#(it’s bookshelves he makes her a bookshelf)

[balladeersbell]

bsd prediction: tanizaki transfers to the mafia. the family naomi is a part of is mori’s.

[myglassesareinkansas]

Anyways I’m now emotional thinking about how Bryce celebrates Casey’s birthday and how each year, as he grows in love with her, his gifts get more and more thoughtful even though it’s the bottom on the list of love languages for him

[munsonsmixtapes]

Make it Real

summary: your best friend Tyler finds your smutty books and offers to help make your fantasies a reality

cw: MDNI (18+) smut (p in v) choking, spanking

based on this request by @thespillingvoid

Tyler had somehow beat you to your apartment, which never happened on nights you worked. He knew you wouldn’t mind so he let himself in, knowing exactly where the key was hidden. The two of you were supposed to have a movie night and had gotten there first which never seemed to happen.

He had never been in your apartment alone, so he took the opportunity to snoop, knowing that you wouldn’t have cared if he went through your stuff.

He went to your desk in the kitchen and sat down at it, opening the middle drawer to see a small notebook along with a container filled with highlighters, pens, and markers. There were also some bookmarks and a stack of unopened packages of tabs.

Tyler grabbed the notebook and set it down on the desk before opening it to the first page to see a small photo of a book cover. Next to it were five stars and only three of them were colored in. So that was how you tracked what you read.

But he couldn’t help but notice a group of five peppers underneath the stars. Only two of them were colored in and he wondered what they signified. This seemed to be a whole new world he had entered since reading had never been his thing.

He made a beeline for your room, wanting to look at your bookshelf since you never seemed to let him any time he came over. What could you have been hiding? It couldn’t have been that bad, could it? After all, it was just a bunch of words on pages, right?

Tyler let his eyes scan over your many bookshelves, wanting to find the perfect one to read. They were all organized very neatly and he was not trying to ruin that in any way since he had helped you put them on once he had the shelves built.

He just wanted to know why you were hiding them from him even though he knew it was wrong.

His gaze fell on one that had a very intriguing title and he plucked it from the shelf and noticed that there were many tabs in it. He flipped to one of the pages and noticed that one of them had a highlighted paragraph. His eyes glanced over it and he felt his cheeks heat as he realized what he was reading. It was titled “Rev My Engine” so he didn’t know why he was surprised by what was inside.

“It seems that you need to be taught a lesson,” Sam told Eliana as he grabbed hold of her throat, giving it a gentle squeeze. His fingers were pumping in and out of her cunt, feeling it getting even wetter as his grip tightened. He had her right where he wanted her and she seemed to be into it considering how her eyes were glazed over.

“What the fuck?” He whispered to himself, confused, but simultaneously intrigued by what was on the page. That didn’t surprise him, but what did was that you, sweet, innocent- seeming you had been reading something so…filthy.

Tyler sat down on the edge of your bed and flipped back to the first page to see how the couple had gotten to that point. Even though he didn’t read much, he had to admit that his interest was piqued. He was so invested, in fact, that he hadn’t even heard you come in. It wasn’t until he heard you clear your throat that he remembered where he was.

“What are you doing?” You asked, setting your purse down by the door and Tyler felt his cheeks burn as he had been caught.

“I was just-“ he tried to come up with an excuse, but it was deemed useless as he was still holding the book.

“You were just what, Tyler?” You marched over to him to take the book from his hand, but he held it out of your grasp, a shit-eating grin on his lips.

“I haven’t finished it. You can have it back when I’m done, darlin’.” He then stood from the bed and moved to the door, racing out of it and into the hallway.

You followed, hot on his heels as you heard his laughs echoing down the hallway. He got to the living room and stood on the couch, holding it completely out of your reach even when you had climbed up with him.

“I had no idea you were into this kind of stuff, y/n,” he teased. “I mean, you’re so shy and innocent, but I should have guessed since it always seems to be the quiet ones.”

Your cheeks were now burning with embarrassment. You knew that Tyler was just teasing, but you still couldn’t help but feel embarrassed. People had always been weird about you reading that kind of content, but what they didn’t know was that you mostly sought it out because real men couldn’t seem to please you so you had to take matters into your own hands.

“I do have a question for you though,” he said, flipping through the pages. “Why read this, when you could have the real thing?”

You leaned close to him, reaching for the book, but you still couldn’t get to it. Your body was now pressed to his and if you could feel how hard he was, you didn’t say anything.

“Tyler, I’ve told you all about my sex life and I’m not really comfortable-”

“No-” he interrupted. “I mean, why not have the real thing…with me?” You froze in that moment, staring up at him with wide eyes, your mouth agape.

You let go of him, his question finally setting in. He wanted to sleep with you? Was this only because he had found your book or had he actually been wanting to sleep with you and this was the best way for him to bring it up?

“With you?” You asked and he nodded, hopping down from the couch before offering you his hand. You hesitantly took it and it was like electricity was shooting through you. You were now suddenly aware of how soft but rough his hand was.

“Yes,” he nodded, his green eyes boring into yours. “With me. If you want to. No pressure.”

You thought about it for a second, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth and Tyler watched you, finding himself wanting to be the one to bite down on it and he kissed you until you were both breathless.

“Okay,” you nodded. “Let’s do this.”

Without a word, Tyler grabbed you by the back of your neck, pressing his lips to yours. You were quick to respond, grabbing onto his shirt, pulling him even closer to you before wrapping your arms around his waist while his free hand went to the small of your back.

You and Tyler had never kissed before, but there was something about it that felt right, your lips slotting together like two puzzle pieces. His were soft and warm and you flicked your tongue across it, wanting to know if he tasted as good as he always smelled.

He tasted like a mixture of mint and tobacco and while normally you would have thought it was gross, this time, you couldn’t get enough, letting your tongue roam all over his mouth to taste as much of him as you could.

A moan fell from your lips at the feeling of his tongue scraping against yours and you could feel Tyler’s dick getting even harder against you. His hands moved down to the bottom of your shirt, slipping it off to reveal your bra. It was a black, lacy thing that left little up to the imagination.

“Oh, what is this?” he asked, his eyes going dark. “Were you wanting someone to see it?”

“I-I have a ton of them. I don’t wear them for anyone, I wear them for me. To make me feel good about myself.”

“That’s really admirable. It’s hot,” he said, His nose brushing along your jaw. “You’re hot.” He then buried his face into your neck, peppering the spot with kisses as you tilted your head to the side, letting your eyes close as his kisses got longer, his tongue swiping back and forth along your skin.

Tyler began to suck on the spot and you moaned again, your back arching into him. He could feel your heartbeat hammering and chuckled to himself that he of all people could make you feel that way.

His teeth slid along the spot and you let out a gasp before melting into him, letting his hand come up and support your head as he continued to work.

“I bet your fictional men can’t do this, can they?” He chuckled before diffusing the sting with his tongue.

“D-definitely not,” you replied, trying your best to not sound out of breath. “Tyler, I think I’m gonna-” your words were cut off by a loud moan falling from your lips, your back arching again.

“Wow, I haven’t even gotten inside you and you’re already coming for me?” He pressed a kiss to your lips. “That must be a new record. Now c’mon, let’s go somewhere more private, hm?”

You couldn’t even respond to him, your head feeling cloudy as your body went limp in his arms. Your legs were starting to feel weak and Tyler picked you up and carried you to your bed, setting you down on it gently.

You removed your jeans and underwear while Tyler did the same. You reached for a condom in the drawer of your bedside table, watching him roll it onto his massive cock before he climbed onto top of you.

“Feel free to be as loud as you want. Tell me what you like, what you don’t. And if you want to stop, let me know and we can. I want you to enjoy this. That’s my number one priority. This is about you.”

“About me?” You asked, feeling your eyes getting a little misty. You had only slept with one other person. It was your freshman year of college and all he had done was get inside you and pump a few times before he came then pulled out before he left. It seemed that he just cared about himself, leaving you to finish up the job.

Ever since then, you had been afraid to sleep with anyone else. But Tyler was different. You were confident that he could make you feel good, that he would be attentive and nothing but sweet the entire time.

“All you. What do you want me to do?” He asked, one of his hands cupping your cheeks.

“I want you inside me, please,” you asked, your voice soft. Tyler liked himself up with you and slowly inserted himself, watching your every move.

He began to thrust, starting slowly to warm you up. He usually liked it rough, but this time he was going to be soft and gentle because that was what you deserved. He knew all about your first time and was intending on giving you one that you deserved.

He watched you underneath him, his mind wandering to that passage he had read in your book. You read about choking, but did that mean that you were actually into it? Maybe he’d try it out later when you had gotten used to him.

You grabbed onto him as you bucked your hips into his as he grabbed onto your hips, his thrusts getting a little faster, just trying to match your energy.

“Faster,” you breathed. “Harder.”

He did as you asked and your moans were like music to his ears, especially when it was his name that fell from your lips. He never thought your friendship would get to this point, but now that it had, he could imagine being in a relationship with you. He wasn’t really that kind of guy, but for you? He could be. He would be anything you asked.

“Just like that,” you said, continuing to buck your hips against his.

“Yeah?” He asked, his thrusts becoming even harder and faster. “You like that?”

“So good,” you moaned, bucking your hips against his again and again with more force each time. He let out moans of his own and you felt yourself getting even more wet at the sounds. They were hot and breathy and were definitely going to live rent free in your head for the rest of your life.

“Doing so good, darlin’,” he cooed. “I think you deserve a treat.”

“What? Are you gonna choke me?” You asked, batting your lashes.

“Do you want me to choke you?”

“I do,” you nodded. “Please.”

His hand wrapped around your neck and squeezed, but not enough to actually do anything. He then began to pound into you as his grip on your neck tightened, more moans falling from your lips, your breathing becoming even more labored.

“Yeah? You like this, huh?” He asked and all you could do was nod.

“What else do you like? handcuffs?” You shook your head and Tyler let go, realizing that he was choking a bit too hard.

“I-I want to be spanked,” you replied once you could breathe again. Tyler took no time to flip you over so that you were on top of him.

He helped you lie flat on top of him as he leaned up to kiss you, his hands resting flat on your back, sliding down slowly until they reached your ass. He put a hand on each cheek and gave them a squeeze, catching you off guard, causing you to accidentally bite down on his bottom lip.

“Sorry,” you apologized with a sheepish smile.

“That’s okay,” he replied. “Just kiss it better, hm?” He pecked his bottom lip and he smiled up at you, his eyes darkening as his hands lifted from your ass, giving it a rough smack, causing you to let out a yelp.

“Again,” you commanded.

“Honey, I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Well, I do. That’s the point, Ty.”

“Alright, but you asked for it, sweetheart.” He smacked your ass again and again as you buried your face into his neck as if elicited moan after moan from you.

You were crying into his shoulder, begging for more until the skin felt raw. Tyler honestly never would have guessed you would have been into any of that, but he was more than willing to match your freak, having no intention of shaming you for what you were into, just wanting to go with the flow.

Tyler flipped you over again gently then pulled out of you before cleaning the two of you up. He then helped you put on some pajamas and grabbed some of his own that he usually left there before he changed.

Once the both of you were dressed, you climbed into bed, Tyler pulling you to his chest like normal. Your arms wrapped around each other and he pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

“So same thing in the morning?” You asked, looking up at him with an adorable smile.

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, darlin’,” he chuckled and the two of you drifted off to sleep, wrapped up in each other’s arms just like usual.

[hyperactively-me]

Okay But this scenario:

(Y/N) and King! Ghost: *making out behind a bookcase in the royal library*

Soap, walking in the library: Your Majesty?

(Y/N): *shoves Simon off of her* it’s soap!

Simon, still holding onto her hips: Ow :(

(Y/N): *whispering* what’s soap going to think if he finds the king like this with me?

Simon: hmmm…lucky king?

(Y/N): *starts slapping his arm with one hand while she uses the other to readjust her dress.* SIMON!

teehee, this is a good one!! thank you for the idea 🙏

You were supposed to be studying right now, but Simon had other plans in mind. The plans in mind included being pressed up against the side of a bookshelf in the far corner of the royal library. A few books had fallen off the shelf when he walked you backwards until you hit the wooden obstacle, and he took the liberty of basically placing his whole body weight up against you as he pawed at you. 

You had tried to protest at first, saying how inappropriate this was, but as soon as he put his lips on yours, you were a goner.

"Si- Simon, not now," you scold as you grip your book tighter, his fingers caressing your cheeks gently.

You had gotten up to go find another book, searching through the bookshelves methodically. Simon was trailing behind you like a lost puppy, fingers grazing your waist every time you stopped.

"Really, I'm busy," you say, not as firm this time as he starts to squeeze your flesh. You try so hard to ignore it, but you're slowly giving in.

"Are you?"

He grasps your chin between his thumb and pointer finger, pulling your gaze away from the spines of books.

"Y- yes?" you squeak, your focus being pulled solely towards Simon.

Before you know it, he's kissing you, pulling your body flush against his. He had rucked your dress up, palming and squeezing your ass as he swallowed your kisses with his tongue. You groan lightly as you push yourself on him, his large hand grabbing your hips, trying to yank you against his thigh. 

A small moan escapes your throat as he kneads your skin, tongue shoved deep inside your velvety mouth. 

"Your majesty?" a voice calls out. Soap's voice. Oh fuck.

Immediately you start to shove Simon off you, pushing him back with all the strength you could muster up. He tilts his body in an instant, shielding you from view from the direction of the voice, just in case. You try to push him off again, but he refuses to let go, hands still firmly fastened on your hips. 

"What is Soap gonna think if he finds us like this?" you whisper yell, gripping onto his arm.

"Hmm...lucky king?" he responds quietly as he licks his lips, the lilt in his voice borderline cocky. 

Your mouth falls open at his response, and with feigned anger, you slap his bicep to let go of you.

"Simon! Now is not the time for jokes," you reprimand, your face growing warm, swatting his arm like an angered cat. 

"'S not a joke, but okay," he smirks at you, giving your ass a final squeeze before backing off. 

You smooth out your dress and hair as fast as you can, making sure you look presentable enough. Simon, the lucky bastard, looked perfectly normal. Clothes all in place, save for his slightly messy hair. He could write it off so easily as just forgetting to comb his hair, though. Why does he look so fucking perfect all the time, you think to yourself. 

"How do I look?" you whisper, patting your dress down a final time.

"Fuckable."

You just stand there. Horny fucking bastard. If your cheeks weren't warm before, they were on fire now. And his words definitely don't stop you from feeling a certain wetness between your thighs. You clear your throat loudly as you turn to move towards Soap's voice. 

"Goodbye, Simon," you say brushing past him, clutching onto your dress so you can speed walk away to Soap. 

Eh, she'll get used to that, he thinks to himself with a smirk, following behind you.

- - - - -

(masterlist)

[cdragons]

Fuck Everything, But Mostly Fuck You - Part 3

Previous Part

Summary: You have never, EVER, in a million years hated anyone the way you hated Felix fucking Catton. But goddamn, Oliver Quick was a fucking close runner-up.

Warnings- MDNI 18+, slight mention of blood, sexual harassment, Felix is delulu and kind of a pig, Reader just wants some fucking peace, Michael is Michael and the best, Oliver is Oliver (the worst)

Author's Note: Thank you so much to everyone who commented and reblogged! I didn't expect this story to gain so many readers, and this was a challenging chapter to write - but only because there were some scenes I couldn't add because it would have gotten too long otherwise.

If there was a God out there, you prayed for the coming term to be as wonderful as this holiday had been for you.

You really wanted to kick yourself in the pants for making such a fucking cheesy wish at night watching the stars with Michael.

Right now, you were leaning to rest your head against a bookshelf in a slant position. You had a splitting migraine that began from the moment you woke up and worsened with nausea from your tutorial. And you couldn’t even go back to your dorm for the rest of the day because your lab course for your gen-ed didn’t allow for absences.

“What’d she do now?” came a voice on your right.

You looked to the right and were blinded by a white and blue-striped button-down shirt with short sleeves tucked into a pair of tan khaki pants.

Your knight-in-silver-framed glasses, Michael Gavey, everyone.

All the guy was missing was a pocket protector with pens and tape wrapped around the bridge, and he would have matched every bullied kid in every high school movie set in the 80s.

You turned around to lean your back against the bookshelves and slowly lowered yourself until your butt was parallel to your feet. Blowing the stray hairs out of your face, you remembered to take deep breaths to prevent you from blowing up at your only friend.

“No,” you sighed, “well – yes, but nothing I can’t handle.”

Do you love your classes? Yes. Was Daria Martin still your art teacher, and did she still like you? Yes. Are the rest of your teachers mostly assholes that think all Americans are Appalachian hill-billies? Also, yes. But were you still not excelling and scoring in the top ten after every exam? Naturally, no doubt about it.

But were you as invisible and unnoticed as you were before the break came? No. Did anyone with a pulse give you side-eyed glances after your stunt with the 24/7 shit-faced He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named? Pretty much, yes. Did most of your problems come from one mythic bitch in a 5’3” flesh suit that had the ‘Juicy’ logo plastered on her ass? Namely, one in particular, Annabel – who was your assigned student partner in your tutorial.

Was your new name among the student body now “Psycho Bitch”? …Unfortunately, yes.

