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#could not think about anything else that day
luveline · 1 day
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jade my lovely, i would kill for more early season spencer and bombshell!reader. i love them sm!! (i also love seeing the mentions of elle, like that’s my bbg)
“You aren’t still mad.”
You take a sip of your coffee and refuse to answer. 
Elle rolls her eyes. It’s unrestrained, as is her deep sigh. “Whatever.” 
You drink more coffee. Think about it, can’t contain it, “Whatever yourself, Greenaway.” 
“I want it just as bad as you do.” 
“But I’m better.” 
“You’re not better. You’re less likeable, there’s a difference.” 
You weren’t surprised when they chose Elle for the open BAU position, but you were gutted nonetheless. Pretending it doesn’t bother you comes easily, just not when she’s rubbing it in your face. “Can you leave that?” 
She hands over the stapler she’d been about to put in her cardboard. You don’t own one, and you decide to forgive her when she hands it to you without argument. “You want anything else?” 
“No, it’ll just remind me of you.” You sniff. 
“At least you’ll have an empty desk beside yours for a while. It’ll be good for your afternoon meditation.” 
“Hopefully, they’ll fill your absence with a very attractive new recruit.” You’d like that, a hottie to crush on. Now Elle’s leaving, you’ll have no one to project your fantasies on to make it through the work day. “How will you cope?”
“What, without you?” Elle asks. 
“With all the BAU hotties. Everybody on that team is maddeningly attractive,” you say with a put upon swoon, back of your hand curled and thrown to land against your forehead. 
“I didn’t realise you felt that way about Jason Gideon. Perhaps if you’d made that known, you’d be packing your desk up instead of me,” Elle laughs. 
“Well, maybe not Gideon. But the rest of them. Derek… if you take him seriously, he’s gorgeous. And Hotch–”
“He’s married. And older than us by ten years.” 
“He’s handsome, is what he is. So quietly funny and moody. I’m not telling you to ruin his marriage, I’m just saying he’s distracting.” 
“And Spencer Reid?” she asks. 
You grin. “He’s cute.” 
“Morgan said you asked him out for coffee?” 
“He wanted to tell me about water bugs.” It was sudden but sweet, he’d started a tangent on how they can walk on water because they’re small and hydrophobic, then asked if you really wanted to know, which you did. 
“He’s cute,” Elle says, raising her brows. 
“Have you seen him turn to the side? His jawline is ridiculous.” 
“He looks a little… dorky,” Elle says finally. She isn’t mean-spirited, just honest about her tastes. 
“I like dorks. And I really loved him, he was adorable. Derek’s been hazing him, so maybe you could be nicer? I think he really needs a friend.” 
“You don’t want to be that friend?” 
You smile. “I do. But I can’t exactly do that from Sex Crimes.” 
“Well, you can help me carry my stuff to the BAU. Come on.” 
“And look desperately needy? Is there anything worse than going where you’re not wanted?” 
“Morgan will be happy to see you. Maybe Dorky Spencer will be there to tend your BAU shaped wounds.” 
“You’re heartless, Greenaway.” 
You put your arms out obediently for her box. She grabs her jacket and her bag, gives her desk a last sweep, and turns away. It’s the last time she’ll ever sit at her desk in the Sex Crimes Unit, and it’s the most envious you’ve ever been of a friend. You want more than anything to be in her position. Profiling isn’t mythical to you, it’s a science you’ve studied, and you believe you could do it well if they just gave you time to learn on the job like they’ve done for Elle. 
But the position is filled. There’s no room left on the team. 
No need for a sex crimes expert now they’ve chosen Elle. 
You’re going to have to make yourself useful in other ways, or play politics, or, better, make friends. 
Hotch likes you, you know that, and Derek’s awesome. Gideon is the one you need to convince, but for some reason he’s totally sworn off of you. Luckily for you, he isn’t out in the BAU office when you enter, it’s just Derek, Spencer Reid, and Elle’s waiting desk. 
“Hi boys,” she greets. 
Derek turns. 
Spencer puts down his book. You meet his eyes. 
You’re far more flirty than Elle. “Hi, Derek. Hi, Dr. Reid.” 
Derek grins and takes Elle’s box from your arms. “Hi, girls. Happy moving day.” 
You don’t really want to talk about it, think about it, or come off as a jealous jerk, so you do a little bit of performance. “What are you reading?” you ask Spencer, pretending to be interested, hoping he’ll throw you a rope. You spot a familiar creature on the cover and your smile legitimises. “Is that about pond skaters?” 
“It’s Small Freshwater Creatures,” he says, shy but somehow firm, too. His tone changes as he relays facts. “It’s an identification guide, but it does talk about the specifics.”
“You really like bugs, huh?”
“I wanted to know more about it in case you came back.” 
You can’t help grinning. “That's really sweet,” you say earnestly, “did you learn anything new? You sounded like an expert already.” 
“They’re predators. They eat mosquito larvae.” 
“Oh, awesome, so if we had a few more pond skaters in the world we’d be better off.” 
You prop yourself on Spencer’s desk as he begins to rattle of facts and figures. Not too far away, Elle and Derek talk under their breaths. 
“Is it me, or is she into him?” Derek asks. 
“Maybe more than she realises.” Elle bites back a smile, stealing glances at you from over Derek’s shoulder. You’re more interested in what he has to say than anything she’s seen on you before. You lean in, your eyes bright. A little flirty, ever so slightly teasing, but genuine, too, as Spencer begins a quick spiel. 
“Well, he’s a goner,” Derek laughs. 
Elle doesn’t know about that. You don’t play with people’s hearts. 
There’s a teeny, tiny strand of shyness to you as you touch your neck. You begin rolling the chain links of your necklace along your finger, causing poor Dr. Reid to lose his train of thought. Two people entirely unaware of the road they’re embarking on. 
“Do you guys have a stapler?” Elle asks. “I lost mine in the divorce.” 
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bro-atz · 3 days
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sore all over
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in which: san hates seeing you miserable during your period, and he wants to help any way he can.
pair: san/afab!reader
word count: 2.2k
content: smut, pwp, nicknames (baby), established relationship, lowkey kinda self-indulgent shhh, period sex, safe sex, completely consensual!
rated: R | nsfw — minors do not interact
author's note: thank you @k-hotchoisan @ja3hwa @temptaetions @flurrys-creativity @mercif4l for the input (and the validation i lowkey needed to write this lol)
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Not going to lie, San was a little worried when you didn't get out of bed all day. Well, you technically did get up to drag yourself to the bathroom every so often, but then you immediately went back to bed. He knew that you were in a lot of pain because of your period, but he didn't realize that you were going to be completely out of commission that day.
Usually, your periods didn't hit you that hard, but this time around, it was like you were being stabbed in the uterus over and over again. Your entire body was aching like there was no tomorrow, and you truly thought it was going to be over for you because no matter what you did, you were in a world of pain. Hot packs didn't help, painkillers didn't help— nothing was working to alleviate your pain. So, you just curled yourself up into a ball and hugged a pillow to your body while burying your face in the pillow.
"Baby?" San asked as he approached you on the bed slowly from behind you. "Are you okay?"
"No," you mumbled into the pillow. "I wanna die."
"Don't say things like that, baby," San said with a frown.
"How about I kick you in the balls, then you talk?" you couldn't help but retort. "You would wanna die, too, wouldn't you?"
San shivered at the thought of anything hurting his crotch. He shook his head to keep himself from derailing from his original thought and said, "Well, I'm here to help you, baby. Can I do anything else to help you?"
You tried turning to face him, but your back was so sore that it hurt when you moved even a millimeter. Still laying on your side, you grunted in slight pain as you pulled your shirt up slightly and asked, "Can you massage my back for me please? My lower back?"
"Of course I can," San replied.
San knelt on the bed, his knees on either side of you at first as he waited for something, although you had no idea what until he spoke again.
"Shouldn't you lay on your stomach for me to massage your back, baby?"
You huffed in frustration, but before you could even contemplate turning, San said, "Never mind. Don't move— I think I can still massage you well from the side."
"You sure?"
"Yes, baby," San said as he left a light kiss on your temple. "I want you to feel comfortable."
San ended up lying on the bed right behind you, his warm hands resting on the small of your back. He pressed his thumbs into the dimples on your back, and you groaned. It was still painful, but the pressure from his thumbs did alleviate some of the pain, so it was worth the momentary suffering.
Every time San pressed his fingers into your back, you groaned and sighed, the massage actually working better than the hot pack did. You found yourself pushing your body towards his magic touch, sighs of pleasure tumbling out of your mouth as his massage continued.
What you didn't realize, though, was that San was getting harder with every passing second because your moans were incredibly sensual. He knew that you were in pain and suffering because of your period, but he so badly wanted to fuck you in that moment because you sounded so fucking sexy to him with your constant moaning and groaning.
Now that the dull, throbbing pain in your back was slightly relieved, you felt your breasts get more sore. You dropped the pillow you were hugging to the floor and tried to massage your own breasts, but your hands were too weak to get the same level of pressure that San was using on your back. So, you asked, "Can you... Can you also massage my breasts, please?"
"Of course, baby. Whatever you want," San murmured.
San's hands slithered up your shirt, his palms resting flat on your ribs, his fingers brushing your underboob. As he hugged you from behind, he pulled you closer to him, your back flush against his chest. He then gripped your breasts gently, his fingers pressing into your sore breasts and starting to massage them. However, when you moaned in slight frustration, he immediately used more power and gripped your breasts tightly. As he did so, his fingers brushed past your nipples, making you moan loudly and erotically as hell. Embarrassed, you covered your mouth, your face heating up.
"That was so cute, baby," San teased as he buried his face in your hair. "Can you make that noise again for me? Please?"
"N-No. Shut up," you rejected.
Despite you rejecting him, San was determined to make you moan like that again.
"S-Sannie," you moaned when his fingers started pinching your nipples. "I-I'm really sensitive right now, baby..."
"Do you want me to stop, then?" he asked you, his breath tickling your neck and his low voice tickling your brain.
"God, no... Don't stop..."
San chuckled. He pinched the slightest bit harder before tugging on your nipple. You arched your back and sighed sensually as he continued to tug. You reached back for his head and ran your fingers through his hair. You gripped the roots of his hair and tugged his head back slightly whenever he rubbed your nipples in his fingers.
Your eyes began fluttering the more he massaged, and you completely closed your eyes when you felt him begin to leave small little kisses in the nook of your neck. You were thoroughly enjoying his massage and got sucked into your own little world of pleasure, only for your eyes to fly wide open when he pressed his pelvis into your ass.
"Sannie, you're turned on right now?" you couldn't help but giggle as you asked.
You managed to reach back and cup his clothed hard-on in your hand, the man moaning slightly as you did so. His breathing hitched as he replied, "How can I not be when I'm touching you like this... And while you're moaning like that...?"
Finally, thanks to his hard work, your soreness was relieved just enough for you to turn in his arms. You palmed his cock over his pants and whispered, "How about I help you with this, then? It's my turn to help you, after all."
"Actually," San said slowly before gulping nervously. "I think there's a way we can help each other out, baby..."
"What do you mean?"
You were honestly left completely shocked when San suddenly got up from the bed and disappeared from your bedroom. However, moments later, San returned with a couple of towels and a condom.
"Do you think you can get off the bed for a second, baby?" San asked you.
"W-What— You can't be serious right now, San," you said in disbelief, your eyes wide.
"I read online that having sex on your period should help with your cramps," he explained to you.
"But— Won't the blood freak you out?" you questioned.
"It's a natural thing, baby. Why would I be freaked out?"
"It'll get all over you, and it'll stain the bed sheets! Also, it's dirty—"
"That's what the condom and towels are for," he interrupted you. "Don't worry, baby. We don't have to if you don't want to, but I think we could at least try it out."
Honestly, you had read the same information online about the benefits of having sex on your period, and it did cross your mind to ask your boyfriend to fuck the ever-loving shit out of you, but you didn't think he would be open to having sex when you were bleeding; so him being so willing to have sex with you on your period without you even asking kind of freaked you out a bit, and you would've probably pushed back a little harder had it not been for your hormones turning you on earlier when he was massaging your breasts.
You agreed, and San immediately set up the bed. He laid the towels down on the bed and removed the comforter and pillows to make sure they wouldn't accidentally get stained. He had you strip down to nothing before having you lay down on the bed.
As you laid on the towels, you were already worried about bleeding onto them, and you couldn't help but fidget. Noticing the slightly stressed look on your face, San quickly removed his own clothes and rolled the condom on his twitching, hard cock before straddling you. His fingers held your chin gently, forcing you to look at him as he lowered his body onto yours.
"Baby, don't think about it as blood. Think of it as lube, only red," he said calmly. "And if you're so worried about the color, then just close your eyes, okay?"
With a soft exhale, you nodded. Your eyes fluttered shut as San got closer to you, his lips meeting yours. He kissed you softly and slowly, your mind melting as his kisses got more sensual. You didn't have a single care or worry with the way San was kissing you in that moment, and you were so out of touch from everything else that you didn't realize he was rubbing the tip of his cock along your cunt.
San pushed his cock into you slowly but easily, his cock filling you up. You moaned against his lips, your hands clutching the towels underneath you as you started unintentionally getting nervous again. As a result, you couldn't help but clench your cunt, and of course, San felt your nervousness.
"Baby," San interrupted your chain of kisses with a soft sigh. "Relax..."
His hands reached for your arms. He brought them up and laced his fingers with yours. He kissed you again, and when he felt your cunt finally relax, he started moving. His waist rolled into yours slowly, and the dull pain you felt earlier started melting away thanks to the friction from his cock. You couldn't help but sigh with relief the more he moved in and out of you.
"You feeling better, baby?" San asked you, his forehead pressing against yours.
"A little bit, yeah," you admitted softly.
"Then, can I move a little faster?"
San lifted his face so he could look into your eyes. You opened your eyes and nodded before closing your eyes again— technically, San was blocking your line of sight, but you were still worried that you were going to see red, so you closed them again. San buried his face in the nook of your neck, his breath hitting your collarbone. He started rutting into you a little faster, making you sharply inhale and moan while exhaling.
The wet sound of his waist meeting yours repetitively was honestly freaking you out a little bit. No matter how you tried to think about it, you knew that the wet sound was not your arousal or lube, but before you could spiral thinking about it, San moved his lips to your ear, and he started whispering sweet nothings into your ear, drowning out the sound of him fucking you.
