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lizard-on-a-window-pane · 7 months

Note

hi!! this is the same anon from earlier and i saw you wanted to write for james potter. and i’m so sorry if you’ve done something similar. so maybe after a quidditch match, win or loss, all james wants to do is lie and bed with reader and hug her. but they’re not dating and he ends up confessing too, still tired, he doesn’t even realize he’s admitted his feelings

thank you again for your time:))

-can i be ‘🎀 anon’? lolol

hi lovely 🎀! thanks for your sweet words and adorable requests 😊 i hope you like it!

pairing: James Potter x reader tags: fluffy fluff, some angst, gn reader if you want word count: 1.9k

Cuddles and Confessions

So close. So bloody close. And to bloody Slytherin to top it off? The defeat stung worse than any other James could remember.

As he lumbers back up toward the castle after the match, frustrated and furious, some Slytherin fans jeer at him from across the lawns. It pushes him over an edge, and he turns to — well, he’s not sure to what; berate them? beat them up? — a strong hand grabs his shoulder and turns him back around.

“Easy, mate. They’re idiots but they’re not worth it,” Sirius says easily. Sirius of all people being the voice of reason has James realizing maybe he needs to calm down.

James falling into step with Sirius without a word, the two make their way back up to the castle.

When they get to the common room, it’s packed with mad and sad-looking Gryffindors consoling each other, complaining about bad calls, bad-mouthing the Slytherins: a typical post-match defeat.

“Thank Godric,” Sirius sighs, heading immediately to a small table stacked with firewhisky. He grabs two glasses, but James stops him before he fills the second one.

“No thanks, mate. Don’t really feel like the company,” he says, scanning the room. He admits to himself there is one face that would have made him stay, one person whose company was actually the only thing he wanted right now. But he doesn’t see you. So he stalks off, bounding up the stairs to his currently empty dormitory.

He’s lying on his bed, tossing a ball up and down when he hears a soft knock.

“What?” he yells, the harshness of his voice even surprising him a bit. Surprise shifts to horror when your beautiful, blushing face peeks around the door.

“Hi, Jamie,” you say shyly. “I’m sorry. Sirius said you wanted to be alone. I should’ve listened. I didn’t mean to annoy you. I’ll just —”

“Wait, wait, wait,” he rushes, going over to you and pulling you into his room. “I’m so sorry, love. Please don’t go.”

You smile a bit at this, looking down at your feet before nodding slightly.

“Ugh, I’m a prick. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you.” His voice is soft now, warm and enveloping as you look into his pleading eyes.

“It’s okay,” you chuckle. “I get it. Rough night, huh?”

“Yeah,” he chuckles, smiling for the first time all day. You had a way of bringing that out in him.

“Want a hug?” you offer. He nods immediately, internally cringing for being so uncool in front of you.

“Yes please,” he half laughs.

You step close to him, and even this increased proximity has him reeling. He can’t wait to feel your warmth around him, to smell your hair as he nuzzles into you.

He’d been hoping to win tonight’s match for more reasons than one. He hated Slytherin for starters. He loved winning for seconds. But also, he had been hoping a Gryffindor victory party could be the perfect place to finally tell you how he feels about you. Firewhisky flowing, adrenaline pumping, maybe he’d finally have the courage he was supposed to have as a Gryffindor and tell you the truth.

You bring your arms up around his shoulders, pulling him close to you, bringing one hand to his messy hair and scratching comfortingly. James’s large body immediately melts into yours. He hums into the crook of your neck, and you giggle.

“Thanks for coming to check on me,” he whispers into your shoulder, holding you close.

“Why would I want to be downstairs wallowing with everyone else when I could wallow with you?” you tease, pulling back slightly to be face to face again. He hates how much he just wants to pull you back into him.

“Oh, I’m much better company than those wankers,” he plays along.

“Yes, I’m sure. Seems you’re quite chipper from your greeting.”

He cringes and whispers “sorry” again. You shake your head quickly, wanting him to know you’re only teasing.

The silence stretches a bit too long, neither of you knowing what to say. It’s especially awkward because your hands are still on his shoulders, his on your hips.

“So what were you doing?” you ask, coming up with nothing better.

“Just lying in bed, wallowing,” he confesses.

“Sounds fun,” you chuckle. You break apart from him, the tension becoming too much and head over to his bed, plopping down onto it. He laughs and follows, sitting close next to you. “What do you want to do?” you ask, your voice low. “I came to cheer you up, but I think I’m doing a bang up job so far,” you chuckle, scrunching your nose.

Before thinking about it, James brings his hand up to your face, lightly tracing his finger down your nose for you to relax it.

“You’re not,” he says earnestly. “I’m already better, just having you here.” He thinks he feels your face warm where his hand still caresses it but pushes the idea down, not wanting it to be wishful thinking.

“So what do you want to do?” you ask again gently.

“Honestly?” he asks shyly. Nervous was a weird look on him, usually so cocky.

“Of course,” you giggle in your warmest tones, wanting him to be open with you, relishing in the intimacy you seemed to be building.

“I want to keep lying in bed wallowing.”

You stiffen immediately, chiding yourself for misreading his nerves. He wanted you to leave; that’s why he seemed shy.

James sees — and feels — you tense at his words, and luckily for him, he realizes right away what you’re probably thinking. He continues before he can stop himself, dreading your leaving more than dreading saying something stupid.

“With you,” he adds hastily. He feels himself blush, hates it, but pushes on. “I want to lie in bed and wallow… with you,” he repeats more softly.

“Oh,” is all you can think to respond.

“I mean, just hang out, you know. I just… you just… I just like hanging out with you. And even just your hug made me feel better,” he rambles sweetly.

You smile and pull away from him a bit. Before he can be disappointed, though, you’re pulling him with you as you shuffle further back onto the bed, lying down and bringing him horizontal with you by the shoulder.

You’re lying next to each other, both tense, facing the ceiling, your sides grazing but nothing more. You look over at him, and he looks at you, and you both look away like idiots.

You take a deep breath, reminding yourself he literally just told you he wanted to be here with you, clinging to that to give you the courage for what you were about to do. You turn toward him and bring your hand up to his hair. His eyes snap to yours. First they show shock but that quickly melts to adoration. Then they show nothing at all as they close in comforted bliss. You chuckle softly and see the corners of his mouth tug up at the sound.

“Feels nice,” he whispers.

“Yeah?” you whisper too. He just nods.

You shuffle closer to him, and he turns his body towards yours. Your arm is cramped now between your two close bodies, so you do the reasonable thing for comfort, you tell yourself, and wrap your arm under his shoulders. His face coming to the crook of your neck, you miss the huge smile that breaks out on it at the contact.

He’s lying on your shoulder now, the rest of his body flush with yours. Your arm is around him, your hand coming up to continue playing with his hair. James brings his arm over you, hugging you close, and you place your arm on top of his.

It crosses James’s mind that friends don’t cuddle. But he stops his internal monologue in time to savour the moment rather than over-analyse it, which he’s bound to do later.

You just lie there in silence for a bit, the tension having eased considerably.

In your warm, comfortable cocoon, you bring your face closer to the top of his head on your shoulder and nuzzle him a bit. He just hums in response.

“You’re comfy,” he says. It sounds muffled, his mouth squished against your shoulder. You laugh, and it shakes him up and down the slightest bit.

James loves the feeling of your vibrating chest just below him. He can’t help himself and tickles you where his hand rests near your ribcage. You laugh louder. You hold down his arm to stop him and playfully shake him off a bit to protect yourself from more tickling. His grip tightens in response, and he’s almost on top of you by the time he’s done adjusting himself.

“No, no, don’t go,” he chuckles. “I’ll stop.”

Your laughter has mostly subsided, but your voice is raspy as you respond, “Promise?” He nods into your shoulder. “Fine. I’ll stay if you behave.”

He laughs, squeezes you, whispers, “Promise.”

Any tension that had been left has dissipated completely, and you fall into easy chat as you hold each other close. Your hand continues playing with his hair, tugging it when he says something stupid. His arm draped over you occasionally squeezing you more tightly whenever either of you says something nice. You go over the highlights of the match, lamenting the result. Without realizing it, you start talking about any and everything else, and by the time the conversation lulls for the first time, both of you chuckling lightly, James wonder how much time has gone by. Not enough, he thinks to himself, wishing this would go on forever.

The quiet, your hand in his hair, your warmth radiating around his body, it all soothes him into a half slumber. It washes over him how exhausted his body is from the match, how tense it had been from the fury at its result.

“This is nice,” he slurs.

“Mmhmm,” you hum.

“I’m not even mad anymore.” He sounds astounded even in his sleepy tones. You chuckle.

“Good.”

“Mmmm. We’ll prank the Slytherins tomorrow. And I’ll think of another time to tell you how I feel.” Your hand halts its motions. James is still completely relaxed, and you realize he’s pretty much half asleep, not truly realizing what he’s saying.

You don’t want to take advantage of him in this state, but you want to be honest with him too, and he clearly wanted to talk to you about whatever this was.

So, you warmly whisper, “How do you feel, Jamie?”

“I love you,” he mumbles. You’re melting at his words, and you can’t wait till tomorrow to say them back. You shift your weight so you’re more facing James than under him, and this rattles him a bit more awake. His drowsy eyes are heavy initially but then they startle slightly. Before he can worry or regret, you hold his face gently in both your hands, your thumbs caressing his cheeks.

“James…” He just looks deeply into your eyes, his eyebrows furrowed, not saying anything. “I love you, too.”

His face shifts as if in slow motion. His eyebrows rise; his lips smile widely; his eyes crinkle.

“You love me?” He sounds equal parts giddy and disbelieving.

“Yeah, I love you, you grump.” He chuckles. “You love me?” you echo.

He takes his time responding. Scanning your features adoringly. Eventually, finally, calmly and assuredly he says again, “I love you,” nodding as he closes the little distance between you.

Your kiss is slightly awkward at first, your lips smiling automatically at his words before realizing they’re being called on to take on new, intoxicating shapes.

#james potter #james potter x reader #james potter fanfic #marauders #marauder x reader #marauders fanfic #james potter fluff #james potter imagine #harry potter fanfic #sirius black

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nonexistent-introvert · 1 year

Text

Alternate Reminder

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x F!reader

Word Count: 3.4k

Content: Miguel has trouble trying to treat you fairly when you remind him too much of what he had lost. Angst, misunderstanding.

A/N: I havent truly proofread this so I'm sorry. This took super long.

Part 2

Miguel thought you were special. He thought it was maybe the universe giving him a second chance when he saw you. His first love and his beautiful wife, standing in front of him while wearing a Spiderman suit. Maybe, he was destined to be with you, after all, a universe where you could understand him. A universe where he could finally be happy with you and Gabriella, a universe that he actually belonged to and he didn’t have to worry about destroying a whole universe just to be with you.

The only problem? This version of you had zero ideas of who Miguel O’Hara is. Miguel thought it was a canon event, for the both of you to fall in love. In most universes he had been to, you were with Miguel. In most, you were happy and had a family with him. In the more unfortunate universes, things didn’t work out between the two of you. The only thing that was unchanged was that Miguel and you were bound to find and fall in love with each other at one point.

However, Miguel hated your guts. His amor was sweet, responsible, and well-organized. You were the complete opposite of that. You were rude, irresponsible, and very messy as a person. He dared say that you were the messiest person he had ever met. There was no sign of organisation at your workstation. Papers were messily stacked on top of each other or swept across the desk. The mini shelf you had beside your desk was filled with books that were all falling to one side, some had completely collapsed. More files were squeezed on top of the books. Miguel’s greatest pet peeve was seeing the bent and folded pages being shoved into a file. The urge to help you reorganize was almost too big for him to handle causing the frustration to build up and was let out onto you instead. Miguel groaned as he met eye contact with you while he was buying his morning coffee. It was almost insulting to him how you had the same exact face as her, the woman he falls for in every universe.

On the opposite side of the same coin, you loathed Miguel O’Hara. He was bossy, pompous, and couldn’t take a single joke. Any conversation you have had with him ended up in the both of you arguing. Sarcasm was something everyone around you had gotten used to, except for Miguel of course who never seemed to catch on. He would simply give you a judgemental stare before giving a literal answer which you would roll your eyes at. At that point, Miguel would think that you’re being rude, and depending on his mood that day, he would either scold you or scoff at you.

“Just get over it, you’re always mad at Miguel anyways. I thought you would get used to it by now.” Gwen sighed, giving you the same response every time you ranted about Miguel. “It’s not like you don’t know the big guy,” Hobie said nonchalantly, having long gotten used to your rants about Miguel. “You hate him, we get it.” Pavitr groaned, complaining for the umpteenth time about how you always seemed to be talking about Miguel. Gwen chuckled, “If you didn’t point out every single flaw of his so heartlessly every time you rant about him, I would think you have a crush on Miguel or something.” Gwen said. “Hell no. I’m not fucking blind.” you defended, offended she would even think this way. “You gotta admit, big boss is quite the looker, too bad he’s a prick.” Hobie pointed out. “Speak of the devil,” Pavitr warned, straightening up as he stared at Miguel who was walking to your table’s direction.

You merely glared in his direction. Gwen was right, you should be used to him by now. He shouldn’t be getting under your skin so easily. So why can’t you just ignore him? Why does your mind always drift to him when you’re alone, why do you realise when he was due for a haircut? How his hair curls at the end when he lets his hair grow, how he reaches 10 minutes early to any appointment, and how he would get his coffee at exactly 9am in the morning. You shook your head, riding yourself off those thoughts. There was no way you actually had some sort of attraction to him right? Your mind drifted to the fight you had with him 5 days ago, his words still causing a dull ache in your heart. The both of you always fought but you were sure Miguel was going to kick you off the team until he called your friends the next day and gave you a mission through them while also completely disregarding your presence if he saw you around after.

===================

“Mind your own business!” Miguel exclaimed, you flinched at his harsh tone. “I was just-” “Who said you could touch my property?” Anger was practically the only emotion in his voice as he pushed you to the side. “Lyla told me you were having some troubles, that your screens had some kind of issue-” You gritted out, closing your eyes to calm yourself too. You only had good intentions to fix the issues he was fixing and now you were being accused of invading his privacy. You couldn't even remember any of the files that appeared on the screen while you were fixing his terrible code. Too focused on solving the technical errors to be poking your nose into his business. “I don’t need your help,” He seethed. “She was going to help you, Miguel. You have been complaining about it and even I can’t help you, you very well know she’s the only one equipped with the knowledge to fix this.” Lyla defended you. The fury in Miguel’s eyes scared you as well, “You need to mind your own business as well.” He snarled to Lyla before turning to you, switching off the orange screens completely. “I would rather let everything burn to hell than trust you to fix anything. You’re a fucking mess if you didn’t realize. ” Miguel spat.

