#like completely wiped off the platform!!!!!

[manhattan-gamestop]

IM BACK BABEY!!!!

[buryustogether]

lilac - chapter 5

miguel o’hara x f!reader

summary: finally, you’re completely, and utterly, alone. but not for long.

wc: 5.2k

tags/warnings: domestic dispute, throwing objects, swearing, breakup, displacement, tooth-rotting fluff

author’s note: seatbelts on please

What woke you the next morning was not heavy, thick arms leaden with muscles, or kisses pressed to your temple with full lips that were curved up into a gentle, tired smile, but rather the alarming buzz of your phone right beside your head. Your eyes opened to stare at the little black box sitting on your pillow inches from your face, the screen bright with an alert that commanded your attention. Grumbling into the pillow and throwing your leg over the empty space beside you, not giving much attention to the fact that your boyfriend should have been there, you grabbed blindly at the phone and brought it to your face.

What you saw pulled you straight from whatever bleariness held you captive.

News stations, shaky cell phone footage, helicopter captures - they all showed the same thing all across every social platform available. An apartment building in Brooklyn had been… well. You didn’t quite know what to call it. Neither did anyone else. The structure of the building had been changed entirely, the very foundation rocked to its core. Floors had been tilted sideways in gravity-defying angles, graffiti no one could decipher had been sprayed and inked along its uneven walls. And to everyone’s horror, the walls and windows and roof seemed to all be glitching, like a television caught between channels. It shook and jumped when officials came too close, threatening to move by itself again and swallow them whole.

No one knew quite what to do. They were calling it a feat of a new villain, the work of a molecular mastermind.

You tapped a news coverage of the strange building, now wide awake and all the sleep cleared from your eyes. The video began to load, that gray little circle swirling around and around… before your phone died and the screen went black.

Releasing a long, growl-like groan of exasperation, you angrily clawed at your charger and plugged your phone in. You tossed off your covers and rubbed at your eye with the palm of your hand, attempting to run through your day. It was some minor holiday - you couldn’t remember which - so school was out, and you had today off from the club, so you were free to do as you wished.

Well, as you sort of wished. Grocery shopping, cleaning the apartment, doing laundry… since god knew Ferris didn’t do any of it.

Your attention was drawn to the front room of the apartment when you heard the door open and closed, followed by a pair of voices. One, you recognized. The other, you did not. Following the soft murmurs and laughter into the main room, you found Ferris and his new keyboard player leaning against the kitchen counter, passing your jug of milk back and forth between them. The girl spotted you standing in the doorway first, her eyes widening slightly at the sight of you watching them like a predator who had cornered two rabbits who were too stupid to be paying attention. She set the jug down on the counter and plastered on a small smile.

“Hi,” she said and waved a hand in your direction.

Ferris glanced up, following her gaze, and almost seemed to stop himself from jumping when he caught your slitted eyes watching him. He reached up to wipe at his lip with his sleeve, clearing his throat. “Hey, babe,” he said, but there was no kind of affection in his tone. It was all guilt and regret for being caught in what he seemed to think was a furtive meet up with his new fucking keyboard player.

As you stared at the two, as you stared at your half-emptied jug of milk sitting on the counter, you felt your chest tightening more and more until there was hardly any room left for you to breathe. Your blood was frozen in your veins, flooding your body with a chilly kind of fire. Every single fiber of your being was alight, fueling the fire that had sparked to life in your chest.

A part of you wanted to play dumb. A part of you wanted to pretend you had no idea what this was, go along with whatever kind of game he was playing because, if you didn’t, you’d be alone.

But that other part of you, that bigger, hulking, furious part of you knew you couldn’t do this anymore. You couldn’t play this part any longer, couldn’t memorize this script while you were also the one writing it and directing the whole show. This stupid fucking costume didn’t fit anymore. The stage wasn’t set any longer.

The show was fucking over.

Like she was sensing the oncoming storm brewing in your home, the girl shuffled on her feet toward the door. “I think I’ll just show myself out,” she said. She started to say goodbye to your boyfriend, beginning to raise a hand, before she caught the dangerous gleam in your eye and slipped out without another word.

As soon as she left, you crossed the room into the kitchen. Ferris regarded you with an unreadable expression. You thought that, maybe, a bit of that furrowed brow was guilt. Fear. You liked the idea of him being afraid of you. But you didn’t allow yourself to indulge in such a thought. For now, all that you could think of was this rage building and building in your throat. That - and the fucking dishes in the sink.

A couple of plates, a few spoons, and a fork. Stuck for days in this porcelain bowl while the dishes in the washer got themselves dirty again.

All this time. All this… effort. And for what? Nothing but a couple dishes left in the sink and this fire growing in your belly.

From behind you, Ferris shuffled himself awkwardly and swallowed thick. “I, uh… I thought you’d already left for work.”

You pursed your lips, feeling tears prod at the corners of your eyes as you stared at the faucet. Silently, you took the deepest breath you could, brought up every ounce of courage that you found within yourself.

You didn’t care if you were going to be alone anymore. You just wanted this to be over.

“I am so fucking done with you.”

For a long, long while, there was only the sound of silence in your apartment. Downstairs a few flights, a dog barked madly. Outside, car horns blared. Thunder rolled in the distance, bringing with it the promise of pouring rain and lightning that would light the sky alight with a fire unmatched.

Ferris said, “What?”

“I said - “ You reached into the skin and grabbed one of the plates, your fingers dipping into the water gathered at the bottom, then spun around on your heel and launched it directly at his head. “I’M DONE WITH YOU!”

He just barely dodged the projectile, his gaze swinging around with it as it sailed through the air and shattered into thousands of pieces against the wall. They scattered like bullet casings, twisting about your bare feet.

“Jesus fucking Christ!” he shouted, lifting a foot to stare at the pieces. “What the hell is wrong with you?!”

You picked your way across the tile floor, tiptoeing around the glinting shards, then jumped into the hallway and stormed back toward the bedroom. As you threw the door open all the way, surely leaving a dent in your wall, you heard him following you.

You didn’t care anymore. You didn’t give a fuck.

As rain droplets began to tick against your windows, you heaved the closet door open, grabbed a pile of his clothes from his side, and tossed them out onto the floor. A number of his shoes followed, dropping limply to the hardwood as you continued to scrounge for more of his belongings.

Ferris grabbed onto the door frame as he came to a stop before you, watching with wide eyes and a gaping mouth as you emptied your closet of his things. “Hey, hey, hey! What the fuck are you doing?!”

Once you were satisfied you’d gotten everything from the closest, you stalked over to his side of the bed and began to rip everything out of its place. His phone charger, his nightstand trinkets, everything that looked and smelled and seemed like him.

His hand came from behind to grab your shoulder, and before you could stop yourself, you flung yourself around and smacked him hard across the face. Before he had a chance to react, to even raise a hand to his cheek, you felt tears spill down your cheeks as you yelled, “Get out! I want you out!”

“Oh, come on, nothing was going to happen -”

“Oh!” you shouted, then stormed past him, out from the bedroom, and into the hallway. He followed close behind, watching as you grabbed his hoodie from where it was slung over the back of the couch and tossed it to the floor. “You’re so fucking stupid, Ferris, you don’t - You don’t get it!”

He stopped you as you made to head for the bathroom next, holding you by your shoulders so tight your skin ached and his knuckles paled. “What?” he demanded, sporting a fleshy red mark on his face where you’d struck him. “Don’t fucking get what?”

“Everything!” you howled, feeling as tears cascaded down your cheeks to your chin. From there, they traveled down your neck and to your collar. “Fucking everything, Ferris! The way you bring people into our home, the way you never help with the bills, the - Jesus, the FUCKING DISHES IN THE SINK! Would it kill you to put away the fucking dishes?!” Ripping yourself from his hold, you reached up to weakly wipe at your tears. “I gave you so many chances, so many. So many signs…! And you never saw them. You never fucking saw them. So I’m giving you one now that you won’t be able to miss. Get. Out.”

For a long moment, Ferris only stared at you. You weren’t able to identify the expression playing his features, but it certainly was not the one that always stared you down on the regular. And you basked in it. Then suddenly he was moving, grasping your shoulders, coming close enough to show that his bottom lip was quivering. Normally you would have wrapped him up in a hug, held him close.

But now you wanted him as far away from you as possible.

“Hey, hey,” he said lowly, sounding strangely sweet. “Just take a breath, alright? Deep breath. We don’t have to do this right now. We’ll get this all cleaned up, sit down, take a break. And we’ll talk it out just like we always do, right?”

“There’s no talking about this, Ferris,” you sniffled, trying to push him away. “There were so many times to sit down and have a goddamn conversation, and you never wanted to. So what makes you think I would sit down and talk this out with you?”

Ferris held on tight despite you trying to get away from him, holding you so that your chests were pressed together. A chill crawled up your spine as you remembered last night; the neon glow of the lights, the feeling of Spiderman’s muscles beneath his shirt, the sensations that crawled across your body when he sighed and held you close.

How fucking pathetic was it that you felt safer in a stranger’s arms than in your own boyfriend’s?

“Because we always work things out, baby,” he said, pulling your attention back to his face. His eyes had faded pink like he was the one that was about to cry - like he was the one who was allowed to cry - and he rubbed his hands up and down your arms. “Right? We always come around. We - we can start over, okay? Forget about the band, and - and that Miguel guy always texting you, and our jobs, and everything. We’ll move, okay? Fresh starts.”

You regarded him with wide eyes, your lips parted and curled upwards in a sneer that you didn’t think you were capable of. A new, fresh kind of feeling entered your veins, one like ice water had replaced your blood. You released a low, disgusted sound from the back of your throat and clasped a hand over your throat. “You - have you been going through my phone?”

Ferris pursed his lips - a tell he had that his anger was starting to flare up. “Only to keep you safe,” he urged. When you finally shoved him away and turned, he burst. “And good thing I have been, too, huh?! That creep is practically stalking you! Texting every other night, asking you to meet up -”

“Because of his fucking kid!” you howled, then grabbed the television remote and threw it at his head. He must have seen your windup, because he ducked, letting the projectile sail over his head and smack against the couch behind him. “He’s a father, you fucking dickhead - his kid is my goddamn student! I’ve been tutoring her! Not going out on dates with the guy! How selfish can you be?!”

“You and I both know those aren’t texts of some shitty-ass ‘well to do’ pops,” he threw back when he’d returned to his full height. “Asking how you’re doing in the middle of the night? While you’re at work? Real classy, that guy is. Trying to fuck his kid’s teacher.”

“Will you get out already!” Tears rivered down your cheeks as you hugged yourself, bare feet freezing against the hardwood floor and heart thundering in your ears loud enough to triumph the rain that had begun its pounding on the windows. “Get the fuck out of my apartment!”

Ferris stared at you for a long, long while, his chest heaving and his eyes ablaze with some kind of emotion you could not place. For a moment or two, you thought briefly that he was going to strike you. But then he stooped to grab his hoodie and stormed past you. Broken pieces of plate crunched under his shoes as he threw open the front door. “Call me when you’re ready to talk like an adult,” he said over his shoulder, then left you alone.

So incredibly, utterly, terrifyingly alone.

Slowly, as the blood rushing in your ears faded away, the noises of the outside world returned. The dog downstairs was still barking. The cars were still honking. The rain was pounding, and the thunder was rolling, and you were sobbing.

Contorting your mouth into a cry as a broken wail escaped your lips, you let yourself sink down to the cold floor and hung your head in your lap. Your systems were all fried, your brain on break. The only thing you could do was sit there in a heap and cry, shaking amidst the absolute mess you’d made of your home.

What seemed like hours later, and when you found yourself all out of tears, you sat up and stared at an empty place across the room. You’d finally, actually, truly done it. You’d kicked him out, opened your chest and shown him just how many bullet wounds you’d been carrying from every time he pulled that trigger of a tongue. He was gone. And you intended to keep it that way.

White noise invaded your ears as you set to work, allowing the rest of the world to fade away. You swept up the shattered pieces of porcelain on the kitchen floor; when you picked up a larger piece that had tried to get away from you, you realized it reminded you of your monarch mask from the club. You let it drop to the ground, and then you cleaned up those pieces, as well.

Next you emptied your box of trash bags and dragged them behind you as you traveled your apartment room to room, corner to corner, clearing out everything that belonged to Ferris. His clothes, his utilities and trinkets and prized possessions - they all went into the bags. And those bags were hauled downstairs and placed in the corner beside the trash. The guitar was leaned up against them. When you went back down half an hour later to throw out his food you hated the leftovers he’d been letting rot, it was gone.

Maybe those strings could make someone better than him happier than he was.

When the entire place was cleared of him, you dug through your wallet and the secret stash you kept in the sole of one of your ratty shoes and went to knock on your landlord’s door. The locks on yours were changed in less than an hour.

And when you finally felt safe enough to breathe in your own air again, you cleaned your entire home. Floor to ceiling, you mopped and wiped down and sprayed until every single trace of him was gone. The sheets were changed. The couch cushions washed. Every single piece of grime and dirt he’d brought into your life was gone.

And you couldn’t have been more glad.

Ferris had been a stain on your life, one you hadn’t necessarily wanted to clean and get rid of. If you did, it meant that you’d be left with a blank slate, with the echo of what you used to have. But echoes were meant to fade away. And blank slates were meant to be filled with new things. Bigger, better, brighter things.

It must have been late evening, after the rain had finally calmed and the thunder moved south, when you were pulled from the little dinner you were making yourself by a knock on the door. Your head whipped around, systems on high alert, thinking it was Ferris. You stayed perfectly still and silent.

There came another, slightly more frantic knock, followed by a call of your name. But it wasn’t Ferris on the other side. “Hello?” said Miguel O’Hara. “Are you home?”

For the first time today, since the moment you’d opened your eyes this morning, a certain kind of warmth blossomed throughout your chest. Setting the stove to low, you crossed the little kitchen, unchained your new locks, and swung the door open. The sight that greeted you was not the one you realized you were expecting.

Both Miguel and Gabriella were soaked to the bone, creating a puddle at your doorstep, and each hauling a small load of baggage over their shoulders. Their matching eyes were tired, exhausted. The little girl was shivering through her wet clothes, and her father tugged her closer to his side in an attempt to keep her warm.

“Hey,” murmured Miguel when your alarmed gaze flickered to meet his.

“Oh, my god,” you said, then stepped aside so that they could enter. “Get inside, please. Come on.” You watched as they trudged into your kitchen, lugging their things with them. “What the hell happened?” you asked, forgetting your mouth in front of your third grader.

Miguel dropped his bag down beside the door as you shut and locked it, releasing a long, weighted sigh from the back of his throat. He dipped his head down and palmed at the back of his neck as he turned to face you. “The apartment,” he said shortly, and suddenly you understood. The apartment building this morning in Brooklyn that had been disfigured by… whatever. It had been theirs.

How long had they been out in this?

