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pretty-little-mind33 · 4 months ago

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chaser!James Potter x chaser!fem!reader

Summary: James is threatened by how good you are at Quidditch which means he hates you. And what emotion is closer to hate than love?

Genre: Angsty Fluff, 'rivals' to lovers <3

Warnings: James is seriously a dick in the beginning, teasing, slight bullying, swearing, fighting, social class differences, reader is an only child, didn't really understand how Quidditch Captains are appointed but bare with me <3

~ finally finished this! loved this ask anon! thank you, my lovely! ~

JAMES POTTER MASTERLIST

James Potter is sprawled across the large, maroon, couch in the center of the Gryffindor Common room, his arms draped over the cushions as his legs lay across Sirius Black's lap.

Sirius, who would probably mind more if he wasn't as drunk as his best friend.

"I mean, fuck me, she wasn't even that good and McGonagall saw her and still looked at her like she'd just hung the moon in the sky!" James exclaims, his ears burning as he recalls Quidditch tryouts that morning.

He's pissed.

"You're just annoyed that she just started and now has a chance at Captain because Mini liked her so much," Sirius points out, which earns him a harsh swat on the top of his head.

James's face sours and he restrains himself from whining like a petulant child. Sirius was right, he was mad because you gave him a run for his money and no one has done that until now.

This was supposed to be his year. McGonagall loved him (mostly)! The Captain position was basically promised to him since his second year and now you've come around and ruined this for him!

"She's seriously not even that good, it's infuriating," James lies and looks around the small gathering they're having. He knows everyone can hear him but he doesn't care. "And she's so fucking annoying," he sounds bitter, "she's always talking everyone's ears off— and have you seen her stupid hair? She wore those fucking space buns just to make herself look cute, I swear!" He lifts himself off the couch for a moment, his arms raising in exasperation, and then lets out a sigh.

"That is usually the reason girls do their hair, James, yes," Remus interrupts from the floor where he's reading his book, his back leaning against the couch.

"Shut up," James grumbles and slumps back down. "I don't want her on the team. She's a nuisance already."

"Speaking of," Peter adds, his voice smaller as he glances towards the stairs to the girls' dorms. James whips his head around and his eyes narrow. You're walking towards the small gathering with some friends.

You're dressed in a Quidditch sweater that is only slightly oversized as the sleeves cover your hands. You're blissfully unaware of how much James Potter hates you so when you see him staring, you assume he wants to talk to you. You liked his company during tryouts. He was funny.

You'd always found him funny.

So, you walk over with a smile and James struggles to sit up. He's very obviously sloshed.

"Hello, Potter," you say and your smile widens. "This is Jane and that's Gabrielle," you introduce your friends. "I enjoyed try-outs, you were amazing. If I'm honest, I've always admired you during games. You're so talented," you feel yourself rambling but you're smiling too much to stop yourself, "I'm so happy we're gonna be on the same team now! I think we should–"

James cuts you off, a mean smirk on his lips as he looks at his friends and the students around you, "What did I say? A little chatterbox this one is," he quips, not completely unaware of how harsh his words are even in his drunken state.

Your hands fall at your sides, and the wind feels like it's been knocked from your lungs at his words when you realize he's making fun of you. You look at your friends and they stare at James with pronounced frowns.

"Oh," you whisper, but then you add, "That's not very nice, Potter."

A little surprised you'd had the guts to stand up to him, James retorts instantly. "Yeah? Is it now, Y/l/n?" He sounds mocking again and you don't understand why.

Your friends pull on your sleeve. "C'mon, Y/n, he's a prick," they turn you around, feeling how hurt you are as they walk away from James and his friends.

"Classy, James, real classy," Remus mutters under his breath.

And as awful as sober James might admit it is, he feels like he'd won something against you.

* * *

You can't understand why James seems to hate you as much as he does.

You've never been mean to him or done anything to harm him— on the contrary, you've only ever spoken highly of him and you know you've made a point of showing him that you trust him as a player when you're practicing. You want him to trust you too.

And still, James hates you and he makes that very clear.

He turns anything into a competition when it comes to you and it's obvious he takes pleasure in making you feel like shit.

As the days turn into weeks, you feel hopeless and even now you find yourself sitting alone on the grass during breaks, adjusting your uniform so you look busy as you hold in your tears.

You can hear James's cruel whispers about you to your teammates, purposefully creating rifts between you and them so you'll feel even more alone.

"She's so desperate," James's mockery causes another ache in your stomach and you chew on your lip so hard you're afraid you'll draw blood. You try not to listen to him as the whistle blows and the practice game starts again.

You're not on James's team this time–which means he either ignores you completely or targets you over anyone. As he hovers near you, you realize this morning it's the latter.

Maria Baker throws you the Quaffle and just as she does, you can sense James coming. You avoid his shoulder just in time and, with a huff, you score into the nearest hoop.

This just infuriates James even more and ups his game—which means the next time you have the Quaffle, he flies up to your shoulder again and pushes you hard to the side. He jabs his elbow into your ribs, purposefully playing dirty.

You wince. "O-ow, James, that hurts," you hiss, focusing on staying in the air as James rough-houses with you.

Your anger builds now and you shove him back, almost slipping from your broom as you try and defend yourself.

The Quaffle falls from your arms as James hits your shoulder with his again and you gasp. You expect him to rush to the ball and continue the game but he's furious from you shoving him so he grabs one of your braids and pulls.

You feel yourself fall from your broom as you cry in pain and you turn your body, clutching the end of James's uniform and, with a grunt from him, you're suddenly both plummeting to the ground.

You roll onto your stomach, falling onto James's chest as his arms automatically wrap around your back and he groans, looking up at you as you practically straddle his lap. Your head is throbbing from where he'd pulled your hair, your left braid messier than your right, and pure fury flashes in your eyes.

You lean over James, grabbing a handful of his curls and you pull. "What the bloody hell is your problem? How do you like it, hm?! You insufferable jerk!"

James doesn't take too kindly to this and he grabs your wrists, flipping you over so you're the one under him. His mum had told him never to hit a girl but oh does he want to hit you right now. You're staring up at him with that look he hates—the one that makes him feel all fluttery in his stomach.

You're struggling against his grip, grass in your hair. James's cheeks must be just as covered in dirt as yours are and his shoulder aches from the way he'd fallen.

"Potter! Y/l/n!" The whistle blows and the current Captain, Ines Clarke, runs up with McGonagall behind her. She'd seen the commotion from inside and seemed more than furious as she rushed over.

Some of your teammates follow, including Sirius Black who grips James's collar and pulls him off you. You hear Sirius hiss, "Prongs!! What in Godric's name is wrong with you?!" and then McGonagall pulls your attention to her.

Ines helps you up, looking concerned but then turns her attention to James. McGonagall walks over and when she sees the mess James has made of you, she frowns. "Are you alright, Miss Y/l/n?"

You nod, your lips pressed tightly as you see a bunch of your teammates have gathered around James as he rolls his shoulder. You look at your broom, which lies broken on the grass, and your eyes water. McGonagall senses your distress and she glances at James.

"James Potter!" She suddenly snaps her dainty fingers and James is next to her in seconds, both hands gripping his only slightly damaged broom.

It had been better quality than yours anyway.

His nervous eyes dart from McGonagall to you as he takes you in. You stare at him, unable to look away from how messy you've made his naturally tousled hair and you wonder if grass and dirt stick to your cheeks just as they do to James'.

"This," McGonagall points in between you both, "isn't how we do things here—you know this better than anyone, Mr. Potter. Your behavior is unacceptable." she reprimands him sternly and then looks at you, "and Miss Y/l/n, no matter how other teammates provoke you, you don't have the right to lay your hands on them either."

"But–"

"No. No more buts." McGonagall ignores both your protests as she looks down at your broom. "You need to learn how to behave like a team."

She thinks for a moment. "Tomorrow morning, you'll travel to Hogsmeade so Miss Y/l/n can replace her broom. Mr. Potter, you'll help her without any complaints, and neither of you better step foot on the pitch again until you've worked out whatever this feud is."

Your eyes widen. You want to tell McGonagall you cannot buy a new broom right now, but she clearly doesn't have anyexcuses about her new team bonding exercise. This means, much to your dismay, you end up waiting for James early the next morning, hugging your arms around you as you pick at the wool on your sweater.

James is ten minutes late. You want to kill him.

"Oi," his voice calls from behind you, irritatingly nonchalant. You turn and see he's also wearing his Quidditch sweater—which means you're now unintentionally matching—and a pair of casual trousers. James sends you a lopsided smirk, pushing his hands into his pockets as he sways on his feet almost awkwardly. "Why so gloomy, newb?" he mocks, the nickname rolling cruelly from his tongue.

You scrunch up your nose and spin around, walking in front of him as you clutch your purse. You don't want to give him a reaction and have him mock you the entire way into town. Instead, you both walk in silence, taking in the morning air and the sound of the birds.

Occasionally your purse will hit James's hip and he'll frown, opening to say another snarky comment until he sees a keychain; the one you have of Olive Gnats, a famous chaser from the Montrose Magpies.

"Oh, Gnats, I like her too—" he finds himself admitting before he can remind himself he hates you.

You startle and clutch your keychain, wanting to hide it from him but then you look down and then back up at James. "O-oh, yeah, she's my favorite player. Her technique is incomparable."

"Seen her match last year?"

"'Course," you say, your tone less on edge now that you're talking about something you clearly love, and the rambling you do so much kicks in, "I would watch her every game ever since I was six years old. Have around ten posters in my room at home, some are old now but—I- I studied her moves when I would play around with my mum and dad—they also played in school—that's how they met—" You cut yourself off, James's earlier taunts ringing in your head.

Your rambling is ignored as curiously overpowers him and James asks, "You have no siblings to play with?"

You shake your head. "Nope. Only child."

James's hazel eyes soften and he feels a funny feeling in his chest. "Oh, m-me too. Has its perks and its downfalls, y'know?" he whispers as he looks at you from the corner of his eye. His heart pounds.

The sun hits your skin just perfectly and your hair smells like cinnamon shampoo. James feels drawn to you again—just like he had in the beginning—and he wants to stop himself but when you laugh at his comment, he feels like an arrow has just shot his heart.

"Oh yeah, it certainly does," you sound guarded again and James can't even be upset.

It's his fault you're like this around him.

He opens the door for you when you enter Quality Quidditch Supplies and the little bell rings. Instantly, you're drawn to the newest broom—displayed with polished wood and improved flying qualities—but you turn your head, knowing instantly you can't pay for a broom like that—

"Hey, look at this one," James's excitement tugs at your heart and you walk over, standing beside him as you can't help but admire the broom up close. "It feels amazing," James says as he runs his hand over the smooth wood. He's grinning. "This is the one, isn't it?"

You bite your cheek. You want it to be.

"I don't know, I–haven't seen the others," you whisper, avoiding James's eyes.

"What? What are you talking about? This one is the best by far, you aren't gonna find a better broom."

"I want to look around," you whisper, looking at the price of this broom, and your heart sinks.

"Y/n, this is ridiculous—"

"James, stop," you snap, very clearly annoyed. You can't tell if he means well by being persistent since he's only just now started to show you any form of kindness and this still feels like some cruel joke he's playing on you.

"I can't pay for this one—and the truth is I can't pay for any of these so—I- I think—" you pause, clutching at your purse desperately as you hold in tears of embarrassment. "I should tell McGonagall I couldn't find a broom I liked and I'll borrow an older one from my parents—

—plus, if I buy this one you'll just have another reason to hate me," you finish.

Your words hit James hard as he takes in what you mean. Shame sneaks up on him instantly as he knows exactly why you would think that. It suddenly hits him just how threatened he's been and as silly as it sounds the only image in James's head is the disappointed look of his mother if she knew he had taken out his own insecurities on you.

If Euphemia Potter knew how much of a dick he's been to you, she'd be horrified.

He looks at you closely, taking in how embarrassed you look. During tense moments with his friends, Remus had sometimes told him he was a spoiled rich boy—unaware of real struggles — and he'd always brushed him off.

Only this time, he can't unhear Remus's jab as he realizes how foolish he had been to assume anything about you.

"Oh," he whispers.

You look away at the other brooms. "I- I honestly didn't realize how expensive new brooms are. My mum and dad had gotten the other one for my eleventh birthday—I should have been more careful—" You sound sad and James's heart sinks.

"Hey, listen, it's my fault your broom is broken. I- shouldn't have been so rough on you like I was. I'm sorry," he speaks up, sounding sincere and you look up at him, expecting a better explanation than that.

"It's no excuse but, the truth is, I was incredibly threatened by you. You're so good, better than me even, and I really want Captain so—"

"I don't want Captain," you say instantly. "I just wanted to be on the team—"

At that point, James remembers what you'd said that night when he was piss-drunk in the Common Room. 'I've always admired you during games.' It dawns on him that you just wanted him to like you and, instead, he'd gone and seen you as an enemy. His chest hurts.

He has never felt more like an ass than now.

"Okay, well, um," he whispers, rubbing his nape, "Let me make it up to you then. I'll buy you the broom." James means well, he truly does, but it only makes you feel more embarrassed and you shake your head.

"No. I don't need your pity," you say instantly as you stare at him, eyes narrowed.

"I'm not pitying you! I'm fixing my mistake," he exclaims, his voice strained.

You open your mouth to protest when he adds, "Please."

James looks determined as he rummages through his robes for any spare change he can use and then he curses. "Shit, I didn't bring enough money," he mumbles and lifts his head, looking up at you with his puppy-like brown eyes. "I promise I'll buy it for you, Y/n. Okay? I'll make this right," he adds again and your expression softens.

"Sure, James," you whisper, not entirely sure if you believe him.

* * *

He did buy you the broom.

James had it wrapped neatly with a small letter signed J.P accompanied with the words, "I'm sorry," scribbled onto the parchment.

Since that morning, he didn't ignore you anymore, he included you with the other teammates, and he played fair with you—even complimenting you sometimes. McGonagall had seen the change in dynamic and so had Ines, which she'd praised you both for.

"Good job, Y/l/n," Ines grins as she packs up her bags, "you and Potter seem to be getting on much better now." She winks and her comment passes over you as you focus on untying your ponytail, rubbing your scalp.

The rest of the team has fallen in front of you, laughing and chatting as they walk back to the dorm. You're lost in the moment, struggling with holding your bag as you run your hand in your hair, the tightness of the ponytail was causing you a headache.

Suddenly, you suddenly squeal when you almost trip over James—who had bent down to tie his shoes and had been separated from the group.

He grunts and stands up, turning around and catching your arm as he steadies you.

"Oh hey, Y/n," he grins, and then he glances at your poor bag hanging from your arm. Swiftly, he takes your bag and holds it over his other shoulder, not even commenting on the gesture.

"Want some company walking back to the Common Room?" he asks casually.

You blow some strands away from your eyes as you look up at him, grateful for the momentary relief from your bag as the pain in your scalp subsides.

"Sure," you say, reaching for your bag but James holds it up and away from you.

"Let me be a gentleman here," he teases.

You roll your eyes with no malice. "Hero complex much, Potter?"

He chuckles as you walk inside the school, side by side. James winks at you. "On the contrary, Y/l/n, I am the hero. Don't need a complex when you are one, y'know?"

You laugh, hearing the joking infliction in his voice as your heart feels lighter. Much to your better judgment, you've actually been enjoying James's company these last weeks, and talking to him alone like this has been even more fun. "I think you think much too highly of yourself, James." you tease him back.

"I am wounded, Y/n." He fakes hurt as he puts a hand over his heart.

"It's true is it not?" you say with a smirk and James narrows his eyes as you turn a corner, getting closer to the Common Room. You shrug, catching yourself. "Nothing wrong with some confidence."

James grins, his eyes sparkling playfully as he gently nudges your side with his elbow. "You could learn a few things from me, eh?"

You frown. "Are you saying I'm not confident?"

James hums, smirking, "'M just giving you some advice, love. You have the skills now, you gotta trust yourself." You both approach the entrance and you mutter the secret word to the Fat Lady Painting and the door cracks open. You push it further with your palm.

"Since when are you giving me Quidditch advice to make me better?"

James turns around once he's inside and hands you your bag. "Since I realized if you can't beat them, join them," he jokes with a smile, "We're a team now, Y/n. I know I was a real dick in the beginning, but I look out for my teammates. You're my teammate, so now I look after you."

Your shoulders relax and a small smile tugs your lips. "Thanks, James," you say honestly and rest your bag higher on your shoulder, tucking some hair behind your ear as you smooth the knots a little. "I really appreciate that."

"Anytime," James whispers as you walk up the stairs to the girl's dorm. Sirius whistles from where he's sitting on one of the couches, his head leaning against the armrest as he watches you and James. Once you disappear from view, James spins around, his eyes narrowing at his best friend.

