#]^ club can’t come sooner lol

[ferrarifever]

hawaiian heat | c. leclerc

pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader

summary: you and charles go out clubbing while on vacation in hawaii, but he isn’t a fan of the attention his girl is getting

warnings: jealous! & possessive!charles, extremely light choking, oral (m receiving), fingering (f receiving), unprotected p in v

wc: 2.7k

masterlist🏎️𖦹 ׂ 𓈒 🏁 ／ ⋆ ۪

author’s note: hi! this is my first fic so i'd really appreciate feedback! (also i'm scared this will flop lol). also requests are open or if anyone has prompt/headcanon ideas hmu because i’m always looking for (and need) inspo (and also mutuals because i’m new around here!) - stella♡

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leading up to takeoff, you spent weeks making sure everything was perfectly prepared. you made sure to pack all your best swimsuits, your nicest outfits, and your finest jewelry. the opportunity to spend this much uninterrupted time with charles was rare, so you were determined to make the most of it.

filled with anticipation, the flight from monaco to maui felt like an eternity. you tried to downplay your excitement, but your plan completely failed once you arrived at the most picturesque villa you’ve seen in your life. it was the type you’d only seen online, and the reality you were staying there with the love of your life felt like a dream come true.

stepping out on the balcony of your room, you couldn’t believe this wasn’t a dream. so entranced by the sounds of the waves crashing against the shore, you failed to hear charles joining you. you felt his arms, already warm from the maui sun wrap around your waist. he began pressing feather-light kisses into your neck,

“i can’t believe we’re finally here. i can’t wait to spend the week with you chéri” he whispered in between kisses

you momentarily turned your back to the water to face charles. resting a hand on his chest, you whispered back “i can already tell i’m not going to want to leave”

you lightly press against his chest, leading both of you back in your shared room. placing his hand over yours, charles fell back gently on the bed, pulling you on top of him. you align yourself with the monegasque, feeling him begin to press his hips into yours. you felt his hand grip your cheek, pulling your lips to his. feeling charles hands migrate to the bottom of your shirt, you knew the rush of heat that flooded your body could not be attributed to the hawaiian climate. fighting your desire, you attempt to pull away

“baby–” you mumble against his lips, trying to pull him out of his trance of desire.

“charles– c’mon baby i have to start getting ready” running your hands up his body, you push your hands against his shoulders to force yourself off of the driver. he did not hold back his displeasure, groaning and falling back into the mattress.

“the sooner we leave the quicker we can come back, love!” you yell back towards charles, while making your way toward the bathroom to get ready. dedicated to your goal of making the most of the trip, you picked your favorite dress out of your suitcase. might as well kick the trip off with a bang, right?

you pulled every trick in the book. you did your makeup to make your eyes pop. you styled your hair in the way you knew charles loved. the jewelry you put on was flashy, but not tacky. before slipping on your favorite dress, you put on charles’ favorite ferrari red lingerie set. the lace hugged your curves perfectly, giving you a perfect boost of confidence before going out. you slipped on a maroon satin mini dress, leaving little for the imagination. you knew you looked good, and anyone else you come across will know too.

after giving yourself a onceover, you stepped into your favorite pair of louboutins. you walked out of the bathroom, the clicking of your heels drawing charles attention away from his phone and up to you. he gasped quietly, sucking in air while biting his bottom lip.

“holy shit y/n– there’s no way we’re leaving this room” he choked out.

you giggled at your boyfriends awe before replying; “as amazing as that sounds, you know we would never hear the end of it if we’re late”

charles pulls himself off the bed, meeting you halfway. he gently pushes you up against the doorframe of the bathroom

“let them talk baby–they’ll get it once they see this dress” he says quickly before kissing you passionately

cutting him off before things get too heated, you push him away; “charles, seriously, lets not give them a reason to make fun of us on day one. we’ll regret it i promise”

charles groans dramatically, knowing you’re right but not wanting to admit to it. you grab your purse off your nightstand and give yourself one last look in the mirror before turning back to charles to ask; “ready?”

charles pauses for a moment, deciding whether or not to put up one last fight. he ultimately replies “ready,” before holding out his hand for you to grab.

you make it to the club with perfect timing, meeting up with the other drivers and their partners. charles politely greets the other drivers and with just a single glance at your outfit the other girls give you a knowing look.

as the drinks started flowing, you knew this was going to be a memorable night (if you can remember it in the morning). with enough liquor in your system, you joined the dancefloor with the other wives and girlfriends, while charles hung back in a booth.

you knew that when you learned over the bar to get another drink you were giving everyone a peak at the lacy set under your dress. with every sway of your hips, the skit of your dress rose higher and higher up your hips. you were having the time of your life, failing to realize that you were driving charles insane. you momentarily locked eyes across the room, and while you flashed a smile, charles lowered his eyebrows in dismay. as you turned back towards the dancefloor you felt charles’ arms wrap tightly around your waist

“i think you have had enough dancing for the night, hmm?” charles whispered into your eye

“baby c’mon…the night is just beginning!” you giggle back

“the fun will begin once we get out of here…it’s time to go” charles growls into your ear. your desire to fight back died as soon as you saw the passion in his eyes. a wave of heat flushed through your body, and you allowed the driver to grab your wrist and pull you out of the darkly lit club.

the uber ride back to the hotel was tense. as charles hand slipped higher and higher up your thigh, you had to use all of your will to not climb onto him in the backseat. as soon as the car shifted into park, charles was pulling you out of the seat and up to your room.

as soon as you heard the door shut behind you, charles pushed you back against it. alternating running his hand along the bottom of your dress and pinch the fabric, charles growled out

“you happy now? finally getting the attention you clearly desperately wanted in this dress?” his words sparked heat in your core and you failed to muster any reply, simply whimpering in response.

“mmhm? now that it’s just us, my bébé is shy?” he questioned. his hand finally migrated up your thigh to where you really needed him. he snapped the elastic of your thong against your core, continuing his teasing.

“charles…please…” you continued to whine. you knew you sounded pathetic, but your need continued to build in a way that led you to not think clearly.

as soon as the ‘please’ left your mouth, you felt charles remove his hand from up your dress and placed it carefully around your neck. he bent his knee between your thighs, holding you up against the door.

“you know bébé–if you asked that sweetly before we left i may be nicer right now. instead, you thought teasing me in front of the boys would end better for you. so right now i’m going to remind you that you’re mine and only mine.” he growled into your ear before migrating lower and lightly biting at your neck.

“i’m sorry” you apologized with a light smirk. making charles jealous was never your priority, but if it happened along the way you were going to enjoy the ride.

“prove it then” he snapped back. he increased pressure on your neck, slowly pushing you down until you dropped to your knees. you looked up at him, giving him the most seductive eyes you could muster. he bit down on his lip in return, not wanting to praise you just yet. he nodded down at you, giving you silent permission to continue. you slowly unbutton his jeans. you know continuing to tease him is a dangerous game, but you know secretly charles likes it when you take your time with him.

you tug at his jeans, pulling his boxers down with them. his hard length bounces, hitting his abs. you take the opportunity to lick a long lick from the base to head of his length before taking his sensitive tip in your mouth. charles groans, throwing his head back as you take him deeper and deeper down your throat.

as your eyes begin to water, charles stretches out his arms before pressing his palm against the door to balance himself. the warmth of your mouth felt like heaven and he was doing everything in his power to ground himself.

your hands migrate to the back of his thighs, pulling him into you to take him even deeper into your mouth. you continue flicking your tongue below his tip, drawing obscene noises out of the driver.

he is able to center himself enough to look down and make eye contact with you. he quickly realizes he made a mistake, using your hair to divide the two of you.

“i’m not finishing down your pretty mouth tonight, cherí,” charles groans. just as you start processing his words, charles is pulling you off the floor and towards the bed. before either of you hit the mattress, charles is unzipping your dress. as the satin dress falls to the floor, your lace-clad body is presented to the monegasque. after taking in the sight before him, charles lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding

“mon ange” he says, gasping for breath. once you’re face-to-face you give him a quick peck on the lips before whispering in his ear “use me baby, i’m yours.”

charles pushes you back first onto the bed. he pauses for a moment to take in the view in front of him. still clad in lace with your heels, lips swollen, eyeliner running, hair tousled…you were a dream come true. he can’t hold back for long before collapsing on top of you. you pick yourself lightly off the mattress, leaving just enough space for you to unclasp your bra. as soon as you pull the red lace off your body, charles is attacking your skin with his lips.

he runs his hands down your torso before looping his fingers into the waistband of your panties. he finally pulls them off after what felt like an eternity. his hands graze your thighs before making their way back to your core. he slowly runs a single finger where you needed him most.

“you're already so wet for me, bébé. no need to even prepare you, huh?” he says with a dry laugh. you didn't find it as funny, whining in return

“charles– please i need you so bad” you plead. he takes pity on you, sinking his middle finger into you. you moan slightly, you need for his touch your body had been begging for began to subside.

he continues pushing his middle finger in and out of you at what can only be considered a painstakingly slow pace. you continue your whining and muffled pleads, knowing it won’t do much at the moment

“who does this pussy belong to? hmm?” the speed of his words is a complete juxtaposition of his pace inside you.

“yours charles, yours!” you exclaim, “please do anything baby” you whine out. he was clearly not completely satisfied, but he took enough pity on you to move his thumb up towards your throbbing clit. the minute his thumb made contact with your throbbing bundle of nerves, you arched your back off the mattress. you attempted to moan out charles name, and although his title may not have been clear, your pleasure was.

as he began slowly rubbing circles on your clit, he added another finger inside you. you did not realize how deep the need inside of you was until this moment. you had no clue what to do with your body, alternating between gripping the sheets and running your hands through charles hair.

“now cherí, i’m going to be good to you today and let you get off on my fingers, you know why?” he questioned you, while quickening his trusting pace inside you.

you attempted an answer, but the fear of giving the wrong response and overwhelming pleasure led it to be incomprehensible. charles laughed slightly before filling you in,

“because i’m the only one who can make you feel this way bébé. none of the boys at that club would be able to make you feel this good with just his fingers” he announced. you nodded your head rapidly,

“only you baby–” you repeated like a mantra as you fell over the edge. your body spasmed and your stomach clenched and you screamed out. charles continued working you through your orgasm, slowing down his pace as you caught your breath. he slowly removed his fingers from where they were curled inside of you. he licked his middle finger quickly before holding them to your mouth. you began sucking on his fingers,

“now you can feel and taste how good i make you feel bébé” he says with confidence, knowing the power he holds over you.

he pulls his fingers out of your mouth with a pop. his wet hand moves down between your thighs, pushes them open just enough to make room for him. he continues leaning in closer to you before he whispers

“ready?” he asks carefully. you nod, using all your strength to mutter out a quick “yes.”

you feel his length slowly penetrate you, every inch pulling another gasp out of your lungs. he hands grip your waist as he immediately begins rocking in and out of you, filling you up with every rock of his hips. every thrust brought you closer and closer to your edge, and charles knew. he moves his hand from your waist back to your sensitive clit, causing you to let out a high-pitched moan at the additional stimulation. before you can process the added pleasure, you hear charles begin to speak,

“could any of the other guys in the club make you feel like this baby? hmm?” charles growls into you ear, frustration from earlier simmering back up

“only you charles! no one else, baby” you squeal out quickly. charles’ pressure on your clit gets faster as his thrusts get harder, pulling you closer and closer to your edge

“who’s are you bébé?” he growls out, keeping his explosive pace

“i’m yours baby! only yours! please” you scream out, gripping the bedsheets in an attempt to ground yourself

“go ahead cherí, cum for me” charles says in the calmest tone of the night. with a scream of his name, your walls flutter around him as you cum on his cock. so wrapped up in your own pleasure, it wasn’t until charles grabbed your hips tightly and slowed his pace you felt him filling you with his cum.

he stills over you, both of you panting and fighting to catch your breath. charles leans to kiss you quickly before slowly pulling out of you. he rolls next to you on the bed, both of you still fighting your air. charles makes his way to the bathroom, grabbing a towel to clean you off. as you feel the cloth running up the thigh, you remind charles

“you know it’s always been you, right? and always will be?” you remind charles

“mmhm i know cherí,” he replies calmly.

he leans over to press light kisses on your neck before continuing, “...but i never mind a reminder” ;)

[itneverendshere]

I love pogue!reader and rafe sm. I’m so excited every time you post them ❤️ what if reader realizes she’s really falling for rafe and it’s getting serious so she’s tries to self sabotage and end it. She’s thinking he’s THE kook and she’s a pogue. It can’t last and she won’t survive that heartbreak. so rafe starts to panic but then realizes what’s she’s doing by ending it so he’s just like lol no nice try I’m not going anywhere

 i would follow you home - r.c

pairing: rafe x pogue!reader (bartender!reader universe) word count: 3.1k

hope you enjoy, i love them too 🩵

It was mid-afternoon, that quiet lull between lunch and dinner when the regulars started to trickle in. And like clockwork, you were wiping down the bar, mindlessly watching the condensation drip from a glass of iced tea when you saw Rafe strolling in.

He always had that cocky walk, shoulders rolled back like he owns the place, which, you guess, technically he kinda did, or at least his dad did. Cameron Development Group practically built the country club.

He spotted you and the corner of his mouth lifted in that way that made your stomach flip. God, you hated how it still got to you.

After months of this—him swinging by the bar at the end of his golf games, lounging against the counter like it was no big deal, driving you home, saving you from the storms, letting you kiss him—your heart should’ve calmed the hell down. But no, here you were, butterflies fluttering in your chest, fingers tightening around the rag you were using to clean.

You tossed it on the counter and busy yourself with stacking glasses.

“Hey, stranger.” His voice was all smooth like he knew exactly what effect it had on you. And he did. You were still a shitty liar and he learned that fast. 

You glanced up, trying to keep things cool, casual. “Hey yourself.”

He settled into one of the barstools, leaning forward, his blue eyes locking on yours. “You off soon?”

You shrugged. “Depends. Why?”

The truth was, you knew why. You knew exactly what he was asking.

He was wondering if you would have time after this—time to sneak off to that little spot by the docks where you'd been meeting up, where things between you had been getting more…a little complicated?

And that’s exactly why you needed to end this.

It’s not like you hadn’t seen it coming. You’d known for a while that whatever this thing was with Rafe, it was headed in a direction you couldn’t afford to follow. He was the poster child for Kook royalty. Born with a silver spoon and all that. Meanwhile, you were still just the bartender, a Pogue, barely scraping by. 

It started simple—quick conversations after work, long talks on the drive home, those random texts at 2 a.m. that turned into hours of you two confessing things you’d never say out loud to anyone else.

You din’t know when it shifted into this—this weird gray area where everything felt more intense. Maybe when you all but kissed him when he picked you up after the storm. That had to be it.

Because you knew how this story ended. You knew what happened when a girl like you fell for a guy like Rafe Cameron.

Heartbreak.

And you wouldn’t survive that.

“I’ve been thinking,” You blurted out, suddenly very aware of the way his eyes were still on you. Too aware. You reached for a clean glass, filling it with soda water to distract yourself. “Maybe we should… I dunno, cool it for a bit.”

His smirk faltered. “Cool it?”

“Yeah,” You shrugged again, trying to seem nonchalant, even though your heart was hammering so loud you were sure he could hear it. “I mean, this was fun and all, but let’s be real—”

“Be real?”

You nodded, not daring to look up from the glass you were holding.

“We’re not exactly from the same world, Rafe. It was bound to end sooner or later. Might as well rip the band-aid off now.”

Silence. For a beat, he doesn’t say anything, and for a second you wonder if you had done it—if you’d actually convinced him that this wasn’t worth it, that he should’ve just walked away and left you with at least a sliver of your heart intact.

Then he laughed.

It wasn’t like a mocking laugh, but it was still a sound you weren’t expecting. Your eyes snapped up to his face, and you saw that damn smirk was back. Only this time, there was something softer in his eyes, something almost… amused?

“Oh, I see what this is.” He leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest, looking way too pleased with himself.

You frowned, instinctively grabbing a towel and wiping the counter again, trying to distract yourself from the way his eyes were making you feel seen. Too seen. 

“What?”

“You’re scared.”

Your stomach dropped. “I’m not—”

“Yes, you are,” he interrupted, standing up and rounding the bar until he was way too close, until you could smell the cologne clinging to his skin and the fresh grass scent of the golf course. He caged you in with his body, one hand gripping the counter behind you, the other reaching up to tilt your chin so you had no choice but to meet his gaze. “You’re trying to push me away because you’re scared. But newsflash, sweetheart—nice try. I’m not going anywhere.”

You swallowed hard, throat tight, because damn it, he was right. He was completely, 100% right, and you hated it. You hated that he could see right through you like that, see all your fears, all the things you’d been trying so hard to bury.

You opened your mouth, but nothing came out.

You didn’t know what to say because, deep down, you didn’t want to believe that it mattered to him. You wanted to believe that he saw you for more than just the girl behind the bar. But every time you let yourself get close, that voice in the back of your head reminded you that this wasn’t some fairytale.

“Rafe, you’ll get bored,” you mumbled, barely able to get the words out. “You’ll realize this was just… a phase. I mean, we’re friends, right? We can just… go back to that.”

“Go back to that?” He repeated your words slowly like he was testing them out. And then he laughed—this short, disbelieving sound that made your stomach twist, “You’re trying to run.”

“Am not.”

“You are.

“There’s nothing to run from,” You snapped, though even you didn’t believe that.

He was close enough now that you had to tilt your head almost all the way back to meet his eyes, and there was something so raw, so real in the way he was looking at you that you couldn’t breathe.

“Nothing, huh?”

“Nothing,” you managed to repeat, but the word came out more like a question than a statement. The self-doubt you’d been trying to ignore bubbled up, and you hated yourself for it. 

He leaned in closer, and you could feel his breath against your skin. “If you think there’s nothing between us, then why does it hurt so much to even think about letting it go?”

His words hit a particular soft spot, and you had to bite your lip to keep from gasping. You wanted to argue, to tell him he was wrong, that you could walk away and be fine.

But the truth was, you weren’t fine. You weren’t even close to fine.

The whole time you’d been telling yourself this was just a fling, some wild phase that would burn out eventually—because that was what made sense. You weren’t supposed to fall for the guy who came from money and lived in a mansion on the hill, while you were still sharing a room with your sister in a run-down house, after yours got destroyed, on the wrong side of the island. 

This was never supposed to be real.

“You don’t get it. You’ve never had to worry about—about someone like me not fitting into your life. You don’t have people looking at you and thinking ‘what the hell is he doing with her?’”

Rafe’s eyes softened, and his thumb brushed a light circle against your waist, sending a pleasant shiver down your spine. “Who cares what people think? I’m not with them. I’m with you.”

You shook your head, more to yourself than to him, stepping back just enough to put some space between you.

"No. No, it’s not that simple. You don’t get it. You don’t get what it’s like to always be the one left behind. You’ll get bored, and then what? You just walk away and I’m the one left picking up the pieces."

He opened his mouth to argue, but you weren’t done.

"And don't say you won’t, because everyone does! I’ve seen this before. I’ve been through it. I don’t survive guys like you." Your voice cracked, and damn it, you hated how vulnerable you sounded, but it was too late. It was all spilling out now, all the fear you’d kept bottled up.

Rafe’s jaw tightened, and instead of the cocky smirk you expected, there was something different in his eyes. Anger? No, frustration maybe. But not at you.

He ran a hand through his hair, clearly trying to keep his cool. “You think I’m just some guy playing games, huh? That I’m gonna wake up one day and decide you’re not worth it?”

You crossed your arms, hugging yourself as if that would protect you from the way his words were hitting you too hard. “Isn’t that what happens?”

“No. Not with me.”

“You don’t know that!”

“I do know that!” His voice rose, and you flinched a little, caught off guard by the intensity.

He noticed and apologized immediately, stepping closer, his hand reaching for yours but stopping just short. "I’m here, with you. Because I want to be. Don’t you get that?"

You hated the way he was looking at you, the way his words hit with brutal honesty you weren’t used to—it made you pause. Your eyes fleeted away, focusing on the floor because looking at him was too much.

"Just let me go," you whispered, "It’ll hurt less now."

A muscle in his jaw twitched, and before you could pull back, he stepped forward, closing the gap between you in one swift move.

His hand cupped your face, forcing you to meet his eyes, and there was no escape from the intensity in them.

"No," he said, firm but quiet. "I’m not letting you go. You’re not pushing me away. I’m not leaving, no matter how hard you try to sabotage this."

Your breath hitched in your throat, and you shook your head, trying to argue, but then his lips were on yours, cutting off whatever weak protest you had left. The kiss wasn’t gentle or slow—it was harsh, like he was trying to make you understand something without words. 

 And damn it, you kissed him back. Because of course, you did.

Because despite everything you said, everything you feared, you wanted this. You wanted him. But the second you felt yourself giving in, you pushed him back, your hands pressed against his chest, trying to regain some control. 

"Stop doing that," you snapped, breathless.

"Doing what?" He sounded just as breathless, but he didn’t step away.

"Kissing me like you can fix this. Like—like I’m just gonna believe you."

He exhaled sharply, his hands gripping your waist, keeping you close. "You don’t have to believe me now, but I’m not going anywhere. I’ll prove it to you, okay? Just stop trying to run every time it gets hard."

"I don’t know how to do this," you admitted quietly, your hands still resting against his chest, fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt.

"I’ll show you," he whispered, his forehead resting against yours, his breath mingling with yours. "Just stop pushing me away."

