#like when someone has anything positive to say to me my brain gets so confused

[silenthillbunni]

having avpd is so hard bc yes i am extremely sensitive nd insecure nd thus difficult to deal w plus i self sabotage bc of my self critical thoughts. when i was a kid i was constantly picked apart nd criticized for every single little thing i did or said or thought nd now my brain's broken!!!!! yayyy

#it ruins everything for me #nd it's esp hard w relationships to other ppl #bc someone can tell me that hey no i like u i like talking to u nd prove it by keep talking to me for a year #but me? im like omg no what if they dont actually like me nd are just pitying me ?!? #or it's more like.... theres such a huge disconnect bwteen me and being likable that i just cant believe it #i rlly genuinely hate every single person around me when i was a child #they fkn tore into me nd everywhre i went all i got was criticism for my entire being nd existence #and now im stuck like this forever!!! will i ever be able to do anything at all???? #avpd #like when someone has anything positive to say to me my brain gets so confused #what do u mean u arent criticizing me rn???? idgi???? so sad :((

[thegnomelord]

Ok, so I loved your dragon reader/ dragon price fic. The detailed courting rituals got me thinking about how different members of TF 141 react to a s/o who has different courting rituals than them.

The one rolling around in my mind rn is Gaz (which I'm pretty sure is a harpy or bird hybrid of some kind) with a dragon reader.

So Gaz tries to court reader through a more fancy version of pebbling. But, instead of giving cool rocks and sticks, it's gemstones and weapons. Yknow, expensive/fancy things that Gaz thinks the reader might want to add to his hoard.

Btw do you have an anon list? If so, is 👑 anon available?

I don't have an anon list yet but you're welcome to be 👑anon!

It's cool to think how they'd try to court you. I hc that werewolves, and Johnny by extension, are really straightforward. Like sitting way too close, hands roaming over your body, trying to lick into your mouth and going "Hey wanna make more of us?"

Ghost, the poor thing, is completely fucked bc he was human before becoming a wraith, how the Hell is he supposed to know? Que him going through Wikipedia articles and watching documentaries of your species courting and mating (having to rub one out imaging you and him in that position ofc) and just stumbling through the whole courting thing.

CW:NSFW

But Gaz? Oooh Gaz—

Safe to say he's fallen ass over tits for you.

It's the way you take care of them, of him, of the monstrous strength used to defend them turning velvet soft when Gaz needs emotional support that has his harpy hindmind demanding to lock you down before a competitor snatches you away.

Only problem — you're not a harpy. And Gaz has no idea how courtship works, as when he asks Price about it (under the guise of just being curious) the old fart just gives him an amused look and tells him to figure it out.

Though harpies and dragons are two different species, he figures there must be some similarities, so he figures to listen to the old fairy tales about your kind and looks for the shiniest thing he can find, because Harpies court by giving gifts and dragons like to hoard and both of them like shiny stuff right?

You're confused like Hell when one day you wake up to find a silver ring with a shiny amethyst sitting on your windowsill. You know for a fact it's not yours as the instinct to catalogue every item in your hoard is as old as the draconic blood running through your veins and you'd remember if you had it.

When you make sure it's not stolen and no owner can be found, (because who'd wear that type of ring in a military base?) you decide to keep it, failing to notice how the way Gaz's pupils get bigger when you put the ring in your pocket.

It is a nice ring, the shine of the gemstone tickling your brain in a pleasant way. The military doesn't allow dragons to have large hoards, most of the items you've gathered over the decades and centuries safely hidden in vaults, but it feels good to have a small hoard in your den.

You expect this to be a one off event. But. No. Every few weeks you find a new thing on your windowsill, from gems to guns to additions to weapons you've expressed you'd like to get. Each new thing leaves you scratching your head, annoyance growing bit by bit as there's never enough scent on the items to track the culprit down and it's not like you can turn the base upside down looking for them (again).

You're unsure how to feel; it's obvious someone is trying to court you, but it definitely can't be Price because no dragon would go about it like this. But you have to admit it's nice to be desired, regardless how odd the method may be.

Then you notice how Gaz has started acting. . . different. He'll ruffle his feathers and flutter his wings more than usual when you two are alone, purposely stretch more often to make your eyes naturally draw to him, sticking to your side as he talks about everything and anything under the sun.

You're also not a fool. You can figure out it's a harpy's way of trying to show off, but without any open hostility you can only assume he's trying to court you. And you let him, you like his presence and the sound of his voice, the way he gives you a lopsided smile and the way his dark feathers shine like onyx gems when the light hits them juuust right and the way he flushes and stutters when your tail wraps around his leg.

Then one late evening when you're doing paperwork you catch sight of something behind your window in the corner of your eye. Like a flash you're opening the window, your clawed hand gripping Gaz's hand before he can scatter.

Gaz's wings spread out wide, a surprised squawk leaving him as he looks into your slitted eyes. "Uh-, I, eh- Hi?" He says, gulping, his newest gift, a very shiny ruby, held in his hand. But what draws your eye are his dark feathers.

You let out an amused snort, "Hello." You purr, leaning in so your faces are close, enjoying the way he flushes from the proximity. "So you're the little thief that's been visiting me."

Gaz's feather puff up to make his silhouette twice as big, his eyes narrowing, a hurt and angry look spreading across his features. "I'm no thief!" He says, insulted that you'd suggest he can't get you gifts on his own. "I-"

"You are," You hum, reaching out your other hand to hold his jaw, and even with his anger he feels his mind croon at how softly you touch him. "You're in the process of stealing my heart."

"Oh." Is the most intelligent thing he can come up with, his pupils blowing wide like he'd just seen the shiniest thing in his life. "Oh."

"Yes," You shrug and pull your hand back to yank one of your scales out of your shoulder, giving it to him as you take the ruby. "Keep this safe for me, yeah?" You hum and then you let him go, going back to your work while he's left dumbstruck, clutching the scale close to his chest.

When it finally settles in his head that you'd just given him a gift, that you'd reciprocated, and given him a shiny gift, oh he's treating that scale like it's the most precious thing in his world. He keeps it close to him, cooing to it in the privacy of his room, keeping it on his pillow so he can fall asleep with your scent in his nose.

He also doubles down on the gifts, but now he's very open about it, to the point you'll have him randomly come into your office to give you something shiny or another weapon, preening so prettily when you praise the thing he's brought back, nuzzling into your neck and fluffing up his feathers. His heart swoons when you show him the small hoard you've made with all the things he's brought you, and you end up spending the entire evening with him cuddled up to you, chirping happily.

"Hey, can I see that scale I gave you?" You ask after a couple of weeks, curious to see how he's treated it.

"Uh, sure." Gaz can swear his heart's beating like a war drum as he watches you inspect your scale, checking for scratches or cracks.

But you find none, it's still as shiny as the day you'd given it to him. Maybe even shinier.

You smile and before he can do anything you pull him close to you by a hand on his hip. "Very well done, little thief." You hum, kissing him. Gaz melts against you, not even your lips able to muffle the happy chirps and croons that escape his chest.

You spend the next few months getting familiar with each other's bodies, lazy evenings spent with your clawed hands preening his wings, Gaz steadily melting into the bed with every brush of your fingers. Kyle taking a few extra minutes in the morning to rub his face between your wing, chirping and crooning.

Harpy mating season comes around and you're caught off guard when you come to your room to find your covers and pillows and entire wardrobe on the ground, turned into a makeshift nest with a very naked, and very horny, Gaz sitting in the middle of it.

His eyes are hazy but he knows you're there the second your scent hits his nose, the most desperate sound you've ever heard leaving his lips, bruised from how hard he'd been biting them to reign his noises in, to keep them only for you.

"Mate-" Kyle whines, shuffles in the nest that has the pretty gems he'd gifted you strewn amongst the fabric, "-need you, please- I-"

One more needy sound is all it takes to have you tumbling naked into the nest in record time, deep guttural purrs answering his pleased coos. He presses flush against you, seeking out your mouth, whole body burning up and his thighs shaking, his cock rock hard.

"I got you, pretty thief." You rumble, pulling him into your lap, his wings spreading out and feathers puffing up, as if he needs to make himself look even more desirable. "What do you need Kyle?"

"Need you," Kyle whines, pawing at your own erection, desperate fingers shaking as he strokes you, "Please- hurts, I need- mate."

You shush him with sweet kisses, your hand sliding down to very carefully stretch him open while avoiding injuring him with your claws, your mind purring at how willingly he opens up for you, wings and limbs shaking as he whimpers against your lips, his mind steadily leaking from his cock.

"You're alright," You calm him when you pull your fingers out, positioning him so your cock head rests against his entrance, not missing how Kyle preens at your strength. "Going to breed you right, gonna take care of you."

"Yes, yes, yes!" Kyle moans are loud as you steadily push your cock into him, his walls clamping down on every inch of your length. "Oh, thank you, thank you, thank- mate." His claws dig into your shoulders, clutching you tight as you bottom out in him, his hole clenching you in sync with his ragged breathing.

"I'm here," You hum, barely able to think, "Just relax, let me take care of you." You say, feeling him relax into you, and with deep purrs and lots of praise you begin to fuck him, moving him like a fleshlight on your cock, letting him moan and groan and scream his heart out uncaring who hears it, your ancient blood singing at the thought of his noises being a testament to your abilities as a mate.

Then the tight heat and the scent and just Kyle has your mind forgetting how to think, your body moving on it's own to show Kyle he'd picked a good mate.

#cod mw2 #gnome correspondence #x reader #Gnome's Spittballs #trinkets from the hoard #male reader #top male reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #kyle garrick x male reader #kyle gaz garrick x male reader #kyle gaz garrick #cod mlm #cod modern warfare #monster cod au #cod smut #cod x male reader

[neo-nomatrix]

10 Things I hate about you

Hobie brown x reader

word count: 1120

(My) Nuisance masterlist

Synopsis: You have hated your neighbor for one year, 3 months, and 8 days. You hate his hair, his boots, his obnoxious music, and most of all you hate the way you love him

a/n; This is the last part of the main (My) Nuisance story! Other installments will be on parters about reader and Hobie before and after the main plot. Thank you to everyone who loves this story it means the world to me!

Being neighbors with Hobie has been one of the most frustrating, exhausting, and confusing experiences of your life. He has truly put you through hell and back.

1. I hate the way you talk to me and the way you do your hair.

If someone had told you one year ago you would be completely head of heels for Hobie you most likely would have laughed in their face. If someone had told you he was the man under Spider-punk's mask you would have jumped off a bridge right then and there. Yet here you are, searching your brain for answers about Hobie and his feelings wondering what you got yourself into.

2. I hate the way you lie to me and your stupid boot buckles.

The unbearable truth was, Hobie got to you. Most importantly he hurt you in the process. You weren’t supposed to get close to him, you weren’t supposed to fall in love with him but you did. He had completely forgotten about the night before and it hurt you more than anything. You genuinely thought he liked you, as luck would have it he confessed to you that he was a compulsive liar when he drank too much. Leading you into realizing he didn’t mean it, why would he? He seemed like the type who would flirt with you just as a fun game, you didn’t know what you were expecting.

3. I hate you so much it makes me mad, it makes my head spin, my stomach ties into knots, makes me weak in the legs.

Was that what this was? A sick joke? A game to him? Just thinking about that made you want to scream at him. Yell at him, tell him how angry you were with the fact that he played with your feelings. You wanted to scream at him and give him a piece of your mind. Yet you couldn’t. You have always been able to yell at Hobie, always. Even over dumb things like the way he talked. But now, it’s different. You wanted to get up and yell at him but you stayed sitting on the ground. Legs to your chest and you just sat there. Unable to move, frozen in that position.

4. I hate it when you’re out all night drinking and the way it makes me worry, worry so much that I stay up all night waiting to hear your stupid boots.

You hear a knock at the door and know it’s him. Of course it’s him, in your time living here he was the only person to ever knock on your door.

“Love? I- I want to talk to you. Can you let me in?” He asked, his voice quiet.

5. I hate your stupid smile and the way you purposefully play your guitar too loud just so i’ll come over.

He takes your silence as an answer, he’s about to say something and then pauses.

“When you were in my room you found a box. It had your stuff in it and a letter. I wrote the letter for you. You deserve to read it. I have your necklace and ring too, sorry bout that,” he gave you an awkward laugh.

“No, I shouldn't have even known about it,” you’re surprised you could even speak to him, “I don’t want to read it either,” you say quickly.

“You have a right to know what it says, okay? At least let me tell you.”

6. I hate that you were so easy to fall in love with.

A few seconds after he finished talking he turned the doorknob and walked into your flat.

“I don’t know what I said to you last night but I'm sorry. Whatever-“ you cut him off before he can finish.

“Don’t. I know you didn’t mean it so don’t. It doesn’t matter now I'm over it,” you brush him off.

“So uhm, what did i say exactly?” He questions

“I said it doesn’t matter, piss off!” you snap.

You both look away from each other, unable to speak.

7. I hate the way you hurt me and the way you made me get close to you. It would be so much easier to despise you if you weren’t so handsome.

“The letter talks about how much I love you, alright? Ever since the day we met and you gave me that stupid note I have been in love with you. You really don’t see the way I look at you? Or- or how I'm extra loud when I know you're trying to sleep? I would do anything just to look at you, that is how in love I am with you. I don’t know if you’re really just clueless or you’re trying to ignore the signs but I am pulling every string to try and make you fall in love with me. Is that what you want to hear?” He’s out of breath by the time he finishes. Tears are brewing in the corner of his eye.

8. I hate it when you say exactly what I want you to say.

“Yeah, actually it kind of is. You told me that it hurt when I didn't show up for our date. I thought you did like me, but then you said you lied when you were drunk. And I don't know why but I believed you,” You confess.

9. I hate it when we don’t talk and the way you make me feel. I hate that I didn't understand those stomach knots were me falling in love.

“No no no, I thought I said something that would upset you. Of course I meant that, Love,” he said, holding your face in his hands. The cold metal of his rings touching you.

“You mean that?” you ask.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything else,” he smiles. God that stupid smile.

“You also, kind of told me something else. You said you were uhm, Spiderman?” you nervously asked.

He visibly tensed up.

“Oh that, well I guess there’s no point in lying huh?”

“So you are?”

“Yeah, for the last three years. But I don’t believe in labels, they’re stupid,” he shrugs

“That’s pretty embarrassing for me then, hm?” you look around your spiderman themed room.

“Nah, I think it’s pretty cute,” he says, making you blush.

“Why don’t we start over? We can go out on a proper date, forget any of this happened. I promise, no standing each other up and we’ll be so happy,” He says, grinning ear to ear.

“Alright then, where should we go?”

10. You especially hate the way you don’t hate him at all. You don’t like him either. You love him. You’re in love with Hobie Brown, your nuisance.

Taglist: @clown420cunt @good-so @anonima-2 @ghOst-spider @miracleboylene @natthernandez @frenchbaddie @loislucky @juo6uvr @gaychaosgremlin @skiedrr @the-golden-goldie @hellok1ttycake @theleftkittycollection @xbI00dy-rOs3x @diamondroxypie @erensbbg @change-up-lozers @persondoingstuff @thepjofanqueen @eli-pitch-does-art @naarraa @pascaliscult @regulus-black-223048 @couchpotato2006 @anonoussy @bruhhvv @miyalou13 @meowmeowmau @michael-21stfu @yeyrpp2 @panicosis @yuli3tt @omgitstatertot @bythe-water-fountain @lIstarx @landrysg @yn-hamato @fisshil @peaktora @thatmaladaptivedaydreamer @urmotherswhor3 @hunniiebe @ashjustlikesthings @imthesadsad @spiderpunkzgf @single2dsimp @anonymousfleshbag @aesolane @gloomdoomraccoon @nightshxdex @kenstan

*If your user wasn’t tagged and showed up as just text it’s because you have something changed in settings

#marvel x reader #spiderman atsv x reader #spiderman x reader #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman atsv #spiderman x y/n #hobie brown x y/n #hobie x reader #hobie x you #hobie brown x reader #atsv hobie #hobie my beloved #hobie spiderverse #hobie brown x you #hobie brown #spiderpunk x y/n #spiderpunk x reader #spiderpunk x you #spiderman x reader smut #atsv x reader #spiderman atsv x you

[reallyromealone]

This isn't a request but I'm brain rotting rn about imagining Emma is once again at a toman meeting with another 'girl' and Draken of course scolds her and is like "Don't go bringing your schoolmates to a gang meeting," but it's actually reader crossdressing and Mikey's new bf

Thank you, bye bye I had to tell somebody and I thought you would like it. 🤧

Title: cross dressing

Fandom: Tokyo revengers

Pairing: Mikey x reader

Warnings: slight au, male reader, cross dressing, fluff

Notes: made some slight alterations for the sake of hahas

🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️

Mikey was slightly annoyed as he heard his younger sister brought someone to a Toman meeting, the girl making friends at university and he often saw her friends when he got home from gang stuff or helping shinichiro with his shop on occasion.

What he wasn't expecting was (name) to be dressed in cute feminine clothes and a mini skirt, tucked flat-- Mikey chuckled silently to himself as he knew (name) probably regretted letting Emma get into drag racing shows. Draken scolded the girl as (name) glanced around and saw Mikey leaned back on his chair with his legs spread, slicked back blond hair showing off his tattoos as he winked before blowing out smoke from his cigarette.

