#not really but I don’t wanna risk it lmao

[sortasirius]

I’ve been kinda thinking about the finale (as if I ever do anything else) and I have a sort of theory on how it could all play out.

Most of this is spec, some of it is my writer brain, so with that what you will lmao.

With what the 911 on ABC posted on Instagram today, I think it’s fair enough to assume that the councilwoman who was the mother to that guy is about to get involved. That whole thing was kind of just brushed off, and the idea of revenge is being repeatedly being brought up (Amir, even the idea of Doug sort of enacting revenge on Chim while he’s hallucinating), along with the theme of loss and grief (Eddie’s current mess, Amir…again).

I’ve seen several theories saying that she would try to stop Hen and Karen from adopting Mara, and while I can see what they’re saying, I actually think it’s more along the lines of her preventing Hen from being interim captain.

We know something is going to happen to Bobby, with all the stills and bts in the hospital, including the one with the whiteboard that says “R. Nash” on it. And if Bobby can’t act as captain, the usual replacement is Hen, but if Hen is in the midst of this, and the entire 118 is caught up I think it’s plausible (especially with Ryan talking about how Eddie is “isolated” next season) that the councilwoman will basically fight to split them up, citing past cases and insinuating they are dangerous or unfit as a unit. The LAFD brass won’t want to get in a fight with city council and will separate them but won’t fire them. (A compromise they’ll think is good, but we know is terrible).

I personally think that Buck will be left at the 118. With Captain Gerrard. I really get the feeling that the councilwoman may know him and put him back in place there even in spite of his past.

If we think about Buck’s worst nightmare (being abandoned by those he loves) it fits perfectly. Being by himself in his house but without his family, with a new captain that he knows Hen, Chim, and Tommy hated. That’s the worst possibility for him. Throw in a potential fight with Eddie and you have the perfect storm for Buck, something that would be untenable for him long term.

Relationship-wise, I have a couple different thoughts. Either Gerrard being at the 118 brings Tommy and Buck closer together, because Tommy understands what an awful captain Gerrard is and is a shoulder to lean on for him while he has to deal with it (this is preferable and what I want lol).

Or, as much as I hate to say it, it could lead to a distance between him and Tommy, because Tommy doesn’t want to be around Gerrard (don’t blame him) and he can’t be there for Buck because he’s afraid of turning back into the person he tried so hard to escape.

And I don’t think we’d start season 8 with everyone back together. With 18 episodes (bless) they have time to draw out plotlines that they haven’t been able to this season.

If, as I fervently hope, Bobby makes a recovery from whatever happens to him, he’ll have to go through the same retraining that Buck did when he was crushed by the ladder, which would be an interesting contrast for him to be put in those shoes, maybe desperate to get back out to the field but not being cleared, Athena being worried about him the same way he was worried about her after she was attacked, all that.

I think Hen’s big conflict would be that she feels like them being separated his her fault, since she didn’t force the guy to get care. She would be okay in another house, but potentially feel like she’s starting over, just like with medical school.

For Chim, I think his biggest thing would be taken out of the 118, maybe he would be assigned to the 133 as an extra gut punch since it was Kevin’s house? I think there’s something interesting there.

And Eddie. Eddie, who is taking doppelgänger Kim out in public, while bringing his girlfriend to the medal ceremony. Something is coming here, this situation is precarious at best. I highly doubt he will still be with Marisol by the end of the season. At the same time, I don’t think he’s going to be with Kim either. With this photo, it could be that Chris finds out about Kim or something like that. If I had to guess, I would say that Eddie and Marisol are done by the end of 7x09.

I could also potentially see Eddie being left at the 118 and Buck transferring to air support with Tommy, which could be interesting since Eddie was the one to leave last time. But for angst points, I think leaving Buck alone in his house which is suddenly no longer home, but hostile? I would eat that up.

Overall, with all those happy stills we got today, juxtaposed by the way press is talking about the screeners, I would say we’re in for a rough couple of episodes and a rough hiatus too.

[mossy-paws]

do you have a list of what all the phighters are gonna be in your mermaid au :0

still really nervous to say who’s who because I don’t want people to copy any of my ideas because I’ve seen someone be scarily close to what I’ve been doing and stuff (no blame on them though because to be fair I guess it’s a little generic, it’s just a tad nerve racking I would say :’DD!), but you can refer to some of my older posts for what’s what :DDD! Sorry LMAO I just got anxiety and I’m silly like that

[mcnuggyy]

I need to leave this abusive ass household, but I’m so scared of leaving my siblings behind… who else will fight for them and vouch for them and talk them through the crazy bullshit my parents say and did to us… but also if I stay here any longer I worry what will happen to me too…

[organized-chaotic-disaster]

Hm. Having a conversation with one of my best friends about how I’m extremely burnt out (both with regular burnout and autistic burnout) and then the next day dealing with something at work that only contributes to that (staying later at work than I’m scheduled to) (last minute changes in how I expect things to go = upset autistic me) and THEN having a coworker say “I just expect this to happen every week :) “ when THEY’RE also scheduled to be off earlier, only making me more annoyed bc you don’t Get It uh. Really says something doesn’t it?

[vagueiish]

what are you supposed to do when the thing you want also happens to be a thing that has a high chance of kicking off a major spiral of self-loathing? and it’s something that’s apparently kind of necessary to be a fully actualized human being???

[love-bitesx]

I loveeeedd the last story Tysm ❤️❤️❤️ Keep up the amazing work 🌈

I have another request

Hobie x fem spider reader

Reader has a weird stalker ex-bf, and the reader tries to keep it a secret from Hobie but he finds out and deals with the ex.

: ̗̀➛ STALKER. hobie brown x fem!reader

any criminal minds fans out there … i hope u see the parallels of my baby spencer also i'm so sorry, i didn't see until after i wrote this entire thing that you said 'fem spider reader' so it's a fem normal reader, so sorry! i hope it's still okay, tho!! thank u sm for ur support angel !! summary: hobie & y/n have been doing long distance for months, but she never told him exactly why. words: 2.8k (the words just kept coming, sorry its so long lmao) warnings: fem!reader, pronouns not really used but "my girl", "lady", etc. are, read at your own risk! weird stalker bf, creepy fella, hobie n y/n are long distance, very very soft hobie

“when can i call you next, darlin’?” hobie’s voice was laced with longing, bass distorted by static at the other end of the phone.

“if you’re quick, we can call tomorrow after 5,” you smiled, and if you were in an 80’s romcom, you’d be twisting the phone cord between your fingers.

“5pm it is, don’t be late,” you can hear his smirk, and a bolt of guilt strikes your chest.

“look, i need to ask something, and i think i already know the answer,” hobie speaks, and you bite your lip in anticipation, “the band and i are playing at a new venue tomorrow, it’s the biggest we’ve played, we’re all dead excited, and…”

a sigh.

“well, it won’t feel the same without you there, pretty.”

if the first bolt wasn’t enough, then the second one lived up to it, striking you into the dead center of your heart. it had been well over 6 months since you met hobie. well, “met”. you’d accidentally called the wrong number one day, meaning to contact a friend of a friend, but typing the last number wrong. picking up at the other end was a deep, almost mesmerising voice, telling you; “no bother, darlin’. it happens, just make sure not to lose this number, wanna hear more from ya.”

“hobie, you know i can’t,” your voice is brimming with remorse and you look to the ground.

“i know, shit with your parents, i get it," he tried hard to hide the disappointment, but his heart twanged with neglect and it creeped through into his words.

parents. strict, all-demanding 'parents'. that's what you told hobie when you first started dating, that the reason you aren't able to see him was because your mother was overbearing and extremely protective – it was a lie. a lie that was eating you up from the inside out. the truth was slightly more grim, however.

years ago, you got involved with a guy at work. a couple brief conversations turned into dates, and dates turned into anniversaries, anniversaries turned into toxic, violent arguments and after a long time of dating, you broke up with him. to say he took it badly, was a criminal understatement. threatening phone calls, showing up at your work, sending you gifts and menacing letters – his signature move was scaring off, and even once harming, any man or potential love interest that you interacted with. it was exhausting, and terrifying.

and hobie was different. he was sweet and kind, but rough around the edges, and his voice dripped in passion no matter the topic of conversation. his promises were never empty, and most importantly – he loved you. and you loved him. the last thing you wanted, was your ex to pop up and scare him off, so you kept it from him. limiting your relationship to phone calls at arranged times incase your ex was keeping tabs.

“i’m sorry, hobie,” is all you could muster, not even scratching the tip of the catastrophic iceberg that wedged the back of your throat.

“it’s okay, darlin’, don’t worry that pretty little head over it,” and just like every phone call, you melted into his words, “i love you, yeah? i’ll call you tomorrow at 5.”

“i’ll be waiting,” you smiled, cheeks flushed at his gentle affirmations, “i love you.”

with a ruckus of movement, and what sounded like a kiss, the call ended, and you stared at the screen silently for a moment. not much longer could you avoid it, and the malten bubble of dread spilled into your gut.

sending him a quick text:

‘good luck tomorrow, handsome. what’s the venue called again? you’ll do amazing x’

you turned off your phone, discarding it on the bed as you climbed into the hole of guilt you’d dug yourself.

“oi, you ready, blud?” hobie’s band mate yelled above the bustle and cheers from the crowd before them. large, bejewelled hands poised onto his guitar strings, he smirked.

“always.”

with a nod to the roadie, the lights went up, illuminating the stage and instruments, hobie's glowing with a harsh red tint. immediately, his sepia eyes digested the crowd. seeing the flushed, excitable faces staring back at him sent a shot of confidence to his bones, and they moved, strumming the guitar with such vigor that the stage floor shook beneath his feet. cheers erupted, and yet felt oddly empty. it was missing something, and he knew what it was immediately.

he'd truly give his all to have you there, front stage in his eyeline, screaming his songs like gospel. not that he'd ever seen you properly, only seeing teasing selfies you'd sent him over the months you'd been together. he didn't care, inherently, he'd fallen head over heels for your personality; a pretty face was only just a bonus.

however, he did yearn for your touch. to feel his hands in your hair, to kiss your cheek, your nose, your neck. he longed to have you with him, even just doing stupid little tasks, having you by his side through the domestic side of life.

his gall spurred him on, his passion surging through his fingertips, spilling out into the sound waves. the audience were lapping it up, screams and chants only barely audible under the booming power of their set. song, after song, after song his talented blood seeped out onto the strings, and his feet were almost numb from the vibration of the bass.

the final song arrived, and his chest was burning, vision blurry, heart pounding against his chest – and he loved it. it was their biggest crowd, their most excitable achievement so far, and his blood pumped with adrenaline as he finished off the set, falling to his knees as he strum his guitar with one final chord. lights falling, his chest was heaving and his eyes scanned the audience one final time – you weren’t there. he had to accept that.

