#truly didn’t realize exactly how much I love this show until now

[voidhope]

The Other Woman

(Part 2 FINALE)

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Synopsis: Miguel had left Y/N for another version of his old wife in hopes of getting his old life back. To only realize the mistakes he’s made.

Link to Part 1

Pair: Miguel O’Hara x Spider!reader

Warnings: very heavy mental health, ANGST LIKE A LOT OF ANGST, ALL OF THIS IS ANGST, mentions of death/almost dying, long term establish relationship, cheating, swearing, therapy, physical fight, blood, feral protective miguel?

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A/N: hello again! this one is more heartbreaking and longer than the first part oof… Very low dialog up until closer towards the end! wanted to just get through telling the story itself and the emotions. It’s just a very heavy storyline!! I want to say thank you so so much for showing so much support for part 1 i had no idea it would receive that much attention :O !! i wrote this out kinda fast as i didn’t want to loose the momentum of the idea. so apologies for any mistakes! all feedback is greatly appreciated ~

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You used to make Miguel coffee everyday, with one cream two sugars, and he would nag about how he hated the taste. It was to your liking, not his. As you would sneakily take sips out of his mug while working next to him. Why didn’t you just get your own coffee? You claimed you could never finish it and just wanted a taste out of his. Miguel would roll his eyes at you every time he caught you but he adored it. He had secretly grown to love the way you made it and had become his only way of making coffee after meeting you.

Now as this version of his older wife made it the way he is suppose to like coffee, bland and straight, he found himself bothered by it. Going as far to correct her even though this was what he had been claiming to have missed so much. He was now seeing himself teaching someone else how to love him like you did…

He was only a shell of the man he was when he had Gabriella. Even though the copy of his old wife has her same personality, the relationship couldn’t be exactly how it was before because he had changed so much. You had helped him become whole again. His tastes and likings had all switched to everything about you. The charm he found in his old wife doesn’t hold a light to you now and he was getting frustrated. He had wanted this so badly. He felt like those babies who whine and cry wanting to eat a lemon and once they get their way they realize the sour truth.

Miguel never truly realized what it was like to loose you until three weeks after he told you the truth. Over the years the idea of losing you terrified him but he only ever thought of it being in death. He never considered separation when everything was perfect for both of you then. There were times he believed that you were made just for him and he treated you like his queen. Which you truly were to him in his spider society. Why would he ever throw that away? Look at what he did.

He gave himself every excuse in the book before you knew he was cheating on you. ‘This is only for research.’ he would think every time he found himself back in that universe. As everyone knew he was so serious about his work, obviously this is just him getting to know more about certain universes and canons. Lyla was the only one seeing straight through him knowing where he was actually going. Things kept tumbling and the more he found out about the place and spent time with her the more his grief and yearning returned. It was all just there, so reachable.

There was a time his mind tried to snap him back out of it while cheating on you and made him realize the guilt. The first time he kissed this woman you were there in his mind. He came home right after and held you without saying a word. You never questioned him, just showed him comfort as much as you could. Lightly stroking his back, you never over stepped or pushed him when he was vulnerable with you. He only closed his eyes and held onto you tighter processing how you were always too good for him. He was converting to living two different lives; his old self during the day and then coming home to you. He didn’t want to let go of either at the time.

Once he found out he could safely have Gabriella again was when he became distant with you. The shame of using you for research made him become stoic. He didn’t want to admit how wrong he was treating you. All while you were always being so loyal and trusting towards him. Things were slowly slipping through the cracks and he knew he couldn’t up keep it. He wished he could have had that conversation with you so much differently but it was over. Now he had his old life back, a dream he had his mind set on.

He ignored the shakiness in his hands when he returned to her after letting you go. ‘It’s all for the best.’ is what he would repeat in his mind as a mantra. His new girlfriend truly had no idea who he really was or what his background was. Miguel continued to feed her lies to the point where he even started believing them himself getting too lost in avoiding what he’s done. He believed he was happy as he spent time with her.

When she got too close to finding the truth after finding his wedding ring in one of his pockets, he set her off course from it by revealing his spider identity and taking her to HQ. This was the day that everything felt like it was crashing around him. Being reminded of his marriage, having to face his friends with his new lover, sharing his personal spider life, his work with someone who wasn’t you. He excused himself rushing to an unused office room while his chest was tightening. Pupils dilating as he realized it was his first time having a panic attack.

Nevertheless he continued to push it all aside and act completely normal with his girlfriend. He was feeling your absence the most while working. You had became an extension of him. He had trained you from scratch and you helped him build this society he has now. You knew the ins and outs of everything and fought perfectly alongside him. Now that he was on his own he let his girlfriend be there for him when he got stressed, but there always was a knot in his stomach he never could get rid of.

The more his mental health ate at him late at night the more he considered searching out for you. There was no closure between both of you and he never got to listen to how you feel. What was your opinion on all that happened? Do you hate him?

He wanted to speak with someone so badly but he dug himself in a hole too deep. You were gone, he was lying through his teeth to this poor woman he’s kept for some fantasy, he felt too ashamed to say anything to his friends, he would rather die if all his workers found out how big of a piece of shit he is. Anytime Lyla tried peeping a word that wasn’t work related he would snap. He had pushed everyone away and now he just felt alone.

Regardless he would wake up in the morning and swallow all his dark feelings. He would remember his grief of when he lost his family and it would put him back in the moment. He has another chance. He was happy with the direction he was going in now.

Right?

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The day he found out you were at HQ he felt his heart stop. He was mid mission trying to call for Lyla but she wouldn’t answer. Frustrated he tried looking into what was happening only to see her busy having a conversation with you. It felt like something took over him when he opened a portal in less than a second. Without thinking nor wasting a heartbeat he rushed back. Just a glimpse of you, maybe just to hear a word out of your mouth. The feeling of having you back in HQ was making him ignore all his insecurities. How he would coward at the thought of trying to reach out to you before. You were in his home, your home, and the thought drove him wild.

You were already long gone though. Lyla stared at him not saying a word. The quietness in the room making his ears ring but his thoughts were screaming in his head. He stood there frozen still trying to recollect himself. He was the one that left you, what is wrong with him?

Again he went back and forth in his own head trying to convince himself ‘You wanted this.’ but if he did why is he feeling like someone just killed a puppy in front of him? Why is he here fighting with his self if this is really his dream? Why did he try chasing after you? The wounds of his past grief were too deep. He never took the time to properly heal and now look at what he’s become.

“Miguel, what’s this?” He was startled turning around seeing his girlfriend holidng your watch and skimming through the divorce paperwork addressed to him.

There was no more hiding, no more lying. He swallowed hard even though his throat was dry. He let everything he had kept away rise to surface. It hurt him to see the beautiful face his old wife shared contort into such anger and pain while finding the truth.

She didn’t stay, but for some reason he wasn’t upset. Though he longed for his daughter, he knew it would have never been the same now. He finally closed the door on his past. His heart had made the choice this time but it’s too late. Now grasping onto the divorce papers left by you, emptiness spread through his soul.

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You on the other hand did not find yourself crying by yourself on a rooftop for long. The shift in the air from your arrival alerted the local spider-man immediately.

“It didn’t work out, did it?” He crouched down next to you as he noticed your watch gone and your missing wedding band.

Peter Parker knew both you and Miguel. Your husband had come to do many rounds of research in this universe when he took you. Eventually offering this Peter a spot in the society, which he politely declined due to just being busy enough here. You both never spoke much but always had an appreciation for each other.

“Do you need a place to crash at?” He continued while trying to get you to look at him. Reaching his hand towards you.

You had absolutely no one and you had been gone so long you couldn’t even go back to the little you had. When you met Miguel you didn’t hesitate to never look back and now it filled you with regret. How naive were you to put all your trust and reliance on him.

You took Peter’s hand. You were ready to start your own life and be your own person now.

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Peter Parker was nice enough to let you stay with him as long as you needed it. You both had became ‘besties!’ as he would love to poke at you. The first month with him you were a disaster really but he showed you how he liked to cope using his spider abilities.

The first thing he helped you with was getting a new suit. Your old one resembled too much to Miguel’s and you felt suffocated every time you put it on. Peter had taught you to use your current emotional pain on whichever sad little villain was making trouble out in Brooklyn that night.

“Come on, we got multiverse spider-woman helping me keep these streets clean now!” He would taunt at the men while watching you easily take them out a little bit too aggressively. His feet kicking up and down while he sat on the side of a building watching you. The crime rate did go down a bit once word got around how strong your punch was. Peter’s just happy he can now spend some nights to himself.

You got yourself a job at the mart on the corner to help cover bills for Peter and save up. You were grateful enough the owners never batted an eye when you would disappear during a shift to either suddenly go cry uncontrollably or beat the shit out of someone at a nearby robbery. Next thing you were enrolling yourself back in university, wanting to finish that degree you never did.

It wasn’t too long that some of your older spider friends would stop by to check in on you. Seeing them was difficult sometimes, you were internally itching to ask about Miguel. Things were going okay for you on a very slow path of breathing step by step. You never wanted to feel that hurt again and so you very well pretend like Miguel didn’t exist if you could.

You couldn’t ignore the hurt resurfacing when you passed couples on the street. Or when you found yourself going to fidget with your wedding ring just to remember it’s gone. You can’t just move on from a relationship that was so deeply apart of you and lasted so long. You gave everything to him and it will take you much time to get yourself to build trust again.

After two semesters, you finally had your graduation. All the things you learned while in Earth-928 paid off as you barley had to study. Passing top of the class, you immediately got an offer for an internship opportunity with Alchemax and was able to get an introduction tour of the building beforehand.

What you hadn’t realized was that Alchemax had been looking for that girl who snuck into their offices a couple years ago. Who made another dimension’s spider appear and then went missing herself soon after. They had kept as close tabs on you as they could and how foolish you were to think your little break in wouldn’t come back to bite you. The moment you stepped foot back in their building, it was over for you.

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Miguel had spent a whole year in much deserving therapy. Nothing could stop the embarrassment he felt when Peter B signed him up with HQ’s best spider-therapist after 3 months of constant out bursts. No one could come near the man when he felt like he had lost everything. Those first initial months were difficult for everyone around him.

Therapy did help, he hates to admit it, but it was a very rough ride. He finally was able to understand his deep inner term oil and heal his issues but moving on from you? No, he could never.

You were the only one who had sincerely stood by his side, always rooting for him. He never fell out of love with you despite of everything that he did. He just pushed everything down too deep and was blinded by obsession. Till now he could never deny that he still loves you. Maybe if he just would have went to therapy years ago instead of acting out on unsolved grief none of this would have happened. The guilt always making him toss and turn at night.

He would have big temper tantrums when he would find his coworkers going to visit you time to time and not sharing any details. He needed to know if you’re okay. Did you already move on? He longed to find you and speak with you but he knew he wasn’t ready yet. He was so self destructive and this was what he deserved.

Everyone avoided him completely when he overheard someone saying you were living with Peter Parker. Fighting crime with him and having a cute little home life. Peter followed you around now like a puppy. Miguel did not take the news well at all. Let’s just say, the large bill replacement for his monitor screens was what snapped him out of that rage.

He also wanted to strangle Hobie Brown every time he saw a glint in his eye when your name was mentioned around. Yet Miguel couldn’t hate the kid either, as Hobie was one of the people to try help repair the damage he did to you. How badly he just wanted to hold you and shield you in his arms from any other people taking you from him as if he wasn’t the idiot to let you go in the first place.

Everyone’s big, powerful, scary boss was really just a grumpy, wallowing-in-self-pity, sensitive, lonely man now. Mention your name too much to him and watch him start crying or take it out on whatever he could find nearest to him. He would some nights scroll through your wedding photos while listening to your last tracked log with Lyla. Your words cutting through him deep like long sharp knives. How he urged to go tell you it was all wrong and how guilty he was for making you feel like this.

Despite it all, he still believed in being the best of the best. He used his work to distract himself from his sorrows, to become numb. Even though his divorce paperwork were set next to him on his desk to remind him the pain. He never signed it.

