#and not a post trying to spark debate n shit

[puppysdog]

i do wish there was a way i could talk about how i cant trust anyone using the pan label due to the years of transphobic bullshit i got from that side as a bisexual, and how its so normalized and modernized to say pan instead of bi now, especially by big name companies and celebrities, that the transphobia is making a come back because we never were fully able to address the issues with the online resurgence origin of pansexual without being called mean transphobic bisexuals. like it’s heartbreaking and infuriating that these should be my queer siblings but instead i get told that im transphobic for being bi, something thats both my gender AND sexuality, because a more “inclusive” term came around, despite the fact that bisexuality has always been inclusive. I WANT to be in solidarity but how am i supposed to do shit when some 18 year old thinks theyre higher and mightier and the top of the inclusivity chain for using a different label and erasing years upon years of queer history for bisexuals

[munsonsduchess]

Scrunchie Love

summary: you go to a halloween gig at the hideout and meet eddie after the show who needs some help with his hair w/c: 1,591 warnings: smoking, mentions of a serial killer, the reader briefly feels scared to be alone with eddie a/n: holy shit would you look at that? i am indeed, alive! i'm as shocked as you guys are! honestly i have just had zero motivation to write anything since the summer but i wanted to make sure i posted something for halloween so enjoy!

The air was thick with stale sweat, stale beer and stale smoke as you pushed your way through the crowd for the exit and the promise of fresh air. You’d seen all you’d came to see that evening and had no intention of sticking around longer than necessary. 

The hideout was a small, dingy bar at the best of times but the owner filled it to capacity and then some for nights like this. Halloween was always the one night a year they could be sure of a crowd, even more so since Corroded Coffin had sprung to fame when their guitarist was accused of murder. 

After the real murderer was caught and Eddie Munson’s name had been officially cleared by the shady looking government types who’d swarmed Hawkins after the fact, the owner of the Hideout was only to happy to let the band start playing again. Any attention is good attention after all. 

It was hard enough to get access to new music in the current day and age , with mothers crying on the news about their poor innocent children being “taken in” by the devil’s music or Preachers at pulpits warning against letting anything ‘impure’ into the home. It didn’t help that in the middle of nowhere Middle America it took longer for new music to reach the record stores and radio stations than it did in the big cities or even Indianapolis itself. 

So there you were standing outside a dive bar in a town you didn’t live in because you’d heard about a show and wanted to see if the band lived up to the hype.

They did. 

⊱ ────── {.⋅ 🎃 ⋅.} ───── ⊰

Eddie was grinning from ear to ear after their set, Halloween really was the best night of the year. He’d been a little hesitant, of course, to play to a crowd this big. With the resentment that had built in town for him and by extension the band because of their visible difference from the modern mainstream even before Vecna and the upside down and Chrissy Cunningham, an unlikely comrade in arms who stood firm at Eddie’s side throughout it all and maintained his innocence to anyone who thought otherwise. 

She’d come to see their show along with the rest of the Hawkins Monster Slayers or at least the ones old enough to be in a bar, or who’s fake ID looked convincing enough. She had flung herself at him after stepping off stage and exclaimed about how amazing the gig had been,,

“Eddie that was so cool!” She yelled over the noise of the crowd, “if you guys don’t get signed soon then clearly those big record labels don’t know a good thing when it rocks an entire bar like this!”

“You’re too kind Chris” Eddie laughed wrapping an arm around her middle, trying not to get her shirt wet with his own sweat

There were congratulations from the rest of the assembled group, Jonathan Byers offering to take 'professional' pictures of the band anytime they wanted for their first album cover. Steve Harrington offering his parents money to bankroll anything the band needed,

"They're assholes anyway, the money should go to a good cause" 

Cue Robin Buckley stating that she was the best cause and Steve should give her a thousand dollars so she could 'woo' the girl of her dreams. Nancy Wheeler adding that if the girl in question was only attracted to Robin for her money than she wasn't worth knowing.

Which somehow sparked a debate amongst the boys in the band and the others about what they'd do for money, or who they'd do for money. It was at this point Eddie snuck away for his post show smoke break/adrenaline crash panic attack.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ 🎃 ⋅.} ───── ⊰

You were standing in the parking lot of the hideout shuffling from one foot to the other trying to get some heat into your body. The payphone inside the hideout hadn't been working so you'd had to walk a few blocks to a gas station to use theirs.

You'd hoped to be able to hang out in the gas station for your ride but were told in no uncertain terms if you were there for longer than it took to make your phone call that the store owner would involve the law. Something about the teens in this town not taking advantage of him again. 

You didn't get the time to tell the store owner you weren't from Hawkins before you were all but shoved back out into the cold. So you'd made your way back to the Hideout and commenced the 'keep warm' dance on the frigid October night. 

"Hey, are you ok?" a man's voice called, causing you to snap in the direction of the sound, hoping that you weren't about to be the latest victim of Hawkins' terrible luck. Instead you found yourself looking at one Eddie Munson with a cigarette in his hands, the smoke curling towards the street light above him.

"Oh, yeah, no I'm ok. Thanks" it wasn't that you believed the rumours but you still had no desire to be alone in a deserted parking lot with a strange man you didn't know. The statistics weren't great. 

"If you want to dance you should probably go back inside. Though if you've gotta use the restroom you're probably safer out here, I don't know about the girls room but the guys isn't exactly clean" Eddie laughed,

"I'm just waiting on my ride home" you told him, "they should be here soon" 

"You shouldn't be waiting out here on your own" he said coming closer, "especially not tonight, all the freaks and weirdos are out" 

"I'm fine really, I'm not gonna be here that long anyway" you repeated hoping he'd take the hint

"You're not from Hawkins are you?" Eddie asked with a laugh, "nobody from town would be out here on their own, I mean maybe if they were drunk or high enough" 

Eddie had gotten closer and you'd not realised that for every step he'd taken towards you you'd taken a step backwards, Eddie had noticed though. You could tell from his expression. Which made you feel like a massive asshole,

"No I'm from the next town over, Salem? I just came to the bar tonight for the show. You guys sounded great" you said, taking a step towards Eddie and hoping you didn't come across as a total dick, "it's so hard to hear new music in bumfuck nowhere you know?" 

"Oh yeah for sure, gotta be careful with all that devil's music around these days" Eddie joked crossing himself, "someone ought to think of the children" 

"Oh yes the children, they must be protected from y'know satan and stuff" you nodded seriously before the giggles took over, "oh my god I can't" 

"I'm Eddie" he offered his free hand that wasn't holding the cigarette and you shook it and gave him your name,

"I'm serious though you guys sounded really cool, do you have any demo tapes or anything?" 

"I mean not yet but I'm suddenly seriously considering it" he winked at you making you laugh again, "I mean a pretty girl tells you how cool she thinks your band is changes a lot" 

"I didn't say anything about cool" you teased, "but you're alright" 

Eddie clutched his chest with his free hand and stumbled backwards, groaning and making choking noises,

"I have been mortally wounded" 

"Oh no, whatever will the band do without you?" you asked, "however will they go on without someone so cool?" 

Eddie righted himself and pushed his hair out of his face, grinning broadly. The cigarette had fallen from his hand amongst his theatrics and lay burning softly on the ground, 

"Well would you look at that? I'm cured!" Eddie announced bounding back over to you before blowing some stray locks of hair out of his face, "sorry about that, my hair has a mind of its own and apparently wanted to be included in the conversation" 

You nodded before pulling the scrunchie out of your hair and offering it to him, 

"Well since this is a private conversation why don't you use this to keep the nosiness under control?" 

Eddie accepted the scrunchie gratefully and tied his hair up in a ponytail brandishing the ends with a flourish,

"I really think this is my colour don't you?" he asked shaking the ponytail around, "it's adding extra cool points to my rockstar image" 

You were about to reply when you saw your ride pull into the parking lot, you hadn't even noticed the time going by while you'd been talking, flirting, with Eddie,

"That's my ride so I gotta go but, I'm holding you to that Demo Tape" 

"Well if you're going to hold it over me, but how will I know where to bring the sacred item?" 

You grabbed a pen from your jacket pocket and scribbled your phone number on Eddie's hand, 

"You can call me when it's done. The scrunchie is collateral until then" 

“I guess i’ll see you then” 

“Count on it, Eddie” 

Eddie watched as you got in the car and drove away. He waited until you were out of sight before fist pumping the air, he couldn’t believe what just happened. Chrissy wasn’t going to believe it either when he told her. 

As a matter of fact Eddie immediately turned around and raced back to the stage door of the Hideout and kicked it open,

“Chris, holy fuck” this was too good not to share. 

He had a date. 

[5-puthyyy]

Who’s Got the Power?

© : please DO NOT copy or post my work anywhere.

pairing/s : wanda maximoff x fem!reader + natasha romanoff x fem!reader (past)

summary : since you’ve joined the team, you and wanda have consistently argued over who has the strongest powers. the rivalry only dangerously progressed when you two started dating and you find the best thing to do is tame her bratty side... (request)

warning/s (18+ ONLY) : smut; bottom!wanda + top!reader, degradation, humiliation, voyeurism (kinda), choking, strap-on, restraints (ropes), ass play, spanking, marking, subspace

word count : 5.8k

wanda maximoff x reader masterlist

You’re absolutely sure that nobody doubts how powerful your girlfriend is, especially you. Wanda has proven herself time and time again: she infiltrated all your minds easily during her first interaction with all of you; stopped the train in Sokovia and ripped Ultron’s heart out; held her own and contained the bomb in Lagos (before losing control); held up the falling building at the airport. Time and time again, she proved herself to be one of the most powerful Avengers. But for some reason, she wanted your approval more than anything else and will never stop until she gets you to admit she’s more powerful than you.

Ever since you joined the team, Wanda has been sparking up little debates about who is the most powerful out of the group. It was usually the discussion that makes everyone storm back to their rooms after a drunken night - always a Stark party. What started off as playful turned into a competition, a daily argument, hatred between the two of you growing until you finally let it out when you crashed your lips to hers.

You definitely asserted your dominance the night you first slept together. She tried to fight but you could tell she’s just a massive brat that needs to be tamed - that wants to be tamed - so you did exactly that. Well, you tried to do that. You pinned her against the wall and thrust your fingers into her, but she bit into your neck hard enough to draw blood. You shoved her face into the sheets and pounded into her with your strap from behind, and she giggled, teasingly saying ‘is that all you got?’. It was fun, definitely really fucking fun because she made you mad and rough and always kept you on your toes. But you’ve had enough of the arguing.

“Stop using that point! We can both do it!” You groan out when Wanda brought up the argument yet again in the jet. You were on your way to a quick mission. Simple, really, just collect intel and take out the HYDRA base. You’ve been looking for Bucky for months now and it both breaks and warms your heart that Steve hasn’t stopped looking.

“I can move stuff with my mind, Y/N. With my mind.” She claims, making a show of it by pulling a water bottle from the box to her hands.

“That’s a win for me and you know it. You have to use yours hands to move shit. I just think and it moves.” You counter her as the bottle swishes out of her hands and into yours. You take a victorious sip and roll your eyes when she huffs out stubbornly.

“But I can move heavier stuff.” She crosses her arms over her chest.

“You practically break your back every single time you do that.” You raise a brow at her and she narrows her eyes in response.

“But it’s getting easier because I’m getting stronger day by day.”

“We’re all getting stronger. Doesn’t count.” You don’t notice Clint’s eyes darting from you to her with each argument, amused at your antics. Steve’s watching the two of you with his arms crossed over his chest and a stern look on his face.

“I read minds.” Wanda says with a smirk, knowing you can’t do that.

“But I can block you from it.” You counter and her smirk falters for a second before coming back wider, gaze hardening.

“If I try hard enough I can get in.” She says cockily but you step forward, standing your ground.

“No you can’t.”

“I can.”

“Try it then.” You challenge her with a smirk and she clears her throat before her eyes turn red. You love those eyes of hers trying so hard to infiltrate your mind. But your powers - being somewhat similar to hers - let you block her. You can see the mists of red trying to pass through the gates of your mind. You use your blue mist to push her back.

“Let me in.” Wanda grunts out, narrowing her eyes and stepping forward threateningly. You can’t help but laugh out loud at her, loving the angry growl she gives you. You just know you’re in for a fun night of her bratty, aggressive side.

“That’s your attempt? Embarrassing.” You push further teasingly but she doesn’t laugh or smile. She crosses her arms and quirks a brow.

“I’m the strongest Avenger.”

“You’re the cockiest Avenger.”

“With good reason.”

“Can I gag them?” Nat speaks up finally - you’re surprised she hadn’t said anything yet - as she walks up to stand between the two of you with a quirked brow, an impatient and bored expression on her face.

“Take me to dinner first.” You smirk at her, looking her up and down with an exaggerated wink. Wanda rolls her eyes at you, scoffing and biting the inside of her cheek with jealousy. She hates that you slept with Natasha before you slept with her. She hates that you still flirt with her - you call it harmless flirting, and it really is just that, but Wanda can’t help worrying that it may be more. You love how possessive she gets so that’s the main reason you do it anyway.

“Not how it happened the first time.” Nat mumbles, preparing herself by the door, getting into a stance to jump out.

“I’ll throw you out right now.” Wanda warns Nat and you don’t hear an inch of playfulness in her tone. You step behind her, wrapping your arms around her waist. She huffs and pushes back but you tighten your hold and kiss her neck softly.

“I’m yours, sweetheart.” You murmur into her ear with another soft kiss and you can feel her skin heating a little as she blushes. But she rolls her eyes and elbows you in the gut, stepping out of your arms.

“You’re a pain in my ass.” She grumbles, hands glowing with red balls as the door opens. Nat and Clint jump out, Steve following. You watch your girlfriend sway her hips as she walks and flies out.

“And a gorgeous ass it is.” You mumble with a smirk and follow.

“There’s nothing on Bucky. Sorry, Cap.” You glance out the window quickly as you start the download, looking over as Clint shoots arrows at the agents coming out from the building. Nat stands behind you at the entrance of the room, ready to take down any agent that comes this way.

“Not your fault. Good job. Download everything and wipe it after you’re done.” You can hear the disappointment in his voice and can’t help sighing too. Another failed mission - well, not failed entirely since you did get some information, just not on The Winter Solider.

