#To Me it sounds exactly how i would think every time id get my heart broken and wonder what the fuck is wrong with me / why it feels like

[breadboylovin]

ok i have to make my own longwinded post about this song because it makes me so incredibly sad and i NEED to get my thoughts out somewhere

just. just the intro alone is crazy. the fact that he is either sobbing or on the verge of tears the whole time. the fact that he's so emotional that he can't even finish some of the lines. the fact that right after saying the last "it's time" he is so overwhelmed that you can literally hear him get out of his chair and leave the room

the sob turning into a laugh that starts verse 1 makes me feel like my heart is being torn to shreds. jesus fucking christ. i personally think "being human" in the context of this song means being emotionally vulnerable with a partner/friend/etc, like letting your "ugly" side show a little bit. with that interpretation, this first lyric of verse 1 is one of the saddest things i've ever heard:

like. man. yeah i've been there. this lyric coupled with the laugh right before REALLY hurts, it feels like he's saying "god, i'm so stupid for getting myself hurt like this, it's actually funny"

that's not the saddest part of the song to me though. i think what's even sadder to me is the bridge:

this bridge really reminds me of verse 3 of fantasyworld, in that it's a point in the song where the singer (the ghost pov character in imdthy/actual quad in scrapyard) makes the objectively wrong decision (suicide in fantasyworld and not "being human" in this song)... and it's also the part of the song where they sound the happiest. i think what makes both of these songs hurt so much (at least for me) is that they know they're making the wrong choice, but they've been hurt so bad that it feels like they've run out of options, and the idea of not having to try anymore becomes a comfort. fantasyworld's "i won't have to suffer anymore if i'm dead" and utttwuh's "no one can hurt me based on my true self if they never see it". for utttwuh in particular, it's heartbreaking hearing him basically say "it was nice while it lasted :-)" over something that doesn't have to end. i need to go lie face down on the floor

i also think it's interesting where quad put this in the mixtape. despite being his "scrapyard" for songs that didn't fit on anything else, it's obviously deliberately sequenced- if it wasn't, then he would've just put them in the order the packs were released in. him putting a song that is (in my interpretation) about deciding to hide your true self right after a song called "being yourself" is not a fucking accident. when i hear them back-to-back i imagine this song as a response to being yourself's chorus, like "i can't be myself, this is why". but obviously there's a whole litany of reasons as to why he could've put them next to each other. also this is admittedly a stretch but the sort of "ramping up" that you hear in the instrumentals of both songs (starting at 2:27 in being yourself and 3:30 in utttwuh) feel really similar and makes them seem connected to me

tl;dr every time i listen to this song i feel like this

#text #music #quadeca #tw suicide #(for the discussion of fantasyworld) #FUCK. #if youre one of my however many normal followers and not one of the like 10 people in the tumblr quadeca fandom i am begging you to give #this song a listen. absolutely heartwrenching stuff. the last 3 songs on this project together feel like getting hit by a train #also if anyone has a different interpretation of what utttwuh is about please sound off in the comments #To Me it sounds exactly how i would think every time id get my heart broken and wonder what the fuck is wrong with me / why it feels like #people just WANT to hurt me #so if it sounds like something ELSE to any of you i would love to hear it #Spotify

[winniethewife]

I call you when I need you, my heart's on fire (Marc Spector x F!reader)

Prompt: Heatwave

Words: 1080

It was a record high heatwave that summer. There had been a few power outages city wide.  Marc was half way done with a movie one night when the whole flat went dark.

“Fuck, Not again” He grumbles before standing up. He stretches and looks around, trying to figure out what he was going to do with his time waiting for the power to comeback on, just then Stevens Cell rings. Marc was slightly startled but as he picks it up notices the caller ID. “My Dove” he presses the green button to accept the call.

“Hey.” He keeps it cool, She was Steven’s girl, not his, He wasn’t sure he was ready to be in a relationship again, after letting go of Layla? He just wasn’t there yet.

“Oh! Hey Marc, Um…I could use some company do you think…you could come over?” She sounded freaked out, Marc looks in the nearest reflective surface searching for input from his alter but finds only himself staring back.

“Uh. I don’t know, Steven seems to be MIA at the moment.” He says with slight annoyance. Of course just when the Brit is needed is when he decides to disappear. She lets out a shakey sigh, Marc’s ears prick up at the sound, the familiar twinge of anxiety in her voice. “You okay?”

“N-Not exactly, um… I’m sorry I just…Is there any chance you can come over anyway I…I don’t want to be alone right now… with the power cut…” Her voice starts to crack slightly as she starts tearing up, these sorts of situations always gave her the worst anxiety attacks. Marc doesn’t let her finish her thought.

“I’m on my way. Just hang on for me. Okay?” He wouldn’t admit to himself how much he had grown to care for her but he was quickly throwing on a pair of sneakers and grabbing his things to leave with out a second thought.

“Thank you Marc I really appreciate it.” She hangs up the phone. She starts to pace her flat, the heat was nearly unbearable. She had every window in the place open, she wasn’t sure if it was helping or making it worse. It seemed to take forever and at the same time no time at all for Marc to show up at her door. When she opened the door, Marc quickly flushed bright red as in the light of his torch she is revealed to be in a tank top and short shorts, damp with sweat. She smiles at him oblivious to the situation he was in, deciding to give him a quick hug. “Thank you for coming.”

“No problem.” He quickly comes in to the flat, swallowing a lump in his throat as he looks around. He wipes the sweat from his brow as she walks with him to the living room. They both sit awkwardly apart from each other, when she suddenly looks up.

“OH shit!” She stands up quickly and heads for the kitchen, Marc follows behind her to find her opening the freezer and taking out two large tubs of ice cream. “My niece’s birthday party is tomorrow and I was supposed to bring these, but they’re going to go bad before then.” She puts them down on the counter and looks at him with a small smile. Marc breaks down laughing.

“Christ, with the way you reacted I thought something bad happened.” He manages to get out while laughing as he leaned on the counter, she started laughing along with him.

“Oh my Gods, I’m so sorry! I just realized…Oh that’s too funny.” She was giggling so hard she had a hard time standing up. After a few minutes of their unstoppable laughter she got out two spoons and they went to town on the ice cream. They started talking about whatever came to mind. Her family, the book series she was reading, how bad this heat wave was.

“I know I would rather be back in the US right now, at least we have AC.” Marc says before shoving another spoon full of slightly melted Ice cream in his house.

“Well, I’m glad you are here, I wouldn’t have met you if you were still in the states.” She comments as she slightly blushed.

“You mean you wouldn’t have met Steven.” He says with a smirk

“No, I mean yes, him too but…I meant you.” She softly answers. Marc stops, this was not a conversation he was sure he should have. She continues “Marc, I know why you won’t open up to me, I know…you might not be ready but…I can’t help it, the mornings I wake up when Steven has spent the night and you’re there, the way you hold me, the way you fixed my washing machine when it was broken, the way you care about Steven, I couldn’t help but fall for you, I’ve fallen in lo-” She couldn’t finish her sentence as his lip were on hers, taking her in his arms as his lips moved against hers, hungry, wanting, no needing to be close to her. The way he had moved so quickly to her and held her so close, it was so natural, so normal, It felt right. Her hands on his chest as she presses into him, their lips dancing together in sync, his large hands gripping her hips. He feels like he can’t let go, that the moment he pulls away she will vanish. As the passion heats up, so does the temperature, and it is quickly too much to bare, she pulls away and looks up at him. In the darkness she still manages to fins his eyes. Marc couldn’t find the words, he wasn’t sure how to follow up that moment. His head was spinning, he wanted to be hers, he wanted…so much more than he ever let himself have. She opened her mouth to say something and just then the lights flicker back on. They both wince from the sudden bright light in their eyes. As they take a moment to adjust Marc finally speaks up.

“I want the same thing. I’m Sorry I didn’t admit it sooner.” He looks into her eyes, his brow furrowed.

“Don’t apologize! It’s okay, you needed time and I’m more than willing to wait.” She smiles at him, reaching up to touch his face, he leans into the touch.

“I just hope it’s worth the wait.”

Bingo Masterlist

Tag: @moonknight-events @juneknight @spacecowboyhotch @silvernight-m

#moon knight #marc spector #x reader #marc spector x reader #moonknightevents #moon boys #moon knight x reader #Spotify #oscar isaac #oscar isaac x reader #female reader

[imnotbitteranymore-imsyrupysweet]

What Pride feels like to me.

lonely, dark, and heavy. hopeless humanity is all i can see through tear-filled vision, with no hope of ever living for me fully.

claustrophobic, agoraphobic and getting worse with every joke or post i see that’s homo/transphobic.

i’m scared to go to pride for mass shootings or bombings, so i think i’ll push myself past it but as i tell my parent i love them to get ready to go i’m suddenly overcome with the fear of everything. i swallow down my tears for moments more - turning back from the door, give excuses as to why that don’t force forth the cry. so i don’t sound dramatic when i say i was just afraid id die.

but i see it in their eyes too, i feel it in the tension of the room and the forced positivity for the rainbow under such clouds of gloom. they were just as scared, they just want me to be safe. Like any parent should want, right? their baby not to be scared to walk, day or night, that they don’t have to hide and could go outside the house as themselves without landing them in a life-or-death fight.

but the world is a scary place. but what they don’t get, see, or feel for me is, one less chance turns into yet another year of fear. another year of me, alone, crying in the very bedroom of my childhood home that i learned it all in. every single piece of me that i turned over in my tiny hands. the very ones i clasped every night praying it away, along with any people showing kindness of saying that who i was was okay.

the very bed sheets i muffled those cries into. the ones i bunched up to feel like i knew what it felt like holding someone in the night, too.

i wish sometimes to wring them thin, i have but not like this - i want to drain them of every tear. i want each and every one of them back. every drop of heartache, silent shatters for others hearts sake, every ounce of blood sweet and tears that it has come to collect.

i’m not sure why, or what i’d do with it.

perhaps, i could bottle it, and then see - see all those years of pain in silence, wasted, behind me.

maybe that’s it, maybe then i could move on from what haunts me. if i could just see it, make all of that hurt something physical to show me, validate me in all of it so i could let go of any of this.

i keep thinking i have and then im right back.. here. i still dress certain ways and am afraid of my natural ways. don’t be too loud, don’t draw attention, deepen you voice, talk proper non of that girly shit, walk straight, talk straight.

to be hyperaware of every aspect of myself even for the only thing i really leave the house for, walking my dog, is tearing away any bit of mental health i build. i thought- god, i don't know what i thought.

i guess i thought i’d never be back here. that by now, i would be in a place, at least of mind, where i was free to be me. but still i look in the mirror and so rarely just see me. rather, accompanying, always it seems, is every glare, every passing remark, every lonely day at school choosing that over getting made fun of or letting someone close enough, every time i averted my eyes, instead, looking to the ground when passing anyone in this god forsaken town. --------------

(sort of separate/i wrote this portion below, first, then once i started crying at the end of this i went back up and wrote all that.. so.. yeah. i feel a bit better now though) 

every time this month comes along all i can see are the thumbs downs out weighing the likes of articles for us

 i feel like a whale strung through with a harpoon they cruelly tie weights to once i’ve enough blows to fashion rope around.

i try, i really try, every year, if i’m honest, almost every second of the day to embrace myself and let go of all their hate. i try to focus on the love and the ones out there that accept us... but at the end, i always end up feeling that crushing feeling of hates weight, pulling down on me.

i want to be proud of who i am and exactly as i was made. how i am when i let go of the hateful, close-minded people out there and focus on only the peace i come to make in here. but i end up hunched over even alone, it comes infectious, seeping into my home. and again, i find myself hating who i am because even if i love me and they hate me, and i’m fine with that, but what gets me every time is the hate that others receive greater than mine, because i hide away. i’m a quiet gay, you could say.

i can go around and be just fine for the most part, but on those off days that i come to feel so comfortable in myself exactly as i’m made and i want to dare to wear something fashionable in a more fun way, i instantly wonder if i will be okay. if i’ll make it home or if someone will hit me, kill me, abduct me and release all their hate unto me rather than just through the violently, hateful words.

i don’t get it, i never will. i’ve been on both sides, explored so many faiths and philosophies to see everything from every angle, but i still will never understand why some people choose to hate, to hate another human that is merely loving, loving another human or themselves.

to love this self that you say is created in gods image, and whom this god loves so dearly that he killed his only son for. just like you, he loves us in our sin. if you must call our love this.

but, let me just say this. as much as it hurts, i gladly will die and i cry in my sin of true love. i just hope you one day can see that you will die in your sin of hate if you don’t reflect and change your ways.

my heart, overcome with love for all humans exactly as they are in their good and bad, makes me weep, it always has. and i don’t pray, least not in that way, but i do pray that i keep hold of this, this heart, as soft as a baby birds despite all the hate it gets. and i pray that yours too may soften, and actually hear the truth that sings throughout all of time and space; that, above all we should love, and as challenging as it may be, everyone from you to me, that is the whole human race should love no matter what they face. it’s terribly hard but i am grateful for all that i’ve gone through thus far for it has made my heart grow, my mind too, in order to love all humans the way in which i do. i only pray, or wish whatever suits you, that you receive this grace too.

