#THANK YOU FOR REQUESTING CONTENT OF MY BOY YOURE SO BASED!! <3

[homecomingvn]

Please im begging on my hands and knees, a crumb of countent with elijah?😳😳😳

YESSSSS

"Oh, there you are."

You turn your gaze from the lake to peek at Elijah over your shoulder, watching him as he walks towards you, the dock creaking underneath his feet. Once he reaches you, you scoot over a little, smiling a little as he moves to sit down, a small oof sound leaving him.

The silence is awkward before Elijah clears his throat. "I was, um, worried about you." His voice falters a little, a shy tilt to it. "I asked Lyra and she said you'd probably be here.."

You smile apologetically. "Yeah, I wanted to take a break before going back to help with the kids. Sorry, I should've said where I was going."

"No, you don't have to apologize!" Elijah raises his hands, waving them slightly. "If you want, I can go somewhere else so you can be alone..?"

You immediately shake your head. "No, please stay." You turn your gaze back to the water, watching the sun begin to dip beneath the horizon, "It's really beautiful here. I would hate to see this view alone."

Elijah observes you, his eyes remaining on you even as the sun casts a brilliant orange on the water, its rays spreading out in all directions. "Yeah, I think I know what you mean."

The two of you remain seated on the edge of the dock as someone watches from the near distance, their expression unreadable.

[hottpinkpenguin]

Letting Someone Go - Part 5 (The End!)

Benny Cross X Female Reader part 1 is here! part 2 is here! part 3 is here! part 4 is here! A/n: ahhh it's always so hard to write a satisfying ending. i rlly hope you enjoy it, and i want to thank everyone for reading this series!! i am officially taking Bikeriders requests, so if this story got your mind thinking about what other Benny/Vandals boys content you'd like, feel free to send it my way! Word Count: 3683 Warnings: none for this chapter

You woke up the next morning with a split lip, a black eye, and a hangover. Before even opening your eyes, you knew you were back at Zipco’s house based on the strong Patchouli-incense-over-bourbon smell. Not on the lumpy couch though - you were in his bed. You opened one eye and instantly regretted it: the world started to spin and you barely managed to grab at the wastebasket someone had left by the bedside before you emptied your stomach. You wretched until there was nothing left to come up, just bile and bloody spit. Unwilling to test your vertigo by standing up and walking down the hall to the bathroom, you called out for Zipco in a watery-thin rasp.

“Zip?” 

Silence. It seemed like the house was empty. Zipco was many things, but a quiet housemate was not among them. Wherever he went, he was slamming doors, knocking furniture, thumping on the rickety floorboards. 

“Zip ain’t here.”

The voice startled you and you whipped your head around - another immediate regret, as it renewed your nausea. Benny was sitting in a chair in the corner of the room, smoking a cigarette and watching you closely. He must have slept here, you realized, as you took in the wrinkled tshirt stained with your mascara and blood and his mussed hair. 

“Where’s Zip?” you groaned, shutting your eyes in a vain attempt to stop the spinning. 

Benny stood up and walked out of the bedroom as he called back to you. “He took Kathy home. I asked him to stay with her for the night, keep an eye on things.”

Kathy. Last night. The memory of that awful night came back to you hard and with a vengeance. You whimpered, pressing your face down on the pillow as if you could blot it out. From down the hall, you heard the sound of Benny rummaging around in the kitchen for a few moments. You willed yourself to focus on that noise and breathe deeply through your nose and out through your mouth. 

You felt the mattress give under his weight as he came back and perched on the edge of the bed. “Here.” He handed you a bag of ice, coaxing you to lift your head and place the ice against your swollen lip. He brushed back strands of your hair out of your face with a tenderness you’d never seen from him before. 

“Thank you,” you croaked, voice cracking. “For last night. Helping me. For everything.” 

He nodded softly and offered you a cup of water. “Try to drink it,” he encouraged. You obeyed, wincing at the bad taste in your mouth and the soreness in your throat as you swallowed. The water settled in your stomach with a cooling rush, and it helped lessen your headache marginally. Benny just kept sitting there, fussing over you like a nursemaid. It was achingly touching, but surprising and strangely intimate. After a few moments, you cleared your throat and forced yourself to sit upright, moving slowly and deliberately so as not to set off the spins again. He helped you prop yourself up against the headboard, one of Zip’s pillows tucked at the small of your back.

“How’s Kathy?” Why you asked that question was anyone’s guess. You were grasping at straws, overwhelmed by Benny’s presence and his assiduous attention to you. You couldn’t care less how Kathy was doing, and you knew you were risking the moment between you two - whatever it was - by bringing her up. 

Predictably, Benny’s face crumpled from concern to something harder. He held your gaze with a wary seriousness. “You really wanna know how my wife is right now?” 

Wife. 

You pursed your lips - bad move, you felt the split open up and fresh blood coat your tongue - and looked down at the water glass in your hand so he couldn’t see the tears in your eyes. You hadn’t known Kathy was that to him. You’d never really considered the possibility. Four years is a hell of a long time, a reprimanding voice in your head reminded you. What did you expect?

Why didn’t the guys tell you? A flash of anger at Zipco and Cal and Johnny flared in your chest. It was irrational, you knew, and a displacement of your real pain. The anger fizzled out as quickly as it had come up, leaving you alone with a sinking grief. 

Benny must have noticed your reaction. “You didn’t know.” Not a question, an observation. One he must have suspected because you heard the sound of confirmation in his voice. His words didn’t sound unkind, although there was an edge of pity there that you hated. Unable to meet his eyes, you simply shook your head. 

“I figured one of the guys told you.” 

“Yea, I would’ve figured that too.” 

You ran a finger along the lip of the water glass. Anything for a distraction. A thick silence that threatened to bloom into something permanent settled between you. 

“Congrats,” you managed with a small, bitter laugh. “How long?”

Benny turned away from you, bracing his hands on his knees and looking at the wall. “Y/n, don’t do this.”

“Do what?” you demanded, embarrassment staining your cheeks. Not only had he just dropped this hundred pound disappointment on you, but now he expected you not to struggle with its weight?

“Hurt yourself,” he replied sadly, turning back to you. His eyes drank you in and caused your breath to tangle in your throat. Once again, you couldn’t hold his gaze, and let your eyes drop to your hands. You knocked that one set of your knuckles were scraped and bruised, and a snippet of memory - men dragging you up a stairwell, you thrashing against them and screaming out for help - smacked you like a freight train. The sob that bubbled in your lungs refused to be stifled. 

At the sound of it, Benny stiffened. “I’m sorry. I should’ve left. I just wanted to make sure you were alright. I’ll go, send Zip back over.” 

You looked back up at him and found you could look through him. Talking to the wall behind Benny, you felt your mouth moving as words came pouring out before you fully knew what you wanted to say. “Aight then, Benny, you best get your stuff and get out, then.”

It was the exact same line you’d said to him four years ago when he’d made you tell yourself that he was in love with someone else. Unlike then, this time your words dripped with poison. 

He flinched slightly at your words, and you figured that was about as much as you could hope for. Benny Cross was many things, but he would never be the kind of guy who would collapse for a woman. Especially not one that he didn’t love. 

For a heartbeat or two, he looked at you while you looked through him. It was a test. Who would break first. Both of you knew the answer. Benny was incapable of breaking. You’d been craving that from him for too long and had been disappointed too many times before to delude yourself now. Benny was going to leave, exactly like you’d told him to. He wasn’t going to argue, or apologize, or ask why you were angry, or stubbornly ignore your dismissal in an attempt to get through to you. He was going to leave because that’s what he did. Although not with Kathy, that vicious inner voice reminded you. Just you. 

Right on cue, Benny broke eye contact, hesitating momentarily before standing up from the edge of the bed. Your eyes followed him as he walked over to the chair he’d been sitting in, picked up his leather jacket and threw it on over his shoulders. The icy shell around your heart threatened to thaw as the realization that this might be the last moment you ever saw him overtook you. 

He moved to leave without looking back to you, although he did stop at the door.

“Why’d you come back?” he asked, his voice low and full of something approaching emotion. 

“For Brucie’s funeral,” you replied robotically. 

You both knew it was a lie. Benny waited, turning slightly so his body was angled towards you, but still not looking up at you. 

“What do you want me to say, Benny? That I came back for you? That I stayed away for so long because of you? You already know all that shit.”

He fidgeted with his leather riding gloves methodically, tucking them into the sleeves of his jacket. You’d never known Benny to care about stuff like that. You had the fleeting thought that he was stalling against what you both sensed would be your last goodbye. 

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled heavily. “I’m sorry for everything.” 

And with that, Benny vanished once again from your life, leaving behind that all too familiar ache like a gaping hole in your chest. 

***********************

Benny was riding back to Kathy’s apartment when he realized that he didn’t want to. The last thing he wanted was to get an earful from Kathy, although he knew precisely that’s what was waiting for him. An earful for getting involved in another fight over the club, for getting involved with you, and for leaving her behind. He deserved it, but he didn’t want it.

He also didn’t want to turn around and back towards the girl he’d just left, with her face busted up and her spirit broken. All because she’d come back hoping for something from him. All she was going to get was disappointment. That’s all Benny had for anybody else. He’d disappointed Kathy by not being a good husband. He’d disappointed Johnny by not being a good Vandal, not being willing to take over the charter. And he’d disappointed y/n simply by not being good. Most of all, Benny was his own biggest disappointment. He realized, sitting on the back of his bike idling at a light that had long ago turned from red to green, that he wasn’t sure what he’d imagined for his life, but it sure as hell wasn’t this. It wasn’t watching the people around you get hurt, time and time again, all behind your own failures. 

So, instead of turning left on 53rd St. to head home, Benny kept going straight on 55th until it linked up with Rte 34 in Naperville. He gassed up in Wyanet and didn’t stop until he hit the Nebraska line. Benny rode west until he got tired of staring at sunsets, and then turned north, meandering up into colder country. 

Epilogue

At first, the running theory about what happened was that one of the guys from the night before had found Benny, somehow, on the way back from Zipco’s place and jumped him. Beat the shit out of him, took his bike, dumped him on the side of a road somewhere. Maybe even killed him. But, as weeks turned into months without any news and without a body, a different understanding took hold: Benny Cross had simply left. 

Kathy stuck around but drifted steadily further away from the MC. She stopped showing up to Junker’s on Friday nights, stopped hanging out at the Vandals’ house parties, stopped asking Johnny if he’d heard from Benny. You saw her a few times in the years after Benny left, usually at the laundromat or the corner store, somewhere neutral. She never acknowledged you, and you figured that was probably the smart thing to do. There weren’t any words the two of you could exchange that would do anything for either of you. Better just to let sleeping dogs lie. At some point, you saw Kathy Cross for the last time, although you didn’t know it would be the last. Word reached the MC that she’d met some wealthy Cincinnati lawyer in a pop shop and had moved in with him a few weeks later, into some swanky highrise overlooking the Ohio River. You had a suspicion that Kathy’s days of logging time on the back of a bike were over. 

While Kathy exited the Vandals’ scene, you found yourself quickly at the center of the club. You and Zipco decided after a few months that you made great friends, but shit roommates. You moved into your own place a few blocks down from Junker’s and opened a body shop for bikes with the money your daddy left you in the will. Your first employee was Cal, and your first customer was Johnny. From that day forward, the Vandals MC kept your business buzzing and your books balanced. You named the shop Cross Roads Bikes. Customers who didn’t know you asked why “cross roads” was two separate words; usually, you just told them that you’d been drunk when you filled out the business license application and had put a space in there by accident. Customers who knew you didn’t need to ask what happened. 

In spite of that, somewhere along the way you woke up one day and realized that this was the closest you’d been to happy in a long long time, maybe ever. It struck you as strange, because since the day you’d met him, you’d only seen happiness as part of your future if Benny was in it. Yet, here you were: happy (ish) and Benny-less. Funny how the world works.  

You didn’t know why Benny took off or where he’d gone, but you did know one thing: Benny broke three hearts the day he left McCook. Johnny took Benny’s absence harder than the woman who married him and the woman who loved him. Johnny changed the day Benny left. He seemed to age two days for every one that passed. His laughter dried up and his leadership got sour. Between Cal, Zipco, and a few of the other old guard, the Vandals held themselves together, but everyone could see that the winds of change were brewing, and the MC was on the edge of a permanent change. All that was left to do was to hold your breath and wait.

You were with Johnny Davis the day he died. You remembered the way that young kid had shot him, point blank, in some old abandoned parking lot on the western edge of town. All the light was gone from Johnny’s eyes by the time you reached him. The Vandals you knew died with him in that weedy parking lot that night. 

Zipco left about a month later for Texas. He sent you a few postcards, called you a couple times. After a while, there wasn’t anything left to say. You never stopped sending him his favorite bottle of bourbon at Christmas. Every once in a while, a customer would come in from out of town and tell you that your shop was personally recommended to them by a drunk, grouchy old Latvian who worked on a shrimping boat outside of Corpus Christi. 

One by one, the new Vandals stopped coming into your shop for their repairs and tune-ups. That was fine with you. You didn’t recognize any of the newcomers, and you doubted they recognized you, apart from vague memories of seeing you drinking and laughing in Junker’s next to the guys that they considered to be the past. Cross Roads Bikes was about four years old at that point, and you’d built enough of a non-MC customer base to survive the turnover. The day Cal came in and told you he’d turned in his patch and was planning to head back out to California, you knew that your last tie with the club had been cut. In some ways, it was relieving, in other ways, terrifying. You and Cal got shitfaced together that night and told old war stories about all the guys you’d known and lost. You cried like a baby when, two weeks later, you were standing on the sidewalk, watching Cal’s taillight fade into the Illinois dark as he headed out to the West Coast for the next chapter of his life. 

Much to your surprise, it was Sheila and Becky, Johnny’s widow, who became your new club. They took to bringing you sandwiches at the shop and sitting on the counter with you for lunch breaks, telling the did you hear? kind of stories that bond people with a loose circle of mutual acquaintances together. It was easy and fun and all three of you seemed to know that this was it. If you all let yourselves drift away, who was going to tell stories about the guys you’d all known? About the Vandals’ early days, the glory days? You three were all that was left. Ironic, you thought. A men’s club, survived by three women. 

Your life fell into a pattern. Productive, purposeful, content with little stains of sadness at the edges. But mostly, a good life. You were happy, and getting used to it every day. At some point, your life became predictable.

That’s why, one crisp fall morning as you stumbled out of bed at 6:00am to the waiting pot of Zipco-strong coffee and the stack of yesterday’s mail on the counter, the last thing you were expecting to see was the outline of a man sitting on your front porch steps. The black leather jacket with an original Vandals patch on the back, the Harley parked across the street, the tousled blonde hair. It was a ghost of a memory. 

You opened the front door a crack and looked down on the profile of Benny Cross. He was looking up at the neon Cross Roads Bike sign that Johnny and the rest of the club had gifted to you for your one-year anniversary at the shop. When he looked up at you with those same old blue eyes, it was like stepping into a dream.

“Hey.”

You closed the door behind you, offering him your mug of coffee as you wrapped your robe around you against the chill. “Hey.”

He scooched over to make room for you to join him. You did, tucking your knees up against your chest for warmth. The cold concrete of your porch steps bit into your backside. 

“Looks good,” Benny commented softly, gesturing up at the Cross Roads sign. The text was superimposed over an image of a motorcycle - an all-black 1965 Harley Electra-Glide, to be exact. The same bike that happened to be sitting across the street from you, where Benny had parked it. 

“Yea, yea,” you agreed gently, looking up at the sign with a sad smile. “Hope you don’t mind, I stole your bike. And your name.” 

When you looked back at Benny, a half-smirk was spreading across his face. He looked the same, although you could see that the road had been riding him just as much as the other way around. You knew that life. 