It was your last straw. You had more self-respect than let anyone speak to you like that. “Kick me off, fucking kick me off already. You hate me anyways, right? So why do you bother keeping me around?”

“Get out!” Miguel bellowed and you didn’t need him to repeat himself. You took off the watch on your wrist and threw it to the floor, letting it break into pieces. In that moment, his words hurt you more than glitching ever would.

============

Peter found you at a bar in your universe that day. You downed another glass of whiskey at the sight of Peter, you were in too bad of a mood to talk to anyone now and you know you would regret it if you lashed out at him.

Peter didn’t say anything, simply sitting beside you and staring as you downed one glass after another.

Peter ordered a drink, taking sips of his drink as he decided on the best approach to talk to you. Your anger was practically radiating off you, making everyone else stir clear of you.

“He’s all bark no bite.” Peter started. You scoffed lightly, letting the silence fall between the both of you. You turned to peter, feeling bad for putting him in an uncomfortable situation. “You heard already huh.” Peter simply shrugged, “Word travels fast. Practically the whole society knows.” You downed another glass at that, you wondered how much the story had changed as it was passed from one person to another. It was probably a field day at headquarters.

“There is barely anyone at headquarters, Miguel has been bringing hell to anyone he even makes eye contact with,” Peter answered as though he could read your thoughts. You had to bite back your words, to tell Peter that you really couldn’t care less about Miguel now nor did you need the company. Silence fell between the both of you, Peter lightly bobs his head to the music that was playing in the bar to relieve the tension that was building up. He was never one for tense situations. “You know, you’re not really that different from Miguel.” Peter immediately put his hands up in defense when you practically growled at his comment. “Well, it’s just that both of you would rather die than talk about your emotions. Thankfully, I managed to crack Miguel so I think I can do it for you too.” Peter confidently stated. You remained silent, swirling the whiskey in your hand. You didn’t trust yourself to not lash out at Peter, especially when he’s practically comparing you to Miguel. The man you hated in all of the multiverse

“Hm, silence. Miguel screamed at me when we reached this point.” Peter observed, laughing nervously at the memory of his talk with Miguel. “I guess I’ll just go on first then.” Peter wrung his hands nervously. “I’m sure Miguel didn’t mean anything. You just hit a sore spot.” You scoffed again, “What? By trying to fix his stupid system?”

Peter took another swig, he definitely needed the alcohol. “Do you not know about what is on those screens? One that probably popped up while you were fixing it.” “Contrary to popular belief, I wasn’t snooping on him. I was focused on the system itself.” You defended. Peter cringed ever so slightly at your response. “There is this girl on the screen, the one with a happier, better-looking Miguel.” Peter took another swig, this really wasn’t his story to tell. You pursed your lips, you did remember seeing the footage that Peter mentioned. You had to force yourself to look away, that you were invading his privacy.

“That’s his daughter.” Peter finished, trying to gauge your reaction. You simply preserved a blank look and Peter groaned slightly, he detested how stubborn you were. “Miguel found a universe where he had a family and was happy, but him in that universe had an accident so he replaced himself. Some butterfly effect happened and the whole universe collapsed on itself and he lost everything.” Peter explained. You finished your drink, everyone has lost someone. You understood why it was a sore spot but it doesn’t justify being a total asshole.

“Miguel didn’t mean anything he said to you. It was just- tough.” Peter finished. “I didn’t even do shit Peter, just decided to fix his system and he accused me of invading his fucking privacy. It’s not like he’s the only one who lost someone. We all did.” Peter shuffled uncomfortably in his seat. “He just fucking hates my guts and I don’t know why? He literally told most people about my past when he explains about anomalies so why is he so mad when I know about it?”

“Because you have the same name and face as his wife, the woman who he falls for in every universe.” Your jaw dropped at the information. You couldn’t ever fathom the thought of you and Miguel even being in love. The anger in you simmered ever so slightly. It would explain how his features softened when he sees you sometimes, the vulnerable look in his eyes when he stares at you for too long. A stranger with memories, that is what you are to Miguel. Miguel tries his best to treat you like others. It was exceptionally tough when you shared the same name and face as the woman he had spent his happiest moments with. “He never told me,” you told Peter. Peter shook his head, “No one was allowed to tell you. Not like many people knew anyways. He didn’t want to stir up any unnecessary trouble. You know how he is, he doesn’t like it when people try to share his burdens.” You pursed your lips, cursing out your alcohol tolerance. It was times like this you wished you could just forget everything. “It doesn’t matter. Miguel probably wants me out of his life.” Peter threw his hands up frustratedly. “If he wants you out he wouldn’t send me here to tell you about everything.” Peter admitted. Peter was worried when he heard the news of you and Miguel having a fight which is what brought him to talk to Miguel. Peter wouldn’t be able to find you by himself, only Miguel could. You closed your eyes, you had enough of everyone. You were so exhausted, everything has been so draining.

“Just leave me alone alright?” You said, stumbling out of your seat slightly before leaving the bar and Peter behind.

======================================

“The anomaly was caught. We ensured there were no loose ends. Everything should be fine.” You reported to Miguel. Your hands were behind your back, there was a blank look on your face. Miguel bit his lip slightly at your cold demeanor toward him. He used to complain about you taking things too lightly. When you would stroll into his office with a grin, confidently telling him all the details of the mission even if it was insignificant. Now, you told him the bare minimum with a professional tone and stand.

Miguel used to complain and bluntly tell you that he didn't care for some of the details you told him after. Details like you and Gwen dropped by a Mcdonald's to grab some fries or that you also managed to finish a recent show. Now he wishes you would tell him, instead of you acting like this., all quiet and serious. Miguel took a deep breath, staring at you as the platform descended. He looked away slightly, knowing things were still tense between the two of you. “Sorry about that the other day. I was not in the right place.” He apologised, forcing himself to meet your eye. Your expression was still blank, “It’s fine.” You brushed it off like you hadn’t been thinking about it ever since. “If that’s everything, I’ll take my leave now.” You told him, bowing slightly as you turned. Miguel flinched at the tone. “Wait.” He wanted to stop you from leaving. Then his head turned to the orange screens behind him that glitched every so often. “Would you-” Miguel hesitated, thinking if this was the best move.”

“I- can you help me fix the screens?” Your eyebrows raised in surprise. “I promise I won’t lash out at you.” Miguel weakly joked. You simply nodded, stepping up onto his platform. Miguel stared at you, you were so unlike yourself. There were no teasing comments, no laughter, not even a hint of a smile. You stood in front of his screens, diligently and skillfully opening and typing away a new code. Miguel shifted and fidgeted behind you, he was wrecking his mind for a conversation topic. You were the one who usually initiated or continued the conversations. His mind replaying all the conversations he had with you. A smile tugged on his lips, music was your common ground with him. He remembered how your eyes twinkled when you talked about your favorite songs.

“I recently got into classical music.” Miguel shared. Miguel was half-convinced that he wouldn’t get a reply when you let his words hang in the air while you focused on the task at hand. “Oh? Mahler?’ You finally replied. His eyes widened. “How did you know?” He was greeted with silence again and only then did he appreciate how quick your responses used to be. “I just want to know, because you seemed really confident about it. Did I tell you?” Miguel filled the silence himself. “I just saw it.” You gestured to the screens. He nodded, letting the tense silence take over again. You were never so quiet, he never had to deal with this uncomfortable silence when he was with you.

“You changed.” Miguel blurted out. There was no response from you as you continued working on the screens. You didn’t know how to respond either. The news about you being an alternate version of his wife, it was rather overwhelming. You used to spite him and annoy him just for the fun of it, but after everything, you couldn’t bring yourself to do it anymore. His gaze made you self-conscious now, of what he thought of you, and nor did you want a repeat of what happened that day. You did a lot of thinking the past few days and you had to come to terms with the fact that you didn’t hate Miguel O’Hara. You couldn’t hate him. The thought of him hating you, it was terrifying.

“What?” You muttered, Miguel barely caught onto your response. He placed his hands on his hips, looking down. “Look, I’m really sorry for that day and I know I can’t take back anything but I really hope you don’t distance yourself from me because of that.” Miguel swallowed, it was publicly known that the both of you never seemed to get along but the thought of you becoming cold to him made him shiver to his core. “You’re overthinking things.” You stated plainly, forcing out a laugh. Miguel sighed, “You just seem, very different. Let’s not even talk about our interactions. You have just been more distant with everyone, you’re taking things way too seriously and well, you’re a lot more well organised now. The biggest shame was losing the constant smile, boosted many of their morale even in the most difficult of times.” you swallowed bitterly, debating internally if you should snap at Miguel right now while you stared at the screens before you. “I had to work on not being a mess right?” You answered, quoting his exact words. Miguel’s eyes flashed with a hint of pain and you knew it was a low blow. He had already apologised, you’re the one who keeps bringing it up. But those words haunted you even till now.

“You really changed huh?” Miguel continued. He didn’t expect you to use his words against him. When you know that he regrets it, it was a low move even for you. “It’s done.” You announced, ignoring his comment towards you. Your patience was thinning again. He merely glanced towards the screens before looking at you again. “You’re not the person I knew,” Miguel stated plainly. You turned your head to him.

“I’m not the woman you had in mind, Miguel! I’m not your fucking wife and I’m sorry you had to go through that.” You looked away, running your hands through your hair in distress. “I never was. I’m sorry I remind you of her but I’m not her.” You snapped at him. Walking out of his office. Everything made sense now. Miguel would be annoyed and frustrated with you most times, but there were times that he acted differently towards you. The times when he had carried you to a more comfortable place when you had fallen asleep on your table, the jackets that he had given to you to keep you warm still hung in your closet. The late-night conversations where he was more vulnerable towards you and had conversations with you about your interests while you hung from the ceiling, claiming that it helped you stay awake while you sift through the paperwork with him. You found it weird how he could hate your guts one second but be even sweet to you when it was just the two of you. At one point, you even thought you had fallen for Miguel O’Hara.

You shook your head, ignoring Miguel behind you as you rid the thought of even entertaining a possibility with Miguel. He never treated you as you are, he never liked you for who you are.

You simply shared a face and name with the woman he was destined to fall for.

You chuckle at how foolish you were while you stepped on the watch that Peter had given to you as replacement for your old one.

“I fucking quit.” You announced to a surveillance camera in the hallway, knowing fully well that he is monitoring the camera for your whereabouts now.

Miguel angrily swept the files off his table, growling out in frustration. He buried his face in his hands, he never saw you as the woman who he had fallen for and had Gabriella with. Sure, there were a few times your identical looks made his heart pace with what could have been. However, Miguel had started spending more time with you and getting to know you as a person. In those times, he reckoned he enjoyed it too much.

There was no way he was falling for you right?

Was there a point even if he did? You had already left him.

Miguel O'Hara always messes up his own happiness. That seems more like his canon event than falling in love with you.

#miguel o'hara imagines #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara #spiderman #spiderman 2099 #spider man #spider-man #into the spider verse #spider verse #across the spiderverse #atsv miguel #spiderman atsv #miguel ohara #miguel x reader #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o’hara x you

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kisses4kaia · 9 months

Note

MORE BROTHERS BEST FRIEND BILLY THE KID I BEG OF YOU

GIBSON GIRL .ᐟ

pairing— brothersbestfriend!william h. bonney x fem!reader

warnings— smut, forbidden relationship, p in v, oral (m and f receiving) EVERYONE IS LEGAL!!

a/n— this took an absurd amount of time sorry! she’s here now tho so plz reblog if u enjoyed! (also not a part two to the first one 🤍)

“billy, make sure she’s safe while i’m gone, will you?” jesse asks his best friend in reference to you, his innocent, sweet, little sister. and naturally, without any hesitation, billy nods. “of course, always,”

there’s something about his tone when he says it, something that hints that his opinion of you isn’t entirely fraternal, but perhaps something more profound. jesse doesn’t catch onto that, though; never having been the brightest tool in the shed.

almost ignorantly, he just nods at billy in respectful acknowledgment, kisses you on the cheek, all before leaving the house, heading into town for whatever errands needed running, leaving you and billy alone for many unsupervised hours.

god, the tension between the pair of you was palpable—thicker than molasses and sweeter than it, too. to make matters worse for the outlaw, recently, you took up a new hobby—making billy squirm. making innuendos just barely passable as innocent banter, being on your best behavior and letting him know you were like this just for him, then going and turning it around completely, becoming a complete and total brat, not heeding to mind a single word he speaks.

and fuck, it was driving him insane. he felt so ashamed of himself on nights when all his mind could conjure up before bed was images of you—images the lord would frown upon sincerely—and end up with a cum-splotched torso and a still unsatiated cock. he hated you for it.

you, with your too-tight denim shorts in july, and with your ribbons in your pigtail plaits, and your sweet, soft, wickedly tantalizing, eyes and even more venomous voice. everything about you drove him mad, and it was the very nature of your relationship that irked him the most—because, he knew, as desperately as he wanted, he could not have you. you were his best friends little sister, for christ’s sake! it was never bound to end well for him. honestly, he felt like the fates had fucked him.

so now, when you are in your bed, reading a romance novel you’ve already read twice, something outside of your window catches your eye. billy is currently out on the farm with the horses, tending to them. not an uncommon sight, however since it’s august, and this is the midwest, and it is hot—almost naturally—billy has abandoned his linen, button-up, shirt and is wearing nothing but a dirt-stained wifebeater, his trousers, and gun holster—and of course, his cowboy hat. you bite your lip at the display, sure this must be a product of one of your many erotic dreams about your brothers best friend, but all of that is debunked when he looks up at you, his catching the way your bottom lip is folded behind your teeth and your lingering gaze is burning onto his toned arms—probably a result of workin so hard as a farmhand and cowboy his whole life, you reckon—and meeting your piercing gaze.

you decide to push yourself off of your pretty, bowed, sheets and make your way downstairs to the trouble that lies within the man you grew up right next to.

“you know, it’s rude to stare,” billy chimes while you sit on an old, rackety, rocking chair residing on the back porch of your house, watching billy on the ranch. “and you think i’m above being rude?” you cock your head slightly, almost challenging him but not quite. he rolls his eyes, obviously wanting to snap back but can’t find it in him, not when you’re looking at him like that.

soon, he’s done with the work needed to have been done (admittedly, he did make haste so as to keep you waiting on him), and he’s grabbing his shirt off the pole of the wooden fence that is caging the horses in, tying the sleeves around his waist. he doesn’t spare you a single glance as he walks into the home, but you know he’s silently beckoning you to trail after him—after all, you were only out here to ogle at him, weren’t you?

when you enter the threshold of your home, your eyes land upon billy, who is pouring himself a glass of cheap whiskey and plopping down onto your couch.

