#can y’all tell I’m fucking goin through it

[deathdaydreamm]

Beautiful loser

[hotsingledragon]

one and only

recom miles quaritch x fem!reader

warnings: explicit sexual content, MDNI

miles quaritch can’t help himself, he’s always had an eye for the quiet, nervous beauties; the ones with big innocent eyes that are easy to blush and shy away from everyone’s gaze.

but you can’t hide from him, oh no, you’re just the prettiest little thing he’s ever met with your sweet smile and light, syrupy voice. quaritch will make it his mission to take you and claim you in the best ways, the ways you deserved. there’s no way in hell he’s letting one of those military chumps or science pukes fuck up and taint you. because it has to be him. because he knows how to take care of sweet girls like you.

so on the occasion when quaritch catches some low-life recruits ogling you and whispering like teenagers, he steps in their line of sight, nearly snarling with how hard he’s grimacing at them; a thorough warning to back the fuck off.

and quaritch would start going out of his way, finding time to cross your path to rasp “good afternoon,” in your direction while dropping a wink at you, just to see the way your face flushed and how you tried to suppress a smile.

-miles is a gentleman, inviting you to sit with him for meals in the mess hall, wrapping you in long conversations in the recreation room. when you’re close enough he’s leaning into your space and looking at you with these bright wild eyes that never seem to tear away from you, making your cheeks burn under such a hot gaze.

you can’t help but feel giddy and flustered as this brooding yet handsome man has approached you like you’ve never experienced before.

-the first time you kiss, miles asks politely, waiting for your confirmation before crashing down on you to slot his lips against yours. it starts innocent enough, a slow, warm press of lips until he’s pushing into you and kissing you harder. it steals your breath, miles steals your breath.

“i don’t think ya’ know how much i want ya’, darlin’, feel like i’m goin fuckin’ crazy” he would breathe into your ear, his hand sliding above your knee and squeezing your thigh. “wanna do so many filthy things with ya’.” and he would absolutely thrive when your cheeks flushed even deeper.

-and he loves to embarrass you, loves the way you get all shy when he says something or leaves teasing touches over your skin.

-“you’re so shy, little one”

-“oh you sweet little thing, you’re adorable.”

-and yes miles wants to do filthy things with you, but he also respects your initial boundaries. so y’all start slow; you spend your first few times together in his lap, letting him kiss you fervently. and quaritch is a good fucking kisser okay; he will lick into your mouth, tongue running over your teeth or sucking on your own tongue. he knows just what to do to get your mouth pushing against his own, your body arching into him until you’re asking for more.

-and while he tries his hardest to be patient, miles is handsy with you, always groping at your flesh. even fully clothed, he’ll take handfuls of your chest, will run his thumbs over your nipples until they peak. let’s his fingers tease under the waist of your shorts and press into pliable muscle. miles will grab your bum, pushing your center against the bulge in his pants.

-deffff loves inexperienced blowjobs, loves how sweet you look with your big shiny eyes looking at him, your cheeks stuffed with his cock. loves to talk you through the first few times, telling you what feels good.

-“suck on the tip, yeahhh good fuckin’ girl,”

-“you’re learnin’ so quickly, darlin, such a smart an’ pretty girl,”

-“you’re a natural honey, makin’ me feel so fuckin’ good,”

-eeeeep the first time miles touches you!!! he’d make you sit in the pillows, and he’d sit at your side but he’s quickly covering your body with his own. he kisses you long and filthy until he’s got you whimpering into his mouth and he can smell the slick between your thighs.

he slows to kiss you chastely, only pulling inches away from you to whisper “open them pretty legs for me, baby.” he’d run a hand over your knee and let it smooth over your inner thigh, encouraging you to rest your weight over his hip.

from this position he can see every bit of you from your scrunched brows to your shaking knees. he watches you so intently as your muscles tense or when you gasp quietly, gauging your every reaction to his touch. he’s only rubbing you over your panties, finger pads damp from working over the wet patch that soaks the cotton.

“s’get these outta the way, hm?” he rumbles, only having the patience to hook his finger and push your panties to the side. now two of his thick fingers are on your raw pussy, repeatedly dragging from your hot entrance to your puffy clit.

“that’s a good girl, don’t that feel good?”

-and from the moment you tell him you’re ready to take his cock inside of you, every single one of his nerve endings feels as if they’re sparking like live wire.

so now you’re folded in half, got your knees to your chest and three of his fingers easing into your wet hole. all you can do is whine, your face hot with lust and frustrated tears.

“m-miles, please,” you whimper, giving him those big, watery, desperate eyes and how can he refuse you?

“think you’re ready for my cock, little one?” he grins, still pushing his fingers inside of you just to hear the messy squelch of your slick. and quaritch is so fucking hard as he watches you, his cock heavy and leaking against his thigh. he growls when your hips twitch upwards to take more of his fingers, sweet little sounds falling from your swollen mouth.

“look at you, sweets. tryna fuck my hand,” miles would chuckle. “thought ya’ wanted more than that?” he teases, giving you one last thrust before he drags his fingers out of your tight hole. his long fingers are coated in your arousal and he groans at the sight.

“clean my fingers, baby. suck on ‘em just like you suck on my cock, alright?” and those fingers are tapping your cheek, beckoning your lips to part.

“that’s it,” he whispers, bright eyes lowered and locked on your plump mouth taking his fingers, swirling your tongue around them and doing your best to take all of their length. when his digits pop out of your mouth, he’s crowding against you, kissing you hard. “god, y’r such a good fuckin’ girl f’r me.”

miles will kiss you breathless and smooth his hands over your skin. he leans back on his knees, arranges the pillows under you, wants to watch every bit of you when you take his cock for the first time. you look so cute, honestly ethereal when you’re spread out for him like this; your hair fans like a halo, cheeks tinted with a mix of arousal and embarrassment, your lips plump and slick with spit.

and god, the way you’re fucking looking at him right now- with hazy eyes and a pout on your lips in a silent beg- he just has to pump his cock in his fist a few times, groaning when the action draws your attention to his member and your jaw slacks open.

miles looks down and holy fuck if it isn’t the most precious sight. your puffy folds compared to the size of his cock almost worries him, but he’ll go slow, will take as much time as needed to open you up and make this the most pleasurable experience for you.

so he takes his heavy cock into his hand, teases the tip up and down your slit, bumping your clit and occasionally dipping lightly into your entrance. miles will keep doing this until you’re squirming, whining miserably.

“all ya’ need to do is relax, alright, sugar? i’ll take care of the rest, don’t you worry ‘bout a thing,” he whispers, thumbs rubbing circles into your hips.

his lips quirk affectionately when you respond, visibly relaxing and eyes fluttering closed, ever the good listener. quaritch takes the opportunity to caress your thighs, lifting them to settle on either side of his waist.

and miles is feeling a bit affectionate for your first time together, lowering so he can kiss your collarbone, your cheeks and lips as he eases into you.

he tries to stay mindful of how he’s pushing into you, but fuck you’re just sucking him in and wiggling those hips and whining so sweetly, miles struggles to hold himself together.

and you can’t take all of his dick, not quite yet but it’s okay, he’s definitely going to work you to that point.

“stuffed full of me, ain’tcha baby?”

and eventually the slide gets easier, and miles is thrusting into you at a deep and steady pace, but too slow to bring any resolution to the building ache of your orgasm.

and he knows he’s being a little mean, but the way your whole body spasms is addicting to watch. you catch his sharp gaze and throw your arms over your eyes, unable to fathom miles looking at you with such want and ferocity.

he’s immediately guiding your arms away, “nuh uh, ain’t no hidin’ from me, wanna see my pretty girl,” he coos and he’s looking right into you, pupils blown and canines poking through his smile.

then he tucks his open palm under your knee, lifting your leg until it sits on his chest, and he’s impossibly fucking deeper into you.

something pleasurable twinges inside you, a pressure you’ve never felt that makes you jerk and yelp, fluttering tightly around his length.

“oh it’s right there, yeah?” miles would whisper sharply, gritting his teeth as he aims for your spongy insides until your moans are punctuated by each punch of his hips.

“miles!” you whine, your head pushing into the pillows as your body arches. your cries and begs are a sweetmelody to his ears, and miles can’t help but grin, a wicked quirk of his lips.

“ya’ gonna come, sweets? go on now, lemme see you.” he growls, arm flexing as he takes your ankle into his grasp, lifting your leg even higher. the position gives him leverage to thrust even deeper, his hips slapping harshly into your bum.

and that’s all it takes, a few more of his deep thrusts has you spasming, muscles strung tight with the beginning of your orgasm. you choke on an actual shriek, breath knocked out of you as miles keeps thrusting, dragging himself inside of you.

“fuck!,” miles grits, the feel of your hot velvety walls contracting viciously makes his hips stutter, but he keeps fucking you through your orgasm until you’re clawing at him, face red hot and bangs sticking to your dewy skin.

“jus’ a lil’ more, yeah sugar? keep squeezin’ on my cock,” and miles doesn’t stop, keeps up those thrusts that have your second orgasm pulling out of nowhere, causing you to jerk and yell in surprise. “oh!”

“shit-cummin-“miles groans, thrusting rabidly into you until he’s buried to the hilt, pumping hot cum against your cervix.

and then he’s nearly dead weight on top of you, lazily wrapping you in an embrace that a little stronger than he knows, but you don’t mind.

bonus:

-okay this might be crack but the aftercare goes crazy y’all, quaritch is very attentive and even a little sweet with you. kisses your skin until he works up to your lips, and then he’s climbing out of the sheets to grab a warm towel and a cup of water. sometimes he brings you a sweet if you ask him nicely.

-then he climbs back into bed, wrapping you against his chest. and of course he’s ego is inflated, he’s back to teasing you and describing quite graphically how you felt around him. he chuckles when you groan in irritation, slapping his chest.

-his nose brushes against your jaw, nuzzles into your neck. “love havin’ ya’ like this. all mine, aren’t ya baby?” and miles knows that you are, just wants to hear you say it and admit that he’s the only one.

notes: okay woooow! so much fun writing this! kinda rushed the ending bc im impatient lol. please leave some love if you enjoyed reading! 🩷

[lanareadsbooks]

I’m confused about us?

Inspired by this mood board I made 🩷

This is basically just ooc Billy and literally doesn’t fit into the show’s storyline at all but I love me a good cowboy so I had to write about him.

Tags: Dom!Billy Sub!Reader punishments are given, spanking, smut, oral (m) lemme know if I missed any!

It’s 18 something (?? I have no clue when the show is set in) and you’re 19 when your parents decide drop you off with a man you barely know. William H Booney. They said “he’s a the son of some good friends of ours and they said he’ll straighten you right out” I don’t need straightening. You think. Geez you steel one truck and a bottle of liquor and suddenly everyone thinks your a problem. When you were first introduced you thought “hey maybe this won’t be so bad” You. Were. Wrong. Within the first 30 minutes your parents had left you, you couldn’t stand him. He came and sat down in front of your spot on his couch, Ok listen here little girl. He said, You frowned. Little girl? You thought. These are my rules. Follow them and you and me will be just fine. He smiled. No.1 please don’t steal no trucks or anything I have enough trouble with the neighbors around here I don’t need you making that worse for me. 2 Dont back talk me. There is nothing I hate more than an undisciplined girl. Your frown deeper. Though.. I guess that’s why your here isn’t it? He laughed like it was funny. You scoffed. No I’m here because my parents expect me to stay home and clean or embroider. You laugh, And that’s not something I can do every day. Oh? Speaking of that. You’re not gonna be goin out for the first two weeks. WHAT?! You said shocked. Yes mam I think it’s exactly what you need. He said patting your thigh. I need to not go outside? You asked rudely. No you need to realize you only get what given to you. Now I want you to understand if you break any of my rules you gon be goin over my knee that minute young lady. You understand? He asked. You turned red, w-what? You said hoping you misheard him. Yes mam I don’t know about y’all city people but right here when you misbehave you don’t like what happens to ya. N-no you don’t understand, my parents would never let a strange man do that to me. S-so call my daddy and he’ll tell you you’re not allowed to do that to me. You said almost confidently. Sorry sweetheart your folks were real clear I should do whatever need be to make you behave. Tears came to your eyes, but as long as you’re good you’ll be fine. You can do that right? You said to yourself.

No. No you can not.

Less than 24 hours later you found yourself over his lap, it happened because you saw some boys going on a trail ride through the window, you saw one of them had a flask. You thought how bad do I need that, you had been up since 5am thinking about Billy, how blue his eyes were how commanding his voice was (how good he’d fuck you) but that he’d probably never want you. He apparently he saw you as a little girl. Ugh I don’t like older men anyway (wrongg) you thought. As you tried to quietly sneak down the stairs and out the front door. You saw it was locked with a padlock. Shit you thought. Your eyes darted to the window. You smirked, I don’t know what he was thinking I can fit out of these windows easy. As you were lifting the window up all you saw was two hands towing over you and pushing the window back down. Your heart almost stopped. He leaned down to your ear and said. Now what do you think you’re doing little girl? He asked darkly. Uhhhh. before you could come up with an answer. He had picked you up and put you over his shoulder. You squeaked Ah! You yelled. Put me down!- he did in fact put you down… just over his lap. No! You yelled. Oh hush. No need for a tantrum now. I’m not having a tantrum! I’m a grown woman and you can’t do this t- you were cut off by him putting his hand over your mouth. You tried to wiggle your way out but he easily lifted up your skirt. And you felt a warm hand on your bottom. His hand rose, and fell quickly, alternating cheeks. If there was anyone else in the house they would have definitely heard the loud smacks! Billy was giving you. And your muffled cursing. After about 4 minutes of him doing this you were about to cry. You tried to get away but to no avail. He easily pulled you back to position and gave you two extra hard slaps. And kept going. He finished soon after you started crying. Your bottom stung. Nobody had ever done this to you before. It didn’t hurt that bad but the humiliation hurt He brought you back up and sat you on his lap, you quickly adverted your eyes down as to not make eye contact. But he harshly grabbed your face smooshing your cheeks together, listen, he said dominantly like he was scolding a child. This or worse is gon happen every time you disobey me , you let out a light sob just thinking about it. So I’ll let you decide whether or not you want this kind of stuff to keep happening.

No I really do not you thought.

It was two days later when you ended up in this position again. Billy had jokingly bought you an embroidery kit. And you had not so jokingly told him to fuck off. So he threatened to wash your mouth out with soap… what ? You said. I said you better watch your tongue or I’m gon have to wash your mouth out. He said dominantly. You suddenly felt very wet.. and figured what’s the worst that could happen? There are other things of yours I’d like in my mouth more sir. You said in a lustful tone, while looking up at him from your spot on the bed. Literally two seconds later he was unzipping his pants, he used your mouth roughly holding your hair in a ponytail. After he had came in your mouth and regained himself. You stood up and grabbed his shoulders, pressing yourself against him your body asking him for more- huh? You thought as he quickly sat and pulled you down and back over his knee. W-wait Billy- you tried to protest as he cut he off. Hush. Was all you heard before your skirt was lifted and smacks rained down on your poor bottom. “Luckily” for you it was a lighter one than your first but you were still confused. He was spanking you like a disobedient child. Not like a woman that had just sucked him off. “I’m confused about us” you thought.

This is it for today I’m totally planning on making this a series so request anything that would make sense in the story line once I get a few I’ll write part two so the more yall request the faster I’ll write. Also if you guys want to make any mood boards more this id love it! Also my request have been a bit wonky lately so if it doesn’t seem to be working just dm me please! Thanks for reading!

[strawbrrycuteblog]

hiiiii (I don't remember but did I req to be 🌀 anon? I can't find the original post but i req for insecure reader) anywayyy

puppy!jake x reader, Jake is in heat poor boy but he doesn't know what to do :((( whenever reader leaves the house he finds himself humping reader pillow with his face buried in readers sweater

when reader finally figures out what's goin on w jake it's cuz jake was trying to secretly (not so secretly tho) touch himself under the blanket they were sharing while watching a movie

I just love this concept smmmm like onfg like I haven't seen anyone do hybrid enha in awhile which is odd cuz jake is the biggest puppy boy ever

(also could u make an anon list pls?)

<3🌀

My eye is twitching. But literally nobody is doing hybrid enha anymore and it’s so sad cause it’s my fav 😭 BUT besides the point yes I will make an anon list and yes I will write this for my lovely 🌀

Warnings: mommy kink, breeding kink, tearing off clothes, nipple play, nudity, mature themes, read at your own risk.

You’ve been out with your friends for a couple hours, while your puppy boyfriend was at home humping anything and everything he could to sooth the pain of his heat, you weren’t aware yet still out with friends but all he wanted to do was sink into you and breed you desperately…

Jake sat there on y’all’s bed whining into the soft sweater that smelt like you, humping your pillow, his throbbing dick rutting against the soft material, Jake gripped the sweater tighter in his hands burying his face in it, taking deep breaths that only made his hips fuck the pillow faster..wishing it was you, wanting you to just come home right now and make a mess of him.

Jake panted, dropping the sweater with a whimper and he put his hands on the bed, rubbing his sensitive tip against the pillow over and over again, his eyes squeezing shut, his tongue out of his mouth as his tail wagged back and forth.

His ears were flat against his head, wanting nothing more than for this pillow to be the plush walls of your cunny, the way it sucks his dick in and squeezes around him…

“God I’m gonna cum..” he panted out.

Only seconds after he did, all over y’all’s mattress and your pillow.

Until he heard the front door open, the smell of you already hitting his nose, he got up quickly and fixed the bed, flipping your pillow over to the side that didn’t have his white seed splattered all over it, he slipped on his sweatpants and hissed when it touched his still hardened dick.

“Jake I’m home!”

Fuck you didn’t need to tell him, he could practically smell you a mile away.

He went downstairs forcing a smile and walked over to you who was now in the kitchen.

“Hey puppy, I was thinking since I’m kinda tired we could just watch a movie tonight?”

You asked in a soft tone, one that you used when you calmed him all the times he cried from overstimulation.

“Yeah that sounds..”