“that was fuckin’ sick, blud!” his bassist yelled as they exited the stage, palm slapping hobie’s shoulder blade and elicited a wide, ecstatic grin.

“you smashed it, mate,” hobie shouted back over the booming stereo that took their place.

“nah, man, you stole the show,” his bassist shook his head, patting him again in appreciation, “good that your lady’s here to see it, too, she must be proud.”

“i wish, mate,” he sighed.

“did you not see her?” his ears perked up, and at his confused expression, his bandmate continued, “over at the back, by the bar, i didn’t know what she looked like, but she was asking after you. ‘er story adds up.”

"shit," he mutters, feet solid on the ground. his heart pounds, skeptical of your presence, but chest bursting with hope that it just might be you, "look, bro, i need to–"

"go! go, man, go see her," his bandmate pushes him in the direction of the bar, and he almost stumbles over his own feet to push the stage door open, met with the chaos of the crowded bar.

dark eyes scanning the aimless faces, he searched for anyone who could look like you; his stature brought him above everyone else, only by a little, but gave him an advantage to seek you out.

"sorry, i need to get past," he repeated, over and over to unassuming bodies, setting through the chaos to find his peace. pushing out at the back, a wave of light met him, shining through empty pint glasses and illuminating the bar.

there you were.

standing quietly, head nodding along to the blasting instrumentals, drink in hand; you were heart-stopping. and he was pretty sure his did. even if he’d never seen you face-to-face, he’d memorised the soft plump of your lips, alluring light in your eyes, even the way your hair fell against your skin from the photos he'd seen. there was no doubt it was you, and my god, you were beautiful. he couldn’t even stop his legs if he tried, as they carried him over to you.

"y/n?" his voice barely travelled through the sound waves, but it hit your ear like a familiar embrace.

turning to him, eyes wide and bright in the twinkling of the bar lights. you drunk him in, warm eyes swallowing every part of him. you'd seen pictures, again, but it could never compare to him. dark brown skin, soft to its complexion, hugged his bones in every perfect way; folding at the creases of his handsome face. he was tall, very tall, and the detail of the curves and indents of his muscles, altered by the shadows of the dim bar light, made your head fuzzy. god, he was beautiful – nothing that a digital screen could ever portray with justice.

"hobie," your voice was crisper than he was used to, and he would bottle it if he could, "hey, handsome, you got a–"

"come 'ere," he interrupted, essentially scooping you into his tense embrace, melting into your scent, the feel of you in his arms. his heart was pounding against his chest. you wrapped yourself around him, running your hands along his leather jacket, ghosting the skin below it.

"you interrupted my introduction," you pouted against his shoulder, "had a whole little joke planned and everything, you know."

"go on, hit me, love," he pulled back a tiny bit, his arms still glued around your waist, looking down through his lashes. you faltered under his intense gaze, giddy smile bursting onto your face and you buried your head in his chest.

"nuh uh, not anymore," you shook your head against him, "you ruined it."

his hand came up to touch your face whilst you spoke, following the edge of your hairline and tucking your hair around your shoulder. he was in awe, having you here, having you with him. tightening his embrace, he didn't want to let you go – ever.

"mhmm," his voice vibrated his chest, and you pulled away, "i'm sure it was hilarious, love."

"it really was," you chuckled, giddy in his presence.

the air grew thicker, your laughter dying out and left with just his strong gaze, his dark brown eyes following yours. you could barely comprehend him being here, in front of you, around you, and he was so much more than you had imagined. feeling his calloused hand caress your cheek, you leaned into his touch, inviting him into your world. cupping your face, hobie bought himself to you, leaning down until his pierced lips were ghosting your own. months he'd dreamed of this, imagined how it would feel to kiss his girl, to taste your lips and feel your love. he could feel your breath, and you were about to give in, until you pulled away.

"wait, i–" you swallowed thickly, pulling your touch from him.

"what's up, darlin'?" his eyes scanned your face for any sign of reason, "did i do somethin'?"

"no! no, you," you sighed, "you're perfect, it's not you."

he'd be lying through his teeth if he denied the pit of anxiety building deep in his stomach, bubbling up his throat.

"what is it?"

"i–" you stuttered again, and fought to get your words out of your brain and into the thick air of the bar, "i haven't been telling you the truth."

silence. just for a second. hobie's brain working over time.

"look, if you've got another fella, or somethin', just get it over with–"

"no! no, hobie, i'm yours, i promise," your words settled him for a second.

"my parents don't care about us, they aren't strict, in fact, they were happy when i told them about you," you begun, opening the dam.

"they know about me?" his voice was smaller than you were used to, and if your brain had a spare synapse to process it, you'd probably have melted.

"yes, and i'm sorry i haven't told you," you avoided his eyes, "it's my ex."

"oh, fuckin' 'ell," he sighed, dropping his arms to his side, and he's about to speak, until you interrupt.

"we broke up years ago, but he's never left me alone," you ring your wrists with your hands nervously, and hobie notices – you looked terrified, "i've tried everything; i've tried the police, i've moved countless times, i've changed jobs, made new friends, met new people – he won't leave me be."

tears welled up now, and his heart reached for you, but his arms stayed stuck by his side.

"every guy that i meet, he's, i don't know, calling them telling them i'm someone i'm not, or following them home and slashing tires, or roughing them up outside pubs," paranoia enveloped you, and your eyes darting around the crowd, "i was so scared, because you're the best i've ever had, and probably will ever have, and i don't want him to scare you off."

"y/n–"

"and i understand if this has done exactly what i'm scared of, because i get that keeping it from you was awful, but i was only trying to protect you and–"

his lips cut you off, warm against your own, capturing your words and pushing them back down your throat. hands on your cheeks, body flush against your own, you melted into him completely. it felt like heaven, like months of tension and longing unravelling like ribbon into the wind. it was safe, gentle, like a promise – a promise that it didn't scare him, and that he was yours.

"is he here?" his voice was low, lips hovering yours.

"i-i don't know," you were flustered, your brain trying to make sense of it all, but his hand on the small of your back stopped any cognitive thoughts, "i haven't seen him."

watching him, hobie's dark eyes floated around the crowd, before falling back onto you. smirk on his lips, he placed a quick peck onto your cheek.

"hmm, i hope he enjoyed the show," he chuckled lowly, and you couldn't help but mimic it, relief flooding off your shoulders, "how about we go somewhere a bit safer?"

"like where?" you questioned, intrigued by the coaxing tone of his voice.

"well, i only live around the corner," he shrugged, before offering his hand. blushing, you slipped your hand into his, the soft skin of his fingers pulling you towards him, until he threw his arm around your shoulder.

"nothing could scare me off, you know," he whispered, placing a kiss to your hair, "i'm 'ard as nails."

"oh yeah?" you giggled.

"mhmm."

clothed eyes glued to the suspicious figure, hobie stood on a rooftop, footsteps silent as he follows the man below. tailing him through the cobbled back lanes of london, hobie's back tingled with apprehension – he'd been following him for at least a mile, waiting for a perfect opportunity.

and he'd finally found it.

pausing his heavy stroll, the man dug into his pockets and pulled out a slightly crushed pack of cigarettes, fumbling further for a lighter. a small orange glow lit up the air around him as he puffed away, smoke fluttering to meet hobie's nose.

silently, hobie swung to a platform below, pulling his guitar tighter against his back and dropped to the hard ground. the sound of his leather boots colliding with the cobble made the man turn in his direction, eyes wide at the sight.

"spiderman?" the man breathed between puffs, voice hoarse, "can i help you?"

"you know what, i think you can," hobie strutted, hands stuffed into his leather jacket, lanky stance towering him, "are you y/n's ex fella?"

"who's asking?" he questioned stupidly, and hobie let out a laugh.

"bruv, who's– are you stupid or somethin'?" hobie punched him lightly in the shoulder, "do you not see the whole get up?"

"the fuck have you got to do with y/n?" he spat, defensive stance taking over his body.

"none of your business," hobie knew that would sting, "but you're gonna leave her alone, fella."

"you don't know what you're talking about."

"i'm not askin', mate," hobie stepped closer, "and i'm not givin' you a choice."

before he could even utter a response, hobie had swung his spike-studded arm in his direction, knuckles colliding against the pathetic man's jaw, knocking him to the ground below.

"tha's my girl you're messin' with now."

[stuckinapril]

what red flags should i look for in a man?

I actually feel like I’m a good person to ask this question, not bc I’ve had a long healthy relationship or anything, but bc I’ve humored walking red flags way more than I should’ve lmao. Btw this list doesn’t go for just men. It can apply to man, woman, or any human being across the board. Ok so:

When someone tells you they’re not ready for a relationship, BELIEVE THEM. Idc what the reason is. Idc if it’s bc they aren’t that into you or if they have shit going on. They just told u straight up. Appreciate that and just leave. Please. For me.

Piggybacking off that point—listen to people when they tell you who they are in general!!! This was a major 2023 lesson for me. People self-report all the time, whether it be friends or romantic interests. Most people are legitimately incapable of hiding who they really are. Pay attention. Do not ignore the signs, however small. I could’ve saved myself so much trouble if I didn’t just pretend Not to See.

Not consoling you when you need it because “they’re not good with emotions.” This is just an excuse for being lazy. They just don’t wanna put the work into being there for you properly—especially if you’ve already gone through the trouble of communicating this to them.

People who talk the talk but don’t walk the walk. Actions over words. Actions over words always.

Fuck overextended talking stages. If you wanna know more about me, let’s plan something in person. Otherwise you run the risk of getting attached to someone who’s possibly nothing like how they actually are in front of you.

If you’re having to “communicate” extensively with a person like a month in, as in there are lots of miscommunications and misunderstandings and things you don’t like about them or they don’t like about you, I’d probably just drop it. I learned this the hard way last year after burning through a lot of friendships where I found that we didn’t know each other that long at all, but there was already a plethora of problems to work through. This can apply to relationships just as well. If you’re asking a person to change this early in, or they’re asking you to change this early in, it’s probably just not a match.

Mostly talking about themselves. Not asking you anything about yourself in return. Ew.

It takes months to actually know a person’s true nature. That’s typically around the time people start showing their true colors. Ik a lot of people choose to commit like a month in, so just take that as u will.

Fucking competing with you. People who’re incapable of just being happy for other people without inserting themselves into it are insufferable. Immediate next.

