#I was in like third grade why did they hate me so much

[covenofagatha]

Birthday Girl

On your 21st birthday, your friends drag you to a bar to get wasted when you decide it's a good idea to drunk-call Professor Agatha Harkness.

Word count: 3400+

Warnings: smut, fingering, oral, intoxication, mentions of underage drinking, teacher x student (legal)

“One, two, three!” Wanda chants and you and your friends tap your shot glasses on the bar counter and quickly down them. 

You gasp at the burn and they laugh at you. It’s your 21st birthday and your best friends Wanda, Rio, and Natasha had dragged you out to the closest bar to get you wasted. They had all already turned 21 the year before; you were the baby in the group. 

“Fuck, that’s disgusting,” you groan. 

“Another round, please!” Rio motions to the bartender. He sets down four more tequila shots and one is shoved into your hand. 

“Think you can get to 21?” Wanda jokes and the thought of 20 more shots makes you want to gag. 

“I might puke after this one,” you say and your friends laugh. You were never a partier in high school or college, always preferring to curl up on the couch and watch a movie. You’d only had some sips of alcohol a few times, but you had never been drunk. 

“You deserve this!” Nat shouts in your ear. “Harkness has been working you to the bone!” 

You shrug and wave your hand dismissively, suddenly uncomfortable. Agatha Harkness is your History of Witchcraft professor at Westview University. She’s known around campus for being cold to everyone and rarely giving out A’s. She expected nothing short of excellence and would not put up with excuses. Everyone was terrified of her. 

Everyone except for you. 

Something about the older woman captivated you. You were obsessed with meeting her standards, dreaming of the day she would look at you with pride. You poured over your books for her class, rereading every sentence you wrote thrice, just to try to impress her. It had taken your friends days of begging to convince you to come celebrate your birthday with them because you had a paper for Agatha’s class due in a week and you were already worried about it. 

“I don’t know how you’re surviving,” Wanda says. “I had her last semester and got a C in the class. Third highest grade. She’s the worst.” 

“She’s not that bad,” you defend, not quite sure why. Something about Agatha getting so much hate for pushing her students rubs you the wrong way. 

“Yeah she is,” Rio joins in. “I heard that she’s a real witch.”

You roll your eyes. “Can we please stop talking about her? I thought you guys brought me here to get away from school.” You take the shot that’s still in your hand and it goes down smoother this time. 

“Yes, there we go!” Rio whoops. 

Two more shots later and your head has gone completely fuzzy. You feel as if you are floating on air and everything around you is happening in slow motion. You get off your stool and immediately stumble, Wanda catching you with her arms. 

“I think I’m a little drunk,” you tell her. She laughs like it’s the funniest thing you’ve ever heard. 

“No shit, y/n, you don’t have to yell!” 

You didn’t even realize you had. “We should probably go back to the dorms!” You look around to see Nat chatting with some girl and Rio throwing darts at the board in the corner. 

“Not yet,” Wanda says, picking up her rum and coke. You’re not sure how she’s still drinking after she also did four tequila shots. “I’ll get you some water.” She signals to the bartender and you squeeze your eyes shut, willing your vision to go back to normal. 

When you open them, you see dark hair in the corner. Is that–? You shift so you can get a better look and feel sorely disappointed when you realize the person is not Agatha. Why are you disappointed? The thought echoes in your head for a second, and then is replaced by a sudden urge to see your professor. 

“Drink this,” Wanda orders, pressing a glass of ice water into your hand, but you’re too busy scrolling through your phone. You know she put her number on the syllabus somewhere and you are too far gone to think that this might be a bad idea. 

You feel a thrill run through you when you find it. You read the number over and over, like you’re afraid it’s going to change somehow. 

“I’ll be back,” you slur to Wanda and then step out the side door into the alley. You type the number into your phone and your finger hesitates over the call button. You know you shouldn’t. But fuck it. You press the button and lift the phone to your ear. 

It rings. And then rings again. You’re about to hang up to spare yourself the rejection when the call connects. 

“Hello?” It’s actually her. 

Your breath catches in your throat and you stand up straighter. “Professor Harkness?” 

“Y/n? Is that you?” 

“Yeah.” Shit, this was a bad idea. Even with your head still swimming, you know that. You can’t just hang up though. 

“Why are you calling me at 10:30 on a Saturday night?” 

“Um,” you say, trying to think of something. You’re definitely going to have to drop her class after this. You’ll never be able to face her ever again. “It’s my birthday?” You offer lamely. 

Agatha scoffs. “Happy birthday. Can I help you with something?”

“Oh, no, Professor, I just wanted – we’re at a bar – I thought you were – and just wanted to say hi,” you ramble, knowing you’re not making any sense, and you can almost hear her smirk through the phone. 

“Y/n, are you drunk right now?” Her voice perks up and it sounds like she’s finally interested. 

“No!” you protest. “Well, maybe a little. But I’m 21 now!” 

“What bar are you at?” 

“Jimmy’s.” It’s a local dive bar that is a popular place for Westview students to hang out at. 

“I’ll be there in ten. Wait out front.” There’s a click and then she’s gone. You stare at your phone, dumbfounded. Is Agatha coming to pick you up? Why?

You walk back into the bar and order a Dirty Shirley. The call had sobered you up a bit and if you had already drunk-called your professor, why not get even more hammered. Wanda comes back over to you and giggles when she sees the new drink in your hand. 

“Alright, time to party!” she exclaims. You pick up on the fact that she’s a little drunk as well. You stand up, vision blurring for a second. 

“I actually called an uber,” you lie, even through your hazy mind knowing that your professor coming to pick you up might sound strange to them.

Wanda pouts and then throws her arms around you. “Happy birthday,” she says into your ear and your arms tighten around her. 

“Thank you,” you breathe back. You’re close with Rio and Nat as well, but they don’t have the same bond you and Wanda do. You pull back and then go say goodbye to your other friends. 

The wind outside does very little to sober you up and you shiver from the coldness. You’re wearing a purple crop-top and a black mini-skirt, something Nat had found buried deep in your closet. You watch the time on your phone, heartbeat picking up as it gets closer to ten minutes since Agatha had hung up on you. 

And then right on the dot, a slick black Range Rover pulls into the parking lot, and you immediately know it’s her. The car stops right in front of you, the passenger window rolling down, and your breath catches. 

It’s Professor Harkness, clad in a maroon suit, wavy hair falling over her shoulders. 

“Do you need me to open the door for you, too, princess?” Agatha says, sarcasm dripping over the words, when you haven’t moved. You shake your head, partly to answer and partly to clear the fog. You settle into the seat, not missing the way Agatha’s eyes rake over your skimpily clothed body.

“You didn’t have to come get me,” you mutter, putting real effort into not slurring your words. 

She glances at you and sees you struggling with your seatbelt. She reaches over and you freeze at her close proximity. Her breath is hot against your cheek and her fingers brush your stomach as she takes the seat belt from your hand and buckles it for you. “Thought I would spare the other people you drunk-called,” she says. 

Embarrassment runs through you. “You were the only one,” you say meekly, picking at a scab on your hand. You dare to peek at her, only to find her smirking, one eyebrow quirked. 

“Oh?”

“I shouldn’t have called.” This time, it’s harder to keep your words from running together. “We were talking about you and then I thought I saw you and I just wanted to see you.” You need to stop talking, now. 

Agatha hums. “Did you, now?” She tucks a piece of hair behind her ears as she shifts the car into drive and you watch her fingers. 

“You’re really hot,” you blurt out and then clamp a hand over your mouth. Fuck. 

Instead of pulling over and making you get out, like you thought she would, Agatha simply reaches over and pats your leg. “And you’re really drunk, sweetheart.” 

The pet name makes you swoon inwardly. “Not that drunk,” you say unconvincingly. “I only had one…two…” You trail off, attempting to count the number of drinks on your fingers. Agatha stifles a chuckle. 

“Is this your first time drinking?” She asks, amused. 

“No, but it is my first time drinking this much,” you admit. “My friends dragged me out since it’s my birthday. I was going to work on the essay for your class.” 

“You were going to spend your 21st birthday doing school work?” 

“Your essay’s due in a week. I wanted to make sure I-it was good enough for you.” 

She notices your slip of tongue and her smirk sends heat down low in your stomach. “You’re always good for me. Your essays are some of the best I’ve ever read.” 

Your heart skips a beat and your face flushes. “I have a B in your class.” 

“You have an 88 in my class. That’s the highest I’ve had in years. Can’t make it too easy,” she says with a wink. 

“You could make it just a little easier,” you grumble, the alcohol clearly getting rid of any inhibitions. 

“You keep doing what you’re doing, sweetheart, and it’ll go up, I promise. I’m very impressed with the work you’ve been turning in.”

A hot flash runs through you. “Just wanna be your good girl.” And if it wasn’t clear how you feel about her now, it sure is. But she doesn’t look disgusted or creeped out, only intrigued. 

She finally stops the car and you peer out the window, expecting to see your dorm. You haven’t been paying attention to where she’s been driving at all, and you’re quite surprised to see you’ve arrived at a two-story house in a cute, suburban neighborhood. 

“This isn’t where I live,” you say dumbly. 

“No, it’s not,” she agrees, getting out of the car and walking over to help you. You stumble up the steps to the front door, Agatha’s tight grip on your shoulder keeping you upright. You can feel her fingers playing with the ends of your hair. 

She unlocks the front door just as a wave of nausea hits you. “Oh, god,” you say weakly, holding a hand in front of your mouth. Agatha doesn’t even seem phased; she leads you to a bathroom in the hall and leaves, only to re-enter with a glass of water moments later. You gulp it down and feel better. 

“You okay?” she asks softly, stroking your cheek, eyes tracing up and down your face. You’ve never seen this side of her and you really like it. 

“I think so. Thank you again,” you murmur and you realize that you’ve been staring at her mouth. 

“Anything for my favorite student.” 

And then, because you’re apparently determined to fuck everything up even more, you lean in and press your lips to hers. Agatha stands still for a second before you pull back, horrified with yourself. 

“Professor, I am so sorry, I didn’t mean to–” 

She draws you back in for a longer kiss this time, tongue licking into your mouth. You let out a long moan and she breaks away. 

“You’re drunk,” she tells you again.

You clasp the lapels of her blazer. “I know. But I want you.” 

She softly pries your fingers off her suit and smiles. “You need to sleep. And then we can talk about this in the morning.” 

You pout and she runs her thumb over your bottom lip, slightly pulling it down. You suck her finger into your mouth, delighting in the way her eyes darken. She steps back.

“Let’s go. You can sleep in the guest room. I’ll find you some pajamas and toiletries.” Her hand on the small of your back guides you up the stairs and to the room on the right. The guest room is simple but cozy and you immediately go to the bed and flop onto it. “Don’t fall asleep yet,” Agatha warns and then leaves the room. 

She comes back in a few minutes, an old shirt and sweatpants in one hand and a toothbrush and toothpaste in the other. She pats your legs in an effort to get you up but you can barely move, suddenly weighed down by all the drinks. 

“Come on, hon,” Agatha says and helps you stand up. You don’t move as she works to take your shirt and skirt off, your cheeks and upper chest flushing red. You try to cover yourself and she smirks. 

“M’sorry,” you mumble. 

“Don’t be. I’m enjoying the view.” You stare at her longingly, silently begging her to fuck you right there and then, but she helps you step into the sweatpants and pull the shirt over your head. She watches you brush your teeth and moves the covers so you can get into bed. “Do you need anything else?” 

Your hand grabs hers. “Just you,” you try again hopefully, but she chuckles and wrenches free of your grip. 

“Good night, birthday girl,” she whispers and leans down to press a kiss to your forehead. And then she turns off the lights and leaves the room.

You fall asleep immediately. 

***

Sunlight streams through the blinds, waking you up. It takes you a minute to get your bearings and then the events of last night come back to you. 

The bar. Four shots of tequila and half a Dirty Shirley. Calling Agatha and her coming to pick you up and taking you to her house. Kissing her in the downstairs bathroom. Shit. 

You groan, head pounding. You see a container of Advil and a glass of water on the nightstand beside you. You take two Advil and drain the glass, heart warming at the thought of Agatha taking such good care of you. 

And then you remember that your relationship with her will forever be complicated by your actions. 

You solemnly brush your teeth and pull back on the clothes you wore to the bar last night, neatly folding Agatha’s pajamas and placing them on the bed. You hope she hasn’t woken up yet so you can sneak out without her having to tell you how inappropriate you behaved last night. 

No such luck. The second you get downstairs, Agatha perks up from where she’s typing on her laptop on the couch.

“Good morning, darling,” she purrs, shutting her computer. You gulp, taking her outfit in. She’s wearing a robe that ends mid-thigh and the neckline drops low. 

“Hey,” you say casually, trying to hide how much you’re internally freaking out. 

“Do you want something for breakfast? I can cook you something.” She stands up and walks to the kitchen and you follow like a lost puppy. You involuntarily lick your lips at the way her hips are swaying. 

“What are my options?” Your voice is raspy, still feeling hungover. She glances back at you and her eyes dart up and down your body. 

“I can make eggs. Bacon. I think I have pancake mix in the pantry. What would you like?” 

You’re a little confused that she hasn’t scolded you yet. And then you remember something else. She kissed you. 

You swallow hard. Whatever else you may have done last night that you can’t remember, she doesn’t hate you for it. She might even want you back. 

“Are you on the menu?” It comes out before you can even realize what you’re saying. 

Agatha freezes and turns around. You shift your weight nervously, but then you see her pupils blown out. Her eyes are so dark you can barely see any blue. “What?” She asks carefully.

“You kissed me last night,” you say, a little breathless. You have absolutely no idea where this confidence is coming from. “You wouldn’t do anything else cause I was drunk. But I’m not drunk now.” 

She steps toward you and roughly grasps your hair. She tilts your head back, exposing your neck just a tad. “No, you’re not.” She regards you for a second. “You know you’re not going to get extra credit for trying to sleep with your professor.” 

You laugh. “That’s not why I’m doing this.” 

She smirks. “Good.” And then she licks a hot stripe up your neck and bites down, sucking a mark on your skin. You gasp loudly and tangle your hands into her hair. 

“Professor,” you moan and you drag her into a filthy kiss. She backs you up until your thighs hit the table so she lifts you up onto it. Your legs wrap around her to pull her closer. Agatha pushes up your crop-top and kneads your breast, thumb stroking your nipple, never once breaking your kiss.

Her hand creeps under your skirt and cups your mound over your underwear. Your hips jump on their own at the stimulation. 

“Please,” you beg. Her lips curl into a smile. 

“What do you want?” Her fingers have pushed your underwear to the side and have started lazily stroking through your folds, spreading your wetness. 

“You,” is all you can say before she sinks a finger into your hole. 

“Like this?” She asks innocently, thrusting hard. 

“Yes,” you pant, quickly untying her robe so you can touch her. She’s completely naked underneath and you lean down so you can take a nipple into your mouth. 

“That’s perfect, baby,” she sighs, setting a relentless pace with her fingers after she slips another one in you. “Is this what you hoped would happen when you called me last night?”

“I’ve been hoping for this since the first day of the semester,” you answer, and she falters for a second, thrown off by your honesty. 

She pulls out of you and panic runs through you, terrified that you said the wrong thing. But she just pushes you down so your back is resting on the table and she pulls out one of the chairs from the table. 

“What are you–” Before you can finish your sentence, she leans forward and sucks your clit into her mouth. Your back arches off the table, hands rushing down to hold her in place. “Fuck, Professor!” 

She devours your pussy like she’s a starving woman, pulling all sorts of loud noises from you. 

“Oh my god, I’m gonna cum,” you chant, hips grinding on her face, trying to get the last bit of stimulation you need to send you over the edge. She knows what you need and presses her fingers inside you, curling them just right and gives your clit a hard last lick. You cum harder than you ever have before, her name on your lips like a prayer. She helps you ride through the aftershocks and then trails kisses up your body until she can kiss your mouth. 

“How was that?” she asks after you pull away to catch your breath. 

“That was probably the best birthday present I’ve ever gotten,” you say, which cracks both of you up. “But I’m not finished.” 

Her eyebrow quirks up and she smirks. “Oh?” You stand up, putting your hands on her hips and flipping her around so she’s leaning against the table. 

You sink to your knees in front of you, not even bothering with a chair. You slowly push her robe up so it bunches at her waist. “Can I return the favor?” 

A glint appears in her eye and she fists one of her hands in your hair preemptively. “I’d like nothing more.” 

[cherry-jamm]

mark being a big cuddle bug ugh and you cant help but give in because its honestly so worth it and he has a hand on your ass because he says “its comfy” and you hate to admit it, but it is. So with an iron grip on your cheek you both just fall asleep before a loud blaring alarm goes off

𝗝𝘂𝘀𝘁 𝗹𝗲𝘁 𝗺𝗲 𝗵𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀

・❥・ Mark is NOT getting that damn essay done

・❥・word count: 0.9k

・❥・warnings: so much fluff, some mentions of being a pervert, absolutely NOT beta read

・❥・Now why have none of my real life boyfriends been as cute as him??? Also love you anonnn!!!!

“I’m giving up.” Mark huffed in frustration, shutting his laptop and slumping into a small, sad, pile. 

“How much do you have left?” You fought the urge to laugh at your beautiful boyfriend’s misfortune. You lay on the other side of the bed scrolling mindlessly on your phone. Despite his anguish, he looked handsome. A few strands of hair fell into his face messily and his white t-shirt suddenly seemed much tighter.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

“Like one more page.” He dragged his hands down his face, stretching it cartoonishly. He rested his head on the headboard of his bed, his chest rose and fell as he took deep calming breaths. 

“That’s not bad.” You crawl closer to him. You move the laptop off his lap, assuring it stays safely on the small bed. You cradle his face in your hands, his lips were pulled into a pout and his warm brown eyes trailed over your face like he was committing it to memory. “That’s like, home stretch.” 

“No,” He whined. He was stuck between wanting to tear away from you dramatically or nuzzling himself further into your hold on his face, so he simply sighed loudly. “I ran out of things to say like five paragraphs ago. I can’t repeat everything for the third time.” You bite your lip to avoid cracking a smile at his dramatics. 

“Oh no, whatever will my sweet boy do?” 

“Don’t mock me! I need this to pull my grade up.” You roll your eyes. Maybe you would take him more seriously if he actually did his work when he said he would. “I’m gonna finish it.” He nods. “Get away from me, tease.” He pulls himself from your hold and grabs his laptop once again. With a shrug, you back away from him to return to your side of the bed. You barely made it an inch away before he grabbed onto your leg to keep you in place. You raise an eyebrow at his antics. He doesn’t say anything but you see him struggling to contain his smile. 

You tug your leg back and curl up in your spot on the bed. For a while everything is peaceful. You scroll on your phone while Mark types away diligently. However, all good things come to an end. Before you even realized that Mark had shut his laptop he had grabbed onto you by the legs and tugged you closer to him. You yelped and curled a hand into his hair in surprise. “Mark!” You shrieked. 

He wrapped his arms around your waist with a nonchalant smile, paying no mind to your hand in his hair or how your surprised yell was cut off by a fit of giggles. He pulled you into his lap and pressed you close to his chest with a heavy exhale. His warmth blanketed you and you felt yourself relax into him. You could feel the defined musculature beneath his loose shirt and it sent a pleasant shock through you.

“I thought you were finishing your essay?” You hummed, making no moves to get off of him and let him work.

“Shh, let me have this.” He whispers into your ear. He tucked his head into the crook of your neck, his warm breath fanned over your collarbone. Once again everything was peaceful, and once again Mark had to disturb the peace. His hand wandered further down your body until it rested itself on your ass.

“What are you doing?” You pull away just slightly to look at him. He shushes you again, his eyes shut.

“Sorry.” He murmured. Despite that he doesn’t move his hand an inch. If anything he tightens his grip. 

“You aren’t sorry.” You huff. He nods and a small smile spreads on his face. 

“I’m not. Just let me have this.” He repeats. “It’s comfy.” You narrow your eyes at him. His eyes are lidded and tired but he looks back at you with a playful expression. 

“You’re a pervert.” You sigh as you lay back down on him. His muscles relax at your warm body on top of his.

“I know, I’m the worst.” He smiles into your hair. With one of his hands still gripping your cheek the other rubs soft circles into your back. You feel your breathing begin to even out as you lose yourself in the softness of the moment.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

You weren’t sure how much time had passed since you had fallen asleep but you woke up in an entirely different position than you had fallen asleep. When your eyes opened you were on your back with Mark nuzzled into your chest. His arms were still around your waist while yours rested around his shoulders. Sunlight streamed in through the window, kissing your face and giving Mark’s almost jet-black hair a warm glow. You threaded your fingers through his hair. He had been working so hard, both as Mark Grayson and as Invincible, he needed rest. 