(It seems, pride is still fear. And that i don't know any other way to be)

#vent poem #vent poems #i was looking at the news which i never do and all the pride articles had hundreds of down votes and it out weighed the up #had a little break down spiral about it and needed to vent ill come back to edit and or add to this but yeah #im crying rn #and i gotta get to studying so RIP #pride poem #sad poem #imnotbitteranymore-imsyrupysweet #sad boi time #lgbtqia+ poetry #religion tw #religious trauma #ex christian #christian trauma #social issues #stuggling #if theres mistakes its cause my head was bumppin while i was breaking down so through tears and headache i jotted this down #lol so yeah #sorry not sorry #i needed to let it out

[markets]

Ok ANGIE MARKETS ROMANCE LESSON. Like get into comfy pajamas start kicking ur feet back and forth... angie markets romance lesson. So i know that the conceptt of the friend zone is kind of like heavily clowned on atp bc of guys who get into a friendship with a girl and go Oh noooo im in the friend zone booo why cant i get any pussy😡😡😡 but honestly IT IS REAKL in a sense... Like with friends especially best friends i feel like after a certain point in the friendship youre either crazy in love with them and totally screwed or if things continue as they are you could never see them that way ever. idek exactly when it is all i know is that its there. But also heavy emphasis on the if things continue as they are part cuz if ur the former and ur best friend is the latter thus putting you in that sort of friend zone genuinely the only way out of it is to just SNAP OUT somehow im not explaining well at all i sound like a girlboss tiktoker whos like If u dont snap him back for 3 hours on the dot u will make him obsessed with ur manifestation mind powers😈 but i swear i have a point. BC why do u think there are so many movies where someone gets in a life or death scenario or almost moves away or gets with someone else and THEN the love interest realizes they want them. i very strongly believe that everyone has at least a couple of people who if they really thought about them and their friendship they would fall for BC possibly the absolute crazy-insanest ive ever been was over one of my best friends who i knew i would never have feelings for like id thought about it and everything but i just knew it would never happen. until his birthday came up and i was writing him a rlly long letter thanking him for being my friend and talking abt how awesome he was in ways i had never rlly put into words even in my head Like i was writing "youre so this and that" and then i was like "wait actually he kind of IS so this and that..." and then i went crazy. Like i even went crayz on the paper i started word vomitting about every good quality he has cuz it was like a revelation i shouldve taken a picture of it so i could look at it and get grossed out. But im currently in that zone with him RN and i cant fake a life or death scenario or get a job offer in another country or get bitches or make him write me a letter and its just UGHHHHHHH. BC my hypothetical advice to anyone in this situation would probably be to distance yourself a little because lots of times people dont think about things they have until theyre gone Absence makes the heart grow fonder and all that. But its like why would i do that hes my friend i like talking to him. so its like Well. the romance lesson is dont be in my situation which is the moral of the whole blog

#angiemarkets.txt

[inlocusmads]

Your MC leaves one of these in Ethan’s office— how does he react?

Mal! Your asks are worth dying for haha! I love this! Thank you so much! Here's a little drabble!

101 Dating Tips To Woo Your Partner had gotten it terribly wrong. Not only was Ethan mildly surprised but somehow confused at the same time - an expression that was quite impossible to design a framework for, she'd also resorted to hiding under a table to make sure she could read his expressions.

The book said "the partner could offer a sensible chuckle and provide a playful response to their little joke", but nothing about Ethan's concerned expression was playful or chuckle-worthy. In fact, it was a mixture of possibly every single emotion that probably ever existed. There was concern, astonishment, happiness, a mild sense of uncertainty and finally, a look of relaxation, as if Ethan did expect this. That he was looking forward to this on their first month of dating. As if there was something out there - "One Month Hijinks" that he was aware about.

"You can come out of the table, you know."

"You saw me?"

"Wasn't surprising at all, actually. This is the sort of thing you'd do because of some tutorial you read up."

"What if there was some sort of secret admirer who'd sent you this?" Jane challenged him.

"That secret admirer wouldn't sign Jane Claude Fletcher and their ID number."

"Drat. I knew something was wrong." she apologised. "The thing is, you don't exactly send shockwaves to my heart because I would die and I'd like to think no partner is worth it to risk your entire life and sanity for."

"It is a nice card. I'll keep it."

"I'll get you a new card. One with an icecream cone on it."

"I believe we'll look upon this fondly when we retire together."

"What?"

"Hm, what?"

"You said something about retirement."

"Yes and retirement sounds fantastic. Now let's get to work, yeah?"

#jane fletcher & ethan ramsey #askboxed! #mvalentine

[pinkseas]

[parasocial bestie] GOOD EVENING BESTIE!!!! CHEERING U ON!!!! although itll take another few days weeks months for u to finish the fic its totally understandable why it takes that long like!! even as an artist, working on a supposed 4 hr art can take Weeks without that energy. it could be me who doesnt write tho but id always think writers have it hardest to do all the brain connecting the Thinking the Gears Moving in their head to figure out every scene every dialog every word that fits to get a perfect imagery of sumn and i respect dat... i respect yew!!!! SO DO UR BEST ALYYYYYY ILYSM YOURE DOING SO GREAT WITH UR CURRENT WORDCOUNT ALREADY 💪💪💪💪💪💪💪💪💪💪💪💪💖💞💞💕💓💖💓💕💓💖💓💓💓💖💓💕💓💖💓💖💓💓💖💞💕💞💖💓💖💓💖💓 ONTO THE NEXT FEW THOUSAND UR SO CLOSE 👊👊👊👊 BEATS THE BURNOUT BEATS EVERYTHING THAT STOPS U FROM WRITING AND BEING THE BESTEST 👊👊👊💥💥👊💥💥💥👊💥💥💥

NO BC LIKE AS SOMEONE WHO DOESN'T DO ART. i will never ever ever understand how u guys do it. anyone can picture things in their mind to some degree but how in the everloving FUCK do you make that picture REAL>?????????????? proportions shading colors how the FUCK do you do the little glowy thing how do you make it Look Right how do you make it Look Good like. ive been doing creative writing in various ways to various degrees for over a decade now and i am still So Very Mediocre i STILL couldnt explain to you how i do it or how it happens and im sure if i had that same experience with art itd be different but. i do Not have that experience with art. so instead i stare at said art and go Hey Genuinely How The Hell Did You Do That and love it with all my heart

i dont even understand how other writers write like wdym you have a PLOT you have PACING you have proper balance between characters pertaining to who you want to focus on the most/least what do you MEANNNNNN you found the most gorgeous words and turns of phrase to make something sound Exactly write or get an Exact image into someones head like. HELLO ????????????????

dorry that got away from me i may be okay at writing but i am SO very fucking good at rambling every time without fail amen <3

anyways more importnatly GOOD EVENING I LOVE U SO SO SO FUCKING BAD I SAW THIS AND IMMEDIATELY WENT 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 & then powercry emoji x2345987345 like man. MAN.

onto the next few thousand 😁😁😁 <- words of someone who would KILL to be able to accomplish this tone and such in So Many Fewer Words but who does Not Know How To Do That so ten hundred billion words it is 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

THANK U FOR BEATING UP THE BURNOUT I RLY NEED IT like its barely gotten in the way yet ive taken enough breaks given myself enough time it is just SO FRUSTRATINGGGGGGGGGGG knowing that i need those breaks and need that time like why am i not allowed to just be the specialest person in the whole wide world who never burns out ever hm? hmmm? do i not deserve it have i not suffered enough

not to be soooo silly but i genuinely cannot express how much it means to me and how much it has meant to me from the very first little comment that you just. IDK IDK IDK. you care so much and you're so fucking NICE about it and so passionate about it and EVERY single time we ramble about ANYTHING it inspires and pushes me so much and i love love love talking to you and like. u simply did not need/do not need to be constantly so fucking sweet and encouraging and wonderful about everything all the time ever but then you Are and then i die and and and <- maybe its a good thing i didnt try forcing myself to write too much this morning if this is the way im wording things today 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 idk it is just. ily so bad and i am so so happy and grateful every time i see u in my silly little inbox and to this day i owe u my Life for the thoughts that u have brought to my silly little brain and

yeha. yeah. yeah. Yeah. explodes into a billion pieces

#parasocial bestie tag #DORRYYYYYYYY MY BRAIN IS SO FRIED RN IDEK WHY :SOB: <- girl who has written so many thousand words the past week

[loricritterwritestoo]

Hi!!! Lori Critter (they/them) here! You might know me from some of my work on twitter (if ya know what i mean lololol) but I also write, and make art. I’ve been working on this lesbian sex worker road trip novel for over two years, fleshing out the basics of the main story and writing all the scenes I was really excited about. Let me know what you think! I will have a patreon available any day now where you can read the chapters in real time every week as I actually put the book together cohesively. I might add some poems here/add a novel and poetry tier, but my poems are pretty weird so we’ll see about that lol. Thank you so much for taking the time to read my work!!! (also the novel is written from the perspective of Angelica she/her who eventually IDs as nonbinary, this excerpt doesnt explain that so I thought id add it :) )

                       I hated how scared I was. My job was to be supportive, but all I was doing was sitting in a back corner of the room staring at her worriedly. Evangeline was getting ready to see a client for a date. She had just finished painting her nails and was now blushing her cheeks with her other hand, holding a compact in the shape of a heart. I always thought of myself as someone who knew all about the “rougher” side of life and had no qualms about sex work. But all I felt was worry. Eva had done this so many times before and I wanted to think she knew what to do in every single situation. And I did trust her. But I didn’t trust the world. 

                         In this past month, we had created our own universe overflowing with new love, lust, and adventure. Yes, I was scared for her. But I also didn’t want a bunch of men butting into our world. 

                      “I’m almost ready… I’m a bit dusty” Evangeline giggled. I fucking love her giggles. The way it sounds like shes shy but you know shes anything but. I watched her walk past me and was infuriated that some truck driver or lonely dad gets to touch something so sumptuous. Could even I deserve a backside that fits blue satin granny panties so well? (“they let my pussy breath!”). 

                   Eva was putting on her strappy heels at the edge of the bed. I sat down next to her and rubbed her back, my head leaning on her shoulder. She smelled so, so good. Like sweat and summer. “God, you smell amazing. You really have to leave RIGHT now?” I smiled at her. I was trying to sound like I was teasing her. But I wanted so bad for her to change her mind.

                   “You want me to stay, don’t you?” she turned and looked at me. “I’ll be fine. I know what I am doing, and its no more dangerous than my waitressing job where my boss kept a gun loaded on his desk. If I worked at a grocery store, it could get shot up. If I was “just” a stripper, my boss could turn me into his personal concubine. I’ve seen it a million times before. And it WOULD be because shes a stripper! But thats his problem, the worlds problem. I refuse to wait for the world to catch up to, like, the truth of humanity, that we’re all the FUCKING same and no ones better than anyone else. I will work my way, and all I need from you is support. This is what I want, how I am most happy. I totally get that the whole world told you the story of the poor little dead hooker, but thats just not me. If I’m killed tonight, its still not me. And it doesn’t exist. I am NOT what my clients, you, or a shitty movie tell me I am. No one is.” 

                   I just stared at her. I felt bad. I felt confused. I flinched at every snatch and quick movement she made as she finished getting ready. Maybe she could’ve not lectured me at the drop of a hat, without me even saying anything that serious. But she was right. I was being stupid and trying to protect her in ways you can never truly protect someone. And I knew from the beginning who I was running away with. Looking at her, pissed and stomping around the room, I decided to learn, as best I can, just how exactly she needed me to love her. 

                    I looked down at the floor, where her overflowing suitcase was. I saw a pair of sheer panties with little sea creatures like octopi and seahorses on them. It wasnt a thong, but it was the kind where it was meant to ride up your ass and basically serve the same purpose. 

                   “I think you should wear this. Just don’t sell it for him to  keep under his pillow.”