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“We can’t tell him!” Jessica gritted through her teeth. Small group of spider-people were hovered around Lyla taking in the new found information.

“Her canon events have always been uncertain, we can’t just stop and fix this one?” Gwen Stacy suggested in hopes.

“We have never prevented a canon event of hers or the people involved in it. It could be even more dangerous than a regular canon.” Peter B spoke grimly.

“When ‘as danger ever stopped us?” Hobie spoke up.

“Everyone get your gear.” Lyla added to the stress of the situation.

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You couldn’t open your eyes properly with a strong blinding light being held above you. Arms and legs secured on top of a metal surgical table. You could feel the warmth of blood scattered on certain parts of your body, slowly starting to dry. It was a mix of yours and the people you had tried fighting through to get out of here when you realize the trap you were reeled into. Different people in lab coats poked and pried all around you while you were tied. Your mask was thrown on another table and your suit had large gashes across it.

Soon you also could feel the presence of Peter Parker being brought to the room, thrown slumped in the corner breathing heavily. They had gotten you too good. They knew everything and had planned this so detailed.

“Now you’re going to help me open the multiverse.” Kingpin loomed around you. All you could feel was searing pain as a laser aimed right at your chest.

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Miguel was already staring out the window to the glowing night lights of Nueva York when he saw a big hole appear in sight of the skyline. His eyebrows furrowed while he was trying to process what he was looking at. It wasn’t a second later when all alarms started going off in his office.

“Qué carajos?” He exclaimed seeing the alerts of a possible universe collapse. “Lyla! Why wasn’t this being taken care of already?”

“I already sent people.”

“Then what are they doing?” He yelled. His confusion and anger only furthered when he saw a red alarm for a canon event.

“Canon event?” He whispered to himself. He always knew when these were happening, there were none scheduled for today. There was no way he would let one passed him, it’s not like this could magically appear? His jaw dropped in realization… a new canon event.

“Lyla, tell me the truth. Why wasn’t this reported to me?” He made the atmosphere turn cold. She knew he already figured it out.

“A new canon event was received this morning being given to Peter Parker. Of Y/N L/N’s death.” The words from Lyla made Miguel’s body go still. His eyes raced side to side while he processed it.

“No!” He roared, a fist slamming into the nearby desk. His massive strength breaking it in half.

“Boss, you can’t go on this mission only using your emotions.” Lyla warned. However Miguel was already half way stepping through a portal to find you.

He appeared, watching his team struggle to shut down the machine causing the collapse. Outnumbered by the amount of Alchemax puppets. A different kind of rage filled him as he saw you, for the first time in a year, suffering. Miguel was never one to act reckless while on missions but he had no plan here and just ran off the pure adrenaline the fight or flight had hit him with.

His claws tore into the backs of his enemies as he jumped beast-like across the room. Not hesitating spilling blood across the wall while he took everyone down as fast as he could. His team could only watch wide eye with an unsettling fear as they saw Miguel lose himself to his spider sense. While he fought they took the opportunity to take apart the machine.

Miguel was panting heavily, pupils blown wide glowing red, and fangs dripping with venom as the room slowly silenced. Kingpin laid on the floor slowly trying to drag himself after being beaten to a pulp. It was over. Peter B stopped him from doing anything further. Knowing Miguel would kill the man, Peter B let the team finish up to give Kingpin to authorities. Miguel turned frantically to look at you seeing the other spiders step away. Peter Parker was hunched over you in tears. Miguel fought the urge to snap at Peter and grab his hands off of you.

Your vision was too blurry and everything felt like it was burning. A shape that seemed too familiar came into your peripheral vision and you tried to push yourself up.

“Miguel?” Was the last thing you croaked before slumping back passing out. Miguel catching you in his arms before you could hurt yourself further.

“It’s her time.” Jessica spoke behind him. Yet he was refusing to let go. He had never defied the way the timeline worked since he created his society. He would never break the rules and you both had promised each other before not to. If there was a situation like this you both agreed to save the universe first. How stupid was he to think he would listen to that now facing it in-front of him.

He never got to tell you what happened. He never got to apologize. He never got to tell you one more time that he loved you. Even if you in result just spat in his face, at least he was able to talk to you one more time. You were never a placeholder or someone to fill a hole in his heart. His whole heart belonged to you and he couldn’t let you go thinking you didn’t mean anything to him. No matter the consequences, he needed to tell you.

“Call all the teams to control the damage of a possible universe collapse.” He turned to Jess with Y/N tightly in his arms. The spider-people watched speechless as he opened a portal and disappeared.

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Two weeks you laid motionless in the HQ’s medbay.

The clean up after breaking the canon was a little intense. They were able to get it under control as the event started to fade from your timeline once you were returned and starting to heal in Earth-928.

The spider society would remain silent near the medbay. The lights always being dimmed and hushed whispers between staff to not bother the distressed O’Hara. He refused to leave.

Your Peter Parker had now joined the team, much to Miguel’s dismay. Everyday your friends would come in and check to see how you were. Some telling stories about their day or any gossip updates you missed, in hopes that it would get you to wake up. They would ignore the gloomy Miguel who was basically glued to the seat next to you not saying a word to anyone.

At night Miguel would play with your fingers and softly stroke your hair all while pleading “Please don’t leave me, please don’t leave me. Por favor mi alma.” He knew it wasn’t his place to beg this after what he did, but he didn’t mind the words falling on deaf ears.

Miguel hadn’t eaten in days, he felt too nauseous from anxiety to even try anything. Pavitr had done the favor to bring you and Miguel’s favorite empanadas from a small street vendor downtown. Hoping to get Miguel to at least try the food before he ended up in a hospital bed next to you due to starvation.

You started to blink open your eyes, spots surrounding your vision. You could hear a soft breathing to your right side and you slowly felt your sense come back one by one. It felt like you just had a really rough nap.

“Oh my god that smells so good.” You moaned, sitting yourself up to try to look at where the smell of food was coming from.

You were met with a wide eyed Miguel holding a box of empanadas. His jaw slacked open acting as if he’s seen a ghost looking at you. Confusion hit you first for a second and then you start to panic.

Why was he here? Why was your ex-husband sitting right here? You started to push away from him and Miguel caught on to your panic.

“No, no, no mi amor stop.” He tried calming you. “You’re hurt, you’re going to open your stitches.”

You suddenly remembered everything that happened right before you blacked out. At that moment you forgot the hurt you had towards your ex-lover. Gathering yourself you just stared at him. “I’m suppose to be dead.”

Tears rimmed your eyes. Why did it feel like life just hated you so much?

Miguel engulfed you in his arms as you started to cry. You didn’t care right now. You had ached for this feeling again, so alone, with the comfort Miguel used to bring you. Just for a moment you could pretend like how it was before.

“We can’t do this Miguel.”

He knew what you were thinking. He didn’t want to let you leave his arms yet, as he let his self hold harder and push your head closer into his the crook of his shoulder. The tickle of your breath on his neck, he just wanted this forever.

“She left. Almost a year ago.” He let out to you. A big weight coming off of his chest. You pulled back from him and looked up into his eyes while you watched him avoid your gaze. You felt bad to say you could feel a bit of satisfaction bubbling in you.

“Good, she deserved better.”

“So did you.” Miguel sighed playing with his hands. Your eyes widened when you saw the ring still on his finger. He let you stare. “I-I could never. I couldn’t.” The emotions struggle to come out of his mouth. You understood him though. You always did. Placing your hand on top of his you just nodded.

“Please stay here.” He whispered.

Miguel had broken you in so many ways. Yet he almost ruined another universe just to keep you alive. You both needed time to talk and coming out a coma right now isn’t good timing.

“I finally became my own person when I went back in my universe. I enjoyed my independence.” The words pelleted at him. He could only hold his breath as he waited for you to continue. “I’ll stay… but not for you.”

It wounded him deeply; but he deserved it. This place will always be a home for you even if he wasn’t apart of it. Before he can tear his gaze and turn away, you reached out to hold his face close to yours. Your fingers gently rubbing on his cheeks as you slowly look at him properly after so long. You let your thumb smooth over his frown lines and he leaned into your touch closing his eyes.

“Let’s give us time.” Was the words you blessed that opened every door of hope he could find. He would take it, he would absolutely take it. He has to fight for you, he has to prove to you. He would do anything but for now he’ll be on his best patiently waiting for you.

Both of you sat comfortably without speaking, only the faint background beeps of the hospital monitor making up for the silence, while passing small glances. For once both of you felt a missing warmth you didn’t realize you needed. Sharing empanadas with each other, just maybe it will be alright…

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The end!!! Thank you so so much for your time in reading my story. i really really was so happy with all the comments and feedback on pt 1 it really meant a lot!!!

i hope this was ok ~ i apologize for how long it was i was thinking of doing another part but just wanted to finish this up. I was in such a conflict how to end this. i hope it wasn’t too cliche or anything i’m just a sucker for very wanty needy dramatic stories. It’s a hopeful ending tho~ i couldn’t pick with just happy or sad.

So many of you had tons of amazing suggestions which I appreciated so much. I was such a mess trying to figure it all out. Many of you wanted to see Y/N move on with another person but I ended up going this route. I used Peter Parker as an obv character in y/n’s universe but it’s not tied to any specific one and you guy can think of him more to your liking if you want to!

If any of you would like a small drabble or imagine of another route of this story or just anything angsty/possessive and rarwrarwbarkbark miguel. I’d be glad to help lol!! My request box is wide open~ i had so much fun writing this!

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[rustedhearts]

the one where rafe shows his true colors…

rolly’s blurbs

“get in the truck.”

the slow crunch of gravel follows you at snail’s pace down the road. flanked by heavy willows and the fading hum of young-adult-debauchery, you feel safer on the one-way road back home than you do in small confines with rafe.

the truck headlights beacon over the dirt, and he has the windows rolled all the way down to hang out from. his signet ring glints in the corner of your eye when his hands twitch, but you don’t look over. you glare straight ahead and keep a steady, nonchalant pace. arms crossed, sweater wound tight around your waist.

you refuse to let him know he’s rattled you, though everyone at the house now thirty paces behind you knows he did.

and despite the blowout between the pair of you in the corner of the laundry room, rafe seems more concerned with finding the right song. beats start only to abruptly end as he bangs on the skip button.

“honey. just get in.”

he sounds bored. he sounds expectant.

he sounds like what just happened is going to happen again.

and something about that thought wires your mouth shut. it sends a cold shock through your chest and in the cool autumn evening, you shiver.

you thought he loved you. you thought you loved him. but you couldn’t love a man like this.

rafe settles on a song and it pulses through the truck with heavy bass. he turns it down until it’s nothing but a low buzz.

“jesus, just—just get in the truck.”

he’s losing the steadiness to his voice. he’s getting impatient, and you just saw what happens when he gets impatient.

“i want to walk home, rafe,” you tell him, and it’s far too kind.

much too quiet for what he just did to you.

“what? no. no, get—honey, just get in the truck.”

you speed up a little. truly, you didn’t mean to. you just want him to go away, leave you alone. you need to breathe and even in all the open air of the night, you can’t fucking breathe.

the tires give a little whir when he speeds up to match your pace.

and now you’re running away. from him?

rafe leans further out of the window, and you jump when he bangs his hand hard on the steel door.

“get in the fucking truck!”

your eyes begin to burn, blurring with wetness. you sniffle and wipe your nose with the cuff of your sleeve, feel your chin quiver. there’s so much aching in your chest and it hurts.

the truck comes to a hard stop, and you’re a few paces ahead when rafe disrupts the yellow glow of the headlights. it’s dark for only a split second before he’s on the road behind you, a big and heavy force of heat.

“goddamn it, stop,” he barks sternly.

his hand stops you himself, latching onto your elbow to whip you around. you instantly plant your hand on the center of his chest for distance.

