#i can type whatever and however I want you can’t stop me

[angelfic]

— IF I CAN’T HAVE YOU BABY

pairing: mattheo riddle x nott!reader

summary: you weren't quite used to the attention of other boys, and it seems your brother's best friend isn't too fond of it either

warnings: brother's best friend trope!! swearing, kissing, not much else, very much unedited

author’s note: i don't tend to stray outside of the marauders era characters buuuut i've been a bit obsessed with mattheo and theo recently so this was for my own selfish needs lol as always let me know what you think!!

He had barely looked away from you all evening.

You knew the only reason Mattheo’s eyes had been fixed on you for the entirety of dinner was because of a certain type of attention you had unconsciously garnered on your first day back at school. Particularly male attention. It wasn’t any less disconcerting, however, knowing that your brother’s best friend was prepared to fist fight any potential romantic advances towards you because he was just as protective as your actual older sibling.

Your brother Theodore is no better, a displeased frown appearing every five minutes when he looks over to where you sit at the Gryffindor table.

“Merlin, boys are pathetic,” Ginny mutters, spearing a potato with her fork. “You go away for one summer and come back slightly prettier and they flock to you like bees to honey!” You’re about to weakly protest that she’s exaggerating, but at that exact moment you’re interrupted by a tap on your shoulder.

You slowly turn on the bench, reluctantly lowering your goblet of pumpkin juice to face Michael Corner, a Ravenclaw boy who you’d only ever spoken to when he was going out with Ginny.

“Hi, Michael,” you sigh, offering him a bland smile.

“Hello, Nott,” Michael replies, with what he probably thinks is a winning smile. “Had a good summer? I was just going to ask if you wanted to go on the first Hogsmeade visit of the term with me.”

You stare at him, unblinking. “Er- well, as… nice as that sounds,” you say slowly, not meaning a word. You glance at Ginny as pointedly as you can manage and raise an eyebrow. “I don’t quite relish the idea of going out with my best friend’s ex.”

“Oh! I, erm, I didn’t actually see you there, Ginny,” he stammers, laughing sheepishly. “My mistake.”

“Quite,” Ginny says drily, turning back to her plate of food.

“Well, er, see you later then,” Michael mumbles, nearly tripping over himself as he rushes back to the Ravenclaw table.

You bite your lip to stifle your giggles but it’s not long before you catch Ginny’s eye and the both of you erupt into fits of laughter.

“I can’t believe I ever went out with him,” Ginny groans, wiping her eyes.

“Was he always such a tosser or is that new?” you ask, snorting at the way Ginny scrunches up her face in embarrassment.

You’re still laughing when your eyes happen to pass over the Slytherin table just to focus on Mattheo.

You notice with a jolt that he’s looking at you again. This time, his eyes flick over to the Ravenclaw table for a second where Michael has settled back onto, then back to you and he quirks a brow quizzically.

Frowning, you mouth at him to stop in hopes that he ceases his scrutiny, just for him to roll his eyes and return to whatever one-sided conversation Blaise Zabini was attempting to engage him in. You hope you don’t look as flustered as you feel after realising Mattheo has just witnessed such an embarrassing encounter, but you’ve found over the years that you’re not the best at hiding the effects he has on you. Theo has never mentioned it in front of Mattheo as far as you’re aware, but he definitely hasn’t shied away from teasing you about the childhood crush you have on your brother’s closest friend. Not that you’ve ever admitted it to him anyway, and you’ve gotten a lot better at hiding it since nothing could ever come of it.

“Your brother and Riddle have been looking like they’re ready to halve the male population of Hogwarts since we got on the bloody train,” Ginny says, pulling you out of your thoughts.

“Tell me about it,” you sigh, cutting into your carrot a little more viciously than needed. “They keep looking over at our table. I feel like I’m on one of those Muggle reality television programmes Hermione was telling your dad about the other week.”

Arthur Weasley was absolutely transfixed when he was learning about reality television from Hermione during breakfast the week you both stayed at The Burrow, and although you zoned out after his sixteenth question about a singular programme, you feel as though you caught the gist of it.

“Hm,” Ginny agrees, grimacing at the memory. She had nodded off at the table during that conversation and fallen asleep on her slice of toast. “In fairness, that’s not really a new thing.”

“What, being watched by my two guard dogs?” you ask in a mock-serious voice.

“Yeah, but…” Ginny chews thoughtfully for a second before answering. “I’m not just talking about today, or even recently. Your brother mostly minds his own business. I’m talking about Riddle. He’s always looking at you, I noticed it last year. Wherever we are, kind of like he’s checking up on you,” she says like it’s common knowledge, shrugging. “It’s sweet, I guess.”

You blink at her, a little speechless.

“What?” Ginny frowns after a few seconds of your silence. You look at her with raised eyebrows, not really taking her seriously. In your first few years at Hogwarts, you had confided in Ginny regarding your silly, little girl feelings for Mattheo and she would read into every action he took towards you in an attempt to prove he liked you too. Obviously, he saw you as nothing but a younger sister figure and once you grew up a bit, Ginny had let it go too.

Ginny reads your dubious expression now and sets down her knife and fork to cross her arms. “Oh, for heaven’s sake. I’m serious! I’m not just saying it because you were helplessly in love with him until you were, like, fourteen.”

“Shush!” you hiss, thwacking her arm. “Why don’t you just get up on stage with Dumbledore and ask him to include that titbit of information for the entire school to hear in his speech!”

“Good idea,” she says, nodding seriously and starting to get up. You know she’s just teasing, but you start spluttering and frantically grab at her sleeve to sit her back down, causing her to topple onto you slightly. This sets you both off laughing again and you find it hard to stop for the rest of dinner and desert, thankfully staying far away from the topic of Mattheo. You also pointedly avoid looking at him again.

Once dinner is over, you head to the Gryffindor common room with the rest of your house and catch up with everyone for a while. After a couple hours of socialising and fifteen minutes of helping Neville Longbottom search for his pet toad, you head up to your dorm with Ginny and Lena, one of your other dormmates, to unpack.

As soon as you open your luggage, you search for your pyjamas and immediately change out of your robes and into a t-shirt and baggy shorts for comfort. You’re in the middle of unpacking some textbooks when you hear Lena whistle from behind you.

“I do not remember those pyjamas looking like that,” Lena comments, grinning at you. Rolling your eyes, you comply with her request to do a little spin and you can’t help feeling pleased when Lena and Ginny start whooping and hollering. “You’ve always been gorgeous, but you really grew up this summer, huh? Look at those legs!”

“Tell me about it,” Ginny pipes in, flopping down on her bed and abandoning her unpacked suitcase. “She came to stay for a week and Mum looked like she was going to cry every time she saw us. Something about ‘blossoming into young ladies’ or whatever bollocks.”

“You ‘blossomed’ last year,” you point out, and Lena hums in agreement. “I haven’t forgotten how Zacharias Smith fell off his broom trying to wave at you during Quidditch practice.”

Ginny groans and starts ranting about teenage boys again. Lena joins in and starts teasing her about how Harry Potter is the only boy she hasn’t complained about and you’re about to set down your belongings to help Lena dodge the pillows Ginny is throwing at her when a flash of green and silver in your suitcase catches your eye.

“Shite, I have Theo’s uniform,” you huff, grabbing the clothes out of your suitcase and sliding your slippers on. “That means he has mine and I am not dealing with this at seven in the morning. I’m gonna go drop this off, be back in a minute.”

Ginny says goodbye before resuming her pillow attack on Lena as you make your way out of the room and down into the common room. It’s nearly empty, with most people having gone to their rooms to pack and a quick glance at the clock tells you its past curfew. You decide to take the risk since you have a reasonable excuse, but you hope that if you do get caught, it isn’t by Filch or Snape.

By the time you’ve reached the dungeons, you thank Merlin that Theo had the sense to tell you the password for the Slytherin common room before dinner in case of emergency.

“Pureblood,” you mutter, fighting the urge to scoff when the door swings open. You enter the common room and brighten up when you see that the only students still hanging around are Theo and his friends. Your brother seems to have already started unpacking since he’s standing and holding your uniform, presumably about to come and find you. His friends all mumble polite ‘hello’s and he walks up to you with a smile.

“Oh, hey, I was just-” Theo cuts himself off when he properly looks at you and frowns. “Wha- Why are you wearing pyjamas out and about?”

“You’re wearing pyjamas too!” you exclaim, slightly embarrassed that your brother is doing this in front of your friends. They all turn to look at you again, hearing the indignation in Theo’s voice and you notice Mattheo suddenly sits up straighter. Suddenly aware of your bare legs, you tug down the material of your shorts, despite the fact they aren’t even very short to begin with.

“Oi. Stop looking at my sister!”” Theo snaps, glaring at Blaise, Draco, Crabbe and Goyle. You know the only reason they glanced at you in the first place is out of curiosity regarding Theo’s question, but Theo and Mattheo scowl at them all the same and they all start sputtering, Draco in particular when Pansy narrows her eyes at him. Theo sighs at you, quickly exchanging your uniforms. “Just- at least take something to cover up back to your room.”

“I’ll walk her back,” Mattheo says, out of nowhere. He stands up and makes his way over to you, face carefully blank. Theo nods, agreeing quickly before he ruffles your hair goodbye to go and finish packing. You’re too surprised by Mattheo’s offer to protest until you’re already out of the Slytherin common room.

“I don’t need someone to walk me back, you know,” you mumble after a minute of charged silence.

“It was either me or Theo,” he shrugs, completely unapologetic when his mouth quirks up in a smug smile. “And I know you prefer me.”

“You’re both equally annoying,” you say, rolling your eyes, happy that he’s talking to you like normal again. You hated it whenever Mattheo was serious – it was rarely ever towards you and you much preferred when his whole face lit up with a smile. He begins to tease you about your bunny rabbit slippers and you’re in the middle of pretending to be irked when you both run into Ernie Macmillan, a Hufflepuff prefect doing patrol duties.

“Hey,” Ernie offers you a friendly smile and gives Mattheo a brief, slightly nervous glance. While you prefer not to get into trouble for breaking curfew, Mattheo clearly couldn’t care less and his relaxed, yet intimidating stance must be off-putting to Ernie. Thankfully, you’re on friendly terms with the Hufflepuff and you give him an even brighter smile to make up for it, to which he beams at. “How was your summer?”

“Good, yeah! Erm, listen Ernie. We didn’t mean to be out at this time, it’s just that I accidentally had my brother’s uniform and needed to-”

“Oh, forget it. Don’t worry, I won’t dock you any points,” Ernie reassures you, waving off your excuses and you instantly relax. Ernie gives Mattheo another unsure glance before leaning in the tiniest bit closer to you. You try not to pay attention to how Ernie has been glancing at your legs and how Mattheo tenses up when Ernie starts speaking again. “I was actually wondering if you were available next weekend…?”

Ernie trails off when you don’t show any indication of replying straight away and you snap out of your surprise to say something, but Mattheo beats you to it.

“She’s busy then,” he says coldly, working his jaw. “Now, if you don’t mind, it’s late. Kindly get lost.”

“Wha- Matt!” you hiss, smacking his chest to which he barely flinches, nor does he look at all apologetic. “Ernie, I-”

“Never mind,” he says quickly, seemingly eager to just leave. “I’ll, er, see you later.”

You stand frozen in shock while Ernie rushes down the corridor and turns the corner, leaving you and Mattheo alone. Turning slowly, you look at him with barely contained anger.

“Why the hell did you do that?” you demand, voice sharp as nails. If it weren’t past curfew and you weren’t in the middle of a school corridor, you would most definitely be yelling. Mattheo stands with his hands in his pockets, clenching his jaw and his silence makes you even angrier. You accepted long ago that you’d never have a chance with him, but now he was getting in the way of you having a chance with anyone. It was completely unfair. “What if I actually wanted to go out with him?!”

Mattheo scowls at this, but his impossibly dark brown eyes flash with a hint of uncertainty. “Did you?”

“What?” you ask, impatient.

“Did you want to go out with him?” he says, voice low and dangerous. He walks forward, towering over you and you refuse to be intimidated so you start walking backward until your back is against the wall. Despite having cornered you, he maintains a fair amount of distance between you, leaving plenty of space if you want to move away. You don’t.

“That’s none of your business,” you say stubbornly, raising your chin and trying your best to keep your voice steady. Mattheo narrows his eyes and reduces the distance between you ever so slightly with another small step. You nervously keep talking. “I can go out with whoever I want.” Another step. “And you can’t just-” One more step. “Matt.” His shoes are flush with your slippers.

“What?” he whispers, tilting his head and looking at you calmly, while you feeling anything but calm. “I can’t just… what?”

The previously respectable distance has gone out the window and instead you barely have space to breathe with the way Mattheo is leaning in, head dipped toward you but never touching, hands resting on the wall either side of you. He leans in, eyes dropping to your lips and your heart leaps in your chest with anticipation, but he ghosts his lips over your jaw instead and the barely-there contact has you breathing unevenly.

“You can’t…” you exhale, trying to finish your sentence with some dignity and failing miserably. “You can’t just scare people off like an overprotective older brother.”

Mattheo stills, lifting his head enough to meet your eyes, but making no move to distance himself any further. He scoffs quietly. “Brother,” he says the word with a mildly disgusted scowl. “Is that what you think I want to be?”

“I- I don’t…”

“You don’t know,” Mattheo finishes for you, the corners of his mouth turning up, yet his expression is devoid of humour. “No, you don’t know how badly I wanted to hex Macmillan just now. How badly I wanted to try out some new, experimental spells on that fucking Ravenclaw earlier. But none of that had anything to do with brotherly feelings.”

“They were just being nice,” you say stupidly, with not a clue in the world as to why you’re defending them right now. If anything, you’re just confused.

Mattheo quirks a brow, tongue pressing against his cheek as he considers your words. “That Ravenclaw from earlier was talking about you on the train. He said he was going to ask you out at dinner because you’d ‘gotten hot’ over summer,” Mattheo sneers, like he’s suddenly regretting not hexing Michael Corner in the Great Hall. “They weren’t being nice.”

All of a sudden, you feel irritated because you have no idea why Mattheo is telling you any of this. “What’s wrong with a boy finding me attractive? Is that such a crazy idea?” you demand, part of you not wanting him to answer.

“Merlin, do I seriously have to say it?” he groans, sighing when you glare at him. Mattheo takes a breath, meeting your eyes and you marvel at the sincerity you see when he speaks. “You didn’t ‘get hot’ over the summer. You’ve always been beautiful and they’re idiots for not paying attention then.”

Your breath catches in your throat, whether it’s from emotion or from the close proximity with Mattheo, you aren’t sure. “You think I’m beautiful?”

Mattheo nods, leaning back in to brush his nose against your own, his breath mingling with yours. “Always have.”

You take this as a cue to grab the collar of his shirt and pull him in and the next thing you know, his mouth is firm against yours, and his hands are finally touching you, grabbing you by the waist and sliding up your back to hold you closer. You’ve thought about kissing Mattheo before, but the thoughts feel utterly stupid compared to the real thing. Mattheo kisses you fiercely, mouth sliding hot and wet against your own making you come alive and weakening you at the same time. He nips at your bottom lip and you gasp, causing him to smile into the kiss. Your hands are sliding up his chest to snake around his neck when a thought suddenly occurs to you and you pull away abruptly.

“Oh my God, Theodore,” you hiss, covering your mouth with your hand. Mattheo furrows his brows, looking a little dazed and confused. “What are we going to tell him?”

 “He knows I’ve loved you since we were kids,” Mattheo says flippantly, waving you off and impatiently starting to lean in again, but you stop him with a hand on his chest. “What?”

“You’ve loved me since we were kids?” The words hardly register, but before you can feel any sort of elation, you mostly feel pissed off that your brother has clearly had his fun with the situation for years. “And Theo knows?”

“Yes,” Mattheo says slowly, as if he were talking to a child. He brushes the hair out of your face and his gaze turns a little uncertain when he speaks. “Er, this is hopefully the part where you say you feel the same way.”

“Well, of course I feel the same way,” you huff, still thoroughly annoyed at Theo. “He knew I was crazily in love with you too and the bastard was so irritating about it!”

