#So I probably seem to be unable not to... In his eyes. In reality it's more like... I love touching people but

[prythiansfavoritefox]

Elain focused on her breathing, trying to steady them. 1, 2, 3. She had had the dream again. The dream that was not a dream, but an unfortunate reality she had to relive every time she fell asleep.

Her father, who had died in front of their very eyes. Her father who had been depressed and disabled for much of his life, but came back to fight for them in the end. Who had been so heartlessly murdered by the King of Hybern.

She took a shaky breath as the tears began to fall down her face. She missed her father so badly, but she could not speak to this with her sisters, who had resented him greatly. And she understood, she really did, but...it would be nice to speak to someone who truly loved him for once.

Alas, there was no one to speak to but a cold grave. Getting up, Elain brushed her hair, sweeping it into an elegant bun. She hesitated, looking at the coat in the closet before deciding she didn't have the strength to fight her need for comfort. She threw on the coat, savoring the lingering scents on it.

Nobody else appeared to be awake. Good. She wished to take this journey alone without being followed or questioned. She wasn't stupid; she knew Nuala and Cerridwen had been set on her to keep track of her movements. Well, there was little she could do to counter that. At least she could befriend them and try to get them on her side so she could gain benefits.

The entire Inner Circle would probably faint with shock if they saw that Elain had taken such a long journey on her own two feet. It's not proper for a lady to walk this far! She's too delicate to walk this much! Pahhh. They always seemed to forget that they would all be dead were it not for her killing the King of Hybern. It wasn't something she much liked to talk about because of her aversion to violence, but some days she wished to scream it so that they'd think she's actually worth something.

Hell, Cassian would be dead too were it not for her. He had lost so much blood due to the shredded wings that he had been inches away from death. Elain had used her healing powers on him, and Cassian, half-delirious with blood loss, had not realized what she'd done. Not even Elain knew how she'd done it, considering when Feyre had been bleeding and dying months later, she had been unable to summon the powers again, no matter what she did.

The only good thing about that was that Nesta had managed to save them and the Inner Circle didn't know about her raw magic, otherwise they would find a way to use her too. No, better they think her a useless silly little thing.

As she walked towards the headstone, to her surprise, she already found somebody there, kneeling beside him. For a wild moment, Elain thought that it might be Nesta. She knew she had somewhat made her peace with him recently, so it wasn't entirely out of the realm. She began to run towards her father's resting spot, crying out, "Nesta!" The person beside the grave turned around. Elain's words died in her throat.

"You're-you're not Nesta." Way to be fucking obvious, Elain. But she could hardly think with him near her. When she wasn't dreaming of her father's death and stabbing the King of Hybern, she was dreaming of him.

Well, shit. She was wearing the cloak Lucien had given her that day by the Cauldron. How embarrassing. Her face went beet red as Lucien's eyes focused on her, taking note of her bare legs and the cloak around her shoulders. Her body began to pulse everywhere from her chest to between her legs, and she knew Lucien could hear it. She clenched her hands in her dress, resisting the urge to grab him at that very moment and kiss him senseless. That would be highly inappropriate; they were at her father's grave, for god's sake.

"Elain," he said so quietly she almost didn't hear it, leaping to his feet and bowing to her. "Apologies, lady. I shall leave you to grieve in peace."

Elain grabbed his wrist as he was about to leave. How could she have forgotten? He'd known her father. He'd gone to the continent and brought him back based on her vision. "Please," she breathed. "Stay."

Lucien looked at her hand then back into her eyes. "Ok," he said slowly. He lowered himself down to the grave again, Elain going with him. They sat there in comfortable silence for some time before Elain whispered, "You knew him. My father."

"Yes, I knew Tristan. He was a good man, at least in the time I knew him," he replied. "Feyre never seemed too fond of him, though."

Elain sighed. "Feyre and Nesta never forgave him for leaving us to fend for ourselves during poverty."

"Well, I can't blame them." Elain opened her mouth to protest, but he went on. "But he'd lost his wife and could hardly walk. I don't blame him for hurting either. He tried his best, in the end, to do right by you girls."

Elain nodded. "Poor Papa. Feyre and Nesta were always snapping at him for making his little wood carvings instead of finding a way out of poverty. Perhaps if they'd been a little gentler with him, he might have..." a sigh. "Anyway, he's gone now."

Lucien squeezed her hand. "No one dies as long as their reputation lasts." Elain snorted lightly. "Are you some sort of philosopher or something?" Lucien raised his brows teasingly. "Maybe I am."

Elain couldn't resist smiling back. "What was he like? Papa. With you."

Lucien smiled reminiscently. "He was a very single-minded person. He might have only been human, yet he could command a room with his voice. Very charming, very forthright. And he couldn't shut up about you girls." He laughed. "I remember when I finally told him that we're mates, he grilled me for hours. About my birth, my occupations, my habits. Internally I was terrified of disappointing him, but at the end he just handed me a drink and said, 'You don't look quite like the man I imagined my Elain will marry, but you certainly act like the man I want her to marry.' Then he told me stories about all your childhoods for the rest of the night."

Elain beamed. That sounded a lot more like her father before their family had been lost to poverty. It made her happy that her father was able to be more like himself with someone before he'd left. "Thank you for telling me this," she murmured. "It's nice to talk to someone who knew him as I did."

Lucien inclined his head. "Happy to be of service, my lady."

Elain leaned her head against his shoulder and did not move for a long time.

Inspired by the post I saw a while ago saying Lucien visits Papa Archeron's grave!

[mrfoox]

Tor: yeah I needed to see.... If we are going to stay friends in future, I needed to see that we could spend time together without cuddles and stuff

Me trying not to laugh: okay...? (bro why didn't you literally just say so? As long as you communicate what you don't or do want me to do I'll follow the rules. I'm being a clingy bitch with you bc you allow me to be. If you say I'm not allowed to at some point, I'll listen. For me it's that simple. You could have saved us both this shit by just using your words dude)

[risuola]

INFINITY — F. READER x GOJO SATORU

When was the last time you slept? You couldn't tell, but Satoru was determined to get you to rest.

cw: slightly angsty if you squint, just idiots in love unable to communicate properly, death mentioned (the usual jjk content) — 1,3k words

a/n: i'm going through my wips, finishing them finally and posting, don't mind me ❥

“When was the last time you slept?”

Satoru’s soft voice entered your mind and brought it back to reality. You were exhausted, having no sleep for few days already. Your eyes felt heavy, your mind was foggy and as you tried to push through the fatigue, you struggled to concentrate on even the simplest tasks. Everything felt like it’s taking twice as much effort as usual and more and more often you were catching yourself at making silly mistakes that you wouldn’t normally do. It was probably the fact you were standing at the little kitchen unit in the hotel room you share with Gojo for the mission, and the cup you were trying to fill with water overflown already.

“Shit,” you cussed quietly, putting down the kettle and grabbing the roll of paper towels, knocking a bottle while you reached next to it. Of course it was open and another portion of liquid spilled all over the counter and the floor.

“Hey, whoa, I’ll deal with it,” the strongest was quick to take everything from your hands, smiling in amusement at the soft groan that escaped your mouth. “So? When did you sleep last time?”

“I don’t remember,” you grumbled, pinching the bridge of your nose. The job you had been assigned was taking everything from you and it wasn’t because it was hard. It really wasn’t much above the ordinary and your partner turns every task into a child’s play, but it was the unpredictability of the curses you were targeting that made you go without sleep for a week already. You had at most four hours of rest, broken into short naps when you just passed out and now, you were awake for 43 hours straight. It was taking a toll on your mind and body, the fatigue was like a weight on your shoulders, making your movements sluggish and your thoughts slow.

You sighed, rubbing your eyes aggressively, a desperate attempt to wipe away the foggy haze from your sight. It’s been some time since you don’t see clearly anymore, your brain was pulling tricks on you and though you couldn’t blame it for that, you also wished it to keep up for just a little longer

“Go to sleep,” Gojo told you, wiping away the water that you spilled all over the kitchen area. “I’ll deal with anything that might pop up,” he reassured, though his tone was everything but caring. He was teasing you, his playful nature and smugness fronting in his behavior as always. He wasn’t bothered by the mission, he was doing his job flawlessly and frankly, you were sent with him only to make sure people around are safe because Satoru has a habit of not caring too much about casualties.

“You know I can’t do that,” a groan from you only made the man chuckle. You were in the middle of war – it felt like it, at least – there was a plague of curses, most of them reaching first grade, day after day appearing in bigger quantities and it was straight up way too dangerous to let yourself to drift away. Last time you managed to close your eyes for a little longer than an hour, one of the demons broke into the hotel you were staying in and nearly killed you. It seemed like they were just waiting for the right moment to attack, when your guard is down and you’re vulnerable and you knew that once you fall asleep, you’re not going to wake up on time. Even if Gojo was volunteering to fight, you were convinced the moment he’d step away from you, you’d be dead. And that was the last position on your wishlist.

“I told you I’ll take care of the curses while you’re sleeping, don’t be so dense,” the strongest just shrugged, seemingly unbothered but the grin was ghosting over his lips, making you wish you could wipe it off his stupid handsome face. While you were suffering, Satoru was sleeping just fine, not caring about a thing because he didn’t need to care about being in danger when he always had a nice, protective layer of damn infinity around himself. The world could be burning and not a single spark would reach his sleeping form. Rest was a luxury he was able to afford during this mission and sadly, you couldn’t because once you’re not awake and ready to protect yourself, you’ll be swiped off the board.

“Why would you even bother, huh?” You snapped, not sparing him a look while you approached the window. The streets seemed oddly calm, now as dark as the sky above them, and you wished it would stay normal for the next hours so you would have one less thing to deal with during the night time.

Truth is, the very fact of sharing a job with Gojo is a curse in itself, one impossible to exorcise and it was taking every bit of professionalism that you had in you to just push through it. Your relation with the honored one is difficult. It’s complicated and straight up unpleasant, it seemed like you were stuck in an endless cycle of bickering. Every conversation seemed to turn into an argument, and every disagreement seemed to escalate into a full-blown fight. It was exhausting, emotionally and mentally, it was straining but no matter how many times you tried, you couldn’t manage to break the pattern and instead, you just kept going around in circles. The words you spoke to each other were getting increasingly cutting and the anger was growing with each passing day. Even when you did manage to reach a solution, it was always a matter of time before another conflict would arise and you’d be back to square one. It was as if you were trapped in a maze, with no clear path to a peaceful co-existence and that was enough reason for you to be convinced that Gojo would be the last person on earth worrying about your well-being.

“I don’t want you to die on me because of the lack of sleep, come one,” he shrugged, throwing away the wet paper towels and joining you near the window. “Rest, I’ll stay awake.”

“I’ll get myself a coffee,” you said, not convinced at all. Truth is, only few times you allowed yourself to pass out was when Satoru was awake, because you wouldn’t dare to close your eyes when he was sleeping himself, but you couldn’t trust him. And you’d feel horrible if you made him stay awake just so you can sleep.

“No, seriously, no coffee for you,” he grabbed you by the wrist and pulled towards the bed.

“Gojo, do you not understand—”

“Shhh,” he hushed, manhandling you onto the mattress, forcing your shoes off and gathering the covers to tuck you in as if you were a child.

“I hate you…” Was all you could mumble. It was a torture. The soft pillows underneath your head and warm comforter were so perfect, so inviting for you to just let yourself drift off. You wished to let the heavy eyelids down, to give your eyes the rest they need and allow your brain to reset and clear. You felt like your body was betraying you, the exhaustion was seeping into your bones, making it impossible to move.

“Yeah, yeah,” to your surprise, Gojo pushed his own boots off as well and in a moment he was in bed with you, sharing sheets and pulling you towards himself. “Now, here. You are now inside my infinity. You’re safe, sleep.”

Infinity. It felt safe, suddenly, but was it because of infinity or the man that now had his arms wrapped around you? You couldn’t tell and frankly, you couldn’t speak either, so you just hummed something in response as the sleep has taken you away.

