#and that there was nothing that could be done bc HE already ruined it just like he ruins everything else

[scekrex]

There's a chance you've already done this prompt before but it's hard for me to check so if you've already done a fic like this dont worry Abt it! Adam x Male!reader btw.

Maybe a "I wish you were a girl" situation, but more from the readers point of view? Like he knows Adam has ever shown interest in girls, and constantly bitches about his wives. (And only ever flirts with random angels who are girls) So when Reader realizes he has a crush on him, he has doubts and never ever thinks that Adam would ever like him back. (Even tho I'm a firm believer of bi Adam.)

I don't know where to go from there, but maybe the reader figures out he DOES have a chance somehow? That or just straight up hurt/no comfort...

Okay so I don't think I've written this or something similar before and if u have I don't remember so here ya go <3

He likes a girl and I'm not a girl

pairing: Adam x male!reader

warnings: language

note: not beta read bc fuck you

For a guy who claimed to be a simple man, Adam was quite complicated in your eyes, though that had more to do with his behavior towards you than with anything else. On the outside everything was fine, the two of you were just pals - quite close pals but nothing more.

On the inside however - or specifically on your inside - the knowledge of being ‘just friends’ ate you up like a five star meal. Because how were you supposed to enjoy the beauty of Heaven if a certain brunette kept shattering your heart over and over again? How were you supposed to enjoy the divine afterlife they had promised you when the man you liked kept flirting with girls - girls who only looked half as good as you, girls who were good at sucking his dick and making pretty eyes at him, girls who were whores. You desperately wanted to grab Adam by his shoulders and shake him, you wanted to shake some sense into him, wanted to punch his face and kiss his lips at the same time and while you definitely were able to punch his face without ruining the friendship, you were quite unable to kiss his soft looking and inviting lips without setting the bond the two of you had formed on fire.

Adam was not into guys, he had made that clear over the past thousand years, he was ‘dating’ - more like hooking up with - women and women only and even if the first man would be into men, there was no guarantee that he would be into you. But there wasn’t even the slightest chance for you, Adam wasn’t into men and you - a man - were into Adam. It was doomed to fail, doomed to tear your heart apart over and over again but you refused to leave his side. You cared about the stupid fucker and while it burned to see him happy with women - women who weren’t you and you whow ould never be a woman - you were glad that Adam had found something that brought him joy, even if that meant that you would suffer from the indescribable pain of unrequired love.

A price that sounded so meaningful, so expensive but then you would see Adam’s golden eyes, filled with pride and pure happiness whenever he talked to you about whatever chick he had fucked over the weekend. It was easy to tune his words out and simply watch his facial expressions change, it was so easy to ignore the fact that he was literally telling you about having sex with women you have never met and would never meet. And yet it was so hard.

If only God would have made you a woman, a beautiful one that would be Adam’s type. And while your looks would fit Adam’s type, your gender very much didn’t, oh the price you were willing to pay to be a woman just for one day, just so you could be Adam’s for a single day. But that would not happen, neither of it would. God would not turn you into a woman and you wouldn’t be Adam’s, not for a day and certainly not for longer.

The worst part of it all? Adam’s unintentional yet hurtful comments.

“Y’know,” he had once said after one of his gigs as he had his arm wrapped around your shoulders. You were expecting the first man to tell you which of the women in the crowd he’d invite backstage but instead of doing that he had leaned in close, so close that his hot breath was hitting your cheek. “If you were a chick I’d make you mine in no fucking time, dude.”

If you were a chick.

But you weren’t and as long as that was the case Adam was not interested in you in any other way than being friends. And while you had laughted it off, his words had haunted you for days, fuck they had even followed you in your sleep.

Or another time when you and him had gotten shitfaced during the boys night out. His arm had been around your waist, his other hand was roaming over your body stopping at your chest, squeezing it, “For a dude you have fucking nice tits, man.” The alcohol had been audible in his voice and despite the fact that he was aware that you weren’t one of his girls, he kept touching you.

-

The first man was sitting next to you, your side was pressed flush against his as his arm was resting on the backrest of the couch right behind your head. Confidently he spoke, “So y’know how you’re into dudes?” Now that was straight up the dumbest question the first man had ever asked you and lets just say that he asked quite a lot of stuff. You fake gasped at him, “What, I’m into dudes? Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” That earned you a playful smack on the back of your head, turning your shocked expression into an amused grin. “Fuckhead,” the first man mumbled, “I’m being fucking serious here.” You simply shook your head in amusement, not quite sure where this conversation would lead you to - why was Adam suddenly interested in the fact that you liked men? Was he trying to set you up with someone?

“Yeah, why though?” you hummed right before you took a sip of your drink - a thing you regretted only seconds later when Adam said, “Do you know any fuckable dudes?” The sip wasn’t swallowed, instead you spit it out in pure shock.

What did he just say?

[ocdhuacheng]

denji bby boy if you met my dog you would know without a doubt that they stink 

[no-one-hears-me]

the constant conflict between leaving quietly and peacefully vs demanding answers and making him hurt like he hurt me

[kaicubus]

Distraction | Xavier T.

warnings ✩° : mutual pining, angry(?) confession, teasing, competition, cursing, rivals to lovers, both reader and xavier are 17-18 years old, fluff but also a tad spice.

pairing ✩° : xavier thorpe x fem!reader

premise ✩° :  on the day of the annual poe cup, you're put against your academic rival, xavier thorpe, and you don't want to lose. however, he has other plans of  getting the upper hand with you and knows exactly how to get his way. hes knocking out two birds with one stone, if you will.  

word count ✩° : 3.4k

authors note ✩° : this was done in literally a few hours bc i’m obsessed and it needs to be addressed.

The rules were simple.

They always have been. Follow what the people in charge told you and don't disappoint. If you disappoint them then you disappoint the whole community and what good are you if you're a disappointment. It was hard not to see school, ground zero for being the best, as a competition. In fact, you thrived working towards a goal of being superior than everyone else; maybe it was due to the fact that no matter what was put in front of you, you could understand it and write it off as done as soon as you wrote your name. However, there were some things you didn't get at times and that frustrated you.

Over the time you’ve known him, it’s been test after test, assignment after assignment, obscure experiment after obscure experiment to prove to this seemingly effortlessly perfect creature that you’re better than him, only for you to miss his mark by one. point.

“Maybe you should think less about being better than me and more about the material, Y/n.” Xavier would say, “But don’t worry, you ALMOST got the same score as me.”

It wasn't his snarky comments or obviously stronger memory than you that made you over the top angry, no, it was the fact that you couldn't understand how he was doing it. Nothing made sense and the feeling of not knowing made looking into his stupid hazel eyes, gazing at his sharp and defined side profile, and wispy long hair all the more annoying. Everything has to have answers. So why did he make your throat tighten every time you spoke to him? Or your face flush with dark shades of pink and red? It had to be anger. There was no other explanation.

All of the rivalry would eventually lead you both up to the annual Poe Cup. A boat race amongst four teams, five members from each house all stuck together on their respective hand crafted boats each representing a different Edgar Allen Poe poem.

You're on The Black Cat team while Xavier’s on The Amontillado team. For a whole week you spend with your team, preparing for the race and to utterly destroy Xavier because this will finally prove to yourself that you’re good at him at something.

“You ready to beat the shit out of Xavier, Y/n?” Your friend who knows your rivalry with the guy smiles at you, “Once WE have that cup he has to realize that all he is to you, is dirt.” She was right.

“Relax, F/n, why ruin my chances with excitement when I can take all of that and shove it in his face at the very end.”

Your other team mate taps you both on your shoulders, “You guys ready? It’s almost time.” With that, you watch everyone file into their boats, Xavier included, and so you and your friend make your way into your own seats. However, just before you adjust your headband on your head, you decide to catch a glimpse of the destined losers on each side of you. Though no one else is important right now other than seeing him, so you give a side eyed glance in Xavier’s direction.

To your surprise, not only is he already looking at you, but, “Is he laughing at me?”

Your friend looks towards Xavier as well and scoffs, “Yeah,” She confirms, “Looks like they all are. Fucking clowns.”

As you chew on the inside of your cheek out of anger, a sudden whistle blows from Ms. Weems accompanied by a large megaphone that amplifies her voice as she speaks.

You can tell out of the corner of your eye that ever since your friend had rudely thrusted her middle finger into the sky for all the jesters to see, Xavier hadn't stopped looking at you. His eyes, laser focused, burned into the side of your head and it only made you more anxious for the race. You bite your lip ever so slightly and fight back the urge to look at him too.

Thankfully, you're saved by a gunshot that explodes into the air and suddenly your team gets pushed into the water.

Of all things, why should you be thinking about Xavier Thorpe and what he has to say or look at you for? All this time, you've convinced yourself that you could care less what he thinks of you. After all, the reason you're trying so hard to be better than him is the very reason that motivates you every day to get up and face him. Otherwise, you'd be locked away in your dorm with nothing to do but attend class and repeat the cycle. In a way, he was your reason to wake up.

“Y/N! Duck!” Your friend suddenly snaps you out of your mechanical like motions of rowing as hard as possible. Wasting no time, you dodge the flying axe coming your way by a hair. “What the hell?! Y/n, focus!”

“I am focused, F/n.”

“No, you're not. You got that lost look in your eyes. Stop thinking about Xavier and maybe pay attention to all the objects being thrown around at us? So you don't die, and most importantly, so we can win this for our hall?”

For the rest of the distance from the starting line to the other end of the lake, you try not to look behind you as looking behind you would only distract you from the prize. All of your team puts in their all in rowing as fast as they can together in sync, each arm pushing at the exact same second as everyone else to really glide through the water. Despite nets being tossed, siren students diving under boats and tipping them over, and very small fire crackers being thrown into other boats, three teams are left remaining to the next stage of the race. Getting the flag.

“Go go go!” F/n pushes you up, “Get the black flag. We’ll be waiting here to look out for anybody.”

Not wanting to waste anymore time, you nod and start sprinting directly into the old, creaky forest. Dry leaves crunch under your feet in threes, making their crinkles the only noise in the entire forest. That’s good, you think, that means no one else came yet. Quickly jumping over logs and rocks, you make your way to the flag destination, only to see that your black flag is missing.

“What the—”

“Hey,” a voice calls out from behind you, “Looking for something?”

The cheesy line doesn't go without an eye roll as you turn around, “Xavier.”

“You don't seem too happy to see me.” Your rival stands with a shit eating grin on his face, comically extenuated with crimson, drippy paint.

You're quick to reply, “I'm not. You took my flag which I need to win this. So hand it over, Thorpe.”

He raises his hands and allows you to charge up to him just close enough so that you're barely touching the tips of his pointed shoes with your jet black boots. “What? Who says I have your flag? I JUST got here in case you hadn't noticed.”

“I actually haven't noticed. Because why would I stop to care about where you are?”

“You seemed to care when we first started.” Xavier leans down and twists his head slightly, just enough for you to be caught off guard and step back, “I saw you looking at me.” His tone makes you shrink back.

Heat rushes to your face in a fleeting panic and almost immediately, your chest twists your rib cage hard enough to squeak out, “I WASN'T LOOKING AT YOU! YOU were looking at ME!”

Xavier raises his brows and chuckles, “I remember differently.”

Of course he has to be cocky now. “Look, Xavier. Just forget this and let me go. Your gross sweat is getting all over me.”

“Oh is that so?”

“YESNOWLETGO.”

He snickers at your flustered nature but decides to go the extra mile and tease you further, “You do realize that we all have to get back, Y/n, its kinda the whole reason why we made it here. Though it looks like its just the two of us.” He turns to both of his sides and then directs his attention back to you, “I’d say we have a little time.”

Again, you emphasize, “WE don't have time. Unlike you, I actually WANT to win. Xavier, I don't know what your deal is or why you're so obsessed with me and making me look like a complete and utter fool, but once I win this for my team, it ends. Do you understand me?”

Xavier exhales deeply, “You know, for someone who’s so high strung and smart, you're really dumb, aren't you?”

“What?”

He steps forward, causing you to back into a tree. You can feel the roughness of the tree bark as it etches its way across the backside of your suit, causing a mildly discomforting feeling that shivers throughout your skin. Before you can move forward, Xavier steps closer, basically eliminating any means of escaping.

“Why am I so obsessed with you? Is that what you think this is? Obsession?”

You look up at him to find his naturally tall stature hunched over to be at eye level with you. Surely, if anyone to walk into the scene, they’d think you two were stopping the competition just to make out. Even though Xavier’s hand is firmly pressed just between your ear and shoulder and he was just over an inch close to you so that your noses are barley touching, it’s not like that at all. Yet, at least.

“That’s what I just asked.” Your eyebrows stitch together bitterly, “Can you not hear, clown? You don’t understand how hard it is for me to watch my reputation die because of you and your perfect grades and your perfect art. What makes you think you can just parade yourself around to be better than me?!” The questions leave a burning sensation in your throat.

“Reputation? Grades? Is that what this is about?”

“YES! Are you DENSE?!”

Instead of matching your violent glower, you watch as the clown leans his head to the side in laughter. His lips parting just enough so you can see his sharp teeth laugh at you too, “Y/n, did you just call me dense? What is that? An insult? At least I’m not the one who always scores lower than me.”

Embarrassment? Anger? Nervousness? Why was his laugh the thing to make you feel weak now? Maybe the first two are theories, but the third is a definite fact. Your eyes are quickly drawn in by his hazel pupils, curious and dilated as they stare back at you. For a moment, the silence between you two isnt filled with hate or rivalry, but peace. That is until he lets out a breathy laugh after getting a good look at your calm face for once.

“Y/n, cat got your tongue? Or do you just not have anything else to say to me other than ‘I hate you’ and ‘stop being better than me’?” He points a finger to your feline head accessory.

"Shut up.” You bark, “Dumb isn’t really a good insult either. You are so full of shit—"

Xavier moves closer, now toe to toe with you and just a breath away from your face.