Sirius winks and looks at James's sneakers. "This is the third time this week you've used that stupid shoelace excuse, Prongs. At this point, just stay back and ask her to walk with you, you chicken."

James's cheeks turn crimson and he walks over to shove Sirius, "Shut up."

Sirius just laughs loudly.

* * *

You've never felt so nervous in your life as you clutch the wood of your new, expensive, broom. The wind has picked up and everyone can tell the Ravenclaw and Gryffindor seekers are having a hard time finding the snitch. You're breathing heavily as you look around, seeing Maria—the third chaser—throw James the Quaffle.

James easily catches the Quaffle, avoiding the Ravenclaws on his right as he swoops lower. Your adrenaline is pumping and you think you know what he's doing. You hope. You fly closer and higher to the hoops, letting James know you're open.

Your memory flashes to the beginning when he wouldn't pass you the Quaffle under any circumstances, even if it cost the team the point. He can be so headstrong and your body is buzzing as you watch him closely.

What if he doesn't throw it to you? You have the perfect shot.

James looks at you from the corner of his eye, shoving a Ravenclaw with his shoulder to disorient them.

He could want the score for himself—but he's surrounded, he could miss.

The sound of the crowd is drowned out when you see his arm raise and he's communicating with his eyes. You nod, jumping into action as you fly closer and avoid the Ravenclaws as you catch the Quaffle and throw your arm back, throwing the Quaffle directly into the middle hoop.

Just as you score, Oliver—Ravenclaw's seeker—catches the snitch and the whistle blows. Gryffindor was leading already and you glance at the board. It didn't matter that Oliver caught the snitch, your goal had helped secure Gryffindor the win. Cheers erupt around you and you find yourself in a trance as your feet hit the ground and you clutch your broom.

"Y/n!" Someone calls your name as the ringing in your ears dies and you feel hands wrap around your waist, hoisting you up in the air as you twirl around. A gasp escapes your lips as you clutch onto the culprit's shoulder, the cheers continuing to echo around the pitch.

"You did so amazingly," James's excitement shines as he slowly lowers you back onto the ground, your chest brushing against his as your hands find themselves wrapped around his neck. You stare into his eyes, feeling his proximity and you suddenly feel warm and dizzy.

Has he always been this handsome?

"James." His name is the only thing your brain can think to say as he refuses to let you go. He also looks breathless and his cheeks have turned a faint shade of pink as his eyes roam over your features.

You want to tell him a thousand things. How good he was, how you're so happy the team won, how honored you are he trusted you enough to throw you the Quaffle to make the score. You want to ask if you were more confident this time and if he's noticed your effort—but instead, any attempt at words is drowned by his lips meeting yours.

You don't kiss him back for a moment, your hand faltering behind his neck as your fingers find the baby hairs on his nape. He feels so close and your lips part a little, kissing him back carefully as your eyes shut.

James's hands squeeze your waist and for a moment the crowd and the team are completely forgotten until James pulls away, and the sound of cheering returns as the realization of what happened dawns on you both.

"I'm sorry," James mutters, stepping away but he keeps a hand on you.

"You're sorry?" you ask, your voice small.

James hesitates, looking at you seriously and then he shakes his head. "No. I'm not sorry."

Your lips curl upwards and, still ignoring everyone around you, you pull him down by the collar of his shirt and kiss his lips again. James grins against your mouth, his heart thumps in his chest as all he can think about is you.

"Oi, no PDA on the pitch, you pervs!" Sirius's teasing voice suddenly shouts out from somewhere beside you but you're almost positive no one else is worried about you and James considering everyone's celebrating on their own.

James must feel the same because he throws up a middle finger with the hand that leaves your waist and you laugh into his mouth, reaching for his arm to stop him.

"Prick," James mutters to Sirius, "You're annoying," he adds with some playful bite.

He turns to you and his gaze softens. "But you're lovely," he whispers, earning him the prettiest smile he's ever seen and he's never been more proud.

tags: @mischievousmoony, @sayitlikethecheese

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steddieas-shegoes · 4 months ago

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scared to want you

for @steddie-week prompt 'exes to lovers'

rated m | 1021 words | cw: implied sexual content | tags: post breakup, getting back together, idiots in love, platonic stobin

❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️��🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

“Are you gonna stop staring at him anytime soon?” Robin’s voice asked loudly in his ear.

“Probably not,” Steve admitted. “He’s wearing my sweater.”

He saw Robin’s head whip around to look back at Eddie. “Holy shit.”

“Yeah.”

It’s surprising to see Eddie here at all, let alone in Steve’s sweater. Eddie had moved back in with Wayne three months ago after an argument with Steve that led whatever they were to destruction.

Steve wanted more, Eddie had been afraid. Steve said he loved him, Eddie said he needed to leave.

Steve spent the last three months hurting. Eddie was wearing his sweater in public.

Everything was a little confusing right now.

“We should go, Steve.” Robin sounded angry now, and Steve loved her for it. She’d been the one to show up at his door a few hours after Eddie was gone and held him while he cried. She’d been there for weeks while he avoided everyone’s questions, went through the motions of being an adult while barely getting by. She had blocked Eddie on all of his social media and her own out of spite. “It doesn’t do you any good to sit here and pine after someone who hurt you.”

She was right, of course, but he couldn’t leave.

Eddie was wearing his sweater.

Eddie looked good in his sweater.

“Steve.”

Steve turned to Robin, who was smiling sadly back at him.

“I don’t think I can go without talking to him.”

Robin nodded once, always so understanding of Steve, supportive even when he didn’t always deserve it. She was the best, and he was about to piss her off.

“I’ll text you when I leave,” he said as he gave her a quick hug. She wouldn’t want to stick around to see what happens with this. “I’ll be fine.”

He wouldn’t, and she knew that, but she squeezed his hand in hers and left anyway.

Eddie hadn’t noticed him yet, or at least wasn’t acting like he had. He was standing at the bar talking to the bartender and a woman who walked in only a few minutes ago. Whatever he was talking about seemed serious, none of them smiling.

Steve walked up to the bar slowly, but with the sole purpose of talking to Eddie.

The bartender turned to him and smiled. “Hey, hon. You need another Sunrise, Sunset?”

Steve shook his head, but smiled at her. “No thanks, Kim. Just here to say hi to someone.”

When he turned towards Eddie, he was already looking back at him, biting his lip nervously.

“Hey, Eds.”

“Hey, Stevie.”

“Been a bit,” Steve swallowed. He didn’t actually know what he was trying to accomplish here. All he knew was there had to be a reason he was wearing Steve’s sweater. It wasn’t exactly his usual style. “Doing alright?”

The other woman seemed to catch onto what was going on, turning away and talking to the bartender instead.

“Um, yeah I guess.” Eddie was lying. Steve could always tell when he was lying. “You?”

“Been better,” Steve replied. “A little surprised to see you here. In that.”

Eddie looked down at what he was wearing and then up at Steve, cheeks red with embarrassment. “Laundry day.”

“Sure.” Steve sighed, rubbing his hand down his face. He just had to say something. Maybe closure would be good. “Can we talk somewhere else?”

Eddie nodded and started to walk to the back of the bar where the office and bathrooms were. Steve followed, assuming they’d go into the bathroom and hope no one came in. When Eddie led him into the office, Steve frowned.

“I don’t think we have permission to be in here.”

“I work here part time. Kim lets me take my breaks in here,” Eddie explained, closing the door behind them. “I didn’t know you liked this bar.”

“We’ve only been a few times,” Steve explained.

“Oh, you’ve um. You and your date?” Eddie was leaning against the desk, eyes cast down to his feet.

“No. Me and Robin.”

Eddie let out a shaky breath. “Right, good, yeah.”

“Eddie, look at me.” Steve stepped closer, could almost feel the heat coming off of Eddie’s body. Eddie looked up at him, eyes watery and bottom lip bitten red. “Why are you wearing my sweater?”

“I needed you.” Eddie’s broken voice was all Steve needed to close what little distance remained between them, pulling Eddie against him and holding him as tightly as he possibly could.

“I didn’t think you needed me anymore,” Steve said against his neck, trying not to get his hopes up despite Eddie’s tears now soaking his shirt. “You didn’t want me anymore.”

Eddie’s hands tightened in Steve’s shirt and Steve felt him shake his head. “I wanted you too much. I was scared how much I wanted you.”

“Are you still scared now?”

“Only that I don’t have you.”

Steve’s lips found Eddie’s, hopeful and desperate.

Eddie took control within seconds, turning them around so Steve was sitting on the corner of the desk, legs spread so Eddie could fit between them. Where he belonged.

As Eddie’s hands pushed Steve’s shirt up and Steve’s legs pulled him in impossibly closer, the thought that they were still in a public place occurred to Steve.

He ignored it as Eddie’s thumb brushed against his nipple and his teeth bit his bottom lip.

“Want you now,” Eddie groaned against Steve’s neck. “Want you forever.”

“Lock the door.” Steve ordered.

Eddie locked the door.

****

When they left the office, hair disheveled and suspicious stains on their shirts, they were met with a knowing look from Kim.

Eddie rolled his eyes and pushed Steve out the door by the small of his back.

“Still living with Wayne?” Steve asked.

“Yeah. Could we go to yours?” Eddie asked hesitantly.

“Only if it can be ours.”

Eddie stopped him on the sidewalk, eyes blinking furiously. “You would want that? After I left?”

Steve smiled. “Are you gonna leave again or are you gonna let me love you?”

“You can still love me?”

“I couldn’t not love you.”

“Then let’s go to ours.”

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddieweek24 #steddie week #exes to lovers #getting back together #idiots in love

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gh0stsp1d3r · 4 months ago

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𝒥𝓊𝓈𝓉…𝓈𝒽ℴ𝒸𝓀ℯ𝒹

req: Rafe X r. She has only had one boyfriend and that’s the only person she has been intimate with. Because of her more sweet introverted shy nature, he assumes that she has never done anal so Rafes jokes about “at least getting to claim her first somewhere else” but then gets so shocked when she confesses.

a/n: i thought of season one Rafe for this for some reason. Also im trying new formats lol my older ones sucked and im trying to figure out better ones. send some inspo maybe??

warnings: smut, fem!reader, possessive rafe, anal, a lil titty sucking (I’m not sorry) porn w plot, praise kink hehehe, names (baby, my girl)

MASTERLIST

divider below by @/plutism

“Hey,” Rafe rasped out from behind you, you jumping and turning to him. His hands went to your shoulders, eyes looking you up and down in your dress.

You thought that he was still in his room, you were clearly wrong. You had stayed the night at Tannyhill for Midsummers, and Ward insisted on you staying in the guest bedroom.

This was your first time seeing Rafe in this suit, and God, it was hot on him.

“Jesus, don’t scare me.” You pouted and gently shoved his chest, a playful smirk on his face. “But, hi.”

“You look good.” He told you, a smile also forming on your face at his compliment.

“You do too.” You replied shyly, cheeks burning at his compliment. You knew that look in his eyes all too well. That look of lust, of need, his eyes glossed over and turned a darker shade. He leaned in to kiss you, his hands traveling down your back, and to the curve of your ass.

You let out a little moan when he squeezed the flesh through your dress. When he pulled away, you shook your head. He pouted at you.

“C’mon. Just like… one round.” He tried, already trying to get you on the guest bed that you slept in for the night

“After.” You murmured against his lips, Rafe pulled away when he heard a knock on the door.

“Y/n, Rafe, c’mon! You’re gonna make us all late.” Ward spoke, you sighing. Rafe opened the door for you.

“Oh, you two look adorable.” Rose told you, a crooked smile on her face when you both walked out together.

You gave her a shy smile, Rafe turned to you, whispering something in your ear.

“Hey, we’re gonna spend the night at Top’s.” He told his dad. Ward just nodded and said goodbye, not thinking anything of it.

You giggled as he pulled you away from the crowd, and you both walked hand in hand down the street.

“Why are we staying at a hotel again?” You asked him, turning to look at the boy.

“Well, there’s only one reason, right?” He said with a smile on his face, turning to look at you.

“What’s that reason?”

“You don’t know the reason?” He teased. You shook your head.

“Just tell me!”

“Well, I’m gonna fuck the shit out of you. And then we are gonna go get drunk. As drunk as we possibly can.” He said shamelessly with a shrug, your cheeks burned up and you shook your head at his word choice, just glad that the buzzing cars and the sound of loud music blared through so no passerby’s could hear.

You both got the best room that money could buy, Rafe opening the door for you and leading you inside, smirk on his face.

He pushed you down on the bed, hovering on top of you, his lips traveled down your body.

“God, all fuckin’ mine, huh?” He murmured, more to himself. His hands went to your back, you arched your back and helped him shove the dress off of your body.

“At least I can claim you first somewhere else, right?” He murmured, smirk on his face as his eyes raked down your body, his hands working at his belt and pants.

“What does that mean?” You asked him with a quirked eyebrow.

“You lost your virginity to that other douche, right?”

“Yeah…” you trailed off, still very confused.

“He hasn’t fucked that ass, though.”

Your eyes widened, looking around the room. His hands were now tugging off his boxers before you started stuttering, holding a hand out.

“What? You don’t wanna?” He asked you, stopping and looking down at you, slightly afraid he scared you and did something wrong.

Usually you were up for everything, and you both had brought up the topic before and you said you wouldn’t mind it.

“No- no, I do, but- I…” you shut your eyes as you mumbled the words out, confessing to him. “He did.”

“What?” His eyes widened, movements stopping for a moment.

“He has before.”

“Shit.” He laughed out, running a hand through his hair. That was not what he expected.

“Are you mad?” You asked him quietly, opening your eyes now, looking up at him.

“Course not, baby.” He scoffed. “Just… shocked.“

“I’m sorry.” You murmured.

“Nah. That’s alright. Because it’s all fucking mine now, ain’t it?” He asked, lips back on your skin, leaning down to kiss your cheeks and your neck, you letting out a moan and nodding against him.

“Fuck. All mine.” He muttered against your collarbone, his lips moving against your boobs, he looked up at you as he swirled his tongue around your nipple, taking one in your mouth, making you let out a cry of his name and look back down at him.

He released it with a ‘pop’, going back down to your holes. He spit on his hand, before bringing it down to his cock, jerking it a few times with grunts and groans before lining it up with your tight hole.

Your hands went to his shoulders, letting out a gasp and a sob as he stretched your hole out.

“Shhh, shhh, shh..” he told you, groans escaping his mouth as he felt your walls clench onto him. “You’re a’ight.” He murmured, going to kiss you again, licking away your salty tears.

He sighed when he bottomed out, waiting for you to get adjusted to his size. After a while, you nodded against him. “You can move.” You whispered out, causing him to slowly start moving, a hand going to your clit, rubbing circles on the button, you letting out soft and quiet moans that were like music to his ears.

“God, you feel so good.” He told you, feeling you clench down harder on his length at his praise, a small smirk on his face. “My girl. Fuck,”

“Rafe!” You cried out, nails clawing at his bare back, sure to leave marks. “I’m gonna-“

“I know, I know.” He grunted out, feeling himself also come close, his fingers working faster on your clit, pressing down on it. That was all you needed to come undone, crying out his name and holding him closer, as he came in your ass with groans and grunts.

You both panted, foreheads put together as he started to laugh. You furrowed your eyebrow and looked at him, confused.

“We need to do that more often.”

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron blurb #obx fic #obx #obx smut #obx rafe cameron #rafe x you #rafe fanfiction #rafe smut #rafe x reader #rafe cameron imagines

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supershot73199 · 5 months ago

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Dpxdc prompt here.

Valerie goes to Gotham and gets a bat Boy/Girlfriend

So the setup for this is that Danny just got done helping the big bad bat with some big ghost themed problem. What was it? Doesn't matter but in the epic adventure that happened identities were revealed (its a good parent fentons so no adoption) and at the end Batman says "If there is anything I can do to return the favor let me know."

And Danny responds with "Actually there is something but it's something Bruce Wayne is better suited for."

Danny then goes on to explain what happened with Cujo and Valeries dad and how he's pretty sure that the way he was fired is illegal in some way. Now he's not asking for you to try to sue these guys but if Maybe you were able to offer him a job with a living wage so that Val doesn't have to stress so much since Danny can't do anything to fix this himself.

Bruce who had already planned to open some form of Wayne Tech branch in Amity to give him an excuse to be seen there if it was ever necessary just says he'll see what he can do.

So Damon Gray (also I love how he has such a similar name to a bat) gets a call from a Wayne tech hiring manager saying that they are opening a location in Amity and would like to interview him for a position. Damian gets the past the initial interview but he has to go to Gotham for a few weeks foe relevant training etc.

Obviously Valerie has to go with him so they pack up and are off on this all expenses paid trip with a bigger paycheck at the end to look forward to.