[aluciahaz]

i love finding new authors who i can tell are good as hell at writing 😭😭 anywho,, bottom!alastor x gn!reader? I like to think he's very shy about intimacy, so perhaps gentle sex with him? (+ if you can add sensitive al :3 )

a/n— ahhh thank you!!! i try my best lmao

but im SOO SORRY THIS FIC IS like probably not completely what you asked for 😭 writing for alastor is way harder than i thought but i super tried i swear!! im just not good at writing soft fics 😭😭 i hope you enjoy it though!!

memories in this second life

— alastor x gn!reader

— includes : smut, bottom!alastor, dom!reader, very soft times, sensitive alastor

you know alastor’s mannerisms. his smile may be unwavering, but the rest of his body was not.

you can notice his nervousness from the slight twitch in his ears to the subtle change in his static, randomly increasing and lowering in small increments. it was hardly noticeable, anyone who didn’t know his static patterns would never be able to tell.

but you know.

you cup his face with a delicate kiss to his nose as a gift, making his eyes come in contact with your own gaze instead of the floor.

“nervous?” you ask, smiling gently as he melts into your touch. he gives you a nervous chuckle in response, placing his hand on top of the one on his face with similar tenderness.

“perhaps,” he says coyly, as though you can’t notice how his eyes would shift away from yours once more.

you run your other hand through the red tufts of his hair, your fingers scratching the base of his ears. soon, he pinned them back, letting you pet his hair as you pepper kisses over his slender neck.

soon, his meekness seemed to dissipate as the night continued. he was quite sensitive, whimpering at the slightest touches to his cock and practically keening from your hand, your slow strokes slowly making his voice crack like a faulty radio.

“you ready?” you ask as your fingers rest against his entrance lightly, his legs trembling in anticipation.

“as i’ll ever be, dear,” he says with a smile, only to soon weaken as a moan slips past his lips with the sudden feeling of your finger pressing inside him.

you’re delighted to see how well alastor takes it, his ears still pressing back against his head as he arches into the pillows behind him. his hands, once tearing at the blankets, made their way over his mouth, covering his lovely noises. still shy, huh?

you click your tongue in disapproval before driving your fingers to the sweet spot inside of him as you lift his hands away from his face.

his eyes fluttered open, his mouth in a surprised smile as he gasps. there was a beauty to his disheveled hair and dusted red face, but the sugar on the cream was that you could now hear his voice without him muffling it.

and for once, there was no static.

“…mind doing that again?” alastor asks quietly, feigning composure when in reality his body spoke the truth. who could ignore such a prominent blush?

you weren’t one to deny someone so sweet. so again and again, you press that spot so foreign to the man until the feeling is engrained into his mind like english on his tongue.

later on, your fingers leave, and instead you’re the one moving inside of him, his legs wrapping around you with one hand clawing at the unfortunate sheets below him, the other intertwined with your own in a loving embrace.

“how does it feel?” you ask between breaths, looking down at your lover below you. you can’t hide the amused smile on your face as you watch him tremble underneath you, unable speak without a whine slipping between his words.

“good—ah, good—!” his cries were his voice, not the radio demon’s, no, just alastor’s. the static that accompanied his speech had become so normal that you barely ever noticed anymore, but with it gone, you can really appreciate his sweet tone. the way he says your name with such need, how he cries at each slow thrust.

this voice in particular was made for your ears, not radio.

“ha—close, darling, close—!” he moans, wanton and desperate for release. but more importantly, you. your lips taste like love, and your hand feels like bliss. it was overwhelming, this feeling, but so right at the same time.

soon, with a stuttered wail, he finally finishes, his eyes briefly rolling back in ecstasy. your other hand feels his tighten around yours like he was scared of letting you go, and you squeeze it back in assurance.

“i’m here, i’m here…” you whisper, your strokes around his cock slowing down as you let him come down from his high. his back falls back down to the mattress from its arched state as he tries to compose his thoughts. you try to pull out, only to be stopped with a hand on your shoulder and a shake of the head from your lover beneath you.

you kiss his forehead, chuckling at his behavior. “how was it?” you murmur, brushing his hair out of his eyes.

he glances up at you for a brief moment.

“…quite nice, actually.”

his words are practically inaudible as he speaks, still trying to steady his breathing.

the two of you stay like that for awhile, engulfed in each other’s presence as you quietly chatter about meaningless things, yet filled with mutual love. brief moments like this were truly precious, and both of you held it dear to your hearts even when the night closed your eyes and morning opens them.

welcoming the both of you to a new day to create more memories in this second life.

a/n — sorry that this isn’t that creative??? i couldnt think of any good metaphors or similes like my last fic 💀 also apologies for it being so long as well, i kind of got off track 😭

— tags : @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for putting a hit out on an ex friend’s dnd character?

A few years ago I [M 18] was the link between two different online friend circles along with my longtime friend A [M 22]. Essentially, both A and I ran two different dnd campaigns that acted as a melting pot between our two friend groups. It was really fun, super casual stuff. Enter C [M 19], who was originally one of my friends and played in both groups. Over time it became clear that C was, to put it lightly, not a great person. At the time, I was a really new DM and struggled a lot with my self confidence. C was a super disruptive player in my group, going off the rails and generally trying to undermine both me and other players. I tried to sort it out between sessions, but it didn’t end up working out. It came to a head where I ended up shutting down my campaign, claiming school got to be too much, but in reality I just couldn’t deal with C’s behaviour. It was a really big blow to my self confidence at the time.

At this point a lot of people had been cutting out C for various other things like this - generally being disrespectful and callous, not taking responsibility for harm he caused, etc. Pretty soon the only times I was interacting with C directly was during A’s campaign.

A, who wasn’t 100% aware of the situation, came and talked to me after a session one day about why I’d shut down my campaign, and I told him everything about how I was feeling. He was really understanding, and said that he got the feeling that I probably didn’t want C around anymore, and neither did he. I agreed, so A offered to ‘sort out some stuff with C’s character’ and shuffle him out of the group. I made a joke about wanting C’s character to die, in a pretty flippant way, and the conversation diverted.

This is where things get kind of weird.

So, at the time, I was expecting A to just talk with C and kick him out of the group in between sessions, but that didn’t end up happening. C was at the next session just as planned, and continued to show up for several weeks. During this time A, and I really don’t know how else to describe this, pulled some Machiavellian scheme on C’s character as the DM to ruin his life. A wove in this story where C’s character got this evil mask shard of a dead god, and played on C’s want to sabotage other players & go his own way in a very ‘lone rogue’ way to isolate him from the group and get him involved in all these evil deeds (killing minor npcs, etc). None of our characters knew about this in character, but A dropped all these hints and the context lined up to make it seem like C’s character was slowly going insane. C, unable to communicate in or out of character, backed up this idea by refusing to talk about the god IC or OOC. Eventually this god fragment lead to the death of C’s character when an overpowered assassin struck him down, in a fight that felt very ‘well this could’ve been a party boss but because you didn’t tell anyone, you died’. Immediately following this the party found out about C’s character’s evil deeds, meaning he wouldn’t be mourned by the party. The whole death felt so… hollow. It really felt like C had ended up in this situation because of their own hubris. But they hadn’t.

A had masterminded the whole thing. He’d given me live updates about his plan to essentially manufacture a situation where C’s character died a miserable death that felt totally deserved in the eyes of the other party members. And then we all just blocked C anyway???

I’ve never seen someone manipulate somebody like that in my life before and I’ve never seen anything like it again. I’ve never told anyone else in the group that the death was masterminded by A because of my petty grudge about my failed campaign. I don’t speak to either A or C now but I still feel bad about not doing something. Should I have just told A to kick C way before this?? I had no clue it would spiral into actual months of chess mastering his demise!!

What are these acronyms?

[redbleedingrose]

Warm

Azriel x Reader

A/N: Just a cute little Drabble for Azriel bc I miss him and love him and he is so sweet to his mate. He deserves the world, and all the good things (even tho he is a major slut).

The winter nights of Valeries are some of your favorite nights of the year. The lights that are hung along the shops and townhomes which sparkle like stars in the night sky, the never ending laughter of children and quiet chatter of the people roaming to find gifts for their loved ones, it makes for something found only in stories. But here it is, your reality. The icy wind brushes alongside of your home, once built by your mates bare hands with the help of his brothers, an homage to his dedication to you. He is out with said brothers, has been all day, busy with their so-called annual snow ball fight.

You can’t help but wonder as you smile to yourself, humming while stirring the cream and melting chocolate on the fire stove, if your mate was named champion of this years battle. He has been for the past six years, prior to that, Rhysand had won, the year him and Feyre found each other. Smug bastard probably was trying to show off to his newly named bride.

Your eyes crinkle, thinking of how Azriel won the snow ball fight each year for almost a decade after you were officially mated. Poor Cassian really struggled with his pride for a while, the Illyrian baby whined every chance he could get, earning a pitiful kiss on the cheek for his grand efforts from you with Azriel glaring hotly at his brother from across the table. A tiny giggle escapes you while you reminisce, the shadowsinger of course earned his own reward, something far more… heated in the cold winter nights that left you rather… well- unable to walk in the next morning.

The whispers of Az’s shadows stroke across your bare skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake, gliding up your arms and through your hair, whisping and playing with the loose strands falling out of your braid. A firm arm wraps around your waist, while the other arm settles onto the counter in front of you, scarred hand flexing as it grips the edge. Kisses, soft and sweet, pressing into the side of your head, behind your ear, peppered onto your neck and at the crevice of your shoulder, into your hair and on the side of your forehead, blissfully sliding right onto your cheek and down with a gentle bite to your jaw that leaves you gasping for air. The arm around you tightens, good thing too- the rough, raspy voice from your mate behind you has you weak in the knees, “Guess who won, my beautiful, gorgeous, brilliant, sexy wife?”

The shadowsinger’s front is completely flush against your back, you can almost hear the smirk forming on his pretty lips, regardless, you can feel the curve of his cheek against yours as his warm hand stroke up and down your side. From the corner of your eye, you can see his grip on the counter tightening as he takes in your scent, no doubt muddled with the hot chocolate you were making for him. Licking your lips, you quickly turn your head to the side and plant a wet kiss to his cheek before turning back to the pot before you, not wanting to burn the drink you spent so long trying to make for your presumptive winner.

Impatient is not a word you would use to describe your mate in most scenarios. However… it seems the spymaster cannot wait for his prize, forcing you to turn around with heady, half lidded, beautiful hazel eyes focusing on your lips. “The hot chocolate Az-“ a kiss lands onto your lips, fast and hard, warm hands cupping your cheeks and pulling you in closer, “Forget the damn chocolate.”

Your laughter interrupts his kisses, but the stubborn male continues with teeth gnashing and tongues barely intertwining, “I spent a while making it for you shadow boy.” He huffs, pulling you closer, tilting your head back so the expanse of your neck is exposed.

“Is-“ Kiss.

“That-“ Kiss.

“So?” Kiss.

His own smile lilts as you hum, running your hands up his forearms, holding his wrists in place, squeezing them with each kiss he lands on you. “C’mon Azzie,” brushing the tip of your nose against his when he finally faces you with that gentle look that is specifically reserved for you. You grin up at your mate, humor racing through you until glints of mischief flicker in your eyes, “S’okay baby, Cassian had to win at some point. It’s okay to lose, you are always the winner in my heart.”

The “heart” is barely audible through your cackles and grunts, Azriel throwing you over his shoulder and carrying you towards your bedroom. A swift smack to your ass has you squealing, “Azriel!” The Shadowboy ignores you of course, biting at the rounded flesh before tossing you onto the bed. Your heart skips once, twice, three times as he pushes the fabric of your dress up to your waist leaving you utterly exposed and heated all over despite the night chill, his playful growl sparking your bond with need and love, “I think it’s time to receive my prize for winning, don’t you think my mate?”

