#i luv them to pieces <3

[stanisnotonfire77]

fetus dnp photocard (>^ω^<)💞

[beanghostprincess]

Sabosan is one of those cases in which I ship two characters just because they're my favorites. They haven't interacted at all but I fucking adore them.

[ofgentleresolve]

@wellfell sent in: drenched in sunlight , waves are peacefully brushing over the soft sand . she hates sunlight with the same passion she's been hating momoko since middle school . her beach party was loud , unlike what they thought of her , akina wasn't keen to exist in crowded places like these but at least she looked good . under the shade , sipping her cool berry juice with her pink sunglasses on . pissed , bored , and exceptionally aware of the fact that her old friends hasn't forgotten about the scandals that had her name on it . . . all went smooth until lamon approached her — she was peacefully brooding and glaring at the sea until he sat beneath the cool shadow of the shade beside her . and smiled a little . ❛ did momoko got tired of eyeing me and send you to check on me ? if she keeps calling me miss dracula i will break her jaw . go tell her that . ❜ of course momoko didn't send him , lamon doesn't listen to anyone . she didn't even know with such thick walls of ice between him and his friends , why exactly he appeared . maybe the same reason she did , to see him .

Here’s how life goes: it happens and then expects you to act like it never did. Is that how they think he should act? What, with the way they disappeared into thin air in the aftermath of the accident, only to reappear two years later with some kind of squeal like ‘oh my god, I haven’t seen you in like forever, how have you been my guy?’. Those were the same people who didn’t even bother to visit him in the hospital, let alone send a text. And now they come crawling back like nothing ever happened? Like he’s still the same shadow from two years ago, the naive lamb who would take everything said to him at face value.

Yeah right.

Momoko’s beach party sounded like a drag, from the very beginning. For one thing, the more Co*caine Don*nald’s new roommate talked about, the less it sounded like a meetup so much as a frat party, but copy-and-pasted onto a beach. Why would he go when his roommate already drags him to the beach ( in the middle of the night too- some would say it’s sketchy, but again, who cares, it’s four in the morning, no one should be giving a shit at this time ) anyways? This is just the same, except now he has to put sunblock on if he doesn’t want to burned.

But he’s here anyway, half-tuned out to whatever the hell Momoko and the others are saying. The only reason he knows her is because she was friends with Robin back in the day. ‘Was friends’ because he’s pretty sure she’s not taking the time to go see her up north. He has a red solo cup holding some mysterious blue liquid, which he has no intention on finishing. It’s easy to see how strong the punch is just by the sheer amount of time it took for people to get plastered. Why did he change his mind again?

“Why would she ask me that? She can do her own bidding.” That and if she did ask Lam that, he’d cuss her out instead. At the very least he’d say if she’s so intent on harassing someone she invited, she damn well better have the guts to do it herself. He takes the seat next to the only tolerable person at this party. If the others are busy getting smashed, heating up as hot as the summer sun shining down on them, then Akina is the SEA BREEZE. 

( The wind, day or night, has always been his favorite part of the beach. )

“If you’re Count Dracula, then she can be a WEREWOLF- loud and furry.” Which would be fitting for her, he doesn’t add. Knees brush against Akina’s bare ones. In all technicalities, she doesn’t have to be here either, doesn’t have to hang around these people who smile to her face but give back-handed comments behind her back. 

So why did she go?

( He could ask himself the same question, really. When a mutual friend mentioned that Akina would also be invited, he looked up from his phone for a long moment- she always does that to him, making him stop what he’s doing and listen. He has her number so he could’ve asked her point blank if she would be going. That would be the easiest way to know and to see her.

But then again, for all the times they could be direct with each other, they…aren’t. And besides, if they can just keep ‘meeting up by circumstance’ then it’s all the more convenient, isn’t it? People will talk either way. )

He motions towards the water and the shoreline that stretches in parallel. “...Wanna ditch? They won’t notice if we’re gone for a while.”

[anurarana]

What do you mean when you refer to some of your characters as prequel?

HI OK SO my story (that still has no name, sorry, I know that kinda makes it confusing when I talk about it) is split up into 2 distinctive parts: the Main Story and the Prequel. The main story follows a trio of kids (renée, deliah, and matiás) as they travel across the continent and make allies and over throw the government and defeat the big evil yadda yadda it's a k-12 teen fantasy story yknow the drill lmao. The Prequel, however, follows mainly leon and kana, two mentor figures to the trio, and how they came to act the way they do and know the things they do, it's main function is to provide exposition and further background that the trio really have no business ever knowing. Another major element is that the 2 parts have very different tones. The underlying theme of the main story will always be Hope. To have hope and search for love and friendship and keep going when things seem utterly bleak. But for the prequel, it's a tragedy. There is no happy ending, and you know that from the start. You meet characters that feel important, but you have never seen before, characters that you know but can't recognize anymore. The main story starts with the world completely broken, and the prequel shows you how it got to that point

[arugulafriend]

In March I’m getting a big ass thistle tattoo and I’m so excited ;-; I should have scheduled it sooner tbh

[dollfacefantasy]

I love your writing sm, it's just what I needed μ_μ Do you think you could write Leon being the father of reader's idiot ex who just broke up with her? Leon just wants to console her and the reader only thinks about all the sexual tension they had for a while and now they have nothing to stop them.

(sorry if my english is bad, luv ya)

pairing: leon kennedy x fem!reader

summary: your ex boyfriend's dad comforts you after you and his son breakup

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, age gap

word count: 5.3k

a/n: dilf leon you KNOW i love that. thank you so much for your request. i hope you like it! i used death island for the picture, but imagine leon in his late forties for this. as always, reblogs and comments are appreciated <3

tags: @sleepyluxe @kaitkatme @tosuckmyweenis @pupthepokemonenthusiast @bizzarethirst @death-paint @iron-toxinz @wildest-dreams-at-midnight @nexysworld @explorevenus @luniaxi

Leon lets out a deep sigh as he yanks the keys out of the ignition and his car's engine fizzles out. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he looks down at his lap. He takes another deep breath and shakes his head before looking out the window at your apartment building. He’d been told you lived on the fourth floor.

He opens the door next, stepping out into the cold air. The sun was nowhere to be found today, the sky completely masked by a collection of gray clouds. He walks around to the back of the car and pops the trunk open to collect the box of memories he’d been tasked with returning to you.

He didn’t understand how he’d ended up with this job. Despite his numerous daydreams he wished he could forget, you weren’t ever his girlfriend. He hadn’t been the one you’d come over to visit. You didn’t fall asleep in his room or wear his t-shirts or kiss him goodbye when you left. He hadn’t been the one to cheat on you or make you cry for days on end either. No. That’d been his son.

So why was he the one going out of his way to bring you this stuff? That was what he couldn’t comprehend.

Well that’s not exactly true. He comprehended just fine. His son planned on throwing out your stuff that’d been left at his house, remnants of your eight months together. Leon didn’t want that. He’d told his son to pack it up and take it to you like a man should. He had been the one in the wrong after all. But no, his son argued up and down, coming up with every reason under the sun as to why it was better to just throw it away. So Leon just gave up. He knew if he commanded it, his son would just shove your shit in a box and drive down the street to throw it from the window of his moving car. The car Leon paid for.

Truth be told, he always had a soft spot for you. A chamber of his heart that was coated in guilt, surrounded by denial, but internally the sweetest part of him. The one piece of his soul that saw some light in the world that had gone dark for him years ago. So just for you, Leon drove the thirty minutes to your complex to deliver your belongings.

He picks up the cardboard box and tucks it under his arm. The trunk slams with a loud thump, and he’s thinking of what he’s even going to say to you when you open the door. Come to think of it, he didn’t even know if you were home. He had a pretty good idea of your schedule from the time you’d spend on the phone with his son or at his house, but he didn’t even check to be sure.

In the midst of mentally scolding himself, the bottom of the box bursts, and your items go tumbling out onto the pavement. He tries to catch them, but his fingers just miss. Another sigh seeps from his lungs as he crouches down to scoop them up. He picks up a pink hoodie that’d been crumpled up at the foot of his son’s bed, a stuffed bear he saw him pull from the crack between the mattress and the wall, and a bracelet that laid abandoned on the nightstand. He collects other little pieces of you scattered across the damp concrete before managing to situate them in his arms and resume walking to you.

He tosses the broken box into the nearby trash before entering the building and going down the hall and to the elevator. From what he saw, the place was alright. You didn’t live in luxury, but he was relieved he wouldn’t be left worrying about your safety after he left.

The elevator glides up to your floor in total silence with him being the only one in the small space. The little ding that marks his arrival releases a burst of anxiety within him. He felt so dumb. He was nervous like he was your and his son’s age. He pushes those feelings away and gets himself to be normal, to act his age. All he had to do was knock, shove this shit in your arms, and leave.

On the way down the hall to your unit, he realizes this plan means this will probably be the last time he ever sees you. Spare some chance encounter at the grocery store, this would be the final time he’d feel your sweet eyes on him or see that timid smile when he complimented you. That made him sad to think about. He never thought you’d be a permanent fixture in his life. You and his son were young, and being the type of guy his son was, he doubted your relationship was destined to succeed. In honesty, he was shocked it lasted as long as it did. But now, the ending was real. Knowing the time with you in his life was coming to a close felt how the sky outside looked.

Once he reaches the door with your number on it, his fist taps the wood twice. He hears soft shuffling inside, followed by the sound of locks being undone a couple moments later. You crack the door open, standing there in your pajamas. Both your top and bottoms were plain gray. You looked worn down. He could tell you’d been crying. Poor baby.

Your tired eyes flicker with curiosity when they glance up at his face. 

“Mr. Kennedy?” you ask with confusion.

His mouth breaks into a charming grin upon hearing that. “How many times do I have to tell you to call me Leon before it sticks?” he teases.

“Sorry…” you say. You didn’t smile at his teasing like normal. Given the circumstances, he supposed that made sense. “What are you doing here?”

“I have some of your stuff you left at my house. Can I come in?” he asks.

Now your eyes flash with a brief spout of anger, but you still open the door wider for him to enter.

“He couldn’t bring it to me?” you ask with clear bitterness in your tone.

He cringes at the sound. What was he supposed to say? In reality, he was on your side, but wouldn’t it be wrong to tell you that? He loved his son. He really did. Even with all the mistakes he made and the flaws he’d caused the boy, he loved him. He probably shouldn’t talk shit about him with his ex-girlfriend.

But at the same time, it was you. You weren’t just some random ex-girlfriend. He’d known you for the better half of a year. You were sweet, actually polite enough to say hello when you came over. You could hold a conversation. And sure, it didn’t hurt any that you were cute too. He felt something strong for you. He just struggled to articulate exactly what that something was. He was tempted to say you’d become part of the family. That’s probably what plenty of others in his situation would say. But the shameful thoughts that plagued his mind when he was alone late at night begged to differ with that assessment

Right now, it didn’t look like you were doing well. He sees the setup you have for yourself on the couch. A heap of blankets, pushed and twisted up around the spot you’d clearly been laying before he interrupted. The curtains were drawn, it was dark in here. You didn’t need him to run defense for the guy who cheated on you, relations aside.

“Guess not,” is how he finally answers your question to which he’s met with a roll of your eyes.

“Of course,” you mutter while walking over to meet him at the counter so you can inspect your items after he puts them down.

You rifle through the different things, scanning them haphazardly before returning your disinterested gaze to him. Your arms cross over your chest, and you shrug.

“Thanks, I guess.”

You’re clearly expecting him to leave now. And he knows that’s what he should do. Awkwardly shuffle out the door with a small wave goodbye. He can’t though. Something inside him won’t let him pull away just yet.

“How have you been?” he starts tentatively, “Haven’t seen you in a few weeks.” 

“Fine… I guess,” you answer.

You guess. Again. A nervous tick. An indicator of deflection. You clearly didn’t want to delve into the inner workings of your broken heart with the father of the man responsible. He should back off. But he doesn’t.

“Are you sure? I know you two are broken up now or whatever you want to call it, but I still care about you, you know? You’re a sweet girl,” he starts, hating how this was coming out, “I just… I know how it is to feel alone. I don’t want that for you. If you need someone to talk to…”

“I should come to you? Is that it?” you say, a bit harsher than he would like.

“Well… yeah?” he responds.

You turn away, cutting him off from seeing your reactions. “That’s nice, Leon. But… I don’t think you’re the one I should talk to about any of this,” you say.

He takes a step closer, laying a cautious hand on your shoulder. “I think I’m the perfect one for you to talk to about this,” he says.

His reasoning is brief, but he doesn’t feel the need for more. Despite your resistance, the gears in your head are turning, deciding whether or not to take the offer. “There’s nothing to even talk about. It is what it is,” you reply. He can hear that characteristic softness returning to your voice.

“I don’t think that’s true. You don’t have to lie to me,” he says, getting even closer. He gently guides you back to the couch and clears some space for the two of you to sit. He directs your eyes back to him before he finishes speaking. “It’ll stay between us.”

You look up at him, sweet glossy eyes threatening to spill your emotions down your cheeks. He can see your apprehension, but in the end, you still decide to go for it.

“I just… I feel so dumb,” you start, biting your lip.

“You shouldn’t,” he tells you.

“But I do,” you say, voice becoming strained, “People told me he would do something like this, and I actually defended him. I’m so stupid, and everyone knows it now.”

While he wasn’t too pleased to learn of his son’s reputation, his sympathy for you overwhelms that. His hand rubs up and down your back as your head falls to your hands.

“Sweetheart…” he sighs, the term rolling out before he can stop himself, “It’s not your fault. It’s not a bad thing to be trusting.”

He sees your face tense as you lose the battle to hold your tears in. His heart aches seeing you look so defeated.

“Yes it is,” you cry, “I hate it.”

“Hey, c’mere,” he says and pulls you closer. He drapes his arm over your shoulder and holds you to his side. “Don’t talk like that about yourself, ok? Being cheated on doesn’t mean there’s something wrong with you.”

He felt slightly awkward considering the cheater in question is his own flesh and blood. The feeling of your soft body against him overrides that thought though. You’re still weeping into his chest, so he continues.

“Look, baby,” he says. Another pet name. His mind screams for him to get a grip. “I love my son, but… I know him too. He can be insensitive, and that’s not what a girl like you needs.”

You look up at him, interested in his potential point. In your eyes, he feels he can see his reflection glaring back at him with disapproval.

“You’re such a precious thing. Someone to be handled with care,” he whispers, stroking your jaw, “I don’t want this to take that from you.”

More tears roll down your cheeks while you take in his words. He swipes a couple away with his thumb as he talks to you.

“I’ve made a lot of mistakes. With my ex-wife, with my son, with my work. Christ, just with my life in general.” Why was he telling you this? “I look at you, and you remind me of who I was before those mistakes. I know stuff like this can make you bitter, and I just don’t want that to happen to you. You don’t need to blame yourself for what he did or try to keep how you feel inside. Once you get past this, you’re gonna move onto something better for you. I just don’t want you to forget that.”

He watches your lip quiver harder before the floodgates finally burst. Now that he’d given you permission, you don’t hold back. A sob tumbles from your lips. He immediately goes to pull you closer again, but this time you take it upon yourself. His eyes widen as you scoot into his lap.