For a moment, you let yourself just be there with him, your defenses crumbling piece by piece. You didn’t know how long it would last, or if you could even survive it, but maybe… just maybe, he was worth the risk.

But still, you couldn’t help but mutter, "You’re so stupid, you know that?"

His lips twitched into a smile. “And you’re still kissing me, again, so what does that say about you?”

You rolled your eyes, trying to hide the way your lips twitched with a smirk of your own.

 “Says I’m just as stupid as you,” you muttered under your breath, but the words lacked bite. Your hands stayed on his chest, fingers still gripping his polo like you were afraid to let go, like maybe if you held on tight enough, you wouldn’t fall apart, “Do you always go around kissing the saff?” You mumbled out.

Rafe’s hands moved from your waist to your back, pulling you in closer. His forehead still rested against yours, and you could feel his breath, warm and steady, brushing against your skin. It was infuriating how easy it was to melt into him.

He raised an eyebrow, his lips twitching with the start of a grin, “Only the ones who can’t seem to stay away from me.”

You groaned, shoving him in the chest with just enough force to make him stumble back a step. “God, you’re insufferable.”

He caught your wrists before you could pull away completely, his grip gentle, keeping you close enough that you could still feel the warmth of his skin through your clothes. “Yeah, well, you seem to like insufferable.”

“Do I though?” You quipped, trying to sound indifferent, but your heartbeat was giving you away. You could feel it hammering in your chest, “Because I feel like this whole thing is a bad idea. You know, like ‘kiss the rich guy, ruin your life’ kind of bad idea.”

Rafe’s expression softened, and the teasing glint in his eyes faded. “Why do you always do that?”

“Do what?” You tried to play dumb.

“Talk like this doesn’t mean something. Like I don’t mean something to you.” His voice was low, but there was a seriousness in it that made your stomach flip. “We’ve been doing this dance for a while now, and every time it starts to get real, you act like it’s just… casual.”

Your throat tightened, and you tried to pull your wrists free, but he didn’t let go, making it clear he wasn’t letting you run again.

“Maybe it is casual,” you said, even though the words tasted like a lie. “Maybe we’re just two people having a good time, and that’s it.”

He shook his head, the corner of his mouth lifting in that way that made your chest ache. “Nah. You’re not fooling me anymore. You don’t kiss someone like you kissed me just for fun.”

You blinked, your breath catching in your throat. “Rafe…”

“And you don’t look at me like that when I walk in unless there’s more to it.” His voice softened as his thumb traced light circles against your skin. “So stop pretending it’s nothing.”

“I should be working.”

But Rafe wasn’t letting you off that easy. “Yeah, you probably should,” he said, but his hands didn’t move, and neither did his eyes.

“So you’re gonna let me go?”

“Why’d you kiss me that day?” he asked, "I’ve been wondering.”

You blinked up at him, caught off guard by the question. He was so close, and it was hard to think, let alone answer something that felt so…disarming like everything you’d been running from was waiting in his words.

"I don’t know," you groaned, suddenly feeling like a cornered animal. "I wasn’t thinking straight."

His fingers traced a slow line down your arm, sending shivers through you. "You sure about that?" His voice was quiet, like he already knew you were lying, knew you too well for you to hide behind that excuse. "Because it didn’t feel like just some random kiss."

You scoffed, trying to laugh it off, trying to keep your cool, but the sound came out shaky.

"It was— I don’t know, Rafe. It was just the heat of the moment, okay? The storm… everything." You bit your lip, avoiding his gaze because you knew he wasn’t buying it. "You saved me, and I guess I was—"

"Grateful?" he interrupted, his brow arching. “Is that what you’re trying to say?”

You winced. "I didn’t mean it like that."

“Yeah, well, it sure sounds like you’re trying to make it seem like it meant nothing. Like you didn’t feel anything when you kissed me.”

You swallowed hard, the lump in your throat making it impossible to respond right away. He wasn’t wrong. That kiss had meant something—maybe more than you were ready to admit to yourself, let alone to him.

“You can’t keep acting like you don’t care, because I know you do. You wouldn’t have kissed me if you didn’t.”

The way he said it, so certain, so sure of himself—it made your heart race even faster. 

“Why do you care so much?” you whispered, the words slipping out before you could stop them. “Why does it matter?”

He frowned, like you had just asked the stupidest question in the world. “Because it matters to me.”

Your chest tightened at that, and you hated how much you wanted to believe him. "I don’t want to get hurt, Rafe."

"I’m not gonna hurt you." His voice was low, serious, like a promise, but you’d heard promises like that before. "I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t care. I’m asking for a chance, just one chance. I’m not going anywhere.”

Your chest tightened as you stared up at him. He was serious. Like, really serious. And you were scared out of your mind because you wanted to believe him so badly. But trusting someone, letting them in? That was terrifying.

“I’m scared,” you whispered, finally admitting it out loud.

“I know,” he murmured, his forehead resting gently against yours. “But I’m scared too, okay? I want to be with you. So, please, just… give us a shot.”

You closed your eyes, breathing him in, your mind racing a hundred miles per hour.

You could still feel his lips on yours, the way he made you feel like maybe, just maybe, you could let your guard down for once. And the truth was, despite all the reasons you’d been telling yourself to walk away, your heart was telling you to stay.

 “Okay.”

His breath caught. “Okay?”

You opened your eyes, “Yeah, okay. I’ll give you a chance. Don’t screw it up.”

Rafe’s lips curved into that stupid, cocky grin, “I won’t. I promise.”

You wanted to roll your eyes at him, but instead, you found yourself smiling back. 

Maybe this was crazy, maybe you were setting yourself up for heartbreak or maybe you’d really found yourself a soulmate.

[sixty-silver-wishes]

I think I'm gonna share some more of my caligari fics here lol. you have no idea how many are in my google docs right now

anyway this one is a little imagining of what cesare's life might have been like before caligari. 2,850 words because there's something wrong with me

The sound of clapping seemed far away, as if it were halfway in a dream, but the young dancer couldn’t help but take a moment to savor it. His routine had left his arms feeling like lead, and although it had gotten stronger over the years, his heart pounded in his chest, making him nervous.

I need to get home, he thought, taking a final bow. As much as he liked performing, the noise was beginning to get to him. Boisterous cheering made it difficult to tell one voice from another. The club was, as always, foggy with smoke, and the faint smell of liquor was beginning to make him feel lightheaded, along with that of his own sweat. There will be none of this, he thought, when I make it out of here. He closed his heavy eyelids, imagining a beautifully-decorated set behind him, and ahead of him an audience of ladies and gentlemen in splendid eveningwear, watching with admiration from their rows of velvet seats. He’d never been to a real theatre before- it was far too expensive- but one day, he vowed, he’d dance at so many he’d be positively sick of them.

For now, though, he felt a different kind of sick. His head reeling, he exited the stage, slipping behind a threadbare curtain as he caught his breath. He could barely make out the other members of the troupe as he slumped into a chair, his eyes half-closed.

“You were wonderful out there,” he heard someone say. He wanted to respond, but couldn’t bring himself to answer.

“Even better than last night!” someone else agreed. He recognized this voice- is that Elisabeth? She had been in the troupe for almost as long as he had.

“Move out of the way,” another voice snapped. That was Anna. “Can’t you see he’s exhausted?”

I’m not exhausted, he told himself. One didn’t get out of the clubs by being exhausted, even with the setbacks his condition posed. He opened his eyes to see her dabbing at his forehead with her handkerchief. 

“I’m all right,” he said, his voice brittle. “You don’t need to…”

“Nonsense,” she answered. “You look like you’re about to faint.”

“I’m fine,” he insisted, although he knew there was no use arguing with her.

“The rest of you,” she said, “go change.”

“Why?” Elisabeth said, as the rest of them giggled to themselves. “So you can be alone with him?”

“You might have competition with some of the patrons, Anna,” someone else added. “There wasn’t a single person who didn’t have their eyes on him the whole time.”

“Even the men,” Elisabeth answered, causing them all to burst into another fit of giggles again. 

“No, I’m serious! The one who always sits in the back? With the glasses and the greasy hair? I swear, he comes in every time he has a solo number.”

“Oh, him?” another girl- Clara- said. “I heard he lives in a villa. The one on the other end of town. Anna, you’d better watch yourself!”

“Enough!” Anna barked. “All of you, leave us!”

“If you say so,” Elisabeth answered tauntingly, the sound of snickers fading away as she and the other girls left.

“Idiots, all of them,” Anna muttered, shaking her head. “The nerve to talk like that, when they’ll be back on the streets the second they’re out the door.” She dipped her handkerchief in a bowl of water. “Chin up.”

“You don’t have to-” he insisted.

“Chin up.”

He sighed, lifting his chin as she began to clean off his makeup. He was perfectly capable of doing it himself, of course, but the sooner he could get home, the better. She brushed the hair from his forehead, diligently wiping it down with the handkerchief.

“Your hair is a wreck,” she said, “and you work too hard.”

“I work just as much as anyone else here,” he said.

“Don’t lie to me. It’s not good for your health, and you know it. Other side.”

He turned his head, and she started removing the makeup from under his eye. 

“This is for my health,” he said. “If I wasn’t dancing, I’d probably be bedridden. Maybe even permanently stuck at home.”

She scoffed. “And so you exhaust yourself instead. We’re getting drinks tonight. On me.”

“I really shouldn’t,” he said. “I don’t feel well.”

“Tomorrow, then.”

“I’m dancing again tomorrow.”

“And the day after that, I’m sure. When was the last time you actually had fun?”

Since when did she care about fun? “I have to go,” he said, standing up and throwing his scarf over his shoulder. “Thank you.”

She took his hand. “I know you want to get out of the clubs; we all do. And you will make it; you’re talented enough. But you’re not going to get there tomorrow. If you don’t want to go out tonight, can’t you stay here a little longer?”

He shook his head. “Goodbye, Anna,” he said. “I’ll see you later.”

“You’re just as foolish as the rest of them,” she said, although the corner of her mouth was twisted up in a half-smile.

He left, carefully making his way down a set of stairs and through a door. Most of the patrons had left by now, and it was a bit easier to breathe. He inhaled sharply, picking his way between tables on his way out. 

One table stood away from the others, towards the back of the club. 

It was still occupied.

Just as Elisabeth said, a man was sitting alone, hunched over the table. His gloved hand rested on an ivory-tipped cane, and his heavy cloak made him look larger than he actually was. True to her description, he had unkempt, greasy hair the texture of straw, and the low light glinted off his round spectacles. His eyes were cast towards the floor. His shoulders heaved up and down beneath the folds of his cloak, his mouth whispering something unintelligible.

Maybe he’s drunk, the dancer thought, resolving not to make eye contact. Looking ahead, he made his way towards the door. He tried not to look at the man, keeping his feet steady and his arms close to his sides.

He held his breath, and drew nearer to the table. Forcing himself to keep his footsteps even, he passed by it, taking care not to trip over the man’s cane. Against his better judgement, he glanced back from the corner of his eye. The man didn’t regard him at all, and he calmed- Elisabeth was just trying to bother Anna, he thought. He’s probably just a regular; he isn’t stalking me.

He continued through the near-empty club, shaking himself awake as drowsiness crept into his skull. It won’t be long, he thought. He’d eat something, then go to sleep- after he’d locked all the doors, of course. It was important to lock the doors before he went to sleep.

The exit was just a few paces away. He relaxed, until he heard a noise- the man’s cane scraping on the floor as he turned around. The dancer froze, his long, delicate fingers hovering just above the door handle.

“You there,” the man said in a voice that sounded exactly like the noise his cane had made. 

“Yes,” he answered quietly. Where was Anna? Where was anyone?

“Come here.”

What can I say to that? He took a couple steps towards him. “Is everything all right, sir?”

“Me?” the man chuckled to himself. “Oh, I’m fine, thank you. I just wanted to offer you my sincerest compliments regarding your performance.”

“Thank you,” he answered.

“I don’t know how you young people do it. All that dancing,” the man said, looking at him over his glasses. “Especially you.”

His breath caught in his throat. “What do you mean?”

“With your neuroses, of course,” the man smiled, displaying a set of large, yellowed teeth. 

“My what?”

“Oh, everyone’s been talking about you. It’s not some big secret, is it? Your cocktail of crippling mental disorders? It’s a shame someone as talented as you should be the subject of such ridicule. Probably just rumors, of course; you can’t trust anyone in a small town.”

“I don’t- I mean, I fall asleep very often, and I sleepwalk sometimes, but I don’t think there’s anything wrong with me.” Why am I telling him all this? he wondered. I’m too tired; I need to leave.

The man’s eyebrows raised. “Do you, now? It seems the gossip is true, then. All those stories about you wandering around at night- some of the less scientifically inclined even think you’re possessed. It’s concerning, really. People could get hurt, if you don’t know what you’re doing. In fact, I would presume some already have, and you don’t remember a thing.”

He shook his head. “I’ve never hurt anyone.” 

“Perhaps not yet, you haven’t. But I’m a specialist in the exact conditions you suffer from, and it happens more often than you’d realize. You can’t be a great performer the way things are now, can you? Say you’re in a real ballet and you fall asleep on stage. It pains me to think of what would happen then.”

“That’s never happened before, either.”

“If you’re touring the world, you’ll never know a moment’s rest. You will be performing day and night, and when you’re not on stage, you will be traveling. I’m sure you’ve thought about all that, haven’t you?”

“How did you know I wanted…”

“As if it isn’t obvious!” the man laughed. “Look at yourself. You don’t belong here, surrounded by whores and drunkards. Your destiny lies somewhere far greater- and I’m certain you know it. I can help you get there.”

The dancer backed away. “Thank you,” he said, “but I must be going. Good night.”

The older man reached into his cloak, and pulled something out. “My card,” he said, grinning. 

“That’s all right. Thank you.”

Something akin to fury flashed behind the glasses, but the man pocketed the card once again. “If you insist,” he said. “But I trust we will meet again very soon.”

-

After leaving the club, the dancer carefully made his way through the streets on his way home. It could be hard to navigate Holstenwall at night, with its twisting roads and looming houses, and he shuddered as he wound his hands into his filmy scarf.

People aren’t spreading rumors about me, he told himself. I’m not sure what he was talking about. Still, whenever someone passed, he felt an anxious prickling inside, and averted his eyes. Sometimes, he did manage to make it outside while he was asleep, but he doubted he did anything abnormal enough to attract any attention. 

I suppose if I did, I wouldn’t know. 

He pushed the thought away, and sat down on a bench to catch his breath. He reminded himself not to perform so late tomorrow; it was difficult to keep from getting too anxious at this hour, when the lamplight that flickered over the streets distorted the way home into an unfamiliar tangle of shadows.

As he was nodding off, someone sat on the opposite side of the bench- a girl, maybe slightly younger than he was and a good deal smaller, her pale face poking out against the pile of furs she was wrapped in. She glanced at him, and edged further away down the bench.

Maybe they are talking about me, he thought. He sat up, deciding he’d rest for a few more minutes before continuing on his way.

“Are… are you all right?” she asked. “You seem cold in those tights.”

“Me? I’m fine.” He looked over at her. “I’m a dancer; I’m used to it.”

Her eyes widened, and she paled even further- she looked almost gray. “A dancer?”

“Yes,” he said. 

“Dancers are disreputable people. Mother says we should not associate with them,” she said, her large dark eyes fixed upon him. With her carefully curled hair and luxurious coat, she looked just like a living doll. She lowered her voice to an excited whisper. “Are you disreputable? If you are, I shouldn’t be talking to you, should I? You must forgive me- I do not make the acquaintance of many disreputable people. They are a corrupting influence on affluent, impressionable young ladies such as myself, and that’s why I mustn’t talk to them, lest I be led astray onto the path of darkness. What’s it like, being disreputable?” She gasped, covering her mouth. “Are you going to corrupt me?”

He blinked. “I’m not disreputable,” he said. “At least, I don’t think so. And in any case, I don’t want to do anything to you.”

“All right.” She deflated. “I suppose there are some dancers who aren’t disreputable- like my teacher. He’s boring, but very reputable. He was famous when he was younger, I think. Are you famous?”

“Not yet,” he said, yawning. “But one day, I hope I’ll be.”

“It doesn’t seem like a lot of fun,” she said. “All the famous people I’ve met aren’t any fun at all. Maybe you think it would be awfully romantic to be famous, but it really is just lots of rules to follow.” She grinned at him. “I think I would much rather be disreputable, don’t you?”

“I don’t think you would,” he answered.

She turned up her nose haughtily. “And how do you know what I want? You don’t know me, even if you do know who I am. Same as everyone.”

She seemed far too young to be out by herself at night, he figured- no older than sixteen. The same could be said of some of the girls in the troupe, but he figured she wasn’t out for the reasons they were. They could handle themselves; she looked so tiny bundled up in her furs, someone truly disreputable could easily scoop her under one arm and carry her off like a well-dressed, doe-eyed parcel. The thought made him sick.

“Do you have anyone to walk you home?” he asked. “It’s quite dark out.”

“Oh! No. I’m waiting for my carriage,” she said. “Are you waiting for your carriage, too?”

He shook his head. “I don’t have a carriage. I’m walking home; I just got tired.”

“But it’s so much easier with a carriage!” she exclaimed. “And you look tired; it’s very silly of you not to have one. I would let you come with me, so you don’t have to walk, but I don’t think Mother would like it if I allowed a dancer into the carriage. You poor thing! It’s so sad that you have to walk everywhere, isn’t it?”

“A pity,” he muttered. He figured she was earnest enough, but very shallow. It probably wasn’t her fault, though, with how often she mentioned her mother, who had probably spoiled the helpless creature into stupidity. As tired as he was, he figured it was best to wait with her; there was no way he’d be able to sleep easily if he left her alone in the cold. He could put up with her naive chattering as long as it meant she’d be safe- although, he noted, she didn’t shiver like he did, and it probably wasn’t just due to her fur coat. She kicked her feet back and forth absentmindedly, and he wondered when it last was he had met anyone truly innocent- or if she was as innocent as she seemed.

Fortunately, he didn’t have to wait with her for long. Soon enough, a black carriage decorated with white filigree arrived, pulled by two horses. It stopped in front of the bench, the horses snorting puffs of breath into the cold air.

“Miss Olsen!” the driver called to the girl.

“Oh! That’s me,” she said, adjusting her furs as she stood up. “It was very nice to meet you, even if you are a dancer.”

Another man opened the carriage door for her, and she stepped into it. “I hope I’ll get to see you again!” she called as the door closed behind her. “Good luck walking home! Goodbye!”

She pressed her face to the window and smiled at him conspiratorially through the glass, as if they shared some great secret. He waved, watching the carriage disappear. When the sound of the horses’ hooves faded away, he stretched, then got up from the bench. It was even later than he’d hoped; the silly girl had delayed him once again. I’ll be lucky if I don’t fall asleep here, he thought, and stumbled down the street, making sure to stay close to the wall so he could catch himself just in case. He’d be back at the club tomorrow, and he didn’t want to be late.

By the time he’d arrived home, he could barely stand. His parents were definitely already asleep, and he didn’t want to wake them. Muscles aching, he let himself in, and although his fingers were heavy and shook as he did so, he turned all of the locks on the door before collapsing onto the hard, worn couch, all but certain that he would have yet another night of strange dreams.

[bo0zey]

i’m so tired of pretending i’m not tired lol

[mildkleptomaniac]

finally  — rafe cameron x pogue!reader

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭:  “ hi, can i please request something where you’re a pouge but rafe cameron is like in love with you, and you feel the same way, but his family and friends are whats keeping you guys apart? and like a happy ending ”

𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬: part one | part two |

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.9k

����𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: alludes to sexual behavior, mean!ward lol

𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓'𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆: thank you for requesting! i hope this is what you were looking for. i had so much fun writing this. rafe owns my ass. 

“So, I was thinking that you and I should go to Midsummers together.” Rafe suggested out of thin air.

Y/N glanced over at Rafe and let out a light laugh, rolling her eyes. The thought of her at the event was amusing—She would never imagine the idea of Rafe Cameron showing her off to all the Kooks of Outer Banks. She didn’t belong there—unless she was helping the catering company or was working at the club house.

Alongside being amusing, it was also painful. She would love nothing more than to be attending the event of the summer with Rafe, but no one wanted to see them together. No one in Rafe’s life would approve of the Pogue Y/N.

Rafe first took notice of her when she worked at the country club, a popular location for Rafe, Topper, and Kelce. She would be the beverage girl, driving around on each golf course offering overly priced drinks to the Kooks.

Rafe asked two things from Y/N when she pulled around to the course: A natty lite and her phone number. Y/N was thankful that her cheeks were already rosy from the heat, not wanting to boast the eldest Cameron’s ego by her being flustered. She scribbled her number on a random receipt in the cart and handed it to him before she continued to work.

He stood there, amused as she drove away. Rafe didn’t really care if she was a Pogue—she’s gorgeous and she didn’t even check his ID (That’s what he would joke about when he would remind Y/N the moment he fell in love with her.) But maybe it was the way she smiled at him and complimented his hair. (After she complimented his hair, he stopped gelling it back.)

Although, that small motion of asking for her number followed by ridicules from the boys.

“Dude, you can’t date a Pogue.”

“Pretty sure she would just mooch off you and your family.”

“Shut up,” Rafe ended the banter, eyes still following her on the golf course.

That wasn’t the end that Rafe heard of why he shouldn’t date Y/N. But he ignored it all.

The two of them would text before she would finally come over to his house. Rafe and her would sneak onto the Druthers almost every other night. They managed to keep it a secret, keeping it on the down low from his family and friends.

