#// AND MY GIRL GONE DONE FLUSTERED HERSELF

[maudlxne]

She stepped a bit off to the side to allow him to wash his hands after she had finished. A soft breathy little giggle slipped past her as she dried each digit thoroughly. While she wasn't expecting to get her hands too dirty - wanting the guide him through the process and help when needed - it was always best to have clean hands when handling any food items. Hearing him crack a light joke, starting to brighten slowly, she couldn't help but smile. A soft affectionate gaze washed over her, long lashes fluttering a bit as she admired him. Unable to stuff down that bubbling feeling that wanted to brew to the surface.

In the end - all she wished for was his happiness. For him to be able to smile, cry, and express himself freely without fear of the past. That those harsh judgmental gazes and words would melt away into a distant memory. That he could find his own peace and make his own home. She supposed that's how most people feel about those they care for . . . and she adored him enough that she wanted him to be happy even if it wasn't with her. Being able to share these little moments - to just be his friend - was more than she could ever dare ask for. To ask for more felt greedy . . . selfish.

Blue met her off white ones and she felt herself take in a small breath. Gaze flickering down briefly to her hands before sheepishly turning her gaze back to him. Worried her may have caught her staring just a little too long at him. A little too fondly.

❝ Of course . . . I'm happy to do it, Naruto - kun. I want . . . to be there for you. ❞

After all he had done for her - for others - it was the very least she could do. All other emotions aside he was her friend first and foremost. Somebody she wanted to uplift and be there for when he needed somebody. He deserved to have somebody. His next set of words gave her pause. Gazing at him for a moment longer before looking towards her countertop with a small smile.

❝ Thank you . . . I . . . hope the same for you. If . . . they don't treat you right, then I will talk to them. I think . . . you deserve somebody who will treat you wonderfully and love you completely just for being you. ❞

She was so worried about laying too many cards on the table. Showing her hand too soon. Emotions she should keep to herself just kept wanting to claw its way free each time he gazed at her.

❝ I think . . . you're wonderful. Anyone would be so lucky . . . I . . . ❞

Her voice trailed off a bit towards the end before she took in a sharp breath of air. Shoulders straightened up trying - and failing - to shove down the blush that was starting to creep across the apples of her cheeks.

❝ U - Um right. T - The cake. Well . . . um . . . first we need to get our d - dry ingredients together. No - I mean gather our ingredients. Um and turn the oven on to 350 Fahrenheit or roughly 176 Celsius. I - I already have the ingredients out but we should go over what each of them are. ❞

Mentally groaning at the fact she allowed herself to get so flustered. How embarrassing - !

chuckling warmly, feeling a lot lighter than before the blond followed suit washing his hands right after hinata was done. he still could feel the SOFTNESS of her skin on his cheeks, as if a ghostly memory stayed behind ; making his heart flutter anxiously like a leaf on a windy day. ignoring kurama's grown 'pon realizing how foolish his charge was once again, the uzumaki made sure to REMEMBER this precious moment whenever the sadness within grew unbearably strong to carry with a smile on lips. the hyuuga had saved him many times by now with her kindness even if she didn't realize it or think it wasn't such a big deal it meant the WORLD to the jinchuuriki. growing up in loneliness had made him way more aware of how precious close people are afterall.

❛ yeah , washing hands sounds like a good idea when handling food , 'ttebayo . ❜ he tried to joke lightly, voice breaking slightly from emotional outburst. feeling emberrassed about it as he dried his hands carefully with a soft towel, the uzumaki turned to look at her with A SHY SMILE . he hoped he wouldn't mess up baking now, hands shaking a bit. nervous fluttering was back, a hot sensation within his stomach as well.

❛ thank you again for . . well , everything . the uh the help for my moment there is greatly appreciated , as well as the baking together . ❜

/ STOP BEING SO DUMB , I ALREADY TOLD YOU WHAT IT IS THAT YOU FEEL . YOU FOOL . /

licking his lips nervously, remembering their shopping trip from the otherweek the blond tried not to TURN INTO A TOMATO instantly ; crimson dusting whiskers nonetheless as he was reminded of it all & their closeness. he had never thought too deeply of physical touches before as they are a way to express his love for his friends / family figures but with her it felt more intimate & different now in a way he liked. it was a feeling of coming home ; especially now standing here with her about to bake a cake in a flavor his mother had liked to honor her memory.

❛ ne , hinata - chan . . ❜ voice warm, tingly as he turned but hues serious. ❛ whoever you decide to marry . . they are a very lucky person & i'll have to make sure they treat you right , 'ttebayo . ❜ he didn't dare to say anything about own feelings just yet, the fox surprisingly quiet. watching on. kurama wasn't cruel he'd let the blond sort through this until he was comfortable to voice out deepest desires nestled within heart on his own. it was the RIGHT WAY afterall.

hands coming to rest on the kitchen counter next to her, one of them only inches away from his friend ( almost touching , nerves fluttering ) ; the blond looked at every tool & ingredient spread out with a SHINY TWINKLE deep within sky-like mirrors radiating sunbeams almost.

❛ where do we start ? ❜

[randomshyperson]

Saw your drabble list challenge thingie, here's my request, absolutely no pressure or whatsoever though.

Wanda + hugs + no. 24

Your writing makes me so giddy and warm, like a school girl kicking her legs while reading dork diaries.

Wanda Maximoff x Reader

prompt: hugging with height difference | warnings: none.

The team had thrown a big party to celebrate your return.

Wanda was feeling a bit out of the loop. Of course, she was relieved and genuinely happy that you were back, safe, and with little more than a few scratches on your face. But the setting, a room full of Avengers and anyone else Tony Stark could get at such short notice, wasn't exactly her scene.

Besides, Wanda barely had time to see you. Your sudden arrival at the compound was as quick as your departure - Shield had a lot of questions about your last mission. And the brief wave and a whisper of "see you later" was the only greeting Wanda received.

She forced herself to go to the party - Out of consideration for you and also because the Black Widow had politely persuaded her to attend.

But going didn't mean participating, and Wanda spent most of the night hiding in the bar while you told people all about your adventures in space with Captain Danvers and the God of Thunder - the latter seemed quite happy to have the attention stolen since he could focus on his fiancée Jane, instead of fawning guests.

Wanda hadn't seen Carol since she arrived, and she wished you had been as quick as the captain in escaping the guests.

Her patience grew thin as the night went on. In fact, Wanda could have stopped pouting at any moment and gone to greet you (Natasha's words, not hers) but she ended up being overcome by introversion, and the pain in her feet from the heels she chose, so just before they cut your cake - a birthday lost due to your time out of the planet - she sneaked out.

She could talk to you tomorrow. Or any other day, when she no longer has that nervous feeling in the pit of her stomach every time she imagines herself under your attention, talking directly to you, or being alone in your presence.

The path to the room is lonely since that side of the compound is empty due to the party. She holds her heels in her right hand but almost drops them on the floor when the elevator at the other end of the hallway opens, and you stumble out, breathless as if you were running to catch up with it.

"Hey, Wanda!" Your face lights up with a mix of happiness and relief, having managed to find her, so close to her bedroom door. She shifted her weight between her feet, smiling awkwardly. You tried to seem less flustered. "I can't believe you ran away from my party."

Wanda only realized how much she missed having you torment her when you did it again. She felt a lump form in her throat, surprising herself with the sudden urge to cry. You sighed immediately, as affected to see her again as she was.

"Sorry." She murmurs hoarsely. “Parties aren’t really my thing.”

“I know.” You give her a small smile, and Wanda bites the inside of her cheek as she notices your footsteps toward her. “I guess I’m the one who should apologize. For not coming to talk to you sooner.”

She shakes her head. “You seemed busy.”

“Busy for my best friend? Never.” You assure her, earning a tearful laugh from her. Wanda isn’t surprised when your hands find her cheeks, wiping away the tears she hadn’t even realized she’d let fall. It was the first thing you did for her so long ago, back in a cell in Sokovia when you first met her, and something you’ve done ever since whenever she thinks of Pietro. You frown, worried about her tears, and Wanda sniffs softly, trying to control her emotions. “Did I say something wrong?”

She brings her free hand to your left wrist, massaging your skin with her thumb, while your hands linger on her cheeks, caressing the damp skin. “It’s just… so good to see you again.” She confesses, smiling through her tears. "You took a while." 

"The longest months of my life, believe me." You comment, offering her a small smile. There's a quick exchange of glances between you. Wanda thinks she imagines your eyes falling to her lips before you sigh and look at her with such affection that she feels her heart swell. "Come here, Wands."

She doesn't need to be told twice. It's not the first time she's hugged you, but it's only the third. The first time, you carried her in your arms away from a fallen city, and Wanda let her arms wrap around your neck. She couldn't even tell if it could be considered a hug, but it meant the world to her. The second, the first real hug, was on impulse after long training sessions in the tower and you were on enough adrenaline to forget about your super strength. Wanda complained softly, and you never hugged her again after a series of apologies.

But tonight, you wrapped your arms around her. Gentle at first, then as tight as you could. Wanda let her heels slide to the floor, her hands moving up to your back. The height difference between her and a Kryptonian was considerable, but it only made everything more perfect. She didn’t think much, just buried her face against your chest, inhaling deeply and letting her body relax into your hold.

Your fingers wrapped around her hair, massaging her scalp and running through the strands as she felt the heat from her cheeks spread throughout her body. She could no longer tell if it was emanating from you or her.

"I really missed you, witchy." 

She nodded softly at your words, her heart racing in her chest. She realized at that moment that there was no way to put into words the feeling that your absence caused her. She sighed, tightening the hug a little. You seemed to understand exactly what she meant.

[nxghtstxne]

"you’re my best girl"

Warnings: None

Pairings: Leah Williamson x reader

Words: 946

The first time Leah saw that little smile and how you reached your hands up to try to cover up the almost obvious blush that had crawled onto your cheeks and nose, she was gone for.

Technically it was before you two had made it official, you were on a date at the arcade late on a Tuesday night, “Come on y/n, that was terrible!” She was stood to the side, watching while you attempted to beat her score at a shooting game, however, the feeling of her eyes on your every move was making you nervous, causing you to miss almost every target. You shot the girl a glare as you huffed and put the gun down, “Don’t laugh at me Lee, I'm trying but it’s hard with you staring..” You huffed but with a slight smirk at the end of your words, making the blonde laugh, making her way to stand behind you. She grabbed the gun before wrapping her arms around your body, her hands over yours on the fake gun. 

You tried hard to focus on the game but with Leah’s strong arms and face so close to yours, it made it almost impossible. The game over screen flashed on the screen as your name got higher up on the score list, landing just under Leahs. “See? There you go, much better my girl.” As soon as she had muttered those words in your ear, her hands long forgetting the gun and had moved to your waist, you felt the heat rush to your face and the butterflies all over your stomach. Leah had obviously noticed the colour change and let out a slightly husky giggle at how you moved your face in a pathetic attempt to hide. “Shut up!” Pushing her hands off of you and grabbing your drink you made your way over to find another game. That whole time you had missed the look on Leah's face, too busy trying to hide your own, you had missed the lovestruck look she had given you and how proud she was at the face that she had made you flustered. She was definitely going to do that again. 

The second time Leah remembered the way her heart swelled at how cute you looked when you got shy from her was when you were sat on the sofa, wrapped in a blanket while typing away on your laptop. Too busy with your university work to notice the taller girl walk in and lean over the back of the seat, head propped on her arms, her blue eyes watching the way you bit your lip as your fingers moved too fast for her to follow. Without realising it, her hand had reached up and her index finger had started to gently stroke across your cheek. The movement had caused you to stop typing, “What’re you doing?” You asked while trying, and failing, not to smile. 

Moving your laptop off of your lap, you faced her and the sight of her standing there, watching you with a soft look in her eyes, her finger still tracing over your cheek before moving down to your lips, had once again caused that heat to make its way to your face. You could tell by the way her eyes lit up, that you were blushing and you sighed at that, catching onto her love for causing it by this point; but also at how easy it was for her to make you blush. “Nothing, you jus’ looked so cute pretty girl..” You groaned and threw your head back at this. “I’m gonna get you back y’know? Just wait.” She laughed at this and made her way round to sit next to you, throwing her feet up onto the coffee table, quickly changing the channel and pulling your blanket partly over herself. “Sure you are.” 

Even when she wasn’t purposefully trying to make you blush, Leah still had her ways. During the most recent gym session the two of you took together, you were doing sets on the leg press, trying your hardest to finish the set of 10 with the most weight you’ve done yet. With every push you completed, you could hear Leah on the side giving you compliments, “Yes, good job baby! One more, you got this.” At first it was urging you on to push more, but after some time the pet names at every station and machine were starting to to affect you, sweetheart, my love, baby. 

Taking a water break, you made your way over to her, “My last few pushes on that weren’t that great, think I could have done more.” You muttered in between breaths, not quite as confident in your skills as she was. “What do you mean? They were great” 

“Maybe but I want to do better at it.” You pulled out your hair from the pony tail and re-did it as Leah finished up on the pull up bar. “Nah I think you’re already better, you’re my best girl, you’re all good!” Scoffing, you replied “Please, I'm your only girl Williamson.” Proud at yourself for not letting that name make you blush like it usually would, about to walk off to do something else, you felt a quick smack to your ass as Leah laughed, “Yeah you’re all mine.” And there it was, the blush that you tried so hard to not let creep up, you swore silently to yourself that the tall blonde would be the death of you, as she swore to herself that she would make you blush every day for the rest of your life together, it now becoming her favourite colour.

[besuggestion]

(for anon 🥰)

One day, a girl notices her chest starts growing, and it won't stop - it seems the temporary solution is to milk herself every night, to get back to normal. Of course, she goes to the doctor to get it checked. The doctor is very confused, and requests a bottle of the milk in order to study it further.

So, that night she milks herself, pouring her milk into a bottle to save for the doctor. When she's done, she puts it in the fridge.

The next day, it's not there. When she asks her mom -

"Your sister took it with her as part of her lunch. Why?"

The girl is much too embarrassed to explain why, and simply decides to try again that night to get some of that milk to the doctor.

---

During her lunch break, the sister tries a little of the milk.

"This tastes weird. Do you think it's gone bad?"

One of her friends grabs the bottle.

"Let me try some. Huh. I don't know. It doesn't taste sour...?"

"What do you mean? Lemme have a taste!"

A group of five girls passes the bottle around, all of them tasting a little bit of the milk - except for one girl, who watches quietly. The girls notice, and shove the bottle towards her.

"Here, you try it, too!"

In the end, they decide to throw it away...but it was too late for that.

They get back to work, settle into their desks, but...

The sister realizes first. Something wasn't right. She felt a little hazy, and something warm was spreading from her stomach. She shrugs it off, but an hour later, the feeling is too intense for her to ignore. And...she now could say for certain that her chest was getting bigger. It was getting tight, and the buttons on her shirt were barely holding it in. And yet, it kept growing, getting slowly bigger, and bigger...

The last button was barely holding on. Before she could be exposed in front of everyone, the sister makes a dash for the restroom - only to see that all of her friends were already there.

"You, too?!" one asks, surprised. It seems as though all of them - well, it was obvious enough to tell that all of them had much bigger chests than before.

"It's...it's getting so big!" another whines, trying to press her tits back into the shirt. It stays for a moment, before popping out with more force than she anticipated, and a button pops off.

All of them go silent. They had never seen their friend like this before, but with her fat, juicy tits sticking out like this, and that cute, flustered expression on her face...

"Mmn!" the same girl moans, and they all watch as her chest grows, getting bigger, the nipples no longer being held back by the bra...

One girl, the one who usually didn't talk much, moves towards the exposed girl, wasting no time before grabbing her tits.

"Hyaa!" she moans, and...milk starts dribbling out.

"Oh, that looks tasty." the woman murmurs, before leaning in to suck on the woman's tits, drinking as much as she can.

The other girls don't know how to react. Their heads were spinning. Could something like this happen? Did that mean...milk would come from their breasts, too?

One girl takes off her shirt and starts milking herself, immediately loosing herself to pleasure. She moans, and the milk drips down, creating a puddle on the floor.

At that, it was like a switch had been flipped. All the girls start touching each other, pressing their milky breasts against other milky breasts, until their bodies were covered with milk, and their heads were filled with nothing but milk...

---

"Oh, there's another bottle of milk."

The next morning, the girl's mom noticed that they still had a bit more milk.

"Wonderful! This is just enough for me to make that cake for my book club!"

[xxnashiraxx]

Pairing: Astarion/f!Tav ~ Astarion/f!OC (Ofelia) Word Count: 6,774 Tags/Warnings: 18+ MDNI, Inappropriate Use of the Tadpole, PiV Sex, Riding, Oral (Female & Male Receiving), Fingering, Masturbation, Slight BDSM, Restraints, Gagged, Blindfold, Melted Candle Wax, +Some Soft Astarion, Porn Without Plot, Slight Fluff, Biting Summary: Ofelia's mundane evening is interrupted by a certain vampire utilizing the tadpole to entice her to his tent during dinner. She takes the bait, ending up biting off more than she chew... literally. ˖ A fun, all porn no plot oneshot featuring Astarion and my longfic main character, Ofelia set during Act 3 but completely separate from the main fic!

divider here 🩸

AO3 | Song Reference: No One Like You - Scorpions

Ahh, the final installment is here!! These were all so fun to write!!! I had such a blast making these this month- it made for some great practice for the main fic, and also helped me explore their dynamics for once they're in a more trusting and happy place later on in the story! ❤ This was seriously such a fun time- I couldn't have done it without the encouragement and inspiration from some of the coolest and most talented people (@khywren, @pinkberrytea, & @verbenaa to name just a few!)

Now, please enjoy this one- it's a bit shorter than the others (for my sanity). It'll be back to my regularly scheduled programming of With Stars to Fill My Dream updates after this, and look forward to a fun one-shot for Christmas where Ofelia shares the tradition with her companions! ❤ (Spicy art WIP for a scene in this fic at the end!)

