#and i just think maybe sharing is more fun than screaming alone

[slu7formen]

I heard you were sad about the lack of Luke asks, so l've decided to try and help! Bare with me bc this might not be the best considering I'm think on the spot and its late over here so feel free to delete!

So, reader was with Luke when he was running away with Annie and Thalia so they're really close. Then, when her and Luke were like 16 or smth reader left on a quest and its been like 2 years so its assumed that she just failed and died on her quest. This ruined Luke bc he loved her and one night, maybe at the bonfire, he hears reader screaming his name somewhere in the foresty part of camp, just absolutely terrified. He finds her and shes hurt, I'm talkin reallyyy messed up like a massive gash across her eye, (matching scar awww) leavin her like half blind, huge claw marks, teeth marks, and other wounds. He carries her to the infirmary, shes prob passed out at this point from like blood loss. Anyways, she finally wakes up in the infirmary and a bunch of fluff ensues, yk the usual "Don't ever leave me again" "I thought you were dead" the fun stuff and obv they confess to each other! (also, is 🖤 taken?)

whoever made this request, it was so good, you’re evil and brilliant; thank you 🖤

MDNI. luke castellan x fem!reader

warnings: wounds, injuries, blood mention, presumed death, luke being heartbroken (sorry), crying

reminder: english's not my first language so l apologize for any spelling mistakes

₊˚⊹♡

Every morning, Luke woke with the same dull ache in his chest, a constant reminder of the gaping hole your absence had left in him. It was a hollow ache, a physical manifestation of the loneliness that had become his unwelcome company. Nine years old when he ran away, the world had been a harsh teacher, but three years later, when he found you, that harshness had softened, replaced by a fierce protectiveness. You, a scared, twelve-year-old with defiance blazing in your eyes and a meager weapon in hand, had become his anchor in the storm.

The streets had been a cruel way of living, but together, you and Luke had forged a bond stronger than steel. You were the same age, yet he was older by a few months, a difference that somehow granted him a silent responsibility for your safety. Thalia and Annabeth, two more lost souls swept up in the world of their demigod destinies, completed their unbalanced family. But it was you and Luke, the two eldest, who shared a silent language of understanding that went beyond words. You fought together, scavenged together, your backs against the world.

The arrival of Grover, a satyr reeking of panic, brought relief and a terrifying truth— you weren't alone. The hunt for demigods was real, and you were all in danger.

Fourteen. A year etched in his memory with the sharp point of a spear. The monsters, the desperate fight, Thalias selfless sacrifice, the agonizing transformation into the pine tree — the events played on a loop in his mind. Camp Half-Blood, once a beacon of hope, now felt like a bittersweet prison. He had you by his side then, a hand to grip in the darkness, a silent understanding in your shared gaze.

It wasn't supposed to be this way. You were supposed to be there, by his side, facing challenges and forging a future together. He replayed the memory of your first quest announcement on a loop. The fear in his gut, a slap in the face of his fierce protectiveness. He wasn't supposed to lose you.

It wasn't fair. It shouldn't have been you, alone, facing whatever monstrous fate had befallen you. A bitter taste filled his mouth as he replayed the day you left. The forced cheer, the worry that gnawed at him, all a blur now. Training became a way to numb the ache, each swing of his sword carrying a silent plea for your sate return. But as days turned into months, the hope that had fueled him began to fade away.

News traveled slow in the demigod world, but eventually, rumors reached Camp Half-Blood. Whispers of a monstrous encounter, a lost trail, a silence that stretched too long. A year after your departure, the whispers solidified into a grim reality - you were missing, presumed dead.

Luke felt the world tilt on its axis. Denial battled with a cold, horrifying truth. You were gone.

A quest, a single solitary mission, had stolen you from him. Stolen your laughter, your warmth, your presence that had become an essential part of his world. It wasn't fair.

The quest for the Golden Apple had been a cruel twist of fate. A desperate attempt to appease his father, to offer a sliver of hope to a camp drowning in sadness, it had backfired spectacularly. Luke returned empty-handed, his body wracked with exhaustion and his spirit battered. But the most visible reminder of his failure was the jagged scar that ran from beneath his eye down to his chin, a pale testament to the dragon's fury.

He'd needed your presence then more than ever. Needed your steady gaze and the quiet strength you possessed. Needed the spark of defiance in your eyes that mirrored his own growing anger towards a world that had seemed so determined to tear them apart. He needed your touch, your hugs, he needed you.

He stood stiffly before your burial shroud, an image carved in his memory forever. Tears streamed down his face, hot and unchecked. He ignored the concerned glances of his friends, focusing only on the phantom warmth of your hand in his, a memory more vivid than anything else.

In that moment, ravaged by grief, a single truth burned bright — he loved you. And he had lost you. The world felt a little emptier, a little colder, without you by his side.

And the first nights after you left were the worst.

At first, they were hopeful visions. He'd see you, alone on a dusty road, tending to a nasty gash on your arm with a makeshift bandage. A surge of worry would course through him, a familiar anxiety honed by years on the streets. But then, a wry smile would tug at his lips as he remembered the countless times he'd taught you how to create a tourniquet, how to patch a wound and survive on the bare minimum. A flicker of confidence, a belief in your resourcefulness, would chase away the initial fear. He just knew you'd find a way back to him.

He'd wake with a jolt, his hand instinctively reaching for the empty space beside him. The sheets were cold, the air thick with the silence of your absence. But then, a flicker of hope would ignite— you were alive, you were out there.

Finally, the dreams turned into nightmares. You'd appear, but not the way he remembered you. Pale and gaunt, your eyes hollow and vacant. Sometimes, you'd be chased by monstrous shadows, their grotesque forms dissolving into a chilling whisper of your name. These dreams left him gasping for breath, his heart hammering against his ribs.

It had been a little over a year since the agonizing ceremony, the image of your burial shroud seared into his memory. But time, a supposed healer, offered no solace. In reality, it had stretched the fact of your absence even wider. Two years. Two years since he'd last seen your smile, heard your voice, felt the warmth of your hand in his.

"Luke!"

Ah, yes. He heard you sometimes. At first, it happened while he was alone; he believed it could be you, trying to contact him in some way, but it never was that way. He never found you. Then he started hearing your voice in crowded places, mistaking your voice for the ones of other campers, and his heart ached every time he realized it wasn't you.

He felt like he was going insane. Hearing you, even after years. He must be going mad. But then, it became clearer.

"Luke!"

The voice, barely audible above the crackling flames, cut through his thoughts like a knife. He froze, his hand tightening around the thin stick that held his burned marshmallow. Was it-? No. It couldn't be. He must be imagining things again.

The grief, the pain, he knew, could play tricks on the mind.

He brushed it off, attempting to rejoin the conversation, forcing a lightness to his voice that felt hollow. But then, it came again. Clearer this time, tinged with a desperate urgency.

"Luke!? Luke!"

The single word, laden with a desperate urgency, pierced through his defenses. He froze, his blood turning to ice. It was your voice. The same voice that filled his dreams and haunted his waking hours. He whipped his head around, searching the darkened forest beyond the fire's reach.

But the trees stood silent, their branches swaying gently in the night breeze. Nothing. Yet, the echo of your voice lingered in the air, a chilling reminder of the impossible. His heart pounded in his chest, a frantic drum against his ribs.

He glanced around the fire, catching the bewildered expressions of a few campers who had clearly heard the voice too. Their eyes mirrored the confusion and fear that clawed at him. If he said anything, they'd think he'd cracked, that the pain had finally driven him mad.

"Luke!"

But it was you.

Your voice, unmistakable and undeniably real. A wave of disbelief washed over him, followed by a surge of hope so intense it threatened to suffocate him.

He scrambled to his feet, ignoring the surprised yelps of his friends as he knocked over a tray of steaming hot cocoa cups. Stumbling over his own feet, he charged towards the edge of the forest, his heart pounding a frantic rhythm against his ribs.

He skidded to a halt just inside the treeline, his eyes scanning the darkness. "yn!?" he called out, his voice hoarse with a mixture of fear and desperate hope. The only reply was the rustling of leaves in the night breeze.

It was cloaked in darkness, making it impossible to discern any details. But there was a smallness, a fragility to its silhouette that resonated with his memory of you.

Just as doubt began to creep back in, another call pierced the silence. "Luke!" This time, the desperation in your voice was unmistakable.

He didn't hesitate any longer. "yn!" he roared, his voice raw with emotion as he launched himself into a run.

Several campers, roused by the commotion, scrambled to their feet, their eyes wide with confusion and trepidation. They watched, mouths agape, as Luke bolted towards the treeline, his long strides eating away at the distance.

"Luke!" Your voice came again, closer this time, tinged with a note of panic.

"yn!" He didn't dare slow down, his heart making its way up to his mouth. He could hear the sound of others following him, their footsteps pounding on the soft earth behind him.

Through the dense foliage, he caught a glimpse of your figure — small, hunched over, moving with a limp. Hope flared bright within him, battling the tide of fear that threatened to drown him.

Then, you stumbled, nearly falling. He redoubled his efforts, pushing himself to the limit. As he broke through the last line of trees, he saw you standing there, bathed in the pale moonlight.

And his breath hitched in his throat.

The sight of you, once vibrant and full of life, was a punch to the gut. Dirt and grime smeared your face, your clothes were ripped and tattered, and a sheen of sweat covered your brow. But it was the wounds that stole his breath away. Deep claw marks raked across your arms, a bloody gash marred your leg, and the most horrifying of all — a massive scar stretched across your eye, a brutal reminder of some unseen battle. The campers behind him gasped in unison, their faces etched with shock and horror.

Chiron, alerted by the commotion, pushed his way through the crowd, his brow furrowed in concern.

But your focus was solely on Luke. With a desperate cry of his name, you lurched towards him, your injured leg buckling beneath you. Without hesitation, Luke launched himself forward, catching you in his arms just before you hit the ground.

"Luke..." you whispered, your voice barely a breath. Your eyes, the one that wasn't obscured by the wound, flickered with a spark of relief and a hint of something else - a deep, unspoken emotion that mirrored his own.

Then, your eyelids fluttered closed, and your body went limp in his arms. Panic surged through him as he cradled you closer, his voice hoarse with a mixture of fear and relief. " yn? No, no, no, no, yn?" he slightly slapped your cheek, no response. He looked back to to the campers that decided to follow him, his voice cracking with desperation. "Get the Apollo cabin, now!"

The days that followed your arrival were shrouded in a suffocating silence. The once vibrant camp seemed to echo with a collective held breath. No one dared to talk to Luke.

His eyes, once playful and sparkly, now held a deep, smoldering anger. He snapped at anyone who dared to approach. Only Chiron, with his patient wisdom, Annabeth, with her loyalty, and the healers of Apollo cabin, sworn to secrecy about your condition, were able to pierce the storm raging within him.

Each day, a relentless routine unfolded. Luke would rise with the first rays of dawn, his body heavy with the weight of his own despair. He'd force down a meager breakfast, the taste turning to ash in his mouth. Then, with a heart that felt like a lead weight in his chest, he'd make the agonizing trek to the Big House, the temporary haven where you resided. He would do it multiple times a day, actually.

Lee, the son of Apollo with a mop of messy blonde hair and eyes that held a touch of empathy, would greet him at the door, a practiced neutrality masking his concern. The answer was always the same. You were alive. The healers had managed to stabilize you. But your recovery was a slow, painful journey. The wounds you bore were a testament to a harrowing pain, and the care they had taken on your body was immense.

As soon as you had fainted in his arms, you had slipped into unconsciousness. No amount of coaxing, no whispered pleas from the healers, or songs in Ancient Greek, could bring you back. Luke was devastated. The relief of having you back, a physical presence after two agonizing years, was a fragile flame quickly extinguished by the reality of your condition. Your life hung by a thread, and he was kept at arm's length.

One particularly bleak afternoon, Luke found himself face-to-face with Chiron. The old centaur, his kind eyes reflecting the turmoil swirling within Luke, gestured for him to sit.

"Luke," Chiron began, his voice soft yet firm, "I understand your pain. Your worry for yn is valid and understandable. But you must also understand, her condition is delicate"

Luke clenched his fists, his jaw tightening with suppressed anger. "Why can't I see her? Annabeth's younger than me and yet, she gets to see her. Why not me?" The words tumbled out, laced with a raw desperation.

Chiron sighed, a weary sound. "Because, Luke," he said, his voice heavy with empathy, "we fear the emotional toll it might take on you if-, if the worst were to happen."

He slumped in his chair, defeated. Grief, anger, and a gnawing helplessness battled within him.

"How long then?" he rasped, his voice barely a whisper. "How long will it be before I can see her again?"

Chiron reached out, placing a comforting hand on Luke's shoulder. "We don't know, Luke" he said honestly. "But the healers are doing their best And you need to find your strength. She will need it when she wakes up”

He nodded dumbly, understanding Chiron's concern for him. But that didn't make the gnawing ache in his chest any less agonizing. He missed you. Missed the warmth of your hand in his, the light that sparkled in your eyes, the way your laughter could chase away even the darkest shadows.

A few days later, he walked by the Big House again. Lee greeted him again, just as every other day.

"How is she?" Luke asked.

Lee sighed, a gust of exasperation tinged with sympathy. He looked tired himself, dark circles under his eye and a large cup of coffee in his hand. "Little change. But she's stable. Stronger than she looks. We had some healers fainting because of how much singing they've done to her"

A muscle ticked in Luke's jaw. "Can't I at least see her?" The words came out harsher than he intended, dripping with frustration.

Lee studied him for a long moment, his own blue eyes reflecting the turmoil within Luke. Finally, he spoke. "Look, I get it. You're scared, you're angry. But you have to understand, seeing her like this... we can't let you"

Luke clenched his fists. "I can handle it" he growled, the beast within him straining against its leash.

Lee took a step closer, his voice dropping to a low murmur. "Can you, Luke? Can you handle the possibility that maybe she doesn't get to wake up?"

The question hung in the air, a brutal truth that stripped away Luke's bravado. He stared at Lee, the anger draining away, replaced by a raw vulnerability that surprised even him. He swallowed hard, the lump in his throat suddenly making it hard to breathe.

"No" he whispered, the single word a confession of his deepest fear.

Lee nodded, a flicker of understanding softening his features. "Then trust us, Luke. Trust the healers. We're doing everything we can."

And then he remember Chiron's words. He knew he was right. He couldn't bear the thought of the last image of you being one of unconsciousness, a pale specter in a sterile infirmary bed.

The days that followed settled into a grim routine. Luke stopped asking the relentless question, 'Did she wake up?' The answer, etched into his weary soul, was a constant ache that no words could soothe. He had stopped arguing, the initial burst of rebellion replaced by a quiet desperation. He started asking more specific questions, focusing on the details of your injuries. Your eye, the massive gash that mirrored his own scar in a way that made his stomach churn, became a particular point of morbid fascination.

He couldn't bear to look at the jagged mark on his face, couldn't imagine how it felt on yours.

Not because he thought you wouldn't be beautiful —he knew you would be. But the thought of you facing the same constant reminder of pain, of vulnerability, filled him with a protective rage that simmered beneath the surtace.

But then, a shift began to occur. He noticed stolen glances exchanged between the Apollo campers, hushed whispers that died down as soon as he entered their vicinity. An unspoken secret they guarded fiercely. He tried to ignore it, burying himself in training, seeking solace in the familiar sting of sweat and exertion. Chiron's words were a constant drumbeat in his head - seeing you too soon, on the precipice of death, was a burden he might not bear.

But later that day, as the sun dipped below the horizon casting the camp in an orange glow, Chiron sought him out. Luke braced himself, his heart plummeting into his stomach. His mind spun with a thousand morbid possibilities.

He met Chiron's gaze, a storm brewing in his own eyes. "What is it?" he rasped, voice breaking.

Chiron took a deep breath, his eyes locking onto Luke's with a solemn intensity. "Luke," he began, his voice thick with a mix of trepidation and hope, "she's awake."

The world seemed to tilt on its axis again. The air whooshed out of Luke's lungs, leaving him breathless. For a moment, he could only stare, his mind struggling to process the simple, life-altering statement.

Then he ran.

His feet pounded a trantic rhythm against the dusty path, each step fueled by a desperate need to see you. Chiron's protests, if there were any, were lost in the roar of blood rushing in his ears. He wouldn't be denied this. Not now. His legs pumped like pistons, fueled by a desperate hope that threatened to shatter him if it turned out to be false. He burst through the doors of the Big House, nearly tripping over his own feet in his haste. The interior was deserted, the silence amplifying the frantic pounding of his heart.

He flung open the infirmary door, the sight inside momentarily stealing his breath. Two Apollo campers stood by the window, their hushed whispers abruptly cut short by his arrival.

But his eyes were locked on you, the very image of him defying the cruelty of fate.

You sat on the bed, a fragile silhouette bathed in the pale light, your head bent over your bandaged hands. Your hair, once a fiery mane, had grown longer, a testament to the time that had passed for him in a blur of grief. Your skin, usually kissed by the sun, was a pale canvas.

He took everything in — the fresh cuts marring your arms, the claw marks, the way your shoulders slumped with exhaustion. And you had lifted your head, startled by the sudden noise.

Your eyes, usually sparkling with life, were dull with pain, but when they met his, a spark ignited within them.

"Luke!"

The word ripped from your throat, a cry that echoed with relief and a tremor of something deeper. You lunged off the bed, ignoring the wince that contorted your face as your injured leg protested.

"yn, wait!" Lee sprang forward, concern etched on his face. Your stitches, particularly those on your thigh, were still fresh, and any sudden movement could cause them to tear.

But you didn't listen. You threw yourself at Luke, your arms wrapping around him with a desperation that mirrored his own. He caught you, the impact sending a jolt through his body. His arms tightened around you, a desperate need to hold on, to feel you solid against him.