Y/N’s friends on the other hand were just confused as to why Rafe Cameron. She didn’t have an answer either, but she knew it felt right.

The first time Y/N and Rafe got caught was when he thought his father and stepmom were out of town. Well, they were—but they got back sooner than Rafe thought they would. Y/N didn’t have the best first encounter with Ward and Rose as something more than just the cart girl at the country club.

There wasn’t a lot to explain as to what was happening—it was obvious. Y/N was on top of Rafe, a pile of their clothes scattered throughout the living room and paying more attention on each other than the door. The sound of the door slamming caught both of their attentions—but it was too late. Rafe tossed her off his lap right beside him and she scurried to pick up her shirt to cover herself up.

Rose gasped and covered her eyes before walking out of the room. Rafe didn’t quite care for what Rose thought of him and Y/N—but his father? That was a different ball game. He stood there, a blank expression on his face.

Y/N gulped and looked over at Rafe. “You should get going, Y/N. Don’t you have a shift tomorrow at the club?” Ward directed at Y/N. Her eyes widened and nodded her head. She collected her clothes as Ward stared directly at his son.

“See you later, Rafe.” She waved back to her secret boyfriend. “Bye Mr. Cameron.” She finished off, rushing out of the house. Rafe never told her what happened the rest of that night, but she heard through the door “A Pogue, Rafe?” before she left.

 “I don’t think your parents would be thrilled to see me as your date.” She whispered, shaking her head.

“I don’t care what they think, babe.” He pulled her chin towards him, thumb gently rubbing against her skin.

“We know that’s bullshit, Rafe. I have to climb through the window to come see you—and I’m pretty sure your Ring doorbell sees it all. I think your dad is just waiting to catch something good, so you’ll no longer be able to see me.” She trailed off.

He chewed on his lower lip, knowing she had a point. “I don’t care, I love you and you’re going with me to Midsummers. I’ll buy your dress and we can go get you fitted.” He shrugged his shoulders.

“You’re fucking crazy, Rafe.” She stated, but not denying his plan.

A month had passed, and the days got closer and closer to when Y/N will be Rafe’s date, for one of the first times out in public together. Rafe and her coordinated their outfits for the event together. Y/N pinked a lovely, soft light green dress and Rafe had a tie to match.

Y/N’s mother helped her get ready. As her mom styled her hair, she was preoccupied with doing her makeup. She was trying to forget that the fact that she would be sticking out like a sore thumb at the event, but when she looked in the mirror—she didn’t recognize herself at all.

She looked like she could be a Kook.

Her mother drowned her in compliments, a tear rushing down her face. “I’m not getting married mom,” she mumbled, causing her mom to laugh.

“I know, I know. It’s just nice to see yourself so pampered and…you just look lovely.” She complimented once more, fixing a strand of her hair.

Within several minutes, Rafe picked her up at her house. Rafe didn’t come over here often, Y/N never wanted him around here—purely out of embarrassment. He would convince her each day that he doesn’t care, he just wanted to spend time with her. Rafe held her hand the whole time as they drove to the venue.

Just as Y/N didn’t recognize herself in the mirror, neither did most other people. Rafe kept his hand tightly wrapped around hers, giving her occasional squeezes to comfort her. Everything was going well until Topper and Kelce approached them.

“Rafe, you brought Y/N as your date?” Topper asked, dumbfounded at the sight.

“Yea man, isn’t she beautiful?” He ignored the underlying tones in his question. Rafe had a difficult time keeping his hands off of her, if they were to sneak off during the party, no one would be able to find the couple. The light green completed her complexion—Rafe would even compare her to an angel. Her makeup enhanced her features, only and always leaving Rafe in awe.

This was his place to finally show her off—as his girlfriend and not some Pogue.

“Y-Yea,” He managed to spit out before looking over at the girl, “You do look nice, Y/N.” It didn’t feel forced, but Topper was just unsure of everything.

“Not going to lie, you could have me fooled as a Kook,” Kelce commented, eyeing her up and down. It helped that Rafe pitched in money wise for her outfit, she simply wouldn’t have enough with a month’s worth of paychecks and tips.

She smiled at them, thanking them as she held on to Rafe’s arm. Y/N eyes trailed over the crowd of people, eyes landing on Sarah Cameron with her Pogue boyfriend, John B. Sarah offered her a small smile—she was the only one that understood the situation the girl was in. Ward wasn’t too fond of John B at first, but he knew John B only had the best intentions. Sarah didn’t have to worry about taking over the family business—but Rafe did. Ward viewed the Pogue girl as a distraction.

The boys got off the topic of Y/N but started talking about other things that she managed to tune out. Throughout the conversation, she would notice Topper and Kelce sharing glances and looking at her. They were notably uncomfortable, but she couldn’t figure out why.

Until she saw a hand clamp down on Rafe’s shoulder.

The couple turn around and they are face to face with Ward and Rose. “Rafe, we were wondering where you were. You didn’t tell us you had a date,” Ward smiled, eyes trailing over to the girl. “A date with Y/N L/N. You look nice,” his father’s compliment was shorthanded.

“Thank you, sir, both you and Rose look terrific.” Y/N smiled her voice warm and sweet.

“You really should’ve told us, Rafe. We’ve talked about this.” Ward’s voice got quieter and Rafe’s friends went elsewhere.

“Talked about what?”

“That you can’t date a Pogue, Rafe. That hopefully this was just a phase and someone you would keep a secret. Her parents aren’t good people.” Ward commented. Y/N’s eyes opened, and Rose stood beside Ward—offering her a smile.

“Well Dad, I’m dating a Pogue. And I love her. And I think it’s time people finally see it. Look at how beautiful she is? Why does it matter if she’s a Pogue? She doesn’t get to pick the family she’s born into. She’s a hard worker and she pushes me to be better and to do better. If it wasn’t for her, I’d probably be a mess with all the work you give me.” Rafe tried to defend his girlfriend.

“She knows about our business?”

“That doesn’t matter, Dad. Stop picking favorites—I get it. I’m the black sheep of the family and Sarah is the golden child. Does the golden child only have the right to date whoever they want?”

“John B is different, Rafe and you know that.”

“So is Y/N.” Rafe stated.

“Sir, I have no interest in ruining your family business. I know my father made a lot of mistakes, but I’m not him. I work hard to support my family and I don’t care about money. I just care about Rafe and…it’d mean a lot if we can have your approval. But honestly? It wouldn’t matter. What you say won’t stop us.” Y/N spoke confidently.

Ward huffed, looking around. “If you do anything to tarnish our name or our business, you’ll regret dating this Pogue.” Ward spoke to Rafe before him and Rose trailed off to talk to other people.

Y/N looked over at Rafe and she let out a laugh. “I just stood up to your dad and—” She got interrupted by Rafe kissing her passionately.

“You have no idea how much I’m in love with you,” he whispered against her lips.

They both melt into each other’s arms, enjoying the rest of the night. Rafe introduced Y/N as his girlfriend to many of the families, all of them ceasing to pass judgement on the young couple.

Well.

Until they got caught in the bathroom and was escorted to leave.

[mxvladdy]

What do you think would happen if MC (in an attempt to keep it away from him) tucked Goldie under their boob?

[A bra is the best wallet but underneath even a C-cup boob is damn near Fort Knox (or the tower of London, I.e. Impenatrable fortresses)]

lmaooo. Let’s us gather round and pray for Mammon’s remaining sanity. What little remands. The himbo never saw it coming. I’m weak and got a little spicy at the end, apologies if that’s not what you wanted my heart was thirsty for ONE greed man;.;

  A/N I originally called this work Tiity prison bc I have a sense of humor lol.

Hope ya like!

To say he is conflicted is an understatement. Depending on when and where you do the titty lockdown will change how he reacts.

If it's at school, he is a mess. I’m talking about the works. He’s red in the face, can’t focus, and sweating the whole rest of the school day. He is definitely torn between fighting his goldie withdrawals and making a pass at your chest.

He won’t do the latter, as much as he threatens it. He may be scummy but he has a code of conduct (most of the time). You get a kick out of watching him try not to stare at your chest and getting smacked by Lucifer when caught.

If it’s on Lucifer’s orders to keep his card away from him he’ll have a bit more control but will bitch the WHOLE day. Honestly, you might give it back just to shut him up.

He won’t outright grab your chest or physically try to snatch it. He’ll try to be sneaky about it. Dropping stuff and making you bend over to grab it. “I swear I ain’t try nothin’”. Right.

If desperate enough he’ll just downright pick you up off your feet and jiggle you like a piggy bank. Like I said, he has a code of conduct. It’s just kinda flexible sometimes.

“C-come on! Give ‘er back.” Mammon pleads, pulling off his classic bagger’s pout. Good thing you were immune. His toned arms cage you in, your back resting on one of the school’s marble walls. “How am I going to buy lunch?”

“I made you lunch.” You laugh. Ducking under his arms you make your way to the dining hall ignoring his flustered shouts. He’ll follow soon enough. The promise of your cooking and potentially nabbing goldie back was too great for him to ignore. Sure enough, he slinks in a few minutes after you. His shades now out and perched on his nose. Even hidden under the tinted glasses, you could see his flushed cheeks and darting eyes. “Better eat now, Beel is going to join us today.” You say around a mouthful of food. He whines but forces himself to focus on his quickly cooling food.

He follows you even closer than before after lunch, barely a hair’s breadth from your back. His clever fingers pinching and pulling at the bottom of your shirt in the crowded hallway. “Please~” He whimpers through his teeth after your swat his hands away again. “I swear I won’t use her.”

You plop down at your desk. “If you’re not going to use her, then she is safe where she is.” You stick your tongue out and give the boob hiding goldie a lovely squeeze. Mammon groans as if stabbed, teeth bared and fangs growing in a mix of frustration and want. “Babe come on. Ya’ killing me.” His eyes are glued to where your hand rests.

Before you can respond a leather-clad hand smacks Mammon across the back of his head. Mammon yips in fright. “I will kill you first if you don’t keep your eyes up at the board.” The cold warning from Lucifer was enough to shut you both up for the rest of the class. You watch him disappear when the bell chimes. His next period was across campus while you were stuck here for another hour. Your phone buzzes the moment his designer boots disappear out the door.

Pretty Boy: what did you do to Mammon?

You: I have no idea what you’re talking about.

You catch Asmo’s eye from his seat a few rows back from you. He winks at you, thumbs flying across his lit screen.

Pretty Boy: Bull- tell me your secrets. I haven’t seen him that flustered in eons, not since Helen paid a visit.

You: Got “asked” by Lucifer to keep Goldie away from Mammon for the day. A limited edition car he wants just got released. Luci is still paying off Mammon’s last shopping spree, so he’s on ice till tomorrow afternoon.

Pretty Boy: Ouch- you not telling him where it is?

You: Oh no. He knows exactly where it is. He is just too nervous to go for it.

You hear Asmo’s scandalous gasp behind you earning you both a glare from the professor. You bite your tongue to hide a chuckle. The professor turns with a huff, and Asmo starts up all over again.

Pretty Boy: Is it in your pants! Can I take a look ;*

You: No and No.

Pretty Boy: Ah- he was always a chest man. Good luck with that, he can hold out for only so long :)

What does that mean? You whip your head around waiting for an explanation text. Asmo has the gall to ignore you, busy reapplying his lip gloss. Even if he wasn’t looking at you, you knew that impish smile was for you. Turning back around in your seat you shiver, now you weren’t sure if you should be scared or excited.

The rest of the day passes quietly. Too quietly. It gives you the jitters. Every corner of the school could be a potential hiding spot for one conniving demon. You weren’t expecting him to attack you, not outright. Yet, you were expecting some sort of retaliation. The last bell of the day came sooner than you expected and it was time for afterschool activities. Packing your bag you wave off Beel and Satan, assuring them you would be fine to walk to the music and arts wing by yourself.  They had their own clubs to get to anyway.

Making your way to your activity you feel the hair on the back of your neck began to rise. Something wasn’t sitting right with you. You look up and around. No one was in the corridors, not even a stray teacher rushing to the breakroom. Odd. You peak over your shoulder and frown. Even the air was still. Chalking it up to a probably very haunted school, you pick up the pace. Even if you didn’t believe in the ghost stories like Luke, it was best to just never find out. No matter what hallway you took or how fast you walked the feeling of being watched only intensified. Your flight or fight instinct kicked in.

Who could you call if you need help? Where in the hells was Mam- was that your pencil case? You skid to a halt bemused. There, in the middle of the floor was your favorite case. The calico kitty design stares up at you innocently from the floor. You open your bag to double-check. You could have sworn you had thrown it in there after last period. Did it fall out? Had you taken this path before? You approached it cautiously, bending down to grab it.

Strong arms wrap around your waist locking around you like a spring trap. They lift you up and up and up. It was so sudden you could do nothing but squeak in surprise, pencil case clutched tightly to your chest. Were you really going to die here? Caught in such a childish trap...wait.  “Seriously Mammon!” The fear disappears, replaced now with exasperation. He grunts ignoring your words to shake you slightly. You yelp feeling goldie and your bra shift. “Oh, my Gods. Mammon! I know you can do better than this.”

“Shut up! I’m desperate.”

Unbelievable. "That's the best you got? Really, I’m kinda insulted." Mammon stops shaking you, his arms loosening enough for you to turn around to face him. He looks up at you batting his long lashes. “Put me down.” It wasn’t a pact order, but firm. He pouts but sets you back on the ground gently. Not before giving you a hearty squeeze. You catch his hand sneaking up the side of your shirt with a raised brow. "Why didn't you just make a grab for it in the first place?"

He scoffs turning pink. "'M allowed ta just cop a feel whenever I want now?"

"Absolutely not, not in public at least. I like you breathing."

“Could have fooled me,” Mammon chuckles. He glances around the empty hallway then back to you. A slow rolling purr starts deep in his throat. "Though, there is no one here now." Slowly his dexterous fingers glide back over your sides. His touch is searing on your shirt. You could feel goldie pulsing underneath the cotton of your bra. The plastic seemingly growing warmer than your skin as his hand travels closer. You do nothing, watching his face grow hungrier with each passing centimeter as he gets close to his prize. “What’s stopping me now?”

“Just you.” He stops at the side of your chest, eye wide and greedy. You could feel him trying to temper himself. His adrenaline, fear, lust, and his raw cardinal desire thicking the air around you. It all pulsed red hot in his veins and travels down to yours. He wanted more than just goldie now. His natural magnetism pulling you in closer. You wanted him, you wanted him to just take it- take everything. The pact mark slams shut, its heat snuffed out like a candle. "Mammon?" Had your teasing gone too far?

"Hold tight to her till tonight." He growls tapping your chest possessively. His many gold rings resemble talons as he drags his fingers across the stitching of your school uniform. "I'll come for her tonight," He leans in, smoke and leather clouds your sense. "and I'll be taking a tithe for all the trouble you caused me too." His husky promise sends a shiver down your spine, gut twisting in anticipation. Mammon's bright blue eyes jump over your shoulder, a frown grows on his beautiful face, he could hear footsteps approaching from your club room. Probably the angels looking for you. Brushing his lips across your cheek he parts, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Be ready. You know I always come to collect."

[oitommothetease]

Invisible String (15/15)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female reader (Modern AU)

Word Count: 3.2k words

Warning : fluff, smut, Steve being nice for once, mention of assault, healthy communication, drinking, Bec is Bucky’s sister - Rebecca, talk about therapy, fucking on a dressing table, I added the link for the dressing table so it could be easier to imagine lol

Both of you were far from okay, Bucky knew that. You needed time and energy to put in this relationship, and Bucky would patiently wait and giddily put in the work required. 

Just like last time all those months ago, Bucky prepared a plate of fruits with juice for you. If you'd let him in your life, then one thing was sure — you were never having that damn coffee for breakfast. How did you even survive? Breakfast is the most important meal of the day, and Bucky was baffled when he found out you functioned on nothing but caffeine.

 “Good Morning!” he greeted, you were awake and seated on the couch. “I got you breakfast that isn't caffeine.”

You didn't meet his eyes, but smiled timidly nevertheless. You cringed at your immaturity. Getting drunk instead of having a proper conversation like adults was not your wisest decision. Your last conversation was horrid. What was worse was that he was still being so nice to you when all you wanted was for the ground to open and swallow you whole. It was embarrassing.

You avoided his gaze, and Bucky didn't press the matter any further.

You exhaled loudly and requested, “We need to talk.”

Here it was, Bucky thought. He hoped you both could at least have breakfast blissfully, ignoring the elephant in the room. But he assumed the sooner, the better. Bucky took a seat beside you on the office couch.

“I’m sorry.”

 “I’m sorry.”

Both of you apologized at the same time. Bucky continued, “What I did was a fucked up thing to do. I had no right to decide for you. I'm sorry for hurting you.”

 “I’m sorry for handling the situation immaturely. It was dumb to get drunk and act like that.”

Bucky nodded, he didn't need your apology. He was the one who was at fault here. Although, he would never acknowledge this, but he was glad you got drunk and came to him. He wasn’t smart enough to realize his mistake and if he continued with his stubbornness, then he would have lost you.

Instinctively, he took your palm in his, lacing your fingers with his and placing the entwined hands on his lap. “I — The incident with Rumlow and the kidnapping affected me a lot. More than I would like to admit,” you acknowledged, “And I don't think I’m dealing with everything healthily.”

“What do you need me to do?”

You sighed and propped your head on his shoulder. “Just be there for me.”

Bucky raised your intertwined hands, pressing a kiss on your knuckles, “Always.”

“I don't want our bakery to be just a dream,” he sounded so unsure that you raised your head to look at him. “I want to get out of this life — of the club.” 

“Can you even do that?” You weren’t very knowledgeable about his business, but from what you've gathered getting out wasn't an option.

“I talked with Sam and Steve, and it would take a while, but it's not impossible. I’d have to put in a lot of money, and it will take time, maybe even years, but it can be done.”

For the millionth time, Bucky left you speechless. You didn't want him to change his entire life because of you. You loved Bucky and you would take him just the way he was. With his good and bad, albeit there wasn't anything bad. “Do you want that?”

He looked at you in offense. To him, you sounded insane. Of course, he wanted that. All he ever wanted was a serene life, and now he could have that life with you in it, you were double guessing your worth. Maybe he didn't think this through, but there was no need to question his choice. Bucky was sure of one thing in his life. “I want you. I want you in my life and I want my ma and Bec. And I can't have the most important people in my life if I don’t leave this behind. So yes, this is what I want.”

You smiled at him, and he would kill to make that smile a permanent residence on your face, you didn’t want him to make this crucial decision in his life because of you.

“Plus, maybe some chocolate essence would finally break you out of your writer's block,” Bucky teased, quoting the words you said to him all those days ago and you giggled.

The rest of the morning was spent in comfortable silence as you both ate breakfast.

Bucky wanted to tell his friends about his decision, and he wanted you there beside him. You were terrified, you finally made friends with someone, and now they were going to hate you because you were taking their friend away from him. And Steve already hated you, that wasn't the impression you were planning on forming on his best friend.

To your dismay, everyone looked pleased with the verdict. Turns out, all of them hated hiding their families too. You should have known — worrying every second about your loved ones could make one very restless. 

It was finally decided that the club would just be that — a club. No more side businesses or illegal deals or enemies like Rumlow — it would just be a normal club. The club would go to Sam and Steve, and Wanda would take Clint’s place as the manager. It was also collectively decided that Peter had to go. He was just a kid who wanted to make money for his college tuition. Which now would be paid fully by Bucky. Peter could still work at the club as a part-time job, but he had to go to college too.

It was satisfying to see all of them so content with this decision. You expected at least Steve to interject, but he looked pleased too. What you did not expect was for Steve to approach you and start a conversation with you. You were just standing on the balcony while everyone was celebrating. You told Bucky you needed some air when he asked you what was wrong.

“He really likes you, you know.” 

“I hope so,” you joked, and you saw a smile forming on Steve's lips. Progress, you thought to yourself.

“I haven't been the nicest person to you and I’m sorry for that.”

You looked at Steve in disbelief. Okay, you weren't expecting that. “I don’t know why you hate me. I mean, we barely know each other,” you replied, honestly.

Steve inhaled sharply as he said, “I knew Buck since we were kids. He never hid anything from me until a few months ago.”

What has that to do with you? You looked at him puzzled and he continued, “He attacked Rumlow. Around 3 months ago, he attacked him and we never attack first — always retaliate. That's why Rumlow came after you because Bucky started the fight. I knew it had something to do with you, but he just wouldn't tell me.”

And just like that, you knew exactly what he was talking about. The timing matched with Rumlow’s attempt to inappropriately touch you without consent. 

“I — Rumlow came here during my shift,” you stammered, you didn't know how to tell him. You wanted to heal, you wanted people to know on your accord with your permission. And you wanted Steve to know. “I told him no - several times, but he just wouldn’t stop touching.”

You wanted to be able to talk about this without breaking down every time. And that was a good enough start, you knew Bucky would be proud of you.

Steve's expression morphed into one of guilt immediately. He was smart enough to join the dots, and he felt like an idiot for blaming you and Bucky. “I’m so sorry.”

 “Don't be,” you smiled at him, “You didn't know.”

Steve didn’t know how to react. He felt like a dick — he was a dick for not even considering your point of view. Bucky kept saying that he couldn't tell and Steve should have understood or taken the hint, but he was so mad at you that it blinded his judgement.

The conversation turned uneasy, so you quickly changed the topic and retorted to a joke. “Did you know that Bucky owns a customized t-shirt that says ‘I heart Y/N’?”