“Jesus,” you said, kneeling down to grab a clean dish rag and towel Gabriella’s soaking hair. She sniffed tightly as you did so, her large, brown eyes shut to the sensation of your hands moving across her head. Poor fucking kid - displaced by whatever new freak incident New York had to offer this week.

“I tried to call you,” said Miguel from where he stood over you.

Your heart sunk slightly in your chest. “I’m so sorry,” you said as you stood, clutching the towel to your chest. God, even with all that excess water weighing him down, he still towered over you like a mountain. You were able to see his midsection through his wet shirt; but you didn’t let yourself go there. Not now. “I’ve been busy all day. Something - something happened, and…”

He met your eyes, limp hair hanging in his face to frame his temples, his cheekbones, his finely-cut jaw. A drop of water fell from the squared point of his chin, landing on the top of your bare foot. It sent a shiver racing in a mad dash up your spine. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered to you, and you were able to feel his warm breath fan across your face. Christ, when had you gotten this close? “We didn’t have anywhere else to go.”

“Don’t do that.” Against your better judgment, because today had been a day of going against every wall and boundary you knew, you reached up to ghost your fingers along his jaw. You swore you heard his breath hitch in his throat as he blinked down at you. “You can stay as long as you need to. Both of you.” You swallowed, clenching your jaw against the screaming, searing sensation that wanted you to lean forward and connect your lips to his. “I don’t care if it’s days or weeks or months. You and she will always have a home here.”

This was insane. You could get fired from your job if the board found out you were doing this. But you didn’t care. As of now, your mind had long since run away, and you weren’t in much of a rush to catch it. Because if it felt this good to be out of your head, then by god, did you want to stay like this forever.

Miguel’s head tipped down ever so slightly and his throat moved as he swallowed thick. He had just opened his lips to whisper something in reply when your attention was pulled to the side, reminding you that you were not the only ones here.

“Daddy,” said Gabriella, looking just miserable standing there in a puddle of the water dripping off of her. “I’m really cold.”

Pulling away with a quick glance, Miguel stooped to pull his daughter into his arms. “I know, princesa,” he murmured as he held her, smoothing back hair that had stuck to her face. “We’ll get you warmed up.”

“The bathroom’s just down there,” you said, pointing down the hall. “You can run her a bath, if she wants. I’ll grab her something to wear.”

Nodding his thanks, he carried her and one of her bags down the hall and into the bathroom. A few minutes after the door softly clicked shut, you heard the water begin to run. You leaned against the countertop, staring at the bags gathering water by your front door.

This was happening. This was happening. Miguel O’Hara was going to be staying in your home. After dreaming and fantasizing all this time, he was finally within arm’s reach.

But your quiet comprehension was muted by the cold slap of reality. He wasn’t here for pleasure; he was here out of necessity. Out of survival. He and his daughter wouldn’t have a home for god knew how long; this wasn’t some dream come true. It was a tragedy.

On quiet feet, because you thought you heard Gabriella sniffling from the bathroom as she and her father talked in hushed tones, you crept into your room and retrieved an oversized sweatshirt and some shorts that she would be able to drawstring tight. After leaving them by the restroom door, you took her and Miguel’s things into the bedroom and laid out what little lay inside to dry; some of his spare clothes, a laptop, legal documents… anything and everything they could have been able to grab before they were evacuated. Staring at a framed picture of Gabriella when she couldn’t have been older than three or four, you wondered just what had caused the strange phenomenon that destroyed their home. Had it been an accident? Or had something targeted taken place?

You wondered if Spiderman was trying to take care of it.

After laying out their belongings to dry on your bed, you hurried back to the kitchen and scrambled to make your dinner enough for three people to share. You hoped they liked store-brand mac and cheese.

Some time later, after you’d heard your hair dryer running for a while, Miguel and Gabriella emerged from your restroom. She looked tiny in your old pajamas, but she seemed content with the way the long sleeves flopped about her arms and the hoodie framed her face like a curtain. He’d also changed into a spare set of clothes he must have had in the bag - a loose pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt that stretched in the most perfect way across his well-defined pecs. You couldn’t help but stare for a moment longer than necessary when they wandered back into the kitchen, following their noses to the plates waiting for them.

“Hope you two are hungry,” you said as you gave them each their dinner. “Gabriella, honey, the remote is on the arm of the couch, if you want to watch TV while you eat.”

After waiting for a nod from her father, she took her plate and scurried over to your couch. A moment later, your apartment was filled with the quiet sounds of cartoons.

Miguel released a long, deep sigh from the pit of his stomach as he leaned back against the kitchen counter with you, crossing his bare feet at the ankles. How funny it was, how beautifully ironic, how quickly this had become an idyllic scene of domestication. “I really can’t tell you how much this helps us,” he said, pushing mac and cheese around with his fork. His thick, full brows pinched together as he lost himself in thought. You noticed that when he did, a little line appeared at the corner of his mouth. “It all happened so quickly. Just…”

“Hey.” Again going against what your brain tried to pull you away from, you placed the hand that wasn’t holding your bowl over his wrist. Despite having been soaked just a short time ago, his tan skin was warm beneath your own. When your fingers slid down, you felt the soft twitch of his pulse. “It’s alright, Miguel. You’re here now. She’s safe.” You gave him a small, crooked smile. “It’ll be okay.”

He held your gaze for a long while, so long that you felt your heart skip a beat, and when it did, he released a small chuckle - like he could hear it. Finally, you both looked down to push around at your dinners. He did not ask you about the absence of your boyfriend that you had told him pushed you out of your own home that day at the library. You were sure a keen man like him could pick up on a few things; how there were no belongings of another man here, how there were dents in the walls where you’d thrown items and slammed doors.

He didn’t ask, and you were glad. It seemed, in a way, he knew.

You loved that he did.

Behind you, the sound of a speaker being fiddled with pulled your heads around. Gabriella had discovered the little record player on your shelf - a gift to yourself a year or two ago. You hadn’t played it much, what with Ferris’ constant complaining about it. But as you watched the little girl gingerly place a vinyl down on the player, you realized you’d been missing out.

“Ay,” scolded Miguel and set down his bowl. “Manos a ti mismo.”

“It’s okay,” you said, then moved into the living room to help her with the settings. “I haven’t used this thing in forever.”

Seemingly still a little shell shocked from the events of the day, Gabriella watched you shyly as you dropped the needle and suddenly, music was spilling from the speakers. It wasn’t the kind of music your old boyfriend played on that guitar of his; this was real, with heart and feeling and a kind of rhythm that pulled your heart slightly from the abyss it was stuck in.

‘Hey, what’s the matter with your head, yeah?’

And then, because fuck, you couldn’t think of anything else to do, and because your feet were suddenly moving on their own, you started dancing. You swayed back and forth to the beat of the song, to the bass and the melody, wiggling your head a bit.

“Come on, pretty girl,” you said, taking Gabriella’s small hands in yours. “Will you show me that beautiful smile and dance with me?”

Slowly, gingerly, like a bit of her fiery, lively soul was returning to her, Gabriella’s lips thinned into a smile. She let you pull her around the living room, beginning to copy your movements as she grinned and giggled. Her limbs were sluggish and awkward, a wonderful testament to the mere nine years she’d been on the earth, but her laughter and her tongue poking through the place where she’d recently lost a tooth made up for it. Lyrics like directions to your awful little dance spewed from the shelf where the record player sat, witness to the show in your home.

‘Baby, find it, come on and find it.’

You spun on your heel to face Miguel, who was standing at the entrance of your kitchen, watching the scene before him with parted lips and hooded eyes that made your stomach turn violently and passionately. Shuffling closer to him and bringing forth every ounce and inch of courage you hand, you took your hands and wiggled up close. You breathed out the next lyrics in a sing-songy whisper only he could hear.

“Bear with it, baby, ‘cause you’re fine, and you’re mine, and you look so divine.”

Miguel’s head tilted to the side in that way he did, gaze wider now and the beginnings of a low, enthralled smile twisting his lips. Then his feet were moving, allowing you to pull him into the living room with Gabriella to join your little dance.

While she twisted and spun and pretended to know the words, you felt his fingers interlace with yours. You grinned, because holy fuck - what else in the world was there to do? - and let him sway you back and forth with the thrum of the song, fronts just inches apart and legs already tangled together. He began to hum the song from the back of his throat, from the bottom of his belly, and you swore you’d never heard a better sound in your life.

When Gabriella had turned away, too caught up in her own world of the song, Miguel leaned in close so that his cheek brushed yours, so that your chests were pressed together, so that his full lips grazed the shell of your ear. He murmured so softly you strained to hear him over the swell of the music, but you did.

“You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” he whispered.

Then he pulled back away to bore his gaze down into your own, his forehead just barely grazing yours.

You didn’t know what to say. Didn’t trust yourself to say nothing, because you might have just shrunk into yourself and disappeared into the very tingling, overwhelming ache and pang of want and need and everything else in your heart. Didn’t trust yourself to open your mouth, because you might have just leaned up and kissed him.

So you just pressed your forehead up into his, smiled so bright and so wide your cheeks hurt, and danced.

tags: @mooomeadows @twentysomethingwereyote @screamforyani @fangirlreice7 @axdjelx @ornamentalnecromancy @faust-pda @ilikethemoon28 @mrm-pachypoda @wadafrick @natthernandez @bakgoktski @soupsexsunsalutationsss @roxannarichie @lovagirlxxx @soggyeyeballsss @yoyoyoyoyo55555 @sophipet @quaintii @lavnderluv @cookiezxx @euphorica @its-a-polyglot @nicalysm @maxi-ride @exzidss @crappwr0m @femme-is-dead @bitch-onthemoon @hier—soir @takayomi @kirke-is-my-name @d1lf-loverrr @might-be-a-rat @brooks-lin @maki-z @bookfreakk @act1839 @dollscircus @sleepingaway @anxietybutterfly @bioticboot @mxkn @freeingrebels @digitalcreature404 @aimee777 @hunnaye @blahbahed @cyanide-mustard @impettywhenyouare @mental-illness-is-my-friend @bobfood @jenniferdixon05207 @moonchild-cupcake @venomous-ko @marvelouslovely-barnes @syarblu @fruitcupsworld @soooooyesbutactually-no @hopefulcandywitch @elwyn7 @oh-theseus @thepanwiccan @takayomi @dreamingofbucky @yuuuumii @p1nkliquor @scammer-get-scammed @mlishe

[nariism]

{REQ, ONLY IF YOU WANNA! <3]

Can you do a Wriothesley one where we take care of him when he's like sick or injured 👉👈 gotta treat my husband ykyk😞

a/n: hii i'm sorry this is kind of late! got busy with life stuff so i died a bit. anyways please take this sickfic <3

you've been spoiling him to no end.

if his sinuses weren't painfully congested and his throat didn't feel like he just swallowed glass, he would probably be smiling.

right now, he just feels miserable.

wriothesley has always prided himself on being the picture of health. to your utter jealousy, there was absolutely nothing in the world that could get him sick. even in the deepest winters with the chill of the sea sweeping over fontaine, he would walk around with only his jacket dangling off his shoulders.

you'd like to think that this is karma for all the times he rubbed in your face how he would never get sick.

"you didn't have to dive into the water like that," you scold him.

"i did have to," he replies stubbornly, lip jutting out like a child. you smear your finger across his pout to effectively wipe it off his face, laughing when his head falls forward against your shoulder in response.

"it’s just a necklace."

"it’s your favourite necklace." he quickly corrects, as if that would justify the extremity of leaping into the sea and not surfacing for three whole minutes.

"oh, sweetest..." you coo, holding his head against you and laughing again (much to his dismay) when he sniffles in a weak attempt to clear his sinuses. "you didn't have to do that."

you can feel him physically deflating in your hold so you stammer out: "but i really do appreciate you getting it back for me!"

the man just pulls away with a scowl, looking like a mixture of a kicked puppy and a cranky old dog. "you owe me for that."

"owe you?" you repeat in disbelief. "and what would you like, hm?"

"feed me."

"..."

his face lights up again with amusement as you freeze, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water trying to process what's just been requested of you.

if it were anyone else, you would have thought it was a joke. but you've known wriothesley long enough to know the telling pull of his smirk, the lazy yet smug expression screaming that he's being dead serious.

and, well, he did leap off a bridge 30 feet in the air after your charm slipped off your neck. and he did manage to recover it, returning to you like a matted wet animal all pouty and shivering from the cold.

the cherry on top of it all was that he insisted on clipping it back around your neck, prolonging his state of being drenched in freezing sea water and guaranteeing his sickness.

so... you suppose you do owe him this at the very least.

that's how ten minutes later you end up straddling his lap, warm bowl of porridge in one hand and a spoon in the other.

"open." you demand, spoon already squeezing past his lips. he chuckles, allowing you to feed him even in such a compromising position.

you look completely flustered, too. he can feel the tremble of the spoon in his mouth as he swallows his meal. maybe it's the iron grip he has on your hips. maybe it's the fact that your bulky, brooding, monster of a husband is acting like he can't feed himself.

either way, your embarrassment doesn't go unnoticed and you're sure he's enjoying every second of it.

"i should get sick more often," he muses.

you groan, realizing that you'd rather take his endless gloating over this.

"no... please don't."

© ALABOADOA 2023 — please do not translate or post my works to other platforms.

[starbunii]

hiii first time requesting so can you write a thing where reader doesn’t like kissing like on the cheek and will immediately wipe it off of wait a little to not hurt feeling and instead just places their cheek on the lovers face also just sometimes reader doesn’t wipe it off and the only time they never is when it’s not touching their skin! I just have like an ick when anyone kisses me for the characters can you do Scara/wanderer,Dilic,Childe, and Kaeya! You don’t have to do the last one :)) take your time!!

# . wiping away kisses 𓂃 ♥︎

𝜗𝜚 ┈ wanderer, diluc, childe, and kaeya x reader (seperate) ! ｡

notes: this one was cuuuuteee!!! i leaned into a pouty sort of aspect for some of these, just bc i thought it would be kind of fun!! also i got a bit mushier for diluc, since i have a soft spot for him </3

headcanons ノ fluffノgn! reader ノcanon universe

second person pov !! please enjoy! ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶

-- ♡ --

scaramouche/wanderer

tbf, he probably only kisses you on the cheek when there's something to celebrate. wanderer loves you so much!! he's just not one for PDA

however, the first time he kisses your cheek and you physically recoil? safe to say, he's a bit offended

of course, once you explain everything, he completely understands. he'll switch to holding hands or gentle little hugs

really doesn't mind too much; he knows how to show his love for you in different ways

diluc

similar to wanderer, he's a little offended at first. he'll carefully ask you about what's wrong, clearly confused as to why you don't want his gentle kisses on your soft skin

once you explain that it just puts you off, he'll adjust quickly

switches to gently kissing your gloved hands, holding your face carefully in his palms, simply admiring the beauty that is you

you really are all he has left. he wants to respect your boundaries. he loves you with all his heart; you're clearly the only thing preventing him from accepting crippling loneliness

childe

oh he starts WHINING once you wipe off his smoochies

physical touch is one of his main love languages. he hates that you just want to brush it away like that!! he pouts, begging you to let him try again

once you explain why you don't want to, he's at least a little less pouty, but he's still clinging to your arm like a little koala

all this means is that he'll give you smooches where you're okay with it; shoulders, your hand, maybe even your knee, if thats somewhere you're comfy with

kaeya

not really offended when you brush off that initial kiss to the cheek...just..surprised

he'll immediately go and ask you what's up, making sure he didn't do something wrong or hurt you in any way. when you explain that it's just an icky feeling, he gets it

his compromise is playing with your hair, or putting a sticker on your cheek. it's a good work around, and it makes you both giggle

he's pretty much willing to try everything, especially for you. if there's something he can do to make you feel more comfortable, he'll do it no matter the cost

starbunii 2024 — all rights reserved. do not redistribute or translate to any other platforms

[imyourbratzdoll]

𝒂 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒔𝒐 𝒋𝒐𝒍𝒍𝒚 𝒄𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒎𝒂𝒔

so, I saw something similar on tiktok and wanted to write it, credits to the person who came up with it.

summary - being a new member of the largest superhero team, you'd think that things would go well, but everything is revealed when christmas rolls around.

warning - angst.

the gif and header I use isn't mine.