(Name) And Mikey had recently begun dating, the blond initially hesitant when he learned Emma had a male friend and Draken nearly hostile at his girlfriend being so close to the cute boy but they quickly realized that (name) was not interested in Emma or any other girl.

What Draken didn't know was that Mikey immediately went on the hunt, practically popping up anywhere (name) was to flirt with him and eventually begin dating him.

So when the twenty-one year old saw his boyfriends bare thighs swished slightly by stockings and that cute skirt, (name) looked nervous at the look he gave him though... The Toman underlings who stood in position in the back garden of Toman headquarters didn't see the look as their boss being a horny bastard but instead saw it as annoyed.

To be fair, Mikey was incredibly hard to read.

"She can stay but she has to stay out of the way, we aren't responsible if she gets hurt" Draken sighed and kissed Emma's forehead as the blond girl beamed up at the tattooed man "thanks Kenny!" She said sweetly and the giant of a man grumbled but didn't say anything.

(Name) Sat with Emma quietly as they started their meeting, Emma and (name) chatting amongst themselves and working on a project, (name) explaining his half and what he was doing.

They didn't even notice the meeting end until Mikey wandered to them "oi" he said passively as (name) looked up confused and Mikey raised his hand, many members holding their breaths only for Mikey to grip (name)s neck and kiss him softly "what" Baji said confused, he was fully ready to get the cute girls number but seems Mikey got to her first.

"What's with the clothes? They look weird" he asked confused and mitsuya looked up from his laptop, working on business expenses that he will be sending to Koko later "Mikey! Don't tell a girl her clothes look weird! That's rude!"

"But (name) isn't a girl" Mikey said bluntly as he plopped beside (name) and draped himself over the other "I just made (name) wear girl clothes, he owed me a favor" Emma said sweetly "besides he looks cute! Don't judge my fashion Mikey!"

"Wait, she's a dude?" Pah said confused and (name) nodded "yeah "

"Wait why did Mikey kiss you?" Chifuyu was also confused, a group of grown ass men who ran a notorious gang and made illegal millions couldn't figure out was a relationship for the life of them.

"(Name)s my boyfriend" Mikey said bluntly, Draken connecting the dots fast.

That would explain why Mikey went to a specific apartment often.

And based on how he played with (name)s skirt...

He would be going back pretty damn soon.

#tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers x male reader #tokyo revengers fluff #male reader #mikey tokyo revengers #x male reader #mikey x male reader

[levitiquee]

"LEEEVIII!"

Levi snapped his head back, eyes widening when he caught your figure hurtling through the air, the distance making you look smaller than you were. With a flip, you landed on the branch beside him, shooting him a grin.

"Hi."

Levi glared at you, as if to burn you with his eyes. "What the fuck is wrong with you?" He hissed, sheathing back his sword. "What are you doing here?"

"I got lost. Then I saw you." You beamed, uncaring of his outright pissed expression, all too used to him and the sharpness of his words. Your expression wasn't the slightest bit of upset that you got lost in a middle of a fucking forest filled with titans. Instead, you looked like someone just stuffed you with sunshine and rainbows.

"You got lost?" He said in disbelief. "How the fuck did you get lost? You were supposed to be with Hange. How do you lose Hange?"

"Ah well." You shrugged, looking down at the ugly little titan by the foot of the tree that was trying to climb up. "That's a pretty big one. Should we capture it?" You mused, tilting your head to see it better.

"No. Go back to your position." He seethes. "Stop pulling stunts. You're gonna get killed."

"Well, that's why you're here, aren't you? To stop me from getting killed."

Levi glowered, his jaw twitching.

"Fucking walls." He pinched the bridge of his nose. "I'm two seconds away from throwing you down there."

"But you won't." You grinned. "You like me."

"Not enough to resist the temptation to shove your ass off here."

You reached for his head, playfully smacking him.

"Don't be pissy." You stood up, balancing yourself on the branch. Levi stood up with you, body tense like a cat, ready to catch you if you fall. His eyes warily flicked from the titan underneath to you. "It's less boring to work with you."

"Nice to know I'm entertaining." He huffed grumpily. "Being around you is like babysitting a fucking child. I will never understand how you became a scout in the first place with your brains."

"Rude. I ranked in the top 10 of my class." You pouted.

"Yeah, yeah." He waved you off. "Does Hange know you're here?"

"I told you I got lost."

He groaned. "One of these days you're gonna get in so much crap for pulling shits like this."

"I got lost."

"I'm sure you did."

"Okay, fine." You threw up your hands in defeat. "I just wanted to be with you."

His eyes softened, watching you as you sulked. "Fine." He let out an exaggarated sigh. "Fine. You can stay with me."

You face brightened up instantly and you hissed out a joyful 'yes' under your breath. But before you got to say anything else, he cut you off.

"But."

"But what?" You squinted your eyes in confusion.

He reached for the back of your head, pulling it closer and looking you in the eyes.

"But." He said. "You stick with me. Close. You got that?"

You gave a sheepish nod.

"Do not wander away. Do not try to look cool midair. Do not go off to kill titans, that's my job. Do not fall off of trees–"

"Hey, it was that one time and you startled me—"

"And absolutely do not get killed. Hear me?"

With a slight pull on your hair, he let you go. "Oi. You heard me?"

Rubbing the back of your head, you nodded. "Yes, heard you. Loud and clear." You mumbled. "What else? Would you like to carry me as well? Piggyback ride?"

Levi glared at you, but pretended not to hear your sarcastic remarks. With that, he pulled out the ODM triggers, flexing his fingers over it. "Do not get killed." He repeated.

"I won't." You reassured, bringing out your own triggers. "Cause I'm with you, aren't I?"

Levi scoffed.

-

Levi swallowed when they carried you out, his fingernails digging into his palm. Blood has seeped through the white cloth you were wrapped in. And though you were covered from head to toe, he knew it was you.

And they took you off. Somewhere. To put you in a hole 6 foot under and leave you there.

Alone.

You never liked being alone.

That's why you always seeked him. In expeditions and meetings, always finding a way to find a place beside him, to slot your hands in his and give him that oh maddeningly annoying grin that always pissed him off but never failed to make his heart flip. And that's why when nights you couldn't sleep, you'd find yourself curled up in his bed, softly ranting about some weird dream you had or some shitty gossip in the facility that he didn't give two shits about but he let you talk because he liked watching you.

And he never thought of himself as someone people would look for if they were lonely, but you had chosen him, from the very first day.

No you never liked being alone. Or quiet. Or still.

Look at you now.

You never liked being alone.

But Levi liked being alone.

But then you came and he doesn't know how to live alone anymore.

How cruel of you to leave him alone.

-

Levi sat in his desk. For how long, he doesn't know. But it must've been a while because his spine ached and his eyes were heavy.

He'd been staring at the file in front of him for a long, long time.

He couldn't remember the last time he blinked.

The last time he took a breath.

He only stared, eyes focused only on the words on top.

Your name was written in a blood red ink.

Like the blood that you had spilled.

And besides that.

On black bold letters.

Deceased soldier.

Deceased deceased deceased.

That's what you fucking were.

Dead.

He jolted when a something touched his shoulders, breaking out of his daze. He turned to look, his heart beating out of his chest.

It can't be it can't be it can't—

"..Levi?"

He exhaled sharply. No, of course not.

Hange stood beside him, their glasses gleaming as the fireplace reflected off their glasses, it magnified their eyes, making it look bigger than it was. But the concern in them was clear.

"Four-eyes." He muttered, his voice hoarse. It sounded strange even to his own ears, as if coming from a far away place.

"Levi?" Hange said again, grip tightening.

And for the first time in his life, Levi didn't push Hange away. He let them touch him. He needed something, anything to ground him. Something to latch his sanity onto.

There wasn't you any longer.

"..Hange." He mumbled. He was so, so tired. "..I think I can sleep tonight."

@sad-darksoul @anxious-chick @raginginferno267

#how would you like some pain #aot #levi #captain levi #levi ackerman #levi heichou #snk #aot fandom #aot fanfiction #levi x reader #snk fanfiction #captain levi x reader #aot levi x reader #levi x you #levi x y/n #levi angst #levi thoughts #Spotify

[drarrily-we-row-along]

Gorgeous

(inspired by t. swift's song)

Harry knew the moment that Draco walked into the bar. He always knew, there was something about the way he carried himself; his magic hot and bright, burning its way up Harry's spine before he'd even actually seen him. He turned his head, craning his neck to get a glimpse of the other man.

"Malfoy must be here," Ron grumbled.

He glanced back at Ron, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Just that every time he shows up here, you tune out most of what anyone has to say," Seamus piped up.

Harry glared at him, "Shut it. I do not."

"You do," Lavender replied as she slid in next to Parvati across from Hermione. "And it's just so sad because he talks to everyone but you."

He frowned, he had tried to convince himself that it was just his imagination that Draco talked to everyone else and intentionally ignored him. But before he could say anything more, Draco was at their table, he said, "this is Clement," gesturing to the attractive man on his arm before sitting down next to Hermione and immediately striking up a conversation with her.

"It's because he likes you," Blaise said, leaning in closer so Harry could hear him over the noise.

Harry rolled his eyes, "Yeah, right." Draco came with a different date every week, he wasn't interested in Harry.

Blaise shrugged, "Suit yourself but I'm telling you, Potter, that boy's been obsessed with you for years."

Shoving Blaise's shoulder Harry tried to put it from his mind. But as the night wore on, Harry watched Draco talking to everyone in their friend group but him (just like he always did) and when Draco got up to go to the loo, Harry couldn't help but follow. Not wanting to be a perv, he waited outside.

When Draco emerged, he immediately jumped, hand over his heart, "Circe's tits, Potter! What are you doing?"

Instead of answering his question, Harry's inebriated brain supplied one of it's own, "Why won't you talk to me?"

"Excuse me?" Draco asked, looking around as though he thought someone was playing a trick on him.

"I mean, we were friends, right?" he asked, knowing that he sounded more than a little desperate and pathetic. "Like 8th year, we sorted out all of our shit, forgave each other, right?"

"Potter, what are you on about?"

"It's just," he sighed and stared at Draco, wondering if he looked at him hard enough if he'd be able to understand him, "you never talk to me. And you talk to everyone else."

"You should be flattered," Draco said before turning away.

Without thinking Harry reached out and grabbed his hand, giving him a gentle tug, "Wait," he said.

"Adam is waiting," Draco said, not looking up to meet Harry's eyes.

"I thought you said his name was Clement?" Harry murmured.

And before he could do anything else, Draco was pressing him back against the wall and kissing him.

Harry's arms instinctively wrapped around him, drawing him in closer as he kissed him back just as desperately.

"That's what you get for touching my hand in a dark hallway," Draco muttered, nipping at Harry's lips.

"I ought to grab your hand more often, then," Harry replied, tugging Draco's body flush against his own so he could kiss him again.

Draco kissed him back for a long, tension filled moment, body surging and pressing against Harry's before he pulled back, "I fucking hate you."

Harry blinked at him, feeling like he was experiencing whiplash, his brain moving too slow, unutterably confused by the mixed signals he was receiving from Draco's body and his words. "What-" he started, but then Draco was kissing him again.

"I hate your stupid face, and your stupid green eyes," he continued as his hands slid under his tshirt and Harry groaned. "I hate the way you grew into your stupid body; all muscled and handsome. You're so fucking gorgeous, of course I can't talk to you."

"Fuck," he hissed as Draco's nails scraped over his back and Harry flipped their positions, pinning Draco to the wall.

Draco groaned, body shuddering against Harry's as he tried to drag him impossibly closer. "And I hate the way you talk, all honest and earnest, and-" he broke off as Harry sucked hard at his neck. "And I hate that you aren't mine."

Harry pulled back far enough to look him in the eyes, "Draco, you can have me," he said.

"Stop," he whined, giving Harry a shove but immediately tugging him back in. "Don't make fun of me."

"I'm not," Harry assured him. "I want you too, in case that wasn't abundantly clear," he said, pressing forward against Draco's body to emphasize his point.

Draco shook his head, "But I want more than just sex with you. Just sex would never be enough."

"Great," Harry replied, kissing down his neck again and pausing to suck at the bruise he'd left forming on his pale skin.

"I'm serious, Potter," Draco growled, fisting a handful of his hair and pulling until Harry looked him in the eyes again.

"Call me Harry," he said.

Draco rolled his eyes, "I'm serious, Harry. I'm a possessive bastard and I will want to keep you forever."

"Is that a threat or a promise?" Harry asked, feeling a little weak in the knees at the thought of being treasured and kept.

Narrowing his eyes he asked, "Are you being serious?"

"Yes," he said in exasperation, "Draco. I want you, too. I've been head over tits for you for ages."

"Really?" he asked, looking back and forth between Harry's eyes.

"Ask literally any of our friends," he said. "Yes. Really." He leaned in and gave him another soft, tentative kiss.

Draco shuddered and wrapped his arms around Harry's neck, "Take me home," he whispered.

"From here?"

Draco nodded, eyes closed.

He rubbed his nose over Draco's cheek, "What about-" he broke off trying to remember the bloke's name, "what's-his-name?"

"Who?" Draco asked, hands slipping under Harry's waistband and distracting him even further.

"Your date?" he prompted even as his fingers tangled in Draco's hair, turning his to the side to give himself better access to Draco's neck.

Draco whimpered, body arching against Harry's. He waved a hand, "I don't give a fuck. Take me home. Right now." Then softly, in Harry's ear, "Please," he all but moaned and Harry's self control snapped.

He apparated them right from there, straight into his bed, and suddenly Draco had absolutely no problem talking to him.

-------------------

Read more of my fics inspired by songs, if you'd like

tagging the lovely @phoebe-delia since it's taylor swift and that is her jam <3

#drarry #getting together #inspired by taylor swift #draco just really does have the same energy as her #silly #love #fics inspired by songs #a little making out #apparently we've fixed the writer's block- thanks everyone who's left me encouragement and kindness on the things I've posted this week <3 #It's zero to one hundred over here there is no in between. ADHD man.

[sleekswosobession]

sometimes it’s hard

leila ouahabi x fem!reader

request: here & here

A/N: leila is one of my fav players, like i don’t support city but i’ll always support bae ☺️(also i made reader english.. i don’t like england but for the sake of this story)

TW: swearing, women’s footballs worst injury (too painful to say after Sammy K)

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

I lined up in the tunnel, ready to play against Manchester City. The game means nothing but it was a friendly set up between 2 different clubs. To learn more playing styles what not. This meant though, that I’m playing against my secret girlfriend. Who also happens to be lining up with some of my England teammates. I share a quick glance with her before walking out.

After all offical motions are done, the on-field players get in position ready for kick-off. I can’t help but feel something off, in the pit of my stomach, but ignore it attempting to move on with the game that’s just started.

With Leila and I both being defenders, we both don’t usually cross paths often, so that’s good. The game is going pretty smoothly for Barça, 3 goals in the first 45, Leila has stopped quite a fair amount of our attacks on goal. Which is not surprising considering she knows the playing style having been on this team and playing with the Spanish players.

It’s in the 63rd minute, I’m attempting to stop my national teammate Lauren Hemp from scoring when I feel a rip through my knee. It immediately crumples underneath me and I groan, trying to hold back tears.

I make out Lauren kicking the ball away nearing my side immediately.

“Hey, what’s wrong? What happened?” I can hear the worry in her tone.

“Hempo… I think it’s my ACL, please. I can’t continue.” I open my eyes and more people crowd around me. Chloe and Alex are also here, along with Alexia and Lucy.

“Hey, the medics are coming to assess you. Then they’ll take you off yeah?” Lucy speaks. I nod, I only want one person and she isn’t here.

“Can someone get Leila? Please.” All the girls look confused at the request but call her over nonetheless.

She comes rushing immediately, and I watch as she gets on her knees next to me. She arrives just before the medics and lifts my head up against her lap.

“It’ll be ok amor, I’ve got you. If this injury is what you think it is, I’ll be there for you ok?” Tears well in my eyes and I cry into her shorts, missing the exchanges between the other players.

The medics look at my knee.

“Can we feel it? We do suspect it’s the ACL and we’ll need scans.” I nod and they prob around as I flinch, my breath hitching.

“Yeah. we’re going to have to get you on a stretcher and off the pitch immediately. Then straight to hospital.”

“Ok.” Is all I meekly mumble, as I’m lifted up.

“Leila?” I ask, voice cracking.

“Si?”

“After the game, will you see me?” She looks heartbroken for me.

“Of course cariño. I’ll be by your side always.”

- - - - -

I’m in the hospital, the scans have come back with my worst fear coming true. It means I know I won’t be playing for months. If it doesn’t go smoothly then I’ll end up having more problems, like Alexia. It’s hard, for anybody.

I’m kicked out of my thoughts when Leila comes in, freshly showered and in Man City gear.

“Hey.” She says softly, placing her lips gently on mine. “How bad is it?” I sigh.

“Fucking ACL, I’m out for a hefty bit now.” I don’t even have the strength to cry anymore, I’m so exhausted.

“I’m so sorry, when’s the surgery?”

“Tomorrow, they’re keeping me here overnight.” She nods.

“So will I.” My brain freezes.