…Okay, so this term has not been going as well as you had hoped during the break.

Annabel hated you – like hated-HATED you. And you had no idea why.

You were pretty sure you were less than blank air to her last term, but now she was determined to make your life a living hell. Last term, she skipped every other session to do whatever Annabel did. But now, it felt like she came to every tutorial for the opportunity to tear apart your work.

You’re pretty confident she was the one who started your new “name” about a few weeks ago when the weather began to warm up.

It’s not as if you were a stranger to being picked and prodded by the people born with silver spoons on their tongues and blessed with golden-tipped wings. You were a public-school kid from grades K-12 who went to Townsend Harris for those last four years. Townsend Harris High School was a public school, but make no mistake – it was just as full of the same bullshit hierarchy that made up every private school in Manhattan.

"Open the doors to all. Let the children of the rich and the poor take their seats together and know of no distinction save that of industry, good conduct, and intellect."

What crock. You only survived those years because every kid knew that your dad was an NYU professor who knew the Dean of Admissions of Columbia. You couldn’t recall how often you wished you had joined your friends at Flushing High or even Bayside.

However, regardless of the snide snarks and bullshit snickers pointed at you, you were left alone for the most part.

Sure – it sucked; that goes without saying. It was naïve of you to assume that people would grow out of the need for drama once they walked through the ivory doors and marble floors of higher education. It was stupid of you to think that everyone would forget about your outburst at Bodleian while they were getting drunk on the New Year.

And while Annabel was one migraine-inducing problem, she wasn’t the worst part of returning. No, that title belonged to her boyfriend, a whole other can of monkeys.

The worst part – the worst part of EVERYTHING – was how Felix fucking Catton was incapable of just leaving you the hell alone. It was like he had a little antenna sticking out of his head specifically for you whenever the two of you were within a ten-foot radius of him. Everywhere you went, it was as if you had a giant blinking arrow above you screaming, “Felix Catton’s New Toy”!

No, you were less than a toy – you were a joke, a gimmick.

God, you should have just stuck to your original plan and applied to any SUNY school that would have accepted you without even looking at your application.

But no, your good-Samaritan-obsessed college counselor called your parents and complained that you weren’t “putting yourself out there” enough. And now you were over thirty-four hundred miles away from home, stuck with the worst people ever. It was like a thousand tiny prickles were running on your skin as your mind filled with static.

Whenever Felix called out to you, it was to invite you to a party or get wasted. One time, he walked up to you insanely plastered and invited you for a quickie in the men’s bathroom. You were in an empty lecture hall since your usual spot in the library was taken, and Michael was still in class, so you didn’t see the point in trying to find an open spot.

Somehow – without you noticing – the guy plopped himself next to you and asked if there were any rooms in the building where he could smoke a joint in.

“Pretty sure you could open the window in the bathroom to smoke in there,” you replied absentmindedly.

And then he put his hand ON YOUR THIGH, leaned to your ear to whisper, “Wanna get out of here to join me? We don’t have only to get high.”

You grabbed all your shit and booked it – out of the building and all the way to your dorm to take a shower that lasted for around twenty minutes. You wanted to get rid of the smell of nicotine and overpriced aftershave. The scent of him on your skin made you wish you could tear it off.

And in your panic, you left your bike at the building’s entrance.

When you returned to retrieve it, it was after dark, and you recruited Michael as your tall and bony human shield.

“Do not ever walk home alone at night,” your mom told you every morning you left for school.

You tried not to think about the haunted look in her eyes each time she told you.

“Wanna skip the dining hall tonight? We can walk to Crowley Street and order take-out at that Pakistani place you like so much.”

Oh, that perked you right up. Jannahs Express was a broke college student’s paradise. The food was cheap, and the owners took pity on the international students. It was slightly more expensive in the UK, but it was the closest you could find with food on par to Kababish on Broadway in Queens. You stifled a laugh remembering the sight of Michael drinking the entire pitcher of water after you dared him to try a dish at ‘regular.’

“Seriously? Do you think you could take more than ‘English-mild’?” you asked as you stood up. “How did you survive your mom’s cooking for so long? She made us Indian food on our last night.”

“Mum grew up in London, and she had neighbors teach her how to make it the traditional way. You’re the only person who could take that level. Lilypad and I got Dad’s taste buds.”

Choking on your spit from laughing at the image of Gregory Gavey’s face turning firetruck red, you felt the migraine slowly disappear.

“Yeah, I’ll bet. God, I can’t imagine the look on his face when –”

A familiar voice that left a bitter taste in your mouth after hearing interrupted your conversation.

“Hey, (Y/N). Can we talk?”

You and Michael turned your heads to find Oliver Quick – Michael’s former friend, your former acquaintance – and the sight of him soured the mood instantaneously. You narrowed your eyes to dangerous slits to show your displeasure seeing him as one corner of your lip curled to show a sneer. You never liked the guy. There was just something about how he acted and presented himself. He had a profound desperation to impress everyone around him.

So much so that he immediately dropped Michael after becoming Felix Catton’s new pet. As evidenced by the oversized gray zip-up hoodie blanketing him. Felix’s, no doubt.

Fuck, you hated him.

“Ugh, what do you want?” you snapped, taking a bit of pleasure in seeing how your voice made him flinch.

“Look, can we –” his eyes hastily darted to Michael, then you, then behind him to make sure no one was watching him “– can we talk in private?”

Seriously? That’s how he wants to play this?

In the corner of your eye, you saw how tightly Michael clenched his fists. He was obviously still hurt from the time his ex-friend treated him like shit.

Oh, this will not do.

“Oliver,” you snarled as you crossed your arms over your chest, “whatever the hell you have to say to me, you can say in front of Michael.”

“Can you please not do this now?” he begged with pathetic eyes. How very in-character of him.

“Tick tock, Quick. Are you going to talk, or do I have to throw a drink in your face again? But this time, I’ll smash the glass on your face, too.”

Seeing the look on his face gave you almost a perverse sense of joy. Maybe this is why bullies exist.

“Do you think you’ll be at the pub sometime this week?”

What the fuck? Was he serious? His question caught you completely off-guard. You expected him to ask for notes or even help with homework, as his grades have slipped since becoming an official Felix Catton fanboy.

“At the pub – Oliver, when have I drunk alcohol in the entire time we’ve known each other?”

“You’ll turn nineteen this year, right? It’s only illegal if you’re under 18,” he tried to put out convincingly.

“Yeah, no shit, Sherlock. But you’re forgetting the part where I’m still an American citizen. Just because it’s legal for me to vote doesn’t mean it’s okay for me to drink yet.”

“No one cares about that here!” he almost shouted. “Just come with me to the pub at King’s Arms for the next few nights.”

“No fucking way,” you scoffed. “My parents would kill me if they found out I drank on a school night. Also, in case you forgot, we still have our test tomorrow in History. And I, for one, don’t need to get sloshed every night to feel important.”

Michael tugged on your sleeve and nodded at the small crowd forming around you three. You sighed in silence, agreeing that it wasn’t worth it. You both tried to walk away, but you were grabbed and stumbled back, which caused you to drop your books.

“Ow! Are you kidding–” but a wince broke your complaint as Oliver’s hold on your arm tightened to a painful grip. Your eyes traveled to his face, and you were shocked to see the anger shining in his eyes.

“Why do you have to make everything so fucking difficult?” he grit out. “Are you trying to ruin my life?”

The way his nails dug into your skin made you curse under your breath. Seeing you in pain broke Michael out of his shock at how someone as meek as Oliver Quick could show so much aggression. He rushed to get him off you.

“Are you fucking mental?” he hissed at Oliver once he managed to separate to two of you.

But Oliver’s nail left red scratch marks down to your wrist, even breaking the skin enough to cause little beads of blood to escape. This enraged Michael like you have never seen. Staring at the evidence of his former friend’s clawing, he walked forward and pushed him to the bookshelf before grabbing his shirt with both hands.

“What’s wrong with you?” Michael yelled. “She already said no!”

You wiped the blood off your arm with an old travel tissue pack you stole from the plane you took from JFK to London last summer. God, everyone was staring at you guys now. You needed to find a way to contain the situation. If any staff catches you, all three of you may risk trouble. Trouble that would jeopardize your scholarships. You grabbed Michael’s hands to get him to loosen his grip.

“Look, I’ll hear you out–” you looked around and cringed at everyone’s stares, “–just not here.”

This calmed Oliver’s rage enough to get Michael to let go.

“Okay,” he whispered, “okay – yeah. Let’s go outside.”

The three of you grabbed your shit and quickly exited the library. You went to the same area behind the building with no windows – ergo, no bystanders to gawk at you.

“Okay, we’re outside. Look, I’m sorry about your arm. But can you please just –”

You lifted your hand to stop him.

“Okay, look. I only said I would hear you out to make you and Michael stop fighting,” you stated matter-of-factly. “None of us could afford to get in trouble with the faculty and staff, and it was getting too out-of-hand. Oliver, I am not going to King Arm’s tonight or any night you ask me. I have my own life, so don’t drag me into yours.”

Oliver gaped like a fish for a few seconds before speaking.

“But you have to! Please! If you do, then maybe he’ll –”

“WHO?” you interrupted, shouting. “Who will be there? Who is so important that you act so fucking psycho for five minutes ago?”

This was too much for you to deal with everything on your plate already.

“Cut the vague bullshit already! Why are you desperate for me to be there? It’s so –” You froze as an epiphany struck down you.

Oh, hell fucking no…

“Are you hoping that Felix will be there?” you asked through clenched teeth.

You felt like a volcano ready to blow with his slight nod. And like a volcano – you blew.

“You mean to tell me that you risked all our asses, attacked, and humiliated me for fucking FELIX CATTON?!”

You couldn’t believe it – you couldn’t fucking believe it. Felix Catton took up so much of your life already; once again, he felt it necessary to take more of it for himself.

How much more could one man take? How much more did he want until it was enough?

He had taken so much – more than any person other than yourself had any right to own. Your education, your peace, and what was next? Your body? Your life? Did he intend to bleed you dry of everything like a parasitic vampire he and his kind pretended not to be?

You were going crazy, insane, and running yourself tired all at once. The absurdity of it all made you laugh. You laughed and laughed and laughed until you were gasping for air. You laughed so hard that tears spilled from your eyes as you doubled over.

“Oh my god,” you gasped, “oh my god! That’s it. Of course, it is. What else could it be?”

Standing straight, you kept laughing, but you were staring at Oliver with an answer clear in your eyes.

“He got bored of you,” you accused him, “didn’t he? So quickly?”

God, how you relished how red his face turned. If you were smart, you would have stopped taunting there – but you were too tired of everything to care.

“It’s been what? A month? Maybe two?” you further pressed. “He really just loves to go through all his toys, huh?”

“(Y/N),” Michael whispered in your ear, “let’s just go.”

He looked at Oliver with disdainful eyes before softening them to look back at you.

“He isn’t worth it. Come on, let’s get your cut cleaned up before we leave.”

You let Michael gently drag you away from the hurricane mess that was Oliver Quick, leaving him to stew in anger and wallow in self-pity on the chilly spring night.

A few days later, you and Michael were walking back to his dorm after watching one of the most notable movie franchises starring one of Hollywood’s best actors.

“How could you not love Pirates of the Caribbean?” you cried. “Johnny Depp is beyond brilliant!”

“Oh, so acting drunk in front of an expensive camera is now considered brilliant?” he quipped back. “Shit, I should have just gone into acting instead.”

“I’m sorry, do you not remember his jar of dirt? That scene was completely improvised, by the way – including his fall.”

“Oh – not the stupid jar of dirt! Lil’ kept buggering me all summer doing that scene after I took her to see it!”

“Oh, I meant to ask. What did Lily think of the books I got for her birthday? Were they weird?”

“Are you kidding? She loved them. She keeps going on about how she wants to be Annabeth for Halloween. Oh, by the way, she’s making me dress up as Luke and wants you to go as Thalia.”

Your jaw dropped in shock. “Seriously?! Yes, let’s do it. I am so in.”

“She is aware that Luke’s the villain, right?”

“Don’t worry about it so much. She wants to share these memories with you. And you are such a good brother, Mikey.”

“I am never going to escape that name with you,” he groaned, “am I?”

“Nope!” you happily confirmed. “Never! When I write my speech at your wedding, I will mention it at least fifteen times.”

“I’ll allow six.”

“Twelve.”

“Ten, take it or leave it.”

“Ten it is. Pinky-swear.”

You held out your pinky to show sincerity. And like someone raised correctly, Michael respected the sanctity of the swear by reciprocating.

“Perfect! Now that that’s settled, is it okay if I crash at your place for the night? It’s so late, and we don’t have classes tomorrow morning.”

“Yeah, sure,” he replied. “Just make sure you – Annabel.”

Wait, what? You stopped walking and turned to look at your friend in confusion.

“Annabel?”

He pointed it out in front of him with a slight nod.

“Annabel,” he confirmed.

Indeed, it was Annabel. But she was sitting slumped against the hallway’s walls with vomit all over her blue dress.

Felix had been going mad for the past few months since his and Farleigh’s return to Oxford. It was already almost May, and he hadn’t come any closer to getting (Y/N)’s attention.

What could he possibly be doing that was so wrong?

He invites you to parties or a drink with you every time he sees you. He had hoped that being friends with Ollie would have given him an “in” with you, but there was no such luck. Did you really have no idea how he felt about you? How much more obvious could he be?

He remembered how happy he was when he realized that Oliver knew you. It was that night at the pub at Kings’ Arms. He recalled it so vividly.

Felix was silent throughout the entire transaction. The sight of you coming over entirely transfixed him. Your hair had two small braids on the side that were attached with small yellow butterfly clips. You were wearing black denim overalls with vintage-looking patches sewn onto the fabric. Your shirt was a light blue-dyed shirt-sleeved t-shirt with splotches of navy blue. It must have been something you made when you were little. The fabric looked soft and worn down. But the size was small enough to hug the curves of your upper torso perfectly. The way the fabric stretched across your tits made him salivate.

After he introduced himself to you, you only responded with a grimace and a slight nod of acknowledgment. He invited you to join him and his friends for a drink, but you only ignored him. His words were meaningless breezes to you – white noise in the background that added to the clang and chatter in the room. He wasn’t even paying attention to Oliver until you threw that drink at him.

“Fucking cunt-rag!” you called Ollie after throwing Farleigh’s drink in his face. You shoved a middle finger for added effect. “Don’t ever show your face in front of me again.”

Grabbing your coat, you stomped away from the table.

Absentmindedly handing his friend some tissues, Felix had to know what your deal was with Oliver. Were you two dating or just friends? He didn’t know how he felt about his new friend being romantically involved with his angel.

“Wait, do you two know each other?” he asked.

“What?” asked Oliver – not understanding his idol’s question before his mind finally registered it. “Oh, yeah. Yeah, she’s a friend of a friend.”

“Were you two ever, like ‘together’?” Felix had to know.

Oliver’s eyes widened a bit before shaking his head and panickedly answering.

“No, no, no. We have a few classes together – that’s it.”

Felix couldn’t believe his luck. Ollie must really be his hero.

“Do you think you could introduce us?” he asked excitedly – his molten chocolate eyes were shining ablaze with hope.

“Uh, yeah, sure.” Oliver quickly agreed – anything to keep his attention on him.

Felix felt like leaping to the sky. He could run a marathon with how much energy was flooding throughout him. He clapped his hands before grabbing Ollie’s face with both hands and smacking a wet kiss on both cheeks.

“Oh, thank you! Thank you!” Felix went up to get him another pint. “You’re my hero, Ollie. You really are.”

As he lay on his bed, he tried to remember every interaction with you. His last one with you was something he could admit went horribly wrong.

He wandered on the grounds when he stumbled on a building with your bike on the rack. Figuring that you were just in a lecture, Felix figured he could try to catch up with you when it was done. It wasn’t like he had anything important later. He would stay near the entrance and try to catch your attention when you walked out.

Simple.

And because he was God’s favorite, he found you sitting in the middle of an empty classroom. You were taking notes while reading a massive textbook while lightly bobbing your head to whatever was blasting through your earbuds.

Sliding to the seat next to you, he smoothly asked you if there was any room where he could smoke. You didn’t even bother to look at him while answering him – too fixated with your studies to pay attention to him.

Knowing that he had to get you to look at him through more direct actions, Felix impulsively put his hand on your thigh before asking you if you wanted to join him. He even joked, saying that you didn’t only have to get high.

But seeing the terror in your eyes threw him off. He quickly wanted to tell you that he was only joking. If you knew that he wasn’t being serious, maybe you would ease up around him. But before he could apologize, you frantically stood from your seat to gather your books in your bag before running out of the room.

Felix groaned into his hands as he recalled how fast you ran out of the room and away from him.

“Felix, you’re a fucking idiot,” he softly insulted himself.

God, what the hell was wrong with him? Why did he think that someone as studious as you would ever consider getting high with some bloke in the bathroom of an academic building?

Every step he tried to take forward with you felt like he was going ten steps back. He needed to find a way to get on your good side.

Maybe Ollie could – no, that was a dead end. Fuck, he needed a drink.