Warnings and Reminders - Please do not plagiarise, copy, repost/republish, adapt, or translate any of my work on any social media platforms, apps, or third-party sites. The only platforms I post my work on are: Tumblr and Wattpad. I do not own any character of any franchise (Marvel etc.) All my works are fiction and may be dark or triggering content: READ ALL WARNINGS BEFORE PROCEEDING.

It was rare for the two teams to merge, but every December around Christmas time they would, and with you being the newest member of the Avenger gang. This would be your first-time celebrating Christmas altogether. You watched curiously as they all hung large socks along the fireplace, happy chatter filling the air. “What are those?” You tilt your head.

“Stockings.” You look at Natasha as she replies, “It’s a Christmas tradition where you put small presents inside the stockings of those you care for.” You nod, and your eyes light up. 

“Oh cool!” For the rest of the day you intently listen and observe to pick out the perfect things for them, and over the course of the next few weeks. You slowly begin to fill their stockings, your eyes would fall to yours and notice how empty it looked. But you had hope, there were still a few more days till Christmas and maybe they just haven’t gotten around to it yet. Except Steve walks in and you notice his hands are full, and how he puts a gift for everyone but you. It was as if you were invisible because he didn’t even look at you. “Oh…” 

You continue to splurge and buy everyone things they like, in hopes that you were wrong about them. You skip out of your room on the big day, excited for your first Christmas. When you enter the room, you notice everyone going to their stockings before their presents and expressing happiness with the items they received and with your own excitement, you head over to your stocking and it feels as though the world has stopped. Your stocking was still empty, you finally realised you really meant nothing to the team. You didn’t blame the X-men for not putting anything in because you had only just met them, but your own team? It hurt, you could feel the tears beginning to brim. 

You quickly blink them away before sitting down next to Jean and give her a soft smile, making sure to keep your emotions away from your face and thoughts. “How are you liking it here?” You gnaw on your bottom lip, turning your gaze to your team handing out their presents. 

“I don’t mind it, how about you? I heard this is your first Christmas?” You could see the questions lingering in her eyes, because anyone would question how you could never have a Christmas, but she never completely asks. 

You nod, “Yes, yes. It’s my first and I don’t know… It’s not what I thought it would be.” You stare off, not receiving any presents alongside the stocking. “I’m uh… I’m just going to go for a walk, I don’t feel so good.” You force a smile and get up, heading outside before you could break down in front of everyone. Once you head outside, you break down. You felt like you’d rather be back where you came from. At least your enemies didn’t forget about you. 

“They are all jerks.” You jump as you hear a gruff voice from behide you, you turn, locking eyes with the one and only Wolverine, a cigar between his lips and his eyes harshly set on you. “Not much of heroes when they brag about it every two seconds.” He pushes off the wall and moves closer to you, something catching your eye as the moonlight shines on his hand. 

You look and tilt your head, wiping your cheeks roughly, “What’s that?” Your mouth falls open when he pulls up a cute stocking decorated with glitter, filled to the brim with a small wrapped present resting at the top. “It’s so cute! Whoever it’s for is very lucky.” You give a soft smile, knowing no one would ever get you anything.

Logan shakes his head. “It’s for you, sweets. Those guys are arseholes, they don’t deserve someone as sweet as you on their team.” You feel your breath hitch as he growls, “Open it, honey.” He hands you the stocking and present, leaning against the wall and puffing on the cigar as he watches you open everything.

You gasp, “Oh my god! This is so beautiful, thank you!” You look at him with tears in your eyes as you open the present on the top, a small adorable wolf necklace sits inside the box. You move closer, awkwardly wanting to hug him but not knowing if that will cross a line. Logan raises a brow, placing the cigar between his teeth as he opens his arms. You launch forward and wrap your arms around him, not knowing how to express the feelings that are bubbling up inside. “This is the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me, thank you.” 

“You’re welcome, darlin’, now why don’t you look inside the stocking. I had Jean and the other women help choose what we thought you’d like.” You look shocked, wondering why a team that wasn’t yours would care more for you than the one you are currently in. Logan reaches up and wipes a tear that falls down your cheek, “We take care of our own, Y/n.” 

Your bottom lip juts out as it wobbles, and you slowly reach inside, sobs escape you as you find everything you like and some new things you’ve wanted to try. “Oh my god…” You feel like you are loved and wanted, but then an overbearing sadness erupts throughout you as you realise that you are stuck with people who don’t want you. 

“That is not true, Miss L/n.” You turn and notice the whole X-men team are there, giving you soft smiles. “I have ordered for your things to be transferred. As Logan said, we take care of our own and you, Miss L/n are one of us.” 

All you could utter are the words thank you. Maybe your first Christmas wasn’t so bad after all.

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

[theunbearableweightofpedropascal]

Angel p.2

Summary: You and Charlie go on your first date.

A/N: I need more Charlie Swan fics, so I've resorted to writing them.

Warnings: Smut 18+, p in v sex,

Word Count: 3.1k

Throughout the day you were taking time to get ready for your and Charlie’s date later. Thankfully you had the day off so you took full advantage of sleeping in till noon. Picking your outfit wasn’t hard, a mini floral sundress with pink accents paired with straw platforms. 

Next up on your agenda was getting the perfect make-up look, precisely one that looked natural. A tutorial on puppy-dog eyeliner catches your eye. Upon completing both eyes you try it with a red lip stain, solidifying your look for the evening. You head into the bathroom to scrub it all off before fixing yourself a snack.

Your parents were going out for their semi-regular date night so you wouldn’t have to explain your absence to them. The clock nears 7:00 and you know Charlie is arriving around 8:30, you gather your step-by-step routine and start the process with a hot shower. Your counter is an array of skincare and makeup products, and your styled hair is packed away in your shower cap. 

The water helps relax you and your thoughts about the date. You take your time exfoliating your entire body before shaving. You decide to leave your vagina alone hoping that’ll keep you from giving it up. Stepping out the the shower you wipe the mirror and check your phone seeing two texts from Charlie.

Getting off work now. - Charlie 7:40

Getting ready now. -Charlie 7:46

Looking at the messages makes you laugh, his personality shines through the texts. Since he was giving you updates it only seems fair you return the favor. You raced to your room to find a tank top and some lounge shorts, but not before lotion and baby oil. You place yourself in front of the mirror in your room, making sure the sliver of skin below your tank is showing. Turning your phone around you smile up at your camera waiting for the click.

Halfway done I promise. -You 7:53 

It took you a little longer than you would’ve liked but the picture turned out great. You head back into your bathroom to make up for lost time. Carefully you begin concealing your under-eyes, the finished product gives you the natural glow you were looking for. The puppy-dog eyeliner from earlier is easy to put back on, and it suits your eyes more. The last two steps are your brows and lips but you decide to put on your dress first.

You check your phone and see 3 texts from Charlie along with the time. 8:20. The dress you picked out was a floral print with pink accents, and the neckline scrunches around your breast allowing you to forgo a bra. The sleeves went off your shoulder and stopped at your wrists, you decided it was best to also take a cardigan in case. The fit was close to your body but not skin-tight, allowing for a flowy bottom. Walking back to your bathroom, you finish your lip with a deep burgundy stain and brush your eyebrows with hairspray. You finally check your text messages, pleasantly surprised. 

You look beautiful. -Charlie 7:53

On my way to you. - Charlie 8:10

The third and final message is an awkward photo of Charlie standing in what you guess is his foyer. You are almost sure that Bella was the poor soul taking the photo, you wonder how that conversation went. But you check what time he left again and realize you might have miscalculated your prep time. Your window faces the street so you check for his car and see nothing and there aren’t any new messages. Quickly you grab your perfume to spritz all over. Your platform sandals are easy to slip on before you make your way downstairs. 

The mirror by the front door of your house is occupied by you checking for last-minute touch-ups. The doorbell sounds and you almost sprint to the door with your purse in hand before turning the knob. Charlie stands in front of you with a beautiful bouquet made of violets and daffodils. You weren’t expecting him to get you flowers, but you step back and motion for him to come inside. After you close the door behind him he hands you the flowers.

“Thank you, Charlie. They’re gorgeous.” You stand on your toes to peck his cheek. 

“Of course Angel.” Charlie smiles down at you with flushed cheeks, he is nervous about if the flowers would be too much.

“Let me just put these in some water and put them in my room.” You run quickly to the kitchen to find a vase to place them in. In your room, you decide to place the flowers next to your bed. You meet Charlie at the door and you take the time to look at what he put on. Gone is his usual uniform of flannel and jeans, instead, he stands before you in a grey knit sweater with dark jeans. It even looks like he trimmed up his mustache.

“You clean up nice Chief Swan.” You glide your hand up his arm and along his bicep caressing it. Charlie feels his heart speed up at your antics, but he rolls his eyes to cover his flushed cheeks.

“Not as nice as you,” His voice is low as he reaches out to play with the hem of your dress. “You ready to go?”

You nod your head and he opens the door for you to step onto the patio. He waits as you lock the front door, When you turn around with a big smile his stomach jolts. As usual he opens the door and waits for you to settle before closing it. When he enters from his side he smells your perfume, and it gives him a reason to be extra close to you later. 

The drive to Port Angeles was smooth, you opted to play the radio rather than start a meaningless conversation. Although Charlie wasn’t a fan of listening to music he didn’t want to subject you to silence. The view kept you mostly occupied, you forgot how pretty the landscape here was. 

Charlie pulls the car into the parking lot of the Italian spot, at least for where you guys live. Surprisingly he places a hand on your thigh telling you not to move before he gets out to open your door. Excitement beats through your body when Charlie rounds the car, the date is already off to a great start. His hand stretches out towards you to take when he gets to your door and you gladly take it. You take the opportunity given and you keep your hand in his on the way inside. 

The hostess greets the both of you with a smile before asking how many. 

“I made a reservation under Swan for two.” Although it’s a small feat the fact that he made reservations in the first place makes you smile. As the hostess checks the books you bring your other arm to his bicep. Charlie sneaks a peek down at you only to see you look at him like he hung the star and moon. He’s worried you can hear his heart thundering. 

“Yes, Mr. & Mrs. Swan please follow me.” She grabs two menus before walking to the right. As you walk through the restaurant you’re happy you see no one from town. Not that you’d be embarrassed by Charlie, but the gossip was already bad enough when you two were having friendly lunches. The booth you’re led to is the perfect opportunity to find excuses to rub against Charlie. 

“Your server should be with you shortly.” You both thank the hostess before looking through the menu. You’re having trouble deciding between what you usually get or if you want to try something new. 

“You see anything you like? You do like Italian food right?” Charlie’s nervous line of questioning makes you giggle. 

“I love Italian.” You seal your admission with a kiss.

“Sorry I just don’t wanna mess anything up, it’s been a while.” Charlie scratches the back of his neck while looking away from you. 

“I can’t see why, you’re a catch. I mean you got me flowers and made reservations, even though you didn’t need them. It shows you are very thoughtful.” You rattle off wanting him to know how much you appreciate his little gestures. 

Charlie has no choice but to accept your compliments, and he’s glad you think so highly of him. Even if he can’t quite see it. 

“Have you thought about which wine we should go with?” Charlie leans over to where you’re looking at the drink menu.

“I thought you would order a Budweiser.” You can’t help but poke fun at him.

“Ha ha I’ll have you know I can be a man of fine dining, sometimes I get my steak medium well.” The laughter that falls from your lips has his heart skipping. 

“Well, then I think a merlot would be good.” You hear no objections from Charlie and go back to your meal options.

The dim lighting in the restaurant makes you feel at home, and Charlie doesn’t make you nervous. He makes you giddy and excited but you’re comfortable around him, despite your attraction.

“Good Evening, I’m Evan,” A teenage boy approaches your table with a smile and a basket of breadsticks. “I’ll be your server tonight. Are there any drinks I can get started for ya?”

“Yes, could we get a bottle of Merlot to start?” Charlie answers the waiter while you grab a breadstick. 

“Of course do you need more time for appetizers?” The server readies himself for Charlie’s answer.

“Could we get a house salad please, I think we still need time for the main course thank you.” You’ve successfully finished your breadstick and reached for another, but Charlie reaches for the same one. He playfully slaps your hand away to collect his first one. Your jaw drops at his audacity.

“So that’s how it is huh?” You playfully glare at him.

“You got the first one didn’t you?” He gripes before taking his first bite.

“What happened to ladies first? Chivalry?” After your rant, he places a breadstick onto your plate.

Throughout the dinner, you and Charlie’s conversation continued to be effortless. You ended up ordering a shrimp scampi and Charlie chose a lasagna. The bottle of wine was one glass away from being finished, and you could feel its effects coursing through you. Although you ate most of your food and had a sliver of Charlie’s, you still had some leftovers. Charlie took it upon himself to help you finish.

You found yourself playing with Charlie’s hand, tracing the prominent veins. The sight of him hounding your food is surprisingly something you’ve come to enjoy watching. 

“Did you want dessert?” Though Charlie’s question would get a ‘yes’ any other night, you had other ideas. 

“No,” You look him in the eye and lower your voice. “But I really don’t want our date to end yet.”

“Then what do you suggest we do Angel?” Charlie, oblivious as ever asks you.

“I think we should get the check and head to the car, I think I saw an ice cream parlor.”

Charlie picks up the check and you don’t even pretend to reach for it, he’d probably smack your hand for real. On the way out you lean into Charlie as he has his arm wrapped around your shoulder. When you get to the car you see Charlie reach for your door but you stop him. 

“What's wrong?” Charlie immediately questions when you grab his hand. 

“Nothing,” You try to find the words to express what you want, so you resort to physical touch. You wrap your arms around the back of his neck. “It’s just you look so good tonight, and I wanted to…” Your eyes trail to the backseat and back to him. 

“Angel, that’s illegal.” His words were chastising you but you knew with a little convincing he’d cave. 

