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msgrieves · 19 days

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𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒃𝒐𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒚 𝒊𝒔 𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒅

summary : tom riddle decides to give you a lesson in herbology when you seem to be slacking 💞

warnings : smut, in public (a library), she/her pronouns used, dumbification, handgag??, fingering, lowercase intended!!

ೃ⁀➷ this is my first time writing a fic/smut so be warned for cringe; fyi i chose to make the reader's last name carrow!!; written in 3rd person because i can't bring myself to write in 2nd person rn 😣😣; no use of y/n

lonely, she felt. amidst the solitude of the library she felt lonely. all signs of life had long left, leaving her alone with merely her own consciousness and the heavy snores emitting from madam scribner's dribbling mouth.

she felt like she was going crazy, rereading over the same article over and over again, fruitlessly scavenging for any information she hadn't picked up through her last fifty searches. in the pindrop silence she heard a cough, nearly sending her into a heart attack; glancing up from her disordered desk she met the protruding gaze of tom riddle,

"miss carrow, are you aware the library closed over twenty minutes ago?"

his expression mocked her, as if she was unaware of such primary rules. of course the library had closed long ago, she'd been checking her rustic pocket watch every five minutes in fear of a professor waltzing in and catching her. she feigned a tone of innocent obliviousness:

"oh sorry tom, i seemed to have lost track of time, i best be on my way now."

she hastily shuffled out of her seat, slotting assortments into her rugged leather satchel and slinging it over her shoulder in a hurry.

"not so fast.." riddle tutted at her condescendingly.

he took a sharp inhale, glancing at his dress shoes before back up her, taking a small step back.

"how come you're out so late?"

the dreaded question.

she'd hoped to escape him before he had the chance to completely humiliate her: give her a good scolding.

"..studying" she answered, vague.

a questioning look arose on his face.

"studying?" he repeated, his voice mocking hers.a simple nod would do.

"for what?"

"herbology."

an incredibly useless subject she took only because she wanted as many qualifications as possible.

he scoffed, he'd certainly shown up in a pissy mood. there was an uncomfortable pause, him looking her over before opening his mouth again.

"you're free to go."

her eyes widened, her tongue unable to stop herself from saying:

"what?"

...

"would you like a detention then?"

"..no" she shook her head, quickly.

"then leave, now." he repeated, this time firmer than before.

well this was shocking. he'd allowed her to leave freely. normally it'd take an entire hour of him berating her before even considering letting her return to her dorm - usually accompanied with a week's worth of detentions, just because he could.

she didn't pass the oppurtunity, scurrying out before he had the chance to rethink his decision. she didn't question why he let her off the hook. she was simply thankful he did.

a day had passed. it was now sunday night. she had the huge herbology test in only a few hours. she couldn't score anything below outstanding, otherwise her parents would be upset with her, professor beery would be dissapointed, and riddle would get one over on her but that mattered very little to her considering the worser consequences.

again she sat at her little table tucked away in the corner of the library. the incompetent librarian snoring away as per usual.

she took a break from her relentless studying, idly volunteering her help by sorting jumbled books which the first years had so carelessly tossed around.

she strolled a lap of the lavish library, sorting out obvious messes of disordered books before returning to her desk, finding riddle occupying her seat.

without needing to announce herself, he spoke up, somehow just knowing she was there.

"you've got this all wrong."

a focused look fixed upon his face as he flicked through the endless notes she'd written over the past week on the various plants professor beery had instructed the class to research.

"excuse you?" she scoffed in annoyance, striding largly over to him and harshly snatching the worn notebook from his hands.

who did he think he was? searching through her personal belongings?

"your notes. they're all wrong." he repeated, a blank look on his face as he fixated his gaze on her now, leaving her stomach a fluttering mess which she chose to ignore in fear of what could be revealed about her stemming from it.

"you shouldn't've even been snooping through my stuff. get up." she urged, waiting for him to move so she could reclaim her seat.

"but they were wrong-"

"-i don't care, get up."

his jaw clenched and he inhaled sharply, standing up nevertheless as she resat in her wooden chair. he pulled another over, inviting himself to join.

"i think you're forgetting whose in charge here."

he gave her a daunting glare, sitting down next to her. in all fairness as head boy he had the ability to send her back to her dorm right now, seeing as she was out past curfew, again.

"now.." he took a breath "do you need my help?"

he sounded empathetic. shocking for someone like him, who despite his charming reputation she knew to be one carless soul.

"no, i do not need your help-"

"-i think you do." he replied, his blunt tone not budging.

he brought his chair closer to her, gently taking the notes from her hands and spreading them on the table in front.

before, him going out of his way to help her seemed like a distant fantasy. what on earth was his motive behind this?

"read over your notes for me."

he placed a strong hand on her shoulder, patting it harshly as if it were an easing, friendly gesture, but instead it caused her to stiffen and shrink further into her seat.

"the entire thing?"

"would you like a detention?"

he kept using that stupid threat. it worked every time though. she took a deep breath, biting back her anger.

"lavage-"

"first of all you've spelt it wrong."

he interrupted abruptly, bringing his hand from her shoulder to point it at the word written in a messy scrawling at the top of the parchment, then residing it down on her thigh. she tensed up, unsure of how exactly should she react.. should she push him off? she wasn't quite sure how she felt just yet.

with his right hand he borrowed her quill, scratching out the incorrect spelling to rewrite it as 'lovage' in a smaller font just above her old writing.

"continue" he hummed, now drawing light circles with his thumb onto her upper thigh.

her breath hitched, she tried to steady its pace, restarting her reading.

"lovage.. similar to broccoli-"

his hand made a sudden dip to explore her inner thigh.

"celery." he corrected, not arrogantly.

strange. he was being helpful, not mocking her for being wrong.

"celery." she repeated affirmatively, "its common use-"

merlin this man wouldn't shut up and let her talk.

"start from the beginning. once your done you can return to your dorm.. depending on how well i think you've done."

how well he thinks she's done?? in what world is that fair. she scowled at him, giving him a distasteful look, though he was too focused on the notes in front of the two of them to notice.

she took a deep breath,

"lovage." she repeated, rather dramatically.

his fingers began tracing higher up her thigh, slipping up her skirt and beginning to toy with the elastic hem of her undergarments beneath the desk.

"similar to celery, its common usages are-"

her sentence was cut by a breathy moan, where in gods green earth did that come from.

he'd traced lower down to her cunt, his fingers precise and sure.

"restart." he sighed exasperatedly, as if nothing out of the ordinary was occuring.

for merlin sake, he was nearly fingering her under the table- and she let him??

she groaned, in annoyance of his persistance, in annoyance of his fingers hovering so teasingly over where she needed him most.

"lovage. similar to celery. its common usages are for befuddlement draughts,"

"and what else?"

"what do you mean 'what else'??- the book only sAI-"

his index had slipped between her already moistened folds, applying the lightest pressure to her clit as he dipped the tip of it into her hole, she stiffled an unholy noise from seeping out from between her lips.

"quiet. madam scribner's still asleep." he warned, holding back a cocky grin.

what a sick freak. fingering her in a fucking library?? what was he thinking?

she covered her mouth at the attempt of another moan pushing through with his movements unceasing, abiding silently despite the protests inside her head.

she shook her head after a moment, her brows furrowed.

"i can't do this."

"sure you can dear."

"no, no, no i genuinely can't-"

she couldn't. not with someone she hated so much but was so attracted to? all it did was fuck with her feelings.

"keep reading."

she gulped dryly, trying to restart but without warning he'd slipped a first finger into her. she covered her mouth with her hand again, muffling the lewd noises from the innocent ears of the librarian a few metres away. sure the distance between them and madam scribner was large but it was only them there. if she woke up, there was no hiding.

deep breaths.

"lovage, similar to cE-lery, its common usages are for befuddlement draughts,"

her voice cracked as he swiped her clit with his thumb.

"well actually any confusing draughts." he interjected.

she groaned loudly in frustration with him interrupting and with the pressure he fiddled her with. he now clasped his own hand around her mouth, shushing her.

"that's all you need to know for this plant, don't worry about the rest dear." he eased, her taking his word for it seeing as she just wanted him to end this torture already.

he pushed in another finger, her slouching down on the chair as much as she could to push him deeper inside her.

he waited a second, slowly beginning to slide them in and out, careful as to not make excessive amounts of noise with the obscenely slick sounds envolping the silent room. the rough ends curled up, fingers exploring her insides with expertise.

she could've came on just two fingers alone.

"tell me, what was the name of the plant again?" he questioned quietly, his pace fastening by the second.she was limp now, lost in his touch. this was becoming clearer now. it was just his sick and perverted way of humiliating her.

"..huh, m'sorry..?" she asked, nearly sounding drunk as her eyes gazed up at his again.

"name of the plant dear," he uttered, looking her into her soul as he was reminded of how easily he would sway the morals of others simply by using his less.. dignified skills along with his good looks.

"lavage," she answered, confident as she didn't think over her answer.

"haven't you been listening? or has me simply slipping a finger or two into you made you this dumb?" he cooed, his words lined with a condescending type of mocking.

"oh, fuck- lovage i meant-"

she was quick to correct herself, earning a swipe at her clit as he began to pay more attention to it.

he sighed, as if this was an inconvenience to him - if so why was he doing this?

"and it's similar to?"

merlin, she didn't need an entire herbology lesson whilst he was messing around with her insides.

"celery,"

she was met with an ever deeper push of his fingers, hitting a spongey area deep inside her, one she didn't even think was possible for him to reach with his fingers alone.

"again."

"..celery..?"

she was confused to say the least, his motive was rather unclear.

he tutted and abruptly pulled out his fingers, wiping them on the inside of the fabric as he slipped them out of her panties, smearing the remainder of her juices that he unsucessfully wiped away onto her thigh, making the sheer tights she wore glossier.

she squirmed, an uncomfortable tensing in her abdomen having being left to suffer.

"why- why d'you stop?" she murmered, her thighs rubbing together to mimic the previous sensation but not even being able to come close to the pleasure of it.

"i need to work harder to knock my teachings out of your pretty little head."

ೃ⁀➷ sorry for the abrupt ending i just wanted to get something out, lmk if you want a part two !!

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶

#tom riddle #knights of walpurgis #tom marvolo riddle #tom riddle smut #voldemort #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle x y/n #tom riddle x oc #harry potter #chamber of secrets

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cvpiddszn · 1 year

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𝐝𝐨𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐧𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐮𝐞 | 𝐣.𝐡𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐞𝐬

a/n: part three has been anticipated. i've been extremely busy rn, BUTTTT the last part is here, but i will continue to write for these two because i love them. a masterlist is in the making!!!! also might write for isla and quinn, nyx and luke, AND kie and nico

summary: birdie finally comes forward about her feelings

warnings: babies, suggestions towards sex, major miscommunication, fluff

word count: 3.1k

series: part one, part two, part three

My head was fucking pounding at the commotion downstairs. I could hear the squeals of the twins, their squeaks making the hangover worse than it already was. I tossed to the other side, feeling the cold sheets beneath my body at the new position. I closed my eyes hoping that sleep would consume me but alas: nothing. I knew the minute I walked down there Blair would know I was upset. With her empath ways which I silently cursed plenty of times, she could always sense when something was wrong but I knew that she wouldn’t say anything unless I told her myself.

I crawled out of the bed, making it and clearing out all of my stuff. We had plenty of guest bedrooms but Blair and Quinn had sort of claimed this exact one which was closest to baby Amara (which I would’ve thought was a curse waking up to her cries). Closing the doors softly in hopes that I wouldn’t be caught coming out of the guest bedroom.

I nearly slipped into Jack and I’s room without trouble but a small Lowen was blinking at me, “Mommy?” He asked, his head tilted to the side in a question and I closed my eyes sharply praying that this was all some kind of bad dream.

I turned around and opened my eyes, masking my face with one of contentment, one that showed that I was happy with my life. He stood right in front of me, so I leaned forward kissing his forehead, “Yes, baby? What do you need?”

“Why’d you come out of Auntie Blair and Uncle Quinn’s room?” Lowen’s blue eyes were held with curiosity and sometimes I wished that these boys inherited less traits of Jack.

I crouched down, placing my hand against his cheek, smiling softly. “I was just making sure the room was ready for them, cleaning up. I saw a hot wheels car that was on the carpet. We wouldn’t want Auntie Isla slipping and hurting herself on it. Would we?” The lie came easy, and I felt terrible having to lie to my boys but they weren’t old enough to understand. The words that Jack had said played through my head, but I knew that he would try to hide it from our kids for as long as he could. He believed in fixing things, he always had.

With a nod, Lowen raced down the stairs eager to do whatever it was that he was being entertained with right now. I finally walked into the room, seeing the blinds already open letting the sun come in. The alarm clock on Jack’s side of the bed read ‘10:29’, and I wanted to curl into the large bed and sleep. I was uncomfortable last night, and extremely cold knowing that J wasn’t there to warm me up. He was like sleeping beside a heater. always warm and never cold, which was why I was a good contrast for him. To cool him off when he got too warm.

Walking into the bathroom and locking the door behind me, I saw my reflection. My hair was a mess of curls, my makeup smudged, eyes were nearly red from crying. Starting the shower turning the dial much hotter than usual. To the point where I knew that it would turn my skin red after I got out.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Lake ran toward me, throwing himself at me as I made my way to the bottom of the stairs. Everyone was sat in the living room, Amara content to play with Blair on the floor while J and Quinn had a hockey game already playing. I nearly rolled my eyes before my son flung himself at me.

I caught him with a grunt, his legs clinging onto my thighs instead of my hips. I dragged him along, kissing his head feeling my arms beginning to get weak as he continued to cling. “Morning, sunshine.” I grinned down at him, letting myself sit down on the couch beside my husband. I knew Jack wouldn’t want his brother to know about his relationship problems and he knew that I didn’t either so he let his arm rest just behind me. A simple gesture that had my heart racing.

Lake crawled up to my lap, hugging me for a quick second before moving to play with his brother. The boy couldn’t sit still to save his life, always needing to be preoccupied with something. As he left, Jack’s hand grabbed onto my shoulder pulling me in while he continued to talk to his older brother. My legs pulled up to the side and I watched as Blair spoke to my little girl in a quiet voice to make sure not to startle her even though she had two older brothers who are extremely loud.

Without thinking my head resting on J’s shoulder, I closed my eyes comforted by his warmth. When I opened my eyes I saw Blair’s eyes nearly question me. Kie must’ve told her something so I only looked away, avoiding her eyes because I knew that she could read me just as well as I could read her.

I stood up leaving my human heater, “Hey, Blair, you mind helping me in the kitchen?” I asked, to which she nodded. “J, you mind watching her?” I asked as Isla stood up beside me, I fiddled with my fingers resisting the urge to pick at them and pull at the skin.

“She’s just right there?” Jack replied, giving me a harsh look. It was hard to ignore a lot when your husband was actively glaring at you as if I had said the stupidest thing ever.

Quinn slapped his brother’s shoulder, looking towards me and smiling. “We’ve got her, Mads.” Even after I had been married, he still called me a nickname that had my last name in it and I missed the familiarity of being young. “Don’t we?” The oldest Hughes stood up from his spot, scooping Amara up from her spot on the floor.

Looking towards Isla with a smile, seeing her admiration of Quinn with a baby in his arms. I grabbed onto the blonde’s arm pulling her along with me to the kitchen. When we were a good distance from the living room I let her go.

Blair held her hands on her hips, holding some motherly pose that would’ve made me laugh in any other situation. “Okay, now, what’s been going on? Why is Jack looking at you like you committed some crime against him? Kie had mentioned something-”

My arms wrapped around her quickly, and she paused when she felt that I was crying, my shoulders shaking with every sob. I sank to the floor, and she followed with me. Her hand rubbed circles into my back, there had been plenty of times that we had cried together, yelled (or what Isla considered yelling) at each other, and so much more.

“I can’t, I don’t know how,” None of my words made sense as everything just followed me. Not a sentence seemed to form right in my head or mouth. “J, he- and Amara. I can’t-”

“Hey, take your time. Relax, you’re safe alright? I’ve got you, B. Always.” Her words only made me sob harder.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

"Hey angel, you ready to go?” Quinn’s voice came closer, Blair and I both paused looking up at the boy with wide eyes. My eyes were no doubt puffy and red, while we were both sitting on the floor in a comfortable position that we had been in for a while. I could already feel my ass beginning to hurt from the hardwood under.

Blair shook her head as I removed myself from her sniffling softly and wiping under my eyes, thankful for waterproof mascara. I grabbed one of Amara’s face clothes ran it under cold water and dabbed it under my eyes to reduce the swelling, hearing their hushed whispers behind me.

“We’re taking your kids to Kie’s, we’ll be back sometime later tonight.” Blair’s soft voice was heard through the silence, she placed her head on my shoulder in a comforting spot and I bit back the urge to brush her hand off but she knew exactly what I needed even if it wasn’t said. She quieted her voice between the both of us, “I want you to go out tonight, I want you to take the time to fix it. You two are the one relationship I know that can work anything out. You are not your parents, Bird.”

I only nodded, placing the cloth over the tap turning around and giving the blonde a small smile. One of reassurance, that I was okay and that I would be okay. It was something so little, a doubt in the back of my mind. Old Birdie would’ve laughed if she found out what I had been so upset over.

