#he NEEDS his fashion to express himself okay?

[narrans]

My Borrowed Son | 27 | Strangers Like Me

Chapter Twenty-Seven | Strangers Like Me

Parker was in awe of the place he saw. This place was so strange and yet he knew it was a house. An aroma that smelled sweet and familiar lingered in the air and only got stronger as the four of them approached the structure.

Parker’s mind was completely numb. No part of him felt real. He felt like a helium balloon, floating along and merely existing. Every sense was taking in information, but processing it was another story.

As they approached, Parker noticed two other small children who were smaller and younger than him outside of the structure. It sounded like the two of them were talking – well, one was talking, and the other was babbling simple phrases.

It wasn’t until they were a few feet away that they instinctively stopped and turned toward the approaching group. The oldest of the two’s eyes were wide and he quickly took the younger by the hand and guided her inside. There was some kind of commotion inside and, a few seconds later, two more adults, one man and one woman who looked a little older than the man they walked outside of the structure. Their expressions told Parker everything he needed to know about seeing him with the others.

They were apprehensive, completely uneasy, and shocked into silence at seeing him.

Parker’s step faltered and he stopped dead in his tracks. He never considered himself a shy person, but too much had happened all at once and was making him retreat into himself. His body trembled as he pulled the cloak given to him by the man further over his shoulders.

This made the man stop and glance over at Parker.

“You’re alright. It’s going to be okay, kid,” said the man. The same instinct Parker had experienced all his life that raised when he sensed his mom coming or when he fell from a great distance wasn’t giving him any red flags. Usually, the hair would raise on the back of his neck or something inside him would be screaming to run away.

That was not the case here.

In fact, there was something homey about what was happening.

It was familiar.

Parker swallowed, his throat feeling like sandpaper from getting sick earlier, and followed behind the man.

The woman ushered the other two teens into the home, giving Kit a harsh stare, before her features softened as she looked back to Parker. The man did the same thing as Finnick and Kit passed, saying something along the lines of, “We’ll talk about this later,” as Kit crossed the threshold.

The woman exhaled slowly as though to calm herself down before stepping forward toward Parker. The young teen noticed she had a prosthetic leg, which seemed unfathomable. How could she have a prosthetic leg and not be human? How did she get the supplies for it? It looked 3D printed after all.

“Parker, sweetie, come on inside. I’m sure you have some questions,” said the woman as she turned on her heel and vanished inside the house. The man with her followed shortly behind after giving the man who helped Parker a stern look.

Parker wasn’t sure why, but he got the impression that there was something uneasy and unspoken between the group and the stranger. Regardless, Parker drifted along through the door and into the home. He immediately noticed so many odds and ends that were hung from the walls.

The items ranged from ones he actually used to help build his own space to creative alternatives for everyday items. Things like thumbtacks in the walls for coats and bags and twist ties for hinges on the doors. There was a cork in the corner with a paperclip in the back which made the thing look like a stool or chair and this was just the hallway.

The number of things in the kitchen and living area alone that looked like they had been fashioned out of the most obscure items and turned out okay. One of the things Parker noticed was a bundle of blankets in the corner that looked like it had been made from yarn. There were trinkets hanging in the air and cut paper dolls and origami creations that looked to be made from old gum wrappers.

The idea of using trash to decorate was an odd one to Parker, but the actual execution looked rather enchanting and homey. This was just one of so many things all around that he recognized for their actual use but appreciated its reused purpose.

What on earth is happening? This place is fascinating. They reuse everyday items to make new things and use them for something else entirely. That matchbox is a cabinet and drawers. This other one is a sofa.

Parker absentmindedly stepped into the kitchen and suddenly found himself sitting at the kitchen table with a thimble full of something that smelled like tea in front of him. The man who was in the house was sitting at the head of a table made of cards while the woman continued to bustle about the kitchen, snagging more “cups” of tea for everyone else.

Finnick, the older teen, sat next to his father at a diagonal from Parker while the girl, Kit, leaned against the door facing with her arms crossed as tightly as a twisty pretzel. The other two were in the living area. It was clear the older one was meant to watch over the youngest but was failing miserably because every few seconds the youngest managed to charge into the kitchen in pursuit of her mother.

The other man stayed leaned up against the kitchen counter as the woman sat down across from Parker. With her lack of movement, everything finally fell still in the house.

The tension was tangible, but Parker had no idea how to even begin. What did he ask? Did he have the right to leave? Was he being kept here? Were all of these people delusional and calling themselves “Borrowers?” Or was that actually what they were?

Was that what he was?

“Well, Parker, I’m sure you have a lot of questions. You can take your time if you’d like. We’re happy to answer anything,” said the woman. “I… suppose introductions are in order. I’m Mira, and this is my husband Toulouse. Our eldest is Finnick and our daughter, whom I’ve been told you met last night, is Sprokit. Our other son is Reed and our youngest is Dove. We’ve been living here for many years and, well… hearing about your arrival certainly sparked some discussion.”

Parker looked at the man in the corner. He pulled the cloak further over his shoulders and swallowed again. The smell of the tea was appealing, but Parker’s insides felt like they could turn for the worst at any moment.

“And… him?”

The man glanced up at Parker, keeping his arms folded loosely, before sighing heftily.

“Kers. I moved here with you and your mom.”

Parker recited the names a few times in his mind, but he knew they wouldn’t stick. He felt like his mind was frozen in time back when he first entered the walls, and it would take nothing short of an ice chisel to get information through his brain at the moment.

“R-right…”

“Parker, do…”

“You… said you’ve known me for a while, but what does that mean?” Parker asked, interrupting Finnick as he began speaking. Parker wanted desperately for them to stay quiet and let him process the information in front of him, but that was a pipe dream at this point. It was obvious they wanted to help and wouldn’t relent until they thought he was satisfied with their answers.

They looked over at Kers, as did Parker, and waited for the answer.

“I said it before, I was hidden. I found your home a little over four years ago and decided to live there and make sure you were okay,” said Kers. He sounded exhausted, but truthful.

But it still didn’t make sense to Parker.

“W-what? What does that even mean? Okay? Okay from what?” Parker heard Kit scoff before she piped up from her spot in the doorway.

“Oh, please,” she said exasperatedly. “Okay from the human. He was making sure you were safe from the human.”

“Sprokit!” scolded Toulouse firmly, making Parker jump slightly. Kit rolled her eyes and rolled her lips together to form a thin line on her face. The father sighed and nodded. “She means the woman you call ‘mom’.”

The woman I call “mom?”

Those words echoed hollowly in Parker’s mind. It made him bristle that these people were calling his mom “the woman,” reducing everything she did for him all of his life to two simple words that didn’t do her justice.

It also felt like a punch in the gut. “The woman” he knew as his mom wasn’t actually that thing. A mom was a woman who gave birth to you. A mom wouldn’t lie to you. A mom helped and protected as well as provided for you. A mom loved you.

Parker felt his insides swirl again and he coughed a little as his body lurched. Thankfully, nothing came up, but it did make Parker feel sicker by the second.

“B…but…”

“Parker, it’s okay. I’m sorry. We’re just not used to talking to a Borrower who has been seen and talked to a human before. Old habits die hard,” apologized Mira as she leaned forward onto the table and smiled while catching Parker’s eye.

That word is what helped snap Parker out of his stupor.

Now feeling completely detached, the questions started coming in clearer for Parker. Though still numb and waiting for something to break through his frozen mind, Parker’s questions started manifesting, and he wasn’t about to let them slip away.

“That… word… Borrower… what is it?” asked Parker. Sympathetic glances flashed from every set of eyes to one another before turning back to Parker. Mira looked visibly shaken and upset, but she still mustered a smile for the young teen.

“Well, that’s what we are. We’re Borrowers. We borrow things that humans won’t miss in order to survive. Little things like sugar, bread, pins, cloth, ribbons, and anything else we might find useful,” Mira replied.

“We usually don’t see other Borrowers often, but we all live by a code in order to keep ourselves safe,” Finnick chimed in as he too leaned forward in his chair. “It’s rare for so many Borrowers to be living together under the same roof since it’s more likely a human will notice things going missing.”

“What about those two who come to visit?” interjected Reed as he began dragging the youngest, Dove, back to the living room. “They said they come from a massive group.”

“Rey and Hero probably live in that abandoned house down by the creek. I can’t imagine they live in a human’s house, especially with a big group. You saw their clothes. Definitely Outies,” dismissed Finnick.

“Outies?” echoed Parker. Toulouse nodded.

“Yes, Borrowers are usually ‘Innies’ or ‘Outies,’ meaning where they live; either inside a house or outside in the wilds,” replied the father of four.

Parker had to physically rest his head on the table to keep from vomiting again. The entire room as spinning faster and faster, making the teen see stars, and his action quieted them for a minute while he regained his bearings.

When he did, he dared to take a sip of the tea Mira gave him just to quench his parched throat. It was soothing and made him feel a little less sick. The sweetness definitely helped add to the taste too.

“So… y-you… you’re saying… there are just… massive groups? Or… rather… small clusters of groups of B… Bor-row…” Parker couldn’t get the word out, but his meaning was understood.

“Yes, that’s correct,” replied Toulouse.

“Th-then… why haven’t I heard of you? Why isn’t it on the internet? W-why… h-how does n-no one know about you?” asked Parker.

“About us you mean,” grumbled Kit. Mira snapped her fingers harshly at her daughter and gave her a warning stare before turning back to Parker. The palpable tension dissipated after a few moments in intense silence, followed by the eldest son clearing his throat.

“Because of the rules,” Finnick replied. Parker’s blank expression prompted further explanation. This threw Parker for a loop.

“Rule? There are… rules?” Parker asked aloud unintentionally.

“Yes, quite a few of them. There are three we Borrowers generally abide by in order to keep ourselves safe.” The way Toulouse explained reminded Parker of how his mom would explain things to him. It was slow and simple, broken into multiple parts to make it easier for him to process the information.

“The first rule is to never be seen by a human because it is dangerous for you and for all of Borrower kind. The second rule flows into the first which is you must move if you think you’ve been seen. It’s for your protection, even if you weren’t seen. The last rule is to never talk to humans. If they know we’re sentient, they’ll only try and get answers out of us.”

Parker listened to the father’s explanation and something in his mind flashed. It was quick, like a lightbulb memory, but he remembered hearing those rules once before, along with the reason why. Slowly, Parker said, “Because… they’ll treat you like a… pet….”

The inquisitive glances the family members gave one another told Parker he had said something correctly.

“That’s right,” said Reed as he popped back into the kitchen to retrieve Dove once again. “You’ll get thrown in a cage and they’ll throw away the key. You’ll never be seen or heard from again, and that’ll be the exposure of Borrower kind.” Parker twisted around in the chair and glanced at the younger kid as he flashed a smile and, snagging his little sister under the armpits, hoisted her up and waddled back to the living room.

Parker’s vision blackened around the edges, and he once again needed to rest his head on the table. A cold sweat covered his body. Regret filled him as he realized he was probably soaking Kers’ cloak through with his perspiration. The family of Borrowers waited patiently for Parker’s recovery as they awaited his next question.

But his mind was running wild.

Everything and nothing made sense.

This had to be a dream, right?

Parker pinched himself under the table hard along the outside of his thigh, but the trick didn’t work, and he was met with five pairs of eyes staring at him expectantly. One thought was something he clung to, however, and he hoped in this moment to possibly disprove everything they just said.

“But… my mom… she said it was a genetic condition. She said I have Parvi Homunculi Syndrome. It’s just a rare condition. Are… you sure you don’t just have that?” Mira must’ve heard the desperation in Parker’s voice because her features filled once again sympathetically.

“I… I know how weird it must sound,” said Mira. She brushed her hair to the side and sighed before clasping her hands together and resting them on the table. “But we’re Borrowers. We’re different than humans for a number of different reasons, despite how similar we might look.”

“Differences?” Parker barely uttered the word, fearing the sip of tea he just had was going to churn his insides and reappear.

“Yeah, differences. We have instincts that humans don’t have. Our vision is better in the dark. We have great balance and land on our feet; well, most of the time,” Finnick stated.

“Tell us, Parker, have you ever experiences anything like that? Sensing something before it happened? Feeling the tremors in the ground as a human walks around when they’re rooms away? Finding curious places to hide? Or feeling the need to hide when you sense something coming?” asked Toulouse. “Haven’t you ever fallen from up high and landed safely on the ground? The instinct or need to reuse or create? What about walking around here in the walls? Didn’t you notice how well you could see in such low light?”

His scenarios made Parker’s blood run cold.

Every single one of those things he mentioned was something Parker had experienced. He had always attributed those things to his condition.

So… my condition… it’s a lie?

Well… not a lie…

I do have a condition….

I’m a Borrower.

Everything they’re saying makes sense. How would they know about everything if they hadn’t experienced it themselves? They don’t know about my climbing and falling habits. They don’t know about the things I’ve invented. They couldn’t have known about my senses unless they had it too.

Mira’s face softened and she quickly pushed herself to her feet and retrieved a single square of toilet paper, tearing off a side and gently pushing it over toward Parker. It was only now he realized warm, salty tears were soaking his face. The tears glided down his cheeks and puddled at his chin before dripping onto his shirt.

His entire body shook like a leaf in a windstorm as he numbly snagged the piece of toilet paper and hid his face away. Breathing was a chore, and the few breaths he sucked in wracked his body with sobs.

Over and over, he asked himself why?

Why him?

Why was this happening?

How many Borrowers were out there? Surely there had to be some reference to them specifically out there in the world.

How could an entire race of people just be completely unnoticed like this family?

The thoughts that followed only made Parker’s sobs double him over.

How long had his mom known about him and not said anything?

Why was he just finding all of this out now?

Why had his mom lied to him?

Didn’t she love him?

Why didn’t she just tell him the truth?

Parker wasn’t sure how long he stayed hunched over smashing the now soggy piece of toilet paper to his face, but he did suddenly notice a pressure on his hand that wasn’t there before. Not like he cared. Everything was spiraling out of control and off of the edge of a cliff. What was one more thing?

Eyes red and dry despite the moist tears, Parker blinked away the blur and finally realized the pressure on his hand was Mira. She had reached forward and gently clasped his hand in her own. Parker felt the urge to resist but couldn’t tear himself away from the comfort the pressure of her hand gave. Her motherly instincts were right.