He paused when you bent over to grab the popcorn bowl in the lower cabinet, he looked at your lace panties under your skirt, how easily he’d slip his dick in.

You handed him the bowel, “I’m gonna go change into comfy clothes you can make the popcorn.”

“Yeah..okay…” was as he could muster out while dirty thoughts ran through his head.

—you sat on the couch as he already picked a movie he didn’t even give two shits about. You smiled and grabbed the bowl eating some popcorn now that you could relax, Jake got comfy with a blanket over himself, he laid down a bit more and looked at you.

You seemed pretty invested in the movie, oh god how he wanted to change that, his hand trailed under the blanket, under the band of his sweatpants.

He looked at the tank top you were wearing which left nothing to the imagination, the thought of your nipples being covered in his saliva, how they would shown from the tv light..

“Fuck..” he cursed out as his hand was already smearing his pre-cum around his shaft, like it was a lube.

You heard it but didn’t think much of it until you heard a whine and you looked over at him, and bloody hell the sight before you was breathtaking

Your puppy boyfriend jerking his dick off, it was a bit funny cause he was trying to quiet his moans but even if he did that you could still feel the blanket moving up and down.

“Your shit at being discreet..” he flinched immediately and stopped after he opened his mouth eyes and saw you looking at him.

“W-who said I was trying to be?..”

You shrugged and got up, pulling the blanket up, he whimpered when the cold air reached his red tip, “poor puppy is in heat huh?” To which he nodded eagerly, before he pulled you on top of him and ripping your top off, leaning up as he lapped at your nipple.

“Jake! Wait slow down!”

“Been waiting for you all day..I can’t stop now baby..I’m in so much pain..”

He sucked half your tit into his mouth, swirling his smooth tongue around your hardened nipple while his hands pushed your legs apart, you moaned as he pressed his dick against your pussy, he pulled away from your boob and licked the other one.

His eyes looking up at you who had her own eyes rolled to the back of your head, your hand pulling his hair that made him start humping your pajama shorts, hating that it blocked off what he wanted most.

You put all your weight on his lap, pushing his leaking penis against you, he moaned around your nipple that sent vibrations through your body.

“Ah Jake! Please!”

“Needed you all day long…”

You were the one whining now while he had the fun, he started pulling away your shorts, tossing them to the floor and ridded himself of his sweats, he positioned himself in front of your fuck hole and pushed in forcefully.

“Oh god..so tight…just like our first time all over again mommy..”

You found it cute that even when he was trying to dominate you he still called you mommy. You whined and moaned into his mouth as you kissed him roughly, some opened mouthed kisses with your tongue fighting for dominance over the other.

He slammed his hips up into you, desperately wanting to breed you, thoughts of your swelled up tummy with his little pups drove him further to the edge, he looked up at your body, your tits bouncing up and down every time his throbbing tip hit your cervix.

“Oh shit..” he spoke as soon as his eyes caught a glimpse of the bulge through your stomach, he grabbed your hand quickly in fear he’d lose the bulge, pressing your hand against it with his.

“Feel that? All up in your guts..”

“Jake please cum…wanna carry your puppies..”

“S’too much!! Gonna cum!”

“Go ahead baby…gonna breed me up?..get rid of his painful heat..”

He came in second hearing your words, his seed spurting messily into your warm walls, after a few second you started to get off his lap, he held your hips..”please..stay..wanna stay inside..”

You only nodded and laid down with him, pulling the blanket over, rubbing his ears as you both slowly fell asleep.

I’m foaming at the mouth when it comes to hybrid enha.

[sagesolsticewrites]

The Stache Fic

Anto grows a mustache. You like it… a lot.

a/n: Happy Saturday, y’all 😊 How are we liking Manhunt so far?

Warnings: mature content (oral (f receiving), swearing, Anthony Boyle’s JWB Mustache (genuinely how the fuck did he make a Civil War-era stache look hot. I’m upset. Anthony how dare you.) (This is an 18+ fic! Minors begone!)

Word count: 1.5k

Masterlist

“Got it!”

Your boyfriend drops the dramatic pose he had pulled with a laugh, his smile widening as you turn your phone so he could see the result.

“Oh that’s goin’ on Insta for sure,” Anthony declares with a grin.

“Just remember to give me credit,” you tease with a playful poke at his arm.

“Wouldn’t dream of doing anything else, darling.”

He grins at you from across the table, the midmorning sun turning his brown eyes the prettiest shade of amber.

Your eyes latched onto the one new part of his appearance you hadn’t quite gotten used to yet.

The mustache he had grown for his latest role— a period drama miniseries on Apple TV.

“What is it, darling?” He asks, stroking the aforementioned facial hair nonchalantly.

“Nothing,” you say, pressing your thighs together.

You were out for a nice brunch with your boyfriend, you were not going to disrupt it by getting turned on by something as silly as a mustache. Even if it did look… very, very good on him…

You don’t realize you’re almost melting in your seat, bottom lip caught between your teeth, until Anto’s fingertips graze yours from across the table and you snap back to reality in time to see his eyes darken.

“Nothing… you sure about that, sweetness?” He says, and the way his eyes flick down to your lips then back up let you know you’ve been caught. “Y’know, I don’t think I’m quite that hungry anymore.” He says, briskly snapping his menu shut and setting it aside. “I’m thinking we should head home.”

“What—? Honey—”

He ignores your protests as the two of you stand, tossing a few bills onto the table to pay for your drinks and leaving you to give frantic apologies to the waitresses as you rush out.

“Anto, my love, what about breakfast? You need to eat—

“I’ll be fine,” he assures you as he leads you to the car.

“Besides,” he adds, scanning you up and down with a predatory look as he leans to whisper in your ear, “I’m sure I can find something much better to eat at home.”

A shiver runs through you at the implications of that, and you find yourself scrambling into the car despite your now-wobbly legs.

When you arrive home, you barely have time to toss your purse on the counter before you’re slammed against the now-closed door.

Anthony’s hands are firm on your hips, his body pressed flush against yours though his mouth remains frustratingly just out of reach.

“I know you said you liked the mustache before, angel,” he murmurs softly, “But I don’t think you were clear on exactly how much you liked it.”

He steps back for a moment, scanning your face as he taps your hip twice— a check-in.

You tap the back of his hand twice in return; you’re very okay with this, you want to keep going.

His mouth twitches up into a smile— as does that damn mustache— before stepping forward to cage you in once more.

“So,” he continues softly, pretty brown eyes locked on yours, “you gonna tell me?”

A soft whimper escapes you at the heat in his tone, and you find yourself rambling.

“Fuck, I like it so much, Anto, I like it so fucking much.”

“Hm.” He scans your face carefully, then lowers his mouth to hover just above your bare shoulder where the strap of your tank top has slipped off, “So you’ll like it when I do… this?”

His lips brush your skin, the coarse hair on his top lip adding to the sensation in ways that has wetness pooling between your thighs.

“Yes,” you breathe, “yes.”

“And this?”

His lips land on your neck next, and you once again respond in the affirmative as he leaves a series of pretty purple marks on your skin.

“What about this?”

His lips brush along your collarbone down to the tops of your breasts peeking out from the neckline of your shirt, accompanied by the light scratchiness of his mustache.

You gasp, nodding frantically as you momentarily lose the ability to form words.

His hands find the hem of your top, peeling you out of it in one swift motion. If you thought you were losing it at his lips on your neck, you were entirely unprepared for the feeling of his mouth latching onto your nipple, that fucking mustache brushing at the sensitive skin around it.

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god,” you keen, throwing your head back as his tongue swirls around you.

He pulls away with a pop to tend to your other breast, your legs turning to jello at the heated look in his eyes as you moan his name, your fingers raking through his soft curls.

Once you're almost completely weak in the knees from his ministrations, he pulls away and you barely have time to suck in a breath before his mouth crashes onto yours.

Your groan turns into a gasp, quickly swallowed by his mouth, as he effortlessly lifts you into his arms. Your mouths clash hungrily as he carries you to the bedroom, your legs wrapping around his waist on instinct.

“Fuck, Ant—” you groan as he lays you down on your bed, hovering over you as his lips travel deliciously over your body, peeling off your shorts and panties as he goes.

“What is it, angel?” He hums, pressing kisses to the valley between your breasts.

“Need your mouth on me,” you whine, trying to grind up into him to release the pressure in your core.

“My mouth is on you, darling,” he says, and you can feel the smug bastard smirking as he scatters kisses all along your stomach.

“I— shit, not— you know what I mean, Anto, please.” You beg, his lips traveling even lower to brush against your hipbone, his mustache tickling your skin as he moves.

He hums, his mouth moving lower, lower, lower…

You whine, fisting the sheets, as he stops just above where you want him.

“I like hearing you beg, sweetness.” He murmurs against your skin in a low tone that has every part of you turning to pure liquid, molten chocolate eyes meeting yours, “I think you should do it again. Just so I know exactly what you want.”

With a desperate moan, the words come tumbling out of you.

“Fuck, I— I want your mouth on my pussy, baby,” you whine, squirming under the heat of his gaze and the heat of his mouth pressing chaste kisses up and down your thighs, “Want you to eat me out, please.”

“Good girl,” he mumbles against you between kisses, working his way back up your thigh, “That’s all you had to say, darling.”

There’s a flash of something predatory in his eye, and then his mouth is on you— really on you.

His name leaves your mouth in a cry as he dives in, licking deep through your folds, that fucking mustache tickling at your most sensitive parts.

You gasp, hands flying to his hair as his thumb comes up to circle your clit, licking into you like a man starved.

He lets out a groan as you tug at his roots, his hand that’s not preoccupied with making you cum digging into your thigh to keep you still.

“Fuck, you taste fucking amazing, sweet girl,” he gasps against you, breath catching as you try to tug him impossibly closer, “Shit, you really wanted this, huh?”

You can only whine in response, rendered speechless by the tension building in your core. Anthony lets out a soft chuckle at your wordlessness, making your hips buck up at the feeling.

The only sounds in the room are Anto’s murmurs of praise and your gasps and whines and moans, until his tongue brushes a soft, spongy spot inside you and your world goes white.

You come back to yourself a shuddering, gasping mess, gripping your boyfriend’s hair like a lifeline.

Realizing the strength of your grip you quickly let go, chest heaving. Anthony presses a quick kiss to your overstimulated clit, making you jump, before lifting his head to face you.

A soft “fuck” escapes you as you take in his face: pretty mouth glistening, mustache damp with your release.

He climbs back up to lay next to you as you both catch your breath.

“So,” he asks, a cheeky grin lighting up his face, “you like the mustache, huh?”

“Shut up,” you swat playfully at his chest. “Yes, I do,” you say genuinely, pressing a sweet kiss to his lips.

“I’ll keep that in mind for when I’m between projects,” he laughs, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into his chest. “How about I go and make us some breakfast? As an apology for dragging you out of brunch.”

You shake your head, nuzzling into his neck, “Let’s just stay here for a bit.”

“Alright, my love,” he replies, smiling as he presses a kiss to the crown of your head, “Whatever you want.”

[ofsappho]

Heartless CHAPTER 8.5

🔞 Simon “Ghost” Riley x reader 🔞

Fake marriage/marriage of convenience

-

You and Ghost get into a fight when he refuses to go dancing with you

-

Hello. I know it’s been a while 😭😭😭 I’m so so so sorry. Thank you all again for your patience. This was supposed to be one big chapter, but I thought I’d post what I have now just to make everyone happier while I work on the rest. A lot of smut in the next chapter. Hope y’all enjoy. YES THIS IS THE SET UP FOR GETTING DICKED DOWN BY COWBOY HAT GHOST. PLEASE BEAR WITH ME.

If one were to go off your husband’s tone, they’d think you just walked out of the bathroom in a stained brown paper bag. “You’re not goin’ out,” Ghost says after re-locating his jaw to its natural position under his balaclava.

“Hm. Thank you for your input, Ghost, but I wasn’t aware that I’d asked.”

You spin around with a huff and march back into the bathroom to examine your appearance, flinging the door open with such force that it slams into the wall.

Before you can shut it behind you, maybe lock it just to piss him off, your husband braces a veiny forearm on the doorframe and leans in. “You’re not. Not like that.”

“Why? What’s wrong with the way I look?” You ask as you go in with more blue glitter on your eyelids.

“You know what I mean.” His voice rumbles gruff and low.

And you can see his eyes looking at your ass through your cutoff denim shorts in the mirror. “Am I ugly? You don’t like it?”

Said shorts make your legs look fifteen miles long and are cut almost indecently short, accentuating your full hips and flattering your tummy. To fit the night's theme, you have on a very nice push-up bra with a white crop top tied in a bow under your boobs. And black cowboy boots, of course.

You have a matching hat somewhere…

Ghost rolls his eyes. “Fuckin’…” He sighs.

“Gorgeous, doll. Don’t pout. C’mere.” Then he reaches out and snags you by the waistband of your shorts, pulling you into his tall frame. You go easily, unable to resist him even if you wanted to.

Ghost tugs his balaclava down to chastely kiss your cheek. “Prettiest bird I’ve ever seen.” Please, like you can’t feel him pawing your butt with a gloved hand.

You rock yourself back, barely grinding against him. “Then I’m going out. Like this,” You tell him. You bat his hands aside to face him, your nose inches away from his mask. “You can come with me if that would make you feel better.”

Did Ghost really expect you would be content to twiddle your thumbs at the barracks and not explore London? You were pleasantly surprised to find a thriving line dance scene in this part of the world, and doing silly little dances while sort of drunk to cheesy country music sounds like your idea of a good time.

So this lovely Saturday night, you decided, ‘Why the fuck not?’ You can handle your sore back tomorrow.  And now you’re trying to convince your stubborn mountain of a husband to tag along.

Ghost releases you so quickly that you stumble and have to catch yourself. “I don’t dance,” He says in a flat, deeply unenthusiastic voice.

“Please? It’ll be fun!” This might be a little cliche, but you’ve never gone on a date with him before. You’ve spent your time hanging around him and his team, wherever they may be, and yeah, you signed up for that…

But you want a date. You want overpriced drinks and holding his hand as you walk down the street. Something more. That doesn’t seem as unreasonable as he’s making it out to be.

“I don’t dance.” He turns away without looking twice and strides out into the bedroom. Ghost’s coldness hurts more than his rejection.

You don’t understand why you care so much about something so small. If he were anyone else, you’d take the L, move on, and go where you’re appreciated. “I wouldn’t even make you-“ You try, still staring at his back and wishing he’d meet your gaze.

But you don’t want someone else. You want him, just for the night. Have you asked him for anything else before? You haven’t.

“No.” Oh, is Ghost suddenly too good to be seen with you in public? Marrying you under false pretenses is fine, but God fucking forbid you go to a bar together?

“But-“

He snorts. “Fuck no.” He strips off his gloves before tossing them on the bedside table, clearly uninterested in discussing this further. “Christ, woman. Don’t look at me like that. Can’t you take no for an answer?”

You look at yourself again in the mirror. Blue eyeshadow, long, fluttery fake eyelashes. Pink lipgloss dabbed on your mouth. And glitter on your eyelids and cheekbones, like a goddamn fairy.

You’re too beautiful to be upset and too beautiful to sit around doing nothing with a man who couldn’t give less of a fuck.

Where is your cowboy hat?

You find it buried in a suitcase. “Ugh. Why are you being such an inconsiderate asshole? Go fuck yourself,” You snap as you set the hat neatly atop your hair. Then you grab your phone and send a couple of messages. Soap might be free, and you’d even settle for Sergeant Garrick or Alejandro.

You have your IDs stashed in your bra, along with some pounds. You do a once-over in the mirror and brush some imaginary lint off your cleavage.

“Where are you-“

You cut him off. “Out. If you won’t dance with me, I’ll find someone who will.” Someone who won’t make you want to cry, whose dismissal won’t feel so awful. You’re not interested in testing out the durability of your mascara.

“Love-“ You can hear his heavy footsteps heading your way.

Unfortunately for him, you’re already in the living room, making a beeline straight for your front door.

Your phone dings.

“Alejandro is free. I’ll see you later, baby. Don’t wait up,” You call over your shoulder, too upset to look back.

Your mouth presses into a flat, pinched line. You’ll get so drunk you won’t remember this fight and exhaust yourself dancing, and tomorrow, you can go back to pretending like you don’t care about Simon.

-

Music pounds in your ears. A man croons over guitars and banjos and a trilling piano in a thick Southern accent as Colonel Vargas turns you around the dance floor of this American-themed pub. The place is so over-the-top that you find it charming - everyone’s dressed like you, in cowboy hats and boots, and you hear more than a few lousy imitation American accents. Very quaint.

Blue and magenta lights drape all of the dancers in a riotous rainbow of color. There’s a mix of clumsy young folks your age, out for a cheeky pint with the lads, so to speak, and older regulars who came here for the same reason you did; to dance.

Alejandro has a very respectful hand on the small of your back as he effortlessly guides you side to side, forward and back.

You relax and let yourself sway with his pace, your feet moving perfectly in time, even once you stop consciously thinking about it. “You’re good at this!” You say loud enough so he can hear you over the music.

Alejandro flashes a white-toothed grin at you from under the brim of his black hat, the band trimmed in shining sterling silver.

“I’d hope so. Back home, in Las Almas, we go dancing a lot. Rudy and I.” He falls silent to guide you past a few people conducting themselves far less elegantly than the two of you.

You feel as though you’ve just stumbled on some great secret and found worthy by the keepers.

“Rudy?”

Alejandro’s face is a sight to behold. You can see a red tinge on his tanned cheeks under the lights. “My, uh, how do you say it? Los Vaqueros. He is my… vaquero.” Cowboy. His dark eyes glimmer, and you understand. Alejandro and his Rudy are continents apart, and you can taste their chemistry from where you stand. You feel it thrumming under Alejandro’s skin, like the mere mention of Rudy is enough to bring him to life in a way you’ve never seen before.

“Back, back, there you go. Out and-“ He lets go of your other hand and pulls back, leaving you plenty of space.

Your hair fans out around you as you twirl towards him on the balls of your feet. “Spin. Very smooth, Colonel,” You compliment. One of his arms wraps around your waist, and the other folds gracefully over your chest.