It’s as if he acts on instinct though. As soon as you have your face buried against his throat, his arms loop around you in return. One hand rubs the expanse between your shoulder blades while the other simply supports the small of your back.

“Sweet baby…” he whispers.

“He told me he loved me,” you weep. He can feel your warm tears dripping down his skin now.

“I’m sure he did, honey,” he says and rocks back and forth with you a bit.

Now you really unload. You cry against him about basically every wrongdoing his son had committed in your time together. He compared you to other girls, told you that you were too needy, forgot your birthday. And Leon listens to it all, not playing devil’s advocate even once.

Guilt burns hot in his chest though. Nevertheless, he tries to convince himself that he wasn’t doing anything wrong. He was just helping a poor, hurting girl in need. But that excuse crumbles when he simply thinks about what his son would say to the sight of his ex-girlfriend curled up on his father’s lap, clinging to him like he was her new man.

His mind continued trying to justify this anyways, putting forth the idea that this was out of his control. He was powerless when it came to situations like this. The life he led so far had wired a savior complex into his brain. He couldn’t resist you, another princess he could restore to her pedestal.

That was definitely part of why he didn’t put you back on the couch and slowly begin to make an exit. The other part was less honorable. Despite his mind’s ideas of noble motivations, deep down he knew part of this was selfishness. Being human, he wasn’t gonna complain about a pretty young girl warming his lap. And being himself, he certainly wasn’t going to complain because that girl happened to be you. The guilt he felt faded instantly with one look at your doe face or one word from your tender voice.

“None of that is your fault,” he comforts you once you finish your list and breaks away from his thoughts, “You didn’t deserve any of it.”

“I know…” you whimper before another sob comes from you, “I hate him so much. But it’s even worse cause I still miss him.”

That shoots a sharp pang of jealousy through his heart to which he mentally slaps himself. God, you made him feel pathetic, but in a way he didn’t want to admit, that was part of the appeal. He holds you tighter and nuzzles the top of your head, breathing in the scent of your shampoo.

“That’s ok. It’s only natural,” he coos and continues soothing you.

“Why do I miss him? How do I make it stop?” you cry, your voice cracking.

Fuck. You really did remind him of himself which only made this more twisted. He knew what you were feeling so well. That longing ache that festers inside until you feel like clawing your skin off and prying your ribs apart to purge yourself of the infection. He sighs and shifts you on his thigh, pulling you closer to him.

“You can’t make it go away. You know that. It’s a time-heals-all-wounds situation, sweetheart. Just gotta wait it out, but it’ll get better,” he says.

Then he must have truly gone over the edge because he leans in and presses a faint kiss to your hairline. Luckily for him, you don’t protest. Instead, it draws more tears from you. Your arms lock around him and pull the rest of your body closer

“I just feel empty, and I don’t know why. He wasn’t that great… no offense,” you sniffle.

“None taken,” he says softly, a small smile rising on his lips. He keeps rubbing your back, resting his head on top of yours. “Most breakups hurt, even when you’ve run the course of the relationship. It’s not fun losing someone.”

It wouldn’t be fun losing you. That was for fucking sure. He was only making it worse for himself by doing all this. At this point, he wasn’t sure how he’d manage to tear himself away once you stopped crying.

“I guess,” you whimper, lip puffing out into a sweet pout he’d only ever seen as a joke before.

“You’re such a sensitive girl, honey. So delicate,” he murmurs against your hair. He knows he should stop. He’s toeing the borderline, but it’s all he can do to keep himself from hurdling over it at full force.

“I’m overdramatic,” you correct.

He scoffs, dismissing your claim. “Did someone tell you that? Because they don’t know what they’re talking about. You’re precious,” he whispers with another kiss to your head.

That word seems to strike something in you. Your crying that had been dwindling seems to soften down to an occasional ragged breath. You look up at him with your watery eyes. He continues to push away remaining tears on your cheeks before running his knuckles down your jaw.

As he looks into your eyes, the temptation becomes irresistible. He needs you.

“Sweet thing like you… you need someone who can understand you, protect those feelings of yours, not make you feel bad about ‘em,” he says, his thumb dragging over your chin.

“You think so?” you ask.

“Oh yeah. There’s nothing wrong with wearing your heart on your sleeve,” he says teasingly, “All it means is that you care. Plus, this may be just me, but I think it’s pretty cute.”

Your teary eyes widen just the slightest amount, and your hips squirm a bit on his lap. You look down at your fingers fidgeting with one another.

“I don’t know,” you say quietly.

“I do. You’re so pretty when you cry, baby,” he mutters and lifts your chin to get you to look at him again, “You have puppy eyes, just begging for some love.”

A shy smile starts spreading on your face. Your eyes cast down, and he knows he’s got you hooked. Now he just has to reel you in.

“Yeah, you know it’s true,” he whispers and leans in to kiss your cheeks, “Bet you have a lot of fun using ‘em on people.”

“No,” you say timidly, eyes glancing back up at him.

“Oh, of course not. A little angel like you would never take advantage,” he teases. He kisses across your cheek bone to your temple, and then moves his lips down to where your jaw meets your neck. He can hear your breath hitching. His hands pull you closer to his body, feeling your warmth up against him. One slides to your side, rubbing up and down slowly.

“That’s why you need to be taken care of,” he breathes against your skin, “Let me take care of you, baby.”

You nod with no hesitation on your part. He can tell from the breath you let out that you're giving into some temptations of your own. Your head leans in and he ducks down to connect your lips, nearly groaning as he feels the plush flesh press against him. The kisses start off tender, just little pecks as you explore the feeling of each other. But they soon grow in passion. Your mouths open against each other. Your tongues meet, and spit coats one another's lips. You’re both breathing heavier.

He pulls back to look at you, those eyes he had been going on about now clouded with lust. Moving in for a few more, he cups your face. “You like that?” he murmurs.

“Mhm,” you hum, reciprocating the affection. 

He chuckles as you move in even closer, the swell of your breasts pushing up against his chest. His hands squeeze your waist and turn you around so your back is to his front, your head tilted on his shoulder.

“Pretty baby, so eager for me,” he coos as his hands smooth up your stomach to your chest. He fondles your tits through your top, feeling their entirety since you weren’t wearing a bra.

The softest noise of satisfaction leaves you, and you nip at his lips. He deepens the kiss in response, groping you a bit harder. Your hands travel South to his belt, attempting to undo behind your back, but his hand drops and grabs your wrists.

“Not yet,” he corrects with a kiss to your temple, “There’s no rush. I want to take my time with you. Warm you up like you deserve.”

His mouth envelopes yours again while his hand releases your wrists and returns to your breast. He can feel your nipples perking up in anticipation. His cock starts to do the same beneath you. As you feel it, you roll your ass back against him, providing some friction. He smiles against your lips, the prior reservations he had about this leaving his mind one by one.

Maneuvering his palms between your thighs, his fingers coast up and down the sensitive skin. His mouth trails down to your neck to kiss you there, sucking soft love bites onto your throat. You’re single now. It’s not like you’d have to hide them.

He parts your legs a bit more before cupping them underneath and pulling you down so that you’re at an angle where he can remove the fluffy pajama pants that kept him from his target. You watch the soft fabric fall away and crumple up on the floor. You’re a little jittery as he exposes your skin now. This is real, no longer a far-fetched fantasy.

His hand is on your pussy in seconds, stroking you through the thin cotton that covers it. The kisses to your throat don’t stop, and his free hand keeps you in place on his lap.

“Those college boys you’ve been running around with are too busy thinking with their dicks. They don’t know what to do with a prize like you,” he murmurs and drags his nose up the curve of your face.

He chooses to forget the fact that the boy you had been running around with was his son. That didn’t need to matter right now. All that mattered was the whimper that fell from you, the way your hair felt against the crook of his neck. His fingers play with you a little more before sliding into your panties.

“Aw, you’re already getting wet, hm?” he purrs, “Precious girl. Probably so pent up. Never been properly fucked the way you shoulda been.”

You nod and turn your head to look into his eyes. He takes the chance to kiss you again, working his mouth with yours while his fingers coasted through your folds.

“Need you to make it better,” you mumble against his lips.

You feel his smirk and how he kisses with increased fervor. The pads of his fingers swirl around your clit, eliciting a tiny gasp from you.

“Not a problem, baby. You’re not leaving my lap till you can’t remember why you were crying in the first place,” he whispers.

You sigh with content and resume languidly making out. His fingertips are rough on the smooth skin of your center, dragging over your sweet spots with the best friction you’d ever felt. Your body arches into his touch. You actually want more. A refreshing feeling for you.

He continues focusing on your sensitive bundle of nerves, flicking over it, pressing small circles into it, swiping down across it. Occasionally, he’d massage lower, teasing your entrance and feeling the arousal pooling from his actions.

“You like how I’m playing with you? Feel good having that clit touched? It’s so sensitive, just like the rest of you,” he breathes.

You nod again,  a desperate whine unraveling out of you. He chuckles and speeds up his fingers.

“I knew you would. You’re beyond the little boys who thrust a few times and leave you wanting for more. Think it’s pretty obvious you need a real man,” he says.

He didn’t even know where half this stuff was coming from, but he wasn’t gonna launch an investigation into it. It worked for you, so it was working for him.

Your hips buck as he maintains a steady pace and even amount of pressure. He rubbed you just the way you liked, as if he knew your body on an instinctual level.

“You’re gonna cum just from my fingers. You can do it. Have you gushing already before I slip my cock in you,” he murmurs against your skin.

His fingers have started making wet noises as they slide up and down on your cunt. You mewl and tense up, relishing the pleasure he brought you. You whimper out his name quietly, over and over. Leon. Specifically him.

“That’s right, sweetheart. Who’s the one making you feel so good? Who’s the one you’ve needed all along?”

You gasp it again for him. Leon.

“Good girl,” he growls.

He moves his fingers with more precision and dedication, taking you right to the blissful edge and letting you crash over it. Watching how your body writhes on his lap, he holds you through it. He makes sure to keep you up right.

You feel lightning strike within you, the storm of euphoria swirling in the pit of your stomach. You let go all over his fingers, and thoroughly coat his hand with your release. He goes in for more, sliding his fingers down as if they’re going to dip inside you, but you whine in protest.

“Leon… don’t wanna wait anymore,” you whimper.

He chuckles at your impatience and shakes his head.

“You talk about it like you’ve been waiting forever when it’s only been a couple minutes,” he teases.

“Feels like forever,” you pout.

He kisses your frown and pulls your underwear off completely. He then turns you around on his lap to face him.

“You ready for the real thing then?” he breathes, smirking at your quick confirmation.

He boosts his hips off the couch and shoves his pants down enough so that his cock can spring free. It bobs up in anticipation. His hand grasps it, sliding it against your entrance. 

After a few teasing swipes, he sinks you down on it, savoring every small change in your expression. Your eyes flutter, your mouth lolls open slightly, your brows furrow.

“Oh, I can tell that’s what you’ve been needing,” he whispers, guiding your hips into a rhythm.

You bounce up and down on him, breathy moans escaping you with each rise and fall.

“Mhm, wanted it for so long,” you whine.

His eyebrow raises at that. “Yeah?” he grunts, sharply inhaling as you squeeze around him, “How long? How bad did you want it?”

“So bad. Wanted it for months,” you confess as your head falls back, “Wanted to be yours instead.”

He knows he’s going to hell for the rush of satisfaction that floods his veins. He doesn’t falter though, just pulls you closer and starts thrusting up into you.

“Oh, did you? Dirty secret, baby, but I can’t say I didn’t feel the same way,” he moans before reconnecting his mouth with yours, “Sweet baby like you, wanted you to be all mine.”

A quick moan leaves you, and you keep riding. Your hips roll up and down, working him as deep into you as he can go. Your arousal drips down his heavy balls, making a mess where the two of you connect.

“Dreamed about you sometimes,” you gasp, letting it all out.

His eyes droop with more desire. They shouldn’t, but your revelations only spurred him on. He thrusts up harder and digs his fingers into the flesh of your hips.

“Yeah? Bet you felt so guilty waking up soaked between your legs for someone you couldn’t have,” he says, vision trained on you, “I felt the same way. Hard as a rock for you and no relief.”

“Now there is,” you whimper as you lean down and nuzzle your face against his.

With hot breaths in each other's face, you both feel the cords of release being pulled taut. You bite your lip, and he cages you in against his body, keeping you flush against him.

“Even with that dirty little secret, you’re still such a good girl. Need you to be my good girl,” he mumbles in your ear before moaning, hips tensing as he feels the sweeping sense of euphoria.

You nod dumbly as your own high creeps up on you. “Oh fuck I’m gonna cum,” you whine before burying your face into his shoulder. Your hands clutch at his biceps, digging little crescents into the muscle.

He fucks you through it, making you see stars and keeping them suspended in your sights. You cling to him and clamp around him. His thrusts get sloppy, but he won’t stop until you’re coming down. That’s when he finally pulls out and gives himself a few strokes to completion, finishing on your ass. He figured you were on the pill, but he wasn’t going to make a riskier chance an even bigger risk.

You feel the warm liquid dripping down the curve of your ass. You’re too fucked out to be concerned with clean up right now though. He smiles down at you and gives you some kisses as a way to cool you off.

Reaching over to the end table, he grabs a few tissues and swipes away the small mess on your backside. After some more soothing affection, the two of you briefly readjust your clothing and get comfy with each other again. He figured this probably wasn’t the best thing he could be doing in this situation. He just fucked his son’s ex and now he was going to cuddle her too? But he does it anyway because it was what you needed, and that was his mind’s priority at the moment.

He thinks about leaving though, reverting to the original plan. He could let you doze off and just slip away. But he doesn’t. You’re too sweet, and you’re hurting. He didn’t want to pile on, but the idea that this shouldn’t develop into more than a passionate fuck still lingers in his mind..

That is until he hears your voice.

“Are you gonna leave?” you ask softly.

He looks down, heart aching at the sight of you.

“Not yet,” he answers.

“Ok good,” you say and sink into him again, “I might need you again later. In case I get sad again.”

He rolls his eyes at your attempt to play innocent. “Guess I’m stuck here then. Can’t have you crying all alone,” he says.

“Mhm,” you hum, leaning up to give him a kiss. One of the sweetest kisses he’d ever had. And just like that, you’re luring him back in.

“You know… maybe I should be proactive, make sure you don’t get the chance to be sad again today…” he murmurs, shifting to lay down on the couch and give you some kisses of his own. “Think you need some more distracting.”

He was done for.

[sharkorok]

ooo u want me so bad

or…grumpy!enha being in luv w u

requested: nope

cw/genre: cursing, grumpy enhypen, fluff, humor, crack-ish, fem!reader, non-idol au, I wrote this during a zoom class, not proofread fuck it we ball, one joke about reader getting jumped?? anyways lmk if anything else should be tagged hehe

a/n: this was inspired by @macahoons grumpy enhypen texts that I just adored!!! Such a cute trope <3

•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•

heeseung

-he’s the basketball team captain, always idly boasting about his talents and loves being first place

-the only exception is you.