Just as quickly as you had the thought it was interrupted. A loud, blaring alarm cut through the room, leaving you scrambling to find the source before Mark woke up. The source was, of course, Mark’s own phone. 

Essay

His alarm read. You half smiled as you closed out of the alarm. Alas, it was too late.

“What was that?” He croaked.

“Your reminder to write your essay.” You laughed as you carded your fingers through his hair. He sighed loudly as he rolled off of you. 

“I’m giving up.”

[mrkified]

the letters i "never" sent .ᐟ  | to all the boys i've loved before ୨ৎ | nct dream

when a box of y/n’s secret love letters accidentally gets sent out, their world turns upside down as seven different boys from their past suddenly confront them about their hidden feelings. each boy has a different reaction—some amused, some shocked, and some realizing they might just feel the same way. as y/n navigates the chaos of their exposed crushes, they find themselves at the center of an unexpected love story, one where they have to choose between the people they once loved—and the ones they might just love now.

pairing: nct dream xfem!reader

note: the prologue is here! i'm ngl i don't think this is my best work but sorry it took me so long (a month) -- um school is literally my 24/7 but thankfully spring break is next week so i have more time to work on everything and hopefully get everything out! i have like..... 2 more months of school and then i'm FREED. stay strong mrkified nation, daddy (me) will be back soon

word count: 1.2k ᶻ 𝘇 

tatbilb masterlist ✴︎

main masterlist ⟡

Sunlight peered into your room as your alarm started to blare that forsaken tune that told you it was time to get up for school. Your eyes still felt heavy as you slowly tossed and turned until you eventually arose from your spot in your bed. While you were slowly opening your eyes you were feeling slightly groggy, you started gathering your stuff to get ready for the school day. The sound of water pouring in the shower could be heard from the bathroom as you looked through your closet for something to wear. After you picked out an outfit you quickly ran towards the bathroom to get ready for the day.

You got to school with 5 minutes to spare and surprisingly — that was the least of your worries. Before you could even walk onto campus from the parking lot, the class president was yelling at everyone to get to class. You tried your best to avoid him before vanishing down the hallway.

When you thought you were in the clear, you felt a hand pull you around the corner into an empty room. You whipped around to face the culprit – the class president Mark Lee.

The day you met Mark was the first day of third grade. You both sat on opposite sides of the class so you didn't interact much outside of class, but he would always go out of his way to be nice to you. You two were not quite friends but he gave you tons of candy with a clumsy smile that you liked a little too much.

“Mark?! What the fuck!” you exclaimed as you pulled from his grasp, freeing your arm. He looked like he didn't know what to say as he took a moment to get his words out.

“I wanted to talk about this” Mark lifted up his hand to reveal a white envelope with a red heart on it.

A letter you knew far too well – It was one of the seven letters that you wrote when your crush was too intense that you had to confess your feelings in the form of a letter. It started in elementary school after Mark bought you a candy and you became head over heels. The letters let you organize your thoughts and feelings which is why you kept writing more as the years went by. The letters possibly getting out would be the end of the world – you had to get out of there to figure it out fast.

You originally tried to play dumb, since you knew he was awkward and hated confrontation. “I don’t know what you’re talking about”

“Are you sure? This came in the mail yesterday, it says it’s from you” Mark shuffled around, unsure how to go about this.

“Um..yeah.. I’m not sure what it is, maybe someone’s messing with us or something? But listen I really have to get to class and you shouldn’t be late either Mark” You awkwardly smiled and gestured to the door before turning and walking out. How did Mark Lee get his hands on his letter? You had to figure this out before the rest of them got their hands on their letters — unless they got it already?

You started desperately walking faster, speeding up to try and make it back to the parking lot. You couldn’t make it far before you became face first with someone’s back. This was starting to feel like a cliché — getting pulled into a classroom, bumping into someone’s back, what could happen next?

You couldn’t think for long as the boy you bumped into turned around revealing an annoyed Donghyuck. When his eyes shifted onto yours, his expression turned into a more amused one.

Donghyuck – more commonly known as Haechan, was a first class asshole. He was a bully, always making fun of people who he thought were under him. Always skipping class, never misses a party, he was one of the boys you were the most ashamed of liking.

“Well look who it is, I thought I had to search the whole school to find you. Who knew you would just come running to me, I guess I'm as irresistible as you think” His tone was smooth as he leaned against the wall. He seemed to have his letter as well, and playing dumb wouldn’t work as well as it did with Mark but you still had to try as getting out of there is your priority.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about Donghyuck — and I definitely don’t have time for this, please move” The desperation was present in your voice. You waved your hands to signal him to move but to no avail – Donghyuck stayed planted in his spot. Amusement was more prominent on his face as his smile grew bigger when you tried to move around him but he pulled you back.

“Not so fast baby, you know what I’m talking about and it’s clear you do, but really? You had a crush on me? Now that is not what I expected to come home to” He pushed back against the wall as he pulled the smushed letter out of his pocket. “Dear Donghyuck, first of all I will never call you Haech–” “Don’t start!”

You quickly covered his mouth and looked around for any witnesses. “Look Donghyuck. I don’t know how you got that but I really can’t talk about this right now, okay? The letter is old anyway” you sighed. You heard his muffled protests from under your hands before you removed them, hoping he didn’t try to embarrass you.

“Y/n? Haechan?” A voice questioned behind you

You knew the owner of the voice and you knew it too well – Lee Jeno. Professional fuckboy and Donghyuck’s ex best friend. Of course he would be behind you right now, does anyone in this school even go to class?

“What do you want Jeno? Can’t you tell she’s busy?” Donghyuck glared at the boy.

“I wanted to ask if this letter was serious” He replied while holding up his infamous letter in his hand. Just great.

Before you could even speak, Donghyuck spoke up. “You’re telling me HE got one too?”

Donghyuck rolled his eyes and scoffed, “Out of everyone in this school, you chose Jeno to write to? Unbelievable”

“And what’s that supposed to mean, huh?” Jeno stepped forward, a questioning look on his face. The tension was rising and you were starting to feel awkward so you started to look for an escape.

“You know exactly what I mean” Dobghyuck crossed his arms. “Why would she want NEO’s number one fuckboy?”

Jeno’s jaw tightened. “Why do you always do this Haechan? You always have to start something” His voice was laced with frustration.

As the boys continued their argument, you escaped down the hall once you figured they wouldn't notice. Every step you took got faster until you were eventually running out the main door of the school. A little dramatic -- but this is your social life! Senior year cannot end with seven boys thinking you're head over heels for them, it could get messy.

Considering your odds of three out of seven, it was safe to say that all of them might have gotten their letters. After pushing back the feeling of humiliation you finally had made it to the parking lot. Before you could celebrate, you saw a note on your car that wrote – “We should talk, Renjun.”

Renjun was from your Chemistry class Freshman year – stereotypical top student who didn't do anything to jeopardize his grades. During Freshman year you were on top of your grades and went to a lot of study groups which is what got you somewhat familiar with Renjun but you were never really close. Your strive for good grades caused you to form a crush on the boy because with “both of your smarts your baby would be a mini Einstein.” Sucks you got lazy after sophomore year.

Considering the note came the day the letters got sent out – it's no coincidence that he wanted to talk. You picked up the note and rummaged your pockets for your car keys before unlocking and getting into your car. Once you were in, you turned the car on and let it sit before putting it into drive.

The first thing you could think about is how easy it was to sneak out of school – like seriously… all those days spent in your third period WASTED – but this wasn't the problem here. How did all your confession letters get leaked? You would notice if you sent them yourself, right? You think you’d have enough spacial awareness to notice you shipped the wrong box of letters. Potentially.

You spent the rest of the time driving home thinking about what the rest of the boys' reactions would have been. Renjun probably read through the letter and then stashed it somewhere unimportant. Chenle probably laughed, he’d find it hilarious that someone liked him enough to write out their feelings to him. It boosted his ego knowing that you liked him. He probably told his whole team by now, his big mouth running on and on about how you are obsessed with him. You grimaced at the realization but kept going. You knew Jisung didn't care, probably shrugged off the letter and threw it away before going back to whatever emo guitarists do. Jisung’s reaction would be your ideal reaction from all seven of the boys but at least he wouldn’t pester you like Donghyuck and Chenle.

You kept driving for a while, listening to whatever songs that would distract your mind. When you approached your neighborhood you noticed someone was sitting outside your front door. This was particularly odd since it was only about 10 am on a school day. When you got closer you realized it was Jaemin, the last one out of the seven boys you wrote to. Letting out a deep breath, you pulled the car into your driveway. You put the car in park then gathered all your things before turning off the car.

Jaemin is your neighbor from next door, he moved in last summer and you both hit it off fairly fast. He was the sweetest and it wasn’t that long before you developed a crush on him. You didn't want to ruin what you two had so you hid your feelings with a letter before he was able to catch on.

Once you were out of the car, Jaemin stood up and walked towards you. “Hi”

He gave you an awkward smile and a slight wave, it was obvious he was nervous.

“Hey Jaemin” You responded reluctantly, sending him a short wave.

“Can we talk about this?” He held up the letter addressed to him and gave you a questioning look before continuing. “I don’t want us to be awkward, I really cherish our friendship.” he held your hand, a genuine smile on his face.

You could tell he didn’t want this to mess anything up but you started to feel overwhelmed. You pulled your hand out of his grasp.

“Listen – I’ve had a long day and I just want to go to my room and take a nap or something, can we talk tomorrow?” You walked past him before pulling out your keys and unlocking the door,

“See you Jaemin” You gave him a small wave before closing the door, all Jaemin could do was stand there processing what just happened. He had a strange look on his face, a face you couldn’t read. You didn’t want to dwell on it, you didn’t want to break your own heart over what he was thinking. After the door was closed, Jaemin let out a slight sigh before slowly turning around and leaving your porch.

You didn’t mean to shove the door in his face, but after seeing Jaemin it all just started to feel so real. It was finally sinking in that you just confessed to seven boys in the span of one day, every letter confessing your feelings (some more detailed than others…) and now you possibly could lose your somewhat friendship with some of them, especially Jaemin. How are you going to face them now that they know your true feelings? You let out a deep sigh and walked towards your room feeling defeated.

Once you walked through the door you ran straight to your closet. Searching for the box was harder than you thought, but when you found the small brown box filled with your graduation invites it all clicked in your head.

Yesterday you decided to send out the graduation invitations to your family, but you left in a hurry since the post office closed early that day. You quickly ran to your closet and grabbed the first box you saw, confidently taking the letters and putting them in your bag. You didn’t think to double check the letters which in turn caused all seven of the white love letters to be sent to their respective recipients.

After you reflected on the day before, you found a form of peace knowing that you were the reason that your letters were sent instead of someone else. At least it was almost the end of the year and this situation wouldn’t dwell past two months.

You got up from your spot in front of your closet and climbed into bed. Today was humiliating to say the least, but at least you have a valid reason to skip school!

“I just hope this doesn’t last until graduation..” you muttered before shifting around. You stretched out your limbs and got comfortable before slowly drifting off, blissfully unaware of the message that popped up on your phone,

“Can we talk?”

taglist: @idkwhatursayinh @yyangj3lly @bluedbliss @seulpinkk @taeeflwrr @yesohhsehun @catdonut657 @v1rginrin @dinosaurtoothbrushwithninjasauce @esloao @ryuvrsie @tinyzen @luv4jeno @haechsworld @sibwol @ypoom151999 @kkyiu @rubiiisyeon @ilovehaechie @karlitava @x-luv @yoonohswife @saranghoeforanton @addyanm @jungwonniehv127 @justbiancskirttt @vivisoni @dinonuguaegi @blondemrk @budibbly @nneteyamss @iseos1 @bbykaixx @hahaechans @lemondetox @nia197 @hollxe1

[aliwritex]

LOVERS ROCK fc43

summary: Franco is insanely obsessed. inspired by lovers rock by tvgirl.

wc: 3.7k

warnings: fingering :) brazilian!reader (barely) drinking, franco being pathetic.

notes: turns out i don’t like lovers rock (the genre) so i did bossa nova instead, hence the brazilian reader. the songs they listen to (in order) are ‘onde anda você’, ‘porque será’ and ‘samba da benção’ ;) thanks to @colpenter for the idea!

When Franco got to America for his year abroad he wasn’t expecting to meet the love of his life – maybe that was exaggerating but it’s what it felt like to him.

It was pathetic, really. He had you up on a pedestal since the first time he saw you, walking to the same class as his. That first day of class might just have been one of the best days of his life. The minute you spoke up he was fascinated, you sounded like an angel and he was sure you had just made an amazing and valid point about the lecture, even though he hadn’t been paying attention. He only watched you for weeks, waiting impatiently for Fridays, when you had class together.

He started finding out more things about you as the weeks passed, you were also an exchange student, in your third year in America, and you were always bringing a different perspective to your Politics class, comparing and talking about your own country, professors loved that. You were a good student, that much he was sure of, meanwhile, he was only taking that class for the credits – he thought it would be an easy one, he was proven wrong very quickly.

He would’ve totally dropped the class, it had truly nothing to do with his own major, but would he even see you around campus if he did? He decided against it, he had seen you walk to your car after class, you definitely lived off campus. Despite his admiration and borderline obsession, he kept putting off on talking to you. All his friends knew about the ‘beautiful smart girl in politics’ but they were starting to wonder if she was even real.

It took Franco almost two months to man up and talk to you. He tried so hard to sound smart, like he understood anything you, the professor or any of your other colleagues had ever said, but you could tell. He didn’t mind it after all, the way he mispronounced a word made you smile.

“You don’t think I talk too much? Everyone seems to hate it” you asked, already sitting down as you saw your professor walk into the room.

“Mr. Jones seems to love it, he gets really excited doesn’t he?” you nodded and smiled shyly, coaxing a smile out of Franco, too, “whatever gets you good grades, then. I’m joking, I li-”

He was about to shoot out the first compliment, actually flirt when he got interrupted “Good morning, if everyone could take their seats now, we should start in a second” your professor spoke.

You caught Franco sighing, frustratingly “Why don’t we talk after class? I’d love to hear what you think about his lectures, you’re always so quiet”

“Yeah, we should talk after class. I’m gonna sit down before he shoots me one of those death glares.” he told you while he walked away, watching you chuckle lightly.

He tried to pay attention to the lecture, to have something to talk to you about, he kept looking at the time, checking how long till he got to speak to you again. But just as he noticed there was only ten minutes left, you walked right past him and out of the door without even looking back. He thought about going after you, but that would just be creepy. So he waited, and waited, stayed till the last second of class but you were gone. He would only see you next friday.

It was a week of torture, for him and for anyone around him. He thought about you at least once every hour, he couldn’t wrap his mind around the fact that you had just left, you had never done that before, but of course you did in the morning you said you would talk to him. It couldn’t have been about him, surely something else happened, a setback. But he would only find out the next friday.

Franco was already in the room when you arrived, his hair was still damp from the shower and his cheek was pressed against his hand as he looked down at his phone. He looked good, but you already knew that. You approached him immediately, knowing you owed him an apology for the past week.

“Good morning,” you smiled, getting his attention. “I wanted to talk to you all week, Franco, I swear. I just wanted to say I’m sorry for last week, I said we should talk but I left before the lecture was done. I hope you’re not mad at me”

“Oh! No, no, no worries.”

You sighed in relief “Thank god! I thought you hated me. And I never see you around the campus so I couldn’t talk to you during the week.”

“Hey, it’s okay, really,” he reassured, “I did notice you looked a bit troubled when you left, is everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. I just accidentally locked my roommate in when I left the apartment that morning. He was fine. Anyway, we should talk after class” you chuckled.

“What do you think about coffee? Should we get some?” he asked, hands sweating, waiting for your no.

“Sure” you smiled “see you later, then” you told him and made your way to your desk.

Over coffee Franco dropped the façade. Politics wasn’t his area and he hadn’t understood a single lecture.

“How do you plan on taking his test anyway?”

“I was thinking that I could pray, a lot. And if I get too desperate I might cheat.” he confessed, making you laugh. He liked that. You were easily entertained, even with his bad jokes and comments, you smiled and chuckled. “Maybe I can beg a little, I’m not opposed to humiliation”

“Trust me, that won’t work. This is the third course I take with him. I’ve seen him fail a fair share of people.”

“I’m dropping out, then” he joked, slamming his palms on the table in defeat.

“You don’t need to do that, I have a bunch of notes, I’m sure they could help you out. And I could tell you what he likes in his tests, he’s very specific about it. It’s like a formula, once you get it right you can nail every test, trust me.”

You had to part ways for lunch but for the rest of the day Franco had a stupid smile on his face, all his friends made fun of him but he could only think about you. You weren’t that far off. Your mind was on the pretty boy with the childish smile that made you laugh. You had never really paid much attention to him, only knew he was an exchange student, and he would only be there for a semester, so you hadn’t made an effort to get to know him. A pity, really, but how could you’ve known how sweet and nice he was.

Next week he got you coffee again, on the premises of giving him some tips for that class. There was barely any talking about politics. You got to know each other, hobbies, interests, majors were all discussed. In reality you were just stalling, trying to get your nerves down to tell him about a ‘party’ at your place. You were saved by a third figure, your roommate.

“Hey,” he approached the booth where you sat “I thought you were going straight home”

“Franco invited me for coffee” you gestured your hand at the man, making your roommate look at him, “Tony, this is Franco, the guy in politics I told you about and Franco this is Tony, my housemate”

“Nice to meet you, mate” Tony said and they greeted each other with a handshake. “Has she told you about our little thing tomorrow?”

“I don’t think so”

“How rude! We’re having a little get together at our place tomorrow night. You should come, bring a friend, I guess. But just the one, our place is a little small.” he told Franco.

“He sold it terribly, but it’ll be fun, I guess. There will be alcohol!”

“I’ll come. I should take your number though, so you can text me the address.” smooth. He couldn’t have been smoother than that actually.

“I’ll see you tomorrow then, Franco. I gotta go though,” he turned to you “see you later, yeah?”

You watched Tony leave and soon Franco was walking you back to your car, still talking till you had to go your separate ways.

The next day Franco showed up at your apartment at eight, a time he expected people to be there. Wrong. He rang the bell and when you opened the door he realized the place was still quiet.

“Franco! You’re early!” you said, not seeming bothered that he was there early. He stopped to look at you. Your hair was down, and you had a dress on, completely different to your usual ponytail and jeans. It was a good different, you looked even prettier and Franco couldn’t even believe it. “Come in, no one’s here yet”

“Oh, I can come back later, I-“

“Don’t be stupid, Franco” your hand reached for his wrist, pulling him in “come in. We’re almost done setting up”

As Franco helped set up the drinks people started to show up and you excused yourself to greet them. He ended up drinking some cheap beer while talking to some people that he knew from other classes, in reality they were talking to him, and they must’ve thought he was a really good listener because he never spoke. His mind was somewhere else — watching you from across the room, smiling as you talked to someone else.

He knew the guy, Mike. Mike was handsome, and he was in a band — which Franco thought was stupid — but at some point he caught you blushing as he started to sing. He felt the horrible feeling in his chest, something he shouldn’t even be allowed to feel, but there he was, drowning in jealousy as you talked to another guy.

God, he felt terrible, disgusted even, to feel that way. So he went after a distraction, and lucky your kitchen was full of them.

He put down his beer for a second, just to analyze the other drinks set up on the table, after a quick look he had to settle for the vodka. He grabbed a clean cup and poured himself a shot, soon he felt the alcohol burning down his throat and warming his body. Franco walked back into the living room already feeling a little dizzy but when someone accidentally hit his shoulder he had to lean onto the wall to not hit the ground.

Luckily, you had seen the situation from afar and walked over to help him.

“Franco? Are you alright?” you asked, grabbing his arm to stabilize him. Franco cursed himself for letting you see him like that, embarrassing himself at your party. “Give me your hand, I’ll take you to my room for a second.” he shook his head, humming negatively but you resisted, taking his hand in yours and guiding him through the living room.

He didn’t know how but he had ended up sitting on your bedroom floor as you handed him a glass of water, kneeling next to him to make sure he was fine.

“Feeling better?” he nodded slowly and threw his head back, against your bed. “Get up, then, let’s get some air.”

He got up with your help, expecting you to walk him out of the room but you turned to your long curtains, pulling them open and revealing a small balcony. You both stood by the rails for a second, taking in the chilly night before he finally came back to himself.