You’re about three quarters of the way down a list of ways you want to get back at your brother when Mattheo gently turns your face by the chin to look at him. “As much as I’d love for you to plot against your brother right now, it’s kind of a mood killer thinking about him when I’m kissing you.”

“Sorry, sorry. Continue with the kissing.”

“How romantic,” he says drily. His smirk turns smug, however, when he processes your previous statement. “So… you were in love with me too. What was the word you used, again? Crazily? Crazily in love…”

“Don’t make me take it back, ‘cause I swear I will.”

© angelfic 2023.

[gay-dorito-dust]

Can I request headcanons for Sunday, Welt, Gallagher, Blade, and Dan Heng react to his shy gn s/o asking to kiss him on the lips?

Blade: finds it adorable. Absolutely adorable when you finally mustered up the courage to ask for what you want.

‘So you do have a voice?’ And or ‘the mouse has finally squeaked.’ Is what he would say with a smirk as he’d watch you get flustered and embarrassed under his gaze.

As much as he teases you for your shyness, he can’t help but feel a sense of pride for you when you took the first step in speaking your mind.

It was nice to know his lessons weren’t going to waste but then again Blade wasn’t one to hold your innate shyness against you, he just wants you to feel as though you could ask him anything without feeling bad about it.

He’s a dick but he’s instantly melting upon feeling your hands cup his face and is in utter bliss when you finally draw him in for a tender, warm kiss. It’s his one slice of heavenly reprieve that he never, ever wants to be deprived of, ever.

God forbid you stop after one kiss, this man will grow lowly and drag you back himself for more because how dare you tempt him with a mere peck, give him at least a hundred more for fuck sake.

Welt: praises you for your bravery in asking as he knows that it’s not exactly an easy thing to do when you’re naturally shy and prone to giving up before you even try.

‘I’d be more than willing to fulfil your wish to the best of my abilities.’

He’s such a gentleman who’s not afraid of going slow just for your comfort if he see you getting overwhelmed by the mere thought of having to take charge when kissing.

You did ask but Welt was more than ready to step in when it was all becoming too much and guides you through it with a soft, low voice and gentle reminders of hand placement and breathing.

He doesn’t want you passing out on him now.

And besides he’s not the type to do anything to you without your permission.

Sunday: raises his brows in amusement.

‘Oh? How bold of you to ask such a thing my dearest.’ Is his response.

It’s like a predatory watching his prey when it comes to Sunday that you were prone to reframe from speaking upon your desires because it always felt as though the Halovian could see through you. Literally.

It triggers your fight of flight response real quick but you have to remind yourself that you were safe with Sunday. (Or are you?)

He’s got that face that told you that he knew what you were going to ask him before you say anything. Whether or not it’s under unsettling is up to you.

He can obviously see that your nervous and stressed about the whole thing and will try to reassure you that neither of you were going anywhere and that you could take your time, he’ll be there whenever you felt comfortable.

He’s in no rush to be anywhere, not when you’re concerned.

Gallagher: originally thinks something is wrong when he saw you stood there unresponsive for a good few minutes, only to blurt out not even a second later, ‘can I kiss you on the lips?’

His worries fade and a smile graced his lips as he chuckled.

‘You almost had me worried there sweetheart but are you sure you want me to kiss you? What if I decide to bite?’ He’d say cheekily and never had he seen you look more flustered than anything. It’s too cute!

You’re giving this man too much power but also making him weak in the knees and want to kneel at your feet and pledge eternal loyalty to you at the same time.

However whatever you want, Gallagher will provide and if you wanted to give him a kiss, then who was he to say no to such a sweet ask?

‘Please.’ You’d add on and Gallagher could swear he melted right then and there. The magic word worked wonders in your favour as he has you sat on his lap, his big hands holding your waist steady as he waits patiently for his kiss, whsilt you felt your face burn all the way up to your ears.

However beware that one kiss becomes a million kisses with this guy as he loves the feel of your lips against his that sometimes he forgets that you both need oxygen to breathe.

Dan Heng: is equally as flustered and embarrassed as you when you asked.

His face is beat red and his eyes were practically bulging out of his head as he then looks away elsewhere and covers the lower half of his face with a hand. Curse you for being so fucking cute and polite!

He’s swears you’ll be the death of him but then again he’s not complaining.

‘Make it quick.’ He’d say but never in a mean way, he’s just genuinely about to combust if you don’t kiss him now and when you do give him a kiss so soft against his lips, you’ll have to shove his face into an ice bath or something with how unnaturally red it is.

You’re both awkward and new at this but that’s what makes every kiss you share afterwards so special and unique.

I wouldn’t put it past Dan Heng is he goes in for another kiss, he’s unabashedly become addicted to the taste of your lips.

[kquil]

SIRIUS BLACK | HIS FUTURE WIFE

request : Hi, this is my first time requesting so I don't really know how 😅, but can you write something with Sirius being in love with reader and basically just like jily type of love where he always follows her and calls his future wife — @moonlightwonderland

length : 1.1k

“There’s my girl,” Sirius grins, walking up to you with his arms open as if he was expecting a hug. 

“I’m not your girl, Sirius,” you huff, clutching your books closer to your chest and side stepping, avoiding his arms entirely. It’s been a year since Sirius Black has decided to pursue only you and abandoned his playboy persona. Now he was a committed man. His entire focus has zeroed in on you and you hate it. You hardly used to draw any attention but now, most of the female population at Hogwarts was glaring you down. It’s not your fault Sirius Black decided to turn over a new leaf and made you his primary objective; these girls need to stop making it seem like you forced Sirius to take amortentia. 

But, from the circumstances, you might as well have given him the love potion. He follows you around and does whatever he can to get your attention, even if he makes a fool of himself. He goes out of his way to buy and give you your favourite treats from Honeydukes and helpfully does your bidding wherever, whenever. It would have been a nice gesture when he brought down books from higher shelves for you that one time…if only he didn’t immediately demand a kiss as ‘thanks’ right after. He deserved being hit upside the head for that.   

You just want to be left alone so you wouldn’t have to worry about constantly being stared at by envious girls or gossiping teens who had nothing better to do with their time. 

“My future wife then,” Sirius’s boyish grin grows wider the instant you roll your eyes at him and stomp away, figuring a different route for your journey to class would help you avoid the rebellious teen. But Sirius is unrelenting, following after you with a skip in his step. 

“Stop following me, Sirius,” you groaned and quickened your pace but it was no use. His persistence is challenging and you eventually succumb to his irritable company. 

“But I don’t want to, wifey,” he protests. 

“Don’t call me that, and it doesn’t matter; I want you to leave me alone,‘ you counter. 

“No,”

“Yes,”

“No!”

“Yes!”

Your bickering is commonplace in the hallways and within classes now, although it’s more a legitimate argument for you and Sirius is just playing along. It truly was a mystery to everyone why the Sirius Black, notorious fuckboy and ladies man was suddenly abandoning all that for one girl. Only he knew the real reason. And it was frustrating, especially to you. He can’t just change everything about his mannerisms and force all that attention on you, his good looks, fun personality and enchanting eyes could only absolve him so much. You’d rather be dead before you ever confess that to him, though, it’ll only worsen your situation. 

You did have one saving grace, however. When classes were over, you could find peace and quiet down by the black lake, teetering on the borders of the forbidden forest. This was where you had met your year-long dearest friend, Snuffles. Injured and quivering from the cold, you nursed him back to health a year ago, abandoning your classes for the day so that you could make sure he got better. You knew that dogs weren’t allowed at Hogwarts so you didn’t want to risk anything by taking him to madam Pomfrey. Thankfully, his injuries weren’t too bad at the time and he just needed some company to care for him lovingly. 

“Hello handsome,” you smile upon seeing the familiar black dog through the trees of the forest. As soon as he makes eye contact with you, he bounds over with enthusiastic barks and happy tail wags, “I’m happy to see you too boy!” kneeling down, you hug him around his neck and press kisses into his soft fur, “How are we today, hm?” as if he could understand you, Snuffles barks and sits before laying down to rest his head in your lap. 

Cooing at the large beast, you begin your usual pets as you delve into how your day was going, making small jokes and giving the occasional complaint over workload and stress build up. Snuffles gives a gentle whine as he paws at your thigh as if distressed over your worries and you smile warmly. He seems so human, someone that really cares about you and your wellbeing, it was nice to have. 

“Thank you for worrying about me Snuffles,” you muse softly, “but I’m really okay…so long as Sirius Black stays the hell away from me,” you huff in annoyance. It’s only natural that the conversation directs itself to the man in question as he’s made himself a prominent part of your days for the last year, “ugh! He’s so infuriating,” you frown down at the black dog still resting in your lap, “he won’t leave me alone no matter how much I tell him to. He’s been doing it for a year now and I don’t know what’s gotten into him. Today, he actually called me his future wife! What’s that about?!” you groan and push your head back. 

The sky is a pretty blue and you stare at it for a while before you continue, looking down when you feel a significant shift in Snuffles’s postion. The large black dog sits up and leans over to prop his head up on your shoulder and press his muzzle into your neck. He finds a sensitive spot and elicits a dulcet giggle from you, “if only he was as sweet and gentle as you, Snuffles,” you sigh, a small heat climbing up your neck and settling into your cheeks, “maybe then he could finally get me, just like he wants,” Snuffles pulls away and huffs, his version of a subtle sneeze. 

“Excuse you,” you tease, reaching up to scratch at the fur on his neck before you cup his face and bring his nose close so you could boop it with your own. 

“It’s a real shame, though,” you sigh, wrapping your arms around Snuffles’s neck once more and tucking your face into his fur, “his looks are exactly my type…”  Snuffles stiffens under your embrace but you don’t notice, “and he has some good personality traits too…if only he wasn’t so irritating,” there was a stutter in Snuffles’s movement when you lean back and pet his head softly, “you know, he started acting strange like this after I met you, Snuffles…I-” it was just a passing thought but there was a sudden realisation that slowly consumes your features, reflecting primarily in your eyes. It doesn’t help that the large dog before you slowly morphs into the man you were just complaining about. 

“Clever girl,” Sirius grins as he takes your chin in his fingers and pulls you in close, his breath ticking your lips as he continues to whisper, “I expect nothing less from my future wife,”

When he kisses you, sweet but amorously, you kiss back.

a/n : my first request! lets go! i hope i did it justice darling, and i hope everybody enjoyed the read!

navi. | more oneshots

taglist : @melinajenkins @astonishment @until-i-found-you @goodoldfashionedluvergirl @tiensmamains @celestcies @lovelydoveval @inlovewithremusjohnlupin @calums-betch @futurecorps3 @hihihi1112 @simpingforthe80s @yrluvjane @rosaleenablack

[popopretty]

[Translation] Asagiri Kafka's afterwords for The Day I Picked up Dazai novel

Normally, afterwords would be the last thing I read in a novel, but as there are not many changes to the published novel this time compared to the movie bonus version, I was able to skim through the text quickly and get to this. And to be honest, despite not being a writer myself, I was so moved by Asagiri's views about writing and his characters that he shared in the afterwords, that I had to sit down and translate it right away.

This is just my crappy translation, as usual, but I hope it gave you a short, interesting look into the author and the characters. And please do not forget to buy the novel if you have the chance.

The translation is under the cut, thank you!

It has been a while. This is Asagiri Kafka.

Have you been enjoying Bungou Stray Dogs?

This novel, “The Day I Picked up Dazai”, is a compilation of the first week’s bonus novel “The Day I Picked up Dazai – Side A” and the second week’s bonus novel “The Day I Picked up Dazai – Side B” for the screening of “Bungou Stray Dogs BEAST” movie (hereinafter referred to as “BEAST”).

Normally, it is difficult to publish a bonus like this, but since "BEAST” and “Fifteen” that were published earlier by BEANS Bunko were originally bonus novels too, "The Day I Picked up Dazai” was also published in the same way, thanks to the efforts of all parties involved in the Bungou Stray Dogs series.

It is the story of Dazai and Odasaku’s first meeting, where Dazai who wants to die, collapsed in front of Odasaku’s place, who is neither a mafioso nor a hit man.

Why are there two different stores, Side A and Sode B? Regarding this question, please read the novel and see for yourself. If you keep in mind that this is the bonus for the BEAST movie, I think you will be able to understand it better.

Let me reminisce a little bit here.

This story was actually suggested to me by Igarashi Takuya, Director of the Bungou Stray Dogs anime.

Shortly before BEAST movie premiered, I was struggling. It was because I was asked to write a bonus novel for movie-goers again. I said “again” because, as I mentioned earlier, BEAST itself was a bonus novel for the Bungou Stray Dogs DEAD APPLE movie. I remembered having a hard time writing it, because I let myself run wild and wrote a total of 190 pages instead of 50 pages as requested.

But I had learnt my lesson after the last rampage. I can’t just write whatever I want anymore. I have to wrap the story in a reasonable length, like a pro should do.

A proper, professional story.

Huh?

My pen stopped right there. I stopped, looked around, feeling lost.

What is a proper story?

The act of writing novel is quite different in character compared to other types of media such as writing manga, anime scripts, or game scenarios. You can say it is almost a different thing. Writing novels, rather than narrating an event, is more like putting the flow of emotions into specific sentences. You use the sequence of letters to create rhythms, create flows, and create emotions. If anything, it might be closer to composing a song than writing a story.

Therefore, you have to decide “what kind of emotion will be put in this novel” from the very beginning, or you can’t start writing. That is the only and absolute rule.

Now, however, that is where the condition of a “proper story” hung over me.

A proper novel, of a proper volume, with a proper content for a bonus.

In other words, a proper emotion.

I searched through the drawers inside my head. For a proper emotion that is waiting to be brought out.

There was nothing but emptiness there.

A professional story teller is one with the skill to move the readers’ emotions. When people find the chance to move their own emotions, they will happily be paying for it. Human-being is that kind of creature.

And writers are ones who create and sell those kinds of emotions: the fear, the excitement, the heart throb etc., those that make you think. It is that kind of job.

It is supposed to be that kind of job.

Yet I became unable to move forward.

A good story is a story that moves people. I know that. Then what kind of emotion I should put in the story to make it "proper"?

How do I find that emotion?

I mean, how did I even write novels until now?

I stood still. My legs stiffened, my knees froze, unable to take even a step forward.

I then tried to at least pretend that I was moving forward, by listening to music, by taking a walk around the neighborhood at night. But as good as the night breeze felt, I didn’t manage to reach a single story that I needed to write.

What if I stayed like this forever, what would I do?

I felt a chill plunging into my back.

Then I realized, that stories, or probably emotions too, are not things you can search for or come up with. You have no choice but to patiently wait for it to come your way. You have no choice but to humbly and earnestly sit and wait for the story’s visit.

I got that, but the "proper 50-page story” still refused to come.

It was not long before one week passed. Then two weeks.

I was doing other work, while keeping my heart’s door open, waiting for the story to come to me.

At that time, I had an online meeting with the anime staff. I casually asked Director Igarashi, “Do you have any story you want to see?”

The Director gave it a little thought then told me, "I want to see the story of Dazai and Oda’s encounter”.

At that very moment, the story rushed in through my door, like a bang. I could hear that sound very clearly.

Two stories. Odasaku, and the two Dazais. A story where they met, and a story where they couldn’t meet. A story of gain and a story of loss. If I can portray the gain and loss side by side, the amplitude of the heart will be doubled and rise up in front of us.

That was a momentary event. Rather than pushing my way forward, I felt as if something was pulling my hand. Before I noticed, I have already finished the stories.

I came to realize.

It is not the writer who searches for the story. It is the story that chooses its writer, and at some point it will come our way. A professional writer is no more than someone with the ability to catch that call.

Also, this is the most important thing: there is no such thing as a “proper emotion”. Because after all, the feelings of other people belong to them only. That is why there is no guarantee that a novel can move others “properly”. However, you can move your own emotions. You know what kind of novel can and how it will move you. If you do, you can write just that. That’s the only way. That is the truly professional attitude. That’s what I thought.

Well then.