He held you tight, the fierce possessiveness in his grip both a comfort and a warning. Your body, the way you fit so perfectly against his larger frame, sent a jolt through him. He'd grown, you realized, his broad shoulders feeling wider, his embrace stronger. In contrast, you felt impossibly small, the warrior you remembered replaced by a shell of the person you once were. His hot tears quickly started to wet your hair.

The sudden weakness in your leg, the one that had been screaming in protest since you lunged at him, finally overwhelmed you. A sharp cry escaped your lips as your body gave way beneath you. Instinctively, Luke tightened his grip, his arms morphing into a cradle to catch your fall.

The impact with the floor sent a fresh wave of pain shooting through you, but it was a dull ache compared to the overwhelming joy of finally being in his arms again. You clung to him, your fingers digging into his back, burying your face in the crook of his neck. Luke wouldn't stop sobbing now, his shoulder shaking as his arms held you into his embrace.

The Apollo campers, sensing the intimacy of the moment, mumbled apologies as they slipped out of the infirmary, leaving you and Luke alone.

He cradled you close, the scent of your hair and the warmth of your body a balm to his battered soul. He buried his face in your hair, inhaling the familiar fragrance that had haunted his dreams for so long. It was real. You were real.

"You're alive" he sobbed, the words a broken mantra against your ear. "You're alive" he repeated. Each repetition wasn't just for you, but for him, a desperate attempt to convince himself that this wasn't a cruel dream, that you weren't an illusion.

He pulled back slightly, cupping your face in his hand, his thumb gently tracing the line of your jaw. The wounds looked clean now, stitched and bandaged, but the raw pain was etched in the lines around your eyes. The gash across your eye, a crimson scar angry and fresh, pulled at the corner of your eye, making it appear swollen and bruised. Yet, to him, you were the most beautiful sight he'd ever seen.

It started a finger's width above your eyebrow, then, just as abruptly, it dipped down, catching the outer corner of your eye. The scar tissue pulled the delicate skin, making your eye appear slightly narrowed and bloodshot.

But despite the rawness of the wound, despite the vulnerability etched on your face, there was something undeniably fierce about you. It was a look he hadn't seen before, a look born from surviving the unthinkable.

Tears welled up in your eyes again, blurring your vision. You had always been beautiful, that much was undeniable. But now, even with a scar contrasting against your features, you were breathtaking.

He didn't mean to say it out loud, but the words tumbled from his lips before he could stop them.

"You look beautiful" he breathed, his voice thick with emotion.

His words sent a shiver down your spine. You leaned into his touch, seeking solace in the warmth of his hand. "It hurts" you whispered, a tear tracing a path down your cheek.

"I know" he murmured, his voice filled with empathy. He sniffed uncontrollably at your sight, so broken and fragile, wrapped around his arm. "But you're alive. You're here" his bottom lip started trembling before he could control it. He inhaled sharply and his voice came out shaky; "I thought you were dead" tears rolling down his cheeks.

You laughed, a weak sound that was more like a sob. "You won't get rid of me that easily"

He leaned in, his forehead resting against yours, his breath warm on your skin. In that moment, the infirmary with its sterile smell and harsh light faded away. All that existed was the feel of you in his arms, the warmth of your body against his, and the knowledge that you were alive.

"Don't ever leave me again" he pleaded, his voice thick with a mix of relief and terror. The thought of losing you again, of facing another agonizing day without you, was almost unbearable.

"I wouldn't dream of it" you whispered.

[itostea]

bllk boys with a shy!reader pt. 2 (rin, nagi, & oliver)

warnings: suggestive!! 

rin: 

I feel like Rin finds you really cute

you’re in the middle of eating some cookies and a few crumbs land on your cheek

rin sighs and wipes your cheek gingerly, making a few remarks here and there but most of his insults are half-hearted

but when he leans closer and cups your face you just completely malfunction 💀💀

no thoughts at all.

and he leans back to gauge your wide-eyed look and see how look of surprise paints your face

he can literally hear how loud is heartbeat from just seeing that

his thoughts are just “oh shit that’s cute” as he just stares at you with a blank-eyed look 

like i kid you not, he’s just stone-faced while his mind is just screaming at how cute you are

you have to say his name multiple times to grab his attention but all he does is just lean in and kiss you

the kiss gets more intense and you’re like why is he acting like this all of a sudden 😭😭

he just leans away after that and goes “sorry” then leans in for another kiss

yeah. idk. he’s very touchy in private

whenever you get nervous and hide behind him, he just gives your hand a squeeze and kisses the top of your head

the first time his team saw him do that, they went 😯😯😯

he’s so soft for you he doesn’t even care that they made fun of him for a month straight 

rin isn’t very verbal when he is, it is always worth it for the both of you

especially for him

the first time he said “i love you,” you completely exploded and couldn’t maintain a single conversation with him

it was so amusing to him that he couldn’t help but chuckle, the sight making you watch in awe

anyways… he finds you very cute, like seriously. He’d do anything for you 

nagi: 

I feel like he acts oblivious to how easily flustered you are just so he could tease the shit out of you

he does it so naturally too 😭😭

believe it or not, I 100% believe this man would make a bunch of dirty jokes just to get a reaction out of you

you’re just so meek when he says dirty things so forgive him!! 

one time you weren’t paying attention to him because you were reading a book and he just took it away from you, watching as you jumped on your feet to try to reach it

“Sei just give it to me already!”

“Huh? Hmm maybe tonight.”

he said that so casually that you didn’t catch the innuendo until a few minutes later 

the moment you realized, he just shrugged and gave an amused smile 

“I didn’t say anything weird, pretty… you’re just dirty-minded” 

yeah… 💀💀

okay other than the dirty jokes and stuff… he’s understanding once you tell him that you’re pretty shy around people

he usually prefers being alone so he can empathize but he doesn’t push you to be more social

oh yeah prepare for surprise hugs 

let’s say you’re cooking up a snack or meal and all of a sudden, you find his arms circle your waist, his breath hitting your neck as he says “i’m home”

GOWNIRFQ2E[FP ?!

he’s also the type of guy to suddenly pick you up and put you on a table so he can rest on your lap

it's literally heaven for him.

he gets to see your flustered expression AND be at peace laying on your lap

so yeah.

get used to his displays of physical affection 💀💀💀💀

oliver:

oh man he’s going to love teasing you (in an affectionate way ofc)

he’s met his fair share of women and you’re the only one who’s actually tugged on his heart strings 

he thinks you’re the cutest! your meekness just brings him at ease

bro is a womanizer but he realized he had to settle down with you! like he’d be a fool not to

it happened when you were getting nervous going to a party and meeting new people 

he loves you but he was literally just admiring how good you looked in your dress 

you’re rambling and he’s just smiling because he loves when you’re open with him

but then you gaze at him with a bashful smile and say “but since you’re going i wanna go so…” 

he lowkey just stared before he was like “okay yeah i’m marrying you”

and you’re like “HUHHH????” while he’s like… “did i stutter? we’re getting married 🤨”

he’s just really soft around you

HOWEVER… like i stated before he’s gonna love teasing you

like ygs will be kissing on the couch with him hovering above you and he’ll lean in before he just stops, grinning at you coyly

you’d be sighing all meek and stuff, trying to lean closer but he just laughs 

“you gotta tell me what you want baby.” 

HE’S SUCH A TEASE UGH

and when you finally ask him to kiss you again, he goes in for a quick peck, leaning back up with a toothy grin

you’d stare at him and impulsively ask “that’s all?” and he’d just go “that’s all? what, you want more?” knowing damn well yes 😐😐😐

trying to pull him down doesn’t work either bc this man is REALLY jacked 

when he gets his fill with teasing you, he’ll just lean down and shush you with a kiss

and he makes sure it’s a kiss. the type of kiss where a hand slides down your waist while another cups your face. that kind of kiss 😩😩😩😩😩😩

once he pulls away and gauges your expression, seeing how you couldn’t even think straight and look and him, he just pats your cheek

“thought you wanted more?”

don’t take his teasing too seriously… he’s doing it bc he’s in love and that’s his love language 💀💀💀

[golbrocklovely]

privacy please // colby brock

A/N: me, posting more than once a month??? INCREDIBLE. i was midway thru writing "let's fall in love for tonight" when this idea popped into my head and i just had to write it down. part of this is inspired by a tiktok i saw of a girl talking about a time she was hooking up with a guy. i wish i could find the tiktok and share it with you all bc the moment she said what she said.... i just knew i had to include it in a fic at some point lol so shoutout to that girl. this is a short fic/blurb bc i have some other fics lined up that are gonna be full blown smut so i don't want to tucker myself out writing smut only. and if you see me using what happens in this fic in other fics.... say nothing sksks lmk what you think and i'll see you guys next time <3

prompt: you and colby just want some privacy, but the only place you can get it is in his car. || fem!reader x colby brock

trigger warning: light smut (no actual sex), cursing, making out in a car, fluff, already established relationship