“I’m sorry,” he lowered his head onto the rail, you could tell he was embarrassed, “I don’t know what i was thinking, I don’t drink, really”

“Are you sure it’s that? You’ve had the same beer all night” you chuckled.

“I took a shot,” he admitted, still refusing to look at you. “I made me real dizzy”

“That was all?” you chuckled in disbelief “A single shot?”

“Please don’t laugh, it’s already as embarrassing as it gets” he finally looked up, you were still smiling, watching and waiting for him to look back at you.

“So you’re feeling better now? We should go back in”

He just nodded and followed you back into the room, only now being in the right mind to notice the space. He tried to look around without you seeing, he noted the neatly made bed, the makeup on top of your dresser and your perfume in the air but what caught his attention the most was the wall covered in vinyls.

“Wow,” he exclaimed, “that must be a lot of music!” You nodded shyly, “You collect?”

“It wasn’t really meant to be a collection, I just like the way it sounds on vinyl. Especially the old ones” you pointed at a specific disc.

“Can we listen to something?” he tried and you nodded again.

“See anything you like?” you squatted down in front of your record player, opening it.

“Don’t know much about music. Play something you like”

You nodded and walked over to your brazilian section, grabbing an album from the back. “There’s a song in this one that was stuck in my head earlier today. I’ll play that” you pulled the disc out, wiping before putting it in and selecting the song you wanted. You sat on the floor by the bed, resting your back against it and looking up at him, reaching for his hand, “sit” Franco happily took the spot by your side as the song started. “This is bossa nova, the genre. It’s a Brazilian genre, from, like, the sixties. It’s always very soft and easy.” you told him shyly, watching his face to figure out if he liked it or not.

“What’s it about?” he was looking right back at you. He wanted you to keep talking for as long as you could.

“Missing someone, he hasn’t seen his lover, he’s reminiscing the times they had together while pacing alone through the places they used to go together. The lyrics are kind of repetitive but, to be honest, you can’t really pay too much attention to lyrics when you’re listening to old music, they can be quite problematic. This is an exception though.”

You spoke looking directly at him, your attention shifting from his lips to his eyes. Franco knew what you were doing but he thought he might have been hallucinating, the alcohol making things up in his mind. But then you reached over, your hand gently on his cheek as you guided his lips to yours. They met in a tentative peck before you looked at each other, then he finally reacted, his hands met your waist and you smiled, kissing him again.

His hands pulled you closer as you deepened the kiss. It’s all smiles and hands and by time the second song started you were sitting hip to hip, but he stopped, pulled away and looked at you for a second. “Why’d you kiss me?”

You looked at him, confused and tensing up, thinking you got him all wrong but then he smiled, his eyes squinting and cheeks rising “I just wanted to kiss you” you told him, simply and pulled him back into the kiss.

You push his head onto the bed with your hands on his face, and he pulls you with him. He’s hugging your waist, keeping you close as your tongues make into each other’s mouths. You could taste the alcohol slowly fading in his mouth and you were sure he could taste in yours too. Your hands lowered to his chest feeling his muscles against your palms and his own went down your body one resting on your bare legs and the other on the small of your back.

By that time the record was on the third song but it was really destroying the vibe for you. You couldn’t help but chuckle and let your head fall to his shoulder.

“Everything alright?” he asked, even pulling his hands away from your body.

“Yeah, yeah. It’s just the song. It is not a make out song, sorry” you pulled away and got up to stop the music “It’s kind of religious, it was killing it for me” you said as you walked back to him.

You stood right in front of him, looking down as he watched you kick off your shoes, hypnotized. You smiled at him, spreading your legs so his would be between them before you sat, directly on his lap. His hands fell to your hips naturally when you started kissing his jaw, a pretty noise falling from his lips as you dropped to his neck.

“Ah, fuck” he sighed “no, come here”

You let him take your face in his hand and guide your lips back to his. Then it was your turn to let out a satisfied hum when his palm on your back guided you to press down against his hips, feeling his arousal against yours. He lowered the hand from your face, resting it on your thigh, fingertips brushing against the hem of your dress. His other hand mirrored the action on the other side as his lips slipped down your neck.

“Can I touch you?” he whispered against your skin, making you smile and practically melt on his lap.

You pulled away, letting your hands brush his hair away from his face. The look on your face was confused? He couldn’t tell. “No one has ever asked me that”

“So, can I?” he tried again, fingers gently pinching the top of your thighs.

You just smiled and nodded, feeling his hands crawl under your dress and play with the sides of your panties. His knees were folded behind your back, giving you support as he guided you to grind against him. Your hands dived into his hair as you kissed him again, your nails running against his scalp, making him shiver. His hands kept making their way higher, up to your waist, till his thumbs were brushing your under boobs. Then they were back down, one flat against your stomach, moving past the band of your underwear as the other hooked around the side.

Franco hadn’t stopped kissing you as his fingers met your slit. He felt around your lips, surprised with how wet you had gotten just from grinding against him. They slipped past your slit, reaching lower to tease your wet hole. A soft moan passed your lips when he did, your nails scratching his scalp harder.

He smiled and brought his fingertips up to your clit, gentle sighs coming from you as he started working circles. Franco wanted to hear you, so he took his lips down to your neck, leaving your mouth free to make pretty noises as he kissed your sensitive skin. His free hand traveled up your arm, reaching the sleeve of your dress and tugging it down, his action made your tits pop out of the dress and he couldn’t help but moan when his hand met them, warm and soft.

Franco cupped a single boob, this thumb playing with your nipple, his fingers never stopping on your middle. All the different forms of stimulation had you clenching around nothing, your cunt begging to be filled.

“Franco” you called in a weak voice, “porra,” fuck you sighed, dragging your hips forward so his fingers slipped down to your hole.

You both moaned when his fingers slipped in, soft ‘oh’s leaving your mouths. But quickly he was kissing your neck again, lowering his mouth down your chest. He worked the flesh between his lips, sucking his way down to your nipple, twirling his tongue around it then going lower. He scraped your skin gently with his teeth before sucking harder, giving you a hickey on the side of your boob. It made a moan fall out of your lips.

“Seu porra” you fuck, you sighed. You tugged him away from you by the hair, making him lay his head on the bed again, and kissed him. Your hips lifted slightly, moving back and forth as he curled his fingers inside, your movements making your clit rub against his palm.

“You’re close” he said. It wasn’t a question but you nodded anyway and dropped your head to his shoulder, feeling your orgasm build up from your toes to your middle. “No, c'mon, let me see you, princesa” he spoke into your ear but the foreign language only made you melt further into him. Franco threaded his fingers through your hair, gently guiding you away from his shoulder to look at his face instead. “So pretty. ‘d be a shame if I missed your perfect face while I make you feel good.”

You clenched hard around him, soaking in the compliments and with a last rock of your hips you were coming for him. Franco made sure to watch your face, your parted lips, your lashes brushing your cheeks and the furrowed brows, all of it as your cunt trapped his fingers inside. Short moans flowed out of your mouth and Franco couldn’t think of anything prettier than that. He let go of your hair, letting your head fall back on his shoulder, your lips peppering lazy kisses on his neck.

“Can you ask me out on an actual date now?” you teased, giggling against his skin.

“What? You wanted me to ask you out?”

“Wasn’t it obvious?” you asked, too shy to pull away from his neck.

“Clearly no” he chuckled too, pulling his fingers out of you. You couldn’t see but you heard him suck them clean before resting his hand on your thigh and it made your cunt throb a little. “Listen, I should go” he said after a moment of silence while he straightened the sleeves of your dress, covering you up.

“No,” you finally pulled away, sitting back up on his lap “you should stay.” you said but he didn’t look so convinced “I’m asking you to stay. You’re probably too drunk to drive anyway”

“Okay” he nodded, “let me get you some water, though, yeah?”

You nodded back, moving off his lap to let him get up. He offered you a hand to get up before he left the room.

Franco couldn’t believe, as he poured the glass of water, that he’d be walking back into your bedroom, and would spend the night there.

[girliism]

having art and patrick as your boy best friends.

you met them in kindergarten. the three of you sat at the same table with another boy. said other boy was writing bad words on your drawing when art and patrick sprayed glue all over him.

they had to sit out of recess watching the other kids play. you brought them both flowers as a thank you and ever since then the three of you were inseparable.

so inseparable that when third grade came around and patrick saw that the three of you weren’t in the same class he brought his parents up to the school and demanded that you all be in the same class every year. middle and high school were no different.

you loved them but hated the gross tendencies they came with. “you have to sit in between us so we don’t fight over who sits next to you.” art says. but you hate sitting in between them cause it ended up with you getting caught in their burping matches. “you guys are so gross.”

but art and patrick really did care for you. so much so that at 11 when you got your first period and ignored them for a week they made it their duty to learn all about menstruation.

you were at lunch eating with your girl friends when art places a drink in front of you. “it’s a green smoothie full of iron rich vegetables so you can replenish after losesing so much blood. my mom made it.” the blonde smiles at you very proud of himself but your faces heats up in embarrassment. “also you can get pregnant now so like don’t do that.” patrick adds quite loudly and everyone is looking at you and your other friends are snickering at the interaction. you wanted to die.

watching art and patrick go though growth spurts was actually terrifying. and not to mention they ate everything. “can we get five home style burger plates two for us and one for her. with oreo milkshakes. oh and apple pie” patrick orders. you watch as the both of them clear their plates with ease now deciding if you all should go for ice cream.

it was the summer before freshman year and you had spent most of it with your grandparents but you made in back in time for the zweig end of summer party. “guys! did you miss me” you pull them in for a hug before you walk ahead of them into the zweig house. the two of the watch you with confusion. when did you become a girl?

art and patrick never really saw you as “girlish” the way they saw other girls as girlish cause they’ve known you for so long. but something changed when you were at your grandparents house. you changed.

“dude you see that right.” patrick says. him and art watch you in the pool talking to your other friends. “she has boobs.” art groans at his friends perverted observation. “can you like not stare at her chest. that’s weird.” “what, all i’m saying is that she has boobs now guys like boobs. boobs and guys are no good match. horny assholes will try to get with her all year.” “can you stop saying boobs” art whispers “they’ll break her heart and get her pregnant. we have to protect her.” patrick says sternly.

the first two years of high school boys avoided you like the plague.

“do you guys think i’m ugly?” you blurt out one night the three of you laying on your bed watching juno. both of them sputter out a slue of what’s and why would you think that. “it’s just no one’s asked me to the formal. i’m literally the only person i know who doesn’t have a date.”

patrick looks at you before shrugging. “you can come with us duh. me and art will be your date we can make it a group thing.” art nods in agreement. this makes you feel worse. “i don’t want to be your guys pity date. plus your girlfriends hate me.” art sits up turning to you. “it’s not a pity date. formals are supposed to be about having fun with you friends. and our girlfriends don’t hate you.” oh but they totally did.

you end up going to formal with art, patrick and their girlfriends and have a surprisingly good time. the night is ending and patrick’s ditch the two of you so you and art sit on the empty football field just the two of you.

“so where’s your girlfriend?” you ask. “making out with the quarterback under the bleachers.” art sighs out looking up at the sky. you wince. “sorry” art mumbles out a whatever picking at the trimmed grass.

“her loss right.” you bump your shoulder with his. art scoffs “yeah, now at least she’ll have someone to grope her.” “wait wait is big shot tennis man too scared to grope his girlfriend.” art shoves you. “shut up ok, guys get nervous too.” humming you say. “if a guy so much as wanted to kiss me i’d just do it.” eyes looking up.

arts head snaps towards you. “have you never been kissed before?” you shake your head no. “but we’re almost juniors, how have you never been kissed?” “maybe because you and pat intimidate any guy that’s has interest in me. which is really fucking annoying by the way.” you huff. “sorry about that, pat just doesn’t want you to end up on teen mom.”

the two of you sit in silence for a while. “i could kiss you.” art says. you look over to him heart beat picking up. art is a good looking guy obviously, but he was your best friend. “wouldn’t that be weird?” you bite your lip out of nervousness. “doesn’t have to be.”

you get your first kiss that night. on the football field under the night sky. it was nice, art’s lips felt nice. moving slowly against yours his hand tenderly holding your cheek. you both break away from the kiss to breathe. “thanks” you whisper.

you guys never talk about what happened that night. not to patrick and not to each other. the same way you don’t talk about the kiss you and patrick share in his treehouse at his family’s goodbye summer party before junior year.

part two

[futuremrscameron]

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱༻¨*:·bestie!kook·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱༻¨*:·

content warnings: toxic codependency, mutual obsession, discussions of antiblackness in predominantly white spaces, mentions of drugs/drug abuse, symptoms of bpd, discussion of colorism, sexual tension, misogyny, blood, violence, implied underage drinking, maternal issues, fear of abandonment, parental issues, classism, hinted/implied sexual content

bestie!kook is not spoiled, not bitchy, but a secret third thing (knows what the fuck she wants and doesn’t let anyone call her bitchy greedy or selfish). she’s an only child, of course she turned out this way.

bestie!kook lives in a mansion-like beach house and met kelce at the house party her parents threw to get to know their neighbors (flex on them). she and kelce both had the same idea of hiding out on the roof. they watched the stars, talked about school starting soon, and the struggles of being black in figure eight.

she hates her parents for moving her here.

okay hate might be a strong word but she’s not thrilled. she adjusts her halter green short chiffon dress as she sits down on the roof. she may be mad at her parents but she would never hear the end of it if she flashed the party guests. she removes her sparkly green heels and looks up at the stars. she knows there’s no real answer in the stars but looking at them has always helped her. she closes her eyes, ready to wish upon a star when she hears him.

“you mind if i chill with you?”

a dark skinned black boy she saw earlier at the party. kelce. he’s wearing a rose gold three piece suit with brown shoes. great taste in fashion? his parents definitely made him wear it.

“did my parents send you?”

“no.”

“did your parents send you?”

“no.” he chuckles

“huh.” interesting. “fine.”

he looks amused. she hates him already. “don’t jump for joy too much, i don’t know how sturdy your roof is.”

he chuckles, “that’s dark.”

“maybe.” he takes off his blazer and carefully places it on the space next to her. he sits down, arms holding his knees, looking up at the stars.

she breaks the silence when it becomes unbearable. “why are you here?”

he glanced at her and shards before turning his attention back to the stars. “party’s lame, not really my scene.”

“what’s your scene?”

he smiles, “you’ll find out soon.”

“you’re just assuming we’ll roll with the same crowd?”

he scoffs as if telling her not to play dumb. “please.”

she nods, understanding what he’s hinting at. “that bleak huh?”

he shrugs, “i’m not gonna lie and tell you i was the only black kid in school but… it’s no new york.”

“so ten times worse.”

he chuckles dryly, “exactly. before i came up here i was called “surprisingly well spoken”.”

she’s not surprised but it’s not what she wants to hear . especially not after getting her life uprooted by her parents the summer before her thirteenth birthday and moved them to the middle of nowhere.

“can’t say i’m surprised. i mean, not even an hour into the party some lady tried to touch my hair and some boy said “my skin looked good in green” fucking bitch.”

“oh we’re trading horror stories? in third grade my math teacher kept getting me confused with the other black boy in class.”

“let me guess he was light skinned.”

“light skinned. light as the fucking sun.”

they both laugh, not at the situation itself but the predictable action. when the laughter dies down he clears his throat.

“you know i have these two friends i think you’d like them.”

“only two? shocker.”

he sighs, “you ever hear the phrase ‘you catch more flies with honey than vinegar.’?”

she raises an eyebrow, “is that what you tell yourself to get you through these parties? go along to get along?”

“basically.”

“there’s no way you actually believe that.”

“and what if i do? is that so awful?”

she looks at him, really looks at him for the first time that night. “i guess not.”

they sit in silence again.

“why?”

he looks at her. “why what?”

“why reach out to me? you could’ve just left me up here alone, let me be an outcast. why didn’t you?”

he stands up and picks up his blazer. he looks down at her and smiles. “i know you wanna look like this lone wolf cool girl but… i see you..”

his words send chills down her spine. she writes that off as the cool night air.

“fuck off.”

he chuckles. “see you monday.”

he later invited her to a party the saturday before school and the rest is history.

bestie!kook is kook princess before sarah. the most popular girl in school and in outer banks, an amazing feat for someone who wasn’t born and raised in obx. she was known for her jaw dropping beauty, affluent family, and strange friendship with the kook boys. rafe, kelce, topper, and her were very popular and not just cause they were the richest. the parties they threw are still talked about to this day

bestie!kook who everyone assumes is sweet because of her bright colored outfits when in actuality she’s blunt, cold, stand-off ish, and at times, a genuine menace. she once planted coke on a girl and got her expelled for distribution all cause she didn’t like the way she looked at rafe at a party

four years after moving to obx and she can’t imagine being anywhere else.

“i guess i’m just trying to understand why and how she could do something like this. she was top of the class!” tiffany pushes a honey blonde french curl braid off her shoulder and behind her back. she brushes down her uniform's skirt and fiddles with her loose tie.

tiffany was bestie!kook’s first black girl friend in outer banks. she moved there a year after her which tiffany thinks was fate. they met in pre-algebra, tiffany helped bestie!kook solve a problem that was kicking her ass. they got to talking and have been best friends ever since. she was genuinely kind and despite popular belief, really fucking smart. academically not socially.

“please, this is totally on brand for girls like her, they think they’re too smart to get caught. did you hear her talking about ‘academic immunity’ when they arrested her? that’s not a thing!”

gianna, was the only obx native in the trio. though she transferred from kildare county high school to kildare private academy in the middle of the semester last year. she was tiffany's complete opposite in every way, she wore the complete uniform with no alterations, was more of a loner than a social butterfly, and rocked bold makeup rather than tiffany's go-to subdued look.

she and bestie!kook got along immediately despite being so similar and horribly blunt. bestie!kook loved her no bullshit attitude and disregard for standard kook faux niceties. she also loved that they were close in skin tone. she adored tiffany but there were some things the light skinned girl just couldn’t understand.

bestie!kook stifles a laugh at her friend’s remark and thanks the heavens that her face is buried in the locker so they can’t see her grin. they’re talking about the scandalous affair that they witnessed less than an hour ago but she’s too hungover to care.

she opens her locker and lifts her sunglasses to cheek herself in her locker’s newly bedazzled mirror.

“but still, ashley? ashley who calls weed marijuana expelled for selling coke!? personal feelings aside you can’t tell me that’s not totally sketch.” tiffany’s cheeks are flushed from her raising her voice and screaming about her conspiracy theory. she fans her face, trying to calm herself down. her usual light skin has some more melanin to it after spending her summer outside tanning.

“yes i can. it’s not insane, she acted like she was better than everyone, people like that always have some shit to hide.” gianna frowns at tiffany’s sympathy for the girl.

“but she was always nice to me.” tiffany frowns at the newfound information.

“gee i wonder why.” the dark skinned girl unwraps a piece of bubblegum and pops it in her mouth. “that bitch had it coming. you remember when she wrote that “anonymous” column about how certain students need to ‘speak properly and appropriately at school’. should’ve beat her ass then, pick-me ass bitch.”

“we don’t know that that was her.”

“she’s already been through so much.”

“please did you see the way she looked at rafe? she totally wanted him.”

tiffany frowns, not at the slight directed at her but the new information. “really? i never noticed.”

bestie!kook loved her but she was never great at paying attention to details and believed people always honest about their intentions. she also had certain blind spots like anti-blackness that wasn’t blatantly obvious.

“of course you didn’t.”

“hey!” tiffany's face is red with anger and embarrassment.

bestie!kook slams her locker shut, drawing both girls attention to her. she sighs and punches the bridge of her nose. “it’s too early for this shit.”

the girls apologize at the same time. bestie!kook frowns, “i don’t want you girls fighting over someone so… insignificant.”

they both look like they want to argue their points to her further but are (thankfully) interrupted by none other than rafe cameron.

rafe throws his arm around bestie!kook reader and gives the other girls a semi-friendly smile. “hey ladies.”

“hey rafe!”

“cameron.”

bestie!kook pouts, “what, no greeting for me?”

rafe turns his attention to her. he still towers over her despite her heeled shoes.

he shrugs, “well you ditched me this morning and we saw each other in home room." his tone is nonchalant but she knows him, his real feelings always show in his eyes. his stare is cold, if looks could kill she'd burn under his gaze.

she scoffs, “okay 'ditched' is crazy, i drove myself to school one time and home room was hours ago i want a new greeting.”