-he will never admit it but he absolutely lets you win every time you find him at the basketball court and u challenge him to some dumb scoring game where u see how many baskets u each can get

-“OMG HI HEESEUNG!! :3” when u find him at the basketball court and he sighs but he’s trying not to scream at how cute u r lowkey

-ur all giggly when u keep beating him “hee r u even trying?” “I’m just having a bad day don’t even” like he isn’t completely distracted by the way you look when ur grinning at him

-“I think I can take ur place as basketball team captain!” “In ur dreams??” but he’d gladly give it up if you would keep smiling like that

-insists on walking you home from the court because “I’m not gonna be held responsible for you getting jumped”

-and the next time you catch him on the basketball court it happens all over again! <3

jay

-you can’t even finish saying “I’m cold” before his jacket is over your shoulders and he’s scolding you for not being prepared

-sitting down and your skirt is riding up? his uniform blazer is over your lap and he’s shaking his head

-“what would you do without me??” “do you want your jacket back then , jay?” “…no”

-while it’s also because he cares about ur wellbeing, he also just really likes the sight of you wearing his clothes and you smelling like his cologne

-you literally walk into the room and he’s immediately “y/n you need to buy a thicker jacket you’re gonna get sick” not even a good morning or anything…

-“don’t tell people ur wearing my jacket I don’t want them to get the wrong idea 🙄” but lowkey he wouldn’t mind at all

-gets so (internally) giggly when u sink into his jacket because it’s chilly

-finds excuses u give u his clothes at this point …the tiniest piece of lint on ur shirt and he’s handing you his blazer

-“u can keep it ig”

jake

-gets you tiny gifts and acts like he just randomly found them

-he totally went out of his way to find you two matching keychains but he doesn’t wanna admit that

-“y/n I just randomly found your favorite seasonal pastry. no big deal. don’t thank me.”

-BUT HE ALSO KEEPS EVERY GIFT U GET HIM OMGEEE, he has a whole area on his desk dedicated to notes, trinkets, stickers, if you drew on his paper he’ll tear the section off so he can keep it LOL

-will never admit that. to anyone. but gets pressed if you give gifts to anyone else because that’s his y/nnie!! giving HIS gifts to some rando!! D: the cruelty!!

-gets sooo dramatic if he doesn’t get at least a little doodle he’s texting you like you killed a man

-one time his friend asked if he could borrow a pencil and he was like yea man sure and then realizing it was a pencil YOU!! gave him he snatched it back so fast trust

-he’s so cutie patootie but internally…4 now…

-wishes he could get over himself and kiss you all over when you shyly present a little plush toy you won at a claw game he’s RAHHHHH !!!

-for now he’ll stick to “thanks 😒”

sunghoon

-he’s really protective over you me thinks

-but he’ll be really quiet about it, maybe a girl makes you upset and he sees and he’ll “accidentally” knock over her bottled water on her notes, a guy is talking shit about you and sunghoon is squaring up in the courtyard no questions asked

-“sunghoon u dont have to protect me” “it’s not about you” even though it’s totally about you and he will die defending your honor

-one time on your walk out of school a tree branch poked you and u were all like “oh owie : o” and he was following behind before GLARING the shit out of that tree branch…

-another time this guy made a degrading comment about you and sunghoon managed to find receipts on him cheating on his gf and posted it on the school newsletter…cuz he’s silly like that <3

-honestly it’s a little scary the lengths he’ll go for you and still refusing to admit he’s doing it for you

-he’s not really good at comforting you when you cry, so he’ll make sure to protect you from anything that could make you cry

sunoo

-he’ll always listen to you

-if someone said “sunoo can u go grab me a drink from the vending machine” he looks at them like they’re insane but if YOU’RE asking??? he’s sprinting down the hallways

-“it’s literally just because ur lips get all chapped when your dehydrated don’t get an ego,” while he’s handing you like…water purified in Antarctica sourced from glaciers with a little paper umbrella

-even smaller things, he prioritizes your advice

-“guys should I have hot pot or panera for lunch?” and a rando will go, “panera!” and hes dead silent but you go “oh you should totally get hot pot!!” and he’s basically booking a reservation

-probably “accidentally” books a reservation for two and forces you to come since “it’s a waste of table space” if no one else does lol

-also if you don’t like someone he doesn’t like them either

-“sunoo are u friends with Ria?” “shes okay” “she said my makeup looked bad today :(“ and sunoo will act like he dgaf

-but next time you bring her up he scoffs and is all, “why even bother crying about her? she’s not worth your time and she’s annoying anyways” even though he’s never talked to this girl

-tldr ur word > anyone else

jungwon

-always speaks highly of you

-never to your face but he’ll always defend you when necessary, or speak up for you, or just praise you LOL

-“y/n actually scored higher than you, so idk why you’re bragging so loud” to some rando kid talking about test scores lmao

-or “y/n doesn’t like that snack get her another” when your friends are debating how to surprise you

-ur name is always in his mouth but positively LMAO

-brushes it off if you take note of this and says “people are just exaggerating, I barely talk about you, don’t get it twisted >:T” but everyone knows he’ll take any chance he can get to praise you

-“y/n is better tho” and everyone’s like?? who asked??

-it’s endearing but he doesn’t even notice it, he just is proud of you in every shape and form and since he can’t really express it around you he has to project it anywhere else he can hehe

-“jungwon do you think my hair looks okay?” says hee, looking for an actual answer. “y/n’s hair is nicer” responds jungwon, not missing a beat.

-“did you guys know y/n got a 100? isn’t she smart? don’t tell her I said that.”

niki

-does things for you without you asking and then acts like it’s a habit

-it is definitely not a habit for him to run out of his seat to pull out your chair for you, but he insists he literally does it for everyone (he doesnt)

-opens your capped drinks before handing them to you, stops you suddenly to tie your shoelaces, sends you photos of notes if you missed a day..

-“y/n you’d literally be hopeless without me” but he’d be hopeless if anyone else helped you because it’s his job!!

-it makes him feel special when he gets to do so many acts of service for you, for some reason he doesn’t mind running errands or whatnot, he’d much rather he be the one who does it than anyone else

-“y/n u forgot a hair tie today?? ur lucky I brought one” knowing damn well he brought it specifically for you ☹️☹️ cutie

-if the train is full you don’t even have to ask and he’ll let you take his seat “y/n you have weak legs, you need to sit”

-he secretly loves being someone you can rely on, no matter how much he denies it <3

[lust444men]

sorry but I feel like when Hobie is in one of those moods, he'd be the biggest dickhead in bed. You want it slower? He'll go faster. You want it faster? he'll go slower. Don't stop? He's stopped. Coming? He pulled out and ruined your orgasm.

warnings: slightly dom!Hob? x fem!reader, rough, overstim, mocking, teasing, slight dumbification?? idk. ruined orgasm. unprotected sex, use protection, don't be stupid!! oral (f rec). hes abit of a cocky bastard. fink that's it.

(all consensual, hush up!!!)

.•°•.°•.•°.•°.•°.•°.•°.•°.દᵕ̈૩.•°.•°.•°.•.°.•°.•°.•°.•°.•.°•

Hobie roughly pounds into you, his hands leaving a bruising grip on your hips, his eyes connected to his dick slipping in and out of you with ease. He hears your whimpers and whines fill the air, the sound making him impossibly harder. He slows his pace, letting you catch your breath.

"Ay, c'mon, doll. We jus' started. Don' tell me you're givin' up a'ready?" He cooed gently, his hand brushing a piece of hair behind your ear. "I-I'm o-oka-" Your words were cut short when he suddenly slammed back into you, hitting that sweet spot and making you splutter a whimper.

"Yeh? Then take i'." He mumbled roughly, his hand coming back down to your hip, his head now finding itself buried in your neck, placing soft kisses to harsh bites, marking you up. He leaned back up, a smirk gracing his pierced lip as he watches your fucked out expression.

"Wha's wrong, baby?" He asked with faux sympathy.

"S-slower! S'too much!" You mumbled, your hands fumbling to push at his hips. He chuckles lowly, grabbing both your hands in one of his, pushing it above your head.

"Slower, ay? Okay, baby." He whispered, kissing your forehead before smirking and picking up the pace, enjoying the way you writhe and moan beneath him.

"M'gonna come! Fuck- oh fuck. Bee, please." You begged, wriggling your wrists in his hold.

"S'okay, luv. You can come. Come f'me." He cooed, but the second he saw your body tense up and he heard your signature mewl, he pulled out, leaving you empty and ruining your orgasm. You whined, your legs shaking from the aftermath of a sad orgasm, looking up at him with pleading eyes.

"Why did you do that?! let me come." You complained, hating the way his face lit up and he smirked at you.

"Awh, m'sorry, luv. Le' me make i' up ta ya, yeah?" He whispered gently, kissing your temple before going down your body, hooking your legs over his shoulder, kissing his way down your thigh and towards your cunt, enjoying your little breaths and mumbled pleas. He gripped your thighs, the cold metal from his rings a sharp contrast to your skin that feels like it's on fire with every touch he gives you. Finally giving you what you wanted, he swiped his tongue through your folds, switching between soft licks and rough licks to your clit.

"Ohh god. Oh god." You whimpered, your hand tangling in his messy wicks as you tugged, pulling him closer.

"No god, baby. Me." He mumbled against your cunt, before delving back in, one hand sliding off your thigh to join in, two fingers slipping inside you with ease, moving in the same rhythm as his tongue did, immediately bringing you closer.

"Hobie! m'gonna come. m'so close." You said, your eyes meeting his that were already staring at you, a devilish glint in them. The sight alone made you crash head first into your intense orgasm, your head falling back as your hips rocked against Hobie's face. He happily lapped up every last bit of you, not even changing the pace of his fingers or tongue. You came down from your high, mewling softly, the feeling of overstimulation burning into your skin.

"Hob- too much." You said, attempting to roll your hips away from him, only to be yanked back.

"Nah, luv. You said you wan'ed to come, so you're gon' come f'me, yeah?"

.•°•.°•.•°.•°.•°.•°.•°.•°.દᵕ̈૩.•°.•°.•°.•.°.•°.•°.•°.•°.•.°•

I love how I disappear for months, come back for 3 days, write smut about hobie, n dip again. at least its good smut. (I hope it is)

ps. check out my 400 celebration post >> here

[barefoothighlander]

Hi luv! Can you please do some headcanons of ghost having a civilian wife who is an absolute RAY of sunshine, but he keeps the fact that he’s married a secret even from 141. And when they do find out they’re just like??? How??? She’s like so cute???

yes ugh, soft!ghost has my heart, he'd be such a cutie obsessed with his wife, I love this, also obsessed with gossipy Soap and Gaz, they'd be so invested in Ghost's life

warnings: none just fluff

You and Simon had been married 3 years, meeting 5 years ago while he was on leave back home and you were visiting family

You bumped into him on accident after losing all sense of direction on a back street.

He was intrigued because most people are frightened by his outward appearance, but you just smiled at him apologizing profusely.

He had awkwardly asked for your number and you gave it to him, going on a few dates before he fell madly in love with you. Completely enamoured with your smile and personality, always giggling and happy, a stark contrast to how he usually was.

You made him see things in a softer light, constantly dragging him to farmer’s markets and gardens, he followed your every whim, just happy to spend time with you.

He had proposed a year after the two of you became official, deciding he couldn’t go another day without being married to you.

A week after the proposal he had to deploy, it broke his heart to leave you but it made him even more eager to come back to you.

You knew most of what his job consisted of, he spared you the more gory parts as they always made you squeamish. The two of you making it a rule to keep your relationship secret, even from the rest of the team.

After you married he made a point of calling you every day from base just to check in, even though he’d see you right as soon as he got home.

On a particularly difficult mission, Simon had gotten hit in the head, his helmet knocked off and thrown to the dirt, a small piece of paper falling out.

Soap rushed over to him to make sure he was okay, noticing the small paper and grabbing at it as Simon reached to tear it from his hands. It was a photo of you, hair messy from the wind, skin glowing from the sun outside, bright smile plastered on your face as you smiled at your husband behind the camera.

“Lt have’ya a lass,” Soap asked, dodging Ghost’s attempts to retrieve the photo. “Tell me and I’ll give it back”. Sick of Soaps games Ghost submits. “She’s my wife”

Word spread quickly through the team on behalf of Soap’s loudmouth, all the men rushing to question Ghost about his secret relationship.

“No shot you married her, she’s so.. Cute? Smiley? And you’re so” Gaz is cut off by Simon’s dark stare.

All the men pestered Ghost about meeting you as he continued to decline, Price offering a simple ‘congratulations son’

One day you came to base to drop off some gear that Simon forgot at home, immediately greeted by Soap. “No way” he says, stepping towards you with open arms, pulling you into a hug. You hug him back confused. “Sorry, have we met” “No but I’ve heard a lot about you lass”

Simon rushes out of the base practically tearing Soap off you, giving him a warning with a quiet stare as you tug on his jacket, reaching on your toes to lift his mask slightly, planting a kiss to his lips and smiling before handing him the bag of gear which he takes before running a hand softly over your back.

“This is so strange” Soap responds taken aback by the sight of you two, one tall and brooding, face covered by a skull mask and the other a practical ray of sunshine, wearing a long flowing dress that leaves the top of your chest open to the breeze.

“I will say, you’re much prettier in person, the picture doesn’t do justice” “That’ll do” Simon warns as you giggle.

Against Simon’s wishes you invite the team over for a dinner, the weather was too nice to not eat outside as you got to meet each member, learning more about them than Simon would ever tell you.

“I’m sorry it just makes no sense,” Gaz says as you quirk an eyebrow in question. “I just mean you’re so nice, and the Lieutenant is so daunting” you laugh, “trust me, he’s not so scary with the mask off,” He bows his head in embarrassment as you break down his strict facade.

“So what do you two even do? Gasp does Lt cuddle?” Soap asks almost giggling, Simon swears that he could kill Johnny right there. You spare a glance at your husband before meekly nodding in Soap’s direction as he and Gaz are taken in a fit of laughter, you shrug your shoulders in a silent sorry to Simon.

The team made it a tradition to now show up at your home at least once a week to have dinner and some drinks, or just play some board games, intent on getting to know you better, almost punishing Ghost for keeping you a secret.

Cleaning up dinner Simon slides behind you wrapping you in a hug, a small show of affection he had been holding off on while the team was in view. “You’re telling them too much” As he kisses the base of your neck, you turn your body to him, “It’s nice to get to know them, I like seeing you around your friends” he scoffs as the term, then thinks about it shit maybe we are friends.

The time spent after at work Simon was constantly pestered about when he’d make Price and Soap uncles while Gaz had proclaimed himself as your future child’s fairy godmother.

Simon grew tired of the constant interrogation but felt like a weight was off his chest finally being able to be open about your relationship, though he’d never let the team hear the pet names you call him in private, nor would he let them in on the more tender moments of your time spent together.

The team always telling him that he was nicer when you visited or called him, always nagging to see pictures of the two of you (there were barely any, maybe one where he didn't have his mask on but it was kept secure in the house), and wanting to know when you'd visit.

Ghost was relieved that the team was so nice to you, he'd kill them for even saying a bad word, but he wasn't surprised given your ability to get along with almost everyone, always stopping to say good morning to people on the streets.