word count: 1363

~~~~~~~~

"This is so ridiculous." Colby groaned, pulling away from our kiss.

I giggled, staring up at his annoyed face. "No it's not, it's kinda fun."

"How is this fun? I feel like I'm gonna pull a hamstring." He scoffed.

I sassed him, rolling my eyes. "Well, it's your fault you don't have a car big enough for your five foot eleven ass."

"I don't think I was meant to lay out horizontally in my car." He replied back, just as snarky.

"Well, blame Toyota," I sat up on my elbows, huffing. Does he think I'm comfortable in this cramped back seat? "Or better yet, Sam and Kat for wanting to have their friends over when all we want to do is fuck."

"Maybe if you weren't so loud, we could have sex in my room without everyone knowing." Colby raised an eyebrow at me daringly. I could see his bottom lip quiver as he tried to hold back a laugh.

I narrowed my eyes at him. "You never seemed to have a problem with my screaming before. I'll gladly remember next time you're begging me to say your name to be quiet."

He gasped, legitimately upset. "Begging?! I don't beg."

"'C'mon baby, say my name.'" I mocked in a deep voice. "What's that sound like to you?"

"Commanding!" He barked.

"Not when you're breathy it ain't!" I jeered sarcastically.

Colby sat up quickly, pouting jokingly. He kept my legs on his lap, his hands cupping my ankles. I sighed deeply, smiling up at the ceiling of the car. "Are you really not enjoying this?"

He chuckled, the 'tension' in the car defusing. "I enjoy any time I get to be alone with you."

I hummed, "Good to know. I think this is kinda exciting. It feels like I'm a teenager again, sneaking around with a boyfriend my mom doesn't know about."

"Am I, like, your edgy boyfriend?" He questioned, side eyeing me.

"Oh yeah. You have tattoos, wear all black, curse, drink..." I gasped, "Oh my God, you're, like, so cool."

Colby bit his lip, staring at me intensely. "Get over here."

He grabbed my wrists lightly, pulling me up. I straddled him, a soft grunt falling from his lips as a I settled onto his lap. "Much better." He murmured.

I studied his face for a moment, taking in all the little details I could. The way his hair fell, covering his forehead. The lovely shape of his eyebrows, manicured without him trying - which was honestly the most annoying thing about him. He also had surprisingly long eyelashes for a man, something I was jealous about as well. His eyes - which of course were to die for. So blue and deep. I had stared into them so many times I had lost count. I never saw the end of them, never studied them long enough to know every intricate detail about them. I don't think there would ever be enough time to do that.

"Hi." Colby whispered, softly smiling.

A light blush came to my cheeks, "Hi."

My hands cupped his face sweetly, his eyes closing at the feeling. I gazed at his cheeks; how adorable they were. I would try my best to remind him that even though he didn't like them himself, I enjoyed his "chubby" cheeks. His dimples. Oh my GOD, his dimples. If I could, I would take a picture of every time I was able to make his dimples appear. I would fill a whole photo album of just his face smiling. And I can't forget his nose. His nose was so... masculine, in an interesting way. It fit his face perfectly. Angular with a slight point.

And then of course his lips. I've had dreams of just kissing him. Of just staring at his mouth. Sometimes it's hard to pay attention to him when he talks because all I can think about is his lips and what they've done to me, and what they plan to do.

He laced his fingers through mine, finally breaking the silence in the car. "What's going on in that head of yours? You look so lost in thought."

"I'm just... looking at you." I confessed.

"You like what you see?" He mumbled.

"Love." I emphasized.

He nodded his head, his eyes filled with adoration. He rested his forehead against mine, our lips brushing. His hand slid out of mine, meeting his other on the small of my back. "You are one of the best things that has ever happened to me."

"The feeling is completely mutual." I agreed.

"Good to know...." He leaned in and pecked my lips gently, almost taking my breath away. He pushed my body into his, pressing me as closely as he could. I deepened the kiss, my fingers tugging on his hair. His tongue slid into my mouth, a moan leaving my lips. My hips naturally grinded down onto him, his hands gripping my waist a little harder from the friction.

He moved his mouth from mine, kissing down my neck and finding the perfect spot in seconds. I lulled my head back, allowing him to attack my neck with his lips and tongue and teeth. I whimpered, my hips bucking against his. He pushed his up, grinding just against the right spot to make my breath hitch. I could feel him getting harder under me, pressing against me in the most sinful way. His hands drifted to my thighs, rubbing up and down them.

"You know..." Colby chimed in, breathlessly. "I really love these fishnets."

I uttered, in a daze. "Wha-?"

He continued his motions, causing goosebumps to form on my skin, "I really like that you wear fishnets. They look so sexy on you."

I cleared my throat, finally able to think again. "Um, thank you."

"It's too bad they just take forever to get off." He somewhat grumbled, dropping his head.

I shrugged halfheartedly. "Yeah, I guess."

"How many pairs do you have?" He asked, looking back up at me.

"Of fishnets? Like five or so." I guessed.

Colby nodded. "And how much was this pair?

"What?" I squinted at him, confused. He blinked, wanting me to continue. "Uh, they were like $25."

"Okay...." He paused, his hands resting on top of my thighs. "Remind me to pay you back."

Before I could say anything, Colby's grip tightened on the fishnets. His fingers laced through the holes in the material. He pulled his arms back, ripping the fishnets with ease. I shuttered at his action, gasping in awe, anger, and lust at seeing him tear them without any problems. Feeling them rip from my body, my skin now exposed, caused heat to rush to my sex. My underwear grew even more wet as my eyes met his dark ones.

"Colby! What the fuck?!" I yelled.

"Don't tell me you didn't like that." He grew close to my face, his voice lowering, "Don't lie to me, baby."

I stammered, trying to form words under his lustful gaze. "T-That's not the point. What are you, an animal?"

"Only with you, darling." He whispered harshly.

My breath raced as I glared into Colby's eye. He had such a devilish look to him, and while I was pissed he would rip my favorite tights, it was also extremely hot.

"Fuck, I hate you." I yanked his face forward, forcing his lips onto mine deeply. He smirked against the kiss, humming a response playfully. I snaked my tongue into his mouth, needing to taste him.

He pulled away, catching his breath at my expense. "Are you sure you want to do this? I can't exactly get on top of you."

"If you have to fuck me in the trunk, then so be it. I just need you to do it now." I gripped his shirt, wanting it off his body.

He laughed darkly. "I don't know... you're demanding a lot for someone that's very breathy."

"Colby, don't fucking tease me." I grabbed his hand, sliding it into my underwear and putting his fingers against my heat. I breathed, "I'm so wet for you."

He swallowed hard, his pupils dilating. "Okay... I think we can manage something."

[ghostofwriting]

Kildare Split Part One: Angel

Chapter One: Angel

Rafe Cameron x Reader

Note: Thank you all for commenting, liking, reblogging, and interacting with the KS smau's! I really appreciate you all and thought that I would give you a little treat for being so nice. I can't sleep so here is part one of Kildare Split's story, more specifically y/n and Rafe's. Hope you have fun getting to read about the behind-the-scenes. This is absolutely not edited.

Warnings: none, bad writing, Rafe being mean.

Word Count: 3,710

Synopsis: Everyone has noticed that there's been a shift in how Kildare Split acts around each other. Rafe and Y/N used to be so close, they were always pictured together, and always shared stories of each other and for the last few years, there has been nothing from them. A behind-the-scenes look at what went down between everyone's favorite band.

The audience claps as the interviewer closes out the interview. The four of them stand up and start shaking hands with the man. One of the Jimmys or Seth or maybe even Jack. She doesn’t know. She just wants to leave. She’s so tired. It’s been such a long day of pretending. 

Y/n’s the first one to make it backstage, she breathes deeply, her back against a wooden panel. 

“Hey, you okay?” a voice comes from behind her. She puts on a smile and nods her head. 

“Yeah, Top. Fine.” He nods and gives her a half smile. 

Things aren’t the same as they used to be. They haven’t been the same in so long. Two years? Maybe three. Everything is such a blur. Time mending together. Touring helps a lot. It helps time pass, and it helps distract her. Being on stage helps too, that’s the only moment that she can pretend that everything is okay and believe it. She can look at Rafe and smile at him and it feels like before. 

Topper leaves her alone, he goes back to the guys, hanging back with them as they talk to their manager. She walks into the dressing room, gathering her stuff and waiting for Sarah to text her that they’re ready to go. 

Rafe walks into the room, alone. 

“Good job tonight.” He doesn’t look at her. He just starts shoving his belongings into a tote, grabbing some extra snacks that the show provided them. 

She’s so angry. Even still. Even after all this time. She wants to scream at him, beg him to explain himself but she can’t. So she stays quiet. 

“This has to stop.” He says, pausing his actions, still not looking at her. 

She looks at the back of his head. His hair starting to grow out from when he buzzed it, bleached from his album shoot. 

She wants to speak but she can’t. It’s like the anger chokes her up, this ball of fire stuck in her throat and she can’t get a word out because all that will come out is lava. She wants to hurt him. Wants him to feel a fraction of what she felt. And even then, she doesn’t even know if she’s in the right. Two years later and she’s still mad at him, even if she shouldn’t be. 

Sarah tried telling her to talk to him, to work it all out for the sake of the band. From her perspective, the band hasn’t suffered. The band is doing better than ever and she thinks that she deserves an award for not killing Rafe on stage. 

Sometimes she wishes she could put everything behind her and just try and be his friend again. They may never be best friends again, but she could speak to him at least. She thinks she’s civil with him though. He’s not dead so that says something. 

Rafe just sighs and sits on the counter, pulling out his phone. He’s probably texting her. His girlfriend. No, the fiance. The one he cheated on her with. Or well, sort of.

+++

Rafe and y/n met when they were 10 years old. She was friends with Sarah and always went over to her house. She thought of Sarah as her best friend until she met Rafe. Maybe it was love at first sight or a little kid crush but she grew attached. She would not leave him alone. Luckily for her, Rafe was the same way. He always followed her around, asking her to play when he saw her on the beach, at school, or if their parents ran into each other at the grocery store. 

They became inseparable and soon they added two new faces to their duo. Topper and Barry. It was early on that they knew what they wanted to do with their lives. They would put on shows for whoever wanted to watch. They would sing at the top of their lungs and smash around on every surface they could find. 

Soon after, y/n had asked her mom to put her in guitar lessons. She picked it up quickly but she always enjoyed singing more. She had bragged to Rafe about how fun her vocal lessons were and he convinced his father that he wanted to join too. It was contagious because soon enough, Topper and Barry had each claimed an instrument that they practiced every day after school for hours. They drove their parents insane. 

Rafe said that they couldn’t have two guitar players in the band and Topper refused to drop lead guitar so y/n did. Rafe was mad at Topper first but y/n reassured him that she could pick up bass quickly. They became Kildare Split on a blisteringly hot summer day in Barry’s garage. Sarah, John B, and JJ watching their rehearsal. After that, they played shows whenever they could. Dive bars, small fairs around town, and busking outside venues where established bands were playing. 

It took them from the ages of 12 to 17 to get discovered but they never let up. When they finally got signed to their label, y/n remembers crying in Rafe’s arms. She was so happy, their dreams were coming true and she was doing it with her best friends. 

Little did she know that everything would fall apart so fast. 

Childhood is pretty much lost when you’re playing stingy bars full of drunk people and drugs at 12 years old. She thought that it would get better once they had protection from managers and label heads. She was wrong. It almost became worse. Drugs were everywhere. At 17 getting drugs offered to you by a 50-year-old man who controls your entire career is pretty terrifying. She didn’t think she could say no. The boys didn’t think they could say no. It was intense. Some of them made it out better than others, and the others, well, that’s the downfall of fame at such a young age. 

There was an entire year where she probably spent half of it high out of her mind. She went from doing it out of fear of losing her career to craving it, needing it. Rafe was the same way. Topper had tried to help them both but they were too far gone. She remembers going on talk shows, but not which talk shows or who they talked to or what they talked about. She looks back on those days and feels a pit in her stomach. Losing such a big chunk of her young adult life that she can’t relive hurts. 

That’s when it all started. She was high and drunk, and Rafe was high and drunk and one thing led to another. They had never crossed that line before. After her initial crush went away, she had never thought of Rafe that way. When it happened, it felt like someone had thrown a bucket of cold water over her head. She woke up the next day and immediately regretted it. She apologized to Rafe, told him that it could never happen again and bolted. 

That’s when she cleaned her act up. She couldn’t risk their relationship, for their friendship and the band. 

One thing she should have known is that Rafe didn’t care. He wanted her and he was going to have her. And who was she to shove all her bottled-up feelings back in their little box? Who was she to deny him?

So they start their little song and dance. At first, they keep it hidden from everyone. If Topper and Barry were to find out, they would be so incredibly upset and they would tell them to stop. 

She can’t stop. She doesn’t want to stop. Not as long as Rafe wants her. 

She gets clean and she tries to help Rafe get clean too. He relapses time and time again, crawling back to her, asking for another chance. She’s been there, she knows how hard it is to get clean so of course she gives him all the chances he asks for. 

They hook up on and off for a year. They never become anything official because Rafe isn’t in the headspace to be in a relationship. He needs to focus on himself and she wants to help him and if he needs her to be his friend, that’s what she’ll be. 

“You’re friends with benefits with my brother,” Sarah says stunned. Topper and Barry had found out and ran to her to get her to talk some sense into Rafe and y/n. 

“It’s not like that.” Sarah looks at her incredulously. 

“Are you or are you not fucking my brother?” y/n doesn’t know how to respond so she stays quiet. Sarah is scary when she’s mad.

“It’s not because he’s my brother, y/n. It’s because of what he means to you.” y/n shakes her head, smiling softly. 

“Sarah, I promise you, it’s okay. Rafe and I have an agreement.” Sarah sighs and looks at her with concern.

“I just don’t want you to get hurt.” She should’ve taken Sarah’s advice. She should have put a stop to everything that minute everyone found out. She was too far gone for him though, she couldn’t leave him, not when he needed her. 

Everyone warned her. Everyone told her that it would end badly. 

“I just want you to know that if he does something, those boys will choose him. You’re the odd variable y/n, know that.” Cleo had said to her one night when they were in the tour bus, the boys off on a run. 

“I am just as important to them as Rafe is.” Or she had thought. 

On one stupid drunken night she tells Rafe that she loves him. He gapes at her not knowing what to say. 

“It’s okay, you don’t have to say anything.” She understands, of course, she does. It’s not like that between them. 

The doesn’t stop her from crying in Barry’s arms about it. She hiccups and sobs into his chest about how much she loves him and how he will never look at her that way. Barry just listens and holds her. She falls asleep in his arms. She feels so safe with him. Her best friend. 

Shit hits the fan all at once and so fast. 

Sarah sits her down one night after a show. Her adrenaline is still pumping, she wants to go jump around with the guys and run laps around the venue. 

“Sar, can we do this later?”

“This can’t wait.” The tone in her voice brings her back down to earth. It’s serious. 

“What’s wrong?” y/n knows it’s about Rafe before Sarah opens her mouth. She feels it, there’s a shift in whatever the hell universe she’s been living in. Her face feels hot, her ears are ringing, and she feels like she starts to shake. 

“Rafe is seeing someone.” Of course, he is. She’s y/n she’s just his friend.

A friend that he sleeps with. A friend that has stayed up all night with him as he detoxed. A friend who drove him to and from meetings, that drove him to rehab and told everyone that he was on vacation. She was the person that he would run to when any little thing went wrong, she held him as he cried about their career not going anywhere and having to go back to work for his dad. She let him sob in her arms about all the shit that they have been through during the lift-off of their career. She was there for him, always for him and he promised her. He promised that he would always be there for her that it was only her. That he only ever wanted her and when he got his shit together they could be together. He told her that he wasn’t sleeping around. He didn’t have time for girlfriends, he didn’t have time to put in the work on a relationship because he could barely put the work into himself. He told her that she was the only one he was ending his nights with and waking up in the mornings with. He promised her the world and it was all just a lie. 

Just as fast as her body starts shaking, it relaxes, she takes a deep breath and looks at Sarah, the look of concern still on her face. 

“Who?” she asks lowly. 

“This painter, named Sofia.” The name rings a bell. She thinks she’s seen her call Rafe a few times. 

“That’s okay. We weren’t dating.” Sarah’s concern grows so y/n smiles at her. 

“Let’s go back out there.”

“Do you want me to call Cleo?” Sarah asks. 

“I’m good, Sar.”

And she is. Or at least she’s trying to be good. She has no right to be angry. They weren’t dating. He doesn’t owe her anything. 

They walk into the room where the guys are playing video games. Waiting for the fans to leave the venue before it’s safe for them to leave. 

“Hey! Great show tonight angel!” Rafe says looking away from the screen at her. She gives him a short smile, her face pensive. 

Cleo’s words ring in her head, those boys will choose him those boys will choose him those boys will choose him.

She knows all three of them like the back of her hand. Topper's lip quivers when he lies. Barry doesn’t look you in the eyes. And Rafe, Rafe’s ears turn red. 

She has to know if the two boys, men, that she grew up with and calls her family, would keep that from her. 

“So who’s Sofia?” She watches as all three of them tense. She’s looking between Barry and Topper but she sees Rafe turn to look at Sarah with anger between his brows from her peripherals. 

She looks for the cues and hopes that she can’t find them. It’s hard to miss when Barry doesn’t look up from his controller but is frozen, quiet. She looks at Topper, his mouth open, trying to find something to say.

“I don’t know, some person we commissioned probably.” She can’t help the breathy sob that escapes her lips when she sees the quiver on Topper’s. 

She swallows hard, she turns to Rafe, shaking her head at him and backing away. 

“You’re a liar. You’re a fucking liar. All of you are.” She backs into the hallway, her eyes still floating from one to the other. 

“y/n-” Topper moves towards her but she holds her hand out and cuts him off.

“No. Stay away from me. I never- I-” she chokes on a sob. “ I never would have done this to you. Don’t talk to me, don’t follow me, just stay away from me.” She turns on her feet and books it out of the room and hallway, she hears Rafe chewing Sarah out but doesn’t stay long enough to hear what Sarah says. 

Things are awkward, to say the least from then on. She stayed in her bunk and silently cried herself to sleep. She wants to go to him, ask him what she could have done, ask him what happened and when he knew he wanted to stop things with her. He doesn’t come to see her that night, or the next night or the night after that. 

At first, she thought it was because he was giving her time to cool off but on the third night of complete silence from him, she walks into the dressing room of their show in Nashville and a pretty girl with short hair sits on the couch. 

“Hi, I’m Sofia. You must be y/n.” She extends her hand out and y/n takes it. 

“Nice to meet you.” y/n says. 

“You too, sorry about how things went down.” Y/n scrunches up her nose, her head tilting. 

“What?” She asks.

“I mean, I knew he had to choose eventually, he just didn’t get the chance to tell you.” She feels like she’s going to throw up. She wasn’t planning on hating Sofia, but she knew. Sofia knew that y/n existed and she still kept on seeing him. 

She walks out of the room. 