Steve chortled a laugh and said, “Now that I do, I’m never gonna stop teasing him about it.”

“It was cute, okay?” you defended.

“Sure it was,” he huffed, “Would you and Bucky like to come for dinner this weekend? Sarah misses her Uncle Bucky and to date Bucky for real you would definitely need her approval.”

***

You examined yourself in the mirror as you straightened the outfit you decided to wear for dinner. You wondered whether it would impress a four-year-old.

Bucky stood behind you, fixing the collar of his shirt.

“I’m kinda nervous,” you confessed.

He furrowed his brows in bewilderment, snaking his arms around you from behind, pulling you against his chest. He whispered in your ears, sending a chill down your spine. “You look gorgeous, doll.”

You sighed, resting your head on his shoulder. He gently rubbed his thumbs along your clothed stomach, and you felt calmer. His touch had that effect on you. His touch and presence was enough to make you feel content and for the first time in your life, you weren’t scared. You weren't running away from your vulnerabilities — no, you were swimming into it. And you weren't scared of drowning because you knew Bucky was holding you.

 “I love you,” you breathed, “I love you so much, Buck.”

Bucky extended one of his hands towards your face and gently held your chin between his fingers. Lightly, he rubbed his thumb across your lower lip before lifting your face sideways, claiming your lips with his in a tender and slow kiss. “I love you so much, doll. More than humanly possible.”

Your eyes brimmed with tears and you kissed him again reverently, “Do we have time to spare?” 

“We always have time,” Bucky mumbled against your lips, turning you in his arms to face him. 

Both of you were so eager to feel each other that you didn't even get rid of your clothes completely — just enough to feel the other. He held your hips and lifted you on the dressing table, and you facilitated by spreading your legs open.

Bucky didn't waste a second before diving his tongue inside your mouth, making you feel dizzy with just the intensity of the kiss. One hand in your hair, the other running up your back to hold your neck, craning your skull to give him better access to your mouth. He devoured you like you were a delicious meal that he was starving to taste. 

The hand in your hair hastened towards your breast, squeezing your covered nipple enough to make you gasp into his mouth and get your core wet. He did the same with the other before his hand continued its journey towards your cunt.

Bucky didn't waste any time — quickly, he pushed your dripped panties out of his way and his fingers teased your slit before one digit made its way inside you. His mouth left yours, and he nibbled your jaw and reached the lobe of your ear before whispering, “I’ve barely touched you and you're already so wet for me, pretty girl.”

Before you could react to his lewd words, another finger entered your willing cunt and you clenched around him. “Bucky,” you breathed, your voice barely audible with the intensity of your oncoming orgasm. “Want you now, baby.”

Suddenly, his digits retreated, leaving you empty, whimpering and clenching around nothing. He gave a few quick strokes to his already hard cock before plunging inside you and muffling your cries by crashing his lips with yours. 

He gave you time to adjust to his length and when you nodded, he started thrusting in an enticing speed that had you grasping him around your cunt. Every push of his cock had you seeing stars. All that pent-up anticipation and sexual frustration had you coming in no time, but Bucky didn't relent. “Give me one more, sweet girl.”

His hand reached in between your bodies, instantly locating your clit, and you moaned loudly against his shoulder. Bucky toyed with your ear lobe, gently biting then moving downwards to the spot between your neck and clavicle. He licked before sucking harshly and then licking again to soothe the pain. You held his back so tightly that you were sure it must be hurting him, but he didn't complain, instead he growled in your ear as you tried to hold him inside you — tighter than before.

His hand was running calculated circles on your clit combined with his ruthless pace, and you were reaching your second orgasm faster than you imagined. “Bucky, I’m gonna —”

“I know, baby,” he groaned in your ear, increasing his pace, and a moment ago you didn't think that was possible.

You both reached your high together as he released his seed inside you, and that solely had you nearing your third orgasm. Bucky noticed and smirked before his still hand started running circles on your bundle of nerves again and gave you a few languid thrusts that made you reach the euphoria where you hadn't been before.

He held you, brushing your hair off your face, rubbing his thumb across your forehead to rid you of the sweat, praising you for being such a good girl for him. Once you were back from the land of bliss, he cleaned you both up before straightening your dress out — making you appear like he didn't fuck your brains out on a dressing table.

***

“Traffic,” you lied while Bucky smirked as he placed his hand on the small of your back.

Sam looked at you - both of you with a playful look in his eyes and Steve bought your lie without a second question.

As you entered the living room, you were met with a kid that reminded you a lot of Alec and Izzy. “Uncle Bucky,” she squealed before jumping in the arms of a bent down Bucky.

She stretched a hand towards you and said, “Sarah.”

You smiled at her and took her hand in yours before giving her your name. She looked at you with so much delight in her eyes that had you melting in a second. Oh, that reminded you, “Babe, the cake.”

“Oh, right,” Bucky scrambled to his feet and made his way towards the car to bring the gift you two brought for the family.

“Did you make it, Uncle Bucky,” Sarah asked as Bucky handed her the cake. She grinned when he nodded, “I’m gonna eat all of this myself.”

Bucky smiled, “It's all for you, sweetie.”

She held the cake in one hand and your hand in another before rushing into the kitchen with you.

Sam handed Bucky a glass of a drink that he didn't even notice because his gaze was fixed on you helping Steve and Sarah. You said something to Steve and he laughed loudly. When did you and Steve become friends? He wondered.

“Traffic, huh?” Sam teased Bucky once his daughter was out of their hearing range. Bucky nearly choked on the drink and coughed in embarrassment.

Sam eyed Bucky mischievously and told him to take a seat on the table. Bucky didn't listen and if he did then he pretended to ignore Sam’s words and made his way to the kitchen - to you.

You yelped when you felt two strong hands engulf you from behind, calming down only when Bucky chuckled and whispered in your ear, “Hey, it's only me, doll.”

Eventually, everyone made their way to the dinner table. The food was amazing, some of it was made by Sam - some of it by Steve. Sam’s cooking was clearly better, but Bucky told you not to tell him that because then Sam would get all smug about it. Bucky’s hand rested on your upper thigh for the entirety of the meal.

It brought you back to the time when you both were at your parents’ place and even then the gesture was so welcomed by your body and you. Although you always told him about how inappropriate a relationship with him would be, you secretly hoped that he would call you out on your bullshit. Anyone with eyes could see that you wanted him since the very beginning. Well, anyone except Bucky.

After dinner, Sarah went to bed and it was just you, Bucky, Sam and Steve situated in their living room with a drink in everyone’s hand. 

“The cake was amazing,” you told Bucky when he took a seat beside you on the sofa. Bucky wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you closer and held your outer thighs with his other before placing you on his lap. You wrapped your hands around his shoulder and awkwardly looked around at Sam and Steve, exhaling in relief when you found them busy in their own conversation, oblivious to their friend’s antics.

“I can make cakes forever for you, doll.”

“Well, you'd have to make cakes forever if you wanna open a bakery,” you sassed and he laughed before pressing a kiss to your cheek.

You beamed at him, placing your head against his shoulder, “I’ve been thinking. With everything that has happened with Rumlow and my family. I think I’ve not dealt with all of it and it still bothers me.”

Nervously, you looked at him and found him already gazing at you with a look so patient and intense. You could see his adoration for you swirl around his eyes and you hoped he could see that same emotion reflecting in your eyes.

“And I don’t want to burden you with my shit, I think I’m gonna start therapy.”

He cupped your face in his palms and you looked at him anxiously. It was a big step - your relationship with him - finally acknowledging that you carried trauma that is affecting your life in more ways that you would like to admit. “Whatever you need, honey. I will be there for you.”

You leaned into his touch, craning your neck before pressing a kiss on his palm. “Did you think you'd be crazy for me when I walked in for the bartender's job?”

He laughed at your teasing words, holding your chin between his fingers and dipped his head down to kiss you. “I love you,” he mumbled against your lips, “And I have a feeling that we’ll be alright.” 

“We’ll be alright,” you repeated his words. It was a promise of a happy and hopeful future - a future you were going to have with him. ”I love you.” You sealed the promise with your lips on his.

⁓

TAGS: @bananapipedreams​ @akkinda10​ @rivers-rambles21​ @emmabarnes​ @valsworldofcreativity​ @boofy1998​ @marvel-3407​ @mybuck​ @priii​ @coffeebooksandfandom​ @ladydmalfoy​ @shaking-a-jar-of-bees @elizamalfoyy​ @maladaptivexxdaydreaming​ @sabrinathesimp @realgaytrash​ 

Taglist for future stuff. 

A/N - I had an epilogue planned but idk - this feels very complete to me and I'm scared that if I add anything then it'll ruin the end. I think I'll take a day, think it through, try writing the epilogue and if I ended up liking it. Then of course, you'll get it. Bye Take care!! 

[beyondtheborderridiculous]

Mankai Stage Summer 2022

Aaaaah, this is a review that is long overdue, and since it’s been a while since I’ve watched it, I won’t even be able to do it justice. But life got away from me, so I haven’t really been active in the Tumblr and A3/Mankai Stage community for a while, and I miss it so much!!! And I haven’t had much time to translate, so Autumn is taking longer than it should, and apologies to everyone who’s been waiting!

But alas, onto the review.

First of all, I am continually amazed by how the casting is just so... PERFECT!!! The actor for Kumon, is just, so perfectly Kumon. 

The performance opens with Kumon having an anxiety attack. And then as the lights dim, we transition to a very different opening scene.

The scene opens with Kumon’s point of view, as he’s recording all the happenings that’s going on backstage while Natsugumi is performing Water Me. And I don’t know if I can explain this scene well, but it’s just. So well done. It’s so creative how they did this and I absolutely adore it! You can see the actors both backstage and onstage, and it must’ve taken a lot of coordination to be able to pull that off.

Then a rewind in time happens, where we first see Kumon get introduced to the company, saying he wants to join Akigumi. Everything that happens after pretty much follows the story.

And gahhh, I wish I wrote this review sooner, because I can’t remember much of it, so I might just rewrite this review when I watch it again once it comes out on DVD.

But anyway, I stinking looove the relationship between the Hyodo-Sakisaka cousins!!! It’s so beautiful to finally be able to see it on stage!

One of my favorite scenes has got to be Misumi introducing his room to his new roommate. The song was very cute, and just the staging for it is phenomenal. It’s so different from their previous stages, that I’m still thrown off, but still, it’s so good!

Azami also got introduced, and omfggg... He’s so perfect as Azami too! And it was also funny to watch the troupe realize that he’s super influenced by Sakyo. He and Kumon just become such cute friends.

Also, I’m really surprised by how big this franchise has gone. In their other stages, they would only hire one extra (Mizuno, Ryou, Madoka) that wasn’t really part of the main reoccurring cast (Matsukawa, Yuzo). But here we had both Igawa (Tenma’s manager) and Yamaguchi (Kumon’s club friend). But then again, in Spring, Masumi’s dad had his secretary too, and he had a speaking role as well. Oh geez, look how much this franchise has grown.

Also, another favorite scene of my hands down, has got to be Natsugumi dressing up as girls to cheer Kumon up! Kazunari went all out with the trends, throwing the gyaru peace sign here and there, lol. And then JUZA!!! Juza tries so hard to act like a girl, and it’s just so awkward, and clumsy and so hilarious!!! I died, lololol. It was soooo cute too.

The play portion was also very cute. Yuki was super adorable as usual. But to be honest, it’s not my favorite play from the game, probably because I’m not really that much of a sports person. But to my memory, the stage’s play was pretty faithful to the play in the game.

Overall, I enjoyed this play very very much. I love Kumon, and I love his story, since I relate to crippling anxiety so much. And I just think Mankai Stage did my baby justice, just like usual.

[peaceisadirtyword]

Move On VII (Modern!Ivar/Reader)

A/N: Hello!🥰 It’s 2am and I can't sleep, I have a terrible headache and everything hurts (I’m getting my period this week lol) so I thought I’d try to finish the chapter and post it so I’d feel a bit more productive. I had a lot of deadlines and exams these past weeks because I finished some courses and started new ones. Now I have a week of holidays but I can't relax :( I’ve been sick too, so I barely had time to focus on writing. This chapter might suck, but I’d try to fix it with the next one (which if everything goes well I’ll post this week too!). There’s only three chapters left after this one, so at least try to enjoy it!💞 Thank you for all the comments and the messages🙏🏻 I’ll try to answer to all of them!

Warnings: angst, a bit of fluff, Ivar, talk of jealousy, mentions of harassment (this part is complicated, it’s nothing very detailed, but basically mentions of someone trying to flirt, making unwanted advances and putting a woman on an uncomfortable situation, don’t read that part if it triggers you, it was difficult to write and I can imagine it can be difficult to read💕)

Words: 3553

Move On Masterlist

gif belongs to @timotay-chalamet

my boy Hvitty by @honestsycrets

For a moment, Ivar's face softened enough for you to let your guard down. He sighed and sat on your bed, running his hand through his hair. 

"You were with Freydis two days ago, right?"

You tensed up. Was it what you thought it was?

"Yes, we went to a club together... Well, not together, on the same group..."

"And..." he bit his lip "Y/N, did you see her kissing someone?" 

You sighed, sitting down next to him. You might wanted to hit him, yell at him and kick him out of your flat, but at the same time you didn't want him hurt. You didn't want him feeling what you were feeling. 

"Who told you?" 

"Hvitserk" he shrugged "It's true or not?" 

"Yes, Ivar" you said softly. Your hand touched his shoulder hesitantly, trying to give him some type of comfort without making him feel uncomfortable. Ivar wasn't one that liked physical contact with someone that wasn't his partner "I went to the bathroom because I didn't feel well" you muttered "And when I got out I saw her leaving the club with a guy, and they kissed" 

He nodded slowly. For a moment you thought he'd cry. 

"I'm sorry, I would have told you sooner but I..."

"I don't believe you" he moved abruptly to push your hand away, and turned to glare at you with his jaw clenched "I think you're making this up" 

You raised an eyebrow. The urge of slapping him came back stronger than ever. 

"What?"

"I think you're jealous" he narrowed his eyes "I think you're lying"

You gasped, shaking your head and rubbing your eyes. 

"Why would I lie to you, Ivar?" 

"Because you are in love with me" he stared at you with a serious face. He actually believed it "You want me to leave Freydis and go back to you"

You stood up, glaring at him and biting your tongue to hold yourself back from yelling a string of insults at him. 

"When have I ever lied to you?" you nearly trembled in rage. 

"I don't know, Y/N" he glared back at you "You tell me"

"Never" you spat "Never in my entire life I lied to you Ivar, and yes, I might be in love with you, I will always love you, and that's exactly why I would never even imagine to make up something like this to hurt you" the tears threatened to fall down your cheek but you refused to let them, he didn't deserve those tears "I would never hurt you in purpose, I'm not like you" 

He clenched his jaw again and looked away. 

"I'm tired of you treating me like shit, I don't deserve it" you shook your head "And I don't care how much I miss you, I'm not letting you come to my house to call me a liar, Ivar"

He rolled his eyes with an annoyed expression. You wondered why he even bothered to come and ask you if he didn't believe it. 

"I love Freydis, Y/N" 

"I know" you shrugged, your heart broke a bit more if it was even possible, but you managed to hide it. 

"And she loves me" he insisted "And she makes me feel special, and she made me realize that I am special" he shrugged "She wouldn't lie to me"

You took a deep breath, shaking your head. 

"You can believe whatever you want, I just told you what I saw"

"Fine" he rolled his eyes again "But don't go around telling everyone"

"So you don't believe me?" you asked softly. 

This time Ivar hesitated. He stared at you for a couple of seconds before frowning and looking down. 

"I don't know" he muttered "I'll talk to her" 

You nodded. He stood up with some difficulty, groaning and grabbing his leg with a grimace. You bit your lip and looked at him carefully. You didn't remember the last time his eyes were so blue, and his movements were much slower and accompanied with soft groans. But you chose not to say anything, he wasn't in the mood. 

"Ivar" you said softly when he was about to open the door. He didn't turn around, but he stood still "You said she makes you feel special... Did I ever make you feel like that?"

You didn't even know why you asked that. It was something that had been on your mind ever since he broke up with you, even if it wouldn't make a difference now, at least you'd know if he had felt something that was at least close to what you felt for him. If he had loved you, even if it was only once. Because that would mean you had been enough. 

Ivar hesitated. He stood there, with his head lowered and breathing heavily. Then he opened the door and left the room. 

When he reached the living room, he glared at Alfred again, who seemed relieved to see him leaving.

"The two of you can... Go back to whatever you were doing" he scoffed, but Alfred caught him clenching his jaw at the sight "She's good in bed, if you don't believe me ask my brother"

"I think you should leave, Ivar" he stayed still, not letting him see that he had bothered him. 

He rolled his eyes, but left the flat closing the door roughly. As soon as he had left, Alfred stood up and approached your bedroom. He knocked on the door, even if it was widely open. He heard you sniffing inside but waited patiently until you responded. 

"Yeah... Come in" 

You were sitting on the bed, drying your tears with the back of your hands. 

"Hey" he sat next to you as you took a deep breath. It was like going back to the beginning. Would it ever end? "Are you okay? What did he tell you? Want me to call someone?"

You shook your head. You weren't in the mood to see anyone else right now. 

"I'm sorry, this was a disaster again" you muttered, sniffing. 

"It's fine, it's not your fault" he caressed your arm softly "I really enjoyed dinner with you, let's ignore your ex barging into your house part" 

You giggled, rubbing your face and shaking your head. 

"We can... Eat dessert?" you shrugged "Try and fix this" 

"Sure" Alfred smiled "I think you could use a bit of chocolate"

________________________________________

For the first time in months, he didn't feel like seeing Freydis. Ivar was furious, and for the first time he couldn't really blame anyone but himself. He didn't really believed Hvitserk when he mentioned Freydis cheating, but he went to see you anyway. He wanted to hear that Hvitserk lied from you, because he trusted you.

But then you confirmed it, and he convinced himself you were just jealous and trying to break them up. But it wasn't like you. Besides, you had sex with his brother and were in the middle of a date (was it a date?) with Alfred. It seemed like you were trying to move on. 

Now he had doubts. Serious doubts. And he didn't really know how to deal with it. He never had this problem with you. Should he just ask her? Or maybe throw hints until she said something? 

Ivar yawned and rubbed his eyes. He was so tired he felt like passing out at any moment. Now he wasn't only in pain and stressed about Freydis' possible cheating, but he was also thinking about what you'd be doing with the fucking Alfred after that dinner. 

He didn't even know why he didn't answer your question. A simple 'yes' would have been enough, and maybe the two of you would feel better afterwards. Ivar missed you, and even if he was angry at you and Hvitserk for fucking, he thought he'd like to be friends with you again, when things had calmed down a bit. But after his own reaction seeing you move on with other people he wasn't sure he could do it.

"Ivar?" Freydis' sweet voice startled him. He heard the front door closing and her steps towards his bedroom. He had given her a spare key, and now he was regretting it. 

She opened the door without knocking, and her beautiful face lightened up when she saw him. 

"Hi..." He cleared his throat, his voice weak and tired. She pouted and frowned in worry, moving to kneel on the bed next to him.

"Are you feeling well? Do you need anything, my love?" she kissed his forehead softly. Ivar frowned and, for the first time during their relationship, he moved his head away. 

"I'm fine" he lied "Just tired" 

She caressed his face and he felt uncomfortable. Should he just...?

"Ivar" she muttered "You know you can tell me everything, right?" 

His eyes found hers again. Freydis didn't stop smiling even if she obviously noticed his cold demeanor. 

"I love you" she insisted "More than anyone else, you are the most special person I've ever met, and I'd do anything for you" she whispered into his ear "You know that, you know you're the most important person for me" 

Ivar nodded slowly. She told him ever single day how much she loved him. With words, whispering into his ear and giving him sweet kisses that clouded his mind. Freydis looked at him like he was the only man in the world. She would never betray him. 

"Yeah" he relaxed into her arms "I know"

_______________________________________

"Ivar, please, talk to me" you sighed, leaving your coat on the back of the couch with a sigh "What's wrong?"

You knew what was wrong, you had seen it on his face. But you were determined to make him talk, to make him tell you what was wrong so the two of you could talk about it and work it out. 

He kept scowling, looking away and clenching his jaw, and he sat on the couch and threw his crutch on the floor without looking at you. 

After nearly a month too busy to spend time with each other, Ivar had managed to get reservations for one of the most expensive restaurants in town. One of those you couldn't even imagine to glance at the door when you walked past it. It was incredibly hard to get a table in there, but the Lothbroks had contacts, and no one on his right mind would refuse a reservation to Ivar. 

You were so excited, and treated yourself to an entire day of self-care, with a relaxing bath, facial masks and shopping for new lingerie to spend the night with him after one of the most stressing months of your life. You wore a light blue, silk dress that felt soft and comfortable around your body. Ivar's eyes flashed when he saw you, and you couldn't stop smirking for a few minutes. You felt sexy, confident and desired, and couldn't wait to get home so you could enjoy his attention in a more intimate atmosphere. 

But Ivar wasn't the only one that appreciated your outfit. The waiter at the restaurant seemed to like it too, and he made it clear since the beginning. 

You had raised an eyebrow at the first comment, but smiled softly and thanked him when he called you "beautiful lady". Ivar didn't like it, and he glared at the man until he left. Ignoring your boyfriend, the waiter kept flirting with you, no matter how Ivar cut him off and interrupted him whenever he started talking to you. 