Lying on his bed, Oliver stared at the ceiling of his room. Annabel had just left with the bottle of vodka they had been drinking out of for the past half hour. He wanted to cry.

Why was everything going wrong?

But he knew the reason. It was you.

He was so naïve to think you wouldn’t be an obstacle. You had practically ruined everything from the beginning. It wasn’t just when you refused to help him the other day but also that night at the pub at Kings’ Arms.

While Felix was ordering him a drink, Oliver sat bewildered at the sequence of events that had transpired in the past five minutes. First, Felix invited him over to sit with him and his friends. And when things had been so well, you interrupted his excellent time by asking where Michael was. When you realize he has left your friend alone, you ask for Farleigh Start’s drink before throwing it in his face. You then called him a “cunt-rag” before storming off like a goddamn child.

Luckily, Felix hadn’t listened to you speak. But that was only because he stared at you – stared at you like he was born to worship you. Even worse, Felix asked him if he could introduce the two of you at some point. The way Felix’s eyes widened in glee when Oliver agreed enraged him – even more than when you insulted and almost humiliated him in front of Felix.

Staring at his back, Oliver figured Felix’s attention on you wasn’t something to worry about. He was only interested in you because you were pretty. As much as you infuriated him, Oliver admitted that you had a rare and genuine beauty to you. He didn’t know whether it was your indifference for Oxford’s gods and kings or your dedication to keeping in touch with your American roots – but it was enough to enrapture Felix Catton temporarily.

No, Oliver Quick had no reason to worry. He would be enough for Felix. And then you would be an afterthought, and he’d be Felix Catton’s everything.

Oliver had to find a way to ensure you wouldn't be a problem anymore. You'd comply - there would come a time when you won't have a choice.

Let me know if you want me to write the full scene of Reader throwing the drink at Oliver!

Tagging: @ethereal-athalia, @arcielee, @valeskafics, @asa-do-your-thing, @aphroditesmoon, @axelsagewrites, @the1999kid, @poolnoodlerescuer, @aemondsbabe, @winterblu2, @abaker74, @whereismymindnow, @agustdeeyaa, @iamavailablesstuff, @bonnieblue0606, @st-eve-barnes, @nyxthoughtss, @immyowndefender, @ilovemydinoboi, @ahristata, @cxp1d, @jinsoulorbitzen12, @temptation-waits, @bollzinurmouth, @jcngw0ns, @seababehh, @destinydestnation, @lankyboi4, @mindless-rock, @cassavacakes

Please comment and/or reblog your thoughts and if you want to be added to the taglist!

[cameronspecial]

I Will Love It, Rafe

Pairing: Frat!Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings:  N/A

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 0.7K

Summary: Rafe wants to make their house a home for Y/N.

Masterlist

Being married to Rafe is the most amazing stage of Y/N’s life. She didn’t think he could’ve gotten more loving and attentive, but he did. When they moved into their house in the Outer Banks, he did the whole carrying her across the threshold thing and his husbandly duties didn’t stop there. He helped in every possible way to bring their house together and create their home. He gave his input on the paint colour, couch swatches, what style of furniture he wanted and anything else she would ask him. Even going as far as buying a few decorations he sees in the store and thinks she would like. Every time he would meet her with the same adorable nervousness of her not liking it, which she would always reassure him she does like it. This house is really starting to feel like theirs. 

Rafe knows Y/N has been dreaming of a built-in bookshelf in the room that is going to be their office and Rafe is dying to make that happen for her. Sarah took Y/N out for the day under the pretense of showing his wife the island that is now her home. This allows him to work on his project for her. He enlisted the help of Sarah’s pogue friends because he knew he wasn’t the most masterful with his building. He isn’t their biggest fan, but he can put their differences aside for the sake of Y/N. 

“We just have to nail the last top face frame rail and then we are ready to paint,” Rafe confirms with the others. Pope nods, “Yeah. Although, she won’t be able to put anything on it until after twenty-four hours, so I don’t know if you want to wait to show her.” “I think I’m too anxious to wait. I need to know what she thinks right away. What if she doesn’t like it?” Rafe frets, not seeing that he is holding the wood up crooked. JJ hits the back of his head, “Snap out of it. You aren’t holding it straight.” Rafe fixes his hold on the wood so that JJ can nail it into place. John B is the one to reassure his, hopefully, far-future brother-in-law. “Don’t worry, Dude. You said that she’s been showing you pictures of these bookshelves, so you know what she wants. Plus, she’ll just be touched by the gesture even if it isn’t exactly what she wants,” John B promises, slapping the husband’s back. “Thanks,” Rafe whispers. 

———

The big reveal is quickly approaching and Rafe feels the sweat on his palms. He wipes it off on the towel in his hand. The front door opens and he swears as he realizes he won’t have enough time to get cleaned up. He runs to greet the girls and is met by a questioning look from his wife. She sets the bags in her hand down, “What’s with the paint?” “Uhh, I’ve been working on a project for you, but I’m not sure I want you to see it,” he confesses, walking over to pick up the bags and kiss her. She returns the kiss, “Why don’t you want me to see it?” “Because I don’t think you will like it. So I’m going to have to take it down and pay a professional to make a better one,” he explains. He pulls out his phone to call the pogues back to take down what they had built not even twenty minutes ago. 

Y/N takes his phone out of his hand and makes him look at her. “You don’t have to do that. Just show me what you did. I’m sure I will love it, Rafe,” she comforts him, placing her hand in his. He lets out a breath and takes her upstairs to their office. He opens the door to reveal the labour of his day. Her eyes set on the bookshelves and she lets out a squeal. Her arms wrap around his neck. She kisses him on the cheek, “Rafe, I love it. This is incredible. Thank you so much. You are really making this place our home.” He gives her a kiss of his own with a massive grin. “You’re welcome, Angel. I would do anything to make you feel comfortable. I want you to love this space as much as I love you.” 

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia

[lovers-rck]

little secret | abby anderson x reader.

summary abby anderson likes to read, and you like abby anderson. | friends to lovers, +18.

okay.... this is the longest fic i ever written (i think)

enjoy

but before, help palestine with one click.

☆

You met her in winter. The immensity of the stadium they called home impressed you, a reconstructed civilization within an abnormality hard to ignore.

Even though she was the most respected soldier in the place, your memory ranks her welcome as the warmest. Between fluffy sweaters and worn leather jackets, Abby showed you a warmth that made Seattle's monstrous winter seem like a light summer breeze.

In addition to showing you the place where you would now live, immense and so functional it was frightening, Abby showed you more than the visible. As time passed, shyly, Abby took her time to show you her jokes, her favorite books, (of which there were many, you decided) her strange ways of combining food to kill hunger longer, her wounds; the internal and the external.

The personal library that Abby had begun to assemble when she arrived at W.L.F. was now familiar to you. When responsibilities left and the moon was present in the atmosphere, the two of you spent the night in that place. The bookshelves acted like skyscrapers over your bodies sitting on the floor, filled with books and comics that the W.L.F. soldiers encountered on their daily patrols.

"I think they're going to end up together" Abby mutters, her nose buried between the pages of an old red-covered book.

"You said the same thing about the other book last night" You replied. Youdidn't share the same passion for reading as Abby, but you enjoyed listening to her tell you about her new readings and her theories about what might or might not happen in those pages.

You liked that contrast with the soldier Abby, the one everyone knew, and the Abby you knew. During the day her posture was steady, stone-eyed and scrutinizing every movement nature had to offer, attentive and ready to pull the trigger at any danger, but when night fell, her posture changed completely; usually hunched over, her features softer, more relaxed.

"It's not my fault that everyone writes the same thing" Abby rolled her eyes, putting the book aside but not before folding a corner of the page, marking where it was left "I guess it was a popular idea back in the day"

"You should write a book."

Abby let out a groan, leaning back against the bookshelf behind her. The two of you were sitting on the floor, facing each other, separated by a pile of books scattered on the library's newest acquisition: a worn purple carpet.

"I'm not in the mood for jokes" Abby blurted out.

"Why?" you asked "It wasn't a joke anyway"

"Because of Manny. He was out of control today during patrol. He almost got us killed"

You rolled your eyes "You know what he's like" Abby massaged her shoulder absently, you could see her muscles twitch "I'm sure it was nothing, you just can't stand it when people don't follow your orders"

she looked at you, her eyebrows raised "Excuse me?"

Ypu laughed lightly "It's true. You're a serial controller."

"I'm not a serial controller, for your information" Abby said "It's just not a place for jokes"

"If you say..." you mumbled, pulling your knees up to your chest and dropping the conversation; knowing Abby, she would never admit it.

"What?"

You shrugged, smiling graciously at Abby's accusatory look "I didn't say anything."

"You don't believe me" Abby scrutinized you with her gaze.

You shook your head "I didn't say that".

"But you thought it"

You rolled your eyes "Now you're a mind reader? I can see why you're considered the best soldier ever"

"There's nothing wrong with being controlling, Abs. That's the way you get everything you want. Everything you have" you continued.

Abby let out a sigh, her chest heaving, "Yeah, whatever"

The room fell into a deep silence for a couple of minutes. You decided to grab a book, trying to read it and make some sense of the words, but Abby's gaze on you prevented your brain from synapses.

"What?" you said in an accusatory tone, resting the book in your lap and looking at that blonde girl.

Now it was Abby's turn to shrug, a slight smirk planted on her face "I didn't say anything"

"Whatever."

Abby considered picking up her book as well, but saw no point in seeing the very predictable ending that the last few pages held. Your words were still echoing in her head; everything she wanted.

She, in fact, didn't have everything she wanted. Abby thought she lacked a handful of essentials; a reasonable sleep schedule, a meal that with all the proteins, a partner who wasn't a complete idiot on patrol.

But hey, those were luxuries given the circumstances.

To no one's surprise, you caught Abby's attention from the very first moment. She remembers with tenderness the first time she saw you, wet and covered with blood, hidden among the large leaves of a strange plant that had been born thanks to the combination of vegetation and fungus, with a look that Abby would never forget.

She felt the need to protect you, not because she considered you weak, but because a strange feeling led her to position herself in front of you when in the patrols you heard some infected too close, or that time when a Seraphite appeared unexpectedly and hurted you, and Abby kept chasing Mel through the corridors to remind her to be extremely careful with you.

"I know what I'm doing, Abby" she remembered how Mel told her one night "She's going to be fine"

Abby tried to convince herself that it was just that she had grown too attached to you, but something inside her told her it was something more than that, something deeper, more intense.

Abby thought she lacked a handful of things that were essential to her life, like you.

"You know, you read too many romance books" you said, snapping Abby out of her thoughts "Are you in love, Anderson?"

"Oh my god" Abby muttered "You should go to sleep, the lack of it is affecting your reasoning."

"So, is that a yes?"

"I don't choose what to read" Abby replied "I don't know if you noticed, but we're in an apocalypse. I don't have too many genres to choose from."

"You still haven't answered my question!"

Abby's muscles tensed as she could see how you moved from your position and sat closer to her, next to her. Abby could feel your arm brush against hers.

"So..." You murmured, your breath hitting Abby's lips "Tell me your little secret."

"My little secret?" Abby murmured, forcing herself to look only into your eyes.

"Who do you like?" And Abby snorted, rolling her eyes "Is it Nora? I've seen you two together a lot recently."

"No, wait, i know. It's mel, isn't it?" You continued. Your knee bumped into Abby's thigh.

"I'm not in love with Nora, or Mel, dumbass. They're my friends."

You emitted silence for a few seconds, and then:

"Is it Manny?"

"Are you kidding me?" Abby replied with a tone that made you burst out laughing, combined with all those laughs written on worn pages

"I'm sorry. I had to say it" you said with a chuckle.

Abby shook her head slowly, a smile planting itself on her face. Fucking Manny, she thought.

"So?" You said after a few minutes. Abby looked at you, her blue sapphires piercing your gaze. "Who is it?" You muttered, your voice coming out weaker than intended.

Siddenly the library became the quietest place in that giant structure. Every whisper, every sigh felt too aggressive, too loud; something that threatened to break the intimacy that the proximity of your bodies had created.

Abby slowly denied with her head, closing her eyes for a second. When she opened them again, something had changed in her gaze.

"You're not going to tell me?" You whispered. Your hand rested close to Abby's. At some point, you doubted whether your bones had turned to magnet and Abby's to metal because of the way a supernatural force was compelling you to be close to her.

She denied again, but the way her eyes flicked to your mouth for a microsecond gave her away.

"It's okay" you whispered "I think I have an idea."

The first time you saw her, that winter, you noticed that Abby had a tendency to lick her lips constantly. It didn't seem odd to you, as the winter in Seattle was very dry and lip balm was not something they were equipped with at the W.L.F, but as time went on you noticed that Abby had a tendency to lick her lips only when she was with you; when you pretended you didn't know she was looking at you, when you got close to her face to apply a lipstick you found in one of the patrolling days, when you gave her a kiss on the cheek on the morning of her birthday.

And now, just before your lips meet hers.

For the first few seconds neither of you move. Your lips linger on hers shyly, too terrified to move but refusing to pull away. Abby has to muster all her strength to move her hand to your jaw, holding you, and suddenly every shred of fear leaves her.

Your lips instantly reciprocate, too hungry, too thirsty for her taste. Abby thinks that now that she finally knows what it feels like to kiss you, she fears not being able to stop.

Her hand, which initially started on your cheek, travels down your body to your waist squeezing the flesh viciously. Her fingerprints savor every touch your body provides, skin that has been reserved for so long just for her enjoyment.

When Abby's hand makes contact with the exposed portion of skin, the air circulating through the stadium feels insufficient. Your body takes on an inhuman heat, a heat worthy of the iron emanating from the gates to hell, a heat that only she can cease.

"Abby" your lips release, a strangled moan.

"I know" She replies.

Your body was now a mass that Abby could mold as she wished. She is overcome with a sweeping euphoria as she becomes aware of the control your body offers her, and thinks maybe you were right; she likes to be in control.

You try to keep up with her movements. You touch her skin, her arms, afraid to ruin the pattern of freckles that rest perfectly on her rosy shoulders.

In a matter of seconds you end up on her lap, your legs hugging her thighs, clinging to the new sensation that Abby's shyness deprived you of for so long. Between kisses, you can hear the moans the blonde's mouth emits, weak but guttural moans.

"Can I..." Abby murmurs, her mouth on top of yours "Can I touch you?"

Your throat fails to find the strength to elicit a sound, so you just nod, eager for anything that comes from her. Instantly you feel Abby's fingers undoing your belt and unbuttoning the button of your pants, but just as you're ready for the next thing, Abby's fingers linger in place.

"What's wrong?" you ask, strands of hair interrupting your vision. Your hair feels so tousled "You don't have to if you don't want to Abs."

Abby shakes her head, her eyes drift to her hands lying in your lap, fiddling with the button "It's nothing" she murmurs "It's just.... It's been a while, you know?"

And you understand. Your fingers stroke the backs of Abby's arms.

"I understand. You don't have to be nervous" you say, trying to get her to look at you "It's just us."

Abby nods. She looks at your abdomen, the way your t-shirt hugs your waist.

"If it makes you feel any better, I never did this" you whisper, and that's all it takes for Abby to look at you.

"Never?"

you deny "Never"

"What about the redheaded girl last month? You told me things happened."

You stifle a laugh, embarrassed. Now it's your turn to look away from Abby and focus on the pattern on her shirt.

"It was stupid. We didn't do anything, it scared me" you can feel her tuck an unruly lock behind your ear, her fingertips caressing your face "It was just a silly kiss."

Abby nods slowly, her gaze still on you "Okay. Okay."

Behind the library doors, women and children walk the halls, leaders give orders and soldiers disappear behind the massive doors while others return from adventures. The world is functional again.

"Do you think it's stupid?" you mutter.

"What? No" Abby denies "It's not stupid. It's fine. Besides, it's not like we have a lot of time for that kind of thing around here"

Your lips let out a chuckle. "Yeah, that's true."

Your eyes match Abby's gaze, who smiles slightly. Her smile is sweet, friendly, you can feel the warmth that is so characteristic of her, nestling between the corners of her mouth

This time she starts the kiss. This time it is calmer, less desperate, but just as passionate. Her fingers return to what concerns them, and navigate between your pants and the elastic of your underwear.

Her fingers are cold, so you stir in her lap at the sensation and Abby laughs, apologizing softly. You quickly forget about the sharp change in temperature because you have Abby where you want her most.

Even though it's been a long time since the last time, Abby is quick to pull your panties to the side and find a rhythm that has you moaning in seconds. Your lips break the kiss several times, moans seeking air and space to make themselves present.

"Is this okay?" Abby murmurs into your neck, wet kisses planting themselves on your skin.

Your hips move against her hand, desperate "Yes Abs" the hot air of your breath hits against her ear, and Abby almost lets out the most obscene sound ever uttered "Please, keep going."

Abby's free hand massages your breasts, squeezes and fondles them. Her tongue plays with the sensitive skin of your neck, sucking and marking every inch.

The euphoria and pleasure of the moment makes you feel invincible, and your hand darts toward Abby's pants, unzipping them and finding her black boxers.

"What are you doing?" Abby says, choked words.

