#anyways i know no one cares and i am making a fuss out of a bunch of shitposts which are only intended to be funny

[oistersorsnails]

ok i get that the "hannibal despises rudeness and yet fell in love with the rudest person ever" trope is funny and all

but it kinda makes me uncomfortable because at the end of the day, it's just not true

will is honest and assertive. he's snarky and passive aggressive. he avoids people in general. but that's not what hannibal is referring to when he talks about rudeness.

he couldn't care less about social etiquette and whatnots.

when hannibal mentions rudeness he's talking about intentions, actions and consequences.

will is meticulous. he doesn't improvise. he plans every action. that's the opposite of rude in hannibal's terms.

[tardis--dreams]

Some of those doctors make hating oat milk their entire personality. I hate them. Cannot pretend to find them funny or like i give a shit. Fucking pretentious assholes

[lecsainz]

˒ ⌕ CUTE MOMENTS

summary: some cute moments if you were dating one of the characters from the riordanverse.

an: my inspiration is running low 😭

( my last work for riodanverse || go to main masterlist )

˒ ⌕ CLARISSE LA RUE

Clarisse returned to her cabin after a day of training, only to find you cozily wrapped up in her oversized hoodie. The sight made her heart skip a beat. "Hey, that's my hoodie," she grinned, a playful glint in her eyes.

You looked up, a shy smile tugging at your lips. "I hope you don't mind. It's just so comfy."

Clarisse chuckled, walking over to you. "Nah, looks better on you anyway." She slid her arms around your waist, pulling you closer. "Besides, it's not like I mind sharing with my girl."

You blushed at the affectionate words, leaning into her embrace. "You're the best, Clarisse."

"Damn right, I am," she teased, leaning down to steal a quick kiss. "But you make my hoodie look even better. Maybe I should let you borrow it more often."

˒ ⌕ PERCY JACKSON

Percy returned to his cabin, tired after a day of training and quests. As he entered, he noticed a familiar figure curled up on his bed. It took a moment for him to register, and when he did, a surprised smile crept onto his face.

"Y/N, what are you doing here?" he whispered, not wanting to wake you.

You stirred, blinking sleepily at him. "Hey, Percy. I...uh, might have dozed off waiting for you."

He chuckled, finding your presence more delightful than any surprise. "You're adorable when you're asleep, you know that?"

You blushed, sitting up and rubbing your eyes. "Sorry for intruding. I'll go back to my cabin."

Percy shook his head, moving closer. "No way. You're staying right here." He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you back onto the bed. "This is the best surprise ever. I wouldn't want to come back to an empty cabin anyway."

You snuggled into his embrace, feeling completely at ease. "I might have left a surprise for you too."

Percy raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Oh? What's that?"

With a sly smile, you pulled out a small bag of blue cookies. "Blue chocolate chip cookies. A little something I whipped up for you."

Percy's eyes lit up, and he grabbed one eagerly. "I love you, you know that?"

Your cheeks turned a deeper shade of red, and Percy's laughter filled the room. He placed a gentle kiss on your blushing cheek.

"I love your cookies and you," he teased, his expression softening. "I mean it, Y/N."

Your heart fluttered at his words, and you replied with a shy smile, "I love you too, Percy."

˒ ⌕ LEO VALDEZ

Leo couldn't help but grin as you fussed over a small scrape on his arm, your eyes filled with concern.

"Hey, Sunshine, what's with the worried face?" he asked, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

You sighed, "Leo, you need to take better care of yourself. You're always getting hurt."

"Ah, it's just a little scratch. I'm practically fireproof, babe," he teased.

You rolled your eyes, but your concern persisted. "Seriously, Leo, let me help. I don't want you getting hurt all the time."

Leo's expression softened as he looked into your eyes. "Alright, alright, Nurse Y/N, do your thing."

As you rummaged through a first aid kit, Leo couldn't help but admire how adorable you looked, completely absorbed in caring for him. The thought crossed his mind – he was the luckiest demigod in camp.

When you returned with antiseptic and a bandage, Leo flashed a sly smile. "Does this mean I get a kiss for being a good patient?"

You blushed, trying to hide a smile, and replied, "Leo Valdez, you're impossible."

He winked, "But you love it."

˒ ⌕ LUKE CASTELLAN

As moonlight spilled across the camp, you emerged from your cabin, a sheepish expression on your face. Luke, who was sitting by the fire, noticed your arrival.

"Hey, couldn't sleep again?" he asked, sensing your restlessness.

You nodded, a slight blush coloring your cheeks. "Yeah, I thought... maybe I could sleep with you tonight? If that's okay."

Luke's eyes lit up, and he patted the space beside him. "Of course, come here."

You settled beside him, feeling the warmth of the fire and the comforting presence of Luke. As you nestled into his side, he wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close.

"Much better?" Luke inquired, his voice filled with tenderness.

You nodded, appreciating the security of his embrace. "Thanks for always being here, Luke."

He smiled down at you, planting a gentle kiss on your forehead. "Anytime, sweetheart. I love having you in my arms."

˒ ⌕ ANNABETH CHASE

You were quietly sketching in your notebook, capturing the essence of Annabeth's features with each stroke of your pencil. Lost in the moment, you didn't notice her approaching until she peeked over your shoulder.

"You drawing something interesting?" Annabeth inquired, a hint of curiosity in her eyes.

You looked up, a mischievous smile playing on your lips. "Maybe," you replied cryptically, revealing the sketch of Annabeth you had been working on.

Annabeth's eyes widened as she saw herself on paper. "You... you drew me?" she asked, a hint of surprise and shyness in her voice.

You looked up, a warm smile on your face. "Guilty as charged. Couldn't resist capturing your beauty on paper."

She blushed, clearly not accustomed to being the subject of someone's artistic attention. "I didn't know you could draw so well."

Leaning in, you pressed a gentle kiss to her cheek. "There's a lot you don't know about me, Wise Girl."

Her blush deepened, but she couldn't hide the small smile that played on her lips. "Well, keep drawing, then," she said, feigning nonchalance.

˒ ⌕ JASON GRACE

You sat in front of your vanity, engrossed in the process of applying makeup. The soft hum of a song played in the background as you carefully blended shades on your eyelids. Unbeknownst to you, Jason lay comfortably on your bed, observing your every move.

"Wow, you really know what you're doing with that stuff," he remarked, a lighthearted smile playing on his lips.

You turned to see him lounging there, a teasing glint in his eyes. "I'm just experimenting. What do you think?"

Jason propped himself up on his elbows. "You don't need any of that to look amazing, you know?"

You felt a blush creep up on your cheeks at his sweet comment. "You're biased."

He chuckled, getting up and walking over to you. "Maybe a little, but you're beautiful with or without makeup."

With a gentle touch, he brushed a strand of hair behind your ear. The sincerity in his eyes made your heart flutter. "I'm the luckiest guy to have you," he whispered, leaning in for a soft kiss that lingered, leaving you with a warm and fuzzy feeling.

[munsster]

sober thoughts

A/N: who let the WIPs out? 🙈 nah….. i was gonna continue but….. that was so corny. anyway, i am back from the hiatus No One saw coming. enjoy <3 (gif creds: @raiderlucy)

Pairing: Steve Harrington x GN!Reader

Summary: If drunk words are sober thoughts, Steve sure is talkative when he’s had a few. 1.3k words

Warnings: fluff, drunk/high steve, pet names (puppy, sweetheart, baby), mutual pining, cursing

It's New Year's, and you find Steve all starry eyed and bubbly in the center of a stranger's kitchen. You know exactly where to find him 'cause he always tells you the kitchen is the best place to hear the music without the fuss of the party. His hair's all tousled and you're pretty sure he lost the top button of his shirt somewhere. You can see the dainty chain looped round his neck in the warm light. The one you gave him.

You catch his eye, and suddenly he's grabbing for your hips like he can't balance without them. He's definitely been smoking with the way his smile reaches his eyes before anything else. Any other night, he would've stayed sober, but you promised to get him and Robin home safely before he could beat you to the punch.

He's hot like an oven up close. All pink in the cheeks and warm at the temples. You push his hair our of his eyes and squint up at him.

"Hi, puppy," you coo. His fingers press a little harder into your soft skin on impulse. Some kind of nonessential reflex or something, but it feels so essential holding onto you like this.

"I like that." The endearment, your eyes right now, the way you're holding his bicep, this song. "I like you."

He dies when you chuckle.

"I like you, too, sweetheart." But he knows you don't mean it like that. Not like how he means it. Everyday he's reminded you like him as a friend. And everyday he's reminded that he likes you as something much more and much less attainable.

Robin tells him it’s noble to play the long game, but in all honesty, he's not sure he's playing any game at all. If you like him one day, hallelujah, it's a goddamn miracle, but if you never like him like that, then that's it and he'll still be your number one admirer forever. Even if that means admiring you from afar.

Still, he whines about it: "You don't get it." You roll your eyes with a lighthearted smile. He's high. But to Steve, that doesn't matter. What matters is the way you let him look at you. He leans a little closer, brings his hand to the side of your neck. On instinct, his lips pucker a little and he bats his long lashes at you.

You put a pause on him with your hand to his chest.

"I'm not gonna kiss you while you're drunk. And high," you tease. You almost feel bad with the way he pouts, his hair all over the place even after pushing it out of his eyes.

“Why not? It’s New Years!”

“Yeah, an hour and a half ago.”

“Well. You kissed Robin, and I kissed no one.” And you think he’s laying it on real thick, playing into the bit for a little too long. You might even suggest it’s less of a bit now and suddenly something much more real and grating.

“Poor baby,” you coo, frowning sweetly in response to his more dramatic frown.

“Yeah. Poor baby. Nobody cares about baby.” Steve huffs like a discontented horse.

“I care about baby.”

“Then kiss me,” he whines.

“You’re inebriated.”

“No, actually. I’m sober as can be, I’ve got no juice in me at all.”

You try and act surprised but you both know he chugged and crushed four beer cans just to impress you. And that was when you first arrived several hours ago. You’re more impressed he hasn’t hurled, yet.

“Steve, I’m only not kissing you because I care. You must know that,” you sigh with your hands gliding easily back over his shoulders, fingers taken with the soft nape of his neck. The warm clasp of his chain.

“Ugh”—he rolls his glassy eyes, grumbling—“o’course I know that. In fact, it’s very thoughtful of you. Doesn’t mean I like it.”

You wish he didn’t seem so sad saying it like that. You wish it didn’t make you so sad to hear it said. Of course, he knows that. Steve is the sweetest, most considerate guy you’ve ever known, and those big, brown eyes are to die for even when they’re a little pink around the edges.

What really matters is that when he looks at you, your heart races like someone’s betting it’s the fastest. It beats even faster at the possibility that his ‘crush’ on you isn’t a joke. That it hasn’t been this whole time. That maybe his feelings are real and that would mean they’re reciprocated.

“Okay, fine, I’ll kiss you.”

Steve assumes the position almost immediately: puckered lips fighting a smile, eyes pinched closed, fingers subconsciously pulling your hips towards him.

You hook around to kiss the apple of his cheek. He groans, setting his heavy head on your shoulder. You pat his back, resting your temple against his peachy ear.

“You can have your kiss if you still want it sober.” At that, he lifts his head, and with it goes a presumptuous eyebrow.

“Sweetheart, I’ve been wanting it sober since I was thirteen. Don’t think that’s gonna change overnight.” He states it like it’s a fact of life; what an idiot! He wasn’t supposed to say it like that! He had planned on some totally romantic picnic or late night drive or some extravagant, life-altering, near-death-experience to set the mood. Anything but at the very beginning of a new year, intoxicated in every sense of the word.

“Steve!” You holler, “Since thirteen?!”

“Well, duh! You just have zero googoo eyes radar. I make ‘em all the time at you,” he says, shrugging it off. But you can only imagine thirteen-year-old Stevie waiting for the bottle to point to you, only for it to skip you every lousy turn. And thirteen-year-old you somehow jinxing the rotation of the bottle. No matter how hard you willed it to choose you, it never did. Not for Stevie.

“Well… stop that!”

He chuckles. “You can’t make me.”

You’ve never been more nervous talking to Steve. You’re so nervous, you can’t even remember when it used to be easy. His eyes are locked with yours, big and shiny and so brown and wide and soft. Windows to the soul, eh?

“You are so plastered,” you scoff. Who says he can peer into your soul. You divert him to the ceiling instead, knuckles to his strong chin.

Steve shakes his head. “That doesn’t change anything.”

“It changes everything,” you look at him to find a painfully familiar lopsided smile. “It changed everything.”

He tilts his head. Sweetly. Mischievous as ever, but sweet.

“So, you’ll kiss me tomorrow?”

You sigh. “Only if you ask nicely tomorrow.”

“Fine!”

What you don’t expect is for him to run out of the room. There’s muffled shouting, the slam of a door, a triumphant ‘yes’, and a beat of silence before he returns, scuttling across the floor, sharpie in hand.

One of his shirt sleeves is pushed to the elbow. Across his forearm is a smattering of permanent black ink.

“What’s this?” you coo as he excitedly presents his arm to you.

“It’s a reminder.”

Looking closer at the ink splotches, you can just barely make out the message: Ask nicely, coward. You squint up at him, trying your hardest not to giggle.

“It’s a threat and a reminder,” he chirps, brows raised, eyes wide, chest pounding. He thinks you look happy, smiling as you smack his chest.

“You’re really hopeless, yunno that?”

You could call him as many names as you wanted, he’d take them all as endearments. As long as you keep teasing him with promises of sober kisses and your hands in his hair.

He nods, “Now call me your puppy again.”

stranger things masterlist

[edenesth]

[7:16 AM]

"I'm gonna dieeee," you wailed, curling up on the couch. Pouting, you glanced over at Jongho, who was busy preparing breakfast—or at least you thought so—in the kitchen of your shared apartment.

He snorted and shook his head. "You say that every month, yet here you are, alive and well time and time again."

"Would it hurt to console me a little? Try being a woman for a month and see how you like it." With a scoff, you reached for a pillow, ready to throw it at him, but a wave of cramps hit your lower half. Wincing, you clutched the soft material close and waited for the pain to pass.

Damn it, being a woman sucked. If you get pregnant, you suffer for nine months. If you don't, you still suffer every month. Why did you have to be a woman? Life would be so much easier if you were a man. Like that bastard standing there, engrossed in whatever he was doing, neglecting his poor girlfriend who was in so much pain—

"Here you go, babe. I got you your heat pad."

Oh.

Suddenly, you felt guilty for thinking of him that way when all he had been trying to do was ensure your comfort. Your lips quivered as you reached out to him with grabby hands. Damn your period mood swings; they were driving you insane.

His eyes widened in panic at your tears as he rushed over, kneeling beside you and gently pressing the pad onto your stomach, knowing exactly where to hold it by now. One hand on your tummy, the other instinctively cupped your face. "What is it, babe? Are you hungry? I can make you something to eat."

You shook your head, mumbling, "No, that's too much work."

