people who are weak willed or already over halfway to doing what he wants.

With nothing left to do, he resorts to avoiding you. Too bad you've decided you like him and the servants are always willing to tell you where he is isn't it? Even his 'secret' lair isn't safe. Never underestimate how much the staff know, they're the ones who can hear his mad laughter at 3 in the morning through the walls.

In private he's much more willing to accept affection, especially of the physical kind. Your touch is addictive at this point, and the sensation of all your attention soley on him strokes his ego something wicked.

AndsomethigelsecoughCOUGH

Reader I will be honest...I don't think you'll be remaining innocent for very long. In any sense.

#thalassa responds #headcannons ahoy #thank you so much for the ask #disney villains #villains x reader #jafar #Captain Hook #jafar is such a strong corrupting influence and Hook just wants to put the love on his SO

[kairiscorner]

totally not the anon that requested the gift giving love language one and the beach one... no way (it was me. and u wrote them AMAZINGLY btw tysm!)

anyways, request for hcs here!!! i luv ur stuff for ben reilly and saw u write said that you write for masc reader!! sooo 👀

can i request ben reilly x masc reader who seems lowkey kind of intimidating at first but is acc super playful and lighthearted?

he's always finding something to joke abt, sneaking up from behind to scare ben, teasing him, calling him stupid nicknames (blondie being his favourite to use for ben)... that typa stuff

if not, no worries!! ty for all the writin' you've put out!!!! and omg im super sorry this was so long

– 🍰 anon <3

OMG I LOVE THAT !!! THIS IS SO CUTE, I HOPE U LOVE THIS (◡ ω ◡)

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

ben reilly x masc!reader headcanons

ben used to be pretty scared of you back then, like seeing you act all cool and intimidating made HIM want to act all cool and intimidating, but he always fell short when you effortlessly look so awesome yet scary all at the same time 😭😭😭

though when he was assigned on a mission with you, he had been so surprised to see your once cold, intimidating face become a kind and gentle one.

he had never thought that you were capable of being as sweet as you were, no wonder nobody else was as intimidated by you–you were genuinely a darling, a joy to have.

he always finds your jokes and gags funny, even your annoying little nicknames for him like 'blondie' and 'hot stuff'.

he stifles his laughter because he has to keep up his emo, melodramatic front up. he grumbles under his breath and tries telling you to shut up, but he still gets slightly intimidated by you when you're looking at him stoically.

whenever you scare him, he always screeches out a high pitched scream and nearly jumps out of his suit. he acts all angry, tells you to stop doing that, but can't stay mad at you for too long.

he pouts and folds his arms over his chest, giving you the silent treatment, but hugging him from behind and peppering kisses along the length of his neck always gets him flustered and warmed up towards you.

you love carrying him bridal style when he's injured, he complains that you're being too much of a show-off or douchebag you are for babying him, but he secretly loves every bit of it and flushes when he feels your touch.

he gets more and more in love with you whenever you act all stern to people that piss you off. he loves how your eyes narrow, your eyebrows furrow, and how your voice gets lower and huskier... he fanboys and falls for you hard when you get like this.

#ben reilly #ben reilly x reader #ben reilly x you #ben reilly x y/n #ben reilly fluff #ben reilly headcanons #atsv ben reilly #atsv #atsv fluff #atsv imagines #atsv fanfiction #atsv x reader #atsv x you #atsv x y/n #spiderverse #across the spiderverse #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman across the spiderverse fluff #spiderman across the spiderverse x reader

[taleasnewastime]

Will Zac ever call Jungkook Dad? Could this be a drabble?

Thanks for requesting and sorry this took so long! As is probably made clear this takes place after JK and reader have their own baby! Hope you enjoy :)

Word count: 600

Warnings: Worrying all round? nothing else I don't think

It’s a mistake when it happens. The world seeming to stop for everyone in the room. Everyone’s as shocked as the other, nobody knowing how to tread in case the offend someone else.

Dad.

It all started with a seemingly simple word. Muttered from a little boys lips. Innocent enough, yet Jungkook isn’t his dad.

Zac looks worried he’s said the wrong thing, his face going between you and Jungkook. You look shocked to begin only to school your features, looking to be about to spring into to full mum mode to limit the damaged control. Jungkook’s first reaction to the word is different, it took him a second to register the word, it weirdly not sounding abnormal, and then when it hit him he only felt pure joy. It was only seeing everyone’s else’s reactions when the worry seeped in, as if only realising maybe this was a bigger thing then he was making it out to be.