You ignore her and continue your task, reaching inside her underwear and trying to mimic the move you do to yourself on nights where your body lies too warm on the sheets of some room at the W.L.F. Your movements are clumsy, but they work wonders for Abby, who stifles her moans into your neck.

As her nature defines her, Abby is a competitive girl in every way, so when she feels an immense heat who tries to collapse her under your effects, her fingers pick up the pace and pull desperate moans from your throat.

There was no way Abby would finish before you.

"Abby" you moan, your fingers losing rhythm "Abby"

"I know."

It doesn't take too many seconds before your body shudders under Abby's control and moans and groans come out of your mouth, which you choke on her shoulder.

Pleasure blurs your vision and senses, so you can't anticipate when a trembling, whimpering Abby pulls your hand from her intimacy and her muscles contract accompanied by a long, shuddering moan.

You and her breathing evens out, both of your breasts moving to the rhythm of the beat that is their hearts tuned to the same station.

You look at her. She looks at you.

Abby thinks this ending is better than any book she's ever read.

[wonustars]

𝙀𝙣𝙜𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙝 𝙇𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝘼𝙛𝙛𝙖𝙞𝙧

Part 1. | Soobin Vers. | Yeonjun Vers.

Summary:  After an eventful study session with Beomgyu, you thought things between you would turn out well. Instead he’s not to be seen for two weeks. Leaving you confused and feeling rejected.

Reposts are always appreciated/encouraged!! Tumblr works on reblogs not likes, Thank you for your support :)

Tags: enemies to lovers, jealous!beomgyu, jealous!reader, wolfcut!gyu, nonidol!au, university au, skater!gyu, fluff, angst, lots of arguing. (if i missed any warnings let me know)

Warnings: smut mdni! bigdick!gyu, dom!gyu, sub!reader, pet names, unprotected sex, cream pie, choking, oral (f.receiving), fingering, spanking (f. receiving), cockwarming, multiple orgasms, praising and degrading.

Wordcount: 5876

It’s been exactly two weeks since you had last seen Beomgyu. After the eventful study session for your project, he had seemed to have fallen off the face of the Earth. He hadn’t even been spotted at the local skate park. And one thing about Beomgyu was that he was always there. Always. Loitering and fooling around with his other skater friends. A part of you felt a twang of disappointment. Did he regret sleeping with you that one time? Even though there was a consensus that you both had enjoyed it? 

You’re reading your textbook, each line blurring into a jumble of nonsense. It has been hard to focus because of the confusion Beomgyu seems to have caused. You’ve been silently searching for him around campus hoping that he would randomly turn up. He hasn’t even been attending your shared biology class. Not that he even needed to, Beomgyu was naturally smart, infuriatingly enough. 

You groan in annoyance, all these thoughts about your last hook-up with the person you thought you hated have become a nuisance. You haven’t been able to think straight since then, especially knowing that you have no clue how Beomgyu had felt after everything happened. Your textbook is now propped up on the table, covering you as you run your hands through your hair. A small habit that seemed to have intensified these last few weeks. 

Deciding to finally give up on your lousy attempt to finish your homework, you get up to put back the textbook into its rightful place. Mentally cursing Beomgyu for causing you to not be able to think properly. 

Your chair lightly scrapes the floor as you stand up to head to the bookshelves. The library has been your new designated study area. Not only is it quiet enough to keep you busy, but it is also the only spot on campus that doesn’t remind you of him. The smell of all the old books gave you a sense of comfort and there was enough natural light to keep you from going crazy. You especially enjoyed the way the rain would hit the windows, leaving a pitter-patter sound that lulled you into a perfect rhythm to study. 

As you walk to the biology section of the library a flash of black and white hair catches your attention. You stop in your tracks and your heart plummets to the floor in mere seconds. You turn to look and low and behold it's the last person you had expected to see in your little sanctuary. He’s currently pressed up against a random girl, caging her between his tall frame and the bookshelf. Their faces connected, obnoxiously making out in a secluded corner. His long hair was still the same as you remembered. Long, soft and perfectly framing his face. You couldn’t help but stand there partly in shock and partly in disappointment. He’s been here this whole time? Maybe he was ignoring you. You never wanted to admit it to yourself because of the feeling it gave you, but now it seems like the only reasonable explanation.

As if things couldn’t get any worse, they stop their makeout session and Beomgyu turns and sees you staring at the two of them. He looks shocked, almost as if he’s been caught. Your eyes widen, and a cold sweat runs down the back of your neck. He pulls himself out of her grasp and is in the process of shouting your name. Before he could advance any further you quickly turn around abandoning your textbook onto the closest shelf. Your mind running a million miles an hour, and your body responding before you could think properly. At this point, you’re practically sprinting out of the library, and your speed causes a few students to turn their heads to look at you. You couldn’t care less, you just want to get out of there. 

Beomgyu must’ve lost track of you because he’s nowhere to be seen at this point. Your hands are on your knees, trying your best to catch your breath. Your daily study session at the library has now made an unexpected turn. Thinking back to what you witnessed makes your heart ache with confusion and a little bit of jealousy. Even though Beomgyu isn't yours and he can fuck anybody he wanted, you still feel a bit of sorrow. You presumed something had changed between you two after that day, but you didn’t expect it to be a negative one. 

Sighing in defeat you decide that this would be the last time that you were going to think about the stupid boy and his stupid highlights. Whatever, he can do whatever the fuck he wants, you thought. Wanting to exchange the feelings of rejection for anger, you stomp back to your apartment not wanting to continue reliving the dreadful scene in your head

᭝ ܰ ៳ׄ 𓄳 ̤  “The picture burning in my brain, kissing in the rain.”

The following day you headed to your biology class as usual, except this time the usually empty seat next to yours is filled. The back of Beomgyu’s head burns into your vision. Instead of picking somewhere else to sit you decide to stop being a little bitch and sit in your usual spot. Taking a seat, you don’t even bother to glance at the boy sitting next to you. Instead, you focus all your attention on the front of the class, shifting uncomfortably in your seat every so often. Beomgyu doesn’t seem to be saying a word either, for the past hour he’s been jotting down notes seriously. In most cases, this would be a relief but because of the amount of tension between you, this produces more anger in you rather than content. Before you know it the class ends and you're left to pick up your things and head to the dining hall to get some lunch. That is until your ears perk up at someone calling your name from across the room. 

“Hey Y/n! Wait up for me?” Someone running behind you asks. You turn to see that Soobin is taking long strides toward you, trying to get your attention. At the same time from the corner of your eye, you can see Beomgyu turn his head in curiosity. 

You stop in your tracks to face Soobin, a sweet smile spreads across your face. 

“Hi Soobin! To what do I owe the pleasure of speaking to you today?” You ask, genuinely curious. 

This isn’t the first time you’ve interacted with the man, but it's rare. Rare enough that you are always shocked by how tall he is every time you have the chance to talk to him. His blond hair is slightly covering his eyes; you can’t help but notice how cute he looks in a pair of glasses.

“There's something that I wanted to ask you actually..” He scratches the back of his neck feeling nervous. You raise your eyebrows as you look at him, now you’re even more curious. What you don’t notice is Beomgyu trying to listen in on your conversation. 

“Okay, what is it?” 

“I was wondering if you wanted to go to the cafe across campus with me tonight?” He blurts out, a hue of red growing on his cheeks, the tips of his ears also a shade of pink in embarrassment. You let out a small laugh because of how endearing you find him.   

“Sure! I’d love to, I'll meet you there at 7?” Finalizing your plans with him, and you finally feel good about yourself for the first time in two weeks. 

You leave the lecture hall, failing to notice Beomgyu’s figure still standing by your shared desks. Too caught up in talking to Soobin to detect the energy of anger radiating off Beomgyu’s body. He can’t help but wonder if you had feelings for Soobin. What if you preferred Soobin over him? At this point you probably did, after all that he’s done. Even then, Beomgyu still felt like Soobin didn’t deserve your attention, not even a date to the cafe. 

᭝ ܰ ៳ׄ 𓄳 ̤ 

Right at seven p.m. you enter the small cafe located across your campus. You felt excited to go on this date considering it's been a while since you entertained the thought of seeing someone romantically. Thoughts of Beomgyu slowly melted away whilst Soobin started to occupy a new spot in your mind. It gave you relief, constantly wondering about Beomgyu gave you an abnormal amount of stress. Tonight isn’t about him though, it’s about you and your time with Soobin. 

The cafe was adorable. Decorations are carefully placed around the venue leaving a cute and comfortable vibe. Spotting Soobin sitting in a booth by the window, you call out his name and he looks up and smiles at you; showing off his dimples. 

“Hey! Should we go and order our drinks?” Soobin asks you, he stands up to greet you with a hug. You lean into the hug and his warmth envelopes you. A sigh is drawn out of you, not being able to remember the last time you received such soft affection. You could get used to this, you thought. Soobin was homely, and he would never confuse you the way Beomgyu does.

“Yeah let’s go.” You smile, taking his hand and walking with him to the counter. 

The both of you order your drinks taking a seat at the booth Soobin was previously sitting at before. A bell rings throughout the cafe, causing you to turn to see who walks in. Unfortunately, it's none other than Choi Beomgyu, who always seems to rain on your parade. You attempt to take your eyes off him but it’s like he's got you in a trance.

Beomgyu takes a brief look around the quiet cafe before he eventually ends up spotting you and Soobin sitting in the corner. A smirk already appears on his face, the mischievous look in his eyes emphasizes as he walks towards you two. Whatever he had planned, you already know it wasn’t going to be something you would enjoy. 

“Soobin! Y/n! Fancy seeing you guys here” He feigns surprise already sitting into the seat beside you, lodging himself in the middle of your date.

“Hey Beomgyu!” Poor, kind, and naive Soobin greets him, not knowing Beomgyu’s plan just yet. 

“What are you two doing here?” Beomgyu asks.

“Beomgyu. Soobin and I are on a date.” You finally speak up, not having the patience to deal with him. Rolling your eyes, you silently hope that this will cause Beomgyu to leave the two of you alone. The cafe was practically empty other than the worker behind the counter. This makes things even more awkward but Beomgyu doesn’t seem to have plans to leave any time soon. It’s almost as if he’s been cemented to the seat. Soobin looks at you confused, his eyebrows scrunching together cutely. You can't help but give him an apologetic smile. 

“A date… Wow, Soobin I didn’t know you have a thing for little y/n over here.” Beomgyu laughs. 

“Yeah, actually I do have a thing for her Beomgyu, and I would like to be on this date with her alone,” Soobin emphasizes. 

Beomgyu’s mischievous smile only grows wider with Soobin's words. You feel dizzy as this conversation seemingly takes a negative turn. 

“Oh my bad man, but I don’t think y/n feels the same way.” 

“Why do you say that?” Soobin’s eyebrows quirk up wanting to know what Beomgyu has to say.

 No No No No, you thought, you could already tell where this was going. Knowing Beomgyu he always has something up his sleeve. He always knew how to get under people's skin, especially yours. His way of manipulating the situation in his favour was something he was always good at. Why was he even doing all this now? You can’t help but wonder why he isn’t with the girl he was kissing yesterday. The fact that he could be doing anything else at this moment, but instead, he is ruining your date with Soobin. It's giving you whiplash, his actions never line up with one another. One day he was not speaking to you, not even anywhere to be seen on campus. Today he thinks he can ruin a perfectly fine date with someone who communicates interest in you. 

“Beomgyu. Please leave.” You’re practically begging. You turn to him, the desperation in your eyes could be seen from miles away but Beomgyu just chooses to ignore it. 

“Oh nothing important, just thought you should know y/n and I ended u-” Beomgyu was about to finish his sentence but you were quick to cut him off. You knew how that sentence was about to end but you didn’t want Soobin to judge you or see you in a negative light. Beomgyu is starting to get on your nerves now and your patience has always been on the thinner side. 

“Don't listen to him..... I’m so sorry Soob but I’m going to have to cut this date short, but I’ll text you ok? I think I need to have a conversation with Beomgyu over here.” You’re rambling now, but you need to get Beomgyu away from Soobin as soon as possible. Soobin doesn’t seem to protest, still confused. You leave your date dumbfounded as you drag Beomgyu out of the cafe, fully prepared to give him hell for his actions. 

Once you’re outside of the building and away from prying ears or eyes you begin your rant. 

“Choi Beomgyu what the fuck were you thinking following me just to ruin my date? You leave for two weeks with no explanation. No call or text, you don't even show up to class for fucks sake!” Yelling at the top of your lungs, finally able to let out all the anger that's been pent up inside you these past few weeks. 

“I’m sorry y/n but I can just sit here and watch you go on a date with him. He’s not right for you.”

“He's not right for me? Oh, that's rich coming from you, Beomgyu. If anything you’re not right for me. You fuck me, leave for 2 fucking weeks, and the next time I see you, you have your tongue shoved down someone else’s throat. But yeah, Soobin isn’t the right one for me. OK then.” You roll your eyes, sick of Beomgyus shit now, and not wanting to listen anymore. 

You walk away from him, too tired to carry on with the argument. You already feel the tears starting to well up but you try your best not to let them fall. Beomgyu wasn’t worth your tears. If you didn’t know any better you would fully believe that he only exists to make you miserable. The cold air causes you to hug yourself as you walk away. 

Out of nowhere, Beomgyu attempts to stop you, his large frame towering over you once again. 

“Beomgyu I have nothing else to say to you so please let me leave,” You speak, gritting through your teeth; and not wanting to make eye contact with him. Your eyes are looking down at your feet. 

“No,” Beomgyu states firmly. 

“No?” Now you’re pissed and you look at him like you’re about to commit a serious offence. 

“No y/n I’m not letting you go, so let me explain.” He’s pleading now, asking you to hear him out just this once. 

You roll your eyes, the cold is nipping at your skin now. You’re starting to shiver and mentally cursing yourself for not bringing a jacket. You stay silent, not feeling up for a fight with him anymore. You gesture for him to go on and an expression of relief washes over his face. He takes a step closer to you with an expression ridden with guilt. You feel confused, this is probably the first time you’ve seen him look so sorrowful. It doesn’t change the fact that you’re still angry with him for barging in on you and Soobin's peaceful date. If you were smart enough you would turn around and go back inside the cafe. But you weren’t smart enough, your feet are firmly planted on the sidewalk. Beomgyu has always had a knack for suppressing your common sense. 

“I’m sorry for ignoring you y/n. I don’t regret anything that happened that night, I just-” He stops mid-sentence, groaning with frustration. His cheeks are an obvious shade of pink and he can’t help but put his face in his hands. 

Beomgyu was never one to be able to express his emotions; even just standing here in front of you has him jumbling up all his words. He can’t help but feel nervous when you’re looking up at him so innocently. Your eyes catching the light of the moon and your nose a soft hue of pink from the cold. You’re not even aware of the effect you have on him and it only intensified after he was able to get a taste of you. You mesmerize him in every way, your soft lips, the sounds of your moans while he's inside you. It’s too much for him. 

“Go on..” You urge him to continue, getting more impatient by the minute. 

“Y/n, I’m sorry I really am. I don't know what's gotten into me. I know I’ve been gone but I just couldn’t stop thinking about you after that night. I did everything to try and forget you. I even tried to hook up with someone else, but you’ve ruined me. You’ve ruined me for everyone else and I don’t want anyone else.” Beomgyus rambling, his eyes searching for a reaction but to him your expression is unreadable. 

His words have your heart racing and you have no idea how to feel. I’ve ruined him? You thought to yourself. You couldn’t believe the words that are coming out of his mouth right now, and you feel the annoyance starting to trickle back in. 

“Beomgyu, that still doesn’t give you the right to ignore me and try to ruin my date with Soobin.” 

“I know, I know y/n, I just couldn’t help myself, the way he looks at you pisses me off so much and he doesn’t deserve you. No one does, you’re too good for anyone. Too good for me. But I want you, I want you and I can’t stand the thought of someone like Soobin being the one to fuck you every night. It should be me, not him.” His words are vulgar. You’re in shock now but you can feel the heat go straight to your legs. He’s staring at you with so much intensity that your resolve is starting to crumble. It’s too damn cold to be standing out here arguing with him. So you do what no sane person would think to do at this moment. You lean in and push your lips against his. 

Beomgyu lets out a sound of surprise but ultimately reciprocates the kiss almost immediately. Soft lips move against his fluidly while you take the opportunity to comb your fingers through his hair. You loved his long hair and how soft it feels between your fingers. You can’t help but tug at it lightly, eliciting a groan to leave Beomgyu’s mouth. His hands are holding onto your waist so tight. The hold is suffocating in the most intoxicating way. His lips, the way he tastes against your tongue is addictive. This is what you’ve been missing these past few weeks and you want to make up for lost time.

“Beomgyu.” You’re  pulling away from him, not missing the disappointed look on his face. He looks so angelic for someone who made you go through fifty different emotions in the span of an hour. He's looking at you with bedroom eyes, his hands raking up and down your waist, not wanting to let you go. The movement of his hands are causing your shirt to lift up slightly, teasingly brushing against your bare skin. “Take me home.” 