“God, Y/n, cant you see that I like you? All this time I thought it was so obvious. I mean, how are you going to tell people you're the smartest person in the room when you cant even pick up on subtle hints that basically spell it out for you?” He says, “Or are you too busy to notice anyone other than yourself?”

His words cause your heart to pound once, twice, and before you know it you can’t hear anything but the thumping in your chest and the soft winds surrounding you both. Xavier parts his lips again, determined to give you the answers you've been so desperately searching for. 

“Do you know how fucking exhausting it is to pretend I hate you back, just to have the opportunity to talk to you?” His tone is exasperated and shallow, but he doesn't break eye contact with you, “You seriously thought all those times we got close was because I wanted to be ‘better’ than you in some subject?” Almost like he doesn't believe you, Xavier shakes his head in disapproval, “The only time Ive wanted to prove to you I'm worth something is now.”

His confession only fills your head with more questions, “That doesn't even make any sense! How can you say you didn't actually want to be better than me when that's all you did?” You feel the heat saturate into a dark pink that settles into your cheeks, “And why are you telling me all this now? Why are you so adamant on telling me that you—”

Xavier doesn't even acknowledge your questions, he just continues to hold a burning tension between you and him, focusing only on one thing.

Fuck.

Maybe its the fact hes so close, or that he told you hes liked you all this time, but right now it feels like nothings stopping you from telling him too. It just feels so right.

Before you know it, your mouth opens on its own, your bottom lip trembling for just a second. Xavier’s eyes trail down to your lips, then back into your eyes, and a small smirk pulls the corner of his ivory painted skin up.

Without another second to lose, Xavier tilts even closer than he thought he’d ever be to you and cups your cheek, finding the courage you both need to pull you into an unexpected kiss.

The pastiness of your rival’s white face paint rubs against your dewy skin as the taste of him spreads across your pallet, rough, warm, and agonizingly slow. With a gentle hand, you bunch the back of Xavier’s thin yet airy suit and fall into him, curving just enough so he can extend his hold on you.

Xavier knew that he wanted to touch you. It’s basically been his dream ever since he got close to you and seemingly hurdled himself into being your rival. But he’d never admit that. Or maybe, now he would. Gently, Xavier clasps onto your hips more carefully, securely rubbing his fingers against the skin tight latex uniform you were forced to wear which gives him enough grip to hook his desperate palms onto your body.

You break away for a second, just long enough to look at his face and how mesmerized he is by you and just how fucked you are in this downward spiral of messy feelings and requited love. Love you are much too afraid to commit to. But, Xavier pulls you back into his lips and makes you forget all of your worries, even the one you're supposed to be most worried about. 

The kiss practically captures you for what seems like an eternity, erasing all memory of the Poe Cup and time spent hating Xavier's guts only to now realize that that hate may have been fueled by a painfully simple crush. But you wouldn't admit that either. Though, now there’s no other explanation to the methods behind your madness.

Soon enough, your hands find their rightful place in his long, messy hair, scooting his jester cap off easily. Had you known his hair was this soft before? You always told yourself you didn't care but now it was too hypnotizing not to twirl your fingers in. In fact, it’s practically asking you to grab it and play with it, screaming at you to touch it, touch him.

Xavier’s hips press into yours, giving you the go ahead to adjust your position so that your thigh is comfortably resting atop his hip. The stance feels too natural to be normal, and you're both caught off guard by it. Yet, you continue to taste him and feel him up close without another thought.

Nipping at your bottom lip, you can feel Xavier let out a sigh of relief, as if kissing you has been something on his mind for years. Only half of that could be true. Still, his victory cheer makes you do your own version with a quieter huff.

You give the roots of his hair a tight squeeze before your shoulders relax and another sigh escapes from your now open mouth. The force of his lips smashing against yours pushes you back successfully, leaving each part of your body to surrender to his. For once, you let it and as much as you hate to admit it, whatever he was doing was working.

When he finally pulls away, your breath is harsh and so is his. No matter how hard you could try, looking away from his hazy eyes was not an option. Just like the fog around you both, his gaze is inescapable and suffocating. You knew kissing your rival was a bad idea, but neither one of you want to move your hands from their proper places on each other.

Just then, a distant voice calls out to Xavier that snaps you out of your absentmindedness. “Shit,” Xavier curses softly against your lips, “Thanks for that Y/n,” he pulls away, much to your hidden displeasure, “But...I have a cup to win.”

Suddenly, it all comes hurdling back.

“FUCK! THE RACE!” You tear yourself away from Xavier, breaking the warmth between you both, and scramble to find your flag, “YOU CONNIVING SON OF A BITCH. YOU DISTRACTED ME!”

“I hope you don't mind but I actually sort of hid it.” He grins slyly at you, straightening his suit with a swift rub on his chest, “No rules, remember?” He pulls out a flag from behind him and snickers. Has he had that this entire time?

A flash of surging anger fumes inside of your chest, but Xavier just smiles. In his mind, it’s almost laughable how you fell for his devious yet successful confession slash plan. It was too good to pass up. And judging by the sour pout on your face, it worked!

“Y/n,” He chirps, “Was I a good distraction?” He can’t help but ask.

You avoid his gaze and turn your head to other possible directions your flag can be in, “You're the worst, Xavier.”

He runs a hand through his brown hair and smooths it down, “Right, right. You hate me. But I got you pretty good, didn’t I?” He picks up his jester cap and lazily smashes it onto the top of his head, “I'm gonna go, but, you should totally meet me in my dorm tonight? At 8?”

He makes his hasty exit before you can reply, leaving you breathless and weak in the knees—mostly tight fisted and furious, but still, weak in the knees.

“So, Y/n. Do you want to explain why you...left for so long..?” Your teammate asks, kind of scared to ask in the first place but confusion was eating her alive. How fitting.

Instead of answering, you reply with strong and swift robotic motions that quickly thunk your boat along the shore line, taking a good chunk out of the grass and soil. Unfortunately, half way through your synchronized rowing, some water kicked up into the boat and soaked your costume. You didn't care though. All you wanted was Xavier.

And his head on a stick.

Sounds of congratulatory cheers erupt from the crowd as Xavier and the rest of his jester-like teammates hold up the Poe Cup trophy together.

“Bitch.” Is all you can say when all your other teammates wash up next to you, sad, defeated, and soaked with murky lake water.

“Well get them next time, Y/n. Don’t be so hard on yourself!” Your friend smiles happily.

Yeah. Tonight.

[jackandspaghetti]

not a vacation. (jack hughes x female reader, smut)

summary: they just wanted to get freaky w no distractions, life is hard. and jack has been too, so these two goofies needed some satisfaction! they figured a hotel was the way to do it. dont ask me, im just the messenger. this was written via divine inspiration.

warnings: sex (p in v) unprotected (assume bc), praise, idk man this is my first time im a virgin to writing smut

other notes: random context, i think Y/N is in college for this and also she is living w jack. its a fic bae don't read into all that too much

wc: 3k

Y/N and Jack are finally on vacation. Well, it’s only for a couple nights, and they do not have plans to do anything. They really just wanted to get away. With all of Jack’s hockey stuff finally done for the season, and with Y/N’s academic year having come to a close, they just needed a break.

Originally, they were just going to spend time together at their own house. They do it all the time, and they certainly enjoy it, but that did not feel like enough of a reset. Their families could still show up at their door at any moment, or even solicitors were enough to ruin their peace in each other’s company. So, they decided they would go to a random town not too far away and stay a few nights in a hotel. Somewhere that their families would not find them. Somewhere quiet. With few tourists. A place where there would be little noise to distract them, and few people to be distracted by the noise they would inevitably make together.

Anyway, this was not really a vacation. It was a desperate retreat to a place where Y/N and Jack could just immerse themselves in each other with no consequences or disruptions. Neither one even plans to leave the hotel for any reason except to quickly grab food or to stop at a convenience store.

The two check into their single-bed hotel room, a pretty nice one thanks to Jack’s being famous and everything. Neither one has brought many clothes. They don’t anticipate wearing them very often. The couple wastes no time in racing to their room for some privacy.

The minute they walk into their home for the next few days, Y/N throws her bags down and puts the “Do Not Disturb” sign on the door handle. Then she locks the door and spins on her heels to face Jack. They both seem to let out a breath of relief. They have both been terribly horny for days. Not that they haven’t had sex in those days, but their desire just keeps returning. They can’t seem to get a break from it for any longer than Jack’s refractory period. So here they stand, in utter silence, staring at each other with hungry eyes in their new little hideaway. Each one waiting to see if the other will make a move.

Suddenly, Jack lunges at Y/N and wraps her up in a passionate, sensual kiss. He is breathing heavily into her mouth and already sounding like a hungry man who will do anything for a bite.

“Ohhhh Y/N,” he’s kissing her deeply. At some point, he picks her up, because now he’s carrying her and pushing her onto the neatly made hotel bed.

She immediately responds, moaning into his mouth and wrapping her legs around him when he lifts her. She feels the way her panties are soaked through and at that moment, she is desperate to be wearing nothing. To feel all of his skin against all of hers. She whimpers, “Oh god babe I’m so wet.”

Jack is on top of her now. He grunts when he hears that, and he pushes his own hips down onto hers. They are both still fully clothed, but his erection is no secret when it’s pressing against Y/N. And he can easily feel the intense heat radiating off of her through her sweatpants. These respective sensations are enough to make the two of them moan together, on fire with want as they notice each other’s arousal.

Jack whispers, “Mmmm feel that baby?”

Her voice is whiny and a little pathetic with frantic desire. “Not sure if you’re talking about you or me, but I feel us both. Jesus Christ you’re hard. Ohhhh fuck.”

He chuckles a bit at her little display of desperation, and he slides his warm hands into her sweater, onto the even warmer skin of her stomach. His voice is gentle, soothing, but intimidatingly so. It’s clear that behind it, he is trying to control an unusual amount of arousal, a primal need to have Y/N naked and flushed and sweating beneath him. These images are flashing through his mind when he says, “All for you. God, look at you.”

His hands slide further, hiking up her sweater and revealing a bit of her abdomen. Y/N sighs as those familiar fingers graze her skin. She hears the quietest groan in Jack’s chest, and the sound of his pleasure in this moment, from just touching her, multiplies her own pleasure tenfold. His hands are on her bra. Her nipples are so hard that they are obvious through the padding, and both Jack and Y/N make a strained noise when he feels them.

Y/N starts to grasp his sweatshirt, arching her back a bit with desperation, and Jack knows neither of them can live like this a second longer. His own dick is currently being suffocated as it strains for this girl.

“Clothes are so uncomfortable, aren’t they baby?” he pulls her sweater off in a sudden hurry, followed by his own sweatshirt. The clothes end up somewhere, who knows, the only important thing is that they aren’t here.

She whimpers, “Yeah…oh my god…” as she feels utterly overwhelmed by his determination.

Jack’s eyes hungrily scan Y/N’s partially exposed body as he makes quick work of his jeans, unbuttoning and unzipping like he has been in this situation, urgently taking his pants off, many times before. He has. Then they are off and gone and no longer in the universe and he is only in his boxers, yanking Y/N’s pants off with a frustrated grunt.

She has not really been doing anything to help; she has just been watching him in awe, blushing at his urgency. She decides this is her chance. Y/N places her palm firmly against Jack’s hard, fabric-covered cock, rubbing a bit and relishing in the way it reacts to her. The way it seems to have a mind of its own, twitching and straining under her touch. Jack groans, very audibly this time, as he feels this and stares down at Y/N in her bra and panties, so beautiful and laying right beneath him. His voice is low, “I need you baby. I…” his voice drifts off, unable to think straight as he sees her looking so helpless for him.

Y/N finally speaks up, though the tension is so palpable that she can only manage a whisper for fear of shattering the moment. “Jack…” his eyes meet hers and she whimpers, “please, Jack.”

Normally, he would do a whole “please what?” thing and make her spell it out for him that she desperately wants him to fuck her. But this time, he is so hard that he just makes a noise in his throat and pulls his boxers off, setting his throbbing dick free. He runs his hands over Y/N’s bra before slipping them under her back and unhooking it, letting the cursed thing fall off her shoulders and throwing it into the abyss that is the world outside of this one embrace.

Y/N is immediately relieved and also sent into a fit of deeper arousal when she sees his cock, throbbing with need and dripping pre-cum, hard and ready to go, all for her. She doesn’t wait for him to take her panties off, she just lifts her hips and does it herself so that they are now both naked, stripped bare before each other and each one loving the other.

But forget that—this is about the sex.

Jack grabs her thighs and roughly pushes them wide apart, staring between them. He smirks, “Mmmmm poor thing. A pussy this wet can only mean you’re aching for me.”

A soft gasp escapes Y/N’s lips. “Yeah…” her breath is shaky, “it’s your fault.”

“All this? Plus all that was in your panties?” his voice drops to a whisper as he leans close to her ear, “I’m the only guy who can make you this wet, hm?”

“Yes.”

He seems proud of himself. Of course, he already knew all that, but that doesn’t mean hearing it is any less hot. His lips are just barely brushing against her ear, and she can feel his breath when he adds, “I’m the only one who can see this pretty thing? Touch you like this?”

This time, it just comes out of her. “Yes daddy.” She wasn’t even trying to do that. Something just comes over her sometimes when he acts like this, and her eyes widen when she realizes. Her face turns red.

But Jack isn’t bothered. He smirks. Almost chuckles a bit. He kisses right below her ear, sliding his hand down her waist and softly rubbing it against her stomach. Then, in that low, intimate voice, “Mmmm what was that?”

Y/N is losing her mind. She doesn’t know how he does all this when she knows he is equally desperate, but apparently her calling him daddy makes him want to mess with her. She’s not having it. She’s not too proud to say it again and make it a little more flowery this time. She sounds really helpless and a little louder when she responds, “I’m all yours, daddy. Take everything, I don’t care, just fuck me please.”

She doesn’t have to tell him twice. He lines himself up with her, purposefully letting his tip rub against her clit for a moment first. That makes her gasp. Then, “Sure, baby,” and he is pushing his dick into her, groaning a bit as the pressure and warmth of her pussy soothes his aching erection. “Shit, this is good.”