“I should go down to help. You got this, right?” You ask Nat, walking over to her. She raises a brow, annoyed that you’d doubt her abilities. “Shush, I didn’t mean it like that.” You laugh as she punches you in the arm and walks over to the computer. You run out of the room, down the corridor and to the stairs. 

You hear voices echoing from downstairs and slow down your steps. The second one agent pops into your view, your eyes turn blue as you throw him against the wall, head banging against it harshly. Another comes at you but you push his foot in front of the other. He trips and lands chin first onto the stairs, biting his tongue off. He groans out, bleeding and crying as you step over him and carry on down the stairs.

“I don’t need your help!” Wanda grunts as she catches your eyes as you walk out of the side entrance. A few agents direct their attention to you and away from Wanda, charging at you. You easily fight them off, smashing their heads together, dragging them from the feet across the space towards Steve who punches them into the ground.

“Seems like you do.” You smirk at your angry girlfriend as she fights off the agents throwing punches at her. She’s gotten amazingly good at hand-to-hand combat since Natasha has been her trainer - it was Steve until she pinned him down once and he blushed deeply, awkwardly suggesting Nat would be a better trainer.

“Hey! Over here!” Wanda screams out to watch the attention of an influx of agents coming from another entrance. You growl out at her antics, rushing to help. But it was too late; they drew their guns out and fired at her. She held her hands out, creating a barrier to catch the bullets which fall to the ground. She looks over at you to smirk, but this distraction causes her finger to flicker, breaking a part of the barrier. A stray bullet cuts through her side. The second the barrier drops, yours comes up, covering the both of you in a bubble as you run over to her.

“You fucking idiot.” You yell at her, putting pressure on her wound. It’s just a graze, a flesh wound, and not her first either. You know she’ll be fine, but you’re still fuming - you're hiding your worry with anger but she knows how you feel. “All because you wanted to show off, Wan? Really?” You fly away in the blue bubble to the Quinjet, away from the fight. They can handle themselves for the time being.

“I’m fine.” Wanda mumbles stubbornly, wincing while you carry her in your arms into the jet, laying her on a medical bed. You ignore her words as she shrugs her jacket off and lifts her shirt up to reveal the wound. “Okay. It’s my fault.” You stay silent, ignoring her again. Steam is practically coming out of your ears at how angry you are at her for this. But you still grab the medical kit. You still drop to your knees next to her and - perhaps too harshly - clean her wound with rubbing alcohol. She groans out, biting her lip. You glance up at her and notice the tears in her eyes. Yours soften when you see her.

“Why do you have to be so stubborn?” You ask her genuinely, exhaustion in your tone. She doesn’t answer, leaning back as you start dressing her wound. 

“Ugh. I’m sorry.” Wanda finally says stubbornly after you move away from her and start walking back out. You pause in your tracks and turn to look at her over your shoulder.

“I gotta go help them. Get some rest.” You tell her sternly and she cowers with a nod, gulping and turning to face the wall. She knows you’ll make her pay for this later.

Two days later and Wanda had healed completely due to Stark’s advanced technology in the medical floor of the compound. You stayed by her side the entire time, making sure she was well fed, well looked after, entertained enough with those sitcoms she loves so much. She apologised at least five times a day, sensing how angry you were. But you were holding that anger back. Wanda already knows how you’ll be letting that anger out later.

Stark had thrown another party tonight, but not really a party party. It was just the team and a couple agents that came on missions with you regularly. You had big plans. Big plans that you’re not entirely sure how Wanda would react to but this has to work. You’ve been trying to tame her bratty side for so long and nothing has worked so far. You’ve handcuffed her, spanked her, punished her in so many different ways...apart from this. This is new.

A few hours later and it was just the team left sitting around the living space making small talk. Everyone had drunk a little - Thor more than any of you, passing his Asgardian liquor between him, Steve and Bruce. Nat sat across you and Wanda on the couch, sipping on her fourth martini of the night.

“You could not be more wrong about that.” Natasha tells Wanda and rolls her eyes. They’ve been having a ‘discussion’ about the best meals that came out of Eastern Europe. Wanda insists it’s paprikash and Nat claims it’s pelmeni - you’re an innocent observer, refusing to side with either out of fear that the other will never cook for you again.

“Pelmeni is so plain. Where’s the flavour, Natasha? I’m disappointed. I thought you had better taste.” Wanda teases with a playful tut to which the redhead raises a brow and looks at you pointedly. Wanda growls possessively, nails digging into your thigh. You suppose Nat’s right about that; she does have excellent taste. You smirk cockily and lean back, sipping on your beer. It’s time. You turn to glance at Wanda for a brief second before using your powers, zoning in on her thighs.

“I have great taste. You do know I’ve been, like, everywhere, right? You’re still an innocent little thing.” Nat smirks at Wanda who shifts uncomfortably. She thinks she’s the one causing this discomfort, but it’s your powers gently drawing circles on the inside of Wanda’s thighs. Her fingers dig into your thighs again, as if she’s giving you a warning. You almost laugh at her attempt at dominance, as if she could do anything to you. Just to show off, your trail your magic to ghost over her pussy, gently pressing against her clit. She gasps loudly at that, bringing Nat’s attention back to her. “You okay, Maximoff?” Nat asks with narrowed eyes.

“Fine! Just a little headache.” Wanda laughs out nervously, leaning back, pressing her thighs together. But that does nothing to stop you. You press harder against her sensitive clit, biting down on your lip to stop yourself from smiling.

“Should calm down with the drinking.” Natasha suggests, glancing at you to see your attention is all on Wanda’s scrunched up face.

“She’s okay. Can handle herself, can’t you, baby?” You tease Wanda with a smirk as she nods and picks up her glass with a shaky hand. Just as she puts the glass to her lips, you focus on creating a finger-like shape and slowly thrust into her entrance. She fails at hiding her whimper as she spills a little of her drink. The liquid drips down her chest between the valley of her breasts. Nat focuses in on the drops - hard not to look considering Wanda opted for wearing a low-cut dress.

‘Stop.’ Wanda speaks into your mind in a shaky tone. You smirk at that, raising a brow, this time locking eyes with Nat. You thrust another finger into Wanda, harder this time and she can't control her moan this time, mind already hazy after a night of drinking. Nat raises a brow back at you, subtly licking her bottom lip and glancing back at Wanda. She puts two and two together pretty quickly, expression turning amused.

“Hey, Nat, can we postpone training tomorrow?” You ask, raising your voice a little to cover Wanda’s soft pants as you continue thrusting into her with your powers.

“Give me a valid reason and maybe I’ll let you two off.” Nat demands challengingly, finishing her martini, placing the glass down on the table and biting into an olive on the stick.

“My poor baby here won’t be able to walk tomorrow.” You say patronisingly, watching Wanda with a smirk as you rub fast circles over her clit. Your eyes flash blue at her and she clenches her jaw, head dropping onto your shoulder, hiding her face in your neck. She pants heavily against your neck, teeth scraping your skin, practically drooling as she struggles to control her pleasure. She’s already so close, more turned on than she’s ever been. Your suspicions had been right.

“I guess I can make an exception for your brat.” Nat says harshly and Wanda lets out a loud moan at that. Luckily the music was still on and the boys were too far into their conversations to notice. You stretch her out a little more, thrusting faster and curling, swirling your magic inside her, hitting all her sweet spots. You use your powers to create a suction motion over her clit and she loses all control, falling over the edge as she bites into your neck. She doesn't hide her mewls and whines as she cums, pussy clenching around nothing. Nat’s eyes digging into her only makes her cum harder. You slow your movements, letting her ride her high as you sift a hand through her locks.

“Good girl.” You mumble into her ear, kissing her cheek softly. She’s bright red when she looks at you, blushing so deeply with embarrassment. She can barely meet Nat’s eyes as she stands up, stumbling a little with her weak knees. She rushes out of the room and you can’t help but follow with a smirk, waving a goodnight to Natasha.

“Why the hell would you-” Wanda tries to speak up the second you close the door but you shut her up quickly with a hand around her throat.

“You filthy fucking whore. You loved that, didn’t you?” You spit out, eyes wide and filled with lust staring into her green doe-eyes. She cowers, the bratty look in her eyes nowhere to be seen now. “My little slut wants to be humiliated, hmm? If that’s the only way to get you to behave I wouldn't mind fucking you on the Quinjet before every mission. In front of everyone.” Wanda lets out an uncontrollable moan at the thought, legs shaking a little as her pussy throbs in excitement. “Off.” You command and she immediately undresses as fast as she can. You take your time undressing, only halfway done by the time she’s stark naked. She stands like a lost puppy, hands in front of her and eyes looking up at you, pout on her kissable lips. You shove her down to her knees with your hand around her throat and she obliges with no resistance. She desperately clings onto your leg and rubs herself against your boot with a loud moan. Holy fucking shit.

“Please, I need you so bad.” She moans out, grinding against your boot that you can see is already slick with her juices.

“Desperate fucking whore.” You growl out and pull your jeans down along with your underwear, hands pulling on her locks to bring her face towards your core. Wanda happily laps at your pussy, sliding her tongue through your folds with a small moan at the taste. “You love being on your knees, don’t you? Right where you belong.” You grunt, rutting against her tongue as it slides into you as deep as it can go. She’s always been great with her tongue, already having your eyes rolling to the back of your head. She’s letting out soft moans as she continues grinding against your boot with need.

Your girlfriend lets you use her mouth to get off, swirling her tongue inside you, her nose brushing against your clit with each thrust against her face. She’s getting off on the humiliation of being used like this, turning into a desperate mess rutting against your boot of all things. Just looking down at her makes your walls throb, already embarrassingly close.

“Wish the boys would have seen you cum too.” You breathe out as she pushes you closer to the edge, moans vibrating to your clit. “Wanna cum on my boot, hmm? You’re my fucking bitch, aren't you? My fucktoy. Oh, fuck, I’m gonna cum all over your mouth, pretty girl. Don’t stop.” You stare down at her with your mouth hung open as she rubs her nose harder against your clit, tongue pushing in and out of your entrance. She’s so desperate to please you, eyes wide and filled with submission. 

She’s grinding faster, moaning like a whore as her clit rubs against your hard boot. You watch her twitch as her body stills for a second, eyes still locked onto yours as she struggles to keep them open. Watching her cum pushes you over the edge, fingers tugging harshly on her locks, pushing her head impossibly close to your pussy. She shuts her eyes at that, face scrunching up at the suffocation, whimpering as you kick your boot up to press against her clit repeatedly, pushing her over the edge again.

“You’re like a bitch in heat.” You gasp out in astonishment as she continues grinding harder, despite how sensitive her pussy is. “Get the fuck off.” You growl, kicking her off a little. She whines, trying to grip on again but you raise your boot to stop her. “Clean it up. Fucking cum slut.” You don’t know if you’ve pushed it too far or not, but you get your answer quickly when her lips quiver and she immediately starts licking the top of your boot eagerly.

You definitely didn’t expect Wanda to get off to this level of humiliation. She’s practically vibrating with need and you can sense it from her aura. Wanda’s more turned on than you’ve ever seen her.

“Hey. Look at me, fucking whore.” Wanda’s eyes shoot up to look into yours and you move your boot away from her, leaving her mouth open. You grip onto her jaw to keep her lips spread apart before spitting down harshly. “Filthy slut.” Just as you were about to ask her to get on the bed, your eyes caught the mirror in the corner of the room. “Stay.” You tell her and she obeys, hands resting on her lap and watching your movements as you walk around the room, stripping the rest of your clothes off, kicking your boots off to the side. You pull out a bag from your wardrobe, digging through to pick out some items.

Wanda has no idea what you could be doing to her that you haven’t already, but she hasn’t seen that bag before. You either planned this or have had some stuff saved up for later, but either way she’s both scared and excited at what you could be doing next. She’s watching your stance, your movements that ooze with confidence that she hasn’t seen before, not at this level. You pull out ropes with a smirk, glancing over at Wanda every couple seconds as you twist the ropes together.

“You loved Nat watching you cum, didn’t you? Her calling you my brat? Knowing you belong to me?” You ask her with an accusatory tone as you pull her hands behind her back, tying them tightly together. You whisper into her ear as you pull back.

“Yes, Mistress.” Fuck. That’s new. And she knows you like it by the small hints of a grin on her face. No. You don’t want any of her bratty side to come out tonight. You growl at her and slap her across the face to which she whimpers and cowers away from your gaze.

“My fucktoy. That’s all you are. I get to use you whenever the fuck I want to. Such a filthy fucking whore...you let me fuck you like that in front of Natasha. You let her watch.” You spit out as you shove her face into the ground, going behind her to push her calves to the back of her thighs, tying her legs together too. She tries to sit up but can't because of her restraints, staying with her cheek pressed up against the floor and her ass up in the air. She’s dripping already, pussy lips glistening, tempting you in. You don't give in though. You lift her up like a fucking rag doll and drop her on the bed onto her back, knowing she’d be uncomfortable in that position.

“Mistress, please!” Wanda cries out as she hears the buzzing of a Wand. You press it against her clit, smirking as she fails at trying to grind against it.

“Greedy whore. You’ve already cum twice. You really think you deserve another orgasm?” You position it to rest on the bed against her clit, buzzing at a setting that is sure to make her cum. But you want her to control herself. She knows she’ll get punished if she cums without your permission.

“I’m sorry, Mistress, please, I’m so sorry.” Wanda cries out as you pinch her nipples and pull harshly, slapping her breasts until they’re red. You smirk wickedly as she bites her bottom lip harshly, face scrunching up as she tries her best to control herself.

“Do you even know what you’re apologising for or are you just saying it so I’d let you cum?” You laugh out loud as Wanda whimpers, eyes wide and pleading. “How fucking desperate can you get? You came so quick when Nat was watching you, then rutted against my boot like an animal, and now this? Oh, honey, this is another level of pathetic.” You pout at her condescendingly and grip her cheeks in your hand. “You’re my property. My bitch. Only I choose when or if you get to cum. You ask for permission. Understood?” Wanda nods quickly, gasping and whimpering as you slap her across the face again. You lean down growling as you bite into her neck, soothing the wound with your tongue. You moan at the salty taste, sucking marks into her skin along her neck.