It is a little bit off topic, but as we are talking about “stories that come our way”, let’s talk about Odasaku’s first-person narrative.

Odasaku is a special character. For me, he is exclusively a novel character, and I have never portrayed him in the manga.

He first appeared as the narrator in “Dazai Osamu and The Dark Era”, then “BEAST” and now this “The Day I Picked up Dazai”. All are novels. That’s why for me, Odasaku doesn’t live inside the pictures, he lives inside the first-person narrative passages.

He is an eccentric guy. Even if you prepare the place and tell him to speak, he won’t speak to you that easily. His way of thinking is rather unique, that if I write his narrative after writing other characters’ first-person narrative, I would stumble for sure. Odasaku doesn’t speak. He just sits there in silence, while I can do nothing but sitting in front of my blank manuscript paper, trying to talk to him, like “What’s up?”, “Here, here”. However, he is a guy who won’t speak when it is not necessary. Sometimes it goes days or even weeks without him saying a word. Why did such a character come to me...?

During such time, there is only one thing I can do. That is, of course, to stay with him, sit patiently, and simply wait.

Finally he will start speaking. In his unique rhythm, word by word. His words have the power to cut through the world from a certain angle. That special cross-section is full of things I have never seen before and it never fails to surprise me.

And then when he finishes telling his story, he will swiftly disappear. To a dark and quiet place somewhere – probably, I can only imagine, somewhere like a bar. He will sit there calmly and keep his own time to himself. After that, it will be hard to call him again. It is a backbreaking task to me, but in the end, that is the type of guy Odasaku is, and if I am allowed to sound self-conscious, that is Odasaku's charm.

This story was written in such a way. There is a chance that he will come back again. And when he does, I will patiently listen to his voice again.

This story was completed and published thanks to the help of many people: in the Bungou Stray Dogs BEAST movie’s Production Committee, the anime staff, Young Ace’s Editorial Department, BEANS Bunko’s Editorial Department, and the many people who were involved in the publication of the book. Thank you very much. It is all thanks to you that the book was published without any problem this time as well.

Well then, see you in the next story.

Asagiri Kafka.

[yanfeisty]

⠀⠀⠀꒰͡ ⠀ ִ ♡ kisses headcanons. ׅ ׄ ⠀ ͡꒱

Their way of kissing are so special that it’s more than a simple romantic gesture from first glance, and you should know it as their lover, especially when you are the reason of what makes them special in the first place. This includes Argenti, Blade, Childe and Alhaitham from Honkai Star Rail and Genshin. Content warnings: small mention of death in Blade's part.⠀⠀Have a great time with your husbandos!⠀⠀ ︵ ⠀⠀ ̼

⠀‣ Argenti

How often: Nearly every day, if he doesn’t then he is away. How can he resist the need to embrace you, when his heart beats at a fast pace and he's at a loss for words each time his eyes lay on you, the only way he can communicate is by locking your lips and moving them together. Moreover, since it is his duty as a knight of beauty to make every creature know their true beauty and value, what a better way to show it to you than a kiss, one that makes you feel like the most treasured creature in the cosmos.

Types of kisses: The one that is like a promise. It’s such a typical gesture of him to bow to you with a kneel on the ground and sometimes, a hand on his heart as a sign of his devotion to always be your knight. While his other hand envelopes yours, approaches it to his lips, and delicately brush the back of your hand with his thumb like it is made of glass, before leaving a small peck on it.

The lovey dovey one, where he reaches for your hand but this time he grabs it to pull you close to him, and leaves a trail of kisses from your wrist to your face in a quick pace, you don’t even have time to speak before he reaches your mouth and shush your words. It always catches you off guard because you can’t see his heart skipping a beat whenever he remembers why he loves you so much.

The gentle and most frequent one. His fingers find themselves under your chin, deviating your eyes from whatever you were focusing on to his sparkly light green ones, “May I have this kiss?” He will always ask first the permission like a gentleman, because he would hate to force his love upon you. It’s neither too light nor overly passionate, just enough to make you flustered by the delicacy of his lips.

Kissing in public: He has no problem to do it in public, it became a natural habit of his to kiss you, and there’s nothing that’s going to stop him from it, not even the eyes of other people watching you like they're watching a romantic movie, although you’re being hidden by his voluminous hair. It doesn’t help that he stands out of the crowd with his unique and charming look. However, he’ll understand your discomfort if you tell him. “Forgive me, my love. I do not see the crowd when I’m being mesmerized by your beauty.”

Extra: It’s also the way he holds you, one of his hand holding your face while the other envelopes your waist to get you closer, it feels neither oppressing nor dominating, but comforting like he'll always be with you. He also smells like roses, which adds to the experience, you’ll definitely have his scent on you after being this close to him.

⠀‣ Blade

How often: Rarely, Blade doesn't display much emotion nor does he feel a lot of them, so don't expect to get a lot of affection from him. Though sometimes, when the burden becomes too much to bear and a wave of agitation hits him, he finds some comfort in you. Despair and violence used to be his only solutions to deal with it, but you somehow make him feel a bit better, he is not sure why, but your lips do pacify his illness a little.

Types of kisses: The desperate one, where you can feel all his emotion he puts in it, maybe his lips will taste bitter because of the feeling of revenge or sloppy when he is distressed. It's not perfect but it's no less true. He shouldn't be able to rely on someone this badly and show his moments of weakness, and yet, he is unable remove his lips from yours until he can’t breathe anymore and forgets the pain.

The shut up one. You’re talking too much. This irritates him. He just wants to silence those unnecessary ramblings of yours before he goes crazy. So, he forcefully brings your mouth to his for it to stop moving. “Will you shut up now, or do I need to do it for you?”

Kissing in public: It would be showing his weaker self, you’re the only one allowed to see it. He doesn't like when you try to kiss him, because he would rather not be the subject of teasing from his colleagues, even if he knows it's already the case and he can't stop it. It's so weird for everyone, especially for those who know him to see this cold and scary heart letting someone this close to him, and having his cheeks showing a small hint of embarrassment because of them.

Extra: Kissing his scars, it somehow heals them, not that he feels any physical pain, but when he sees his body full of stitches it reminds him how he should be dead, but you deviate this thought from him to a more pleasant one. His body is like a walking corpse, pale and cold, and yet, by feeling your lips on his brings some... warmth. Feeling life surging through his veins doesn’t feel so bad for once. “Please... Don't stop.”

⠀‣ Childe

How often: Since he's often sent on missions, he makes the most of the time he spends with you. Plenty of kisses you'll receive a kiss as a reminder that his heart will always be with you, no matter the distance.

Types of kisses: The kissing ambush, you’re just so adorable sometimes, he can’t help but squish your face with his palms and peck it without stopping. You’re stucked between his hands who hold you dearly, and you aren’t able to say a word because he’ll cut it off with a kiss. “Haha… Don't look at me like that, love. You're the one being too cute here.”

The eskimo kiss. The freezing cold of Snezhnaya isn't merciful, especially for those who aren't used to it. Childe is always here to warm you up when you need it, and one of his greatest technique is to rub your nose together. The skin contact and his melodious laugh which lets out a hot breath brings heat to your face, and erases completely the cold from your skin.“Perhaps it worked a little too well, your cheeks are burning.”

Kissing in public: He isn't one to be ashamed to show that he loves and cares for his loved ones, and you're no exception. However, when it comes to more 'passionate' kisses compared to the light ones or if you feel shy, he'll always find a good place to hide in when you'll be left alone, and it would be lying to say he doesn't like the risk of getting caught by someone, to the point you can feel that his actions are too bold for the place you’re in.

Extra: When inflicted by minor or deadly injuries, he claims that the only way to heal them is with a kiss, and he won't take any medicine before he gets one. You might be irritated by his stubbornness and childish behavior when he is on the edge of dying, but for him who had plenty of injuries before that his body became indifferent to them, he can’t miss the opportunity to tease you when your face is painted with concern, which honestly melts his heart at the sight of it.

⠀‣ Alhaitham

How often: Alhaitham is more affection than someone might think, just not publicly. It's frequently that you'll share small affectionate moments together, he doesn’t kiss a lot though, he prefers other skin contact like having your body on his or him having a hand on you, it feels relaxing and honestly he can’t think of a better situation than have you close to him.

Types of kisses: The goodnight one. It's regularly that you're reading together, very close to each other. The most comfortable position is when you put your head on his torso, and you both hold each side of the book. And each time, the relaxing atmosphere plus the lullaby made by his heartbeat doesn’t fail to drive you slowly to sleep. When Alhaitham notices it that you fell asleep when you still haven’t turn page, he'll plant a small kiss on the top of your head before stroking it as a way to say goodnight. It’s a habit that he’ll never get tired of.

The one he uses to silence you. Alhaitham doesn't like meaningless noises, he may tolerate your voice more than he does with any person, but not when it says things that are straight up wrong or disturb his peace. Without any warning, he'll pin you against the closest wall. The action makes you stumble over whatever you were saying, it doesn't help that your breathing gets reduced as he approaches. You finally stop trying to when your lips are seal by his before, he leaves you stunned without any words.

The lazy one. Alhaitham likes a comfortable lifestyle, and you can feel it in his kisses. He doesn't do much effort, his hand is loosely holding the back of your head while his lips brush yours gently, and eventually lean into it. “It's not essential work anyway, you can stay here until you regain the energy needed for it”. Always the same excuse for him not move and still keep you in his arms, but it’s always working.

Kissing in public: He doesn't necessarily want to have your relationship become a subject of chatter that is mixed with opinions he didn’t ask for. Not that he cares about what people think, but it can create rumors or even problems that he'll be forced to resolve, and also make him become the center of attention, which isn’t something he desires. He prefers doing it at home because it’s a more comfortable place anyway.

Extra: It's such a weird coincidence that Alhaitham suddenly wants to kiss you each time Kaveh enters the room. Kaveh who's first flustered because he feels like an intruder, and quickly shuts the door. Then he becomes frustrated when he notices that Alhaitham does it purposefully to annoy him, he shouts things like “Oh my God, have some decency and get a room!”, now Alhaitham could riposte by telling him to get his own house first… but honestly he prefers to save his breath when he’s kissing you.

‘𝓣𝐇𝐄 𝓔𝐍𝐃  Please don’t copy/translate and don’t reblog with yand3r3 tags, also if you’re a yand3r3 blog/reblog account, or you’ll be blocked. Besides that, likes/reblogs/comments are appreciated. 

Taglist:⠀@avensuersa <3

[worldlxvlys]

can u do one where the reader actually rocks Chris’ toxic girlfriends shit PLEASEEEEEE

and btw you an amazing writertrr

reader x chris who has a toxic gf (part 4)

chris sturniolo x reader

warnings: cursing, violence, mention of sex

a/n: thank youuu and i hope you like :)

previous part

if someone told me two days ago that i’d be standing in my kitchen, baking cookies with chris and his girlfriend, i would’ve looked at them like they were crazy. yet here i am, doing exactly that.

it was chris’s bright idea for the three of us to spend time together, “i want you guys to try to get along” were his exact words.

i offered to do it at my house, so i could kick layla’s ass out when i got sick of her.

so now, here we were, baking cookies together. we hadn’t even been at it for longer than five minutes before layla started to piss me off.

“what the hell type of cookie sheet is this? it looks like you got it from the dollar tree” she snickered.

the sound of her voice was like nails on a chalkboard, she was obviously making it higher on purpose.

i gave her an odd look at this, “i did. why would i pay for expensive ass cooking sheets?” i squinted my eyes at her.

she looked taken aback, probably expecting me to take her words to heart.

“for real. who cares where you got it? as long as it works” chris agreed.

when he saw the look on layla’s face, his eyes widened slightly and he cleared his throat awkwardly.

chris grabbed the bag of cookie dough, starting to hand it to me.

i went to grab it before layla, who stood on my other side, reached around me and took it.

“great, let’s get started!” she spoke, an annoyingly wide grin covering her face.

i glanced at chris, giving him a look to express my annoyance without verbalizing it.

he gave me a pleading look, silently asking me to try.

letting her open the bag, i reached for the parchment paper, lining my “cheap” cookie sheets.

i watched as she struggled to open the bag, letting out dramatic huffs and puffs.

“baby, can you open this for me? my nails-” she stopped talking when i grabbed the bag from her, ripping it open.

my nails were longer than hers, however, i opened the bag without a problem.

“it’s not the nails” i spoke to her as i separated the pre-cut dough.

“and next time, if you can’t open something, don’t take it from someone who actually can” i finished.

she let out a sigh, her lips turning into a slight pout. “whatever” she said.

once the dough was separated, chris and i started to place it on the cookie sheet.

i glanced over at her, noticing that she was just standing there.

“are you actually gonna put the cookies on the sheet, or are your nails too long to do that too?” i asked.

her face dropped at that, her brows furrowing slightly. a deep frown grew on her face and she looked like she was going to cry.

“ok, i’m not just gonna stand here and let you belittle me” she said, catching me by surprise. she seemed like i genuinely upset her.

“and, you, chris ? you just let her talk to me however she wants. i’m not some monster, i have feelings” her voice broke when she spoke, “but all you care about is her”.

i pressed my lips together when chris made no effort to deny her statement, well this is awkward.

chris and i just stood there, staring at her with wide eyes.

“whatever” she shook her head, “can you just bring me home? i’m not feeling great” she asked as she looked at chris.

i squinted my eyes at her, confused. “didn’t you drive here? how is he supposed to take you home?”

chris shot a look at me that said are you serious?

“ok, forget it. never mind” i spoke, holding my hands up.

“i was asking if he could come home with me” she spoke quietly.

“yeah, just let me go use the bathroom real fast” he spoke quickly. he turned to me, “please just leave her alone” he said before walking towards my bathroom.

as soon as he left the room, her face turned into a light smirk.

my eyebrows rose as her eyes, which still had tears in them, held an evil glint.

what the fuck?

“isn’t he so gullible? all it took was a few fake tears to get him on my side” she said, her voice now at its normal pitch.

“see, the difference between you and me? you may have him wrapped around your finger, but i know exactly how to get what i want from him” she spoke.

“well, that and the fact that you’re a manipulative, lying bitch” i said.

“yet i’m the one in a relationship with him. i just know that shit hurts” she said.

her words definitely struck a nerve, but i’d never admit it.

“i’m the one who’ll be taking him home. and once he finishes comforting me, i’ll bat my eyelashes at him. tell him how much your words hurt me, and that i need a distraction”

“before i know it, i’ll be under him. i’ll hear him moan my name because, like i said, i always get what i want. call it manipulative if you want, i have needs” she shrugged once she finished.

“he’s a good fuck, it’s a shame you w-” she started but was cut off by my fist making contact with her face.

there was a sickening crack that echoed through the kitchen, as she fell back into the chair behind her. she held onto her nose, screaming out in pain.

“stand the fuck up” i told her, as she started to actually cry.

she didn’t listen, she just sat there and continued to sob.

“i told you what would happen, bitch. i don’t know why you thought i was joking” i said as i got closer to her, making her shrink away from me.

“you don’t get to talk about chris like that. your ungrateful ass doesn’t deserve him.” i grabbed her by her ponytail, making her cry out in pain.

i pulled her to her feet in one swift motion before letting go of her. i pushed her in the direction of my door, “get the fuck out of my house or i swear to god a broken nose will be the least of your problems” i said.

instead of listening to me, she spun around quickly. she swung at me, but i moved back quickly, only receiving a scratch to the face from her nails.

i swept my foot out, making her lose balance and fall to the ground. without missing a beat, i climbed on top of her and punched her over and over again.

all i could think about was the way she talked about chris, as though he was simply a thing that she used for her own pleasure.

if she thought i was just going to sit back and allow her to treat chris that way, she was wrong.

i got in a few more punches before a pair of strong arms wrapped around my waist, pulling me away from her.

“what the fuck are you doing?” chris yelled as he let go of me.

my face fell as i realized how bad the situation seemed. when he left she was crying and now here i was beating the shit out of her.

“chris, just let me explain” i said as he rushed over to her.