This isn’t conscious behavior, and all of us are guilty of it, but people have an innate habit of taking advantage of your fantasies. If they know you’re desperate for their attention, they’ll get lazy (even if they don’t realize it). If they know they’re the object of your desire, they will leverage that to get your benefits without putting in the work. This is like playing cards and immediately showing someone your hand. Do not do that. This isn’t “playing hard to get”—it’s just guarding yourself until you’re sure you can trust the other person.

Not always the case, but a lot of times the way someone’s last relationship ended is pretty telling for how yours will go. ESPECIALLY if they’re not at all remorseful about how the last one went down, lol. You’re not the exception.

People are busy and taking a while to respond is O.K., but if it’s a continuous pattern of them taking forever to reply, it’s probably just a matter of priorities (and you’re not theirs). Sorry.

Pls take the ego out of the talking stage and recognize that love bombing is not flattering. I’ve reprogrammed my brain to where any time someone is doing way too much like three seconds in, I get the ick. I’ve legit dropped guys over this. It’s such a red flag to me. They either don’t have a life, or just are a natural love bomber (who will overwhelm you w compliments and attention only to fizzle out just as quickly), or they know exactly what they’re doing and they’re playing to your ego. Whichever it is, ick. Big ick.

The way they talk about other people is a major tell. This goes for friends and romantic interests. I think a bit of gossip will always be unavoidable, but if someone is liberally trash-talking other people—ESPECIALLY EX-FRIENDS OR EX-PARTNERS—you could literally be next. Anyone who thrives off badmouthing other people / hating on others / just generally not giving others grace doesn’t have exceptions. You’re their focus for now. It could just as easily be you tomorrow.

[mypoisonedvine]

𝘀𝗰𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗺 | ghostface!darren (pig) x reader

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 | he probably wasn't even invited to this party, because who would invite him? but he came anyways... just to torment you. far more than you could've imagined, in fact.

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁 | 2.5k

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 | NONCON DARK SMUT 18+ ONLY!!, public sex, degradation, pain kink, knife kink, a bit of predator/prey, blood kink, smoking, unprotected sex/implied risk of pregnancy, darren is kind of an incel lmao

It was a pretty traditional high school party— overcrowded, loud and sweaty, bad music and worse liquor— but at least the sea of costumes, ranging from scary to silly to sexy, added at least some new layer of interest to the whole thing.

You hadn’t tried very hard with your devil costume— more accurately an attempt at a ‘sexy devil’ costume— but you put on horns and heels with a tight red dress and nobody can really complain.  You weren’t really here to get into the ‘spooky spirit’ or whatever anyways, just an excuse to drink and maybe chat with some people you’d been missing.

The person you ended up chatting to right in that moment, though, was exactly the last person you wanted to talk to.

You didn’t even know there was someone behind you until you felt him press up to your back, suddenly hovering right by you.  “Want a drink?” he asked, shoving a cup towards you, but you were too busy nearly jumping out of your skin to care— you almost knocked the drink over, actually some of it did splash onto another partygoer, but she was too drunk to notice.

“Fuck!” you yelped, turning to see the gangly boy behind you.  “Christ, Darren, do you have to always sneak up on a girl like that?”

He just smiled and tried to offer the drink to you again.

“M’already holding one,” you pointed out with a frown, “didn’t ya notice?”

“O-oh yeah,” he mumbled, lowering the cup finally.  “Costume looks good.”

“Thanks,” you shrugged, though you suddenly felt the urge to tug down the bottom of your dress.

“You’re not worried what the boys are gonna think with you dressed like that?” he asked, and you glared at him as you shoved his shoulder.  

“Don’t you think before you open your fuckin’ mouth?” you spat.  “What are you, anyway?”

The black robes didn’t really tell you anything— not until he reached behind his head and pulled a Ghostface mask over his face.

“Oh,” you snorted, “not the most original, is it?”

“Don’t like t’movie?” he wondered as he pulled the mask back again.

“I mean, it’s pretty good,” you relented, “but—”

“You wanna fuck ‘im, don’t you?” he insisted suddenly with a lascivious grin. 

“What?” you squinted.

“Ghostface,” he clarified, “you’re one of the girls who thinks he’s fit, yeah?”

“Why are you always such a creep?” you asked him with a grimace, but then you decided to change the topic quickly.  “Kinda thought you’d be a pig or something,” you admitted, “with the nickname and all.”

“Nah, that’s stupid,” he rolled his eyes, crossing his arms— which made you notice the prop knife in his hand.  It actually looked pretty good, shinier than most plastic costume knives.

Just then, Jimmy O’Doyle sauntered up beside you, slipping his arm around your shoulders.  “Ay, little devil,” he greeted, flicking the red horns on your head as you smiled sheepishly.

He hardly acknowledged Darren, spare for a quick nod, but Darren was staring at Jimmy for a little too long before he looked at you again.

“Thought you said you didn’t want a boyfriend,” Darren said sharply, glowering a bit.

Jimmy scoffed and you shifted uncomfortably; Darren tended to be… what’s the word… desperate?  Clingy?  Overall bizarre?  He certainly couldn’t take much of a hint.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you said first, though that didn’t really matter— you didn’t need any reason to reject Darren, outside of your natural self-preservation instinct.  He actually wasn’t bad-looking, but it was hard to tell past those leering eyes and the uncomfortable smile.  He wasn’t smiling now though… he looked quietly enraged, sipping pointedly on his drink as he glanced away for a moment.  

“I’ll see you later, yeah?” Jimmy smirked at you, hardly waiting for your nod before disappearing back into the crowd.

Suddenly, as you felt Darren’s livid gaze from awkwardly close, you decided that you needed a little fresh air.  And by that, you really meant a cigarette.

Not wanting to tell Darren that you were going outside for a smoke, you instead mumbled some excuse about going to the loo— somewhere he was just sane enough not to follow you to— and bumped through the crowd until you found a door out into the neighbourhood.

There was a slight drizzle still going outside— more of a misting, really— that made everything all foggy and grey, spare for the yellow-y glow of the streetlamps dotting the way.  It wasn’t a full moon, as cool as that would be, but near to one… regardless, it wasn’t visible behind low, dark clouds, leaving the night starless and dreary.  There wasn’t much to look at in the alley as you lit your cigarette and took slow drags from it, so as you stared blankly forward at brick walls with chipping whitewash, your mind wandered a bit.  Nothing of great merit: upcoming assignments, the possibility of an afterparty, the lingering hope you could find a steamy hook-up for the night… you didn’t just put this outfit on for the pictures.

Before you could get too far into your imagination, you were startled by a distant sound, jumping slight as your head turned towards it— but it was just the dark alley, not much to see.  You squinted, trying to make out movement in the shadows, but for quite a while you couldn’t see anything.

Only when you turned your head back forward with a shrug was there any sign of what you’d heard, just a shift in the corner of your eye.  You looked at it again, and you hated to admit it, but your heart froze up for a second when that white face emerged from the darkness.

Of course, you gave your best unaffected scoff when you actually processed what you were looking at.

“Quit it, Darren,” you warned, willing your voice to sound stable as you shouted down the road towards him, “you’re not gonna scare me.”

You watched him move closer, stepping into the light so you could see him better, and tried to ignore the way the hairs on your neck stood up.  If he knew he was getting to you, he’d just keep doing it; you rolled your eyes and took a drag through your cigarette to try to seem nonchalant… but you had to stop your hand from shaking just a bit.  Only because it was chilly out, surely…

You thought it was a joke— a stupid joke, but still just a joke— until he dragged his knife along the brick wall as he stalked toward you.  The sharp, high-pitched screech of metal against stone was unmistakable… and that was how you realised it was a real knife.  A very sharp, very real knife; he’s going to actually kill me, you thought, just before you let out a primal and instinctive scream.

Turning on your heel, you ran as fast as you could.  Each rapid pulse of your heart pumped adrenaline through your veins, and you felt so shaky that you worried the light night breeze would knock you over.  

These were far from running shoes, though— they were pretty excruciating to just stand in, actually— and it was only a few blocks of a chase before you tripped.  Yelping in pain, you tried to scramble up or even crawl forward… but just as you rolled over and winced from landing on your hip, you saw him stalking forward into the flickering light of a streetlamp.

He was probably just going to take the mask off and laugh at you, right?  Reveal the whole thing was a silly prank and the knife was fake and that he just wanted to prove you were scared of him.  Yes, that would be the most sane thing for him to do at that moment, even after being so not-sane by chasing you with a knife.  Instead, as you tried to crawl back, he just tilted his masked head curiously at you, and with his free hand reached down and palmed at his groin.  He was hard— you could see the outline of it through his costume, his hips rocking forward slightly into his palm as you heard a muffled hiss from his mouth.

He knelt down and grabbed your kicking legs, roughly yanking you closer and hovering above you menacingly.  “C’mon and scream for me,” he ordered with a delighted purr, pulling his mask back, laughing when what came out of you was more of a wail or sob instead.  “Louder, y’little whore—”

“Get off me!” you shrieked, trying to fight him away, whining as he laid down over you instead and licked your neck.  You turned your head with a grimace, shuddering as his weight pinned you against the slightly-damp pavement.

“G’na show Pig how tight the little hole gets when you’re scared— aren’t ya, fuckin’ slut?”

“Be serious, Darren— s’not funny, get away from me!”

You struggled less when he flashed the knife; as little as you could, in fact you actually nearly froze as he teased you with it, running the tip down the front of your dress with just enough pressure to pop a few sequins off, making you whimper in terror.  He laughed, though— a small, dark, chuckle.  “Quiet now,” he noticed.  “Don’t make a fuss, sweetheart.”

You had to bite your lip to hide a shout, though, when a gloved hand up slipped under your short dress, grabbing greedily at your lacy panties.  He licked his teeth, bared by his grin, as he stared at you with those haunting eyes of his.  “Wet, aren’tcha, girl?” he taunted— not that he’d be able to feel it through his black gloves, but past your own groaning you could almost hear it (though you tried not to).

“You’re such a creep!” you spat, though you tried to regulate your tone as you glanced at his knife again, held against you by one of his hands on your arm; maybe part of you still thought he would stop and admit it was a joke, but the darkness in his stare made you doubt that more and more.  The gravity of the situation still hadn’t really set in yet— sure, you were coursing with fear and had goosebumps all over, but it didn’t totally feel real.

“Won’t take too long,” he promised with a sigh as he hastily tugged his costume out of the way, still pinning you down with one hand (if not as effectively).  When he roughly yanked his cock out, proudly brandishing it between your legs as your eyes went wide… that’s when it felt real.

“Don’t,” you gasped instantly, looking up at him with pleading eyes.  “Don’t, Darren, please— you can’t—”

“Shh,” he hissed quickly, “s’good— gonna feel good, alright?”

He gasped loudly as he pushed inside you, eyes shutting tight before he dropped his head down onto your chest.  “Fuck, girl— what’s a whore cunt so tight for?”