“And who exactly is gonna arrest you Chief Swan?” After your declaration, you trail kisses up & down his neck. Charlie's knees almost buck from the feeling of your soft lips all over his neck. When you pull back he follows you to the back door of the cruiser. 

“Alright but absolutely no sex.” His finger pointing at you tells you he means business. He pulls out his key to unlock the back door.

“Of course Chief Swan.” You give him a peck before climbing in the backseat, Charlie opts to wait. He checks the area to make sure there’s no one to potentially catch you two.

When Charlie meets you in the back you waste no time straddling his lap. His hands are glued to your sides, while his head leans against the headrest. Your hands feel all over his chest like they’ve been itching to do all night. Charlie initiates the kiss this time, his lips languidly moving with yours. Your hips begin to move on their own, desperately rubbing against the growing bulge in Charlie’s pants. 

The feeling of Charlie’s tongue licking at your lips had you moaning into his mouth. He swallowed every sound you made and helped you rub yourself on him. He truly can’t believe he’s dry-humping in the backseat as if he was a horny teenager again. Charlie’s hands slip under your dress so he can cup your ass, skin to skin. He knows he said no sex but the way you grind on him has him seeing stars. 

One of Charlie’s hands slides to the front of your panties, rubbing you through the fabric. You break the kiss to throw your head back in bliss. Charlie takes the opportunity to bring his mouth to your neck, licking and sucking until he finds your sweet spot. He knows he’s got it when your hips stutter their steady motion against his crotch. 

“That feel good baby?” Charlie being a dirty talker was not on your bingo card. “You gotta tell me or I’ll stop.” He gently nips at your neck, prodding you.

“Yes,” You breathlessly let out. “Please don’t stop, don’t stop.” Charlie takes great satisfaction in you begging him. 

“You gonna let me slide in that pretty pussy?” His words awaken the memory of you not shaving your vagina before, in hopes of staying out of this situation. 

“I didn’t shave or prep for this actually,” You slightly pull away thinking he’ll want to stop. 

“That’s even better Angel,” His response has your eyes widening before he finishes. “I’m a grown man and I prefer my women to look that way too.” 

After his revelation, you go straight for his belt and zipper. You slowly unzip his jeans before reaching in to pull out his cock. You’re pleasantly surprised to find him fully hard and leaking. You swipe the pre-cum off his tip with your thumb to taste, the look he gives you has your pussy throbbing. He can’t contain his groans when you slide him back and forth between your wet pussy lips. Your poor panties have stretched to the limit. 

Once you’re satisfied with him being putty in your hands you line up his cock to your entrance. You look him in the eyes as you slide down on him, both of you gasping as you take him. Rocking your hips on him feels so much better, the stretch he gives you makes your eyes roll back in bliss. Your hands grip his shoulders to maintain your balance, while he circles back to your clit.

Charlie has you wildly bucking against him when he finds your spot again. Your walls clench harder with every circle he makes. His other hand snakes up to the back of your neck, cradling it. The mesmerizing sight of your tits bouncing as you rode him made his balls clench. Charlie felt your pussy leaking all over his lap, he loves it. From this point on he knows he’s not gonna be able to get enough of you. 

“That’s it baby,” His words bring you closer and closer to the edge. “That’s my good girl huh?”

“Yes yes, I’m your good girl.” You could not care less how desperate you sounded. All that mattered was the way Charlie’s cock rubbed against your walls and his thumb expertly moved in circles over your clit. The only thing on your mind was chasing your orgasm. The squelching and pants filling the car only spur you on in your quest. 

Almost as if he could sense it Charlie smashes his mouth against yours right before the chord in your belly snaps. Your body is no longer yours, instead moving only on primal urges. The flips in your stomach die down slowly, like a beautiful decrescendo. He soaks in all the noises you make, both for his pleasure and to make sure you don’t get caught. The feeling of you cumming around him has him fucking up into you while you ride your high. 

You feel the tell-tale twitch of his cock before you feel him release inside you, painting your walls with his cum. The heavy breathing coming from you two signals you won’t move for a while. His neck becomes a place of solace for you, his heart rate steadily coming down from your activities. Hands rub lovingly around your back, almost putting you to sleep. 

“You know I wouldn’t mind ice cream.” You mumble into his neck.

“Whatever you want Angel.” Charlie’s low timbre soothes you.

Charlie makes the first move to get up, he tucks himself back in and gently moves you to his side before getting out. He opens the front door and comes back with some wet wipes he had in the glove compartment. Once you’re all cleaned up he works to coax you out of the back and into the front. You are knocked out as soon as he closes the door behind you.

Throughout the drive home, Charlie steals glances at you thinking he must be in some kind of dream. You are something else. Never in his adult years had he done something so reckless, but he would be lying if he said he wouldn’t do it again. 

When you wake Charlie is just turning off the car, you reach out to run your finger through his hair. He leans into your touch before presenting you with a Dairy Queen blizzard.

“Cheif Swan, you are so thoughtful.” You can’t help but pinch his cheek before you kiss him. He simply hums at you in return, but the look in his eyes tells you all you need to know. 

“C’mon let’s get you inside.” Ever the gentleman Charlie walks you to the door, leaning against the brick. 

“When’s our second date? And third?” The laugh that escapes Charlie causes you to follow suit.

“How about next Friday? After work we could go see a movie.” He watches as you smile brightly at him, leaning down to plant one last kiss on you. “Night Angel.”

“Goodnight Charlie.” He waits for you to go inside and doesn’t head back to the car until he hears the lock click into place. 

[thefiery-phoenix]

PLATONIC YANDERE POTTER FAMILY X READER X WEASLEY FAMILY

In this AU, Harry's parents are well alive

You'd most probably meet the Potter family first before meeting the Weasley family and I have a feeling that they'd be friends with each other. You'd meet the Potter family on the day Harry was going to Hogwarts, James did have quite a legacy at Hogwarts for being one of the best Quidditch seekers the Gryffindor Quidditch team ever had. Harry was looking forward to follow in his footsteps and the two of you met at the Kings' Cross Station. Your parents couldn't come with you to drop you off because they had an important business meeting with some client in Switzerland and they left you with your aunt who only dropped you off at the station and took off almost immediately, leaving you all by yourself surrounded with complete strangers. You've never been to Kings' Cross Station before and you had no idea where in the name of Merlin was platform 9 3/4. You've asked the Station master nearby and he thought you were just messing with him and pranking him which was why he just shooed you away

You were at a loss, you didn't know what to do and whom to contact, it wasn't like you were given an official guide as to where the platform was. You started panicking, thinking that the Hogwarts Express would be leaving without you any minute and you'd miss your wonderful chance to go to Hogwarts. You couldn't help but blink back a few tears of frustration as you felt that the situation was spinning out of control. You sighed and sat down on a bench for a moment to think about what to do next. You spotted a family of 3, a young boy of your age wearing glasses with a scar on his head, along with his parents, a man who resembled the boy's appearance, his father perhaps and his mother with hair as Red as the autumn leaves were accompanying their son with his trolley. "Blimey Harry, can't believe you're going to Hogwarts. Time does fly by fast" said James dramatically as he wiped his fake tears away

His wife, Lily glared at him and whispered "Shh... what if someone hears?" "It'll be all right, muggles don't know a damn thing about platform 9 and 3 quarters and Hogwarts and all that" he waved airily as they walked past you. An idea suddenly formed and took shape in your head as you followed them and when you finally caught up to them, you spoke "Umm... hi there, good morning. I was wondering if you could please direct me to where platform 9 and 3 quarters is...I know it exists, I just can't find it..." you finished with a forlorn look on your face as they stared at you in amazement for a moment and they had a silent discussion with each other through their eyes. You were indeed, one of them. "Don't worry dear, we'll help you. Where are your parents though?" enquired Lily as you replied "They're in Switzerland at the moment" "Oh...who came to drop you off then?" asked James as you answered "My aunt. She had some work to do back at her law firm. She's a lawyer so... it's just me by myself" you laughed slightly as they felt sad. Even though they just met you, Harry could already sense you were a bit upset and sad about something, the way your eyes had that wistful and wishful lost look in them, James and Lily didn't think too kindly about your aunt and your parents either at the moment

Attending Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry and boarding the Hogwarts Express for the very first time was a magical once in a lifetime experience which would be memorable in one's life. How could your so called family just abandon you like that without even taking the time off from their work to even see you off properly? And did your family not care about your safety at all? What about all the dangerous and unknown strangers lurking around? The society and world these days isn't really that safe you know especially for sweet little things such as yourself. They decided to accompany you and show you the ropes as you tagged along with them and felt grateful that you'd finally catch your train in time

You noticed Harry's scar and when you asked him how he got it, he just had a sheepish smile on his face and replied "I was trying to catch a snitch at the Diagon Alley on my broom and I accidentally crash landed at Borgin and Burkes near Knockturn alley. The owner wasn't really that pleased with me when I smashed some of his stuff but the incident did kind of catch on with the other witches and wizards from the magical world. Some thought it was amusing and they think I'll follow in my dad's footsteps to become a great seeker like him" "What's a seeker?" you asked him with a confused and bewildered expression on your face. He stared at you for a moment and then it dawned upon him that you could have spent your life living with muggles and you probably had no idea what he was talking about. However no matter, he'd show you and teach you everything

You guys reached the platform just in time and you thanked them for their help as Lily hugged you and smiled "Enjoy yourself dear. Stay safe and have fun but don't get into any trouble" your heart warmed at her words, it was the sort of advice a mother would give to her child before sending them off into the real world all by themselves. You nodded as you boarded the train with Harry, saying your farewell and goodbyes to the Potter family. James and Lily couldn't get you off their minds for some reason, they were concerned with your safety and wondered if you were being treated well at home. Perhaps they'd better write to Harry after he reached Hogwarts to check up on you and update them about you. Just to be safe

You were talking with Harry and your conversation was interrupted when a ginger haired boy around your age dressed in black robes, with freckles on his face peeked in and spoke "Excuse me, do you mind? Everyone else's is full..." "Not at all" replied Harry as he motioned for the guy to take a seat in front of him. "I'm Ron by the way. Ron Weasley" he introduced himself as Harry introduced himself and you introduced yourself as well. The three of you were engaged in discussions when the sliding door opened again and this time, a girl with brown hair asked if any of you had seen a toad, a boy named Neville had lost one. The three of you said you hadn't spotted a toad and when she saw the wand in Ron's hand, she spoke "Oh, you're doing magic? Let's see it then" with an interested look on her face. Ron glanced at the two of you nervously but composed himself as he straightened his posture and uttered a spell which you were pretty sure wasn't even real because instead of turning his pet rat Scabbers yellow, he just made it frightened and it started scampering around everywhere till he finally managed to calm it down

The girl introduced herself as Hermione Granger and she disappeared after she told you three to change into your robes. You finally reached Hogwarts after a few hours and you were speechless by the magnificence and splendor before you. It looked exactly like the sort of castles in your bedtime stories your mother used to read for you when you were little, before she wasn't too preoccupied with her work and had time for you. You went along with the other first years led by a giant of a man named Hagrid who you thought was quite nice and friendly. Then the head of the Gryffindor house, Minerva McGonagall who was also the Transfiguration professor gave you all some background information about the houses

"Slytherin is filled with dark wizards and witches. And crackpots too" whispered Ron to you and you felt nervous, you didn't want to get sorted into Slytherin and lose your new friends. Professor McGonagall then asked you all to wait for a few moments as she needed to get some things ready for the sorting ceremony and as soon as she left, a blonde haired guy spoke "So it's true then, the sayings on the train... Harry Potter has come to Hogwarts" as everyone looked at him in surprise and muttered among themselves. "This is Crabbe and Goyle. And I'm Malfoy... Draco Malfoy" as he introduced himself and Ron snickered in a not so subtle manner. Of course Draco heard it and wasn't really pleased with his reaction as he sneered at him. " You think my name's funny do you? There's no need to ask yours... red hair, a hand me down robe... you must be a Wealsey..." as he turned back to Harry and spoke "You'll have to know by now that there are some Wizarding families that are better than the others Potter. You're a part of the Sacred 28 after all,you don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort..." and glared at Ron again

You barely knew Malfoy for 5 minutes when you intervened "I'm sorry, what exactly makes a family a part of the Sacred 28? And Harry can make his decisions for himself. Of course, if you were a part of a Sacred family, your values and morals would be decent as well. Else you wouldn't be insulting people right off the bat as soon as you meet them". Some of the first years around you 'ooohed' when you said that as Malfoy's face grew hot and red with anger as he snarled "Stay out of this. No one asked you for your opinion" and you just rolled your eyes in response. Harry and Ron stared in amazement at your courage as Hermione was observing the scene from a distance away. It was your first day at Hogwarts and you were already getting ready to fight? She looked on rather disapprovingly but part of her admired your courage and loyalty for your friends by standing up for them. Which was why she also gripped her wand in her pockets just in case she could pull it out if the situation got out of hand. She didn't want anything happening to you for some reason

It was time for the sorting at long last, the moment you've been waiting for and Harry, Ron and Hermione were sorted into the Gryffindor house whereas Malfoy was sorted into the Slytherin house. The sorting hat was placed on top of your head and it muttered "Hmm.... interesting. Very very interesting...." as you nervously looked up at it and asked "What is?" "In all my years of sorting students into houses, you're truly something. You have bravery, courage and loyalty, fit to be a Gryffindor and yet, that cheek, determination and lots and lots of ambition to make you a Slytherin. Plenty of brains, the curiosity and hunger for knowledge is in there as well, you'd do well in Ravenclaw. You're also kind hearted and have the good old nature that Helga Hufflepuff was talking  about...hmm... where to put you?" it asked you

It was quite an interesting predicament because never before did anyone see the sorting hat have trouble sorting someone into a house. Everyone looked at you with bated breath as you could feel everyone's eyes on you which made you a bit conscious of yourself but you tried your best to ignore the feeling. The headmaster, Albus Dumbledore was watching you quite closely as professor Snape, the Potions professor seemed interested as well. After a few moments of deliberation, the sorting hat finally sorted you into Gryffindor which you felt relieved about. Harry, Ron and Hermione felt immensely glad that you were in the same house along with them. You felt an exhilarating feeling course through your body when everyone clapped for you as you joined the Gryffindor table. You were introduced to the Wealsey siblings present there, Percy Wealsey, the third oldest who was the Gryffindor prefect, Fred and George the twins who were overly fond of pranking people and you made a mental note to not get on their bad side. The last thing you needed was to wake up with horns on your head or something or a tail for that matter

Harry, Ron, Hermione and you became fast friends pretty quick but you refused to talk with them when they didn't include you in the quest for the Philosopher's stone. It broke their hearts but it was for your own good,you couldn't be put in danger like that. They cared for you too much and it drove them crazy when you ignored them or just glared at them angrily and stormed off. You finally softened a bit towards them when they said that they didn't want to put you in danger and they just wanted you to be safe. You started hanging out with them again as usual and they were elated, the days you refused to even spare them a second glance was utter torture for them. Harry, Ron and Hermione were like your three overprotective shadows, always around you no matter what. They've appointed themselves as your official caretakers and grew possessive and obsessive of you really quick