“c’mon, sit down,” billy offers, sweat on his brow as the brown liquor swirls around the crystal glass, his legs spread wide and his demeanor exuding assertiveness. “well, now don’t be silly, there’s no other seat,” you acknowledge the lack of another sofa in the cozy living room, and the one billy did sit on, was only big enough to seat one. “oh, that’s no problem, doll, just sit on my lap, hm?” he cocks his head at you, daring eyes telling you all you needed to know. your raise your eyebrows and smile. “are you sure that’s what you want me to do?” your voice is a single warning, and billy is clearly throwing all caution to the wind, because he laughs. “c’mon, baby, i’m a big boy, i know what i want,” you knew what his underlying message was and the implication urged you to begin walking towards the couch.

blue eyes bore into yours as you throw a leg on either side of his thighs, skirt splaying over the tops of your thighs. he downs all the liquor in the glass before placing it onto the small coffee table next to him, eyes never leaving yours. carefully, but not fearfully, he drags a finger from your calf all the way to your waist, before both of his large hands take a rest at your love handles. “careful, billy,” you say in a singsong voice, allowing your hips to slowly, very slowly, begin moving downwards unto billy’s crotch. your arms lazily wrap around his neck, forearms resting on his strong, broad, shoulders. he kisses his teeth, bringing his face closer to yours ever so slightly, whiskey breath fanning over your face, chest, décolletage. when his lips finally encase yours, there’s so much built-up tension flowing in the passionate manner in which he kisses you, his palms grip onto your hips possessively before pressing all over your back, grappling desperately to get his calloused hands everywhere on your body all at once. he felt like he was drowning in you, but he would never call for help, for he needed you this instant and there was nothing stopping him from having you right here, right now.

“get on your knees,” he grits through his teeth, lust seething through the low growl that is his voice. you hardly think twice before moving back onto the plywood floor, knees already taking splinters, but you didn’t care, not when billy was unbuckling his denim trousers and letting his cock spring free from the confines of his boxers.

billy revels in the wide-eyed expression on your face as you take in his size. his cock was beautiful—angry, red, and proud, tip leaking with precum, pretty veins running vertically along the length. you swallow your surprise and slowly, you wrap a soft hand around the base of his length, bringing your lips down to his tip and pressing teasing kisses on it. the man above you lets out a soft groan, relaxing his muscles and allowing a strong hand to run through your hair, not quite gathering it yet, but maintaining it out of your face.

after peppering gentle kisses all over his hard cock, you finally flatten your tongue against the underside of him, licking up to the tip. you wrap your lips around his achy head and take as much as you can of him into your mouth, warm throat tightening around him. it takes everything inside billy to not immediately start fucking your fragile face, and when your tear-pricked eyes met his darkened blue ones, he roughly pulls you off of him. he throws you onto your back on the couch, like you weigh no more than a feather, hikes up your skirt and pulls your pale, pink, cotton, panties to the side. as he begins sliding his cock between your puffy folds, his tip brushes against your sensitive bud, and you whine, needing him to quit dangling the carrot and fuck you already. at the pathetic sound, billy just coos, pressing a gentle, loving, kiss to your pouted lips, before slamming his cock into your unprepared, sopping, cunt. you cry out against his lips and as he begins rutting his hips against yours, he’s trying to find restraint. he knows you probably won’t be able to walk properly for a week if he keeps fucking you like this, but the pent up tension finally being released urges him to keep fucking you primally—and plus, you wanted this, didn’t you? with your teasing, and your fucking miniskirts, everything you did was a beg for billy to fuck you into your place, right?

even in his sex-crazed state, billy’s still a gentleman who’s concerned with your pleasure just as much as his, and uses one of the hands he had rested beside your head to draw fast circles on your clit, pulling the most melodic sounds from you. they pushed him closer and closer to the edge and before you both knew it, billy was pulling out of your cunt, making you whine at the empty feeling, stroking himself a few times before painting your abdomen in his seed.

when he came down from his high, billy dropped down to his knees before you, skipping all the teasing he wanted to do (he would, next time) and licked a fat stripe up your slit, stopping at your clit and sucking momentarily. the muscle continued to work at you, dipping and fucking into your achy hole, and within minutes, your orgasm had crashed into you like a powerful ocean tide, struck by poseidon himself. you cried out his name, explicit weaved between your moans. billy just rides you through it, strong hands holding your wildly bucking hips down as you spasmed through your release.

“good girl, such a good girl,” billy cooed, the praise making your face go warm, even after he saw the most intimate parts of you. you brush off the compliment, afraid your own voice would betray you and instead reply “i take it this won’t be the last time we do… this?” and billy just chuckles darkly, picking you up off the couch and sitting himself back down, placing you prettily on his lap. “no, sugar. after this, you’re mine. understand?”

#.𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ 𝐤𝐚𝐢𝐚 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐬 !#kai's got mail <3📑#angelnon 🤍#𝐲𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐮𝐩 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭.. ✮⋆˙ !#billy the kid smut #billy the kid x reader #billy the kid imagine #billy the kid #billy the kid 2022 #billy antrim #william h bonney smut #william bonney #william h bonney #william h bonney x reader #billy bonney x reader #tom blyth smut #tom blyth x reader #tom blyth #tom blyth x you

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seros-chaotic-scribbles · 3 months

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Favorite Customer

sho haizono x [frostheim student] reader!

a/n: oh god i havent written a fanfic in YEARS! please be gentle with me (no beta because that's scary!!!)! apologies for any occ sho! this lil fic is dedicated to proxy from my TD guild! <3 enjoy!

The food truck had been a hit since it opened, attracting crowds of students during lunch and dinner. Faces blurred together and Sho struggled with keeping track of everyone. There were a couple of exceptions, of course, Subaru, Leo, the honor student, and you.

At first, he thought you were a bit strange. Unlike the others who stopped by you tended to change your order. Each day brought a new dish with a handful of customizations that made him think you were purposely trying to annoy him. The first time he had decided to confront you on it led to no results. You were an expert at dodging the question, a simple smile and flutter of your eyelashes had him stunned, stuttering and quickly turning away to work. It was the way you effortlessly seemed to brush off his passive-aggressive nature, the fact that you decided to tease him for it rather than glare due to the reputation of his house.

It made him feel… oddly soft.

He didn’t understand at first. The way his brain refused to comprehend your motives, the sudden increase in temperature that came with your arrival, the urge to prove that he could meet your requests with only a few complaints mumbled under his breath. He used to hate your visits, but now he looked forward to them. In fact, he was a bit worried at how Leo had started to pick up on his apparent ‘favoritism’…

“I told you, she’s just a customer.”

Sho felt like he had repeated that at least ten times now.

“Mhm… just a customer alright, one you let walk all over you anytime she smiles. I’m surprised you haven’t just started giving her meals for free.”

Leo’s tone was filled with disapproval and… disgust. It was hard to pinpoint the exact negative emotion he was expressing.

“Yeah, yeah… Whatever…”

Sho had begun to tune out Leo’s rambling, instead turning his focus to getting ready for the dinner rush. Classes were done for the day and students were bound to be hungry. Hopefully, you would show up early and—

“I mean, I don’t even understand what you see in her. She’s in the same house as that dumbass who tried to fight you. Isn’t that a sign to ignore her?”

Leo’s voice was starting to annoy him. Sho could deal with his own belittlement but hearing the way the silver-haired teen talked about you had him tensing. He knew he could put an end to his words but there would always be a consequence. Knowing Leo it’d be something stupid, especially with his newfound vice captain privileges…

“Don’t you think it’s annoying how she always has to have a different meal? Oh and those stupid customizations that she manages to get you to do! You always get mad at me when I change something so why don’t you get mad at her too? What’s the deal with that?”

Fuck the consequences.

Sho turned to face Leo, staring him down inside the small kitchen area of the truck. He watched his friend blink slowly as if he was confused by the anger that was building up in the truck.

“Get out.”

“What?”

“Get. Out.”

Silence filled the kitchen as neither of them moved. Tension started to thicken the air as the chatter of students could be heard. The rush would begin soon.

Leo moved first with a roll of his eyes.

“Fine, fine, I get it. Work has you stressed or whatever. Have fun!~”

Completely ignoring the real reason behind Sho’s anger, Leo took his leave with a cheerful smile. He didn’t seem to care about the state he had left his supposed friend in nor the fact that people were already starting to form a line outside the truck. At least Sho could use the rush to help get his mind off of Leo’s words and the… implications they held on his feelings towards you.

Time went by far too fast for Sho’s liking. His stomach held a slight knot from his earlier bout of anger and he struggled quite a bit with the number of students. He was definitely going to need to find someone to help… at least with prep work beforehand. It seemed like there was always something more to do.

But, what bothered him most about this rush wasn’t the work or the annoyance students showed when he took ‘too long’, it was the fact that you hadn’t shown up.

The sky was darkening and Sho watched as a few stragglers went towards their dorms. Soon the campus would be quiet. This had been the first time that you hadn’t shown up. You hadn’t mentioned anything at lunch about not being here…

So he decided to stay open. Just for a bit longer. Just in case…

The silence allowed him to think.

Leo had been pushing him earlier, that much had become obvious. But why? It was like he was trying to make Sho angry, trying to force a reaction out of him.

He didn’t… He didn’t actually like you, did he?

No. No, that was stupid.

You had become friends. That’s all. Friends.

Friends over a series of conversations, over food, over your careful observations of his cooking habits, over the way you endlessly seemed to come up with challenges for him, the gentle curiosity you showed, the concern when he mentioned leaving for training, or the bruises that followed.

He stood there, stuck in a particular memory. It was the day after a harsher training session with Alan, the bruise that had bloomed on his shoulder was obviously causing him pain. He tried to hide it and work through it, but you saw past his efforts.

He hadn’t realized it but the way you insisted he take a break, just a day off to heal, reverberated around in his subconscious. Your tone had been so soft, so sweet…

“Oh fuck.”

He did like you.

Leo had figured it out before him.

Sho just had to hope that he hadn’t gotten to you beforehand, talked to you about it, somehow twisted it, and—

“Hey, Sho!”

Your voice broke his thoughts, pulling his gaze to you. You seemed slightly disheveled, and out of breath as you approached the truck. Stray hairs stuck to your face as you tried to regain your composure.

Had you sprinted all the way here?

“Sorry, I’m so late! Luca—“ you took a deep breath in before flashing a bit of an embarrassed smile,” He went a bit rougher on training today. I was worried you’d already be closed and I’d have to sneak into the Vagastrom dorms just to have dinner.”

Sho blinked for a moment. You would sneak into his dorm… to see him? The notion had his ears turning red as he quickly looked away, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I would just bring you dinner at that point… Sneaking in would only get both of us in trouble.”

“Aww Sho! You care about me getting in trouble? That’s so sweet!~”

Your laughter filled the night air and for the first time that night, Sho felt his body relax. He shook his head before leaning against the counter of the truck, looking down at you.

“Whatever. What do you want tonight?”

He feigned disinterest but his small smile gave him away.

You pretended to look over the menu before meeting his gaze. There was a mischievous glint in your eyes. He wasn’t going to like this, was he?

“Let me cook for you.”

Huh?

Sho just stared.

Had he heard you correctly?

“What?”

“I said,” you held the word for a moment as you walked to the side door. There was no hesitation in your movements as you opened it,” Let me cook for you! It’ll be a nice change. Don’t look at me like that!”

He didn’t believe in your abilities. Maybe he shouldn’t make that obvious? I mean there was a reason you came to him for nearly every meal, right? He really shouldn’t let you…

But when you looked at him like that he didn’t know if he could say no. There was determination in your eyes and a confidence that you didn’t seem to have before. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt… Plus it was just one meal…

Sho sighed, crossing his arms and shaking his head. If this ended in disaster he would never let you live it down.

“Fine… Just don’t make a mess.”

“I won’t! Scouts honor!”

You did a two-finger salute before moving towards the fridge, opening it, and searching through the leftovers from the dinner rush.

“Wait…” Sho leaned against the counter, watching your movements as he considered what you said,” Were you ever even a part of the scouts…?”

Your lack of response didn’t help his confidence.

It wasn’t long before a pleasant aroma began to fill the food truck. You had ignored Sho’s questions about what you were making and instead kept the conversation flowing by asking about his day. He didn’t have much to tell but he hesitated when mentioning that Leo had been hanging out with him before the rush.

He saw the way your body tensed slightly upon the mention of his friend and the dread in his stomach from earlier returned. Had Leo mentioned something after all…?

“I don’t mean to be rude but…”

You started before trailing off, keeping your head turned towards the stove. You sighed for a moment before trying to start speaking again. It was clear you were putting a lot of thought behind your words.

“I know he’s your friend and all but don’t you think it’s rude that Leo knows you could use a hand but refuses to offer?”

Sho relaxed at your comment. You were just peeved with Leo’s laziness, nothing else. That was good at least.

He shrugged as he moved to stand next to you, peering over your shoulder curiously.

“Leo only does things that interest him. Plus, he’s a terrible cook.”

You snorted at that before glancing at Sho. He swallowed, trying to avoid staring at you but it was hard when you seemed so relaxed. The slight smile on your lips seemed to hypnotize him. They looked so soft.

Then he realized that you were saying something. Something that he had completely missed. He was an idiot.

“What do you think?”

Your voice was so deceptively sweet. You absolutely knew he wasn’t listening. He refused to admit it though. That would be even more embarrassing.

So, he looked away, awkwardly clearing his throat.

“I didn’t know you could cook.”

“You didn’t know or didn’t think I could?”

“Want me to be honest?”

“Sho!”

You lightly nudged him, pretending to be annoyed at his underestimation of your abilities.

“What?! You come here for almost every meal. It was a reasonable assumption.”

“Do you think I only come here for the food?”

Your boldness caught him off guard.

Sho turned back towards you, his heart beginning to race. His eyes were wide as he struggled to talk. He needed to say something! Anything! You were starting to look so unsure of yourself now, a blush taking over your features.

“Cute.”

No! Don’t say that!

He wanted to bang his head into a wall when your blush increased tenfold. He felt one of his own start to consume him as he started to rub the back of his neck. He should be suave, charming, not struggling like this.

You two seemed to be at a standstill. Neither one of you could speak or look away. It was infuriating but in the best way. Sho couldn’t help the smile that formed on his face as he cleared his throat.

Well, now or never right?