#lesbian #sexwork #novel #web novel #patreon #feminist writing #writer #queer #queer writers #queer writing #nonbinary #nonbinary writer

[mystoriesnotover3110]

memories suck :(

a week from tomorrow makes 4 years, July 1st 2018, the weird part about it is that 4 years ago next week will be almost the exact same weekend to the day you passed away, idk in my head you passed away on a Saturday early morning but it makes more since for it to have been a Sunday based on the fact the whole week before my parents were in Florida and we stayed at their house, the spare room upstairs still looks the same as the day you left this earth other than the added junk in it since then, as much as I love Hailey and I'm at peace with the fact now your in heaven and I'm on earth and I know god makes no mistakes when its our time its our time, I just get sad thinking about you, ill go back to being silent about you like I was for the last couple years, it hard though cause I at have a right to feel a certain way at the beginning of July, I very much wish I could celebrate your life and remember you in the way I want to but that's not how this world works, I still remember every detail to the last moments of your life, I remember how we laid in bed that night... I remember the sound of you gasping for air saying I cant breathe help me... I unfortunately don't remember to this day in those last few seconds with you if I said I loved you just know I did.. I really cared for you regardless of how other people perceive it.. everyone deals with things differently and I deal with it by writing to you every so often I know your inside me somewhere, our relationship taught me so much about life which others don't really know unless they sit and talk to me. there are times I wish like hell I didn't have to experience it the way I did your last moments you falling into my arms... I talked to your dad about a week ago and he once again said I didn't just lose me son that night I lost a daughter as well, your father knows the heart I have as you do, one day my life will come to a end and in my final moments I hope I get to take my last breath with Hailey next to me, I hope she's beside me when God takes me home, I don't want that for a very very long time but id bet a million bucks if you could have choose how you died you would have asked God to take you exactly how he did, even though since then I feel like you suffered because I don't know how long you were gasping for air before I woke up, it happened so quickly.. its not something id wish on anyone, but if I could choose how I die I hope Hailey is the one holding my hand I hope she's right by my side until the end, I think being next to the love of your life in your final moments is so important. I've been sick all this week with some kind of cold/flu and now Hailey has it and I worry over the smallest things but its so different with Hailey like I worry about her but not to the extent I did with you... I don't know where I'm going with this I'm just writing, I'm sure ill have more to say in the next 8 days. I want you to always be remembered I want your spirt to stay alive you deserve that much 24 was much to young for you to go but where you are is where your meant to be. Matthew Thomas Jones 07/01/18 😇

[justtellingmystory22]

memories suck :(

a week from tomorrow makes 4 years, July 1st 2018, the weird part about it is that 4 years ago next week will be almost the exact same weekend to the day you passed away, idk in my head you passed away on a Saturday early morning but it makes more since for it to have been a Sunday based on the fact the whole week before my parents were in Florida and we stayed at their house, the  spare room upstairs still looks the same as the day you left this earth other than the added junk in it since then, as much as I love Hailey and I'm at peace with the fact now your in heaven and I'm on earth and I know god makes no mistakes when its our time its our time, I just get sad thinking about you, ill go back to being silent about you like I was for the last couple years, it hard though cause I at have a right to feel a certain way at the beginning of July, I very much wish I could celebrate your life and remember you in the way I want to but that's not how this world works, I still remember every detail to the last moments of your life, I remember how we laid in bed that night... I remember the sound of you gasping for air saying I cant breathe help me... I unfortunately don't remember to this day in those last few seconds with you if I said I loved you just know I did.. I really cared for you regardless of how other people perceive it.. everyone deals with things differently and I deal with it by writing to you every so often I know your inside me somewhere, our relationship taught me so much about life which others don't really know unless they sit and talk to me. there are times I wish like hell I didn't have to experience it the way I did your last moments you falling into my arms... I talked to your dad about a week ago and he once again said I didn't just lose me son that night I lost a daughter as well, your father knows the heart I have as you do, one day my life will come to a end and in my final moments I hope I get to take my last breath with Hailey next to me, I hope she's beside me when God takes me home, I don't want that for a very very long time but id bet a million bucks if you could have choose how you died you would have asked God to take you exactly how he did, even though since then I feel like you suffered because I don't know how long you were gasping for air before I woke up, it happened so quickly.. its not something id wish on anyone, but  if I could choose how I die I hope Hailey is the one holding my hand I hope she's right by my side until the end, I think being next to the love of your life in your final moments is so important. I've been sick all this week with some kind of cold/flu and now Hailey has it and I worry over the smallest things but its so different with Hailey like I worry about her but not to the extent I did with you... I don't know where I'm going with this I'm just writing, I'm sure ill have more to say in the next 8 days. I want you to always be remembered I want your spirt to stay alive you deserve that much 24 was much to young for you to go but where you are is where your meant to be. Matthew Thomas Jones 07/01/18 😇 

[alastorswifee]

Her Sweet Melody

Donnie x Reader

Pronouns being used: she/her

This takes please during TMNT Fast Forward!!

~

I walked into the bar holding my guitar case, I always come here to sing in exchange for money since I'm in need of it at the moment.

I walked up to the stage, the lights weren't on thankfully so no one would've seen me as I took my guitar out of its casing. I sat on the stool infront the microphone and looked at Jason, the manager, he offered me to be the live act every Friday night so I'm close to him.

Jason turned the lights for the stage on and every creature looked at me, they either whistled, raised an eyebrow or made quiet commentary. I shook my head and strummed my guitar, I started singing and everyone went silent.

Donnie’s POV

My brothers and I walked into the bar, I don't see the point of celebrating at a bar but I went along with it so I won't 'kill their vibe'

As soon as we walked in I heard a woman’s voice singing. I didn't think someone would sound so good but here I am hearing soothing vocals, I looked ahead to see a girl. She was beautiful, from her head to her feet.

I listened to her and it seemed as if we came when the song was ending cause it sounded as if she was finishing up.

"Come on and feel without me.....tell me how's it feel..sitting up there.." she sings softly, my heart started beating faster, I didn't know what this feeling was..was it admiration?

"Thank you guys so much.." she smiles and everyone started cheering and clapping for her, I smiled wide, that voice was so soothing.

Raph nudged me and I looked at him confused "what is it?" I asked, Raph grinned wide "you were starin at that girl for a long time" he said with a cheeky grin. "Yes I was, and?" I asked confused, "you liiiikkkeeee herrrrr" Mikey wiggles his eyebrows. I shook my head "Mikey please, just because I stared at her doesn't mean I'm attracted to her”

I said and crossed my arms. "Dude we've never seen you stare at a girl like that before" Mikey pointed out, "that is probably because I'm fascinated by her singing" I added. Raph shook his head "admit it Don, I think ya like her" he said and walked to the others.

Like her? I cant do that..She lives in the future and I’m from the past. Even if we become close, it won’t last forever..

Before I knew it my legs were moving on their own but I didn’t try to stop myself in any way.

I started walking towards the stage, hearing Mikey and the others yelling things like 'go get her!' And much more but I am not going to bother. I walked up onto the stage and smiled at her. She was tuning her guitar, "hello ma’am" I kindly smiled. She looked up at me and smiled shyly...my heart started beating quickly "Hello.." she greeted and turned her full attention onto me. "M-my name is Donatello" I stuttered, "Y/N" she replied with a cute grin, I guess she noticed my stutter.

"I just came up to tell you that your voice was quite lovely and soothing" I smiled at her, I saw her face slowly turn red and she grinned wide "thank you, no one has ever said that to me.." she said, I was shocked, how can someone not tell her that?

"No problem, are you going to perform another song or is that all?" I asked, "that's all, I guess you came in late cause I performed a few songs before" she said, I nodded. "So if you don't mind me asking, would you like to have a drink with me?" I asked kindly and put my hand out for her to take, she smiled wide and took my hand, standing up.

I held her hand gently as we walked off stage and towards the bar, I sat on a stool and she did as well. The bartender walked up to us "what would you two like?" He asked "I'll just have a beer" she said, I didn't know exactly what there is to drink at a bar so I just decided to go simple "id like some water" I said.

The guy nodded and went off to grab the stuff for us, Y/N looked at me confused "you don't drink?" She asked, "I didn't exactly drink before, this is my first time in a bar" I replied as the bartender gave Y/N her beer and gave me my water. She looked at me shocked "wow that's so interesting, normally every guy I know had already been to a bar" she commented and sipped the beer.

"Well I'm not every guy now am I?" I chuckled and she grinned "exactly that" she replied and I smiled wide.

~a week later~

I was walking down an isle in the grocery store, it was my turn to cook and the penthouse had no food (thanks Mikey) so I decided to go grocery shopping.

As I continued down the isle, grabbing the things I needed, I heard a familiar voice, soothing and soft. I quickly walked to the end of my isle and walked into the direction of the voice, I peaked into an isle and saw Y/N. She was holding a basket and looking for some items while singing, she sounded so comforting.

I walked towards her, tapping her shoulder. She jumped and turned around "Donnie!" She squealed, hugging me tight, I felt this feeling and I think it's the term April told me, something to do with butterflies in your stomach or something similar to that.

I tend to get curious and ask about certain things when it came to relationships, even tho I knew I wouldn’t experience it I still wanted to know.

I hugged back and smiled wide "hey!" I greeted, I felt her smile against my plastron and pull away "I didn't expect to see you here" she said, I chuckled "I didn't expect to see you either" she grinned in response "what's up?" She asked "Oh I’m buying ingredients to make me and my family dinner" she nodded and smiled "I forgot to ask you something last time" I added, she gave me a confused look.

"I never got to keep in contact with you" I smiled, "Oh" she giggled "would you like my number?" She asked, I nodded and grabbed my phone, handing it to her. She put her number in and handed me my phone, "Text me ok?" She asked, I nodded. "It was nice to see you Donnie" she said, I nodded once more "it was nice to see you too". "I'll see you around or you can text me" she smiled and started walking away, "bye" I waved and walked away.

I cant be falling for her..can I?

#tmnt leonardo #tmnt donatello #tmnt raphael #tmnt michelangelo #tmnt #tmnt 2007 #tmnt x reader #tmnt headcanons #tmnt 2012 #tmnt 2014 #tmnt blog #tmnt fast forward #tmnt fandom #tmnt 2003 #tmnt 2k14 #tmnt 2003 x reader #tmnt 2k7 #tmnt 2k3 #tmnt 2k12 #tmnt 2018 #tmnt donnie x reader

[scuttling]

Crush

Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairing: Aaron Hotchner/Female Reader Word Count: 3,349 Tags: 18+, NSFW, Crushes, Fluff and smut, Rough sex, Unprotected sex, Manhandling Summary: Hotch has had a crush on the new member of his team for as long as he can remember. He keeps his distance, but he knows everything about her—her favorite snacks, how she takes her coffee. They share a room on a case, and at first, he's nervous, but being around her is comfortable, and he longs for more. Is it possible she feels the same way about him? *Requested by anon Link to A03 or read below!

Aaron has a crush on the newest member of his team. There’s no use denying it, or trying to compartmentalize it and pretend it doesn’t exist; it’s inappropriate, irresponsible, and just plain stupid, but he can’t talk himself out of it no matter how hard he tries. He is completely infatuated with her, whether he likes it or not.

And he does like it, sometimes. Sometimes, she will catch his eye on the jet, or in the office, shoot him a soft smile, and his heart beats fast, his chest feels warm. He thinks, I might never get to be with her, but she does think of me, and that’s something, at least.

Sometimes, he hates it, especially times like these, when they’re all on the jet and Morgan is using every ounce of his charm and charisma, the easy smile he doesn’t think twice about flashing, to try to get her to go out on a date with him. She hasn’t accepted the offer yet, and he’s been trying for about five months, almost the entirety of her career at the BAU, but that doesn’t make Aaron feel any better.

He knows Morgan very well. He’ll convince her eventually, and even if it doesn’t go anywhere, he’ll think about the two of them together all the time and never be able to stop. It will take his (mostly) innocent crush to a darker place, a place of anger and jealousy he’s not proud of, but has no control over.

“I would take you on the most incredible date of your life, mama. Dinner, dancing, a moonlit stroll; we go out for a couple of drinks, maybe I'll try to steal a kiss...”

“Maybe I’ll punch you in the face...” she says with a smirk, but he knows flirting when he hears it, and her threat carries no weight. Morgan shrugs, grins.

“Maybe, but I can take a punch. You need a man, and I am fully prepared to be that man; one little love tap won’t stop me.” She raises her eyebrows, looks over at him with narrowed eyes.

“Okay, first thing’s first: I don't do love taps, I do right hooks, so don't tempt me. Second, I don’t need a man, I want a man, and not just any man will do. When I want something, I want something specific. If I want dessert—”

Cherry cheesecake, Aaron thinks. He’s seen her order it three times, is slightly obsessed with the sound she makes when she takes the first bite.

“—I want cherry cheesecake or nothing. Not chocolate, not strawberry. If I want a glass of wine—”

Pinot Grigio if she wants white, Merlot if she wants red—she almost never wants red.

“—I want Pinot Grigio or nothing. If I have to have red, I’ll order Merlot, but I won’t be happy about it. When we’re on a case and I can’t sleep, and I come out to stare at the vending machine for a midnight snack—”

She either gets peanut butter crackers, or barbeque chips. That’s an easy one. Morgan has to know that.

“—I’ll get barbeque chips, or peanut butter crackers, or nothing. I am uncompromising when it comes to the things I want. So, Derek Morgan,” she says with a smirk, and a bit of attitude; it only makes Morgan smile brighter, and Aaron refrains from rolling his eyes, “when I want a man, I want a specific type of man, and I won’t be worn down no matter how many times you ask me out.”

“And what specific type of man do you want?” he asks, crossing his arms. Everyone is paying attention to their conversation, even Aaron, though he tries to pretend he isn’t.

“Well for starters, a man. You’re acting like a guy right now, and I’m not interested in guys.” JJ says ooh, burn, and everyone laughs. “I want a man who knows who he is, even if who he is isn’t pleasing to everyone. I want a man who isn’t afraid to feel vulnerable, who can be tender, who doesn’t run from a situation just because it makes him emotional. I want a man who pays attention to me when it counts, not just when he wants something. I want a man who will respect my boundaries,” she says, a little pointed, “who will help me grow but not try to change me. Most importantly, I want a man who can handle me, and I don’t think you can handle me.”