You untangle your limbs from Alejandro as if you’ve been dance partners for years. “Sounds like you haven’t seen your cowboy in a while.”

“I haven’t. Our jobs keep us busy,” He says. His voice is quiet, a timid undercurrent of sound that you can barely hear over the speakers.

“He serves?”

Girls covered in dark orange tan and shimmering body lotion spill onto the dance floor in a mess of giggles. Alejandro deftly pulls you out of their chaotic path before you fall over them on your ass.

“We served together,” He says as he dips you with a solid arm supporting your back.

Rudy must make Alejandro so happy. “How romantic.” Ghost would never smile like the Colonel does. But what would Simon look like if he were so happy? Would his voice soften? Would he dance with you, even alone in your apartment?

“Sometimes.” Your dance partner catches your hat right before it slips off your head.

You squeeze his shoulder in gratitude. “He sounds like a wonderful man. I hope I get to meet him one day.” 

“Stick around long enough, and you might.”

“Well, then I’ll plan on it.”

The song ends, and something less suited to two-stepping plays next.

The two of you have drinks on a table next to the dance floor. You’re not worried about anyone tampering with them; Alejandro has already scared off any fellow who so much as looked your way. “He’d like you,” He murmurs to himself.

You have your Corona with lime, Alejandro has been working on a glass of expensive tequila all night, sipping it as delicately as if he were drinking tea.

He’s looking at you funny. The way you’re chugging this beer is probably not helping. You finish it and wince at the taste.

“You want to talk about what Lt. Riley said to make you so sad, hermanita?”

You didn’t even tell Ghost where you were going. That’s how fucking mad you were. You turned your phone off once you met with Alejandro, not wanting to see any calls or messages that would’ve broken your resolve. But there’s a worse possibility - that there aren’t any calls or messages at all.

“Not really.” You let the empty bottle thump as you drop it on the sticky, barely clean table.

His disinterest isn’t supposed to be a bad thing. Ghost could be cruel, or unkind, or abusive. You’re very lucky he isn’t any of that.

Kind, handsome, and affectionate in his own way is a hell of an improvement. For a moment, you feel ashamed that you want more. So what if he hates dancing enough to curse at you over it? So what if he doesn’t know who you are, the things you like and don’t like, your favorite movies, or why you avoid your mother’s calls?

You busy yourself with looking at everyone else so you don’t have to meet Alejandro’s knowing gaze. “Sí. Whatever you say,” He sighs into his tequila. Hopefully, that’s the end of the questioning.

Of course, it isn’t. “That one is… Rudy doesn’t like El Espectro.” Alejandro’s brow furrows as he thinks over his following words. “But I wouldn’t want anyone else on my side.” There’s more than a little respect in his voice and the kind of confidence in your husband that makes you want to be a bit more confident, too.

“Sometimes I think he wants me on his side. Then I remember that he’s a stranger, really, and I’m fucking projecting. Projecting that he’ll ever want me more than, you know, normal.” Maybe the beer is making you chattier than usual. You can feel shit you’d never say out loud just flow from your mouth.

Alejandro snorts. “He definitely wants you. We all know that. It’s very clear,” He quips, snapping you straight out of your vulnerability.

“Ugh, shut up,” You tell him as you blush a bright red under your makeup and knock your elbow into one of his buff arms.

He leers at you across the table, waggling his dark eyebrows and grinning once you start giggling. “Why do you think Soap has those new earplugs, eh?”

“Gross!” In revenge, you make a play for his drink. You don’t love anything harder than a glass of wine, but you’ll make an exception to spite Alejandro.

He laughs, holding his glass above his head where you can’t reach it. “I’m just playing!” Alejandro waits until you’re sulking in your seat before setting it down. “I won’t tell you you’re wrong, necessarily. But- but I think you’re underestimating him. Lots of people do. Ghost always gets the jump on ‘em. He might get the jump on you.” You gaze longingly at the remnants of his tequila. 

“Whatever. I don’t want to talk about him anymore. It’ll just ruin my night. I need another drink.” That will solve your problems, at least temporarily. You’re not supposed to drink on your meds, but technically you’ve already started. In for a penny, in for a pound. And those rules are just suggestions, not hard restrictions.

The very friendly bartender with a thick British accent you can barely understand and nice eyeliner hands you one lemon drop shot, then another after you down the first. It burns like lightning in your esophagus. But the burn eventually turns into a pleasant tingle, warming you from head to toe.

You’re working on your third shot when Alejandro catches up to you. “Careful,” He calls over your shoulder.

You wave away his concern, another drink already in hand. This one is a rum and Coke, way too heavy on the rum. Did the pretty bartender do that on purpose, one girl to another? You like her even more.

The next song comes on - something loud and awful, its catchy beat punctuated by dubstep rooster crows.

“Come on, I fucking love this song,” You say, just barely slurring your syllables. “I’m not gonna shake my ass alone.”

-

GHOST POV

Your phone is off.

Ghost is embarrassed to admit he’s checked every hour since you’ve been gone. At least three hours, now bordering on four. And he knows your phone is off because when he calls, it goes straight to your fuckin’ voicemail. Which you haven’t set up yet, so he’s stuck listening to some stupid robot telling him to “leave a message after the tone.”

It’s driving him almost as mad as you are. When you get back - not if, when, the second thing he’s going to make you do is change that goddamn voicemail message.

The first thing is something along the lines of “make you sorry.” Ghost hasn’t ironed out the details yet. No matter. There’ll be plenty of time for that later.

It’s dark out. It’s been dark out this whole time. You left with the sunset at your back.

While he knows Col. Vargas is with you, London is large. You’ve never been here before. Col. Vargas ain’t half bad with a map, but he’s not from around these parts either.

Maybe you never made it to… wherever you were going. How the fuck would Ghost know? How the fuck would anyone know?

He’s even angrier with himself that he was too much of a prick to listen when you mentioned it.

In the privacy of your quarters, Ghost pulls his mask off to run his hands through his shorn hair. The hair you cut.

It’s so quiet when he’s alone. This is the first time since- since you married him that he’s been alone.

You hum. A lot. Or you listen to music on your dinky wired earbuds, and he catches the sounds of your foot tapping along.

You snore, though not loudly. He’d never tell you, and he’s certainly slept under worse conditions. But it’s… nicer to kit up for the day, to brush his teeth and roll on his socks, knowing someone there will be waiting when he gets back.

Fuck.

Did you take the Tube? Buy a ticket? Oyster cards are cheaper, but you wouldn’t know that. Ghost should’ve told you. He should’ve been at your side.

He’s watched you struggle with the unfamiliar currency. You had all sorts of odd American notions about coins and exchange rates. Ghost had to correct you twice. After that, he secretly swapped out some of your dollar bills for pounds so that you’d be alright no matter what.

He left you with more than enough for a cab there and back. But what if the cabby overcharged you after hearing your accent? What if-

It’s a major metropolitan area. Criminals abound. Kidnappers driving ‘round cabs, stalkers, nonces. Statistically, at least one serial killer or two.

God-fucking-damn it.

You could be dead in a ditch, all because he didn’t want to go dancing. In hindsight, it doesn’t seem worth the quarrel.

This place is too quiet without you in it. He can’t stand to sit here in silence a second longer, staring at the lack of notifications on his phone and seeing shadows in the corners of the room. Closing his eyes won’t chase them away - he’s tried.

Simon only sees you covered in blood, a hole in your pretty head. Or duct tape over your mouth and your clothes ripped off, or you lost and alone in some alley, never to come home. Another name on the list of people he’s-

That’s enough of that.

He slips his gloves on, then pulls his daily wear mask over his head. Ghost has been choosing the balaclava more often. It’s something softer and a little civilian for you.

Not like you’re even here to appreciate it, he grumbles internally.

He runs the last moments he saw you over in his head a few times. You said Vargas was free, implying there may have been other options, but the Colonel was the first to respond. Ghost will eat his mask if Sgt. MacTavish wasn’t one of those other options.

The front door slams into the wall with more force than necessary. It makes a satisfyingly loud bang.

As Ghost picks his way through corridors he knows like the back of his hand, he thinks he should have told you again how beautiful you were. You would have left with a smile and kiss instead of a cold scowl.

He’s only being a good husband that watches out for you. That’s it. Ghost takes pride in being good at damn near everything, other than driving, so it’s natural for him to get worked up. Worked up is the wrong phrase. That implies that he’s agitated. He’s not agitated.

Is that a trace of your perfume he smells? Couldn’t be. Doesn’t make sense. Perfume doesn’t linger that long in the air. Ghost can smell gunpowder from a kilometer away and old blood three city blocks over.

And you. The scent is too faint for his comfort. If he can’t touch you soon, can’t gorge his eyes on your face and leave teeth marks in your skin, something’s gonna break.

Ghost leaves a boot print on the door to the communal bunks as he kicks it open. “Sgt,” He calls out curtly.

Surely, man-to-man, Soap can be reasoned with?

“Ah, so you’ve decided to show your face. Well, mask.”

Apparently not.

Irritation prickles down Ghost’s spine. “So that’s the way it’s gonna be.”

Soap finally condescends to get out of his bunk and stare Ghost down like he’s shit on the bottom of the sergeant’s shoe. “You’re a right eejit, Lt,” The other man snaps, crossing his arms over his chest.

Ghost doesn’t have time for this. “Where’d she go?”

“Fuck should I tell you for?”

His patience and self-control and restraint are hanging by a fucking thread, and Johnny’s disdain is like the edge of sharp scissors against it. Is Ghost the only person on this goddamn planet who cares about your well-being? Including yourself?

You’d be displeased if Ghost got your best friend’s blood under his nails. Very displeased. Simon holds onto that reminder for dear life.

“You out your fuckin’ mind? She could be-, “ At this rate, Ghost will never snap at you again. One go at this circus is more than enough for him.

“Ain’t my job tae find your wife,” Soap growls as he sticks a finger in Ghost’s face.

The sergeant is wasting precious fucking time treating Ghost like he’s the bad guy, and you could be gone by now. Ghost has bigger fucking priorities.

Simon misses America - which is something he never thought he’d think. England is full of his ghosts, moments away from breaking out of their graves. In your homeland, you were safe.

“You’re supposed to be her best mate. You don’t know where she is?”

Soap gnashes his teeth, his eyes glinting with fury. “Should fuckin’ kill you, you know that? Awa’ an’ bile yer heid.”

“I’ll come back and beat you black and blue after I find her.” Ghost’s brain teems with swarming, sticky thoughts, blacker than an oil slick. He needs- he’s not sure why he can’t breathe. His heart rate picks up, and he doesn’t know why and it needs to not do that.

He needs you.

“Worry about yourself, Ghost. I won’t need tae do a goddamn thing. She’ll have you on your knees like a dog.” Soap pauses. “You made her fucking cry.” His words hang in the air like a noose around Ghost’s neck.

“Wasn’t tryin’ to,” Simon retorts. Then he shuts his mouth and thanks God that the mask hides his face. He sounds like a whiny, immature brat and certainly feels like one. Not a man, not the kind of man he should be for you.

“I told you not tae hurt her.”

Ghost remembers. With vivid clarity. “…” On the tip of his tongue hangs the thought that Soap hadn’t needed to. Ghost took one good look at you in that dress, the simpering sweetness in your eyes replaced by razor-sharp steel in an instant, and he knew he could never hurt you.

But what Soap meant is that he’d trusted Ghost with someone precious, and today, that trust was shattered. “Aye, so ya can put a shot in some poor sucker’s head from 2,500 meters, but ya can’t spend time with the woman you married? And be fuckin’ polite to her?” The sergeant’s tone is so caustic he could use it to clean a Scorpion’s engine.

Simon is familiar with guilt. Guilt has been his companion his whole life. The kind of guilt that can never be cleaned because the people he wronged won’t come back.

This is a new kind of guilt. One with the hope of absolution. It makes him deeply uncomfortable, almost nauseous.

“…I can’t make it up to her if I’m not with her.”

That tiny concession still isn’t enough. “Useless. Absolutely fuckin’ useless,” Soap mutters.

“Johnny, you ‘bout done takin’ the piss out of me?”

“Right now, that’s Sgt. MacTavish to you, Lt.”

Dammit. “Sgt. MacTavish. Sir.” There’s blue glitter on the sink back home from where you were dusting it across your face. Pretty shade of blue. But Ghost had turned away when you stormed out, so he can’t remember how it looked on you.  “Please.” Did it run when you cried? He hopes not. You shouldn’t waste tears on a bastard like him.

Soap doesn’t speak for some time.

Simon feels some odd, heart-wrenching, panicky desperation build and build, his hands grow clammy under the gloves.

His phone buzzes, and for a second, Ghost hopes it’s you. But it’s not - Soap’s sent him an address. Some shitty little pub not more than a half-hour drive.

“There. Don’t come back until you’ve proper apologized. An’ if you make her cry again? I’ll dummy-cord ya head to ya hand since you’ve lost your goddamn mind.”

Under Ghost’s mask, there’s the tiniest smile.

Soap claps him on the shoulder. “Now get out of here.”

-

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[oririexcinere]

"i must not tell lies" -The Boy Who Lived

Verse 1

Dear Delphini, I’m sorry that that man is your father, let me be honest I look at him and wish your grandpa woulda wore a condom I’m sorry that you gotta grow up and then stand behind his shadow Life is hard, I know, the challenges always gon’ be this home Sometimes our parents make mistakes that affect us until we grown And you a good kid that need good leadership Let me be your mentor, since your daddy don’t teach you shit Never let yourself depend on a 'leader' Either must die right there or expeliarmus that man, child Never fall in the pureblood bullshit, that’s bad religion Please remember, you could be dead even if you got horcruxes Never twist your morality, whether right or wrong, youre not just a Black too Get some discipline, don’t cut them corners like your daddy did, fuck what Slughorn did Understand, no throwin’ Killing Curses and hidin’ wands, that’s law Be proud of who you are, your strength come from within Lotta Dark Lords, that’s real, but your daddy ain’t one of them no more And you nothin’ like him, you’ll carry yourself as queen Can’t understand me right now, just play this when you 18

Verse 2

Dear Tom Sr, your son got some achivements, I hope you undermine them Especially with all the muggles that’s hurt inside this climate You one of 'em, so you know how it feels to be in alignment Dear Merope, you look for a future with emotion and hopin’ a man can see you and not be running you gave birth to a master manipulator Even usin’ you to prove who he is a huge favor I’m blamin’ the Gaunts for all his crazy believes Psychopath intuition, the man who like to play victim You created a horrible fuckin’ person, the nerve of you, Merope Girl, sit down, what I’m about to say is heavy, now listen Mhm, your son’s a sick man with sick thoughts I think wizards like him should die Him and Grindelward should get fucked up in a cell for the rest they life He hates Mixedbloods, enslaves them, with legislations of a selfharming fetish Cut his nose and hair off ‘cause he understand bein’ a monster just fit him better He got sorry excuses of wizards in his Death Eaters that pay him on a monthly allowance A child should never be compromised and he keepin’ their children around him And we gotta raise our kind knowin’ there’s purists like them lurkin’ Fuck a Department of Mysteries battle he should die so all of these wizards can live with a purpose I been in this world 7 years, I’ma tell y’all one lil’ secret It’s some weird shit goin’ on and some of these politicians be here to police it They be blamin' victims all inside of they home and feedin’ em to The Daily Prophet Then leak articles of themselves to further push their agendas To any wizard that be stayin’ neutral, know that you’re playin’ your children Or better, you’re sellin’ your grandkids, to the weirdos, not the good ones Rita Skeeter said, “Get you the truths,” so I’ma get mines The Ministry ‘bout to get raided, too, it’s only a matter of time Ayy, Longbottom, keep the family away, hey, Greengrass, will you keep the family away? To anybody that embody the love for they kids, keep the family away They lookin’ at you too if you standin’ by him, keep the family away I’m lookin’ to hex through any purist that lives, keep the family safe

Verse 3

Dear Bella, I’m sorry that your father wasnt active inside your world He didn’t commit to much but his career, yeah, that’s for sure He a narcissist, misogynist, livin’ inside his head Try destroy families rather than takin’ care of his own Shoulda bene teachin’ you spells or readin’ bedtime stories to you Or at your 11th birthday, opening the Hogwarts letter with you Instead, he be in France, payin’ for sex and poppin’ Potions Examples that you don’t deserve I wanna tell you that you’re loved, you’re brave, you’re kind but id be lyin' You got a gift to change the world and could change your baby daddy’s mind ‘Cause our children is the future, but he lives inside confusion Money’s always been illusion, but that’s the life he’s used to His father didn’t claim him neither History do repeat itself, sometimes it don’t need a reason But how I like to say it’s not your fault that he’s hidin’ another child Give ‘em grace, it’s the reason I respect Mr. Weasley So our babies like you can cope later Its a hopeless world but i wish for the better I never wanna hear you chase that man ‘cause his fell behavior Sittin’ at his feet with his other puppets for validation You need to know that love is eternity and trumps all pain I’ll tell you who your Lord is just play this song when it rains Yes, he’s a horcrux maker, torturer, dictator, right And a fuckin’ deadbeat that should never say “more life” Meet the Riddles

Verse 4

Dear Death Eaters, Take those masks off, I wanna see what’s under them achievements Why believe you? You never gave us nothin’ to believe in ‘Cause you lied about blood views, you lied about your legacies You lied about your family tree and your past tense all is perjury You lied about your superiority, you lied about your loyalty Hey Malfoys, Yall pussies, you lied on him, I know they all got you in ‘em You lied about your Imperios, you lied about your Lord, huh You lied about them other criminals that’s out there hopin’ that you come You lied about the only leader that can offer you some help, a greater good solution for yall

Verse 5

Dear Tom, I know you probably thinkin’ I wanted to crash your party But truthfully, I don’t have a hatin’ bone in my body This supposed to be a good exhibition within the Order But you fucked up the moment you showed up at my family’s house Why you had to stoop so low to discredit some selfulfilling prophecy? just for the lore? Guess intelligence is lost when the metaphors don’t reach you And I like to understand ‘cause your house was never a home 70, but you showin’ up as a 11-year-old You got mental problems, integrity problems rituals-coping’ and body problems, bad with money, Gringotts Solicitin’ wizardkind problems, therapy’s a lovely start I try to empathize with you ‘cause I know that you ain’t been through nothin’ Crave entitlement, but wanna be loved so bad that it’s puzzlin’ No dominance, let’s recap moments when you didn’t fit in No secret handshakes with your 'friends' No praise words from your Matron No cultural cachet to binge, just disrespectin' your mother Identities on the fence, don’t know which family will love ya, its back at the orphanage The skin that you’re livin’ in is compromised in souls Can’t channel your power even when holdin’ a Hallow You a blood shamer, you gon’ hide your own papa, ain’t ya? You embarrassed of him, that ain’t right, ain’t no mama to love you either Fuck a battle, this a long-life war with yourself.

mic drop.