And then there’s Mia, your little baby girl, still at the age where you say her age in months not years. She’s the only one in the room oblivious to what’s happening, still say on her mat bashing a wooden block dangerously close to one of Zac’s favourite trucks.

Maybe she’s the reason this has all happened. Mia being the age where both you and Jungkook are trying to get her to say ‘mama’ or ‘dada’, a secret competition to somehow make it look like the little girl loves you more.

Or maybe after so long living with each other, Zac is just comfortable enough around Jungkook that the word just slipped out. Whatever it is, Jungkook doesn’t mind. In fact, whatever the reason, he’s secretly elated.

Jungkook’s the first one to speak.

“Dad?” Two pairs of worried eyes look to him, and he does his best to look calm and smiley. “Does this mean I finally get to come in for your show and tell at school?”

Zac’s lips fight to stay straight at the corners. The worry is still there but the attempt to joke by Jungkook has done something. They’ve been joking about it for a while, the fact that Zac has a parents only show and tell at school meaning Jungkook technically can’t attend.

Knowing Jungkook’s obviously fine with the slip up, Zac’s eyes instead turn to you. Jungkook watches as you try to hide your feelings behind a soft smile.

“It’s ok,” you say in that soothing tone Jungkook’s realised is reserved for Zac.

“I’m just happy you didn’t call me Grandad,” that joke at least earns a chuckle from Zac, another inside joke about how old Jungkook is.

The room goes back to a bit of normal. Zac pulls his truck safely out of Mia’s reach. You look back to the TV only half watching as you keep casting a worried eye at your children. And Jungkook just smiles at the scene even though there’s a weird tension now over the room.

“But hey,” Jungkook says, one last bid to try and prove it’s all ok. “You know I don’t mind if you want to call me dad, or Jungkook.” Zac eyes him, gives a small nod and before he can look away Jungkook adds. “If it gets Mia to say dad first though, please keep calling me it.” That seems to do it. Zac looks over at you, trying and failing to stifle a laugh. While you try and not look too fond, instead play along and joke that Zac better not work against her.

#jungkook drabble #jungkook x reader #ask #WIILYTM request

[erule]

yay!! im glad ur requests are open!! I love angst to fluff so what about stephen and the reader soulmate au!! But its like the red string of fate and the reader can see her’s is clearly connected to Stephen but his is all tangled and so he doesn’t realize it yet please and thank you!!

Red string of fate | s.s.

Pairing: Stephen Strange x fem!witch!reader

Summary: you’ve been in love with Stephen for as long as you can remember, but now that you know that he’s also your soulmate, you have to do anything that is in your power to stop his wedding.

Warnings: soulmate au, angst, fluff, Christine is the antagonist (but I love her!!), there’s a fight scene between superheroes (not really violent), mention of blood, mention of hospital, back hurt/back pain, friends to enemies to lovers kinda

Word count: 3.5K

A/N: hi! I used she/her pronouns because they were in the requests, but since there was not determined the state of the reader, I chose her to be a witch like Wanda eheh, hope you don’t mind. Also, I tried to follow the request, but I changed the narrative about the string a little bit in the story, you’ll see. Feedback is always appreciated by a writer! Hope y’all like it. Enjoy! x

Tags: thanks to @ssathoma for the request, hope you like it!

Wanda has never been more afraid of anything in her life. Monsters? She can beat them. Aliens? Not a threat. Thanos? Defeated with less power. Children? A joke. But you? The literal villain of her story. 

You’ve been walking around your room shared with Wanda for about fifteen minutes, now. You can’t make up your mind about something you just found out, but Wanda hasn’t realized it yet: you didn’t tell her and your mind was too confused to make her read it. So, tired of this situation, she sits on the bed, legs crossed, while staring at you. 

“Y/N… Y/N! Please, stop. Just talk to me. What’s this so important things that you realized?” 

You suddenly freeze in front of her, making her almost nervous. You sigh, then you show her your red string of fate, a thread that you make appear into the air with a gesture of your hand. Since you’re a witch, you can make people see it, while normally nobody can, unless they have got magic, of course. Usually, you can see the red string of fate in form of a tattoo, a birthmark or else on people’s skin, but that’s not your case: you just hide it with magic. That’s why Wanda didn’t know about your soulmate. On the other hand, you never wanted to know who this person was, so you didn’t really try to follow the string in your head, but now, you know. And this is a nightmare.  