Anyway… that is not what I expected for this fic to be, but it is where it ended up so I hope you enjoyed!

Masterlist

[theemporium]

based of this request!🫶🏽

.

Max deemed it was only fair that he shared some of his childhood experiences with you after the countless ones you shared with him.

You were all up for it until you realised it was karting.

At first, you were hesitant because of the ties it connected to in his past. You thought about the countless stories he told you about being a young boy, crying and desperate to please his father who seemed to have impossibly high expectations of his son. 

But then you remembered that it was his childhood. That this was something he wanted to share with you, that he wanted to experience with you like the way you had shown him countless experiences for the first time. And you couldn’t find it in your heart to say no to him when he asked with those puppy dog eyes. 

However, by the time you got into the karts, you were met with a pretty harsh reality. 

You were absolutely shit at karting. 

You thought Max would get a bit annoyed and impatient. After all, he was five years old and doing this with ease. And here you were, almost two decades older and unable to even go around the track once without crashing into something. 

But when you got out the kart after the first round, Max took off his helmet before coming to help you with yours, and he had a massive grin on his face. 

“You’re not annoyed by how shit I am?” You asked him, almost warily as you took his hand to help pull yourself out of the kart. 

“Why would I be annoyed?” He asked, his brows furrowed in confusion. “It’s cute.” 

You raised your brows. “It’s cute seeing me crash?” 

“It’s cute seeing you get so frustrated at not being automatically good at something,” he corrected with a cheeky grin. 

“Ha ha,” you deadpanned. 

However, between glaring at the kart and trying to listen to the tips Max was giving you, you seemed to miss the small child standing a few feet away. He was young, probably no older than six or seven years old. And he was staring at Max with wide, eager eyes, listening to every single word that left his mouth. 

Max paused when he noticed the young boy, a small smile on his lips. However, the boy looked sheepish and embarrassed, and quickly turned around to try to run off. 

“Hey, little guy,” Max crouched down, nodding the kid over. 

“I’m sorry!” The young boy blurted out, fiddling with the straps of his small race suit. “I just…I wanted to know how you did that.” 

Max raised his brows. “How I won?” 

The kid nodded and something in his chest tightened, in a good way. In a way he wasn’t really used. 

Despite the short-temper Max tended to have on track and with people in general, he had the patience of the saint as he kneeled next to the boy’s kart and began talking away to him. He gave him tips and tricks, told him little mottos that helped him before a race. 

It was a light you had never seen Max in before and it warmed your heart. 

By the time you made it on the track for the second time that day, and even though it was purely on purpose (by Max, at least. You couldn’t say the same with yourself, you truly were quite shit behind the wheel), the young boy had won. 

He was grinning ear to ear when you made your way to the makeshift podium, standing proudly on the top step as he shook the bottle of fizzy juice until it sprayed everywhere. Max was smiling just as hard as the young boy. A smile that only grew when the boy launched himself at Max into a hug to say thank you. 

Your boyfriend was still buzzing by the time you made it to the car. The track was a decent drive away, and with the day finally taking its toll on you, you were happy to close your eyes and lean your head against the window as you listened to your boyfriend ramble on about the day. 

Until he said something that made your eyes snap open. 

“I think if our kids ever kart, I think I’d wanna be pretty hands on, you know?”

You froze, unsure if you even heard him correctly. You opened your eyes, turning to look at him, but his eyes were still on the road as he spoke. However, when you remained silent, he finally glanced over and noted the expression on your face.

“What?” He murmured before frowning. “I don’t mean like my dad…if that’s what you thought. I just meant like—” 

His hands gripped the wheel as he faced forward again, trying to find the words to speak but they were a stuttering mess. 

But that wasn’t what caught you off guard. It was his use of our. Not my, but our.

Our kids.

Your relationship with Max was still in the early stages, though there were the months of friendship that stood as a solid foundation of your relationship. And maybe it should have scared you that he was talking about kids so soon, that he was talking about your kids so soon, but it warmed your heart. 

You imagined the young boy at the race track once again, except this time he was the perfect mix of you and Max. Maybe your skin tone and his nose. Or your smile and his eyes. Something that was a little bit of both of you. Or maybe even a young girl, one that Max would treat like his absolute princess. 

You found that if that was your future, you didn’t mind it one bit.

“I think you’ll be a great father and teacher,” you said eventually, interrupting his stuttered rambles. 

Something on his expression eased as he turned to you again, a small smile on his face. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you smiled back. “And hopefully the kid has more of your genes than mine when they want to race.”

Max snorted. “If they want to race.”

“If they want to race,” you agreed with a nod.

And maybe both of your dreams that night were spent imagining a world with the two of you and your mini-me at the race track, matching helmets with their father and cheers from their mother.

.

[alxtiny]

You like me? | Song Mingi x reader

Synopsis: where you confess you feelings to mingi unintentionally

Pairing: Song Mingi x gn!reader, college au

Genre: fluff, crack?

Word count: 0.7k

Warnings: none :)

Notes: Happy Valentines day to all the other lonely souls like me, I hope this makes a part of your day better

masterlist

In the quiet corners of the university library, you found solace among the shelves of books and the gentle hum of whispered conversations. Seated across from your best friend Yuri, you couldn't contain the excitement bubbling within you.

"He's just... so unbelievably pretty, Yuri," you sighed, your eyes glazing over with admiration. "I mean, have you seen the way he concentrates on his music? It's like watching magic unfold." you exclaimed, throwing your hands up in exasperation.

Yuri chuckled, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "Ah, yes of course the infamous Mingi I’ve been hearing about so much these days. I see your crush has reached legendary status."

You opened your mouth to protest, but before you could utter a word, she continued. "You know, if he likes you back, then it wouldn't be wrong for you to make some moves on this guy, right?" She grinned mischievously. Letting out a groan you slumped forward, resting your chin on your pile of books, “What am I gonna do, he’s infuriatingly difficult to decipher.”

Smiling at you fondly, Yuri placed her hand gently on yours. "Come now Song Mingi can’t be that hard to figure out. He seems like a nice guy."

Shaking your head at your best friend, you let out a sigh.

“You're probably right, but his cryptic words are giving me headaches. I don’t even understand half of the stuff he talks about whenever we’ve talked before. Plus, he hasn't shown any signs of liking me.”

"And he’s always so focused on what he does to even notice me properly. Did you know he’s a music production and sound engineering major, Yuri," you continued, animatedly gesturing with your hands. "Apparently he gets the best grades in his year. He must really be talented. I like him so much it hurts at this point.”

As you ranted about Mingi's talents and irresistible charm, Yuri's gaze shifted over your shoulder. Her expression changed from amusement to shock. With the sudden shift in her face, you followed her line of sight to find Mingi standing there, clad in his usual dark glasses and with his unruly hair sticking out at weird angles, it all made him look so endearing to you.

In one hand, he held a sleek midi keyboard, and in the other, a small bouquet of flowers. Your eyes widened, and you could feel the heat rising to your cheeks as Mingi spoke in his soft voice, "You like me?"

You were brought back to reality, caught off guard by his sudden questioning. Stuttering slightly, you managed to nod and confess, "Uh, y-yeah?." His lips quirked upwards and you could see the pink tinting the tips of his ears. His shy smile made you want to kiss him senseless, but your legs suddenly felt very weak.

A mischievous glint appeared in Mingi's eyes, and he grinned. "Well, then I guess you won't say no to the date I was gonna ask you on." Without waiting for an answer, he placed the bouquet of roses in front of you, and placed his own instrument down on the table next to you.

Your heart fluttered uncontrollably, and you smiled back at him sweetly. A genuine smile that reached deep into your chest and caused your heart to swell with happiness. Your friend watched on curiously, smiling brightly as she watched your painfully shy ass interact with Mingi.

"I was hoping you could spare some time tonight so i could show you my work, since last time we talked you said you wanted to hear it,” a blush crept up his neck and face, “Of course if you’re busy, I understand,” he said gesturing to your books.

A shy smile spread across your face as you giggled and, unable to resist, leaned in to kiss his cheek. Yuri, still in shock, watched as her ultimate ship came true before her eyes.

Mingi's eyes sparkled even more, his face becoming the embodiment of the 🥺 emoji. "Is that a yes??"

You nodded, your heart pounding with excitement. "Absolutely, Mingi. I'd love to go on a date with you."

Yuri finally snapped out of her initial surprise and clapped her hands in glee. "Finally! My ship has started sailing!!" She looked at you with dreamy eyes like a little child who had been given candy as you and Mingi simply laughed at her expression

© alxtiny . Do not steal, plagiarise, translate, repost, or use my works on any platform in any way.

Send an ask or a message to be added to taglist

DISCLAIMER: THIS IS PURE FICTION AND NOT RELATED TO THE MEMBERS OF ATEEZ IN REAL LIFE PLEASE DO NOT TAKE IT SERIOUSLY

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[yxami]

Lawrence part 2, trying to write silly stuff to get my brain started

desc: yandere victim yandere x kidnapper reader, gn reader, male yandere, slight nsfw, is it stockhold syndrome if he was dreaming abt it b4 it happened?

Lawrence:

You cupped Lawrence’s cheek, gliding your hands across his smooth silky skin before he gasps at the soft touch. Unable to move, too anxious to move himself away from his crush, call it stockholm syndrome, manipulation, whatever, but there was no way he would reject your advances after so much anticipation. He’s been waiting too long to pass up on you finally reciprocating his feelings.

Well, what he thought was reciprocating but was actually a tactic to get him talking about when his parents would transfer the 500k into your account.

Something that would never actually happen.

Not with your victim begging his parents to let him stay longer. He had managed to convince his parents that he was fine and that you were his possessive friend who wanted to have a few sleepovers back to back. You wouldn’t have known about him even having a second phone until you saw him tweeting about how hard he’s crushing on someone.

That someone being you. You knew it from day one. You should’ve known having him tied in a chair, being teased for information would only cause this delusional fucker to love you even more. He’s still slightly convinced that you’re just a nervous wreck trying to mask your intentions instead of the reality of him being genuinely kidnapped for ransom.

“Ren, tell me, when are they going to give me the money so I can finally release you?” You rubbed his thigh, trying to pretend you hadn’t seen how tighter his pants looked in the matter of seconds, just ignore the forming dark spot, that’s not important!

“I Mmph- um..” He babbled, voice cracking as he tried to form his words, only for them to come out incoherent with his glassy eyes staring up at you. “I dunno..”

“I know your parents have that kind of money, why aren’t they giving it? Hmm?” You asked once more, wondering what it would take for him to spill the truth, maybe you’d have to actually take it as far as to touch the guy. He seemed excited enough already, judging by how his legs opened up a fraction at you rubbing his inner thighs, as if his body was instinctively revealing itself for you.

“Maybe they’re busy?? Ah— please please” He pleaded, unsure of what he was begging for. It could’ve been asking you to run your hand more across his inner thigh and bulge, or for you to keep speaking to him while he’s in this drunk haze of being addicted to your touch, to you, to everything.

“What would they be busy with? Too busy to think about their dear son? I know you’re spoiled, just look at you” You unintentionally spat your words with slight venom, being envious of what riches he grew up with, so much so that he’d have trouble seeing the struggles you grew up with.

Your fingers firmly wrapped at his jaw, turning his head to see the sides of his face, seeing how the blush poured over every area that you managed to affect.

A surprised whimper escape from his lips, causing him to try to pull his face away, he doesn’t think he can handle anymore teasing, grabbing and you pulling on area you’d like, treating him like he’s yours and only yours to play with. God this is hotter than he expected, a little too much to handle, and yet he still can’t help himself to blurt out stupid things to get you to overwhelm him more than you already have.

He should be chastised for liking this so much, but this was written in every page of his book, getting tied and bound by you, interrogating him with no chance to get away, you might as well propose because he will soon!!