[virtualbunny]

we have headcanons abt the first time goin at it after coming back from the war, but how about the LAST time before they left??

Oh I never thought about that🤭

Miller’s squad: doing it the last time before they got drafted

Gender neutral as always

⚠️NSFW⚠️

John Miller:

Tbh he doesn’t have that high of a sex drive💀

But it’s still… you know.. A need(?)

idk lol but if he’s gonna be away for a while

…Or forever (rip 😔)

He might as well make ~love~ with you for the last time

And oh boy

He didn’t think it was gonna be this hard being away from you

Mike Horvath:

Y’all are at it for a good couple of hours

In the beginning it was mostly foreplay and fooling around

In the middle of it was MAGICAL and very yeehaw let’s go cowgirl (*wink* wink*)

But in the end it was very emotional

Because again, you two didn’t know if it was going to be the last time in a while or forever (rip x2😔)

Daniel Jackson:

Emotional through out the whole time

Not like sobbing and crying about how much you’re gonna miss fucking each other

More like intimate, close body contact, body loving- fucking

With some spicy to it ofc because it’s Jackson

But seriously though

It’s very sweet and intimate

He’ll kiss all over you while telling you how much he’s gonna miss you as a whole person

Your wonderful mind and body both

And he’ll praise the lord and the whole spirits through the whole thing for giving him the most spectacular last time (rip x3😔) before getting drafted

Richard Reiben:

The opposite of Jackson lol

…Kinda

Well, he’s definitely more of a beast than Jackson

And that’s the way of him showing how much he’ll miss you

He won’t talk that much, maybe cuss from time to time because if he did he would start sobbing

He’s rough because his mind is full of soooo many thoughts at once and he has to concern at something else (you obvi) to as I mentioned not start sobbing his eyes out

At the end he’ll hold you close to him and kiss your neck over and over again, telling you how much he loves you and he is gonna miss you

(Thank the odds that he didn’t die)

Irwin Wade:

Mostly it’s missionary

He wants you close like if it was the last time he’ll ever hold you

He wants to look at your face like if it was the last time (rip x4😔)

It’s not much talking

And if it was, it would be whispering

Some tears would shed of course but nothing “dramatic”

Overall it’s wholesome, just like him🤭

Stanley Mellish:

He’s nasty

In a good way

Wants to do every position possible

It’s wholesome in a way

Idk in what way ‘cause he’s really going at it but whatever

It’s dirty, sweat dripping from both of you

Tbh, he wants to do it at every place he can think of

“I’m gonna fuck you as if I was suppose to die tomorrow“ (rip x5😔)

Timothy Upham:

Cries💀 (no it’s not full blown having a break down with snot running down his face)

But so do you

It’s just that he’s not gonna see you for a long while

And he’s afraid that it’s gonna be the last (not rip👍)

You’re probably on top

He’s a bit emotional to do all the work

But so are you

So it ends up in a spooning position

With him hugging you from behind and just thrusting slowly

Adrian Caparzo:

Nasty mf 2.0

Also wants to do it everywhere that he can think of

And the position

Be prepared for a long time

Even though he’s kinda rough it’s still romantic

Dirty talks in a sweet- romantic way if that makes sense

Thrusts like there’s no tomorrow (rip x6😔)

[cyarskj1899]

Tory Lanez’ Leaked Jail Call To Kelsey Harris Surfaces, And He Sounds Guilty As Hell

Shannon Dawson

Source: (Photo by Sarah Morris/WireImage) (Photo by Frazer Harrison/Getty Im / (Photo by Sarah Morris/WireImage) (Photo by Frazer Harrison/Getty Images for The Recording Academy)

Tory Lanez’s jail call to Kelsey Harris has leaked, just a week after the rapper was convicted of shooting Megan Thee Stallion.

According to XXL, somehow a YouTuber named Nique at Nite obtained audio from Lanez’s jail call to Kelsey Nicole Harris after he was taken into custody following the shooting in July 2020. Sounding distressed and regretful, the Toronto native calls Harris to check in on her and Megan.

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“Ya’ll got out safe and everything, yall good?” he asks Harris, to which she responds, “Megan’s still in the hospital. I’m outside the hospital.” The rapper then begins to repeatedly ask for the name of the hospital that Megan was taken to for treatment.

Harris replies, “Cedar.”

Tory Lanez apologizes frantically throughout the entire call

With regret in his voice, Lanez begins to apologize over and over, presumably for shooting the Houston femcee. The rapper claimed he was too drunk and didn’t realize what he was doing.

“Bruh, I know [Megan] prolly never, ever gonna talk to me ever again, but, I just want you to know, bruh, I was just so fuckin’ drunk that I ain’t even know what the fuck was going on,” he continues.

“I ain’t even know what the fuck was goin’ on, like, deadass. I ain’t never do some shit like that. I just… so fuckin’ drunk, n***a, I didn’t even understand what the fuck was going on. Regardless, though, that’s not gonna make anything right, and it’s not gonna make my actions right. I’m just deeply sorry, bruh. I never even move like that. I never move like that at all.”

Harris lets out a sigh before responding, “I don’t know. There’s a lot… There’s a lot that happened, but…”

Midway through her sentence, Lanez cuts Harris off. “A whole lot. I feel like… I feel crazy. But in the state… Like, what happened happened, I can’t take it back but I’m just telling you I’m sorry,” he says in the leaked clip.

“I think I was just too drunk. When I got to the house, I assure you, all the top n****s, they gave me like five shots off the door. I was outta there.”

The rapper later admits that he did not remember what led up to the argument between him, Meg and Harris.

“I don’t even remember what we was even arguing about.”

Harris chimes in, “Yeah, I don’t… I was already fucked up by the time you got there.”

Before the call ends, Lanez asks Harris to call his security so that they can figure out a way to bail him out of jail. Harris mentioned that Meg’s team was already trying to figure out a way to spin the story before the news about the assault leaked to the public.

Sounding fearful, Lanez worried that the shooting would impact him negatively.

“Regardless if I get out of here today or not bro, I just want to let y’all know I’m sorry. I’d never did that shit if I wasn’t that drunk,” he says before the call ends.

Social media reacts to the leaked audio

After the audio leaked online, social media lit up with reactions. Supporters of Megan Thee Stallion used the opportunity to clap back at all of the naysayers that doubted the “WAP” rapper’s testimony. 

“Me listening to that jail call of Tory Lanez and Kelsey and looking at y’all that tried to defend him,” one Twitter user wrote. “Now y’all should feel dumb as hell like him.”

Another person commented:

“How dumb do you have to be to know that jail calls are recorded, still admit to a crime in it, and then spend the next two years leading a hate train for the woman you shot and pretending you did nothing to her? sentence tory lanez to life. kelsey’s ass too.”

A third Twitter user highlighted how misogynoir worked in Lanez’s favor, even though he initially doubted that he would receive support from fans after the incident.

“The saddest part of the Tory Lanez jail call is him being so certain that he would get all the backlash cause even he couldn’t fathom why Megan the victim would get any…but misogynoir worked,” the post read.

As MADAMENOIRE previously reported, Lanez, whose real name is Daystar Peterson, was convicted Dec. 23 of shooting Megan Thee Stallion. The 30-year-old star was charged with assault with a semiautomatic firearm, discharging a firearm with gross negligence and having a loaded, unregistered firearm in a vehicle.

Lanez’s frantic jail call served as a crucial piece of evidence throughout the turbulent trial. Prosecutors wondered why Lanez would express regret if he was in fact innocent of shooting Meg that night in the Hollywood Hills. There was also Harris’ text message following the incident, where she confessed to Lanez shooting the Grammy award-winning Hip-Hop star.

Tory Lanez’s sentence hearing is set for Jan. 27, 2023. He faces up to 22 years in prison and deportation to his native Canada.

RELATED CONTENT: Candace Owens Came To Megan Thee Stallion’s Defense And Showed A Side Folks Haven’t Seen Before

Sent from my iPhone

He’s such an idiot ugh

[oiladgivememoney99]

SCP Rewrite Season 2: The Sentient Micro Organism

“Alpha Strike, head off to the Helipad, got a new mission for ya,” Flooper said over the radio.

“Ugh…” Cory groaned, he had been having a great day sitting on the couch and doing nothing, Nikole also reciprocated the lack of a want to do anything.

“You heard him, everyone move,” Triana ordered, the team slowly got up from what they were doing, excluding Lara who sat at the computer.

The team of five moved through the cold, white hallways of the facility, passing by scientists leading D Class to testing chambers, and security guards… well guarding the facility.

“Don’tcha normally get updated before we get missions, LT?” Scott asked.

“Usually, surprise missions aren’t impossible though…”

Nikole looked grumpily at the floor. “I swear to God if we’re on initial containment duty, I’m gonna kill this new General… and that Otis guy,”

“I say do that last one anyway,” Hooper chuckled. “I don’t got a good feelin’ about that guy,”

“No one does,” Lara spoke over the radio. “He’s been enforcing a curfew on the humanoid Skips recently, pretty fucked up,”

“That’s horrible,” Cory said, his eyes widening,”

Triana cleared her throat. “We can discuss this later, team; The General seems to trust him, so-”

“You’ll trust him, yeah,” Nikole interrupted, a look of frustration on her face as they exited into the outside area of the facility.

“There y’all are,” Flooper greeted them, Agent O’Connor was standing behind him looking thoroughly uninterested. “You’ll be investigatin’ Site-016 with O’Connor, put on your Hazmat suits and get goin’”

“I thought containin’ 16 was easy? Just keep it below zero degrees,” Hooper shrugged.

“I thought so too, somethin’ happened to the site that made it breach containment,”

O’Connor cleared her throat. “Which is why I’m investigating it; you’re all here to make sure I don’t die,”

“Just like the last time we worked with you!” Cory nodded.

“...Yes… why do you sound excited about that?” The woman turned her head curiously.

“Cory’s a little strange,” Triana pinched the bridge of her nose.

“Hey!”

---

The helicopter ride was as quiet as it was quick, Alpha Strike and O’Connor landed at the large site, all wearing the yellow hazmat suits they had to wear to avoid the infection. A singular security guard standing at entrance of the outer gate, the team walked towards the entrance.

“Oh shit, you guys are Alpha Strike!” The guard said, looking quite fanboyishly at the group.

“Keep your pants dry, we’re just here to investigate this 016 breach,” Nikole said.

Triana rolled her eyes at the drunk’s antics. “Is there anything you can tell us?”

“I mean, this guy in a suit and fedora came in about a day before the breach, but that’s about it,” The guard shrugged.

“A suit and…” Nikole looked deep in thought.

“Anything else?” Triana asked.

“Nothing that I know man, good luck on your mission!” The guard said as Triana thanked him and ordered the team inside the building.

“Oh uh, order us a pizza,” Cory asked the guard just before he marched into the building with the rest of his team. “I’m kinda hungry,”

“Yessir!”

They entered the first room, large and circular with one door leading to the D Class Cells, another leading to the general Staff area, and the last one leading to 016’s Containment Chamber. They moved east towards it before-

“Help, help me!” A scientist gasped as he came crawling out of the Containment Chamber. “They… they’re all infected in there!”

“That’s why we’re here, sir,”

“Oh thank God, please, please get me out of here, PLEASE!” He yelled that last part, making Cory jump back a little.

“Don’t worry, we’re gonna-”

BANG Cory was interrupted.

Interrupted by Nikole’s revolver shooting a bullet straight into the head of the scientist, Cory, along with the rest of the team barring Triana looked directly at Nikole with looks that ranged from confusion to horror on Cory’s end.

“What the fuck? Nik-”

“He was infected,” Nikole finally let out a breath. “He was infected, fucker was bleeding from the mouth,”

Cory looked at the corpse, he was.

“Sign of Infection,” O’Connor bent down and tapped the corpse with her gloved hand. “Quite good thinking, Miss. Kaminski, let’s keep moving,”

“Yes, I’m glad you were able to make the right decision, Nikole,” Triana congratulated as the team moved into the containment hallway.

Cory still looked blankly at the floor, he still moved, silently though. Hooper’s face flashed a look of concern before going back to his stoicism.

Scott patted Cory on the back to get his attention. “Hey man, she did what she had to do,”

“I know, just a bit shook is all,” Cory breathed out.

“Alright, just get through this mission, alright dude?”

Cory nodded and looked around the hallway they were looking through.

Bodies, so many bodies: bleeding from every orifice possible, some missing body parts and most disturbingly of all; some with brand new ones.

Cory counted one with a third arm, a third leg, seven eyes, and so many more that thinking about it made him vomit.

“Jesus Christ!” Hooper shouted. “What in the goddamn happened here?”

“Nothing I like,” Triana grunted.

Nikole shivered. “Okay I feel less bad about shooting that guy back there, he was gonna go through a lot worse,”

“Even I’ve lost my appetite,” Scott chuckled, not really helping in lighting the mood all that much.

“I am so glad I can’t see this, you don’t even understand,” Lara said. “No signs of life near you, by the way,”

“Thanks for the update, Bluejay,” Triana said.

As opposed to the reactions of Alpha Strike, O’Connor looked lost in thought as usual, inspecting each of the corpses not with fear or disgust, or anger, but mere curiosity. “How was the security on this site?”

“From what I heard it was some of the best,” Lara said. “So that means that the Site Director was either lying, or-”

“This was done on purpose, I can’t say that for sure, but it’s my top theory,” O’Connor said as the moved into 016’s Containment Room.

The room was completely trashed, the room was warm and humid, papers and bodies, mainly of Mobile Task Force Agents were scattered throughout the room; each body was mutilated and most terrifying of all, modified extra eyes, extra arms, gills on the neck and sometimes the chest, one of them even had the appearance of a spider, covered in hair with six extra legs sticking out of his abdomen.

Cory swallowed down the vomit that threatened to come through, the rest of the team looked on in a combined look of horror and shock, even Triana looked like she was about to faint again.

“You guys all went silent, what happened?” Lara asked.

Triana shook it off. “We’re fine, there’s just-”

“MTF,” O’Connor commented, even her voice was a tad shaky at the scene in front of them. “Collect those documents, I’ll investigate these corpses,”

Triana cleared her throat. “You heard the woman, get collecting,”

For some reason, this felt weirdly familiar to Cory, probably nothing.

They scrounged around, slowly investigating the place for documents until Cory found-

“Test log…” He said as he picked up the group of documents off of the floor.

“What?” O’Connor said as she walked over to Cory. “Give me those,”

Cory handed her the pieces of paper, O’Connor’s eyes widened in shock. “Testing logs… a couple days ago,” She mumbled, the smallest hint of shock in her normally toneless voice.

“Who? Who oversaw them?” Triana butted in. Her anger contrasted with O’Connor’s shock, the Detective silently read the papers, rushing through them to look for a name… she found one at the bottom of the final page.

Karl Otis

“Otis? Otis ran these tests?” Triana looked absolutely pissed. “On our own men?”

“That son of a bitch!” Hooper sounded angrier. “We gotta bring this up to Flooper,”

Nikole and Scott gave similar reactions of shock and anger. Cory counted the pockets on each of his team’s uniforms in his head, completely frozen in shock.

“Well that completes my work here,” O’Connor said. “Let’s get going,”

“Yeah I’ve got a lot of talking to do,” Triana grumbled. “Let’s go gas this place,”

“Right, that’s a step in this,” Scott kicked the ground. “Kinda fucked,”

“Trust me, it’ll be better than letting everyone slowly die from 016 in here,” She said as she walked over to a keycard reader on the far wall. She pulled her keycard from her pocket and slid it, fast and rough enough to nearly break it, it beeped as the input went through.

“You got 90 seconds, get outta there now,” Lara said.

The rest of the team quickly ran out of the facility, except Hooper who noticed that.

“Cory!” He yelled out to the man, still frozen in shock.

“Hooper, hurry up!” Lara said over the radio. “Just drag him,”

“Yes ma’am!” Hooper affirmed as he grabbed his wrist, practically dragging the frozen Cory out of the facility.

Cory shook his head as he was halfway down the first hallway they had went down. “Hoop! What’s happening?”

“We’re leavin’, whole site is bein’ gassed,”

“What?”

Hooper threw the man out of the front gate as he got there, Cory landed face first at the feet of Triana. Hooper followed quickly behind him.

“Cory! What the hell happened back there?”

“I-I dunno I just froze up!” Cory squeaked as he pushed himself up from the ground. “I guess seeing what Otis had done just kinda…”

“We’re all pretty fucked up after seeing that,” Scott reassured. “Even frumpy over here,” He chuckled as he pointed to the Detective, who rolled her eyes in response as the team began to walk out of the facility, through the gate.

“Yo, I got your pizza!” The gate guard said, Cory smiled as he grabbed it out of the man’s hand.

“Cory, did you order a fucken’ pizza?” Hooper raised an eyebrow, still invisible under the helmet he was wearing. Cory wondered what his face looked like under it as he slammed the slice onto the front of his helmet… before realising that he was still wearing it and looking down in sadness.

“Yeah, I was hungry…” He pouted.

---

Triana calmly walked into General Flooper’s office, rather modest for the role he had with few things beyond the essential cabinets, tables and chairs within it.

“Hey there Lieutenant, you wanted to talk to me?”