“explain? what is there to explain? when i left she was sobbing, and she still is. why would you do this?” he yelled.

i backed away from him at the tone he used, realizing how mad he was.

he picked her up bridal style, before walking towards the door.

when he walked past me, he mumbled something before walking out of the door.

“all i asked was for you to try.”

💟💟💟💟

yikes 😬😬

i think i’m gonna make this a series, should i ?

MASTERLIST #1.

MASTERLIST #2.

tag list: @lustfulslxt @flowerxbunnie @sturnssx @mattslolita @its-jennarose @sophssturn @bernardsleftbootycheek @queen161718 @cupidsword @imwetforyourmom @nickmillersn1gf @stramboli4life @mattsneezing @chrisstankyleg @sturniolobltch @ciarasturn1 @bethsturn @bernardenjoyer @mbbsgf @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @ssturniolo @blueeyedbesson @mxqdii @sturniolowhore @heraakayourname @defnotayonna @urmom2bitch @abbie13sworld @starsturniolo @hearts4chriss @theyluv-meee @carolinalikesthings @itzdarling @chrisstopherfilmed @judespoision @sstvrnioloo @littlebookworm803 @nicksdrpepper @chrisloyalgf @robins-scoop @fandomhopped @chr1sgirl4life @bbglmfao @55sturn @sturniolololover @meg-sturniolo @mattsnymphette @leah-loves-lilies @vanteguccir @ineedchriscock

[fluentmoviequoter]

Yell at Me and Tell Me You Love Me

Requested Here!

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!reader

Summary: You distance yourself from Tim because you think he is still in love with Isabel. When he confronts you about why you've been avoiding him, you accidentally tell him the truth.

Warnings: angst to fluff, argument, friends to lovers, the timeline of Tim and Isabel's relationship is probably off but I needed to make everything fit

Word Count: 3.0k+ words

A/N: The first title I typed was "Yell at Me, Tell Me You Love Me, But Don't Push Me Away" and I'd just like to say (a very sarcastic) you're welcome for shortening it. (Unless you like the original, then I'm sorry.)

Picture from Pinterest

Masterlist | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

You met Tim Bradford less than a week after he left the Army and quickly became one of his closest friends. Despite the secret kisses shared without thought, holding each other tightly for no reason, and falling asleep in each other’s arms, you continue to be just friends with Tim Bradford. Being part of his life for so long means you’ve seen more than most. You were at Tim and Isabel’s wedding, gave him a place to stay after the divorce, and you fell in love with him without even trying.

Since his divorce from Isabel, you’ve shared a few more thoughtless kisses, said “I love you” before ending phone calls, and slept in the same bed simply for comfort on more than one occasion. You know you need to stop, however, because Tim is still attached to Isabel, as far as you can tell. She calls occasionally, and he rushes to answer the phone, leaving you like an afterthought as the woman he truly loves becomes available again. You’re unwilling to be a rebound or a distraction while Tim works on his relationship with Isabel, but you can’t decide how to set a boundary you don’t want.

It's nearly midnight, and you can’t sleep with thoughts of Tim running through your head. As you consider the idea of simply giving him space, letting him know that you both have things you need to deal with before you can be his friend again, your phone rings. Tim’s name and face light up your dark room and life before you answer.

“Hey,” you greet.

“Hi. I- did I wake you up?” Tim asks.

“No, I couldn’t sleep.”

“Me neither. Are you okay?”

When Tim asks that question, you realize that the only thing you want from or for Tim is for him to be happy. Alone, in the dark, you acknowledge that the only way for him to be happy is if you are willing to move out of the way of what he really wants. If you step away and give him room to work out his feelings toward Isabel, maybe he can find what he wants and focus entirely on that.

Tim says your name, and you rush to say, “Yeah, I’m fine, just- just thinking.”

“You want me to come over?” he offers.

“No,” you answer quickly – too quickly. “It’s late, and I’m really fine. Are you?”

Tim sighs before answering, “I guess. Isabel called today to tell me she’s going back to rehab. She wants me to come by once a week, act as part of her support plan.”

“Do you think it’s a good idea?”

“I enabled Isabel for so many years that I don’t know.”

“You’ll do the right thing, Tim. You always do.”

A memory of last week, when Tim kissed you during a walk on the beach, flashes through your mind. Was that the right thing?

“Or you have too much faith in me,” he argues.

“I think I have just the right amount of faith in you.”

“It’s your turn to pick dinner on Friday.”

You see an opening to pull back and tighten your grip on your phone as you ask, “Actually, can we skip this week? I’m swamped and don’t know if I’ll be able to make it. I’d hate to leave you waiting.”

Tim hesitates before agreeing, “Sure. Just let me know when you’re free. We can do whatever you want.”

“I will,” you reply softly. “I’m getting tired now, though, so goodnight, Tim. And good luck with Isabel and your decision.”

“Yeah, thanks. Goodnight.”

You bite your tongue to keep from saying I love you one last time, and as you set your phone down, actively pulling away from your best friend, you want to call him back and ask if you ever had a chance. Instead, you press your face into your pillow and force yourself to think about other things as you fall asleep.

✯✯✯✯✯

You sit in bed and stare at your phone as your finger hovers over the star beside Tim’s contact. When you remove him from your favorites list, everything will begin to feel real. Just as you lower your finger, your phone buzzes with a text from Tim. Three simple words make your heart pound as you read them.

Call me, please.

You want more information before you decide to call him or not. Distancing yourself will be hard enough without Tim vying for your attention the entire time you pull away. Clicking the star so it disappears, you make the first step in separating your life from Tim Bradford’s.

“Please be the right choice,” you whisper, staring at his contact photo. “I just want you to be happy. Happier than I could make you.”

An hour later, your phone rings, and you send Tim to voicemail. If it is an emergency, he’ll leave a voicemail. With each unanswered call and text, the time between them lengthens. Maybe Tim has already realized you weren’t as important to him as you both seemed to think.

By the end of the first day not talking to Tim, you want to scream and cry simultaneously. It’s hard to lose a friend, but harder to lose the one person you love. Reminding yourself constantly that you’re doing it for Tim and his happiness, you don’t give yourself time to think about how much your decision and the distance are hurting you. You knew Tim would hurt for a while before finding his way back to Isabel, but you weren’t expecting to feel like a piece of your heart had been ripped out. That’s what you get for giving it to Tim without telling him, you suppose.

✯✯✯✯✯

After a sleepless night of tossing and turning, someone knocks on your door as the sun rises over Los Angeles. You roll out of bed and pull a sweatshirt over your head before looking through the peephole. Tim stands on the other side of the door and speaks before you can think about pretending to be gone.

“I know you’re here,” Tim calls. “I don’t have a lot of time, just wanted to check on you before work.”

After you open the door, you look out at him and give him a closed-lip smile. He looks at you like he can see straight through you, and you wouldn’t be surprised if he could.

“We made a huge arrest last night and a couple of us are going out tonight to celebrate,” he says instead. “Do you want to come out with us?”

“Uh, no, but thanks for the offer. I’ve got a lot going on right now, and-“

“Like what?”

You tilt your head to the side, wondering what he means.

“What’s got you so busy that you can’t even text me back?”

“I- I don’t want to talk about it right now, Tim,” you say, opting to deflect rather than lie. “But congratulations on the arrest and have fun tonight.”

Tim’s jaw tightens as he nods. You watch as he walks away, wishing you could run after him. As you close your door, you decide that slowly pulling back will not work; if you want to give Tim room to find his way back to Isabel, you must leave him.

Pushing your fist against the closed door, you take a deep breath before walking through your place and gathering everything that reminds you of Tim. After placing it in a box, you shove it into your closet. Next, you turn off the notifications in your phone, so you won’t be tempted to answer when he calls or texts. The hurt of losing Tim worsens with each action as you pull yourself further away from him.

“Please be happy,” you beg as you close the door on your box of memories.

✯✯✯✯✯

“You’re grumpier than usual,” Nolan notices. “I mean- sorry,” he adds quickly.

“Timothy,” Angela calls. “A word?”

“No,” Tim replies.

“Bradford, now.”

Tim rolls his eyes as he stands and walks to her desk. She gestures for him to sit, and while he should feel like a kid in the principal’s office, he feels more like a man being told his wife is divorcing him and having to maintain a brave face even as his heart shatters in his chest.

“What do you want, Lopez?” he asks. “No small talk.”

“I wouldn’t dream of trying with you, Timothy. I want to know what’s up with you and why you’re taking it out on everyone here.”

“It’s none of your business.”

“You’re making it our business by pushing your frustration, or whatever it is you’re dealing with, off onto us. Is it Isabel? I heard she’s back in rehab.”

“No,” Tim answers, scoffing as he leans back. “It’s not Isabel.”

“Is there any chance that part of you still cares about her, and even if you’re lying to me and yourself about it, Isabel still affects you?” Angela asks.

“No, Lopez. I can guarantee that this has nothing to do with Isabel. She asked me to visit her as part of her support plan and I told her I would think about it, but the ‘source of my frustration’ hasn’t even let me do that.”

“Timothy, just tell me what’s bothering you and maybe I can help,” she offers quietly.

Tim stands as he replies, “You can’t. The only one who can help me with this is avoiding me.”

Angela’s brows furrow as she wonders who he could be referring to. Tim is adamant this isn’t about Isabel, but Angela can’t think of anyone else with this level of pull over him.

“Let me know if you change your mind and want to talk, Tim.”

“Will do,” he answers, though he and Angela know it’s a lie.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Isabel!” Tim calls, jogging to catch up to her. “Hey.”

“Hi,” she replies, hugging him quickly. “I thought you were going to call my sponsor with your decision.”

“I was, and I did. But I also wanted to let you know, in person, that I can’t be part of your support plan. At least, not right now, not after everything I did over the last few years.”

Isabel nods as she guesses, “You feel partially responsible and don’t want to risk letting me fall back into my old ways. I get it, Tim, but thanks for considering it.”

Tim nods, and Isabel can tell something is bothering him.

“You want to stay? Talk for a bit?” she asks.

“I can’t. I’ve got a work thing,” he replies. “Thank you, though, and good luck with everything. I’ll be back by when I have some time.”

“Tim,” Isabel interjects, wrapping her hand around his forearm. “I recognize that look. I only saw it once, and it didn’t turn out well for me. Whatever it is you want to say to whoever it is, just say it.”

“I don’t know how,” Tim admits.

“My take: if she’s important enough to affect you like this, you’ll find a way to let her know what you’re feeling.”

“What if she doesn’t care, Isabel?”

“I can’t tell you what to do, Tim, but I can tell you that waiting too long doesn’t make things any easier… I have to go, I’ve got a group meeting, but, Tim, what’s worth the risk: saying something or keeping it quiet until it’s too late?”

Tim nods before he waves as Isabel turns toward another building. Tim texts Nolan that won't be at the celebratory gathering while he walks to his truck. He knows where he needs to go but doesn’t know how to deal with everything once he gets there. Hopefully, seeing you will give him the right words to say.

✯✯✯✯✯

You broke your heart trying to let Tim be happy and keep yourself from getting hurt in the fallout of losing him. Your house seems bare, every picture and memory of Tim tucked away in a failed attempt to keep your mind off him. A knock draws you out of your miserable reverie. Whoever it is knocks again when you leave it unanswered, the sound harsher and louder than the first time. 

“Coming!” you call.

You open the door without thinking and are surprised to see Tim standing on the other side.

“Can I come in?” he asks in response to your stunned silence.

Say no, your mind says, but your heart makes you step back and invite him inside again. Pushing him away the second time will be much worse, but you can’t seem to stay away from Tim.

“Whenever you’re ready,” Tim says.

He leans against your kitchen counter with his arms crossed, waiting for an explanation you don’t want to give. The whole point of making room for him and Isabel to reconcile (like he wants) was for Tim to figure it out himself.

“Ready for what?” you ask defensively.

Tim shakes his head and scoffs as he tightens his arms over his chest. “You’re unbelievable, you know that? After everything we’ve been through together, you really expect to avoid me without an explanation or question?”

“Everything we’ve been through?” you repeat incredulously. “We’re friends, Tim. Friends stop hanging out when one of them gets busy.”

“Oh, now we’re friends? Were we friends when you crawled into my bed three weeks ago, or when we were making out on the beach? Because that didn’t feel very friendly,” he snaps.

“No, we weren’t friends; I was just a woman who made a mistake,” you reply.

“Am I your friend or am I a mistake?” Tim demands. “Because you can’t seem to keep your story straight. It’s a simple question: why are you avoiding me?”

“If I’m such a bad friend, why does it matter, Tim?”

Tim pushes off the counter, stepping toward you. His jaw clenches, and his biceps flex as he raises his arms in question. You would kiss him any other time, but right now, you’re angry that he can’t just trust you are busy. Granted, it is a lie, but you don’t appreciate the accusation, which is likely your emotions talking.

“I’m not answering your question unless you answer mine,” he says.

“Then I guess we’re not going anywhere.”

Tim looks up at the ceiling before asking, “Why?”

“I’m not going to stand here and argue with you all night. If you think I’m a liar, just say it, Tim!”

“Well, you are the one keeping secrets.”

“So, what, you think I’m avoiding you? Then get out and let me!” you demand.

“And go where? In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not surrounded by friends, and I thought you were one of the few I had, but I can see now that I made a mistake.”

“Me too.”

“I’m sorry that your precious, perfect little world decided to turn you into this,” Tim seethes, looking into your eyes as he steps toward the door.

You move with him, chest to chest, as you yell, “And I’m sorry that you couldn’t figure out I love you enough to let you go back to Isabel!”

Tim falls silent, and your chest heaves with anger. You realize what you admitted, drop your gaze to Tim’s chest, and lick your lips before lowering your voice to speak again.

“Maybe I was stupid for chasing after you when I knew you weren’t interested, that your heart would always be with someone else. I thought that someday you’d realize that everything I’ve done over the last few years has been for you; I’ve been chasing you just to find out that I never had a chance.”

“I don’t want to go back to Isabel,” Tim says after a moment of tense silence. “I went to see her today to tell her that I couldn’t be there for her anymore. If I’ve been acting different, chasing after someone, it’s because I’m falling for you.”

“You don’t fall,” you argue quietly.

“You deserve better,” Tim adds. “I don’t remember what it’s like to share my life with someone who cares about me and wants the same thing.”

You nod and try to step back, but Tim moves with you. The couch is right behind you, and you have nowhere to go, so you look into Tim’s eyes.

“I am not in love with Isabel,” Tim repeats. “You really started avoiding me because you thought I was?”

“What else was I supposed to do?”

“You could have asked instead of forcing me to start a yelling match for answers,” Tim replies, his lips quirking up into a small smile.

“I want you to be happy, Tim,” you explain. “And I thought that couldn’t happen if I was in the way.”

“You’re not in the way. You’re exactly where I want you.”

“Where is that?” you ask, leaning toward Tim.

“Right in the middle of my life.”

You raise your arms over Tim’s shoulders, smiling as his hands meet your waist. Tim pushes you against the back of the couch as he kisses you. He moves a hand up to cradle your head as you move with him. This kiss differs from the others; there is a need for more, an apology, and love coursing through you and Tim. Tim pulls back, and you pant for air as he places his hands on either side of your hips and leans forward.

“Just talk to me next time, would you?” he requests.

“And miss out on this? No way,” you argue.

“Don’t seem so excited about getting to yell at me for so long.”

 “You’ve never kissed me like that before,” you say before you distract Tim by moving your hands to his chest.

“You’ve never told me you love me before today.”

“Sorry I had to avoid you for a while to confess it.”

“Maybe we can do it again soon, without the insults before.”

“I don’t know,” you muse. “Insults and yelling are kind of your thing.”

Tim cuts you off, kissing you again and tipping you over the back of the couch. You laugh as he catches himself and hovers over you.

“I love you too, even though you were too blind to see I felt the same,” Tim whispers.