Your entire body started shifting along the towels as San not only sped up but started thrusting harder. He let go of your hands to hook his arms under your legs, pushing them upwards, easing the strain on your lower back as he quite literally bent you in half. You could hear him grunting and moaning softly in your ear with every thrust; you could tell he was close, and honestly, you didn't realize you were as well until he grabbed your breasts again.
San intentionally rubbed his fingers against your nipples, the pleasure from how sore they were building rapidly within you. It was when San rammed his hips into yours as hard as he could, hitting your cervix with the tip of his cock, did you cum. You moaned loudly and pushed your head back while arching your back as you came, San's cock still buried inside you.
As you came, you clenched your cunt tightly, giving San's cock the right amount of pressure for him to cum as well. He moved up so he could hold your waist tightly and thrust a couple more times into your cunt. He groaned and sighed, meeting your same decibel as he filled the condom he had on his cock with his seed. Hs cock twitched and throbbed inside you as he finished, and he dropped his head back into the nook of your neck.
The two of you were breathing heavily at that point. You remained in a puddle on the bed as San got up to take the condom off and properly dispose of it before returning to your side. He wiped his fingers on one of the towels as you finally reopened your eyes to look right into his eyes, still afraid to see the damage done from him fucking you during your period.
"We should get cleaned up, baby," San said. "Why don't I help you?"
San tucked his arms beneath your back and legs, lifting you off the bed. You held onto his shoulders as he walked you to the bathroom.
"Besides," he continued. "We could always go for round two in the shower. Right, baby?"
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firewasabeast · 2 days
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Just thinking about Tommy Kinard who grew up wishing he was hugged and loved like the neighbors kids were. He’d watch them run off the school bus and right into their mom or dad’s arms and be scooped up and held tight. Sometimes he could smell freshly baked cookies or a pot roast coming from their home as he’d turn the key and walk into his own house. His house where his dad would grunt at him for another beer and tell him to fix them both a frozen dinner (“just don’t eat my Salisbury steak, boy, that one’s mine”). Then one afternoon, when his dad caught him staring out the window at the neighbors all outside playing catch, he gave him a smack on the back of the head and told him to stop daydreaming. Those people were phonies who were never up to any good. Families like that don’t really exist, and they’re never as happy as they seem!
So Tommy buries away the idea he’ll have that. Stops watching the neighbors. Rolls his eyes when he does happen to catch one of their hugs. Grows a bit of a hardened shell.
Then he reaches high school and he thinks things will change now. He’ll have more freedom and friends and maybe he’ll join a club. But his dad tells him clubs are for sissies and he’s gonna be in sports instead. His dad is good friends with the football coach so he doesn’t have to try out. He’s just on the team, whether he likes it or not. And the other guys on the team are crude and constantly taunt and tease each other. Tommy doesn’t join in at first, would rather keep to himself, but that makes him an outcast and a loser and the butt of all their jokes so it’s easier to join in. His shell gets a little thicker.
Recruiters come to the school during his senior year and his grades are good, he could probably get a scholarship or two to a state university, but they promise so much. He’ll get to see the world! They have all these specialized programs he can choose from. They pay well and he’ll have the benefits forever. Most importantly, he’ll be away from his dad. The recruiter doesn’t have to work very hard that day. When Tommy leaves for basic he’s a little scared but mostly excited to be away! And the drill sergeants yell at him and taunt him just like the football team, just like his dad, but he can take it. He can and does prove them wrong.
He’s been wondering things about himself lately. Doesn’t let himself wonder very long though, or his heart races a bit too fast and he panics. There was this one time at basic where he had a moment alone and he jerked himself off but he didn’t use the Playboy magazines the other guys had hidden under their bunks. He thinks of Tyler instead. The guy who was in the bunk above him and had tan skin and muscles all over and a million dollar smile. When he was done, after he caught his breath, he got angry with himself. Put a fist through a wall and got in a good amount of trouble. But the other guys thought he did it because he wanted to show the sergeant how strong he was. They thought it was funny and kinda cool. Even later, as a pilot in Iraq, when he has a moment alone, he’s never thinking about a woman. His shell thickens more.
Then he’s out of the army and he’s becoming a firefighter and he thinks maybe this is when he can relax. So he goes and meets his captain, someone named Vincent Gerrard, and he can tell within thirty seconds of meeting him that this man is a carbon copy of his father. He hasn’t been the butt of a joke in a long time, and he sure as hell isn’t going to start back now, so he plays the game. And he plays it damn well.
These shells keep thickening and thickening until he’s not actually sure who he is anymore. He’s spent years being whoever he needs to be to survive and it’s becoming exhausting. Even when Gerrard leaves and Nash arrives, even when his smile actually starts to reach his eyes, he still feels wrong. So he makes a choice. He leaves.
He goes back to flying, which he loved in the army. The freedom of being in the sky was unlike anything else in life. He hears a coworker talk about therapy and he gives it a try. It’s uncomfortable and stressful but he goes back each week and yeah, okay, maybe it does help. He can feel his posture relaxing a bit at least.
He allows himself to be honest with himself. He looks in the mirror one night and takes a deep breath and says the words “I’m gay” for the first time and then he repeats it over and over and over again even as tears fall down his face.
All the shells are starting to crack.
He gets a call from Howie, who he would do anything for without question, and this particular ask gets him reacquainted with Hen, renewed friendship with Howie, a new friendship with Eddie, and a boyfriend with Evan.
Evan. Evan who meets Tommy at the door whenever he’s there, arms open and a smile on his face, ready to hold onto Tommy like it’s his job. There’s usually delicious food cooking that Tommy can smell from the driveway. Evan, who picks up Christopher or Jee and they head to the park or museum for an outing. Evan, who notices that Tommy really likes to draw so he joins a drawing club for the both of them and even though Evan himself is not great at drawing he’s always so excited for them to go together.
Evan, whose kisses linger on his body like a prayer. Whose touch burns his skin in the best way. Who gasps and grunts and grabs and whispers in his ear as their sweaty, muscular bodies practically meld into one. There’s laughter and smiles afterward, as they hold onto each other and fall asleep pressed against one another.
Evan, who makes loving easy to do. Who gives his whole heart and then some. Who breaks whatever was left of Tommy’s shell and makes him realize that the type of love he wanted all those years ago, even as a little kid, was real. It was possible. And he had it.
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justatypicalwizard · 2 days
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Katsuki doesn't believe in love at first sight
Katsuki never believed in love at first sight. How could someone meet eyes and feel as if a thunder ruptured down from the skies and struck them? To love someone means to accept every part of them and to be able to incorporate them into your everyday life. It means building a brand new everyday with that person.
In order to do so you need to know a lot about them. Who they are, what are their plans for the future, what is their character and so on. Then you need to see if you are compatible in many spheres. You need to invite them to your friends group to see if it’ll hit off, you should try living together, they need to get to know your parents.
There are simply so many things to check off the list in order to be able to say you love someone. Otherwise it’s just empty words. I love you here and there. I love you for a week. I love you when you do as I please. Bullshit.
Mina constantly pestered Katsuki that his definition of love feels more like a chore or a job interview than like something a human would be able to accomplish. It wasn’t his fault he had some standards everyone else seemed to lack.
So even now Katsuki doesn’t like to admit that he fell in love at first sight, because it wasn’t the first time when he looked at you.
A quiet ping of his phone tore him out of his work. A new message from someone he didn’t recognise. Without much thought he opened the text.
[Hi, you may not know me but we go to the same lecture on Wednesday at 1 PM. I heard you have neat notes and wanted to ask if it wouldn’t be a problem if you send me today’s ones. I  got sick and couldn’t come and I wouldn’t want to fall behind with the material. Thanks!]
Geez, was there a longer way to type it? Couldn’t you just write: can you give me notes? On the other hand he always complained about people being douchebags.
Clicking onto your profile Katsuki saw a cheesy photo and a few posts from your daily life and vacations. Nothing much to be honest. Yet, he could vaguely remember your face around the people who entered the lecture hall. It won’t hurt to help.
[Sure]
[File attached]
Pushing his phone to the far end of his desk he went back to work. A few minutes later there was another quiet ding and this time Katsuki felt irritation bubbling inside him. It was you once again.
[Thank you so much!]
[I owe you]
[If you ever need anything feel free to write]
Whatever.
It only took a week for Katsuki to be indeed looking for help from someone. Once in a while, during his hero training, he was forced to pair up with someone in order to work on his rescue skills. Usually they’d use dummies but some fucktard in the course planning team decided that it would be most helpful if the students could train with a real human.
Normally Katsuki would ask Mina. He’d swallow his pride and force himself to listen to her babbling for two hours. Just to get it done. Unfortunately, Mina dumped him today, leaving only a [sorry, not feeling well, find someone else]. Damned flu season.
Who was he supposed to ask now, Denki?
As he scrolled down his chats, your profile pic flew by making Katsuki halt.
If you ever need anything feel free to write.
Screw it, you said it yourself, might as well find a person already and move on with his day. He typed a quick explanation and pushed the send button. The day was nearing the afternoon when you responded.
[Sure, if it’s two hours I can make it. Send me when and where I should be]
He shrugged and gave you the address for today's training.
In the early evening Katsuki found himself trotting towards his usual fighting ground absentmindedly. He was thinking about something related to work at Miruko’s when the idea flew out of his head. You were there, he could see you from afar, walking in circles in front of the main door.
Were you an idiot? It was the middle of winter and the early evening cold tore through layers of warm coats to sink into your bones. Why weren’t you entering the building to warm up a bit.
That’s why Katsuki is so stubborn about the whole love at first sight thing. It certainly wasn’t that exact moment when his heart skipped a beat because of you. You were shivering, hiding your chin and red tinted cheeks deeper into the collar of your winter coat. When you spotted him you reached out a gloved hand and waved.
“What the fuck are you doing outside, get in there or you’ll catch another cold.” He persisted, ushering you towards the entrance.
“Wow, good evening to you too.” You looked at him from under your woollen hat, surprised to get yelled at first thing you see him. Though, you did hear the upcoming pro-hero Dynamite, who went to the same lecture as you, was rather intense. “I don’t know, this place just looks fancy. Didn’t want to stand inside like a dumbass not knowing where to go.”
“So you stood outside like a dumbass not knowing where to go.”
“Exactly.”
He let you in and showed you around. After leaving your coat and getting a warm tea (his idea), you were ready to help with his training. The support students and university staff running around asked you to take off any unnecessary piece of clothing such as jewellery or sweaters that could get in the way. You gladly went through with their instructions.
You b-lined another student, a senior support course, who showed you the place where you’d be waiting to be rescued. The spacious arena was moulded into the shape of a city. Some buildings were fine, others rundown as if a villain attack rolled over them. There were paveways and roads, streetlamps and plastic trees. You even spotted a car, though it didn’t look like it could take off anytime soon. 
“It will look the same over and over. You sit or lie down in the place where I leave you and wait for your hero.” Your guide briefed the rules. “And every time pick out a different scenario and tie the band in the place that is put on it.” He handed you a dozen of ribbons with small notes attached to them. The first one you grabbed read: broken arm (tie around elbow).
“Sure.” You nodded your head and he left you on the second floor of a wannabe office building. There were a few chairs scattered around and a table that had a weird bite mark on it. You obediently wrapped the band around your arm and sat down on the floor, waiting.
You wondered how it’ll be, to get fake rescued. You were never in such a situation, always watching the villains from the comfort of your TV rather than first hand. What was Dynamite’s quirk? Suddenly you felt stupid for not knowing. On the other hand, you were never up to date with new heroes and all the popularity polls or colourful magazines. Guess you’d just have to wait and see.
Katsuki didn’t leave you for long. You were counting the pieces of shattered glass beneath your feet when a series of explosions passed beside the building. The small pieces you were meticulously adding shook and you let out a squeak when something heavy hit the wall behind you.
“Shut up, it's me.” Craning your neck, you saw Dynamite’s face, upside down, looking at you. He was halfway through the window. “What have you got?”
“God, you scared me.” You chuckled but quickly shut your mouth. The guide asked you to play the best victim you can. Victims shouldn’t laugh.
Dynamite hopped in front of you and crouched to read the note attached to your elbow. He mumbled something in the lines of fucking scenario and looked you straight in the eye.
“I’m gonna get you out of here.”
There wasn’t anything dramatic going on, it was even quiet outside save for a few shouts here and there. Yet, there was just something in a bulked man looking at you and promising you protection, one secured by his own arms. You felt like the guy from the firefighters video.
You couldn’t stop the giggle at the thought.
“What the fuck are you laughing at?” Dynamite spat.
“Nothing, nothing.” You shook your hands in front of your still laughing face. “Oh shit, this one’s supposed to be broken. Okay, just save me already.” You really fought with the snicker but the cheesiness and awkwardness of the whole situation had you in a chokehold.
“Whatever.” The hero sighed, visibly annoyed, and scooped you into his hands like a sack of potatoes. “I’ll need you to wrap your legs around me. Push the broken arm into my chest and use your healthy one to hold onto me.”
You did as instructed and glued yourself to him as tight as you could. He still held you with one of his arms and just when you started to wonder how the two of you would get down from the second floor he jumped out of the window.
A scream escaped your lips but it was muffled by a loud explosion.
For the next two hours you flew through the air in Dynamite’s hands over and over again. He held you in different ways, depending on your supposed injury, but every time you landed into the safe zone, you realised you were the first or nearly the first. That guy was quick like hell.
The last scenario rolled over and it was a panic attack. You were supposed to be physically fine but otherwise unresponsive and difficult to work with due to your shock. Dynamite tried to take extra steps to calm you down, speaking about how he’ll take you to safety and how it will all be over in a second. It looked like he was having a hard time.
“I need to touch you to take you somewhere safe.” He said, wrapping one of his hands around you.
When you were both at the safe zone, with cardboard paramedics to take care of you, Dynamite did something different. Instead of leaving you in the place where the group of injured would grow, he carried you straight to the ambulance.
“She has a panic attack.” He said to the empty fake vehicle and you just couldn’t take any more of it. You erupted in a fit of laughter. Your body shook in his hands and you gripped the X on his uniform to steady yourself. “What the fuck?”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” You tried to explain but the laughter squeezed your throat. “I’m a shitty actor.”
“I see that.” Dynamite grumbled.
“Do you really need to talk to cardboard people and empty vehicles for two hours every week?” You asked, wiping a tear from your cheek.
“Is it really that fucking funny?”