“Yes, on our mission to Site 016 we found something,” Triana placed the documents on the table between them.

“What are-”

“Test logs, Professor Otis was performing tests on 016 in order to create super soldiers,” Triana said, her face briefly scrunching in anger as she spoke. “He’s not working in the interest of The Foundation, we need to-”

“From what I see,” The man interrupted as he read the documents. “He was doing this to help The Foundation more easily contain threats; I don’t see anythin’ wrong with it,”

“We aren’t meant to abuse Skips for power, sir,” Triana gritted her teeth. “If we keep letting him get away with this-”

“Away with what? Tryin’ to help out The Foundation!” Flooper raised his voice. “We ain’t gonna be talkin’ about this no more,”

“But-”

“I said leave!”

Triana clenched her fists, ready to punch this… heartless, Otis sucking fucker in the face until.

She sighed, leaving the room in defeat.

[sheena-is-a-punk-rocker]

Being sick sucks, but at least it involves matzo ball soup

Just a super fluffy quinnflag sick fic for y’all! 

Rick wakes up to the sound of Harley hacking up a lung beside him.

“If you're gonna die, please do it quieter,” he mumbles, still half asleep.

It's at this point where Harley would normally punch him and tell him to fuck off but instead she sniffs and says pathetically, “I don't feel good.”

That makes him pause. When Harley's sick she never admits it. Instead she powers through it and acts like everything is completely normal. That tells him this isn't an everyday run of the mill cold.

“You okay, Harls?” he asks, suddenly concerned.

“No!” she complains, before having another coughing fit. She sounds congested and miserable. “I feel like I'm gonna puke.”

He reaches over to feel her forehead. She's burning up. He makes a move to get out of bed but she reaches a hand out to stop him.

“Don't go!” she whines.

“You've got a fever, Harls. I'll be right back.”

She reluctantly lets go of him and he makes his way to the medicine cabinet. As he rummages around for the Tylenol he makes a mental checklist of what he'll need to keep her comfortable.

When he gets back he finds that Harley has stolen his spot on the bed and cocooned herself in the blankets. She reaches a hand out from the pile. “Snuggle with me.”

“Harls, you're gonna overheat.”

“Nah, I'm freezing. And besides, I missed ya.”

“I was only gone for five minutes,” he reminds her with a chuckle, as he slips under the mountain of blankets with her.

He hands her two pills and gets her to sit up enough for her to take them with the glass of water he has ready. Once that's done she lays back down and curls up against his side—legs tangling with his and one arm thrown across his chest. He wraps an arm around her and pulls her close.

He immediately starts sweating. He's already a human space heater, according to Harley, and they're covered in at least three blankets. He can't help but hope she falls asleep so he can escape. Luckily it doesn't take long.

Once Harley is snoring away softly, Rick tries to carefully extricate himself from the tangle of blankets and limbs. He doesn't get very far before Harley is tightening her grip around his waist.

“Where're ya goin'?” she whines, still half asleep.

“I was gonna go get you food,” he admits. “And some other essentials.”

She perks up. “Oooh, can ya get me an egg sandwich?”

He sighs. “Harls, you literally just told me you feel like you're gonna puke. You're not getting an egg sandwich.”

She huffs and tightens her grip on him further. “Fine, then ya can't leave.”

He chuckles softly. “I was going to get you some matzo ball soup from that Jewish deli you're obsessed with but if you don't want that...”

She peeks up at him. “The one down the street?”

“That's the one.”

She thinks for a minute before loosening her hold on him. “Okay, fine, you can go. But ya better bring me back a knish while you're out.”

“Matzo ball soup and a knish, got it,” he says as he slips out of bed and goes to the dresser to find a shirt to wear.

As he's pulling the garment over his head he hears Harley tsk and say, “Ya know, it really should be illegal for you to have to wear a shirt.”

He blushes but doesn't respond. Before he heads out he goes back to the bed so he can kiss her forehead. As he's leaning down, she suddenly grabs him by the shirt and pulls him towards her to give him a proper kiss. He dodges it at the last second.

She pouts. “Aww, I can't even get a kiss before ya leave?”

He kisses her forehead. “Normally, yes, but you don't want both of us to be sick, do you?”

Harley just grumbles in response and rolls over—burrowing further under the mountain of blankets.

------

Rick's back an hour and a half later with Harley's soup and knish (that the owner—a little old Jewish grandma—had thrown in for free). He makes his way to the kitchen and puts the soup in a bowl before carrying it to the bedroom.

He stifles a laugh at the sight that greets him. The medicine has obviously kicked in because Harley's kicked off all the blankets. She's sprawled out on the bed and her hair is a sweaty mess.

He sets the bowl of soup on the nightstand and shakes her gently.

She rolls over with a groan and says, “I feel gross.”

He reaches over to feel her forehead. Her skin feels clammy and cold.

“Want me to run you a bath?” he asks.

She perks up. “You'd do that?”

“Of course, Harls.” He gets up from the bed and tells her, “Eat your soup.”

He's just getting the bath started when he hears a loud “Fuck!” coming from the bedroom.

He rolls his eyes and calls back, “Did you burn your mouth?”

There's silence for several seconds before Harley answers back, “Maybe.”

She's done with her soup by the time he comes back to the bedroom to take her to the bath. He grabs the bowl and sets it aside before moving to scoop her up so he can carry her.

She shoves him away and insists, “I can do it myself!”

She gets herself out of bed and then promptly stumbles and runs into his chest. He laughs and holds her close. “Feeling dizzy?”

She pouts but admits, “Maybe a little.”

She lets him pick her up this time without protest.

They're halfway to the bathroom when Harley suddenly grabs his chin and squints. And then starts cackling once she sees the lipstick stain that's been left on his cheek.

He sighs. “Bubbie says hi.”

Bubbie is the little Jewish grandma who runs the deli. She's basically adopted Harley and they both highly suspect she's punched at least two Nazis based on the way she runs her restaurant.

He sets her on her feet once they reach the bathroom and starts helping her undress.

“Couldn't wait to get me naked, could ya?” she flirts, as he's on his knees helping her out of her underwear.

He rolls his eyes and shakes his head but doesn't respond. He presses his lips to her bare stomach before standing back up.

She rolls up on her toes and leans against his chest. His hands automatically go to her waist. He notices the mischievous glint in her eye and knows exactly what's going through her head. She goes in for a kiss and he turns his head so her lips catch his cheek instead.

“Aww, still no kiss?” she complains.

He kisses her nose. “Not while you're still sick.”

“But I'm horny!” she whines.

He snorts. “Harley, you can't even stand up on your own right now.”

She just pouts in response.

He sighs and points to the bathtub. She takes the hint and carefully steps over the edge and lowers herself into the water. She immediately lets out a content sigh.

“Better?” he asks.

“Much better!”

She lays back to get her hair wet and then reaches for the shampoo. He grabs it before she can and says, “Want some help?”

She nods in response and he squirts some soap into his hands. She moans softly as his nails scratch her scalp. Once he's done lathering, he urges her to lay back so she can rinse it out. He does the same thing with her conditioner and then they just sit there in comfortable silence.

He notices the mischievous look on her face too late. Before he can react, Harley's grabbing the front of his shirt and pulling him into a sloppy kiss.

Rick doesn't pull away immediately—he's missed kissing her as much as she has, after all. But eventually his brain catches up to his body and he breaks the kiss.

“Harley, what the fuck?” he protests.

She rolls her eyes and laughs. “Calm your tits, you'll be fine!”

He can't help but be skeptical as her laughter morphs into a coughing fit.

He grumbles and takes his wet shirt off. Harley's breath hitches and she says, “It's not fair how jacked ya are! How's a girl supposed to focus when she's got this to look at?” She gestures to his torso.

He blushes, still not quite used to her comments about his body. As she once told him, he “doesn't know he's hot.” Before he can respond, she adds, “I wanna climb ya like a fuckin' tree.”

He gets an idea—he's decided he needs to get back at her for that surprise kiss. He smirks and dips his hand into the water and settles it on her thigh. As he trails his fingers higher, he rasps in her ear, “And you'll get the opportunity to do just that real soon.” She bites her lip and tips her head back—he's so close to where she wants him. She lets out a whine as his hand suddenly disappears. “But,” he continues, “not until you're better.”

He laughs at the glare Harley shoots his way, along with a middle finger. He kisses her forehead and asks, “Ready to get out of the tub?”

She nods and he reaches over to grab a towel. He helps her stand and once she steps out of the tub he wraps her in a towel. She lets out a yawn and leans against his chest as he dries her off. Once her hair is toweled off, he wraps her up and scoops her into his arms. She's practically asleep again by the time they reach the bedroom.

He sets her down on the bed and goes to the dresser to find one of his shirts for her to wear. He makes her take some cold medicine and then he's ushering her under the covers. He goes back to the bathroom to clean up and when he comes back, Harley is cocooned under a (much more reasonable) single blanket, fast asleep.

She stirs as he slides under the covers with her. He curls up behind her and says, “It's just me, Harls. Go back to sleep.”

---------

They spend the next two days like that—curled up in bed together, with Rick only leaving to get her food and medicine.

On day three, Rick wakes up feeling like he's been hit by a truck. As he hacks up a lung he glares at Harley, who's looking extremely guilty.

“Sorry?” she offers.

He gives her a middle finger in response.

“Well,” he rasps, “looks like we're both useless now.”

Harley perks up. “Movie date on the couch?”

He can't help but smile. He can never stay mad at her for long. “Movie date sounds great.”

He helps her gather up the blankets to take out to the living room. He parks his ass on the couch and wraps himself in a comforter while she gets a movie started. He holds his arm out and envelopes her in the blanket with him once she joins him on the couch.

They're both asleep before the opening credits roll.

[collectivesigh]

The Ghost of Ketterdam - Prologue | Kaz Brekker

fem!oc x kaz brekker - 1.5k words

series warnings: cannon-typical use of violence, sexual assault

chapter warnings: crude language from gross men, bit of violence, reference to sexual abuse

summary: The Ghost of Ketterdam is the most feared woman in Kerch, but what happens when she gets tangled up in the world of the infamous Dirtyhands? Haunted by a dark past and thrown into a bloody gang war, the Ghost must fight to stay alive and protect those she cares about and get revenge on those who hurt her.  

next part

A/N: hi guys! I’m starting a fem!oc x kaz series, but it can also be read as a x reader if you like! the only physical descriptions I’m including is the MC has silver/white hair (think daenerys targaryen from GTO) and a scar or two. she also has a name, but that’s as easily replaceable as y/n and less annoying to read haha. other than that I’ll be keeping descriptions to a minimum! not sure how long its gonna be but I’m pretty excited! I’ll probably be posting this on AO3 and wattpad too. lemme know what y’all think :)

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As the Ghost of Ketterdam walked onto the main street in the West Stave, the air became thick. Every local turned to look before quickly glancing away, continuing with their business and hoping to not be noticed. Tourists glanced in curiosity at the woman who had caused such a change in the crowd before chittering on, drunk on wine and the adrenaline of gambling. The men surrounding the White Rose created space for her as she stepped up to its door, clearly on a mission. The smart ones sensed the power she radiated and the effect she had on the bouncers at the door and stayed quiet. The dumb ones, however, were not so observant.

“Hey, beautiful, what’re you goin’ to a whorehouse for when I can fuck ya real good for free!” one man called after her, drunk and stinking of piss. Ghost stilled halfway through the door, feeling the low burn of rage in the pit of her stomach. The workers’ eyes widened in fear, already knowing the kind of treatment perverted men received from the Ghost of Ketterdam. As she turned, the catcaller’s friend grabbed his collar, urging him to leave and find a different brothel. 

“No, no,” Ghost said with a sickeningly sweet smile, “stay, your friend is right.”

“See! What’d I tell ya! Pretty girls like ‘er can smell a good fuck from a mile away,” the man  said while providing suggestive wink to his friend. Ghost scoffed internally. This man wouldn’t know a good fuck if it punched him in the face. He waltzed up to Ghost and touched a lock of her white hair with his hand. Ghost tried not to gag at his smell. “What’s your name, sweetheart?” Ghost smiled as she took his hand in hers. Why is his hand wet? she thought. In the blink of an eye, she wrenched the man’s hand downwards, breaking his wrist, before delivering a brutal kick to the side of his knee. The man fell to the cobblestone street with a crunch, screaming out in pain. Ghost, still standing, grabbed the man’s hair and yanked his head backward so that his gaze met hers.  

“I’m the Ghost of Ketterdam,” she said, “and no man touches me.” She wrenched his head back further, causing the man to cry out once again.

“I- I’m sorry, I didn’t know! Honest!” 

“I don’t care. Now beg.”

“I- What?”

“I said, beg for your life,” Ghost almost whispered, yet her words were still heard by every man outside the White Rose. 

“Please! Please, I didn’t know, please don’t hurt me! Let me live, please!” The man was crying by now, practically on his hands and knees. Pathetic. Ghost released the man’s hair, freeing him to collapse on the street curled up around his broken wrist and dislocated knee. Without another word, she turned and slid through the door of the White Rose, disappearing as if she was never even there. 

She walked through the halls of the White Rose, knowing exactly where she was going. She pushed a set of double doors emblazoned with roses open, revealing one of the most indulgent  rooms she had ever seen: silk curtains over the windows, a complex handpainted pattern on the walls, velvet furniture, a chandelier that sparkled under candlelight, all layered under the overwhelming scent of roses. Every surface was stark white in an attempt to portray a classic and expensive atmosphere. To Ghost, it felt sterile and tacky.  

“Ah, Ghost! I hope you’re not scaring off my customers again,” Onkle Felix greeted as he rose from his ivory desk. 

“Only the ones who touch me,” Ghost said with a fake smile. Felix forced out a good-natured chuckle, unwilling to get on the Ghost’s bad side. 

“Wait right here, I will send for the girl,” he said before he swept out of the room. Immediately, Ghost got to work, opening a desk drawer and quickly scanning a slew of papers. It was amazing how stupid rich men could be, leaving her alone in his office. She opened another drawer, flipping through a few books, searching for any useful information. Hearing, loud footsteps, she quickly reset the drawers and slid back into her original spot, pretending to admire one of the marble busts. 

“Ah, a beautiful piece isn’t it! Had it shipped all the way from Novyi Zem!” Felix bragged as he reentered the room with a young girl in tow. Ghost stayed silent, much to his chagrin. The girl he brought in was terrified, visibly shaking and refused to look Ghost in the eye. “Here she is! Still not entirely sure why you took such an interest in this one, but who am I to say no to a pile of kruge!” Onkle Felix laughed, pushing the girl forward like she was a cow going to slaughter. Ghost examined the girl more closely, feeling a twist of empathy in her stomach. She looked to be only twelve or so years old. Ghost decided then and there that she would make the people who hurt this girl, this child, pay. Her complexion was dark, but she was visibly blanched, lacking the typical vibrancy and life of a healthy girl. Her fingernails were bitten down to the quick and the dark circles under her eyes indicated she probably had not slept much since arriving at the White Rose. Ghost pushed down her anger, knowing that gutting the brothel owner where he stood was not a good solution. Besides, she wouldn’t want to stain the perfectly white carpet, now would she?

Ghost said nothing, simply handing Felix a stack of kruge. She beckoned to the young girl to follow her, not wanting to touch the girl knowing the abuse she had endured at the brothel likely made her wary to touch. Once outside, Ghost found a quieter street, somewhere between the West Stave and the Barrel. She turned and knelt down in front of the young girl, giving her a smile that was small, but genuine. She noticed the girl was shivering from the damp cold, still only wearing the thin robes signature to the White Rose. Ghost took off her coat and held it out to the girl.

“Go on,” she urged, “you’re freezing.” The girl cautiously took the coat and wrapped it around herself, visibly relaxing a bit at the warmth.  “Good. What’s your name?”

“Zya,” the girl whispered softly.

“Nice to meet you, Zya. I’m Maeve, but people usually call me Ghost,” Ghost said gently. “I don’t know what Felix told you, but I’m not paying off your indenture to sell you to another brothel. I paid off your indenture to set you free.” Zya looked skeptical, having learned not to trust people over the few months she had been at the White Rose. 

“What’s the catch?” Zya questioned, immediately on the defensive. 

“No catch. I find powerless girls, set them free, and teach them how to become powerful. I have a house near the Barrel with a dozen other girls who were in the same position you were. They have a bed and food and a warm fire. Most importantly, I never force anyone to do anything they don’t want to do. You can turn around and walk away if you want, I won’t stop you and I won’t try to catch you. But, if you want, you can come with me and I can help you,” Maeve spoke strongly and firmly. It was always difficult to earn the girls’ trust at first, especially after they had been abused or abandoned for so long, but she had never had one turn her down. They always came home with her, let her feed them, clothe them, and protect them. It was Maeve’s life mission and she would stop at nothing to see her girls safe.  

“Why? Why do all this?” Zya asked, visibly pained at the idea of a safe place, a home. 

“Because I was once like you, capable and strong but powerless. Controlled by men who viewed me as a commodity and not a person. Now, I’m capable and strong and powerful, and it’s my responsibility to protect those who cannot protect themselves.” Maeve looked Zya in the eyes, doing her best to communicate her sincerity. After a long pause, Zya gave a tiny nod. Smiling to herself, Maeve stood. Zya grabbed her hand quickly, surprising Maeve as she led them through the alleyways to the Barrel. To safety.

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As the Wraith watched from a distance, not quite able to make out the Ghost’s conversation, she was overcome with a mix of anxiety and hope. She feared for the young girl, knowing the Ghost’s reputation and the vulnerability of indentured girls. On the other hand, the Ghost had given the girl her coat and held her hand. Those were the actions of someone who cared, not someone seeking a profit. Her heart ached as she thought of her family, of the touch of a mother that can never quite be replicated. She glanced up to the sky with sad eyes for a brief moment before leaping across the roofs of Ketterdam, returning to Kaz to inform him that the Ghost of Ketterdam may, in fact, have a soul after all.  