“I’m glad that you aren’t just using me for food.“

Oh, that had come out wrong. So wrong. He swallowed before trying to continue.

“I like seeing you every day! I wouldn’t mind if we, y’know, uh… spent more than just lunch and dinner together…”

He trailed off, suddenly unsure. He was trying to read your expression, it seemed to be a mix of shock and excitement. Your face was bright red and you were smiling. That was a good sign!

Sho hadn’t realized how close the two of you had gotten. He was lost in the moment, struggling with how to express this softer side of him that he hadn’t paid attention to your movements. He watched as you slowly blinked before starting to talk.

“I’d like that too.”

It was as if time was moving in slow motion, your lips had just begun to brush his when—

“Is something burning?”

Sho had pulled away when the scent of burnt… whatever it was you had been making quickly took priority over the moment you two had been having. The two of you quickly worked in tandem to try and save the meal but it turned out it was beyond saving, much to your frustration.

Luckily for you, there was someone who was more than happy to make you something else.

#Tokyo Debunker #shohei haizono #shoxreader #toyko debunker #toyko debunker x reader #leo kurosagi #mobile game #xreader #fem reader

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deathbyyoongx · 1 year

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everytime; chapter 6 — myg

╭ chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, ...

╭ word count: 5k

╭ summary: Everyone knew Min Yoongi as the guy who wouldn't say no to a nice pair of tits. His cocky attitude and stunning looks made it hard for most girls to resist. And even though you would like to say you're not like the others in that aspect, you unfortunately happened to be his ex. But even though you despised his guts for the last 3 years or so, he somehow managed to find himself a way between your legs on one semi-drunk night.

╭ pairing: fuckboy!yoongi x ex!reader

╭ genre: smut, angst, bit of fluff, more smut

╭ warnings: enemies to fwb, dom!yoongi, sub!reader, jealous ex!jungkook, bestfriend!jimin, hate sex, yoongi has a degrading kink but so does yn, brat taming, hair pulling, spitting, slapping, hickeys, choking, unprotected sex (STAY SAFE GUYS!), creampie, praise kink, hand kink, possessive yoongi, sexual content ofc, mentions of drinking, ...

╭ author's note: this fic is inspired by the song everytime by ariana grande. I also recommend using the chrome extension InteractiveFics for a better reading experience ;)

I'm sorry my dear readers it took so long. My life has been so busy this summer, but I'll finally have some free time soon. Not fully satisfied with this chapter, but I hope you'll still enjoy it <3

08/09/2023

The inevitable happened. Jungkook was standing in front of your door, right here, right now. You knew ignoring him was a bad idea and this was bound to happen from the start if you kept avoiding him. It also didn’t help that he interrupted your little self-love session which involved you pleasuring yourself by the mere thought of Min Yoongi. You’ve become your greatest self-saboteur. You just kept rethinking that night you were at his house where you were too much of a pussy to make a move. The scenario of that morning where he was just on display for you, ready for you to get rid of his morning wood. But no, you didn’t dare. The words of Yoongi just echoed through your head. ‘You’re a lot of talk when you’re drunk, but sober you’re such a pussy.’ You hated the fact he was right. But, back to Jungkook, before you were getting even more worked up.

“Look, I wasn’t planning to come over,” Jungkook said with a pleading expression, looking very apologetic about the fact he was bothering you today, making you feel even worse about ignoring him. “But I had plans with Joon and since you live right next to him, I just wanted to check on you for a second.”

No matter what happened between you and Jungkook, you could never be mad at him. You’ve known him for some time now, and you just knew how sweet that boy was. Whenever you’d text him in need, there he was. Whenever you wanted advice, a hug, or just a good laugh, there he was in front of your door. And that’s why you couldn’t break his heart again. You just knew how disappointed and heartbroken he’d become if he’d known about your little affair with Yoongi. You didn’t owe him anything, you knew that. You also knew, that the longer you postponed telling him, the worse he’d react. But every time you wanted to tell him, your heart blocked you off. “That’s sweet Jungkook, I’m fine though.”

“You've been distant, I barely hear from you anymore. Did I do something wrong?” Suddenly, you felt really bad about ignoring Jungkook as soon as he asked that.

“I know and I’m sorry. I’ve just been busy lately.” Oh, and busy you were, but for all the wrong reasons.

“With the move probably?”

“Yeah.” It wasn’t a lie, you have finally packed out all of your stuff, but it also wasn't the complete truth. But as long as you didn't lie, it didn't make you feel too bad. “Sorry if I made you think I forgot about you.”

“It's fine, u know I can't be mad at you.” Likewise. “Maybe I got too worked up over nothing.” Jungkook stayed quiet for a second. “If you want, I can ask Namjoon if you could join us. It has been a while since we’ve hung out.”

You couldn’t help but smile at Jungkook’s suggestion. “That's sweet, but I'm a bit tired.” And very horny cause you interrupted my little fantasy of Yoongi. “But I’ll text you to hang out as soon as possible, okay? I promise.” You held out your pinky finger to enhance your promise, waiting for him to link his with yours.

Jungkook smiled, teeth showing as well. You’ve been keeping promises like this ever since college. “Alright then.” He said while he linked his pinky with yours. “See you later.” After your wholesome goodbye with Jungkook, it was time to continue your sinful ‘fingerpainting’ session again if you wanted to function for the rest of the evening. Because, damn, did the idea of Yoongi drive you insane. But the moment you spread your legs again, that dreadful message of that girl popped back in your head, making you cancel all plans you had to finger yourself at the thought of that fuckboy. Remember that name Eunha? Yes, we all do. One thing led to another and now you were looking up her profile by searching through Yoongi’s followers. You hated her already. Not only was she drop-dead gorgeous, but you saw her feed was full of pictures of her and Yoongi. “Argh-“ You groaned out loud out of frustration. How could you compare to these beauties? You rarely felt insecure, but when it came to Yoongi? Damn, it’s as if confidence never crossed your path. The mere thought of Yoongi spending another night with another girl made you groan out loud out of resentment. You just kept telling yourself: ‘You know he’s a fuckboy, you shouldn’t obsess over this’. You were putting yourself in this situation. But the feeling of him wanting you just was too addictive. You couldn’t even differentiate the feeling of lust and love anymore around him. You just knew one thing for sure, you wanted him. That’s it. There was only one rational thing left to do now. Send him a nude. After some awkward posing half-naked in front of your full-body mirror, only wearing some black lace panties, you finally took a picture you were more than satisfied with. A proud smirk formed on your lips as you sent the picture to him with the caption ‘so long till Friday :(’.

Sent.

Where had your rational thinking gone whenever it came to Yoongi? You wouldn’t have done this for any other guy, but him? That man just made you do irrational things. You pulled on an oversized shirt as you just continued to scroll down Instagram, further stalking the girls that you saw tagged Yoongi in their posts. Not only the fact that there were other pretty girls that we’re fucking Yoongi was bothering you, but also the fact that it was so fucking many. This was just bound to happen. A hot successful single man in his twenties that loved to fuck around and was also good at fucking around? Of course girls would scurry to him like hungry rats. Maybe you shouldn’t think of those girls as rats, you bet they were lovely girls that, like you, couldn’t resist the charms of Mister Min Yoongi. This was your jealousy talking, but why were you so jealous…?

[21:06] Yoongi: Come over

The notification of Yoongi’s message popped up on your screen like a sign from above. You really wanted to come over, but you need to toy with him was even bigger. Plus, you were a bit irritated by scrolling through all those girls’ Instagram accounts, so no way in hell were you going to give in that easily.

[21:07] y/n: why would I head over to your house at this hour? It’s so dark out.

[21:07] Yoongi: you’re right

[21:08] Yoongi: on my way

Wait, what?!

Was he…really planning to come over? His text made you jump out of your seat and head as quickly as possible to the bathroom for a quick shower. You were all sweaty and stinky from work, no way that you could let him see or smell you like this. It took you an impressive 15 minutes to get ready, almost a new record. So there you were, casually sitting on your couch, acting as if you were not expecting anyone to ring the doorbell anytime soon.

Ding dong

An instantaneous smile formed on your lips, slapping yourself on the face to get rid of it as you jumped out of your seat. You gave yourself a last glance at the TV reflection, just to make sure you looked presentable. You fixed your hair and opened the front door, revealing a handsome-looking Yoongi, per usual. “Hi Yoon-” But the sudden feeling of his lips on yours interrupted your greeting.

He gently pushed you inside, closing the door behind him. “You’re such a tease.” He whispered in between kisses. His touch was gentle as if he was savouring every taste, this time not planning on another night of just talking. He deepened the kiss, his tongue gently teasing the seam of your lips, seeking entrance. No time could be wasted as your desires had been suppressed by your cowardness last night. You needed him now. You led Yoongi to your bedroom, a trail of stumbling over one another as you just couldn’t keep your lips off of each other. It became apparent neither of you were planning to take it slow by the way you were tucking on each other’s clothing, desperate to take them off this instant. In a swift motion, Yoongi took off your shirt, making him smirk at the sight of those familiar black-laced panties. He pushed you onto the bed before taking off his shirt as well, revealing his lean body and you could feel yourself getting wetter by the second. Your eyes travelled from his face to his neck, chest, and abs until they stopped as his ever-growing erection that was desperately waiting to be released from his jeans. He noticed your staring, making him say. “This is all yours.”

He hovered over you, pushing you further on the bed as his lips followed yours. “My girl got needy for my cock, huh?”

“Just a cock, to be honest.” You were really not into the whole ‘I’m going to stroke his ego even further’, not because you didn’t want to necessarily, but because you were a whore for him putting you in your place.

“You say that, but I bet you only sent that picture to me, didn’t you?” You were quiet, which made your answer all too obvious. “That’s what I thought.” Yoongi pulled back for a second, taking his time to admire your body which he can’t seem to get enough of. The way the lingerie complimented your curves, looking too pretty to take off. “You never feel to amaze me, damn-�� You felt your cheeks heat up out of embarrassment, making him smirk out of satisfaction. “Getting shy, huh? That’s how I know my girl.” He whispered in a husky tone before his lips met your neck.

Yoongi’s lips on your neck made you shiver, holding onto his shoulders for support. “No hickeys please, I have to work tomorrow.”

His hands travelled towards your core, gently rubbing against the already wet cloth in a teasing manner. “I’ll try.” He said before kissing you again, feeling him smirk against your lips. “I’m almost flattered how worked up you get from me.” He moved the slip of your panty to the side, his fingers finding their way to your soaked entrance. He glided his middle finger between your folds, using your own wetness as lubrication as he gently applied pressure on your sweet spot. A small whimper left your lips as your hands tightened themselves around Yoongi’s upper arms, making you realize how buffed he had gotten over the years. His middle and index finger hugged around your clit, slowly and teasingly circling around it, making it hard for you not to slip out a few moans. While your eyes were closed as you felt yourself getting lost in the pleasure, Yoongi's, however, were fixed on you as if he were studying you. Adjusting his every move by the way you reacted to it, unconsciously remembering how you like it. The way his hardness was pressed against his jeans made it almost seem like it was going to tear any second now, but how couldn’t he? Seeing you desperate for his touch was one of his biggest turn-ons, but there was one small thing leaving him not fully satisfied. “You can be louder than that.” Yoongi whispered in your ear, the tone of his voice low with a slight rasp. “I want to hear you.”

“I have thin walls.” You let out, gasping for air due to you covering your mouth to keep yourself down.

“Namjoon will not care.” Yoongi purred as he increased his pace, making it even harder for you to control yourself. He knew your neighbour and mutual friend liked to mess around himself, but that wasn’t the problem…

“Jungkook’s visiting him.” You said without thinking twice., almost regretting it instantly after those words spilled from your mouth.

“Uhu.” He said sternly, removing his hand from your precious core as the air was getting filled with anticipation. “In that case.” Yoongi unbuckled his belt, pulling it off his waist in a swift motion. “Give me your hands.” Without putting much thought behind it, you did as you were told as you held your hands in front of you. With a firm grip, Yoongi grabbed your wrists and started wrapping his belt around it, tying your hands to the headboard of your bed. Oh no…His fingertips were brushing down at the side of your legs, finding his way back to your most intimate area, carefully sliding down your panties. He felt empowered by your arousal, your cunt glistening from excitement. His lips followed suit, leaving a trail of heated kisses along your thighs before his tongue traced the slit of your hole. A small quiver left your lips as he pressed just the right amount of pressure on your clit, followed by short flicks. The world around you faded away as Yoongi focused solely on your pleasure, and you could tell he was trying to make a point by touching you with slow and teasing movements, making it hard for you not to whine out of sheer desperation.

“Yoongi, please-” You softly moaned, feeling rather unsatisfied by the minimum fulfillment he was giving you. Yoongi, however, did not make a sound as he continued teasing you. Every time you expected him to apply more pressure or increase the pace, he pulled his tongue back, and it almost felt as if you could feel his smirk against you. Due to Yoongi’s solution to make you unable to muffle your moans, the silence of the room was getting filled by your desperation. A whimper, a moan, and eventually a cuss in a mixture of Yoongi’s name slipped your lips. “Fuck-” The pleasure intensified, building an undeniable tension that hung in the air, aching to be released. Slow but surely, Yoongi did give in to your needs, making you want to grab onto the bed sheets but being unable to. The way his tongue rolled on your sensitive nub, not only added to your pleasure but made his even more desperate. You became a moaning frustrated mess, every flick of Yoongi’s tongue feeling like a tease. “Just make me come, please-” You cried, hopelessly waiting for your sweet release. “Please-” Tears from desperation rolled down your face in a mix with your mascara, a sight Yoongi loved to see.

Yoongi sat back up straight, wiping your wetness from his underlip. He looked at you with full earnestness, smirking at the state of your body out of amusement, a hint of sadism in his eyes. “Beg for it, tell me how much you want it.” He said in full seriousness, his eyes shimmering with pure lust and desire. His fingers were tracing the entrance from your folds, gently applying pleasure at the most sacred part. “Loud enough for me to hear it.” He smirked again.

“Yoongi-ah-“ He took your clit between his fingers again, using a quick circular motion to receive a reaction from you. “Please, please, please-” smirking at the tears mixed with your mascara rolling down your face. “I need you to make me come. You can do whatever you want with me, but just make me come.” With every move, you felt yourself growing closer, letting out another loud whine as he abruptly removed his fingers from you. You watched Yoongi lick his fingers as if you were a delicacy before he started unzipping his jeans for his own comfort. “Yoongi-” You called, rubbing your legs together to feel some sort of release.