Blair left the kitchen, passing her husband who gave her a look that had her nodding. I always admired the two, their communication and how with a simple nod Blair knew exactly what Quinn meant. They were synced up, and if you believed in soulmates; they were the perfect example of it.

“Trouble in paradise?” Quinn finally spoke, keeping his distance from me. Unless I had said or initiated any sort of physical touch, Quinn preferred not to. He wasn’t a big hug person, despite his younger brother being the definition of physical affection. Though he made an exception for me.

I managed a laugh, his commentaries were never all that serious. He knew that was what I had Blair around for. “Something like that,” I replied, wiping my wet hands on a towel to dry them. Quinn gave me this look that I knew he knew and the dread began once again. The aching feeling of people knowing. The look of pity on people’s faces nearly made me want to cry all over again.

“I’m sure you’ve been lectured enough about this so I won’t bother with it. You know already. I will ask though, are you okay, Mads?” I was silent for a while as he waited for my response, deciding that I needed a drink because my head was beginning to pound once again.

“Word of advice: do not drink when you have kids. You will never sleep or have any freedom. I think it’d be a little different if it was just the boys but Amara doesn’t like letting me sleep at all, she prefers to cry and scream until I get J. Daddy’s girl for sure.” I spoke, hoping to avoid his question. “It was only eight years ago when you swore off women and claimed you never wanted children. Then you got married and I imagine that you’re trying for children?”

We had somehow made our way into a spot in the kitchen that allowed you to peer through the living room. Quinn’s eyes glanced toward Blair, with a sort of glassy look, it took him a minute to respond but I never questioned it. “I never wanted children, always expected that I would be the cool Uncle who spoiled the kids but kids make her happy. I want her to be happy.” He swallowed, I leaned my head onto his shoulder, to which he wrapped his arm around my arm, pulling me into his side.

“You guys are good together. You’d be a great dad, Quinn.” I reassured him, he kissed the top of my head and I already felt much lighter. The pair were perfect, the quiet and reassuring with the calm and calculated. They would make some kids extremely proud one day.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

"Do you have everything? The diapers, the car seat, wipes?” Jack’s worry was clear to everyone as he began to name things on a list like it was memorized and I nearly smiled rolling my eyes at him but bit the inside of my cheek to keep myself back.

Instead, I placed my hand on his shoulder, “Everything is in the bag, nothing has been removed and you even watched Quinn put the car seat in to make sure that it was put in right.” My voice was light and when Jack looked back at me, I could see so much worry. I looked towards the couple at the door, waving them off, “You better leave now before J finds something that you need.” I shooed, walking over toward Blair who had Amara snuggled in with her.

When I backed up, I could feel a crash into my legs and when I looked down I could see little five-year-old hands on my thighs, unable to wrap themself around me. I turned around in what little space I had being trapped between the five-year-old arms. Lake looked up at me, wide-eyed. It wasn’t often that they left the house without us, sure there was a lot of travelling from Michigan to New Jersey so that we could be close to their grandparents for the summer, but within their five years, there was a lot of going to Jack’s games travelling. Especially when Jack’s team played against Quinn or Trevor’s.

I smiled, ruffling the boy’s hair. Quinn called out to Lake telling him that they were leaving and the boys scrammed from his spot, hurrying out the door and closing it behind him. I could hear the gravel crunching underneath the tires.

Feeling hands wrap around my waist, I embraced the feeling, letting Jack stand behind me and slightly rock me as my head came back to rest against his shoulder while his head stayed in the crook of my neck. Placing a kiss between my neck and shoulder, I sighed aloud, letting out a breath of anxiety that I held.

There was a silence that washed over the house, it was quiet and I wasn’t sure what to do with it. I had been home with the kids for the last six months. Did I know what to do with myself in my free time? It was obvious that neither of us wanted to have sex, especially with the tension that filled our marriage for the last two days.

My hand placed itself over Jack’s pulling it from my body but I kept a hold of his hand dragging him with me to the couch. We sat down, my hand still placed into his and I cherished the feeling of it.

“We should talk,” I suggested finally feeling prepared. Though I wished I had some script, it would help with the anxiety. “About last night, about Amara, about everything. But first I want to say something, and you’re not going to argue with me on it because I already told them yes.” He never said anything so I took it as the queue that I could continue. “I’m going back to work in a month. We’ll hire a Nanny, Amara will already be seven months old. I can’t take care of the kids all by myself anymore. I got a job offer at a University, I’ll be getting paid twice the amount I did working at a High School.”

Jack only stared at me, as if he was trying to process my words and still manage to come up with something smart that wouldn’t make either of us upset, so he nodded. “Okay, we’ll start interviewing people next week. I might not always be there, it’s the first roadie of the season.”

I nodded my reply, I knew that Jack didn’t like Nannies, especially since he claimed that Isadora took care of four children herself without any help but I couldn’t do it. “There has to be changes here too. I don’t want a divorce or to confuse our kids. I want to sleep in our bed, but I was doing some research and it said that babies need to start sleeping in their cribs when they’re six months old or they’ll get confused. Amara is confused and upset right now, I’m giving her formula now and she’s a bit fussy about it and she’s not used to you not being home. Sometimes we have to let her cry it out.”

“I get it, but sometimes we’re both too tired to argue with her.” He stated, and I remembered the time I had even brought her to sleep with us because she wouldn’t stop and the boys were in the room next door. I definitely regret setting the boys in the room next door to the baby.

“Another thing, I know that it’s different for both of us. You would think the second time around and with previous twins, I would be an expert but I’m not. I can assure you that a girl is much different than two boys. One more thing that I know is that I love you, and I’m sorry. I was completely jealous of our little girl getting all of your attention. It wasn’t fair that I was being selfish.” His hand squeezed mine in reassurance and he gave me a soft smile, kissing my cheek gently.

“I know that was hard for you to admit,” He teases with a smile knowing my stubbornness and I slap his bicep in protest, nearly speaking up in my defence before his lips came crashing onto mine and pulling back, “I'm sorry too. But to be fair, it wasn’t that I didn’t want to give you attention. You’ll always be my number one, Bird. Amara is a bit like her mother, don’t you think? Extremely needy and jealous?” He kissed me once again, his hand finding my back before laying me on the couch with him kneeling between my legs, his wedding band creating a chill on the back of my thigh as he brought it up to rest against his hip.

My hands pressed against his cheeks, pulling him closer. “I just love it when you insult me trying to get me in your bed, Mr. Hughes. Might want to watch your tongue.” I teased softly, my nails softly brushing against his jaw.

His brows raised in a challenge and I only grinned further. “You’ll get into my bed, either way, Mrs. Hughes.” Jack’s mouth came crashing against me again, and suddenly it felt as though we were newlyweds unable to keep our hands off of each other. It was rare that we actually slept around the time, staying up late and talking or doing other activities that involved no sleep. Little did I know that I would always remember this night.

#jack hughes imagine #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes blurb #nhl x reader #nhl imagine #quinn hughes imagine #nico hischier imagine #hughes brothers #luke hughes imagine #jack hughes #cvpiddszn writes

765 notes · View notes

wonyrs · 6 months

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౨ৎ rain bird

pairing maknae line x fem reader genre fluff , established relationship warnings cursing , food mentions, english isnt my first language

? school life w/ ur enha bf

kim sunoo

somehow u two manage to make the uniforms a tad cuter than anyone else

never getting ur work done in any class fs (but u still pass? its the dawg in u) u two sit in the back of the room and have a whole station just for cute instagram posts

"aww babe u look so pretty today" "really? i should say that to u, love :3" cue the deadpanning from anyone in a mile radius of u

LITERAL GODS OF PHYSICAL TOUCH AND EVERYONE HATES IT. on the way to lunch? holding hands. dodgeball in pe? holding on to each other like ur lives depend on it. the weather a little chilly? "let me warm u up schnookums :>"

half of ur friendgroup think of u two as an ideal couple while the other half is done w ur shit (dw they love u)

when exams are coming up, u two hang out at each others houses to help each other with whatever u guys are struggling with

he has full faith in u passing the exams but still offers to calm u down by singing a song, giving u a massage, ordering ur favourite takeout, or anything that eases ur nerves :(

"don't be scared, y/n. ure the smartest girl i know, so theres absolutely zero chances of u failing this test, believe me!"

yang jungwon

ur boyfriend being a former class president and u being the current class president is either a blessing or karma for something u did in ur past life

"oh my gosh there's so many papers to send off, wonnie can you help me?" "nope, i stopped doing this type of work 3 years ago" before getting up and carrying all the stacks himself

when u mess up during a speech, be prepared for endless teasing while being reassured that u still deserve a spot in the council (thank u for fake tears and ur bf's soft heart)

if u have to stay after school to work on council duties, jungwon stays behind w u and uses the excuse that he needs help on his hw to be by ur side

he still takes the chance to lovingly bully ur ass

"u know, if u just refused the offer of being class prez we could be in my room rn watching the mlb movie" "babe be quiet before i actually lose it and start crying"

however, the longer he's with u, the more concerned he gets when he realizes that u leave school (alone) around 7 pm when the sky is getting dark and all sorts of creeps are walking around

he knows ure capable of protecting urself but his 'spiderman' bf instincts tell him to walk u home everyday no matter how late it is and tune out the fact that he'll get spanked by his mama for returning so late at night

"u forgot something, love. i need 10 kisses minimum for walking u this late, uberjungwon needs his payment!"

nishimura riki

fully believing in the 'hates almost everyone at school but has a soft spot for u' + the rest of enha trope for u two

yes he acts nonchalant to anyone's attempts at flirting w him but the moment u compliment his skills in soccer bro startings twirling his hair and encourages u to say more

"ki u did so good! ure like blue lock fr" "really? i did so good guarding right? and making that goal? and dribbling? right?" yappa yappa yapping /j

during free period, he drags u to the court and has u play a 1v1 with him

uses the excuse of 'fixing ur form' to get as close to u as possible and hes not ashamed of it

"yeah so u just position ur arm right here and-" "ok but can u loosen ur grip on my hips please, focus on the training babe " "shhhh"

OMFG i imagine him asking u out after winning a really important game with enha cheering him on at the back (big bros)

it'll be when u congratulate the team outside of the locker rooms when he just grabs u by the shoulders and professes a whole shakespeare typa love confession

his fangirls drop down sobbing the next day when u two walk in holding hands and he's carrying ur bag for u with the dopiest smile on his face

@ wonyrs 2023

a/n me when i dissappear for a month after my first post, come back with the trashiest post ever and a new layout LESGOOO anyways i hope u guys enjoy this and REMEMBER my requests are open so feel free to ask anything :> divider creds to v6que !! read before requesting !

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famwhy · 1 year

Text

Midnight Gardenias

Tangerine X Reader

Word Count: 3,439

Warnings: cussing, blood, little bit of gore (not too much detail), alcohol

This fic was inspired by the amazing @aeaean--bliss and their fic maybe. Please go check it out if you haven't already - it's a really good read, I promise 🙏

Weeks.

It had been weeks since he last texted. Weeks since he asked where you were. Weeks since you've had any form of contact with him.

Stupid. That's what it was. All of it. It was all so stupid.

Sure, you did kind of tell him to leave but that didn't mean you wanted him to leave your life. Granted, he wasn't a mind-reader but still. He should've used common sense to gauge as much.

Now that he was gone, ironically enough, you were just constantly being tortured with thoughts of him, him, him. Just him.

When you went to the ice cream parlour the other day, a man behind the counter had a tash and you couldn't help but think that Tan's was a hundred times better. Similarly, when you heard a hint of a British accent that sounded more Northern, you compared it to the Brit you knew's accent - quite obviously preferring it over the random man.

Hell, you couldn't even watch a West Ham game without thinking of him and his stupid socks with the logo printed onto them. West Ham was supposed to be your favourite football team, not something that reminded you of him!

And it was so dumb - it was just so dumb - that you were probably the only one suffering; that your feelings were probably left unreciprocated. It hurt so much. It felt like a giant claw ripped through your flesh to grab at your heart and dig its sharp teeth into it, all-the-while Tan stood there, watching with a scoff of derision, mocking you for falling in love with him like the little shit he was.

Frustration couldn't even begin to describe what you felt towards your whole situation.

"Dammit, what was I gonna do again?"

Ah, that's right, you were about to watch The Mandalorian.

God, you wished you had a man like Mando. A caring guy who was sort of stand-offish but not to a degree where he was a complete jerk; more so to the perfect degree of optimum mysterious-ness any girl would want in a guy. And the fact that he was a good dad added like, a hundred more attractive points to his list of desirable traits.

But nooo, you just had to get a guy who was so in over his head with every action he did, it was atrocious.

A continuous 'beep!' coming from your fridge had your foggy eyes clear up and scan through the open capsule for what you originally wished to source out. Unfortunately, it was almost completely empty. How wonderful.

"When will life ever go my way?"

With a swing of your arm, you slammed the door shut.

Now, you wished you could say that you saw it coming and were able to move out of the way just in time but— that would just be a lie. It had all happened way too fast.

The wobbling of the fridge as the door shut; the container at the top abruptly being thrown off balance; and the sharp spike of pain that erupted from the top of your scalp.

"Argh! Shit!"

That hurt like a bitch.

As your hand slowly rose up to rub against your poor head, a small 'ding!' came from your phone.

Seemed as though something wanted your attention.

Jerk r u home rn? 12:35 p.m.

What's this? Did someone decide they were suddenly on speaking terms with you again?

The thought had you rolling your eyes.

Jerk Y/N, i don't have time for games 12:37 p.m.

Ha, this was coming from the same guy who just loved to play games with your mind when it came to his feelings.

Just who the hell did he think he was? Going AWOL on you for a couple of weeks just to hit you up with a text at twelve-thirty in the night asking if you were home; as though he didn't just torture you with thoughts on whether or not you messed everything up and caused him to leave you for good; as though he wasn't causing you to lose your fucking mind trying to decipher what the fuck he meant whenever he parted his lips to say something just to not say anything at all; as though he wasn't the only thing on your mind since you first met all that time ago.

Ridiculous. His audacity was utterly ridiculous.

Well... from the looks of things, it seemed like he wasn't going to send another text.

Good riddance.

Him and his pride could go fuck themselves.

Jerk love, please, i need you 12:41 p.m.

He left you alone for weeks without any form of contact, weeks without any sort of apology.

He stepped all over you like a fucking doormat; left your body aching from head-to-toe from the constant rejection; had your eyes bulging out from how desperately you didn't want to give him your tears.

You should hate him.

So then, why...?

...why was it that you found your fingers gliding across the screen as soon as you registered that last text in your head?

He needed you.

He'd never said that before.

Maybe...

Maybe you could—?

You yh, i'm home 12:41 p.m.

No response, just a simple 'read' underneath - of course. Why did you even let yourself hope for anything more?

No sort of elaboration, nothing. Just left you in the dark with no explanation whatsoever for why he asked that question.

Weeks of not talking or contacting you at all and then he just hit you with that. He was probably on his way to freeload off of you right now.

Pathetic. Not just him, but you too. How could you let him bounce off of you like that? He was a fucking leech and you just let him drain you dry.

You almost didn't notice when there was a knock at your door - whoever it was could wait—

—except, no, apparently they couldn't - for, not long after, the knocks turned into several slams done in rapid succession. Those, paired with the migraine you were starting to get for trying to decipher the indecipherable, made for a killer ache inside your head; one that was really starting to grind your gears.

The knocking continued.

"Fucking— I'm coming, alright?!"

You grumbled under your breath, bitter feelings for the man you loved seeping into your current mood; ready to be unfairly unleashed onto the poor individual stood at your door.

"What the fuck do you...?" You trailed off, one hand against the handle of your now-open door, one hand losing its grip on your hip to flop by your side as you gazed on in astonishment.

There, stood before you, was Tangerine. Though, that wasn't what surprised you.

No, instead, what surprised you was the darker patch of blue on his waistcoat and the crimson seeping through his white undershirt, staining it and causing it to look grossly soggy.

He was hurt.

"Holy shit! You're bleeding."

"Is that so? I didn't fucking notice."

He hissed the sentence out, venom coating his tongue and frustration written clear on his visage - directed straight at you as though you were the one in the wrong here. The fucking audacity.

You parted open your mouth, ready to yell at him through unfiltered lips; burning with bottled up rage that was ready to spill over like a witch's wicked brew in a cauldron when—

"Argh! Fuck me!"

His knees started to buckle and his legs nearly gave out as he winced, buckling over with both muscular arms wrapping around his gut. The sight was foreign to your eyes. You had never seen him so weak.

"Holy shit," you cussed again, moving to aid him back up.

Of course, him being the stubborn little shit he was, he damn near pushed you away as soon as you offered up help. Luckily, he lost too much blood for the push to actually do anything.

...was it appropriate to call that lucky?

While you would have loved to ponder your fucked up morality further, the sticky substance that soaked through your fingertips seemed to call for your attention with a higher priority.

"Holy shit—" the cold substance ran down your arm, "—what the fuck? I should call the ambulance at least."

"No."

His voice was stern and abrupt; callous and uncaring. His brows had furrowed so deeply and his expression became near-deadly. He had never looked at you with such animosity before. It caused a pang of pain to shoot through your heart.