All Parker wanted right now was a hug… but from whom?

His mom?

Someone his own size?

Even now, the thought of someone being able to wrap their arms around him and him being able to do the same was unfathomable.

As his breathing calmed, Parker felt a new emotion boiling in his belly, and it quickly consumed him.

Anger.

Frustrated anger and distrust filled him like magma filling a volcano. He felt ready to burst at any moment, but he wasn’t about to leave now.

He needed to know more about these strangers like him. He needed to know more. His desire for knowledge fueled by the fact he had been deceived for his entire life hardened his features and cleared the darkness away from the corners of his eyes.

“Parker, I know this is a lot for you all at once,” said Mira, noticing the teen’s change in demeanor. “But…”

“Please…” said Parker, his voice cracking. The teenager was barely able to keep from falling apart as he sat there on that cork bottle chair. “Just… tell me what you can… about Borrowers? About what happens when… Borrowers are seen? What happens? And…. About me… and my….” Parker’s voice trailed off as he suddenly had trouble saying the word “mom.”

Toulouse sighed and leaned heavily onto the table and said, “Parker, are you sure?”

Parker nodded and squeezed Mira’s hand.

“Yes,” he said definitively. “Please.”

It took a few hours, but Toulouse and his family began telling Parker what he needed to know. They told him about how Borrowers had managed to keep themselves secret because of the rules and how they’ve had narrow misses in the past. They talked about how they went about creating their home and the balance Borrowers needed to live in secret with their human counterparts.

What really made Parker’s blood boil was the stories about what happened to Borrowers in the stories where the were caught.

Some were thrown in cages until they were rescued. Others managed to trick their ways out of their containment and away from their human captors. The one that hurt Parker the most was the ones that were treated as evolved pets.

Evolved pets had little homes they lived in with electricity and water. Repurposed doll houses were usually the container used rather than a cage with traditional bars – just like what Parker lived in.

Borrowers experienced isolation and every little thing was always taken care of. No need to borrow because food was always on the table. No need to climb because you’re carried everywhere. No need to go outside because entertainment is brought to you. The purpose of a Borrower was to go out and survive, not be taken care of at the whim of a human.

It was the exact existence Parker had been living.

It made his insides churn to think that his mom had been treating him like a pet for practically all of his life.

“Alright, that’s enough for today,” said Kers, chiming in after hours of silence. He had remained practically emotionless and silent for most of the time while Toulouse and his family helped “educate” Parker in the ways of a Borrower. The family opened their mouths to object, but Kers beat them to it. “Parker has been gone for a while, and I’m sure his mom is worried sick about him being missing. She’s bound to have noticed by now. You don’t want her looking for him, do you?”

The question shut down any arguments the family might’ve had. Despite Parker’s reservations in returning, he sighed and pushed himself to his feet.

“Um… thank you… really. I…” Parker stammered over his words as he thought about everything he just learned.

“You don’t need to thank us, Parker. Just, keep yourself safe,” said Mira.

“And, if you don’t mind, keep your knowledge about this place and my family close to your chest. I apologize again on behalf of my daughter. We should’ve made it clearer that she wasn’t supposed to act rashly when it came to your… situation,” said Toulouse.

“Thanks. I… can probably do that,” said Parker. His head swirled dangerously fast with his first step, but thankfully Kers was by his side and guided Parker safely toward the door. The older Borrower watched the younger cautiously while Parker paid him no mind.

Parker’s mind was far from him. There were too many other things going on to be concerned about revealing the family’s home. With a final farewell, Parker and Kers left the house and headed back down the route they came.

The two Borrowers were completely silent for the majority of the trek, leaving Parker to fester and dwell in his own thoughts.

It wasn’t until they were by the wall at a familiar stretch that Kers physically stopped moving forward and turned to face Parker. There was something in his expression that was sorrowful and uneasy, but also determined. It reminded Parker of the look Toulouse gave him a few times.

Fatherly.

It was a new look and took the teen by surprise.

“Parker, I know this is not how any of us wanted things to go,” said Kers. “But I want you to know that I’m sorry. It was never my intention to help keep this truth from you. I… had actually planned on talking to your mom today to figure out how to talk to you.”

Parker wasn’t sure if he was buying it, but Kers continued.

“I know you’re going through a lot, and I know I have no right to ask this of you, but listen to me and don’t do anything rash,” said Kers.

Parker bristled at the words.

“Rash? You don’t want me to be rash?! You knew. You watched for years and let me believe…” Parker took a breath as his fury reared its head again. “You let me believe I was human. You and that woman both.”

Kers stiffened as he heard that word. The last thing he wanted to do was make an enemy out of Parker, but Kers needed to make a few things clear to Parker. Attempting to diffuse the situation, he kept his voice calm and low.

“Parker, that woman is still your mom. She loves you and only wants the best for you. Believe me. I’ve seen it every day for years. I don’t think she would intentionally hurt you. I don’t know why she didn’t say anything, but it can’t have been easy when your differences are so obvious,” said Kers firmly.

Parker jerked his head away as he looked down at the corner of a nearby beam.

“She lied.”

“I know, and that’s not the best look. Still, Parker, trust me on this. She loves you. Regardless of everything else, she loves you,” emphasized Kers.

“She treated me like a pet. How… can I trust someone who would lie to me so easily for so long?” The words spilled out of Parker like water leaking from a sponge. He felt like he couldn’t absorb another thing and his words were now just spilling out.

“No, she didn’t. She treated you like her son. Coming from a family who used to have pets, I can see where taking care of a kid and taking care of a pet are almost the same thing,” pointed out Kers.

“But…”

“Listen, Parker. Don’t do anything rash. Think about everything you’ve just learned and don’t act emotionally. That’ll only hurt more,” advised Kers. “Sit and think about everything. I’ll be back later tonight to check on you if you’d like.”

Parker nodded numbly, but the adult’s words simply added to the puddle that was his thoughts. Kers finished walking Parker to his room and, with a reassuring pat on his shoulder, left the teen to go back to the world he knew.

As Parker jumped back through the electrical cover and climbed the stairs to his little house, he suddenly realized he was still wearing Kers’ cloak. The heavy fabric had been draped over his shoulders the entire walk back, and Kers must’ve thought Parker needed it more.

It felt like a hug from behind, and the warmth of the fabric kept Parker’s shaking at bay.

The teen made it back into his room and into his space with every intention of resting in his bed until dinner. The words he wanted to say were locked somewhere in his brain. He just needed time to muddle through.

It was what he saw in his kitchen as he entered the little house that instantly changed his mind.

Parker noticed a massive plate with cut apples just sitting there. Before, this would have been an enjoyable treat. Now, however, all Parker saw was those videos on his social media where some tasty treat was delivered on a platter to none other than the family pet.

Something about seeing that plate snapped something in his mind.

You’re just a pet to her.

It was a bold, hateful thought that spawned out of nowhere in his mind, fueled only by recent events.

Despite Kers’ warning, he wanted to know the answers.

He wanted to know why his mom hadn’t told him anything and everything she knew about him.

Another, greater part of him hoped that everything he just heard was a lie. He wanted it to be untrue. He wanted Kers and Toulouse and Mira and Finnick and Reed and Kit all to be lying to his face to abduct him into the walls.

Parker spun on his heel and marched back down the stairs and dared to climb the steps all the way down to the kitchen where he heard his mom… that woman… working away. Trembling in his shoes, Parker finally made it to ground level and came around the corner. The urge to vomit as he saw her filled him, which contrasted greatly with the expression on her face as she saw him.

~~~^*^*^~~~

Amanda had been pacing the floor for what felt like hours. She had practically torn the house upside down trying to find her son, Parker. After their little disagreement this morning and the fear eating her alive, she couldn’t find him.

His room?

Not there.

Living area?

Not there.

Bathroom?

Nowhere to be seen.

Kitchen?

Nope.

She had cut up some apples in the hopes of luring him out and to make sure he had a little something to eat if he was still upset with her, but to no avail.

She hoped that he hadn’t done something foolish or decided to go into the walls and got hurt. It was an idea she should have supported, but was afraid to.

It was clear now more than ever that she needed to talk to Parker about everything, and now she finally had the words to do so. The moment she found him, she would tell him everything. It was long overdue, but it was time.

If only she could find him!

Now, after she was about to start calling and shouting, there he was.

Parker came out from around the corner and relief immediately flooded over her. She rushed over and knelt, which made Parker flinch and shy away. Struck by the odd interaction, Amanda glanced over him and immediately noticed his appearance.

Parker looked drained. He had obviously been crying and looked ill. What really caught her off guard was what he had draped over his shoulders. It looked like some kind of cloak, but it was way too big for him. Brown, frayed, and torn, this thing obviously didn’t come from anything either of them had made.

There was time to ask questions later.

Right now, she was relieved beyond words that Parker was here.

“Parker! I’m so glad you’re here. I was worried sick. Where were you? Are you okay? Sweetie, I’m so sorry about earlier. I don’t know what came over me. I should’ve…”

“You should’ve what?” interrupted Parker, something that wasn’t like him. Amanda, caught off guard, felt her heart clench as she met her son’s eyes. There was something in them that she registered immediately.

Hurt.

Pain.

Anger.

Frustration.

Desperation.

Before she could say anything, Parker continued.

“How long?”

Those two words shook Amanda to her bones.

No. What?

“H-how long? How long what?”

“How long have you known I’m not your son?”

The words hung in the air. Like a dense fog, Amanda suddenly felt lost. Tendrils of tension clutched her chest.

No… I’ve run out of time. I’m too late.

Amanda’s throat clenched. She knew this conversation was going to happen, but not like this. She looked into Parker’s soft brown eyes and saw he was clinging onto the last threads of hope. It was part of that desperation she saw earlier.

And she had no lifeline to give him.

“Well?!” Parker’s voice cracked as tears welled up in his eyes. He looked to be on the verge of collapse.

Amanda bit back her own emotions as they constricted her throat. A bottomless void opened in Amanda’s heart.

“Parker… you are my son. I’ve always been your mom,” said Amanda. Parker couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Was she serious? Or was she lying. The tether he thought he was receiving was just within grasp. Maybe this was all just a bad dream.

Her next words shattered him.

“But I’m not your only mom. Someone… some beautiful, wonderful person gave birth to you.” Amanda’s cheeks were etched with tears at this point. With the last bit of her strength, she choked out, “I love you, Parker, as if you came from me… but you’re right. You are not mine.”

~~~~~^*^*^*^*^~~~~~

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[irenedrew]

Kinn: and what do we do when we are feeling sad?

Tankhun: add to cart

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Tankhun: Initiate checkout

Kinn: Oh my gods no, don't do this!

Tankhun: CLICK HERE TO PURCHASE!

Kinn: NOOOOOOO

#let my boy rest #he NEEDS his fashion to express himself okay? #tankhun my beloved #kinnporsche incorrect quotes #kinn theerapanyakul #kinnsporsche #tankhun theerapanyakul #lgbtq+ #vegaspete #biblebuild

[lost-in-lamentation]

he never imagined he'd show anyone this side of himself. but when it's you, he can't help but show you everything.

a/n: starting the side character writing off with a bang! this is part two of the first sign of affection.

content: what do the side characters do when they want to show you they appreciate you?

warnings: once again, if physical touch isn't your thing, neither is this post. also, solomon is a sad boi.

diavolo; he falls asleep around you.

the future king of devildom takes everything in stride. from RAD problems to royal affairs, diavolo has it all covered. but sometimes, even the ruler himself finds himself on the panicked side. he begins to seek you out when he finds himself standing on anxiety's edge; your presence relaxes him to the point where he can't fight off the tiredness that clings. as the papers get signed, diavolo's eyes start to droop, and he doesn't notice the way you shift yourself closer to catch him. he falls asleep on your shoulder before he knows it, and you allow him to rest as long as he needs.

later, when he stirs and lifts his head to look at you, you quickly coax it back to where it was, sending his heart racing. "go back to sleep, you need it."

"... thank you." diavolo relishes in the way your hand combs through his hair, taking a moment to breathe a sigh of relief.

═  ˎˊ˗

barbatos; he fiddles with your hands.

as diavolo's right hand man, barbatos barely ever has a second to spare. so when he extends you an invite to come and have a tea tasting session with him, you absolutely cannot decline. throughout the day, he hands you flavours upon flavours of tea, each time never failing to ask if you'd like to take some of the leaves back home for yourself. the two of you eventually sit in a comfortable silence, fingertips brushing when you reach for the tea pot at the same time. without a word, barbatos slips his gloves off and reaches for your hands, beginning to idly play with your fingers.

your eyes widen in surprise, but you allow him to continue. "you... you okay?"

barbatos doesn't take his eyes away from your hands. "please, indulge me for just a moment," he says softly, placing his palm on top of yours.

═  ˎˊ˗

simeon; he plays with your hair.

simeon is often a man of few words. after all, he can never get his d.d.d. to work when he wants to call or even text you. so instead, he goes the old-fashioned way and comes knocking on your door instead. his heart skips a beat when you usher him in, and time flies by without much effort. the two of you sit pressed into each other's sides, and simeon takes his chance when he notices how your head bobs up and down sleepily. his hand reaches up and begins to tenderly card his hand through your hair, chuckling at the wobbly grin you began making.

"that feels nice," you murmur, settling even further into his side.

simeon lightly nuzzles his face on the top of your head in return. "i'm glad."

═  ˎˊ˗

solomon; he cries in front of you.

for someone to have lived as long as solomon, emotions begin to blend together. he's long forgotten where the line between sadness and anger lies, and it shows when the sorcerer smiles at a situation that calls for a frown. you recall the story he told you long ago, remembering the way his expression wavered as he recounted his memories. you stand by his side now in silence; his voice falters as he tries to say anything to you. in response, you turn his face towards you, telling him to do what he has never done in front of anyone.

you bring him closer, wrapping your arms around him. "stop holding back. you're safe with me."

"safe with you," solomon whispers back. the dam breaks, and in your presence, solomon allows tears to fall for the first time in centuries.

a/n: i love cat, if you couldn't tell.