Y/N moans, her walls adjusting around him as she adapts to the sensation, and the feeling of being filled like that gives her face a glowy, though dazed, look. Her voice matches the look in a way, “Fuck…you feel so good daddy.”

“Mmm yeah?” he starts to slide in and out of her in a rhythm, slowly at first, “You like me on top of you, princess?”

He keeps going slowly, but starts to run his hand up her body, leaning in close as she whines, “Yes, daddy…ohhhh…” she doesn’t really know what to say. Her brain isn’t formulating responses when hes so close to her, touching her like that, fucking her like that, breathing on her skin.

“Good girl,” he slowly starts to kiss along her jaw, speeding up his thrusts just a bit. He seems to want this to last, but when he has been wanting her this bad, he has a limit to how much he can hold back. His lips eventually reach her ear, and he whispers, “This is where you belong. Right here under me baby. Your legs spread; your pussy wrapped around my cock like this.”

She gasps, then her exhale is just a moan. She starts to run her hands along his sides and his back, desperate to feel more of him as her breath becomes labored.

“Soooo wet…” his voice feels like poison, like it’s incapacitating her, but in such an addictive way; it’s like a drug. He grunts softly before speaking again, “and so, so tight…you feel like heaven, princess.” His hand reaches her breast and gently kneads the flesh as he starts thrusting his dick into her harder, though not any faster, feeling and relishing in the way her walls tighten and react to every adjustment.

Her eyes are fluttering as he praises the way she feels for him. Her nipples are hard, begging for stimulation when she feels his hand on her breast. It’s like he reads her mind, because in an instant he is teasing her nipple with his thumb, starting to plant hot, wet kisses on her neck. “Ohhhh…oh Jack,” she moans as he overloads her with pleasure all over, the sensations piling up and boiling over and causing her pussy to react, squeezing his dick for a moment as she arches her back just the slightest bit.

“Mmhmmm what about me baby? How does daddy’s cock feel?” His voice sounds rough, and he has to start fucking her faster. He needs more as he kisses and bites every sensitive spot on her neck that he knows so well, rubbing her precious breast with that one hand while his other arm is wrapped around her waist, supporting a bit of his weight against the bed. Her skin is hot and it’s all for him, “Tell me sweetheart.”

“Daddy…oh god it feels perfect…ohhh fuck it’s…mmm right there, daddy,” she whimpers as his dick rubs repeatedly against her g-spot, “so hard…fuck, you’re so hard and you stretch me out so good…” Her legs wrap around him, and she sighs under the weight of his warm body.

His mouth finds its way back to her lips, and now he’s moaning as well, making pleasured noises into her mouth as he fucks her hard and fast, feeling her tightness threatening to make him bust any minute now. He is panting as he speaks into the kiss, “Fuck, baby. Keep up that whimpering and shit.” He softly bites her bottom lip for a moment before he can’t do it anymore. He can’t focus on kissing her when her body feels like that. He adjusts his weight onto the other side and now the hand that was supporting him is all over her; it’s on her waist, on her breast, on her neck for a moment. Then it rests on her hip as he thrusts into her over and over and over again, watching the way her tits bounce from the force of his movements.

She does indeed keep up the whimpering. She is a moaning mess by now, her eyes closed more often than not, like her body doesn’t want to sense anything but this feeling. The warmth in her lower abdomen blooms like a flower, then spreads through her body like a flame. She is gasping with every breath, moaning with almost every exhalation. Y/N feels Jack’s cock staring to twitch inside her. She feels her own telltale spasms that come before orgasm too, crying out with pleasure, “Daddy!!! Ohhhhhh!!”

A small grunt escapes Jack’s chest with every thrust and his hand is gripping her hip so hard, squeezing the flesh like his life might depend on it. Their heavy breaths mix as he puts his face against hers. Sounds of panting and moaning fill the room, along with the sounds of the sheets rustling just slightly under their movements, and of course the sound of wet slapping as his pelvis repeatedly pounds into hers.

Jack speaks in a rough, strained voice, “I’m so fucking close baby. Oh, fuck you make daddy feel so damn good.”

Y/N replies frantically, almost pathetically, “Me too oh god me too. I’m gonna cum daddy oh you feel so good.”

He groans and speaks again, urgency in his voice now, though not replacing the sound of authority that has been there this whole time, “Fuck! Okay princess I need you to let go. Cum for daddy c’mon baby.”

If she wasn’t already going to cum just from the sensations of all this, those words definitely do the trick. She is suddenly arching her back and curling her toes, sweating and crying out in pleasure. Her orgasm hits her like a truck, causing her to convulse around Jack and writhe with the overwhelming feeling of it all. As for her face, her eyes roll back before they flutter shut, her mouth is open, her head tilted back slightly on the pillow, her cheeks flushed a bright shade of red. Y/N looks like the picture of female pleasure.

This doesn’t go unnoticed by Jack, who sees the way she cums for him, sees the way her face looks all because of him, and feels the way her pussy squeezes the life out of his dick. He pumps into her for only a second more before he grunts loudly, driving his cock deep inside her and groaning as he feels himself release.

Y/N sighs as she feels that familiar warmth filling her up deep inside, feeling his cock spasm as he empties his load.

Jack is nearly paralyzed for a moment until he is all done, when he collapses on top of her, his face buried right where Y/N’s neck meets her shoulder. He lets his dick slip out of her as he starts to soften. He places a gentle kiss right where his lips are resting against her skin, and then a slow, quiet groan is heard from deep within his chest.

Y/N smiles and tries to control her breathing. She weakly lifts a hand to stroke his hair and the back of his neck, feeling a small amount of Jack’s nut mixed with her own wetness slowly dripping out of her. She sighs and can’t hold back a little giggle, “So that was good then?”

He just wraps his arms around her tighter and nuzzles his face deeper into her neck as he groans again. Y/N laughs. She uses her free hand to soothingly caress his back, feeling his toned muscles under that lovely skin, “Mmmm I see. You’re speechless.”

Jack chuckles into her neck and gives her another soft kiss there before lifting his head to look down at her. He strokes the hair around her face a bit, “Pretty…”

She smiles, “Good sex too?”

He laughs and hugs her tightly again, returning to his newly declared home nuzzled in her neck. There is a slight pause before Y/N hears and feels a soft voice against her skin, “The best sex.”

She nods with approval and pride in herself, then responds with a whisper, “I love you.”

“I love you. I’m gonna fall asleep here.”

Y/N chuckles and continues to caress him. She was calling him daddy earlier, but normally that melts away and they are just their barest selves after the excitement. She whispers, “Okay then.”

She hears one last little grunt from him and her heart melts as he falls asleep.

[koiiiiijiii]

finishing ur requests? uum no. another idea nobody asked about? yes pls💯💯

wooin x sis!reader (platonic)

author’s note : after last chapter i had this headcanon in my head. i suspect that wooin grew up in toxic household where his parents make him study, locking him up in his room, but boy probably was dreaming about just be free, and once left home. i also suspect his family probably has the same wealth as minu, but his parents way more toxic and controlling. but when he left home he left his part there, the part of his soul.

honesty 1000% in love how some ppl just ignored my closed inbox and keep sent requests🤣🤍🫵🏻 seriously guys, the best!! i will answer all requests, almost all is in process(i mean at least 20-40% already done) but now enjoying my time at home😌💌🔒

warnings : no(?) lil fluff, lil angst, nothing hardcore, prob grammar mistakes(not proofed as all my writings)

༘⋆ wooin is older sibling 100%

༘⋆ when his parents told him he will have a sister, when he was 3 or 4 he was jealous, and whole 9 months he waited for someone who will ruin his life

༘⋆ but instead, when your father brought you and your mum to home from hospital, wooin was confused

༘⋆ he only saw a small girl, no one who could harm him in any way

༘⋆ your first ever smile was for him, or because of him by the way!! and he blushed so so much when your small hand clung to his index finger

༘⋆ so he built a soft spot for you in his heart in two years, because first years you’ve been crying, screaming and sobbing mess, well like all toddlers, while wooin was saying that he was too old to babysit you (bro was like 5-6 years old and crying himself to sleep bc didn’t understand how 10*10 equals 100 and 11*11 didn’t equal 111)

༘⋆ btw you were always silent when he was babysitting you. he chuckled each time when you looked at him with wide open eyes

༘⋆ through his childhood your parents were extremely strict with him, so he partly grateful to you for the fact that you took some attention on yourself and gave him the opportunity to be free from his studies and lectures from your parents for a while

༘⋆ but each year atmosphere in your home becomes more toxic, and when you grow up a little you could remember how wooin was locked in his room to study better, because he didn’t have acceptable marks

༘⋆ but you would always sneak in his room late at night, with your saved from the morning sweets and share some with him

༘⋆ you both favorite was lollipops with lemon favors tho!!

༘⋆ when you were about 13 years old, wooin left the house, he was 17

༘⋆ no need to say that your parents were furious. especially your father. in korea it’s common that son is inherits family business or work, so it’s always been a big scandal over his marks, behavior and look

༘⋆ so when he left, for you it meant that all the attention and rigor of your parents were transferred to you

༘⋆ atter the first couple of months of your brother's absence, he found the strength to meet with you

༘⋆ wooin knew perfectly that parents rage will reflect on you, and honestly he were scared - that you will hate him

༘⋆ when he met you near your school, he froze for few seconds and then hugged you so tight that you thought he was about to break your ribs (you returned him that favor)

༘⋆ you two always were close, wooin was your freshness in a house full of stuffy, stagnant air, while you was his little sunshine of hope and happiness in his dark, locked room

༘⋆ you didn’t have a lot of time after your school, so you just hugged tightly and exchanged phone numbers, so you could stay in touch

༘⋆ few days after you find the way to sneak out of the house to meet with your brother you spend few hours on a bench talking and listening to each other

༘⋆ - how are the relatives? on a scale of one to fucked up, how angry were they?

- fucked up in a cube, you know our dad, he wasn't just furious, from the screams from their room, i think he literally lost his temper

༘⋆ wooin just chuckled sadly and rubbed his neck with the palm of his hand

༘⋆ as the years passed, your nightly meetings continued. sometimes he would catch you after school or another after-school club where your parents had put you

༘⋆ wooin offered you to run away to him several times. by your senior year in school, he was self-supporting, and he even had some white-haired giant working for him, constantly pining after him

༘⋆ somehow you refused, deciding to finish school first and then he promised to help you with either work or university, depends on what you will choose

༘⋆ yes, guys from sabbath know you

༘⋆ yes, heyok once caught you two hugging

*wooin pressed his lips on top of your head, tightly shutting his eyes, frowning a little, he didn’t know when he will see you again, because he knew, in exam session parents won’t let you have a free second*

༘⋆ in first place heyok though you two dating, but then joker explained him how things actually going(my headcanon that they gossip girls, frfr)

༘⋆ since you hanged out with wooin you caught your brother’s manners of jokes

༘⋆ “hey, big bro, does that new red haired guy in your team have a girlfri..”

“don’t you even dare to finish this sentence” he exclaimed indignantly. no way his precious little sis will deal with that motherfucker.

[wonuwrites]

are you still looking for MTL suggestions? how about MTL likely to have the rest of the group scheme to get them a date.

so like Most = the guy with zero rizz. he's shy or awkward or both but he needs all the help he can get. or he's the dummy who doesn't know he's in love. the members all "casually" DM you on the same day to see what you're doing on the day that he has open.

Least = this guy pulls. the members don't even know who he's out with, or if it's the same person every time, just that he's always out. the members trying to get him a date would actually backfire by throwing him off his game. their hijinks would be disastrous and he would be mortified but his blushing is so cute you still agree to a date. this man cannot be stopped.

Always looking MTL suggestions and sooo excited for this LOLOLOL. Thank you for asking for a MTL <3

Warnings: mostly fluffy but def some will be suggestive. *Cough Cough MINGYU Cough Cough*

A/N: I hope I did this the way you wanted if you wanted it to be written. also I'll be adding "songs" I was listening to while writing each of their parts to their name. For example:

Wonwoo (song linked is Message In A Bottle by Taylor Swift)

just doing so bc sharing music is a love language of mine and getting 13 chances to do that is awesome imo <3 LOL

before we begin I do want to say something: I do think all members have a bit of rizz to them. I think if they were presented with an opportunity they would kill it. I mean, they have MILLIONS of people who love them because they are them. The way I wrote this is based on my interpretations on how they've done things with Nana Tour and GoSe episodes. Please note this may differ from what others may see. Please let me know what y'all think after reading it. <3 ok let's start :D

M O S T

✫ Woozi *song note: this song has nothing to do with this one shot but ye*

Jihoon is one of those weird ones where he can charm people like nobody's business but idk I feel like he is really into his work so dating or anything like that is at the bottom of the barrel at the this point. I can see if he were to have a crush on someone, he would love them from afar because he doesn't want to ruin things with you but also not with his work. Due to this thought process is why I have him at first. He would NEED the members to step in because honestly, he could be okay with just loving you from afar. I could see members setting up blind dates for him actually. I could see all 12 of them trying so hard to be a wingman but honestly it was up to him whether or not he would want to have extra commitment at the time or not. Let's say a blind date did happen and you were the apple of his eye and all the members were in on it. I feel like it would be the most adorable yet most awkward date because of nerves and everything like that. He thought you were pretty and tbh, so did you. You thought he was cute as hell (which you are right.) If the date went well, he would def be the one to ask you for a second date and your number if he didn't already have it. <3

✫ Jun *song note: I'm obsessed with this song.*

I was debating on putting Jun and Jihoon at most for the longest time. Like I said in my Authors Note, I do think all of them have some type of rizz or whatever but Jun is one of the more quiet and shy members. The reasons I have him second is because I feel like he would like people that intimidate him at first meeting? haha. According to his K Profile he likes "someone who looks pure. He also likes sexy girls." So take that as you will. Anyways, I feel like he'd be a bit shy if he liked someone at first and would really be in his head about it. The members would literally drag him to your first date and if there was an outing with you they would always make sure you two were near each other. After a few awkward moments of adorable giggles and glances at each other, you both went on a double date with one of the other members (tbh probably Soonyoung or Minghao) and it was at that moment all the anxieties had went out the window. Over time, he became more confident and comfortable with your budding relationship. so sorry this is all jumbled, I had no inspo for this one :(

✫ Seungkwan *song note: the last NCT 127 I genuinely liked :(*

Seungkwan is pretty extroverted but he gets into his head a lot so out of all the members I can actually see him asking one of his hyungs to help him out. LOL. He just trusts his hyungs for the most part and he really wanted to be yours but he was afraid. He would try to act confident at all times but when it came to you he was a shy bean. He would probably have Seokmin or Jeonghan help him out if he were to personally ask for help. ngl, I can also see Mingyu trying to help him out as well but it would be more of a "I want Boo Seungkwan to be happy and I'm tired of him not making a move." After the guys planned a date for y'all, similarly to Jun his anxieties lightened up. He was enchanted for this moment and he was hoping you were also enchanted.