“No Leila, you can’t. You have to get proper sleep.” I try and argue, but to no avail.

“I told you I’d be by your side did I not? So I will be. After surgery, you could always come back to Manchester with me until you need to start the rehab.”

“You’d allow me to?”

“Of course cariño, anything for my favourite girl.” I smile leaning over the hospital bed rail, placing my head against her chest.

“Te amo.”

“Te amo mucho.”

- - - - -

After the surgery, we end up telling both of our teams about the relationship, and decide not to tell the fans because from the interaction they saw on the pitch… they know anyways.

People had surprised reactions but were happy otherwise. I end up going with Leila to Manchester, and to spend a long time with her in my hometown is the best thing to come around from this injury.

#woso #woso x reader #woso community #woso fanfics #leila ouahabi #leila ouahabi x reader #manchester city women #barcelona femeni #wlw

[dizzyemi]

Hi! May i request some hcs or a drabble with nikolai bsd x fem reader where he exploits reader’s kinks/weakest spot?

‧°⋆.ೃ࿔*:･Hold still!

Summery: Finding out your soft spots and kinks and using them to his advantage

Tags: fem reader, petnames (dove) mentioned kinks (bondage, public sex), mix of degradation and praise (slut), improper use of his ability

Notes: not proofread, I've like never wrote smut publicly before and I felt like I didn't do this justice 🧍🏻‍♀️

Format: Drabble

It first started off with featherlight touches along your body, innocent enough but nothing is ever innocent with him.

Whispering sweet nothings as he feels you shiver against him, pulling you onto his lap as his hands start to grow more daring, carressing the curve of your ass while asking if you want something more.

Everything quickly turns heated as he makes sure to touch every place he possibly can to see where your most sensitive. Mixing between soft and rough touches, pinching your nipples yet massaging your breasts afterwards. He wants to know all your likes and dislikes, and he could try every single kink he knows on you but what if you don't enjoy some of it?

What better way to figure out what you like by watching porn together! He ends up holding you flush against him with his strong arms, having you propped up on his thigh, watching porn on the tv! He says "it's so you can see everything~"

He watches your reactions intently, he feels the way you squirm at the sight of that one person tied up, feeling you unconsciously grind against his thigh when the woman is getting her guts rearranged out in public.

You whine as he teases you through your panties, circling your clit through the fabric but not pressing down on it hard enough, you try to buck your hips but his hand on your hips keeps you still. Nikolai's fingers running through the wet patch forming "Me oh my, my little dove seems to be quiet wet, practically soaking for me~"

Once this little marathon is done he's got you bent in every single position he saw you clench your thighs at, fucking your brains out as he pulls out perfect orgasms after orgasm from you, turning you into a babbling mess as he hits your g-spot repedetly while making your wildest fantasies come true.

Tying you to the bed as he has his way with you, doing anything he wants with you as long as he knows you enjoy it

"Did my girl enjoy that? Yeeeah~" He drawls, grunting as he pounds into you, taking your left breast into his hand and squeezeing it "I didn't know you were secretly such a slut, my pretty little slut~"

After this he'll start using everything he learnt for his gain, using his ability to prep you under the table of front other people, finding it entertaining when you squirm in your seat and someone asking if you're okay. Your about to say something but he decides it's just the right moment to just thrust into you all the way to the hilt in one movement, making you jump and gasp.

Your flustered as the other person looks confused and you say you stubbed your toe, glancing at Nikolai's when he chuckles. The movements of his hips is hardly noticeable and you shift yourself a bit, trying to ride the basically floating dick and it isn't long till your gushing around his cock from embarrassment at the idea of being caught.

You can hear him softly grunt, painting your insides ivory and pulling out, disactivating his ability and you can feel his cum spilling out of your hole. You shoot him a glare as he has the most shit eating grin on his face.

He's going to find out all your kinks <3

#bsd x reader #bsd #nikolai x reader #nikolai smut #nikolai gogol #bsd nikolai #nikolai gogol smut

[cherienymphe]

When The Party’s Over XVII (Rafe Cameron x Reader)

Warnings: mentions of NON-CON, DUB-CON, ABUSIVE RELATIONSHIP, mentions of DOMESTIC VIOLENCE, forced pregnancy, mentions of abortion, forbidden relationship, violence, jealousy, stalking, underage drinking, drug use, manipulation, corruption, public sex, innocent reader, Heyward!reader

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies​ | divider by @silkholland​​

➥ series masterlist

summary: Manipulated into a secret relationship with Rafe Cameron, you’re finding it much easier said than done to do the right thing and walk away…especially when he refuses to let you.

~

The tension between you and Pope was thick, and it had been for weeks. You knew there was no anger there, only disappointment and confusion. You still recalled the look on his face when you told him that you wouldn’t be pressing charges. He had sighed, angrily, and you hated being the cause of that look on his face.

“You know Rafe is right,” you had murmured, and Pope swallowed. “Leave it to me to get roped in with a guy who has the influence to do practically anything he wants.”

Pope had remained quiet, but it was obvious that he wasn’t happy with your decision, even if he understood why. You didn’t tell him about what had happened that night when you returned home, Rafe’s assault also contributing to your decision. If you were being completely honest with yourself, Rafe terrified you, and far too much to ever get the courage to even try and press charges. You knew you wouldn’t succeed, but you felt like a traitor to yourself to not even try.

You’d woken up that next morning alone and feeling oh so sore. Rafe was gone, no doubt leaving the same way he came, and you’d been too in shock to even think about telling someone. Your body had been on autopilot as you made your way to the bathroom, finally getting that much needed shower. You’d scrubbed your skin until it was practically raw, and even then, you still didn’t feel clean enough. You could still feel him on you.

It was only when you were sitting on your bed in a towel did the thought occur to you to tell Pope or even wake up Kie. You’d decided against it, vowing to keep your window locked forever from now on, and cross that bridge when you get there should you find yourself in the position again. It had taken you too long to get dressed, and when you finally did, it was like Pope had sensed it because he was knocking on your door.

You had a feeling as to what he wanted, and you resigned yourself to this conversation when he sat down on your bed with a sigh.

“You know I have to ask,” he’d quietly said, staring at the wall.

You took a deep breath, sitting down beside him.

“I was coming from a party one night,” you softly started. “Cam and Bunny were too drunk to drive two blocks, let alone all the way here to drop me off.”

You licked your lips, remembering how awed and thankful you’d been that night.

“I was going to miss curfew and get in so much trouble when…Rafe saw me and offered me a ride home.”

You looked at Pope, and you could see him tying to wrack his brain, trying to calculate when your life started becoming so entwined with Rafe’s and how he hadn’t noticed.

“Do you remember the day we were at Sarah’s and I told you to go ahead because my friends were going to take me home?”

Pope looked at you at that, and his eyes told you that he already knew what you were going to say.

“They didn’t. Rafe had offered to take me when I went upstairs to use the bathroom, and considering he’d done it before, I said okay,” you sighed. “That was only the second time we were in contact with each other like that, and it just started happening more and more.”

You watched Pope drop his head into his hands, clearly trying to process what had been going on right under his nose and for how long.

“My friends ran into his friends at the country club one day, and next thing I know, we’re all hanging out together. Bunny likes Topper, and Kelce and Cam become this official thing, and Rafe… Rafe was treating me like gold.”

You let out a bitter chuckle.

“Things between us happened so fast, I mean…”

You contemplated revealing it was you that he and his friends had heard that night. It was such an awkward conversation to have, and you’d decided against it when Pope put the pieces together himself.

“Wait, wait. Hold on,” he humorlessly chuckled. “Were you with him that night we were over? That night? The one Sarah was talking about?”

His dark eyes were hard as he looked at you, and with your silence being an answer enough, Pope scoffed, shaking his head in disgust.

“It was my idea to keep it a secret,” you confessed. “I wanted to tell you when I was ready because I was so happy then, and I didn’t want to spoil it. He was so good to me.”

You frowned.

“I really thought that he’d changed, and I could show you that, and we’d eventually move past all the uncomfortableness, but then he showed his true colors, and by the time I realized it, it was too late.”

Pope had been silent, taking in everything you were telling him.

“I thought I could just break up with him and put this behind me. I thought this would just be an unfortunate chapter in my life that you’d never have to know about,” you murmured, shaking your head. “If I knew that all of this would come from that night…”

You bit your lip, tears kissing your eyes as you thought over everything Rafe had put you through.

“I would’ve just walked home,” you tearfully breathed. “I would’ve just gone home and accepted my punishment in stride.”

“Hey,” Pope had whispered, wrapping his arm around you. “You just didn’t want to get in trouble. Of course, you’d take a ride from Rafe over being grounded.”

His words hadn’t made you feel better.

“You’re not to blame just because you’re eighteen and wanted to go to a party with your friends, and you’re not to blame for thinking Rafe actually changed. Especially when he was going out of his way to make you think he had.”

It had felt good to finally talk to Pope about this, but that good feeling hadn’t lasted long when he’d practically been begging you to press charges. You could tell that your refusal to do so worried him more than anything, but as weeks went by with no sign of Rafe, you entertained the thought that maybe you wouldn’t ever have to bring it up again.

The first week or so after that night he’d snuck into your room, you’d been more than paranoid. Checking your window repeatedly before bed, even waking up in the dead of night sometimes with a start, fearful that he was standing over you. After the second week and not even a word from him, you’d wondered if maybe your prayers were being answered.

You got a new phone, and even though Rafe could’ve easily gotten your new number from Cam or Bunny, you hadn’t gotten a single text or call from that familiar number. It was odd, to be honest. It was such a contrast to go from Rafe practically breathing down your neck to not hearing a single thing from him. Had he…finally given up?

It seemed impossible, too much wishful thinking, but you didn’t know what else to think. His last words hadn’t assured you he’d be leaving you alone, and for a moment, you almost thought that he was biding his time. For what, you didn’t know. His reaction to your abortion had your mind going to a place you didn’t even want to entertain, and that was how you found yourself getting new birth control pills.

They weren’t 100% effective, no, but considering you’d managed to get pregnant with the last ones, you decided to try a different kind altogether. You didn’t need a repeat of that fateful day where you’d been staring at several pregnancy tests with a forlorn look. Although, if things kept looking up, you’d have no possibility of becoming pregnant, anyway.

The longer you went with no sign of Rafe, the more you felt yourself starting to slowly relax.

“He’s been talking with our dad a lot,” you heard Sarah say. “About what? I don’t know.”

You were at John B.’s, or The Chateau as they liked the call it. Pope hadn’t been letting you out of his sight much, and you found that you didn’t mind. You knew he was just worried and scared and paranoid, and he honestly had every reason to be. It’d been weeks since you’d heard from Rafe, and while you weren’t completely delusional enough to think he was out of your life for good, you didn’t know how to tackle this silence.

He wasn’t hurting you or harassing you, and so, you took the opportunity to at least try and move on. You didn’t hang out with Cam and Bunny much for obvious reasons, and they were under the impression that you just weren’t feeling too good. Sometimes they did come by, but that was when you were actually home. These days, you found yourself around Pope’s friends a lot.

You were inside, just alone with your thoughts, and their voices carried from outside.

“It’s like he’s pretending that nothing happened, you know?”

You heard Sarah scoff.

“God, I can barely look at him without wanting to throw up,” she murmured.

You knew that feeling was from more than just what Pope knew. You had made both her and Kie promise not to say anything about what you’d told them. You knew they wouldn’t anyway, seeing as it wasn’t their place, but you needed to be sure because if Pope ever found out that Rafe had violated you in perhaps the worst way possible, you shuddered to think of what would come from it.

“How’s she doing?” you heard JJ wonder, lowering his voice, but it was so quiet out here that it carried anyway.

“I don’t know,” Pope sighed. “She hasn’t said much about it lately, but I think Rafe staying away is doing her some good.”

You heard him bitterly scoff.

“Then again, who am I to tell? She was sneaking around with Rafe for months, dealing with that asshole’s abuse for months, and I didn’t even know,” he said. “For all I know, she could be having the worst time of her life.”

You wanted to tell Pope that he was wrong.

Rafe staying away was doing you some good. There was still the thought in the back of your mind that he was going to pop up and snatch you away or something, but you finally had weeks to yourself to just think and process everything. You also wanted to tell Pope not to be too hard on himself. There was no way for him to ever guess that you and Rafe were involved.

Even Sarah had wrongly accused you of seeing Topper.

“Every time I think about how that asshole just…roped her into his bullshit, I get so mad,” Pope spat. “She’s really trusting, you know? Always has been, and he just…took advantage of that.”

Pope wasn’t wrong.

You’d always been the type to give people the benefit of the doubt or choosing to see the best in them. Even after Rafe had choked you out that night, your only focus had been on the non-deliberateness of it all. You hadn’t focused on the fact that Rafe shouldn’t have been high in the first place or that he should’ve been more careful with you. Only that it had been an accident.

…and taken advantage of you he had.

You’d had weeks to really just stew over your relationship, and you thought about Kie. You thought about if Kie had been drunk and Pope ignored her protests to slow down or stop and proceeded to have sex with her anyway, you’d kill him. You’d be so disgusted with him, and yet, it had taken you months to feel disgusted with Rafe over that night.

Looking back, it had been doomed from the start. You remembered how grateful you’d felt that Rafe had taken you home, let you shower, and proceeded to look after you while you sobered up. It hadn’t occurred to you then just how drunk you were, and Rafe… Well, he hadn’t hurt you. In fact, he’d been gentle with you, but it didn’t change the sinister intent behind his actions.

Why did it take you so long to realize it?

Maybe Pope was wrong.

Maybe you weren’t too trusting…but instead just stupid.

With a sigh, you pushed yourself to your feet, pausing and blinking at how lightheaded you felt. After that night, you’d mostly been staying away from alcohol, however, right now, you desperately needed a sip of something. You’d come to learn that John B. always kept some beer around. How he managed to do that while being under twenty-one? You had no clue, but you were thankful, nonetheless.

However, before you could even open the beer, preparing to hear Pope scold you, the room spun again. You put your hand out, pressing it against the fridge to steady yourself, and you furiously blinked. There was that lightheaded feeling again, and you could feel your body growing both weak and heavy all at once. The last thing you registered before you descended into darkness was the sound of the beer in your hand hitting the floor.

For a moment, it felt like you had merely blinked.

Standing in John B.’s house one moment…and laying down in a bed the next.

You couldn’t remember the last time you’d been in a hospital, an official one anyway. It felt like only seconds ago you’d been at The Chateau, but as you looked around, there was no denying where you were. You were in a hospital, and you couldn’t even begin to sort through your confusion. With a hand pressed to your head, you remembered feeling lightheaded, and you surmised that you’d fainted.

Luckily for you, you weren’t in the dark for long.

The doctor that came in was a friendly looking woman, and while there was something off about her smile, you did reluctantly return it.

“I’m relieved to see those eyes so clear and alert,” she teased, warning you before shining a light in them. “You gave your brother and his friends quite the scare.”

So, you had fainted.

“I did?”

She nodded with a hum, writing something down.

“They said you were unconscious when they found you,” she told you, checking your blood pressure and heartrate. “Luckily, it’s nothing to be too concerned about.”

Her choice of words had you frowning, and she noticed. You watched her hesitate for a moment, glancing at the folder in her hand before throwing you another smile.

“We just need to check a few more things, and then…you’ll be free to go…”

“Okay…”

Your tone was off, curiosity getting the better of you as you got the sense there was something she wasn’t saying. You watched her seem to hesitate, opening and closing her mouth before sitting on the edge of your bed, smile tight.

“Your brother was very concerned about what might be wrong with you, but…considering you’re eighteen, it’s not something I can discuss with anyone but you.”

That both relieved and worried you, and your brows drew together, waiting for the shoe to drop.

“Did you know you were pregnant?”

Bunny’s words went in one ear and out the other. It had taken way too much convincing to let Pope let you hang out with Cam and Bunny today. After your fainting spell at The Chateau, he was even more worried than usual, damn near afraid to let you out of his sight. He had good reason, you supposed, even if he didn’t know it.

Pregnant.

You were pregnant…again.

Considering a hospital pregnancy test was way more accurate than an at-home one, you believed the doctor when she told you that you were about four weeks along. You believed her even before she showed you the results because four weeks put you at about that night…or the night before. Which meant you’d been pregnant before you’d even started your new birth control.

“Thankfully there’s no increase of harm to it, so you don’t have to be concerned about birth defects or an early birth, but for obvious reasons, you will need to stop taking it,” she’d told you.

You really didn’t understand how you’d managed to get pregnant again, and in such a short amount of time too. It was like your old birth control hadn’t worked at all, and such a thought forced you to consider other forces at work that you didn’t even want to entertain. Rafe was a lot of things…but he wouldn’t…he couldn’t…

…and yet…

You closed your eyes, accepting that what you’d thought was a very light period was just freaking spotting. You found yourself in the same position as before, and if you went to Pope like last time, well…then you’d have to confess about what Rafe did, and you dragged your hands down your face.

Your only other options were to go to Sarah or Kie, or your own friends. If you were right about your suspicions, and Rafe had done this on purpose via his own words that night, then you really couldn’t chance him knowing. On the other hand, you didn’t know how Kie would feel about going behind Pope’s back like that and helping you out with this.