Not wasting any time, he pulled his hips back and roughly thrusted forward into you again, making you choke on your cry.

“S’for me, isn’t it?” he decided with a sick sort of grin.  “Want Pig to feel good?  Like t’squeeze the thick cock, don’t ya?”

“I— I fuckin’ hate you,” you whimpered, shutting your eyes tight, in disgusted disbelief that this was happening— that it was him inside you, holding you down.  But you couldn’t forget it, not with him moaning and purring above you, mumbling stuttered praises… and the feeling of it, it was impossible to ignore, as much as you hoped to somehow.  It was a deep stretch, each thrust making your chest tighten out of more than just fear.

“Mmf, fuck,” he grunted, holding onto you tighter— another reminder he still had that fucking knife.  “Pretty— it’s a pretty thing… it’s warm inside…”

Grimacing, you hated the way your body responded to his lewd comments about it; your walls clenched on him slightly, you could tell by the way you felt even more sore inside than before.

He pressed the knife up against your neck, growling in amusement at your wince of fear.  “Think Pig’s gonna slice you?”

“I… I don’t know,” you stammered out your answer, eventually.

“Waste of a pretty face, no?” he smirked, moving the knife up and caressing the side of your face with it— not that it could really be called a caress, all rigid and cold like that… “Say please.”

“Huh?”

“Say please,” he repeated, “beg me not to hurt you.”

“Already are,” you sneered at him, but he pressed the knife to your neck with a little more intention— a little more pressure, a wild look in his eyes suddenly— as he insisted again.

“Wanna hear you beg,” he spat.  “Do it or Piggy might hurt you worse.”

“Please, please,” you whispered shakily, shutting your eyes.  “Please don’t, Darren…”

You gasped sharply as he pressed the knife down just enough to draw a thin line of blood, only to pull the blade away and lick hungrily at the wound.  Feeling dizzy and sick, you winced at the sting of his tongue lapping at your pierced skin, lips wrapping around and suckling as teeth dug painfully into your pulse.

He thrusted faster, recklessly so, and bit down on his lip as he breathed heavier.  You were too focused on how painfully deep he was going to really process anything when he started to slow down— that is, you felt that he was slowing down, and didn’t think for a minute about why he was slowing down.  

His loud, low groan gave it away; you snapped back to reality and looked up at him in a new kind of fear.  “Fuck, Darren, did you just—?!” you whimpered, squirming harder as you realised what he’d done.

“Shh, shh,” he soothed you sharply, hissing as he grabbed a tight hold of your hip.  “Stay fuckin’ still, girl— fuck, I’m still coming—”

You yelped and tried harder to fight him off, but he kept you pinned down easily, even forcing you into a rough and sloppy kiss.

He sighed into it after a second, relaxing on top of you until it was a little hard to breathe under his weight.  You whined and tried to break away, but the hand with the knife still in it held your jaw, the cold metal pressing threateningly against your face.

Whimpering and blinking up at him, you met his icy gaze and he smiled proudly down at you.  “Little devil, eh?” he smirked as he toyed with your horned headband, which had become quite dishevelled from all the running and struggling.  “Your blood matches the outfit— poor whore, red all over…”

“Darren,” you choked, fighting a sob of disbelief as you felt him pull out of you with a hiss— a steady, sticky leak giving away how much he’d come.  “What the fuck did you do?”

“Don’t be fussin’, girl, like I said,” he rolled his eyes, though he was still grinning wide.  “Ready to go back to the party now?  Or do you just want Pig to take y’home, sweetheart?” 

[icyg4l]

PAC: Who Wants to Match Your Freak? (18+)

Inspired by the infamous ‘Nasty’ by Tinashe, this pick a pile is on the X-rated side (my first time doing this btw). We’re getting into the nitty gritty! But before we do, just know that it is important to use protection, no matter what your gender identity is! Now… let’s find out who wants to get nasty nasty nasty 🫦🫦🫦

Without further ado, please select your Tinashe still!

Pile 1-4: (Top Left-to-Bottom Right)

Pile One: This person is definitely into roleplay. They would like to teach you some things and learn some things from you inside of the bedroom. I feel like this is someone you wouldn’t see as a “freak”. This gives me the energy of Jhene Aiko. To you, they are very innocent but you have not seen that side of them yet. They wanna show you that they can hold their own. They want to meet you halfway. What I am getting here is the energy of a secret rendezvous. This may start off as something that is lowkey but ultimately, you could end up in a couple with this person due to their skills! You’ll want them all to yourself, Pile One. Now for the good stuff, lol. This person will definitely be into nibbling and sweet whisperings. If you are a woman that is into women, this person will definitely be on top. They like to be the star of the show. They could get a little greedy. I feel like the person who wants to match your freak does not want to rush the act with you. They want to take it slow; they may be into edging. They will be into stripteases and lapdances. They don’t really like to take risks in the bedroom, unless you’d be the one doing it. 

Cards Used: The High Priestess, 7 of Swords, The Star, 2 of Discs, 2 of Cups.

Pile Two: Ooo, this feels like a reminiscent energy. I feel like this is the energy of someone from the past. It could be an ex. It could be an old friend. It could be a former sexual partner. This partner is in love with you, lmao. I feel like this person could have drunk texted you recently or they have a history of doing so. They might do it again, lol. They want to spin the block really badly. They’d like to get you all alone after having a long conversation about the things that went down between you two. This person could have a really thick accent that you’re attractive to. This person is very suave, I can tell. For some of you, this person may be thinking of making you their third. This person could also be into watching you play with yourself. They are into your… fluids lol. This feels like a makeup session. This person misses you very badly and they would like to show you with their actions (and their tongue). It’s really up to you whether or not they will come back. 

Cards Used: 3 of Swords, Princess of Cups, The Magician, 3 of Cups, Ace of Cups.

Pile Three: I heard the word “impressive”. I think that this person is known for their bedroom skills. This could be a former sexual partner, but it doesn’t have to be. I will say that this person’s physical appearance is very attractive to all genders. They are universally attractive. This person is someone that feels like you have unfinished business with them. Maybe you’ve shared a kiss with them, but it didn’t go anywhere past that. Maybe you two have done nothing but text and chat on the phone. You may have even fallen off with this person. However, this person wants to know where the hell you’ve been. In the bedroom, they are into BDSM. They could also like to do things while under the influence, but it’s not necessary. They like to put their weight on their lovers. They are definitely dominant in the bedroom. Don’t be afraid to step in the bedroom with them. They can also last for a long time, so you will be depleted of all your energy once y’all are finished. They don’t bite, unless you want them to.

Cards Used: 6 of Cups, The Moon, 10 of Swords, 4 of Pentacles, Wheel of Fortune.

Pile Four: I feel like this is for my people who currently attend college. I feel like this is a classmate you’ve been eyeing. They have a nice style. They could be inspired by the mid 2000s Southern fashion trends. I think that this person has a breeding kink, tbh. They think you’re someone that they can take home to their mother. They are very into courting. They try to put on an image of appearing “good” or “neutral” to the public. Their reputation is very important to them. I feel like this person is well off. You are very tempting to this person. Honestly, this person might have a worship/praise kink as well. They may be slow to initiate the act. For some of you, this is a pillow princess. The vibe is similar to Pile One but the difference with this pile is that it’s all an act. This person could appear to be “boujee” or “aloof” but don’t knock it until you try it. There isn’t anything wrong with keeping it undercover. 

Cards Used: 10 of Cups, 6 of Discs, 4 of Swords, 9 of Discs, 10 of Discs, Knight of Discs. 

[goodgirlformatt]

M.S. Just a taste

Summary: In which you’re enemies with Matt, but he helps you fall asleep…

Warnings: smut! dnr if you don’t like. one bed trope, oral (fem receiving), subish?!fem reader x domish?!matt, sort of praise?

a/n: tbh i hate this trope LMAO just a random one shot i thought of. i’m not the best at writing so stick with me here..

read part two here

I’m over at the triplets house right now. It’s getting late, and I don’t wanna be irresponsible and drive if I’m this tired. So, I just decided to spend the night.

Chris, Nick, and Matt all already went to their respective rooms. I search around the living room for a blanket, which you’d think would be easy. But there’s none in sight. I don’t wanna go upstairs and walk through the mess of Nick’s room to dig for a blanket, or go downstairs to Chris’s room in risk for a spider to be in the blanket…yes I’m paranoid. So, alas, I’m stuck with going to Matt. Yippee.

I gently knock on his door and hear a faint “come in” before i turn the knob and slowly poke my head in.

“what to you want?” he snaps at me, standing next to his bed in flannel pajama pants. He’s shirtless, with a shirt in hand. But I’m not sure if he had just taken off his shirt, or was about to put it on.

“i just need to borrow a blanket.” I say back to him and shrug my shoulders.

He sighs and rolls his eyes. I walk more into his room, a little awkwardly. He grabs a blanket on the bottom shelf of these bookshelves he has near his bed and tosses it to me.

“thanks.” I say, catching the blanket. I turn to leave his room.

“wait.” He says with an annoyed sigh. “you’ll be too cold, even with a blanket. Plus the couch is really uncomfortable to sleep on. Just…sleep in my bed.”

I raise an eyebrow in surprise and suspicion. Why was he inviting me to sleep in his bed?

“uh…you sure? the couch is fine by me-“ I say back to him, pointing my thumb at the door.

“Don’t make this a bigger deal than it is. Just lay down.” He says with a sigh. He tosses his shirt in the laundry hamper and lays down in his bed. Maybe just cause he’s an ass to me, doesn’t mean he’s not still a gentleman…

I shyly walk over to his bed, setting down the blanket on the end of it. I crawl in on the other side of him. I lay on my side facing away from him, my mind racing on what this could be about.

After a few moments pass, I feel the weight shifting on the bed. Almost like…he’s getting closer to me. I furrow my eyebrows in confusion and turn my head slightly to look at the boy.

His eyes are closed, but I can tell he’s not asleep. I move to lay on my back, one hand on my stomach and one on my forehead as I look up at the ceiling.

“what’s wrong, baby? can’t sleep?” He asks in a teasing manner. baby??? I look at him with a confused expression.

“excuse me?” I say back to him.

“I can make you a little tired, help you sleep..” He says back, opening his eyes and smirking at me.

Part of me wanted to deny that I kind of wanted it. That I was curious. That suddenly, I felt a small little ache from between my thighs.

No. No, I can’t think like this. He’s my enemy. I can’t do this.

“C’mon, it’d be fun…I’d get you exhausted real quick, too…” He whispers before leaning over and leaving a few kisses on my neck.

I hum softly in response. I’m so close to just giving in.