Aaron blinks hard at that. He’s pretty certain he could handle her, absolutely wants to.

“Alright, I can’t argue with a woman who knows what she wants, and it’s obvious you know what you want,” Morgan says, palms up in surrender. “Let me know when you find the lucky guy—man—so I can warn him about you.”

“Baby, I am the warning,” she says with a wink, and Aaron shifts in his seat.

It’s going to be a long flight to California. When they get to the hotel, JJ hands out the room assignments as usual, and he’s very surprised when she hands her a key out of the envelope marked 313, and then does the same for him. JJ shrugs.

“They didn’t have any singles, I guess. We’re all doubled up.” The other woman adjusts her bag on her shoulder, looks up at him.

“Is that a problem? I promise I won’t disturb you,” she says with a smile, and he shakes his head and, hopefully, his nervousness.

���No, of course it’s not a problem. Thanks, JJ. Looks like we’re this way,” he says, guiding her down the hall.

Their room is a little cramped, but clean, and he takes the bed closest to the door, sets his bag on it. She walks past him, throws her bag on the other bed and puts her hands on her hips, stares down at the ground. It takes him a moment to understand why.

“We could probably move your nightstand against the wall, share the one in the middle.” She looks up, confused, and he rubs the back of his neck. “You need room to lay down your yoga blanket, right? I know you’ve mentioned before that it helps put you to sleep when we’re traveling.” A brilliant smile curves across her face.

“Yeah, that’s exactly what I was trying to figure out. Thanks.” He moves to help her, but she lifts the table easily, tucks it in the corner between the desk and the lamp. She rolls out her blanket, pulls an outfit out of her bag. “I’m just going to get changed, and then the bathroom is all yours; I’ll be out of your hair.”

“It’s no trouble,” he says, and he means it; she just nods and smiles again, ducks into the bathroom to change her clothes.

Her outfit is… it’s tight, for lack of a better description, a strappy sports bra and patterned leggings; she does a lot of bending, and stretching, and balancing, her body strong and sleek. He tries to go about his business, but he can’t stop looking.

Once he’s finally able to convince himself to look away, lest she get suspicious of his inactivity, he changes his clothes, takes off his watch and sets it beside his gun, badge, and phone on his side of the nightstand. He pulls out his tablet to get caught up on the news, and it’s actually kind of comforting, the soft hum of her breathing the only sound in the otherwise quiet room.

He doesn’t realize she’s finished until she walks around between the beds, grabs her badge off the nightstand and slides her credit card out from behind her photo ID. “Heading to the vending machine; need anything?” she asks, and he shakes his head—he already brushed his teeth—earning one of her soft smiles.

She grabs her key, slips out the door, and returns a few minutes later with a pack of peanut butter crackers and a bag of peanut M&Ms—his guilty pleasure. She tosses them onto the bed beside him, and her lips twitch, and she strolls into the bathroom and turns on the shower.

He eats his M&Ms and does not imagine what she looks like wet.

Ultimately, he’s happy she was so thoughtful to bring him a snack, but that does mean he needs to brush his teeth again. The bathroom door is open, steam wafting out, so he figures it’s safe to enter while she finishes getting ready for bed. She’s standing at one of the double sinks, wrapped up in a fluffy white towel, brushing her teeth, and he steps up beside her and prepares to do the same.

It’s pleasant, companionable, the familiar sounds of scrape-scrub-spit, and then she washes her face with some foamy, herbal scented concoction he couldn’t begin to identify. He washes his with soap and a little hot water, and she cringes; he frowns.

“What is it?” he asks, toweling off. She hesitates a moment, then flicks open a blue bottle, squeezes a bit of cream into her hands, and lifts them toward his face, pausing with a question in her eyes. He swallows, but leans in closer, and she rubs it over his cheeks, his chin, his forehead.

“Soap like that isn’t good for your skin, not even for guys, and I figured you don’t moisturize. This stuff is unisex, and it will keep you looking young and fresh and handsome; you can have this one, I’ve got more.” She pulls back, washes her hands, and he’s left kind of dazed, longs for the feel of her hands on his face again. That was an unexpected, but very welcome, thing. The next morning, he’s up early, so he showers and gets dressed and then heads down to the lobby for some coffee and a paper. He grabs two cups, stacks them in his hand when he goes to unlock the door to their room; she is awake when he returns, freshly dressed, hair pulled back, and she takes the coffees from his hand before he spills them everywhere.

“Thanks. The one on the left is for you; two sugars,” he says offhand, grabbing his cup and setting it down on the nightstand, flipping open the paper. He sits down on the edge of the bed closest to the nightstand, doesn’t notice her smile, but she settles on her bed across from him, sips her coffee, and reaches up to pull the sports section out from between his fingers. He maybe cracks a smile of his own. That evening, they get back to the room a little cranky, another late night full of dead end leads, and she skips yoga and heads straight for the shower. The blissfully hot water feels good against her skin, and she thinks about touching herself, but it wouldn’t be appropriate, not with Hotch just outside the door.

The thought only makes her hotter, but still, she refrains.

When she’s wrapped up in her towel, she pushes open the door like the night before, starts brushing her teeth, and it’s not long before Hotch fills the space beside her, copying her actions. She washes her face, and he washes his with soap again—so, so wrong—but at least he uses the moisturizer she gave him afterward. Baby steps.

He leaves the room, and she follows him out to grab her pajamas, sees a bottle of water and a bag of barbeque chips laying on her bed.

Enough is enough, she thinks. She wasn’t sure, until they shared this room, but now she’s 100% certain that Hotch has a thing for her, and she’s harboring her own thing, which is stupid. If she wants him (she really, really does) and he wants her, why aren’t they naked already?

Thankfully, that’s easily remedied. She drops her towel, and Hotch looks up from his tablet, drops his jaw.

“I’ve been thinking about last night; how shy you were about our sharing a room. It made me wonder if you’re shy about other things, too.” She walks around her bed, stands between them, presses her fingers to his tablet to push it down, out of his hands. “Are you shy, Hotch?”

“No,” he says roughly, making no effort to conceal the way his eyes sweep over her naked body. She’d blush, but she’s not the blushing type.

“No?” She climbs up, settles in his lap—he’s tenting his boxers already and it makes her feel awesome—and his hands fall to her thighs, spread around him, squeezing roughly. She moans, rolls her hips slowly. “Do you think you can handle me, Hotch? I’m kind of a lot.”

He answers with his hands, grabs her face and pulls her down for a long, dirty, messy kiss. Her chest is heaving by the end of it, and she’s definitely leaving a wet patch on his underwear, she’s so fucking horny. He tips her back, so she’s laying against the sheets, tugs off his shirt, and drapes himself on top of her, tilts her head to the side so he can get his mouth on her neck.

“Oh my god, mmm,” she sighs as he sucks on her throat, grinding his clothed dick against her, and she moves her hands down to sweep them over his body, but he grabs them, pins them up by her head instead. “Fuck, Hotch.” It leaves her mouth as a trembling gasp, and he looks up at her, his eyes dark and hard; he growls out a command for her to stay—she’s sure as shit not going for a damn stroll any time soon—and leans up, pushes his boxers down, and flips her body over.

She’s laying a little sideways, kind of lined up with the bottom corner of the bed—it always makes her feel like a complete whore to fuck anywhere but right up against the pillows, so this alone is enough to get her super hot. He gets both broad palms on her ass, squeezes her hard enough to hurt (and damn if that doesn’t make her pussy drip) and then slowly slides his fingers over her slit, making her toss her head back and groan.

“Oh, yeah. So, so good,” she sighs as he rubs her, spreads her wetness between her lips, over her clit and her mound so she’s sticky and soaked and begging for more, and then he plants his hands on either side of her and thrusts in so hard she has to dig her fingers into the sheets or she’ll go skidding off the bed. “Holy fuck,” she gasps, clutching for dear life as he slams inside roughly and deeply, but so slow it’s almost torture.

“So how am I handling you?” he asks, low into her ear, leaning in to press his chest heavily against her back, rolling his hips and grinding where he’s seated deep. He pulls out almost all of the way and then slams back in so quickly her whole body stutters forward, and her head’s empty, no thoughts but my boss is fucking me and my boss is fucking me good.

She just pants in reply, and he repeats that motion over and over, fast, nearly withdrawing just to fill her until his balls slap against her; she feels filthy, and amazing, and a little pissed it took them this long to do this, and she comes screaming his name, yanking so hard at the bedding that she pulls the fitted sheet right off the mattress.

He keeps pumping inside her, and she clenches around him, moans. He grunts, leans in to nibble her ear. “That’s my girl. Can you handle me?”

“My god, yeah.” She wants to, at least; she’s never been fucked this good in her life, so she’s honestly not sure how much she can handle. It’s always the quiet ones, she really should have known.

“Trust me on this,” he whispers, and she does because she does; he puts his hands on her arms, pries them off of the bed and moves her forward, guides her hands to the floor to support her so she’s half off the bed, her ass up. She’s strong, and he knows she’s strong, but she’s not sure she’s strong enough for this because he just fucking destroyed her and her legs are still shaking. “Trust me,” he coos again, and he shifts up, gets one foot on the ground, holds tightly to her hips, and pounds into her fast and hard, short thrusts that have her moaning and groaning and coming a second time before he even comes once.

He does come, though, just after, and she’s glad she’s got an IUD because if not she’d be leaving here fucking pregnant, no doubt about that.

“Hotch,” she gasps, daring to reach an arm back to touch him, and he pulls her up, lays her back, and kisses her, smoothing his hands all over her body. “Jesus. That was incredible.” She cards her fingers through his hair—he’s breathing heavy too, looks as dopey and pleased as she feels, which makes her smile. “I’ve kind of had a crush on you for the last few months. Thought you didn’t notice me much,” she says softly, and he laughs, incredulous.

“Didn’t notice you? All I do is look at you,” he murmurs, brushing his fingers over her cheek. She grins.

“Yeah, no, I got that. I figured that out; sorry it took me so long.” He leans in for a kiss, softer and slower, and she gets a little horny again, isn’t sure how that’s possible. “Why’d you stay away so much, if you liked me?” She’d done what she could to get his attention, smiling at him, brushing up against him when she could make it look innocent enough, but he’s always been the picture of propriety, maybe even a little distant.

“Morgan,” he says, making a face like he realizes how silly that was. “He’s been trying to ask you out and I figured you’d say yes eventually; he’s confident in ways I’m not. He’s a lot of things I’m not.”

“Yeah, that’s true, and I like you both for the ways you’re different, but his pursuing me has always been a game. A joke. He’s like a brother to me and he knows it. All in fun,” she says, and then he looks like he feels really silly. She leans up for a kiss. “All's well that ends well though, right?”

“Has this ended well?” he asks, a question in his eyes, and she runs her hands over his arms, his sides.

“If it’s up to me, I’d say this doesn’t have to end at all.” He puts a hand in her hair, kisses her deeply, passionately, and brings a few fingers to rub against her clit. She inhales sharply, licks her lips, and sinks back against the bed. “Oh my god, Hotch.”

“That’s right, baby. I’m your man,” he breathes into her ear, and she groans. Yes, he fucking is. The next morning, she goes to the lobby to pour their coffee, grab a paper to share. She passes Morgan—not a morning person—who grumbles a greeting and then does a double take.

“Whatcha got on your neck there, sweetheart?” he asks, and she grins privately, then schools her expression and turns to face him.

“What? Oh, that,” she says, poking at the purple hickey from the night before. “I’ll cover it with makeup later; needed my coffee first.” He blinks a couple times like he's missing something, frowns.

“Did you go out last night after we got here?”

“Nope, jumped in the shower and went straight to bed,” she replies, which is actually the truth. It just wasn’t her bed. She didn’t say anything about sleeping.

“Then who…?” It’s then that Hotch brushes by them, reaches out a hand for his cup.

“One sugar, one cream,” she says as she passes it over, and they both smile. Morgan knocks his cup over and spills coffee all over the floor.

Taglist ❤️: @arsonhotchner @mrsh0tchner @ssahotchie @sleepyreaderreads @mintphoenix @meghannnnnn @disgruntledchowchow @azenpal

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x female reader #hotch x reader #hotch x female reader #ask #request #crush #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic

[buckyownsmylife]

Walk Away - Tom Hardy smut

The one where Tom is your mentor and really shouldn’t feel this attracted to you.

Warnings: smut, age gap, famous!reader, mentor!Tom Hardy, breeding kink, risky sex, tiny insinuation of a size kink, (blink and you’ll miss), mention of a panic attack with barely any descriptions of it

Word count: 3k>

Tom’s P.O.V.

“Tom.” I stopped rubbing the sleep off my eyes the second my name fell from her lips. I didn’t need her to identify herself - I didn’t need to check the caller’s ID. I’d recognize her voice anywhere, regardless of just how groggy I was. But the tone in which she said my name, the tired, dead feeling shining through it, was what really startled me awake. “Tom, I need you.”