It wasn’t like you two were besties or anything, Kie being Pope’s girlfriend and friend before yours. The same went for Sarah, but she had less obligation to Pope than Kie, and she was looking like your best bet. You reminded yourself that you didn’t have to stress so much over it, right now. You were only about a month along, and with that thought, you told Bunny you weren’t feeling the best.

She was sad to take you home but did so anyway at your request.

“You’ve been under the weather a lot, lately,” she commented on the way to your house.

“Yeah,” you lightly said. “I keep trying to force myself to feel better when I’m actually not. I think my body is telling me to take it easy for a while.”

She chuckled, clearly under the impression you were referring to the partying and drinking you’d been doing for months. When she pulled into your yard, there was a car in the driveway that you didn’t immediately recognize. It definitely struck you as familiar for some reason, but you just couldn’t place it.

“Did your brother get himself a car?” Bunny wondered, and you hummed.

“I have no idea, but…I don’t think so.”

You waved her goodbye, curiously eyeing the vehicle as you made your way inside. As soon as you shut the door, you heard your mom call your name from the living room. As you started to make your way there, Pope rounded from the kitchen, eyes stricken and face pinched. He looked…panicked and scared and worried all in one. You frowned at him as he intercepted you.

“Leave,” he breathed. “Now.”

Your frown deepened, and you reared back a bit.

“What?” you quietly wondered. “What are you…?”

Your words died as your mom called your name again, and something about her tone worried you. You looked towards the living room just as your dad came to stand in the entrance. He didn’t look happy in the slightest, and his dark eyes cut to your brother, giving him a stern look.

“Pope, we need to talk to Y/N. Now.”

You watched Pope press his lips together, shoulders sagging in defeat as he failed to protect you from whatever was about to happen. With a helpless and terrified look thrown your way, he reluctantly stepped out of the way, listening to your dad.

“Pop’s-.”

Your dad made a noise that had Pope biting his tongue, and you didn’t miss the way the older man stared at you as you made your way to the living room. You froze at the entrance, faintly noting your dad brushing by you to sit by your mom on the couch. Your eyes were focused on the last pair you ever expected to see.

Ward and Rafe Cameron stared back at you as you struggled to move.

You blinked, lips parting as you finally realized why the car in the yard was so familiar. You’d seen it in passing so many times when you snuck into the Cameron’s house, and your mind whirled, unable too place why they were here. You looked between them and your parents, a shudder passing through you when your gaze met Rafe’s again.

His expression was even enough, but you knew him well enough to place that faint glint in his eyes.

That small glimmer of smugness.

“What’s…what’s going on…?”

You finally broke the silence.

Your father let out a heavy sigh, and you watched your mother take his hand. You looked towards Ward, never caring much for the man, and you took in the sympathetic smile on his face. You were so confused, and the longer the silence stretched, the more worried you grew.

“We know.”

Your mom’s words meant nothing to you as that could’ve applied to a myriad of things.

“We know about…”

She paused, taking a deep breath.

“…the baby.”

The only sound was that of your purse slipping from your fingers and falling to the floor. You stared at her in shock, a deep frown on your face as you processed what she’d said. No. There was no way. You yourself had only found out two days ago, and you hadn’t told a soul. So, how on earth could they know?

With that thought, your heart skipped a beat, and your gaze snapped to Rafe’s.

The blond was quiet, but the look on his face spoke volumes.

“Rafe has told us how scared you are…”

You could barely acknowledge her words as you and Rafe stared at each other.

“…and I know…I know this has to be terrifying for you, but Rafe, well… Rafe and his father decided to come to us face to face and make it clear that they want to do right by you.”

At that, your head snapped towards her, and you blinked back tears. The disappointment on your parents’ faces was clear as day, and you could see that your dad was much more upset about this than your mom. However, beyond all that though, you could see a tiny smidgen of hope in her eyes at the possible future where she had a grandchild.

Just how long had Rafe and Ward been here…and what the hell had they told them?

You heard Ward clear his throat, and you stumbled back, leaning against the wall, tongue pressed to your back teeth.

“Obviously, the way they went about things is not ideal…”

Your dad grumbled at that.

“…but Rafe made his intentions very clear to me. He does want this baby, and he does want to try and do things the right way.”

What did that even mean?

“My family will provide everything Y/N needs. Medical bills, doctor visits, all the prenatal care she’ll need…”

You shook your head, in disbelief that this was a real conversation. You could feel your stomach churning the more Ward talked, and you lifted your gaze, eyes meeting familiar blue ones again. Rafe was leaned back in the couch, head tilted just a tad, and the way the corner of his lips curved upwards into the faintest smirk had your eyes falling closed.

“…and, of course, well…” Ward paused. “We are a fairly traditional family, and Rafe does care about Y/N. Right, son…?”

“I love her.”

Your eyes flung open at that, looking right at him as your stomach twisted painfully. He wasn’t looking at your parents, but instead at you, and you trembled under his intense gaze.

“…and truthfully, I don’t feel right about bringing a child into this world with her without making her my wife.”

You jerked, and you pressed your hand to your mouth.

“I think I’m gonna be sick,” you mumbled, finally speaking up.

Your mom started to get up when you rushed out of the room, but Rafe beat her to it, playing the part of the dutiful unwed father perfectly. He rushed into the bathroom with you before you could keep him out, and you were too worried about making it into the toilet to push him away when his hand rubbed soothing circles on your back. More tears spilled over as you threw up again, and you knew that this had nothing to do with morning sickness.

You were violently ill with the realization of just how low Rafe would sink.

You felt his lips at your ear, hand coming up to play with your hair.

“I won’t make the same mistake twice,” he quietly purred in your ear, and you squeezed your eyes shut. “…I intend to keep what’s mine.”

His hand danced towards the back of your neck, and he leaned in to press his lips to the side of your head.

“One way or another.”

#dark!rafe cameron x reader #dark!rafe cameron #dark rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron #obx #obx fanfiction #obx fic #Outer Banks #outer banks fanfiction #rafe cameron fic #Dark Fic

[minniiaa]

The LawLu brainrot is crazy for me rn

Law is never desperate until he is. Like he doesn't need sex before Luffy, but once he just cuddles with Luffy once, he becomes so downbad. He thinks about Luffy fucking him like a ragdoll 24/7. It never leaves his brain and just being in the same room with Luffy makes him go crazy.

And then Luffy does fuck him and there's no going back ever again. He's more than just downbad. It's almost a problem. Shachi, Penguin, and Bepo have never heard him talk so much before, and it's all about Luffy. He can never get the man out of his head. And he just wants sex all the time. No thoughts, head empty, just his boyfriend fucking him into next week.

Thank you for coming to my tedtalk.

The brainrot is equally crazy over here but I subscribe to your headcanon as fact and it is one of my favorite Lawlu dynamics.

I feel like Law is one of those people who was always like... too busy for sex or it was too much of a chore for him. He has a million other things to worry about and his getting his dick wet is a last resort when he's really pent up and can't take it anymore (he'll just jerk off at that point, less work and less mess).

UNTIL LUFFY. Something about Luffy draws him in and fascinates him like no one ever has. People don't interest Law very much unless they are his patients and he can't figure out what it is about Luffy that has him analyzing every tiny movement and micro-expression he makes. He's infatuated by the way his muscles ripple when he moves, how he smiles just a little differently depending on who he's talking to, and especially the way his gaze always lingers a little too long when he looks at Law. Everything about him just gives Law butterflies like he's some teen girl having his first crush.

The first time they cuddle is by Luffy's request and Law says yes so fast that he almost dies on the spot at how desperate he sounds but Luffy doesn't seem to care. He finally gets to feel Luffy's strong arms around him, his soft hair tickling his cheek, and how warm his breath on his neck is. It breaks him, no he wants Luffy to break him. He's never been so horny in his life, he's never wanted someone this bad, and he has no idea why. Every time he looks at him those first initial touches, all he can think of Luffy absolutely railing him in every possible position and fantasizing about choking on his dick until he cries. He's both mortified and confused like yeah, Luffy is hot but he's Luffy. He's a moron most of the time. It's not like he's some kind of sex god or anything. There's no way...

He's totally wrong, there IS a way. He finally gets his wish and Luffy fucks him so good that it alters his brain chemistry forever. He's left staring at the ceiling, twitching and contemplating his entire life up to that point while Luffy gives him sweet little kisses and cuddles, telling him how good he did and how pretty he is. "That was really fun Torao, let's do it again," Luffy says and Law is virtually begging him for more not just then but every day after. He doesn't have to do much begging though, Luffy can just sense when he's in the mood like he's some sort of dog who can smell when he's turned on which is always now.

No matter what they're doing, Law just has to look at Luffy a certain way and he's dragging him somewhere to go fuck. Bathrooms, closets, backs of cars, doesn't matter. Normally Law would be horrified about this behavior but with Luffy, he doesn't give a damn, he just wants to be bent over and given the sweet but demanding treatment that Luffy always provides until he's turned into a needy, whiny mess. But it's never enough, no matter how far gone he is and how many times he cums, all he wants is more.

Everyone around him is so confused because ever since Luffy, Law has stopped acting like he has a stick up his ass all the time (they realize eventually it's because he now has something else there instead). He talks about Luffy constantly, likely without even realizing it which shocks his friends because Law was usually a listener and not a talker. He smiles, hell he even laughs and not in a creepy murderous way he used to.

Luffy takes up all the space in both his mouth (in more ways than one) and his brain and Law can't stop it nor does he want to. He's down HORRENDOUS for this man and Luffy just sits by with a stupid little satisfied smirk on his face, Law next to him or on his lap because he constantly needs to be touching some part of him when they're together. He knows that he's the best boyfriend ever and Law would never leave him in a million years not only because he's so head over heels in love, but because no one can please Law like he can.

#sorry this took so long!! #i wanted to give it the proper love #one piece #law #trafalgar law #luffy #lawlu #monkey d luffy #lulaw #lawlu headcanon #one piece lawlu #lawluffy

[justlikemebutsixfootthree]

direction -

pairing:  matty healy x f!reader

content: fingering, unprotected sex, matty can't shut the fuck up™, overstim

wordcount: 3743

this blog is 18+. minors, do not interact. this blog is a safe space. no hate or disrespect of any kind will be tolerated. all work is my own. do not reupload my work on any other site without my consent.

a/n: the people have spoken

your motto has always been "fake it till you make it". what started as something you'd say to yourself to get over anxieties slowly bled into other areas of your life, relationships included.

fake confidence until you have it. fake experience until you get some.

easy, right?

well, over time, you've become a pro faker. people rarely approach you cause they think you're arrogant.

and that suits you. who has time for superficial relationships anyways?

but then you met matty, who's gentle, kind, funny, smart. he never gave up on you, even if you sometimes came off as stand-offish, even if you acted like you were too good for him and men in general, even if you fought him every step of the way, surprised by his determination.

in the beginning, you played along. you let him try to woo you, let him compliment you and take you out. you responded to all of his texts, even if you are both too old to be texting like high schoolers. slowly but surely, he made you drop the façade, at least around him, which is when your relationship became more than just teasing glances and flirty texts.

everything led up to where you are now: in matty's stupidly comfortable bed, wearing his stupidly warm sweater, kissing his stupidly pretty face.

the movie he had put on was some cheesy horror flick: lots of fake blood, shitty special effects, and a naive main character. it's long forgotten though, mediocre soundtrack serving as background noise to a much more exciting activity.

you've always prided yourself on how strong you were, not being easily swayed by your sexual urges. fake it until you make it - but what then?

what if matty expects you to rock his world tonight? what if he thinks you'll take the lead, with the same (fake) confidence you do everything else? 

technically, you know how it should all work, but you have no first-hand experience. your sexual endeavours end pretty fast, either with you giving up on the guy or them thinking you're too demanding for someone who isn't putting out. either way, it’s good riddance, and you’ve never had regrets about not having sex before. 

once, during your intense college years, you had to present your research in front of all your peers. the stress caused you to lose sleep, and you replaced eating with frantic rewriting. by the time the due date rolled around, your brain was scrambled, and you were positive you were going to puke all over the front row of desks.

now, underneath the warm weight of your boyfriend, you’re feeling exactly the same way. what if you manage to do something so revoltingly off-putting he can never look at you again?

"hey."

matty's soft voice shocks you out of your quickly spiralling head. he's looking down at you with gentle, but confused, eyes.

"you've gone all stiff on me, love. you feelin' okay?"

you should've known he'd see through your wall of false confidence.

"y'know we don't have to do anything, right? you look like you're about to cry."

you refuse to dignify that with a response as heat floods your face and, mortifyingly, prickles in your sinuses. he sighs, rolling off of you and laying on his side, facing you.

“that was meant to make you laugh.”

you try to smile at him and feel your lips wobble instead.

“hey. i'm being serious, what’s going on in there?” he brings his hand up, stroking his fingers through your hair.

“i don’t want to repulse you,” you whisper.

he frowns. "you've got a horrific confidence problem. there is nothing, and i mean nothing, repulsive about you. and besides, i've already seen you at your grossest. remember when you got mono and your neck was all swollen?"

you glower at him. “yeah, and i caught it from you! that makes me feel so much better.”

shaking his head, his next words are insistent. 

“i mean it. did you know, that every time we go out, someone tells me how lucky i am? c'mon, darling, you know i wouldn't be saying this shit if it wasn't true.”

“i know, and i want to, but fuck, matty it's going to be so bad.”

“well yeah, with that attitude it will. we’re gonna figure out what you like, but only if you want to.”

his eyes are soft, looking down at you with unguarded warmth. 

clearing your throat, you fidget nervously with the edge of your (his) sweater.

“so. how - um - how do you want to...?”

he grins crookedly. “move to the middle of the bed.”

swallowing hard, you follow his instructions, legs splayed flat out in front of you as you lean back on your elbows, staring at him expectantly.

“this is about you, okay? whatever you want to do, we can do. including nothing, if it doesn’t feel right.”

your voice is barely more than a whisper. “want you to touch me.”

you could swear you hear a little hitch in his breath, and mustering all the courage you have, you meet his gaze. his mouth is slightly open, the curved bow of his upper lip revealing the edges of his white teeth, and you watch as he presses his lips closed, nodding.

"okay. you gotta talk to me, yeah? tell me if you want me to stop, if something feels good, or if you want more. deal?”

“deal,” you breathe back.

he moves, bending his head to press his mouth on the side of your neck. something splinters hot down the centre of your body, and it takes you a second to realize that it’s desire, pure and hard, crystalline. you can already feel slick warmth in your underwear, and you haven’t even started.

“oh,” you gasp, the round syllable small in your mouth, and he lowers his hand, smoothing down the bunched fabric of your (his) sweater, following the swell of your hip, moving slowly so you have time to breathe.

“good?” he murmurs, and you nod dumbly.

he inches lower, hand flat on your leg, fingers resting just a hairsbreadth from your centre. matty drags his hand lightly along the inside of your thigh, opening his mouth on your neck, tongue hot as he presses it to the softness of your skin.

“how ‘bout now?”

“mhm,” you manage.

unbearably careful, he brushes the tip of his index finger along the seam of your pants, the pressure light, but precise, right against the place you’re most sensitive. your left leg jerks as though you’ve been shocked, and he freezes his hand there, lips sealing around your neck, holding you until you stop twitching with alarm.

you can already feel a steady pooling in your underwear, and you shift uncomfortably against him, unsure if you’re doing it to relieve the ache between your legs or to increase the friction against you.

still moving with absolute restraint, he presses down, a slow, controlled line directly down the centre of your cunt. the tension in every single joint is making you shake, muscles burning with the effort of holding still, and you swear you feel something crack as he eases his touch up to rest at the waistband of your pants, before sliding his hand underneath.

“you still with me?" he murmurs and you can’t move, can’t speak, can’t breathe.

his callused fingers are resting just above your pussy, palm lightly pressed to the rise of your mound, and he lifts his lips to graze your ear.

“you gotta talk to me,” he reminds you.

you shudder, releasing your held breath, shoulders sore from the stiffness of your body. 

“yes. yes, i’m - it’s good, please don’t stop.”

he opens his hand, letting his middle finger drag slowly between your folds, and you feel it at the same moment he does; you’re soaked.

so unbelievably wet it feels like something’s gone wrong and you want to shut your legs and crawl away from him. your skin is prickling with heat as you feel a slow line of sweat roll down the back of your leg, making you squirm, desperate to shuck your skin.

“oh, baby..." he breathes, the edges of his teeth scraping your earlobe. “you’re soaked.”

clenching your eyes shut, your is voice petulant as you murmur back to him.

“i can’t help it, i don’t know why, it’s not my fault. i -"

“shush. it’s so fucking hot. you’re so reactive,” he says, voice gravelly. he slides a second finger to join the first, parting them and spreading your folds. even through the fabric of your pants, you can both hear the slick sound and you want to die; burrow into a hole somewhere and never come out. as though sensing your squirming agony, he chooses that moment to ease both fingers inside you, and your heart stops in your chest at the slow stretch.

this is matty. your matty. and right now his fingers are inside you, stretching you open.

the thought alone is enough to make your entire body throb with a sudden, overpowering pulse and you feel yourself clench around him unconsciously. he groans into your ear.