“No. You’re disgusting, Matt.” I say back. Why was I pushing him away when all I wanted was for him to do whatever it was he wanted. I turn my back to him again, laying on my side.

I feel his hand slither onto my waist as he keeps kissing my neck.

“Just a taste.”

He whispers into the soft skin on my sensitive neck. I swallow nervously before letting out a sigh of pleasure at feeling his soft lips press and lightly suck on my neck.

With his hand on my waist, he pushes me again to be laying on my back once more. I don’t even try to fight against it, instead I just comply.

He slowly moves to be hovering over me, moving his lips to my collarbone. I feel his hands trail up my sides under my shirt as he starts to peel the tight fabric of my long sleeve shirt off of my body.

I lift my body up to help him with the small act of lifting my shirt off. Once it’s over my head he just takes in the sight of my body. My white bra and my belly ring are now exposed, tempting even just to stare at forever.

He reaches his hands underneath my body and with ease undoes the clasp of my bra before sliding it off of my arms and hear the quiet noise of the fabric hitting the ground.

My nipples are hard from him and the cold air surrounding us. My heart is pounding against my chest. I’m still so confused on the situation, but I also can’t complain. I can’t lie that I’ve always found Matt hot. And not gonna lie, when he was angry at me, it was even hotter. So if anything, I should be thanking the lord that my dream was coming true.

He kisses my collarbone to my right tit before leaving a lick on my nipple. He takes the left one into his hand, gently massaging it as he swirls his tongue around my right nipple.

My breathing increases and I let out a soft sound, my eyes closing as I just try to focus on what’s happening.

He then starts to kiss his way down to my waistband of my sweats. His fingers curl into them, grabbing them at my hipbones before sliding them off with my panties.

“Look at you. being such a good girl, letting me do what I want…” he whispers to me as the sweatpants agonizingly slowly get pulled to my ankles before joining my shirt and bra on the floor.

The wetness in my cunt meets the cold air of the room. I need to squeeze my thighs together to get a little friction but with where he is I can’t.

I keep my eyes closed, my chest rising and falling with my irregular breathing; thanks to him.

I let out a moan when I feel his warm tongue glide along my wet folds.

“shhh…don’t wanna be caught, now do we?” He whispers again. I shake my head, opening my eyes and looking down at him.

He smiles before repeating his previous action, lapping up my wetness.

“mmm….you do taste good…” He whispers against my clit before his tongue starts tight circles around it.

I softly whimper when he does, keeping in mind that we don’t want to be caught. My hand moves down and pushes his hair out of his pretty blue eyes so I can’t look into them. His eyes twinkle and he winks at me as he keeps his movements.

It’s not long before he starts sucking on my clit and humming against it, causing my to use my other hand to cover my mouth and muffle my moans.

One of his hands reaches up, my leg then over his shoulder, and grabs my tit. His other hand holds my waist firmly.

He licks intensely against my clit before his tongue moves down to my entrance and starts to fuck it with his tongue.

I moan into my hand, my back arches slightly. It hasn’t even been that long and I already feel my orgasm approaching.

His hand on my tit holds tighter, his thumb playing with my stiff nipple. My hand tightens in his hair and pulls him closer to my pussy.

He moves back to my clit and whispers against it again: “come all over my face, ok, gorgeous?”

God those words on their own could make me come. He flicks his tongue rapidly against my clit which earns a bigger muffled moan from me, biting my hand and squeezing my eyes shut.

Just like that, I couldn’t take it any longer and did as he said, releasing all over his lips and chin. He smiles up at me and loosens his hands.

With pleasure he licks me clean, making my sensitive pussy even more sensitive and my body twitch lightly. I remove my hands from my mouth and his hair.

“tired now?” he asks me with a devilish smirk as he looks up at me with my mess on his face.

[impishjesters]

I’m devouring the nonsexual intimacy with Jax dawg- oml we eatin good

How would Jax be with an s/o who enjoys leaning on him? I adore physical touch but sometimes if I can’t use my arms it feels like I’m trapped, so it’s nice to just glomp people lmao (s/o is ticklish too- Jax would have a field day with that one)

If you need a little more substance, maybe s/o like randomly serenading Jax in private! Like those old 80s jazz love songs (complete with slow dancing)

Thank you and have a wonderful day/night!

Leaning on one another

warning(s): none unless you count jazz note(s): I joke about it but I actually quite like jazz, maybe not all jazz but it's definitely not the worst type of music. I'm looking at you country music.... A/N: I included a bonus because I thought the idea of cornering this man in his room with jazz music was absolutely hilarious lol

Jax doesn’t have a physical battery per say, but there is definitely a limit to how much he can tolerate at a given time—whether it’s in public or private.

He doesn’t like sitting still for long periods of time and there’s a limit to how vulnerable he’s willing to be at any given time if at all.

So having a s/o that understands this and goes for physical touch like leaning on him or something that’s not inherently seen as romantic and mushy is a win in his book.

Don’t get me wrong, he loves you but it’s a lot and he’s not really used to it. He’s still trying to wrap his head around the fact you two are dating, that you like him.

He’s all for being leaned on or having you loosely hang off him in public, sometimes regardless of what side of him you’re leaning on, he might lean back.

Little shit might only catch himself though if you can’t hold him/he catches you off guard and/or lose your footing, he’ll make the attempt to stick an arm out and catch you—but whether you crash or not depends on your own reflexes. (he doesn’t make the rules, sorry babe)

If you wanna be held but not feel restricted, as long as he’s not doing anything he’ll let you stand in front of him, lean back, and drape his arms over you—totally not to just lean on you and be an absolute menace.

In fact, that’s probably how he found out you were ticklish—and that knowledge is far too much power in his hands.

Sure he can do it whenever he wants, but he tends to save it for other unsuspecting situations—like if the two of you get into a little spat and you’re not speaking to him—two can play that game.

He won’t completely restrict your arms but he’ll throw his arms around you and tickle you, it doesn’t always work to ease whatever the spat was about.

That said Jax doesn’t do it when the situation is serious and calls for an actual discussion, he knows at least that much when it comes to reading the room. (That and you’ve probably gotten onto him about it at least once before…)

He also may or may not have tickled you to get you up, you don’t need to sleep but you can still lie down and whatnot. And if you aren’t budging? Tickle time baby.

Bonus

Jax isn’t a dancer by any means, so when he opens the door to his room to find you standing there with music that’s—very much not the repetitive cartoony music that usually plays in this hellscape—he’s a little surprised.

The first question out of his mouth is:

“Is that fucking jazz?”

“No, just normal jazz.”

That response gets a good hearty chuckle out of him.

When you try pulling him in for a dance he’s a little nervous though it comes off as looking irritated, he’s uh, never danced to jazz of all things let alone with someone else.

You’re gonna have to take the reigns on this one, regardless of whether you can dance or not, you started this.

Despite the fact it is jazz playing, he enjoys the situation as a whole, your weight leaning on him the subtle holding one another. And the fact it’s in private? He can comfortably(ish) let himself feel a little vulnerable around you with no risk of having an audience.

Regardless of the fact it’s jazz, if you happen to sing along he considers himself impressed and will jokingly (read: obnoxiously) comment how he feels utterly serenaded, completely wooed, absolutely swooning—it goes on until you stop him, please stop him he’ll just keep going.

[ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused]

Hi!! I have a one shot request (I hope I’m in the right place lmao)

What about a autistic (fem)reader who is super smart and seems to notice things about the case that the others haven’t and every time she tries to state her thoughts a rude sherif cuts her off/infantilising her and Emily defends her

Honestly my brain stopped at the thought of Emily, I need more of her 😔🫶

-anon ᕦ(ò_óˇ)ᕤ

fem plus size autistic!reader, wc: 517.

a/n: i have had this finished but sitting in my drafts because i was too lazy to post it, but here it is! i hope that i was able to capture what you were looking for right! :] this can either be read as platonic or romantic!

cw! asshole elders :/

You have been spoken over and shut down for the past hour, twenty minutes, and thirty seconds. 

You hated being silenced, but one thing that trumps that was being infantilized. You worked hard to get where you were now, and you hated being treated like a child just because your way of thinking was different from your peers. 

You have saved thousands of people and you’ll be damned if you continue to be treated like this.

“If you look closely, you can see that the area that these women were killed in must hold some kind of sentimental meaning to our unsub.” You grab the black marker and go to draw the inevitable triangle on the printed out map before you’re stopped by the sheriff.

 “Hold it now, sweetheart. Don’t just go markin’ up stuff.”

“I beg your pardon?” You ask with furrowed eyebrows.

“I’m sure the area these women were killed in was just pure coincidence, so we don’t wanna risk coloring in the paper just ‘cause you think you know somethin’.” He spoke as if he knew more than you did like he was the one with the degree, his tone absolutely rolling in condescension. 

“I’m sorry but –” You try to say but the old fart cuts you off. “I’m sure you are –”

“Excuse me, sheriff, but I’m afraid Special Agent _______ made a great point.” Emily was quick to come to your aide, emphasizing the words ‘Special Agent’ just to reinforce her point.

You could see it in her narrowed eyes, and everyone else’s really, that she was about done with the Sheriff’s embarrassingly large ego. You send her an appreciative – albeit shy – smile, and she gets up, her eyes trained on the map as well. 

“She’s right, because if you look here,” She points to the first crime scene and motions for you to draw a mark. “And here,” Her finger trails down to the second location and you follow close behind. “And here.” Her path finally ends, and so does your black ink. 

There it was, just like you had first thought, a perfect triangle connecting them all.

“The most important thing should be right –” You finish her words and color in a big circle in the middle. “Here.” Emily sends you a proud look and it threatens to weaken your knees.

“I mean… I suppose that makes sense.” The man grumbled before leaving with his tail between his legs. 

“Thank you.” You say quietly. The conversation was meant to be kept between the two of you. Of course you loved and trusted everyone on your team, but Emily was your comfort person, and she made time to understand you.

“No problem,” She responds back. “Everyone was done with his shit anyway.”

“Still, thank you.” You pressed the conversation, because you don’t really think she realized the gravity of the situation, of your appreciation. 

For most of your life you had never been given a voice, and having someone stick up for you and even paving the way for you to make your point known was something that no gratitude could give.