“hmm.”

his cold response irks her. she glances at her girls and they get the message.

gianna clears her throat. “we should probably get going tiff.”

tiffany frowns, “what but this is our free period?”

“which is why we made plans remember?”

“we did?”

she grabs tiffany's hand and drags her away. “yes.”

“ooh can we go to chick-fil-a!?”

“sure babe.”

rafe turns his attention back to bestie!kook, "what were you guys talking about?"

she closes her locker and takes off her sunglasses. “nothing.”

he removes his arm from around her shoulder and blocks her view of the hallway. “it was ashley wasn't it.”

of course he knew. "if you knew why the fuck would you ask?"

"well fuck me for giving you the benefit of the doubt."

"benefit of the doubt for what!?"

"to tell me the truth!" they've gained the attention of some students and admin by now. she blushes and grabs his hand, "come on." she drags him away and doesn't stop til they reach the janitor's closet.

"i know this is about last night. you know you can tell me anything right?" his strikingly blue eyes shine with worry.

she nods. “okay.”

she tells him everything. that morning she threw on her sunglasses after donning her uniform with a plan in mind. she hadn’t even carpooled with rafe like they usually do just so she could get there early and set her plan in motion. she had ashley write her a fake doctor’s note for her sunglasses and hugged her to show her appreciation. the girl was caught off guard and that’s when she planted the coke on her.

rafe is stunned into silence. he looks down at her, “you did that for me?” his voice is uncharacteristically soft.

she looks up at him through her eyelashes. “i’d do anything for you.”

bestie!kook might be a nepo baby but she works for her money. she has her own business doing hair and opened up outer banks's first beauty supply store at 19. her grandma thought her when she was young cause she hated having to wait on her to book (mostly home) appointments, with her busy schedule.

bestie!kook and kelce are like siblings in the way they argue. a lot of the figure eight residents also think they’re related but that’s something else entirely. he was her first friend in obx after all and is one if the few black kids in figure eight.

bestie!kook cleans up her diy hair station in her living room as kelce follows her around.

“if you’re gonna be here you might as well help.” she shoves a large container of hair into his hands. he looks down at it and back up at her, she’s already moved onto another location.

he catches up to her easily. she curses his long legs internally. “what about the friend discount?”

“doesn’t apply to you after you broke my fucking vanity.”

he pouts. “how long are you gonna hold that against me?”

“forever. don’t ask me stupid questions.”

“okay if not for me then do it for my sister.”

“that’s not fair.”

“she really wants to look good for her eight grade formal and i know it’s last minute so i’ll pay extra.”

he gives her his best puppy dog eyes. she looks disgusted.

she rolls her eyes and sighs, “fine. but only ‘cause i love your sister.”

“yes!” he gives her his best boyish smiles, “and i know you love me too.”

“please. you’re lucky i don’t gut you with this comb.”

“jesus.”

bestie!kook who puts up a wall to stop people from getting too close because she believes when you let people in that’s when you get hurt. rafe changes that for her

bestie!kook and rafe being so close is a surprise to everyone in town until they get to know her. they’re the same but different. he trusts her more than anyone else, it’s why he tells her everything from his mom leaving when he was young to killing peterkins

bestie!kook whose fashion can be described in five words; bright colors and mini skirts

bestie!kook who is always the best dressed at midsummer and always goes with rafe

year 1

year 2

year 3

year 4

year 5

year 6

year 7

bestie!kook goes to the main land a lot cause the local shops just don’t have what she wants and brings rafe along nine times out of ten

rafe and bestie!kook planned their shopping day to the mainland weeks in advance. it was the perfect date. emphasis on 'was'. topper joined last minute because he was in a bad mood after sarah made him look stupid. again.

bestie!kook runs around the shop like a kid in a candy store picking up dresses, tops, shorts, and skirts and putting them in her cart.

"rafe!" she runs over to rafe and shows him her newest find. "isn't this the cutest?"

rafe smirks, "you gonna model it for me."

she bites her lower lip, "maybe if you’re good"

he chuckles as she skips away. he looks to his left and spots his friend frowning. "what?"

topper jumps slightly like a kid who's been caught taking extra halloween candy. "nothing."

his passivity has always irritated rafe, "just spit it out. i don't want you sulking for the rest of the day."

topper takes a deep breath, preparing himself to speak and for rafe's reaction. “i’m just saying man no disrespect to you or her but i wouldn’t let my girl leave the house wearing shit like that.”

“damn this is hard. listen to the man who got cheated on and punked in front of a crowd and called me crying about it and begging for my help at 3 a.m. or keep doing what i'm doing." rafe pretends to be deep in thought, tapping his chin and furrowing his brows. “i think i’m good.”

topper frowns, "you said you wouldn't bring that up again."

bestie!kook and rafe’s relationship is the topic of many discussions, people don’t know if they’re just friends, dating, or friends with benefits. the main questioners are the camerons and topper the topic usually comes up at breakfast which ward mandates a family event.

bestie!kook whose boyfriend best friend rafe has scary dog privileges. he’ll fight anyone, girls included he doesn’t give a fuck.

bestie!kook loves getting high with rafe cause they balance each other out. she gets all deep in thought and philosophical and he gets pathetic and horny.

bestie!kook, smoking leisurely: you know… while i was away, when i felt down… i would climb up to my roof and look to the stars. it was comforting knowing you were under the same stars. 400 miles away with the same constellations, isn't that crazy?

rafe, on his third line, pupils so dilated he looks like an excited kitten: can yuo put that out on me?

bestie!kook loves partying with rafe, whether it’s a party thrown by one of them, their friends, or a boneyard party they’re there one never far from the other

rafe doesn’t dance. it’s not that he can’t he’s just not into it. at parties he’s either selling, drinking, or doing coke. unless he’s with bestie!kook. she's sitting on his lap while he counts money. he's doing a line off her tits and he's placing an ecstasy pill on her tongue. she’s dragging him to the dance floor. slow dancing leads to grinding which leads to one of them dragging the other to a private area and coming back 30 minutes later with ruffled clothes and hair.

bestie!kook who uses rafe’s need for approval and complex maternal issues to combat being on the receiving end of his misogyny make sure she comes out unscathed compared to the other women in his life

rafe comes to her after melting the cross. it's almost midnight when she answers the aggressive knocking and sees a bloody rafe.

“oh my god.” he pushes past her into the house muttering something to himself. she closes the door and follows after him, “rafe.” he continues pacing and muttering like he doesn’t hear her. “rafe!”

“it’s all my fault. everyone’s gonna know. they’re gonna- just gotta- gotta fix it i can’t fix it.”

“rafe!” he snaps out of his daze and finally meets her eyes. there’s blood around his mouth and bruises on his hand.

“what happened?”

“um..” he sniffs and wipes at his nose. “i tried to fix it.” his voice cracks, barely hiding the sadness in his voice. “i tried i did but i- i just made it worse.”

she holds her arms out. he melts into her arms and shrinks himself down to fit in her hold. “i’m sorry.”

she caresses his head. “hey it’s okay. it’s okay.”

bestie!kook is 99% positive rafe does not like women. he’s definitely attracted to them but she doesn’t think he views them as people. over the years she’s noticed that rafe puts women into two categories; caretakers and objects of desire

bestie!kook doesn’t strictly fall into either category so it breaks his brain a little bit trying to figure out how he should treat her which leads to many of their fights

they're at a party a when he pulls her off the dance floor and away from her dancing partner and takes her to an empty room.

"what the fuck rafe!?" she screams as she watches his lock the door.

he stalks towards her, “so what you’re just throwing yourself at any guy who’s nice to you?”

“fuck you rafe! you’re just mad he had the guts to admit what you’ve been thinking all these years.”

he scoffs, “is that what you think? huh?” he chuckles and moves closer, every time he takes a step forward she takes a step back. “yeah i bet you’d like that wouldn’t you? you know i thought you were a nice girl but you’re just like every other slut in this party.”

“i’m not talking to you. not when you’re being like this.”

“like what?”

“an asshole! i don’t like talking to you when you’re being an asshole, rafe. okay?”

he chuckles coldly, “what you think you’re better than me?”

his movements are twitchy, scratching his ear one second and rubbing his head the next and his pupils are dilated.

she frowns, he's really high right now. "look i don't have time for this back and forth bullshit okay?"

he frowns, "it's not bullshit okay and and i just i don’t get you. you lose your shit when i talk to a girl but here you are doing worse. do you know how it makes me look? my best friend dry humping some guy on the dance floor?”

“of course it’s about you. it’s always back to being about you. you’re so fucking selfish!”

“hey!” he grabs her face, squeezes her cheeks with his hand. “you think you’re better than me is that it?”

she scratches at his hand and pushes at his chest but when he’s high he’s like a whole different being. “let go.”

“i’m just trying to figure out what your end goal is.”

“stop it rafe!” she pushes him away, tears in her eyes and fire the first time she looks genuinely afraid of him. that sobers him up real quick.

“i’m sorry.” he reaches out to her but she slaps his hand away.

“fuck you rafe.” she storms past him, leaving him stewing in self hatred and regret.

bestie!kook who lets him in when he apologizes the next day like clockwork saying the usual right things

“i’m sorry. i was high and-”

“you said some really hurtful things rafe.”

“i know.”

she can’t stay mad at him, not when he gets on his knees and begs for her forgiveness. begs her not to leave him.

bestie!kook who is an icon to many of obx’s young women. she doesn’t take shit from anyone. especially not men.

“hey jj, she said she doesn’t want the drink fuck off.”

“well if it isn’t the future mrs cameron. shouldn’t you be busy buying his coke or something?”

“so funny! hey stop me if you’ve heard this one, white trash pogue joins father in jail after forcing sketchy beverage on sarah cameron, daughter of prominent figure of the community?”

“fuck you.”

“byyeeee.” she smiles and wiggles her fingers while waving. she turns back to sarah, “sorry about that.”

sarah looks at her in awe, “thanks, sorry you had to do that.”

“please, we girls gotta look out for each other. plus you could put in a good word for me with your brother.”

“my god.”

bestie!kook whose relationship with the camerons is all over the place. rafe is her favorite but sarah is her biggest supporter (after rafe of course). she often lends an ear to her when she fights with rafe though she’s not the most helpful and her bias shows.

it’s 1 a.m. on a saturday when bestie!kook sees topper’s instagram story and spotted rafe in the background with his tongue down some girl’s throat. she sits on her bed crying while gianna and sarah comfort her.

“i told you he wasn’t shit.”

sarah nods, “gianna’s right, you deserve better”

gianna sobs harder, “why didn’t i call tiffany?”

“because you wanted the truth not to be coddled.”

bestie!kook continues crying as sarah rubs her shoulder.

“hey he’s a dick.”

“he’s your brother sarah.”

“which is why i know it better than anyone.”

bestie!kook who treats wheezie like the little sister she’s always wanted. rafe says she spoils her but she doesn’t care she finds the girl absolutely adorable.

she takes wheezie out for a girls day filled with ice cream, shopping, and fireworks watching. all good things can’t last long though which is why rafe calls her while she’s out with wheezie. she answers the phone cheerfully, “hi rafe.”

“i miss you.” she can almost hear his pout over the phone.

“i miss you too. but i promised wheezie i’d take her out for ice cream.”

“you spoil her. it’s why she acts like that..”

she rolls her eyes. “look i gotta go, my favorite cameron’s calling me.”

“haha. wait do you really mean that? hello!?”

“bye rafe.”

bestie!kook and ward’s relationship is a bit strained, he likes her but he worries about her impact on his son’s fragile state and her hold over him. he’s like a wise father figure with a sketchy past and present.

bestie!kook who is actually sweet to rafe. everyone notices the way she is seeing others vs the way she acts around him. goes from ambivalent god to schoolgirl in love

he comes to her often crying about ward’s mistreatment and distrust. when ward kicks him out he goes to her.

“you shouldn’t be just tell me to fuck off. i’m more trouble then it’s worth.”

she frowns, “don’t say that that’s not true.”

he sniffles and shakes his head. she doesn’t know how to help him, she hates seeing him in pain like this. she slowly and gently reaches out to him and grabs his hand. she feels him tense and gives his hand a soft squeeze,. “you’ll always have me. i’m on your side.”

that’s exactly what he needed to hear.

bestie!kook and rose don’t get along much. rose is very passive aggressive and bestie!kook is very blunt. unstoppable force immovable object.

bestie!kook notices rafe’s coke use is becoming more frequent ever since he came back from the bahamas. she wants to help rafe get better but there’s only so much she can do. people (ward and rose) often forget she’s just a kid, she loves rafe but love isn’t enough to save him.

“mrs. cameron-”

“please no need for formalities you’re practically family. call me rose.”

“okay rose. i’m not gonna beat around the bush cause i respect you. i think rafe should go to rehab.”

“what?”

“it’s on the mainland and i know it seems sudden and all but i’ve noticed him getting worse and i’m scared that- that if we don’t act now. before we know it- it’ll be too late and i- i don’t wanna lose him.”

her voice catches in her throat as she thinks of rafe’s declining mental state and growing drug use. rose hugs her and softly rubs her back.

“hey hey it’s okay it’s okay. you really love him.”

she sniffles and nods. rose nods, “then don’t mention this to him. forget about it.”

“excuse me?”

“he’s going through a lot right now.”

“yeah no shit that’s why he needs this.”

“why now? hm? why the sudden change in heart?” when she doesn’t get an answer she scoffs, “you spend all this time going to parties, coming here at good knows when high out of your minds and now you care? why? cause it’s affecting you now?”

“that’s not true. i care about him.”

“then don’t do this to him. not now not while he’s in such a fragile state.”

she scoffs, “please. like you care. we all know this isn’t him its about preserving great cameron name and its bullshit legacy.”

“keep your fucking voice down.” she glares at the girl. “you have some nerve coming to our house with this holier than thou bullshit. especially in our time of grief.”

she marches over to to the door and opens it, “i think it’s time for you to go.”

bestie!kook scoffs but walks to the door, not wanting to give the woman any more of her time. she glared at the woman, “if anything happens to him it’s on you.”

bestie!kook finds renfield’s dead body in the truck

she didn’t mean to truly. she was just worried about rafe and went looking for him in his own. he hadn’t been home for a while she wasn’t expecting him to be there, much less there with a dead body.

“it’s not what it looks like.”

she gasps, “rafe.”

“don’t scream.” breathing heavily, he looks at her lips then her eyes. “i didn’t kill him.”

she meets his eyes. “i believe you.”

his eyes widen in relief and shock. the upper corner of his mouth twitches up, the ghost of a smile. “i don’t why i ever doubted you.”

she looks back at the body and frowns. “what are we gonna do?”

“we?”

“if you think i’m gonna let you do this alone you really don’t know me.”

bestie!kook who is crushed when rafe leaves for guadeloupe. she stays in her room and cries believing that he’s gone for good. her friends and parents are worried at

bestie!kook who gets a knock on her door on her balcony window when she wakes up and runs to grab the gun she got after everything that went down with rafe and barry

she slowly approaches her window and opens her curtains with her gun drawn.

“hey.”

“rafe?” to say she’s shocked would be an understatement. “what the fuck are you doing here?” her tone hurts his chest but it doesn’t surprises him.

“i understand you’re mad.”

“understatement of the year.”

“but i can explain everything.”

“okay go.”

as far as explanations go. it’s not the worst excuse she’s ever heard. he pulls her into a tight hug. she could never stay mad at him for long.

“don’t ever leave me again.” it’s muffled into his chest.

“i won’t.”

————————————-———————————-

i really hope y’all liked this one it took me a minute. comment your thoughts, criticism is welcome as always but keep it classy. <3

[ev3rgreenxtrees]

First Choice

-M.S {pt 1}

Synopsis: Your best friends with Nicolas Sturniolo. He’s been your best friend since the third grade— you’re now in your senior year. What happens when the brother you don’t get along with all of the sudden needs you to fake date him?

Pairing: good girl!fem!reader (she/her) X bad boy!Matt Sturniolo

Warnings: Cussing, arguments (not angst. yet.), slightly suggestive, cigarettes, mentions of alcohol and drugs, use of Y/N.

<*•*>

“Please, Y/N..” Matt begged, his eyes pleading— unlike how you’ve ever seen him. He’s always been such an asshole to you. Since you’ve been friends with his brother, Nick. On the other hand, Chris was sweet. You never understood why Matt couldn’t be like Chris.

But here you are. Matt was now begging you to be his fake girlfriend. You weren’t sure why he wanted you to, or why he needed anyone to, in that matter.

“Why, Matt? What am I getting out of it?” You scowl, annoyed at the boy, who refused to let you leave the now empty classroom. All of your other classmates were already at lunch, but matt stopped you to ask this ridiculous question.

“Well- I..” Matt sighed, embarrassed in himself. Matt was a very good looking guy, and had his fair share of hookups and girlfriends, but never once did you think he’d be begging you to fake date him. Ever.

“Don’t you dare fucking tell me it’s to get back at your girlfriend.” You state annoyed, just wanting to head to lunch.

“Well, not really..” Matt mumbled. “Okay. Listen to me.” The boy states, as if he hadn’t already had your full attention. “Me and Lacey broke up— obviously, and everyone was teasing me for it, saying I fumbled and shit. Like, Nate, Jordan, Kyle, and even fuckin’ Chris wouldn’t keep his mouth shut, so.. I may have accidentally told them I already have a new girlfriend..” Matt mumbles shyly, and you couldn’t help but snicker.

“No fucking way.” You squeak, trying to hold back your laughter. “You fumbled bad, and your friends are fuckin’ with you for it, so you want me to help you? When have you ever gave a fuck about helping me? All those times I needed a ride or something from the store when you were already out?” You scoffed.

“Y/N, please..” He whines. “c’mon, I’m beggin’ ya..” He pleads. “Fuck, I’ll even get on my knees if ya want me to,”

“Matt, get the fuck up.” You demand, feeling awkward about him kneeling down in front of you. Part of you, however, thought it was cute. The way his hands were intertwined tightly, his hair covering his eyes slightly, but from what you could see of them, he was looking up at you longingly. “Matt. Up.” You demanded more stern this time.

He obliges, quickly standing up in front of you, a glint of hope in his eyes.

“Why me..? Why am I your first choice?” You question. It wasn’t a random question. If you were to agree, this would be something you feel is need-to-know.

“You’re the most believable. Not because your looks or anything like that, but because I’ve known you longest.” He tells you, but the way he speaks makes you think he’s not telling you the complete truth.. but close enough- right?

“Okay— But first, we have to lay ground rules. No kissing me, at all. Second, not too much PDA. I hate PDA in general; and it doesn’t help that we’re not actually dating. Third, pet names and stuff are fine, but never get cocky with me. Okay?” I ask, keeping my voice clear. Being truthful, I wasn’t so sure why I agreed to help him. But I did.

“Really? Thank you!” The boy squeals happily, pulling you into a hug. You tense at his touch, something you haven’t felt before. It wasn’t bad— but it was definitely new. He continues to mumble small ‘thank you’s, before letting you go. “Can you sit by me at lunch? It’ll make it more believable.” He asks.

You reluctantly agree, not quite sure how he was so open to asking you things like this. Asking someone to ‘fake date’ you is something you’d have to work up years of courage to ask someone to do. He immediately slips your hand in his, pulling you out of the empty classroom— the same one he had pulled you into randomly moments before.

You look down at his hand in yours as he wandered down the halls, pulling you behind him. He looked so happy. When you both arrived into the packed commons, he pulled you to the table he usually sat at, your friends giving you an odd look as you strolled right past them, hand-in-hand with your sworn enemy.

The table Matt sat at consisted of his closest friends, Nate, Jordan, Kyle, Luke, Nicky, and his brothers, Nick and Chris. You weren’t familiar with Kyle, Jordan, or Luke, but Nate and Nicky sometimes came over to the triplets house when you were hanging out with Nick.

“Y/n..!” Nick yells, but his voice quickly trailing off. “Matt..?” He says in an unsure tone, his head tilting. “Why are you here?” He questions.

“Guys,” Matt speaks up, grabbing everyones’ attention. “This is the girlfriend I was telling you about.” He states proudly, but almost seemingly unsure of himself. Girlfriend. It sounds different hearing it from him.

“No fucking way.” Nick gapes, his jaw slack.

“Yes fucking way.” Matt teases, before taking his usual seat. “Hold on. You can sit here, sweetheart. I’ll go grab myself a different chair.” He hums, standing back up from his seat after he realizes there was no open seats.

You were taken slightly aback. Obviously Matt would have to act like this, since you were ‘dating’, but it was something you definitely weren’t used to.

“Y/N! You’re insane!” Nick says, holding back a laugh. Your leg bounced slightly as you realized everyone at the table was staring at you.