That same night, everything changed. If he had just apologized, if he had told her that he fucked up and he was too drugged up to think clearly, she would have forgiven him. That’s not what happened. 

She runs into Rafe in the lunch area and can’t hold in all her feelings. She needs to know what he’s thinking and wants to ask him to explain himself. 

“Rafe?” He doesn’t acknowledge her. 

“Can we please talk?”

“God Y/n, I don’t want to fucking talk. I’m so goddamn tired of you moping around this place like you have any right.” He explodes at her, his face red. 

“What?” She’s shocked, he’s never talked to her like this. 

“You’re just some girl I fucked okay? I needed to get off and you were always there. You were just a fuck. I don’t care about you like that.” He pauses. His words sank into her like knives. 

“I’m going to get clean for her. Sofia, she’s worth it.” He walks out of the room without saying anything else to her. She feels her eyes start to water, chills running up and down her body.

How could he be so cruel? How could her best friend of so many years say he doesn’t care about her? How could he disregard her feelings and belittle her to be just someone he fucked? She thought they were friends. She believed that they would come out of this situation unscathed but he didn’t even see her as a person. 

The people she thought cared about her most in the world, didn’t care about her at all. They all chose someone else. They didn’t choose her. 

She had never felt so alone in her entire life. And for the first time since they started their journey as a band, she wondered if any of it had been worth it. 

+++

“I don’t think it can stop.” It’s the first time you’ve spoken to him directly and not on stage or in an interview in years. 

“What do you mean?”

“I’m going to move out of LA, back home probably or New York with Cleo and Pope.”

“y/n.” It’s not Rafe’s voice saying her name, it’s Barry from behind her. She turns around and looks at him, looks past him and Topper, and then back at Rafe.”

“I think we all know this has been building up and it’s getting really hard to pretend all the time so um-yeah I’m going to go, I need a break after the tour’s over.” She gulps down the ball building in her throat. She needs to get through this. She hates putting the band on the back burner and hates that she’s to blame.

“What are you talking about?” Rafe asks her, getting off the counter.

“It’s just a break. I think we should announce a prolonged hiatus and just do our own thing for a bit.”

“We have an entire third album to record,” Rafe says incredulously.

“I’ll keep writing and you can send me the vocals you want me to lay down. It’ll be fine.”

“You’re breaking up the band over some stupid grudge?” Rafe asks. 

“That’s not what I’m saying. I just need some time.” It’s not a grudge.

“You have got to be kidding me, y/n, come on. I know how much you love touring and making music.”

“I do,” her voice breaks, “I just need time away from all of you.”

“You need a break from us? What did we do?” Barry pipes in.

“You left me alone. You let him,” she points at Rafe, “belittle me and make me feel like nothing. You isolated me for two years.” Rafe scoffs. 

“You did that yourself.” He sounds hurt more than he does angry. He’s different now. He’s better in a way. He hasn’t apologized to her but he’s good now. He’s clean. He got clean for Sofia. Because she was worth it and y/n wasn’t. 

“Because I was hurt, Rafe! You broke my heart. I fucking told you that I loved you, I was honest with my feelings for you and you never said anything back and then you told me you didn’t care about me!”

“I wasn’t in my right mind.” The tears are still gathering in her eyes but she refuses to let them fall. 

“If you had just apologized to me, this wouldn’t have happened but you said some nasty shit and never looked back and I was just so alone.”

“Do you know what it’s like to have no one to talk to on tour for months on end? That’s what I have had to go through for years because I don’t trust any of you! Because you hurt me and never apologized.”

“I’m sorry. I know it’s late but I’m sorry.” Topper is the one that speaks up. 

“Thank you, but it’s too late. I need some time. I need to heal so that the band can continue because I don’t think I can do this for much longer if I stay.” Topper nods, agreeing with her. She gives him a thankful smile and breathes in deep. 

“Okay, so we finish the tour, and a week or so later we announce that we’re going on a break. We’ll still write and record and we can even release the album but I won’t be doing press for it.” She looks at all three of them and nods. There’s a finality to her words. No room for argument. 

“And you have your solo album to figure out and do press for, maybe you can even tour it. You’ll be fine.” She says to Rafe, more words than she had said to him directly in a long time.

“I’ll see you all soon.” With that, she walks out of the talk show’s dressing room, towards the exit of the building. She was going to finish up this tour. She could do that and then she could rest.

[lavouredior]

I saw that you wanted bunny reader thoughts🤭🤭

How about Vox x Bunny reader where they go to a bar (it’s bunny’s first time) and Vox has to go to the bathroom or something (maybe to get drinks?) but while he’s gone… some dirty sinners start to terrorize her and make fun of her and her bunny toy and then she gets upset and starts crying, THEN Vox to the rescue!!

-just an idea (it’s my first ever request)

SCREAMING !!!!!!!! I ABSOLUTELY LOVE THIS REQUEST AND YALL KNOW I LOVE MY BUNNY READER, this is pretty much a series at this point so . . . more bunny!reader the better i say.

ALSO bunny reader has basically developed into her own character at this point and i have a TONNNN of ideas for her backstory and such so if you have any ideas PLEASE ask them in my requests because i would LOVE to share them with you!!!!

warnings: catcalling ( or i guess bunnycalling in this context . . . ), bunny!reader per usual is short, drinking ( vox, he’s not letting bunny!reader drink ), bunny!reader is treated like a kid, she/her pronouns used.

Saving Baby Bunny

vox had a TON of meetings and loved to go to the bar after a long day of work. except this time he had his new little bunny girlfriend with him.

he adored spending times with you but was slightly scared how you’d react to the atmosphere, but you told him you were ready for him and he believed you.

you guys were sitting in a booth, vox was chatting with his friends while you were just cuddled up to him holding your bunny stuffed animal. you didn’t pay any attention to your boyfriends conversations, you knew they didn’t matter to you.

you weren’t pay attention to anything vox was saying until he moved ur head off of his chest. “princess, i have to go get some drinks, i’ll be right back and i’ll bring u back a juice if they have any okay?” you just nodded.

vox left and took longer than you expected, it had been around 10 minutes and he was still gone. you were fine until sinners you’ve never seen before sat down with you. “oh if it isn’t vox’s little whore.” you just sank in your seat trying to ignore the sinners hoping they’d go away.

“no wonder vox is sleeping with her she’s one hot little bunny.” you just looked down at ur bunny stuffed animal trying to ignore them more. “one hot pathetic bunny.” another sinner said before grabbing your stuffed animal from you, causing your eyes to start to tear up.

“oh little bunny’s gonna cry because she don’t have her little stuffy?” all you could do is pull you knees to your chest and hope vox would come back soon.

“give her the stuffed animal back.” the sinners started laughing “yeah right! who are you to-” he stopped causing you to look up confused as to why they’re stopping. “give her the stuffed animal back and leave her alone.” you couldn’t see who was talking which confused you on why they were listening, especially when one sinner handed you back the stuffed animal and muttered an apology

that was until the man you couldn’t see before sat next to you. “i’m sorry princess.” you wiped your tears noticing it was your boyfriend who ended up coming back. “vox!!!!” he smiled pulling you onto his lap. “i’m sorry i left you princess i didn’t think anyone would dare bother you.”

“it okay.” he smiled more as you wrapped your arms around him. “there’s my princess.” he noticed you start to smile and he immediately booped your nose causing you to giggle.

[alittlebitofloveliness]

It’s not until he’s already whaling on the kid that Paul realises exactly who it is he’s decided to jump.

He’d been out for a drive with Ty, shooting the shit and showing off the new Camaro his dad bought him for his birthday when they spotted the greaser kid- a guy with slicked back reddish brown hair, small but tough looking like all the kids from the east side, walking alone down one of the back roads. One look and a grin shared with Ty was all it took before he was shooting down the street, forcing the kid to jump into the ditch or risk getting run over.

Ty had laughed, mirth shining in his handsome green eyes as the greaser sprang to his feet, swearing colourfully. Paul wasn’t gonna pretend to have any sort of love for the east side, but he couldn’t deny that greaser folk didn’t turn out any sissies. For all the kid probably wasn’t more than fourteen, his greyish eyes didn’t show a trace of fear. Annoyance more than anything, and something that looked like…recognition, maybe? Didn’t matter much. What came next was the fun part- greasers didn’t break easy. It was always fun to see how much they could take before they finally started crying for their mothers.

In the time it took for Paul and Tson to get out of the car, the greaser had snatched up a broken beer bottle and leaned into a defensive slouch.

“Hey Buddy,” Ty grinned.

“Fuck off.” The kid spat, gripping the bottle tighter. Paul took a step closer to him and…there! The kid’s eyes- which had been laser focused on him and Ty- flashed left. 

“Not so fast,” Paul stepped sideways, effectively boxing the kid in. In the ditch, with a barbed wire fence from an old farm at his back, the camaro blocking any escape to the right, Ty in front of him, and now Paul at his left, the kid was well and truly trapped. Paul could see the moment he realized it, a flash of unease flitting over his face before smoothing into a tough mask once more.

“You know Ty,” Paul said, “I think this kid needs to learn some manners. And I think we should teach them to him. What do you think?”

Ty grinned. “Y’know Paul, I think you’re right.”

The kid spat at him. Saliva dripped down Ty’s face, his friend apparently too stunned to do anything but blink at him. 

The greaser snickered.

Paul lunged. 

For all the kid’s bravado and tough facade, even with that bottle in his hand, he’s still just a kid. Paul is twenty now, a linebacker for the University of Alabama, not afraid of a kid who could swing a bottle but not hard enough. He’s got him down in a second. 

The first punch shatters the kid’s nose, blood immediately pouring down his face. It still takes two more hits before he starts screaming. When he does, Paul’s blood runs cold

“Darry!” The kid, no longer tough looking by any means, cries out, “Darry help! Darry!”

The name, torn from the past Paul had worked so hard to forget, pulls him up short. He remembers now, Darry Curtis always speaking with fond exasperation about his two little brothers, about how one of them always tracked mud through the house and drove their mother crazy, and the other one climbed trees and got stuck in them because he couldn’t remember how to get down.

He also remembers the time Darry found out someone was picking on his brother, the one who was a freshman back when they were seniors. They practically had to peel the guy off the pavement when Darry was done with him.

Shit.

There’s a lot of things he remembers about Darry Curtis. He can’t decide whether they make him wish he’d punched the kid harder or never punched him at all.

The kid, Darry’s little brother, takes advantage of Paul’s brief distraction, bucking his hips and rolling. It’s a good maneuver, one that probably would have managed to throw Paul off if it weren’t for Ty grabbing the kid’s hair and slamming his head back against the ground.

Ty starts punching him then, and all Paul can do is sit there half frozen, seeing Darry’s eyes in someone else's face, his sharp jawline framing someone else’s mouth, his weird, sticking out ears on someone else’s head, all the features beat to a bloody pulp.

And all the while the kid keeps screaming.

“Darry! Soda! Help! Johnny, Steve, Dally, anyone! Please! Darry!”

It’s too much. Whatever he and Darry once had, whatever happened between them, no matter how bad it ended, it shouldn’t have come to this. There shouldn’t be a mixture of dark satisfaction and soul crushing guilt warring in his heart at the sight of Darry’s brother bloody and bruised. 

Ty’s fist raises once again and the kid on the ground flinches, cries.

Paul reaches out to grab Ty’s shoulder, to tell him it’s enough, that they should get out of here, to escape from the memories and the guilt and the rage.

He never gets a chance.

“‘Hey asshole!” Before he can grab Ty’s shoulder someone else grabs his shoulder and punches him hard enough he feels his teeth rattle in his skull. He stumbles back, clutching his cheek and looks up into the coldest eyes he’s ever seen, a glittering, intelligent, blue-so-deep-it’s-black shining with malice. A thick scar peeks out of his attacker’s hairline, but other than that the guy’s smooth brown skin is largely unmarked, features handsome in a dangerous sort of way. His head tilts, the way a cat’s might before it pounces on its prey, as he pulls a switchblade from his pocket, clicking it open. The handle is worn but the blade is no joke, six inches of razor sharp steel, glittering in the sunlight. 

Paul gulps. He’s not stupid enough to bring fists to a knife fight and he sure as hell doesn't have a blade on him.

The guy notices because he grins, revealing pearly white teeth and canines just a bit sharper than the average person’s.

Paul opens his mouth, to say what exactly he isn’t sure, but before he can he’s interrupted by a scream. Except this time it’s not the kid’s- it’s Ty’s.

He whirls with a gasp to see Darry Curtis on top of Ty, knuckles already bloody from hitting him so hard. Beside them, the greaser kid has managed to pull himself to his knees, an impressive feat considering the state he’s in.

Questions and emotions swirl through Paul’s head so fast he feels dizzy. How could Darry have snuck up on them so fast and so quietly? Did he really hear the kid screaming? Who’s the guy with him?

The guy with him…

His distraction is his fatal mistake, because he turned his back on the guy with the knife, who has him in a headlock with a blade against his throat before he can so much as yell.

“So,” the guy with the knife says in his ear. He’s disarmingly casual, for all he could kill Paul at any moment if he so chose, “you’re the famous Paul, huh?”

Fear, cold and paralyzing, floods through him.

“How the fuck do you know my name?”

The guy with the knife chuckles, grabbing him by the hair and forcing him to watch as Ty’s face gets bloodier and bloodier, his handsome features turned into a crime scene. There’s an almost animalistic rage in Darry’s eyes, a look Paul’s only seen once before, and he knows that when Darry pulls his punches it will only be because he feels justice has been served.

“I know everythin’ that happens in this town,” the knife at his neck doesn’t waver so much as an iota, as his captor laughs again, “and I heard a lot about you Paul Holden. Football star but never good enough to be captain. A bigger petty thief than half us east side boys, but daddy always bought you out of it. And apparently a big fan of jumping little kids- y’know, like a coward.”

Paul growls, trying to twist loose from the guy’s hold, but the greaser is stronger than his wiry frame belies, and he’s still got the advantage of a knife in hand. He presses it close enough that a small bead of blood wells against the steel and Paul stops struggling.

“Maybe I am a coward,” Paul grits out, panting, whether from fear or exertion he doesn’t know, “but Darry Curtis isn’t any braver than me.”

The knife bites into his neck a tad deeper. 

“Darry isn’t the one who just jumped a little kid.”

Paul grins. “That’s not what I meant.”

“You’re full of shit.” The guy’s voice is as measured and cool as ever, but the grip on Paul’s hair tightens painfully and he knows he’s hit a nerve.

“Maybe,” Paul admits, “but I’m not wrong. You’re his new guy, right? Well he fucks good but he’ll betray you in the end, just like he did me-”

A burning flash and his cheek is suddenly pouring blood.

“Watch. Your. Mouth.” The guy snarls, “Or next time I won’t just cut your pretty face I'll cut your damn throat.” 

Paul falls silent, not willing to call his bluff. Mostly because he isn’t entirely sure the guy is bluffing. Whoever Darry’s got himself mixed up with now is a whole lot more dangerous to him and probably for him than Paul ever was.

Figures.

He focuses back on Ty and Darry’s fight. Darry’s got a black eye and a small cut on his temple, so apparently Ty has managed to fight back a little, but he’s still a lot worse off, still pinned by Darry, face a twisted mess of what it once was.

“Darry,” the kid has managed to stumble to his feet, the eye that isn’t already swollen shut, wide and horrified, “Darry stop. C’mon, that’s enough, you're gonna kill him.”

Paul sees the moment Darry comes back to himself, watches as the feral look in his eyes melts into concern and pain so deep it would have cut twelfth grade Paul to the bone. Hell, it does something to him now.

“He deserves it, Ponyboy,” Darry says, “look what he did to your face!”

“I’m fine Dar,” the kid tries for a grin, but the blood in his teeth defeats the point of any sort of reassurance, “let’s just go home. Ain’t like he’s gonna try anything now.”

On the ground, Ty moans something incomprehensible. Shit, Paul’s going to have to take him to a hospital when they get out of this.

“Yeah,” Darry nods like he’s trying to convince himself, “yeah okay. Go ahead an’ git in the car okay? Me’n Tim’ll be there in a second.”

He’s talking full grease, the way he always used to when he was real upset, and Paul can’t help the satisfaction that runs through him at the sound of it. 

“Ok, just…don’t do anythin’ you’ll regret,” the kid starts limping in the direction of a beat up pickup truck Paul hadn’t noticed before, casting wary glances over his shoulder the whole time. He’s lifted the hem of his shirt to press against his nose but it doesn’t seem to be doing much to staunch the flow of blood.

Paul looks back at Darry and finds himself staring into the coldest eyes he’s ever seen. He used to think those eyes were beautiful, back in high school, when they twinkled with mirth or glittered with determination. Some part of him acknowledges that they’re still beautiful now, even filled with hatred. 

They stare at each other for a moment, Darry standing over the body of Paul’s new best friend who they both know is probably more than that, Paul with Darry’s new lover's knife held tight against his neck.

In those seconds he remembers everything they ever were, ever fought for, fought because of, why he left. He remembers meeting Darry in eighth grade and immediately being drawn to him in a way he could never properly explain. He remembers the first time they kissed, in tenth grade, the fear that had gripped him but the longing that had claimed him, making terror a backseat to passion. He remembers two years of dreaming, days and nights, soft lips and warm hands and a body like a greek god, remembers when longing gave way to love. He remembers screaming and fighting and words neither of them could ever take back. Remembers leaving. Remembers regretting it. Remembers trying to go back and Darry refusing him. Remembers heartbreak. Remembers rage.

Darry punches him.

Pain blooms across his jaw and he swears he feels a tooth crack, the only thing stopping him from hitting the ground the fact that Darry’s guy still has him in a vicelike grip.

“If you ever,” Darry spits through gritted teeth, and there’s no forgiveness in those eyes, no nostalgia, only hate, “lay a finger on my little brother again, I swear to god I’ll kill you.”

He won’t, Paul knows, because Darry is and always has been too good for this earth, and that hasn’t changed even if he now wears anger the way he used to wear arrogance- but he isn’t going to test that theory. There’s plenty of other greaser kids to jump that don’t come with dredging up the worst memories of his past.

Darry gives him one last disgusted look and spits at his feet, before his gaze slides to Paul’s captor. Tim, Darry had called him earlier.

“Ready to go?” The ever so slight softness in Darry’s eyes when he looks at Tim- crazy fucking Tim who is holding Paul at knifepoint- shouldn’t bother him nearly as much as it does. The fact that it bothers him at all leaves a bitter twist in his stomach.

“Yeah,” Tim agrees, “I'll be there in a second. You go check on the kid, the way he was walkin’ I think he mighta sprained his ankle.”

Darry nods, concern lighting once more in his eyes, and he jogs over to the car, immediately shaking his kid brother awake who had fallen asleep against the window.

Tim’s knife skates over Paul's neck, not deepening the shallow cut, but definitely drawing it longer.

“Listen here Holden,” he practically croons, pulling Paul’s head back, “you and I both know Darry would never make good on his promise. I on the other hand,” the knife flashes and Tim opens yet another cut on his cheek. Paul howls. “Have no such qualms. So if you go near any of the Curtis boys ever again, I will kill you.” His voice softens, a murmur so low Paul can hardly hear it despite Tim being quite literally right beside him, “I’ve done it before. I know how to not get caught. So if you think for a second that I am lying…”

He turns Paul in his grip so they’re suddenly face to face. 

“Call my bluff.”

He shoves him, hard, and Paul stumbles back, landing hard on his ass beside Ty who seems only semi conscious, lying supine on the ground. 

