#((shaking in my seat i love them ur honor))

[ladyseidr]

@florietiae ( continued from here )

spring incarnate / life's daughter and yet bride to death. a mirroring grin in return, as if the very sun bends to her somehow. he's nervous. she can tell. how could he not be ? he was still so young. still coming into himself, finding his way. with this in mind, persephone makes a note to be at her most welcoming. she bids him sit with her, and upon his agreement, persephone shifts so that he may join her. it soon becomes apparent that there's something else, though. but before she can ask about it, he beats her to it. ❛ i'd say that most things do. ❜ it's a valid query, after all. as is his next. ❛ i can ! yes to both. some of my powers were inherited, while others are completely unique to me.❜ she leans in closer, as if he's telling her a secret. ❛ oh, how interesting. i wish i could do that. i would love to offer the birds and squirrels some of my berries. as well as finally ask cerberus about where he hides his toys. ❜ the joke is no doubt a lighthearted one. ❛ is that new for you ? ❜

Atreus was quick to kneel beside her despite any nerves. Excitement could easily overcome his worries, and meeting another friendly god was an easy source of excitement. The confirmation that her land shares similarities to his own Nordic lands only produced a bright smile. The realms were so different, he could not help but wonder how much that lied beyond the mundane differed from pantheon to pantheon, from land to land.

"Me too. Some of my abilities are from my mother or father, but lately some of them have even surprised by father!" A pause, smile taking on a air of amusement if faint confusion. "Not much surprises him. I think he had a pretty weird life before me." The tales of his life before meeting Atreus's mother would have been unbelievable if Atreus thought his father capable of making up a decent story. "That's part of being a god, though, isn't it? It's kind of strange at times." Giant wolves and realm-ending wars and three-piece souls. Nothing seemed simple since he had found out about his godhood.

He lit right back up at the praise of his powers. "I could help with that! The birds and squirrels, I mean." A light laugh escaped him. "Yeah, it's pretty new. It was confusing at first—suddenly hearing voices and feeling emotions that weren't mine. But it's been really helpful, so it was worth the trouble!"

[brittle-doughie]

Heya! Sorry for requesting if the request box is closed since I don't really know if it opens and it's my first time requesting! But, after seeing that rivalry between Ninja Cookie and Hero Cookie post, can I request something like that but with Ice Captain and Pirate Cookie (both are really underrated & I love them both!)? Like maybe the reader is just a average sailor who is stuck in a love triangle between the two?

The Greedy or the Honorable (Pirate Cookie vs. Captain Ice Cookie)

You really didn’t know what happened…

You were just sailing on the waters in your little boat, hoping to at least get a glimpse of the rumored Tower of Frozen Waves, you’ve been learning anything you could about this tower amidst the sea and today was the day you’re going to see it with your own eyes, you were even going to photograph it…when you felt a bump against your boat! A pirate ship!

“Avast ye! It be a little dingy next to my ship! Board it and see what ye can find, mateys!”

OH NO. OH NO. You hurry into your small cabin and grab your swashbuckler sword right before your cabin door bursts open to a group of ghost pirates. You pointed your weapon at them, to ur shaking as you did so.

You told them to stay back! You had a weapon and you knew how to use it! This wasn’t your first rodeo with thieves in the sea! Pirate Cookie stood at the front of the group, a grin on his face as he fiddled with his mustache.

“I admire yer courage, lad/lass. But yer still outnumbered, KHAHA!”

He was right…and that’s how you ended up on his ship, packed with his phantom crew mates. The only other passengers were this crab and a another cookie, he mentioned their name was…Sorbet Shark Cookie?

It took a lot of prying, but he got you to talk about your trip to the Tower of Frozen Waves. He’s seen the map when he boarded your ship, you two had the same goal in mind! You can take your photograph and he can take the treasure at the top!

He promises that he won’t hurt you as long as you help him out with what you knew about the tower as well. Don’t be a stranger now, have a glass of juice with him to calm the air!

Sorbet Shark Cookie seems to like you at least, even if you couldn’t understand a word they were saying. You got the message when they took a seat on your lap.

Now that he’s gotten a good look at you, you’re not a bad Cookie to look at all, compared to what he’s seen on these waters that’s for sure! You appreciated his compliments..you guess?

You…asked if he’ll let you go after he’s gotten the treasure.

“Ahh, I’m still thinkin’ about it. Ye could make a great addition to me crew!”

Oh dear.

Suddenly, the door to the cabin bursts open!

“HALT, PIRATE COOKIE!”

“GAH! Captain Ice Cookie! Make a run fer it, mateys!”

You’d probably be out the window if Sorbet Shark Cookie wasn’t clinging to your side the whole way!

Something compelled you to keep Sorbet safe, so you tried to roll with it by lifting them up onto your shoulders! You were just about to reach for the window-

“Stragglers? You two, stop!”

You didn’t know if the events that happened before were going to get worse from here as you and Sorbet are taken aboard this Captain Ice’s ship. It look like a tidier ship at least..you clutched Sorbet close to your side, who was bubbling about something.

They were worried, you were too.

Captain Ice didn’t know what to think of you, you didn’t look like one of Pirate Cookie’s goons, at least more then Sorbet Shark Cookie. Your sailor outfit looks more akin to her own sailors’ uniforms, were you..kidnapped by Pirate Cookie? She had to know.

“Do you know Pirate Cookie?”

Only for the few hours you’ve met him since he pulled you from your ship!

“So you were a hostage..tell me, did he hurt you in any way?”

No, surprisingly enough. He said he wouldn’t if you helped with the treasure at the top of the Tower of Frozen Waves.

“Of course…and what were you doing sailing towards here?”

You were just hoping to catch sight of the tower yourself and hopefully take a picture of it. It was going to look great in your scrapbook you can tell her that!

“If that really is what you’re planning, then you better stick with me. You’re much better off then with Pirate Cookie, he’d toss you aside fast if it meant treasure was in his hands.”

She said this as she planted a hand on your shoulder, a calm expression on her face. You shivered at the touch, were you really safer with Captain Ice?

You swear Captain Ice is watching you like a hawk. Step out onto the deck? She was quick to pull you close to her, advising that it was dangerous to lean over the port side.

She was insistent that you stuck by her at all times, you can’t let your guard down on the water, so count on her to have your back!

You managed to reunite with Sorbet and they’ve brought along someone new, Peppermint Cookie. Captain Ice can’t lie to herself, it was endearing seeing you tend to the two little ones, even if one of them was a pirate.

She’s decided that it was too risky to return you to your ship, so you’re sticking with her until her ship returns to port. Who knows what will happen when a cookie as..delightful as you were is left alone at sea.

And when the Captain Ice and Pirate meet at the tower…

“Y/N Cookie! There ye are! I be worried about-GAH! Captain Ice Cookie!”

Captain Ice gets in front of you, protectively so.

“You’re not getting to them! They told me all about how you kidnapped them from their ship!”

“Ah, ye have it all wrong! I were simply..erm..providing hospitality to a lonely sailor like they there! They and I got along nicely afterwards!”

“They told me you’d keep them hostage until you’ve reached the treasure! That’s what all this is about, then you’ll discard them like they’re nothing!”

“I..I be doin’ nothing of the sort! They help me get the treasure and they be part of me crew!”

“Absolutely not! Pirates like you can’t be trusted! They’re better off with me and my crew!”

Wha…what?! That wasn’t what she said earlier!

“Leave them be! They go with me crew!”

“Never! They’re staying with me!”

“It’s fer the best ye don’t get yer grubby mitts on them!”

“Like yours are any better!”

As they bickered, Sorbet silently nudged you and gave you your camera back. You took a quick snapshot of the tower before you before silently making your way to the stairs to the lower floors.

“YAR! Y/N COOKIE! WHERE YE BE GOING!”

“Y/N COOKIE! STOP!”

THAT WAS YOUR CUE!

You bolted down the tower after giving a brief goodbye to Peppermint and Sorbet, with the two cookies giving chase.

You spotted your boat still tied to Pirate’s. GREAT!

You hopped on, quickly turn around to take a quick snapshot of the tower in all of its glory before you undid the tie and started sailing!

“Y/N COOKIE!”

NOPE. YOU WERE OUT! You turned to the base of the tower as Pirate and Captain Ice watched you from there. You bid them adieu as you sailed off!

“YE THINK YE LOSE ME THAT EASILY?!”

“Y/N COOKIE! GET IN MY SHIP BEFORE HE KIDNAPS YOU AGAIN!”

They were sailing after you, they were GODDAMN SAILING AFTER YOU!

You just wanted a photo for Tree’s sake!

[cloveroctobers]

R. Jerimovich | summer/fall prompts !

A/N: yeah this was supposed to be included in my summer prompt collection but time got away from me. Decided to combine and make this my first October prompt of 2022! Hope you enjoy! I’m wondering what they’re gonna do for season 2? I’m challenging myself to write shorter prompts so I can get work out in a timely manner…here goes nothing 😆!

Update; no luck :/ + WARNINGS: language + enemies to lovers? Or rather shit-talking to friends? Lol. Friends with benefits? Is this a Richie x reader or is it undercover Mikey x reader? Idk I just tried to write what it would be like to have him as a friend but it felt a little questionable at times lol. Anyways! Hope you like this 🫶🏽

Prompt: Skinny dipping + Campfire Evenings + 31. “Do you ever wonder if you’d survive a horror movie?”

*ೃ༄ *ೃ༄ *ೃ༄ *ೃ༄ *ೃ༄ *ೃ༄ *ೃ༄ *ೃ༄

Yeah…you didn’t know what the fuck you were doing here but when your phone lit up, you were on go. His texts should have stayed green but you loved being needed and that was a problem in itself. It has been at least three weeks since the last time you talked to Richie, catching him all dressed up on a date. It was laughable to you, how he could put in the effort for some stranger but couldn’t bother to do the same for you.

He could if he really wanted to.

You’ve always been sidelined and you knew you didn’t deserve it. It was the same useless story since you went off to college and still decided to come back to Chicago. You were there first, through it all and he still chose someone else. You were there for the wedding, the birth of his daughter, and the divorce but somehow you were always second. Even when it came to your shared friendship with Mikey Berzatto…it was a complex trio.

“Why don’t you just date me?” Michael asked you one night; as you ranted over a new Monica joint blasting through your phone.

This was said during a dreadful December, two months before he passed.

You quirked up a brow as Michael glanced back at you, arms hanging over the railing with the view of Chicago’s river walk in the distance, “would you?”

Michael snorted at you with a shake of his head. “Trust me, if I could get a babe like you to fall in love wit a fella like me? It be a honor. But naah I’m not putting myself through that heartbreak! plus I love you too much to even think about you that way. although…it would be fun to piss rich off.”

Scoffing you folded your arms into your lap, leaning forward as you braced yourself against the brutal winter air. Michael maybe five years older than you but you instantly clicked, ever since you became neighbors with your family across the street. The both of you were friends for awhile but Richie knew him first, since their childhood although there was a year or two difference between them. He always liked to make that known, arm lounging around Mikey’s shoulders as he drunkenly boasted, “this right here is my fucken guy! My fucken brother!”

And of course Mikey Berzatto ate that up, grin as wide as the bridge of his nose, “yeah, yeah that’s right you better love me.”

“What? I thought it was a given that you’re my bitch!” Richie pecked the man’s cheek, earning a scowl from the then spiked haired man.

“Your what? Fuck outta here. Moments ruined, jackoff!” Mikey laughed, shoving the man towards you, who stumbled back with you quickly stepping out of the way to not be toppled by the 6’1 man.

Richie caught himself by the bar, slumping against one of the seats by you. He sighed, cup still in his hand as he blinked over at you who side eyed him, “he’s just playing hard to get like you, huh, baby?”

Which of course earned a eye roll from you as you sipped at the rest of your drink, now twenty-one and sent a middle finger at the striking blue eyed man. Both men howled with laughter, Michael reaching over to rest a hand in between your shoulder blades.

“That’s right, y/n! He ain’t worth your time!”

“Excuse me?!”

“Oh, clean the wax outta your ears, rich!”

“I’m the best thing she’s got.” Richie argued.

Mikey scrunched up his lips while you glared at a very drunk Richie, “Which is equal to dog shit.”

That earned a cackle from you, picked fro thrown back as you did with Mikey’s hand still resting on your upper back.

“What the fuck?!” Richie’s enlarged eyes were clearly offended but it’s not like Mikey cared much.

He was just telling it like it was, he’s been on the inside of both relationships and was honest with each of you on what he truly thought.

He then wrapped his large arms fully around your neck, giving you a brief squeeze then kissed your temple, “I think she agrees.”

He winked.

Michael was just magnetic that way and there was something about you that he liked the first day he met you, kicking over a garbage can into the street to get the attention of the garbage men who were extremely close to backing into your father’s Toyota Celica that he just gave you for your eighteenth birthday.

You ended up fracturing your foot in two places but at least the garbage men didn’t ruin your new sweet ride. Michael had to give you credit, you knew how to get your point across if you got pushed enough. Since the moment you and your family moved in, he waved to your ma often, not having much time to talk since it seemed like she was always rushing off to work. Michael knew the feeling at twenty-three but as the second man in the berzatto household, he knew hard work since he was practically in diapers! You on the other hand were hard to come by with Michael working crazy hours at the Original Beef of Chicagoland with his dad but when he did see you, he always wondered what you were up to next.

“that the one that broke her foot kicking that garbage can?” A twenty-one year old Richie asked, as Michael and him were making their way back to the Berzatto household for Sunday dinner.

You were dragging your booted foot down the steps, keys jingling in your hand as you took your time going down them.

“Yeah that’s her.” Michael replied, blunt perched between his lips.

Richie decided to call out, “hey, sweetheart! I heard you like kicking cans! And it usually means having a full-time meeting with our maker above. You know you’re usually supposed to drag them to the sidewalk or street if you prefer.”

“And, and, anddd, minding your got damn business is free! So you might want to work a little harder if you want to be hired, asswipe.” You called back out in a sweet tone, hand resting on the railing of the stairs, with the other on your hip as you took a break.

Mikey laughed at the clapback, smacking Richie’s shoulder who was now glaring at you from across the street. “Sorry about my dumb friend here, y/n! Don’t pay him any mind.”

“Thanks, Mikey. I won’t!” You beamed from across the street, making the gelled haired man laugh once more.

Richie held his hands out, confused on what was happening right now. Why was he being ganged up on…especially by some pretty chick Mikey suddenly befriended? Yeah he was feeling a little pressed.

“Well I hope you have a good rest of the day then!” Richie continued, “try kicking a lamp post this time, maybe you’ll break your shit in three places.”

“How about I come over there and kick your ass instead, Hm? ‘Ol bean pole looking—

“Come see me then!” Richie waved his fingers over at the girl.

Mikey jumped in front of his friend, stepping into the street behind a parked car as he actually saw you start to move down your steps again.

“Okay!” Mikey coughed before clapping his hands together then pulled the blunt to rest behind his ear, “no! Let’s start over, Richie this is my lovely neighbor y/n, she’s all studious which I’m sure you can tell with the glasses and shit, loves cats, sandwiches, and cars. Y/n this is my knucklehead best friend, Richie. He’s basically a extra brother I didn’t want but my right hand, got the prettiest eyes you’ve ever seen, loves a good pair of adidas, and hates trains.”

Richie had his eyes in slits, still staring over at you while you pushed your oval glasses against your nose.

“…why don’t you like trains?”

“Huh?”

“I said, Why don’t you like trains?” You repeated.

“They don’t ever know where the fuck they’re going! The L’s got too many lines: red, pink, brown—the hell is this? Twister?! Fuck.”

A bubble of laughter escaped your lips while Michael lightly shook his head at his friend who was easily frustrated discussing the train routes.

“Well…you could always drive.”

“In this traffic? With what car?! Mikey’s hoopty? The thing can’t even get around the block without blowing a tornado outta its ass!” The long curly haired man fanned his hands.

“This is my last warning,” Mikey pointed at the taller man, “Don’t talk about my baby like that, rich.”

Richie scoffed.

You blew out a raspberry as you now stood on your side of the sidewalk, “sounds tough, Richard. But I’ve gotta go to my car over there so enjoy that train ride or don’t.”

“It’s Richie.”

“That’s what I said,” you blinked before turning back to Mikey, “catch you later, Mikey? Tell sugar I said hey.”

“Will do. Take it easy out there on them streets, huh?”

“Of course. I’m no idiot.”

“I know it, just don’t need to hear from your dad down at Chicagoland you went and injured somethin’ else.”

“Too charming for me, Mikey.” You smiled, slowly strolling over to your car as Richie watched this whole exchange, chewing down on his bottom lip.

Mikey puffed out a laugh, beginning to back up onto the curb as you took your time climbing into your car, always on the go. You started up your car, leaving your driver side and passenger side windows ajar as your car vibrated with Lil Wayne’s, “Way of life.”

Busting a U-Turn you drove by the boys waving as you went the opposite direction.

“That girl listens to Weezy?”

Michael glanced at his friend, “yeah, so?”

“I expected Alicia keys, Sugababes, or even Celine dion like sugar.” Richie shrugged, still looking down the streets.

Michael snorted as he knocked his knuckles against Richie’s abdomen, “uh oh you seem kinda concerned there, Richard. I knew she would have your interest.”

“What?” Richie inhaled, “me and that four eyed bow-legged—

“Hey,” Michael cut in, “she’s cool. You started with her remember? That girl ain’t do nothing to you.”

“She called me a asswipe and a bean pole!” Richie placed his hand on his chest as they carried on to Michael’s house, “I work out, okay!”

“That was after you told her to break her foot some more,” Michael yelled as he began jogging up the three steps to his house, “and all you do is jog in place and do three push ups whenever Juliana and the twins show up at the park.”

“Oh fuck off,” richie shoved Michael inside of his house as the older boy pushed the front door open, “I should be the one grilling you! You seem quite in love with her yourself!”

“Nah,” Michael shook his head, “don’t do that. We’re friends and she’s eighteen, that’s not for me. I just wanted you two to meet, put a name to the face her dad was telling my old man about the other day.”

“Can’t say I believe that, Mikey.”

“Believe whatever the hell you want then.”

The two had a intense stare off before the voice of a young Carmy called out to his big brother.

“Mike! Sugar needs your help with ma!”

Michael broke his stare with his best friend to see his dark blond haired brother leaning over the banister of the stairs. He sighed knowing what this meant as he glanced at Richie who waved him along.

“Right, c’mon down here with Richie, Carmy.”

Carmy appeared as if he was ready to argue but the look Mikey gave him made the eight year old mutter to himself instead. He thudded down the steps, leaving Mikey to plop a palm against the top of his head nudging it around before he headed up the steps himself.

“Sup, little shit. What you into these days?” Richie shoved his hands into his pockets as Carmy stared at him with his own set of round blue eyes.

Carmy puffed out a breath, “a helluva lot more than you, richie. I’m gonna call dad.”

“Yeah, you do that.” Richie scoffed at the small boy who jogged by him to enter the kitchen.

The memories kept hitting you and Richie as you sat bundled with a blanket around the firepit. The heat radiated against your frame as you sat, legs crossed over the other while a slight breeze continued to pick up. It’s been a couple of hours since you pulled up to the coach house Richie pin dropped to you and you had a lot of questions.

Why was he renting this airbnb for the two of you when he was the main one who was the penny pincher? Your eyes held the questions but Richie was all grins as he held out a glass of red wine and a spliff in between his lips as he greeted you.

A simple:

i miss u. cme see me 🤲 — Richard

With a location attached was what got you here. Foolish, you knew. The directions let you know it would be a good drive and you had the weekend off so you wondered if you needed to pack a bag. Unfortunately that was your first thought with the second being should you even bother with this Richie Jerimovich? It caught you off guard with Richie being on a full on date after you called your arrangement quits due to Richie not wanting to commit. That was three weeks ago, it hurt but you kept yourself busy as a front desk supervisor down at the starcloud hotel. No matter how much you tried to put it to the back of your mind, it didn’t help that richie felt the need to text you the next afternoon letting you know that the date didn’t go anywhere.

Leaving him on read made you feel better than the actual news. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction that the pain subsided about 10% at that. Then another text asking you to come see about him a week later changed everything.

He got naked and decided to go skinny dipping in a jacuzzi but you would not be joining him. Smart choice. You were comfortable sitting right at the firepit despite this man slinging everything around in his own glory. The silence was loud after Richie’s obnoxious rant the first time he stepped into the steaming water but it was quieter on this side of town.

“Stop staring at me, Richard.” You slouched further into your chair, knowing he was doing just that.

“I’m not.”

“I can feel your eyes.”

“No you can’t.” He denied.

You suddenly turned your head to Richie who visibly flinched at your movement, “see!”

“That’s because you started talkin’ to me, it’s called respect! You look at people when they’re talking to you, no?”

“You’re so full of shit, just admit it.” You laughed.

Richie suddenly stood up from the water hands held out, “you don’t know everything, y/n! And look at you now, looking at me in all of god’s given glory!”

You kept your eyes fully on this man’s face, “I’m looking at you because you’re talkin’ to me, it’s called respect!” You paraphrased.

Richie slammed his hands down into the water, “Jesus Christ! Don’t give me no lip tonight.”

“Put some clothes on!”

“Give me a minute, sweetheart! I’m tryna brace myself here.”

You snickered as the wind picked up hearing Richie let out a string of curse words, followed by the sloshing of water. He then ran towards the opposite chair by the firepit and snatched up a blanket to wrap around himself before he plopped down.

After a moment he said, “I’ve been thinking a lot lately.”

“Mmm, must have been hard.”

Richie sent you a look while you bite back a laugh, waving your hand for him to continue.

“About a lot: Mikey, the business, fucken baby new year—

“Carmy?”

“Obviously,” Richie hissed, “this isn’t about him though.”

“Then get on with it.”

“Stop rushing me! I’m trying to have a heart to heart with you here!”

Did you want to have a heart to heart right now? That you were unsure of.