Just how much did you not know about this man?

"Argh! Fuckin' 'ell!"

He winced, eyes screwing shut and expression loosening up into one you would describe as more vulnerable than before.

Vulnerable was something you were around him, not the other way around. It felt strange. It felt wrong.

"You gonna let me in or have me fuckin' bleed out 'ere, love?"

"Shit."

Similarly to how he aided you back when you last saw each other - you looped one of his arms around your neck, the cold metal of his rings sending familiar, pleasant shivers down your spine, and helped carry him inside by shifting a majority of his weight onto you. It was almost a little funny how the role reversal came into play. If you were delusional, you might have even called it fate.

Lucky you weren't delusional.

"Jesus-fuckin'-christ," he cussed, anger as prevalent as ever while you slowly laid him down on the soft, plush couch, "can't believe that fucking bastard got me."

The blood was still seeping through his wound, not quite gushing out but certainly leaving an impression on your poor couch.

The wound was huge and utterly ugly. For a moment, you wondered what it would feel like if you had obtained it.

Your heartbeat picked up its pace. Perhaps you shouldn't have imagined that.

"What the fuck? What the fuck?!"

His pained expression wasn't making things any better— just what on Earth did he get himself into?!

"Holy shit! I should call Lemon at least, right?!"

"He's busy."

"He's busy?!" You stared at him, utterly bewildered, "what on earth could he be doing that stops him from helping out his injured brother?!"

He didn't respond, only choosing to grunt as he shifted in his seat.

It was stupid - utterly stupid - that he thought it was perfectly fine to pull up to your house in the middle of the night, crimson seeping out his stomach like a luscious waterfall only seen in fantasy movies, knock on your door, and stumble into your house while denying you the right to call the ambulance - the very organisation that was made to deal with these types of messes!

"Tan, do you know how fucked up this is?!"

He didn't respond again. Whether or not it was on purpose, you were unsure of. That wound was probably hindering his ability to speak but, knowing him, he also probably didn't wish to either.

"Fuck. Okay, okay—" you took in a deep breath through your nose, "—okay. Lemme just..."

Your knees thudded against the ground and your hands reached out, fingertips curling around his now-red, linen shirt.

"How did you even get so hurt in the first place?"

It had been an off-handed comment, whispered as such. You weren't expecting an answer so - when his hand shot to your own and clenched it with such strength, you had gasped and winced - to say that you were surprised would be an understatement.

His grip loosened not long after and your eyes trailed from his wound to his face, making contact with the softened hues that were almost laced in... desperation?

"Love, no."

At first, you thought he was talking about treating his wound - but that didn't make sense. If he didn't want you to treat his wound - to help him - he wouldn't have come to your house in the first place.

No, he must've been talking about your question. Of course he wouldn't want you to know how it happened. What did you expect?

"Fine," you lamented, "I won't pry. Just... let me help you."

He paused for a moment, as if letting the thought load, before ultimately letting go of your hand and leaning back - another wince making its way onto his face.

You took that as a sign to lift his shirt - and boy was it a sight to see.

Luckily, there didn't seem to be any green so it was most likely not infected, meaning he still had a shot to live. The wound was large but you were no medical expert, you had no clue whether or not he could die from it and, quite frankly, you didn't wish to find out.

"What's the ma'er, love? Can't handle a bi' of blood?"

How he had the capacity to be his snarky self while this injured was beyond you.

"No, I've just never seen such..." you trailed off, searching for the word, "...copious amounts of it."

"Ya get used to it after awhile."

Ha, so this wasn't new, was it? Made sense, you were freaking out more than he was and he was the one with the excruciating wound.

"How do I...? How do I treat it?"

He rose a brow. "You don't know how to treat a wound?"

"Hey, I got a degree in law, not medicine."

He grunted, shifting up a little. "D'you have a first-aid kit on ya?"

"Never had the need for one. I have bandages though?"

"No use if the wound i'n't clean." He sighed. "What about alcohol?"

You rose a skeptical brow.

"Not for me— well, it is for me but not in the way you think." He then gave you a pointed look. "I know you have alcohol on ya, you've always 'ad a problem with it."

Perhaps the timing was inappropriate but, you could feel your stomach flutter at the prospect that he remembered such a trait about you.

"Yeah, I've got some in the kitchen."

He nodded and you pushed yourself back onto your feet, gaze trained onto the entrance of your kitchen.

"Stay here."

"Yeah, well, I'm not fuckin' goin' anywhere, am I?"

"Really? Because with how you've been gone for the past few weeks, I'm inclined to believe that - even with a wound like that - you would get up and leave as soon as I turn my back on you."

His jaw stiffened and you could see it; you could see the urge to talk resting on his tongue. But - like always - he refrained from saying another word.

How disappointing. But then again, not unexpected.

You trudged to the kitchen, bare feet making contact with the cold ground as you stepped upon the white tiles that had slowly gone grey as the years went by, monotonous just like your life once was before you had the pleasure of meeting Tan. You couldn't exactly say you wished to go back to it.

Every day you would wake up, get ready, go to work, go home, then go out. Each time looking for a new guy to latch onto. The colours of your world back then were different to now, you couldn't say they were more vibrant or any less dazzling but you could say they were different. Back when you weren't hung up on a guy who had the balls to show up to your door at midnight with a huge, gaping wound in his stomach.

You tugged yourself away from your thoughts to retrieve the large, glass bottle resting at your top cabinet; fingers lacing around the rim with a certain level of experience only seen in an alcoholic. Many would describe you as one. You would too.

"Alright," you spoke, making your way back towards the male, "I've got it. Now what?"

"What d'you think? Pour it over the wound."

You could go without the snark.

With a roll of your eyes and a small huff, you crouched back down beside him, slowly lifting his shirt and dark waistcoat to once more observe the injury. That thing was really horrible to look at.

As you took the sight in again, his gaze trailed to your phone, still open with the texts you exchanged displayed clearly on the screen, and he rose a brow.

"'Jerk'? You havin' a laugh, love?"

"Yeah. And it's a damn good one too."

He just rolled his eyes.

"I'm serious, Tan. You left me hanging for weeks - almost a month - and then you come knocking on my door at midnight with blood all over you? What the fuck do you want from me?"

"Nothin', I don't—" he winced and let out a grunt as you poured the liquid onto the hole, "—don't want nothin'."

You didn't believe him. Not for a second.

"Really?"

"Look, dahlin', I really don't wanna do this right now."

"Too bad—" you gave him a pointed look, "—because we're doing this. Right here. Right now."

"I just said I don't wanna fuckin' do this."

"Yeah? And I don't give a fuck what you want right now."

"Love— argh! Fuck!— please."

"No, I—"

"Fuckin' 'ell," he cut you off, venom practically hissed through gritted teeth, "are you deaf or some'n? Just close your bloody mouth."

The room fell into dead silence. Not a word was spoken, not a chirp in the air - just the incessant ticking sounds of your clock echoing in the background, reminding you that - though you were going through the most frustrating thing right now - time still moved regardless. No one cared.

Once again, like the street lamps had back when you were in his car, your lights coated him in that warm blanket of orange. You just wanted to scream at them for being so misleading, for trying to trick your mind into thinking this man was anything but cold and ruthless.

Ha, you were going mad. Wanting to yell at an inanimate object? As if.

You stood abruptly, walking over to a nearby shelf to slide open another cabinet with a roll of gauze inside before silently returning to the couch - sight set on covering his wound. You may have just had an argument, but you were no monster.

Then, he spoke again.

"You changed up the house a bit since I last came."

'Oh, is that so?' you wanted to say, 'who gives a fuck?'

His attempt at a conversation was pathetic. He was pathetic.

'You're pathetic.' you longed to tell him.

But instead, you opted to muttering, albeit a little bitterly, "wanted to spruce the place up a little."

'Anything to distract me from you.'

"It's nice." He hummed before going silent.

Your nails then dug into the edge of the gauze, pulling and prodding at it until a corner gave way before you were able to further force it apart.

"Sit up. Away from the armrest." You muttered.

He did so without question or objection.

You then reached around his body - both arms mere centimetres away from embracing his abdomen; breath fanning against his toned chest and nose barely grazing his skin - before sticking the gauze onto his back and winding it around to his front.

"Ya go'a do it a li'le harder than that, love."

You frowned before tugging, with way more force than necessary, and adding, "this hard enough for ya?"

His wince made way for a small, fleeting feeling of satisfaction to blossom in your chest. A small bit of revenge for the acres of pain he had caused you these past couple of weeks.

Served him right.

You didn't say a word when you were done, didn't even give a snide look that would blatantly tell him what you were thinking. Just pulled away, one hand clenching tightly around the gauze, one hand reaching out for your phone.

He only spoke again when you reached the door frame, hand placed on it in the same position as his once was, back facing him and eyes trained on your staircase.

"For what it's worth, love, I really am sorry."

Yeah. You were too.

#tangerine #bullet train #tangerine x reader #tangerine bullet train #x female reader #x reader #tangerine x you #tangerine x y/n #bullet train fanfic

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green-alien-turdz · 3 months

Note

any life tips for someone still in school(school tips or not)

really mfin struggling n your real smart so i figured id ask you first

Ion know if I'm the best person to be askin life advice from, but I'll do my best. Also I suck with mildly vague prompts, so I'll do my best.

-Give yourself some mfing grace. You are not perfect n you won't ever be. That's not a bad thing! You're only human. Of course, set goals for yourself n always aim for somethin greater, but holy fuck, it's okay to not meet that. At the end of the day, you fuckin tried n that's all that matters. Even if the only effort you can put into tryin one day is just showin up or even just plannin shit out, it's a step towards bein better. You don't have to meet all of these unrealistic expectations you have for yourself. You are not a robot.

-Take breaks. Legit, if you keep pushin yourself too hard, you WILL burn out n the longer you've been pushin yourself, the longer you will take to get outta that. People will spend years thinkin that they have to constantly be this machine. Eventually you'll start to stumble, get mad, push even harder n then fade out. It can happen in the blink of an eye, which is why it's SO important to take time for yourself. Make sure you're not stressin 24/7 about whatever it is you be stressin over. The world will not end bczus you needed to catch your breath.

-Appreciate what n who you are, no matter what stage in your life you're at. If you're flunking classes, you've still got greatness in ya. If you aren't that great at socializin with friends n shit rn, that doesn't mean you're a terrible person. We can't always be what we want to be, n there's nothin wrong with that. Every second you are alive, you are growin in one way or another. There's ups n downs, but that doesn't mean shit. You are gonna be way harder on yourself n think 10x worse of everything you do that just about anyone else would. n even if there is some dickhead out there who wants to talk shit non-stop about you, fuck what they think, man. If some sad mf has nothin better to do than to put others down, then their word don't mean shit. There are times in life where you won't like what you see lookin back at you n if you're ready to change, go for it, but if you need a minute, that's okay too.

-Make an effort to see the good. Whether you're really strugglin rn or if you're in a good position mentally, always take a second to just appreciate anythin that is good. It can be the smallest things! They can be stupid things, it doesn't matter. Find some sort of positive anchor to keep you as grounded as you can be. Life treatin you like shit n you feel like shit? At least I know that this show or movie I really like exists. Did you lose someone? Well at least you had them for the time that you did. So on n so forth. Sometimes you just gotta step outside n breathe, allow yourself to just realize that you're alive. It might not be great, or good, or even okay, but you're here n there are good things out there for you.

Okay, now some like actual life tips lol

-You are not your grades bro. Whether it be your parents expectations or your own, the way schools gradin works just doesn't always align with how a mf might work n operate. Sometimes we just mess up a bit too or don't understand a topic all too well n there's nothin wrong with that. It just seems like a big deal bcuz of how they like to measure n quantify how smart they think you are with a letter or number. You're not gonna get everythin in life, so it's complete bs that something that you maybe just needed more time on can have a shitty score slapped on it n have you made to feel dumb n shit like that.

-If you can get a job n want one, then fuckin do it. Apply everywhere. Even if it's somethin you don't think you'd be good at, trust me, you'll pick it up. The rejection can suck, but you get right back on the mf horse n apply more places. Call or go in to check in on your application (this just reminds them sometimes to fuckin look). Interviews can be nervewrackin, but for a minimum wage job, they'll legit be around 10-15 minutes (n that's stretchin it for some). When you get the job, you will probably feel like a dumbass or a child bcuz you don't know how to do shit yet- but give it a few weeks n you could do everythin with your fuckin eyes closed. They are not gonna treat you what your worth n it's gonna suck. Hours are long when you need more time for school n non existent when you need cash. If it doesn't work, that's fine too. Hopefully you can stay at jobs for at least a year, that shows commitment on resumes.

-Don't allow yourself to be walked all over. I know this kinda goes against some of what I was sayin in the work tip, but that's slightly different (but there comes a point there too where you need to put your foot down to bein treated like garbage). This world will try n chew you up n spit you out a hundred times over, but don't let stupid mfs be the ones to do it. That friend who kinda treats you like shit? Well, talk to them about it, see if they change. n if they don't, end the friendship. Yeah it sucks, especially bcuz you probably still care about them, but if you allow even one mf to treat you n your feelings like some useless or disposable thing, then others will take the same opportunity with you. It's not always that simple, trust me, I still have people in my life that have done horrific things to me which I still allow to treat me like shit- but if you can, please bring yourself to do it. You are worth so much more than how some people might treat you. Even if this isn't an issue in your life rn, there will be people along the way who will be douches n try to take advantage of you or your generosity or whatever the fuck else. Shut that shit down as fast as you can.

#asks #dude i'm hella scatter brained rn so i had to cut this off #if you had specific tips you wanted lmk #i don't think this is what you were even askin for #i just can't think clearly #sorry #i hope things start lookin up for you dude

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freshlyrage · 9 months

Text

Running Like Water

Chapter 13

pairing: Javier Peña x OFC (written as xReader)

fic warnings: NSFW Explicit Smut (18+ MDNI) language, strained family relationships, mentions of drug abuse, discussions of insecurities and body image issues, daddy and mommy issues

fic tags: Best friends younger sister, Life-long crush, Friends to lovers, Unrequited love, slow burn, Push and Pull, Small Town Dynamics, Secret Relationships, latina MC, Fluff and Angst, OFC!Jessica Alba face claim, sorry Lorraine I'm bringing you into this, Time jumps, 2 year age gap, pre-canon

word count: 4.5k

A/N: Long time coming! I've been so busy getting ready for uni, I recently transferred colleges so my life is a MESS rn. I hope you guys like this one, new chapter hopefully next week. Enjoy my lovies

You were going to be an aunt. That was very true, very insane, but very true. Your best friend, sister in law (to be), and childhood bully had a tiny little thing in her belly. A little friend in there, Tía Andrea.

You weren't having kids for a long time, you think, so this little blessing was going to be spoiled to a T.

Juan, you named the baby, if he was a boy, Julia, if she was a girl. An affinity for J names you've noticed, god help you.

After sulking at the thought of Javier dropping you the second he sees Lorraine, you do see your brother and congratulate him. You cry, because he's going to be a dad, you want to tell him to be the dad you two never got to have, but that was far too heavy for a guy like Frankie. You leave him be, because you were quite the cry baby and that he hated about you.

You groan in your bed, it had been 2 whole nights since Javi left you without a word. His face so full of nothing when he looked back at you for a chin raising nod as a goodbye.

You had the privilege of working at the summer school program from 9-2, the rest of your nights were alone. Spreading jam on toast, sitting criss-crossed dipping your finger in the purple goop and finger feeding your teething sister, who almost always gripped your finger and gnaw. It sort of hurt but tickled, the feeling of no teeth, hungry teething angry baby. Those were your moments of laughter.

You ranted to poor Marisol often, “Do you think Lorraine and Javi will just rekindle that flame? I'm so stressed Sol,” she had a permanent grin on her face so you felt like she never took your problems seriously. She was 11 months old, still you felt judged.

“I didn't want it to end”

Pause, a fucking pause.

“I didn't want it to end that way either. “

Your chest expanded and tightened at the thought. And you did what you have always done best.

Overthink it.

What if it was Houston that tore them, too grown too soon. What if them both standing in a wedding in their hometown, a town where they fell in love in, what if that becomes just too much for them and they realize that they can try the damn thing again. You narrow your eyes at your sister as she slobbers on her fist. Lorraine has always been prettier than you. You couldn't see why Javi wouldn't just crumble at her feet when she comes home.

And she's a Christian, like a good one.

You recall in your sophomore year being teased by a junior named Terrance. He had heard about the rumor (the half true rumor), that Javier hooked up with his best friends sister atop a car. Close, you thought.

Hook up though? Depended on your definition, and it was against the car, not on top. Anyway, he crowded you at your lunch table while your friends stood to get their meals. He claimed you made it up for attention, why would anyone cheat on Lorraine with you? You held it together, brows pulling tight and leaving without a word. Finding the bathroom and breaking down, an experience unique to teenage girls.

Biting back sobs in a bathroom stall.

You stare at your baby sister longer, “Don't ever let a boy talk you down, okay mama?” She babbles and you take an aggressive bite of your toast. Face screwing up realizing you never really liked this snack. And don't let a boy shut you out after he's been intimate with you. You shake your head no, I’ll tell you that one when you're older.