“They’re p-probably distracted with work so.. they haven’t noticed?” Lawrence hates being in-genuine with you, but he has to. He doesn’t want you kicking him out for lying through his teeth about something like this. It’s just a simple switch of the words, you’ll understand soon enough right?

You glanced at his phone, practically teleporting across the room, why didn’t you just search his phone? There was no need for you to be asking him if he just unlocked it!

“Um.. I can’t do that” He pushed his bottom lip out into a contemplating expression, he’s never declined anything you wanted but he has to right now. He doesn’t want you finding out the texts that he sent to his parents, you’d definitely get mad!

“Why?” You glared at him, leaning close so he could see your hatred for his defiance. Especially after he’s been so cooperative with giving you all the information you needed, yet suddenly when it comes to the money and contacting his parents he refuses to?

It makes no sense!

Why wouldn’t he— The realization finally hit you. He’s been telling you answer since the start. He’s in love with you and the idea of being kidnapped, of course he wouldn’t fucking tell his parents. He must’ve said something to them when he had his second phone. This is why they haven’t contacted you in a week!

So what now, you were stuck with this pervert?? You wanted the money but not enough to stay by him for as long as he wanted. Maybe you should find someone else and let him go. How unlucky were you to get this guy as your first victim.

“I’m sorry.. please don’t ignore me” Lawrence whispered out, looking up at you with that familiar look in his eyes. The sight that expressed a love sick look even if you were right in front of him. “I wanna tell you!! But you’ll be upset and I don’t want you to be mad” He whined, leaning towards you with a sorrow filled look.

His looks were convincing, you hated it but his adorable pout and expressions were never feigned!

“You texted them didn’t you? Probably something like you were fine and to not send anything?” You exhaled, no longer in the mood to get mad. You had no clue that was even possible.

“Mm…” He whined, looking at you, then at his hands that anxiously fiddled with each other, his eyes would flicker at you and then to the other. He wasn’t too sure if he should just spill it or not but ultimately he decided to obey. “Yeah.. I’m sorry” His frown increasing with tears that welled up in his eyes, causing them to be more shiny and pitiful than usual.

“God, I don’t know what I’m even gonna do with you, at this point I don’t even think I need you tied up” You mumbled your last sentence, deciding to test it out by untying him. It would probably be better if he ended up faking that he saw this situation in a red heart shaped glasses type of way.

“Huh? You’re untying me? N—No! Please don’t let me go, I don’t want to go back at least not right now” Tears streamed down Ren’s face, clearing showing he wasn’t ready to leave now. He was already on the verge of sobbing as he clung onto you.

You opened your mouth to tell him something along of the lines that you weren’t doing that but you couldn’t help but want to see if he was being real about wanting to stay so badly. Surely it was just a simple scenario that would be crushed once he realized the severity of it?

“Please..? I’m sorry I disobeyed you” His doe eyes forcefully making eyecontact with you, refusing to look away as if you’d punish him for doing so. “Just give me another chance? I swear I’ll be so good for you..” His whiny tone more evident while his bottom lip quivered, sniffling as he kept his arms around you.

“I was just untying you, you can leave if you want but you obviously don’t.. so just do whatever you want” You sort of mumbled, what were you supposed to do after testing him? It’s not like you could call his parents and tell them to pick up their son that refused to leave. He could snitch you out if he was mad enough anyways.

But his infatuated stare that you could feel burning holes in the back of your head said otherwise.

While you stepped up the stairs you were too lost in thought to hear his hesitant steps after yours. He pondering whether to follow you or not but he didn’t want you to leave his sight so he did. Maybe you’d let him roam around the house now, the only time you ‘technically’ let him was when he had to go to the bathroom.

“Um.. I can try cooking and cleaning the house while you work, will that convince you?” Lawrence followed close, on your tail while he wrapped his hands together, he wanted to hold onto you for comfort but grabbed his arm that reached out for you before you notice he tried.

“Convince me how?” You leaned against your kitchen counter, your palms resting right at the edge while your lower back pressed against it too, your calm demeanor only made him more comfortable that you were his kidnapper. If you were someone different, they would’ve never let him up here let alone speak to him like this. In such a friendly yet commanding tone..

“That I’m loyal! I’ll try to convince you that I’m good and how I can provide things for you!” He perked up at the chance to prove himself, you could see his eyes light up because of it. “Um.. but it can’t be money yet because I haven’t gotten my allowance and I don’t think my parents would give me 500k out of nowhere” He had an apologetic demeanor while looking at the floor, hoping his honesty helped with the situation.

You hummed in a approving tone, opening your fridge to look for something to snack on, or brunch if possible. Chinese left overs? Eggs with bacon if you wanted, or instant noodle soup if you weren’t in the mood to cook. Those were the only options that seemed appetizing.

“Can I help cook breakfast?” Lawrence stood behind the fridge door, towering over you while he leaned to see what you were observing. You turned your head up, seeing the unfamiliar sight of him facing down at you instead of the opposite where he’d sit in a chair and stare up.

“Yeah sure, grab a big pan while I get some of the stuff we need” You pointed, a little dazed at trying to get used to this new found roommate, at least for now, until you found a solution.

If only you knew this would be a permanent solution, at least until Lawrence decided to terminate this unspoken contract. You should’ve known it was sealed by the blush on his face after your approval to him proving his worth! Now, he has all the freedom to impress you that he’s a worthy husband roommate!

[un-lawliet]

“Present.”

— in which Dazai wants to kiss you

part two here <3

“Osamu…”

Dazai lifted his gaze, his eyes narrowing at your figure.

It was cold.

The Summer, having prolonged its stay, pliantly welcomed the first cool breeze of Autumn, inviting the ember shafts of the moon a little earlier, cutting the day shorter and introducing the night before the clock struck nine.

And Yokohama appeared to come alive at night.

The streets bustled with crowds, lively and impeached with an alacrity one would expect to see when the sun was much, much higher in the sky.

Dazai found himself outside the Lupin Bar, leaving a half empty glass of sake idle on the cracked confines of the bar top, the crisp air steadying his somewhat dizzy state, un-fogging his senses and clearing his head.

Leaning against the bar wall, his hands in his pockets, an indiscernible look in his eyes as he watched the ever moving city around him.

It was moments like this when you knew his mind was elsewhere, reminiscing over memories in which you did not know, memories that left you except and puzzling over the glimmer of recognition in the depths of his eye.

Breaking his trance he regarded you with quiet solidarity, as if debating weither or not he should throw up his defences or continue to stare, an eyebrow raised in subdued acknowledgment of your appearance.

He didn’t seem shocked at your return, having been on a mission at the other side of Yokohama for a few days, you feel a sickly indulgence of disappointment in his lack of reaction, your shoulders dropping as you approach him slowly.

He probably knew of your return, he has a habit of knowing seemingly every action and it’s equal reaction before they are even taken, it’s a habit that leaves you uneasy at best, and terrified at worst.

Sighing, you join him against the Bar, leaning your head back against the bumpy surface of the wall.

He looks at you for a moment longer, and it’s as if you can feel him back away, creating an insurmountable distance between the pair of you.

In reality, you know he does not move, but at the sight of an ill placed smile stretching his face, you have never felt so immeasurably far from him.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” He grins, and it’s ugly for a man so devastatingly beautiful in your eyes, you hold back a grimace.

“I’m back.” You say simply, unable to look at him anymore, the footpath suddenly becoming the most interesting thing you’d ever seen before.

A street lamp flickers, the light momentarily dies leaving the pair of you in the dark for a split second before the light returns, Dazai glances upwards to look at it, you don’t even notice.

You don’t know why you even sought him out, your feet seeming to move on their own after Kunikida grumbled that Dazai had headed to Lupin’s Bar just after his shift at the agency.

You have a gift for him from your mission, you tell yourself, attempting to justify your foolish actions, ignoring the voice in your head that reminds you that you would have seen Dazai at the agency at some point the following day.

“You’re back.” He mimics, and he’s back to looking at you again, trying to understand your actions, trying to comprehend why you were currently standing outside in the cold, cold night with him.

“The mission was successful then I suppose?” His smile seemed less indulgent now, and if you were to look up you would surely notice how his body swayed slightly, a testimony to the tipsy feeling resonating in his chest.

You don’t however, your eyes staying downcast as you nod; mumbling about how it was more boring that anything, you hear him laugh at your admission, you hate how empty it sounded.

“Is everyone at the agency ok?” You ponder, clinging to the tail ends of a conversation you were slowly losing.

“You didn’t visit them before you came to see me?” Dazai questions an undeniable tease in his voice, you feel yourself flush.

“I did, it’s how I-” Found out you were here.

The words die on your tongue, refusing to go into detail of how you actively asked for his whereabouts about five minutes into your return.

“Hm?” Dazai coaxes you, although you’re certain he knew what you were about to confess.

“Nothing.” You mumble, your hands clammy, “I uh did, but I only saw Kunikida and Yosano so..” You trail off.

“Ah” He muses.

And in the back of his mind, he wonders if you were simply here because you felt like it, that you had no alterier motives, internally frowning at himself for his suspicions despite knowing you were part of the ADA, critiquing himself silently for falling into old habits that should have died when he left the mafia.

He supposes that maybe you just wanted to see him.

The breeze falls over you both and he’s moving to leave, you look at him again, your head cocked, holding yourself back from questioning, restraining yourself from clinging onto his hand and begging to follow him, indulging yourself in the warmth of other human.

The bar door opens, and for a brief moment you hear the drunken giggles and exclamations of careless patrons, before the door swings shut again, muffling the voices. It grounds you.

Dazai takes a few steps and then turns to face you, his face unreadable, before he tilts his head gesturing for you to follow him, you think your heart soars.

“You coming?”

And you’re pushing yourself away from the wall, nodding.

He doesn’t wait for you to catch up, and you find yourself walking at a pace slightly behind him, your hand subconsciously tracing the box in your pocket.

You wonder if you should give him his gift now, or if you should wait.

When you can’t decided you stay silent, choosing to speed up to level the distance between you both.

You have no idea where you’re going, simply following a man who’s actions you couldn’t begin to understand. He makes no effort to inform you of the destination and so you make no effort to ask.

Dazai likes to think when he walks, constantly scheming, devising ways in which he could encourage Atshushi to grow, or better yet, another way to end his life, and fail, over and over again.

A bitter cycle that infringes upon his thoughts like a bullet.

Tonight however, his thoughts circle back to you, and your silence, and how your face seems to glow in the dim light of the night. And he blames the alcohol that’s coursing through his blood, the last of his drink finally hitting him as he walks, dizzying him and rendering him in a state of concealed vulnerability.

“So.” His voice comes out steady, despite his tendency to slur his sentences when under the influence.

You look at him, gently urging him to continue.

“You’re hiding something.” He states, and you curse him for his intellect and damn observation.

You grip your coat tighter, eyeing the bulge in your pocket, defeat already coaxing you to reveal your intentions.

“I suppose.” You whisper, concluding to yourself that there was really no reason to hide the present from him, after all it was just a gift shared between two work colleagues, there was no need to plaster it with a hidden agenda.

Reaching into your pocket you timidly lift it out, his gift was wrapped, just like everyone’s gift from the agency, a pretty ribbon tying it all together in a clumsy bow. You feel foolish.

“I brought you something from my mission.” You explain, your eyes trained on his face.

And Dazai pauses, his steps slowing to a stop as he stares at the box in your hand, and you scramble to explain yourself, eyes wide.

“I-I got everyone from the agency something!” You stammered, “I just…wanted to give it to you.”

He doesn’t move for a second, his eyes moving between your flustered face and the present.

A car drives past, it’s headlights cause you to blink.

“Do you plan on giving them their presents in such an intimate manner as well?” His voice was softer, as if he himself is unsure of your answer.

His question makes you freeze, feeling as if you were caught in your own actions.

You whisper a tiny “No” and Dazai just nods.

And you hate how you don’t understand.

His hand brushes yours as he picks up the box, his hands are cold, you try not to shiver under his calculating gaze.

“You don’t have to open it now.” You mumble, willing yourself to look him in his eye.