He hummed thoughtfully. "I can cut you some apples, at least?"

"Break them in half, you mean."

He nodded. "Yeah, or that too."

Just as he moved to stand up, presumably to go break some apples, you whined and tugged on his hand. "No, you idiot. I don't need anything else. I just want you to stay here with me… please."

Your boyfriend finally understood the cause of your morning grumpiness. Though your period cramps were always terrible and tended to affect your mood, today you appeared even more restless than usual. He softened as he realised his mistake in fussing over you when all you really wanted was for him to stay by your side.

"Hey, hey, it's okay. I'm here now. I'll stay with you for as long as you need me to," he whispered, settling beside you and pulling your smaller frame close. His heart fluttered when you immediately snuggled up to him as if it were second nature.

"Good, then stay forever," you murmured, leaning up to kiss his jaw. He gave you a comforting squeeze, his heart skipping a beat at your words. Pressing his lips against your head, he nuzzled his face into your hair, wondering why he hadn't done this sooner.

"Maybe I will," he said, savouring the feeling of you in his arms, pressed against him. The soft sensation of your breath on his skin, the warmth radiating from you, the rise and fall of your chest against his side, and the dreamy way you looked up at him—all of it made him think that staying like this forever wouldn't be so bad. "Be careful what you wish for. You'd better not grow tired of me when I do cling to you forever."

You bit your lip. "Never, Choi Jongho. I'll never get tired of you." With that, you sealed the promise with a kiss that seemed to make all the period cramps in the world disappear.

ATEEZ Masterlist

The way I'm tired asf but felt the need to get this out of my system before going to bed. It's that time of the month for me HAHA I'm in pain and honestly, nothing makes me feel better than being delulu🤡

Anyways, hope y'all enjoyed this random little timestamp and as always, let me know your thoughts! <3

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All Rights Reserved © edenesth // DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, PLAGIARISE OR REPURPOSE.

[love-toxin]

just read your latest billy fic and am now obsessed with the idea of billy babytrapping you and/or having a massive, unhinged breeding kink. in his mind you won't ever leave him if he gets you pregnant.

(please bear with my ramblings below)

billy obsessively tracking your cycle and going at it like rabbits when you're ovulating. sex that goes on for HOURS because he wants to get multiple loads inside of you, just to be sure. plugging you up afterward so all his cum stays inside. constantly telling you what a good parent you would be, and how beautiful your children would be because he's pretty, and you're pretty, so it just makes sense, right?

I really think he'd get so delusional about it. burying his face in your arousal and insisting he can tell you're fertile just by the smell/taste. bending down to whisper in your ear only to tell you how full and achey his balls are getting. leaving you little gifts but they're all pregnancy tests or baby clothes. forget whatever stage of a relationship or situationship you guys are in, he's starting a family with you. he'd get such an ecstatic glint in his eye when you finally tell him you're pregnant. don't get me started on the pregnant belly worship.

tl;dr if billy fucks me and I'm not sitting in a puddle of his cum afterwards, I don't want it‼️🗣

PRRRRRR!!!! yes. im into it. now u have to bear with MY ramblings

(cws: babytrapping, fem pronouns)

Feels like babytrapper Billy is an untapped gold mine--it's less that he wants a baby at first and mostly just that he wants control over you, but that switches up real fast when you actually get knocked up. When you actually wanna be sweet about it. Fussing about cribs and a nursery and having enough baby clothes, making him take you to the ultrasound appointments and actually getting a 'tude with him because he did this to you and now he's gonna have to deal with just as much as you have to carrying his baby.

But Billy ends up loving the shit out of it. He loves your attitude. He loves your mood swings. He loves your hormonal cravings and your tears when you throw up morning after morning. He loves holding your hair back and stuffing your bed full of pillows so you're comfortable, and he loves laying his head on your belly and hearing those little gurgles and feeling those little kicks from his baby.

At the same time, however, it makes him emotional. If this is how he feels before his baby is even here, then why would...how could his father ever treat him the way he does, and did? How could anybody do that to a kid? It makes him angry at himself for the way he was treated and the way he took that out on Max, too. He's got lots of apologies to make. Those experiences don't take up all his attention, though--he has a pretty partner to care for now, and having that to fill his time over bouncing from party to party and girl to girl just to feel something makes him unbelievably satisfied.

It honestly makes him glad that he never knocked anyone up accidentally leading up to when he met you. It had to be you, he knows that now. It had to be you that he coerced, begged, and fucked into submission to make you his, it had to be your womb that he wanted so badly to break and your pussy he wanted to risk going raw into. Wouldn't you just be the cutest with a baby, anyways? You're such a catch and you're so pretty. You'd make such adorable babies. It's obvious he never wanted to be one of those guys with a handful of baby mamas and kids he rarely sees; he wants you and your kids and that's it. It's official--you've hooked Hawkins' resident playboy into a dedicated partner and father, whether you wanted to or not.

If there's one thing he loves most about your pregnancy though, it's that he loves your neediness. He loves that something seems to click in you that makes you pine for the man whose seed you've sown, like there's an invisible connection between you two that pulls you both closer. It's like you're instinctually drawn to him and he hopes, god he hopes that continues after you've had the baby. He's ready to make love to a woman after she's had a child (after you've healed sufficiently, of course, he can wait) it's like that next stage of maturity for him. He can't wait to see how far you've come and how much you've sacrificed just to have his baby, and he can't wait to look you in the eyes and tell you he wants another. No, he doesn't want you to work off the baby weight first or fuss with your hair or your clothes to try and get back to looking like you were before. He wants you now. As you are. Raw. He's sick of those prissy party-girl snobs and their perfect bodies and their permed hair that they can't let get messed up. He wants the woman who stays up all night feeding his daughter and rolls her eyes at his flirting attempts in the morning. He's totally whipped, and even with those bags under your eyes and that tension headache behind his from the crying of his precious baby girl, he still wants another. And he's got ways of making sure that you do, too...after all, he got you into it the first time, right?

[wri0thesley]

SO glad someone else is in the "Just the tip" hole, so here I am like a little kid, cupping my hands for any spare thoughts (preferrably anyone besides Sampo), if you have any to share? 🤲🖤

loni i was going to write a post anyway but being able to reply to asks with my thoughts - proof that there is Demand (tm!) makes me feel SO much better about the brainrot!!! i have many thoughts abt sampo too so i am eagerly awaiting ur drabble, just the tip is really a concept of all time!

ft: gepard, welt, himeko, serval, jing yuan, luocha cw: reader is afab with no pronouns used. public sex (luocha), straps, sex toys (himeko and serval), a little size kink (jing yuan), a little soft dom (welt). not sfw, minors dni.

Gepard doesn't quite realise how big he is. He's not got all that much experience; he's never really thought about it, far too busy with all of the responsibilities that come hand in hand with being Captain of the Silvermane Guards. So when your eyes widen and your fingers can't quite meet when you wrap them around his length, he lets out a ragged breath and a moan and pushes his cock between your thighs. You have to breathlessly curl your fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck and whisper out his name. He's already on the edge just by being close to you. The silky softness of your thighs, the inviting shine of your lips and the way that arousal makes your eyes blow dark and wide - when you whisper softly into his ear; "I don't know if I can take it, Gepard . . . J-just the tip, alright? Go slow--", he worries that he's about to embarrass himself right there and then and come before he's even gotten inside of you.

You whine and whimper as he slowly pushes you open, your wetness smearing all over the ruddy head of his cock. Your fingers tighten in his hair even as a soft strangled noise falls from Gepard's own mouth and he struggles to not ram himself inside of you - you have no idea how good you feel. How hot and tight and wet and perfect the embrace of your walls clinging to him is, even on just the head of his cock.

But he did not get where he is by not having self-control. His muscular arms, corded with scars from practise battles and real battles alike, cage you in on the bed beneath him. He looks at you like someone who cannot believe how lucky he is.

"I'll wait here," he promises you, his voice lust-soaked and cracking with the effort. "As long as you need me to."

Welt sees how your lip trembles, how you take in a slow, steadying breath, and he cannot help his desire to take care of you a little. To coddle you and fuss over you, to make the most of the age and experience that he has and you do not. So he smiles at you, crow's feet crinkling the edges of his eyes behind his glasses, and traces the pout of your bottom lip with his thumb. His voice is patient and soft when he speaks to you.

"I'll go slowly," he tells you, as he gently slaps his cock against your wet folds where you sit on his desk before him, animation sketches and research papers pushed to one side in favour of the tempting treat that is your body. He has spent so much of his time working - nobody could blame him for taking a break and finding himself again in the silky tightness of someone younger and prettier than he himself is. "Just the tip first."

"Alright, Mr Yang," you breathe to him, your hands locking about his neck, urging him forward. You sigh as the head nudges your clit, as his precome mingles with your own slick arousal. You're a sensitive mess already - Welt is certainly not the kind of man who'd leave a partner unsatisfied, and his fingers and his tongue have already learnt every petal-soft fold of you, every spot that makes you shiver and whimper until you'd had to bite into his shoulder to stop your cries waking up every other crew member of the Express.

Slowly, slowly, carefully, he eases into you. Watches with rapt attention every movement of your body; the stretch of your cunt as it accepts him, until your hips are wriggling and squirming and you're tugging on his shoulders.

"Mr Yang," you're saying to him, your lip trembling, your shoulders racked with gasps. A whine leaks into your tone as he rests the head of his cock inside of you, enjoying the feel of it. Your sex pulses around the modicum of his length inside of you, fluttering, waiting to be fully claimed. "It's -- it's not enough!"

Welt laughs softly and presses a kiss on the top of your head that is almost paternal in its comfort - a reminder that he's old enough to be your father, your grandfather--

His voice is soft with just a hint of admonishment in it.

"You're really going to have to learn some patience."

Himeko has you wrapped around her little finger, but that doesn't mean that you don't eye the toy that she shows you with a little trepidation. She laughs at you when you do, pulling you into her, kissing you with the taste of coffee on her tongue as she talks you into her bed.

"If you're frightened of it," she's saying, even as your mouth is going dry as you watch her disrobe, "We'll go as slow as you need, darling. We'll start with just the tip."

You lose the ability to speak at the sight of her, auburn curls tumbling down her back and over the milky pale spill of her breasts and shoulders. Bathed in the starlight from her cabin window, she's unearthly, and your entire body sings out with desire for her. She smiles when she sees you looking.

"Always such a flatterer," she teases affectionately, as she wraps the toy carefully around the curve of her hips. It looks just as striking on her as everything else does. "Now, you just lie back. I've done this before. Let Himeko handle it, hmm?"

You're helpless to a command from the beautiful navigator, and you let yourself fall back on the pillows as she walks towards you with all of the elegance of somebody who knows exactly how lovely she is. She gives you a soft smile, her golden eyes gentle in the light, even as she gathers herself onto her knees and her fingers lightly dance over your bare skin. Electric pinpricks of desire radiate from every touch.

"Aren't you beautiful?" She muses to herself, as she wraps her hand around the toy and pumps it a few times - when it comes away, you see there's something thick and clear and viscous dripping from it. She laughs softly again when she sees you looking.

"You're already wet," she whispers to you, in a low, musical voice. "But if you're still nervous . . . well, there's nothing wrong with a little help, is there?"

Her fingers dance over your skin. She knows every part of you intimately by now; the spot on your stomach, the way you whimper when she pinches your nipples, the place on your hips that makes you breathe in a deep sigh and your own lashes flutter. Through her touches, she keeps murmuring soft platitudes to you - how pretty you look like this, for her. What a precious treasure you are. How she can't wait for you to come apart--

And by the time she is sliding the tip of the toy inside of you and you are fair dizzy with want, you can do nothing but whisper out her name. She leaves the tip of the toy inside of you, smiling down, as patient and beautiful and dazzling as ever.

"I told you," she murmurs, as her long fingers return to pluck and play with your nipples, and you get used to the new stretch of having something thicker than Himeko's fingers inside of you. "We'll go as slow as you need. Any new territory worth exploring is worth doing . . ." She leans down, her mouth full and soft and wet as it meets yours and you whine into it. "Thoroughly."

Serval is a tease. You'd known she was up to something the moment you'd stepped into the workshop and she'd flipped the sign to 'closed' with a feline grin on her face as she'd beckoned you over to her and told you she could really use your help with some new gadget she was tinkering with.

So now, as she has you bent over her workbench with something vibrating pressed in the valley between the folds of your sex, the tip pressed just so - buzzing and tingling - against the swollen pearl of your clit, it's all you can do to keep your fingers tight around the edge of the workbench and your knees locked so you don't collapse.

"Kitten," Serval is purring, her hips slowly rocking back and forth, the phallic toy strapped to her hips rubbing through the wet mess of your cunt. "Don't you like it? I made it thinking of you!"

Your words come out garbled, a mess of moans and sighs. Your own hips thrust back when she pulls away, trying to get her to keep the toy pressed against your clit for long enough for you to get off. Instead, she just laughs, nipping at your bare shoulder.

"You're getting desperate," she teases you, her voice deep and throaty and satisfied. "Beg me, kitten, and we'll see what I can do for you."

"Serval--" Your voice comes out a whine. "Please . . ."

Her clever fingers, calloused palms, slide down your bare skin, leaving electric zaps wherever they touch you. You shudder under her practised touch - you are an instrument, and Serval has already proved she is a master musician.

"Seeing as you asked so nicely," she says to you, and you sense the wicked cat-like grin on her mouth. "How about I give you just the tip?"

"Not enough--"

"You're getting greedy!" The buzzing toy slides a scant inch inside of you without the smallest hint of resistance; you're wet enough from the teasing already. You can feel your own arousal dripping down your thighs, and Serval sighs happily as she dips one of her fingers between your thighs to toy with your clit as the tip of the toy rests inside of you.

"You're lucky you're so cute," she whispers to you. Her finger slides back and forth over your clit, drawing delicate circles - she always knows how to use them. "Come for me on the tip, and I'll fuck you with the rest of it too."

Jing Yuan's patience has long been mistaken for occasional laziness; but you know better than most that there is nothing of the kind, when it comes to him. And there is certainly nothing of the kind when it comes to trysts like this.

Oh, you and he have gotten used to rushing moments when you can, in between him being needed for meetings and work - but now? In the evening, loose ends tied up, with nothing but one another to spend the night on?

This is a tryst that will last.

Jing Yuan is not lazy - he merely likes to take his time. For a man whose being is tied up in his past warfare, he knows how to handle delicate things like you - but that doesn't mean he's going to rush it. Not when you look so pretty laid out like this for him, clothes rumpled and discarded beneath you, looking up at him with your eyes all soft and wanting and your mouth aching to be kissed.

He hums beneath his breath as he lets his mouth learn the shape of yours; pushes you gently back when you try and kiss deeply into him, to make him hurry up. His cock nudges against your inner thigh and he sighs a slow, indolent sigh of pleasure that makes your heart beat double time in your chest.

"We have all of the time in the world, little bird," he tells you, with an insouciant smile on his face. Your face scrunches, an adorable expression of impatience taking over your features, and he smiles down at you like someone looking at the finest treasure in the world.