᭝ ܰ ៳ׄ 𓄳 ̤  “when the lights go out, she’s all i ever think about” 

The tension during the car ride is thick; while the music murmurs softly as Beomgyu drives towards your apartment. He is holding your thigh, running his hands up and down trying to soothe you. But it only arouses you even more, you’re practically counting down the seconds till you reach your place. You felt nervous even though this isn’t your first time being intimate with him, but these two weeks apart felt like an eternity.

Finally after the longest 10 minute drive of your life, you reach your destination. The street lights are dim and your neighbourhood is practically deserted. The only disturbance was the sound of the music playing from the car’s speakers, as well as the loud thumping of your own heartbeat. The moon is still high in the evening sky illuminating all that's below it. You’re starting to get antsy, your thoughts running a million miles per hour. All you can think about is wanting to feel Beomgyu inside you again. 

Beomgyu gets out of the car walking over to the passenger side; he opens the door for you, taking your hand to guide you. This is probably the first time you’ve seen Beomgyu act so sweet. You mumble a thank you and smile softly to yourself. You could get used to this, you thought, hoping that this thing between you and Beomgyu is more than another hook-up. 

He takes a hold of your hand without saying another word, his fingers interlocking with your own. You squeeze his hand lightly signalling that you like it. He looks at you and with a meek smile, he looks shy, probably anticipating what's going to happen next. You both find your way to the elevator and your hands are still intertwined, he doesn’t want to let you go ever again. If the car ride here felt like forever, the elevator ride up was tenfold. You squirm while the elevator takes its time going up each floor. Your heart still feels like it's about to explode; until you hear that fateful ding indicating you’ve made it to your floor. 

Beomgyu is still holding your hand as you lead him to the front door of your apartment. You bend down slightly to put your code in, your stomach flips as you feel Beomgyu’s presence behind you. His breath fanning over the back of your neck; the proximity allows you to be engulfed in his scent. He smells sweet in the best way possible, it was intoxicating. You would want to be buried in his scent for as long as time allows. 

The door opens with a click, the two of you still holding hands; you pull him past the doorway and kiss him with more passion and vigour than the last time. His hands fly to your waist taking off your coat. Rapidly both your shoes and Beomgyu’s jacket come off in the process of making your way to your room. 

Your hand in his hair once again, tugging it just to hear the soft noises he makes as you do so. Suddenly, he has you against the door, his lips never leaving your skin. He's pressing hot kisses onto your neck making sure to leave marks where everyone could see. You let out soft sighs relishing in the feeling of him against you once again. Your hands are holding onto his biceps firmly, you know if you let go your legs would give out and you would fall to the floor.  While you grip onto him his hands start to leave your waist moving towards the button on your jeans. 

“I can’t get enough of you y/n.” Beomgyu whispers in your ear as he unbuttons your jeans. You can only keep kissing down his neck in response, nipping at his skin. Your pants fall to the floor and you're left in your lacy underwear. Beomgyu leaves your touch to take a good look at you, his eyes darkening with want. The prominent dick print on his jeans showing you how hard he is for you right now. The wetness between your legs is starting to become uncomfortable, now you're rubbing your thighs together to feel some sort of relief. 

You can’t help but look down to take a peek at the bulge in Beomgyu’s pants. Feeling excited, you turn towards the bed while taking his hand. You lead him to the bed, pushing on his chest lightly so he falls back onto the mattress. He takes off the rest of his clothes, patting his lap motioning for you to come and take a seat. You do as he says and sit on him, straddling him between your legs. He leans on his elbows enjoying the view. He sucks in a breath as he watches you take off your shirt, not wearing a bra underneath.

Beomgyu’s head is dizzy with thoughts of you, his imagination causing his dick to pulse within his boxers. Seemingly he’s had enough of your little show, ready to pound you till you cry. He brings you in for a kiss once again, loving the feeling of your hands on him. He doesn’t want this to be the last time he gets to touch you. He wants you to be his forever if it was possible. 

Your hand reaches down past his boxers and strokes his hard cock, rubbing the precum against his length to lubricate him. His grip on your waist tightens to the point that it will leave bruises, you don't care though. You love seeing how weak he gets when he is in your hands. He moans into the kiss, rutting his hips to stimulate the feeling even more. You keep kissing his face, his neck, anywhere you have access to. Your hand is still rubbing him up and down, he was so big that your hands looked tiny in comparison. 

Beomgyu’s had enough with your teasing, he flips you so your back is laying flat on the bed, ripping your underwear off with ease. His actions elicit a moan to escape your lips. His kisses start at your face and he slowly lowers himself down your body. Stopping at your breasts, massaging one while his mouth is wrapped around the other. You're moaning at the feeling, gasping as he grazes his teeth lightly against your sensitive nipples. You're writhing beneath him and he's barely even touched you. Your head is spinning and Beomgyu doesn’t have any plans to stop pleasuring you. 

Feeling satisfied with his work on your chest he finally situates himself between your legs. “Look at you, all wet already and I’ve barely even started.” He laughs into the heat of your glistening folds.   You're whining at this point, gripping on to his hair again trying to get him to finally touch you. He immediately shuts you up by giving you a quick slap on your core. You yelp and he's laughing again, looking up at you from between your thighs. Glaring  at him with your cheeks fully flushed. 

“Beomgyu I swear to god if you-oh.” Your sentence is cut short because Beomgyu lays a flat long strip against your cunt. He's licking up all your juices, groaning at the sweet taste of you. 

“Ah shit baby you taste so good” His groans are sending vibrations to you, leaving you moaning with your eyes squeezed shut with pleasure. He continues his ministrations licking you all up as if he's been starved for days. His nose is bumping into your clit and your hips are moving against his head trying to stimulate it even more. One of his hands is holding your hip down as the other is slithering its way to prod your entrance. You begin to see stars, the pleasure starting to become too much for you to handle. He inserts his long finger into your weeping pussy and the squelches of your wetness bounce off the walls alongside your moans. Your legs shake as they clench around Beomgyu’s head. Without a second thought he begins to suck your clit as his fingers are pumping in and out of you. 

“Don't stop please baby, I'm about to cum.” You say breathlessly and Beomgyu takes this as a sign to work harder. His fingers go in and out of you faster; his tongue giving your clit kitten licks all at the same time. You feel a rush come over your whole body, you're lightheaded and deciding to finally let go. Your moaning his name over and over, he continues to finger you diligently letting you ride out your high. 

“You’re so wet for me every single time, you only get like this for me don't you darling?” Beomgyu’s looking at you, all the while you're still trying to catch your breath from your orgasm. Beomgyu quickly shifts into a position where you and him are face to face, your legs now around his hips. You whine still feeling sensitive and he grabs you by the neck pushing your face closer to his. “Answer me properly y/n.” 

“Yes its only for y-you, please Beomgyu I want you to fuck me.” You’re begging him and he laughs at you. 

“Look at you. You’re crying ‘cause you want my cock that bad?” the grip tightens around your neck and you start to feel that familiar fuzzy feeling. 

“Yes please please please, I want it so bad. I want your cock inside me please.” Your gasping, trying hard to speak properly with his hand still clasped around your neck. 

“Good. No ones going to fuck you like I do. Not even Soobin.” He removes his hands from your neck letting one settle on your thigh, holding it up to wrap around his waist. Beomgyu’s actions are excruciatingly slow as he grabs his cock, lining it up with the entrance of your soaking cunt. A frustrated whine leaves your mouth and you're moving your hips to try and feel some sort of stimulation. Beomgyu slaps your thigh hard in response, leaving a red mark which rightfully shuts you up. His length is now rubbing up and down your folds, bumping into your clit ever so slightly. 

Grabbing onto his biceps, your head lolls back. There's a moan bubbling up your throat and it's cut off abruptly by the feeling of Beomgyu shoving his entire cock inside you. Your soft moan has now turned into a high pitched scream. You can’t seem to get enough of his cock. The way it fills your walls deliciously; his dick kissing your cervix with every thrust so easily. You stare at him, your mouth agape. “Faster please Gyu, feels so good.” 

Beomgyu doesn’t have to be told twice, his thrusts gaining speeds as he fucks you like he hasn’t felt your touch for a million years. The headboard is banging against the wall and the sound of skin slapping echoes around your room. He can’t help but admire the way you look underneath him. He thinks you look so pretty when you’re taking his cock so well. Happily thrusting into you, knowing that he’s here fucking you dumb instead of that loser Soobin. Beomgyu whole-heartedly believes that your pussy feels like it was made only for him, the tightness of your gummy walls sending him into overdrive. 

The moans that leave your mouth as he slides in and out of you is like music to his ears. He slows his thrusts, moving your legs to place them against his shoulders, fucking you in a new angle. The new position has you moaning louder than before. Thrusting faster now-Beomgyu is hitting that angle inside you that drives you crazy. The wet sounds coming from him fucking you increases in volume, the feeling leaving you drooling and a hot mess under his touch. 

“Gyu I’m gonna cum again please keep going.” breathlessly you can't help but beg for more. If it was possible you would ask Beomgyu to fuck you all night long. 

You’re heat is clenching around him tighter with each long thrust that he takes. He loves to stare down in between you two, seeing him slide in out of you so easily. The white ring of your cum covering the hilt of his cock. It drives him absolutely insane. You drive him absolutely insane, and he knows for sure that he can’t let you leave. 

“Your pussy is so fucking good baby, I wanna be inside you forever.” Beomgyu says, pushing your legs till they're folded against your chest. The position burns but the feeling of his cock inside you mixes with the pain. If you died tomorrow you would die a happy girl. You were practically in heaven with the way Beomgyu was fucking you right now. If it was possible you wouldn’t need anything else but his cock. “‘M gonna cum, lemme cum inside you please.” 

You nod, looking at him with desperate eyes, not being able to speak. The pleasure is overtaking your senses and Beomgyu’s thrusts turn erratic. You clench around his cock, cumming for the second time tonight, and your own orgasm sends Beomgyu into his own.  His hot seed fills you up till it starts to leak out of you. You love the feeling of his dick twitching inside you, and the way his cum makes you feel full. Beomgyu doesn’t remove himself from you, instead he kisses your forehead, his dick resting peacefully in your heat. 

“You’re such a good little slut aren't you. Always taking me so well.” He mumbles, your legs now around his waist, his face buried into the side of your neck. He gives you kisses while running his hands up and down your thighs soothing you.

“I only want you Gyu, no one else. Not Soobin. You.” You’re reassuring him, jealous Beomgyu filling your mind now. Although you find it hot when he’s jealous, it was also scary to see how much he's capable of. 

 “Good. I only want you too.” 

  Your hands run through his hair, planting a soft kiss on the top of his head. He looks up at you, completely mesmerized by how beautiful you look after he fucked you so good. Beomgyu wants to be able to see you in this light more than just once, forever, if possible. The after sex glow and lightly flushed cheeks has his dick twitching inside you. Giggling, you clench around him to show that you’re up for another round. 

“Dont you dare do that again, or im fucking you till you cant take any more of me.” He warns, his voice is low and his eyes are filled with the same aforementioned lust. You laugh at him and repeat the action. This is going to be a long night, you think to yourself. Fed up with your teasing, Beomgyu flips you over onto your stomach. Harshly inserting himself in you again, giving your ass a sharp slap. 

end  ˖ ࣪ ꒷ ࣪˖

© wonustars

[stvrfir0]

We can't be safe forever.

Demon Dean Winchester x fem reader

you sprint down the hallway of the Bunker, the flashing red light and accompanying alarm making this feel exactly like a horror movie. How the hell had it come to this!? Dean was after you, he wanted you, in more ways than just the usual sense of the word, and if he caught you. "Come on sweetheart, you can't hide from me!" Dean's voice echoes eerily through the halls, his accompanying laugh sending shivers down your spine. You're on your own, and so, so screwed.

Y/n was running down the halls as her heels click. The Bunker halls echo with the sound of your heels against the tiles, signalling your every movement to the one hunting you. He grins to himself as he stalks in your general direction, eyes narrowed and focused solely on catching up with you. "Here little mouse....." he sings out, licking his lips as he hears you get farther away, the thrill of the chase getting to him a little.

Y/n throws her heels a different direction

Deans eyebrows shoot up in surprise as he hears the heels clatter down a hallway to his left. "Clever little thing" he murmurs, changing directions. He keeps his footsteps as quiet as possible, wanting to try and catch you unaware. His heart beats with excitement, his eyes practically glowed with the thrill of hunting you down

He reaches the end of the new hallway, his eyes darting around for any sign of you. He spots the discarded heels on the floor by a row of bookshelves, a pleased smirk growing on his face as he slowly and silently pads closer to the area

He crouches next to your abandoned heels, lightly running his fingers over the thin straps. He shakes his head affectionately and murmurs a soft "cheeky minx" to himself, his mind already imagining exactly what you looked like in the rest of that dress and trying desperately to rein his thoughts in.

He stays knelt in front of the shoes for a moment, his mind still spinning. He scoffs and shakes his head, looking up and taking in the sight before him. Rows and rows of books, all carefully placed on their respective shelves.

Deans eyes scan the rows of bookshelves, a sly smirk on his face. He knows you're somewhere near, he can feel it in his bones. He stands up, moving silently down the long row, keeping his eyes and ears open for any sign of you.

He stops and cranes his head slightly, hearing a soft sound come from a few rows over. His smirk grows, and he moves towards the sound. You were going to be in so much trouble...he couldn't wait to catch you.

Dean reaches the end of the row he was in and carefully peeks down the next, his hands clenching and unclenching in anticipation. He can hear you moving amongst the rows, your soft and cautious footsteps ringing out in the quiet Bunker. He steps from the shadows, his eyes immediately narrowing as he sees you standing with your back to him.

He takes a few slow and purposeful steps forward, a wide smirk on his face. "No point in hiding sweet cheeks. I've already found you..," he murmurs, his voice taking on a darker, huskier tone. His eyes rake up and down your figure, enjoying how his favourite black dress hugs your curves in all the right places. His tongue swipes across his bottom lip at just the sight of you. Y/n gulps "we can talk about this..."

Dean continues to advance, moving closer and closer until he has you backed up against a bookshelf, your back pressed against the wooden surface. His hands come up to land against the bookshelf on either side of your head, effectively trapping you. He leans in, his body flush against yours, his voice low and dangerous "We can talk about it afterwards. There's something else I want to do first....,"

He moves closer, his chest now pressed against yours, his head lowering so he can speak directly into your ear "You have no idea what you're doing to me sweet stuff...walking around, looking like that and thinking I wouldn't just lose it and hunt you down....." His hands come down from the shelf, his left hand gripping your hip firmly, the other tangling into your hair and gently tugging so your head tilts back, giving him a perfect view of your now exposed neck and collarbones. Y/n groans "ow.."

Deans eyes rake down the expanse of smooth, flawless skin in front of him, his grip a little tighter in your hair "Shhh....don't give me these pretty little sounds sweetheart" He smirks and moves his head down, nuzzling just below your ear, his warm breath washing over your skin in a way that sends a shiver down your entire spine

He continues nuzzling at your neck, his nose gently tracing over the soft skin. His teeth graze against your pulse point before his mouth sucks in the flesh, determined to leave a nice big mark where everyone would see it - a warning to anyone who thought they could touch you, only one man got to do that.

He brings the hand on your hip up to your shoulder, his fingers slipping under the thin strap of the dress. He moves his head up to look at you, his pupils blown wide and his breathing coming in fast and heavy. A small growl escapes him "Damnit...how'd you get this on by yourself..." Y/n smiles "it's a girl thing"

He groans softly, his tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip as he tugs at the strap, trying to figure out a way to get the dress off you. His eyes roam over the deep v-neck, the material stretching over your gorgeous curves "You've been holding out on me sweetheart....I should punish you for letting this other people see my girl like this....,"

He growls again in frustration, trying to pull the strap down but the angle and tightness of the dress makes it impossible. He presses even closer, the hand on your hip sliding down behind you, gripping your ass in a firm grip.

Deans hands move to your waist suddenly, his grip tight as he spins your body around quickly so your back is to him. His left hand goes back to your hair, his right hand on your hip and he pulls your body back, against his hard cock, forcing you to bend forward towards the bookshelf in front of you Y/n gasp "Dean!"

His hand is still tangled in your hair, keeping your head tilted back so he can speak directly in your ear. You can feel his chest rising and falling against your back, his breathing heavy as he growls lowly "You have no idea how many times I've imagined how this would go, you and me, up against the bookshelf in the library, my hands all over you....,"

The hand on your hip moves further up, his fingertips tracing over the bare skin at the bottom of the dress. He's breathing faster now, his voice raspier as he struggles to control himself "I didn't think you'd be so damn stubborn. You've put me through hell for the last few weeks, you know that? Walking around like this, teasing the hell out of me, and then running away....it drives me crazy sweetheart.....,"

He moves closer, his hips pressing against you, the hardness of his cock as he grinds slowly against you. The hand at your hip moves higher, until his fingers are toying with the edge of your panties. He tugs gently, the fabric riding up a little, the action making the strap of your dress slip down further, exposing even more skin to his hungry eyes. Y/n gasp and moans "Dean..."

Hearing the sound of your gasp and moan only spurs him on. He groans in response, his hand leaving your hair and coming up to your chin, tilting your head to the side, giving him access to your neck "You like teasing me then princess? Is that what it is? You like knowing what you do to me, how you make me come undone...," His teeth graze against the sensitive skin below your ear, his tongue tracing a path down the side of your neck.