“Do you see it?”

“Yeah, I can see the string, but… not your soulmate. Who is it?”

“That’s because his string is all entangled!” You exclaim and Wanda gulps. “Sorry. Okay, well, last night I couldn’t sleep. I was thinking about Stephen… again… and his fabulous hands touching Christine’s hair at dinner, in front of me. Disgusting. Anyway, I finally decided to untangle the string in my head, to see where it’s going, breaking the promise I made to myself when I was little: I would have found my soulmate when faith would have told me. My patience was over, Wanda. Please, tell me that you get it”.

She nods.

“I see. So, who’s the mystery man? Bucky? Loki? Zemo?”

“Worse”.

“Worse than them? Star-Lord?”

You burst into laughing.

“He’s nice. Anyway, he’s the only person I have a crush on. Perhaps, I’m even in love with him. But unfortunately, he’s dating somebody else”.

Wanda brings her hand to her mouth, shocked. Your eyes appear glossy, now. Something in her chest aches for you. 

“Y/N…”

“It’s Stephen, Wanda. Stephen is my soulmate. And he’s engaged”.

Maybe, you shouldn’t have put it into place again. Maybe, you should have let him know that you were his soulmate, but you didn’t want to change his perception of you. However, you did that after you acknowledged your feelings for him. And you couldn’t tell him either, because he’d be angry at you for using magic kind of against him. 

“You did the right thing, Y/N,” Wanda tells you, caressing your back.

“It’s hard to think that, when I’m forced to look at him getting married to somebody else,” you reply, while looking at him and Christine sitting on the couch, choosing the best decorations fot the wedding.

“I know, honey. The right thing isn’t always the easier one. But you’re a good person. Find peace in that”.

“Maybe I’m tired of being nice,” you say, then you swallow your pride, your willing of being again in your room and not there, your heart being so envy of Christine, the heat given by your feelings running through your veins and you come closer to the happy couple with your best fake smile on your lips. “Christine, Stephen told me yesterday that maybe you need some help with the cake, is that correct?”

She gives you a smile.

“Yeah, it’s true!”

“Thanks, Y/N. I have to go on a mission today, so I can’t be here to taste the cakes, but I trust you. See you later, my love,” he says to Christine, giving her a kiss on the cheek.

“My love”. Alexa, play “It should be me”. 

“Chocolate or strawberry?” Christine asks you, while you’re sitting next to her on the couch. She’s looking at the cakes on a catalogue.

“Dark chocolate,” you whisper, then you raise your voice. “Stephen loves dark chocolate”.

“Dark chocolate it is! You really seem to know him, Y/N,” she says and you nod.

“Not enough, probably,” you murmur.

“You know, I used to think that you were in love you with him and I got even jealous, because the two of you are always a really capable couple during the fights, but now I realize that you’re just a good friend of his and I’m glad that he’s got you,” she says, squeezing your hand. You smile at her, while your eyes are burning for the tears 

“Thanks, Christine”.

A stab would have done less harm.

It has been a week, since that terrible day. You can’t sleep anymore, because of this secret. Wanda told you that it would been selfish for you to confess everything to him, but what if he’s marrying the wrong person? He should know it, he should have the right to choose his path, since his string is entangled (again) and he can’t see his faith very well. The wedding is in a month. You dan’t have much time. 

So you put on some fresh clothes, then you go to the room in the compound he usually uses to study magic. He’s always working, so you’re sure that you’re gonna find him awake and here, not at home with Christine. The door is closed, so you knock and his raspy voice responds: “Open”.

But he’s not working. When you open the door, he’s wearing an unusual suit: it’s white and gold, even if his cape is always the red one. Your whole body is suffering for this, because you can’t touch him or see his on the altar, in front of you. 

“How do I look?” He asks you, turning around so you can see him better. In the mirror, your image would show him your inner secrets. “This is ridiculous, isn’t it? Wong told me to wear this stupid ancient suit, but probably I could just buy a smoking and…”

“You’re perfect,” you say and your voice, even if it’s low, echoes between the walls. He looks at you with his lips not touching one another for the surprise, like you and him. But even Thanos would know how much you’d love to touch him. 

“Thank you,” he says, smiling with just one corner of his lips. You nod. “Did you need anything?”

You. Just you.

And then, a voice in your head, maybe because of the lack of sleep, tells you to confess him the whole truth.

“I have to tell you something”.

He observe you, scanning your face, then he shakes his head.

“There’s no need”.