✫ S Coups *song name: this was high school and i miss hearing it on the bus*

Look, Seungcheol has got rizz, we all know this. HEAR ME OUT THO. There was a thing I saw a few weeks ago where he said he was sad because one day he would break million of carats hearts when he gets married which :') (PRECIOUS.) So because of this I feel like that's his mentality right now where he doesn't want to hurt anyone plus his main focus is Seventeen. I feel like he'd be the member where if he had a crush on you, he rather admire from a distant instead of hurting you because idol life and fear of what dating news would be like. I feel like Seventeen would hate seeing him hurt himself in process of trying not to hurt you but they could see his unintentional cold shoulder to you would be killing you inside. One day, Joshua couldn't handle it anymore and just texted both of you to meet at a restaurant to meet up and just see how things go. Which it did as everyone but you two assumed would. help this gives me a one shot idea. if someone wants it pls let me know xo

✫ Hoshi *song note: ngl I might make a oneshot with Soonyoung with this song in future*

Soonyoung is such a wild card so I put him in a category of "could go either way" along with Minghao and Wonwoo. With Soonyoung I feel like he is someone that would not have trouble in dating or getting numbers but I also know he is a bit more shy and reserved around others that he doesn't know so he wouldn't mind if other members got involved. I feel like he'd be more chill about their help then Wonwoo and Minghao. I think it wouldn't even matter which member or members were to help him out. He'd just be grateful for the support from them. If it was from members, it would mostly be a blind date where neither of you really knew each other but if you were friends with one of the members already he'd be a bit more comfortable. If your date was because of him, expect a very blushy Soonyoung who would be smiley the whole time because someone as special as you agreed to spend a few hours with someone like him.

✫ Minghao *song note: this is my fave song atm*

Minghao like I said in Soonyoung's part is part of my "it could go either way" line. I feel like unlike Soonyoung it would matter who helped him out because I feel like he'd ask for advice from the older members or the 97 line on what he should do. I feel like he would want to pursue you but he would be nervous about rejection which... who in their right mind would ever reject him?! Anyways, that would be why he would go seeking for help. I feel like once he got over that hurdle of self doubt and lands a date with you with the help of Jun he would be such a gentleman and you would wonder how in the world you were able to meet someone as amazing as Xu Minghao.

✫ Wonwoo

The final member of the "it could go either way" is the handsome as HELL member Jeon Wonwoo. (yes they are all handsome as hell but I am so whipped for him it's not okay.) With Wonwoo, I feel like he would admire from afar for a while and debate on if he would want to pursue someone or not. From what I've read online, it takes him awhile to get used to people which is why it would take him a month or so to see what he wants. Which is why his members would get involved. Some members, ie Hip Hop Unit (especially Seungcheol) might get impatient with is prolonged plan and would message you and invite you to an event with them. While at the event, they would try to subtly make sure that you both were near each other the whole time. I can see Seungcheol smirking if you both started to talk throughout the night and ignoring everyone else in the process. Mission accomplished.

me after i saw this gif

✫ Jeonghan *song note: I'm not even sorry about this song. it's a bop*

Now we are getting into the "members that don't need help" category. I feel like it is perfect to start it off with Yoon Jeonghan. Jeonghan has such a loving personality and has rizz that makes anyone blush. Don't believe me? Watch him with Hyungwon from Monsta X LMAOOOOO Anyways, I feel like if he likes you he would tease you like a school yard kid. Some might find it strange but it would win you over and have you tease him back as well. Bottom line you both would be leaving said conversations with new phone numbers in your phone afterwards.

✫ Joshua *song note: Help this song just gave me inspo for a Joshua one shot o.o*

Hong Jisoo is such a flirt, if you don't agree you can argue with the freaking wall. He would have you kicking your feet by just saying hello LMAO. He might act shy but we know homie is an extrovert and honestly I could see him pulling an Ariana Grande with you. "I see it, I want it, I got it." but of course make it *gentleman-y* He would come up to you first and would ask you questions and would just have you smiling and honestly as would you. Anyone looking would have thought y'all have known each other forever.

✫ Vernon *song note: this song is song of all songs*

Hansol doesn't need ANY help when it comes to dating but he's similar to Wonwoo where he is very selective to who he dates. He's the type of guy if he likes somebody, he will tell them or just pursue him. I can see him being one of the most casual members when it comes to asking you to go on a date or to be his. He'd ask you what you like to do and then would say something along the lines, "oh cool, would you like to do that sometime with me?" He would be all smiles if you said sure and honestly, it would surprise some of his members how good he was at getting dates. But then again, they all were obsessed with his charms as well so????

✫ Dokyeom *song note: hot people are swarats. (Swifite x Carats)*

For the final three we are in the "they def fuck" category LOL. I know Seokmin seems like a wild card pick but hear me out. I feel like even though he is introverted, he is also outgoing and not afraid to make connections. Plus he is part of the 97 group chat and idk to me the majority of that line just drip with rizz and able to get dates. I feel like Seokmin is similar to Jeonghan where his loving personality and just how he is makes people swoon. At first you were hesitant when you first became acquainted with him. You thought he was too good to be true. When you told him that, he would be taken aback and do everything in his power to show you that he was serious about you. idk how i feel about this one, I might come back and rewrite this or do a drabble later

✫ Dino *song note: this is my husband. yes he makes baby making music.*

pls don't tell him wait~~ sorry. anywhore. LEE CHAN fucks but also is a lover boy. I could end it there but that would be boring and Dinonara's deserve better. To be fair, if it wasn't for Wait he would not have been this low but Wait was just wow. Chan just has an aura where he would be such a tease to his significant other or his future partner. I can see him being a mashup of Mingyu, Jeonghan, and Joshua. He would be such an annoying flirt and would laugh or smirk if it made you flustered. Even if it came of cocky, it worked pretty well on his behalf. His members still would tease him regardless of the outcome too.

✫ Mingyu *Song Note: :) :) :) I love this song*

Kim Mingyu. This man fucks and it's delulu to think he does not. It's honestly weird when I think about Mingyu. I mean this respectfully when I say he gives such fuck boy x house husband vibes and sometimes it pisses me off. That's an aries for you tho. LMAO. Anyways, it's almost impossible to not fall in love with Mingyu. Not only is he super attractive but he also is just genuinely so nice which is why he would not struggle. Even if it is easy for him, if he was with you. He was with. you. He would be so down bad and would constantly compliment, flirt, and just love you. It would be as simple as basic math to him.

this took so much longer than I thought it would. I hope I did it the way you wanted me too <33

[callme-darling]

Imagine angry Vincent who comes home in a mood maybe bc the prosecution had some sort of upper hand so now he's fuming, but you're there at home and you let him take it out on you. Safe to say your neighbors will be complaining about it tomorrow

anger’s best swallowed whole

word count: ~550

warnings: fem reader, oral (fem receiving, not explicit), teasing, degradation (“slut”), praise, kinda mean sex, could possibly be considered dubcon

a/n: idk what this says abt me, but usually composed men getting angry/frustrated is SO hot to me

ok but i can definitely see vincent being the type to wanna relax and de-stress between your thighs😮‍💨 like he’d stay there for hours if you’d let him. he’d be obsessed with the way your thighs shake around his head, your fingers pulling on his hair like a silent plea for him to slow down. but he’s deaf to it all. his large palms would sit on your hips and thighs, pulling you closer to his mouth with a low groan when you try to push away. he’d stay there til you were crying, chest heaving as you cover your mouth with a weak hand in an attempt to quiet yourself. only then would he release you with an all-too-sweet kiss to your sore clit.

or he’d come home to find you in the kitchen, cleaning and tidying like you normally do to unwind for the weekend. he’d skip the usual greeting routine and just toss his jacket and files on a dining chair, his body already pressed up against yours when you turn to welcome him home. his mouth would be on yours before you could even attempt to get a word out. where vincent is usually sweet in such moments, his characteristic tenderness is nowhere to be found. instead, an intensity lurks under the surface, and the way his fingers grip and grope your skin has your panties ruined almost instantly. just like that, you’re rendered nothing but compliant and docile, ready to take whatever he’ll give you.

and oh, i just know he’d say the nastiest things when he’s in these rare moods. the filter that usually controls his filthy mind is gone. his voice would be almost unrecognizable. that harsh, gravelly octave that has your breath catching and skin on fire. “i’m gonna ruin you, and you’re gonna be a good girl and take it, right?” and he’d be so uncharacteristically mean, finally allowing the stress from the day to manifest itself into the filthiest of degradation-mixed-praise and teasing. “that’s my good little slut”, “such a pretty, needy little thing for me, aren’t you, sweet girl?”

while he wouldn’t be too rough with you physically, he’d let his hands wander with a primal-like grip as he drags your body down the mattress. he’d wrap his long fingers around your neck, squeezing the sides of your throat as you moan loudly. “shhh…” he’d whisper harshly into your ear, “they don’t fucking deserve to hear how good you feel.” and you’d clench around his length, pulling a hiss from his teeth. “fuck, such a perfect little cunt.”

mean vincent would be a rarity, but after all was said and done, he’d be coming back to his usual collected self. he’d be quieter than normal as he cleans you up and tucks your hair behind your ear, but the tenderness is there. he’d whisper a gentle apology to your temple and rub soothing circles over your back and shoulders. his lips would trail soft kisses across your face, his familiar cheeky grin peeking through. “i love you, darling. thank you for loving me.”

[aliaology]

HOUSE THAT BUILT ME

summary: reader (older hughes sister) takes a small flight to toronto to say goodbye to the home she grew up in before moving to michigan.

pairings: hughes brothers x older sister!reader

warnings: just angst. part three of my older hughes! sister au so it kinda contradicts never grow up bc i almost made the michigan house be her childhood house with the childhood room line, but the toronto house was her childhood house, i just lowkey forgot they lived in toronto in the first part.

you didn't expect to be here. you didn't expect yourself to take a last minute flight to toronto and stand in the front of the house you used to call home. but you felt drawn to do so, you had to come back one last time. even if people told you you couldn't, you still did.

you felt yourself walking up the stairs. your handprints littered them, along with little quinnys, little jackys, and little little lukeys. the multi-colored handprints were a stark contrast to the white, chipped paint of the porch stairs.

they creaked under you, causing you to step slower. you now stood in front of the screen door that covered the red door. your hand shakily reached up to the doorbell, pressing it. the all-familiar tune played. it wasn't a normal 'ding!' no, your mother made it ring to a beat. one you would tap your foot to every time it was rung.

the door creaked open, revealing a slightly older woman. "can i help you?" she asked, eyes squinted from the sun.

"im so sorry to bother you, i know you dont know me but, i um- i used to live here." you awkwardly laughed. "me and my brothers are actually the kids who did those handprints on the stairs." you informed.

she opened the screen door, stepping out. she had a soft smile on her face and waved you over to the small swing that was on the porch.

you two ended up sitting and talking. "the back bedroom, that was mine. i did my homework on a dainty desk and that room is where i learned to play guitar." you spoke.

a fond smile was on the womans face. "i've never once changed anything in this house since me and my family moved here." she told.

"i couldnt. i actually hoped one of the kids who did those handprints would show up. i like learning of what this place used to be. plus, whoever did that kitchen was amazing." she chuckled.

"my dad helped my mom do that. it was a dream kitchen for her. he helped a lot of her dreams come true with this house." you said.

you looked over the property. the green grass, the live oak, the trees that surrounded the house. you looked back at her.

"do you- do you think i could come in? i just want to look around. i swear as soon as im done, ill leave. i wont take nothing, just my memories." you smiled.

she let you. you found yourself tracing the walls as you walked upstairs. the same texture was there as it used to be. the steps still creaked twice with every step. the air was still cold, as it used to be.

you walked into your old room. the walls were still the dark purple they used to be. it made you remember who you used to be. the happy-go-lucky little girl whos only care in the world were her three younger brothers.

you weren't done looking around, but you already dreaded the idea of leaving. leaving home wasn't what you wanted to do. doing it once was hard enough. you could see yourself, your younger self, sitting at her desk.

feet kicking with a pencil in her hand as she hummed to some random song that she heard on the tv. she would smile every once in awhile as she did her math homework, realizing she understood something.

you could see young jack running in, a water gun in his hand, and shooting you with it, ruining your mood and your homework. you could see little luke rushing in behind him, tackling jack to the ground. little quinn would pin jack down and little you would tickle him as payback. luke and quinn were your little sidekicks.

after awhile, you walked back to the porch. "thank you again, ma'am. this meant a lot to me. it helped being able to see and feel the house again." you told her.

she smiled. "of course dear." you gave her a polite nod and walked down the handprint-filled stairs. you got to see the house that built you, and instead of leaving with tears, you left with a small smile.

tags (perm); @slaythehousebootsdown13 , @um-mads , @outrunangelss

[en-gelic]

—✮ kiss and make up - s.jaeyun

🖇️contents. richkid!jake x richkid!f.reader, situationship, fluff

@ warnings. petnames, suggestive, kisses, cheating (?), injuries, mentions of death. lmk if i missed anything!