They teased him for days after you dropped him off some lunch one time, he had acted angry but he loved the domesticity of your lives, he loved seeing you in his office, a bright figure in such a beige world, he couldn't help the smile that crept on his face at the mere thought of you.

So the two of you welcomed the team into your lives, enjoying the company after living rather solitary. Spilling secrets with Soap and Gaz as Price and Simon looked on, Price with a small smirk on his face, happy that Simon finally found the love he deserved, while Simon sat unamused at Soap's jokes.

[seraphdreams]

"WHAT DO YOU WANT?"

"TO SEE WHAT YOUR INSIDES LOOK LIKE." | GHOSTFACE!ARMIN ARLERT.

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 — word count. 4.6k

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 — cw. fem!reader, smut, modern au, mentions of murder / death / blood, fingering, armin’s a creep, symbolism, noncon/dubcon, insanity, manipulation, monomania, creampie, knives, stalking. mdni <3.

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 — synopsis. armin’s worked hard to build up his perfect life, and he certainly wasn’t expecting for someone to rip that from under him. he’s obsessed — with a life that isn’t his.

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 — dolled up! we are sooo back n in full swing for kinktober this year !! i’ll drop my masterlist here for all the prettie dolls to check out … please show this some love by reblogging / sharing, it’ll mean the absolute world 2 me !! kk, luv ya, bye ♡

Armin Arlert. Age 23. Graduated from Shiganshina University.

Armin Arlert, starting his new life under a freshly installed roof that rivaled his dorm of the past four years and provided him with much needed privacy. Armin Arlert, with a degree in humanitarian affairs accompanied with a promising future ahead, it’s the life he deserved after the turbulent destruction that was his tragic past. He could start over now in high hopes of making a name for himself in this unfamiliar city. Nothing could stop him, or the unperturbed spout of elation percolating within.

Aside from optimism, though, he remained undoubtedly sure that the life he had curated for himself was one that no other could outclass. He was smart — spent his days in libraries, in his study room, reading about anything that satiated his appetite for enlightenment, and be that as it may, he wasn’t looking for a lover. His solace brought him far better pleasure than any person could possibly imagine.

He’d work, research, and then work some more, day in and day out. And the day of your meeting was no different.

He had decided to utilize the time he carved out of his restless schedule for a much needed re-read of his favorite book. Moments like these were significant to Armin; the pungent aroma of freshly brewed tea in his mug, luminescence dim in the apartment, and a faint timbre of violins that spilled from his speaker.

Moments like these were when he couldn’t keep track of how many hours had passed him by as he flipped page by page into whatever universe his books had drawn him into.

Rested against the kitchen counter with his novel in one hand and retrieving a sip from his beverage in the other, his eyes scanned the piece of literature. Every once and awhile, he’d shift his weight from his left hip to the right, or opt to sit on the cozy loveseat in his study. All without withdrawing his attention from his book.

Glasses low on the bridge of his nose, he gently pushed them up — Then it came. The sonority of his doorbell, jostling him out of his serene thoughts and the inquisitiveness that flowed through his veins soon after, urged his body to tread to the front door in search of the cause.

As his footfall led him closer to the handle of the door, he could make out a silhouette, seemingly of a woman. All inquisitions of who could be at his doorstep were fulfilled once he opened it and you stood, with a bright smile on your face.

Armin’s angelic features hidden underneath a veil of golden blond tresses accentuated his soft, azure-hued eyes. His face was one of few that aided you in comfort just upon first glance, which chased away the unease of the possibility that he could’ve been ill-tempered.

“Hi, I’m Y/N! I moved in next door,” You pointed your thumb in the direction beside you as if to signal which side of the building you’d be occupying. “I just thought I'd introduce myself,”

He matched your syrupy sweet beam with one of his own, the corners of his eyes turning upward in tandem as if they were smiling too. He held the door open slightly wider to catch a better glimpse of you. From your attire, he could discern that you weren’t much of a modest girl, but it’d be wrong of him to idly make assumptions. Especially when his choice of dress during the lax hours of the day were a white button-up, cashmere cardigan thrown atop, with a pair of tan slacks.

“Y/N?” He repeated, in a manner to affirm that he had heard correctly. “I’m Armin. It’s nice to meet you,”

He would’ve held his hand out for yours had it not been engaged by his book. You weren’t trying to pry, yet the cover of the story was lucid in your mind once you took notice. “Berenice? The Edgar Allan Poe novel?”

His eyes trailed to where your manicured nail was pointed. The rosy flush of his cheeks deepened while he rubbed away the discomfiture stirring at the back of his neck. Once again, he had mindlessly brought his book with him wherever he strode.

“Y-Yeah, It’s my favorite. Have you read it?”

“A few times,” You hummed, meeting his sheepish gaze. “It’s so jarring, right?”

Armin skimmed over your face before allowing himself to speak. “But there’s beauty in the madness,” His words trolled over in a more weighty tone than he had intended, an apologetic smile on his face once he caught wind.

“Or at least that’s how i interpret it,”

His outward timidity roused an endearing chuckle from you. “I truly don’t mean to bother you, though. If you need anything I'm on your right!” You retort with a vague inclination of haste.

Truth be told, Armin’s interest in you piqued with the mention of the Poe story. “Oh, you’re not a bother-”

His vocables fell short against your own when you waved him goodbye, and he mirrored your actions with cordiality in his eyes.

Maybe she’s just busy.

—

Ever since Armin’s first encounter with you, he had found himself taking a rather atypical interest in the relations of you. The first bout of instances being regular events of curiosity where he’d watch as the moving company aided you in getting your belongings settled; hauling in furniture and appliances, all while Armin remained under the guise of checking his mailbox. Over a short span of time, though, he found himself increasingly knowledgeable in the subject that was you.

You showered at 8:00pm. You ate dinner at 7:00pm. The alarm settled on your desk, a few feet beyond your bed would go off at 6:00am sharp, and he’d be up at that same dawning hour to anticipate your departure to work.

He knew these things. Of course, he did.

He memorized all of your schedules to calculate what you’d be doing throughout the day, and where.

His own work was slow for him during those days, and books didn’t seem to capture that spark of exhilaration like you did. For once, he felt enthralled by each day granting him an opportunity to analyze you further.

On another day, he’d built up enough confidence to observe you as you came home from work, once more, under the false assumption that he’d been checking his mail.

“Good afternoon.”

Armin’s voice registered within your being quickly, startling you out of your fast-paced strut to your door. “Oh, good afternoon!” Your footfall faltered until you reached a close. “Armin, was it?”

Over Armin’s time of stalking- no, studying you, he’d come to realize just how ethereal you were. It was as if the deities above handmade every feature on your face, curve of your body, lilt in your voice with the intention of making you one of their own — an angel.

He found you charming.

With a nod of his head, he braced himself to inch toward you. Not proximal enough to cause you discomfort, he wouldn’t want that, yet enough to signal his unwavering immersion. “Did you just come from work?”

It was otiose of him to ask the question seeing as he undeniably knew the answer. Judging from your business attire and pencil skirt just a little too short for any other establishment’s dress standards, he had assumed you worked a kushy job at an office firm. You evidently earned a heap of money, with him recalling the numerous occasions you’d come home with luxury shopping bags hanging off your arms, tied in with the fact that the suites he inhabited weren't exactly affordable for the average person.

You responded hospitably to his question, that same lovely smile poured over your features and seeping into his personage. “Mhm, and what about you? Your work?”

He was surprised at your need to pull the conversation along further, it was as if you were succoring to curate his plans, as if you could read his mind and pick out from a haystack that you were his only interest, you were his source of bliss. A serendipitous moment, indeed. He straightened himself up, clearing his throat. “Me? Oh, well I just help out at charities and organizations from time to time,”

He’d be a fool to deny the set of wide eyes that were fixated upon his figure.

“For real? You must be a really good person then.” You responded with your hands clasped together and held against your chest, pupils of your eyes glittered in a sense of unshakable admiration.

As the conversation went on, you had begun to synonimize your neighbor with the fresh, and comforting feeling of congeniality. It helped that he was easy to converse with, seeming as he’d always been listening while keeping eye contact and rewiring his queries in a way that deemed you the main focus, and he, a vessel for your words to absorb within.

For Armin, he enjoyed getting to know you. You were perfect, in all the best ways.

And soon enough, through an exhausting series of prying inquiries, he’d piece together that your perfection wasn’t hulled along by determination or strong will, but by God’s good grace. He’d come to register that you didn’t have to struggle like he did to reach the triumphant point in life for which he stood. You were born that way, born with a silver spoon in your mouth and just the right kiss-ass people in your life to keep you that way. A spoiled fucking brat.

What had been the rationale behind his suffering? The years in which he’d been bullied repeatedly in public schools, had acquaintances that had only cared about him for their personal gain, and parents so utterly vapid that they’d give up their only child if it meant they could continue working towards an unattainable goal?

Fueled by a sense of jealousy, he waned your nepotism a hindrance. You were merely a telescope that he wanted so badly to see into.

For Armin was obsessed with a life that wasn’t his.

Meticulously, he had spent his time after that hidden away within his flat. Armin didn’t care to know anything more about you, he didn’t care to see your face, and he surely didn’t care for you.

When he stumbled across an unkempt, unpacked box in his room with the label of “Uni 2019,” written on the side in thick, inky letters, his concern led him to relive those memories upon removing the cardboard lid.

In it, there were polaroid photos, compact trophies he’d won from participating in school events, courtesy of his STEM minor, and a dark piece of fabric that caught his eye more than anything.

He recalled his first year of college where his two closest friends, Eren and Mikasa, dragged him out of their stuffy shared dorm and onto one of the first parties held by the school’s fraternity house during the fall semester.

“Armin, you look ridiculous,”

Mikasa said as she stomped away in her leather boots, leading the way for the two men accompanying her to follow her off-campus.

She was dressed in homage to Misa Amane from her favorite anime, although the style of dress aided no significance since it was hauntingly similar to her everyday wardrobe.

Eren was intended to show up as “Light” but he insisted on wearing something he deemed appealing, his plan was to get initiated by the end of the night, anyhow. He wore a deep black cloak, dark ripped jeans and had his hair tied aimlessly into his warped perception of a bun, with the mask of a ghost facing sideways on his head to allow for him to see.

Ghostface. Scream (1996).

Armin allowed himself to be pulled away by the Ackerman, his rebuttal falling on deaf ears. “You didn’t give me enough time, Mika. This is all I could come up with.” Armin’s poor excuse for a costume was tissue paper wrapped around his frame in stereotypical mummy fashion, a classic of all classics.

Though, that night had concluded like any other gathering involving college-aged students, the trio having woken up to hangovers and bad decisions.

Armin stared at the contents of the box a while longer before taking the cloak out and trying it on for size. Obviously, it was meant for a taller person, but regardless, the wheels in his head gradually spun.

He took it off after careful observation when the sensation of juvenility filled his veins. He wasn’t fond of the costume rousing the impression that he was an illegitimate killer — He knew more than he let on, and his passion for the grotesqueries scribed in his books further proved that.

Concurrently, you had been pondering the reason for Armin’s disappearance. After your last conversation with him, he’d stopped formulating ways to talk to you and seemed to never leave his suite, and your heart yearned for his presence once the feeling truly settled in.

You had been swayed by his charm.

His dulcet tone of voice, the intriguing quirks that seemed to hang off of him like leaves to a tree; You missed the way he cared for you, through mundane matters and the like.

Night had fallen, the warm, ochre hues of the day meshing in perfect balance with deep purple tones that signified time’s passing. You were settling into bed, just about ready to fall into slumber when you heard light tapping at your door.

Only for a second did the thought of who could possibly be up this late float through your mind.

Your soles kissed the floor when you made your way to the front door. And once you finally opened it, the sight of your worst fear was drawn to life — The deviant sight of the unknown, with what seemed to look like a kitchen knife in its right hand.

Quickly, without time to react, you attempted to slam the door shut with the force of your shoulder but the action proved futile when the aggressor’s strength pushed back against the wood, sending you stumbling backwards and vulnerable to any attack.

Heavy footsteps creeped eerily towards you out of something from a horror film. Your worst mistake was turning your back, scrambling for a way to retrieve your phone, or even a weapon.

“Help! He-”

The stranger was more agile than you had assumed, easily capturing you with one arm around your waist and its hand cupped against your mouth. You couldn’t shake the terror growing within you as hot tears seemed to spill down your cheeks and your heartbeat so intense, you were sure that it’d had been noticeable.

Your body soft in the assaulter’s touch, they embraced your body taut. The sensation was suffocating, your eyes squeezed shut to further distance yourself from the situation at hand, even if it was only a mental trick.

You resided in a relatively safe area, so why were you in this situation? What cruel joke were you the target of?

The grip on your body loosened ever so slightly, yet you were still fixed in place by the attacker’s opposite hand. While your body was immobilized, you felt the lingering of metal lightly drag against your abdomen to find itself settled just underneath the band of your lace pajamas.

Just moments prior, you had completed your elaborate nightly routine consisting of a glass of wine, face mask, and a warm bath. You also found it fitting to change into one of your newer pajama sets — Thin, baby pink, lace bralette with matching shorts that called for forgoing the need for panties.

All you wanted was to wake up from this nightmare.

“It’d be so beautiful if you died right here in my arms,” Your assailant spoke.

Through your ears, his voice was familiar. A tone so soft, you refused to believe the possibility of who it’s owner could be.

His hand over your mouth was hesitant to situate itself elsewhere in wariness of how you’d react. He was aware of the power behind a blood-curdling scream. The neighbors in this area were nosy. He would know.

He let out a sigh. “But you look really pretty tonight. I wouldn’t want to get blood on you,” His knife trailed further into your shorts, the edge cutting out a hole in the fabric at the seat of the garment.

“Did you do all this for me?”

You winced when the sonority of cloth ripping resonated through your ears. The blade felt dangerously close, running along your body as if to taunt you. That had to be the case; You were in the perfect position to be harmed, so why hadn’t your attacker done so? With your body stricken from fear, his job was easy. Was it not?

The hand over your mouth moved to caress your face and you gasped heavily for the air you were denied.

“W-What do you want?” Your voice echoed shakily throughout the room, barely audible enough for the two of you to hear. His knife inched upward to your sternum, and slowly dragged itself back down to your abdomen as he spoke.

“To see what your insides look like.”

For a split second, his hold on you seemed to diminish, granting you the perfect opportunity to run. Yet, your legs felt frail as if there were weights tied to your ankles. The assailant quickly repositioned himself in front of you, his head tilting slightly while he continued his up and down ministrations with the edge of the blade gingerly pressed against your flesh. Not forceful enough to draw blood.

“But maybe now, I want to feel your insides,” His steps crept closer, and instinctively you tried to create as much distance as possible by stepping back. It proved useless when your back hit the cold surface of the door, his face mere centimeters from yours.

Your breath hitched as you found comfort in the presence of the door, leaning against it as if it’d keep you from harm’s reach. You fidgeted, fumbling to grasp at the handle that’d grant you escape. The masked man took notice, hovering over your frame to keep you from trying anything.

“Please- -” Your plea fell in the form of a choked up whimper, just the sound he wanted to hear.