“…do you ever wonder if you’d survive a horror movie?” He suddenly asked after a brief silence filled by the crackling of fire and crickets.

Tilting your head to the side you sat up, hands clenching the arm rests beside you, “you plotting something? If you are, I might have to head inside for a little bit.”

Richie scoffed, “calm your pretty face, babe. I’m not here to do you anymore harm, okay? I’m talkin’…what’s the word? Metaphorically. Life is the horror story, get me?”

Sitting back you hummed. Whenever richie got high he got to talking about the what if’s and it’s always been that way since you’ve known him. However you could tell from your spot across from him that this conversation meant more to him.

“Some of us do,” you started, “I want to. So yes I’ve thought about it, back when I lost my mom and when we lost Mikey. Life gains more meaning when you lose someone important and have to continue on without them.”

“Exactly!” Richie agreed, “it’s kinda ironic. You got to experience lost before you really step back and look at life and live it. The pandemic kinda started that for me, not being able to see my daughter even when fucken Juliana caught that shit—

He stopped himself clearing his throat. He felt anger talking about the woman he once called his wife but sadness when he thought about his constant absence in his daughter’s life. He didn’t want to be a repeat of his own father and yet here he was…

“I had to do things I never thought of doing,” richie spoke, you knew he and Mikey had to deal to keep the original beef afloat. You got it out of Mikey since Richie was so stubborn and sure of himself. They both said they didn’t want to get you involved and you weren’t, you just knew about it. You were their friends so it was only right that you knew about their struggles too? However that didn’t work out too well with Mikey, you bitterly thought.

Richie sniffed as he looked at you, “and it makes you look at things differently. It’s been two years since then and I just—get worked up because I really do care…although I can be dismissive.”

“What are you saying, Richie?”

“Life shouldn’t be this lonely. It’s horrifying, y/n.”

Deeply inhaling and exhaling you took a moment. Did this feel the same as it’s always been? You and Richie were on and off for years now, that came to a halt the minute he married Juliana. He came to your college graduation with her (and Mikey of course!) and that’s when you found out she was pregnant. There was distance with you away in Atlanta but that didn’t mean you didn’t have your fun either. You convinced yourself that you did not need to be hung up over no man and you believed that for awhile.

When you decided to come back to Chicago you had one serious boyfriend, moving on and becoming closer with Mikey during this time. Richie was a new time dad and had to balance life at home with the growing restaurant. It seemed as if the life was slowly draining out of him and you felt for Richie. How couldn’t you? Once upon a time you loved him so deeply. Things were different and you knew it had to do with his poor communication with Juliana, you wondered if she ever found out that Richie drunkenly showed up to your apartment telling you that he wasn’t in love with her and felt stuck. Then there was a baby in the mix.

“He should of thought of that before he put a baby in her, that’s his own problem, y/n. Not yours, just focus on your own relationship. Rich will figure it out.” Mikey often told you at your breakfast meetings.

You missed those breakfast meetings. You only became a breakfast person because of Michael Berzatto…on the other hand? You’d stay right in bed, which is what you were back to doing.

Losing Michael completely shifted the routine.

“I want us to be able to talk again. Really talk again instead of the bickering, disappearing on each other and screwing—even if that’s a pretty awesome time.” He smirked at you while you rolled your eyes, a small smile playing on your lips.

“Aw, you want to be my friend again, richie?”

Richie huffed, “I was always your friend even when I couldn’t stand your ass.”

“So the first day we met?”

“Eh, don’t know if I’d go that far. Maybe a little after.” He answered, “anybody that’s a friend of Mikey’s is usually a friend of mine. Guy’s got solid judgment—better than I ever had!”

You wondered what he was hinting at but didn’t push it.

“What do you think he’d tell us to do if he was here with us?” You leaned your cheek into your palm.

Richie snorted, “tell us to kiss and make up already.”

“I’m not kissing you.”

“Why not? Friends kiss! Italians love giving kisses!”

Smacking your lips you stated, “Richard, you’re Serbian.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Richie fanned his hand, “so can we hug it out then?”

“As friends? Sure, since you went out of your way to invite me to this place for the weekend.”

Richie nodded, “yeah even got us separate rooms and everything. Some love—as friends would be nice.”

“The bare minimum.” You mumbled, “…I’m not ready to move yet so can we get a rain check on that?”

Richie stared at you with those bright eyes almost demanding, “come here.”

You didn’t move right away because you didn’t take orders from nobody. You liked to push Richie’s buttons so you sat there, taking your sweet time before you found yourself lounging on his lap. It was too comfortable to be back in this position, arms wrapped around Richie’s neck with his nose buried against your shoulder. He could still smell your signature scent of almond oil, Shea, and hyacinth covered by your own blanket…just like he remembered and missed.

When you pulled back you ran your fingers over his low-cut hair, missing when it was longer and curly. Richie watched your movements before your eyes met his, damn, you sure did want to kiss him but it wouldn’t be the best idea.

There was still so much that needed to be figured out and you just claimed friendship again. Holding your breath as Richie shifted, he gripped your neck and quickly placed a peck right by the corner of your lips.

“Love ya! You’re driving me wild, friend.”

Oh so this was going to be a thing now.

You leaned back against him, head resting beside his as you enjoyed the fire together. You just knew one of you would break and although it wasn’t full on the lips, it was just as nice. Closing your eyes you melted into Richie’s touch, the firm grip of his hand on your thigh was comforting.

Whatever the both of you were feeling, leaning against each other was needed.

You sat up, “you’re still naked aren’t you?”

“Yeah, so what?” Amusement was in Richie’s eyes.

“I can’t sit like this.”

“Ah, please. It was never a problem before.” Richie blew a raspberry while you punched at his shoulder, making him wince.

“Ew, friend.” You hoped up, making richie frown.

“What do you mean, Ew? Is anybody real friends if they’ve never seen each other naked before?!”

“…this is different.”

“Yeah, sure. Y/n, don’t be shy now.”

“Shut up.”

“No, you shut up.”

“I’m going inside.”

“So am I!” Richie hopped up.

The both of you raced each other to get inside where the real warm and homey feeling existed. Plopping down on the couch, Richie left and reappeared with one of his velour tracksuits before he sat down beside you. He rolled his head over to you, who now yawned flipping through a gossip filled celebrity magazine.

Bumping his shoulder with yours, you raised your brows before you took your eyes off Bennifer sharing a kiss in Los Angeles.

“What?”

“Sorry, friend.”

Before your brows could furrow, Richie tugged you by the neck so your lips could meet.

And you completely melted.

‘Fucking Richie,’ you thought just as you imagined Mikey saying the exact same if he was witnessing this right now.

ೃ༄ *ೃ༄ *ೃ༄ *ೃ༄ *ೃ༄ *ೃ༄ *ೃ༄ *ೃ༄

Continue along with my fall anthology prompts here & summer prompts here.

[let-them-read-fics]

Too Late To Apologize?

Requested By @rosiesandlilies​: “I was wondering if I can request a Rosé x female reader story where Rosie is an idol who also happens to be ur wife and since she and BP are taking over the world by storm, she starts to forget about you and whenever u ask her to spend a little bit of time with you, she gets upset and fights with you. You’re also an important person but you always make time for her. Can it be angsty with fluff 🥰”

Pairing: Rosé x Fem!Reader

Word Count: ~ 6,026

Warnings / Misc: -- Angst, Self Doubt, Strained Marriage / Relationship, Crying, Some Swearing, Fluff

Disclaimer: This writing is a work of fiction, and no disrespect is meant for those mentioned herein.

A/N: Oooooo lord, here we go. I am feeding 👏 you 👏 all 👏 today! This one took a while to write, but I’m pretty happy with it. I wrote it all in one go, starting at like 3am (as usual lol), so forgive me if it’s a little rough. I put a lot of effort into it, though, so I hope you guys enjoy. Thank you for requesting -- Happy reading!

PS ~ I highly recommend that you listen to these songs as you read this:

You Were Good To Me -- Jeremy Zucker & Chelsea Cutler

Surrender -- Natalie Taylor

The Night We Met -- Lord Huron

I Found -- Amber Run

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

Hongdae, Seoul  --  8:00 PM

“Good evening, everyone! Before I open the doors, I’d like to thank each and every one of you for taking the time out of your day to stop in. We couldn’t have done this without your support, and we’re endlessly grateful. We hope you have a wonderful experience with us tonight. Now, without further ado, welcome to La Rêverie!”

To your amusement, the sizable crowd erupts into a fit of cheers once your opening speech is over. Echoes of the joyous sounds carry across the city, wiggling their way through the alleys and streets, bouncing off of the nearby buildings. The customers slowly filter in, greeting and congratulating you on their way; you’re beyond excited to start this new journey, and seeing people so happy to be a part of it only makes you more proud.

Eventually everyone makes it inside to their seats, and you join them.

--- Later That Evening ---

“Y/N, we have a private party that would like to see you. They’re eager to meet the woman behind all of this,” Pierre smirks, quirking an eyebrow suggestively. His demeanor confuses you slightly, seeing as how this isn’t the first time high profile celebrities have requested your presence -- that’s just one of the perks of being a world renowned chef. You brush off his remark as playful banter and send him to tell them that you’ll be out soon. 

---

“...yes, actually. Y/N and I were fortunate enough to meet when she was studying in Paris; we were being trained by the same chef. We’ve been close ever since. I’m not surprised that she hired me, though; I’m practically a master in the kitchen.”

At Pierre’s cocky words, your eyes nearly roll into the back of your head. A small grin plays on your lips nonetheless, and you smooth out your top one more time before rounding the corner. 

“What’s this idiot on about now? Did he tell you about the time that he nearly got kicked out of our mentorship program for giving Anthony Bourdain the wrong dish?” You ask the table, sending them a glance while ruffling his hair as you come up behind him. They all snicker at that, and it’s his turn to roll his eyes; with an annoyed shove, he scolds you for bringing that story up again.

“Must you always tell people about that?”

Your smile widens, spreading cutely across your face. Mocking him is one of your favorite things to do. “Mhm,” you say simply, nodding your head for emphasis. He attempts to hide his embarrassment, but it only brings a deeper blush to his cheeks. 

At the VIP table, the suppressed sound of laughter carries over to you, and you’re reminded of your reason for being here in the first place. Upon offering your full attention to the table now, no longer distracted by Pierre, you’re met with 4 different pairs of eyes on you. Warm, yellow light illuminates the area, the classy overhead fixture emitting a soft glow to cast down on the guests beautifully. It’s cozy and inviting, just like you had intended it to be, and the sight makes you happy.

As you quickly scan over each of the girls, your brain pieces together where you know them from.

“My oh my, it’s Blackpink themselves. To what do I owe this honor?” All of the natural charisma that you possess takes over now, doing its best to override your nerves. It’s definitely not the time to fangirl over them; you have to act cool. One by one, you shake their hands, making sure to give each of them a glimpse of your award winning smile. 

Jennie is the first to speak up. “Yourself, of course. You’re the talk of the town, Y/N, how could we miss this?” The way that she says it so casually, already skipping past the formalities, puts you at ease. 

“Ah, you’re too kind. Was your food prepared to your liking?”

A chorus of approving noises leaves the table, successfully boosting your confidence in the process. “It was truly incredible, Y/N.” Rosé gushes, her adorable accent adding something magical to the simple phrase. For the first time tonight, your mind goes blank; ever since news broke of your plans for this new restaurant, you practiced to avoid this very thing. As you stand there floundering for a beat, she takes notice of the effect that her words have on you; it doesn’t take long for her to realize how much she loves to make you blush.

“Thank you so much. We’re so glad to have you here tonight.” 

“We’re happy to be here! Rosé hasn’t stopped talking about it for the past week.” The Australian’s eyes go wide as Lisa exposes her, and she shoots the younger girl a shocked look. Lisa only smirks at this, her shoulders rising and falling in a nonchalant shrug. Jisoo nods in confirmation, adding, “Yeah, she’s been super pumped.”

On the inside, you’re freaking out. Rosé was that excited to try out your creations? There’s no logical explanation for that one. Your own surprise is evident in your voice as you respond, “Oh really now? And why’s that?”

“I-I’ve just heard a lot of great things, you know? You’re pretty talented.” She tries to sound confident, but the stutter in her voice betrays her. The tips of her ears are burning with embarrassment, and after sending her yet another smile, you decide to spare her by changing the topic. 

“Well thank you, again. It’s truly a privilege to cook for you girls.” The conversation continues from there, effortlessly moving from subject to subject, and you love how welcome they make you feel. Occasionally you excuse yourself to check on the other guests and ensure that they’re enjoying their dinner, and every time, Rosé finds herself sorely missing your presence. Despite only officially meeting tonight, she feels like she’s known you her whole life. The two of you clicked instantly, and she can’t seem to get enough of you.

After spending the better part of 2 hours chatting and getting to know one another better, you grow bold and ask the question that’s been rolling around in your head all night. 

“Would you guys like to come back to the kitchen for a bit? I could give you some tips and we could make a couple dishes, if you want.”

Rosé nearly interrupts you from how eager she is to accept the offer. The second that you’re done asking, she’s already saying yes. The others happily agree as well, and soon you’re leading them to the back to get prepped.

_________

“Just like this, everyone. Cut thinly here,” you inform, using your knife to point to the areas in question, “...then turn it and follow through with the slices. It should come out diced, like so.” The girls observed your swift motions, peeking over at the small cubes once you’re finished. Things continue on like this for a while, and soon you’re halfway done with the veggies while they’re barely done with the first part of their batches.

“Slow down, Y/N! You’re too fast for us grandmas.” Jisoo jests, her voice bouncy with amusement. 

“Okay, okay! I’ll wait, just let me know if you need help.” Your knife comes to rest against the cutting board, and you take the opportunity to lean back against the countertop to watch them work. Your eyes trail over to Rosé, only to find her already looking at you; she tenses once she realizes she’s been caught, and she returns to her previous duties. You decide to tease her.

“Everything alright, Rosé? You seem a little distracted…” She momentarily shuts her eyes at your words, trying to refocus her thoughts and collect herself. A subtle snicker from Lisa can be heard, and Rosé delivers a quick jab to her arm. The maknae lets out a little “oww” before setting her things down to rub away the newfound soreness of her arm. 

A little later, Jennie requests some assistance, prompting you to make your way over to her. The station that she’s working at just so happens to be next to Rosé’s, and you’d be lying if you said that didn’t thrill you. 

“Do we peel this first or leave it on?” 

“Cut the ends first, then slice it in half and remove the outer layer.”

Under your watchful eye, she follows your instructions and is soon back on track. She thanks you, and you bring your hand up to give her a pat on the back. Although she feels childish for it, the action works to make Rosé the tiniest bit jealous; she wants your attention on her. 

The blonde clears her throat before speaking up. “Y/N, I need a little help, too.” Your heart jumps at her words, and you fight hard to keep yourself in check as you spin around to face her.

“Of course, Rosé.” She sighs at the way her name rolls off your tongue, and she’s completely convinced that you’ve secretly put her under some type of spell. Her thoughts of you and your mysterious ways are interrupted when you come to stand next to her, your hip lightly brushing against hers. 

“Oh, well there’s your problem: you’re holding the knife wrong. Here,” you start, reaching out to reposition her hand in a better spot. Now she’ll be able to control it better, and she won’t run the risk of cutting herself.

“Better?” You ask innocently, missing the way that she bites her lip. The close proximity of your bodies is making her head spin, and she can’t decide if she wants you to stay or go. “Yes, thank you.” She looks like she wants to say something else, but she doesn’t, so you take that as your cue to go check on the other girls. Rosé silently curses herself for missing that golden opportunity to flirt with you, but she takes solace in the fact that she catches you stealing glances her way fairly often. You feel the connection too, and she’s pleased with that -- maybe she was doing something right after all.

The next stint of the night is spent preparing and cooking the dishes you promised them while trading jokes, banter, and teasing remarks. A mini food fight also took place, but for the sake of professionalism you won’t mention that. You couldn’t have asked for a more perfect day.

---- 

“Goodnight girls. I hope you come by again sometime soon!” 

They all assure you that they’ll be back before you know it, and you believe them. After all, they gobbled those dishes down like they hadn’t eaten in days -- it’s safe to say that they enjoyed them.

Rosé lingers in the doorway, eyeing you as you work to clean off the counter. She doesn’t want to go; she’s loved getting to hang out with you. Contemplating her options, she decides to be brave; she tells the girls to go on ahead, that she’ll be there in a minute. 

“Rosé, did you forget something?” You ask, looking up at her as you reach forward to wipe any remaining debris off the sleek surface.

“Yeah, your number.” Somehow, she possesses all the confidence in the world now, her new demeanor completely opposite to its previously shy counterpart. 

You tilt your head at her, a dumbfounded smile parting your lips ever so slightly. “Bold, are we? Alright, I’ll bite.” You say, holding a hand out for her to give you her phone. Her eyes widen a bit -- was she not expecting you to say yes? There’s no way you could turn down a chance like this. She fumbles around in her bag until the smooth screen of her phone comes into contact with her fingers, letting her know she’s found it.

“Here you go,” she chuckles cutely, an adorable little pattern of blush rising to her cheeks again. 

After entering your number, making sure to save the contact and even take a goofy picture of yourself for it, you give it back to her. “Call me anytime, love.” Her smile spreads even farther at the pet name, and she ducks her head to hide her reddening cheeks.

As she slowly approaches the door, walking backwards, she says, “I will… love,” offering you a little awkward salute at the end of it. You giggle at her antics, and soon bid her goodnight. 

No more than 5 minutes later, your phone dings as it displays a notification from an unknown number. 

“I’m usually not that awkward 🤦‍♀️ pretty girls just make me nervous.” The message makes your heart flutter, and you quickly save her number to your contacts. 

“Really? We have yet another thing in common, then.” 

The girls watch as Rosé does a little victory dance in her seat, her movements a bit limited by the belt stretched across her body. She’s practically glowing with excitement, her fingers already firing off another reply.

________

3 Years Later -- Rome, Italy

Upon seeing Rosé saunter down the aisle, your emotions get the jump on you; before you can stop them, tears flow freely down your face, and you bring a hand up to your mouth to quiet yourself. She looks bruisingly beautiful: the natural curves of her body are accentuated by the silky material of her dress, and her shoulders are covered in lace. An angel cast down from the heavens above. 

She smiles at the audience that’s filled with your close friends and family, offering little greetings as she passes them. Once she and her father make it to the altar, he pulls you in for a big hug, a few tears escaping his eyes. After he takes a step back, he looks between the two of you with pure pride on his face, his hand resting on your shoulder. 

The song ends, signalling for the two of you to join hands and face each other, and he returns to his seat. 

“We’re gathered here today to celebrate the joyous union of Y/N L/N and Roseanne Park. Two souls destined to find their way to one another, travelling millions of miles in the process. We come together to revel in this fact and send them into their new life together with all of our support.” The officiator says into the microphone, smiling at the two of you. You can tell he loves his job, and he’s damn good at it. 

Rosé’s grip on your hand tightens as she tries to contain her tears, but you’re quick to assure her that it’s alright. “You can cry, baby.” At your words, her lip is released from between her teeth, and her tears begin to flow. You wipe them away, stepping closer to rest your forehead against hers. 

The ceremony continues on and the two of you recite the personal vows you wrote. Somehow, unbeknownst to you, there doesn’t seem to be a limit to how much you can cry in one sitting. Rosé is having the same problem, seeing as how her makeup is smudging some as the tears wash the substances away. You don’t care though, and you make it a point to remind her of that; she’s never looked more beautiful to you.

“I do.” You choke out, beaming at her as you run your thumb across her knuckles.

“I do.” She responds, impatiently bouncing on the balls of her feet as she waits for those final words from the officiator. 

“You may now kiss the bride.” 

Her lips are on yours before he even finishes the phrase, her hand resting on the back of your neck as she pulls you in closer. Your lips move with hers in perfect time, working to seal your union in the best way possible. “I love you, forever,” she whispers against your lips. 

____

Present Day, 1:17 AM

In order to spare you from the overwhelming sadness that you’re being subjected to now, your brain takes you back to those happy times from the past. When Rosé still made time for you; when she loved you. 

Even though you hate it, you still find her in everything. The bright sunshine of the early morning reminds you of all the times she would wake you up with kisses, holding you close. The songbirds outside of your window bring to mind when you’d come home to find her at the piano, alternating between striking the keys and strumming her guitar as her beautiful voice carried out across the house. 

You miss that Rosé, so, so much. The Rosé that would call you in between sessions at the studio, if only for 5 minutes. The Rosé that longed to hear your voice after a long day; who fell into your arms the second that she shuffled through the door after practice. 

As time has passed, though, she’s seemed to fade more and more from your life; missed calls and texts have become a given, and it takes everything in you to mask your sorrow. Anyone who knows you well at all can easily see through the facade: you’re now a shell of who you once were, your normally vibrant and cheery self gone. You attempt to hide your sadness behind a smile, but it never really works out; your eyes don’t shine like they used to, and your lips don’t quite tweak up at the corners in the special way they had before. 

But you’re getting ahead of yourself again. Your reason for crying tonight is simple: for the hundredth time this month, she’s cancelled your date night plans, opting to spend the time working instead. The argument that the two of you had earlier replays in your mind:

"I don't have a choice."

Except, she did. She could choose you, choose to take a break, if only for the evening. You never ask too much of her, knowing that she can't handle even more stress competing with what she already has from the company and media. Being an idol is hard enough, and you know you can never fully wrap your head around everything that's expected of her.

Though, that makes this all the more ridiculous. All you've asked for is a couple hours of her time -- for her to relax with you and get away from it all. Earlier that day you had gone to the store and picked up all the necessary materials to treat her to a little spa day, complete with bath and body oils, face masks, and even some bath bombs. 

"Asking my wife to spend an evening with me is not unreasonable, Rosé."

"I'm not having this argument again, Y/N. I get enough shit from everyone else; I don't need any extra from you."