ೃ⁀➷ my lovely taglist!: @alina02 @louderfortheback @minervadashwood @their-love @fandomsarelifee @theendofthe70s @nomajdetective @mgg-theprettiestboy @phoenixblack89 @celtic-crossbow @hallecarey1 @bunnybabe-babydoll @dixonzzgirl @violettavirus @khxna

[fadedin2u]

pick up and roll the dice - ch. 3

read in between the lines, i know you love me…

summary: you plan a surprise for ellie’s birthday, and ellie’s doesn’t know what to do about her overwhelming feelings for you.

content: college!au, childhood best friends!au, dealer!ellie, fem!reader, modern!au, ellie is a simp (not surprising), ur also a simp, art major!ellie, kinda slow burn??

word count: 2k

warnings: none really for this chapter!! expect nsfw chapters in the future so MDNI 18+

notes: it bums me tf out how little attention ellie fluff gets on tumblr, but i love writing this series, so if u like to read it, like/reblogs are SO appreciated

read chapters one and two here!

── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──

The day after the party, Ellie’s a wreck. She barely got a wink of sleep that night, unable to stop ruminating on how much she’s fucking up her friendship with you by having this soul-consuming want for you. It’s not like Ellie doesn’t know how bad this could all end. You’re not only her closest friend, one of the few people she actually trusts, but you’re her goddamn roommate. If Ellie fucks this up, there’s no escaping the awkwardness that would inevitably ensue, plus risk losing you completely.

So, she texts Kylie.

E: hey, sorry for going MIA lmao, things got busy, would u wanna grab dinner w me on friday?

Ellie sits down on her bed and rubs her temples. She doesn’t even like Kylie very much, but she’s available, and she’s clearly interested in Ellie, so at the very least Kylie can be a distraction from you.

Ellie feels a black hole of guilt swirling in her stomach from leading Kylie on, but it dissipates as quickly as it came on when you burst through into dorm, kicking off your shoes that you wore to your morning classes. Ellie, usually, is still asleep when you leave for classes, but this morning, she was just lying in bed, completely awake, as she listened to you getting ready, pushing through your hangover.

“Happy 20th Birthday eve!” You exclaim, giving Ellie a bright, cheeky grin.

She rolls her eyes, trying to conceal her smile, “You’re such a fucking dork.

You shrug and laugh, “Hey, it takes one to know one.”

You notice the dark circles under her eyes and frown slightly, “You look like shit.”

Ellie huffs a laugh, “Thanks.”

You sit across from Ellie on your own dorm-style twin bed. “You’re free tomorrow, right?”

Ellie nods, “I’m getting breakfast with Joel that morning, but yeah, I’ll be free after.”

You grin, and mischievous look on your face, “Good.”

Ellie raises an eyebrow, “Should I be worried?”

You shake your head, “Nah, you’ll love it. I just can’t wait to see your reaction. Just make sure you’re here at the dorm by 5pm, okay?”

Ellie puts up her hand, raising two fingers, “Scout’s honor.”

You snort, standing up to walk to the bathroom, “That’d probably mean more if you were actually a Scout.”

Ellie scoffs, “I know way more about survival than any of those dipshits, I’m basically an honorary scout, if you think about it.”

You rolls your eyes and laugh, “Whatever helps you sleep at night, Els.”

—————

The next day, Ellie’s playing the guitar that Joel made her for her birthday when you walk into the dorm at 5pm sharp.

“Happy Birthday Ellie-Bellie!” You exclaim, knowing her deep-seated hatred for her childhood nickname as you throw a handful of streamers in her direction.

She keeps herself from laughing, “You’re cleaning that up, right?”

You give her a look, “No, I was planning on making you my maid on your birthday. Now come on, we need to get going!”

She puts her guitar to the side and stands up, smoothing out the wrinkles in her t-shirt and cargo pants with her hands.

“Is that from Joel?” You ask, motioning to the guitar.

Ellie nods and smiles wide, “Yeah, he made it for me, it’s super sweet.”

You examine the guitar’s craftsmanship as Ellie laces up her converse.

“You’re not driving right?” She asks.

You give her another look, “I have to, it’s a surprise destination. You can’t drive somewhere you don’t even know you’re going to.”

She groans, “And to think I didn’t even give Joel a proper goodbye.”

You kick her shin playfully, “Shut up, you’ll be fine. I’m an… okay driver.”

Ellie starts walking out of the dorm building with you, “Does an ‘okay driver’ almost commit vehicular manslaughter twice?”

Your face goes hot, “Those kids appeared out of no where, and I stand by that. Besides, the key word is ‘almost’, babe.”

Ellie doesn’t look convinced.

“Besides, you get to be my passenger princess for today,” You say with an obnoxiously cocky grin as you walk into the parking lot.

Ellie rubs her face, “Jesus fucking Christ.”

You giggle and walk up to your car, opening the passenger door for Ellie, to which Ellie rolls her eyes at, but you can see that she’s trying not to smile.

You hop in the driver’s seat and say, “Birthday girl gets aux.”

Ellie plays a lot of 80s music during your drive into the city to her surprise destination, her taste in music developed during her years living with Joel. Halfway through Take On Me by A-ha, you pull into a parking lot.

You and Ellie get out of the car and you start leading her to a large building. Once you two can see the sign that reads “The Hansen Planetarium”, a giddy grin breaks out on Ellie’s face.

“Oh fuck yeah, we’re going to the planetarium?!” Ellie asks, walking faster.

You laugh and catch up with her, “What can I say? I know my girl.”

Ellie’s face goes a bit pink and she tucks some loose hair from her half-up bun behind her ear, “Yeah, I guess you do.”

You show the person at the planetarium’s front desk your confirmation for the tickets you bought beforehand, and you go inside.

Ellie stops to read nearly every blurb that’s written in front of each display, and you patiently wait for her, wanting her to take her time and fully enjoy the experience.

In between reading and examining the exhibits, Ellie is listing off factoid after factoid.

“Y’know, Neptune’s only made one full orbit around the sun since its discovery.”

“There’s actually some gravity on the International Space Station, which is kinda weird honestly.”

“Dude, do you know that the moon is really shaped like a lemon?”

You raise an eyebrow at that one, “You’re lying.”

Ellie laughs, “I am not! It’s fucking crazy! It looks round in the night sky, but I swear on my life it’s really shaped like a lemon.”

You shrug, still doubtful but accepting that Ellie’s probably not wrong, knowing her long-time obsession with space.

By the time you’ve made it through the all of the exhibits, Ellie is a little bummed.

“I almost wish there was more to look at, I don’t wanna say goodbye yet,” she says and your lips quirk up into a knowing smile.

“Yeah, it sure is too bad that there’s nothing else to do. On an unrelated note, follow me.”

You lead Ellie to the entrance of the Dome Theater inside the planetarium, and Ellie’s eyes light up when she reads the sign.

“Rock the Dome? Dude. Is this a laser show?”

You laugh and nod, glad that you guessed correctly that Ellie, the nerd she is, would be genuinely excited about this.

Ellie pulls you into a tight hug, “What the fuck? You know me too well.”

Your cheeks go hot and you giggle a little, “Well, at least we can agree on that.”

You give the Usher the tickets you pre-paid for, and let Ellie pick your seats in the Dome Theater, the night sky projected onto the curved walls surrounding you.

When she sits, you sit next to her and she immediately grabs your hand.

“Thank you. Seriously. This is… Genuinely one of the nicest things anyone has ever done for me.” Ellie says, squeezing your hand with a soft look in her eyes.

You squeeze her hand back, hoping you don’t look as flustered as you feel. “It’s seriously no big deal, Els. You’re my best friend, you deserve this.”

Ellie looks down at her lap and smiles a little, but doesn’t let go of your hand as the laser show starts, fog machines starting to pump out misty clouds into the room that makes the light from the lasers almost look solid.

Your mind is racing as the music comes on, mesmerizing the crowd with the lasers dancing in coordination, ‘This is platonic, right? This has to be platonic. Ellie’s just being appreciative of what I did for her. Jesus fucking Christ, maybe this isn’t platonic?’

You decided to not think about it too much at that moment, and try to enjoy the spectacle of color and light before your eyes.

———

The show included a lot of classic rock from the 80s, including Queen, the Stones, Bowie, Talking Heads, and The Clash. Ellie was awestruck, singing under her breath to every song that she knew, while you tried not to smile too big at how cute she was being.

By the time you two are back at the dorm, Ellie is completely over the moon.

“This was seriously the best birthday I’ve had yet. A new guitar from Joel, planetarium, and a laser show? This day fuckin’ ruled.”

You giggle and go over to your closet, “Well, it’s not quite over yet.”

Ellie narrows her eyes, “No way. You’ve already done so much.”

You pull a thin, wrapped gift from the top of your small closet, and bring it over to where Ellie’s standing.

“I wanted to do so much,” You say, rubbing the back of your neck.

Ellie takes the gift from you and sits down on her bed, intrigued.

“Can I open it?” She asks.

You laugh, “No, I just brought over your birthday gift so you could check out my wrapping job. Go open it, dumbass.”

Ellie chuckles and tears open the wrapping paper, her face morphing into shock as she sees the Special Edition “Savage Starlight” comic book in her hands.

“Holy fuck,” Ellie says, staring at it a second longer before nearly lunging forward to hug you.

You stumble back a bit, laughing as you wrap your arms around her as well.

“I’m guessing that was a good choice?”

Ellie guffaws, “Are you fucking kidding? It’s perfect. How the fuck did you find this, dude?”

You shrug , smiling to yourself, “I have my ways.”

Ellie pulls back from the hug, her freckled face a little pink as she looks back down at the comic book.

“This is too much. Like, way too much.”

You shrug, “Once again, you deserve it.”

Ellie looks down, smiling to herself, “Still. You’re just… This is so fucking thoughtful.”

You laugh a little, feeling flustered by this whole interaction, “What can I say? I have a lot of thoughts in this head, I gotta make good use of them.”

‘So fucking dumb, oh my god,’ you think to yourself, wincing at your response.

Ellie rolls her eyes at you, but her grin is huge and pure. “I’m gonna use the bathroom super quick, but do you wanna read it with me after?”

You smile wide, sitting on her bed, “Absolutely.”

Ellie races to your shared bathroom, and as she’s gone, you pull out your phone and scroll absentmindedly.

You’re pulled away from your phone when you hear Ellie’s phone buzz on her bedside table, right next to you, the screen lit up.

Before you have time to shame yourself for intruding on her personal business, you glance over at her screen, where a text is shown:

Kylie: I would love that! :) what time were you thinking?

Your stomach fills with dread and complete embarrassment. You should’ve known better than to think that Ellie holding your hand was anything more than platonic, that Ellie would ever see you more than her best friend. You knew that Ellie has never, and will never see you the way you see her, and you still let yourself get butt hurt over something as stupid as her getting a text from someone else.

‘I’m so fucking dumb, this is my own damn fault for getting my hopes up.’

You try to go back to scrolling through your phone, but your churning stomach keeps distracting you from thinking about what’s on your own screen, still thinking about the text you saw on Ellie’s.