“Hm? How so?” You asked confused. Was Matt not a good person to date? Obviously he wasn’t nice to you, but thats because you hate each other. He always seemed so sweet and gentle around his ex.

“Matt..?” Nick furrowed his eyebrows judgmentally. “You guys.. hate eachother..?” He questions.

“No, we obviously don’t, Nick.” You correct sweetly, as Matt pulls over a chair to sit next to you. Matt almost immediately noticed that your leg was bouncing, so he gently rested one of his hands on your knees reassuringly.

Even though you told him not to touch you, you do find his touch quite soothing. You glance over at him, and he offers you a slight nod, before his attention goes back to the table full of his friends. Maybe— Just maybe— this whole ‘fake dating’ with Matt wasn’t such a horrible decision after all.

『 ↳✧･ﾟ Finn yaps❕ ;

sorry this chapter is kinda short, i just wanted to make the first chapter shorter and show how the fake dating came to be <3

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱ I do NOT give permission for my work to be published on any other site, nor to be claimed as your own . However , reblogs , likes , and comments are much appreciated ! 🤍

ੈ✩‧₊˚ @bernardenjoyer @lovely-calypso @slut4mattsturn @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss @junnniiieee07 @75sturn @thenickgirl

divider creds to @v6que 🤍

[corkinavoid]

Hogwarts??? So you hate trans people then, if your supporting jk

First of all, it's 'you're', not 'your'. If you want to accuse someone of something, then at least do it in a grammatically correct way.

Second, that's a lot of conclusions for no apparent reason.

Third, don't like - don't look, the 'block' button exists for a reason, and I'm not here to provide a comfortable experience for you. You're the one responsible for that part.

With that out of the way, let me rant about how much I fucking despise J.K. Rowling.

Let me get this straight, though, her stance on trans rights is not the first or the main reason for my dislike. In all honesty, I don't have enough care in myself to touch internet drama with a ten foot pole, so all I know about it is that apparently Rowling hates trans people, which, yeah, fuck her.

By the way, what do you even consider 'supporting an author'? Buying their books or merch? Liking their Twitter posts? Defending them on social media? Because I've done literally none of that. I haven't even watched the movies, and I've never read the last book, because at the time it wasn't published (or written yet), and by the time it was, I was already into Eragon series and didn't care about Harry Potter.

Now, to the important part.

I fucking hate J.K. Rowling because of her absolute lack of comprehensive worldbuilding. She sucks at creating a logical system of magic, at her own world's history, economics, and politics. Nothing in her books makes sense.

Why do the wizards need wands? Why do they write with quills on parchment when there's paper and notebooks and goddamn ink pens and color pencils? Why don't they teach math in Hogwarts? Why don't the teachers have, like, some introductory lessons or at least books for muggleborn or muggle-raised students? What the fuck was that 'power of mother's love' bullshit? Where did that story about Peverell Brothers and Death come from, and why didn't anyone think to mention it when Harry first got the Invisibility Cloak? Why in the world is the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets in the girl's bathrooms of all places? Why is there a subject for Ancient Runes but no one fucking uses runes? Why didn't Harry sign up for Muggle Studies, it would have been an easy grade? Why was Hermione the only one to have a time-turner in the whole school, she was fucking thirteen, what was McGonagall thinking? Where are any kind of PE lessons? Why the everloving fuck was Triwizard Tournament held at a school, with teenagers participating? What's more, why couldn't they choose the champions beforehand so the visiting schools didn't have to transport their whole student bodies over for a year? Why were they fighting dragons when it's common knowledge that no sane adult person would dare to do that alone by themselves? What was that arch in the Ministry where Sirius died? What the fuck was even going on for the most part of the series?

None of it makes an ounce of sense. Every fucking event in the books is a product of poor imagination and lack of logic. Rowling is fucking dumb as a brick. I've heard five-year-olds come up with stories that had more reason than the whole Harry Potter series.

Have you seen the 'map of wizarding schools' she came up with? That thing makes me feel the rage of a thousand men. One single school for the whole damn Africa? Bitch, there are over fifty countries there, each with their own language, how do you expect them to communicate? Not to mention India and China having one school for both of them, do you have any idea of the population of both of those countries? That school must be, like, a size of a city, not to mention culture differences and language barriers again.

Also, what was that fucking thing about kids flying on whole ass trees instead of brooms in Koldovstvorets, that one offends me personally. Not to mention the actual name of that school, because it translates to 'magic palace', are you kidding me?

I can keep ranting about this for hours, and never run out, but this is getting rather long, so I'm going to wrap this part up. Just know that the whole of Rowling's worldbuilding is a ton of bullshit that has no right to be as popular as it got.

Yet, I do like the general idea that she had. The magic world that is hidden inside the real one, the whole charms and spells aesthetic, a castle full of secret passages, and all that old classic English vibe to it. It could have been good. It could have been marvelous, if Rowling had, like, a few more braincells. Alas, she didn't, and here we are.

A few years ago, I've found a fic on ao3, 'survival is a talent' by ShanaStoryteller. It's a Series Retold, and it's incomplete. If you haven't read it, I really advise you to, it's perfect in a way the original will never be. Ever since I've read it, I decided that that fic is my canon version of Harry Potter.

On a different note, I think that at this point, HP fandom and J.K. Rowling exist in two different dimensions. That woman had created a world, yes, but it doesn't belong to her anymore, it belongs to everyone who enjoys it. She clearly doesn't, she only enjoys the profit she is making from it.

If you've made it this far through my Harry Potter related rant, thank you, and have a beautiful day <3

[kerryshifts]

hey I'm the same anon who asked about merlin dr ideas and though I don't have any official shifting plans rn im getting back into my harry potter obsession (6th grade me would be proud) and ig I'm looking for ideas cus I'm not too fond of scripting original new families idk why but I might try it ig anyway I'm open to any ideas this goes for both marauders and golden trio Era (i will definitely be scripting out alot of the deaths i am sorry I simply cannot allow fred Sirius Cedric and remus to die )

hogwarts script ideas ! pt 1 here.

part i: golden trio era.

( act i. ) for who doesn't want to script a new family.

ONE … DREAMERS, PROPHETS. SAME THING.

malfoy. it's basically royalty. rich, beautiful, almost ethereal. honestly speaking: no matter how much you hate that family, who wouldn't want to be a malfoy? heir to the ancient empire, you were proud of your family… even if sometimes you would secretly disagree with some of their ideals. your mother would treat you as her most precious gift, and your father taught you how to be ambitious and good in politics. your twin (you were I2 minted older!) would never backstab you and betray you. you were living the fantasy of many. except… not everyone would want dreams. not all of malfoys were prophets: it’s very uncommon, and the last prophet of the family happened to be almost 2OO years ago. you were a rarity; able to see the future since you were a kid, the dreams become longer and more vivid with the passing years. you have a big decision on your hands, now: stop and prevent what is coming, or watch it all happen?

TWO … ARE THE RUMORS TRUE?

house of black. after the (disowned) first son sirius went to azkaban, and the death of regulus black … orion and walburga seemed to not have chances of redemption. they were desperate: after regulus' death everything wrong that they did in life slapped them in the face. it was hell. they hated voldemort for what he did to their family, they hated themselves for what they did to their sons. but then, something happened: it was uncommon for a grown up couple like them to be pregnant, but there you were. a third and last possibility. the redemption they asked for. theit third child, and heir of the most noble and most ancient house of black. orion and walburga said fuck you to the ideals that killed their family and had you. loved you, spoiled you… even if you were a bit uncommon: i mean, it’s very rare to see ghosts. your parents decided to keep it a secret from the public (even if there were rumours, of course), because you would have been studied from magiwizards, and they only wanted peace. so, ghosts: walburga started sobbing when you said to her that you can see and talk to your dead brother. or talk to legends in the wizarding world… and even muggles, if you want.

(note: you can script that, since you can also see james potter, he explained the whole sirius-peter thing and that after you told your parents, orion made suuuure to make sirius have a real process, you win the case, and sirius is free)

THREE … RIDDLE ME THIS. (i had to say it. sorry)

riddle / gaunt. well, aren't you harry potter's worst nightmare? child of the dark lord .. you were destined to do something great. you can talk to snakes, and if an immortal man (because of his horcrux) made a child, of course it would have repercussions. your power? enormous. magic? goes insane. intelligence? oh, you are salazar slytherin's wet dream (this is weird, but you get what i mean…).

( act ii. ) for who wants to script a new family.

ONE … WHAT IS THIS, A FANFICTION?

from muggle to fucking legend. you are an avid harry potter reader. really. you love harry potter… so imagine your surprise when, after an earthquake, it's 1994 (or the year you want to shift in) and suddenly you are a fucking wizard. everyone is telling you that you are the child of the 29th pureblood family, but you have no idea what the fuck they are talking about. now, you are rich.. and you go to hogwarts. really cool. oh— and you know everything; everyone assumes you are just a prophet who can see the future. you are like a legend at hogwarts, now. but then, when people start asking you things you never read in the book, and you guess it right… you start to realise that everything you say just become reality. not in a manifestation way… more like magic. it’s kind of insane. chaotic. legend!!!!!!

for now i don't have many originals idea for this… check pt1 tho!!

part ii: marauders era.

ONE … A CLASSIC.

you weren't part of those families that could have been distinguished from the rest by the size of their house or the richness of their ancestors: indeed, they did not distinguish themselves at all. they were one of the many middle class families, lived on the pounds, shillings and pences they earned every day and the two parents tried to raise their three childs as better as they could. the eldest, instead, stood out very well from the rest of their neighbourhood, because of a very particular thing. it didn't happen often to have a witch/wizard in a muggle family, but yours discovered the existence of magic when young you received your letter for hogwarts school of wizardry and witchcraft at your eleventh birthday (and they all were amazed!). a lot of changes came with the 70s. everything was happening everywhere and at all once, but as one of your parents said everytime you thought they couldn't do something: nothing is impossible! and you all tried to keep up with the rules and the people of the wizarding world ⸻ even if, you soon learned, some of the wizards and witches weren't very welcoming.

TWO … CHILD OF WHO!?!?!?

grindelwald. a name that makes everyone shake in their boots. well, look you being there: put under a spell by your father (the dark wizard!!!!) before he got defeated, that makes you unable to get old – almost like stopped in time, like in a coma, you were discovered by the ministry of magic… and there you are. at first, no one knew what to do with you; you not only seemed to be powerful, but you were also a metamorphmagus, they were scared of you. you were just a child, of course… but what if you were like your dad? well, fleamont potter thought that the way his colleagues were acting was absolutely ridiculous. so, he and euphemia adopted you, and james (adopted brother who fortunately has the same age as you) would absolutely burn the world for you. like. real sibilings bond!!!!!!!

hope this helped in any way! <3

[albatmobile]

parent teacher conferences and other places to meet a pornstar

next: [2] [3] coming soon: [4] || ao3

𓅪 Rated: E | 4.5k includes: cam girl AU, teacher AU, masturbation, public sex, caught, fingering, voyeurism, come swallowing, facial, deep throating misunderstandings, confessions

𓅪 cam girl fem!reader x jason todd, eventual cam girl fem!reader x roy harper, eventual cam girl fem!reader x jason todd x roy harper

You hate people your age. Always quick to judge and even quicker to shun. 

Kids, on the other hand? You could deal with them.

Kids couldn’t turn their noses up at you, they couldn’t gossip about you and they definitely couldn’t use Google. If they could, they’d find your not so clean history. You’ve never been fucking arrested- none of that shit. No, you needed to make up extra money to compensate for the low paycheck you take as a teacher during the day by becoming a camgirl at night.

It hasn’t been a problem at this school yet, but it always seems to pop up at the most inconvenient times. Eventually, a dad catches whiff of it, their wife gets jealous and you’re quietly let go. This is your third school in four years and you really don't want there to be a fourth. 

That’s why you dread running into parents who come to pick up their kids.

You catch this all-telling gaze of a redheaded man from across your classroom. He’s helping Lian with the cupcakes she’d brought in for her birthday today and you quickly adjust your glasses, hoping he won’t recognize you.

The hope is in vain.

Your smile is strained as he makes his way over to you with his little girl and leftover cupcakes in tow. His gate is too assured, his eyes too jovial. So, you do what you do best: ignore the parents. 

You bend down to Lian’s level to help her remove the cupcake wrapper from the red cupcake her dad’s given her. “Did you have a good birthday in class today, Lian?” you ask. The little girl nods excitedly, chomping into the dessert with gusto. “Do you have any fun plans for tonight?”

Your question is obviously for Lian, but it’s her dad who responds, “Do you?” 

You clear your throat, standing from your squat as you face the redheaded man. This isn’t the first time you’ve been hit on, but it always throws you off guard when it happens.

You shut him down easily, “Grading Lian’s test from today. Isn’t that right?”

Her pigtails bounce up and down. “It was about the different types of clouds in the ‘mosphere.”

“Atmosphere,” you correct her with an amused smile.

Much to your chagrin, he continues on like you haven’t rejected him. “You look like someone I know,” he trails off as if trying to place your face.

Mr. Harper- Roy, you correct yourself, looks to be in his mid-30’s. He has a decent amount of stubble, crows feet grace the corners of his verdant eyes and his hair looks like it used to be a brighter orange than the faded strawberry color it is now. He’s exactly the type of audience you cater to on your porn channel.

“A person you know of,” you repeat his words with a disinterested drawl. You wish the conversation would resolve itself or just fucking end. This beating around the bush shit isn’t for you. “Odd phrasing, but alright.” You need to change the subject and quick. “I’ll be seeing you at the open house next week, right?”

“Wouldn’t miss it, babe.” 

You barely contain your eyeroll as you correct him on your name. “It’s Miss,” you tell him your last name again sternly.

“You’re killing me, Miss,” he says your last name, obeying your correction. 

“Tragic, I’m sure. Anyway,” you continue on unphased as you focus on saying goodbye to Lian.

He finally moves out of your classroom but lingers in the doorway. “Have you… Were you ever a librarian?” he asks suddenly.

Don’t reveal anything. Don’t reveal anything.

You calm your breathing. It’s too pointed of a question for him to not know the video that made you famous: a librarian who gets bent over any and every surface in the library.

“I’ll see you next week, Mr. Harper,” is all you respond.

You’re fucked.

➸💋➸

The Sunday before the parent teacher conference, you’re scheduled to stream. 

All your content except one video, the one of you as a librarian, is solo streams and uploads, which makes it easy for you to make content and stick to a schedule. The one production video you did required a lot of coordinating and planning in advance. It ended up being a total hassle and, in the end, the money was about the same. That’s why you like your streams. You’re able to wear what you want, use whatever toys you want and you get to pick the location. 

The library closest to you is always deserted, especially so on the second floor where the old Fax Machines are stored. The second floor holds records, old newspapers and magazines as well as a smaller collection of nonfiction. Total snoozefest for some, but the perfect public filming spot for you. 

The nonfiction section is a separate room from the rest of the second floor and is hidden behind the shelf of vintage magazines. You’ve filmed in here a few times before, but never streamed. This is why you’ve chosen to come in around two hours before they close to eliminate as many opportunities as possible for someone to catch a peak.

You’re giddy as you wave to the librarian who always seems to be behind the counter as you make your way up to your favorite spot. You’re wearing a cotton, white wrap dress, no bra, red thong and heels. The light material shows off everything. Coupled with your signature glasses, you look irresistible.

There’s one desk inside the room, right in the middle that you quickly shove out of the doorway view. The heavy desk is the bane of your existence, especially in your fucking heels, but this way no one can see you unless they literally walk into the room. It’s not fool-proof, but it’s what you’re working with.

Always punctual, you start your stream right on time. 

avid_reader began stream 

Slowly, viewers trickle in as butterflies stir in your stomach. No matter how many times you stream, you always feel a rush of anxiety as soon as you click ‘Start.’ 

Private streams are a whole different ballgame. 

Though you do offer it, you charge a steep price for private cams. So far, only your top fan has been able to meet that price more than once. The dude isn’t a creep, nor did he have any kinks you weren’t comfortable with and hell, the dude was pretty funny, too. Out of all the fans to get you in private, you’re glad he’s the only reoccurring one. 

From his requests, you can definitely tell he’s an ass man. You also know that he likes when you wear clothes like you are today: inconspicuous yet revealing. Though he’d never say no to your lingerie, he always preferred tight fitting, see-through tops and short skirts more so than babydolls and matching sets.

Before you get too into everything, you tease the camera you’ve set up on the desk with your nipples that poke through the fabric. You adjust your glasses that fall down the bridge of your nose as you do so, earning you your first tip of the night. 

You like to wait for your top fan to join, or at least give him a chance to, but you don’t have to wait too long before his name pops up.

inmyarsenal: this is gona b gud 

Though his typing is horrendous, it easily brings a smile to your face, something he notices and tips generously for. 

It’s going to be a good night.

You reach your first goal and slowly draw your tits out of your dress out into the open. Your nipples are already perky as you grasp your hands around them and squeeze. Your nipples poke through your fingers as you jiggle your grip around your breasts 

inmyarsenal: someone’s gonna walk in on you babe

You bite your lip, looking toward the empty doorway. “I’ve been lucky thus far.”

inmyarsenal: i want t walk in on u baby. sO good for me

He sends another tip, completing your next goal all on his own. 

“Eager today, aren’t we?”

Your stomach flips, knowing what comes next. You shoot another worrying gaze toward the doorway before scooting the chair back a bit from the desk so the camera can see down to your knees as you spread them. Your red thong is on full display for your thousands of viewers.

You pull up on the fabric, leaving the thong to disappear into your pussy lips as you do. You tease a bit longer like this before finally pulling the fabric away and exposing yourself fully. 

You spend a few minutes slowly rubbing your cunt until you feel wet enough for what comes next. You tease the egg vibrator against your entrance, noting how the tips come in what seems like every second now. Within a minute, you reach your next chat goal- this one allows the tippers in the chat to set the speed of your vibrator. The more they tip, the longer they get control over it.

You slip the egg inside of you with a breathy moan. You use the silicone string that hangs out to continue to make the vibrator bob in and out of your hole, moving the camera to offer an up-close view of it.

No one in the chat gets a chance to call dibs before your top fan swoops in with a tip big enough to control the remote for over 15 minutes. You both know that you won’t last that long with him on the controls.

He starts off strong tonight, easing you into it for only so long before he ups the ante. Your settings on the app allow your viewers to control the tempo with their own vibration patterns that they create, meaning every single sinful vibration is caused personally by him. It makes it that much better. 

Today, however, it’s like he has a personal vendetta against you or something. The way he’s controlling your vibrator, he clearly wants you to leave the library with a squirt stain on your dress. Hell, he’d probably tip extra just for you to film your walk of shame, too, the fucking sadist. 

“Fuck,” you hiss. You can’t hold back your moans any longer, not caring how loud you’re being when it feels this good. 

One hand teases your nipples and squeezes your tits while the other rubs desperately at your clit. Your legs are spread over each side of your chair at this point, though they’re not much support when they’re shaking this hard. 

You’re about to come when you notice him out of the corner of your eyes.

“Shit!” 

He’s not the ugliest person to orgasm to, that’s for sure. The man, however, is someone you fucking know.

ABORT! ABORT!

If anything, your top fan seems to pick up that someone’s walked in on you and uses the last few seconds of his control to push the vibrator to its limit. Your hips fly from the chair, arching as you orgasm with a pathetic whine.

You end your stream, shaking and panting, while your come-hazed mind struggles to address the Wayne ward in front of you.

“I’m so fucking sorry,” you rush, trying to regulate your breathing.

You’ve already covered yourself up with your dress, but your thong is around your ankles and there’s no nonchalant way to fix it. That, and the large wet stain that now adorns the lower half of your dress from the front and the back.

Luckily, as soon as you ended the stream, your vibrator ceased, though it still remains inside of you.

“We’ve met before, haven’t we?” the man asks casually, like you haven’t just squirted in the public library’s nonfiction section.

You’re at a loss of what to say, what to do, let alone where to put your come-dripping hands as you stare wide-eyed at the gorgeous man in front of you.

Normally, you’d think it was a pick up line, but no, you have met before. Many times. 

Your mother had been Bruce Wayne's elementary school teacher. Each year, you were invited with her to the annual Wayne Gala. Even after her passing years ago, the invitation still came, now addressed to you. Throughout the years of attending, you’ve met him a couple of times, but never much past the standard ��how are you’ and never memorable enough to even remember his name.

This is a lot more than a “how are you.”

“I don’t really know how to answer that right now,” you admit slightly breathlessly.