Maybe it was something in how she said it, so final and hateful, her face coming to rest in a scowl. Her arms were crossed as she stood in front of you, and you could see the muscles in her jaw clench and release repeatedly. In some twisted way, part of you was glad to have this encounter; it hurt like hell, but at least she was paying attention to you. She hadn't looked at you for this long in a while.

Before you can even get another word out, she sighs, saying, "I don't have time for this. I have to go back to the studio." 

Just as she turns to go, you catch her wrist. With a slightly annoyed look, she turns to face you.

"If you walk out that door then I'm leaving; at least for the night. We need to talk about this, but if you don't care enough to even give me that, then…" you trail off, tilting your head slightly. You want her to apologize, to say how wrong she's been for doing all of this to you -- but she doesn't. Her expression is tired, irritation written plainly for you to see. She pulls her arm away, offering a petty, "Oh well," with a shrug before exiting the house. 

How could she be so cold? Maybe that's what hurt the most. Seeing the love of your life turn into someone completely different than who you fell for stung more than any argument ever could. The reality is that she's not the same person anymore. Accepting that would be half of the battle in and of itself. 

Your heart is betraying itself, stuck in a sticky situation: you're constantly struggling between your love for her and the respect you hold for yourself. Half of you wants to stay, to make her listen and fight for this; but the other half of you, perhaps the more rational side, knows that that won't work now. You've tried that already, you reason with yourself, racking your brain for any new way to get through to her. 

Sometimes it's like she forgets all of the sacrifices you make for the relationship. Despite having your own busy schedule to deal with, you always make time for her. So why could she never do the same for you?