"Impatient," he chides you, but there's nothing but warmth in his tone when it comes to you. His hands find your thighs, digging into the soft skin as he parts them. Warm eyes like pools of molten gold find your core, and he sighs as he looks at you. You squirm under his gaze, and as he softly leans down and lets some of his own saliva drip onto your cunt, you whimper at the feel. "This is impatient, too," He says to you, and laughs. "Drooling all over the place. Mm. Is that how much it wants me?"

"I want you," you respond to him, mouth petulant. Jing Yuan shakes his head fondly at you but readjusts himself, hand around his cock to guide it to your sex. He taps the thick head softly against your clit until you squirm, pouting. "Jing Yuan--"

"Ah, I know, I know," he looks down at where the two of you are not yet joined. "I'm always reminded how . . . small you are, when I look down at you like this."

"It will fit," you insist to him, and he raises one eyebrow.

"Oh, I know it will," he tells you, still smiling at you. "But it's a tight one, isn't it?"

"Jing Yuan, you're stalling--!"

He laughs again.

"Ha. My apologies, little bird." Slowly, he guides his cock to your opening - resting it against there, just for a moment. Exactly as he said, he seems so much bigger than you - his tip thick and blunt and rounded, your entrance small even as your hole pulses and oozes slick in preparation for him. "I simply like looking at you."

"There's something you'd like more than just looking," you encourage him, and he shakes his head so that his mane of hair falls over his shoulders.

"You're incorrigible," he tells you - and then he is pushing forth into you, and your mind goes white of anything but the feel of Jing Yuan inside of you, his cock, your cunt, where they meld together and you become one--

Wait.

Why has he stopped?

"Jing Yuan--!"

He swallows your cry of his name with a kiss that is anything but lazy, tongue exploring your mouth, teeth tugging at your bottom lip until you're dizzy with it all. He tastes, just a little, like sweets.

He pulls back just enough to look at you half-lidded, the tip of his cock just stretching you out.

"I'm merely taking my time," he tells you. "Whilst I have it."

Luocha is mean, you think, even as his words remain unfailingly genteel. Even as his face remains a polite mask, he leaves his cock not-quite inside of you as you tremble against the wall he has you bodily pressed up against.

"Please," you breathe out to him, teary-eyed, lip trembling. "Y-you can't just leave it there--"

He cocks one eyebrow, his face unfairly pretty - unfairly unruffled, even with the tip of his cock buried in you. He's unfailingly still - almost as if the hot tightness of your cunt pulsing around him has no effect on him whatsoever. One long, elegant hand curves around your cheek as a small smile pulls at the corner of his lips.

He's big. You can't help but squirm against the concrete, your cunt wrapped around only the head of his cock but feeling like you've taken far, far more.

"We're in public," he says to you, voice just a little condescending. "If I were to go about this more . . . vigorously, surely you wouldn't want the attention of every person in the vicinity on you?"

Your own need feels like a thrum inside of you. It's hard to think, as Luocha moves his hips the barest fraction and you find yourself whining aloud. Firmly, he moves the hand on your cheek so that it's pressed over your mouth, muffling your noises.

"You can't take more than this," he tells you, voice calm and patient. "Not here. Not now."

You whimper into his gloved palm, tears beading in your eyes like little diamonds. Even that doesn't seem to move him, though he tips his head to one side, vaguely considering. He moves his hand just enough for you to take a breath, and whisper beseechingly;

"I-if not here . . . will you do it somewhere else?"

He laughs only one soft, musical little noise. He leans in close, his breath cool against your neck.

"Mm . . . but when you ask like that--"

You cry out as he pushes another inch of himself into you, eyes widening as the noise breaks the calm, cool air. Luocha pauses.

"Oh dear," he says. "I suppose we'll have to both come quickly then, hmm?"

[its-time-to-write]

hi! Could you please write something with like reader opening the door one day when Roy stars knocking for training but reader and Jamie aren’t open about their relationship yet? I think it would be cute xx

I also thought this was cute. Not sure if anyone notices/cares, but all my titles are song lyrics based ever so loosely on the vibe I am trying to convey. Thanks for another great request!

what it is

Someone’s aggressively knocking on the door and as you roll over to check the time. It’s 4am, and you poke Jamie who is fast asleep beside you.

“Babe,” you whisper, “someone’s at the door.”

Jamie groans and mumbles something incoherent. As your eyes adjust to the darkness, you can tell something’s off. You reach out your hand and feel his forehead. It’s burning up.

The knocking continues and Jamie lets out another groan and says something that sounds like raining? Oh. Training. You remember he trains every morning at 4, but you’ve never seen who he goes with. He just kisses you in your sleep and is back right as you wake up for the day. 

You roll out of bed, grab one his sweatshirts from the floor, and pad downstairs to the door.

You swing open the door mid-knock. The man on the other side lowers his fist, looks at you all squinty for a moment, then says, “Who the fuck’re you?”

You return the look. “I live here. Who the fuck are you?”

The man scoffs. “No, you fucking don’t. This is Jamie Tartt’s house. Jesus fucking Christ, is he fucking blowing off training because of a fucking one-night stand?”

Oh. You know who this is. This is Roy Kent. You didn’t know he was the one training Jamie, but you guess it makes sense based on how much Jamie talks about him. It’s Roy Kent this, and Roy Kent that, and Roy says I need to eat more protein, and Roy said my hair looked funny today, does it look funny to you? 

You sigh. You and Jamie have been together for three months, and you basically live at his house. You’re really only at your flat to change clothes. You have a toothbrush, pajamas, and half a wardrobe at Jamie’s. Your books have started to make their way onto his shelves too, as you read them and then leave them for him to start. That was a little bit of an accident at first, after you left This Side of Paradise one night and came back to a different bookmark on page 34.

Anyway, Roy Kent doesn’t know you’re dating Jamie, or that anyone is. You suppose in his mind, Jamie is happily single, fucking around like the twenty-something year old footballer he is. 

Roy is still looking at you expectantly, so say, “I do live here. Why don’t you come in?” and hold open the door a bit wider. 

Roy’s face says fuck it, and he follows you inside to the kitchen. 

“Can I get you some tea?” you ask quietly, although Jamie can sleep through anything. 

Roy seems surprised by the question, but says, “Yeah, sure,” as he stands by the kitchen island.

“Jamie’s sick,” you say. “He’s still asleep upstairs. I doubt he’ll be up for training today.”

“Right, yeah,” says Roy, “I’m sorry, but who the fuck are you? Jamie’s not fucking supposed to be doing the whole one-night stand thing, he told me it’s too fucking distracting from training.”

You chuckle. “That’s comedy gold right there. Yeah, no, I’m not a one-night stand. I’m his girlfriend.”

Roy’s impressive eyebrows lift in shock, and you laugh again and give him your name. “Didn’t know I existed, did you? I’m not one for crowds or a big fuss. I told Jamie if we made it four months than he could start telling people. He was a little upset, but,” you shrug, “no point in making it a big deal if we just break up, right?”

You can practically see the wheels turning in Roy’s brain as he does the math.

“So you’re telling me that you’ve been fucking dating this little prick for three fucking months, and he hasn’t fucking said anything?”

You nod. 

“Fuckkk,” Roy whispers, “that makes so much fucking sense.”

You quirk an eyebrow at him.

“He’s been less of a prick recently,” Roy explains, “More considerate, been carrying around fucking books and shit. Not fucking flirting with everything that fucking moves. Thought maybe he was just taking beating Zava too fucking seriously.”

You nod and move to pour the tea. You and Roy both turn as you hear footsteps coming down the stairs. It’s Jamie, who is wearing a headlamp, pajama shirt, athletic vest, and a single sock. And, thank God, pants.

“Ready for training coach,” he says with a salute, but the action almost makes him fall over. He looks all pale and sweaty, with bags under his eyes.

“Told you he was sick,” you say.

“Fuckin’ hell,” is all Roy can come up with.

Jamie seems to notice you for the first time and breaks out into a smile. “Roy! Look! I have a girlfriend,” he says, words a little slurred while pointing to you.

It’s punctuated by a “Jesus Christ,” from Roy as Jamie wobbles, unsteady on his feet from his fever.

“Alright, mister,” you say. “Back to bed.”

Jamie frowns. “Always so mean,” he says. He does an imitation of your voice, “No Jamie, you can’t tell Roy about us. Yes Jamie, I know Roy’s your best friend. No Jamie, I don’t think you love Roy more than me.” He looks at Roy as you sling his arm around your shoulders, supporting him at his waist. He puts his fingertips on your lips as he says, “See what I have to put up with?”

You roll your eyes and suppress a smile as Roy says, “What you have to put up with?”

Jamie is so loopy right now. He lays his head on yours and smiles again. “Look at this. Me two favorite people, finally meeting. You should stay for dinner, coach.”

Roy rolls his eyes and shakes his head. You can tell he’s trying not to laugh as you both mutually decide not to point out that it is now 4:30am and dinner is a long, long way away.

“Let’s go get you out of those clothes and into bed,” you say as you start to lead him back to your room. 

Jamie casts a look back at Roy and wiggles his eyebrows. “Babe, you can’t just say things like that in front of granddad. Might give him a heart attack. Old people are such prudes.”

“Go to sleep, Tartt,” Roy says. He looks at you and says softly, “I can see myself out.”

You smile and wave with your free hand. “It was nice to meet you,” you say. “Hopefully we can meet again under more normal circumstances.”

Roy nods once and does what you think is a smile? He turns and heads out the door as you maneuver Jamie upstairs. Jamie Tartt has a girlfriend. And a good one at that. What is the world coming to?

[cinnamonest]

I do want to also continue my primary momcon storyline at one point, but with the recent delinquent/bully Ajax posts I am now contemplating modern small town au delinquent Ajax but instead of student/classmate it's momcon…

Poor single mom who is already judged and ostracized by the small town community for being a single mom who had her baby way too young, unmarried, and with a deadbeat at that, made so much worse by the fact that your precious baby boy is a notorious problem child, treated as a menace and threat to the entire town. Hearing people mutter about how that's what happens when some girl that can't keep her legs shut has a kid with no father, how the whole household is messed up in the head, how his lack of inhibition must be hereditary.

Everyone knows him, and by extension, everyone knows you. Who you are, what your marital status is, the fact that you’re the mother of the town menace. You were hoping to live quietly, avoiding negative judgement as much as possible, but unfortunately, that proves not doable when your son is constantly drawing attention to himself in the worst of ways.

You’re always profusely apologizing whenever you get called to the school, bowing your head and squeezing your eyes shut as you promise for the umpteenth time that you'll talk with him and that it won't happen again, unable to look the faculty in the eye, knowing from experience how much their disdainful, judgmental glares hurt. Knowing what they're thinking in their heads even if they don't say it out loud, what they probably say to each other once you leave. How it's your fault, how you have no control over your child.

Or that one line that still hurts you to think about, that time you overheard two other moms with kids on the playground mutter about how they do this or that with their children, or how they would never have a kid without a present father — or else they turn out like that kid…

You were told that once before to your face, back when he was little — that you needed to hurry up and find a step father for him, or else he'll become a bad kid — because he's a boy and everyone knows boys don't obey their mothers the way they do fathers, you know? Sure they love them and all, but once he gets older he's going to start seeing you as small and weak, socialized by other boys and culture into feeling superior to you, and everyone knows that turns into blatant disregard for your authority.

But it's because of him that you can't — you tried, but he always drove away every man you dated, always reacted very badly whenever you got a new boyfriend, being mean and hitting and kicking and setting up cruel pranks and making the man miserable until he told you he couldn't do it anymore and left you alone again. Eventually it gets to be too much for you to handle, and you resign yourself to give up for now, maybe try again when he’s older and mature enough to have a serious discussion on the matter.

Or maybe wait until he’s grown and moved out — if that ever happens, seeing as when you bring up the future, he insists that he’ll stay here and take care of you, says I could never go off somewhere and leave you here by yourself, Mama.

Regardless, you do try and work with him, get him to behave better, but you just can’t. It’s incredibly frustrating. Everything you say goes in one ear, out the other (maybe those people had a point when they said he wouldn't respect your authority). You fuss at him as you wrap the little band-aids all over each of his fingers where they’re scraped up from the fight of the day, but he just smiles, seems to not really be paying any attention, just happy to have your attention and see you worrying over him.

He always dismisses you with ease, promising you he’ll do better and won’t beat anyone up again, but you can very easily tell he doesn’t really mean it at all. And his actions follow suit — you often get a phone call from the school the very next day.

He doesn't really have friends anyway, your attempts to get him to socialize with other kids always ended up leading to fights instead. But that's okay, he doesn't need friends, he says, he has his Mama.

You do feel like it's your fault. Why did he become so violent? Surely you did something wrong. But at the same time, you don't feel like you did anything bad to him, because if nothing else, Ajax is ferociously defensive of you.

You lose count of how many times, after being called in about yet another fight, your son proudly tells you he was defending your honor — yes, he may have cracked that boy's skull open against the brick wall of the building, but he only did it because that bastard had the nerve to call his Mama a whore, so he deserved to have his face disfigured like that. Yes, he may have put three kids in the hospital, but only because they were doing the thing teen boys do where they joke about fucking someone's mom, and he couldn't stand for that, he had to teach them a lesson so they think twice before doing that again. And it's true that one time he did stab someone, he'll confess to that, but it was because that guy spread rumors that his Mama was hooking to make money, and he couldn't stand for that.

This becomes a very well-known thing with him, which creates a bit of a conundrum — on one hand, most people learn to shut up about you if there's even a possibility he's within earshot. However, some of the other rowdy, bully-type boys know that talking about Mama is like his berserk-button, a guaranteed way to get a reaction out of him, so they go out of their way to set him off, believing they can just run away before he can get to them. Usually they stop once they get proven wrong about being able to run and get beaten up badly enough, but there's always some kid dumb enough to try, thus the violence is endless.

Not to mention those cases are worse. Normal fights get a visit to the nurse, but if the motive involves you, he's far more violent. The thankfully few, but nonetheless increasing number of times you had to pick him up from jail were almost all related to those fights in particular, that got so out of hand they warranted a teacher or bystander calling for help. Not to mention he's not at all hesitant to hunt offenders down in town to hurt them, away from the school authorities (who are always keeping an eye on him), so he'll get more punches in before a townsperson notices and calls for help.

And much like the school faculty, the law enforcement always gives you these awful, hurtful looks of disdain, a condescending tone in their voices when they ask if you're here to get your kid again and sighing when you nod your head. A few have the nerve to tell you that you really need to do something or else it's only a matter of time before he does something you can't just bail him out of.

And he's always so cheerful when you do come get him. A bit sheepish, apologizes for the inconvenience of you having to drive out here to come get him (not for the act that got him put there in the first place), but otherwise very smiley and touchy and grateful.