Tags: @zozoparsnips ❤

Prompt 1 | Prompt 2 | Masterlist

Girl, there are really no words strong enough,

To describe all my longing for love.

I don’t want my feelings restrained.

Oh, babe,

I just need you like never before,

Just imagine you’d come through this door,

You’d take all my sorrow away,

***

Ofelia stares into her soup, slightly groggy.

The day had been long, full of fighting through a disgusting sewer looking for Jaheira’s old comrade- who turned out to be surprisingly nice, but it was still a sewer. Ugh. The bath she’d taken still didn’t feel like enough. Despite everything, her companions manage to find entertainment in the form of Scratch performing tricks to which they happily clap and cheer in their little camp beside the harbor.

“Is it not to your tastes?” Gale murmurs, hushed tones doing nothing to mask his question from the others around the campfire. She smiles softly, stirring the clear broth and noodles.

“No, it’s really good… I’m just a little tired from the day.” He offers her an understanding smile before Karlach knocks into him from behind in her bid to have Scratch chase the ball she holds aloft.

Ofelia pushes her utensil around the bowl, mind wandering to their resident vampire as vague loneliness distracts her from truly joining the others. Astarion had gone to his tent long before dinner was served and with a chaste kiss, he left her beside the fire, a glimmer to his eyes and a lingering touch on her shoulder. She had wondered if he wanted her to join him, but she hadn’t been sure. Usually, he’d just ask—this time he didn’t. So she’s stayed, catching herself almost falling face-first into her food a few times.

As the rest gather closer to the campfire, listening to Jaheira and Minsc tell stories of their old adventures, Ofelia starts to feel it. It begins as a tingle in her belly and a gentle onset of warmth that unfolds over her face and abdomen, making her feel overheated and flustered. At first, she blames the broth, wondering if she’s starting to get sick until the sensation settles between her thighs and she inhales sharply.

“Ofelia? Is everything alright?” Shadowheart asks, but Ofelia doesn’t reply. Her heart starts to race, sweat breaking over the back of her neck, and she shifts in her seat to stifle the feeling but it’s no use. An ache, stunning in its force, unfolds below and she sets her bowl down on the ground with shaking hands. The tadpole chitters in her skull- a familiar throb beginning at her temples and she instantly knows what’s happening.

She feels him, his motions, the air puffing through his flared nostrils as his teeth anchor over his rolled-up shirt, long, deft fingers palming the hard bulge over his pants. She feels it as if she is him and she tenses when he unties the laces and lets his cock spring free as a quiet sigh of relief pours from his lips.

“U-uh yeah…” Ofelia looks up at Shadowheart, eyes misty and cheeks red. The half-elf frowns, holding the back of her hand over her forehead, and Ofelia jumps at the contact.

“You’re feeling a little warm…” Shadowheart continues, but Ofelia’s lost in the feeling of Astarion finally stroking himself, she can feel his stomach tightening and his fangs digging through the fabric into his lower lip as he holds back a soft moan. Sensations build across her skin, her forehead feverish and her mouth dry. She shifts on the log, holding back a soft whine as heat pools between her legs and the feeling of him swiping his thumb over the wetness gathering at the tip lights her nerves on fire.

She feels him set a slow pace, driving himself mad at the gentle rocking of his hips as he fucks his hand. Ofelia bites her cheek hard, eyes squinting shut as the sensations of relief clash with her unrestrained desire- frustration causing her to twitch and dig her nails into her arms. She tries to reach out, but there’s a strange wall up between them keeping her strictly in receiving territory.

“Ofelia…” The blunt edges of her teeth almost cut the tip of her tongue off when her jaw snaps shut. His voice in her mind, chanting her name, is the gavel that seals her fate. She fights the urge to make a sound of discomfort, more of his pleasant sighs ringing in her ears as she stands abruptly.

“I… don’t feel well. I think I’m going to lie down.” She says through gritted teeth as Astarion quickens the pace of his movements, her body flooding with a rush of heat that spreads from her core outward. Shadowheart looks vaguely troubled, as do the rest who’d looked up at the quiet commotion, but no one interjects. Ofelia manages to slip away, thanking whatever gods that Astarion had put his tent as far from the fire as possible- yet still very much in hearing range. She throws open the entrance to find him smirking up at her, the culprit in hand glistening gloriously in the candlelight. The sight makes her knees weak.

“You… did you do that on purpose? How come I couldn’t get through?” Her voice is hushed but measured and dangerous, his smile deepening as she steps fully inside.

“How else was I going to get you over here?” he murmurs, soft and seductive. She carefully lowers herself to her knees beside him as he idly moves his hand back and forth, maintaining eye contact as they remain connected. She can feel the twist of his fingers and the subtle flex of his wrist. When a soft groan echoes in her mind, she opens her eyes to blink in confusion.

“Was that only in my head?” His grin deepens, hands abandoning their task to unclasp her corset and tug it off completely.

“Correct,” He reaches up and pulls her down till her lips crash over his and he devours every little breathless sigh and tremble of her body. “We haven’t touched like this in so long… we’re too close to everyone…” She hums at the words in her head, soft as she can, unable to linger on them as the slightest touch of his lips to her neck sends chills down her spine. He undoes her bra and her nipples stiffen in the chilled air, unable to restrain the gasps that slip past her teeth as his fingers barely brush over them. She’s so sensitive… doesn’t remember ever feeling it this intensely before.

Perhaps it has been a while for them… they’d not done much else but fight through the Lower City for the last few days, and before that, it had been fighting to get to the gates and through Gortash’s Steel Watch. Which hadn’t put up much of a fight, since they’d been allowed entry at the cost of a sham deal. Her eyes widen at the mental count she’s gone through, the number eighteen shining in her vision as his soft tut slices through the realization.

“Eighteen gods damn days and I haven’t been inside you for a single one of them. I feel like I’m dying,” He growls. She flushes hard, lips parted as she holds his ruby eyes in her gaze. They pierce right through her and he uses the connection to withdraw the scene playing within, lips ticking up at the corner to reveal his pretty fangs.

“No snooping,” She pouts, her cheeks rising in temperature as his hands move to enact the craving she’d accidentally let slip.

“Please, you were leaving that exactly where you hoped I’d find it.” She squints her eyes shut and holds back a noise, unwilling to tell him out loud what that gravelly growl just did to her. With a light chuckle, she knows he’s very aware, and one hand nudges her thighs apart so he can dip between them and lightly run up the seam of her through her clothes.

“Mmmph!” Her hand flies up to cover her mouth, heat surging through her veins at the light touch. It’s enough to leave her trembling, eyes snapping open to zero in on him through the haze around the edges of her vision.

“I barely have to try and you’re already so wet for me… tssk tssk.” She whimpers softly, letting him do it again, and another gush of wetness dooms her further, making denial impossible as she bites down on her fingers to stifle the moan.

Shakily she lets him guide her onto her back on the blankets, heart fluttering as his cool digits caress the plump skin of her belly to rest at the waistband of her pants. His eyes linger over hers as he sits up, moving smoothly through her vision as he gently prods her knees and she complies by propping them up. Once he’s pushed them apart, he sits between them, those painstakingly perfect curls of his now tousled and lying in soft sweeps over his forehead and ears. Cute and messy- just the way she likes.

“Everyone’s still awake and just outside…” She whispers, though her eager pants and the waves of longing growing within push the concern aside. He tightens his grip on her legs, leaning down ever so slightly, and as he hovers above a wicked smile unfurls over his pale pink lips.

“And?” Cheeks aflame, she brings her hands up to rest over her bare breasts, obscuring the stiff peaks from his sight, and his eyes glint with disapproval. “Hmm. Seems like I’ll have to use them after all.” Before she can open her mouth to question him, he’s reaching for something beneath a cushion in the corner, and her eyes widen in realization when he pulls it and its companions out from their hiding place.

“Really? I didn’t think you’d like this sort of stuff,” She smirks, watching his smile deepen.

“Oh, but your eyes lingered a little too long on them in that shop window, and I assumed. Do feel free to tell me if I’ve made a mistake.” Her entire body roars with heat at the sight of the pretty, silken red rope as he beckons for her to give him her wrists.

“Astarion… this is dangerous. What about everybody?” She murmurs, obeying his command as she weaves her fingers together so he can restrain her properly.

“Use the tadpole.” She cocks a brow, focusing on the sweet divot between his brows as he focuses on the task of now tying her forearms together. Her eyes dip further, taking in the bunched-up fabric of his shirt sitting above his narrow waist, and further still until they find the flushed head of his cock and the soft bulging veins that decorate his shaft, saliva pooling in her mouth as she pictures her tongue following the thickest of them from root to tip.

“Naughty,” He chides with a laugh, pinching her nipple as punishment, and with a soft gasp he finishes securing her arms.

“Use the tadpole how?” He sits back on his heels, admiring his handy work, before pulling his shirt off to discard behind him.

“Watch, feel,” She does. His long pale fingers move down the front of his body, gleaming like alabaster beneath the soft golden light. He winds his talented hands around the base of him, trousers slipping down his thighs, and her eyes follow the gentle fist he makes as he drags it up once, lashes fluttering shut as a soft groan enters her mind.

“Wow…” She breathes, and his lips tick up to expose the sharp points of his fangs as her voice mixes within their shared connection. His eyes open, narrow crimson irises tethering to hers, and she shifts and squirms beneath him, desperate for relief as he pumps his hand back and forth faster. Every stroke draws a soft noise from him, breath stolen from her lungs as she lies captivated by the glistening fluid he spreads from the tip over his twitching shaft, the lewd schlick schlick sounds as he pleasures himself in front of her leaving her shaking all over.

“Astarion,” She warns, pinching him with her knees. He laughs under his breath, pausing in his motions to reach forward and slowly drag both her underthings and pants off. She lies there naked, need pooling in her core, and he shuffles his pants off before reaching for one of the other items he’d retrieved earlier.

“Lift your head up, love.” She complies, stealing a kiss from him before silk covers her eyes and he ties it securely in the back.

“Hmmm full of surprises tonight, aren’t you.” She smirks, not knowing if he’s still hovering over her or if he’s leaned back again courtesy of the blindfold.

“Do you trust me, Ofelia?” She frowns at the odd question, shaking her head.

“Of course, why?” She hears a light hum, bubbling out of his throat before his hands run over her hips. It makes her jump, not expecting the contact, and angry waves of lust grow ever insistent against her skin.

“Good. Just remember- the tadpole, darling,” She nods, still mystified, as his fingers begin to work soft breathy sighs from her lips. They caress her cheeks, dance along her neck, stroke the pillowy swells of her breasts to linger over her stiff nipples, before descending further. She gasps when his tongue moves to lave over the places his hands have been as he starts to spread her thighs, gently squeezing the plump flesh.

“Nng… Astarion…” She rolls her hips up into his hands, redirecting the noises she’d like to be making into demanding whines that flow through the stream binding their minds together. His voice is smooth and soft as velvet as he coos back, lips idling below her navel as he kisses her there.

“Good girl,” She spasms as his tongue gathers the juices leaking from her core to flick lightly over her clit, teeth digging into her lip as she fights the urge to voice her reactions into the night air. Her hands strain against the rope, wanting madly to touch him, to do anything, but it’s no use. The material digs deliciously into her skin, her breath coming out in ragged bursts as he does it again and the spark of pleasure that flashes between her legs and behind her eyes almost blinds her.

 “So pent up… so wet… and you taste so sweet.” Her head thrashes from side to side as he resumes his gentle laps over her soaked core, fighting to keep still beneath his strong hands. A few sounds slip from her lips, strangled and soft, and she feels him drag his fangs over her skin in a warning.

“Please go slower…” She pleads, swallowing each whimper that threatens to pour over her lips. It’s so hard… so hard… and he’s ignoring her request, the tip of his tongue pushing the hood back to expose the sensitive nerve as he sucks it roughly. Her hips jerk and her legs tent around him, muted moans escaping her control.

“I thought I told you to keep quiet.” The growl in her mind leaves her thighs trembling and she startles when she feels his fingers grip her chin, a touch on the stern side, as a piece of damp cloth gets pushed against her mouth. She opens up, stifling another groan as her teeth dig into the smooth cotton, tasting herself on the fabric as a shiver pulses down her body at the realization, and every nerve lights up anew.

His mouth closes around her tender bud, sucking lightly just as his fingers sweep over her thigh to leave a trail of goosebumps in their wake. Every light touch feels magnified, her eyes closed beneath the blindfold yet straining to get a glimpse him. She bites harder down onto the fabric when his fingers find her slick entrance to lightly trace the fluttering outline, her muscles seizing and her hips grinding against his mouth in an effort to gain relief. He’s been teasing her thus far, even his lips bathing her in only the daintiest of glances. A growing whine builds in her throat, spilling into his mind through the tadpole, and his pleased hums thunder in her ears as she rests her bound hands over her stomach.

“Please, Astarion,” Her tone is desperate, far past the notion of dignity. When she’s with him, there’s no outer shell. He dismantles her with practiced hands, slow and sweet, and it's both agony and bliss to be known this way.

He plunges his middle finger in to the knuckle and she throws her head back against the cushions, teeth digging into the material further dampened by her saliva as the flames threaten to burn her alive. She utilizes the connection, making sure he can hear every noise she wishes she could voice aloud, and his soft laughs carry through the air in reply- not unkind, but frustratingly smug. He adds another digit and curls them perfectly, her muscles tightening and her impending climax looming closer as he flicks his tongue over her clit.

“Do you think you could be even sweeter and come on my fingers, darling?” She inhales sharply, feeling her walls clench around him in response.

“Yes… anything you want… yes,” He kisses her stomach softly, fangs leaving treasured impressions against her skin, and his free hand tugs her closer before curling beneath her leg, face fully buried between her thighs. Her heart throbs in her chest at the attention, arms extending as far as she can reach to tangle her fingers in his soft hair.

He pumps his fingers in once, twice, mouth latching on fully to suck and lick and push her closer, and suddenly before she can fall off the edge, his face and head leave her grasp. His digits work faster until withdrawing completely to replace his mouth and before she can adjust to the change, the swollen head of his cock is plunging inside, pleasure snapping like a whip over her as he thrusts to the hilt.

“Astarion!” She complies with his request, though he’d been the one to change the terms. Her entire body curls in, the intensity of white-hot ecstasy stealing her breath and raking over her with sharp claws. Her mind lists, falling from the connection before his tadpole latches back on forcefully and she’s gazing at her sweat-slick body through his eyes, watching her chest rise and fall in an effort to come back down.

“Beautiful,” His voice is reverent and soft in the tent, her vision dimming back into the welcoming darkness of the blindfold as he strokes over her waist. She sighs, still riding out the aftershocks of her climax as he throbs inside her, and she feels his hands close around hers before dragging them up above her head. She lifts a brow, curiosity crossing the bridge between their minds, and he clicks his tongue.

“You'll see…” She waits impatiently as his movements cause him to sink even deeper, and she gasps as she adjusts to the stretch. He does something to secure her hands before his warmth leaves her, raw and aching in the space where he’d been.

“Oh, you really planned this out,” Humor laces through the words she projects to him, and with a punitive flick to her nipple, she quiets with a yelp, fire burning hot in her belly at the action.

“Don't sound so surprised,” His tone sends shivers down her spine- deep and flaring with warning. She decides to test her luck further, pulling futilely at the rope around her hands before letting him hear the laugh she wishes she could make.

“Sorry darling,” She chides, hissing as he drags his length out of her. She mourns the loss, but her smile around the gag in her mouth widens at the possibility of where he may end up next. “Just didn't expect this level of forethought-”

“Silence,” He growls in her ear, pulling her underthings out of her mouth much more gently than she'd expected as his tongue sweeps over the wetness left in their wake. “Even gagged you still keep talking. Seems I'll have to shut you up some other way.”

She whimpers with anticipation, only having a second to rub her thighs together once he's left his place between them before the fat head of his cock presses against her grin. She greedily opens her mouth, groaning as he slips inside, and his echoing moans fill the tent with almost alarming volume.

“Thought we were being quiet?” He fists her hair and tips her face to get a better angle, her soft cry smothered by his shaft, and she blissfully dissolves into the feeling of him filling her as his hips move in barely subdued snaps.

“Hells, enough woman. Now be good and stay. Quiet,” He punctuates the last word with a growl and a sharp thrust, slick gushing from her at the sound of his voice. She hums in delight, rosy waves of devotion mixing with the peel of want that crackles through her mind. He strokes her cheek in approval and she trembles at the contrast in comparison to his deep thrusts.

“Alright, pet?” He coos, voice rushing through her and hard to fully grasp as it trickles between her thoughts. She tries to nod, wanting to see the way his hips move as he rocks them back and forth, hunger sharpening into heady desire and he chuckles in reply.

“Suppose you deserve a reward for taking me so well, darling.” She shudders and her cunt clenches around nothing, longing for him in two places at once.

She blinks when he pulls the blindfold up to rest over her forehead, awash in his pale glow as he moves in the candlelight. Every undulation of his body fans hot flames of desire burning low in her abdomen, dangerous and all-consuming. She could stare at him all day- all night. She's especially hypnotized by his spit-soaked length disappearing beneath her nose as her fucks her mouth, her vision going blurry with tears as he starts to rock deeper.

“Gods, look at you,” The words exude awe and barely restrained lust, ragged and restless as they echo back to her. She hums, hollowing her cheeks and swirling her tongue and he hits the back of her throat at last with a shift of her jaw, broken whines spilling from him.

“Fuck,” He hisses outloud, voice barely a whisper as he pulls out enough to let her catch her breath. His face is devastating, screwed up in pleasure and flushed full of the blood she'd given him before dinner. With a loving swipe of his thumb, he gathers the drool covering her chin before pressing the tip of his cock back over her lips.

“Can I feel it too?” She whispers, watching his ruby eyes darken into tiny slivers.

“Gods, yes… Open,” He commands, and she does, their connection strengthening as he pushes inside again.