It's obvious that in its current state, this relationship is only wrecking your mental health -- a testament to that is every night you've spent lying awake, sobbing into your pillow as your list of insecurities grows longer and longer. She used to be the person you'd run to when negative thoughts plagued your mind, her sweet words of love showing how much she valued you. But all of that's gone now, leaving you with a shattered heart and racing mind. When had you stopped being enough?

~~~~~~~

It’s late, well past 4AM when Rosé manages to make it home. Practice absolutely wrecked her today, leaving her body exhausted from dancing and throat sore from all the singing she had to do. She’s more than ready to collapse into bed and pass out. 

One thing that always stayed the same was your sleeping arrangement. No matter how much Rosé hurt you, you still slept in the same bed. Her subconscious was always kinder to you than she was, anyway; the two of you would cuddle in close like before, her arms wrapped around you as she slept peacefully. No arguments or yelling, you could always count on the nights to heal your heart a little bit. 

As she enters the empty bedroom, the memory of your argument from earlier that day comes flooding back. She remembers that you said you were leaving, but part of her didn't fully believe you. She should've known better -- you always keep your word. Guilt washes over her, and she gently taps her head against the wall as a sort of self-punishment for her previous actions. Why did she say that to you? The hurt look in your eyes broke her heart, but she couldn’t afford to skip practice, especially with the comeback quickly approaching. In retrospect, she should’ve just told you that she didn’t feel prepared, and that’s why this practice had been so important. Even though she doesn’t show it, you still mean the world to her. She just so happens to be her own worst enemy. 

With a heavy sigh, she makes her way to the bathroom; there she finds a cute little basket of goodies next to the tub, and a note on the counter of the sink. She approaches the basket first, quickly discovering that it holds some of her favorite self-care items from the local store. Yet again, a deep pang of guilt courses through her upon realizing that you had prepared that for her. Defeated, she picks up the note. 

Roseanne,

If you’re reading this, then I’ve already left. I don’t want you to worry, if you even still care enough to do that, so I decided to leave this letter for you. I’ll be staying with my friend for the next while. I don’t know how long, but that depends entirely on you. I’ve tried to communicate with you, but we’re getting nowhere; we both know it. We’re not who we used to be, Rosé, and I hate that. I want us to be happy again, but it seems that I can’t do that for you. If you want to end things, let me know. 

- Y/N

Rosé’s heart is breaking, splintering into a million different pieces and leaving her with no possible way to collect them all. How had she so royally fucked this up? She only has herself to blame, and she knows that; she can’t believe that she let things get like this. She had been so blinded by the stress that she lost sight of the most important thing in her life: you. It’s slowly sinking in that she very well might lose you for good this time, and she doesn’t know how to cope with that. She can survive without her career, but she knows she can’t go on without you.

-----  La Rêverie, 2 Weeks Later -----

She only intended to walk by -- to see if you were there and safe. But as she gazes through the windows, peeking into the place that houses so many of her dearest memories, she’s transfixed. Her eyes land on you, finding you hard at work in the kitchen. It’s always been where you go when you’re stressed or upset about something -- two things that Rosé knows she’s the cause of.

You’re in your element, face donning a look of pure concentration as you prepare what she assumes is a new dish. Your hair’s in a bun, a few strands coming down to fall around your face as you move about. Gravity takes its time in gently coaxing them out of the tie's hold, and Rosé’s breath hitches at how beautiful you look; it’s as if she’s falling for you all over again. She’s always admired your skills, but they hold a whole new meaning now, an unspoken tension in every movement you make. 

How had she been so selfish? You had been there for her all along, waiting patiently for the day that she would come to her senses. You would always have dinner ready -- usually one of her favorites, hoping that would spark something again -- but she always brushed you off. She never stayed long enough to see the crushed look on your face, or how the pain was becoming clearer and clearer by the day. She realizes now just how much of a toll her actions have taken on the both of you; you're still just as breathtaking as ever to her, but that special sparkle in your eye has long been eclipsed by something more dull. You're tired of being let down repeatedly, stuck in a constant loop of excuses and avoidance, and Rosé can't blame you for a second.  

The time apart hasn't been kind to her at all; there hasn't been a single day that's gone by where you haven't consumed her thoughts. She misses you so badly it hurts, and even now, despite being so close to you, separated only by the walls of the restaurant, you've never been further away. 

The distant sound of a car alarm cuts through the silence, simultaneously scaring her and drawing your attention. Before you can spot her, she ducks down; there’s no way that she can face you yet. Taking this as a sign, she decides to leave.

She’s spent the past 2 weeks attempting to spare you by not coming around; she thinks you need time away from her to deal with everything she’s put you through, and she doesn’t want to upset you anymore than she already has. Ever-torn, part of you is glad that she’s stayed away; however, another part of you just wants to see her again. You miss the nights more than you thought you would. 

--- A Few Days Later ---

Steady sheets of rain pound harshly against the window, vibrating the latches with each gust of wind. Times like these are always the worst, especially when you don’t have Rosé to calm you down. Violent thunderstorms never fail to frighten you, and this one in particular seems like it’ll be the worst one of the season. Swiftly padding over to the window, you sneak a quick peek outside, only to find the branches of the large oak tree that occupies the yard swaying in the wind with reckless abandon. The sight terrifies you, but you do your best to keep yourself from panicking, even having to do some breathing exercises. Your friend can sleep through anything, and you know she needs the rest; so, you stay in the spare bedroom that she’s so graciously allowing you to reside in, and lie awake. 

Across the city, Rosé is tossing and turning. The storm hasn’t fully reached its peak there yet, but she knows how worried you must be. Tears spring to her eyes at the thought of you huddled up under the covers, body trembling in fear as the storm rages on. The deep-rooted shame that she’s grown so accustomed to since you left plagues her conscience, making her even more disgusted with herself. 

After turning over yet again, her eyes land on the picture she has of the two of you propped up on the nightstand. It was taken on your wedding day, that stunning view of the venue paling in comparison to your beauty. A sense of determination washes over her -- determination to make you that happy again someday, in whatever way she can -- and she gets out of bed to collect a few materials. She’ll do whatever it takes.

----

The sound of a car door slamming perks your ears up, and your curiosity gets the better of you. Quickly pulling the curtain back, you’re beyond shocked to see Rosé out there, holding something in her hand. Just as you lean in closer to the window to try and see what it is, her caller ID pops up on your phone. 

“Come downstairs, please.” 

Even with the vast array of emotions coursing through you at the moment, you’re only focused on getting her inside and out of harm’s way. 

You nearly knock the door off its hinges with how quickly you snap it open. To your surprise, she’s still standing by her car, but now you can see what she was holding before; a white sign with black writing on it. The words are barely legible with how much it's raining, the dye of the marker horribly smudged, but you can make out: “I’m sorry! I’m an idiot.” It’s like something out of romantic drama.

Before you can even comment on everything that’s happening, Rosé begins the speech that she’s been trying to piece together ever since you left. 

She has to raise her voice so you can hear her over the storm. You wonder why she doesn’t just come in, but you think that maybe she’s doing it to show you that she’s willing to punish herself by standing out in the elements. “No words that I say will ever be able to fix the pain that my actions caused. You don’t deserve any of the shit I put you through, and I hate myself for being such a coward. I was too immature to look past my own struggles and just talk to you about them.” 

Now, she takes a few cautious steps towards the front door, testing the waters as she scans your face to gauge how you’re feeling. “I guess I just thought I could deal with it like I always do. But losing you showed me how wrong I was; I love you so much, Y/N. I don’t want to end things; I’ll never want that. You’re my world, baby; I’m so sorry that it took me this long to see what was right in front of me.” 

How are you to respond to that? Can you trust her? She looks more sincere in this moment than she has in a long time, and that puts you a little more at ease. Her eyes are begging -- pleading -- with you to believe her, and after a moment you step to the side, wordlessly telling her to come in. You don’t even realize that you’re crying until a few stray tears drip onto your shirt, leaving little marks in their wake. She has to restrain herself from reaching out and wiping them away; she has no idea when -- or if -- you’ll be able to forgive her. 

Soft pitter-patter of the water running off of her coat echoes lightly across the foyer, serving as white noise for the conversation you’re having. Her sniffles work in tandem with it, and she bites back her sobs in order to get the words out. 

“I know this won’t be fixed overnight, but I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you, if you’ll let me. I won’t blame you for a second if you can’t forgive me, either. I just couldn’t let you get away without a fight.”

With each new fresh batch of tears that settle in your eyes, you have to work twice as hard to blink them away. “I-I don’t know what to say, Rose. You’re the only person in this world capable of hurting me that badly, because you mean more to me than anyone else. But I never thought you’d treat me like that. Do you know how many times I doubted myself, thinking I did something wrong?” Your tone is bitter now, voice conveying the pain from those months of anguish that you had to endure, and Rosé hangs her head. 

“I know that now, Y/N, and I know that I can never take it back. But God, how I wish I could. I’d do anything in my power to take that pain away. It was never your fault; none of it was.”

You know she’s being honest. After seeing the opposite for so long, it’s easy to spot when she’s telling the truth. You nod a couple times, deciding to pull her in for a long-overdue hug. She’s motionless at first, not quite knowing if you want her to return it or not, but the second that you quietly say, “Hold me, Rosé,” she’s scooping you up in her arms like her life depends on it. Her head rests in the crook of your neck, and the two of you cry together, letting all of the pent up frustration and sadness leave your bodies. 

After standing there, embracing one another for who knows how long, she pulls away just enough to look into your eyes. Her gaze subtly falls to your lips, but you don’t fail to notice. “Can I?” She asks gently, raising her eyes back up to yours. “Yes.” You utter, nearly swooning as her soft lips brush against your own. You’ve missed them. 

Her chilled hands cup your cheeks with purpose, and you can feel water running off the ends of her hair and onto your chest.

She kisses you in such a poetic way: softly, as if you might break at any moment, but urgently, like a lost soldier finally returning to the arms of their lover. She wants to make you feel how sorry she is, how much she loves you, and this seems like the perfect place to start.

“I love you, jerk,” you say through your tears, brushing your thumb along her cheek as you look into her eyes.

“And I love you, angel.” She picks you up, spinning you around a couple of times before setting you back down on your feet. 

After a moment, you glace at the window. “Shhhh, wait. Do you hear that?”

She cocks her head to the side as she listens closely for any potential noise that you might be talking about, but she hears nothing. “No? I don’t hear anything…” 

“Exactly; the rain stopped.”

“Huh. I guess it did its job, then.” She smiles, silently thanking the universe for working in its wonderful ways. It brought the two of you back to one another, and neither of you can contain your happiness. Maybe you don’t hate storms as much after all...

[itsdanii]

I'm in the middle of reading all ur works but I'm impatient because UR AMAZING LUV 😩✨ the transition from angst to fluff *chefs kiss* *salt bae's sprinkle* UGHHH sooo 👉🏻👈🏻 I'm just wondering if its possible to write a fan turned in to wife with bokuto and oikawa 🥺 ITS OKAY TO IGNORE THIS IF IT SEEMS COMPLICATED TO WRITE AJDHAKWPWODNDIE,, TAKE GOOD CARE OF YOURSELF LUV!!! 💗

Hey, bub. Thank you so much for reading and loving my works 🥺 HOW CAN I IGNORE SUCH GOOD REQUEST, HM?! It would be an honor to do it! I just hope I did it right and gave it justice though 😭 Anyway, here's your request, bub! I hope you like it. Have a good day, stay safe and stay hydrated! ♥️

Number 1 supporter

genre: fluff

warnings: manga spoilers, message me if i missed any

a/n: italicized paragraphs in bokuto's part are all flashbacks. read the warnings before you proceed. warnings have been put there for a reason.

ft. timeskip!oikawa tooru, timeskip!bokuto koutaro

curious on how to thank your number 1 fan? that's simple. just give them a ring, your family name, and you're all good to go.

Oikawa Tooru

You screamed on top of your lungs as your boyfriend, Oikawa Tooru, managed to get another perfectly landed spike.

People were roaring, drums were beating and the players were beyond exhausted but not once did their defense nor offense falter. Every spike, every block and every drop was worth the point. With their adrenaline putting them on top of their game, both teams played as if their life depended on it.

And in the end, Oikawa's team managed to secure their victory.

With a giant smile on his face, Oikawa searched the crowd as soon as their winning point was received, and despite the number of people shouting and cheering for his name, yours was only one he could hear perfectly.

There you were, in the middle of the crowd, wearing his spare jersey while holding a handmade poster of his perfectly written name.

The sight of you brought him a lot memories and he can't help but thank god for giving him the opportunity of meeting you, and at this moment, he knew that this was it.

This was the perfect time and there's no way he's going to let it pass.

After shaking each other's hand, Oikawa quickly made his way to the back of the gym. He took a quick shower, changed into some fresh clothes and with shaky hands, took the purple box he had in his bag.

He made his way back to the court where he was instantly crowded with the media. Flashes of lights surrounded him and several microphones were almost shoved at his face.

With a chuckle, Oikawa scratched the back of his head and tightened his grip on the box he was holding.

"Mr. Oikawa, you were amazing back there. You seemed almost unstoppable. What drived you to perform at the best of your game today?" one reporter asked.

Out of all the questions from the interviewers, that was the one that caught his attention. Turning to face the said reporter, he took the microphone which made the reporter blush immensely.

"Well, of course, I always do my best. I'm always the best," he said which earned a chuckle from the other reporters. "But since you're asking what drived me to be at my top performance, I'd say that it was probably this person-"

You squealed as Oikawa tugged at your hand, effectively pulling you out of the crowd and to his side. You blushed at the action and hid your face to his chest in embarrassment, his hand immediately rubbing circles on your back as he grinned.

"Sorry, guys. It seems like my dear y/n-chan is still quite camera shy."

You grunted against his chest and lightly hit his arm, a quiet mumble of "shut up," slipping past your lips.

"But seriously, out of everyone that cheered for me, this person right here-" Oikawa paused for a moment, his hand angling your face to look up at him before he continued, "-was the one whose cheers never failed to reach me, and since we're already here, I want to take the opportunity to ask them a very important question."

Murmurs filled the court as the star player went down on his knee and looked at you with a nervous smile. There, in front of you, was Oikawa Tooru holding a ring with hope in his eyes.

You felt your eyes tearing up and you instinctively brought a hand to your lips. "Tooru..." you whispered with a shaky voice.

"Y/n-chan, you've been my number one supporter since highschool. Don't you think it's about time you get promoted?" he said with a teasing voice, "I can still even remember the way you fainted when I accidentally aimed a ball towards the stand and hit your stomach. God, as rude as it may sound right now, I'll never regret and forget that day. I mean, how can I? Iwa-chan scolded me for the whole day and ordered me to apologize to your fan group," Oikawa added with a fond smile as if he was envisioning the situation inside his mind.

"You didn't leave when I was at my lowest point, but instead stayed beside me when almost everyone had their backs turned against me. You were there in every matches we won, in every matches we lost to, and in every milestone that I got. You accepted the challenges of being in a distance relationship with me despite the doubts, insecurities and countless possibilities surrounding us. Heck, you even followed me here in Argentina after you graduated." With his free hand, Oikawa wiped the tears now trailing down his cheek, his voice becoming shaky with every passing second. "You were always there and I don't know what I'd do if I never have met you. So now, I'm asking you, can you not only be my number one supporter but also my wife?"

You instantly nodded your head, your figure now trembling as you cried out of happiness. "Yes, yes," you answered repeatedly.

With a relieved sigh, Oikawa slipped the ring on your finger and stood up. He enveloped you in his arms, burrying his face to the side of your neck as he tightened his embrace. "Thank you. I love you so much, baby. I promise I'll be the best husband. I won't let you down," he murmured against your skin before pulling away to stare at your eyes. "I love you."

You leaned to his hand when he cupped your cheeks, eyes almost closing at the soothing feeling of his touch. "I love you, my Tooru."

Your lips slowly met each other's. Your arms encircling his neck while his arms snaked around your waist, pulling you closer to him.

And as the flashes of cameras captured this moment, Tooru thanked his lucky stars for bringing you to him.

Bokuto Koutaro

Bokuto heaved out a relieved sigh as he stepped inside your apartment. Making sure to close the door behind him, he carefully made his way to the bedroom where his face immediately lit up at the sight of you sleeping while wearing one his shirts.

He placed a gentle kiss on your forehead before heading to the shower since he didn't want to go to bed smelling like "sweat and rubber" as what you like call it.

With his head casted downwards, he allowed the water to drip down his body, a pleasant feeling enveloping him at the feel of the hot water relieving his tense muscles. Bokuto then noticed his wedding ring which he forgot to take off before he entered the shower. Well, it's not like he wanted to take it off in the first place anyway.

As he stared at the ring in his hand, he couldn't stop the fond smile from making its way to his face. Several scenarios started playing in his mind but the one he always loved getting back to was the day he first met you.

-

"Cheer up Bokuto-san," Konoha said as he gave Bokuto a pat on the back.

The team have been trying to cheer Bokuto up for almost half an hour now. The white haired male was currently seated in between two narrow walls, his hair casted downwards and a pout playing on his lips.  "I don't wanna," he mumbled childishly before looking away.

"What happened?" Akaashi, who was still panting, asked as soon as he entered the gym.

Konoha crossed his arms over his chest, giving a quick glance at Bokuto before shifting his gaze to Akaashi. "He's been like that since we started the second set of the practice match. He said that he can't spike anymore unless its you who's going to toss for him," Konoha answered with a frustrated groan. "We did everything we can. The rest is up to you."

Akaashi nodded in understanding before making his way to their captain. "Bokuto-san, let's go. Something came up so I was late but I'm here now. I'll toss for you so can you cheer up now?"

As Bokuto was about to answer, a sudden yell echoed throughout the whole gymnasium.

"Cheer up Bokuto senpai! You're the best captain and ace so please don't give up! You can do it!"

It was a feminine voice. A feminine voice yet loud enough for everyone to hear.

Bokuto looked at the bleachers and immediately spotted your figure. He can't help but grin at your determined look, you had a big smile on your face and a poster in your hand despite the game not being an official match.

Everyone was in awe as they watched their captain stood up, a sudden boost of confidence enveloping him as he puffed out his chest. "Hey, hey, hey!" he exclaimed with a booming voice, his hand pointing towards your direction before he flashed an almost award winning smile.

That was the first time they witnessed their captain cheering up because of someone that wasn't Akaashi.

From that day on, Bokuto would always scan the crowd and look for you, and not once have you ever failed in showing up.

It wasn't long then when the two of you finally talked, thanks to Akaashi's efforts. It was actually Akaashi who first invited you personally to watch one of their official matches.

Bokuto couldn't do it because despite his personality, he would always feel his panic rising at thought of inviting you himself. So, the solution? Whine continuously to Akaashi until he gives up and do it for him. Fortunately, it worked.

Everything went smooth sailing after that.

But even if your relationship with each other progressed, you still remained as his number 1 fan. You would still make posters and give him gifts everytime they win. In exchange, Bokuto would always do his best and give you the biggest hug as soon as each matches finish.

A few years forward, Bokuto became an official player of the MSBY black jackals. You were the first person he celebrated it with and the person who encouraged him to continue playing in order to achieve his dreams.

You became his anchor and his strength, the person he would run to whenever he was doubting himself and everytime he needed someone to hold him.

It was then during their victory party against the Adlers when Bokuto finally realized that you were really the one for him. As he watched you dance and laugh with his teammates, he got the feeling that he shouldn't let you go anymore.

You were it for him.

-

"I was looking for you," you said with a pout as you balanced yourself on your boyfriend's arm, your vision hazy and voice slurry due to the alcohol in your system.

Bokuto tightened his hold on your waist, his eyes scanning over your drunk figure as you basically clung to him like a baby. "Sorry, baby. I had to go buy something real quick, couldn't stop myself."

"Mhmm," you hummed, obviously not getting anything from what he said. "Carry me, please... Wanna go home."

Without any objections, Bokuto leaned down to scoop you in his arms and then placed a kiss on the tip of your nose before carrying you all the way to the car.

When you woke up, the smell of pancakes was the first thing you noticed. You stood up and padded your way to the kitchen where you saw Bokuto cooking with his back turned against you.

One of your eyebrows shot up as you heard him grumbling something inaudible. Silently, you sneaked your way to him and suddenly wrapped your arms around him from the back.

Bokuto jumped up in surprise before turning around. He quickly covered your eyes as he said in a panic voice, "Baby! Don't look at the pancake yet, okay? Go take a seat. I'm still not done."

"Hmm, you seem suspicious but alright," you answered with his hand still covering your eyes. You pouted your lips and smiled when you felt him giving you a short kiss before guiding you to the table.

Once he was finished, you rose an eyebrow at the nervous look on his face while holding the plate filled with pancakes. "You okay, baby?" you asked in concern.

Your boyfriend only nodded before carefully placing the stack in front of you.

A small flower was neatly placed on the side but what caught your attention was the message written out of chocolate syrup on top of the pancake.

MARRY ME?

"Kou?" you whispered before taking your eyes off your breakfast.

What you saw next was enough to bring tears to your eyes.

Because as soon as you looked at him, Bokuto went on his knee and opened a small box, revealing an expensive ring that you'll soon be wearing. "I'm sorry if I only wrote marry me on the pancake. It wasn't big enough to write the whole 'will you marry me?' and that's why I'm here, down on my knee, to ask you directly."

Despite your tears, you can't help but giggle at the rhyming in his words. "You got that idea from Akaashi, didn't you?"

Bokuto pouted before mumbling a small "Dont interrupt me."

Seeing you nod, he continued, "Baby, we've been together for several years now and yet we're still here - going strong without any intent of separating any time soon. You were the first person who was able to cheer me up without Akaashi's help and the only person who caught my attention by shouting during one of our matches." He chuckled shortly before proceeding, "You've always been there to support me. You're my number one fan, my number one supporter and the best girlfriend I could ever ask for. I know that sometimes I'm not easy to deal with but still, I'm going to take my chance. To my number one fan, will you marry me?"

Bokuto stared at you in anticipation, a bead of sweat rolling down the side of his head as he waited patiently for your answer. The moment he heard you saying yes, he immediately felt as if he was the luckiest man in the world.

Slipping the ring on your finger, he stood up and pressed his forehead against yours. "Thank you, thank you, baby. Love you so much," he said repeatedly as he showered your face with kisses.

-

"Kou, are you done yet?"

Your voice brought him out from his daydreaming. Scanning the area around him, Bokuto chuckled as he realized that he was still inside the shower.

He then turned the water off and dried himself before wrapping a towel around his waist.

"I'm sorry, baby. I just remembered something important," he said as he walked over to you, placing a kiss on your forehead and murmuring a low apology for taking too long.

"Wanna tell me about it?" you asked in a sleepy voice as you both settled yourself on the bed.

Bokuto wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you closer, his hand slipping inside your shirt to rub circles on the small strip of skin on your spine knowing how much it helps you fall asleep faster.

"I'll tell you next time about it, okay? Go back to sleep." Bokuto watched as your eyelids fluttered close, your breathing soon evening out and your lips parting slightly to allow small amounts of air in.

"You already know about it anyway, my number one fan," he whispered as he soon also closed his eyes, letting the sound of your breathing lull him to sleep.

masterlist | updates

a/n: likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated ♥️

[peachyteabuck]

i’m a money symbol

summary: when ransom finds out he’s been cut from the will, there’s a different reason he flies into a murderous rage 

pairing: ransom drysdale x reader

words: 1655

trigger warnings: degradation, findom/sub dynamics, sex work, 

notes: thank you to @helahades​ for talking to me about this concept when i was still debating writing it. ur an enabler but i love u very much

ask box / masterlist / commission info / ko-fi

Ransom stares at you with eyes that rival that of pleading puppies - large and watery and a deep, deep blue. His clean-shaved face, tear-stained and reddened from the sobs that still riddle his body, is equally as pathetic.

“I-I promise I-I can pay you s-”

You cut him off with the raise of a single sculpted eyebrow, looking down at him as he falls to his knees - body folded and hands clasped together like a fervent believer praying for forgiveness after committing some heinous sin, or a servant begging their superior to let them keep their lowly position. Either analogy seems fitting given the circumstances, given his lack of inheritance and the slowly declining numbers in his bank account.

“One thing,” you hiss, lifting one of your expensive Louboutin heels so that it presses into the base of his neck, forcing his body into an even more unnatural position. He groans just a little at the pain - ass (and much more of him, probably) still sore from last night’s session. You ignore him. “I ask for one thing. It’s not hard. In fact, it was the one thing you could do quite well. Any now, what, you have none?”