“No, no! I get it.” You finally calmed down, letting go of the front of his costume. “It’s not that funny, maybe a bit but not that much. I think I’m just in a good mood.” You shrug your shoulders. “It was fun, flying with you, like a free rollercoaster ride.” You gave him a big, big smile. A big genuine smile. A big, genuine, lovely smile, with your eyes closed and teeth out and cheeks tinted pink.
People are stupid. That’s what Katsuki thinks. It’s not love at first sight. It’s love because of a single sight.
Even though Katsuki came to some fundamental conclusions in the topic of love he would get all defensive and intense when he was asked about how the two of you met. It would sound way better if he could say the two of you met, then started to talk more, then went on a date and agreed to meet each other and so on. He just felt so stupid, so awkward and silly when he had to admit that all it took for you was a single smile to make his heart skip a beat.
The worst part? It felt a little pathetic honestly, as if people never smiled at him, but truthly they didn’t, not like that. Not like you.
Katsuki still doesn’t believe in love at first sight. Yet, every other piece of his meticulously calculated equation of love was torn down and rewritten, all of which he gladly took.
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eupheme · 2 days
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Your best friend Wade who always jokingly flirts with you the way he flirts with everyone - and you hate it because you have a real genuine crush on him and the flirting doesn’t mean anything… does it? It has to take a mutual friend to be like “oh my god he’s in love with you and doesn’t know how to tell you, so that’s why he’s always joking about boners” (please and thank u ilu 😌)
omg avo this kicked my ass, the amount of pining for Wade as he (jokingly, you think) flirts with you would be off the charts 🥲💖 I wrote a little drabble with how that might go, I love you and your ideas - thanks so much for sending this to me!!!
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— cause every time we touch (i get this feeling)
best friend!wade wilson x mutant!reader
<1k | flirting, dirty jokes, heaps of pining
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Blow job. Leg Spreader. Slippery Nipple. Liquid Viagra. Sex on the Pool Table. Pink Silk Panties.
Each time Wade comes into Sister Margaret’s - which is four or five times a week - he asks for dirtier and more obscure drinks.
"Wishful thinking", he tells you, each time.
Even with the roll of your eyes, you have to admit that it keeps you on your toes. That you look forward to seeing your best friend so often - tamping down the jolt in your belly, night after night.
Reminding yourself that yes, he got you this job, but he's not here to see you.
That this always was his spot.
It had been an easy sell. Used to working overnight shifts - security, back then. After the disaster with Weasel, they had been desperate for a replacement. Wade had come to you immediately, dropping to his knees as you opened the door.
Winning you over with a "you could literally get paid to hang out with me. How is this not a win-win-win? How is this not your dream job?"
And here, you didn't have to hide what or who you were. Reading feelings and intent were a bonus, when a handshake could tell you everything you needed to know. Their feelings spilled as easily as they were written, when you were negotiating contracts.
It also helped in-house. A human lie detector. Able to break up fights, settle arguments. A party trick, when things got slow. The regulars trying to get things past you - tales based in truth spun tall, seeing when you'd catch them.
Wade never plays, but you think that's because you know him so well.
And what seems like a sell, quickly evolves into more. Warping, as days pass. Spending more time with a crush sounds tempting, on paper.
The reality is something else.
Yes, there is a seat saved for him at the bar. Literally saved - his name scrawled across the vinyl, and you still haven't been able to scrub it out. Stopping by at all hours to chit chat.
Teasing you - how he's "so glad he doesn't have to stalk you at your old job anymore". An over-the-top sigh about being relieved that you're safe now - in your new job, surrounded by mercs.
Begging for the best job. Puppy-dog eyes. Fake coupons for favors that would make a sinner blush. Crossing his heart that you could have anything, and he means anything you wanted, if he could only get "that thing involving the murder clowns".
It's enough to make you hope.
Later, at home - in the early hours as you're pulled under. Replaying his comments. The filthy jokes and the shameless flirting - wondering if that's all they were.
Wondering if he'd be waiting for you tomorrow, perched on his stool.
But there's the downfall.
You see him - but you also see him with everyone else.
The charming smiles. Head thrown back in a laugh as he works the room. A friend to all, and as you watch him - perched on the knee of a goddess of mercenary as he yaps away, you can't help the swift current of jealousy.
Of foolishness.
It's enough that you're almost regretting agreeing.
Your mood is sullen, as you wipe down glasses. Trying to ignore the ache when you see him flirt. That realization that the something special you thought he had with you, might just be a part of his personality.
And when Dopinder shuffles from the back with more ice for the chiller behind the bar, it only takes one look at you before he's sighing.
"Not again. Please, I am begging you. I cannot take more of your yearning.”
Your lips quirk. Hadn't realized you'd become that obvious. He'd become your go-to, in the long hours you spend together behind the bar. Pinkie-promising not to say a word - but you always thought you'd had a decent handle on your expressions.
"We don't have to talk about it." Your hands raise, placating, "Just let me yearn in peace. I'll get over it."
"You know that almost half of what DP makes a month is funneled back in here, right?" He gives you a long look, "Before you, I saw him once a week. I had to beg him to come get his paycheck."
Doubt still lingers.
"Doesn't mean anything," You shrug - eyes dropping, as you help him restock.
"You do not think Mr. Pool worships the ground you walk on?"
The intensity of his question has you side-eying him, "I mean... I don't think he sees me that way. He acts the same with me as he does with everyone."
“Sure.” He huffs, leaning against the bartop, just as Wade plunks down in the seat in front of you.
“God, I haven’t been over here in like-,” Wade checks a fake watch, “Fifteen minutes? Feels like longer. Felt like a fucking hour.”
Pivoting back and forth on the stool as he adds, “Is it possible for people to get separation anxiety? Or is that just dogs? Is this how Dogpool feels when I’m gone?”
You just manage to catch the last bit, as Dopinder slips away.
“Exactly the same.”
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Tonight, Wade is the first person that sits down in front of you for the game.
A frown, as you peel off your gloves - your barrier, to the outside world.
His own already bare - sliding back-and-forth over his suit-clad thighs. You'd mistake it for nerves, if you weren't so sure Wade had never been nervous in his life.
"What's your story, Wilson?" You ask, "Hope you brought something good."
"Oh, it's a whopper. A real fucking doozy. Apparently, you're not gonna believe it. " His laugh is a little too loud, and your eyes narrow, "But let's give it a whirl, okay?"
There's a flicker, behind the bar. A sideways look towards the bar, where Dopinder's hands cover his face. You don't need to touch him to read the guilt written across his features - the way he almost flinches, under your glare.
You're going to fucking kill him.
The sound of your name brings you back.
“Ready to play?”
Wade's hands rest face-up on the table - an offering. For once in his life he almost looks serious, and it’s enough to bring you back.
A breath - before you align your own. Letting them drop down, skin mapping against skin for the first time.
It floods through you.
The lick of heat that almost feels like a caress. A deep yearn that causes your own heart to twinge, layering with the feeling of need. Desire. Want.
It's familiar. It mirrors something deep inside, something that’s become as much a part of you as flesh and bone.
Oh.
A laugh slips from you, breaking the beat of silence. Relief tinged with disbelief - your smile stretching wide.
“Yeah?” You breathe, softening.
“Yeah.” He laughs, “Thought I was being obvious. But you are pound-cake dense, apparently.”
Hands flipping over, to entwine between yours. Letting that feeling inside him linger, settling warm and comforting over your bare skin.
“But I like that about you.” Another huff of a laugh, “Like all of you, really. Always have.”
It makes your heart ache. In a way that finally feels full, feels right - instead of the near-agony you’ve been bearing for weeks.
Only you could be such an idiot.
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thanks for reading! 💖
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andcars · 3 days
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# 𝗙𝗖𝟰𝟯 ─── MAKE IT UP OFF-TRACK MASTERLIST . . . REQUEST ME . . . TAGLIST . . . AO3
YOU'VE RACED WITH HIM AND you've been under him. still, it hurts you when he outqualifies you. it almost hurts as much when you both still think you're just fuck buddies. ────── original prompt req.
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PROMPTED DIALOGUE . . . # “You’ve been staring for a while” PROMPTED TAGS . . . # praise kink, rivalry, friends with benefits, jealousy ADD. TAGS . . . # quickie vibes, sex in the hospitality, author has a language kink, but also deepl translations WORD COUNT. . . # 1.6k
────── AO3 VERSION
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P11. Fucking P11.
Everyone else is in the garage as you come in, all angry and disappointed. You were tenth of a second behind P10 and you weren't able to push it on the last lap because you went off track limits.
What’s done is done. You can’t work with a car that clearly doesn't wanna work with you. The better part of you wants to let this go and simply rest for tomorrow. Call it a day. Think of how to dominate tomorrow. Sleep it off.
But Franco walks to the garage at P7 and proceeding into Q3. The plan gets thrown away immediately.
You don’t hate the guy, of course not. You’ve met him times before when he was still in F2. If, of course, meeting him included hotel rooms and secluded bathrooms. You met him a lot, if so.
It’s not his fault that he’s better than you, as of now. You should be happy, really. But fuck, it should hurt how some rookie is better than you in a car you’ve driven for a year.
Despite all of this anger bubbling in you, you can’t stay mad at him. You could never stay mad at him, you think. Yet it hurts all the same.
You look away as your eyes meet. Not giving him a chance to even confront you or attempt to comfort you, you leave.
It’s pivotal now to talk with your strategist. He’s expecting you, unfortunately. Knowing damn well that your next duty was to come to him to see how to improve your performance, he already had your data pulled up.
Your, and their, wrongs are being talked into your ear and out the other. The farthest screen turns black, and you see Franco in the reflection. His blurred figure is towards you, his panting from the race still evident on him.
It’s difficult to pretend to care about racing right now. It’s not like they say anything different anyway. The rear wings are fucked, the tyres are fucked, the wheel can’t turn, and your head is just in the wrong direction. All the same things said before.
To the driver’s room you go. Q3 starts and you don’t do anything. The TV screen shows the delayed race as the crowd cheers from the opposite sides of the wall. Franco is in danger, with Mercedes finally coming out from the pit—you don’t expect anything more.
After the stretched minutes alone in your room, a knock comes on your door.
You say, “I’ll be out soon, tell James to get some patience,” with your head in your phone. No fucking way you’re going to be dealing with them while you’re still pissed.
The door opened and you grunt. Looking up, Franco was grinning at you.
“I’m also hiding from Jego,” he says, the grin on his face annoying, “can I come in?”
“And we both get caught?” It doesn’t matter what you think, he puts his feet in anyway.
The couch is uncomfortable. If they aren’t spending money on the car, they might as well spend it on the seats. With you laying across the couch, he kneels between your legs. You raise an eyebrow at him as he undresses his fireproof suit.
You ask, “You seriously wanna fuck?” and he laughs.
“¿Me dirás que no? (Will you tell me no?)” he murmurs, getting on top of you with his hips pressing against your ass. “Did you know I placed 6th today?”
“Mhm.”
“No?” He places a kiss on your cheek. “Didn’t watch me? What were you doing in here?”
His lips ghost over your neck, the warmth of his breath sending a small shiver down your fine. You know he felt it when he chuckles in your skin.
“Getting fucked my brains out,” your voice is flat. “What were you doing out there?”
“Ah, amor (love), you won’t get me like that,” he whines and kisses you once in one side. Then twice the other. He says, “You are so mean though, telling me things like this. Do you wish you were with someone else? Hm? ¿No me querés más? (You don’t want me any more?)”
Franco comes up to part your lips open with his tongue. You gasp a little, your arm limp over his back. His mouth wide open, chest pressed against yours, tongue just brushing against your lips, he says—
“Quiero coger. Te quiero comer a besos. Quiero que me hagas tuyo, mi amor. Don’t go making me jealous because you are.” (I want to fuck you. I want to lavish you with kisses. I want you to make me yours, my love)
His hand is gentle on yours, playing on the hem of your pants as his kisses turn wet. Desperate. Loving. It hurts you how careful he is with you when you spent the past hour hating him in your head.
And he’s always so gentle. He always used to ask you if you liked it, his words almost always in Spanish. As if he’s lost in you, he doesn’t know what words to use.
He no longer needs your permission now. A finger rubs between your clothed cunt as his hand pushes your shirt up to hold your tits. He moans more than you, in love with your body.
“So good,” he murmurs, “don’t ever look for anyone else. For me, please?” You moan against his cheek as he focuses on rubbing your clit through your pants. “I can make you feel so good. Amor, I can be yours.”
In moments like this, he’s too drunk on sex to know the words he’s spewing. He reaches for the lube and condom hidden in your desk. His movements are sloppy. You swear he struggles a little in opening the cap up.
He asks you something in Spanish. It’s out of your vocabulary, so you tilt your head.
“I don’t need to prepare you, right? You’re still loose?” You can see his hips grinding against the palm of his hand. His cheeks are flushed, and you see drool coming down his chin. It’s pitiful.
You nod. “Yeah, just give me a bit to adjust if you wanna—fucking hell.” It’s out of your control when you laugh. Franco eagerly shoves his pants down alongside yours.
“What has gotten you so eager?” you ask.
“I got P6,” he smirks. That little fucker.
His cock is rubbered and wet when it enters you. He moans loud as your hand comes to his cheek. It’s catlike, the way he goes soft against your hold.
Shifting slowly, he grinds inside of you. The soft rubbing inside your walls almost has you mewling. But you keep your eyes on him, ignoring the pooling pleasure between your legs.
Telling him, “You’ve been looking at me,” has his lips pouting. “If I didn’t know better, I would say you were in love with me.”
“I am in love with you,” your cheeks flush, and you’re not sure if it’s the sudden thrust of his cock or his words. “I’m in love with the way you race, how you over-perform a dying car, how you move.”
His eyes drop to where you two meet, jittering his hips a little. With the quick thrusts, you’re caught off guard and moaning out his name. He looks very satisfied with it.
“Oh, amor—” his words turn gibberish to you as he starts to move. His pace is uneven, driven by the thought to take you carefully and the urge to bring the both of you to climax. Not a single word is getting into your head.
But his voice is so loving. He’s panting between every other word, lips pouted and eyebrows furrowed. His voice is getting louder, and you put your hand against his mouth.
“Shut - oh, God… Shut up,” you whine, feeling the cockhead rub against your g-spot. “You’re so fucking… good. Just like that, fuck me.”
He shuts up when he goes down to kiss you. Both his arms wrap around you, embracing you as he finds the right angle to make sure you’re still getting stimulated. His hair is rubbing against your clit, the little tickle in them getting you to moan a little louder.