“you’re so tight. shit, you feel perfect. does that feel good?”

you can’t speak, nodding helplessly against him. he withdraws a couple of centimetres, easing back inside slower but deeper than before, hooking his fingers slightly inside you. your hips flex against his touch, trying to encourage him to keep moving as he rolls his thumb over your clit, and you see stars.

matty's touch feels as confident as the way he performs; like he was born to do this; like he could do it in his sleep.

he drags his fingers inside you, and your pelvis lifts unconsciously to follow his movements, trying to chase the feeling.

“you’re doing so good, baby. you're so pretty, so fucking hot. y'gonna come for me, love?”

despite the intensity of the sensations between your legs, it’s his words that tip you over the edge. you bite down hard on your bottom lip, trying to contain the high-pitched groan as your muscles clamp around his fingers, cunt fluttering. You feel your warmth coating his fingers, and he rides you through it, his movements only easing to a stop once your body has relaxed into a melted heap draped over him.

slowly, he withdraws his fingers from your pants, sliding out from underneath you and lowering your malleable, floppy limbs onto the bed. you watch him drunkenly as he sits up in front of you on his knees, gaze snagging on his hand.

you’re mortified at the sight of the clear viscous fluid stretching between his parted fingers, and you just about die of embarrassment as he brings his hand to his lips, sliding them into his mouth and sucking them clean.

“perfect. you’re perfect,” he tells you, and you want to cover your face, but you’re pinned there, watching. his pants are tented tellingly in the front, and you’re trying not to make it obvious but you can’t tear your gaze away. 

“told you. nothing wrong with you,” he informs you, grinning.

“i’m gonna take your pants off,” he says, and you lift your hips helpfully, earning a little twist from his lips at your enthusiasm. sliding your legs free, he settles on his knees. your eyes are drawn back helplessly to the bulge in his pants, and he catches you looking.

“matty, i want - want you to...”

“what, love? c'mon, talk to me.” he crawls up over you, braced on his hands and knees, leaning down.

“fuck me.”

he raises an eyebrow. “you need a break first?”

in response, you lift your hips to press against the hard outline of his straining cock. he ducks his head, leaning his weight up on one arm as he kicks his pants down and you watch the muscles in his shoulder work through the thin fabric of his shirt.

“i’m gonna fuck you so good, baby. you want that?”

“yeah,” you whisper. “yes, do it, please.” 

“do what?” matty asks with a wry smile. he’s propped up on one elbow now, gazing down into your raw, open face. “c’mon, you've got to say it for me, angel.”

you let out a shaky sigh, a hand sliding down to the back of matty's neck. you pull him close, so your lips brush. “please fuck me. need you so bad.”

matty's eyes flutter closed for a moment. he breathes out hard, then leans away, and sits up. he's struggling with getting his pants all the way off, so you help the best you can, feeling fluttery and strange, in a feverish trance of pleasure, dumb with anticipation for more.

“please,” you mutter, “please, come on, i want it-”

“fuck, fuck, okay…” matty says, chuckling. “you gotta take it easy with the begging, sweetheart. i’m already putting everything i have into not coming the second i get inside you.” 

flushing, you brush the stray curls from matty's face. "you said you'd make it good. so shut up, and fuck me already."

"there’s my favourite brat,” matty says with a grin, then he’s holding himself at your entrance, easing in slowly, a hand on your waist. 

he’s big. you have a moment of panic at the stretch, and you gasp, hands flying up to grasp at his forearms as though you could somehow control the movement of his hips that way.

his teeth are pressed to his lip, eyes shut, and you wonder exactly how tight it is for him as he shudders through an exhalation. he forces his eyes open to look down at you, concern evident, checking up on you even as his arms shake with the effort of holding still.

“oh, sh - shit. you good?”

nodding, you release your own held breath with a shudder, your entire body trembling violently underneath him, thighs aching from how tightly wound your muscles are. he sinks down another inch and you both hiss in synchrony, your fingers tightening around his arms just as his tighten around your waist.

“you’re doing so good baby, you’re taking me so well, you feel perfect,” he’s breathing, the fullness unbearable. you arch your neck to look down at where you’re split open around him, the sight enough to make your breath hitch in your chest. he looks down in time to see your eyes widen, and he follows your gaze, his strangled intake of breath following.

“you see that? see how perfect you are? fuck, you’re so beautiful, you’re so tight, you feel incredible...” 

you press your lips to his, stopping his unhinged babbling. you’re trying your hardest just to concentrate on taking his thick cock, breathing through the desperate ache as he slowly forces you open. he parts his lips against yours and you press your tongue against him, seeking more. his groaning response makes him slip, losing control for one second, just long enough to let him sink the rest of the way inside you. he’s trying to break from your lips, but you don’t want to listen to whatever it is he’s about to say, so you gently bite down on his lower lip, holding him captive. his hips flex helplessly into you as he tries to talk again, and despite your breathlessness, you could almost laugh at the fact that even now, typically; matty healy just cannot shut the fuck up.

the agonizing, all-encompassing stretch is slowly easing into something else; something bright and hard, sending skittering shockwaves up through your stomach. experimentally you flatten your feet on the bed under you, using the leverage to push your hips up and—shit, it’s too much, too full, you can’t possibly take any more of him but then right there, the angle shifts, and something snaps in your brain.

you wrench your head back, keening as you try to grind up into that spot, that fucking spot. matty's eyes are unfocused, his expression pained.

“baby, wait, wait a sec,” and you can’t help but roll yourself against him again, making him choke.

“what’s wrong?” you breathe back, unable to keep still, your legs trembling with the effort of holding yourself up against him.

“is this...not good?” you ask, suddenly small.

he doesn’t answer right away, and you watch as sweat beads on his upper lip, his eyes still squeezed shut.

“matty?” you try again and he makes a strangled sound, eyes snapping open to pin you down.

“say my name again,” and you barely shape your lips around it before he’s hissing, driving his hips down to smack hard into yours, knocking the breath from your lungs. 

“d’yknow how - how many times i’ve thought about this? About being inside you like this?” he punctuates his words with short, hard thrusts. “you’re fucking perfect. your pussy's, fuck - fucking perfect.”

your face erupts with heat at his words. he catches you flinching and his eyes light, grinning even as you watch the muscles in his shoulders shake with the effort of controlling himself.

“why’s that make you shy? don’t like me talking about your pussy? you wanna know how good you feel, baby? you’re—shit,” another shallow thrust, his brows pinching together, “so tight and, fuck, taking me so well…” his rambling trails out into nonsensical murmurs. 

he’s slowly working into a rhythm, flexing his hips backwards, still short and shallow but he’s angling himself so precisely, right against the place where you can’t stand, and it’s too much. you squirm back into the mattress, trying to escape, but there’s nowhere to go as the sensation swells to a crest. you tighten around him, your legs falling limp, your fingers creeping up into his hair, needing something to brace yourself against as the growing reverberations between your legs throb outwards, filling your stomach with heat.

you can almost see your orgasm rocketing up through you, your vision cutting out right as you shatter with a pathetic moan of his name. your cunt clamps down on him hard, again and again, rippling around him. he watches you fall apart, his breathing steady despite the tremor in his limbs. he barely gives you a minute to recover before he’s moving again, deepening his thrusts, expression one of absolute focus. the sheer concentration in his eyes scares the shit out of you; you know that look. it’s the one he gets whenever someone tells him no to an idea in the studio, when someone says that he shouldn't put out another black and white music video, when his bullish stubbornness completely takes over.

matty leans back, raising himself onto his knees between your spread legs. he brings a hand under each of your knees, crooking your legs up around his waist as he works in and out of you, the wet squelch of your cunt loud over the muffled sounds of the forgotten movie as he begins to fuck you in earnest. you can’t breathe, incapacitated by the shuddering of your legs, your stomach muscles clenching as your body desperately tries to keep up with your frantic gasping. your back is arched, your shoulders forced down into the bed with the force of each thrust as he reaches down between your bodies, his fingers finding your clit as easily as though your body is laid out the same as his guitars or keyboards, practised and nimble.

sweat prickles your skin anew as his fingers drag you higher and incomprehensibly higher and you wail, slapping a hand over your mouth to still the sound. he leans over you, the triangle of bare skin at his chest gleaming with sweat, fine silver chain glinting under the edge of his shirt. he grabs your wrist and moves your hand aside, pinning it to the bed beside your head.

"hey, hey. c'mon babe, let me hear you." he times a perfectly-aligned thrust with a firm stroke over your clit and, unable to stop yourself, you let out a breathless moan. he grins, chuckling breathily.

"god, you sound so good. prettiest fuckin' thing ive ever heard," he murmurs, voice ragged. he rips the sound from you again, and again, watching greedily. it’s too much, way too much and you’re already over the edge of another orgasm before you realize what’s happening, eyes rolling back in your head, mouth open in wordless pleasure.

this time he doesn’t slow down, instead increasing the pressure on your clit, fucking you deeper. his cock hits something sharp high up in your guts and you sob as another orgasm rolls up from your stomach, washing over the last climax. your hips twitch helplessly against his grip as he fucks you through each wave of pleasure, and you think you’re coming again, or still coming, you can’t tell anymore, time losing all meaning as your cunt sucks wet at his cock, bearing down on him vice-tight.

some impossible time later, you realize his breaths have shortened into gasps. his hips stutter and he leans back down over you, arms braced on either side of your head as his pace falls out of its steady rhythm. you manage to regain control of yourself long enough to reach a hand up to the back of his neck, feeling the hem of his shirt under your fingers. he looks down at you, and his mouth drops open, eyes dropping shut as he groans your name, low and rough, and as he plunges in deep you actually feel him coming before he does. his back curves over you, his forehead pressed to yours as his hips shudder, and the tightening of his stomach muscles against yours is echoed inside you as his cock throbs, filling you.

he lays heavy on your chest, both of you panting. everything is so slick underneath you, you can’t tell what’s sweat and what’s cum, your skin feverish. you shift your thighs restlessly, sticky and aching and he raises his head, looking down at you.

“was that...okay?” you breathe, self-conscious again.

his eyes shut briefly as he shakes his head.

“you’re crazy. she’s crazy,” he says to nobody in particular, lifting himself over you, hands pressing into the mattress. 

gasping, you sit up on your elbows to look down at him.

“what are you doing?”

his tongue laves long stripe along your still-sensitive pussy, dipping briefly inside before he breaks the contact to look up at you, eyebrow raised.

“cleaning you up. you thought we were done?”

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[jimilter]

on the borderline — 04 | pjm. (m)

Park Jimin has been your buoy, your anchor and the ship of sanity that guides you to shore amid storms of self-doubt, nearly all your life; as have you been his. That is not to say nothing has ever brewed beneath the surface of platonic friendship, or that the two of you have never been victims to mistiming. Regardless, you would never risk the friendship you have with him now for anything. Even if you have to hurt him – or even yourself – in the process.

pairing: jimin x reader

rating: m (18+)

genre: humor | drama | friends to lovers!au

word count: 9.3 k

— warnings: swearing + mentions of a past toxic relationship + mentions of therapy/therapists + mentions of sex (some get detailed and explicit, hence the rating!) + some descriptive r-rated daydreaming + emotional constipation at its peaK + denial at its peaK + reader is a mess throughout + jimin cooking breakfast without a shirt 🚨 (will add more if i notice anything while proofreading!)

— note: HAPPY 10 YEARS TO BANGTAN - MY LOVE, MY HEART, MY WORLD! 🥺💜 hello world, i've crawled out of the grave two months later - who remembers me? :] anyways, parts of this aren't proofread (esp the last 2k words) bec i finished jusssst in time to post this today. will edit it in a day, tops! drop me a word~

ps. the rating, genre and warnings mentioned above pertain to this chapter, only.

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𝐈𝐕 ⇢ 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐅 ♪ i’m sinking faster and faster

What wakes you up is the inability to move your leg. 

It’s not like you urgently need to move, either; you were just casually trying to wiggle into a more comfortable sleeping position, like everyone does at nine am on a Saturday morning, when you encountered a hindrance. Your sleep is disturbed, not out of discomfort, but more out of confusion.

Murmuring a curse under your breath, you part your crusty ass eyelids to peer at the warm and heavy human-like pillow that is laying above your blanket and restricting your movement. Wait, this pillow feels a little too giant. You do not have pillows as giant as—

Holy shit, it’s Jimin!

With a deep and loud and dramatic gasp, last night rushes back to you.

The wine, the movie, the kiss you initiated to prove that you and Jimin could kiss without making things weird – great joke, by the way – the kiss Jimin then initiated God knows why, the really good making out and the…

Fuck, the way he ate you out? You don’t remember the last time someone did it so—

Feeling your cheeks starting to heat up, you snap out of it. He’s Jimin, for fuck’s sake! Park jimin! Your childhood best friend, Park Jimin!

Your childhood best friend Park Jimin who is fantastic in bed—

No. Nope.

This is serious. And it’s bad.

Oh, God this is bad.

The heat that was climbing up your cheeks has now rerouted to your head, and your brain is slowly vaporizing under the tension.

Meanwhile, Jimin is fucking snoring away like an oblivious, angelic fucker. What? No, not angelic, no matter how soft his pouted lips look when he’s asleep, he was a demon with you in this very bed.

Almost subconsciously, you reach behind you to run a hand across the skin of your butt. It’s squeaky clean. Did he clean you up after you’d fallen asleep?

Blinking, you snap yourself out of the tender thoughts. This is no place to be thinking how good of a friend he was for cleaning you up when the reason why you were dirty had no friendly causes, whatsoever.

“Jimin!” you hoarsely call out to him, voice scratchy like sandpaper and honestly, too damn low to wake up your best friend who sleeps like a log.

Sitting up under the constricting blanket with difficulty, you scowl at him and shove his shoulder. 

“Park Jimin! Wake the fuck up!”

No movement, not even a change in his breathing pattern, not even a lapse in the muted snores.

“Jimin!” you try a little louder this time, patting his cheek – so soft and warm, it’s hard to remove your hand from it – and he finally stirs. “Hey, wake up!”

Petulantly whining, he turns his head to the other side. “W’ass th’ime?”

What? Oh, time? 

You check your bedside clock. “Uh, it’s nine. Oh fuck! You have a flight at noon! Wake up, Jimin!”

He groans and tries to fucking turn away. “I can get ready in an hour… Lemme just… th’rty minuhs…”

“Jimin, oh my God—” You break off, choosing to instead tug the blankets off him.

And. Well. It backfires, because he’s as naked as you underneath that. Almost involuntarily, your gaze traces his defined pectorals and travels down across his very prominent abdominal muscles, and then – 

You shut your eyes.

He’s hard.

Swallowing roughly, you clumsily tug the blanket back up to his waist, shivering a little when your fingers accidentally brush his warm skin.

“Jimin,” you begin again, weakly, “please wake up. We really need to talk.”

That makes him sigh and finally crack one eye open to peer up at you. “What do you—”

His lips part, scanning the way you sit with your shoulders bare and covers held up to your chest.

“Oh.”

You can see the moment recollection makes it back to him, both eyes opening, now and widening just a fraction. Then he exhales and promptly shuts his eyes again.

What?

Is he going back to sleep?

“Jimin, what the fuck? Get up!”

With a grumpy whine, Jimin finally moves to sit up in bed, scowling at you with his whole face and looking absolutely adorable. Wait, no—

“What is it?” he murmurs through his pouty mouth, eyes swollen and barely open. “What couldn’t wait for thirty fucking minutes?”

Your jaw slowly drops. “Do… you do remember that we had sex last night, right?”

He nods. “Couldn’t be more obvious.” He points at a dark mark on your chest peeking above the blanket you’ve wrapped around yourself.

Tugging the damn cloth higher up, you gape at the guy. He sits simply blinking at you, and you can’t tell if he’s just sleepy or really that unbothered. “And…? Doesn’t it, like, bother you? At all?”

“Bother me?” He frowns and cocks his head to the side, looking at you as if you’re speaking a language he can’t understand. 

“Jimin. We had sex.”

He blinks again, nonchalant as fuck, and then nods. “Yes, we did.”

At your wit’s end, you fist your free hand in your hair. “Dude. We – we had sex. It… It…”

Your stuttering, already mortifying in itself, gets tenfold worse when you can’t find the words to express yourself. Or maybe you do have the words, but you’re not sure how to voice how shockingly your world has been turned upside down when the other half of the involved party looks this cool about it. You are starting to feel like you’re making a big deal out of nothing – but you know it’s not fucking nothing!

“It was… amazing?” Jimin finishes for you with raised eyebrows, looking more awake but still as unbothered, and that is absolutely not where you were going with your sentence. But he’s not done: “Fantastic? Uncannily good and possibly the best sex you’ve had in a while? ’Cause same.”

And now he’s grinning at you and you’re at a loss. Frowning furiously to hone your focus in when your head has started to ache, you shake your head and try again. “Ye–yeah, all – all of that, yes, but also something that shouldn’t have happened!”

Jimin’s eyes narrow at you. “Are you trying to tell me you regret it?”

“Yes! Obviously! You don’t?”

“Why would I?” He shrugs his shoulders and brushes a hand through his hair, not a single expression changing on his face. “It was really good, we used protection and—”

“Okay, stop!” You interrupt him with a wince, eyes screwed shut. “I cannot do this without coffee.”