“Oh, God, Mistress, I can’t.” Wanda moans out into your ear, straining against the ropes keeping her limbs together. You wrap a hand around her neck as you kiss and mark down her chest. You want to make sure you claim your territory.

“Can’t what, slut?”

“I can’t hold it, Mistress. I need to cum, please.” Wanda begs you, lips forming into a pout. She tries to move away from the Wand but her attempts backfire as she only grinds into it, letting out a whorish cry at the pleasure. It’s building up fast and she can’t hold back any longer. “Please! Please, fuck, oh fuck!” Wanda moans out, voice cracking as tears roll down her cheeks.

“Fucktoys don’t cum. They get used.” You growl at her and pull the Wand away before she can cum. Wanda sobs as you throw it near the mirror and lift her up again, dropping her to the ground, face pressed onto the floor in front of the mirror. You grab a pillow and put it under her to push her head up a little so she’d get a good view.

“I’m your fucktoy, Mistress. Just a hole, Mistress.” Wanda pants out obediently, watching you through the mirror as you go back to the bag and pull out a large strap. “Please use me, Mistress, please. I’m yours to fuck.” She immediately begs, excited already as you slide the harness on and stroll towards her with a smirk. You drop down and spank her ass hard, loving the scream and moan of pleasure that escapes her throat. Her voice sounds raw from the screaming, eyes still teary from her orgasm being withheld.

“Such a cute little ass. Just a hole, huh? All your holes are mine, aren’t they, whore?” You tease and spit down around her tight ring before pressing a thumb against her hole, rubbing it. She whines at that excitedly but can’t push her ass back against you with how tight the restraints are. She’s just spread wide for you, so wet and ready to take you. You decide that her ass is yours to claim another day. You’d rather stretch her pussy out. Without another thought, you rub your strap through her folds, coating it with her wetness. “You really are a fucktoy. This pussy is on autopilot, always ready the second my cock touches you. You’re fucking dripping.” You groan out and push the head in, smirking through the mirror as Wanda cries out at the feeling. You grab a fistful of her hair, pulling her head back a little to give her a sneak peak of her marked neck. “Mine.” You growl out.

“Yours.” She whimpers in response and screams as you thrust your hips forward, not caring about the adjustment. She lets out ragged breaths, desperate moans and cries as you thrust into her at a steady pace, stretching her pussy around your cock. Wanda lets out a broken sob and you drop her head and grip her ass cheeks instead, digging your fingers into her skin. You pound into her at a ruthless pace, moaning at the sinful sounds of skin slapping against skin, her pussy squelching with each thrust.

Wanda can do nothing but stare at herself in the mirror as she lets out involuntary moans with each thrust, whimpering and whining as you stretch her and fuck her deeper than you ever have before. This is exactly what she needed; to be put in her place. She’d been acting like a brat for the entirety of your relationship. She’s overpowered in the outside world, and this degradation is exactly what she needs for that balance. She’s yours and you’ve made sure she knows it.

“Just a hole, Mistress.” Wanda pants out, drool falling onto the pillow. She can barely moan at this point, barely breathing as you fuck the wind out of her, pushing her forward with each thrust. “Yours, Mistress.” She breathes out, chanting her submission over and over again.

“That’s fucking right, bitch. My fucking whore. My hole. My fucktoy. You belong to me.” You pound into her harder, spanking her ass with each thrust. You reach over to the Wand you threw here and turn it on. Wanda immediately lets out mewls at the sound, already sobbing at the torture she’s about to receive. You position it under her, pressing it against her clit, immediately getting a response as she moans at the pressure.

“This pussy takes my cock so fucking well. Look at that, you’re still fucking tight. This pussy was made to be ruined by me.” You tug her hair again, pulling until her back is arched this time. You shove your fingers into her mouth and the other hand around her throat, using that as leverage to thrust your cock into her faster and harder. She swirls her tongue around your fingers obediently, spit streaming down her chest and stomach. You look into her eyes through the mirror, smirking at her, loving the submission in her eyes. Suddenly something clicks in her and Wanda freezes her movements, eyes turning hazy staring into your own. 

You take ultimate control in that moment, knowing she’s reached subspace and you’re obliged to know exactly what she needs. You take your hand out of her mouth and link it with the other around her neck. She lets out pants as she glances over her marked and bruised body. She's yours, completely and consumingly yours.

“Look at yourself. Look at how pretty my whore looks with my marks all over her. You wanna cum? Cum all over my cock, baby.” Wanda barely nods, just moaning in response, whimpering in desperation as tears freely fall down her face. Your nails scratch her neck as you pound harder until you can't move your hips anymore. Her pussy walls clench around your cock impossibly tight as her eyes roll to the back of her head and her mouth hangs open. Her face turns red as she falls over the edge, body twitching in overwhelming pleasure. You slow your thrusts to let her ride her high, dropping her down. Her face presses against the floor and she lets out a loud, raw, long, whorish moan, drool spilling onto the floor. You lean down over her, pressing your bodies together and kiss her neck softly, soothingly. Your hands work the ropes quickly loosening them.

“I-I-” She chokes out, cumming again, harder, not being able to stop herself. You shush her and keep loosening the ropes until you can pull them off and free her body. She falls limp, body shaking, letting out silent cries as you keep the vibrator against her pussy. You speed up your thrusts and ease her into another orgasm, pounding into her hard until she lets out a final dazed cry before her eyes start fluttering. You quickly pull out with a loud squelch, pushing the vibrator away from her.

“It’s okay, princess. I got you, my love, you’re okay.” You soothe her with gentle words and soft touches, pulling her into your arms tightly. You stay like that for a while, on top of her, kissing the back of her neck, fingers rubbing soft circles against her stomach. You wait until your girlfriend sighs contentedly to let you know she’s okay. You stand up and lift her up into your arms, laying her down in bed. She whines and whimpers when you turn to walk away. “Hey, I’m right here. I’m not leaving, angel, I just need to get you some water, okay? You want a snack too?” She nods at you, too tired to speak. You give her a quick peck and put on a robe before rushing out of the room to the kitchen. You come back as fast as you can with two bottles of water and a large chocolate bar to share. 

You come back to a pouty Wanda with tears in her eyes and immediately speed over to her, placing the water and chocolate on the nightstand. You climb into bed and get in behind her, pulling her into your arms. She breaks out into a sob as you kiss her neck and soothingly hum into her ear.

“You’re okay, my sweet girl. You were so good for me today. You did so well, Wan, I’m proud of you. I got you, baby, you’re okay with me.” You whisper gently, hands caressing her stomach. Her sobs calm down a little and turn into sniffles.

“I-I’m sorry. For the mission.” She manages to gasp out between her deep breathes.

“I forgive you, my love. You know I just want you to be safe, right?” Wanda moves a little and you know she wants to face you so you help her turn in your arms until you’re met with her soft green eyes. She’s never looked more beautiful. “Can you do that for me, princess?” She nods and leans in to brush her nose against yours, craving that intimacy. “You can sleep after you eat a little. How does that sound?” She shakes her head with a pout, whimpering again and you quickly kiss the pout away. “Wanna watch something? Sitcom?” She shows the smallest hint of a smile at that and you sigh out in relief, kissing her forehead before reaching behind her to grab the water and chocolate. 

Needless to say she never brought up the power argument ever again; you both know who has the power.

[shotorozu]

polyamory headcanons

(bakudeku x reader)

character(s) : bakugou katsuki, midoriya izuku (bnha)

legend : [Y/N = your name] they/them pronouns used, strong quirk (not specific)

headcanon type : all of them minus the extreme angst (x reader)

note(s) : i have another platonic class 1-a post coming right up! and another lengthy post,, theres no editing with this whdnwks

»»————-　♡　————-««

how it came to be

so this entire thing practically began even before bakugou realized his feelings for you (i’ll explain in a bit)

midoriya KNEW there was something going on, as soon as he met you he just didn’t know what it was. and he eventually realized his feelings for you when the dekusquad made him realize after being in denial

meanwhile, bakugou was never going to admit that he, bakugou katsuki— was crushing on what was an ‘extra’ to him

i wouldn’t really say you’re an extra really, because your quirk is so impressive to the both of them, labelling you as an extra would be dumb.

the dekusquad urged him to just make his move, while bakugou was still stuck in his denial stage (much to the bakusquad’s dismay)

midoriya was the first one to express his interest, asking you questions ranging from your quirk, to basically anything about yourself.

and bakugou had to sit through all of it in silence because he just had to sit right infront of you two

eventually— it became too much, because a big confrontation sparked between the two, with bakugou asking what the hell he was doing with you

and around this time, midoriya wasn’t so ‘scared’ of bakugou anymore. i mean, there’s still respect going around— but he won’t allow himself to be beat up anymore!

“if you like Y/N, why don’t you make a move, kacchan?”

it’s very competitive— a lot more than before. bakugou finally started to make his move, forcing offering you to spar with him, and making you food.

and midoriya only continued to make advances (the bakusquad and the dekusquad were in shambles just watching the three of you)

and that’s where you’re stuck between 2 choices. it’s hard because you like the both of them! they’re amazing in their own way

to stop the bickering, you proposed a polyamory— to satisfy all sides of the story. izuku immediately agree, and while bakugou HATED the idea, it was better than not having you at all

as long as izuku’s willing to share, then he won’t be so opposed to it. he’s in for it for you

everyone was so shocked when it was revealed that you three were DATING

hugs

you’re always in the middle, this isn’t very surprising.

katsuki always wants you to be in his bear hug, and midoriya would be content with just spooning you.

it’s so hot when it comes to cuddling, and no, not in that way. i mean— katsuki’s body heat is just TOO MUCH

so, y’all just ditch the damn blanket, y’all have katsuki anyway.

katsuki’s arms will be hooked around your waist— his head placed on the crook of your neck.

meanwhile izuku held your hand, his legs sprawled on top of yours— his head laying on your chest.

also, there will be a lot of kicking 💀

but, you do occasionally let katsuki be in the middle when it’s especially colder. you don’t want izuku to be cold too.

kisses

similar to my todomomo x reader post, the three of you find each other doing that classical kiss— where two people kiss your cheek at the same time (on opposite sides)

katsuki’s lips are warm, pretty soft. not at all flakey— and izuku’s lips are a little bit on the drier side, but they’re pretty smooth.

because izuku has a lot of scars on his hands, you’ll take your time with kissing each scar— meanwhile, katsuki traces the scars on his free hand

you and izuku love kissing katsuki’s cheekbones. he says he absolutely hates it when you both do it without warning, but he can’t help but anticipate it— every time you both go near his face

katsuki and izuku love to hold contests on who can fluster you the most— and who can kiss you the longest :))

how you guys spend time

if there’s something you can all agree on— it’s that katsuki’s cooking is the best.

cooking sessions are a staple of your relationship

y’all tend to close your eyes, and just pick a random recipe— so that you can try to make it, even if katsuki doesn’t like the food

he’ll still make it, because his ego gets fed whenever he sees you and izuku watch him cook intensely

there were plenty of times where y’all almost burned down the kitchen while trying to make wagyu beef

but it is pretty fun to hear katsuki’s food commentary, which is usually rare— since he loves to cook in silence

comfort

you basically have 2 guard dogs with you. they’re so protective— anyone that messes with you won’t see the light of day

if you get hurt during training, they’ll freak the fuck out— debating if they should drag you to recovery girl, or if they should patch you up themselves

katsuki would make izuku run to the medkit, and katsuki would take a look at any injuries— massaging any sore muscles

we all know katsuki is shit at words, especially when it comes to reassurance and panic attacks (if ever) but that’s why izuku’s here

he knows exactly what to do (excluding the first time) and he knows exactly what to say, but that doesn’t mean katsuki is useless

he’ll pull you close against his chest, softly rocking you back and forth— wiping any tears that cascade down your cheeks, caressing your arms up and down

if izuku felt terrible, you’ll distract him by keeping you close— while katsuki RAN to get the all might documentary izuku wouldn’t stop watching, and a few blankets

y’all don’t need blankets but, it’s helpful in situations like this

if katsuki was feeling down, you and izuku would allow him to vent, getting everything out in his system— as the both of you sat right next to him, comforting him in silence

overall (and additional things)

it’s a big rollercoaster

they’re the best boyfriends you’ll ever have, despite the initial tension.

of course, there will be fights here and there— due to katsuki and izuku’s clashing personalities (and competitiveness)

but you’re also the mediator for the both of them, technically a middle point. something that’d get them to get along for once

the entire relationship is so powerful?? like,, wow. you must be hella hot AND special if you’re dating izuku and katsuki.

the chemistry is good though— you all tend to agree on one thing for sure, it’s that none of you would have it differently,

because it’s three or none in this house

overall? 10/10.

»»————-　♡　————-««

likes and reblogs are appreciated, thanks for reading!

i do not own bnha/mha and it’s characters. boku no hero academia/my hero academia belongs to horikoshi kohei, i only own the writing and i do not profit off of my hobby

do not plagiarize, reupload, translate, or use my works for audio readings without permission

[inactiive]

HI CAB YOU DO MORE SUB!RON WITH READER THAT HAS AN INNOCENT / CORRUPTION KINK PLEASE? PLEASEE??!!&2&&@3@

ron weasley x reader

summary: you take ron’s virginity.

warnings: innocence/corruption kink, sub!ron, dom!reader, sex, message me if i need to add anything else!

author’s note: i’m so sorry this took so long love! but, i’m finished up with exams so expect me to be posting more xx

“happy birthday ronnie!” you exclaimed to your boyfriend and gave him a wet kiss on the cheek. the crowd of people around him made heat explore his cheeks. 

today was ron weasley’s 18th birthday and you more than excited. you wanted nothing more than to celebrate the beautiful man in front of you. currently, you were serving cake to everyone in the gryffindor common room while they enjoyed ron’s surprise party. 

after hours of dancing and eating more cake than you could ever imagine, you were found lazily kissing ron in his dorm room. you practically begged his dorm mates to stay out for at least a couple hours. of course, it costed you a few galleons. maybe more. 

your lips started trailing down his neck and you felt his skin grow warmer. you brushed your lips against the sensitive just beneath his ear. ron’s breathing started to become more apparent. “can i stay the night? if you want me to.”

he pulled away from you instantly, with wide eyes. you though it was quite adorable, actually. “you want to stay with me? and sleep with me in my bed?” he whispered.

you hummed. “i didn’t mean it like that, ron. i meant just, you know, sleeping.” you paused, before continuing. “i don’t have to stay if you don’t want me to, you know that, right?”

you knew ron was a virgin. and you weren’t implying that you wanted to have sex with him. but, if he wanted to you would be nothing but happy to comply. he shook his head at your response. “no! i would love for you to stay the night. but, we don’t have to just..” he paused and looked away. “..just sleep.”