Like a light bulb hovering over your head, you grab your sister and walk out your room. Storming into the living room where your mother and her husband cuddled while watching some movie. The baby babbled at the sight of her daddy, “Going to bed.” You lie and plop your sister in their laps and hurry up the stairs before your mother could question you.

You lock your bedroom door and shed your clothes with thoughts of Javier and his stupid sexy mustache and smile. How pleased he seemed to be getting you off, bastard. You stare at the mirror while you're bare, the hickeys on your soft skin mellowing in the slightest. And despite wanting to go over to Javier's just to talk, you slip on pretty panties. Just in case.

You dig for something less appealing to stick on your body. If you don't tempt he wont have to see what's waiting for him under it all.

Jackpot.

Frankies track pants from high school, Laredo’s awful navy and black colors. Haven't they heard, navy and black is fashion suicide. You slip the loud material on, and then a gray tank top. You don't even bother with sneakers, slippers will do.

You don't even call, you exit through your window and hop off the small shed Mr. Warden recently built for his storage. Passing your own car and walking to Javier's house at 11 pm.

You're huffing 2 minutes in, despite Texas being famously flat, you still had the beastly hill to get to the two paths that led to Javier's home. The short cut that involved walking 3 minutes in the woods and ending at his house in less than ten, or the main road with long haul truckers and an additional 15 minutes to the walk.

“God, please don't let me get mauled by a wolf.” You mutter to yourself before making a left into the barely lit trail, one warm light at the beginning and one off in the distance at the end.

Well you don't die. You do get bit by some sort of bug on your elbow and startled by a squirrel. You just repeat to yourself that this is a good idea, the two of you need to communicate.

You end up at the Peña ranch, completely dark. You start to realize how silly it was for you to show up unannounced in the dead of night but the light from Javier's room has your stomach doing a strange flip. His window closed but the view of him sat at his desk was clear.

Javier heard your call and didn't even startle. He was confused for a moment, looking at his door to his room but ultimately he threw that idea away, you strolling in his house near midnight, no way.

Hearing a crunching of leaves and a shriek, Javier is at his feet and opening his window, his eyes meeting your flushed cheeks and a leaf in your hair.

Javier desperately tries to bite back a laugh at the sight, shirt strap off your shoulders, in track pants and slippers. Eyes wide in embarrassment, he’s just glad you aren’t hurt from whatever caused a piece of greenery to be stuck in your hair, a hand swiping to whack the thing away. Your hair disheveled from the midnight breeze, you were so damn beautiful. Always.

“Will you stop staring and let me in before your dad comes out here with a shotgun?”

Javier blinks, realizing he had just been ogling you for a bit too long, “Right, sorry.”

He grips your hands and lifts you in. You huff with the sketchy landing, effectively kicking your slippers off and dusting off those loud pants, your cheeks are still red, maybe it’s from the fall or the weather or something else. You sit on his bed, wiping your brow free of sweat. “This thing makes me sound like a fucking wind tunnel.” You tug at the oversized pants.

A strange primal heat spread across Javier’s chest seeing you wear pants that obviously weren’t yours but instead some boys.

The heat died when he realized they’re just your brothers. He remembers Frankie wearing them back in high school.

“Wait-how did you get here?” A worry flashing him, you bring your knees to your chest on his bed. He stood against his desk, his arms crossed, leaned forward a bit to be face level with your own. He was just a huge broad man, you had to pounce on him.

About that, you think.

“Walked, what were you reading?” You deflect, Javier shakes his head knowing what you're trying to do, he’s known you for a decade. He knows your often poor decision making skills and inability to lie, so he presses again, ignoring your question.

“I would have picked you up if you called.”

He would have, in a heartbeat. He’d drop anything and you knew that. Through all your insecurity and self depreciation you always understood that. That pissed you off, no wonder you had fallen so hard. He was always there, fixing up whatever mess you made.

He never did really mind, but you going M.I.A on him and then putting yourself in harm's way just to see him. That pissed him off pretty bad. Then again he could also never really be angry with you, not when you're finally here with him after so many years of no contact wondering if you were okay, happy, fed, healthy or whatever he killed himself over worrying about you.

You, and your fucking tiny tank top and big eyes like you've never done wrong in your life. To him you hadn't and if you did, those eyes tell him otherwise. You just shrug with a pretty pout and a pulled brow. That stupid thought of pressing his thumbs to your forehead smoothing out any worry you’ve ever had. “I wanted to go on a walk and ended up here.” Lie.

“It just isn’t safe.” Javi’s crossed arms flex when you narrow your eyes in annoyance.

“Believe it or not Agente, I used to take walks by myself back when you lived with Lorraine 5 months ago.” You bite and ah, thats why you’re here.

He saw the look on your face change when he spewed that awkward phrasing to Genie’s news.

Truthfully Javier didn’t mean for it to come out like that. He gripped the wheel to his truck when he dropped Genie off at her house. His pounding head leaning against the wheel, feeling so dumb. Ashamed.

He didn’t call you because he didn’t know how. Didn’t know if your mom would pick up or if you were actually upset with him. Maybe you felt different after he ate you out, after he bent you over and came on your back. Maybe he was a fucking idiot and moving too fast.

But the name drop gave him confirmation. Javier dropped his eyes to the floor and let out a sigh. “Yeah, about Monday…” His eyes stay trained to the ground, bracing himself for your attitude that he strangely adored. For you to rip him a new one for making you feel bad, for making you feel unsure in whatever this was. Waiting for a justified fuck off, or a firm talk like you gave him when he saw you again for the first time last week.

But instead he hears you sniffle.

Well fuck, you were crying and Javier looked like you had just stabbed him. Striding to you to get on his knees and hold your knees as you sat perched up on his bed crying over something so stupid. But the whole situation gave you deja vu.

A flash of trying to look pretty for him after the two of you kissed and fading at the hollow pit in your belly when you saw him arm in arm with Lorraine just two days after.

Communicate, it’s what you told yourself to do on your way to his house. You lost too many years by being too damn shy to tell him how you felt.

But now that the moment was here you couldn’t help but sob. But to feel like the insecure girl trying to compete with someone in a different ball park. But this time around Javi is repeating your name and attempting to soothe you, his hands moving from your knees to your wrists. Andrea, he presses so tenderly and so concerned.

Andrea, querida, what’s wrong, hey.

And all other soft calls to you. “I-I’m sorry- I don’t know why i’m crying, sometimes when I’m around you—i still feel like i’m sixteen and—" He drops his head, his hands loosening at the thought of all the mistakes he made with you. Your own hands flex and move from the hold completely as he’s at your mercy, head bowed. “I understand if Lorraine coming home changes things—you two were together for a long time and I know she’s probably less complicated or-or emotional—and not someone you need to hide— I know she’s easier to have and keep. I won’t be upset, I know in comparison i’m i don’t know, homely? And never really made for a good-“

“Andrea.” His voice strained but demanding you to stop your tearful rambling. It wasn’t like you to act that way, not anymore. You’ve grown too much to let all your insecurities wash you out, but it seems that maybe you never got over 1980, maybe you couldn’t just have casual sex with Javier Peña.

“What?” Your voice breaks, god. And there’s Javier with that same look of disappointment, in you, in himself or in your doomed situation, you weren’t sure but he looks absolutely torn in half.

His wet lips part like he was prepared to say something but they shut as his eyes search yours.

There’s silence again and his eyes drop and you begin to fear that maybe he agreed with all that you said. Maybe he knew that when his ex came home he’d be ready to fix that, maybe he knew Lorraine was a simpler, prettier girl. So your heart breaks further every second that passes. Every second he doesn’t look at you.

“Be with me.”

Your mouth parts at the softness in his voice, and what was left of your heart swelling in your chest. Tears fell harder in confusion and praying this wasn’t just another spec of false hope, hoping it wasn’t another kiss by his car or another if you tell me to stay.

You whisper, “What?”

His own eyes, glossy. “I don’t want anyone else, I don’t want you with anyone else. Nothing will change that. I don’t care if this is difficult, I don’t care if you think you’re hard to be with. I’m just asking you to be with me Andrea.”

You frown and shut your eyes tightly. You want him to repeat it again, over and over until you two wither away together.

Maybe he also knew that you two could never just be casual.

Javier and Andrea casually hooking up, who were you kidding?

“Okay-"

He doesn’t let you finish whatever came next, you don’t even know what else you were going to say because his lips were crushing your own. His hand holding the back of your head as he presses you close. Tying your souls in his own way, kissing and holding you.

Finally. Oh my god…

You arch your back into him, he groans against you when he realizes his uncomfortable position. His body hunched over in order to make out with you while you sat on the edge of his bed.

“Fuck it.” He mumbles before grabbing your ass and lifting you up. Your legs wrap against him, holding to him like a koala. His hands generously squeezing at your behind in the track pants. Your nails raking in his pretty brown hair, his mustache scraping your lips raw and you love it.

Laying you on his bed and kissing you there would be easy, but Javier obviously could care less about easy, I mean he just asked his best friends sister to be his for good. So he held you up, licking into your mouth with your legs wrapped around his stomach. Moaning when your core rubbed against his stomach.

“Am I too heavy?”

Javi scoffed against your lips, “shut the fuck up.”

He takes a few steps back and bumps into his desk. The image of you bent over it, taking him makes his pants tighten. He turns to sit you on it, shoving the mail from work on the floor, the thing you had been so interested in just 10 minutes ago.

He steps back slightly, your hands still attached to him with your swollen lips and desperation for more. You looking so pretty perched up on his desk. He had to have you every day, what was he going to do when he leaves, what was he going to do?

No time for that, he grabs your face again and continues kissing you, making up for all those years you spent wanting him. All the years he spent hiding how bad he wanted you.

Without warning Javier hooks his left hand in the front of your thin top and pulls it down. Your breasts spilling out, and he looks like he’s ready to devour you. His mouth immediately attaching to your left breast eliciting a high pitched moan from you. His wet lips suctioning on such a sensitive and untouched part of your body. His right hand moving to your unattended one. Kneading and gripping while his tongue flicked and swirled.

Your hair falls in your face as your heavy head falls at the pleasure. Still so wet, you move your hips to hopefully get some release, “Javi, please-“

His lips part from your breast, his mouth wet and open as he looks up to you, waiting for your request. But you’re so turned on by the circumstance, by him asking you to be his, by the way his hair is falling above his brow and by your breasts spilling out of your tank top “What do you need baby?”

“I want to come.”

His lips quirk at your bluntness. He wastes no time and begins pulling off your pants—or your brother pants. Your chest heaves when he stands straight to remove you from the desk and you get a glimpse of his hardness. Heavy in the oh so causal sleep pants that made your head spin

“I want you to come.” You add, he pauses his brows raising a bit. “We don’t have to take off our clothes, i’m not ready yet but we can-“ You cut yourself off feeling awfully shy and juvenile for the suggestion but his eyes darken at your bashfulness. You were ready to fuck him on Monday when you were clouded by horniness and the uncertainty of if it was your last time but now he wants to you to be his. You never need to rush.

He tilts his head slightly and grabs the bottom of your tank, freeing you from it. Leaving you bare breast and in your small little underwear, placed on his desk. His pretty girl, his, finally his.

“What baby? You wanna dry hump me? Like a couple of fucking teenagers?”

Your cheeks heat quickly, embarrassed about your stupid horny ask, feeling frozen in shame until Javi smiles again. Picking you up for what feels like a millionth time and sitting you in his lap at his desk chair. Straddling him, you feel the weight of him, so close to him.

You love kissing him, you never want to stop and you don’t, your lips working on his. Dragging to his cheek leaving wet kisses from jaw to neck. The perfect position to hear his own pretty breaths.

In between pants he gets a hold on your waist lifting you slightly. He gives himself space to move his erection, move it to help you feel him better. Lowering you, your lips suck and nip at his neck leaving a careless mark. A whine leaves your parted lips at the contact and his lips quirk in a sweet smile.

But the smile fades into an eyebrow screwing groan when you move on him. He repeats your name in worship. His forehead dropping to your shoulder while you use his body. So little clothing for you and so much for him. Yet he’s mumbling in your ear like he’s already on the verge of finishing.

Feeling the underside of him rub against the thin cotton throws you for a loop and you can’t seem to care how feral you have to look getting yourself off on Javi like this. His head turns to place his lips on the space below your ear.

“Don’t leave, let me keep you here forever.” He urges and your core is pulsing just from his words. “When you let me fuck you—fuck—i’ll make sure you’ll never need anyone else querida.”

“Oh god-“ You moan, your head dropping feeling closer, his own hips bucking up to meet you. The spaced out thrusts causing you to release a high pitched squeak.

Javier’s hand moving to the back of your head, forcing it to his neck to keep you muffled.

“Hijo?”

Your eyes widen and you squeeze Javi tighter. You stay frozen at the sound of Don Chucho calling outside of Javier’s room.

Javi doesn't let up, you hold a muffled whine in his neck as he continues to buck his hips into you. “Si papi-uh dad yeah?”

“Todo bien?”

Javier, still moving below you, slips his hand between you, his fingers dragging along your clothed cunt, helping speed up your process. You're so close but if you come now, there's no doubt his father will hear.

“I’m good, uh-working on some DEA stuff.”

You would laugh if the pad of his thumb wasn't circling your most sensitive part of your body.

“Alright hijo, try to sleep we have to be at Mrs. Glorias home tomorrow at 12. You're coming right?”

“Uh-yeah-I’m coming” His eyes grow large and he finally stills from under you, “I mean–yes I am coming…tomorrow.”

You stifle a laugh in his shoulder and he pinches your ass.

“Um, alright, goodnight.” His dad calls, the sound of footsteps and a door slamming ends that.

And you laugh into him forreal, but his fingers returning to your panties shut you up. “You're coming Javi?” you tease.

“Shut up-” He bucks harder and you’re close, your eyes going blank.

You move your lips to his neck again, “Papi huh?”

And then he breaks, “Fuck-Andrea”. Coming in his pants in deep grunts and grips at your ass. Coming down from his own high he gets frustrated, his fingers dipping into your panties without warning. His deft fingers collect all the moisture he created and drag to your clit.

You come in a white flash, falling off the edge. You repeat his name in whiny cries. His hands hurrying to hold you up against his while you collapse into him. Heart racing, the orgasm comes in rippling. Javier holds you, sweat and all. Kissing the top of your head, whispering sweet words of You’re so good, feel so good baby. He keeps you like this for what feels like an eternity, feeling boneless and light when he stands.

He lays you on his bed like a doll. You lay still coming down, chest rising and falling. Still pulsing at the thought of how dirty and depraved the whole thing was. So wrapped in the high and replaying all the shit you’ve always wanted to hear, you flinch when he climbs in bed with a new pair of pants.

“You’re bad.” He groans when he settles into the bed with a creak.

You screw your brows together and turn to him, “Yea says the guy still trying to jump my bones while his dad was outside the room you psycho!” You whisper yell and he laughs that same deep sweet laugh you love.

Javi brings you in closer to him, kissing you a quick chaste one. Blushing at the simpleness of it all. Cuddling in bed with Javier Peña and kissing him for fun, what is my life? “Mmm, take off your panties.”

You scoff.

“Not like that–I’m tapped out, unless you want to.”

“As much as I would love to have you between my legs, I am also tired.” You reach down and slip the soaked thing off, leaning over placing them on his nightstand. He pulls up the comforter over you.

Javier slips his arm over your stomach, thumbing your hip in light circles. “You can put them in my drawer, they're mine now.”

“You're a pervert.” You laugh, pinching his wrist.

“Mmm, when it comes to you? Yeah a bit.”

Red as a cherry you bury your face in his chest, hiding yourself.

Silence passes for a few minutes, just the two of you together. The reality sets in, the hiding begins. But so does being with him, so does working this out so does communicating. “I should probably leave, don't want your dad to catch me.” You whisper and he grumbles an annoyed sound from his chest.

“Dont care, stay here. I’ll sneak you out early in the morning.” He grips you tighter and you smile feeling satisfied. “Tell me about Miami.”

You frown, “What do you want to know?”

“Anything. Tell me about your roommates, classes. I never got to go to college, tell me.”

Kissing his chest again, “You say it like you’re some dropout, you’re like a secret fucking agent.” He groans again, hatong when you talk him up, he gets shy like you. You spare him. “My roommate is cool, party girl. Her name is Delilah, from Arkansas. She was like a real southern-belle, big curly hair and blue eyes. She’s been begging for me to visit since I graduated early. We got along really well but she was annoyed with me often. I never partied.”

Javier’s chest rises, “Why? You used to party a lot in high school, remember when I had to get you from Juniors house at like 2-”

“Oh god don’t remind me I was a mess, case and point. Didn’t have a hot strong brother's best friend to pick up said pieces.”

“Oh shut the fuck up.”

The two of you laugh into each other, it's simple and perfect.

“Besides that, it was an unfulfilling experience but I teach in the fall so it worked out I guess.”

“Ms. Diaz, sexiest teacher to ever step foot in Laredo for sure. If you were my teacher, whew.”

“You need to relax.” You mumble, feeling sleepier in his arms. “What were you reading by the way?”

Javier stirs and lets out another annoyed groan, gripping you tighter. “Some stupid fucking retreat for my office. In New Orleans in June, it's for all the people who are going to Columbia in fall. Stupid shit but its all expenses paid at the Roosevelt.”