The desperation in her voice scared me, and I was out of bed before I could even realize what I was doing. “You’re home?” I confirmed, waiting only for the expected answer while I looked for my keys. “I’ll be there in five. Hang on tight.”

The night was cold, but I don’t think I would have noticed it if it wasn’t for the chill that had me freezing from the inside. I didn’t even consider changing out of my sleepwear - sweatpants and a loose shirt - mostly because I didn’t want to waste time on something so trivial, especially since it wasn’t that different from what I’d normally wear around her.

I’d known her for over four years now. I’d never witnessed this level of distress on her. In fact, she was never anything short of enthusiastic and happy, a bubble of sunshine that managed to energize everyone around her. For her to be this way, something big had to have happened, and it pained me to imagine just what could have been. 

It pained me to imagine her suffering, and not being there to help. So I stepped on the pedal, driving madly, knowing my own heartbeat would only get back to a regular pace once I had her in my arms again, could smell her perfume as I buried my face in her hair.

She wasn’t by the door when I got to her house, so I let myself in with the extra key that I had, noticing all the lights were off. There was only one place she could be. 

My feet took me there without even having to think about it, like there was some sort of instinctive calling from her body to mine. When I got to her bedroom, a dim light showed just how effective that connection was, as I pushed in to find her laying on her bed, waiting for me.

“What happened?” She sat up when I pushed the door open, quietly closing it behind me, and for a second there was no reaction as she took in my presence, like she needed time to realize I really was there. But then her eyes glistened, denouncing a flow of tears, and she just shook her head, as if asking me to contain my curiosity for just a bit.

“Can you just hug me?” She asked, and I felt my heart squeeze at the realization of just how unaware she was of my feelings for her. I’d do anything, anything for the woman in front of me. A hug was nothing, and I ached to have her in my arms anyway.

I sat by her side and immediately, she was on me, climbing on my lap until she could hide her face on the crook of my neck, and I froze only momentarily before wrapping my arms around her smaller body. Despite how wrong it morally felt - particularly when I remembered I wasn’t wearing any type of underwear - I couldn’t deny how right it was to both my heart and my body, how much it comforted me to feel her this close.

So there we stayed, for God knows how long. We didn’t speak - I was waiting for her decision to explain what had happened, and she clearly needed to come to terms with whatever it was. Just being there for her was enough for me, so I kept rubbing her back, eventually pulling away to press kisses on her temple, trying to ignore how her little sighs of comfort made me feel.

“I-I think I’m ready to talk.” The second I couldn’t feel her warm breath against my neck anymore, I felt cold again, but to my surprise, she didn’t climb down my lap, didn’t try to put some space between us. 

Instead, her arms remained around my shoulders, fingers playing with the collar of my shirt, making me shiver every once in a while when her nails dragged along my flesh.

“Okay,” I encouraged, only because she seemed nervous to say whatever it was that she wanted to tell me, her eyes avoiding mine before she finally managed to meet my gaze again, after taking a deep breath.

“Shawn broke up with me.” A sharp inhale resonated throughout the room, and it took me a few seconds to figure out it had been my own doing. I’d never liked her boyfriend, not ever since she first told me they had been going out, and despite how hard I tried to hide it from her, she had always been aware of my true feelings for him. 

Knowing he was the one to blame for her current state of mind only served to turn my concern into anger. 

“Why?” That was the only thing I could think to ask, the only thing I could focus on as I struggled not to throw her on the bed and run out after him. But I’d never be able to leave her alone, especially not since she was so clearly vulnerable.

There was another second of hesitation before she finally revealed, “It was because of you, actually.” Now that froze me into a state of shock. I couldn't speak, couldn’t think, all I could do was stare down at the face of the woman I loved who looked like she hadn’t just dropped a bomb on me.

“What?” Her giggle made my heart skip a beat for a second. It felt good to know that she was already starting to feel better, it felt even greater to know that I was the reason for her laughter, even if I was still fucking confused.

“Don’t worry about it.” Now that just wasn’t good enough. I needed to know, needed to understand. How had I been the cause for their break-up? But she didn’t seem too eager to open up about this specific part of her day, and so I decided to break out the big guns.

I laid her down on the bed, hovering over her so our eyes remained connected. “Tell me,” I quietly begged, and although she still looked anxious, I knew she was close to breaking. “I really want to know.”

She sighed, eyes closing for only an instant and for that instant, I allowed myself to believe that she was breathing me in, appreciating the feeling of being covered by my much larger body, exactly like I did.

“He was jealous,” she finally admitted, but the frown in my face only deepened, asking her for more information. “He felt like I prefered your company over his, which to be fair, it’s the truth. When I’m with you, I never want to leave.”

I didn’t know what to say. So I just stood there, frozen, looking deep into her eyes, searching for any sign of mockery, but found none. She looked hurt, but not like she regretted what happened. It just looked like she needed me there.

And so I stayed. I laid down by her side on the bed and pulled her to me, so her head rested on my chest, and I thought. I thought long and hard about what she’d told me and about how I felt. I thought so much, in fact, that I could see a panic attack forming, as the weight of my feelings threatened to suffocate me, and before I could realize what I was doing, I was already sitting up on the bed and looking for my keys.

“Where are you going?” She rubbed the sleep off her eyes as she tried to understand what was happening, but to be quite honest, I didn’t understand it myself. I just knew I needed to get the hell out of there, or I would end up saying something I’d regret. “I’m so comfy, can’t you just stay?”

It was so hard to breathe that my chest heaved with the labour of getting each breath in and out, so I forced myself to focus on it, stopping only for a few seconds, but it was enough to have me spilling things I’d been managing to hide for years.

“Don’t ask me that. Please.” My voice sounded hoarse, like I hadn’t used it in too long. “Because I’ll stay, and it’ll only hurt me further.” That caught her attention, wiping any remnants of sleep from her in an instant. 

“I wish I could walk away from you. Time and time again I wished for it, when you began dating that jerk, when I first realized I had feelings for you… but I just can’t. I’d do anything for you. All I can think about is you, all the fucking time. I want you so fucking much. I love you way too much. And being just your friend, your mentor, your confidant, is killing me.”

I closed my eyes to catch my breath, trying to focus, trying to make anything make sense again. In that time, I feared the worst. I thought about her leaving, her hand leaving a warm imprint on my face as she slapped me. I thought about her (rightfully, in my mind) accusing me of betraying her, calling me a monster, a pervert. 

I thought I had imagined every possible scenario, but I was still surprised when I opened my eyes to find her seating on the edge of her bed, gaze resting on mine, licking her lips. “I wanna feel you,” she said, and my mind swirled with this unexpected outcome.

“Excuse me?” I scrambled to keep myself up, finding a hold in the back of a nearby chair, my entire body trembling with the effort to hold back, the effort to think and listen, instead of just doing what my instincts begged me to do - pounce on her and fuck her raw.

“I want you inside of me,” she calmly stated, like it was no big deal. It was clear that it was the best way she had found to ask me for what she wanted, but I just couldn’t believe it.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

“Y-you want me?” I resisted the urge to roll my eyes, understanding the delicate nature of this situation, anxious to not let it slip through my fingers nor hold it so tightly it would end up breaking and hurting me in the process. 

I closed the gap between us, getting out of the bed to come stand in front of him, hoping the proximity would ease him the same way having his body near would calm me.

“I’ve always wanted you,” I confirmed, hoping he’d see just how truthful the statement was, needing him to see how much more I wanted to say. “But right now…” Without thinking, my hand reached out to fiddle with the edge of his shirt, the sight of the boner struggling against his sweatpants unmistakable to me. “Right now, I’ll do anything if you just touch me.” 

A sharp exhale of breath, his warmth hit my face, giving me a taste of what was to come. But I wanted the real thing. I wanted to know how it felt from his lips, to have his tongue forcing my mouth open, making me forget my need to breathe.

“I need you.” I got what I wanted then. His face lowered to mine, mouth finally close enough for me to reach, after what felt like years of desire. And it was everything that I’d always imagined his kiss to be - overpowering, dominating and overwhelmingly him. I was instantly addicted.

When he finally allowed our lips to part, taken by his need to breathe, I slowly began to peel away my clothes, fingers trembling in quiet desperation for him to see this for what it truly was: the meeting of desire and lust after years of denial and repression.

“Please fuck me,” I pleaded as my naked body was revealed to him inch by inch, willing to do whatever would get me what I needed. “I swear I can handle you.” That last part was added almost as an afterthought, when I watched his hand curl around a tightness I’d never witnessed in real life before.

I knew what was going through his head - the fight between what was expected of us and what we wanted, our feelings and our professions, but nothing else mattered to me more than knowing he’d spear me open with his length.

“Lay down and spread your legs for me.” Just that order was enough to have me whining low in the back of my throat, but I did as he said, even held my ankles so his view of me would be unobstructed. But that meant I had to watch him as he knelt by the bed and took a hold of my legs, licking his lips in desire at what he saw.

“Please, please, fuck me,” I repeated, knowing I wouldn’t handle his lips on me right now. I needed his thickness, his hardness, I needed to be filled by him, to feel him inside of me.

“Let me just get a taste,” he tried to convince me, eyes focused on the apex of my thighs. I almost laughed at how it looked like his mouth was watering as he stared at my exposed pussy, but my need was far too great to allow me any sort of distraction.

“Later, okay? You can eat me out as long as you want, just… later.” That had his head snapping up, gaze at last meeting mine with a soft sentiment that I knew was at least half vulnerability.

My poor Tommy. Even after all of my confessions, he still couldn’t believe that what was happening was actually real. He still doubted I would want him in the morning, as something more than what I wanted him when I called him tonight.

“Touch me, Tom,” I quietly asked, raising his hand to where I was aching for him, rubbing myself with his thumb. “Touch me right here, please, I’m begging you.”

Hearing those words fall from my lips changed something in him. Where once he was hesitant, a sudden confident smirk, almost arrogant, slowly spread over his lips, taking over his entire aura.

Tom’s P.O.V.

“So needy for me…” I whispered as I witnessed the truth behind my statement. She was sopping wet, almost dripping down the duvet, and as much as I wanted to get my mouth on her, I could accept that we’d have the time to do that later.

I loved the idea of a later.

“I’ll take care of you, darling.” I whispered as I climbed up her body once more, occupying the space between her thighs like I was always meant to be there. “Let me take care of you.”

I brushed my lips against hers, relishing in this closeness, in the moment just before it all changed. I was sure she could feel the weight of my cock against her thigh, and it was probably what prompted her to wrap her arms around my shoulders, breathlessly telling me, “Yes. Yes, please.”

Hissing as I finally slid my length inside of her, I knew I was in trouble the second I bottomed out, biting on her shoulder to keep myself from groaning and drowning out her delicious little sounds. She felt too good. No one should feel this good.

A broken gasp (or was it a moan) called my attention, taking me from my efforts of restraining myself to her, completely. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?” I asked, brushing the hair away from her face as I watched her open her eyes and blink a few times, trying to keep tears from flowing down her cheeks. “Does it hurt?”

But she just shook her head, hands searching mine until she could lace our fingers together. “No,” she breathed, hips jutting up in a silent way of asking me to move. “It feels so good.”

I bit the inside of my cheek in an effort not to smile widely at her admission, finally allowing myself to slowly begin dragging my cock out of her tight channel before pushing it in again.

“It does?” I questioned, loving to hear her say it. “Well, I’ll always make you feel this good, baby. How does that sound?” She moaned out loud as I lowered my head to lave her breasts with attention, relishing in every little sound that escaped her beautiful lips as I pounded her on the bed.

“Fuck, you’re such a good girl, darling.” Another loud moan was all I got as a response, paired with her fingernails biting on the skin of my back. “My good girl, yes?” I insisted, rubbing my jaw against her neck, breathing her in.

I was drunk on her, on this entire experience, still not quite believing it was really happening. She was really here, getting fucked by me. “You’ll be my good girl? Just mine? Forever?”

A smile spread out over her lips, even as she threw her head back to moan a “Yes.” I chuckled against her chest, starting to suck little bruises here and there, wanting to see her all marked up on me, when she interrupted my plans with a breathless comment, “You talk dirty.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” I chuckled against her lips, right as she started to convulse underneath me, clinging to my back for dear life. “You haven’t seen anything yet.”

Her nails scratched me as she found her bliss, and I wasn’t too far behind. As I started to pick up my pace, really milking her orgasm while searching for mine, it was her words that brought me to my ultimate release.

“C-cum inside, I want it inside of me.” I knew she wasn’t in any form of contraception, and I also knew this wasn’t the right time for either of us to become parents, but to say the idea didn’t arouse me was a lie. 

Flashes of her young body with my baby in it had my cock twitching, the risk of getting my perfect future right then too exciting. She’d be the perfect mother, I just knew it. And the fact that she would take the chance of becoming the mother of my child right then affected me so much that even after I emptied myself inside of her, I was still hard.

Her fingers played with my curls as I rested my head between her breasts, breathing her in, trying to catch my breath. “I can’t believe I get to sleep next to you tonight,” she said, melting my heart right then and there. “I hate it when you’re away.”

I did too. But I’d never need to be again.