“rafe,” you gasp.

that’s why you were here. for this exactly. his hand around your arm, his jaw clenched tight, his eyes like small slits under angled brows. that distant look he only gets when he’s coked out—but now, you realize it’s how he looks when he’s upset, too.

it’s a quick but miserable realization.

he’s high. he gets angry when he’s high.

he hurts you when he’s high. shoves you into the washer of his friend’s house and yells so loudly that people start poking their head into the room to check on you. towers over you until you cower. grabs you so hard it stings. growls at you like a spoiled child until your heart hammers.

“don’t look at me like that,” he demands, pulling you closer and forcibly bending your arm between your chests. “you have to learn your place here.”

the tears burn intensely on their way out. a scoff shoots from your mouth and it’s thick with disbelief and the onset of a cry.

“my place? what—“

“d-don’t what me. don’t what me. i’m in charge here, alright? i am.”

you give your arm a tug, use the other to push as hard as you can. “let go of me.”

“get in the truck.”

your hand stings when it makes contact on his cheek. “no! no, you’re fucking crazy. let me go, rafe.”

you’re crying now, whimpering out words you can’t tell if you mean. you love him, it aches so horribly in your heart. but he isn’t supposed to love you like this.

this wasn’t the rafe four months clean and doing well. this wasn’t the rafe that brought you flowers and kissed your cheek. this wasn’t the rafe that asked where you wanted to go to dinner, that listened when you rambled from across the candlelit table.

this wasn’t the rafe you knew.

it was the rafe you’d been warned about. the rafe you promised no longer existed.

the rafe he promised no longer existed.

“you’ll leave,” he mumbles and he was stepping closer again, his cheek flaming red and white in the shape of your fingers. “if i let go, you’ll leave.”

a snotty sniffle answers him. his fingers loosen on your arm.

“you can’t treat me like this, rafe.”

his touch softens to a cradle. his hands move down to your waist, molding to the divots above your hips.

“i know,” he coos. “i know, baby. i-i didn’t mean to.”

“you’re high.”

he sighs, head falling to your shoulder. he tips it, nose dragging along your neck. his shoulders are hunched, knees a little bent to fold into you.

“jus’ did a bump. one time, baby, promise.”

you close your eyes, squeezing a tear loose across his neck. your hands ball together tightly at your sides. he runs his hands up and down your waist under the flaps of your sweater. his thumbs massage into your stomach. his breath is hot on your neck.

“i love you,” he whines. “i love you, i do. i’m sorry.”

you bring your hand to his back, letting your fingers unfurl. they splay flat across his t-shirt, and soon you find yourself petting him. comforting him.

“i know. i love you, too.”

you find yourself asking—as he stands to his height and laces your hands together—just how much.

he hoists you into the passenger of the truck and clicks your belt on. takes your head in his hands and tugs you down to kiss your head. he turns the radio dial and boosts the bass of the music as the truck zooms down the road toward his house.

you’ll stay the night in his bed, in his clothes, and let him kiss the bruise from the corner of the washing machine like it was meant to be there.

evidently, you realize:

a little too much.

[alittlebitofloveliness]

It’s not until he’s already whaling on the kid that Paul realises exactly who it is he’s decided to jump.

He’d been out for a drive with Ty, shooting the shit and showing off the new Camaro his dad bought him for his birthday when they spotted the greaser kid- a guy with slicked back reddish brown hair, small but tough looking like all the kids from the east side, walking alone down one of the back roads. One look and a grin shared with Ty was all it took before he was shooting down the street, forcing the kid to jump into the ditch or risk getting run over.

Ty had laughed, mirth shining in his handsome green eyes as the greaser sprang to his feet, swearing colourfully. Paul wasn’t gonna pretend to have any sort of love for the east side, but he couldn’t deny that greaser folk didn’t turn out any sissies. For all the kid probably wasn’t more than fourteen, his greyish eyes didn’t show a trace of fear. Annoyance more than anything, and something that looked like…recognition, maybe? Didn’t matter much. What came next was the fun part- greasers didn’t break easy. It was always fun to see how much they could take before they finally started crying for their mothers.

In the time it took for Paul and Tson to get out of the car, the greaser had snatched up a broken beer bottle and leaned into a defensive slouch.

“Hey Buddy,” Ty grinned.

“Fuck off.” The kid spat, gripping the bottle tighter. Paul took a step closer to him and…there! The kid’s eyes- which had been laser focused on him and Ty- flashed left. 

“Not so fast,” Paul stepped sideways, effectively boxing the kid in. In the ditch, with a barbed wire fence from an old farm at his back, the camaro blocking any escape to the right, Ty in front of him, and now Paul at his left, the kid was well and truly trapped. Paul could see the moment he realized it, a flash of unease flitting over his face before smoothing into a tough mask once more.

“You know Ty,” Paul said, “I think this kid needs to learn some manners. And I think we should teach them to him. What do you think?”

Ty grinned. “Y’know Paul, I think you’re right.”

The kid spat at him. Saliva dripped down Ty’s face, his friend apparently too stunned to do anything but blink at him. 

The greaser snickered.

Paul lunged. 

For all the kid’s bravado and tough facade, even with that bottle in his hand, he’s still just a kid. Paul is twenty now, a linebacker for the University of Alabama, not afraid of a kid who could swing a bottle but not hard enough. He’s got him down in a second. 

The first punch shatters the kid’s nose, blood immediately pouring down his face. It still takes two more hits before he starts screaming. When he does, Paul’s blood runs cold

“Darry!” The kid, no longer tough looking by any means, cries out, “Darry help! Darry!”

The name, torn from the past Paul had worked so hard to forget, pulls him up short. He remembers now, Darry Curtis always speaking with fond exasperation about his two little brothers, about how one of them always tracked mud through the house and drove their mother crazy, and the other one climbed trees and got stuck in them because he couldn’t remember how to get down.

He also remembers the time Darry found out someone was picking on his brother, the one who was a freshman back when they were seniors. They practically had to peel the guy off the pavement when Darry was done with him.

Shit.

There’s a lot of things he remembers about Darry Curtis. He can’t decide whether they make him wish he’d punched the kid harder or never punched him at all.

The kid, Darry’s little brother, takes advantage of Paul’s brief distraction, bucking his hips and rolling. It’s a good maneuver, one that probably would have managed to throw Paul off if it weren’t for Ty grabbing the kid’s hair and slamming his head back against the ground.

Ty starts punching him then, and all Paul can do is sit there half frozen, seeing Darry’s eyes in someone else's face, his sharp jawline framing someone else’s mouth, his weird, sticking out ears on someone else’s head, all the features beat to a bloody pulp.

And all the while the kid keeps screaming.

“Darry! Soda! Help! Johnny, Steve, Dally, anyone! Please! Darry!”

It’s too much. Whatever he and Darry once had, whatever happened between them, no matter how bad it ended, it shouldn’t have come to this. There shouldn’t be a mixture of dark satisfaction and soul crushing guilt warring in his heart at the sight of Darry’s brother bloody and bruised. 

Ty’s fist raises once again and the kid on the ground flinches, cries.

Paul reaches out to grab Ty’s shoulder, to tell him it’s enough, that they should get out of here, to escape from the memories and the guilt and the rage.

He never gets a chance.

“‘Hey asshole!” Before he can grab Ty’s shoulder someone else grabs his shoulder and punches him hard enough he feels his teeth rattle in his skull. He stumbles back, clutching his cheek and looks up into the coldest eyes he’s ever seen, a glittering, intelligent, blue-so-deep-it’s-black shining with malice. A thick scar peeks out of his attacker’s hairline, but other than that the guy’s smooth brown skin is largely unmarked, features handsome in a dangerous sort of way. His head tilts, the way a cat’s might before it pounces on its prey, as he pulls a switchblade from his pocket, clicking it open. The handle is worn but the blade is no joke, six inches of razor sharp steel, glittering in the sunlight. 

Paul gulps. He’s not stupid enough to bring fists to a knife fight and he sure as hell doesn't have a blade on him.

The guy notices because he grins, revealing pearly white teeth and canines just a bit sharper than the average person’s.

Paul opens his mouth, to say what exactly he isn’t sure, but before he can he’s interrupted by a scream. Except this time it’s not the kid’s- it’s Ty’s.

He whirls with a gasp to see Darry Curtis on top of Ty, knuckles already bloody from hitting him so hard. Beside them, the greaser kid has managed to pull himself to his knees, an impressive feat considering the state he’s in.

Questions and emotions swirl through Paul’s head so fast he feels dizzy. How could Darry have snuck up on them so fast and so quietly? Did he really hear the kid screaming? Who’s the guy with him?

The guy with him…

His distraction is his fatal mistake, because he turned his back on the guy with the knife, who has him in a headlock with a blade against his throat before he can so much as yell.

“So,” the guy with the knife says in his ear. He’s disarmingly casual, for all he could kill Paul at any moment if he so chose, “you’re the famous Paul, huh?”

Fear, cold and paralyzing, floods through him.

“How the fuck do you know my name?”

The guy with the knife chuckles, grabbing him by the hair and forcing him to watch as Ty’s face gets bloodier and bloodier, his handsome features turned into a crime scene. There’s an almost animalistic rage in Darry’s eyes, a look Paul’s only seen once before, and he knows that when Darry pulls his punches it will only be because he feels justice has been served.

“I know everythin’ that happens in this town,” the knife at his neck doesn’t waver so much as an iota, as his captor laughs again, “and I heard a lot about you Paul Holden. Football star but never good enough to be captain. A bigger petty thief than half us east side boys, but daddy always bought you out of it. And apparently a big fan of jumping little kids- y’know, like a coward.”

Paul growls, trying to twist loose from the guy’s hold, but the greaser is stronger than his wiry frame belies, and he’s still got the advantage of a knife in hand. He presses it close enough that a small bead of blood wells against the steel and Paul stops struggling.

“Maybe I am a coward,” Paul grits out, panting, whether from fear or exertion he doesn’t know, “but Darry Curtis isn’t any braver than me.”

The knife bites into his neck a tad deeper. 

“Darry isn’t the one who just jumped a little kid.”

Paul grins. “That’s not what I meant.”

“You’re full of shit.” The guy’s voice is as measured and cool as ever, but the grip on Paul’s hair tightens painfully and he knows he’s hit a nerve.

“Maybe,” Paul admits, “but I’m not wrong. You’re his new guy, right? Well he fucks good but he’ll betray you in the end, just like he did me-”

A burning flash and his cheek is suddenly pouring blood.

“Watch. Your. Mouth.” The guy snarls, “Or next time I won’t just cut your pretty face I'll cut your damn throat.” 

Paul falls silent, not willing to call his bluff. Mostly because he isn’t entirely sure the guy is bluffing. Whoever Darry’s got himself mixed up with now is a whole lot more dangerous to him and probably for him than Paul ever was.

Figures.

He focuses back on Ty and Darry’s fight. Darry’s got a black eye and a small cut on his temple, so apparently Ty has managed to fight back a little, but he’s still a lot worse off, still pinned by Darry, face a twisted mess of what it once was.

“Darry,” the kid has managed to stumble to his feet, the eye that isn’t already swollen shut, wide and horrified, “Darry stop. C’mon, that’s enough, you're gonna kill him.”

Paul sees the moment Darry comes back to himself, watches as the feral look in his eyes melts into concern and pain so deep it would have cut twelfth grade Paul to the bone. Hell, it does something to him now.

“He deserves it, Ponyboy,” Darry says, “look what he did to your face!”

“I’m fine Dar,” the kid tries for a grin, but the blood in his teeth defeats the point of any sort of reassurance, “let’s just go home. Ain’t like he’s gonna try anything now.”

On the ground, Ty moans something incomprehensible. Shit, Paul’s going to have to take him to a hospital when they get out of this.

“Yeah,” Darry nods like he’s trying to convince himself, “yeah okay. Go ahead an’ git in the car okay? Me’n Tim’ll be there in a second.”

He’s talking full grease, the way he always used to when he was real upset, and Paul can’t help the satisfaction that runs through him at the sound of it. 