Your brows raise, “Fancy, you gonna be flirting up the staff. Chest hair out with Getting your game back on before Columbia.” He scoffs and brings his hand down hard on your behind, eliciting a screech from you. “You’re gonna leave a mark pendejo.”

“Well you have a smart mouth, would rather see you half naked by the pool. I’ll sock anyone who looks at you though,” You shove him, the out of reach thought, fantasy, of maybe going away with him flashes in your eyes. Before you could dwell, he reached down to kiss you again. He mumbles against your lips. “You gave me a hickey so we’re even.”

Your eyes flutter shut, dosing off in the warmth of Javi. In the warmth of someone who’s yours.

Half asleep you mumble, “Why’d you come the second I said the word papi?”

He scoffs tiredly and kisses your head again.

“Shut up.”

#javier peña #javier peña x ofc #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena x you #javier peña smut #ao3 #fanfic #javier peña narcos #javier pena x reader

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allthenamesithinkofaretaken · 1 year

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so if you're accepting requests rn could I ask for headcanons for death x a green witch reader where she uses magic (and plants) to heal and maybe they met when she healed someone that was close to dying (perhaps she can also see spirits and noticed him lingering) and since witches can live way longer than normal mortals I thought that'd be a good match since death won't have to worry about her dying any time soon. Thanks!

An Unlikely Meeting

Surprisingly, not a part of TWaA, but it's a refreshing change though!

That fox was supposed to be dead.

That was Muerte’s first thought when he had appeared somewhere in the woods, sickles at hand and ready to claim another soul yet again after a hunter had set out their traps for these poor creatures.

But apparently, someone has already gotten there first.

It was a witch. Except she wasn’t wearing any of the usual black robes and black hat the other witches normally wore. She didn’t have her broom with her either. All she had in her person were pockets and a small shoulder bag that she had momentarily put down beside her, the top lifted to show the many herbs she had inside.

But the thing was, no amount of herbs and magic would bring a dying life back. So how on earth…?

“Are you going to just stare or do you need my help too?”

“That animal was dying,” he didn’t hesitate to speak up, hiding the shock in his bones at the fact that she could see him. “How did you bring it back?”

“Magic,” she eased the fox upright, helped it walk until it could properly do so all by itself and watched as it ran to somewhere in the bushes, patting her hands together and giving him a grin. “I take it you’re Death?”

He was hesitant to answer, but eventually he did anyway, and she invited him for a walk in the woods.

He should’ve denied, but he was too intrigued to let this go, agreeing to go on that walk where she had explained the nature of her magic.

Since she’s technically not bringing the dead back to life, and is just helping them heal from injuries that might kill them, he isn’t too harsh or too angry to hear about it. The only magic he’ll definitely turn his nose up at is necromancy or anything that might disturb the dead from their peace/ mess with his job.

He definitely enjoys watching her show how her magic works to him, and for her, it was a good change of pace for someone to be interested in her magic rather than trying to drive her away like the rest of the wicked witches, not fully understanding or hearing her out. Despite that, she still heals the people that knock on the door of her home anyway, telling them it would be best not to tell too many people who heals them in fear that they’ll also get endangered.

When Muerte hears of this, he’s a natural at comforting people, and will hold her close if she wants.

Muerte will constantly visit her, since he finds himself feeling some sort of comfort being with someone that isn’t as afraid of him as everybody else was. She was accepting of him, oftentimes letting him eat some of her cooking and whatnot.

Sometimes they meet at a familiar way they had first met, with Muerte about to collect a soul around the part of the forest and he’d find her healing the poor soul already.

They’d bond over the stories of their lives and (Y/n) would share the days she was learning the magic and why she wanted to learn them in the first place and why she didn’t go down the path most witches went, and that’s how he first started to adore her.

She loved life as much as he did, and she enjoyed and saw all the bright things it had the way he did, and he could feel some sort of hope in his chest whenever he looked at her that maybe there were still people out there that appreciated his sister’s creation the way he did. That protected life the way he did.

And since he’s never really felt like this for anyone before, he wouldn’t know how to tell her. So she either does it first or he finds a way to work up the courage and just spit it out.

If she does do it first, he’ll be relieved, disappointed, and happy at the same time. Because yay! She feels the same way! Also, she feels the same way? There’s also the relief that she told him first, but there’s a sadness in not being the first one to do so.

Either way, he’ll wrap her in a tight hug, bury his face in the crook of her neck and just hold her like that the way he wanted to for the longest time.

#puss in boots #puss in boots death #puss in boots death x reader #puss in boots the last wish #death the wolf #death x reader #muerte x reader #pib:tlw #puss in boots the last wish x reader #fanfic #puss in boots the last wish muerte x reader #puss in boots the last wish death #puss in boots the last wish death x reader

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omegamoo · 10 months

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my ask is to tell me more about the whittled pantheon (i am lost and confused so ig this is an infodump request if you want!)

EEEHEHHEHRHEHEHEHEHREHAHRJA. hi! sorry infodumpijgabt the whittled pantheon is truly the best thing ever!!!

you can always find stuff here <- takes you to the explanations tag on my blog w other more coherent worldbuilding rambles! there’s also one specifically about iota but admittedly that one’s a mess haha

and i’m putting this under the cut uhhh yeah i’m soooo normal abt this. this is so long read as much or as little as you please

n e ways. whittled pantheon speedrun. it’s a group project that started with a bunch of my friends fuxking around on minecraft but became so much more. tgm, twig, and i are p much the only ones still working on it as it’s been well over a year, and we plan on making it into a webcomic of sorts! it’s no longer mc at all and rn we don’t have a lot of prose/comics actually written but i’m working on it (a friend was like can i read it and i was like well. haha u can read disconnected shit but…)

ANYWAYS. the story itself centers around eleven gods/demigods :] they’ve been carved (for the most part) by a being named the Carver, who is part of a species that’s supposed to activate life-supporting gods called “failsafes” to each planet, but this one branches out and carves other gods instead.

broadly the story is about the good/bad nature of humanity, love, grief/loss, healing, immortality, moral compasses, and it’s a bit of commentary on the world as we know it today. ha

there are two main planets - the ones where gods are originally carved, and the one they flee to when the first one is ruined. here is a post i made a bit ago about some of the planet/universe worldbuilding if u want details

the story is told by two of the gods mostly in hindsight, but also by snapshots/comics of the gods and writings that they/various mortals left behind. we’re working on sorting out how much will be folk stories and such

also the world has its own language setup, map, regions of trade/climate, seasons/calendar… can you tell we think abt this a lot haha

anyways. the plot is multilayered due to the fact that it started as an mcrp server and now there are many gods doing many things, so uh hmm not going to be giving u a plot synopsis on this post bc that would be a hot mess and too long!! but maybe l8er maybe i’ll make another cast list in a minute tho and u can ask for details idk idk i don’t wanna keep rambling for too long ha. ha

#also hi cup :] ur so cool holy crap #sometimes i go wait omg i’m actually mutuals w this person…#ur an mcytblr Great(tm) to me wowowowee #and now i’m losing my shit abt whittled pantheon in front of u well whatevers haha #whittled pantheon explanations #asks #cupsmp #apologies for the Wall of text #whittled pantheon

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cloudy-rainn · 2 years

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heya! I'm mari hope I could request a matchup for Tokyo Revengers!

my personality is pretty much a mess. I am usually a ambivert and v socially awkward. around the homies or family I am very Talkative,loud,extra, you know just extroverted in general,around new people or randoms I am shy- or just act antisocial. I'd say I can be pretty lazy and get cranky when asked to do something but I'll pull through and do it anyway. I love seeing others smile and when it comes to people's emotions I try to consider how they feel when it comes to comfort. I'm also a pushover,I have such a weakness for when people cry,I go all soft,even if they did me wrong,then I can't help but feel guilty and try to fix it. I sometimes have a negative mind set/thoughts and other times positive,depends,I'm also not too vocal on my feelings and angry at random times (pent up anger from bullying.) Which results in me punching a wall,posting up with the pillow or just giving an attitude. my mbti is esfp and my zodiac is aquarius. I would save my love language is quality time,,just being with the person is enough.

my appearance I have jet black hair (it is dyed lol) that reaches slightly past my shoulders and is very curly but poofy when dry so I usually keep it in a high bun or straighten it. I have dark brown eyes and longish lashes. I Have chubby cheeks nnn and Everytime I eat my folks say I look like a chipmunk- I stuff my mouth. I'm about 5'2-5'3 and my body is curvyish but I'm a little insecure about my chubby stomach :/. I usually wear like hoodies n sweats or skinny jeans , baggy jeans , or sweats. And Shorts around the house since I feel more comfortable doing that and a oversized shirt.

I enjoy learning to play the piano (I can only play like 2 songs.),, Watching anime, documentaries about murders or serial killers, reality tv , killing eve n maybe some cartoonies when I feel like it (I straight up watched author till 4am in the morning.), YouTube etc. I also like to read manga and chill w/ the friends.

btw some of my favorite places are hot topic, McDonald's, chipotle, forever 21 and ofc the love of my life,my room.

I look for someone who is chill and can match my vibe. They trust me and I trust them,type thing. I don't really want someone who is overly clingy, I'd be fine with it,but after a while I'll get sort of annoyed. Also someone who is humorus and can take a joke! Like I could pull a prank or tell them a joke and they wouldn't turn it into something serious. Someone who can appreciate and not be judgmental and someone who can talk to me. Mainly we get along.

hope all this is good!!

ahh thank you, hope you like it <3

i match you with MITSUYA TAKASHI!

•ngl, lowkey jealous of you rn, he’s the epitome of perfect boyfriend.

•definitely childhood friends to lovers.

•because of taking care of his two sisters, he is definitely able to cook up a pretty delicious meal, and he always lets you taste first for approval.

•he can't help but smile when he sees you stuffing your cheeks with food.

•your personal therapist, he is immediately able to tell when you're feeling upset. he will do everything in his power to make you happy.

•expect a lot of homemade gifts, it is his way of showing you love.

•he will protect you at all costs!

•he makes you clothes!! and don’t worry about him judging your body, he loves you from your head to your toes <3

•will stay up late watching reality tv with you. he finds it interesting lmao.

•you’re his princess, which is why he loves kissing the back of your hand, and occasionally your forehead.

•hakkai is lowkey jealous but he supports you two nonetheless.

•in conclusion, you are one very lucky person and you are dearly loved.

#tokyo revengers #anime matchups #tokyo revengers matchup #mitsuya headcanons #mitsuya tr

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lyrker · 1 year

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1 n 3 n 19 n 31 n 50 for the oc asks !!!!

THIS GOT SO LONG IM SO SORRY HAVDJVS

1.First oc ever ?

I’m gonna have to pass this one to good ol’ Leader Decrose. I REFUSE to get into the backstory of how he came about, but in this old world I never dive in anymore, he’s like ? A refuge i suppose ? A set of four characters (including my self insert) were based on cards and his was the diamond.

3.Have you ever adopted a character or gotten a character from someone else ?

Odd situation but I GUESS ?? There’s a few but one I like is named Polaris and they’re like. a dying star. And their big brother figure is Cyrus, aka cc who thought the key to transitioning was dismembering yourself and using dark magic on a lifesize frakenstein doll he made.

They work in a fucked up lab but like, fucked up as in goofy as hell. They’re so silly (:

19.Introduce a character that means a lot to you and why

*SLAMS JACE IN FRONT OF YOU* I love him an insane amount.

Jace Luong was away when the apocalypse striked, lost his daughter thag he blames himself for (but he could never save her anyway), accidentally shot a guy and had to step down from his military position, more for his mental sake than anything, ended up using his best friend, and that last one sounds so bad. and it is. But it is for this Reason that makes me shake him like GRRRR I LOVE YOU. WHY DID YOU DO THAT oh yeah i’m the author loll !!

Because the point of Jace is that. He wants to help so fucking bad but he keeps Messing It Up. He is not evil and I cannot say that enough—he is very “the means justifies the ends” but that does Not mean he doesn’t feel bad for using Noah as a lab rat. When Noah came back to KILL HIM he cried because someone Came Back For Him, even if it was to kill him.

I don’t wanna take up too much space but it’s because he’s not evil just severely fucked up from losing his daughter and the life of being in a world filled with zombies that he’s trying to rush to make some sort of cure, so he can save people, so that people can live again instead of just survive, but he goes about it in a horrible way that, honestly, was probably inevitable.

He’s special to me because he’s a fuck up, but he’s genuinely really really trying. He is not a good person, though.

(also if he was a tma avatar he would be of The Lonely or Eye and that’s so silly)

31.Pick an oc and explain what their Tumblr blog would look like.

I’m going to go with RAYNE because he probably DOES use Tumblr, knowing him. His layout is green but also he’s probably using the Goth/Rave color pallet because he thinks the colors are nice and he’s a 3 am user so that dark mode comes in handy. His pfp is like, his favorite pokémon but with a ditto face.

He reblogs pokemon stuff—screenshots, fanart, memes, etc and he’s Definitely gotten into discourse abt the best game. Also he’s totally a Nightvale listener so throw in some Nightvale posts. I think he reblogs a lot of shitpost art but also just art in general.

And of course, the occasional cat photo and tumblr trademark textposts.

50.Give me the good ol’ oc talk.

I WAS GONNA TALK ABOUT NOAH & CO. BUT I ALWAYS TALK ABOUT THEM so here’s the MoMOF crew, named after the lemon demon song “Mask of my Own Face”

It’s a classic high schoolers sci fi horror story, think stranger things except without mike bc i hate him (did not finish watching stranger things)

Basically, six kids, Rayn, Rowan, Alex, Ash, Zach and Winston are friends ! Yippee ! Average middle/high schoolers.

And one night, Rayn and Rowan (dating) are just hanging out. Rowan is conked the fuck out at Rayn is gaming on his DS, and then he gets a text from Alex saying “Dude, why tf are you outside it’s like 2 am ???” and Rayn is confused outta his mind.

“Wdym i’m literally at home rn.”

Alex attaches a photo, a shot looking thru the blinds of their window of what looks to be Rayn.

Rayn sends a selfie back of the Charmander he just leveled up and Rowan fast asleep.

And it Can’t be him if he just sent that photo, because the beanie he always wears was handmade by Asher himself—whos this guy ?!?

naturally, they text everyone, everyone’s yelling in a vc and was NOT asleep like they should be, and Rayn gets the FANTASTIC idea to go and see who the person is. Alex is yelling that they will personally stab Rayn if he does.

He does anyway.

and they’re too far away now for Alex to see, but they’re watching their phones and when Rayn finally approaches the other Rayn the camera flips and it is missing Half Of It’s Face and then Rayn hangs up.

And they Cannot Find Him.

So for weeks they are searching for Rayn and are scared out of their wits about Why there were Two and they told the police, but they don’t believe them all too much.

But Rowan finds him one night, at the edge of the forest. Half of his face looks tk have been torn away and his hat and coat is gone and he looks run ragged but oh. Oh no.

That’s the real Rayn.

And it turns out, the Rayn they’d been staying with recently was a clone.

And he’s babbling about something, saying they “Can’t trust Winston”

And at the same time, Rowan gets a call. And Zach sounds like he’s running for his life, because Winston cannot talk, let alone sing, and Zach heard them whispering the lyrics to a song he doesn’t know, and ran for it.

So, while they found Rayn, they now don’t know where the real Winston is. And it’s kinda all about not trusting each other but also wanting to stay together because What If Someone Else Gets Taken, and they can’t trust anyone at All because they won’t believe them, and they could be more clones.

Other stuff happens; Ash is going kinda insane, Alex, as the eldest, feels like they have to be the parent of the group because god they’re falling apart and they can’t stand to see it, Zach doesn’t know if the things he’s catching on camera are real or not, and there’s also an almost murder and also arson !! Both by the kids (:

It’s a fun world i like to play around with because the kids dynamics are all super fun <3

#this got so long 💀#jace is my residential wet cat he IS my favorite oc sorry i play favorites #but the MoMOF crew is so silly too (: i don’t indulge in them nearly as much tho #thank you for the ask !!!!!#oc #ocs #oc ask game #yetanotherOCmeme #I FORGOT TO ADD TWS #tw death #tw child death #tw murder #tw mild gore #tw violence

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strawberrymilkgeorge · 3 years

Text

Part Ten. Faces

warnings: swearing, hate comments word count: 4.1k (not including pics)

behind the screen (irl dream x f!reader) series masterlist ultimate masterlist

A/N: sorry its late!!!! this feels rushed but i was just too excited to get to some parts!!! also i have had some parts written out for SO long that they dont even feel cute to me anymore so im literally praying to every deity rn that you guys think its cute lmao anyway enjoy!!!!

**********

It had been about a week since Karl's slip up but everything was already more normal than Y/n had expected it to be. Of course, George, Sapnap and Quackity were all very understanding and gave her space while simultaneously reassuring her that she was safe with them. She fully believed it too, she knew she was safe with them and they weren't going to tell anyone her name.

The one unusual thing was now she had a heavy guilt, like someone dropped another sandbag in her stomach, every time Dream texted her. If the others knew, it was only fair that she tell him her name too, right? I mean, it's Dream. Dream! The boy who had quickly slipped his way into her life and, though she wouldn't admit it to Karl or Naomi, her heart.