#obey me #obey me swd #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me simeon #obey me solomon #diavolo x reader #barbatos x reader #simeon × reader #solomon x reader #obey me nightbringer #aris writes 🐈‍⬛

[luveline]

jade i am begging on my knees ….. any time you are up for it …… it would make me very greatly happy to see something with a bombshell!reader x hotch <33333

The office is hot today in the midst of a ninety degree summer, and your coworkers have been forced to strip down to their lightest layers, the women in linen blouses, men with their shirt sleeves rolled up high. Spencer has ditched his sweater vest reluctantly, cooling himself with a makeshift fan fashioned from printer paper, and Emily huffs next to you at her desk, overwhelmed. 

“How aren't you hot?” she demands to know. 

You lean back in your chair with a demure smile. “Mind over matter.”  

She rolls her eyes. “I shouldn't have asked.” 

Hotch's office door opens. You turn in your chair to watch him appear —even Unit Chief's get hot, apparently. He looks flustered in the heat, pink-cheeked and hair skewed ever so slightly, the most unmade you've ever seen him at work. 

You could get used to it. 

He feels you looking, narrowing his eyes. You'd like to think it was playful. For Hotch, it is. 

“Hot, handsome,” you say. 

“I'm fine.” 

“I wasn't asking.” You beam at him. 

“Enough. You know the rules.” 

He doesn't seem too mad, but he's right; you know the office rules. Don't flirt, don't start, and don't text him inside of work hours unless that text pertains to work itself. You'd started calling him instead —what are you wearing right now?— and he'd decided that text now meant any communication lest you find another loophole. You're pushing it. 

“Ah, the rules,” you say, throwing your arm across your eyes in mock distress, before peeking under it to see if he's watching. He always is. “You know rules aren't made for people like me, handsome.” 

“Stop it, final warning. Or I'll have you moved.” 

He makes being his girlfriend very difficult. You roll your shoulders and drop the act. “Hey, I need to talk to you about something.” 

“Afterwards.” 

“No, right now. Please? It's important, I swear.” 

He gestures for you to come up. You take the stairs and cross the landing to his office, where he's already stepped back inside to open the window even further on its hinge. There isn't much wind to breeze, but there is a palpable difference between his office and the bullpen. You join him at the window and let the barely cooler air fan your face. 

“What's wrong?” he asks. 

“Can you give me a quick kiss? It would really lift my spirits.” 

He laughs somewhere deep in his chest. “No, honey. Now tell me what you wanted to tell me.” 

“I have a doctor's appointment next week, on the 13th. It's a Wednesday. I was hoping for PTO, but I can take a sick day if that's not agreeable.” 

Hotch gives you the side eye, brows gently furrowed. “Everything okay?” 

“Wouldn't you like to know.” 

“I would, actually.” 

“Yeah, well, you'll have to beg for it. Not everything in life is free, Hotchner–” You break into laughter as he grabs your waist, not expecting it, your hips tender as he squeezes. “Ouch, you're kinda handsy, you know that?” 

You sound beautiful like this, laughing as you talk, so happy it lines every word. Hotch pulls your front to his, arms crossing casually behind your back, his eyes expectant. “Tell me,” he commands smoothly. 

“Because you asked so nicely, I'm just fine, but I've been feeling a little under the weather. I think I'm anaemic.” 

“And this is the first time I'm hearing about this because…” 

“Because I'm not allowed to talk to you at work!” 

He rolls his eyes as you drop a considerable amount of your weight against his arms. Usually, Hotch would meet your eyes and say, You're punishing me for a rule created out of necessity, or something to that effect, but, despite everything that might say otherwise, he really likes you. Loves you.

“I know, honey, I'm sorry. Maybe we can… allot you a few texts a day.” He analyses your expression. “One a day.” 

You squeeze his naked forearm and lift up to kiss his cheek. He stays completely still while you do it, beside the small stroke of his thumb where it rests on your back. “Thank you. I'll leave you alone now, or we might get caught fraternising with one another and lose our jobs. Oh, wait, that's not actually going to happen–” 

You burst out laughing as Hotch once again squeezes your waist in warning, the hint of a smile on his lips. 

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #hotch x reader #hotch #hotch x you #hotch blurb #hotch drabble

[jgracie]

(E)STELLAR BABYSITTING!

masterlist | rules

in which you and percy babysit his younger sister estelle (and chaos ensues)

pairings percy jackson x fem!reader, platonic!percy jackson x estelle blofis, platonic!fem!reader x estelle blofis

warnings reader wants kids in this, knife mention (no one gets hurt dw)

an mentioned this in my percy dating hcs so obviously i had to write it

When Percy asked you if you wanted to help him babysit Estelle for the day, you agreed with no hesitation. You saw how hard his parents worked, and living in Camp Half-Blood taught you to never underestimate the difficulty of dealing with little kids. Besides, you love Percy’s family and spending more time with your boyfriend wouldn’t hurt, right? 

If only you knew how wrong you were. 

“Babe, baby, Y/N,” Percy said, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and pulling you into his chest, “you don’t need to read all of that, I’ve got in here!” You took a glance at him and found him tapping on his head.

You smiled, continuing to read as you mumbled, “well, I don't.” The ‘that’ in question was a paper with a bunch of notes Sally had scribbled down for the two of you before she left. They were really simple things, like Estelle’s nap times and favourite foods, but you couldn’t help but go through them thoroughly just in case, since you really didn’t want to mess this up. 

Percy grabbed the paper from your hands and threw it away, grinning at the shocked expression you sported. Soon enough, you let out a chuckle and then he started laughing, which triggered you to laugh even more, resulting in the two of you writhing on the floor in laughing fits, arms wrapped around your stomachs as tears fell from your eyes.

Until you remembered what you were here for. Suddenly stopping, you looked around and realised Estelle was nowhere to be seen, “Percy, she’s gone,” you said, your heart beating faster and faster. Percy quickly got up and began frantically searching for his sister, mumbles of “oh my Gods,” and “mum’s gonna kill me,” tumbling out of his lips. You were in a very similar position, biting your lip and fighting back tears (of anxiousness this time) while looking for Estelle, praying to your Godly parent and any other who happened to be listening that she was safe and you’d find her soon.

“Pretty,” you heard a child’s voice whisper. Immediately, you and Percy ran to the kitchen, and sure enough, Estelle was there. Somehow, she managed to climb up the counter, sit there and play with a knife. You yanked the knife from her hand and breathed a sigh of relief at the fact that she was unscathed. 

Picking her up and setting her down on the floor, Percy said, “I’m gonna hide all the utensils, and then we’re getting out of here. I don’t think the house is safe anymore. Could you get her ready?”

“Sure, but where are we going?” You asked, lifting Estelle and rocking her up and down as she absentmindedly played with the beads on your camp necklace. Percy paused for a second, thinking about where to go before choosing the park nearby. It was walking distance, so you wouldn’t need to take the bus, decreasing your chances of losing Estelle.

While Percy babyproofed the house, you changed Estelle into a cute skirt and matching t-shirt she’d gotten from Poseidon himself. You never would’ve thought the God was a fashion diva, but there’s a first time for everything! 

“Okay Stella, what do you want to do with your hair?” You asked, setting her down on a stool facing the vanity as you started looking for all the various hair tools you could use. Noticing her silence, you stopped and slowly turned, afraid to find her gone again. Luckily, she was where you put her, her eyes wide as she stared at you. 

You were about to repeat your question when she pointed her finger at you, beaming and saying, “pretty.” Your eyes widened and you couldn’t help but smile back at her, her words tugging on your heartstrings. You shyly mumbled a “thank you,” your face heating up as you asked your question again. This time, she answered you, deciding on a braid. 

Braiding and humming a tune, you felt content. Sure, the babysitting hadn’t started great, but the park was always a good idea. There, you’d be able to keep a watchful eye on Estelle at all times, since there aren’t any kitchens for her to hide in. You were so wrapped up in your braiding you didn’t notice a certain pair of watchful sea-green eyes locked on you. Percy leaned on the doorframe of the room, not wanting to make a noise as he quite enjoyed staring at your serene facial expression - the type you’d only ever see demigods make in their sleep, and even that was rare considering all the nightmares. 

“Okay, I’m done! You look so gorgeous, Stella!” You exclaimed, really proud of your work. At the sound of your happy voice, she started giggling. 

“I’m starting to think you like my sister more than me. Don’t I look gorgeous too, babe?” Percy asked, finally making his presence known as he took long strides towards you. He pouted, feigning hurtness. 

Giving him a peck on the lips, you said, “you look the most gorgeous, Perce.” Satisfied with your answer, he began peppering kisses all over your face, slowly nearing your lips before you put a hand on his chest, stopping him.

“There’s a kid here,” you said, smiling at Percy’s scowl. And with that, the three of you headed to the park.

Your journey to the park was a quick one with no issues, as each of you walked with one of Estelle’s hands in yours, preventing her from running away. Now that you were there, you freed her from your clutches, allowing her to play while the two of you sat on a bench nearby, making small talk and occasionally cheering her on whenever she glanced at you.

“She’s such a sweet girl,” you told Percy, leaning your head on his shoulder. He hummed, a goofy smile on his face as he thought of the idea of the two of you having a child - one with his hair and your eyes, or maybe his eyes and your hair, it didn’t really matter. You noticed this and raised an eyebrow, asking, “what’re you smiling about?”

Percy blushed, suddenly awfully shy, “would you wanna have one with me?” He asked, making your eyes widen. 

“I mean, obviously not now, but in the future, yeah,” you smiled, already knowing Percy would be the perfect father for your kids. You continued to talk about your future kids, toying with the possibility of them inheriting your demigod powers, and were so wrapped up in your own world you didn’t notice a certain girl you came to the park for was gone.

“Wait, where’s Estelle?” You asked, unable to see her anywhere.

“Oh Gods, not again!”

#percy jackson x reader #percy jackson x you #percy jackson x y/n #percy jackson #percy jackson x fem reader #pjo #pjo x reader #percy jackson fanfic #percy jackson drabble #cynwrites

[hannieehaee]

Can you please make a seventeen reaction if a saesang hurt their s/o? lysm btw💙

a sasaeng hurting their s/o

content: mentions of an ambiguous attack on the reader (u can assume it was something like pulling at reader's arm/hair or a simple slap/punch), anger from the members, angst, fluff (kinda??), etc.

wc: 829

a/n: ily <33 i was kinda conflicted on this bc im not sure whether theyd react in an idol fashion in which they just kind of let their managers handle it or if theyd handle it themselves so i went for a mixture

masterlist

seungcheol -

he's super protective over his members, which also translates over to all his loved ones. i think he would get immediately exasperated and get all up on whoever dared hurt you, fan or not. if things got physical, he'd get physical too. however, he'd try to keep things civilized.

jeonghan -

he'd let his managers handle the sasaeng, knowing that despite how much he'd like to protect you on his own, head on, he had a lot of limitations as an idol. he'd feel extremely guilty about it and would beat himself up over it for a while. would do everything he could to make you feel protected and taken care of (even more than he already did) from then on.

joshua -

he'd be unfiltered in his arguing and his anger towards the aggressor. he wouldnt get aggressive or anything, but the venom in his eyes would be enough for a person to drop dead. would go as far as try to get the authorities involved right in that moment, promising that he'd be pressing charges on your behalf. when it came to you, he'd need you to calm him down lol.

jun -

he's so used to being mobbed and to people injuring themselves due to this that he wouldn't even be surprised at this happening. this wouldnt mean that he wouldn't be insanely angry though lmao. he'd curse them out in chinese and start a whole scene if necessary. this person was not going to leave this situation unscathed.

soonyoung -

his emotions usually take over him very easily and i believe in such an instance anger would show clearly in his demeanor. he'd protectively hold you behind him as he cursed and antagonized the sasaeng while his managers attempted to alleviate the situation. there would be anger in his eyes that you'd never seen before, but it'd turn into worry and regret as soon as he met your eyes.

wonwoo -

usually when he's being crowded or fans are too close, his body language seems closed off and unwelcoming to all the unwarranted attention, but in this instance i think his fight or flight mode would activate, making him physically place himself between you and the aggressor. rare instance in which anyone would see wonwoo genuinely angry.

jihoon -

he'd be too shocked to react, only realizing what had happened after the fact. kinda out of character, but i think he'd have to be held back from taking matters into his own hands. would be furious at the blatant disrespect to both you and him. how could a fan ever lay hand on you? he'd remain disappointed in his fandom for a while, keeping himself (and you) away from the limelight for a short period of time.

seokmin -

for once in his life, the only emotion taking over him was pure unfiltered anger. BUT he would 100% prioritize checking in on you and keeping his hands and eyes on you to make sure you were okay. would let his managers take care of the situation and simply stare down the perpetrator with venom in his eyes. would be extremely apologetic to you afterwards and express guilt over and over.

mingyu -

he's shown many times before he's not afraid to tell fans to mind their boundaries before, so i think that in a serious situation in which you were being put in danger, he'd become extremely serious to a scary extent. he would not get physical or anything like that, but he'd use his words and stance to intimidate the crazed fan.

minghao -

extremely serious and put off. the moment someone laid hands on you, his body would take control of itself and put himself between you and any danger. he'd yell and curse at whoever dared cross such a boundary and disrespect both you and him in such a way. he'd hold certain disdain for fans crossing boundaries from then on.

seungkwan -

he's too polite and media trained to actually participate in the altercation, but anyone could see the genuine anger trying to filter out of him as he and his body guards tried to deal with the situation. his first priority would be you and making sure you weren't too hurt.

vernon -

he wouldve been too shocked in the moment to do anything, but as soon as the short-lived attack ended and his managers were already apprehending the perpetrator, he'd scoff and curse at whoever hurt you. there would be this unknown craze in his eyes indicating uncharacteristic anger that could only ever be provoked by such a situation.

chan -

insanely angry and frustrated at the situation. in an ideal world, he'd take care of this situation on his own, proving to you that he'd never let anyone hurt you. however, he knew that the appropriate thing to do would be to let his managers apprehend the aggressor while he checked in on you and made sure you were okay and as far away from the situation as possible.