Harry wrote to his parents about you regularly as Ron did to his parents as well. During Christmas your parents forgot to send you your Christmas presents and you felt heartbroken. Harry, Ron and Hermione were mad as hell so they pitched in and got you some treats from the Great Hall and a few Christmas goodies of your own like a journal from Hermione, a cute quill set from Ron and from Harry, a book he thought you might be interested to read along with an encouraging note from all three of them. Of course they've mentioned to their parents that you haven't received any gifts for Christmas and you've received dozens of parcels from the Potter family and the Wealsey family, even though you hardly knew them. But they knew everything about you, more than you could know about yourself. You've received puddings, Tarts, cakes, pastries, sweaters, a maroon jumper with a W stitched on it and a snowglobe with a cute tiny snowman inside it. You felt grateful for their presents and sad at the same time for your own parents and family forgetting about you just like that

You were even more crushed when your parents said that they needed to go to France for a work conference and your aunt would be preoccupied with a huge case in the muggle world which meant you couldn't go back home. You were pretty devastated when you were invited by Ron to spend time with his family as Harry stated that his parents would join them at the Weasley's house for a couple of days. You agreed and upon reaching the Wealsey house, you could feel the warmth and homely feeling the atmosphere radiated. It certainly did give off homely vibes. You wished your family was also like this. You were introduced to Molly, who hugged you and spoke "So you're the famous Y/N my Ronald keeps talking about all the time... it's so nice to finally meet you dear" as Ron heatedly yelled out "MUM!" as Fred and George snickered in the background, whispering about how Ron was a simp for you as he told them to shut up

You were even introduced to Arthur Weasley, the father of Ron and the other Wealsey siblings who worked at the Ministry of magic, Bill Weasley who worked as a curse breaker at Gringotts the Wizarding bank in Egypt, Charlie Wealsey who worked with dragons in Romania which you found extremely fascinating. There was also young Ginny Weasley, who'd be starting Hogwarts next year. She was shy at first but she really opened up to you and she had fun being around you. The Weasley family loved and enjoyed your presence, it felt like you were part of their family already

Percy could see you becoming a head boy/ girl or prefect and he wanted to become your guide but Fred and George kept stealing you away to their room to show you their latest inventions. They loved it when your eyes sparkle and light up in curiosity, they feel proud when you take in interest in their inventions as do the other Wealseys when you enquired about their hobbies and pastimes. Molly wouldn't even let you step out of the house when it was time for De- gnoming the garden, she didn't want you getting injured and everyone agreed that it would be best for you if you'd stayed in while they'd take care of the business

A few days later James and Lily showed up at the Burrow and greeted you warmly as all of you sat down together and discussed various things over some nice hot steaming bowls of soup and a scrumptious feast laid out by Molly and Lily. When you were asked about your love life by Ginny, you literally choked on your soup as Molly patted you on the back and James handed you a glass of water. "Ginevra, that isn't a question for the dinner table" said Molly with a death stare as everyone present there became very interested in what you had to say. "Believe it or not, some guy from our Potions class, Troy Mullers asked me out for Valentine's day" "What did you say?" asked Hermione as everyone felt that sudden protective urge to make sure you were safe by all means necessary, even if it meant getting that Troy schmuck out of the way. They won't stand for someone to romantically court you, you were too kind and innocent to have your heart and feelings being taken for a ride by some random immature guy you barely even knew

"I... I rejected him. He wasn't happy about it and he called me all sorts of mean names but... it's not something I'm not used to" you shrugged it off as they all felt anger course through their veins. Who dared to make you sad and upset by calling you mean names and hurt your feelings? In fact Charlie was ready to send a Hungarian Horntail after them and Fred and George would send them Howlers after Holwers and packages with explosive Dungbombs from Zonkos, the Wizarding joke shop that go off as soon as you open the parcel. They were seething and they all came to a single conclusion, you had to be taken under their care for your own good. And judging by the way your so called family was treating you, you wouldn't want to be spend more time with them anymore which was a huge favor for them. Besides, what good is a family if they can't take care of you? Don't worry dear, they'll look after you and care for you like their very own. You've become a part of their families now whether you wanted to or not and it's like they say, family ALWAYS comes first...

[floralemi12]

This is my first time writing, so please be kind :) let me know anymore hotch x reader or criminal minds x reader stories you want to see💗

The bad morning

Y/N was having bad morning. Her car broke down, so she had to take the metro, and to top it all off, as soon as she stepped out of the platform, the clouds broke and down came heavy rainfall, soaking her from top to bottom. That’s how she found herself rushing through the bullpen, and practically throwing herself at her desk.

“Rough morning” Derek teased, from where he was sat at his own desk. “Rough life” y/n groaned, trying to ring her clothes out from the rain. “What happened sugar plum?” Garcia asked, dropping a fresh cup of coffee onto y/n’s desk. “Thank you” she smiled appreciatively. “Just a bad morning” she added, taking a sip. “I’m sorry, do you need anything?” Garcia smiled, wiping some of the dripping mascara from underneath y/n’s eye. “I’m okay, I think I’m just going to change into some clothes from my go bag” y/n said, reaching underneath her bag for the bag in question.

Without saying anything else y/n stalked off to the bathrooms, bumping into a chest as she went. “Sorry.. sorry!” She quickly apologised. “you okay?” A familiar voice asked, she looked up to see who she had bumped into, and was met with the face of her long time crush, and boss, Hotch. “I’m fine, sorry” she rushed out, taking a step back. “What happened?” He asked, taking in her appearance. “Ugh, a bad morning” she sighed, wanting to get out of her clothes, and forget about her terrible morning. “Is there anything I can do?” Hotch asked her, hating the sad look that had appeared in her eyes. It took him by surprise when he saw the state of her, the normally happy, carefree woman, looking frazzled, he missed the smile that he was used to her sporting. “No I’m okay, thank you Hotch, I’m just going to change and I’ll be good as new” she smiled up at him, before continuing to the bathroom.

A few hours later, a fresh outfit, and a dozen files of paperwork completed, y/n stretched her arms above her head before standing from her desk. “Anyone want any coffee?” She asked, looking over at her team. “Me please!” Spencer smiled, a chorus of agreement from Derek and Emily followed. Y/n made her way to the kitchenette to start a fresh pot of coffee, taking out 4 mugs and preparing them each to how her friends like it. Once she was done, she handed them out and returned to her desk, only to find it with a small box, which definitely wasn’t there before. “Huh?” She whispered to herself, opening up the box to find a singular, cupcake with rainbow sprinkles, her favourite. Looking around, she took note to see if anyone was watching her, trying to figure out who the mysterious sender was. Not noticing anything suspicious, she shrugged and accepted the cupcake with a real smile on her face for the first time that day.

Unbeknownst to her, a pair of eyes were watching her through the slit in his office blinds, wearing a grin that he wouldn’t admit to anyone, as he saw the happy expression make its way back onto her face.

Just as y/n finished the sweet treat, her phone buzzed from beside her on the desk. Picking it up she saw the familiar contact name of her boss and couldn’t help the grin that followed.

Boss Man: I hope it made up for your bad day :)

[the-kr8tor]

Heatwave

Feat: The cats 😺😻😾

Pairing: Hobie Brown x gn! Reader/ Spider-Punk x gn! Reader

Word count: 1.7k

Synopsis: You and Hobie try to survive a record breaking heatwave.

Tags: no use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, established relationship, some miscommunication, FLUFF, lovestruck Hobie.

A continuation of this fic

My Masterlist

*I don't consent to having my work translated/ published on other platforms*

You groan loudly, as if it helps make the air cooler, but alas it doesn't work that way. It certainly doesn't help that the air-conditioning in your building completely fizzled out last night, resulting in you and Hobie waking up sweaty and grumpy.

You breathe heavily through the humidity, but the sweltering heat doesn't make it any easier.

The cats don't help too, especially that they're currently blocking the air flow from your single working fan. Crumpet,Teacup and Crowley lay sprawled across a cooling mat, Crowley looks back at you every minute or so, checking to see if you've melted into a puddle.

Teacup, the ever spoiled baby, mewls towards you, as if to say it's time for their hourly wipe of their paws with a cold damp cloth. She's lucky you love her. She's been relishing the attention lately, especially time spent with Hobie, you can't help but get jealous sometimes, this is what Hobie probably feels like with Crowley attached to your hip.

You reluctantly stand up, stretching to your full height, arms wide, you cringe at the sweat clinging to your back, arms, legs and clothes, it's safe to say you're covered in it. You grimace at how tacky your clothes feel on you, your tank top must look like an abstract painting from behind. You lick your lips in a futile attempt to keep them moist, feeling the cracks of skin underneath your tongue.

You grab the designated cloth to soak it in the sink, at the same time you open the fridge to grab another ice pack. Thank goodness you have a stock of them for whenever Hobie comes home bruised. You wish you don't have an abundance of it though, you hate it when Hobie gets hurt.

Teacup meows loudly, telling you to hurry up.

"Alright, alright! 'm coming, you big baby" not noticing your words slurring together. You lift up the cloth, wringing off the excess water.

You stride towards the cats, carefully patting the cloth on their paws, while checking their fur for any tangles. Making sure their water bowls aren't empty.

After rubbing their paws you move to pet Crumpet, moving your fingers on her head, and scratching behind her ear. She purrs under your touch.

You're concerned about Crumpet, she's a lot older than the other two, so you're taking more time to be more attentive towards her.

You rub her thick fur absentmindedly, the air from the fan blowing on your lashes. Your mind wanders back to Hobie, how is he faring in this temperature? Especially in his suit, you practically had to beg him to leave his leather vest at home.

"I always wear it, love, I don't feel complete without it"

"Yeah, I know for the aesthetic," you change your tone, you don't want to fight, "but damn it, just for today please, I don't want you getting heatstroke" you sigh at his stubbornness.

For added effect Crumpet meows at Hobie, backing you up.

Hobie sighs in defeat, "fine," he drops the vest haphazardly over your bed, you think he's mad.

He leans over kissing your cheek, it's too hot to give you a proper kiss, you curse at the temperature, depriving you of affection. "don't forget to drink water, yeah?"

"Mmhm, you too. Take breaks, okay?" you move to hug him, but you recoil your hands back, thinking the added heat might make him more agitated. Hobie thinks you're mad at him.

You wanted to convince him to leave his leather boots and wear his trainers instead, but it might've been all in vain, since he's already opening the window to swing away.

That was hours ago, you hope he's okay, and keeping hydrated. You wish he wasn't mad at you.

Putting the ice pack on your head, you lean against your sofa, watching the cats stay cool.

You zone out, not hearing the familiar thump of heavy boots.

Hobie thinks you're ignoring him, shit you look mad, your face scrunched up into a scowl, sweat dripping on your forehead.

He crosses the small distance, the cats lay sprawled on their mat, the only indication that they noticed him is their heads slightly following his movements, even Crowley refuses to scowl at him. It's hot even for the little hell spawn.

Hobie grabs the cool can inside his little plastic bag, it rustles, but you still haven't looked at him. Fuck he should've kissed you goodbye better.

You feel the cold can on your cheek, waking you up from your daze. You feel sluggish. Craning your neck towards Hobie, you give him a small smile.

"Hey, you're home, early" your eyes slightly glossy.

"Yeah, even villains are too hot to commit crime" he notices your eyes, "when did you last drink water?"

You grab the cold can of soda from his hands, your hands shake trying to open the lid. "Um, I'm about to drink now"

"Shit, sweetheart, that's not enough" he grabs the can from your hands, earning a small "hey" from you. "Let me get you some water, yeah?"

Hobie rushes towards the kitchen, shit how long have you last drank? You must've been too busy taking care of the cats that you forgot about yourself. He doesn't blame you though, those cats are your family. He should've checked in on you on one of his breaks.

Glass in hand, he webs himself towards the living room, so he can get to you faster. You hate it when Hobie leaves his webs inside, but he'll apologize and clean it up later.

Hobie brings the cold glass to your chapped lips, you empty it in a flash, water drips from your chin, he wipes it with his thumb.

"There, you're gonna feel better in a minute" he sighs when color comes back to your lips.

"Can I have the soda now?" You tilt your head prettily.

Hobie opens the can for you before giving it back, "lemme change and I'll get you another glass, yeah?" He rubs the sweat clinging on to your eyebrows, messing up the strands. He chuckles at your unruly brows.

"What's so funny?" You pout against the mouth of the can.

"Nothing" he pecks your forehead, ignoring the sweat. That kiss will have to do for now, he has to make up a lot of kisses for the lack of love he gave you that morning.

Hobie basically tears his suit off him, sweat clings inside, he should shower. He should also try and fix your aircon, but he doesn't want to leave your side, you were on the brink of heat stroke when he arrived, Hobie needs to watch over you till you're better, and the cats need attention too, he still hasn't won over Crowley yet. He's made it his personal mission since he met the rascal.

Crowley settles next to you, the fog clouding your mind slowly dissipating. You sigh with your eyes closed.

"Oi no sleeping" Hobie places another cold glass in your hands in exchange for the soda. He's now wearing an old band shirt that he's kept at your place. Hobie doesn't have shorts, so he just went for his boxers.

He sits next to you, with Crowley in between. Hobie stretched his legs in front of him, his toned legs in full display.

"Here," Hobie hands you a fresh cloth "nevermind c'mere" you happily lean towards him, "you need to take care of yourself too y'know" He dabs the cloth on your neck, drying it.

"I know," you sigh "I was just worried about the cats and you, it must've been hard being in that heat all day"

He hums too engrossed in wiping you dry. You take this as Hobie still being angry at you.

"Are you still mad at me?" You ask in a small voice. wringing your hands anxiously.

"What?" He stops his movements, "I thought you were the one who's angry" he grabs your hands, smoothing the skin with his thumbs, trying to calm your thoughts. "Why would I be mad?"

"Because of the vest thing" you look up at him through your lashes. "I thought, you might've looked at it like I'm trying to change you, I'm not, I like you just the way you are"

Crowley watches the scene with pensive eyes. Crumpet sneezes in her sleep, while teacup curls near Hobie's foot.

"I'm not mad about that, I understand you were looking out for me, and I was too bloody stubborn" he kisses each of your knuckles, his warm breath calms your nerves. You know he isn't good with his words, sometimes opting for showing what he means through his actions.

" 'm not mad either, I shouldn't have pushed you" you lay your head against the couch cushion.

"Nah, I want you to make me, you keep me in line, love. You're right I would've gotten heatstroke with it on" he softly lays your hands on Crowley, he returns to his previous action, wiping at the soft skin on your hip.

"Imagine, I fainted while swinging" he jokes but you glare at him.

"Not funny, Hobart"

"Now, you're mad" He chuckles as he moves the cloth over your nose.

"Augh!" You swat at the piece of wet cloth "that's disgusting!"

"It's your own sweat, lovey" Hobie smiles lopsidedly.