But how? Does she just come right out and say it or wait until it gets brought up? She hadn't practiced telling anyone her name because she wasn't planning on doing it any time soon. Though, maybe she should have been seeing as she was going to see them all in person in a little over a month.

Regardless of the guilt, Y/n had other things to worry about today; Quackity was coming to visit. Karl had picked him up from the airport and the two of them spent all day catching up and doing who knows what but Y/n still hadn't met him. She was scared. She wasn't scared of Quackity, but scared because it was the first time one of her online friends would be able to put a face to her name and voice.

Y/n shuffled across her living room rug and reached for her phone on the coffee table, looking for some sort of distraction while she waited for them to arrive.

Y/n rolled her eyes but smiled, shaking her head as she threw her phone on the couch. Okay, he's right. It's gonna be fine. It's gonna be great. It's just Quackity. If he said anything rude or annoying or anything she could literally just step on him like a bug.

A sharp knock on the front door of her apartment snapped her back into reality. She shook her limbs of nervousness as she made her way to the door, two familiar voices begging to be acknowledged from the other side.

"Let us iiinnn!! Y/nnn!!!!" Karl whined.

After countless times asking the same question, she finally convinced Karl that she was okay with him using her real name in front of Quackity. He clearly still felt guilty about telling the boys her name, asking her multiple times in different ways whether he should call her Y/n or Bugsy in front of the guest. She finally got it through his head that she didn't mind either way.

"Hold on!" she yelled back. She unlocked the door and swung it open to see Karl and Quackity. "So impatient."

"Holy shit, you are tall! Goddammit, I thought that was a joke!"

Y/n laughed shyly at the greeting, looking at Quackity like he was crazy. "Hello to you too. Tried to warn you, dude."

"Yeah but, damn! You're tall and attractive, what the hell?"

"Dude," she said with a warning in her voice. She thought the flirting on Twitter was funny, but in real life she got embarrassed easier and wasn't a fan. "I'm about to kick you out of my house before I even let you in."

This was weird, meeting Quackity before meeting some of her other friends. She loved Quackity, but she had known George much longer and Sapnap even before that. There was no problem with meeting Quackity, she just had no idea how to act since she felt like she hardly knew him.

"Am I allowed to tell people that you're hot?" he asked as he fell on her couch, Karl following right after.

"Quackity!" Y/n yelled, her face heating up at a compliment. "Seriously?"

Karl cackled and shoved Quackity. "Shut up, Alex! No, you're not allowed!"

"Sorry, is that compliment reserved for Dream?" He cackled at his own joke and Y/n's face heated up even more.

"I seriously will kick you out of my house."

"You wanna be flirty on main but not in real life?" Quackity scoffed.

"I'm not flirty on main, you are!" she laughed. "Seriously, don't."

"Okay, sorry, I'll stop," Quackity promised with a laugh in his words.

The three of them fell into easy conversation, mostly because Karl and Quackity were already comfortable around each other at this point. They eventually decided to go to the mall, just to mess around and do something.

*reminder: covid doesn't exist in this fic bc we only want happy things so ignore their masks :P*

Y/n frowned as she unlocked her front door, staring at her phone. She had been so happy with all the fans freaking out about the meetup so she looked at the trending list, expecting to see a flood of keyboard smashes and happiness, but that's not all she ended up seeing. BUGKARLITY was trending, so she scrolled through the tweets and was upset to see not all of them were positive. In fact, when she typed her name in the search bar, lots of the tweets using her name were rather mean.

A few that stuck in her head called her an attention whore and said that her friends only flirted with her because she paid them too. Who on earth would even do that? Some hurt way more than others but she tried to push them aside. It wasn't like this was the first time she had seen comments like this, but they had only gotten worse since her Minecraft date with Dream. She was worried it was cause more hate for her friends and the last thing she wanted was to be the cause of their own hate.

She typed several different messages to Dream, deleting them all after she reread them. She felt like she had to request the same thing from him in a different way. Maybe because she felt like his words meant more, even if he really was just joking like the rest of them. She decided to call him instead of texting.

"Hi!" he chirped happily from the other end.

"Hi, Dream," she said as her chest filled with something warm at the sound of his voice. "How are you doing?"

"Good," he dragged out the word. "How are you?"

"Okay."

"Just okay? What's up?"

"Um," she started, immediately forgetting the words she decided she'd use. "I just... would you mind, uh, not flirting with me so much on, like, Twitter and streams and stuff like that?"

There was a silence before Dream's frantically apologetic words came through. "Yes, of course, oh my gosh. I'm so sorry. If I had known I was making you uncomfortable, I wouldn't have—"

"Wait, no," she interrupted but he must not have heard.

"—said things like... oh gosh. Bug, I'm really sorry—"

"Dream!" she raised her voice, getting him to stop ranting. "You don't make me uncomfortable."

"Oh. Really?"

"Of course not. I actually think it's really..." Cute? Adorable? Endearing? "funny," she decided.

"Oh. Then why...?"

She sighed heavily and explained what she told the others. "So, yeah. I just don't want you guys getting hate because of me so I figure if you stop then... you know."

"Bug..." he said gently. "I'm really sorry. I promise you that I don't—none of us think those things about you."

"I know."

"No, seriously," he said, clearly not believing her. "You need to understand that I..." he paused. "I mean what I say. Always."

Always? she thought. There's a few things he's said that certainly he didn't really mean... like calling her cute?

"I don't joke around like that unless I want to. I wouldn't say things like I say to you unless I really, really, genuinely considered you a close friend and felt comfortable around you. And I do."

Her heart swelled. "Thanks, Dream. I just... maybe don't do it so much for right now? Online, at least," she clarified, not wanting to deprive herself completely of Dream's flirting.

"Yeah, if that's what you want, of course."

"Well, I don't want you to stop flirting with me but, yeah."

He chuckled. "Oh, you do like when I flirt with you?"

She hummed and changed the subject. "Did I interrupt you doing anything?"

"No," his teasing voice dropped and was back to his regular self. "I'm just editing the video we filmed the other day."

"Oh, the 'Minecraft, but you can't touch the floor'?" she asked.

"Yeah."

"Oh," she said, not meaning to sound disappointed. "I'll let you get back to it—"

"No. I mean, you can stay on the phone. Unless you're busy."

She smiled and put her phone on speaker and set it next to her foot on the floor. "I was just gonna paint. So I can stay."

Before she knew it, almost two hours had passed of them sitting in comfortable silence, occasionally speaking to share something with the other before going back to their tasks. It was comforting knowing she didn’t need to speak constantly and could just hang out with Dream.

Y/n's phone rested on the floor next to her, Dream on speakerphone on the other end, only the sounds of his keyboard clicking letting her know he hadn't fallen asleep or hung up. She wasn't sure when they started doing this, staying on the phone even when they had nothing to talk about, but they had done it a few times before. They had talked on the phone and Discord many times but it was usually always with purpose, not usually this silently-enjoying-each-others-presence nonsense. Who was she kidding calling it nonsense, she enjoyed it an embarrassingly insane amount.

She repositioned so she was laying on her stomach as she finished sketching an image that was in her mind.

"Hey, you still there?" Dream asked softly.

"Yeah. Sorry, am I taking away from your sitting in silence time with George?" she joked.

Dream chuckled lightly. "Nah, you're more fun. I was just seeing if you ditched me for Karl yet."

"Nah, you're more fun," she mimed truthfully. "But I'm very focused on this drawing."

"Can I see it when you're done?"

"Don't expect too much. It looks bad."

"If you don't tell me what it is, I can't know how accurate or inaccurate it is."

"Very true..." she trailed off, holding the canvas further away to examine it all at once. She wanted the sketch to be perfect before she made permanent choices with paint. She enjoyed the serenity they maintained even when talking, voices low and delicate like they were keeping secrets but not quite whispering. "Are you almost done editing your video from the other day?"

"Sorta. I'm at the part where you and Sapnap almost died laughing because a ghast knocked George into lava and then Sapnap laughed so hard he fell into lava."

She chuckled, remembering the situation vividly. "That was so funny. The way George screams is so funny."

"Let Naomi know that," he mumbled, causing Y/n to gasp.

"Dream!" she laughed loudly and he joined.

"Sorry, sorry, sorry. It's true though."

"Disgusting!"

A distant voice sounded on the other end and she assumed it was Sapnap. "What do you want for dinner?"

Dream responded with a soft, "Nothing, I'm good."

"Are you talking to Bugsy?"

He must have responded physically because the next sound was Sapnap's very clear, much more lively voice speaking directly into the phone. "Hi, Bugsy!"

"Hi, Sapnap!"

"Can you tell Dream to eat some damn food? This man literally hasn't eaten a single thing all goddamn day."

"Dream," Y/n scolded slowly. "Please eat."

"I'm not hungry."

"I'm not showing you my painting until you eat."

A door closed on the other end and she took that as a sign that Sapnap had left.

"I don't wanna see it anyway. It's probably trash."

"Take that back!" she gasped lightly. She looked at the canvas as she grabbed the first paint color and laughed. It was only a sketch and it was already trash. "Fine, then I won't go on the trip if you don't eat in the next ten minutes."

"That's punishing yourself too though."

"Who says I want to see you?" she asked.

"I never said anything about not seeing me being the punishment."

She had been caught. "It was implied."

"Sure it was."

"It's true though. Who says I wanna see your stupid face?"

He didn't say anything, but an incoming FaceTime call lit up Y/n's phone. A FaceTime call from him.

Her smile dropped. "Clay?"

"Answer it," his voice was lower and her heart started beating faster. Was he really about to show her his face to prove a point? Reveal his biggest secret that only a few close friends knew? To her of all people? She made sure she couldn't be seen in the small window and pressed accept, the voice call ending and the FaceTime call starting.

To her surprise, what came into view wasn't his face, but the logo of the hoodie he was wearing, the simple smile of his merch taunting her. She laughed, the anxiety slowly fading away as it was replaced with a heavy feeling in her stomach. Was she disappointed? Maybe a little, but he teased her into believing she would see him.

"Oh, wow! Dream face reveal! He looks just like his icon, no way!!!"

His chest moved up and down as he laughed, not moving the camera away. "You heard it here first, guys! You've known my face all along, the logo is actually my face!"

She laughed and returned to painting, not paying any more attention to her phone since he was now also showing his ceiling, a small corner of his monitor in frame but nothing else. "I mean it though, if you don't eat, I'm going to be so mad I won't even want to be friends anymore. Or you'll die from malnourishment before we get the chance to meet."

"I doubt it. I'm just not hungry."

"Whatever."

"Oh, hey, so you met Quackity today. How was it?"

"Very scary."

"Yeah?" he asked sympathetically, urging her to explain if she wanted.

"Yeah. But it turned out okay! He didn't act any different so it was fine. It was mostly just awkward. He's also so freaking loud. You would not believe how much louder he and Karl get when they're together."

"I can imagine. Aren't they doing a stream right now or something?"

"Yeah, I think so. I don't wanna watch though, I've had enough of them for the month."

Dream laughed. "How will you deal with them together for New Years'? It'll be for like two weeks."

"Who knows if I'll actually go?"

"Wait, what?" he asked abruptly, not even bothering to hide the disappointment in his voice. His keyboard stopped clicking and she could picture him staring at his phone as if looking at her. "Of course you're going."

"Not if you don't eat food! You have, like, 3 minutes to eat something until I officially am busy doing other things whenever the trip is."

Dream groaned and clicked a few things on his computer before the image on the screen became blurry as he walked through the house, still pointing it at the ceiling. She looked away again and kept painting.

"Quackity's really funny though," she continued. "It was super awkward at first but it was fun to have someone else to help me make fun of Karl."

"Wait, Bug," Dream called out over the sound of wrappers crinkling.

"Hm?" She hummed, continuing to paint.

"Bug," his voice was much softer and he sounded nervous.

She looked at her screen and dropped the paintbrush as she focused on what she saw, grabbing her phone and holding it closer to her face so she could see, still making sure she wasn't in view. All the anxiety from the beginning of the FaceTime suddenly came back and hit her like a truck. Sitting on her screen, waiting to be seen, was Dream. His hood was up, tufts of blonde hair sticking out, and he was standing with his back towards a dark room, the dim light from his pantry making his face just visible.

He held up a cookie in front of his actual, real face. "Are you watching?"

"Y-yea... I... Yeah. I'm watching. Is that really you?"

He nodded once before shoving the cookie in his mouth. "There, I consumed food," he announced, his voice muffled by the cookie. "Now you're legally obligated to come."

"I—What? CLAY! WHAT?"

"What?" he asked innocently as he chewed, walking back to his room and still holding the phone up to show his face. His room light was on, making his face much more visible. If Y/n thought he was attractive in the harsh pantry light, he must have looked like a god in his room lighting, even as pixelated as he was due to the quality of FaceTime. He fell on his bed and Y/n could only gape at his features. He slumped against his headboard, surrounded by roughly a thousand pillows, sporting a small, shy smile as he stared at the screen. "Bug, what?"

She opened her mouth but no words came out. Needless to say, he was unbelievably handsome. Part of the speechlessness was from the shock that he showed his face out of the blue, but obviously, the majority of it was that he was pretty much the most attractive person she'd ever seen. It should be illegal for someone to look that good in a hoodie, especially when pixelated.

"Hmm," he hummed thoughtfully. "Wanna take back what you said earlier?" He bit into another cookie.

"W-what did I say earlier?" Why was she stuttering???

"You said you don't wanna see me and that I'm ugly," he teased.

She paused for too many seconds too long before finally muttering, "you arrogant son of a bitch." He laughed loudly at that.

His eyes crinkled and he threw his head back. So that's what he looks like when he wheezes, she thought to herself, pretty.

Dream shuffled his position on his bed and rested his head on one of his hands. He looked so comfy. "Why are you so quiet, weirdo?" he mumbled.

She set her phone back down and touched her cheeks with her hands and looked away for a moment, grounding herself to the real world for a second. She couldn't process her thoughts when she was staring at a man as gorgeous as Clay. "I don't know, maybe because you gave me no warning before showing me your face? Or because you failed to mention that you're incredibly hot?"

She was so glad she had looked back at her phone or else she would have missed the glorious sight of his cheeks turning bright red before he turned the camera back to his ceiling. "Oh my gosh."

"Aw cute, I made you blush."

"Shut up," he mumbled. "You threatened to not come if I didn't eat something!"

"You didn't have to—you showed me your freaking face just to prove you ate a cookie!! DREAM! I would have believed you if you just said you ate something!" she laughed breathlessly, staring at the phone now for a chance to see him again. "I was joking anyway!"

"Sure you were."

"I was."

"Well, oh well. You deserved to see me anyway."

"Oh, I deserve to see you?" She laughed. "How big is your ego?"

"You know what I meant," he groaned. "You got doxxed by Karl and you met Quackity in person. And you've clearly had a bad day because of all the hate and stuff. You've done a lot of stressful things recently and you deserved to be let in on a secret too."

He was so sweet. Like, tooth-rotting, Halloween candy stash hidden under a kid's bed, upset tummy sweet. She also couldn't get over the fact that he was a million times cuter when he was shy like he was being now, his voice soft and unsure. It contrasted vastly with the confident, loud-mouthed Dream everyone usually saw, though she liked that Dream too. She wished he could show his face for just one more second to see what he looked like shy. Probably sickeningly adorable.

This was it, wasn't it? The chance she had been waiting for to tell him her name? He just let her in on his biggest secret, now he was the one deserving to be let in.

"Y/n," she said with a confident, but soft voice.

There was a long pause. "W-what?"

"Y/n."

He understood the second time immediately. "Y/n..." he tested, the smile in his voice clear as day. "I like it."

"Yeah, well, I guess you deserved to know the secret too."

"I would have been content never knowing."

"Really?" She didn't believe him. He seemed like the type to never be satisfied, always looking for something better. Not in a greedy way, but in a motivational, goal-oriented big achiever way.

"Really," he hummed. "I already feel like you're too good to be true so I wouldn't be surprised if you weren't a real person."

It was silent as she tried to collect her thoughts.

"Bug? You okay?"

"Yeah, I... it's just a lot."

"Sorry."

"No, it's not you. Well... I don't know. I just don't know what I'm supposed to say when you say things like that," she admitted.

He paused. "I think you always have the perfect responses when I say things like that."

"What do I usually say?" She smiled shyly, pulling her hoodie up to her lips.

"You usually call me a nerd or say you can't stand me. 'Oh my gosh I cannot stand you'," he mimicked before laughing.

"What? How is that the perfect response to you saying you can't believe I'm real?"

He hummed and she could practically hear him shrugging. "Because it's a classic Bug response. It's a hundred perfect you. So yeah, it's perfect."

She was silent, trying to compose herself before she exploded.

"By the way, check Twitter."

"Why, are you bragging about me calling you hot?" she teased, hoping to make him blush like she had earlier. It worked.

"Oh my gosh, no. Just look."

She clicked her home button and navigated to the app, her feed instantly flooding with the same similar messages.

"Oh, my gosh," she muttered, her fingers flying away as she typed out her own tweet in response to the love.

Dream chuckled from the other end and when she asked him why, he vaguely said that George texted him but didn't explain further.

"Um, I have to go," she said mournfully. "Karl and Quackity are coming over again."