Now obviously Bruce's kids notice what is happening and after he explains that a young hero he met asked for his help in setting things right that he doesn't have the resources to do himself. Of course the kids have to meet the family that this (rather impressive from what Bruce was saying, which is not biased by him looking like he could be one of his kids no way) hero gave up a favor from the Batman for so they "just so happen" to stumble upon the two and in true batfam manner convince the tour guide to let them tag along.

Now here is where things get fun so depending on which bat you choose obviously determines who's all there as if you choose Dick then the only other bat's of that age would be young Jason and maybe Barbara if you drag her in. Now me personally I think the best choices are Damian who's not my favorite for this as I think Val would find it weird to date a guy who has such a similar name as her dad one of either Cass or Steph and while that could be fun i think the only Bat boy who as far as I'm aware has not had a badass vigilante girlfriend who can snap him like a twig so far is Duke.

Now some other reasons I think it might be fun for Duke and Val as a couple is maybe he can see the changes her red huntress suit causes to her with his powers thus leading to that initial curiosity that causes him to spend more time with her to get to the bottom of it.

Maybe she asks one of the Wayne's if they know somewhere she can get a good spar and the others sacrifice Duke as he's got the least experience under his belt (not saying he's a bad fighter but some of these bats have been fighting since before puberty) since they assume she's just a standard civi. He tries to hold back since again civi, but she knocks him on his ass before he can react before saying she probably should have mentioned being a black belt.

Just think of all the cute moments they could have together.

One interaction I thought of for after they know each other's vigilante identity and val learns Danny is why Bruce reached out to her Dad. (She knows he is Phantom in this)

"So that dork went out of his way to ask Batman for help even after I finally pulled my head out of my ass to see it wasn't his fault? Of course he still feels guilty over it, damn Martyr complex, we aren't even dating anymore!"

"You guys dated?"

"Yeah in civis while I was actively hunting him for revenge in our hero ids. Who dates a girl actively trying to kill you?!"

"Can't blame him."

"What?"

#danny phantom #dp x dc #dc x dp #dpxdc #dcxdp #dp x dc crossover #duke thomas and Valarie gray #do they have a ship name #if not i like either #gray lights #light huntress

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often-daydreaming · 6 months ago

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Road Trip

It was... It was always just a fight but the last one between Jason and Bruce had been one of their worst and things only escalated after he accused Jason of having something to do with the Joker's disappearance.

It was another thing to hold against him. Another excuse to keep the Red Hood at arms length but Barbara knows Jason wasn't anywhere near Gotham when the clown went missing. Bruce checked. Tim double checked, but she knows because it wasn't like Jason was even trying to hide from any of them.

He was just traveling.

At first it was with the rest of the Outlaws for a bit and on and off after for a while afterwards with the rest of his team joining up at different points along his trip across the country.

He'd spent weeks spent on the road from New York to Pennsylvania before anyone even noticed the Joker was gone, then took a detour down to Atlanta and through Kentucky. The weekend after that was spent traveling between Michigan and Toronto and a surprising sighting in Kansas which was one of the only stops she still didn't understand since he'd have to be traveling all night just to get to that small town he'd been spotted in and Jason didn't seem to be in any hurry.

A part of her had been tempted to call Kara and see if she'd look into the matter for her but cases kept piling up and they got busy. If it wasn't the usual villain of the day causing trouble then it was the power vacuum left behind by the still missing Joker or one the guys getting into trouble. So she left it alone.

Jason didn't seem like he was in any trouble. He'd come back sooner or later. He always came back. Except he didn't. Weeks turned into months, then a full year passed them by as sightings of the Red Hood grew less and less frequent and it was only a preemptive notification she sat up so long ago that reminded her of Jason's absence as she stares down at the computer monitor playing a few seconds of footage displaying a small crowd of people, the Outlaws, some of Young Justice and the Titans along with a few other people who were cheering him on as he slipped a ring on some red haired woman's finger. The context was clear enough but she didn't find out more about the what and why until later that night when Roy sent out an update to the rest of the Titans claiming dibs on being the best man.

The above is just something that I cobbled together after reading a few Jason leaves Gotham fics and the thought of Jazz killing the Joker for (insert reasons) so my mind kind of jumped to Jason living out his best Cinderella moment, chasing after, flirting (along with getting threatened by a pair of overprotective parents) and road tripping with his team while trying to find the woman who lost her bloody baseball bat. After they meet he's just doubling down on everything with the intent of marrying her, Jazz getting her own little road trip, telling Jason where they're going next or even making a game out of if he can find her at the next stop on the Fenton family supernatural hunting/cataloging road trip cause I know they love talking about ghost but the image of Jack and Maddie fighting Bigfoot is amazing.

And the Fentons are happy for the two of them. At least he wasn't another Johnny. They had Tucker check just to be sure while everyone else just kind of assumes the rest of the bat family already knew when it was actually a mix of (we're super busy right now) and (maybe things will be a little peaceful if we give Jason some space) leaving Bruce trying to play catch up and depending on if he's reformed having to outdo Vlad who is already paying for everything.

#dc x dp #dp x dc #dp x dc prompt

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afictionaladventure16 · 7 months ago

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Safe & Sound (Tim Bradford x Adopted!Teen!Reader)

The Rookie Masterlist

Summary: While Tim and Lucy are on their first date, Y/N and Tamara face some challenges that ends with the realization that Y/N's past has come back to her new life.

Author's Note: I know Tamara technically doesn't find out that Tim and Lucy are dating until later on but uhhh this is fiction so yee. All requests are open!

Warnings: Mentions of fights and stabbing

Word Count: 4,630

You watched from the distance as your dad tried on different dress shirts in his bedroom. You had seen your father go on many first dates… maybe ‘many’ is an exaggeration, but that was beside the point, the point was that you had never seen him this nervous. He looked like a girl trying to find the right dress for the school dance, you couldn’t help but smile. He was in love.

You pulled out your phone, sending a quick text to Tamara

He’s a mess, you sent.

A few seconds later your phone buzzed in your hands,

So is she lol.

You couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle, “What’s so funny?” Your dad asked as he gave you a quick glance.

You shook your head, “you guys have no idea how nervous you both are.”

He sighed, “Should I call her?” You gave him a nod. Tim gave you a smile, “First, what do you think?” he raised up a dark grey shirt next to a light gray one.

You rolled your eyes, “Does it even matter?”

“What if it clashes with her outfit?” He asked. After the two years you had lived with the man, this was the first time you had heard him say that phrase.

“I think all that matters is that you both are enjoying the date,” you suggested.

Tim looked at you with a smile on his face. After Isobel, he felt so lost within himself and somehow he found himself becoming a foster father to a young ten-year-old. It was only a year later that he began the adoption process. It was a long one, especially with the history with Isobel, he had waited a year and a half until the adoption was finalized. It was the best day of his life and he knows that there will be other days in his future that will try to complete, but he will always hold that day close to his heart. It was the day he learned how to be himself again, the day he learned that family didn’t always have to be by blood.

Now you were fourteen, looking forward to your fifteenth birthday coming up soon. A day that Angela was so busy preparing for because she knew as a Latina that you had to have a quinceanera, and Tim always tried his best to help you grow within your culture. It was one of the main reasons why he learned Spanish.

He let out a sigh as he reached for his phone, “do you-”

“If you don’t call her right now, I will call her myself, but I will video call her so she can see-”

“Alright, alright!” Tim chuckled as he dialed Lucy’s number.

You walked out of the room, sending Tamara another text.

I’m assuming you’re coming over with pizza? You sent.

You know me too well.

Ever since you met Tamara, she has been like an older sister. Maybe it was because the two of you were in the system and bonded over the traumatic shit both went through. Or because you both lived with cops that took you in and, although Chen is technically just her roommate, they were now your family.

Tim walked out of his room minutes later, “Alright, I am just a phone call away. Don’t forget to let Kojo out and please tell Tamara I said hi. Um- Am I forgetting anything?” He asked as he began patting his pants pockets.

“Keys and they’re in the key bowl by the door,” you stated as you scrolled through Netflix, Tim walked over to the key bowl, rolling his eyes as he grabbed his keys, “Bold of you to assume Tamara is coming over.”

“Is she not?” He asked.

“No, she is,” you smiled.

“That’s what I thought,” he sighed, “Don’t open the door for anyone but Tamara. You know the drill, make sure it’s her before you even op-”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, Can you go already so we can get this whole Lucy and Tim being continuously nervous over with?”

Tim took in a small breath, he couldn’t help but catch that you had called him by his first name. It had been two years already and you were still calling him Tim. Of course, he didn’t know how to tell you that calling him dad was okay with him and he didn’t want you to feel pressured to do so; but just hearing it would mean everything to him.

He gave you a small nod, “Call me if anything, alright? And make sure to turn on the alarm when I leave.”

“Yes, sir,” you watched as he walked out of the house, you waited for the sound of the lock before turning back around to continue your scrolling.

Twenty minutes later, you heard the doorbell ring, which was then followed by a phone call.

You quickly answered, “I assume you’re outside,” you said as you got up from the couch.

“Your assumptions are correct,” Tamara said. You opened the door to let Tamara in. She had been carrying a bag, of what you assumed is junk food, along with a box of pizza. “Alright, so I found this new candy that you just have to try!”

You locked the door behind Tamara, “Alright, but first I need a slice of pizza because I am starving!” You followed Tamara as she walked into the kitchen to put down the box of pizza. You instantly opened it and grabbed a slice, “I can’t believe I watched Tim go through every single nice shirt in his closet like he didn’t even do that on his first date with Asley!”

“Oh, you think that’s bad? Lucy’s whole closet is now on her bed,” Tamara commented as she unpacked the bag of junk food. “Do you guys have sodas?”

“Yeah, in the fridge,” you gestured towards the fridge. Tamara helped herself, as she always does when she comes over, and she came over quite a bit. “Why do you call your dad by your first name?” Tamara blurted out.

You shrugged, “I dunno, I guess… I guess I just feel like I am not allowed to call him dad.”

“But he adopted you”

“Yeah, but… I don’t know. I’ve wanted to, I just feel like I lost the moment to do so since it’s been two years since the adoption.” Tamara opened the box for a slice of pizza, “Has he talked to you about it? Or Lucy?”

Tamara looked down, “I know Lucy’s mentioned it. Something about he feels like he’s doing something wrong.”

You sighed, “What do you think?”

“I’m the last person you want to ask that.” You gave her a pleading look, and she let out a sigh, “Look, if it were me, the timing wouldn’t matter. He gave you a family, a home, he made you feel loved after everything you had been through in life… in a way, he gave you a second chance that not a lot of us get.”

She was right and you knew that. It had meant a lot coming from Tamara since she never got the opportunity to get this chance. She would argue that she did when Lucy took her in, but in a way it was different.

“Should I just do it randomly? Like just ‘Good morning, dad,’ just nonchalant about it?” You asked.

“Something like that,” Tamara smiled, “You’ll know how to do it when you feel ready and I think you know that you are.”

The two of you ate pizza and watched Game of Thrones for the next hour. At some point, you had gotten up and let Kojo out to the backyard, he had been whining by the door for a while. Tamara had taken that opportunity to get up to grab some snacks when all the lights went out, you looked over at Tamara.

“Whoa,” She exclaimed.

“This is fine,” you stated as you got up from the couch. “Tim usually keeps a flashlight in a drawer in the kitchen,” you walked over to the kitchen, rummaging through the drawers. It didn’t take you long to find the flashlight. You shined it at Tamara who had her phone flashlight on.

Tamara sighed as she walked over to the window, “That’s weird.”

“What?” you walked over to her. You were quick to notice that the houses across the street still had power.

“Looks like the neighbors next door also have power,” Tamara pointed out. You looked over at the neighbors to your left, she was right, “Did Tim forget to pay something?”

You scoffed, “No, he’s pretty good at paying the bills on time.”

The sound of the floorboard creaking caused the two of you to quickly turn your heads, “I didn’t move,” Tamara whispered.

“Neither did I,” you whispered back. You felt your heart leap into your throat, “Maybe I should call Tim,” you whispered as you took your phone out of your pocket. As soon as you had unlocked it you noticed the no bar signal on the top right corner. “Fuck,” you whispered. Kojo was scratching at the door, whining to get back in.

“What?”

You showed her your phone, “I have no signal.”

“W-what? How?”

You looked around for something to use as a weapon, “I’ve heard Tim mentioned this before. Some people use jammers in order to block a phone’s signal.”

“You think someone is-” You held up your finger, Tamara stopped talking. The two of you fell silent, listening to the floorboards creaking increasingly.

“We need to get out of here,” you whispered. You glanced over at the door, “I’m gonna grab kojo-”

“No, if Tim were here he’d want you out, Kojo can fend for himself,” Tamara stated. Tamara quietly walked over to the kitchen grabbing a pan that was on the stove. You slowly walked through the living room, you knew Tim had a bat lying around somewhere for emergencies.

What happened next was a blur. One second you were looking over at Tamara as she inched closer to the front door and the next you were on the ground and you heard yelling. You fought back as the person who was attacking you pulled out a knife. You were trying your best to use the techniques Tim had shown you, but this man was tougher than you had ever imagined. You knew that it wasn’t an excuse, that even if he was tougher and bigger than you, you had to find a way to defend yourself.

“I got the other one,” you heard another voice yell out. You hadn’t realized there were two of them.

You looked over at where Tamara was, “Tamara, run!” You yelled out. You could see the hesitation in her, “Go!”

Tamara felt like running would be the biggest mistake, but she knew there was no way of getting help by staying here. The second man inched closer to her, she swung the pan that she had in her hands, hitting the man in the head, it was enough to stun him so she could get a running start. She ran out of the house and into the neighbor's front yard, running up to the door; she began banging on it, “Help!”

You, on the other hand, were trying to get out of the man's grip. You sucked in a breath knowing that you had to do something you never wanted to do. You opened your mouth and bit the man's arm as hard as you could, he let out a loud yell and let go of you.

“You bitch!” he yelled out as he lunged towards you with his knife.

You lunged away from him, trying to dodge the knife, but he was bigger than you and still quicker than you. You felt a sharp pain in your side, “What the fuck did you do, Rick?!” The other guy asked as he came back inside. “Do you have any idea what he’ll do to us if we bring her in like this?” You reached down to where you felt the pain coming from, feeling something sticky. The more you touched it, the more pain you felt. Your knees buckled and you fell to the ground.

“Fuck,” the man named Rick, looked at the knife and then at you. “I-I can fix this.”

“No! Forget it! It’s been compromised! We have to go, the other girl ratted us out!” The man began to make his way to the back door. “Let’s go!” he yelled out again. You lay on the ground, watching as the blurry image of them ran out of the house.

Tim couldn’t help but look towards the door every other second. Was part of him worried someone from the station would see him? Yes. But also, he had a habit of looking at the door every time someone walked in, especially when he was nervous.

“Are you worried someone from the station is gonna walk in?” Lucy asked.

“What?”

“You are,” Lucy said in disbelief.

“No, I-”

“Wow.”

“What are the odds?”

Lucy rolled her eyes, “It’s likely.” She cleared her throat, she didn’t want to have this discussion right now. “So, Y/N’s quince is coming up, how is that coming?”

“Good, good. I um probably going to be in debt for the next year so you can expect a nice Christmas card from us rather than nothing but emptiness inside.”

Lucy chuckled, “Angela is running you dry with this quince.”

“That she is. Anything Y/N wants, she gets. I swear she spoils her like she's her own kid.”

Lucy smiled, “I’ve noticed.” Lucy’s phone began to ring, she took it out, letting out a small chuckle at the sight of the name. “It’s Tamara, the girls are probably trying to check in on us,” she rolled her eyes. “Should I let it go to voicemail?”

Tim wanted to say yes let it go to voicemail, but there was a voice in the back of his head telling him not to. “Answer it,” he smiled, “Two can play this game,” he teased.

Lucy placed the phone on speaker, “Before you even ask, yes we are still at the restaurant and no I am not bringing you leftovers, I know you guys had pizza,” Lucy said with a hint of laughter behind her voice.

“Lucy,” Tamara cried out.

Lucy and Tim’s facial expressions changed, “Tamara, what’s wrong?” Tim spoke up.

“It all happened so quickly,” Tamara began.

“Just take a deep breath, Tamara,” Lucy began, “What happened?”

Tamara let out a soft sob, “Someone broke in the house. They cut the power and we had no way to call anyone. I-I ran to the neighbors for help, but Y/N was still inside, I-I’m sorry, I couldn’t get to her.”

Tim felt his chest tightened, suddenly this world no longer felt safe. In all his years working as an officer, he never imagined this to happen. Yes, he was prepared for it, or so he thought he was, but now, this world was more of a menacing place than he had realized.

Tim wanted to tell Tamara that it was okay, but he couldn’t, because to him, nothing was okay at the moment. He had failed the one promise he had kept to himself the day he took you in and that was to keep you safe. Now the one day he decided to be vulnerable and comfortable, it all came crashing down.

Tim got up from his seat, “Where are you?” Lucy asked.