More uncomfortable ripping was sounded when his blade etched a perfect cut in your shorts, leaving your bare cunt out on display for his eyes to see. “Don’t be shy, pretty. I’m sure lots of guys have seen you like this. Am I right?”

Crudeness started to sink in as your face morphed into a contradictory pout. He took your expression for a no and chuckled genuinely, albeit louder than his previous tone. “No? Does this make me the first?” His eyes scanned your lower half once more, then flit back to meet your fear-blown orbs.

“I’d really love to be your first,”

Having grown confident enough to be sure that you wouldn’t try to break free, he dropped the knife to the side, metal clamorously clinking against hardwood flooring while he used his free hand to lift your right leg over the juncture of his elbow. He carefully slotted his middle and ring fingers into your hole, shallowly pumping. Your legs threatened to close with what you couldn’t make of embarrassment or denial.

Your mind felt cloudy once your body gave up its immobility and allowed pleasure to course through your veins, heat rushing to your core with every pump of his fingers. He took notice of the way your expression hastily contorted into one of pure pleasure, eyebrows knit together and your mouth slightly agape, eliciting quiet moans to tumble past.

It was a whorish sight, indeed. A circumstance you couldn’t control with your death at the forefront, yet it was terrifyingly easy to succumb to the euphoric sensation building up within you. The pad of his thumb found its way to your aching clit, and from just the light circling motions in tandem with his fingers, you felt yourself floating to the cusp of release.

“F-Fuck- -“ you rasped. Your hand reached out for his wrist to push him away but the attempt was futile and in turn, he sped up his ministrations.

“Didn’t know you had such a dirty mouth. You’re making me lose interest.” He coyly teased.

He was thankful you couldn’t see how flushed his face appeared under the mask. The sight of you spread open for him was too much to bear, he could cum in that moment without ever feeling your gummy walls wrapped around his painstakingly hard cock.

Just before you were about to hit your orgasm, he pulled his fingers away. An agitated groan rumbled from your throat, eyes finally opening to the sight of the man before you, removing his mask and unveiling his true identity.

Something within you didn’t want to admit what you had seen.

From the golden strands of hair that shimmered against the moonlight to his cyan-hued orbs tinted dark with madness. It was Armin, but it wasn’t Armin.

“M-Min.. You —“ The words failed to leave your mouth in a coherent string of sentences. It couldn’t have been your neighbor, not Armin. He was far too delicate, too feeble to carry out a task like this.

He kept unwavering eye contact with you, your pupils shaking from shock. “Hm? Couldn’t see a thing with this mask on,” His response was that of nonchalance, his hand coming to caress your tear-stained cheeks.

“You’re much prettier behind the mesh.”

He pulled down the zipper of his slacks along with the garment itself and his briefs, just enough so that his cock was freed. You didn’t want to look, but you did. You notice how bulbous the head was, glowing a bright pink while the rest of it was pretty girthy as well. It bobbed under its weight, the strings of precum leaking onto your inner thighs as he lined it up with your entrance.

“Why would y—“

Just before you could get the vocables out, he pushed his entire length inside of you, head tilted back and adam’s apple bouncing with each groan he let out. You felt as though you were being split open by how fat his cock was, how it glided effortlessly in and out of your heat.

His pace was tauntingly slow as if he’d shoot his load prematurely. Once he gradually thrusted more vigorously though, you found it hard to keep whimpers at bay. Each push in felt deeper than the last, the wind within your system struggling to keep you afloat. You reached for something to hold onto, scrambling for Armin’s shoulders in the end. Your nails dug deep at the lean muscles of his back, creating raw, catlike scratches on the flesh.

The pain was enough to make him smile. Or maybe it wasn’t the pain, but the sight of you so desperate for him — So desperate for your killer.

How pathetic.

He leaned himself upward to meet your gaze again, that of something from a horror movie, his gaze was darker than before, strung together by a serious expression. “Kiss me.”

You almost didn’t hear him as your impending orgasm was your only focus. When you took too long to respond, he glanced back at the knife settled just underneath his foot, in a manner to remind you of the real dangers he was capable of.

With the slightest inclination of hesitancy, your lips met his. Contrary to his actions, his kisses were soft, sloppy, and hungry, as if he were craving you. He hooked his arms beneath your knees to hoist you up and against him.

Deeper. You whimpered into his kisses wondering how his cock fucked into you deeper. He slammed your body down onto his length, using your body like it was a toy. You pulled away from the kiss, heaving for air as your head fell upon his shoulder. “Gonna cum, ‘m so close!” Your words slurred, and before you knew it, your essence came in waves, each aftershock more jolting than the last.

He continued pounding into you, shifting his position to hold you up against the wall. Your pleasure reverberated in the form of an inaudible cry while you allowed for the bullying of his cock in your cunt. It was evident to you that he was close from the way his features were etched in pure ecstasy.

Armin looked pretty like that — Wisps of tawny bangs messily splayed across his forehead from perspiration and a light tinge of scarlet dusted across his nose and cheeks, up to the tips of his ears. His soft, rosy lips were slickened with the mixture of your wet kiss and his.

“Oh, God-”

The guttural groan he let out had your walls clamping down taut around him. “Cum for me again—Shit! Say my name,”

The stamina he retained came as unexpected to you, your overstimulated heat trying to find pleasure in the way it’s being battered up. He spoke again, this time with a docile lilt in his tone.

“Tell me you’re mine, Y/N. I wanna be yours.”

You didn’t want to. You were beyond opposed to feeding into his hedonistic delusions, especially in the impuissant state that you were in. Yet, you couldn’t stop the affirmations from flowing once another orgasmic high coiled up in your core.

“Armin! ‘M yours! All yours,”

Just as soon as your words circulated through his mind, he felt his balls tighten, his thrusts faltering in potency as he reached closer to his high.

In his mind, it was profoundly amorous that you both had hit euphoria simultaneously, warm ropes of his sticky seed painting your walls while he shallowly jettisoned every last drop. Your womb was the goal, and he had scored.

He was tentative to pull out, wanting to relish in the warmth of your core for as long as he possibly could but he knew the idea wouldn’t be feasible. “You’re so good. I mean, you listen so well,”

He delicately placed you back on your feet, your body lax in his hold. “Thank you!” He beamed, tilting your head upwards to meet his gaze.

“Thank you for what?” You responded, your eyes searching for anything else to focus on as you gained enough strength to separate yourself from him, even if it was just a few inches.

“You helped me,”

You couldn’t make sense of the nonsense coming out of his mouth nor his need to be a hair's breadth away from you at all times.

“You helped me realize I never wanted to hurt you,” His hands found their place at your waist, softly running along the curve. “I just wanted to be inside you.”

“No, you wanted to kill me.” You spoke in a more conflicted tone, wondering if the gears in his head were turning at all. He chuckled, creating a few inches of distance between the two of you.

“I mean, I did at first. I was jealous, Y/N,” His voice sounded like that of a beg. “You have such a perfect life and I want it — I want to be in it.”

You couldn’t bear to listen to anymore of his twisted thoughts, feeling the heavy coat of uncomfortability weighing your shoulders down. “Armin, you’re crazy.”

“I love you, Y/N. Let me into your life, please?”

He pulled you into a tight embrace, his hands furthering south until they halted at the small of your back.

“I won’t hurt you,”

“I love you.”

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 — @valentinevampyr @oneofthesevensins @iamtrashgod @iconicbabii @inusdoll @kloesklarity @bakuhoe-3 @antistellxr

[unluckilyimnot]

it’s summer were I live so everyone’s wearing two pieces and was thinking maybe what’s Rin, Isagi, Nagi and whoever else’s you want, seeing there girlfriend/ s/o in a bikini <3

no pressure ofc! And thx if you do it! Luv your stuff <33

seeing their s/o in bikini - i.rin, i.yoichi, n.seishiro, i.sae, k.tabito

m.list I rules

note: hiii thank you sm for your request ! i hope i did it well hihi

i'm rather busy lately and for the coming week as well so i'll take some time to do the requests you guys sent but i'll do it !

Itoshi Rin 

he’s normal about it (no)

he likes the beach a lot as well, so it’s only normal for him to plane date there - even more during summer 

like you could have a small picnic before enjoying the water 

he only saw you in one piece until now so the second you take off your shirt and he saw more skin he panic

but only inside

outside he’s there, taking a look, he nods and tells you something like “i’ve never seen this one, it’s new ?” and you proceed to explain him where you get it and who was with you

the tip of his ears is red but he blames it on the heat and the sun - you’ll never catch him confessing he's flustered 

he’s always been playful but suddenly holding a lot more 

he likes it a lot, he can’t help it but looking at you head to toes a few times when you're not looking 

but he's the jealous type so he’s making sure to cover you with a timid smile if he see anyone looking a little too much in your way 

Hates it honestly when it happens but you're head order heel for him and it shows so it's fine 

Isagi Yoichi

he’s a pool guy and here to play 

aquatic park are his fav and ofc he has to take you with him

He's a blushing mess when he sees you after changing up 

He doesn't know where to look he's scared to offense you 

He wants to be respectful, you're just too pretty for him to not look for time to time

He stutters a lot when he talks to you at first, which makes you chuckles a lot 

But he quickly get over it and just tell you a thousand times how pretty you are

He's just sweet and tell you how the color suit you or things like that

Nagi Seishiro

reo must have a pool lol

He just stay sitting by and watch you two play and swim 

Mostly you bc it doesn't happens a lot 

He's quiet I think, just checking you out and taking note that you have scars or stretch marks here and there

He wants to poke you so if you decide to take a break next to him, he'll poke your side and shoulder 

He compliments you as if it's nothing, kinda implying how much he watched like “the shape is nice” referring to your chest 

You can pull him into the water after that, he knows it will happen 

But he's ready to start a fight then but honestly he'll blush the second your chest is comes near him 

He likes it just so he can hug you to be honest 

He almost drown you by accident with his weight 

He's relatively simple minded (I love him)

Itoshi Sae

it happens quickly in your relationship honestly he loves the sea too much 

He's, in fact, normal about it 

But he has to admit that he likes it and it suits you well hihi

He's just a girl 

He's probably more annoying about wearing your sunscreen correctly 

He gladly helps to rub it on your back 

He enjoys the view - probably blush a little when you're not looking as well 

He side eyes people around, even kids (in a playful way obviously) 

He lies the two pieces but he's only looking at your butt keys be honest 

Karasu Tabito

He get the privilege to help you choose one for a future afternoon with your friends 

Act fool ™ 

He even get to select some that he liked before you try it on 

He tries to not stare too much and just be helpful 

The tip of his ears are probably red on the first few one that you tried 

If he'll be honest, he would say he likes them all 

But he also know how you feel about your body and tries to be more critical so you won't feel insecure 

In the end he honestly wants to go with you at the pool or on the beach one day just to enjoy it as well 

Respectful king in the end 

I hope you liked it !

[chososdiscordkitten]

Obsessive!Choso♡ pt4

pt 3 here content: Choso follows reader, finds ur house on Zillow, screen records ft, has a shrine for u, reader is slowly developing feelings for Choso, I mean who wouldn't? mentions of reader not having family, he doesn't know that he's a stalker, just thinks he's being nice, MENTIONS of choso scared someone will kidnap reader, the word assault is used once.

(a.n) ahhhh omg I luv him so much, I wrote this while listening to 'Mascara-Deftones'

taglist: @leafanight @tfamidoingwithmylife @sunaumei @adanfore @tojisworm-5 @bblgumfairy

Obsessive!Choso who was sitting peacefully in class, turning his head anytime he heard the doors open, in case it was you. But when you actually walked in, he didn't hear you.

Obsessive!Choso who shuddered when he got a hint of your perfume, almost feeling your presence. “Hi.” you said, earning him to jump slightly and turn his head to look at you. Looking down to where you usually sat- seeing your ‘friend’ was there. “Could I sit here?” You asked, hand pulling the chair out before he said yes. ‘You came to the same conclusion, didn’t you’ silence filling the air as Choso slightly leaned away from you- being able to feel the warmth radiating from your body to his. Being able to smell your shampoo. This was too close, you were too close. 

Obsessive!Choso whose shoulders were stiff for the first 20 minutes of class, wanting to talk to you, but not finding the words. Not wanting to speak up, just for his voice to crack from his nerves. Not even having the guts to look over at you- this was torture. So used to looking at you for the entire lecture, being forced to actually try to pay attention to what was being taught. Hearing a quiet rip coming from your notebook, moving his eyes to see you writing. 

Obsessive!Choso who flinched when he felt you elbow his arm, the first time you had touched him. Your hand passed him a folded up piece of paper. ‘You have to be joking- you really are into me, aren't you?’ he thought, smiling and opening up the paper. ‘how can u see from all the way up here o_o’ he read, looking over at you. Smiling at the small face you drew. ‘I think I’m in love with you.’ he confessed, pressing the paper down and writing. The class was quiet enough to hear a pin drop- Choso assumed that was why you didn't just speak to him. Scribbling onto the paper, rings scratching on the table as he wrote, trying his best not to take up too much space. ‘i squint a lot -.-’ you read, smiling at the small face he drew before writing again. ‘i think i need a magnifying glass- i cant see anything:(’ Choso read. Looking over at you and smiling. Folding the paper and holding it in his hand before he tore at his notebook. ‘i got u 🔍 ’ he replied, drawing a tiny magnifying glass, seeing you struggle not to laugh. Letting out a loud exhale. Various students looking back at you two. Among them, your 'friend'. Who had assumed you were just absent. Furrowing her eyebrows as the rest of the students looked away. ‘thanks, rlly helps.’ you smiled, seeing him place the note into his pocket before going back to your work. 

Obsessive!Choso who stayed after class with you for a few minutes, watching all the students walking out. Talking about when a good time would be to help you study. “Dude? You seriously deserted me?” Your friend asked you, making you turn around to look at her. “Deserted? I sat somewhere else.” You scoffed, Choso could feel the tension in the air between you and your friend. “Yeah, to sit with -Pierce The Veil?” She asked, holding her books close to her chest. ‘Pierce The Veil?’ Choso thought- eyebrows furrowed as he looked up at your friend. “You're being fucking rude, don’t you think?”

Obsessive!Choso who felt his cheeks flush at hearing you defend him. “Whatever- call me when you're over this whole ‘I can change him’ phase.” She sneered, looking at Choso, scoffing before leaving. You turned over at him, a pained look on your face. “Sorry about that-” You started, a small sigh leaving your lips, “She hates anything that's out of her version of normal.” you smiled, seeing Choso exhale with a smile. Easing your embarrassment. “It's fine- I'm used to people being,” he shook his head smiling before looking down, “Fucking rude- As you put it.” He smiled, making you look away from him. ‘I can see you're smiling. You can't hide it. Not from me.’

Obsessive!Choso who kept those two pieces of paper. Putting them in between two strips of tape so they wouldn't fade. Placing them next to your pen and the coffee cup you had taken a drink from, lipstick stain still evident. His collection of things you had touched- or left behind just for him, started to grow. 