Ransom gulps, nearly out of breath. “I-I have money it’s just that I-, I’m cut off right now I sw-”

The pointed heel presses further, his legs spreading underneath him to make room as his nose nearly touches the recently cleaned red oak flooring.

“Shut the fuck up,” you hiss, practically spitting as you glare down at him. “Only good little boys who pay me to earn the right to speak to me are allowed to blubber like children.”

He whimpers as the sharp pain from your expensive shoe merges with the clumsy position of his limbs to settle in his blood – his whole body screaming like a banshee as his cock strains in his years-old designer skinny jeans.

“The worst part is,” you sigh, watching his muscles strain just as heat settles in your stomach. Slowly, but surely, it moves to your core. “I was looking forward to seeing you again. Can you imagine such a thing? Me, looking forward to seeing one of you stupid little pay pigs…”

A dry laugh fills the air that sense another wave of arousal through his nervous system, his muscles and brain screaming at him to get up and walk the Hell out of there while his cock pleads with him to stay in place.

“Now get naked,” you sigh, swishing the sweet cocktail in one of the glasses monogrammed with your initials you had gotten as a gift (again, not from Ransom) last year. “I know of a way you can be of use to me.”

Immediately he strips, your gaze heated and targeted as he peels that damned sweater he refuses to replace from his toned body. He sucks in a sharp breath as the air – cool despite the roaring fire – hits his bare skin, goosebumps erupting all over as he shivers under your heated gaze.

It’s amusing, to say the least, to watch his clothes hit the floor, kicked aside as if they were something worse than trash despite their designer tags. Money means nothing to Ransom Drysdale-Thrombey if it’s not being spent on you.

Without preamble, you kick him with a single heeled foot so that he’s knocked to his knees, hands strained at his sides as he desperately attempts to obey the rules that accompany punishments. As his eyes screw shut in pain, you take the few seconds to grab the worst thing you keep in the drawer of the small table next to your plush, deep purple velvet armchair. It’s the thing Ransom hates the most in this world – even more than his family or their stupid maid or being broke or even disappointing you.

Just as his eyes open, you lean down to lock his cock in the pink plastic cage with a wince-inducing click, depositing the key in the space between your chest and the baby pink fabric of your bralette. It’s simple, mostly sheer with embroidered flowers spanning over the length of each breast while barely concealing your hardened nipples. The matching panties show off your tummy and thighs – cutting you in just the right places so that you look even more heavenly than usual.

“Fu-uck,” he moans when he realizes what’s happened, what you’ve done to him. It’s almost cute in how pathetic it is, the sound he makes and the precum that gathers at the tip and how his stomach tightens with each breath. It’s cute how pathetic he is – how his face scrunches up and he bites his lips until they’re beautiful and plump. Ransom Drysdale-Thrombey may be a chauvinist asshole with an ego bigger than his trust fund (or, what he trust fund used to be), but damn can he be so pretty it hurts.

“Down,” is all you say, giving him a small hmm as he falls to all fours. His eyes remain focused on the ground as you haven’t given him permission to keep anything else in his eyeline. He doesn’t need to be told to keep his back straight, body barely flinching as you sit back down and plant your feet in the center of his spine, your authentic red bottoms a beautiful contrast to his milky skin.

“You like my shoes, baby?” you ask, rolling them back in forth against the ridges of his spine. “You got them for me when you had money—you weren’t as useless then…”

Ransom’s back is parallel to the plush white throw you’d placed on the ground for him, his palms, knees, and the front of his feet warming the fur as you rest your own feet in the center of his spine. He can’t see you as he faces your fireplace, doesn’t have the pleasure of watching you as you talk with other clients - other men with millions, maybe even billions more than him not only in their bank accounts, but in their futures. Your long acrylic nails, ones it pains him to think he didn’t pay for, taptaptap against your phone screen as messages are typed. Judging by the click he hears every so often (in combination with your shifting in your seat) Ransom assumes you’re also taking photos – but whether they’re of you to send to customers or of him to use as blackmail, he may never know.

It's painful in a plethora of ways – but the playboy can’t tell if the pit in his chest, the aching of his cock, or the sharp pain in his back hurts worse. None of these things improve with time, either, the hours marked by glasses of champagned downed and Venmo transfers made.

The only thing that makes it better is the familiar sound of your phone being locked and placed in the side table screen-down before your feet are planted back on the floor with two sharp clacks. Sounds that would normally make Ransom’s cock jump if not for the plastic that was locked around him.

“Get in position, you useless slut,” you hiss, your hand flying to this throat so you could squeeze a warning against his skin. “You’re going to pleasure me until I say you can stop.”

Ransom gulps, his eyes wide with fear and pupils blown from lust. He gulps, his Adam’s apple bobbing in a way that reminds you of when he deepthroats one of your many, many straps, and bows his head in submission. “Y-yes Mistress,” he moans deep, his eyes fluttering shut as the sheer memory of your dripping cunt floods his mind. It’s been so long – too long – since he’s been with you, been inside you; and he’s desperate as you push your panties to the side to reveal your soaked lips.

Ransom waits for your nod of approval before he launches himself forward, placing wet kisses wherever he can reach. You’re sensitive already, little gasps falling past your lips when he takes your clit between his teeth and sucks.

You don’t do a lot of sex work that involves service clients – it’s exhausting, to say the least, requires a lot of set up and take down and the like. For a long while you did no contact work, but it was a few clients – Ransom included – that convinced you to break into it.

And, fuck does he make all the work worth it. His fingers slide into you with confidence and expertise, finding that special spot inside of you with ease, groaning into your dripping cunt each time you cry out his name.

“Jesus, baby boy,” you cry out between guttural moans. “You’re so fucking good for your Mistress aren’t you?”

He nods, flatting his tongue as his face moves up and down and that-

That is what breaks you.

You come on his face as your thighs nearly choke him – his hands digging into the insides of your thighs. Ransom himself can’t tell if he’s trying to pull him apart – desperate for air as his whole body goes cold from lack of oxygen – or if his arms holding them in place so he has the honor to die while experiencing pure euphoria. As your pussy pulses on his tongue Ransom wonders if he’s already passed over, if Heaven is the space between your legs and why he’s been allowed there despite his many, many sins.

It doesn’t take long before his movements slow for a moment, causing you to groan in frustration before grabbing his previously-impeccably styled hair.

“Did I tell you to stop, slut?”

He gives you a small whine before shaking his head, eyes large and jaw soaked.

You smile at his obedience. “Then get down there and eat me out until I’m crying.”

Ransom smiles before moving his head back down, returning to his position below you.

God, you think. This really is the best job ever.

[robinofinashiro]

request from anonymous: “hewwwoooo my favourite fanfic writer! i love ur ficssss so much. they keep me sane during this quarantine. may i request for a cute fic with porco and reiner chasing after the same girl (the reader)” 

note: i’m done with finals! you guys can send anything you’d like now! but sjksjksjk, i’m your fave??? but i went with the AU bc that’s what ppl have been asking for so i’m just assuming. 

request status: fully open!

pairing: porco galliard, reiner braun x fem! reader

you sat with Marcel as the two of you tried to cram for the same exam you had coming up. you were a year underneath him but you were in the honors program at the university so you almost had the same classes as he did. 

“between this exam and the project for Bio, I think my brain is going to combust,” you murmured to Marcel. he chuckled before taking a sip of his coffee, “well that and considering I heard my brother on Facetime with you until three in the morning, that could also contribute to your fatigue,” your face fell warm at the comment. 

you chucked a scrap piece of paper at hime, making him dodge it. you saw Reiner walking towards the two of you. you waved him over, his face instantly lighting up. 

“hey Braun, I thought you said you were going to skip coming to campus today?” you asked. he shook his head, sitting down next to you, almost immediately wrapping his arm around you, “nah, figured that if I didn’t come today, I wouldn’t see you until next Monday,” he mentioned. 

you saw Marcel’s face drop in slight annoyance before shaking it off. you couldn’t help but wonder what made him do that but decided not to pay too much attention. 

“that’s very flattering,” you murmured shyly. “so, what’s a cutie like yourself doing this Saturday,” he asked, “oh! I have plans with Marcel and Porco. they want to check out this restaurant a few towns over and Porco offered for me to come along,” you said excitedly. 

Reiner rolled his eyes, not happy about your plans, “why? were you planning on doing something?” you asked. Marcel immediately texted his brother to come down to the cafe. he hated to get into other peoples business, especially if it came to his hot headed brothers personal life but he knew more than anyone how you meant to him so he had to do the brother thing and notify him of Reiner’s intentions. 

“I was just wonderin’ if you wanted to come with Bertholdt, Annie, and I to ice skate, I wanted to take you as my plus one,” he stated. 

you thought for a moment. 

“well, what time are you guys planning on going? I can come after I’m done with Porco and Marcel!” you said excitedly. Reiner’s eyebrow raised as he saw Porco basically jetting down the stairs, “oh hey, Porco’s here!” you exclaimed 

Reiner remained silent, looking at the boy who was now glaring at him. the two of them continued to stare at each other, making you wonder why the air suddenly became thick. 

“uh, guys?” you said clapping your hands in front of their faces. they both instantly looked down at you, “sorry,” Reiner said bringing you to his side, “I was just thinking of something,” he spat.

Porco laughed sarcastically, “care to mention what is was, Braun?” he asked. you looked to Marcel for help, “guys, enough, let it go. Porco, you need to head home to grab your soccer gear,” Marcel said. 

the two of them brushed off the words as you placed your hand on Reiner’s shoulder, “hey, how about you come with me to class. I want to get there a bit early and I know your class is in the next hall,” you whispered, hoping they would finally end their stand off. 

“sure, I have no problem in walking you,” he said. Porco’s anger instantly rose, “I’ll come bring you lunch. I know how much you like the restaurant by my house,” you looked over to Porco, “you really don’t have too. you’re already paying for my dinner tomorrow so I can’t make you do that again,” you tried to say. 

Porco grabbed your hand, “for you, I’d do anything,” Marcel’s mouth dropped at the sudden declaration of love that was not normal coming out of his brother. Reiner on the other hand immediately retracted you from his grasp before taking your other hand, “lets go before you’re late,” he said. 

you gave Porco one final smile before walking away with Reiner. Marcel stared his brother in disbelief, not knowing what to do with what he just saw. “well, you gonna explain what I just saw?” he asked. 

Porco shook his head, “no,” and with that, he walked away. Marcel followed him, “listen, you know I’m the last to get in your business but this little competition over her has to stop. either one of you confesses and she accepts it before it goes to the shit and ends up dating someone else because of both of your immaturity,” Marcel lectured. 

“don’t you think I know that?” Porco retorted, “I’ve been fighting tooth and nail for her and I refuse to lose to Reiner of all people. plus, I heard from Pieck that she plans on choosing one of us soon so if it happens before she hangs out with Reiner on Saturday night then it’ll just be the cherry on top of it all.” 

Marcel rolled his eyes, brushing off his friend and brother immature attitude. 

+

Saturday morning finally came as you crawled out of bed. being that today was relatively the last day you had with both boys before you confessed to Reiner or Porco, you woke up with a feeling of nervousness in the pit of your stomach. 

“you ready for tonight?” Pieck said over Facetime. you shrugged, “kind of. I’m just nervous. regardless of who I actually like, the other is going to be so upset and I’m more than likely going to lose a friendship out of them,” you replied. 

she nodded understandingly, “well, do you know who really owns that heart of yours? one of them has to stand out more than the other,” she replied. “it’s hard. Reiner is such an amazing guy. he understands me in ways that Porco doesn’t. arguably, he’s been there a lot more than Porco has but Porco is just so different. he’s almost as if he’s the piece that I’m missing.” 

you growled, putting your head against the wall as she laughed, “listen, don’t stress yourself out. just see how today goes and if you happen to see that you like one more than the other, tell them right there,” you nodded as you saw Porco’s message telling you he was outside. 

you told Pieck goodbye before slipping on shoes and grabbing your bag. she could only hope that if you didn’t pick Porco, you let him down easy. she knew how Porco was, especially towards Reiner and didn’t want to be at the receiving end of the news if you told him no. 

“hey Marcel, Porco!” you said excitedly. Porco grabbed your hand softly as Marcel jokingly gagged, “be quiet. you’re just mad you don’t have anyone to be with,” Porco told him, “my date is meeting us there so fuck off,” Marcel countered.

the entire ride to the restaurant was you three just talking about whatever came up and because Porco sat in the back with you, he held your hand the entire time. every so often, he would rub your hand with his thumb making your face a bit warm. 

his grasp was very different in comparison to Reiner’s. Reiner’s hold was soft, almost like a delicate flower as Porco really held your hand as if it was the last time he’d ever get to hold it. 

“we’re here so get out my car,” Marcel said. you gave him the finger before hopping out of the so he could find parking. Porco held your hand, walking you to the small bench a bit away from the restaurant. you were confused as to why. 

“I want to talk to you about something,” he said grabbed your hand. you nodded for him to continue, “I know I’m basically fighting for you with Reiner. Ik know the two of you are close but I want you to know that I’d be the best option for you. I can give you the world and more,” he whispered before bringing you in for a kiss. 

he was lucky that the bench was so far from the restaurant as he slipped his hand on your thigh, pinching it softly. you moaned quietly at the movement but quickly enough moved back. 

“not here Porco and it’s not fair to Reiner and you know it.” 

he nodded as he let himself off you before getting up and giving you his hand. the two of you walked to the entrance of the restaurant, greeting Marcel’s date before walking in. 

+

after the dinner you walked to Marcel’s car, he had given Porco the key mentioning he’d get a ride back with his date. you sat in the passenger seat, holding his hand harder than you would be. 

the drive was eerily silent. he knew that you were now going to be with Reiner, essentially on a date with him and he had no control of what you did with him so the nervousness was bubbling up in his stomach. 

as he got the rink, he saw Reiner grabbing your pair of skates and paying for your ticket. he saw the way your face lit up at seeing him and a bit of sadness washed over him. 

“i’ll talk to you later?” you asked as he nodded. Porco kissed your hand softly before letting you out of the car and pulling out of the lot. 

you ran too Reiner, Annie, and Bertl, them saying hi almost instantly. Reiner handed you the skates as he patted the seat next to him. 

“here, I’ll tie your skates for you,” he offered, pulling your legs up. you smiled, “thank you Reiner,” you whispered. he slowly tied the skates before rubbing your legs softly, “you look amazing tonight,” he mentioned. 

you smiled, “stop, you’re just saying that,” your murmured shyly. he shook his head no, “i’m not. I’m glad you came out tonight and I want to show you that tonight is going to make up for whatever you didn’t enjoy today,” he added on. 

Reiner grabbed your hand, the one specifically Porco had kissed and brought you closer. this time, the kiss he had given you wasn’t as heated as Porco’s was. it was softer, more gentle, and nice. 

“lets go before Bertl and Annie think something happened to us,” he joked, finally pulling away. 

REINER ENDING: 

the entire time you were with Reiner, he had you within close proximity almost the entire night. singing songs in your ear as they played through the loud speaker of the rink. ‘you were meant for me’ from the movie Singing in the Rain was specifically the song he was singing. 

your face had felt warm the entire time. you found it sweet that such an old song was what he chose and knew from heart. 

Bertholdt and Annie had left the two of you a while after skating. the two of them claiming they were cold but you knew it was more of the fact that they probably wanted to give you privacy. 

“we should get going before you catch a cold,” Reiner said finally taking his skates off on the bench. he once again helped out unlace the shoes before handing them to the worker and meeting you back on the bench. 

the two of you walked to his car, him opening the door for you. upon him getting in the car, you looked over to him and smiled before reaching over and giving him a kiss. he instantly returned it, happy that his car was parked in a section with not many people looking in. 

“wait, i can’t do this, i don’t want to get my hopes up,” Reiner said trying to pull back. you sighed knowing what you were about to say would be just like word vomit, “Reiner, it’s not getting your hopes up if I’m just waiting for you to ask me out,” you whispered. 

his eyes widened, realizing what you meant. “wait, are you saying?” he asked. you nodded shyly as he practically fist pumped the air in excitement, “I’m so happy to hear those words,” he said pulling you in for another kiss. 

you let him kiss you for a while before pulling away, “I need to get home. I should text Porco,” you told him. Reiner nodded as he finally pulled out the parking lot and making his way back to your dorm. the entire time you had texted Porco. 

“I’m sorry Porco.” 

as soon as he received the message, he knew what it meant. he felt his anger rising as his hands clenched in anger. Marcel was sitting beside him as Porco stood up from the couch, leaving his phone accidentally open. he peered down to the message and sighed. 

Marcel knew you had no intentions to upset him so badly but he just felt sad at seeing his brother so upset. 

PORCO ENDING: 

you looked too Reiner and nervously smiled at him, “hey Reiner, do you think you can take me back to my dorm?” you asked. a part of him felt the shift in the air as you couldn’t really look at him anymore. 

Reiner was starting to connect the dots as you were silent through the drive home. you were holding his hand but not the way you would be and trying to make conversation but couldn’t keep it up. 

once you got back to your dorm building, you got out, Reiner walking you to the empty back entrance. you held his hand as you stood in front of him. “you don’t have to tell me, I can tell,” he told you, now holding both your hands, “i know but I feel so bad,” you murmured. 

Reiner shook his head no, “don’t. the world was meant for us just to be friends and as long as I’m able to be your friend, that’s all I ask,” you nodded as he placed on final kiss on the top of your head before giving you a small goodbye. 

you looked to your phone and texted Porco wondering if he could meet you at your dorm. you made your way to your room, kicking your shoes off and pulling on a hoodie and shorts. 

getting a response that he was downstairs, you walked down slowly, seeing him holding something in his hand. you opened the door as you stood in front of him and smiled. 

“how are you?” he asked softly, “fine, glad you wanted to meet me this late,” you responded. Porco laughed as he grabbed your hand, “always,” he replied. 

you pulled him in for a hug, surprising him a bit, “I hate to say it this way but I want you,” you managed to say. Porco’s mouth dropped a bit before he picked you up and spun you around, “seriously?” he asked. 

you nodded as he brought you down for a kiss. you wrapped your arms around his neck. the two of you remained that way before you finally pulled away and looked at him with a soft smile. 

“you have no idea how happy that makes me. can i just cuddle you for a while?” he asked. you nodded as you opened the door and let him practically let him carry you in. 

[kelieah]

my neighborhood (peter parker x vigilante!reader) [1]

request: @annamckayla : HELLO! Omg i love ur writing so much ahhhh! I was hoping I could request for a peter x reader, where they are both heroes (or reader is bad idm up to you) and they are fighting ppl / each other but they are super flirty! AHH OK ILY BYEEE ;)))))))))

warnings: sarcasm, insulting, flirting, fighting. reader is a vigilante, goes to midtown high and is semi close friends with peter. kinda like a hate love relationship. alsooo reader’s powers is speed and eletricity so basically the flash idkdkdk sorry

edited: i’m working on a new series based off of this request! masterlist for it is here

a/n: my first request! so happy hehe ilyt!! also im so sorry if this doesnt make sense, im not great with super powers lol

pov: first, y/n

masterlist

-

I have to admit. He’s cute, but he’s so irritating. Is it the fact that he’s so undeniably cute? Yes. No, yes but Peter is such a know it all, or at least I think so.

For some reason, it didn’t stop me from hanging out with him and his friends for the past couple of months. After picking up some school lunch, I grab a seat in front of Peter and Ned.

“Hey Y/n,” Ned smiles. “Hi Ned! Hi Peter,” I greet back, looking over at Peter. He didn’t seem to notice, his eyes too focused on Liz. 

“Why do you even hang out with them Y/n, they’re losers,” I hear MJ pipe up. Ned, Peter and I all turn our heads to her.

“True-” I stifle a laugh.

“Then why are you sitting here with us?” Peter retorts.

“Because she’s cool, and doesn’t drool over seniors like, someone,” I cough, smirking at him. He rolls his eyes and glares at me.

“She’s not wrong,” Ned murmurs.

“Dude!” Peter huffs, making me giggle. He smiles slightly and slumps on the palm of his hand, looking away.

“Pete, could you come over after school? I need help with chem, and I know you need help with English,” I poke him with a fork causing him to swat me away.

“Yeah whatever, I think that’s just an excuse to get me to come over,” he teases.

“Shut up!” I groan. Ned and MJ share a suspicious glance. “What?” I ask cluelessly.

“Nothing,” they both say quietly.

After a long dreadful day of school, Peter and I met up at the front of the school, by the gates.

“Hey Penis Parker,” I smirk, holding onto my backpack straps.

He lets out a long sigh, “Not you too, Y/n. C’mon,” he huffs.

“I’m just messing with you Pete,” I bump into him, beginning to walk ahead.

He follows, catching up easily, “Right. Anyways, have you heard about the new vigilante in town?”

I tense at the subject, “Uhm yeah, that speedy girl?”

“Yup. What do you think about her?”

“Uh, I don’t know. All I know is that she’s probably better than Spider-Man.”

He looks at me offended, “Who’s to say? Spider-Man is like, super-human, he has a bunch of powers-”

“Don’t get your panties all in a twist, I’m just saying,” I laugh, “Sheesh didn’t think you were such a big fan of Spider-Man.”

“U-uh why wouldn’t I be, he’s s-super cool.” “Said every teenager ever, I like this new girl. She’s kind of refreshing y’know?”

“Meh,” Peter shrugs, and I scoff shoving him aside.

We eventually head to my apartment and study together. I messed around while Peter tried to help me with homework, but he ended up getting distracted anyways.

I let out a long groan, “Shut up! You’ve been talking about chemistry for the past 30 minutes and I didn’t understand one thing that came out of your mouth.”

Peter’s mouth drops. He throws one of my pillows at me, “You asked me to come over!”

“I know, because I’m lonely.”

“Sure.”

“You’re right, I just needed you to do my homework.”

“I hate you.”

“I love you too,” I flash him a cheeky smile, causing him to roll his eyes. I glance over at the clock, “Hey uh, I think you should head out soon. My dad’s coming back from work soon and you know how he is with boys.”

“Yeah yeah, don’t miss me too much,” he gets up, gathering his things.

“Reverse card!” “See you,” he chuckles and walks off.

“Bye Penis Parker!” I yell, making sure he left. As soon as he closed the front door, I rush into my closet to get out my suit.

After putting it on and tidying up room, I head out my window and jump out to the fire escape.

I decide to scan the city, running and jumping from building to building. It seemed quiet so I sat down on the ledge of some random building.

I hear a quiet thud next to me. I glance over at the figure, who I made out to be Spider-Man. “Ah, well if it isn’t the infamous Spider-Man.”

“Thought I’d check out who the new girl in town is,” he chuckles. His voice seemed higher than I expected it to be, it almost sounds familiar. Weird. Could it be? No way, that’s impossible.

“You care about me? I’m touched,” I place a hand on my heart. I hear him stifle a laugh and shake his head.

He went quiet for a second and stood up from his crouching position, “There’s something going on by 5th street in some warehouse,” he says.

“Guess we should head over-”

“We? I don’t know about that new girl, this is my neighborhood,” he jumps off the ledge, swinging from building to building.

The fuck, who does this guy think he is!?

I rush downstairs and speed off to 5th street, managing to get there before he did. “Yes, we,” I cross my arms looking up at Spider-Man who arrived shortly after me.

He scoffs, “So you’re fast. Hopefully you can catch up, sweetheart,” he swings up to the roof of a warehouse.

I quickly follow, managing to find a way inside and on to the rooftop. I run over to where Spider-Man is crouched down behind a large air vent. I poke my head out to see a poor lady tied to a chair, with a bunch of men surronding her.

“Some kind of intense hostage situation,” he whispers.

“You’re an intense hostage situation,” I murmur.

“What? Shut up!” he whispers. “Oh my god, I think that’s the mayor.”

He jumps up from the vent, placing his hands on his hips. “Hey uh, guys I don’t think you should be treating a lady- especially our mayor like that,” he says, changing the pitch of his voice. I scrunch up my nose at his awkwardness.

“What the fuck, who called him-!” I hear a rough voice yell out, followed by a series of gunshots and screaming.

Spider-Man yelps and manages to fling some guns aside, causing two men to gang up on him, “Hey, new girl a little help!” he yells out. There another two men next to the mayor, with large guns in their hands.

“On it!” I call back, rushing over to the two men circling them. “Hi there,” I grin, place my hands on their guns surging a large amount of eletricity to them, knocking them out.

I help the mayor out, making sure she wasn’t injured or anything. “Karen, call the police and give them our location,” I hear Spider-Man mumble quickly, grunting as he knocks out the two men he was dealing with.

The mayor who was still in complete shock began to ramble, “T-thank you Spider-Man. T-thank you?” she looks over at me.

“Uhm, Velocity?” I rub my arm as Spider-Man watches in amusement.

“Thank you both really-” she sniffs. Suddenly, the roof top door slams open and a bunch of big bulky men come out with these weird looking weapons.

“Heads up, Spidey!” I yell, as one of the men shoot their weird looking gun that emitted some type of green energy.

I grab the Mayor and speed down to the front of the building, where a bunch of police cars pulled up.

Shocked from the momentum, she falls to her knees. “I’m so sorry, but I had to get you out of there. Stay safe!” I rush back to the rooftop.

I notice Spider-Man struggling to get this one guy off of him, “Pretty boy, to your right!” I yell. I run over to one of the weapons and toss it to him.

He quickly webs it and slings it against the guy, knocking him out, “Pretty boy?” he scoffs.

“Yeah, that’s what you sound like!” I grunt, punching a guy who was coming to my left with a surge of electricity.

“So you’d be an annoying girl?” he smirks, also fighting off someone who rushed towards him.

“I’d be honored,” I scoff. “Holy shit!” I let out a yelp as I felt myself being lifted in the air by one of the weapons.

I hear a quick thwip and suddenly I was back on my feet, with Spider-Man’s arm around my waist, “My hero-” I gasp dramatically.

“Cute,” he rolls his eyes. He pushes me towards another guy who was trying to get their weird gun to work.