“Ok, just…don’t do anythin’ you’ll regret,” the kid starts limping in the direction of a beat up pickup truck Paul hadn’t noticed before, casting wary glances over his shoulder the whole time. He’s lifted the hem of his shirt to press against his nose but it doesn’t seem to be doing much to staunch the flow of blood.

Paul looks back at Darry and finds himself staring into the coldest eyes he’s ever seen. He used to think those eyes were beautiful, back in high school, when they twinkled with mirth or glittered with determination. Some part of him acknowledges that they’re still beautiful now, even filled with hatred. 

They stare at each other for a moment, Darry standing over the body of Paul’s new best friend who they both know is probably more than that, Paul with Darry’s new lover's knife held tight against his neck.

In those seconds he remembers everything they ever were, ever fought for, fought because of, why he left. He remembers meeting Darry in eighth grade and immediately being drawn to him in a way he could never properly explain. He remembers the first time they kissed, in tenth grade, the fear that had gripped him but the longing that had claimed him, making terror a backseat to passion. He remembers two years of dreaming, days and nights, soft lips and warm hands and a body like a greek god, remembers when longing gave way to love. He remembers screaming and fighting and words neither of them could ever take back. Remembers leaving. Remembers regretting it. Remembers trying to go back and Darry refusing him. Remembers heartbreak. Remembers rage.

Darry punches him.

Pain blooms across his jaw and he swears he feels a tooth crack, the only thing stopping him from hitting the ground the fact that Darry’s guy still has him in a vicelike grip.

“If you ever,” Darry spits through gritted teeth, and there’s no forgiveness in those eyes, no nostalgia, only hate, “lay a finger on my little brother again, I swear to god I’ll kill you.”

He won’t, Paul knows, because Darry is and always has been too good for this earth, and that hasn’t changed even if he now wears anger the way he used to wear arrogance- but he isn’t going to test that theory. There’s plenty of other greaser kids to jump that don’t come with dredging up the worst memories of his past.

Darry gives him one last disgusted look and spits at his feet, before his gaze slides to Paul’s captor. Tim, Darry had called him earlier.

“Ready to go?” The ever so slight softness in Darry’s eyes when he looks at Tim- crazy fucking Tim who is holding Paul at knifepoint- shouldn’t bother him nearly as much as it does. The fact that it bothers him at all leaves a bitter twist in his stomach.

“Yeah,” Tim agrees, “I'll be there in a second. You go check on the kid, the way he was walkin’ I think he mighta sprained his ankle.”

Darry nods, concern lighting once more in his eyes, and he jogs over to the car, immediately shaking his kid brother awake who had fallen asleep against the window.

Tim’s knife skates over Paul's neck, not deepening the shallow cut, but definitely drawing it longer.

“Listen here Holden,” he practically croons, pulling Paul’s head back, “you and I both know Darry would never make good on his promise. I on the other hand,” the knife flashes and Tim opens yet another cut on his cheek. Paul howls. “Have no such qualms. So if you go near any of the Curtis boys ever again, I will kill you.” His voice softens, a murmur so low Paul can hardly hear it despite Tim being quite literally right beside him, “I’ve done it before. I know how to not get caught. So if you think for a second that I am lying…”

He turns Paul in his grip so they’re suddenly face to face. 

“Call my bluff.”

He shoves him, hard, and Paul stumbles back, landing hard on his ass beside Ty who seems only semi conscious, lying supine on the ground. 

Tim smiles, like he didn’t just threaten Paul’s life and confess to murder in the same breath, before turning on his heel and making his way over to the car, climbing into the driver's seat.

Paul’s past and his new bogeyman drive away and he sits in the ditch for a long time, too terrified- or maybe just too shocked- to move.

[querenciasturniolo]

hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii❤️❤️ i love your chris fics, could you write one about how y/n has been best friends with the triplets for a while now & has been on their podcasts and also in their car videos but her and chris has had a secret relationship but fans start speculating when a photo surfaces of her & chris having matching nails painted?? like maybe hers is green with a black heart on one finger and his is black with a green heart? thank you!!

slip ⮕ c.s.

word count: 1.1k

warnings: secret relationship, angst, comfort, she/her pronouns

summary: you’re feeling a little overwhelmed with hiding your relationship, but chris knows exactly what to do

a/n: this was very cute to write, and i LOVED it 💓 i couldn’t find a good reference picture for your exact idea, so i changed it just a smidge xx

everything written is completely fictional. the people i write for are written with characteristics and mannerisms that i made for them, this is in no way depicting what would actually happen in real life.

“Nick, what did you post?”

Nick looked up from his phone and frowned.

“What do you mean?”

You opened your phone, hundreds of notifications flying in at once on your most recent post. “I’m getting like, a million comments about me and Chris. Did you say anything?” You asked. You knew he didn’t but you were confused as to why everyone was asking about your relationship.

“Of course not, it’s just a photo of all of our hands making a star.” He said, standing up and walking towards you. You clicked on Nick’s story, seeing the photo of all of your nails and sighing.

“I didn’t realize how obvious it was.” You grumbled, locking your phone and rubbing your hand over your eyes.

“Do you want me to delete it?” He asked. You shook your head.

“No, no. It’s fine, really.” You said. “It just caught me off guard, you know?”

You’d never really been in the limelight, ever. Their social media presence always baffled you, especially when you and Chris had gotten together. You’d known them forever, but it still confused you.

It wasn’t until your followers started growing out of nowhere that you realized how much impact that they truly had. Seeing the enormous amount of people who were crazy about them who also wanted to see more of you in videos was…shocking, to say the least. You also didn’t understand how perceptive fans could be.

Every other comment was about the way Chris looked at you, and how when you started speaking, even if he was in the middle of talking, he’d stop and listen intently. You’d seen countless edits on Tiktok of you and Chris, the way both of your eyes lit up when talking to each other, whether you were in the background of a video or front and center.

It was crazy, seeing the way these people were completely right about something that you and Chris hadn’t even hinted at.

Nick sighed and shook his head. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t even thinking about your matching nails.”

“No, no. Don’t apologize, it’s fine. I just wasn’t expecting the uproar.” You said, laughing quietly to yourself. “It’s really no big deal, honest. Don’t beat yourself up about it, it’ll be fine. It’s more suspicious if you delete it, anyway.” You said, resting your hand on Nick’s shoulder.

You pulled away and gestured towards the stairs. “I’m gonna go talk to Chris, I’ll see you later.” You said, Nick nodding his head. The last thing you wanted was to upset him, but you knew he’d be okay. You walked up the stairs to Chris’ room, dropping down on his bed next to him and looking over at him. He looked over at you, his eyebrows raised.

“Well, hello. What’s up?” He asked, locking his phone and dropping it on his chest.

You sighed through your nose and shrugged, looking up at the ceiling. It was hard, keeping this secret. You knew it was for the best right now, but you wished you could show off your boyfriend like other people.

“That was convincing. What’s going on, love?” He asked, turning onto his side and propping his head up on his hand and looking down at you.

You met his eyes again, nothing but concern shimmering in the icy blue of his iris’. You sighed again and shook your head.

“How long are we gonna keep hiding this?” You asked, your voice small. “Are you…ashamed of me?” You felt pathetic asking him something like that. He’d never made you feel that way, but you couldn’t help but wonder.

He frowned down at you, his jaw slack before he spoke. “Of course not, where did that come from?” He asked, resting his free hand over you and pulling you closer to him. He rested next to you, pulling you until your arm was wrapped around him and your head was resting on his chest.

“It’s stupid, forget I said anything.” You said, relaxing completely when his fingers began carding through your hair. His free hand entwined in yours, his thumb lightly running over your knuckles at a steady pace.

“Well, I’m not going to forget about anything. My girl thinks I’m ashamed of her, and I want to know what made her feel that way.” He said, your heart skipping a beat at the title. You looked down at both of your hands, smiling at the little frogs on his last three fingers. He had playfully whined about how the frogs would look goofy, but eventually admitted that it reminded him of Frog and Toad, and he was glad he did it.

“I just…I want to be able to show you off, you know? I know you want to keep it a secret, and that’s fine and I understand. It’s just…I want to be able to post pictures for our friends and families to see, if that makes any sense.” You rambled.

Chris was quiet for a while, but you could tell he was thinking. It wasn’t often that he was quiet, but you knew that when he was, he was genuinely trying to think of the best way to answer a question or the best solution to an issue. He sat up then, pulling himself from you quickly and adjusting a pillow to rest against his bed frame. You watched as he leaned back and met your eyes, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. He patted the mattress between his knees.

“Come here.” He said. You chuckled and shook your head but complied. Your back was resting against his chest. He rested his hand over yours, entwining your fingers and lifting your hand up. “Straighten your hand.” He said, his voice soft. You smiled, and turned your head to look at him, but did as he said. He straightened his as well, both of your nails on display. He picked his phone up off of the mattress and opened his camera. The camera flashed, your brows furrowed as he let go of your hand and opened Instagram.

“What are you doing?” You asked. He shushed you as he created a new post and clicked on the picture. Your heart rate spiked as he typed a caption, tagged you in the photo and hit post. You pulled away from him as he locked his phone, your eyes wide as you met his. “Why did you do that?” You whispered.

Chris’ smile was contagious, your own making its way across your face as he shrugged his shoulders.

“My finger slipped.”

You shook your head at him, your heart feeling like it was going to burst as you leaned in and pressed a kiss to the tip of his nose.

“I love you, you dork.” You whispered, Chris practically beaming up at you.

“I love you, too.” He said, his voice almost lower than yours.

You could feel the vibration of his phone against the mattress, your own phone going crazy in your pocket, but you didn’t care. It hit you just then why people were so crazy about him—because how could they not be?

[2-dsimp]

can u write something for yandere armin? like what if his darling actually liked him back but then ppl are gossiping about him visiting Annie and still having feelings for her? this hurts darling bc she never forgave Anine and maybe her sibling is dead bc of the female titan so she just kinda stops talking to armin???

@laughing-with-god these were catching cobwebs in my drafts but it’s finally here (^◇^;)

————/———-/——————————-/—————-

Cw: Unhinged Armin! Fem! Reader, suicidal mentions, manipulative tendencies, yandere tendencies, obsessive behavior, mutual pinning

————/———-/——————————-/—————-

Is she ignoring me?

Armin questioned.

Watching you longingly from afar underneath the bangs of his long blonde hair, he began to overthink about what went wrong between the two of you. The rumors that kept circulating his mind about how you also had feelings for him. Was driving him insane with all the conflicting emotions in his weak heart.

Doesn’t she feel the same way? But if that’s true then why…?

If the rumors are true then why’re you avoiding him? The day before the both of you were in the library leisurely reading books sitting next to each other as if you were connected by the red strings of faith. The atmosphere was so blissful a lovely distraction from the chaos in a world that seems so hopeless.

But now he’s witnessing you ignoring his existence entirely almost as if he didn’t exist in your heart to being in with. And that made him anxious with insecurities running rampant until it turned into twisted delusions.

Has she found another?

No, that can’t be! What do I do? I can’t let her go. I need her. I need her. I need her. I need her—

“Hey did yall hear about what’s happening between Armin and Annie?”

A distant voice snapped him out of his obsessive train of thoughts, and he automatically tuned into the conversation of gossip stemming from a group of scouts.

“Duh everyone knows that those two will hook up eventually, but my heart goes out to that girl who had a crush on him.”

Another voice chimed in with a slight huff of pity going out to you.

“Yeah, hasn’t Armin always had the hots for that Titan girl? I heard that he went to see her last night at the stables”

Armin went rigid at the mere mention that he would choose that abomination you utterly despised over you. Calming himself he couldn’t help but let out a tiny sigh of relief realizing that it was not as bad as he originally thought. Although, he did have an encounter with her, trust me when I say that it was far from that of a friendly front.

Now that he had a clear vision of the situation, he knew exactly what he needed to do to mend the bridge between him and his darling.