Truthfully you hope he doesn’t open it in front of you, unable to cope with the silent weight of the consequences to your actions.

Dazai finally breaks eye contact to look at the bow, his finger going up to play with the flimsy material.

You brought him something, you had thought of him. Dazai, was unable to fathom how you could be so pure and act so well intentioned to someone with his past.

Did you not believe him to cruel? A man desperately trying to patch over his history with the excuse that he had changed. Changed from the eighteen year old who’s presence struck fear in those unfortunate enough to know his name. Who’s presence alone caused the death of the only person who-

Bitterly, he reminds himself that you had thought of everyone at the ADA.

Without a word he pockets the gift, that same ugly smile rippling his features yet again.

“How kind of you to think of me!” He exclaims, his voice far too loud for the quietness of the gesture, clapping his hands together in an enthusiastic display of himself.

The distance between the pair of you stretched for miles and you shake your head.

“I think about you plenty.” Your voice is hushed, edging on exasperated, because (although you would rather die than describe your complicated feelings for Osamu Dazai out-loud) you don’t appreciate being pushed away.

The moon appears to hide behind the clouds, leaving the street lights to fend for themselves. Their glow emphasising your features as he looks at you.

And Dazai wants to kiss you.

It’s a desire that materialises amidst the acutely awkward silence that follows your admission, it breathes down his neck and forces him to lose any and all words that might escape his lips.

He smiles, a bandaged hand reaching up to cup your cheek, your eyes squint; confusion, admiration and need seeping out from their sockets and onto your face, and Dazai, for once, is grateful for his ability to read people, to read you.

He wants to kiss you, but he doesn’t.

You lean into his hand as his thumb gently draws circles across the area just below your eye, your lips part, a question you will never ask bubbling in your throat.

The pair of you look at each-other for another brief moment before Dazai removes his hand from you and turns, hiding his expression.

“You’re cold.” He states, starting to walk, “You should go home.”

And you watch him go, your feet refusing to move, body overcome with a melancholy you only ever seem to experience around Dazai.

The moon peaks out from behind the clouds again, as if to ask if you’re ok. Illuminating both you and your surroundings like a blanket.

And you feel exhausted.

masterlist <3 or part 2 here :)

feel free to leave a request !

A/N: this was supposed to be fluff idk what happened- i think i started thinking of chapter in 109 half way through, i’m sorry ANYWAY hi bsd fandom ily ily ily and thank you for reading !!!

[lookismfanfics]

Hello my love may i req a gun x reader fluff where we go out on a ice cream break with him

Of course luv!

𝐈𝐜𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦

Gun x Reader

Genres: Fluff, slice of life

🝮 Gun genuinely believes his hair will one day fall out. He’s seen it happen to the most attractive of men. They go bald.

🝮 It’s mainly due to the physical and mental strain he goes through.

🝮 If it weren’t for you… he’d probably have a receding hairline already.

🝮 You clasp his hand tightly and lean against his sturdy frame. Even the warm weather can’t keep you two apart. He blames you for being clingy, when in reality his grip on you tightens the moment you start to drift away.

🝮 It’s not too hot. Not too cold. He still gets away with wearing one of his suave coats.

🝮 You manage to wear your usual attire, too. Gun likes your sense of style, although he’s begrudging to admit it and boost your ego. (Even if you don’t have one.)

🝮 “You seem so tense,” you chide, releasing his hand to feel at the solid muscles in his back. His form is rigid and upright. Just as you suspected.

🝮 “That’s why I agreed to do this,” Gun deadpans. His sunglasses catch the light as he looks over at you. You’re unable to return the eye contact 👀

🝮 “Aw, okay. So not because I’ve been telling you about this ice cream store for weeks?”

🝮 “No.”

🝮 Seeing you happy melts his stress away.

🝮 You stroll into the shop and wait in line. Even if the wait time is short, Gun steals impatient glances at those ahead. He massages your shoulders absently.

🝮 You? Pay? Not a chance. His credit card is already fitted into the slot before you can even open your wallet.

🝮 “He’ll have the same as me,” You say. You already know his order. You share the same taste.

🝮 Gun doesn’t smile very often. He does when he hears that. It’s more a smirk than anything. Just a fleeting cocky expression that leaves as quickly as it comes.

🝮 Whether you sit outside in the warm sun, or coop yourself inside and huddle in a booth, it doesn’t matter.

🝮 Gun will offer to feed you icecream with a straight face. Take off his glasses, hold eye contact with his white pupils, and stare at you as you lick the flavor off the spoon.

🝮 He’ll try not to smile. You’ll catch him doing it anyways.

🝮 He barely touches his until you’re almost done, to make sure you don’t want some of his if you’re still hungry. Eventually he’ll start spoon feeding himself. His head ducks towards the table and he eats it in an almost elegant fashion.

🝮 You stroke his hair until you manage to loosen the gel. It slacks onto his forehead and flops around with almost every move.

🝮 You move to wipe your mouth with a napkin. He’ll wipe it off for you. You can’t reach the flavor that sits on the side of your cheek. He’ll lick it off for you.

🝮 As you leave he fits his fingers into yours and pulls you against his side.

🝮 “Thanks for paying Gun.”

🝮 “No need to thank me.”

🝮 You catch another smirk spreading across his face. You click his sunglasses and laugh. When you feel for the tension in his back, you realize it’s disappeared.

🝮 (On the walk home Gun asks you about balding and if you think it’s attractive?)

🝮 (You ask him if he thinks having a big dumptruck is a problem. He tells you you’re f-ed in the head.)

🝮 Idk what’s wrong with him 💁‍♀️

[mandalhoerian]

Since requests are open, can you write please some Leon x gn!reader fluff free angst? Also love ur writing, you're doing amazing job ❤️

~🐸

red herring | leon kennedy x reader

pairing: leon kennedy x gn!reader, leon kennedy x ada wong genre: angst, no spice, hurt no comfort we die like luis word count: 2k summary: you thought ada to be the red herring, when in reality, it was you. notes: hope this is what you had in mind! i wrote this in one day so i apologize for the quality 😭

🌀 read on ao3!

The helicopter’s rotor blades are slicing the air in an ear-deafening force of noise, the wind awakened in the wake slashing at your face, but Ada, and everything about her is unaffected. You had no idea how her saunter was graceful as a feline as usual, the click of her heels rhythmic and not at all imbalanced from having to walk against the heavy current of air. Among the maelstrom of noise, her voice is clear as a bell. “Ride’s here… You coming?”

Directed at Leon, of course. You, and Ashley watching over the scene, hidden somewhere, are not a part of this. These two were in their own world. 

“I think we both know this… is where—”

You cut Leon’s dramatic monologue off, fed up with everything. “You go with her.”

Leon glances at you, his piercing blue eyes reflecting a mixture of surprise and concern. The chaos around you seems to fade into the background as he is unable to look away from how done with this you are. 

The helicopter's roaring engine makes it difficult to hear, but you can still make out the urgency in his voice. "What the hell are you talking about?" he shouts over the noise, his tone filled with a tinge of outraged worry.

You nod, your determination unyielding. "I got Ashley. Just go with her. We’ll meet at the rendezvous point before extraction comes, I’ll do my best to handle Hunnigan until then—”

“I can’t just leave my mission—”

“You’re not leaving your mission, just making a detour. Partners, remember? Have a little faith in me.” He begins to frown even harder, about to probably tell you how this isn’t about that, but you see how Ada is waiting. She could have left already, a woman with her own goals and agenda that doesn’t have anything to do with a lone American agent, but she waits patiently. That tells you more than her contradicting talk ever can. “Whatever this is, between you and her… Don’t put a lid on it and shove it in a box until the next mission you meet her on. Solve this, Leon. Have the greeting or the closure you want. Go."

Leon looks torn, his brows furrowing deeply as he weighs his options, gloomy as ever, but there’s a certain want there, and you see deep down, he wants to seize his chance, but as always, he’s his greatest enemy. The wind whips at his hair, disheveling it further, but his gaze remains on yours. It's as if the chaos around you has momentarily frozen, leaving only the two of you in this critical moment. Ada, standing near the helicopter, looks on unreadably, her enigmatic gaze fixed upon Leon.

You step closer to him, your voice resolute despite the chaos around you. "Leon, I've got this. Trust me. You need to go with her. This is your chance to find the answers you've been seeking, to confront the unresolved feelings between you."

He opens his mouth, seemingly ready to argue, but the weight of your words settles upon him, and he hesitates. The gusts of wind whip at your hair, as if urging him to make a decision. 

"Leon, we've been through so much together," you press on, your voice softening. "I've seen the way you look at her, the questions that linger in your mind. Don't let this opportunity slip away. Resolve it, whatever it may be. Leave Ashley to me. The hard part’s done already."

His features contort with conflicted emotions, his piercing blue eyes searching your face for any signs of doubt. You meet his gaze with unwavering determination, your belief in him shining through. 

Behind that lie the feelings you have for him, but those, you bury. Deep, deep down. They are unneeded. Shouldn’t have existed in the first place. 

With a heavy sigh, Leon finally relents, his voice filled with a mix of gratitude and apprehension. "Alright, but promise me you'll be careful. We'll regroup as soon as possible."

You’re not disappointed. You’re not disappointed. You’re doing this for him. If you say it enough times, it’ll become the reality.

You nod, your determination unwavering. "I promise, Leon. Just make sure you get the answers you need."

Without another word, Leon turns towards Ada and strides purposefully towards her. The helicopter's powerful gusts buffet him, but he remains steadfast, his resolve burning bright. Ada's eyes meet his, a subtle understanding passing between them, their connection becomes palpable. It's as if time stands still for them, their shared history and unspoken emotions hanging heavily in the air. Ada's gaze softens, the shift is almost unnoticeable, and she reaches out a hand, offering him a lifeline into her world. There's a sense of bittersweetness as you witness this pivotal moment, knowing that you played a part in setting them free.

Leon pauses for a fleeting moment. He looks back, gaze finding yours once more, a silent message conveyed through. 

It doesn’t reach you. 

With that, Leon turns back to Ada, nodding at her. Without another word, they move together towards the helicopter, and she gracefully climbs aboard, the chopper's interior swallowing her form.

She only watches you as Leon also hops on, and suddenly, she’s yelling, “Here!” and an object is flying your way. Your reflexes help you catch it easily, and you’re looking at a plush bear chain with a key attached to it. “Better get a move on. This place will blow soon!”

You can’t even say, “It’ll what—?” before an explosion shakes the whole island, and you see Leon almost attempt to jump from the chopper ascending into the sky. 

You don’t wait to watch them disappear into the sunset in melancholy. You gotta get Ashley the hell out of here. 

She’s a marker. You almost miss the way Leon’s lips are a tinge redder, but the blossom on his neck is unavoidable, especially with the way he’s sprawling on the chair, head thrown back as he takes a shot from the bourbon. In the protection of the safe house, Ashley is sleeping in the next room, and you two have reunited at dead of night as Leon stealthily came back, not even one minute late. 

You point at your neck, tapping it a couple times, and his attention is diverted at where you’re showing, one eyebrow rising. “You got a little something here,” you say, chest constricting in a way you don’t like. 

“Ah,” he understands finally, hand covering it up almost unconsciously. “Shit.”

“Had a hell of a great time, huh?”

You don’t like the way he can’t even laugh at that. “An understatement.”

“So, how’d it go?”

Leon's eyes meet yours, his expression a mix of weariness and a hint of guilt, it turns somber as he considers your question, his gaze drifting off into the distance. He takes another sip of his bourbon, the liquid burning its way down his throat, momentarily distracting him.

"It's complicated," he finally responds, with a touch of resignation. He leans back in the chair, his body language betraying a certain, ancient exhaustion.

“When is it not, right?” You watch him closely, picking up on the conflicting emotions that flicker across his face. The lines of fatigue etched into his features tell a story of the shit he went through in Valdelobos, but he looks relatively better, Ada must have patched him up. 