A bolt of pleasure sparks between her legs at the odd sensation of his entry, and she feels faint at the disorienting pulse of want throwing her into the fire as she discovers firsthand just how lovely her own mouth feels wrapped around him.

“Don't… move for a second,” Her voice rings back, sounding embarrassingly depraved, and she shudders at the way lightly flicking her tongue over the tip feels. He crowns her head with his fingers, lightly scratching at her scalp, and a fever breaks over her skin as he drags himself out before gently pushing back inside.

“Ofelia… this may not be a good idea,” She releases him with a soft pop, feeling their link slacken until only intentional thoughts remain shared.

“What’s wrong?” She speaks low, watching his brow furrow as he releases his lower lip from beneath his teeth.

“I… your bleeding over… gods, it feels new. I won’t last.” A smug grin tugs at her lips and he exhales in sharp rasps.

“Would that really be so bad?” He sighs, stroking her hair, before shuffling down her body. No matter how much she whines in protest, he ignores her, knees caging in her legs as his elbows rest beside her shoulders.

“It is when I’ve got more planned,” She rolls her eyes playfully, huffing a laugh when he tugs the blindfold back down and affectionately pinches her cheek.

With her senses rendered to four once more, she strains for any indication of his next move as she feels him sit up, backside resting against the tops of her thighs as his heavy cock bumps her stomach. She twists her arms until the silk closes around her wrists painfully, letting out a shuddering sigh at the feeling as she lies in wait.

“Tell me if it’s too much,” Astarion murmurs, finally, and she tenses in anticipation of what he’s alluding to. She doesn’t have to count the seconds for long, a drop of heat landing on her right breast to singe her before cooling against her skin.

“You didn’t…” She rasps, feeling the web holding her thoughts aloft begin to fray at the seams. She writhes and moans, inhaling sharply when his palm covers her mouth and a few more drops spill over her chest.

“You make such lovely noises for me, darling” He whispers, thumb caressing her nipple as wax drips across her sternum. She catches a finger in her mouth and nips at him, earning a gravelly growl as he presses two digits against her lips. She sucks them in like her life depends on it, teeth closing around a bite every time he spills more.

The sting of the rope and the molten fire trickling down her breasts shred her mind into ribbons, lungs heaving for oxygen as she tries to hang on. She can hear him everywhere, cool breath tickling her skin as he whispers filthy affections into her ear. Her body simmers beneath the pain of the wax and the lightness of his touch as breathing normally becomes a herculean task.

She weeps beneath the fabric covering her eyes, tears sinking into her scalp as a few scorching drops roll down the plump planes of her stomach. Every sear against her skin has her softly pleading his name through the tadpole, surprised to feel their bond strengthen as breathless whines spill from his lips and he experiences the melted bliss of the wax as if it were grazing his skin.

“You look lovely…” He whispers to her, a fresh drip landing on her clavicle to pool against the hollow of her throat. She reacts to him with feeling alone, pulling at her restraints as she rolls her hips against him.

“A-astarion…” Her voice barely passes from her throat, nothing more than a hoarse whisper.

“Ofelia,” He croons, both hands back on her body now. He must have set it down or blown it out, and she sighs in relief as he drifts over the cool, hardening liquid against her skin. “Like you’re covered in blood,”

She startles when the blindfold slides off, disoriented and struggling to keep his face in view as everything blurs together. Through her daze, she looks down to appreciate the deep wine hues of the wax covering her body like pretty splatters of the sanguine liquid he’s so fond of. He leans down to softly cradle her face in his hands and she gazes up at him, eyes glancing off his flushed cheeks, his pupils eclipsing the pools of flaming red as he captures her lips in a kiss full of sharp teeth and earnest, sweet sighs.

She shivers when he moves her thighs apart and sinks between them, cock sliding against her wet slit before dipping further to brush her clit with each pass. Her fingers twitch, longing to pull free and touch him everywhere, but the slow torture of him doing whatever he likes to her has her drunk on the feeling.

His to mold, his to take. His, his, his.

His hands run up her arms and she feels the rope slacken, allowing her to remove them and linger over the pretty red marks crisscrossing her skin. Her affectionate eyes find him and he kisses her again, breath stolen from her lungs as her body yearns to press against him, like this forever if she were allowed. Her arms wrap around his neck and he slides inside her slowly, little noises mixing on their tongues as he bottoms out and they both exhale in relief.

“You always feel so good, Star,” She murmurs in his ear as he presses his nose against the side of her face. A rumbling growl vibrates against her chest and she smiles, feeling him kiss the drying tears near her temples. “So good,” He groans and finally thrusts, hard, earning a sweet gasp in return.

The inferno burns hotter in her belly, every drag against her walls leaving her desperate for more of him to cling to, to kiss, to touch. The bruising grip he has on her hips leaves her dizzy in the wake of his tender kisses, and she strengthens their bond to share the feeling with him. His pace stutters to a halt, each muscle rippling in a struggle to hold back as his eyes fall shut and he bites his lip to suppress the guttural noise catching in his throat.

“You can’t,” He pants, moving involuntarily and she watches a full-body shiver run through him at the sensation.

“Let me,” She pleads, propping herself up on her elbows to gain leverage, and with it, she pushes him down on his back against the soft blankets. She clambers on top of him, wanting him back inside, but she represses the instinct to softly caress the planes of his chest. He shivers, looking up at her, and once she confirms his consent, she moves her hands over her breasts and touches them like he does.

“Nng… Ofelia…” He whines, hands slipping over her hips. The way his features twist in pleasure and his body curls towards her has her mind spinning, flush with the feeling of him.

She wants to make him feel just as good as he makes her feel, wants him to enjoy every moment, as she always does, forever grateful that he'd chosen to share the pain of his past with her and trusts her with it enough to embrace her in this way. She'll hold it all in her heart, for as long as he'll have her, and longer still if he chooses to bury any of it with her once she's gone.

“You're not going anywhere,” He mumbles, eyes stuck on her. She smiles adoringly, running her fingers over his lips before she sinks to kiss him.

She can hear her heart race through his ears, sharpened by his abilities. She runs her hands up his arms, worshiping every square inch with soft fingertips and eventually her mouth, too. Every noise that he makes sinks her deeper, reveling in the way it all reflects on her body and sends tingling pleasure across her skin. The Astarion she knows, with his haughty attitude and snide remarks, falls away beneath her touch and she can’t hide the pride that tears through her mind, knowing it’s all because of her. Every sigh, every twitch, every whispered plea washes over her and it’s almost hard to tell which moves are his and which are hers.

“Ahh… ahh… slow…” He murmurs and she nods, hovering over him, shaking from the promise of having him inside and wanting it so badly she can hardly breathe. She closes her eyes, sinking her teeth into her lip until the flesh splits beneath them when he finally slips in.

“Gods…” Their voices mix within their minds, and she’s looking up at herself and looking down at him, uncertain which sets of eyes she's supposed to be seeing through. Her vision spins and she grows dizzy, mind melting into pleasure as she forces her hips down in one quick thrust that has her sight leaving her in a flash of light followed by the sweet darkness of her fluttering lashes.

She sways astride him, the sounds he’s making loud and frantic, his entire body pulsing with need and blinding sensation. There’s no way they’ve managed to hide their affairs from the rest of camp by now, but that thought drifts from her mind and vanishes among the unbearable heat building in her core.

“Are you okay?” She whispers, reigning in her sense of self as much as she’s able to while laboring under the feeling of his cock swelling and pulsing inside her. She can’t look at him, eyes shut tight as her thumbs brush over his chest, trying to soothe him into a reply as the ghost of her touch drifts over her skin.

At an unspeakable urge, she opens her eyes to lock onto his, and she digs her nails into his skin at the look he gives her. His hands tighten over her hips and she reaches for the stool behind him, letting her breath out in a rush as he lifts her and slams her back down against him.

“Star!” She tastes iron in her mouth, eyes trained on his and thoughts lost to the void as she rides him. With each thrust she loses the dividing line distinguishing their bodies from each other, feeling the insistent demand to take him deeper, harder- anything to get to the edge. The impressions of his fingers adorn her skin in violet petals, each thrust leaving her trembling as she chants his name in her head. Her gaze seeks reprieve within his as he tangles his fingers in the hair at the base of her skull while the other hand rests over her shoulder, pulling her close as they chase the building heat unraveling them.

“Love…” His voice is raw when he opens his mouth, her fingers tracing his cheek as she tightens her hold on his waist to slow to a less energetic bounce. “I love you.” She blinks in surprise, the phrase rare and sweet in her ears- one he never utters frivolously. Thoughts of him dapple her vision, a recollection of every moment she’s felt so sincerely in love with him. She melts into a breathless laugh, smitten beyond the point of no return as they fade back into precious memories, edges tinged in hues of warm pink.

“I love you too,” She sighs, kissing him once before peppering more over his jaw and down his throat. His answering groans have her walls constricting around him as he pulls her against his chest, deep thrusts propelling them closer and closer. She licks a stripe up the side of his neck, reveling in the twitch of his cock inside her before she nips him.

“Ofelia!” It’s just as sweet as she’s always pictured when her teeth sink into his flesh, her neck throbbing at the phantom pain. He stills, lust and roaring heat dancing between their connection as his nails sink into her hips. She reaches down, stealing his hands to intertwine with her own, and rises to resume the punishing rhythm as she dredges wounded cries from deep inside his chest.

The band tightens, walls fluttering when he angles himself and hits the spot that has high-pitched moans marking each upward drive of his hips as she stares into his eyes. His smolder with approval and his hands slip from her own to cover her breasts, kneading the soft flesh and drawing little breathy whines from her mouth. Gods… she could ride him all night.

“I won’t stop you,” He huffs with a smile and she laughs, ending on a needy whimper.

“Need more…” She pleads and he wraps his arms around her back, stealing kisses from her mouth, before stilling her movements and readjusting their bodies. Once he’s settled, she’s perched in his lap, holding onto his shoulders for balance as he lifts her once, holding just the tip inside, before thrusting up.

“Hells…” He sighs, expression contorted as if in pain. “Come for me?” Her eyes fly shut and she nods madly, fireworks bursting behind her lids as one hand snakes between their bodies to rest where they’re intimately connected. Deft fingers slide over her aching clit and she digs her nails into his back as her thighs begin to shake.

“Astarion… I’m so close… please.” She begs, whimpering beneath the soft swirls of his fingers. His face nestles against her neck, fangs hovering over her skin in a vow to pierce and drink and she silently compels him forward, craving the intrusion and the overwhelming maelstrom it provides. Bitten and dizzy, she cries his name, falling apart as he strokes over her and her climax bleeds onto his mind.

His strangled shout is lost amid the flood, following right behind as he spills inside her. He presses them together, shivering and sweaty, the mental thread between them finally severing as they drift in and out of coherence. She caresses his hair, fighting for breath as his lips brush over the punctures in her neck before pulling away.

Heavy-lidded, he appraises her form before softening and she smiles sleepily at him, hooked on the pretty blush covering his cheeks and the blood smeared at the corner of his mouth. As her hands move to his jaw, she grazes the delicate points of his ears until shivers wrack his body and her mouth widens in amusement. He grumbles dramatically before pulling her down to cover her smile with a passionate kiss, hands fisted into her hair as she rocks against him.

“Maybe we should go without for a month next time if this is what I get for it.” She laughs at the disdain on his face, humming softly as his hands run over her breasts and gently squeeze.

“Over my dead body,”

“Star, you are dead.” He lays her on her back, stiff and swelling inside, and she makes a strangled noise in the back of her throat as his lips drop to the shell of her ear.

“Mmm, not happening. I think I'll have you again now,” His teeth catch the tender lobe and her breath hitches, the sweet rolls of his hips drawing more hoarse moans from her mouth.

“Wait… do you hear that?” Astarion stills at her question, quirking a silver brow.

“What?” She shakes her head, listening for any noise but not even the lapping of the water against the docks is audible.

“I don't hear anything…” Embarrassment washes her face in a sheen of scarlet and he laughs.

“I heard Gale cast it thirty minutes ago. Not to worry dear, you can scream as hard as you want when I make you come again. No one will hear.”

“Ughhh!” She covers her face with her hands, shame like a brand heating the surface of her skin. “That’s so humiliating!” He chuckles and resumes his thrusts, apparently serious about going again, and she sighs as her hands fall onto the cushion beside her head.

“Don’t be such a prude, they’ve all heard us before.” She rolls her eyes, gradually forgetting her discomfort as he brings the stars close again.

In their own little haven, separate from the rest of the world- the Absolute, her complicated heritage, and the looming fight to finally free him from his master- the silence shields them from it all. She loses count of how many times they fall apart, the spell from before crumbling before he’s finished with her, but that doesn’t stop him. She holds fast, his neck muffling her sobs as he draws out their bliss with every soft-spoken word and move of his body. He hovers above her when he’s spent, and even as she’s rapidly losing the fight to stay conscious, the smile won’t leave her face.

“We have to get up in a few hours,” Ofelia mumbles, trying to swat him away when he goes to pinch her cheeks.

“Don’t tell me you’re regretting it all,” He laments, expression breaking into those big wet eyes she both loves and despises, mostly because he uses them to get his way.

“Of course not… but I’m going to be exhausted tomorrow, so if I ask you to carry my pack I don’t want to hear it.”

“Deal,” He noses at her neck, soft and sweet as he finishes cleaning them up, and when they curl together under the blankets she presses kisses to his lips.

“What do we do once this is all over… no more tadpoles?” Her question is hushed, posed in such a way that it could lead to a multitude of answers.

He stares at her, wrapped up in his arms, and he brings a hand up to rest against her face. Cool marble against a sun-soaked beach.

“I don’t know. But at least we’ll be together.”

***

Guys- I HATE DRAWING HANDS but please look at this WIP I'm working on. 👉👈

[goldfades]

here’s a few thoughts I’ve come up with

-thinking about more mic’d up clips of manager going viral 😭 she’s worse than Paige and Geno combined when it comes to having “civil” conversations with the refs, going absolutely ballistic when she disagrees with a call

-we all know the whole team runs up managers blood pressure 24/7 but I know for a fact manager never ever gets annoyed with Azzi - manager adores Azzi and literally lights up when Azzi comes into her office or when she gets in the car after manager picks up the girls to go to a team dinner - the rest of the girls (mostly Paige) give manager so much shit for it, saying stuff like “look at how her eyes lit up when she got here” or “how come you get annoyed when I do something but Azzi gets away with it?”

-another person manager relies on very heavily is caroline. we know caroline actually has a heart of gold and is basically the mother of the team. manager and caroline do literally everything together, like tending to Paige when she had her injury (Carol stayed with Paige on campus when she easily could’ve gone home)

-I’d also just love some cutesy fluffy moments between manager and P hehe (whatever ur genius little brain can think of)

here’s my take -- i’m OBSESSED with these thoughts btw:

mic’d up manager: oh, 1000%. manager on the sidelines mic’d up is prime entertainment. like, she’s got the sass of paige, the volume of geno, and the sheer determination to make her point known. the refs don’t stand a chance when she disagrees with a call. the team loves it because she’s usually so composed, but the second she’s mic’d up and fired up? instant viral clip. she probably has a moment like, “oh, i’m the problem? maybe you should open your eyes next time.” then immediately regrets it when the clip makes rounds on social media. 😭

manager & azzi: you’re so right—manager has a huge soft spot for azzi, and it’s SO obvious. azzi’s calm, grounded energy is a perfect counterbalance to manager’s stress, and the way manager lights up when azzi shows up? priceless. the girls tease her nonstop about it too—especially paige, who’s like, “oh, so azzi can spill gatorade on the court and you just smile, but when i do it, it’s a federal offense?” azzi just laughs it off, completely unbothered, while manager tries (and fails) to defend herself.

manager & caroline: the mother-daughter vibes between manager and caroline are so real. caroline is manager’s go-to for literally everything, and they make such a good team because caroline just gets it. especially during paige’s injury—caroline staying back to help, while manager is pulling double duty between the team and making sure paige is okay? that’s love right there. they probably have those quiet moments where they’re catching their breath together after a long day, sharing snacks, and just being.

fluffy manager & paige moments: okay, listen. paige thrives on flustering manager, and her go-to is sneaking up behind manager in the gym, wrapping her arms around her, and going, “you look so cute when you’re stressed, princess.” manager pretends to be annoyed, but the red creeping up her neck says otherwise. also, paige is the type to randomly ft manager while she’s on the road and just talk about the most random things like, “babe, i saw this dog today, and it reminded me of you.” manager is like, “you mean because it was cute?” and paige grins, “nah, because it looked like it was done with everyone’s BS.”

oh, and paige 100% has a playlist she made for manager labeled “for my girl” that she refuses to share with anyone else. manager listens to it every time she’s missing paige on road trips, and it’s a mix of their songs and stuff paige thinks would make her laugh. the softest 😭

[cissyenthusiast010155]

Sinking My Claws Into You ~Dark!Claire Debella xFem Younger!Wealthy!Reader

Summary— A darker fic, set after Claire gets back from Miles’ private island, and she now has to deal with the reality of basically going bankrupt. Luckily, Claire has got her hooks in you, a young, wealthy enthusiast from New York…

Mommy… Master List

Requests & Prompt-List

Warnings: dark fic, lightly implied smut, age gap (all legal), teasing, taunting, manipulation, alcohol consumption, unrequited feelings, little bit of gold digging behavior, praise, flustering, wealth, yucky men, flirting, little bit of sugar mommy behavior, etc.

Enjoy (;

Ever since Claire had backed away from her friendship with Miles, she had hit nothing but impossible obstacles one after another. Without Miles’ endorsement and backing for her campaign for the U.S. Senate, the middle aged woman was facing a fate worse than death. She would have happily rode on the back of Miles’ wealth all the way, but she couldn’t ignore the events that had come to pass. However, her decision now left the woman desperate.