"Booooo," he pouted.

"Sorry, you aren't the only man in my life," she teased before instantly regretting her choice of words. Too flirty, Y/n, she thought to herself.

"Hm, shame. Am I at least at the top of the list?"

She bit her lips, wanting desperately to repeat what she had told him on their Minecraft date. In the end, she gave in. "I always mean what I say too," she started. "You're my main bitch, baby."

Dream made some sort of sound, a mix of a scoff and a whine but Y/n didn't comment on it, just glowing with heat in her cheeks.

"Leave before I don't let you," he said softly and the heat only grew.

"Goodnight, Dream," she pressed, the tone in her voice letting him know he was being a tease. "Thanks for... thanks for your tweet. And for everything you said earlier."

"Of course. Sorry that you have to see those kinds of things a lot."

"It's okay when I have people like you."

"People like me? What does that mean?"

"Just.... people like you." Cute, sweet, kind, genuine people who make her heart flutter.

She could hear his smile in his words and she figured he knew the unspoken words in her thoughts, the ones she was saying without saying. "Okay. Goodnight, Y/n."

"Goodnight."

**********

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#dream x reader #dreamwastaken x reader #dreamwastaken x you #dream x y/n #dreamwastaken x y/n #mcyt x reader #mcyt x y/n #mcyt fanfiction #smau #social media au #dreamwastaken smau #rpf #real person fiction

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dark-rainbows · 3 years

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A/N: Okay so not me writing this dark mess rn, EDIT: its now the morning im jist finally finsishing this. This wasn't supposed to be like almost a full one shot but it turned out to be my bad I know it's probably really long to read right now and there may even be a few errors but ignore that and just read it for the dark content❤

Pairing: Jotaro x Reader

Warning: fucking abuse, obsession(???), abusive love (???), and other messed up stuff, mention of r/ape, dark stuff here

There was something about you that he couldnt resist. Jotao wasnt sure if it was your hair, the way you talked, the way you walked, maybe your smell? He wasnt sure what it was, but he surly did want to beat the living shit out of you for it.

With people he waned to fight or just beat up, he wouldnt stalk or follow them around, but with you it was different. Since he didnt ever go to class, he would just follow you around school seeing the places you would go and meet your friends and the places where would hang around at.

You two met eachother before but only briefly or accidently bumping into one a other through the halls. Those interactions only just got him riled up, he didnt hate you no..he just wanted to hurt you.

One day while you were at the library, further back away from the librarian desk, jotaro snuck in through the near exit window. He didnt want to be seen as he snuck his way through the library where he spotted you alone with moutains of book around you. Jotaro groaned at the sight of you, fuck..he was going to ruin you.

Just the thought of laying a hand on you got him was getting him hard, these sorts of thoughts never happened till you came into his life. He walked slow, making his way up towards you as you had your face deep into a book when he stood by you. You looked up as you noticed a giant shadow looming over you and the books, a smiled appeared on your lips as you instantly knew who it was.

His eyes staring deep into yours, fist clenched within his pockets and face expressionless.

"Hey Jotaro! What brings you her-" he didnt give you time to finish as his right had left his pocket and was already placed on you throat, his huge fingers tighten around your air ways making it hard for to speak. You panicked and immediately grabed at his wrist to released you.

Your chair fell over and your whole body was slammmed againt the bookcase, some falling and other shaking by the force. You choked and gasped as Jotaro brought you up higher off the floor. You felt a wave emotions come over, You didnt know what was happening.

Jotaro's other hand came onto the side of your stomach, lifting it up to where you can see your bra. Fuck, he was getting hard by the sight of you struggling in front of him. His fingers rubbed against your side feeling the warm to the touch and utter softness of it, you had alittle bit of fat which had him watering in the mouth. He was going to come in his school pants if he kept this up.

"P-pl-pleassse! D-don-dont hu-hu-hurt me", tears prickled from your eyes, daring to fall down your cheeks. You had no idea what was going on, you thought jotaro was cool and you two were on some form of good terms as he didnt mess with you or your friends. Why was he doing this?

He groaned and looked up at you. "Fuck, [Y/N]..can you be any more cuter right now?" His cheeks rising with a soft rose pink and eyes slightly dilated. He was getting high off his excitement with his mouth panting and him licking his lips.

Your eyes widen at the response, what the hell was happening? You swayed and kicked at the man hoping for him to let go or untighten his grip around your so you can make a run for it. You made mental prayers, hoping for whatever god was out there to save you out of this sickening nightmare.

Sadly, your prayers came to no one and jotaro had tighten his fist and just with one quick strike, his fist was in your side. Your bofy erupted with flaming pain feeling it crawl all over you, even tingling at your spinal cord as it stuck deep in your body. The force was so strong that even the bookcase behind you rocked a bit.

You tried to make a sound that was combined with a gasp but was cut short as Jotaro's hand was so tightly wrapped around your throat that it left you unable to speak. All you can do at the moment was just bite down on your lip, officially feeling your tears run down your face and your hands weaken on jotaro's wrist after the impact.

Jotaro's heart began to race faster, as he took a look at your wet face and was feeling even more infatuated by you, this never happened with him with anyone in his life; This was doing Something to his. He had a few more hits and maybe a Kick left for you before wanting to take you outside behind the the school building around the grassy parts and have you feel what he truly thinks of you.

Those plans was quickly cut short as sounds of footsteps we're coming close to where you two were located. It was probably the Liberian coming by to see what the noise was about. Jotaro looked at you, for some reason hoping to find an answer but only finding your face filled with fear and pain. He took a mental shot of your face so he can remember it for later.

He huffed out a quick 'see you around' before dropping you and walking out of area with his hands tucked back into his coat, before the the librarian could walk in.

You couldn't even speak but luckily breathe again with alot of coughing behind it. You couldnt even stand as the pain was going down your hip muscle and thigh. Tears still fell as the Liberian came to check on you only to find you crumbled on the floor, hand your throat and head down.

After being released from the nurse's office hours later, you walked over to your locker hand pressing down on a ice pack where jotaro had punched you. It would be weeks maybe a month fornthe pain to fully go away

You stop to find you locker filled with roses from the inside and out. Complete confusion Came Upon you as you came closer to it seeing that there was a note sticking out of the door, you grabbed it and thinking it was a friend who may have heard about the situation and opened it to read it.

It wrote,

'Im not the best with approaching people-'

You froze, the hours before were filling back to you as you knew who this was from.

'But, you been on my mind all semester and I wish I had done this alittle better, alittle more private-' your gut felt twisted and your head dizzy, at what he couldve done to you if you two were completely alone and not in the library.

'but Hopefully next time when we see eachother, down the hall, around the cafeteria, next to the workshop, or again in the library I can try and introduce myself more better. And maybe you can let me add afew more bruises on you'.

Signed, Jotaro Cujoh.

You dropped the letter and collapse to the hallway floor.

#jotaro cujoh #jotaro x you #jotaro x reader #jojo x reader #jojo #jjba #jojo bizarre adventure #yandere jotaro #rainbow writes

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problematicfavesareproblematic · 3 years

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NSFW Alphabet- Joe Toye

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Ok, so here’s the 411- Joe gives it his all when y’all are fucking. He’s flipping you around into different positions, he’s gripping whatever part of your body he can get his hands so he can reach deeper faster harder better, Joe is fully prepared to do all the work.

That being said, the boy’s EXHAUSTED by the time he’s done with you. You’re lucky if he doesn’t collapse on you in a sweaty, sleepy mess. But after he’s had a second to regroup and rally- he’s totally down for some pillow talk.

WARNING: it’s going to be in that sexy husky voice of his, which means round two is imminent.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Ok, so our Joe’s hot. Like, really hot. He is fully aware of how good he looks- sometimes to the point of arrogance. If he had to pick just one part of himself, it’d probably be his arms. He likes knowing that he can always fight his way out of a sticky situation, but what he really likes is how your hands feel when they clutch at his biceps while getting sexy. (He also really gets soft when you run your fingers up and down his arms/forearms while sitting around and talking with the guys shh shh shh)

On you? Your hands- this boy never thought of hands being sexy until he watched yours dance across a map while discussing plans of action. His eyes followed their motions like a moth follows a flame- and when they touched HIS HAND for the first time? Boner city. Population: this guy.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

MESSY BOY. OH MY GOD.

He’s BIG into marking you, and if you gave him the ok (he always checks first) he’d gladly paint you in it (he gets very caveman when it comes to marking you as his ffs what a horndog).

But if you aren’t into that? Not a problem. Simply seeing his cum on your hands (which we’ve established he’s super into) is enough for him. Inside of you works too, FYI. He’s very accommodating.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He once secretly got off in class while watching you disassemble and reassemble your rifle. Your fingers moved so fast and confidently that he couldn’t help but wonder what ~other~ confident things they could do (his mind instantly pictured you fingering yourself and he’s only a little bit sorry about how depraved he is). He’d kneaded the heel of his hand against his cock under the table and to this day he has no idea how he wasn’t caught.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Experienced is a good way to describe Joe, bc in cruder company he’d be called a fuckboy. He’s had more partners than the average Joe (lol sorry) but not nearly as many as someone like Tab or Nix or Liebgott have had. He just lived a full-ass life and, due to him being a stud, he’s never been wanting for company.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Anything with him on top is his comfort zone. He likes feeling in control, and he really likes being able to see how good he’s making you feel.

Bonus points if he can grip your neck a lil bit.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Joe is goofy in the sense that he likes to tease you, maybe antagonize you a lil. He knows that you get off on it- that you like when he points out how good he’s making you feel, or lightly chastising you for how quickly you’re going to cum. He doesn’t mean it, and if you were ever to tell him to back off he’d be totally down.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Dark, curly, trimmed but not ~groomed~, you know?

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Personally, He seeks to establish intimacy during the afterglow, curling around you once the sweat has cooled and your breathing has evened out. Face touches, greedy but sweet kisses? Joe Toye’s your guy.

HOWEVER!: If he thinks you could use some during the act, he’s game. If you ask for it? HE’S WHATEVER MORE THAN BEING GAME IS. Get over here, hot stuff.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He does it whenever he feels the urge. It’s not a huge deal for him.

He’d prefer sex with you obviously, but if you’re not feeling it or it’s not a good time then he’ll take care of himself. In a perfect world, you could both do some mutual masturbation. He absolutely thinks of you while he does it, tho.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Choking kink. Wow wow wow. Nothing extreme- he doesn’t feel comfortable cutting off your airflow or anything, but a hand around the throat certainly adds a nice primitiveness to the experience.

If you choke him, however: different story.

Joe finds that EXTREMELY hot. Oh my God. It plays into his weird obsession with your hands/touch. It reminds him that you’re just as into him as he is with you, and he is a big fan of you getting a lil rough with him now and again.

Pin him down by his throat as you ride him? He’s done for.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Any time, anywhere- as long as he can be sure that you won’t be interrupted. There are exceptions to this (see Risk).

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Little touches from you can really get him going. Lacing your fingers with his as you both ride in a truck from location to location. Your eyes finding his as you talk business with someone else. The gentle scratch of your fingernails through the shorter hairs at the base of his skull. You also get a certain look in your eyes when you’re feeling frisky, and the moment he sees that, sexy with you is all that he can think about.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Doing anything to you that leaves more than a bruise. Hickeys? Awesome. Speckles of bruises on your hips from where his fingertips dug into your skin a bit too hard? Hot.

Deep shadows around your throat left behind from him holding you a little too hard? NO NO NOPE THAT’S NOT OKAY.

It reminds him too much of violence, of someone trying to escape the touch of another and being denied freedom. Once, a German soldier had tried to choke you out so you wouldn’t alert anyone of his presence and Joe. Fucking. Lost it. His brass knuckles were nearly fused to his skin by the time Joe was done with them.

Tl;dr- deep marks on his girl? He’ll kick someone's ass. He’ll kick my ass. He’ll kick his own ass

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He’s a fan of both! When he’s going down on you, he’s all about results- what will get you off the quickest and hardest. Overstimulation King (but in a good way).

When you go down on him and make a point to draw the process out as long as you possibly can, he just about cries with need. He’ll beg you to give him more so he can finally cum, but secretly he’s hoping that you’ll keep edging him bc dear god you’re so beautiful and evil and wow your nails scratching down his stomach feels good.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

FAST. Like I said before, he’s all for getting you off quick and hard. He likes the feeling of his muscles trembling with exhaustion as he pistons into you with ruthless speed, likes the way it makes your body shake and bounce and sheen with sweat. He really likes being able to just fall asleep with you afterwards, so his goal is to tire out the both of you.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Ok, so here’s the thing- before you, most of his sexual history could be considered quickies. He didn’t like the idea of lingering too long after doing the do, so a quick fuck in the closet of a bar was his bread and butter. Remember: the quicker the better.

But since you, he’s decided that he’s good with both quickies and...slowies(?). If he’s feeling frisky while you both are out or just about to go out or in any sort of time crunch, he lets you know by coming up to stand behind you and wrapping his arms around your torso, gently pulling you back until you can feel his hardening cock against your backside.

If you rest one of your hands on his forearm and squeeze it- then you’re not feeling it rn and he backs off (or excuses himself to take care of it bc he’s practical like that). If you lean back into him or turn your head to the side so he can kiss your cheek- it’s go time. Meet him in the bathroom, bc someone’s about to get their world rocked.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

JOe is fine with public sex as long as he knows/can predict who or what could possibly figure out what the two of you are doing. And even then, it’s going to be sneaky. You sitting on his lap with his dick in your pussy? Nice. pretending to lean over and whisper something to you while sitting at a booth (but actually fingering you? Dope.

He’ll basically go as far as you let him, but his big thing is not letting the two of you get caught by someone who will hold it over your ehad. Do’t fuck with his girl.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Two and a half rounds- he always starts with getting you off with his hands, thigh, tongue (that’s the half round), then he cranks out the next two fast and unwaveringly. Ideally, the outcome for him is two orgasms for him and three for you. Bonus points if he can wring four out of you, but he’s not going to push it.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Probably didn’t own any of his own, but if you have a vibrator or something he’ll definitely use it on you. Would probably consider letting you use it on him, but only once he’s used it on you a couple times.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Not very much in terms of edging teasing, but verbally he can be very antagonistic.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Loud and proud, but tries to keep the sounds in for as long as he can. You can always tell when he’s close by how vocal he’ll become. Huge whiner whenever you suck his cock or give him a handjob, bc you are so perfect and wicked that it literally overwhelms him.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Has at least one copy of the Kama Sutra. Bill gave it to him as a joke gift but Joe absolutely uses it for inspiration.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Average length but girthy. He’s pretty proud of it.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Pretty high, but something he can control. He knows it’s unrealistic to be able to fuck you whenever he wants (bc otherwise, you’d never leave his bed), so he’s able to channel that desire into anticipation for the next time he gets the chance to fuck you.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

SO FAST, OH MY GOD. But he doesn’t sleep long- it’s more like a power nap and then he wakes up and helps you clean up/cleans you up himself and then gets cuddly. Then he sleeps again. What a nerd.

~ ~ ~

taglist: @sunsetmando @ricksmorty @now-im-a-belieber @tvserie-s-world @holdingforgeneralhugs @mrseasycompany @itswormtrain @mrsalwayswrite @happyveday

#band of brothers imagines #band of brothers x reader #joe toye x reader #joe toye imagines #problematicfavesareproblematic

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yayeetsonny · 3 years

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Always Tell The Truth Part 2 ~ USWNT x Reader

Okay so if you haven’t read the first part of this, which I will put here. Always tell the truth part 1 I suggest you do that, otherwise this one will make no sense. Also sorry... again for being gone so long. I hope you guys didn’t miss me too much. :)

-N

Previously...

“Those bruises, Y/N, where’d you get them?”

“I. Don’t. Know.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Fine then, don’t believe me. First Alex, then Christen and now you. This is just great, my teammates think I’m a liar. Well I’m not and I’m telling you the truth.”

I brushed by her and stormed out of the room, now determined to avoid my teammates so they’d stop asking questions and questioning my honesty.

“I’m not a liar. I don’t know where I got the bruises, I don’t know why they won’t believe me.”

Present

After I stormed out of the room I share with Ali I ran... yes literally ran out of the hotel and out into the street. Well okay it was more like the sidewalk but whatever, I’m going for dramatic story telling here. I was angry, hurt and confused as to why my teammates couldn’t just believe me. I’ve never lied to them before, not ever. If something was going on I would have told them. And I genuinely have no clue where these bruises came from, I don’t remember hurting myself badly in practices or games and I don’t do any other crazy activities that would warrant the sudden appearance of severe looking injuries. I knew I just needed to clear my head so I started walking in a random direction hoping to get my thoughts together.

After a while I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket and knew it was probably one of my teammates looking for me so I ignored it. My phone stopped ringing only for a short time before it stared up again. This went on for several long minutes before it finally stopped. After each attempt from whoever was trying reach me there was a separate single vibrate indicating they left a message. I felt a little guilty for disappearing and probably worrying everyone but they shouldn’t have assumed or accused me of lying. Thinking they finally got the message that I didn’t want to speak to them I continued walking god knows where trying to think of what to say when I finally decided to go back. I was really deep in thought, trying to remember if and when I got the bruises. Obviously they don’t just appear like magic. They have to be caused by something, but... what? All the sudden I was hit with a vague memory

“Huh?... Wha- where am I?”