“Stephen, please…” you begin to say, coming closer to him.

“No, Y/N, let it go”.

“You should know it!”

“I already know,” he tells you and you stop in the middle of the room. Your eyes grow wide. He can’t know, it’s impossible. There’s no way in the world in which he can have figured or imagined it. “I know it, Y/N and I do not care”.

You swallow hard. 

“What?” You whisper. “How?”

“I saw you in my dreams, that night. You stepped into my space, so I woke up in my head and I saw you untangle the threads. I know that you’re my soulmate, but it’s not important: I fell in love with Christine and we’re gonna get married soon. That string doesn’t mean anything,” he tells you, calmly, while your heart breaks more and more at every word he says.

You’re in pieces and he doesn’t even care about that.

“Stephen, it’s magic. We believe in it more than in everything else. Love itself is a pure form of magic. How can you say something terrible like that?”

You’re fighting with the urge to scream, right now.

“You said that yourself: love is a form of magic and I fell in love with Christine. It’s as simple as that. Unless, you fell in love with me, of course. But you didn’t fall in love with me, did you?” He jokes, while adjusting his sleeve. You remain quiet, so he raises his gaze in order to look straight into your eyes. “You didn’t fall in love with me, did you?” He repeated, his tone surprised yet almost angry. A sob escapes from your lips and you immediately close your mouth with your hands. “Damn, Y/N!”

“I’m sorry, Stephen…”

“You ruined everything!” His rage could be heard by the others, now. “Why are you doing this to me? Because you needed to tell me the truth? You should have kept your stupid secret for yourself!”

“Stupid? Love is not stupid! Even if it’s unrequited!” You scream.

“You’re not my friend, you’re acting like a selfish little girl who fell in love with her classmate. Flash news: we’re not in high school anymore, Y/N!” 

“Watch your tongue, Strange,” you say, while some red sparks begin to dance around your fingers.

“Or what?” He asks you, tilting his head, but instead of seeing him angry, he seems almost… challenging, to you. As if he has been waiting for this moment for years.

You hear some steps behind you. 

“What’s happening, here?” Wanda ask.

“A magic fight? Wow! Please, let me watch!” Peter Parker exclaims.

“Nobody’s gonna fight, Peter. Right, Y/N?”

You breathe out. 

“Right”.

“You’re not invited to the wedding anymore, Y/N,” Stephen says.

“I didn’t plan to come anyway,” you lie, then you get back to bed, while your heart is still aching for him.

***

You can see that Wanda is angry in her eyes, but she has also given you the access to her mind, so you can see the fight she had this morning with Stephen.

“She’s your best friend, it’s insane that you don’t make her come to your wedding!”

“She crossed the line, Wanda. Oh and Y/N, if you’re looking at his: remember not to behave like a child with your next crush”.

“You’re being mean, now”.

“She entered in my dreams and she didn’t even apologize to me! It wasn’t fair, Wanda”.

“Love’s not fair, Strange”.

“Friendship is”.

You get out from her mind, sighing.

“He’s right, Wanda: I broke his trust. I get why he doesn’t want to be my friend anymore”.

“He’s hiding something, Y/N,” she says, while walking around your room. 

“Okay, enough, you’re looking like me now,” you joke. “What’s up?”

Wanda stops, then she looks at you, sat on the bed. You’re curious of what she’s been thinking for days.

“He seems too hurt. I observed him during the last few missions and he seemed very nervous”.

“He’s getting married in two weeks, it seems normal to me”.

“No, it’s not. Strange asked Christine to marry him one year ago and since that day, he stuck with that decision, but when he discovered that you’re his soulmate, he began to waver”.

You get up from the bed, coming closer to her.

“What are you trying to say?”

Wanda licks her lips, before she talks.

“That he’s not entirely in love with Christine”.

It’s late afternoon and you’re watching the sunset in New York, when Stephen comes down from the sky, after the two of you have defeated another monster. There was a lot of tension between you two, but you worked pretty well anyway. What you missed more was the fact that you didn’t banter like an old married couple, during the fight. Usually, that is the best part of the job. You wonder if he thought about that too.

“Everything’s under control, Y/N. We have destroyed enough buildings, today,” he jokes and you chuckle. 

“I had to contain my power, actually,” you reply. 

“Me too,” he says, then you flickers you a glance. “We should do something about this repressed rage, don’t you think? The compound is empty, if you want,” he says and you blush. “I’m talking about a fight. A little fight in the room that Doctor Banner made for us, in which our powers can’t harm anything or anybody, except for ourselves, of course”.