💭featuring. haechan (nct), karina (aespa) + the rest of the enha members.

# ; taglist. @i57berry @cholexc (open - send an ask or comment to be tagged on all my works !)

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 extras. for my bby @i57berry bcs we both need this ><! wc.2.8k PROOFREAD 𓍯 library ๋࣭ ⭑

I - HE CHEATED, BUT HE DIDNT ?!

The teacher’s voice died out as you zoned out, remembering her hand in his hair and his hand on her waist. You were pissed for no reason, because after all, it was just a fling. A fling you’d eventually forget about after you graduated in a month. The bell ringing brought you back to reality as students bustled with energy, each talking over one another. You sighed again, leaning your head against your arm, looking at the weather that was gradually getting warmer as spring blossomed at its own pace. The scraping of chairs beside you ended your daze as you turned to your friends, Haechan and Karina, who were now surrounded by your chair, forming a semicircle around you. Each with their own personality, you listened as they talked over each other, more or less asking the same question.

“Does he know you know?”

“Does he think you don’t have eyes?”

Clearly, the former was said by Karina and the latter was by Haechan. “I don’t know.” You replied dully, trying to reassure your friends before they started doing something out of hand. You barely got your second sentence out, before two veiny hands slammed themselves on your desk. Trailing up his arm, you met his serious look. Sim Jaeyun (or Jake as he liked to call himself), the topic of your conversation.

“Come with me.” He said gruffly. Before you could reply, Haechan had already spoke for you.

“Ask politely, Jakey boy or she’s not going.” Your head shot in his direction, trying to tell him to shut up before he ruins everything. At hearing the nickname he hated the most, he glared at Haechan, a sardonic smile playing on his lips.

“Come with me, please.” He teased, causing the other boy to move abruptly out of his chair. Both you and Karina, put your hands on his shoulders which he shrugged off, sitting back down in between the two of you girl. You exchanged a look with Karina as you both held back your laughter at his temper. Moving your head to look back at the boy he seemed pleased with himself for irritating Haechan, you imitated his sardonic smile before replying, “I’ll go with you.”

Standing up, you caught your friend’s looks from the corner of your eye. Haechan’s was a look of pure horror, as if he had just seen a ghost. He opened his mouth to protest but was quickly blocked by Karina’s hand, as she gave you a small smile that meant ‘good luck’. As you followed the boy out of the loud classroom, you wondered whether he knew what he saw him do. You kept reminding yourself that it was just a fling and that it meant nothing even if he was kissing another girl.

Leading you to an empty classroom, you walked in as he closed the door behind you. At least even if he was a cheater (not really), he still had basic chivalry. In a flash, you were pinned against the wall, his lips pressed against yours. You overcame the initial shock, quickly reciprocating his action, only stopping once his hand began exploring your torso. You took it, pulling him so your positions were swapped, and you were pinning him against the wall. He looked down at you and you cursed your height mentally for making this less intimidating than it was supposed to be.

“Do you have something you want to say to me?” You asked, using one useful rule your parents taught you. Well, they didn’t teach you directly, but you heard from their arguments that you should give the person time to think about what they’ve done before having a go at them. It was mainly used by your mother and had succeeded in saving your father when he had done something he was unaware of. You felt like melting under his stare, but having been taught to compose yourself always, you didn’t falter as he straightened up, causing your hand to lose its place on the wall.

“What have I done?” He hummed in teasing way, pretending to think. “Is it because I pissed your little friend off? Or because I slammed my hands on your desk? Or…” He teased you again, smiling with obvious arrogance. “Or are you jealous because she had her hands in my hair instead of yours?” You struggled to try and defend yourself against his tactics.

His smile deepened into a boyish grin, knowing he caught your weak point. He shook your hand off his wrist and brought it to squish your face. “I made my pretty baby jealous,” he fake-pouted. “Do you want a gift as a sorry?” Contemplating if it was a trick question, you didn’t answer, reading his next move. In an instant, you flipped back to your previous position, your back pushed against the wall as you felt your tie loosen and the buttons on your shirt open. Later, his actions caused a trail of hickeys down your neck that horrified your friends as they helped you apply concealer over it before going to academy. If you were going anywhere else, you wouldn’t have worried about whether your hickeys were peaking above your shirt or not, but due to your parent’s overprotectiveness, your mother’s best friend was teaching there to keep an eye on you.

“I don’t understand why you just keep going back to him when he clearly isn’t going to be committed.” Haechan complained as you three made your way to academy. Karina wasn’t the least bit worried about where you got your hickey’s from, all she worried about was them showing as she lathered more concealer on your neck.

“What would you know about commitment, Haechan, judging by the fact that you just broke up with your girlfriend because you found someone prettier.” You deadpanned, watching him go silent in realization.

“That’s because I was worried about emotionally cheating on her, so I saved her from the pain. Unlike you, who still goes back to him even after he ‘cheats’ on you and says sorry by leaving massive hickeys on your neck.” He defended, opening the door to the academy, waiting for the two of you to enter.

You sighed, walking in and organizing your tie. “I wish you were more like Karina.” Watching Haechan’s horror as he acted offended and scoffed at your sentence. You turned in Karina’s direction, flinging your arms around her. “I wish there were two of you.” You added dramatically. Karina laughed at the two of you, watching as Haechan flung his arm around your shoulders, dragging all three of you by his weight. You stumbled together in a mix of arms and legs as your laughter saturated the hallways.

II - NEVER TRUST A BASKETBALL PLAYER !!

You sat watching the repetitive cycle of Haechan promising that he would get in the next shot. He wasn’t supposed to be doing that in the first place. Karina, who claimed she loved you, had told the school’s basketball coach that the three of you would clean up the basketball court before the last school basketball game for the 3rd years — Only 2 more weeks until graduation. The only issue with that is the fact that you and Jake were supposed to go on a date which he had directly asked you to, two nights before you were forced to clean a basketball court.

“This is for you.” Haechan said, flirtatiously winking at you before missing the hoop horribly again.

“Even I could do a better job.” You commented, taking the ball away from him. As usual, he threw a bit of a tantrum, which caused you to give it back to him, resulting in his mock sadness sprouting into glee again. This was really not the way you intended to spend your Friday evening. You sighed for the nth time and began cleaning the seats. In between the two places for seating, you tripped on the corner of the baluster, resulting in you getting a cut on your knee. You sighed again, the evening getting progressively worse. Luckily you could escape some cleaning torture for about an hour or two before they notice your disappearance. You quietly excused yourself, slipping out of the court and walking to the nurse’s office.

You took a seat on of the beds as a male nurse came to treat you. There were never any male nurses in your school though. It was too late in the evening for the head nurse to be there, so you had a reason not to question it. He was wearing a mask, but he looked and acted oddly familiar, the way he treated your knee with gentleness as he applied disinfectant on it. You could tell he was a novice by the way he was pulling a face as he wiped the blood away from your knee. You watched as he put on a very girly and unprofessional Hello Kitty band aid on your knee. He removed his mask, revealing his face as the one you were supposed to meet before you got involuntarily chained to the chore of cleaning. He leant down and pressed a kiss on your wound, now covered completely by the pink bandage.

“Jake?” You asked, in utter confusion as to why he was here instead of waiting at the spot you were supposed to meet up at.

“You stood me up, your highness.” He added emphasis to the nickname since he was kneeling down in front of you. You remembered now that you didn’t really give him a reason on why you can’t come.

“But what are you doing here then?” You felt his hand move slightly over your knee, as he moved to sit on the bed next to you.

“I heard my pretty girl was hurt and I came to fix her.” He teased, brushing your hair from your shoulders, making a small sound of disapproval.

“Thank you, Doc Mcstuffins for fixing my wound with your novice skills.” You teased back.

“Your hickeys are gone.” He stated abruptly. You pulled a face at his tone, wondering why he sounded so sad about.

“Those hickeys would have killed me if my parents found out.” “But they were to show everyone that you’re my girl.” Your heart skipped a beat at his sudden use of affection, until you noticed his hand that was sliding up your thigh.

You caught it before it could go under your skirt, cursing yourself for even wearing a skirt and forgetting that Jake could have very well seen everything. You could tell what he was about to do, even before he started moving and you blocked his lips before it resulted in a horrifying trail of large hickeys.

“Don’t ruin my neck. I’m going to an event tomorrow evening and I don’t need my makeup artist asking me questions and reporting it to my parents.” You told him as a warning. He didn’t nod like any normal person would. Instead, he licked your fingers as a sign of agreement. You pulled a face and instantly retracted your hand, about to throw a string of curse words in his direction until his lips collided with yours, a familiar feeling you had grown accustomed to for more than a month. He moved from your lips to your neck as he unbuttoned the top buttons of your shirt, getting ready to leave a hickey in the most ‘discreet’ place. He stopped abruptly at hearing a sting of “ew’s” and “ugh’s” as your friends, who just realized your disappearance and came to look for you. You could admit that you were pissed that they ruined the moment, but it was better than bribing your makeup artist with money. Jake looked more irritated than you.

“What are you guys doing here too?” He asked, his voice clearly masking disappointment. He buttoned up your shirt and moved a bit farther from you.

“We were supposed to be cleaning the basketball court together, until she went to go have a secret rendezvous with you.” Haechan added circling the three of you.

“You weren’t even cleaning.” Karina directed to Haechan, moving to leave the room as the said boy looked at her in disbelief.

You turned back to Jake. He was smiling, but less pissed than before. He placed a peck on your lips before saying, “Wish me good luck for my game tomorrow, pretty girl.” Before walking past Haechan and throwing the middle finger in his direction.

“I hate you guys.” Haechan said, before walking to examine your cut.

III - BYE BYE LOSERS !!!

It was finally the day of graduation. You had spent the evening before at Haechan’s house, giggling with the two of them about how university was going to be and where they should go on their trip to celebrate finishing school. It was so weird how 12 years felt so long, but short at the same time. Long in the sense that it felt like it dragged on every year, especially since it gradually got harder like questions in a math test, but short now that you remembered everything that happened in those years and how you wanted to go back in time to start again. Clearly, you wouldn’t if you actually had the chance, but just for the sentiment. The night was longer than anything. The only thing that would get you to sleep was playing white noise in the background.

When the morning finally did come, the house was noisier than ever. Not only were the three of you crying every two seconds, but makeup artists and hair stylists streamed in and out of the rooms, looking for missing brushes, hair curlers and hair straighteners, thoroughly irritated with the way the tears endlessly spilled down the freshly put eye liner. It took all three of your parents to come in and distract you guys to stop you from crying. You each decided to wear your school uniforms for the last time before they began collecting dust.

The graduation ceremony was longer than expected, causing your mind to wander in thoughts of him. You saw him with his friends, much farther from where you were sitting causing you to struggle to look at his face. You had barely gotten to exchange words that morning since everyone was rushing to the ceremony, which dragged on as the principal gave a speech on how youth is just a moment in time and other things he thought would invoke tears to the students who just wanted to leave. You watched as they called out each and every one of your names.

You wouldn’t cry. You never cry in public. You reminded yourself over and over again as the ceremony came to an end.

You dawdled around taking photos with your friends, teachers and parents, not caring about how the photos turned out. You just wanted to see him. The day was ending rapidly, and every second seemed to speed up as it was almost time for you to leave the school for good. You excused yourself by saying you wanted to take one last look at the school before leaving and you hovered alone around the empty outdoors, looking for any sign of him. He wasn’t just a fling you had finally admitted to yourself after months of battling over it. You stalked around slowly, looking down at the ground, trying to bite back tears of the memories you spent making chaos in the school. A tear barely rolled down your cheeks before you felt light flower petals falling over you. You looked up and saw a glimpse of one of Jake’s friends sprinkling them on the school grounds, along with a letter you caught without difficulty. You knew it was from him by the handwriting on the front of the letter. To your surprise it was a love letter. As most of it was written in English except for a very messy looking ‘I like you’ in Korean, you finally put some of the knowledge from school to use as you read the letter, smiling at his bashfulness in his writing. You looked up, your smile obvious as you found him smiling back down at you.

“Your confession was lame, you loser.” You teased, watching as he jokingly acted offended.

“I take it back. I don’t like you anymore.” He puffed, pretending to be irritated at you.

“Fine. I like you too.” You watched his fake pout turn into an instant beam. “Although, I don’t want to catch you kissing other girls and apologizing with hickeys.” You warned, walking up to where he was standing. He instantly engulfed you in a hug, continuously repeating how much he liked you and promising that he’d never cheat on you. Later, the two of you walked through the school grounds hand-in-hand, slowly remembering your first time you saw him. As you exited the school grounds, you turned back, pulling a face at the school, even though no one could see you.

Bye-bye losers, you thought, letting go of Jake’s hand and running off ahead of him, the boy instantly reciprocating your action.

© en-gelic 2024.

[kylelovskii]

idk but now that kyle finally asked reader to be his gf, what if they were just hanging out and stuff so then kyle leaves to go do something but ends up coming back and sees reader masturbating and theyre just like a total hot mess on his bed waiting for him… just a thought bc im feeling pretty freaky atm LOL i need kyle hes such a meanie

-❤️ anon

been a while.. :3

i’ve missed writing about mean kyle, so let’s do this! 😈

the fuck do you think you’re doing?

“hey, baby, i’m gonna get some snacks for movie night, okay?” kyle told you, cupping your plush cheeks and kissing your forehead.