Him being all nice to Annie was just a facade to get her guard to the lowest crumbling point. The woman was already running on a half life carrying the guilt of her past warrior self. He pretended to be empathetic towards her, feeding the flames of her innermost desire to end it all by stating that she had suffered long enough by the hands of fate. And that as a former ally he’d assist in making sure she had a nice send off straight to hell.

And eventhough He knew it was wrong of him to enjoy the simpering thought of how jealous you were at the mere inkling idea that he was interested in Annie. He couldn’t help the excitement drumming along in his heart at how that was a sign of your apparent love towards him. A telltale sign of how you wanted him.

He nearly got weak in the knees at the vision of you and him getting together as a loving couple. Especially since he knew that his goal was within reach, all he had to do was set the plan in motion. In few days time you’ll soon see how much he truly loves you, and how much he’d be willing to be your faithful companion.

And what better way to show it, by giving you the chance to get revenge on the traitor you loathed with all your being.

With that in mind Armin quickly headed towards your quarters, his steps becoming upbeat with a small hopeful smile on his face while he daydreamed about you rewarding his efforts with a kiss.

[the-grimm-writer]

Toxic

You thought you knew what you were getting into when you got into a relationship with Keisuke. Turns out you didn’t know him as well as you thought you did. 

Commission for my lovely friend Sheer!!

Tw: Typical canon violence, forced relationship, biting, Baji and all his friends are a bunch of bullies.

Everyone is 20+

You thought you knew what you were getting into when you agreed to be Keisuke’s woman. The life he lived was a fast one and he had sold you on it. Late night rides on his motorcycle, clinging onto him so you didn’t fall off whenever he sped up as fast as it would go. Running and hiding from the police, your heart pumping in your chest as you wildly kiss one another after almost getting caught. Getting into fights with rival gang members. It wasn’t often that you’d have to fight yourself, but whenever you did, he would swear it was the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. 

What you weren’t prepared for was the man himself. Despite the life he lived you often forget that Keisuke Baji was dangerous, a red flag wrapped up in a pretty package. He enjoyed violence more than the average person. You learned that the hard way when he started swinging on a man for “looking at you the wrong way.” 

No matter how many times you told him to stop and he swore he’d never do it again, it still continued. You’d reached your wits end when he took you to his meetings. 

An underling, someone who must have just joined, made the mistake of sauntering over to you. He was barely able to get the cheesy pick up line out when he was yanked back by the collar and slammed into the ground. 

The leaders didn't seem to mind, just staring at him with a bored expression as you backed away in horror. Baji was on top of the guy, hitting him until his knuckles were bloody. 

You looked around in shock but nobody else was batting an eye. You shook your head, disappointed, you were about to leave when one woman pulled you back. “Don’t do that.” She whispered in your ear, putting her hand on your shoulder. “It will only make it worse.” 

Just like your man, many of the other gang members liked to show off their women at the meetings. When you weren't sitting on Baji's lap, you were talking to them. It was the only sense of normalcy you got since you began dating him. 

Even with his wild brown eyes and sharp fanged teeth, he managed to charm everyone around you. You couldn’t exactly blame them, you fell for it when you first met him too. All your friends thought he was the perfect boyfriend and didn't mind how much time you spent with him, often encouraging you too. 

Baji had a strict mother, so when he truly wanted to, he knew how to make a good impression on parents, make them believe he was the best match for their little girl. 

Your arguments increased after that night. About whether you'd continue to go with him to meetings or not. Now it was time for another one, and you were standing in your room glaring at each other. 

“That’s it! Im not going to your stupid meetings anymore! We are over!” You yelled at him. “I’m breaking up with y-” 

His hand was wrapped around your throat before you could finish your sentence. “You are getting dressed and we are going to that meeting, do you understand?” You stayed silent, glaring up at him. His hold on your throat tightened when you tried to push him away. “I said. Do. You. Understand?” 

Realizing it wasn’t worth the fight, you begrudgingly nodded your head. “Good girl.” He smirked, leaning down and pressing a kiss on your lips. “Get dressed. 

He paraded you around like a trophy. It was something you hadn’t realized at first. Often he made you wear his jacket with the gang’s symbol on it. You used to think that it was because he didn’t want you to get cold, but now you know he only did it because he wanted everyone to know that he had a claim on you. 

This time, Baji refused to let you leave his side. As you walked past the other women, all you could do was share sympathetic looks. When he sat down, you immediately got on his lap. 

You took a shaky breath and leaned against him, his arm lazily draped around your waist. On the outside, you looked normal. Like you hadn’t tried breaking up with him earlier. 

Not that his friends cared, you thought begrudgingly. They wouldn't betray their friend for you. Then there was the worst of them all. His best friend and the leader of the gang. 

“Well, aren't you a cute couple?” Mikey teased, making you tense up as Keisuke chuckled. “But I’d keep her at home next time. There’s going to be a lot of dangerous men at this meeting, and we wouldn’t want them getting the wrong impression and try to snatch her up now would we?” You tensed up as you looked at him, his dark eyes sparkling with amusement. That asshole, he knew exactly what he was doing. Actually, they all knew what he was doing. They didn’t care. Hell, some of them even encouraged it right in front of your face like just now. 

Your eyes narrowed at him as Mikey walked off, which of course Keisuke immediately took notice of. 

"Hey." He growled, tone low as he spoke to you. "What did I tell you about the dirty looks? Cut it out. Besides, Mikey's right. Important men will be coming so behave yourself." 

"Oh so it's okay that you beat up anyone who flirts with me but a look is where you draw the line?" Despite your annoyance, you kept your voice down so no one noticed. 

“Do you want me to be like those other guys?” He said softly to you as he buried his face into the crook of your neck, making you gasp when he bit down on your sensitive skin before he pulled away. “You want me to be rough? Want me to fuck you like a little whore in front of everyone?”  

"Fine." You snapped back. "I'll be good." 

So you smiled, being polite every time someone walked over to the both you. Of course you kept your answers short, lord knows how Keisuke would react if he thought you were being too friendly.   

Cold dread washed over you as you realized, even if you weren't a member of the gang you were still stuck in it. 

[skybiie]

VIPERINE! 1/2 of my cybertronian ocs :3 I love her so much my limousine babe

(Backstory below)

•👠

Viperine is the twin sister of Knockout (being only seconds older probably lol). Her, Knockout and Breakdown were an inseparable group back on Velocitron. The three of them were part of a cosmetics shop, where Viperine would design decals, new models/frames, and other “kibble” things, knockout would handle the procedures in applying these cosmetics, and Breakdown was the “maestro behind a rotary buffer”. They all three were out of the loop of the war on Cybertron, not exactly picking sides and remaining neutral. None of them really cared about what was going on, until the war spread and they were forced to evacuate.

Knockout and Viperine were seperated from Breakdown in their own pod, and when the twins were airborne, the pod was destroyed. The two of them had been launched to other sides of earth, neither of them knowing where the other was, let alone if they were ALIVE.

Knockout was founded by the Decepticons sooner than Viperine was found by the Autobots. She had landed in the outskirts of Las Vegas, quickly taking on the earth vehicle mode of a Chrysler 300 Stretch Limo.

Her main goal now was to look for Knockout.

Team Prime had discovered a strong energon pulse within the heart of Vegas, which none of the bots truly realized how daunting this task of finding it was going to be.

Optimus, Bumblebee, Arcee and Bulkhead were all dispatched into the city in search of the pulse. They had to remain in their alt modes, keeping a lower profile than usual as it was a busy, late night for the city with tons of people. It proved to be quite the struggle for the three, even with having them disperse. It was like a maze where they couldn’t cut corners or climb buildings to get to the location easier.

Arcee was rested at a red light, when a black and red limo pulled up beside her at the stop. She heard a “sweet ride” from the limo, and that piqued her interest. Not due to the flirt, but the voice was so loud. There was no way this wasn’t a human driver speaking with the windows rolled up and music blaring. The limo turned a different direction, and Arcee drove off since she couldn’t discreetly follow the limo. She alerted the other bots on her comlink, and Ratchet was dispatched in case this was a cybertronian in need potential help.

Optimus was lucky, and found the location of the energon pulse… just as Starscream had located it all the same. He had dug it up (the item being unknown atm) and was unaware of Optimus’s presence. Optimus wasn’t second to the scene, however, and was the third to spot it. The same limousine that Arcee described seeing earlier had slowly drove over, transforming into her normal form. She began fighting Starscream for the special item, foolish on who he was. Optimus had called the others to his location, being left no choice but to intervene.

Optimus had gotten ahold of the item rather easily, not until the limo cybertronian began running at him, clearly not backing down like Starscream had.

It wasn’t bravery, it was stupidity.

He didn’t fire; the other bots jumped in front, drawing their guns and weapons. She stood back, knowing she did not want to get shot.

“Who are you?”

“Viperine. I’d advise you drop the jewelry.”

Jewelry? The bots were dumbfounded. This Viperine really thought it was some sort of cosmetic. Optimus explained to her what it actually was, and she seemed regretful and showed distain for still wanting it.

“Ah… never mind then.”

Viperine wasn’t exactly a threat. She was just… incredibly naive and unknowing about the war. It took a lot of talking and one Starscream battle later for Viperine to eventually agree to heading back to base with them for an evaluation. Her worry for her brother only amplified…

[allmonstersxarehuman]

Stupidly In Love

Yang Jeongin x Fem!Reader

Prompt: 25 Is that my shirt

Prompt: 27 I think I’m in love

Prompt list that I used and the original post is credited in the link HERE

A/N: Sorry this is short. To 🪐anon who requested I hope you like it.

Warning: Just fluff and some rushed writing and probably bad writing. Mention of the reader being older than Jeongin but doesn’t say how much.

You paced around your apartment making sure everything was clean and put together, stress cleaning is something that started when you started dating. When you got into a relationship with Jeongin it calmed down, but he has been over seas for about a month and you were antsy for some reason. You were so in your head that you didn’t hear the door open or your boyfriend calling your name until you bumped into him, the sudden collision dazed you for just a sec before looking up only to lock eyes with boyfriend. He gave you a sweet toothy smile his dimples on full display. “You okay baby? You look like you are trying solve a mathematical equation.” He spoke pushing a piece of hair behind your ear. You gave him a big smile before nodding. “Yeah sorry I’ve just been stuck in my head today. I missed you a lot.” You wrapped your arms around his body then looked up puckering your lips. The action caused Jeongin to let out a small laugh before giving a kiss that was the exact opposite of small.

One of his large hands grabbed yours and one by one set them on top of his shoulder so that he could grab your hips to pull you closer to him. That’s when he realized you were only wearing a t-shirt and very short sleep shorts, he pulled back from your lips only to look at your attire. When you saw that he was looking at what were wearing you blushed, you were still in the his t-shirt and a pair of bottoms that definitely didn’t leave much to the imagination. “Is that my shirt?” Jeongin asked a smile never leaving his lips, he loved seeing you in something that he owned because it was a clear sign that you were his girl and that you weren’t afraid to show it. You blushed and nodded. “It smelt like you and helped me sleep.” He stepped back just a tiny bit, hands still on your hips. “You look so beautiful, so sexy. God I think I’m in love.” He whispered the last part, not on purpose but because he was just in awe.

To think just a small gesture like wearing a piece of your partners clothing could make someone’s heart beat faster and the love they harbored for them grow. His words made you blush, the both of you had just barely started to exchange the three letters to each other but now here he was saying he think he’s in love. Though weren’t sure if it was just an expression or if that’s what he truly felt, you were nervous to ask not wanting to ruin the best relationship you have ever had; you again got stuck into your own head and didn’t realize you were nervously chewing on your bottom lip. Jeongin knew exactly why you had retreated into the corners of your mind, he should’ve worded what he said differently he didn’t think he was in love he KNEW he was in love. “My sweet girl look at me please.” His voice brought you back causing you to shyly look up at him. “I should’ve put it differently. I’m in love with you. So deeply and stupidly in love you.” He smiled bringing your left hand up to his lips and giving your ring finger a light kiss. “Hopefully you love me as much as I do you that when the time comes you’ll let me put a ring on this finger.” The words he spoke was cheesy but that’s what made the confession sweet. “I’m in love with you too Innie.” You said softly standing on your tiptoes to give him a light kiss. only for him to deepen the kiss and bring you with him to the couch. First he sat then he helped you to crawl into his lap, bringing you as close as possible. He missed you so much while he was away, Jeongin trailed his hands under the shirt you were wearing; his long fingers traced up and down your smooth skin. “How did I get so lucky?” He mumbled against your lips as they traveled downwards, his face tucked the crook of you neck placing small kisses and light bites there. “I ask myself that question all the time because how incredibly amazing you are and how sweet you treat me. Lucky that our families get along. Lucky that I met you.” You smiled.