You feel dizzy. It’s not the lack of air during the kiss, you know it. He’s just holding you close to him while he takes you like you’re his lover. Your heart curls in itself, punishing itself for its own stupidity.
But fuck, you want to focus on the now. The way his hands are going up and down your back, soothing you as you get lost in the pace of his thrusts. The way his body towers over you, completely enveloping you in his hold. 
“I’m gonna—” he gasps, his pace barely slowing as you assume he cums inside of you. You whine when he bottoms inside.
Franco knows you. He knows you too well. He grinds inside of you before pulling out. Still, he doesn’t let you think another thought before he’s flicking your clit.
“Shit, fuck, Franco!” he smiles under your silent praise as his other fingers tease at your hole. “I’m gonna cum too. Just like that. Don’t fucking stop.”
He only leans down to spit on your pussy, easing the rub as you’re moving your hips along him. You cum with your back arched and your hips off the couch. His hand stills on your clit as his eyes are fixated on the way cum leaves your pussy.
You drop back down when he places your hips on his lap. “Don’t get it dirty,” he reminds you, tying the condom and throwing it in the bin. “It’s embarrassing to explain to the cleaners.”
His humour comes in at the worst moments. You grunt and he only laughs. “It’s not even funny. You’re just telling the truth.”
“It’s funnier in Spanish,” he promises.
You think about how it probably sounds just about the same.
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🗒 𝗣𝗔𝗣𝗘𝗥 𝗧𝗥𝗔𝗜𝗟 . . . first time writing for bro ! i'm so open to writing more of him so i added him in my taglist options, so if you wanna be tagged for future fics of him 👀 you know what to do . if you already sent me a form before , you can resend another with him included ! anyways , fixing up the next few fics soon . ˎˊ˗ ᝰ. ──── 📨 @delululeclerc @hiireadstuff
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you support me best on tumblr with reblogs and comments ! ── by andcars ⟡
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evilgwrl · 1 day
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Super in love with your work it's amazing.
So I had this idea maybe you'd like? Just an idea: Do with it what you will
So reader is a coworker with Simon, and she's like super strong-willed, doesn't take bullshit from anyone type person, good at what she does and knows it, and Simon fucking loves that, loves a woman that can put someone in their place. He thinks it's just respect at first, but one day, he sees her yelling at some recruits and gets so turned on from the sight that he can't think of anything else.
Interested with what you might do with it or how you'd continue it if you decide to write it
Have a nice rest or your day either way
I love this!!
CW: Military inaccuracies, Ghost gets boners for you, sexual tensions and allusions to further smut but nothing graphic
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They called you Hawk due to your impeccable eyesight. You were hard-headed with a vast efficiency to pinpoint a target miles away, your bullet already penetrating the air before others could even see it. You were a quick fit into the Task Force with a shabby sense of humour and ability to take control.
Working in a male-dominated industry should’ve scared you, but it didn’t. You were a whirlwind on your feet, easily able to toggle areas and courses without even a remote struggle. You thrived at what you did, constantly garnering respect from those around you. Maybe that’s why Ghost was so intrigued by you.
He tied it down to a “respect thing”, enjoying that a woman was able to put anyone in their place no matter the size of who she was dealing with. That’s why he was slightly confused at the growing bulge in his cargo pants.
Your face was contorted in frustration, tangled eyebrows furrowed as you yelped commands at a group of soldiers. Your hands were resting on your hips, a scowl on your face as you groaned.
“Private Matthews, did I or did I not say that you should never take your eye off an opponent?”
“You did, ma’am.”
“You will refer to me as Sergeant, private,” you snapped, “Get back in the ring and do it correctly this time.”
Ghost adjusted, turning his attention back to the group of soldiers before him, barking out his own orders, umber eyes occasionally darting over to you, entranced at how simple it was for you to command.
You were seated next to Soap, ass flush on the seat as you grumbled about how idiotic some people were, bragging about how certain you were that you were never there incompetent.
“Aye, lass, can’t all be like you, can we?”
You nudged the Scotsman’s shoulder, offering him a toothy smile as you went on to joke around. Ghost watched you as he approached, looking at the way your eyes were always high, never stooping to the ground with discomfort. You smiled as the Lieutenant joined you, missing the way his eyes racked over you.
“Bonnie here was just saying she could easily tackle you in a shuttle run, LT,” Soap joshed, earning you an eye roll.
“That so?” Ghost’s voice was naturally loud, a deep husk protruding from every word as he looked at you. You shrugged, tossing him a teasing smirk.
“Won’t know until we find out, will we Lieutenant?”
Ghost could feel himself straining again, pants tightening at your display of confidence before you excused yourself, muttering about hitting the gym to wear you out. Ghost was quick to follow, scoffing down the remainder of his food and rushing out a goodbye before heavy feet were trailing behind you.
You were clad in a loose pair of gym shorts, a well-fitted green singlet sporting against your skin as gloved fists pummelled a punching bag. You were quick, feet skidding against the ground as you huffed out shallow breaths.
“You have good form,” Ghost spoke, clearing his throat.
You turned around, hair swishing in a messy pony as you looked at him, brow raised, “Did you doubt me, Lieutenant?”
“Unsure. Never sparred with you, ‘ave I, Hawk?”
“You asking to spar with me, Ghost?”
He rolled his eyes as you walked up to him, a cocky smirk on your face as you got into position. You were both quick, entangled limbs battering against one another as you both ducked, blurting out expletives as your clothes moulded with trickles of sweat.
Ghost was practically mesmerised by the way you moved, somehow making sparring look elegant. The Lieutenant knocked you to your feet, your body crashing onto the ground with a slam as you groaned, staring up at him with irked eyes.
“Didn’t anyone warn you to take it easy on a lady?” You miffed; your face contorted with annoyance as you glared at him.
Ghost frowned slightly, taking in your pained expression before he was knocked between the ankles, joining you on the ground as you giggled out a laugh, clambering on top of him with a finger gun pointed to his head.
“Shouldn’t underestimate your opponents, LT, no matter how annoyed they look.”
Ghost let out a grunt as he flipped the two of you over, your hands pinned above your head. “Never underestimated you, sweet’art.”
Your bodies radiated heat, thick smog of tension pummelling into the atmosphere as your eyes interlocked. You licked your lip, forehead wet with salty moisture as you maintained composure.
“You gonna keep me like this all night, Lieutenant?” Your tone was sultry, wringing him in with every syllable as he pressed against you, growing bulge prominent against your clothed sex as you glanced down.
“Thinking about it.”
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ashherahh · 2 days
Text
what was your past life like together?
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Note: Please take it if it resonates, leave it if it doesn't. Meditate before making your decision. It's completely okay if you don't resonate with this reading. The collective is huge and I'm sure you'll receive the messages you need in due time.
🌕paid readings are open🌕
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pile 1
Cards: Four of Swords, The Lovers, The Fool Rx, Eight of Pentacles, The Devil, Temperance
You've shared a significant past life with this person. The connection was consuming in every possible way.
With this life, you feel like you might have a second chance again. In your past life, you and this person had planned to be together until death, to grow old together but it never got to that. Unfortunately, the person you feel so drawn to died before the two of you could live out your dream.
The urgency you feel to be with them, to speak to them, to always know about their days; it all stems from a longing a lifetime over.
You're perfect counterparts for each other, you match. Ying and Yang. At times, you feel like you're losing yourself in this person, that there is a darkness to this connection. Partially, you want to remove yourself from this. It feels so crazy, right? These feelings at times feel so foreign. They are remnants of a past love that never got to fully bloom.
Being with them would be like riding a bike, it'll be so easy and like you never stopped. It's entirely up to you how you want to proceed, sometimes we just need closure but if you want more, understand that you need balance in this relationship. Although you balance each other out, both of you are just as capable of creating an equal chaos.
Balance within is needed before anything else. To become lost in someone else, it's a prison we're often unaware of until it's too late.
pile 2
Cards: Three of Cups, The Emperor, The Moon Rx, Four of Wands Rx, Strength, The Star
They were your saviour.
In your past life with them, their presence alone brought an end to a horrible experience. In a way, you were kept from ever being yourself. You were always in the shadow of those around you. When you met this person, you stepped out of that shadow, you shed away the doubt and fear, and stepped into who you are.
They were a mentor, a companion, someone you could always depend on to see you and understand you. In turn, you were able to understand yourself and you were able to blossom.
To this day, you still feel this connection. You still experience how protective they are. This person still makes an effort to let you know how amazing they think you are. You can always count on them.
When you met them in this life, you were immediately comfortable with them. You immediately felt like you could be vulnerable, against your better judgement, you felt yourself feeling so at ease with them.
This is the kind of connection you'll experience in every incarnation. Even if they don't reincarnate with you, they will still be a guide of yours. They want to protect you and see you flourish, and so they'll be there anyway they can and anyway you need them to be.
pile 3
Cards: The World Rx, The Tower Rx, The Sun, Ace of Swords, Nine of Pentacles, Six of Cups
Your connection was tampered with in your past life.
There was upheaval and chaos and everything was at odds with your connection. Every time you tried to move forward together, you would find yourself being pulled away from them. Your past life with them took place during a time of war so there was never closure, but the feelings you had for each other have carried on into this life.
I'm seeing that in your past life, the two of you knew each other since a young age and in this life as well, you met as children again. There's the desire to spend as much time with one another as you possibly can.
This person is a soulmate, definitely. It felt like this connection in a past life was just never meant to be so the longing is still very much there. I'm really seeing that a lot got in the way of this connection. It seemed like the world was against it. How heartbreaking.
This life is an opportunity for a new beginning with this person, one where you both build the life you want. This person is going to be your best friend, someone your inner child feels comfortable and safe with.
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waaayoutofline · 3 days
Text
Like Seeing A Ghost.
Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader
Prompt: Married life and family core.
Summary: Your teenage daughter changed styles, and you cant help but be remained of a certain someone.
Warnings: None. Just love and fluff.
WORD COUNT: 1490
AN: I wrote this under the wonderful influence of sleep depravation. I just corrected it grammatically. It’s the first time I have written a family related prompt, so sorry but it’ll probably be a bit cringey :´). YDN stands for: Your daughters name btw—
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It was a quiet day in the Maximoff household, a rare sense of calm settling over the space. Humming softly, you switched off the vacuum and put it away, satisfied with the tidiness of the room. The peaceful silence was soon interrupted by the doorbell, drawing your attention with mild curiosity. “I’ve got it!” you called, making your way to the door. You didn’t need to check the peephole, you already knew who it was. “Darling, finally! Your mother is almost finished with—oh dear gods.”
You froze as your 16-year-old daughter stepped inside. Taking in her appearance, your eyes widened in surprise. She shifted uncomfortably under your gaze, clearly bracing herself for the reaction that didn’t come as quickly as she expected.
Gone were her typical morning clothes, replaced by a more alternative look. She wore an oversized black t-shirt featuring an old rock band, her arms covered in fishnet sleeves, fingers adorned with silver rings and chains. Her makeup, though still a work-in-progress, was heavy with black eyeliner and smudged dark red eyeshadow. A silver cross dangled from her freshly pierced ear. She completed the outfit with a mid-length skirt and red Converse sneakers. If it weren’t for her eyes—the same color as yours—you might not have recognized her at first. But even then, the look wasn’t unfamiliar. She resembled someone else you knew all too well.
“It’s… it’s—” you began, voice faltering. Your daughter braced herself even more, her posture defiant, though you could see flickers of uncertainty in her expression. That defiant stance finally broke your composure.
“It’s like seeing a ghost! Oh, my beautiful girl,” you exclaimed, bursting into delighted laughter. “It’s like going back in time. Wanda, darling, come here, please!” you called out, grinning at the uncanny resemblance.
Your heart swelled with nostalgia and amusement. You never thought you’d see such a familiar look on your own child, yet here she was, carrying a piece of the past into the present.
“What is it, love? Is it Y/D/N? I made her favorite,” Wanda called, wiping her hands with a kitchen towel before stopping abruptly. “Oh wow. This is… definitely a surprise.”
Your daughter, tired of the mixed reactions from both of you, crossed her arms defensively. “Before you say anything—no, I didn’t get any piercings or tattoos. But this is how I want to dress from now on. And if you have any issues with it, then…”
Your eyes softened at the sight of her defiance fading into vulnerability. You glanced at Wanda, who nodded. “Darling, you don’t owe us any explanations,” she said gently.
“I… don’t?” Y/D/N repeated, tentatively. You took a step forward, resting a reassuring hand on her shoulder.
“Of course not. You know your mom and I want you to discover who you are. All we care about is that you don’t hurt yourself in the process. Why would you think we’d be upset?”
Your daughter’s shoulders relaxed as the tension eased. “A… friend of mine dresses like this, and her parents didn’t take it well. They told her if she didn’t dress ‘normal,’ they’d send her to some creepy summer camp.”
Wanda frowned. “Well, they’re idiots.” Your daughter smiled at that. “They are! Like your mom said, we’ll never judge you for who you are. All we want is for you to be safe and happy.”
With that, she smiled and pulled you both into a hug. “Thanks for being such cool parents.” You exchanged a glance with Wanda and hugged her back.
“I mean… if we weren’t, we’d be total hypocrites.” Your daughter tilted her head in curiosity, prompting a laugh from you as you moved toward the living room.
Wanda scoffed. “Oh, don’t you dare, Y/N,” she warned playfully, following close behind, already anticipating your next move. Before she could stop you, you pulled out the family photo album. Your daughter plopped down next to you on the couch, while Wanda took her place on the armrest, wearing a mock pout.
Flipping through the pages, you found what you were looking for. “Why haven’t I seen this before?” Y/D/N asked, eyes wide with interest.
“These are from years before you were born,” you explained softly, turning the album’s pages with care. “Most were taken when your mother and I first met. We kept them hidden… because she was a little shy about them.”
Wanda playfully nudged your arm, her smile a little bashful. “Do you really have to show them? I’d like for our daughter to still respect me, you know.”
You grinned, glancing at your daughter. “Of course, I do! I mean, just look at her. You two are practically twins—it’s adorable.”
Wanda rolled her eyes, though her blush deepened. “You’re having too much fun with this.”
As you flipped another page, your daughter gasped, eyes widening in disbelief. Wanda’s face turned a deep shade of red as she quickly covered her face with her hands, her embarrassment palpable. You, however, couldn’t stop the grin spreading across your face. “Mom, why didn’t you tell me you were so cool?” Y/D/N exclaimed, her excitement bubbling over as she snatched the album from you, flipping through the pictures like a child on Christmas morning.