Tim smiles, like he didn’t just threaten Paul’s life and confess to murder in the same breath, before turning on his heel and making his way over to the car, climbing into the driver's seat.

Paul’s past and his new bogeyman drive away and he sits in the ditch for a long time, too terrified- or maybe just too shocked- to move.

[genshingorlsrevengeance]

(H:SR) Natasha, Bronya, and Seele's S/O getting scared by a movie

No one requested this, I just wanna be held by the pretty Nurse.

Amazingly, Natasha had the next few days off instead of having to bend over backwards at the clinic, or watching over the kids.

She had several reliable people doing so, which meant she could finally relax with her S/O.

(S/O) "After dinner, what do you want to do?"

(Natasha) "Hm...I think for tonight maybe just staying home, if that's okay."

(S/O) "Oh! It'd give us an excuse to watch a movie together!"

Natasha's eyes widened in surprise.

(Natasha) "You found a device that can play movies?"

(S/O) "Yeah, I bought it for cheap, and it came with a movie inside already. I think it was a...horror one?"

Natasha smiled as she thought about the idea, it wasn't grand, but it sounded absolutely perfect.

...Wait, horror? Didn't S/O hate horror?

(S/O) "I know that look you're giving me. I'll be fine, it's probably some super old slasher flick."

(Natasha) "You don't even know what it is?"

(S/O) "How bad could it be?"

...

Natasha's smile couldn't get any bigger as she watched the terrified expression on S/O's face.

Their eyes were glued to the screen and arms holding on tightly to Natasha.

(Natasha) "Dear, are you doing alright?"

(S/O) "J-JUST FINE..."

She chuckled, putting her full weight and relaxing onto S/O, who in contrast felt as stiff as a rock.

(Natasha) "I can cure a lot of things, S/O, but I can't cure getting the life scared out of you."

(S/O) "V-Very funny, Natasha...!"

Natasha enjoyed having S/O hold her so tightly. Admittedly, it made her feel a little sleepy, despite the horrific scenes she was watching on the screen.

(Natasha) "I feel like I could go to bed, how about you?"

(S/O) "Not for a week..."

(Natasha) "I think even the kids have more resilience-"

(S/O) "LOOK! Ghosts freak me out, okay?! And you better not tell them that, I don't want them terrorizing me with that knowledge!"

Natasha giggled before rubbing a hand on their back, attempting to calm them down.

(Natasha) "Full patient confidentiality with me, dear."

During the next few nights, she felt like an oversized plush with how tightly S/O hugged her.

Bronya was extremely busy in her duties, so much so that she felt terrible about leaving S/O alone for so many days.

When they approached her for an offer to spend the night together, she couldn't refuse.

Not that she wanted to, of course.

(Bronya) "What did you have in mind?"

S/O reached into their pocket and pulled out a small disc.

(S/O) "I was handed this movie by Seele, she said we should watch it together for a date."

(Bronya) "By Seele? Hm, what is it?"

(S/O) "...Eh? A Horror movie?!"

Bronya recoiled as well before putting some thought into it.

(Bronya) "I have never gotten to watch a movie for fun, much less a horror film...Let's do it!"

S/O slightly hesitated, but seeing the gleam in her eye, they couldn't refuse.

Not that they wanted to, of course.

...

As much as some scenes freaked her the hell out, she was actually having a lot of fun!

Bronya didn't have many opportunities to enjoy her time doing something so normal, so this was a new experience for her.

Especially getting to share it with the one she loved, it couldn't get much better than this.

...Well, maybe if it weren't for the fact S/O was practically in her lap, shivering as they held her tightly.

(Bronya) "If the movie is too much, S/O, we can always just-"

(S/O) "N-NO! I'll be fine, you're enjoying it, so I am too!"

Bronya raised an eyebrow, watching them tremble.

(Bronya) Obviously, that's a lie.

But at the same time, she was flattered. They wanted to make sure that she was enjoying herself, despite the fact she meant this time spent together to be an apology to S/O.

She smiled, oblivious to the blood curdling scream emerging from the screen that made S/O yelp.

Bronya quietly laughed to herself before wrapping her arms around S/O, watching the screen with a smile.

Before getting jumpscared in sync with S/O, both of them latching onto each other.

Seele threw her shoes off in her apartment, sitting down on the couch with her S/O.

(Seele) "Ugh, finally. I can rest..."

(S/O) "Busy as always?"

(Seele) "Trouble's always brewing, but...things have been getting a bit easier now."

She put her head on their lap, mindlessly playing with their hair as her arm lifted to touch their face.

(Seele) "Got some time off for a little while. Wanna do anything?"

(S/O) "Hm...Oh, isn't there a movie you said you wanted to watch?"

It took a moment before Seele remembered what they were talking about, shooting upright.

(Seele) "Right! Yeah, Caelus gave me a horror movie that he said a friend gave him. Plug in that little box below the TV, that plays the movie."

She quickly went to grab a snack from the pantry before hopping onto the couch with S/O, noting the worried look on their face.

Seele knew they didn't like that genre, but maybe it'd be fine because she was here?

...

S/O was lifelessly still, fitting given the movie.

Seele lazily munched on some chips as she watched the screen, unphased by the gruesome sights.

(Seele) "Hm. This plot's kinda dumb. What do you thi-"

Seele noticed S/O was shaking, their attention glued onto the screen, which made a smirk grow across her lips.

(Seele) "...Boo!"

(S/O) "GAH!"

She laughed at how far S/O had jumped on the couch.

(Seele) "Jeez, didn't realize this flick would freak you out so bad."

(S/O) "You absolutely did!"

Seele didn't deny that, and instead just cuddled closer to S/O.

(Seele) "Don't worry, I'll protect you from whatever big bad is out to getcha."

(S/O) "Y-You better!"

Seele let one hand cusp their cheek, which she felt them relax into, seemingly calming them down.

It made her heart skip a beat that she could be such a calming presence for someone, despite how she normally was.

And then a loud noise startled S/O, making them almost drop Seele, which she was slightly annoyed but highly amused by.

She has to resist the urge to scare the hell out of them when they're going to sleep since S/O had Seele in a near death grip.

[pradabambie]

the roommate. rafe cameron x reader x felix catton. pt. 5

masterlist

a/n: yay! part 5 is finally here. this is the last part of this little fic, maybe sometime in the future i'll make a little blurb on reader taking felix back to obx on winter break, but idk yet. hope u like it! <3

it was early in the morning when felix realized he’d left his history book at the dorm. he got up, threw a jersey on and made his way on to the room the both of you shared. 

he was about to push the key in when he heard it 

“y-yes rafey, fuck, feels so good” 

his jaw dropped at the pornographic sound coming out of your mouth and past the thick wooden door, going straight to his cock. 

his brows furrowed in pleasure just imagining the face you were making, panting out of you pink pouty lips and eyes rolling to the back of your head. 

his pants tightened. that should be him making you scream and moan and beg, not goddamned rafe. 

felix decided to turn around and leave the book behind, rather than spending the class with sticky pants. 

two days. he just had to survive two whole days and then rafe would be gone, and he’d have you all to himself again. 

but rafe's intention wasn’t to go unnoticed for the rest of his stay; it was quite the opposite. 

obviously, he had rented a huge room at a five-star hotel close to campus, but he made sure to spend every possible moment in the dorm that you and felix shared. 

he accompanied you to each of your classes, buying you coffee, carrying your books, and wrapping his massive bicep around your small shoulders to make sure "every nerd on the quad knows you’re mine” 

felix was going fucking crazy. 

strangely, he began to feel grateful for the endless classes you both shared, as it was the only time he could have your undivided attention, without the tall blonde trying to steal you away. 

at the end of the third and final class of the day, both of you slowly headed towards the exit, trying to avoid the whirlwind of exhausted students stuck in a hurried attempt to escape the classroom. 

"so, you wanna get some sushi or what? it's friday, you know? our tradition..." felix gave you the biggest puppy eyes ever, begging for some extra alone time with you. 

"lex... you know i can't leave rafe alone. he came all the way here, and he's leaving soon, and-" 

he stopped you before you could continue. "i know, i know. so, let's just make an exception this time and invite him. it'll be fun!" felix was trying to convince himself more than you. 

"really? sure! i'll go tell him right now!" you started to run towards the cafe where rafe was working while he waited for you to finish. "thanks, lex! i promise we'll have the best time!" you yelled before turning the corner. felix smiled until you disappeared. 

"best time ever," he mumbled while kicking a small rock, making his way back to the dorm. 

a couple of hours later, the three of you were entering the small but bustling sushi restaurant, taking the corner table that felix and you reserved every friday, adding an extra chair, of course. 

after the three of you ordered the food, silence invaded the cramped wooden table, your mind racing a thousand miles a minute, trying to find some topic the three of you could talk about. 

the atmosphere was thick with tension as rafe made himself comfortable, effortlessly slipping into the role of the possessive boyfriend he was used to being in.  

his rough hand, large and commanding, played with the rings on your fingers, an action that didn't go unnoticed by felix. 

rafe seemed unfazed, enjoying his position of control.  

he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered something that made you giggle.  

felix's jaw tightened as he struggled to maintain composure. he wanted to get the hell out of there and fuck the brains out of the first girl that crossed his sight, all while thinking of you, and the sounds he heard outside the dorm that day. 

"so... how was class?" rafe asked, attempting to break the silence, but his eyes remained fixed on felix, a silent challenge embedded in his gaze. 

felix, now feeling cornered, decided to play along. "oh, you know, the usual," he replied, his tone laced with sarcasm. “me and your girl here took some notes, didn’t we? huh?” he grinned at you and you let out a giggle. 

"for sure, ollie didn't even notice!" you laughed harder now, recalling what happened in class just a few hours ago. 

rafe was furious at the little inside jokes that the two of you seemed to share, which prompted him to move one of his hands to your hair, playing with it while trying to calm down and control his jealousy. 

he pressed a soft kiss on your temple, faking a laugh to try to disguise his feelings. 

as the dinner progressed, rafe's bold moves continued, making felix more and more irritated. 

your boyfriend draped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer, as if to assert his dominance, his fingers finding the dainty black strap of the dress you decided to wear, and toying with it, teasing not only you, but felix as well. 

every touch, every glance seemed like a deliberate move to stake his claim.  

felix, now more annoyed than ever, struggled to hide his frustration behind a facade of indifference. 

“i’m surprised you haven’t introduced me to your girl, catton.” rafe smirked “except, of course, you don’t have one” he mocked, making you send a disapproving look his way. 

“rafe, shut up” 

“no, no it’s okay i mean he’s just curious” felix knew perfectly well the intent hiding behind rafe’s words “i’m not a one-woman man, still trying to find the right one y’know?” 

his big brown eyes flashed a quick look at you, blood rushed into your cheeks almost automatically. 

“i'm actually meeting with a candidate after dinner”  

the boys shared a laugh, but the comment made your stomach turn. 

who was this girl felix was meeting and why didn’t he mention this before? was this a lie to look cool in front of rafe? but most importantly, why did you care this much if he went off with a girl? what was wrong with you? 

the check coming to the table snapped you out of your trance. 

you and rafe decided to spend the night in his hotel room, you know, just in case felix decided to take his “date” back there and you sure as hell didn’t need to see that. 

just a couple minutes had passed since you entered the room, and rafe already had you lying in bed, planting sloppy wet kisses on your neck and making his way to your -already soaked- panties.  

“so needy huh?” he groaned as he slipped a finger in. 

you whined a pathetic “yes”, as he pushed another finger inside you. 

unexpectedly he pulled both fingers out, ripping your pink panties off and filling you out, making your eyes roll back. 

“are you gonna miss this dick?” you nodded as moans left your pink puffy lips. “use your words sweet girl” 

“yes rafe, i'll miss your dick so f-fucking much” you cried out. 

after making you cum a couple times, you found yourselves curled up in bed, your boyfriend’s hands tracing patterns on your exposed back. 

you dazed off and before you knew it, it was already the next day, and you were standing inside the airport, wiping a few tears that had escaped your eyes. 

“i promise i'll be there as soon as i can” you sniffed “winter break is in a couple weeks, and i'll go home” 

rafe gave you one final hug, and a couple moments later you were having at him as he made his way to the platform. 

he saw you check your mascara on your phone screen, which made him smile. 

and he saw as you exited the airport, the tall brunette offering you a comforting hug, and getting you into a cab. 

[he-goes-down]

Hiii I don’t know if you take requests if you don’t I’m so very sorry but could you maybe make one where axl caughts reader his gf masturbating when he comes home from tour and then smut ??❤️

OFC! AND I DO TAKE REQUESTS DONT FRET 🫶

YOURE THE SWEETEST DONT BE SORRY

Masterlist

Speedin’ Back To My Baby

Pairing: Axl Rose x Reader

Warnings: smut, masterbating unprotected p in v, dirty talk

Second Person POV:

Axl had been gone out this tour for longer than you could stand. You missed him deeply. Needing and wanting him every night before you go to be as your mind starts to drift off. The only other option to fix your needs was doing it yourself.

It was late night, your boyfriend had made it a point to come back a day earlier to surprise you. Flowers in hand, creeping into the house. Getting closer to your shared room. But as he got closer he heard you. Heard you moaning. Rage began to fill his veins. Were you cheating on him? If you were he was going to make this new guy have hell to pay. He lurked and peaked into your room, but only to find alone, with your fingers. He watched as you pleased yourself, mumbling and whining his name as your hips bucked up into your hand. “Shit…” he groaned silently, watching the pornographic scene in-front of him. Your heard the small grunt he made and looked in the direction only to find Axl’s piercing eyes staring at you. You screamed in surprise and your first instinct was to cover yourself up. “Ax- you’re back…?” You breathed out. “See you were having fun without me.” He smirked as he set the flowers down on the end table and came to sit next to your semi naked self. “I was just-…” “Mmm, save the excuses for later, I heard everything and I’m back for you.” He spoke lowly as he kissed your neck trailing up to your cheek and smirking against the skin as he spoke.

As much as he would have loved to see you please yourself as your thought of him, he needed you, he’s been needing you for the past few weeks, and you have been needing him.

Axl’s hand went up your bare thigh, getting closer and closer to your heat until he was spreading your folds and interesting his two fingers in you. “So wet… just for me. Fuck” he cursed before his mouth attached to yours and you began to kiss like it was your last one. You whined his name against him as he finger fucked your pussy. Needing to spread you out as you haven’t been filled in weeks. “Oh- Fuck-…” you moaned against his luscious lips, feeling your climax as you were nearly there before Axl came in. “Axl… fuck- I’m gonna…” as you were about to cum, Axl took out his fingers, removing any friction you needed to finish. “You can cum all over my dick as many times as you want honey, no use for fingers.” He told you as he crawled over you and kissed your cheek while you breathed hard at him denying your orgasm.

Axl took off his clothes and additionally taking off your pj shirt. “I missed this.” He said as his eyes wondered every nook and cranny of your body, like it’s his first time ever seeing you. “Axl just fuck me.” You whined, your body burned and your stomach felt empty, your body aching and pleading to cum. “Say no more baby.” He said cocking his head. Taking your lags and pushing them back slightly, positioning himself to your soaking wet entrance. He bent dien to kiss you before he pushed past your folds with a snap of your hips together and a slap echoing from it. You jolted as a shock sent through your body as he directly hit your good spot. You moaned and screamed loudly as he began to pound his dick into you. Your legs pushed further back even more, wanting to get a perfect angle. “Bet no fucking fingers made you scream this loud.” He grunted into your ear. “My little fucking slut.” You moaned again at his comment. “Hm? Thinking if me when you cum? Mmm so fucking dirty.” He thrusted more roughly with each pound to your pussy as he spoke his words. You gripped with one hand around the back if his beck and the other clutching the sheets. Shaking as you came all over his dick. And along with it, your tight clench milked Axl’s orgasm out harder. “Fuck baby!-“ he yelled as he came all inside you, walls coated in white and leaking out onto the sheets.

“Such a needy little slut.”

A/n: its 3am and my eyes keep closing i cant focus but here’s your content goodnight

Sorry if it’s kaka. 🙁🫶

SOOEDIDNG BACK TI MY BABY AND I DINT MEAN MAYBEER

[bagopucks]

A. Matthews - Mean Words Hurt People

✄————————————

Auston Matthews x Fem!reader

Requested✨

Word Count: 2.1k

Warning(s): none! Just light angst.

—————————————

“Hudson just take the pills.”

“No!”

“Hudson please! They’ll help.”

“No! Go away! I can’t do it, I hate you!”

It had been an awfully stressful week. Auston and I were both feeling the irritability. With the second round knock out, I was patient. I assumed he might need time alone or with his team, and it was time I was willing to grant. What I hadn’t expected was for him to dive headfirst into the fire. I worried that we never got time to discuss it or that he never got time to cope with it, but at the same time I wondered if Auston coping was spending time planning our wedding and being a father to Auston. I always wanted to ask, but I never wanted to overstep my boundaries.

Until it came to hell week. Hudson’s allergies had been horrible. I worked overtime almost every night, and Auston was left with most of the work. It was bumpy, sure, but even if it had been myself and Hudson, I knew it still would have been bumpy. Hudson was tired and cranky, and stuffy and itchy and miserable. Auston was miserable navigating everything, trying to keep the kid happy, trying to make him take his pills, trying to find ways to entertain him. I felt horrible coming home each night, some worse than others. Some more peaceful than expected.

Some days Auston would be out cold on the couch, his clothes a mess, his hair pulled up, exhaustion laced in his furrowed brow. Other days I could hear the screaming and fussing from Hudson well before I even got up the front porch steps.

Hudson’s allergies and attitude couldn’t have come at a worse time. Halloween was around the corner and I had so many plans as to how I wanted to share it with Auston and Hudson. The last thing I wanted was for my miserable and moody kid to put those on the back burner. Especially because it was a chance to go out and have some family fun. Even if we hadn’t been the most stable of families recently.

I reminded Auston to be patient, but it was never really him that seemed ready to give up. Sure he got overworked, sure he was as miserable as Hudson, and as lost, but not once had he turned to me and told me he couldn’t do it. Until the night I came home to quite the tense scene. Auston sitting on the couch with his head in his hands. Toys were everywhere, Hudson was nowhere. He looked a mess. He looked exhausted. And when he looked up at me and told me he needed a break, I couldn’t get mad. I understood. When Hudson had spells like these, I often found backup was the best way to handle it.

“Was it worse today?” I asked softly as I closed the door, assuming Hudson was asleep.

“I stopped asking myself that a while ago.”

“I’m really sorry, hun.” I sat down next to him on the couch, gentle as I rested my hand on his back.

“I don’t know what his problem is.” The tension in his voice was something foreign to me. Auston was usually so collected and relaxed.

“It’s just his allergies. He just doesn’t understand why he’s feeling so miserable, and why it won’t go away. Just give him time.”

“I really need a break.” A piece of me wanted to tell him parenthood is a full time job. But I couldn’t, because while I knew it was a full time job, I liked my vacation days. And the perfect babysitter came in the form of my mother.

“Maybe Hudson needs a few days with grandma.”

“You think?” I pulled back at the tension in his tone. “I’m sorry.” Auston was quick to apologize, running his hands through his hair and sitting back. When I finally got a good look at his face, I raised a brow. There was more than just exhaustion in his features.

“Did Hudson say something to you?”

“What?” I watched Auston’s deep brown eyes meet my own. “No.”

“Aus. Did something happen?” I quickly placed my hand on his thigh.

“No. Okay? It’s fine. I just- I’d like to go home… alone- to sleep in my bed. With my dog.”