#my fics #tom hardy smut #tom hardy #smut #mentor au #tom hardy x reader #tom hardy reader #tom hardy reader insert #tom hardy reader inserts #tom hardy fanfiction #tom hardy oneshot #tom hardy rpf #rpf #tom hardy imagine

[adrian-the-lonely-writer]

Transitions

A fluffy 'Dean WinchesterXTrans!Male' Reader one-shot where you had come out to Dean, and Dean decided he's going to do everything he can to support you.

“So,” Dean began. His heart was pounding. He rather be facing any number of ghosts and ghouls to avoid fucking this part up. Hell, he’d even take a few demons over this. Anything over these tense emotional moments. Still, he was glued to the bed, hand holding yours. He loved you. He wasn’t going to let anything get in the way of helping you.

“Y-yeah?” You stumbled over your words. You had no idea how your boyfriend was going to handle the news. Tears were threatening to fall over your cheeks as you kept your eyes glued to the floor.

Dean swallowed. Dammit, his brother mentioned something like this in the past. Why couldn’t he remember now? “Well in that case, I suppose we better get you some comfier clothes. C’mon.” He stood up, offering his hand to you. Looking up, you saw that same smile dance across his lips, the same smile you fell in love with. “Wouldn’t want my boyfriend to be uncomfortable.”

Your heart skipped a beat as you jumped into his arms, relief and love washing over you. Dean just chuckled, quietly as he shifted to wrap his arms around you, squeezing you against him. “Thanks Dean…Thank you so much.”

“Of course. You have a different name you like to be called now?”

“Y/N now- I uh, kinda picked it out when I realized I just-”

“Y/N is perfect babe.” His lips left a light little peck at your nose. “C’mon. Sammy’s with Bobby looking for another job, let’s take the day to get you feeling as good as possible, hm? I just had that great poker payout-”

“I thought that was for silver bullets-”

“Pshh. I can win another game or too.” Dean went to smile, but it quickly drooped into a frown. “Your clothes...do they make you feel-” He tried to find the right word.

“Dysphoric? Well I mean a bit. I didn’t exactly have time to choose great clothes when I ran off with you Dean.” Before you could even finish your sentence, Dean was digging through his duffle.

“I was going to drop them off somewhere, they feel a little small.” Dean grinned, poking his head back up. In his hands were an AC/DC shirt and an old pair of jeans. He even pulled out his spare hunting boots. “Might not be the most practical all the time, but we’ll get you some stuff today.”

You tried not to cry once again.

Few minutes later, you found yourself wrapped up in your boyfriend's clothes, in the passenger seat of the car. AC/DC rang out through the speakers. You couldn’t help but smile.

“You...really don’t mind Dean?”

“Mind? Why the hell would I mind?”

“Well you were into me as a-”

“I am into you, period.” Dean smiled a little. “Masculine, feminine, It makes no difference to me. You are still you. So, clothes we’re doing. Not half assed Walmart clothes either, we’re gonna get you some good hunting gear.” You couldn’t help but chuckle a little at that. “Masculine fake IDs from now on, easy enough. Anything else you need?”

“At the moment, I’m not sure...I kinda like what Sam does with his hair so I don’t think I’ll cut it off yet. It isn’t as long as his at the moment anyway.” You giggled at the scrunch in Dean’s nose at the mention of his brother.

“Cute guy with a ponytail never hurts either. Ah. Here’s the shop.”

“Dean this is a mall-”

“Yeah, sporting goods, including guns, bullets, as well as various clothing stores to get you what you need. Plus crowds to blend into. Malls are great Y/N.” He turned into the parking lot, picking a spot somewhere in the middle. “Plus, the impala doesn’t stick out too much here.”

Dean slipped out of his side, opening the door for you before you were even unbuckled. His calloused hand still felt tender as it grasped yours tightly, pulling you towards the store.

Your boyfriend was right after all. The crowds were seamless and the selection would be much greater.

“I’m thinking, we hit the sporting goods store, get some food and supplies. Take our time with it. Then just meet up with Sam and Bobby for the job, sound good Y/N?”

“Sounds perfect Dean.” Your smile was glued to your face as you leaned against his arm walking into the shop Dean had picked. “Is this where you got all your flannels and things?”

“Most of em, yeah. Why? You like that one?” He winked as he saw your cheeks turn a little pink. Sure, you loved the flannel. It made you feel more you, it also smelled like the man you loved more than anything.

“Well it’s nice and warm and-” You tripped over your words again. “Just really nice hunting clothes ya know? Like durable enough you have some protection, it’s also warm enough for nights but I can always open it ya know.”

“Great. So a couple flannels. Some jeans that won’t trip you up. Shirts.” Dean guided you to the clothing area of the store, whipping out his cellphone.

“Dean? Something the matter?” He doesn’t often look at his screen with that much concentration.

“Nope. I was just looking at a size chart.” He matched his screen to a couple of the tags. “These your colors?” He held out some forest green flannel and a black shirt.

“To start with, yeah! Although lighter colors are still nice. I don’t want anything thinking I’m your little brother if I match your style.”

“My style is functional and timeless. Plus, if I had a nickel for everyone who thought Sam and I should-” He scowled as you laughed. You couldn’t help but pick up those books when you saw them. Plus, as prank wars broke out it definitely gave you an upper hand.

“Alright, I concede your style is wonderful Dean.”

“Damn right it is.” He smiled a little. “But I get it, c’mon. Let’s walk around and see what catches your eye.”

The two of you scoured the store from top to bottom. Dean’s arms quickly became laden with fabric as you both approached the fitting rooms.

“Find everything you need sir, and-?” The guy in charge of the rooms spoke.

“Sir.” You introjected. Your heart rate spiked a little. Dean’s hand rested on your shoulder as he nodded to the cashier, as if confirming what you said.

“Of course, right this way. Here is your room, sir.” Without batting an eye the cashier escorted you back to try on your new wardrobe.

“Give 'em hell babe!” Dean called after you, taking his seat. He fiddled with his phone. Sam had finally convinced him to upgrade, and this one had a camera on it.

Quickly, pulse racing, you put on the first outfit of clothes, and slipped outside to model for Dean. Your nerves subsided when met with that goofy grin of his, and you couldn’t help but match it.

“You look amazing.”

“I feel amazing.”

“Wanna try more?” Dean snapped a photo. “That’s gonna be my new cell wallpaper.” You stuck your tongue out to him, a look he cheekily returned.

You went through this a few more times. Different mixed and matched outfits and hunting gear. Dean flirting with you every time you slipped into his sight. Soon you had a week's worth of clothes, with some extras to wear during a wash. Eventually you made it towards the food court, carrying the bags. You both went immediately to the burger stand and sat down.

“Fucck~” Dean’s eyes were closed in bliss. “I forgot how amazing these burgers were.”

“God we ate at gas stations so much I had forgotten food could be juicy.” You were devouring your burger as ravenous as Dean was. Oblivious to the look he was giving you.

Dean just smiled, chewing as he looked at you. It had only been a few months since you were traveling with him. Demon blooded kid like Sammy, you wanted to be able to help. Truthfully you were thankful they accepted.

Dean sometimes kicks himself at night for almost saying no. He had fallen for you, hard, the first time you rode in the back of the car. The way your eyes lit up as his own music started to play. The way you got along with Sam. He had fallen hard. You were perfect in his eyes now as you were then.

“Dean?...” Your voice was quiet, head against the window. After eating Dean had loaded you and your new things into the impala before starting to make your guy’s way to Bobby's place.

The excitement of the day had driven your eyelids to a close by this point. The soft rumblings of the engine were lulling you to sleep. Dean’s hand found yours once more, with a gentle squeeze.

“Yeah babe?”

“I love you Dean…”

“I love you too Y/N.” His words were the last things you heard before finally succumbing to sleep.

Dean drove on, hand never leaving yours. He had found the best boyfriend in the world, and he intended to keep things that way.

#supernatural #spn #dean winchester #dean x y/n #dean x reader #dean winchester x reader #fanfic #trans man #trans pride #trans reader #pride #dean winchester x transreader #transmasc #trans ftm #gay ftm #ftm

[loremaster4aot]

Armin Arlert *NSFW*

armin x reader

warning: NSFW, masturbation, wild sexual fantasy, sexting

modern AU

armin thinks about his girlfriend late at night and decides to text her

armin usually falls asleep right after he texts you a sweet good night. but ever since he closed his eyes he cant fall asleep and rolls from one side to other. he checks his mobile because he has early online class tomorrow and an hour passed since he tried to fall asleep. he has sunday midnight stress in him.

he even tried imagining scenarios with you, but this made him even more awake and his imagination havent satisfied him. he wants it to be more intimate. men are visual creations and he's no exception. he takes mobile into his large hand.

a text pops up on your homescreen. its from armin.

,,y/n, are you awake?"

,,yeah, is something wrong, armin?" you replied

this made you feel worried about him. armin doesnt usually text you after gn messages and he sleeps pretty early. this time he took time with reply. you've been wondering what was he doing during that time. has he texted you and then fell asleep?

sound notification made your heart stop a beat for a second.

,,this is so embarrassing, but i cant fall asleep and thinking about you made me more awake" he wrote

this brought butterflies into your stomach. it was so sweet of him to think about you. a smile appeared on your face. his reply made you confident and you wanted to know what exactly was he thinking about so you responded boldy.

,,what kind of things have you imagined ?" you wrote.

then you became anxious about what he might reply.

,,you beside me right now. i want you here" he replied in a few seconds

,,and...how much I'd love to touch your beautiful body" he sent another text

you felt your head heat up. it was incredibly red. if he'd look into your eyes right now, all of blood in your body would go into your head and made it the reddest thing in the world. is he horny?

you wanted to spice things up so you wrote:

,,where would you touch?"

this was risky to send even though you wanted to really know what he'd do to you if you'd lay by his side at the moment. where would his gentle cold hands with such slick fingers rest?

,,firstly your soft hair, then I'd slide to your neck and finally take your breasts to fit my large hands"

oh my god-you thought to yourself. is this the side of armin he'd been hiding deep inside himself for so long?

he began splashing you with perverted messenges:

,,y/n i want you to be wrapped around me"

,,please, you have to be only mine"

,,i want me to be buried deep inside you"

,,i wanna taste every inch of your sweet skin"

,,I'd lead your hand to my dick"

you went along with his messenges. it made tight knot in your stomach

,,armin, id do anything for you. even in bed"

armin was stroking his member in his hands and imagined you taking him into your warm mouth. he was faster and faster with every new message from you. finally he reached his climax and squirted his hands and looked grossly at it. it was too much. tripple the amount he usually releases. armin felt regret overwhelm his mind. he hated himself for this and felt awful, getting himself off while texting you dirty stuff.

,,y/n im sorry. so sorry" he wrote apology

,,im so disgusting and pathetic"

,,i dont deserve you. im twisted for doing this. forgive me. please dont hate me for this" armin begged

why is he apologizing? you loved every letter of his messages.

,,are you kidding? i love you, it makes me happy to help you please yourself "

,,now, would you mind showing me the mess you made?" you demanded

he send you a photo of his hand, full covered of his warm white cum

,,hot. but I'd be happier if you'd paint my body next time" you teased him

seeing his load on himself made tighter knot in your stomach. it all came from him. it's his. part of him you want to taste.

,,I'd clean your pretty fingers with my tongue if I'd be with you rn" you continued

armin blushed as his member started to get hard again. he texted you to come to his house immediately. you, of course, didn't decline.

#aot smut #snk smut #armin x reader #armin arlert #armin smut #aot #snk #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #armin x y/n #armin aot #aot boys #aot fanfiction #levi ackerman #eren yeager #jean kirschstein #jean kirstein #levi x y/n #armin attack on titan #aot headcanons #smut #snk x reader #snk fluff #snk anime #armin arlet icons #anime #anime / manga #levi attack on titan #eren jaeger

[darthmaulification]

(Idk why I thought this but I think it’s funny) Imagine din and reader going back to visit Karga for a job and reader is a apparent heart throb to most of the villagers (not that she knows) and like “hi mrs. Parker” Friday style, these women are see them walking by going “hi Reader~” with cara teasing of reader the whole time having to tell the ladies that reader is already taken with din.

A/N: you are my very first  request, so i decided to do a full, bonifide one shot! thank you so very much!! 🥰💕💕

oddly enough, din doesn’t show his bucket in this until the very end. 💀 it became really cara-centric for some reason. hope that’s okay! 😖

also, the trope of “everyone collectively loves person, but person is so utterly oblivious to it” is, without fail, one of the funniest bits any piece of media can pull lmao.

hope you enjoy! 💗

content: references of sex (kinda), saucy language, gender neutral!reader (my first time writing a gn reader 😲), reader being completely “no thoughts head empty” type of oblivious, cara just brutally teasing reader, soft!din makes an appearance!, cara is also kinda a bisexual icon???

word count: 1,775

“... What do you mean?” 

Cara looks at you strange. She searches your face for a few seconds longer, eyebrows furrowed, trying to see if you’re serious. 

“Are you fucking with me?” She deadpans evenly, and you tilt your head slightly, blinking. You slowly shake your head, raising an eyebrow.