The two of you sat in silence for a while, sharing the same cup of coffee and a cigarette, letting the sun rise above the rooftops across the street. It was a comfortable, companionable quiet. It was the first time since you’d met Benny that you didn’t have the burning desire to try and put your feelings into words. After almost ten years of your heart orbiting his, you realized in the cold November morning that you had finally learned how to let him go. It was a bittersweet feeling, and you knew you’d never be able to put it into words, even if you tried. So the two of you were quiet together. 

When the city began to wake up around you and the demands of another day couldn’t be ignored any longer, you rose from your seat - cursing the way the cold made your hips stiff - and offered him a hand to help him up. He took it, thick calluses on his palm from years of riding. He stood up, still tall enough to tower over you, his jacket thick with the smell of the road - leather, diesel fuel, sweat, and cigarettes. 

“How long you in town for?” you asked as you held the door open for him behind you. He followed you in, kicking off his dirty boots at the door. 

“Not sure,” he replied with a note of nervousness. “Depends on how long you’ll let me stay.”

You smiled to yourself, your back turned to him as you refilled your coffee mug and poured a fresh one for him. 

“I got plenty of room, and plenty of work for ya, Benny. Long as you promise that you won’t leave without sayin’ goodbye this time.” He accepted the coffee in your outstretched hand with a heartbreakers’ smile. 

“Funny you mention it. I hadn’t planned on leavin’ this time.” He looked at you with a question in his eyes. You weren’t entirely sure what the question was. Do you forgive me? Is this ok? Are you alright? Did you miss me?

Whatever he was asking, your answer was yes. A very simple word, and easily one you could have said. But, just like moments before, you found that words just wouldn’t suffice, even such a simple one. 

So you crossed the kitchen, dropping your coffee mug and letting it splinter into pieces on the tile floor, splashing hot coffee on your ankles, and wrapped your arms around him. Benny’s mouth tasted exactly how you remembered, and when he folded his arms around you, you swore your feet no longer touched the ground. He was warm and strong against you, and for every question he pressed through that kiss into your lips, you answered with an enthusiastic yes. 

As you floated away into the sky towards what you’d heard others call “cloud nine” from your kitchen, the rest of the words of that old poem came drifting back to you:

Of all the things that can create, love is the one I most appreciate.

One thing I’ve come to know, nothing kills you slower than letting someone go.

But I will also tell you this, coming back to life can happen in the space of a single kiss.

***********************

Taglist: @real-lana-del-rey @putherup @dontcrydaddy @gilli-vanilli @faephoria @summer56 @seresinhangmanjake @patrycqv @rose-deathman @bellesdreamyprofile @imusicaddict @bruher @ripvanwinklee @meninecanela @enchantedinfinity @landlockedmermaid77 @nctma15 @hearts444emily @kajasagmo @1800imgay @oh-you-mean-me @allie-jay @suspicious-stain-in-spain

[devilmademewriteit]

Javier Peña & Joel Miller Headcanons (drabbles?)

another smutty edition. ohmygod this is filth.

warnings: rough sex/smut (oh boy. oral [both receiving], fingering, masturbation, cockwarming… & prolly more) so 18+ only content; stepdad!joel (againimsorry); dbf!joel; slapping, spanking, spitting; age gap; bratty!reader; smoking; petnames (sweetheart, angel, babygirl, baby) dubcon (coercion, intoxication, imbalanced power dynamic); like I said this is just pure filth—dead dove, do not eat.

Thank u guys for all the love on the last one !! I’ve got longer pieces coming soon, but in the meantime, enjoy this depravity based on yalls requests!! I’m going to hell!!

Join the taglist if you want moreeeeeee.

-em<3

—

Javi’s “boredom breaks” at work involved stealing you from behind your desk & coaxing you into giving him head from the passenger side of his Jeep Cherokee. Parked or driving, busy street or deserted parking lot, it was all the same to him—which meant onlookers, inevitably. Peña was indispensable at the embassy, so the voyeurs didn’t bother him, and he assured you that “nobody’s gonna recognize the receptionist by the back of her fuckin’ head.” In a dusty, empty side-street, Javier’s cock rhythmically prods the back of your throat. With one hand straddling the back of your neck, he grinds out a “fuck yeah, jus’ like that,” between deep pulls off his cigarette, ashing it out the open window with a quick flick of his fingernail.

“It’s fuckin’ hot, watching you take calls from all those corporate big-shots when I know you still got the taste of my cum on your tongue.”

Joel’s favourite position was doggy-style. Especially with both your hands pinned behind your back in his much larger, much stronger one; especially when your teasing had earned you some good-old-fashioned discipline. “Someone’s gotta fuck the brat outta you.” He’d pull out every time, even when you begged him not to, all so he could watch his hot seed spilling onto the red handprints branding your ass. But that always happened after he took in the swooping arch of your back, the way your skin yielded to his with every lazy slap he delivered to it—and, oh, your muffled sobs following his: “tell me—where’s that fuckin’ attitude get you?”

“S’right, sweetheart. Gets you on your knees, takin’ cock facedown like a lil’ slut.”

Sometimes, Javier just wanted to watch. “Show me, hermosa, how do you touch yourself when I’m away?” He’d relax in the armchair, an attentive audience member as he drank in the sight of you spread out on the bed, sliding a hand between your thighs. Those dark eyes never left yours, not even when he had to palm himself through his denim to relieve the aching desire building underneath. “Can tell you’ve been practicing for me.” & you’d finish with his name on your tongue, taking care to put every detail of your climax on display for him.

“You could be fuckin’ famous, y’know. I could film you just like that—my very own pornstar.”

One late-night in your father’s living room, you worked up the nerve to ask Joel to take your virginity so that it’d “be with someone who I like, who’ll take good care of me.” & he did such a good job, easing in oh-so-slowly, searching your eyes for any ounce of pain as he stretched you wide, wiiide open for him. “Fuck, maybe m’not the best person for this, sweetheart,” and it might’ve been true ‘cause his cock was almost too big to fit, squeezing in so, so tight between your fluttering walls. But eventually, it did, and then your dad’s best friend was rocking into you, muffling your soft cries of surprise, pain, pleasure, lust, abandon, and need in his palm.

“Sshh, sshh, s’alright, baby, s’alright. Jus’ focus on me, yeah? ‘Else your dad’s gonna find out I broke in his lil’ princess.”

Javi had never considered himself to be a jealous man. He was something of a sexual communist: cheating wasn’t cheating if it was just fucking, girlfriends were made to be shared, and only a self-denying idiot turned down any version of a threesome. But after that first time with you? That was all over. He’d have you straddling his lap on the brink of explosion, cunt dripping onto his bare thighs before finally lowering you onto every hard inch of himself—only to keep you still, his personal lil’ cockwarmer. “Tell me you’re mine, baby, tell me this pussy’s mine.” Saying the words wasn’t always enough for either of you to actually believe them, so Javi would fuck you—hard—until they were true, until he was certain that you belonged to him. Till he tore cries of worship from your lips and orgasms from your cunt.

“I know, querida, feels so good to surrender, don’t it?”

Stepdad!Joel picking you up from a party in his big ol’ truck with a couple of his drinking buddies tagging along. This time, he lets you sit in the front. “Ain’t she a stunner?” Blushing as the others mumble in agreement. Soon, Joel’s rough hand is crawling up your thigh. “We thought up a way you could thank us for the ride, angel.” Your cunt warms at the feel of his fingers slipping between your folds. It starts to pulse at the idea of being filled so full by 3 men at once, and it nearly aches at the thought of pleasing Joel. “You’re a big girl now, ain’t that right?” Parking the car, pulling you onto his lap, bunching your shirt up above your tits and exposing you to a car-full of leering eyes.

“N’ big girls take care of more’n just one cock at a time, sweetheart.”

It was obvious from the start that Peña, Murphy, and (especially) Carrillo didn’t abide by any kind of rule book in the field. It shocked you, nonetheless, the first time you watched Agent Peña put a bullet through a sicario‘s head. “We’re the good guys, sweetheart.” But it didn’t feel that way. For months, it didn’t feel that way, and you refused to be alone in a room with him. Not because he scared you, but because you were afraid of how his gratuitous violence had excited you. You managed to avoid him, until, one afternoon, he cornered you in the filing room—like a writhing tail caught in a mousetrap—his amused expression underpinned by a familiar kind of danger.

“You wanna pretend I’m the bad guy? S’fine, querida, I can live with that. But your pussy’s wet just thinkin’ about it, so at least have the decency to let me fuck you like one.”

When Joel ate you out, it was always as a reward. He liked doing it, of course, but he was an impatient man who worshipped the feel of a woman’s cunt wrapped around his cock (he’d cut blowjobs short for god’s sake, pulling you mid-gag off his length just to fuck you, instead). You memorized how pretty he looked with his head between your thighs, grey-speckled beard glistening with your very own slick. “F’you keep squirmin’ around like that, angel, m’gonna have to tie you up. Stay put.” Thighs hitched over his broad shoulders, voice hoarse from the never-ending moans his mouth and his fingers enticed from you over and over and over again. “Been such a good listener, baby,” and your fingers ran through his hair, streams of freshwater gushing between great, snow-flecked pines. But the best part came after: even his praise didn’t compare to the feel of his thumb against your chin, prying you open as he spat a wad of saliva onto your tongue.

“Open up for me, tha’s right. Y’see how good that pretty lil’ pussy tastes?”

Bonus fluff/angst:

He’d never meant to hurt you, of course. Javi wasn’t the greatest at the whole ~relationship~ thing, and even though you hadn’t defined whatever it was that, together, you shared, it still hurt like hell, finding out he was still screwing around. He hadn’t broken any promises, per se, but your crestfallen expression made him feel as though he’d committed a federal offence. “Baby, if I’da known…” and he’s kneeling down, (praying at the foot of your altar), gazing up at you with plea-filled, onyx black eyes before pressing his forehead to your abdomen, holding your hips between his hands as if you were sacred to him.

“I just… I need you like the fuckin’ air I breathe, hermosa. I hate myself for hurting you.”

You’d always had a bit of a school girl crush on dad’s best friend, Joel. Who could blame you? He was capable, funny, handsome—and oh, how you hated bringing friends over while he was in the house, too, ‘cause they giggled and flirted with him and it made you livid. This time, you actually had to step into the garage and light up a sneaky smoke just to find some fucking peace again. That’s where he found you, leaning defeatedly against the beer fridge; you frantically put the smoking tip out, cursing yourself for your carelessness. Joel raised his eyebrows at the cigarette before smiling in amusement. Then, he surprised you by pressing a big, warm, tender palm to your cheek.

“You’re always gonna be my favourite. You know that, right?”

—

TAGLIST: @millllenniawrites @mads-grace4 @anyas-stuff @liviloo12346 @bookofbee @mattmurdocksgirlfriend @stardust-chords-enthusiast @fruitcupsworld @sallymilkweed @sullysflm @sexygaypalpatine @livyjh @s-unflowxr @lostsoldieronahill @maudlinflowers @inkedells @ayehomo @chapterhappygirl @raeluvshammett @buckysmainhxe @silkiers @jupitersmoon-cal

[starrykirsche]

hihihii !! ( i absolutely love your writings. )

before i start the request i just wanted to day english is not my mother tounge so sorry if i am messing anything up. <3

but can you do something with sub!bill x reader? maybe something where reader hasnt let him cum for a few days and hes like begging her to let him cum. obviously reader lets him but yeah thats just the request !! if u can do it its completely fine also xx.

thanks for the request! and don’t worry anon you’re english is really good :3

i love this ideaaa

(also; yayy i got this out finally!!)

Too Much

a sub!Bill Kaulitz fanfic

content: femdom!reader (but honestly there are no mentions of it being a fem!reader), begging, edging

synopsis: after “so long” Bill’s gotten desperate..

translations: “Schnucki” is a german term of endearment that translates to: “Sweetie” or “Sweetie Pie”

“Oh c’mon! It’s been three days,” Bill pleads, walking after you, “Do you know what that will do to a man?”

You chuckle softly and turn back to look at him. His hazel eyes are wide and needy, his cheeks flush, and his breath heavy. “It can’t be all that bad, Billy.”

Bill whines at that and throws his head back, “It is!” You turn back around to grab your car keys. “Please! You can’t leave me like this!”

“Can’t I?” You respond teasingly.

“C’mon.. the way you were kissing me, and- and touching me, I thought you were finally gonna let me..” He trails off with an embarrassed whimper.

“Let you what?” You say, running your hand up his side.

“I’m going crazy here, Schnucki…” Bill whines, burying his fingers in your hair, “Please…”

Smiling, you can’t help but pity your poor boyfriend. “Hm, maybe with a bit of convincing, I’ll let you.”

His eyes light up and he nods eagerly. Bill grabs your wrist and begins to pull you back to the bed. Incoherent thanks leaving his lips.

For the past three days, the only slack you’ve cut him is some kissing and heavy petting. His libido, as strong as ever, has basically short circuited his brain at this point. He’d do anything to cum. You knew it, and he knew it.

Sitting on the bed once more, Bill was practically shaking with excitement.

“Beg,” You say sweetly, carding your fingers through his hair. He whines and kisses her cheek, his fingers curling into your thighs as he looks at you like you’re the sun, the moon, and the stars.

“Please… I’ve been good. I haven’t touched myself or- or done anything bad. I swear I’ll be a good boy..” He mumbles, “Please, please, I- I need this.. I need it.”

Bill continues to plead incoherently, while a smile is painted on your face. He’s always so cute when her like this, it almost makes you want to torture him a bit longer… but you won’t. Not when he wants it this bad.

You shush him and he quickly stops his begging, just limpid panting comes from him now. “Okay.. okay…”

A broken little grin pulls at his pouty lips and you begin to pull his pajama pants off. Leaning back obediently, he squirms with excitement. Bill’s erection springs out and your sure you’ve never seen it so… intense. The tip is red and leaking, twitching. He bites his lip and looks at you hopefully. You slowly lean over and kiss his lips, taking the base of his dick into your hand. Bill groans like it’s been years since anything has touched it, babbling your praise as you begin to slowly stroke his weeping erection.

He reaches out for you so pitifully. Giving him your free hand, he holds it in both of his, gently kissing your fingers as you give him what he’s begged for. “I love you so much…” Bill pants against the skin of your palm. You continue with your slow, but firm strokes. Bit by bit… you speed up. He whines, and squirms. His body twitching, his mouth agape.

And just as quickly as it started, it ended. A white hot flash of light splintering up through Bill’s body before a sticky white substance covers your hand. You let go of his overwhelmed, twitching dick and smile. Licking his climax off of your hand, his body twitches at odd times. Bill’s eyes are heavy lidded and his breathes are deep and short.

“Pl-Please..” You hear Bill breathily say.

“Please what?” You say back.

He whines and reaches his arms out for you again, his eyes basically shut, “Lay with me,” Bill whines. With a soft giggle you tug his pajama pants back up and settle in beside him. He wraps his arms beside you with the little strength in them he has left.

“I love you…” Bill mumbles.

“I love you too,” You respond, “Did it feel good..?”

“Amazing.” He says in a boarder line moan.

“Good.” You mumble back.

With that, Bill softly falls asleep.

deine, kirsche. ✮

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

If you allow me, I request also a mafia AU hurt/comfort please and thank you and love you <3

You're so sweet! 🥰 Hope you enjoy the Mafia boys and their rather unhinged version of hurt/comfort. 🖤

My gasoline

Words: 981

Rated: E

Tags: Mafia AU; Mob boss Dick Harrington; Hitman Eddie Munson; Intrigue; Secret relationship; Mutual obsession; Explicit sexual content; Handjobs; Nudity; Rough sex; Child abuse; Blood and violence

Notes: Previous part | Part 1

In the end, the decision that alters the course of Eddie’s life is made a lot faster than he thought. It comes, as all of the choices that have brought him to this moment, in the shape of Steve Harrington.

Eddie is in Dick’s office, tasked with retrieving a stack of documents for a negotiation the boss has going on downstairs, when the door flies open and the boy comes storming in, face oddly blank but eyes blazing.