Miles was an eccentric prick whom Claire had met more than 20 years ago. Back then, he had charmed her. And being the young, naive woman that she was, Claire had fallen for his persuasive nature. Not to mention how easy it was considering he was loaded. But Miles never wanted anything more than a friendship from Claire, and Claire eventually was forced to accept this by the amount of pretty models and talented girls that he always had in rotation and the overtly harsh rejection he gave her, which the snob was always happy to remind her of. Over the years, the only reason Claire put up with Miles was for the money. Miles had endorsed her when she ran for mayor, and then now for governor as well.

Miles was always there to dole out a check for whatever the woman needed. And Claire took full advantage of that. The price she paid over the years was well worth the bank she raked in. Miles would compare her to others and batter Claire all the time, she was his favorite plaything. But she always took it with a stoic face, telling herself that it would be worth it, that the amount of money she was getting leveled out the fact that he was a knee-faced jerk.

But then she and Claire had had a falling out. Claire had gone behind her back and stabbed a mutual friend in the back. And if there was one thing that Claire could not stand, it was betrayal. In the heat of the moment, Claire let emotions get the best of her and she broke it off. God she kicked herself for being friends with Miles for as long as she had been… It had been over 2 decades of unhealthy friendship, but in her eyes, the money had made it all worth it. But now, without Miles’ money… She was through. Finished. Done.

That was until she met you.

Claire had met you at an art benefit, one of those fancy events where the rich and wealthy got together, socialized, and gave away millions of dollars like it was nothing. Claire had been there campaigning for more funding and endorsements. She had already talked with three or twelve basic, filthy rich white guys, the kind that flashed toothy smiles while heavily and shamelessly flirting with her. She would indulge these men as little as possible, before moving past them. Those guys weren’t the type she was looking for. They weren't a Miles or a Y/N Astor… Claire rolled her eyes and shrugged off her disgust at the idea of what those rich guys wanted from her.

After a particularly gagging interaction with a young bachelor (at least half her age and nonetheless just as gross as the rest of them who only wanted her body and willing to give nothing in return), Claire had looked around the room, champagne glass in hand, when her gaze had landed on you at the bar. She immediately noticed how the woman carried herself with youthful elegance, and that she was the type of lady who could make anything look good. She could also tell that the woman had money, she was not the type of lady that flattered and flirted with filthy rich men to get into their pockets. She wasn’t a part of the common folk. No, this woman was in the one percent. Her clothing and accessories were not loud, but Claire could read the nicheness of the fashion and knew that she was wearing thousands of dollars: her Manolo pumps, the Cartier watch, the small Dolce purse, etc. This was the type of girl she needed, and she knew this woman could replace Miles and his money. Claire finished her glass, gave it to a server, took a deep breath, put on a smile, and then sauntered over to the stunning lady.

“I would buy you a drink, ‘hun, but it is an open bar…” Claire hummed, glancing over to the wealthy woman with a sly smirk.

You blushed just a smidge, and Claire immediately took that as her first win of the night. This girl was young. Not young enough to not be able to handle commitment, but definitely young enough to fall for Claire’s charm and to agree to hand over her money without a second thought. Again, the perfect mark. While Claire waited for you to make your move, she ordered herself a red wine from the open bar.

“You’re too kind…” you lightly retorted, swirling the expensive amber liquid in your glass.

“And who do I have the pleasure of giving my kindness to today…?” Claire cooed widening her smirk as she now turned her body from the bar to face you.

You slowly swiveled towards the older woman. Claire allowed her eyes to wander and take in the younger woman in front of her. You took a swig of her whiskey, before humming lightly.

“I’m Y/N.”

Claire nodded in satisfaction, taking the glass of red from the bartender when it was ready for her. Her eyes shimmered with predatory intent. She could tell this woman was book smart. But she was confident that she could outplay you in this game.

“I’m Claire Debella. My colleagues call me Debella, you can call me Claire…” the older woman hummed, with a teasing tone.

You sucked in a breath, your face flushing some more, before you nodded lightly.

“Where are you from, Y/N?” Claire cooed, playing with the younger woman’s name in her mouth.

“New York. I went to Harvard, have family in Connecticut” You breathed out, lightly fidgeting with your fingers and your glass while struggling to maintain eye contact.

“Smart girl…” the older brunette cooed, sending a sly wink your way.

Another blush rippled through the wealthy woman’s face. Claire could tell this girl was shy. That was also good, it spoke to her privacy and naivety.

“What about you…?” You softly asked.

“Connecticut.” Peggy promptly responded, before taking control of the conversation once more,

“Are you here alone, Y/N?”

Claire could tell that her words were having an effect on the young, wealthy woman. You nearly choked on her drink at her last words, as well as flushed, fidgeting, struggling to hold eye contact… But not in an uncomfortable way, in a flustered way. In a way where you looked adorable while you were trying to cover her ruby red cheeks in embarrassment. And that was exactly what Claire was going for.

“I am…” you breathed out.

“Really?” Claire cooed, quirking her brow dramatically accompanied by a sip of red, “A stunning girl like you…? I’m surprised that a cute guy or girl hasn’t snatched you up yet…”

Now your face was beet red, and she was desperately trying to swallow all of her liquid courage, overwhelmed from all the praise that the older woman was showering her with. Now the your glass was empty.

“Why don’t we ditch this open bar and go somewhere that has some nice, expensive whiskey for you? Hmmmmm, ‘hun?” Claire purred, leaning in close to the woman’s personal space.

You gulped and nodded mindlessly.

“I’d like that…” you breathed out nervously.

“Good girl…” Claire hummed out in delight.