“are you saying-” you started.

“yes, merlin, i want to have s-sex with you.” ron quickly replied. 

“you can trust me alright, sweetheart? i promise i’ll go slow with you.” you said to him softly. he kissed you once more before releasing a plethora of i love yous.

you stood at the front of the bed, while letting your dress fall off of your body. you were left with your lace bra and knickers. ron let his eyes gaze down to your chest and eventually to the cloth hiding your cunt. his hand slowly reached out to yours, and you guided to cup your breast. you gently reached down to his tie, and. fumbled while trying to remove it. once his he was stripped down to nothing but his boxers, you couldn’t help but stare. 

cheeks flushed and hair all wild, splayed out on his bed. how could i get this bloody lucky? you thought to yourself. after another reassurance from ron, your hands slipped on the ends of his boxers and you slid them down his thighs. his cock sprung up and shit. he was big. debating on whether you should prep yourself before, you decided not to. although, you would resent yourself for making that decision tomorrow morning. 

you stripped down until you were naked and straddled his waist. as you aligned your cunt with his cock and slowly slid down. simultaneously, you both gasped and he grabbed onto your waist. ron groaned loudly “oh fuck-” you felt utter bliss as he was buried deep inside of you. 

“k-keep going, please.” you followed his request and lifted yourself up once more, sinking back down onto him. eventually, your speed increased, but it wasn’t enough for ron. feeling your walls wrapped around you made him want more. he needed more.

“faster, y/n, oh godric- please.” he pleaded again and who were you to deny him? with his hips tilted, you thrusted down into you with more force. ron’s hips were snapping into yours and sparks of pleasure flowed throughout his body. every time you moved, he was induced with a state of euphoria. dropping towards his chest, you nipped on his collarbone while grinding up and down. 

for a brief moment, you two shared eye contact with each other. his eyes were fogged with lust and love all at the same time. his moans came out in small pants and he couldn’t refrain himself from vocalizing how good he felt. 

when you felt him twitch inside of you, you knew he was almost there. “are you close, baby?” he nodded while trying to thrust up into you. 

you guided his hand to press a thumb onto your clit, making you throw your head back. it was almost too much for you. the sensation of ron inside of you and the pressure on your clit was taking you to the edge. for a moment, ron’s insides were locked tight, before breaking apart. he swore loudly before his eyes shut tightly and he moaned your name. his cum spilled inside of you and mixed with yours after you thrusted once more. he was sobbing your name as he felt an orgasm rush through him. 

you floated back down to earth, trying to relax your muscles. you looked down at ron who seemed too lost in his own world. you lowered your chest to his and kissed his forehead. “anyone home?”

sheepishly, he smiled back up at you and guided you off of him. quietly, you whimpered at the loss of him. “are you alright, ron?”

“i’m more than okay- blimely- stay the night with me, please?”

you snorted. “what made you think i was going to leave right after.” you cupped his cheek in your hands.

“i’m in for the long run ronnie. you’re never getting rid of me.”

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[junhuiste]

break the code (ex-wip)

pairing: soonyoung x fem!reader

wc: 1900

tags/warning: basketball!soonyoung, college au, slightly suggestive language, cursing

a/n: this was something i started way back in 2017 when i was 15 lol and i tried going back to it and finishing but i just can’t seem to continue it!! but i don’t want it to just sit in my drafts so i’m just going to post the unfinished wip! i might do this with a lot of wips i’ve had collecting dust over the years (and they’re like 99% svt lol); if i ever do find some stroke of inspo to finish it i might but for now enjoy the 1900 words i wrote when i was a sophomore

“But babe, you’ll sit on my side, right?” Soonyoung continued to pester you with countless little questions to which he knew the exact answers to.

You pursed your lips at your boyfriend; mild sorrow and guilt clouded your eyes. In return he pout your favorite pair of plush pillows to kiss, with dull bleakness and dismals fogging his irises. It was hard, really, to resist the pull of a magnet, who was trying every trick in the book to coerce you to sit on his school’s side of the bleachers for the upcoming basketball game on Friday.

Had it been that both of you were just your run-of-the-mill university couple, tachycardia would’ve caused you to blurt out “yes” instantaneously just by being gazed upon by Soonyoung, but alas, the big guy upstairs made it to be so that you technically couldn’t through the rulebook of the sibling code.

A flushed palm extended to your denim-covered thighs, with the utmost desire lacing his fingers.

“Pretty please? With a cherry on top?” His digits creeped towards your inner thigh, getting closer to the actual cherry he wanted on top.

“Soonyoung, no matter how well you do me, I’m still obligated to sit on my side of the bleachers.”

None of Soonyoung’s coercions could persuade you to decide about where to sit. You really would’ve preferred to sit on his side, but with your current situation, none of that was possible. It was a precarious oscillation between blood and water, and neither did you want to drown in with regret for embracing one over another.

“Fine. If you can’t cheer me on–which is a pitiful shame–let me take you out to eat after the game. And we can make out in my car or something so he won’t have to know.” Soonyoung’s gaze no longer held flashes of fervor, but rather a decadent gleam of sheer admiration.

“It’s a done deal, but you better promise me to dunk on him, or be prepared to get dunked on by him. As of right now, however, you owe me some kisses for making me wobble continuously back and forth between your side and his before I go,” you taunted, “come here you little rascal.”

Soonyoung gleamed at you piercingly, yielding you to lean forward against him as a shock of joy sparked up your back. His hand feathered along the back of your thigh, brushing it so longingly, with a tinge of impertinence here and there. You could feel the urgency radiating from him as he struggled to press you even closer to him, as there were no more gaps to be filled. He grasped your chin gingerly, before connecting his lips with yours, wanting to revel in dire coalescence he’d been awaiting upon your arrival.

Soonyoung is the warm bath you dip yourself into after constant exhaustion, the meager yet compelling and needed breeze as the sun beats down you, the red mark that’s actually relieving and boasts “A+” on a hard worked assignment, the last basket shot as the clock dashes away with the snickering seconds, and he is what has you torn on where your loyalty stands, but you can’t thank him enough for that strife.

You pulled away first because getting you two to separate would be a long ass haul, and maybe it was also getting late, just maybe. Your eyes glimpsed at the badgering hands that indicated 11:35 PM, and nothing but a sullen sigh managed to escape your lips.

It wasn’t fair, how time sashayed away, but there were no seconds left to spare to sulk about it, so you caressed the tranquility Soonyoung’s face possessed and left a lingering peck upon it. Knowing him, you’d expected him to grip your waist and pull you down with him into the waters of his joyous yet yearning ways but the coal haired boy enveloped you in an enticing embrace and with his lips hovering slightly above your ear, whispered, “Tell him to get ready.”

“I swear to God, I hate basketball,” your brother exhaled out in utter annoyance, to which you furrowed your brows at.

You always shifted in your seat restlessly, your heart palpitating at an ungodly speed of McQueen, eyes sought frantically to avoid meeting your brother’s, upon the dreaded word of “basketball” ringing in your ears. It wasn’t that you abhorred it, no, not at all; you absolutely appreciated the art of dunking and the pleasing note of swish through the hoop, but just not the people you knew personally who partook in it.

There’s always a Montague and Capulet narrative happening somewhere in the universe, always, and it just so happened that you were struck with the curse by some godforsaken entity of destiny of landing a role in your life as the fresh faced, ever so naive, youngest member of the Capulets–Juliet. And you dreaded the direction your supposed fairytale was headed the first time your boyfriend asked you to watch his basketball game, which oddly enough, was the same one your brother requested you to “bring all your hot friends” to.

As strange as it sounded, it wasn’t your brother’s undeniable libido for your friends that irked you and made you hesitate going to a basketball game, to which you’ve never thought twice about before, but it was the statement of, “God I am going to crush number 10’s ass.”

Number 10. Number fucking 10. Of course, it had to be the player that sweat through blue polyester and nylon, donning number 10 in white on the front and back. It could have been player number 13 or 17, for God’s sake it could have even been a negative number sported on the jersey, yet it all had to align in the cosmos to be player number 10.

You didn’t certainly deem ESP to be something legitimate, but on that day you swore to god your mind fucked you royally in the ass and placed you in Soonyoung’s dorm room the night before. It was nothing out of the ordinary, really, nothing but the sight of a teenage boy’s niche, because a lot of basketball players had to have chosen the number 10 for their jersey, right?

The environment malfunctioned instantaneously with the repetition of “I am going to crush number 10’s ass” circling about a short circuit in your mind. From that moment onward, the sight of the jersey was unquestionably more radiant that it could have ever been, with the blinding, white number ten atop Soonyoung’s chair cackling obstreperously at your oh shit moment. Tuning in to your brother slander your university’s rival, Soonyoung’s school, was always such a joy (not) to participate in.

Every “basketball” here and there snagged you by the ear and dragged you to hell and back with it, provoking the cracks of your palm to drench in sweat and legs to quiver more than you had felt around Soonyoung before dating him.

“Yeah I mean it’s not like you’ve worked your entire ass off the past 4 years or so to even set foot on the college court you've been dreaming of since you were 13!” Diverting your brother’s mental debate on his love of the sport, it was a necessity to pluck something else from thin air to talk about, and not your school’s rival when they had games against each other, which was seemingly a bloodbath in their perspective.

Trying to escape your brother’s trash talk of Soonyoung’s team was walking through an eternal, pitch black, underground tunnel, no goddamn escape.

“They only got us last time because of number 10’s foolery. Jesus Christ, the kid better slow down or he’s wasting stamina. Can’t believe he holds the title of captain, like me. I motherfucking swear to God if I have to listen to his loud ass winning chant–” yadah yadah, number 10 this, number 10 that.

You would have dozed off to your brother’s lovely lullaby of scorn towards your boyfriend had it not been for a text…from your boyfriend.

[spoonyoung]

hii hiiiii heyyyy hello bby Hhhii babe i miss youuuuu hi!

[y/n]

i can tell u’re tired :( don’t be

[spoonyoung]

he's going to crush me dang flabbit

y/n

so ur nervous ??? bby it’s just a game istg,,both of you treat it like warfare

[incoming call: spoonyoung]

Shit, what the hell? This bitch, right now? In this economy, at this time?

Inside your chest was a drumline pounding, giving it their all, threatening to burst out and announce to your brother that “Hey, your rival is dating your sister! They’re probably going to fuck later but you don’t know about any of it!”

You would plummet into poignancy if you didn’t pick up his call, because there was no chance you could see him everyday, so honestly fuck that you guys attended different schools, and resorting to calling each other did bring both of you to ease, but not at this goddamn, forsaken time, with one you love phoning you with 17,000 vibrations per second, and the other idiot you were practically forced to love, perched next to you, indignantly gripping the wheel with such force you couldn’t decide which one generated more turbulence within you.

Tensely clutching what was now a scorching piece of metal, you held it up conscientiously to your ear, and forced yourself to breathe out calmly and collectively. Every single mention, tidbit and strand, bob and fragment of Soonyoung that was mentioned around you when you were with your brother grabbed your trachea in its firm hold and forced the wind out of you.

“Hey, Hoshi,” you managed to choke out in a level headed manner.

Hoshi. That was what you and Soonyoung agreed to nickname him if you ever picked up a call from him around your brother or his teammates, but god forbid you were actually allowed to have a life of any sort!

“Babe,” Soonyoung mewled out from the other line, “I actually can’t do this. Don’t tell him, but your brother is really good...of course he is.”

Frowning because of Soonyoung’s lack of usual mirth and brimming confidence, you sighed, “If you let it get to you, then your thoughts affect your actions, and you don’t want that to happen right? You’ll be fine...and I’m not just saying this to say something, but you’re really good too, and you can’t let one person bring your entire mood down...even if...you know…”

“Will you at least come with me to my dorm after the game?”

“Oh you know I’ll be doing more than that,” giggling into your phone, trying to sound as enticing as possible, completely engrossed in this very conversation, as it was all the time talking with Soonyoung.

Both of you had a habit of drastically turning your talks from upside downs to those of obvious elation. They were conversations sometimes needed to be kept in the comforting privacy, selfishly not wanting to let anyone else in on the baby i missed you’s and the do you need anything from the boba shop’s and literally you don’t have the right to look this good’s.

Startled by the grunting and hacking oh so wonderfully expired by the total jackass to your left, you contended to the third degree, with the patience that was never really there starting to thin out, “Do you need something?”

It wasn’t uncommon for Soonyoung to call coincidentally at the times you were with—more like right next to—his rival, probably because his

[hockeylvr59]

Secret Love Part 5 || Cale Makar

Requested: [ ] yes [x] no

Authors Note: So I was supposed to post this yesterday, but it was not a good day for me mentally and I just didn’t really get online. So it’s a day late but I think this is a chapter that will have you all freaking out so I hope you enjoy it. 

Warnings: cursing, PG-13 sexual activities. 