“Okay… okay if that’s what you need. Auston, just- I’m here for you. Okay?”

Auston stood up, and I watched him walk toward the door. For reasons I didn’t understand, he was more than overworked. He didn’t seem interested in sharing, but I assumed a full night of rest would help. “Drive safe, okay?” I watched him nod as he put his shoes on, and I locked the door behind him after he left. I hoped to delve deeper into the issue when Hudson awoke in the morning.

“Hey sweetie.” I spoke from the stovetop, cooking a few eggs for Hudson to eat for breakfast. I watched the boy peek around the kitchen and dining area before he padded off into the living room. When he returned, he came to my side and hugged my leg. “Sleep well?”

“Okay.” His distant and somber tone made me sigh. Both of my boys were anything but happy. It hurt knowing I could do nothing to help either.

“We have to talk, okay?” I watched his big eyes shoot up to my own. I wondered if he already knew what was on my mind. “Go sit. I’ll bring your plate over.” And I did just that. Once I finished cooking the eggs, I put them on a small plate and grabbed a fork, carrying the items over to set them down on the table. I pulled my chair out across from Hudson. The lack of Auston at our table was oddly unsettling. We’d both grown used to his presence in the mornings.

“Auston‘s really stressed.” The mention of the man lost my son’s interest. His eyes didn’t lift from his plate. “You’re not making things easy, hun. And I understand your allergies are killing you, but that doesn’t give you any right to be difficult or mean.”

Hudson dropped his fork on his plate, looking down at his lap.

“Have you been mean?” I leaned forward slightly, listening in the silence. Listening until I heard a quiet sniff. “Hudson?”

“I didn’t mean it.” His broken tone made me raise a brow.

“Honey, what didn’t you mean?”

“Did I make him leave? I didn’t want him to leave. Is it my fault?” His questions made me shoot up from my chair to cross the table, kneeling on the floor by Hudson.

“Honey.” I spoke in a stern yet soothing tone, reaching upwards to cup his tear stained cheeks. “Hudson you could never scare Auston off. He loves you.” I cooed.

“I’m so sorry, momma… I didn’t mean it!” Somewhere in the midst of the chaos, mistakes had been made, and i finally understood the issue. An issue I never should have left Auston alone with. “I don’t really hate him… I didn’t mean it.”

“Hudson, why would you say that?”

“I didn’t mean it, momma.” His quiet cries turned into sobs.

“Shhh.. okay honey.” I rubbed my son’s head, my heart hurting for both Auston and Hudson. They both needed comfort I wish I could have provided sooner.

“I don’t hate him.” Hudson whispered in a broken tone.

“I bet Auston would like to know that.”

“Not if he’s mad at me.” I shook my head.

“He still loves you, honey.” I wiped his tears one last time. “You just need to apologize.”

From day one, Auston’s mind had been plagued with worries. What if he wasn’t good enough? Or what if he couldn’t be a good father? What if he wasn’t cut out for all the responsibilities, or he couldn’t be a good role model? He never actually prepared himself for the day the kid he’d worked so hard to earn the favor of, would say he hated him. Auston had been floored when Hudson screamed it across the house. It was worse than any pain he’d ever felt before. It was the last thing he’d wanted. And he didn’t know how to tell me. I couldn’t blame him. Because it was a situation I didn’t actually understand. When I turned up with Hudson on his doorstep, a piece of me didn’t expect him to be home, but sure enough, Auston had opened the door just minutes after knocking. Felix stood at his feet, clearly oblivious to the situation, panting excitedly at the sight of Hudson. His best friend.

“Hey Aus.” I flashed the man a tender smile. Auston breathed a sigh that made his shoulders droop.

“Hey.. is everything okay?” Auston opened the door wider, an invite inside. I hesitantly stepped into the home, resting a hand on Auston’s hip and pressing a quick kiss to his chest.

“I came to check on you.. Hudson did too.”

“I was uh.. Felix needs to go on a walk.”

“Let me handle it.” I slid past Auston to grab the dog’s leash, calling Felix and kneeling to get him hooked up. “I’ll be back soon.”

I had faith in my boys making up. Despite the fact that Auston wasn’t Hudson’s father yet, I still knew that they had the ability to talk about their emotions and communicate well. They had never fought before… but I had faith they could apologize and move on.

“Mom,” Hudson called for me softly.

“I’ll be back soon, honey. I promise you’ll be okay.” I pressed a kiss to my son’s head before patting his back, and gently pushing him inside. “Fifteen minutes max. That’s how long I’ll be gone.” I reassured both boys before stepping out the door. Auston hesitated before shutting it behind me.

Was I worried? Sure. But again, I knew they’d be fine.

Auston shuffled his feet nervously for a moment before glancing back down the hallway. “You thirsty, bud?” He asked Hudson, the two making eye contact for the first time since their fight.

“A little.” Neither knew how to begin the conversation, so instead, Hudson and Auston walked down the hall and fetched two glasses of water, before settling in the living room on the couch.

“Your mom wants us to talk.. doesn’t she?” Auston took initiative, holding the cold glass of water between his hands.

“Yeah.” Hudson nodded, eyes examining his own water like a science experiment.

“I’m sorry your allergies have been so bad.” Auston slid a bit closer. “I know that stuff sucks. And I wish I could have been a better help.”

“Mom said we’re gonna see a doctor next week.” He paused. “She said they’re gonna give me something that should work better than the pills.”

“Hudson I was only trying to help.” Auston could barely handle dancing around the subject, so he decided to face it head on.

“I know.” Hudson’s little voice quivered.

“There’s nicer ways to treat the people trying to help you. And I understand if you had frustrations. It’s okay to have those, but there’s better way to communicate frustration than insults. Mean words hurt people.”

“I’m sorry,” Hudson whispered, peeking up at Auston, guilt in his sad features. “I don’t hate you.” The words took a huge weight off the shoulders of both boys. Auston let out a shaky sigh, and Hudson felt far less guilty than before. “I’m really sorry.”

“It’s okay.. Hudson it’s okay.” Auston set his glass of water down, reaching for Hudson, who slowly got up and climbed into his lap. Auston rubbed Hudson’s back while the boy sat with him, a mutual understanding between them that there was still love shared. Their relationship remained strong despite what had happened.

“You’re not mad?” Hudson pulled his head from Auston’s shoulder to look at the man.

“Nobody’s perfect, Hudsy. You’ll learn that as you grow up.. and you’ll make other mistakes. Just like I will. And that’s okay. It’s important that people have patience with one another… I’m not mad. I love you so much. Just do me a favor and try to communicate a little better in the future when you’re upset, okay?”

“You’ll help me.. right?”

“Absolutely.”

✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾

[enkas-illusion]

Two Can Play a Game

Fandom / Pairing: Jujutsu Kaisen / Geto Suguru x f!reader

Rating: NSFW/Explicit - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Content Warning: suggestive, Gojo being a menace, roommate shenanigans, wingman!Gojo, violent games, friendly banter, geto’s huge fingers…

Chapter Summary: You are stuck with your awful roommates on their Saturday games night. You were ready to be bored to death this weekend but what you were not expecting was being stranded on Geto’s lap by the end of the night.

Author's Notes: gamer!Suguru rotting my mind. Let me know if I should make a part 2! If you enjoy it, feel free to like, reblog or comment; I’d love to know your thoughts. Thank you for reading! 

-Nanami's Munchkin

Part 2

Being roommates with Satoru and Suguru was nothing short of an adventure. It always felt like you were taking care of two cats who actually did pay rent but were a pain in the ass to handle. 

The tamed one was Suguru, the black cat with black cat energy. Satoru, on the other hand, was worse than the orange cats, a menace, making your life miserable. However, you wouldn't have it any other way – a cat person always loves the little devils immensely, despite the hell they raise.

Saturday nights were game nights for the boys. Usually, Shoko, the fourth person in the house, your white dove of peace between the guys and you was out for the weekend. The dove in question, however, had betrayed you to flock in someone else’s nest so you were left alone with the men-children screaming over a stupid game.

It's true that you don't know what you've got till you don't have it anymore. You think back on all the times you open a bottle of wine, enjoy a smoke on the balcony, and share the gossip of the week with Shoko. 

You weighed your options – scrolling through reels while silently drinking your wine while pretending you don't exist would be a lot easier than spending the night witnessing your two roommates behave like toddlers. 

So you did just that, flopped down on the armchair scrolling through feed, sipping your wine quietly. You'd downed more than half the bottle before boredom hit, causing you to look up at the TV to see what Suguru and Satoru were up to. 

The amount of fun they were having playing a violent and gory game made you cringe. For them, this was no less wholesome than a fluffy princess ride at DisneyLand.

“Seriously guys, is this fun to you? You just go around killing people!” Ideally, it'd be better to let it slide without the unnecessary commentary, but this is far from ideal so you let the boredom and booze speak for you.

“Oh and Genshin is not violent at all!! Sweet little Hillichurls getting hit by a meteorite just for existing is fun, right?” Satoru mocks back in an instant without taking his eyes off the game.

“I don’t think you know Hillichurls to be calling them sweet and little,” you argue, offended that your favorite game was dragged into the conversation.

This time Suguru replies,”Maybe you are just salty because you don’t know how to use a console.”

Taking full offense, you challenge, “I would've learnt it ages ago if I wanted to…”

“What's stopping you? That way you can play your precious Genshin on the console as well. It will be fun. Then we can all have a game night.” Suguru's tone is condescending but you understand him well enough to know when to take the bait.

“Hard pass! No way I wanna play with you both. It would only make my hair whiter than this dumbass.” You say pointing at Satoru.

“Huh! The feeling's mutual darling. I’m not psyched about you ruining our sacred games night. Also, you might finally start to look a bit attractive with hair like mine.” 

Satoru’s comment ticks you off, you know better than to let it get to you but you're too far gone to think straight now. So you put down your wine glass as you stomp to where they're sitting, ripping out the console from Suguru, settling in the tiny space between the two manspreading, “You’re on, bitch!” 

“You really think you can beat me?” Satoru looks amused, Suguru has a similar look on his face.

“Just shut the fuck up and start.”

As the game starts, you realize how dumb this decision was – you'd walked right into the trap. Not only do you not know how to use the console, you don’t even know what this game was and what you needed to do.

“I’m going to find youuu~~” Satoru says in a creepy singsong voice that makes you shriek as you try to run in the game. 

Suguru just lies back on the sofa laughing at both your antics. No matter how much you tried to believe the cat analogy exclusively applied to the two, everyone knew you were one too.

“Found you!” Satoru squeals as you nevertheless try to hide and fail miserably. And before you know it, your screen turns red with the words DEFEATED on it.

You pout at Satoru and he says, “Aww, that was no fun. Let me heal you so we can go again.”

“Really! You can do that?” You ask, looking up to him with glittering eyes.

“Satoru!” you hear Suguru suddenly scold, causing you to stare at him with confusion. And before you can ask what was wrong, you hear a few more gunshots from the game. Satoru, being the absolute worst, continues to shoot your already dead character.

‘SatoruAlmighty_89 WINS’ the screen displays.

“Suguru! Satoru is so mean!��� You look at Suguru with those puppy eyes that you know makes him melt. Your final trump card, given that he may or may not have called that look adorable in the past.

“‘Toru, your name doesn’t really look that well on top of the leaderboard… kind of used to seeing my own.” Suguru pokes at his best friend just to rile him up.

“Bitch please… Do you wanna go again?” Satoru takes the bait.

“Nope. Not me… her.” he says, tilting his head in your direction.

“Hmm?” you simply give him a confused look. But before you can decipher the meaning behind his words, he wraps his arm around your waist to pull you to him in one swift motion till you’re sitting on his lap. Your face turns hot as you quickly slide down to adjust between his parted thighs instead – trying to keep the atmosphere pg-13, what with Satoru in the room.

Suguru, on the other hand, couldn’t care less – he leans forward till his chest is flush against your back, resting his chin on your shoulder. His huge arms wrap around you, enveloping you into him as they hold the console in front of you. 

“Okay, let’s defeat him, shall we?” he whispers sweetly in your ear, “Let me take it from here.” you feel his hot breath behind your ear, making you blush harder than a rose.

Satoru gives you both a disgusted look, “Ugh… get a room!”

“Somebody’s bitchless.” you tease Satoru. It wasn’t hard to sense the sexual tension that had always lingered in the back ever since you had started living together with Suguru – sure, you had two other roommates but you never wanted to tear the others’ clothes off in a fervor. Shoko had once teased you that ‘if one could try cutting the sexual tension with a knife, the knife would grow blunt due to how thick it was.’ 

As you’re laughing at the now-pouting Satoru, you twist your neck to look back at Suguru, giving him a big grin that makes his heart do summersaults. 

Suguru’s fingers encompass your dainty ones as he guides them to the console. As the guys start playing the match, you move your fingers to the side of the device, letting Suguru take control as his fingers rapidly slam and rotate the buttons. You can’t look away from his hands even when the game begins. His fingers look so sexy moving around the console that you can’t help but imagine how they would feel on you.

“Pay attention to the game, sweetheart.” he whispers into your ear. His words catch you off-guard as your eyes shoot up to the screen, embarrassed that he’d caught you staring. His comment puts you into a deeper daze but you shake it off to focus on the screen, still you find your mind wandering, barely caring about the game. 

He’s so into the game that his chest often presses against you as he tries leaning forward when a battle gets too intense. At one such moment, before you can talk yourself out of it, you shift your hips back ever so slightly to press against his crotch. You swear you feel his otherwise restless movements still for a split-second but he doesn’t let his composure falter since he had a match to win.

Suguru actually manages to win as his name makes it back on top of the leaderboard. You cheer out loud and turn around to hug Suguru, but not before tilting your head to blow raspberries at Satoru.

“What are you… like five?” Satoru complains. You simply bring your hand up to do a blah-blah gesture, rolling your eyes at him dramatically.

“It’s not fair! It was two vs one.” Satoru pouts.

“Go cry about it somewhere else. A win is a win!” you tease him further. 

Satoru gets up from his place and walks off saying, “I anyway don’t play with cheaters.” 

If you weren’t reeling in the high from your win and laughing at Satoru’s antics, you would have noticed the wink he gave to Suguru before retiring to his room.

You’re still laughing as you watch him go back to his room and shut the door behind him with a ‘night, cheaters!’

When it gets quiet, you suddenly become super aware of the way you’re still perched comfortably in Suguru's lap. 

“You need to actually teach me how to use this thing.” You say as you try to break the impenetrable tension, fumbling with the console before tossing it on the sofa, beginning to get up.

Before you can move any further, you’re pulled right back into Sugurus lap as you let out a tiny squeal at the unexpected move. Your breath hitches in your throat when you feel his clearly evident boner, hard against you.

“Did you really think I'd let you off so easily after you pulled that little stunt during the game?”

[leonsdoll]

NEW STUDENT PT.2

--------------------------------------------------

part one

plot: the big school field trip is finally here and you hazel share a room

warnings: none, not proofread but I don't think I made any errors:)

word count: 0.9k

notes:thank you fruity ppl for the attention on pt.1🌚this is again boring so:3 anyways this if the last chapter y'all but I'm write smth else soon!! anyways I hope you enjoy this lame follow up🔥🙏🏼

--------------------------------------------------

for every senior class there was a special school trip, this year your school saved up money for it instead of taking you guys to a cheap motel an hour away like they've done the other years.

this year you guys are going to Venice. I mean sure you're staying at a hotel with no heater or locking doors but it's better than what they did last year. the flight was an excruciating 12 hours of students screaming, singing and trying to keep each other entertained, but when you got there it was sorta worth it...

when you got to your hotel everyone rushed out of the bus making your bag fall into a puddle of water, already off to a great start. inside it was very fancy looking...but also old looking, the walls were cracking and it smelled like a creepy old neighbor. the guides explained how the rooms would work, they were dividing it in boys and girls with each room having a king sized bed.

"okay so everyone is going in twos so partner up!" the teacher explained, everyone quickly chose their partner, you looked around and saw hazel alone, the only time you guys talked was her first day of school, sure you guys did exchange numbers but no one actually texted first. walking up to hazel you were building up the confidence to ask her to partner up, you tapped her shoulder and she turned around looking you in the eyes before dropping her gaze down to the ground.

"hey do you wanna stay in a room with me?" she looked up at you and nodded with a smile, you both went to your room and settled down, there was a knock at the door before the teacher peeked in telling you guys everyone was going out to dinner in an hour, after accepting the invite the door closed leaving you guys alone once again, "so are you going hazel?" you questioned hoping you had an excuse to sit by her and talk more.

"i don't know, I mean are you going?" she asked her voice cracking mid sentence, "yeah I am, if you don't wanna go that's fine I'll just tell the teacher tha-" you were quickly cut off by hazel, "if you're going I'm going so uhm..." you swear you could see her blush just a bit. after a good twenty minutes of getting ready, it was time to go, you and hazel walked out and met everyone else down stairs.

the restaurant was again fancy but old, is everything here fancy and old? you all sat down at your assigned seats, you obviously next to hazel, the waiter came by and you ordered something simple nothing too expensive. as people started talking and things got a little louder you thought it would be a great time to actually have a full conversation with hazel.

you turned to hazel and spoke,"how are you hazel? you know you never texted me" she turned to face you and got eyes slightly widened at what she would call your boldness, "oh sorry I forgot I guess...but uhm I'm good, how are you" hazel let out a breath she didn't even know she held in, you were shoked at her full not very awkward phrase.

"well I'm pretty good, life is pretty boring but I think this trip is gonna be fun" you smiled at an attempt to add some positivity to the conversation, so it's not just awkward lesbians trying to talk. "oh yeah they have some cool art museums here you know? I think we're going to some while we're here" you were not surprised by hazel's interest in art, you chuckled at hazel's enthusiasm about museums.

"well maybe you could tell me more about your interest mh? you thought letting her rant about things she likes would keep the conversation going and well it did! for the rest of the dinner she talked about her skills and other cool things about herself, you learned she can build a very "small" bomb and knew taekwondo, who knew she was so interesting?. when you got back to the hotel somehow it was already 10pm, you both got ready for bed and got into your guys shared bed.

you kept thinking about wanting to do something, like maybe kiss her? or maybe just share your feelings with her? you didn't know what exactly but you just had to do something, "hey haze?" you thought maybe using a silly nickname would maybe show her you've loosened up, she looked away from her phone and looked straight into your eyes, suddenly you wanted to back out but you couldn't, I mean what were you gonna tell her If not that you like her.

you put your knees to your chest and wrapped your arms around them, "I think I like you" you quietly blurred out, her eyes widened before relaxing them, "oh well...I think I like you too" she couldn't contain the smile on her face and she felt her face get hot, you smiled back at her and moved closer to her, "can I kiss you" you said so quietly it was almost not even a whisper.