Until he had exploded. He practically threatened the waiter with a cold, calmed voice. It had scared you, as you knew he was unpredictable and could lose his temper very easily. 

During the ride back home, he hadn't said a word. Instead, he held your hand and kept you close. Until the two of you reached his flat and you couldn't stand it anymore. 

"Ivar" you insisted, sitting next to him "Are you angry at me?"

He looked at you briefly, and shrugged. 

"No" 

That relieved you. At least he didn't blame you. As a woman, you had to deal with that kind of situations during your entire life, and most times you got blamed, saying you dressed too 'provocative' and that men had instincts. It wasn't nice, it was actually very uncomfortable and you never knew what to say. You thought that if they saw you were with your boyfriend they wouldn't say anything, but apparently they didn't respect any of you. 

"I didn't..."

"It's not your fault, Y/N" he rolled his eyes "I'm just angry" 

"Then talk to me, tell me what's wrong" 

"A guy just spent an hour and a half flirting with you on my face, Y/N" he scoffed "He stared at you and kept flirting even if I was there with you" 

"I know" you sighed "I'm sorry, I didn't engage with him, I ignored him but he kept..."

"He did it because I can't walk, Y/N"

You raised an eyebrow. 

"I'm sure that wasn't the main reason"

"Not the main reason, the main reason is obvious" he growled, rubbing his eyes "But I can assure you, if you had been there with Ubbe or Hvitserk he wouldn't have done it" 

"Ivar..."

"You know it" 

"Ivar, you know I don't care about that" you sighed "We have this conversation every single day, and we will keep having it until you realize that I love you"

Ivar stood silent. Yes, you did tell him that constantly, but he couldn't help but wonder when you'd realize he wasn't worth it. 

"Hey" you insisted. He sighed and shook his head.

"Are you okay?" He turned to look at you "Do you need me to go back there with my brothers and kick his ass?" 

You giggled, shaking your head and moving closer to him. 

"No, I'm fine" you kissed his cheek "I'm sorry that idiot ruined our night" 

Ivar hummed as you pouted, leaning your head on his shoulder.

"We still have time to fix it" his eyes fixed on the dress you were wearing. It infuriated him, but he could understand why the guy at the restaurant was so obsessed with you. 

You smiled softly. He looked more relaxed, and he finally leant against your body.

"Y/N, can you promise me something?" 

You raised your head, frowning softly at him when he sounded too serious. 

"I... Think so?"

"If you ever feel attracted to someone else, if you feel like you're falling in love with someone else..."

"Ivar..."

"No, let me finish" he shook his head "Please tell me first"

"I don't think that will happen, but I promise I'll tell you" you pressed your forehead against his "I would never cheat on you, Ivar, and believe me when I say I can't even think about looking at other people" 

He understood that feeling. Ivar saw beautiful women everyday, he wasn't blind and he looked at them, but at the end of the day you were the only one he wanted. For him, you were the most beautiful person in the world. 

Ivar leant in to kiss you softly. You smiled against his lips and your arms went around his neck to pull him closer. The night might had started as a disaster, but the two of you intended to fix that.

________________________________________

"So you still intend to go to that wedding" Hvitserk raised an eyebrow when he saw the store you were leading him to "After everything that happened" 

You shrugged, biting your lip. 

"Torvi and Ubbe called to make sure I was going, and I still feel bad for talking to her like that..."

"Don't" he rolled his eyes "You were right, she's just excited because if you dated Alfred you'd join their club"

"What club?" you chuckled "I'm not going to date Alfred, or anyone, for a while. She knows that" you shrugged.

Hvitserk finished his cigarette and looked at the store again. 

"So you brought me to find a dress" he sighed "I thought you said you had a fun plan for today" 

"And what is better than shopping for clothes, Hvitty?" You giggled "Besides, I'm sure you need a suit too! Because you're coming, right?" 

You knew Hvitserk wasn't very excited about the wedding. He didn't really get along with Ubbe anymore, and Torvi had made very clear she didn't like him. But you couldn't attend without him. Hvitserk had became your rock, your main support and the only one that seemed to understand every single thing that went through your mind. 

"I don't know..." 

"Please" you pouted "Please, Hvitty, I need you there" you tilted your head. 

"You're going with Alfred, aren't you? Why do you need me there then?" 

"I can go with you too" you smiled softly "Or you can invite Thora" you winked "But please, don't leave me alone with them" 

He sighed, low-key enjoying the fact that you needed him there. He was going to go with you anyway, but he wanted to hear you begging a bit. 

"Okay" he shrugged "But if my family gets annoying, we're leaving" 

You nodded with a wide smile on your face and jumped to hug him tightly. Hvitserk couldn't help but smile and hug you back, turning his head to kiss your temple softly. 

"Was Ivar too harsh the other day?" he asked, on a more serious tone, as soon as the hug ended. He has wanted to kill his brother when he learnt (after Alfred called him and bitterly implied that he should control Ivar better) that he had practically bursted into your flat.

Your expression changed, and your smile faded. Hvitserk felt a bit guilty, but he truly wanted to know. 

"No" you shrugged "He was... Ivar, he said I was making things up because I was jealous, and then proceeded to explain to me that he loved Freydis, and that she makes him feel special and yeah" you rolled your eyes, walking to the store.

"She just knows what he wants to hear" Hvitserk shook his head, opening the door so you could step into the store "She inflates his ego, that's all, it's not love, its manipulation"

"Maybe she does love him" you sighed, shaking your head "They seemed to be much closer than we were"

"Maybe" he shrugged "I just know my brother was in love with you, but now I barely recognize him" 

You opened your mouth to say something, but a woman approached you with a wide smile. 

"Hello! Can I help you?" 

____________________________________

"I'd pick that one" Hvitserk had put his head inside the changing room, making you jump and look at him through the mirror. 

"Do you think so? I liked the red one"

He raised an eyebrow.

"You always wear red"

You bit your lip. He was right, you always wore red. Maybe because it was Ivar's favorite color, because you liked the way he looked at you when he saw you dressed in red. How he'd smile and kiss you deeply before whispering into your ear how beautiful you looked. 

Maybe because you liked it.

"I know what you're thinking" Hvitserk shook his head entering the changing room and closing the door. He didn't seem to care about the warning the woman had given him earlier "Your eyes lighten up and you get that enamored expression and yeah, I know what you're thinking"

"I don't know what you're talking about" you smiled with an innocent expression.

Hvitserk rolled hie eyes.

"You look pretty in red, we all agree on that, but this one" he pointed at the dress you were trying "You look like a fucking goddess with this one, you could come and break my heart with this on and I'd thank you" 

You giggled, shaking your head. The silk dress was black and tight around your body, but width under your hips. It had a split that exposed your right leg, and it was truly beautiful. Hvitserk chose it, and even if you felt a bit awkward, you kind of liked it.

"Maybe I'll take this one" you muttered, caressing the soft fabric. 

"It would be rude to look better than the bride" he winked at you. 

"Shut up" you laughed "You're too sweet, Hvitty, I wish I was in love with you" 

He smiled softly at you. 

"I wish I was in love with you too, you're like my soulmate" 

"Maybe we are soulmates" you turned to look at him with a smirk "But friend soulmates" 

"I agree" he winked at you again. You were used to Hvitserk's flirty tone, and this time you wished you could feel something more than friendly love for him. Things would be much easier if you had fallen in love with him.

"Thank you, Hvitty" you pouted. You took his hands and looked at him "You're helping me so much and you're my best friend, and you didn't have to cope with me and my breakdowns" 

He shook his head with a smile and moved to hug you again. You relaxed against his body. 

"You're literally the sweetest person in the world, Y/N" he muttered "Now, I'm going to get out before that woman thinks we're fucking and calls the police"

________________________________________

Tags: @mblaqgi @alicedopey @lol-haha-joke @hallowed-heathen @naaladareia @tephi101 @captstefanbrandt @love-hate-love @titty-teetee @readsalot73 @moondustmemories @therealcalicali @blushingskywalker @awkwardfangirl02 @gruffle1 @justacripple @love-dria @heartbeats-wildly @letsrunawaytotomorrow @inforapound @sallydelys @hellogabysblog @winchesterwife27 @hecohansen31 @youbloodymadgenius @xinyourdreamsx @funmadnessandbadassvikings @eteramfools @tgrrose @lifeisabitchandsoareyou @lovessce @tootie-fruity @didiintheblog @alexhandersenx @belovedcherry @fantasydevil2002 @xceafh @astrape-the-weatherwitch @destynelseclipsa @poisonous00 @littlebear423 @justbloodlydreaming @xbellaxcarolinax @soleil-dor @geekydane-post @katarokkar11 @crackhead1-800 @momowhoo @pedrolorian @flokisdaughter @crazybunnyladysworld @anotherfan07 @heavenly1927 @jungkxxkk @satanhalsey @nanahachikyuu @cocovikings23​ 

[petersnya]

SOMETIMES PT.3

PETER PARKER X FEM!READER

Warnings: Angst (alotttt. I’m sorry lol)

Word count:1873

[A/N] So that there’s no smut in this part but it is SO worth it (trust me I hate when there’s no smut but this part is so SO GOOD)this part kinda like, BROKE my heart… ok it DID break my heart…  SEND ME YOUR FEEDBACK AND LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT TO BE ADDED TO THE TAG LIST FOR EACH CHAPTER! ENJOY… (send a request for anything you want me to write or if you have any ideas)

-J.T.S xxx

PART ONE  PART TWO

Ever since the incident at the drive-in theater, Y/N has been avoiding Peter. Whenever MJ, Peter, and Ned would walk out of school together, Y/N wouldn’t be leaning out of the window of the car smiling and waving at them. She would have the window rolled up and looked either straight out the ahead or down at her phone. 

Peter told Ned about the whole situation but didn’t tell MJ. He knew she would kill him because Y/N is her cousin and their like sister towards each other. 

“Peter I don’t know what your gonna do, but you gotta do it fast cause sooner or later MJs’ gonna find out and your not only gonna lose the girl you have a major crush on but also your best friend,” Ned pointed out to Peter. Peter didn’t want to admit it but he was right. He had to come out with the truth to Y/N one way or another. He had to tell her that he does like her and that he lied about the stark internship. 

He had to tell her that he was Spider-Man.

“Yeah Ned, I guess you right.”

“I am right Pete. Now go get your Princess Leia,” Ned teased as the bell rang, signaling that it was time for them to leave. The two boys made their way out of the building, talking about their project they still had yet to finish. They didn’t see MJ around like how she usually is until they heard familiar voices coming from behind them. 

“Here’s your schedule and your and the supply list. You can also sign up for clubs if you would like,” an administrator said.

“I’ll think about it. That you so much.” there it was. That voice. It was Y/N talking to the administrator. But I thought she was homeschooled? Peter thought to himself, trying to wrap his mind around what was going on. It’s not like it was a bad thing that Y/N was coming to Midtown, but MJ told him that she really wasn’t the type to go to school. She hated big crowds of people and was never really good at making friends. 

“Ok well, I can’t wait to have you as a new student at Midtown!”

Peter and Ned looked at each other with wide eyes then turned fully around to see who was behind them, even though they already knew by the voices. “Peter…”

“Ned,” he said to the tan boy next to him. They were both in shock by what they just heard.

“Y/N’s going to Midtown?” they said in sync. 

“Yes, she is,” MJ added as she and her cousin walked over to stunned boys. Ned sent them both a smile and Y/N sent him one back with a small ‘hi’. Peter couldn’t help but notice that something was different about her. 

She’s not wearing her glasses.

The four of them walked out of the building together, telling Y/N about all the teachers and classes at the high school. She also explained that she was tired of being homeschooled and wanted to have something to do outside of her one personal bubble. This new information didn’t make much sense to Peter. She seemed so happy when she was at home from what he could see. 

Ned said goodbye to the two girls before heading over to the bus, beckoning Peter over. 

“Later MJ, b-bye Y/N.” 

“See ya, Parker,” MJ responded before getting into the passenger side of the car, kicking her feet up on the dashboard. 

“Hey! Feet off the dashboard dude,” Y/N yelled at her cousin. MJ mocked her expression before chuckling lightly- keeping her feet on the dashboard. “Goodbye, Peter,” she said coldly, turning back to Peter before getting into the driver’s side, pulling away from the curb before speeding off down the road.

“I miss you.” 

The brown-eyed boy whispered to no one, but it was meant for Y/N. He truly did miss her. Even if they had met only one week ago, that same surge of energy raced through him. Peter knew this wasn’t an ordinary crush- he didn’t know what it was. But he knew he couldn’t afford to lose it. He felt like he was falling apart without her. He didn’t intend to be that rude to her that night at the drive-in, it just happening and he regretted it the second he did it once he saw that heartbroken-hearted look on her face. But instead of apologizing to her, he just sat there.

“Sup penis Parker!” a kid named flash yelled and he sped by him, causing Peter’s brown curly hair to fall into his face. Great. 

“Hey kid, I ain’t got all day. Ya getting on or not?” the bus driver said to Peter. He slumped his shoulders and lugged himself into the bus, taking his seat next to his best friend. “It’s gonna be ok man,” Ned told Peter, trying to comfort him. 

I hope so.

///

Peter was late-night patrolling as he usually did and spotted MJ’s place. Not being able to restrain himself he swung over to the building next to it. He noticed that that same room light was on that was on the first time he stopped by MJ’s on a night patrol as Spider-Man. 

Looking through the window to the lit room, he saw Y/N. she was sitting on her bed, her legs crisscrossed as she wrote something down in a thick, brown, leather-backed journal. 

He smiled at the sight before him. Y/N was wearing the glasses. She pushed them up on her face with her knuckle and continued them to write. Someone must have called her name because she got up from her position on the bed and left her room. 

Curiosity took over Peter as he swung over the ledge of the fire escape that was right at Y/N’s window. He peered into it and used his mask to focus closely on the open journal sitting on the bed. It was a letter:

Dear dad, 

I can’t do this anymore. I miss you so much. You were what made me smile every day, and you still do. But I thought I had found someone who could make me smile even more. He’s beautiful dad. He has amazingly curly brown hair and the brightest brown eyes I had ever seen. His smile made me smile just like how your smile made me smile. He was the one that convinced me to wear my glasses… your glasses. Not MJ. not mom. He did. I thought he liked me as much as I liked him, but I was wrong. And now I can’t stop thinking about what you told me: some people fall in love with the wrong people sometimes. I think he was the one dad, the wrong one. The one I wasn’t supposed to be with. But why does it hurt so much? I’ve been preparing for this to happen to me ever since you told about false love. But now that it actually happened, I cant take it. I cant let him go. But I-

The letter stopped. And anyone could tell that Y/N had been crying as she wrote it- there were tear strains covering the page. 

Peter felt lightheaded. Tears flooded his chocolate eyes and he unfocused his mask from the page. He slumped down, his back not facing the window. He was hurt. It felt like everything in the world had stopped, as time had frozen. He couldn’t bear to know the fact that he hurt Y/N so much to the point she thinks it’s her fault. 

He yanked the mask off of his face, his cheeks burning a shade of crimson just like his eyes. Peter ran a shaky hand through his hair, gripping it as he grounded out in frustration. 

Letting go he slammed his fist against the brick behind him, yelling out in pain. But not physical pain. He felt like someone just ripped out his heart and stomped on it. 

“Hello?” Peter jumped at the voice coming from inside of Y/N’s room. Nows your change Peter. Just go tell her the truth. That’s what one side of Peter said, the other side was the opposite. You cant tell her now, she’ll just hate you more. You have to wait for the right moment. 

But when was the right moment?

“MJ, did you hear that or am I fucking crazy?” Y/N asked as she exited the room. Peter took this chance to get away without being seen. He made his way but to his shared apartment with Aunt May. Entering his room and sitting on his bed, tears ran down his face as he silently sobbed.

///

“Students, I need your attention,” everyone quieted down their own conversations to hear what was about to be said. “I would like to introduce you to our new student, Y/N,” Peter’s head snapped but to look to the front of the class. His eyes landed on Y/N. he couldn’t help but admire her outfit. She was wearing high-waisted but loose, flared jeans with a grey Slytherin sweatshirt and black converse- ones like MJs. her fingers were covered in rings and she has a small necklace. There was a bag draped over her shoulder and her hair was pulled up into a messy ponytail. She was holding her glasses in her hand, not daring to put them on.

Not in front of all these people. More importantly, in front of Peter. 

Her head hung and she stared at her feet, twisting the ring on her thumb. The teacher told that she could take a seat at an empty chair, and just to her luck, Ned wasn’t at school that day. So she was forced to sit next to Peter. She didn’t want to argue so she took her seat and sat there quietly not daring to even glance at the boy next to her. 

Half an hour went by and Peter noticed Y/N fidgeting next to him. Her hands were shaking, her ears were turning bright red and she shook the table from how much she was bouncing it. She was taking notes but the handwriting was illegible she was consistently squinting at the board, trying to read what was being written. 

“Hey Y/N, are you ok?”

“Fine,” she let out shakily, avoiding eye contact with Peter. He grabbed her hand, causing her to look him in the eye. Y/N’s eyes were red, tears swelling in the corners. 

“We’re going to the bathroom. Now.” 

“No Peter I’m f-fine.”

Peter grabbed Y/N’s arm, pulling out of the chair and into his arms, picking up their belonging with his free arm. They snuck out the back door to the classroom he and Ned used to sneak out of. 

Walking through the halls, Y/N’s breath became shallow. “Peter, peter I wanna go home. Please take me home. There are too many people in there. They were all looking at me a-and I didn’t want them to look at me. MJ. Peter where is MJ. I need-” 

“Ssshhh, relax Y/N. I’m gonna take you home,” Peter said, rubbing her back. She nodded her head at him as they walked through the back doors of the school. 

SORRY THAT THIS PART WAS SHORT BUT THE NEXT ONE WILL BE LONG AND I HAVE SOME REALLY GOOD SURPRISE COMING IN THE NEXT PARTS. I LOVE YOU GUYSSSSS

-J.T.S xxx

@love-granger

@moonlightbaby10

@oakiedokie

@hallecarey1

@tomhollandreader

[tanadrin]

Honest question: how do you expect anyone to build a life that will be just fine irrespective of politics?Everything in my life which I’ve used to try and deal with shit has been destroyed by this pandemic, and the country is about to reelect the demagogue whose policy has been making that worse. This isn’t catastrophizing - the situation is a catastrophe. Is the solution just “move to a different country lol?” Because I imagine you know that’s actually rather hard.

if you’re American, and by “reelect the demagogue whose policy has been making that worse” you mean Trump

(if you’re not, and are referring to some other demagogue-led country, ignore this bit)

then I have to point out that 538 is giving Trump about a 12% chance right now, and he’s behind in both national and swing-state polls, and while 12% is not nothing, it is also only a 12% chance. multiply all pessimism contingent on a Trump victory by 12%, and all potential optimism contingent on a Biden victory by 88%. Remember that even a 2016-sized polling error does not give Trump a greater than 50% probability of winning; a Trump victory would require a Dewey-beats-Truman sized polling error, and while that’s happened before (when Truman beat Dewey, natch), it’s happened once before in the era of modern Presidential election polling. The odds right now of Democrats winning the Presidency, holding the House, and having a slim majority in the Senate are at about 70% (again, per recent 538 reporting), so catastrophism about the outcome of the American election is... well, catastrophism! Because the situation the US is facing is not actually catastrophe.

I know dirtbag left doomerism is popular on Twitter these days, but it’s, pardon my uncharitability, fucking stupid and just as divorced from reality as Fox News-poisoned right-wing conspiracism. On balance the likely outcome of this election is Democratic control of the legislative and executive branches, and--though this would be contingent on a strong Dem majority in the Senate, and popular appetite for it--there’s a nonzero chance of Dems packing SCOTUS and having control of all three branches of government. Small chance, to be sure, but far, far larger than it’s ever been in my lifetime.

(and if you think ACB being confirmed means a 99% chance that SCOTUS will steal the election... that is also stupid. the supreme court is only relevant in a handful of very specific circumstances where the election is nearly a tie, and those are not very likely circumstances! it would be very bad if we got Bush v Gore 2.0, yes; and being concerned about SCOTUS picks to avoid that kind of thing is reasonable; but letting fear of that scenario dominate your predictions for how the election will turn out would be extremely fucking stupid. I would put more money on the Dems packing the court in 2021 than I would on the court deciding the 2020 election. Not a lot, you understand; but I’d much sooner bet 50 euro on the former than the latter.)

(again, if you’re not American, ignore all the above; but AFAIK other likely demagogue led-countries you might be from, like Brazil, Poland, Hungary, Russia, the Philippines, and the UK, do not have upcoming elections.)

You build a life with meaning outside of politics the same way you build a life with meaning in general. Dan Savage (yeah yeah I know) talks about this w/r/t people who are lonely and have no short-term, or even long-term, prospects of a romantic relationship. You read, you have hobbies, you make friends, you refuse to let bitterness and rage consume you--and in this day and age, you get off social media, if that’s where your bitterness and rage is coming from--and you develop yourself as a well-rounded person so that if you do stumble into a scenario where a romantic relationship seems possible, you are an interesting and fun person to be in a relationship with, because you have a full and complete life outside that relationship.