Obsessive!Choso who kept thinking about how other people get to see you. Other people perceive you, what if there's more people like that one douche who dared invade your personal space? Who had the audacity to touch you? ‘What if there are people who want to hurt you- like your now, ex friend. What if she wanted to hurt you- to make you regret defending me?’ he thought. The feeling of responsibility was heavy in his chest. Knowing that you couldn't protect yourself- you don't even pay attention to your surroundings! Walking around campus with your earphones in, looking down at your phone. ‘No. I have to protect you. It's my responsibility. As your friend.’

Obsessive!Choso who started following you after class, learning what your classes had. Watching you from a distance while you killed time before your next class, sitting at a table in the large dining hall. Eating a small snack while on your computer. ‘You must live far from campus, that's why you won’t go home right?’ Writing down in a small notebook what class and what time it started. ‘I'm just making sure you're safe. Just in case someone tries something- I will always be here.’ He'd assure himself, drawing the line at following you home. Saying, ‘I'm not a stalker,’ He called your name in his head, as though he was speaking to you, ‘I won't cross that line. I refuse to invade your privacy.’ But something inside of him always told him to do it and get it over with. Afternoons of watching you walk away from the campus, the minute he'd see you turn the corner, he'd almost start hyperventilating. Thinking about all the stories and the news articles of people being kidnapped off the sidewalk in the middle of the day. Closing his eyes and trying to not think about how someone could be taking you away from him right now.  

Obsessive!Choso who heard your voice whisper in his head, asking him if he was just gonna let you be kidnapped. Taunting him in his own mind. Not being able to hear you clearly, trying so hard to focus on what you were saying- only making his ears hurt trying to listen to your whispers. Everytime, he fought off your voice. And everytime he felt guilty for even letting you be exposed to the chance. The chance of being assaulted, of being murdered by someone who was crazy. Someone who was stalking you. Choso hated the thought of someone hurting you, so he had to make sure you were okay. Make sure you get home safe. 

Obsessive!Choso who was walking far behind you, making sure to step lightly so you couldn't hear him. ‘I just want to keep you safe. That's all.’ he kept defending his actions to nobody but himself. Standing behind a tree as he watched you open the door to your house. ‘Not your parents, not a sorority- roommates. You live with roommates.’ he thought before opening his phone and saving the location.

Obsessive!Choso who was on his computer, hunched over as he looked through a walkthrough on Zillow. Wanting to know which one was your bedroom. 

Obsessive!Choso who spend countless nights picturing you in that house. He wanted to know if you were home right now, laying in the dark waiting for him to call you. Taking time to picture you in each bedroom he saw. Wondering what you had on your walls, what bedsheets you had. How many pillows you had on your bed. Closing his eyes and wondering if you had a desk- or a vanity. Scrolling through your feed to scan the walls of your bedroom. Going through the various screenshots from your story and your friends’. 

Obsessive!Choso who found a video your friend had posted in his gallery- of you laying on your back on the floor. Pillow beneath your hands, the quality was bad. It was a video that was posted over and over, taking it from their story on your birthday. Posting it to show their love for you. But from what he could hear- they were laughing at you. Making fun of you. While you asked them if they knew the true meaning of life, clearly on something from the looks of it. Trying to have a decent conversation with these people- only for them to laugh at you. Saying your name in his head, calling for your attention. ‘I would never do that to you. I will never laugh at you when you'd want to have a conversation. I will always listen to your words, no matter how silly they sound.’

Obsessive!Choso who thought that he was the only friend you will ever need. The only classmate you could depend on. Wanting desperately to tell you. Tell you that you don't need to surround yourself with superficial people when you have him. But for now. He will keep his opinions of your life to himself, till the day comes where he becomes a closer friend to you than any of them. 

Obsessive!Choso who was thrown from his thoughts when he saw his phone ring. Your cute contact name making him smile. Answering with a ‘Hello?’ like he didn't look at who was calling. “Hey- it's me.” You smiled, hearing him say hi again. “Are you busy?” you asked, wondering if he had time to help you study. “I'm not, no.” he exhaled, his hand on his knee while he closed his eyes to picture you. “Why?” he asked, feeling more comfortable speaking to you day by day. Closing your eyes, feeling uneasiness in your stomach before asking him. “I was wondering-” you exhaled, your tone telling him that you were smiling. “If you could help me study? If not it’s totally understandable- it's late and you must be tired-” You rambled, making Choso smile at how you were starting to feel nervous speaking to him. “No. I’d be delighted to.” He replied, making your cheeks warm at how polite he was. 

Obsessive!Choso who was starting to feel like he couldn't see you as he did before. It became clear to Choso. The more he sees you, the more he speaks to you. The more you keep flirting with him- the harder it is to see you clearly. Which was becoming more and more difficult, seeing as you never hesitated to ask him if he wanted to tag along with you after class. Or how you didn't ask him if you could call him through text anymore. 

Obsessive!Choso who was surprised when you asked if you could facetime him, muttering while moving the call to your computer. His hands knocked over the cup full of pens that was next to his laptop, quickly sliding his closet door shut, knowing that the angle of his laptop would've given you a clear view of his shrine dedicated to you. Scanning his desk before he pushed a strand of his hair behind his ear. Fixing his shirt before answering. Every time he saw you- he felt like you kept getting more and more beautiful. Even if you didn't have as much makeup on as you did in the day. Smile on your face when you saw him pop up onto your screen, “I can see you!” you exclaimed, your hand going to your mouth to pick at the dry skin to soothe your nerves. Seeing him with his hair down- light traces of the eye makeup he had on earlier. In truth, it was late, too late to be calling a class mate. But you wanted to see if he would answer, if you were tripping when you saw something other than friendship in the way he smiled at you, in the way he looked at you sometimes. Remembering how quiet and unapproachable he was before you had befriended him. Wondering if what you were feeling was something else. Not wanting to ruin a blossoming friendship with a real person, that formed his own thoughts. Not caring if the version he peddled to the masses was unacceptable. 

Obsessive!Choso who knew he didn't want to miss another opportunity, starting a recording on his screen. Even if he wasn't going to be able to hear what you said later- the feeling of knowing that he would be the only one with this video of you, was indescribable. Almost like he was keeping this side of you to himself. 

Obsessive!Choso who made sure to scan the walls of your bedroom, the angle that you had posed the camera was saddening. Only letting him see a small corner of your bedroom. But what he could see was your bed. Messy and not made, ‘If i lived with you- you'd never have to worry about the bed being made. I would always make sure that you'd come home to a welcoming bed waiting for you.’ he thought, hearing you read aloud the professor's comments on an essay you had turned in. “I feel like he's personally targeting me-” You smiled, that was the first time he had a violent thought about someone when it came to you. His eyes widening before trying to forget what he thought of. “What's your grade in the class anyway?” You asked, seeing his eyes glaze over at what you were saying. Not knowing that he was thinking of you, of defending your honor. He looked up, making a feigned thinking face before replying, “B- I think?” he lied. ‘I don't want to lie to you’ he thought, saying your name in his head, ‘I really don't. But I can’t let you see that I am not put together.’

Obsessive!Choso who died inside when you picked up your laptop to move onto your bed, ‘You didn't call me to study- you just wanted to talk to me?’ seeing that you didn't even bring up this so-called studying you asked him to help you with. While moving something- you saw the full print of the shirt he was wearing. “I love that band.” You commented, lifting yourself from the pillow you were resting on. Choso looked down at the shirt he was wearing, smiling at your compliment. “I didn't think that you listened to this kind of music.” He commented, sitting back down to look at you. Dim lights in your bedroom making you look ethereal. “I listen to everything really.” You mumbled, turning to your side, holding your head up in your hand. Moving the computer to face you. “Even country?” He asked, his tone soaked in sarcasm. “God no- But everything else, yeah.” You smiled, seeing him look at the screen with a warm smile.

Obsessive!Choso who let out a choked sigh when you asked what his plans were for winter break. “Goin home-” He exhaled, rubbing his forehead in frustration, remembering that college isn't the only thing in his life, you weren't the only person he cared for. The facetime was fun, talking to you outside of class was fun. Off campus, and it being so late. No valid excuse for wanting to talk with him now, other than just wanting to see him, to hear him. But the thought of winter break was heart shattering. Wanting to see his brothers but not wanting to go so long without seeing you. “And whose home?” You asked, seeing his eyebrows furrow at your past question. “My brothers.” He replied, hoping the conversation would steer elsewhere to stop thinking about this. “Younger or older?” You asked, wanting to know more about him.

Obsessive!Choso who for the first time, you asking about his life made him feel uneasy. The stinging in his chest made him pick at the skin on the sides of his chipped black fingernails. Twitching his head to try and shake off the feeling, “No, I'm the oldest.” He replied, fiddling with his thumbs and looking down, “Ahh I see.” You smiled, he looked down at his hands. A sudden wave of sadness fell over him, “And you? Where are you going for break?” He tried to snap out of the sudden funk. “I'm staying here, no family to go home to.” Your smile dropped, feeling the same as he did, remembering the fact that there was nowhere to call home.

Obsessive!Choso who felt so sad for you, who wanted to ask you what happened, thinking that he wasn't there yet with you. But god, the look on your face. Like you were about to start crying made his heart break for you. “Is it too far to ask what happened?” he mumbled, seeing you look away from the screen. “Just-" You sighed, "Family sucks. But I'd rather stay here. My roommates will all be gone-” You flashed him a toothy smile, trying to ease the tension. ‘Roommates. I knew it.’ he thought, a smile creeping onto his face as the worries of leaving you faded. “The campus will be empty. And I'll finally be able to catch up on my assignments, and the dozens of books I've started but never finished.” You assured him. Choso felt like he was finally able to get to know you, what will happen when he leaves you for three weeks? ‘Should I stay? If you asked me I would. I would stay right here with you.’

Obsessive!Choso who felt his heart thump in his chest, “Choso?” You asked, looking at him for the first time without a smile. “Yes?” He answered, his knee bouncing while seeing you cover your face with your hand. “I feel like a child asking you this-” you smiled, ‘Ask me.’ he smiled, “Could I- call you when you're out of town?” you grimaced, cringing at the words coming out of your mouth. He opened his mouth to speak, but feeling like you had just been caught stealing a cookie from the cookie jar, you elaborated. “I just- I'll miss the uhh-” You looked up, “Refreshing conversations.” You laughed, seeing him let out a choked laugh with you. ‘Call me whenever you want, call me in the middle of the night, sad, happy, sick, for favors, for a laugh. Don't ever hesitate to call me.’ He wanted to say, desperately wanted to tell you to call him all the time. How he would wait by his phone for you to call him. 

Obsessive!Choso who couldn't bring himself to do it. Settling for; “Call me whenever you want. I’ll always answer.” He smiled, seeing you push the camera away from your face, your cheeks warm at how easily that came from his lips. Making Choso realize that his slow attempts at ‘friendship’ were working a little too well on you. “Okay, okay-” You smiled, pointing the camera to your flushed face. “I need to go to bed now.” You sat up, seeing him look at you in a way you haven't seen before, almost with hearts in his eyes. “Okay. Goodnight.” He smiled, deep voice making you want to laugh at how flustered you felt right now. “Goodnight Choso.” You smiled, clicking the red x and closing your laptop. Falling back to your pillows and closing your eyes. 

Obsessive!Choso who almost ran around his apartment, holding back all the blushing laughs and the many comments he thought while on the phone with you, felt like a torture that was perfectly crafted for him. Knowing he was going to rewatch those two hours of your face over and over again. Dissecting every frame and saving them as photos, making one of them his screen saver on his laptop. The past delusion of you possibly, maybe, just maybe, being his. Wasn't a delusion anymore. It was possible now, seeing you blush at his words made him see that. Smiling at the idea that all he's done wasn't in vain, there was an upside to his ‘crush’ on you. Closing his eyes and leaning back on his bed, picturing a day when you'd hold his hand, calling him your boyfriend. That day that was a possibility now. A day he wished would come soon. 

-

pt 5 here

........I have no words🫣 pls let me know if u wanna be tagged- nd make sure i can tag u lmao- ran into some issues while trying to tag accs that had the 'prohibit users from looking me up' on🫠

[ifangirlalot]

AHH I luv Rich w a shy reader 🤭 Could u maybe do him taking shy!readers virginity ahahhsjdhebskfj

˗ˏˋ 𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐄 𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐇𝐘!𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑'𝐒 𝐕𝐈𝐑𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐓𝐘 ˎˊ˗ | starring richie tozier ︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵୨♡୧‿︵‿︵୨♡୧‿︵‿︵୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

~smut!~ [𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘:] mentions of prep fingering, oral (fem receiving) p in v, praising, just soft smut in general, sorry guys no filthy kinky stuff here this time <3

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵୨♡୧‿︵‿︵୨♡୧‿︵‿︵୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵୨♡୧‿︵‿︵୨♡୧‿︵‿︵୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

⋆ ˚｡୨୧˚ I think Richie actually would have took time to think out how he'd have sex with you for the first time, which is a first because Richie barely ever puts thought into anything. But really, that's only because joking about having sex is one thing, but actually doing it is like a different thing entirely.

⋆ ˚｡୨୧˚ Truth be told, Richie was nervous as fuck.

⋆ ˚｡୨୧˚ You're a virgin, he's a virgin, neither of you have ever done anything remotely sexual, so how the hell is he supposed to do this? He'd been talking a big game about how big his cock was for weeks now, what if his dick isn't actually as big as he thought it was?

⋆ ˚｡୨୧˚ Ultimately, he decided the best course of action was to do something romantic to make you feel comfortable. He invited you over when his parents weren't home, and right away you notice that he actually cleaned his room and had done a half decent job at combing his hair (which like, that's fucking pointless cuz like it's gonna end up messy anyways-) ⋆ ˚｡୨୧˚ Richie started off slow, putting his hands on your shoulders while he gave you an oddly sensual kiss. Usually he just kissed you kind of roughly, which usually lead to a French kiss. But not this time. ⋆ ˚｡୨୧˚ When he finally got down to knitty gritty, he was very careful, because he knew how shy and easily anxious you were. He was sure to ask you if certain things were okay before he actually did them, and asked for your preferences beforehand.

"Hey doll, can you touch here?" "Is it okay if I put my hand there?" "Do you want the lights off? It's totally fine if you do, but just so you know you're perfect and I'd love to see if you if you'll let me."

⋆ ˚｡୨୧˚ If you wanted the lights off, he'd respect your wishes immediately and flick them off. His breath would hitch as you slowly allowed him to take your clothes off, one piece at a time. His mouth would greedily yet slowly trail kisses along your stomach and breasts while his hands stroked and rubbed at your thighs. ⋆ ˚｡୨୧˚ He'd make sure to meet your eyes for consent as his hands ran up your thighs and thumbed at the button of your shorts. As soon as you nodded, Richie would eagerly unbutton and unzip them, tugging them down your legs in a slow, yet clearly excited gesture.

⋆ ˚｡୨୧˚ He would place a kiss over your panties before pulling them down as well and gently lapping his tongue over your clit, eliciting a moan from you. He wasn't entirely sure what he was doing? But based on the noises you were making, he assumed that was a good thing and continued with it for a few more minutes before slowly pulling his mouth away, his lips swollen and wet from your juices, before slowly inserting a digit or two between your folds to prepare you.