#seventeen fanfic #seventeen x reader #svt fanfic #svt x reader #seventeen #seventeen imagine #svt #seventeen oneshot #svt reactions #seventeen reactions #svt imagines #svt scenarios #seventeen scenarios #svt angst #seventeen angst

[kusuwu]

# sfw saiki head canons a/n: first post, requests and anons welcome!

purposely hiding your treasured items in places you will never find them because he knows you will seek him for help.

"kusuo...?" you greet him on the phone in a hushed whisper, embarrassed to be calling him again so soon. you're both aware that all you need to do to get his attention is simply call out to him in your head, but you'd rather do it the old fashioned way (and he liked appearing busy to the people around him so no one would bother him, even though he continues to speak to you via telepathy.)

he just grins to himself, knowing exactly what you needed and why you did. he took your small, soft blanket you've had since you were a child and hid it on mars.

after hearing your explanation he can't help but scrunch up his nose so he doesn't laugh out loud. "of course i'll find your blankie for you," he speaks in his usual monotone voice, one that made you feel uneasy at times like these because you felt like you were bothering him, but he’s really amused that this same old trick had worked yet again.

uses your own thoughts against you, mocking you in a condescending tone whenever he senses the slightest twinge of affection in your heart for him.

saiki's dark pink eyebrows raised as your thoughts filled his head; he looks so handsome today, why am i getting so nervous all of a sudden? we're just friends.

at this point he felt close enough to you to speak out loud when he knew you two were alone, so it didn't surprise him when you let out a surprised gasp when he spoke into your mind.

"you know i can hear you, y/n, right?" he asked, his expression bored as he pretended to watch whatever was playing on the television.

he'll press his chest against your back whenever he wants your attention, especially in public. (will swear to protect you if one of his crazed admirers spot the two of you, overcome with anger and envy.)

depending on how desperate he is, kusuo will either huff dramatically, like a dog wanting to be pet, or even start playfully biting your shoulder.

will go to you on the rare days his powers go past his limit, his telepathy going haywire and forcing him to listen to the thoughts of thousands of people within the entire city. he finds comfort in your warm clothes and gentle heart beat as he desperately clings onto you — you well aware of how much he detests physical contact, so you just let him do whatever made him feel more at ease.

saiki let out a small whimper, his face turning into one of turmoil as his head roars of a crashing sea of thoughts of others. at first he simply leaned his head onto your shoulder, signalling that something was wrong and that he craved your comforting embrace, but when you wrongfully ignored the small act, he couldn't help himself from cuddling into you completely.

he let out a quiet breath as you reassured him that he was okay and that it would soon pass, your voice like an anchor, grounding him in the present moment.

the psychic nuzzled his head of pink hair into your chest, basking in your scent as the smallest things about you made the voices in his head quieter.

he will never hesitate to teleport to you when he can feel your discomfort or sadness, purposely acting out or being silly in an attempt at cheering you up. of course, when you ask why he's being so weird he'll just say he was hyper from all the coffee jelly he's had that morning.

knows your mind inside and out, taking note of your favorite things and surprising you with them later on.

if you beg him enough he’ll shape shift into your favorite animal, and might even let you pet him (which he ends up falling in love with; your gentle hands rubbing into his soft fur, or petting his head while you praise him endlessly.)

secretly being his safe space, his quiet demeanor creating a comfortable atmosphere where the two of you can just sit in silence together and enjoy each other’s presence.

#kusuwu #saiki k x reader #saiki x reader #saiki k fluff #saiki fluff #kusuo saiki x reader #kusuo x reader #kusuo saiki fluff #kusuo fluff #𐙚 writing ꒱ ー #anime fluff #saiki k

[reallykaz]

— .toothpaste kisses // chris sturniolo

chris sturniolo x bestfriend!fem!reader

plot summary : you and chris come home from a party in a fit of drunk giggles and decide to help each other get ready for bed but end up in a compromising position with his body so close to yours and his toothbrush in your mouth.

content warnings : basically nothing but strong language and mentions of drinking and being drunk. matt being a menace lmaoo. using each others toothbrush??? a little sexual tension hehe. idiots in love and a whole lotta fluff!!

a/n : an idea i got whilst listening to ‘toothpaste kisses by the maccabees’ it’s a cute song so check it out if you want! always appreciate all likes, comments and reblogs! mwuah <3

wc : 2.4k

"Ah! I’m gonna fall!"

You let out a fit of giggles as you try to put one foot in front of the other whilst walking up the stairs to get to his living room. Chris was laughing too with an arm wrapped tightly around your waist with the excuse that it would help your balance but he knew he was equally as drunk as you right now so it was pretty pointless.

He just wanted to be close to you.

"No!" Chris slurs with a stupid smile, stumbling into your side and you can feel his grip tighten around your body and it makes your tummy swirl with butterflies that recently seem to appear every time you see Chris. "I’ll catch you, baby."

Matt rolls his eyes from behind you two, car keys in one hand and your black heels in the other after you begged him to take them off a few minutes ago. "Guys be quiet, Nick’s asleep."

"Shhh Chris! Nick’s sleeping." You whisper as you feel Matt’s hand pushing gently on your back and you turn to Chris, your finger coming up to his lips but you pull it away when he opens his mouth and bites it. "Matt, he’s biting me." You dramatically pout and hold out your finger in his face.

"Stop biting her, Chris." Matt rolls his eyes with a sigh as he pushes your finger away and finally gets the two of you to the living room in one piece before dropping your shoes on the floor with a thud and throwing his keys somewhere else.

When Matt turns around again, you and Chris were squaring off to each other and he rubs his tired eyes. Poor kid just wanted to go to sleep.

"Rah!" You’re in a complete fit of giggles when Chris tries to bite you again, playfully pushing him away as you kneel over in laughter.

"What have you guys been drinking?" Matt stares at the both of you and tries to hide his smile when Chris pulls you closer to him. He was happy his brother had someone like you - a yin to his yan, his twin flame, his other half. A true best friend.

Matt loved the fact that Chris had someone that could easily bounce off his energy whenever needed. All he hated was that neither one of you would admit that you were stupidly in love with each other. It was like everyone could see it except you and Chris.

But as of right now, he was more than positive that neither of you couldn’t see shit right now.

"Rah!" You try to jump on Chris but he loses his balance and the both of you end up dropping to the kitchen floor into a pool of joy and laughter, barely registering the hard bang that you’ll definitely feel tomorrow morning with a bruise.

Matt checks the time on his phone and sighs, disguising his smile with a blank expression. "Okay that’s enough. Get up and go to bed."

"Help me?" You slur, eyes barely open and holding out your arms for Matt to grab onto. Chris huffs from next to you and holding his head as he tries to grab onto the couch that was on the other side of the room, clearly way too drunk to realise.

When he finally pushes himself halfway up, Matt chuckles when he walks over and shoves Chris back to the floor in good brotherly fashion before pulling you upright. "Chris?" You mumble as you untangle yourself from Matt’s arms to look at your best friend who was practically passed out.

"Hm? What the fuck?" He grumbles, opening his eyes and pushing himself up off the floor once again, brows furrowed in confusion as he tries to figure out how he was still on the floor.

Matt stifles a laugh from behind you before he walks in front to pull Chris up since your attempt was just ‘holding out your arms in hopes he’ll grab onto it’ type of uselessness.

Chris soon finds himself in your arms again, holding onto each other like you depended on it. If it was up to him, he’d happily stay next to you for the rest of his lifetime and the next.

You rest your head on his shoulder with an arm wrapped tightly around his back as he slowly drags you down the stairs to his bedroom. Matt watches from the top, waiting to see if any of you will tumble to the bottom and pass out but when neither of you do he just backs away, "I’m going to bed so be quiet."

"Yeah, yeah whatever tough guy." Chris mumbles and rolls his eyes as he opens the bedroom door for you like a true gentleman. You pull away when you walk in and look down at your outfit, "I hate my dress." Tugging the tight fabric away from your waist with a huff before it clings back.

"Why? You look perfect." Chris replies, eyes glossing over as he admires your body and everything else about you. He hated the fact he didn’t have the courage to tell you that whilst sober and the way you look so beautiful tonight just like all of the other days he sees you. "You always look perfect," being brave with a mumble as he pulls his shoes off and looks away from you.

It’s like you don’t acknowledge anything he just said when you turn to face him, "can i wear one of your tees?" Not even giving Chris time to reply before you’re already stumbling your way into his closet and finding some of his fresh love shirts.

Obviously you heard what he said because you always do, even in a state like this. But the way it felt too good to be true scared you into ignorance and you got good at pretending even when your heart was pounding and your mind swirled with thoughts of just kissing and loving on him.

You can hear the faint sound of music playing as you clumsily scramble the black dress off your body and slip on Chris’s shirt, sighing in relief after you feel like you can finally breathe again. The task itself took longer than usual since you kept tripping over air and almost falling on your ass for the second time tonight.

Walking back out and leaning on the closet door, you look at Chris with a stupid grin. He was lying on the edge of the bed shirtless and struggling to undo his belt whilst humming to the music playing quietly from his phone. "Want help?"

Chris looks up with flushed cheeks when you catch him struggling to change and he lets out a nervous chuckle, "It’s stuck." When you walk over, he finally looks down at your outfit and his heart melts at his ultimate favourite sight of you in his clothes. Chris would give you all of his shirts if he knew it meant anything to you like it did to him.

His body goes into overdrive when your hand is on his belt and his mind instantly imagines this in a much different dirtier context that leaves him just staring at you wide eyed like a puppy.

"It’s not stuck you idiot."

Chris lifts his hips up when you gently pull the belt off, eyes glancing at your naked thighs makes his cock twitch and he has to look back at your face to steady his breathing.

He can’t tell if his mind was spinning from the alcohol or if it was the smirk on your face. It’s probably both but the way you’re looking at him wasn’t helping and his eyes glance at your lips for just a second. If Chris wasn’t so in his head, he would’ve seen you do the exact same thing.

You’re leaning over his body and for some reason your face was a little too close to his but neither of you pulled away. The butterflies were back again and goosebumps appear on your skin this time and your heart knew it was all Chris but your mind made excuses up for you. Like always.

You were both drunk and the too many tequilas you had earlier was making your tummy swirl and you were just cold. That’s it. Nothing more. Nothing less. These feelings for Chris was too all consuming to the point that it scared you. You couldn’t lose him over rejection.

You’re completely fine loving Chris in your heart, where nobody else can reach but him.

When you lean closer, Chris freezes under you and for a split second he was convinced you were gonna kiss him. But when you place his belt next to his thigh and grab his hands with that pretty smile you always have, he knew it was all wishful thinking. Obviously you wouldn’t kiss him!

"We have to brush our teeth."

Dragging Chris up off the bed, you hold his hand going into the bathroom and he turns on the light behind you. You pivot your body away to look in the mirror and frown at how you look - hair frizzed, mascara smudged and lipgloss gone.

"You look like a mess," Chris was also staring at your reflection with a teasing smile and toothbrushes in his hands that makes you turn to look at his face. "And you’re annoying," your fake scowl disappears to match his smile and he laughs as you take the toothbrush, fingers brushing against his.

"But you love me," he mumbles with his eyes still trained on your reflection as if he couldn’t look away even if he wanted to, wrapping one arm around your waist to pull you close as you focus on putting toothpaste on both of your brushes.

"Of course," You mumble softly as you begin brushing your teeth casually. The alcohol was making your mind feel less hyper and more sleepy since you felt fuzzy to the point you don’t even realise you’ve stopped brushing.

Chris just smiles when he sees your eyes drooping. He thought you looked adorable.

"Hey, look at me." You feel Chris turn your body to press against his when you widen your eyes to look at him more clearly, surprised but content with how close your faces were.

"Hi." You slur with a whisper, pulling your toothbrush out of your mouth. When you lean over the sink to spit it out, Chris holds your hair back so you don’t get any toothpaste in it. "Sorry that was gross," wiping your mouth, your cheeks get warm with embarrassment when you look back at Chris who just shook his head.

"Shut up," he smiles.

"Let me brush your teeth." You drunkenly giggle as you lift up your toothbrush up to Chris’s mouth and surprisingly, his mouth opens for you. Your own mouth opens when his own toothbrush finds it way past your lips and he brushes gently, as if he was scared to hurt you.

The two of you are left in another fit of giggles mixed with messy toothpaste froth and water. You remind yourself that the blush on your cheeks was from the alcohol and not the way Chris held you tighter when he leans over to spit in the sink.

You do the same afterwards as if it’ll cure the desirable need to kiss him…it doesn’t.

He holds your hair back again and begins to think about his feelings about you. After his first talking stage, Chris has always sworn of relationships because of his underlying commitment issues that it caused and now the thought of having a girlfriend scared the shit out of him.

But lately, he’s found himself looking at couples in public and then imagining you and him in their position, just doing simple things like holding hands whilst walking down the street, sharing an ice cream or just random acts of affection because, why not? But then realised you already do all of that stuff with him and it wasn’t scary.

The only part that scares Chris is that this was you. Not some random girl off Instagram or a hook up at a party. You were constant. He knew that you preferred to sleep on the left side of his bed. He knew that you liked showers more than baths because they made you feel better. He knew that you would steal his clothes and then return them without telling him. The point was, Chris knew all of these little things and silly quirks that you do because you were simply just there.

And he loved it. Really loved it.

"Chris?" You’re gently rubbing his mouth with a warm towel when you watch him blink back into reality. "I thought you fell asleep with your eyes open again," you joke with a warm laugh as you turn your head to fold the towel but Chris grabs it from your hands and drops it to the floor.

"What did you do–

His lips take your breath away but for some reason you instinctively throw your arms around his neck and kiss him back whilst your eyes flutter shut. Chris smiles against your lips and his hands wander down to your hips, pulling you flush against his body and he could taste the mint on your breath when you open your mouth for him.

You let out a small whimper when Chris’s tongue slides into your mouth and the heat between your thighs gets stronger. His hand travel further down and begins to pull up the t-shirt you’re wearing ever so slightly to grab onto your ass. You lean on your tip-toes to hold onto his face and press your lips harder into his.

You felt so needy for each other but the both of you knew it wasn’t the right time.

You pull away first with a dazed smile as your thumb gently wipes Chris’s bottom lip that was slick with spit. "I’ve always wanted to do that," he whispers and you melt under his gaze, your tummy whirling with desire. "Me too."