"We made no progress," Leon continues, his voice slightly hoarse. "Still so many unanswered questions. Ada... she's as enigmatic as ever. It's like trying to catch smoke with your bare hands. I can’t let go of my anger at her, and she enjoys that."

“Ohhh,” you huff from your nose, wanting to be amusing, trying to not let it slip how the way he talks about her is so magical when you know he is a man of few words. “Hatefucking, huh? I let you go so you could talk about your emotions for once and you come back with one more to your body count. I’m regretting this already.”

Leon's weary expression morphs into a mixture of surprise and amazement at your remark, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He chuckles softly, the sound filled with a blend of weariness and genuine amusement. He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his face now sporting a lopsided grin. "Subtle as always," he chuckles, the tension in the room momentarily lifting.

"I thought maybe this time things would be different," he admits, his voice tinged with a hint of disappointment. "That I could finally understand her, or at least have some closure. But it's never that easy with her. She's a master of keeping her intentions to herself and herself only."

You lean forward, resting your chin on your hand, studying him intently. The bourbon in his glass has been reduced to a mere sip, the amber liquid reflecting the dim light of the room. Your voice is gentle as you speak, trying to understand the complexities of his emotions.

"And how do you feel about her?" you ask, your tone soft but probing. "Beyond the anger and frustration, is there something else?"

Leon's gaze lingers on the liquid for a moment before meeting yours once again. His expression holds a mixture of longing and resignation, as if grappling with an inner battle.

"I can't deny that there's a part of me that cares for her," he confesses, just admitting having left him frustrated. "Raccoon City’s left a mark on me, and so has she. I can’t get rid of her. But at the same time, I know that pursuing anything further with her is a dangerous path. She operates in shades of gray, and I can't afford to lose myself in that darkness. I would have followed her, no questions asked six years ago, but I’m not that me anymore."

A sigh manages to escape, your voice filled with a mix of concern and teasing. "Just promise me you'll be careful, Leon. Ada's a wildcard, I don't want to see you get hurt."

A flicker of gratitude passes through his eyes, and he nods. "I appreciate your concern, but remember, I've faced worse than Ada Wong." 

You smirk, a glimmer of pride shining through. "Leon Kennedy, caught in a web of mystery and seduction. Never a dull moment with you, huh?"

Leon's lips quirk into a half-smile, though the weariness still lingers in his eyes. "Never a dull moment indeed," he replies, a hint of wistfulness in his voice. "But you've always been there with me, through it all."

You give him a reassuring smile, your eyes reflecting the genuine care you have for him. "You don't have to thank me, Leon. We're partners, and that's what partners do. We watch each other's backs, no matter what."

In response, he reaches forward to cradle the back of your neck and pulls you into a singular kiss, you taste cherry lip gloss underneath the bourbon, and it reminds you the nature of your relationship with him. No name beyond the vague partners label, sharing platonic worries one second and a bed the other, and it’s comfortable. Convenient. A bond two agents who can’t commit exactly need. 

Too bad you had to ruin it by falling in love. 

As the kiss lingers, you can't help but feel a pang of regret. Regret for allowing yourself to harbor undeniable emotions for someone who cannot reciprocate those feelings in the same way. Regret for getting entangled in a web of emotions that threaten to unravel the delicate balance of your partnership.

But as quickly as it happened, he pulls away, a conflicted expression crossing his face. Maybe he’s comparing you to Ada — maybe he’s gone for it because he wanted to confirm something, who knows? His disappointment is palpable.

"I'm sorry," he murmurs, his voice laced with regret. "I shouldn't have done that. It's complicated enough as it is."

You try to mask the hurt that stings within you, the unspoken words hanging heavily in the air. You understand the boundaries, the reasons why you've kept your feelings buried deep down. But that doesn't make it any easier.

"It's okay, Leon," you manage to say, your voice steady despite the ache in your chest. "You know how it is between us. Let's not make it more complicated than it already is."

With a heavy sigh, you push aside your own emotions, burying them deep within. You've always been good at compartmentalizing, at setting aside personal desires for the sake of the greater good. 

(A red herring.)

We should get some rest," Leon finally murmurs, hand on his brow. "We have a long day ahead of us."

You nod in agreement, though your heart aches with unfulfilled longing. "Yeah, you're right. Rest sounds good."

“I’ll take the first watch.”

You leave him alone there, only looking back as you’re disappearing into your own room to see he’s playing with the little bear keychain Ada has left behind. 

(You are the red herring in their story.)

[tkaulitzlvr]

can u do more tom fluff please !! <3 i luv ur work !!

COMFORT - T. KAULITZ

synopsis: when your dreaded time of the month comes at an inconvenient time, tom takes it upon himself to make the pain as bearable as possible, not leaving your side the entire day.

content: fluff

a/n: thanku sm for the request - someone requested this scenario directly but i’ve lost it cause tumblr is BROKEN, but omg this took hours cause tumblr kept glitching i hate this app sometimes. for some reason i’ve had so many requests for fluff recently lol, i don’t write it often so decide to switch things up a little. and i also hit 600 followers whilst writing this so thank you so much!!💗

the tightening pain in my stomach is the first thing my body registers when it awakes, one that is unable to be mistaken for anything else. the room is still dark, curtains not allowing any light to leak through their cracks, signalling that i probably shouldn't be awake right now, however i soon realise that sleep doesn't seem a possibility as the pain begins to worsen. clutching my lower abdomen, i soon realise that the sheets below me feel strangely damp, my eyes widening at the thought that crosses my mind, praying for the reality to be anything but what i am imagining. though when my free hand reaches to pull the covers over my frame, my eyes widen in embarrassment, a loud groan leaving my lips once i spot the deep shade of red that soaks into the once pearly white cotton.

tom sleeps peacefully beside me, his arm draped loosely around my torso, mouth slightly parted as weak snores escape it. though his slumber doesn't last much longer, his eyes fluttering open when i slowly climb out of the bed, hand reaching out aimlessly to find it empty, instead of the presence of my body beside his own. he soon becomes more alert at my disappearance, eyes fully opening to scan the room, soon softening once he spots me standing just a few feet away, clutching at my stomach whilst taking slow sips from the glass of water that sits on my bedside table.

"schatz, what are you doing up at this time? come back into bed, it's getting cold without you." he mutters, voice low and groggy, still thick with sleep, clearly not able to stay awake much longer. his eyes squint through the darkness, trying to make out my figure more clearly, unable to distinguish the discomfort etched upon my face. but when i don't respond, he soon picks up on the fact that something isn't right, sitting upright and clearing his throat, though it isn't enough to disguise the lethargy evident in his voice.

"baby? what's wrong? c'mon, get into bed." he is becoming more concerned, our close proximity making it impossible for me to not have heard him, that idea quickly being ruled out as he considers the endless reasons for my silence. but the true reality of the situation hits when a quiet sniffle escapes my mouth, followed by the presence of tears welling up, creating a glassy sheet over my irises, reminding me how dramatically emotional i get when the time of the month hits - just about anything enough to make me burst into tears.

he shuffles slightly in the bed, his brows furrowing when his leg brushes over the wet spot in the sheets, hand following the same pattern mine did just minutes ago, lifting the covers up as the realisation soon hits him, his face quickly softening. though his calm reaction isn't enough to console me, even when his eyes, filled with pure concern, lift up from the dark red patch imprinted on the material, the tears now running down my cheeks before i can apologise.

"oh honey..." he trails off, stepping out of bed and tiredly walking over to the spot on the other side of the room where i stand, his arms quickly wrapping themselves around my trembling frame, one hand reaching upward to run through my hair lazily. my sobs are muffled into his bare chest, own hands wrapping around his waist as i move closer into his embrace. in quick and short bursts, my breathing speeds up, usually reduced to its normal rate by the kisses that tom places into my hair, his voice gently hushing me as his arms maintain their steady hold on my waist.

"hey hey hey, c'mon baby, don't get upset, it's okay. don't worry, i'll clean it up, okay?" his voice is barely above a whisper, soft and calm, the tone calming my nerves and the guilt that sets in for ruining the sheets, no matter how insignificant it seems to him. he seems to sense my continued discomfort, and after placing one faint kiss to my forehead, pulls away, his hands still resting loosely on my waist before his gaze travels downward, registering the faint stain on my small shorts.

"i'm sorry." i hiccup, gesturing to both the stained sheets and my clothing, feeling utterly humiliated knowing that he is looking at me like this, having disturbed his sleep for nothing. he seems confused by my apology, lips curving into a slight frown as his eyes soften, taking in my guilty state, not understanding why i am so ashamed.

"why are you sorry? it's just an accident, i can get fresh sheets, and you can put clean clothes on. don't stress, everything is fine." his eyes look into mine, searching for any sign of me calming down and understanding where he is coming from, though i am unable to mirror his relaxed approach, having blown the whole thing so out of proportion that the guilt begins to eat me up inside. "how about i run you a bath? i'll change the sheets, and get you some fresh clothes, hm?"

i nod weakly at his suggestion, a soft smile creeping upon his face in response. the pain habituating within my lower stomach suddenly intensifies, my face twisting in discomfort as my body almost doubles over, tom quickly moving to hold me up, one hand coming upward to rub slow circles across my abdomen, his other resting on my back as my eyes squeeze shut.

"you're okay, deep breaths." he whispers, studying my face intently, slowing the rhythm of his hand on my stomach once he watches the discomfort ease, my face returning to its normal expression. the warmth of his hand resting on my stomach, paired with the gentleness of his gaze acts as the perfect natural remedy, the cramp subsiding temporarily as i force a weak smile, straightening my posture and meeting tom's gaze, only his continues to be filled with concern.

he holds his hand out, gesturing me to take it, giving my own a gentle squeeze once i do, before leading me into the bathroom adjacent to our bedroom. the firm grasp of his touch picks me up, placing me gently on the counter in one swift movement, his thumbs absent-mindedly grazing the skin of my stomach as they slide underneath my small crop top, their soft touch easing the dull aching pain there just a little, making it that small bit easier to cope with the discomfort. if that wasn't enough, his body threads it's way between my legs as they dangle off of the counter, standing in between them whilst his thumbs reach upward, wiping the tears that reside along my cheeks, and drying the fresh ones that form along my waterline.

his movements are careful, kind and gentle in an attempt to soothe me more than he already has, intent on relieving the stress in any way that he could, doing so seeming like his duty, the silent reward of my contentment all he needs to prompt him to continue, until the only evidence of my upset is the rosy tint that spreads across my cheeks. once satisfied with his work, his hands move to rest on my thighs, his touch forming goosebumps over the skin, whilst his face nears my own. his lips collide with mine ever so gently, pecking them repeatedly, the contact so tender that i almost don't feel it, though the love that radiates from each movement reminds me that the moment is real, and enough to make me forget about the pain, even if it is only for a few seconds.

"love you." he mumbles against my lips, smiling softly and kissing them once more. my cheeks heat up at his words, heart tugging at its strings, realising that no matter how long we have been together, his ability to make me blush with the smallest of actions is long lived, and i don't think that it will ever go away.

"love you too." i smile slowly, the moment only lasting a few seconds as he pulls me into a short hug, fingers fiddling with the waistband of my shorts, reminding me that they need changing, the feeling of them making me cringe. he steps back for a second, only to walk toward the bathtub, twisting the taps on as gushes of hot water begin to spill from them, the tub quickly filling up.