Surprisingly, he snorts, “I can grab some towels from the bathroom for you.”

You just nod dumbly, half planning to escape the second he turns his back, half wanting to stick around and see how this all plays out.

While he’s gone, you pull off your thong and shove it in your bag along with the vibrator you pluck out.

Moments later, he returns with what seems like the entire roll of paper towels. He hands them to you, eyes never leaving your face before moving out to roam about in the room over.

You try to hurry up, wiping yourself down and packing up your shit at record speed. You walk into the other room sheepishly, paper towels still scrunched up in your hands as you meet his quirked brow and blank face.

"Thanks," you say, hoping he won't bring it up.

Luckily, he doesn’t.

“So,” he draws out the word. You’re honestly surprised he hasn’t left at this point. “You like nonfiction?” 

You burst out laughing, something he appreciates with a small smirk as he turns over a title in his calloused hands. “I just like that it’s private up here,” you tell him your actual favorite genre before asking what’s been on your mind. “You’re Dick, right?” Out of all the Wayne ward’s names, this is the only one that springs to mind.

He huffs, putting the book back on the shelf, “Fuck no.”

“Sorry,” you hesitate. Should you just leave him alone and flee with whatever little dignity you have remaining? 

“I didn’t mean it like that,” he sounds apologetic. “It’s Jason.”

That name does sound familiar.

“Jason,” you repeat out loud without meaning to, something he notes with a small smile.

“That’s the one,” he drawls with a deep, gravelly voice. Most normal people would respond with their own name, however you just sit there in your squirt covered dress as he flits into the nonfiction room you’d just been in. Oddly enough, he asks, “Can’t really recall your name either, if I'm being honest, kid.”

“‘M not a kid,” you mumble in embarrassment, holding your laptop case against your wet spot. You’re 25, for fuck’s sake. 

“Probably a good thing considering what I just saw,” he jokes lightly, though his attention appears to be on the books in front of him. You can tell his gaze is slightly unfocused, though.

You tell him your name as you make to leave. “Maybe I’ll catch you around,” you say.

His emerald eyes finally lock onto yours again. “Maybe you will.”

➸💋➸

At the open house the next day, all the dads stare at you, while the moms resort to glaring at you.

It’s what you’re used to.

You’re hot as fuck, it’s why you do porn. It’s why men like Mr. Harper think you have a familiar face.

Speaking of, the man’s been well-behaved for the most part. Aside from his lingering verdant gaze, he remains in the back of the room with crossed arms as he leans back in Lian’s chair. 

The button-up you’re wearing shows off your lofty cleavage and tucks nicely into your skintight pencil skirt. To someone like Roy, you assume you look like a walking wet dream. Your hair’s up in a bun and your signature glasses as your red heels clack along the laminate floors.

You go over your plans for the remaining half of the year as well as the project and letter the kids had created for the open house. It’s an hour-long event with time left for questions after, meaning you’re fucking drained by the time you’re ushering the last of the parents out the door. Surprisingly, Mr. Harper doesn’t linger, nor does he actually say anything to you. It’s entirely odd, but you’re not complaining.

You need a fucking drink.

You didn’t plan to go to a club. It’s totally not your scene. Somehow, tonight, it feels right. 

It’s a seedy place, but the drinks are strong and cheap and it’s exactly what you need after a long day like this one. You’re still in your teaching attire as you settle into the practically empty bar. Monday nights and clubs don’t exactly mesh well, meaning it’s close to dead, but that’s fine with you. You’re just here for a few drinks, then maybe treating yourself to some Chinese food.

You let your hair down, shaking it out as the lanky bartender comes over to take your order.

There’s a man across the bar from you. His face is obstructed by a red hoodie as he asks the bartender for something. If you tilt your head just right, you're able to get a better look at the white tuft of hair hanging prominently in front of his eyes. It kind of reminds you of Jason…

It’s as if he feels your curious gaze on him because his sharp one flickers your way. 

Dark green eyes meet your wide ones.

It is Jason.

Do you make the first move, or does-

Before you can finish your mental question, he raises a questioning brow your way as if asking for an invitation to come closer. You grant it, moving your purse over so he can sit.

“Hey,” you say as his hulking form sits down beside you.

“Not feeling nonfiction tonight?” He gestures down to the book you’d been reading before he approached.

"I-" You blush, hating how easily he has a hold over you.

Though you’d only planned to stay for a drink, you order another just to keep the conversation going. The two of you talk about everything and anything. The one topic the two of you keep coming back to is books and he doesn’t exactly let you off the hook for the library.

“Don’t think I’ll ever view that section the same way again,” he admits, taking a coy sip of his whiskey.

“I really am sorry,” you apologize genuinely. “I didn’t know anyone even used that section and I-" you start to ramble, but he gently cuts you off.

“Trust me, I didn’t mind.” You watch as he downs the last of his drink and signs his tab. “You want to get out of here?” he asks suddenly.

You blush even harder. The liquor settling into your system warmly surely doesn’t help any, nor the heat behind his half-lidded eyes.

“I don’t know if I can wait that long,” you breathe, biting lightly at your lower lip. 

“You do like public places, don’t you?”

You snort, covering your face in embarrassment, but he won’t allow it. He removes your hands from gentle, placing gentle kisses to each.

“I do,” you agree with a light smile.

“There’s an alley out that door,” he offers in a gravelly voice.

It’s all he has to say to get you up and out of your seat, following behind his muscular form.

His thumb draws light circles against your hand as he holds open the door for you to leave through first. “Shit,” he says suddenly. “You left your purse.”

You look behind you and notice that, yes, your dumbass left it on the seat next to you. Without another word, he leaves you to grab it.

You still have your phone on you and use the camera app to check over your makeup and hair as you wait in the alley for him. You hear a random noise from the rooftops but think little of it as the hooded man sneaks up behind you. His large hands caress you from behind as he pulls you backward against his strong chest.

“Can I touch you?” he asks darkly.

Your breath sputters, wanting nothing more, “Jason.”

His hands slip even lower on your torso, applying gentle pressure as he reaches your lower stomach. “What kind of panties are you wearing?” You can’t help but snort. He must’ve liked the red thong because you feel his dick stir to life when you mention much of the same. “Shit,” he groans when he shifts up your dress.

He runs his fingers along the fold of where your thighs meet your pussy as if to check if you’re telling him the truth.

You hear more clattering from above but can hardly focus on it when Jason turns you around to face him. It happens so fast that your mind’s still reeling from the action as he backs you against the brick wall of the club to finally slip a finger inside your thong.

“Fuck!” you exclaim. You can’t help but buck against his calloused index finger as his body molds against yours.

His lips capture yours in an instant with an intensity that leaves you crying out with want. It’s muffled against his lips as he holds your hands above your head with only one hand while the other focuses on working through your already slick folds. He refuses to touch your clit, which leaves you mewling and struggling against his hold.

It feels so fucking good.

All of a sudden, there’s a loud thump that forces Jason to startle slightly away from your gasping form.

“Ma’am,” out of nowhere, a gruff voice startles the two of you, “are you alright?”

Before you can respond, words are already out of Jason’s mouth. “Arsenal?” Jason asks, sounding entirely confused. 

Your head untucks from Jason’s sweaty neck to see a random-ass dude in a costume staring at the two of you. Your mouth is wide as you take in the new form in front of you. Your eyes trickle lower on his red uniform to where it protrudes out around his crotch.

Apparently, Jason’s seen enough. His hand shifts slightly as he moves and you can’t stop the light breath it draws from you. 

The costumed man visibly takes in the man’s face as if it’s familiar.

“I thought she was in trouble,” he trails off as he realizes that everything going on here is completely consensual.

They stare each other down for a few more seconds before Jason lulls you back in.

Instead of stopping, Jason’s fingers soon begin again and you resort to hiding your face against his neck as you allow it. He notices the man’s continued presence and smirks down at you. “Are you good with this?” he asks.

You nod, moaning loudly when he rewards you with another curl of his thick finger. You definitely aren’t used to doing this shit for free, let alone for a live audience, so you feel a bit shy. The shyness only lasts for so long before you suddenly grow bolder, throwing your head back erotically as Jason brushes against your g-spot.

Jason nips at your neck, leaving bites and bruises in his wake, but your half-lidded eyes are focused on the masked man in front of you. He’s yet to move, let alone breathe, it seems.

You can't deny that he’s ripped, nor that his muscular arms are doing things to you.

He’s hot.

“I don’t care if you touch yourself.” The words are out of your mouth before you even realize it. 

It’s as if the floodgates have opened as the vigilante begins palming himself through his suit. His movements are erratic and sloppy, as if he’s never touched himself before, though you suppose he’s never run into a camgirl in an alley before, not that he even knows.

You don’t even have to try to put on a show, Jason’s really that fucking good. Every moan, every writhe of your body and every shaky word you beg are all real reactions to his skillful hand. 

Jason’s hand picks up speed as you draw nearer. His lips catch deliciously against your own as he coaxes your tongue lewdly with his. “There we go,” he encourages you, leaving you to whimper, then cry out as his fingers squelch in and out of your slick cunt. “Just like that,” he says. With Jason and the other man’s eyes attached to your pathetic form, you come, nearly crumbling to the ground as you do. Luckily, Jason’s strong arms catch you with a small laugh, “You alright?”

It’s your turn to laugh, “Fucking amazing.” You bite at the corner of your bottom lip, eyeing the obvious strain in his jeans. “Would you want me to-?”

“Fuck yeah,” he breathes out, pulling you in for a deep kiss. You tantalizingly pull your hair up, something you did in your infamous scene.

Both men watch with slackened jaws as you squat down and unzip his jeans. His clothed cock tents out from the opening of the zipper and you waste no time in sucking at the head through his boxers. Once the fabric is thoroughly soaked through, you pull him out to fully admire his member.

You bite playfully at your lip, staring Jason in the eyes as you spit on his bobbing cock before slowly taking his length down your throat. When you reach the hilt, you moan, feeling the vibrations of it settle across his skin, “Mm.”

“Shit,” he groans and his arms shoot out on the brick wall behind you as if to control himself from fucking into your mouth. “Done this before, babe?” he teases you, though his eyes are completely dark with lust. 

“A time or two,” you jest back with an impish smile. Your glasses have completely ridden down to the tip of your nose at this point, something he notices and pushes back up with his thumb. 

The action causes a loud groan from the vigilante beside Jason, “Fuck, man.” He’s eagerly fisting his cock at this point, eyes never once leaving you.

“Want to taste her come?” Jason offers him

The moan the other man produces sounds pained, desperate, as he latches onto Jason’s calloused fingers coated with your slick.

You suck more eagerly, watching the whole interaction with fascination. You’ve never done something like this before, but you don’t think you’d mind doing it again.

“You taste so good,” the other man mumbles. You have no choice but to blush around Jason’s thick length, deepthroating him until tears spill from your eyes. “So good,” he mumbles again, completely lost in you.

You swap between teasing and deepthroating until you can tell he can’t take it any longer and attempt to finish him off with one of your signature moves.

“Fuck, I’m gonna-" Jason caresses the back of your head as he empties out into your mouth. He pulls out and splatters the remnants of his come across your lashes. 

You blink heavily, turning to the other man as an invitation. “Not sucking your dick, but you can come on my tits,” you say to him.

“Fair enough,” he mumbles, completely distracted as you pull your tits out of your bra.

Your tongue pokes out to taste Jason’s come on your face while your hands squeeze at your tits like you had on stream. Poor dude doesn’t last another 20 seconds before his hot come splatters across your chest with the rest of his load drizzling down into your bra like a claim.

Definitely have to wash that when you get home.

Both men help you stand, though the vigilante takes off soon after zipping his pants. Jason, however, sticks around to walk you to your car, sending you off with his phone number.

When you get home, you barely have time to reflect on what the fuck had gone down in the alley when your laptop chirps oddly. You set down your purse on your kitchen island as you traverse over to your desk. Upon opening it, you find your channel pulled up and see inmyarsenal has left you a $200 tip. 

You shake your head quizzically, eyebrows furrowing as you search to see if it’s been a mistake, considering you haven’t streamed since the library. You go to refund it to him only to see the note he’s left with it:

inmyarsenal: have to stop coming by your streams. tAke this as compensation- no refunds :)

A/N: I've been waiiiiting on finishing this fic since last april!!! not super edited if i'm being honest

if you'd like to send me nice things in my ask box, it would make my day :,)

[next] || ao3 || pinned || my ko-fi / tip jar

[cheriemariii]

see if i had been the one to write romantica and terrorist i definitely would have definitely aged up shinobu and misaki. And its not just that i find it icky to have grown ass men dating these barely legal boys (i mean yeah it kinda is the main reason,,) but because i genuinely feel it would add more to both their characters???

(whatever my take is under the cut 👍)

Just like the original, lets say Misaki makes it out of high school at 18, as any normal teenager would. Takahiro offers to get him a tutor for his college entrance exams, but he refuses: he wants to do it on his own (bc when doesnt he🙄).

So he tries to make it into college and fails; but thats ok, not everyone makes it on their first try, he can always try again. A year later he is 19, he tries again, and he fails again,, but he did a little better than the last time! He just has to keep trying, maybe third time will be the charm? So another year passes, he is 20 now, he tries again,, and fails again.

At this point Misaki is starting to lose it. To be entirely honest, he doesn’t even care that much about college. He is not passionate about anything in particular, so he would have no issue just finding a job in whatever and figuring it out from there. Thats what his brother did after all, and he turned out great!

His brother… wasnt Takahiro why Misaki wanted to make it into Mitsuhashi in the first place? He has done so much for him these past years, he owes him this much. But no matter how hard he tries to memorize or what study technique he attempts, he just cant do it. And this process isnt so easy for Takahiro either: he hates nothing more in this world than to see his little brother so helpless.

At some point after the third failed attempt, Takahiro brings up again the possibility of getting a tutor. So far, Misaki had been denying it because it’s his nature to not want to be a burden to anyone else, and he wanted to prove that he was capable of doing this on his own. But the fact that not only he is not making his brother proud (or so he thinks), but that he is actively burdening Takahiro by letting him see him so distressed, is finally enough to shatter Misaki’s pride.

Now, given the urgency of the situation, Takahiro cant afford having Misaki test the waters with any stranger, so he decides to put his trust on the smartest person he knows. And that is how Misaki Takahashi, age 20, accepts the help of prolific writer Usami Akihiko out of desperation and makes it into college :)

From here on the story runs its course normally (a couple other changes here and there, but thatd be another day’s yap). I also like the effect it would have on Misaki’s psyche to feel so behind his classmates. He made it into college at 21, an age where other people are starting to think about graduation; and there is nothing wrong with this, but Misaki is not gonna see it this way; he is definitely gonna think this makes him not enough (and comparing himself with everything Takahiro had to achieve at 18 in order for them to survive, and maybe also having Fuyuhiko throw this to his face at any given opportunity bc ofc he would definitely wouldn’t help :/).

Now Shinobu. In this scenario he would be making it out of high school (18) when he first interacts with Miyagi and finds out he is gonna marry his sister and it breaks his heart and all that jazz. And so out of spite he moves to Australia to study college there.

A few years pass by and he has just turned 21. He is about to enter his fifth semester of uni, has had amazing grades and even got himself a nice job in the Japanese embassy in Australia (iirc he studies law???); so far it's just to assist on minor administrative matters, but by the look of it he might actually escalate to a more important spot sooner or later! So life is very much smiling at Shinobu until,, oh! Guess who just got divorced!!!

Now, any normal rational adult would've not given this too much mind; but if the canon supports me on anything it's on the fact that Shinobu is not a normal rational adult. He never really made it past his crush on Miyagi, but at the time he let it go, aside from the obvious, bc he knew he wasn't fit for Miyagi just yet. But now he is an adult by any stance of the law, and he had done so much with his life, and Miyagi is available now so,, what exactly would be stopping them?

And so he does the last thing a normal rational adult would've done: he makes it back to Japan, makes his attack on Miyagi, and the plot goes on as it would (you can even keep a reinterpreted version of Shinobu's college entrance exams from the original!!! He is gonna have to find a way to continue with his studies after all,,). I like to think, in a way, this shows just how much was Shinobu willing to sacrifice in order to follow this so called destiny; he practically had his life figured out in Australia, and yet that silly little feeling turned out to be stronger.

I also feel maturity would become a really major theme in this version of terrorist. Like Shinobu thinks he is apt for Miyagi now bc he is legally an adult, so he SHOULD have the maturity it takes to be with him (which could also translate to Shinobu trying to rush himself into ~certain~ things in order to prove himself worthy to Miyagi). But maturity doesn't work that way; it's not about how old you are but how much have you lived, and at the end it will turn out not even Miyagi is mature enough to have a relationship like this. But that's ok, because now they can grow together into being apt for each other :)

And ALSO!!!!! this doent even have to cancel the whole reincarnation theory (Miyagi's teacher reincarnating into Shinobu as her death and his birth would happen very closely to each other), or the fact that Shinobu mirrors young Miyagi. My issue with terrorist was never the age gap in itself (that's kinda what makes the story interesting xdxd), so what the fuck. Make Miyagi have his crush on his teacher at 21,, keep him twice Shinobu's age,, make Miyagi (42) truly deserve the old man title (not really but y'know) !!!!!!

.

.

.

(also this is all bull this whole thing is part of my yuri au where they are all women, and I myself am 20, so in a way having misaki and shinobu so close in age to me allows me to use usamisa and miyanobu (and also yukisa) as scapegoats for my own fixation for older women 😋)

[kooksvspogues]

Good Outcomes Maybe?

Part 1

JJMaybank x BlakelyRoutledge

Authors note: Feedback is always greatly appreciated! Thanks to each and every one of you for all your support you’ve given me. Love you guys! 💗

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Since John B and JJ have been inseparable since third grade, I basically grew up having two brothers that gave me a hard time any chance they got but gave hell to anybody else that tried. Having both of them around was both a blessing and a curse at times, but they did keep life interesting to say the least.

The whole gang was currently sitting around the porch of the chateau talking about the plan for the night. I had my legs swung over JJ’s lap while my head was in Kie’s.

“I don’t understand why we don’t just go to the beach party tonight” I say

“Because not all of them like us like they like you, remind me again, how did you pull that off?” John B asked

“I don’t know, I just don’t give in to the whole pogues vs kooks thing. We’re all people, have respect” I defend

“It’s cause your sisters hot, bro” JJ says taking a chug from his beer as John B sends him a death glare making all of us laugh

“And I’m not?” John B asks trying to pose sexy

“Oh yeah, the sexiest mother fucker on the island” JJ sarcastically agrees

“J, that’s you, remember?” I tease sarcastically sitting up and placing my hand on his arm sweetly, winking at him, as he places his hand on my leg looking at me in a sarcastic awe

“I hate when y’all do that” John B says acting like he’s gonna puke

“And that’s exactly why we do it” I tease as he rolls his eyes

“I hate you” John B says

“So beach party?” I ask looking around the group

“I’m always down for some pogue vs kook action” JJ says as I swat at his arm giving him a warning glare

“One hint of something sketchy, we’re leaving” John B says

“Where’s Sarah anyways?” Kie asks

“Should be here any minute” He says smiling at us

“Can you remind me again why I can’t date a kook since you are?” I ask cocking an eyebrow at John B

“Um because you have me first off” JJ cuts in

“Shut up J, and because, I don’t need you dating somebody like Rafe, Topper, Kelce, or any of those scumbags, find a decent one and we’ll talk” John B says

“Rafe is temping, not gonna lie” I admit

“Blakely, what the fuck, I’m gonna pretend you didn’t say that, that dude is fucking insane” Kie asks looking at me

“I’m jokinnnn, but you know he’s gotta be kinky” I joke making everyone groan

“I got all the kinkiness you need, right here” JJ jokes reaching over and squeezing my thigh making John B’s eyes bug out

“On that note, I’m out” Pope says walking into the house

“Dude, chill, that’s my sister” John B threatens coming over to slap his hand away making me and JJ laugh

“He hates us” I say laughing leaning my head on JJ’s shoulder

“So much” he chuckles taking another sip

That’s the relationship JJ and I have had for a few years now, I guess we found out we could flirt and be lovey dovey enough with each other to get by and not need a hookup, that we just ran with it. Plus, it’s great when trying to aggravate John B, cause he knows it’s all jokes regardless. Don’t get me wrong, JJ is amazing, would totally go for him but I don’t think that would go over too well. Sometimes I wonder if all the joking is completely jokes or if there is some seriousness on both ends. No line is ever really crossed cause we just laugh it all off, I mean cause obviously it wouldn’t work, especially with the no pogue on pogue macking rule, except for a few games we’ve played, and the fact that it would be John B’s sister and best friend.