Word Count: 1,911

~~~~

Waking up wrapped in Cale’s arms was a shock to your system but one that made you feel warm and safe. The competing mindsets made you gasp, and for a moment you feared you’d woken Cale. Instead, he just tightened his grip on your body, forcing you to snuggle even further into his mostly naked figure. 

As you laid in his arms, your body became attuned to the feeling of his breath on your neck, the way the muscles in his arms twitched, and the solid length of him pressed against you in more ways than one. Heat flooded your core at the feeling of his dick pressed against your ass and you cursed yourself, carefully trying to extricate yourself from his arms. 

Tiptoeing out of his room, you grabbed a pair of leggings from your bag along with a sweater and clean undergarments. Though you debated just changing, you did need to shower so you snuck back through Cale’s room into the bathroom, praying that the sound of the water didn’t disturb him. 

With the heated spray working to alleviate the aches from dancing last night, you rubbed your temples trying to figure out what the hell had happened last night. Okay so you knew what had happened, you weren’t drunk, but you couldn’t figure out why it had happened. Were things actually different between you and Cale or were you just imagining it? He’d just been screwed over hard by his girlfriend of almost three years and you were someone he knew he could trust. That had to explain the increased affection right? 

A knock on the door interrupted your thoughts. Cale popped his head in to ask if you were almost done and you called back that you just needed another minute or two. Rushing through the rest of your shower, you quickly dried off and got dressed before slipping out of the bathroom. 

“It’s all yours!” You called to Cale as you retreated to the couch. You prayed that you had some plans for the day because otherwise you might actually drive yourself crazy. 

Thankfully Laura and Gary came through, and for the next two days you ran around Denver, all of the sights and sounds providing the exact distraction that you needed. By the end of the day you were exhausted and you quickly passed out on the couch with only minimal conversation with Cale. 

On your final day in Denver, Cale played an afternoon game, an upsetting loss in overtime. Gary and Laura wanted to go to a brewery after the game, but that really wasn’t your thing so Cale suggested you just have a relaxing night watching tv in his apartment instead. He’d ordered takeout, and the two of you had sprawled across his couch with reruns of some sitcom playing in the background. 

After dinner he’d suggested opening a bottle of wine and snuggled beside him under his new blanket, one glass became two and two became three. Soon the two of you were working on finishing off your second bottle and you’d reached the point where every nerve ending in your body was humming. 

“You know...we haven’t spent this much time together since...well honestly I can’t remember when…” Cale murmured against your head. “It’s been really nice.” He added. 

“Yeah you’re not so bad to hang out with.” You teased, pressing the side of your face into his shoulder. It still amazed you sometimes that while you were four and a half years older, he was just so much bigger than you in every way. It made you feel safe and with the wine swirling around your brain it made you wonder what it would be like to have him on top of you, pressing you into the mattress. 

You didn’t have to wait long to sort of find out, with your mind off on a tangent you missed Cale trying to get your attention until his fingers were digging into your sides, tickling you as a shrill squeal left your throat. Somehow he’d ended up hovering over you on the couch as you squirmed away from him and the way his blue eyes stared down at you made you freeze. What felt like cracks of electricity passed between you, until finally Cale let out a long sigh and climbed off of you, tucking you back into his side. 

Though nothing had happened, it felt like everything between the two of you had shifted. 

“Am I crazy?” Cale mumbled eventually. 

“I mean you do play a sport where you’re getting hit by 200 pound guys into boards every few nights…” You cheekily replied, trying to cover the way your heart was pounding by making light of his words. 

“Y/N…” Cale grumbled, his fingers coming up to run through his hair. “That’s not what I mean and you know it.” He sighed. “Tell me I’m not crazy. Tell me that you feel this too.” Swallowing hard, you ran your fingers through your hair as well. 

“You’re not crazy.” You spoke, your tone hushed. As he shifted to look at you, you dropped your gaze to your lap. Quickly, his fingers moved to lift your chin, forcing you to look at him. His expression was hopeful but his eyes gave way to the fear and confusion you were also feeling. 

“There’s a spark.” He sounded so sure of himself with that statement that you couldn’t tear your eyes away from him. “I’ve never felt that with anyone else.” His fingers trailed from your jaw to tangle in your hair, his thumb brushing over your cheek. “How have I never noticed this before...you before?” You didn’t have an answer to that, instead, you just shivered at the way he was touching you, like you were the most precious thing on the planet. 

“Come ‘ere.” His request was merely a formality because he was already pulling you into his lap as he spoke it. With your hips now straddling his, you watched as his fingers traced patterns down your arms before he laced his fingers with yours. “Is this okay?” He asked after a moment, genuine concern for your comfort dripping from his words. 

“Yes.” You agreed as your pulse slammed through your veins even harder than before. 

“Shit.” Cale groaned after a moment, the sound of it sending heat to your core. “I always thought this was just some silly cliche teenage crush.” Your eyes went wide at his words and your body tensed slightly, though Cale picked up on both immediately. “You know, falling for your best friend who is too old and too beautiful to ever want anything to do with a kid. Not that you’re too old now...but a few years ago…” You nodded because you knew what he was trying to say. When he was 15, you were by all societal standards too old for him to even consider there being something there; but now...21 (almost 22) and 26 was a different ball game. 

“For years I wished it was just a teenage crush…” You breathed. 

“You….?” Cale didn’t need to verbalize the question for you to understand what he was asking and letting down your guard fully you nodded. 

“I got really good at pretending.” You admitted. For a moment Cale’s eyes grazed over your lips as his hands moved to tug your hips against his. Then his eyes met yours, and seeing no sign of rejection, he tangled a hand in your hair before pulling your mouth onto his. 

As you kissed him back, you slid your own hand around his neck, securing his body to your own. He tasted like the wine you’d been drinking all night and suddenly you just felt warm from head to toe. The kiss started gently but deepened until you were both left breathing heavily upon parting. 

“Shit...can we do that again?” He mumbled, the look in his eyes sending another chill through your body in excitement. Kissing him again, you took the time to explore all of the feelings that just kissing him created. His hands ran up and down your back while yours locked onto his shoulders. Every so often, your hips would rock against his and he’d moan, ratcheting the kiss up another level. It wasn’t long before you felt him grow hard between your bodies and though you didn’t want to, you forced yourself to pull away. 

“Killing me…” Cale grumbled, his head thrown against the back of the couch as he stared at you with blown pupils and swollen lips. 

“You’ve been killing me all week with those wandering hands of yours.” You replied. “Not to mention dragging me to bed with you almost nude the other night.” Cale’s eyes went wide and you realized that he didn’t remember that at all. “What’s the last thing you remember at the bar the other night?” You asked, giggling softly. 

“I remember watching Gravy walk over to you at the bar…” He mentioned, the flush on his cheeks growing rosier again. 

“So you don’t remember dancing with me? The question you asked me?” Cale shook his head and you felt your own cheeks heat up. 

“What did I say?” He sighed, fingers running back through his hair. 

“You uh...you asked me if women like receiving oral because Sara never let you try…” You felt Cale’s groan through your entire body, the sound of it only serving to turn you on. “And then once I got you home, I sent you to get ready for bed while I got you water and pain meds and next thing I know you’re pulling me into bed with you and you wouldn’t let me go.” Cale’s head hit your shoulder as he mumbled out an apology. 

“It was a little awkward but it’s okay.” You assured him, nails scraping over the back of his neck. “It was more awkward waking up to your morning wood.” You teased, giggling until suddenly you were flat on your back once more, Cale’s length still pressing against you. 

“You mean this?” He growled softly, his hips rocking against yours. You gasped at the feeling and at how forward Cale was being. You didn’t know this side of him but you were quickly growing to like it. “This is all because of you. All you have to do is bite your lip or scrape your nails against the back of my neck and just like that I’m hard as a rock.” Cale’s lips dropped to press light kisses against your neck. “Fuck.” He breathed, clearly trying to settle his own body. “It’s never been this easy.” Pocketing that statement in the back of your mind for a later conversation, you eased his mouth back to yours, kissing him gently. 

“Our timing kinda sucks you know…” You sighed, your thumbs brushing over his red cheeks. 

“I know…” He agreed, climbing off of you. 

“Can we just...I just...kiss me and we can worry about everything else later?” You pleaded. Cale’s mouth slanted over yours in compliance and you stayed that way, sharing lazy kisses, until long after the sun had set. As you dozed against him, Cale carried you to his bed, wrapping you in his arms. There wasn’t enough time to explore everything he wanted to with you, but he was going to make the most of what time you did have, whispered promises of summer spilling from his lips. 

[matchacloudz]

Open the Door

Prompt: please open the door

Fandom: Hemlock Grove

Character: Roman Godfrey

Word count: 2159

High school is supposed to be the best four years of a teenager’s life. So far; it’s a load of shit. Having a dad in the navy isn’t the easiest thing ever. In my 17 years of life, I’ve had the privilege of moving 6 times to different states. The longest place ever being Oregon, and my favourite. Only one more year until I can move out and be in my own place, living wherever I choose, for however long I choose.

2 years ago we moved to Pennsylvania, and it quickly felt like home. The aesthetic was perfect, the weather was perfect, and for once, I had friends I felt like I could trust. Moving place to place, I found it useless to make friends; keeping the ones I would meet online, never staying long enough to make friends in person. That’s not how Roman saw it however; I still genuinely don’t know if he wanted to keep me close to keep me quiet or if he wanted to be friends.

Whatever the case, we didn’t stay the same; I was quick to discover he was protective over those he gets close to. May be from losing people in the past or just how he was brought up and how he is with Shelly.  After saving my life the first time, there was something between us that quickly sparked. Long story short, he’s been my first boyfriend and I would not change anything for the world.

-

School that day was going by as usual, Roman came to pick me up, we got coffee and were in the parking lot smoking before school started. “What’s on your mind?” He asked, pulling me from a trance, but I just shrugged �� not wanting to get into it this early in the morning. “Y/N, I know when you’re lying” but once again I shrugged.

This was the longest my family has ever stayed in one place; we always moved around just to be closer to my father, and it was usually around this time of year that we got news whether or not he would be relocated. I couldn’t say goodbye to this place; Hemlock Grove quickly became my home, no matter how dreary things got or how intense my life would become. I wasn’t ready to give this up. My anxiety was quickly rising, but I didn’t want to bother him with my family issues.

Roman turned to me, his hand on my exposed thigh and looked in my eyes. He always managed to calm me down and get me to start talking but I don’t know if I could tell him this time, I didn’t want to get him in a mood before I knew if anything was happening. Looking anywhere but my boyfriend, I saw it was 8:30 and we had 5 minutes to get to class. “Look, I don’t know if anything is happening, maybe I’m just having a rough day. Anyway, we have five minutes,” and without looking back, I grabbed my stuff and rushed towards the door.

-

All day, I could feel Roman staring at me. I wanted to look at him, give him some peace of mind – but I knew if I do that, I would start crying. I feel like I can’t leave, this is the one place I have ever lived that made me feel lucky. I had friends, I had a boyfriend, hell, I was supposed to be graduating at the end of the semester – I feel like I can’t let that go, but I had no power whether we moved or not. I’m still a minor, and my mom is legally allowed to drag me everywhere with her.

During lunch I decided to take a walk, try to clear my head and be fresh for the afternoon. Numerous calls and texts from my friends almost prompted me to turn my phone off until I got the one text I have been dreading all day.

We need to talk when you get home                                                                                                            

                                                                               -mama

Tears immediately brimmed my eyes, I couldn’t do it. I can’t leave this place, I’ve built too many things, had too many memories for it to be taken way from me in just two years.

After little debate, I decided I was done with school. It felt as though my heart was slowly being torn in two. I hadn’t even gotten complete confirmation of what was happening or why she needed to talk to me, but it was like a yearly clock work. We are going to talk, she is going to break my heart and we are going to pack up to wherever is closer to dad’s new base.

Where are you?                -Rome

Y/N, come on

               -Rome

Class is starting, are you skipping?

                                               -Rome

I wasn’t feeling well, decided to walk home

                                                  -Y/N

Bullshit

               -Rome

☹

               -Y/N

With that, I turned on do not disturb and enjoyed my quiet walk home.

-

Every house I walked by, every tree I saw would just make me more sad; knowing these would be the final times I would see these places. The walk way up the house already confirmed what my mom hasn’t told me; a real estate agent hammering a brand new ‘For Sale’ sign up in the front yard. Tears welled in my eyes, but I quickly shook them away – at this point, I should be used to it.

“Y/N? Is that you?” My mom yelled as the door slammed behind me, no point in trying to hide it – she had already heard my entrance. “Hi” I say, trying not to show the crack in my voice. “It’s only 1, don’t you have class this afternoon?” I shrugged my shoulders, really, I just wanted this conversation to end. “Y/N?” She asked again, but I just shook my head and made my way up to my room. Seeing the collapsed cardboard boxes resting over the door just made more tears well into my eyes. I knew there was no stopping this and I had to agree with what was going on; whether I liked it or not.

 Roman

After a couple more texts and no answer from Y/N, I realized I wasn’t going to get anywhere. Glancing at the clock, I had 20 more minutes of class, but I was not in the mood to sit through it. Y/N made class a little more bearable to sit through, and I was losing my mind sitting here. She wasn’t answering, she had told me she wasn’t feeling well; but I had a hunch there was something else going on. “Mr. Godfrey, is there somewhere else you’d rather be?” The teacher asked after I ignored yet another question, so I looked at him. “Yeah, thanks for asking,” and with that, I grabbed my things and left; hearing protests, but not looking back.