“You fell asleep on the couch dear. Don’t you remember? It was really adorable actually. My mom said super sweetly.

That’s weird, she’s never overly sweet with me, like ever.

“No, I don’t remember doing that.”

I looked around and the tv was on, which is also rare. It was playing a random comedy movie. Comedy? My parents don’t even like comedy movies.

“Oh well you did. Right after dinner, you dragged your feet over to the couch and was out like a light before we knew it.” She said casually.

My dad waltzed in like everything was totally normal. What the fuck is going on. Why don’t I even remember eating dinner? How long have I been here? Why does my body hurt so much?

I came back to the present feeling slightly uneasy. I remembered now a little bit of what happened when I got to my parents house and a little bit of what happened after I woke up from my nap. They managed to convince me everything was fine after that and I left assuming they were telling me the truth because I was too tired and too annoyed to argue. But the more I thought about it the more I wondered just how much of what they said is true. Why were there huge gaps in my time with them? And why do I get the feeling that the weird gut feeling I have isn’t a coincidence? I got lost in thought again but it was peaceful this time and quiet which I was relishing in.

Unfortunately the peace and quiet only lasted for a few minutes when I started to get what I assumed were dozens of texts. I finally got fed up and decided to silence my phone completely. When I unlocked it I saw a glimpse of some of the worried texts from the team. They all pretty much said the same thing;

“Y/N please come back. I’m sorry for saying I didn’t believe you. I’m just concerned about you. I want to talk and I’ll listen to whatever you have to say. Just please come back.”- Ali

“Hey kid, heard what happened. Wanna talk?”- T

“Y/n where are you? I heard what happened and that you left?? please come back, we’re worried.”- Christen

“Bruh what the hell? let’s talk?”- Ash

“where r u?”- Mal

“It’s not safe for you to be out by yourself. Ali told us about the other bruises. Whatever this is we’ll help you. We’re gonna start searching for you if you don’t get your ass back here soon. We love you.”- Alex

And it went on like that as every single member of the team texted me some variation of that and the voicemails they all left were much the same. I started to feel more guilty but let my anger keep me from replying to them. They can stew a little longer.

Meanwhile back at the Hotel...

CHRISTEN PRO//

“Okay, so tell us exactly what happened.”

“I saw the bruises when she was changing, which I happened to walk in on. I don’t think she was expecting me. I asked her what happened and she said that nothing had happened and I asked her about the bruises I saw on her arm, shoulder and spine and she continued to tell me she has no idea where they came from. I told her I didn’t believe her and then she got upset and she just... left.”

“Just like that? She didn’t say where she was going?”

“No, she was so angry she just stormed out and when I tried to follow after her she was already gone.”

“And she’s still not answering her phone. Damnit kid come on, where are you?”

“She’s not safe out there on her own, we have to go look for her.”

“And how are we supposed to find her when she doesn’t have her location on and is doing everything she can’t to ignore us?”

“I have no idea but we have to try.”

“We will, but we should give her a little more time. It’s possible she’s just around the corner cooling off. She’ll come back when she’s ready.”

“You’re right.”

“Guys I hate to steer us back into more serious topics but shouldn’t we be talking about the bruises she has that started all of this?”

“What do you guys think they’re from?” Megan asked.

“I want to believe her when she says she doesn’t know but I mean how can you just not know about bruises as severe as those?” Ash said.

“I mean... I’ve had some pretty bad ones I don’t remember getting from anywhere.” Mal said off-handily.

I saw some of the rest of the team nod silently, indicating that they too had, had the same thing happen to them. And I had to admit that I had my fair share of bumps and bruises that I couldn’t explain because they just seemed to appear but I was still concerned for our youngest teammate as it was getting pretty late and it was already dark outside.

“Oh god, you don’t think it’s her parents do you?” Tobin asked no one in particular.

We all paused for a moment to process what she was implying and I know we were silently hoping, praying that they wouldn’t do that to her. That they wouldn’t beat their own child.

“No, there’s no way. She’s told us that they love and support her and that even though they aren’t around much they still care about her.”

“Right, you’re right.”

“It has to be them though, I mean there’s no other explanation. She didn’t have them before or after practice right?” Alex asked.

“No, she didn’t.” Lindsey said solemnly.

“Do you really think parents can just flip a switch? Just like that? Be caring and supportive one minute and violent then next?”

“It’s possible.”

“No, just don’t even go there. I refuse to believe they would do that.”

“We would have seen the bruises if she had them before, since we all change in the same locker room together for practices and games remember?” I said

“Fuck. When I get my hands on them I swear to god...”

She didn’t get to finish her sentence because Y/n walked into the dining hall where we were all gathered.

“Get your hands on who?” She asked quietly

“Kid...”

“Y/n holy shit, thank god.”

“And she lives!... not the time? Got it.”

“Y/N... we need to talk.”

“Why? There’s nothing to talk about. I don’t know what Ali told you, but I don’t know where these fucking bruises came from okay? I don’t know. I’m sorry, I know that probably isn’t what you wanted to hear but it’s the truth. If you don’t believe me that’s fine but i’m not talking about it anymore.”

“Sweetie please just hear us out okay? We’re worried about you and getting defensive about them isn’t helping your case.” I said, trying to reach out for her but she backed away from me.

“Defensive? I’m just upset because you all still don’t seem to get it.”

“We want to get it, please just talk to us.”

“No.”

“Y/N, please just...”

“No! Okay, just no. I said we weren’t talking about it again and that’s final. What happened to “I’ll listen to whatever you have to say.” Huh, Ali? Good to know that was complete bullshit.”

“I’m sorry baby, please believe me, we just...”

“Oh believe you? For what? You clearly still don’t believe me so why should I give you that courtesy? You know what, this is all just fucking stupid anyways. I’m going to bed. Goodnight.”

And with that she disappeared up to the room she’s sharing with Ali. Leaving us all more confused and concerned than ever.

“Well... that went well.”

“Shut up Emily, so not the time.”

//End

Okay so yes that is yet another cliffhanger of sorts, I’m sorry but I thought that was a good place to end it. Just know that Y/N genuinely doesn’t remember a lot of what’s going on, just like she says. Her parents are definitely sus asf.

I’m actually writing part 3 rn so that should be up within the next day or so. I know I keep disappearing but my life is totally a mess rn lol. I’m back now tho and am excited to finally get to all the requests I have. Im so sorry for those waiting I haven’t forgotten. Promise.

-N

Not edited.

#uswnt imagines #uswnt #christen press #alex morgan #imagines #uswnt x reader #megan rapinoe #ashlyn harris #ali krieger #tobin heath #lindsey horan #emily sonnett #mal pugh #The rest of the team will appear #baby reader #USWNT

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plush-rabbit · 3 years

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Intimacy and Vulnerability In A Different Form

Request: Can I please request for some angst with Shigaraki, Hawks and Dabi. Their S/O acts like she enjoy choking but she feels like it’s what she deserve (basically triggering some suicidal/depressive thoughts) so they’ve always thought she liked it until one particularly rough session she started breaking down and begging them to kill her and they found out about her depression. Sorry if this is against the rules, I’m not sure what you don’t write for. But kinda need this in my life rn. Angst+Fluff and aftercare please!!!

Warning: self-harm mentions, suicidal thoughts

A/N: I hope you like it!! Take care of yourself and remember to do the best that you can to take care of yourself and if you can, take your meds!!

Dabi:

His hands are heavy around your neck, a pressure that makes it harder to breathe and even harder to think anything coherent. His lips are bitter, the taste of alcohol lingering on his tongue and his smile presses itself against you in soft kisses. Dabi hovers above you, and as pleasurable as this all should be- the attention that he gives to you and the words that usually makes your body tremble- it’s only making you sick. The pressure tightens and all that can flash through your mind is the horrible mistakes of your past, every wound left open and salt poured on it as his words reach your ears. You aren’t sure what makes this night different compared to the others but your own hands are placed above his, your eyes squeezed tight as you press your hands down on his.

At first, he thinks nothing of it, believing it to just be you simply telling him that you want more pressure but as you continue, your face burns. Tears tracing down and marking you, your moans jumbled out and sounding so pitiful that he stops immediately. Your lips move, words slurred and are told out of order and he knows that something is wrong. You mumble something about wanting to die, and he pulls his hand away from your neck and your own hands that replace where his hand used to be. Your hands curl around your neck, scratching and pulling taut at your skin and you’re left sobbing as he stares down at you. His hands are soft, curving around your wrist and holding them together, watching as you rest against his bare chest, your tears slipping down his skin and burning against his scars.

He isn’t sure what to do. He’s unable to figure out if he should outright ask you what’s wrong but between your sobs and mess of words, he figures that that isn’t wise. The only thing that he can do is hold you close, let his hands rise in heat and rub them against your back, hoping that the motion will soothe you. He has you against him, crying and he knows- or at least has gathered enough information- to decide that you do indeed want to die. You lay against him, crying and letting your emotions get the best of you and he is unable to do what he should do, but yet, he stares at you, looking around the room hoping that the answer will be written on the walls. But, it's just him and you and a wall with chipping paint. There’s no answer to this and he isn’t good at playing therapist, and the most he can offer is a simple question of “are you okay?” even if it’s obvious that you aren’t.

While he isn’t good at sorting things out and giving advice, he is good at listening, taking things to heart and paying attention to the small details. He listens to you talk about how you have your own bad habits- you hand threads with his when you say that- and that sometimes you wish that something or someone would end your life so you didn’t have to do the dirty work. He knows enough about that to nod his head and hold your hand tighter. Your lips brush over the swell in his chest and you rest on his lap, your body shaking with the aftershocks of your sobbing, and your face still wet with tears. He listens well when you talk, nodding his head and squeezing your hand to show that he is still listening to you and his lips press against your head.

The last thing that Dabi wants is to hurt you. He doesn’t want you to see him as something that can only bring pain and destruction; he wants you to view him as a person. He tells you in a whisper that anything rough is out of the question, he doesn't want this to happen again. He tells you that he’ll be with you because he wants to be and that you two can still remain intimate but he won’t hurt you, he doesn’t want to be the reason that you cry. His hands are gentle as they move you away from him, his hand holding your jaw and his eyes linger to when a tear touches his thumb. He kisses the tip of your nose, his smile lazy and he offers a shower- just something to get rid of all the tears and sweat. It isn’t a permanent solution, but it’s the best that he can offer and he’ll stay true to his word, not wanting to go against our trust and safety. There’ll be another conversation about your mental health, but only when you’re more coherent and less in a negative state.

Shigaraki Tomura:

It’s already a dangerous situation to place yourself in with Tomura- his hands around your neck, his focus already diverting to pleasure rather than focusing on you. It’s times like these that he regrets not remembering where he placed the half gloves. His entire being is centered around death, his hands clawed and already so close to closing, the air becoming thin and harder to catch and you’re left with burning tears in your eyes. Your lips meet his in a desperate kiss, straining your neck and making his hands close tighter around your neck. A part of you wants for it to hurt more, for his hands to close around your neck and squeeze until your lips are cold and he’s over your body. You call out in a croaky voice for him to tighten his grip, placing your hands over his and begging for his to close his fist. It’s getting harder to breathe and your vision is dotted in black, tears fall and catch on his hands and your moans have turned to cries. His hand loosens around your neck, his movements stopped and he carefully removes his hand away from you.

The air is tense in the room. Your cries echoing around and he stares down at your body as it closes around itself, your arms hugging your crying form. He carefully crawls beside you, clenching his teeth when the bed creaks under him, his body careful to not touch yours. Beside you, he sits, his back propped by pillows and his lips bitten as he calls your name. He isn’t sure what he’s hoping for in a response- he knows that the answer he wants is unrealistic given your state and he isn’t sure whether he can touch you or if that would lead you to spiral down. His hands catch at a piece of your hair, rubbing the ends between his thumb and index finger. He calls you once more, nudging his leg against your body, hoping that you’ll at least give him a sort of reply.

You give an odd sort of sound- something stuck between a cry and a hiccup- but he takes it. He leans over you, brushing away the stray hair and tears, grabbing at a shirt and cleaning your face with it. You hold his hands with yours, your palm over the back of his hand, the cloth pressed against your face, the warmth of his palms warming at your cheeks. He turns over to lie beside you, his chest against your back and his lips pressed over a bruising spot on your neck. You both lay in silence for a long moment, his hands sliding down until they curve around your stomach, his nose pressed against the back of your head as your cries turn into whimpers. He whispers words of comfort- telling you that it’s okay, that he’s stopped, and letting you just cry as his hands circle around your abdomen.

He asks you what happened, his lips pressed against your neck, his hands still and his words are solemn. He doesn’t know what set it off and he isn’t aware of what he should say and a part of him thinks that it’s his fault. He asks if it was his fault- that maybe he triggered something or something else that he doesn’t know what happened. Your confession about your state of mind makes his body go pale, a shiver running down his spine and his hands curl around your stomach. You make it a point of telling him it wasn't his fault- he hadn’t known, it was something that you kept as a secret. Your hands hold his, your face dry with tear stains still lingering against your face. After the sudden outburst, your tone grows drowsy, eyelids heavy and breaths deeper. He can sense that you’re growing tired, that the outburst took a lot of energy and he moves to grab at a blanket, letting it rest against your waist until you’re ready to move it closer to your body.

During the entirety of your relationship, Tomura has always put your wellbeing as a priority; he wants to know that you’re safe and healthy and when you confess about your issues, about how your mind works against you, he asks you to turn around. He holds you close, allowing you the option to look at him or hide your face, and he speaks slowly. He isn’t going to be the one that brings out painful memories, he’s going to be here for you. Perhaps, he won’t be the best at it, but he’ll do what he can, he’ll offer to listen and to talk, he’ll offer you snacks and hold you when you need to be held. He’ll try and that’s the best he can offer. For now, you’ll rest against him, your body covered by a blanket as he keeps you close, letting his arms wrap tight around you.

Takami Keigo:

A caring lover, Keigo takes great pride in giving in to your needs, wanting you to feel heard and seen during acts of intimacy. If you want his hands around your neck, then he’s willing to do it for you. His face will be pinched, a string of curses hissed under his breath as his hand tightens around your neck. You’re under him, a cloud of negative thoughts forming into a storm, your stomach twisting and churning with every move, your eyes closed tightly and yet, the pressure against your chest isn’t enough, the way that he has his hand wrapped around your throat simply isn’t enough.

It’s a simple bad day turned worse with sex. Despite the act of intimacy and the enjoyment that you derive from it, your thoughts scream loud, drowning out anything and you’re simply just tired. You beg him with a choking voice to tighten his grasp and he does, pressing his forehead against yours for a moment, pulling away with a crooked grin. He doesn't realize what you want- that it isn’t tight enough for you, that you’re pleading for more and that you want him to close the gap until you’re heaving and gasping for air. You beg for it to be tighter and the most that he offers is a squeeze around your throat before he loosens. His hand pulls away as you start to cry, his face falling into a frown as your words are slurred between each cry, your hands covering your face, taking deep breaths with a bitterness that lingers on your tongue.

He ground you, grabbing your hands and lifting you up, his wings pushed back in an attempt to make you feel less crowded. You’re crying, your body trembling and chest shaking with every breath, as he tries to calm you down, asking you to mimic his breaths and tell him the colors on the bed sheet. He’s desperate, fear thick on his words and his hands wanting to hold you but he refrains. His voice is steady as can be, hesitation on the end of his words but nothing like yours that trembles and breaks with every sentence. He’s a hero, he knows what to do, how to calm those who are almost seen as being uncontrollable. He gets your breathing back to normal, holds your knees and has you play with his hand, the lines and calluses traced and touched under your jittery hand.. He lets you catch your breath, your body shaking and tears slowing down into heavy drops.

You open your arms, hands curling close in an attempt to ask him to come closer. He follows, wrapping his arms around you, and bringing you close to him. Careful as ever, he makes sure his wings are extended, careful to not wrap them around you nor him, wanting you to have as much space to breathe. Your hands roam around back, clinging to his shoulder blades, the tips of his feathers teased with your fingertips. His voice is calm, letting you start the conversation or choosing to save it for later and focusing on you right now. You move him and he is putty in your hands, molding into whatever you need him to be, leaning against the headboard and holding you close, feathers twitching restlessly as you lean on his chest. His hands circle back around you, his chin on the top of your head as you start to speak. He lets you take your time when your voice starts to crack, his presence nothing but soothing.

It’s difficult to listen to you talk so negatively about yourself and to know that the rougher stuff introduced during acts of intimacy were more of a punishment rather than something for pleasure. Keigo is patient in listening to you, holding you close to him and kissing your knuckles as you talk and go further in detail. He won’t push you to do things that are outside of your comfort zone and would prefer for you to take your own pace and come into realizations for yourself. He’s your partner and he’ll help you as much as he can, but he isn’t good at taking care of himself and can often find him going further than what’s good for you. He talks to you and runs his hand down your spine, moving around until you’re side by side, his smile almost pained. It’s a minute before he rises, holding you close to him and leading you to the bathroom, turning the water on and letting you stand under it, his hands covered in white fluff as suds cover your body, his body close to yours.

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