So too with any other sphere of life. If thoughts of politics and anger against politicians is consuming your life, fucking stop consuming news about politics. It’s not doing you any good. By all means, vote in elections, even volunteer for political organizations, but also read, cultivate hobbies, make friends, get out of the house, get in shape, learn to bake--find out who you are in all areas of life besides the one making you miserable, in short. Yeah, coronavirus makes all this harder. It doesn’t make any of it impossible. I know it’s driving us all a little crazy--me included, and I’m a married Extremely Online homebody--but it won’t last forever. And you get to choose what to do with yourself in the meantime. You get to choose how consumed with resentment and frustration at the world you’re gonna be. You get to choose every day whether you’re going to let the fear that nothing is possible for you govern your behavior, or whether you’re going to try to accomplish something (however difficult, however small) despite the circumstances around you.

If you write 300 words a day--a short newspaper column--then in six or seven months you’ll have a novel. If you do 20 minutes of exercise a day, in six months you could be in the best shape of your life. If you spend an hour a day playing with Python, in six months you could be a fairly competent programmer. And so on and so forth. Mutatis mutandis, as far as the things you’re actually interested in, but the underlying point holds: just because the world feels like it’s going to hell in a handbasket doesn’t mean you can’t build up your life in other areas. The ‘rona doesn’t stop you from having an online or socially-distanced book club, or from hanging out with friends outdoors, or from getting drunk on raid night with your WoW guild (A++ can recommend, btw).

And if you really can’t, if the anxiety or the anger or the worry or the sheer overwhelming weight of it all means you can’t even manage modest effort in the things you care about, you should assign a much greater likelihood to the possibility that your brain is broken, that your thoughts are lying to you (they do that sometimes!) and that your life might be greatly improved by some combination of anti-anxiety medication/antidepressants and talk therapy. Because God is dead, depressive realism is horseshit, and we have to make our own meaning in the world; and the human brain is, in fact, usually very good at that when it’s firing on all cylinders.

[yamigooops]

Break My Heart

pairing: oikawa x gn!y/n genre: pure angst warnings: just angst really, I just wanted to write something sad lol words: ~2k

“Tell me you've never loved me Tell me that it wasn't real Just say you've found somebody else I wanna know the way it feels (Break my heart)” - Break My Heart by Hey Violet

a/n - time to break all your hearts, this had me tearing up while writing so hopefully it does the same to you so I'm not the only one hurting >:')

You were done, you’d had more than enough. You lay in bed, alone, for the fourth night in a row, waiting for your boyfriend of two and a half years to come home, and you were sick of it. Reaching over to turn on the light beside the bed, you picked up your phone to check the time. Almost 2 am. He should have been home an hour ago at the very latest.

With a huff, you threw the sheets off your body, sitting up. You rested your forehead in your hands, elbows braced against your knees. What else could you do? You’d told him so many times you’d lost track that he needed to try harder, that you needed more from him if this relationship was going to work. But he always brushed you off, assuring you that things would get better.

But they weren’t.

You sent a text to your best friend, knowing they’d be up at this time anyway, and asked if you could come to spend the night. You wanted him to know how it felt to go to fall asleep in an empty bed, just like you had done so often lately. Receiving an affirmative text from your friend, you rose and started to pack a bag for tomorrow.

Your mind raced. Did he even want to be in this relationship anymore? Did you? He had been putting in the minimum effort as of late, spending the vast majority of his time at training or going out with his friends and teammates. It seemed he had more time for everyone other than you, and you weren’t sure you could take it anymore. You almost wanted him to end it, almost wanted to get in a fight about it just to have him show anything other than nonchalance about the situation.

You had been so lost in your thoughts you hadn’t heard him come in, unaware of his presence until he opened the bedroom door. “Y/N? What are you doing up so late?” The smooth silk of his voice shocked you in the silence of the room, making you whirl around to face him.

There he was, Oikawa, in all his glory. His tanned skin bore a sheen of sweat, and his chocolate hair was mussed, from the wind or something else you had no clue. He looked worn out, though that could have been from practice or going out to the club. You wouldn’t know, since this was the first you’d seen of him since he left this morning to go to practice.

You clutched the sweatshirt you were holding to your chest, subconsciously shrinking back from the tall man. You weren’t expecting him to come home until after you had left, now it would be all that much harder to leave. “Um, hi Oikawa,” you muttered, taking a deep breath. “I’m going over to Y/F/N’s place for the night.” You were surprised you got the words out, almost caving at the thought of getting to spend even a little time with your boyfriend, even if it was at two in the morning.

“Why would you do that?” He cocked his head, looking genuinely confused. A small pout formed on his features, and you could tell he was genuinely a bit upset about it.

“Well, I-“ you broke off, not knowing what to say. “We were talking, and they invited me over, and since you weren’t back yet I thought I would go,” you lied. You weren’t sure why you did though, the angry part of you said you should have just told him flat out that you were upset with him. But the peacemaker in you won out, unwilling to cause a fight where it wasn’t necessary.

“But it’s a weeknight, why wouldn’t you just wait until the weekend? Don’t you have work in the morning?” He set his gym bag down on the bed, unzipping it to remove his dirty clothes from practice.

You gulped, mind flying as you came up with a cover. “They, uh, they’re having a bit of a breakdown right now, I was going to go over help them calm down.” You resumed packing your bag, placing each article of clothing inside carefully as you felt his eyes on your back.

“C’mon,” he whined. “I feel like I’ve barely seen you all week, can’t you just stay? We can cuddle. Usually, you’re asleep by the time I get home, so I’ve been missing out.” The pout was back in full force as he came up behind you to snake his arms around your midriff. He placed a kiss on the back of your head before resting a cheek on your hair.

“Yeah, we’ve barely seen each other all week,” you reiterated, something igniting in your chest. “And whose fault would that be?” The words came out before you could stop them, sharp as knives.

He stiffened against you, arms loosening. “Y/N, I have practice every day but Sundays, you know that,” he replied, a bit defensively.

You pulled out of his grasp, picking up your bag and placing it on the bed. “Yeah, and what about when your practice is over? Hmm? Where do you go then? From 6 to 2 in the morning?” You couldn’t stop the anger from bubbling over, your chest burning with it. Now that you’ve started, you couldn’t stop yourself. “Are you just hanging out with your friends instead of your girlfriend? Are you going out to the clubs?” Your tone was pure venom as angry tears welled in your eyes. Dropping your voice to a whisper, you hissed out the last thought in your mind. “Are you seeing someone else?”

He gaped at you, lips parted and eyes wide as he comprehended what you had said. “Am I- what?!” His voice raised at the end in indignation. “You think I’m cheating on you? You think that’s the kind of man I am?”

“What else am I supposed to think when I’ve gone to bed alone for the last four nights in a row?” You cried, tears blurring your vision. “Torū, I’ve barely seen you at all this week, tell me you wouldn’t be suspicious too!”

He froze, eyebrows coming together slowly. “No, I don’t think I would be,” he defended. “I have quite a bit of faith in you, and it hurts me to know that you have so little in me.” His voice cracked slightly on the last word. You brought your hands up to press the heels into your eyes, hoping to do something to relieve the pressure building behind them.

“My point isn’t to call you a cheater, Torū, all I meant by that was that I have no idea what you’re out doing because you don’t talk to me!” Your voice grew thick with emotion, face growing flush as you raised your arms up to clasp your forearms above your head, eyes still screwed shut.

“Y/N, I’ve just been spending time with the team, that’s all,” he replied exasperatedly, and you heard the soft thump of his clothes falling into the hamper. “I’m sorry if I haven’t been spending enough time with you, but there are other important people in my life besides you!”

His words left you silent, and you opened your eyes to look at the ceiling, head tilting back slightly. The lump in your throat grew, making it unbearable to swallow back the tears that slipped from the corners of your eyes.

“If they’re all so important,” you whispered, “then maybe you don’t need me anymore.” You released your arms, letting them fall to your sides as you came to meet his gaze. The sight almost shattered your heart.

He looked at you like a lost child, mouth agape and hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. Were those tears in his eyes? You couldn’t tell from the distance between you. He reached up to run a hand through his hair, letting it rest on the back of his neck. “So… what are you saying Y/N? Hmm? Because I’m not sure at this point,” he breathed, eyes meeting yours and filled with emotion.

You took a moment to get your thoughts in order before responding. “I guess what I’m saying is-” you hesitated, unsure if you should continue. Could you continue with this relationship? Were you happy with him anymore? “I want you to break my heart. It’s already on its last leg and I just need you to cut the last strings because I don’t think I can do it by myself.”

There was a look of pure agony in his eyes. His hands went limp at his sides, and his shoulders fell. “Y/N I-” His voice cracked with emotion. “I don’t think I can do that." He took a step toward you, then another, until he stood just a few inches away, looking like he wanted to wrap his arms around you but refraining. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

All you wanted was rest your head against his chest, cry into the soft fabric of his shirt and act like you were still in love with him. But you couldn’t, not anymore. “I was scared that if I talked to you about it, then that would make it real,” you whispered into the space between, eyes stuck on the collar of his shirt and unable to meet his.

There was a pause, silence overcoming the two of you and thickening the air around you. You could practically hear his brain working to come up with a response that wouldn’t kill you, and you almost broke and fell against him. But you didn’t, couldn’t.

“I don’t think I could ever bring myself to break your heart,” he murmured, words smooth and soft. “But if you need me to cut whatever ties you have left, I’ll do it, even though it kills me. Whatever you need, I’ll do, even if it means I have to lose you.”

It was then that you gathered the courage to meet his eyes, and the moment you did you regretted it. Tears slid down his angled face, shining in the soft light of the lamp. Your heart crumpled, nearly unable to handle the fact that you were doing this to him.

You allowed yourself to reach up and rest your hands on his cheeks. “I’m so sorry,” your thumbs ran beneath his eyes in a useless attempt to wipe away his sadness. “I never want to hurt you, but this just isn’t working anymore, and my heart can’t take it. I’m sorry.”

He leaned down to rest his forehead against yours, eyes shut, and lower lip drawn between his teeth. His hands came to rest lightly on your hips, fingers wrapping into the material of your shirt. “I know, I know,” he assured you softly. “Things haven’t been the best between us lately, I know that now, but still-” Your hands snaked around his neck, effectively pulling him closer. His lips came to press against your forehead, and the feeling almost made you melt into him. “I’ll always love you Y/N, but if you need me to cut ties, I’ll cut them.”

The feeling of his breath against your skin brought on a fresh wave of tears as you nodded. “Thank you, Torū,” you murmured, fingers running through the short hair at the nape of his neck. “Thank you for everything, I mean it.”

He sighed, pulling you against his chest as his arms encircled you fully. “I know, Y/N, you’re welcome.”

consider buying me a coffee for exclusive writing

[skiesofthesketchy]

Midsummers

Pairing: JJ Maybank x kook!reader

Summary: You drag a poor, unsuspecting stranger to be apart of your little scheme, but JJ doesn’t mind all that much. 

Note: Yoooooo how are you guys? This fic is dedicated to my bff @rafej-cambanks​ bc it is her birthday today!! Go send her some love! I figured this might be a nice lil surprise bc it is 1 of the maybe 2 unpublished fics that you haven’t read yet lol. Anyway, I love you SO MUCH and hope you like this :)

Still working on blurbs for my 1k celebration! Sit tight, they will be coming soon :)

Warnings: language, hella fluff, uhhhh yea Word Count: 4k

gif by @toesure​

***

Standing in front of the full-length mirror and gazing at your reflection, you couldn’t keep a straight face. The pretty emerald fabric of your dress adorned your figure perfectly, considering the thousands of dollars your mother spent on it plus having it tailored to fit you so. The hem fell to your ankles, showing off your expensive six inch heels and perfectly painted toenails. Your jewelry consisted of a simple diamond necklace and matching earrings, the sparkle adding to your already glowing complexion. You assumed your makeup would look cakey, but it actually looked quite flawless. That’s what you get when your mother hires a professional to do your makeup and hair for the most prestigious Kook party of the year.

Midsummers. Tonight was the night every Kook family planned for months beforehand, and then talked about the months following after. The party where rich socialites gather to brag about their wealth and successes over lobster and expensive champagne, playing fake nice to uphold their own powerful and pleasant reputations. You hated Midsummers with every fiber of your being, but alas, it was the one event you couldn’t get out of, and you had to attend. 

You bubbled with laughter as you gazed at your appearance, hardly looking like yourself at all. A silly flower crown in your hair and an elegant dress that could probably pay for a trip to Europe. “So this is the daughter my parents have always wanted,” you sighed, coming out of your laughing fit. 

Your parents never really understood you. All they ever wanted was for you to be their perfect princess, hanging out with other Kooks, going shopping, finding a suitable boyfriend from a wealthy family, you know, the whole shabang. And of course, keeping your grades up at the academy so that you can one day work for your father’s multi-million dollar company. It was what all Kooks expect from their kids, but you weren’t about that lifestyle.

Sure, you were grateful for your comfy upbringing, but you couldn’t care less about any of that stuff. You just wanted to have fun, travel the world, figure out who you are. You’d jump off a cliff before you had to be tied down to this boring, money-obsessed world that your parents live in. 

With a quick wink to your alter-ego in the mirror, you sauntered out of the large bathroom, your heels clacking on the white marble floors. You made your way to the extravagant lobby area of the Island Club, staying close to the wall in order to not be noticed. Your parents were thankfully already at the party outside, but there was still someone you were trying to avoid: the pathetic boy your parents had set you up with. 

He really wasn’t that bad, just boring like every other Kook boy your age. Only caring about parties, drugs, and tormenting the Pogues on the island. According to your parents though, he was a “suitable young man” because his parents were wealthy and respected on Figure Eight. 

You spotted your date, Topper Thornton, leisurely scrolling on his phone, his other hand in his pocket. He was waiting for you so that you two could walk down the glorious staircase into the party together. It was tradition for ladies to be escorted down the steps, which is exactly why your mother took finding an escort for you into her own hands. The stupid tradition made you gag. You didn’t need a pretty boy to escort you into a lame-ass party, and that’s why you were hiding from him.

With Topper’s gaze fixed on his phone, you took this opportunity to slip through the large room and onto the balcony, the party happening just down the stairs. With a sigh, you started your descent down the staircase, taking in the scene in front of you. There were pretty lights hung up around the huge tent covering the dining area. People were dressed to the nines, champagne flutes in hand as they giggled and chatted to one another. The live band played classy music while some couples danced, and staff members ran around serving drinks to the attendees. 

Casually walking down the last few steps, that’s when you noticed your parents watching you, and you grinned brightly at them. You knew ditching your date for the grand entrance would piss them off, which is mostly why you did it, and it was confirmed by the sour expressions on their faces.

“Mom. Dad. You guys look great!” you smiled. Your mother only scowled in response. 

“Y/N! What on earth are you doing? Where’s the Thornton boy?” She spoke through her perfect teeth clenched in a fake smile, trying not to draw attention from others. 

You shrugged. “I dunno. Great party though,” you said nonchalantly as your eyes wandered, obviously not bothered by the disappointing looks your parents were giving you. 

“You know your mother wanted you to walk in on a man’s arm,” your dad said. He was trying to console your mom by rubbing her back soothingly. She was not taking this well, her chest rising and falling rapidly in anger. She wanted to yell at you, but wouldn’t dare to make a scene with all of these people around. 

You rolled your eyes. “Why do I have to be escorted by some boy? That tradition is dumb, and sexist, quite frankly.” 

“Y/N, you’re embarrassing us!” your mom whisper-yelled. Her eyes were wide and her lips twisted in displeasure. She’s more pissed than you thought she’d be, and you smiled. “You couldn’t have done this one thing for us? Why can’t you go one night without embarrassing your family?”

“You’re being dramatic,” you sighed. You loved pushing their buttons. They have to figure out you don’t want to live in this Kook bubble for the rest of your life sooner or later. It sucks that they aren’t accepting of who you are and only want you to be their little Kook Princess, but that has never kept you down for long. 

“Don’t talk to your mother that way,” your dad warned in a low voice. You scoffed.

“Tell me why you ditched your date,” your mom whispered, the anger still apparent even with how quietly she spoke. 

“I ditched him because I already have a boyfriend, Mom.” You didn’t really have a boyfriend, but the lie rolled off your tongue easily. Lying to your parents was something you did quite often, and not just to get away with the stupid shit you do sometimes. It was fun to mess with them. They get so upset over silly things, especially your mom. 

A smirk found its way to your mother's face, and you knew she didn’t buy it. “Oh yeah? Then where is he?” You weren’t going to give her the satisfaction of catching you in your lie, especially if it meant she’d make you walk back up those damn steps just to retrieve Topper and do the whole entrance all over again. 

You were already disinterested in this conversation, but you couldn’t just walk away now. Your eyes wandered the party briefly, and that’s when you spotted a waiter heading in your direction. He didn’t seem too busy at the moment, no drinks or plates of food in hand, so the gears in your head started turning. Before you could even second guess your plan, you were stopping the boy’s strides by grabbing his hand and dragging him to the spot next to you in front of your parents.

“Right here,” you said. “Mom. Dad. Meet my boyfriend.” An innocent smile graced your lips as you stared at your parents, awaiting their reactions. You were happy to see surprise and displeasure taking over their features, and the blonde boy next to you looked just the same. You ignored him though and the way he turned to you with confusion dancing in his eyes. You didn’t even care if the stranger went along with it. Even if he walked off and this all blew up in your face, the shock on your mom’s face right now has already made it worth it. You found it all fucking hilarious.

Registering the silence and how nobody seemed to know what to do, you turned your smiling face towards the boy, squeezing his hand in yours and trying not to laugh at this whole situation. You finally noticed his beautiful blue eyes and the way they seemed to ask you what the hell is going on. You shot him a wink, and after quickly scanning your face, something in him seemed to change.

“Mr. and Mrs. Y/L/N. It’s so great to finally meet you.” The boy had turned his attention back to your parents, and reached to shake your father’s hand. You couldn’t help the happiness that swelled up inside of you. He’s actually going along with your idiotic plan to piss your parents off even more.

Your other hand came up to rest on the boy’s bicep as you watched him shake your dad’s hand. Your dad couldn’t form words as he looked at the waiter you clung to. Your mom had plastered on one of her brilliant fake smiles after a few seconds, and nodded her head in acknowledgement. 

This was almost too good to be true. You didn’t know the boy standing next to you, but considering he was part of the staff, he had to be a Pogue. Your parents never allowed you to hang out with Pogues before, so you could only imagine their fury after learning you were dating one. You only caught a quick glance at the blonde, but you noticed the bruises on his face and the cut on his lip. You didn’t know his story, but you knew your parents only saw him as a trouble-making Pogue, and his beat up face only made it better. Not to mention you were in the middle of the biggest party of the year. Your parents wouldn’t dare do anything to make a scene, not here. Sure, you’d be getting an earful at home later, but you were already basking in the pleasure of seeing them so utterly angry and not being able to show it.

“And what’s your name, young man?” your dad asked. 

“JJ Maybank, sir.” You turned your gaze to the boy again, and he smiled charmingly at your parents. “I’ve heard lots about you both, from your lovely daughter here.” He suddenly turned to face you again, the same cute smile on his lips, and released your hand to instead wrap his arm around your waist. Fuck, he’s doing a great job at playing along even though you dragged him into this mess that he had no business being in. You were loving every second of this. 

The way your mom was struggling to keep her calm composure had laughter bubbling in your chest, but you kept your lips shut tight to hold it in. “JJ,” she said through clenched teeth. “Are you working the party?” As polite as she was trying to be, her distasteful glance at his work attire didn’t go unnoticed by anyone. 

JJ wasn’t disheartened by her question, and only smiled bigger. “Yes ma’am, I work at the Island Club for such events. I also deliver groceries and mow lawns. But don’t worry. I still make plenty of time to take Y/N out on dates and treat her like the princess she is.” You found his gaze once again, and you swear you could kiss him. He’s really milking this whole encounter with your parents and you promised yourself to thank him later. 

“Oh, that’s nice,” your dad responded for your mother. She was practically seething underneath that perfect mask of hers, but your father looked quite uncomfortable as well. And here you thought Midsummers would be boring. 

You listened in on the awkward conversation a few minutes more before you spoke up. “I’m glad you guys finally met, but we’re gonna go now. Enjoy the party!” You grinned one last time at your parents before grabbing JJ’s hand and dragging him away, leaving them to simmer in their shock and anger without you.

You had made it all the way to the other side of the dance floor before you burst out laughing. Giggles poured out of you loudly, and JJ couldn’t help but join in. You didn’t even care how awkward that whole situation was, you found it absolutely hilarious and you were happy to see that JJ seemed to think so too. “Thanks for playing along with that, man,” you smiled. “I totally owe you.”

JJ Maybank was confused to say the least. He caught on to your little plan and used his superb improv skills to play along, but he didn’t really know why. He’d never met you before, and couldn’t possibly figure out why you would claim him as your boyfriend. And though you two had never met, he knew exactly who you were. Everyone did. You were Y/N Y/L/N. Your parents were among the richest Kooks on the whole island, and you were their perfect Kook Princess. Why on earth would you ever tell them that he was your boyfriend? He was a low-life Pogue. None of it made any sense. 

He wanted to ask you for an explanation, but he was too caught up in the moment with you. He had never seen you up close before, and had to admit he found you intriguingly beautiful. Your eyes gleaming as your whole face lit up, your dress showing off your nice figure and complimenting you perfectly, even the giggles escaping your lips screamed beauty. He had his mind made up about you, thinking you’re no different than every other rich girl on the island, but now he’s not so sure. From the moment you abruptly grabbed his hand, he could tell you didn’t give a fuck about anything. You seemed fun.

“Do you always try to freak your parents out like that?” he asked with a laugh. 