You stare at him, thinking, then you nod in agreement: maybe you can investigate some more on his relationship with Christine. You could even find out if she poisoned him or if she asked for help to another with in order to make him fall in love with her. Or perhaps, this is not a trick and you just can’t handle the truth: he’s really in love with her. And yeah, maybe she doesn’t care about her real soulmate or her thread is all tangled too.

The room has windowson every wall, but you can’t see your reflection on them or if there’s somebody outside. Your possible enemy can’t know where you are, but you can’t know if you really exist too. This happens because you’re forced to focus on the other person’s presence in the room. You find it ironically sad, because even in the real world, Stephen’s presence is all you care about. He’s the only one you can see in every room. 

“Are you scared, Y/N?” He asks you, while you can feel his energy running through his veins. “You’re not even looking at me”.

“I don’t have to look at you to actually see you, Stephen,” you reply with a grin, but there’s a lot of melancholy in your heart and he seems to know it. 

That’s when you catch him by surprise. You first attack causes a cut along his cheek. A trickle of blood runs down his jaw, but he doesn't seem to notice it. You leap towards him, but a bubble of energy shoots you across the room, causing you to flip backwards. At this point you start to think that he is almost angrier than you, because, unlike you, he is not holding back for real anymore.

“You’re not using your powers like you normally do in a fight. There’s no need to protect me!” He exclaims, then he comes closer to you, but you fight his punch with a shield made of red energy. 

“I’m just trying to protect myself! My powers could even destroy this room!” You reply.

“Were you protecting yourself, when you confessed your feelings for me?” He asks and you get distracted. One moment later, he pulls your back against the wall, one of the windows. 

You slide to the floor and there you remain for an endless time. You try to get up, but you can't. He may even have broken your back, for all you know.

"Stephen, I don't..."

"I was calm, you know? When I asked Christine to marry me."

"Stephen..."

"I was calm, because I knew that I would have spent the rest of my life with a good woman, who loved me and I, in some twisted way, loved her. I didn't care who was on the other side of my string and neither did she. We had found our soul mate, that was okay. Then you came along and you had to screw it up with your stupid curiosity. You might as well have found it out and kept it to yourself, I wouldn't have told you anything, but no, you had to make me knwo that too. And now I'm always restless."

"Stephen, something is wrong..."

"Sure! I can't fool Christine right now. She doesn't deserve it. I thought I was chasing a chimera, Y/N. I thought that you didn't feel anything for me, so I lied to everyone, even myself, telling myself that it was better that way, but it wasn't true. I never forgot you, Y/N. I never forgot the idea of ​​the two of us together, a mere dream that would never become real. Then you confessed everything to me and even if I was scared, it made me incredibly happy, because I was free. But I can't leave that woman on the altar, because she trusts me. Tell me this makes sense, please,” he explains, but you’re tired now and every fiber in your body is in pain.

“My back… Stephen, my back…” 

“Y/N? No, don’t close your eyes, no, Y/N… Don’t close your eyes!”

When you open your eyes again, you’re in a hospital room. The walls are white, the air is aseptic and you feel like you’re not breathing anymore. How many days have passed? Is Stephen already married to Christine? This is a nightmare come true. It can’t be.

Somebody enters in the room. You look at your right, only to see Christine. She’s not wearing any ring and you make a sigh a relief. She seems to notice that, but she doesn’t say a word about it.

“How are you?” She asks you, gently.

“Not in pain anymore, which is already something, I guess,” you joke. She gives you a smile. 

“You know, he didn’t leave your side for the entire time. Even now, he’s outside, sat on a bench, his head between his hands, thinking about you,” she says and you swallow. There’s something in her voice that makes you respect her even more. Resignation.

“I didn’t have the right to tell him…”

“No, you didn’t,” she cuts you off. You gulp. “You didn’t have the right to tell him that you were in love with him just one month before our wedding, but you did have the right to tell him about his soulmate. Why? Because he deserved to know that it was you. I wouldn’t have cared about anybody else, but when he told me that it was you, two days ago, when he brought you here, upset, everything was clear in my head: he didn’t want to know the identity of his soulmate, because he was scared that it would have been you. Because pretending to love me was easier than loving you for real,” she explains and finally, you understand the final picture. 

“I really am sorry, Christine,” you murmur anyway, because she still has to know that.