After Yoongi took his jeans off, his boxers were the only thing away from revealing himself. “I know baby, I know.” He placed his hands on your thighs again, spreading your legs again, preventing you from continuing to self-pleasure yourself. “Does my girl want to cum?” Yoongi’s fingers softly caressed your slit, driving you even more horny and insane. A moan that sounded like a yes left your lips. “Hmh?” He teased as his fingers left again.

Feeling the absence of Yoongi’s touch was what drove you to sheer and utter desperation. “My fucking god-yes! Please, Yoongi, let me cum. I need you so badly right now.” You cried, more tears leaving your eyes. The louder your pleads got, the more satisfied he was. “Yoongi please-”

Yoongi let out an amused chuckle. “Look how desperate you are for me. What would your friends think if they heard you like this? Especially the neighbours.” He said, sure to emphasize that last part.

“I don’t care anymore, I just need you.”

“Good.” Yoongi placed your legs on his shoulders, keeping your thighs in a steady distance, his grip making it unable for you to move. His tongue tracing, what felt like love letters, on your aching clit, every flick driving you closer to your orgasm. After all that teasing, it didn’t take long for you to get there, feeling the knot in your lower body growing stronger.

“Yes, yes, oh my fuck-yes!” With an arched back and trembling legs, you finally reached your long-postponed climax, which was more intense than your body seemed to handle. And it felt as if you could feel it until the tips of your fingers, leaving your body in exhaustion. “Fuck Yoongi-“ You heavily panted, feeling his tongue still on your clit. “I’m too sensitive.” You whimpered, making him pull away.

“Awe, are you now?” He said with fake pity.

“Uhu.” You pleaded.

“Was it a bit too intense for my girl?” He asked, making you hum another ‘uhu’. “Poor thing.” He leaned in to kiss you, feeling his hand going near your back to take your bra off. “I want to see all of you.”

As you were catching your breath, heavily panting, you watched him take his briefs off which were covered in precum. “You’re doing so good, baby. Do you want the rest?” Was Yoongi’s way of asking for further consent, giving his dick a few slow strokes as he looked at you. You eagerly nodded your head, making him grin. “Of course you do.” Before he fully entered you, he traced the slit of your entrance with the tip of his dick, teasing himself before he slowly pushed himself inside of you. A drawn-out moan left his lips by the way your walls tightly hugged around him, a soft cuss slipping in between. He slowly and slightly pulled out of you, his cock glistening with the coat of your fluids around him. “I’ve missed you.” He groaned before thrusting in and out of you again. He was going rather slow as if he was savouring every thrust. “My pretty girl.” His hands were on your thighs, keeping your legs up for maximum access. You wanted to hold onto him, digging your nails into his back as your personal mark on him, but his personal handcuffs made that not an option. His thumb found your clit again, making your walls clench around him as he wanted to make you cum again. “Shit-”

“I want to touch you, please Yoongi.” You pleaded as you were tucking on your personal prison.

Heavy breaths left Yoongi’s lips. “Hmh, do you know?” He teased, that menacing smirk plastered on his face again. He slowly slid himself fully into you and you were pretty sure you could feel his tip touching the entrance of your cervix. “Shit-” After that, Yoongi increased his pace and you could already feel your legs shake. Hearing your moans as he filled you up was music to his ears. “And risking you covering your mouth again? No way. I want to hear my girl.” You wanted to tell him you’ll be a good girl and won’t do that, but he upped the pace again, making it hard for you to speak in general. Your tits were bouncing heavily on your chest, which was a beautiful sight to see for Yoongi. He quickly combed his hand through his hair, preventing his hair from blocking the sight he had in front of him. Sweat drops were forming on his forehead, making his hair damp but, fuck, did he look hot right now. Even though Yoongi was mostly focused on his pleasure as he thrust in and out of you, he made sure not to forget about you by the way his thumb was rubbing against your clit, feeling your walls clench around him as you were getting closer to your climax. Your moans were only getting louder, and in the back of your head, you knew you were going to have to explain yourself to your neighbour and friend tomorrow. “I want to feel you cum around my dick.” Yoongi groaned, his rasp indicating he was almost there. He slowed down the pace, focusing more on his finger work so you would get another round of pleasure.

“Oh god-“ You moaned as you felt another wave of ecstasy waiting for you. “Yes, yes-“ It felt as if his thumb was vibrating against your clit, your mind not fully comprehending how the fuck he did that. “I’m gonna-” But instead of the words, the loud moan that left your lips and the way your walls clenched around him, made it clear you reached your peak, making Yoongi increase his paste of fucking you.

The mixture of his postponed climax as protection of his ego and the sounds you were making, made him only seconds away of coming undone. To your surprise, he slid himself out of you, stroking himself down until you felt his cum on you, painting your whole body with it. A loud groan left his throat, head thrown back in pleasure. He stopped jerking himself off, taking a few deep breaths before looking back at you, staring like you were a masterwork. “My favourite looks so beautiful.” He smirked, kissing you softly before untying you. Your wrist hurt from the tightness of his belt, but for some reason, you really didn’t seem to mind. “Let me clean you up first.” Before Yoongi got up to go to the bathroom, he gave you one last kiss on the lips, taking his time before parting lips. You watch him leave the room, quickly finding his way to your bathroom as if he has been here before. You couldn’t sit up straight without making a mess since, yeah, you were covered in cum. It was almost impressive. Yoongi quickly came back, placing himself between your legs again for easy access. He was holding a wet towel, and when he was wiping away his hard work, you noticed he made it lukewarm just for your comfort. As he got you clean again, he leaned in to kiss you again, kissing your neck before kissing your lips. He gently cupped your face in the palm of his hand, looking at you with those beautiful brown eyes as he parted his lips with yours. “You did so good.” He whispered softly, his thumb slightly caressing your cheek.

You placed your hand on his and for some reason, your heart felt heavy. “Please stay the night.” You said with pleading eyes, making Yoongi smile softly at you.

“I had no intention of doing anything else.” He removed himself from the bed, grabbing his briefs again. “You want to wear my T-shirt?” He smiled as he put back his underwear, knowing how much you loved to sleep in them. You happily nodded, putting it on as soon as he handed it to you. Before Yoongi placed himself back next to you, he couldn’t help but notice the wall of pictures on one of y our bedroom walls. And the longer he started down that wall of pictures, the longer he kept staring at one photo in particular. “You still have that picture of us.”

You looked away from Yoongi for a second, even though you knew exactly what photo he was talking about. “Yeah, I do.” It was a selfie you had taken with him, back when the two of you were 17. You could tell you were young by the way you two looked. It just happened to be one of your favourite photos of all time. Not because of quality or how aesthetically pleasing the picture looked, but because it just locked many memories. The most beautiful memories with Yoongi to be exact. That’s when you reminisced about the time with him again. Him waiting after classes so he could walk home with you. He asked if he could do his homework at your place, even though you two did everything besides homework. And just the way he used to love you was so gentle and loving, nothing like he was now. You were his and his only. “It’s one of my favourites, actually.” You just felt a need to say that.

“One of your favourite pictures is one where I’m in the frame?” He teased as he got back in bed with you, pulling you by the waist to have you close to him. He didn’t ask because he thought you were weird for calling a photo with your ex ‘one of your favourites’, but rather out of reassurance that it really was your favourite, even though he was in it.

“Yes, it was before you were a dick” You chuckled, even though you didn’t really mean it. “I have a lot of good memories linked to you, you know. They’re not all bad.” You explained, the tone in your voice slightly saddening as memories and emotions of your breakup entered your head. “Besides, you were my favourite at some point, so it’s not that weird.” That’s when Yoongi’s words from before echoed through your head again. ‘My favourite looks beautiful’ Did he really mean that or was it just a heat of the moment kind of thing?

It was one of the few moments where Yoongi was the one who seemed to want to say something but stayed quiet instead. He seemed…conflicted. There was a brief moment when he looked happy, but then a hint of sadness waved over it. You couldn’t read his emotions and it made you frustrated. “Likewise.” That was all he said, but you knew Yoongi well enough to know that there was more on his mind.

When you woke up the next morning, a lack of a presence beside you made you wake up quicker than usual. After a few blinks, you noticed Yoongi wasn’t lying beside you. You felt your heartache, unknown why he wasn’t there. Your mind went to start thinking of the worst again, but before you could fully feel your heartbreak, you saw a little note on your bedside table. “Had an important meeting. Sorry, I couldn’t stay.” All your worries were suddenly washed over as you read the last sentence. “See you soon though :]” You felt like a teen again by the way you got so excited over a written note, making you put it in your drawer so you wouldn’t lose it. Besides Yoongi’s scent lingering throughout your apartment, you noticed an unfamiliar object lying neatly on your bedside table as well. And that’s when you realized…

Those were the panties you had lost at Hoseok’s party.

Rarely enough, you decided to have your lunch break with Jia. Usually, you would make some lame ass excuse as to why you couldn’t have your break together with her, avoiding any opportunity she could have to talk about Yoongi’s dick again. But today, you felt brave, agreeing you would eat together, making her ecstatic. “Please y/n?! You have to come!” Jia has been desperately trying to convince you to come clubbing with her for the last half hour or so. Guilt brews inside your gut as she’s unknown to the idea of Yoongi and you. How would she even react? She couldn’t be that mad since half of her friends have been sharing him. And the more you started to think about it, the more disturbed you were about that thought. “I bet you’ll love it.”

You doubted that. You enjoyed going home after a long work shift, but she does seem very persistent. Maybe you should go. “Alright…you convinced me.”

“Ugh, finally! You’ll have a great time, I promise! You can even bring your boo Jungkook” She teased before taking a big bite of your lunch, continuing to speak with a full mouth after that.

“Don’t say that-“

“If you don’t want him I sure wouldn’t mind taking a bite of that”

Jesus.

“I’ll ask him.” You smiled, making Jia hug you out of sheer happiness. You felt bad again. You knew Jia liked you, but all you could think about was Yoongi doing the things he did with you yesterday with her. It made you grow resentful towards her, even though she didn’t do anything wrong. You thought maybe, tomorrow, you wouldn’t feel like that anymore. You could see her in another light if it was just you and her and maybe some of her friends. Those friends who probably have had sex with Yoongi too though…No! You were not going to think like this! No man was going to ruin the beautiful opportunity of two women becoming friends. Especially a fuckboy like Yoongi. For a short while you thought you were above casual hookups, but lately you’ve been taking that thought into question.

Before your break was over, you texted the idea to Jungkook, hoping he’d say yes because no way were you going to survive that night without a familiar face. To your surprise, Jungkook wasn’t against the idea of clubbing with you after you texted him. On the contrary, he seemed to be really excited about it, telling you he has always wanted to do something like that with you. This makes you think there must be some underlying motivation for his answer.

Or maybe you were just overthinking it?

Taglist; @flowerblu00, @brinda-9, @seokjinkismet, @sugainmybowl, @mxxxnshine @arianalilyblack

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officialtayley · 4 months

Note

So... Plot twist

Hi everyone, is Emily/em/Sparks9397, make yourselves a snack this one’s long.

I have a lot I'd like to say, but think a good place to start would be that yes, I’m very sorry for how this played out and for what I did, though, the pics were about as far as the lie went, guess doesn’t matter either way but yes, I am a lawyer, yes I live in Australia, yes that’s my dog, yes I have a boyfriend, etc.

Honestly, I'm not mad at the anon in fact I was kinda expecting it? (someone was bound to get that’s not my pic), but you did caught me off guard last night and I panicked cause I thought better disappear and leave no trace behind, they all hate you anyways (you guys have been way too nice and fic gate is kinda funny), but I do like to twist the knife and did go back to it in the morning to check how badly i'd fucked up, is why i'm sending this.

if you want me to explain myself, well I was in a bad bad place last year when I started writing, the writing really help me through lots of stuff and for personal reasons i thought it was better not to add my pic, stupid me thought it was a good idea to share another person’s photo, who kinda looks like me if you want to believe that or not, but seems way happier, more stylish, more fun, etc and well you know how that ended...

Was it necessary to keep posting more pics that weren’t mine, no obv not, yet believe it or not somehow in the past year my life got way better and I made it out of that dark place and was excited to share more of my life, my mistake to not just come clean instead of keep pretending I was someone else.

Anyways, I could keep going with the apology but I don’t think it matters very much now, does it?

So I’ll just use this time to say I'm realy really sorry Meike @paramorewillbelegends and I’m really so so sorry Reese @dnd21, you both were really good friends to me and I'm so grateful to you both for being there for me when I had no one to talk to, sorry I couldn’t reciprocate and be a better friend to you.

Ps. A03 was more leveled headed than myself during this time and though I deleted everything and didn’t have backup they sent me a copy of everything which I can repost if that’s what you want, but yeahh guess that's it for me, and thanks to Ash if you end up posting this (no pressure).

i think your apology matters. you've obviously seen what i've said about what you did so i won't say anything more, but if you mean this then it's something people can forgive you for and move past.

i think it's better to do this than to do something drastic. as you can see, no one hates you, even any of us that may have sounded quite harsh, that's not hatred either. anyway, i appreciate that you sent this and i'm sure everyone else will appreciate it, especially your friends, so i'll post it because i think it's important and you didn't have to send it at all but you did, so again, i think it'll be very appreciated.

also you do whatever you feel is right with the fics. a lot of people may still want them but ultimately it's up to you and if you feel comfortable doing so.

#anon #answered #what a way to end ficgate

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iamvegorott · 3 months

Text

Magicians Don't Need Superheros Pt18

First: Link Prev: Link Next: Link

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Marvin hated to admit it, but Anti’s advice worked, and for the next week he was able to sleep in his room without any more trouble. He still spent most of that week in the library and watching stuff with Jackie but now he was sleeping peacefully and hoped Jackie was the same.

Right now, Marvin and JJ were sitting at the dining table, each with a cup of tea and chatting about plans for the day. JJ talked about wanting to get some reading done since he knew work would come back soon while Marvin talked about what show or movie Jackie would make him watch next. He also said he’d be in the library as well before their nightly watching and had some questions.

“Do you know who the romance books are for? I can’t help but be a little nosy.” Marvin asked with a chuckle.

“I’m not sure. They were here before I was and I never tracked if the collection of them grew or not when others joined.” JJ stirred some more sugar into his tea before sipping it.

“I would lose my mind if they’re Anti’s.”

“He was the first of the Septiceyes, perhaps they are.”

“I am going to give him so much hell.” Marvin had an evil grin before sipping his own tea.

“There’s nothing wrong with reading those cute romances. I’ll confess that I’ve read a few of them myself. Might as well since they’re there. And it’s nice to indulge in something sweet and happy.” JJ’s voice hummed in Marvin’s head.