Very, very touchy. He's always been like that. He was a cuddly kid, always lifting his arms up in a gesture to be picked up, always clinging to your sleeves. He never went through that phase most boys go through, where they think they're too old to be spending time with their Mom or get embarrassed by affection and push her away or distance themselves from her. You were always grateful for that, it was heartwarming that he always seemed to be proud of you and happy to be seen with you.

But he does get very, very touchy. Always wrapping his arms around you. When you come to school events, visiting distant relatives (who all dislike him, but stopped bringing it up when you got defensive), even when you go grocery shopping (he always comes along, insistent on helping you), he's always coming up behind you, resting his head on your shoulder and keeping his arms looped around you from behind. And sure, he's never stopped kissing you on the mouth and not your forehead or something, but that's normal for some families, right? And it's only for a second, so it's not weird.

People do notice. You see the furrowed eyebrows and wrinkles noses and perplexed expressions, people leaning over to whisper something in another’s ear.

But at the same time, how could you ever bring something like that up? How could you possibly be mad at him for showing you affection? It's not as if you don't like it, it's just somewhat inappropriate in public… but it would surely hurt his feelings if you told him not to, so you say nothing.

You’re so, so grateful for him. He’s always there for you, always so loving, and has never even complained about having to go without a lot of things other people have.

And because he sees you struggling so much financially, by the time he’s a teenager he gets that itch where he feels like he has to prove himself, because how can he just sit back and let his Mama provide for everything, when he’s technically The Man of the household?

So soon enough he’s telling you — rather, insisting, no matter what you say — that he wants to help you pay for expenses.

It’s not consistently timed, but every now and then, he sometimes comes home to pull wads of cash out of his pockets, handed over to you with a sweet smile… and where did he get that money? Don’t worry about it, is all he’ll willingly say.

You know there’s no way anyone in this small little town would willingly hire him, since everyone knows who he is, and he’s coming back around the same time as he normally would… except sometimes he goes out in the evenings every now and then for just a few hours, when he never did that before, and takes his bag with him for some reason, and you know now that you think about it you recall the local news talking about a string of break-in thefts and increase in drug usage and — no, no, you know what? You decide to not think about it. Your mind has had as much as you can handle and you decide to tell yourself your beloved baby boy has some lucrative job he just never talks about for some reason or another. If you can convince yourself of that, well, that’s the first step to blissful ignorance, so you just cup his face in your hands and kiss his sweet face and tell him you’re so thankful and how much you love him and feel your heart melt when he looks so happy and proud of himself for you saying so.

But because he’s at least starting to show some self-awareness, understanding money issues and such, you figure this is a good time to get him invested in his own future.

You’re also a little worried about said future, given that the prospects for partnership in such a rural place are already sparse. Since everyone knows him, people guard their daughters and watch him like a hawk, tell them to stay the hell away from that boy, and they do listen, keep their distance. This troubles you, you bring it up to him — if you get a bad reputation, you’ll scare all the girls away! — and for once, he actually has some reaction.

But you’re not scared of me, are you?

Of course, you coo and fuss and say of course not — he's your baby, even if he hurts others, he's always so soft and sweet to you — and that seems to make him content, and anything you say about future prospects thereafter goes ignored.

Well, he ignores anything about prospects for him, at least. It's a different story when it comes to you.

Because the subject does come up once again. If you can just get a wealthy man, you say one day, you can easily make life so much easier for the both of you. You could get him a good education without debt, really set him up to have a bright future.

But the moment you mention it, his expression contorts with some amalgamation of shock, disgust, outrage, concern. He shakes his head and grabs you so firmly by your shoulders and says you can't be serious.

He'll be fine without college. No other man is going to appreciate you like he does. Love you like he does. No way can he let some guy just come in and invade the space you two have always shared. It would feel wrong, it would feel so foreign to him to have someone else living here when it's always been just you two. Besides, so many men would just use you, hurt you, leave you, he doesn't want to see you get hurt — and he'd never hurt you.

He's insistent, actually, on not going off to study. He wants to stay home, he says. He can't just leave you all alone! You'll be so lonely and you might replace him with another man— ah, you might get a boyfriend, and he couldn't be there to keep the guy in line.

And if some other man hurt you— well, he would do something really really bad, something that would get him locked up for a long time.

You don't want that, do you?

Because then, if some guy dumps you — which would inevitably happen, that's just how guys are, they'd use you and leave once they got bored or decided to replace you.

Like Dad, he says.

And sure enough, you tense up — he knows exactly what to say to make his words sting, he knows how much it hurts you, knows it's digging up pain you've tried to bury. You want to think he wouldn't do that on purpose. He's just distressed and the words came out without thinking.

But that pain is the hook to get you to listen. Because, he says, then if he goes away too, you'll be all alone without him. You'll have no one, and everyone in town already judges you, how would you ever survive without him? You need him, don't you? Could you really deal with the guilt of knowing it's your fault he would be locked up?

You try to reason with him, and his grip on your shoulders grows so tight it hurts.

For the first time, you feel a little scared of him, as he looks down at you — when did your baby boy get so much taller than you? — with a dark look in his eyes.

You find yourself shrinking back. Stammering out a soft little okay, nodding your head, saying you understand. You can feel your heartbeat in your throat.

And with that, he's immediately back to normal, smiley and happy and relieved you understand. He just doesn't want you to get hurt, is all. Because he loves you. You know that, right?

As long as you stay with him and him alone, he won't have any reason to really hurt someone. So, you know, his future hinges on your decisions, because he just can't help himself when it comes to defending you.

But that’s unlikely to happen on its own (everyone avoids you because of him and all), which is why you'd have to deliberately choose to pursue another man, which would make what happens your fault. He'll chase off any guys that get too close on their own.

Just don't put him in a position where he's forced to kill someone, and everything will be fine. You'll always have him, after all.

[hey-hey-j]

anyway it's 9pm no one will see this post but I am once again rambling about the BroZone breakup

specifically, about Floyd just kinda lingering in the background of the scene, not getting involved in the argument between JD, Bruce, and Clay until the end when they're all storming out

and how Bruce and Clay just kinda leave without giving Floyd much of a thought, and okay from a meta standpoint this is probably just condensed writing so that we can focus on the interaction between Floyd and Branch but from a headcanon standpoint.....

it feels like, by this point in the band, everyone is so used to Floyd making himself small and not interfering with their fights until things get heated, that they don't really think to ask Floyd how he feels about the situation. Not because they don't care, but more like.....

....they don't think Floyd is that fussed? Precisely because he's so good at stomping down his own feelings to focus on being the family therapist? It's the curse of being "the Sensitive One," the mediator, the glue that holds the whole family together. Not to quote Madagascar on a Trolls meta post, but it's like this: "you've helped me so often to see the bright side of my problems, that I don't think of you as having any"

and obviously this isn't to say that Bruce and Clay aren't aware that Floyd has his own issues going on within their family dynamic but I don't know, man! They have their own stuff going on! They're all suffocating and they're all young adults and they don't know how to resolve conflict healthily! And Floyd is the original baby of the family! They're not going to press him on those issues until much, much later, when they're all older and Floyd has an entirely new and different mountain of trauma on top of his lingering childhood hangups.

anyway the bottom line is that they all need a heaping helping of family therapy

[run-clever-boy]

Hey! Could I request some Twelve smut? Maybe when he was blind/relying on touch a lot? Thanks in advance love you bye!

I have been wanting to write something like this for SOOOO long!! Thank you sm!!!! I’m so sorry that this took me forever to write, hope you are satisfied!!

also on AO3

Inch by Inch - 12th Doctor x Reader

Blind! 12th doctor x Fem!Companion!Reader

Words: 3,247

Summary: The doctor is having a tough time dealing with the complications of being blind. A companion of his and a very understanding reader is willing to help him navigate, but will he let her?

Warnings: Smut!! Minors DNI!!!, Oral Sex (Fem Receiving), Unprotected sex (0/10 do not recommend), Nipple play, dirty talk if you squint

You walked out of your room on the TARDIS as you heard some clambering downstairs. You assumed the doctor got into something he shouldn’t have and wanted to make sure he wasn’t hurt.

“Doctor! Wait a minute stay where you are! I’m coming!” You yell down stairs as you come running down.

You abandon trying to put on your t-shirt, considering he can’t see you anyway. You start picking up the pace in your bra and sleep shorts. You tried not to think about the fact that you would be so exposed in front of the man you’ve admired (More romantically than you care to admit) for years. It was the middle of the night after all, but you knew the doctor never slept.

You run into the console room to see the doctor surrounded by bits and pieces of some alien technology you didn’t recognize. What was most important was that he was lying on the ground, and you needed to help him.

You rush over and grab him by the arm to pull him up and onto one of the chairs surrounding the console. “Doctor? Doctor are you alright??” You say worriedly, checking over his figure to make sure he isn’t injured. “What were you doing up?”

“I’m fine, Y/n, I promise” He says, stopping your frantic hands with his own, smoothing over your skin with his own. “Even with the glasses, the depth perception just isn’t on point” He says, his hand moving further up your arm.

“I am getting a med kit, there is no way you haven’t hurt yourself by now” You say, trying to get him steady. Once he looks steady you quickly turn on your heels and hear an exasperated sigh behind you as you leave to get the kit.

You return just as quickly as you left, walking quickly to ensure he doesn’t do anything stupid. You see him exactly where you left him. You can see him lean back against the console, clearly exhausted.

“You there y/n?” He questions

“Any time you need me, I will be” you quip back. You take out the neosporin and bandaids you loaded up a med kit with and help him fix up the scrapes on his hands. He scratched those up most often when he would try to catch himself as he ran into items around the TARDIS, despite the amount of clutter you cleaned up for him.

You help him up onto a chair that sat near the console, grabbing onto his arm firmly for support. He settles in the chair and takes his glasses off, running his hands over his eyes. You can see just how exhausted he is. You know that time lords don’t need hardly any sleep, but you assume the blindness has been taking its toll on him.

“Are you alright now doctor?” You ask timidly.

“I’m fine, you don’t need to fuss over me. In fact, I truly hate it when people fuss over me. You worry too much-”

“I worry with reason, doctor.” You interrupt.

He stops for a second, and exhales. “But you shouldn’t have to” he says quietly. His voice is shaky and there was a different inflection behind that than you expected. He can’t look you in the eye, but you know it’s not just his sight that’s bothering him.

“Doctor, what’s wrong?”

“You shouldn’t have to worry about me, Y/n. I’m supposed to take care of you, that’s how this works” He replies somberly. He can’t look you in the eye but he somehow finds you hand and holds it in both of his own.

“Doctor you do so much, I can take care of you too”

He brings your hand up to his lips gently. He stands up and brings you up to stand with him. He runs his hand along the seat to find his glasses and puts them back on, hitting a button on the side that presumably helps him navigate.

“I appreciate your help more than you know, Y/n. I have been a burden and I know that, please don't protest that. It's not easy having to take care of a stubborn blind man."

You chuckle a little. There was no doubt that he was stubborn. Even more so now that he was blind.

"Follow me" He says, squeezing your hand and turning to go down the stairs and into the halls of the TARDIS.

"I feel like that should be the other way around, Stevie Wonder"

"Shut up"

You can hear his smile in his voice as he says it. He very carefully weaves in and out of the halls of the TARDIS.

"Where are we going?"

"Surprise" His Scottish accent putting emphasis on the word.

"Well aren't we 'doctor mysterio' today” You quip back quietly. He turns his head and gives you the ‘shut up’ look. (Well almost, the angle was a bit off but you can’t blame him)

He arrives at a dark blue door, with some gold circular Galifreyan details. You recognize the language after spending so many years traveling with the doctor. You’ve seen him write in it once or twice, and you always found it mesmerizing. He’s tracing the pattern on the door with his free hand and you can’t help but stare. He turns the door knob and opens the room then walks in with you still in tow. You are just now able to see the room and look around properly. It’s a bedroom with a large bed in the middle which looks like it hasn’t been touched. It’s perfectly made with TARDIS blue sheets. You turn to see bookshelves filled to the brim with books, records, CDs, and pictures lining every wall. More Gallifreyan detailing is on the ceiling and sparkles like stars in the night. The room takes your breath away. Then everything click in your brain as you turn to face the doctor.

“Is this… your room, doctor?” You ask tentatively.

“It is” He replies. “It’s hardly ever used, other than storage lately. Considering the whole ‘Time lords don’t sleep’ ordeal” He smiles.

“It’s amazing” You say in awe.

“I thought you might like it”

He unclasped his hand from yours and ran it up your arm. You couldn’t help but shudder at the action, but your attempt to hide the shaky breath you let out was futile. He ran his hand down your side in an attempt to be able to guide you around by having his hand on your lower back only to discover that your side was exposed. You chose this particular moment to curse yourself for not putting on your t-shirt before running down stairs.

His movements froze when he felt your skin beneath his fingertips. You can feel you cheeks heat up and it quickly spreads throughout your body as your embarrassment floods through you.

“I- s-sorry” you mutter quietly, looking at the floor and shifting uncomfortably. You are all of a sudden way too aware that his hand still hasn’t left your side.

“What for?” He says quietly.

“Not wearing more, I guess” You stutter through and start nervously laughing.

There is a silence between you for a minute when he suddenly moves his hand against you waist. He finds a good grip against your side and gently pulls you in front of him so he’s facing you.

“That’s no reason to be sorry, Y/n” He says quietly, his face close to yours. “The only regret I have is not being able to see you right now”

You freeze in shock for a few moments. You feel your breath caught in your throat. All you can focus on is how the doctor’s hand is trailing up your side and across your chest. His hand finally stops when it finds the side of your face and his thumb glides over your bottom lip. You stay there frozen, finally letting out the breath you were holding. He could hear the shaky-ness in your voice and smiled at you. He was nervous too, you could tell (As much as he tried to hide it)

Just then you felt him tug you closer and you feel his lips touch yours. You could feel the hesitation in his movements so you pressed back against him. You could feel him instantly relax and get more bold with you. You move your hands up the smooth fabric of his suit jacket and wrap your arms around his neck. The one hand on your waist pulled you to him and you could feel the fabric he was wearing against your skin. You gasp and part your lips, allowing him to deepen the kiss. He felt like he was every where, just overloading your senses. You ran your hands through his hair, needing him closer. You two move backward until your back hits the bookshelves behind you. You wince slightly at the contact not expecting it. He breaks the kiss for a moment, taking a second to breath.

“Are you alright?” He asks, evidently out of breath.

“Yes, god yes” You say, equally out of breath. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this” it comes out as more of a confession than you meant it to be.

“I wish I could see your face, see your reactions to my touch” He says, bending down so the sound of his voice is in your ear. “But feeling you is incredibly worth it”

He kisses behind your ear and down your neck. He stops at your pulse points and sucks a hickey onto your neck and you use all of your self control to not let out the moans threatening to break free. Whimpers keep escaping as his lips work your neck and his hands are tracing your figure and exploring every inch of your body. Savoring every touch. He is running his hands and lips all over you as if to create a mental map of your body and memorize how you react. Certain touches leave you breathless, arching your back, goosebumps along your skin, and heartbeat skyrocketing.