“okay..” you respond, closing your eyes as he plants his lips on your temple. you watched as he walked away. his white wife beater hugging him perfectly, and the way his basketball shorts hung perfectly around his waist. you’d been so desperate for him the entire day, but still so shy to even say anything. despite all the change, that old, shy, innocent (y/n) was still down there.

he shut the bedroom door behind him as he waltzed out. you knew he’d be gone for a bit. he usually likes to cook something up for the two of you on movie nights, then have extra snacks on the side. what to do with all this time?

who’s to say you couldn’t rub one out real quick? if he didn’t catch you, no harm no foul, right?

and with that last thought, you sunk more into his bed, reaching your hand down your baggy pajama pants. you pushed one finger between your folds, already so slick from just the mere sight of kyle a few moments prior. you massage the bundle of nerves between the pudge of your pussy, then push your middle finger into your hole.

you sigh at the relief you’ve been craving for the past 4 hours. sure, it wasn’t as good as kyle’s fingers, but it got the job done.

you add another finger, speeding up to make this process go faster so kyle wouldn’t catch you. kyle’s rule was, and i quote: “if i ever catch your fucking your self without my permission, you’ll be in a world of hurt, you get me?”

and you did get him, you just didn’t want to burden him when he probably didn’t feel like it. besides, it’s movie night, and why would you ruin that?

you were on the edge, so caught up in the release you were about to get, that you didn’t hear the bedroom door swing open. so caught up in how good you felt that you didn’t hear him yelling at you.

“hey! what the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

you yelped, scrambling up against the headboard, staring at kyle, horrified.

“who said you could do that, huh?” he spat, slowly walking over to you, his fists clenched.

“wait— i’m sorry! i didn’t want to bother you, and—” you were cut off by the painful sting in your scalp when he grabbed your hair, pulling your face up to his. “don’t be fucking stupid. get up, strip.”

you were quite terrified to say the least, so you quickly got up and stepped back away from your fuming boyfriend. you took off your t-shirt, then your pajama pants. you stood there, half naked, staring at him.

“why are you looking at me like you can’t understand english? i said strip.”

oh. he wanted you naked naked. okay. you brought the straps of your bra down, your perky tits bouncing out. you then pulled the pink cotton panties off your waist and kicked them to the side.

“you wanna get fucked so bad? then you’ll get fucked. lay down,” he ordered, pointing to the bed. you whined and climbed on the bed, laying down, vulnerable for him.

he tugged off his shirt, then took off his silky basketball shorts and threw them in a laundry basket along with his boxers.

“i think you’ve had enough prep, yeah? being greedy all alone in here, not even bothering to ask me. you know the rules, don’t cha?” he asked, smooshing your face together with one hand, stroking his cock with the other. “answer me, bitch.”

“yes! yes i remember! i’m sorry, ky— please!” then you felt a sharp pain against your face. “i don’t care if you’re sorry. you broke a rule, and now you’ll get punished. nothing has changed,” he forcefully explained before shoving his dick inside you. you cried out which turned into a long whine.

“aw, yeah? see? your fucking fingers can’t do this, only i can.” he reached his hand up and held your neck tightly, but not tight enough to stop your breathing. he pounded into you, harder and faster with each thrust.

“hah— ky! i’m gonna— you’re—” you tried to speak, but he was fucking you so good you couldn’t even form a sentence. “no you’re not. not until i do. you don’t deserve it.”

he slid his hand up, prying your mouth open more with his thumb, and with that a small fetching noise came from his throat before he spit in your mouth. “swallow,” he demanded, and you did.

each time his cock went back inside your cunt, it only pushed you more to the edge. you didn’t know how much longer you could hold out, but then you heard a high pitched groan come out of kyle’s mouth and then a warm sensation shoot inside you. that did it for you and you hit your high, legs shaking, locking them around kyle’s waist to make them stop.

but he kept going.

“stop! stopstopstop! kyle— please, wait—” he covered your mouth with his hand to shut you up, which didn’t really work, but you stopped talking at least. “what’s wrong? can’t take it? this is what you’ve been so desperate for, right? so you will take it. shut up and take it.”

orgasm after orgasm, kyle finally let up and pulled out, but he hadn’t cum yet. he inched up near your face, took off his glasses, and shoved them on your face. lean leaned his head back, stroking his cock until he came all over your face, recreating the scene that happened at cartman’s house many moons ago.

he let out a guttural moan as he did so, sighing when he finally came down from his high.

“go..go clean up,” he slurred, flopping down next to you as you looked at him confused. “you’re not gonna help?”

“no. you’ve been a bad girl. besides, i cooked. that’s enough of caring for one night. and clean my glasses too!” he shouted after you as you walked into the bathroom connected to his room.

kyle always took care of you, but bad girls know how to take care of themselves, right?

[feralforfrank]

THE BEACH DISASTER.

BRADLEY "ROOSTER" BRADSHAW X FEM!READER

summary it's volleyball saturday, and you desperately need to relax and forget about rooster. but he has other plans, which end up with you sharing more than you should.

cw MORE ANGST AHAHAHA, reader being really sad, rooster almost saying the s-word to reader...ALSO, me using that one amy march quote bc i love it (idk if anyone will notice it lol). NON-DESCRIPTIVE READER. TELL ME IF I MISSED ANYTHING.

a/n WAKE UP PART TWO IS POSTED!!! i managed to write 2,1k words... be proud, i've never done this before. i dont like this part as much as the first one, but a LOT of people wanted me to do a part two, so here you go!!!

masterlist | taglist

When you returned to base, your movements were quicker than in the air. You brushed your hair and teeth, changed into a sweatshirt, and ducked under the covers. You were probably the only young person on this base, for all your fellow pilots were getting drunk on the Hard Deck or some other bar.

The tears fell as soon as your head hit the pillow. Fuck him, fuck her, fuck everyone! You couldn't believe you would ever sob over Bradley Bradshaw, but here you were, under your blanket, wiping your snot and tears with the sleeve of your sweatshirt.

You knew you'd eventually have to bounce back. Rooster was never yours, to begin with. There was no reason to be crying over someone who had done nothing but absolutely hate and offend you. You shouldn't let a man affect your job or your life. Especially a Navy man. You could find a hundred more like him.

But you didn't want a hundred more Bradley Bradshaws. You wanted the original, the man who, despite making fun of your piloting abilities, was good company when he wanted to. The amusing, talented, tall man with the pornstache you'd tried to shave once while he was napping.

Is he even thinking about me right now? Probably not. He has that pretty girl hanging off his arm, laughing at his jokes, stroking his arm and looking flawless. They're likely by the pool table—Rooster's beating Hangman at a game, and she's cheering for him, handing him his bear every time he scores.

The detailed thought of him, her and your friends makes your heart clench painfully. Tomorrow's Volleyball Saturday, but you don't have the energy or desire to play. You promised Phoenix and Halo to be there so you have to go, but if Rooster brings his new girlfriend, you'll have to bail. You can't stand to see them together again.

Your skull throbs and your eyes burn with new unshed tears. You bet Maria looks striking in a bikini, skin glowing, no stretch marks, and a perfectly flat stomach. She's the perfect girl for him.

God, you need to stop. You need to stop thinking about her. And him—especially him—or you will lose your fucking mind.

You shut your eyes, waiting for a dreamless sleep to consume you. Today has been wild, and fuck Rooster Bradshaw for ruining a perfect evening.

—

You shut your car door after grabbing the cooler stuffed with beers and your bag, wiping the sweat off the top of your brow. You start to make your way down to the beach when you hear a voice call you from behind you.

Jake's walking toward you with a cocky smirk, but today, you don't find the energy to muster up a comment to mock him. You only smile and wait for him. He's holding his own cooler, probably filled to the brim with beers, just like yours.

"You look like shit," is the first thing he says.

You snort. If only you knew, Seresin. "Thanks, you too!"

"Are you ready to get your ass kicked today?" You actually laugh at that.

"In your dreams, Hangman. I'm the best player there is. Just admit your loss already."

It's his turn to laugh. "I thought you liked seeing us naked—' specially me. I've seen the heart eyes you throw my way, Swift."

Seresin wiggles his eyebrows in suggestion, and neither can stop your laughing as you descend down the beach. It felt good to laugh and forget about your current problem—who was a few feet away—for a second.

Once you put your things down, you look toward your friends. They are around the net, likely discussing who'll be on whose team. Hangman is taking his shirt off right next to you, but you pretend not to notice, even though your cheeks burn. Damn every single Navy guy for having such great bodies.

Your eyes look for Rooster subconsciously. Since they're all huddled together, it's hard to spot him at first. But once you find him, you can't look away. He ditched the Hawaiian shirt today, but he's wearing swim trunks and aviators. His skin is shining from the angle the sun hits him, and you nearly drool.

Too bad he's not yours. You sigh at the thought and look away. Your mind could be such a cruel place sometimes. Especially when thinking about Bradley.

"Okay, I'm ready. Are we going or what?" You heard Jake ask.

"Oh no, I'm not playing today, Seresin. I'll gladly sit back and enjoy the show, though."

His smile slightly faltered. "Sure, whatever you want. I'm not going to be the one getting my ass beat by Nix for missing out."

You laughed. "Don't look at my abs too long. Rooster will get jealous!"

And without further explaining, Hangman was running towards the squadron, leaving you with your mouth hung open in shock and cheeks bright red.

You sat down on a beach chair, somewhat focusing on their game. Sure, shirtless and sweaty Navy pilots were a magnificent sight, but Jake's words lingered.

Did he know you liked Rooster? Not a chance since the only person who knew was Nix. So why had he said that? Had Rooster said something to him? Or did he set this up—another cruel move, as if yesterday wasn't enough?

With your head between your tucked on your resting elbows, you let your racing thoughts run around and wreak havoc in your already exhausted brain—occasionally cheering. They consisted of Bradley and your job, the Navy in general, and your friends, Bradley. You hadn't noticed someone sitting next to you until they were speaking.

"Are you okay there, sweetheart?" God, you hated that fucking nickname. And he knew it.

You exhale and look to your left. Rooster's sitting on the chair five feet away from you, and you muster up the courage to look him in the eyes.

"Why do you care, Bradshaw?"

Your tone is harsh, but your heart warms that he cares to know what's bothering you.

"Well, the game's just not the same without your annoying screeches of joy when you score a point. Plus, Nix told me to check up on you." Oh, so he came because he had to.

"You can go. I don't need a babysitter."

"Why so rude, Swift? Someone hurt you?" The sentiment behind that sentence is hidden almost too perfectly. But you notice how his eyes soften, and his frown is deeper. You want to slap yourself for thinking that he cares.

"Maybe someone did. Will you please just leave me alone now?"

You've turned your head away from him now. Flashes of last night burn in front of your eyes, and you feel them brim with tears. Rooster can't see this. He can't see you crying.

"You know what? I came here to apologise. I know we're like-like sworn enemies, but I saw how...How pissed off you looked," yeah pissed off would be an understatement, "when I kissed Maria. I lead her on just to get on your nerves, but I shouldn't have pushed it that far—"

"Doesn't sound like a me problem, Rooster. I'm not Maria." You cut him off and get up, not wanting to hear him speak about this again. But of course, he does.

"I shouldn't have pulled that stunt, but you shouldn't have done that whole thing with Jake!" He's angry, you notice.

"What fucking stunt, Rooster? We're not a couple, for fuck's sake! As you said, we're enemies, and I can do whatever I want," you speak as you move your bears from your mini-fridge to another half-empty cooler.

You try so hard not to let your lips quiver. The words coming out of your mouth hurt because you wish they were true. You wish he'd see that there's no other man but him, that you don't want to be his rival anymore. Instead, here you are, fighting.

You place your phone in the back pocket of your shorts and grab the cooler, wanting nothing but to leave this conversation. Your destination was your car—so you could put the freezer in it. But Rooster had other plans.

"Didn't seem like it when you left the bar crying yesterday. All that because I kissed another girl. You hate me, my ass!"

You roll your eyes and continue walking, ignoring his loud footsteps behind you. This day was supposed to be relaxing, but he was annoying you with his walking, talking, and looking handsome. Handsome—what in the hell am I thinking?

"What cat got your tongue, sweetheart?" You pay him no mind, having reached your car now. This'll be over as soon as you get back to the beach.

"Leave me alone, Rooster," you mutter, your eyes never finding his.

"No, see. You always try to get on my nerves, but this shit? You and Seresin? That's going a step too far, honeybun. You know I dislike him more than I do you, yet you still flirted with him like some kind of slu—" What?

"No," your voice shakes as you finally meet his eyes. "Bradley, you're being mean. Stop it. You can't yell at me about Seresin when I've had to watch you flirt with a hundred other girls. I've liked you since the Academy—before you knew I existed. I won't have you hurt me with your words anymore, not when I've spent so much time trying to find a way for you to like me back."

There's silence. And for a second, your chest feels lighter than it has in weeks. The words tumbled out of your mouth before you could stop them, and you're glad—until you're not. Bradley's looking at you, frozen in his place, his eyes unblinking. Suddenly, you wished you hadn't spoken. The very much spoken line of hatred that connected you two is now severed, and you fear that you've lost him forever.

"You-You don't have to say you like me back or anything. But you needed to know this because the weight was getting too heavy, and I couldn't bear to hold it anymore." You inhale, blinking back tears and forcing sobs down your throat.

"The only reason I approached Jake in the first place was because of you and Maria. She made me so jealous—a kind of jealousy that was so soul-sucking and toxic. Her touching you made me so insecure about my own body because what does she have that I don't? Calling Hangman over me was a petty way of gaining your attention—something I've dreamed of for so long. So, my mind's response was to do something teenage-like to hurt your feelings—even though I knew you wouldn't care that much."

He stays there still, and you take a moment to look at him—really look at him. His eyes are looking at your face, but they're in a faraway place. Someone would say he's not listening, but you know he is. If Bradley wants to ignore someone, he walks away—he never zones out—so yeah, he's listening.

His skin glistens with sweat from the game, and his aviators are lower than they're supposed to be on the bridge of his nose. His hair is messy, and you can see the spots on his cheeks where the sun burned him most.

A few seconds pass, but he's still frozen, and you scoff. You scoff to hide the pain of the rejection you just took. You told him he didn't need to say anything back. So, he can stay as quiet as he wants. But you're leaving. You walk around him, speed-walking to the beach to get your stuff. You don't dare look back.

This is the second time you're leaving because of him. The squadron is busy cheering, so they don't notice how you slip out with a few stray tears rolling down your cheeks.