She placed her glass along with the younger woman’s on the bar, signaling to the bartender that the two of you were done. She then linked her arm with yours with ease and guided you, the clueless, naive, wealthy, young woman out of the expensive, testosterone filled event, getting in the back of your Maserati and heading into a future filled with good fortune for the one and only Claire Debella.

~~~

Claire Debella Masterlist ~Coming Soon (;

[cosmic-crybaby]

Break My Heart Again- Tommy Shelby x Reader

Part 3

Summary: After being childhood friends, you and Thomas made a promise one day to get married, but when he returned from France, he came back a completely different man.

Warnings: Angst, mutual pining, betrayal, emotional manipulation, emotional whiplash.

It was 1919. Over a year since she left Thomas and the betting shop behind. [Name] was stuck in solitude for days, and each day her mother comforted her, easing her daughters cries until she slept. The first person to reach out to her since she had left, was Ada.

"Please talk to me [Name]," She had asked her friend, sitting across from her at the small dining table.

"There is nothing to say, Ada...I can't go back, not now," She picked at her nails anxiously, the deep burgundy lacquer slowly chipping away.

"Believe it or not, it hasn't gone completely to shit, but Aunt Pol is having a hard time finding reliable people to do your job-"

"That's not my job anymore," [Name] reminded her. "Listen I'm sorry...I really am,"

"Where will you go now?" Ada asked. The girl opposite to her thought for a moment, she could be a barmaid but the chances of running into the Peaky boys were high. Jobs for women were scarce now that the men are back. So she just opted to respond with a shrug.

"No idea, Ada..."

Over a year later and she managed to get a job at the local library. It was quiet, of course, but at the very least she was able to put some of her knowledge to good use. It paid well enough for her to live comfortably and it kept her hidden away from running into the Shelby Family. She was just glad she didn't have to resort to becoming a prostitute. Her mother would have a heart attack is that was the case. With the exception of Ada and Polly, who would often drop in to have tea with her and her mother or bring treats and gifts. Sometimes [Name] felt they only offered these gifts as peace offerings, of behalf of what Thomas had done. It was as if they still couldn't forgive him, and they would understand if she couldn't either.

Because in the last year, she had changed.

Physically and mentally. She had grown into a beautiful young woman, the stress of illegal betting and horseracing, the stress of Thomas Shelby had left her life, which in turn rewarded her to grow even more. In only a year, she begun to finally get noticed by the other young bachelors of Birmingham. Little did she know, she had them turning their heads all this time, she was busy with her eyes on someone else.

It was one afternoon when she met her current suitor. His name was Daniel and he was the sweetest man she had ever met. Considering she had only surrounded herself with the three Shelby men and the Peaky boys, that was a big change. While she was working at the front desk of the Library, he requested some aid in retrieving a couple of maps of the world. She didn't pay any mind to Daniel at first until the third and fourth week he had come in, still asking for her help.

"I remember you, I would assume you knew where the maps were by now," She quietly cut him off. This caught him off guard, making him flustered as he tried to search for his words. [Name] only smiled as she watched the dark auburn haired man blush more and more.

"I-I am sorry miss...I just," He cleared his throat. She arched her brow at him for a moment. He was at a loss for words as he admired her beauty. That day he had asked if she'd like to accompany him to some dinner in London, to get to know each other more.

It had been a very peaceful and cherishing month with Daniel, she found that he was a traveling business man and was looking to expand his company in America. But, like all good things it came to an end when Thomas Shelby came into the picture once again. While in London with Daniel, he took her to the shops to buy a new dress to meet his family one night. She had broken away from him as he spoke to the salesman about the dress he was about to purchase. Stepping outside to look at the lightly clouded sky, examining the different shops on the street.

"[Name]?" The voice sent shivers down her spine. She quickly turns at the mention of her name towards the deep voice.

"Thomas?" She asked, surprised to see him.

Seeing the man that broke her heart and betrayed her trust right in front of her eyes was like a whirlwind of emotions. She didn't know if she should stay, run, or beat him until he was blue and on his knees begging for her forgiveness.

But, she was better than that. She was with a man who actually loved her.

"It's nice to see you again," Thomas told her, stepping closer. She subtly takes a step back, clearing her throat as her eyes dart to the shop entrance, praying to God that Daniel will emerge soon so the two can leave the awkward interaction and never turn back.

"Yeah, sure, Thomas..." She nods slightly. Thomas Shelby didn't forget what happened between them over a year ago, but he was perplexed that she would still treat him like a stranger, even after all these years of being as close as they once were. Within that year of missing her by his side, he refrained from showing up at her home to see her, refraining from asking Ada and Polly to tell him what they had discussed when they visited her. Part of him hoped that her and her mother still took those evening walks in Uncle Charlies' yard after dinner. Thomas often found himself at Charlies' yard nearly every night, hoping he would run into her.

But that's exactly what she had avoided. [Name] did everything in her power to avoid every little place and thing Tommy knew about her. IT seemed to work, until this very moment.

"What brings you here?" She asked curiously. Hoping she didn't have to put her favorite dress shop in London on a list of places to avoid Thomas Shelby.

"Just...doing some business in London as it seems...until I saw you leaving the dress shop...thought I would come and say hello," He shrugged. [Name] looked down at her gloved hands, pondering her next words.

"I see...well, goodbye Thomas," She nods once, still avoided his eyes, afraid that once she sees his eyes again, it will start all over again. The warmth he gave her, the butterflies in her stomach, the cure to all of her hardships. She makes hasty steps past him, but his hand reaches out to grab her arm...it was gentle but firm as to not hurt her. He always knew how to be gentle with her.

"[Name], please..." He said quietly. She felt the tears brim her eyes as she slowly turned to him again. Slowly lifting her gaze to his eyes. Once he saw her tears, it was like everything around them had stopped. It was just them two together and no one else.

"What Thomas? What could you possibly want from me now?...After all this time, when I am finally happy you come into my life again, why?" She asked, sniffling as the small tears rolled down her high cheekbones and onto her chin. Her skin blushed, and her eyes were red with salty tears. He was at a loss for words at first.

He gently spoke her name again, reaching down to pick up her hand in his, testing the waters to see just how much she will accept from him. Her hand twitched and nearly jerked away as he slipped her glove off. Feeling the warmth of his skin made her comply. His hands were rough now, from the years of digging tunnels and fighting. She had no doubt that his hands and mind were both distressed.

"I...I'm sorry for how things ended between us...frankly I can't stop thinking about you," He told her regretfully. Her eyes were shining in the dim light of the London sun, the tears glistening as they roll. Each one looking like diamonds.

"You're sorry...After a year you're finally sorry," She almost laughed. Thomas only sighed.

"Yes of course! and...and I regret everything I said, I can't live my life without you, [name],"

"You should have thought about that before you asked me to marry you!" Her voice raised just a bit, before realizing that she was still in public, as to not bring attention to herself. For once, Tommy didn't know what to say next. His eyes darted across her face. Her cheeks were red, her brows were furrowed in frustration, and her lips... Oh those lips he had always wanted to kiss deeper each night upon his return, they were downcast in a frown. He released a sigh when he realized her eyes had not left his this entire time. He knew she still loved him deep down. She just couldn't bear it. His thumb ran over the top of her hand gently.

"I hurt you, I know that now and...There is nothing else I can say other than I am immensely sorry, give me another chance [name], I can prove it to you that I am a new man, as friends or more I need you in my life,"

His words made her lips tremble as she closed her eyes to think and steady her breath. She opened her eyes first before she opened her mouth to speak.

"[Name]?" A voice called, and suddenly the bubble bursts. It was like the busy street surrounding them suddenly became clear again. It wasn't just the two of them in the world anymore. She turned her head from Thomas to Daniel. The man she adored more than anything, as he searched for her. Thomas also managed to sneak a glance at the stranger, and his cold heart sunk a little deeper into the pit, leaving a sour taste in his mouth and a clenched jaw. She looked back at Thomas.

"Think about it," He whispered before walking off.

[Name] stood in her place in stillness as she tried to process what just happened to her. Daniel approached her, smiling widely as he informed her that he purchased the dress and reassuring her that it will look lovely on her for the dinner party with his family. She gave him a small smile before it quickly faded when he looked away from her.

The days leading up to the dinner party, she had thought of Thomas. It was like he himself had infected her mind as she had no more room to think clearly of anything else besides him and the words he spoke to her. But could she really trust him again?

Should she trust him again?

Every day and every night she had spent with Daniel, she tried her best to reciprocate the love he had for her, but somehow something was wrong. She didn't love him the way she loved Thomas. The night of the dinner party, she waited for Daniel to pick her up. Wearing the dress he had bought her, the jewelry she borrowed from her mother, and the hair and makeup she spent hours perfecting just to impress his family.

"What's wring, dear? Your hands are shaking," Her mother pointed out as she helped her daughter prepare.

"I...I don't think I can do this," She swallowed thickly. But before her mother could even ask, there was a ring at the door. [Name's] stomach was in knots and her blood ran cold. Her mothers words of encouragement were drowned out by her own raging heartbeat. When she opened the door, her mouth was agape. Expecting to see Daniel, instead Thomas stood at the front door.

Out of breath and panting. No words were exchanged as they stared at each other. She nearly leaps into his arms as she engulfs him in a tight embrace. It felt right, being in his arms again. Like they were kids again.

The following days, she kept her distance from Daniel, much to her mothers dismay. She had written him a letter.

To my Darling Daniel, I am sorry things had to happen this way. You had shown me the love no man has ever shown me before. But I am afraid I do not deserve it. Our time together was more than I could ask for, but I simply cannot keep loving you the way you want me to. I will forever cherish our memories together in my heart, as you were the only man to treat me a way a woman should be treated. I hope you find love again, and the next woman you find love in will be a very lucky to have you. I will always have you in my heart. [Name].

With the letter, she returned the dress he had bought her, she thought it would be ill-mannered to keep it. She hadn't heard from him after that. Not even a letter back, but she knew why. She would never hold that against him.

The following week, [Name] had began showing her face around the betting shop again. Here and there popping in to talk to Ada and Polly, slipping away into Tommy's office to speak with him when he wasn't busy. It was a but of a shock to the Shelby women when they saw her. They thought she was crazy for showing up again, but she had reassured them that everything was fine.

For months on end, [Name] and Thomas would spend their time together. Hand in hand as they drunkenly walked along the streets after visiting a pub on the weekends. Dancing to records in her home, holding each other close as they slow danced in the fire-place lit room. One night they went to the old hill, the same hill they used to go to when they were kids. Laying beside each other, drinking a bottle of cheap wine as they star-gazed. It was the only place where the sky wasn't absolutely covered by the smoke and smog of the city.

"I forgot how beautiful the sky was at night," She spoke softly as she sat up, eyes scanning the sky.

"It's been a while, hasn't it?" He asked, leaning his shoulder against hers. She takes in a deep breath and lets it out slowly with a nod, laying her head on his shoulder.

"Thomas?" She asked. He hums.

"I missed you,"

"I missed you too, [Name]," He spoke truthfully. That night, they shared a kiss.

A week later, she approached him in his office.

"Pol said you were going to the derby..."

"We are...It's an important matter of business, [Name],"

The girl sighs. "I know that...I also told you I would go with you if you needed me to,"

"No..."

"Uh- no?" She asked, perplexed.

"Absolutely not, Kimber is a dangerous man, you're not coming with us," He argued. She aggressively rolls her eyes and throws her hands up in the air before putting them on her hips.

"I was hoping to come talk to you without being interrupted-" She mumbled.

"And I was hoping you would know better than to ask to join on this mission-"

"Then who are you taking?" She interrupted him, crossing her arms. Thomas sighs, shaking his head in disbelief at her childish attitude.

"The barmaid,"

"The barmaid? Why the fuck would you take the barmaid?" She asked. He widened his eyes at her for a moment. She bit the inside of her cheek as she waited for his response.

"It's all a part of the plan, please trust me," He stood as he slowly walked to her, placing his hands on her shoulders to calm her mind. She pursed her lips, a solemn look on her face.

"I don't care who goes with you to the derby, I just can't sit here and hope you'll come out alive one of these days...I-" She pauses. "I adore you too much, Thomas,"

He pulls her into a tight hug, his hand caressing her hair as he kissed her forehead. "Everything will be okay," He reminded her. Lifting her chin to slowly look at him. Her eyes, as alluring as they were. His lips attack hers in a rough kiss. Pushing [Name] against the wall as her fingers pull at the fabric of his white shirt, his body pressing against hers. She could practically feel his heart beating against her chest. His hands slipping down her body, her waist to her hips to the roundness of her ass. His strong hands gripping every curve of her as he started pulling at her dress with his hands. Pulling away to catch their breath, but before she would dive in for another kiss Finn had burst through the door, inquiring that their Aunt Polly needed to speak to Thomas at once.

Begrudgingly letting him handle his business, she was left alone in his office, blushing and fanning herself with her hands as the heat began to rise, biting her lip in bafflement.

She wanted to see him again and ask about the kisses they had started. What they meant, what would have happened if they weren't interrupted. But Thomas too involved with conspiring against Billy Kimber. Fucking Billy Kimber. Hearing his name made her clench her jaw. He had been the talk of every family meeting since he found his way into Birmingham just weeks ago. But Thomas was just too busy. Too busy to talk to her. Eventually, too busy to even see her as frequently.

She recognized the pattern. It was what happened to her before he left for France. If only she could just read his mind, find out exactly what was going on in that head of his. From seeing him and his eyes, his smile every day, to seeing him at least once a week. This time he would still act the same with her. Kind, gentle, caring, but somehow she knew it was different. He wouldn't touch her, or kiss her like he used to. [Name] thought that maybe, just maybe, if she told him how she felt everything will go back to normal. Perfect even.

She just had to wait for the right moment.

When Thomas had come to her home for an evening tea with her and her mother, she decided that she would tell him then. The tea was nice, the conversations went well. [Name] was eager to finish, to get it all over with, waiting for their moment alone. Later that night, after her mother excused herself to bed, the two sat on the couch, sharing a whiskey as they talked. She sat her glass down when he called her name to get her attention.

"I need to tell you something,"

Her ears and cheeks grew warm as she looked at him, eyes brighter than ever.

"I actually need to tell you something too...but please go first," She smiled. Thomas turned his body slightly towards her, seemingly less enthusiastic as her. Thomas clears his throat before he spoke.

"I want to start off by apologizing for not seeing you as much these past few months, but I promise everything is going to work out for the better in the end, not just for my family, but for yours as well..." He paused, holding one of her hands in his.

"Thomas," She glances at their interlocked hands before looking up at him again. His blue eyes didn't look as bright in the dim lighting of the room.

"You have been with my family since the beginning, and you helped us out when we needed you the most, when everything takes off, I want you by my side through it all, promise me that you will do that for me [Name]," He requested. The young woman stares into his eyes once more and nods silently.

"I can't imagine leaving your side...ever," She stated quietly. Thomas looked down again, smiling slightly. As far as she knew he rarely smiled now...the only time she saw him smile was when he was with her.

"There was another thing I wanted to talk about," He started. She nods, urging him to continue. "There's a woman,"

His voice dropped low, the way he said 'woman' rumbled as her cheeks flushed. At the drop of a pin, her lively face slowly dropped at his words.

"A woman?"

She sank into the sofa as he spoke, but his words fell upon deaf ears. Her mind went numb, buzzing as she blankly stared off into the shadows of the room. He loved her, convinced her to leave Daniel, kissed her, treated her like she was the only woman for him...almost married her. All those years together, meant nothing to him. Once again. She should have known better than to get attached to a man like him.

A man only out for his own good.

"[Name]...You're crying," He pointed out, stopping mid-explanation to wipe the tear. She wanted to tell him. Tell him she loved him, that she wanted nothing more than to be with him for the rest of their lives. She looks at him and smiles.

[Name] shook her head and sniffled, chuckling and looking away to wipe the tear.

"I'm just...really happy for you Thomas...She seems like a nice woman," She didn't hear a word he said about her. The mystery woman that had stolen his heart.

'If only you knew what I felt'

After Thomas had left that night, she went to her room, sobbing in her bed. The heaviness in her chest weighted her down as she was held into place by rocks. The agony she felt, not only for herself but for hurting the only man that loved her. All for nothing. It was too late to go back now.

---

[Tag List]

@mysticalbouquetwolf-posts @milljane @cyphah @diosa-ahre-blog @badlandsbrunette @adaydreamaway08 @namelessghoul0 @deltamoon666 @cherryslyce @calmingmelody96

[writing-rat]

A date With CC Walker

Pairings: CC Walker x Fem! Reader

Content: Fluff, pure fluff!

Summary: You decide to stay with CC after football practice and go on a date with her

WC: 746

It was a cold day, and you were worried about CC. You were in the bleachers in one of her hoodies and a pair of sweatpants and you were cold, never mind the fact that CC was in a jacket with a thin shirt and a pair of shorts. She didn’t even look cold but then again she was focused on the game and improving more even if she was amazing at the game. Every now and then after a goal, she would look at you with a cocky smirk and wink before focusing on the game. She lived to fluster you every chance she could get and she loved it. 

You were just thankful her practice was for an hour so you didn’t have to suffer much and also you didn’t have to worry about CC much for when she was playing in just those shorts. Soon enough, they were done and everyone was going to the changing room. That was when you stood up and waited outside, texting her. ‘I’m inside, outside the changing room door. Can go to your house after then?’ you had texted. You got a thumbs-up in return which was a yes. You smiled gently at the response. After 10 minutes, she came out and looked at you. 

“Hey babe,” she spoke, holding your sides gently and kissing you, her hair wet. She had showered and it was clear. She also had on her blue beanie, blue hoodie and some black sweatpants. 

“Hey,” you responded after the kiss and looked at her lovingly, admiring her. 

“Want to go to a coffee shop before we walk to my house?” she asked. You smiled, nodding. 

“Yeah. A hot chocolate I am assuming?” you teased the girl, nudging into her with a smile. You knew her love for hot chocolate after all. CC just laughed as she was shrugging, 

“I mean… yeah. You want one?” she asked, holding your hand as you were both walking out with each other. You nodded.

“Admittedly, yes. It is cold when you’re just sitting down and not doing sports unlike my special little nerd,” you teased her. CC just glared and slapped your arm but chuckled.

Eventually, you both arrived at the cafe shop, holding hands the entire time and even kissing a little bit. “So 2 hot chocolates right?” CC asked, grabbing her wallet out. “I’ll pay. But yeah,” you answered.

“Nope. I’m paying,” CC demanded which caused you to widen your eyes and nod. You knew how she could get after all so you just accepted it. CC was definitely happy about that.

Once you got your drinks (takeout of course), you started the walk to her house. “Well, get ready to be beaten at Mario Kart,” CC smirked out, causing you to raise an eyebrow and smirk. “Oh really?” you teased her as CC nodded. “Remember the one time I beat you?” you decided to tease her. “Well… you can shut the fuck up,” CC defended herself as she glared causing you to laugh and nod as you loved her. 

“Afterwards we can watch a movie,” you offered. “Even with cuddles?” you added, trying to sweeten the deal. CC just smiled, biting her lip as she looked you up and down. “Do you deserve it though?” CC teased you. You just gawked. “Yes? I, as your girlfriend, should be able to cuddle you especially when you beat me at Mario Kart,” you justified, causing CC to nod. “Alright,” she spoke. “Cuddles and a film after it is!”

-

Once you arrived at her house, you saw how her mom was home. “Miles and Wyatt have gone on a boy's night out,” Jess called out not realising you were there, petting Pickles. “Oh! Hi, how are you?” she asked you, smiling. “Doing good Jess! We will just play Mario Kart, watch a film, and cuddle. Do you trust us with the door closed?” You teased. This time CC slapped your arm hard. “Ow!” You whined out. Jess just laughed. 

“Of course, just call me up if you need food or drinks!” she spoke and you both nodded. “Thank you, Jess,” you thanked her as CC nodded.

“Yeah, thanks mom! Now let’s go up!” CC spoke and smiled at you before you were in her room.

Safe to say you won Mario Kart then watched a film of her choice, when you decided to stay the night. You knew Jess wouldn’t mind and CC deserved the cuddles.

[heyiwrotesomethings]

Hello! I wanna request Shinobu with a s/o (She/Her) that sends her letters very often like every single day as she is on a mission. But one day she just stops writing, Shinobu panics and just sets off to find her to find out she was injured and just treats her while chatting with her because they don’t hang out alot.

On the way back to the Butterfly Mansion, S/O just says ‘I love you’ to Shinobu while she was unconscious. (Note: they are just friends) And S/O didn’t know she said that the next day. Shinobu remembers it and confront S/O.

S/O gets flustered and just ran away and tries to avoid Shinobu which was soon a fail. Shinobu thought she did something wrong and Aoi just had to set them up and S/O finally confess to Shinobu consciously.

(Aoi and the girls are watching from a bush!)

I love your writing so much and have a great day! ❤️

You Were Not Supposed to Hear That

Shinobu Kochou x She/Her Reader

A/N: On Friday I took a really spectacular running fall into some gravel and have just tore myself into shreds. From chin to knees I have fucked myself up🥲. I’m okay, but just thought you all would like to know. But amidst the stinging and aching pains, I was like, it’s been two weeks, I got to get something done so here you go! (Again… don’t really have the energy for editing right now. Hope there aren’t any errors that are too distracting.) Hope you enjoy, thanks for reading! Word Count: 3,066

“Still nothing?”

En fluttered her wings and shook her head at Shinobu, confirming that yet another busy day went by without a letter finding its way into her hands.

“This is starting to become troubling…” Shinobu murmured to herself, looking out the window up at the darkening sky.

(Y/n) was a sayer she had treated a couple of years ago, nothing life-threatening, but she had been out of commission for long enough for her and Shinobu to develop a rapport and parted on friendly terms. (Y/n) would visit on occasion, but more frequently, she would send Shinobu letters. Usually once or twice every two weeks. But now they were approaching the end of the third week without a word and Shinobu was growing concerned for her friend.

“I suppose I should try sending her another letter of my own then. No offense to the poor bird, but her crow is not as reliable as you, En. Will you go looking for her and ensure my letter reaches her once I finish drafting it?”

En assured Shinobu that the letter would be safe with her, then waited patiently on Shinobu’s windowsill, giving Shinobu privacy as she wrote. The Hashira never wrote anything scandalous of course, but En always made sure to give her the opportunity to if she ever saw fit. (Y/n) was one of the very few people Shinobu exchanged letters with regularly after all and given how the letters she received often made her smile so, En thought there was a good chance their relationship could lead to something more and En liked (Y/n), she gave her extra berries and peanuts. The more letters sent between Shinobu and (Y/n) the better, En would say.

As soon as Shinobu secured the parchment to En’s leg, the crow was gone on the breeze of the cool, evening air. Unfortunately, (Y/n) had been a little tougher to find this time around, but she was found nonetheless. Shinobu would not be happy when she heard what kind of shape the slayer was in, however.

“Injured?” Shinobu frowned worriedly while scanning the letter En brought back to her further. She had hoped (Y/n) would tell her more about how badly she was injured, but she hadn’t, instead going into lighter topics such as how nice the Wisteria House that she had taken refuge within. Shinobu sighed and put the letter down on her desk. “Well, you saw her, En. How was she?”

“Broken hand, bruised ribs. A smattering of scratches and bruises, but nothing that won’t heal in due time.” The crow helpfully provided.

“Hmm, I see... Thank you.” Shinobu seemed to go deep into thought then, the concern not leaving her expression. In fact, it seemed to grow into anxiety despite En’s assurances that the other slayer would be just fine. “I think I will pay her a visit then. It’s been awhile since I’ve seen her anyway. Besides, it’s not a bad idea to make sure whoever checked her over caught everything…”

A glint appeared in En’s eye. A promising sign if Shinobu felt compelled to travel all that way just to check on what was essentially just a few bumps and bruises as far as the usual demon slayer injuries go. Shinobu was showing (Y/n) special treatment, but En wouldn’t judge. Knowing how much of herself Shinobu gave others, En figured she deserved to be a little selfish from time to time. Even if that selfishness was still technically for someone else’s benefit.

And so, Shinobu packed a light bag, jaunted over to the closest train station and hopped on a train that would go through the city (Y/n) was recuperating in. The look of elated surprised on (Y/n)’s face when she looked up from her book to see her standing there and knocking on her doorframe made Shinobu’s mood brighten substantially.