“What do you mean “were”?” Wanda huffed in mock offense. “I’m still cool!”
A brief silence followed, punctuated only by Wanda’s playful exasperation. You reached out, squeezing her hand, the warmth of her skin grounding both of you. The resemblance between mother and daughter was striking, as if time had folded in on itself. “That picture,” you said, pointing to a particular one, “was taken around the time I first met your mom. She was this emo, tough, and incredibly intimidating girl—” You started dramatically, glancing at Wanda, who shot you a half-hearted glare.
“Okay, okay, no need to humiliate me further,” Wanda cut in, trying to maintain some shred of dignity.
“Humiliate?” You softened your voice, your eyes meeting hers. “That was the version of you I fell in love with.” You turned another page, your tone warm and nostalgic. “I mean, the whole ‘bad girl’ thing really worked for me.”
“Mom, gross!” Y/D/N laughed, wrinkling her nose in mock disgust.
You nudged her playfully. “Oh, hush. What I’m trying to say is… I fell in love with that Wanda, and every version after her.”
With each page you turned, years passed in the photographs. Different styles, changing haircuts, moments of growth captured in still images. But one thing remained constant—your love.
“…and the next,” you continued quietly. “Because that’s what love is. It’s not about how someone dresses or looks. It’s about loving them for who they are, through every version, and with how they express themselves to the world.”
You closed the album gently and reached for your daughter’s hands, holding them tenderly. “That’s why no matter how you choose to present yourself, it will never change how we feel about you. You are our daughter, and we will always love you—no matter what.” Y/D/N smiled, her eyes bright with relief and understanding. Wanda, still blushing from your words, looked at both of you with so much love that it was almost overwhelming. A sudden thought crossed her mind, her lips curving into a small, playful smile.
“You know,” Wanda began, her voice light, “if you’re interested, I still have some of those clothes.”
Your daughter’s eyes lit up. “No way.”
“Oh yes, way. Why don’t you start by heading up to the attic? I’ll join you in a sec.”
In an instant, your daughter gave Wanda a quick, excited hug before practically running towards the stairs. You and Wanda exchanged a glance, bursting into quiet laughter. As you stood up, Wanda caught you by the waist, pulling you close, her eyes filled with nothing but love. For a moment, the world seemed to shrink down to just the two of you. She leaned in and kissed you, slow and tender.
“Mama! Do you still have that red jacket?” your daughter called from upstairs, breaking the moment. Wanda sighed, chuckling under her breath as she pulled away.
“I do!” Wanda called back, her voice filled with affection. “In fact, that jacket I stole from Auntie Nat!”
Another excited shriek echoed down the stairs, and you both shared a fond look.
“I better go before she tears down the attic,” Wanda said with a small smile, taking a step back.
You nodded, watching her as she began to leave, but she paused at the doorway and turned back, her eyes twinkling mischievously.
“Hey,” she whispered, “I am cool, right?”
A full, hearty laugh escaped you, the sound filling the room with warmth. “Yeah, Wanda. You’re the coolest.”
Wanda grinned, the playful tension melting away as she disappeared up the stairs, leaving you with a heart full of love and a smile that lingered long after she was gone.
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Text
Blood and Affection ~ LMH
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☪WORD COUNT: 1.6K
☪GENRE: established relationships, minho worried about his girlfriend, cute, fluffy, worried minho, mafia au,
☪PAIRING: Mafia!Minhox Fem!Reader
☪Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - September 2024
☪MASTERLIST
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You are in a relationship with Minho, one of the most powerful and feared mafia leaders in Seoul, someone everyone knew never to mess with or lie to which was why you hadn't been surprised when your nurse who was treated you told him where you were.
"Traitor." You whispered to her as you saw his car pulling up in the parking lot. She smirked over at you and shook her head. She, along with everyone else who worked for Minho, had known you a long time.
Your history with Minho ran deep—you were once his top operative, known for your flawless execution of missions and unmatched skill in the field. You'd trained every single day alongside some of the best of the best in the business and you were incredible. Not to toot your own horn anything but you were.
There wasn’t a single task you couldn’t handle, earning you a reputation that made even the most hardened criminals wary of crossing paths with you.
"You knew he was going to find out anyway. I did you a favour." The nurse teased as you rolled your eyes at her playfully. It wasn't anything major. In fact, you felt stupid for it to have even happened in the first place.
You'd been caught completely off guard and left exposed to something that shouldn't have even happened. 
"It's stupid, I wasn't even paying attention." You grumbled more at yourself than the nurse who was with you. But you hated it. How could you have missed something like this? Minho trusted you to be alone without a guard and now you knew that was never going to happen again.
You'd been out in town all morning, taking a rare moment to unwind in town, deciding to treat yourself at the spa and then at the local stores to some new clothes or some books if you'd seen any. But you'd only just left the spar when out of nowhere, you were ambushed by an assailant with a clear intent to kill. 
Though you fought - and incredibly might you add - and managed to eliminate your attacker, you weren’t unscathed. A deep stab wound in your side left you bleeding profusely. The pain had been nearly overwhelming as you'd struggled to stay conscious on the way to the hospital, it was wishful thinking that you could hide it from Minho. The man saw you naked every single night, if you'd somehow managed to hide it from him while your scar healed you'd have a hell of a lot of explaining to do for the new scar when you eventually got naked in front of him again. 
"Everyone has an off day," The nurse reminded you as she applied some cream to your stitches, eventually covering it with a bandage as you sighed a little. All you wanted was to go home and pretend the day hadn't even happened.
"But not everyone's off day is going to lead to them needing an armed guard at all times," You smiled at her and she bit her lip softly and nodded in understanding. As you lay back on the bed, trying to process everything that happened, the door burst open with a loud bang and you watched it vibrate off the wall. Minho, your stoic and usually composed former boss and now current boyfriend, storms in with a frantic look on his face. His eyes, usually so cold and calculating, are now wide with panic.
“Are you okay?! I heard what happened...” His voice cracks slightly as he hurries to your bedside, his usual air of control slipping away. Normally he was well put together and didn't show any kind of emotion since they were usually held against him but with you, he always let them out. 
"Minho, don't make this a big thing." You laugh weakly but he shakes his head at you. You knew asking him not to make a big deal with a lost cause but you'd figured you'd try anyway. Within a second he was on his knees next to you, his hands trembling slightly as he reached for yours, his gaze scanning your bandaged wound with a mixture of fear and fury. The thought of losing you had him on edge, his usual cold demeanour shattered by the raw emotion he feels for you.
Minho glances up at the nurse, his voice laced with tension. The whole way over he'd been panicking about what he was supposed to do now, he'd already called his guys to arrange protection for you.
“What’s her condition? How long until she’s fully recovered? Are you sure she’s getting the best care?” He peppers the nurse with questions, his usual calm replaced with a sense of urgency. Your nurse opened her mouth to speak but was quickly cut off as he pointed to the IV that was inserted into your arm,
“And those painkillers—are they strong enough? I don’t want her in any more pain. Is she going to need to stay overnight?” You stroked his hand gently, the small act calming him down within seconds but you could still see just how on edge he was with this whole thing and you nodded at your nurse.
“She’s stable now, sir. The wound was deep, but she was strong. With rest and proper care, she’ll be okay, she should be able to go home as soon as this round of painkillers is done with.” Minho’s gaze flickers back to you, his expression softening as he takes your hand and squeezes it softly. 
“You hear that? You’re going to be okay,” he says, more to himself than to you, as if he needs the reassurance just as much. He placed his lips on top of your hand and kissed softly before shaking his head at you,
"Minho-" You tried to warn but you were quickly cut off,
“But this… this can’t happen again.” He pointed at your wound before leaning in closer, his thumb gently stroking the back of your hand and smiling weakly. There was no way he was going to ever let anything happen to you for as long as he lived. 
“From now on, you’re getting extra protection every time you step out. I don’t care if it’s just for a walk or to grab a coffee—you’ll have backup, no exceptions.” His tone leaves no room for argument, the fear of losing you still evident in his eyes. It was going to be pointless arguing with a man who was set in his ways as much as Minho was when it came to your safety,
“I can’t risk anything happening to you again. Not when you mean this much to me.” He whispered, the nurse excused herself once his men began to gather in the room. All of them watched Minho with a smile on their faces. You were the only one that had ever been able to pull any kind of emotions out of their scary boss,
"Is the hospital floor secure?"
"You did not kick anyone out, right?!" You screech at your boyfriend who looks at you with a nervous smile tugging on the corners of his lips.
"If I say no, it won't be a lie...technically
"Minho-" You hiss at him but he shakes his head at you, it wasn't as if he'd thrown them out of the hospital. He'd merely paid everyone to be moved quickly.
"I moved them to different floors," he shrugged at you before you scoffed and nudged his shoulder. You'd have been perfectly fine without him moving anybody.
"I don't need protection from a bunch of old people."
"I don't care," He mumbles, looking at you and then kissing your cheek softly as you playfully scolded him for being so damn overprotective.
"I can't lose you, Yn...I just can't." He finally whispered as you pulled him to sit on the bed with you, your head resting on his shoulder. His men quickly filtered out of the room leaving you alone again.
He’s quiet for a moment, just resting his chin on top of your head, his fingers tracing soothing circles on your arm as he tries to think of something to say to you. 
Finally, he breaks the silence, his voice low and heavy with emotion. It had been hard for him when he'd heard the news of the attack, he'd gone into overprotective mode within seconds,
“I can’t lose you. I just… I can’t,” he whispers, the words almost a confession. 
“When I heard what happened, it felt like the ground was ripped out from under me. I’ve always been in control, always knew how to handle things… but when it comes to you…” He trails off, his grip on you tightening slightly as if he’s afraid you’ll slip away from him. You can feel the tremor in his voice, the raw vulnerability he rarely shows. 
“I’ve lost people before, but you… losing you would destroy me. I don’t know what I’d do if something happened to you.” You lift your head slightly, your eyes meeting his. The depth of his fear is written all over his face, the tough exterior he usually wears stripped away in this moment. You reach up, cupping his cheek in your hand, your thumb brushing away a tear he didn’t even realize had fallen.
“You won’t lose me, Minho,” you say softly, your voice filled with sincerity. 
“I’m not going anywhere. I promise you, you’ll never lose me.”
His eyes search yours as if he’s trying to believe it, trying to let your words sink in. Finally, he exhales a shaky breath and presses his forehead against yours. 
“I’m holding you to that,” he murmurs, his voice a little steadier now, but still tinged with the lingering fear of what could have been. 
“Because I can’t… I won’t let you go.” He promised you as you nodded at him, cuddling into him softly.
"I'm not going anywhere," You whispered to him, closing your eyes as you laid your head on his chest.
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avocado-writing · 1 day
Note
Fucking love a x1 Logan (my most favorite Logan, he’s such a cutie) that’s so pussy drunk off reader! I know he fists her underwear around his dick while nose deep into her pillow in her room while she’s off on a mission. (Totally is the reason why her under goes missing from her laundry basket)
He’s got a huge crush on her, straight up puppy love!
minors dni
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awww poor Logan, he’s so obsessed with you. 😌 not a day goes by without him thinking about you, your gorgeous body, your pretty face; he doesn’t mean to touch himself to the thought of you so much it just sort of… happens.
he wishes he could keep you close at all times, know what you feel like properly under his hands, if you’re as soft as he imagines. he gets bolder. pushes himself into your space under the guise of friendly bullying, always finding an excuse to touch you. puts his hoodie around your shoulders when you’re cold one day, then takes it back to his room so he can see if it smells like you (it does, it drives him wild. he sleeps with it in his bed).
this feeling, this wild infatuation he has for you won’t stop soon. he waits until you’re on a mission, til the mansion is quiet, then sneaks into your room. groans when he sees how many pairs of little lacy panties you own, god he’ll never be able to picture you in anything else now. he grabs a pair from your drawer and shucks his jeans down, wrapping them round his already half-hard length and fucking into his hand. god, isn’t it perfect? he imagines it’s your pretty cunt he’s pushing into instead of his own palm… but it isn’t enough.
he lies supine on your bed, burying his face in your pillow to smell you properly. fuck, the scent of your shampoo is almost too much. he wishes he was tangled in your hair as he fucks you, oh he’d make you feel so good; you’d make so many lovely noises for him as he fucks you like a real man ought to. if you can use your legs properly by the time he’s finished with you he won’t have done his job right.
he throbs. he’s close. he pictures you pawing up at him from the mattress below - tragically empty, god he wishes you were here - and cums over his fingers, catching his spend in the fabric of your underwear so as not to leave a mark. he’ll take them, as a memento.
next time he’ll press his face into further down your bed. see if he can scent where your musk is the strongest. anything to get his daily fix of you, anything.
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dumblilb · 2 days
Text
I Could Be Enough
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Vi x Fem!Reader
(Synopsis: They weren’t super close as children, but running around in the same crowd kept them in the know of each other. But years later she might be all Vi’s got left.)
(Warnings: drunk!vi, alcohol, mentions of physical violence ‘ not towards reader’, it’s mostly fluff, a little bit of angst, no mentions of physical attributes, just she/her pronouns, not proof read)
(Requested: yes)
(Words: 1,585)
* ・゚☆ 。・ * ・゚★ 。・ * ・゚☆ * ・゚☆ 。
You don’t even know how it got to this point. Sitting at the booth in a gross, sticky, and dark club, watching over a girl you didn’t think you would ever see again. And maybe you were right. Cause she’s not the same girl you remember running around the streets of the under city as a child. The one who always had a bright look in her eyes as she tried so hard to live up to her father’s name, and keep her siblings safe.
But one thing was the same behind those, now dark and sad, slate grey eyes. She was a fighter. In the most literal sense. She couldn’t keep her fist off a jaw if she tried. Night after night she would cover her distinct tattoos and red hair with dark paint. Disguising herself from the public who claimed her strength as a prize. Or maybe even hiding from herself. She wasn’t to sure anymore.
But as the nights carried on the paint got messier and the drinks were getting stronger. And it was hard to watch. But here you were. Watching. So hard you thought your eyes might bleed from all the strobing lights and smoke filling the air. Any other night you might have gone to bed. Ignored the aching feeling you had, and left her to party the rest of the night away. But you couldn’t. Because there she was also watching you. As she sloppily got up with a bottle in her hand and started to walk towards the exit, the urge to follow consumed you. Because you knew she wanted you too. She was practically begging. And so you did. Meeting her by the stairs leading to her small apartment.