Though you had been nervous to meet his parents not just because it’s always nerve racking when it came to meeting a partners family but because you were a tad older than Jeongin and a foreigner meeting each others family could have ended up either go horrible or really well, and thankfully your family took him into their arms and Jeongins family did the same for you. It was kind of the same for Jeongin when came to your family in regards to the language barrier and what he did for work. But here you both were almost 1 year into your official relationship, still as in awe with each other as you were when you two first met. A ding interrupted the sweet moment, that’s when you remembered the dinner that you had made. “I think dinners ready.” You smiled giving him another quick peck before headed to the kitchen. Jeongin stood that a huge smile on his face, a thought of what forever could look like for the both you. ‘I can’t wait to marry you.’ He said to himself before following you into the kitchen.

[hoshiina]

pairing: akatsuki hyoga x gn!reader (no prns)

request: i wanted to request something of hyoga with a s/o that's reserved just like him, and that even though they were always together, everyone assumed that they were just close friends and nothing more. however it turns out they're married! and everyone is surprised by this; especially moz and homura who thought they knew hyoga to an extent at least lol

warnings: hyoga is very sweet, that's truly about it he's just insanely sweet.

wc: 1100

The two of you were deeply in love. You knew he loved you and he knew you loved him back— and that was enough for both of you. After all these years, there was of course still lots to talk about, but hardly a need to talk about anything. As long as you were together, you couldn’t ask for any more. You had originally met each other at the same dojo, so often people found you training together and naturally as you did things together, you were close to similar people.

The two of you did share a living space and sleep together so while originally you assumed people would catch on that you were a couple rather quickly, considering the lack of affection you display in public the two of you soon realized they probably thought you were just roommates. However, there wasn’t a true need to bring it up all of a sudden, not to mention it would be slightly awkward after all this time— so you figured you’d just wait until someone asked.

Now, behind closed doors he would kiss you first thing in the morning and you would tell him you loved him before you slept each night and there was no doubt that the two of you were terribly in love. And that was perfectly fine.

Yet, if there was one thing that saddened you from time to time, it would be the missing ring on your left hand. 

Hyoga wasn’t one to wear his ring often, all the way back from 3700 years ago, but you were. You had it on all the time— to the point where you could hardly get it off your finger. Although you loved that it showed you were his and he was yours, you truly just loved the way it made you feel safe. It was nothing extravagant, and you asked for it that way. You wanted something that you could keep on while training, that wouldn’t get in the way, so it was just a band with a small diamond engraved in it. To many it truly wasn’t much, but to you, it meant absolutely the world. To you, that little ring made you feel like Hyoga was with you wherever you went and in danger, he would come flying. You absolutely trusted he still would, but your hand did feel empty without the ring.

It was as if he read your mind. It was early in the morning when the two of you were taking a break while training alone. He carefully took off his gloves and took your left hand and the gentle touch made your heart flutter.

“What’s wrong?” you asked.

He didn’t reply, but he took out a ring and slipped it right onto your ring finger. It was just a band, no diamond, no gem. Just a band that was exactly the size of your left-hand ring finger.

“Sorry it’s nothing more,” Hyoga said softly, then laughed a little. The look on his face was soft and gentle, one that he would only show you. “Perhaps this is worse than it was without.”

You were in love with him, you had always been and yet you had fallen all over again. He was the one for you and he will always be.

“No, I absolutely adore it!” you said, immediately pulling your hand back just in case he took it away. He chuckled again and you slowly brought your hand back out to look at it on your hand. You loved it so much you couldn’t have the words to express it. The largest diamond in the world couldn’t possibly compare to this simple hoop of metal on your ring finger. “How… did you?”

“I asked Senkuu and Kaseki helped make it,” he said. “It was a slight hassle trying to get your ring size again.”

“When did you get it? While I was asleep?” you asked, absolutely impressed.

“Yes,” he said. “I was afraid to wake you up a couple of times. Also it didn’t help that you sleep on your side a lot.”

“Okay, but aren’t you going to tell?” Senkuu suddenly said.

“Tell what?” you asked, ignoring the fact that you didn’t know he was listening in.

“No.” Hyoga said firmly, purely out of embarrassment.

“He made the ring himself,” Senkuu said. “Late at night, after you were asleep, for multiple nights he was working on it.”

Your head spun back to look at him. “No way,” you said.

In all of your years of being married, you had not seen him look so flustered ever.

“He got it perfect in a few tries though. Considering the tools we have to work with that itself was an insane feat,” Senkuu said, and started walking away. “Okay, sorry to bother, I’ll leave you be.”

“I love you so much,” you said to Hyoga, looking directly into his eyes.

“It’s just a piece of metal really, so I thought it’d make me feel a little more part of it if I made it,” he said, avoiding eye contact.

“Why weren’t you going to tell me?” you asked.

“It’s embarrassing,” he said. “Also, it was just for my self-satisfaction… it doesn’t change the fact that it’s just a band.”

You didn’t even bother to reply because you knew that he knew you didn’t think that for a second. You knew that he knew that made you love the ring a million times more now. Perhaps that was why— perhaps he felt bad if that made you feel like you had to keep it on. How terribly silly— he could have found it on the ground some random day and you would still have it on for the rest of your life if he had given it to you.

“Thank you,” you said, giving him a kiss. “I’ll protect it with my life.”

“Please do not,” he said, returning the kiss. “It’s supposed to protect you.”

BONUS

From that moment on, you realized you did want people to know you were married to him after all. You were so insanely proud to have him as your husband, not to mention you didn’t need anyone else falling for him either. He was in love with you, he would spend nights making a ring for you— not anyone else.

So later that day when you were having a meal with Homura and Moz, you made sure to flaunt your brand new ring, surprising them both.

Hyoga stayed silent, but it was obvious he was your partner.

Today, it was absolutely obvious that the two of you were in love.

[biteofcherry]

Eva! I hope you’re doing well! I wanted to stop by and show you some love! But also tell you…

I have Dom Andy and his future sub on the brain! When I tell you I’ve been craving some Dom Andy…

Is there any way you can give a little tidbit…

A little idea on how that’s going?

Sweet Bella! 💖

Craving some Dom Andy, you say? I have to admit that I haven't thought much about him recently, nor written anything. Sorry! But I have this unposted bit and I'll gladly spoil you with it 😘

Ruby Slippers Masterlist

Ruby Garden Series

Andy Barber x reader; Dom!Andy Barber x submissive reader

warnings: b*d*s*m; Dom/sub dynamics; power imbalance; safe sane and consensual; mention of spanking (but none happening in this)

Too overwhelmed with everything shiny and new, and wicked, that you watched happen all around the club, you didn’t notice that the conversation between two Doms ended and Andy’s attention was fully back to you. 

He kept stroking your hair gently, seemingly untired of the soothing gesture since he started it.

He studied you as you looked around the club with eyes wide and curious; like a little apprehensive kitten wanting to explore the big world, but scared of taking a step. 

It’s been a while since Andy took care of a very green submissive. 

To be honest, he never felt ready for such a challenging dynamic, preferring his partners experienced in the basics and quickly attuning to his tempo. But your sweet, helpless expression pulled on strings inside his chest and caring for you - even in that simple way like guiding you through your first night at the Ruby Garden - fulfilled a certain need.

You didn’t notice Andy’s hand stilling on top of your head, until he tapped it. You turned your head and looked up at him, eyes wide in bewilderment from what you were watching as well from surprise upon realizing you were still kneeling at his feet, nearly naked.

“You look a little overwhelmed,” Andy traced a finger down your cheek and you couldn’t stop the pleasant shiver from rolling down your spine. “Is this the first BDSM club you’ve been to?”

“I’ve been to some.” You replied, with a dismissive shrug.

You hoped to sound cool about it, nonchalant even, as if you weren’t that pathetic as the Masters here probably saw you as.

However, Master Andy arched an eyebrow, his face displaying doubt.

“Which ones?” He asked and you realized there was no way you could lie to him, since he seemed to sense bullshit a mile away.

Was it his trait alone, or were the legends about real Doms true? Dominants that truly paid attention to a submissive’s body language and ticks, searching for all the signs of various emotions, not only focusing on what is pleasurable to them. 

Swallowing hard, you weaved your fingers together before replying:

“Um, to Strike and Red Room.”

You preferred not to remember those few visits, since they made you cringe and flee away before you got brave enough to join in any real scene. But they were clubs you stepped inside, so it wasn’t exactly a lie.

Andy’s blue eyes darkened, his forehead creasing in a frown. His fingers gripped your hair, this time pulling harshly enough to tilt your head back as he leaned down over you.

“It’s a good thing Anne brought you here.” He spoke calmly, but there was hard displeasure in his voice and you instantly felt like shrinking and apologizing. 

“Strike? Red Room? Those places are trash. Rape potential, not a ground for practicing safe BDSM. Just for risking getting your cute ass there you should be spanked.”

Sudden wave of heat filled your chest and seemed to spread through your body. It was a pinch of shame, but mostly it was a visceral reaction to the threat of having Andy’s big, heavy hand on your butt.

“Well, now,” Andy’s eyes sparked with interest as he noted the hitch in your breath and how your lips parted and pupils dilated. “I see you like spanking, birdie.”

Again, he read you so easily as if you said your thoughts aloud.

It took you a moment to find your voice. The pull on your hair and the overpowering closeness of Andy made you so excited, so thrilled. Reactions quite new to you, but which you welcomed with joy.

Then he said spanking in that low, velvety voice and you were wet in a flash.

“I-” you had to pause to wet your lips- “I don’t know. I’ve never been spanked.”

Andy’s eyes pierced right through you, dark and sparking with mischievous fire. He looked very pleased and excited.

“Oh, we will definitely do that. Soon, I think.” His grip on your hair eased and his hand slid down your neck.

“But first-” Andy stood up and gave you his hand, easily pulling you up to your feet- “let’s go exploring. I’ll walk you around, we’ll watch a few scenes and the equipment.” 

He kept himself in your space, not letting you withdraw from him an inch.

His warmth and the scent of his cologne wrapped around you like a hypnotizing haze.

One of Andy’s hands was on your ass, squeezing your flesh unabashedly; the other hand was wrapped around your wrist, thumb rubbing beneath the soft leather of the handcuff.

“And each time, you will tell me how much it arouses you.” His announcement and his tone made you drip.

You were quite sure Andy was very much aware of the effect he had on you.

“You’ll tell me what you want to try, what scares you and what you definitely don’t want to do. You will admit when something turns you on. And if you can’t find your big girl words, I will slide my fingers between your thighs and check with my fingers how wet that needy hole of yours got.”

Your needy hole was already wet and hot. You didn’t need to play voyeur to seek what aroused you, since it seemed Andy was it. 

“If I find you lying or evading, birdie,” he pinched your buttock, “I’ll punish you.” 

[corioheinous]

Can I just say how much I love love love it when a character or a group of characters are haunted by the absence of a person who was once integral to their lives. Especially when the entire narrative is structured around that particular loss like hands down my favorite television shows right now are Fleabag and The Bear which are both Masterful fucking examples of this (Fleabag’s dead best friend, though you could probably make a case for her mother too, and Carmy’s dead brother respectively).