“No...?” You drag out the word and Cara barks a sudden, loud laugh at your genuine confusion, tossing back her head as she does. She straightens up in her seat, still chuckling lightly, and picks up her glass of spotchka. Cara leans against the backrest, draping her free arm over it.

“You’re really not fucking with me, huh?” She mutters with a grin, bringing the glass to her lips and taking a low, long sip, her eyes not leaving yours. You frown, puzzled.

“Cara, I have no ide—"

“Everyone wants to fuck you.” Cara interrupts and it takes a moment for the blunt, vulgar words to register, but when they do you feel heat rise in your cheeks. You visibly recoil, sputtering out an answer.

“I— What are— There's no—” All Cara does as you fumble over your words, getting more and more red in the face, is shrug, an easy grin on her face.

“Yeah, everyone wants to get in your pants, can’t say I blame ‘em.” Her grin turns downright predatory and it gives you the final push to spit out a reply.

“WHAT?” The word comes out incredulous and far louder that you had meant, causing you to cringe at the sound of your voice reverberating in the cantina. People glance over at you and you give the crowd a sheepish, nervous smile. Thankfully, everyone turns back to whatever they were doing, no questions asked. Then your head whips back to Cara, whose all smug-looking, to shoot her a glare. Your face is positively burning, and you just know she can see it.

“Are you fucking with me?” You throw her own question back at her, but it falls flat because all it does is grow the shit-eating grin that’s plastered on Cara’s face. She shrugs, gesturing around lazily to the room at large.

“Jax, the Rodian over there, gives you puppy dog eyes, Kol and Zaltor— the Trandoshans, not the Togrutas, by the way— look at your ass every time they get, that pink Twi’lek gal over there practically fawns over you— think her names’ Numa or Nima or something, the Duros over there...”

Cara continues listing off more and more names, and with each one (some who you know and have spoken to) you feel yourself getting more and more flustered. You sink low in your chair, staring wide eyed into your spotchka, hands on your temples.

“Good Maker.” You groan, placing your hands over your face and slumping onto the table. Cara (finally) stops listing literally the entire population of the village and gazes at you quizzically. She tilts her head.

“Don’t like being the sex idol of the town?” She teases and you groan again, louder this time. You glare up at her through your fingers, still furiously blushing. Oh, how you wish Din was here to beat the snot out of Miss Dune...

“No. This is a nightmare.” You growl out, going back to digging your face into the table, hoping the sandstone would just swallow you whole. Before Cara can reply, a new voice sounds up.

“U-Um, hi.” You stiffen and turn your head to the side to see two Twi’leks, one taller than the other, standing next to the table. They seem a bit nervous, fidgeting with their lekku and rocking on their feet, but something tells you they’re here for... something. The moment you meet Cara’s gaze, your face blanches.

“Kill me now.”

“Hey, pretty ladies.”

You groan and Cara flirts at the exact same time, Cara’s strong voice unfortunately gaining the upper hand. Both Twi’lek giggle, and the taller of the two, the lavender skinned one, flutters her eyelashes. Even more unfortunately, you make eye contact with her. She flushes when you meet her gaze.

“O-Oh my— Stars, um hi!” She and her companion devolve into giggles again and you force yourself to sit up. Giving them a forced smile, you rest your hands under your chin and elbows on the table.

“Hello. What can I do for you?” You ask through gritted teeth, attempting to keep your strained voice relatively nice, while also fighting back both the blush that’s still on your cheeks and the urge to shoot Cara with your blaster. Thankfully, the Twi’leks have gotten over the apparent “meeting their idol” giggles, because now the shorter one places a dusty tan hand on the table and leans in. A bright, stunning smile spreads across her face, but something flirty burns in her eyes.

“Mm. Me and my sister here have just been seeing you around so often.” She says, voice a obviously practiced mix of playfully coy and feigning ignorance. You glance from her, to her lavender sister, then to Cara. And your luck must really be in the gutters, or maybe Cara just wants to torture you—or both— but the mercenary only offers you a grin, lifts her spotchka to her lips, and sips. Your hands curl into fists.

“Yeah, I—” 

“You’re talking to Mando’s squeeze, babes.” Cara interrupts yet again and all three sets of eyes land on her. Two of them moon-eyed and incredulous if not also disappointed, one of them so embarrassed that Carasynthia Dune, you are a dead woman—

“Really?” The lavender Twi'lek’s eyes are so blown wide you almost think they’d roll out of her head. Her sister looks just as awestruck, and both look a tad bit fearful. You go to speak, but Cara (you’re really starting to hate her) opens her mouth again and beats you to the cut.

“Mm hm. Y’all are hitting on the Mando’s sweetheart. Pretty bold, honestly, he’s real protective over this one.” The blush you put all your hard work into smothering returns full force at Cara’s words, and the Twi’leks start looking a bit flustered themselves, though for another reason.

“So sorry!” The lavender one breaks first and goes running off to a Rodian and Zabrak sitting at a far table. She leans in close, seeming to whisper something into their ears, and suddenly all three of them are looking at you with a strange mix of disappointment, lust, and fear. You hastily look away and hide your face behind your hand.

“Aw. Shame.” The tan Twi’lek purses her lips, pushing herself off the table, and you begrudgingly force yourself to look at her. She gives you that stunning smile again and winks.

“You know I’m here for you.” She says and sashays off to where her sister is. Across the room, she gives you another wink and flutters her fingers. Pretty sure that all your bloods’ in your face, you turn to Cara, slowly.

“Cara.” You say her name lowly, looking her dead in the eye. She’s grinning, and blows a lock of her hair out of her face. She feigns an unassuming, innocent look, but both you and her know better.

“Yeah?” She’s walking on thin ice and she knows it, but you also know she’s never been afraid of risk.

“I’m going to kill you.” You say, coming across as deadly serious as you possibly can. Cara’s grin widens, her eyes twinkling, and she downs the last of her spotchka.

“I know,” She starts and she shrugs, “But you know I couldn’t resist.”

You want to reach over and smack her a good one, but a voice alerts you to a certain someone at your side.

“Hey.” Din’s low, modulated voice gentle pulls your attention to him and you turn your head to look up at your silver-clad lover. Even with the dark T-visor, you know exactly where to look to find those soft, doe eyes beneath it. A small smile creeps across your face.

“Hey.” You reply and he offers a hand to you, which you gladly accept. Like always, his hand is large and warm and strong, and it makes you feel completely at peace. Din helps you up to your feet, settling you close, but not too close, to his side. 

“I got the next few pucks, and the kid’s already in the Crest, so we’re ready to head out...” Din trails off and tilts his head, and you can feel his curious gaze roam your face. 

“Your face is... pretty flushed. Are you feeling okay?” He asks it so gently and sweetly, his gloved hand still holding yours, that it’s almost enough to make you forget why your all disheveled in the first place. Letting out a forced, somewhat breathy laugh, you pull your hand away to cross your arms over your chest.

“Um, yeah, yeah— I’m good.” You assure him, but Din knows you so he turns his attention on Cara, whose sprawl in her seat, looking like a satisfied loth cat.

“What did you do?” He asks, keeping his voice neutral, but there’s a hint of that good ol’ Din Protectiveness seeping in too. Part of you celebrates that Din’s finally here to beat up Cara, but all the other parts of you just want to hop on back the Razor Crest and get the Hell out of here. Cara lazily raises her hands in mock surrender, tilting her head into her shoulder.

“Just playing, that’s all.” She replies, eying your spotchka from across the table. She and Din are in some type of staring match even as she reaches and snags your drink. You don’t care enough to protest. Din stares at Cara for a few seconds longer before he shifts on his feet and turns back to you.

“Ready to go, cyare?” His voice is like warm like sunshine, and it makes your entire being light up. You nod and smile, uncrossing your arms to grab his hand. His thick fingers close around yours, encasing your hand in his.

“Let’s get the fuck out of here.” You reply as you both start walking, tethered to one another by the most sacred link you can while in public. Din and you walk side by side, a Mandalorian and his beloved, through the cantina and out the door.

Cara watches you leave, then looks around at all the inhabitants of the cantina who had also watched you and the Mando leave hand-in-hand. She nearly laughs at all the looks of disappointment. You really were the village heart throb.

And as Cara downs the last of her (your) spotchka, she ponders,

Dammit. Wish it was me instead of Mando.

#star wars #star wars din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #cara dune #anon #anon ask #request

[dreamerstreamer]

Never Meant To Be Yours

Pairing: Wilbur Soot x gn!reader

Summary: [Dream SMP!AU] Wilbur Soot’s heart may belong to you, but yours? Well...

Warnings: some cursing (hi, Tommy) + one scene with slight violence 

Word Count: 3.5k

A/N: i realized that i hadn’t written a story that was strictly just angst, so... ta-da! this story takes place during the betrayal of l’manberg. inspired by both the events of the smp and also heathers: the musical. remember folks: pog through the pain <3

The campfire crackled and popped as Wilbur tossed another stick into the roaring flames, the embers leaping up and soaring into the starry night sky. His eyebrow twitched in annoyance as Tommy opened his mouth again.

“I’m fucking telling you, Wilbur. Just let me sharpen some sticks and I can win this war for L’Ma—”

Wilbur sighed, reaching over to rip the two branches from Tommy’s hands. “Tommy, if you pick up another set of sticks one more time, I will throw your discs into the fire.”

Tommy gasped, absolutely appalled that he would even suggest it. “Big man, you wouldn’t fucking dare—”

“No,” Tubbo said, smiling as he threw some more kindle into the fire, “I’m pretty sure he would.”

“Oh, he definitely would,” Fundy confirmed, his tail swishing this way and that as he looked on in amusement.

Tommy frowned, snatching another stick from the firewood pile and turning to glare at Wilbur from where he sat on his log. “Fucking fight me for them, you beanie bitch.”

Wilbur stared back, unimpressed and his patience wearing thin. “Tommy,” he said, “I’m not doing this, again.”

“Oh? Are you scared of my sharpness 1000 sti—”

Without even an ounce of hesitation, Wilbur grabbed Tommy by his arms and hoisted him into the air, his feet dangling dangerously close to the campfire. Fundy hooted as Tommy let out a piercing scream, Tubbo watching with wide eyes and a grin on his face as the flames licked at the soles of his shoes. “I swear to fucking god, Tommy,” Wilbur nearly shouted, “I am going to drop you into the fi—”

“You lot seem like you’re having fun.”

Wilbur froze, Tommy practically melting in his arms in relief. “Thank the lord, I’m saved,” he muttered.

You walked over to the group with a small wave and a bashful grin. In an instant, Wilbur had released Tommy, dropping him back onto the log as he walked over to you. The irritation seeped out of his bones as he took in the sight of your face, your eyes glowing in the golden light of the campfire.

“You’re finally here,” he said, leaning over to press a quick peck to your cheek before sitting once more.

You giggled, settling into the space next to him. “Hi.”

Beside you, Tommy made a gagging noise. “Jesus Christ, you guys are actually fucking gross. I would never do some shit like that.”

You gave him a quizzical look. “But Tommy,” you pointed out, “I thought you loved women. Don’t you want to date one, one day?”

“I do love women!” Tommy confirmed. “And I respect them! But you know me, [Y/N].” He patted his chest, smirking with pride. “I’m married to the grind.”

You tilted your head at him, bemused. “Are you, now?”

He nodded with full confidence. “Of course I am!”

“And you didn’t invite me to the wedding?”

Tommy shot you a condescending look. “The grind and I have been married far longer than you and Wilbur have even been together—hell, I’d say we’re a better fucking couple than you two!”

You feigned a gasp and turned to your lover with a dramatic pout. “Hey, Will? Do you hear that? Tommy says his marriage to the grind is better than our relationship.”

Wilbur paused for a moment, blinking, then shrugged. “Well, that’s an easy fix.”

Confusion flashed across Tommy’s face. “How?”

Wilbur stood up and turned to look at you, a serious expression crossing his face. “I suppose we’ll just have to get married.”

You felt your jaw drop, a wave of shock running through you as Tommy sputtered, “Pfft—what the fuck?”

Taking a deep breath, you sighed, rubbing your temples. “Will,” you said, “getting married in the middle of a war doesn’t exactly sound like the best idea you’ve had.”

“But Wilbur never has good ide—”

“Well,” Wilbur said, cutting Tommy off, “how else are we going to beat Tommy and the grind?”

You cocked a brow at him. “Are you implying that are relationship isn’t already stronger than Tommy’s with the grind? That we have to prove it?”

Now it was Wilbur’s turn to sputter. “No, uh, I’m just, um—”

“Will,” you said again, “you realize you have a son that we both care for, right?”

Wilbur paused. “Oh. Right.”

You could see Fundy groan from the other side of the campfire, hanging his head in his hands. “Jeez, thanks, dad.”

Wilbur flashed his son a bright grin. “You’re welcome, son.” He whirled, triumphantly pointing at Tommy’s face. “See? Do you and the grind have a physical representation of your love in the form of another living being?”

Tommy’s face contorted in disgust. “Wilbur, what the fuck, no. I’m a fucking minor.”

The smile dropped from Wilbur’s face like a dead fly. “Oh. Right.”