Chris feels an overwhelming sense of joy and just can’t seem to wipe the silly grin off his face. He was just so happy to realise that this was it, he wasn’t scared anymore. He wanted you. And he knew you wanted him too. That shared feeling between one another was special.

When your hands trail down Chris’s bare chest and you feel how warm his skin was, he wishes thinks you’re about to kiss him again but when your face suddenly lights up and he sees that look in your eye, the energy shifts and he knows you’re about to ask something stupid.

"Will you help me take off my makeup?"

"Do i have a choice?"

"No, not really."

"….where’s the wipes?"

#christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo imagine #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo fic #nicolas sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nick sturniolo fic #sturniolo triplets #–stargirl fics

[plush-rabbit]

Dating Vox Headcanons

I have opinions again!! It's been forever!!

A/N: its kinda on brand for me to fall for a tv headed demon

It comes to no surprise that Vox is obsessive when it comes to things that interest him. Taking note of you, is both a blessing and a curse. It’s cute- He’s cute. When he attempts to speak to you in the beginning, he’s mauve, not skipping a beat in his attempt to make himself bigger and better than anyone you’ve ever known. However, the moment that you take interest in him- that you actually encourage him to talk more about himself- he might actually short circuit a bit. His screen freezes and he might even flash SMPTE colors on his screen. 

As cute as he can be in the beginning, his obsessiveness also leaves you with no privacy whatsoever. He needs to know what you’re doing. It’s almost more than a need. It’s a want. It’s a desire to check in on you no matter what he’s doing in the meantime. He checks on you constantly, and sometimes it's for the worst. Hearing you laugh with someone that isn’t him, knowing that you’re having a good time when he isn’t around, is enough to have him claw at the table. He won’t confront you about it- at least not in the beginning of the relationship. At some point, you just become aware that he’s there. That as long as there’s some sort of screen- a camera, a television, a watch, anything- he can be there in no time flat. 

He needs you close to him. He doesn’t want to wait a second more without you, so he’ll hire you as his personal assistant. It’s great pay and hours, and the benefits are reserved to you and only you. At first, you’re grateful- you’re in Hell and your partner is someone who holds power, honestly, it could be worse. He gets the benefit of seeing you everyday, practically 24/7, with you at his beck and call. You scurry beside him, take your lunches beside him, he takes up your entire time. The few times that you are allowed to go eat with others in the building, he’s keeping an eye on you. He needs to make sure that he can trust the others around you- that they won’t set you up for failure.

That being said, any relationships that you have outside of him and the other Vees, is monitored. Thanks to technology and addictive personalities, everyone has some sort of device on them at all times. He needs to make sure you aren’t with people who will whisper misguidance into your ear. He needs to make sure that you’re okay. However, the minute someone gets a bit too cozy with you, he’ll make sure to take care of the problem. Whether it's stitching an audio together to make it sound like they’re badmouthing you, or anything of the sort, he’ll do it. He just needs you with him. He can’t risk someone else starting to tell you how suffocating the relationship sounds.

It’s gifts here and there for you! Whatever you want- whatever you’ve even browsed online, he’s sending it your way via express shipping. It’s wonderful at first- you get what you want and all you have to do is tell the television demon how wonderful he is and how much you appreciate him and how you’ll never leave him. It’s sweet at first, you get nice things, but then you have an argument with him, and you realize that his gifts aren’t just that. What he gave you was expensive- would it kill you to just be a little kinder to him? You can’t just smile and admit you’re wrong at least once? Especially after everything he’s done for you?

Whether you’re tolerated by Velvette or Valentino or not, you’re stuck in every meeting that Vox has with them. Lunches, dinners, conferences, attempting to calm Valentino down after a tantrum, overseeing Velvette and her fashion shows- you’re right there, next to Vox. His hand claws over the top of your head, patting you, or raking his claws down your back or over your arm in an attempt to soothe him. The way he sees it, he soothes everyone else, and there’s no one to settle his nerves except for you. You’re an accessory at times- dolled up, perched at his side, and only speaking when you’re given permission to. You’re paraded around the office, following him close at his heels, making sure that where he goes, you follow. You can’t be left alone- what if something were to happen to you? He needs to be close by to make sure that you stay safe.

He hates getting upset at you. It breaks his heart- or whatever he has inside of him- to see you snap at him. You curl your lips, bare your fangs and with tears in your eyes, you tell him how you’re exhausted and how you don’t want to be some accessory to him, how you’re tired of being stuck inside the damn tower. You never listen to his warnings of it being so dangerous outside, and when you do make an attempt to walk away from him, you remember that he’s an Overlord, and you are not. He’s horrific, mean, and much stronger than you are, and he has no trouble putting you in your place if you even make an attempt to leave him. He really does hate yelling at you. You’re terrified of him days after, flinching and tensing when he reaches for you. But you’re just a bit dense and while you’re pretty, there’s not much going on in that head of yours, so you have to understand that he just has to be assertive sometimes. 

After an argument, he doesn’t necessarily say he’s sorry, but he is softer around you for quite some time. His hands caress yours, and he adorns your wrist in jewelry, letting the tips of claws bump over every bridge of charms and rings. His claw traces over your fingertips, and he mumbles sweet things to you. He tells you how pretty you are, and how sweet you are to him. He takes a day off to just spend with you, to make up for everything that happened before. An apology will never be spoken out loud, he could never admit that he went too far, but he would tell you that maybe you two can leave the tower, go someplace nice and see all that he doesn’t let you see alone.

Considering who he is surrounded with consistently, he needs attention that isn’t cruel. He craves your attention. He likes how kind you are to him. In those moments where everything is still, and the lights aren’t so bright, but coloring you both in a golden hue, he likes the quiet when it's with you. It’s interesting to watch him be so apprehensive with his movements. He slowly rests himself on his stomach, the back of his screen facing upwards, as your hand starts to scratch up and down his back. You can feel him shiver, you can feel his breath, the tapping of his claws against you- the stillness that he tries to hold just so you won’t stop. If your phone buzzes, or your attention is taken away, he buries himself further into you, a low hum emitting from him. It’s the few times you see him so mellow.

There are times when Vox can be sweet. When he has the time- usually during a lunch, or one of your breaks- he’s right beside you, listening to you rattle on about this or that, showing him a video on your phone. He’ll nod and laugh, be attentive and ask follow up questions so you know he’s actually paying attention. You’re pressed close to him, his arm over your shoulders, your legs over his, bodies pressed so close together, it’s a wonder you two haven’t melded into one. Even if his screen makes certain things difficult, it doesn’t stop you from seeking him out. Despite how malicious he can be, you return to him, you adore how he talks sweetly to you, how he calls you his one and only, his dear, his sweetheart. 

#hazbin hotel #hazbin vox #hazbin hotel vox #vox headcanons #vox x reader #hazbin vox x reader #i like the characters of the show #i think the designs are silly #like in a good way #i mean they're like all thin #but they're fun #i really like the songs #i like a lot of the awful characters #like valentino is kinda #but ya know #im also really into adam #i think he sucks #like he’s the absolute worst #but alex brightman has a voice that could make anyone fall in love #you know i got a few requests for nullified quirk #i never knew what to do with it #like would it be healing? or world it be more trauma #so its there #like i wanna do it because it was nice to write it #but idk what direction i would take it in

[keymintt]

i’m sure this has been at least mentioned before but one of the things that’s so fucking funny to me abt kim is that, for all the shit he gives you (harry) when you try to get him to dance or wear the piss jacket, he actually wants to do those things to some extent

over the course of the game you can’t get him (or other characters for that matter) to do things he doesn’t want to do. disco elysium isn’t a power fantasy game like that. don’t get me wrong some things he needs to be convinced/challenged for, but he can and does outright Refuse things at times like when you suggest getting on the kineema and cutting the body down from there, not going into the tent with the ravers, or not climbing up the shitty feld building ladder, etc. and there are also definitely moments when he reluctantly puts up with harry/the player’s antics bc harry’s persistent and it’ll just put a quicker end to things to be like, “yeah sure fine i’ll eat the sandwich“ or, “i'll spare you another *20 hour mind-project*— yes, i am”

when you really badger him into dancing in the church and pass the authority check, he of course puts up some resistance but then goes, “now check *this* shit out!“ and starts busting it down! if he was reluctant to dance, he’d totally just do some stupid lil shimmy to appease harry with the same enthusiasm of, “oh god more cryptids” but no! he starts “heel kick[ing] the church floor with such intensity, it’s reasonable to fear he’ll kick a hole right through it“ he had those moves Locked And Loaded, but it’s not like he was gonna bust them out oh god no, then harry pulls his rank on him and he thinks “well everyone else here can see that the guy making a bigger fool of himself is ordering me to do it so i guess it’s okay for me to“

(thinking abt that, there’s prolly something to also say there abt music being a sort of outlet for kim. in my brain the anodic dance music and the shit speedfreaks fm plays have more in common than not, but kim also strikes me as somewhat of a music snob about that sort of stuff so. i dunno)

and then the pissfaggot jacket! when you’re trying to convince him to put it on he essentially says “you’re gonna keep bothering me about this no matter what“ but at the end of the interaction he still puts the jacket on and keeps it on! “the first chance i get, this thing’s coming off“ yeah right, the first chance he had was immediately after putting it on, harry clearly doesn’t give a shit if kim leaves him hanging fashion-wise, he’s the one who puts on the fuck the world jacket first! and once harry takes off the fuck jacket, the piss jacket is gone too, so it basically boils down to “as long as i’m following around this guy who’s making a bigger fool of himself, i can do this thing that i wanted to do got coerced into going along with“ 

kim’s also like “it really *does* look cool to have both of these jackets on right now“ once he puts it on like who are you kidding bro. your lame ass wanted this. sure he wanted to be a jackass and take the jackets but he also confiscated those hubcaps because they were cool and he was gonna eventually install them, was he not gonna steal the jacket to wear it?

he has his pristine little Image to uphold so he’ll only do things he wants to do if it looks like he’s being forced to and/or he won’t be the biggest fool in the room because god forbid he expresses himself. there’s plenty of deeper analysis here in conjunction with how he relishes in having control over his desires and how harry’s someone who can get him to break his rigid self-control and let loose a bit, but for me it just boils down to:

he’s so fucking lame and it’s so fucking funny

#he has things wrong with him <3 #disco elysium #kim kitsuragi #kim disco elysium #i hope this like. makes sense. i'm more of a fanart guy i don't ever really write out the analytical thoughts i have hkfghls #IF this even counts as analysis either #but nevertheless i had an Impulse #feel free to add to this too or like. debate it idc i'm interested #also hi. i'm talking on here actually #no i won't shut up #<talking tag #greatest hits

[steveshairychest]

Fashion designer Steve, who accepts a contract to have Rockstar Eddie Munson wear his designs in the latest addition of vogue, but the thing is, he hates Eddie. Hates his cocky smile, his music, the way he called Steve 'doll' the first time they met at some celebrity's birthday party made his skin crawl. But Steve isn't stupid. Eddie's hot, popular and Steve's latest line would look amazing on him. This is the only reason he accepts the deal. If people saw Eddie wearing his designs, they would buy them. Plain and simple.

Steve spends all morning before the shoot dreading having to deal with loud, obnoxious Eddie Munson. He chain smokes on the roof of his studio and tries to remind himself of all the pros of this shoot, of how influential Eddie is. The cons are way longer than the pros.

It's barely past 8am when the studio doors open and in walks the cause of his current headache, but there's something different about this man nervously walking into his studio to the one he's so used to seeing and avoiding at parties. There's no dramatic entrance, no tight leather pants and way too much eye-liner. There's just this... guy. He's in fucking sweatpants and what looks like a pyjama shirt that's been worn way too much, and his hair is tied up in a loose bun that shows off all the earrings he isn't wearing.

"Hi, I'm Eddie." He sticks out his hand politely for a hand shake and Steve is so shocked. He may have squeezed his hand a bit too tightly. "I'm super excited for the shoot! I love your designs." He's smiling at Steve but it's soft, genuine, gentle. It lacks the severity, the cockiness of the smiles he's seen before.

"Uh, thanks." Steve says dumbly and just walks away to the rack of clothes he has picked out for Eddie. "It's just me and you today. Is that okay with you? I work better when it's just me and the model." Steve takes all of his own photos, makes all his designs, does all the make-up and set design. In this industry, he's learned that if you want something done right, you need to do it yourself.

When Steve turns back around, Eddie is standing in the middle of the studio, awkwardly twisting the fabric of his shirt while rocking back onto the balls of his feet. "Yep, that's cool. It's totally cool. Cool as." His cheeks are bright red and he keeps looking around the empty studio, looking anywhere but at Steve.

"Are you nervous?" Steve asks. Nervous and Eddie Munson don't seem like two things that go together in Steve's mind. He's seen Eddie walk out onto a stage in front of thousands of people and thrust against a microphone while singing about sex. But doing a shoot alone with Steve makes him nervous?

"Yeah, you could say I'm a little nervous." He chuckles awkwardly and twirls a loose strand of hair that has fallen from the bun. "I've kind of always wanted to do a shoot with you and I'm terrified I'm going to fuck it up."

That's.. not what Steve was expecting.

"Oh." He says simply, not quite sure what to say to something like that.

"Did I just fuck it up?" Eddie drops the piece of hair and the absolute horror on his face causes Steve to smile.

He shakes his head and hands Eddie an armful of clothes. "Go get changed, pretty boy. You haven't fucked up, if anything you've just secured a permanent spot on my roster." He looks Eddie up and down once. "I like this version of you."

Eddie laughs. "You like my pyjamas?"

"No, you. You seem more real, less, no offence, douchey."

Eddie shrugs and nods in agreement, a few more strands of brown curls fall free. Steve will have to fix that. He wants Eddie's hair up for the shoot. He wants to be able to see every facial expression when Steve tells him how good he is. At posing, that is.

"Being a regular dude isn't what sells albums, unfortunately. So, I've gotta play the part. I've gotta sell sex and make myself seem otherworldly, untouchable, so that people will want me, want my music." He says this with a shrug, acts like it's just a casual thing to say. Steve can see that it's more than that though, can see how much Eddie dislikes having to play pretend to get people to like him.