When Ellie comes back in the room, she tears open the plastic packaging on the comic book and tosses herself onto her bed, pressed against you.

You move away from her slightly, “You ready?”

Ellie’s chest pangs with slight hurt, seeing you distance yourself from her.

“Uh, yeah! Let’s see what the Traveler’s are up to this time,” She says, trying to cover up how let down she is that you clearly don’t want to cuddle with her as usual.

You cross your arms and legs, leaning against the wall against Ellie’s bed. You’re barely able to see the full page of the comic book, but you don’t really care, it’s not like you’ll be able to think of anything except for that text.

Ellie glances over at you, her face crestfallen as she bites her lip, before pulling it together and getting into her “narrator” voice.

“The year is 2186, light years away from planet Earth…”

── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──

read texts w/ reader and ellie here

i realized i don’t have a taglist for this so lmk if you’d like to be added!

taglist: @elsbabyxx @mikellie

[bloodyinkandquill]

Scythe x Reader NSFW

my first scythe request and it’s nsfw, sounds about right lmao, hope this is good!

- D/V/S: If you think this woman is a sub your an idiot, she’s a hard dom no argument about it

- T/S/B: I feel like she’s a switch, specifically with a preference for topping but she can bottom, either way she’s still the dom don’t get it twisted

- More common kinks: Very into degradation, again she is the degrader not the degradee, maybe every once in awhile but for the most part she prefers to do it towards you, into lingerie, like very into it, seeing you in it instantly gets her in the mood, only problem is she practically rips it off of you so you keep having to buy new ones because she’s too eager and turns it to shreds, you give her an annoyed look every time but she just laughs and caries on, loves covering you in hickies and bites, she doesn’t care if they can be seen, honestly she loves when others can see them

- Medium kinks: Overstimulation, oh my gods she loves overstimulating you, that dazed look in your eyes all thanks to her makes her feel so good, she fucking loves eating you out/sucking you off, especially overstimulating you while doing so, makes her feel powerful and it’s pretty easy to her so that’s a plus, choking you is also something she’s into, she understands if your not and won’t if you ask her not to but if you are alright with it she loves wrapping her fingers around your throat and squeezing, she’s definitely researched how to safely choke someone so no risk of injury, definitely would enjoy scenes of hate sex, the roughness and anger behind it all, even if fake, turns her on so much, you two thoroughly discuss it before hand, same with any sort of scene you wanna do and even talking about it makes her excited

- I’m not sure which category to put these in kinks: Religion kink, enough said, you worshipping her or referring to her as religious names, she loves it, if she’s bottoming she also very much enjoys riding you, again she’s in control here, and if she is riding you she makes sure you don’t move at all, she decides how this goes, your under her she makes the decisions here, into light bondage, just tying up your hands or maybe a collar and leash every once in awhile, she’s very good at tying the knots for it and enjoys testing them out on you, to then use on her victims later, speaking of scenes of you playing her victim who says they’ll do anything to live, it’s completely consensual and you can opt out any time but she’s definitely into that kind of scene

Aftercare: She’s really good about aftercare, cuddles galore, unfortunately sometimes she has to go quickly so she can’t fully fulfill all the stuff she wants to do but it’s alright, she makes sure to clean your injuries and praise you for how good you are, especially after scenes she’s very concerned with your well being for them, cleaning you up with a gentleness you literally only see during aftercare, no other time

yippee, wahoo, EEEEE

[teagballs]

I just read your Dennis fic, and if you were going to write a part 2 would you be able to make it that Dennis doesn’t immediately tell reader he likes her? He just starts acting really weird when she’s around?

Like maybe, Dennis Charlie and Mac are insulting Dee and reader says something like “that it’s not nice” then Dennis goes, “yeah that’s seriously not nice guys.” And everyone’s just confused cause like he was saying mean stuff too.

If it’s to much trouble or if you don’t wanna write this please just ignore this 🧍🧍

"like no one else" | dennis reynolds x reader

read part one here

authors note: ur mind anon UR MIND BROOO. this prompt was amazing and i had to do it but also it took me a month cuz i was busy. OOPS. i hope i did it justice cuz i took it and ran LMAO

requests open as always!! looking to do some charlie kelly stuff, so if u have any ideas for him lmk!!

cw: fem reader, mentions of objectification of women and the D.E.N.N.I.S system ofc, lil smoochie smoo at the end but nothing nsfw, 1.4k words

Dennis stumbled out of the restaurant, abandoning his date and this old life of promiscuity behind, seemingly. He walked down the street, pulling out his phone. He entered your name into his contacts, ready to confess everything. Ready to tell you how much you mean to him. Ready to love you. But then he stopped. His finger hovered over the call button and he thought, "what am I doing?" It was the emotion of the situation that made him act with such heedlessness. He didn't even know if you felt that way about him, if you felt the same deep connection he did. For him, it was a feeling like no other. It felt like you got him in a way no one else did. With understanding and kindness too. But to you? Dennis could just be a good friend to you. And if that was the case, what was the point in risking it all? He took a deep breath, shoving his phone back in his pocket. No, he shouldn't act so incautiously.

In the following weeks, Dennis found himself falling deeper and deeper for you. Every action you took, every word you spoke. He found himself obsessing over it. He tried not to come off as creepy - although that was hard, this was Dennis. His still kept his distance as usual, but now with a growing infatuation. He believed he was portraying this neutrality to you well, but this facade was challenged today.

"Y'know what guys, I'm really excited for this date tonight," Dee began to explain as she sat at the bar with Dennis, Charlie, Mac, and you.

"Oh shut up, Dee, nobody cares about your stupid date," Mac barked. Degrading her as usual.

It was water off a duck's back for dee, "You're just jealous I have a date Mac." She rhymed off before taking another swig of her beer.

"How'd you get this one to go out with you, Dee?" Charlie began in defence of Mac, "What'd you do? Steal his dog?"

"What? God no, what the fuck are you talking about?" Dee said.

Dennis didn't involve himself in verbally bullying his sister as he usually would. Usually, he would come in with the worst, most grating jabs. Instead, he silently observed how you scrolled on your phone, occasionally taking a sip of your drink, noticing how your brows furrowed ever so slightly in frustration.

"Even if you do go on this date, Dee, the only way you'll get him to stay is if you steal his phone or something!" Mac snarled.

"Yeah, you stupid bird!" Charlie said, which resulted in loud laughter from the men.

"God, would you just leave her alone, you two? Do you have nothing better to do?" You snapped at them finally. Dennis noticed your frustration and wanting to support and comfort you, he responded;

"Yeah, guys, leave her alone. You're both so sad." Dennis said in his usual 'I'm not wrong about anything ever and you're stupid for being wrong' tone.

Silence. Everyone, including you, turns to face Dennis. Did he just defend Dee? The sister he swore he hated?

"Dennis, what did you just say?" Mac asked cautiously and filled with confusion.

"I said leave Dee alone."

Dennis didn't really care all that much about Dee. Really, all her cared about was proving to you he did. He wanted to be on your side, always. To have your approval.

"Thank you, Dennis," you agreed. Dennis's heart swelled. 'God, what's wrong with me?' he thought. He had never felt this many emotions ever. Never mind for one person.

"That was weird, right? Earlier? When Dennis, like, stood up for Dee?" Charlie asked Mac.

"Oh yeah! For sure! I have no clue why he did that. I mean, just yesterday me, you, Frank, and Dennis were ragging on her for being a failed actress." Mac replied, causing laughter between the pair at the thought of this previous discussion.

"So... what changed?" Charlie puzzled.

"Everyone was there, except.. except for her." Mac hypothesised that when you were there, Dennis avoided talking poorly of Dee.

"But why? What does she change?"

Mac shrugged, "Maybe he's trying to D.E.N.N.I.S her."

"Huh. Doesn't really seem like his usual type." Charlie said.

Dennis was definitely not trying to D.E.N.N.I.S you. He made that distinctly clear in his mind. He wasn't following the steps at all, going out of his way to avoid flirtation with you, actually, to avoid raising suspicions. And the final step, 'separate entirely,' was most certainly one he didn’t want to follow. He wanted to spend forever and ever with you. Why? He didn't understand it himself. He was Dennis Reynolds, the Golden God! How come he was acting so pathetic?

You were starting to notice his weird behaviour. You had known Dennis for years. He was never this.. clingy? Not that you minded, really. You had always thought he was attractive, sure - charismatic too - but his general objectification of woman and lack of interest in a stable and long-term relationship certainly deterred you. Still, though, you couldn't help but feel your heart shatter every time he would talk about the girl he was planning to go out with next. You had grown tougher over the years of knowing him, accepting that he would never change, and he would never see you like that. This new attention from his was definitely appreciated, but strange.

This all came to head a couple of weeks into this behaviour. You and Dennis sat in the bar together on a slow Tuesday. You had been testing him slightly. You were saying things to provoke him - small things. Things that would usually lead to a disagreement or argument or him going on a long Dennis rant. But he didn't budge. He didn’t roar obscenities or call you an idiot or react negatively at all. He would just nod and smile. And then he would agree. You couldn't take it. Was it some cruel joke? To get your hopes up or make you look stupid? You didn't get the punchline.

"Alright, Dennis, what's with you lately."

Dennis freezes. He feared you had picked up on his feelings towards you. He feared this would be the end of it all, and he had ruined it, and you would leave and he would never see you again.

"What do you mean?" Dennis replied. He was lucky he was such a good liar. He played coy well. But you didn't back down.

"You've been acting weird. You just agree with everything I say, and you're hanging around me a lot and like you keep not making fun of Dee when I'm here. You're always looking at me too. Is it some sort of joke I don't get? Are you making fun of me? That's mean."

Dennis felt emotions, oh god. He located that he felt regret and frustration and guilt and guilt and guilt. 'Mean'. He wasn't trying to be mean. She thought it was some sort of joke, but no. This was how he really felt. He really wanted to spend all his time admiring you, he wanted to agree with you on everything, that's all he could think about for the past month. And for once in his life, Dennis was at sea for words.

"I... I didn't..." Dennis attempted. But he couldn't convey his words in a safe manner. In a manner that meant if you didn't feel the same way it would be okay and you could keep being friends.

"I think I'm in love with you." Dennis sighed.

"It was after that date. With that chick. What was her name? Candy? Karen? Doesn't matter." Dennis rambled. "It was then when I realised I never want to be with anyone else, if not you. I don't think anyone had ever understood me the way you have. And I just spiralled after then? I haven't stopped thinking about you." That would be a creepy comment if it wasn't something you had always wanted to hear from him.