Tubbo let out a whistle, raising his fist in the air. “Aaand, scene! That’s a point for Tommy!” He shook his head apologetically at the general. “Sorry, Wilbur, but you lose.”

Wilbur looked offended. “How did I lose? [Y/N] and I have a Fundy!”

Tubbo’s expression shifted to something more serious. “Didn’t you know that I’m a lawyer, Wilbur? You don’t mess with the law.”

Fundy let out another groan as Tommy howled in delight. “Oh, no.”

“Big Law is back!”

It didn’t take long for the bickering to start up again, and you found yourself zoning out, simply smiling and nodding every once in a while. A lone crow squawked in the trees above you, and you cast your gaze up at the night sky, watching as the campfire sparks danced and faded into the shadows above. Something stirred deep within your chest. 

It really was a lovely night, and you were surrounded by some lovely people, even if they were rather chaotic. With the campfire keeping you warm and their peals of laughter tugging at your lips, you almost felt sad.

Only a few more days remained of this idyllic life. Just a few days more until—

“[Y/N]? Are you okay?”

Wilbur’s worried voice drew you out of your thoughts and you turned to face him, plastering a small smile to your face. “Yep! Just thinking.”

He leaned down to peer closer at you, his gaze scanning your face. “What about?”

You averted your eyes from his, your cheeks dancing with warmth. “About you.”

He grinned and pulled you into his chest, ignoring the way Tommy pretended to choke at the sight. You giggled, your hands wrapped around Wilbur’s arm in return as he held you close.

High above you, the stars winked down at you from the pitch black sky, waiting and watching to see what came next.

Wilbur sighed, staring down at the map on his desk.

Just how was he going to stage an attack on a nation as large as the Dream SMP? Every opening would have been accounted for, and Dream was not a foe to be taken lightly. Even if all of them came in, bows blazing and swords drawn, Dream was still very much capable of taking them on, even by himself. That, he knew, and that was what weighed him down.

He slumped over, dragging a hand over his face. What in the world was he going to do?

A knock sounded at his door, startling him out of his thoughts.

“Knock knock,” you greeted, leaning against the doorframe with a smile. “You doing alright in there?”

Wilbur offered you a tired smile. “Not really, if I’m being honest.”

You stepped inside, slipping into the seat next to his. “What’s going on? Tell me.”

He sighed. “It—It’s just that the odds are so incredibly stacked against us.” His eyes were sad as he stared blankly down at the parchment. “It makes me wonder, is freedom even attainable, or is it just another one of my silly pipe dreams?”

You frowned, reaching over to stroke his face with the back of your hand. “Freedom is more than just a dream, Will. You know that.” You squeezed his shoulder. “Fundy is living proof of that. Your son is living proof of that. He was born in these walls, remember?” Your voice dropped to a whisper, and it sent a shiver down his spine. “He was born free.”

You pulled away from him, sending him a sugary grin. “We can become free, Will. I know you can do it. You’re not alone. You have me. You have us.”

His smiled crookedly at you. “Even Tommy?”

The look in your eyes was kind as you giggled. “Yes, even Tommy. I’m sure of it. Why else would you have made him your right hand man?”

He chuckled, turning his attention away from the map and onto you. “You’re right. You always know how to make me feel better, [Y/N].”

You offered him a small smile. “I try my best.”

The two of you set into a comfortable silence for a moment or two with you watching Wilbur strategically move pieces across the map while he jotted down notes on a slip of paper. It was only after a few minutes had passed when you spoke up once more.

“Hey,” you said softly, reaching over his ink well to slip your hand in his, “I want to show you something that’ll make you feel even better.”

He raised an eyebrow at you, his hand freezing on its quill. “Oh?”

You nodded, smiling sweetly at him. “I’ve been working on it for a little while, and I really think it’ll help us win that freedom of ours.”

He smiled at you, his gaze fond as he stood, setting his quill on the table. “Let me gather the men and I’ll be right there.”

It only took him a few minutes for him to rally everyone together, although he did have to silence Tommy when he let loose a string of curses yelling about his dedication to the grind. In practically no time, the whole battalion stood in front of you, eager to see what you had in store.

“Alright,” Wilbur said, bowing towards you, “lead the way.”

You grinned, jokingly curtsying back before turning on you heel, a skip lining your step as you strode toward a small tree sitting near the edge of the walls. “If you come down here,” you began, sliding down the side of the hill to point behind the tree, “you’ll see that there’s actually a small entranceway here.”

Wilbur’s eyes widened in surprise. There really was a hole in the hill dug out just here. He wondered just when you made it. “How the fuck did you keep this hidden from us?” Tommy muttered, squinting as you led them inside. “You didn’t even try to hide the fucking door.”

You shrugged, still strolling comfortably. “It was pretty out of the way and it faces the wall itself, so you weren’t likely to spot it, anyways. I didn’t really think it was necessary.”

The walls were dark and dank, lit up only be the occasional torch, but even then it was still dim. “This is a long tunnel,” Tubbo murmured after they had been walking for a minute or two, his head swiveling this way and that as he took in his surroundings.

You laughed. “Well, this place was pretty well-hidden, if I do say so myself.” Suddenly, you stopped, turning to look at the rest of the group. “Well, lads, here it is.”

You stepped in and to the side, and Wilbur gasped.

Lying just within the hill was a grand room. Every surface was made of smooth, polished, black bricks, and pale blue lanterns hung from each corner of the room, emitting a faint light that painted the room in an enchanting glow. Chests lined the walls, and in the center of the room sat a single button atop a panel.

Wilbur was floored—he had no idea when you had built all this.

“What is this place?” Fundy asked, his dark eyes wide with awe.

You hummed, tapping a finger on your chin as you strode to the middle of the room. “Well, I guess you could call it a secret base, but I’ve been calling it the final control room.” Something glinted in your eyes. “I spent a lot of time gathering resources and forging weaponry that we can use to fight.” You pointed at each labelled box with delight. “Look—you each have your own chest!”

Wilbur felt his heart swell with pride. Just when he didn’t think you could be any more perfect, you just had to shatter his expectations.

Everyone split apart, each rushing toward their respective chest with anticipation thrumming in their fingertips. Wilbur grinned as he reached his, unlatching the clasp on the front and flipping the lid open to reveal... nothing.

There wasn’t anything in the chest.

Uneasiness seeped into his stomach.

“[Y/N],” he said slowly, turning to look at you, “these chests are empty.”

You still stood in the center of the room, sending him that same sweet smile you always did.

“I know,” you said, lifting your hand to hover over the singular button lying on the control panel.

Something like terror struck his heart.

“[Y/N]?” he whispered.

It was only then that he noticed how cold your eyes were.

“It was never meant to be.”

What came next happened so quickly that Wilbur almost didn’t process it. He watched as your hand slammed down on the button, and a hole in the wall opened up to reveal the Dream SMP, their swords unsheathed and armour polished to shining. Screams rang out all around him, echoing in the tiny chamber of the so-called final control room. He could only watch in horror as his men were slaughtered at his side until a sword pierced his chest as well.

With a pained gasp, he looked up to you as he fell back, disbelief and the pure, utter pain of betrayal sinking into his veins while he coughed for air.

You still wore that saccharine smile of yours, the one he had fallen for long, long ago. Something menacing shone in your eyes.

He wondered how you could still be smiling at a time like this as his world went dark.

Wilbur awoke with a gasp, lurching forward with wide eyes. Panting, his hand flew to his chest, grasping at where he was just stabbed—or had been stabbed. His shoulders sank in relief as his fingertips met unmarred skin and the softness of his shirt, a sigh escaping his lips.

Coming back after death never really got any easier after the first time. He could only wonder what Tommy and Tubbo were going through—they were so young.

“Oh, you’re awake.”

Wilbur’s head shot to the side, his eyes briefly noting the fact that he was indeed lying on the bed in his room. On the opposite side of the room, you sat on a wooden chair, a book clutched between your fingertips. Something warm flitted through his chest as his eyes met yours, and he almost felt glad to see you.

Almost.

“What are you doing here?” he spat, a cruelty he had never felt for you before brewing within his gut. “Why are you even here?”

You blinked innocently at him, shutting the book in your hands and setting it on the table next to you. It was the declaration of independence, he noted with disgust. He felt sick knowing that you held it in yours hands, that you even signed it at all.

“I’m keeping you company,” you said casually, as if nothing had happened at all, as if you hadn’t just gotten him killed. “I didn’t want you to be lonely.”

Rage ripped through him, roaring through him like a wildfire. With shoulders shaking with agony, he tore the sheets from off his legs. “‘Didn’t want me to be lonely’?” he parroted mockingly as he stood to his full height. His glare was as cold as ice. “Is this some sick joke to you?”

You tilted your head at him, your mouth remaining a straight line—hard and firm. “Not particularly, no.”

That was when it hit him—when everything came crashing into him all at once.

You had sold them out.

You had abandoned them.

Did you mean anything you ever said to him? Did you ever really love him? Were your kisses ever real? Did his love really mean nothing to you? 

“[Y/N],” he breathed, horror wracking his every word, “what have you done?”

You stared at him, your expression blank and unreadable—an impenetrable wall standing between him and your psyche. He hated it. He hated how unreadable you were in this moment, and his anger older burned brighter.

“What were you thinking?” he shouted, his voice growing louder and louder. He ran a hand through his dishevelled hair, pushing it away from his soot-stained face. “We were going to get married. We—we were going to start a new life together. With Tommy, and Tubbo. Niki. Fundy, my son.” His eyes flashed. “Our son. Whatever happened to that?”

He sank to his knees, suddenly feeling very tired. The fire burned out, and an indescribable sense of sadness flowed in instead, flooding every inch of his being. He felt his eyes begin to water as you simply stared down at him, unfeeling and harsh. His voice cracked.

“[Y/N], why?”

There was no denying what you had done. He had seen it with his own two eyes, had watched a wicked glint creep into your gaze as you pressed the button and vanished.

You were a traitor, through and through, yet he still could not fathom why.

Suddenly, you took a stood, taking a slow and deliberate step toward him. Wilbur’s breath hitched in his throat as he saw you draw closer and closer, his heart pounding in his ears. Even after all that you’d done, after you’d betrayed him, his heart still yearned for you—still ached for you.

Just a step before you reached him, you stopped, crouching down to be level with him. For a moment, you simply stared at him with those eyes—those eyes he loved so, so much. Then, you opened your mouth.

“Wilbur,” you murmured, soft enough only for him to hear. “Oh, my darling, lovely Wilbur.”

Your voice was sickly sweet, dripping like honey that stuck to the roof of his mouth. He swallowed, the tiniest flicker of hope igniting in his heart. Perhaps this was all just some big misunderstanding, some prank that you were pulling on him—you always did love your mischief.

You smiled at him, the glimmer in your eyes wicked and unkind as you stood up. The sun hung just behind you in the sky, framing your face in a heavenly glow.

In another life, you would have looked like an angel.

“I was never meant to be yours.”

His heart shattered.

The tears were now freely streaming down his cheeks, running down like tiny rivers. He half-hoped that he would drown in them, that he would never have to see your beautifully wretched face again for as long as he lived.

Bending over, you pressed a soft kiss to his forehead, pulling away just a second later after gently patting his head. The spot where your lips met his skin burned, and he hated himself for wishing you would stay.

You strode over to the door, swinging it open with one last glance over your shoulder and an empty half-smile. “Goodbye, Will.”

The door closed. Wilbur stared at the solid oak wood, feeling an abyss open up inside him.

Gone—you were gone.

And he was left alone.

So much for getting married.

“Was it worth it?”

You stopped swinging your legs from the gold throne you sat upon and cast a glance up at Dream, his green eyes boring into you from where he was perched on the chandelier. How he got up there, you still had no idea.

“Was what worth it?” you asked, examining a diamond between your fingers.

He cocked his head at you, gesturing to the castle surrounding the two of you. “This life. Your new title. You gave up so much for them, after all.” He began counting off on his fingers, his lips quirking. “You faked a relationship with Wilbur, pretended to love his son, befriended that brat, Tommy, and then blew it all to smithereens for the crown on your head.”

His gaze flickered back to yours. “Well?” he said again. “Was it worth it?”

You looked at him for a long moment, your expression pensive.

You thought of soft, brown curls tickling against your face as you awoke on the couch. You thought of fluttering laughter and bashful giggles. You thought of a pearly white grin flashing at you from the other side of the campfire. You thought of an old acoustic guitar that was almost always just a little out of tune. You thought of gentle kisses pressed to hands, cheeks, necks, and mouths. 

You thought of Wilbur Soot.

And you smiled and felt nothing.

“Yes.”

#mcyt #dream mcyt #mcyt fanfiction #mcyt x reader #mcyt fandom #mcyt imagine #mcyt scenario #mcyt angst #mcyt fluff #mcyt fanfic #wilbur soot #wilbur #wilbur dream smp #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur x reader #wilbur soot imagine #wilbur soot scenario #dreamwastaken #dream #dream team #dreamwastaken x reader #dream smp #georgenotfound #sapnap #georgenotfound x reader #sapnap x reader #wilbur soot angst #wilbur soot fluff