“St. Vincents,” He heard Tamara say as he left a few bills on the table and began walking away. Lucy told Tamara that they’d be there in a few before catching up with Tim.

“Tim,” Lucy began, you could hear the pain within her voice. “Tim,” Lucy pleaded. Tim quickly turned around as they got outside. “I’m driving,” Lucy stated as the exited the restaurant.

“No-”

“No,” Lucy exclaimed as she got in front of Tim, “you’re not in the right mindset to be driving right now.” Tim opened his mouth to argue with her, “I’m driving.”

Tim closed his mouth and gave her a nod. They got into Lucy’s car and drove off to the hospital. Lucy broke a few laws that day, but Tim probably would’ve broken a hundred just to get there sooner. Tim didn’t wait for the car to be fully parked to hop out, he was already inside the emergency room making his way to the receptionist when Lucy made her way into the hospital.

“My daughter was just brought in, her name is-”

“Tim,” Lucy choked out, her eyes had landed on a horrific sight in front of her.

“Lucy!” Tamara called out, Tim turned around just in time to see Tamara running over to Lucy. He looked around for you, hoping to see you running up to him, but his heart sank deeper every second that passed. He walked over to the girls, his eyes landed on what Lucy was focusing on.

“Oh God,” he let out a shaky breath, as he watched nurses surrounding work on your wounds. He ran up to you, one hand grabbing yours and the other brushing the hair out of your face. “Y/N, sweetie, it’s me,” Tim began, “I'm here, okay?” he brought your hand up to his lips and placed a small kiss on them. He felt the tears begin to stream down his cheeks. “Is she going to be okay?”

One of the nurses let out a deep sigh, “The stab wound barely missed one of her aorta’s by an inch, it did knick her one of her lungs causing her to loose a significant amount of blood.” one of the other nurses began to lift the handles on the side.

“We’ll be needing to take her up to surgery now, to repair the damages,” another nurse said.

Tim couldn’t find the strength to let go, but he knew he had to. “Tim,” Lucy began, “they need to take her.” She placed a loving hand on his shoulder.

Tim felt tears begin to well up in his eyes, he placed a small kiss on your forehead, “We’ll get through this okay? You can’t leave me.”

Lucy felt like the villain as she pulled Tim away from you, but she knew he wouldn’t have been able to do it on his own.

Tim looked over at Tamara, “What happened?”

Tamara let out a small sob, “I-I don’t know. One second we were watching Game of Thrones and the next the power goes off.” She took in a deep breath, “We decided it was safer to be outside of the house once we realized we had no signal, she wanted to get Kojo but I told her to just leave him outside and that’s when they attacked her. I should’ve stayed with her,” she looked at Tim with remorseful eyes, “I’m so sorry, she told me to run, but I should’ve stayed.”

Tim shook his head, “No, you got help, if it weren’t for you, you both would’ve probably been worse off.”

“Tim,” Lucy called as she spotted Sgt. Grey walks towards them.

“Sir,” Tim began.

“I came as fast as I could, How is she?” he asked.

Tim sighed, shaking his head, “She’s in surgery, the stab wound hit one of her lungs.”

Sgt. Grey shook his head, before turning to Tamara, “We’re going to need your statement if you’re up to it, if not we can always wait for tomorrow.”

“I think after all they’ve been through, I think it’s best if we wait for tomorrow,” Lucy chimed in.

Tamara gave him a nod, “Tomorrow it is.” Sgt. Grey stated. He looked over at Tim, he noticed he hadn’t said much. His eyes were focused on the double doors where they had just wheeled you through. He walked closer to Tim as Lucy and Tamara walked over to some nearby chairs to sit down. “How are you holding up?” Sgt. Grey asked.

Tim shook his head, “I wasn’t there.”

“And you won’t always be there,” Sgt. Grey confirmed. “You can’t always be there, it’s one of the things we have to get used to when being a parent. We have to hope we raise them with enough knowledge so they know what to do in situations like this.” He let out a sigh, “trust me, it isn’t easy.”

Tim nodded, “I’ve noticed.”

“You let me know if you need anything,” Sgt. Grey gave Tim a soft smile before walking over to the nurse's station. Tim walked over to Lucy, sitting down beside her. No words were exchanged and somehow he preferred it this way. Lucy held his hand, squeezing it every once in a while as if she were checking in on him and he would squeeze back.

Tim felt like he had been waiting for days when in reality it had only been an hour. His eyes never left the double doors that were ahead of them, his body would jump every time someone would walk through them.

Eventually, a man in scrubs walked through them, his eyes scanning the lobby of people waiting to be seen or waiting for a patient. “Family of Y/N Bradford?” He called out.

Tim quickly got up from his seat, “I’m her father,” he quickly stated as he walked up to the man. “How is she?”

“Hello, I’m Dr. Avery, I was the lead surgeon. I am happy to say that the surgery was a success,” Tim let out a relieved sigh. “We’ll need to keep her for a few days for observation of course, but she’ll be good to go home after.”

Tim smiled at the man, “Thank you, when can I see her?”

“She’s in recovery right now, I can only allow one visitor,” The doctor stated.

Tim looked at Lucy, “Go, we’ll come back in the morning,” Lucy said.

“Do you mind stopping by my place and picking up Kojo? I think Y/N would kill me if she knew he stayed the night outside.”

Lucy let out a small chuckle, “Yeah, we’ll pick him up.”

“I’ll have you follow me,” the doctor gestured for Tim to follow him.

Tim followed Dr. Avery to the recovery room, he knew this hospital too well to know where he was going, but he never thought he would have to be here for a reason like this and he never wanted to be in this hospital again unless it was for work. Once he got to the room, the doctor left to finish up some paperwork.

Tim sat beside the bed, he gently held your hand. You looked so fragile to him as if you were a newborn, he was scared that one wrong move would hurt you. He waited by your bedside throughout the night. The morning sunlight began to peak through the windows, causing him to wake up. He gave you a small glance, sighing once he realized you were still asleep.

He leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes once again, hoping to get some extra sleep.

You began to stir, you could feel the pain in your abdomen and you heard beeping. Slowly opening your eyes, beginning to realize that you were now in the hospital, the last thing you remember was watching the two men run out of the house. “Dad?” you called out with panic in your voice.

Tim’s eyes darted open, “Hey,” he said as he sat up in his chair. He grabbed your hand, he was overjoyed that you were awake, but also overjoyed of the fact that you had just called him dad for the first time. Although he was trying to hide his excitement because he didn’t know how to react to it, he had been waiting for this moment for so long and now it was here but the situation was overshadowing it.

“How are you feeling?” He asked.

“Like shit,” you stated.

You winced as you tried to sit up, “Let’s try not to do that for now, alright? I know you’re uncomfortable, but I can get the nurses in-”

You waved your hand to stop him, “No, I’m fine.”

“You want to talk about what happened?” He asked.

You shrugged, “It all happened so quickly. The lights went out and Tamara noticed that the neighbors had electricity and that’s when we tried to call you, but our phones had no signal.”

“Looks like they used a jammer,” Tim speculated.

“That’s what I thought, we decided to leave but I wanted to get Kojo-”

“Kojo can take care of himself,” he stated.

“Tamara said you would say that, but someone attacked me as I got into the living room. Tamra was already at the door and she hit the other guy with a pan before running to the neighbors. I used all the techniques you taught me,” you felt tears well up in your eyes, “I tried-”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. You fought back and you’re alive. That’s what matters right now,” Tim placed a kiss on the top of your head.

“I remember one more thing,” you began. “When the guy that attacked me stabbed me, the other guy got mad. He said ‘Do you have any idea what he’ll do to us if we bring her in like this?’ in those exact words.”

Tim felt the panic rush through his body, if his gut was right, he knew what these men were talking about. “Do you think they were planning on taking me?” You asked.

Tim didn’t want you panicking, he didn’t want you to feel like you couldn’t be safe because someone was looking for you. “I don’t think so,” he began, “But Angela is on the case, you’ll tell her what you told me and we’ll get this straightened out.” You nodded, “Now, how about we talk about the elephant in the room.”

You looked at him with a confused expression “What elephant?”

“You called me dad,” he smiled.

You rolled your eyes, “I can go back to calling you Tim.”

He chuckled, “No, no, it’s about time you called me dad. I was starting to worry you weren’t going to.”

“I felt like I lost my chance to do so,” you confessed.

“Honestly, if you had waited twenty years to call me dad, I would probably be sad that you waited twenty years but, overjoyed that you did,” he smiled.

“Be honest with me,” You began. “There isn’t anyone from my past that’s looking for me right?” You hadn’t spoken about your past in a few years, it was something you wanted to leave behind. “The last thing I need is these fantasmas (ghosts) coming back,” you added.

Tim sighed, “I don’t know, but you have me there and I can promise that from here on out–”

You shook your head, “You can promise to keep me safe but let’s face it, you’re not there with me when I’m at school or when you’re at work.”

“You’re right, I’m not. But I’m a cop. I have my ways and I know you too well.”

You smiled, “Yeah, I think you do.”

“Plus, if anyone does kidnap you, they’ll return you in two minutes.”

Your face turned into shock, “Wh-what?”

“Trust me, I don’t think they’ll be able to stand the twenty questions they’ll be getting from you or even the karaoke. I give them two minutes before they return you,” you let out a small laugh before you winced in pain. Tim sighed, he knew no matter what that he was going to protect you, and if he failed to do so, he was going to do everything he possibly could do, to get you back.

#The rookie fanfic #tim bradford x reader #tim bradford x y/n #the rookie #tim bradford x teen!reader #tim bradford x adopted #tim bradford angs #tim bradford angst #tim bradford x adopted!teen!reader #tim bradford imagine #tim bradford x lucy chen #tim bradfor x you #tim bradford #dad!tim bradford x teen!reader #tim bradford x teen!reader angst #tim bradford the rookie

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thatnonameuser · 21 days ago

Text

The Red King holds a Bleeding Head

A Wonderland of Yanderes - Masterlist Chapter 1. Heartslaybul Part 6.

So this is strange.

Last time you came here, Alice recognised you and the card soldiers didn't. And now, someone barely mentioned in your childhood storybooks was standing her before you.

Instead of the tiny animated King that the Queen of Hearts could crush underneath her foot should he ever raise his voice, an actual person was cowering and shivering in fear and anxiety, at the thought of his over-controlling wife finding out about you.

This world just kept getting more and more strange....

<Y-you need to l-leave. I-If she loses h-her temper, you'll lose- > He stammers, trying and failing to push you back into the mirror. The glass remains hard, will it be like that till you wake up? Probably.

"I'll lose my head, I get the jist." Why did he notice you? He wasn't mentioned in the original story until the Queen of Hearts was introduced, so why was he here? "I want to leave but......where exactly is here? And please don't tell me some riddle..."

<You're in the Queen's Rose Garden....b-but how did you even get in here? T-The guards sh-should have stopped y-you> You watch him nervously twist his hold on the cape, and if holds it any tighter it might rip in his grip.

"Probably the same way Alice got here-"

His face blanches, turning so white that it rivals the white petals of the roses. <Who....Who's Alice?>

"She's a girl lost in here, she's supposed to be painting the roses with some of the guards, I haven't seen her since-Mmph!" The Red King slaps a palm over your mouth mid sentence, his eyes widening with terror. You can't hear anything, but you can feel the hand over your mouth start to shake violently.

<Th-the girl....I need to get her out before she finds her!> He takes off running into the depths of the rose garden. Well, the dream brought you here for some reason, maybe he is.

"Hey! Wait up!" You chase after him, because what other choice do you have? Whatever the mirror wanted to show you, what you'd seen already clearly wasn't it.

The Red King disappears around a corner, which you follow only to skid to a stop. You arrived at the original rose garden from your first dream, and it's now filled with dozens of card soldiers. You take a few steps back until you're somewhat hidden by the bushes. Maybe it's best to heed the King's warning, especially with who's in it right now.

Wielding a massive rosebush of red and half painted roses, over her head in anger, with the roots of the bush still clinging to some of the dirt it had been planted in, is the Queen of Hearts.

<For painting my roses red, someone will lose his head!> She looks exactly like the statue in the main street, and her colors have been drained to match the greyscale environment around you. The only color, still a deep red, makes up her dress. She reminds you of the tiny animated King of Hearts.

And she's infuriated.

A paint covered Alice is at her feet with the card soldiers from earlier, who cower fearfully.

<Y-Your Majesty, if anyone's to blame, it's him!> <Have mercy, Your Grace. It was the Ace!> <Gah, no, it was the TWO!> <It was the Three, I say!> The card soldiers are quick to turn on each other, desperate to escape the Queen's wrath.

<Enough of this. Off with ALL their HEADS!> The Queen's voice booms with rage, and a part of you thinks she's going to save herself time with a beheading, and just beat them to death with her rose bushes.

The Red King runs in between with the Queen and her future victims, trying to shield them from his angry 'wife', though captor might be more appropriate. <D-Dear please, they were just trying to correct their mistake!> He tries to reason with her, but as you watch her grip tighten around the rose bushes, it's safe to assume he's doing the opposite.

<Winston, are you disobeying me?> The Queen's voice is deathly low, as if threatening the King, or Winston, to choose his next words carefully.

You watch Winston's face morph into one of abject terror. <No! NO! Of course not! I-I would nev- >

The Queen's hand shoots out and grips his ruffled collar pulling him close, but like a movie you can still hear what she says despite it being a quiet hiss of a threat. <Then, I suggest you hold your tongue before you lose it along with your HEAD!> She yells that last part, just terrifies the person she's supposed to call her 'one true love' more.

Winston looks like he's going to pass out from fear, and even from this far away, you can see him trembling and hear his shakey reply, <Y-Yes, dear. I-I'm sorry.>

The Queen smiles, triumphant, pressing a soft peck to the still terrified and trembling Winston's cheek, either ignoring the evident fear on his face or not caring, before her rage comes forth full strength. <NOW OFF WITH ALL THEIR HEADS>

<Ooooooh! Yaaaaay!>The surrounding card soldiers cheer at the death sentence. The Red Queen smiles in glee at the reception to her verdict, while her husband's eyes meet yours.

Terrified. He's terrified. Why is this considered love, this is just abuse.

<Hee hee hee.> The Queen's even laughing, for shit's sake!! How in the hell was this romanticized! In any way!

The cards start to sing, and it's a chilling tune.

The world starts to fade around you. Are you waking up? But you still don't know what's going on here. Why was the mirror showing you this anyway?

Was it trying to convince you this world was even worse than it was?! Because it worked.

You open your eyes to your bedroom ceiling. The sunshine from outside tells you it's dawn. "It was just roses. Why didn't anyone try to help Winston? Why didn't anyone else try to stop the Queen?" You mutter.

You sit up and stare at the window, now normal. Not glowing, no ripples. Slipping Grim from your arms, you slip out of the blankets and approach the mirror. Setting your palm on the glass, it doesn't do anything. It doesn't faze through or pull you into another world.

"So......was it all just a dream?" You don't even have an answer to that, and you're just as confused as you were before. Why do you keep dreaming things like this? What was the point of seeing the life that poor Winston lived?

Is.....Is there someone watching? Is there someone watching you and sending you these? As a warning or to help?

But the contents of your dream, minus what Winston was going through, felt similar to reality. Riddle had kicked out Ace for a petty reason. Sure, it was theft, but it wasn't something worth taking someone's magic over. And if your experience from lunch yesterday held any water, then the card soldiers of Heartslabyul were just complicit. Willing to stand aside if it meant keeping their heads, or in this case, their magic.

But since today's the unbirthday party, let's hope your reality doesn't mimic your dream.

You're still lost in thought about your dream as you push through your morning routine. You're no expert on bad omens, but this feels like a bad omen. Like a really bad omen.

To be honest, you didn't have very high hopes for today. Not because you thought Ace was going to supremely fuck it up, but because having high hopes shot you in the foot yesterday and that was a really long and grueling day. And a little because you thought someone was going to fuck things up.

Mornings are hard enough when you know that you have a long day ahead of you. It's even harder when that long day might involve a lost head.

So when Ace finally pulled himself out of bed, or rather off your couch, while Deuce was using your bathroom, you weren't expecting much.

You also weren't expecting him to take you by surprise while you made breakfast.

He also probably wasn't the punishment of having a rubber spatula slapped across his face.

"What the hell, Ace!" You scream, your once clean uniform now covered in pancake batter from when you jumped in surprise. "Don't scare me like that!"

You're just glad you are making pancakes when he sets his hands on your shoulders instead of taking the pan out because that pan would have probably made a permanent indent in his skull.

“Jumpy much, Prefect?” He laughs, massaging the reddening bruise forming on his face.

You groan, “And to think I bothered to make you breakfast….”