He nods over to the small dressing room. "You don't have to be anyone else today. I just want Eddie. Only wear what you're comfortable in. I'll order us some breakfast, yeah?" He tries to make Eddie feel comfortable, tries to release some of the tension that had settled in the air by being friendly, a lot friendlier than he normally is with celebrity models. He usually tries to keep a distance from them.

"Pizza?" Eddie asks hopefully.

Steve scrunches up his nose and raises an eyebrow in question. "For breakfast? Really?" That didn't surprise him at all. Eddie's a rockstar. He's probably never had a balanced meal in his life.

Steve ignores the little voice in his head that whispers I could cook for him, make sure he's eating well and looking after himself.

"Yes, really. Extra anchovies, please."

"I've changed my mind. You've fucked it up. Go home."

Steve hears Eddie cackle as he slams the dressing room door shut and it's a surprisingly nice sound. Not as grating and obnoxious as the fake laugh he'd been subjected to at a party last year, it's a warm, almost melodic sound and it makes Steve's lips twitch into a smile.

Maybe this shoot won't be as torturous as he'd thought it would be.

#ITS CHRISTMAS EVE HERES A LITTLE PRESENT #steddie #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things s4 #steve harrington #silly goofy rockstar eddie #steveddie

[bloatedandalone04]

Wrapped Around Your Finger - Part 1.5

Series Masterlist | Original Fic

➪in which anakin and the guys are granted a break, but that still didn’t give him any hope that he could actually fix things between you and him - but that also didn’t stop him from trying.

PSA: strongly suggested to read the warnings before proceeding.

WC; 3.2k | Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡ | THANK YOU FOR 4.6K FOLLOWERS

Anakin was sitting quietly on the couch as he half listened to Theo and Helena talk at the table on the bus. 

They had been discussing something in hushed whispers for a while now, but Anakin still had no idea what they were talking about. He couldn’t focus on anything right now as he scrolled through the text thread he has with you, his expression one of misery and agony. 

He knew you were back in LA by now. You had to be. You were probably packing your things as he sits and lets his eyes flicker between his bandmate and manager. 

Anakin had left you so many messages by now, and you haven’t replied to a single one. He felt pathetic and worthless, and he hated himself. 

He dropped his phone with a huff, instead deciding to trace his index finger along your handwriting on his wrist. It can’t be over between the two of you. It just couldn’t be. You were everything to him, his entire world. How was he supposed to do this without you? 

“Helena, please, just a few weeks,” Theo begged, and Helena sighed as she rubbed her forehead harshly. “My sister just told me that our mom is getting worse. I can’t let her go through that by herself anymore. I can’t not be there for them anymore. Please.”

Anakin’s mood deteriorated further at his friend’s pleas, and he wished there was something he could do for Theo, but he can’t even fix his own mess. “I know, Theo, I know,” Helena mumbled, standing up and rummaging around in her bag. “I’ve been trying to get this thing pushed back ever since you know who decided to touch broody over there.”

The not so subtle dig had Anakin rolling his eyes and picking at the threads on the blanket he threw over his lap. “Well, can you?” Theo asked desperately. “Get it pushed back? Just a few weeks. I need to be there if my mom-” he cut himself off as he refused to say it out loud. 

Anakin felt tears prick at his eyes as he stared at the floor. His heart ached for Theo, and it ached even worse for you. How had things gotten this bad? Just to make things that much more tragic, it seems like Clara and Vinny’s relationship was on its way out, too. She had left last night on a flight back home, and Vinny hasn’t been out of bed ever since. 

Seriously, how the fuck had things gotten this bad?

Helena looked at Theo with poorly concealed pity, and she sighed as she ran her hands through her hair. “Okay, Liz’s contract will end soon, and I think I’ll be able to get the next few weeks pushed back, so she won’t be welcomed back on the tour once things go back to normal,” she started, sitting back down at the table and looking between Theo and Anakin. “So that might help fix his problem.”

She gestured over to Anakin, and he just scoffed, wondering why she was talking about him like he wasn’t sitting less than three feet from her. 

“I think I can have all of you on flights back home by the end of the week, I just need to make a few calls,” she stated and Anakin’s scowl disappeared almost instantly. 

“What?” He asked in disbelief as Theo made a beeline to his bunk to begin packing. “Really?”

Helena nodded, flipping through a notebook with various names and phone numbers in it. She was old fashioned that way, despite being not much older than Anakin. “Don’t quote me on that, but I think I can do it,” 

Anakin sprung up, the blanket falling to the floor as he pulled her out of the chair and wrapped his arms around her. “Thank you,” he rasped, aware that she might not be able to get the tour pushed back, but she was going to try, and that’s what counted. “I owe you. For everything.”

Helena huffed quietly, pulling away to look him in the eye. “We’re a team, Anakin. You guys are like my family at this point,” she murmured and Anakin felt more tears gather in his eyes. “You know I’ll try to do anything I can for you three.”

“I know,” he whispered, “Still, thank you.” 

The next morning, after Anakin got about an hour and a half of sleep, he was waiting anxiously to hear if Helena had managed to get the tour postponed. He was sure Theo had been up all night, too, if the way he couldn’t seem to get comfortable in his bunk across from Anakin’s was anything to go by. 

When she announced that she was able to push the tour back a few weeks, Anakin booked the first flight back to LA and had Theo beside him on the plane. Vinny was in no rush to go back, so he decided to stay behind for a few more days. 

Anakin had sent you a quick text before he boarded the plane, which read, 

I’m coming home. I’m going to fix everything, I promise, Princess. I love you so much. 

And when he got into an Uber after the flight, he saw that you had read his text, but didn’t reply. That was the first text of his that you had read, and as pathetic as it sounded, it gave him hope. 

Theo was in the car with him since they had decided to ride together. He lived a few minutes away from yours and Anakin’s apartment, so he would be dropped off after Anakin. He didn’t even care that Theo would involuntarily be listening to the voicemail Anakin is forced to leave you as you had once again ignored his call. “Baby, it’s me,” he started, glancing over at his friend and feeling grateful for the way Theo turned his body towards the window so Anakin could have at least a little bit of privacy in the car. “I’m ten minutes away from our place. I’m so sorry, for everything.”

He ended it after that, even though he had so much more to say. He wanted to save himself the embarrassment of pouring his heart out to you over the phone, just to have you delete it without even listening to it. 

When the car pulled up outside the apartment complex, Anakin reached over and hugged Theo. “I hope things get better for you and Mary and your mom,” he mumbled, hearing Theo sniff quietly in response as he tried to hold off tears. “Text me if you need anything, okay? I mean it.”

Theo nodded and pulled away. “Same to you,” he says with a forced smile. “Y/n will forgive you. You’ve been together for too long to just give up on it now.” 

Anakin returned a half smile, squeezing his friend’s shoulder before grabbing his bag and getting out of the car. He watched it pull away from the curb as his hand dug around in his bag for his keys, and he almost cried when he finally found them. He hadn’t used them in so long, and he was hit with the memory of the last time he was here. It was the day he left for the tour with you by his side. 

If he could go back and do it again but better, he would in a heartbeat. But he couldn’t. He just had to deal with the consequences now. 

Anakin blinked a few times as he entered the lobby and headed right over to the elevators, taking one all the way up to the fifteenth floor as he tried to think of what to say to you. 

Would you even be there? Did you read his last text and flee the second he got on that plane? God, he hoped not. 

He was a shaky, sweaty mess as he reached the floor you and he lived on, and his nerves were slowly taking over as he neared the door. Anakin couldn’t believe how nervous he was about entering his own apartment and facing you, the girl he’s loved for five years now. It had never been like that with you. Ever.

As he stuck the key in the lock and turned it, his heart felt like it was going to beat out of his chest. He hadn’t seen you since that night in the dressing room nearly four days ago. He had so much to make up for, so much to apologize for, and he could only hope that you would listen.

When he pushed the door open and stepped inside the quiet apartment, his heart fell at how dark it was. He was sure you weren’t home and hadn’t been for a while, but then he heard some movement to his left, and he dropped his bag instantly and entered the living room. “Princess,” he whispered when he saw you sitting on the couch, your old Uni hoodie covering your upper half while a blanket covered the rest of you. 

Your hair was tied back and your eyes were sad and empty, and when you looked up at him, you dropped your phone onto your lap with a quiet huff. “Oh, you actually were ten minutes away,” you mumbled. “I thought you were lying.”

Anakin shook his head as he scanned the dark living room. It looked like you had been living in here since you got home. Water bottles, your mugs he teased you about on the day you moved in, and cracker boxes were scattered on the coffee table he and Vinny put together. “Why…why would I lie about that?” He rasped, stepping further into the room. “Why would I lie to you?”

You tore your eyes away from him and shrugged. “Because you’ve done it before,” you simply answered, looking back up at him with tears in your eyes. “You said you loved me. And that I was the person you wanted forever.”

“Baby,” he gasped and made it over to you in three strides. 

“Why are you home, Anakin?” You asked, making him stop a few centimeters away from the couch. And you. “Why are you here?”

Anakin felt hopeless and on edge. How was he supposed to fix this when he didn’t know where to start? “Because I love you. And I want you forever. Just you,” he answered. “I never lied about that.”

You bite down onto your lip and reach up to wipe at your eyes with your sleeves. “Um, Kenneth read my short story. I finished it on the flight back to London,” you tell him and he stood still, letting you say what you needed to. “He loved it. Um, he wants to get it published.”

“Y/n,” he said quietly, feeling so proud of you even though he was also feeling terrified. “That’s awesome, baby.”

You drop your hand onto your lap and look up at him with a heartbroken expression. “It’s about you,” you confess. “About us. About…how much I love you and…it’s our story, Anakin.”

Anakin’s shoulders dropped at that. You were so sweet and kind and too fucking good for him. He never deserved you. “Then publish it,” he mumbled, his own eyes welling up with tears. 

“I can’t,” you cry, covering your face with your hands. “It’s too much. It reminds me of us too much, and I don’t even know what we are anymore.”

He squeezed his eyes shut and dropped his head, unsure of what to say to that. How does he make this better? “I’m yours,” was all he could come up with. “Even if you’re not mine anymore.” 

Those words physically pained him to say, and they only made you more upset. “Fuck, Ani,” your voice broke as you called him the name he only ever let you call him. “Why are you back?”

Anakin cleared his throat and pressed the heel of his hand against his eyes. “Theo’s mom…she got worse and they don’t know if she’ll be okay or if she’ll make it,” he whispered, knowing that his friend wouldn’t be mad he told you that. Theo was your friend, too, after all. 

Your eyes widened at that and you sat up, sniffling as you began looking for your phone. “That’s…that..” you trailed off as you lifted the blanket and grabbed your phone. “I should call him. I should..call him and..” 

You were becoming less and less in control of yourself, and Anakin could see the way you were getting yourself worked up. “Hey,” he mumbled, grabbing your wrist as you started to stand up. “Hey, it’s okay. It’s okay.”

“It’s not,” you whispered and he saw tears roll down your face again. “Why wasn’t I good enough for you? What could I have done?”

A broken gasp left his lips and Anakin fell onto the couch next to you, pulling your body into his arms as you cried against his neck. “You’re enough,” he promised, cradling the back of your head and holding you tight. “You’re more than enough. Baby, you’re…you’re everything to me. My whole world. I’m so fucking sorry for what I did, for what I allowed to happen.”

You cried harder against him, bunching up the fabric of his shirt in your fists. 

“I should’ve been there for you. I should’ve been there to support you,” he mumbled against the top of your head. “I’m so proud of you, of everything you’ve done. I’m sorry if you feel like you can’t bring yourself to get your story published because of me. I don’t want you to hold yourself back because of me.”

You cling onto him and lift your head. “I don’t know what to do, Ani,” you sobbed. “Please, tell me what I should do. Please.”

He could see just how much you needed help, and how you needed to be guided right now. And he would help you for as long as you needed, even if it ended up with you kicking him out afterwards. “What will make you feel better? Do you want me to leave? I can give you some space or time or-”

“No, I don’t want that,” you shake your head and crawl onto his lap. 

“What do you want, princess?” He desperately asked. “What can I do?”

“I want things to go back to how they were,” you cried. “I want to feel like I did before when I look at you. It hurts, Ani. I can’t do this anymore.” 

Tears fell from his eyes and landed in your hair as he held you impossibly closer. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I love you. I’m sorry.”

You were shaking against him and he felt terrible. This was all his fault. “I want to hurt her,” you mumbled. “I hate her. I fucking hate her, Ani. I hate her for what she did to you.” 

“I hate her, too,” he pathetically agreed and you lift your head. 

“What are we going to do, Anakin?” 

He lifted his hand and smoothed out your messy hair, trailing his thumb down to your lip afterwards. “That depends,” he murmured. “Do you still want me? Could you ever forgive me?” 

You brace your hands on his shoulders and nod. “Maybe…eventually,” you answer. “I still want you.”

A breath of relief left his mouth, but he still wasn’t happy with himself. “I’m back home for a couple weeks, and I’m going to spend every single day making this up to you,” he promised. 

“Then you’re back on tour?” You quietly asked and looked down. “With her?”

“No,” he said quickly. “Helena said something about pressing charges before I came here, and I might go through with it. She won’t be there, I promise. She’ll never be around me or you or us again.” 

“Do it,” you encourage, grabbing the hair on the back of his neck with shaky fingers. “I don’t want her near you ever again. I hate her so much.”

“Yeah, I can tell,” his lips curved upwards just slightly as he gently massaged your hips. “That was quite the nose job you gave her.”

You laugh quietly, lifting your gaze to meet his. “I need to know that it was a mistake, Anakin,” you went back to being serious. “If you felt anything for her, even a little bit at all, I’m out.”

Anakin panicked and shook his head. “Never. I never felt anything for her,” he assured you. “She means nothing to me at all. You’re my girl, the one I want to be with for the rest of my life. I’ve known that since I was seventeen years old.”

You nod, trailing your fingers through his hair. “You promise?” You asked and he nodded instantly. “Okay…okay. Ani, these next couple weeks…I need this to be okay. Maybe not completely fixed, but…okay.”

“I’ll fix everything,” he swore, pulling you against his body again. “I promise you, I’m going to make everything okay again. I love you so much. I always will, you’re it for me. My one and only.”