"Next time, wear your trainers instead of boots too?" You ask shyly.

"Alright, for you, yeah"

You nod, finally convincing him "you took care of yourself out there?" You cup his jaw, making circular patterns over his skin with your thumb.

"Yeah, took breaks, hydrated, can't say the same thing for you though"

"I know, I'll do better next time" you sigh, thumping your head on his shoulder.

"Oi" he shakes you with his shoulder "I still owe you that kiss"

You laugh, Crowley perks up at the sound "and I still owe you a hug"

"What are you waiting for? Come up here and get it" a smile creeping on the corner of his lips.

You lean up, head staying on his shoulder, Hobie does all the work, he cranes his neck down as he holds the back of your head, guiding you towards his lips. You sigh into his lips, ignoring the sweat forming on his upper lip.

You cling on to his shirt, slowly moving your arms around him, he kisses deeper.

By some sort of miracle the aircon comes to life, blowing much needed cold air into your flat. You both decide to ignore it, while you climb on his lap, so his neck wouldn't strain. He holds your back, anchoring you.

Crowley meows at the both of you trying to get your attention away from Hobie.

A/N: thanks for reading! Hope you liked it! Likes and reblogs are always appreciated ❤️❤️❤️

*picture above is from pinterest*

My requests are open! Check out my rules.

[meiideryz]

sounds of strings.

pairing: liu yangyang x reader

length: 2.68k

synopsis: yangyang is a man who would completely back off from people his friends like, but not this one.

tags: alternative universe, rock band au, wayv ensemble, unrequited love, rockstar!yangyang ft. hendery, one-sided attraction, implied pining, house partying, yangyang is head over heels for you consented, drunk kissing, slight heavy make-out session, alcohol consumption, mentions of vulgar/foul words.

note: the plot idea came from my sibling who intended to make this as a xhy social media au to be posted on another platform (if you are interested in reading it, please anticipate later on in twitter!), so i was granted permission to write their favorite part of the plot to see how it would turn out, and here it is!

yangyang couldn't understand why every person he knows is so drawn to him but not you.

he was that rockstar who played his maroon matted electric guitar in big bars to perform on stage. he was that rockstar that everyone would talk about in broad daylight. he loved the way people would get excited seeing him at his gigs and get asked to take pictures with him. 

but the fact that out of all people, you don't show interest in him in the slightest bit upsets him. 

one of his friends was hosting a party later tonight, and he was asked to perform at their place. yangyang made sure to dress nicely in case you were coming to see him perform. 

when he and his band arrived, you were already there chilling in the backyard; drinking, talking, having fun with your friends. wanting to approach you, he took a step forward with a gentle smile on his face that was completely wiped off as soon as his other band member snaked his arm around your waist. the man holding you closer to an intimate position which led you to place your palms on his chest. 

“hey, beautiful.” 

right, he exactly understood why you never had interest in him. 

he had no choice but to watch hendery spew out sweet words to you. he stared at your reddened cheeks, letting out a nervous breathy laugh while the man before you held you still with a hand on your hip. 

“we’re about to perform, cheer for me?” the way hendery held eye contact with you was long and arousing. yangyang couldn’t handle watching anymore, tearing his eyes away from the scene, leaving the band member alone. 

as he walked towards the set where they were gonna perform, the sound of short breaths coming from his back until a hand grabbed on his shoulders to stop him. 

“why'd you leave me there?” hendery asked, there was laughter in his tone, which made yangyang roll his eyes. he took the maroon electric guitar in his grasp before turning on the amplifier beside him to adjust the sounds. 

“jealous, perhaps?” a question that kept him still in his spot.

yangyang knew he was trying to insinuate things, but he also knew that he wasn't wrong for that. although his friend had his eyes for you, yangyang wanted you, too- despite how impossible it was considering the fact that you were at the brink of being wrapped around hendery’s finger.

“i don't have time for that,” prompted him, his tone sounded harsh and rude, but the latter never questioned. “you know, what i want you to do right now is to get the others. we'll be performing in 10 minutes.” completely deviating from the topic, a sigh left the latter's lips before leaving the guitarist alone in the area to set up the instruments. 

when yangyang performed on stage, he scanned the crowd in search of you because seeing you always left him in excitement, thrill, and motivation. he wanted to impress you so much that during their performance, he turned the volume knob up to blast the sounds of his electric guitar, purposely overpowering the other instruments being showcased by his band mates. they would give him stares, but he didn’t care. 

what matters to yangyang is that everyone would get on their feet and jump to the beat, and there he could see you, just watching the band perform. 

his heart raced, finally getting your attention as you stared at him. it saddened him by how impassive you were, and to fix that, he flashed you a smile before going back to strum his fingers on the strings of the instrument. his charismatic image sparked the performance, causing the people to remarkably cheer for the band that gave him a content look on his face. yangyang grinned when you looked away, as he wondered if your cheeks heated up under the flashing color fairy lights shining and blinking above. 

by the time they were finished, the band got off stage to have their time to rest too. hendery left to get the drinks, ten followed to get the food, and kun thanked the host for letting them perform at their house party. 

the rockstar sat in one of the tables in the corner while the next performing band played a soothing jazz genre in the background. a helmet resting beside his clothed thigh while he thumbed over the motor gloves he was wearing in his hands. he inspected the area, finally looking in your direction at the other side of the yard as he watched you talking to your friends. he was so fixated on you, and wondered why you didn't feel the same.

moments passed after casually having a conversation with kun, his eyes found their way back to the direction where you previously were, only to find no one. 

he looked back at the latter, “hey uhm, i'm going back inside, really need to use the restroom right now.” 

getting the chance to excuse himself, he headed inside the house through the crowd. the pulsating of his heart throbbed from the loud beats coming from the speaker that is somewhere around the room that didn't matter to him. 

walking through the crowds was such a hassle to get to the other room, his voice low and soft as he gently pushed through people. it took him a while to do so, the room was illuminated by led lights so it was hard for him to find the exit area to the next room with such minimal source of light.

once he arrived at the corridor, the roaring sounds of screaming filled the room next to him. of course, hendery's voice can't go unnoticed. yangyang exhaled, walking past the door, not feeling the need to come inside and deal with the latter's drunken state. he then continued to find where the restroom is. it could possibly be upstairs, but he might end up witnessing something that he shouldn't need or might regret seeing. 

avoiding the 2nd floor, he continued searching for an available restroom. when he finally found one, he wasted no second getting inside, instantly reminding himself that he got here with a motorbike, and he couldn't risk getting into an accident from drinking too much. yangyang faced the dirty mirror that was filled with smudges of fingerprints and lipsticks. not that he minded it, it was a party after all, he expected these to happen in a house party.

opening the faucet, he removed the leather gloves from each hand, placing it aside before gathering a normal amount of water in his palms, splashing it to his face to try and sober himself up. he repeated the procedure several more times before wiping his face with a clean towel he found in the drawers. 

as he was about to turn off the faucet, the door beside him swung open. startling the rockstar, he reacted quickly, backing away from the door with a wide-eyed expression. then the look on his face softened, finding you holding onto the doorknob. 

he watched as your legs couldn't hold you up anymore, with one step your body launching forward to the ground. “fuck!” yangyang instinctively held his arms out to catch you, preventing you from falling on the floor. 

“i got you, i got you.” he repeated, assuring you in an embrace where you nuzzled yourself in his chest, letting out a laugh as your hands were placed around his shoulders. he heard you slur, telling him how good he was at playing the guitar, following with how good he was with his fingers. yangyang felt like his mind was going blank, hearing some very vulgar words you were whispering to him that he wouldn't even dare to think about.

you really were that drunk. 

yangyang's cheeks heated up, shifting in his position to hold you properly in his arms. “god, what have you been drinking this whole time?” 

“red juice,” you beamed in between hiccups and sniffles. because of the proximity, yangyang couldn't help but feel his heart race at how close you were to him. you were really pretty up close and he wished he could just stare at you for how long he wanted— but you needed help right now and gaping at you wasn’t the best option in this situation.

“hey, let’s get you sober up, okay?” his arms moved down to your thighs, holding it firmly before lifting you up to place you on the restroom counter. your hands never parted away from his neck, instead, you interlock your hands together as you keep clinging onto him, making it harder for yangyang to actually help you.

“look, i’m trying to help you here,” he sighed, his hands going up to clasp around your wrists, trying to pull it down. “your friends might also be looking for you.”

“i don’t care.” you responded, following with a hiccup leaving your lips. “i’m here with you, and that’s all that matters.”

even if yangyang wanted to believe that, you were drunk. he knew what you were like towards him if you weren’t wasted at all with all that drinking. he did wish that there was more to what you stated, as some people said that one’s true feelings unveil when they’re under the influence.

“y-you’re drunk, you don't mean that.” he tried to pull your arms away from him for the second time, only for you to pull him closer.

yangyang's breath hitched, finding himself entangled in an embrace with his face inches to yours, the invitation of your lips tempting him to close the gap.

he composed himself, his arms caging in between your body as his palms rested on the counter to balance himself. as much as the desire was kicking in, he wouldn't do such a thing to you especially of how intoxicated you were, your vulnerability lay bare before him.

“come on, i need to help you and you need to help yourself. we’ve been here for god knows how long and people might start looking for—”

a pair of lips brushed against his. his completely blown pupils dilating at the action as the way you slid your tongue against his bottom lip melted him entirely, his soul leaving his body at that very moment.

yangyang was a nervous trainwreck at this point, not sure whether to push you away or to reciprocate. no matter how much he wanted you so bad, he wouldn’t want to be in conflict with someone who also liked you, especially hendery. he was a man who would completely back off from people his friends like, but not this one. the drummer had already expressed to the rest of the band that he liked you for too long, yet how he craved for your flavored chapstick smearing over his lips, your mouth driving him insane, and shared breaths between kisses was something he yearned for in every way.

he had fallen hook, line, and sinker.

fuck it, hendery won’t know.

it didn't take long before yangyang returned the kiss. he fluttered his eyes closed as he matched the pace of your lips while his hands traveling to grip the sides of your hips to hold you still. he wasn't so sure anymore if he was still sober, but one thing he is certain is how much he felt drunk from the make-out session.

the air around him turned hot, and somehow your hands were now on his hair, tugging it lightly, pulling him closer. his nails digging into the cloth covering your skin. how he wanted to get that thing away, but he eventually didn't as he just wanted to concentrate on your lips over his.

it was merely a perfect mold to his. both lips moved with such passion and hunger for each other as your tongue slipped into his mouth with ease, causing the rockstar to let out a breathy moan.

he felt his heart thumping against his ribs and your chest the more you tried to close the gap between you. the rhythm of both lips turned sloppy, messy, and fiery, craning his neck to deepen the kiss. yangyang knew that once he broke the kiss, he would never get to feel your lips on his again— yet his lungs were screaming at him, begging and seeking for air.

yangyang's chest heaved up and down, finally abandoning your lips to catch his own breath. his sweaty forehead covered in his bangs rested against yours, completely worn out and drained while his hot breath fanned over your mouth.

“you know, you and i are going to regret this when we wake up tomorrow.” he mumbled through exhales. you laughed in return, and it was such a pleasant sound for the rockstar.

an hour passed by and everyone soon left the party, including you. yangyang carried his things to the truck of kun’s car along with the other instruments and equipment. he gave a double pat on the shiny steel of the vehicle. “there you go, take care of roxanne for me.”

kun scrunched his nose up at the name, an eyebrow raised while looking at him. “roxanne?”

“my guitar.”

“...right.” kun's gaze went back to the front window of his car, the key that was inside the ignition key was pulled back out after he had started the engine. yangyang could see hendery and ten's sleeping silhouette in the backseat through the tinted windows, tired after all the performing, eating, and drinking.

“where were you a while ago? i was looking for you after i found out you've been gone for too long,” the former questioned, which made the latter feel a lump in his throat. 

“sorry,” he apologized, “i went up to the balcony to use some stig.”

“oh, well...are you coming with us?” kun asked, hands gripped on the stirring wheel. yangyang refused, waving his hands at him and indicating the three to leave without the rockstar. “i came with my motorbike, i'd be fine alone.” signaling them to go, kun made no second thoughts before driving away from the party, leaving him alone with his motorcycle just around the corner.

he walked back into the backyard where he found his friend and other people cleaning up the area, picking up the used cups and plates on the grass. his hand grasped onto the helmet that he left a while ago during the party as he carefully placed it on his head, adjusting the helmet so that it wasn't too loose nor too tight to wear.

“i’ll get going, thank you!” he yelled out, calling his friend's attention, to which the latter smiled, acting out a salute gesture to acknowledge his presence and bid farewell.

yangyang set his foot out to leave the house, and there he saw his motorcycle at the side that awaited him. he made sure to look at the road before crossing, not wanting to run into some vehicles like he did last time.

the keys in his pants jingled as he took it out, inserting it into the ignition to start the engine of his motorbike. he ensured that his extra helmet was inside the storage under his seat before hopping on, and once he did, he left the area.

he crashed into his bed by the time he arrived at his apartment, and when he woke up this morning, his head throbbed from the massive hangover he had last night. he found himself tucked with the velvet covers of his mattress, his throat dry and itchy, and the oppressive force of his headache squeezing his head tightly.

his phone that was on the nightstand next to him was filled with notifications of messages from his friends. he was met with a video clip that was sent to him and some screenshots of people commenting under the video that was uploaded in a social media platform.

then his heart dropped, watching the video of you and hendery kissing each other at the party last night.

©MEIIDERYZ 2024. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

[loycspotting]

Leaving Tumblr

Last night, my account was terminated. I don't know why. I was in the middle of using the site when suddenly I was locked out. No warnings. No announcements. Nothing. I was an absolute wreck. I couldn't eat or sleep. There was no word from Tumblr's management team. I could only explain what happened and sit on my hands. I felt utterly helpless waiting and hoping for a miracle. I had a home here. I had friends who became family. People that I love. Fandom that was my absolute joy and honor to participate in. It was all ripped away for no reason at the drop of a hat. My work. My mutuals. My home. Gone. Just like that. I couldn't say goodbye. I didn't know if or how I'd be able to find my moots again. I was able to create a second account called @loycspotting-thee2 and wracked my brain trying to remember my friends' usernames while terrified that that account would disappear too. I couldn't focus on anything. I was completely distraught. Thankfully, a miracle did happen and my account was magically reactivated. Again, no warning. No one reached out and explained what happened. One moment it was here, gone the next, then here again. In all my years of being on social media, I've never feared that a platform would kick me off like that until last night. I stayed up reading story after story of people who have used Tumblr, some of them holding accounts for YEARS with thousands of followers, logging on just to find it wiped from existence on any random day. This is a serious and repetitive issue, but not apparently to Tumblr. I may not have been a Tumblr user for long, but this incident has irrevocably broken my trust. No amount of saving and cataloging and backing up my account will protect me from being a victim of this website's carelessness. I would always have to worry if I'd be the unlucky user of the day that got their account deleted with no guarantee that it would be reactivated. I cannot and will not live in fear that everything I've created and the home I've found will be taken from me again against my will. Therefore, I have decided that the best option for me is to deactivate my account and say goodbye on my own terms. I am absolutely heartbroken to come to this decision. This has been the most unreal online space. I loved it here! It was everything I've been looking for and I only regret not signing up the first time I heard about it all those years ago. I love being in the Ewan McGregor fandom! Where it's not just a fandom. It's a fanhome 😁. I found my voice here, as well as people who heard me. People who understood me. This was my absolute favorite place to be, bar NONE. I felt fulfilled writing and reviewing. There were so many more things I wanted to do and experience with you guys. It was you who encouraged me. You listened, reblogged, commented, and messaged. You accepted me. From the bottom of my heart I love my mutuals. Even if we don't follow each other, if we've talked or interacted with each other's posts I love you too. I love the passion and creativity flowing through this site. I don't know what will happen with the Ewan McGregor Screentime Percentage project. I'm not ready to quit just yet. Maybe I'll start a Reddit or letterboxd account. Of course, for the writing, I can consider joining Ao3. If you want to keep in touch, then I implore you to message me so we can work something out. The friendships I made here are paramount to everything else. I'm going to leave this up for 9 days (or until I'm terminated again 🙄) to give myself time to get things in order. On September 1st, I will say goodbye.