“So responsive, love” He groans into your skin, hiding his cocky smirk behind explorative kisses.

He pulls you closer in an attempt to move to a different location, not that you minded. He guides you in the general direction of his bed, but stumbles as you both hit the edge of it. He uses the opportunity to wrap his broad hands around your waist, stroking your sides up and down from your ribs to your hips. He kisses you feverishly while he clumsily gets himself onto the bed and on top of you as you guide him. You run your hands up the fabric of his suit and gently guide the jacket off of his shoulders. He takes the hint and slips his arm out of it, tossing it carelessly to the side of the room, having no clue where it landed. You reach to unbutton his waistcoat and shirt while he pulls you closer to him by your hips. He helps you with the many buttons on his clothes in between his explorations of your body. You get everything off of his body and run your hands over the pale skin there. You can feel the roughness of him underneath your fingertips as you trace his body. He runs his hands wherever he can reach on you. From your neck, down your body, worshiping your hips and waist, and further down the run his hands over your legs. All he could want right now is to take all the time in the world to commit your every curve to memory.

His hands come underneath you and fumble around, searching for and then unclasping your bra and throwing it to the side. His lips leave yours for a moment and you almost whine at the absence.

“Show me where you want me”

His Scottish brogue is even deeper than normal. His breath is uneven and his attraction is evident within it. You know what he means now, he wants you to guide him.

You tangle your hands in his silver hair and gently pull his lips to your pulse point. He attacks the spot, licking and sucking hard. He moves just under your jaw and hits the amazing spot on your neck and a moan comes flying out of your mouth before you can stop it. He smirks into your skin as you mutter incoherent apologies. Ignoring your words, he puts more work into that spot, nibbling at the sensitive skin there which has you biting your lip in a failed attempt at concealing your whines. Your hips grind on nothing, begging for some sort of attention and the doctor presses his knee between your thighs to give you just that.

He glides his hands over your shorts and slips a finger into your waistband and slides the smooth material down your legs. You skillfully undo his trousers and he kicks them off.

You run your hands down his soft stomach and go to reach under the waistband of his boxers when his hand comes down and catches yours.

“You’ve done enough taking care of me as of late. Let me take care of you”

With that he resumes his kisses to your skin but then ventures them down your body. He roughly kisses the sensitive spots on your collar bone and then kisses the valley between your breasts. He searches for and then palms your tit, then kisses around until he finds you nipple on your other, taking it into his mouth. He licks over the hard bud lightly then puts a sudden but not unwelcome amount of pressure on it with his teeth. His other hand uses his fingers to roll your nipple between his fingers and pinches it allowing the very little pain to morph into complete pleasure. He switches his hand and mouth to give attention to both and you can barely think. Your breaths have run completely ragged and you can’t even bother to try and die down your moans. The whines escaping your lips go straight to the doctor’s cock and you can only imagine how hard he is for you. The inability to see you is only heightening every other sense he has and you are overwhelming them all.

He lowers his attention to your stomach, his hands running down the grope at the sensitive flesh of your inner thighs. He can hear you, touch you, hell even smell you. All he wants to do now is taste you.

He runs his fingers over the cotton fabric of your underwear and you raise your hips involuntarily to meet his touch. He chuckles lightly at your enthusiasm and you curse him for his cockiness in your mind. He decides he’s wasted enough time so he slides your panties off and runs a finger through your folds. He groans when he feels just how wet he made you. He can’t wait any longer.

All of a sudden you can feel him everywhere. Licking stripes up and down all over you. Sucking your clit in his mouth. Sliding fingers around your entrance. It’s incredible and so much to take in at once. He has you bucking your hips into his hands and whining for him. He slides 1 finger into you. It’s just enough for you to squeeze onto. He continues his ministrations while curling that one finger to reach a spot inside of you that you had never felt before. Your eyes rolled back into you head and your back arched. You were so breathless even your moans had turned almost silent. He pressed his weight into your hips to stop their frantic movement as he added another finger which prodded at the most intimate areas he could possibly find. You didn’t even have time to think about the embarrassment that came with coming so quickly as you let out a desperate moan and your vision went blank. All you could feel was the white-hot sensation of the pleasure flooding through your every nerve. You could hear the praise and groans coming from the man you so desperately loved distantly as your consciousness came back to you. You didn’t realize that you were gripping his silver curls tightly as you came on his fingers. What you did see when you look down, however, was the Doctor licking his fingers clean with one hand and stroking his impossibly hard erection with the other.

This time you pulled him up and kissed his lips, desperate to taste yourself on him. He kissed you sloppily, his tongue sliding over yours and you biting his lip as he pulled back. You slid your hand into his boxers and grabbed his erection, pumping him slowly. His head fell onto your shoulder as he muttered a Gallifreyan curse.

“Fuck, Y/n. If you do that any more I won’t get through the night.”

You slid his shorts off his body and then wrapped your legs around his hips. You hooked your ankles into his back and pulled him closer. He hit your sopping wet entrance and a small whine escaped his lips. You reached between your bodies and lined him up with your entrance and pushed your hips forward.

“Take me like it’s the last time you’ll ever get the chance”

That was all he needed to kiss you fiercely on the lips and push into you, inch by agonizing inch. He bottomed out and waited for you to adjust to him. He felt like heaven, stretching you out just enough to where is felt like you were filled to the brim. You moaned at the thought and he took that as affirmation to start his thrusts. He hit the perfect spots in you and stroked every inch of you perfectly. It wasn’t long before the both of you were on the edge of complete bliss. His hips snapped with the fervor of a man much younger than him and his touch set a blaze on your skin. You had never felt someone pour so much into being intimate and it ignited a fire deep within you. He reached down and (with no vision might I add) expertly massaged your clit until you were writhing and screaming his name. The feel of you clenching around him had him gasping and stuttering out his orgasm quickly after yours, riding out your high to prolong this incredible moment. His hands still ran up and down wherever they could reach, but this time he hardly needed any guidance what-so-ever.

“If that’s what you can do without your vision, god knows what you could with” You joke, the words coming out breathlessly.

He pulls himself out of you and lays down at your side. “I don’t think I’ll need it”

“Why not?” You question curiously.

“Because…” He pauses to turn towards you and run his fingers down your torso. “As much as I would love seeing you under me, I can already tell that I’ve committed your every move, noise, reaction, and curve of your body to memory.” Sliding toward your ear as he says it. “I know you said to do this like it was the last chance I’ll get, but you greatly overestimate my self control if you think I can resist this for long”

You smile and lay your head down on his chest which is still heaving.

You couldn’t wait for him to explore your body once again, inch by inch.

[writeforfandoms]

Call Me Little Sunshine

Find my John Price masterlist

You've had a bad day, but even from a different country, your husband knows how to make it better.

This is pure comforting fluff. Might give you cavities.

Warnings: Price needs his own warning, swearing, sweetness, established relationship.

John Price x f!reader

Word count: 1k

You had just thrown yourself on the couch for a bit of dramatic pouting when your phone rang. You groaned out loud, momentarily tempted to ignore it. It was probably something stupid, or a telemarketer, or whatever.

But… it could be your husband. He did sometimes call without warning.

You checked your phone. Unknown number. Could be your husband. Could be just about anybody.

You answered anyway.

“‘Lo?” 

“Princess.” 

You breathed out a soft sigh at the sound of your darling’s voice. “John.” 

“You alright, love?” His voice was rough, like he’d been smoking recently. 

“Well enough.” You shrugged, pushing yourself up from the couch so you could sit. “What about you? What time is it?” 

John blew out a soft breath, amused. “It’s late, and I’m fine,” he reassured you. “No new holes in me.” The faint sounds of a skirmish came through from the other end, and you recognized Kyle’s voice. 

“Do you need to get that?” you asked, amused despite yourself.

There was a moment of silence. “Nope.” John must have moved away from them, because his end of the line got quieter. “Now, princess. Tell me what’s wrong.”

You winced. “Nothing,” you protested, lifting one hand to rub your forehead. 

“I know you better than that,” John murmured, voice pitched lower, soothing. “You can tell me.”

“It’s not important,” you tried. “Especially compared to whatever you’ve got going on.”

“Right now, all I’ve got going on is ignoring a couple idiots,” John countered. “Nothin’ more important than you.”

Your resistance crumbled in the face of that tone and those words. You sighed and gave in, telling him about your frustrations with work. You tried to keep it short, but he kept asking questions. Not letting you get away with giving him the bare minimum. 

“Well,” he finally said once he’d gotten everything out of you he wanted. “Least you’re done for the day.”

“No kidding.” You huffed softly, once again thinking about getting a drink. You deserved a little relaxation, after the day you’d had. “Two more days and it’s the weekend.”

John chuckled softly. “That eager, hm?”

“John, I’m just preventing murder,” you told him, all faux-innocence. “Really.”

He snorted. “Noble of you,” he teased. 

You smiled. It did not escape you that you felt better, that he was responsible for that. “I’m not keeping you up, am I, love?” 

“No.” His voice softened. “Don’t fret ‘bout me, princess.” 

“You know I always do.” 

“I know.” Those simple words carried such weight to them. Regret that you worried, acknowledgement that he couldn’t make you stop, appreciation that you cared enough to fret. 

You’d both talked this over enough times that you both acknowledged the stalemate. You’d fret. He’d ask you not to. Neither of you would give ground. 

And, honestly? You wouldn’t have it any other way. Your husband was stubborn, and it was something you loved about him, even when he drove you up the wall. 

“You eaten yet?” 

“No,” you groaned, making a face. “Don’t you start fussing at me from another timezone, love.” 

He chuckled. “Can’t stop me.”

You opened your mouth to retort, but paused. The boys would probably take his side. “I’ll order in,” you decided instead. Giving ground to him, this time. 

“Good girl.” His voice dipped teasingly low, with that extra bit of rasp that he knew did things to you.

“Don’t you dare,” you warned him, sitting up again in alarm. “John.”

“What? Can’t I make sure my princess is feeling better?” He purred through the line.

“You are a damn tease, John Price.” But you couldn’t entirely keep your smile out of your tone. 

“Mm. So you like to remind me.” John took a deep breath, slow and steady. “Go order your dinner, princess. Something special tonight, hm? You deserve it.”

You warmed, unable to stop the fond smile if you tried. Which you didn’t. “Alright, love. Get some sleep tonight.”

“I will.” His voice softened, gently affectionate. “I’ll call again soon.”

“When you can,” you emphasized. “I’ll be here.” 

“Love you,” John murmured.

“Love you too.” You bit back the desire to ask when he’d be home, remind him to stay safe. He knew. And you knew. 

But you still had to take a moment to blink back emotion after the call disconnected. Your wonderful, stubborn, incredible husband.

Huffing to yourself, you ordered food. Something nice, like John said. It was amazing how much better you felt after a little conversation and some food. 

But the best came in the morning, as you were settling in to work. A knock at the door made you get up, cautious at first. Until you saw the flowers carried by a delivery man. 

The bouquet was large, beautiful, with some of your favorites. You stroked a few petals with a smile before you plucked out the card. 

Princess,

You can make it two more days. I’ll call again tonight. Chin up, sweetheart.

The note was not signed, but you didn’t need it to be.

But the thing that really caught you by surprise was the second card. 

I’m not bailing you out or stopping your husband if you get arrested, so call me before you murder anyone. -S

Bonnie, you’re a right saint for putting up with that grump. -J

We’re on his six, don’t worry. See you soon. -K

Eyes watery, smile almost painful, you put both notes on the front of the fridge, flowers in pride of place in the center of the table. Today would be no problem, now. 

[wintervalewritersecond]

siren song - xavier thorpe

requested: yes! requests: open! Hii! I was wondering if you could please a do an Xavier x f!Reader where maybe they are like best friends but she likes him and he doesn’t realize and he starts hanging around Wednesday more. the reader starts to feel neglected so she basically asks bianca to use her siren powers to make her forget Xavier, bianca is hesitant but she does it and Xavier finds out and it’s really angsty cause like his best friend doesn’t remember him? up to you if the spell can be reversed and if they have a happy ending or not! Thank you sm in advanced :)

A/N: you will not BELIEVE!! how excited i am for this request! im planning on turning it into multiple parts, so we will see how it works out &lt;;33

wordcount: 5,359 warnings: me not knowing anything abt school systems, she/her reader, a small bit of angst, xavier abandoning reader, reader has telekinesis, lots of smaller scenes that are similar to the ones in the show, asking bianca to manipulate you, few curse words part 2

You have been best friends with Xavier for the longest time and you were convinced he shared romantic feelings for you as well. But, when he starts to become head over heels for the new girl and ignores you at the Rave'n, you can only think of one solution. Bianca's Siren Song.

The first half of the semester had passed already, as you were now finally on your break. One week to do anything you wanted which meant you could go back home, but this time, you decided to stay at Nevermore. Xavier mentioned that he wouldn't be going anywhere anyway; his father didn't care if he came by, and to spare himself the trouble, he would just stay at Nevermore and close to his art studio.

So, considering you are his best friend, you decide to also stay. Surely not because you have feelings for him. Though, that might also have weighed in as you made your decision to stay.

"Finally!"

Xavier lets himself fall down on your bed. Yoko had left for the week, leaving you all alone in the big room. You hated being alone for too long, so you invited Xavier over. He was one of the only people that would stay at Nevermore anyway.

"If I had to listen to any more talking about plants, I would have set the classroom on fire," he mumbles as his face is planted in your pillow, making it hard for you to hear what he is talking about.

You let out a laugh before dropping your bag next to the bed. After three hours of Botany, you could also take a break from the subject.

"Hm," you nod, sitting down next to his legs. "Are you down for a trip to Jericho? We can get some drinks and snacks, movie night?"

Xavier immediately looks up, nodding his head before rolling off the bed. It was a 25-minute walk, but the sun was shining and it wasn't too cold, so it wouldn't be that bad.

After two hours you are finally back in your dorm. The shopping had taken a bit longer as both you and Xavier had forgotten to change out of your Nevermore uniforms, resulting in some nasty glares and bad comments from the townspeople.

"Weren't those freaks supposed to be going home?" You look back at the voice, seeing a small group of guys around your age huddled together, snickering and laughing at you and Xavier. The tall boy pulls your arm, trying to get you away from the group. "Come on, they're just assholes. No need to make a fuss," he whispers in your ear. With a deep breath you turn around, but not before making the can in one of the guys' hands fly to the ground as it explodes on impact, soaking the group in the sticky soda. You let out a chuckle before following Xavier back to Nevermore.

After getting some dinner in the Quad, you race upstairs again. Normally, there are no guys allowed in Ophelia Hall, so you had to sneak Xavier in. Luckily you had done that many times before already, and if you were extra lucky, Thornhill would let you go without any hassle.

Your desk gets filled with all the snacks that the two of you had gotten in Jericho. There is so much, that you wouldn't be surprised if it lasted more than only a week.

"All right, so do you vote for an animated movie, action, romance, horror?"