she moved closer to you and gently put her hands on the sides of your face, "yes, please" she whispered back, you leaned in and finally connected her lips to yours, her lips were soft and warm against yours, after a few more seconds of a sweet kiss she pulled away, you couldn't help but giggle a bit and smile, "does this mean we're like girlfriends now?" she asked you, you thought about it for a moment before responding, "yeah it does".

[sadhours]

Wicked Sensation

part six // billy hargrove x f!reader

part one | part two | part three | part four | part five | part six | part seven | part eight | part nine | part ten | part eleven | part twelve | part thirteen | part fourteen | part fifteen | part sixteen | part seventeen

word count: 5.1k

warnings: 18+ minors dni, smut, oral (f recieving), slapping, dirty talk, billy being agressive, steve being too good of a guy, angst, underage drinking

“You can take me,” you tell Steve before he has a chance to say hello.

You’d lied awake for hours after Billy had left last night, thinking about how while at first the idea of going to the dance with Steve as a game to Billy you’ve come to realize that’s exactly what it was, a game to Billy. It hurt that he would use the opportunity to have yet another leg up on Steve in this dumb feud they had going on. And it wasn’t even like Steve would know, it was like Billy wanted to hurt him and play mind games Steve wouldn’t even realize Billy was behind. You thought about calling off the whole plan but decided you deserved to actually have some fun and Steve was very much that. Conversations between you two were as easy as they come. Steve made you laugh and you liked the contrast between his easy going attitude and Billy’s intensity.

“Really?” Steve chirped, “Awesome, so uh, cool, cool, yeah.”

“I’ll pick a red dress,” you interpret his stuttering, hand on his chest because you see Billy out of the corner of your eye and maybe you can play the game to your advantage. “Pick me up at 5 for dinner.”

You wave goodbye, eyes darting back to see Billy with amused wide eyes which he has to mask quickly when Tommy walks up to him. You wonder who Billy’s going to go to the dance with, the idea making your stomach twist in jealousy. Which only worsens when you get to class and hear other girls talking about it. Since he hadn’t been making moved on anyone and was seemingly single they figured it was open season.

“You think he’s going to ask someone? Would it be totally weird to ask him?” you overhear Peggy’s voice and roll your eyes. Of course she’s still pining over him. Then you fall down a rabbit hole of thinking about Billy having sex with these girls. Did he touch them the way he touched you? The sensations were extremely hard to forget, not that you really tried to. Was what you two shared special and saved just for you or did he make all these other women crumble under his touch as well? You’re thinking about it for the rest of the school day, flashes of Billy sweating over top the list of women you know he’s been with.

“Why are you so quiet?” he asks on the ride home. Max has headphones on so you’re tempted to admit the reason you haven’t said a single word to him but it just doesn’t feel like the right moment. The two of you never talked about feelings when the sun was still out.

“Just a weird day,” you explain which isn’t exactly a lie.

“Is it about winter formal? Listen, I’d like to take you but…” He starts.

You interrupt, “It’ll ruin what we have.” You’ve heard him say it a couple times. You’ve told him you understand every time. “That’s not what I’m upset about.”

Billy squeezes your thigh and you picture him doing it to every bitch that’s been in his car so you jerk away. “I’m fine,” you insist and look out the window.

He backs off with a sigh, turning the dial up on his stereo to drown out the bad mood. You don’t say bye when he parks in front of his house, storming in your house and slamming the door behind you. Since the house is empty you scream out, closing your eyes tight when you do so and not giving a shit if Billy could hear it. However, you don’t expect to see your dad and little brother running into the living room.

“Oh,” your cheeks flush, “I thought I was alone.”

Your dad looks even more worried than before, “You okay?”

“I got asked to Winter Formal,” you tell him, tossing your backpack on the ground. “What are you two doing home?”

“Your brother is ‘sick’,” your dad says with air quotes, “Had to leave work early to get him. The neighbor boy ask you?”

“No, Billy didn’t ask me. One of the most popular boys asked me,” you vent to him.

He takes the opportunity, you usually never complained about your love life to him. He grabs a beer from the fridge and offers it to you, “Why didn’t Billy ask you if he’s been sneaking into your room for months?”

“His dad wouldn’t like me,” you admit, opening the beer and guzzling it down. You half expect your dad to scold you but he doesn’t.

“Ya know, I had to work on his dads car the other week… he’s a real dick,” your dad levels with you.

“So I’ve heard.”

“Did you say yes?” he asks, grabbing a beer for himself.

“I… Billy told me to and I do want to go so yes, I said yes. But I don’t want to hurt this guy because I like him but… I like him like I like Eddie,” you spew out.

Your dad sighs, joining you at the kitchen table. “It’s not good to lead people on. I think you oughta tell this fella you just want to be friends.”

You think about your light flirting with Steve earlier that day. It felt good to flirt with him but it’s not like you wanted to break things off with Billy to pursue Steve. “I know,” you sigh, “I just wish things could be different with Billy.”

“Compromise is important. I learned that with your mom. I wished things were different with her but when I look back, I wished I was more patient and compassionate,” your dad reveals and it breaks your heart a bit. You missed your mom but you thought your dad was a good guy and if she couldn’t even bother to check in every once in a while then maybe she was the bad actor.

You have no idea how to talk to your dad about your mom leaving so you just nod, “You’re right…” you sigh and stand up, “I’m gonna go out front for a bit.”

Your dad grins with a nod, “Do what feels right, pumpkin.”

When you’re outside you see Billy taking out the trash, watching as you light your smoke and you raise your beer to him. He shakes his head but he’s smiling before he blows you a kiss. You feel your heart skip a bit, swooning for him easily before he’s back inside. You couldn’t tell your dad about the intimate reasons you were upset. You didn’t bother Eddie with sexual details or problems so that left the problem to talk to it about. Which you weren’t looking forward to but for your sanity you had to ask him.

-

You’re waiting for Billy to call since you’d kind of given him the cold shoulder you expected him to give you space. You glance to your alarm clock and see it’s nearing midnight. If he was gonna call it would have been by now. You sigh and get up, standing in your mirror while you undress. You watch yourself and wonder if anything was different between you and Peggy, underneath it all. Peggy probably wears nighties, you think and without much of a second thought, you’re digging in your closet for the one you own, a Christmas present from your grandma. You hold the hanger in front of you, a simple white slip with a delicate lace along the décolletage. She’d probably wear something like this, you think as you pull it over your naked body.

Knock, knock. Your head snaps towards the window to see Billy looking back at you with a surprised grin on his face. You walk over, unlocking the window before sliding it open.

“I’ve never seen that before,” he says, his mouth hanging open when he’s finished.

“You’re gonna drool,” you shut is jaw with a gentle hand before helping him inside.

Billy shuts the blinds behind him and wraps his arms around your waist, “You expecting me?”

“Oh, god, you would like this,” you roll your eyes and pull away.

Billy grabs your wrist and tilts his head, quizzically, “Am I not supposed to?”

“No!” You exclaim, “It’s not me! You’re not supposed to like it!”

His smile falters and his eyebrows knit together in confusion, “What’s going on?”

Crossing your arms over your chest, you suddenly feel exposed and ashamed. Billy’s fingers dance under your elbow and arms. He steps closer, eyes expectant while he waits for you to answer. You’re afraid you’ll start to cry if you open your mouth, looking up at him fearful.

“Baby…” he mutters, “Talk to me.”

His voice is quiet but his eyes on you make the room seem smaller and smaller with each second.

“Am… am I different?”

“Incredibly,” he whispers, “Weirdest person I’ve met.” The smirk on his face isn’t soothing in any way.

“No… like,” you let out a shaky breath. “Do you touch other girls like you touch me?”

Confusion and anger cover his expressions, “What? I haven’t touch-“

“When you did, before me, after we did, I mean have you fucked them like me or is it different?” you interrupt him, finally relieved to get this off your chest.

Billy pauses, unsure of how to answer that question or what exactly it implied. He couldn’t help if he knew how to make women come undone for him. “What are you talking about?”

“Peggy wants to ask you to the dance. You fucked her forever ago and she’s still thinking about you. I can’t fathom the thought of you… I don’t know, Billy.”

“Hey, hey,” he sits you down the bed and gets on his knees between your legs, “it is so different for you and I.”

“You made them feel how you make me feel,” you mutter out, the tears spilling out finally.

“But I’m here with you, I stopped sleeping with other girls, babe. For you. You make me feel better than they ever could,” he says and you can’t believe the words coming from him or how easy it is for him to comfort you. “I don’t care if they still want me, you shouldn’t either. They can’t have me, but you do.”

“But Billy… they still talk about you,” you blubber, palms smearing your tears away as they coat your flushed cheeks.

He sighs then, sitting on his heels. He’s quiet for a second and then he’s taking his dagger earring off and putting it on your ear. You hadn’t even realized he took it back from you. “Have this. Wear it everyday. I know it’s not me screaming from the rooftops that we’re together but it’s what I can do for now,” he’s saying, eyes trained on hours.

The gesture is sweet and calms you down slightly. He laces his fingers in yours and squeezes, “You’re different in the best way. I promise you, it’s different. I actually like you.”

You smile, “You mean it?”

“Lemme show you,” Billy’s bunching your night gown up and his mouth is between your legs. You watch him, licking between your folds and the sensation sends shivers up your spine. Say what they will, they didn’t have Billy like you did.

His fingers snake up your nightgown and graze against your nipple, tongue focused at your opening, sliding into you. Falling onto your back, your fingers grip his curls and pull him closer.

“Billy… feels so good…” you praise, lifting your feet to the edge of the mattress.

“Tastes even better,” he pulls away to mumble and the compliment floors you, pushing his face back.

His tongue broadly licks up your slit, shaking his head to aid when the tip of his tongue is pressed at your clit. Every concern slipping away from his deliberate actions. He’s entering you with two fingers and you feel the pressure building efficiently, tearing you apart expertly.

“I’m.. I’m gonna cum,” you stutter out, thighs clenching around his face and your back arched.

Billy quickens his pace, nodding his head up and down while his fingers twist and curl inside you. When you start to pant, he wraps his lips around your clit and sucks which pushes you over the edge. “Billy!” you gasp, pulling at his hair and thrashing against his face.

“You’re mine,” he says when your faces meet again, tearing the nightie off of you.

“Mine..” you mumble out lazily, your body still on cloud nine.

“Yours,” Billy’s mouthing against your ear, peeling his shirt from his torso. You help him with his shoes and pants even though you’re suddenly exhausted. You want him to have you.

“Say it again,” you whimper, feeling his tip press against your entrance.

“I’m yours,” he says through gritted teeth as he inches inside of you.

“All mine,” you say, drunk on the passion as you wrap your legs around his waist and tug him closer.

Billy bites your bottom lip then, pushing the rest of the way and you feel him fill you up. You moan into his mouth when his fingers curl around your hip, everything falling apart around the two of you. He falters a bit, chuckling softly when he stills.

“Jesus,” he exhales, “I’m already close… give me a minute.”

It’s the highest compliment he could’ve paid you and you giggle back, “Thank you.”

“Oh, shut up,” he seethes but he’s smiling.

“You last long with them?” you tease, fingers grazing his chest and then curling around the necklace he’s always wearing. You think it’s the Virgin Mary, definitely something catholic.

Billy gently flicks your nose, looking pointedly at you, “This doesn’t typically happen, no.”

You shudder underneath him, tightening your legs around his waist. The stimulation takes his breath from his lungs and he’s pushing you down by your chest, “Give me a minute for fucks sake.”

“What if I want you to cum?” you challenge, rolling your hips against him.

“Then I will,” he keeps his palm pressed hard on your sternum. He starts moving again, pounding hard into you. Hard enough that it startles you and actually kind of hurt. You gasp and he grabs your chin roughly, tilting your head back but his eyes fierce. “But you’re gonna look at me while I do it. You look away and I won’t be happy.”

You’re curious so you tear your eyes away from his face, down to his chest. Billy’s quick to slap you, grabbing onto your jaw again and scolding you, “I fucking mean it.”

“Yes, Sir…” you pant, the carnal assault bringing a flood of arousal from you, only making the sound of his pumping into your wetness louder.

“Good girl,” he spits and it doesn’t sound like praise but like he expects this from you.

“You like when I’m a good girl?” you say through pouted lips.

Billy grits his teeth, thumb digging into your cheek. “Good girls don’t ask dumb questions,” he fumes, his hips relentless against you.

“I’m only bad for you,” you counter, your confidence in speaking is a show of how close you are to a second orgasm.

“I want you to be good right now,” he pants, holding his gaze into your eyes. You wonder if your banter is helping postpone or hastening his own climax.

“Make me be good,” you challenge and Billy’s pulling out to flip you over onto your stomach, grabbing your wrists in his hands and pinning them behind against the small of your back as he penetrates you hard.

“You little slut,” he slanders, driving his hips back and forth at a harsh pace. He’s successful shutting you up, the ferocious onslaught pushing the air from your lungs. He spanks your ass as he unloads inside of you, your own orgasm erupting in sync with him.

“Billy!” you cry out, shaking beneath him.

You both come down, breathing like you’d been holding it in for hours.

“I assure you, it was never anything like that,” he pants, eyes tightly closed.

-

Dress shopping was not fun. You’d dragged Eddie along for moral support but he wasn’t help at all, laughing at most ensembles you’d tried on. “You look like a cake topper.”

“That’s it,” you say, staring back at a foreign reflection. “I’m not going.”

Eddie rolls his eyes, “Oh, come on.”

Like some saving grace, you see Billy walking into the store. You lift an eyebrow in surprise, asking what he’s doing there. Then Max walks in behind him, looking out of place just like you.

“I need a dress,” she mutters and you smile, happy that someone had asked her to the Snowball Dance.

“It’s slim Pickens,” you inform her.

“Why not this?” Billy holds up a sleek, red gown. There’s no frills to it at all and you wonder why you couldn’t find it.

“Huh, more my style than Max’s,” you counter and Billy guffaws.

“Gee, I wonder why,” he shoves the hanger in your hand.

You slip away to try the dress on and realize just what a saving grace Billy was. It was like he knew your body better than you did. The god damn thing fit you like a glove, even if it had an absurd amount of cleavage spilling out. You’d never felt sexier, staring back at the mirror. You decide to make Billy wait, changing out of the dress but holding it to your chest.

“Please tell me it’s a winner?” Eddie begs, a hopeful glint in his eye. You’d promised to visit the comic store after this.

“Billy’s omnipresent or something,” you mutter, not wanting to admit he’d picked the perfect dress for you within seconds of arriving.

Billy smirks, “Ya gonna make me wait to see it, huh?”

“Max! Let me help you find something,” you usher the redhead off, not wanting to give Billy the satisfaction.

When you glance back to see him and Eddie getting along, your heart skips a beat thinking of what could be if only he didn’t have to keep you hidden. You shove it down, watching at what Max pulls from the racks. She doesn’t seem to like anything so you counter, “I went to the Snowball dance both years in junior high. You don’t really have to wear a dress.”

“My mom wants me to pick a dress out,” she counters and you nod.

“Let’s try to find something simple, then. I’m not much of a dress girl either, but our dance has a strict dress code,” you say. After a moment of thumbing through the racks, you pull one out, just a simple green dress. “How about this?”

Max looks at it intrigued, fingertips ghosting the velvet. “I guess this could work,” she decides, grabbing it from you and heading towards Billy. She hands it to him and says, “Here.”

Billy looks over to you appreciatively, “Well that was painless.” But he snakes to snatch the dress in your hand, taking it to the counter. You protest but it’s fruitless. Billy’s paying for your dress and handing the bag to you. “I’ll see you around.”

Eddie scoffs as Billy and Max walk out of the boutique, “That guy is something else.”

“I’ll say,” you sigh, grabbing Eddie’s hand and pulling him towards the comic store.

-

With knuckles against your door, Steve feels anxious. You were hard to understand, pushing and pulling away from him. He couldn’t read you at all and that was part of what kept him interested. As he’s waiting outside, he catches Billy and his little step sister walking to his Camaro.

“King Steve,” he hears behind him, having turned away. Billy’s standing there, wearing a suit, hair meticulously styled and a simple stud in his ear.

“Can I help you?” Steve challenges, his hair is always perfectly sculpted, he spent an hour on it.

“No,” Billy shrugs, but before he can continue your dad opens the door.

“Hi, Dale,” Billy beams, confusing your dad, seeing two men standing in almost matching suits, the only difference in bow ties. Steve’s red to match your dress and Billy’s is a hot pink.

“Hello, Billy,” your dad greets, turning to your date and saying, “You must be Steve.”

“Billy! Let’s go!” Max calls out and Billy stifles his anger.

“Have a goodnight, Harrington,” he spits before walking back to his Camaro.

Steve extends his hand to your dad, “Nice to meet you.”

Your dad invites Steve inside, who then excuses himself in the bathroom before you walk out into the kitchen.

“Your boyfriend intimated your date,” your dad lets you know, looking amused.

“Oh, God,” you sigh, grimacing at the thought but thankfully you don’t have time to stew on it as Steve’s exiting the bathroom.

“You look amazing,” he says, out of breath as if he doesn’t see your dad standing next to you.

“So do you,” you tell him, smiling wide. Steve does look good, he usually looks pretty prim and proper but something about him in a tuxedo has you thinking about him in ways you never have.

“I’m right here,” your dad speaks up, chuckling as he does so.

Steve’s eyes widen, “Yeah! Oh, I’m sorry! It’s… sorry, I,” he grabs the corsage he’d left on the counter and presents it to you. You extend your wrist towards him with a flutter of your eyelashes, watching as he adorns the gorgeous rose.

“It’s pretty,” you note, a satisfied smile plastered on your face.

“Just like you,” Steve points out.

Your dad extends his hand to Steve, your date taking it in a firm handshake, “Take care of her.”

Steve nods, then moves towards the door. Your dad hugs you, whispering “Now that’s how a man should treat you.” before pulling away.

“Thank you,” you look into his eyes, you think he’s right but that Billy would… if he could.

The restaurant Steve takes you to is the nicest place you’ve been. It isn’t a diner at the edge of town. There’s many other kids from school here. You don’t see Billy and his date, thankfully. He never told you who he was going with but you weren’t sure if you’d hoped it was someone he hasn’t slept with or some poor sap he’d already fooled around with. You scold yourself for thinking about him in this moment. Right now was about you and your date. You were determined to have a good time. You order a glass of wine and Steve widens his eyes, perhaps impressed by your boldness. You supply your fake ID to the waiter and it’s accepted so he in turn offers Steve a glass. He accepts and you’re pleased to impress the man across from you.

“You’re something else,” Steve smiles, leaning across the table to take his hand in yours.

“I’ve heard that before,” you quip with a cocky smirk.

The food is good and the company even better. Steve is funny and charming, it would’ve been so easy for him to get in your pants if you weren’t spoken for. He’s handsome as hell too but equipped with a boyish charm that works so well. And God, you think, it would be easy to fall into something steady with him. Due to the three glasses of wine, you wonder what Steve’s like between the sheets. You imagine a slew of praises and what kind of noises he’d make with his dick in your mouth. Never in the past three years would you imagine you’d be here with the King of Hawkins High. The alcohol mixed with the the attention has you pressing Steve against his car in the parking lot, kissing him intensely and adoring the way it takes him by surprise.

“Wines the secret ingredient I needed, eh?” He mumbles when you pull away.

“You look good in a suit,” you shrug before trailing to the other side of his BMW. “Let’s go dance the night way, pretty boy.”

“No need to pull my arm,” he quips.