I had one thing on my mind, and it wasn’t schoolwork.

-

Pulling up to Y/N’s house, I immediately found out why she had decided to skip the rest of the day; a large, bright ‘for sale’ sign was posted up in her front lawn. I felt my heart sink, she had told us about her father relocating every so often, but I didn’t think it would happen so soon after her moving here. I kept my eye on the sign, as if staring at it would make it disappear, but that’s not how the world works; it’s also not how being an Upir works, unfortunately.

Shrugging it off, I put my car in park and went to the front door. Looking up at her room, the blinds were drawn, and her windows were closed; she loves hearing and feeling the breeze, so I knew she was sad. My heart broke for her, and all I wanted to do was hold her and make sure she was feeling okay. “Roman! Haven’t seen you in a while” her mother greeted as she opened the door, I smiled gently and accepted her hug. “Sorry about that, things have been a little hectic lately. Uh, is Y/N here?” I asked. “She’s up in her room, I must tell you, she’s in a little bit of a mood,” with that, her mother was down the hallway; most likely going to keep packing.

Stalking up the stairs, I couldn’t help but get chills. Y/N was an emotional person, you can feel her emotions as soon as she steps foot into a room. Either being able to lighten it, and make everyone feel better or at ease, or bring down the room entirely. She is human but has no idea how truly powerful she is. At the top of the stairs, it felt as though a ghost had passed through my body. The entire floor was cold, freezing even, but as I looked around, all doors and windows were closed; the sun was shining outside, I knew this was entirely being brought on due to her mood.

Gingerly, I knocked on the door; not expecting an answer but expecting at least a sign of life. Besides hearing her little cries, it seemed as though the life had been sucked out of here. “Go away mom” she cried, making my heart break, she was clearly upset and it made me upset for her. “It’s me” I whispered, there was a moment of silence, before she turned on her bed – most likely shifting her back to door. “Go away” her voice cracked. Her voice was breaking, telling me she was trying not to cry, but it was no use. I gently tried pushing the door open, but it was no use – she had locked it. “Come on Y/N don’t do that. Please, open the door.”

However, there was no answer.

I knew she was hurting, but I had no idea what to do. “Please” I whispered, starting to feel defeat. Before meeting her, I would have never shown this much weakness to anyone, no matter how close I was with them. That was something about her though, she had so much power it was insane, she knew my strengths and she knew my weaknesses; and she was the main one.

Resting my forehead against the door, I wasn’t willing to give up. Y/N and I were both very stubborn people, she should know better than to assume I would have left.

I don’t know how much time had passed, but I had ended up sitting on the floor outside the door. I don’t care how long it would take, I would not be leaving until I was able to see her, and see how she was doing.  I heard movement from her room, and suddenly weight on the other side of the door. “You still there?” She asked, I let out a little smile, turning my head. “I’m still here” I say.

Suddenly, the lock clicked. I knew she had unlocked the door, but I didn’t want to do anything she didn’t want me to. The door had opened, making me stumble and fall back into her body, her arms catching me slightly. “You know, you’re supposed to be in my place” I mumbled, putting a hand on her arm that was around my shoulders. “Let me have this, please” she said.

I did as asked, not daring to move. I could sense how she was feeling, and I didn’t want to do anything to disrupt her peace in this moment.

It was quite a long time before she finally spoke, her cheek pressed against the top of my hair, our hands interlaced. It was a peaceful moment, and if this is all I could give her in moments like this, I would do it ten times over. “We’re moving” she said, tightening her grip on my hand, and I nodded my head – not quite sure what to say to that. “I don’t want to say goodbye Roman; I don’t think I can” her voice cracked for what seemed like the millionth time today, and it shattered my heart. I hate how this girl can do so much, without doing anything at all.

I sighed, trying to think of anything to calm her. I turned in her arms, letting my head rest on her chest. Her heart beating millions of miles an hour, she was anxious out of her mind. “Calm down sweetheart, okay? We’ll do something, I’ll make sure you don’t have to leave” I promised. “How can you Roman? There’s nothing we can do, I have to move, I have to make new friends and start everything over again” she said, moving the hair from my forehead. I couldn’t help but to smile, she was so naïve it was a little cute. “Trust me, you won’t have to. I won’t let you leave,” her pupils dilated at my words. “I promise” I whispered, leaning up to capture her lips in mine.  

[bangtan-sonyeonddaeng]

Part 3

Summary: Soulmates have different ways of being connected to one another. Sometimes it’s through being able to write on their arms and having it show up on their soulmates. For others it was having their first words spoken to one another permanently tattooed into their skin. You had a unique connection with yours, one that you really hadn’t ever heard of happening before. Whatever song was stuck in your soulmate’s head was also stuck in yours and the same was for them. When Yoongi realizes one of his songs is playing on repeat in your head, he immediately takes to writing songs to communicate with you in hopes it will finally bring you two together.

Genre: Fluff. Just pure tooth rotting, sweet fluff.

Part 1       Part 2     Part 4

Yoongi sat at the computer, mind blank as he stared at a rough draft of a song he had been writing for his mix tape. However he soon realized that he was going to have to completely scrap everything and start all over. The lyrics he had written to go with this melody didn’t suit the words he wanted to say to you at all. He’s been at the studio for well over an hour now, pen and notebook laying next to him as he tried to think of lyrics to write for you. 

“God this sucks. I can’t think of anything!” He sighs in frustration and brings his hands up to his face to rub his tired eyes. He’s about to give up and start fresh tomorrow when he hears another song begin to enter his mind.

Alright banbokdwen shisogeim

He smiles to himself as he realizes another one of his songs is stuck in your head. And begins to chuckle when he realizes you must not know too much Korean as most of the words are just jumbled while the melody plays in your head. Are his songs really that catchy? Or did you possibly feel a connection to him through his music? He pulls out his phone to call Hoseok for help.

“Yoongi! How’s the song writing going?”

“It’s absolute shit. I haven’t wrote anything yet. I was wondering if you could help me? Or at least help me sort through the rough drafts of these tracks I’ve already produced to help me find one that is catchy and will get stuck in their head so I know they heard me.” 

“Of course! I’d be happy to help.” 

They spend a good half hour in the studio going over the different beats and songs Yoongi had saved before Hoseok shouts excitedly. 

“That’s it! That’s the one. This is perfect. It’s catchy, but it’s also soft and I think will really show the emotions you’ve been feeling towards your soulmate. There’s a bit here where the melody turns a little more harsh and that’s where you could speak your feelings honestly, your fears about never getting to meet. But then maybe at the end make it clear that this song is for them as a way to communicate. I don’t know just some ideas-”

“Hoseok that’s brilliant. Thank you. I think I finally know where to go with this.” 

“You’re welcome! Don’t spend too much time here, make sure to rest!” 

“I’ll rest when the song is finished. You know me.” 

“Alright. But just take breaks every once in a while, yeah?”

“Sure Hobi, thank you.” 

Yoongi sits down with his notebook and begins scrawling lyrics on the page. He works through the night and by the time he’s finished he is beginning to see the sun rise over the horizon. He smiles and decides he’s going to post it now, not wanting to wait any longer and hoping you’re awake. He opens up their twitter and posts a link to his song on soundcloud. Immediately people are liking, retweeting, basically going nuts over Yoongi having released another solo song. He smiles to himself and continues scrolling through the replies, until he comes across one particular one that makes him stop. 

I don’t know if you’ll see this but I hear you. I’m listening to every word. 

It’s about 5:00 pm when a notification on your phone goes off that BTS has tweeted something new. You open it immediately, and see a link to a song. You are seriously excited when you see it’s a new song for Yoongi’s mixtape. You click on it, anxiously waiting for the page to load as a slew of army also try to access the song. After the website crashes a few more times it finally opens for you and you listen to a sweet, beautiful piano melody playing. When he starts singing, even though you aren’t fluent in his language you can feel his emotions and what he is saying through his words. The song sounds... hopeful. But then towards the middle begins to sound more dark, as if he’s doubting something. As if he has all of this uncertainty and is rapping out his frustrations. The song ends on a more upbeat note, and the very last line is in English and it sends sparks up your spine. 

 I don’t know if you’re listening, but this was for you. 

You freeze, hand hovering over your phone before it drops to the floor. He wrote this song for you. Tears well up in your eyes as you realize he has been just as frustrated not being able to see or talk to you too. You stand there for a few moments processing everything when your phone starts ringing. You realize it’s your friend. You answer it, still feeling dazed.

“HE WROTE A SONG FOR YOU!”

“I am aware of that.”

“So you finally have come to terms with the fact that Yoongi is your soulmate huh?”

“I mean it’s pretty hard to deny it at this point. It feels like something is tugging on my heart every time I listen to his music.” 

“This must be his way of trying to find you and talk to you. He’s going to write a whole mixtape dedicated to you just watch.” You scoff into the phone.

“I don’t know about all that...” 

“it’s true! He will! Yoongi has always been very open and honest with his feelings. If this is at the forefront of his mind, then he’s going to write about it.” You sigh and flop onto your bed, staring up at the ceiling. 

“Maybe he’ll start including times and places he wants to meet you or something.” 

“That would just be stupid do you know how many fans would go there if he did that?”

“He’ll probably do it cryptically then. Listen to what he’s saying y/n, like really listen.”

“That’s gonna be kind of hard when I don’t know Korean...” 

“He posted a translation with the song!” 

“Oh? Really?”

“Yes! Go read it!” You immediately switch back over to their twitter and see that he did post screen shots of his notes with an English translation. You read the lyrics and it doesn’t stop you from tearing up even more. To read all of the frustrations he’s had with thinking he was never going to meet you, to now having hope that he’s heard you listening to his music that one day you will find each other. You don’t hesitate to grab your phone and tweet a reply. 

I don’t know if you’ll see this but I hear you. I am listening to every word. 

Yoongi doesn’t quite understand why reading that comment sent such intense butterflies into his stomach. Could it be you? Is it possible that he happened to find his soulmate in a sea of countless other replies? He tells himself no. That there’s no way that is even possible. But there is a small nagging in the back of his mind that keeps reminding him of what Namjoon had said to him, what all the guys have said to him. 

The universe has a way of making sure you two will be brought together. 

He taps on your page and sees that you just recently made it if the fact that one of only things on your page was the reply to him and another one stating that you were a new army. He smiles at that. And now he’s internally debating with himself if he should talk to you and try to get to know you, or if he was just being crazy. He’s leaning more towards being crazy. Maybe the lack of contact with his soulmate for this long is just making him see you in every body. He sets his phone down and sighs, but before long he begins to feel a pulling urge in his chest. Like someone is tugging him back over to his phone. Before he can stop himself he makes himself a fake suga stan twitter account and responds to you. 

I’m sure he will see this. He’s on social media much more than you think he just doesn’t always respond unless he has something really thoughtful to say.

Ah, thank you. I probably sound like some crazy fan don’t I?

Not at all.. I think... I think he would be happy to know that someone is listening to him. Like really hearing his words.

I hope so. I just feel bad you know? Like I wish I could just pop over to Korea be like here is your soulmate! So he doesn’t have to be sad anymore.

Are you his soulmate?

He has to wait a while before you respond. 

I believe so. I sincerely hope so. Anyone would be lucky to be his. He’s a wonderful person and cares about others so much. Even just in my short time being an army I can see that. 

Yoongi stops responding after that, not trusting himself to reveal who he is and fly you out on a plane to Seoul just to see for himself if you are his soulmate. He is frustrated, wondering how exactly he was going to get to meet you. He could set it through his song, but he needs to be careful about it. He can’t reveal too much or the entire fandom will be wherever the place is he is talking about. He’s about to start working on the next song when a text comes through. 

HYUNG GO TO BED! I know you’re still awake so sleep! Work on another song tomorrow night! Goodnight! 

Yoongi laughs as he reads the message from Taehyung. He texts him goodnight and lays down on the couch in his studio, drifting off to sleep with his song playing on repeat in his head and a wide smile on his face.

Tag list: @anoesjkaax​​​ ( didn’t forget you this time heheh) @just-call-me-trash-can​ @thestral-balerion​ @xcastielbabyangelface​ @rukinamukami​ @r-e-d-i-s-h​ @heartblackerthancoffee​ @rosita7703​

[alias-b]

sins of my youth. 014

Billy Hargrove x OC! Evie Fenny~ Also posted to my AO3

Summary: It was common knowledge that Billy Hargrove hated Hawkins. Hated Cherry Lane. Even loathed the strange girl next door. Evie Fenny wasn’t too fond of the chaotic Cali transfer either. An awful high school tradition sparks a chain of events that changes everything, ultimately bringing two frayed souls together.

A/N: Thanks for waiting!! Billy & Evie have a quiet morning after the party. Start to face the reality of what they have. Friends reconnect. Enjoy the chapter!! TW: Brock's aggressive drunk behavior. Flashes of past trauma and Pica mentions. Some heavy petting.

Chapter 14: Such Sweet Sorrow

   Evie finally had him.

   For the first time, she was the one gone from the bed as Billy opened his eyes.

   One hand felt for her and touched the wall. Dead air where the warmth used to be. Frowned because he wasn't able to bury his nose in endless brown curls to inhale sweet amber.

   Billy surged up and heard the shower running. Evie singing unabashedly over it like no one was in the house. Something he couldn’t place on the rock and blues end. Bigger than he was used to hearing from her. Sultry even. Lungs vibrating to handle the smooth sound that was ever-growing.

   “Ah oh, smokestack lightnin…” She echoed out against the rush of water. "Oh..."

   Billy pictured her hips swaying about as she washed her hair. Suds and curls slick over her shoulders. Smoke fogging. Huge notes he didn’t know she could handle. 

  "Whoa-oh, tell me, baby..."

   Fuck, he was hard.

   "Where did ya stay last night?"

   A heave followed before he got out of bed. Aching.