You chuckled too with a nod. “Yeah. They’re too comfy in their dumb Kook lifestyle, so I like to scare them every once in a while.” You looked up at him with your pretty smile, and he could only smile back. Your words suddenly made him like being in your presence a whole lot more. 

He watched as you messed with your flower crown, the flowers getting caught in your hair as you unceremoniously pulled it off of your head. “Stupid fucking flower crown...” you mumbled before tossing it off to the side on the ground. JJ laughed at your messed up hair, but reached his hands up to fix it for you. You couldn’t care less about what you looked like, which he found odd about you, but you enjoyed the feeling of his fingers running through your hair, patting down the wild strands. 

You took this opportunity to really look at him. His blonde hair was messy and the locks fell over his forehead. The bruises marking his face did little to hide how attractive he was, the cut on his lip seemed to make him even more attractive to you. Even his work uniform was tattered and wrinkled, but he still managed to look good in it. He finished messing with your hair and tucked a strand behind your ear, eyes meeting yours, and neither of you could hide your curious smiles. “Thanks,” you hummed. He only nodded in response.

Your eyes wandered as you tried to figure out what to say, but you caught sight of Topper bounding down the staircase, his gaze searching through the party, probably for you. “Shit,” you muttered under your breath, grabbing JJ’s shoulders and positioning him in front of you. You stepped closer to him as you peaked your head over his shoulder to keep your eyes on the Kook you ditched.

“Hiding from someone?” JJ asked, looking down at you with amusement. 

You nodded. “Just the guy my parents tried to set me up with. I may or may not have ditched him,” you laughed sheepishly. Maybe you should’ve felt bad, but you didn’t.

JJ spared a glance over his shoulder. “Which one of these unlucky bastards was it?” 

You giggled, still trying to hide your frame completely behind JJ. “Topper Thornton. Frosted Tips. Looks like a lost puppy.”

JJ laughed and you could practically feel the warm vibrations from his chest. His pretty eyes met yours again, and he surprised you by wrapping his arm around your waist while his other hand found yours, bringing the pair of you into a waltz position. A smile tugged on your lips as you placed your other hand on his broad shoulder, and you both began to sway. 

JJ never pictured himself in this position before. Slow dancing with you, the Kook Princess of all people, at the Kookiest party of the year no less. He felt a strange sense of pride knowing that you had ditched Topper and are instead dancing with him. Being this close to you, he found himself trying to memorize your features, the color of your eyes, the softness of your hand in his, and the enticing curve of your waist which he had the pleasure of holding onto. 

“So,” JJ spoke softly. “What do you normally do when you’re not attending fancy parties and pissing off your parents?” He didn’t know why, but he wanted to find out more about you. You’re already quite different than what he made you out to be.

“Getting into more trouble,” you responded with a wink. 

He chuckled. “Oh yeah? Like what?”

You shrugged. “Last month, I ran off to Cuba for a week without telling anyone.” You didn’t think it was a big deal, but you noticed the waves of surprise in JJ’s eyes. You giggled at his expression. “What about you? When you’re not serving drinks, delivering groceries, or mowing lawns,” you paused to admire the bruises on his face. “What do you do?”

“Get into trouble,” he laughed, shooting your words back at you. 

You played along. “Oh yeah? Like what?” You don’t know when it happened, but you realized now that you guys were closer than before. Your chest was pressed into his, and his face was so close you could kiss him with the slightest lift onto your toes. 

“Picking fights with your Kooky friends, usually,” he chuckled. 

“If you’re referring to Topper and his goons, we’re not friends.” JJ’s lips lifted into a small smile at your words. If he wasn’t mistaken, you were about as fond of those assholes as he was. 

You both were just staring at each other, choosing to put the small talk to rest and just enjoy the moment. JJ’s eyes never left yours as you brought both of your arms around his neck, leaving him to wrap his arms around your back, diminishing any space there was between your bodies. You thought he might’ve kissed you with the way his gaze flickered between your eyes and your lips, but he didn’t. Instead, his hands found yours and he spun you around so that your back was against him, your arms crossed over your body as you continued to sway. 

His lips hovered over your neck briefly, and you released a sigh, trying to remember the last time you felt so close to someone, so content and in the moment. Something about the boy holding you in his arms gave you butterflies, that warm and exciting feeling spreading through your veins. He suddenly released one of your hands and pushed you so that you were spinning away from him, but then caught you and pulled you back.

You giggled as he twirled you around the dance floor, pleasantly surprised at how good of a dancer he was. Staying hidden from Topper wasn’t even on your mind anymore. With his grip on both of your hands, you both spun around, making the other dancing patrons have to move out of the way. Your laugh bubbled louder, and you couldn’t care less about the other guests. JJ found himself laughing along with you, even though part of him still wondered why he was here, dancing and having fun with you. 

After a moment, he pulled you back against him and you both fought to catch your breaths while the laughter died down. He admired your features again, and the question he’s been dying to ask finally escaped passed his lips. “How come you’re not embarrassed to be seen with me?” He didn’t mean it to sound so insecure, he was rather genuinely curious.

Your brows furrowed slightly in confusion, your grin turning into a frown. “Why would I be embarrassed?”

He scoffed lightly. “Come on, Y/N. We’re from two different worlds.” His eyes wandered for a second, noticing the amount of eyes on the two of you, probably floored at the scene you guys had just made. “Everyone is watching. The Kook Princess dancing with a Pogue...” He didn’t mean to bring down the mood, but he couldn’t help it. He was used to being dismissed, used to being viewed as a disgusting Pogue that only got into trouble. 

You brought your hands up to brush his hair away from his face, your bright smile returning. Your hands then cupped his cheeks, your thumb gently brushing over his split lip. “I don’t give a fuck about these people.” JJ chuckled, feeling his spirits lift once again. Your fingers dragged down his neck and landed on his collar, which you straightened for him. 

“You know,” you started, eyes fixed on the buttons of his white shirt. “I expected tonight to be the absolute worst, but I’m actually having an amazing time.” You peered up at him through your lashes, and JJ smiled. 

“Oh yeah?” he smirked, his usual flirty persona returning. “And why is that?”

You giggled, deciding to humor him. “I don’t know. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that my handsome fake boyfriend has some damn good dance moves,” you winked. Your chest became warm at the sound of JJ’s deep chuckle, his breath fanning over your face.

Among the many judgy looks the pair of you were getting, your parents were also watching from a nearby table. JJ noticed their burning glares, and an idea popped into his head. Gazing into your pretty eyes, he smirked with a nod of his head to the side. When you glanced over and was greeted with the sight of your very angry parents, a grin creeped onto your face. You were making quite the spectacle, but really, who cares? “Want to give them something to be really pissed about?” JJ asked.

You looked at him curiously, but nodded nonetheless. You were already thrilled with how the night was going, and wondered what else he could possibly have up his sleeve. He leaned forward and suddenly, his lips were on yours. Your surprise was soon washed away and you allowed yourself to melt into the kiss, arching your back to press your chest into him. 

His hand rested on the back of your neck, pulling you in even closer as you both indulged in one another. His other large hand squeezed your hip, and you squealed softly against his lips. After a few more seconds, you pulled away from each other, gleaming smiles on your faces. Yeah, that sure made your parents fucking livid. Your mother had excused herself from the table they were sitting at, and your father followed after her, but you weren’t paying attention to them. 

JJ had rested his palms on your cheeks, just looking at you, and he knew then that he wouldn’t be able to get you off of his mind no matter how hard he tried. Your hands gripped his wrists, and you felt sad for a moment, thinking about how JJ probably needs to get back to work. He needs to get back to his life, and you need to get back to yours. “I’ll see you around, JJ?” You held your breath, hoping that this wouldn’t be the last time you saw him.

He kissed you once more, short and sweet, before pulling away again with a smirk. “Definitely.” And with that, he made his way back through the party and into the building while you watched, not being able to hide your giddy grin.

***

Pls let me know what you think :) love you all

Masterlist

***

Obx tags: @sportygal55​ @jazbarnes05 @lovelogan @lannxyz @caseyabel28 @falling-perfectly @thisismynerdyself @mattelblake @justanotherbooklover @hemmingsness @queenofthepouges @dontjinx-it @pink-meringues @outerbnx-stiles @little-miss-rebel3  @shreckluver7​

JJ tags:  @kaylinfayezink​ @unfortunatekiwitrash​ @shy-1234​ @bijleegiregi​ @cheshirecat107​ @yami5525​  @folkloverr​ @dracoswhore007​

[es-kay-zee]

Vice | Bang Chan x Reader

pairing: chan x gn!reader

genre: angst

warnings: this fic contains lots of mentions of drinking and alcoholism, so if that’s not for you, then don’t read this, and there’s mentions of sex but there’s no smut, mentions of sex while drunk (reader and idol under the influence)

requested: nope, i got sad so i wrote angst lol

word count: 1.7k

proofread: a little bit

taglist: @bxngchxn @jisungsplatforms @hyunsluvv @qtieskz

a/n: i didn’t spend much time on this so i’m sorry it’s poorly written :( if parts don’t make sense please let me know and i’ll try to fix it

____________________

the edge of your glass rests upon your bottom lip when you see him. he stands by one of the few tables in the club, resting his weight upon his forearms. he looks up, his eyes searching the room before looking back down at his phone, a frown forming on his face.

you’ve seen many attractive men in your life, but there’s something about him. he’s enticing, alluring, and he hasn’t even looked at you. his dark hair is messy, intentionally so, and he looks so beautiful under the moving lights. normally you wouldn’t have the confidence to approach him, but the liquid courage flows steadily through you, and you find yourself walking towards him without too much forethought.

“hi,” you say, nerves a little more apparent now that you’re in front of him.

he looks at you, standing up straighter before he speaks.

“hello,” he replies. his tone is warm but still sceptical. you can almost see the gears turning in his mind as he tries to work out if he knows you or not.

“i’m y/n. sorry if this is weird, but you’re quite cute so i thought i’d come say hi,” you smile, but you can tell your smile looks awkward.

“huh?” he says, leaning in closer to hear you over the loud music.

your face heats up, but you raise your voice and repeat yourself anyway. you’ve already approached him, might as well commit to it.

“ah,” he says, his hand rising to rub absentmindedly at the back of his neck, a shy smile forming on his face.

“sorry, was that too forward of me?” you take a sip of your drink in an attempt to calm your growing nerves.

“nah, it’s just not very often i get called cute.” he chuckles, and the soft laughter sends a warmth through your heart.

“what? really? it would appear that i have to right this horrible wrong.” another chuckle, and it makes you happy to know you’re the one making him smile and laugh.

“oh, really now?” you nod in response, taking another sip of your drink as you watch the way his eyes sparkle in the dim light of the club. “i’m chan, by the way.”

“you here with anyone?”

he shakes his head before answering. “nah, i was meeting up with a friend but he just messaged saying he’s not coming.”

“damn, that’s no fun,” you reply.

“yeah, but at least you’re here so maybe tonight won’t be such a bust after all.” it’s the way he says it, the teasing, flirting tone that has your heart almost skipping a beat.

“can i buy you a drink in exchange for your company for the night then?” you ask.

after a quick nod of his head, you both walk up to the bar. he orders a drink while you down the rest of yours and quickly order another one. you can barely hear the bartender tell you the price over the thumping of the bass, but you swipe your card, nonetheless.

you drag chan to the dance floor, standing in front of him and beginning to grind back against him in time to the music. he downs half his drink before planting one of his hands on your hip, beginning to move his own with you.

the night carries on, the time spent dancing and drinking together, making out against the wall near the back of the club. you and chan have both lost count of how many drinks you’ve had, but that doesn’t stop him from ordering an uber and taking you back to his place.

when you wake in the morning it’s to an empty bed, and it takes you a moment to realise that you’re not in your own room. you think back, and your most vivid memory is of chan’s lips pressed against your neck while his hands roamed your body. you smile as the rest of last night’s events return to you.

you sit up, ignoring the way your head sways and throbs slightly at the movement. you grab your clothes, slowly getting dressed. the walk out of the bedroom is slow, and all you can think about is how dry your mouth feels. you don’t make it far out of the room before you’re almost colliding with chan’s chest.

“oh,” he exclaims, surprised to run into you. “i was just coming to see if you were awake.”

you look at him, your eyes squinting from the sunlight, and you can make out the smile on his face. it’s shy, just like the one when you told him he was cute the night before. and there’s something about his smile that’s contagious, prompting you to return a smile of your own.

“i’m awake,” you reply, voice still thick with sleep.

“i can tell. i was gonna make us breakfast but i kinda ended up burning it. so should we order something? my shout?”

you’re surprised, really. you were expecting him to kick you out, to send you on your merry way after a night of passion. but here he is, offering to order you breakfast. it’s sweet, and you can’t help but accept.

it’s nearing midday before you have to leave, chan having work in the afternoon. you exchange numbers before you go, promising to message and hopefully turn this one night stand into something more.

your relationship with chan blossoms from there, a couple of weeks spent getting to know each other a bit better before he officially asks you out. it was sweet, the way he did it. a crisp autumn evening curled up on his couch where he asks you the question. but, truth be told, that was the moment it went downhill.

it took him almost three months to notice. or maybe it just took him that long to admit it to himself. he truly wanted to look past the issue, he didn’t want to believe it to be true. but when it caused you to lose your job, he couldn’t ignore your drinking any longer.

looking back on those three months, he knows he should’ve realised sooner. it should have clicked in his mind when most of your dates were spent together in the clubs, dancing and drinking until you could barely stand. even when you weren’t going on dates, just time spent together in the evenings always included you with a drink constantly in your hand.

he wants the best for you, he doesn’t want to see you drown in the alcohol any more than you already are. it’s hard for him, and the months that follow his realisation are filled with countless arguments as he tries desperately to help you escape the clutches of your addiction. but you refuse to see the truth, you refuse to accept that you need help. and chan can’t take it anymore.

your phone buzzes with a message and you pick it up, seeing chan’s name on your screen.

chan: i’m coming over. i’ll be there in 10

you sit back against the couch, staring at the tv while you wait for him to show up. he’s right on time when you hear his rhythmic knock at your apartment door. dragging yourself to your feet, you walk over opening the door for him to enter.

he steps inside, closing the door behind him as he watches you walk towards the living room. he follows you, sighing heavily when he notices the almost empty bottle of vodka on the coffee table. it wasn’t a surprise to see it sitting there, but he still hates the sight.

“how much have you had?”

his question hangs heavy in the air as he awaits your answer, but you don’t give one. you seldom do. in the past, he wouldn’t push you to answer, but this time he does. he has to. he needs you to recognise that you have a problem.

“y/n? how much have you had to drink tonight?”

“why does it matter how much i’ve had?” you say, refilling your empty glass from the bottle and taking a sip, feeling the way it burns a path down your throat.

“because i need to have a serious chat with you, but i can’t do that if you’re drunk.”

“oh? a serious talk? are you here to berate me again?”

“berate you? y/n, i’m trying to help you. i’ve been trying to help you for months.” he runs a hand down his face, trying to calm his growing frustration. “look, i don’t want to do this, okay? i don’t want to break up with you.”

“wait, you’re breaking up with me?”

he pauses, releasing a heavy sigh, laden with sadness. one exhale of air and you can hear the mental exhaustion chan has been dealing with. and it hurts to know you’re the cause of it.

“i am.”

“but why?”

“because i can’t keep doing this. i’ve tried to help you. you say you’ll stop drinking but you don’t. i want to keep helping you, i want you to get better for your own sake. but i can’t be in a relationship with you right now.”

“so you don’t want to be with me anymore?”

“i do, y/n, believe me, i do want to be with you. but i can’t. you’re not okay, and this relationship is taking a toll on me,”

“but i am okay,”

“no, you’re not. people who are okay don’t act like this. they don’t spend this much time drinking. alcohol isn’t going to solve your problems. and even if it somehow did, it wouldn’t matter because it’s only causing you new ones.”

there’s a slew of emotions coursing through you. anger, frustration, sadness. and all you can do to keep them at bay is take another swig of vodka, this time straight from the bottle.

“i’d like for you to leave now.”

“y/n-”

“get out of my apartment.” chan hates the sight of the bottle in your hand, but he hates the crack in your voice more. he wants to hold you, to hug you tight and promise you that you’ll get through this. but he knows that if he stays any longer then you’ll only end up yelling at him.

the alcohol swimming through your veins does little to numb the sting in your heart when he leaves. and it’s only when you hear that door close that you let the tears fall. your relationship with chan felt doomed from the beginning. it began with a drink in your hand, and it ended with one too.

[swan-of-sunrise]

Specs and the Flyboy (Chapter Nineteen-Part Three)

Summary: (Y/N), Jack and their friends finally face off against Leviathan and the Secret Empire.

Pairing: Jack Thompson X Reader

Word Count: 4.1k

Warnings/Disclaimers:  None

A/N: Ya girl wrote this while dealing with sleep deprivation, cramps and the after effects of the vaccine, so I hope it’s good ‘cause at this point I can’t even tell lol Thank you all so much for reading! I hope that you enjoy!

Chapter Nineteen (Part III) Leviathan’s Weapons Facility, Lithuanian Soviet Socialist Republic (Previous Chapter)

While the two of them were ushered down the staircase that led into the crate-filled warehouse by Michael and Dottie, (Y/N)’s mind raced as she struggled to think of a way out of their current conundrum. I’ve been in plenty of tough scrapes before but even I’ll admit that this one’s the toughest one yet, she thought to herself, her eyes rapidly scanning the large room; there were large, frost-covered windows towards the ceiling, several boarded-up skylights and the two metal doors she spotted were both guarded by Leviathan soldiers. By the time they reached the base of the stairs, (Y/N) had counted a total of twenty armed enemy operatives – seventeen Leviathan guards, Attwell, Underwood and Michael Carter – and from the brief glimpse she’d gotten of their friends hidden behind a stack of crates, it looked as though both Pinkerton and Sawyer were badly injured and the others were trying to bandage their blood-soaked wounds. So, we’re out-gunned and out-numbered, she concluded with a sinking feeling as she bit her lip in worry.

“So, Chief Thompson did survive his daring escape!” Attwell grinned, walking out into the empty space amidst the crates and standing before the two of them. “Truth be told, I was hoping that we’d meet again; I detest leaving loose ends, and killing the SSR’s golden boy once and for all would’ve been a genuine pleasure.”

Beside (Y/N), Jack’s shoulders tensed but he tilted his head to the side in mock contemplation. “What, you couldn’t do it without your Leviathan goons backing you up? What a real tough guy.”

Attwell’s fist quickly connected with Jack’s stomach and when he doubled over in pain, the man struck him across the face and sent him sprawling to the ground. “Stop it!” (Y/N) started towards her partner but the sudden feeling of a pistol barrel against the back of her neck stopped her cold; tearing her eyes away from Jack, she met Attwell’s gaze and struggled to keep her voice steady as she spoke, “He’s not the one who’s screwing up your deal with Leviathan, I am.”

“Of course, of course, the infamous codebreaker.” Attwell stepped closer but she held her ground, raising her chin in defiance and refusing to look away despite how uncomfortable his stare made her feel. After a tension-filled moment, his face broke out into a stomach-churning smirk. “It’s a shame that such promising talent’s being squandered by the SSR, by those who dismiss and condescend you at every turn. I was very much like you before joining Hydra; I was overshadowed at Cambridge by my perfect older brother and his two brilliant flatmates; while William, Michael and Adam flourished in their respective fields of study, I floundered and was subsequently expelled but as luck would have it, I was approached by Hydra and offered a chance to unlock my true potential; and here I stand before you, Agent (Y/L/N), to offer you that very-same chance. With the new Leviathan, your immeasurable skills would not only be recognized but they’d also be celebrated. You and Michael could work side-by-side in our efforts to break through as the world’s leading superpower and once we achieve our goal of fully weaponizing Zodiac, Agent (Y/L/N), you’ll have everything you’ve ever truly desired.”

Out of the corner of her eye, (Y/N) noticed Jack’s hand resting on his waist and while Attwell talked, her partner’s index finger had tapped away. It only took her seconds to realize he was sending out a message in Morse Code on the walkie-talkie still clipped onto his belt and once she did, she knew exactly what she needed to do.

“You know, it’s a good thing you’re decent at codebreaking, Specs, ‘cause you’d make a pretty shit spy. You fidget too much.”

If Jack can think up an off-the-cuff plan to get us out of this mess then I can buy us all a little time by being a good spy, she thought with resolve just as Attwell finished up his speech. Taking a page out of her partner’s book, (Y/N) raised an incredulous brow at the man as the corner of her mouth curled into a humorless smile. “There was a time when I would’ve given just about anything for people to recognize me and my skills, to appreciate just how hard I’ve worked to get where I am today. But then I grew up and realized that the only person whose appreciation I needed was my own. Mr. Attwell, I don’t need to be celebrated or appreciated by anyone, but especially not by a pathetic imitation of the Red Skull.”

The man’s expression instantly grew cold at the comparison. “Then it would seem that you’re of no use to us.” His gaze shifted to look at whoever was holding her at gunpoint and he nodded. “Shoot her, Michael.”

“Stop!” All of them looked over just as Peggy jumped out from behind their makeshift barricade with her rifle pointed directly at Attwell. “I’ll give you the key.”

“Peggy, no!” The barrel of the pistol pressed harder into (Y/N)’s neck and she winced in pain. However, her horror was quickly replaced with dawning comprehension when Peggy flashed her a pointed look before briefly glancing in Jack’s direction. She knows about whatever Jack’s planning, she silently realized, playing along with her old friend’s ruse by rearranging her features into a look of righteous indignation.