Ace’s eyes brighten at the mention of food. “Well, don’t mind if I-”

You snatch the plate out of reach and let a teasing smile cross your face, “Well, I guess you can wait till the party to eat then. Since you’re fine with scaring the person feeding you…”

“Fine, fine, I’m sorry ______.” He puts on his most apologetic looking face as he ‘apologizes’, and it’s so melodramatic that it makes you laugh, “Food, please.”

You hand them over with a laugh, “Just don’t finish them, the Great Grim will be very hangry if he doesn’t get his tower of pancakes in the morning.”

Ace stuffs one into his mouth, before his eyes widen, “D’l’shush.” He says with his mouth full, and swallows before continuing, “Can you cook for me everyday, Prefect?”

You wipe the stray batter from your vest, there goes your last clean shirt. “Will it stop you from stealing your dorm leader’s tarts?”

“You aren’t letting that go, are you?”

“Nope.” You say with a teasing smile on your face, before turning back to breakfast making. A peaceful start to the morning is nice. It’s probably going to get hectic later on, so you’ll enjoy it while it lasts.

“Hey, uh, Prefect, can I ask you something?” Ace pauses mid-sentence for some reason, “Something important.”

There it is, “Sure, what’s up?”

“Do you remember what we talked about last night?” You stop to think for a second. You remember Ace and Deuce talking last night but not what it was about. You occasionally dragged into it, but you responded with one word answers. Now you wish you hadn’t. But you were so tired last night.

“N-Not really.” You curse yourself mentally for the stutter, but you feel the peaceful feeling leech away from your body. You don’t like where this is going.

“We talked about you a lot last night. You didn’t seem to notice.” And now you really didn’t like where this was going. “Juice told me about what happened on Main Street after you went to bed.”

You can feel Ace’s stare through your back. Please don’t go down this street. Please. “Y-Yeah about the delinquents….”

“Yeah, we talked about that but I’m talking about what you told him.” Dammit Deuce, you knew that Ace and Deuce are slowly growing into their friendship, but if Deuce was obsessed with you, why the hell was he telling Ace about your private conversations.

But Deuce is a yandere that doesn’t know about how to be a yandere. Because his mother, seven bless her, had tried to shield him from the influence that probably made her own life hell for a time. And Ace is a yandere who does know about this stuff.

Who better to ask than your knowledgeable roommate.

“About what?” You can feel your heart speed up.

“About your home world.” The grate of a chair on the floor tells you that he stood up, followed by footsteps tell you that he is so much closer. “You’re burning the pancakes Prefect.”

“Shit!” You snap out of your stupor, tossing the burnt pan into the nearby sink. Great, this is going splendidly. “W-What about my homeworld?”

You can feel Ace’s breath by your ear, he’s that close. You can feel a hand on your shoulder, and you tense. “About how your world sees darlings and stuff. Do they really punish what we do?”

He’s suspicious. Fuck, he’s suspicious. You should have asked Deuce to keep it a secret. But that could have made you suspicious to him. Talk about a Catch 22.

“Yeah….it’s,” You turn to face him. Your face is so close to his. It’s that stupid collar that grants you some distance. “It’s complicated.”

“Yeah, it probably is, is that why you freaked out in class? Because what’s allowed in our world isn’t in your world ____?”

Um…”Yes?”

“But why were you scared?” Okay, you are taking back all of your ‘Ace is an idiot’ comments. He’s actually very perceptive. And to you, that’s a bad thing.

Ace studies you as you reply “I-I thought murder was going a little far..?”

Ace smiles at that and a sigh of relief bubbles into your throat. “Yeah, I get that, my dad told me he’d be pissed if I killed someone on campus.” Phew.

“After all, it’s not like you’re hiding something Prefect. I mean you have this charm to you that pulls people to you, it would be terrible if someone thought you were a darling." Do you agree? Why does it feel like this is a trick? You hold your face as calm as possible, given your pulsating heart beat. If this is a test, you are not failing it.

“Yeah, it would be. But it’s not.” You cross your arms in an attempt to exude dominance but like the last time you still feel a little small.

“But if you were, It’s not like I’d do anything to ya, Prefect.” He pulls you in closer in a ‘hug’, which it would be if his collar wasn’t in the way. “We’re friends, aren’t we?” Not really, you trust him as far as you can throw him, which isn’t even possible.

“If Prefect was what?” Deuce pokes his head in the kitchen, Grim is a bubbling mix of hangry in his arms.

“It’s nothing, Juice.” he pulls away from you and you can still feel chills. “Just if Prefect was a darling, we wouldn’t hurt her, right?” You hate how he gives you one of his friendly smirks when he finishes that statement.

“Oh, yeah we wouldn’t.” Deuce smiles at you. But it doesn’t soothe you. In fact, it makes the underlying terror even worse. “Ow! Grim!”

Grim frees himself from Deuce’s arms with a well placed bite to his forearm. In his morning grumpiness and anger, he exclaims, “Henchman! You left me!"

You force a smile. "To make you breakfast boss. Eat." You hold out a plate full of food that Grim happily snatches, devouring it with usual gusto. You, on the other hand, have lost your appetite. You’ll just eat at the party, where there’s an audience to whatever happens to you.

Plus, after what just happened, it’s for the best that Grim keeps full today. The last thing everyone needs is Grim to eat one of the sacred tarts before Riddle does.

But right now, all you want to do is leave. Leave the horrible oppressing air beating down on you to smother you in fear. And you have an excuse to leave, drying pancake batter on your shirt. Quickly, you shove another plate full into Deuce’s arms. "Help yourself, Deuce. We have a long day ahead of us. I’m gonna go and change my shirt.” The sooner you’re out of here, the calmer you’ll be.

Deuce gives you an appreciative smile but he looks concerned. “T-Thanks but…Are you okay Prefect?”

You calmly, not really but you really did try to act calm, shake your head. “Yeah, fine. Just…..” You’re too scared to be alone with them right now, “Don’t want to be late to the unbirthday party. Be right back!”

As you get a good distance away from the kitchen, you press yourself to the wall. It’s a great thing that the walls are thin.

“What did you tell her Ace?!” Deuce’s whispering sounds outraged. So he was putting up a front for you.

“Hey, I just asked her whether she was a darling or not, plain and simple. Besides, we both know we wouldn’t hurt her.”

“I don’t think she thinks that…”

“It’s not like we're going to. Take it from me Juice. First rule of dealing with darlings, don’t make them feel afraid.”

“If she is a darling…” Deuce doesn’t believe it. Thank the seven, he doesn’t believe it.

“You don’t think she is?”

“No..Not really.”

“It doesn’t matter either way. If she’s not a darling then, we’ll figure something out.” What does that mean? What does figuring something out entail?

There’s silence for a bit, as if Deuce is thinking about something, “But we’re scaring her…”

“Well, after the unbirthday party we’ll make her feel better. Spend time with her, make her trust us again. Don’t worry about it, Deuce.”

Silence, followed by an, “Alright.” The sound of something heavy hitting your cabinets and the noise resounds through the house. “But if you’re wrong about this and we end up hurting her, you’ll be sent home in pieces–if there’s even enough of you left to send out.”

“Got it. You gotta trust me more on this Juice, y’know since I’m the only one that knows about this stuff.”

“Fine. But you better not be wrong.” Shit. So they’re both suspicious of you and even worse, they’re working together. At least somewhat.

But there is some hope. Deuce, above all else, doesn’t want you to be hurt. If you use that against him, then maybe you can use this to your advantage. As a figurative bodyguard, to protect you from harm.

Another bombing knock on the door nearly makes you jump out of their skin. “Helllooo!?” It’s Cater, not the best person to pop up, but beggars cannot choose.

“I-I’m coming!” You call out as Ace’s and Deuce’s voices hush at the sound of your voice. But you already doubt that you would get any more information.

As expected Cater has a very bright smile greets you as soon as you open the door, "Good mooorning! Did you enjoy your sleepover? Did you bond over pillow fights and card games?”

“N-Not really, I was really tired. Could barely stay awake.” Cater’s eyes widen slightly, but he doesn’t vocalize whatever he realized. “W-Why are you here so early?”

Cater pushes past you into the foyer, and envelopes you into a hug. “Do I need a reason to see my favorite underclassmen?”

You squirm in his hold, “No, but-”

“Oh, it’s you Cater.” Ace, Deuce and Grim all poke their heads out of the kitchen in confusion.

“Hiiii, did you have fun?”

“Yeah, but-”

Cater interrupts them, “Well, you should get one of the tarts we made yesterday and go apologize to Riddle.” Cater hesitates for a moment and his expression drops into a frown, “And you should probably hurry, because after the trouble yesterday, we’re a little short handed.” Is something wrong because he’s never this serious.

“What does that mean?” “Don’t worry. I’ve totes got it under control. Anyway, off to the party we go!”

“Wait, I haven’t changed-” Whatever you were about to say is cut short by Cater dragging you by your arm all the way to Heartslabyul, with Ace, Deuce and Grim not far behind. So after this shitshow of a morning you’ll be attending an important tea party with a super strict dictator with dried pancake mix on your shirt. Thanks Ace.

Heartslabyul looks as neat as ever, with the rose bushes perfectly trimmed, et cetera, et cetera.

Ace, massive chestnut tart in hand, is prepared to march inside and spare you the additional migraine. “All right, so I’ll hand over the tart and say I’m sorry, then-”

But no, no that’s not happening.

Because Cater popped out of the rose maze. The same Cater that was still holding your arm at the mirror entrance, a good ten feet away. And y’know what. You might want to consider visiting Sam for some extra-strength headache medicine.

Cater B waves at Cater A, “Hey, it’s about time I got back! Good to see me!”

Cater A, not bothering to explain his sudden perfect copy, waves back at him. “And me! Looking good as always, me!”

Well at least you could now explain how he gave that flower to you in the rose garden yesterday. Wait if he can clone himself, doesn’t that mean he can send a clone out to follow you around?

“Bwuh?”

“Th-There’s two Caters?!”

“Are you guys identical twins?!”

You don’t share your friends’ noise of confusion, it’s already 7 AM and you’re exhausted for the day.

“Nope. Don’t have any siblings.” The explanation is one you were expecting, it’s his unique magic ‘Split Card’ that allows him to clone himself. Cool. That's just cool. Deuce puts two and two together about their loss yesterday, but once again, you’re already exhausted.

And more headaches come jumping out of the bushes.

“Welcome home, daaarlings.”

“Good to see you, ____”

You yelp as more appear from nowhere. Just how many of these can he make at once. He could be his own card soldier army if he wanted, for seven’s sake!

“J-S-Y-K, I’m actually the real Cater.” No,we are not playing this game of who’s the real Cater, you’re here to give Riddle this stupid tart and then you’re eating too much of Trey’s desserts. Not this game of human bullshit.

“Making these duplicates is suuuper exhausting, so I can’t maintain them for long.” Well, that’s a little relief. But Riddle’s left Ace’s collar on for a good day now, is there not a time limit for magic or something? Has Riddle not slept to make sure the collars stay on or something? “Anyway , if we’re late, heads will roll. And since we’re several people short, we’ll need your help.”

“But-” You start but Cater interrupts you.

“When this is over, I promise I’ll take you straight to Riddle.” Well, there goes head straight to Riddle, this better not bite you in the ass.

Wait. Oh, not the roses again.

“What, MORE roses?”

“And here we go again!”

You sigh, let’s get this over with already.

And now, red paint now joined the creme-colored mess on your vest and shirt. Today was becoming as big a mess as your shirt. Yay….

But on the brightside, Deuce and Grim managed to get the hang of painting the roses with magic.

On the dark side, painting the roses took so long that it was time for the unbirthday party to start.

So now you were in the extravagantly decorated tea garden still stuck with that stupidly big tart that should have been given to Riddle an hour ago, thanks Cater.

By now, all the Heartslabyul students had gathered in the garden, and, at least to you, it’s not very festive for a party. Everyone, decked out in a pretty cool uniform, looks as stiff as a soldier on the battlefield. As if waiting for a bomb to go off.

Some students buried in the crowd have collars just like Ace’s around their necks, the rule breakers collared like dogs with a cone of shame. It’s just barbaric.

The sound of trumpets make the few slouching stand at attention in utter silence and terror, as one of the students play announcer, a something of Spades.

“All Hail our Leader, the Red Sovereign Himself….Dorm Leader Riddle!” You instinctively cringe at the title. Who would willingly want to call someone that, and isn’t clearly joking?

The man of the hour walks in with all the nonchalance of someone who definitely didn’t hear what you just did, but the card soldiers do exactly as the ones in your dream did, and forgive the pun, followed suit.

“We salute you, Dorm Leader Riddle!” Are they not going to introduce Trey? He’s right next to Riddle and the Vice Dorm Leader. But for some reason, they don't. Is this why Trey seems so insecure?

Riddle inspects every nook and cranny of the tea garden as if looking for the tiniest error or mistake, from the table cloths to the flamingo enclosure for what you hope isn’t an actual croquet game with live animals. You watch each of the other dorm students tense in fear as he makes his rounds.

After too many minutes of silence, Riddle finally makes his judgment, “Hm. The garden roses are red, the tablecloths are white…This seems a proper unbirthday indeed.”

The surrounding dorm students all sag in visible relief. How much of a traditionalist and a perfectionist is this guy?!

“Is there a dormouse asleep in the teapot,” There’s a what in the what?!, “as there should be?” Just as you make a mental note to not drink the tea, you watch the formerly relaxed card soldier tense up like someone lit a fire under their ass.

Though they sag again when Trey tells Riddle that they’ve prepared everything to the Queen of Hearts, and Riddle’s expectations.

Just how much fear has Riddle instilled in the hearts of his fellow dorm mates?

Grim seems less concerned with the terror on the faces of nearly everyone here and is more concerned with their outfits. “Myah! Those are some fancy duds!”

You have to agree they are pretty nice, but they are bigger things to focus on here right now, like how the soldiers seem like they're about to have a stroke with all the stress they’re under.

“These are the Heartslabyul dorm clothes.” Cater explains, “Aren’t they fierce? At the forefront of fashion, and they look great in Magicam.”

“Yeah, but-” There’s a flash of light to your left, and Cater’s in his dorm uniform.

“One of the Queen’s rules mandates formal dress on party days.” Once again cool, but you want to know about- “As a show of kindness from a beloved mentor, I’ll help coordinate your outfits.”

Another light flashes, and you feel the dirty clothes you’re wearing ripple around your body, reforming and changing.

In place of the messy version of your Ramshackle, is a version of the Heartslabyul uniform fit precisely to your style of dress (masc version/fem version).

It’s nice, not bad but nice. As long as you get those clothes back, you don’t really have clothes to spare.

Ace and Deuce are in uniforms that match the rest of the card soldiers, and even Grim’s bow matches the Heartslabyul colors.

“Whoa!”

“Lookin’ sharp!”

“Myah! So cool! Henchman, do I look cool!”

“Yes, you do. You look very cool, Grim.” Grim smiles in your arms, and you might as well complement the other two who call you friend, “You both look fantastic too!”

The two’s faces brighten as they smile at you. “T-Thanks!”

“So do you, Prefect!”

“Now, let’s tear this party up! And don’t forget to give Riddle the tart.”

“Yes! Let’s not delay this anymore! Give him the tart.” You’re about to push Ace in the direction of the tyrannical and not your damn problem dorm leader. When the sound of teacup being hit by a teaspoon rings out. “Oh, c’mon!”

“Before we begin the croquet tournament, let us make a toast. Does everyone have their teacup?” You pick one of the teacups up as politely as possible to keep the dorm leader’s eyes off you. But if you grip it any harder, you’re going to break the china.

“On this most significantly unauspicious of days, I bid all in attendance….a very merry unbirthday!” That tart that got Ace kicked out better be good for all you had to go through.

The whole garden repeats the same cheer, minus you because you’re going to lose it the longer you stay.

“Ace, this is your chance!” Cater whispers.

“Yes, finally. Ace, let’s go.” You practically drag Ace by his arm all the way up to Riddle, careful to prevent that tart from falling to the ground because if something happens to that damn tart you’re going to lose your mind. “Now apologize, like you mean it. Even if you don’t.”

“Right…Uh, dorm leader, sir…”

“Ah, it’s you. The tart thief. Oh, and _____, I see you’ve been keeping out of trouble.” Ace gives you a confused look.

“It’s a long story, I’ll tell you later,” you whisper, before turning your attention back to the tyrant, “Yes, I have,” You laugh nervously. “I wanted to make sure that Ace apologized….correctly.”

“Do you, now?” Riddle crosses his arms, awaiting that apology. Don’t screw it up Ace.

“Yeah, so I wanted to apologize for eating that tart. We made you a new tart to replace it.”

“Hmm? And what kind of tart is it?” So far so good. Now just tell him what is before they cut that nice looking cake over there. You’re really hungry now.

“I’m so glad you asked! It’s a chestnut tart, and I swear, we weren’t stingy with the chestnuts.” Okay, no snark, nothing that can be taken out of context, we’re almost through the woods.