⋆ ˚｡୨୧˚ Richie would carefully watch your face, see the redness on your cheeks as you anxiously glanced at his bedroom door as though you were afraid someone would hear the lewd sounds and suspect what you and Richie were up to.

⋆ ˚｡୨୧˚ He was quick to assure you.

"Hey, babydoll, just focus on me, okay? My parents are out, no one will hear you I promise. Just me, baby. Don't worry your pretty little head about it. All good, I swear."

⋆ ˚｡୨୧˚ When he was finished prepping you with his fingers, he slowly undressed himself and removed his glasses with shaky hands. He took his time rolling a condom onto his length. He told himself it was so you had time to prepare, but really it was because he was nervous as all hell.

⋆ ˚｡୨୧˚ Soft, gentle strokes the whole time. His eyes are crinkled in pleasure while he breathes heavily and moans shakily. He's barely able to think straight, but he manages to ask how you're doing.

"Are you.. fuck, oh God oh fuck yeah.. you okay, baby?"

⋆ ˚｡୨୧˚ When you're both finished, expect Richie to be all over you, in the cuddly, I wanna spend the rest of my life with you, kinda way. After your first time, he'd be more protective over you, mostly because he feels more connected to you than he's ever felt.

[A Note From Zee] So, I'mma take a bit of a break on taking requests (since my inbox has like five more I have to answer, which I will get to I promise), but I have some ideas I wanna do first, thank you. My next post is probably going to be a Yandere Alphabet post since I saw someone else do it and decided I wanted to do it so. Look forward to that.

[blueparadis]

❝ HAUNTED ❞ + XAVIER THORPE !

+. CWs —» f!reader, switch!reader, outcast!reader, fluff, she/her pronouns, mutual pining, sexual tension, family drama, flirting, manipulation, mentions of abuse, blood, wounds & therapy, flashbacks in italics, supernatural themes ; explicit smut, s & d dynamics, bottom-dom!xavier, cowgirl position; word count-3.5k

+. PRECIS —» Xavier Thorpe has finally found the girl of his dreams after being haunted by her.

+. NOTES —» this is for my beloved sister @zoraedits ’s brainrot contribution.she won't stop making edits on him. && I'm tagging @orchid3a cuz i luv u

you can browse more of my works here. || also available in AO(III). reblogs and comments are very much appreciated.

feel free to send in thirsts and suggestions for this show, Wednesday. This is my first time writing for shows like this; my main fandom spectrum is animanga but I do hope this was a good read for ya’all as much as I enjoyed writing it. <3.

The table calendar was full of red inks all over, dirt sedimented on the sketchbook, and the pencils laid in the case in absolute solitude. Xavier looked at the calendar kept on his desk near his bed in all despondency and a heavy sigh escaped from his lips. It has been days since he stepped into his studio, have not touched his art accessories for almost a month. One thing was for sure, he was plagued by visions in his dreams but this time it was nothing demising. 

This time his sketchbooks were not filled by a monster, this time he was not afraid to draw rather he was drawn to it; part of him was stoked while sketching while a part of him was reluctant to draw the whole picture. He had spent countless sleepless nights before, not resorting to sleeping as he was threatened by nightmares. And now his sleep was peaceful as if entering into the realm of dreamland.

Xavier was sure that his mind was captured by a girl who came to visit him in his sleep, never showing her face, only showing herself in bits and pieces. He had spent his childhood receiving showers of praise for his talent for drawing but the origin was never happy. Of course, he enjoyed it and liked to show off his talent for art but secretly he wished his power would vanish into oblivion, for it was never pleasant.

People say that the art of someone reflects one’s persona, one’s raw feelings but Xavier always begged to differ since those memories, those incidents were never his. There always had been a wave of remorse that washed over him after he stepped out of his art studio since the praises he received never belonged to him. 

Many were astoundingly taken aback by his knack for drawing and suggested he pursue art, to be a renowned artist but he knew he would lose all the glory once he stopped having those dreams. Moreover, he did not always have such dreams so the possibility of waking up one day and being unable to paint and as a result, staring at a blank canvas scared him to death. Heck! He even considered going to Doctor Kinbott so that his sanity would not be hanging by thread.

For the last couple of weeks, he has been dreaming of odd landscapes. Xavier had never seen them in his life yet he saw how the dusky crimson hue smothered the snowy mountain ranges, how the clouds gathered before the arrival of a rainstorm, how the birds sang songs and all the owes and pangs of nature. One thing he could conclude from those dreams was that whoever it belonged to was a chaser of freedom, that is, was a soarer of the sky.

Xavier had not told anyone about his dreams, nor put them on paper to ease his mind. What would he tell? What would he draw? Last night was particularly odd concerning the regular pattern of his dreams. He dreamt of falling from a high cliff into the water and a broken wing. When he woke up, he was all soaked, even his bed, and his olfactory senses did not miss the subtle scent of stagnant water. He was breathing rashly as if he was the one who drowned as if he was the one to fall.

He closed his eyes and tried to recapitulate his dream, searching for a mark, searching for a recognizable feature, searching for something, anything, anything at all. His desperation knew no bounds when left his dorm and rushed into his studio in the middle of the night since somewhere at the corner of his hopeless heart he knew he found one, a ray of hope.

A lot of crumbled papers surrounded Xavier as he tried accumulating the pieces from his puzzled mind. Around two o’clock he left his studio on his bicycle, the paper where he drew tucked in his pocket. He was sure he had witnessed the scenery before unlike the others.  When he finally reached the top of the highland, he witnessed the view from his most recent dream. 

The only thing that engulfed his presence was the sound of the waterfall echoing through the woods. He noticed a pond nearby and an adjacent high plateau near it. It was higher from where he was standing. After looking around for a few minutes he figured that there was no way to go there unless one swam through the stream or flew toward it.

On his way back, he felt happy, he felt sane. At least he had proof of the existence of a creature that haunted him, even in his wake. Xavier showered before going to bed just to clear his head before a good night's sleep. He kept a white feather as a bookmark in his sketch pad while a smile smothered his face. He was right. He was haunted by a fairy-like creature.

“Two cappuccinos”, Xavier mumbled as he went back to the counter at Weathervane. It was another event where all the students of Nevermore set foot into the world of normies to carry on the ties between two polar opposite worlds. But no matter how much one tried, the other always tried to retaliate. Their relationship was always on a tightrope, it could snap at any moment. And it certainly did.

“And you did not bother to tell me about this. . .”, Principal Weems trailed off as she left her seat, walked past her desk, and inclined against it, “until everyone in town became aware of it.”

“I thought I was going to be called insane or bullied. Last time I told something about my dreams, I found myself behind the bars.”, he responded, keeping his eye on the ground. Principal Weems exhaled grudgingly. She had no grounds to punish this boy since he was not entirely wrong. Hence, Xavier was dismissed with mere detention. 

Xavier was forbidden from the school campus for a week. Everyone felt sorry for him, in his situation but secretly he could not be happier because he had all the time to draw, sketch, paint and think — and it was all about her, y/n. 

That day at the café, Xavier was the sole witness of a crime. It happened so quickly, so fast that all she could do was succumb to her fate. A man was standing near the corner of the kitchen with his back facing Xavier. Xavier was not supposed to be here but he had to fetch some ingredients for making pastries and cupcakes. 

As the man turned around, Xavier saw a bloodied butcher's knife in his hand. Near his feet lay a girl with a bloodied back the blood quickly spread all over her blouse. She stood motionless, like a statue. The eye contact was merely for two seconds and he immediately smashed the sugar jar on his head, distracting him, to tackle her out of the way.

The other townies turned up for help. Not all people in the world came to be cruel and heartless. All Xavier did was contact Principal Weems so that she could swiftly take care of this matter, which she had to otherwise the reputation of the Nevermore Academy would be in danger. The girl was taken to a nearby hospital. 

Y/n L/n was her name. After the untimely death of her parents, she was raised by her uncle, by a normal family. Naturally, when she began to bloom, she was forced to be normal. One would think she tried to run, tried to hide or fight but Alas! none was the case for this matter. She felt indebted to her uncle and his family, for taking care of her, aiding her upbringing, fulfilling the role of parents, and hence helping her to be normal. But Xavier's presence on that day turned her life upside down. She was now a student at Nevermore Academy, funded by Principal Weems’ study forum. 

After you recovered within a week, the first thing that dawned on you was to meet him, Xavier, the ‘ hero ’ of your life. You knocked on the door of his studio and waited for a while. There was no answer for a few minutes and when you finally made up your mind to leave, Xavier showed up. He was in his casuals with a teeth-flashing grin on his face.

“How’re you, y/n? The last time I saw you, you were in a hospital bed and now you’re here. in front of me.”, Xavier danced on his toes as he walked into his studio. You followed him and the moment you stepped into his studio you were taken all in awe. The room was filled with artboards, canvases, and sketch supplies, and everything reflected you. Indeed, y/n did not come here to be thankful for what he did since she was not. She was not happy with how her life seemed so devoid of any family. Her uncle was the last of her family and now he is gone. All because of him, Xavier.

“You look better than the last time I saw you.”, Xavier added as he felt the silence between the two of you deafening. You swallowed hard as he tried to ease the tense ambiance thinking how rude of him to remind you of the very wound he was responsible for. There was a desk with a closed sketch pad that caught your attention. 

“Your drawings are very beautiful.”, you pitched in opening it and your heart dropped at the sight of your feather that was kept safely in between those rusty pages. A short gasp escaped your lips as the whirlwind of your life hit you.

Xavier was standing behind you, close to your shivering body. “They are all about you.”, a low whisper before he extended his hand to remove the veil from the canvas. The cloth dropped at your feet revealing every bit of dreary in you that you always wanted to hide. You hated how he could see through your pangs and pathos, you hated how he could and would have eradicated all of it, even if it meant being burnt by it. You swiftly tackled out of his towering frame, feeling naked even though you were more dressed than him. 

“Stay away from me. You shouldn’t come near me.”, Surprise took Xavier in all proportions. His eyebrows became congested as you continued. “I’m grateful that you saved me but do not do that again, ever.” With that, you walked out of his studio but a firm grip on your wrist kept you from running away anymore.

“Listen, I’m being haunted by you, your pain, your emotions, and everything you feel for the past few months, and all you could say to me was to stay away from you… not even a proper thank you.”, His breath hit your lips as he drew in a sharp breath before his amber eyes landed on you, your shaky lips and pale eyes.

Embarrassment rushed into your cheeks and you pushed him lightly uttering, “Stay away” with a little glare to ward him off but when you vanished out of his sight he was not dejected, not at all. Sure, he was conflicted but the way you told him to stay away whereas your body spoke otherwise made him relish the chase that has haunted him for months now.

They say one can only save people only if one wants to be saved. You neither needed help nor saving but you could see why Xavier begged to differ, wanted to be the odd one out, and craved the crown from saving you from your only family. You always had been a rebel since your childhood, going against the flow of the stream. Somewhere in the corner of your heart, you knew you were different, you would be different. 

It was the end of June when you first felt your body ache, back arch, muscles cramping excruciatingly as if someone was poking needles in your skin. Your arms clung to your body as your back bled for the first time. The wailing of such lethal agony submerged amidst the sound of rain as two enormous wings grew with lustrous hues of carmine and amber. Your breathing became regular again, your body stopped hurting as the wings flapped open involuntarily. Every mark, scar, and wound on your body since you were a child began to heal, all by themselves. 

Everyone rejoiced when you went through the family ritual and stood in front of your clan as the last phoenix of your bloodline. It was a miracle that a phoenix had been born in the bloodline but just like with blessings it came with a massive price. You were a healer and a destroyer at the same time. Somewhere something has to die to keep you alive, again and again. Every time you were wounded or hurt, your mother had to lose some of her life until she became lifeless, forever. But the family oracle told your father that it is a part of the process, part of a phoenix's journey that every one of their loved ones had to sacrifice in one way or another. 

Your father just had a miraculous idea to save you and himself from the bottomless pit of despondency and mutual hatred lurking in his heart because of you. He volunteered to sacrifice himself even if that was against his will. The oracle seemed to be unsure about the idea, saying that the cycle might shorten but not cease. But your father was right, the cycle did cease and you became aware of it when your uncle tried to chop off your wings, uprooting the evil once and for all, and no one in your family was harmed. Still, unfortunately, you were under the radar of an outcast, Xavier Thorpe. ‘What would happen if someone not from your bloodline were to sacrifice? What would happen to your mate if they were not an outcast? What would. . . thoughts would not cease to bombard your mind until a knock disrupted your trail of thoughts.

You lifted your eyes for a glance only to find Xavier inclining against the bookshelf with a saccharine smile on his face. Your stomach turned at the sight of him. ‘How can a person be so forgiving?’ but it seems that he is rather forgetful than forgiving. He picked up a random book from the shelf and sat in front of you.

“You’re hurt. . .”, you murmured to which he responded, “more than you think . . .” while turning the pages of the book and occasionally stealing glances from you. You rolled your eyes and leaned towards the table eyeing his hands that had a lot of scratches. It was probably from a silly fight with other boys, maybe the normies; for him, it was just a scratch yet for you it was an opportunity to apologize for the other day. 

“Give me your hand.” As you extended yours, Xavier's reflexively recoiled under the desk. “I’ve no intention of harming you.”, you uttered touching the palm of his other hand that was still on the desk. “Besides, I’m just clearing my debts.”

“Um-hm.”

You inhaled sharply before you flapped those lustrous enormous wings to heal with him, his wounds. Your wings glowed for almost a minute and the hand that was hurt was healed which he was hiding under the desk. It is impressive how Xavier hurt the very hand that can create masterpieces. What a clutz!  He interlaces his fingers with yours as he murmured, “A touch . . . is all you need.”

You begrudgingly pulled your hand away standing up and yelling whisperingly, “stop it. stop this. . . and don’t come near me.” With that, you grabbed your book and went towards the exit of the library. Xavier sat like a child who would mourn for the broken toy rather than demand anew.

“Wait.”, Xavier followed you. He kept yelling in the middle of the corridor, “Y/n. wait.”

“Your wings.”, you finally turned your head but not without letting out a sigh of annoyance. “You’re hurt. . .bleeding” and that is when fear crawled underneath the skin. 

“I never bleed.”, you retorted.

“And, I never lie.”

If it were someone else, you would have shooed them away. But this was Xavier, who saved you from an inevitable, to whom you owed nothing but the truth. Even though you tried to heal yourself you could not, perhaps because you healed someone and that too for the first time. 

Xavier might be persistent but he was not dull. It didn't take him long to connect the dots and hence you had to do the very thing you wanted to avert from the first place. His room was not tidy but not neat and clean either. With Rowan gone he has the room all to himself. You wanted to go to the infirmary, but there wasn't anyone available. Besides, with all the mess you are in you didn't want to risk it.

“I promise I'll behave.”, he said, swinging his hands up in the air in a form of surrender. That made you smile a little as you turned around so that he could tend to the wound. He unzipped your dress and carefully tucked it along your waistline without harming the feathers. Even though you had your camisole on, you still felt naked. His fingers brushed against your skin. It was ice cold. You had to hold your breath as he dressed the wound. 