You give him a small smile, tracing your fingers along his cheek before leaning up and kissing his jaw. “I love you,” 

Hearing you say that had his heart skipping a beat. “I’m so sorry. I’m going to fix this,”

Anakin kisses you all over your face before letting you sit in his lap for as long as you wanted to.

It wasn’t okay, what he did. He knew that. But he was going to make damn sure that he made everything right again. He had to.

-

Three weeks later…

Being back on stage after the brief break Anakin was given felt great. 

He loved being on stage, loved the lights and the screams of fans and the feeling he got from it all.

But it wasn’t what had him feeling so happy right now. 

Theo’s mom had pulled through and was getting better by the day, and was able to stay awake for most of the day now. When she regained control of her voice, she practically forced Theo to go back and finish the tour, and told him that she would be there when it was over. 

Vinny and Clara broke up, but are still friends, and Vinny decided to focus on music and the band. He had even started writing a few songs about the experience that he couldn’t wait to get out there. 

And as for Anakin, he was getting ready for a court date that was set for a few months from now. He did press charges against Liz, and though she claimed she was going to fight it, he knew he had a whole team behind him. There was no way she was winning this thing. 

And you. His sweet, beautiful and smart girlfriend. Well, he was gaining your trust back more and more as the days went on. You allowed Kenneth to send your story to his publisher, and it would be released by the end of the year. 

He was so proud of you, and when he began singing the first verse of Wrapped Around Your Finger, he glanced over to his right and saw you standing next to Helena backstage, a smile gracing your lips and the red rose he had given you before going on stage in your hand. He knew you were proud of him, too. 

And he knew things would be okay.

-

Goodbye, my Rockstar and Booknerd. Til we meet again.

Thank you to everyone who read and followed along with this series. I loved writing it so much ! And thank you to my sweets, @everydaydreamer for the original fic idea. Who would’ve thought we’d end up here?

#hayden christensen imagine #hayden christensen #hayden christensen edit #hayden christensen gif #anakin skywalker #hayden christensen icons #anakin skywalker imagine #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker smut #star wars anakin #anakin star wars #anakin fanfiction #tcw anakin #sw anakin #anakin x you #anakin smut #anakin skywalker fanfiction #anakin x reader #anakin skywalker imagines #rocker anakin skywalker #rocker anakin #wrapped around your finger au #wrapped around your finger

[muzanswaifu]

Alpha!Rengoku x Omega!Fem!Reader

Warnings: Smut, fluff, a/b/o, alpha/omega, sexist, misogyny, gender-roles, yandere-ish, obsessive, lowkey harassment, dub-con, heat, rut, breeding kink, knotting

KNOCTOBER BITCHES

A/B/OCTOBER 😈🍆

Okay this is just a little drabble after going on that rant ab wanting more abo demon slayer content but wouldn't Rengoku make the perfect alpha?

Okay not peeeeerfect, but you catch my drift, he'd definitely be the type of alpha to think that omegas need to be taken care of by a proper alpha and that omegas are too small and delicate to defend themself, his ideals a product of his old fashioned upbringing

So imagine his surprise when he meets you, an independent, doesn't-take-shit-from-nobody omega who couldn't care less that dangerous people lurk about in all corners of the world

Given, you do work at a small little cafe in a pretty nice part of town, but it still worries him how carelessly you walk around with no protection, a beautiful omega such as yourself should be mated already and kept under the protection of an alpha who can support you financially and physically

You take his lecture of such things... less than kindly, kicking him out the cafe angrily and yelling at him to never come back, he's upset by it but grateful for the opportunity to take in your scent, such a delicious one that has him feeling light-headed and dopey

For the following months, he makes sure to stop by the shop every now and again and at closing time to make sure you're ok, you get quite angry when you see him but he finds it endearing, he especially enjoys getting to know you and how you came to be so liberated

It's a few weeks in when he starts to notice the subtle change in your scent, far sweeter and growing in strength, and not just that, your sweatier too, skin glowing a bright red as he walks you home, when you snap at him to leave you the hell alone, it just makes him more worried, but he's glad he kept you company tonight, especially when four suspicious individuals emerge from the alleyways throwing slurs at you

omega slut

filthy bitch

heat girl

You stop him from tearing them apart, instead fiddling with your purse to whip out a can of pepper spray and promptly blasting them, Kyojuro takes your hand and flees from the scene before the second-smoke can hit your eyes

Thankfully he knows the way to your house as you're essentially useless with how woozy you are, and rushes you through the door and onto the couch, sitting you down on his lap, he feels your forehead for temperature, boiling hot

Clearly you must have some sort of illness, possibly the flu, he expresses his theory to you which prompts a slow shake of your head before droplets of tears pool down your cheeks and you start to sob, panicked he tries to console you, promising to get you some medicine until he pauses with the wetness that soaks through his pants, he flinches away thinking you've pissed yourself until the sweet smell finally hits him

O god, he realizes, you're in heat

You seem to sob harder as you see the realized expression on his face, screaming at him to get out, but he's frozen in place, his own instincts coiling around him and taking hold of his thoughts

Take. Breed. Mate.

Take. Breed. Mate.

He swallows the urges down, pulling you closer and promising it'll be alright, he at least needs to stay to ensure you're alright (even if he can't have you)

You settle down quickly, dozing off into his chest as your hands knead at his chest like a little kitten, if he listens closely he can hear you purr in your throat, eventually you mutter at him, something about taking you to your nest, god just hearing it nearly breaks his self-control but he forces himself to comply, to be the good alpha he holds himself up to be

He holds his breath as soon as he enters the room, shutting his eyes closed as well to get away from the absolutely perfect nest you've crafted, so soft and fluffy that he has no doubt you'd be able to raise several pups in it without a flaw

But being the self-assured omega you are, you tug at the man until he falls into the nest with you, you quickly crawling about to reposition the blankets and pillows around the two of you until you're caged in

As you lay on top of him, your pants soaked through and dripping onto him, he realizes he can't do this anymore, he doesn't trust himself enough to not rut you if he stays, he has to leave, but you trap him in, growling each time he tries to leave or excuse himself

When your irritation bubbles over and you actually bite his neck, right near his scent gland, he can feel the exact moment when he loses himself

You yelp as he flips you over, his neck quickly buried against yours as he begins to scent you, aggressively, He expects you to fight him as he starts tears both of your clothes off but gets the opposite reaction as you whine and wrap your legs around him to hump at his growing bulge

He makes sure to scent every part of you, ignoring you cries at him to bitch you, he takes specially care at the sex of you with which he takes deep, gulping breaths, relishing your delicious scent and how much slick is rushing out of you, it tastes even better than expected, sweeter than the fruit of life and far more quenching as he drinks you in like he's starved, your pathetic whines increase tenfold as you cross your legs behind his head in some search of relief for the pit that growing in your stomach, but even as you come, in less than a minute he might add, the pains and cramps only increase, your stupid, omega instincts in search for the one thing that can ease your suffering - his knot

You beg at him to knot you and give you pups, so many that it makes you sick, you want his cum, all of it, you want it so bad it hurts, it makes you sob when he ignores your pleas, continuing to lick and suck at your gushing cunt like it's all he'll ever need, but you catch him off guard when you kick him back, throwing him on his back and earning a harsh growl from him that makes your omega cringe in submission, but you push past it, crawling between his legs and salivating at the perfect length that bobs in front of you

You can see the knot forming at the base already, hot and throbbing as it pulses with his every breath, you can't stop yourself from leaning forward and nuzzling into it, happily breathing in the strong scent of his musk that such a strong alpha can produce, you hear him groan when you take one of his balls into your mouth, wanting to get him properly pent up so he'd be able to breed you for hours, you rotate between the two, occasionally breaking off to suck and kiss at his knot

When he finally grows impatient, you give in completely to his hold when he tears you away from his cock to throw you into a breeding position, face down and ass up, a dumb smile on your face, as his massive length pushes into you with one quick thrust

He fucks hard and fast, pounding you harshly into the bed and messing up the perfect positioning of your nest, but you can't bring yourself to care as your needs are met with each powerful thrust into your pussy

You sob as his knot begins to push into you, your breath ceasing as you wait for the moment it finally locks inside of you, and when it does catch, your hormones force you into the most powerful orgasm you've ever experienced, the high bleeds on as his seed spills inside of you, filling out your belly in hot gushes and making you drool into the sheets, clenching yourself on repeat to milk him of what you need

His head clears slightly with the orgasm, his eyes focusing with the adrenaline rush, he almost feels guilt at the sight of you bruised and smushed underneath him until his hears your babblings of fill me up, alpha, please, alpha, need it, give me more

And just like that he's hard again, a fresh rush of cum sloshing into your belly thickly, your tongue spilling out to pant

It becomes a blur of fucking, knotting, breeding, somehow you both manage not to mark each other's necks but that doesn't stop either of you from rutting each other's brains out, milking every knot until you can't even move anymore, too sore to ride him or even move your hips as he uses your cunt like a cocksleeve, slamming your hips down on his while he lays down for a much needed rest, when you inevitable whimper from need for reprieve, his teeth graze upon neck, framing your throat in a wordless threat to rip it out unless you stayed put

But your body was weak, succumbing to unconsciousness the moment his knot popped into you again to empty his balls

You didn't mean to go into heat, you took every damn suppressant and pill that existed to avoid it and its always worked

until an alpha barged into your life and insisted he keep you company with his big, stupid muscles and bright, stupid hair

God, you hope your pups had his hair, oh god you want them all to be exactly like him - pretty, strong, and smiley

Even unconscious you can feel how warm and thick his sperm is inside your tummy, you brain praying that you birth control was effective while your body prays that his seed takes and makes you a momma

Oh god, please don't take.

#demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer smut #kimetsu no yaiba smut #kny #kny smut #demon slayer x y/n #demon slayer x female reader #demon slayer x reader #kny x reader #kny rengoku #rengoku kyoujuro smut #rengoku smut #rengoku kyojurou #demon slayer rengoku #rengoku kny #rengoku #rengoku kyojuro #kyojuro rengoku #kyojurou #kyojurou rengoku #yandere kyojuro #kimetsu kyojuro #kyojuro x you #kyojuro smut #kyojuro x y/n #kny kyojuro #demon slayer kyojuro #rengoku x you #smut

[luveline]

Maybe colt comforting reader when things for her film aren’t going right 🫶🏽🫶🏽

Colt comes to your rescue (clumsily) when you have a hard day. fem!reader, 1k words

Very minor plot spoilers for The Fall Guy (2024) if any

“I think he’s mad at you.” 

You pause where you’d been scrubbing your eyes with your hands, though you don’t look at him. Colt Seavers seems to follow you everywhere you go, and consequently plays witness to your many breakdowns. “Thanks, Colt. That’s astute.” 

“Are you mad at me? Why are you mad at me? It’s been ten seconds,” he complains. He has a unique talent for sounding flirty and needy at once. 

“No, Colt. I’m tired, it’s been a long day.” 

Colt is grinning when you meet his eyes. He has blood, fake or real undetermined, drying in the scruff of his facial hair. You gesture to yourself in a slow circle in the approximate area, to which Colt smiles again. 

“You look perfect,” he says confidently. 

“You have blood in your beard.” 

“Oh, right.” 

You sigh heavily, taking the few paces back to a stack of safety mattresses for a quick break. You’ll get up and help whoever needs helping as soon as you can feel your toes. Colt stays where he is, squinting against the sun, strands of blonde ends kissing his tan forehead. The summer shoots are good for him, he always looks so beachy. You’re exhausted all the time. 

As he notices. “Are you getting enough sleep?” he asks. 

“Yeah.” 

“‘Cos I was sleeping badly and then I got this new mattress that has four hybrid layers, there’s a foam layer, and then there’s titanium springs,” —he sees your distant expression and his own flickers— “anyways, you could try it if you want. Test it out with me. Or– Not with me. With me if you want. We’d have fun. But not with me if you don’t want to.” 

You’d laugh if you had the energy. “Do you wanna sit down?” you ask. 

“God, yes, please.” 

He has another talent for being insanely handsome no matter the day. You look like you’ve been badly rewarmed before serving, where he looks like he rolled out of bed with a smile. He’s smiling at you now, the foolish kind that’ll fluster you if you let him do it for too long. “Stop,” you say quietly. 

“You’re doing amazing.” 

“Thank you. You’re the only person who thinks so, unfortunately.” 

You smile at him weakly. Worried you look pathetic, you turn your face to your lap and clasp your fingers together. 

“That’s not true. Mayview is old-fashioned, that’s all, he was around when they were still killing horses on TV.” 

You grimace. “Yikes.”

“But it’s the modern era. He doesn’t get to make you feel like shit, or I’ll make him feel like shit.” He pretends to charge a sucker punch. 

You lean forward a touch, not quite hugging your knees but tempted to fold in on yourself nonetheless, the heat of the sun a memory on your neck as the evening begins and cloud cover floods in. 

The safety mattresses beneath you squeak and shush against each other. Your weight and Colt’s slides together slowly. He might be pushing himself a little with his boot, but you pretend not to notice as his hand comes to rest between your shoulders. 

“I just can’t do anything right,” you mumble. 

As soon as you’ve said it you’re hoping he can’t hear you, but he does. He might have injured pretty much anything that can be fractured, sprained, or just plain broken, but he has stellar hearing. “You do everything right. You do!” he says, quietly and passionately at once, “They don’t realise it, but you’re the glue keeping this whole thing together.” 

“What are you?” you ask, bemused.

His hand is warm on your shoulder, unafraid where he hesitates to answer, “I don’t know. The test dummy? The guy who gets set on fire a lot?” 

“How is that?” 

“Warm,” he says, beaming, his face so unexpectedly close that you can see the glucose shining in the blood on his cheek. Fake blood. “You wanna try it? I’m sure I could convince the guys.” 

“No, I’m okay.” 

His voice turns silky. “Good, I wasn’t gonna let you anyway.” 

“Let me?” 

“You could get hurt.”

You give in, melted maybe by his warm tones, or exhausted by a day of playing mom for a director who can barely tell his left from his right. Your face presses to his shoulder and your spine sags under his hand, prompting Colt to pull you flush against his side. He always waits for your signals for stuff like this, no matter how desperate he might confess to being. “Can you make them all leave me alone?” you mumble into his jacket, the fabric rough against your nose. 