"get in meine liebe, i'll be right back." he says, gesturing towards the bath and shooting me another warm smile before his figure disappears from the room, leaving the door slightly ajar. my feet step out of the dirty shorts, picking them up and tossing them into the laundry basket, my crop top soon following. my hands fiddle with the strands of hair falling at my shoulder blades, scooping them upward and tying them into a messy ponytail, my body quickly shivering from the lack of warmth that my clothing had brought.

i step into the tub, sinking further and further into the water as its heat envelops my body, my shoulders quickly falling, eyes closing in satisfaction as quiet breaths leave my parted lips. the silence is calming somehow, distracting me from the pain that comes and goes, though i soon long for tom to return, wondering what has taken him so long, needing to feel his embrace despite the comfort that the water brings. so i quietly wait, fingers tracing the outline of the large bathtub, droplets of water forming along the exposed skin of my arms, the drowsiness that takes over only increasing, my eyes on the verge of falling shut, until the sound of footsteps nearing the room soon turns my attention toward the door, my face lighting up when tom walks through it.

his hands hold a t-shirt, neatly folded and freshly washed, the material spreading out and creasing slightly once he places it on the counter, revealing a fresh pair of panties and some tampons wrapped within it, my heart melting at his thoughtfulness, the smallest of things being what make me aware of how lucky i am to have him. his attention turns towards me quickly, clearly determined to take care of me despite his tired eyes and the dark circles that habituate beneath them. he walks over to the bathtub, crouching beside it and dipping his fingers aimlessly into the hot water.

"how are you feeling?" he takes my face in his hands, pulling it closer toward him carefully and kissing my forehead lightly after speaking, keeping his fingers resting against my cheek, thumb running up and down it comfortingly, whilst his free hand brushes the loose strands of hair behind my ears.

"better." i say, offering him a genuine smile, sitting up slightly to better my view of him.

"i got you one of my t-shirts to change into. i tried to find your favourite, you know, the red one? i searched the whole house, but i couldn't find it anywhere, i'm sorry baby. but i found another one that i know you wear sometimes, the white one with the purple writing, i hope it's okay-"

i let out a soft chuckle at his rambling, repeating his motion just seconds ago and wrapping my hand around the nape of his neck, cutting off his voice with my lips, pulling back after a few seconds, giggling slightly at his genuine concern over a t-shirt. he struggles to see what is so funny, though his eyes narrow in confusion, a soft smile mirroring my own spreads across his face at my own happiness. "it's okay baby, thank you."

he stands up, clearing his throat and wiping his hands that had gotten slightly wet on his sweatpants. "i'll give you some space, i'm in the bedroom if you need me, okay schatz?"

though before he can exit the room, or even get within a few steps distance of the door, my hand reaches out, wrapping around his wrist lazily. he stops in his tracks, turning around swiftly to face me once again, eyes softening at my pleading look, already assuming what i am going to ask. he had always been good at that, guessing what i will say, before my mouth had chance to utter the words, and this time proves no different, his body taking one step toward the tub.

"can you get in with me?" i ask, looking upwards with pleading eyes, widening them in an attempt to convince him, my hand squeezing his wrist gently. i know what the answer will be, certain that he would never refuse a chance to lay beside me, despite the frequency that we do so anyway.

"yeah, sure." he nods calmly, quickly reaching to tug the only item of clothing that he is wearing down, the grey sweatpants pooling at his feet. he drags them off, folding them neatly and placing them beside my fresh change of clothes on the counter. my body moves forward, giving him room to climb in behind me, and he soon does so, resting his back firmly against the bathtub. he gets comfy, sinking into the water and stretching his legs out as my body rests in between them. after a few seconds, he snakes his arms around my waist, using his secure grip to pull me backward, my back resting firmly against his chest.

his fingers sit on my stomach, tracing circles over the skin, applying more pressure when i would sigh out in pain, gently massaging the cramping away, all whilst his lips would place quick kisses into my hair, though some would linger for a few seconds, often followed with the simple phrase 'i love you', each time he would utter them leaving me in the same state - a light shade of red creeping onto my cheeks whilst my lips curved into a small smile. he would always acknowledge my flustered state, though never tease me about it as he would in any other circumstance, deciding on savouring the peaceful moment, scared to ruin the tenderness of it, as it is memories like this which will be cherished forever.

though there are a few times when his head would dip downward, lips ghosting the skin of my neck, testing the waters between loving and lustful, but he knows that there is nothing sexual about this moment, knowing better than to create something sensual out of it. so he keeps his touches caring, the pads of his fingers running up and down my sides, eyes sparkling with joy as i can sense the cheesy grin on his face from behind.

though his sleep is put on the line, he seems to show no regret for choosing me over his slumber, standing up slowly and taking my hand, his other resting gently on my waist as he helps me exit the bath, following afterward and finding a towel big enough for the both of us. his arms open outward, gesturing me to come closer, and when my body nears his, naked frame pressed against his own, his arms close around us, the towel providing us with some warmth, though the majority of heat felt comes from what radiates from tom's body as he continues to keep his arms wrapped around me, refusing to increase the distance between us.

we stay like this for a few minutes, bodies against each other, swaying side to side ever so slowly, his chin resting on top of my head, a peaceful silence between us until he steps back, handing me his t-shirt. he tugs his own clothes on, cleaning up the bathroom whilst i fix myself up, his gentle hand coming to rest at my back once i am finished.

"c'mon, let's go back to bed, you must be tired." he says, walking us both into the bedroom. by now, light had managed to leak into the room through the curtains, a medley of ambers and pinks melting across the walls, though i barely acknowledge this, my focus instead on the bed in the centre of the room. it is freshly made, dressed with crisp white sheets, the dirty ones nowhere to be seen.

tom collapses onto the bed, his head delving into the pillow as i fall onto the mattress, only alone for a few seconds as he quickly pulls me into his side, arms wrapping tightly around my waist, fingers playing with the hem of his t-shirt, hiking it upward from its previous position where it rested just above my knees, the majority of tom's clothing insanely big on me, though i don't mind. he places the covers over our bodies, legs intertwined as i lay practically on top of him, this not enough for tom as he drags me closer, my chest against his. after getting comfortable and making sure that i am too, his head buries into my neck, placing a few gentle kisses there as a silent way of saying 'i love you', though his verbal confirmation comes soon after as he tiredly utters the three words, muffled by the skin of my shoulder.

"thank you for helping me. i'm sorry about the sheets." i mumble, his head soon reappearing from where it had rested, a soft chuckle leaving his lips at my repeated apology.

"it's what i'm here for. i'll always be here to help you, and you don't have to be sorry about it either. it's just some sheets, you're much more important. now get some sleep, okay? i'll be right here when you wake up." he kisses my lips softly before i can respond, only this one is much longer than the ones we had shared earlier, his hand moving to cup my cheek, only pulling away for breath when he can no longer kiss back.

"i love you." i whisper against his lips, eyes fluttering open and shut as i find myself becoming increasingly tired, quickly uttering confirmation of my love towards him before i fall asleep, snuggling further into his embrace as he gives my waist a gentle squeeze.

"i love you too schatz, more than you'll ever know."

requests are open! keep sending them in!!

[delusionalfanficwriter]

high

I stumbled onto the practice field, my legs feeling strangely unsteady. My teammates were already engaged in their warm-up drills, but I found myself swaying, unable to focus. Everything around me seemed to shimmer and twist, as if I were seeing the world through a funhouse mirror.

The grass beneath my cleats felt impossibly soft, like I was treading on a plush carpet. The sky above was a breathtaking swirl of colors, vibrant and surreal. Even the soccer ball I held seemed to morph and ripple in my hands, making it difficult to keep my grip.

Tobin, noticing my bewildered actions, approached me, her brow furrowed in concern, her voice laced with confusion. "Y/N, are you okay?"

I tried to answer, but all that escaped my lips were giggles, uncontrollable and strange. Laughter bubbled up from deep within me, and I couldn't stop myself from finding the simplest things uproarious.

"I'm great, Tobin!" I managed to say between fits of giggles. "Everything is just... so... funny!"

My teammates, in the midst of their drills, exchanged bewildered glances as well. Coach Vlatko, his patience wearing thin, joined the group, eyeing me with a mixture of puzzlement and irritation.

As the laughter faded, I was left with a haunting realization. The innocent-looking brownie I had grabbed from the kitchen before practice held something far more potent than I had ever expected. I’m going to kill Mal for bringing them back from UCLA. She probably did it to share with some people from the team but come on.

The euphoria began to recede, and a cold shiver of panic gripped me. It started as a gnawing doubt that intensified with each passing moment. My family had a history of drug addiction, and I had always been cautious about avoiding any substances that could lead me down that dark path. Panic rushed in like a tidal wave, tightening my chest and making my head spin.

“Oh my God. I am high. Tobin. I am high. I -I can’t be-e. Tobin, this is bad. I don’t do drugs,” I spiral in my thoughts and ramble.

Tobin noticed my distress quickly, her concern deepening. She leaned in close, her voice a hushed whisper. "Y/N, we can't let Coach Vlatko know what's going on. It could jeopardize your spot on the team. Just hold it together for a few minutes. Take deep breaths."

I nodded, my eyes wide with fear. I couldn't afford to let this mistake cost me my place on the USWNT.

Tobin quickly thought on her feet, turning to Kelley O'Hara, "Kelley, Y/N isn't feeling well. I think it's best if we say she's sick and needs to sit out. Can you help her back to the locker room and make sure she's okay?"

Kelley, always a team player, nodded without hesitation. "Of course, Tobin. I'll take care of her."

As Kelley led me away from the field, the amused expressions and hushed laughter of my teammates lingered in the background. My attempt at humor had spiraled into a bizarre mishap, but Tobin's quick thinking had shielded me from the prying eyes of Coach Vlatko, at least for now.

Kelley guided me into the locker room, her expression a mix of concern and curiosity. She closed the door behind us, and I sank onto one of the benches, my head still spinning from the unexpected high.

"Y/N," Kelley said gently, "are you alright?"

I tried to focus on her face, but it felt like her features were swimming in front of me. "I messed up, Kelley. I didn't know that brownie was... you know...I’m high… I’m panicking… I don’t want to be high."

She nodded, understanding the gravity of the situation. "It happens to the best of us. Let's get you settled and comfortable."

Kelley helped me lie down on one of the benches, arranging my jacket as a makeshift blanket. The locker room lights seemed too bright, and the sounds of the outside world echoed in my ears as if they were amplified a thousand times.

As I lay there, Kelley sat down next to me, her presence a comforting anchor in my disorienting reality. She started talking softly, sharing stories from our time on the team, hoping to distract me from the effects of the brownie.

With each passing moment, my racing thoughts began to slow down, and my panic ebbed away. Kelley's soothing words and calm demeanor worked their magic. I started to feel more at ease, more in control.

Eventually, Kelley noticed that my eyelids were growing heavy. "Y/N, it might be a good idea for you to get some rest. Sleep can help you come down from this."

I nodded, my energy sapped from the whirlwind of emotions and sensations. Kelley adjusted the bench to make it more comfortable before pushing the makeshift pillow onto her lap so my head laid on her thigh. 

"Close your eyes," she whispered, "and try to relax. I'll stay here with you until you fall asleep."

I followed her instructions, my eyelids drooping. The locker room's harsh lights softened into a warm, comforting glow. Kelley's presence beside me became a lifeline, and I slowly drifted into a deep, peaceful sleep.

As I slept, my dreams were filled with the surreal images and sensations of the day, but they were no longer frightening or disorienting. With Kelley by my side, I felt safe, and I knew that when I woke up, I would be better. 

... ... ... ... ... ... ...

I stirred from my slumber, feeling groggy and disoriented. The locker room's familiar surroundings slowly came into focus, and I realized that I must have dozed off. The last thing I remembered was Kelley's comforting presence and her soothing words.

As I tried to sit up, I found my limbs heavy and uncooperative. I let out a soft groan, prompting Kelley, who had been sitting beside me, to turn her attention towards me.

"Hey there," Kelley said with a warm smile. "How are you feeling?"

I blinked at her, still feeling a bit dazed. "Better, I think. Thanks for being here, Kelley."

She reached out and gently ran her fingers through my hair, her touch incredibly soothing. "You're welcome, Y/N. You had quite the adventure today."

I chuckled weakly, remembering the unexpected turn of events. "Tell me about it."