Riddle reacts like he’s just been struck. “A CHESTNUT tart?!” Shit.

“What?!”

“Is…is something wrong?”

Riddle’s eye twitches in anger, “The Queen of Heart’s rule 562: One must never bring a chestnut tart to an unbirthday tea party.” FUCK.

Riddle looks like he’s going to blow a gasket. “This is an utterly flagrant rule violation! Do you not understand what you’ve done?!” Oh no….” You’ve ruined an otherwise perfect unbirthday!”

“Rule 562..?!” How many fucking rules are there!?

“How many of these rules are there?!”

“There are 810 rules in all,” What the FUCK, “And as dorm leader I can of course recite each and every one of them.” What the hell….

Shit, you need to damage control, “W-Wait, we didn’t know that! And besides, we weren't planning on bringing it to the unbirthday party.”

Riddle, like an asshole, ignores you, “As dorm leader of a dorm established to honor the Queen of Hearts’ rigor, I cannot ignore this. Destroy the offending tart immediately! Then throw these rulebreakers out of the dorm!”

Fuck this place.

#yandere twisted wonderland #yandere #yandere twst x reader #yandereverse au

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scoops-aboy86 · 5 months ago

Text

Secret Admirer

Steddie Week 2024, July 1: Mystery / secret relationship / One Night Alone by Vixen

wc: 2131 / rated: T / set between seasons 2 and 3 / also on ao3

cw: negative self talk (steve), allusions to unhealthy use of drugs and alcohol (eddie), and one horny paragraph

In the first few letters, Eddie had tried to disguise his handwriting. It occurred to him after a while, though, that there would be no reason for someone like Steve Harrington to recognize it, so he stopped. And he was right, nothing happened.

Steve hasn’t figured out the secret admirer letters he kept answering were written by none other than the official Freak of Hawkins High. Hell, Steve hasn’t even worked out that he’s a he. Though a few vaguely worded sentences every now and then suggest that Steve might not be assuming she either, which is…interesting. Possibly nothing, but interesting all the same. And Eddie knows he’s probably just stringing himself along by doing this, but he��s about to repeat his senior year of high school for the third goddamn time and this is a better option than drinking or dipping into the harder stuff that Reefer Rick expects him to sell. Broken heart likely, but at least he doesn’t wake up with a headache or the shakes.

Now it’s well into summer, and the PO Box he’d had since he was sixteen (for Blueboys and other mags that would get him equally tarred and feathered if anyone finds out) gets mail every damn day.

Eddie looks down at the most recent letter, rereading it for the hundredth time with a joint in one hand, several empty beer cans littering the bedspread and floor of his room around him.

Dear Secret Admirer, Hey, I’m sorry if I came on too strong in my last couple of letters. I get why you don’t want to tell me who you are. We probably went to high school together, right? You don’t write like a middle schooler and no one who graduates sticks around in this stupid town besides me. I guess that makes me stupid means you probably knew me when I was still a douchebag. Sorry about that. I hope I never said anything to you or let Tommy push you around. Except I don’t know why you would’ve started writing to me in the first place if I had? It’s not like I would’ve written back if I was still that popular guy who everyone talked to and thought was so cool. Yeah, I admit it, I thought I was hot shit back then too! But it turns out, they only give you the spotlight as long as you don’t put a toe out of line. Don’t point out when they’re being assholes. You wouldn’t believe the kind of shit some people will say when they think you already agree with them about everything. Anyway, I’m trying to be better now. Genuinely, if I’m not, if I’ve been an asshole in these letters at all, please tell me. And it’s not like I’m tired of writing to you, I just. Wouldn’t getting to talk in person be even better? Or we don’t even have to talk, if you don’t want to, that’s okay! You can come by Scoops and tell me it’s you and I’ll give you a free ice cream cone or something, whatever you want. Because actions speak louder than words, right? You keep sending me all these nice letters, and I’m not the best with words so I want to give you something too. (I don’t mean that like That wasn’t a come-on, I swear. Shit, I should rewrite this again but this is already the fifth draft, it’s not getting any better than this. Sorry.) — Steve PS, I don’t know if you have been to Scoops already, but if you’ve seen my coworker’s whiteboard I swear I’m not interested just because I keep striking out. Turns out I don’t actually know how to talk to girls without being weird. It’s weird being done with high school and not have that stuff in common to talk about, and I used to be this cool guy that I’m really not anymore so I panic and all this bullshit (who am I kidding) bullshit comes out my mouth and it’s EMBARRASSING. Anyway. I really like your letters, it’s been great having someone to talk to even if it’s not really talking a face to face thing, and I’m not just saying that because I’m kind of a loser now. Anyway, have a nice day! Fuck, Robin is right, I SUCK

The first bullshit in the postscript is crossed out so hard there’s a tear in the paper. All the scribbled out bits are borderline illegible, like Steve really tried, but Eddie can still make out most of it and can guess the rest from context. The very last word, for example, is totally obscured, but he has seen the You Rule / You Suck board, so. Yeah.

It makes his heart ache, the way Steve talks about himself sometimes. The way his insecurities bleed through artlessly on the page like coffee stains. Eddie alternates between wanting to wrap him up in soft things to protect him from whatever sharpness left him so cut open, and wanting to smother him with kisses for the bravery in being so genuine with a nameless, faceless stranger.

Except Steve isn’t his. Steve is straight, for all he’s apparently being kind enough not to make assumptions, and could never want Eddie in the same way. And it’s not fair, the hanging back that Eddie’s been doing, holding out now that Steve has come to look forward to his letters just because of a little (huge, massive, life-threatening) fear of rejection.

He’s been dragging his heels so long that Steve is feeling rejected, and that just won’t do.

Sighing, Eddie takes another long drag before stubbing the remaining nub of the joint out. Scrubs his hands across his face and considers getting another beer. Or maybe forgetting the corner he’s backed himself into, with Steve wanting to meet—not only to satisfy the curiosity of knowing who his secret admirer is, but because he actually seems to like the person writing to him. (Actually wrote that they didn’t have to talk if Eddie didn’t want to, Jesus H. Christ, why did he have to be such a fucking sweetheart about that?)

It’s late, and he’s already stripped restlessly down to just his boxers for bed. He could push it all aside, push his hands down the front of his underwear and get lost in different thoughts about Steve for a while, for the trillionth time. God knows that always works to clear his head, sometimes twice if he’s ambitious about it, enough for sleep to take him.

Instead, Eddie drops the letter on his bed and hunts around on his desk for a notebook he can stand to tear a few more pages out of. Once he has what he needs, he chews on the end of his pen for several minutes before putting it to the paper.

Steve, my beloved, It has been some time since I’ve replied. My deepest apologies for that, as it seems like you’ve taken that to mean something I absolutely did not intend. I received all of your letters, and “too strong” is not how I would describe them. They were lovely, sweetheart. I have reread them many times, I have slept with them under my pillow, I have cried happy tears over them for the thought that you might actually share my affection enough to want so badly to know who I am. Very quickly, to address some of your questions and concerns: One, we did share some years in high school, yes, and I’m pleased to read that you think my writing is at a level appropriate to someone approximately our age. (I wish more of my teachers shared that view, but alas, I’m pretty sure that most of them hate me. Except for the drama teacher, who would let me get away with murder as long as I didn’t stain or break any of his props with the act.) Two, Hagan was a dick, but more to my friends than me directly, and the worst you ever did was laugh when I dropped my books a few times, that sort of thing. Water under the bridge, fuck high school, etc. etc.. Three, you have not engaged in any assholery in your writing, or in any of your actions that I’ve seen in a long time. And four… you should’ve left the double entendre (i.e. the “I want to give you something too”); I wouldn’t have minded. Obviously I think of you as prime boyfriend material—thoughtful, good sense of humor and humility, and whenever those younger kids swing by to pester you at the mall you put up a good front of being exasperated and annoyed, but through all that I can tell you care about them. (They say never trust someone who would hurt an animal, it works for kids too.) But you’re also a total smoke show, baby. The effortless way you moved around the basketball court, same as in the water when you were still on the swim team, and in those indecently tiny shorts. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve thought about running my fingers up the inside of those thighs. Or my mouth. Whichever you think you’d like best, baby, I’m not picky. And while I do like ice cream, particularly strawberry with rainbow sprinkles in a cone, I can think of something else I’d love to wrap my hand around and run my tongue over before any drips can escape. You just think about that, hmm? Maybe share some of those thoughts in your reply, if I haven’t scared you off with this paragraph. It was a relief to write that, to be honest. I am not without my fantasies, you see; in a lot of ways, they’re all I have. The real reason I’ve been hesitant to respond to all of your heartfelt entreaties to meet, sweetheart, is that I’m afraid. I’ve been head over heels for you for so long—for your looks before anything else, I’ll admit, but the douchebag boy from high school that you mentioned is long gone. A man stands in his place, and what a man you are. In writing to you, I wanted to make clear first and foremost how ardently I admire and love you, lest my feelings be mistaken for mere tawdry teen lust. And hopefully I’ve succeeded. If so, can you see now how actions can be carved in with the words? It is the intent that shines through, and I can read in between the lines, Steve, that you are being genuinely honest with yours. All those disparaging remarks you made about yourself in your last letter, both crossed out and not, are probably you being too hard on yourself, but they speak to the fact that you both understand you’ve made mistakes in the past and are trying to pay penance for them. That, along with your fantastic hair and magnificent ass, are just a few of the reasons I remain, as always— Your Secret Admirer P.S. I don’t mind weird. Like it, even. Bring it on, big boy. P.P.S. If all I could ever have with you is one night alone, I’d take it and be grateful.

Eddie’s letter is almost twice as long as Steve’s, but whatever. That’s par for the course; he never expected Steve to be much of a wordsmith, even though the guy is clearly putting in a lot of effort. Writes drafts, apparently. Unlike Eddie, who bangs all that out in pretty much one go and merely skims it before sliding it in an envelope, sealing it in, slapping on a stamp and address, and throwing it off the bed.

Then he falls into bed and strips his dick to the thought of Steve reading the letter and thinking about his mouth, half in a hot anonymous way and half in some imaginary reality where Steve knows it’s him and wants this just as badly. Of Steve groaning out how good it feels and maybe wanting to hold him after, fall asleep together, like they’re…

The next morning (or afternoon, whatever, it’s summer vacation), Eddie reviews his slightly fuzzy memory of the letter after stepping on the envelope and realizing, oh, right. Overly verbose and dramatic, the way he always is but even more so when tipsy. And… fuck it. One horny paragraph, he decides, won’t be the end of the world. Maybe it will scare Steve off; maybe he’ll enjoy it. Let fate decide, just like at the dnd table.

Eddie shoves the envelope into the mail drop box just outside the trailer park gate on his way into town and sends a prayer out to no god in particular that he hasn’t just rolled a nat one.

Permanent tag list: @hotluncheddie @lawrencebshoggoth @sofadofax @tangerinesteve

Tagging some folks who expressed interest about this story in my Wiggly Wednesday post last week, let me know if you don't want to be tagged going forward: @steviewashere @cryingglightningg @theresebelivett @sleepy-steve

@rozzieroos @lunaraindrop @just-my-latest-hyperfixation

#steddieweek2024 #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie #scoops words #secret admirer steddie

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yuri-is-online · 7 months ago

Note

no cause the way you have filled my brain with sho brainrot,,,

baby acting like a mf guard dog for his favourite senpai, constantly wanting their attention 😭

LISTEN

I am so glad I waited to answer this for a teeny bit because I thought I was exaggerating at first because like. It was one voiceline right? WRONG. When you level him up he says "thank you senpai" and when I got his SR and slapped him onto my homescreen he does in fact try to get your attention and ask for help from his senpai. He's supposed to be this brash delinquent but he's shockingly respectful of one very specific senior even if he's just a bit sarcastic about it ugh.

Sho feels like he needs an excuse. He can't just ask to hang out with you because then it looks like you're friends, but if he's asking for a favor then you won't have a reason to say no. The Professors all want you to help out the ghouls so he can say just about anything and you'll jump at it, right? Yeah no that's not the real reason. He wants to have you to himself and if he words it like he needs help he can make excuses as to why you two need to be left alone.

Absolutely uses the fact that he can cook to his advantage. I think one of the main reasons Sho started liking the MC so much was because you supported his cooking. He seemed like he expected to be judged for it so when MC was just hungry and said his food was good? The only person he really seems to have cooked for up to this point is Leo (and Bonnie but she's special) so he wants that praise. And to hear you say he could charge money for it? Oh he was riding that high for ages. I feel like he already wanted to open some sort of cafe but really appreciated the support.

And it gives him the excuse to get you to stay around him longer when he asks for your help. Well he's going to cook anyway and you're hungry, so just stick around. He'll make something and pretend to complain about it but he likes feeding you. Well assuming you don't douse his food in hot sauce, though that won't stop him from making you stuff.

I really like the idea of him competing with the Frostheim ghouls idk why. I think MC should get to be good friends with Kaito and Luca and Sho should get to be a brat about it. Vagastrom and Frostheim already don't get along and he never got his fight with Lucas so yeah. He's super intense about how he's way better at protecting MC than they are, especially with Lucas. Part of it is because he feels guilty for going along with Leo's plan and almost getting you killed, he feels like he needs to prove that he's strong enough to not let that happen again.

Speaking of Leo... I sort of get the sense that Sho hides how much he hangs out with the MC from him. In book 3 Leo makes a bet that would see him getting Sho's food truck if he wins it so I sort of feel like if Leo knew Sho liked the MC he'd be insufferable about it. Honor Roll is stealing his best friend (¬､¬) how lame ugh. And he would try to sabotage it because he would find it funny, or even worse try to make Sho's friendship with you the cost of a bet. I could see Sho having nightmares about that.

Book 3. When Towa and MC go missing. I just know in my heart Sho was loosing his goddamn mind. Again I think he feels sort of guilty for almost getting you killed, and now that you aren't with his dorm you just go missing? Unacceptable where are you? How did Jabberwock fuck this up so badly holy shit. I wanna see him admit that he was worried about MC. I wanna know if he got into any arguments with the Frostheim ghouls while the professors forced them to stay behind.

... i kind of want him to argue with Jin. Like specifically Jin. For no reason other than it would be funny to me personally and like... Jin is the one who interrupted his fight with Luca so I just think it would be funny if they had beef.

I need to level his affinity more. I need to see more chats game please ;-; I love him shomuch.

#<3 asks #tokyo debunker #tdb #tokyo debunker x reader #tdb x reader #tdb leo #tdb leo x reader

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reyrapidsbutgayer · 2 months ago

Text

Ranking All Shadow of the Erdtree Bosses and NPC's by Fuckability.

It's finally time. The sequel to the 2nd worst post I've ever made.

I 100%-ed the DLC and it was fantastic. Time to find out which new characters are the most fuckable.

In this hypothetical all of the bosses can be reasonably communicated with (if possible) and are not actively trying to kill you (Unless killing you makes it sexier).

Repeat bosses not included, duo bosses counted seperate. Bosses that already appeared in the Base game are not counted.

It should also be assumed that all of these bosses have access to their magic/items/resources to benefit them in bed.

Explanation of Grading system:

Ineligible: (Cannot give consent)

These characters are not sentient enough to communicate consent, or are physically incapable of sex.

Unfuckable: (Can give consent, but does not DESERVE sex)

Character sucks so badly that they do not deserve to experience pleasure in any shape or form.

Uninterested: (Can give consent, does not WANT sex)

These character are fully capable of sex but would never participate in sex due to lack of interest or overabundance of moral convictions.

Not worth it: (Can give consent, is terrible in bed)

I mean, you COULD have sex with these characters but why would you?

Acceptable: (Can give consent, would be fine in bed)

These characters are average in bed, nothing crazy or noticeable. Some might end up in this category because they ARE good at sex, but the entire process would be inconvenient or uncomfortable to initiate.

Good Time: (Can give consent, would be great in bed)

These characters are good at sex, give or take a few points depending on their mood or situation.

Knock your socks off: (Can give consent, would be amazing in bed)

These characters excel in giving pleasure and would be well worth the time and effort involved.

Sex God: (Can give consent, would be the best in bed)

These characters would be so good at sex that all other factors are irrelevant. They are serving and we are here for it.

Evil Sex God: (Can give consent, is a terrible person but you’d make an exception.)

These are characters that should fall lower in the rankings, but their sexual prowess supersedes their inherent awfulness to a noteworthy degree.

Full list below the read more. Obviously it's not going to be sfw.

Ineligible: (Cannot give consent)

Ralva the Great Red Bear:

Animal

Rugalea the Great Red Bear:

Animal

Ghostflame Dragon:

Undead, probably not capable of sex.

Golden Hippopotamus:

Animal

Swordhand of Night Anna:

She is a hot goth knight, but is a mind controlled puppet.