[homoose]

Love Has a Learning Curve: Part VII (x reader)

Summary: Reader tries to make things right, with a little push from her mama.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: hurt/comfort

Warnings/Includes: none

a/n: I know, I know— please just let our babies be happy ♥️ and so it was. Also, big ups to my tumblr gf @idmakeitbehave​ for being my beta the past two chapters.

Series Masterlist

———

One week.

That’s how long it had been since their argument. Spencer had driven back to his apartment in silence, absolutely stunned by the way things had blown up.

They’d gotten back from the case in Utah on the fifth of January, and he’d driven straight to Y/N’s, ready to give her a belated New Year’s kiss. Immediately upon entering her apartment, he knew something was wrong. Her hug was stiff, her kiss brief, her eye contact minimal. He’d spent the night, but they barely touched, and she left early for work without waking him. He’d let himself out and texted her later in the day to invite her over for dinner.

Dinner hadn’t been any less awkward, and when he felt awkward, he knew it was bad. He finally couldn’t ignore it any longer, and he’d called it out. He had expected some resistance, but he hadn’t expected that. Y/N never spoke to him with any malice at all, even when he was actually doing something that irritated her. She was the queen of healthy communication. So for her to speak to him like that meant that the underlying issue was much, much worse than he’d originally thought.

He’d gone over their conversations a thousand times, looking desperately for the moment that it went wrong. After some deep consideration, he was certain that something had happened on New Year’s Eve. He just wasn’t sure what. Y/N was insistent that she wasn’t bothered by the declined call, but he still wished he could go back in time and answer it. He was pretty sure the seeds of their argument had sprouted in that moment, regardless of what she said.

Spencer knew she was a creature of habit, and that sometimes she needed space to process and experience her emotions. And if he was being honest, he needed some space after the argument, too. But usually she would have at least texted him by now.

He sighed and set down his newspaper, realizing he’d read the same page four times and hadn’t retained any of it. It was Friday, and he knew she was working. But still his fingers itched to dial her number. He picked up the phone, pressing a key to light up the screen yet again.

No new messages.

He dropped the phone back to the table with a little more force than was necessary. He decided he’d give her the rest of the weekend. If he didn’t hear from her by Sunday, he’d have to do something.

…

Y/N dropped her bag on the floor inside the door and turned to lock the deadbolt. She had managed to sneak out of the building without being stopped by Anita, and she thanked the universe for small miracles.

She didn’t want to have to explain herself. She didn’t want anyone to know what an absolute troll she’d been. Considering that Sam and Spencer had practically become attached at the hip since they’d started hanging out more, Anita was bound to ask about him.

She showered and ordered Thai food, snuggling down on the couch to watch a movie with Roald. She settled on Dumplin’— a favorite for the body positivity, the southern drawls, and the Dolly Parton drag.

And then she came to the argument outside of Harpy’s and lost what little emotional stability she had left.

“Never took you for the type that cares much what people think.”

“I can’t, Bo. And that might make me a coward, but—”

“It does. Willowdean Dixon, I think you’re beautiful. To hell with anyone who’s ever made you feel less than that.”

She didn’t realize she was crying until Roald meowed in distress. She choked out a sob and stroked over his ears, closing her eyes in defeat. “I really fucked this up, huh?”

It had only been one week, but it felt like years since Spencer walked out of her apartment. She’d stayed in bed for the entire weekend, crying on and off. She knew she had no one to blame but herself. Owen had knocked over the first domino, but she’d done nothing to stop the rest from falling.

Spencer had done everything right. He’d done everything she asked, and she’d thrown it all back in his face. He had made the comparison to Mitchell Park, and he was absolutely right. She’d done the exact same thing, only she had almost a year’s worth of ammunition, and she cut a hell of a lot deeper.

Roald nuzzled against her, but she nudged him away— she didn’t even deserve the comfort. Instead, she fumbled in the couch cushions for her phone, swiping open the screen and tapping her favorites list, thumb hovering over Spencer’s name. Then she tapped on the name right above it and blew out a breath.

The line connected and rang three times before she picked up. “Hey, sugar! Your ears must be ringin’, ‘cause I was just thinkin’ about callin’ you.”

“Hey, mama,” Y/N breathed.

Her mother’s tone changed from chipper to concerned in an instant. “What’s wrong, baby?”

She leaned forward to the coffee table to grab Spencer’s scarf— somehow left behind in her apartment— rubbing it between her fingers. “I— I really messed up.”

“Oh, Lord. You need bail money?”

Despite herself, Y/N laughed wetly. “Oh my god , mama. No, I don’t need bail money.”

“Well, if you made bail it can’t be that bad,” Rose insisted.

“I didn’t— I’m not in jail, for Christ’s sake.” Y/N ran a hand over her face. “I messed things up with Spencer.”

“Well, we can fix that,” Rose responded matter of factly. “What happened?”

“We were fighting, and I said some really, really awful things,” Y/N admitted, tears spilling over her lash line.

Rose scoffed. “Honey, I say awful things to your father all the time, and we’ve been married almost 40 years.”

Y/N heaved a long sigh. “Not like this, mama.”

Her mother hummed in consideration. “Well, what were y’all fightin’ about?”

“It’s complicated,” Y/N hedged, toying with the fringe of the scarf.

Rose clicked her tongue. “Do ya want my help or not?”

Y/N dropped her head back against the couch. “I ran into Owen on New Year’s Eve—”

“Well, I hope you told him to stick it where the sun don’t shine,” Rose practically growled.

Y/N closed her eyes as the tears tracked hot down her cheeks. “I didn’t. I— I let him get under my skin, and then I didn’t want to tell Spencer about it because it’s embarrassing, but he knew something was wrong, and he wouldn’t stop asking about it.” She had to pause and suck in a hiccuping breath, releasing it on a sob. “So I yelled at him and said all kinds of terrible things, and then he left, and now I think maybe we broke up, and I’ve literally never been so sad in my whole life.”

There was a long pause on the other end of the phone, and then she heard Rose sniffling. “Really shoulda had your brothers knock the mess out of that son of bitch when we had the chance. He's been gone five years, and he’s still hurtin’ you every chance he gets.”

Y/N swiped uselessly at the tear tracks on her cheeks, sniffling pathetically. “And now I hurt the person who’s spent the last year singlehandedly undoing all of his awful handiwork.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Rose cooed. Y/N could hear the creak of the floorboards as her mother walked through her childhood home. “You said he knew somethin’ was wrong, right? I can almost guarantee that he’s still just wonderin’ what’s goin’ on. I know he’s supposed to be a genius, but he’s still a man. And men are dumb, sugar. You gotta spell it out for ‘em. Have you talked to him since?”

“No.” Fresh tears spilled over Y/N’s lashes as the thoughts that had kept her from calling him spilled out of her mouth. “What if it was too far? What if I ruined everything? What if he never wants to speak to me again?”

Ross heaved out a long breath. “That’s a lot of what ifs, Y/N.”

“What if I’m right?” she whispered.

“And what if you’re not?” Rose countered. “That boy loves you. Anyone could see that, clear as day. He’d do just about anything for you.” Rose paused, and Y/N heard the springs of the bed squeak as she sat. “But you gotta let him, sweetheart. Right now you’re takin’ away his chance to do that. You’re makin’ the decision for him.”

Y/N listened as her mother’s advice crackled over the line, and for the first time in a week, she felt a tiny sliver of hope.

“If he doesn’t want to be with you anymore, you need to let him tell you that. Don’t settle for a what if. Find out for sure, or you're gonna spend the rest of your life worryin’ and wonderin’, sugar.”

…

That evening found Spencer in his usual spot on the couch, reclined against the arm with a book in hand. He’d promised himself he’d give Y/N the weekend to herself— that he’d let her come to him. That didn’t stop him from checking his phone obsessively; it never buzzed with any new calls or messages, but he still looked every seven minutes.

The sound of the buzzer jolted his body to attention. He checked his watch and drew his brows together before closing his book and scrambling to cross to the intercom, a tiny seed of hope beginning to germinate. He pressed the button to talk, calling, “Yes?” into the speaker box and then listening for the response.

“Hi.”

Her voice was so quiet that he could barely hear it over the crackle of the speaker. He buzzed her in without hesitation, crossing to the door and opening it immediately. She made her way slowly up the stairs, turning at the top of the landing and pausing.

His heart broke at the sight of her. She looked utterly exhausted, dressed in black sweatpants and a soft purple sweater, a black puffer jacket over top. She was holding his scarf, wringing it in between her hands. Her eyes were ringed red, and the bags under them were worse than his.

He watched as she crossed the landing, coming to stand quietly in front of him. He’d known something was wrong, but the way she looked now made him wonder just how long she’d been battling whatever private demons she wouldn’t let him in on.

“I, um.” She cleared her throat, and it was clear she’d been crying from the thickness of her voice. “I have a lot to say— again. But since I was such an asshole, I wanted to give you the opportunity to say anything you need to say first.”

He’d imagined this conversation countless times over the last week, and never once had he thought it would start like this. “Um. Well. You— you really hurt me.”

She could barely look at him. “I know.”

He swallowed. “Please don’t do that again.”

She shook her head, finally meeting his eyes. “I won’t. I won’t ever again.”

Spencer tucked his hands into the pockets of his lounge pants. “I know I may not be the best at social cues, but I’m a pretty good profiler. And I can tell when something’s wrong.” He raised his eyebrows. “You don’t have to tell me everything. I’m just asking you to tell me when I do something that makes you upset.”

“You— you didn’t do anything wrong. I—” He watched her squeeze her eyes shut. “God, I’m so sorry, Spencer. I’m just— I’m sorry for so many things. For lying about being fine, for being up on my high horse about communicating and then not actually doing it, for being an absolute bitch.”

He wanted to argue— she wasn’t a bitch— but he could tell she was far from done.

“I— I thought therapy was supposed to teach me how to talk about things, but this still feels… impossible to say out loud,” she admitted, fingers fumbling with the fabric of the scarf. “It’s embarrassing and ridiculous. But I— I have deep-seated insecurities. That I’m not really that smart or interesting or particularly special.”

He thought back to that night in Mitchell Park and felt the guilt all over again. He’d practically said those exact words to her— it was no wonder she was feeling this way.

“And every person that I’ve ever been with has— really reinforced those ideas, so for a long time they were just… a set part of my self-image,” she explained, dragging a hand over her messy hair. “I thought— I thought that I was over it, but I— I don’t know. Maybe you never really are.”

His brain sorted through every moment of their year together, pinging off the countless examples of her self-doubt and insecurity. She was easily the most wonderful person he knew, but he could clearly see the cracks in the facade if he looked close enough. How had he missed it for so long?

“And then I met you, and you…” Y/N let out a wry laugh. “You’re easily the most interesting person I’ve ever met, but you made me feel like… I don’t know, like I’m interesting, too. Like I’m worthy of being with you, like I’m— like I’m good enough.”

He felt his heart splintering into a thousand tiny shards— good enough?

“But I can’t— I still have a hard time believing it sometimes. And I— I’ve been letting myself keep you at arms length. Letting you see parts of me, but… never giving you everything,” she admitted.

He watched her struggle to get the words out, her voice thick with the act of holding back sobs. He hadn’t realized she was carrying all of this. She was so good at supporting him and loving him through all of his trauma and issues, he hadn’t stopped to consider just how much she needed him, too.

She continued, “It’s why I took so long to say I love you… why I couldn’t talk to you last week. Because I just—” She shrugged as the tears rolled down her cheeks. “I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop. For you to realize that I’m really nothing special. That you’re getting bored, or there’s someone who’s a better fit for you, or one million other things. That I’m needy, and annoying, and too much work.”

A fresh tear tracked down her cheek, and he felt his own eyes filling. She never failed to put a stop to his own insecurities— reminding him that she liked his rambling, that he wasn’t irritating, that he was just the right amount. In his eyes, she was perfect. He would have never guessed she felt this way about herself.

She continued, “That’s what happened before, and none of those guys were even half as wonderful as you are.” She swiped a hand haphazardly over her cheeks, looking at him sheepishly. “And then I was hurtful and awful, and I realized that I was just creating a self fulfilling prophecy and I don’t— I don’t want to do that.”

Her hand shook a little as she brought it back down to twist in his scarf. “Because it’s never— I’ve never felt like this. I've never been this happy with anyone else, and I don’t want to give that up. I don’t want to give you up. Even if sometimes I feel like I’ll never be enough.”

Her voice cracked on a stifled cry, and his chest physically ached. “And if you never want to see me again, I completely understand, and I’ll leave you alone, but I— I’m just so sorry. And I love you so much, and I’m trying so hard to be better.” She sucked in a ragged breath and let it out on an exhausted sigh. “And that’s, um— that’s it. If you want me to go, I—”

“I don’t want you to go,” he interrupted.

Her eyes went wide. “You don’t?”

“Of course not.” Spencer stepped forward and reached for her. “Of course not. C’mere.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, she was tumbling into his arms with a choked off sob. He pulled her inside and closed the door behind them, walking her to the couch and sitting them both down. She clung to him like she was afraid he’d disappear into thin air.

“Y/N, I’m right here,” he assured her. “I’m right here, baby. I’m not going anywhere.”

“But if you n-need space, I understand,” she sobbed.

“I appreciate the offer, but I don’t need space. I think a week was long enough, don’t you?” he asked, pressing a kiss into her hair.

She pulled back out of the hug, head down. “But I really hurt you.”

He held her hand. “Yeah. And I really hurt you, too.”

She huffed out a breath. “That’s not how this works. I don’t get to hurt you just because you hurt me.”

“I know that.” He almost laughed at how indignant she sounded. “I’m not saying that we should hurt each other. I’m saying that sometimes it happens. And when it does, we apologize, and we forgive, and we move forward. And it’s okay if you need space. But I don’t.”

“What if you change your mind?” she whispered.

“Then I promise I’ll tell you.” Spencer tilted her chin up so he could meet her eyes. “I promise I’ll tell you what I need, as long as you tell me, too. We’ve gotta use all those communication skills we learn in therapy.”

Y/N nodded, and he pulled her into another hug. He closed his eyes, letting out a sigh of relief. “If I hadn’t heard from you by Sunday, I was planning to bother you until you talked to me.”

He could feel the beginning of a smile turning up the corner of her mouth where it was pressed to his shoulder. “You never bother me,” she mumbled. She held him for a moment longer and then released him from the hug and sat back, fidgeting with her hands and letting out a breath.

“Sometimes I need to be told that my worst fears about myself aren’t true,” she admitted. “I know that’s so annoying, but—”

“It’s not annoying,” he interrupted, putting an immediate stop to that line of thought. “Telling you how amazing you are isn’t the chore that you think it is. I’m sorry that anyone ever convinced you that it was.”

He covered her hands with his own, rubbing his thumbs softly along her skin. He couldn’t stop thinking about her dealing with all of this by herself. He hated that she’d ever felt anything less than adored. More than anything, he hated that he hadn’t been able to help her through it. And he wanted to make sure that he never made that mistake again.

“A wise man told me once... that love is helping someone navigate their storms,” he murmured, squeezing her hand. She looked at him then, and he continued, “You’ve been my lighthouse for a long time, Y/N. And I— I’m trying desperately to be yours… But you have to let me.”

Her eyes filled with fresh tears, but she nodded. He let out a long breath and pulled her hands into his lap. “I understand that sometimes you need space, and that’s fine. I’m happy to give you whatever you need.”

He shook his head. “Just— please don’t try to weather the storm by yourself. You can’t do it all alone; no one can.” He smiled ruefully. “I can tell you from experience that’s pretty much a guaranteed way to capsize your boat.”

His voice cracked a little at the end, and he felt a tear slip over his lash line. “I’ll help you repair your boat, or build a new one, or you can just float on mine for a while. It’s not perfect but it’s pretty sturdy, I think.”

She brought her fingers up to brush at his damp cheeks, and he met her eyes. “What I’m not going to do is let you float out on the ocean by yourself. I love you too much.”

She was quiet for a long moment, sniffling a little and just watching him— almost like she couldn’t believe he was there. She brought her hand back to his and laced their fingers together, rubbing her thumb along his skin. “I love you the most.”

“Agree to disagree.” He gave her a small smile and leaned forward to press his lips to her forehead. “Want some tea?”

She was frowning when he pulled back, her brows drawn together. “I need to tell you about Owen.”

The conversation he’d had with Anita was suddenly on replay in Spencer’s head.

… a real piece of shit… telling her lies about herself… isolating her… destroying her from the inside out...

He squeezed her hand. “You don’t have to tell me if you’re not ready. You don’t have to tell me at all if you don’t want to.”

She shook her head. “Talking about him takes away his power. I have to stop letting him have so much sway over my emotions.” She looked at him then. “I do things I regret and hurt people I love.”

He brought their joined hands up his lips. “Well, I’m here either way. And I’m still going to make you some tea.”

He stood and pulled her up with him, bringing her into the kitchen and refusing to let go of her hand. He filled the kettle and turned it on, found a bag of her favorite tea and ripped it open with his teeth. He dropped the bag into her favorite mug, and then made a mug up for himself.

“You know, it’d be a lot easier if you’d let go,” she said, the hint of a smile in her voice.

“Mhm,” he agreed, but he made no move to release her hand. In fact, once he’d fumbled a spoonful of honey into each of the cups, he dropped the spoon into her mug and turned to pull her into another hug. He hooked his chin over her shoulder and closed his eyes as she brought her arms around his waist. “I missed you,” he whispered.

She squeezed him tight. “I missed you, too. I’m so sorry.”

She buried her face in his neck, and he felt her breathe him in. He pressed a kiss into her shoulder and then settled his chin again. “Apology accepted, in case it wasn’t clear.”

They stood like that until the kettle began to whistle, and then Spencer kept her tucked underneath his arm as he turned to shut it off and pour the water into the mugs. They each grabbed a mug, making their way back to the couch and setting them on the coffee table to steep. Spencer kept their fingers intertwined and stayed quiet, letting her set the pace of the conversation.

Y/N took a deep breath and let it out on a long sigh. “I guess I should start at the beginning. I, um— I had my first boyfriend in high-school: Cal Cunningham. He was older and cooler, and so I felt— I don’t know… special when he picked me.” She rolled her eyes. “In reality, he was rude, and arrogant, and kind of a misogynist. We didn’t date for very long, but it kind of… set me up on this path of dating guys who weren’t very nice.”