“I know, but I’m glad that this happened, because probably I wasn’t really in love with Stephen and now I can find my real soulmate, that hopefully will love me that much. He feels guilty, Y/N. Now tell him that you’re alright, because your powers and some rest healed your body,” she says, then she goes away.

Stephen enters into the room with his eyes circled in red. He swallows, then he basically runs to you, embracing you into his arms. You close your eyes, inhaling his scent, feeling at home. 

“I’m okay, Stephen. Christine said that my powers helped my body to heal,” you tell him and he nods, while caressing your back, that fortunately doesn’t hurt anymore.

“I’m sorry for all of this pain I caused you. Christine didn’t tell me why, but she doesn’t want to marry me anymore. My life is a complete mess, Y/N. Wanda says that you can put all the pieces together, but I don’t…” 

You cut him off by kissing him. It’s a sweet and brief kiss, but full of passion and love. You hope that he can feel your power running through his veins too, like you can do with him. Together, you could potentially rule the world. This is a complete soulmate thing.

“You’re forgiven, Stephen. And I’m sorry too, for sneaking into your head without you knowing. It wasn’t fair,” you say and he squeezes your hand.

“Soulmates always find each other. Maybe that’s why you did that”.

“You were my soulmate even before I knew it,” you reply with tears in your eyes and he gives you a small kiss on your forehead.

“And you were mine”.

#stephen strange x reader #doctor strange x reader #benedict cumberbatch x reader #erule's masterlist #stephen strange fluff #stephen strange x you #stephen strange angst #stephen strange x y/n #stephen strange ff #stephen strange fanfiction #stephen strange fic #stephen strange fanfic #stephen strange one shot #stephen strange blurb #stephen strange headcanon #stephen strange hc #stephen strange imagine #dr strange x you #dr strange x reader #dr strange fanfiction #stephen strange soulmate au #soulmate au

[ramayah]

pairing; eddie munson x m! reader

genre; fluff

prompts; friends-to-lovers [ " I think I'm in love you." + " You're a beaut, you know that Ed's?" + " You're so cheesy." & etc ]

includes; bruises/mentions of bleeding, short makeout sesh, love confession

w.c.; 0.4k

Eddie was falling for [name]. And hard.

And he couldn't tell why he fell so hard for the clumsy ravenette. He didn't have a single clue.

" Didn't know you cared for me so much, Ed's." [name] teased, planting the ice pack on his bruised eye as Eddie sat in front of him, grabbing his hands with a worried look in his eyes. " Stop joking around, [name]. Can you please tell me what in the fuckin' hell happened?" Eddie questioned, questioned, quickly becoming impatient with the male in front of him.

" I don't need to give you an explanation, Ed." [name] spat, yanking his hand away from Eddie's hold, looking away from his confused yet heartbroken gaze. After a few minutes of silence mixed with broken glances, [name] finally spoke in a hushed mumble.

" I was defending your honor. He kept calling you all these horrendous names and it made my blood boil." The confession was one that made Eddie's confused look in his eyes disappear, it was replaced with a love-filled gaze. " Well," Eddie started with [name]'s hands in his own, his thumb grazing over his band-aid covered knuckles. " I think the other guy looks like shit."

A smile was on evident on [name]'s face from Eddie's comment.

The male leaned in a little bit, making their faces become only inches away from each other, and without a hesitant thought in his mind, [name] pressed their lips together, his bandaged hands ghosting over the side of Eddie's face, before turning into a fist as he went back into a resting position on the bed. It felt right. It felt so right for him to kiss him, it was the perfect moment, was it not? [name] pulled away from Eddie's soft, pretty and pale lips, regret pouring over his features.

Eddie's fingers touched his lips, eyes closing and opening in either astonishment or anger, [name] truly couldn't tell.

" I thought it was a right moment —" [name] was trying to explain himself on why kissing Eddie (in the most passionate way) was a good idea, however, his explanation was cut short with Eddie slamming his lips back onto [name]'s.

It was a long yet surprising kiss, one that was sweet and passionate, one that made their hearts pound in their chest.

This is what Eddie wanted, he has wanted this for so long to the point where he'd just bottled up his emotions.

" [name], I think I'm in love you." He whispered, ghosting [name]'s lips.

" .. You're a beaut, you know that Ed's?"

His big, wild smile spread across his face in an instant, nobody had ever called him a ' beaut' before, and since you're the first? He'd never felt better.

" You're so cheesy, [name]."

[SIGNED BY— kuvijuo. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.]

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