Unfuckable: (Can give consent, but does not DESERVE sex)

Promised Consort Radahn + Radahn Consort of Miquella:

Radahn is just a mind-controlled corpse, and Miquella is a little bitch, so they are both ineligible. Honestly who tries to become a god but also ditches their inner goth girl? St. Trina deserved better.

Scadutree Avatar:

Theoretically capable of sex, but is made of pure anger and thorns.

Fire Knight Salza:

War criminal, even by Elden Ring terms so you KNOW it's bad.

Jori, Elder Inquisitor:

Creepy torturer and hypocrite, thinks sex is a sin and I plan for him to die sinless.

Uninterested: (Can give consent, does not WANT sex)

Curseblade Labirith:

Too devoted to being a monk to care.

Midra Lord of Frenzied Flame:

He's going through a LOT right now. He just got dumped AND he is being tortured for eternity while also containing a god of madness in his body, just leave the poor man alone.

Blackgaol Knight:

In another life he'd fuck like semi truck, but as of right now he's taken a vow to be a wet blanket alone in a mausoleum.

Not worth it: (Can give consent, is terrible in bed)

Chief Bloodfiend:

Too goopy and covered in diseased blood, but is still up for it if you are.

Putrescent Knight:

On one hand it's melting skeleton made up of thousands of merged souls... but on the other hand if you managed to get the consent and each and every soul I bet you could PROBABLY do something.

Lamenter:

Throw him one pity fuck and then run, he's clingy and a whiner.

Death Knight:

Is mostly just a skeleton, and whatever flesh is still there is probably rotting... but he does have some rizz and cool wings... goth guys can still get it.

Acceptable: (Can give consent, would be fine in bed)

Black Knight Garrew:

A highly trained knight, probably has good stamina but is also a fanatic to a creepy cult.

Black Knight Edredd:

Is also a highly trained knight, probably has good stamina but is also a fanatic to a creepy cult... but he does know crucible incantations... he might have some weird animal stuff you can get him to use in bed.

Rakshasa:

She's covered in blood and is overflowing with bloodlust... but lust and bloodlust are in the same neighborhood if you know what to do.

Divine Beast Dancing Lion:

If those two guys in there aren't rotting corpses... Fucking two guys inside a scary lion costume is an above average Tuesday night.

Good Time: (Can give consent, would be great in bed)

Logur, the Beast Claw:

A nude man covered in blood is running at you on all fours... you are either about to die or have a WILD night.

Ancient Dragon Senessax:

A very average dragon, but all dragons have a baseline fuckability so she's up here.

Jagged Peak Drake:

Drakes are slightly less fuckable than dragons, but if you don't think I'd willing be double teamed by two dragons while Igon watches, you clearly don't know me.

Ancient Dragon-Man:

All the perks of dragon sex but in a much more portable package.

Demi-Human Swordmaster Onze:

Normally Demi-humans are more cute than sexy, but this guy dedicated his life to the blade, you should be helping him make up for lost time.

Count Ymir, Mother of Fingers:

He's a delusional asshole... but he smacks of gender™ in a very submissive and breedable manner. A man who wants to be a mother and has giant fleshy fingers growing out of his body? It will be uncomfortable and deeply personal... but you GOTTA try it at least once, the LGBTQ community is depending on you.

Knock your socks off: (Can give consent, would be amazing in bed)

Red Bear:

All the raw sex appeal of Logur but with 25% more daddy energy.

Moonrithyll, Carian Knight:

Listen we have all been sleeping on Moonrithyll when we should be sleeping WITH her. She is the chamberlain to Rellana (as in head bedroom attendant) which means she is an actual #girlboss and there must be insane wizard lesbian sex behind closed doors. Not only that but she is beloved by the trolls and can fight on equal terms with the carian troll knights, who are no doubt getting sucked and fucked by her nightly. She's just a normal human but she is blowing out the backs of demigods and giants alike. She is struggling to keep her head above water and that water is pussy.

Commander Gaius:

Ok so here me out: He is an asshole, and violent, and a fanatic who serves the very order that discriminates against him... but all you have to do is mention that Radahn is better in bed than him. With this one simple trick he will have you bent over the back of his boar making sure he won't be the only one who can't use their legs after. He is pure rage and he will not stop until he has make you cum more times than Radahn ever has. Trust me, this happened to me, video games are real.

Dancer of Ranah:

Infinite stamina, enough said.

Sex God: (Can give consent, would be the best in bed)

Rellana Twin Moon Knight:

I want you to imagine Rennala, a normal woman who was able to satisfy Radagon/Marika, the sluttiest possible duo in the entire history of the lands between. Now imagine Rennala at full power, no depression, no hanging out in her basement mourning her failed marriage... now imagine Rennala 18% more goth and holding two magic swords. She will fuck you into space and then fuck you back to planet earth. Now imagine being bisexual.

Messmer the Impaler + Base Serpent Messmer:

I have slowly grown to love this sad bishounen anime boy more and more as I learn about his pathetic little life. He seems all mean and firey, but he is a bottom. (and his snakes are not) I wanna make him squeal and then get him therapy and then for good measure make him squel again.

Romina, Saint of the Bud:

A sleeper hit, but she is a mean insect lady with a giant prehensile centipede tail. She is like a xenomorph queen but a pink pastel goth rather than a vampire goth. She will wrap you up in that giant tail of hers and get straight to the egg laying. If you haven't considered it before, then you will now.

Evil Sex God: (Can give consent, is a terrible person but you’d make an exception.)

Metyr, Mother of Fingers:

Look... you WILL die after doing this, but she has a giant stomach full of squirming wet fingers and she is basically a big pile of dicks. Get naked, jump into her gaping stomach and die happy. That's an order from your commanding officer, now do your duty and serve your country.

Bayle the Dread:

I hate this dragon, he is responsible for the steady decline in dragon sex appeal, he hurt my Igon, and I can't explain why but I feel like he is sexist somehow. BUT... a dragon is a dragon. If Igon asks me to double team this guy I legally can't say no.

BONUS: Ranking the new NPC's from worst to best in terms of fuckability:

#13: Fire Knight Queenlign:

Somehow, his haircut is more of a turn-off than the war crimes he committed in the name of a god who doesn't even know he exists, which is not a good sign.

#12: Hornsent Grandam:

Normally I would give GILFs a pass to live their life and fuck as little or as much as they want. But she is the type to slut shame other women and as a feminist I cannot stand idly by.

#11: Hornsent

In another life he'd be a decent lay. He had a wife and a child so he has had sex at least once. In a pinch I can forgive the blind self destructive quest for vengeance, but I draw the line as soiled loincloths. You're an adult Hornsent, so act like it.

#10: Moore

My sweet little pot boy... If it came to sex I'd like to imagine that he is attentive and gentle, with his armor clattering around the whole time because he is too scared to take it off entirely. But he is too sweet and you honestly don't deserve him. He needs to be romanced, swept off his feet by a loyal and supportive partner and let's face it, you aren't at a place in your life where you can be all that he needs.

#9: Thoiller

The pillow princess to end all pillow princesses. He is a simp, he's submissive, he's breedable, he's a sopping wet pathetic little meow meow. Tumblr, THIS is the man you keep saying you want, now get in there and impregnate this man as the prophecies foretold.

#8: St. Trina

She's a plant at this point and probably isn't up for sex. (And a disembodied essence of love from a corrupted demigod) But I KNOW for a fact you kept imbibing her nectar more than you needed to. She just likes to watch as you and Thoiller get high and flop around in the putrescences. Lore says St. Trina was a fully grown woman at some point, and not just a weird little plant person, so in her prime she probably had a weird sleepy plant orgy with her followers.

#7: Redmane Freyja:

On paper she is the tragic butch sword lesbian we need but don't deserve. A prisoner who earned her freedom and rank through brutal gladiatorial combat, a loyal knight to a fallen demigod, and a big buff lady who can step on you. But in practice she still sides with Leda after breaking free of the mind control, and lets Miquella control her lords body like a toy. Come on Freyja, where is your fire? Your rage? Suplex Leda and fuck your way across the lands between as did your forefathers.

#6: Swordhand of Night Jolan:

She's a mean goth girl with a tragic past and a desperate need to be loved. I could fix her.

#5: Sir Ansbach

He easily earned his place in the top 5. He's running from a tragic past, he is trying to be a better person, he has all the sex appeal of Varre' but actually bathes, and he is a GILF. In practice he probably isn't the BEST in bed, but he is rather romancable. He can still get it, since he was a highly trained warrior in the past, but I see myself cuddling him as he somberly adjusts his glasses and stares out the window. Don't get me wrong there is still a LOT of sweaty blood sex but he knows what he is doing and understands what soap is.

#4: Igon

He's a screamer. Broken legs, dirty armor, doesn't matter. The warriors code demands that we look into each other's eyes as we both cum. That is the only honorable way.

#3: Needle Knight Leda

She sucks. She willingly follows a loser wannabe god, and it's not even the mind control, she is just like that™ already. She is so bad at socializing with rational people who are already on her side that she jumps to murder without hesitation. She even killed all the first Needle Knights just cuz of her own paranoia. She should be at the bottom of this list... but a yandere is a yandere. It would be creepy, uncomfortable and she'd be very demanding and probably bite you in a very non-sexy way. But it would still be some of the best sex you'll ever have. You'd regret it just as much as you'd enjoy it, and you'd regret it for the rest of your life.

#2: Dragon Communion Priestess Florissax:

Lovelorn dragon lady who wants me to eat other dragons in a very sensual manner. I am not immune and neither are you.

#1: Dryleaf Dane

After that brush, he is distant. His training is cold and impersonal, he throws himself into his prayers, dedicating every waking moment to meditation. He sought to turn his flesh to iron, so why is the flesh so weak around you?

Hear me out. He's religious, he is dedicated to his cause, he tries to kill you, and he doesn't even say a word to you.

BUT.

Imagine what happens when you finally get him to break.

He is your master, teaching you in the dryleaf arts, the two of you sparring atop a waterfall and bruising your knuckles more and more with each strike. The two of you meditate together, seeking inner peace to further your warriors spirit. He is stoic, his heart closed off to you and his mind focused on his holy mission.

But he is temped, you can see it in his eyes, in the way he watches over you when you are hurt, the soft way his fist unclench after a battle, and the thick layer of sweat you share after sparring. Together you are hardening your bodies to become living weapons, but bodies are not only used for violence, and the two of you cannot ignore the tension that grows with each day, your bodies intertwining during a particularly heated duel, grappling turning slowly to wanton exploration. He comes to his senses right before it crosses the line and you see the fear in his eyes as he pulls away from you. But you wouldn't have stopped him and he knows it from the pleased expression on your face as you lie on your back, defeated.

When it finally happens, you are sparring, leaving nothing behind. You shed your armor to let the movements flow without hindrance and so does he, conflict apparent upon his face. You trade blow after blow, your bodies raw and sore but still you don't let up. The sun is setting and neither of you will relent, sweat coating every inch and the roar of the waterfall drowning out every thought that isn't dedicated to this battle.

He is getting sloppy, his eyes transfixed not on your fists but your face. A poorly placed sweep to your legs leaves him wide open and you go for the maneuver neither of you have attempted since the close encounter that frightened him so.

He struggles, pushing your arms and legs away fruitlessly as his exhaustion drains away his years of practice. Soon you are pinning him to the wet ground on the riverbed, his hair wild and his hat flung far out of arms reach. He looks like a cornered animal in your grasp, eyes bulging and his breathing haggard. You can only look down upon your former master with a gleeful hunger, his body already more familiar to you than your own.

In a moment of understanding you see the hesitation drain from eyes. He knows what he wants, and he is done denying it. You grab his face roughly and kiss him more violently than any punch you have thrown. He returns in kind and all the exhaustion seems to leave his body as he sits up and wraps both arms around you firmly, desperate to make up for lost time, his holy mission only to worship your body and the unbreakable bond you have forged in sweat and blood.

And then you bone.

We have all imagined that exact scenario, haven't we? I have yet to meet a Fromsoft fan who hasn't described that fantasy to me word for word without hesitation. I am just saying what we were all thinking.

(Pictured: a man I would fuck until he renounces his god.)

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sjywrites · 3 months ago

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༊*·˚ Prada & Versace

: ̗̀➛ 𝓢ugar 𝓓addy!𝓛ee 𝓗eeseung x 𝓕!reader. 𝓖enre smut, fluff, age gap, s2l. 𝓢ypnosis where reader is a broke and single college student celebrating her best friends birthday, and at said party she meets someone who might solve more than just one of her problems. 𝓦𝓒 estimated 5-10k. 𝓒𝓦 age gap, oral (f! and m! receiving), unprotected sex (don’t be silly, wrap your willy!), pet names (good girl, baby, slut in an affectionate way!), mentions of alcohol, both hee and reader smokes, reader is a bit intoxicated but still fully aware of what she’s doing.

𝓝ote this is a sneak-peak of the actual story, this is the first story I’ve ever posted on tumblr so if you see anything that I can improve, please let me know. I want the first story I post to be good enough for me to be motivated to keep writing!

This is purely fiction and is not meant to interpret how the idols act in real life!

,, not proofread + english is not my first language ! ೃ⁀➷

Flashing lights, loud music and the smell of sweaty bodies. That’s what most clubs look like, and this one was no different.

It was Ryujins 19th birthday, and she wanted to celebrate it with just her closest friends and her girlfriend. That’s why Y/N agreed to it in the first place. She’s not used to social settings and spends most of her time stressing over finals, so being forced into a social setting wasn't making her any less stressed. Her and Ryujin are the complete opposite of each other and she can’t really remember how they became best friends, but somehow they did. And that’s why she’s in this position right now, pressed between strangers in a club that reeked of alcohol, dressed in a skimpy black dress that barely covered her up.

“Hey Y/N, get me another drink will ya’!” Ryujin shouted and laughed, fully intoxicated. “I don’t really think that’s a good idea Ryu” I said, a little worried about her condition “you’ve had a lot already” I tell her, hoping she would just give up “It’s fineee, I’m fineee, trust!” She laughed and grabbed another beer. I tried to stop her but she was too fast. I just gave up and sighed, trying to reason with her when she’s drunk is like trying to argue with a wall “You’re gonna throw up later I’ll tell you that.” I grabbed my lighter and walked outside for a smoke, leaving her to Yeji, her girlfriend. I love Ryujin, but sometimes she can be a handful to look after.

I walk out on the balcony, leaning against the rack and admire the glowing night sky, letting the cold wind run over my body. It’s a relaxing moment until I hear someone approaching and I assume it’s either Ryujin or Yeji, until they lean against the rack beside me. Build too big to be either of them, I look over in their direction. A tall, hot guy with glasses stands there. He lights a cigarette and looks over to me. I forgot how to breathe for a moment, embarrassed, I looked away slightly. When I look back to see if he’s still there, we make eye contact. He’s close enough that I can feel the heat roaming around him. And I can't tell if it’s the embarrassment or the close contact with the man that makes my cheeks heat up, but I’d rather not find out.

I take a look at the man in front of me, scanning him up and down. Dressed in a suit too fine to be worn at a basic club, hair styled in a way that makes it look almost untouched, and his eyes, his eyes were so easy to get lost in. I snap out of it when I realize I’d been staring for a while, a slight smirk on the man's lips as he leans down to my level.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer”

✩ ♬ ₊.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

A/N please let me know if you want me to finish it! Likes and reblogs are very much appreciated ♡ (Also someone please teach me how to make my posts aesthetic I've never posted on Tumblr before so I don't know how it works 😔)

#-`♡´- Lia Writes!#enhypen x reader #enha x reader #enha #enhypen fluff #enhypen smut #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen scenarios #enhypen heeseung #heeseung #lee heeseung #lee heesung x reader #lee heesung smut #Spotify

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kourabiedes · 6 months ago

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I'm not here to grind a political or social axe. I'm just here to tell a short story, about a normal person trying to navigate the American medical establishment. Here is some evidence. You may draw your own conclusions.

So I've had a migraine for a month.

That's not hyperbole, mind. It has been a month since this started. A month of the entire side of my head pulsing with pain, worse whenever I look at light which is always because I do digital art and all that.

Now, I've had migraines all my damn life. I know the drill. I have a preventative medicine that keeps me from having more than one a month or so, and I have a "rescue" medicine meant to stop the ones that do start. I have a nice dark room to rest in when it starts, I have blindfolds, I have ice packs -- I know how to handle these, is the point. So, for about the first two weeks, I did just that. I hit this sucker with everything that worked before and did my best to wait it out. Yes, I delayed getting care, because it was a problem I was already familiar with and assumed was normal for me.

Then, a week ago, it stopped responding to my rescue medication. Entirely stopped. Alarmed, I went to the ER. They hit me with a fairly standard migraine cocktail (so they said anyway -- don't ask me what it was because I honestly do not remember). Killed the pain almost right away and they give me some advice about what to do next and sent me home.

It was back in sixteen hours.