“Thank god you came, I thought I was gonna have to drink all alone tonight.” She slurred and you sighed resting your hip against the wall, propping yourself up.
“What would you do without me.” You smiled at her. Trying not to be angry with how fucked up she sounds. Slyly taking the bottle from her and helping her steady by the waist you walk her home.
“You know you’re so pretty when you’re mad at me.” She sighs as you push her door open. You just roll your eyes. She’s been doing this for months. Ever since her first pit match. You were hired as a sort of nurse for the ring. Patching up the people who were getting their shit rocked, and the people doing the punching. Making sure they were healed enough for their next match. And the second you saw her step in that ring you knew it was her. Sure she looked a little different. But her deep upper cut. You could never forget that.
So you causally brought up growing up in the lanes while bandaging her fists that day. How you were pretty shy but always friendly with a boy named Ekko. And he had introduced you to his friends a few times. You could tell she remembered you. But she didn’t say anything. Which was okay. You could tell she didn’t really want to be known at that point. But as time went on she spent more time talking to you after matches. Sitting at the bar just trying to figure out how life got both of you here.
But she also found alcohol along the way. And that concerned you. She would always assure you she was fine. And you chose to believe her. Even though it sometimes seemed she would look right through you. Like she wished something else was there.
But even before the alcohol, the casual flirting was always there. Comments about how attractive you looked and how nice you were to her compared to the other fighters. Claiming you made her feel ‘so special’ and not just because it was coming from a beautiful girl like you.
So as you sit her down on her small bed and pull out some supplies to remove her makeup you can’t help but shake your head at her.
“Your dumb fake flirting isn’t going to get you out of this one vi. You’re a mess.” You sigh pushing her hair back with one hand, removing her makeup with the other.
“It’s not fake and you know it.” She rolls her eyes. “I want you. Please.” She says griping the hand with the cloth in it. Rubbing her thumb across your knuckles softly. The difference between her ruff scared hands and yours now glaringly apparent.
“You’re drunk and exhausted, and I wouldn’t be surprised if you had a bit of a concussion after today’s match. I haven’t seen you get hit that hard in a while.” You say ignoring her advances. As you’ve done before.
“I’m fine. You know I’m fine.” She reassures you. But the wavering of her eyes says otherwise.
“I know you think you’re fine-“ you remove your hand from hers and finish wiping her face. “But I see you, Vi. And this isn’t fine.” You say pointing from the bottle resting on her little table to her bruised fists.
She groans tossing her head back. And you gear up ready for a fight about how you don’t know what you’re talking about. But she rubs her eyes a little, her breath slowly becoming unsteady.
“You’re right I’m sorry.” She breathes out looking at you. The small bit of light roaming the room makes the wateriness of her eyes sparkle. “God I’m so tired and I don’t know what to do.” She cries.
You don’t even know how to respond. She’s never really cried in front of you before. She’s always been so tuff. But as she sits before you, even her toned and muscular body couldn’t make her look strong.
“I’m so lonely. All I have at this point is you. And you don’t even want me.” She continues and your face softens. Kneeling down in front of her you softly stroke her hair, pulling her in for a hug. She cautiously wraps her arms around you. Like just her touch might scare you away.
“You have me. You do. I think you have for a while now. I just didn’t think you were serious.” You reassure her. Her head nuzzles into the crook of your neck, and you can hear her breathing steady slightly.
“I’m always serious about you.” She says softly, it being a bit muffled by her position. She pulls away from the hug, resting her forehead to yours. “Can you stay please. I don’t want to be alone.” She asks quietly. Her warm breath hitting your lips.
“I’ll stay.” You grin and she moves to get up and grab a blanket. You help get her ready to lay down, removing her thick boots and setting aside the dirty cloth.
She props the blanket in your lap and she lays down. At first you just smile at how dainty she looks compared to how you usually see her. But her strong arm pulling you down next to her snaps you out of it pretty quickly.
Pulling the blanket over you both, you run your fingers through her hair. Analyzing her face one feature at a time. Her eyes seem a little more blue in this lighting. And you can finally see the small freckles adorning her skin.
“Are you trying to seduce me.” She asks with a soft laugh. “Cause it’s working.”
“Don’t get any funny ideas. That’s not happening. At least not tonight.” You say and you could have sworn her cheeks got a little pink.
“Well then you’ve got to stop staring at me like that… At least not tonight.” She jokes rolling over. Making you smile.
With her back to you, you place an arm around her waist holding her firm. You could feel her body stiffen and you try to remove your arm but she stops you. “No wait. This is good.” She whispers. “This is good.” And she holds your arm tight to her. Rubbing circles across it with her fingers. Her whole body relaxes against yours and you smile against her neck.
“You know I’m not that same girl anymore.” She sighs a little out of no where. But you get it, she’s trying to give you an out. A chance to run. You hum in response. “I’m different I think. I’m not as strong as I used to be.” She continues and you know she’s not talking about muscle, or brawn. She used to be a leader. Someone people looked up to. And now… most people didn’t even know her real name.
“That might be true. But that’s okay.” You say pressing a soft kiss to the base of her neck. “You’ve been through a lot. I think you’re holding on to a girl who didn’t know what life was yet. And you’re grown up. It’s normal to not be the same. Or feel the same.” You continue and she turns to face you. Caressing your cheek softly.
“I think maybe I can be okay. With you.” She muses. Placing a light kiss to your lips. Making you smile.
“Good cause I’m not going anywhere.”
You don’t know if tomorrow she would go back to drinking. Or if she would get her ass kicked in the pit. But tonight she was safe. And she was with you. And as she fell asleep to your heart beating against her, you couldn’t help but hope it could stay this way. Cause for you. This was enough.
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(resending this bc tumblr said my ask didnt send :(( )
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i fed him your honor!!
god i love ur ocs so much ESPECIALLY Kuuya God I love him so much i need him carnally. he has yet to leave my brain i think about him when i wake up when i go to bed when i shower when i BREATHE oh my god please give me 10 minutes alone with this man i would treat him GOOD i promise!!! (neither of us is walking away a virgin in ANY meaning of the word) i. i would become his boss and give him 2 weeks of paid leave so that i could take him on vacation. id introduce him to my parents. id take him on dates. id give him good morning AND good night kisses (and anything else he would like xoxo) id treat him like the pretty princess he is i promise <33
(also i hope ur doing well and that ur illness completely went away!! ur art is so inspiring to me and ur prolly my favourite artist on here! i wish u the best bc u deserve it friend <33 have a nice day!!)
uohhhhhhhhh thank you for the kind words...!!!!!! <333 Im glad you enjoy kuuya...and I love your drawing of him as a Creature™...he may be sentenced to two billion years in the torture chamber but at least he is full of soup </3 I'm feeling all better now!!! and WOAH I dunno if i deserve all that high praise...please take this Wet Beast for your troubles...
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harrytheehottie · 2 days
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JUNO
WORD COUNT: 2K MASTERLIST this is a part of the short & sweet fic challenge @harry-on-broadway let me know what you think 💘 hope you enjoy!
The sun was casting a warm golden glow through the windows of your living room as you sat on the couch. Harry was in the kitchen making your nightly tea as you rested on the sofa. It was a peaceful evening, like many that you have shared over the last three years. This familiar feeling and routine was something you cherished especially with the hectic schedule Harry’s life could bring.
A year ago, he finished his two year long world tour. It was an incredible feat and one that was an emotional roller coaster since it began. He had his entire life planned from the minute we all went into lockdown to the final show in Italy and these last seven months were spent just making up for lost time. He was always home when you came back from work, he was the one that was traveling on your schedule and your terms. It was a great change from how your relationship was before. You didn’t have to anticipate the day that he was going to go away for weeks at a time because you were a part of that decision making now and it only made the two of you stronger as a unit. 
You glanced at the framed photos on the mantel: you and Harry in various stages over the last three years--goofing around backstage at Coachella, the night he turned his green room in MSG into a home theater and begged security to let you two spend the night after you just got off a six hour flight to surprise him for his last show. It was the simple moments that were your favorite, the picture of you walking through the Heath, a cup of coffee and pastries in tow for your favorite weekend tradition of a Saturday morning picnic. 
This was the first year that you were able to think about the future just as it pertained to you and Harry. You didn’t have to think about how your life decisions factored into anyone else's. You always knew you wanted to have a family. He was always going above and beyond for the children in his life not just by spoiling them with gifts but checking up on them and making sure they knew that he was always there. And this became more apparent when he became an Uncle. He was always the first to offer up babysitting so his sister and her partner could enjoy some quality time, even making the trek up to Cheshire to watch his cousin's children if they asked.
So, when Harry walked back into the living room with a cup of tea for you and snacks for himself you sort of blurted it out before you had the chance to second guess the right time for this conversation. 
“I’m ready to have a baby.”
Harry’s eyes widened, completely caught off guard, “What?” almost second guessing what you just said. 
You take a deep breath, your heart racing realizing that you are not going to be able to take those words back. “I’ve just been thinking, we have talked about the future a lot as this far-fetched idea but we’re here now and…” you paused looking up at him, his expression shifting from the initial shock, he leaned closer, taking your hands in his. You knew how Harry worked and the subtle shift in energy was all you needed to continue, “I know not to think, I know I’m ready… for that next step.” 
A moment of silence stretched between you as he processed your words “You really mean that?”
“More than anything,” you admitted, looking into his eyes. “I can’t imagine going through that journey with anyone else. And it just feels good right now, us, we are so good right now and there is just no reason to wait.” 
Harry’s expression softened, and you could see the wheels turning in his mind. “It’s a big step, probably one of the biggest steps we will ever take together.” 
“Will we ever truly be ready?” You chuckled softly, trying to lighten the mood. “Life is unpredictable, but I want this with you.I want to build a family together.”
He was quiet for a moment, his gaze drifting to the window. “I’ve thought about it too,” he finally said, turning back to you. “I want that. I’ve always wanted it honestly. I remember the first time you met Ruby and the way she was instantly drawn to you. S’probably when the thought first crossed my mind.”
You remembered that day. You were so incredibly nervous to meet Harry’s close group of friends. It was Ruby -- his God daughter’s 4th birthday. You had only been dating for around three months at that point. You remember stressing about what to buy her as a gift and even though Harry promised no one would think twice if you showed up empty handed. You still scoured the internet looking up every list of ‘best gifts for a 4 year old girl’ and settled on a Peppa Pig Camper Playset with all the characters. And to say it was a hit was an understatement. The two of you still joke about how as soon as Ruby opened her present she demanded that you stay after to set up the toy and play with her. 
Harry remembers watching the way you were interacting with Ruby and how her father, Ben made a comment about how he had never seen Harry so fixated on someone before like he had you. It was still early days but he always went back to that moment and how it led you to where you are now. 
“So, are we ready to do this?” You asked with a mix of excitement and nervousness in your voice. 
“You know, if we really want to be serious about this. We’re going to have to start practicing.” Harry teased pulling you closer to him. The warmth of his body against yours as his lips met yours. The kiss was soft at first, tentative like he was emphasizing the importance of the moment you just shared.  
You pulled away first, a smirk on your face, “Hmm.. practice? I’m feeling a little tired right now,” You teased with a wide yawn stretching your arms over your head. The playful banter that you know drives him crazy. Harry moves his hands to cup your face, his thumb glazing over your lips again, “C’mere” he whispers. He begins kissing down your neck, leaving small kisses along his path from his lips. You move your hands through his hair, as he scoots back on the couch, pushing your shirt up in the process and you help to take it off.
The kisses continue. He’s moving down your neck, between your cleavage and he stops right at the top of your stomach. His hands that were holding yours moved to touch your belly — picturing what was going to happen next. The commitment to a family and how you would be the home for his future baby. You were almost tearing up at the sight of him and just how careful he was already, always putting your needs first and making you his priority. 
“You’re gonna have to use your words, baby,” You whisper as Harry moves his hands to the waist of your pants. You are already ready for him and he knew it just by how much you were wiggling under him trying to get him to move faster.
“I want you,” he says in a low breathy tone before helping you get your pants off. You move your weight onto your forearms to get a good view of him. You watch as Harry slides your underwear to the side, a rush of pleasure washing over the both of you. “So wet for me…” leaving his lips as he moves his fingers up and down your slit. The juxtaposition of the sexyness and tenderness of the moment right as he slid one and quickly two digits in pushing his fingers in and out. The pleasure washing over your body, the whimper of ‘Oh yes’ and ‘Baby’ a moan escaping your lips as you rode out your first orgasm. 
His lips are immediately back on yours as you slide your hand into his pants pushing his joggers off trying to keep every part of your body touching. After being in a relationship for three years you still periodically used contraceptives especially when you are in the thick of it with his work never wanting anything to come in the way of jeopardizing this unspoken tension between the two of you. And tonight, was going to be and feel different, no more trying to locate the last spot you left condoms going on stretches of time of just trying the process. This was intentional and you felt the mutual giddyness as you slid your hand down his length pumping him once, twice, three times before Harry is ready for you. 
“M’not gonna last very long,” he says before aligning your hips before pushing in deep. Taking a couple of deep breaths as you move your hips along with Harry as you adjust to the familiar feeling of him inside you. Harry leans his head toward you leaving kisses all over him, your nails dragging up and down his back. 
“Tell me it feels good,” You whispered the sounds of your mutual pleasure echoing in the room. 
“Feels so fuckin’ good, always s’fuckin good” Harry was moving faste and harder meeting your gaze right before letting himself go inside you. His body collapsing on top of you as both tried to catch your breath from the pleasure. You had your arms wrapped around his body wanting to keep the warmth of his body on you forever. 
You cleaned yourselves up and spent the rest of the night thinking about your future and how you were going to take that next step forward. Harry was your safe space and you were his. You both knew that this next step forward would be unlike anything you’ve done before but you were both ready, as a team to make this next step. 
And one day, you will be in this same living room waiting for Harry to finish making a bottle for your future baby - and boy, could you not wait. 
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I do think that the fact that there's still a degree of "controversy" around the circumstances with which Ed and Stede had sex is quite telling of our (general, societal our) expectation that sex be made into something that is, fundamentally, uncomplicated.
In general, there tends to be an expectation that sex can be either sorted into two categories: Good and Bad. If a specific occasion where two people have sex can't be cleanly sorted into Good, then it's lumped right into everything else with Bad - this is how we still get takes that there was any sort of dub-con element to Ed and Stede's sex scene in s2e6 when that's just not the case at all.