Spencer ran his thumb soothingly along hers, waiting for her to continue. “When I started college, I dated this guy Adam for a few months. He was nice enough but really self-centered and a little immature. When we broke up I just wanted to be on my own for a while.”

“I was single for two years after that, just kind of… finding myself and whatever.” Her eyes tracked the path his thumb traced along her skin. “So when I started dating Owen at the end of junior year, it felt like my first real relationship. Like— we were both adults, and he dressed up for our dates, and he paid for things and bought me flowers and fit all the cliches.”

“And it was great at first,” she admitted. “We had a lot of the same friends, so we’d been hanging out for a while before we got together. He was a perfect gentleman— and smart, accomplished, and ambitious. I fell fast, and I fell hard, and we were sort of— it feels so stupid to say this, but it felt like we were an it couple.”

“A few of us made plans to move to DC after graduation— my friend Jess and her boyfriend Chris, Sam and Anita,” she explained. “And Owen and I, obviously. We moved in together in an apartment downtown. And that’s when everything changed.”

She drew her brows together. “It was little things at first. Like he’d jokingly call me stupid for forgetting something, or he’d complain about one of my friends being annoying. But it snowballed pretty quickly. He’d tell me I was stupid, and he wasn’t joking. All of my friends irritated him to the point where we couldn’t hang out anymore— even our former mutual friends. He thought that teaching kindergarten was a mindless, pointless job.”

Spencer tried to keep his heart rate steady, his facial expressions neutral, but his blood pressure was on the rise. No one deserved to be spoken to like that, least of all Y/N.

She continued, “We spent the holidays at my parents’ the second year we were dating, and he spent the entire car ride home explaining, in detail, how ridiculous and low-class he thought everything was.”

She shook her head and rubbed her free hand over her face. “I know it’s insane that I stayed with him for five years, but I— he did a really good job of convincing me that I was... that I was nothing. That he was doing me a favor by loving me. That he could have anyone, but he chose me. No one else was going to, so I should be grateful.”

He balled his free hand into a fist to avoid squeezing her to death. When Anita had said Owen was a piece of shit… he hadn’t realized just how deeply she meant it.

She picked at the fabric of her sweatpants, staring intently at the tiny pills. “When someone says all of that to you on a daily basis, and you’re not hearing otherwise from anyone else— because no one knew what was going on— when someone tells you you’re nothing… you start to believe it.”

Spencer relaxed his fist to bring his fingers up to her face, gently cupping her cheek. She leaned into his touch and closed her eyes for a long moment. He didn’t know what to say. Instead, he pressed his lips to her forehead in a voiceless assurance that she was, in fact, everything. He felt her relax under the warm pressure of his lips, and he hoped that was enough for now.

He sat back to let her continue. “We were together for five years, and we only broke up because he cheated on me. It was a long term affair; they were sleeping together for almost a year before I found out. And… a lot of people knew. Almost all of his friends knew. But I didn’t. I was still being this ridiculous, desperate little Suzy Homemaker trying to make him happy, even though he was still treating me like shit.”

She laughed, but there wasn’t an ounce of humor in it. “When I found out, I wasn’t even hurt. I was… embarrassed, I guess. But I was so relieved. I was so fucking relieved that I had a way out.”

He watched as her shoulders settled, almost like an actual weight had been lifted off of them. “I got a therapist and dropped all of the friends that were still hanging around with him. I moved to a new neighborhood, started hanging out with Anita and Sam, and just— started fresh. And I was doing really well. I’ve had my moments of insecurity here and there, but for the most part, I’ve been able to recognize the moments when I’m falling back into old thought patterns.”

She looked at him then, and her eyes were so soft and lovely that his heart ached. “You’re a big reason for that. You’re so open with how you feel about me, and… it makes things a lot easier.” She dropped her gaze with a sigh. “But I— he was at the party on New Year's. And I didn’t know he was going to be there until I was already there , and then it felt stupid to leave. I thought I could handle it—”

“And then I didn’t answer your call.”

“No, no .” She shook her head and reached her free hand out to grasp his arm. “That’s— Spencer, none of this is your fault.” She furrowed her brow, and the crease between them was practically an abyss. “He sort of— cornered me on the patio. I hadn’t seen him in like, four years? And he was complimenting me, and asking about you, and then he tried to— well, he did kiss me actually. I shoved him off, and he didn’t like that, and he did his whole Owen thing. Told me that he’d cheated because I was uninteresting and worthless. That eventually you’d get bored of me, too. Just, um— generally awful shit.”

She took a deep breath, and the rest steamrolled off her tongue and over his heart. “And then he just— left . And he’d absolutely demolished my self-image in less than ten minutes, and I was embarrassed and angry at myself, and then you didn’t answer, but I was kind of glad you didn’t because I didn’t actually want to talk about it. And I thought I could just move on, but then I was being weird, and you knew something was wrong. And I just wanted to pretend like it never happened, but then you kept pressing me on it, and I just— I didn’t want to have to explain it all to you because I was afraid that— that maybe he was right.”

Y/N dissolved back into the couch, an unwelcome indication of the emotional exhaustion that came with reliving trauma. Spencer moved closer and mirrored the position of her body against the cushions, bringing his face close enough to bump their noses together. They breathed the same air for one noiseless minute before she finally met his eyes.

“I need you to understand that not one single thing he said to you— on New Year’s or ever— was right, in either sense of the word. None of it was factual, and none of it was acceptable.”

She gave him a weary nod, and he continued, “You are the single best person that I know. You’re kind, brilliant, and driven. You’re interesting, and wonderful, and lovely. You’re my absolute favorite person on the planet, and I will never get bored of you.”

He let his eyes trace over all the angles and curves of her face, and then raised his eyebrows. “He’s lucky that I respect you enough not to go over your head, because what I’d like to do is run a full background check and find any and every possible transgression that could be legally investigated and then use that information to ruin his life.” He tilted his head in thought. “That or— get really jacked and then beat the shit out of him.”

“God, please don’t. As much as I’d love to watch that unfold,” she cupped his face in her hand, “you’re better than that. And he’s not worth either of our energies… I already wasted enough time dwelling on it and hurt you in the process.” She dropped her hand back to her lap with a sigh. “I spent so much time in that relationship that my brain didn’t know what to do with this good, healthy one.”

He took both of her hands in his, squeezing them tight and then pressing a kiss to the back of each. He wouldn’t commit assault, since she’d asked him not to. But he wasn’t going to let Owen taint any part of his life with her.

“I’m so sorry that someone you loved made you think it was hard to love you. Because loving you is the easiest thing I’ve ever done.” He pressed his lips together and mused, “But I think maybe love has a learning curve. Especially when you’re used to being hurt. You have to unlearn all the bullshit. People will have you thinking that you have to water yourself down, or change who you are, or make yourself more palatable. I thought that, too.”

He brushed her hair back away from her face and waited for her to meet his eyes. “And then I met you. And you love all of it— all of me. All the rambling, all the quirks, and— even the dark parts, too.”

She sniffled a little, but really smiled for the first time that night. “What’s not to love about you?”

He smiled back. “I’m not sure if you realize that I fully reciprocate that feeling. What’s not to love about you? I have a hard time thinking of even one thing about you that I don’t absolutely adore.”

“Even when I act like a horrid bitch?” she mumbled, only half joking.

He leaned his head against the couch cushion. “A year ago, you stood on my doorstep and gave me forgiveness— after I’d been a complete asshole to you... I told you then that I wanted to learn how to love with you. I still do. In all the wonderful, and the weird, and the terrible. Even when we get it wrong.”

He shrugged, and then ran a soft fingertip down the bridge of her nose. “There is no one else I’d rather get it wrong with. Because when we get it right… it’s the closest I’ve ever felt to magic.”

Her eyes sparkled with unshed tears, and she brought both hands up to his face, holding him with an adoration that made his own eyes burn. “You can believe that you love me the most,” she whispered, “but just know that you’re wrong.”

He leaned forward to close the distance between them, pressing a kiss to her lips with a reverence that felt technicolor and devout and more magical than any trick he’d ever mastered.

“Agree to disagree.”

———

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[pr1ncessm00n]

for sale or wanted — jean kirstein x fem! reader

series masterlist

prev | next , part two

warnings: cursing, porco being toxic lol. dates are wrong once again sorry !!

[ playlist : love again - dua lipa ]

eight.

Half asleep and ready to go to bed, Y/N fell back into her bed. She picked up her phone, hoping to mindlessly scroll through some TikToks. Instead, she was met with two messages. Audibly gasping as she read Porco’s name, she dropped her phone, hitting herself in the face in the process. “Ow!”

Porco? Y/N thought incredulously. What the hell does he want?

Contemplating asking Ymir and Sasha for advice, Y/N then decided against it. This was her life, she couldn’t expect her friends to guide her though it. But God, was she such a coward when it came to Porco. It wasn’t like he was Prince Charming, but Y/N had an extreme loyalty complex. She couldn’t ever allow herself to let go of people. Porco used to berate her for that constantly.

Why are you so clingy? He would ask.

Who’s the clingy one now? Y/N thought bitterly. She decided to ignore Porco’s text until she could think of a reply that wasn’t along the lines of “No, fuck you.” She slid her thumb over to Jean’s message.

Great. Another text asking to talk. Why couldn’t people just send their question and save a girl the anxiety? Y/N scolded herself for allowing her egotistical ex to ruin her mood. Jean didn’t deserve her snappiness.

Jean sighed in relief. Thank God she replied. He didn’t know if he could handle the mortification if she didn’t.

Y/N pondered for a bit.

Y/N laughed quietly to herself. So Jean could in fact match her sense of humor. She exited out of their chat, mindlessly scrolling through social media. She actively avoided Porco’s message, not wanting to burden herself with the chore of responding to him. What could he possibly have to say? She headed to Twitter, hopefully finding something relatable to retweet. As Y/N scrolled, she saw a familiar face appear on her timeline.

Recommended for you from contacts, the header read. Below it was about 3 profiles of people in her contacts she had not followed yet. Among them, was Jean.

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat.

Should I? She questioned. Would she be overstepping some unspoken boundary? What if she hurt her own feelings by stalking and seeing something she wouldn’t like/had no business seeing? Maybe she should just ignore it. She doubted Jean was some internet creep… but wouldn’t it be good to know if he was? Curiosity getting the better of her, Y/N decided to invade that boundary and look at his account.

He didn’t have much content from what Y/N could see. He just retweeted fancy cars and some funny memes. She spotted Connie, Sasha’s lifelong friend and Jean’s infamous roomie. She mentally hoped Jean didn’t tweet like Connie. That would be the ultimate ick.

Y/N’s thumb stopped scrolling, hovering over a tweet. Her heart beated ten times more rapidly.

well she is pretty lol, Jean’s tweet read. Tweeted just an hour after he met Y/N.

Could it be? Y/N wondered. No way. There’s no way it’s about me. I’m just jumping to conclusions. Why would he say that about me? I’m just being self absorbed.

She brushed off her inquiries, deciding to just stop stalking his account entirely. From what she already saw, there wasn’t anything suspicious or icky enough to make her want to not interact with him. And she was already paranoid, so every tweet she saw she would begin to assume it was about her as well. She was just getting her hopes up.

Rolling over on her side, Y/N placed her phone to charge and went to sleep. It was late, which was probably what was causing her mind to become fuddled.

——

“You should’ve told me Sasha’s third roomie was Y/N,” Reiner had said to Jean in the truck. “I totally blindsided her. Top ten worst encounters of my life.”

“Uh, care to enlighten me? Do you guys have beef or something?” Jean asked, perusing the radio stations.

Reiner sighed. “She’s dating- was dating- my childhood friend, Porco.”

Jean felt his stomach drop. “Oh.”

Reiner glanced at him before stopping at a red light. “I said dating. He dumped her like a week ago. It was pretty trash.”

Jean secretly felt more at peace hearing that. Poor Y/N, but.. she could probably do better than this Porco person.

“So what does that have to do with you?” Jean asked.

Reiner shrugged. “I guess I didn’t really help. She said she felt a little betrayed. Like I agreed with Porco and my friends that she’s the crazy one.”

Jean nodded. “So you were a bystander.”

Reiner sighed again, tilting his head in an I guess motion. “It’s just hard. Porco’s like my brother, and I don’t agree with how he acted… but maybe I should have spoken up sooner.”

Jean patted his shoulder. “Don’t blame yourself, man. That was between them.”

“Yeah. I could have at least told Porco to step it up, though.” Reiner murmured.

I’m glad you didn’t. Jean snickered to himself.

“So, you think she’s cute?” Reiner shot Jean a devilish grin. Jean rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, I guess. You goin’ to Historia’s birthday?” He slyly changed the subject.

“Is it open invite?” Reiner’s eyebrows scrunched up.

Jean shrugged. “I have an invite. Maybe you can be my plus one.”

Reiner made a “Hmm” sound in response, weary at Jean’s invite. “What are you dressing as if you go?”

“I was thinking swag era Justin Bieber.” Jean replied, smiling widely.

Reiner gave him a look. “You for real?”

Jean’s smile dropped. “What?”

Reiner laughed. “I’d pay money to see how badly you embarrass yourself with that.”

“It’s a 2000’s party?” Jean was confused.

“Yeah, but everyone does like, early 2000s. Think Britney Spears and Justin Timberlake.”

Jean shot him a curious look.

“What? Pop culture is my guilty pleasure.” Reiner explained himself. “And everyone knows Britney Spears.”

Jean hummed in response. “I just think you got a thing for pop girls.” He referenced the earlier Becky G mishap.

“I’m not even gonna deny it anymore.” Reiner agreed, defeated.

——

“Guys,” Y/N said the next morning. Ymir and Sasha were at the breakfast “nook” (a corner of their miniature kitchen designated for a small table that barely fit all three of them), Sasha eating cereal and Ymir chomping on an apple while scrolling on her phone. “Porco texted me last night.”

Ymir continued scrolling, unfazed. Sasha’s eyes widened and she swallowed her food before speaking. “What? Why?” Y/N glared at Ymir.

“Thanks for your interest YMIR, but as i was telling Sasha-“

“I’m Sasha.” Sasha cut in, obviously confused.

Y/N gave Sasha a look.

“Did you say something?” Ymir said, bored. She still hadn’t looked up from her phone.

“Ymir!” Sasha scolded. “Y/N’s telling us Porco texted her!”

“Who’s Porco?” Ymir replied, monotonous.

Y/N sighed in exasperation. “Are you stalking Eren again? I already told you to stop comparing your subscribers-“

“I’m not stalking Eren!” Ymir snapped defensively. “I’m…” She mumbled the next part incoherently.

“Huh?” Sasha and Y/N asked in unison.

“I SAID,” Ymir repeated, annoyed. “I’m looking up Britney Spears outfits. Historia wanted us to go as different eras of her. But I can’t find anything that matches my style.” She grumbled.

Y/N’s heart melted. It was adorable watching Ymir struggle to find a matching costume for Historia. It was like Marilyn Manson wanting to get along with a CareBear.

“Just go as JT,” Sasha said, chewing her cereal.

“One, close your mouth, and two, Historia asked for us to go as Brittney. I can’t just show up like a dude.” Ymir visibly deflated as she scrolled through countless pictures of a younger Spear’s iconic looks.

“Why don’t you try her bandanna phase? That wasn’t so over the top, and she wore mostly jeans.” Y/N suggested as she squeezed into the corner chair.

Ymir sighed. “I don’t want to wear a skirt or some bimbo shit. That’s y’alls look.”

“How do you manage to sound endearing trying to please your girlfriend while simultaneously insulting us?” Y/N wondered aloud.

“It’s a talent.” Ymir waved her off. “What did you guys get her though?”

“A giftcard to Urban Outfitters,” Sasha replied. “I got tired of searchin’. I put $50 on it. I think that should be enough for like, a shirt and a half. She better like it, too. ‘Cus I’m broke.” Sasha pointed her spoon at Ymir accusingly.

“I got her the Taylor Swift vinyl she’s been wanting. And some pink film for her camera.” Y/N added. Ymir nodded approvingly.

“I hope she likes my gift. I don’t know if I’m moving too fast though?” For the first time since Y/N mer Ymir, Y/N hadn’t ever seen her this distraught.

“Calm down,” Y/N reassured her. “You’ve been together for years now. I don’t think you can move any slower.”

Ymir rolled her eyes, leaning back im her chair with arms crossed. “It’s a small trip to Seoul. I know she’s been dying to go. It’s not like it’s anything she hasn’t seen before with her family… but I figure it’d be different with just us.” Y/N’s heart melted.

“That’s so sweet!” Sasha exclaimed, eyes watery. “I want an Ymir!”

“Well, you can’t have me!” Ymir laughed. “It’s not a big deal. The sponsorship I managed to land gave me a decent payout.” Ymir sheepishly replied, her cheeks a faint red

Y/N nudged her. “Look at you, being modest.”

Ymir waved her hand. “Shut up. How does this look?” She turned her phone to Y/N, showing a picture of Britney Spears clad in low waist jeans, a black tank top and sure enough, a yellow bandanna.

“That’s perfect.”

Ymir smirked, smug. “Just like me.”

“Y/N!” Sasha shouted. “Go back to the Porco thing!”

“Oh, yeah. What did Oinky want?” The girls turned to face Y/N, who shrank a bit back in her seat.

“That’s a new one,” Y/N chuckled. “I thought of one last night, too,” She paued for dramatic effect. “Porker!” She gasped out, giggling, hitting the table in a slight fit of laughter. Sasha and Ymir gave Y/N a blank stare, unamused at Y/N’s mediocre roast.

“Not funny, didn’t laugh.” Sasha spat.

“If your career was stand up you’d be living in a box.” Ymir deadpanned.

“Tough crowd,” Y/N sighed, wiping imaginary tears from her eyes. “But if you must know…” She purposely stalled a bit, knowing it would send an impatient, jittery Sasha over the edge and annoy Ymir even more, even if she pretended she was not interested in the relationship drama between Y/N and her disgraced ex.