—

"I—wow. Maybe I can't do this with a coffee either.” You have frozen at the entrance to your kitchen to gape at the sight of your best friend's shirtless back as he sears something in a pan on the stove. “Not without a whole fucking pot of it.”

At your declaration, Jimin turns his head to cock an eyebrow at you over a shoulder, and you shoot a curse at yourself in your head for the clench your insides give. He looks so good like this. It's so wrong and wholly unfair.

Because you have hung out with a shirtless Jimin plenty of times in your life. You’ve objectively admired his build, too, because one – it has been your duty as his best friend and regular wingwoman to give him reviews, and two – for a female that likes men, you’d have to have been a saint to not admire his beautiful body, like, come on.

But never have you ever had such a visceral reaction to the sight. This is what you get for getting to know all those solid muscles up close and personal and freaking tasting his skin, you’ve been so fucking stupid, good God—

"Please put on a shirt, man," you sigh, attempting to avert your eyes but failing.

Jimin, the absolute dick, rolls his eyes at your request. And then just snorts at you and turns back to the stove, as if he finds the suggestion hilarious. As if you're not seconds away from throwing yourself at him and damaging your friendship more than it has been damaged so far. 

Why is he acting so normal? You’re starting to hate your best friend.

After your conversation had been halted in the bedroom, you left the bed to wash your face and throw on a fresh hoodie because you did not wanna wear the one that’s been sitting on your living room floor all night, not when it reminds you of where and how Jimin ate you out. Dear God. You also stole some coffee from the pot while Jimin washed his face. After which you tossed him out to brush your teeth because your mouth tasted like ass, and assumed he'd use the time to dress up because he had to leave soon.

You did not expect the very domestic sight of him cooking – let alone the very erotic version of it that his state of undress depicts.

And now you're experiencing a meltdown because the man's back muscles are visibly rippling with his motions. The slight bruises you've caused by running your nails across them shine a brilliant red against the taut, golden skin. Taunting you. Reminding you of how you lost your goddamn mind, last night.

You feel embarrassed. But you also feel horny.

Which makes you feel doubly embarrassed.

The guy stays completely unbothered, though, humming to himself and fiddling with the damn omelet he's making that smells too fucking good and makes your stomach rumble.

Why is he making your life so difficult, in every single way?

Sighing, you collect all remnants of your willpower, sanity and self-respect, to turn away and stomp your way back to your bedroom. Grabbing a hoodie from your closet, you stomp your way back to the kitchen, this time stepping in and bravely walking up to your best friend, and press the article of clothing into his back.

"Min. Please just put some clothes on and let me have a full cup of coffee. Please."

This time Jimin fully turns to face you with amusement in his eyes and concealed laughter on his lips if the way he's got them pursed is anything to go by. You resolutely do not look beyond his face, instead turning your gaze to the tamagoyaki this man has expertly whipped up in the time it took for you to brush your teeth.

"This looks so good, how'd you make it?"

Jimin steps away with a laugh, finally accepting the hoodie from you to throw it on. "You had an appropriate pan and nice, bamboo chopsticks. That's all it takes."

That is not all it takes, but you're gonna stop arguing because the three sips of coffee that you could stomach with your unbrushed mouth have been exhausted by this interaction and you need more fuel to go on.

So you and Jimin find yourselves on your kitchen island with the Japanese omelet, a pot of coffee and your respective mugs, quietly eating, sipping and holding a staring contest.

Because now that he's appropriately covered, all the reasons why last night was a horrific idea have made their way back to you. You feel like this is the last time you're sitting and eating together, and it's becoming increasingly hard to stomach the impossibly delicious omelet Jimin has prepared.

He is the one to eventually break the stare, giggling at you when you glare at him over the rim of your mug. “Stop looking so mad, babe. So maybe last night shouldn’t have happened, but at least it was good, yeah?”

“How can you be so fucking happy and calm when I’m literally going through an existential crisis, right now?”

Amusement in his curved eyebrows, Jimin hums as he takes a sip from his cup. “Ever heard of post-orgasmic afterglow?”

“For fuck’s sake, Min!” Throwing your head back, you release a groan. “We really got drunk and put our friendship on the line! We – we swore we’d never do anything to jeopardize our bond and then we have sex like some stupid horny teenagers? Last night should not have happened, Jimin!”

That makes him clear his throat and stop laughing. And then, with the most straight face ever, he asks you: “Okay, but at least the sex was good, right?”

You are fucking dumbfounded. “The sex—”

“Was it or wasn’t it? You haven’t said a word about the quality of the sex and I’m starting to get worried…”

“Jesus Christ, yes, it was fucking bomb, but—”

“Well, then that's one win!” He claps his hand together, stepping off his seat to walk up to you and put both his palms on your shoulders. “Now that we are past that, rest assured that this won’t affect our friendship. I promise.”

“You can’t promise that—”

“I can and I am. I’ve known you since we were, like, twelve.”

“I hated you when we were twelve,” you remind him with a pout.

He laughs at that. “Yeah, but you also had a crush on me when we were thirteen, so explain that, huh?”

Despite the events of last night, his mention of your past crush on him still manages to make your cheeks heat up. Doesn’t help that he looks like this when he’s talking about it, all soft in the huge hoodie you basically forced him, a sweet smile pulling his lips up and eyes sparkling.

“We are way beyond ruining our friendship, trust me,” he tells you again, jostling you by your shoulders. “And honestly, this doesn’t have to affect anything if we don’t let it. So we have great sexual chemistry. Honestly, are you really that surprised?”

You’re really not because your brain has been going wild ever since his birthday party, but what the hell does he mean by that?

At your wide eyes, he throws his head back in a laughter.

“Hasn’t it always been like that between us?”

“Like what?” You feel so fucking clueless, you’re half afraid Jimin’s about to call you out on your confession of your fantasizing and you’re bracing yourself for the embarrassment.

“We get on each other’s nerves all the time, but we also love each other. Those sorts of things tend to build sexual tension, dude,” he explains as if he's telling you about a scientific experiment, and you shove his hands off of you with a scowl.

“You didn’t just talk about our supposed sexual tension and then call me dude in the same sentence, weirdo.”

He’s laughing now, eyes disappearing in a squint as his cheeks push up into them, and the sight is too endearing for you to not smile in adoration. “My point was,” he finally concludes, “that we can make it work. It doesn’t have to happen again, we don’t even have to ever talk about it.”

You like the sound of that. Humming, you take a sip from your coffee and nod. “That sounds like something I'd like to do. Can we put this in the past forever?”

“Yes, we can.” Jimin nods, giving you a thumbs-up before he raises his eyebrows. “I mean, I can’t promise I won’t make jokes about some stuff, because, boy do you have the weirdest erogenous zones. The way you went crazy when I bit into your shoulder? I mean who—”

“Hey, shut the fuck up! I have normal erogenous zones!” You seamlessly slip into the banter, pointing a finger at him. “It’s you that has an ass fetish. You exploded at the sight of my ass!”

A loud gasp leaves him and Jimin places a hand on his chest. “Are you trying to kink shame me?”

“You started it!”

“But you made it worse.” Jimin sighs, dramatically pinching the bridge of his nose. “You know what? You were right. Sleeping with your best friend is a bad idea, and this is why. You already know each other inside out, the only thing you’re unaware of is each other’s sexual lunacy. Now we’ve broken that barrier, we’re absolutely gonna kill each other.”

You’re barely able to keep your face straight after that, breaking into loud laughter. Because he isn’t wrong. You know for a fact you have never had that reaction to being bitten on the shoulder, obviously. Not that you can even recall someone’s teeth being there. But with Jimin, it was just something about him that did the trick. 

His joke alleviates the pressure that this realization could bear down on your chest, though, and that feels a lot freeing.

Maybe this can be okay. Maybe you can move forward without a wall of awkwardness rising between you two.

You will move on with your lives and treat last night as something that came your way – and then passed. Kind of like your crushes on each other during your teenage years. It helped that they never really coincided, but it also had to have helped that you never gave them enough importance to even discuss what you had felt, at the time.

Maybe you shouldn’t be giving this as much importance, either.

It’s you and Jimin! Homies! Bros for life, remember?

Yes, you absolutely do.

So you lean in to hug the guy. “This cannot change anything, okay? Please.”

“It won’t if we don’t let it, you crazy woman.” He laughs but loops his arms around you to tug you closer. “And I don't intend to let that happen.”

You don’t either.

You don’t.

You really don’t.

But…being this close to him is giving you flashbacks to being this close to him when you were naked, and that is making you feel hella hypocritical. Maybe this is just your version of an afterglow; maybe your brain's still high on serotonin. You’ll get over it after this heady rush of last night's multiple orgasms has left. 

Clearing your throat, you separate from him with a tight smile – only to come face to face with a blooming purple and red mark at the base of his throat.

“Fuck, I left a mark!”

Jimin tries to follow your gaze with a cocked eyebrow, but when he can’t, you place a finger against the spot, smudging it as if you’re trying to wipe lipstick off. Which Jimin snorts at, “Yeah, that’s not gonna erase a hickey, ma'am.”

Jimin’s snickering is met by your groan, and you push a finger into his chest. “Please cover that up before you leave for your trip. And keep it covered? You’ve packed turtlenecks, right? You’re obsessed with them!”

Laughter trickles through Jimin, nostrils flared because he has his lips folded in to hold it in. “Why? I could just tell them my girlfriend gave them to me as a parting gift. No one'll question me, anyways.” 

“Dude, you’re going with Tara! And I had a very long conversation with Avni, and—” You break off, unsure about divulging the details of that conversation. “And she…knows we’re just friends.”

“Oh, yeah. Tara. She, um, she’s not the type to ask questions, you know?”

Now that he’s kinda awkwardly looking away and stumbling with his sentence again, you’re reminded of the way he’d stuttered about Tara's name on the phone as well. From what you know, the girl has a husband. Why is your best friend being so suspicious about her?

“But I could always say someone else did this.”

Now wait just a second. Why does that make you wanna scowl?

What kind of teenager shit is this? ‘I worked on this hickey, don’t give someone else the credit?’

God, you need an aspirin.

His dick game really has you hovering in a limbo. But to be fair, it hasn’t even been a whole twelve hours ever since you got into it.

This is definitely gonna take you some time to get over.

Good thing Jimin’s leaving for the next few days, then.

“Do whatever, just – I don’t wanna hear your secretary telling any more of your clients about your girlfriend visiting your office, okay?”

He blinks at you, lips pouted in mock innocence. “Even if it's not you?”

“What? No! Our pact still holds!”

“What if you and Seokjin hit it off tonight, though?”

Seok—

Holy shit, you forgot about Seokjin!

What the fuck is wrong with you? You have a maybe-can-be-probably date with a guy and you literally slept with someone else the night before? It’s obviously worse that it was your best friend, but even so. How did you not even remember about the date? 

Wow, you hoe. This is a new low.

And damn, you and Jimin never ended up having that discussion about your ability to recognize your feelings, after all.

Well. After the events of last night, you don’t think you’ll be needing that conversation, after all. It’s bad enough that you had sex with someone other than the guy you’re going to dinner with, the least you can do is respect both the men enough to not make it a date.

Even as the narrative plays out in your head, you know you’re mostly making excuses. And maybe that should be enough to tell you how desperately your subconscious does not wanna get back into the aspects of romance.

If only the people around you (read: Park Meddling Jimin) could understand as much.

“I really don’t think that’s happening, Min,” you simply state in response, deciding to keep all of your thoughts to yourself for once. 

And Jimin, for once, takes it simply enough, nodding with a small smile. “Well. I still hope you have a good time with him.” He checks his phone, and then gathers you in a quick side hug. “It’s close to ten, I gotta run. See you some time next week?”

You nod. “But stay in touch, okay?”

“Of course! And you too – keep me updated about how things go!” When you scowl, he laughs. “Even if you stay friends, grumpkin.”

“Stop trying to make that happen, it’s not gonna happen!” You push at him and he rolls his eyes with a giggle.

“Sure, Regina George.”

Waving at him, you laugh as Jimin quickly stuffs his last night’s rolled up clothes in a backpack he’s borrowing from you and grabs his glasses from the clutter on your coffee table.

“Have a safe flight, Gretchen!”

“Shut up! Will text you after I land!”

“You do that, Min!”

And then he’s slipping out of the door, dousing your apartment in silence. 

Your eyes casually move toward the coffee table that you will have to clean up, and accidentally land on the couch. 

Fuck.

There’s an immediate throb between your legs when your gaze scans the area where you… well, made out with Jimin and had him basically devour you.

Fuck, indeed.

Jimin was very correct. Last night was some of the best sex you’ve had in a while.

In a really long while.

It’s gonna you take longer than a few days to get over it. How Jimin was able to get back to normal so easily is beyond you. 

But then again – maybe he was putting up a front because he knew he’d be leaving for two days and will be able to get your mind off of last night.

Damn, he’ll be back in just two days? Shit, that doesn’t feel like a nearly big enough time period all of a sudden.

Especially right now when you’re cleaning up your coffee table with your throat dry and your panties wet. You’ll never be able to have him over because every time he sits on this couch, you’ll be reminded of last night.

Fuck, maybe you can never even talk to him normally because every time you look at his lips, you won’t even have to imagine what they can do to you because you now know what they can do to you. 

How the hell are you gonna face him in two days?

You're broken out of your thoughts by the ping of a message on your phone.

10:17 AM | Text Message from Seokjin (office) Hey, we never discussed how we're meeting! Would you like me to pick you up?

You suck in a sharp breath. Seokjin. The date.

Right.

This does not feel right, good God.

A grimace on your face, you type in your response, asking the guy to meet you at the restaurant. You are not showing him your place, just yet. Or at all. And you do not wish to be in another guy’s car when the smell of your best friend’s cologne mixed with the musk of his cum is still stuck to your fucking lungs.

For a brief moment, you wonder if you should cancel the date. 

But then you recall the conversation you had with Jimin less than half an hour ago.

This cannot change anything, okay? Please.

It won’t if we don’t let it, you crazy woman. And I don't intend to let that happen. 

You don’t intend to let that happen, either, which is what stops you from canceling the date.

Besides, maybe hanging out with a guy you’ve been admiring and flirting with might actually help? Now that you’ve established that last night’s activities have to be water under the bridge, there’s nothing wrong with attempting to find a distraction to help you cross that bridge, right?

Jimin, for one, seems to want you to do that really bad. 

A weird feeling tugs at your stomach when you recall his insistence on you working things out romantically with Seokjin. But because you already have a huge pile of dogshit on your plate to deal with, you refuse to think further about the pang and instead attempt to focus on the outfit you will be wearing.

You end up wearing a knee length, a-line dress with no sleeves – the right amount of pretty, hot and available, without being too much. It’s a deep navy in color, but no surprise there because ninety percent of your closet comprises dark shades of blues.

On your short drive to the Korean BBQ place you are to meet up with Seokjin at, you blast The Weeknd at full volume and enjoy a solo karaoke of Starboy. When you get there, you drop a text to your date and receive an immediate reply telling you the location of the table he’s sat on.

He’s here before you which would leave you no time to compose yourself before you face the guy. Good thing you were a mother-effing starboy in the car, five minutes ago.

Inhaling deeply and then exhaling, you exit your car and elegantly walk up to the cute entrance to the restaurant. The place’s ambience kinda surprises you because it looks a lot upscale than the usual KBBQ places you’re used to frequenting. Gold and white aesthetics surround you, not ideal for a place which deals in smoking food, but the level of cleanliness that the decor still manages to maintain has you humming in appreciation. 

But then again, you shouldn't be surprised – Kim Seokjin eludes lavishness. 

Speaking of, you’re able to spot the man the moment you step foot into the place. And, admittedly, his crisp suit jacket and combed back hair make you space out so hard, you miss the doorman’s whole greeting. Seokjin immediately catches your eye, too, curling his plump lips into that smirk he flashes at people when he knows he’s got them under his spell.

Well. He’s not wrong, there.

Walking up to him – only after bowing at the doorman, because mama didn’t raise a mannerless bitch – you smile at his sweet gesture of pulling a chair out for you. Even the chimney above your table has intricate carvings on it, looking like something out of a royal kitchen.

When he’s finally seated back in his place across from you and has allowed his smirk to bloom into a full smile, you nod your head in polite greeting. “You look good today.”

Seokjin waves a hand of perfectly manicured nails and delicate rings in front of his face. “Oh, please. I look good everyday.”

Uh…

Did you mishear him? The place is buzzing but it’s not that loud. 

But given the serene smile on his face, he doesn’t look like he just made a joke. Yeah, you must have misheard him.

“You look absolutely gorgeous.”

Wow, the pace at which heat fills your cheeks is so embarrassing. Jimin would never let you live it down if he knew, especially given what all you managed to get up to without any blushing business, last—

Okay, what the fuck?

You hope Seokjin doesn’t notice the momentary panicked widening of your eyes. 

Did you really just almost think about the one event in your life that you’re supposed to forget about? Granted, it happened less than 24 hours ago – but you’re on a date. With another guy. And he just complimented you.

At this point, you should really be ashamed of yourself.

“Th–thank you, hehe.”

Did you just stutter? And fake-giggle?

Good God, you’re going to cry. This isn’t the afterglow the world promised you.

Thankfully, Seokjin jumps to discussing food straight away without attempting any small talk. And he’s pretty enthusiastic about it, too – asking for all his favorite side dishes and then encouraging you to add on yours to the order as well.