“Shinobu! What are you doing here?” (Y/n) asked excitedly, quickly closing the book and shoving it aside.

“Oh, you know,” Shinobu moved to sit on the edge of the bed, “I was in the area so I thought I’d drop by, see how you’re healing up.” She gently took hold of (Y/n)’s casted hand, scrutinizing it to make sure it put together with care. “So, how are you?”

“I’m doing alright. Kind of achy and sore, a little tired, but otherwise fine. How about you, how have you been?” (Y/n) seemed excited to know, she always appeared to hang on to Shinobu’s every word. Shinobu was no stranger to such things, but having (Y/n)’s undivided attention felt especially good.

“I’m doing quite well, especially now that I get to have a visit with you.” Shinobu teased. She always loved to see just how flustered she could make (Y/n). It was one of her favorite activities.

“Yeah?” (Y/n) laughed awkwardly, her free hand bunched up in the blankets to serve as a distraction from the sudden uptick of her heartbeat “I’m glad to hear it.”

“Mhm!” Shinobu tilted her head to the side, smiling all the while. She gave (Y/n)’s casted hand a soft pat when the bandaging cleared her inspection. “In fact, you should take the train back home with me. Complete the rest of your recovery with me so we can catch up on all that was too wordy for the letters. What do you say?”

“Really? I wouldn’t want to impose. I’d just be more work for you, having to check my injuries and whatnot.”

“Injuries like yours are like treating paper cuts and grazed knees to me. It’ll be no trouble at all. Come on, I’ll buy your ticket~”

(Y/n) bit her inner cheek, well, far be it from her to miss out on extra time with Shinobu. Especially a direct invitation. Hell, she’d buy her own ticket and Shinobu’s if the Hashira asked her to.

“If you’re certain, then I’d love to come along.”

“Wonderful,” Shinobu patted (Y/n)’s shoulder and then slid off of the bed. “Let’s get you packed up then.”

Before (Y/n) knew it, she was all packed up and on the next train to the station closest to Shinobu’s home. It didn’t take much time or exertion at all, but she did find herself drifting off once they were settled in their booth. After maybe the fifth or sixth nodding off and then jolting awake, Shinobu chuckled.

“You can rest. I don’t mind. I know how to keep myself entertained.” She said, taking a book from her own bag and waving it back and forth.

“Sorry, I really wish I could stay awake.” (Y/n) yawned.

“It’s no trouble. Rest, you need it.”

“Thanks…”

It didn’t take long before her head to find itself against the booth’s edge. She was out like a light. Shinobu hummed in amusement and then flipped open her book. Before she could even make it to the bottom of the first page, (Y/n)’s head tilted the opposite way and ended up on her shoulder, a nonsensical mumbling falling from her lips as she pressed in a little closer.

“This is unusual.” Shinobu chose to rest her head atop (Y/n)’s and poked the sleeping girl’s cheek gently. “I can’t wait to tease you about this later.”

(Y/n)’s face twitched and she unconsciously rubbed the spot Shinobu had poked with a tired grumble. She hid her face after that, almost between Shinobu and the booth. A quiet sigh of Shinobu’s name left her, and then,

“I love you.”

Shinobu blinked. Had she heard that right? Of course she did. Compared to the other mumblings, that utterance was clear as day.

What a sweet sentiment, even if it was said unconsciously. Shinobu’s expression softened, but only for a moment before a glint of mischief shone through.

“Oh the ammunition you’re giving me, (Y/n) and you don’t even realize it.” She smiled. “Sleep well for now, while you can.”

***

The train rolled to a stop and the steam hissed, jerking (Y/n) awake. She straightened out and swung her head to the right and then to the left, almost bumping noses with Shinobu.

“Ah!” (Y/n) pulled back, almost falling off of the seat and into the aisle. “Sorry.”

“Nothing to apologize for, (Y/n).” Shinobu assured. “Let’s go home then, shall we?”

“Sure.”

They left the busy station together and began their walk back the the Butterfly Mansion. When they noise of the crowd died down, (Y/n) spoke.

“Sorry for sleeping through the whole trip. I hope you weren’t bored.”

“Trust me when I say I was thoroughly entertained, (Y/n).” Shinobu assured with a smile that was a tad too mischievous. “Did you know you talk in your sleep?”

(Y/n) felt her stomach drop. Oh god… what had she said? Something embarrassing no doubt from the look Shinobu was sporting. How mortifying!

“And you were quite cuddly too. You were hugging my arm at one point even.”

Agh! Could it get any worse?!

“Well—! It’s pretty normal for people to do things like that in their sleep. It’s all dumb and meaningless stuff you know.”

“Dumb and meaningless? (Y/n), you wound me.” Shinobu rested the back of her hand against her forehead. “Is that how you really feel?”

“Well, yeah!” (Y/n) doubled-down. “It’s not like I know what I’m saying while I’m asleep. Whatever I said didn’t mean anything and you shouldn’t hold it against me.”

“Oh, so when you said you loved me, there wasn’t any truth in that sentiment? You didn’t mean it?” Shinobu carried on as usual, she didn’t seem hurt. She still found the incident funny. She didn’t need (Y/n) to be in love with her, all she needed to know was that they were friends. That was good enough for her.

(Y/n) felt the sudden urge to scream out of sheer embarrassment, but she held it in. Obviously based on Shinobu’s demeanor she was still only playing around, but what was she supposed to say to that? She was a terrible liar!

“Well—!” She fumbled a bit, trying to find the words she needed, “That’s not anything groundbreaking! You know I love you like… a normal amount.”

So inconspicuous! What a wordsmith! Brava!

“Is that right?” Shinobu smirked, a quiet laugh leaving her lips. “What exactly is a normal amount to you, (Y/n)? Please, I’d love to hear all about it.”

(Y/n) felt uncomfortably warm, nervous, like she was going to throw up if she tried to say anything else. Shinobu noticed this and was going to let (Y/n) off the hook right away, but then voices from a little further down the path made both of their heads turn.

“Oh! Shinobu-sama, (Y/n)-san, hello!”

A butterfly girl brigade soon appeared from further up the path, all five carrying baskets of various vegetation.

“Hello, girls thank you for your hard work.” Shinobu thanked the girls sincerely for holding down the fort while she was on her impromptu journey. She was then caught up on all the notable things that happened while she was away and at some point during the midst of that…

“Hey, where did (Y/n)-san go?”

Six heads swiveled around to look at their immediate surroundings to find that (Y/n) had inexplicably vanished from the group. They all called out for her and searched the nearby woods, concerned that she would up and leave without a word.

When their search yielded no result, they went back to the mansion to form a search party out of Kakushi, but fortunately, Goto told them they had nothing to worry about.

“Oh, I saw (Y/n)-san arrive not too long ago.” He said, Shinobu’s body relaxed, a quiet sigh of relief left her.

“That girl,” Aoi huffed, “Where is she now? I’d like to give her a piece of my mind.”

“Ah, well,” Goto rubbed the back of his neck, “she’s around… I may or may not have been asked not to tell anyone where she is within the mansion for now.”

“What?!” Aoi through her arms up in exasperation. “Of all the childish— we just spent half an hour combing the the nearby woods for her when she vanished suddenly. She has some explaining to do, because making us all worry like that is unacceptable!”

“It’s my fault.” Shinobu sighed, making all eyes turn on her, “I pushed her too far, teasing her over something she had no control over. She must have slinked off while I was distracted because she knew she’d never be able to avoid me otherwise.” She guessed a bit contritely.

“Shinobu-sama, what could you have possibly been teasing her about to cause this mess?” Aoi asked, arms crossed.

Shinobu shook her head. “I don’t believe it’s my place to say. I promise I shall apologize to her the first chance I get. But for now, let (Y/n) have some time to herself, and please don’t be too upset with her for running off.”

Shinobu caught sight of the time, telling the girls that for the time being she’d be in her lab. She thanked them again for their hard work, and apologized for their wasted search before walking away.

“I wonder why this happened.” Sumi pondered.

“Oh, I’ll tell you what happened.” Aoi said confidently, “I bet (Y/n) finally said something unintentionally to let Shinobu-sama know how much she actually likes her and in true Shinobu-sama fashion, she fumbled the moment of vulnerability for a joke. Well, I’m not letting this foolishness carry on for a minute more. Will you all help me find (Y/n) so we can get this all sorted out before it gets even more awkward between them?“

All of the girls agreed with a round of exclamations and nods. Soon they were combing through the estate. After some time, Kanao was the one to bring back word that (Y/n) was sitting under Victory, watching the cherry blossoms flutter around her wistfully.

“Thank you, Kanao, I’ll take it from here.” Aoi said, already walking briskly towards the tree, startling (Y/n) from her gloomy thoughts. “Don’t you dare try running away from me, (Y/n).” She warned.

“I-I’m not.” (Y/n) put her hands up defensively. “…Did Shinobu send you? Did she tell you what I said?!” She added hastily.

“No,” Aoi sat down beside (Y/n) with a harsh exhale, “She didn’t need to tell me anything because it doesn’t take a genius to figure out how in love you are (Y/n)-san, so just accept the help I’m trying to provide you, alright? Shinobu-sama seems content to give you space for now, but I know once you two decide to make up, you’re just going to pretend nothing happened, so you better confess properly when I get her to come out here, okay?”

“W-what?! No, I couldn’t—“

“Yes you could! Are you really going to let this go on forever? That would just be sad and annoying considering everyone knows you two love each other. Be a woman and ask her out!”

It took some convincing, but Aoi had finally gotten (Y/n) to a place where the idea of honestly telling Shinobu she had romantic feelings for her wasn’t going to immediately make her throw-up from nerves and so now all Aoi had to do was get Shinobu out there as soon as she could before (Y/n) got cold feet and ran off again. Some people enjoyed playing matchmaker, but Aoi found the whole process rather annoying.

She all but shoved Shinobu out of her lab and pointed her in the right direction, making sure the Hashira was heading that way before quickly working around the mansion to join the other girls watching excitedly from the bushes to witness the fruit of her labor.

She arrived just in time to see Shinobu sit beside (Y/n) beneath Victory’s vibrant petal-laden branches. What a beautiful place for a confession of love. The mood was set.

“(Y/n),” Shinobu spoke softly, “I’m sorry I—“

“You don’t have to apologize,” (Y/n) cut her off, “I know you didn’t mean to make me uncomfortable.”

“But I did. Definitely not to the degree that I did, but I wanted to see you squirm a little. I didn’t mean to cause you anxiety and I do apologize for that. But please,” Shinobu moved to rest her hand atop (Y/n)’s, “if the time comes that I overstep again, please tell me that you would like some time to yourself instead of leaving without telling anyone. I was worried when I couldn’t find you.”

“I will, I promise. I’m sorry for worrying you.” (Y/n) looked down at their hands in the bed of fallen petals and took a deep breath, “Shinobu, can I tell you something?”

“Of course.”

“I… I really do love you, but… it’s um…”

“Not a normal amount?” Shinobu couldn’t help but tease.

“Right,” (Y/n) flustered, “but it might be less than a normal amount if you keep that up.”

“Sorry, dear,” Shinobu didn’t look sorry in the least, “please continue, I’m all ears.”

(Y/n) sighed quietly, “I like you a lot more than I’ve ever liked anyone so would you maybe be interested in going on a date with me sometime? Of course, you don’t have to if you don’t want to. I know how busy you are and I don’t expect you to agree even if you aren’t busy. I’m happy being friends. Friends is just as good—

A range of gasps and squeals came from the bushes as Shinobu leaned in and planted a bit quite chaste kiss on the corner of (Y/n)’s mouth. She barely pulled away before speaking, keeping their bodies close.

“I’m sure I can carve out some time soon. I did shrink off some duties to hop on a train to see you once already after all.”

“I, I thought you said you just happened to be in the area…” (Y/n) murmured, still light headed from the near head-on kiss.

“I lied!” Shinobu smiled, not an ounce of shame detectable.

“You jerk!” (Y/n) threw caution to the wind and tackled Shinobu completely to the ground, “Just how many of those coincidental run-ins were actually coincidental?”

“Very few.”

“Shinobu!”

An amused exhale left Aoi as she watched the two women laugh together.

“Alright, I think we’ve seen what we needed to see. Come on everyone, back to work.”

Some of the girls seemed a little disappointed to be leaving, but hearing the sounds of joy still lighting up the courtyard as they made their way back inside brought smiles to their faces.

[heroes-among-us-all]

hello! could i request for hcs where bakugo has a clingy babbly girl who always bugs him by following him around (bonus points: THEY'RE NEIGHBORS) and says she loves him all the time but he always just scoffs and ignores her then one time she ends up giving up or getting hurt and ends up distancing herself in the process and he starts to seek her out oMg you can take it from there IM JUST SO HAPPY YOUR ASK BOX IS OPEN YOURE MY FAVE BNHA IMAGINE BLOG AHH

I made this into a scenario instead of headcanons. Hope that's ok!

From the moment you moved into the house across from his, you'd already decided that you would stick to Katsuki like glue.

You just couldn't help it. After all, he stood out from the rest (even if it was in a bad way at times), which made it almost impossible for you to keep your eyes off him. He was headstrong and brave, not to mention incredibly attractive. Before you'd realized it, you were crushing on him hard.

But being the kind of person that you were, it didn't occur to you to try and hide your feelings. Instead, you clung to his side and made sure to seek him out at every available opportunity. You were incredibly thankful to have made it into U.A, because it allowed you to see him during class as well.

At the beginning, Katsuki thought you would give up and get bored of pestering him after a while. He clearly didn't seem to realize just how strongly you felt about him.

No matter how often he scoffed at you or told you to get lost, you were still right there, grinning at him ear-to-ear.

"I love you, Katsuki!"

Words that the average person struggled to say fell from your lips without so much as a second thought. The first time Katsuki had heard you say you loved him, his eyes had gone wider than ever. He even wondered if you were just playing a prank on him or something.

She's such an idiot, he thought. She doesn't even mean that. It's so dumb.

He'd long since convinced himself that you were just some ditzy girl without a serious bone in your body. That was why, even when you kept on insisting that you loved him - more than anything, as you so often stressed - Katsuki didn't take it to heart. He never stopped to actually consider that you were telling him the honest and unfiltered truth.

Until the day you got upset with him.

"Quit it with that sappy shit," he snapped. "I'm tired of hearing you spew the same garbage all the time."

It was just like any another day. You were clinging onto his arm and gushing about how much you loved him. As much as Katsuki wanted to say that he'd gotten to used to this by now, the truth was that he hadn't. Every time you hugged him or got extra close and said those kinds of things, he could feel his chest getting tight and his cheeks burning. Even if you were just running your mouth without meaning what you said, it was still embarrassing as all hell. And despite what most people probably thought, he did get flustered.

That was why he lashed out at you. He was fed up with being the only one to get worked up while you said all that stuff without even batting an eye. It wasn't like he actually disliked you or anything. Far from it, in fact. Even if he wouldn't admit it, you were the person he considered closest to him.

Perhaps that's why he felt comfortable speaking brashly. He'd always done it until now; why should today be any different?

Needless to say, dejection was quick to sweep across your face. You looked weary all of a sudden. You weren't smiling the way you usually did.

"Okay," you said softly. "I'm sorry. I just thought... I don't know. But I'm sorry. I should've taken the hint by now."

From that day onward, you didn't say a single word to him. You breezed past him in the hallways without so much as glancing his way. You didn't bother asking to walk home with him the way you usually did. Even when your parents came over to hang out at Katsuki's place - since your families were on good terms - you didn't come along with them. You purposefully stayed home, as if you no longer wanted anything to do with him. You were avoiding him. Did you not like him all of a sudden, or what the fuck?

Katsuki had always been stubborn, even as a child, so it took him a while to come to terms with the fact that he missed having you around. He missed having you cling to him and smile like you didn't have a single worry in the world. He missed seeing your cute face and feeling your arms wrap him in a hug.

Katsuki had liked you back for a while, but he was just too hardheaded to see it.

After finally coming to the realization that having you around was something he wanted, Katsuki did what he'd never done before and sought you out himself.

He managed to corner you during lunch, in the cafeteria, so that you couldn't try and pull a fast one on him. As expected, you refused to so much as meet eyes with him, but when Katsuki put his mind to something, he couldn't be deterred.

"You're done ignoring me," he frowned, grabbing you by the hand. Even though you tried to protest, he held on tight. "I need to talk to you. Aren't you going to hear me out?"

Katsuki didn't even realize it, but his gaze was nowhere near as confident and assured as it usually was. In fact, it was almost as if his eyes were pleading for you to stay. He really, really wanted you to stay with him.

Luckily, you'd always been the better person. Certainly a better person he was.

You nodded slowly. "Alright. Let's talk."

Relief couldn't even begin to express what Katsuki felt. For a moment, he thought he might faint from the stress. He was worried that you were seriously done with him for good. But you were giving him another chance, and this time, he wasn't going to screw it up.

Katsuki gripped your hand as tightly as he could while the two of you walked out of the cafeteria together. His eyes scanned the surrounding area, searching for someplace quiet and secluded. Confessing his feelings was actually a much more frightening thought than he would've liked to admit, but you were special to him. For you, he could set aside his petty pride.

After all, you were worth it.

[evita-shelby]

12 Days of Smuffmas:

December 17th - tinsel and talking dirty(Bucky Egan x Diane Shelby)

part of the Paper Moons series

cw: dirty talk, dominant!Bucky, mentions of nightmares, sex as coping mechanism, reference to ye olde vibrators and dildos, couch sex, mentions of baby fever

He used to try and dream what his life after the war would look like, what a life with Diane would look like.

Sometimes they’d stay in England in that beautiful townhouse in London with him doing fuck knows what and mooching off her parents. They’d live lavishly, without a care in the world and forget the hell they’d lived in during the war.

His Lady Di had lost her little brother during the blitz, a boyfriend in the Mediterranean and enough friends to remind him some German girl had lost the same thanks to him.

He’d wake up from nightmares where Di’s buried in the rubble, tortured by Nazis for the crime of being of two races or just gone. Bucky still gets them, along with the ones of what happened to him and the others in the war.

Struggles to sleep so much he dozed off in the couch this afternoon when they were supposed to start decorating for their first Christmas together in this quaint house in a well-off neighborhood where her folks are to visit.

“Did you sleep well, sleeping beauty?” Di asks carefully placing the tinsel that’s gotten everywhere except the fucking tree since they got it.

“Like a baby.” John stretches and stays where he is as he watches his tiny wife balance on a step stool decorating the tree exactly how she envisioned it in that strange mind of hers.

Her hair is shorter, just over her shoulders and bouncing as she turned her attention to him and then back to the tree. Knows when he’s lying with just one look, but his answer doesn’t ring off any alarm bells and she resumed her work in artfully placing the fucking tinsel on the pine tree they picked out yesterday.

“Would you help me get the tree ready?” she asks but he shook his head preferring to watch her do her work unimpeded. Reminded him the Diane in his nightmare last night was just a figment of his fucked-up imagination.

This Diane hadn’t been killed by a bomb while he was away, this Diane hadn’t been put where all the dead go and left only the necklace he brought her back from Algeria. No, this Diane was alive, in one piece and wearing the necklace that matched her wedding ring.

“Like the view too much to change it.” Bucky has another way of reminding himself the dreams aren’t real, but he thinks it would be good to wait until she’s done. Once he tried to interrupt her doing inventory at the base to fuck her between missions and his Lady Di was cross enough with him to leave him hot and bothered before his mission.

Flew back to base in record time just to get his revenge on his English Witch. They’d done it like beasts, on the cold grass, against their tree and even on his bed before the rest of the officers returned to their quarters.

They fucked on Buck’s bed, almost as if foretelling he’d become more than their cherished friend.

“What are you thinking, Bucky?” the witch knows exactly what he’s thinking, can tell when he’s having filthy thoughts about her even when they’re not even in the same country.

He used to get letters mentioning how his dirty fantasies would reach her in England and how she’d fuck herself with the fake cock wishing it was him fucking her blind.

“About that toy of yours you used to love so much.” Bucky’s gotten her a better toy to replace it having lost it in the move here.

The blue-eyed man remembers that toy too fondly, remembers how fucked out she was that she agreed to invite Buck for his special birthday fuck. “And how I got that fancy oil just for my Lady Di, ‘cause her first ass fuck needed to be done properly.”

She gets flustered when he talks dirty to her, so flustered she gives up whatever she is doing so Bucky can make those words real. “Then why haven’t you used the one we got a couple of days ago, love? Good fucking keeps your nightmares away, you know.”

“It’s a surprise, princess. If you’re naughty, it’s gonna stay unopened for much, much longer.” He threatens playfully knowing the moment the door’s shut behind their families the mystery gift will be unwrapped and used with great appreciation.

An improvement to the fake cock, this one vibrates for better…massaging. The department store lady had gone beet red when a far too cheeky John Egan had pointed at it and asked how much it cost.

“A shame, maybe I want to be bad.” His English girl teases and bends over to pick up some of the tinsel on the tree skirt.

If Di didn’t want to be fucked in the tinsel covered living room maybe she wouldn’t have worn that short blue dress knowing it would give him a fantastic view.

“Panties off, Di, if you want to be bad at least give your hard working husband a good view of the pussy he killed Nazis for.” The newly minted Lieutenant Colonel orders knowing its exactly what she wants.

She wants a baby, seen it in the cards they’ll have one next year and the disappointment of the all-night birthday sex not resulting in a pregnancy to announce at Christmas had her ravenous. Bucky’s surprised he had a nightmare last night when they’ve been at it like rabbits.

Not that he minds, John Egan has yet to get tired of fucking his girl. He doubts he ever will, he thinks as his wife removed her flimsy and lacy panties before tossing them to him.

“Anything else, Bucky?” the witch asks loving this game they play.

“Not yet, though I bet I can get you to leave the tree and climb me instead.” He fucking loves this game too.

John talks dirty, Diane tries to finish whatever she’s doing and then they see how far she gets before she’s too aroused to think of anything but wanting to jump his bones. First time they played he’d gotten injured enough to need Nurse Shelby’s tender loving care and been rewarded with a frantic fuck in a supply closet.

 “Can even keep the dress on if you like, looked good when Buck and I fingered you on the cab ride to the train and looks good on you know.” The memory of that day the left the base will stay with him forever as will the way he gets hard when she wears it.

Couldn’t get through a church service once because he wanted to get her to take the Lord in vain as she bounced on his dick in the car with some bullshit excuse no one bought.

“You tasted so good on Buck’s fingers, almost as good as your pussy tastes in his mouth.” John goes on as his Lady Di bites her lip and nearly drops the piece of tinsel in her hands. He’d help her decorate the rest of the tree, once she gives up or finishes putting all the tinsel she claims the fucking tree needs. “I'm gonna fuck him hard as he eats your pussy on the dining room table, maybe Marge will come too, and you show her why we love your mouth so much. Wouldn’t that be fun? Show her nothing’s wrong with the way we love.”

“Shame I lost the fake cock on the move here, I could have fucked her that way too. Like we did with that performer we both wanted so badly.” Lady Di reminds him of that singer with the big tits who entertained the troops one night and got fucked hard by Di’s toy while she tit-fucked Bucky in her dressing room. The Performer had left England with a very fond memory of Lady Di and Major Egan.

“We could always find you another one. A better one, if you stop ignoring your husband and be a good little wife to him.” How she hasn’t figured out he got her a vibrating fake cock is beyond him; he never gets anything past the witch.

“I’m always a good wife to you, love.” Di laughs and yet leaves the tree alone to come and climb onto his lap. She kisses him sweetly and holds onto him as he sat up getting comfortable for something much better than decorating a Christmas tree.

“Especially when your wet and ready to go for daddy.” Bucky let her free his little soldier from his pants as he undid the fastenings of her dress. He’d said the dress would stay on, just not how.

His English girl takes him all in and takes his hand to the slight bulge his cock gives her while they fuck hard and loudly not giving a shit the neighbors can hear them fucking. “How couldn’t I be when I hear your filthy thoughts as clearly as if you say them?”

Mind-reader, too.

“Suppose I gotta make those words a reality, can’t have you thinking your man is all talk, Lady Di, can’t I?” John’s grip on her hips grows tight as he thrusts up to meet her hips and goes as deep as his princess can handle. They’re good together, like a good duet making sweet music even if Buck’s not often here to make it a trio.

There’s tinsel on the fucking couch, but it doesn’t matter when Di locks her tan legs behind his waist until they both come hard and fast while everyone else goes on about their afternoon outside. Bucky stays inside her, content to be buried in her cunt and home where the war never touched a damn thing. They used to fuck to the sound of bombs near and far, to the sirens of ambulances seeking out the injured and planes coming and going.

He used to talk dirty to her while taking shelter from the air raids, as she checked him for injuries and patched him up if need be. Now he tells her filthy things in peace and quiet where there’s nothing actively trying to kill them.

John Clarance Egan has no fucking clue what he did to get a woman like her. “Don’t fucking know how I got you to notice me when you had your pick of the litter?”

“You talked dirty and fucked me blind against a tree, remember?” Her words are just as breathless as his and kissed him harshly like her life depended on him.

[amethystunarmed]

I Need a Shovel to Love Him

Word Count: 4,226 A03 Link Richie calls Peter after the events of the opening night of Workin' Girls.