“Just say it already!” Sasha begged.

“I…don’t know. I haven’t responded.” Y/N finally admitted, putting her head in her hands. “I just-“ Her words were muffled by her hands.

Ymir removed her hands from her face. “Your words, darling.” She scolded, voice oozing sarcasm.

“Ugh,” Y/N groaned. “I’m too pussy to respond. He just asked if we could talk. What could he possibly want? What if he wants the couch? It’s just too much.”

Sasha gave her a sympathetic gaze. “Just leave him on read! If he wants to talk so badly he’ll find a way to say what he needs to.”

“For once, I agree.” Ymir added.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” Y/N stretched. “But it did keep me up at night wondering what he wanted.”

“Y/N, forget him! Historia’s party is soon, there’s no time to worry about ugly men!” Sasha stood up, rushing to put her bowl in the sink. “I got a lecture in a few, but you need to find your costume! We’re all going as Britney!” She said before disappearing into her room.

“Um, who’s gonna tell her we’re not all dressing as Britney?” Ymir inquired.

Y/N snorted. “Not I. I’m probably going as Suki from Fast and the Furious.”

“Niiceee,” Ymir fist pumped Y/N. “She was my sexual awakening.” Y/N choked on her muffin.

“Ymir, what’d we say about uncalled for horniness?” Y/N reprimanded. Ymir made her way to the coat rack, searching for her car keys in her leather jacket’s pocket.

“If I was gonna be chewed out for liking women I would’ve lived with my parents!” Ymir called out. “I gotta pick up Historia!”

“Will you be back?” Y/N shouted back.

“Get off my dick!” Ymir shut the door. Laughing to herself, Y/N picked up Ymir’s dish to place in the sink. She was, out of the three, the more tidier one. Ymir did the best cleaning, but she was selectively lazy.

“Bye, Y/N!” Sasha shouted before leaving in a rush. One thing Y/N had grown used to was the fairly chaotic mornings. She secretly hoped they would be like this for a long time.

Since Y/N had transferred, Ymir and Sasha had been the best roommates she could ask for. Yes, Ymir was snappy and Sasha was a bit ditzy, but it was the perfect combination and they were respectful. Y/N had transferred from Sina University purely for academic reasons, but she had not expected to fit in so well with the girls or their group of pre establish friends. She worried she would not fit in since they had already been so tight-knit, but found that wasn’t the case at all. They were open, accepting and loyal. Y/N couldn’t be happier where she was, and even though she wouldn’t admit it, she was grateful for how close they had all gotten in their short time together. Who knew randomly assigned rooming would provide her with friendship to last a lifetime?

Which is why every time she thought about Porco she kicked herself. How could she have let some… meathead ruin her freshmen year of college? She should have been having fun, interacting with Ymir and Sasha’s friends more, lived her own life. But no, she chose to become involved with a self absorbed fraternity guy of all people. Now she was semi-heartbroken, extremely humiliated, and about a year’s worth of time and effort short. She had allowed him to take advantage of her so much, that he felt he could contact her still after basically using her. The thought made her want to rip her hair out and scream.

Almost as if through divine intervention, her phone beeped with a notification.

What the actual hell? Y/N thought.

She froze for a second. What does she do? Respond? Ignore? Block?

After a few seconds of mental deliberation, Y/N finally decided. She was fed up with the lack of bravery she showed and decided to just end it once and for all. Typing out a response, she clicked send and decided to go to the mall for the retail therapy she was sure to need after whatever Porco said what he wanted to say. Turning the shower on, she braced herself for his response. What could Porco want? She couldn’t wrap her mind around it.

This better be good, Y/N thought.

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a/n: woohoo!! long chapter. so to recap: i graduated!! i am finally free from the clutches of high school. i might do a face reveal :) bc i loved my grad dress. anywho, my fever cleared up, i have chapter 9 already completed (just need to revise + edit) and this is NOT proof read!! it’s 2 am guys i’m tired. but i hope you enjoyed this :) sorry for the weird cropping too. peace out

[xwendigox]

Guys I promise I’m working on some shit for y’all to read. Working 10hr shifts is taxing tho 😭 I’m also supposed to be working on updating my resume to get a job at a bank, via through my mentor. And then I promised myself I was going to go to the gym and start working out again this week too. My body dysmorphia is fucking through the roof rn. Like I don’t even know how to explain. Mental health is kinda like all over the place rn. Highs and lows. Yes, Im making sure to take my medication. Maybe it’s the stress. Like this past weekend I was fucking rocking it. Normally I sleep all day practically to recover from the work week. But this time, bro I knocked some heavy shit out. I deep cleaned my car. Y’all would think the 20+ year old is brand spankin new. I was so proud of myself. Wouldn’t let my sister drive her own car, because I wanted to show mine off. Then I deep cleaned my closet and dresser so now I can find shit. Like that stuff was so fucking lit. I felt so good.

My birthday is Friday and I told myself “let’s try to get a birthday bod goin”. At least I have Friday off to enjoy my birthday. 🤷 Like I’m excited for the weekend. Like Thursday, I’m going out to dinner with my friends. Friday is the actual birthday party…and then…my abusive parents have demanded my presence on Saturday for pizza and movie to celebrate my bday. I don’t fucking want to go. But I am, because I want to see my brother and know how he’s doing since he won’t talk to me. The only way I know what’s sorta going on in his life is through what they tell me and what he posts on his social media platforms. The shit I go through for this boy. Honestly don’t know wtf I’m doing. Why I even care anymore if he’s just going to act like I don’t exist even though he’s a victim to them too. My mentor says he’s just trying to play his cards right to survive and eventually get out. I hope it’s true. Y’all I’d like to talk and chill with my bro again like good ol times.

Sorry for the rant guys. Just a lot of my mind rn. Trying to stay positive. Love y’all 💕

[wavyhairedbabyy]

Idiots - Part 2

Karl Jacobs x gn!reader

tldr: They’ve both got a crush. Sucks, since they’re the only ones oblivious to it. (Slow Burn!)

CW: none, fluffy :))

a/n: Picnic portion was inspired by Sunflower by Rex Orange County :) Sorry it took so long! Major writers block on this but now I’m back :)))

edited yet?: yes - let me know if I missed anything!

Part 1 - Part 2

“So we agree, I’m Eve and you’re Wall-E?” y/n asked as the credits began to roll.

“I want to sit here and disagree with you just to spite you, but I can’t,” Karl responded, “I could 100% see you blasting someone for just walking funny on a bad day.”

“I’d blast you just for the hell of it,” Y/n jumped onto their feet raising their arms up in a big stretch after sitting for the movie.

“Bad choice,” Karl reached his arms to the side of their body, immediately tickling them. Y/n immediately screamed out his name, trying to move themselves out of his grasp. As soon as Karl noticed this, he grabbed their arm to pull them back on to the sofa.

“You’re... going... to... regret... this!” Y/n huffed out, thrashing against him. Karl’s giggles and their screams echoed around the house. It wasn’t until y/n mustered up all of their strength to push him of the couch for them to escape his clutches.

Y/n ran to the bathroom, quickly locking the door behind them. Karl quickly ran behind them only to have the door slammed in his face, “Aw, c’mon y/n, let me in.”

“After that stunt you pulled? In your dreams, Jacobs,” Y/n turned toward the sink, ignoring Karl’s attempts to unlock the door. The only thing on their mind was their night routine and then hitting the hay.

As y/n started the warm water, the door swung opened making them jump. At the door frame stood Karl with a quarter in his hand, “Next time you should check to see what kind of lock I have.”

“Whatever, smart ass,” y/n rolled their eyes playfully, reaching for their tooth brush. They brushed their teeth as Karl scrolled through his phone. After the flight, unpacking, and a night with Karl, y/n just wanted to head to bed. They couldn’t even imagine how Karl felt with all the Mr. Beast stuff. After rinsing their mouth they asked, “You goin’ to bed too?”

Karl shook his head, “Nah, I’m going to stream for an hour or two. Nick and Alex want to practice for this Minecraft Championship thing so I’m gonna root them all while also roasting the crap out of them.”

Y/n should’ve known, especially with the mountains of energy drinks in his fridge. The man probably never sleeps, “Well you enjoy that. I’m knocking out for the night.”

Karl nodded. “I figured. You and you grandma schedule,” he giggled, resulting in a pout from them.

“You say that as if dealing with sleep deprived me isn’t one of the worst things in the world.”

“I mean, you got me there,” he shrugged. He walked over to them, wrapping his arms around them tightly, “Goodnight. Knock on my door if you need anything at anytime, okay?”

Y/n nodded, hugging back just as tightly. They wished this could last together. His smell was comforting, reminding her of happiness and serenity. His hold made them feel safe, like nothing could hurt them as long as he was there. The feeling ended too quickly as he pulled away, giving them one last smile before heading off to his stream room.

Y/n looked at themselves in the mirror, huffing to themselves. Going from not seeing Karl for over a year to all Karl all the time felt like sensory overload. The butterflies, the emotions, their head racing with thoughts that they shouldn’t have for someone who is just their best friend - it was a lot.

This was going to be a long week.

***

Y/n woke up to the sun’s rays gleaming through the blinds. Looking at their phone, they saw that it was 9AM. Juggling between the staying in bed and getting up, y/n decided that getting up was the better option. The last thing they wanted to do was go back to bed and mess up their “grandma schedule,” as Karl would call it.

Moving out of the bed, they reached their limbs as far as they could stretch them. After picking their outfit, they journeyed to the bathroom to get their morning started. On the way over, they peeked into Karl’s room and saw him still asleep. They had no idea when he had gone to bed so they shut the door quietly, making their way to the bathroom once again.

As they were brushing their teeth, y/n realized it was the day they were going to the warehouse for a Mr. Beast video. They knew they weren’t going to be filmed, but the nerves were still there. They had met Chris, which was helpful, but not Jimmy yet. What if they messed up a shot? Or messed up any equipment? Not touching anything while they were there seemed like a fool proof idea.

Y/n finished up their morning routine as they kept thinking of ways to not fuck anything up. Making their way to the kitchen, they knew the one thing that could - somewhat - calm their nerves: coffee.

Y/n happily found a jar of instant coffee. Not the best, but it’ll do. Upon unscrewing the jar, they noticed it a plastic film seal up which confirmed that it was brand new. Did Karl get this just because he knew they were coming? They couldn’t recall him ever drinking caffeine that wasn’t from an energy drink. Y/n didn’t know, but the idea of it made their heart melt.

***

Once Karl woke up, he and y/n made a quick breakfast together made their way over to the warehouse.

“I don’t know why, but I’m really nervous. I don’t even know what I’m nervous about. I know it’s going to be fine, but.... I don’t know,” y/n expressed on the drive there. It was a brand new experience and they didn’t know what to expect. They’ve never been on a set of any kind let alone one for someone as well known as Mr. Beast.

“Hey, you’ll be okay. I know it can feel overwhelming, especially for your first time. I’ll be there if you need anything,” Karl comforted them through their nerves. He held their hand and gave it a gentle squeeze, “If you ever need a minute, don’t wait to ask. Just take it.”

Y/n smiled at him. He was always great at making sure they were comfortable wherever they went. While the nerves were still there, they felt a lot better knowing Karl was available, even among the chaos that may ensue.

***

The day at the warehouse went really well. Y/n’s nerves went away about an hour in, but that didn’t stop Karl from checking every now and then. Y/n was grateful that they respected them not wanting to be filmed, especially when they started filming a Fear Factor like video with snakes, cockroaches, and tarantulas. With all the creatures around, it didn’t take long for them to grab one of the smaller boa constrictors and start chasing Karl around with it.

“Y/N! STOP! WHAT DID I EVER DO TO YOU?” Karl screeched, running away from them.

“REMEMBER THAT TICKLE ATTACK FROM LAST NIGHT? TOLD YOU YOU WOULD REGRET IT!” Y/n yelled back. They were laughing the entire time while Karl continued his screaming. Their fun chasing Karl was cut short when snake man had to start packing away his animals.

At some point during the day, y/n had taken a step outside for a social break. Chris took this time to continue the conversation he and Karl had in the car. Walking over to his friend, he asked, “So have you told them yet?”

Karl looked around to ensure you hadn’t come back or were around before responding, “No, I’m going to wait until right before they leave. I’m scared that I’ll tell them and it’ll ruin the week.”

Chris looked at Karl, absolutely dumbfounded, “Dude, I can’t believe the two of you. And you two acted the way you did today in college too?”

“I mean, yeah. We’re best friends. What’s wrong with how we’re acting?” Karl gave him a confused look.

“Nothing but it’s so painfully obvious y’all are into each other. I didn’t pick it up yesterday, but y/n is totally into you too, man,” Chris explained, “Even Chandler was able to pick it up. He thought I was kidding when I said you two weren’t a low-key thing. Please do both of yourselves a favor and just tell them.”

This conversation ran through Karl’s head the rest of the day. Did y/n really like him back? The thought of that made his stomach do flips. He became hyper aware of all y/n’s actions and they suddenly meant more to him. When they high-fived, he felt his hand on fire when they weaved their fingers with his. He was more aware of their body on his when they hugged, butterflies flying through his stomach when they gave him a squeeze.

The drive home was spent by y/n non-stop talking about how much of a great day they had right after a heated debate on where they would be picking up dinner. They were too tired to even thinking about cheffing up a meal. What y/n didn’t know was the nerves hidden underneath Karl’s semi-cool exterior on how he planned on confessing his feelings. Luckily, “semi-cool” was his middle name.

The two had stopped at the Asian fusion place they decided to pick up food from. As they got into the car, Karl’s eyes lit up as he came up with an idea for dinner and turned to y/n.

Y/n, noticing this, furrowed their brows and said, “You either have a really good idea or a really dumb idea, and I think you’re going to tell me whether I want to hear it or not.”

“You are absolutely right!” Karl giggled, “Anyways, to keep it short and simple, picnic in the park? I have a blanket and we can pick up some ice cream or something.”

“That... actually is a great idea! I’m starting a playlist now and I’ll share it with you. How does ‘stupidly great vibes’ sound?”

“Sounds perfect.”

***

The two sat on a hill in a nearby park, digging into their dinner with the last minute playlist y/n had come up with playing in the background. The bottom of the sun was barely touching the horizon, getting ready to set and give the sky to the moon for the night.

The comfortable silence they had was one of their favorite things about their relationship. Neither of them ever felt pressure to fill the emptiness. Just being in each other’s company was entertaining and pleasing for both of them. They just watched their surroundings, while enjoying their food and each other’s presence.

After they clean up, the silence continued. They sat shoulder to shoulder, enjoying the moment they were in. They both would steal side glances at each other without the other noticing. Moving to lean their head on Karl’s shoulder, Y/n was looking at the sunset but their thoughts were swarmed with him and the last day and a half. They loved how he always made sure they were comfortable and welcomed in any setting. They loved they way his voices would crack during a fit of giggles. Just one day with him had their mind swirling in a pool of just him. His touch, his smell, his voice. They felt like they were in a trance with him.

Being with them, Karl realized how much happier he was with them there. He realized how much giddier he was waking up, how his mood had been uplifted with just their presence. He loved how headstrong they were, but never so much to the point that it hurt other people. He loved the way they could up his self esteem in the matter of a few minutes. The more and more he thought about it, the more he realized he loved them. He loved them more than just a best friend. He’s had for a handful of years. He wanted more than just the title “best friend.”

The two sat there, both individually coming to the realization that they have been falling in love with the other over the last few years. Neither caught onto each other’s hints while every outsider saw the love for one another other bloom.

Karl turned his head, spotting a small white daisy in the grass next to their blanket. He leaned over to grab it which forced y/n to lift their head from where it was, their eyes watching for what he was reach for. Plucking it from the grass, he leaned back and gave it to y/n.

“For you,” he practically whispered with the goofiest grin on his face. Y/n took the flower from his hand, returning his smile.

“Aw, thanks Karl.”

They locked eyes immediately after. Any plans Karl had in his mind on confessing to y/n immediately got thrown out the window, the hours of thinking gone to waste. In that moment, he blurted out the only words he could make sense of in that instant, “y/n... I think I’m in love with you.”

Y/n froze, trying to wrap the words he said around their head. They for sure thought they were awake but after his confession, they couldn’t be sure if they were in a dream or not. Their mind was reeling, making the task of forming a sentence that made sense a difficult one.

At the same time, Karl was giving himself a mental face palm. He wanted to confess his feelings, but not to that level. His nerves were on high alert, already assuming the worst was yet to come. He had to save the friendship at the very least.

“I-I’m sorry. It wasn’t supposed to come out like that,” he rambled, “But - uh- I’ve had a crush on you for a while now and I never wanted to ruin the friendship but if you’re uncomfortable with that, that totally makes sense-”

As he kept talking, y/n began to collect their thoughts. They thought he looked so cute when he nervously rambled but they had to cut him off eventually, knowing his anxiety levels were through the roof.

“Karl,” As soon as he heard their voice, his rambling stopped and kept all eyes on them. He looked at them waiting for a response but receiving none. Instead y/n wrapped their arms around him, enveloping him in a warm hug, “I think I’m in love with you too.”

Karl felt his heart explode. Chris was right. He hugged them back just as, if not more, tight. Any nerves he had running threw his body were replaced with pure happiness. He didn’t need to hold anything back from them anymore.

Y/n pulled away from the hug, leaning their foreheads together, “Can I kiss you?”

Karl smiled, “Honestly, it’s all I’ve want since I made that shot into your coffee.”

Y/n gave Karl a bewildered look, “What? That long?” They exclaimed

“Yeah, but we have the rest of the week to talk about it.” Karl leaned in, pressing his lips gently against theirs, wrapping his hands around them to bring them closer. The kiss was gentle and sweet, as if they would be woken up from a dream if they were anything but that.

They pulled away from kiss, but remained in each other’s arms. They stayed silent and enjoyed each other’s presence and touch, each meaning much more than they had just a few moments earlier. All that was left in the park was the semicircle of the sun on the horizon, a bag of food scraps, and two idiots, dumbfounded at the love they had for each other.

***

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