I frown instantly, and circle around him grabbing the gun before he could do anything. I fling it against him, and press my hand harshly on the gun, causing eletricity to rush all over him.

He knocks out, and I turn around, seeing Spider-Man fling against the air vent. I inhale sharply and rush towards the guy, knocking him off his feet causing him to let go of the weapon.

I kick it away, the guy gets back up and attempts to punch at me. I easily dodge his attacks and punch him with eletricity.

“Oh my god, I did it- I mean we did it! We-” I look over at Spidey who was slump on the ground. “Shit,” I speed over to his side, propping his head up onto my lap. “Pretty boy, you still there?”

I notice his mask was slightly cut open, blood seeping out from the side of his head. I knew that he had the mask on for a reason, but he could be dying. It’s not like I would out him to anyone. I understand why he would keep his identity a secret, it’s what I do as well.

I inhale deeply, pulling off his mask. I let out a gasp, “Peter!?” 

part two

taglist

@rcmxnoff​ @annamckayla​ @elsie512​ @bubblesbts

[katsukikitten]

Steak out

A/N ANOTHER ONE enjoy this thirst text theme I've got going on. Probs the last one for awhile BBs. Hope yall enjoy this one. Somehow I involved my husband again...

Deku sits hunched over his notes muttering in the confined space of the car.

A slam on the dashboard has his sole leaving his body.

"Would you shut the FUCK UP?!" Bakugou yells, steam rising from the palm that struck the cheap dashboard. Scarlet burns hot, hot enough to cut into emerald.

After a long moment Bakugou readjusts himself, slumping further in the driver's seat but still having a good view of the building ahead.

"It's bad enough the director wants me to steak this shit out let alone with your mumbling ass." Bakugou snarls, hating that he is stuck in this claustrophobic space that only gets heavier with every uttered whisper. The car sits in a shadowed alley facing what seems to be an abandoned warehouse.

Even in broad day light the broken glass and tattered boards gave Izuku the creeps. He sighs, staring at his partner before going back to his notes.

His phone vibrates in his pocket and he pulls it out.

*"The pictures I asked for are late, little Prince."*

Deku swallows thickly, he had been in the car all night and half the day. There was no way he was going to be able to get them to you.

*"I'm still on a job."*

He sweats before frantic fingers dash across the screen to add

*"My Mistress."*

But he believes he sent it too late, three dots in a bubble disappear and reappear several times before a message comes through.

*"I don't tolerate excuses or attitude little Prince. Send the pictures now or expect punishment."*

*"Mistress please!"*

*"Now!"*

Izuku's palms sweat, he clearly cannot afford to piss you off anymore. You had given a specific deadline and with plenty of notice.

But he thought he could get away with not sending them, it's not as if the two of you were dating.

More like fooling around, testing boundaries.

Plus he had just been avoiding it, not liking the way he has been looking lately, which is exactly why you assigned it. Izuku squirms in his seat earning a glare from his partner.

"If you've got to fucking piss use the alley damn it!" Bakugou shoves him into the door and for once Izuku is glad for the roughness.

Bakugou gave him a good idea.

"I'll..I'll be right back."

"It'd be okay if you weren't..."

Izuku takes his phone with shaking hands down the alley way just enough to be out of sight.

He lifts his shirt just a tad sending you a picture of himself showing off only the bottom two abs, sure to have his pants up over his light V.

He frowns, wishing he hadn't sent it before a message from you pops up.

*"Good first step but I want more."*

He leaves it on read for a moment before another comes in with a picture attached.

Izuku instantly blushes, cheeks burning with embarrassment and hot desire.

You're sitting on the edge your couch, skirt pulled up past your thick thighs and nice ass, tights ripped open, showcasing your fingers stroking your heavenly form.

*"Come on little Prince. Mistress isn't going to use her imagination to cum."*

*"You want to be a good boy and help me cum right?"*

He palms himself at the thought, hardly ever getting to touch you except when you decide to use his face as your throne.

He tries another picture only pulling his shirt up a bit more still avoid his V or showing his face.

*"I know you can do better...Don't my pictures make you want to cream your pants wishing it were me?"*

This time a selfie of your own fingers in your mouth, clearly tasting yourself for him.

He can taste it now, the sweetness on his tongue does have precum forming.

"Nnngghh." He groans, frustrating himself trying to get any good picture, angling his phone this way and that.

Only for you to encourage that you want more.

You send another dirty photo of you, two fingers spreading yourself.

*"Only good boys get to taste this. Very good boys get to fuck it. Now where is your confidence prince?"*

He has half a mind to be disobedient, ignoring your last order to not cum without you present, whether it be video chat or in person.

He has half a mind to just ignore your text messages and ease the ache in his pants. He palms himself again.

"OI!" The shout behind him causes him to jump, enough that he tosses his *unlocked* phone.

The very same phone that lands unharmed at the feet of a hot head.

Oh

Fuck

"Bakugou wow, so funny seeing you here with my phone! I'llbeneedingitbacknowthanks!" He strings the last part together rushing to snatch it but its too late.

Bakugou must have seen what you've sent, especially since his mouth is twisted up in a deadly smile.

"Fucking around with Y/LN huh?" He asks before noticing something.

"Do..do you not know how to send a nude or semi nude?" He scoffs and when Izuku turns beet red Bakugou comes up with an idea.

"Why don't we show your *mistress* how good of a boy you are okay Prince?" Bakugou asks, cornering Deku against the wall.

The nick name coming from his friends lips is doing something odd to his chest.

The same feeling he got when you first called him that.

"Ah Kaachan what are you?"

"Trust me." He says lifting his shirt all the way before putting it into his mouth, biting it while angling his head up slightly.

His scarlet eyes look into the camera and the gaze he is giving it even has butterflies in Izuku's stomach. He watches Bakugou hit send.

You open your phone to see a sinful picture of Bakugou.

Your core melts further as your eyes flutter over the image. The hard V points to mouth watering sin, a faint ash blonde happy trail further guiding you before your eyes finally travel up.

Slowly over each perfectly sculpted ab, one nipple is covered while the other is exposed thanks to the hot head securing the fabric between snarled teeth, eyes leaded heavy with lust.

Your heat clenches on it's own, you've always had a desire for Bakugou as well.

A message comes in.

*"Are you playing with another Dom, little one?"*

Bakugou smirks wildly as the idea forms. He had played with you before and he loved the idea of you painted with jealousy. Whether it be from his hands touching another or because his hands were touching your current toy.

He blasts the wall across from the two of them, removing a brick to hold Izuku's phone perfectly before pulling his shirt over the top of his head.

"Ka..kaachan." Izuku stammers and damn did he look cute. Flustered and stuttering Bakugou's nickname, his smirk becomes deadlier.

Two birds with one stone.

"Hush, *prince*." Bakugou snarls, ripping open Izuku's shirt right down the middle. Pulling it slightly off his shoulders, a deadly hand popping with anticipation before smoothing it over abs, feathering over Izuku's soft V before letting his fingers settle just beneath the band of his boxers.

The timer should go off any second and Bakuou needed Deku to make the perfect face.

Bakugou drags his capable tongue up the side of Izuku's cheek, sure to keep his eyes trained over his shoulder at the camera.

He can feel Deku's rapid pulse before removing his hands from such warm smooth skin, grabbing onto the phone more than happy with the shot.

He sends it with a Kingly caption.

*"Yes this little Prince is my toy now, Brat."*

"Ka..kaachan you're going to make Mistress upset. You need to address her appropriatly." Izuku defends your honor only to be seized by the throat and shoved agaisnt rough brick.

Katuski applies just enough pressure to Izuku's rapid pulse, careful to avoid his fragile larynx.

The same thing Bakugou used to do to you. Izuku's eyes flutter and the blonde can tell that he is close to sub space.

A text rings out on Izuku's phone that is still in Bakugou's hand.

"I'm her master so that makes me *your* master. You'll address me as King just as that brat should." He squeezes before letting go, "Don't let that little kitten corrupt you, prince. We have a mission to finish."

Izuku watches a broad back with mixed emotions, he trails slowly behind.

"K...king Katuski. What do you mean you're mistress's master? She said she was single."

Katsuki sighs before opening the door for Deku, make sure that when he steps into the car he does not bump his emerald head. The blond leans into the car, close to Deku's face.

"Fuck..." He hisses as he studies Izuku, "You're like fucking truth serum. She technically is single but she's my bratty ass Kitten. She can be your mistress too."

Bakugou shuts the door glancing down at the bright glass in his hand, a smile returning to his lips before he settles in the car.

*"Guess who just came without your permission King. I should be rewarded though I found us another play mate."* 👅😜

You pant, not believing your luck. The last picture sending you over the edge in seconds with blurred vision of black stars.

God damn he was too good.

Teasing you with your own toy, you slam your head agaisnt the head of the couch. Hating that you have a need to be a brat and a need to dominate/ help build the confidence of another.

You bite your lip in anticipation for a reply.

Your phone chimes and you unlock it at super human speed.

"Guess you'll have to see whether you'll get rewarded or punished tonight. Be on time. I'll have our little Prince waiting, Kitten."

[lovelyirony]

Touchdown

@ragnarokdad has excellent ideas and i can’t pass them up 

No one expected Bruce Banner to work in the world of sports, mostly because Bruce couldn’t give a rat’s ass about any championship, score, or method of getting the points. 

“Why?” Tony asks after Bruce says he can’t make Thanksgiving until late. “Why go for it?” 

“Athletes will forever be injured, and I will forever have a job,” Bruce says. “Also, nice dental benefits.” 

Bruce has been bounced around a couple of teams although he stays in New York for his permanent home. They finally relocate him to the New York team, where there’s a new player in town. 

His name is Thor. They call him “Thunder” after he collided with one of the biggest men in the NFL and there was an audible “boom” as Thor broke his helmet by sheer force. 

Bruce didn’t really care. He was just in charge of making sure athletes stayed healthy, got rest, and stopped being whiny about ice baths. 

When he sees Thor, he blinks. He’s used to seeing the muscled-guys, some of them being cute. 

But none of them like...like that. Thor looked good, and his smile was killer. Bruce just put down his glasses on the counter. 

“Thor, right?” 

“Correct, Dr. Banner. I am here for a deep-tissue massage?” 

“Yes,” Bruce says, voice going slightly higher. “Yes you are.” 

It’s honestly only awkward for Bruce because Thor is his type. It’s easy to massage people, and Bruce gets over it as he asks Thor about his life. 

“Anyone to get back home to?” 

“My brother’s snakes,” Thor says. “He’s out of town, in Italy. Has to work on some fashion line or other. I’m not sure, he says I’m not allowed to see.” 

“Not the sports type?” 

“Never,” Thor says. “I wasn’t even going to play football, but I’m good at it and people like it. So why not? I think I’ll play for another two years and resign.” 

Bruce nods, and hits a particularly tight spot. Thor grunts as he twitches on the table. 

“Hold still,” Bruce murmurs. 

“What about you? What got you into sports?” 

Bruce laughs for a moment, pausing. 

“Oh, I’m not the one into sports. I don’t know anything about this sport other than the points-system and the fact that it takes too long for my taste. I was originally going into radiation science. Still might later on, if my friend Tony has anything to say.” 

“What prompted the change?” 

“A bit of outside world experience,” Bruce says. “That, and a steady paycheck. You guys like to stay injured, I swear.” 

Bruce waves goodbye as Thor leaves, getting to his car. 

Thor can’t stop thinking about the doctor, Bruce. He was cute, with a nice smile. He has to feed Lacey and Finnish, who are trying to break out of the cage. Thor gets their food, sends a picture to Loki, and gets an immediate response. 

u were ten minutes late home. they could’ve DIED thor 

relax they were fine, just drama queens. made a new friend 

you make a lot of friends why mention this one? 

ohhhhhhh 

a friend ;) 

it’s not like that 

no it is. otherwise you know my time is valuable and you wouldn’t waste it 

have fun being a loser lmfaooooo i’m telling val 

Thor rolls his eyes, setting his phone down to make his own dinner. He can’t wait for Loki to return and take his pets with him. 

He returns to practices and meetings and games and starts noticing Bruce more. He talks with him too, which is nice. He’s funny as all hell, a sardonic smile on his face as some of the team brags about their skill. 

“Sure, yeah, I don’t care,” Bruce says, waving a hand in the air. “I have a dinner with friends to get to at seven, and I will not be staying late tonight. It’s sushi, and it’s good.” 

Thor is also surprised, because he has a dinner to get to as well. Sushi, same as. But he shakes his head out of the thought. No use in entertaining dreams when there’s things to be done. 

Bruce nearly spits out his water when he sees Thor enter the restaurant. 

“Good to see you again,” Thor says smoothly, sliding in next to Jane and Helen. 

“I’m wondering how you’re in this group and I’ve never heard,” Bruce answers, dabbing at his mouth with a napkin. 

“He was in our psych class in college,” Helen says. “He was the only jock who actually didn’t have to use a sign-in sheet for classes and he knew jokes about Freud.” 

“Good guy,” Jane says. “Helped me and Helen get together, so he’s gonna be my best-man-of-honor.” Bruce laughs, smiling. 

“Well, good to know.” 

The dinner is enjoyable. They all get new jokes in, Bruce gets Thor’s number out of it, and Helen and Jane have to leave a little bit earlier due to a very frantic-sounding voicemail from someone named Darcy about the “science doo-hickey-thing-jig that has the rainbow duct-tape on it.” 

“One of Jane’s,” Helen says, digging cash out of her purse. “We really have to go.” 

“We’ll be fine,” Thor says. “Have fun.” 

“My machine!” Jane yells, already rushing out the door. Her wife rolls her eyes and chases after her. 

Bruce turns to Thor, laughing. 

“Quite the emergency, the two of them.” 

“Yes, it is. But you mentioned someone named Sam earlier. You wouldn’t happen to know Sam Wilson, would you?” 

“No fucking way.” 

As it turns out, their friend-group is one and the same, mostly. Bruce and Thor both don’t know why the friends never mentioned each other. 

“We can surprise them by knowing each other, maybe,” Thor says. “Loki says I need a plus-one for his show in Milan. You up for coming as my date?” 

“Only if I get to have the window seat on the plane,” Bruce says. “But yes. I would love that.” 

Thor nods, and starts texting Loki. 

bruce and i will come and see your show in milan 

finally had a change in mind about travel because of your little interest? how nice. can’t wait 2 embarrass u. how comfy are u with ur sixth grade pictures 

nvm flight cancelled 

can’t cancel it, see ya there ;) val says hi and that ur a lil bitch 

“What are you laughing at?” Bruce asks, eating the last of the dessert roll. 

“Just my brother’s responses,” Thor says, putting his phone away. “He’s excited to meet you since you know how to care for snakes. He might try to convince you to take them next time he has to travel without them.” 

“I’m sure that would be fine,” Bruce says. “But when do we need to be on the flight?” 

“Five in the morning,” Thor says with a wince. Bruce nods. 

“Piece of cake. Unless you’re not up to it,” Bruce teases. 

“Nonsense,” Thor says, slinging an arm around Bruce’s shoulders. “I’d be up to anything as long as I got to do it with you.” 

Bruce looks up, startled. 

“You mean--?” 

“I rather like introducing you as my date. And my boyfriend, potentially.” 

“I’m okay with that one.” 

Thor grins, sending an update to Loki. 

dating now! 

you act as if i’m supposed to b shocked. lozer 

:)) 

[rosesupposes]

Ivy League

In which Race goes to dinner with Spot, his professor, and his asshole classmate and Spot ends up defending Race’s honor.

This is v v v self indulgent and probably doesn’t make much sense. Just know that Kelly Smaltzer is modern girlsie Smalls who just hasn’t gotten her nickname yet.

Read on AO3.

-

“Thanks so much for your help, Race. I was sure I was gonna fail this test.”

“No problem, Davey,” Race said, packing the empty containers from his lunch into his bag. Spot was on a meal prep kick and Race hadn’t been able to escape it. “After my midterm this morning, it actually reminded me that physics isn’t crazy.”

“Your Planetary Relations class right?” Davey started packing up his bag. 

“Yeah and then my Dance Comp one later. But Albert and I are having rehearsals beforehand and then we’ve got another rehearsal for a showcase.”

Davey looked confused, as he gathered up the trash from his lunch, along with the trash Jack and Crutchie had left when Race and Davey had started reviewing for Davey’s Physics I test. “I thought you and Spot had that dinner with his professor tonight?”

Race groaned and held up the garment bag he’d had to bring along with his backpack and dance bag. “We do. I’ve been lugging my pants and shirt around all day. I have to wear a tie, Davey. A tie.”

Davey rolled his eyes. “You’ll survive. Spot must really want to impress his professor if he’s risking making you wear a tie.”

“I resent that but it’s not untrue. And he does. She takes an intern every summer from her first year classes and he thinks it’s a really good sign that she invited him to this dinner. But she also invited that asshole classmate that Spot’s always complaining about. He’s bringing his girlfriend.” Race wrinkled his nose. 

“Oh, I see. That’s why your wearing the tie,” Davey said with the know it all tone that Race knew meant he was teasing.

“What?”

“You’re trying to out trophy wife the girlfriend.”

“Shut up and go take your physics test,” Race said, pushing Davey’s arm and then walking away from him. His phone chirped with a text from Davey not 30 seconds later. 

I’m adding 3 points to your pettiness score. You’re in the lead now.

-

His Dance Comp midterm went well, even if it ran over. He blamed Albert for drawing the last performance slot because he could have left early otherwise. His whole body ached, protesting the Pilates class from hell that he’d had before lunch and the three hours of rehearsal he’d had after. Going home and vegging out on the couch sounded infinitely better than going to Spot’s dinner. The food would be good, sure, and Spot’s professor was paying but he’d learned early on in Spot’s law school career that when people at law events found out he wasn’t also in law school, they tended to lose interest pretty quickly. He was usually relegated to the role of trophy boyfriend- which he could do and do well but it was kind of hard when he was this exhausted and coming right from a day of midterms. 

He tied his tie while he waited for his Uber and attempted to fix his hair using Snapchat as a mirror. Spot had mentioned that his asshole classmate’s girlfriend was apparently model pretty and Davey was right; Race was nothing if not petty. He was definitely going to be the better trophy wife tonight, even if he was exhausted and coming from four hours of dancing.

As soon as Race was in his Uber and had an ETA he trusted, he texted Spot.

mdtrm ran ovr b there 5 min l8 blame al

Okay

ur gonna wow her n then well get wine drunk w javid 2nite 2 celbr8

After texting Jack and Davey to make sure they could get wine drunk when Race and Spot got home, Race was happy to find his AirPods shoved into his wallet and he put them in so he could start reviewing the choreography for his upcoming Repertory midterm in his head. He got another text from Spot when he was about five minutes from the restaurant.

They're seating us now. Just ask for Taylor Caine.

k eta 4 min ur gonna kill it luv u

Race went right to the hostess when he entered the restaurant. She probably had a fancier title than hostess at a place like this but Race definitely didn't know the word, even if it was probably Italian. "Hi, I think my party's already been seated. I'm with Taylor Caine?"

The hostess gave him a once over, eyes catching on his poorly tied tie. "Of course, follow me, sir." She led Race through the main dining area and to another, smaller area where Race immediately picked out Spot and his group. He waved, hoping to catch Spot's eye and sure enough Spot saw him, his face brightening in a way that most people didn't recognize.

"Speak of the devil," he said, grinning as Race took the empty seat between Spot and who he assumed was asshole classmate's girlfriend. "This is my boyfriend, Antonio Higgins."

"Call me Tony, please," Race said, as if he ever used that name. "I'm so sorry I'm late, my dance midterm ran over."

The woman on the other side of Spot set her menu down and pushed her reading glasses on top of her head, offering her hand to Race, who took it. "No worries at all, we've only just ordered our drinks. I'm Taylor Caine."

"Oh the famous Professor Caine," Race crowed. "It's so great to meet you after all of Sean's stories."

"Only good ones I hope?"

"The best," Race agreed, grinning at Spot, who was getting the look he did when he was almost about to blush. Race decided to back off a little instead of laying it on so thick. "He loves your classes."

"Oh don't flatter her," the woman next to her said. The way she put her hand on Taylor's shoulder spoke of  years of easy familiarity and it made Race smile to think of having that with someone- with Spot- one day. "I'll never hear the end of it. I'm Dalia."

Race shook her hand and then turned to the man at her side- presumably Spot's classmate. Race offered his hand. The man took it, but not before staring at it disdainfully. He eventually deigned to introduce himself to Race, but not before Race reintroduced himself first. “Antonio Higgins.”

 "Joseph Huntington III. This is my fiancée, Kelly Smaltzer."

"Great to meet you." Race was sitting next to Kelly so he turned to her as well and offered his hand, which she shook. "That dress is absolutely beautiful. Vera Wang?"

Kelly's face lit up. She was very pretty and Race felt a little bitter. "Thank you, yes. How did you know?"

While the others discussed whatever it was lawyers discussed, Race told her about Jack’s internship at the fashion magazine and how they would obsess over spreads together for hours and they fell into an easy conversation about fashion magazines. Kelly, it turned out, was writing for the website of a competing fashion magazine but she quietly admitted to Race that she was hoping to break away from fluff pieces soon and then move to a magazine more like the one Jack worked at- one that was focused on fashion but strived for inclusivity and female empowerment. She had some interesting ideas and Race was slowly starting to like her. She and Jack would be a force to be reckoned with if put in the same room together. If they were relegated to conversation as trophy wives for the night, he didn’t think he would mind it.

Eventually the waiter appeared with drinks. Spot leaned into Race's space to tell him, "I ordered you a seltzer, babe."

Race kissed Spot on the cheek, taking his glass from the waiter. "Perfect, thanks." 

As the waiter took their orders, Race suddenly realized he hadn’t looked over the menu at all- a dangerous choice, since he could be pretty picky with his Italian food. He began reading over but he only got through two appetizers before Spot interrupted him, quietly pointing out two of the menu items. “There’s lasagna you’ll like and a pasta primavera, if you want something lighter.”

“You know me too well,” he said with a wink and Spot rolled his eyes. He thought he heard Joseph scoff but he ignored it.

Once they'd settled back into conversation after ordering, Race found himself the center of attention. "So, Tony," Taylor said as she put away her reading glasses. "Sean tells me you're also at Columbia?"

Race nodded. "I am. I'm still an undergrad though- only a junior. Sean's too smart for me; he graduated high school and undergrad early."

"Don't sell yourself short. You’re-" Spot started but was interrupted by Joseph.

"You're a dance major then?"

"Yes," Race said, taking a sip of his seltzer, "a dance major and-"

“And what do you plan to do with that?”

“Well, I’m not quite sure yet but I also-”

"At Yale, dance is folded into the Theater Studies major. It’s not a very popular major. Most students at Yale choose a more… useful path for undergrad. I majored in political science. Joseph continued, a not so subtle attempt at shifting the focus of conversation to himself..

"Oh, how interesting," Dalia said, sounding perfectly interested though Race didn’t miss the little annoyed look that crossed her face.

Joseph launched into what was probably meant to sound like a description of undergraduate life in New Haven but was actually just a thinly veiled list of his accomplishments. Race nodded politely at all the right points in Joseph’s resume but caught Spot tensing his body out of the corner of his eye. Hoping to head off Spot’s seething, Race grabbed his hand under the table and squeezed it once, shaking his head a little. He waited for Spot to nod back to him before turning to Kelly. God, Spot could be such a drama queen. And, coming from Race, who was now leading on the pettiness scoreboard in their apartment, that was saying a lot.

Race turned back to Kelly, hoping to hear more of her ideas for future articles. She seemed excited just to have the chance to talk about them and after listening to both Katherine and Sarah rant for hours on end, Race felt like he knew how to actually engage in the conversation as an ally without being a total jerk.

By the time their food came, it was clear to Race that Spot’s assessment of Joseph as a Grade A Asshole was correct. He attempted to make every conversation about him and his opinions. He kept making digs at Spot’s less than ideal childhood and cutting off his own fiancée to speak for her. He was sitting next to Dalia but spent the whole time clearly trying to impress Taylor. In his effort to engage with Taylor, he ended up essentially ignoring Dalia, Kelly, and Race, and only engaging with Spot because he had to. No one seemed overly impressed with his accomplishments or his attitude which helped restore Race’s faith in humanity a little but it did not make for a fun dinner table.

Race could tell Spot was getting closer and closer to going off. His jaw was tight and he kept clenching and unclenching his fists under the table. It was one of the things Race loved most about Spot- his righteous outrage in the face of someone treating others like shit- but now was not the time for an outburst. He kept one hand just above Spot’s knee, even while talking to Kelly, slowly rubbing circles right above his knee cap.

Taylor and Dalia were wonderful, trying to keep everyone involved in the conversation. It was when they asked Kelly about herself that Race really started to get annoyed with Joseph. He kept talking over her, even when she was asked a direct question, ascribing opinions to her that Race could tell from her face she didn’t really hold. He told their engagement story with a focus on how amazing his plan had been while barely mentioning Kelly. When he excused himself to use the bathroom shortly after that, Race made it a point to ask Kelly again about the articles she wanted to write for her magazine. Taylor and Dalia both listened intently to her ideas of what fashion magazines could- and should- be.

“Sorry,” she said after a few minutes, putting her hands back in her lap and blushing a little. “I just get really excited about this kind of stuff.”

“No, no,” Taylor said. “Don’t apologize, you have a lot of really intelligent ideas and you’re very good at expressing them.”

Kelly beamed. “Thank you. I don’t have much chance to talk about them, even at work.”

Dalia hummed thoughtfully and nodded. “I remember seeing some profiles on your magazine recently. I thought they mentioned how progressive it was.”

“In some ways, it is,” Kelly said thoughtfully. “But in a lot of ways it’s white feminism and it’s lip service. There are a few articles on intersectionality in relation to feminism that I was sure I would get to write if I pitched them but I’ve been shut down again and again. They only want the type of feminism that’s palatable to their investors and they refuse to push for anything more. And we need to push for more. Intersectionality is the most important part of feminism and if I can somehow provide visibility to trans women or women of color-”

“This again, honey?” Joseph said, grinning as he sat down. “Sorry about that. She gets overexcited sometimes.”

Kelly looked visibly upset but also a little like she was used to it. “I’m not overexcited, Joey. This is important.”

“I don’t know why you care so much. It doesn’t affect you.”

“It does and even if it didn’t, then it’s even more important for me to care.”