   "Why don't ya hear me cryin'?"

   Trying not to picture her body slick against his under the pounding of hot water. Droplets falling over her lips and eyelashes. The notes she reverberated that sounded like moans. Fingers digging into warm flesh.

   Billy had to stop it for his own sanity. Three pounds on the door had her skidding against a bath mat.

   Record scratch.

   “What!” Evie blushed deep maroon because the show was not for him.

   “Play me some Def Leppard, Angel!” Billy echoed back. “Also, I gotta take a leak.” It was satisfying to hear the loud huff follow.

   “My mom’s bathroom is free in her bedroom.”

   “Yeah, I try to avoid parent’s personal rooms when I’m at a girl’s house. If you can believe it.”

   “I don’t. But, I won't dare ask why. I’m just finishing up...and I’m not your personal jukebox!” Evie tilted her head back under the spray. 

   “We’ll see about that, let me in there to press some buttons. I'm a pro.” Billy got lower and playfully jiggled the handle as the water shut off. Both of them acting their usual combative selves with each other. 

   “Keep dreaming, William.” Sarcasm made him feel right at home.

   “Believe me, I will, Evangeline.” Billy stepped out when the door opened. Steam followed Evie scrunching her curls into a towel. Covered in a deep purple bathrobe that drowned her dewy body. Clean and still blushing, tying it tighter at the sight of him there looking positively messy and stunning.

   Ocean eyes sparked without shame.

   “Look at you all glowing and wet. Are you...double knotting that because I’m here?” He teased, getting close so one finger could creep under the tie. A tug had Evie's body flush into his. Heat radiating. Damp ringlets dripping down.

   “Yes.” The reply was instant. “I’m Billy-proofed now.”

   “You couldn’t Billy-proof yourself if you tried.” Towering, her slunk in toward Evie’s unamused expression. Earned himself a wet hair towel tossed over his head. Cackles erupted. 

   “All yours.” Evie hurried around him and shut her bedroom door to get changed. Threw a plain skirt on to tuck a shirt into it. No plans to leave the house or see Heather.

   Heather.

   Evie eyed her bookcase of treats. Plucked up a gemstone and didn’t want anything else. Wanted to struggle and feel it force down. All the random pangs in her stomach. It gnawed. She thought of choking. Of Billy finding her. 

   Slowly, she tapped it back down. Tried to just breathe through it before knuckles rapped the door again.

   “You have my pants.” Came the voice. Evie broke to laugh. 

   “Yeah, yeah.” She clicked the lock and let him in. No makeup and damp curls cascading all over her shoulders. “I’m starving. Breakfast? I can make...toast sorta.”

   “That tone really convinces me. I saw a perfectly good waffle iron in there.” Billy rubbed his shoulder and caught her looking again. A beat before he explained. “Dad had an empty bottle in his hand when he swung. Busted the damn thing on me, okay? It’s ugly, don’t worry about it.”

   She gasped, steering toward him.

   “Did it cut you? He could have broken it on your head or-”

   “Lucky break.” Billy joked, rolling his arm a little before he passed her to snatch his jeans up and put them back on. “He missed my face. I can handle it. Just, let me worry about it, alright? I hate to see your eyes get all huge at me.” Blue yawned and hopped off the bed to follow him before Evie went too.

   “It frightens me more that you’re so...causal.” She spoke lighter, washing out Blue’s dishes to fill them. Meows followed and Billy softened.

   “I make a good breakfast, you want to help me out here?” Bright eyes flashed over his shoulder.

   “We’ve used this thing like once.” Evie chuckled. “Mix is above your head. I’ll get a bowl.” She clicked around to find one and set it out.

   “I don’t want to talk about my dad when I’m with you.” Billy decided, eyes on the window above the sink. He tried to numb. “Okay? Evie, I know you hear things. I need you to pretend you don’t. For me. Just...”

   Broad hands settled on the counter. Submissive. Vulnerable. He didn't turn to see her.

   “I’m allowed to worry still.” She pointed. “But, I’ll give you...space.”

   “Fair.” He seemed the type to leapfrog the subject either way. Evie didn't want him to run. So she just stared at the lines of his back shifting.

   Odd to see him so domestic. All velvet and sleepy. Making breakfast. Evie wondered about putting her arms around him. Kissing his cheek. Dragging him back into bed. Rolling around under cotton sheets.

   Her head shook. No. No. No.

   Billy loaded the hot iron with thick batter and clamped it shut. A hiss tapered off. The sound snapped her back.

   “Hope you’re taking notes.”

   “Definitely.” She chuckled. Figuring he spent a lot of time cooking for himself growing up. Evie stepped up next to him and licked her lips. Gathered the will to say it. “Hey, I, uh...like hanging out with you.”

   Billy’s brow rose. Sly while he bit his tongue. Head tilting to boast.

   “Getting all mushy on me, Angel. Look at you melting between my fingers.” He didn't know the half of it. Lashes batted at her so Evie rolled her eyes.

   “I regret saying it alrea-mmff. ” She had her chin cupped to angle it so their lips could collide. Palm sliding to her neck, a thumb drew a circle into flesh.

   Evie drew out.

   “Did you use my toothbrush? I taste mint.”

   “Just the mouthwash.” Billy laughed at her, pecking between words. “I’m not an animal.”

   “Debatable.” Evie’s hand went behind his neck to bring him back down. Tongue and teeth. Billy actually moaned. Pressed her back into the counter before she pulled out. “You’re gonna burn it.”

   “Shit.” Billy jerked away to save the first waffle just in time before adding another. “Only care so I can impress you.”

   “Sure.” Evie droned. They stood there in silence. Shared one space to make a warm breakfast. Peaceful and smelling of sweet batter. Warm and easy. Almost too easy. Eyes flicking to each other and away between steaming pulses.

   “Syrup.” Evie strained to reach it and Billy brought two plates to the table.

   “You gonna let me cook for you again?” He waited for her to take a bite. Humming blissfully.

   “Oh, my god,” Evie cut another piece. “Okay, I’ll give you this. You’re full of surprises, too. Billy Hargrove can cook. He writes stories he won’t share in school and still gets not half bad grades. And he’s the fucking Keg King.”

   “I think you finally find me interesting.” Billy folded a huge piece in half and swallowed whole. Syrup dripping from his lips to be licked.

   “Ugh, I-” They froze when the phone rang in Evie’s room. Frowning, she cut her food with more ire. Billy shot her a look between bites. “I already know it’s Heather.”

   “She’s gonna get to you eventually,” Billy noted, plate empty. Evie left a sliver out of habit and caught him eyeing it before she slid it to him wordlessly. Wondered what his eating habits at home were. He stabbed it with his fork and swallowed.

   “I know. I just,” Evie searched, “I can’t right now.” With some haste, she got up and took the plates away to wash them. Scrubbing harder than necessary as Billy came into the kitchen. Felt his eyes blare. “Hey, come over here.”

   Billy crossed to her at the sink. Watched Evie turn to grip the counter when he blatantly invaded her space. 

   “This close?” He winked.

   “Just,” Evie’s breath hitcher sharper as she stood tall to see his eyes, “don’t move for a second.”

   Fingertips drew up the hair on his forearms. The veins that pulsed. Danced over his collar gently, felt the heat of him through his tee. Billy just watched with his usual intensity. Evie avoided his eyes and touched him. Delicate caresses that rocked his soul apart. 

   One palm cupped the back of his head. Surged into bedhead curls. Eyes lifting to burn his. Billy gave this wanting, little sound. Leaned in for a taste, but she evaded him. Just to see his eyes cloud. Massaged his neck and pulled him down for a gentler kiss. Pushed her tongue out to taste him first. Sticky sweet maple. Earned another whine.

   Billy inhaled against her. Let Evie have some control and worked to earn it back. Made another breathy sound before he palmed her bottom. Grinding into Evie until he was picking her up to set her on the counter.

   A squeal caught up her throat. She felt his muscles bulge and strain but he did it like she was nothing. Shock etched before Evie was reeling out to dart her eyes all over his expression.

   “Told ya.” He chuckled, pressing in between Evie’s legs. Fingers tucked a blond curl aside before her voice stopped another oncoming kiss.

   “Are we just going to keep doing this until one of us cracks?”

   “Jesus Christ, Evie, we tongue fucked in the middle of the street. During a fight." Blue eyes glinted. "That was already the crack.”

   “I’m just thinking about...after.” She searched for more words and none came.

   “Too young to worry about the after.” Billy leaned back to see her. “I think you want to feel good now and…” He leaned in closer, fingers dancing down her front. “I wanna be the person making you feel good. Pretty simple. Crystal clear. Yes?”

   "Y-Yes." That hot iron hand slipped under her skirt. Billy ghosted their lips and heard Evie shiver at his touch. Sinful fingertips trailing up her inner thigh. Dangerously close. Admiring her unfurling.

   Too pretty when lust blushed her cheeks that obscene red. Full lips opened. No sound came. She sunk into him totally. Stunning.

   Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon.

   "I just don't think you've had the right people making you feel so good, Evie." Billy's voice dipped to a baritone that always turned her to putty. "And the things I'd like to do to you. Hm."

   Lips touched the shell of her ear. Left little kisses that lingered in a uniform trail. Arms tightened around him. Felt his finger draw up the hem of her panties. Readied to curl under the fabric.

   He leaned out for permission. For her to ask him for more because she wanted him just as bad. Billy had to hear her say it. The craving itched him deep in his stomach.

   Evie wiggled in place and then she heard it when they locked eyes again. The unmistakable click of baby pink platform heels. Never had the damn sound filled her with such dread.

   “Fuck.” They scrambled away from the counter. Lungs sputtering until Billy bumped into Evie in the dining room between the kitchen and living space. Craning to see the front door. Keys jiggled the lock. “My mother.” 

   “Hey!” Billy tripped as Evie pressed him out, both knowing they wouldn’t make it to her room.

   “Under the table, I’m not letting her find out about…” The word died. Us. Billy actually laughed on his way under the table, hiding within the embroidered cloth. Evie sprang to attention holding her breath as Mona burst in. Fighting to get her key out.

   “Evie!”

   “Mom…” Evie flashed a smile and tried not to look all blushed and guilty. Like she hadn't just had a boy's erection pressed into her thigh. Like she wasn't about to let Billy Hargrove fuck her on a counter after making her breakfast. “You’re home so early.”

   “Oh, well we had this disagreement down there and I just also couldn’t stand how we left things…” Mona was gesturing aimlessly and setting her bag on the sofa, turning to see Evie before she gasped out. “Baby, what happened to your face?”

   “Uh! I...slipped on the ice going down the steps. Really embarrassing.” Evie touched her brow.

   “Sweetheart,” Mona came to kiss the wounded eye socket all better, “did you ice it well? I should have something that'll cure that right up in my bag.” Manicured hands came to angle and see, tutting. “My poor thing.”

   “It’s fine, really. I was just…” Evie trailed off as Mona hugged her. Tight. “Mom, really I’m okay. What…What happened?”

   “Oh,” she sniffed and laughed it off, “sisters disagree on silly things. They still love each other. And I just kept thinking about you here. I missed my baby.” Mona patted her cheek and smelt the air. “Is that cologne? Did you throw any parties while I was gone?”

   “No, I did adopt a new kitten. She was...a gift from a friend. Blue.”

   “I’ll have to meet the little devil when she wanders out.” A smile flashed. “No parties though, you know I don’t mind a few friends over. Maybe...a nice boy.”

   “Mom.” Evie groaned.

   “Swear on Dolly, no parties though.” Mona joked, sharp talons flicking toward the blonde country queen's framed face.

   “I swear on Dolly. I...did try to make waffles. Craving.” Evie chuckled and slid into a seat at the table. Adjusted the tablecloth some.

   “They don’t smell burnt, I’m impressed.” Mona went to her bag. “Ah, well, I got us all kinds of fresh supplies. Powders and dust. Candles. Oils. Gris-gris. Plenty of sage for the house. And you can’t snoop around my bag because I got you some lovely items for your birthday, missy.”

   “Great,” Evie rubbed her temple and jabbed her sock-clad foot out when Billy’s fingers teased her leg, “listen, mom, about our fight-”

   “What fight?” Mona paused to blink at her daughter, setting new candles up on the shelves. “Oh, that little tiff. Sweetheart, your father and I are still working things out. I didn’t want to tell you because...the thing is…he doesn’t want to see us. In fact, he’s been sending that money to ease his own consciousness and, I won’t accept it. We don’t need him. We have each other, that's enough.”

   Evie wanted to fight her mother on it. Watching the woman click around and keep busy by force so she didn’t have to face those pesky emotions.

   This woman who was alive and who sang her songs and who brought cut up pieces of fruit into her daughter's room unprompted. Who made delicious meals and who loved and supported her, despite being overbearing. Despite not wanting to process the negative.

   Not everyone had a person who loved them that deeply, but Evie did. So, she just nodded.

   “No, you’re right.” Hands clasped. “I hope you had a nice time down there.”

   “Yes, it was just a full house and I missed you. That’s all.” Mona pressed her lips. “I like being back home.”

   “Me, too.” Evie gave Billy another light kick for being a handsy shit.

   “I’m going to get the rest of this stuff unpacked in my room and I might have a trip to the store. Never a lazy moment, honey. Do you need anything?”

   “Ah, I can’t think of any-” Evie hitched a gasp and covered it in a cough because Billy’s head slipped between her knees. “-thing!” They clamped shut to keep him in place. Mona blinked and gave her a shrug.

   “Alrighty, dear. Well, let’s say dinner tonight at six?”

   “Six is perfect!” Evie pressed her lips, ready to burst at the mouth on her inner thigh. Teeth nipped and she reached under the table to tug for curls.

   Mona flounced off to her room with the suitcase and Evie shoved out from the table the moment the door shut. Saw Billy's head perk, engulfed in the hanging cloth and looking too innocent.

   "Nice orange panties. Little lacy."

   She scowled at him. Lips touched her knee as an apology until Billy snickered and got pushed as he crawled out.

   “What? I figured you sat down so I-”

   “I was making sure you were covered, asshole.” Evie hissed. “C’mon, you cannot be here. My mom can’t know about us or...me with anyone, she’ll lose her mind.”

   “You mean, she’ll start ordering wedding cakes.” Billy snuck back to the bedroom with her. Realized she had him by the hand. Evie shut the door and put on music so he could grab the rest of his stuff. “Window?”

   “Probably best.” Evie fiddled with her fingers and peered down. Shuddered to let the molten heat subside fully. “Sorry.”

   “Not my first grand escape.” Billy got his jacket and boots on. Looked up from her bed and flashed a smile. “See you around?”

   “You might.” 

   “Swear on Dolly.”

   “Stuff it. Now shoo.” Evie clasped those fidgeting hands behind her as he pushed the window up to climb over it.

   Billy paused in the snowy grass when a palm covered his still gripping the edge. Blue eyes peered to see before lifting to her face, unable to read the expression or those huge, sparkling eyes that were ending him.

   Unable to stop himself.

   He craned to place his lips on her brow. A smile quirked and he had to face away from Evie for the first time. Something burst open and overcame him. Rendered Billy into a daze. Painted new iridescent colors he'd never seen before.