“Your father's in a meeting,” Eddie says, carefully neutral. They don't talk to each other on official turf. As far as Dick is aware, they don't even know each other. “If you wish, I can forward him a-”

“Shut up and fuck me,” Steve growls, slipping a warm, slick tongue past his teeth.

Eddie hisses in protest as his back collides with a shelf and some books clatter to the ground. Steve doesn’t pay him any mind, just grabs one of his hands and shoves it down the front of his gym shorts. He's not wearing anything underneath, and well, what can Eddie say? He's always been a weak man, especially when it comes to Steve.

A few minutes pass like this. Eddie slowly stroking Steve to hardness, sucking and biting at every bit of skin he can reach, until the boy is bucking and squirming in his hold. Steve moans, the sound ringing off the walls in the silent office, and Eddie squeezes his base warningly.

“Hush, honey,” he admonishes. “As much as I like making you scream, your old man's right down the stairs. Keep your voice down.”

When tries to capture that sweet mouth for another kiss, Steve bites down on his bottom lip. Eddie swears and pulls back, tasting copper on his tongue.

“Screw my dad,” Steve snaps, fingernails leaving angry welts on the skin of Eddie’s hips as he yanks on his pants. “I said fuck me. What's wrong, are you scared of him or are you too stupid to-”

Eddie spins him around in one fluid motion, trapping his wrists behind his back and bending him over the massive hardwood desk.

“That how you want it, sweetheart?” he snarls into Steve's ear, pinning him down with his own weight and pulling his shorts down one-handed. “Be my fucking guest.”

The desk rattles as he rolls his hips, grinding his clothed cock against warm, naked skin.

Steve gasps.

And Eddie stops.

Because that sound had nothing to do with passion or arousal. That sound was only pain.

“What’s wrong?” he asks before he can think better of it, vision already alight with the first crawling tendrils of red. Steve freezes, briefly, but then he makes an impatient sound and starts to struggle in his hold.

“Nothing,” he snaps, trying to push back to seek friction, neck bending in that delicious, long arch that’s just begging to be put in a collar and leash. “C’mon, what are you waiting for, just take-”

Eddie whirls him back around. Steve yelps and loses his balance, but Eddie doesn’t pause, just pushes him down into the office chair and pulls up his shirt.

“No, stop,” Steve says, but it’s too late. Eddie has already seen it.

For a few moments, the office is dead silent, bar for the ticking of the clock on the wall and the voices wafting in from downstairs. When Eddie speaks, his voice is nothing more than a gravelly rumble.

“Who?” His hand traces the mottled patchwork of yellow and purple bruises on Steve's stomach. “Who did this?”

“Eddie-” Steve starts to say, and makes to stand from the chair. Eddie pushes him back down.

“No. Who?”

Steve sighs, long and exhausted.

“Who do you think?” he asks, and Eddie feels something heavy and cold settle in his chest. “He doesn't go for my face, usually. Gotta keep up appearances, huh?”

He laughs, a dry and humorless thing, but it dies in his throat quick as it started when he sees the look on Eddie’s face.

“I’m going to kill him,” Eddie mutters. His fingertips hover over the bruised skin, shaking with barely restrained rage. The crimson tendrils are threatening to swallow his vision and his knife feels warm and tantalizing where it is hidden in the hilt of his boot. “I’m gonna cut out his fucking-”

“No.” He’s taken the first step towards the door already when Steve’s hand on his wrist makes him pause. “I don't want him killed.”

Eddie whips around, mouth twisted on a snarl, ready to argue … but then he sees the look on Steve's face.

“What do you want, darling?” he breathes. His knees hit the floor with soft thud as he sinks down by Steve’s feet. “Just say the word.”

Steve’s voice is sweet as he speaks, but his eyes are dark and intense.

“I want him destroyed. I want to make him watch while everything he owns goes up in flames. I want him to spend the rest of his pathetic little life crawling in the dirt, knowing what he had and what he lost. Will you do that for me?”

The grin that pulls at Eddie’s lips is painful in its intensity, almost as painful as his adoration for this boy. That same fire he felt licking at his heart the day he first saw him, that has only ever gotten stronger and is now ready to consume everything in its path.

Steve smiles, sweet and lethal like poisoned honey, as Eddie takes his hand and presses a reverent kiss to his knuckles.

“You know I'd do anything for you, sweetheart,” Eddie purrs. “But that? I don't think there's anything in the world I'd do more gladly.”

Steve cups his face with his free hand, pulling him in for a kiss, and the feeling is like a match touching gasoline. Eddie closes his eyes and welcomes the flames.

More celebration ficlets

[wukong-s-only-wife5000]

Since you're doing requests, can you write for Hero is Back? Maybe "Boyfriend Material"? (Assuming the master list is a prompt list)

HiB!Wukong: Boyfriend Material.

Word Count: 1236

Rating: T for some language. Fluffy.

Content/Trigger Warnings: N/A.

Authors Notes: Not a prompt list, but if someone (like yourself) requests based on one listed, I'm taking it as a sign to finally get it done. :3 Also, thank you for being my first HiB requested. 🥺🥺🥺

Hope you enjoy!

Honestly… he has no idea what he's doing with you 98% of the time. He doesn't even know how he managed to get you in the first place! However… You're his world. His reason for living, his everything. Make no mistake about how crazy he is about you or what he’s willing to do to keep you happy; so know that he’s trying his best.

He has absolutely no idea what he’s doing, so you have to be patient with him and help guide him. He’s got street smarts, but he’s lacking in the book smarts and feelings department. Like most men, he’s clueless as to what you want, he’s a warrior after all, he’s not used to being… loved. He’s used to being misunderstood, so you have to be patient with the poor monkey boy.

He may be clueless about your advances at times, but make no mistake, he isn't the same with other men. He notices when others are interested in you and is ready to throw hands if someone doesn't leave you alone, especially if they decide to get handsy. He's your warrior, your protector whether you need it or not, and he takes that job very seriously. 

Even if you can defend yourself with his strict teachings, he wants to be your first line of defence against the enemy. If you get even a scratch, he’ll be pouty and grouchy the entire time after… but be careful, he may just be doing it so he can get your affection and reassurance. 

“Wukong, are you sure this is the right way?” you question him as he guides you through the thick forest.

“Stop whining, we’re almost there,” he told you for what would have to be the tenth time in seventeen minutes.

“If you tell me where we’re going, then I won't be so pestering,” you shot back at him. 

“No, we both know that’s a lie,”

“Please?” you looked up at him, but he held the top of your head and positioned your head forward again. “Wukong,” you whined.

“Quit whining, or I’ll change my mind,”

“Change your mind on what?!” you were getting frustrated, the anticipation was eating you alive from the inside out, but his lips remained shut about where he was taking you.

When you saw it, your breath was knocked out of your lungs. It was the most beautiful thing you had ever seen: the breathtaking view, a picnic set up for two, and the stars peeking in with the setting sun. 

“You did all this?” you looked up at him, but he refused to look at you and instead walked over to the mat and sat down. He looked up at you and held out his long arm for you, staring at you with those adoring eyes you loved so much.

“Are you coming or what? The food will spoil,” he teased, which snapped you out of whatever trance you were previously in. You walked over to him and sat down beside him with a grin on your face as he wrapped an arm around you. 

“I still can't believe you did all of this for me,” 

“Hm,” was all he stubbornly responded, but his flustered face told you a lot.

“You're so sweet,” you smiled as you leaned against his side and looked at the spread… that's when you noticed something… the food was poorly wrapped but somehow holding together. 

“Wow…” 

“What?” he asked as he looked down at you nervously.

“It's just… this is a lot of food,” you smiled up at him. “And you made these all by yourself?”

“Yeah,” he rubbed the back of his head. “You've been stressed lately, so I wanted to-”

“I've been stressed? Have you met yourself?” you laughed a bit before you tackled him in a hug. “You're the Great Sage, and I’m the one who’s stressed?” you looked over his features with a small smile. 

“Well, you have,” he smiled a bit as he shifted a bit to be comfortable with you on him. “I was worried.”

“Now you know how I feel every single day with a boyfriend like you,” you shot back and snuggled into his chest. He smelled so good and his fur was super soft. “Did you condition?”

“Thank you for noticing,”

“Okay, now I know something’s up. Did I forget an anniversary?” you looked at him accusingly. “What did you do?”

“Nothing,” he said lazily as he rubbed your back. “Can't I surprise my girlfriend?”

The title made you feel like a giddy schoolgirl and gave you butterflies every single time. He always said it with a sense of boundless pride and smugness.

“Sure, but usually you do it to make up for something you did that I might yell at you for,” you stated, which wasn't wrong.

“Well,” he chuckled and caressed your cheek and kissed your nose softly. “Not today.”

“If you say so,” you smiled at him, melting into liquid with such affection from the typically unreadable male. 

“Do you want the food or not?” he nuzzled his nose against yours.

“Yes, please,” you smiled and watched him dish out what smelled like beef-filled dumplings. “So you made this all by yourself?”

“Yes,” he said and offered one to you. “It should be cool enough to eat by now.”

“Then feed one to me,” you teased your secret romantic.

“You're enjoying this, aren't you?” he looked at you in slight annoyance, making you grin at him. 

“Quite so,” you nodded. “You've entrapped my heart, let me tease you a bit to make up for it,” you teased. 

Now that got his heart racing and brought a blush to his face. He didn't take long to submit to your request and held one of the misshapen dumplings to your lips with a pair of chopsticks. You were a bit hesitant to take a bite, but not wanting to hurt your boyfriend’s feelings, you opened your mouth and took a bite into the treat. 

The texture was much to be desired, but for his first time, it tasted amazing. The beef was fully cooked, even though the dumplings could have used a few more minutes of steaming. Wukong watched you and your reactions, studying you fully, half expecting you to gag and half expecting you to spit it out in his face.

“Could have used a few more minutes of steaming,” you said honestly. “Other than that, they're sooooo good,” you grinned up at him, which made him relax.

“Hm,” was all he said before he took a bite out of a dumpling. “It's edible,” he shrugged.

“That it is,” you grinned at him. You turned your attention to the breathtaking view of the sunset, he really outdid himself for a simple date.

“Honestly…” his voice got your attention, and you tilted your head curiously. “I just… wanted to do something nice for you, to show you that….” Gods, this was embarrassing. “That I love you… a lot.”

“Awe,” you were a giggling mess as you leaned against him. “I love you too, Wukong, so, so much.”

You both sat there in silence and at some point, he positioned you between his legs and wrapped his arms around you. You ate in silence and enjoyed the quiet outdoors together as the moonlight blessed you both with its light.  

So yeah, I think it’s safe to say he’s more than boyfriend material.

[riddles-fiddles]

hello asdfgsjdldkl this is a half fluffy half spicy request, how would you feel about writing a fem/gn mc who is autistic, but here’s the twist (lol)—their special interest is kink/bdsm? maybe they’re a bit shy about it at first since it’s not exactly something you just TALK about but one day they somehow end up infodumping? with Lilia, Idia, Vil, and Malleus, if that’s okay? (bonus points for mc being a sub ghjkslahsksl) (also if you’re not sure about how to write an autistic mc that’s totally fine, thank you for your service /gen ajshsjskdkl)

I tried to write this based on how my ADHD brain works with my special interests, so I hope this isn't as terrible lol also since you didn't say which kinks you'd like to see, I kept them a little bit more on the generalized side. If you'd like something more specific you can request again. Anyways thank you kindly for this lovely request, I had lots of fun writing it /gen <3

Synopsis: the boys are very intriguided to know about your secret special interest~ Characters: Vil Schoenheit, Idia Shroud, Malleus Draconia, Lilia Vanrouge Tags: NSFW, smut with context, bondage play, master/servant, power play, spanking/impact play Notes: gender neutral reader (unspecified body parts), everyone is 18+, excuse any grammatical errors,,,

•·.·''·.·•ˏˋ°•*•·.·''·.·•ˏˋ°•*•·.·''·.·•ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

Vil looks down on you with an amused expression as you moan and buck your hips up, searching for the friction you so desesperately need from his hands. You were pressed against the couch with your wrists firmly tied up on your back and your legs held apart by the leather belts, your dripping arousal entirely exposed and unable to wiggle too much, keeping you on the edge of your climax as you relied on Vil's painfully slow and light touches. It all started from one of Vil's fashion jobs. Being one of Twisted Wonderland's most beloved supermodels, he was offered to take a catwalk under the name of a high-end brand trying to test a new niche of clothing and creative display: a mix of kinky props and everyday clothing, with emphasis on office attire.

Vil looks absolutely dazzling on his violet blue formal shirt, sleeves rolled up his elbows to expose the shoulder-lenght latex gloves. A black leather chest harness hugs his figure perfectly, highlighting his curves and accentuating his proportions, his clothing, paired with the sensual makeup, gave him a rather imposing, bossy feel - the perfect face of a dangerous temptation, especially for you.

So much you can't help but unload all the little details about harness fashion you know about, about how they can be used to better pick on certain body parts, how they can be used for bondage and how you would love to try some on-

"Hush now, my precious nightingale. I love it when you sing for me like that, but…" He coos softly, his breath tickling against the hot skin of your cheek as his fingers came to press against your lips, gently nudging them open; a taunt and a promise of something more to come. "…I would hate it if the agency's staff came into my dressing room to find you like this."

Your eyes widen, suddenly remebering that anybody could walk in on any second, curious about the amount of noise coming out of Vil's room. As you slowly part your lips to welcome his gloved fingers, you hear a low chuckle of satisfaction coming. "Good puppy," Vil's whisper melts on your ears like dripping honey as his fingers make their way between uour teeth, playing with your tongue. "You deserve a reward for being so well behaved."

"Y-you feel so g-good, darling…" Idia groans in contentment before slamming his cock deep inside you once more. A shaky, devilish laugh rolls off his tongue as he watches the way you struggle to keep you hand steady, trying your best to pour some tea without allowing even the tiniest drop to stain the sheets.

Idia was the one trying to suggest new things for you two to try out - on his own nerdy, embarrassed ways. He was too scared to openly admit his kinks, thinking that maybe you could find him a weirdo, so he would casually comment about something like he was just talking about the news, or even pointing out something unusual on a character from some anime.

However, Idia soon discovered about the hype of cat maid cafés, and as he 'innocently' showed you some of the recipes and how you could pick your maid's personality, he was surprised to see how it had sparked your interest, his face going alight as you passionately unravel about your love for cute maid outfits and how you do own one. Idia wasn't one to make bold moves, but that was just too good of an opportunity to let it slip away from his fingers, so he lightly suggests to see you with it…

And now you found yourself full-on roleplaying. Taking in the role of a humble, diligent maid to your master, you faced multiple challenges as Idia reveled on your misery, trying to keep yourself composed while serving him.

Idia's fingernails dig on your hips, pulling down on the black skirt as he bucks up against you, low gasps leaving his lips. You need to bite down on your lips to contain a curse, holding onto the teacup between your hands for dear life. "So cute and obedient…" You shiver at his praise, his voice laced with dark desire, pushing you down on his lap.

You are surprised by his hand possessively wrapping around your chin, forcing your face to turn to him. Before you can mouth any sound, he captures your lips, making your grip finally falter, droplets of tea splasing over Idia's legs.

"Oh no, seems like you've made a mess… better clean it up quick if you don't wanna be punished, huh?" He smirks with mischief, his pointy teeth grazing over your shoulder threateningly.

You shudder in antecipation under Malleus' firm grip around the back of your neck, pushing your face down into the sheets. His throaty growl lingers over your body, leaving goosebumps under your skin. "Mine," Malleus rasps, his teeth sinking down on your back, leaving behind a perfect mark. "And I'll make sure everyone knows who you belong to." Malleus is very curious regarding everything that involves human nature, entertained by even the simplest of things. It wasn't uncommon to find him nose deep inside books, drinking in the particularities of the ones so exquisite for his fae standards.