Race could see a real argument brewing and, while he wouldn’t mind Joseph making himself out to be even more of an asshole, Kelly didn’t deserve to be put down in the middle of a restaurant, by her fiancee, when she was right. Without even thinking about it, Race took a sip of his almost finished seltzer and then set down his glass towards the edge of the table, tipping it into his own lap. “Oh my god, I’m such a klutz.” He stood, giving Spot a significant look and hoping his boyfriend picked up his cue to change the subject. “Excuse me, I’ll just go clean myself up.”

Race pulled a waitress aside as he headed to the bathroom, telling her about the spill. He cleaned himself up quickly. Thankfully, the air dryer helped with his wet pants. By the time he returned to the table, everyone seemed calm, though Kelly was decidedly not looking at Joseph. Dalia was speaking when Race sat down again. “I can’t say much obviously but it’s very exciting to represent them, even just in the patent filings. I mean, I have a degree in physics so it’s fun to go back to my roots with all the intermediary work before their next spacecraft is ready. Oh, Tony, is everything all right?”

“All set,” he said, taking his seat. “Just a little seltzer. Sorry, did you say you were working on patents for a spacecraft? Is it the Kord Industries one?”

Dalia’s eyes brightened. “Yes, actually, do you know it?”

“I do,” Race said at the same time that Joseph snorted. Race ignored it but could feel Spot seething next to him and reflexively reached a hand down to grab his knee. Spot was not going to blow his shot at this internship over whatever he thought was Race’s honor; not if Race could help it.

“And how do you feel about them? Most people who know enough to recognize them from such a brief description have strong opinions.”

“Oh, he does,” Spot said, a lot calmer than Race would expect.

Race laughed. “I guess that’s fair. I-“

“What would a dance major know about spacecraft?” Joseph had said it quietly to Kelly, who did not look pleased with him. The comment was clearly meant just for her but he hadn’t said it quietly enough because the whole table had heard him loud and clear. 

“Joseph,” Kelly said, sounding scandalized. “Stop it.”

“It’s okay, Kelly,” Race said, forcing a smile onto his face, even though he was kind of exhausted from dealing with Joseph tonight.

“No, it’s not okay,” Spot interjected, standing in his seat and leaning over the table a little. “Antonio is double majoring in Dance and Astrophysics, which you would know if you hadn’t been interrupting him all night. He is the smartest and most passionate man I know. He has more talent in his pinky finger than you have in your entire body and will graduate with two very difficult degrees with no class overlap from an Ivy League school in 4 years. He’s already co-authored 2 papers as an undergrad and presented at 4 major conferences this year alone. And what have you done? Relied on daddy’s name for a degree and law school entry?”

“Spot,” Race hissed under his breath, tugging on Spot’s wrist. Both Joseph and Kelly were frozen on the other side of the table. “Sit down.”

“No, Racer. He’s been rude to everyone all night and he doesn’t get to insult your intelligence because one of your majors is dance and he couldn’t bother to listen to you and find out the other.”

Joseph seemed to have collected himself enough to lift an eyebrow, looking amused. “And you got in based on what? The scholarship for poor orphaned kids from Queens?”

“I’m from Brooklyn, asshole” Spot hissed and Race almost laughed. Leave it to Spot to bring up Brooklyn rather than his LSAT score of 179.

“I’m sorry but that is completely inappropriate language for a restaurant like this,” Joseph said still sounding amused. He looked to Dalia and Taylor, apparently aiming for conspiratorial. “I guess a place at Columbia is no guarantee for good breeding.” He turned back to Spot and Race, arms crossed as if he had won. “You should go now.”

“Actually, I think you should go, Joseph.” All eyes turned to Taylor who did not look happy at all. “Sean is right. You’ve been very rude tonight and I can’t say I blame him for lashing out. Kelly, darling, you’re welcome to stay. I’d love to hear more about your article ideas.”

Joseph’s absolutely shocked face would forever be one of Race’s favorite memories. He seemed frozen in his shock but Kelly jumped to action, standing and pulling Joseph up with her. “Thank you so much, Taylor, Dalia, but we’ll both be going. Sean, it was lovely to meet you. Tony, I’ll send you that article I was telling you about. Thank you all so much again. Have a lovely night.”

Kelly grabbed her coat and purse and pulled a shell shocked Joseph out behind her, without another word from him. Spot relaxed a little as he sat back down but Race saw the exact moment that he realized what had just happened.

“Professor, I am so sorry, that was completely inappropriate. We should go too-”

“Please don’t,” Taylor said. “You and Tony have been a delight tonight unlike Joseph. This is exactly why I do these dinners. You never know how a student behaves outside of class unless you meet them outside of class.”

“Yes, please stay,” Dalia said. “I’d like to hear Tony’s opinions on the Kord Industries spacecraft. The younger generation tends to have the most innovative thoughts on these things, in my experience. But first you’ll have to tell us where the nicknames Spot and Racer come from.”

Spot and Race grinned at each other. 

“Well, you see,” Spot started, turning back to the older women. “My brother likes to think he’s very good at giving people nicknames.”

[the-quiet-winds]

Ice in the Echo

[angst]

“Please?”

“No.”

“Come on, please?”

“No.”

Anne leans over to Katherine and whispers into the girl’s ear. Jane, from the passenger seat, is pleased that Anne has finally stopped begging.

Then, she hears a smaller, younger voice. “Please, mama?”

Jane’s head falls back against the headrest. How could she say no to her pleading daughter. She turns to look at Aragon, driving, and lifts her eyebrows.

Catherine, with a huffed sigh, pulls off the highway at the next exit and searches for the nearest convenience store. 

The road trip had started that morning, heading into the north country for a much needed holiday, as a family.

As usual, Aragon commandeered the wheel, and no one could talk her out of it, and Jane suspects it’s a little bit of fear of not having control, hence Aragon always driving the car, but she’s never truly questioned it.

It was past dinner time now, and Anne had been begging to stop somewhere to get chocolate and snacks for the hotel room they had rented for the night, and Jane had put her foot down.

But Anne knew how to bend Jane’s will, obviously, and put Kitty up to the task, and it was all over after that.

They pull into the lot of a small mart and exit under flickering streetlights. Cleves pulls her jacket tighter around her as she and Aragon huddle together for warmth, watching Anne and Katherine race towards the door.

Once inside, they disperse. Aragon and Jane stock up on basic medicine, Cleves and Parr tag-team the salty snack aisle, and Anne and Katherine head straight for the candy.

The six of them are content to snoop around for a few minutes, the only ones in the store save for the cashier, until the door opens.

That’s when everything goes horribly, horribly wrong.

There is a tiny bell over the door that chimes every time someone enters. The chime is deceivingly cheery.

So no one thinks anything of it.

Until they hear what the new customer says.

“Everythin’ in the register in the bag. Now.”

Jane’s blood runs cold. She and Aragon look to each other and slowly, very slowly, back into the next aisle to gather Cathy and Anna, then finally to the back corner with Anne and Kat.

“I’ll call the police!” The cashier yells.

There’s a terribly loud bang that shakes the ceiling. Whoever their mystery robber is, he’s shot off a warning shot, and the cashier suddenly has far less fight in him.

Aragon and Parr are clinging to each other, Anne is holding the trembling Kat, and Jane holds tight to Cleves’s hand as the six sinks to the floor and remains as silent and out of sight as possible.

“Money in the bag!” The robber repeats, a dangerous and cutting edge in his words.

They hear the register crash open, and they think they may just get out of this without him even knowing they’re there.

Well, that’s until Anne shifts ever so slightly how she was holding Katherine, causing her foot to just barely hit the bottom shelf of the unit.

She freezes, her eyes blown wide, and throws a hand over her mouth, as if that would do anything.

The world, as a whole, freezes for one, two, three heartbeats.

“Come on out,” he drawls. “It seems we have company.”

None of them move.

“Don’t be like that, unless you want to feel what this pistol can do.”

As much as they don’t want to, the six drag themselves to their feet and into the center aisle of the store. 

His smirk can be seen in his eyes.

“Well, well, if it isn’t the queens,” he remarks, taking a mocking bow. “How honored I am to be in your company.”

Katherine is full on trembling at this point, barely able to even hold herself upright. Anne’s arm is tight around her waist, Jane on her other side. Parr is half-hiding behind Aragon as her godmother stands fearlessly alongside Anna. 

“Let us go.”

Surprisingly, it’s Jane that speaks.

“But you six are key pieces now, I can’t just let you go.”

He points the gun in their direction and everyone stiffens.

“Knees, now.”

They do as told as he approaches, keeping the gun aimed firmly at Jane, then Aragon, then Cleves, then back to Jane.

“I think six queens make for a wonderful little ransom, don’t you all think?”

“You know who we are,” Anne quips, “means that you have a soft spot for girl bands. Or musical theater.” She snickers. “Quite the intimidating robber.”

The next gunshot is barely six inches from her ear.

“Next one goes through your chest,” he growls.

Anne swallows, but otherwise stays stoic.

“You,” he commands, the gun pointed at Cleves, “phone out. Call the police.”

Anna, as much as she hates herself for it, does as told. If she was alone, her stubbornness would have won. But she wouldn’t let Kitty see her blood.

She dials for the police and is answered almost immediately.

“I am being held hostage with five others,” she says clearly. “Six,” she amends, adding the cashier, shaking behind the counter.

Barely five minutes later, red and blue lights flash outside.

He smirks again, visible only in his eyes. In a fluid motion, he yanks Parr to his feet. “You’re going to be my little spokeswoman, Miss Parr.”

The pistol stays held to her head as she is brought to the door and stood in the threshold. 

“I am being held at gunpoint,” she tells the officers, repeating exactly what he is saying to her. “For the safe release of the six women and cashier, the robber asks for fifty thousand pounds.”

“And if we don’t?” One officer yells back.

There’s a pause.

“He’ll kill us off one by one.”

The officers look to each other. “You have one hour.”

Catherine Parr disappears from the doorway. She’s wrangled back to the others and all but thrown on the floor in front of Aragon, who pulls her close.

“You had all better hope they cooperate,” he says, and there’s an odd sort of cheeriness in his words. 

He claps his gun against his hand, then points it directly at Katherine. “You.”

With a very noticeable shake in her knees, she rises to her feet. He beckons her closer. 

“You know,” he says, “I’ve fantasized about you.”

The tremor in her body changes, and Jane nearly cries out as she realizes the implications. He winds an arm around her waist, his fingertips digging into her jean-covered hips, then pulls her out of view, in front of the first row of shelves.

There’s a rustling of fabric, and Anne can’t take it anymore. Before anyone can stop her, she rushes to follow.

“Stay away from my baby cousin!” She screams.

Jane and Anna scramble to their feet and barely see the end of the event. Anne tackles the man, who had Katherine pinned to the ground beneath him. As he slams into the ground, his gun clatters to the ground and discharges. 

Jane grabs it while Anna helps Katherine sit up. 

Anne groans as she hits the floor, sprawled on her side, and Jane points the gun at the robber. “Funny to be in this position again,” she muses to herself.

Aragon doesn’t let go of Parr as she moves to the door to bring in the officers. They detain the robber and drag him out of the store and disarm Jane, which she is more than happy to oblige to.

She hurries over to help Anne up.

“You did quite the heroics-”

It’s when Jane freezes mid-sentence that everyone is suddenly paying attention to her.

“Jane?”

She’s hunched over Anne, shaking.

“Jane!”

Aragon, with the gentlest hands, pulls Jane away from Anne, and she herself goes still at the sight.

A neat little hole, right over Anne’s heart, is torn through her clothes and soaked with blood. Anne’s last defiant yell, the one meant to save Kitty, remains burned to her lips and her eyes stay open, wide, angry, but unseeing. Even in death, in the second death, there’s a quiet fire in how Anne stays, how she will stay, how she will carry herself into whatever waits for her.

Katherine and Anna are inconsolable, and Parr, Jane, and Aragon can only cling to each other as they are brought to the ambulance to be checked for injuries.

Once cleared and wrapped in shock blankets, Cathy, Aragon, and Jane are brought over to the sidewalk to explain, to the best of their ability, what had happened. Anna and Katherine stay by one of the police cars, huddled together on the ground.

Parr, still shaken from behind held at gunpoint, tucks her head on Aragon’s shoulder and stares listlessly at the concrete.

Aragon and Jane take up the story, quietly narrating as much as possible. When they get to the moment of Anne’s heroic attack, fate, in its cruelest form of irony, has two paramedics bringing out a white-sheet covered stretcher.

And that exact moment is when Jane Seymour and Catherine of Aragon curl into each other and begin to sob.

A police officer has to drive them to their hotel, only a few miles down the road, since none of them can feasibly imagine driving, even Aragon.

They settle into their rooms, and Cleves is hopelessly alone. She was supposed to be rooming with Anne. Kat is with Jane and Parr with Aragon, and Cleves is on her own.

She steps onto the tiny balcony of the room, a frigidly cold breeze pouring through her hair and across her face, and she swears, just for a moment, that she hears Anne’s voice telling her to close the door because it was, ‘bloody freezing.’

But there is no Anne.

And there won’t be again.

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

tag list: @percabeth15 @kats-seymour @qualquercoisa945 @jane-fucking-seymour @a-slightly-cracked-egg @justqueentingz @annabanana2401 @wolfies-chew-toy @broad-way-13 @tvandmusicals @lailaliquorice @aimieallenatkinson @sweet-child-why03 @gaylinda-of-the-upper-uplands @funky-lesbians @thinkaboutitmaybe @hansholbeingoesaroundzeworld @anaamess @beeskneeshuh @prick-up-ur-ears @theartoflazy @justqueentwo @brother-orion @paleshadowofadragon @lafemmestars @beautifulashes17 @jarneiarichardnxel @idkimbadwithusernamesandstuff @ladiez-in-waiting @mixer1323 @boleynssixthfinger @aimieallen @elphiesdance @boleynthebunny @krystalhuntress @lupin-loves-chocolate @bellacardoza16 @bluify @katherines-choker

[har-rison-s]

Opposites

Request: hi, darling! i’m just wondering if i could request some freddie fluff where he ends up falling for innocent reader, someone completely different from his scene.

A/N: Oh my goodness, I LOVE this idea. Wonderful, wonderful, wonderful. Hope you like how I've written it out, love :))

Her family was well-known in London. They were aristocrates through generations, the family name, money and properties being the legacy for every new-born. Most of the family were men, and males were the common gender for the children born in the Montgomery family, but, come the end of the 1940s, and and many girls were born, including a special one named Y/N.

It's not a surprise that a girl is born, the mother and all other relatives being very happy with another soon-to-be leading woman being born. There just hasn't been a girl born since the nineteenth century, and it might be harder to adjust to a small girl running around business places and mansions. Sometimes the press get too hard on her, but all in all, she's fine living her aristocratic and rich life.

There's money, property, opportunities and attention in every direction pointed at her, but everything's really blank. Y/N feels like people think she's shallow, just like most of the people in her family, but she'd be willing to prove them wrong anytime. If her family allowed it.

She's always wearing skirts and blouses in strict measurements, having her hair done neatly and without a strand falling down. Y/N was taught to speak what you'd call the posh way, polite, understandable, and that's what she does. She was never late, always the best and brightest, the most beautiful and quiet one. Everyone liked her in the private school, she always won diplomas and certificates for her good grades, participating in social events and organisations. Teachers loved her and her university professors love her now. She's the practical princess of London's University, and her previous schools. 

What Mr and Mrs Montgomery would think if they found out that the up-coming rockstar called Freddie Mercury has fallen in love with their daughter, the promising soon-to-be business woman of 1970s London, would scare the singer right off. Or so they'd like to think. Freddie Mercury was not afraid of anything, not of showing his feelings and not afraid to show them. He just didn't tell Brian that he was hopelessly in love with a girl he follows around in his university.

A young man with dreams of becoming a pop star, coming from a working-class zoroastrian family plus an aristocratic business family girl that has her life figured out until the last day? That'd be outrageous. Imagine the newspaper articles! What would people say? It'd surely be in the news because her last name is one of the most popular ones in London, business and finances. A wedding would be the center of everyone's attention.

When he finally does meet her, their conversation is lovely, more than what Freddie would have hoped for. “Hello, sweetheart.” He says to her, approaching her at the university's library. She sits at a desk, reading a book on how to understand laws and court better. Her hair is swept up in a perfect bun and from the long hours already spent in the library, a few strands have fallen out around her cheeks and at the top of the bun. 

She's wearing a white blouse, the first few buttons undone due to the spring weather condition—it's almost twenty degrees in the air. The delicate wrist of her right hand is adorned by a thin-strapped watch and the index finger of that same right hand is decorated by a silver ring with a white gem. It probably costs a thousand pounds or more, Freddie thinks, raising his eyebrows.

Y/N turns her head to the speaker and smiles when she sees that it's the vibrant young man she's seen around school with the tall astrophysicist. He's way more extroverted than his science friend, and dresses in pretty and decorative clothing, also styling necklaces, earrings, bracelets, rings and painted nails. She loves how he dresses, but she won't admit it to anyone.

“Hello.” Y/N responds and puts her book down, placing a postcard from Italy in between the pages and closing it. “What are you doing here?” He doesn't go here, she knows that well. He studies design in another university, she's heard that from girls and boys around the campus. What would he be doing in her university's library? Maybe his university isn't big enough in repertoire.

The design boy shrugs and takes a seat next to her at the table. Y/N watches him, his hair hanging around his well-framed face as he gets comfortable in the chair. It's beautiful, really, the dark shade of his hair matches the colour and look of his eyes. “Looking for new acquaintances.” He replies and finally looks at Y/N. He almost loses his breath. He's never seen a more beautiful woman in his life. 

“At a regular university?” Y/N asks and chuckles. He smiles, but looks down, acting a bit shy. 

“You never know what you might find, even here,” he answers, “how is the studying going?”

Y/N shrugs. “It's alright. I'm not really studying anymore, just a bit of light reading.” She tells him. Freddie eyes the cover of the book and nods. 

“Are you going to be a lawyer? A judge?” He questions and Y/N immediately shakes her head, her beautiful bright eyes looking away from his. 

“This is just one of the books that I need for my future.” She says and sighs. She thinks for a moment about her own life, and he watches her as she does so. Y/N then huffs and looks back at the interesting stranger. She smiles wide. Someone interesting is talking to her, and she finds it great. “What's your name?” She asks and takes Freddie's hand between her elegant fingers. She traces them over all the bracelets and rings and notices the painted nails once again.

“Freddie.” He answers and Y/N looks up at him. 

“Freddie?” She echoes and the owner nods. Y/N smiles wide. “I think your name matches your persona.”

Freddie nods with a smile. “That's what I was going for.” He answers and the youngsters both chuckle quietly. “What's your name?” Freddie asks and his tone seems shy. Y/N watches him in thought, tilting her head to the side. She's trying to understand him, see him through his eyes. But he's so mysterious.

“It's Y/N.” She answers. “Nice to meet you, Freddie.” She smiles at him and they shake hands, which makes the both of them chuckle. “I like your nails. Do you paint them yourself?”

“Brian or Roger aren't any good at nail painting, so I have to do the honor.” Freddie answers and proudly leans up, his shoulders broad. Y/N nods and chuckles again. 

“Your friends?” She asks about the foreign names. Freddie nods.

“Band-mates, too.” He says. Y/N raises her eyebrows.

“You're in a band? That's exciting.” She admits and watches Freddie. She wonders what else lies behind the mystical character of this young man Freddie. 

“I'd say you weren't really the girl to come to shows,” Freddie starts and Y/N raises an eyebrow, “but would you like to see us sometime?”

Y/N looks away from Freddie and looks at her own hands. She draws in a deep breath and a nervous chuckle leaves her lips. “I—I can't, uh, be seen at pubs or—”

Freddie interrupts her with a shake of his head. He understands what she's worried about from her nervous facial expression and sudden fumbling of hands. “It's alright,” he places his hand over hers and makes Y/N look at him, “I understand, darling.”

Y/N nods and gives a thankful smile to Freddie. He falls in love with her even more in that moment, how she looks at him almost trustingly. A look of 'thank you' on her beautiful, delicate features. Afraid of being who she is. 

“Can you do... coffee, maybe?” Freddie asks quietly. Y/N chuckles, her head hanging down. She's so beautiful. 

“I could do that.” She answers. “Though I can't promise I won't be studying during our meeting.” Freddie raises his eyebrows and tilts his head from side to side, and Y/N smiles shyly. 

“It works for me, pretty girl.” Freddie says, nodding. Y/N chuckles at the nickname and blushes. He's making her blush, and it boosts his grand ego even more. 

“Does tomorrow at 5 work, too?” She asks.

“Yes. I'll be waiting for you at the entrance door.” He says and Y/N nods in response.

He left the library soon after, a wide smile on his face. The thought of having a date with the most beautiful girl has lifted him seven feet off the ground, and he can barely walk. But Freddie keeps his confident posture as he walks through the university's hallway until he finds the room Brian usually exploits for his late-at-night studying sessions. It's not really late, but Brian has some spare time to do extra studying. Freddie's not sure if he'll tell Brian about the girl that makes him feel like flying off the ground, but he knows that Brian will notice a difference in his behavior.

Y/N restarts to read her book on laws and justice, but can't help thinking of the so-wondrous Freddie who just talked with her. Why would someone so interesting and mesmerizing ever want to talk to her? She doesn't give off an interesting or mysterious feeling, the feeling that you have to work hard to figure her out. Everyone knows everything about her. But Freddie seems to be keen on talking with her and getting to know her, spending time with her. It's surprised her, but pleasantly. And she can't wait to talk to him properly, also hoping that she won't have any new projects or homeworks until 5pm tomorrow. That'd be one hell of a spoiler.

Permanent taglist:

@v0idbella @inlovewithmiddleagedcelebs @works-of-fanfiction @destiel-stucky4ever-loki-queen @stfxlou @ur-gunna-h8-ths @one-taylor-one-vision@empressdreams @betweenloveandfire @but-legendsneverdie @deardeacy @fvckyeahbenhardy 

Freddie taglist:

@lordofthebutterfliez

[verritytorres]

calron fake dating au - unfinished outline

THROUGHOUT ONE MONTH (OCTOBER 2017)

·      still not fully clear on why they fake date but we getting there

o   call announces it for shits n giggles at a party on Thursday night (drunk? to celia the gossip queen?) then morning after everyone’s like “oh congrats on finally dating aaron btw!” “what”

o   aaron’s pissed at first cause that’s actually a shitty thing to do also he’s been pining for going on two years now do u have any idea what this does to his Heart

o   that is, until something happens that convinces him

§  some bully fuckers in the locker room after soccer practice like “who we gonna get today, chad?” “well everyone in here is off limits so--” aaron chimes in “what do you mean… off limits” “look youre a respectable guy so we treat you right, always have. teammates honor and all that. so we get at other people instead” (cue Dark Aaron) “and who are these other people” “that scrawny guy hunt for example” “oh, you mean call hunt my boyfriend?” “your…what?” “you heard me. if you fuck with him, you and I might have a problem. and nobody wants that.”

§  later, aaron texts call “I’m in.”

§  “sweet. what changed ur mind?” “That’s not important.”

·      the only person that knows is tamara bc helou its tamara they don’t keep secrets from each other

o   STUDY SESSION AT THE GABLES FRIDAY AFTERNOON (they all in the same regular algebra class cause theyre gay and therefore not great at math):

§  t: yo btw have you guys dealt with the whole “youre dating” rumor? if anyones been giving you a hard time tell me so I can eliminate them off the face of the earth

§  c: actually, aaron and I are just gonna roll with it

§  t: wait. youre actually gonna date?

§  c: NO no no no we’re gonna fake date. scam the fuck outta the school also it’s a bit too awkward to go back on it now for me so

§  t: (turns and gives aaron a Look cause she knows this fuckers been pining forever) are YOU on board with this?

§  a: (busies himself with his hw to hide his blush) yeahsurewhynot

§  t: (looks up and shakes her head) this is gonna end badly, calling it now

o   t: math is acephobic. im asexual and its inconveniencing me

·      Saturday! aaron goes over to the hunt household to hang out like he usually does

o   alastair loves him

o   alastair: so when did this happen?

o   call, who is sitting knee-to-knee w aaron on the couch like he always does: when did what happen

o   alastair: (gives him a Look) the watsons came in this morning. Brenda told me the news, im just surprised you didn’t tell me

o   call:…..what news…….

o   alastair: you two are dating, right? which im totally fine with btw, i had a boyfriend back then too, and im really happy for you, youre both mature enough that I don’t have to give the whole speech—

o   call and aaron are looking at each other in Horror

o   call: OKAY THANKS DAD WE’RE GONNA WALK HAVOC NOW BYE (nyooms outta the house with aaron and havoc in tow)

o   out in the park

§  c: so I guess we gotta find out how to sell this whole (gestures between himself and aaron) thing

§  a: (snorts) thing?

§  c: yeah thing. if my hermit dad knows, then we can assume just about everyone in town knows too. which is not the idealest

§  a: why’s that?

§  c: cause then we gotta act all coupley to everyone or else they’ll be like “wait a minute…are they really dating??”

§  a: well, not with everyone. tamara knows

§  c: yeah, that’s one person in a whole townful of people

§  a: we spend the majority of our time with tamara though

§  c:….point. we still gotta sell it to everyone else

§  a: it cant be that hard, just hold hands a little here, drop some compliments there

§  in reality aaron doesn’t wanna do Big Couple Things or else he might literally spontaneously combust. its possible, hes read abt it

§  c: oh come on, no one gonna buy that. we gotta pull out all the stops

§  a: (cursing silently) like?

§  c: hugs. general lack of personal space. kiss on the cheek, maybe. pet names.

§  a: (calming his crazy heart) oh. I see.

§  c: as long as youre alright with it, of course! I don’t wanna do some creeper shit and like accidentally assault you

§  a: nonono I get it im alright with it. (pause) we should uh..have some signal, though

§  c: signal?

§  a: in case one of us goes too far or something. nothing too obvious, but just obvious for us to notice

§  c: hm. ok, how bout asshole?

§  a: (bursts out laughing) asshole????

§  c: (grinning) yeah, asshole. I never call you an asshole, you never call me an asshole. so if you say “youre a bit clingy there, asshole” I know I should back off

§  a: that- that hardly sounds affectionate

§  c: well duh you gotta say it in an affectionate way. like this (sticky sweet voice, batting eyelashes) “asshole”

§  a: (still laughing) okay. asshole it is.

§  theyre both quiet ntil aaron speaks up. “I do have one request”

§  “which is?”

§  “this is gonna sound weird, please don’t ask but…don’t kiss me. not unless I tell you to.”