Xavier was busy picking out a movie as you transformed your bed into some type of 'movie watching paradise'. It is filled with enough blankets and pillows to be a bird's nest, but at least it is comfortable and warm. Once the movie is chosen, Xavier scoots in next to you. The bed is meant for only one person, so it was a tight fit, but neither of you acknowledged it. If anything, it made your heart race faster as your cheeks felt warmer. You have had feelings for Xavier for a while now, never knowing if he returned them, though he has never proven that he didn't.

And that is how the week flew by.

Hanging out in either your or his dorm and sometimes even in the art studio. You weren't the best artist, but you would just sit and watch him paint, handing over some drinks and snacks during the day as you worked on your own thing. Then, at night, you would watch a movie or listen to music before dozing off.

Slowly, all the Nevermore students start coming back, and the dorms fill up again. Yoko had also come back, so you stopped sneaking Xavier in for a bit. Not that Yoko really cared, but you thought that she would maybe want to enjoy the room by herself for a bit before you invited him in.

"Oh my God, Y/N! I haven't seen you in so long," Enid squeals, wrapping her arms around you as you finally joined your group in the Quad. "You will never guess what news I have!"

"What is it?"

"I'm getting a roommate!" She cheers. "I have been alone this entire semester, but Thornhill told me that on Monday, I will finally get a roomie!"

Ajax winces, a distraught look on his face.

"You're forgetting the part where she ate her classmate."

Enid rolls her eyes, shaking her head.

"It wouldn't be the weirdest thing at Nevermore. though it is kinda weird... Anyway, it's only a rumor."

You look at Xavier and he only shrugs, a smirk on his face as the two of you look at the bickering between Ajax and Enid. It is only a matter of waiting to see if there will be an actual cannibal in your school or not.

That evening, Xavier invited you to the Nightshade Library to chill there. 'A quiet moment before the shit show starts again,' he had said, and you couldn't agree more. Not to mention that there was only a small group of people who knew how to get into the library.

"Do you think the new girl is actually a cannibal?"

Xavier bursts out laughing before spinning the pencil in his hand.

"I would surely hope not. You know Enid, when she hears a rumor, she writes about it."

That was true. You don't know how she did it, but Enid always knew what was going on in Jericho and at Nevermore. How? No idea. You look up at the pencil that levitates in the air. You had stolen it out of Xavier's bag, mindlessly controlling it as you talked to him about all sorts of things.

"That's true. I'm sure Enid's blog will be full of new gossip in a few days."

-

"Her mother used to do fencing," Enid mumbles, her mouth full of food. "She killed two kids, not one! She said she didn't keep count, but I don't know if that is true. I feel like she will fit in though."

Ajax looks at her with a horrified look on his face. How does she say that and be so calm about it? He had been face-to-face with the new girl when Enid did a whole tour around the school.

A laugh escapes your lips when you see his expression as you almost spit out your drink. You love how exaggerated the Gorgon is sometimes.

"She also insulted my side of the room! She apparently is allergic to color or something, it's insane. Y/N, does my room look like rainbow vomit?"

You look from Xavier to her, hesitating for a moment before shaking your head. Her room is extremely colorful, but you wouldn't bring it as rude as the new girl.

"No, not at all. I find your room very comforting, actually."

Enid lets out a relieved sigh. She knew it!

-

You stand opposite of Xavier, your blade in your hand as you are dressed in the white fencing suit. Xavier and you always trained together. You both knew each other so well that the moves were quite predictable, but that is also what made it more difficult.

When you hear another pair of footsteps nearing, you look up. A girl, around your height, enters the room. Also dressed in fencing attire, though hers are dyed as dark as a shadow. You take off your cap, looking at her in confusion before averting your gaze to Xavier. He had also taken off his mask as he looks at the new person.

"Coach! She tripped me!"

"It was a clean strike, Rowan," Coach almost sighs. This has been the fourth time he tried to go up against Bianca, but he never made it.

"Maybe practice some more. I'm sure you will get it," she smirks. "Try again next time, Laslow. Seriously, Coach. When am I going to get some real competition?"

Bianca might be the queen of Nevermore, but she is also the queen in fencing. No one can beat her and it is something she is quite proud of. You never hung out with her a lot, but she is always sweet to you.

"Anyone else want to challenge me?"

You were almost up to it as you had never gone against her before, but the newbie beats you to it.

"I do."

Bianca turns around to face the new girl, a surprised yet amused look on her face.

"Oh!" She exclaims. "You must be the psychopath they let in."

"And you must be the self-appointed Queen Bee," the other girl says, her face clear of any emotion.

"No need to start throwing around names," Bianca raises an eyebrow. "Rowan doesn't need anyone to come to his defense. He's not helpless, just lazy."

"Are we doing this or not?"

Two rounds pass between the girls fencing as they both have one point. You elbow Xavier to try and tell him something, but see that his gaze is fixated on the girl in the black suit. You breathe in deeply before just looking back at the fight.

No masks or tips? Is she insane?

Even though Wednesday is the one to propose the idea, Bianca still scratches her first, a bloody mark apparent on the forehead of her opponent. Another day where Bianca is left as the top in the class.

-

"I'm sorry I'm late," Xavier huffs, his hair still damp. "I uh- I was stuck in the infirmary."

You were annoyed, but now also worried.

"What? Are you alright? You're not hurt, are you?"

"Oh, no! No, you know those gargoyle statues on the roofs? One fell down, almost hitting Wednesday. I pushed her out of the way and then had to bring her to the infirmary. She wasn't even happy with it, she was almost upset about the fact she didn't die."

"What a hero," you joke, a smile on your face as you also feel a pang in your chest.

You don't want to be that person, Xavier is free to spend time with anyone you wish. Maybe it is just your insecurity. But, he is here now. With you.

While Xavier was working on the mural, you just sat with him, handing him a new paintbrush or filling up his paint palette whenever he needed it. When hanging out with him, you never really needed to do something crazy each and every time. You could sit next to him in silence and it would still be considered a good time for you.

"Do you hear that?"

You hum, looking up from your phone. In the distance, you can hear a cello. The source seems to be from Enid's dorm. Or, shared dorm now. Enid couldn't play the cello, so it must be Wednesday.

"Beautiful."

-

It was time for the Harvest Festival, something you looked forward to for a while. There would be games, food, and music, and you would be spending it with some of your friends.

The field was already filled with groups of people excited for a night of fun. Jericho wasn't necessarily the place to be when it comes to entertainment, so the Harvest Festival was one of the biggest things every year. You walked in with Enid, Wednesday, Xavier, and Ajax as Weems walked right behind you. The lady was intimidating, but you knew that she wasn't there for you.

The principal had sat down on a bench, keeping a close eye on Wednesday as you walked a bit further with your own group.

"Where did Wednesday go?"

Xavier looks around, but the pig-tailed girl is nowhere to be seen. You shrug, the girl seems to be very quiet, so you didn't hear her sneak off either.

"I'll be right back, I will look for her real quick."

Before anyone can reply, Xavier walks off, trying to find the new girl. You look at Enid for a moment before shrugging yet again, continuing on with your adventure at the festival. You could try out some new food maybe, though the hotdogs were always good as well. After spending tons of money on food and drinks, you sat down at a picnic table, Kent and Yoko joining the group as well. After a few minutes, Xavier comes back, sitting down next to you with a huff. You push your popcorn a bit closer to you as he mutters a 'thank you' before stuffing some in his mouth.

"What got you so upset?" Ajax looks at his best friend, sauce stuck on the corners of his mouth.

"Just some normie," Xavier responds shortly, sipping your milkshake before placing it back in front of you.

"If anyone needs to be thrown against a wall, you know who to call," you just grin.

Telekinesis is, in your opinion, one of the most useful powers that you can have. Be it something big like moving a car, to something small like turning off a light when you are just getting comfortable in your bed.

Xavier just stays quiet which makes you stop talking about the subject. Whatever it was, it must have really annoyed or hurt him.

-

"Xav?" You knock on the wooden door. "Xavier, are you okay?"

You had just heard about Rowan being expelled from Nevermore, though the reason was unknown. Not even Enid knew why the boy got kicked out.

After some shuffling, the door opens. Dressed in a red shirt and grey sweats he awkwardly looks at you.

"You uh- You can come in. There is no one else here anyway," he mumbles, a slight smile on his face.

When he turns around to walk to his bed, you notice some bruises on his arms.

"You okay?"

He only nods before laying down on his bed, patting the place next to him. With a smile you sit down as well, running your fingers over the blue-ish patches on his skin.

"Rowan went a bit crazy," he only whispers. "No need to worry. Movie?"

-

When you get into your Botany class, you see that your usual seat is already taken. Wednesday sits next to your best friend, sitting on the chair that almost had your name written on it. You breathe in deeply before walking to the back of the class, taking your place next to Bianca.

"What is going on between you two?"

"Nothing," you whisper back. "Xavier is just friendly."

"I doubt Wednesday is impressed by your tricks, mister Thorpe."

You look over at his desk as you see a big spider crawling out of his page, stopping in front of the girl.

"Admit it," he smirks. "You're a little impressed."

One smack was all it took to change the spider into dust, making it disappear into thin air.

-

"Xavier, sit still!"

The two of you are laughing as you almost sit on his lap, a brush in your right hand and face paint in your left. He insisted that he wouldn't be able to do the makeup for the Poe Cup himself and that you had to help him. You were almost finished, but Xavier got impatient as he moved around.

"Ta-da!"

You push him in front of the mirror before throwing his hat at him. When he puts it on he does some silly faces. The dark makeup around his eyes does really make the blue-green pop. Xavier catches you staring at him as you seem almost mesmerized by his look. He turns around with a smirk, looking down at you before charging at you, making you let out a scream before trying to escape his hands.

"Xavier! Come on, we have to get to our boats!"

You follow Ajax and Xavier outside, meeting up with the rest of the people that were excited about the Poe Cup. Four teams that will compete against each other, though you wouldn't be surprised if Bianca's team won again. Putting Sirens on water? There is simply no other way.

Every boat is painted inspired by an Edgar Allen Poe story, and they all looked amazing.

"Good luck," you whisper to Xavier before he gets into the boat.

"Oh, we will win," he winks before jumping onto his seat and pulling his jester hat down.

The boats take off after the gunshot, some faster than others. You wonder what type of sabotage this year would bring. After only a minute, the first boat crashes already.

All the boats are out of sight as you patiently wait. What is strange to you is that Wednesday participates. Enid even made Wednesday wear cat ears- though you are sure she absolutely despises them. Something about Yoko accidentally eating garlic and the pig-tailed girl taking her place.

From afar you can see a red, black, and yellow boat getting closer and closer to the shore, though the Jokers seem to be slowing down and even- sinking? Oh god, Xavier is not going to like this.

It almost seemed like Bianca would win again, but that is until the spikes go through the side of their boat, ripping holes into it as it slowly fills up with water.

The Black Cats had won, making Enid scream with happiness as she jumps up and down with the Cup in her hands. Oh, you will never hear the end of this. Ajax and Xavier are sitting at a table, both sulking while staring down at the piece of cake that they had gotten. They were so upset with their loss, that they couldn't even take a bite of it.

"You guys did amazing, I am sure that you will win the next cup!"

Xavier only huffs, pushing the cake around with the fork.

Both Xavier and Ajax are extremely competitive, so they took the loss extremely personally. But, you believe in them. You always do.

-

When Xavier had told you that Wednesday found his private art studio and asked him to the Rave'n, your heart broke a little. Somewhere in your mind, you had hope. Hope that he would ask you to the dance. But he seemed so happy. So happy that the girl that he admired asked him to the dance.

Since then, he barely talked to you. No more movie nights, the seat next to him was always taken by the deadpanned girl, and even during lunch, he would barely say anything. Texts would be left on seen and calls would be ignored.

The news of Xavier basically being dumped for the Rave'n should upset you. And in a way, it does. You knew that he admired Addams, but if she hadn't blown Xavier off, you wouldn't be here right now.

"She just totally messed it up. Sneaked into my studio just to accuse me of the most outrageous shit," Xavier scoffs, his hands running through his hair, almost pulling it out of his scalp.

"Hey," you lean closer to him, taking hold of his hands. "We can go to the Rave'n if you want? At least neither of us will be alone."

Your fingers slowly comb through his hair, taking out some small knots on the way. He only nods, staring down at the floor.

"Yeah. Yeah, that sounds like a plan."

-

Your outfit matches Xaviers perfectly. His suit was nice and crisp, decorated with a small black ribbon around his neck. You added a ribbon around your wrists and neck, almost acting as a necklace with matching bracelets. You hold onto his arm with a bright smile as the two of you walk through the Quad and towards the Rave'n.

"I'm so happy you got that stain out," Xavier laughs. "Remind me to never eat anything with ketchup when I wear something white."

"I tried to! But you insisted on it," you giggle, greeting Thornhill before entering the prom.

The room is decorated with bunches of white flowers, sparkles, lights, and what seems to be ice sculptures. It is truly a sight.

"Punch?"

"Have anything to spike it with?"

You let out a gasp before elbowing Xavier, shaking your head with a laugh.

"No, but we might be able to get something from Ajax later tonight."

Both of you take a cup of punch, smoke coming out of the cups. It looks kind of intimidating, but at least it tastes good.

You had sat down with Devina, Kent and Xavier, though Xavier is more quiet than usual.

"Are you okay?" You mumble, looking up at him. "Is it Wednesday?"

He turns his empty glass in his fingers, letting out a soft sigh. He doesn't want to be upset, but the feeling of being dumped like that still hurts him in a way.

"Yeah," a smile makes its way on his face. "I'm sorry. I do really like being here with you."

Your cheeks feel warm and your heart feels like it will explode, so you take his hand, softly squeezing it before nodding.

"If you want to leave, you can always tell me."

"Yo!" Ajax hurries over before he taps Xavier on his shoulder. "Check that out!"

Everyone looks over to where he is pointing at. Wednesday Addams. Her gown is black instead of the usual white and she is accompanied by some Normie. Huh, you would never have guessed that that was what she was into.

"Wednesday totally busted out of her cocoon."

It's true. The girl does really pull off the look, even though you never expected her to enjoy the Rave'n. But, to be totally fair, her face looks almost disgusted as she takes in the decorations. Your eyes fall on Xavier, who is back to having barely any emotion on his face as his eyes are just fixated on the Addams girl.

Without any warning, Xavier stands up, walking towards Wednesday as she pours some punch into two glasses. You try and ask him what he is doing, but decide to hold your tongue.

You were so excited that he finally talked to you again after ignoring you for Wednesday. He finally returned to his old self, but the second the darkly dressed girl stepped into the room, it is like you didn't exist anymore. Wednesday herself never did you any wrong, and that is why it makes you mad at yourself. How can you be so annoyed with a girl that has nothing done wrong?

You just wish you were her. You wish you could pull off her hairstyle, be deadpanned, and be intimidating while also being beautiful. But most of all, you wanted the attention that she got from Xavier.

"You okay?" Kent whispers, looking at you with his eyebrows creased.