[agustdiv1ne]

dom!tutor!yn x sub!stoner!cocky!beomgyu who doesn't even care abt college, only wants to get in yns pants

ada. you just kinda got a lil fic out of me with this one so i made it pretty n aesthetic (might have to make this an actual fic, like. a Long one bc this concept is doing smth to me....) honestly, this turned into more of a switch!beomgyu x femdom!reader thing so i apologize for that,, HOWEVER, he is submissive for most of this <3

wc: 1.8k

(MDNI!!!!!!! and please stop asking for a part 2)

beomgyu couldn’t give less of a shit about college. his parents are rich — they could buy his degree if he asked them to — so what the fuck is he doing? why is he not in his dorm right now getting high off his ass? why is he here, sitting in this musty study room in the library? for him, that’s easy to answer: it’s all because of you, the pretty thing that he’s roped into being his physics tutor.

you’re currently trying to explain a law made by some dude named ohm and all he can really think about is how nice your lips would look around his cock, how your pretty fingers that are playing with your pencil would press so perfectly into his thighs as he thrusts into your mouth, tears welling in your eyes as he uses you to his heart’s content. you’re a cute little thing, aren’t you? a bit quiet in class, kinda submissive as far as he can tell — and all he wants to do is bend you over this desk and fuck you ‘til you’re crying for him to stop.

with half-hazy eyes from the joint he snuck a couple huffs from before this study session started and a stupid smirk, he places a hand on your thigh and watches you pause, brows furrowing as he trails it up a bit higher and squeezes the soft flesh under the hem of your shorts. your nose scrunches up as you move your attention from your notebook to him. with a scalding glare, you hiss, “the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

woah. did that just come out of your mouth? for some reason, the words only make his shit-eating grin grow wider, and he squeezes your thigh again. “nothin’. something wrong, sweetheart?”

you stare at him for a moment, gaze cold and calculating, nothing like the wide-eyed look you wear on a normal basis. all he can think about is how fucked he is as soon as he feels you wrench his hand from your thigh and slam it onto the table. he yelps at the pain that radiates through his fingers, rubbing them as he looks at you like a wounded puppy. your lips purse. “i know your stupid game, beomgyu. either let me tutor you, or get the fuck out.”

“jesus,” he sighs, hands shooting up defensively. “fine, whatever. do your worst, i guess.”

beomgyu can’t deny the twitch in his cock at your cruel words. you’re more feisty than he thought; maybe he’d let you take the lead, if you even let him get in your pants in the first place. he was wrong, you seem like the type who’d want control. of course you did. you’ve never fallen at his feet like some of the other girls in your class, the ones who know he’s rich and good in bed and friends with the best plugs on this godforsaken campus. you’ve never wanted anything to do with him; your sore lack of interest just made him want you more, so to let you shut down his attempts to fuck you right here, right now? nah, not fucking happening.

so after a bit of actual studying to appease you, his hand sneaks onto your thigh once again—

oh, he’s hit the jackpot.

you’re standing up now, hand gripping his chin so hard that it hurts. the tick in your jaw is enough to indicate that he’s really pissed you off, a fire surging behind your irises as you glower down at him. he’s leaned back into his seat because you’ve leaned in so close, caging him in — and fuck, does he like it. he’s never had someone be so mean to him. they’ve always let him take the lead, let him use them, but you? you have different plans, it seems.

“what did i say?” your tone is sharp, dangerous. the air around him suffocates his lungs, yet he smiles. he likes this game.

“to let you tutor me, and i was, so what’s your problem?” he shrugs as if you don’t look like you’re about to incinerate him with your gaze right now. your head tilts as soon as you glance down at the hard-on in his lap, that unimpressed, calculating glint returning to your eyes. suddenly, you let him go, shoving him backwards into his seat as you resume your own. you look down at his lap again.

“y’know what? fine. i’ll make you a deal: i’m gonna jerk you off as you do this problem set. if you complete it, i’ll let you cum.”

oh. oh wow. did he hear that properly? you’re gonna jerk him off? he feels a little dizzy because honestly, this is just the first step to getting you to give in to him, to lose control and ride him until he’s a drooling mess for you, ‘cause god, you’d love to him like that, wouldn’t you? he can tell that you would. so—

he gives you another one of his trademark cocky smirks, and says, “yeah, sure. i’ll get it done in no time.”

and beomgyu tries. he tries so hard to focus, but he does not, in the end, get it done in no time. it’s been thirty minutes, and all he’s gotten done is two out of the ten problems that you’ve been assigned to complete by tomorrow. how can he with your hand stroking up and down his cock so slow that he wants to cry? whenever he stops working to try and thrust into your hand, gain any semblance of pleasure, you remove it. he can’t fucking win.

“do the problem,” you command, leaning against the desk with the most bored expression ever painted on your face, as if you’re not jerking him off beneath the desk right now. as if you don’t even want to be here. “you have an hour to finish these, y’know. i can’t stay here all night with your dumbass. i have better shit to do.”

his hips twitch up. fuck. fuck. he needs you to degrade him more. you sound so pretty doing it.

“c’mon,” he whines. “can’t you just let me cum? i’m never gonna get this shit in an hour.”

“sounds like a you problem.” and you go back to stroking him, thumb teasing the flushed red tip and spreading his precum all over, further lubricating your hand to make your movements smoother. he gets back to work, trying his best to ignore how fucking good it feels to be edged like this. to get so close, only for it to be torn away from him. by problem seven, he’s sniffling and whimpering for you to let him cum, “please let me cum. please? wanna fuck you so bad. wanna feel you pussy around me, fuck.”

all you do is give him a mean-spirited laugh. “you really think i’m gonna give in and let you fuck me? y’probably thought i was some submissive little bitch at first, didn’t you? well, you thought wrong — so either solve these fucking problems, or else i’m not letting you cum. and you’re sure as hell not getting to fuck me. you’re more stupid than i thought. how pathetic.”

he could cum right now, but he thinks you might kill him if he did. so he struggles through problem eight. and nine. and ten — and finally, finally he’s finished. finally, you start to pump him as fast you can, whispering mean little names in his ear, calling him a stupid little bitch for thinking you’d be that easy, a fucking idiot for even trying. twisting your wrist, you lean over with your other hand to squeeze his balls, manicured nails biting into the sensitive flesh and—

he spills all over your hand with a pathetic whine, his whimpers loud enough for you to slap a hand over his mouth and whispering to keep fucking quiet, or do you want to be caught? he doesn’t care though, it feels too good to let go after being tortured for so long, his cum spurting all over his shirt and jeans and all over your hand.

when he’s finally done, he feels you wipe your hand on his shirt, mumbling how disgusting he is as you grab some hand sanitizer, apply it, and start to pack up. wait, you’re leaving now? he doesn’t get to fuck you?

“where are you going?” he questions, watching as you slip your calculator into your bag, not even sparing a glance at his ruined state.

“home,” you bluntly reply. “like i said, there’s no way in hell i’m letting you fuck me. and i’m not tutoring you anymore. find someone else.”

okay, that’s enough to get him panicked. “what? but you’re the only one who agreed to do it!”

“you think i care? go to the professor, then.”

“wait,” he says. grabbing the sleeve of your jacket before you can walk out. you turn, judgment apparent in the way you scan over his cum-covered clothes. despite that, he pushes on, “aren’t you at least a little turned on? why don’t you let me help you?”

“as if,” you scoff, even though yes, you’re really fucking turned on and wanna ride him until he’s an overstimulated mess right now. you’ve never had a boy bow to you as easily as him, and you enjoyed it more than you’d like to admit, but at the same time, this is beomgyu you’re talking about. he’s terrible news, and wouldn’t be a good influence on your academics. you try to pull away and head towards the door. “i’m out of here.”

“liar,” he accuses, pulling you backwards. “you have to be a least a little turned on. c’mon, i know you want to fuck me, wanna see me all stupid for you. you seem like the type to like that.”

he’s stupid and cocky and infuriating, but he’s also right. you want to tie him up and use him for hours. you want to watch his pretty rich boy face twist up and turn red as he starts to sob and whine for you to stop. you want to see him brainless and pliant and willing to do anything you ask. staring at him, your mind feeds you scenarios of his fucked-out face, sweat rolling down his temple and mixing with his tears. with a deep breath, you wrench your wrist from his grip and fully turn towards him.

you’ve made your decision.

“fine,” you say. “i’ll make you another deal: get a 90 on the exam next week, and maybe i’ll let you.”

there’s no way he can do that, can he? it sounds impossible in his mind given his track record of 20s and a 15 percent on the last exam — but he finds himself nodding anyway. he has to do this, he's desperate enough.

“you have a deal.”

© to agustdiv1ne. do not copy, repost, steal, and/or translate.

[webslingingslasher]

hi babeeee!!! idk if this is how requests work bc i never request fics but i was wondering if u could do something super duper angsty, like really angsty, and then hurt comfort with a fluffy end? it can be anything you want, but like that sort of timeline would be so so so good, if u could and if requests r open,, xoxoxox

it may have taken me 12 years but i did it bestie.

Peter Parker wasn’t the type of boyfriend to have rules. 

You were your own person, and should live as one. However, there were some things he was a bit more passionate about. 

Like: texting him when you get home (and he wasn’t around), calling him if you feel unsafe or nervous, keep him informed of your whereabouts so he could try and track you down if he needed to, and always, always, call him back. 

Peter had one rule, let him know you're safe. Always. Even when you’re mad at eachother, even at your most ugly, you’d let him know you’re okay. It was Peter’s one true rule, the other things he liked and he preferred you’d do, but this was his number one thing. 

And you’re not following it. 

The third time you ignored his call he felt frustration brew so deeply he almost slammed his phone to the ground, it would’ve done nothing to fix anything, and would’ve made a bigger problem, but the satisfaction of watching something break apart into a million pieces would’ve made him feel better. Even if just for a moment. 

It’s almost like you knew it’s pissing him off, you’ve never dug this deeply into a wound. You knew it would get under his skin in the right places, it was something that either of you didn’t play with. It was too serious for Peter, and knowing you were most likely safe and just doing this to try and get even with him made him furious. Because he can’t prove it. And because he can’t all he could think about how not okay you might be. 

Peter hates leaving angry voicemails but he can’t stop himself this time. 

‘This is the fourth fucking call you’ve ignored, I think you proved your point. I know you’re mad at me but this is just childish, you made this night go from a small hiccup to a massive fight because you won’t answer your phone. Just call me back, goddamn it.’ 

Peter’s never once gotten loud with you, he’s never once felt enough rage towards you he could ever buck up enough energy to yell at you. But all he wanted to do was scream about how inconsiderate you were. He understands he may have started it, he even tried to apologize but you must’ve had this in your heart for a minute because you couldn’t wait to bulldoze him. 

‘I’m so sorry, baby. I got caught up in the low-’ 

‘Whatever, I don’t care. I’m going home.’ 

‘Hey, no, no, no! We can still hang out! I haven’t ate-’ 

‘I did. I waited over an hour, Peter. I’m going home.’ 

‘I’m sorry, I really am, baby. I know tonight was important to you.’ 

And that’s when the night switched. 

‘No, Peter, this wasn’t important to me. This was important for us, this was about you trying to prove you still care about us.’ 

‘Woah, hold on, don’t you dare stand there and tell me I don’t care about you or us, that’s unfair and you know it.’ 

‘You know what, Peter? I didn’t sign up to date two guys. I was willing to accept the other because it was a package deal, but I’m tired of being picked last. You know I’ll always be waiting around and it’s so fucking tiresome just waiting around.’ 

‘Bullshit. You knew exactly what you were signing up for, you don’t get to act like this is new news.’ 

‘I’m always picked last! I understand who you are, Peter, who you share a life with, trust me, if anyone here knows best about understanding, it’s fucking me, but that doesn’t mean I’m always the last priority. I know sometimes I have to be on the backburner, and guess what, Peter? I fucking understand. But, tonight? What stopped you? Because it’s not like there’s a domestic attack on the city, so tell me, what was so fucking important tonight I was shot to the bottom of the list for it?’ 

‘Okay, I get it. I know you’re mad, but I think we both need to take a breath and talk about this at home.’ 

‘No! I want you to look at me and tell me what was so important NYPD’s finest couldn’t handle it for an evening.’ 

‘Baby, I really don’t-’ 

‘Fucking tell me! I want you to admit right now it was nothing important. Look me in the eye and admit you didn’t care about my feelings.’ 

‘It was a robbery. I have a responsibility to keep the city safe, a city you very much live in, by the way.’ 

‘Ah, the classic, ‘if you really think about it, I’m doing this for you’ line. Real original.’ 

‘Can we please just go home? If you’re going to be pissed at me anyways I’d rather it be in the comfort of our home.’

‘You can go wherever you want, but I’m not going anywhere with you.’ 

‘I’m gonna get a cab, hold on.’ 

‘No, I’m not going anywhere with you and I mean it.’ 

‘You can hate me at home, let’s go.’ 

‘No! I’m leaving, you can sit around waiting on me for once.’ 

‘Why are you doing this now? You’ve never been this persistent before, I moved in with you and you still don’t think it’s enough. What else do you want from me? I’m giving you all I can, fuck.’ 

‘You know what? I hope someone fucking kidnaps me, maybe then I’d be your first choice.’ 

‘Don’t, don’t you even dare go there. You know that’s a low blow.’

‘I do. I hope I’m fucking tortured with you on the line, too.’ 

Peter tried calling out for you, screamed your name even, but you walked across the street and were swallowed into the crowd. He tugged at his hair a few times before looking around, he wasn’t sure what to do. Get a cab, bus, train? Does he walk in the direction you went? It’s a start. 

Pulling out his phone he tried calling, you sent him to voicemail on the second ring. You’re pissed, that’s fine, he just needs you mad and safe. Peter dodged bodies on his left and right, checking each alleyway for you, assuming you’d stop to collect yourself and call him when you had a breather. 

No sight of you. He doesn’t know where you went from here, it splits two ways. He tries using his boyfriend intuition and attempts to channel you, he’s left hopeless. Like a hail mary he remembers you share locations, Peter’s hands shake when he reaches for the app, your name loading until a small circle appears in his. 

You’re close. He follows the road forward, he knows you took this way and his heart squeezes. You deliberately took the sketchy route, the one you told Peter you wouldn’t dare walk without him. It looks like he’s getting closer, but it’s impossible to tell when he has to wait for it to constantly reload. 

Peter swears he can see your jacket ahead, he calls your phone, picking up the pace and trying his best to catch up. You blocked his call again, but he saw you do it.

He knows you heard your name get called, because you started to walk faster, it’s useless, Peter’s quicker. The only option you had was to hide in the crowd, squeezing yourself in the middle and out through the front. Sighing heavy at your escape, and a bit unamused by the childish behavior. Peter looked down at his phone refreshing your name ‘find friends.’ 

His face crumbled into a thousand pieces when the notification appeared, ‘- stopped sharing their location with you.’ His response was to call you, this time you let it ring out, and he left a nasty voicemail. It was like he snapped, he pulled at his curls and exhaled a loud ‘fuck!’ before gripping his phone so tight he thought it’d snap, and that's why he put it away. 

If you wanted to play dirty so could he, you’re hard to find from the street but when he’s swinging from building to building you’d be out of luck. He was tired and hungry, he wanted this to be over. Fight about it like grown adults, at home, while he’s making a grilled cheese or something. 

Peter ran down a back alleyway, ripping his clothes from his body and pulling his mask from his pocket. The suit came in handy tonight after all. Taking a sharp inhale, he took a leap, screaming out when he took flight. 

‘Not you, not you, not you, not…. You? No, not you.’ 

‘Where the fuck did you go?’ 

You were nowhere to be found, still no answer on his calls or texts. He knows it’s irrational, but he’s terrified you’ve jinxed yourself and really are in trouble. He’s taken the route on a spin three times and he still hasn’t seen you, there’s three options, you either went into a gay nightclub, were kidnapped, or somehow snuck your way across the road and into… central park. 

Of course you did, Peter should’ve known that. He told you one time it was a weak vantage point, he couldn’t see through the treelines all that well, and didn’t have much to swing from. At least he has a general idea of where you are, he just has to do it on foot. 

Maybe you were right, maybe he just sucked at prioritizing you now. He doesn’t know when he became this way. He just feels so responsible, he got a great gift and it’s only right he shares it. He just hasn’t figured out how to share Peter with you and Spider-Man with the world yet. Both people need him at the same time. 