While spending the afternoon with you in Ramshackle Dorm, quietly fidgeting through your phones and simply enjoying each other's company, he accidentally looked over your smartphone right in time to catch you scrolling down on a Magicam post about 'power play'. His interest is immediately piqued, intrigued by whatever it meant; Malleus points it out, interested to know more about it, and as you eagerly explains what it means, Malleus nods and hums in understanding, his mind working out on this new discovery.

"That's a very exquisite concept. Tell me, Child of Man, would you be willing to give me a practical demonstration on the matter? I'm certain I could understand it better this way."

You tried to keep Malleus pinned down on the bed, your hands firmly wrapping around his wrists to keep him still. Your attempt in dominance only the Fae Prince, who effortlessly turned you to lay on your belly, restraining you by the arms. "Looks like I am the winner of this little dispute. Shall I indulge in my prize now?"

"Easy now, sugar bat. If you tense up too much, it will hurt even more." A low chuckle rolls off Lilia's tongue, mischief mixed with tenderness etched on his cherry-coloured eyes. The paddle on his hand slowly runs over your warmed thighs, the sensitive skin shivering and squirming under the rough leather feel, teasing and threatening to strike once more.

"Back in my day, those devices were used as torture tools to coax prisoners into talking about their secrets. Now, they are used in intimate rendezvous to give pleasure induced by pain." Lilia giggles, an innocent smile gracing his lips - a very fake one. The glint on his eyes suggesting some sly, hidden interest, like he wasn't just silently reading the fanfiction you were writing on your phone.

"So, you're interested on the complexities of pain and pleasure, huh? Would you like to indulge in a demonstration? I'll be more than happy to lead you into this forbidden experience, my dear." How could you deny such a confident, tantalizing suggestion? You knew a lot about the theoretical thing, having read a lot about fiction or even health-related articles about BDSM and impact play. Despite being shy about it, you knew you could trust Lilia.

"You're doing very well, sweetheart," Lilia's whisper is sweet and reassuring as his fingers gently thread between your locks, a soothing gesture in contrast to the dry impact of the paddle against your buttcheeks, marking the skin with a pinkish colour. The leather leaves a stinging sensation, making you gasp and squirm over Lilia's lap. He leans in to press a soft kiss on your forehead, a sly smirk playing at the corner of his lips. "Only ten more to go."

[no-one-at-all75]

hi!! I’m so glad that you’re back and reviving the cypher love :’)) I have a cypher request!!

I was wondering if you could write a cypher x reader fic based on the song “older” by isabel larosa?? reader will be 18+ obvi but i always think abt cypher when listening to the song :p I’d prefer female reader but am ok with gn!! thank u again <3

You know I had to listen to the full song before answering this... AND I LOVE IT! I can definitely see why you think of Cypher when listening to it. Your wish is my command! Requests are open :)

Important note! There are some bits in here that go back to the past, those are in ~italics~. Present day will be normal.

Someone Older (Female Reader) (Implied NSFW)

Cypher x Reader implied smut

Warnings: Age gap, implied being used in past relationships, touching, slight sexual content

Word Count: 2,381

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Being a 20 year old woman in the dating scene in this day in age absolutely sucked. You felt like you were being tossed around, never listened to, only being used for your good looks and sex appeal. You finally had enough, and decided to run away from your hometown and joined The Valorant Protocol because you'd rather be shot than ghosted for the 20th time.

Upon arrival, you could basically sniff out the fuck boys from the group. Phoenix would always call you sexy in the hallways. Chamber would invite you to his yacht so he could have a 'private chat' with you. Gekko would pester you about teaching you some new dance moves which may or may not involve limited clothing. You'd always turn everyone down, of course. No one, and I mean no one, could get you to date ever again.

You were sitting in your room relaxing and playing music on your phone when someone knocked at the door. You rolled your eyes assuming it was another boy asking you to teach him how to shoot a gun. You dragged your feet to the door and opened it with an unamused face that quickly dropped when you saw who was at the door. It was your senior, Cypher. You always felt a little intimidated by his masked appearance, always wondering why he hides his face. You've, of course, imagined what it looks like and secretly hoped he was as attractive as you imagined. But, you've never shown any interest in him, trying to keep a cold exterior to ward off fuck boys. You slightly lean on the doorframe in a relaxed appearance, a small smile gracing your lips.

"Well well well. What brings you to my room?" You ask while your eyebrow lifts in question. He clears his throat a bit before speaking.

"We have a mission soon (Y/N). I would like to plan with you on what we should do and how to execute it." His gravely voice sang a song in your ears. You quickly dispel any thoughts before speaking again. You cross your arms across your chest.

"I'm game. Where are we meeting and when?" You get straight to the point so he can go away as quick as possible so he doesn't see the small blush making its way to your cheeks.

"Just meet me in my lab in about an hour. We can go over lots of details in there." He leans on the same side of the doorframe as you and slightly leans in. You could feel his breath fanning over your nose as his bright blue eyes stare into your (E/C) eyes. You look down and stand straight up. You look back into his eyes with confidence.

"I'll be there old man." You say with a smile. He lets out a chuckle before grabbing your chin with his hand and squeezing it slightly. All of the impure thoughts came flooding back in. You knew the blush you were desperately trying to hide was back now. You feel his breath on your face again before he speaks.

"Old? I think you mean experienced little one. See you in an hour." He swiftly let go of your chin and shut the door. You stood there dumbfounded as to what just happened. You feel your face burn as you walk over to your bed and sit down. You couldn't stop one thought that took over your mind quickly.

I think I need someone older...

`

You look down at your feet as the boat gets closer and closer to its destination. A gun in your hands, ready to attack your doppelgänger. You let out a small breath as you feel the boat slow down and pull into a port. You raise your eyes up and look at your team. You were confident that you will win this fight. As soon as the boat stops, everyone files out and begins to go to their stations as planned. You followed Cypher as he guided you to an optimal sniper position where he would be watching. You were to protect him at all costs. Your eyes dart around making sure no one is near when his voice breaks the silence.

"Stop being so tense little one. I know it's stressful, but I know you can do it." His words sink into your ears. Your eyes focused on him as he leads the way to the sniper nest.

Once there, you set up a few traps just before the entrance so you are alerted if anyone is coming. When everything is set, you go up to the nest with Cypher and sit down, your back against the wall he is looking out of. Your eyes focus on the ground, then wander to him and his position. You watch as his hands skillfully build the sniper rifle he is using, almost mesmerized by his fingers. A chuckle breaks you out of your trance. You look up at his eyes with a questionable look.

"What? Why are you laughing?" You ask trying to sound serious. His chuckle dissipates and he sighs.

"I know how much you love my hands and what they do for you little one. It's cute." He teases. Your mind is replaying what happened that night when you and Cypher were talking about the mission.

~

You were both lounging around his lab talking strategies and plans for almost 5 hours now. Everyone else who was involved with the mission left to go to bed already or got bored and left. Currently, Cypher was telling you stories of his past missions, some of which made you laugh. After a laughing fit, his mask bore into your eyes.

"Why did someone like you join Valorant? I know it's not my place to ask but I'm genuinely curious." His voice was soft like silk and sweet as honey when he asked that. You gave a faint smile back.

"Well, I was tired of my old life. Same thing, different day, it got repetitive. I wanted to escape. Feel worthy of something again. Not just cast aside like I always was." You put your arms behind your head and stared at the ceiling, letting your answer sink into the air. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Cypher look down, in thought, then look back at you.

"When you escaped, you must've left someone behind, right? A pretty thing like you must've had someone." He quizzed as he lifted up his mask slightly to sip on tea he made. You look back at him and shrugged your shoulders.

"Nah, not really. One of the reasons I left actually. I was getting treated like shit and was tired of it." You sat up fully now, your shoulders slumped as you looked at your senior with doe eyes. He hummed in acceptance as he placed his mug to the side, but not putting down his mask like he usually would.

"I'm sorry (Y/N) that no one has treated you fairly in the past. If I'm honest, you're quite the catch." He said as he stood up and walked over to your seated position. "I think, you need someone who will see you for who you are. Intelligent, funny, cute, and inspiring." You could see his smile when he said this. It almost made you completely melt.

"That's what I've been looking for, but, it never came." You looked up at him, his hand connecting to the side of your face and cupping it.

"My dear." His sultry voice rang out. "I think you've been looking in the wrong places."

~

You feel your face burn up as you hear him laugh. You quickly hit his thigh with your hand in playful anger. He lets out a breathy 'ouch' before chuckling again.

"This isn't the time or place Cypher! We could get shot any minute!" Your worries pushed the unclean images out of your head. He hummed before looking down his sniper scope.

"In this line of work my dear, it's never the right time. That's why we take advantage of the opportunities we are given." He smiles and looks back at you, you give him a small smile back before you drift off into a day dream again.

~

His lips on yours felt heavenly. Something you've never felt before with guys your age, but he wasn't your age. He was something different entirely. He breaks off the kiss to check in on you. Your eyes open a bit and your face flushes. He lets out a small chuckle, a smile adorning his face as he leaves you in a chair to go close all the blinds.

"I must say, you have me excited. Who knew a girl like you could fall for an older man hmm?" His voiced laced with a teasing tone. The room progressively gets darker when the blinds are shut. Soon, it is almost pitch black in the room. The only exception being the blue lights coming from his equipment and computer. You internally panic before you feel his hands on you again, but this time, theres no gloves. You mumble out a confused sound before you feel lips on your neck kissing you trying to find your sweet spot.

"I apologize for the lighting. I'm not ready for you to see all of me yet. I hope you understand little one." He continues to kiss down your neck. You give out a small moan when he hits your spot. You can feel his lips curl into a smile before sucking and nipping on the spot. Your moans grow as he abuses it.

"W-What am I to you, a secret?" You ask in between moans. You feel his hands explore your body. You feel when they go under your shirt and grasp onto your breasts.

"For now, yes. I don't think people would like someone older like me with someone younger. Let this be our little secret, mkay?" His voice gets rougher the more he touches you, the more he feels you. You nod your head and let yourself enjoy the moment, alone with him. His lips catch you in another kiss when you feel his wandering hands snake their way into your pants.

~

You feel a slight nudge on your shoulder. You tumble back into reality, your face a burning red. You look up at your superior, he is gazing down at you.

"Replaying that night again my dear?" You could hear the smile on his face. You huff and place your forehead into your hands.

"I'm sorry. I'm supposed to be serious and all right now. But, I can't help but think back to that night you know? I've never been treated that way before." You answer honestly, still avoiding his gaze. You lift your head up out of your hands and stare at the floor for a moment to focus. You look back at Cypher expectantly, hoping for an answer from the older man.

"Well, I'm glad I can take the weight off of your shoulders my dear. I hope you know it wasn't a one time deal. I crave you too. I always think back to that night." His voice tapers off as he focuses. "We can talk about it later, for now, we have company." His voice turns cold, as if he was an entirely different man. You take a deep breath and focus, so you can go home with Cypher.

`

You suddenly wake up to someone jostling you. You slowly open your eyes to find that you were back. Your hands meet with your eyes, rubbing the sleep out of them, before looking at who shook you awake. You blink a few times before noticing a comrade, Neon, grabbing your shoulders and shaking you more.

"(Y/N)? (Y/N) you passed out on the ride home. (Y/N) come on wakey wakey!" Her energetic voice seemed to bounce off of your brain. You sat up and gave her a small scowl.

"Come on Neon! I was in the middle of a dream." You complained as you pouted your lips.

"I'll say, you were moving around a lot there (Y/N)." Your blood almost froze when you heard Cyphers voice. You turned to him with shy eyes, a small blush flooding your cheeks.

"I'm so sorry I fell asleep on you Cypher. It won't happen again." You profusely apologized to keep your secret. He got up and ruffled your hair, making it a mess.

"Don't worry about it little one. It's my pleasure to be your pillow." His cheerful voice dissipated as he left the boat. Neon stood there with her hands on her hips, looking at you like a Golden Retriever.

"Soooo now that that's over, wanna go get food?" She asks you, a smile gracing her lips. You smile back before standing up and stretching.

"Food sounds great right now. Let's go!" You say as you run off of the boat getting a head start. You can faintly hear a 'NO FAIR' from Neon as she quickly catches up with you.

`

After eating your way into a food coma, you lay face first down into your bed and let out a groan before flipping over. You stare at the ceiling, wondering if you should go to Cypher's lab or to just sleep. You opt for sleeping and sit up a bit before theres a knock at your door. You look at the door puzzled as if it just asked you a question. You get up from your soft mattress and drag your feet towards the door groaning as you open it keeping your eyes closed.

"Whoever you are go away, I need sleep more than anything." Your eyes remain closed not caring who it is.

"Aw, does that include me too my dear?" His gravely voice revives you as you open your eyes wide and stand up straight.

"C-Cypher! Hi. I didn't expect you here. Right now. In this moment." You say embarrassed as you look everywhere but his eyes. He chuckles then pushes you back into your room and closes the door behind him. A small click can be heard signifying the door is locked.

"Ah I see. Well then, let's cut to the chase then hm?"

[hopelessdazai]

kunikida nsfw headcanons would be lovely

of course anon! thank you for your request! I'll do my best to write well for him. <3

Kunikida nsfw headcanons

contents ; nsfw, praising, top!kunikida, reader is implied to be fembodied in one part, otherwise gn, breeding kink??

he prefers to take it slow and romantic. very rarely will kunikida start it off fast and pounding into you with nothing but lust in mind. he wants to make you feel appreciated!! to feel loved!!

hes a man of traditions. and especially on the first time. if you're lucky enough to lose your virginity to him, you better believe he takes it serious. completely giving, not expecting anything in return, and making sure it doesn't hurt too much through it.

he gets really into it. after the first while of being slow and steady, when he feels his high approaching he'll be a little rougher, holding your hips or waist tightly as his hips repeatedly slam against yours, chasing a high he wants so badly.

praise is his speciality. he doesn't want to make you feel like you're not doing amazing when you are. he'll always be there to make sure you know how good you're being all for him, and how good you feel.

whines, whimpers and moans, very loudly. he loves being close, he loves being inside of you, and god it just feels so good he can't shut his pretty mouth for more then a couple seconds. sometimes, it's softer grunts, but when he's close? listen to his vocals!

his favourite positions would be missionary, cowgirl and grasshopper. anything where he gets to be close to you is by far his favorite. he adores kissing your neck and being able to watch you react to how he fucks you so good.

his dick size is probably around 7 inches regular with 7.5 hard. enough to keep your tummy full and you feeling wonderful, even if it dribbles down your legs afterwords.

he prefers to use a condom, but he'll never object to filling you up. kunikida loves you, and he'd willingly start a family with you. thus being said, he loves the warmth of being able to freely spill himself into you. and he knows you love it too.

constantly checks up on you too. he wants to make sure you trust him completely with anything he's doing, and as long as you're not hurting too bad during it, he's a very happy boy!

Scenario ;

he smiles down at you, kissing your lips tenderly as he slowly slides himself inside to the base. you whine against his lips. it always stings, always.

"how are you feeling, hm?"

kunikida gently rubs a hand up and down your thigh, your leg, and trailing to your stomach, trying to let you relax. you'd never been fully prepared, always seemingly forgetting how great his cock is.

"i-im good.. you can move-."

you mumble, his hands interwining yours as he smiles warmly and gently starts to pump in and out of you. and god hes barely trying but it just feels so good.

"you look so pretty, my love. I'd save this image in my head for a thousand centuries. hah- just look at you..~"

I hope this was up to your standards!! - zai <3

[weemssapphic]

Hi :) I have a Larissa x reader request, feel no pressure to do this if u don’t want to and ofc u can mix it up and stuff <3

I’ve had this song from mean girls stuck in my head all week and I was wondering if you could perhaps write a young!larissa x young!reader fic based on this song? For example, Larissa wanted readers attention so she changed herself to be more like the popular girlies (perhaps morticia?) or asked reader to tutor her in a subject to spend more time w/ them only to find out that reader preferred her before she changed herself.

The song ends in angst but the fic could be however you like ofc. Anyways I just love the idea of Larissa being like cady from mean girls, tish being like Regina and reader being like Aaron.