It was your turn to be speechless. Instead of saying anything your eyes scanned his face for any indication of falsehood. Nothing. You saw and expression on Dennis's face that you had never seen before. One that could be equated to not knowing the answer. Clueless. Maybe afraid? You open your mouth to speak again but Dennis cuts you off and speaks first. Like he's trying to drown out a negative response. Like covering your ears to block out the sound of a gunshot; the damage would still be done.

Dennis looked at you, waiting for the gunshot.

"Dennis.. I feel the same way. Of course I do, oh my God." You finally say. Your voice is small and hoarse, like you have never used it before. Quickly, before anyone can say anything else, Dennis envelops you in a kiss. A kiss that isn't filled with lust, something Dennis isn't used to. His lips lean into yours in a desperate attempt to convey his gratefulness and love and devotion to you. You grip at his sides. You understand.

[six-eyed-samurai]

SUMMARY: It's been back and forth the last few months between you and Hawks and finally you're both out for a date!...or not. You couldn't have ghosted him, right? A/N: About a couple years ago I was obsessed with Why Don't We so yes I'm using one of their songs LMAO sue me WARNINGS: GN reader and angst (it gets resolved I'm not evil!)

Oh, she talks so sweet, like sugar, like candy

It’s a first date and firsts are important, so he’s gotta be sure to make a good impression. A shower and a lot more to his normal concession to fanciness: the comb’s brushed through his hair more times than he count, tugged at the collar of his shirt wondering if it was too much, too casual, god it was getting kind of hot wearing it would it smell like sweat-

“I don’t mind. Smells like you.” Ah, that smirk that caused him to blush so badly and throw his hoodie at you. Okay, don’t worry so much. Just be your usual self.

Makes me wanna be the best man that I can be

He’s got the flowers, your favorite of course, and they were in full bloom when he walked past that florist. He’s prepared to pay the bill, ready to be the gentleman by rehearsing in his head what he’d do. Pull out your chair, compliment, a dinner place of your choice.

For you, nothing but the best, he swears in his head as he flies out into the night.

I like that she keeps things oh-so simple

The flirty game of cat and mouse the both of you had had going on before in his office was beyond fun and always left him wanting more of you - interactions, voice, touch. He made it obvious from the start that he was into you, what with his more than friendly suggestions, insistence on meals together and overprotectiveness should any of his sidekicks even think of looking at you.

It was startling to him that you had returned it though in the same gestures. He liked that about you; you didn’t beat around the bush and worked to get what you wanted.

In this case it was him and he wasn’t complaining.

Less stress, more uh, yeah, she got the dimples

It had taken exactly three months, one week and a half and five days for it to come to a head. One of you was going to crack and it was him, inevitably, when he dropped by with his daily pickup line and coffee for you. You’d flash that coy, sweet smile. “I might actually think you’re interested in me if you keep doing that.”

“What gave it away?” He made his standard, joking reply.

“I dunno. I said might. When you actually ask me out I’ll be convinced.”

I get scared when I think about the future

As a pro hero he had to think about the risks of having a significant partner who would become the target of much villain attacks, paparazzi and obsessed fans. As himself even he would admit the playboy image they painted and he supplied was not exactly flattering. As a normal person, was anyone really ready for commitment, potential heartbreak…?

But all this could be dealt with. It all faded to background noise, yadda yadda yadda…

Because, actually, now that he thought about it, had he OPENLY asked you out?

I'm a junk man, she's a promise abuser

“Well, when you do, I’ll say yes and I’ll be really, really interested as well.”

“Okay, will you go out with me for dinner tonight then?”

You blinked, opening and closing your mouth like a goldfish while he stared at you expectantly. “…um, what? I wasn’t…expecting…”

“You said you’d say yes!”

“Huh, I did say that.” You flashed another million watt smile. “Okay then. How about eight?”

Hell, I know that we're bad for each other

It’s been almost ten minutes - you must have run into traffic. Not unusual on a bustling night like this, with everyone in a terrible hurry to get, get, get somewhere. The tapping of his foot aligned with the ticking of the clock he was watching anxiously. He’s glad he had requested a more private table at the back to prevent fans from noticing their favorite Pro Hero, but now even more so he wouldn’t see the glances of pitying diners wondering who had stood him up so badly to see his hopeful face crack away bit by bit.

No, you wouldn’t ditch him like this. That was just cruel; you were a tease. You wouldn’t do this.

It’s the third refill of his cup when he finally accepts that you’re not coming.

I made my own bed but she tucked me under

A pathetic KFC dinner was not how he had envisioned the evening but that’s what he’s sitting with, hunched on his couch, wondering what went wrong.

Were you playing with him? Did you think he wasn’t serious? Were you offended he hadn’t come pick you up? Had you both somehow miscommunicated the date? Did you realize you didn’t actually want all the crap that came with being a Pro Hero’s significant other?

He chucked his trash into the bin and wished he could do the same with his emotional turmoil.

We did it for the hell of it

You didn’t even show up the next day at work - you must really be going that far to avoid him, huh?

Not like he’d bring it up, to be honest. It was embarrassing that he had managed to be duped so well, that he was rejected indirectly in public. It hurt that you didn’t even bother to answer ANY of his messages. It stung that he had no apology and he couldn’t say one himself because you. Weren’t. There.

But your jacket was, hanging forlornly by your chair, so internally he apologized and took it home to toss onto his bed-nest and fall asleep to the fading scent of you.

We did it for the good times and the bad ones

So this was what it was like to be hung up. 10/10 would not recommend, he decided. Usually he was distracted during hero work occasionally thinking about you, but now he still was and doing a sloppy job according to the Commission with his listless attitude and moping. Probably why they just about forced him to take a day off.

Nothing much to do. You hadn’t gone to work for a third day already. Who was he to text? Usually he’d be blowing up your phone with stupid pickup lines he found online, the silly stuff he’s seen people doing while flying, bad singing of whatever song he was listening to at that time. Sometimes it ended in not-so-coincidental meetups. You’d respond to every message with one just as ridiculous as his. Rumi only responded ”your crush not around?” when he spammed her instead.

Could’ve been more, he grumbled aloud. Could’ve been until you went AWOL after doing the equivalent of dumping him.

We didn't think about what shit might happen

He’s driving himself crazy. Over what? Over some crush? There were billions of other people who’d kill for the chance to go out with him.

But it was not some crush - it was you. He didn’t want the billions - he wanted you. It was the fourth day and your desk was still empty - where were you?

He asked around casually. Only Rumi gave him a knowing look. Nobody knew where you were. Your friend at the agency had mentioned you had been pretty excited about some date with a friend- hope? he wanted to think so - that day but since then there wasn’t any updates.

“What if a kidnapping happened?! Like those scammers who pretend to be a date and then end up drugging you instead?!”

He coughed. “Yeah…I don’t think that happened, don’t worry.”

But once you light a fire, it's gonna burn

On the fifth day he sent his fifteenth message.

No wonder you vanished, he grimaced. Nobody wanted a clingy texter who couldn’t take the hint. But here he was, finger hovering above the send button and scrolling past the plaintive texts of before: asks on when you were coming and were you going to be late and where were you, the occasional “guess what I saw today” that he’d usually send you when he was feeling braver, apologies for pestering you and making you uncomfortable with the date and the…never ending texts even though you were probably ghosting him by now.

Today he’d get over it, he repeated with finality and misery. One last “sorry” and on he’d move.

>>I'll be okay to keep it simple

The phone’s abandoned on the table for the rest of the night while he slams his head into his pillow, allowing himself a few moments to sulk one last time before heading into the shower after the long day of work (without you there).

He hopes you’ll at least see it. Maybe text back.

Then again that would probably rip open the wound wide once more so perhaps it was better if you ignored him. He could block you for good measure.

The shower pounded down on his head. No, he sighed, he couldn’t block you if he tried.

>>I'll stay outta your way and won't let you know

The ping on his phone indicating a text message alerts him but he figures it must be the paperwork that he’s been running away from (without your help there was no way he’d be able to do it) from catching up to him, so he takes his sweet time to leisurely change and blow dry his hair before he actually picks the phone up.

He falls back onto the bed. Stunned, shocked. Maybe a bit hopeful. Confused, crushed. Funny how just one message can do that.

Hawks, can you come to my house tonight? I need to talk to you<<

Of course, when has he ever refused you? He was out of the window before he even realized what he was doing and how damn stupid this all was, that he was setting himself up for another heartbreak, you were finally going to break it to him that you didn’t show up because you didn’t know how else to reject his pushy advances and oh shit he’s forgotten to wear his shoes properly and now they were falling off midair-

“I…wasn’t expecting you that fast.”

“I’m the Wing Hero?”

You allowed your face to curl into a broken smile. “Yeah, we all know that, birdbrain.”

Humans always want what they couldn’t have. You were dolled up so pretty for some reason, even in the horrible lighting coming from your living room behind you. He was glad the shadow fell on his face, standing at your door, so you wouldn’t see the heartbreak twisting his expression. Don’t call me birdbrain if you’re going to leave, he prayed.

“So,” he said to cut the awkward pause. “Why am I here?”

“I…it’s probably easier to explain inside. Come on in.”

It's not the first time he's been in but he's pretty surprised to see your dining table pushed out, covered in a tablecloth and decorated with the whole nine yards: dinner for two, candles and flowers. Is this how you're really gonna toy with him before breaking it off?

You take him by the arm and lead him there, half pulling out a chair for yourself before he interrupts plainly. “You didn't have to do all this.”

“Yeah, well, I really wanted to-”

“You could've just told me you didn't want to go out with me. Not stand me up and just, what, vanish without telling anyone?!”

“Hawks-”

“You didn't have to do this.” Why couldn't you spare him pain instead? He was a fool, yes, but no reason for you to let him be this foolish.

He shuts his eyes to trap the water and when he opens them his face is suddenly smooshed between your cradling palms while you force him to look at you and your serious, pleading expression.

“Hawks, will you listen to me? Please?”

“Listening,” he tried to say, but since his mouth was partially squished he nodded instead. Also his throat was blocking, probably from the almost-crying.

“I’m not playing with you when I say I can explain everything - I was actually on my way to the date when I got a call from my mom. My dad's health isn't the greatest right now so I had to rush back to my hometown after he had a bad fall. My phone's battery died that night and where my parents live don't exactly have the greatest of Internet connections so I was literally cut off from everyone. I came back once he was okay and so…” You take a deep breath and remove a hand to gesture around. “I really do like you, Hawks, so if you want we can redo the date?”

Perhaps his eyes were watering thanks to the candles or flower allergies. He buried his face into your neck, arms wrapped tight around you. Your hand stroked through his hair. “Don't scare me like that again.”

“I'd never ditch you like that, birdbrain.”

“Can we skip straight to the part where we kiss now?”

I need your love tonight

I need your love