Rooster's not in front of the car when you arrive. Good, you didn't want to see him after that very embarrassing and emotional moment. He's going to be okay—he's a big boy. You, on the other hand, are on the verge of falling apart. Things changed as soon as you spilt your heart out to him.

You sigh and shut the car door, your fingers turning the key in the ignition. Training is going to be so weird on Monday. Thank fuck for Sunday because you need to gather your thoughts and emotions.

You make a mental note to do your laundry before heading to bed, so you won't have to do it when your friends return, and there's a chance of bumping onto Rooster. 

You just need a break away from him to forget about the whole...beach disaster.

previous | next

—

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[mikeellee]

So @bibibbon talked about the chapter and was thinking in sit this one down but...nah, I want to say how...this chapter is another proof this is not a story where Izu will be the biggest hero, but the biggest martyr if he is lucky.

The fact Izu is now quirkless and lost an arm is...gross. really gross. I talked to @doodlegirl1998 how the trope people created in fics where "Izu loses his arm ain't cool?" Is really not cool. He loses an army for shocking value and gains nothing. Edward Elric wants to revive his mother and then save his bother...he lost his power but got something greater in return...and people think Izu and Edward's cases are the same. Not even in fics make similar.

@palesweetscherryblossom Izu lost his arm and quirk to save a lunatic. The fandom is weeping about Tenko's friends "he was so good" cricket noises to Izu as in chapter 1 we saw him doing the whole "helping misfit" but no misfit helped him.

Now .... something some people may not agree. Dfo! No. I dont think it will be canon nor I want to be. Afo has show he doesn't care for Izu (guys Inko already suck as mother...do we need to give this to Izu? What would help? I even think he wants to die now "don't have anything outside for me now")

We saw afo on a "date" with Kotaro and people may think this will lead to dfo. I think it will lead to afo being a creepy. Dude is doing everything to ruin Nana's family for....reasons we don't know. (If Nana was a man...would he have done this extreme? Not calling afo a sexist but if she was a man would the narrative treat the situation the same? Maybe, maybe not)

Afo is alive and well...inside Shig's world. We will see this asshole be his cringe self and ...Izu won't matter. We are seeing more of this joke now...afo walking around and talking to people is supposed to be scary "oooh the demon is among us" and if the writing was good this could have been a great twist....it's MHA. Afo was ausent in the story and is now a pitiful plot device.

A theory I saw...is how Yoichi may be the biggest hero and...sacrifice himself to end afo. So in a way, ending afo and ofa forever. Why he never did this before? Who cares? But this theory is still too optimist.

Izu and shig's memories don't really matter. It's an artificial way to make them seem as if they had a great relationship, they don't. Also ....have we saw any memory that matter for Izu? He has any good memory?

But yeah...afo gave shig decay...somehow. bc why not? You know, if Izu doesn't die...I do hope Eri rewind him so his arm is back.

Not sure if I'm making sense...it's just MHA is a big nothing and at the same time "fuck you Izu. Be silent" and his only theory is ...that fandom clings for some reason is "izu is the son of afo" and for what? What this would change? Afo calls Izu useless...he doesn't like him nor show any paternal love...guys, look how he treats Shig...why he would be a dad or want to be one?

I think next chapter....we will see afo's past again...more of the parasite. Seeing him planning how to ruin the Shimuras (the Shimuras as the newest chewing toy) and laughing maniacally. Why all that? Bc fuck you Nana.

Also.....Izu saw MONCHAN and Hana die. Great. He has no idea who they are but ...he saw they dying.

[fatuismooches]

hello, victim of my sudden blues because i started listening to sad music. i just wanna talk about some intricacies of reader's and dottore's relationship bc i haven't been feeling well 🫠🫠 dont mind this too much i think it sounds kinda dumb n it's kinda like just word vomit.. anyways, hurt/comfort, reader suffering from uhhh issues?? insecure?? idk how to word it

when he was young, zandik had to learn.

he already learns a lot. he has knowledge far beyond the average human mind at such a young age. but he still had to learn. learn things what he initially thought utterly useless and not of his concern.

he had to learn how to be human.

how could this be? zandik is human (he plans to not be one, though, in the far future).

even as a child, he wasn't treated much like a human. depending on your iteration, zandik may or may not have parents who love him. still, it doesn't save him from the outside world. how his neighbors looked at him in scorn, how they talk about him behind his back, whispering and murmuring until his ears nearly bleeds. how the other kids pick on him, give him bruises for no good reason. ignoring his cries for them to stop, ignoring his frustration and confusion. why do they call him a monster when he simply thirsts for knowledge? isn't sumeru known as the nation of wisdom? why must he be the village's object of hatred when he was merely a child. other children beat him up and call him a 'monster' when he hasn't done anything wrong.

even though he was young.

he was vulnerable, impressionable. undeniably human.

he was treated to be otherwise but the people that surrounds him. and he has accepted it as he grows older.

after all, a child mimics what they see. a child, born human, learned to be a monster.

but there you were, teaching him, reminding him, that he was, in fact, human.

you've barged into his life (uninvited) and made an irremovable impression. you've claimed a spot into the void of his existence that fills him whole, and once you're gone, it was like he was incomplete. like a barnacle that stuck onto his skin and refuses to let go until he dies.

he learned, through you, that he is allowed to feel; to cry in the arms of someone who cares, to laugh at something he finds funny, to smile despite his sharp teeth, to look at something in pure awe though his eyes were crimson red—to study, to be passionate, to disregard those who wishes nothing but suffering to him, to sleep without a worry, to care, to love.

to feel like he's a monster, yet still be embraced, to be kissed, to be loved.

to feel human, to be human.

but he hasn't learned enough.

it hasn't been more clear when you suddenly broke into tears right in front of him whilst you were doing a group project at the akademiya.

he watches as tears spill from your eyes, head hung low as you frantically wipe them off. you sob harder when you see the papers you've worked so hard on be soaked. you expected zandik to yell at you for ruining your project, for stalling progress, for crying.

but it unsettles you more when he says nothing.

he was thinking, that's for sure. but you don't know what. he doesn't appear to be angry, nor happy either. but he's thinking, and you want to cry harder because of it.

you start to apologize. laugh at yourself because—gosh, you're crying in the middle of a project. so ridiculous, you're wasting his time and—

zandik was lost.

you didn't cry as much as far as he could remember. sure, when you were kids, you cried. it's normal, you were a child. as you grew older, you cried less. complained less as well. you stopped talking about complications you have between your parents, or your siblings, or your other relatives. you stopped mentioning how your own friends began to deviate from you ever since you started hanging out with him. you grew silent when you hear them murmur about you whenever you stood next to him.

he thought you were fine. you never talked to him about it. you always did cater to his needs a lot more than yours; he hasn't heard you talk something that you feel negatively for years. it was like a flip has been switched inside his head. why do you not talk to him? not complain? not cry like you used to?

zandik knows that humans can never achieve perfection. each and every individual has flaws. he himself has flaws (that he has yet to remove), and even so, you loved him. with his imperfections and madness.

you were too perfect. to his eyes at least. ever smiling, reminding him of his needs, helping him with his research, indulging him with whatever he wants.

and so he asks, as tears stains your cheeks.

and you spill, because you were bursting with emotion. with sadness, guilt, frustration, and fear. bursting with imperfection. you confess you stopped seeking for his help to not inconvenience him. to not hold him back. he was busy, and you didn't want to be a burden.

zandik mind blanks.

well, all throughout his life, he has never once thought you were a burden. even if you tried to pose yourself as this perfect, flawless, assistant. he, as a scholar, make mistakes. it is how he learns, to improve, to grow. so why can't you? why can't you screw up? appear weak and vulnerable before his eyes? he knows you trusts him, but why do you hold yourself back?

maybe because he has never noticed—or tried to. he mostly focuses on himself and his research, and while you were a part of his life, he has regrettably paid little mind to your needs. you did everything for him, and he has yet to learn to do the same.

you've comforted him, but zandik doesn't know how to comfort you. it was maddening for him, really. to grow restless as you cry, wanting to do something yet not knowing. how does he comfort you? this is the first time you've cried in front of him after all those years. does he wipe your tears away? does he give you words of encouragement? does he do this? does he do that?

he doesn't know. he hates that he doesn't know. he hates that he never tried to know.

guilt—such a bitter taste in his tongue.

he has never felt any guilt to the people he has tortured with his tainted hands. he has never felt guilt when he burned his village—a distant memory—down to the ground.

it was a sickening feeling.

he never wants to feel it again.

he abhors it.

he feels disgusting.

wretched.

human.

of course, it was only you who can make him feel human. only you who can make him feel these horrible sensations in his heart, sinking down to his bones. love, happiness, joy, fear, anger, sadness, guilt—he loathes it. it makes him feel weak.

but he accepts. only for you, only to you.

he is willing to learn, he wants to learn.

he wants to know how to lighten the weight that burdens your shoulders. he wants to know how to make you smile brightly like you always had. he wants to know what makes you feel sad, to let you cry into his arms, to tell him every thing that bothers you.

he wants to understand.

teach him to understand.

so zandik may not know what will cheer you up this moment.

but he tries. and if he fails, he will try again.

he stands up from the floor, your hands in his, and he leads you outside your shared flat. to a clearing, with water streaming from a river, with flora blooming everywhere. the grass damp, the winds howling.

it was a chilly night.

the stars twinkled up in the skies, forming constellations that you could recognize with ease.

zandik sits you on the grass next to him, and he wraps his arms around you.

you could hear crickets chirping into the night, the lights around the city dimming as the people go to sleep. silent chatter from the people who pass by, and the sounds of leaves dancing into the breeze.

his hands rubbing your back, his chin on top of your head. it was how you hug him usually, when you cuddle. your face buried into his chest, breathing in sync.

it was calm.

soothing.

warm, especially in his arms.

and you sob harder than you ever had in your entire life.

it was like a dam had broken, and now the tears now fall endlessly. you cling onto zandik as you cry. he listens to you babble about everything that ails you, how you feel, and your insecurities. you cry and cry, and he listens, wiping your tears with his thumbs, his face soft. pained.

understandably so, he wasn't used to... whatever this was.

he was so unsure, but he tries.

you aren't much comforted, too many things burden you.

your negative thoughts won't disappear just because he finally decided to pay more attention to you. buried beneath your fears and insecurities lies anger. you hate that you are more understanding toward him. you really can't blame yourself for favoring him over the years.

but you could always read him so easily. you can tell.

he wants to learn. learn more about you, learn how to be better. to be true to himself, to be a lover, to be your forever partner—to be human.

to you, and only for you.

zandik will try, and learn, if only for you.

zandik learns from his mistakes, he will be sure to never let you succumb to your own sufferings like this ever again.

it will probably take years for zandik to say the words he wants to say.

but he clings to you so tightly, his hands gripping hard onto your clothes, his adam's apple trembling and his eyes twinkled with the stars above—im sorry.

and he pulls you impossibly closer, pressing a kiss on your temple, and listening to every word you say. his heart thumping in his chest, his hands caressing your skin—i love you.

and you know it. of course you do. because it's only to you that zandik will ever be like this. vulnerable, weak,

so

utterly

unbearably

and painfully

human.

you teach with your love,

and his heart will learn.

the stars that witness every passing moment bears testament of your love.

and when you look up high in the sky, with dottore holding your hand, peering from the balcony of the white expanse of snezhnaya, while he rambles on and on about his recent experiment to you, it reminds you of that night. hundreds of years ago.

"dottore," you call his name, breaking him from his trance, looking at you with utmost attention. you smile at him, scooting closer as you bury yourself deep into his harbinger coat (that he handed to you due to the cold). "my zandik," you coo,

and he grins, his hands now lay on your waist as he tilts his head curiously. "yes, my dear?" your heart soars at the pet name, your giddiness evident to him.

"oh, nothing," you sigh, hands reaching up to his face and slowly taking off the mask that covers his beautiful, scarred face. "just remembered that night."

you bring it up often whenever you get nostalgic. and every time, you laugh at the face he makes—a big frown, his brows furrowed.

"i'm just glad i broke down that day," you admit, playing with his soft, cyan hair and kissing the long stand that was curled around your finger. "gods know what would happen if i didn't. i wouldn't have complete power over you like i do now."

his scowls at that, straightening his back to tower over you, an attempt to appear threatening. "complete power? over me?" he scoffs, "preposterous."

"if so, then you can sleep in your office tonight." you hum, standing on your tippy-toes to level with him. "you wouldn't mind that, right? you're the oh so powerful il dottore, after all!"

"... don't make me..." he suddenly sulks, his face finding your shoulder as he wraps his arms around you. you laugh, shaking your head and rolling your eyes.

"i was kidding." you huff, carding your fingers through his hair. "i wouldn't want to miss a night without you."

"good to know." he sighs, pleased, "i love you, my dear."

you smile once more, admiring the starts that have watched over you from the day you were born, and a hundred years later.

forever bearing witness of your love for a monster named il dottore, and your lover, a human, named zandik.

"yeah," you close your eyes, "love you too."

oh yeah do you mind me sending a few more when i get a thought in my mind? i don't wanna swarm your inbox, so it's okay! i just wanna distract myself with dottore 💥💥anyways thanks for listening to my thing, i like talking about stuff like these :3 i think i got carried away tho heehoo

oh mY GOSH.... I THINK THIS IS THE LONGEST ASK I'VE EVER GOTTEN BUT I AM NOT COMPLAINING WHATSOEVER. I LOVE THIS SM, IT IS NOT DUMB AT ALL ;(( <333 I'm sorry you haven't been feeling well, I hope you take it easy if possible okay? And of course I don't mind you sending more asks, whether it's just regular chatting or writing I'm happy to receive them :) I'm happy to listen to your things hehe 🫶 But. Forgive me this is already SO good already my additions may be short and not very good,, 😭

OH STOP... the idea of child Zandik having to "teach" himself how to become human is heartwrenching. It's not something one would ever think to do, much less a child... the saddest part is that he was born a human, a curious, innocent one initially, though viewed as completely different - a monster - and that is what he shall become if everyone wished it on him so dearly. But oh, of course you had to come in and mess him up. Mess up his heart. His mind. His body. His thoughts. Feelings. Emotions. Even a bit of cognition. You were not part of the plan. The acceptance of being treated by others like less than dirt, the acceptance of being unloved and hated, the acceptance of refusing any kind of remote kindness or affection. You changed everything. You changed him. You taught him. But... he doesn't think you've ever prepared him for a situation like this.