If u do end up doing this- thank u sm 🥹 and if u don’t wanna, don’t worry :) I love ur work and I’m happy to read anything u write 💘

a/n: thank you again for the request! i really really hope this did it justice because damn, was i excited to write this! even though the song ends on an angsty note, this fic will have a happy ending <3

young!Larissa Weems x young!fem!reader {other pairings: references to (young!)Morticia Frump x reader, Morticia x Gomez}

words: ~6.1k (oops)

warnings/content: slight angst with a fluffy ending, Larissa is adorably shy, Morticia is possessive as shit, sapphic yearning

You Don’t Have to Pretend With Me

A light breeze passed through the quad - the last days of summer were slowly waning, giving way to cooler autumn weather. The colder air raised the hairs on your arm and you felt Morticia’s arm slink loosely around your waist, her warm palm coming to rest on your forearm and gently stroking the skin there. 

“Are you cold? Gomez, give her your jacket,” she snapped her fingers at the boy, who immediately began to shrug off his blazer at the command.

“Tish, I’m fine,” you soothed, leaning into her touch, your eyes darting subconsciously over to her roommate, Larissa. Her eyes bore holes into the stone surface of the table as she twisted her fingers in her lap. You shifted in Morticia’s grip and gently kicked at Larissa’s shins under the table, causing her to jump in surprise. A smirk graced your lips at the blush that crept up her cheeks - you’d noticed more often lately that the taller blonde was rather shy around you, and you couldn’t help but tease her a bit. You loved how easily you were able to fluster her, adored the pinkish hue that would overtake her face, a bit like your own personal sunset.

“Earth to Larissa. Are you with us?”

“Sorry, I must’ve zoned out for a moment,” she mumbled, smiling in such a dorky way that had you struggling to suppress your swooning.

“Morticia and I are going shopping on Sunday, you wanna come?” Larissa’s eyes lit up and she nodded, soft blonde curls bouncing on her shoulders. 

You felt the arm around your waist tighten possessively and bit your lip. Your relationship with Morticia was, in a word, complicated. You’d been dating on and off for around a year now, though most of that time was admittedly off. You’d most recently decided you were better off as good friends, but sometimes Morticia’s flirtatious and rather possessive side still came out to play.

But Larissa, she was different… where Morticia was a little overwhelming, always in your personal space, Larissa was reserved, held back. Where Morticia loved to show off, Larissa expressed her pride quietly. Larissa was always so soft and reassuring, showing you so much compassion and empathy whenever you’d confided in each other. She was intelligent and quick-witted and knew how to use it to her advantage. And god, she was breathtakingly beautiful…

The bell rang, signaling the end of your lunch break. Thanking the heavens that you had a free period, you sighed and leaned into Morticia’s casual embrace to shield yourself from another cold breeze, waving goodbye to Larissa and Gomez as they headed off to their next class together. 

—

As soon as he was sure he was out of earshot of you and Morticia, Gomez stopped dead in his tracks, nearly causing Larissa to stumble over his much shorter figure. 

“Gomez, what are you-”

“Larissa, you like her, yes?”

“Who are you-” Larissa’s eyes went wide, then her face flushed as she realized to whom Gomez was referring. Of course he’d caught on - the boy was no fool when it came to romance, and he’d caught her staring at you when she thought you weren’t looking more than once. 

“Yes,” she relented with a huff and an eye roll. “But it doesn’t matter, it’s not like I compare to Morticia anyway.” There was a hint of sadness in her voice, her blue eyes wavered a bit and she cast them to the floor. She was not going to cry, not in front of Gomez.

“Larissa, how could she not love you?!” Gomez lifted Larissa’s chin to hold her gaze and she rolled her eyes at the boy. 

“What do you want?” She narrowed her eyes at him, critically searching his face for any signs of mischief - he’d never been this kind to her, she suspected he mostly hung out with you guys to get closer to Morticia. 

Gomez let out a long sigh. “It’s obvious you have eyes for Y/N. And I’ve been trying to court Tish for a while now. Both can’t happen if they’re still all over each other. And I’d like to ask Tish to the Rave’n this year.”

“Okay… what does this have to do with me?”

“You have to distract Y/N.”

Larissa snorted. “So that you can make a move on Morticia. Right. And how do you suppose I do that, Gomez? Morticia’s all over her.”

“She’s very good at botany. She could tutor you. You get close, spend some time together, just the two of you. Give me time to woo Morticia.”

“But I don’t need a tutor, I’m the best in our class…”

“You don’t have to need one,” Gomez rolled his eyes. “Just pretend to need one.”

Larissa chewed her bottom lip as she considered his proposal. Just then, your melodic laughter floated from the quad and caught her attention. She looked over his shoulder just in time to see Morticia pull you onto her lap and tuck your hair behind your ear. Her stomach dropped, a familiar twinge of jealousy burning bright in her chest, licking at her ribcage like an untamed flame.

“Fine,” she snapped. “I’ll do it. This better be worth it.” 

— 

“Tish,” you cried out between giggles as the dark-haired girl pulled you onto her lap and brushed your hair off your face, tucking it behind your ear. 

“Yes, mon cher?” She raised her eyebrows and grinned down at you, causing you to blush deeply and look away. Your eyes met Larissa’s across the quad. She seemed upset somehow, and you offered her a sheepish smile. Even with a frown on those pouty red lips, you thought she was the most beautiful girl at Nevermore, and your stomach did a backflip imagining it was Larissa pulling you into her lap, not Morticia. Maybe if you could somehow get her alone, if she weren’t so damn shy around you…

~~~

Sunday rolled around and that meant it was finally time to go shopping with Morticia and Larissa. Once you were ready, you burst into the girl’s shared dorm room, a wide grin spread on your face. 

“Mooorning, ladies, are we ready?” You sing-songed, plopping down on Morticia’s bed and watching as she sauntered over to give you a hug. 

“Nearly,” she said. “If that one finishes her makeup soon.” She jerked her thumb at Larissa who sat at her vanity in the corner, applying her lipstick. Larissa paused mid-stroke, looking mildly annoyed, and furrowed her brows. 

“Take your time,” you cooed from across the room, before an argument could ensue. “You’ll look gorgeous.” 

Larissa’s cheeks reddened, she quickly averted her gaze and focused on her reflection in the mirror, a slight tremor overcoming her hands. Morticia sighed dramatically and sat down next to you on the bed, handing you her brush in a silent command to brush her hair, which you happily took over for her, while keeping an eye on the blonde from the corner of your eye. 

Ten minutes later you were out the door, following the roommates down the winding staircase of Ophelia Hall, trying to keep yourself from staring at Larissa. She looked stunning today, her long, silvery blonde hair pulled away from her face, curled into an elegant ponytail. Whenever she pulled back her hair, it emphasized her smooth, porcelain cheekbones and arched brows, drawing attention to the sapphire pools of her eyes… And then there was the matter of her style, so different from Morticia’s and even your own. A high-cut white turtleneck, with a long gold skirt and a matching coat. Oh shit, now you were staring. You coughed and covered your face to hide your blush and followed your friends outside.

The taxi ride to Burlington was a bit tense, as the cab driver was suspicious of outcasts, and Morticia’s goth aesthetic coupled with Larissa’s impressive height never failed to make them stick out. The three of you breathed a collective sigh of relief as you were all but dumped outside the mall entrance.

Morticia set the pace for the day, as she usually did, dragging the two of you in and out of various shops until she found something worth trying on, which was how you found yourself sitting on a chair in a dressing room, waiting for Morticia to try on outfit after outfit. For each dress, she gave you quite the show, twirling around and showing off, tossing you a wink and blowing kisses in your direction. You humored her, giving her the “oohs” and “ahhs” she so desperately desired, telling her which dresses were “simply made for you!”

Little did you know, Larissa was watching from the sidelines, absolutely seething. Seeing how you responded to Morticia, to the dark, provocative things Morticia tried on… so completely the opposite of the conservative, drab things she herself normally wore. If she was going to get your attention, she was going to have to step up her game.

“Larissa, did you find anything?” You asked her softly, noticing that the blonde was lost in her own thoughts. 

“I did, in fact,” she answered rather smugly, brushing past you towards a changing room and all but slamming the door behind her.

Minutes later, the door to Larissa’s changing room opened. She emerged and your breath caught in your throat. 

“Rissa?” She looked… different, that was for sure. The sleeveless black gown was a stark contrast to her alabaster skin, you racked your brain but you weren’t sure you’d ever seen her wear all black before. It clung to her curves like a second skin, leaving little to the imagination, bringing a flush to your cheeks. Her breasts all but spilled out the top - you were sure you’d heard her complain before about Morticia wearing similar low-cut pieces.

“Do you like it?” She was breathless and looked very eager, a shy smile plastered on her face, cheeks dusted pink, and you thought it was the cutest smile you’d ever seen - you couldn’t possibly tell her you thought it was a bit… out of place on her. Maybe she wanted to branch out a bit? And you had to admit you didn’t really mind the extra bit of skin showing. You bit your lip and nodded, relishing in the grin that spread across her face at your approval.

“God, I’m exhausted after all that shopping,” you giggled a short while later, as the three of you stood in line at the food court. “I can’t wait to sit down and eat.”

“Rest your head on my shoulder, mon cher, it’s the perfect height,” Morticia cooed, drawing you into her and allowing you to rest against her. You hummed absentmindedly and Larissa’s shoulders stiffened from where she towered over the two of you. You eyed her with interest, wondering why she was suddenly so tense, but you didn’t have time to linger on the thought as Morticia pushed you up to the counter to order lunch for the three of you.

~~~

You were always the first to arrive to botany class, and as such you saved your friends' seats around you. Soon after, Morticia arrived, Gomez trailing behind her like a lost puppy. She slid into the empty chair next to you and Gomez took a seat at the table behind you. 

“Where’s Larissa?” You craned your neck towards the door, wondering if you’d somehow missed her. 

Morticia let out a groan and pinched the bridge of her nose. “She’s having some sort of identity crisis. She’s coming.” She sounded annoyed, and just as you were about to ask her what exactly she meant by “identity crisis”, Larissa walked into the classroom.

It quickly became apparent what Morticia had meant. The girl had traded her signature cherry-red lipstick for something darker, a plum color similar to what Morticia generally opted for, and even her eye makeup was considerably darker than usual. She also seemed… shorter somehow? You couldn’t quite place it, but she didn’t seem to tower over everyone quite as much as she usually did. She took her place behind you, next to Gomez, and you turned around, worry marring your features. 

“Larissa, are you okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be okay?” Her eyes widened imperceptibly, brows knitting together as she offered you an unnerving grin.

“It’s just… yeah. Nevermind. You look good,” you offered weakly, smiling and turning back around as your botany teacher, Ms. Morrison, was starting the lesson.

“Miss Weems, we’re looking at Triphyophyllum peltatum today. Could you be so kind as to tell the class which family this plant belongs to?”

“Umm… is it Droseraceae?”

Ms. Morrison’s brow creased. “Unfortunately, Miss Weems, that is incorrect. I expected better from you.”

You stole a glance at Larissa, who gazed sheepishly down at her desk. It went like this a few more times, Larissa answering questions incorrectly and Ms. Morrison becoming increasingly more annoyed. 

When the bell rang, you felt a hand on your shoulder. Looking up, it belonged to Larissa. She was definitely closer to your height now. Weird. You were brought out of your daze at her next words.

“You’re good at botany, right?” She fiddled nervously with the hem of her blazer.

“I mean, I think I’m pretty decent, yeah.”

“Well… clearly I’m pretty shit at it. There’s no way I’m passing the midterm like this. Do you think you could tutor me this semester?”

You were taken aback by the request - you’d always thought Larissa was intelligent, way smarter than you were, she was top of nearly every class. You’d never dreamed of having to tutor her in anything. But judging by today’s lesson she really was struggling, and you would never pass up the opportunity to finally get to spend some one on one time with her - away from Morticia’s prying eyes, no less.

“Of course, Larissa. I would love to. How about you come to my room after dinner, my roommate won’t be there and it’ll be quiet,” you grinned at the flush this brought to Larissa’s face. She agreed and you parted ways, spending the rest of your day with your head in the clouds, daydreaming about your study date with Larissa.

~~~

After dinner you all but ran up to your dorm room. This would be the first time you’d spent time alone with Larissa and even though you knew it was only a study date, you wanted to impress her anyway. You freshened up your makeup and decided to throw on your favorite forest green cardigan, just as you heard a knock on your door.

With a deep breath, you opened the door. Larissa stood before you, her makeup still, well, extremely overdone. She wore a short skirt paired with a black, lacy blouse that had nearly all the buttons undone, drawing attention to her cleavage and the scarlet bra she wore underneath. You gulped and drew your attention back to her face, stepping back a bit to allow Larissa to step into your room and (hopefully) giving you time to cool the blush on your cheeks.

“Make yourself comfortable. Do you want something to drink? Tabitha convinced Ms. Morrison to let us get a mini fridge in here and we just stocked it up last weekend. Or I could make you tea or something?”

“Tea would be lovely,” Larissa smiled shyly, sitting gingerly at the edge of your bed and playing with the hem of her skirt. 

You plugged in your electric kettle and waited for the water to boil, a comfortable silence falling over the dorm room as you prepared two mugs. The tea bags were on a shelf next to your desk, just out of your reach, and you grunted as you pushed yourself onto your toes, stretching out to grasp for the box.

“Rissa,” you complained loudly, turning towards her and giving her your best pitiful pout. “I’m too short. Can you reach the tea bags for me?”

Larissa made to stand up, then hesitated a moment, hovering over the edge of the bed. “Umm… I don’t know. I… yeah I’ll see…” she stepped over to the shelf, reaching towards the box but her arm wasn’t quite long enough. “Sorry… I can just climb on the desk though, it’s fine.” She seemed frustrated with herself as she clambered up in order to reach the shelf and pull down the box of tea bags for you.

You took the box from her, eyeing her as she slipped back down and stood there awkwardly as if waiting to be dismissed. 

“Did you shapeshift?” you asked quietly, watching Larissa out of the corner of your eye as you poured the boiling water into the mugs. Larissa nodded, folding her arms across her chest and seemingly caving in on herself, eyes trained on the water kettle in your hand.

You nodded back, not wanting to make her more uncomfortable, and handed her one of the mugs, a white mug with a rainbow unicorn. 

“Soooo… Larissa Weems is bad at botany?” you teased, pinching her side and moving to sit on your bed, curling your legs under you and patting the empty spot at your side.

Larissa looked like she was about to argue, then thought better of it and swallowed thickly, coming to sit beside you. 

“Y-yes, well I took a look at the homework that’s due next week and I don’t understand any of it, I’m afraid.”

“Then let’s start there,” you gave her a reassuring smile and grabbed your textbook from where you’d tossed it at the foot of the bed earlier, scooting closer to her until your thighs pressed together and you could feel her warm breath on your cheek. 

As the evening wore on, you’d gotten a fair bit of studying done, but the botany textbook was soon discarded on the floor of your dorm room. The two of you were laying on your backs, giggling about something that had happened in class the other day, when you decided you were going to be brave.

You reached out until you felt Larissa’s hand, warm against your own. You threaded your fingers between hers, lifting her hand up and tracing the faint lines on her palm with the pad of your thumb. You could hear her breath hitch next to you, which only spurred you on. 

“Larissa?” You turned your head to face her, waiting until your gazes locked, and for a moment the air around you stilled, your stomach turning pleasantly.

“Yeah?” There was a beat of silence, the only sound was the rustling of some leaves outside the window. Larissa’s eyes were wide, her lips parted slightly, warm breath coming out in ragged puffs.

The door to your room slammed open as your roommate stepped over the threshold and tossed her bag unceremoniously at the foot of her bed. You groaned, slamming your eyes shut and giving Larissa’s hand an apologetic squeeze. 

“Y/N, what are you - oh, shit, I’m sorry!” Tabitha’s eyes widened as her gaze fell to your hand, fingers still intertwined with Larissa’s. “I thought you’d be done by now, it’s nearly 2 am.”

“It’s fine,” you pushed yourself up on your elbows and gave Tabitha a meek smile. “I didn’t realize it was that late.”

Tabitha offered you a salacious smirk as she crossed over to bed and plopped down, crossing her legs. “So what have you two lovebirds been up to?”

“Tabitha!” You tossed your pillow at her head and she let out a hearty chuckle, catching it and grinning at you, but saying no more.

Larissa was frozen in place next to you, cheeks rosy, twirling a lock of hair between her fingers.

“Can I walk you back to your room?” You slid to the edge of your bed and offered her your hand, praying you weren’t overstepping, grateful when she beamed up at you and took said hand.

Throwing a glare back at Tabitha (who had the decency to at least pretend to look ashamed), you guided Larissa up the two flights of stairs to her dorm room, apologizing profusely for your roommates utter lack of manners. 

“It’s fine,” Larissa giggled, her hand warm and so very soft in your own. “She seems funny, and like she cares about you.”

“Yeah, she’s alright I guess,” you rolled your eyes playfully, having arrived at the door to Larissa’s room. “So, umm… I was thinking maybe we could meet at the Weathervane after class on Thursday? You know, to study… or whatever.”

“Or whatever?” Larissa’s smile unnerved you and your gaze dropped to the ground, you suddenly felt a bit lame for even suggesting it. Would she even want to go with you? Didn’t she have better things to do? “I can’t wait.”

You looked up, meeting sapphire eyes that danced with excitement. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

~~~

You stood in line at the Weathervane, humming quietly to yourself as you waited for the barista to take the order of the businessman in front of you. A pair of gloved hands came to rest over your eyes, causing you to yelp and jump out of your skin. 