“Obviously I can, but… We could run away.” 

“Where would we go?” 

“I don’t know. Somewhere sunny. You can rub sunblock on my back, I can hold the umbrella over your head while you read.” 

“They have stands for that sort of stuff. Or you can shove it in the sand, you know.”

“I wanna do something nice for you,” he interrupts, the sound of a smile in his voice as he gives you a friendly jostle. “That’s the point.” 

“You’re plenty nice, Colt.” 

And he is. He saw you were upset and he came jogging upto you valiantly, and your side-armed cuddle is really pushing the pep back into your life. You take a few deep breaths under the weight of his arm before turning to him, brave, ready to go back to work if it means he’s gonna drive you home tonight. “Thank you for caring.” You kiss his cheek, careful of the fake blood. “You’re super nice.” 

You miss the heat of him the second you stand, but there really is work to do. 

“I’m super nice?” he calls. “How nice is super? Nice enough to get another one of those, or what? Are they by the metre?” 

You bite back a smile. 

“Hello? Can you hear me?” He must catch someone’s eye. “She can’t hear me. It’s cool. We like each other.” 

Nobody saves face quite like Colt. 

#colt seavers #colt seavers x reader #colt seavers x fem!reader #colt seavers x y/n #colt seavers x you #colt seavers fic #colt seavers fluff #the fall guy #the fall guy x reader #the fall guy fanfiction #the fall guy 2024 #the fall guy fic #colt seavers blurb #colt seavers drabble #colt seavers imagine #colt seavers fanfic #colt seavers fanfiction #colt seavers scenario #colt seavers oneshot #The fall guy spoilers

[chlorinecake]

“I cherish you” | N.RK ff ༄

༄ Last year’s Valentine’s Day marked the day you and your boyfriend Riki first starting dating. Ever since then, he spoils you on the 14th day of every month in honor of your love story…

🍒 pairing bf!nishimura riki x fem!reader genre romance, fluff 🍒

༄ wc 1.1k ~ written with black reader in mind ~ requested !

You found your boyfriend in your shared apartment bathroom doing his typical morning routine. You walked up behind him, snaking your hands beneath his shirt to pull him closer. Pressing your cheek against his back, you could smell a new body wash he must’ve used. Or maybe it was cologne?

“Morning,” Riki mumbled through a mouthful of minty foam, wiping his mouth before turning to kiss the top of your head.

“Good morning,” you returned warmly.

He ran a clawed hand through your hair before his fingers got caught in your curls. You winced at the sudden tug before giggling at the worried expression that waved over Riki’s face.

“Sorry, baby! Did I hurt you?”

“No, Riki, but you did remind me that I need to comb my hair,” you smiled, freeing him from your clingy grasp.

You searched through the bathroom drawer for a few products to style your hair. In the meantime, your boyfriend was busy lathering his face with shaving cream.

“Uh,” you started confused, “what’re you doing?”

“Prepping to shave my beard.”

You snorted, “Your what?”

“I’m not as young as I was when we first met, y’know? This is what men do.”

“Mhm, and who told you that?”

“Heeseung-hyung. He’s one of the best people I can go to for advice. Especially with girls.”

“Oh, so you’re a man and I’m just a girl?”

“For now, yes. Though, maybe in a few years I’ll make you my woman if you stick around long enough,” he winked, making you cringe but in a loving way.

“Hey, I wanna try,” you chirped, snatching the razor from his hand.

“Woah, ____! Did you forget there’s a sharp blade on that thing?”

“Oh, c’mon! You’re a man now, remember? Don’t tell me you’re scared of your girlfriend.”

He shook his head at your teasing, “only when she’s on her period… that’s when she get's really crazy.”

You nudged him in the shoulder, making him giggle.

“Okay, now hold still,” you said, guiding him by his chin as you slid the razor against his face, checking after each stroke for any access hair. “Riki, there’s nothing on here!”

“Gimme that,” he said, taking the razor from your hand to examine it for himself. And to no one’s surprise, there wasn’t any hair on it.

“Ugh, this is useless,” he whined, wiping his face before leaving the bathroom.

You followed after him, “Riki, is everything okay? Why’re you putting so much stress into getting ready today?”

He looked at you with offended eyes, “Don’t tell me you forgot today marks our 14th month anniversary.”

Suddenly, everything started to make sense.

“Riki, you don’t have to try and impress me. I love you just the way you are like I always have,” you smiled, holding his hands in yours.

“I love you too, ____, but that doesn’t mean I’m not gonna spoil you on our anniversary.”

Riki was never one to consider gift-giving to be one of his love languages. Not until he asked you to be his girlfriend on Valentine's Day over a year ago.

The day started with him showering you with gifts and praise as an attempt to earn your love which he already had. These days, your romantic boyfriend can't help but to celebrate the day he won you, even though his friends call him a simp for it.

And in perfect cliche fashion, your anniversary happens to fall on the 14th day of every month, which is what brings you here today.

“Spoil me, huh?” You grinned, “so what do you have planned? I mean, sometimes I feel like we’ve done everything already.”

“You know I'll always think of something new. But for now, it's a surprise. You’ll find out after we finished getting ready.”

You and your boyfriend shared the bathroom for the next 25 minutes as you two got dressed together, wearing the cutest matching red outfits that he picked out a whole week prior to today.

“You look absolutely stunning, ____,” he marveled, taking in your frame like a work of art.

Your stomach fluttered at his remark, “Oh please, you’re just proud of your work.”

“Maybe,” he smirked, pulling a large bouquet of red roses from behind his back.

“Riki,” you began before he took your hand, interlacing your fingers around the flower stems.

“I wanna get a picture of you like this,” he smiled, counting down from three before snapping a quick picture, “Don’t worry, I won’t post it anywhere,” he said, noticing that you seemed a bit awkward.

You walked outside with his arm linked in yours, still holding the rose bouquet. You two made your way past the familiar shops that lined the city streets beyond your apartment, taking in the beautiful early morning scenery.

That’s when you two spotted a band of instrumentalists, harmonizing to a romantic tune. You looked up at Riki with playful eyes, communicating to him that you wanted to dance.

Knowing your boyfriend, he would happily oblige to any opportunity to dance, especially with the love of his life.

“May I,” he asked cornily, bowing before you.

“Yes, Riki, you may.”

He took the bouquet from your grasp, placing it on a nearby coffee table before tucking a rose behind your ear.

“And for you,” you smiled, placing one of the roses between his teeth.

He took your hand in his, pulling you close before guiding you across the floor along with the music, bracing your lower back.

Your hands sat at his shoulders before getting lost in his hair, staring into his piercing eyes as the heart-warming melody came to a sudden stop.

It was starting to rain.

The band busied themselves with packing up their instruments before fleeing the moist environment.

"Welp, that was fun while it lasted," Riki chimed, grabbing the bouquet before walking back in the direction of your apartment.

"Hey, I thought we were gonna spend the day out," you pouted confused.

"I know, but I had a picnic date planned in the park, which I doubt would be much fun in this weather."

He held the flowers over your two heads as a way to shield yourselves from the down pour.

"Sooo, what do we do, now?"

"Hmm," he hummed in thought, "we could always just run around the city and hope we don't get struck by lightening. Orrrrr, we could have a dance off in the rain! First one to slip loses."

"Riki!"

"What? That's better than me sulking over how a few grey clouds ruined our anniversary."

You looked at his face which fell from its original enthusiasm, trying to think of something to cheer him up.

You smacked the bouquet out of his hand, running ahead of him.

"Yah, ____! I paid good money for these!"

"Last one to the apartment's a rotten egg," you giggled, hardly getting far with your high heels against the rain.

Riki counted from five, giving you a few more seconds to get ahead before sprinting ahead of you, laughing as you pouted in defeat.

Fin.

🌹 Special thanks to @microwvdstrawb3rri3s for requesting this piece! This was my first time writing an established relationship fic so I hope you guys enjoyed it!

🌹 Taglist (open) — @fanficfactoryfoxxx @ashgonedash @yourmomscuntis2tighy @kaykay11sworld @rickysblkgf @4imhry @yngwife @bambangan @microwvdstrawb3rri3s @nikipedia07 @naddii @beomgyusonlywife @rickysblkgf @nikiiitties @03sunoos

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[hannieehaee]

18+ / mdi

content: newrelationship!jeonghan, very soft, afab reader, fluff, smut, penetrative sex, etc.

wc: 1276

a/n: im in love with him if that wasnt clear already

masterlist

it had only been two weeks since jeonghan had finally made you his.

he had pined after you for a bit, not fully realizing the extent of his feelings for you until a month prior, when he decided he just had to have you and decided to act accordingly, sweeping you off your feet soon after.

you were the prettiest, most perfect thing he had ever had. your relationship was brand new, which made everything even sweeter. he couldn't get enough of you, or you of him.

today had been the first night you spent over at his place, having fallen asleep on his couch halfway through the movie without realizing. he didn't have the heart to wake you up, being too enamored by the sight of your adorable form curled up against the couch, folded like a ball due to the cold. upon realizing your state, he had covered you up with a blanket, allowing you some warmth while he left to prepare you a tea for whenever you woke up. when he came back a few minutes later, he found you disoriented, barely processing the time. it wasnt that late yet, but he still insisted you stay since you seemed so exhausted. after five minutes of jeonghan whining at you to stay, you agreed, also accepting the shirt and sweats he gave you to wear to sleep.

his intentions had been completely pure, only wanting to hold you through the night, guaranteeing himself the soundest sleep he had ever had. and he had been right, as he had never known comfort such as the one he found tangled with you under his covers.

waking up had also been an experience, falling for you all over again upon seeing the softness of your expression as you rested. he decided, once again, not to wake you and fell back asleep in your arms.

a few hours later, you woke up, not offering him the same courtesy and softly waking him up.

"hannie? hannie, wake up."

"hmm?", he was half asleep as he responded, but your soft voice had immediately sitting up, putting his attention on you.

suddenly, you weee very shy, halfway hiding under your blanket, "i stayed over ..."

"yeah, baby, i know," he chuckled, "we went through this, remember?"

"isnt it too soon?"

"hmm. no," he went to hold you in his arms, "been wanting to keep you to myself for a while now," he kissed at your cheek as he said this, drinking in your adorable giggles at his affection, "now come with me so we can make some breakfast, yeah?"

it was easy for you to agree with him, now getting up and heading to his kitchen, where he allowed you to take charge due to his less than favorable cooking skills, claiming he'd help you out and follow your every order. in usual jeonghan fashion, that had been a lie. the man was simply too affectionate for his (and your) own good, simply opting for hugging you from behind as you made some eggs to satiate the both of you.

his touches had been completely innocent in nature, only giving you a few pecks on your cheeks as he held onto you. he got a bit more daring soon after, however, now deciding to reach uncharted waters and begin leaving breathy kisses along your neck.

you seemed to not be in disagreement, even tilting your neck so he could have more room to kiss you. you couldnt help yourself in the soft moans you let out the moment he began to lick and suck at your neck. those pretty moans were all he needed to let his hands begin to wander across your torso, sneaking his hands under his your shirt as he rubbed them up and down your stomach, almost daring to touch your breasts before asking for confirmation as to whether or not it was okay for him to do so.

"can i, angel?"

"mhm ... anything you want, hannie ..."

"oh? anything?" he smirked against your neck, finding a spot that had you mewling at his touch before finally allowing his hands to find home on your breasts, not taking long to begin pinching at your nipples and feeling you up.

"uh-huh ..." unknowingly, you sensually pushed your ass back against him, making him moan out before beginning a slow grind against you, feeling gratification at your mutual humping.

"oh, baby ... my pretty girl. so sweet for me ..." he loved how soft and pliant you were; how just a few light touches had you losing all inhibitions and entertaining his want for you.

"can i have it, baby? will you let me take care of you?", he asked after a few moments of dry humping, realizing you were growing restless in his arms.

"hannie ... please ..." he didn't need further confirmation to turn you around in his arms, immediately going for your lips as he kissed you sensually, his tongue dancing with your as you moaned at the simple pleasure of his kiss.

he was now grinding against your front, making you whine against his lips, mewling his name in the softest gasps he had ever heard. you truly were the prettiest thing he had ever held in his arms. he wanted you more than anything. he only allowed himself the pleasure of your cries at the bare minimum of pleasure that dry humping was giving you for a few moments, soon opting to finally enter your warmth.

he asked you for permission before doing it, despite knowing you'd respond with enthusiastic consent. he just wanted to hear how badly you wanted him back. after a cry of 'yes. please, hannie!' that had his eyes rolling back at how precious you were, he finally plunged inside you, holding one of your legs up and wrapping it around his waist.

he ground against you in slow and calculated movements, immediately hitting at that spot that had you throwing your head back.

"my beautiful girl ... is that it? that's the spot, angel?", he didn't wait for a response, only ramming harder against you to elicit even louder moans out of you.

"h-hannie ..."

"i know, angel, i know. feels so good, huh? prettiest thing ... you take it so good, fuck. my gorgeous girl. wanted you for so long now. cant believe i have you," he adored the effect he had on you, groaning at the way you tightened around him every time he praised you or told you how into you he was.

"gonna cum for me, angel? gonna give it to me? yeah? wanna feel you, baby."

you didn't need any convincing to cum while in his arms, and neither did he, quickly pulling out to cum into the sink that had been right next to you, cringing at the thought of having to disinfect it, but having had to improvise in the moment.

"hannie, ew ... the sink?"

"yah! this is your fault! seducing me in the kitchen ..."

"me?! i was just making breakfast!"

"yeah! in my clothes? looking so pretty and fuckable? you knew what you were doing. it's okay, angel. i understand. i wouldve seduced you sooner or later anyways."

you rolled your eyes at his gremlin laugh, jokingly pushing him away when he approached you with dampened paper towels to clean you up a bit, then dragging your sweats back up.

"the eggs got burnt," you pouted at him, interrupting him from the kiss he was about to give you.

"angel, i dont care about some stupid eggs. let me kiss you, yeah?"

"oka– "

he hummed against your lips, enjoying the sweetness of your kiss. he could totally see himself enjoying this every morning from now on.

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