“Do you, um, come here often?” It takes you a while to frame that question but as soon as it is out of your mouth, you immediately realize that it can sound like you’re asking him if he’s been on other dates here. Often.

Your social skills are on an all time low tonight, God help you…

But Seokjin, thankfully, doesn’t think that far and simply nods. “Oh, yes. I know the manager, so I’ve been coming here since they opened a year ago.”

Ah, so he’s somewhat of a social butterfly.

Immediately, your brain wants to switch to thinking of another social butterfly in your life and make unnecessary comparisons – but you stop that line of thought before it can take form, by smiling wide at Seokjin. He’s so fucking handsome and you’re honestly just wasting it.

“That’s nice! Does he offer you discounts?” Your sense of humor might be broken, but at least this embarrassment stays on the surface and doesn’t make you wanna hide beneath the table.

Chuckling at your question, Seokjin leans over the table and gestures for you to lean closer as well – which you do. “The dude’s actually my brother in law, so fat chance, I’d say.”

You laugh a little louder than necessary on the joke, partially giggling out of relief that your lame ass joke didn’t get rejected.

He might not get discounts, but the service for your table definitely seems to be a little faster and more full of smiles than it is for the other patrons. Well. You're not complaining.

Seokjin smiles and nods at your server as well, respectfully tucking his hands in his lap to allow the guy enough room to set your table. After the server leaves, Seokjin is quick to set arrange the meat on the furnace – hands moving expertly as he twists and turns the strips around according to the level of cooking each portion requires.

He is a gentleman to the tee, cutting the meat up for you and everything, but is also careful about boundaries because he forwards his chopstick to your plate and not your mouth. Although you're sure your dumbass would have opened your mouth to accept the bite if he would’ve offered, too, without realizing the implications of letting your date feed you.

"Good?"

You hold back a moan when the soft and tender meat melts in your mouth, instead choosing to cover your lips daintily with a hand and nod at Seokjin with wide eyes. A comment about you being pronographic with food from a certain someone crosses your mind, and you resist the urge to sob out loud because you need to stop thinking about last night. 

"So good," you manage to murmur back, giving Seokjin a thumbs up with your chopstick hand.

He grins at you before taking a bite himself, and – oh, man. He certainly doesn't hold back on the moans. You're barely able to contain your reaction when the man suddenly throws his head back and releases a deep groan that travels through your body in vibrations.

There's no way to stop your brain from bursting out a whole NSFW scenario, now, that features you on your knees between the man's legs, swallowing his dick as if it's your last meal on earth. 

Damn. Man’s never even mentioned if he even has any romantic intentions with this whole thing or if he’s just treating you because he felt bad for you missing out on the group outing yesterday – and here you are, being obscene about him enjoying his food. How very pathetic of you.

It gets worse, though, because Seokjin suddenly opens his eyes and meets your gaze that you know for a fact has gotten all heavy lidded and dark. Evidenced by the way his eyebrows slowly rise up and tongue flicks out to lick away the remnants of grease from his bottom lip.

"It is good," he murmurs, winking at you.

Yeah no, he's definitely got at least flirtatious intentions. A little flustered, you clear your throat and look away from him, picking up a slice of pickled radish to distract yourself. 

"So…" Seokjin begins and then pauses, causing your gaze to connect with his again because he isn't the type to really hesitate. 

But there's a slight dusting of pink on his cheekbones right now that could very well be a result of the heat from the grill – but the undertones of grimace behind his smile suggest to you that it's not. Oh dear. Is he nervous?

"Just so we are on the same page… I'd been planning to do this for a while now."

A… while? He's not about to profess his undying love, is he? Your back straightens in alarm, but you force your lips to form a grin. "Ask me on a… date?"

He shrugs a shoulder, tilting his head. "Not necessarily a date, no. Just spending time with you one-on-one."

Oh, thank fuck.

"I know it's not just me that feels like this pull between us, right?"

Yep, it's not just him. Although you won't exactly call it a pull. It's a tap, at best. Or even a touchless beckoning? You weren't lying when you said you only objectively admire his good looks.

But you're not about to tell him that.

Smiling at him, you nod. "We're on the same page, then. It's not just you. But… why didn't you?"

"Why didn't I what?"

"Ask to do this earlier?"

And you do genuinely wonder. Because now, too, he's almost tricked you into this instead of being forthright with it. You're, like, seventy-eight percent sure you'd have rejected him if he mentioned the word date, but he doesn't know that. Or does he?

Your eyes narrow slightly as Seokjin gives a self-conscious cough of laughter, hand behind his neck. "Well, I wasn't really sure you were… y'know, available?"

Now hold on a second – that's bullshit. You've never made it a secret that you've been as single as they come, ever since you joined this company three years back. Well, you've also made it known that you aren't exactly available either, but what are the odds of Seokjin completely missing the first half and yet catching onto the second one? 

Unless you mixed it up and made it seem that you are unavailable because you had somebody? Oops.

"What do you mean?" you ask him with a light chuckle, leaning towards the table as he reduces the heat on the grill. 

He rolls his eyes, looking at you with a small smile that feels a tad condescending; as if he's about to go, ‘oh, you poor child,’ on you. "That friend of yours? He began to come around a lot, picking you up after work every other day and stuff. I assumed you'd started seeing someone. We all did.”

“Jimin…?” you mumble in surprise because you'd been so eager to spend every minute of your free time with him when you moved to town that you never paused to consider how it looked. "No, we're just friends! He's my best friend, and we're close. But there's nothing there."

Oh no. Why are you talking about him? You were supposed to not even think of the guy – why did you begin to discuss him?

Well now it's too late, because the can of worms has been opened. Now your thoughts are cascading on themselves like a glitching Windows XP screen. 

Your brain's been sent into an obscene overdrive – as if you’d been holding the gates shut to all these images with your back pressed against them and now they’ve been pushed open by this huge wave that flattens you to the ground and engulfs you in itself. And suddenly, you’re reliving it – his hot exhale against your neck, fingers gripping at your hips, tongue flicking over your nipple, teeth digging your flesh.

Best friend? Right. 

Sweat is trailing down your neck and your gaze is stuck unseeingly in your plate full of food that Seokjin has deposited there for your consumption.

Seokjin.

Fuck.

You’re on a fucking date – with another guy.

What the fuck are you doing?

"So yeah,” escapes you in a broken imitation of a chuckle when Seokjin nods, while you try to suppress the slight tremble in your hand when you wave it before your face to emphasize words. “He's just a friend.”

Who gave you the best pounding of your life, but that’s the fine print no one likes to read.

“Yes, yes, I’ve gathered as much now.” Seokjin’s smile is so wholesome, you feel like you’re violating his aura by breathing the same air as him when your mind's so pathetically filthy. “So… about that same page conversation – what do you expect out of this? A casual hangout? Friendship? Something…more?"

Wow, so this guy is actually a pretty cool guy if you look beyond the narcissism, the overenthusiasm and the noseyness. Quite a list to look beyond, but you do reckon him to at least be friendship material with the thoughtfulness his question displays.

The question, though. What do you expect?

Exhaling, you lean back in your seat and squint into space to think about it. You can’t exactly tell him that you're not the least bit emotionally invested in this and would have just tried to get into his pants if it wasn’t for your best friend’s insistence. But number one: you can’t exactly lie to him because that’d be blatantly leading him on and potentially hurting him; number two: he didn't really present you with an option fitting for this.

You need to find a middle ground. 

Because for wholly selfish reasons that you shouldn’t even be involving Seokjin in, you need his company. You need him as a friend, as a potential bed-mate if he's interested. You need him as someone you can spend time with so as to not spend all of it with the one person who's had your brain in a blender since last night. But friendzoning him isn't the way to go, so you're gonna need a second, third, fourth date – whatever number it takes for you to heal the chemical explosion in your head and be a normal human again.

So you need to find a middle ground.

Which just so happens to be you smirking right back at the guy and giving a carefree shrug. "How about a casual hangout with the potential of a friendship with the side of… something else?"

Seokjin bites down on his bottom lip before he smiles again giving you that knowing, tad condescending smirking pull of his lips. Leaning closer to mimic your position, he raises a tentative finger and traces the back of your hand with it, gaze dark but playful. "Sounds fun."

You turn your hand over to allow his fingers to trace the soft, more sensitive skin of your palm instead, grinning at him. "I am fun."

Snorting, he withdraws himself and nods at you. "And funny. I like it."

The compliment makes you grin wider, even though his standards of 'funny' are sure to be questionable with the kind of jokes you've seen him make and laugh at.

The two of you lapse into a comfortable, companionable silence after that, focus shifted to the food. A few words about the quality of the meat and the level of cooking are tossed here and there. Seokjin is definitely a food lover and definitely knows more about cooking than your average guy. He eventually tells you he used to be a good blogger in his early twenties, which you find kind of cute.

You still don't know what he actually does for a living now, however, and the question must be obvious in your squinted gaze when you're cleaning your hands with a wet wipe because kimchi juices cannot be managed by sheer tissue paper.

"I guess it's time I told you," he begins, getting up with you as the two of you prepare to leave.

You raise an eyebrow. "Tell me what?"

"About my profession."

At the reception, you're preparing to put up a fight to split the bill, when Seokjin simply asks the cashier to put this on my tab, grabs some breath mints, and walks away. Following him with a dumbfounded stare, not before popping a breath mint in your own mouth, you see the way the doorman grins at the guy before bowing and you briefly wonder exactly how often he must come here to be able to bhule up this amount of familiarity. And a whole tab.

Your question is hilariously answered the next moment, when Seokjin walks up to your car and leans against it with a smile, pointing at the building with a raise of his eyebrows.

"I own this place."

"What?" You gape at him in pure confusion. "You… the restaurant? But you… you said…"

"My brother in law's the manager, yes, but this restaurant is mine. Actually, there's a chain of these around the country and a few abroad. We started out five years ago, but… business has kinda flourished recently. You don't frequent KBBQ places often, I see."

Okay, wow. Handsome, flirty and rich? Forget being friends, this dude is total Sugar Daddy material! That, and this also explains his knowledge of food and all the free time he's always got on his hands. "Ah… that's really amazing!"

"It kinda is, if I do say so myself."

Overlooking the narcissism, you hum and move to stand next to the guy, your back against your car, arms brushing his. Despite all his red flags, Seokjin is awfully good at picking up clues, you'd give that to him. Because with a slow twist of his heeled shoes, he moves to hover above you, arms extended and hands braced on the door of your vehicle next to your shoulders.

His breath washes over your face, minty but warm, and his dark eyes pull you in. "This was fun."

You attempt to smirk at him, but your lips tremor for some unknown reason. Not to mention the weird weight that pulls at your stomach at his proximity. 

You try to goad yourself into reacting. A horny grab of his coat lapels would be better than staring at him with wide, borderline scared eyes.

What the fuck is wrong with you, you absolute idiot? Where's that imagery of getting on your knees for him now? Remember the horny rush you felt when he moaned after taking a bite of his food?

But nothing works, your throat swallowing your nerves repeatedly and yet failing to clear all of them out of you. 

Seokjin looks visibly confused at your lack of reaction, but still smiles at you for a moment and brings a hand in to cup the side of your face in his warm palm.

Alarm bells blare loud and shrill in your head, your skin tingling at the contact with his and not in a good way. 

The weight in your stomach expands upwards, pressing onto your chest, and the warm breaths on your face suddenly feel not so pleasant anymore. 

Or rather, they don't feel right.

The smell of Seokjin's woodsy cologne, his height towering over you, the calluses in his palm – everything feels wrong. 

It should be citrus, you should be tilting your head at a different angle, the calluses should be on the fingertips.

It should be Jimin.

Fuck.

You're fucked.

"I… I'm sorry, Seokjin, I.m. I don't think I can do this."

Eyes wide and almost horrified, he immediately jumps away from you with both his palms raised up. "Woah woah, did I overstep? I'm so sorry! Shit, I should've asked for your permission before stepping so close—"

"No, no, it's not you! You were reading the signs and you were reading them right." You reassure him, trying to regulate your breathing now that you finally can breathe properly. "I was into it, I swear! I mean… I thought I was into it. But I…" You sigh, placing a hand over your forehead to give an embarrassed shake of your head. "I'm sorry."

"Hey, please don't apologize." Seokjin shakes his head tenderly, looking at you with a frown that spells concern as well as confusion. But then he grins at you, clearly trying to make a joke out of the situation to ease you down. "There will always be more opportunities to make out, my lips aren't going anywhere!"

Oh… But you don't think there will be. You don't want there to be. 

He reads something on your face and slowly raises his eyebrows. "Or maybe not?"

You give a weary sigh, shutting your eyes and slumping against the silver of your car. "I really really don't wanna lead you on, Jin. You're an amazing guy, and… I'd really love to have a friend in you. But I don't think I'm in the right mindspace to invest into anything further than that."

And it is so weird to confess something that has been true for years – except now, it's in a wholly different context. You have steered clear of emotional entanglements for so long because of the way things went south with your ex. That hasn't stopped you from pursuing physical intimacy, however.

But right now, you're stepping away from the latter as well. 

You can feel your brain shutting down on your emotions, refusing to let you assess what you feel, least of all why you feel it. But you most certainly were craving your best friend when another guy was just about to kiss you – so you are most certainly, very royally fucked to a huge degree.

When you finally meet Seokjin's gaze again, trying to avoid your thoughts, he's looking at you with a small smile. It is an extended version of the condescending one you've seen him wear multiple times tonight, except this one seems more sweet than tainting.

"Can I ask you something?"

You blink at the unexpected question. "You just did," you lamely mumble, cringing at your own self. "Sorry. Yes, please, go ahead.

He laughs and tilts his head to the side. "Is Jimin really just a friend to you?"

Eyes widening in surprise, you're at a loss of words at the suddenness of the question. It's not an unfamiliar one – far from it. In your entire existence as Jimin's best friend, you've encountered it more times than you can count; as best friends usually do, before they laugh it off and call each other gross.

But, strangely enough, facing it this time brings out an emotion that is far from humor. It, in fact, takes you back to that time in college when you were all nineteen and you'd freshly revealed about your past crush on Jimin during some game amongst your group of friends. Wheein, Jeongyeon and Seungcheol, the three other friends that completed your group of five, then took it upon themselves to tease the two of you at every chance they got. 

You claimed your crush was old and you'd gotten over it – and yet butterflies filled your tummy every time Jimin flirtatiously wiggled his eyebrows at you at their insistence. You didn't even go to the same college, man used to make you lose braincells over video calls!

Those similar butterflies occupy the cavity beneath your diaphragm now too, as you stay blinking at Seokjin, taking way too long to answer. Which gives away the answer in itself.

Giving you a hum, long and deep, he rolls back on his heels and nods. "I see."

"What? No!" You suddenly jump up to defend yourself. "I… We're just in a… weird phase right now." That's one way to put it, you guess. "B–but we're friends. Just friends. The best of friends."

"Are you sure it's me that you're trying to convince?"

You bite your tongue at the laughter in his voice. Are you really trying to lie to yourself?

Do you really have a crush on your best friend…again?

 Seokjin gives a pat to your shoulder. "Don't worry about it, okay? I can't say I didn't have an inkling. Hell, we've all seen the two of you act impossibly couple-y around each other. Even if you were just friends in the beginning, it was bound to evolve into something more given how you looked at each other."

Okay, enough. That's… too much.

It was one thing when it was just Jimin’s colleagues that thought the two of you acted couple-y because he'd never bothered to correct them. It's a whole other when it’s your colleagues too because you've always brushed off their suspicions, without fail. 

This is getting out of your hands.

"I'll be taking my leave, okay? Drive safe and let me know when you've reached home." Seokjin smiles again when you meet his gaze. "No hard feelings, okay? I'll see on Monday."

You hope you'd be able to face him on Monday without breaking into tears of humiliation.

Sighing, you wave goodbye to Seokjin and, unlocking your car, get into it. Placing both hands on the steering wheel, you rest your forehead against their back, exhaling roughly.

This is all so confusing, you almost want to cry. Or call up Jeongyeon and complain about your confusing state of mind to her. But you're a terrible friend who doesn't keep in touch with people regularly so the last time you talked to the girl would have been on her birthday. Almost a year ago. It's coming up again next month, in fact. So nope, no messages.

With a grimace, you extract your phone to check the time – just as a message pings on it.

07:41 PM | Text Message from Min 🌟 <image_2839.jpg>

Great. Just what you need. More of him to absolutely obliterate any semblance of sanity you could have clung onto.

Heart almost beating out of your chest, you click on the message with embarrassingly shaky fingers. A picture of him awaits you – a dramatic selfie where his face is resting against a pillow with his eyes shut and lips pouted. The accompanying text spells out 'tired' in small letters, followed by multiple ellipses because one couldn't have made the point clearly enough for him.

Your heart has no business thumping like it us at the sight of his shiny mouth, and your face definitely deserves to be sued for heating up like a fucking toaster. You could earn a tortilla on your cheeks.

Oh God. 

You do have a crush on him again. Holy fuck, holy fuck, holy fuck.

What the fuck have you done?