“Guess who?” The smooth, English accent of the low voice in your ear gave her away in an instant.

“Riss,” you grinned, pulling at her wrists. “Don’t scare me like that!”

“Sorry, it was too tempting!” Larissa pulled you into a one-armed hug, which you gladly reciprocated, enjoying the closeness to the object of your affections.

“What can I get for you?” The barista - Kevin, if his name tag was anything to go by - eyed the two of you warily. It was no secret the disdain that the normies held for outcasts, and even though you were used to it in your daily interactions here in Jericho, it still stung a bit.

“I’ll have a cappuccino. Larissa?”

“Could I get a hot chocolate please?”

Kevin nodded, ringing up your order. “That’ll be $6.00 even.”

“Allow me,” you swatted away Larissa’s hands as she reached for her purse and proceeded to pay for the order, then ushered her towards a booth at the back of the café. 

“Thanks for paying, you didn’t have to,” Larissa’s voice was quiet, as if she hoped you wouldn’t hear her, and you reached out to hold her hand across the table. “I wanted to,” your thumb stroked the back of her hand and she ducked her head, looking up at you through mascara-coated eyelashes. Your heart began to thump erratically in your chest and you considered closing the distance between the two of you as a shadow appeared next to the table. Kevin cleared his throat, awkwardly placing your mugs down in front of you and shuffling away.

You sat back with a huff, groaning internally at another moment lost to some external intrusion. Even when Morticia wasn’t there, the world seemed hell-bent on ruining every intimate moment you had with Larissa.

The girl in question took a sip of her hot chocolate, setting the mug down between the two of you and pushing it across the table.

“You have to try it, it’s the best I’ve ever had!”

Your gaze flicked down to the mug, eyes drawn to the lipstick mark at the rim. It was the exact shade of plum that Morticia always wore, you noted. You picked up the mug, gingerly, as if it would shatter in your hands. For a brief moment, you wondered if you should drink from that exact spot. Be daring, you told yourself. Your pulse skyrocketed at the thought. How would Larissa react? You locked eyes with the blonde, who watched you eagerly.

You chickened out, placing your lips on the opposite side of the rim and taking a sip.

“Mm, yeah, it’s really good!” Larissa grinned smugly, clearly proud that she’d been right to make a good recommendation.

You pulled out your botany textbook, deciding you might as well do what you’d come here for and at least help the struggling girl a little bit. She was a quick learner, which was good, considering you were finding it harder and harder to focus with her leaning across the table - her breath ghosting over your face, her perfume clouding your senses, her cleavage on full display. 

Your mugs were long empty and the evening crowd was slowly clearing out of the café. The sky outside the window was casting hues of orange and pink on the table, on Larissa’s porcelain skin and silver hair. She looked ethereal in this light, her eyes glistening, leaving you entranced. Kevin was starting to sweep the floors, his gaze flitting in your direction every so often - probably a sign you should be getting up to leave soon.

“I think he wants us to leave,” you sucked your bottom lip between your teeth and eyed Kevin as he moved to clean the espresso machine, his eyes wandering again over to your booth. You were the only two customers left.

“I don’t want today to be over,” Larissa admitted with a sigh, pulling your attention back to the striking blonde.

“I don’t either…” It was now or never. “Larissa… do you think maybe you’d want to go on a date with me?” You held your breath as you waited for a reply.

“Like… a real date?” Larissa’s eyes shone with wonder, her tone was hushed, as if she was afraid you’d take it back.

“Yeah, no studying or anything like that. A real date.”

Larissa beamed. “I would love to.”

You let out a shaky breath. “Perfect. Maybe we should get out of here now though, before Kevin over there bans us from the Weathervane permanently or something. I would hate for you to have to miss out on your hot chocolate.” 

Your teasing earned you a hearty laugh and Larissa took your hand as the two of you darted from the café.

~~~

Larissa took your breath away from where she stood at the center of the quad. Her hair hung long and pin-straight down her back, her plump lips were painted a shade of deep purple, her sapphire eyes dark and sultry. Today she’d opted to wear the black gown she’d tried on when you’d gone shopping with Morticia, and you needed a moment to tamp down your blush before making your presence known to her.

“Hi,” she replied breathlessly.

“You ready?” She nodded and you led her out of the school and down the winding path to the lake. Butterflies erupted in your belly as the back of your hand brushed against Larissa’s, and your heart constricted in the most pleasant way as Larissa took your hand in her own.

You walked in companionable silence until you reached the docks. Once there, you tossed down your bag and sat at the edge of the dock, pulling at Larissa’s hand and urging her to sit next to you. 

“Thanks again for tutoring me,” Larissa said softly. 

“Of course,” you scooted closer to her, hearing her breath hitch as your thighs met. “I get to spend more time with you this way. And I don’t know if you’ve noticed but I think you’re really beautiful.”

Larissa’s gaze met yours, hope swirling in those sapphire pools. “You do?” Her voice was barely above a whisper. 

“I do,” you confirmed, bravely tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, feeling her shiver beneath your touch.

“Sorry, it’s a bit chilly,” Larissa giggled, and you took the opportunity to pull her into you, rubbing your palms gently over her bare arms.

“I mean, yeah, you’re barely wearing anything,” you retorted, burying your face in her neck, dangerously close to her cleavage, breathing in her intoxicating scent. It completely overwhelmed you, made you dizzy with desire, and you had to place a hand on Larissa’s thigh to steady yourself.

“I mean, apparently it worked,” she leaned back slightly to wink at you, causing your heart to flutter. “Like pretending I needed a tutor.”

“Wait… what? Pretending?” What did she mean pretending?

“Yeah…” Larissa twisted her fingers in her lap. “I-I pretended to be bad at botany to get you to talk to me.”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. You’d never thought Larissa would lie to you like that. Morticia had manipulated you during your relationship, you knew that much, you were even used to it, but Larissa? You thought she was different. 

“Why didn’t you just talk to me?”

“Because of Morticia. Because you were her property.”

“Her property?” That had you seething. You were no one’s property.

“No, shut up, not property-” Larissa’s eyes were wide with panic now, she tried to lay a gentle hand on your arm but you pulled away as if you’d been burned, sitting back on your heels. 

“No, don’t tell me to shut up! You are like a clone of Morticia!”

Larissa’s dark lips fell into a pout, her chin began to wobble. “No, wait - I mean, I just thought you liked that… you like her!”

“I liked you more. The old you. Not whatever this is.” You waved a dismissive hand over Larissa’s form, causing her to shrink back and cross her arms over her chest. You almost felt bad at how insecure she looked, but you were too angry to care.

“Is that why you’re wearing all this? Is that what the makeup is? Because you think I want you to look like Morticia?” you spat out. You’d spent the last year with Morticia, you didn’t want to spend another year with her clone. You’d really liked Larissa the way she was.

Larissa flinched at your tone, at the pure venom dripping from every word. “Morticia looks really good,” she shrugged, eyes downcast, twisting her hair between her fingers as her eyes began to water.

“I don’t care what Morticia looks like. That’s just her style. I liked your style. I liked how you looked.” You stood up, slinging your bag over your shoulder and turning on your heel, before chancing a final glance at the blonde.

“And you know what?” Larissa looked up, watery eyes meeting yours, pale tear tracks streaking her cheeks. “You didn’t need to shapeshift to impress me.” Larissa bit her lip as you stormed off back towards your dorm, not stopping until you were facedown in your bed. You were eternally grateful that Tabitha had chosen that evening to spend the night with her boyfriend (“just in case you and Larissa need some alone time”, she’d said with a wink, you recalled bitterly).

The tears flowed freely then and you allowed yourself to cry into your pillow. You couldn’t believe Larissa had betrayed you like that, that you’d fallen for something so stupid. Of course she was good at botany. She was good at everything - she didn’t need you. And did she really think you were so vain, so shallow, that you only wanted Morticia, that you only wanted Morticia for her aesthetic and her body?

That night, you cried yourself to sleep, wondering how you’d ever face Larissa again. Wondering if she really thought so little of you. Wondering if the Larissa you’d fallen for was gone for good. If she’d want you anymore. If you even wanted her anymore. Your stomach clenched and and your heart ached as sobs racked your body, only stopping when the first rays of morning sunlight began to filter in through your curtains and exhaustion finally overtook your body and threw you into a fitful slumber.

~~~

You’d successfully managed to avoid Larissa for a few days after that, but eventually you had to go to botany class. You were nearly late, and annoyed to find that Morticia hadn’t saved you a seat. Your usual seat was occupied by Gomez, who was doting on your ex-girlfriend - and she was soaking up every bit of attention she was getting. Good for her, she deserves it, you thought, at least she’ll leave me alone for a few days.

The bad news was that this meant you were stuck next to Larissa. She gave you a meek smile as you slid into the seat next to her, which you returned half-heartedly. You were happy to see that at least her face was devoid of makeup, save for some mascara and her signature red lipstick, and that her hair was curled again and pulled back into some fancy updo. 

“Can anyone tell me which plant we’re dealing with here today?” Ms. Morrison asked.

Larissa raised her hand and Ms. Morrison gave her a curt nod.

“Atropa belladonna - deadly nightshade.”

“Hm. Thank you, Miss Weems. Good to have you back.” 

Larissa continued to impress, even correcting your answer at one point as you worked on a group assignment, to which you only responded with a raised eyebrow. Larissa bowed her head and lowered her gaze to her own paper, chewing at her lip to keep from saying anything else.

The rest of the week was rather lonely. Morticia was distracted, having apparently been thoroughly romanced by Gomez. They seemed to spend every free period making out in some corner of the quad, Morticia straddling Gomez’s lap and giving the students of Nevermore Academy quite the show. 

More than anything you wanted to talk to Larissa, but you didn’t know how. It was like every time you were in the same room, your mouth went dry. You were still wary after having been lied to - sure it had come from a good place, she’d wanted to impress you. But by pretending to be a ditzy airhead version of Morticia? Did she really think you were that stupid?

Divine intervention took over and the decision to talk to Larissa was taken off your hands when you were sitting in the quad, reading, knees tucked under your chin, as a shadow appeared behind you.

“Hey.” Your heart clenched as you realized how much you’d missed that soft voice.

“Larissa,” you looked up at the taller girl - she was definitely back to her normal height, as she now towered over you again.

“May I sit?” She crossed her arms defensively over her chest as she waited for a response.

“Of course,” you scooted over to give her more space. She left a few inches between the two of you, and seemed rather stiff.

“Those two won’t leave each other alone, I can barely go back to my room. They’re just so damn loud all the time.” There was a hint of annoyance in Larissa’s tone and you followed her gaze towards Morticia and Gomez, who were enjoying each other’s company on the other side of the quad.

You snorted, closing your book and watching the pair with amusement. “You could always come to my room,” you offered, somewhat unsure about your proposal but knowing that, despite everything, you’d love to spend more time with her.

You heard a sharp intake of breath and turned to watch Larissa’s face carefully - she seemed to be grappling with something.

“I wanted to apologize for the way I acted,” Larissa began timidly, “I made an assumption and it appears I was wrong. I thought you would like me more if I changed myself. I didn’t think I was interesting enough to compete with Morticia, because I’ve always been second best to her. I didn’t think this would be any different.”

“Well I don’t think you’re second best at all… not to me anyway,” you took Larissa’s hand in yours and laced your fingers together. “I fell for you long before you decided to become some sort of weird Morticia clone.” It had slipped out before you knew what you were saying, and a heat rose in your cheeks, all the way to the tips of your ears.

“You fell for me, huh?” Larissa’s cheeks looked just as pink as yours felt.

“Maybe,” you whispered, giving her hand a gentle squeeze.

“Then maybe you wouldn’t mind going to the Rave’n with me?” Larissa met your gaze, cocking her head to the side in question.

“Yes! I mean no, no I wouldn’t mind!” You blurted out, internally scolding yourself for seeming so eager. Larissa let out the breath she was holding.

“Be sure to ditch that ghastly makeup though. It may suit Morticia but I much prefer your lipstick.” You winked and Larissa’s lips twitched up into a hesitant smile.

Larissa leaned in, placing a chaste kiss at the corner of your mouth, leaving behind a light stain of red lipstick and causing your heart to flutter pleasantly.

Suddenly, long arms enveloped you and dragged you onto her lap, drawing a loud squeak from your chest.

“Since when has the Larissa Weems gotten so bold?” you teased after regaining your composure. 

Larissa sunk her teeth into her plush lower lip, clearly weighing her next words carefully. “Since I saw Morticia do that and decided I wanted to know what it was like.”

“And?” You were breathless, you were both breathless. 

“I think I could get used to it.”

-

thank you to @afeatherformills for the beta, as well as my gf for swooping in with some last minute ideas to save my ass lmao.

tags for those who may be interested: @orchidsshine @sapphicsbeloved @scumppa @zephyr-is-tired

[moira-mains-go-to-hell]

hello !! it’s lovely seeing a new writer in the OW community,, lots of new life!!

i would love to formally request a Cassidy x GN!Reader, with the prompt: “Put that down, let me hold your hands damn it!”

i was thinking the reader could be a medic of some sorts, who gets lost in their work often, and Cassidy is trying to confess to them.

i cannot wait to see what you come up with, and all of the other stories that you’ll write!! much love <3

I love this damn ask so much more than you realize Cassidy is my baby boy.

Warnings: none

Take a Breather

He was your partner. He carried out the missions, you kept him alive. Sure there where plenty of others you worked with, but you two just meshed in the field.

However at base, you were hardly ever within a thirty yard radius of each other. Cassidy had training to do and meetings to be in, and you had work to do in the medical wing, you being in charge of expense reports and the incident report keeper. Sure a cup of coffee could be shared between you two on a Saturday afternoon, but that came once every blue moon.

On the other hand, Cole couldn’t shake his dislike of the situation. He liked your presence, your witty comments, and your genuine care with him, never as gruff and blunt with him like everyone else. You were softer with him, and he liked to match the tone. He would never be this polite with anyone but Ana Amari herself, and he hasn’t seen her in ages.

Somehow though, today he had made his way to your office, two cups of coffee in hand and a few words on his chest he needed to get off.

“Knock knock,” he backed through the door of your office, “I’d use my hands but I figured you’d want this in a mug and not on the floor.”

“Cole!” You whipped around from the book case you where rummaging through, causing the cowboy to laugh, “hey there.”