“I mean, you’re right. There’s nothing wrong with those books, but I still have to tease Anti. Have to keep the playing field even. If he reacts the way he does at the mention of a crush on Chase, I can’t wait to see how he reacts to that.” Marvin used some magic to put a touch more sugar in his tea.

“Oh, he was far from having a crush on Chase.” JJ adjusted in his seat, leaning back with a confident smile.

“How do you know?”

“I am very good at reading people. I might not have the empathetic powers Mad has, but I can tell when someone has a crush and when someone is lonely. Anti will go on and on about being a ‘being beyond comprehension’ what he doesn’t mention is how that also applies to himself. He’s still trying to figure out how his emotions work so it’s not too shocking that he gets some of them mixed up. Chase is more of a brotherly, maybe even a fatherly figure for Anti. He won’t admit it to that degree, but he has a type of respect for him that he doesn’t for the rest of us.”

“I kind of hate that you have me seeing him more as a person.” Marvin joked with a light chuckle.

“Everyone’s more than just one note. We have our usual quirks and personalities, but there’s always more than the surface tells.” JJ winked with that comment.

“Something tells me that means you’re not as soft and innocent as you portray yourself,” Marvin smirked and all he got from JJ was another wink and a finger up to his lips.

“Sorry to interrupt and sorry for ruining any plans, but we have visitors that are showing up later,” Chase said as he walked across the room and stopped at the table, standing between JJ and Marvin. “I’ll let you know the time when I do.”

“The Ipliers?” Marvin guessed.

“Yes, but it’s not all of them. Just-” Chase stopped at his phone ringing. “And speaking of one of them.” He pulled his phone out and sighed. “You want to be team mom for a bit?” Chase asked JJ.

“Does that mean I’d be dating Henrik?” JJ twitched his mustache to add to his tease.

“We’re not-we’re just-shut up.” Chase sputtered out before walking off and answering the call.

“Wait, they’re not dating?” Marvin asked.

“They say they’re not, but, they’re one of the few groups of us that are one moment of intense emotions away from becoming a couple.”

“Oh? Who else is bound to start dating?”

“Give it some time and you’ll figure it out on your own.”

“That’s no fun. Save me some-”

“Pancakes!” Jackie cheered as he barged into the room, holding four plates stacked high with pancakes. He had one in each hand and the other two resting on the crooks of his arms.

“Let’s go, let’s go. I’m starving.” Anti thumped Jackie’s back with the bottle of syrup he held to get him to move and allow him to slip past. “Henrik made chocolate pancakes for me and I am going to go fucking wild on them.” He placed the syrup and the stack of plates he also held down on the table and took off again.

“Chocolate, blueberry, Peanut butter, and classic buttermilk.” Jackie put the pancakes down on the table as well and pointed to which one he was talking about. “If you want a chocolate pancake, I’d suggest claiming one now.” He added as he grabbed two of the peanut butter pancakes.

“I’ll steal one of them.” Marvin chuckled.

“The blueberry ones are for me.” JJ was already taking one of those pancakes.

“Hurry up and eat everything before Chase gets in here.” Anti laughed as he rushed back into the room, putting a tub of butter on the table and some knives and forks. He grabbed three of the chocolate pancakes and got to work slathering them with butter.

“I can see why you said to get one while he was gone.” Marvin chuckled, putting some syrup on his pancake, and skipping on the butter.

“I did say my brain cells work sometimes.” Jackie took one of the other knives and put some butter on his own pancakes.

“And there is a reason we make as much food as we do. Some of us are bottomless pits.” Henrik entered the room and sat at the table, pointing his thumbs at Jackie and Anti. Robbie, who was a thirteen-year-old this week, followed Henrik. His arms were crossed, shoulders slumped, and he looked irritated by the world. He didn’t look at anyone and took a seat next to Henrik, grabbing a chocolate pancake and eating it dry and with his hands.

“Being a hero takes a lot of energy. Always gotta make sure there’s plenty of fuel.” Jackie said.

“And so does being a…well me.” Anti giggled, took the syrup, and drowned his pancakes in it.

“Good news, we’ll be able to eat in peace,” Chase said, being the final Septiceye to sit at the table. “Bad news, they want to come over the moment we’re done.”

“Well, that gives away which ones are coming.” JJ chuckled.

“Anti. You’re going to behave, right? I know how you and him…get to be.” Chase said.

“I always behave,” Anti said through a mouthful of food.

“We could tie him up and lock him in his room,” Marvin suggested.

“Kinky~”

“Oh my, God!” Robbie exclaimed. “Could you like not at the table!? That’s so gross!”

“You are correct, Robert, but you do not need to yell,” Henrik said.

“But he’s being gross!” Robbie continued yelling with his protest. “I’m finishing my breakfast in my room! I can’t with him!” He got up and stormed off, ignoring Henrik’s call for him to come back.

“I could not imagine having to relive puberty,” Marvin said.

“At least he changes ages again tomorrow. I don’t think he likes being that age either.” Chase started preparing himself some pancakes.

“I like child Robbie the best, a lot easier to have fun with-ow!” Anti yelped after Henrik smacked the back of his head.

“There is no favorite age with him. He is Robert regardless.” Henrik scolded.

“So, remind me again how you’re not his dad-ow!”

#magicians dont need superheros #marvelsepticeye #veggie writes #robbie is a moody teen XD

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tiajk · 2 years

Text

Maze runner x reader

Thomas x fem! reader x newt x Minho

I will be making a male Version and gender neutral version of this I want people of other genders to enjoy this alswell

a/n: in this i made everyone bi sexual and your all in poly relationship they all don’t just love y/n and still consider each other as friends they all love each other in a intimate way

Our love has no bounds

Warnings: fluff, angst, crack, polyamorous, death, crack, jealousy, janson (ew)

so basically your all in the maze your the maze you don't remember anything it’s weird and you hate it (i mean who would like it)

Your one of the ones that come up in the beginning like for instance it’s only like 5 of you there that five being you newt Alby Winston and gally then the new greenie comes up it’s Minho since Alby was busy at the moment you gave him the tour the kid was barely taller than you (In this part your 5’2 but u can say you grow taller as the years because I’m making it 4 years instead of 3 that they were in the maze) and he was quiet , shy even but all that went away when you smiled at him and he smiled back “damn he has a cute eye smile” (EYE SMILES ARE MY WEAKNESSES ISTG)

You took him took kitchen at the moment you were all the cooks until someone came up and was the best cook

You ended the tour off by saying “all right greenie this is the last part of the tour if u need anything let me newt or Alby know okay?” “Mi…” you we’re confused he said something but u didn’t hear it “what” “my name it’s Minho” you smirked and out your hand out to him “well Minho nice to meet you”

So after that you and minho got closer along with newt tagging along and getting closer

As more and more greenies came up they realized one thing that they love you and they love each other

But you didn't want to admit it you just couldn’t having a crush on 2 boys was bad and you thought you were selfish because of it with you being a runner it was upsetting and you just wanted to focus on getting out of there

Okay i’m done building this character development

When thomas came you newt and minho were already in a relationship (like in my last maze runner idea thomas was there for 3 months instead of 3 days)

He was staring at newt hard asf like you all did to be honest look at him

Thomas had taken a liking to all of you when you ben and minho and run in the maze when he tried to go in he was staring at you and minho hardddd like when i say hard i mean hard and i'm not gonna lie you guys were too

Okay onto the relationship

cuddles IMMACULATE they’re all so warm

But everyone in the glade is accepting asf like were all family here

Sometimes yall be in the map room doing things…..

Chuck being your number #1 supporter

When thomas become a runner you and minho pranked him as a joke and he was mad but you guys made it up to him by cuddling him and giving him attention

There's a joke around the glade that newts the little housewife and it's funny as hell

Stargazing together like i could imagine one of you were having a bad day and they boys and you plans to go stargazing and its amazing

Newt kissing you minho and thomas goodbye as you go into the maze for the day

Winston being your best friend along with gally,ben,ably and chuck

You two gossiping him about your relationships (i lowkey cannon ben x winston dont judge me they deserve more love)

When chuck died you sobbed out loudly he was like a brother to you no one or anything could replace that from you that piece of your heart was gone and you could never forgot it

When you guys break out of the maze all of you being protective asf towards each other

While going into the wicked facility you guys holding each others hand and giving each other looks as a way of staying “be careful and stay safe”

So while they didn’t take you with teresa they didn’t really want to for some reason you were thankful and it made you happy you could be with your boys and your friends finally being safe or what you thought was safe

Even after you guys escaped you were all still holding on to each other scared you were going to lose each other and you couldn’t have that not when you lost so many already

#maze runner x reader #maze runner #thominewt #tiajk

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realsfriend · 2 months

Text

Unintelligible rant no. 4

Yesterday I talked to my sister for the first time in many weeks. We’d had a bad fight. But I found myself getting triggered at the end of our call, and I kept it together. We said goodbye and hung up, and I called my mother, who told me I was in an episode and hung up on me, which sent me deeper into the episode. But I am still triggered. I look at what I’ve just written in my journal and I realize how hateful it is, the way I talk to and about myself. And it’s jarring, because I haven’t been that vicious in a while. It’s the worst with my sister. I was thinking about my sobriety, and wondering how, whenever she ends up getting married, I’m going to stay sober at her wedding. Everyone she meets wants her. She said she was going to stay out of relationships for a year while she got sober too, and she couldn’t even do that, because everyone wants her, and it makes her feel so good that everyone wants her. I haven’t had sex in a year and a half. I haven’t kissed anyone in a year…because no one wants me. And everyone says that I shouldn’t compare myself to her, or to anyone, because we’re different people with our own journeys, but to me that sounds like bullshit. It just doesn’t compute with me, how I can be fine with my existence, such that it is, when hers runs parallel, so tauntingly utopian. She lives in a world that doesn’t exist, can never exist for me; one where around every corner is a romantic prospect, so poised to bear so much emotional fruit. Where it’s so easy, SO easy, to access the feeling of being held in other arms, of being wanted, desired, pursued. All I have to savor is my own distaste for myself, and the hope for something else rising, only to rot away. That clock never stops ticking. I had a crush recently, and it honestly drove me to madness, as they always do, but I always knew, I always KNEW that it was bound to sour. I waited for that in paralysis. Sure enough, it came. You’d think that at some point, I’d stop hoping already, and start extinguishing the spark of it immediately. In my imagination I get to feel it all. All those specific little experiences, like resting your head on someone’s chest and hearing their heartbeat and feeling grateful that it’s something you get to witness. Or a first kiss. Or memorizing the geography of a hand. Imagining something is not the same as having it. I try to pretend that it is.

#actually bpd #actuallybpd #borderline #bpd #borderline personality disorder #bpd thoughts #bpd vent

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gojonanami · 5 months

Note

truly it’s ridiculous— I’ve never gotten hate before expressing liking a same sex ship — it’s saddening to think how much hate others may get just from shipping them more forthrightly on their blogs. i really see no point in sending hate to anyone — it won’t change anything except send bad energy into the world.

honestly, to me, it seems as though... once you get "big," you're bound to get hate as horrible as it sounds :(

(i am NOT excusing this behaviour by ANY MEANS – it's just my observation from lingering on tumblr for a long while...)

people seem to feel very strongly about this whether they're aggressively pro "satoru-and-suguru-are-soulmates-beyond-death-and-their-bond-transcends-all-sorts-of-boundaries-and-they-were-born-to-shoujo-but-were-forced-to-shounen" or "satoru-and-suguru-are-the-bestest-of-friends,-not-lovers,-but-their-bond-is-still-super-special-even-if-not-romantic-and-it-not-being-romantic-doesn't-mean-that-it's-not-special-and-their-close-friendship-puts-into-question-the-suggestion-that-"romantic"-love-is-somehow-"higher"-than-friendship-and-questions-how-we-represent-close-friendships-in-media".

i don't believe that either interpretation is "right," but a lot of people do, and those who tend to be on extreme end of either end of the spectrum of opinions/interpretations tend to, in my experience, be more driven to be vocal about it and even send hate.

in my experience, i've seen both ends do it. i've seen "x reader" creators being disparaged for writing "x reader" fics as it doesn't fit with their pre-assumed expectations of that character's love life.

and i've seen ships be disparaged to as it's not "canon," and/or gay. or because they prefer other ships (e.g. satoru x suguru over nanami x satoru, or maki x nobara over maki x yuta, etc.)

i'm so sorry you experienced 'hate mail' though as that's really very awful. and it's horrible that your followers received it, too.

i hope that receiving 'hate mail' won't deter you from writing on this website as your stories are truly wonderful. (but, if at some point you feel like it does, i'll understand.)

oh yeah for sure — it truly doesn’t bother me much, because I have a thick skin, so I find it mostly ridiculous It makes me mad when these people send hate to my followers because it’s so insane to me to go that far

I really can see the relationship for satosugu either way and I don’t really see the problem in viewing it either way. I saw them as best friends for a long time, and eventually I started to see them in a romantic sense. I don’t understand why send people hate for something so inconsequential— who cares what other people ship? If you don’t wanna see it, just block them — simple as that.

I’m fine babe 💕🥹 I appreciate your concern — it’s truly not that big of a deal. I see hate and I only respond when I see it’s necessary— otherwise I just block and put it out of my mind. It’s very easy when I have such lovely followers like you and everyone else 💕🥹

#sab [asks]#sab [anons]

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latibvles · 1 year

Text

SAD, BEAUTIFUL, TRAGIC.

beautiful, tragic. // unravelled.

everyone says this can't go on, but it does.

masterlist | gallery | taglist

TAGLIST: @liebgotts-lovergirl , @softguarnere , @brassknucklespeirs , @monalisastwin , @mads-weasley , @eugene-emt-roe

SUMMARY: up and up — until Daisy gasps for air.

WARNINGS: same as the previous chapter.

Having space and not knowing how to fill it is a little like having time and not knowing what to do with it.

Ginny gives her that — space — to think. Whenever Daisy tries to apologize, she just tells her not to. She still can’t look Ron in the eye, much less speak to him. He doesn’t force himself in, either. She knows she’ll have to talk to him, especially if she’s discharged, but approaching it is… almost nauseating.

There’s a few people she’d have to talk to — a few people allotting her space. She knows Ginny, knows that she wouldn’t gossip behind her back, not about something like this. So Rita’s smaller smiles, Eugene’s very brief nods of acknowledgment, and Joe’s lack of affectionate pestering are her own doing. Her own inability to compose herself like she should

Somehow, Daisy’s managed to carve out a space for herself to be alone and she doesn’t even know what to do with it.