At last, sitting on the edge of the fountain, is the love of his life. Just looking terribly sad, he hates to know he caused it. He may have started the fight, but you said some terrible things, things that were only said to jab at the most vulnerable spots. 

Taking a seat next to you he sighs, his entire body deflating in one breath. You mimic the sigh. 

“Rough night?” 

You hum, “my boyfriend and I got in a fight. Maybe we still are, I don’t know. What about you?” 

Peter stretches his legs, red feet scrape the brick. “My girlfriend went nuclear, kinda deserved. But, she also really hurt my feelings.” 

“Did you hurt her feelings too?” 

“Does that make it deserved?” 

Silence. It didn’t. 

Peter watches you twiddle your thumbs, chewing on your bottom lip and sniffing. 

“I’m sure she’s really sorry, and she knows whatever she said hit a soft spot. It seems like your job comes with some downsides, and maybe she kept it all bottled up until she couldn’t anymore, because how do you tell a superhero you want their attention more than a city needs protection?” 

He knows what you mean, he knows how selfish it could sound, but it’s not. You’re allowed to want him around every second, because he does too. 

“You don’t.” 

Peter can feel your eyes, “you don’t tell the superhero, you tell your boyfriend.” 

Your throat clears, “what if he’s both? What if he’s already spread too thin and his whining girlfriend is his last straw?” 

“No. He’s not spread too thin. He was unaware of how you felt, he didn’t know how much it bothered you. He didn’t know how far he pushed you away.” 

“So what changes now he knows?” 

Peter breaks character, this is about real solutions. 

“We figure it out. We’ll go home and look at our schedules and work around it, and have a set day where it’s only us. Twice a month we’ll have a standing date, attendance mandatory. The police scanner gets turned off unless it’s a slow night, and from now on, unless it’s a domestic attack, nothing comes before you.” 

[cameronspecial]

Let Me In, Angel

Pairing: Frat!Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Having a Stomach Ache and Being on The Toilet

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 0.7K

Summary: Y/N isn't feeling well and Rafe can't accept that she doesn't want him in the room.

Masterlist

Whatever Y/N ate has been wreaking havoc on her stomach. She came back home from shopping with Daisy and she had to make a mad dash to the bathroom. That was half an hour ago. She has been on and off the toilet the whole time and this is now her fourth go. Her posture is horrendous as she hunches over with her hand on her stomach. It is the only position that gives some sort of relief from the stabbing pain. It’s been a few minutes since anything has come out, but she is worried if she gets off the seat, it will start back up again. Tears start to well in Y/N’s eyes because she has never felt this type of ache before. Her period cramps are bad, yet manageable with ibuprofen. Something tells her the medicine isn’t going to help her at the moment. 

Rafe pushes the unlocked door open with ease, even with his hands full. He flicks his head in greeting Dylan, who is watching TV. “Is Angel back from the mall yet?” he asks his frat brother. Dylan nods, “Yeah. Although, she’s been really quiet and holed up in your room the whole time. She hasn’t come down to get a snack or anything like she normally does.” “Perfect. I got her a chocolate chip muffin on my way home from class. Thanks for telling me. I’ll go check on her,” he states, heading upstairs to his room. 

Y/N can hear the keypad of the door from inside the bathroom and squeezes her eyes shut. She leans over to lock the bathroom door. Rafe will insist on coming in when he finds out she is in there because they are the type of couple, who is comfortable with doing that; however, the smell she has created in the room is not one she wants to subject Rafe to. His knock reverberates around the room before she can hear the wiggle of the doorknob. “Angel, the door is locked. Can you open it so I can come in please?” Rafe calls out from the other side. She grimaces as another pang shoots through her abdomen, “I’m on the toilet, so no.” “Come on, Angel. It’s nothing I’ve never seen before. I want to tell you about my day,” he points out. 

“Well, I want my privacy. So… no, you can’t come in.”

Usually, he would respect her wishes, except that he can hear the strain in her voice, which concerns him. Either she is hiding something or sh,” he orders, trying the door handle again. Y/Ne is hurt and he likes neither of those options. “Let me in, Angel sighs, “I can’t because.” “Why not?” he inquires. She rubs her stomach to soothe herself, “I’m scared if I open this door, you won’t love me anymore.”

“And why would you think that? Nothing you do could make that happen, Angel.”

“It’s just… My tummy is hurting a lot and the smell in the room right now is not very pleasant. I don’t want to subject you to that, so maybe wait until I’m done to tell me about your day. I really do want to hear about it, I promise.” 

“Angel, if you are feeling sick, then I should be in there comforting you. I promise that whatever it is like in there will not make me stop loving you. Nothing could do that.”

“You promise?”

“Yes. Now, can you let me in please?”

Y/N exhales in relief and unlocks the door. He pushes the handle down, entering without a second thought. Embarrassment runs through her when she notices the small scrunch on his face. He is quick to wipe any emotion from his facial features as he rushes to her side. He squats near the toilet and takes her hand into his. “You don’t have to stay. I know this isn’t the most pleasant environment,” she whispers, wanting to die a little bit inside from the humiliation. He runs his thumb over her knuckles, “It’s not that bad. I live in a frat. I have smelt and seen worse. Don’t worry about it. You are in pain and you need me, so I’m going to be right here for as long as you need.” Globs of water stream down her face. “Thank you. I really don’t deserve you,” she mumbles, resting her forehead against his. Rafe kisses her hairline, “This is the least you deserve, Angel. And I’m going to make sure you are treated like a queen.”

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming

[nailisaa]

the 3d has to conform.

  hi everyone! i just came on here to say that today, as i was manifesting, something i didn’t appreciate happened in the 3d. nothing too serious, it’s just that it was unexpected. i want to share with everyone what i do when this happens, and i hope with this i can help somebody out there.

    i’ve been in the manifestation community for three years, so it has gotten easier and easier to deal with bad 3d circumstances because i know it isn’t permanent. however, in the beginning i was still in the toxic type of law of attraction mindset and focused on a lot of tarot readings, high frequencies, etc. basically everything that the basis of law of assumption doesn’t give a shit about. it was beliefs like, “the universe might not give you what you want because they decide” or “you need to be positive always in order to get what you want,” that really made me give away my power, without even realizing. in times where the 3d was showing the opposite of what i wanted, i gave up, and because i thought that the universe didn’t want me to have it, i gradually formed a victim mentality. as if the universe was trying to ruin my life. yikes.

i soon realized that the universe doesn’t give a fuck and isn’t choosing anything for me. it’s supposed to show you your assumptions. so it was either i see it as an advantage, to see what i need to fix about my mindset and improve my life, or wallow in self pity for the rest of my life, and watch it get worse.

obviously i chose to improve my life because wtf. so i stopped letting people on tiktok (it’s the root of all evil, istg the misinformation is insane. do not go to tiktok for any manifesting/shifting advice LMAO) decide my fate and tell me how to live my life. every new thing i learned from the law of assumption made me so happy bc i knew i could live the life i wanted, and i finally felt like i had control over my own life for once. i create my reality. i don’t have to seek validation. only live in the end. that’s all i needed to know, and suddenly, i did not give a shit if the 3d was showing me the opposite of what i want.

let’s talk about how we can cope with these types of situations. i started rambling i’m sorry;

understand that there is no such thing as failure in the LOA, because it’s either you have it or you don’t. the 3d has no choice but to show your assumptions, and only assumptions. that’s why it can’t fail. the 3d can’t fail at showing you your assumptions.

let whatever emotions, bad thoughts, etc. pass. as long as you don’t end up identifying yourself with negative thoughts, an assumption can’t be created. you can cry, scream, throw things, whatever. whatever is happening in the 3d has nothing to do with what your job is, which is to fulfill within imagination. i will never tell you to bottle things up for the sake of manifesting it... just get it out of your system please.

when you’re done, you can enter the state of wish fulfilled again. remember it will not get harder to manifest or anything.

that’s literally it!! people need to stop encouraging hiding your emotions because it does more harm than good. you are human. you are allowed to act like one.

[metalhoops]

// Read Part 1 Here // Read Part 2 Here //

“Can you believe that bullshit, Stevie?” Eddie questioned, from his spot in Steve’s lap. 

The two were together on the Munsons’ beaten-up couch. Steve’s day had dragged on like bare feet in river mud. As far as he could gather, Eddie’s had been the same. The room was hot with the ghost of summer, despite it being mid-March. Eddie’s hair between Steve’s fingers was soft and fizzed. 

“Can I believe that Lucas refused to ditch the championship game for your fantasy club, that could be rescheduled? Yeah,” Steve paraphrased, feeling Eddie sit slightly as he craned his head to get a better look at Steve.

“You’re on his side, aren’t you?” Eddie mumbled, discontent clear in his voice. Steve didn’t like it. He hummed and leaned down to place a chased kiss on Eddie’s lips. 

“You’re not meant to be on his side,” Eddie grumbled, laying back down. 

It was rare that the two disagreed. The disagreement had to be big enough to get a rise out of Steve, but if the situation called for it, he’d put his foot down. 

“It’s a big deal for him,” Steve reasoned, watching Eddie’s jaw clench. 

He’d gotten to know the boy well enough over the past few months. He knew what would come next. If he didn’t act soon, he’d have to sit through a monologue on the sanctity of the game and Lucas’ betrayal at having chosen sports over his friends. Steve didn’t mind the rants. He liked that Eddie was passionate. He did, but Eddie was right. Steve was on Lucas’ side. 

“I know this is a big deal for you, too. Getting to the end of the game or whatever, but can’t you just do it another day? It’d mean the world to the kid,” Steve reasoned. 

He knew by the rounding of Eddie’s shoulders and the elongated groan that escaped his lips that he’d won. 

“Fine, I’ll postpone a week, but you owe me big time. Next date you’re paying.” 

Steve didn’t argue. Hell, he liked paying for Eddie. The guy normally wouldn’t have a bar of it. 

“Wipe that smug smile off your face, Harrington. I get to pick what we do. I’m going to drag you to the loudest concert this side of the Mississippi the first chance I get.” 

Steve nodded, twisting Eddie’s fraying curl between his fingertips.

“In the meantime, I was thinking of heading to the game,” Steve proposed. 

Eddie groaned. He knew Steve too well. He knew what was coming next. 

“You’re going to drag my ass to the basketball game, aren’t you?” 

Eddie sat, switching to the far side of the couch to show his displeasure at the idea. However, he threw his feet in Steve’s lap, so he knew they were okay. 

He thought they were okay. 

“Lucas will want you to be there.”

“You know we can’t actually go together without people talking,” Eddie noted as Steve drove his thumb into the heel of the boy’s foot absentmindedly. 

“I don’t care,” Steve stated. 

He meant it. He’d given up on trying to be Hawkins’ golden boy years before. He just wanted to be the type of person he could live with. 

“Maybe I do,” Eddie spoke, stopping Steve cold. 

Steve worried. He always goddamn worried. Yes, he was waiting for the day he lost someone he cared about to the hell dimension, but it was more than that. He also worried about mundane stuff, like Eddie waking up and deciding they were bullshit. He’d been so sure he and Nancy were in love up until the second she told him they weren’t. That was a blow he wasn’t sure he’d ever heal from. 

He must have gone too quiet, sat stock, still in the growing silence. Eddie sat up and tugged at the hem of Steve’s shirt until he lay down beside him. The two were crushed uncomfortably close, side by side. Eddie’s knee was tucked between Steve’s legs. Eddie touched Steve’s face. It was something only he could get away with. If it were anyone else, he would hate it. 

“Not what I meant,” Eddie spoke, implicitly knowing where Steve’s train of thought had headed. 

“I just meant, I care because I know if any dick head in town had enough brain cells to put two and two together, we’d be screwed,” Eddie began, taking a deep breath. Steve settled back, bracing himself for the monologue. 

“Your parents would kick you out. Then the town would try to run me out with pitchforks. I’m not saying we’ll never... you know. I’m just saying we’ve gotta be smart about it. When I’m done with high school and we save up enough money to have an escape plan for when things go to shit, then we can toss around the idea of going to stupid basketball games together.” Steve sighed but nodded, understanding Eddie’s point of view.

Sometimes Steve got sick of being cautious. He got sick of waiting for other people to change their minds about something that didn’t have anything to do with them. He’d had some good goddamn sense knocked into him. He wished someone would do the same for everyone else. 

“We can hang out after the game. I’ve got something to do first, but I’ll swing around your place after ten.” Eddie proposed. 

Steve didn’t ask what Eddie was doing. If Eddie wanted him to know, he would’ve told him, and despite Steve’s many hang-ups, he trusted Eddie as much as he could trust anyone. 

“Ten works,” Steve agreed. 

The afternoon faded. Steve left Eddie to go to the game. He watched with his gaggle of kids by his side, glancing down at Robin in the marching band when her high school crush took to the stage with a shit-eating grin. He wanted to be there with Eddie, but this was a good consolation. He was sure he’d have bruises on his side by morning from Dustin constantly elbowing him in the side every time Lucas got the ball.

He was so damn proud of Lucas for scoring the winning point. Though Steve would admit, he’d have been proud of the kid if they’d lost by a mile. He was learning what love was about, love without contingencies. Eddie, Robin and the kids were teaching him the lessons he’d never picked up from his parents. 

He got back to his place around nine, took a shower and switched on a mindless T.V. re-run to fill the silence while he waited for Eddie. He was two episodes deep when he felt the familiar sensation of dread begin to well in the pit of his stomach. 

Eddie was two hours late when Steve’s worry shifted to full-blown panic. He tried to tell himself everything was fine, that Eddie got caught up and he’d walk through the door any minute. He picked up his bat from beneath his bed and paced the halls like an animal in an enclosure. 

It was three in the morning when Steve resigned himself to the fact that Eddie wasn’t coming. He called the Munsons at the god-awful hour of the night, hoping beyond hope that Eddie would pick up. He’d be pissed off at Steve for waking him up, but then he’d let him know what was going on. 

He didn’t answer. 

Maybe Steve had read things wrong. Maybe he and Eddie had a fight. They were fighting. That’s why Eddie hadn’t shown up.

He lay in bed until the light of morning thawed his bones and set him free from his wide-eyed, paralytic state of unrest. Instead of heading to work, he drove to the trailer park, swerving the Beamer off the dirt track as the blue lights painted the horizon. There was a swarm of cop cars parked outside Eddie’s trailer. Steve’s body moved of its own accord, rushing through the swarm of cops to find Wayne Munson smoking at the picnic benches, a nearly imperceptible tremor to his fingers. 

Steve didn’t ask what happened. Not right away. His mind was full of worst-case scenarios, none of which could be true until they were spoken into existence. For now, everything was unknown. For now, there was a chance Eddie was safe. He let his legs buckle beneath him as he sat beside Wayne, wondering when he’d made a habit of having panic attacks with Munson men near picnic benches. 

“Was Eddie with you last night?” Wayne asked between drags of the cigarette. 

Steve shook his head. 

Eddie had told Wayne about them. Steve had sat across the breakfast table from the man half a dozen times, but they’d never really talked without Eddie in the room. 

“Was he meant to be?” With a defeated sigh, Steve nodded. 

“What happened?” He asked, at last, tired of drawing out the inevitable. 

“I came home from my shift and there was a body.” All the colour fell from Steve’s face. 

“Not Eddie’s. Some girl. Cops are sayin’ they think he killed her. I reckon we both know that ain’t true.” Steve didn’t know what to do with that information. Eddie was alive. 

He listened to Wayne describe the scene with a growing feeling of dread. He’d seen enough of the Upside Down to understand that an eyeless girl, broken and bent like a marionette puppet and a missing boy seemed like part of its M.O. He was late for work. 

He needed to let Robin and the kids know what was going on. He skirted past the police and drove to the video store. His body was working on autopilot. To his surprise, Dustin and Max were already there. 

He watched as a disgruntled Robin tried to shoo them from behind the register. Steve cleared his throat, hoping beyond hope that the kids didn’t notice the red rim of his eyes as he placed his hands on his hips. 