“Hey guys” Sarah says walking up the steps

“Hey babe” John B says walking over to her giving her a kiss

“So what are we doing tonight?” She asks

“Beaaaach party!” I yell reaching over to pull the joint away from JJ’s lips and in between mine, keeping eye contact with him as he breaths out. “Dont look at me like that Maybank” I warn

“Or what princess?” he says sitting up and leaning closer to me

“Jay, what the fuck” John B says making me and JJ laugh and John B reaches over and pulls me off the couch and pushes me towards the door, “go!” He tells me making me laugh but JJ starts to stand up, “you sit!” John B tells him

“Johnny, she’s got my joint, that shit wasn’t cheap” JJ says as I turn around, sticking my tongue out at him, running inside when he starts coming after me before John B stops him as I laugh behind the screen door.

~~~~~~ beach party ~~~~~~

When we get to the party, I immediately make my ways towards the free booze, and of course bumping into the kook king along the way.

“Hey, there’s my favorite little pogue princess” Rafe says pulling me into his arms

“Hey Rafe” I say pulling away, “how are you?”

“I’ve been good, taking over the family business, how are you, your little gang here?” He ask taking a sip of his drink looking around.

“Yeah, they’re somewhere, and I’m good, just wanting to get a drink” I inform him

“Come here, I’ll give ya the good shit” he says pulling me over to a fire where Barry was sitting with a few other people.

“Country club and pogue princess, what a mix” Barry says giving me a wink

“Fix her up man, on me” Rafe tells him keeping his hand on my back, “what ya want?”

“I thought we were getting alcohol” I laugh

“He’s got some heavier alcohol with him, but he’s got the normal too” Rafe smiles

“I’ll take some weed annnd ya got some tequila and whiskey?” I ask Barry

“Ice cold” Barry smiles at me pulling the bottle out of his ice chest along with a little baggy of weed.

“Thanks Barry” I smile up at him

“Welcome princess” he says as me and Rafe walk back towards a tree that had fell, sitting on it.

“You know, I really don’t understand why you still hang out with all of the pogues, we all love having you on this side of the island” Rafe says

“We’ve talked about this” I tell him pulling the cap off the bottle of whiskey taking a swig

“I know, but I’m serious, you fit in here, your the only pogue I actually care about” Rafe admits

“Well thanks but, the cut will always be home. Maybe one day, you’ll decide to be patient with all of us and not just me” I say

“I wouldn’t count on it princess” he says

“Yeah yeah” I laugh, “do I owe you anything for this?” I ask

“I’ll take a kiss as payment” he smirks, looking up at me.

“You’re ridiculous” I laugh

“You like it” he winks

“You wish, come here asshole” I laugh pulling him towards me, kissing his lips. Rafe placed his hand on the side of my neck to not only keep me in place, but to make the kiss deeper as I felt his tongue run across my bottom lip asking for entrance. I pat his chest and pull away.

“When you wanna give one of us men a chance, let me know” he winks as I playfully push his chest

“One of us men as in what? A kook?” I ask

“Well yes ma’am, let somebody spoil you” he smiles

“Awe” I say walking over to stand between his legs, running my hand over his buzzed head, “maybe if you weren’t a killer, I would, but like you said, I wouldn’t count on it” I say tapping his cheek walking away backwards watching as his eyes darkened on me

“Sometimes I really hate you” he yells over at me

“Hey, this is progress, you’re not running after me, I’m proud!” I say loud enough only he can hear me.

“Go on you little shit head” he says laughing making me laugh

“Hope to see you never, country club” I smile raising the two bottles of alcohol towards him before turning around and trying to find the pogues.

When I found everybody, I handed them the bottles, trying to find JJ, “wheres Jay?” I ask Kie

“Last I seen, he went over that way” she says pointing towards the trees, that were close by where me and Rafe were.

I eased my way over there and went to looking for him, I heard a quiet moan before I finally seen him. Pushing some blonde girl up against the tree, kissing her.

I felt my heart drop and shatter into a million pieces.. why do I feel like this? We’re just friends so why do I feel like I need to throw up right now. I feel my heart pound against my chest and everything just felt numb besides the pounding and the nausea. I turn around and run towards the ocean, immediately throwing up.

“You good princess?” I look up to see Barry walking over

“Yeah” I claim, mainly for myself than him.

“Cmon, I got some water” he says urging me to john him at his little fire which I quickly agree, going to sit on the log he was previously sitting on, waiting as he pulled the bottled water out of the ice chest handing it to me.

“Thank you” I mumble

“No problem” Barry says, “need me to grab country club?” He asks

“Can you find Kie or Sarah?” I plead and he nods standing up and walking off. I eventually see Sarah and Kie walking towards me quickly.

“You okay babe?” Sarah asks

“Yeah, I just think I’m ready to go home” I say

“You sure? You’re the main reason we came” Kie says

“Yea, I’m sorry”

“No no it’s okay, I just wanna make sure nothing happened, not like you to leave a party early” She said rubbing my back.

“First time for everything I guess” I chuckle glancing up, seeing JJ and the blonde girl coming back to the party.

“You want us to go with you?” Sarah asks

“No, y’all stay, have fun, I see a few people heading out, I’ll catch a ride with them” I say knowing I just planned on walking

“You sure?” They ask and I smile up at them nodding

“Positive, I’ll text you when I get home” I assure them as we all stand up, them walking back towards where the boys were and me heading towards the street. As I get closer to where all the cars are parked, I come to a stop when I hear my name being yelled. I turn around and find Rafe walking towards me

“You okay? Barry said he seen you throwing up” he says

“Yeah, just ready to go home” I answer

“The pogues not going with you?” He asks

“No, I told them to stay” I say

“How are you getting home?” He asks

“My feet” I answer

“Alright smartass” he laughs, “I was about to head out anyways, just let me take you home” he says

“I couldn’t ask you to do that” I say

“You’re not asking, I’m offering, I’d much rather know you were home safe and not still on the road” he says urging me forward to walk towards his truck

“Are you sure you don’t mind?” I ask

“I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t want to” he says as I roll my eyes

“Okay, but no funny business Cameron” I say pointing at him walking towards his truck.

“Yes ma’am, no funny business” he says going to open the passenger door for me waiting for me to climb in. When I look up, I can faintly make out JJ looking our way, when Rafe gets in the driver seat, I watch JJ shake his head and look down.

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[antlerqween27]

What is wrong with Misty Quigley? | playlist | ao3 | 2.5k words | rating: M |

By: timbert/antlerqween27

Summary:

The first time Misty catches herself watching Natalie she is only very young.

Do they feel your anger and know?

Misty has alot of of favorite music and she loves birds. She has no friends but she likes to think about it. She liked it when she didn't really care to have friends and wasn't lonely and jealous.

The first time Misty caught herself staring at Natalie she was only very young. So most of what she was feeling was definitely jealousy. She thought she was very pretty though. Prettier than Misty. Prettier than most girls in their class. Most. Not really Jackie Taylor though. Not other girl in the school was. Not even some of the older girls. Some were prettier though, They were only in the third grade after all.

Jackie was friends with many but best with Nat and Shauna. They all lived next door to each other. Misty watched them in a way she didn't know was weird and off putting yet. She was filled with jealousy and want. She wanted to be their friend too. She wanted to live next door. She wanted Natalie to herself. How was it very fair Jackie had two best friends? I mean Shauna and Nat weren't best friends with each other, they got on, but they were best friends with Jackie individually. Misty didn't think there was anything wrong with that exactly or anything wrong with Jackie that made her undeserving.

She just didn't really fully get what was wrong or different with her. Other than her address of course. She only lived a few streets over and when she turned 9 or maybe double digits (her mom would decide when the time came) she would be able to walk by herself over there. She knew her mom didn't like the trio and wouldn't want her daughter seeing them. So she would do it when she Could be alone. Maybe with her older brother. He would take her and not say anything. Maybe Jackie had an older sister for him. Or brother. Misty is already kinda good at reading that kind of thing. Doesn't take much at 8 actually.

Still, how exactly is she so bad? Would the girls even like her next year? what? was? wrong? with? Misty?

She would ask dad. Mom wouldn't agree and would just try to reassure her. She needed dad.

Misty wandered upstairs and though she knew it was the time of day to keep away Misty She bravely ventured up the staircase. Big and wooded. She had her bed and playroom upstairs so why couldn't she go by herself anyway?

Misty got closer to her dad's worky room and strange feelings were picking up in Misty's chest and she was starting to feel moist over her body. Sweating, sweety. Misty exclusively heard her mommy's voice in her head.

Sweating. She was scared like when the lights get turned off and she's still wide awake. Sometimes her mom doesn't see that she's still awake and she leaves. Misty won't be a bother so she just sweat, sweat, sweat. Her chest goes Thunk, thunk, thunk. Mom hasn't taught her this feeling. New Things and especially new feelings are scary for Misty.

But she pushes on and opens her dad's door.

He looks surprised but isn't busy

“Hi, baby.” He smiles warmly at his daughter. She's not in trouble.

“Hi daddy.” Misty closed the door behind her and still feels pretty shy.

“What do you need?”

“Why am I different? What makes me weird? Why Am I like that?”

“Oh.. Misty…” her dad looks disappointed…. Oh no.

“I'm sorry.”

“No it's okay, Misty. You're not in trouble.”

“Okay.” Relief Immediately washes over her.

“You're right. You're weird Misty. I don't know why.”

At the time Misty was just grateful for the confirmation, but later she was quite hurt her Father thought that about her and possibly didn't even know why. Even at 8.

“Well okay. What exactly makes me weird?”

“Well, for one the way you talk Misty. Your strange interests. How easy you cry at odd things. I'm sorry honey” thankfully her dad did look quite apologetic.

“It's okay dad.” Misty was quiet.

She hated Birds. She hated her favorite music. Stupid weird Misty Q. She might hate herself and she's furious.

—

The next time Misty catches herself watching Nat is the year following. She is older and her mom thinks she can walk a few streets over only. Trusting her to make good friends. But she gets there and….

Natalie is moving out. and fast. Shauna and Jackie are holding each other, sobbing as they watch Nat move stuff out with her mother. Where's her dad?

Honestly Natalie looks annoyed and is rolling her eyes every few minutes…. Is she mad at her friends? Yes. Yes she is.

Today seemed to not be the day to join the trio. The trio didn't seem to have much longer of a life unfortunately. They were all nine now, but getting separated. Do they know if a few short days their worries and fears will completely divulge and change as Nat moves up through life? Nat is in fear now, but hiding it. Misty isn't able to do that but she guesses she can watch and see when someone else does. Nat does a lot.

Misty watches Nat because they are both the same and Misty thinks She's secretly one of the few that can really get what Nat is fearing and going through. Sadly enough.

Misty watches.

—

When Misty watches again they are in middle school. 8th to be exact. Now she knew staring was weird and creepy, got her called a Lezzie by certain girls. She was careful and normal now. Not how she was a few years back. She plays soccer now.

They are in AP language arts together. Nat is reading her writing aloud. She isn't embarrassed of it yet. Later in her teen years She becomes much more closed and protective of her writing, possibly because she became more serious and truthful to her own thoughts.

But now Misty watches as she reads out. Everyone does, but somehow Natalie doesn't even notice. Just lost in her own writing and thinking people's looks are just because they're good at listening. But it's mostly just her.

Nat fnishes and Misty stops herself from clapping. That's weird Misty.

“Misty, I think it's your turn, yes?” the teacher looks at her expectently

Oh god she only wrote about Natalie. A girl. Lesbian activities For sure.

“Okay…” Misty was quite she and quickly noticed Nat staring at her. Smirking. Was she making fun of her? In her head?

Nat looked down at something. Was there something on Misty's mouth? When nat looked back up and met her eyes she. Blushed? Maybe.

“Bleary eyed and smudged kohl.

Bright and loud and angry

many feel your anger, but Do they?

Do they feel your anger and know?

Waiting to speak

‘Is it better to speak or to die’

‘Til love gives in and speak’”

I repeat to myself thinking.

Scratchy and rough

Scarred insides and regular edges

I watch and I know how I am.

Do You?”

She is done and they probably all think she's a lesbian. So why not stare. She watches Natalie and somehow the other still seems stuck on the poem. On all those words. How whenever Misty said a quote or took a pause, her eyes would find their way right to Natalies. It was very strange but Nat thought. She didn't hate it and certainly didn't hate looking at Misty Quigley.

"Wow, what is that called Misty?"

"Uhh angry smudged eyes."

Misty and Nat are still watching.

“You like the emo boys, huh Quigley?” They break Eye contact and everyone laughs at Misty. This group may be immune to seeing anything Misty does seriously. Sad. That poem was really nice and Nat liked it. The Teacher wasn't paying attention and will probably follow whatever grade the class gives.

The bell rings.

Nat meets Misty after class and talks to her for the first time. Very sweetly.

“I really liked your poem, Misty. You didn't deserve that grade….” suddenly Natalie felt hot and nervous and watched By Misty. “Um.”

Oh my god Misty Quigley made Natalie Scatorccio blush. They both seemed to realize at the same time. Nat was So red and she never felt so embarrassed. Because of… Misty? And her pretty poem?

Abort! Abort! Abort!

Nat couldn't think and that scared the shit out of her, so she just ran. Ran away from Misty. She let her know her feelings so she didn't feel too guilty.

—

Misty watched Nat again during soccer. High-school. She was so good. Unlike Misty. After middle-school, Misty never made the team. She suspects not only was she bad, but unlike all the other girls; she never hit a growth spurt again after 8th grade.

So she just watched. And mostly Nat. She is very different now. Bleached hair. Tall. Even more beautiful. She's so good at soccer.

Misty was an assistant-assistant coach and felt Close to the assistant coach Ben. But that was just her. He mostly put up with her and lightly pitied her. She thinks she mostly wants to be close to him because he's Gay. What is it about soccer? Coach Martinez, are you next? Maybe she should ask him about her Nat-Watching. Gay, right coach? She laughed to herself.

But Natalie played beautifully and kicked and ran up gracefully, Misty could Watch for hours. But the mean girls kept asking her for things.. Over and over. They expected her to listen.

Which she did. Even if She didn't want to.

“Hey Quigley, can you fill our bottles? We're just really in the zone. Thanks.”

She did already have them in hand before they finished.

“Misty, no. They can do that themselves. Make Them.” Natalie almost came out of nowhere. It scares Misty, but she welcomed the quickened heartbeat.

“Well…” Misty began handing them over and the girls took them back reluctantly, almost fearful of Nat.

“They're your under classman, Quigley. Show them.” Nat was staring the girls straight in the eye. Unmoving. They were definitely scared.

“Please just show me some resect Next time. I'm happy to help out… Don't want to just stand around all day… You know....” Misty paused.

“Staring at Scatorccio?” it was the blonde underclassman.

“Uhh..” oh shit, caught. Misty coughed and frozen. “No it's just.”

The girls grinned and started heading to fill their water and Misty looked at Natalie, Who herself looked a little shocked.

“Bye, Nat.”

Misty ran away.

—

When Misty is next staring at Natalie she is scared shitless. Their plane is crashing all that's going through Misty's head is.

God, Nat is so pretty. I can't believe I haven't told her yet….

Because she does look pretty even with the plane crashing down, even when she's crying and scared. That look is one Misty wouldn't fully ever see again.

Nat does Not stare back i. And then everything turns dark.

When Misty is back in herself again the plane is crashed and coach Ben's leg is gone. She did that. Blood is on her face.

But she saved so many fucking people.

Misty Quigley is totally fucking awesome. She heard them say so.

—

Next time Misty fully and truly stares at Nat and sees her is the winter. She is so hungry. Looking at Natalie, she knows she is too. She's staring back. Eyes very intense and piercing. How does she see me? How can she? Why only her? She can read my mind, Misty thinks.

“We need to go hunting, Trav…” Nats Voice is horse. Quiet, but so loud in the silent cabin.

Misty was apparently hostile because she felt almost territorial over something that wasn't hers. Fuck. Off. Tavis. You are the bane of Misty Quaigleys whole entire existence.

“No more. All game is gone, Natalie….” he had said her pretty name with so much venom Misty almost let herself get angry. Misty would never. If she ever had the privilege she would say Natalie so sweetly and beautifully everytime. Because that's. What. She. Fucking. Deserves. Travis.

They need a feast. They are dying. All of them. Every. Single. One. Of. Them.

When Jackie dies Misty truly doesn't know what she's supposed Expect. Just another burial.

But it's different with Shauna to account for. Does she watch Jackie like Misty does Nat? Or did she more like. She hopes she never has to talk about her feelings for Nat in the past tense. Even when they are rotting she will still feel. It is so strong.

Shauna is with her in the shed for a few days.

Then they ate jackie.

they were so hungry. Okay?

—

Next time Misty watches Nat wholeheartedly is when they're hunting her. She felt so sad when she drew the card…. But she was so hungry. She wanted Nat and Something To eat for so long. Nat drew the card and Misty wanted to Rip her own insides Out and feed them to nat, just so she would have enough energy to fucking run.

But she didnt need it. There was no time anyway.

Misty hoped she found the energy herself.

And she did. And she was so good.

And Javi took Nats place.

And Misty was the first to rush foward and Shout

The wilderness has chosen.

Because maybe she wasn't hungry enough to eat her Natalie…

Maybe she was hungry enough to eat a kid.

Thank you and I'm sorry Javi. Thank for Saving Nat and us.

I'm sorry Travis.

And honest to God, I'm sorry Natalie. This act alone might kill a lot of her.

—

One of the times she watches Natalie Again is when she is telling the full truth. How she feels. How thankful she truly is for Javi.

And she tells Natalie about the transponder. Because She finally has to fucking tell someone. She murdered for it but she's willing to lose what she has for Natalie Scatorccio.

“Fuck you! Fuck you, Fuck you, Fuck you, Misty” it actually hurt lot even if she knew it was coming.

"I know, I know i know i know. Believe me, I wish i could undo it--

And she hits her.

And She just wants to be hit again. She really does deserve It again. And she wants it. Natalie Will never forgive her and will never. love. her .

Natalie isn't nice anymore.

Natalie doesn't defend Misty.

Natalie just watches Misty get taunted.

Natalie doesn't feel. Anything. There.

Natalie will never be her friend.

And suddenly Misty feel 8 years old again. She has lost Nat.... they are out six months later.

—

The last time Misty Watches Natalie is when she is watching the light leave her eyes. They are much older now and Natalies light is quickly leaking out. And Misty. Misty is confused how all of Natalies life force is just all over her shirt and hands.

Misty just wants that to stop. All of that. It's not. What was supposed to happen.

Oh Natalie.

She looks fine with Misty being the last thing she see before she dies.

But maybe that's just the drugs she's injected into her.

She's glad it's her that killed her. She's glad it didn't hurt and honestly she was glad Nat was on drugs. In hindsight at Least.

She watches as Natalie's body Is driven away in the ambulance and she never does again. She supposes.

How odd…

When she's gone too she hopes some of whatever worms eat Natalie eat her too.

End.

[seeingivy]

three days 

roommate eren x f!reader  

three years can feel like an eternity, if you let them

**find the mini-series masterlist here

content warning: eren being miserable, jean being annoying again, hitch being even worse 

an: ok I promise we return to regularly scheduled sweet boy eren after this (which is almost done being written) :00000

previous part linked here

-

Eren doesn’t sleep well. Some part of him was always flighty - twisting and turning every time he heard a noise, the fan whirring, the room creaking. He’d been like that, since he was a kid. 

His mom had mentioned that when she visited the nursery for the first time, right after he was born, that the only reason Zeke could point him out in the row of other boys was because he was rustling, struggling against his swaddle. 

The only thing that put him at ease? Kept him still through the night? You. When you would still sleep in his bed. 

The first night, after you so quickly mentioned that the two of you were a mistake, he couldn’t sleep. He could still smell you, your peach scent pressed against his pillows and his blankets. He runs his hand against his pillow cases, wishing you were here with him. 

The following morning, it took him thirty minutes to brace himself. To face you. He has to fight the urge - to touch you, press himself against you and kiss you full on the mouth. Like he should have, when you asked him to. 

He should have just done it. Maybe you’d still be here with him if he would have. Screw Zeke. All that shit about making a special moment, making your heart flutter. He should have just kissed you. 

When you were in the bathroom, getting ready. When you put his necklace on, when he lost you in the crowd, when he carried you at the concert, when you kissed his fucking cheek, when you asked him to. 