He spent a lot of time with you while you were being ignored by your best friend, so he kind of knew what was going on. You only nod, averting your gaze down to your empty cup. Did you not mean anything to him? Come on, Y/N. Stop exaggerating, he can have other friends.

When you look back up you see that he is still talking to an uninterested Wednesday.

"I'll be right back," you mumble, picking up the hem of your dress before going through the exit.

The music here is quieter and the lights are dimmed. Even though you can hear the talking and dancing in the room right next to you, you still feel alone. Are you a bad friend for wanting Xavier's attention? Are you being too jealous? Or maybe you are just being too insecure.

You plop down on the couch, letting out a sigh as you stare at your shoes. Your heart wishes that this evening would have gone differently. You could go out and have fun with the rest, yet you sit here, sulking.

It doesn't take long to hear another pair of footsteps.

"Whoever invented high heels clearly had a side hustle as a torturer."

You look to the side, seeing Wednesday pull on her heels. You let out a chuckle, shrugging.

"Yeah, I wouldn't be surprised. You know what they say; suffering tests a woman."

"Speaking of suffering," the girl turns around, looking at you. "Where is your date? I didn't see you and Xavier on the dance floor. But I don't blame you, the music at this dance is appalling."

"We uh- I don't know. He walked off. Haven't seen him since he went up to you."

Wednesday hums, leaning back against the couch as well. If she had to dance one more time, she might start breaking her own legs.

"Wednesday? Can I ask you something?"

"You already are," she states.

You laugh awkwardly before you breathe in. Your hands are shaking, making you feel stupid for asking.

"How... How did you manage to get Xavier's attention?"

She raises an eyebrow, looking at your face. You don't dare to look at her, though. It was already embarrassing for you to ask this question, you don't want to see her judgemental stare.

"If I knew, then I would immediately stop it. He is annoying and only stands in my way," she mutters, rolling her eyes. "Why? You are his best friend, does he not pay attention to you?"

"I wish he did a little more."

A sad smile on your face before you push yourself up, stretching your legs. Wednesday can't help it.

"Well," you nod, looking back at the Rave'n. "You look beautiful today, Wednesday."

As you walk off, you hear her respond.

"Xavier is an incredible idiot for not seeing how disgustingly in love you are."

This evokes a real laugh out of you. It is hard to absolutely hate the girl. But she is right. Then again, maybe you should have said something.

"Yo, yo, yo! Almost eleven o'clockity, so haul it out on the dance floor one last time before the Rave'n says Nevermore!"

Just as you enter, Kent pulls your arm, pulling you onto the floor for the last dance of the evening. You know what? Fuck it. Together with Enid and Kent, you do some weird moves, jumping and swinging your arms to the music.

You don't care anymore. You want to have fun with your friends, and though it would have been more fun with Xavier, you have to accept that he just... Doesn't feel the same.

You look up confused when you feel splatters on your face. Did the sprinklers go off? When you look at Kent, you see that red liquid is dripping down on his face.

"Kent? Are you hurt?"

Before he can answer, the sprinklers turn on fully, coating everything in a layer of red liquid. Is this blood? You look down at your dress and hands which are now stained. What kind of prank is this? People start screaming, trying to hurry out of the room, making you pick up your pace as well. The floor is extremely slippery as you almost fall over multiple times. Where is everyone? Where is Xavier?

As you reach the exit, you see Xavier and Tyler bumping into each other.

"What the hell are you doing, man?!"

"I'm just texting my dad," Tyler looks the guy up and down. "He's on his way. Have- Have you seen Wednesday? I lost her."

"How should I know," Xavier sneers, turning back around to leave already. "She's your date."

"Xavier?"

He looks back at you once before walking off. You pause for a second, frozen in your place before you faintly hear Tyler asking if you're alright.

"I uh- Yeah. Sorry for Xavier."

-

After you finally washed all the paint out of your hair and off of your skin, you decide that you want to visit Xavier. He was definitely still not doing fine, and though he blew you off, you just had to make sure he was okay. After all, you were still his date today.

Dressed in your pajamas you sneak out of your room and towards the hall that Xavier stays in. He must have showered now as well. You hate to admit it, but even covered in the paint, he was still amazingly pretty.

"Xavier?" You whisper-yell, knocking on the door of his room. "Xav- Can you let me in, please? If Coach sees me here he will kill me."

The door swings open, revealing an annoyed boy hiding behind it. You sneak in quickly as the door closes behind you.

"What?" He asks, biting on his cheeks. He wanted to be alone, yet you are here now.

"I just wanted to see how you were doing," you shrug. "Seeing Tyler after he beat you up can't be too nice."

"I'm doing perfectly fine, thanks."

"Xavier, you and I both know-"

"Stop," he glares down at you. "There is no such thing as you and i."

His tone breaks your heart. What is he talking about?

"How would you feel if the person you like would show up to the Rave'n with some shit normie? Knowing you are stuck there with someone who isn't her?"

"Xavier! She left you for nothing," you scoff. "I have always been there for you. Always! When you broke up with Bianca, when you had to stay here because your father didn't come to pick you up, I invited you to sit with me during the Visiting Weekend-"

"Oh yeah!" He throws up his arms. "You are such a good person, Y/N."

So... sarcastic. Were you really that bad of a friend?

"And why do you even care that much? You are literally just exaggerating! You have been blowing up my phone for no reason knowing that I was busy!"

"Because I wanted my best friend back! You have been so obsessed with Wednesday-"

"So this is about Wednesday?" He scoffs, crossing his arms. "She has done nothing wrong to you! Never! You are just bitching and being mad because she is better than you. Is all of this literally because I like her? Is that why you're mad? Jealous?"

"What if I am?! What if I just want even an ounce of your attention? Wednesday doesn't even like you!"

"Don't," he leans closer to you, gritting his teeth. "Talk shit about her. Leave."

He points to the door.

"Leave!"

The tears that had piled up in your eyes started rolling down your cheeks. Never did the boy talk to you like this, not once in the few years that you have been befriended.

You walk out the door, not one more word said to him as the door gets thrown shut behind you. If only you could find a way to forget about him. Maybe it would have been better if you never met him at all. You knew that you would never be like Wednesday, but were you not good enough?

What if you tried some type of spell or brainwashing? Surely someone in Nevermore has some type of way to make you forget. Even only a small amount of weed from Ajax would help. What if you make Wednesday torture you until you forget? God, you wish you could just say the word and forget-

A word to forget.

Bianca.

You hurry towards the room belonging to the Siren. She knows how you feel. She must help you. You will do anything for her to help you.

"Bianca!" You knock on her door, breathing in shakily as stray tears fall down your cheeks. "Bianca, please."

The door opens slowly, revealing a confused Bianca. A towel is resting on her shoulders and she is also already dressed in her sleepwear.

"Please," you sniff. "Use your Siren Song. Make me forget Xavier. Please."

[firegirl888101]

Insatiable Madness (6)

|Sagau Yandere Fatui Harbingers x Reader|

And so they remain in this world for longer than what they planned.

Reader is Gender Neutral!

"What gave you the idea I can tell the future?" You scoffed.

"That doesn't matter! Tell me, do I become the strongest? Does Lord Capitano finally recognise my strength and duel me?" He answered.

"How am I supposed to know? The game isn't even finished, you psychopath!"

"It can't be that far away that even you don't know." He scoffed.

"It's not a question of how far in the future it is, it's whether I can actually answer it or not that matters!"

"Oh, so you do know but you just can't tell me because it would mess with the future! I see..." He muttered to himself.

That is not what I meant.

"Tartaglia leave the poor Decider alone. We've tormented them enough." Pulcinella scolded, prodding his walking stick at the ginger.

"But I need to know!--"

"-And you will learn what you want later, when The Tsaritsa has finished her plans with them." He scolded.

"Come on, boy, I thought I taught you better than this."

"Dottore what is taking so long!? I was promised we wouldn't stay here much longer." Sandrone raised her voice.

Why is that cosplayer so pissy? It's not like she can actually 'traverse back to Teyvat' like she says she can.

"I'm not sure, let me redo my calculations." He replied.

All Sandrone did was groan in response. "Fine! You do your calculations, I'm taking The Decider with me."

"Don't stray too far!" Columbina waved, giggling at The Doctor's increasing speed in shuffling his papers.

You felt her grab you by your restraints and drag you with her, she seemed to be heading behind the counter.

"Now that I have your undivided attention," She coughed into her hand. "Educate me about these beautiful machines this place has!"

"What."

"I have never seen machinery so big and so seemingly illustrious in my lifetime! You simply must report to me which genius created such pleasing creations."

Careful there Sandrone, out of context it sounds like you're describing something else...

"Well..." How were you supposed to explain them? You didn't know how they work, you've never worked a day in your life! You're just a college student with barely passable grades.

"I don't want any hesitancy. Speak now." She glared.

"Uh... This one! This one is used for frying things, the things being chips... They're more commonly known as fries though."

"Ah, I see... And I suppose the liquid in this 'basin' is oil?" She questioned, tracing her hand on the metal.

"It's not a basin, that would be in a bathroom... But yes, it is. I also advise that you don't touch it, it's most likely still hot. Not that I'd mind it burning you..."

"What did you say, you unrisable creature?" She spat, turning to you with a blank gaze.

"Nothing, Sandrone." You sighed. "Now that I answered your question, will you answer one of mine?"

"Of course not. It's also 'Lady Sandrone' to you." She smiled, turning back to the oil with a look of interest.

"So... how does one make and then 'fry' these 'chips' in this machine?"

"Would you like the basics or the very start of the process?" You sighed, you really didn't want to explain that you cut a potato and then clean and so on.

"The very start, just who do you take me for?"

Fantastic. You shouldn't really be picky in this type of situation though.

"You take a potato, clean it then cut it into strips..."

"Important! Thin or thick strips? What's the exact diameter? The length?"

"It depends what type of chips you want, as typical fast food chain's ones are thin like fries they're quite thin and short. Those who get long ones are said to be the luckiest." You explained to her, as she writes everything down on a piece of paper.

"And the diameter?"

"You don't need a specific size, as long as they're somewhat equal they're fine. They're going to be eaten anyway, I don't see why you're making such a big fuss."

She stayed quiet for a moment. "I want them to be perfect."

Nothing is perfect but if I said that she'd get even more pissed off.

"Next, you take your clean cut chips and put them in this basket. You then place the basket with chips in the oil and wait for a certain amount of time for them to cook."

"For how long?" She questioned. "I don't know? I've never personally used one before, I'm just saying what I've seen others do."

...and by 'seen what others do', you mean impatiently peering behind the front desk to see what the workers are up to.

"Useless, and here I thought you were becoming convenient for me." Sandrone scoffed.

"Well, the chips are supposed to be a golden colour so I think that's context enough..." You mumbled.

"And then what? Surely there is more."

"Not really, once they're cooked you put salt on them then eat. Some like to eat them straight away, but I like to add sauce sometimes."

"Excellent, I have written every word of your explanation down. As you provided the least minimal detail possible, you will show me a clear and explained demonstration." She scolded.

"I'm sorry, you want me to use one of these machines to help you with your notes?"

"Precisely." She nodded to herself.

"No." You answered shortly. "I have no idea how to operate one of these machines, what if I set fire to the building?"

That's a bit dramatic, but you don't want to embarrass yourself. Besides, a fire could count as arson and you weren't willing to potentially get yourself to prison with the rest of these lunatics.

"I suppose that is anxiety raising. Especially when I've been ordered to stay out of public eye..." She sighed to herself.

"What a dilemna this situation is. I'll have to take the machine apart and rebuild it once I return to my lab. You will aid me in my endeavour, won't you?" She glared.

She's good at staying in character. It's freaking me out.

"S-Sure..." You stuttered in fear.

"Excellent." She smiled at you once more.

Suddenly, lots of cars could be heard from outside the building. You could tell they were fast as the sounds left as soon as they came.

Oh, please tell me that's help!

"What was--"

"Marionette, bring The Decider now!" Dottore shouted from the other room. "We need to get out of here, they alerted their own soldiers!"

"You did what while under my merciful eye?" She turned to you.

"Sandrone, there's no time to be mad! Get your puppeteering arse over here right now!"

"Ugh."

She dragged you to the rest of the harbingers, who all gave you nasty glares.

"What did you do!?" Signora screamed in your face.

"I called the authorities to arrest you nutcases! You're all delusional and high in the fucking sky if you think you're the actual Fatui Harbingers from a fictional game!"

"Did it ever occur to you that you are currently being held hostage by multiple enemies of yours? You have courage to do such a thing while captured by us." Capitano praises.

"We have circled the entire building! Give the hostage and we will arrest peacefully!" An officer yelled from the front entrance.

Finally! I thought they'd never arrive.

"Dottore what do we do?" Arlecchino shouts at him. "Let's just kill them all again, it worked before didn't it?" Childe grinned.

"Not this time, Tartaglia. Even if we disposed of these soldiers, I am positive more would soon arrive." Capitano stated, unmoving unlike most harbingers.

"So you're saying even if we take care of them, we'll still be outnumbered."

"They're not soldiers, idiots. They're police officers who work for justice." You spat at them.

They all looked at you, silently telling you to shut up then turned back to eachother.

"Listen to me, as I'll only suggest this once." Signora thought outloud. "I'll freeze them with my cryo delusion, then we'll run to a safe place? As much as I'd hate to do that as I'm wearing heels, I believe it's our only option."

"I agree with Rosalyne," The old man coughed. "We need speed and tactiful thinking if we wish to leave this world."

"Signora, I've never known you to be so vague!" Childe laughed at her, looking at Pulcinella in hopes he'll laugh along with him.

"She's obviously talking about the park we entered this world in." Arlecchino scoffed at his behaviour.

"Then that is what we shall do." Pierro agreed.

Signora then pushed herself through the double doors calmly. You couldn't see what was happening due to Capitano covering your view, but you could hear screams and hysterical laughter.

"Please don't tell me she's killing them." You muttered, a look of repulsion present on your face.

"Did you even listen to her plan? She's not killing anyone." Sandrone rolled her eyes.

"I don't trust you, nor do I trust her."

"A wise decision on your part, but it doesn't aide your case of being kidnapped." Pierro answered for her.

"I'm aware of that, arsehole..." You whispered. "Pardon?" He glared.

"You know what? I've had enough of staying quiet. Fuck every single one of you! I hope that one day you breathe a vapes' cancerous flavour and your lungs dissolve at the second!"

"What's a vape?" Dottore turned to you.

"Okay, maybe I've been assuming too much, maybe you imported some illegal drugs from elsewhere? That's not the point though." You sighed.

"I feel better now that I got that out of my chest." You smiled to yourself, noticing Capitano giving you a blank stare through his mask in return.

"It certainly doesn't help you, but you do what you deem fit."

"Let's move!" Signora's voice could faintly be heard from outside, the harbingers one by one leaving the building through the doors.

"Apologies." Capitano coughed into his hand, picking you up and throwing you over his shoulder.