Moving to stand beside Attwell, Dottie raised the hand that wasn’t holding her rifle and gave the younger woman a small wave. “Hiya, Peggy. You know, you really should’ve listened to me back in New York; I told you there were currencies in the world stronger than money. I practically spelled all of this out for you! But the great Peggy Carter couldn’t figure it all out on her own, so she needed the help of…” Dottie turned to (Y/N) with a frown. “What’re those revolting nicknames you call each-? Oh, never mind, I don’t want to know.” Turning back to Peggy, the spy shrugged. “Well, I suppose not everyone’s perfect, are they?”

“No, they’re certainly not.” Attwell agreed, gesturing with his head for Peggy to lower her weapon and holding out his hand once she’d set it on the ground. “No tricks, Agent Carter. The key, and you and your friends are free to go; it appears that at least one of them is in need of medical attention, so I’d be quick about it if I were you.” When Peggy’s eyes flicked over to where Michael was standing behind (Y/N), Attwell chuckled darkly and shook his head. “No, I don’t think dear old Michael’s going anywhere but by all means, Agent, go ahead and ask him if you don’t believe me.”

For the first time since they were ushered into the warehouse, Peggy looked directly at her older brother. Her hardened expression slipped and for the briefest of moments, (Y/N) recognized the vulnerable young woman she’d known all those years ago at Bletchley Park who mourned her beloved brother’s death. While her lower lip trembled, Peggy finally addressed Michael. “Not too long ago, I had a dream about you and you told me that you’d be right alongside me if you could. I didn’t believe it was possible, even when (Y/N) and Jack told me it was, but now we have a second chance at being a family again. Michael, you can finally come home.” She blinked away her tears and gave him the ghost of an encouraging smile. “Please, Michael, come home with me.”

(Y/N) could feel the pressure on her neck ease up but just as she was beginning to think that Peggy had succeeded in getting through to him, Michael coolly replied, “This is my family, Agent, the only family I have in this world.”

Peggy’s face crumpled as Attwell laughed in amusement. “I told you so! Now, the key for your friends.”

God, I hope that whatever Jack’s planning happens sooner rather than later, (Y/N) silently prayed, sucking in a breath while the younger woman approached Attwell. Once Peggy reached into her pocket and withdrew the familiar Arena Club pin, the man looked over at Dottie and gave her a nod; the spy slung the strap of her rifle over her shoulder and made her way over to one of the many wooden crates near them, kicking the lid off of it and lifting a small metal box out of the loose excelsior. The box looked innocent enough but as Dottie walked it over to Attwell, (Y/N)’s blood ran cold and she knew that the moment Peggy handed over that key, Leviathan would possess one of the world’s deadliest weapons and they’ll have lost.

“Get up, Chief Thompson,” Michael barked and while Jack got to his feet, (Y/N) was roughly pushed towards him. “And you, stand over there with him.”

(Y/N) did as he said, standing beside Jack and keeping her eyes on the scene unfolding before them as she murmured, “You okay?”

“Yeah, you?”

“Peachy-keen.” She watched Dottie hand the metal box over to Attwell, her anxiety steadily building within her while he examined the box’s intricate lock. “Are you going to fill me in on the plan or what?”

The corner of Jack’s mouth curled upwards and he quietly replied, “Patience is a virtue, Specs, just be ready for it.”

“Be ready for wha-?”

Just then as Peggy’s hand stretched out to give Attwell the Arena Club pin, the warehouse wall opposite them exploded. Rubble and splintered pieces of crates flew through the air but before (Y/N) could fully react, gunfire broke out all around them. Amidst the chaos, Jack latched onto (Y/N)’s hand and ran, yanking her behind the nearest tower of crates as bullets whizzed past their heads; both of them crouched on the ground and peeked around the wooden crates, and her eyes widened in amazement at what she saw. The explosion that had knocked down part of the warehouse wall hadn’t been an explosion at all but rather one of the Howlies’ trucks and as (Y/N) watched, Daniel and Henry used the truck’s doors as barriers while they exchanged fire with the Leviathan guards. Moments later, she spotted Peggy dart out from one of the aisles to join her boyfriend behind the open truck door.

“Wa-Hoo!”

Dugan’s deafening war cry from across the warehouse was punctuated by a fresh barrage of gunfire, and (Y/N) couldn’t help but revel at the familiarity of it all; her eyes were suddenly drawn to two men sprinting down the aisle towards her and Jack, and it took her a tense moment to recognize them through all the chaos.

“There you guys are!” Howard exclaimed before ducking down beside them, followed closely by an anxious-looking Edwin Jarvis. Reaching into the satchel that was slung over his shoulders, the inventor withdrew two handguns and offered the weapons to them. “You know, you two’ve got a real habit of gettin’ into trouble…”

Jack rolled his eyes in exasperation. “Says the man who was mind-controlled into almost gassing all of New York last year.” Springing up, he fired off several shots before ducking back down. “How’re we looking, Jarvis?”

“Well, Chief Sousa’s dramatic entrance provided enough of a distraction for Mr. Fieldman to escort Mr. Pinkerton and Mr. Sawyer out the front; their wounds aren’t life-threatening, but Mr. Fieldman promised he’d help treat them once they reach the clearing.” The butler set another satchel on the ground in front of them. “And we’ve brought more guns and ammunition, as per your request.”

“You know, Thompson, you said in your message that you needed a big diversion, but that whole entrance was my idea; I actually took it from one of my studio’s newest scripts, where a gangster steals-”

“Of course, Mr. Stark, your genius knows no bounds.” Edwin hurriedly interrupted the inventor’s rambling, glancing over at (Y/N) with his brow furrowed in worry. “And have you broken Mr. Carter out of his brainwashing? Where is he?”

Looking around the edge of the crate, (Y/N)’s heart dropped when noticed that several important people were missing from the gunfight. “Where the hell did they go, Jack?”

Jack craned his neck to see what she was looking at and swore loudly. “Shit, I-wait, they’re on the stairs!” By the time (Y/N) spotted them, Attwell, Dottie and Michael had reached the top of the stairs and had disappeared around the corner. “Jarvis, stay here with Stark and cover us, then go help the others.” Edwin nodded and her partner turned towards her, his blue eyes scanning her face for any signs of trepidation as he asked, “Are you ready, Specs?”

“As I’ll ever be,” (Y/N) pulled an extra ammunition magazine out of the satchel and tucked it into her pocket before giving Jack a determined nod. “Let’s finish this once and for all, Flyboy.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Compared to the chaotic warehouse they’d come from, the rest of the facility was eerily silent and it wasn’t at-all difficult to follow the footsteps of the fleeing trio through the deserted hallways.

“You know that this is probably a trap, right?”

“Naturally.”

“Good. Just wanted to make sure that we’re both on the same page.”

Before (Y/N) could get another word in, a figure she soon recognized as Dottie dropped down from above them and began attacking; the spy kicked the guns out of their hands, ramming her knee into (Y/N)’s stomach and knocking the wind out of her before spinning and using her leg to slam Jack into the wall beside them. (Y/N) took advantage of Dottie’s momentary distraction and aimed a side-kick at her thigh, but the spy merely turned her sharp fall into a somersault; she stood and threw a punch that (Y/N) was quick to duck, and then she grabbed the spy’s extended arm with the intent of wrenching it behind her back. Dottie predicted the move, yanking her arm free only to wrap her hand around her throat and roughly shove her back against the wall.

The back of (Y/N)’s head erupted into a sharp pain while Dottie flashed her a condescending smile. “I already told you, you’re too easy! It’s almost pathetic to see you try so hard to be as good as Peggy.”

“Don’t need to be as good as Peggy,” (Y/N) choked out as the fingers around her throat tightened. “Just…just good enough to keep you distracted.”

Dottie frowned in confusion and that’s when Jack slammed the butt of his gun against the back of her head. The spy tumbled to the ground in an unconscious heap and (Y/N) doubled over, her hands firmly clutching her knees as she coughed and gasped for air. “(Y/N), you okay?” She nodded and allowed Jack to take hold of her shoulders, his soothing encouragements helping her finally regain her breath; once he was sure that she was fine, her partner handed over her dropped gun and rested his hand against the small of her back to urge her forward. “C’mon, let’s go…”

They left the motionless spy behind and continued down the hallway, turning the corner and finding themselves at the entrance of a dimly-lit boiler room. Beside (Y/N), Jack shuddered and she recalled the story he’d told her of the mission he and Peggy had conducted to investigate one of Leviathan’s training facilities; she nudged him with her elbow and gave him a brief smile, wishing that she could offer him more comfort but not wanting to distract them both from their mission. Jack nodded as if to say he was fine, but his shoulders remained tense while he silently gestured for her to go left into the room while he went right.

(Y/N) crept behind the various boilers and pipes, careful not to slip on the slick ground as she did. If I end up surviving all this, I think I’m going to sleep for a week straight, she thought to herself, her heart rate steadily increasing with each step she took. While she edged herself around another heavy piece of industrial furnacing, she found herself trying to think of how to break Michael out of his mind-control long enough to save him; Jack insisted that cognitive re-calibration was the only way but after being present for Peggy and Michael’s reunion, she wondered if reminding him of his past or even recent actions would also do the trick. But a sharp skid noise right behind her made her forget her train of thought and turn, dodging the knife just in time.

“You really should’ve taken my offer, Agent (Y/L/N),” Attwell spat out, slashing at her with the knife again and forcing her to stumble back into the center aisle of the boiler room; the blade sliced against her forearm and she stifled her cry of pain, dropping her gun and leaping out of the way as he aimed for her again. “Soon, you and your foolish friends will be dead and Leviathan will have more power than you could possibly imagine!”

“Don’t you ever get tired of hearing your own damn voice?” (Y/N) retorted, her hand shooting out and twisting the red-colored knob beside them; a pipe next to Attwell spewed out pressurized steam and he let out a shriek of pain as the steam enveloped the right side of his face. Not wanting to stick around, she turned and sprinted further into the vast room, a part of her hoping that she’d bought herself enough time to save Michael. Skidding around a corner, she was immediately met with the sight of Jack and Michael engaged in a vicious fight on the floor; her partner was trying to wrestle something out of the other man’s closed fist, but he was so preoccupied with his task that he didn’t see Michael’s other hand brush the handle of a nearby gun. (Y/N) kicked the gun away from him, pinning his shoulder to the ground with her knee and spoke the first thing that came to mind. “Visions, light, cheered, night, dream!”

As she finished reciting the five words he’d used to encode his final message to Peggy, something shifted in Michael’s dark eyes and his clenched fist relaxed, allowing Jack to snatch the Arena Club pin from him. Before any of them could say or do anything more, a fiery ache erupted along her shoulder blade and she cried out in pain as she pitched forward. “(Y/N)!” Jack looped his arms underneath hers and dragged her over to half-lean against a pipe; her vision was partially clouded by the pain, but she could still make out the bloody knife he’d just pulled out of her upper back and tossed onto the ground beside them. “No, no, don’t look at that, just keep your eyes on me!” He pressed his trembling hand tight against the wound and when she nearly whimpered, he held the side of her face with the other and frantically nodded, his blue eyes steadily filling with panic that he struggled to control. “I-I know it hurts, baby, but I have to keep pressure on it; it’s not very deep, but I can’t have you fainting right now so keep your eyes on me, c’mon-”

“How touching,” Both of them looked up to see Attwell and Michael standing before them, the former with a self-satisfied smirk on his half-seared face and the latter staring stonily down at them. “Let’s make a new deal, Chief Thompson: Give me the key, and I won’t let Agent (Y/L/N) slowly bleed out on the floor of this boiler room.”

“Bastard.” Jack spat back, but his hand left (Y/N)’s face long enough to retrieve the Arena Club pin from his pocket and throw it into Attwell’s waiting hand. “You better start lookin’ over your shoulder now, Attwell, ‘cause I won’t rest until I kill you myself.”

Attwell shrugged and ran his fingers over the pin, twisting it sharply to convert it into a key. “Such fiery attitude in the face of doom was precisely why I was looking forward to killing you. But then I realized, forcing a man like you to live with your mistakes is a far worse punishment than death; and to make this victory sweeter, I plan on unlocking Zodiac in front of you both, so you can see just how spectacularly you failed yourselves, your agency and your country.” He turned to Michael with his brow raised in expectation. “Are you ready to make history, old chap?”

Michael nodded. “Of course…” He reached into his pocket and pulled out the metal box containing Zodiac; (Y/N) tried getting up, unwilling to sit back and let Leviathan win, but Jack’s strong arms held her in place against him. When she met his gaze, he gave her a barely-discernible head shake and with her jaw clenched tight, she watched Attwell push the key into the lock and turn it clockwise; the lid popped open and the man breathed a sigh of relief, reaching into the slightly-smoking box and holding an electric-blue colored vial with strange etchings carved into the glass.

“Beautiful, isn’t it? So much potential for war and destruction, and it fits within the palm of my hand.” Attwell looked up at Michael and continued, “My brother never appreciated such things, you know. He never truly appreciated you, either; once you were found out to be a deep-cover spy for the SOE, I saw an opportunity to mold you into the person you were always meant to be. Do you remember the first thing I told you after you came out of Hydra’s operating room?”

Michael’s hardened expression faltered, almost as if he was struggling to control his actions, and in an instant, he drew his gun and shot Attwell directly in the chest. There were tears in his eyes as he finally replied, “‘Michael, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.’”

The box and the vial slipped out of the dying man’s hands and as he began to sway dangerously on his feet, (Y/N) lunged forward and caught both in her hands before they could hit the ground. While Attwell’s lifeless body collapsed to the ground in a heap, she and Jack hurriedly placed the deadly Zodiac back into the box and slammed the lid closed; she let out a shaky breath, unable to grasp everything that had just happened. Michael dropped to his knees, tossing his gun to the side and rubbing his head with one hand; still mindful of her now-oozing wound, Jack held her a little closer as they both warily watched the unsteady man turn away from Attwell’s body to look at them. “I-It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Agent (Y/L/N). I’m Michael Carter, SOE.”

A smile slowly stretched across (Y/N)’s face and a sense of relief was beginning to wash over her as a familiar voice called throughout the boiler room. “(Y/N)? Jack?”

“We’re back here, (Y/N) needs some medical attention but we’re okay!” Jack called back, meeting (Y/N)’s gaze and flashing her a lopsided grin. “You’re gonna be fine, Specs, you hear me?” With a relieved chuckle, Jack leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her sweat-covered brow before resting his cheek on the top of her head. “We’re all gonna be fine.”

“Hey!” The first person who rounded the corner was Daniel, whose gun was already at the ready when he pointed it at Michael. “Hey, get the hell away from them!”

Jack held out a placating hand to the chief. “Easy, Danny Boy, he’s good right now; he’s the one who killed Attwell.”

Lowering his gun, Daniel limped over to where they sat against the pipe and knelt down as best he could to examine her knife wound. “Looks like the knife missed everything important, thank goodness. What the hell happened down here?”

Jack detailed everything they’d dealt with after hurrying out of the warehouse as their friends joined them; Edwin began treating her various wounds with Henry’s assistance, Howard carefully stowed the box containing Zodiac and its key into a satchel and Dugan worked on locating a weak point in the wall to blow a quick exit for them. There was a flurry of voices and activity surrounding (Y/N), but all her attention was on Peggy and Michael; they were talking to each other in low tones, Michael looking heartbreakingly unsure and Peggy trying her hardest not to cry, until they both surged forward and hugged one another. For the second time that day, (Y/N) was reminded of Freddie but while she watched the Carter siblings finally reunite, she didn’t feel sadness or envy, but rather pride. She was proud of herself, for having helped stop Leviathan’s plans and for having made-do on her promise to reunite her oldest and dearest friend with her beloved brother. If anyone deserves a second chance at happiness it’s those two, she thought to herself, taking a deep breath and resting her head against Jack’s strong shoulder.

They did it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Only one more chapter left!! Like I said, idk how I feel about this chapter as a whole so I’m sorry if there’s mistakes/it’s bad, but next week’s is gonna be great! Thank you guys so much for reading! If you haven’t checked it out yet, I created a Spotify playlist for this series and it’s linked down below!

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/21pWY7OiMFj8LaYpxhtVtW

Chapter Twenty

“Specs and the Flyboy” Masterlist

Tagging: @nnon-it-up @fluffymadamina @remmyswritings @ourstarsailor @darkusangelus @josis-teacup @marvel-jackt-loki-buck @yeetyeetchickenmeat @sameoldbaby @theserenityspace @seeing-but-not-observing @supervoldejaygent​ @momc95​ @brooke0297​ @kinda-c0nfused​ @outoftheregular

[itsonlystrange]

It’s official, I’m writing all of Stranger Things Season Four

I announced that I was going to do this way back in November, when I originally started, but here’s the official announcement.

Yes! I am writing all of ST 4, since we probably won’t have it for awhile, I’ve decided to take matters into my own hands.

I’ve been writing scripts for about five ish years now. I’ve taken multiple screenwriting classes and I have studied the duffers writing and stranger things itself for about 5 months now, jotting down all character qualities and traits so this will be as realistic as possible.

Now, as we will probably be getting more information as time goes on, this obviously isn’t going to be similar to the actual st4.

But NO! This is NOT A FANFICTION.

I will be writing it like an actual script, I’ve taken notes on the duffers writing and hopefully by the end it will turn out similar enough for you to imagine it as if it was canon.

I will be using ALL EVIDENCE OF SEASON 4 AND ALL PRIOR SEASON KNOWLEDGE ASWELL.

This means, YES! All new characters will be implemented into this season. It also means, YES! All audition tapes we’ve seen thus far (that aren’t from prexisting movies that the duffers used to try and trick us with) WILL BE REAL SCENES.

ALSO: the video store friday list comes into this big time. We don’t know exactly why certain VSF movies were put on the list, but I will be watching all VSF movies to get an idea on how the actual ST4 will play out so I can incorporate that into my version.

This will be completely canon compliant (SO FAR) as I’ve said, things will change by the time I get this done, so our educated guesses now could be very unreliable once we get actual set pics and more audition tapes and leaks. HOWEVER:

Since we don’t know where the Byers moved, they will be in Chicago.

NOW FOR WHAT IT WILL INCLUDE:

-Canon Byler

NOW HANG ON! No! I will not be tearing apart Mileven. Mike and El WILL break up but mutually and respectively. THIS IS NOT A FANFICTION, meaning all the characters WILL BE IN CHARACTER! So if that means Mileven takes longer to break up, then so be it. My goal is for this to sound real, for it to sound like it could actually be a season of stranger things.

NO! The main plot line will NOT BE BYLER. This isn’t a byler script. This is stranger things season four. All I can say is that Byler will be canon by the end. And the two scripts and sneak peaks I have posted thus far give you a hint as to how it will happen.

- I know I already said this but I’m reiterating: all characters from leaked audition tapes and Charles Murphy leaks and official stranger things announcements will be in this season. (Minus Fred bc we know virtually nothing about him so I can’t create a character surrounding someone we know nothing about) this includes: Hellfire club members and Eddie, Jason and ten basketball team, Chrissy, Vickie, Angela, Jake, argyle, and more!

-Brenner, Owens, and Lonnie are all back.

-Wileven angst (as I feel that is realistic after studying both of their characters) however you will get good wileven content.

-Will and El are still being bullied.

-Joyce and Murray team up (duh)

-Mike runs away to the Byers for Will’s birthday

-Will develops powers, HOWEVER, they are not even remotely similar to el’s powers and are more similar to the powers he already has (sensing the mind flayer) but on a much bigger scale.

-We meet a new number/lab experiment

-The upside down is seeking into Hawkins

-hellfire club is under scrutiny and people are accusing them of all the bad stuff going on in Hawkins

-A current main character will die along with some new characters. (Sorry guys! Like I said, this will be realistic and I have to do this in order for it to be realistic!)

-Will gets a coming out scene.

-Max and Dustin team up.

-Robin and Nancy team up.

-Max isn’t doing too hot rn but shes getting a GREAT arc.

-Lucas Is on the basketball team and is semi popular but is being used to do the upper class men’s bidding, he gets AN ACTUAL ARC THIS SEASON! (Hurray!!)

-Heartfelt Joyce moments.

-An AWESOME sound track! I’ll be creating a Spotify playlist for this!!

-Nine episodes! (Since we don’t know the current episode titles I’ll be creating them as I go, but PLEASE be aware that we’ll probably have the real episode titles before my season is done.)

-This s season will be very similar to seasons one and two.

-Much more darker elements.

-Will actually gets screen time and is a center plot point again.

-Billy is still dead lol. No revival! Sorry!

-Kids in America plays !!

-El is a total badass this season.

-Mike and Robin moments.

-Murray and Erica moments.

-Dustin gets a super amazing plot that I’m super excited for!

-A much scarier threat this time, the worse they’ve encountered.

-And MUCH MUCH MORE!

I CURRENTLY HAVE EPISODES 1, 2, AND HALF OF 3 COMPLETED.

Episode one will be available very soon. Full season will be out by April or May hopefully, maybe sooner.

-THERE WILL BE A TRAILER!!

PLEASE REBLOG AND SPREAD THE WORD.

Check out my Instagram, @bylerluvver for sneak peaks.

I’ll be updating this ever so often, and will be posting sneak peaks here and there to get you guys pumped.

STAY TUNED!

-REBLOG PLEASE-

PS: link will be in my bio and pinned hopefully after I finish episode three.

Each episode will be about an hour in screen time, or about 80 pages.

EPISODE ONE OUT SOON!