And it’s like. The loss of these loved ones is so inextricable from the characters that survived them to the point where everything they do and say every choice they make whether good or bad is ultimately influenced by their grief. I’m catching up with the current Blue Period arc right now and really enjoying it, mostly bc of the complicated friendship dynamic between Momoyo, Murai, and Hachiro—and the lone piece missing from their friend group—Sanada. Murai’s experience with grief in particular is so fascinating to me because unlike Momoyo and Hachiro, he hasn’t been able to “move on” or cope with his grief in a healthy way. It’s sort of become this unsurmountable weight on his shoulder, this ghost-like presence that looms over his character constantly. When Yatora reflects on his loss in ch. 62, there’s an interesting emphasis placed on Murai’s expression—

—which made me realize just how emotional of a character Murai is through his facial expressions alone. Not necessarily in this chapter, because he’s very much putting on a brave face, but in chapter 64, you practically witness him going through every stage of grief at once. It’s honestly a massive transformation given that he’d been stuck in the “denial” stage for so long.

I think it’s interesting to think of Murai as both a character who is avoidant, repressive, in denial about his own feelings and the reality of the world around him (it’s mentioned also in ch. 64 that Murai didn’t even attend Sanada’s funeral, which is exactly the kind of immature behavior/inability to cope that you would expect from a character like him) WHILE simultaneously being someone who wears his heart on his sleeve. I reckon he forces himself to feel nothing at all out of fear that he’ll feel too much at once, and thus end up causing a scene like he did at Sanada’s posthumous exhibition.

Besides the cool back tat and funky earring, I wasn’t all that compelled by Murai’s character until I read through this chapter and experienced this entire emotional upheaval alongside him. I kind of just had to sit down for a bit after reading the last scene, after Yotasuke’s Murai-san, it’s okay to live your life holding onto that grief forever, isn’t it? comment which is such a bonkers thing to say (/pos) and God. Not to quote The Bear FX here but it really is satisfying to watch a character that you know needs to let it rip just let it rip. That laidback attitude and nonchalant expression of his were never truly the whole of it. I’m really satisfied with the way grief & loss has been framed through Murai, and I’m excited to see what his character becomes as he continues to both carry these feelings inside him and live to grow around them.

[lookingfts]

Where does Say My Name Kate keep the photos Anthony took of her? Does she ever look at them? Does Anthony?

*sexy snippet below*

Kate knew it was reckless to keep the photos in her purse, exactly where Anthony had left them. There was just something right about it, keeping them so close to her. The final token that had convinced Kate to make the best decision of her life, and give Anthony Bridgerton a real chance at loving her.

There was also something a little naughty and thrilling about it, besides. Kate was hardly a prude, but she still blushed when she caught a glimpse of herself posed so intimately. Her legs spread, her cunt exposed, Anthony’s release filling her. It was too easy to get wet all over again at the memories. Too easy to get sentimental as Kate mused on how far they had come since then. That girl had been so scared, fighting his every attempt to show her that he genuinely cared about her.

And now she knew the truth. Anthony loved her harder than she could have ever dared to imagine, and she was safe to love him just as much.

So the Polaroids stayed. Until the day that Eddie needed to borrow a phone charger and Kate, distracted by her sauce on the stove, had offhandedly said, “Check my purse.”

There was the sound of zipping, and Kate realized her mistake a second before it rang across the house. “Oh my fucking god!”

Kate turned down the heat and raced into the other room, snatching the photos from Edwina’s hand. But the damage was done, judging by the shell-shocked look on her sister’s face.

“That’s not what it looks like,” she insisted, her cheeks flaming bright red.

“That’s not…” Eddie said faintly, then snorted. “Didi, I literally don’t think that could be anything except what it looks like.”

Shoving the photos back into her purse, Kate pulled out the charger and pushed it into Edwina’s hand. She supposed it was a good sign that her sister’s surprise had faded and now she looked endlessly amused rather than angry.

“You little slut,” she said, but her voice was teasing. “You let my ex-boyfriend take nasty photos of you, didn’t you?”

Kate rolled her eyes. Eddie loved to call Anthony her ex, and while technically correct, Kate knew she meant it more as a joke than anything else. “It’s complicated.”

“It’s not that complicated.”

She supposed there was no need to tell Edwina the whole sordid tale of how Anthony had taken pictures of her after she had just made him come for the first time, on her knees and trying to get even after her own intense orgasm. Of how he’d given them to her as a gift, a promise that he wouldn’t take advantage of her vulnerability.

Might as well let her think they were more recent, a fun little experiment in a solid relationship.

“You look great,” Eddie said, waving her hand toward the photos. “Have you ever considered porn?”

“Edwina!”

-----

So, maybe her purse wasn’t the best spot. Kate took them out when she got home, bringing them upstairs with her. It was late, and Anthony was already in bed, shirtless and reading a book. Truly beautiful sight to come home to, each and every time.

She flopped onto the bed, and Anthony quirked an eyebrow when he saw the photos in her hand. “I haven’t seen those in a while.”

“Edwina found them in my bag,” Kate said, wincing. “She was fine, but it was…awkward, to say the least.”

Anthony pressed his lips together, suppressing a laugh. “But she was okay?”

“Yeah. She said I should do porn.”

“You do look incredible naked,” he said with a straight face. “But I must admit, I like being the only one to see you that way.”

“I know,” Kate sighed, snuggling in closer so she could rest her head on his shoulder. Anthony put his book aside, wrapping his arm around her waist. “I must have known when I let you take these. I believed you when you said you wouldn’t show anyone else.”

She felt his deep breath against her body, his grip tightening around her. “I know you didn’t have much reason to trust me back then, but I would never do that to you, Kate.”

“I’m well aware,” she assured him, twisting to press a kiss to his collarbone. “It was a little scary, but it also turned me on. I realized I liked the idea of you laying in bed, touching yourself to my photos. Wanting me even after our one night was over.”

Anthony tensed slightly, his breathing going a little shallower. “That was…inevitable.”

“I know that now too.” Kate flipped to the next Polaroid, a close-up of her cunt with his seed leaking out. Right after that ridiculous phone call with Tom and before Anthony had cleaned her up with his tongue. “If you didn’t take them for yourself, why did you take them?” she asked quietly.

“They were for me. At first. If that night was all I had with you, I wanted to remember it. And when you let me take them, I realized…there was a part of you that trusted me. Maybe it was buried deep down, but it was there. And I wanted to show you that I could deserve that trust. I wanted you to know that you owned me, not the other way around.”

Her heart clenched in her chest. Maybe the way Anthony showed love didn’t make sense to everyone, but it was perfect for her. He was perfect for her.

“Hey, baby?” she asked. Anthony hummed. “Do you know where your camera is?”

“It’s in my office. Why?”

“I think we should take some more photos.”

[dangerpronebuddie]

Hiiiii Maggie 💕💕💕💕

Prepare for a bunch of emojis! They are all so good!!

📋📋📋📋📋

🚁🚁🚁🚁🚁

🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

😡😡😡😡😡

🫵🫵🫵🫵🫵🫵🫵🫵🫵🫵

-❤️🪐

Hiiiii Saturn! 🩷🩷🩷 Glad you're enjoying them 🥰

Clipboard Buck:

“Yeah, I know,” Buck says. “At least in theory anyway. Finding this out at thirty is… a little jarring. I mean- Buck 1.0 didn’t even get to experience this. I feel a little sad for past me.” “Do you think Buck 1.0 could’ve processed this like present Buck?” Bobby asks. “Yeah,” Chim says. “Maybe you’d resent it if you found out then.” “Maybe it happened when it needed to happen,” Eddie says with a pointed look at Hen. “Are you saying the universe had something to do with it?” Buck teases. An exploding ambulance flashes through his memory, but he resolutely ignores it for now. “I’m saying that no matter when it happened, you should love yourself. Past, present, and future Buck.” Buck smiles at him, soft sweet and disarming, and Eddie’s insides turn to goo. He can’t deny that.

Time loop fic:

“You guys have a lot in common,” Buck remarks. Maybe that’s why he likes Tommy so much. “You both like watching half-naked men pummel each other.” “Tommy’s pretty cool,” Eddie says happily. “Been a while since I met someone who can go toe-to-toe with me in Muay Thai.” “You- you guys went to… Muay Thai together?” First the fight in fucking Vegas, now this? Buck might just pass out. “Yeah, he’s got a setup in his garage,” Eddie says. “We sparred a bit.” Buck can’t get the image of that out of his mind. The both of them shirtless and glistening with sweat, showing off their skills and their muscles and- Buck forces himself to move, pushing all thoughts about that to the back of his mind. For fuck’s sake, he’s known he’s bi for maybe two days, this should not be affecting him this much! "Well listen, I- I think it's great..." Just like in his dream, he trips over his words.

The arson fic:

"The Longest Yard?" Chim asks, "seriously?" "What?" Buck frowns. "Burt Reynolds? Eddie Albert?" Chim prompts. Buck simply blinks at him like he's grown a second head. Chim sighs and waves him off. "What makes you think homemade fire bombs are behind these?” “And who would want to do something like that? It’s not exactly fool-proof,” Hen frowns. “No method ever is,” Buck comments. “And we haven’t narrowed down who yet. But didn’t you guys smell paint thinner when we were clearing the scenes?” They shake their heads. “But we only cleared the scene with the judge’s husband and we kept our masks on,” Chim says.

Communication fight:

“I didn't have to,” Eddie declared, turning to face him. “I saw your reaction to seeing her again and knew everything I needed to. I saw how you acted about her when we first met. Like your only purpose was to be of use to her.” “That's not-” “You were willing to die saving the man she left you for,” Eddie cut in. Buck paused, any defense dying on his tongue. “You fought Bobby, and you fought me, trying to justify your possible death. Like you didn't matter, Buck.” “So you would’ve lost your backup plan,” Buck huffed with a wave of his hand. “Backup plan?” Eddie spat the words out like they burned his tongue. He took a step closer, fighting the urge to grab Buck by the shoulders and shake him until he realized what Eddie truly meant by putting him in his will. “Is that what you think you are to me?” “How else am I supposed to look at that, Eddie?” Buck cried.

And a few from the doppelganger fic:

Buck keeps talking, but Eddie has officially checked out of the conversation. It's bizarre enough that Buck and Ethan were comparing Eduardo and Eddie's… assets. But the fact Buck believes Eddie's is better is doing things to Eddie’s brain. Things definitely not suitable for the workplace. “Eddie,” Buck says, and judging by his tone, not for the first time. Eddie blinks at him. “Where’d you go? Are you sure you’re okay? You didn’t hit your head?” “I’m fine, bud,” Eddie assures him. “I was just thinking about something.” “You thinking what I'm thinking?” Buck asks with a mischievous glint in his eyes. Eddie raises an eyebrow, smiling at the way Buck perks up. If he had a tail, it'd be wagging forcefully enough to achieve liftoff. “What're you thinking?” “We have to set them up,” Buck declares.

Make Me Write!

[zayray030]

🐝 anon

I was trying to do something cute but once again it turned to angst lmao. I love me some hurt/comfort. I think I sent this last year? But I’m pretty sure tumblr ate my ask so lemme rewrite it all out

So like treyace early stages yknow, they’re all cute and gross and everything is great until ace starts doubting how trey feels about him. This is before they’re together but they obviously like each other and they’re flirting alllll the time but whenever it seems like more is gonna happen between the two someone needs help for whatever reason and Trey drops everything to go help. (For extra angst and a splash of jealousy I’m gonna say riddle is the one that needs things a lot). So like ace tries to get one on one time alone w Trey but he keeps dipping and ace just withdraws bc he’s so upset

I think a lot of the hurt would be ace feeling like he’s second place all the time like, his parents didn’t exactly play favorites but his older brother always seemed like the gold standard and more well liked. He feels like his friends kinda like each other more than him and he’s the after thought of the group. All his upperclassmen have their faves and he feels he’s not one of them. So when Trey starts paying attention to him more he feels like he finally has a person that puts him first and that there’s someone who values him for the first time. Which is why it hurts so much when he feels like he’s playing second fiddle once again.