Xavier noticed how your shoulder blades had been marked. He grazed his fingers over the part from where your wings grew that made you instantly shriek and move away from him. 

“Are you done?”, you asked, surprise and embarrassment coursing through your skin. Your upper body was barely clad, nothing but an unhooked bra. 

“No.”, and within a blink, his lips were already on yours. You could taste the longing and desperation with each suck. Your hands curled around his nape as his hands got rid of the minimal clothing from your upper body. “First time?”, he asked as he moved away leaving you breathless yet craving for more.

“Why? You care?”, you blurted out stepping out of your dress. Xavier eyed you from up and down. You did not flinch but rather smiled as you noticed his astonished face. You had nothing on but just the underwear. 

“I do.”, one of his eyebrows jumped as he knelt near you. “I don’t wanna hurt you.”, he murmured grabbing your calf muscles and kissing your femininity over the cloth. He took a glance before tucking the hem of the panty in between his fingers and undid it. Your hand reflexively went over his head as he kissed your entrance, lapping over your pussy lips that made you suck in a sharp breath. He sucked on your skin, followed by a feeble bite into your inner thighs. 

“AH!”, you winced pausing his ministrations. “Don’t you taste divine?”, he whispered kissing your lips, wetting them with the blend of his saliva and your slick. He was too dressed. You cocked an eyebrow at him and he took the hint. You co-operated as he became almost naked, and was back up even though you wanted him to continue.

“You won’t hurt me. worry for yourself.”, you said as you felt his hands palming your cheeks a little too long than they should. His hands traveled back to your entrance and you moaned under his slight touch.

“What? Never played with yourself?”, he added that surely turning the cogs in your head. You pushed him onto the bed, sitting on him struggling to take his cock in and he was not even helping. All he did was watch you let out whimpers of frustration as you lazily glided on his cock. He rested himself on his elbows saying, “Look at me.” And as you did, his fingers dig into your plush ass cheeks slowly adjusting you at a proper angle and stretching you. You kissed him so break the eye contact that made you feel naked, even though you were. Both of you jolted as you could feel his cock inside you.

His hands clamped around your waist as you bobbed on him, with greater force and broader strokes but slow. With each sloppy hit you felt his cock twitch inside you; your hands desperately roamed all over your body, heat bubbling as you could feel your body tensing, picking up the pace he was setting you in, and the orgasm lurking underneath. You can tell; a few more strokes and you would cum so easily. 

He can feel it too. Xavier winced as he felt you clenching around his cock. His legs folded to support your back while your hands flew to his shoulder blades, his knuckles turning white, his grip growing stronger around your waist and you came right away, back arching and your wings flapping open involuntarily, eyes rolling white relishing the high as your thighs squeezed in.

With your breathing rash and heavy, you felt all mushy in the head and so was he. Xavier could have sworn that he has not seen anything more beautiful than this, than you sitting on him with his cock buried inside you; your skin glistening in sweat with your gorgeous wings at the display. 

As soon as Xavier’s breath relaxed a bit he pulled you into his embrace for a kiss. He could not help it, you were too beautiful to look at. Besides, he was not done, not yet.

—

by @blueparadis

[cherryredstars]

hi! how u doin? could u pls do some angst hcs for Simon?? like how difficult the relationship is for him and his partner, what they would argue about, how the arguments are and whatnot yk i just luv the way u write him it's perfect♥️💋

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x gn!reader

Warnings: Angst with little comfort

Summary: Struggles with dating Simon

A/N: All the Simon requests in my inbox rn (there are only three) <3

Word Count: 1.5K (Not Edited)

The biggest struggle for you and Simon will always be the time he spends away on deployment. Especially in the beginning of your relationship where insecurity is at an all time high. You always hate when he’s away, the house feeling desolate and cold with his absence. You’re constantly anxious, scared and impatient for the next time he comes through that front door just to leave again. It was even worse when he was gone when something important happened, let it be a wedding or a funeral. It broke your heart that he ended up being away when these special moments occurred. 

You hated how often you showed up to family and friend events, at least one friend asking where Simon was and joking about how you must have scared him off. An extended family member whispering in your ear about how “men like that” only stayed away because something, someone, better made them want to stay. It only served to make your unstable, fragile relationship strain more.

On bad days where you needed comfort or someone to lean on, you grew the slightest bit resentful. It felt one-sided when it came to comfort. You had to always wait around for Simon: Wait until he comes back, wait until he’s ready to talk, wait for him to ask or he’ll feel ambushed, wait until he initiates the physical comfort that he never offers. But it seemed like you were always there for him. You were the one ready to give him kind words when he felt down, you were the one ready with a cup of his favorite tea and a good movie to distract him, you were the one that always had a hand or a shoulder or a hug prepared at a moment’s notice. So, why couldn’t he do the same for you?

Relationships are extremely stressful for Simon. It’s something he was to learn and he can’t seem to pick it up correctly. He always seems to do something wrong. He always forgets an important date even though he has it written down in his notes app, he gets your favorite things mixed up with the things you hate, he’s so unavailable all the time that he doesn’t know what to do when he isn’t. As time goes on, it’s easier to remember these things. He learns mistakes need to be made in order to learn. 

It doesn’t help that his horrible coping mechanisms seemed to find a spot in his relationship. It’s like an ugly stain on a carpet. So, when things get too hard or they become too overwhelming he does what he does best, hides from it. He puts up a barrier. He throws a rug or a piece of furniture over the stain to hide it away. That’s also the exact thing he does in the beginning of the relationship when something goes wrong. You guys fight? He has no idea what you’re talking about because he wasn’t present. Must have been between you and a friend while he was on deployment. Something he did makes you feel insecure about the relationship? All you’re getting in response is, “Maybe you just aren’t mature enough to date a military man.”

With Simon you are very familiar with the concept that words (or lack of words) hurt. He makes you feel stupid without even trying. You hate arguing with Simon because the two of you don’t argue, you argue. In the beginning of the relationship, Simon doesn’t say anything when you confront him. Well,nothing but, “It’s just the way I am”. You argue with him about how distant he is when he comes home? It’s just the way I am. You get angry because all you wanted was at least a bit of comfort after a shitty day that ended up with you crying on the way home and Simon didn’t even ask you what was wrong? It’s just the way I am. After arguments like that, arguments that always end with Maybe you just aren’t mature enough to date a military man, you think maybe he’s right. 

Simon hates himself for the way he treats you. He really does. You deserve better, he should be better. But no matter how hard he tries he can’t. He can’t bring himself to comfort you, or touch you, or love you correctly. It makes him want to find one of his military knives and stab himself where his heart is to see if it’s working correctly. As the relationship progresses, he gets better and better at being your dream man. But sometimes he has moments where he feels like he’s back at square one. Maybe, he thinks, I need a new heart.

Feelings are slightly taboo in your relationship in the beginning. Simon never wants to talk about his and you feel like you can’t talk about yours. But in the late nights, sometime after Simon has had a glass of liquor to sip on during a movie, the two of you will talk in slow whispers. One of those nights Simon asks you how to love you correctly. He asks you why you haven’t left him yet. You shrug and joke, “I guess I’m more mature now.” He will thank every star he sees that you are so understanding when he gives you no real reason to. He thanks every spec of dust that he’s learned how to do the same for you. 

He’s protective of you. He feels like he needs to be. He’s lost so many people dear to him, that he’s terrified he’ll lose you too. So he’s a little overbearing in the beginning. You weren’t initially allowed to pick him up at the airport when he got back, paranoid some spy would see the two of you together and you’d become a target. Wouldn't let you meet anyone on his squad, your name never once spoken around base. Refused to bring anything of yours with him when he went away, scared a stray hair or partial fingerprint would endanger your existence if it ended up in the wrong hands. You didn’t even get one of his dog tags until a few months into the relationship because he didn’t want any physical evidence tying you to him. He only let up after you had told him how insecure it made you feel. How, even though you knew that it wasn’t his intention, he made you feel like he was ashamed to be dating you. Like he wanted to keep you a secret because he didn’t want to be seen with you. God knows how many past relationships did the exact same thing. But, he’s trying to be your dream man. He relents and stuffs one of your favorite pens in his pocket the next time he leaves. When he gets to base, Soap’s first question is about how you’re doing. 

One of the largest struggles is getting Simon used to family life and civilian life again. He hasn’t had a real family in so long, he doesn’t remember how it feels like. He’s a brooding mess the first few times you bring him to a family gathering for the holidays. He’s off to the side, keeping conversation curt. One of your aunts whispered in your ear maybe it was better off when you came alone and he was on deployment. That causes a big fight, full of yelling and defending his honor. On the ride home you are fuming, getting even angrier when Simon apologizes for the way he was behaving. He didn’t want to embarrass you in front of your family. You tell him that’s ridiculous, that he was nothing to be sorry for. Your smile returns slightly when the image of him playing with your nieces and nephews flashes in your head.

One night, when Simon and you lay in bed before he leaves in the morning, he holds you close to his chest and plays with your hair. He mumbles soft words in your ear, rubbing the skin of your lower back softly. “Thank you for staying with me. I’m sorry for all the times I said you weren’t mature enough to date a military man. I was just scared.” You only hum, kissing his shoulder lovingly in response. He goes on a tangent, apologizing for all the things he did in the past that hurt you. He brings up some things you remember vividly, and things you don’t remember at all. At the end of it, he pulls away slightly and turns to his bedside drawer. He pulls it open, a silver band catching the moon’s light before he holds it between the two of you. He doesn’t ask, and you don’t answer. You hold your hand out, and he slips it onto your finger. In the morning, you hand him his thermos of tea and give him a quick kiss before he walks out and door. Even though his heart feels like it’s about to burst, Simon’s sure his heart is working just fine.

Do these suck lol??

[babygirl-riley]

I was thinking of this, if you'd be willing to write it, something based on "Redeemer" by Palaye Royale where simon's s/o is depressed and suicidal... it's ok if you don't want to thanks anyway luv ya<3

Every Step

Reader is struggling with their mental illness

A/N: This is a HUGE trigger warning, if you cannot read any sort of suicide please do not read. It gets dark in this one. And Anon! This really broke me, this song really just wow! Beautiful and damn sad. Good one 🖤

“Will you please pick up the phone?And I'm waiting for you to come home. And I'm screaming all on my own”

Warnings: suicide attempt, thoughts of suicide, depression, anxiety, mentions of anxiety attack, mental breakdowns, angst, soft!simon, husband!simon

simon x reader guide

simon x reader fluff/angst

You sat curled in the corner of your bedroom. Everything seemed to fall apart in the last 5 months. You had a job you loved just to be let go due to company being bought, your rent was becoming overdue for a month, job hunting going South, your family starting to become more distant after the death of your mother, and Simon and you have been at each others throats.

You have tried to just smile and move on, that life will eventually piece itself back together. Mask your true self-feelings. Even when Simon had been around it was ‘fake it to you make it.’ Little to your knowledge that he noticed, mind you, it wasn’t always your fault when starting fights. However, it was most. He would ask what was the matter and you would blow up.

You never mean to, never wanted to, that’s just how it goes when you get into these ruts. Just not too long ago you and Simon fought, it wasn’t pretty both things from each other were said that shouldn’t have been. Not meant. It got to the point where

Simon left the house, didn’t say a word and left.

You threw things, punched things, broke things. Now you are here, curled up with bloody knuckles and a stained red teared face. You didn’t know how long you were sitting there. Everything ran through your mind of what was going on. What has been happening. Your mind trailing to dark places. It started to panic you slowly, things you have never thought of before.

You thought about ways to make yourself not here anymore. Ways to make the pain go away. You thought how everyone around you would be better off than to handle a bitchy person. Simon would. Your parents would. You friends would. No one truly thought of you as important or loved. You were only loved because it was an inconvenience to them.

You looked at your bathroom and thought about all the pills that were stacked inside the cabinet. Sleep then not wake up. That would be the best way. No pain. You got up to walk to the bathroom, mind racing on how rude and feeling like you have been fake. You shut and locked the door, grabbing each bottle and opening them.

You heard a soft knock on the door then the handle moving. “Love, let me in,” Simon started to put things together, he didn’t hear the water but he did hear pills. Panic rushed through his veins. “Open this door now.” He was stern yet soft at the same time. That’s when he heard the soft crying.

Simon backed up to kick the door. One. Twice. And it slammed open, he scanned the room as you were in the corner in the bathtub. He looked at the pill bottles and froze. Empty. He stormed towards you with panic on his face. “How many!”

You cried even harder. You shook your head, as he grabbed your cheeks gently yet firm. “Y/N how fucking many!”

You looked at him your tears spilling harder. “None! I threw them down the drain!” Simon stood up quickly to look in the sink, the cover go on the drain open.

You sobbed harder as Simon inhaled deeply. He walked to you and gently picked you up. You leaned more into his chest and sobbed harder. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” You kept repeating.

Simon hushed you softly as he placed you on the bed with him following. Laying your head on his lap while he used his fingers to comb through your hair. You just sobbed and sobbed, it felt like hours until you were able to stop. It was silent. Dead silent.

Simon inhaled deeply. “What made you want to take ‘em?”

You sniffled a bit. “I don’t know.”

Simon’s heart hurt before remembering all the phone calls. All the ones he missed just to think it could have been your last. He knew that you were going through something, he tried to be there but you seem to push it off or push him away. “I don’t think anyone would miss me,” His mind lost track of his thoughts when you mumbled those words. “I have been so angry, so upset, and so not happy. I just thought that you and everyone else would be better off without me.” Your voice choked at the end as you sobbed again.

Simon felt his chest tighten, looking at his band on his ring finger. For better and for worse right? He couldn’t fathom the world without the woman he married. Has the last couple of months been hard? Yeah but both of you said in your vows, you would always be with each other. “Baby, I couldn’t live without you. It would-it would kill me.” Simon said softly feeling his throat closing. Softly gliding his finger over your stained cheek. “I’m sorry you felt like you weren’t loved or shown differently.”

You sighed as you started to calm down. “It’s not your fault.”

Simon slowly shifted you to look up from him from his lap. You could tell the worry and hurt in his eyes. The emotion that you caused, he frowned like he read your mind. “I think we should call your therapist.” Simon suggested softly rubbing your arm with one of hands.

You rolled your eyes sitting up, your back towards him. “I don’t need to see her. I can…”

“Baby you attempted...” He said his voice breaking a bit before sighing, he saw your shoulders tense then soften. He gently rubbed your shoulder. “Please.”

You nodded slowly as he heard sniffling. He stepped up and walked over to you kneeling in front of you. Simon’s expression softened even more as he watched you cry again. He rubbed his thumbs against your knees. You sighed and wiped your eyes. “I will call her tomorrow. Can you be next to me while I do so?”

Simon smiled and nodded. “‘ll even dial her up.” You half smiled and nodded placing a hand on his. “Let’s get food?”

You nodded and looked out in the hallway. “Can we eat in here and watch tv?”

Simon stood up and kissed your forehead closing his eyes. “Of ‘ourse.” He stood back having his hand on your cheek before grabbing out his phone. He glanced over at the door and the scene that was once live. His heart tightened. Simon will fight whatever demons you have, he won’t lose you. In sickness and health. He will be there every step of the way.