“You can relax hun, ain’t nothing wrong.”

You met him at the door and grabbed a mug from him, setting it on the corner of your desk while you went back to your bookshelf, “thank you, really, I know you don’t have much time in your day to swing by.”

“You’d be surprised, my day has been slower than molasses.”

“Really? I wish I could say the same Cowboy,” you picked out a binder and began flipping through the contents.

“You know, I was thinking, maybe we could…” he trailed off, noticing your attention was divided. He cleared his throat a little and waited for you to look back up.

“I’m sorry where are you saying something?”

“Oh it’s nothing, I was just thinking maybe we could go for a walk? Or a breath of fresh air?” He nodded towards the door, “it’s a beautiful day.”

“I’d love to, but I just have a lot of reports to go through in the next few weeks and-“

“Why don’t you put that down and hold my hands damn it.” You stopped in your tracks, turning around to face the cowboy.

He tried to feign confidence, a blush tinting his cheeks redder than a fire truck. He stood awkwardly and tried to remain firm, but you could see his struggle.

“Oh?” Your amusement would win the battle with your virtue, wanting to see where this would go.

He took off his glove, shoving it in his back pocket, and he wiped his hand on his pants, ‘Is he nervous?’ The smile you held grew as he went on, making his little stand.

“Yes, and I think you overwork yourself, so let’s go now, and I’ll help you pick up later?” He extended his hand to you, a pleading look behind his eyes.

“Why not,” you shrug, “I haven’t taken my break yet today anyway,, it would be good to stretch my legs and take a breather” you place your hand in his, interlocking your fingers together as he leads you down the hallway.

He takes you around the corner and out the door, the medical wing courtyard. ‘He was right, it is beautiful,’ you let him lead you over to a bench where you both sat, him taking your other hand into his as well.

“I would first like to say, I am sorry for my outburst,” his hands where larger than yours, holding yours as if they where fragile, “but secondly, I would like to just have some time to talk to you one on one, ya’know? I knew you wouldn’t go for just anything, but I didn’t quite think through my execution.”

You nodded, giving his fingers a light squeeze, “I’m sorry I got caught up in my work. There has just been a lot to do with the rest of the med team out and being on my own. I am, however, glad you pulled me away.”

You could see him relax a bit, a small sigh of relief pushing past his lips, “Good, because I’d hate to tell you I like you with you mad at me.”

“Well that would be hard ye-“ you stopped yourself, widening your eyes at him. “Excuse me?”

“I like you, a lot. It’s not just working with you, even though it’s a leading factor to this,” his thumbs rubbed the back of your hands, “I just think you are a wonderful person, and I, uh, would like to test the waters of that feeling.”

His eyes where shielded by his hat, you had never seen him this nervous, much less not even look you in the eyes.

“Cole, look at me,” you took his hat off and swept his hair out of his eyes, “I like you too, and I’d love to help you test those waters.”

His eyes where a bit watery and his smile was wide, ‘was he this afraid of me telling him no? Why would he ever think like that?’

The hug he locked you in was bone crushing, which you reciprocated as best you could, “thank you,” he spoke into your shoulder, “I want to do my best with this.”

“Well you’ve gotten this far Cowboy, I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

[stvharrngton]

Hi, I love your writing? Can I request 1 and 89 from list 2? Maybe a hurt/comfort where Steve comforts the reader? You are awesome! Congrats! <3

hi, thank you so much!! and thank you for requesting, i’m sorry this took me a lifetime to get to, i hope you enjoy! <3

pairing: steve harrington x gn!reader (no pronouns used)

word count: 0.9k

warnings: hurt/comfort, mentions of injuries and blood, can be read as best friends to lovers or an established relationship

prompt: touching foreheads + kissing tears from the others face

taglist: @sweetiestevie @dukesmebby @sw34terw34ther @sweetbabygirlsworld

1k celebration

Pushing your way towards the movie theatre bathroom, yours and Steve’s heavy limbs nearly tangling together as you tripped over each other’s feet. You burst through the door, heads hanging over the toilet rim as you puked up your entire stomach's contents.

You groaned into the bowl as your head rested on your crossed arms. Stomach churning and brain rattling against your skull as you both slowly came down from your highs.

Both you and Steve were in pretty bad shape. His eye black, nose and mouth bloody. His ribs surely bruised if not broken. You weren’t much better off, a large gash to your cheek as well as cuts to your arms and legs. You cursed your job for making shorts a compulsory part of your uniform. The metallic taste of blood lingered in your mouth as the blood dripped down your nose.

Steve’s body slumped down the side of the toilet, legs stretched out as he ran his fingers through his greasy hair. Eyes strained, blinking at the flickering bathroom light, the dull ache of his ribs ever present.

He noticed you’d stopped throwing up, your breathing heavy but steady, “Hey,” he called out from the other side of the stall, voice raspy, “you okay in there?”

No. You weren’t okay. Far from it, actually. Your cuts and bruises stung, the crack in your nose ached. Your bones tired, your head felt like it was two sizes too small for your brain. Tears began to well in the corner of your eyes as the events prior flashed through your mind again.

You sniffled as subtly as you could, palms rubbing at your wet cheeks. “‘M fine,” you mumbled, a choked sob racking your voice. You cursed yourself as your breath shook. You prayed Steve didn’t hear.

The boy frowned from the other stall, brows furrowing together as he stared at the ugly red divider. Picking at the dirt underneath his fingernails, Steve sighed.

“You don’t—“ he stopped himself short, feet poking underneath the stall as he pulled himself through to your stall, “you don’t sound fine.”

Eyes glazed over, you glared at him. A grunt, a noise of disapproval left your lips as he let his back lean against the stall.

“How can I be fine, Steve?” You asked, voice sharp, a little shaky. You didn’t mean to snap but you were tired and bloody, bruises thudding against your skin.

“I—“

“We were trapped in a super secret Russian base below the stupid mall, Steve, and then tortured!” You cried, “Tortured, Steve. How can you— I mean, I can’t—“ you stuttered and stammered, heart thumping against your chest as your eyes grew wide, panic setting in.

Steve never expected you to be fine. Hell, Steve wasn’t fine. But he had to be. For you. You both needed to get through this, one way or another. His resolve softened as he crawled his way over to you, hand resting on your shoulder.

“Hey,” he hushed you softly, “hey, it’s alright, it’s okay.” Large palms cupped your cheeks, thumbs wiping at the tears, “just take a deep breath, yeah? You’re okay, I’m here.”

You nodded as a sob emanated from your throat, mimicking Steve’s actions and taking a deep breath as his hands never left your face. He nodded along with you encouragingly, his concern simmering as your breathing slowed, your cries softening.

“Sorry,” you whimpered, “I jus’, can’t get the picture of you on the floor out of my head, and fuck, everything hurts so bad.” You winced as you said it, eyes squeezed together tight.

“C’mere,” Steve breathed, pulling you in by your shoulders, your head resting on his firm chest, “I’m okay, we’re both alive, yeah?” he spoke against your scalp, lips pressed against your hairline.

The tears started again, rolling down your flushed and scarred cheeks, dripping down onto Steve’s stained Scoops uniform. He rubbed at your shoulder soothingly, hushing your whimpers as his head rolled back against the wall. Eyes straining at the white lights of the bathroom.

“Sweetheart,” he cooed, his heart already shattered into pieces at your hurt form, “look at me,” he asked, finger hooking underneath your chin to bring your gaze to his.

Your eyes were glassy and red rimmed, blood stained your nostrils and the cut on your cheek looking nastier by the minute. You sniffled as Steve leant forward, resting his forehead against your own. His eyes bore into your own, warm honey littered with gold specks, his gaze full of fond and reassurance.

“I’ve got you, you’re safe, we’re safe,” you both knew you weren’t, not quite on the home stretch yet, but Steve’s voice was so soft, almost pulling you in like a lullaby, that it made you feel safe, “and when we get out of here, I’m gonna take you on the best date you’ve ever been on.”

Steve pressed kisses to each of your cheeks now, careful to avoid the slash on your face, lips pecking away your salty tears. He followed with a kiss to your nose before his forehead returned to it’s place against yours, “How does that sound, huh?”

You sniffled with a light giggle, the movement reminding you of the everpresent ache in your bones, but nodded nonetheless. Your heart fluttering as Steve finally pressed his lips to yours, the kiss soft and sweet. His plush lips soft against your own, despite the cuts that littered the pink skin.

“That sounds nice.” You mumbled against his lips.

[imrllytootiredforthis]

ahhh i loved your skz as subs headcanon!! if you can, could you write a fic/drabble based off of innie’s? (just read hyune’s and it was *chef’s kiss*) we need more sub innie content out there 🙏🏼 thank you!!

Locked With Love

Pairing: innie x reader

Summary: Poor Innie is so desperate and needy for you. He isn’t supposed to touch for two days still...but you’ll help him out, won’t you?

Warnings: sub innie, fem reader, dom reader, chastity cage, mommy kink, slight dacryphilia, riding, implied innocence kink, begging, praise kink, finger-sucking, think that’s it but there may be more

Word Count: 2k

A/N: Hope this is good! Any and all feedback is welcomed and my requests are open (read rules here first) Hope you enjoy<3

You couldn’t help but smirk through the rage as you stood, just watching. For now.

Jesus christ, why’d he have to be so pretty? 

The way his pretty lips shaped when he moaned, how his slim waist moved, abs tensing and back arched up in pleasure. His hair was a mess, tousled and obviously left unbrushed for the entire day.

How was it humanly possible for someone to be this pretty? You didn’t know, didn’t even think that there was an answer to that question, because he just was.

Yang Jeongin was gorgeous and it drove you fucking crazy.

“Please...ha...” He whimpered, looking up at you with those big glassy eyes that made you want to give him anything and everything that this world and beyond had to offer.

“I don’t know Innie...have you been good, baby boy?”

He shuddered at the name. Breaths were now escaping those oh so pretty lips shakily, panting with his tongue hung out like a dog as he rutted into a pillow like one. 

“Yes! Yes mom-my. I was so good, so good jus’ for you mommy!” Somehow he gets it out between heavy pants, the struggle of which he managed to driving you insane, rubbing your thighs together to keep the arousal at bay.

He’s still wearing his shirt and shorts, the impatient baby he is, he didn’t bother taking them fully off just tugging his shorts and boxers down to slip his dick out and start humping your pillow.

He couldn’t even get off with the cage locked around his dick, the only chance of his relief was the key around your neck. But he knew that he wasn’t supposed to get it off for another two days per his punishment so he resorted to his last idea to try and gain your mercy.

His plan was to get off on the pillow until you walked in and either got so angry that you’d take it off just to punish him or that you’d get so horny that you’d take it off just to fuck him.

Of course, there was many ways that his plan could go wrong. Such as you deciding to extend his original punishment for longer.

But he hadn’t exactly though that far ahead yet.

To his credit it went exactly to plan. Poor Innie got so stimulated that his moans were loud enough to hear through the walls.

Dirty little slut.

Of course you heard and came to see what the noise was.

“How long has it been baby?” You asked, walking closer and innocently scratching your nails over the exposed part of his thighs, just barely there-enough for him to feel though.

Pushing his body toward your touch, he scrambled for a reply in his lust-induced haze. “O-one we-ha” 

“Yes,” you prompted, lips moving against his throat, hand moving to ghost over his inner thigh, leaving him shuddering from sensitivity. Simultaneously trying to pull away and lean closer into your touch.

“One week!” He gasped out, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip.

You nodded with a fake pout grasping at his chin to pull him up to meet your eyes head on, lips inches apart until they were brushing against his and he was whimpering ‘kiss me, kiss me, mummy please.”

Obliging to his request, you pressed your lips to his. Gently at first, soft and sweet. Then, nipping over his plush lips you got rougher.

The poor boy whimpered onto the kiss, trying to keep up as you kissed him deeper, tongue pressing into his mouth as nails dug into the delicate skin of his jaw.

You moaned as you felt his fingers move to your hips, desperately clutching them, pulling you closer to him until there was no space but your clothes separating your bodies.

You pulled away breathless, “Oh, but love...” you trailed off as he shifted onto his back, pushing the pillow away and sliding his shorts the rest of the way off. He held your eyes as he slowly opened his legs as if he was presenting himself to you.

You tried to fight back the urge to take the cage off his swollen weeping cock this very second and ride him hard until you could finally satisfy the ache between your legs that had become apparent ever since you’d walked in on him humping your pillow. 

Why did he have to be so irresistible?

The way he now cocked his head to the side, all laid out just for you. Eyes glowing in arousal and pure unfiltered want, looking at you as if you were a goddess and he your loyal worshipper. Hair fanned out around him against the white sheets, a lip caught between his teeth.

It was sinful, the thoughts that ran through your mind as his puffy pink lips parted briefly to swipe a tongue across them. The way his eyes were blown wide almost swallowing all of the white in a lust-filled haze.

Even the way he laid across the bed, open and timid-submissive to you-putting on a show of all of his most vulnerable parts to show you how you owned him.

Urging you, teasing you, begging you to touch him.

He was beautiful.

Holy.

Sinful.

So goddamn fucking erotic.

He let out a helpless moan. "Please," he whined, so cutely, so wantonly "can't take it anymore. Need you, need to cum."

And then it snapped.

You couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment your willpower broke.

When you unlocked him and made the decision to take off your clothes and climb on top of him, a growing smirk on his face at the fact that he’d finally gotten you to give into his desires. 

The chastity cage that had kept him from his high for a week was long forgotten, carelessly thrown somewhere on the floor of your room.

It was all a haze.

All you knew was the pleasure that was now coursing through your veins like a drug, an endless cease of moans reverberating deep in your chest, bouncing up and down at a rapid pace as Jeongin’s hands clutched your hips for dear life, whimpering as his body shook from the sensitivity of being denied all week long.

Head thrown back, writhing, whining and sobbing, he was so beautiful.

His eyes squeezed shut, mouth opened and brows drawn together as his brain tried to catch up with the sensation of you wrapped around him. Wet and hot-it felt so fucking good, he could barely comprehend it.

A hand tilted his chin up, “Look at me, Jeongin.” At your command, he obeyed, a whimper escaping at your tone of voice-dark and demanding-sending chills down his spine.

“Where’d my good baby go?” You questioned.

Blunt nails dug into soft skin, creating a dull pain in your hips that you could barely feel from the way that you moved up and down his length, thighs beginning to burn from exertion. “I-i’m your good boy. I-”

You pulled his arms off of you, holding them together above his head by the wrist with one hand while the other moved to his bottom lip, a thumb swiping across it until he opened and your finger slipped in.

The digit pushed down on his tongue, a muffled moan adding to the obscene noises that echoed throughout the room. Your skin tingled at the wet heat of his mouth, the way that the muscle circled your finger, sucking it deeper until it pressed against the back of his tongue-not nearly long enough to reach his throat.

A helpless mewl escaped around it and his eyes threatened to roll back but a threatening pinch to the skin of his wrist had him struggling to keep them on you. 

“Are you really my good baby? Cause my good boy would’ve waited ‘til I unlocked him, instead of putting on a show like a little whore.” The bouncing had stopped, slowing to grinding thrusts that had his head head and any rational thought in it melting.

He shook his head, so fervently that your thumb slipped out of his mouth. “No! I’m your good boy, Mummy! Please, I’m your good boy!”

“I don’t know Innie...” letting out a quiet moan as his tip hit that spot that made you see stars, “t-this wasn’t how a good boy acts.” Your voice was condescending, as if you were explaining it to a toddler. 

“A-ah, shit!” His hips bucked up into you, hitting that spot once more. “M-making me...making me f-feel so go-good. You’re making m-me feel so good, Mummy” He babbled on stupidly.

You stopped your movements, ignoring the way your body screamed to continue on. Leaning down to whisper in his ear, so close to him that your chests pressed together. 

“You gotta stop Innie, you’re being a bad boy.” You purr, petting his hair and watching as he squirms, tears beginning to leak from his eyes, crystalline and ethereal.