§  call looks at him like ??? then says “sure, man. nix on smooches. you wish you had a taste of these bad boys, though.”

§  aaron turns away bc hes a blushy boi. “youre making it weird.”

·      Monday rolls in

o   call is in Zombie Mode making himself coffee on his antique expensive coffee machine (the best Christmas gift ever thanks alastair)

o   alastair, making pancakes: shouldn’t you bring an extra to school today?

o   sleepy call, pouring himself a solid triple shot of espresso: whaddya mean

o   alastair: if youre gonna be dating aaron, you gotta treat him right. bring out the big guns, you know

o   call, suddenly wide awake: what????

o   alastair: I will not have that boy deprived of real boyfriend privileges

o   so call leaves his house with two coffee cups

o   he walks over to where he knows aaron is at the time (music room, playing piano)

o   before he heads in he looks inside and just. stares at aaron playing the piano. gay descriptions galore

o   aaron hits a wrong key and swears

o   c: well that’s a big word

o   a: (practically jumps out of his seat, swearing again)

o   c: and that’s an even bigger one

o   a: oh, its you. good morning, call

o   c: morning, snookums

o   a: (smiling tentatively) snookums? is that really the best you can do

o   c: that’s just scratching the surface, and also its Monday morning so im not at my peak. anyway i brought you coffee

o   a: thanks. already “pulling out all the stops” I see

o   c: I plan to be an especially doting boyfriend (glances at the door, sees a few people staring at them) I..gotta get to my locker (kisses his cheek, aaron goes rigid, call whispers at his ear) we got an audience. see you at lunch

o   aaron sits there for a while after call leaves staring at the ceiling and asking himself why

·      lunch in the magisterium high caf

o   jasper: I JUST—I STILL DON’T GET IT

o   aaron, biting calmly at his sandwich: what don’t you get

o   jasper: there are at LEAST a dozen guys in this school ready and willing to go out with you and you go with CALL

o   call, resting his head on Aarons shoulder, much to Aarons chagrin: its ok dude you can just say youre jealous

o   jasper: YEAH A LITTLE. Aarons like…the best catch out here. the golden boyfriend. the guy that would tell your parents “yes sir ill have him back by nine thirty sharp :)”

o   aaron: I wouldn’t say that to alastair

o   call: yeah you would (turning back to jasper) who are these dozen guys? I gotta know whos planning to fight me so I can know their weaknesses beforehand

o   jasper: kai hale, for one

o   aaron: hmm. he is kinda cute

o   call: HEY

o   jasper: definitely cuter than hunt

o   aaron: is there something particularly wrong with call?

o   jasper: OPEN YOUR EYES HES A TRASH MAN

o   call: takes one to know one

o   aaron, shrugging and finishing his sandwich: maybe I like trash men

o   call laughing his ass off, jasper groaning: youre killing me, stewart. youre literally causing my cells to stop functioning

·      study hall w aaron and tamara

o   t: (has been frowning at him for the past 10 mins)

o   a: okay you clearly want to talk about something so out with it

o   t: are you sure about this thing with call?

o   a: what, the dating thing?

o   t: the fake dating thing

o   a: right. its fake. yeah im fine

o   t: we both know that’s a lie, aaron. we don’t lie to each other

o   a: (sardonically) yeah well. ive been lying to him since we were freshmen

o   t: having a crush isn’t lying, per se, but that’s besides the point. im worried about you, man. I don’t want call to hurt you accidentally, and then consequently be hurt himself by not knowing how he hurt you, cause then ILL be hurt by best friend collateral drama

o   a: I get it, tamara

o   t: then I reiterate: are you sure about this?

o   big internal monologue

o   a: yeah. im sure.

·      INSERT SLOW BURN

·      CARNIVAL

o   it’s the fall festival since its October theres pumpkins everywhere and haunted houses and candied apples and hay bales and rides and its lit

o   the iron trio+jasper go always

o   theyre walking around, aaron looking at the decorations, tamara call and jasper arguing abt which haunted house to visit first

o   c: the mansion is the obvious choice just sayin

o   j: but theres a haunted hospital ffs

o   c: ive been in enough hospitals to know for a fact that they are all haunted so that doesn’t excite me as much as a MANSION

o   t: how bout…we happy medium at…the graveyard one

o   a: how bout we don’t go to any of those and just go to the roller coasters instead

o   t: aaron, I love you, but youre a weenie sometimes. you can wait outside if you don’t wanna go

o   a: im not leaving you guys alone! (catches calls eye, glances at jasper, call nods a lil, aaron drapes his arm round calls shoulders) who am I to let my boyfriend into that scary place alone?

o   c: (smiling and rolling his eyes) its not that scary, but I appreciate the offer, sugar

o   aaron? oh yes he is dead

o   j: (GAG) youre going to give me diabetes with all these sweets

o   t: (mischievous smile) I dunno, jasper. ever since they started dating they’ve been acting kinda the same as always

o   aaron Tenses, call raises an eyebrow at him then turns to tamara

o   c: what were you expecting, rajavi? showers of pda everywhere?

o   t: oh come on, if any one of us is going to be That Couple its you two.

o   a: LOOK THERES CARAMEL APPLES OVER THERE (nyoom)

o   turns out the haunted whatevers are not open yet, they open at nightfall, so they head to the roller coasters

o   surprise surprise call hates roller coasters

o   “if I die I want you all to know that you are not written into my will therefore I owe you nothing”

o   hes clinging to aaron the whole ride and aaron is like if theres a god up above…….

o   then they reach the hay bales and jaspers like “im gonna head over to the bumper boats w tamara you guys can wait here or do whatever I guess”

o   “we’re just fine going with you guys??”

o   jasper looks at call weirdly and says “um, no youre not. you lovebirds need some alone time. get your 10 things I hate about you on in these haystacks.”

o   they get redder than the ripest tomatoes

o   t: UHHH HES RIGHT BYE GUYS (N Y O O M)

o   they just stand there awkwardly for a while when call says “wanna head over to the carnival games” “please”

o   they walk over to the game area in a kinda uncomf silence until aaron breaks it

o   “what did jasper mean by 10 things I hate about you?”

o   call stares at him “are you serious right now”

o   aaron looks at him meaningfully

o   “oh my god. oh my god. have you never watched 10 things???”

o   “no?”

o   “oh my god. dude. its just like star wars all over again. we’re watching it, no excuses.”

o   aaron smiles at him “okay. whats it about?”

o   “well if I tell you that ruins the whole goddamn surprise, doesn’t it, pumpkin?”

o   he laughs. “it does, doesn’t it.”

o   they get to the carnival game: the hammer game. the biggest prize is a huge stuffed monkey

o   aaron turns to call grinning and calls like “you do know this game’s rigged right. theres no way you can win.”

o   but of course. aaron wins.

o   call is just gaping at him and whispers “you fucking beefcake you.”

o   aaron says “here’s your prize, boyfriend” and fucking winks

o   is call dying? we don’t know this aint his pov

o   c: it looks like you

o   a: thanks

o   call suddenly looks behind aaron with wide eyes and grabs Aarons hand so Aarons brain goes like WHAT…..

o   “heads up,” call whispers, “group of classmates at eight o clock”

o   AY ILL KEEP WRITING LATER GOTTA ACTUALLY START OR ELSE I NEVER WILL

·      call and tamara have always attended every one of aaron’s soccer games, but for some reason this one felt different

o   theyre cheering frm the side with their banners as always (banners say STEWART FOR SOCCER GOD and LUCKY NUMBER 8 and most recently THAT’S MY BOYFRIEND!!! maybe that last one makes this different)

o   its also rainy as heck the banners had to be laminated this time (do not underestimate being friends w a rich kid)

o   they both in they raincoats while Aarons in full soccer gear in the RAIN rifp

o   but the team is falling behind so theyre like FUK OUR CHEERING ISNT WORKING WHAT WE DO

o   at halftime

§  t: lets get the fuck down there we gotta give him a pep talk

§  c: what r we gonna say

§  t: HELL IF I KNOW LETS JUST DO IT

§  so they head down to where aaron is sitting, drinking from his water bottle

§  c: cant you just tilt your head back and stick your tongue out in this weather

§  t: shut up. aaron we are here to peptalk you. (INSERT PEPTALK IDK HOW TO PEP)

§  exit tamara

§  a: (wince) we’re that bad today, are we

§  c: yeah youre kinda sucking

§  a: well that’s not the supportive boyfriend comment I expected

§  c: doting. I said I was going to be doting, not supportive. and definitely not a liar

§  a: whatever. tamara’s pep talk helped, so I guess ill get my head in the game

§  coach rockmaple blows his whistle for the team huddle. aaron salutes call with two fingers before standing up to go and then call blurts “ice cream. on me. if you win the game, that is.”

§  aaron stares at him and then smiles. “you’re on.”

§  TEAM MAKES A HUGE COMEBACK AND WINS THE GAME!!!

§  everyones celebrating and grinning and cheering and call catches aarons eye and theyre smiling, smiling, smiling, and suddenly call finds himself right in front of aaron and aaron is cupping his face and its raining and it sounds like something out of a movie and his face is so close and aaron’s freckles are covered in droplets and so are his lashes and call never really thought about it but if he leaned in, tilted his head just a bit, they would be kissing, and call could pass it off as having an audience—

§  aaron pulls call’s face towards him and kisses his forehead, leaning his head to call’s ear to say “you owe me an ice cream.”

§  and call’s heart all but leaps from his body, he feels lightheaded, and aaron looks fucking beautiful like this, his eyes alight with triumph and joy and something else

§  he doesn’t think till he gets home that wanting to kiss aaron for real wasn’t part of the plan.

·      they first kiss at a party cause everyones like KISS KISS KISS so call (lightly drunk) cups Aarons cheek and leans in. aaron.exe has crashed is not working holy fuck this is the best thing ever and all those gay ass descriptors. everyone cheers in the bg

o   call is dronk, aaron is driving him home, call is being supper chattery and super flirty (think: drunk Laurent)

o   alastair is sleeping so aaron has to make sure call is quiet when going to his room

o   a: (a lil breathless cause hes basically carrying call) be quiet, your dad is sleeping right there

o   c: (winking with both eyes) what do I get in returnnnnn

o   a: oh my god

o   aaron finally gets him to his bed, drapes him on it and tucks him in, hes about to lean away when call grabs his shirt collar to keep him there

o   “aren’t you gonna give your fake boyfriend a proper goodnight?”

o   AARON.EXE HAS CRASHED HE IS DEAD HE IS GONE GOODBYE

o   “youre drunk. i—we can’t—youre not yourself right now. goodnight.”

o   “mm. alright. you owe me a kiss, though.”

o   aaron huffs. he cant breathe right. and just because its 3 am and hes feeling reckless after kissing him tonight and call’s just about asleep and he probably wont remember this in the morning, he whispers, “sure.”

·      THE BREAK

o   Aarons leaning on his kitchen counter, trying to look casual but ultimately failing. call has a sneaking suspicion as to why hes acting this weird but by god he will not say it. its too embarrassing on its own.

o   “so.” aaron says. “you kissed me last night.”

o   fuck. dammit. “did i?”

o   “yeah, in the middle of the party. everyone was watching.”

o   call spots himself a loophole and hell if he doesn’t take it. “sweet. looks like drunk me was up for a show.”

o   “what do you mean?”

o   “well, it was a full party. this whole thing is build on other people believing we’re together

o   “’sides. it’s all just fake anyway.”

o   aaron stops, his hands fists. “right,” he croaks. “its all fake.”

o   “dude…you okay?”

o   “yeah. yeah im fine.”

o   “don’t lie to me aaron, i can see youre upset. spit it out.”

o   aaron takes a deep breath and quickly says “is it really all fake?”

o   call freezes. his mind replays last week’s game, and the subsequent breakdown he had because he likes aaron. and fuck. fuck. he swore he was being quiet about it.

o   “yeah,” he says after a while, forcing the words out. “it was always fake, that’s the idea.”

o   “lately, it hasn’t felt fake.”

o   call’s stomach drops. “if you ever needed to stop you could’ve just said—“

o   Aarons eyes are closed. “last night didn’t feel fake.”

o   because it wasn’t, because im a shitty human who fell for you and since I did this has all been horrible self indulgence, because I like you and you don’t like me.

o   “well it was, so I don’t know why youre making such a big deal out of it.”

o   call hates the things that come out of his mouth.

o   something in aaron seems to catch fire, his eyes fly open and he’s angry, call has barely ever seen him angry at him. “it’s a big deal for me, you kissed me”

o   “I didn’t—I didn’t mean to!”

o   “then if you didn’t mean to, why did you!”

o   calls head is spinning, he doesn’t know what hes doing at this point. “I was drunk, aaron, people fuck up when theyre drunk”

o   “I told you not to kiss me, but you went and did it anyway, do you have any idea how that felt—“

o   “I don’t, aaron, because I don’t feel the things you feel!”

o   aaron freezes completely, his eyes wide

o   “right. I forgot. sorry. right.”

o   theyre quiet, and call knows he fucked up. he doesn’t know exactly how, but he knows.

o   “I…I gotta go. bye.”

o   aaron slams the door behind him, call hears the car door slam and aaron driving away before he manages to whisper “wait”

o   but its too late. hes alone.

o   well, not alone. havoc noses his waist and looks up at him with huge, worried eyes.

o   “come on, boy. lets go for a walk.”

o   he ends up at the park—the same park he first discussed the thing with aaron. he sits down under a tree and rests his head on his knees, havoc cuddling up to him.

o   he kind of drifts off, loses track of time. his mind is kinda blank right now. he knows that’s probably a shitty coping mechanism but what the fuck can you do.

o   he doesn’t want to do anything right now. he doesn’t want to deal with anything or anyone right now.

o   he doesn’t want to feel anything, because feeling is what got him into this mess in the first place.

o   he’s so wrapped up in his personal void that he doesn’t hear the footsteps behind him until he hears jasper say “you look miserable.”

o   call doesn’t look up. “fuck off, jasper.”

o   he does not fuck off. instead call hears leaves crunching  as jasper sits down next to him.

o   “he’s at tamara’s. been there for the past hour.”

o   “didn’t ask.”

o   “but you wanted to know.” calls quiet at this.

[tw-fandom-imagines]

Victoria Cant Keep A Secret

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Request-scott imagine where reader is a famous victoria secret model who moves to beacon hills but scott is the only guy who doesn't want ur body so reader goes out with him and the school is all like wtf why go out with me instead

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I took a deep breath, walking into my new school. I moved here just over a week ago because my parents wanted me to live a little bit of normal life, after being in a Victoria Secret show. I'm the youngest model to walk the runway and it was a dream come true but I would belying if I said that I didn't miss my simple life. So we found a small town in California and hoped for the best. I was getting nothing but stares as soon I walked into the school, and I sighed slightly as a few guys nudged each other and looked at me as if I walked on water. I looked down at the small piece of paper with my locker number on it and walked down the hall to try and find it. I finally found my locker after passing it about three times. I put my combo in and the lock stayed locked.

"Just my luck." I mumbled under my breath before someone walked over to me, causing me to lookup from my locker combo and saw a rather cute boy, just about my age. I looked over his shoulder to see two guys staring at me and then at the boy standing in front of me.

"Having trouble with your locker?" He said and I just nodded, smiled slightly.

"I haven't needed to use a locker in over a year, I'm probably just doing it wrong." I said causing the boy to chuckle and the slip out of my hands and try to unlock my locker. I looked back at his group of friends and waved with a small smile causing both of them to scatter and bump into each other, knowing that they were spotted, making me laugh. I heard my locker open, my head snapping around with a smile on my face.

"Thank you so much." I said as he handed me my locker combo sheet back. He nodded and put his hand out for me to shake.

"I'm Scott, Scott McCall." He said as I shook his hand and nodded.

"I'm (Y/N), (Y/N) (Y/L/N)." I responded as we broke our handshake and I took out my class schedule and grabbed the binders that I needed for my first two classes. I wasn't going to just assume Scott knew he was, but his friends sure did. Scott took a peak at my schedule and pointed behind me.

"Chemistry is behind you, I take it you are new here. it looks like we have lunch and last period together." He said, the first bell interrupting him.

"Look for me at lunch, you can meet my friends!" He said jogging away, to make it to his first period class. I nodded and waved slightly before turning around and walking towards Chemistry, hoping that everyone would be as helpful as Scott was.

*Scott's Point Of View*

I ran into History just before Mr. James shut the door, finding Stiles with a seat saved next to him. I sat down next to him and he looked at me with a big and wide smile and raising his eye brows at me. As Mr. James began to teach the first lesson the year Stiles leaned closer to me.

"How amazing was she?" He asked causing me to look at him with a strange smile and a small chuckle. The new girl (Y/N) was cute and she seemed like someone that would fit in well with the group but I noticed a lot of the guys were staring at her, and acting strangely around her.

"Scott, do you even know who you just talked to?" Stiles asked me causing me to raise an eyebrow in confusion. He slammed his head on his desk and pulled his phone out and passing it to me. I made sure the volume was muted and read the YouTube video title, it said 'Victoria Secret best of the best' I looked at Stiles and he just pointed to the phone. Only Stiles would want me to look at half naked girls in the middle of History class. I was about to give Stiles his phone back when (Y/N) appeared on the screen, walking down the runway, angle wings big and heavy. My chin nearly fell to the floor, I had no idea but now I had an ide of why the while school was lusting after her.

*Your Point Of View*

I met a beyond nice girl in Chemistry class, her name was Lydia, we talked about Victoria Secret of course but she also walked to know about more than that like, where I lived before all of this, and she was in two of my classes as well as lunch. I told her about my encounter with Scott and she told me she new him and that she would sit with us as lunch as well. She said they were a big group, I believe pack as the word she used to describe them. Lydia and I got looks every where we went, and i only really stopped freaking out when we walked into the lunch room, hoping that because it was such a big amount of people, that I wouldn't really get noticed. Lydia spotted Scott and a small group of people at a round table and pulled me over there.

"Behave gentlemen." Lydia said as the both of sat down. I saw the two boys that were staring at me while i was talking to Scott and smiled at both of them.

"I know you two know who I am, I saw you two when I was talking to Scott." I said and the both gulped and nodded.

"That is Stiles and Liam" Lydia said pointing to each boy making me just nod and look over at Scott, he was already looking at me like all the other boys were now, but he soon just shook his head.

"(Y/N) can I talk to you for a second?" Scott asked making me nod and stand up and walk towards the side door of the cafeteria, i pushed the door open to walk around the empty hallways, with Scott by my side.

"I didn't know who you were when I talked to you this morning, Stiles told me who you were in first period. I think you are really pretty don't get me wrong, but I didn't walk over to you with the sole purpose to drool over you, not that I'm drooling, oh god, I'm just going to stop talking." He rambled making me smile and laugh.

"Are you nervous?" I asked causing him to rub the back of his neck and nod slightly.

"I'm not normally like this." He said making me nod and look down at my feet as we walk around. Scott seemed to only have good intentions, unlike all the other guys I've meet since this Victoria Secret thing happened. Maybe moving here will be better than I thought.

**

I've been living in Beacon Hills for over  a month now and Scott and I have now been dating for two weeks, we have been on a date every night in those two weeks and he have yet to kiss and I'm starting to think that he just doesn't see me that way. There have been quite a few times when we have almost kissed and he just always ends up pulling away or changing the subject. I knew Scott didn't want me for my body, we talk about so much and we connect on so many levels but maybe he isn't interested in my body at all. Lydia and I were sitting in the bleachers, watching the boys at the lacrosse practice.

"I think you should just plant one on him." she said with a small shrug and sighed. Everyone thinks all models are super confident and that's not always the case. I'm confident to a fault but I'm also shy when it comes to certain things and I'm not even sure if Scott feels the same way I do, maybe he is just being nice. Two tall figures walking over to Lydia and I broke my train of thought and we looked up to see two guys in Lacrosse jerseys.

"Listen we love Scott and all because he part of the team and a great team member at that but why him? You could literally have anyone in the whole school." The tall, tan blonde boy said causing me to just shake my head while Lydia leaded back and watched the train wreck in front of her. I stood up to see Stiles blocking Scott with his arm, as if he was holding Scott back from walking over to Lydia and I.

"Does everyone think this?" I asked him and both him and his friend nodded.

"Pretty much the whole school." He said making me take a deep breath and I looked down at Lydia before pushing both boys aside and walking in between them and over Scott and Stiles. As I got closer to them, Stiles took his arm off of Scott and Scott took a step towards me.

"(Y/N)-" Scott started but I cut him off by shaking my head and cupping his face in my hands and kissing him softly. He paused at first, dropping his helmet to the ground, but a few seconds later his hands gripped my hips and deepened the kiss. My hands slid off his face and I wrapped them around the back of his neck, causing Stiles to let out a whistle and Lydia let out a slight cheer that this was finally happening. My heart fluttered with every passing second but when the kiss finally broke, both Scott and I were smiling widely. I looked over at Lydia where the two boys were standing, who were both shaking their heads and walking away.

"They were right you know?" Scott said causing me to look at him, still in our embrace.

"You could date anyone in the school and I'm honored that you chose me. I didn't kiss you for as long as I did because I didn't want you to think that it was all I wanted you for when it's so much more than that." He said making me smile and nod, placing a finger on his lips.

"I know, shut up McCall." I said kissing him once again, knowing practice would start again, and knowing that I'm dating  guy who cares about me, model or not. 

[felinehypocritical]

Feel free to ignore if you don't ship these two or if it's not specific enough but Ben/Bev post-book HCs?

okk!! ill try my best. and dw i love benverly im a huuuuge multishipper… ill write anything besides like eddie and richie w girls!

(and guys heres ur daily reminder i have an ao3 and share most of my fics on there! im slowly and sporadically copying all my longer, more prosey writing onto there for all to see so itd be a big help and an easier way to view my fics if you went on there!! im also not only a shipping pair writer. i also write friendships, enmity, any dynamic and type of story. fluff and angst, ill do any of it besides nsfw. feel free to request anything! but keep in mind, im in school and i have a very intensive workload because i take all honors classes possible, so i will not be working on fics as often as i will headcanons. you will have better luck with headcanons, yall!)

-okay so bev and ben share their first kiss in the front seat of ben’s newly-bought red convertible cadillac. ben’s driving, slow and easy, and beverly just leans over and kisses him on the cheek. ben smiles into it, before he shifts so that beverly leans in front of him and presses a kiss onto his lips, her hair grazing his lap as she twists her head. ben barely manages to pull over he’s shaking so badly, and they both look at eachother in surprise and shock, before lapsing into crazy laughter.

they’d survived.

-they stay in many hotel rooms as the road trip their way to california. they’ve agreed to meet richie there, though neither can quite remember why; were they old friends in high school? college buddies? ben and richie were boy scouts together? or was that stanley?

-in every hotel room, one thing is the same- ben runs his hands through beverly’s long, thick red hair, and he breathes a sigh of relief that he’ll never fully get out of his system. she’ll always be laying on his stomach, and she’ll ask something like, “do you feel like we’re missing something?” and ben mumbles back, “i don’t feel like i’m missing anything when i’m here.” and here doesn’t really mean much- here just means where beverly is. here always meant where beverly is.

and yes, he does feel like he’s missing something.

-ben can hardly bear to look at himself sometimes; being with beverly reminds him of childhood, and childhood was ugly, childhood was hard, childhood was fat. he was fat. and he’ll look in the mirror with beverly next to him and he’ll see how he used to be when he was fifteen, and he feels like he’s about to throw up. he gets lightheaded, and it reminds him of all the runs he took, the runs he still takes. but beverly knows, she always can sense it, and she’ll murmur in his ear and trace over his many stretch marks and scars and all the loose skin- because no one told ben about that when they told him about getting thin, you still have so much extra skin on you that it still feels like you’re fat; he supposes that’s why it’s called a tummy tuck. but bev skims her hands over it and all over his back, because god, even his back was fat, and she’ll sometimes go other places that he can’t even think of without getting lightheaded, and she’ll smile and her eyes gleam like her anklet used to, and ben feels himself snap back to this reality.

-ben’s asked her about that anklet before. on the way out of bangor, actually, he caught a glimpse of her gold earrings, and he asked shyly, “what happened to your anklet?” and beverly looked at him curiously, before her eyes cleared and she laughed and leaned back. “i hardly even remember that thing, ben,” she said. “well, i gave it to my mother before i got married, i think, in a box of old stuff that tom insisted i get rid of. he hated that thing.” she took a drag from her cigarette. “i loved it,” ben offered. “it was one of the first things i noticed about you.” “and what was the very first?” beverly asked. ben smiled wistfully. “your hair,” he offered instantly, “and the way it lit up every corner of your desk when it draped over it and the sun went through it.” beverly smiled and hit his arm, and they drove on.

-”what was the first thing you thought about me?” ben asked quietly one night while beverly lay across his chest in their newly-owned bed, playing with his sleeve. “i thought, ‘my god, those boys are gonna eat him alive’,” beverly said after a thought. “and you?” he smiled again, this time almost too wide for his face and he remembered.

“beverly marsh, the first thing i thought when i saw you was that i had finally prayed enough and god had brought an angel to earth for me.”

he hummed the first lines of earth angel, until beverly’s smooth, honey-coated voice rose above his quiet rhythm and they began a duet in their beautiful penthouse apartment.

-they listen to all too much fifties doo-wop: the skyliners, bobby vee and bobby darin, the del-vikings, the crew cuts, the penguins, the drifters, the moonglows,  all the hits. beverly knows every appropriate dance move, and ben knows every line.

-beverly even finds an old poodle skirt, and four or five petticoats, at a vintage emporium. she can just squeeze into them, and she does, just for ben. he practically has steam coming out of his ears he’s so red, just the image of beverly in a sock hop outfit just for him coming true before his eyes enough for him to feel flustered.

-they never end up meeting with richie. he’s too busy and they’re too busy (though not really), and they never see him again. they talk to him on the phone a lot, though, and hear him on their radio, and sometimes they’ll turn it on to hear richie’s voice saying “now, this ain’t the oldies station, but i’d like to play a song for you from my childhood that a friend of mine, uh, really liked for his sweetheart. i hope you all don’t mind too much.” and there, sure and sugar, are the opening lines to earth angel:

“earth angel, earth angelwill you be minemy darling dear,love you all the time,i’m such a foola fool in love with you…”

and beverly marsh and ben hanscom can dance again.