~~~

Holy fucking shit.

Peter is about to lose his virginity to Stephanie Lauter. 

They are on the couch in Peter's brother's apartment. Ted is gone for the evening, went to Ruth’s musical at the Starlight, but he had thrown a condom at Peter with a wink before he left. Peter was equal parts mortified and grateful.

By pure luck, Peter and Steph had managed to avoid getting tickets the same night Ted was going, giving them an opportunity to finally go all the way. They are making out on the couch, Steph straddling him while he gazes up at her in awe. Neither of them are wearing their shirts (Peter has come a long way from the first time he saw Steph in her bra and got so flustered he had to stop. He's just lucky she thought it was both hilarious and adorable). Her skin is hot against his, and when she trails her fingers down his spine, it gives him chills. Steph has finally taken pity on Peter, and moved to take her bra off herself, when the phone rings.

Pete sits up to grab it and Steph groans, flopping forward so her head rests on his chest. 

"Are you serious Spankoffski? You're answering your fucking phone right now?"

"I figure if it's my brother telling us he's on his way back because he finally realized the show isn't about sex workers, we'd want to know."

"... You get a pass just this once." She slides off his lap and Peter immediately misses her weight.

Peter fumbles for his phone and is surprised by the name that pops up.

The Power of God and Anime. Richie. 

Peter frowns down at his phone. Richie would rather die than make a phone call. For all Ruth loved talking to telemarketers, Richie about broke out in hives every time he had to make a call. (Between his phobia and Ruth's penchant for making the delivery boy uncomfortable, Peter had been making calls to Pizza Hut for them for years.) Richie wouldn't call. Not unless...

Peter hits the button and brings the phone to his ear, even as Stephanie groans behind him. He slides his legs off the couch and stands as he talks.

"Hey Richie, what's up? Aren't you at the show?"

Sobbing. Richie is sobbing. Peter's stomach sinks. "Richie? Richie, what's happening?"

"Pete?" Steph asks, suddenly concerned. Peter holds a finger up to her.

Richie hiccups. His voice is shaky, so much that Pete can barely understand him. 

"He- he- He went crazy, he killed them-" 

Peter feels like he's had ice water dumped over him.

"Who? Who killed who, Richie?" Peter gets up and grabs his shirt from where he'd thrown it earlier.

"Everyone, he- he-"

"Where are you?"

"The Theater."

Oh thank God.

"Richie, my brother is there, go find Ted, okay?" Ted was a fucking asshole but he would (probably) look out for Ruth and Richie, if only so Pete didn't tear him a new one. "He'll get you and Ruth out of there okay?"

"That's what I'm trying to tell you," Richie says, sniffling, voice hitching. "Ruth and Ted are dead, Peter."

Peter drops his phone. 

He doesn't remember what happens next. He blinks and they're in the back of Mayor Lauter’s limo. Steph is holding Peter's now cracked phone to her ear. Miss Tessburger is prattling on about something but Pete can't understand her. Her words sound like a broken garbage disposal, continually revving but never getting any clearer.

He blinks again and Steph is kneeling in front of him. She sways as they take a sharp turn. She should be wearing a seatbelt, he thinks, inanely.

"Pete, you're scaring me."

Peter doesn't know why. He hasn't even done anything. 

He blinks and they're at the theater. Steph's hand is firm in his, the only thing that keeps him from drifting away. He trails behind her, letting her guide him to the sirens and the flashing lights. Until he sees-

Richie.

Peter loses time again. Suddenly he is sprinting, and Richie is too and Peter slams into him and they fall to the ground and Peter has his fingernails clawed tightly into Richie's vest so nothing can pry Richie away from him and-

He is sitting in the back of the ambulance. A scratchy orange blanket is wrapped around his shoulders. Richie is next to him. He has Peter's hand in a death grip, squeezing so tight Peter is beginning to lose feeling in his fingers.

An EMT is shining a light in his penlight in Peter’s eyes. It fucking hurts. Peter blinks aggressively at him.

“His pupils dilate, I don’t see any sign of concussion. As far as I can tell, Peter here is just suffering from a pretty extreme shock.”

He gives Peter a pitying little smile. Peter wants to knock his teeth out.

“But he’s not responding.” Stephanie is standing off the shoulder of the EMT. She has her arms crossed over her chest, her chin cocked out. It’s the same stance she’d had when she’d stood down Max Jagerman after they first started dating. It means she’s scared. “You can see it, he did it in the car too. Why the fuck can’t he hear us?”

The EMT hesitates a moment, then speaks slowly, like an adult on Sesame Street.

“Sometimes, when someone goes through something terrible, their brain will... take them away for a little. It’s a defense mechanism.”

Peter has already heard enough of this. 

“You don’t have to talk about me like I’m not here.”

“Oh, thank god.” The tension melts out of Steph as she throws herself at Peter’s free side. Her arms wrap around his shoulder and she tucks her head into his neck, like she is trying to get as close to him as possible. “You’re okay. Jesus Pete, never scare me like that again.”

"Pete?" Steph and Peter pull away from each other to look at a Black man in a checkered shirt. He nervously fiddles with a button on the cuff of his sleeve. Peter hadn’t initially noticed him, but he’s pretty sure the man had been standing there for a while. He seemed vaguely familiar, but Peter couldn’t place him. "You're Peter Spankoffski, right?"

Steph pushes over the ambulance, and stands in between him and Peter and Richie. "Listen, if you want a statement, go talk to some other smarmy asshole looking to get famous off this. Try Linda Monroe, she has an affinity for vultures." She is so fucking cool, so brave. Peter thinks he may be in love with her.

Oh my god he's in love with her.

He's in love with Stephanie Lauter.

He wants to tell Ruth, even though she'll ask a million uncomfortable questions. 

He wants to tell Ted, even though he'd give some awful advice about not being tied down.

Peter squeezes Richie’s hand.

"No, no," the man says. "I'm one of Ted's co-workers? Bill. Do you remember me?” The name slots into place. Peter remembers him in the backgrounds of office party pictures Ted had shown him and from when Ted brought Peter to a “Bring Your Kid to Work Day” even before he moved in with Ted full time. He has a recollection of Bill smiling at him from where he had hidden behind Ted, telling him, Richie, and Alice Woodward to all play nice together. Peter gives him a faint nod, which puts Bill somewhat at ease.

“Look at you, all grown up. So tall!” He is studying Peter with a sad sort of softness, cataloging all the changes from that little kid he’d met years ago. Peter wants to find the nearest bridge he can jump off of to avoid this conversation. “I wouldn’t have recognized you if Ted hadn’t had a picture on his desk." 

Peter wonders if he spontaneously developed a latex allergy, it feels like his throat is swelling shut. “He... He has a picture of me on his desk?” 

"Yes, he does.” Peter waits for him to elaborate, but Bill just offers him an awkward little half smile. Which, what the fuck? Did he just come over to here to remind Peter he was going to have to go to his brother’s fucking office and clean out his desk?

“Bill, I don’t want to be rude, but... why are you here?”

“Oh.” Bill furrows his brow at that, like he isn’t actually sure. “We came here together. Ted and I."

Peter squints at him. "Like a date?" He knew Ted had been sleeping around the office (knew too much about it, because his brother was kind of a slut), but he'd been pretty sure he'd been hung up on someone named Charlotte.

"No!" Bill denies, "He- I had an extra ticket, and I- he was the only one who wanted to come." Bill suddenly looked nauseous. "H- he was the only one who wanted to come tonight, and to spend time with me, and the whole night I just-"

"So you're the reason my brother is dead." The whole group snaps their heads to stare at him, even the EMT. He doesn’t know why they all look so surprised. It seems like a pretty logical deduction to make.

Steph wraps her arm around Peter’s shoulder, but she stays standing. He feels small tucked against her side. It feels nice.

Richie gives his hand a squeeze and runs his finger along the side of Peter’s hand. It feels nice too.

Bill sucks in a breath, like somebody stabbed him. Which is fucking hilarious, given the circumstances. He looks at Peter like Peter did something to hurt him. It does not feel nice.

“What? Don’t have anything to say about it? You just said it, you were the reason he was here.” The EMT winces, and Peter glares at him. He wisely decides to fuck off to the front of the ambulance.

“Peter, that’s not- I’m didn’t-” Bill fumbles over himself. Peter isn’t sure what he fucking expected.

“I think you should go.”

“Right, right, but I just wanted to say, if you need anything, you can-” He fumbles with his back pocket and pulls out a wallet, nearly dropping it on the ground. Ted always says that Bill never knows when to drop a subject, and so far, Peter isn’t seeing anything to disapprove this fact. 

“Here,” Bill says, as he holds a white card out to Peter. “My number’s on there, you can give me a call-"

And Peter just wants him to shut the fuck up.

"I said fucking GO!"

Bill jumps and drops his business card. Peter feels bad, but he's too fucking tired to apologize. He slumps against Steph's shoulder. Her breathing feels like a gravitational pull, and he doesn't think he could escape it if he tried.

Bill scurries off, and Peter is grateful. “Fuck,” he groans, hiding his face in the crown of Stephanie’s head. She smells like sweat and that fruity shampoo her dad won’t stop buying for her. “Ted was right, he’s a fucking busybody.” It tears through his chest, even saying his brother’s name. He thinks the only thing that could hurt worse would have been not saying it.

It grows quiet. At least, as quiet as the site of a disaster can be. If he listens carefully, he can hear Chief Sweetly crying about one of the actors or Officer Bailey debating with Grace Chasity over who gets to keep his gun. (He's pretty sure Grace is winning.) The noises of the parking lot combine into a low background, police interrogations and muffled sobbing weaving into a dull drone. The police have turned their sirens off, but the lights still flicker red and blue and white. Peter closes his eyes, and the solid colors flicker across the black of his eyelids. The repetition is soothing, smoothing over the anxious hum that has been blaring a klaxon in the back of his brain. Between the warm pillar of Steph in front of him and Richie’s solid weight across his back, Peter finds his eyes drifting shut.

Richie’s shoulders hitching, however, gets him wide awake in an instant. Peter sits up, away from Steph, and pulls Richie closer to him, so he is angled toward Peter. Silent tears flood Richie’s cheeks. His mouth is screwed up in a crooked line.

“What happened?” Peter asks, frantically looking Richie over. He seemed fine when they arrived, but Peter had just been happy he was breathing, he could have missed something important-

"It's my fault Ruth is dead," Richie weeps.

"What?"

"I killed her, Peter. I killed Ruth." Tears stream down Richie's cheeks.

"I thought you said-"

"I told her to audition! She wasn't going too, she said she wouldn't get in. I'm the one... I'm the reason."

Oh fuck.

"Richie..."

Richie just sobs and latches onto his shoulder. Peter can feel time slipping again and he digs his nails into his palm to stay present.

"Richie, it's not your fault."

"I'm the reason she was here."

The sick feeling in Peter's gut twists deeper. That isn't what he... Fuck. What does he say? What does he say?

Steph sees his hesitation and gets a wild look in her eyes. Her hand flutters to the back of Peter’s neck. Her fingernails graze the skin in a repetitive line, like she is trying to beckon him back. He wonders if she thinks he lost time again. If so, she doesn’t say. She focuses all her attention on Richie. "It's not your fault, okay? You blame the murderer, you blame the theater for hiring this whackjob, you blame God for all I care, but you don't blame yourself for that shit, okay? That's how you drive yourself crazy, and Ruth wouldn't want that, you torturing yourself for believing in her. Okay?" She reaches across Peter and takes Richie's free hand. "Promise me."

"Promise you?"

"You won't blame yourself. Promise me."

"I'll... I'll try.”Steph opens her mouth, most likely to argue, but she is interrupted. From the side of the ambulance, the EMT clears his throat, far too loudly, and rounds the corner.

Steph glares at him, but only says, "We'll work on it.” Richie nods, and  Peter is positive he is counting on her forgetting about it. 

With the EMT back, their closeness starts to itch. Peter can feel him searching them, trying to figure out just what they mean to each other. Peter is pretty sure a vivisection would feel less intrusive.

The three of them untangle from one other. Steph habitually tucks her hair behind her ears, straightening to perfect posture. Even at the scene of a disaster, she maintains her image. Not that Peter blames her. He is sure Dan and Donna will have all sorts of footage from tonight all over the news tomorrow. As a local celebrity, Stephanie will probably get a featured segment. The thought makes him feel nauseous. "Everything seems to be in order!" The EMT says brightly. "I don't think you two need to go to the hospital. Do you three have someone who can take you home?"

"My uncle is coming to get me," Peter lets him know. He looks toward Stephanie and Peter. “He can probably get the two of you too!”

Stephanie's frown deepens. It has been such a common expression for her tonight, Peter feels bad. He has etched so much grief into her face. "But Peter-"

"I'm fine, Steph."

"No you're fucking not. You keep fucking... Leaving."

"I've been here the whole time."

"But you haven't. The lights are on but nobody is home. It's... It's fucking terrifying, Pete."

Oh.

Pete turns to Richie, who nods. His palm is slick with sweat against Peter's. He looks freaked out, even considering everything that has happened tonight, which Peter again feels bad about. He is letting everyone down today. Still... There is one person he can't fail. He can't.

Peter looks up at the EMT.

“Where is my brother?” 

Richie swallows nervously. Peter feels his Adam's apple bob against his shoulder. "Pete...” He says slowly, like Peter just asked if he could move to Clivesdale. “He's d-"

"I fucking got that." He doesn't need a reminder. "Where... Where did they take him. After."

The EMT presses his lips together. “You should let your parents handle that, sweetie-”

“Then it’ll never get done. Where is he?”

“Everyone who was... who had passed before we arrived was taken to the hospital morgue.” 

“Huh.” Images of Ted, pale and expressionless on a silver slab flash through his head. So many nurses were going to see Ted naked. He would have been ecstatic. 

Then Peter is laughing. He is laughing so hard he can’t breathe. Stephanie and Richie are saying something, and they sound almost frantic and someone is shaking his shoulder but it’s so fucking funny Peter can’t stop. Tears stream down his cheeks as he cackles. And at some point his laughs have turned to sobs. They shake his whole body, and he thinks he might be screaming. He falls into Richie, and Richie is sobbing too. He wraps his arms around Peter, and hugs him tight to his chest. Peter can feel wet spots on Richie’s shirt where he is soaking him with tears and snot, but Richie only holds him tighter.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, Pete,” he murmurs over and over into Peter’s hair. A warm weight drapes over Pete’s back, and  Stephanie reaches up to pet through Peter’s hair. 

“Let it out baby, let it out.” Her voice is wet.

Peter isn’t sure how long they sit there, crying. Long enough, that Peter runs out of tears, and he just sniffles through shaky breaths, feeling like a wrung out dish towel.

“What am I going to do?”

“What do you mean?” 

“Where... Where am I going to stay?” His parents were out of the question. Peter wouldn’t go back, even if they wouldn’t just slam the door in his face. Without Ted to pay rent on the apartment... “I’m homeless. Fuck.”

“You can stay with me!” Stephanie assures him. 

“Your dad is going to be okay with that?” 

“Are you kidding? He’ll love it. Taking you in right before the election? He’ll look like a hero.” She scoffs. “He’ll probably claim it was his idea.”

A car pulls into the parking lot, a beat up red Toyota probably older than Peter is himself. The bumper is more rust than metal. At the wheel is the mean barista from Beanie's. She is wearing an expression that Peter has never seen on her before, blatant concern weighing her face. Out of the car, comes Richie’s uncle Paul. He is still in his suit, like he was relaxing at home in a starched shirt and tie. Considering everything he knows about Paul, that probably was the case.

“Richie!” He yells, louder than Peter imagined he could be, “Richie!” His head frantically turns back and forth as he scans the crowds.

“Over here!” Richie yells, standing and waving his and Peter’s conjoined hands. He has backed up, so the lines of their legs are still pressed together.

Paul’s entire body decompresses when he sees Richie, like he is sighing with his entire body. He staggers against the hood of the car, briefly studying himself with his hands, before pushing past it. He cuts the corner too fast, slams his thigh into the headlight, but he doesn't even seem to notice the impact. He speedwalks over to the back of the ambulance, running up to his nephew to take Richie's face into his hands. “Richie,” he gasps, like holding him is the first breath of oxygen he has gotten all night. Something about it makes Peter's already sore eyes sting, and he has to swallow a lump in his throat.

Richie looks up at Paul with a brittle smile. “Hi Uncle Paul. Thank you for coming.” He says it like Paul has picked him up early from a sleepover. Paul doesn't even answer. He just opens his mouth and then closes it, once, twice, then a third time. Then he pulls Richie forward, unflinchingly, into his chest. His shoulders shake.