Kelley helped me sit up slowly, her strong arms supporting me. "We need to get you to the bus, Y/N. The team is heading back, and I don't want you to be left behind."

I nodded, feeling a bit unsteady on my feet. Kelley scooped me up in her arms effortlessly, cradling me against her chest. I couldn't help but snuggle into her, feeling safe and protected.

As she carried me towards the bus, I nestled my head against her shoulder, breathing in her familiar scent. Her heartbeat, strong and steady, reverberated through her chest, lulling me into a sense of security.

Kelley settled me into one of the seats, wrapping a warm blanket around me.

"Get some more rest," she whispered, her voice a gentle murmur. "I'll be right here."

I closed my eyes once more, the rhythmic hum of the bus's engine and the gentle sway of the ride lulling me back into slumber. Kelley's presence beside me was like a warm cocoon, and as I drifted off, I couldn't help but smile. 

As I snuggled into Kelley's arms on the bus, my groggy state preventing me from full awareness, I could sense the curious glances and quiet chuckles from my teammates. The locker room had been an intimate setting, and now, the bus ride was proving to be equally revealing.

Alex Morgan, sitting a few rows ahead, turned to look at us with an amused grin. "Well, well, well, looks like someone had an eventful morning."

Kelley shot her a playful glare, her voice hushed but teasing. "Mind your own business, Alex."

A chorus of laughter erupted from my teammates, the camaraderie evident in their good-natured ribbing. I couldn't help but blush, my drowsy state making me more susceptible to their teasing.

Christen Press, sitting across the aisle, leaned over to give me a sympathetic smile. "Don't worry, Y/N. We've all had our moments."

Julie Ertz, sitting next to Christen, nodded in agreement. "Yeah, and at least you have Kelley here to take care of you."

I glanced up at Kelley, who had been patiently enduring the banter, and offered her a grateful smile. She returned it with a warm one of her own, her eyes filled with genuine affection.

[kalims]

‎˃ ᵕ ˂ . . "do I like you? is that even a question?"

you like me, don't you?

heartslabyul : savanaclaw : octavinelle : scarabia : pomefiore : ignihyde : diasomnia :

note. I got bored and just decided to make this miniseries, just a small short. and also trying to expand my writing abilities 😃👍

"you speak of nonsense."

there's a twinge of hurry in riddle's words. it comes out quicker than he wanted and it doesn't help that his face always seems to have a mind of it's own, turning red at the most unnecessary of situations and flaming when he least wants it to.

it isn't something he's very proud of but you think it's cute.

his red face either displays blazing rage, shameful embarrassment, or both. it's probably weird that you think it's cute but hey! riddle doesn't allow himself to actively display his feelings other than disappointment or anger, remaining to be formal instead.

it's a tiny catalyst to what he's feeling. anger and embarrassment might be things one doesn't like but it's nice seeing him so expressive. or are you just crazy for thinking so?

but his face is probably one of your favorites.

be it the twitch of his eyebrow and the sharp inhale of his that signals embarrassment, the grinding of his teeth and avoidance of eye that displays embarrassment or shyness, the enlarged pupil and small smile when he's doing something he likes—

you can go on and on.

but you can't help but tease him. "your red face says otherwise." you laugh out loud, to riddle it sounds like something straight out of heaven and even he is frustrated to admit it. how could he ever do this?

"hmph. unfortunately.."

wait. doesn't that mean he just agreed with you?

—

"hmm,,, well.. I used to." trey answers so casually that you actually had to pause to register his words. since when did trey clover even like you? and what did you do wrong to make his apparent 'previous' feelings to wither away?

well shucks. if you had known earlier then you're absolutely sure that you'd tried harder to help him in ways more than one but for now, you have so many questions.

why did trey like you, what was special about you? you did hope that he would but that was only something that lays inside your dreams, for it to turn reality wants to make you go crazy.

and when did his feelings even go away? you can't deny that your heart cracked a little but the earlier to move on the better, right? you had.. other things to worry about than pointless crushes. you're not sure yourself if it really was pointless.

or.. you're just looking too much into it and he used it as a friendly term?

most probably sensing your inner monologue trey chuckles. "you seem distressed." he comments. unable to hide the pleased smirk on his lips, you are too embarrassed to spot it, feeling more intent to gaze at the piece of dough you knead with your fingers.

"really?"

it's still surprising to hear the next words come out more casual than the previous. "yep, I love you now."

you drop the bowl.

—

"eh?"

there's a stupefied look on cater's face. instead of the bright front he spent years putting up there's actually something in his face instead of the cheery grin, but rather an absolutely horrified one. like you just spilled all his secrets.

you raise your brows. suprised yourself to witness his reaction. "what?" did he actually like you?

cater does this thing where there's a becoming realization dawning on him that he did something totally off character, he laughs it off. "uh.. haha, I mean who told you that?" something desperate to know swims in his eyes and it fuels you even more.

he neither denied or acknowledged your words but his answer just leans on the 'he actually does like you' category.

your mouth forms into an awed 'o'. "so you do like me!" you slap a hand over your mouth and giggle loudly. not one of those giggles that would hurt your ears when you went near a radius of them cause they felt forced but a more, actual joyful one.

he looks more horrified. "WHAT? well I mean.. who wouldn't like you?"

it sounded like he was trying to convince you and himself.

"you, obviously." you roll your eyes. you don't know why but you have a feeling that he's been confused the whole period but trying to play it off.

he smiles brightly, drops it for a second and smiles again. "I mean yeah, totally! how about dinner tonight?"

wow. verryyyy smooth. if only he knows that there's probably some kind of rule about not staying up after 8.

—

"ew no." ace quickly denies. pushing you away for good measure, you stumble and instinctively grip on the vase for dear life. almost dragging it down with you to your own demise and by a stroke of luck, it just managed to stay there.

you shoot him an aspirated look. "you almost made me fall??" grumbling you dust yourself off, flinging away the dirt from the floor that stuck to your uniform after your lower body violently colliding with it.

—completely missing ace's grumble of his own. "you dumbass.. it's the other way around." you turn to him and cast him a weird look.

"what did you say?"

"I said it's the other way around." he says. not missing a beat. you're stunned by the sheer audacity and boldness he had cause damn. where do you get a speck of this kind of thing? and who even says what they actually said instead of going 'nothing.'??

ace apparently.

you blank. "I was just joking?"

"you think I am?"

ace smiles—not one of those arrogant smirks that makes you want to pound him to the ground because he's the reason you're in trouble. but a literal, actual smile.

there's a weirded out look on your face as you shiver. "ohhh god.. I think I just saw the face of satan. am I gonna die?"

"hey!"

—

honestly you don't know if you regret speaking at all because the silence was very deafening. deuce had frozen up, going so still you thought he actually got cast a curse or something.. his back is turned on you and it's as if he refuses to look at, and is going through the stages of grief at the same time.

"ah! how did you know that?! it was ace wasn't it?!" he suddenly leaps to turn to you—somehow. meanwhile you flinch at the voluntary action he just did because none of you were moving, or speaking at all for a full 2 minutes.

did..

did he just admit it to you?

wow, that was easier than you thought. "wait so you actually like me?" you incredulously force out. deuce has this confused look on his face as he stares at you all while throwing a few nervous gazes around the surrounding in the middle of it.

"what do you mean? I thought you knew that just now."

"..."

"..."

"um.. wanna go out?"

"really?! I mean uh—yeah sure." deuce coughs. seemingly forgetting that he was supposed to be the 'totally cool and responsible' person in addition to his honor student dream. this is embarrassing, he thinks. but honestly who cares he scored a date with you!

he's probably still gonna playfully fight ace, cause you never told him that it wasn't ace.

note. me after starting this knowing damn well I have over 42+ shit to write 😃 anyways I don't like how I interpret some of these but 🧍‍♀️🤷‍♀️ also a bit ooc of deuce cause I'm not that good at writing him lol

[latoyalestrange]

an idea for Sebastian x the MC: MC is on her period and walking with Sebastian when she has a bad cramp, one of those you can’t really ignore and need to sit down for a min and endure the pain. Sebastian’s immediate reaction is thinking she was cursed like Anne because she’s always out fighting goblins. She really doesn’t want to tell him because what teenage girl wants to talk about that with their crush but he’s so worried and won’t drop it. (side note: did teenage boys know about periods in the 1890’s? i deadass have no clue)

omg my mind juices are flowing. what a wonderful idea, anon. thank you for the free labor.

speaking of which, by the time i post this i will most likely have hit 500 followers!! ding ding ding!! why do you guys follow me? i defo do not deserve all the love you guys give me.

another question, how should we celebrate? there are no bad ideas because i have none. anyway, enjoy!

pinky promise

s. sallow x f!reader

summary: normally you keep these things to yourself, or at least to you and your menstruating friends. but one sebastian sees you doubled over in pain, privacy goes out the window. he's so freaked out that you have no choice but to tell him the truth to ease him.

words: 0.6k

warnings: mentions of periods, cramping, angst, hurt/comfort, crying!seb, not edited!

you were just fine moments ago. you were walking with sebastian to the library to study, talking, joking, all of the normal things you would do. he didn't notice you weren't next to him at first. everything was just fine. but suddenly, everything came crashing down when he saw you clutch your side, your face twisting with anguish. he couldn't help it. he immediately saw anne in you, crying out in pain from her curse. everything slowed around him, all he could hear was his own heavy breaths as he stood helplessly in shock. a million thoughts were racing through his mind. he knew you were one to track down the remaining loyalists on your own, but how could he have missed it? you were probably in so much pain but with too much pride to admit it.

most of all, though, he was angry with himself for being unable to protect you. he'd already let it happen to his sister once, he should've taken more precautions. he should've known, he should've stopped it. without wasting another second, he raced to your side, wrapping his arm around you to support you.

"no, no, no, no, no...please don't tell me..." his voice was already breathless and trembling. with your eyes still screwed tightly shut, his words seemed distant, muffled almost. the sharp pain that suddenly surfaced in your abdomen shrouded all your other senses. you couldn't get a word out if you tried, so you just held up your hand, a weak attempt at calming him.

"no, no, i can't--" he didn't even try to hide the tears pooling in his amber eyes. he quickly dropped to his knees in front of you as you knelt over to get a better look at the expression on your face. his hand instinctively cupped your face.

"y/n, please tell me you weren't cursed, please!" he was full-on crying at this point, tears streaming down his freckled cheeks that were now flushed with worry. you were quickly brought back to reality, hearing the pain in his voice. you opened your eyes and instantly felt horrible.

you placed a comforting hand on his shoulder as you slowly started to straighten your spine as the cramp faded away. "no, sebastian, i'm fine--"

"no, you're not fine!" he was practically wailing now, gripping onto your robes hopelessly before wrapping his arms around your waist with an almost unbearable grip and hiding his dampened face in your torso. you were fast to rest your hands in his hair, gently patting it to somehow soothe him.

"sebastian, really, i'm okay, i'm just..." you continued running your fingers through his hair as you contemplated the truth. to be frank, this was something you were hoping you didn't have to talk with sebastian about. however, the lingering students in the central hall were already giving the two of you stares, you needed to calm him.

"it's...my time, sebastian." you tried to keep your voice hushed as to not draw more attention, but your wording sent him even further from relaxing.

"your time?!" he shouted incoherently, tears still streaming down his face.

you gasped, realizing your mistake, "no, no! sebastian, it's my time of the month." as if a switch had flipped in his brain, his brow softened immediately as he stared blankly at you.

"oh." he let his arms linger around your waist as he tried slowing his breathing. after a moment, he pulled you closer once more, his cheek flush with your stomach.

"please don't scare me like that again," he mumbled adorably, still holding tightly onto you.

"i--...sure, okay. i'm sorry, sebastian. i didn't mean to scare you, darling." you decided not to argue with him. in that moment, all he needed was love.

"and pinky promise no more ashwinder camps without me," he added, craning his neck to look up at you with puffy eyes. you suppressed a chuckle but still smiled down at him.

"pinky promise."