He braced himself. Deep breaths, grounding techniques. Just like Mikasa and Armin taught him. When he leaves the safe confines of his room, he finds that your key was off the hook and your sneakers were absent from the door. You left already. You’re avoiding him just as much as he’s avoiding you. 

You don’t return that night. He’s okay with it. He can’t see you. Not yet anyways. 

- 

It worries him, the second day. You still haven’t returned. He couldn’t have messed up that badly, could he? You couldn’t hate him this much, so much so that you wouldn’t come home. 

He marches over to the office, where Armin, Jean, and Annie are supposed to be. He’s hoping you’ll be there. That he’ll open the door and find you there, sprawled across the floor like you usually are.

But you’re not. Just Jean, Armin, and Annie - staring him down. 

“What’s wrong with you, Eren? Why are you…panting?” 

“Nothing, Annie. I just thought Y/N might be here.” 

“She’s out of town. Left a late notice yesterday morning for Victor.” 

“Oh. Okay.” 

“She didn’t tell you?” 

“No. Must have been in a rush. I didn’t even see her before she left.” 

Armin and Annie return to their work, Annie typing on her computer and Armin grading his papers.

“I saw her before she left.” 

Of course he did. 

“How did she seem, Jean?” 

“Well, a little bit earlier. She came to our apartment after she met Hitch.” 

Right. When you ran out, after he handed you the tulips. 

“Well, what did she say?” 

“Nothing much. Just asked me who she was, that’s all.” 

“And what did you say?” 

“Just the usual. That you guys pretended to see each other during soccer season, because of Marlowe.” 

“You didn’t tell her that I liked Hitch, right? That I’m with her or anything?” 

“No. Just that you guys are close during season because you spend time together and all.” 

There goes any hope of it being a misunderstanding. He doesn’t sleep that night either. Your scent on his pillows serves as a cruel reminder.  

- 

The third day, Hitch comes by. You’re still not back and he hates it. He’s had to throw the breakfast he made for you away twice, because he keeps forgetting you’re not here. 

“Are we still on?” 

“Yeah, Hitch. None of the other stuff, okay?” 

“Sure. Marlowe should be at the games and parties, so just then.” 

If he can’t be happy, someone should. He doesn’t mind it, holding Hitch’s hand here and there, slinging his arm around her shoulder to make Marlowe mad. To push the two of them together. He just wished it would do something to you, so you’d come running back to him too. 

The second she leaves, all he can think about is your absence. It’s all he thinks about anyways. He hates that it’s true. That distance makes the heart fonder. 

That’s all he wants to do. Just see you. He doesn’t care how you are - angry, pissed, detached from him. He just wants to see you, in your kitchen. He wants to hear you, singing in the shower, and watch you, sitting in the stands at his games. 

He just wants you back. In whichever way you’ll have him. 

He doesn’t sleep that third night either. Your peach smell is gone from his pillows already. He hates the passing of time. 

 - 

You return, in the dead of night. He’s sure of it. He can hear you out there, your tiny footsteps clinking the dishes into the sink. 

He nearly runs out the door, just to make sure you’re there. And you are, rinsing the dishes he left out. You’re back. 

He fights the urge. To run up to you, press you against his chest, to pepper soft kisses all over your face. 

“Y/N.” 

“Hey Eren.” 

God. Your voice. He didn’t realize that this was something he could miss - your voice, the stray hairs by your ears, the sound of your breathing. But here he is. Reveling at the sight of you. Doing the fucking dishes.  

He walks up, pressing his hands against your frame and leaning his head against your shoulders. He can smell it - the peach smell. It makes his heart ache and he tries to will down the tears. He loves you, doesn’t he? 

God. He can’t love you, can he?

“Am I imagining you or are you really here?”

“Really here, Eren.” 

You’re back. He won’t let you leave again. 

“I haven’t seen you in three days.” 

“I went to see Porco and Pieck for the weekend.” 

“It’s Tuesday. I was worried about you.” 

“Sorry Eren.” 

He can’t even do it. Be mad at you, tell you he was hurting the past few days. He can’t even remember it now, the feel of your skin against his hands was enough. 

“It’s okay. You wake up Porco and Pieck with your morning concert while you were there?” 

Your voice doesn’t fill the air, the sound of the plate in your hand crashing does. He immediately jerks up, your hands still dangerously close to the shards that were now swirling around in the water. Before he can pull your hands out, run his eyes over your fingers to make sure you weren’t hurt, you mutter three words that catch him off guard. 

“Screw you, Eren.” 

He can feel his breath stopping in his tracks. He’d never heard you like this, especially with him. Your voice was soft, sweet honey saccharine. Even when you were fast asleep, all tangled up in his sheets. So why were you angry?

“What?” 

“I’m so sick of you making fun of me all the time. If something I do annoys you, you should just tell me, instead of making passive aggressive comments.” 

Making fun of you? All the time? You couldn’t be serious. There’s no way you misunderstood that. He loves your singing - that you’re comfortable enough to scream in the shower when he’s a few feet away. That the music makes you happy enough to sing out loud, to dance in the kitchen, to share it with him. This couldn’t come out of nowhere. Because you have to know. You have to know that he loves it. 

“Hey, what happened, peaches? You could never annoy me. I was just teasing you.” 

He watches his words hit you, the air tightening in his chest at the sight of you pushing your hands against your eyes. No. No. He couldn’t have made you cry. 

“You happened. I’m not something for you to laugh at Eren. I have feelings too, you know?” 

He watches you move, slamming your door against the frame as you scurry into your room. 

He doesn’t understand it. How you were tangled in his arms, breathing soft against his ears as he kissed you four days ago and now you can’t stand him. He hates it, that he knows how you feel, your touch. Maybe it would be easier if he hadn’t known it at all. 

- 

“We’re okay, right?” 

The question comes three days later, one of the first times you and Eren had been alone in your apartment, since your argument. You kept inviting people over, so you could avoid this. That look, that question, talking about it. 

You nod, wordlessly, sorting out the paperwork. It’s easier to focus on the papers than his eyes. 

Eren had mentioned that the two of you needed to go into town tomorrow, to meet your landlord. Kenny Ackerman. He was apparently a touch eccentric, so he was preparing you for the meeting. You just had to officially sign onto the lease. But how do you tell Eren you’re not even sure you can live with him anymore? 

“How have you been? Lately?” 

You hate this. Be cool about it. 

“Good, Eren. Just busy. How about you?” 

“I’m good too. Soccer season and all that.” 

You wish he was kind enough to be cruel about it. That he could either love you or hate you - nothing in between. You’d prefer that, him declaring he doesn’t care for you. It would be easier that way. But he stays the same - caring, thoughtful, warm. 

“When’s your next game?” 

“Today.” 

“Got your good luck charm?” 

“It broke actually.” 

He opens the kitchen drawer, pulling out the key and the snapped chain. He hands the pieces to you, as you run your fingers along the chain. 

“What are you going to do?” 

“Not sure. Let’s hope I don’t break an arm or something.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“I’ve worn that necklace every game I’ve played since I was twelve. One time I forgot it and I broke my ankle.” 

You laugh, twisting the key in your fingers, as you look at him.

“You can’t be serious, right? That’s just a coincidence.” 

“It’s real.” 

“Did it ever happen again, Eren?” 

“No. Do you think I’d ever play a game without it? That’s like basically asking for it.” 

You laugh, the two of you stuck in the middle of the kitchen. You hate this. That he can make you laugh, even after not talking for a week. That some part of him is always familiar to you, that you want to let him in. 

“Do you still have the necklace I gave you?” 

At the concert. 

“Ah yeah.” 

He digs his fingers underneath his shirt, pulling the silver chain out. You spin your finger, signaling for him to turn around. You quickly take the latch off and string the key through the chain before securing it back on. You tap his shoulder and he faces you again, watching you readjust and tuck the necklace back into his jersey. 

“Thanks peaches. Saving my life here.” 

“Yeah, yeah.” 

Sometimes you forget why you’re mad at him. Why you can’t do this. Hitch walks out of Eren’s room, right on cue, with green glitter spread across her face. Right. That’s why. 

“Hey Rennie. Still can’t find it.” 

“I’m not sure what I did with it, Hitch.” 

“Have you seen it, Y/N?” 

“Seen what?” 

“His extra jersey. I wanted to wear it to the game today.” 

Right. The jersey he gave you. To wear to all his games. 

“I think it might have gotten mixed up with my laundry. I’ll go check my room.” 

You retrieve the jersey from your room, your knuckles nearly white when you hand it over to Hitch to wear to the game. You make a mental note to fold and return the rest of Eren’s clothes you had and put them in his room. There’s no point in keeping them at this point. She gives you a smile, taking the jersey to go change into. 

“You didn’t have to give it to her.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“I gave it to you for a reason.” 

“I don’t mind. It makes sense anyways - girlfriends always wear jerseys to the games.” 

“She’s not my girlfriend.” 

“I know.”

Girlfriend, fling, your roommate you kiss sometimes. It’s all the same thing. As much as you think you’ve given everything, that there’s nothing more that can hurt you, the universe proves you wrong. 

You’re sure it’s all the same with her too - kissing scars, pretty dresses, soft kisses. It’s a bad omen, but you hope it hurts for her as much as it does for you, when it’ll end.

- 

next part linked here

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reply under this post or any of the one’s linked above to be added to the tag list! <3 

[tvgals]

‘ CHILL OUT ‘

pt.3

READ PARTS 2 AND 1 BEFORE READING THIS !

— e42! miles morales x black! fem! reader

synopsis — you’ve been cheated on, you’ve been lied to, and you’ve been heartbroken but you damn well ain’t gon be wallowing in self pity forever.

“you’re not mad?” jess asks you, her face covered in surprise. “nope.” you shrug, grabbing your bag full of snacks and walking out of the store, jess trying to follow up behind you. “on god?” she inquires, biting the inside of her cheek. you kept on walking without any response. “i take that as a no. look, please don’t say anything to jaya. she really trusts me and-“ jess is cut off with you heaving a sigh. “you’ve been talking shit too, huh?” you confront jess, well..not really..it’s more of a yes or no question. “what? ahah! why would you say that?” jess chuckles nervously, twiddling her thumbs.

“i’ve known jaya since sixth grade and i been living in brooklyn since i was born. i know when people talk shit about me, i’m not an idiot. so i will ask you one more time,” you take a deep breath. “have you been talking shit?” jess sighs and stops walking, turning around and walking the other way. that was enough of an answer for you. “fuckin’..” you mumble, walking back to your dorm. everything fell apart within the span of two days. you learned your boyfriend cheated on you, your so called “friend” was talking shit about you to someone new. this was terrible. you missed miles, as much as you hate to say it. you wanted him to hold you and have him tell you he loves you and all of this never happened. you look on your key ring and see the key to miles’ dorm room. you change routes and head over to his room, hoping it’d just be him so his roommate wouldn’t have to hear the oh so awkward conversation. you walk up the stairs leading to the dorms and find yourself outside miles’,contemplating on leaving. before you could think anymore, you insert the key into the lock and walk in, the smell of miles’ cologne hitting your nose. you walk into miles’ room to see him on the bed, seeming as if he’s sleeping. you knew this was a dumb idea. you bite your lip and turn to leave.

“come back..” miles mumbles, rolling into the wall to make room for you. “miles-“ you groan. “just come here. please.” you take your shoes off and lay next to him, trying to not make bodily contact with your ex. in his bed. you and miles sit in silence for a while, listening to the bustling sound of traffic outside and the occasional laughter of children walking down the street. “miles.” you whisper, turning to face him. “yeah?” he whispers right back. “what really happened?” you ask, watching miles hands inch closer to your own.

“if i tell you this you won’t do nothing stupid, right?” miles turns to you, cocking a brow. “promise.” you tell him. miles sighs. “y’know that party i went to like a month ago?” you nod. “i was walking ‘round talkin’ to people, and yo’ lil’ friend jaya came up to me talking bout how she wanted to get put on with me — so i said no cause i already got a girl, right?” you nod along while miles talks. “then she was talking ‘bout how she was better than you this that and the third and i’m like, ‘what?’ you feel me?” you scrunch your face up. someone has to be lying. it’s either him or jaya. “wait wait,” you interrupted him. “jaya said you called her phone?” miles scrunches his face up and looks at you crazy.

“forreal? nah, she’s lying to you ma’.” miles chuckles lowly, pulling you into his side. “are you sure?” you question him, ignoring the fact he told you he did inafct cheat.

“mhm.”

you couldn’t help but think he was lying too, miles was prone to lie. like the time he said he would come home at 9 and came home at 2:30 in the morning or the time he told you he’d never lie to you, but he did, and you couldn’t help but think he’s doing it again. “you’re a liar, miles.” you whisper into his stature.

“i wouldn’t lie to you-“ “but you would. you’ve done it countless times and you expect me to fall for it again. well i won’t, miles morales,” you tell him, pushing yourself off of the bed and walking out his room. “baby, come back.” miles says sternly, getting up and following behind you. “no. you can’t force me to stay here wit’ yo lying, cheating ass. you told me you cheated,” you pointed an accusatory finger into his chest. “and you wanna sit here and sweet talk me? well it’s not gonna fucking work.” you sniff, turning around and walking out the door.

you were gonna get your revenge and fast.

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[27spoons]

travis was a misogynist not a “bitch” and excusing misogyny with “he was 16” is not the move. do 4chan boys get a free pass because theyre still in high school? why cant any of you just admit what he did was wrong and say he grew instead of excusing it with his age 😐

i never said what he did wasn't wrong lmao. I'm a travnat supporter and a travis disliker (idc if they contradict each other)

I HATED his ass in s1. HATED. hell, I hated him for most of s2 as well. it wasn't until my third (I think.) rewatch that I started liking him. once I was able to actually watch the show and think about the characters and their actions... yeah. the way he acted started making sense to me a little.

also... time period. just in general. things were a lot different almost thirty (30) years ago than they are today. the way travis acted is honestly probably pretty accurate for an angsty, hormonal teenage dude for the area.

you guys can argue w me about this but I know for a fact if travis was a chick people would be all "ooooooh toxic yuri uwu" (and I only say that because I would also be saying some shit about toxic yuri. i love toxic yuri.)

low-grade analysis under cut

Travis has done a lot of things I don't like. Let's talk about it.

s1e2 - Nat is trying to talk to Travis about helping Javi. Travis gets all pissy and tells Nat to mind her own business, and then proceeds to leave (and not go help Javi)

s1e3 - Travis forces Javi to spit the gum out by getting him in a headlock. Yes, what he's doing has good intentions behind it. But the way he went about it? Especially considering how young Javi is and all the shit they just went through?

s1e4 - ohhhh boy. This is an episode for travis haters. First and foremost, finding the gun and just taking aim at squirrels (I think idr) for fun, scaring the shit outta everyone.

s1e4 - after nat fucks up her first shot with the gun, he starts saying some shit about "folding laundry and sucking dick", which is super out of pocket considering all Nat has been thus far is supportive of him.

s1e4 - travis points the gun at nat after she calls him flex. which, honestly, was probably just her being a brat in turn for his "folding laundry and sucking dick" comment. either way, SUPER out of pocket.

s1e6 - when they get back to the cabin (holding hands) jackie starts talking shit. travis sits like a submissive puppy in the corner and lets nat talk, when realistically, he's half the problem as well, but he lets her take the attack from jackie. he could have, and should have, stepped up. she isn't the only one responsible for hunting.

s1e6 - the scene where they almost have sex. you know the one. the condom falls out of his pants. the "how many guys have you been with" / "I just wanna know if ("I'm a slut" -nat)". that entire scene pissed me off to no extent. yes, he's been a misogynistic cunt.

same scene - the jason russo comment. "he's a dude", implying that its different for guys, when realistically, it has the same repercussions as it does for chicks. (insert nats speech about vaginas having monologues)

s1e7 - the almost sex scene in the cabin. yeah, he's nervous (and embarrassed), but literally running away????? bruh. not to mention how that whole scenario made nat feel. because, if I was nat? i'd feel like shit. just... terrible. then he spends the next little while just straight up avoiding her????? like????? dude

s1e8 - bobby farleigh. FUCK that scene annoys me. I'm pretty sure I made a post when I was rewatching it last time about how much it pissed me off that travis was acting like that when NAT DIDNT KNOW HIM WHEN SHE SLEPT WITH BOBBY FARLEIGH. SHE DIDNT KNOW HIM. and nat even admits she made a mistake by sleeping with bobby. ("are you seriously gonna ruin this over something so fucking stupid") mind you, what nat said afterwards ("this would have been harder if we actually fucked") wasn't cool either. but she was hurt, and you cant really blame her for her reaction.

s1e9 - him sleeping with jackie. which, you could argue that he was high asf on shrooms, but whatever.

s1e10 - him reacting the way he does when nat just wants to check on him after the events of the previous night. telling her that he got laid (spitefully), snapping when she tries to help him... yeah. he was being a petty ass bitch.

s2e2 - listen. this one isn't on him. i know he was having a whole crisis of faith, but hallucinating lottie while having sex with nat is WILD and makes me so uncomfortable every time I see it (which is why I cant blame sophie thatcher for saying "I've never watched the sex scene" because I cant blame you girl that shit gives me second-hand embarrassment)

Now, let's talk about travnat specifically.

s1e4 - Travis is trying to cut off his dads ring for Javi. he cant do it. nat does it for him. this is the first time they actually have a positive interaction (IMO). nat didn't have to do that. but she did.

s1e4 - the scene in the plane when they share a smoke and talk about their dads. its a trauma-bonding moment. i enjoy that. sue me. they're both able to connect on a level like that because they share similar experiences. both witnessed what happened to their dad. both had a rough relationship with their dad.

s1e4 - that scene where they shoot the buck. nat starts tearing up and having flashbacks. travis is able to calm her breathing down enough to kill the deer.

s1e5 - the scene where they talk about the girls being on their periods. its cute. they flirt and tease. ITS CUTE. sue me. their teasing goes from hostile to playful.

s1e5 - the "magic trick" and the kiss had me giggling and kicking my feet. its cute. nat looks HAPPY. how often is this girl happy anymore? not often!

s1e6 - that plane scene when they're kissing. nat saw that travis was uncomfortable (and likely in his own head) after the tray table thing, and she was able to get them back into the moment without too much fuss.

s1e6 - plane scene with condom. travis was just... insecure. nat realises that after he reveals that he's a virgin. nat reiterates that their relationship means something.

s1e7 - nat asking travis not to go 😭😭😭😭😭 puppy eyes bro. the way travis responds w tears in his eyes...............

s1e8 - nat having the talk w ben about travis. ben saying "I've seen the way he looks at you"...................... ugh puppy love

s1e9 - him sleeping with jackie and saying "but what about natalie?" before they do anything, saying that he thinks he's in love with her........................... if jackie didn't do the whole gaslight thing I don't think they would have slept together. but I think travis felt bad for jackie, travis was also still hurting from his interaction with nat about bobby farleigh, AND the shrooms. it was a bad combination.

s1e9 - nat having her talk w ben about how she thinks she's in love w travis........................ ugh

s1e9 - nat saving travis from shauna right before shauna slices his throat open. travis being #1 priority before she deals w everyone else.

s1e10 - the love confession. (WITH THAT MF ULTRAVOX PLAYING. THAT WAS FUCKED UP. YOU CANT PLAY THAT FOR A MOMENT LIKE THIS AND THE SCENE WHERE WE SEE TRAVIS'S DEAD BODY. FUCKED UP.

early s2 - nat waking up earlier than she normally would for hunting to help travis look for javi. does she have to? no. but she does because she cares about him.

s2e4 - travis being a malewife and helping nat get ready for the competition

s2e4 - travis being the one to pull nat out of the ice and comfort her after they drop the moose

s2e5 - the argument between them about javi being fucked up because travis stopped looking for him after nat planted the ripped, bloodied clothing. i cant blame travis for acting this way. id be pissed if I found out my partner did that too.

s1e8 -the "you're not a bad person, nat. I'm sorry for ever making you feel like one." ugh. traumatized babies.

s1e8 - TRAVIS SAIVNG NAT FROM SHAUNA. TRAVIS SAVING NAT FROM SHAUNA. TRAVIS SAVING NAT FROM SHUANA

s1e9 - the scene when everyone is like pledging allegiance to nat or w/e and travis places her hand over his heart I'm sobbing

anyways. yes. i dislike travis. but i like travnat. i hope i dont regret saying this in the next season, but for right now? i like them. there are more reasons I like travnat than reasons I dislike travis. travis has done fucked up things, but so has nat. their characters and relationship is flawed and I like that. sue me