"Hey! I can walk myself, you tied my wrists together not my ankles!" You argued to him.

"Does it look like he wants you over your shoulder?" Scaramouche rolled his eyes, before realising something.

"Nevermind, you wouldn't be able to see." He laughed in your face, hitting your head which banged against Capitano's back.

"Dude! Careful, I don't want to be near his arse! Besides, I--"

You stopped yourself from talking when you managed to turn your head to the police officers outside. They looked in terrible condition, you thought Signora was being drugged up when she went on about her cryo delusion!

Seeing the police officers shout to each other as they struggle against the ice freezing them in place made you realise one very important thing.

These cosplayers... They're the real fucking deal.

How do we feel about some bonding time with Sandrone? :>

I don't want the reader to be too quiet about their situation, but I just wanted to make it clear that they're afraid since they're aware of the current situation they're in. I'm not exactly sure how I'm going to write this but I suppose thats what practice is for...

Please don't expect too many happy, nice and generally fluffy scenes.

This is Yandere, a genre which should never, under any circumstance be considered normal. It's abusive, unhealthy and leads to a lot of victims facing awful conditions which they never should or ever have to endure no matter who they are.

This is fiction that I'm writing, meaning it's all taken light-heartedly IN A FICTIONAL SENSE.

If anyone, by chance, is currently in conditions where a loved-one or yourself has suddenly become distant and/or being hurt when away from eyes please get help. Talk to them, or if it's you, talk to someone you know you can trust.

If you can't talk to anyone, find authorities who can help you. Call 999, as it is in the U.K, or your local emergency service. They will always help you, and will never deny your rights or freedom.

Thanks for reading this, I hope all who's reading knows this information already, but I thought I'd include it since who knows when it comes to where you are in the world and whether your education programs taught critical information like this.

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[patrophthia]

Hii soo I have a request for Regulus x reader :) okay so like maybe the reader got like a bad haircut or smt and feels very insecure and so Regulus comforts them and says like it's not that bad lol. You don't have to write it if you don't want to it's just a request! :)

i’m sorry this took so long, i have no excuse ive just been lazy 😭😭😭 but this idea, is so so cute hello?!?!

veritaserum | regulus black

pairing: regulus black x reader

genre: fluff, established relationship, comforting, a bit suggestive, not proof read!

One thing about Regulus Black is that he tends to take things a little too seriously. Just a little, he promises as he watch you fuss over your new hair do. 

A slight frown playing at your lips as you try to toss your locks in different directions. Left, right, left again, right again. Only to finally give up and huff out in frustration, turning to him with an all too upset look on your face. 

“I told them to only take a few inches off, this way too much and it’s not even the style I asked for them to do! How am I supposed to go around looking like this, Reg?” 

Regulus narrow his eyes, squinting as he tried to find what exactly was so wrong about your new cut. Sure it’s short, and definitely different from the pass styles he’s seen on you but you still look breathtaking, isn’t that all that matters? “Looking like…?” 

“A derange person who doesn’t know how to take care of themselves,” you say, flailing your hands up in frustration. “Merlin, what am I going to do?”

“It’s not bad,” he offers, shrugging. And when your frowns deepens, he adds. “Really, it isn’t.” 

“You’re only saying that because you’re my boyfriend,” your murmur, “just admit it doesn’t look good, I won’t be mad at you.” 

“I’m not! I genuinely think it looks good on you.” And because Regulus tends to take things about too seriously, he reaches into his book bag before pulling out a small clear vial. “Here, this is veritaserum.” 

He doesn’t need to explain it to you, the both of you having studied the content within the while a few classes ago in Potions. Regulus, pulls the cork open before quickly downing the clear substance.

There’s a few moments of silence where you both stared at one another. You not believing that he really downed an entire vial of truth serum just to prove of his point, and when you take a step forward; Regulus opens up his mouth to speak. 

“Your new hair cut looks amazing on you, Mon chéri,” he says first. “Breath taking even.” 

The corner of your lips twist upwards on its own accord, heart softening at his words. “You didn’t have to drink that just to tell me.” 

“You wouldn’t have believe me otherwise,” he hiccups, short dark curls falling gracefully onto his forehead. Regulus, pushes it off his face, gazing at you with content. “Matter of fact, I think I’m getting hard just looking at you, I can’t fake that.” 

“Gross, Reg,” you groaned, making your way towards him with a fake disgusted look, “you didn’t have to tell me that.” 

“I didn’t want to either,” he says, reaching out for you, and you let him take your hand, “but I can’t really control what I want to say right now since I—” he lifts up the empty vial into your line of sight “—anyways, your hair looks good on you. And if you’re so worried about it then I’m sure there’s hair tonic that’ll grow it back out in a moments time.” 

“Mhmm,” you hum, nodding as you agreed with him, “think I’ll keep it like this for a few weeks though.” 

And when Regulus lets out a quiet —barely even there, “yes!” You think that he might’ve liked this hair cut more than he lets on. 

[sourbinnie]

☆ trying ☆

♡ genre ¿? ♡ -> heavy angst ; no happy ending ♡ pair ¿? ♡ -> hyung line!skz + sibling!reader (gender neutral) ♡ plot ¿? ♡ -> your brother failed you and now it was too late to redeem it. ♡ warnings ¿? ♡ -> swearing ♡ request ¿? ♡ -> yes!

maknae line

-> the scenario

remembering was hard to you, thinking about the old days just didn't seem right. it was a different life, a different air and a different kind of worry you had. you enjoyed your brother's company a lot when you were younger, he was your best friend even if he was older than you. you had a strong bond (or that's what you thought), a connection that you didn't find anywhere else and when he hugged you, you felt protected like nothing could hurt you.

growing up always leads to people changing through time. so when you started to drift away from him, you knew things weren't going to go exactly how you wanted them to be. you really did try to keep the relationship you formed with him going but it was no use when it was all one sided. that still didn't stop you from trying even if you would leave empty handed, you just wanted to tell him how much he meant to you and you wanted to keep on supporting him. it was safe to say that only brought out fights since he didn't want you there in the first place and when you're in your teenage years, you really don't know how to solve things without fighting.

when he started being a trainee, it was worse. you could handle him not wanting you there and making a fuss about it, you couldn't handle the silence though. you couldn't handle the cold shoulder every time he saw you or the way he couldn't even look at you. even worse was the fact that you barely saw him because of how much time he spent at the jyp building training and when he debuted, he never told you. he told the rest of your family of course but you had to find out through your mom. no message popped up on your phone, no phone call, nothing, it was radio silence and you were done.

it was easy to say that if he wasn't gonna put in his part as your brother, then you were not gonna be his little brother/sister anymore. it was too late to fix anything, especially the mess he created in the first place. it was unfair and you didn't feel like putting up a fight anymore. 

chan ✉

when he arrived at australia, he noticed someone from his family was missing. he sighed as he thought about you, how much he missed you and how much his heart ached every time he thought about you. he really wanted to be a good example to hannah and lucas, yet he failed you to even be a good brother. now as he got older, he knew he made a mistake in pushing you aside, you were his best friend when you were younger and now he doesn't even have a spot in your life.

as he got to his old family home, he noticed your room was empty. not only empty of your presence but empty of furniture and of the things that it once had. hannah explained to him that you moved out because you just didn't feel at home anymore and wanted to pursue your dreams. to say that he was in shock was less than what he was feeling, he felt a sense of anger and sadness invade him. how could you not tell him? i mean yeah, you lost contact over time but he expected to see you. he decided to call you and actually settle this once and for all, he was done with the silence.

"chris? what's up?" the distance in your voice was so unsettling but he wasn't expecting a warm welcome. he didn't know what to say for a minute, he realized he hadn't heard you in so long and it only made him feel guiltier.

"why didn't you tell me you moved out?" he asked as forward as he could be. he heard you take a deep breath and let it out, the tense atmosphere was there even if it was just a phone call.

"why do you care? we live in different countries anyways." you said frustrated as he was now trying to act like he cared. you didn't believe it for a second and you didn't want to have this conversation right now.

"because i am your brother? i don't care if we live in different countries, i wanna know what's going on!" he said and it was irrational that he was the one getting angry but he really wanted to try to make things better.

"so now you care? after all this time?" you said and let out a bitter laugh. "listen, i can't do this right now, i know lucas told me you were back and that i should come say hi but i couldn't because you hurt me so fucking much during all these years that i didn't have it in me to see you again. please don't call me again, okay?"

"(y/n) we can move past it. we can actually work this out please, i miss having you in my life and i need you here with me. i'm sorry that i fucked everything up, i'm sorry i wasn't the brother you needed but just give me a chance to show you that i changed." he said, almost begging because he was done with this feud and he actually did need you.

"i don't need you and i don't accept your apology. tell mom and dad i said hi and that i'm okay!" you said and hanged up. he closed his eyes as he tried to take your words in but he just couldn't, it felt like a stab in the heart but he knew he deserved it in the end. he probably made you feel way worse during this whole years and that's a thought he would have to deal with.

minho ✉

"you didn't show up." he said when he finally arrived at his old house. he saw you there sitting on a bench in the garden and felt a sense of sadness building up in his chest. it's been so long since he talked to you, let alone saw you in person so to see that you were okay was enough to relieve him but enough to make him realize that he needed you more than anyone. he was always by your side when you two were kids, as an only child when you get a sibling, it's almost impossible to separate them from their side. so now as he looked at you and realized he failed you as a brother because you couldn't even meet his stare, it was starting to get to him.

"i didn't. i hope mom and dad had a good time." you answered. you were invited to today's concert in your hometown, you had a ticket and everything was sent your way. he expected to see you there, in the crowd or backstage but he didn't get that opportunity because you weren't there. you still weren't looking at him as you tried to enjoy the scenery and relax a bit but of course if your brother was there, you could not do that. "okay what is it?"

"why aren't you looking at me?" he asked and you just shrugged, not knowing how to answer that. he felt a distant flare between the two of you and he didn't like it at all. he suddenly remembered all the times he got mad at your advances to keep your sibling bond alive, the ways you would support him, the notes you would leave him. "i miss you (y/n)."

"i'm literally right here." you said as if it was obvious but he just shook his head as you finally looked at him confusion invading your face. 

"no, i miss what we had. you are my only sibling and yet i feel like i barely know what you're up to, i only find out through mom and dad!" he expressed tired and defeated. he was not one to beg or to plead for someone but he would do it for you because he was exhausted. 

"maybe because you did me wrong and now i don't want you in my life anymore?" you said calmly and if that didn't break him completely than he didn't know what would. he felt like crying right then and there, and he fucking hated crying. "i'm sorry i didn't go but you should move on from this because i don't wanna be near you anymore." 

"did i really hurt you that bad?" he said as he grabbed your wrist before he could let you walk away and for the first time you looked him in the eye, nodding your head. letting you go as you entered your house again to go to your room and leaving a minho with tears in his eyes.

changbin ✉

he didn't really feel like he wanted to be back. he knew the atmosphere would be tense even if his sister was gonna be there and also his parents. he didn't want to leave you behind and as time passed he knew he made the wrong decision, nothing should've come first other than you. your support should've been enough, your love should've been priority yet he let it go way too soon when things started getting complicated.

now as he made his way towards his old room, he wanted to knock on your door and talk to you. ask you how you've been doing, ask you what you've been up to, ask you if you could give him a chance again to be the brother you deserved. before he could do it, you opened the door and were a bit taken back from seeing him, you knew he would be here you just didn't expect to see him right now. so many thoughts were floating through his head as he tried to think of what to say to you.

"can you please move?" you asked and even your voice sounded different. it didn't radiate the sweet and loving energy it used to, even your words were harsh and held no love towards him. he sighed and crossed his arms without letting you pass.

"is that how you're gonna receive me?" he asked, not disappointed but just surprised and a little hopeful that he might get a hug from you but you wouldn't move. you raised an eyebrow and looked at him, he didn't know how but it made him feel so small when you were looking at him like that.

"you want me to pretend like everything's okay or something?" you asked and when he moved, you took the opportunity to get away but to your dismay he followed you. "changbin i don't know what you want from me."

"i want you to talk to me, i want to listen to you, i just fucking need you goddamn it. i'm tired of doing this and i'm so done with being trapped in the past, i want to move on (y/n)." he said and waited for your answer. he didn't expect to see the tears in your eyes, but he knew you better than that, you didn't cry when you were sad but when you were angry.

"fuck you for real. you want to move on? move on without me because it's not just being stuck in the past, it's the fact that i tried everything to be close to you and you pushed me away. you're not the worst brother because you're not even my brother anymore to me." you said as you went downstairs leaving him shocked as he shook his head. 

he wasn't angry at you, he could never be anymore. he remembers the times where he was so cruel and so bitter, showed no mercy with his words and now as he stood there feeling so small and hopeless, he knew there was no turning back.

hyunjin ✉

it felt weird to him that he was alone on his birthday. usually he was thrilled to spend it with his parents or his members, especially if he was on a break like he was right now. it was night right now and it was about to be over, he sighed to himself and laughed. he felt pathetic, wasted even from how it all hurt within him and how much he was thinking about you. 

in the past you would've been the first one to call and also the last one. he used to hang up way too soon even when he wasn't busy because he felt like you were a bit too much for his liking. he would do anything to receive a call right now, you could yell at him all you want and he wouldn't care as long as he got to hear you again. he felt the tears building up as he knew he had been horrible, he had been unfair and treated you like you didn't deserve. it's like his hands found his way to his phone and looked for your contact, if you weren't gonna call then he was.

"hyunjin, it's late." that's the first thing you said to him and even if he was a bit drunk, he couldn't help but catch the monotone voice you were giving him. he was nervous to talk to you and it showed on his shaky hands even if you couldn't see him.

"why didn't you call?" hyunjin asked and that was confusing you even more as you tried to shake off the sleepiness. he knew he was direct with his question but he was tired of pretending and he needed to hear you say happy birthday to him, as childish as it was from his side being the older brother.

"why would i? oh right, happy birthday." even when you said it still wasn't enough because you just didn't have that same enthusiasm, the same spark that would light up his darkness. he smiled sadly as he let the tears roll down his face because all he needed was to see his little sibling right now yet he was stuck in a room that felt like a trap at this point. "hyunjin did you just call me because of that?"

"maybe, yeah. also because i fucking miss you." he said and you couldn't lie, you felt bad towards him but the sense of anger you've been building up for years was stronger. "i'm so sorry (y/n), if i could choose right now to change the past i would. i would literally spend all the time in the world with you and never would've let you go."

"but you did hyunjin, you did let me go. even when i held on to you and tried to make it work, you dropped me." you said and now your tears were building up, he could hear you sniffling and that broke his heart into a million pieces. "i wish i could tell you that we can make it work but i know i'm better off without you. sorry to say that on your birthday, wish you the best."

it was almost as if you knew that he was gonna start rambling so you hanged up at the right time. he felt like choking on his tears as his phone slipped from his hands, not caring to pick it up. he didn't lose his sibling, he lost his best friend and now he couldn't do anything to fix it.