It’s strange to be alone but not… disliked at all. She’s not being shunned and she knows it, but having people angry at her has always felt easier in the grand scheme of things. She probably shouldn’t wish for that chance to reaffirm the worst thoughts about herself, but no one ever said breaking a habit was ever easy.

Ginny told her to think about it, she doesn’t know what discharging would even mean.

She’s never quit at anything. Not even if it was a sport she hated, or a book going downhill. She always… finished things. But was leaving like quitting? Not for Buck and Patty — she imagines they didn’t get much say in the matter. Daisy wouldn’t be the first person sent home over a death in the family. She wonders if she’d even be given this option if anyone but Ron had seen her react — watched the way she fell to her knees, unable to do much of anything.

She tries to imagine it — getting off a train alone, the people that matter still here. Only being bound to them by letters, having to bury James without Ron beside her. A quiet life waiting for people to come home, her mother with her again.

Though it’s a familiar sight, just like the day before she left herself, the image doesn’t bring Daisy as much comfort as she thought it would.

“Who’s that letter from, anyway?” Across the tent, Jane is sprawled out, legs outstretched and a tattered copy of A Tree Grows In Brooklyn laying in front of her — the spine cracked so it’d lie flat. Her brow is arched. “You just… I dunno — you’ve been in a pretty bad mood. Is it one of those Dear John letters? Because if it is then I say screw him and—”

“No, no it’s… not that.” Daisy shakes her head. Jane lets out a small sigh that sounds almost relieved.

“Alright, good, I’m not too good with breakups,” She professes. They lapse into silence again, broken only by the occasional sound of the crinkling pages of Jane’s book, when she speaks again. For a moment, she thinks the conversation died out. “So what was in it? If you don’t mind me asking.” Daisy reverts her attention back to Jane from the spot on the ceiling she was fixed on.

“What’s got you so curious?” Jane shrugs.

“I’ve read this one three times. Novelty’s lost after a while. Cat’s got my copy of Tarzan of the Apes,” Jane shrugs, looking Daisy up and down. Daisy tries not to squirm under the sharpness of her stare — piercing gray eyes that seem to see right through her in a way she isn’t especially used to. People like Ron and Ginny know her well, accustomed to her language and can draw conclusions based on that. Jane is just… observant. She weighs the pros and cons of speaking freely — as she’s been weighing everything, lately. “You don’t have to say anything. M’just curious.” she offers.

“It’s fine,” Daisy reassures, turning to face her entirely but not sitting straight up. She lets out a hefty sigh. “I haven’t read it yet, to be completely honest.” Jane raises a brow, her lip quirking into a smile. She laughs, small and breathy, sitting up fully and letting the book fall off the cot.

“No shit?” All Daisy does is nod. She chuckles again, before rubbing at her own mouth. “Sorry I don’t- it’s not at you, okay? I guess I’m just trying to make sense of it.” Daisy shrugs simply, sitting up and picking at the blanket beneath her and pressing her lips together.

“Have you ever gotten a letter and just know it’s bad before you read it? Or a report card?” This time it’s Jane’s turn to shrug.

“I try not to work myself up over things I don’t know are certain,” she eyes Daisy’s letter. “Like unless a teacher told me there was an F on the report card, there was always a chance for it to be a C. Even if it turns out to be an F at least I didn’t waste more energy than I needed thinking about it,” Daisy remains silent, and Jane heaves as she lets herself fall back onto the cot, returning to her book.

“Oddly optimistic of you.” Daisy notes. Jane shrugs.

“Someone’s gotta do it, since you’ve been slacking off,” There’s a playful lilt to the way she says it, reaching to grab the book and then turning over on her other side. “If you ever get around to reading it let me know. I need to say I told you so.”

Daisy doesn’t know what to say to that, so she says nothing.

Everyday felt the same since she got the letter. Gray overcast, busy bodies, her eyes rarely ever lifting from the floor. For ten days straight, it’s been chilly.

Today the clouds break a bit in the morning, and it’s a little warmer, too.

Some things remained — while they don’t smother her, Catherine still waves Daisy down to sit with them at their table, and she has, even if she hasn’t spoken much. Today, she doesn’t. She finds a spot for herself, in a corner, not touching the bowl of what is, presumably, oatmeal in front of her.

She tore the typewriter-page from the front when she woke up.

Daisy stares at her mother’s handwriting, her mouth feels dry, her palms sweaty. The food never looked appetizing, but at least it would’ve been stomacheable if not for the knot forming in the pit of her stomach, leaving her uneasy.

It’s not like she’s done something wrong, and yet she feels like she has. In the grand scheme of things, she has done a few things wrong, but nothing relating to her mother. And yet the idea of perceiving her mother's grief almost paralyzes her, keeping her underwater like a proper ball and chain.

Summoning the courage to read it feels like biting a bullet. Daisy does it anyway.

—

My darling girl,

If you’re reading this, then you’ve received the letter we received from James’ commanding Officer. I surely hope that the censor left it relatively untouched. This wasn’t something we wished to keep from yoi, for you to learn the hard way on your way home. We haven’t heard from you in quite some time, and needless to say I spend every day worrying for you, hoping and praying that you’re safe, that you’re alive. I hope upon receiving this, you’ll write back.

Your father and I were apprehensive on letting you join the military as you’re well-aware. If there was a good and moral way to get your brother out of it, we would’ve done it. I suppose that makes us quite selfish, wanting to keep our children home rather than allow them to bear the weight of this “great undertaking.” To want to keep you when so many parents were willing to send their children away.

I am selfish. I am your mother. There is nothing more I yearn for than to have you here, at home. But I know your brother and I think he would hate it if I brought you home now.

I think of all the other mothers, who have lost their sons. I think of how I’m one of them now. I think about the articles in the newspaper about the medics, the women like you who were put under the great stress of a new duty. I think about all the lives you’ve saved in your time there. I think about all the lives that will surely be lost if you aren’t there to save them.

I won’t beg you to come home. What I will ask is that you continue what you’re doing, because I don’t believe there’s anything more important than the job you’ve been given. When the war is over, when you are home, we will grieve and mourn together. But until that day comes, you have a job to do.

We are so immensely proud of all you’ve become. We cannot wait to see you at the end of this.

All our love, Mom and Dad

—

There’s a lump in her throat. For the first time in days, she maintains her composure, which is unexpected.

But until that day comes, you have a job to do.

She recognizes her father’s handwriting on the word ‘Dad’ and it makes her nauseous. Her hands are still trembling. They’re right, she knows they’re right, but reading it from her mother’s own hand almost feels… relieving, in some way. But there’s still weight wrapped around her ankles and she still feels splintered from the inside out, like some kind of shattered reflection of herself.

But shattered or not, if she can still pull herself out of bed in the morning (even if it’s a mission to do it), then she still has a job she swore to do, and by God was she going to do it.

Daisy moves, folding the letter and sticking it in her pocket, breakfast virtually untouched and feet moving without necessarily paying much thought to her own movements — but she knows the path well enough anyway.

Up and up, she goes over it a million times, ‘till you get some air.

Daisy climbs the steps of the building, paying little mind to the shoulders of those brushing past her, brief nods of acknowledgement to those she recognizes. She finds the door, in a quiet hallway, and raps her knuckles on the door with a sense of certainty she can’t place the origin of.

“Come in.” The greeting is muffled, but she hears it nonetheless. She opens the door.

Ron’s back is to her, looking through the curtains and out onto the field. Even from her spot across the room she can make out the men running drills with their bayonets and rifles. Sunlight streams in from the drawn curtains, catching some of the dust in the light. Nothing in here especially screams that it’s his office — a night in his tent has proven that he lives his life out of his footlocker instead. She says nothing, walking forward.

“Winters if you need that—” She wraps her arms around him, letting her cheek press into his back. He’s warm to the touch. She feels his hands, rough, curling around her own, which are currently latched around him. For a second, she thinks he might pry her off, but he doesn’t. He just holds one of her hands, saying nothing for a few terribly long seconds. And she waits for him to reject it, to pry her off of him.

“Is this a goodbye?” His voice is low, even, but on the intake of breath he trembles. She can feel it. Daisy hugs him tighter.

“It’s an apology,” she murmurs into his back. “I don’t- I don’t know what I’m doing here and I just thought—”

“Christ, Dais I don’t want an apology,” He doesn’t pry her off, but he does turn to face her, looking down at her. “I’m not… I’m not mad at you. I just…” He reaches up, pinching the bridge of his nose and taking a measured breath. “I wanted to help you but I’ve got no goddamn clue what I’m doing here.” She looks up at him, at the grimace on his face, the twist of his mouth.

“I didn’t make it easy.” She points out.

“There’s a war on. They’re rationing ‘easy’.” He refutes. She sniffles, and her lip wobbles. Every now and again he eyes the door before looking back at her. She takes a shaky breath.

“I almost left,” she admits. Daisy watches him swallow hard. “But… it didn’t feel right I just- I don’t know how I’m supposed to deal with any of it. Or reel it in like I’m supposed to and I don’t…” She unwraps her arms from around him to rub at her own face. Daisy feels the lump in her throat almost intensify. She looks up at him, hazel eyes boring into her but still holding a certain softness there. “What am I supposed to do with this?”

She watches as he sighs, leaning up against his desk and rubbing a hand over his mouth for a moment. Ron looks down, and she watches as he stares off for a moment.

“Guess that’s something we’ll have to figure out,” He offers, rather than something meant to be overzealous or especially uplifting. Ron reaches forward to tug her towards him, so she’s slotted between his legs. “And we’ll figure it out.” One hand drifts up, again, caressing her cheek and wiping a tear that’s managed to slip past despite her best efforts to retain her composure.

Daisy leans forward to rest her forehead against his, bumping their noses in the process. He doesn’t mind.

“I don’t know what I’m gonna do at home,” she whispers. It feels like a confession. “They aren’t going to hold a funeral until the war’s over and I’m home but… my dad—”

“Let’s win the war first.” Ron interjects. “Then we can worry about going home.” He gives her hip a squeeze with the other hand. Daisy sniffles, then swallows the ache, letting herself be grounded in the warmth of him, the roughness of his palms, the way he still manages to be gentle in handling her.

“Okay.”

#fic // sad beautiful tragic #ronald speirs x oc #ronald speirs x ofc #band of brothers oc #band of brothers fic #hbo war fic #hbo war oc #hbo war ofc

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ineffible-chaos · 1 year

Text

The Christmas Kids

Summery:

It's been four years since Craig Tucker stepped into South Park. After a nasty, one-sided breakup at sixteen with his long-term boyfriend, Tweek Tweak, Craig has been on a downward spiral with seemingly no end. With a new assignment from his therapist, Stripe #10 and enough medication to kill a small village, Craig is returning to the source of all his problems. Things have changed in South Park and some people don't know how to leave well enough alone. With new friends, old friends, and something in between, Craig just wants to disappear out of the lives of everyone

Parings: Craig/Tweek, Kyle/Stan, Kenny/Butters/Marj

“I dream of you in every waking and sleeping moment and its the sweetest and cruelest form of torture.”

Day one.

My name is Craig Tucker.

I’m twenty-two years old.

My therapist is making me do this assignment where I have to make an entry for a whole year. Three hundred and sixty-five entries. He told me that it was okay to skip a day or two if I forgot or didn't have the energy to write anything down. I don't mind this if i'm being honest, it's better than wallowing in my own self pity like I have been the last few years.

I think it would be rude to not introduce myself to you, even if you are just a leather bound book filled with empty space.

So.

My name is Craig Tucker and I'm depressed.

I was first diagnosed when I was sixteen when my boyfriend of six years broke up with me. Then a lot of stuff happened and I got the free upgrade of having MDD- major depressive disorder, a few years later. I’m gay, I’ve known since I was fourteen. You’re probably wondering, “Craig, how did you have a boyfriend for six years if you didn’t know you were gay until years after you started dating him?”

That, my friend, is the question, isn't it? I grew up in South Park, this fucked up little town in Colorado. The adults were insane, there was one fat kid who was a menace to society (his friends were too, I still hate them for Puru) and then there was Tweek.

Tweek Tweak was this neurotic little blond kid whose parents ran the only coffee shop in all of South Park.

We even fought once because of the fat kid I mentioned earlier. We’d played superheroes together (I was Super Craig and I beat the shit out of other kids, I loved it) and before we “dated”, we were doing some medieval shit with this new kid who farted. Like, a lot. It was a weird time.

Then the Asian girls started making yaoi fanart of us and the whole town had decided that we were gay, dating and that was that. We “broke up” shortly after and Tweek had decided to make me sound like a cheating bastard with some dude named Michael (srsly what the fuck, im still mad about that).

But I guess we just sort of stayed together after that. We fake dated for the town but we actually became really good friends and eventually the line between friends and being something more just… blurred. I was the only one who could calm him down and he was the only one I could stand touching me.

That's sort of my thing. My family never believed in coddling their kids and it was rare to be touched in a way that wasn't violent (I got into fights a lot) or those posed two second family pictures. I even remember flinching away from his touch in the beginning because it was so foreign.

I haven't let anyone else touch me since.

The thought makes my skin crawl, like having any one else’s hands on me but his made me want to throw up.

Sorry, I'm rambling aren't i? It's been a while since i've talked to anyone that wasn't the therapist.

I'm gonna be honest, book. I’m not okay.

I’ve been in love with my ex for nearly ten years and I don't know how to get over him. No one else clicks and a part of me is so, so tired of getting drunk and high to feel something other than misery and self pity that I just want everything to end. That sounds bad doesn't it? Who feels that way over some guy?

Everything feels heightened now because I'm going home to South Park for the first time in four years and I'm scared out of my mind. I was a complete mess that last year and a half of high school after Tweek broke up with me and I spent most of that time high, drunk or both on the first set of meds that made me feel numb enough that I could barely think and when i could, i was so fucking miserable i wanted to die.

If I'm being honest, I don't even know how I graduated. Despite what everyone thought about Kyle Broflovsky and Wendy Testaburger being the smartest in our grade, I had been on track to be valedictorian, which I hid from everyone as best I could. Sure, I had sucked at school when I was younger but the teachers had been able to tweak (ha, jokes) how I was taught and boom, smart as hell.

Honestly, I think my teachers felt bad for me and just passed the depressed gay kid who was dumped by his long term boyfriend for a fucking girl.

Ugh.

Book, this entry is making me want to jump so I’m gonna end it here. So see you for entry two, maybe I won’t be so miserable the next time we talk.

-Craig.

He flipped the book closed and flexed his fingers, which had cramped from the amount of writing he'd done. A part of him had almost felt bad for trauma dumping through the pages and immediately wanted to punch himself in the face because how fucking stupid is that? It's a book.