“Jeez, Uncle Paul!” Richie shrieks, “You're crushing me.” He doesn't fight the hold though, merely wraps his free arm around Paul and squeezes. The hand still holding Peter’s trembles.

The mean barista jogs up to them, finally catching up from where Paul had run off without her. Peter remembers Richie mentioning she and Paul were dating, but Peter hadn't realized they were “Drive me to get my nephew from the scene of a mass murder” serious. Good for Paul.

"Hey kid. How are you holding up?"

Richie sniffs. "Sorry, Emma. I know you were excited to have dinner with Tom and Tim."

"Kid, you don't have to apologize for... For any of it. I'm just glad you're okay." She places her hand on Paul's shoulder. “Babe, you're going to suffocate him.”

“Right, right,” Paul says, distantly. He lets Richie lean away, hands slowly falling, like he is ready to reach out and grab him again at any moment. He glances over, paling at the sight of Peter and Stephanie. He clears his throat as he processes their presence. “Hello Peter. Stephanie.” He says Stephanie's name slowly, like midway through saying it, he realized he wasn’t actually sure he was right. 

She graciously doesn't mention it. “Hey, Mr. Matthews.” Paul frowns, like he always has the few times she's joined them for a study session, but for once doesn't argue. Instead, he turns to Peter.

“Richie mentioned that Ted... Is... Is he, um-”

Peter doesn't have the patience for this. “Ted's dead, yeah.”

Paul gets that same stricken look Bill had, and maybe Peter should be nicer, but to be honest, he just wants people to stop looking at him. Even the fucking barista, who Peter is 99% sure has spit in his hot chocolate, is looking at him like he's a walking tragedy and Peter can hardly stand the writhing weight of their pity.

“Okay... Okay, okay,” Paul repeats, slowly, taking a deep breath. "I'm... I'm sorry for your loss. Ted and I weren't close but... I know he really, really loved you."

It's so impersonal, so distant. It’s a stranger’s eulogy.

It's exactly what Peter expects from Paul. Their mismatched relationship used to be something Peter, Ruth, and Richie laughed at Ted recalling his "best friend Paul" while Paul clearly only tolerated Ted, at best. Ruth had once called it a "tragic, one-sided bromance" and Peter had laughed so hard, milk shot out his nose. But Ruth isn't here. And Ted isn't here. And Paul doesn't like Peter's brother. And Peter can't help but say it.

"Ted called you his best friend." From the way Paul's eyes widen, this is news to him.

"Oh. I... I didn't know he, um, felt that way. I kind of thought he didn't like me."

"Being mean is how Ted shows affection. He learned it from our parents."

"Jesus fucking Christ, Pete," Steph exhales, like the words pain her. She nuzzles closer to his shoulder.

"Speaking of parents,” Paul says, in that frantic way he does when he is trying to change the subject, “are they coming to pick you up?"

"Fuck, I hope not." Peter says, before he can stop himself. He groans. Fuck his filter tonight, apparently he’ll just say anything. Stephanie, Paul, and Emma are looking at him with barely masked concern.

“Peter can stay over, right?” Richie asks, nervously. He still hasn't let go of Peter. Peter can't imagine asking him too.

“Of course,” Paul says and nods toward Peter. Then he looks at Stephanie. “Are you... Are you coming as well?”

“I...” Steph looks between them. “I’m not-” It is the most at-a-loss Pete has ever seen her. “I wouldn’t want to... You guys were... Ruth and I, we weren’t... We only hung out a few times, and... I shouldn’t.” It’s Richie who reaches out and grabs her hand.

“Please, come with us. For Pete, and... for me?” Somehow, tears begin to drip down Richie’s face. (Peter is distantly impressed. He thinks that if he cried anymore, he would crumble into dust.) “You’re our friend, Steph. You are Ruth’s friend too.” He chuckles, and chokes on it. “She was so excited to have a friend who was a girl, you had no idea.”

Steph sniffles a bit. “She was my first girl friend too. At least, the first one who was actually nice to me.”

“Steph...” Paul says. Peter didn’t realize it at first, but his eyes are red. “Even if you think you weren’t as close-” Paul’s voice cracks, “-as you should have been, you get to be sad too, okay?”

“Paul...” Emma says, a twinge of genuine grief in her tone, but Peter can’t bring himself to care about whatever the fuck they are talking about, because Steph is looking between him and Richie like she is waiting for them to say something. Words are fucking impossible but to be honest, Peter doesn’t want to talk anyways. He holds his arms out and Stephanie falls into them. And Peter was wrong, because as Steph silently cries into his shoulder and Richie worms his ways into the hug, shoulders heaving, Peter finds he has more tears left to shed after all.

[cillianmurpphy]

My Girl{T.S}

Part 3

Where a young, innocent woman moves to Small Heath unaware of the dangerous men lurking about the city.

The Shelby man had exited the small shop leaving behind the flustered girl who could not fathom what she had done wrong. Adeline stood silently still for a few minutes before looking at Mr.Brown and questioning the interaction.

“Why would that man get his suit for free? I do not understand.” Adeline furrowed her brows as she spoke while thinking about the possible conclusions.

“He’s a Shelby, that why.” Mr.Brown stated firmly giving no further insight on the situation.

As Adeline stood in the same position behind the register she pondered if she should ask more but based on Mr.Browns change in mood she’d figured if she were to keep asking questions she should save it for another day.

She quickly wished her employer a good night before swiftly exiting the shop whilst her bag in hand.

As Adeline made her way home she thought about her friend Ada and decided that upon her arrival to her home she would call the girl and ask to do something the next afternoon.

~~

The next afternoon quickly came and Ada found herself waiting outside of Lesa’s tailorings for Adeline.

Shortly after Ada arrived Adeline bid Mr.Brown farewell and exited the shop looking for the short haired girl. Upon seeing her Adeline’s face beamed with joy.

“Hello Ada!” Adeline said voice laced with excitement.

“Hello. Are you ready to go to the pub?” Ada asked Adeline.

Last night while discussing things to do Adeline confessed to Ada that she had never been to a pub before considering the fact she had just turned eighteen. Upon hearing this Ada had insisted on taking her to the garrison.

“Yes of course I am. I am a tad bit nervous though.” Adeline confessed to Ada.

“It’ll be okay, I frequently go here it’s the best pub around here.” Ada said trying to reassure the girl whilst not bringing up her family and the protection that came with her last name.

The girls continued their stroll down the street until they arrived at their destination.

Adeline stepped back as Ada reached out and opened the door for them. Adeline noticed how the pub had gotten momentarily silent when the door had opened as if they were stunned by the presence of the girls.

The girls had ordered their drinks and the night had been going exceptionally well until Ada excused herself to the restroom leaving Adeline at the bar alone. This is where the trouble had started.

As Adeline was left alone without the protection of the last name “Shelby” a man came up behind her and slid onto the bar stool next to her.

The naive girl only looked down swirling her straw in her drink whilst trying to ignore the man’s hungry eyes on her.

“What’s a girl like you doing in a place like this?” The dirty man questioned whilst having one hand grin his glass while the other one sat uncomfortably on his pants.

Adeline continued to look down uncomfortably at her almost empty glass. She didn’t know what to say to the drunk man that kept leaning closer to her so she said nothing.

“Ungrateful bitch, I’m talking to you!” Adeline flinched as he stood whilst he shouted at her.

Now the whole pub had gone silent and people began looking at the man and the girl before turning away back to their own conversations.

Just as the man got closer to the now crying girl the man she had saw in the tailoring shop walked through snug doors glancing around to see what could’ve caused the commotion he had just heard.

He was shocked when his eyes fell upon the crying girl and the drunken man standing too close to her. He immediately made his way to the pair and put his hand on the man’s shoulder and told him to leave.

Adeline expected the man to become aggressive but when in the presence of the mysterious Shelby man he obeyed and began to walk towards the exit.

At this moment Adeline began to wipe her tears and looked down out of embarrassment.

“Are you okay love?” The man with bright blue eyes questioned her.

“Yes I’m alright, just startled is all. I don’t understand why he had got so angry.” Adeline told the much taller man as she frantically wiped the tears trying to clear her face from them. She suddenly spotted Ada rushing towards her.

“Thomas what are you doing bothering my friend. Can I have one thing in this city without you trying to be involved!” Ada exclaimed as she stomped her foot and stood infront of the man.

To Adeline this interaction was odd but upon considering it everything had clicked and she now realized how stupid she had been to not make the connection between the mysterious man in the shop and her friend that coincidentally shared the same last name.

…

[stardewsnail]

OMG I LOVE LOVE LOVE YOUR WRITING. Can you please write abt Emily, Haley, and Leah (you don’t have to do them all!!) individually falling in love w a fem farmer? No rush!! :)

Thank youuuu !

Here’s 2/3 with Haley and Leah enjoy some fluff ^.^ (I tweaked some heart events)

Leah

Leah feels possessed. She’s been hacking at this piece of wood for hours and now her arms are shaking, but she’s almost done–she’s almost uncovered the art hiding inside. The smoothness of the grain and curve of each careful carving are hypnotic. Her face has been hot the whole time–as an artist she tries to be as in tune with her emotions as possible, but each time she imagines the farmer’s eyes she feels like she’ll explode. It’s ridiculous, at her age, to be so flustered by a silly crush-

She froze mid strike. A crush? She huffed, finally letting herself drop to sit amongst the shavings on the floor. Sweat stung her eyes and she wiped it away with more force than necessary, wholly focused on the way her heart hung in her throat. This wasn’t just a crush. This was deeper. She looked up at her sculpture, eyeing the interlocking pattern and realizing that from this angle it might look like a heart.

Oh.

Oh.

Well, at least she knew where this piece belonged.

Haley

The farmer squeezed her shoulder, “I’m so sorry Haley.” Haley leaned against her, trying not to cry. Guilt clawed up her throat.

“It was my great grandma’s.” She looked up, trying to keep the embarrassing flood of tears at bay. She’d come to the beach before dawn to photograph the sunrise over the waves—she’d been there hours when she’d noticed the missing jewelry. Now only a couple hours of sunlight remained and she was forced to reckon with reality: the heirloom might be gone forever.

“I’m sorry, it’s terrible but try not to beat yourself up over it too much,” the farmer’s eyes were kind. Haley didn’t think she’d ever met another person who was so earnest in everything they did. Their words carried a reassuring warmth that managed to assuage some of the grief. She missed Nana—that bracelet had felt almost like holding her hand.

She sniffled, “I know you’re right…” she trailed off, wiping her face, “Thanks,” she gave the other girl a watery smile, “I’m glad you ended up here.”

The farmer’s grin was almost goofy, “Thanks Haley, I’m glad you think so.”

“I think I’m going to go home and get something to eat,” she sighed, “I’ll see you around.”

“Take care of yourself,” the farmer urged, hands tucked into her pockets. As Haley was about to cross the bridge she paused, looking back. The farmer was pulling her hair back, looking out to the sea. She should have invited her back to the house, Haley thought in retrospect. The thought had her stomach suddenly twisting with butterflies and she froze, hand on her front door, heat creeping up her face.

“C’mon Hals,” she chided herself immediately, entering and closing the door with more force than necessary. It was time for a long bubble bath—or maybe a bath bomb. She could rent that movie she’d been wanting to see for ages with the vampires. Emily was at work for the night, she’d have the house to herself.

—

The next morning, Haley was determined to start the day right. After a quick breakfast she headed out to the beach, camera in hand. To add insult to injury, she hadn’t even managed to get the shot she wanted. But coming out to the sand she stopped short. The farmer was there, sitting in the sand staring out into the surf. Haley frowned, noticing she was wearing the same clothes as the day before, though she’d rolled her overalls up and discarded her shoes in a heap. As Haley approached, her head bobbed as if she was falling asleep.

The farmer jumped, looking over her shoulder. Her sleepy eyes lit up.

“Haley!” she exclaimed, only to yawn before she could continue, “I found it!” She waved something shiny and Haley broke into a run, dropping gracelessly to her knees next to her.

“Oh my god!” She squealed, taking her Nana’s bracelet in both hands, “You found it!” She threw her arms around the farmer, “Thank you!”

“Don’t worry about it,” the Farmer laughed, clumsily returning the embrace, one arm thrown back to keep them both from tumbling into the sand. Haley righted herself, and without having to ask the farmer held out her hand. She passed back the bracelet and extended her hand. The farmer carefully clasped the heirloom around Haley’s wrist with surprising care. She felt like she was going to cry.

“Did you stay out here all night?” she asked.

The farmer shrugged, settling back to her previous position looking out at the sea, “I might have,” she admitted, cheeks flushing red. Haley’s heart thundered in her chest, and she scooted closer, looping her arm through the farmer’s and resting against her side.

“Thank you.”

The farmer’s head rested against her own, and it was only a second before Haley realized she had fallen asleep. They could talk later—after she had some rest. Haley was going to need to start hinting to Pierre that it was time to bring the bouquets back in stock. The farmer was going to need one soon.

[idlyfretting]

they are longing to stray

(Read on Ao3)

Steve tried to ignore the empty cushion next to him, staring determinedly at the TV across the room. He’d popped in a VHS without looking at the case, before settling down with his reheated leftovers. It was some subpar action movie, one that he pretended to like more than he actually did just to annoy Robin. 

The absence of her running commentary somehow made the movie worse. 

He hadn’t seen Robin in two weeks. It was the longest they’d gone without talking to each other since Starcourt.

Steve picked at the fried rice in his lap, moving it around more than actually eating it. It was the last bit of food in the fridge. He needed to stop on his way home tomorrow and stock up. He should have done it last week, but he hadn’t really felt like doing anything last week.

He missed her.

God, this is worse than a break up. He would have laughed at himself if he wasn’t so fucking sad. 

It was like Robin had taken half his soul with him when she’d stormed out of their apartment two Saturdays ago. Like she’d packed her duffle, snagged her jacket off of the counter, and ripped his arms off on her way out the door. He didn’t feel like a whole person anymore.

One of their coworkers at the coffee shop had called them ‘unhealthily codependent’ once. Steve thought he understood what they’d meant now. 

He wanted Robin back. He’d do anything to get her to walk back through that door, call him an asshole, and stomp into her room. He’d take the silent treatment over her just being gone. Hell, he’d take five more screaming matches and hurt feelings, and words neither of them mean to say but can never take back, over this emptiness. 

The worst thing is he knows where she is. He knows the number he could call. He could beg for forgiveness, say he was sorry a million times, tell her he’d never say anything about who she wants to date ever again. 

He could say he was lying when he’d shouted that it wasn’t jealousy, even though that would be a lie itself. He could say that he didn’t know anything about healthy relationships, he had no place to judge. 

He could call. But he also couldn’t. Because Robin probably didn’t want him to, wanted him to keep his apologies to himself. She probably wanted him to fuck off and never talk to her again. She hadn’t called him after all. And after a conversation with one of her friends at NYU, he realized she hadn’t called anyone except her professors, telling them she had to leave town for a bit and asking for extensions or forwarded schoolwork. Dana had asked if Steve knew what had happened.

“I’m trying not to be worried, but this just isn’t like her.”

“She’ll be back. She wouldn’t just drop out in the middle of the semester.” Steve had told himself that repeatedly, trying to soothe his own worry.

“I know, I know. You’re right. But it still doesn’t make any sense. Did anything happen? Nothing seemed wrong in any of the classes we share, so maybe it was a personal thing–” She interrupted herself with a gasp. “Oh my god . Was it a girl? I know she was talking to that one from Boston, got all flustered whenever she brought her up. Do you think it had anything to do with that?”

Steve hadn’t known how to answer that. What was he supposed to say?

Yeah, it was about that girl from Boston. But not really, I guess. It was more to do with how Robin had somehow fallen ass over teakettle in love with my ex, who had been visiting New York with her girlfriend for a few days and then kept coming back alone every weekend after that to hang out with Robin. 

And then Robin came home one morning after staying out all night with her, and said they’d kissed and then more-than-kissed and then decided they wanted to start dating each other. 

And instead of being happy for her, I opened my big mouth and said “Fuck, not again.”

So he couldn’t call Robin. Because that would mean calling her in Boston. 

Which would mean calling Nancy. 

And one: he really didn’t want to do that.

Two: he was pretty sure she’d just hang up on him anyway, especially if Robin had told her about their fight.

Three: if she didn’t hang up, all he probably would have gotten was Tina’s Halloween Party: The Sequel. Which was maybe a little unfair of him to think. But he was sad and his best friend was gone, so fuck it. He could be a little bitter. It helped him with the guilt that was eating away at his brain. 

Fuck, he missed Robin.

He dumped the leftovers into the trash, having only eaten a few bites. He washed the tupperware on autopilot. It was starting to stain, they’d need to replace the set soon. They’d… he’d? 

He hoped it was still a they. He hoped he hadn’t fucked this up beyond repair. Robin would come back. Steve would grovel. She’d call him a dingus. And they’d never bring up Nancy ever again. 

That would be difficult with Robin and Nancy dating of course, but Steve was aces at ignoring shit when he didn’t want to talk about it. And he had the feeling Robin would be okay with this one exception to their ‘telling each other absolutely everything, even when it was gross’ schtick.

He shut off the TV and the lights and made his way to his bedroom in the dark. The room he had here in New York could not be more different that the one he’d had back in Hawkins. His high school bedroom had been plucked right out of a Home & Gardens spread, no personality and absolutely no warmth. The room he was in now was painted a creamy yellow and covered in posters and pictures and paintings. The small desk in the corner was overflowing with loose leaf papers, random textbooks, and unwashed clothes. It looked more like a teenager’s room than his actual one had. 

On his first visit to their apartment, Dustin had taken one step into his room, smiled, and said “So this is what it feels like to be inside your head.”

With the lights off, Steve could barely make out anything, seeing mostly dark rectangles on the walls and messy blobs piled on the floor. He stripped down to his boxers and face planted into his bed. Sleep was unlikely, but maybe if he closed his eyes and pretended hard enough, he could get enough rest to make it through tomorrow without crying.

(Read on Ao3)