“What the hell are you two doing? Shouldn’t you be at school?” He tried to play it off like it was any other day, as though he was fine. Robin’s watchful eyes let him know she saw right through him. 

“We’re looking for places Eddie could hide.” Dustin breathed, stopping Steve in his tracks. He shut up and let them explain. 

“We were thinking he could be at Reefer Rick’s place,” Max supplied after Dustin finished his tangent. Steve remained uncharacteristically quiet. 

“Alright, well, quick. Get your shit, if we’re doing this.” Steve grumbled, sliding off his video store vest and leaving it on the counter. Eddie wasn’t dead. That was something.

“That’s great and all, Steve, but we still don’t know where the hell we’re going,” Dustin argued at Steve’s heels as the four rushed out into the parking lot. 

“I know where he lives,” Steve supplied, catching the disbelieving look shared between Max and Dustin. He hadn’t told the kids about him and Eddie. 

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to. It was complicated. Everything about him and Eddie felt complicated. He didn’t want them to be a secret, but it was a necessity to keep them both safe, to keep Eddie safe. He’d told Robin because he knew she was safe. She was an extension of himself. He couldn’t not tell Robin, but the rest of the party was still in the dark. 

“I didn’t think you did drugs, Steve,” Dustin spoke sceptically as they piled into the car. 

“I don’t do drugs... Put on your seatbelt, Henderson.” 

“Then why do you know where a notorious drug dealer lives?” Dustin pushed. 

“Seriously, kid. I’m not backing out until you’re buckled in,” Steve warned. Now was not the time to get a D.A.R.E. presentation. 

“Steve, should I be worried?” Dustin asked as Max spoke up,

“Of course he does drugs. He’s at Eddie’s place all the time.” 

Both Steve and Robin turned back to look at the girl with wide eyes. Of course, Steve should’ve realised Max saw his BMW parked outside the Munsons’ trailer. He hadn’t been thinking. 

“What? I wasn’t going to say anything because we’re all going through shit,” Max elaborated as Dustin shot her a look of utter betrayal. 

“I didn’t think you guys were... friendly. I didn’t think you liked him,” Dustin gaped, finally buckling up. 

Steve tried to drive carefully, keeping his eyes on the road and the car under the speed limit, only sometimes succeeding. 

“What makes you think I don’t like Eddie?” Steve asked, trying to keep his mind off the very real potential that Eddie had just been dragged into the world he’d never wanted him to be a part of. 

Eddie kept trying to push for answers about what happened to Steve. He kept promising he’d give them to him when the time was right, but he could never bring himself to do it. Sometimes the best thing was to remain ignorant. All the same, Steve couldn’t lie to him either, so they’d remained in limbo. 

“You always drop me off at Hellfire, but you never say ‘hi’ to the guy." 

“I wave at him,” Steve reasoned. 

“From the car, Steve. It’s antisocial.” 

It wasn’t long before the group pulled up outside of Rick’s. Steve knew where Eddie would hide if he were there. He led the group to the boathouse, searching the place for any sign of the boy. That led to Steve blindly poking around in the dark with an ore and an odd sense of hope. All of which was thrown out the window the second a body sprung up from the darkness to shove him against a wall. 

It happened too quickly for Steve to process. There was a weight holding him in place and a sharp pressure at his throat. It wasn’t until Dustin’s calls that Steve made out Eddie’s body in the dim light. 

“Woah, Eddie. It’s me. It’s Dustin,” the kid called from behind them. 

The rest of the world fell away as he met Eddie’s wide, panicked eyes. He was safe. Scared as hell, but safe. The broken bottle Eddie held at his throat dropped from his hand in an instant, as did the ore from Steve’s grasp. 

“It’s Steve, Eddie.” 

Recognition flashed across Eddie’s face and suddenly Steve was being crushed again, this time under the weight of Eddie’s arms. The boy clung onto Steve as a drowning man would cling to driftwood. He buried his face into the nape of Steve’s neck and inhaled deeply. Steve could feel Eddie’s heart pounding against his chest. He snaked a hand around to hold the back of Eddie’s neck, forcing the boy to look at him. 

“Hey. You’re okay. Just breathe with me for a second, alright?” Steve spoke, echoing Eddie’s words from the first night the two had gotten together. He watched as the rapid rise and fall of Eddie’s chest slowed. 

“That’s it,” Steve soothed. 

“Stevie,” he whispered, his voice hoarse. 

“M’sorry I didn’t... I couldn’t go to your place, Steve. I wanted to,” Eddie continued, his hand having moved to grasp the fabric of Steve’s shirt. 

“I didn’t... I didn’t know if it’d follow me. I don’t know what the hell happened, I... you won’t believe me,” He finished at last, resting his forehead against Steve’s. 

It was slick with sweat but Steve didn’t care. The others in the room had fallen away entirely. There was only Eddie. 

“I think I should probably talk to you about that thing we keep meaning to talk about,” Steve breathed, drawing circles in Eddie’s skin. 

“Why now?” The boy asked, disbelievingly, a hysterical laugh slipping from his lips.

“Because no matter how crazy what you’re going to tell me sounds, I believe you.” 

“Alright, anyone care to tell me what the hell is going on? I thought you two hated each other,” Dustin called, shattering the moment between them. 

They pulled apart, though Eddie still kept his hand laced in Steve’s shirt while his hand migrated to the middle of Eddie’s back. 

“Why would I hate my boyfriend?” Eddie breathed, clearly not thinking, hopped up on adrenaline. 

“You’re what?” Dustin spoke, gawking open-mouthed at the boys. 

Steve inhaled deeply, squeezed Eddie’s hip and levelled Dustin with his best, unimpressed glare, practically daring him to push on. 

“That makes more sense,” Max muttered to herself as Dustin’s eyes continued to flicker between the two. 

“Shut your mouth, Henderson. You’ll catch flies. We’ve got more pressing issues here,” Steve muttered, trying to work out how exactly he could explain everything to Eddie. 

“I thought you were secretly dating Robin, not Eddie. What the hell, man? Neither of you told me,” Dustin pushed forward while Robin snorted, her nose scrunching at the idea. 

“Really not the time, Henderson,” Eddie confirmed, his fingers worrying away at Steve’s shirt. 

“That’s not fair. You’re not meant to be on his side, dude,” Dustin remarked. 

“Can we all just focus for two seconds? Eddie, what happened last night at your trailer?” Steve questioned, somehow managing to wrangle the group back to the task at hand. 

Steve knew by Eddie’s deep breath and trembling fingers what he was about to say. The world Steve had tried to protect the boy from had come to find him anyway. Now all Steve would do was be there to hold his hand as they walked through whatever hell the Upside Down had to offer.

Steve would keep him safe. Steve would always keep Eddie safe, no matter what.  

[gimme-noodles-please]

For All Time/Lovebrush Chronicles NSFW headcannons

characters x afab! reader

—— characters; Aiyin/Ayn, Luchen/Alkaid, Luoxia/Lars, Silan/Clarence, Yexuan/Cael

tbh i have no idea how to write nsfw but lets gooooo

minors dni, keep your innocent eyes away

Aiyin/Ayn

he does not particularly have a high sex drive but he DEFINITELY has a lot of stamina

you know what they say about pianists? it is a fact that he is extremely good with his fingers; one of his favourite parts of his body because of how easily you fall apart from just one flick against your sweet spot. within seconds you are already whining on his fingers, begging him to fuck you

“oh? did you just cum on my fingers alone? hmm, perhaps let’s test out to see how many more orgasms you can give just from that alone~”

often times it would start off with an innocent kiss, which escalates to a passionate makeout and before you know it, you’re already tossed onto the bed with him hovering over you

Ayn is the type to praise and degrade you, but his degrading is never too harsh because he sees you as his treasure and would never want to do anything to harm you

which brings me to my next point of how he would never hit you during intercourse unless you ask him when he is in an experimental mood. he might agree to try it out but he would never take it too far

unless you are being a brat, he would not restrain himself from punishing you, either by edging or overstimulation because Ayn definitely is into both of them

Ayn is known to be protective most of the time and would easily get jealous. whenever you accompany him to lavish parties he has to go for the sake of his career, he would bring you along as his partner. but once he notices anyone settling their eyes on you for far too long, he is going to pull you into an empty room and- (im sure you guys know where it’s going)

“keep quiet, my dearest, you wouldn’t want others to hear how you are moaning like a whore on my cock, would you? you’re doing so well taking all of me, darling~”

despite telling you to keep quiet, he would purposely angle his hips to hit against your g-spot continuously, causing you to struggle with keeping your volume down. truth to be told, he does that just so whatever unfortunate soul lingering nearby would know you belong to him <3

most of the time it is the passionate lovemaking, he would go hard and fast, enjoying how you would whine and squirm under him in pleasure while he press heated kisses on your neck, cooing on what a good girl you are as he pounds you into the mattress

if you can’t tell, he has a bit of a thing for exhibitionism, whatever it’s called. but don’t worry, you two would never get caught because he would tell his bodyguards to make sure no one disturbs the both of you

^^ he likes quickies and is often teasing you to make you aroused. there was once where you visited him backstage to encourage him for his performance. “i don’t need any sort of encouragement.” he would say, and smirk at you. “unless you are offering that sort of encouragement?~”

- DOM DOM DOM. he’d bottom for you if you want to, but the moment you falter he’s taking over

- the first time you cry from how good it feels, he panics until you tell him it’s because you were feeling good, he would then aim to make you cry everytime you both are at it

Luchen/Alkaid

soft dom!!!

Alkaid is quite vanilla but if you want to experiment with something new, he wouldn’t be opposed to it as long as it is not too extreme

He is an attentive lover and will take note of what you like and where all your sensitive spots are

He is soft and gentle with you however if you wish to, he would love to do it rough. you just have to ask nicely <3

He can be a bit teasing in bed at times and would prefer edging than overstimulation. However the moment you pout and whine at him, he is already ready to stop and indulge in all of your desires

“You’re feeling good? Where? Here?” He would ask with an innocent tone as he would purposely avoid thrusting into your sweet spot, causing you to whine and pout at him as he chuckles, leaning forward to wrap you in his arms as he bottoms out inside of you. “You’re so adorable, I can never resist you.”

He would not want to cause you pain however he might try out with bondage and perhaps simple toys like the vibrator to use on you to make it more exciting

He loves to praise you! He would never degrade you in bed, even if he did, the way his honey-like voice whispers into your ear would make you believe he isn’t actually degrading you

Definitely loves to dirty talk to you in bed, murmuring against your neck about how good you feel and what a good girl you are for him while you lie under him moaning at every deep thrust he delivers, expertly aiming for your sweet spot

“Are you going to cum, darling? Come on, let go for me, my angel. Such a good girl for me~”

Unfortunately because you both have cats, it could be a little hard to find some alone time in bed but don’t worry! Alkaid makes it up to you by spoiling you with as many hugs and kisses as you’d like!

Surprisingly (or not so surprisingly) he is quite good with his tongue, there was once where he made you climaxed with his tongue alone for 3 times in a row without stopping, ignoring your cries in overstimulation. Alkaid would look at you sympathetically and gently rub your thighs as an apology. “I’m sorry dear, but you taste so good. Just cum one more time for me, okay?” He would say softly with a slight smile to comfort you before eating you out as if you were his last meal

Luoxia/Lars

Lars has the highest drive amongst all of the boys

He and Ayn have a lot of stamina, the most out of the others

If you are dating him, get ready to have a lot of quickies. Man is a CEO and is often times busy and so do not have time to give you the passionate lovemaking he wishes to give

You both would be doing it mostly at home or in his office

There were many times where, as a good girlfriend you are, brought him bento lunch to his office in case he forgot to eat. He’s happy to see you <3 and would ask you to feed him. It would somehow escalate to you sucking him under his desk while he works or even to fucking you over the desk, telling you to keep quiet

Which brings me to my next point that he gets turned on by the thought of getting caught. Of course he would never allow that to happen, after all your cute lovedrunk expression is reserved for his eyes and only his

“Princess, you don’t want to get caught, do you? Then i would suggest that you keep your volume down as i fuck you, alright?”

Lars definitely has a thing for breeding. He values familial bonds a lot and it wont be surprising when he talks about how much he wants to start a family with you. Often he would ask if he could cum inside of you, which you would agree to most of the times especially during quickies so you both won’t make a mess. Unfortunately the sight of seeing your combined fluids leaking out of your used hole is enough to get him hard again and end up going for 2 or more rounds

Another tease in bed. As much as he likes to see how needy you are for him, as a gentleman, he is more than happy to fulfil all of your desires. He would often tease you by changing his pace, at one time he would go fast and rough and purposely slow down once you’re at your climax, or when you tell him to slow down, he would purposely fasten his pace

He praises you a lot. Often calls you nicknames like princess, darling

Dom! It is a bit of a challenge to make him be submissive for you but he would allow you to be the one on top if you’d like to. When he notices your pace faltering as you ride him, he would smirk at you as his fingers caresses your hips. “Oh? Is my baby tired already? That’s a pity, I was just about to fill you up with my seed. You want that, don’t you?” His words would either make you eagerly start bouncing on him again or whine as you roll your hips against his, depending on how much energy you have left. He would then hold your hips in place so you won’t squirm as he thrusts upwards in an unrelenting pace, making you gasp in pleasure

Given that he is more mature, he definitely has experience in bed, however he is not the playboy you might think he is. He wants to treat you right and make sure you feel loved.

Have you seen how tall he is? 189cm. He definitely has a size kink. He loves how he towers over you or how in bed his body could easily envelope your smaller stature in a mating press as he is pounding you into the bed while you could only helplessly moan and whine under him

“My good girl can take all of me, right? That’s it. You feel so tight around me~”

Silan/Clarence

Clarence is super duper romantic and he would do anything just to make you feel good <3

Vanilla 100%

If you want to try something kinkier, he would agree but nothing that will cause you pain.

Most often times he will go deep and slow, causing you softly whine his name in pleasure as he murmurs praises into your ear

To be honest, the only experience he has is from books. He is more of the innocent type and was unsure of what to do during his first time with you. Sure, he has read some erotic writings before but he has never been with anyone this intimate before

He will always ask for your consent before proceeding. He just wants to make sure you’re comfortable!

“Ngh~ I-Is this position okay? It’s not too uncomfortable, is it? Good? Alright, I just wanted to make sure, darling”

He secretly likes doing it in front of mirrors or in a position where he can see your face (missionary is a go-to) so that he could watch your every expression to make sure he is doing well. Partly also because he likes to see how good you feel, it riles him up more and would thrust into you harshly all of a sudden which makes you gasp.

Switch vibessss. As mentioned before, he is willing to try anything with you. He does not really care about who is the more dominant one. Even if that means he is bottoming to you, he is chill with it. However everytime you insist on paying attention to him, pulling orgasms again and again from him while having just one or two yourself, he will insist on returning the favour

“P-please, wanna make you feel good too, my love. Wanna make you feel at least a hundred times better~”

He is not particularly very needy, most of the time it would be initiated by you or during a significant event, like your birthday

He spoils you a lot in bed if you can’t tell. He gives in to every single plea and does his best to make you feel good

Yexuan/Cael

Even though Cael has been alive for a super long time, he actually has no idea how to go about this, after all these feelings for you are pretty foreign to him and he is still learning about how to love you better. Often times you might catch him reading some romance novels just so he can learn how to treat you like a lover

In conclusion, you are his first

He is has the least sex drive, being alive for so long and not having a partner with him already says a lot. He can survive without it, but after meeting you, he craves for physical affection a little more.

He. Definitely. Holds. Hands. During. Sex.

He is innocent when it comes to the bedroom, his actions might come across as awkward as he had researched about it in advance but this whole situation is unfamiliar to him. However he is very attentive, memorising every sensitive spot of yours

Switch! He does not mind topping or bottoming. However I feel he is more of a service top. Like Clarence, he just wants to make you feel good <3

He would constantly ask if what he was doing is okay and also asks for consent, he just wants you to be comfortable and does not want to hurt you at all. Though sometimes his timing when asking them seem to be on purpose…

As he is thrusting into you at a fast pace (at your request), his tip hitting your sweet spot at that one angle every single time, he leans in to your ear, his hands finding yours to intertwined your fingers together. “Haah~ d-does this feel good? Do you- want to go faster?” Breathing into your ear while you moan loudly in response, making him chuckle, “I take it as a yes”

——————————-

im sorry that clarence and cael is kinda short 😭 idk how to write for them

[ddarker-dreams]

Redamancy.