Like any part of human connection and communication, sex can be, and often is, messy. Here are the facts about the circumstances under which Ed and Stede have sex for the first time:
They have just had an extremely traumatic day, during which they had to see each other being tortured, and Stede just did something that upset him deeply. Ed wants to comfort and support Stede right now.
Ed has previously expressed a need to "take it slow."
What Stede needs, in the moment, is physical comfort, closeness, and intimacy with his boyfriend.
When Stede pulls Ed into the cabin, it's intense and passionate, but Ed is not uncomfortable or upset in the slightest.
Stede waits for Ed's nod of consent before kissing him, and the two fall into each other at the same time. They are both eager to hold onto each other.
The morning after, Ed is in a GREAT mood. He continues to be in an excellent mood throughout their date, and is even the one who suggests they go enjoy Stede's fame at Spanish Jackie'z. Ed initially enjoys not being in the spotlight and giving Stede advice about handling fame.
Ed does not become uncomfortable or get in his head until he's talking with Jackie, they watch Stede living it up, Ed admits that he just wants to be a regular dude now, and Jackie asks him if Stede knows that. The trigger for Ed's fear isn't anything Stede has done necessarily, it's about him worrying that Stede, who is just enjoying fame for the first time, will choose piracy over Ed.
This situation, as with many realistic human relationships, is messy. Should Ed and Stede probably have waited to have sex? Maybe. He certainly would've stopped if Ed had asked, and Ed could've found other ways to comfort him and be with him. You could argue that Stede is choosing physical intimacy to make him feel better instead of talking about his feelings. They've just had a very shitty day, and Ed's going through a bit of a personal crisis right now, and it's very possible that anything they do will get wrapped up in those big emotions. But it's also undeniable that they both had a great night and very much enjoyed it in the moment.
And that's just...realistic. It's just how any aspect of human relationships can work. People are messy and complicated. And, importantly, even if Ed does regret rushing into having sex that night (which I don't honestly think he does, I think he was having a hard time saying "things are moving very fast and I'm terrified" and that was just an easy thing to latch onto), that doesn't negate the consent he gave in the moment or retroactively make the sex non-consensual.
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atzloverr · 3 days
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Ateez as yanderes - how they fell for you
!!!TW: Yandere!!!
warnings: includes yandere themes, kidnapping, non-consensual touching, drugging, stalking, female reader, (more warnings for the individual scenarios)
yes they do vary in length but I kinda just write them as i go, it has nothing to do with how much i “like” them
and also, I could write any other scenario where they’re completely different from this, I just thought this would be fun
masterlist
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Hongjoong
cw: kidnapping, jealousy, non-con touching, college/school au
The most jealous of them all
Can’t even stand the thought of you talking to let alone looking at anyone other than him
Gets really scary when he’s angry, but tried his best to be patient when you don’t listen
Makes sure you only see him. Only touch him. Only love him. And if you refuse to do so, expect to be taught a lesson you will never even dare to forget.
Don’t worry though, he’ll gently kiss your tears away and carefully treat your wounds afterwards.
It all started when he saw you in class one day, not having really thought about you before, but he noticed how pretty you really were.
When he was grouped up with you for a project, he noticed just how kind and thoughtful you were, his little interest in you blooming into something stronger.
He didn’t know why yet, but seeing other guys at school approach you made his blood boil.
You were too good for those unworthy scum bags. Too pure. Too perfect. (He made sure to take care of them later)
Hongjoong felt himself becoming more and more obsessed with you, not a single day passing without the thought of you invading his mind.
What made Hongjoong snap was when a guy came up to you, touching you so familiarly and with such carelessness.
Seeing you laugh at this guy’s jokes, lightly touch his arm or even just bless him with your presence, made Hongjoong realize something
You needed to be protected. Your beauty needed to be savored, your skin never touched by other guys.
The only one worthy of you, was Hongjoong.
He knew what you really needed, who you really were.
He had made sure to learn all about you before finally making you his once and for all.
The two of you were meant to be together forever, and Hongjoong would never let anyone else come in between the two of you.
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Seonghwa
cw: kidnapping, bondage, stalking, blackmailing, masturbation, Seonghwa is a creep in this lol, they work at the same workplace
Seonghwa is a quiet and attentive type of yandere
Would secretly admire you from a distance for years, before even gaining the courage to speak to you
He couldn’t help but think of you whenever he sees something cute or couple-like, secretly dreaming of a future shared with you.
As much as he wishes he could just approach you, he’s so scared of you disliking him in any way
And even though he seems like a sweetheart, you wouldn’t think the same if you caught him digging in your drawers, trying to find a new clothing item to bring home with him
One day, he finally approached you at work, even though you worked in completely different departments of the company.
Your eyes widened when he informed you that one of your coworkers had been fired, for acting inappropriately in the workplace.
You were really shocked, remembering how friendly he was, always telling you good morning and good bye.
Of course, he hadn’t actually done anything wrong, but Seonghwa figured the man was being way too friendly with you, almost flirting with you.
No, Seonghwa couldn’t have that, so he took matters into his own hands, blackmailing his way into getting the douchebag fired.
That man wouldn’t go near you again, Seonghwa made sure of it.
You thanked Seonghwa for the information, and got back to your own work.
You didn’t notice the way the dark haired male practically ran to the bathroom after you brief encounter, needing some type of release after finally doing what he had been wanted to do for years.
He pumped his hard cock, thinking about the way you looked at him. He had never been that close to you, he had never seen you look up into his eyes like that.
He realized that this couldn’t be it. He had to interact with you again. He couldn’t have it any other way.
After a few months had passed, you found yourself growing fond of your coworker, talking to him at work almost every day, going out to have lunch or simply meeting up to discuss work.
You didn’t think much of it, but Seonghwa sure did.
He had to admit he was proud of himself, having gotten so close to you in such a short time. He had to face his fear of approaching you, and when he did, it was the best decision of his life.
He was happy with his accomplishments, but couldn’t help but crave for more. It was so frustrating, having to act as if he barely knew you, when he in fact knew next to everything about you and your life
He knew exactly what your underwear smelled like that day when he first talked to you, and what you watched on your TV that same night.
As he got closer to you, he also got more bold with his stalking.
He started spending nights in your room, watching you closely as your chest rose and fell. He even got so far as to cuddling up to you when you were asleep, making sure you wouldn’t wake up.
But one night, you did.
Seonghwa got a little caught up in the moment as he cuddled you, moving a tad bit too much for it to go unnoticed. He didn’t notice when you slowly stirred awake, but suddenly, you let out a scream of terror at the feeling of someone in your bed.
Your wide eyes met each others, and just as you were about to question him, he put a hand over your mouth, making you squirm in panic
Seonghwa didn’t know what to do. Would this ruin everything? He couldn’t even think, but he was soon on top of you, his panicked voice trying to get you to calm down.
He could only think of one solution, that wouldn’t get him in any sort of trouble.
So here you were now, tied up in Seonghwa’s bed, a gag in your mouth, choking down all your desperate screams.
The man you once thought of as a sweet coworker, just laid next to you, hands grazing your arm in an attempt to comfort you in your time of horror.
Tomorrow, he knew what he would do.
He just hoped that your boss wouldn’t be too sad about the news of your… accident.
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Yunho
cw: possessive behavior, slut shaming, ripping clothes, I’m sorry Yunho
Yunho can still find himself reminiscing about the old times, back when you first met.
Oh, he remembers it like it was yesterday, when he saw that beautiful smile of yours for the first time.
Yunho’s friend had a birthday dinner, and when they were going over the invitations, Yunho heard a foreign name pop up.
“Y/n? Who’s that?” Yunho asked curiously, trying to search for your name in his mind, but finding nothing.
“Oh, she’s a new friend from work! I’m sure you’ll like her! She’s super friendly!” his friend explained.
Yunho never expected to feel this way when he saw you.
Unfortunately for him, he showed up a little late to the dinner due to traffic, but when he arrived his eyes immediately found yours.
He didn’t believe in ‘love at first sight’, but if there was something like it, he was sure this was how it felt.
Throughout the night, he found himself drawn to you in some special way, your personalities seeming to go hand in hand. You laughed at his jokes, he laughed at yours.
After the dinner, Yunho had made one thing clear to himself.
You needed to become his. As soon as possible. So when you messaged his number that he had given you at the dinner, he found himself lighting up in joy and excitement.
You were going on a date with him.
Oh, he just couldn’t wait, to see you again, and just get to know you! He hadn’t been this interested in someone so quickly for a long time.
It didn’t take long before you and Yunho were dating. He made sure to take you out again only a few days after your first date, feeling eager to know more about you.
Everything felt perfect in your newly announced relationship.
But not for Yunho.
He couldn’t suppress it anymore. He felt so incredibly protective over you, it physically irked him to let you leave him for just a second.
As much as he tried to let you go out and have fun, it just felt so wrong. He didn’t want to be an overprotective boyfriend, but he didn’t view this as being overprotective. This felt like the bare minimum.
One night, when you got dressed to go to a friend’s party, Yunho couldn’t stop himself.
“Are you really going to dress like that?” he spat at you, almost sounding offended.
You gasped at his comment. “What is that supposed to mean?” you questioned, feeling your blood already boiling at his question. Oh, how you hated when guys acted like this.
“I mean, are you going to try to impress someone else?” he asked, still wearing that scowl on his face. You scoffed.
“I’m not having this conversation—“
“Yes you are,” Yunho raised his voice. Your eyes widened in surprise. He had seemed so sweet until now. This was a whole new version of him. One that you didn’t enjoy.
He stepped his large body in front of yours in the hallway of your apartment, pinning you against the wall.
“You have to understand,” he started, his eyes looking dark and scary. “That you’re my girlfriend now, and you can’t go around dressed like a slut anymore.”
You fought the urge to slap him across the face, and instead just barked back at him, “Excuse me!? Do you think you own me or something?”
Yunho squinted slightly.
“You know what, yes, I do.”
You were about to laugh at him, thinking that this was some sort of joke, but when he suddenly picked you up bridal style and harshly threw you down on the bed, you couldn’t mutter a single sound.
“Do you know what types of men will be there?” he asked, his hands moving down to the hem of your dress.
“How do you know that they won’t just,” he started, his hands ripping the fabric of the dress. “Touch your skin? This dress is so short, it won’t exactly be hard for them!” he argued.
You yelled at him to stop, but his hands continued tearing your dress into shreds.
You felt tears spilling out of your eyes, sobs escaping you as he exposed you in your underwear.
“You’re mine, do you understand!?” he asked, almost screaming at you.
You flinched at his anger, but forced a nod. Something changed in his gaze, making it softer once again.
“Good,” he said, his head resting on your bare stomach.
“I think you’ll stay home for tonight, hm?” he almost whispered, causing a shiver to run down your spine.
You had a rough few days ahead of you.
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Yeosang
cw: school/college au, kidnapping, non-con touching, yeosang is delusional
His love for you started as a harmless crush.
Seeing you in the corridor and finding you pretty, or just hearing your voice as you raised your hand in class made him feel shy and giggly.
It went by so quickly, and suddenly this little crush had turned into something much stronger.
He soon noticed how big of an impact you had on his life
You were the only thing on his mind every single day, and it came to a point where he couldn’t stand not seeing you, even for just a day.
He wanted to spend every waking moment with you, making sure you and him can get to know each other better, and become closer to each other.
He even started envisioning a future with you, kids and all.
Even though you had only had some brief interactions with the man, he sure valued those moments, still thinking about your sweet laugh and beautiful smile.
He knew what he had to do, scared he would go crazy if he didn’t.
One day after school, he innocently invited you over for tea, making sure you felt comfortable in his home, before drugging you and keeping you there for as long as he sees fit (probably forever)
You couldn’t understand any of it, barely even remembering speaking to the boy, but when you acted confused by his actions, he only grew angrier
“Don’t you remember that time? When you dropped your book and- and I helped you pick it up!?” he asked furiously. Your eyes widened at his words.
He was surely crazy.
Although he kidnapped you, he still felt shy around you at times, biting his lip and blushing slightly when even being in your presence
He’ll shyly cuddle up to you when you fall asleep, finally seeing you so peaceful and quiet, just how he likes you
When you scream at him, begging him to let you out, he’ll just treat it like a tantrum, putting you in ‘timeout’
He really tries to explain his feelings to you, only thinking that it’s rational for him to protect you
He “only does it out of love” and gets so frustrated when you can’t understand that.
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San
cw: reader likes to party, reader gets drunk, kidnapping, stalking, jealousy, possessive behavior
You caught his eye in a bar one night, wearing a tight dress, showing off your body in a way that turned everyone’s eyes towards you
San was no exception, his gaze plastered on you the entire night, as you got more and more drunk
He had to keep an eye on you, making sure that no creep would try to make a move on you or hand you a spiked drink
When the end of the night came, none of your friends were with you anymore, so you were far from safe on your own
San approached you, steadying you with his strong arms, causing you to lean on his frame
He could tell you were confused, and decided to introduce himslef
“My name is San, what’s your name?” he asked, trying to find your unfocused gaze
You muttered out your name, your breath reeking of alcohol.
San smiled kindly, and sat you down on a barstool, still keeping his steady arms around you
“You want me to help you get home?” he asked, his kind eyes making you feel an immediate sense of comfort.
“Yes please,” you muttered out.
As he gave you a piggyback ride home, you slurred out a small ‘thank you’.
San couldn’t hold his smile at your cute behavior, looking at your face as you almost fell asleep at his shoulder
Oh how things were changed now.
Ever since that night, San had found himself missing you, even though you only met when you were drunk
He made sure to give you his number, telling you to call him if you needed anything, however, you hadn’t reached out again.
San felt himself getting angrier by every moment. Didn’t you value that night you had together? I mean, he took you home and took care of you when you literally couldn’t even walk.
He knew you meant no harm though, no, his little sweetheart would never try to hurt his feelings.
San decided that he couldn’t handle thinking about you like this anymore, so one night, he decided to find where you were, using different means to find out what you were going to be doing this weekend.
He wasn’t surprised that you were going to another party, so he decided to get himself invited as well.
What he never expected, was to see you with some dude, making out in the corner of a room as if you had no shame
His eye twitched in rage, but he knew he had to be patient.
When the party was finally over, you were of course, drunk again, and he decided that this was the perfect time to make his move.
“H-hey, have we met?” you laughed, almost falling into his arms as you approached him.
San only smirked.