The high school gym looks like a sad car with a new paint job, the streamers doing little to distract you from the fact that you’re at Hawkin’s High. You immediately catch Billy’s eyes, he’s seeing you in the dress he’d bought for the first time. He’d seen it on the rack next to your mirror but he’d longed for the moment he got to see it draping to your curves. You hold Steve’s hand in yours, noticing as heads turn towards the two of you. You thought you looked so good in the dress no one was calling you a freak. But the looks were definitely because Steve brought a freak to Winter Formal and that freak looked hot.

“Jesus Christ,” Tommy mutters to Billy who is also staring at you. He’s about to mirror Tommy’s thirst but catches himself.

“Whatever,” Billy mutters, slinging an arm over Molly’s shoulder.

Cutting Crew’s “(I Just) Died In Your Arms” starts playing and you grab Steve’s hand, pulling him to the punch bowl. When you get your drink, you feel the alcohol burn your throat. Thank God it’s been spiked. This would be a long night without it.

Billy’s watching across the gym, a little taken aback but the jealousy he feels in the pit of his stomach. But it’s your fault, right? He told you to go with Steve but he didn’t tell you to enjoy it. He seethes, watching after you both down a glass of punch before strutting to the dance floor. He hates how romantic this song is, seeing you drape arms around Steve as you sway together. He’d give anything to hear what you two were whispering back and forth. He’d really love to go up and sock Steve right in the face, but that’d be to obvious. No, he’d have to play dirty. Molly’s blabbering in his ear and he regretted the entire game, seeing how carefree and fun you seemed around his arch nemesis. He grabs Molly’s clutch, digging through it for the flask he’d stashed inside, though the whiskey inside isn’t much help.

When Sweet Dreams bubbles out of the speakers, he’s dragging Molly to the dance floor making sure he’s in your eyesight. He turns her around, hands on her hips and he grinds against her bottom with his eyes trained on you. Steve’s blissfully unaware of the competition at hand, gasping in your ear when you mimic Billy and Molly. You swing your hand up to lace through the bottom of Steve’s mullet. You think about kissing Steve but it’s too early. You’d fuck with Billy later, this is what he wanted after all.

After a few songs, you excuse yourself from Steve, explaining you need a cigarette badly. You let him think it’s from arousal but truly, you need a breath of air. It’s also an invitation for Billy that he takes, stalking out after you.

“Having fun?” he sneers as he catches you lighting your smoke.

You guffaw, hearing as the song before bleeds into Don’t Dream It’s Over by Crowded House. “I’m at a school dance watching the man I love grind against some whore,” your voice is venomous.

“I’m having the time of my life too,” Billy’s heart skips when you inadvertently admit you love him but hey, time and place. “It’s not fun watching heart eyes and grabby hands.”

“You told me to go with him, motherfucker,” you seethe, but internally feigning over the jealousy he exudes.

Billy scoffs, taking a deep drag from his own smoke.

“And Molly?” you laugh, “I should’ve guessed. Oh, Billy is just so cute! He’s just so kissable. Fucking gag me with a spoon.”

Billy greets his teeth, “I have something else I’d rather gag you with.”

You laugh harshly, the alcohol really showing itself when you comeback with, “Oh please Billy! I want nothing else than for you to get off in my throat where no one can see! Our little secret.”

“Cut the sarcasm, bitch,” Billy spits, pushing you against the wall.

“The fuck is wrong with you? You have to get drunk to spend the night with Harrington?”

“Had to get drunk to deal with you tonight. Steve’s a breeze to be around,” you quip and Billy’s got his hand on your throat as a reaction.

“You like getting a rise out of me,” he reasons, frowning around the words, “You’re not a filthy slut but you sure like acting like one to get my attention.”

You look him dead in the eye, “Let go of me or I’ll scream.”

Billy gives a laugh full of discredit, pushing you further.

“Oh my god, what are you doing? Billy, stop! You’re hurting me!” You claim and when you open wide to scream his hand is forcing your mouth shut.

“I don’t like the game you’re playing,” he says, eyes wary.

You bite his hand and he pulls away.

“Tell me you love me,” you appeal, eyes trained on his. “Tell me you love me and fucking mean it, Billy.”

He closes his eyes and blows air out of his nose, like he’s dejected. “You’re such a bitch,” he mutters, eyes fluttering open again but you’re serious.

“Tell me,” you shrill, “Tell me or I’m done. I’ll go home with Ste-“

“I love you, okay!” he drops his hand from his hands from your shoulders.

You pull him close, feeling his breath against your lips, “Again.”

“I love you,” he whispers.

“I love you too, Billy Hargrove,” you say breathlessly before pulling him into a bruising kiss.

You could feel he meant it, especially with the way he kisses you back. You leave in two days for Florida and you really couldn’t leave without the admission. You melt into him and the two of you share a beautiful moment but it’s cut short by a girl neither of you know, storming out in tears. You both retract, as if you weren’t just sharing the most important stage of your relationship.

“You should get back to Steve,” Billy says dejectedly.

“One more time,” you plead.

“I love you,” he indulges, a quick kiss.

“I love you too,” you mutter, pulling back to stumble back into the dance. Everything seems different. You don’t want to go back to Steve, you want to follow Billy to his Camaro and get a motel somewhere far.

Take my breath away you hear through the fogginess of the smoke machines, seeing Steve fiddling with his fingers at a table. This isn’t fair, you think as you collapse into the chair next to him. Steve saw Billy follow you and the flush on your face but he doesn’t tell you.

“You want me to take you home?” he asks and you nod.

“Please…”

[megamuscle885-blog]

TW: Suicide mention. Worm Spoilers.

Reprising my Neil Cicierega post from before about how "Mullet with Butterfly Wings" is a skitter/scurry/chitter song.

Crocodile Chop is a Gold Morning song. The lyrics are all very slurred and drunken. She's lurching around. Amy's hands on her as she "Wake(s) up!". "Why'd you leave the keys on the table?" Who's just leaving Amy alone with Taylor. They had to know she was going to do something drastic. Lisa should've, and that's the tragedy isn't it? "Here you go and create another fable." The myth, making Taylor into a weapon. Maybe I'm reading a little too much into it, but this is supposed to be a fun little post anyway, it's not too serious.

Except "I don't think you trust in my self-righteous suicide." is just a dead on, straight between the eyes, punch to the forehead shining example of Taylor Hebert's character in this moment.

The scream for Fathers feels a little bit like Taylor's frustrations with Danny, and maybe a little bit of QA (who is currently in the driver's seat) might be feeling a little forsaken by her father Scion herself in this moment? "Father into your hands I commend my spirit." and the whole section there, is SOAD directly lifting words from Jesus' crucifixion. This one's not a particularly deep take from me, but you can see Jesus' crucifixion as a kind of self-righteous suicide, huh? And Taylor is also putting herself on the line, as usual, and sacrificing any other kind of future she may have had for herself in favor of the greater good, and the unity of humanity. It's a consistent, doomed worldview she's held ever since "Cut Ties, I'm Sorry." entered the picture. She put the Undersiders aside. She spent more time with the Chicago Wards than them, and her time with them wasn't even worth mentioning in the text. She sets them aside too. She trains Golem because they have a shared enemy, but there's nothing else there. There can be nothing else there when she has to go die on the cross, unknowingly, but still. The Simurgh, Contessa and Dinah all conspiring to put her in the right place at the right time.

My read of SOAD's lyrics seem focused on the 'right to die', about how nobody truly deserves to die, but we all will die, but there are some people who are condemned regardless of their circumstances for the method of their death. Serj Tankian brings up his potential for dying in a drug overdose as his example of someone dying in a shameful way, and therefore 'deserving' to die. (This is just me paraphrasing the wikipedia entry I'm not uncovering new ground here lol). There's also the very literal Angel-like being hovering over the battlefield to consider.

Choosing how you go out is more than some people get. Except Taylor doesn't get to choose how she goes out in the end, does she? Taylor doesn't really have a choice here. The Simurgh chooses. Dinah chooses. Contessa chooses. That little static burst as the song fades out to "Transmission" (a little bit where a numbers radio is played interspersed with the introductory rift from David Bowie's Space Oddity) sounds like her turning her head to see Contessa sitting there with her gun in her hand.

All of this is set to Elton John's Crocodile Rock, which I haven't really listened to enough to have thoughts on it. I don't really have any deep takes on his side of the mashup, other than the fact that the piano and Serj's "Die" is pitch shifted to Elton's "laa, la-la-la-la-laa" making it very unsettling.

I've been listening to too much of Neil's music while driving to work and it's starting to mix together with all of the other brain worms, creating intricate mental AMVs, and it shows.

[chansbabygirlsstuff]

Just a bet Chapter 2

As I sat with the girls at the table they only looked at me confused and then at Chan and then back at me, "Oh, he said he wants to study with us...hope it's not a problem" I say with a shy smile, I'm nearly making 'friends' and now they think I'm weird, fuck I should've said no to him.

 "No worries it's completely fine, hi Chan how are you?" Mina said with a flirtatious voice, OK yeah... I should've said no to him, now all the attention is on the pretty boy next to me.

As we grabbed our books to start studying Chan grabbed his book and started doodling or something idk, and I got to my book and started doing research on the victim's side of the declaration with Lia while Yuna, Mina, and Tzuyu started looking into the defendant's case to see the reasons he got prison for 18 years.

"Ugh I can't believe he actually did that," Tzuyu said mad at what she was reading "Yeah he deserves more years in jail than this," Yuna said angrily. "to be honest I would've to chop his dick off," I said looking at the papers in front of me, then I felt everyone silent and staring at me as I looked up "what? it's true," I said as Chan next to me laughed "You're so aggressive," he said chuckling. To be honest, the afternoon went nice we finished our project and Chan was silent and just made jokes once in a while, it was a chill time, nice maybe this would be the start of new friends.

----------------------------------------------------------------------- The next day 

Yesterday Chan left before us because his friends were waiting for him, and I had a good time with my classmates.

As I was closing my locker there was a face on the other side of my locker door holding a notebook, "Thank you so much Y/n I owe you my life" Hyunjin said giving my statistics book back "Yeah, yeah sure" Tired of his dramatic ways of saying things "Don't be grumpy I know it's so early and tomorrow is Saturday, so that means you're invited to my party tonight?" he said with a smile in his face and his hands up to his shoulders offering the invitations to me "thanks Hyunjin, but you know that's not my thing" I said closing the locker "that's why I'm inviting you, you need some fun in your life, your always the same boring y/n I know" yeah Hyunjin and I were classmates at elementary so we can say we know each other somehow "yeah but I already have plans" you say lazily "oooo with a boy?" he says moving his eyebrows up and down? "ew no, with myself I mean" "aww see this is what I mean you're boring as fuck" " I don't know no one there" I said as I began to walk and he followed behind "You know me"   "yeah but I bet you're leaving me alone before the night starts" I remark "Chan is going to be there and you also met Han" he said "yeah man, whats up with Chan?" I said and he looked confused "Wdym I heard he is trying to be friends with you " 

"yeah but he feels like a creepy stalker just out of the blue talking to someone he doesn't know" "Well yeah that's him being himself, but you should really come to the party and make friends," he says as we getting to our destination "stop having pitty for me Hyujin you know I hate that, and as you said that's me being me," I said as we enter statistics classroom and I sat down in my desk in the back and he sat next to me "I'm not having pitty, is just that you look..." he said trying to look for the right word "weird? strange? uncanny?? I said slightly offended and bothered as I know people see me that way  "No I mean you look lonely, like you need to socialize more with people, and people are not me" "Ugh Hyunjin you annoying," I said as I rested my head against the desk "ok, but just know that your invited k?" "yeah, yeah, now shoo, shoo" he left to sit with Chan as we all share statistics class for what we study.

4:48 pm

Class finished and I'm headed to my dorm now, finally, I can sleep and have my own God damn time, I can take a nice bath, maybe read a book or- "HEY WAIT UP" Chan screamed from behind me, oh no please Lord no! "hey I told you to wait" "yeah but I just wanted to ignore you" I said as I kept walking "rude" he scoffed "you have any plans for tonight?" he asked, here we go again "no... why" I sighed as I already know what's he gonna say "well there is this party tonight idk but they told me to bring someone so how about we go together?" he said looking at me with a smile on his face "well chan idk about that, parties are not my thing yk, I rather stay at home" "yuna and the girls are going to be there if your wondering" he said as we continue walking "and don't leave me alone in this" he said pouting "I bet you're not going to be alone" I said rolling my eyes playfully at him and smirking in his direction "oh don't be jealous y/n I can give you attention too baby" he said winking at me "no chan is not that, I stoped my tracks as he stoped as well, and I look at him "Parties are not my things I told you, and I just don't want to be there!" I raised my voice annoyed and a bit flustered by his comment which literally came out of the blue,

"OK fine, see how about you try it, I swear I'm not gonna let you alone, I'm not even going to drink for your sake, and if you don't like it then I'll take you back home k? you thought about it for some seconds and reminded yourself about what Hyunjin told you earlier. "Fine but if I don't like it you better bring me home, and you better be sobber ok?" "yay," he said and put his arms up and did a little dance "Where are we btw?" he said as we stopped at a bus stop "I'm going home idk about you tho" 

"wait what? no, let me take you home I have a car" 

"Don't worry about that, I'm already here, sorry for dragging you with me"

"No worries let me take you home seriously" You thought about feeling guilty and also thinking about what others could say about you

"Really?" you asked "Yeah totally," he said as we walked towards his car, he really had a nice car, it was black tall and big. 

As we got in he put on music and I recognized the song immediately "You like Rihanna?" "oh yes she is one of my favorites," he said as we were chilling to the music 

"you know y/n you a new one" "Pardon?" I ask confused as this is my second year here

"I mean you are different, you're cool you know, you don't give a shit about how you look, I'm not saying you don't look nice but mostly girls are so obsessed with their appearance, and your pretty chill, you have a vibe of the meaning free, like fuck everyone style, yk? even the way you talk, you stand up for yourself, I see why Hyunjin is your friend," he says looking at the road 

"Thanks... where did that come from" you chuckled as you were confused, nobody ever told you so many positive things about yourself, not even your parents. "idk man I'm just being honest, you have a cool vibe, guess you also a tuff knuckle to crack?" "What is that supposed to mean?"

"Idk just saying " "can you turn left here please" "Sure," he said as we arrived at my house "So pick you up at 9?" he said from the car window as I was getting down "Uhh sure," you said confused as what time the party started  "cool see you later?"

"yes see you later, thank you for the ride home" You smiled at him as he smiled back and left your front house.

Damn, that was a rollercoaster, why do I feel awkward and embarrassed/flustered at the same time, and why tf he said I was a tuff knuckle to crack?

Well now I have to look in my closet wtf is presentable for a party tonight. 

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Thank you so much for reading I hope you enjoy it

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Next Chapter maybe next week, I'm trying to do 2 per week

love you all

[krikeymate]

Wait but can you imagine if Sam had a twin brother or sister who would be as protective as her. Tara would go mad and I like it

Sam has a twin brother, Raimi.

It's funny. Before the diary, Raimi was always the troublemaker. Sam was the one looking after Tara and trying to keep the peace and be the adult in their house when their parents wouldn't. Raimi liked to have fun, to be the kids they were. Sam thought he had no sense of responsibility. All she wanted was for him to grow up.

Sam and Raimi love each other dearly, they're like two halves of a whole... but that changed when Tara came about, and Raimi's ashamed to say he was jealous. Sam looked at the baby like she was her whole world, where it used to be him. He acts out. He loves his baby sister, he just wishes Sam would pay a little more attention to him too.

Then Sam finds the diary, and everything changes.

He listens to his family scream, standing quietly in the hall. When Tara rushes out, he ushers her back into her room and sits with her as they yell. He's old enough to piece together sentences from the scattered words he can hear. Tara isn't. She crawls into his lap and for the first time, he lets her. He does his best to distract her, and him.

In the aftermath, he gets quiet. He tries to fill the void with Tara that Sam leaves behind as she withdraws into herself. He regrets that it doesn't work, wishes he had spent more time with the girl- with Sam. If he had, maybe he would know how to help them.

He becomes the man of the house, by order of his mother. He gets a job, earns as much as he can. Sam falls apart. He covers for her, when he can, but all she wants to do these days is scream at their mother and suffer.

They share the same father, the news impacts them both, yet for once, there is a divide between them that he just can't cross. He feels as betrayed as she does, he misses the man he called father, who would take him to baseball games and ruffle his hair and talk about how proud he was of him, how alike they were. Where was that man? Was it all a lie?

(It's a long time before he learns that Sam was never upset about their father leaving, but about the truth, how it gave credence to a dark corner of her mind).

Sam leaves, and Raimi steps up. Tara never wants him the way she wants her sister, he's long since accepted that. (Secretly, he thinks that he wants Sam more than her too. He hates that thought, banishes it away). But Sam leaves, and they become closer. Raimi can't be there for it all, he works long hours to provide for them as their mother drinks it all away, but he does his best.

He feels conflicted every time he wakes up on the couch to find himself covered in a blanket, shoes off and to the side, a covered meal and a drink waiting for him on the coffee table. He never wants Tara to be the little woman of the house like he was the little man. He wants Tara to be the kid he could no longer be.

Nobody really gets what they want.

He's at work when Tara is attacked. He never forgives himself.

Sam comes home, and he can't quite forgive her either. She abandoned them. He keeps his anger under check, Tara doesn't need this right now. She needs the freedom to feel what she feels.

Raimi's the one who appears in the hospital. He gets sliced by Ghostface, and, distracted by Richie yelling out, knocked out against the door. Once that's all over, he tells Sam to take Tara and to leave, that he'll follow when he's able to get out. Richie convinces him that's stupid, that's he's injured not crippled and they all should get out of this town, together.

So they leave, together. Or... don't leave.

Richie tries to convince Sam that Tara is the other Ghostface, then, when that doesn't work, tries to convince her it's Raimi. After all, Amber's always had a crush on her brother, and why wouldn't he attack Tara and try to attack Sam... Sam left him all alone to take care of the little sister he never really wanted, he feels like he's had his childhood stolen from him. Sam knew it would never be her sister, but Raimi... he is Billy Loomis' son after all...

Raimi watches as his twin stabs a man to death with a manic look in her eye. He watches his little sister shoot a girl she loves in the head.

He feels something inside him break, like he's been reduced to the odd one out yet again.

Skip forward, Sam gets anxious and paranoid, is desperate to keep Tara within her sight, within her grasp. Raimi gets frustrated with both of them, jealousy and guilt over the jealousy waging a war inside of him. Tara won't talk about how she's feeling - not that she ever did, and Sam. Sam.

Sam gets it in her head that she's going to go with Tara to college. Raimi won't let them go off together alone.

Sam doesn't get to just come back and steal his little sister, not after she threw her away.

Tara becomes suffocated, under her own trauma, under the weight of a sibling rivalry she's been involved with since the moment she was born.