His other hand is still toy with the top of your panties. His fingertips tracing lightly over the lace. His breathing is faster now, his hips still grinding against yours, trying to relieve some of the aching he's feeling. "You drive me crazy, you know that? Everything you do, what you wear...it's driving me mad....," He groans, his tongue tracing a path from the back of your earlobe up to the top of your shoulder

He pulls the strap of your dress down again, giving him access to your shoulder. He places kiss after kiss down the exposed skin "You're mine. No one elses. I'll prove it....," He lifts his head and runs his nose up the side of your neck, breathing in your intoxicating scent before his teeth nip at your ear.

The hand at your hip moves around to the front, his fingers tracing over the soft material of the dress, his palm resting over your stomach. He slides it down slightly, fingers finding the edge of the dress and slowly pushing it up, exposing more of your bare skin to his lust filled eyes.

"I need to see you sweetheart, I need to touch you....," He murmurs against your skin, his palm rubbing slow circles over your stomach, so close to where you need him. His left hand comes up, fingers tracing over the soft skin on the back of your neck.

He spins you around again, so you're facing him this time. The hand on your stomach moves to your hip, holding you in place while he looks you up and down, his eyes roaming over every inch of exposed skin, drinking in the sight of you in your current state. A low growl escapes his lips again, his desire for you so clear in his eyes.

His mouth crashes against yours in a bruising kiss, his tongue seeking yours as his hips grind against you, his body aching. He pulls away from the kiss, his lips moving to your ear, his voice a low, ragged whisper.

His hips move again, his body rubbing against you just right, his breath coming out in ragged gasps, his mind so lost to pleasure that coherent words seem a difficult task, one that requires more brain power than he's currently capable of filling you up.

He can't take it anymore, the feeling of you rubbing against him, the sounds of your moans and the taste of your skin driving him wild. He positions himself at your entrance, the tip of him just resting against you, his hardness aching to be inside

Y/n looks at him "please.." He meets your gaze, his eyes so clouded with lust it's difficult to see any green. He can't hold back much longer but he can't help but tease you one more time. His hands grip your hips, holding them firmly in place, his body still pressed against you."Mmm you're gonna have to beg a little harder than that sweetheart....,"

Y/n looks at him "please I need you" He groans as your whine, his hips jerking forward almost of their own accord, his body struggling to hold back. But he restrains himself, his hands digging into your hips, his voice coming out in a low, dangerous growl. "Please what sweetheart? You have to be specific,"

Y/n sighs "I need you.." He groans again, his body reacting to your words, desperate to give you what you're begging for, but still he holds back. He leans down, his lips next to your ear, his voice low and intense "And what are you going to give me in return sweetheart?,"

Y/n smiles softly "anything you want.." He groans low, his body pressing even harder against you, his hips grinding against you again, the feeling of him just at your entrance driving him wild "You're being pretty naughty sweetheart....giving yourself to me like that... letting me do whatever I want...," He mutters, his lips running over your neck, his teeth gently nipping at the skin

He groans at your desperate actions, struggling to hold himself together much longer. With one final hard grind against you, he finally gives in and pulls his hips back just enough to position himself at your entrance, but he doesn't push in just yet, his eyes still looking into yours, his voice a low, rough hiss "Are you sure sweetheart?,"

Y/n nods "mhm" He moans at your eagerness, his arms wrapping around you, holding you against him as he slowly pushes himself inside of you, his lips going to your neck, his eyes shutting again as he fights to hold onto what little sanity he has left "Oh god sweetheart...," He moans, his voice muffled as he buries his face in your shoulder

He stops for a moment, pausing once he buried himself completely inside you, every breath coming out in a ragged gasp, his head still buried against your shoulder, his body practically shaking with the effort to hold back, to give you time to adjust to him. Y/n breaths heavily "mmm yes"

He groans and moves, slowly pulling back just a little before thrusting forward again, his teeth nipping at your shoulder, his body taking over, instincts taking control as he picks up a slow, steady rhythm. Y/n moans "mmm please go faster.."

He groans low at your words, his brain struggling to understand what you're saying. He can't think straight anymore, every cell in his body focused on the feel of you, the sound of your moans, the taste of your skin. "You want me to go faster sweetheart?," Y/n nods "yes please.." she touches his cheek

He groans again, his body responding to your touch. He looks into your face, your skin flushed, your eyes half-lidded, lips parted, and he almost loses all control. A low growl escapes his throat, his hands gripping your hips tighter as he starts to thrust into you faster, his breathing becoming rapid and ragged

The sound of your scream makes his head swim, his mind so overwhelmed with the feel of you, with the sound of your voice, the sight of your body responding so beautifully to his touch that he can't do anything but moan your name "Oh sweetheart....you feel so damn good....," He groans

Y/n moans "don't... don't stop" The words send a shock straight to his core, his hips start moving even faster than before, his body taking on a life of it's own, chasing after the pleasure, pushing the limits of his self-control. It's all he can do to keep himself from completely losing all self-control "Fuck sweetheart....I don't think I could even if you begged me too....," He gasps out the words, his voice low and rough

Y/n moans "I'm so close" He can tell you're close from the sounds of your moans, the way your body is responding to him, how your hands are grasping at him desperately, and it takes everything he has left to hold it together "Come for me sweetheart...I want to feel you come for me...,"

The feeling of you coming undone around him finally pushes him over the edge, he gasps out your name, holding you tight against him as he rides out his own orgasm, his body trembling and shuddering, waves of pleasure coursing through him, his mind going blank as he loses himself completely in the pleasure of you

Y/n moans "come for me dean" she says softly your words send a thrill through him, he's already so close, but the sound of you begging him pushes him even closer to the edge "Oh sweetheart....I'm so close....," He gasps, his voice ragged, strained with the effort to hold on

His body is taut with tension, every muscle strained with the effort to hold back, but he can't resist any longer, your words and the feel of filling you up.

He groans loudly, overwhelmed by pleasure as he finally comes, shuddering against you, his hand grasping your hips so tightly you're sure he'll leave fingerprints behind, his whole body tense as he rides out the waves of pleasure, his mind completely blank, focused only on you

Y/n groans and moans. He collapses against you, his body shaking for a few moments as he comes down from the high of his orgasm, his breath coming out in ragged gasps, his head buried against your neck, his arms wrapped tight around you

Y/n gasp and closes her eyes as she felt his come inside of her "that's was so good" He groans at you words, still too spent to form a coherent thought, let alone a proper response. He holds you tight against him, his heart beating furiously, his mind still in a daze from the sheer intensity of what just happened

Eventually his breathing began to slow, and his mind starts to clear. He slowly lifts his head to look at you, his gaze meeting yours, his expression still full of lust, but there's something else now, something soft and tender, a hint of vulnerability, that surprises even him

Y/n smiles softly and kisses his forehead. He closes his eyes, melting a little at the soft kisses you place on his forehead. He lets out a quiet sigh, moving so he's lying next to you rather than on top of you, his arms still wrapped around you, holding you close against him. There's a moment of silence as he gathers his thoughts, his heart finally starting to return to a normal pace

[asunflowerana]

how to crash a library date

with: Oikawa Tooru as your secret admirer

warnings: nothing but pure humor and fluff. oh, and also, Iwazumi is here hehe.

a/n: request of @suosteacup for the How to Crash a Date blog event. Thank you for joining darlin', hope you enjoy it 😊💕

"Iwa-kun, how copy?"

"I'm literally beside you, you idiot!" A smack comes hot against Tooru's nape, making him flinch and almost step out of his hideout — which is just one of the wooden bookshelves around the college's library.

Why he's getting such a hostile treatment? Everything he did was nag Hajime all afternoon until he gave up on the hope of being freed and let himself being dragged to the library to help him out with his "unrequited love", as he likes to name his situation with you.

Which is actually him being too much of a chicken to come up and ask you out. But he'd never admit that out loud.

"O-okay, she's there, what should I do now?" He concerns, not used to not knowing what to say to a girl. Imagine that, Oikawa Tooru, best setter of the team's college, getting all sweaty hands to speak to a lady?

Hajime squints, slowly fuming inside. "What do you mean 'what should I do now'? Don't you have a plan?"

Tooru shushes him, checking you out through a gap between the books in case you heard his unpleasant loud friend. As he sees you're still taking notes — so beautiful concentrated, he adds — he returns his focus to the brown-haired boy beside him.

"Look, I brought you here to help me out, Iwa-kun. If you don't want to, fine, you can— Wait, I didn't told you to leave!" He holds tightly on his friend arm as soon as he moves to walk out. "C'mon man, I'm desperate... You know how much I like her. If I don't do something now, I might lose her for good..."

Oikawa is for sure the most irritating person he knows; but as much as he gives him many migraines, he's still his best friend. And by the crestfallen look on his face, he really means his words. It's rare the times where Tooru doesn't feel confident on his own to do things or get what he wants.

You must be really special.

Relenting, he sighs. "Fine... I'll help you out." And after a few seconds of pondering and thinking, a light bulb shines in his mind. Tooru gets hopeful, even more when he hears the magic words "I have an idea" coming out of his friend's mouth; but he can't help but also gulp as soon as he sees a mischievous grin growing on Hajime's face.

It's been five minutes since Han, your nice colleague from History class, meets you in the library to start one of the group essays Mr. Irihata requested for next week. It's the first time you both do it together, as he proposed early, and it's going better than you expected, to be honest. It's not everyday that you find a freshman who actually cares about his grades.

It's all very peaceful, until you both hear a loud bang.

You're on your feet, startled and scanning the room to see what happened. Just a few meters away from the table you've been sat, it's Tooru, swallowed by a dozen of books that you guess fell on top of him, considering the bookshelf also fallen on the floor beside his body.

You hurriedly goes after him, crunching down and helping him get away of the sea of "juvenile literature". He's lucky these books aren't heavy like some others. Helping you save the injured man, comes Iwazumi from nowhere, making you feel a bit more at ease since you'd probably need to carry Oikawa to the infirmary room.

"Owww." The book's victim groans, finally being freed of all the physical literature early above him. He brushes his left arm, which you can see it has some reddish spots forming on it.

"Tooru, what happened?" You worriedly ask, placing a hand on his shoulder while checking his face to see if there's any severe bruise.

Hajime can only watch as his plan develops.

"Oh, I-I was just looking for a book at the top, and the whole thing came down on me." He titters, resting a hand on the back of his head. "But I'm fine, really, no need to worry about me, sweet _____."

You can't help but chuckle. When he finally decides to give a chance to a real book this year, he gets in a accident at the most peaceful place inside campus. Oikawa is surely out of this world.

"C'mon, I'll help you, you should see the nurse just in case." With Iwazumi's help, you both support Tooru's body with ease, since he doesn't seem injured on his legs. He uses your shoulders as support though, and follows and you lead him to the exit. You offer an apologetic look to Han, letting him know you won't be able to continue your study session for now.

You miss the exchange of smirks and glances between the two best friends.

© asunflowerana 2024 — all rights reserved.

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

Bateman Begins Part 42

Previous Part | Masterlist | Next Part

Notes: I'm aiming to have 3-4 more chapters before wrapping this up. Just a heads up.

Pairing: Nathan Bateman x Reader

Rating: M

There's police tape criss-crossing the front entrance, and across a few of the windows

The kitchen door is untouched

The camera outside of it appears to be disabled

You scour around, spotting a large rock

It's cool and heavy as you pick it up, and you find yourself wincing before you even throw the damn thing.

The shattering seems ear-splitting in the relative silence around the mansion.

"Sorry, Alfred," You mutter as you slide your sleeve down over your hand, reaching through the broken pane to unlock the door.

The quiet is eerie as you walk around. The mansion has always been enormous, but walking through it alone and hearing the echo of your footsteps makes your stomach churn with discomfort.

Are the cops monitoring this place? They must be, right? Is there anyone stationed nearby, watching the house?

You do not have time to be booked for breaking and entering

And how would that even play in the press?

Deranged Bateman Enterprises Employee Returns to Gotham and Breaks Into Missing Boss' House

Vicki Vale would probably love that.

At least you have an alibi for whatever the hell happened.

And what the hell did happen?

You duck beneath the police tape cordoning off his lab, looking around.

There's police tape across the window there, too. If police had seen Bateman—well, Batman—leaving through there...

You turn to the bookshelves as you consider the possibilities.

Maybe Nathan had to have been coming or going, saw the police and ran.

But to not come back?

Something must have been deeply wrong.

You walk over to the bookshelf, gently levering down Nathan's false copy of Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep and waiting as the bookshelf sinks to the side.

You walk cautiously toward it, eyeing the elevator. The structure seems secure; nothing appears to be out of place.

You step onto it and pull the lever to lower yourself into the cave.

You turn to look down, listening as the clanking of the machinery awakens some of its bat inhabitants.

Everything in the cave seems as untouched as the mansion. You press your hand to the biometric scanner, looking up as the screens come to life.

Camera first, you think.

Maybe some of the questions that you have can be solved by whatever footage you can get from the mansion.

But when you try to view the logs from the past few days, access is denied.

There's a password protection of Nathan's that you can't override.

You try everything that you can possibly think of, but nothing pops.

You're in the middle of attempting to override his security when a livestream of the news catches your eye.

Your brow furrows as you eye the runner:

CLOWN GANG UNLEASHES CHAOS IN GOTHAM—MAYOR GARCIA INSTITUTES CURFEW

You reach down, turning up the volume on that feed.

The anchor's voice crackles slightly before steadying:

"For our top story: Gotham has been gripped by fear as a gang of masked perpetrators wreak havoc on the city. Authorities have struggled to contain the situation, with the Gotham PD launching a city-wide manhunt. Graffiti of clown figures and Joker cards have appeared on buildings across the city, with the rate of their creation outpacing the city's ability to cover or remove them. Mayor Garcia has mandated a city-wide curfew in attempt to stem the rising tide of clown-related crimes. Meanwhile, rumors continue to circulate about the disappearance of both Nathan Bateman and Batman. Some are questioning whether the billionaire has chosen to resume the hermitage that he held after college, or if he's being held for ransom by the masked vigilante. Others speculate that Batman is somehow behind the growing clown posse."

The footage flickered to an older woman on the street, her brows knitted as a microphone is thrust into her face.

"I've never seen this many clowns in my life. Not once. Not even when the circus came to town. Not even when I met my ex-husband's family."

You frown as the footage flickered to a familiar face—one that turns your stomach.

Vicki looks a little flighty, and hardly stands still to answer the question that the reporter poses. Her face is pinched; there are dark bags under her eyes as she gives a staccato reply:

"No one has ever seen Nathan Bateman and Batman in the same room, have they? No one. His last name is one letter away—has anyone ever considered that?"

You scoff, shaking your head.

She's right, of course, but that doesn't exactly settle your nerves.

The news turns to another interview—a young man with closely cropped hair, his features obscured behind a thick smear of white makeup and overdrawn red lips.

"Why's everyone getting so worked up over a little makeup?" His face splits into a grin as he grasps the microphone and runs away with it, cackling gleefully into it.

You wince at the sound of the laugh, a chill running down your spine as it pricks memories of your nightmares.

The footage cuts back to the anchor in the studio shuffling their papers before they fold their hands over their notes.

"Commissioner Gordon has urged citizens to remain vigilant and report and sightings of suspicious acrobatics, or people wearing an excessive amount of makeup or face paint."

You reach out, turning the volume back down as you lean back, eyeing the other news feeds.

"Jesus, Nathan," You sigh. "What the hell happened?"

--

You can't stop staring at the trash can.

Why the hell did Nathan keep them?

No—No, it can't be the same trash that it was when you left. You haven't been in the Blue Room in almost two years.

You came up in the vain hope that you may have a thing or two left in here, but...It's the same.

Everything is the same.

The designer clothing and bags that Nathan got you are still in the drawers and closet.

Your favorite products are still in the ensuite bathroom.

And as you crouch down and pick up one of the crumpled pieces of paper, your blood running cold as you spot your handwriting.

You drop it again and straighten up, bracing your hands on the desk as your chest tightens.

Why did he leave it like this? Did he close the door and forget about it?

Did he think you were coming back—

You turn away, pushing a low groan out as you shake your tingling hands out, trying to push back your conflicting confusion and hope.

Fuck, whatever it was won't matter until you figure out what the fuck happened—

Bzzzzzz

You freeze at the sound of the brief buzz. It stops as suddenly as it starts...

You wonder if maybe you imagined it—

Bzzzzz

You look around the room, frowning. What the hell is that?

It's close enough that you can hear it, but it's not in the room anywhere.

Bzzzzz

You step into the hall, following the sound toward Nathan's room.

You find yourself raising your hand to knock, then shake your head. No one is in there, right?

You're still hesitant to open the door, wincing at its creaking before you step inside. The buzz grows louder as you approach his bedside table.

You open the drawer and find it...Empty.

But you can still hear and now feel the vibration. You knock on the bottom of the drawer, thrilling as you hear the hollow thonk.

It takes a few tries, but you find the small tab to lift the false bottom and find...

A flip phone.

A flip phone? Why the hell would Nathan have a flip phone?