“P-promise. I’ll-I’ll be your go-od. Jus’ wanna be good for you~”

Gripping the roots of his hair you continue at a bruising pace, sending him into an incoherent frenzy of whimpered pleads. “It’s a good thing you’re so good at begging, b-baby.” the words are panted, spoken coated in pure lust as you’re so close to ecstasy. “So pretty and whiny, who knows where you’d be without it, huh?”

His throat is dry and all he can feel is the burning desire to fall, so deep and so far down, knowing that you’ll be there to keep him safe until he can climb back up but he still needs one thing. 

“’M y-your good boy-right?” His gaze barely meet yours, fluttering, wet with tears and threatening to fall shut as he begs you. “Te-tell me ‘m your go-good boy. N-need it, please I need it!”

You’re so close, so very close and the way that his voice quivers and drools and tears covering his face is enough to push you straight to the edge. Your voice is raspy and husky, barely a whisper as your body leans over his.

“Let go Innie. My pretty little good boy.” 

Your teeth sink into the delicate skin of his throat. His cry dies in his throat and his back arches up off the bed as you claim him; pleasure overwhelming the two of you.

And then it’s just sensations.

Pleasure. Want. Need.

Primal desires.

The feel of your body moving against his.

The lewd wet noises of skin hitting skin filling the room.

His moans, whimpers, cries, wanton mewls. Wanting, needing-pleading, begging for more, more, more.

The way you clench around him, hips moving, thighs burning, grinding, faster and faster. Gasping, panting, hollow groans adding and mixing into the cacophony of sounds.

His toes curl and your hand pushes harder down on his wrists, his fingers twitching uselessly-looking for something to bind him to the earth as his head threatens to float away.

“Pl-please! Please, ho-hold my hand, ah!”

Your fingers lace with his as waves of pleasure roll over your body and you both release. 

Bodies tense as it hits like a fucking truck with a jaw-dropping intensity.

Euphoria.

Your breath hitches in complete in utter bliss and tears stream down Jeongin’s face as his eyes tip onto the back of his head, cumming so hard he can see stars swimming in his vision.

Your breath finally comes back to you and you gulp it down in huge gulps, lungs burning, trying to catch up. 

You come back to your senses first. Slowly as to try not to overstimulate either of you, pull off of him, fluids gushing out of you, landing on him and ruining the sheets.

Falling onto the bed next to him you begin to smooth over his sweaty hair, cooing sweet praises and pet names as he slowly comes back, blinking and whining as he moves to cling to you.

“Hey,”

“Hi.” He giggles, voice quiet and shy as he buries himself impossibly closer as if trying to fuse himself into you.

“Was that okay?”

Jeongin peeks up at you, pink-cheeked and heart-eyed to match your own “It was perfect. I love you, Mommy.” 

Fingers lace with yours once more and you can feel your heart warm. Giving him a kiss on the forehead, smoothing his hair back. “I love you too, my good boy.”

[merrybloomwrites]

hi!!! Love your writing especially Smosh and stuff I feel like there’s so little Damien content that isn’t smut based yknow? Like smuts great but sometimes I wanna be a little sad and have pretty men tell me I’m worth it yaknow? Anyway! This might be a little long sorry

I have a request and this may be like to dark and if it is you can always ignore this! <3 Damien Haas x Reader where they aren’t dating yet but they’re really close and reader has like high empathy and kind of low self esteem (sort of recovering pushover/people pleaser?) because reader is recently single after leaving a really toxic relationship where the person like guilt tripped and manipulated them into not hanging out with any of Rs friends anymore but after they broke up Damien and R get closer as friends again ya know? Anyways! One day they’re hanging out (either with a group or just two idc) and Reader suddenly gets a text from their ex and it’s like begging them to get back together with them and stuff (if your comfy maybe the ex like tried to threaten that’s they’ll harm themselves if they don’t) and reader kind of panics about it and Damien comforts them.

sorry this is so long I love your writing and of course if this makes you uncomfortable at all feel free to ignore it! Thank you!!!

Thank you so much for this message!

I won't lie, I can't really bring myself to write smut for the Smosh boys (aside from some kissing). Maybe it's because I feel like they may someday find my writing and I can't live with that haha

That being said, I can absolutely fulfill this request!! Hurt/comfort is what I personally feel I write the best if I'm honest, so I will add this to my list!

[mistydeyes]

hii ! how have you been ? it's been 5 months since your last post, i hope you're doing well (⁠ ⁠◜⁠‿⁠◝⁠ ⁠)⁠♡

Omg...

First off, I just wanted to apologize for literally falling off the face of the earth. I realize that I left with our saying anything so there’s a bit of an explanation/“where is this blog going?” below. School majorly is the cause of that as I realized I needed to lock down in my classwork and really shape tf up. Second, something about my own disappointment with the third game kinda started my writers block. I know it's silly but I couldn't bring myself to write and actually play the game to get new content :(

What’s going to happen to mistydeyes?

Sooo for now, I am on an indefinite hiatus!

All requests have been closed and while I do have some sitting in my drafts, I’m not too sure if/when I will get to it. I appreciate everyone who has submitted but I wanted to be totally transparent with those unfinished works

Also not to worry, I will still keep this blog up and make sure my master list is updated. So if you ever want to read any of my previous works, they’re still there

I also wanted to address that I love when y’all use my medical templates and will always support when I come across them :) You are more than welcome to use them, sorry if I haven’t made that clear in previous posts

Izzie Updates (not as important but I thought if anyone would like to know)

I took psychiatry core (basically everything you ever need to know about psych pharmacy) and needless to say, I fell in love with it! I am seriously considering pursuing a residency in the subject and hope to work in a psychiatric hospital as a pharmacist. I am taking an advanced neuropsychiatry course in the fall and cannot be more excited! I find so much interest in the field and secretly have Tumblr to thank for that (as well as Ghost, my complicated boy he is)

I also am working full time at a pharmacy during the summer and will be working in a psych hospital when I go back to school. This is partially why I think it would be the best idea to go on an indefinite hiatus as it’s gonna get busy busy for me :(

Finally, I’m entering my last year of classes before I go on rotation and I can’t tell you how happy (and also tired) I am! I will sincerely miss my little author notes that provide you all updates but that’s where I’m at now

And with that, I believe that is all for now! I am currently working on one last work for the meantime and it may or may not have to do with our fave pharmacist leaving the base pharmacy. Now that I’m realizing, that was a shameless self insert…

Anyways, I will miss the regularity of checking my page and seeing all the love as well as content from everyone. I hope you are all doing well and cannot thank you enough for the support these last couple months. If you ever see me active or furiously reblogging posts at 3am, feel free to pop in and say hi! Also if there’s any other questions or concerns I have not answered here, feel free to comment or pm me :)

With that, I love you all and thank you again <3

[i-smoke-chapstick]

hii!!! if you’re still taking any workaholics requests i would DIE for hcs of the boys having a clingy s/o please 😭😭 (i love your gotham fics btw! <3)

‘HOW YOU GET THE GIRL,

-WORKAHOLICS TRIO X READER-

⋆ Characters ↬ Anders Holmvik, Blake Henderson, Adam DeMamp

⋆ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 ; The big three with an affectionate/clingy gf!

⋆ tags/warnings. WORKAHOLICS!boys x female reader. FLUFF!!! Like, tooth-rotting. Especially for Blake. LET ME JUST SAY i had SOSOSOSO much fun writing this!! I’ve been dying for workaholics requests ;) Safe to say, all three of the boys are EXTREMELY into this. Please please PLEASE send in more requests for these boys!!! And seriously anon, I am starving and will write anything for anyone in the show!! You should send more in (wink wink) and thank you sosososo much <3 Canon typical suggestive content and drug talk! Anders being a little mean, Blake being a babe, and Adam being his own warning (per usual)

𝐴𝑁𝐷𝐸𝑅𝑆 𝐻𝛰𝐿𝑀𝑉𝐼𝐾

♫ “I want you for worse or for better, I would wait for ever and ever.” How You Get The Girl by Taylor Swift

Anders, Anders, Anders! Number one dad boyfriend, by the way!

Just like everyone on this list, he’s incredibly surprised to say the least. He’s just WAY more subtle about it. First rule of thumb for him; play it cool.

But…it’s kind of hard to play it cool when you are trailing your hand up his arm…and his eyebrows shoot up and suddenly he’s hard as a rock from the most base touches.

He’s embarrassed, he feels like he’s back in highschool.

Even though he’s the most expirenced out of the three, this guy still hardly gets ANY pussy. He can be an awkward reck trying to reciprocate. We see in a few episodes how Ders flirts…and it’s mostly insults. Like that one ep with the hot austrailian temp, or the college girls he tried to get beer for.

But please, give him a break! The guy freezes up. He’s not used to having a girlfriend PERIOD, let alone one that actually wants to hang out with him and cuddle all the time. So, he might awkwardly start fumbling on his words, scanning all over your body for any type of positive response. His legs do that thing when they close together to hide his painfully obvious boner, and he’s spewing out poorly constructed jibes.

He might be the only guy on this list to get slightly annoyed if your TOO clingy, but that’s really only if he’s in one of his moods. Like if he’s getting really serious about work, and doing pretty poorly, he can be a bit of a douche.

Remember when he got that promotion? Yeah, he’ll act like he’s on top of the world. You, Blake, and Adam will need to knock him down a peg. He’ll end up saying sorry, a bit begrudingly.

But, in other times…

“Wha- What are you doing?” He’s scrutinizing you, breath hitching, while you go to sleep on his shoulder. You’ve been waiting in the hospital waiting room for what feels like hours. Poor Adam must have gotten ANOTHER concussion.

You wrap your arms around his bicep, snuggling closer. He shifts in his seat, clearing his throat, looking anywhere but you.

“I’m tired.” Is all you say, shrugging. No big deal.

But it IS a big deal for him because now he’s hard in a hospital waiting room and he’s cursing Adam for getting himself hurt, because he could be at home with you right now watching all the 80’s movies in the world and spooning.

“Of course you’re tired. I told you, you need to get more sleep.” You smile against his shoulder. He’s always looking out for you.

He continues, trying to flirt to the best of his abilities. Play it cool. “Wow, your head’s surprisingly heavy for someone so small.” A pause, and an awkward not at all suave smirk. “Careful, you might crush my shoulder with that big head of yours.”

Please humor him. He doesn’t know and he’s trying his best. Que a really bad shit-eating grin, since he thinks he’s made you fall for him ten times harder with that one-liner.

He truly thinks he is the teasing god. Leave you wanting more! He’s so delusional <3 (heart-eyes)

DEFINITION of “If a boy likes you, he’ll make fun of you.”

When you two are alone, especially if he’s tired, he’ll return the snuggles and clinginess tenfold. Be prepared for long limbs to be pressed impossibly close to you.

𝐵𝐿𝐴𝐾𝐸 𝐻𝐸𝑁𝐷𝐸𝑅𝑆𝛰𝑁

♫ “Yeah, with pictures in frames of kisses on cheeks, cheeks.” How You Get The Girl by Taylor Swift

You two match each others freak SO well.

If there is one man who might be clingier than you, it’s Mr. Blake Henderson. The man is not only absolutley elated, he’s incredibly perpetually chill. Doesn’t bother him in the slightest bit.

He might get a little shy if you do it in public, but he’ll embrace it nonetheless and end up showing you off. Feels good to get back at Anders and Adam for teasing him all these years!

He has the lowest body count of all the guys. Not only does he have the greatest bestest awesomest girlfriend in the world, but she actually wants HIM? To touch HIM? To love HIM?

Safe to say he’s pleasantly surprised. Like, REALLY pleasantly surprised.

The love he has for you is crazy. We saw that one episode where he gets a girlfriend…he had a BUNCH of pictures of her in a shrine. Yeah…he’s just as obsessed. Expect everytime you two lay down together, he’s shuffling constantly, each second muttering “Just one more picture, I swear!”

ALSO, the PET NAMES. I mean, this man cannonically uses them all. “My love, Baby, Babe, Sweetheart, Hun…” the list goes on and on. Perfect mix of him calling you “Dude!” and “Sweetheart!” constantly.

Day-dreams about you. Giggles and kicks his feet and probably has a journal where he just draws hearts with your initials in them.

Gets on his knees and thanks the based god every day for you!

Also, if you two are both high as balls, the clinginess factor of the both of you probably increases by one thousand percent. There is something so special and hot about how he shotguns smoke into your mouth. All feelings are elevated, and he’s literally cloud nine. You two are laughing, talking about the most insane (and probably bad) ideas. Every touch feels heavenly.

His arms will hold you close to his chest, nuzzling into the crook of your neck and tickling your ear with his whispers.

“You know, It’s scientifically proven that cuddling releases oxytocin, which makes us even happier. So, really, we’re just being health-conscious.” He’s laughing softly, mispronouncing ‘oxytocin’, speaking in that matter-of-factly tone, saying anything that comes to mind.

“Oh, so you’re a scientist now?” You tease back, all hazy, feeling nothing but him.

“Well, I’m more of a cuddle connoisseur. It’s a very specialized field.”

You too are so dorky and in love. It’s like Michael and Holly from the Office!

Que Adam making obnoxious throwing-up noises in the background when he sees you two all over eachother.

𝐴𝐷𝐴𝑀 𝐷𝐸𝑀𝐴𝑀𝑃

♫ “She'll open up the door, and say, are you insane?” How You Get The Girl by Taylor Swift

Oh god reader, you’ve got your hands FULL with this one.

This man is so dramatic it’s crazy.

At first, he’s just as surprised as the other two. Just like Ders, he tries DESPERATELY to play it cool. Unlike Ders, he lacks the self-awareness to realize he is most certainly not. He swears up and down on his liveleyhood that this is totally normal for him and that he’s just a total chick magnet.

But you can probably feel his heart-rate shoot up every time you say anything remotely affectionate, or touch him in any sort of way. He’s internally screaming, “OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD!”

When he catches on that the guys are looking though, him and his masculinity feel a bit threatened, and he instantly pulls away. Can get a little douche-baggy. He’ll start avoiding you, distancing himself.

Blowing a fake raspberry when you confront him about it, his hands on his hips.

“What? Whaaaat?” He tries to lean on a wall and almost falls and recovers quickly. “No, babe, I’m not avoiding you! I’m just… really into personal space. Like, super into it. It’s my new hobby.”

“Adam, that makes no sense. Just be honest with me. Are you feeling smothered?” You’re understandably upset, pouting. Being clingy is one thing, and you can work on it. But he has to admit it first.

“Smothered? Psh- No way! I love you like I love… free samples at Costco. Which is a lot. Maybe I just need to balance my, uh, alpha male energy with some solo missions. Like a lone wolf.” He’s scrambling to save himself, “But not alone, because I’m with you. A wolf with a really awesome mate. You get it?”

You nod, eyes squinting in faux understanding. You know this boy inside out and you love him, so you know all he needs really is a push. Drama queen that he is, he falls for it like a moth to a flame.

Funny enough, all you have to do is exactly what he asks. You give him his space, go about your day, tend to other things…and he freaks out! My favorite idiot <3

Yeah…he ends up ranting Ders and Blake’s ears off. About how your not talking to him anymore, how much he misses you, and how he is a “stupid, stupid, dumb, dumb idiot.”

He starts subtly trying to show off more than usual in the living room, flexing and doing dangerously bad tricks on his rollerblades, asking if you saw them one to many times. He’s just acting out, and you and Ders and Blake are watching amused.

What you don’t expect is too get woken up in the middle of the night with a rock FLYING into your window. You let out a harsh scream, immediately waking up and looking outside.

There he is, struggling to hold up a boom-box blasting some sad 2000s ballad by Lisa Loeb. You’ll have to go outside, and he’ll probably burst into tears about how sorry he is and offer to do anything to make it up to you. Your plan probably worked a bit too well.

You’ll let him spend the night in your room, and he’ll be the little spoon, and he’ll know never to take you for granted like ever again.

From then on, he’s twice as clingy as you.