He hadn’t been lying as he wrote and he’d even felt like the slightest bit of weight had eased off of his shoulders for a moment. He looked around his barren dorm room and wished he could make time stop moving; graduation had come and gone and now he was heading back home to South Park for the first time in years. Apartments were too expensive in the city and he was completely wiped out from paying tuition.

So home it was. Tricia was about to be in her senior year of high school and he’d felt guilty for missing so many events the last few years. His mom was excited he was coming home and he had no doubt that every single miserable person in town knew the Gay Kid was coming back home.

Being out of the cold shadow of the mountains had done him good, his voice had finally let go of the lispy rasp he’d had for so long and he'd let his hair grow out so it stuck out from under his hat.

He looked towards the desk in his room and stood from his perch on the bed. Stripe #10 had been changed to his carrying case and he’d protested it, his angry weeks expressing just how he felt being in his tiny enclosure.

“Dude, chill. You’ll be in there for only a little longer and I’ll give you treats later.”

Stripe let out a huff in response.

“Don’t sass me young man, it's hard being a single mother dealing with your tantrums.”

Damn kids.

He shrugged his bag on and lifted the cage, leaving behind the dorm he’d occupied for so long. He left the key by the RA office and put Stripe in the front seat of his car, buckling him in and throwing the bag into the back seat.

“Don’t expect to see your deadbeat dad anytime soon bud, just because we’re going home doesn’t mean you get to see him.” He said to Stripe, who didn’t respond.

Teenagers are so ungrateful nowadays, he thought to himself and started the long journey to South Park.

this is also posted on A03

<a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/

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sixpossumsinatrenchcoat · 1 year

Text

game over

An Omori timeskip in the wake of the worst end. Part 3 of 4.

Kel finds Sunny by a frozen lake, fishing through a hole in the ice. For a second, it looks like there’s someone standing beside him, or—maybe it’s just his shadow? But when Kel bounds closer, the shadow dissipates. A trick of the light, maybe. Or just more weird dream stuff.

“Hey bud! Catch anything good?”

Sunny glances back at him, and then turns coldly away. “I’m not talking to you.”

“What!! Why?? What’d I do??”

“No. Not like that.”

Oh. Good. Kel flops down in the snow and waits for Sunny to explain.

…He doesn’t.

Oh, yeah. Sunny isn’t really the ‘explaining’ type. Kel clears his throat. “So… What is it like?”

Sunny startles. “Oh. It’s just, you shouldn’t talk to me. You should be talking to Hero.”

“Huh?”

“Or Aubrey.”

“Huh????”

Sunny shoots a glare over his shoulder. “Be more specific.”

Right. Sunny is also not the ‘fill in the blanks in your open-ended question’ type. He’s a pretty literal guy, that Sunny. “Sorry, sorry. I guess I just mean… uh… Hero’s pretty busy, you know? And I don’t even know how I’d find Aubrey.”

“She lives two blocks away?”

“Not anymore, dude.”

Sunny looks surprised, then dismayed. He always hated when things changed.

“Sorry,” Kel says, shrugging. “But it’s all good. They’re sorta not that fun to talk to right now, anyway.”

“Less fun than me?”

“Uh, yeah! Are you kidding? Talking with you is the best!!”

“Was,” Sunny corrects him. He flicks the line expertly, a deft, practiced motion. Which is weird, ‘cause Kel is pretty sure that Sunny has never actually caught a fish.

“Yeah, yeah. You know what I mean, though. Why would I talk to them instead of you?”

Sunny gives him a sharp look. “I can’t tell if you’re playing dumb.”

“Wh– Hey!! I’ll have you know that I am exactly as dumb as I look!!”

Sunny turns away just a beat too late to hide his smile. “Okay. You should talk to them because they’re your friends—”

“You’re my friend!!!”

“—and they’re alive. So. That’s something you have in common.”

“...Ah.” It did sorta seem like that’s where this was going, yeah. “But… I don’t want to?”

“I don’t care.”

“Pff!” Kel sputters. “Ouch, dude, damn! Were you always this brutal?”

“Yes.” He pauses. “Wait. Maybe not last time. But still yes. I just forgot how to do it out loud.”

“Pfffww— Sunny!!! When you finally came out… Dude. Were you silently roasting me that whole time???”

“Of course not,” Sunny huffs. “You’re my friend. And anyway, I was—” He hesitates. “I. Had a lot on my mind.”

…Huh. For the most honest guy Kel’s ever met, Sunny’s sure acting like someone who’s keeping secrets. “Huh,” Kel says, out loud this time. “There’s something you’re not saying.”

Sunny looks surprised. “Yes.”

“But if I ask, you’re just gonna say you can’t tell me. ‘Cause it’s ‘too late,’ or whatever?”

“...Yes.”

“Okay!”

Sunny raises an eyebrow. “Okay?”

“Sure! There’s plenty of stuff I don’t wanna talk about. It’s all good, dude!”

Kel flops back in the snow, belly-up under a violet sky. The frost feels crisp and crunchy on his skin, but without the sting of cold. Like laying in a field of salt.

“I guess that's why we always got each other, huh?” he muses. “‘Cause everyone else is, like… Ugh. Sometimes it feels like they want to have a bad time. But it's like— Why would you wanna feel bad when you could just... look at something else?"

Sunny frowns.

Kel flicks some snow at him. “What?”

“Just thinking.”

“Yeah, I figured. You wanna share with the class?”

Sunny shoots him a dry look. “Just. Maybe that’s why everyone got so messed up, after. Because… Um.” His frown deepens. Translating the looping, swirling snarl of his genius into normal human words was never Sunny’s strong suit. “It’s like. Homeostasis?”

“Uh... huh?”

Sunny looks frustrated. He always did, when someone took too long to understand all the complicated math behind his weird analogies. “Like. Checks and balances. You made us have fun, and Basil made us be nice, and Hero made us be smart, and Aubrey made us be honest. And Mari made us fit together.”

“And you made us be cool and smart and brave!! And go on adventures! And play pretend and stuff!!!”

Sunny flaps a hand impatiently. “Sure. So we could all just do what we wanted, and it was fine. But then we split up, and it was. Everyone just—kept doing what they did. But. Without anyone to stop them.”

“Huh,” Kel says thoughtfully. It does make a sort of sense. And it explains why everyone felt so unfamiliar, after. Because he'd only ever known them when they were together. “That’s pretty smart, Sunny.”

“Yes.”

“Pfff. So, what... You think I should talk to Aubrey because she isn’t fun?”

Sunny hits him with another flat glare. “No. You should talk to Aubrey because you’re stuck. And probably she is too. But you can still get unstuck. Just… probably not all alone.”

“Uuugghhghhh… I’ll think about it, okay? But if she beats me to death with a nail bat, that’s on you.”

“I’m not worried,” Sunny says smugly. Then a shadow flashes over his face, and his eyes narrow. “Oh. Sorry. It’s time.”

“Huh??” Kel jolts to attention as Sunny seizes him by the shoulders. “S-Sunny?? Time for—??”

“WAKE UP.”

###

Honestly? Aubrey’s getting pretty tired of all the cryptic bullshit.

The sweet, adoring best friend crashing in her apartment? It’s fine. It turns her stomach and makes her want to swallow glass, and all of that is fucking fine. But the faceless, inexplicably sinister stranger haunting her dreams? Who is that even supposed to be? It’s obviously not fucking Basil.

“Because you never really knew me,” the shadow whispers. “No one did.”

“Man, what am I even supposed to do with that?”

“Tsss-sss-ssh,” the shadow cackles. “You’re a riot, do you know that?”

“Literally what do you want from me?” Aubrey demands. “I'm just trying to get through the day. I'm not hurting anyone. I already know I'm fuckin' trash, so you’re kinda preaching to the choir here. So what is it? You want me to die? Is that it?”

“Hmmmm,” the shadow hums. It sits back on its heels, a movement that draws attention to its distinctly inhuman legs: more like a rabbit’s haunches than a person’s. “You’re awfully direct. If Sunny had been so forthright, maybe all this could have been avoided.”

“Wow! Cool! It’s almost like that’s completely fucking meaningless!”

Another crackling hiss of laughter. “Oh, alright. I suppose I’m just… checking in on an old friend.”

“And that’s supposed to be me.”

It gestures at her, a clicking jerk of one long-fingered hand. “Who else?”

“Cool,” Aubrey snarls. She knows, she fucking knows that she’s a violent piece of shit, but that doesn’t mean she wants to hear about it every. Single. Night. “No, that’s great. That’s really helpful.”

“Well,” the shadow snickers. “If hss-s-speaking with me is really so unpleasant, have you tried talking to… oh, I don’t know… literally anyone else?”

“So that’s what this is about.”

“Whatever do you mean?” it asks innocently.

“You fucking know.” Opening up. Talking to people. “Vulnerability and shit.”

“Hss–s-s-sss,” the shadow cackles. “You always did have a way with words.”

“So that’s your game? You think I’m—lonely, or something?” It’s hard to believe that any version of Basil would even give a shit. After what she did, he should want her to be alone for the rest of her life.

But then again, this isn’t really Basil.

“I think you’re afraid.”

“You—what??”

“I think you’re determined to martyr yourself. Because if everything was your fault, then turning your back is a mercy. But you’re wrong. It isn’t mercy. It’s cruelty. The same cruelty that killed me.”

That rocks her back on her heels. “I— You said I didn’t—”

“I said you weren’t seeing the whole picture. I never said your hands were clean. But you already knew that, didn’t you?” Its head tilts almost fondly. “My old friend.”

Abruptly, the shadow’s goatlike ears flick up. It twists its shaggy head like it’s listening for something she can’t hear.

“Ah. I’m afraid we’re out of time.”

She scoffs. “You got somewhere to be? No one’s stopping you. Feel free to fuck off at your soonest convenience.”

For a second, the shadow’s mirrored eyes look almost wistful. “That would be nice, wouldn’t it? But—no. This-ss is the last place I’ll ever be. You, on the other hand… There’s a whole world out there. Why not go and s-see?”

“Uhh, maybe ‘cause it’s the middle of the night? I have work in the morning.”

“Yess, yes. A shame, that. Still. A little sleep deprivation never hurt anyone.”

She snorts. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure it h—”

Suddenly the shadow is towering over her, larger than life. It’s not skimming along the walls anymore. It's a pillar of shuddering dark, like smoke made solid. It tosses its head and stamps its goatlike legs, driving one cloven hoof deep into the ground beside her head. “WAKE UP.”

###

Aubrey jolts awake. Her heart is racing so fast, it feels like it’s trying to climb out her mouth. The room is all long twisted shadows, hunched backs and splintered bone and knees broken and bent back. She fumbles for the lamp, but ends up with a fistful of shattered glass.

Right. There is no lamp. It’s just another broken thing.

She tries to slow her breath but it’s so dark. It’s so dark. There’s no light in the room and the shadows won’t stop moving. She can feel something warm and slick on her palm. Blood. There’s blood on her hands. When is there not?

Calm down, she tries to tell herself. You’re dreaming. It’s just another nightmare. But—no. She can feel the sting of shattered glass between her fingers. She’s awake. This is real. Her life is the nightmare.

Aubrey jerks out of bed. Hisses a curse as she steps on another shard of the stupid fucking broken fucking bulb. She hates this apartment. She thought getting out of her mom's disgusting trailer would make her less angry, but this place is almost worse. It’s another trash heap for trash people. A graveyard for the almost-dead. Just somewhere to keep all her mistakes.

She can’t be here. She can’t spend another second in this miserable fucking room, all alone in the squirming dark. She has to—go. Somewhere. To buy a new lamp or a RedBull or a fucking noose. It doesn’t matter. Who fucking cares? Anywhere would be better than here.

###

Aubrey’s complex is on the grimy side of the tracks, far from the bright lawns and clean fences where she grew up.

She’d wanted to go even further. Far enough to feel sure that none of her old friends would ever find her. But it took her months to find a gas station shady enough to hire a kid with no high school diploma, no references, and a “trust me” approach to federal identification.

It’s not like she could afford rent in the city, anyway. Where else would she even go?

It’s three-something in the morning: late enough that the night owls are hunkered down at home, but too early for even the earliest of early birds. The streets are deathly still. If not for the crackle and hum of the streetlamps, she might be standing in a photograph.

The only place that’s open at this hour is a greasy 7-Eleven near the other edge of town. It’s a long walk. But Aubrey’s so tired she’s seeing double. If she tried to bike it, she’s pretty sure she’d wind up wrapped around the smoking wreckage of someone’s car. And she’s killed enough people for one lifetime, thanks.

Exhaustion makes her shadow stutter and stretch like claymation. She can’t bring herself to look at it. She can’t shake the feeling that it might look back.

…Whatever. Still better than spending another second of her life in that fucking apartment.

###

24-hour convenience stores have always felt sort of outside of time. Like a pocket dimension where nothing ever changes. Row upon refrigerated row of Pepsi Blue and Mountain Dew: Code Red above the Diet Sprite and Cherry Coke. Stale cookies in plastic casing from brands that no one’s ever heard of. Expired corn chips that were last manufactured for sale in 1996. Pocket knives with novelty handles carved to look like bears or badgers or bikini babes with wooden water-balloon tits. Personalized keychains emblazoned with your name, as long as your name is John, Sam or Jayden.

As soon as she’s under those brutal fluorescent lights, Aubrey feels herself relax. There’s something comforting about places like this. Places that never change, no matter how much you did.

She nods at the kid working the counter and grabs a few energy drinks, a Flamin’ Hot Cheetos, a pack of watermelon gummies. Then a few more energy drinks. Some insane impulse makes her pick up a Grow-Your-Own-Herbs kit—just a dusty pot of dirt with a packet of dried-up seeds taped to the front—mostly because it’s the kind of thing that would make Basil happy. Then she remembers that Basil is too dead to feel much of anything, and makes herself put it back.

Aubrey pays for the snacks. Shakes her head when the guy asks if she wants a bag, even though it is actually a little too much to carry. Shuffles out into the parking lot.

When she looks up, there’s a figure staring across the parking lot, silhouetted by the streetlights. Shaggy. Spindly. Staring. Her heart leaps. Basil—

—But it’s not. Of course, it’s not. It’s just some guy. Just some alive person who probably won’t ever have to stare at a stranger’s silhouette and wonder if they’re even real, or just another ghost. She ducks her head and moves to shoulder past.

That’s when the figure calls her name.

You can read the rest here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/46429294/chapters/117673759

#omori fanfic #omori timeskip #bad end #worst end #knife end #omori suntan #omori photobomb #omori kelbrey #(the kelbrey is platonic for me but is definitely open to interpretation)#omori stranger #omori spoilers

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