[thegainingdesk]

The Grommr Profile of Dorian Grey

Dorian finished the last chicken wing, delicately wiping his hands with a napkin, before dabbing at the sides of his mouth. “And one hundred!” He beamed at the camera, and rubbed his middle, not-so-subtly lifting his t-shirt to reveal taut, flat six-pack abs. “Guess that will sort me until dinner,” he said with a wink to his audience.

He looked at the comments on his livestream. Most were in awe, as usual, at how much he could eat while maintaining his stick-thin figure and classically handsome good looks. Others, frustratingly, accused him of being a fake - of using some contraption or camera trickery to make the food disappear, of editing in CGI food, of bullimia. He'd done live shows, week-long streams, streams in nothing but his boxers, but nothing would ever convince some of his viewers.

One in particular caught his attention: lol, why are you all commenting like he'll respond? everyone knows he films these over like a week and then edits it together after

Dorian gritted his teeth. “Actually, user WelcomeToMyFistedMind, comment at fifteen thirty-two and eighteen seconds, this is very much live. And actually, I don't think I am done quite yet.” He stood and walked to the kitchen, coming back with a box of two dozen donuts he'd bought for tomorrow's stream. He sat back down and pushed the first one into his mouth, grinning around the custard that oozed out.

Forty-five minutes and twenty-four donuts later, Dorian flashed one last smug grin at the camera and closed twitch. He leant back, lifted up his t-shirt and ran his fingers lazily up and down his treasure-trail, following the center line between his abdominals. Despite the literal pounds of food he'd eaten in the last couple of hours, his stomach was as flat as ever, his twinkish frame showing none of the effects of the food he ate day in, day out.

His channel, MukbangBangYoureDead, had exploded in viewers ever since he started it a few years ago, until he was now one of the most famous mukbangers on the internet. He could not only eat more than all of his competitors, he made it look easy, and all without gaining a pound.

Of course, he had something that they didn't - the deal. He'd been hesitant at first, didn't believe the strange visitor that had come to him one night could or would deliver on its promises. But here he was, years later, making tens of thousands of pounds a month, all without consequence.

Thinking about the deal, he opened Grommr on his phone and brought up his profile. He whistled as he saw the updated weight - 576 pounds. He'd been flirting with 570 for a while now, and was pleased to see how far he'd stepped over that threshold. Time, he thought, for an update for his loyal fans on that platform too.

He pulled his trousers off and threw them to the side, leaving his t-shirt on. He walked to the mirror and admired his toned, pencil-like legs, his lightly muscled arms, the way his t-shirt draped from broad shoulders and tight pecs over his narrow waist, and his large bulge constrained by a designer jock-strap in bright yellow. He raised his phone up and took a picture, and proceeded to take his shirt off. He raised one hand to a lightly-haired pec and gave it a squeeze as he took a second picture. Finally, he lay down on his bed, snaked some long-slender fingers into his waistband, and raised his phone to take another photo from above.

He uploaded the pictures to Grommr without even looking at them - he knew there'd be no point, that they'd look completely different in just a moment or two. They appeared one by one as they uploaded.

Each showed a behemoth of a man. In the first the man stood in a mirror, wearing a t-shirt that cut into fat hanging from his sides and strained to cover large, pendulous breasts. His gut hung out and down, covering his genitals - a small pop of yellow beneath his love handles was the only hint that he was wearing any underwear. The man's face was huge and round, his features almost amorphous. Small, piggy eyes sat above bulbous cheeks, which merged into a ring of fat around his head, his chin a mere dimple in the fat around his neck. Even in the still image, it was clear that the man's arm was straining against its own weight to hold the phone up.

The next photo was much the same. The same morbidly obese figure stood in the same mirror. This time, the pitifully small t-shirt had been discarded to reveal cascading flesh hanging to the side, lying on the mountainous belly. One hand grasped one of the tits, bloated fingers digging into the soft flesh.

In the next, the figure was laid prone. Gravity had pulled down on the soft flesh and caused it to drop down and pool around the figure. The moobs lifted up towards the man's non-existant neck and chin, his gut spread out, his face expanded in all directions. New rolls and folds had formed - where arm met shoulder, where joints bent, or where his gut bunched up against itself. In the brighter lighting, painfully red stretch marks bloomed across the man's skin, circling his thighs, his love handles like loaves, across his dropping breasts. The man's left hand struggled to reach around his gut to grasp at the waistband of a straining jock strap, within which a small bump suggested some long-forgotten nub of a cock, sunk deep within the fat that spilled out around the underwear’s pouch. The man’s face was red, and seemed to strain as he struggled to maneuver his own flesh.

Dorian watched on in boredom as the first few comments rolled in. The usual adoring fans, begging to know the secrets to his titanic weight, proclaiming they’d soon look the same, asking to meet up. He would wait until a few of his regulars sent their customary tips, then go on with the rest of his day. In the meantime, a couple of the comments caused a smile to spread across his angular face.

MayContainDonuts: MealWithTheDevil looking great as ever! I don't know what it is, but he always looks so much like that one mukbang guy? Obviously fatter, but just the eyes and nose and stuff? I wonder if they're related?

BloatGoat: Do you mean MukbangBangYoureDead? If you can find some of his old photos the resemblance is uncanny. People used to think they were the same person but obviously not. Definitely could be related!

Dorian smirked and went to close the app, stopping only to check a small notification that popped up at the top of his screen. There would be routine server maintenance the next day, and the site would be down for around eight hours, starting mid-morning for the UK.

Dorian sighed. He hated server shutdowns, and this would be the longest he'd experienced yet. Still, he had a while to prepare. He'd have to cancel some lunch plans, but he could make up some lie about being ill. He got dressed, stood up and left to go buy enough food for tomorrow.

Dorian paced around his flat nervously the next morning. He checked his watch - 10:01. He quickly tried to bring up Grommr - sure enough, he was met with an error message about the server being down. It would start soon enough.

The first sign of it was his t-shirt. Previously loose, after about five minutes he found he was having to fuss with it to get it to sit right. another five minutes and it had begun riding up around puffy lovehandles and a firm paunch, while his sweatpants were starting to slip down an expanding rear. Another ten minutes and he took the t-shirt off, freeing a large beer gut that bounced when he walked. His sweatpants had grown almost skin tight around hefty thighs and would soon be too tight for comfort. He knew that this was only the start.

The hunger started then; sickly, stabbing pains in his newly expanded gut. He put two pizzas in the oven and sat with a donuts while he waited, knowing that soon his body, and his appetite along with it, would soon be able to accommodate all the food.

Just under thirty minutes in, Dorian's gut started to rest on his lap when he sat. He leant back, the swollen sack of fat at his middle dragging along his lap as he did so, and his cock began to harden. He reached a hand up to scratch the pink stretch marks beginning to form below his budding moobs.

While stuffed to the point of breathlessness just five minutes before, his stomach was still expanding, and he could feel the gnawing hunger begin to creep back in. He belched and stood, tottering slightly at the near-total shift in center of gravity since he’d sat down. He peeled off his sweatpants, struggling past his wide arse and flabby thighs, then gathered as much food as he could in his arms, using the top of his gut as a shelf and cautiously made his way back to his sofa, where he collapsed down, put on a trashy movie, and continued to eat.

Dorian continued to grow as his pile of junk food diminished. He savoured the feeling of soft, supple skin sliding past skin as he swelled - his growing tits pouring out onto his behemoth gut, his underbelly coursing forwards across rotund thighs dimpled with cellulite, his fat pad oozing around his perpetually hard dick. He knew to wait though; the bigger he was, the hotter his eventual orgasm would be.

Dorian looked down and surveyed himself. His body was beginning to be defined by rolls upons rolls. He estimated himself to be around the size he reached last time there was some server downtime; his profile had put on at least a hundred pounds since then. He lifted a heavy arm and used a hand to probe his plush flesh, sighing at the way his newly chubby fingers sank into the fat.

Still, the hunger increased. Dorian tried to lean forward to grab his phone, but found his own sheer bulk resisted him, pushing him back. He spread his legs and allowed his gut to fall down between them, the shift pulling his body forward in his seat and causing a dull ache in his lower back. He picked up his phone and with clumsy sausage-like fingers brought up a delivery app. He allowed instinct and hunger to take over - spring rolls, beef, chilli beef, sweet and sour chicken, duck pancakes, chilli chips, everything he saw he was ravenous for. He'd not been this big before and the hunger was deep. He pressed order, only briefly worrying about how he'd answer the door when he had no clothes that could hope to fit him.

Dorian’s body continued to expand. There was an alienness to his new size; his thighs had to splay around his hanging gut, his arms sat uncomfortably on top of thick pillows of fat at his sides, each joint filled with lard, and most of all was the awareness of gravity, how it pulled at his body and how his body answered in kind by dropping down and down.

Half an hour of nagging hunger later, his doorbell rang. He threw himself forward, but fell back to the sofa. Even that unsuccessful effort left him winded. He rolled to the side, fat cascading over fat as he did so, and staggered to stand sideways, his arms shaking as he heaved with all his might against the sofa. He grabbed a blanket and draped it over him; it barely covered his torso, but it was the best he could do.

How had he never realised how easy walking was before? Now, every step needed to be purposeful and required a conscious effort to propel his weight forwards. He had to wheel each thigh out and around past the other, each one a lead weight to be lifted. Dorian reached the door panting and sweaty, his hips burning with the beginnings of pain. The delivery driver looked on in shock, and then in slow horror. Dorian didn't care, he just grabbed his bags and slammed the door, before making his slow way back to his seat.

As he fell back, the sofa made a loud crunching sound and he felt himself sink deep into the cushions. He shuffled over the other side as best he could, each movement sending shockwaves across his body. He piled his bags into the crater left on the other side of the sofa and ate directly out of them, the table now wholly unreachable.

Dorian suspected he stopped growing around the time that he'd finished his food. If nothing else, the hunger had stopped. His torso had become a series of rolls, each one wrapped around his entire body and piled on top of the next. His limbs had become huge sacks of flesh, spreading out beneath him, the only evidence of his joints small, soft dimples in the thick casing of his body.

Dorian knew he'd waited long enough now. He pushed a stubby paw into the deep fold underneath his gut, reaching for the hard nub of his cock not yet swallowed by his fat pad. It was no use however, the heavy weight of his belly pressing down and closing off his own groin from himself. He leant to the side and spread his thighs, freeing up access and shifting his weight off from his lap, but still his fingers had to squirm past sweaty flesh into the small crevice left of his crotch. He grasped at the hard head of his cock, finding it in a shallow depression of flab nestled in dense pubes. With two fingers he did his best to jerk himself off, but to no avail - there was simply not enough cock left and not enough space to handle it in. Desperate for release he began to thrust, rocking his pelvis back and forth, so that the thick shaft of his penis slid within his own blubber, fucking his own body. He closed his eyes and ignored the tortured groans of the sofa below him as his pleasure grew. It only took a few minutes for him to cum, semen coating his fat pad and thighs as he yelled out.

Dorian slumped back, gasping for air, and exhausted, drifted off into a sleep.

When he woke up, it was dark. He could still feel the weight of his body pulling down. This wasn't right. As slow as it took for the weight to pile on, usually it melted away in seconds once the servers were back online, which should have happened hours ago. He checked the time - 23:24. Had something gone wrong?

He checked Grommr - the site was back up. He tried to log in - nothing. App - no. Browser - no. He tried to type his password in again, fat fingers mashing against the keyboard so that he had to try again slowly, deliberately. Nothing worked. He felt his heart pounding somewhere beneath his bosom.

Finally, he noticed an email in his inbox.

Grommr admin team - lost profile

During our recent scheduled server update, a small number of user profiles were unfortunately lost. We are sorry to tell you that your profile was one of those that we have not been able to recover. We are doing everything we can to recover lost profiles, but we are sadly not…

Dorian stopped reading. He looked down at the acres of flesh that were now his body. He lifted an arm up and let it fall, watching it shake and wobble in the dim light. What would he tell his family? His friends? His fans? This couldn't be happening.

Through his panicked breathing and heavy heartbeat, another feeling began to grow - Dorian Grey was beginning to feel hungry.

[ms-fandomgirl]

Bento Boxes and Hand Grenades Masterlist

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

Words: 30k-40k~ estimate

Summary: A chance encounter in the Shibuya Train Station leaves you with a sore shoulder and a mysterious bento box. You’re willing to write the incident off and move on, otherwise preoccupied with navigating a new city and a new job, but a bombastic blond, meddling friend, and fate itself seem to have other plans.

Genre: Pro Hero AU, fluff, strangers to lovers, medical setting

Links: Cross-posted on Ao3!

Sneak Peak...

You threw out your arms to stop yourself, but there was nothing to brace against. Already dreading the embarrassment that was sure to follow your complete wipe-out, you gasped as you instead careened into an incredibly hard chest covered by a very soft army green hoodie. The scent of warm caramel and expensive smelling cologne invaded your senses, and for a second, you thought disaster had been avoided. That is, until your bento box, along with his, fell to the ground with a soft thud in the chaos.

“Watch it,” the stranger growled. He bent over, grabbing both bentos and shoving yours into your arms. You began to offer your thanks, but the stranger didn’t care to wait, immediately muscling his way through the crowd until he was lost from your sight.

“What an asshole,” you grumbled.

Chapters (6/12):

Japanese Curry

Mapo Tofu

Oyakodon with Spicy Sauce

Tonkatsu

Onigiri

Okayu

Ramen - Coming Soon!

A/N: I am so excited to announce Bento Boxes & Hand Grenades! I have been stewing on this fic for so long, and it feels amazing to get it out into the world. As always, reblogs and likes are greatly appreciated, but please do not repost here or on other platforms!