So Trey notices that ace is suddenly cold and tries to ask what’s wrong but ace isn’t great and admitting his feelings and kinda shrugs him off. I think the firsties start to notice he’s sad and colder so they try and figure out what’s wrong and there’s big emotional admissions and the firsties promise to try and make ace feel like he’s not the 3rd wheel to them all and they help him with telling Trey how he’s feeling.

So then there’s another big emotional display and Trey realizes that he’s still kind of a yes man and tries to be better while ace works on being more open emotionally and the firsties regret helping bc now ace and Trey are going to be cute and gross all the time lol

Oh I do remember this ask! I just kept on second doubting myself and not knowing how to answer thos properly but by god the extra addition?????? 👏👏👏👏👏

Ace feeling like second best is kinda what inspired me to write the one fic where the senpai just started to PRAISE him and I can kind of imagine this happening in a different scenario except the first years don't go to all the senpai they just go to trey since he's the boyfriend and they all try and basically try to get Ace to open up more

I can imagine Ace overlooking a lot of things at the start of the relationship because he's too bust focusing on the fact that he know has someone where they believe he's special and good enough but then he starts to see Riddle as competition and it destroys the good feelings he had

OH THE PRE-RELATIONSHIP ANGST????? Ace just constantly getting annoyed and thinking that things will change when he and Trey finally get together

OH, TREY NOTICING???? HE is EMBARASSED when he realises that Ace realises that he thinks he's second best to anyone in this school, including Riddle, and is trying to hard to prove it but every time he tries he's confronted with the fact that Ace is right

OH THE BREAKDOWN WITH THE FIRST YEARS????? I JUST KNOW IT HURT!!! ACCUSATIONS!! YELLING!!! INSULTS!!! TEARS!!!! OH my god by the end of it they're all puffy and red and all massaging ice onto their face to help with the swelling whilst still sniffling

From then on they make a group calender where they make sure that there is a group activity between a pair or a trio of the group where they are hanging out. Ace-deuce. Epel-jack. Ortho-ace. Jack-sebek-epel. Something like that so that they're all hanging out and they have a day where they're all together and they sit and talk no matter how humiliating it is

Trey deciding that the best way to truly show Ace that he is serious is by making it public. He stands in front of the cafeteria and loudly declares he can not be bothered to help anyone and he will in fact be focusing on himself and his relationship and Ace for the foreseeable future. He then smiles, princess carries Ace, and walks out to ravish him with attention 🩷

The first years are now forced to hear Ace gush giddily about Trey forever more but at least they get free dessert out of it

[vargskelegore]

i want you around. || hbcu!shuri x black!reader

author’s note: big shoutout to @erensslut for this idea! i had a lot of fun writing this, between getting the perfect music to go with it and overall imagining myself as reader while i did this. truly a fun experience and i hope y’all enjoy this :)

requests: slightly slow on getting to them since i’m getting sent so many. apologies!

warnings: smoking.

word count: 1,185

you were doing one of your many nightly study sessions. your roommate was out for the night yet again, on a date with some dude that wasn’t even from your school. nonetheless, you had the dorm to yourself, and you used it to have a study and smoke session.

you had the place exactly how you wanted it. led’s on red, music playing as loud as you wanted, smoking a blunt you got from your roommate for the evening-- it was all so lovely. calm. you actually were getting your work done for the first time in a week, and you were glad.

there was so much going on this school year you couldn’t even focus. one of those things was shuri. since she arrived, your attention had only been on her. you didn’t even realize it until your roommate pointed it out.

you definitely thought about it while you studied. was it seriously that obvious? i mean, you definitely had a crush on her, but why would shuri ever like you back? she was the princess of wakanda, and seeing all the attention she got on campus definitely taught you that she could have anyone she wanted and not just some broke college student who probably won’t get a job with her major since that’s the way society was.

but you kept studying. you didn’t want to overthink on a good night where you could chill.

but then there was a knock. and this knock just contradicted everything from before, because once the person on the other side realized the door was unlocked, they let themselves in.

it was shuri. who else would it be? she walked in, looking down to see you on the floor.

“y/n? i tried texting you earlier and you didn’t respond.” a cough escaped her lips shortly after her sentence. realizing you were smoking, she hesitated a bit, not wanting to ruin anything for you.

“oh-- hey shuri, i didn’t realize you texted, i was.. studying.” you muttered, realizing you weren’t dressed properly. but it wasn’t new to shuri at this point. she thought you looked pretty regardless.

shuri smiled at you before she sat down, crossing her legs in apple sauce style. you’d be lying if you said she didn’t look good right now. sweatpants and a tank top. it was so basic but it showed off her physique. she wasn’t lying when she said she got a lot of exercise back in wakanda, even if she was more of a brains kind of person.

as you two sat there, it was pure silence. just the sound of music filling the room. the playlist would go from summer walker, to the internet, to solange, erykah badu, sza, and so on.

it was silence until shuri suddenly asked you, “..can i help you with your homework? i’m interested.”

you agreed since extra help was lovely. shuri was a big help while you felt yourself getting more and more zoned out.

it was all fun and games until shuri began just staring at you. you didn’t even notice how her glance was so lustful. so deeply full of emotion. her eyes went in a rotation from looking at your neck, to your jawline, and finally your lips.

your lips had her in a trance. the way you inhaled and exhaled what you were smoking. it was mesmerizing.

after twenty minutes, she suddenly spoke up. she was definitely gaining the courage to ask, because her palms began sweating and getting clammy.

“..can i try?” it was obvious what she was referring to. the blunt in your delicate fingers. it almost looked like you were too innocent to have something like that in your hands, and she adored it.

you turned to look at her. your gaze towards her was so obviously woozy. but you looked pretty to her regardless.

you stared at her for a while before smirking, an idea in your mind.

“mm.. you wanna try something with me? i’ve been wanting to do it for a while, but never had anybody to try it with.” you smiled, and watched as shuri smiled back, excited with a nod.

“of course.. what do you want me to do?” shuri was adorable, always ready to do whatever was requested of her. you could feel that loyalty trait that was just embedded into her.

“whenever i release this smoke, i want you to inhale it. can you do that?” you were so bold whenever you were high. shotgunning? you were always too shy to do that, even with your ex boyfriends from freshman year. what made shuri so different?

not like that question mattered enough to ask, because before you knew it, you were beginning to inhale.

she watched you like a hawk. the gaze she was giving you was more than a friendly glance. but when you finally exhaled, she almost immediately inhaled as soon as she saw one puff of that smoke. she exhaled through her nose, the sight being gorgeous because of the way she was staring at you.

the staring between you and her was getting to be so intense, and you two just continued this wordless but still talkative conversation through smoke.

the space between you two was closing faster than y’all realized, because before you knew it, you two got so close from this continuous smoking, that your bottom lips were touching.

this contact lasted for a while. there was a part in both of your minds that was sending sirens to back away because the other was straight-- that was far from the truth.

then it happened.

your top lip met with hers, and you two began to move in sync after that.

both of you had moisturized your lips before this-- whether it was just pure coincidence or a subconscious plan, it didn’t matter. you two were finally kissing after all this time and couldn’t even stop.

you could feel it getting heated, but she pulled away before you so she could take a breath.

you stared at her long and hard after that. it was awkward for a moment, before shuri spoke.

“..i take it you enjoyed it?” she was a bit nervous and you could tell, but you nodded and that gave her reassurance.

“i uh.. yeah. yeah i did. thank you for.. well, that.” you laughed a bit, and so did she.

the room was only filled with music again. you two stayed that way until she spoke up again.

“it’s getting late.. i’ll definitely see you after your class tomorrow, right?” the hope in her voice- how eager it was, was enough to get you excited.

“yeah! i mean.. um, yeah, of course. i’d never miss a day.” you calmed yourself down as you watched her get up and walk over do the door.

as she got to your door, leaning on the frame yet again (it was common for her at this point and never failed to make you weak), she smirked at you.

“let me know when you wanna do this again.”

and without another word, she was gone.

-

taglist (it’s very short right now, please comment if you want to be in my taglist for shuri imagines and headcanons!): @lovelyaliengirl​​

[tht0nesimp]

Home Is Where The Heart Is

tw: imprisonment but not abduction?, dub-con touching, birthday fic!, abduction

A/N: I ACTUALLY GOT IT OUT IN JUNE HOLY SHIT (June 29th….11pm)

”Dear~” Fuck him “Come on, What’s the harm in a little indulgence?” Fuck him “How upsetting!” Fuck him

Fuck him. And the scene unfolding, it could have been worse, it could always be worse. But ever since Hisoka showed up in your apartment one day—years pass, and soon enough you need up in your current predicament in his home—he would always stop by on his birthday, not always on yours, but always making sure to give you a nice toxic dose of him on his special day.

“I don’t want to engage in emotional warfare, I don’t want to do this” He lets a theatrical sigh out, continuing to drape himself across the King bed in the middle of the room(his room, he’d been somewhat not truly caring of when you set up your own space, up until he started coming home more) wrinkling what you’d perfected a few hours before.

“Just relax, all I’m asking is for some time today! I’ve never much celebrated my birthday before you, especially in my youngest years, wouldn’t now be a perfect to time to start? ♡” you let your eyes wander yonder, to the dozens of stacks of playing cards sitting the closet, and the hole in the curtains, anything to avoid giving him the satisfaction.

“ignoring me won’t work, we both know~ I’d thought you learned from the last few times” he was right, as per usual, but yet your ability to see that escaped you again. “Plus I…I thought I wasn’t allowed in public” “indeed, but I figured you wouldn’t protest to going to dinner? There’s no need to be so worried! I’m not planning anything” but it always felt like you knew he was lying, because half the time he was

it had always been difficult; trying to discern between what was real or not, whether it’s a cruel joke when he tells you he loves you or not is still a mystery. And yet, he tells you often, sometimes when your awake or sitting on the couch just thinking, or baking or cooking, but sometimes it’s late into the night when you’re asleep—unable to know that he does mean it, especially when he sleeps with your frame next to him. So vulnerable that some primal part of him just wants to hide you like a dragon and it’s jewels

♪───Ｏ（≧∇≦）Ｏ────♪

“You look lovely!” Hisokas smile digs into your very soul, as per usual. His driving slower than normal, purposeful, he’s trying to make you angry. You focus on the light rain, not daring to question him as he drives up a mountain

“I believe we’ve arrived” You exit the car, keeping your head down until you hear him rustling in the trunk, pulling out a picnic basket and a blanket that was barely big enough for the two of you. “You want to have…a picnic? At 12 at night?” “Is that a problem?” His voice loud in contrast to the sounds of the forest.

He sets the basket down, and gestures for you to sit next to him, pulling a store-bought cake a pack of generic candles out of the twine basket. “How are you going to light them?” Normally you’d just let him figure it out, but the face he made when he realized made it obvious he hasn’t exactly thought of it. “Hmm, close your eyes” you close your eyes, like a giddy kid waiting for a gift, but when you opened them the candles were lit and aflame. “A magician never reveals his tricks~” the flame burned as silence filled the moment, quiet crickets and what must have been a small stream taking the place of any conversation.

“Make a wish, Hisoka” you loosely motion towards the cake “I wish for-“ “Don’t tell me! It won’t come true if you do!” You hadn’t meant to say it, but he didn’t seem to mind as he blew them out with a giggle almost too innocent for the monster he was.

“To many more years of hell, I guess” he wraps his arm around you, not bristling like you used to at the touch. “To many more, now, would you care for a bit of champagne?” Picking a bottle of champagne and a glass out of the basket—you wonder how it didn’t break on the bumpy drive up—“alright”.

He pours the glass generously, filled entirely to the brim “I told you I wasn’t tricking you, dearest!” You side eye him “Oh shut it…” the words are muttered and soft as you try to enjoy the night sky full of stars

“To think one moment was all it took for our paths to intertwine? Truly a coincidental fate.”

Coincidental indeed