This seems like the kind of thing that he would've mocked you for having when you first met.

You pull the phone out of the drawer, eyeing the caller ID.

C.G.

You hesitate before you flip it open, raising it to your ear.

You don't speak, you just listen.

For a moment, you hear nothing. And then—

"Where the hell have you been, man?"

The man's voice is familiar. It's on the tip of your tongue...

"Still not talking?" He pushes. "You're lucky I'm not tracing this call after all the shit you pulled. Look—the mayor is on my ass. I need you to meet me tonight, usual time, usual place."

You flounder wordlessly before you push out the lowest, gruffest answer you can: "Can't."

You wince. Damn—You couldn't sound like Nathan if you tried.

The man's so flustered that he doesn't seem to notice.

"The hell do you mean, can't? You can't go AWOL like this. I need you to rattle some cages. I've got a lead on this clown gang, but I can't go after it myself."

You scrub your hand over your face. You can't go after them the way Nathan could, but you could do some research, right?

"Send the information," You grit out.

"It's too sensitive to send."

Fuckssake.

"...I'll send an address and time," You manage before snapping the phone shut.

You stare at the phone for a few moments, braced as if it'll explode.

When the man doesn't call back, you push out a soft, relieved breath.

Alright, you need somewhere you can meet whoever this is—somewhere you know the terrain, have the upper hand.

You may have once promised Nathan that you'd never go back to the Narrows without him, but he isn't there.

You are. You need answers.

Whatever this person has might lead you to Nathan.

But how the hell are you going to turn up without revealing who you are to...Whoever this is?

--

Nathan's armor is too heavy for you.

You're not in bad shape, but Nathan is strong in a way that you aren't.

You can pair down...Can't you?

You don't need all of the armor. If you play this right, whatever this meeting is won't end in conflict.

But you have a bigger problem than the armor.

You can't growl all night. That little bit in the bedroom hurt, and you'll never get away sounding the way you did in person.

You look around the lab, trying to cobble your thoughts together.

The helmet. You'll start with the helmet.

You'll need to adjust the design to include a voice modulator.

Okay. You can do this.

You've sent the C.G. contact an address and a time. You'll meet with him at five to midnight. You have eight hours.

You need to make the voice modulator first.

Once that's done, you'll go through the cave and see if any of the lighter kevlar that you designed and ordered is still there.

You're not as worried about covering your legs, but your arms, chest, neck, and voice are what you're worried about tonight.

With any luck, this is the only iteration of this suit that you'll need, and the only time that you'll need to wear it.

Tag list: @blueeyesatnight ; @massivecolorspygiant ; @foxilayde @danniburg ; @brandyllyn ; @missredherring ; @the-feckless-wonder ; @ew-erin ; @xocalliexo ; @youngkenobilove ; @chattychell ; @lorecraft  ; @thembosapphicclown ; @buckybarneshairpullingkink

[ponyosmom35]

bookshelves and dinner

Simon Ghost Riley x reader

Liability series chapter twenty five

synopsis: simon helps reader build a bookshelf, to thank him for his work she tries to make him a special dinner, which does not turn out the way she hoped.

Liability:

https://www.tumblr.com/ponyosmom35/733401347573088256/simon-ghost-riley?source=share

“Si no, you don’t have to do that” she refuses crossing her arms

“I want to” he shrugs as he opens the massive box containing her bookshelf and takes out the individual items, organizing them. 

“I feel bad-”

“Why would you feel bad? Its no problem” 

“I do appreciate it, I was in way over my head with this”

“Thats why you have me” he smiles, she laughs and wraps her arms around his neck, placing a kiss on his cheek 

She was thrilled by the idea, but had admitted that she had little to no knowledge about carpentry. Simon, with his patient demeanor, assured her that he would guide her through the process. 

As Simon unpacked the tools and laid out the wooden planks, she gazed at the pile of materials with a mix of excitement and confusion. "Where do we start?" she asked, slightly intimidated by the task at hand.

Simon chuckled, "No worries, love. We'll take it step by step." He began reading the instructions.

Throughout the day, she attempted to contribute offering a pair of spare hands if necessary. Simon, with his gentle guidance and encouragement, turned the shelf-building session into a conversation about their most embarrassing moments. Laughing as she described how she passed out after someone drew her blood once in medical school. 

As the day progressed, the bookshelf began to take shape. Simon's strong and steady hands worked tirelessly, making precision cuts and securing the wooden pieces together. 

By the evening, the massive shelf stood proudly in the middle of her library, ready to house her beloved book collection. She marveled at the finished product, her eyes sparkling with gratitude. Simon, wiping sweat from his brow, smiled. 

She realized one thing about him that day, not only was he so sexy when he built things for her, but his love language was clearly acts of service. He enjoyed doing things to help her. Her heart swelled as for what he didn’t say through his words, he showed through his actions. 

"Thank you, Simon," she said, genuinely touched by his efforts. 

Simon hugged her, "anytime love, why don’t we get your books on here?”

As they arranged the books together, she couldn't help but appreciate not only the sturdy shelf that now adorned her new library but also the patient and caring man who stood before her. Helping her place the books in a color-coordinated system. 

After building the bookshelf together, she wanted to thank Simon by making him dinner. Unfortunately, her cooking skills didn't match her enthusiasm, and she ended up with a mess in the kitchen. Feeling upset, she couldn't hide her disappointment.

Simon, noticing her frustration, stepped in to help. He reassured her that everything was okay and suggested they work together to salvage the situation. She was relieved and slightly embarrassed, as she took a break while Simon took charge of the kitchen.

"Let's turn this around together," Simon said placing a hand on her shoulder, rolling up his sleeves. 

She sighed tears of frustration filling her eyes. "I wanted to surprise you but I think I messed it up."

Simon chuckled and placed a kiss on her head. "Hey don’t do that, baby you’re fine. We'll figure it out, just talk to me"

She explained her vision, and Simon began to assess the situation, skillfully turning the chaotic scene into a more organized cooking space.

As they worked side by side, She couldn't help but express her disappointment. "I really wanted this to be special."

Simon smiled. "It already is special, love. This is 5 star dining compared to the shit that's served on base"

She laughs at the memory of the meals she had on base and sniffles. "there's that smile"

Once the meal was ready, they sat down to eat. feeling a bit guilty, started to apologize again. However, Simon stopped her with a warm smile.

"Listen, love, there's no need for apologies. I enjoyed helping with the bookshelf, and now I'm happy to take care of dinner. You don't have to do everything perfectly. I'm here because I want to be, not because of what you can or can't do."

She looked at Simon, appreciating his understanding. "But you deserve to be taken care of too," she insisted.

Simon chuckled.  you've given me everything I could ever ask for just by being here. I appreciate your effort, but it's not about what you can or can't do. It's about us being together and enjoying each other's company."

She takes a bite of the perfectly grilled steak and looks at him in shock, holding her hand over her mouth. She'd never been a fan of red meats, however this was a masterpiece.

"how is it?" he asks

"this is the best steak I've ever had"

"It's a gift" he smirks

"how are you so good at everything?" she asks in shock

"remains to be seen"

"this is delicious"

"thank you love, name any dish and I'll make it for you"

As they shared a simple yet heartwarming meal, she realized that Simon cherished the simple moments they spent together more than any grand gesture. Their laughter echoed in the kitchen, turning what started as a kitchen mishap into a precious moment with the man she loved. 

Tag list:@vivi123abc

[pixydustworld]

The marriage law was announced at 2pm on a Tuesday.

By 2:15 Hermione had already drafted a motion to dismiss the law entirely. It was a good motion, too. If she’d sent a copy to Ron, he would’ve replied with: wow! lots of words! good stuff!

At 2:17 her motion was denied.

“It’s best to just accept defeat.” Malfoy said from his side of the office, bookshelves neat, papers all stacked in order. “You won’t win this one.”

“I’m not in the habit of giving up.” Hermione snapped. Her side of the office was cluttered, less pristine. Her bookshelf had a nasty habit of overflowing all over the floor, stacks of books balancing precariously on every surface. “A fire hazard.” Malfoy had sneered at her once, “Breaking several codes.”

“Hm.” Malfoy said, “I hadn’t noticed.” He was smiling softly, like he’d just told the funniest joke in the world. Waiting, almost patiently for her to smile. Stupid man with his stupid grin, Hermione wanted to throw a book at his head.

“This is archaic.” Hermione hissed. “The Ministry has gone too far. They can't force us to marry anyone.”

Even as she spoke, a squirming feeling of doubt was beginning to take root in her chest — being friends with Harry came with many things. Companionship and love, but it also came with a healthy distrust of the government (like a free gift basket! but terrible one).

Malfoy ignored her complaints. "Marriage Acts aren't as mid-evil as you're making them out to be." He said, with that annoying voice he used when he knew he was right about something, "They serve a purpose."

"A purpose?" Hermione could practically feel the beginnings of an aneurysm. A fitting death, slumped over her desk, surrounded by unfinished documents and discovered by Draco Malfoy, "Are you actually defending this?"

She would have to find a new partner. A new office, one where he wasn't constantly surrounding her, swimming on the edge of her peripheral vision. Maybe Dean Thomas would let her set up a current workplace in his records closet, he was always bragging about how it was big enough for him to take naps in during work —

"No." Malfoy said, somehow even more amused now, "I don't support it."

"Oh." Hermione said, very eloquently, "That's good."

"But," Malfoy continued, still distinctly unruffled while Hermione was very ruffled, "Most people will be unfazed. It's a Pure-Blood tradition. My parents have always planned to arrange a marriage contract.” Malfoy shrugged, “It’s not absolutely unheard of.”

“Well," Hermione said, out of breath from all the pacing she was doing, "Your parents are terrible.”

“Of course.” Malfoy said, like it was obvious. “They would never allow me the opportunity to sully the Malfoy name. Producing the correct heir is the only thing I’ll ever be good at.”

Hermione frowned. “Hearing about your family isn’t good for our working relationship. It makes me feel bad for you.”

“We can’t have that.” Malfoy said.

“No,” she agreed with a sigh, “we can’t have that.”

“So, tell me Granger. What is your plan?” His grin became less self indulgent, more fake. “You’ll have to marry someone. It'll undoubtably be the event of the season — have a fiancé you’ve been hiding from me?”

Hermione narrowed her eyes. “Do you think I could hide anything from you?”

Malfoy knew when she changed the scent of her shampoo, when she switched up her coffee order — he even knew if she was sleeping less than usual. It was impossibly annoying to be around someone so observant, someone so intent on cataloguing her every move.

"If I had a secret fiancé, which I don't, I'm confident that you're competent enough to have sniffed him out by now."

Malfoy responding grin was slow and syrupy. "You think I'm competent?"

“Piss off, Malfoy.”

“Is he shorter than me? Is that it? Didn’t want to introduce us because you knew he’d feel bad?”

“You’re taller than everyone.” Hermione said, annoyed, again, “You would obviously be taller than my imaginary fiancé. You’re like an angelic giraffe.”

“You think I’m angelic?”

“No.”

"Two compliments on top of each other, are you feeling alright, Granger?"

"Shut up."

At 2:20, Hermione began to clean her side of the office, desperate for an excuse not to talk to Malfoy.

At 2:22, Harry slammed through her door, completely demolishing the (very little) progress Hermione had made in cleaning up her side of the office.

“I’ll marry you.” Harry said, slightly out of breath, like he’d sprinted all the way to her office, “Do you think we can kiss without making a face? We’ll have to practice.”

“I’m not marrying you.” Hermione said from the floor behind her desk, “You are engaged to Theo.” She was laying on her back with a book covering her face, feeling rightfully sorry for herself.

“Theo won’t mind.” Harry said in the voice he reserved for whenever he wanted people to listen to him (i am harry potter! and i did not spill mustard on the couch! you have to believe me, i saved the world!) “It will be quick. I can get us rings before the day is over.”

"No." Hermione said, still on the floor, "I've gone along with enough of your stupid ideas. This is too much."

Because, despite it all, Harry would do this. Without hesitation, blind loyalty and unwavering determination — Harry would marry her and be pleased with his choices. He was lovely, but at times, Harry could be a misguided idiot.

"This is where you draw the line?" Malfoy hummed, "Interesting to catch a glimpse into the inner workings of your mind."

Finally scrambling to her feet (after a few more seconds of wallowing) Hermione was horrified to find a familiar look on Harry's face — one that promised something stupid.

"I'll figure it out. " Harry said, with a shrug that reminded Hermione of their childhood (occidentally, the stress headache she was feeling also reminded her of their childhood). He pointed a stoic finger at her. "Don't make a face when I kiss you."

Then, he left.

“Theo wouldn’t mind,” Malfoy said in a helpful voice, “He’d probably marry you as well. Would it be Granger-Potter-Nott? Or Granger-Nott-Potter? Better figure that out soon. Potter seems eager to find those rings.”

Hermione threw a book at his head.

Malfoy caught it with ease, his stupid Quidditch hands.

“I have an idea,” Malfoy said after a moment.

Hermione ignored him. “There has to be a way out of this.” She was pacing again, sensible shoes kicked off to the corner (where she’d undoubtedly forget them) “I could write another motion? A longer one this time. With more quotes.”

“Marry me instead.”

Hermione stopped pacing. “Excuse me?”

“I’m your best option.”

“I have many options —

“Weasley already tricked someone into marrying him and Potter is engaged to my only friend.” He frowned, in a mocking sort of way. “Did I leave anyone out?”

“No.” Hermione said flatly. “You didn’t.”

“Alright then. Marry me.”

“Hah.” She said, “Hah. I take back everything I’ve ever said about you. Malfoy, you are funny.”

“I’m being serious.” He said, looking annoyed. Fantastic, they were both annoyed. Like they always were.

“We can get married before the law passes and then you can do what you do best.” Malfoy continued, like that was a totally normal thing to say.

“Which is?” Without her shoes, the height difference was unbearably noticeable. She had to tilt her head back to meet his eyes. At some point he'd stopped being a willowy wraith of a person and began the unfortunate process of filling out.

He didn’t look away. “Destroy everyone’s expectations and free the downtrodden.”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “What would you get out of this arrangement?”

Malfoy shrugged, too practiced to be nonchalant. “I’d be married to a war hero. It would do wonders for my reputation.”

“And you would be married to me.” Hermione said, beginning to feel like this was getting too real, “We both know that would never happen.”

“Never?”

“Never.” She agreed.

He wasn’t smiling that lazy smile from before, this one was different. Sharper. “I don’t think that’s true.”

“Besides,” Hermione continued on loudly, “you’re no gentleman. No need to pretend. I don’t need saving, I’ll figure this out myself.”

“You don’t need to.” Malfoy said, “I will help. I want to fuck over the Ministry for many reasons, but mainly because they declined your motion.”

He was on her side of the office now, leaning casually against her desk, inches away from where she stood. He was too pretty up close, like staring at the sun.

“It was very good.” Hermione breathed.

Malfoy nodded, almost too good at pretending to be sincere.

“I’m sure it was good. You touched it. Everything you touch is golden.”

“You truly want to help me?”

“I’ve only offered several times.”

Hermione narrowed her eyes. “All to fuck over the Ministry? No other reason?”

“Maybe I want you all to myself.”

Hermione's eye twitched.

"Don't tease me." She managed to hiss. "Not about this."

She saw when he realized, a flicker of excitement in his eyes — when he noticed her apparent misery at how completely and helplessly she was drawn to him.

"I'd never dream of it." Malfoy said warmly, "You could kill me with ease, only an idiot would be careless around you."

She thought of all the long nights they spent together, crammed in their tiny little office. How she looked forward to her day, if only to see his stupidly pointy face. How she tried to date, but couldn’t. Because it wasn’t right — her dates were too kind, too short.

Not him.

How, through everything, he was the first person she thought of in the morning, the person she thought of in the darkness of the night, when no one could see her wandering hands — the person she looked at for a challenge, for relief and support.

Despite her best attempts, Hermione Granger had fallen in love with Draco Malfoy and now, here he was, seeming to share in her suffering.

“We’d have to consummate the marriage.” She said, giving him one last out. “You’d have to see me naked.”

“I’m sure I’ll survive.”

“I’m very bossy,” she said, “and I work all the time.”

“Good thing we share an office.”

“I’m not easy to love.”

Malfoy scoffed. “It’s been easy enough for me.”

He was close enough to touch, so uncharacteristically open. Looking down at her with fondness she didn’t know he possessed.

“I’m selfish.” Malfoy warned, “Do not forget that. I will help you destroy this law and anything else you want. Burn it all down if you want to. But I won’t be letting you go. Not now, after I've gotten you."

“I suppose that’s fine.” Hermione said softly, watching as his hand moved to touch her face, warm against her skin. "It'll be bearable to be around you, I suppose."

As he held her face in his hands, Hermione watched as his grin transform into something different, something new — a smile she'd only seen glimpses of, one only for her. "I'll work very hard to make our marriage a tolerable one." He said.

"Good," Hermione breathed, stretching up to kiss him, to finally press her lips against his, "I can't wait."

Hermione was married at 3pm on a Tuesday.

It was a small ceremony.

Harry, although he'd never publicly admit it, was relieved.

Despite his best attempts, he would've made a face when Hermione had kissed him.