“Come with me and I’ll tell you,” he smiled. If this had been anyone else, you would never had agreed to it, but something in you told you to trust this man.
You found yourself leaning against a tree, no other people in sight, except for the handsome man standing before you.
“Tell me,” you commanded, your words still slurring together.
“Oh don’t worry, I will,” he said, before you felt a harsh pain in your head, and you fell down to the ground.
You couldn’t scream, you could only slowly fade away into unconsciousness as the man slowly picked you up.
Plastering a few kisses to your head, he smiled, way to innocently for what he was doing.
“Finally I can take you home, my little bunny.”
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Mingi
cw: implied kidnapping, best friends to (lovers), possessive behavior, drugging, jealousy
Mingi had been your best friend ever since back in high school
You still remember how he would beg you to hang out after school, telling you that you were going to ‘study’, just so lure you in to a mario kart tournament
You were so thankful to have such a sweet friend by your side, always supporting you when you needed it the most, and serving as a pillar in your life when everything else seemed to go downhill
Mingi had made sure that’s what you viewed him as. The reliable friend who would never fail you.
He had to make sure you loved and trusted him more than anyone else
At first, he thought it was just a friendly affection he held towards you. When he felt his fists clench in anger when you talked to others, he just thought of it as a will to protect you, his friend
But now he was sure it was more than that.
During all of these years, he watched as boy after boy failed you. He couldn’t help but feel a small wave of excitement when you came crying in his arms, telling him that you got failed again.
As much as he hated seeing you so sad, he just loved that you always seemed to come crawling back to him.
Well, that was, until now.
Mingi watched carefully through your window, making sure his loud breaths of anger weren’t heard by you and your new ‘boyfriend’.
As much as he loved hearing your moans, he couldn’t stand them when it was because of some other dude.
The only ones valuable enough to touch your sweet body was you and him. Anyone else pleasuring you deserved hell.
So when Mingi heard you moan out this new guy’s name in ecstasy, he felt sick to his stomach.
He waited and waited for this guy to show his true colors, and break up with you.
Mingi hadn’t seen it yet, but he was sure this guy had a bad side too. Even if he was kind to you, Mingi knew that this guy wasn’t the one.
Because Mingi was the one.
He had to make sure he was, even if it would take time for you to realize it.
Seriously, how dense were you? Mingi thought. How couldn’t you notice his love towards you? Did all those tender moments of affection mean nothing to you?
One night, Mingi decided that you had spent enough time with your boyfriend. This had to end, before it escalated into something bigger. He didn’t even want to think about you two moving in together, getting a dog, having kids…
No! He had to do something about it. He wanted to try talking about it with you first, so when you came over to spend the night, Mingi decided to ask you about it.
“Y/n, this new guy, he…” Mingi started, avoiding your gaze. “New? We’ve been dating for months!” you laughed. “But yeah, what about him?”
Mingi felt so tingly when you looked up at him with those beautiful eyes, so he couldn’t even meet them, scared that he might let out some inappropriate noise.
“Well, is he really the one?” he asked, looking down to the floor.
You stared dumbfounded at him, but continued to play it off as mere curiosity from your friend.
“Yeah, I think he might be.”
You had to admit Mingi was acting strange. His gaze was unfocused, as he grumbled something incoherent.
You dismissed the conversation, and swiftly changed the subject.
“So, how’s it going for Yunho? I heard he got a new job?…”
Mingi couldn’t focus on your words right now, as much as he wanted to hear your beautiful voice.
You were clearly serious about this guy, so talking you out of it wouldn’t work. You trusted your boyfriend way too much, and raising your suspicions would take way too long.
He had to go through with plan B, as much as he hated it.
You lay down next to Mingi on the couch, carelessly sipping your drink. You had decided to put on a movie, and as much as you loved this movie, you couldn’t help but feel sleepy already.
You found yourself slowly dozing off on Mingi’s shoulder, your body feeling weak suddenly.
You tried to form words, but felt too tired to even speak. You barely even noticed as Mingi’s strong arms swiftly picked you up.
He finally met your gaze, after what had felt like an eternity. To your surprise, his expression showed nothing but sadness.
“I’m sorry Y/n,” he said, walking into his bedroom. “But it’s for the best.”
After hearing the distinct sound of the door closing and locking, you found yourself lulled into a deep slumber, tucked under Mingi’s soft sheets, his arms cradling your body.
When you were finally fast asleep, Mingi took the opportunity, and told you the three sacred words he had been holding back from you for all these years.
“I love you.”
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Wooyoung
cw: cheating, stalking, taking photos without consent, implied kidnapping, manipulation, masturbation
Wooyoung will get what he wants, no matter the cost
Even if that means ruining years of friendship, and breaking your heart in the process, he had to do the necessary things to get you
Breaking your heart wouldn’t even be the hardest part, after all, he wouldn’t mind breaking you completely, just so he could build you anew.
Wooyoung and his best friend were inseparable, it was well known for everyone they knew
Being childhood best friends, Wooyoung was sure nothing could ever come in between their bond
That was, until you entered the picture
Wooyoung was more than excited to hear that his friend had gotten a new girlfriend, and he couldn’t wait to meet the girl, having heard such good things about her
His jaw dropped when his gaze met your form
You were stunning
He had to raise his eyebrows at his best friend, as if saying ‘damn, how did you manage to get that?’
As you politely shook his hand and introduced yourself, Wooyoung couldn’t help but notice something
You were way too good for his best friend
Even though they were good friends, he couldn’t deny that this guy wasn’t the nicest to girls, looking back at his past girlfriends, who basically all ended up cheated on by him.
Although his relationships usually ended within the first few weeks, two months had now passed since Wooyoung’s friend met you.
It had gone unnoticed by you, but for these two months, Wooyoung had gotten incredibly smitten by you
He found himself looking forward to seeing you, and would use any excuse possible to get you alone with him
You were just so much better off without his friend.
Without that guy, you could be your interesting and authentic self without being held back.
As smart as you were, Wooyoung knew you weren’t that bright. You didn’t even notice when he snuck his phone under the table to take a quick snap into your skirt, or when he always managed to end up in weird positions with you when he “fell asleep.”
At night, Wooyoung would desperately hump into a pillow while listening to an audio of your voice, imagining you laying right beneath him.
He couldn’t take it anymore, he had waited long enough.
Luckily, he knew exactly how he would manage to pull this off.
He happened to know his best friend a little too well.
One night, Wooyoung invited you two to a party as plus twos, begging you to go, telling you just how fun it was going to be.
You fell for his cute little smile as he blinked at you, asking you to pleeease come with him.
He smirked when you finally said yes, slowly making his way to his end goal.
He had to execute this perfectly, making sure he would be portrayed as the hero, and your boyfriend as the villain.
Well at the party, you found yourself sitting in a corner of the room, laughing and dancing to the music. Wooyoung had for some reason insisted you were going to hang out at that specific spot for a while.
After a little while, Wooyoung snaked a hand around your waist, telling you to go have a drink with him.
He gave you and your boyfriend that classic innocent smile, feeding onto the illusion that he was someone with no ill intent whatsoever.
When you took off, Wooyoung quickly fished out his phone from his pocket, sending a message.
Wooyoung made it so that he could still keep an eye on your boyfriend, while you stood opposite from him, not having any idea of what was happening behind you.
While you two chatted away, your tipsy state making you talkative, Wooyoung watched as the girl slowly approached your boyfriend
He studied the way she slowly sat down on your boyfriend’s lap, who had already managed to get way too drunk
Right when he could tell she was about to make her move, he smiled at you.
“Let’s go back to your boyfriend, shall we?”
As you turned around, Wooyoung’s arm still holding your waist, you couldn’t help but gasp in surprise
Were you really seeing things clearly?
As you slowly walked closer to them, you realized that this was no illusion
There your boyfriend sat, some girl on top of him, making out with him passionately, his hands roaming her barely dressed body
Your legs suddenly felt weak, but Wooyoung kept you on your feet
“Oh my god, Y/n,” Wooyoung breathed out sadly, holding you closer. “I’m so sorry…”
You felt tears stream down your cheeks as you stepped even closer to the two, seeing the way her hands guided his as she practically grind on his lap.
You didn’t want to believe your eyes, but you had to.
Suddenly, your body was turned around, and you were dragged out of the room. In what felt like a matter of seconds, you were outside, Wooyoung’s arms wrapped tightly around your shivering body
You sobbed quietly into the fabric of his jacket, as his hand found your hair.
“Shh it’s okay Y/n,” he comforted, slowly rocking you back and forth. “How about you sleep at my place tonight, hm?”
You nodded violently into his shoulder, tears continuing to stream down your cheeks.
What you never saw, was the way Wooyoung smiled in satisfaction, sending the girl a last message.
“You can back off from him now, I’ll pay you tomorrow.”
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Jongho
cw: implied kidnapping, stalking, non-con kissing, mentions of weight loss, obsessive behavior
The first time Jonho saw you was at an art gallery, slowly inspecting the art pieces as you walked by them
As much as he wanted to keep his eyes on the art, you were the only thing he could keep his attention on
You stood there in your long dress, modest but oh so tempting, staring at the painting before you in a lonesome awe
He found himself being drawn to you. It was something about your energy.
“What do you think?” he asked in a low voice, walking up to you, still keeping you at a respectful distance, but close enough to make the conversation private.
“It’s interesting. The artist has done a really great job at portraying the beauty in the horror of her expression,” you said, eyes not wavering from the painting in front of you.
The unknown man next to you just hummed in agreement, but in reality, he wasn’t even looking at the painting. He had seen it earlier, so he knew exactly what you meant.
The painting depicted a woman, watching in terror as an unknown creature tries to attack her. Amidst of the scenery, there is a beauty, that not everyone could understand.
You understood exactly what was intended in the piece, making Jongho feel nothing but excitement bubble up inside of him.
“What’s your name?” you asked, averting your gaze towards the man. His eyes widened slightly before he answered.
“Choi Jongho,” he answered, smiling warmly at you.
You introduced yourself as well, bowing slightly.
After about an hour, you and Jongho had been chatting away about the various art pieces in the gallery, discussing your interpretations.
You were impressed at Jongho’s open minded approach, making you feel comfortable when you didn’t even know the man.
Having to say goodbye felt sad to you, and as much as you wanted to ask him for his number, you just couldn’t find the courage.
Ever since you parted that day, you had been the only thing on the man’s mind. He tried to recall every single word you said about each peace, wanting to imagine your voice uttering the words of pure intellect and interest.
When going to other galleries, Jongho always hoped to see you once again, but he never found you.
He knew it was wrong, but he wanted to know what you were up to. Were you avoiding him? Or did you simple lose interest in art? No, that couldn’t be. The way you spoke so fondly about it showed that art meant a lot to you.
Jongho had to find out. So he did the necessary thing to do so.
He simply used his computer skills to find out more about you. He had your name, so with enough time and effort, he would surely find you.
And indeed, he did find you.
When he saw your picture pop up on his computer screen, he felt a jolt of joy.
He found out everything he needed to know, and the next day, he was making a phone call to have flowers delivered to your door.
He couldn’t wait to see your reaction to them, waiting patiently at his hiding spot.
When your form finally came into view, Jongho felt himself stiffen up.
You didn’t look like yourself.
You had clearly lost weight, looking pale and tired. Your eyes were barely even opened as you inspected the bouquet of flowers.
You picked them up, and then quickly entered your apartment again, quickly closing the door
Jongho was at a loss for words.
This wasn’t how he remembered you. You weren’t this lifeless last time. You hadn’t looked so empty of emotion, so distant.
With your recent appearance, you now invaded Jongho’s mind more than ever before.
What had happened to you since last time? Jongho had to find out.
After hours of digging, he still couldn’t find anything. No traumatic past events. No dead family member. Nothing.
After sending you another bouquet, once again watching you from his hiding spot, he couldn’t bare it anymore.
Seeing you like this physically hurt him. He felt his heart clench at the mere sight of your weak self, and he needed to take care of things.
So the third time he sent you flowers, he decided to give them to you personally.
He breathed in and out heavily, waiting for you to appear at the door. It took you way too long for his liking to finally open the door, revealing your even more malnourished self, dressed in pajamas even though it was midday.
“Jongho?” your voice sounded out, your eyes widened slightly.
He smiled fondly at your memory of his name. So you did remember the meeting you had.
“Hello, Y/n,” he greeted, handing you the flowers. You blinked at the gesture.
“Are you the one who—“ you started, but Jongho had other plans.
“Let’s go inside, shall we?” he asked.
Your eyebrows furrowed when he invited himself in, stepping past you, and into your chaos of a home.
You tried to protest, but he just gave you a stern look. You were so confused at his attitude. What happened to that respectful man you had met at the gallery?
“What’s going on? You look tired, Y/n,” Jongho asked, voice laced with concern.
You gasped slightly at his familiarity, almost feeling insulted by the sudden question.
“Shouldn’t I be asking you what’s going on? How did you find out where i live? And what are you doing here in the first place?” you raised your voice, pointing at him.
The look in his eyes remained unchanged, a small frown on his lips at your questions.
“That’s not what really matters, Y/n. What’s happened to you?” he asked, giving you that pitiful look you hated.
The way he kept repeating your name didn’t fail to make you uncomfortable.
You backed away from him slightly, dropping the bouquet, but was suddenly grabbed by the wrist by an iron-like grip.
“Answer me, Y/n,” he demanded, a stern look in his eye.
You squirmed in his grip, spitting insults at him, but it was like you had no effect on him.
Soon, it just led to him being pinned over you on your couch, his hands on either side of your head.
Your eyes were wide in fear, and you felt forced to answer the question he had been urging you to answer for the past agonizing minutes.
“Okay, okay! I got dumped, okay!?” you yelled at him, tears starting to gather in your eyes.
He froze, but soon regained composure. “So what? That’s no reason for you to destroy yourself,” he stated. You blinked at his audacity.
“You have no idea what I’ve had to go through—“
A kiss.
That’s what interrupted your answer of rage. A slow, but firm kiss on your lips. You couldn’t even find the energy to fight him off, already being weak as it was.
When he finally disconnected from you, tears had started streaming down your face.
His hands found your cheeks, wiping the warm tears away.
“Don’t worry Y/n,” he tried to comfort you. “I’ll never make you go through something like that again.”
You shook your head in confusion.
“With me, you’ll be happy. I’ll make sure everything gets back to normal again,” he cooed, eyes inspecting your face.
“Now, let’s go home, shall we? This place probably just reminds you of him.”
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