Yan Scaramouche x F Reader.

Warnings: Yandere themes and unhealthy relationships. Word count: 1k.

“You scowl too much.” 

If anyone else were to speak to Scaramouche, Sixth of the Eleven Fatui Harbinger in this way, they’d certainly be reduced to a pitiful pile of ash on the ground. Perhaps he’s thought about subjecting you to this fate, once or twice. That number could very well have been bumped up to three times if the indignant air he currently regards you with is to be considered. 

Then again, no one aside from you would get to experience this deceptively domestic scene. You sit beneath a canopy, branches free from winter’s thaw hastily preparing buds to herald in spring. Scaramouche holds your thighs captive, the soft flesh serving as his pillow. Indigo locks splay out against and tickle your skin. 

“There’s a lot to scowl about,” he replies, though he makes an effort to relax his tense facial muscles. The contemptuous smile he gives makes his previous expression look benevolent in comparison. “I’m stuck dealing with a fool of a woman who’d probably wander off a cliff because she was too busy admiring the clouds.” 

“Clouds are meant to be admired.” 

“Case in point.” 

“You make it sound like I’m chained to you with iron shackles, though,” you raise your ankle (notably shackle free, imagine that), drawing his attention and ire. Your sarcasm never fails to rile him up. He never seriously tries to put a stop to it, however. Such is his capricious nature. “If I’m such a bother, why not let me wander off the cliff?” 

Scaramouche grits his teeth. “Because…” 

There’s a pause, then, weighty and tangible. You know what he both wants and fears to say. If he were any less of a coward, he’d fill the aromatic air with truth, rather than engaging in his usual sidestepping. He’s so proficient at the act you swear he could moonlight as a crab. This mental image earns a barely contained giggle from you, one that further sours his mood, if such a thing were possible. 

Knowing you as intimately as he does, he correctly assumes that he’s the unwitting source of your amusement. 

“I can’t stand you,” he grumbles. Whether it’s to you or himself, you can’t decide. “Truly, I can't.” 

“Then hand me over to someone who can.” 

There’s a flash in his eyes then — otherworldly, malicious — he disregards composure like a snake abandons shed skin. He rises in a flash. Inhumanly cold fingers take your chin captive, bringing you closer to him, his delight in the ease with which he can manhandle you evident. Always the type to go for grand gestures, this one. His theatrical outbursts befit his moniker. 

Scaramouche grins, beset with an onslaught of bitterness akin to a black hole. It draws in and swallows anything unfortunate enough to be nearby. 

“You just love testing my patience, don’t you?” 

If you feared him, maybe you’d tremble, but you don’t, so you are still. It’s likely that you should fear him. He is volatile, a mess of contradictions too complicated to untangle, a vessel who fills himself with acrimony, the same way humans must with air. He delights in it and considers it his birthright. 

Your smile is not without kindness and that’s what bothers him most. 

“Come, don’t pout. I have no intentions of being complicit in whatever havoc you'd wreak if I was with another.” 

His eye twitches at the pesky word ‘another’. The mere thought of this faceless, nonexistent being having the audacity to lay claim to you, even in the land of fantasy, has his nostrils flaring and jaw tightening. You can see the ripple of muscles beneath his synthetic skin. He’s a wonder, this proprietorial doll, who can exalt and condemn you in the same breath. 

You are mine, and mine alone, his eyes seem to scream, and I’d sooner end the world than exist in it without having you for myself. 

“You really do scowl too much,” you reiterate your opinion from earlier, gently, almost sweetly. Whatever spell Scaramouche was under temporarily breaks, or perhaps he’s held prisoner to a new one, far more agreeable if not equally dangerous. “Your face is too pretty to always be frowning.” 

You enchant him by running your finger over his lower lip. It trembles by your command. His eyes go lidded, a lovelorn haze obscuring the former tempest. He can never decide if he wants to destroy or devour you. For someone like him, he can’t do one without the other. His love for you is a death sentence, despite the immortality that should’ve never belonged to your mortal body. 

It’s you who kisses him. 

He temporarily forgets himself. The arrogance, the hurt, the fear that you might slip between his fingers should he ever relax his hold. You find him foolish in that regard. He can have you in the palm of his hand if he likes, and you know he’d like that very much. There’s nowhere else for you to be. Not when he’s seen to the fact himself. 

Scaramouche melts into your person, returning your kiss with rapture, drunk on the way you offer yourself to him. He makes a deep, breathy noise, willing you closer, demanding total subservience. You let him have his way. Civilizations could rise and fall in the seconds that follow, and he’d pay them no mind, too absorbed with savoring your temporary connection. 

It is what he lives for; what he'd kill for.

His fair skin is flushed when you part. From the apple of his cheeks to the tip of his ears, he’s painted in a color from your palette. The pigmentation suits him. Red is the color around his eyes, of his longing for you, and of what would spill across the land should you ever part. 

“There,” you whisper, as if it were a secret meant for him alone, “That look suits you far better.” 

He wants to deny it — you can tell by how his grip tightens — but he remains uncharacteristically quiet. If he gets to delight in you, it’s only fair that you can occasionally delight in him, he supposes. 

Such is your capricious nature. 

[lilmashae]

good luck ! ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧

you've got your ex boyfriend in a chokehold...

for whatever reason you two never worked out. you're convinced that it's just because jake wants to prove you and all of his friend's wrong. he’s not the type to be in love. he's always leaving with another dumb excuse.

however he always comes back — within a day at that. it's not like he needs you or anything — it's just that there's seemingly no one as good as you out there for him.

11:29 PM — there's a knock at your door... you sit down on your couch picking at your nails until you hear another one... and another one. it's not anyone important — just jake. this is apart of his routine in which he runs off before rushing back into your bed. however he's seriously starting to piss you off as far as his routine of calling things off goes. the knocking finally comes to a halt before you get up sauntering towards your apartments entrance. click! you push the door open — 'you know you are really starting to piss me off jaeyun! really how many times are you going to —' before you could finish scolding him jake's lips were colliding roughly into your own.

you knew what to expect — just not like this. usually he likes to bluff — indulge in a ‘serious’ conversation admitting to all his faults before he tries to mount you. but this time he wastes no time at all. jake kicks the door behind him backing you into the corner of your living room. your back is firmly pressed against the cool glass of your apartment’s window. as hot as this is… you’re still upset.

he hums into the kiss nipping at your lips as you finally pull away. ‘hey! you can’t just barge in.’ you huff — your heavy breaths can across his face a smile dancing along his lips. ‘I missed you…’ jake sighed. ‘yeah.’ scoffing you push him off of you wandering to sit back onto your couch. ‘I bet you did.’ it’s been what..? 10 hours — since he just up and left. less time than the last but still longer than usual. admittedly it was becoming sickening to be apart of his little affair.

‘baby… come on.’ he pleaded. jake softly walked in your direction — standing above you he reached for your hands. ‘you know how I get… how we are..?’ he licks his lips. ‘you know I want you more than anything in the world.’ again he does anything possible to stop himself from saying it out loud — he loves you. ‘same as always jake.’ you try to stand up but not before his hands engulf your own and he drops to his knees before you. ‘im yours you know that.’ in his hand your own palm strokes his cheek as he nuzzles into the warmth of your skin. ‘seemingly your anyone’s with a hole—’ your interrupted by the abundance of sudden kisses and strides along your thighs.

‘jaeyun…’ you glare down at him. ‘please…’ he whined. ‘fine!’ you cave. ‘I’ll play your little game…’ you sigh throwing your head back. defeat — again: or at least that’s what jake sees. once more your positioned underneath him — his head burrowed between your thighs tongue lovingly lapping your cunt as his teeth nipped at your clit. ‘fuck…’ you gasped. ‘at least your good for one thing.’ he frowned against your cunt still sloppily making with your entrance. a groan flew past his lips at the feeling of your fingers digging into his scalp — intertwining with each loc of hair and yanking him into place before kneading his scalp to ease the previous damage.

it was normal for you to be rough with him: pull his hair scream at him — especially after this sort of thing… happens. however you’re eerily calm — softly gasping and heavily breathing beneath him. it was a bit weird — you’d usually fuck all of your anger out by smothering him between your thighs sitting on his face and grinding against his tongue until you spilt and toppled over — that or you’d let him fuck you in missionary as he thrust his length further within the walls of your cunt you’d slap him and slur out all sorts of insults. but again jake felt a sense of calm wash over him as you harshly yanked his hair again… this time pulling him completely away from your pussy. he glanced up at you — hooded eyes and furrowed brows. he was expecting some derogatory remark however he was only met with a simple demand. ‘get up.’ you said. slowly he’d risen to his feet. his adman’s apple bobbed as he thickly swallowed the lump in his throat.

frankly you were sick of the bullshit. jake needed to realize that he couldn’t have the whole world in his reach all the time. ‘now you sit.’ another pair of instructions fled your mouth as you stood eye level with him. ‘go on… what are you waiting for?’ after that he found himself sitting before you — your positions replaced.

you say perched prettily on his lips. before jake got the chance to ask any stupid questions you suffocated him with your lips — passionately kissing him so hard he sunk back into the pillowy soft material of your couch. ‘shit y/n…’ you left a peck on the side of his lips staring deep into his eyes — your fingers yet again travailed the expanse of his head before latching onto his hair. ‘fuck!’ a moan ripped from his throat feeling you manhandle him. ‘listen jaeyun.’ you warned. ‘im getting sick of going back and forth understand? you’re mine and if i have to fuck that into you… so be it.’ you smiled against the nape of neck — trailing wet kisses down his collarbones. ‘please fuck me…’ he groaned. you could already feel his cock growing beneath you — the imprint of his shaft and leaky tip caressing your naked sex.

you gently lifted yourself up off his lap. curling your fingers under the waistband of his sweatpants and slipping them down his thighs. through his boxers you could clearly see the strained image of his cock. ‘poor boy…’ you cooed. he nodded along with you. ‘damnit… just fucking touch me…’ jake was growing impatient: desperate to feel the warm silken walls of your cunt tightly wrapped around himself. quickly you grasped his face between one of your hands. ‘don’t rush me.’ you smiled removing his boxers at the same time. ‘ah…’ the cold air kissing his tip caused him to moan out for air. you could see every vein adorning his cock pulse toward his tip.

sinking down into his shaft — both your brows knitted. both jake and your own facial expressions twisted into something of an uncomfortable pleasure. ‘so tight… I think my dick’s gonna break..!’

‘relax…’ you kissed along his jawline before beginning to pump his dick inside of your cunt. ‘m… fuck baby… no one does it like you…’ you roll your eyes at the comment. you know… just as well as he does. he loves you and your cunt. of course no one is better. ‘I know… just waiting for you to realize.’ you began to speed up — feeling the tip of jake’s cock kiss your cervix.

his hand’s remained firmly splayed on your hips as you continued to rock back and forth — eventually bouncing on his cock like crazy. ‘s-shit.’ he tripped over his words as his hips stuttered up into your pussy. ‘yeah? ‘feel good ‘yunie?’ you mockingly stared down at him — frantically nodding. ‘hm… I bet.’ you watched as jake sunk his yeeth into his deliciously plump lips trying to bite back any moans. ‘i think I’m going to cum.’ he announced. you smiled holding him up by his chin. ‘are you?’ ‘y-yeah..?’ you began to slow yourself down… truth be told you were close too. your stomach tightened and you felt a wave of pleasure beginning to dawn over you. however like you mentioned before — jake’s kiddy antics were really staring to piss you off. ‘what..? fuck! why’d you stop ..?’ he hissed — his orgasm slowly fading into overstimulation.

you watched as his eyes became foggy and his tongue lolled out of his mouth. ‘you know why… say it jae… come on pretty boy — it’s not that hard.’ he furrowed his brows once more whimpering beneath you… truly pathetic… ‘you’re mine yeah? be a good boy and stop running away just because you’re embarrassed to admit you love me.’ he let out a strained moan. ‘m… fuck fuck shit..! I do love you… love you so fucking much but!’ no buts… you continued grinding painfully slow into his bulge. ‘say it jaeyun… you won’t cum tonight yeah? and definitely won’t cum thanks to some other girl your using to replace me.’

‘im yours… god! please let me cum — I’m yours y/n! shit baby just want to be with you forever.’ that’s it… that’s exactly what you wanted — the truth. ‘good on you for being honest baby… now go ahead.’ you began to pick up your pace — steadily bouncing on his cock until tears fled his eyes. ‘fuckkk..!’ he gasped as he came inside of your cunt. hot ropes of cum sprayed your insides as you came undone as well. you finally placed one last kiss on to his lips before getting up. the sticky mess you’d both created oozing from your cunt and melting into his lap.

waltzing off to go get a towel to clean yourselves jake stopped you. ‘wait… come back.’ he slurred with barely open eyes. ‘what is it jaeyun?’ ‘I love you… ‘don’t ever want to leave again.’ he would be the death of you…

being in a relationship with him you’d need all the good luck you could conjure!

I am genuinely unwell… was feeling sad, so here’s some jake smut with incorrect grammar, etc 🤡🤡🤡

[lovedrruunk]

‘General Venture dating headcanons!

Authors note; literally wrote all of this during my genocide and holocaust studies class.… I’m going to hell…Also guys idk whether to use “y/n” or not like I can’t help but cringe… is it corny or no gah idk ALSO AUGHHH IM SUCH A LIAR im literally so behind on all my assignments!!!! And I still have requests to do whatever whatever enjoy!!!

They’re very secure as a person (and they trust you lots!) so I don’t think they’d get easily jealous but when they are they're sneaky with it, they’d be the type to like sabotage lolol

“Do you think I have a chance?”

“Oh with (____) ? Yea sure but just so y’know they were only recently discharged from the psyche ward…”

“Oh…”

“Yea… doctors said they’d never be the same ..… poor thing…..

( ＾◡＾)”

They’re actually just the sweetest most understanding s/o ever like genuinely let them know all your of worries, share all your burdens, they happily will!!

Will DIE if they ever made you upset. Like would start genuinely tweaking and going crazy. Will buy every gift and write so many letters apologizing for whatever they’d done until you’re happy again

Even worse if they make you mad like omg ESPECIALLY IF UR GIVING THEM THE SILENT TREATMENT

do be expecting them outside your window with a boombox on their head playing some old romantic Spanish saop opera song

They seem like the type who can’t cook for shit (I’m projecting here) BUT they will try just for you! They’ll attempt to cook your favorite foods… please lie to them!!

Absolutely loves to spoil / do things for you but if you do the same they freak out, lots of ‘You shouldn’t have!’s and ‘Shuckssss teehehehe’

Of COURSEEE gifts you lots of pretty rocks!!! Constantly. Your house might have a random rock in every corner but hey what can you do? what’s that? Refuse to take it? Yea if you want them to die!!!! You might as well have just ripped their heart out! just say you hate them and never wanna see them ever again!!!

Speaking of… lots of dramatics. However they’re smart enough to know when to stop so it’s not to the point of being annoying or anything! They can’t help but be playful, it’s in their blood

Not only are they a terrible cook but they're a terrible driver as well, there's definitely a hidden drawer filled with all their tickets... somebody get them off the damn road!

Treats the drill like a pet lol, y'know those jokes about pitbulls named princess? That's for sure what's going on here. Yea it's a dangerously massive drill meant to effortlessly barrow through solid ground but it's also their little meowmeow so?? Their admiral turbo meowington? If you suggest they wash it from all the dirt and grime they'll pout and say something stupid like; "but but flufflestiltskin hates the bath"

That's all I can think of right now but I'm sure there's more cooking in the back of my head!! Hope you like it, this was rlly fun lolol (IM SO IN LOVE WITH THEM SOMEONE SEDATE ME.)