On your way back, your whole head was such a mess that you almost turned into the wrong lane. You'd planned a Marvel movie marathon to get your mind off everything and fall asleep in front of the TV – so that you can wake up on Sunday afternoon with Chris Evans’ ass in his tight Cap’n America spandex on your mind.

But as you go through your nightly routine of brushing and showering, you realize that watching TV is out of the question because you cannot stay in your living room without reliving the way you were eaten out, here. And touching yourself to the thought of the guy you don't wanna think about will be sort of counterproductive.

So you decide to pull out your laptop and snuggle in your bed, resolutely turning towards the window in your room to avoid looking at the place where you knelt before Jimin. But that makes you face the picture of the two of you that you keep on your nightstand like a sap, and you release a tired groan.

"Why the fuck are you everywhere?" you lament into your empty room which doesn't feel nearly empty enough with all the traces of your best friend around it.

For the first time in your life, you're beginning to wonder if you've woven Jimin too intricately in your life than a best friend should be.

Good God. A spandex clad ass won’t be enough, you’ll need Chris Evans to get naked for you to be able to deal with this shit. Fuck it, you're watching Not Another Teen Movie.

It's 2 am, you’ve gone through four movies, and yet haven’t been able to gather enough sanity to text your best friend back.

He probably thinks you’re riding Seokjin’s dick by now. Which you would have been, had it not been for this uncalled for, absolutely unwelcome, highly inconvenient and horrendously intense attraction you’re feeling for him instead.

What is worse, it’s accompanied by telltale signs of a crush. What a nightmare to bear.

It all sounds like you’re being extra, but you’re actually just afraid.

The truth is – you're terrified of feelings; of getting too attached to somebody. And not just because you've seen how it can make people dependable, symbiotic to the point of being parasitic, the way they did your ex. But also because they change people in even more, even scarier ways.

Especially friends.

The moment that line is crossed from friendship to romance, everything is changed. At the risk of sounding morbid, you'd like to claim that everything is essentially ruined. 

You've seen it happen to the closest of friends. The mask comes off, and everything that a person was as a friend – completely disappears as they assume the role of a partner. It never makes sense to you why this happens. 

But your biggest fear in life is that it may happen to you. That it may happen with Jimin. You'd realized it when you were 19, so you'd crushed all the giddy feelings in you and moved on with your life as Jimin’s best friend. 

And it worked out great, didn’t it? For eight whole years?

Fuck, what if fizzles out now, though?

“Fuck fuck fuck,” you muter to yourself, covering your face with both your palms.

You really don't wanna say it because it makes you feel like shit, especially given how normal Jimin was this morning, but… had you known getting physically close to him would lead to you getting so lost in your head, you would never have kissed Jimin. You would never have let that conversation with Avni play with your head for so long, in the first place.

Because all that has led you here, to this – leaving him on read and ignoring his face time calls. Poor guy probably just wants to know how your date went.

Well. Maybe you’ll answer him tomorrow.

Maybe you’ll be brave enough to confidently lie your way out of it. Maybe you'll be saner, more composed?

Tomorrow. You promise your self you'll be better tomorrow.

“Tomorrow.”

© jimilter | 2023

#bts imagines #bts angst #jimin #park jimin #park jimin angst #bts smut #jimin x reader #park jimin x reader #bts x reader #bts x you #jimin x you #park jimin x you #jimin imagines #jimin angst #jimin fluff #bts fluff #jimin smut

[spidey-x-male-reader]

Pls do spot with a non-binary spider reader who not only thinks he and his abilities are cool, but teaches him how to properly use them. Pls I have so much brains of for this man I'LL TAKE EVEN THE TINIEST CRUMB JUST PLS🙏🙏

Pairing: The Spot x nonbinary!reader

Warnings: ///

A/N: God I was really trying my best with this one. I hope it's alright!

REQUESTS ARE OPEN

MASTERLIST

Being part of the spider society probably isn’t your dream job (mostly because you don’t get paid for some reason?) but it was fun most of the time. 

You hang out with people who understand you better than most people around you do, you have fun missions and get to kick ass. What’s better than that?

Of course there’s the occasional multiversal threat but you are great at dealing with that. And you would never get compromised because of anything…never…definitely…

“Oh my god he’s so cool” you mumble to yourself while swinging after the spot.

You were alone for the while, Jess having stayed back to do some damage control, but Miguel has clearly tasked you to catch the Spot and make sure he didn’t do anything dangerous. But currently you are way too focused on how cool the guy looks to think about catching him.

“Hey! Can I ask a question?” you ask while swinging next to him.

“Wha– I guess?” He seems more confused than anything. As much as you can judge from…his non-existent facial features.

“Do your powers have some kind of limit of distance or could you like…go to Italy right now if you wanted?”

“I–” he stops moving and stays standing on a rooftop. “That’s a good question actually.”

You stop standing next to him, carefully touching his shoulder. It feels pretty normal. You imagined something else.

“...aren’t you going to arrest me or something?”

“I’ll think about it when my boss starts paying me.” you shrug. “My name is (y/n) by the way.” you hold your hand out to him. Ah yes. Telling your secret identity to the guy you’re supposed to be hunting. Miguel would give you the most disapproving glare if he saw you right now. 

“The spot.” he shakes your hand. “But…I guess Jonathan if we go by first names” this was probably the weirdest interaction you had all week…or the second weirdest.

“So…tell me more about your powers. How do they work?”

“What? So you can make fun of them?”

“Fun? Are you kidding? This is like…the coolest thing I’ve ever seen. And I saw a guy that turned into a giant rhino. And that’s pretty cool. But those powers are like…” you look up to (were you guess) his face is. “...absolutely incredible. They’re beautiful.”

“Well that’s the first time someone says that…usually they tend to make fun of it or just…the way I look.”

“What’s wrong about the way you look?” you frown, looking at him. “Sure…it’s a bit weird to not have a face to look at but I think we can work with that.”

He doesn’t say something for a few seconds, just studying you silently. “Thank you” he eventually says.

You want to say something when your communicator blinks as you hear Jessica’s voice out of it. “(y/n)? Have you caught the spot?”

You look up at him for a moment. “...no. I lost him. Sorry.”

“It’s okay. Meet me at the meet up point. We’re going to have to think about a new strategy.”

“Of course. I’ll be there in a few minutes. I’ll check the territory once more.” you say before hanging up. “I do not like lying to Jess.”

“Why…did you lie?”

“I didn’t see the reason for turning you in.” you smile at him. “And…you know. Maybe I can help you if you need some more help with your powers. I mean I’m not an expert at portals and stuff but I’m good…positive affirmation.” you grin at him before stepping to the edge of the building.

“How am I…going to find you for that?” he asks, taking a step towards you again.

You turn back to him again. “Don’t worry. I’ll be the one finding you.” you grin and let yourself fall off the building backwards.

That looked cool, right?

You are hoping it looked cool.

And you’re trying to do your best to not think about the fact that you wanted to impress the new villain.

….that was okay….right?

#spiderman reader #spiderman #marvel #spiderverse #across the spiderverse #across the spiderverse spoilers #spiderman imagine #spiderman headcanon #marvel imagine #marvel headcanon #marvel x reader #spiderverse imagine #spiderverse headcanon #spiderverse x reader #across the spiderverse imagine #across the spiderverse headcanon #across the spiderverse x reader #pride #gay #non binary reader #gender neutral reader #the spot #the spot x reader #the spot x gender neutral reader #the spot x non binary reader #across the spiderverse x gender neutral reader #across the spiderverse x nonbinary reader

[amphiptere-art]

Discord discussion about what happened in today's episode. I did leave out a couple of things where I was just explaining what was happening in the episode. So it might be a bit janky here and there.

This is the bulk of the conversation talking about eclipse and what his life really ended up in.

Decided to watch The Sun and Moon episode to try and figure out what eclipse was doing.

He's just wanting to kill everyone...

He sounds very insulted by everyone.

He also was a bit confused when they talked about the fact that they killed him when he had all the power. So he might actually be OG.

I mean, I can understand the guy with abandonment issues feeling very insulted about being replaced with a kinder version of himself.

I will say during the entire situation eclipse just sounded done. Like he really just wanted them to die because they wanted to get rid of them. Not really for revenge anymore, just cuz he was tired of beating around the bush I guess?

Yeah, that’s fair

He’s failed, his plans have all gone up in smoke, everyone wants him dead, there’s a kinder him getting the family he wanted,

Makes sense that he’s tired and done with everything and just wants everyone gone.

He's a depressed boy. If this is OG and he kind of learned by watching. He has seen himself die twice. Every plan to bring himself higher or feel in a higher position falling. So at this point, just kill everyone.

And a part of my brain tells me he wants to kill himself.

He lost in all the ways that matter. He’s got nothing *but* revenge left.

There's no place for him to go. He thought, maybe lunar could actually be someone he could care about. And then they betray him. He died. Was reset back to zero, before any impact from lunar. Watched a whole other series of betrayals. Got as far as getting the star and killing Lunar. Yet I feel like that wasn't really The revenge they were hoping. They sat around in basically depressive sulk with a powerful object. Able to do anything. Perhaps even just wishing that sun and moon would forget about him. And then he died again, when he was trying to warn them of appending danger.

He has been proven over and over and over again. No one cares for him. No one wants to care for him. At this point no one can care for him. He doesn't necessarily want to die to them again. There is no point in hoping that they just leave him alone. They're going to chase him. So, just kill everyone. Just end it all.

End everything.

There isn't any point anymore.

#tw sui talk #sams #tsams #the sun and moon show #Sun and Moon show #sams eclipse #tsams eclipse #The Sun and Moon show eclipse #sun and moon show eclipse

[delayed-affection]

hello 🙌

Could you write something about Pyotr kochetkov, anything you want..

there isn't as much content from this guy as I'd like 😓

Thank you 🤍

Unrequited Love

Oneshots Navigation

Pyotr Kochetkov x reader

Warnings: Like four Russian words but they are translated

A/n: He speaks very little English in real life but for the sake of the fic he knows a little more

Word count: 0.8k

You’ve been pining over Pyotr since you’ve met him. Working for the team however means you can’t do anything about it.

So you made the decision to just keep your feelings to yourself but with that meant you could at least be friends with him.

And you did, you actually became close friends with him, maybe too close of friends.

~

With it being the off season meant that you and Pyotr were spending more one on one time.

As of now he sits next to you on your couch telling you all about how his brother is coming to visit from Russia.

He tells you about the times they spent together as children and how much he's been missing him.

As he talks, you can see the joy and excitement in his face and it might seem a little selfish but you being to wonder if he lights up this way when talking about you. If he talks about you and if he does, who has he told?

More questions being to flood your mind, does he find you as fascinating and interesting as you find him? Does he speak about you to others with the same passion and affection?

You try to push your thoughts aside and focus on his excitement about his brother's visit becomes really hard after awhile.

~

Getting drunk with Pyotr on a random Tuesday night was not ideal, especially considering that he likes to try and have deep conversations while constantly switching between English and Russian.

When he switches to Russian, you’re completely out of your depth and have no idea what he's saying. But rather than tell him that, you just smiles and nods along, trying to understand.

You knows he's trying to say something profound, but all you can do is laugh to yourself as you takes another shot.

He had just gone on a twenty minute talk about how being a goalie can’t be compared to anything else because it is the scariest and most important position to play.

He then falls silent looking down at the vodka bottle in his hand.

He chuckles, “You know… I can’t imagine myself having…”

He takes a second to think, “Having… a… I forget English word for it but Подруга.” (Girlfriend)

You scrunchie your eyebrows trying to think of the word he’s trying to say, his slight slur is not helping.

He leans forward and takes a shot, “You picture me with one?”

Seeing your confused face so he tries to explain, “Боже мой, uh, Подруга… uh, you know a lover, right?” (Oh my god, girlfriend)

If the alcohol wasn’t making you hot already then that question certainly would.

You let out an awkward laugh, “You don’t see yourself with someone?”

He shakes his head, “No, never home. No need.”

You had no reason to be upset about his answer because it was a solid answer and dating someone that worked for his team probably never crossed his mind.

But it did make you a little sad knowing that he wasn’t looking for anyone or anything.

~

The two of you sit inside a Starbucks, tucked away in the corner.

You’re typing somethings out for work while he watches as people walk in and out. Your sitting in comfortable silence, something you two did quite often here.

Until someone walks in and catches Pyotr’s eye.

He nudges your hand making you look at him, “смотреть, she cute, no?” (Look)

You follow his gaze and you’re not going to lie to yourself, she’s a very pretty girl.

You turn back to your laptop and nod, “mhm.”

“I go talk to her?” He asks glancing from you to her.

Your brain is working in overdrive, you don’t know what to think or say. You’re aware that that you can’t keep him for yourself but you never thought he would ask you if he should go flirt with someone.

You hesitate for a moment before saying, “I don’t know.”

He doesn’t like your hesitation, “Do you think she has lover?”

You tilt your head and shrug, “Maybe.”

That’s not a yes so that encourages him a bit.

He sits a up straight and looks at you, “You help me? You know translation.”

You really don’t want to be his wingman, “I don’t know much.”

He stands up and grabs his drink, “That is fine. Come.”

And that’s when you knew the little fantasy of you two ever being together was over. He truly only saw you as a friend, a good enough friend that he wants to help him flirt.

It was never going to happen and who knows it might be for the better.

#pyotr kochetkov #Pyotr Kochetkov x reader #Pyotr Kochetkov imagine #Pyotr Kochetkov oneshot #Pyotr Kochetkov x yn #nhl x reader #nhl fic #nhl imagine

[hawkinsp0st]

in my head this is mike’s realization scene:

joyce and hop are engaged. it’s byers-hopper moving day, and the wheelers are helping them transfer everything from hop’s cabin and the byers’ moving van to the blended family’s new, more size-accommodating house in hawkins.

in the commotion, with everyone else on their way to bring a load to the new house, mike is able to get a private moment with el, sitting on her bed in the cabin.

the breakup is amicable. she leans her head on his shoulder and says, “thank you for saving my life in the woods, and bringing me to my new family.” she pauses. “and especially for not lying. about your feelings for me.”

mike gives a soft smile. “friends don’t lie.” he thinks for a moment. “so, friends?” he sticks his hand out playfully for a handshake, and el laughs, extending her hand, shaking his and then pulling him in for a hug. she smiles. “friends.”

they pull away from the hug and mike moves to stand up from her bed, so he can head out and give el some space, and go meet the others. but first, he remembers something, and sits back down.

“oh, el!” she looks at him, surprised at the urgency in his voice. “el, i totally forgot. thank you so much. for the painting.”

“the… painting?”

“yeah, the one, you know, that will painted. from you, for me. the one where you told him… what to draw? he gave it to me when we went to get you from NINA.”

“mike... i don’t understand. will was very secretive about his painting. he never told me what was on the painting or who it was for.”

“so you didn’t—never said anything about… me being the heart of the group?”

el shakes her head no, equally confused.

mike looks down at his shoes. there’s no way el could be lying, he thinks. she’s probably the most sincere person on the planet.

el senses how perplexed he is by her answer and elaborates. “remember, in my last letter to you? i told you that he was painting something and was keeping it private.” she took a breath. “i thought he was painting it for someone he…”

mike doesn’t hear the rest of her words because something has shifted and his ears are ringing and now it’s a perfect game of tetris inside him, mismatched pieces that were once clunking inside his chest now sliding together perfectly and releasing the immense pressure he’d no idea had been building.

everything falls into place perfectly and paints a picture that isn’t, can’t possibly be, real.

“el… i don’t…” mike swallows. “he told me that you asked him to paint it.”

el simply shakes her head and continues to let mike process verbally.

“i think he lied to me.”

“i’m sorry to hear that,” el frowns, heartfelt.

“it just doesn’t make sense. he draws me things all the time… or, he used to, before you guys moved to lenora. why wouldn’t he just tell me the painting is from—“

realization hits mike in the fucking throat.

i think there is someone he likes.

these past few months, she’s been so lost without you.

you make her feel like she’s not a mistake at all… like she’s better for being different.

so yeah, el needs you, mike. and she always will.

mike feels tears begin to prick at the corners of his eyes.

“he lied to me.” his breath is starting to come in sharply, like his body is struggling to adjust to the new homeostasis created by this information.

el looks out the window, thinking. she looks back at mike and shrugs. “that’s strange. will is a good friend. and friends don’t lie.”

mike sighs, trying to take deep breaths and not show el how distraught he is, his brain still catching up with what his heart, pounding violently against his ribcage, has already pieced together.

but el is perceptive as ever. “mike?”

he looks at el. she blinks at him, like she’s unsure if what she’s about to say will help at all, but she still wants to try.

el continues. “friends don’t lie. but max told me…”

mike is confused at what max has to do with this. “huh?”

“max told me that boyfriends do.”

mike’s eyes widen and an invisible force within him pulls him into a standing position.

“fuck,” he breathes.

“fuck?”

“fuck. fuck.” he turns toward el. “el, i’m sorry, i have to…”

“go to him. tell him i’ll be there in a few minutes with the last of my things.” she smiles, knowing.

mike storms out the door and toward his bike. it’s pouring rain but it couldn’t possibly matter less. he has to get to will right. fucking. now.

part two

#anyways #sorry this is so long i’m on mobile and couldn’t do a read more #mike wheeler i know what you are #byler fanfic #byler ficlet #byler #duffers