ER again. Same cocktail, same result. I'm freaked out now, so I call my PCP and schedule an appointment. She fits me into her schedule because she's alarmed too. She gives me a shot of Toradol and that helps, but she notices my blood pressure is reading a little elevated for me and we decide to try a blood pressure medication. Okay, cool, I'm down, high blood pressure runs in the family and it can definitely give you migraines if untreated. We start this medicine and she prescribes me a new rescue medication, giving me one pill to try while waiting for insurance to okay the prescription. This rescue medicine works, putting me back in control of the pain. Cool, thinks I, I just have to get through a couple weeks while the blood pressure medicine settles in, and if we're right, the migraine will finally let go.

Today, I discover that insurance would only okay ten pills of this medicine, because I have had the other rescue medication refilled recently for... obvious reasons. Ten pills, and if I want more, I have to wait like forty days or something.

Do you know how many of these pills I have to take a day to keep the migraine at bay? Two.

I have five days of relief -- four, now -- before I go right back to the same ER level pain, unless I am exceedingly lucky with this blood pressure medicine.

The ER did no imaging. I'm not sure if they even could. My PCP put in an order for an MRI when I saw her, which was a week ago, and that request has not yet left the insurance company.

A migraine is not just a headache, like you get after overindulging or staying up too late. A migraine alters your mental state. It can come with physical symptoms beyond head pain -- mine likes to manifest itself with dark spots in my vision, for example, which can ruin a day real fast -- and sometimes they even come with nasty mental symptoms.

So... what part of all that upsets you the most? Because, for me, it's knowing I have about four days before I go right back to screaming misery.

Oh, and I have to note, I am considered fairly lucky because the state covers my ass when Medicare won't. Yet here we are all the same.

#text #medical talk #I ain't fuckin impressed is what I'm sayin

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jade-jini · 1 year ago

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My brain still has some g!p loser virgin Minjeong left so I need to keep talking do not shut me up.

(I need her deep in my *cars collapse*)

Ok clearly she ain’t a virgin anymore lmao but still she’s not experienced at all. You’re surprisingly patient with her:’) guiding her through the basics of it. She was very eager to learn how to eat you out. So when she first did it it was both messy but also so good. “So this is your clit, right?” She asked softly touching it with the tip of her finger, lying in between your legs nsfndk loser. “Yes. Remember what I told you?” “The more I stimulate it the better you feel?” “Good puppy. Do you wa- holy fuck Minjeong!” You couldn’t even finish and she was already licking it up and down 😭 like yeah it felt nice but she was being so messy and impatient you actually had to grab her hair and slowly guide her. Which ended up in you basically fucking her mouth. That day she was so focused on ONLY eating your pussy and using her fingers. She wanted to get better at it and make you proud :( so she kept going until the only reason you were grabbing her hair was because of how good she was making you feel.

“Is that good y/n?” She’d ask while looking up at you and smdnfk those puppy eyes I’m telling you. “So good puppy, you’re so good…” you’d moan while patting her head and that made her so happy.

Minjeong is such an impatient puppy when she’s inside you, so you teach her how to have a less erratic pace, grabbing her hips and guiding her when she’s the one on top, or fucking yourself on her cock when she’s behind you (which she loves even after she gets better). And of course, the more you fuck the better she got at not.. coming so fast dnndkd.

You can’t be too good and patient tho, you torture her a bit and that’s where cockwarming comes in the picture 😌( mainly the reason I wanted to continue writing shdjdjw). You’d take her home after class and since you’ve been teasing her all day, she assumes you guys are gonna have a lot of fun once you’re at your place and she’s so excited already lol. So when you explained to her that you were gonna watch a movie she was a little confused but, nonetheless was ok with spending time with you. Oh but poor thing.. didn’t know what was coming (spoiler alert: not her for a while). You guys were chilling at the sofa, when suddenly you started unzipping her pants which she willingly took off, silently grateful to know all that teasing wasn’t for nothing. When you also took yours off and slowly sat on her shaft, she was quick to grab you and start moving you up and down on it and Omg it felt so good you almost forgot what the plan was. Ah yeah- cockwarming. “Wait-Omg wait minjeong.” “Hm? what’s wrong y/n? Did I hurt you?” She asked worried and immediately stopped sndjdjf why did she have to be so cute all the time. “No no, but there’s something I want us to try today ok? Just stay still, don’t move.” And so she did. But you see, being inside you and not being able to move was so hard for her that not even 20 seconds went by and she was already asking you “w-what do I do now? When can I move?” “Once the movie is done. But you’re gonna go through the whole almost 2 hours without coming, ok?” “..What?!” She gulped. Wdym not coming?! What did she do? Jeongie didn’t understand if this was some type of punishment because nothing sounded crueler than that. You quickly turned around, now facing her and grabbed her face to softly explained to her that she didn’t do anything wrong. You used the excuse of “this will help you last longer”. And she doesn’t have the brain to fact-check on that so she just trusts you 😭. She just wants to make you feel good so she’ll do whatever you ask her for even if it was something as hard as this.

Ofc you didn’t make it easy for her tho. You didn’t only move a little bit throughout the movie, but also left little kisses and praise her from time to time. She’d only hug you closer to her and whimper, trying her best not to lose it. After a little more than an hour tho she was already begging you to please let her come lol and you almost gave in but no! She could hold it in a little longer. She wanted to prove she was your good girl right? So she better behave. Poor girl almost looked in actual pain, sobbing against your chest while she hugged you, whispering how good your pussy felt and how much she needed to come inside it and ughhhh- the rest of the movie was as painful for her as it was for you. Once it was over tho you made sure to reward her and ride her so good ‘till her legs were shaking dndkfnjd. (The pic of minjeong sitting down with that dark shirt-).

She gets touchy too 😳 whenever she gets horny she goes behind you and holds you by the waist, her hand dangerously getting closer to your boobs, but if it’s in public you just look at her, daring her to actually do it. Ofc, she doesn’t 😭 so she just groans and stays holding you. If you’re alone tho she will grab them and get your ass right against her already hard dick, silently begging you for some attention. When y’all fucking her hands will travel everywhere; from spanking your ass, to grabbing your legs, playing with your boobs, grabbing you by the neck 😩specially when she’s behind you, holding you closer and closer to her and you can be sure sometimes you’ll have marks on your skin.

teaching her not only how to pleasure you, but also teaching her things she could do while you’re both far from each other 🙊. A lot of phone sex. Making her masturbate for you either on FaceTime or simple call, talking her through it. If it’s regular call then you’d tell her to describe exactly what she was doing for you. She does it but gets so lost in pleasure she ends up mumbling and moaning. “Hmmgh y/n… I need you here.. I m-miss you so much.. please..”. Also controlling when she comes. Making her touch herself fast then slow then fast again and once you finally tell her to come for you she makes a complete mess in her hand. Telling her to clean it for you and to show you 😳 she looks so hot doing it it makes you fantasize about if you were the one with the dick and how you’d make her suck you off- I’m losing myself rn one second one second.

So yeah anyway girlie ends up becoming so good at fucking you 😳 and she’s so proud of herself.

“You’re such a good fucktoy, just mine. Aren’t you, puppy?”

“Yes y/n, only yours…”

#kim minjeong #loser minjeong x reader #minjeong x reader #aespa smut #aespa imagines #aespa scenarios #kpop gg #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #aespa minjeong #g!p winter #loser winter #winter x reader #winter

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deliciousangelfestival · 4 months ago

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Nothing Has Changed - 10

Summary: Returning home for peace, you're faced with your tormentor, Bucky Barnes, who is now involved in your family's business.

Character: Bucky Barnes

Warning: Angst, Tragedy.

Author Note: So... I wrote the story outline until the ending. I didn't expect the story to turn dark. Prepare yourself.

Nothing Has Changed - Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist || support: Ko-fi

Thank you to anyone who gave a like, reblog, and left a comment. It motivated me to write more. 💖💖💖

Bucky awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck, searching for the right words. “Well, my mom is quite… eccentric.”

Even her own son admitted that Lydia was quite eccentric. She certainly acted like a woman from a wealthy family. She had also caused quite an uproar in town when people saw the wedding invitation that stated her husband would take her last name instead of the other way around.

In a small town, that decision was unique and controversial. Many husbands had their opinions, but no one dared to say it directly to Lydia. Everyone was somewhat afraid of her.

There was a rumor that the marriage wouldn't last long because it was one-sided love. But it's an old rumor.

“If her stares could kill, I’d be dead by now. I don't know what I did to make her hate me,” you muttered.

Bucky hesitated before speaking. “It's…”

“You know the reason?” You raised your eyebrows in surprise.

He walked closer to you, making you step back a bit. “If we become besties, I’ll tell you.”

'Best friends with you? Hell no!' You gave him a fake smile. “No, thank you.” Then you turned and left, determined to keep your distance from him.

“I knew you’d say that.” He pointed at you while chuckling. Then he whispered, “But why does it still hurt?”

🎨

While you were shopping at the grocery store, minding your own business in the sauce section, you heard a familiar voice, “I'm sorry.”

You pushed your shopping cart and saw a man kneeling down, picking up cans of beer from the ground. It looked like he had knocked over a beer display. From his hair and the pencil behind his ear, it was easy to figure out that it was Steve.

He looked as awkward as he had back in high school. Nobody helped him. You could have chosen to ignore him, but damn, your heart was getting soft.

Steve quickly picked up the beers, sensing someone was beside him. He assumed it was a store employee. “Sorry, I made more work for you.”

“You need to pay for all of this beer,” you said.

Steve realized it was you and looked up, surprised. “Could you pay it for me? I don’t have the money,” he said jokingly.

You rolled your eyes and picked up the last can of beer, fixing the display.

“Phew… I couldn’t have done it without you,” Steve said, relieved.

“Hmm,” you replied. Then you noticed the amount of beer in his shopping cart. “Having a house party?”

He looked back at his shopping cart. “Nah, just for me.”

“All of that…?” you murmured. Then you looked at his face. He tried to smile, but he looked sad, like you could see a dark cloud and rain pouring over him.

Steve sighed. “Hey, do you have some spare time?”

“Sure,” you replied.

Both of you finished shopping and then found a nearby café, settling into a quiet corner. Steve fidgeted with his phone, avoiding eye contact.

“The art school already replied,” he said, his voice tinged with disappointment. “They told me my portfolio doesn’t fit their criteria.” He looked dejected, his shoulders slumping as he spoke.

“Let me see the portfolio,” you said, reaching out your hand.

Steve hesitated for a moment before pulling out his phone and showing you the pictures of his artwork. You took the phone, studying each piece carefully. As you scrolled through his work, you noticed the intricate details and the passion evident in every stroke.

Steve watched your face anxiously, trying to read your expression. His hands fidgeted on the table, betraying his nervousness.

“This is impressive,” you said, looking up at him with genuine admiration. “Coming from someone who frequently visits modern art museums, I can tell you these pieces are outstanding.”

Steve’s eyes lit up slightly, a flicker of hope returning. “Really? You think so?”

“That art school must be insane to reject this kind of art,” you affirmed.

You picked up your phone and called an art gallery owner who was one of your clients. After a brief conversation, the owner expressed interest in Steve’s work and wanted to meet him.

Steve looked astonished. “That was quick.”

“When you have status and connections, you can achieve a lot,” you said, putting your phone back in your pocket.

“Noted. Thanks,” Steve replied, his gratitude evident.

“In just a brief meeting, you’ve changed my life. You’re more thoughtful than anyone else I’ve ever met,” Steve said, his voice sincere.

You gave a small nod, internally wondering why you had helped him. Was it an act of charity?

Not really. Perhaps deep down, you felt that Steve reminded you of your old self. If you had never met Ransom, who opened your mind, you wouldn’t have known the real world outside of this town.

You weren’t close with Steve, but you had some similarities with him. Both of you were raised by single fathers. However, the difference was Steve’s father loved him, while your father, Tom, was an absent father.

Steve’s father loved him too much, not wanting to be separated from him. Mr. Rogers became paranoid after his wife died.

To summarize, Steve lived pretty much in a cage.

“It’s not free, though. I’ll charge you later after you sell your artwork,” you said, half-smiling.

Steve smirked. “I agree.”

🏎️

A few days later, on the weekend, you decided to drive around and find an automobile repair shop. The air conditioning in your dad's car wasn't working, and although Tom didn't seem bothered by it, you were. So, you took it upon yourself to get it fixed.

After driving around town, you finally found a repair shop. You got out of the car and went to the front desk, where a woman appeared to be engrossed in her phone and clearly bothered by the presence of a customer.

You knocked on the table to get her attention.

“I need to change the air filter for my air con,” you said.

“Wait in line,” she replied without looking up.

You looked around and saw there was no one else there. Was this really how they treated their customers?

You sighed inwardly. “Just give me the air con filter.”

Her eyes remained locked on her phone as she reached out and grabbed a box, handing it to you.

You clicked your tongue and handed her the money. “Keep the change.”

“Thanks,” she mumbled.

Just as you were about to leave, the back door opened, and someone tall and imposing walked in. Instantly, your instincts kicked in, making you feel on guard.

Unexpectedly, you came face to face with one of Bucky's group, the biggest of them all. Thor. Like his namesake, he stood tall like a Greek god.

The cashier, who had previously ignored you, quickly brushed her hair and looked at Thor with puppy eyes.

Thor didn't even glance at her; his attention was on you. “No kidding. You’re back,” he said.

You gave a small nod. Back then, both of you were not friends. Thor was the loudest to laugh when you were made fun of. Standing tall like a tower, he was always the first to tell Bucky and their group when you were near.

He was known around town as a future NASCAR driver. Although you weren’t interested in car racing, a small part of you was curious whether Thor had made it to NASCAR or not. Maybe you’d ask Steve later.

“Something wrong with your old man’s car?” Thor asked with a smile.

You showed him the box you bought. “Just needed some spares.”

Thor stepped closer, his presence looming. “Need any help with that?”

You hesitated, feeling the awkward tension in the air. “I think I can manage.”

He chuckled, an awkward sound that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “You always were stubborn.”

You gave a tight-lipped smile. “And you were always…persistent.”

The cashier was still eyeing Thor, trying to catch his attention, but he seemed oblivious to her attempts. The silence grew uncomfortable, the memories of high school taunts and laughs hanging between you.

“Well, if you change your mind,” Thor said, gesturing to the repair bay, “I’m around.”

You nodded, wanting to end the conversation as quickly as possible. “Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind.”

As you walked back to the car, you couldn’t help but feel a mix of discomfort and nostalgia. Thor’s presence brought back memories you’d rather forget, but it also reminded you of how far you’d come.

You got into the car, placed the filter on the passenger seat, and drove off, the encounter replaying in your mind. Some things never change, but you have. And that was enough.

🚗

You drove home quickly, feeling a wave of relief wash over you as you pulled into the driveway. Finally safe at home, you were drenched in sweat from the broken air conditioning. “Shit. This damn air-con,” you muttered, frustrated. Why hadn’t your dad used the money you sent to buy a new car?

Determined to fix it yourself, you looked up a YouTube tutorial on how to change the air filter in a car. Despite the step-by-step guide, you were still confused, struggling to follow along.

You heard a familiar voice behind you as you fumbled with the instructions. “What 'cha doing?”

You didn’t have to look to know who it was. “Changing the air filter,” you replied, exasperated.

He heard the voice from the YouTube video. “Do you know how to do it?” Bucky asked.

“...No,” you admitted reluctantly.

“Let me help you. It’s really easy,” he said confidently.

“If you say so,” you sighed, stepping aside to let him work.

Bucky changed the air filter quickly and efficiently, his movements smooth and practiced.

"So, you went to Thor's shop?" Bucky asked while fixing it.

"How did you know?" you asked, raising an eyebrow. You also found out that shop belongs to Thor.

"From the filter box," Bucky said with a grin. "Nah… just kidding. He called me."

"Yeah, I went there," you admitted.

"Did he make you uncomfortable?" Bucky's tone grew more serious.

"The same as our first meeting," you said bluntly, not sugarcoating your words.

"Ouch," Bucky said, pretending to be hurt, clutching his chest dramatically.

"Well… it's done," he said, stepping back and wiping his hands.

You looked at the air filter, noting how easily Bucky had changed it. He was right—it was simple once you knew what to do. You turned on the car and felt the welcome rush of cold air. It was a relief after driving around in the heat.

"Thanks," you said, genuinely appreciative.

"That's what friends are for," Bucky replied with a teasing smile.

Giving him a fake smile, you shook your head, your expression firm. "We. Will. Never. Be. Friends."

Bucky shrugged his shoulders, a hint of a smile still playing on his lips. "We'll see about that," he said, walking away to help your father like usual.

You watched him go, shaking your head in disbelief. What made him think you would ever want to be friends after everything that had happened?

Author Note: I imagine this is the fake smile she gives Bucky whenever she talks to him. 😂

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