Tag List: If you want to be added to a tag list, let me know in the comments! I’ve never done one before, but I think all I have to do is post the usernames at the end, so it shouldn’t be too bad?

[chaos-in-deepspace]

L&DS Rafayel: Ocean Adventure | Drabble

Okay so Rafayel is a lil shit but so are we.

Pairing: Rafayel x Reader Warning: None Disclaimer: This is an original fan work for “Love and Deepspace”. Do not repost on other platforms or plagiarize. All characters shown in this fic is 18+.

Blog Information | Masterlist

Rafayel

When your adorable boyfriend had mentioned wanting to explore the tidepools near his home, you were expecting a cute date. Finding little starfish and other fun creatures, collecting seashells…cute things. You weren’t expecting to be staring at him, seaweed in your hair as saltwater dripped onto your face. You looked like a wet dog as you stared at your beloved boyfriend, ready to throttle him.

“Uh, you got a little,” Rafayel managed after he had finished the worst of his laughing fit. He pointed to the large strand of seaweed you could see in your peripheral vision. You glared, slowly reaching a hand up to pull the seaweed off your head and tossing it below you.

“So you really wanna play this game, Raf? With me?” you questioned, nodding as you placed your basket on a rock. You continued nodding, thinking over a game plan as you put your hands on your hips, “Are you certain this is how you want your day to go?”

Rafayel placed a hand over his heart, “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” a dramatic sigh, “I had simply slipped, and you were right there,” now a pitiful look was shown to you, “I really hadn’t meant to,”

“Oh?” you laughed. “You didn’t mean to?” you began walking closer to him. Rafayel could see that this wasn’t going to work out in his favor, opting to take a wide step back and be prepared to run if he needed to. “Well, bad news for you because I definitely mean to do this.” You were quick and efficient with your methods.

Cupping the water just right, you splashed Rafayel in the face. It helped that you guys were by the deeper section of the tidepools, so you didn’t have to bend down completely to do it. You watched Rafayel sputter, wiping some of the water off his face. His poor, beautifully styled hair was now dripping as well.

Then you did it again, maybe two or three times, laughing as he cried out for mercy. Once you were sure he was just as soaked as you were, you stopped, crossing your arms over your chest to admire your handy work.

Then you noticed that, with all the splashing and water, his beautiful white shirt was now…transparent. You always told yourself that you looked respectfully in most situations…but when it came to Rafayel that didn’t apply in the slightest. You ogled him without remorse, staring at him up and down and just enjoying the sight you had created.

Rafayel covered his chest bashfully. “H-hey,” he whined. What do you think you’re looking at?” In awe, he was pouting now, too.

“I wasn’t doing anything,” you blatantly lied as you went to pick your basket back up. It was filled with shells and sea glass you had found, things that the ocean wouldn’t be missing. Now, come on, didn’t you say you wanted to show me everything this tide pool had to offer?” you asked with a smirk.

Rafayel, who didn’t bring a basket since he was more than happy to use yours, crossed his arms. Then, as if thinking of something, he began approaching you. You were confused at first, wondering what he was up to. Once he was close enough, he loomed over you almost like a predator would…but no…he couldn’t be.

“What are you doing?” your tone was accusatory, and he smiled.

“I just wanted to share this moment together is all,” His arms came to wrap around your waist. Oh…well, at least it felt nice as you leaned in closer to him. You were both wet anyway, so it wasn’t like he was getting water on you.

“Oh…well, if that-” you let out a scream as soon as he picked you up and tossed you over his shoulders like a sack of potatoes, “You son of a bitch, put me down!” you began beating his back with your firsts because you fucking knew exactly what he was about to do.

He didn’t stop walking, though, “Hey, ease up back there. It almost feels like a massage gun when you hit me like that,” he teased, and you could see the water getting deeper the further he walked. 

“Put,” one harsh slap, “me,” an even harder hit, “down!” This time, you were thrashing about in his arms as you tried not to let what was about to happen happen. 

Then he stopped, and for a moment, you thought it was just a bluff…but oh no. Apparently, there was a ledge where the tide met the deeper ocean. Rafayel adjusted you in his arms, and you gave him a confused look. Then he jumped in, you in his arms, screaming the entire time.

Tbh if a man tossed me into the water you best bet imma be drowning him. You hear that Raf? I'm comin for you. SQUARE UP.

[queerponcho]

Please

A/N: Hi hello, girlies!! I am back from my lil break hehe. I've been working alot and organising my shit and i finallz have time to post smth again ㄟ(≧◇≦)ㄏ This is just a little oneshot I really enjoyed writing hehe<3

moonknight x f!reader

warnings: sexual tension, first person perspective, the tension could be cut with a butterknife lmao

1700 words

“Are you serious??” I ask my mom incredulously. “You’re really gonna make us sleep apart?? We aren’t the ones getting married! I thought this rule only applied for the groom and bride?” we had barely stepped into the house and the stressed energy was messing up our newly engaged mood. Of course we haven’t told anyone about the engagement due to the focus being on my sister. I didn’t want to take any of the focus off of her but it was really hard to keep it for myself. I love the boys and I would kill for a chance to show off the pretty crescent shaped yellow diamond-ring they had got me. It’s so beautiful and I’d have never taken it off if it wasn't so obviously an engagement-ring. 

“Oh honey, you’re gonna be fine! Please just do this- for your sister? It’s only for three nights-”, “Three nights????” I whisper-yelled. My mom and I were in the study and were tryna keep our voices down since Marc was in the kitchen with the groom and my dad. My sister was somewhere ticking off last-minute tasks with her bridesmaids. I would be with her right now if I hadn't just flown in from london…I am secretly kindof glad to be home first though. I had talked with her on the phone before coming here and she sounded really stressed. As soon as she gets here I won’t be able to leave her side. Arriving early provides me with sufficient time to show my boys around the neighbourhood and my childhood-home. 

“Ay mija porfavor! It's three damn nights! Stop behaving like a teenager and make a sacrifice for your sister. Por dios…” without waiting for my answer she makes a swift exit out the door making sure to avoid looking at me so I can’t keep the dispute going. She certainly knew how to end an argument. 

I follow her to the kitchen, wiping the pissed off expression off my face before anyone can spot it. As I enter I see the beautifully tanned, dimpled face I love so much doing his absolute best to keep up small-talk with the future husband of my anxiety-riddled sister. He sees me and his eyes immediately hone in on me, practically begging me to save him from the current discussion about the latest tennis match. I decide to grant him his wish and slide over to his side of the kitchen island, my arm circles around his waist and I tighten my grip on him and smile when he completely gives me his full attention. 

“Hi baby” I say with a sweet smile and turn to the groom to properly say hello and take the lead on the casual conversation. Marc moves me in front of him swiftly and circles both his arms around my waist, he quickly kisses my temple and continues to listen in on the conversation, once more taking his favoured role as a spectator. 

The polite conversation is cut short by a nervous call from a bridesmaid to the groom. Apparently they needed a last minute decision on the song since the artist of the initial choice had been cancelled a few days before. 

Marc and I quickly made our way up the stairs to my room so I could fill him in on the “separate bedroom”- Situation. “So this is where you had all your awkward phases, huh?” “Excuse me? I never had awkward phases. I have definitely never ever worn 4 layers of ripped tights thinking I had made a huge fashion discovery, nah- never…” 

“Mhm okay- seems like a really specific example, cariño” Jake moves behind me and softly kisses my neck, littering quick gentle kisses all over. “Amor- profa. The door- my mom” Right on cue I hear my moms platform house-shoes make their way down the hall. I push Jake off of me and he stumbles into the dresser completely bewildered by my actions. “Niña!! ¿Dónde estás? Your sister needs you!” I lean out the door to answer. “Okay mom! Just lemme change out of these clothes!” “¡Pero ponte las pilas!” “¡¡Ay ya mamà!! I’m coming!!” I yell back as I hear her walk back down the steps. 

I take a frustrated breath and turn to my luggage to unpack it as quickly as I can, desperate to find an outfit that is cute but also comfortable in case I wanna fall asleep in the cab on my way over to my sister. 

“What the hell was that?” oh…oops. “Shit- Jake I am so sorry, I swear- I didn’t think- are you hurt?” I worriedly reached out to him to check him.

“Physically I’m not, but emotionally I might be” he says in a joking tone, clearly thinking my reaction was more funny than hurtful but he still wanted to know why I’d done it. 

He leans back against the dresser and I move to stand between his legs and reach up to give him a quick peck on the lips. “I’m sorry baby- It’s just my mom has never really seen me be all like, close with anyone like this. Like, she knew I’d had partners but like, if she met them the most I’d do in front of her is like, hold their hands…I’m sorry I freaked out.” I look down as I tug on my fingers feeling the anxiety crawl up my throat. 

“Ay cariño, it’s alright. Just so you know, I wouldn’t want your mom to see me casually kiss your neck either. We should save that for when the door is closed, okay?” he hugs me back into him and I snuggle into his firm chest and nod.

“About that, you kinda owe us, you know- for body slamming us into the dresser and breaking our ribs and stuff.” 

“Woooooww you’re lying so hard right now. I did not nearly shove you as hard as that.” I giggle 

“Oh? Are you minimising my pain? Bold move for someone that's gonna have to share a bed with me tonight.” he grins and moves his hands down to my ass to give it a firm squeeze, which makes his wolfish grin only worsen.

As he is moving in on my collarbone to lick and kiss it I lose my train of thought. I was gonna say something wasn’t I? There was something important…

He makes his way up and nibbles on my earlobe, biting it and sending a beautiful ache down my spine by doing so.

He moves me backwards until my legs hit my bed and gently lays me down. As he keeps going I feel the sensation of my soft sheets underneath me and I am reminded of a dreadful conversation.

“B-baby- can *mnnh* can you ple-ease sto-p” he lifts his head, his glossed over, hungry eyes piercing into mine as he licks his wet lips. Ugh he is making this so much harder right now. I take a few deep breaths and form the words. “W-we have to sleep in separate rooms-” “he blinks and his deep and sultry voice is quickly replaced by a worried English man. “Whot why??- Did we do something wrong?” he backs away and sits back on his shins. “Nono! No sweetie you-you were perfect. God you were- fucking perfect but my- my mom wants us to sleep separately for the next three nights-”, “three nights????” “i know baby-”, “but we just got back from a mission yesterday- We haven’t spent a night together in like 2 weeks-”, “I know love- But mom she, she insisted. She is saying it’s cuz my sister wants it that way but I'm pretty sure she just doesn't like the thought of me in bed with a man I haven't married. Especially cuz I’m pretty sure my mom has just outright refused to consider that me and my sister might have an active sex-life…” 

“Right and we can’t tell her about our engagement yet…this blows” Marc says exasperatedly and slumps down on the bed.

“I know babe. Let's just do this. It's just three days and then we can head back. And remember we got those first class tickets for our way back…they have those big bathrooms in the firstclass part of the plane…” I look at him and bat my eyelashes and run my hands up his thighs, feeling him tense under my grip.

“Mmh beba, don’t promise things you can’t follow through” Jake rakes his eyes over your face in a dark gaze. “Mmh baby have I ever broken a promise?” I lean forward, resting my weight completely on his thighs, our lips almost touching. Marc looks up at me through his lashes and his usual tense expression melts away at the intensity of me. “...no, you would never” he breathes. I move my head next to his and move towards his ear, my lips ghosting over the shell of it and I can see the goosebumps rising on his neck by the soft contact.

“So, all you have to do…is be patient” I punctuate my statement by softly nibbling at their earlobe. I part away from him and before I can stand up he grabs my wrist. “Oh, luv you can’t expect us to hold through for 3 days without a touch from you or getting at least a little taste of you now and again. It's been weeks- I-” I look at his pleading eyes and before I can say anything he continues. “Look what you do to us-” He pulls my hand and places it on his hard crotch. And oh god was it hard- “by merely being in the same room with you-” he whines and I feel myself pitying Steven and his needy state. He slowly grinds against my palm as I stare at him trying really hard to argue with myself why this can’t continue until I’ve watched him cum at least three times-

“HIJA- WHERE ARE YOU??” I basically lunge myself off the bed and sprint towards the door, throwing my entire weight against it to keep it from being opened. “Coming mami!! Five minutes!” I breathe out from relief when I hear my moms shoes click-clacking down the hall and back down the stairs. I move away from the door and look back at Marc…He looks delicious. His hair; a mess and he is resting on his elbows, his knees spread apart, making it impossible to look away from the bulge protruding through his fitted slacks. “I’m not sure I’ll make it through these three days either, to be honest…”

a/n: hope you all loved it and stuck around eventhough i haven't been very active lately. love you guys and pls like, comment, reblog if you liked it!! I love getting to read your reactions and feedback<33

[mun-2996]

OKAY OKAY IMAGINE THIS.

(sunshine x grumpy kinda fluff btw !!!)

**red text is for miguel dialogue

So Miguel, big grumpy n kinda scary. Then you're this adorable little thing full of love and you're absolutely ADORABLE.

Oh how he loves how you come into his office with that cheerful smile. That sweet smell of your perfume. The way your hair's all nice and flowy.

But what he hates? The fact that he can't get out of this cold demeanor of his. How he'll try and get you out of his office as soon as possible to make sure he doesn't get attached! (Which was failing MISERABLY)

And you poor thing :( you took every ounce of slight irritation in his voice so seriously. It was like your goal to cheer this big ball of grumpiness up!

Miguel, grumpy as usual. Stressing over this stupid little anomaly popping up, taking things from one universe and putting them in another!

You, being you. Happily skipped into his office, with a little container full of homebaked chocolate chip cookies :3

"Get out."

"I made you cookies!"

"I said get out."

"They're chocolate chip."

"I don't want your stupid cookies! Okay!?"

Your smile immediately dropped, your lips already trembling. "O-okay" you mumbled, whimpering a little. Miguel saw your tears and immediately felt like the biggest asshole in the multiverse. "Hey, wait." He got off his little floaty platform lab and hopped down in front of you. "I didn't mean any of that, okay? Just a little stressed." He let out a sigh, feeling like an absolute idiot. "Can I try some of your cookies?" He pulled a chair from behind you with his webs, offering you a seat. You sat down and he kneeled in front of you, placing a hand on your arm and rubbing gently. "M' sorry okay? I shouldn't have lashed out on you, yeah? So can I please try a cookie?" And for the first time, he cracked a tiny little smile, which looked a little forced but you could tell it was genuine. You sniffled before wiping your tears away on your sleeve, you open the cookie container and held it out for him. The cookies were decorated with bits of red frosting to resemble the red streaks on his mask.

"Mhm."

"Did you make em yourself?"

He opened his mouth and you placed a cookie on his tongue. He closed his mouth, chewing on the cookie. It was the perfect mix of gooeyness and crunchiness. Immediately making Miguel's day better.

"Can you feed me one?"

"Might have to ask you to bake s'more, yeah?"

You let out an adorable little giggle that completely lifted all the stress away from Miguel. And let's just say you two had many more cookie breaks from then on <3