Crying in front of Zandik out of nowhere, will probably be a horrible decision on your part. You have no idea how he'll react, what will happen, if anything will go down, how you'll possibly recover from the embarrassment or explain yourself. But the harder you try to push the thought out of your mind, the more your hand gets wobbly, your body heats up and trembles, your throat closes, and soon enough your vision is blurry, and fresh hot tears are pattering onto the desk. You know Zandik has noticed from the way his pen no longer scraped against the paper, but you do not dare look at him, for you are not sure if you could face him. But not a peep comes from your lover, making your heart pound almost painfully at the silence beside your sobs that you were desperately trying to control. How mortifying, you thought. Embarrassing. You don't know what you were even doing, how stupid you were being. You play it off with laughter because of course you do, what else were you to do? Actually explain? No, of course not.

Zandik, on the other hand, had no clue what was even going on. He does remember a few instances of your tears. Because you fell and scraped your knee, because someone yelled at you, kid things. But this was completely different. These were real, serious tears. And so the scholar thinks. You were always indulging him and his rants, his disdain for other people and how they irritated him so. But it is now he realizes he hasn't heard you say anything remotely similar in a very long time. What makes you upset? Angry? The answer was, that he doesn't know, for you have never confided in him in a long time. You are the only person he should know everything about, and yet he doesn't. It leaves an uncomfortable feeling in him. He wonders if you've been feeling a similar yet different kind of uncomfortableness for a while now without his knowledge.

Zandik must know. And that mere inquiry is all you need for words to start tumbling out your mouth, some probably incoherent but you just needed to get them out. Were they nice? No, not at all, and he doesn't understand. How could you feel all these things when you are you? The one person he acknowledges and loves for all of their worth? How could he not notice all these things bottling up in you too? And it's now that Zandik has come to understand, he is not the... best lover. When you agreed to be in a romantic relationship, you knew he would not be a typical or traditional man. He would not court you, not be romantic or sappy, would not waste time with things of that nature. Though... listening to you has nothing to do with that. Zandik wants you to be able to air all your grievances to him. Will he lend a listening ear? Yes. Will he be able to comfort you, however, that is a different story.

Zandik does not wish for anything anymore - he believes if he wants something, he will work to seize it with his very hands - but at this moment he wishes he knew the concept of comforting. This concept, by itself, would be useless to him normally, but you... you deserve it. And yet he can't give it to you, like you've given it to him many times. He despises it. The foreign feeling of guilt is one he has grown to hate the most. Though despite how much it annoys him, he will endure it. For you. Solely for you. Because you are worth that. You are worth him doing many things he wouldn't normally do. Things that make him grumble and complain but he'll end up doing anyway. Things that result in you smiling and laughing and trying to throw your arms around him. And so from that instance, he resolves himself to this journey. He will understand, whether it takes a few years or a decade or even perhaps centuries. He will be sure to understand.

When Zandik takes you by the hand you're unsure but go along with it anyway, the other still pathetically trying to wipe the tears from your face. He takes you outside for some reason and though your vision was blurred the scenery still looked as lovely as ever, the view you loved so dearly after waking up and your first view being of Zandik's face, and then the scene outside the window. Though you don't worry about that, you're still confused by Zandik's actions. But then he pulls you to the grass with him and just embraces you, and you can't help but stiffen for a moment because... you really weren't expecting this. But your lover continues his movements anyway. You feel so comforted, and that kind of environment is all you need to let your deepest and darkest troubles, concerns, worries, insecurities, whatever you need to say, out. The idea of Zandik doing this for you was still lodged at the very back of your mind, and you knew that Zandik himself was probably not sure of what the hell he was doing, but neither of you cared at this moment. Both of you were trying, trying hard, for each other. Nothing will ever get better immediately. Everything takes time, lots of time, even. But effort matters as well. It's still not enough, but if he tries, if he learns, maybe everything will be okay. For now, you'll be satisfied with his unspoken words and actions, for this is all he can muster now too. No one will ever understand, they don't need to understand the two of you anyway - not when the stars are shining down so brightly, illuminating the love you two have for each other.

When you look at Dottore, sometimes you can't help but reminisce to the older times. When you two were just simple scholars with big dreams. And now, many of those dreams have been fulfilled, and Dottore has become a changed man, but you can't help but think. Especially that night. It holds a special place in your heart.

You can't help but want to be as close as possible to him. You'll take every single piece of his attention if you could, and won't say no. You might end up stealing this coat of his forever though, surely he has enough that he won't notice if one is missing.

Whenever you bring up that night, Dottore already knows what you're going to say and do. You'll always pepper his scarred face with kisses, play with his hair, and then tease him about oh how immensely powerful you were over him, never missing a beat. You never seem to let it go, no matter how many times he corrects you in your thinking. And then you'll always playfully banter back, and then he uncharacteristically gives in at this rare moment of tenderness, and then you always forgive him, as both of you already know how this goes. Yet, it never seems to grow old.

You think... the sky of Teyvat may be fake, but, the significance and beautifulness of it to you will always remain important and real in your heart and memories.

[shmolish]

hello I love your writing soo much, I was wondering if you can do pastel meringue cookie one

AN: WHO IS THIS CUTIE-PATOOTIE AND HOW HAVEN'T I LEARNED ABOUT THEM SOONER???

I just find him so interesting and cute, so I decided to make a oneshot with some headcanons at the bottom 😅 There will definitely be more of him in the future, just give me a little bc tests are starting today-

I can easily see this being writin with the opposite dynamic, but I just wanted an excuse to write a pathetically in love Meringue

Pastel Meringue x Reader

Oneshot

Warnings: Not proof read

-Fairytale-

In many fairytales, the prince will do most of the saving. It's a very traditional way of going about storytelling, but it still has this dash of enchantment to it.

Pastel Meringue's story seems to be going a bit differently, though, despite still being a fairytale... You see, in his story, you seem to be doing most of the saving.

Pastel Meringue has always wanted nothing more than to be treated like a prince; but how can he play that role when he feels himself getting weak everytime he sees you?

It wasn't a bad feeling per se, it just got in the way of his charming and confident personality. Honestly, how was he supposed to woo you when his face turned all rosey at just the thought of you?

When Pastel Meringue saw you earlier today and felt butterflies in his stomach, along with his temperature raising a concerning amount, he knew something would have to be done.

A confession seemed to be one of his only options, and of course, it would have to be absolutely perfect.

So he went about writing you this extravagant letter inviting you over while also collecting only the cutest of flowers for a bouquet.

He made sure to put on his best outfit and waited eagerly for your arrival.

Then there was a chime at his door.

He was sure that there wasn't anyway he could possible mess this up after preparing for nearly the entire day.

He opened up the door, revealing perfect perfect you.

All of his thoughts began to whisk together, and he had become a blushing, flustered mess.

"Ahem, hello ribbon-" he managed say after staring for an embarrassingly long time.

"Hi!" You'd respond with a smile.

It was always that smile. Gosh, it absolutely ruined him! He could die right here and right now as long as you continued to smile like that. Seriously, how was he supposed to do anything at all when you're giving him that look?

"Meringue?" You'd say, poking at him a bit. He went silent, and it had become slightly worrying.

"Oh, um, me? Imfineimfinereally, justcomeinside,hahaha--"

Wonderfully executed.

So you and Pastel Meringue began to catch up over a cup of tea. Originally, he would have confessed to you right at the door with all of these flower petals flowing down elegantly to give the room this romantic air to it, and you would have confessed your undying love for him.

Obviously, that isn't exactly what ended up happening, but you have to flexible with these kinds of things, right?

"So how have you been?" You'd ask.

"Fine," he replied, still blushing profusely.

"I actually have something I've been meaning to tell you for a little while now," you would say.

Over one-thousand thoughts began to race in his head. Did you not like him? Was he acting too weird? Maybe you're already dating someone? He just sat there nervously for the news to arrive.

"You know, I really like you," you said calmly.

In that moment, Paste Meringue just couldn't understand it. You said it so casually, and he was just so surprised.

"You do?"

You nodded your head.

An awkward silence filled the room. This isn't how it was supposed to go at all. How had you always managed to steal the spotlight? He even wanted to confess first...

"I... like you as well-" he would say.

You laughed a bit. "I figured, you're really not that great at hiding it!"

《☆》 Fin

Headcanons ♡

Definitely kicked his feet and giggled like a middle school girl when he first met you

Was so madly in love with you

Still is, of course

Everytime you compliment him, he legit malfunctions

Makes you clothing often

Has planed on confessing numerous times but chickened out each time

It was so painfully obvious to everyone involved how he felt about you

You eventually got a bit bored of waiting and just confessed yourself

Felt kinda bad about it, but you weren't sure if he was ever going to go through with it!

[reasonablerodents]

Just in case it breaks your writing dry spell, there's been a terrible lack of NYE hotchreid fics, and I'm here to humbly request that you fix this with a short nye bau party/night out and everyone paired up for their nye kiss except hotch and spencer…

This is very true!!!! And somehow this DID break my writing dry spell bc I’m somehow actually happy with how this turned out???? (And okay….It’s not short)

Thank you!!!

Good Fortune (G)

Aaron Hotchner/Spencer Reid, Fluff, New Year’s Kisses

They’re all partnered up these days. Penelope has Kevin, Emily and JJ have been together for God knows how long, Derek’s in the early days with a woman named Savannah, and Dave? Well, he may not be officially dating anyone, but he met a woman at the bar a few hours earlier, and the two seem to be getting on very well.

That just leaves him and Spencer.

If Aaron was a braver man, he would have asked Spencer out years ago. But his head is too full of regulations and boss/employee power dynamics and- okay, the main reason he hasn’t done anything after all this time is because he’s scared. Rejection always hurt, but being rejected by Spencer would surely feel far worse than if it was from anyone else. Besides, they already had a perfectly good- albeit platonic- relationship; there was no reason to ruin it by acting inappropriately.

Aaron sneaks a glance to the left, where Spencer is stood next to him and staring into the crowded bar, one hand idly gripping a half-finished drink. He seems to be people-watching, and Aaron can’t get over how beautiful he is like this; unknowingly poised like a painting, the dim light softly illuminating the curve of his lips and angular planes of his face. Spencer’s eyes are wide and glittering, drinking in the revelry instead of his cocktail.

“Not long until midnight, pretty boy,” Derek laughs as he and Savannah pass by on their way back to the bar, playfully tapping Spencer on the shoulder to get his attention. “You’ll have to be quick if you wanna sort out a New Year’s kiss!”

Spencer makes a move as if to splutter an indignant reply, but Derek’s already turning to Aaron with a trademark smile. “You too, man. Even you’ve got to let loose a little on New Years. I’d offer my services to you both, but I’m really hoping Savannah will give me the honour tonight.”

Savannah giggles, wrapping an arm around Derek’s waist. “Well, we’ll just have to see what happens come midnight- your chances might be better if you get me the drink you promised me, though.”

“Anything for you,” Derek replies, gently lifting her free hand and pressing a chaste kiss to it like a Victorian gentleman. “Forget a glass of wine, I’ll get you the whole bottle.”

“I’m holding you to that.”

With that, they depart. Aaron watches them a little wistfully as they squeeze their way through the crowd, always keeping a hand on one another. He’s nothing but happy for Derek’s budding romance, of course, but he can’t help but wish that he could have something like that as well.

“I’ve never had a New Year’s kiss.”

Spencer’s soft voice from his left makes him turn back around.

“No?” Aaron says, trying and failing not to think too deeply about Spencer’s lips.

“No. Relationships haven’t historically been my strong point, so there’s never been anyone around to offer me one. I suppose I could find a random person, but if someone’s going to be orally swapping bacteria with me, even for a few seconds, I’d prefer to know them a little first.”

Aaron takes a sip of his whisky. “I haven’t in a long time, so you’re not alone.”

“I know. I’ve spent the last four New Years with you,” Spencer replies matter-of-factly, before darting off on a tangent. “Did you know, kissing at midnight is actually an old Scottish tradition? Hogmanay was introduced when the Vikings invaded, and one part of the celebrations involves welcoming friends and strangers alike, which apparently involves kissing them.”

“No, I didn’t. I guess I’ve never thought about where it came from.”

“Another tradition is First-Footing, although it’s definitely not as commonly practiced around here. The first person to enter the house should be a dark-haired man to ensure good luck. He’s supposed to bring gifts with him, such as coins, coal, or whisky, it can vary slightly regionally, I think. You’d be a good first-footer, I reckon- I mean, you’ve already got the whisky.”

“And the hair, I guess.”

“Mmm. Tall, dark, and handsome.”

Aaron’s glad he hadn’t just taken another sip of his drink, because after hearing Spencer use those words to describe him, he certainly would have spat it out in shock. He can feel his cheeks growing warm, and is incredibly glad of how dark it is in the bar. Spencer's very observant though, so it’s almost certain he’s already noticed Aaron’s flustered reaction however much he tries to hide it.

Before he can work out how to reply to that, a deafening shout ripples across the room.

“Ten!”

Spencer’s not just looking at Aaron in general any more, he’s looking into his eyes. His gaze flickers downwards as the countdown continues- oh God, is Spencer looking at his lips? Aaron finds himself setting his glass down as he unconsciously inches closer, barely daring to breathe.

“Six!”

Is this going to- surely not? But Spencer’s own lips are slightly parted now, his glass abandoned as well.

“Four!”

It’s only seconds, but each one feels like eons. The countdown fades slightly as Aaron’s heartbeat fills his ears.

“One!”

Aaron takes a deep breath, and before he can even make a move, the clock strikes midnight and Spencer leans in and kisses him.

It feels exactly like the fireworks that are going off outside.