[acourtofmishapandmistakes]

Reluctant Arms and Baby Charms

Summary: In response to a comment by @b7717 on one of my posts, I was inspired to write a scene depicting the complicated yet evolving relationship between Amren and baby Nyx. Here, Nyx makes a daring attempt to finally win over his Auntie Amren.

Content Warning: None, just baby fluff

Amren perched regally in an oversized armchair tucked into the shadowy corner of the sitting room. The room was awash in the soft glow of evening; golden light spilled across rich mahogany bookshelves and glinted off delicate glassware, casting long, dancing shadows. This was the families normal routine for their Thursday night dinners.

Across from her, Nesta found refuge against Cassian’s broad side, her body curled into his protective embrace on the plush, sage-green couch. Cassian, his voice a low rumble of amusement, was deep in conversation with Azriel, who lounged in an adjacent wingback chair. With a casual grace, Azriel swirled a glass of amber whiskey, his dark eyes lighting up with laughter at some jest from Cassian.

To the side, on a sprawling, plush rug that dominated the floor, Elain and Feyre created a softer tableau. They sat encircled by a flurry of colorful cushions, their attention devoted entirely to the animated babblings of ten-month-old Nyx. Feyre’s laughter, bright and musical, punctuated the air as Nyx attempted his earnest, albeit wobbly, first steps.

Nearby, Rhysand stood by a towering bookshelf lined with well-worn leather spines. In his hand, he swirled a glass of dark liquid, his posture relaxed against the cool, stucco wall. His gaze, however, was only on his wife and son. 

Amren idly swirled her glass of wine, her movements detached and mechanical. Meanwhile, Feyre gently coaxed Nyx onto his unsteady legs, supporting him under his tiny armpits. "Come on, baby boy," she whispered, her voice a tender murmur. Her face lit up with a radiant smile as Nyx cooed, reaching out to tenderly touch his mother's face.

The dinner conversation earlier had bubbled with excitement over Nyx’s recent milestone—pulling himself up to stand while in Rhys's office. Amren, however, found herself drifting away from the animated chatter about the boy's achievements. While she recognized the deep affection that enfolded the family, Amren's own sensibilities were far removed from such domestic warmth. She was not one to revel in the sticky, noisy presence of infants. To her, children were a disturbance, often leaving a trail of havoc on a woman’s physique and serenity. Observing Feyre, now slightly rounder and visibly more worn from motherhood, only cemented Amren’s resolve to remain detached. She preferred her life orderly and unencumbered—precisely the opposite of what she viewed as the chaos of child-rearing.

Feyre gently turned Nyx so he faced his Aunt Elain, who was eagerly extending her arms toward him, a stuffed linen bat—his favorite toy—clutched in her hands. "You can do it, Nyx, come on sweet boy!" Elain cooed encouragingly.

Nyx responded with a series of cheerful, unintelligible babbles. "Oh yeah?" Feyre chuckled, engaging playfully with her son. "That's very interesting." Rhys, overhearing the exchange, let out a soft chuckle. When Nyx emitted another joyful burst of sounds, Cassian jumped in with a teasing grin, "Whoa, let’s not use that kind of language, dude!"

Amren watched the scene unfold with a mixture of bemusement and detachment. She could never quite grasp why the adults indulged in such earnest conversations with Nyx as if he could grasp their words. To her, Nyx was akin to a household pet—endearing perhaps, but fundamentally incapable of meaningful interaction. The distinction, however, was clear: Amren found the company of cats or dogs decidedly more preferable.

Elain jiggled the doll enticingly, and Nyx stretched his chubby little hands toward it as Feyre gradually released her gentle hold. "Come on, Nyx, come to Auntie Elain," Elain coaxed softly. Nyx hesitated, glancing over his shoulder back at Feyre.

"No, no, not mama, go to Elain," Feyre encouraged, guiding his attention forward.

Nesta rose from her place beside Cassian and joined Elain, both aunts reaching out invitingly. 

"Look, baby, it’s your Auntie Nesta!" Feyre announced, her voice bright with excitement. "Go to your aunties!" She urged him on.

At the sight of his aunts' animated expressions, Nyx's face broke into a wide, gummy smile. The room filled with the soft chorus of coos and delighted squeals. Nyx wobbled on his unsteady legs, swaying slightly as Elain and Nesta leaned in, their faces alight with anticipation.

With a sudden giggle, Nyx's balance gave way, and he toppled back into his mother’s waiting arms. Feyre enveloped him in a warm embrace and planted a playful raspberry on his cheeks, eliciting an even louder giggle from him.

"You silly boy, that’s your mama, not your aunties," Feyre chuckled, her voice bubbling with affection as she held him close.

Amren managed a tentative smile as Azriel met her eyes. Both shared a similar detachment from the exuberant affections showered upon the new babe. While it was evident they cared about him, neither harbored much interest in the typical rituals of feeding, holding, or babe-watching.

Nesta rose from the floor. “Cass, we should get going. We have an early morning tomorrow.”

Cassian got up from the couch and moved to stand behind Nesta, wrapping his arms around her shoulders in a protective embrace and pressing a gentle kiss into her hair.

Elain also stood, stretching slightly. “I should head out too. I’m helping at the farmer's market on Saturday, and they want to meet with me tomorrow about a booth assignment.”

“That’s wonderful,” Feyre replied, her voice warm even as Nyx tugged at a strand of her hair, his small fingers gripping tightly. She winced slightly before freeing herself from his enthusiastic grasp.

Elain bent down to give Nyx a playful tickle on his stomach. “Bye baby boy,” she said, grabbing his bare foot and pressing a kiss onto it.

Nyx, feeling the confines of his mother's arms too restricting, began to fuss and squawk, eager to crawl towards his abandoned toy. Feyre set him down, and he quickly scooted across the floor, grasping the bat and immediately sucking on its wing.

From her vantage point, Amren watched, her expression turning to one of slight disgust at the copious amounts of drool Nyx managed to produce. 

As Feyre and her sisters exited the sitting room, trailed by Rhys and Cassian in deep conversation, the atmosphere shifted. Suddenly, it was just Nyx, Azriel, and Amren left—an unlikely trio, each not entirely at ease with the others. Amren contemplated leaving, yet she hesitated, recalling Feyre's promise of a new jigsaw puzzle featuring a painting of herself and Varian that she was eager to acquire.

Nyx, oblivious to the subtle tension, babbled joyfully, waving his stuffed bat energetically above his head. In an overzealous flutter, he released it, sending it sailing across the room to land at Amren's feet. She looked down at the soggy, forlorn toy with a hint of dismay. Nyx, realizing his toy had escaped his grasp, let out a groan of displeasure and began searching for it. Spotting the toy near Amren, his gaze shifted upward, locking eyes with her.

With a faint sigh, Amren nudged the toy back toward Nyx using her foot. Her movement was reluctant but gentle, a small concession to the innocent expectations of a child, even as she maintained her composed detachment.

Nyx flipped onto his stomach and, with a burst of determination, scooted over to the nearest coffee table. Sitting up, he grabbed the edge and pulled himself to his feet. Both Azriel and Amren exchanged nervous glances, unsure of their roles in this sudden display of infantile agility.

As Nyx clung to the table, he glanced back at Amren and flashed her a toothless grin before taking a tentative step forward. Amren's eyes widened in surprise as he cautiously moved along the edge of the table, his small fingers clinging for balance. Suddenly, with a daring little laugh, Nyx released the table and tottered forward unaided, making four shaky steps toward Amren.

Without hesitation, Amren set her wine glass aside and knelt down, extending the soggy bat toy toward him. Nyx's wobbly approach continued until he was close enough to dismiss the toy, instead opting to bury his chubby hands into Amren's cheeks and gaze deeply into her eyes. Overcome by an unfamiliar rush of affection, Amren pulled him close, their foreheads touching.

Azriel, witnessing the scene with astonishment, called out loudly for Feyre and Rhys. The parents rushed back into the room, their questions halting as they caught sight of Amren embracing their son, who stood confidently on his own. Feyre wasn’t sure if she was more taken aback by her son walking, or by Amren willingly touching him.

"He, he walked to her," Azriel managed to announce, his voice tinged with disbelief.

Feyre whipped her head around. "He did what?"

"He—Nyx walked. All on his own, to Amren," Azriel repeated, his arms gesturing wildly toward the pair still on the floor. Nyx, content within Amren's embrace, finally accepted the bat and nestled into her lap.

With a careful adjustment, Amren scooped Nyx up, securing him comfortably in her lap as she reclaimed her seat in the oversized chair. Once settled, she casually picked up her wine glass, swirling the contents before taking a final sip.

The roomful of astonished adults watched, still processing the unexpected turn of events. Amren, feeling their eyes on her, looked up coolly. "What?" She queried nonchalantly. "He's chosen his favorite," she remarked, a hint of a smile playing at her lips as she carefully set the glass down.

Rhys chuckled, "Cassian is going to lose his shit when he finds out about this."

Nyx, ever the adventurous little one, leaned forward a bit too eagerly and nearly tumbled out of Amren's lap. With swift reflexes, Amren caught him by the back of his shirt and pulled him safely back against her. She then wrapped one arm securely around his midsection, holding him close to ensure he wouldn’t take another unexpected dive. This gesture, protective and almost instinctual, surprised even Amren herself.

[michi-hawkeye]

*chin hands* Tell me about the stickynote

Ooh you’re gonna love this it’s a alternate first meeting and it takes place 2 years pre canon, where Tommy and Buck meet at a book signing of their favorite author. Also the sticky note mentioned in the title is plot relevant I just don’t wanna spoil why

Here’s a snippet (unfortunately I haven’t written Buck and Tommy actually talking to eachother yet 😂) (cause you know why I have too many plot bunnies)

Tommy had been reading Chasing Starlight by Savino C. Zambrano in the bunkroom for a good chunk of his shift after getting his usual tasks done, to make up for the fact he couldn’t go to the signing event for the latest installment that was being held today. Sure he could have asked for the day off weeks ago but he’s pretty sure Captain Gerrad would have laughed in his face and deny the time off if he had, he’s pretty sure the only books his captain had read were the textbooks at his time in academy if the old man’s ability to be obtuse and a asshole were anything to go by.

The novel was the first book in the series and if he had his way he would have had the 4th book today, but for now he’ll be content to reread the book that got him into Sci-Fi in the first place, with the cracked spine and age worn, tea and coffee stained pages that are threatening to fall out. He had finally gotten to his favorite scene where the sweet but jaded bounty hunter turned hermit finally admits to the optimistic hero of the series that he sees him as a friend, when the alarm bell started to blare throughout the firehouse. He tries not to groan but he can’t help it he hates getting interrupted even though its work. He goes to hide his copy underneath the mattress of the bottom bunk that he had unintentionally claimed as his during A shift, so long ago.

Its not like he’s ashamed of his favorite series or his love for reading but he would rather not have to deal with the less than kind ribbing the team tends to do being aimed at him if they find out that he likes reading what could be seen as softer but dramatic character driven books, but its also not like he’s any better than them if him not stepping in to help Hen or Chim when they had been the targets was a sign, he’s gotten used to laying low at best and humoring the team at worst. There’s a reason Eli would rather keep to himself or take Chim under his wing when he had worked at the firehouse.

——-

He tries not to look too interested when he hears Captain Gerrad rattle out the address for Lavender Sprig Bookstore where the signing event was taking place, he would think the universe was trying to mock him or something if it hadn’t been for the fact that Gerrad had stated that the emergency was that a bookshelf had collapsed on top of a group of civilians, hopefully it wasn’t as bad as it sounded.

When they arrive they’re greeted by a bookseller who’s hiding her worry surprisingly well for someone’s shop dealing with a pretty sizable event telling by the line at the signing table they passed that he tried not to eye to long, regular flow of customers, on top of possible several medical emergencies. “A Good Samaritan seemed to have the bookshelf handled, he’s been holding it up and when others tired to move the injured from under the shelf he told them not to and to wait until the proper medical professionals have it handled” the bookseller, Mara said as they weaved through bookshelves and people which explained why she was more calm than frantic which isn’t a reaction that’s seen very often on the job.

“Sounds like a dumb kid trying to play firefighter who’s just going to be more of a hindrance” Captain Gerrad grumbled out as they finally got to the collapsed shelves.

“More like he’s just trying to help and he clearly has look around you” he hears hen snip back as she and Chim brush past the crew. Tommy does give a quick courtesy glance at that and notices that despite how close this area of the bookstore is to the signing, the front of the store and registers it’s clearly deserted instead of being filled with the typical nosy bystanders.

He hears captain Gerrad angrily retort “Kinard, De Luca secure the shelves and make sure that kid is out of the way” he gives Gerard a nod in response as he says to Sal “you take the left side I’ll take the right” Sal gives him a thumbs up as he hands Sal the other cord to secure the shelf. As they follow Hen and chim, Tommy taps on the stranger’s shoulder to get his attention since he was clearly crouched in a way that was easier to bare the weight of the bookcase as one person instead of what should be two at minimum which was made harder since the stranger was also being careful to not be in the way of the injured civilians

[trohpi]

regulily microfic [cross-posted on ao3]

@marauders-rarepair-fics • june 3: slytherin • 769 words

“Are you alright?” a curious voice breaks the careful silence in the secluded corner of the library.

Regulus flinches and ducks his head, quickly wiping at his tear-stained cheeks. “I’m fine.”

“You really don’t look it.” The intruder— because that’s what they are, Regulus thinks bitterly— has an accent. Irish, or maybe Scottish, he can’t quite tell.

“Well, I am,” he replies tightly. “So go away.”

“Mm, I don’t think I will,” the stranger says promptly before plopping down on the floor next to him. Regulus’ brow furrows in indignation and he whips his head up with a fierce glare, finally getting a good look at whoever had the gall to encroach on his space.

The first thing he notices is how pretty she is.

The girl is his age, or maybe a little older, and she’s wearing a Gryffindor tie. The colours draw out the deep reds of her auburn hair, which is pulled into a simple braid that falls over her shoulder. Her head is tilted as she looks at him searchingly, though when they make eye contact she smiles, her jade eyes bright and keen.

“Hello,” she says, sticking her hand out to shake. “I’m Lily Evans, second year. I don’t recognise you, so you must be a first year, right?”

Regulus ignores her hand. “I said go away.”

“I know.” She drops her hand back into her lap. “What’s your name?”

“I don’t see how that’s any of your business,” he sniffs haughtily, though the effect is rather ruined by his teary eyes and splotchy cheeks.

“It became my business when I stumbled upon you crying in my spot in the library.”

It is moments like this that Regulus curses his pale skin, which turns a mortifying shade of red at her words. “Oh, your spot? Pardon me, I didn’t realise Madam Pince gave you ownership of these particular bookshelves.”

Lily levels him a stern look. “This corner is pretty much abandoned. My best mate and I are the only people ever back here regularly, so yeah, it’s my spot.”

“Typical Gryffindors, thinking the whole world revolves around the two of you,” Regulus says, fiddling with his sleeve in embarrassment.

“My best mate is a Slytherin,” she corrects, and Regulus’ whole world stops.

A Slytherin? Best friends with a Gryffindor…?

“What?” he asks dumbly, and Lily huffs impatiently.

“He’s not in Gryffindor, he’s in Slytherin.”

“And you’re still friends with him?”

Lily blinks at him for a second before some wave of understanding passes through her face and she softens.

“Of course I am. His House doesn’t change who he is.”

Regulus swallows thickly, looking away. “My brother said he hates me because I’m in Slytherin, and he’s in Gryffindor.”

“Well, your brother’s an idiot,” Lily says bluntly. “Anyone that hates people because of their House is a fool.”

Something in Regulus’ chest warms and he lets out a wet-sounding laugh, wiping at his eyes. “Well, Sirius has always been a bit thick.”

“Sirius?” Lily blinks, sitting upright in shock. “Your brother is Sirius Black?”

“Er, yeah. I’m Re—”

“Regulus, I know. Black wouldn’t shut up about his baby brother finally starting school the entire ride here.”

“Oh, lovely,” Regulus sighs, face warming for an entirely different reason now. He closes his eyes and leans his head back against the bookshelf behind him. “He’s both humiliated and disowned me within my first few days of school.”

There’s a moment of contemplative silence before Lily declares, “I’ve got to smack some sense into your brother.”

Regulus’ eyes fly open in horror.

“Wha— No!” he exclaims, scrambling off the floor to follow a fiercely determined Lily, who is already standing as she smooths out the wrinkles of her skirt.

“Someone has to. He cares about you, he’s just too pigheaded to see that,” she turns to Regulus, her green gaze fiery and brilliant and piercing in a way that makes him want to squirm. “Besides, that’s what friends are for, right?”

Regulus’ gut swoops. Is that what they are? Friends? He’s never had any friends— not if you don’t count Kreacher— but he’s also never felt like this about anyone, so he assumes they must be.

He nods once, just for a second, a quick show of acceptance for the hand she’s clearly extending. Lily beams at him and her smile is intense and warm, just like the rest of her.

“Brilliant. Be back in a jiff, then.”

Regulus blinks, his mind piecing together the meaning behind her words just in time for her to leave their secluded space. Then, he’s chasing after her.

“Wait, Lily, don’t…!”