   Fingers curled together. Drawing the connection out even still because they couldn't look at each other. Something else might crack and neither would come back from it.

   “Why’d you do that?” Evie sounded out with no air.

   “I felt like it.” He shifted the toe of his boot into frozen slush to hear grass crunch.

   “Your lips are soft.” Evie peered aside. Butterflies landing within her stomach. For once, it didn't feel empty or like it was weighed down with jagged stones. “I meant what I said about going out. Me and you.”

   Me and you. Sounded so saccharine.

   “I was gonna hold you to it, don’t think I forgot.” Billy peeked to see her and they managed to share another beat.

   Whatever cracked seemed so worth it.

   Evie felt the cold seeping in around him and didn’t let his hand go. Didn't want to because he was letting her see him and touch him. Billy thought of when he was a little boy and his mother took him to see a play.

   Romeo and Juliet. Lovers on the balcony. It seemed silly up until this exact moment where she looked so exquisite.

   Billy longed to create stories with such a hold. Things that distracted from men who hit. Things he could project himself into so others could see inside his chest without it hurting.

   One truth became so clear. Evie didn't hurt.

   "Evie."

   "Yeah?"

   “Are you waiting for me to change on you?” He kept her gaze steady. Thought he saw her eyes well for one second.

   “Honestly, I don’t know what I’m waiting for these days. A charge maybe.”

   Billy looked amused, stretching toward her to settle their foreheads together. Tilting.

   “I’ve heard you sing, Angel, draw it yourself.” He came back. “And talk to Heather.” Billy slipped from her hand and it pained him. It actually collapsed something under his flesh. “Sad eyes are killing me.” He plucked for a cigarette to light up. "You might just kill me, you know that? And I'd let you."

   Evie was lost in him, too.

   “Billy.”

   “Hm?” He gave a sly turn and she bit her lip, picking up Blue when the needy kitten crawled to her for affection.

   “Promise me something.” She cocked her head, dark locks bouncing in the clear daylight. Billy curled a fuller smile at her.

   “Think I won’t do just about anything for you at this point?”

   “Just promise me you won’t change,” she said, “after.”

   “So you admit we’re happening?” He teased and Evie got flat. A finger drew along his chest. Eyes steady. “Cross my heart.”

   Evie shook her head with a smile and started to shut the window. Such sweet sorrow.

   “Hey, flash me for the road.” Billy got vulgar.

   Never mind!

   A huff before she smacked the window shut. Billy laughed on his way around the Hargrove house. Neil’s car was gone to work. Thankfully.

   Susan prepping a meal in the kitchen. Eyes lifted to see the boy still grinning to himself like he held a secret close to his heart.

   “I like that song.” She mused, chopping carrots and celery. Billy skidded to face her in the doorway.

   “Huh?”

   “That Irma Thomas one you were just humming.” A smile followed. "I played it on the cello once. When I was younger. Did you know that?"

   “No... Uh, must’ve been the TV playing it though.” Billy hurried to his room, passing Max with some headphones on so he made a point to flick them off for fun.

   "Jerk." A red scowl followed him as he ruffled her hair and went along. Blissfully uncaring. "Ugh."

   Not missing a beat, Susan went back to her prep. Considered the reality that her stepson was on the cusp of first love.

** ** **

   Evie mulled over her phone the next afternoon. Staring like it might come alive and solve all her problems. If only.

   Blue hopped up for some pets that were granted. Purring encouraged Evie to pluck up the receiver. Dialing before she smacked it down.

   “C’mon, just…” Evie winced and tried again. No answer. She ignored four calls the day before. Frowning, Evie settled the phone down and stood up with Blue. Heart falling.

   And then a ring. Evie didn’t wait for it to end.

   “Hello!” She blurted.

   “Evie!” Heather matched in enthusiasm.

   “...Hey,” Evie sank down holding the kitten to her chest.

   “Hi,” Heather lost what she was about to say and sighed, “can we maybe talk somewhere?”

   “I’d...I'd like that.” Evie searched, licking her lips.

   “I, ugh, went for a walk into town. Want to meet at our cafe?” Heather sounded out, breath spreading cold in the booth. “I’m on a payphone.”

   “Sure. I’ll be there in ten?”

   “Right...right, I’ll see you, I…” Heather welled. “I’m so sorry.”

   “Let’s just talk when I get there.” Evie sniffled. “I’m not mad anymore. It's stupid. It's not us.”

   “O-Okay, I’ll see you in a bit. I’ll order your favorite.”

   “Thanks, Heath. I’ll hurry.” Evie smacked the phone down and let Blue go to wander. “Mom, I’m going to meet Heather!” Hands yanked her boots and coat on.

   “Leftovers in the fridge if you get hungry tonight!” Mona came out fixing her hair in a cocktail dress. “I’m going to meet some friends. Be home later, don’t wait up for me.” Evie stared at the little silver dots decorating her mother’s dress. The sparkly earrings she was putting in. 

   It was clearly a date.

   “Sure.” Evie turned away to go into the cold, shutting the door behind her. Tried to pretend her mother wasn't another fifty logs on the fear of dating Billy Hargrove fire.

   Barely catching the bus at the end of the road, she made it to the opposite side of the main street in no time. Hands stuffed into her pockets while shoulders hitched at the rush of cold. Evie shivered and got to the crosswalk, eyes lifting to see the orange hues inside the little coffee shop. 

   Heather in the window checking her watch with two drinks steaming and ready. Eyes lifted and brightened upon seeing her friend there. A smile crossed before she perked to wave.

   Evie brought her gloved hand out to mirror it. Light as a feather. 

   A weight looped her wrist. Miraculous and dragging. Evie thought she might sink into concrete. A hand attached to a stumbling drunk.

   It was Tannen’s eyes that shook her. Full of vitriol and rage. Enough to poison anyone. The back of her tongue burned with it. Evie suddenly couldn’t speak there against a harsh rush of winter wind.

   “Fenny. Girl, I was just thinkin ‘bout you.” Tannen smiled all sloppy and he still looked so hateful.

   “Let me go, Brock.” Evie tugged back against him there at the crosswalk. 

   “Just wanna talk. Like we did in that closet. When we hid from the storm together. Was nice.” He made this odd sound. A scrape in the back of his throat. Evie realized he was crying. Unsure why it frightened her more. “Never told anyone else what we talked about, did you know that?”

   “You’re drunk, you need to go home.” Evie leveled out. If his emotions went any higher, they'd burst.

   “Evie!” Heather called across the street. Jogging over as Brock yanked her further along. Into his much taller body. “Hey!”

   “We’re just talking, Holloway, don’t get your thong in a twist.” Tannen pulled a flask from his pocket and gulped, spilling sour alcohol on them both. Evie wrinkled her nose and really began to fight because he was yanking her toward his shiny new car. Already a dent in the side.

   "Get your damn hands off her!"

   "Maybe when I'm finished!" He craned toward the other girl.

   “Let go of her,” Heather grasped for Evie’s arm, “you need help.”

   This manic smile crossed his face.

   “It’s why I’m talking to Fenny, here. She’s just s-so fucking helpful. Pretty pillow for the world to land all its shit on. Aren’t you, girl?” He dropped his flask into the top-down car and pinched Evie’s cheek, got smacked off as she struggled. “Just understands shit. So, we’re gonna go somewhere and talk like we did that night. Think about it too much and you fucked me up. You're gonna fix it.”

   Muscles burst when he plucked Evie up by her elbows and carelessly threw her into the backseat over the door.

   “Stop it!” Evie scrambled up to crawl out as he pushed Heather around. “Just stop.” She got out so he went for her again. Playfully hugging her into his chest. Brutally intoxicated. No one walking the streets to help at the late hour.

   As if they'd try. Fucking people in this town. Minding their business when actual shit goes down but running for the dirty gossip.

   “You were right, girl, everything you said. Fucking sucks. All of it. But, you knew that.” He went on, eyes watery. "All this shit. It's not worth it."

   That gouged her.

   “Brock, you need to let me go, right now.” Evie got wedged between him and the car. “You’re scaring me, do you understand that?” She dropped her voice. Got through to him. “I’m sorry, divorce is shit and parents can fucking suck. But, this isn’t going to make your life better. Destroying yourself and hurting others...just stop. You can stop.” Heather came to tug at him again and he seemed to flood back.

   Evie felt him loosen up so she slipped out and away.

   “You shouldn’t be driving.” She tried. Snatching his wrist to help and the hate poured out. Hot lava burning Evie before a shove sent her back into Heather's arms.

   “Not over,” he muttered to himself, skidding around to get into the car regardless, “not over. Fucking Hawkins trash. Sick of it. All of it.”

   “Brock, just-wait!” Evie felt Heather grip her wrist as he swerved off. “Fuck.”

   “He’s losing it.” Heather pulled again. “Are you okay?”

   “We should call the police, he could hurt someone...or himself.” She added, going to a payphone. “Do you have change?”

   “Yeah...yeah.” Heather fished through her little wallet and Evie smashed some buttons. A couple of snowflakes fell as she hurried to speak into the receiver. Sky darkening above. One sigh followed before she shrugged and set it down.

   “He already has a DUI, this won’t end well.” She rubbed her face. “He was crying.” Like Fredrick. Huge, wet tears hitting cool skin. Hands pulling for more of her to still them.

   They're sick and twisted and hateful and this part of Evie still wanted to nurture. To make it better because she couldn't make herself better.

   “Are you okay, though?” Heather asked again, sweet as pie when she smoothed a snowflake from Evie’s cheek before it could melt away. Brown eyes flickered.

   “Yeah, just spooked I guess.” Hands went back into her pocket so she leaned into the booth. “You?”

   “Just glad he didn’t drive off with you.” Heather shook at the thought noticeably, using her sleeve to itch her nose before she held herself and frowned. “What...did you guys talk about in that closet? You know, before the fight?”

   “I, uh, was pretty drunk so I don’t remember much actually,” Evie sidestepped out of the booth, eyes elsewhere, “it was over a year ago.”

   Brock was an asshole, but these weren’t her secrets to share.

   Evie got a few steps in before sighing ice to turn back to Heather. Stunning there under flickers of snow and stars reflecting in her big eyes. Glowing streetlamps. Hair piled with a baby blue ribbon to match her fuzzy sweater. Lips wobbling. Steady, Evie came to hug her tight.

   “Not mad.”

   “You should be.” Heather sniffled, squeezing her before pulling out. Fingers curling into Evie’s coat. “Listen, the whole thing was dumb. He was normal at the time, I didn’t know he was such a jerk. I just asked if he’d met you and figured you guys might have something in common. I was drunk and maybe vulgar. I'm sorry.”

   “We did, ah,” Evie caught herself, “you were just trying to be a wing-woman and I...I get weird about that stuff. I’m still coming around to the idea of being...desired. I don't know. Let's just go inside.”

   “Ugh, you’re hot, Evie, you are!” Heather smacked her ass as they turned to walk off. Evie jumped a mile into the air giggling which Heather mirrored. Arm slung over her shoulder. “The updated wardrobe was only the beginning. You’re the whole package. Smart. Talented. Hell, you have the Keg King on your line. Just admit you’re a tough bitch already and you deserve only the best.”

   “I have him on my line because someone gave him my number. What happened to busting his balls for me?” 

   “Well, I can make an exception if he makes you smile like that.” Heather teased. “Come on, I bet our drinks are cold.” They went into the cafe to leave Brock and his deranged expression behind. Back to the table after Evie waved at Jesse near the register. “Just got us a hot chocolate, figured we could use it. I can get us another if-”

   “It’s fine, Heather, let’s just sit.” Evie slipped her coat off and exhaled. 

   Behind her eyes, pictures flashed to blind. These snapshots of Fredrick shoving her into bed the same way Brock pushed her into that car. Brown hair slipping over sheets before fingers tugged at her clothing. Standing too tall over her until his shadow cast to shroud her soul. Evie felt lost to so many shadows before him with twisting smiles and thunderous claps.

   A hand pushed into her chest to level the speeding heart and weeping lungs. Willed them to be still and lie down as Heather started to speak. More apologies.

   Evie brought her sweater higher to cover herself. Tugged the sleeves down. Wanted to curl up in too much fabric and drown in a dream of silken sheets and falling begonia petals. So no one could see her skin and burn it.

   Her breath drew tighter, closing in around too many clacking objects. Gemstones and keys. Red pushpins like cherries and that one safety pin that definitely opened on its way down. But, she’d been good again. Things would just come out. They had to.

   They had to.

   The things we put into the world come back at us. It worked both ways.

   “Evie, you’re shaking.” Heather paused to touch her hand and Evie almost lunged back.

   “I-I...I’m okay.” A smile cracked too wide. “Just Tannen.” Evie sputtered this breath like a broken fan, head shaking. Another smile. Even wider. Cheshire cat grin full of whimsy. She gulped and forced the chocolate down. Chalky into her stomach. “Did...Carol hurt you during that fight?”

   “Almost pulled my earring out but I got some hair,” Heather tilted to see Evie’s face, “don’t see much of a mark from that slap. You really gotta stay out of fights, Fenny, you’ll give Billy a run.”

   “Don’t I know it?” Evie watched Heather sip and peer at the little fireplace in the corner. “Mostly just shocked and I fell right into Tommy.” Evie rubbed the corner of her eye. Started to breathe better with her friend here. 

   “I still...feel bad about-”

   “Don’t beat yourself up, Heath,” Evie peered at the frost spreading along the windows. Near ready to obscure the world. Hide them in a warm little corner. “I don’t want that for you.”

   “I put you in danger, Eve. I did that.” Heather frowned again. Took a shaky drink.

   Evie didn’t have the heart to tell her best friend that danger was an old love whose arms she’d always walk into willingly. Body and soul. That she felt here when her heart panged at danger’s shadow and weight looming over her shoulder. Spilling to eat her right up. Weighting her into a damp sheet. Again and again in the same room that held her hostage.

   “Guys like Tannen put us in danger,” Evie decided at last, “not the other way around.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Thank you all so much for reading and supporting!! Chat with me and let me know what you think of the story if you have time. xoxo

TAGGED: @80sbxtch​ @nottherightseason​ @orxhidshavana​   @alagalaska​ @alongcamedolly​ @kellyk-chan​ @10blurredsmoke10 @stanley--barber​ @charmed-asylum​ @unmistakablyunknown​

[luvdsc]

i love love LOVED chenle's part of the clickbait series, and ngl the descriptions of the pastas were SO tempting 😩 i genuinely wheezed at the comments from the others in the end. chenle said that he wants to go to uni and get a girlfriend so, i hope his moment comes soon!! 🤭 maybe if possible miss cat, share some of your thoughts or any trivia behind the fic 🥺 also, jisung being the mastermind (with hyuck) was ON POINT i mean he's a big boi now (p.s. - i love you <3)

oh my gosh, honey bee, thank you sooo so so much!!!! 🥺💟💟 I had so much fun writing it and coming up with all the different pasta descriptions :’) even though I’m sure similar dishes have already been created, I made them all up whilst writing the fic, and I’m happy they sounded delicious 😋 and thank you for finding my humor funny 🤧💞 omg I hope he gets to experience college and dating! 💓 it’s sad how idols dream of doing things that are so ordinary and normal for everyone else tho ): but ooo ok some some fun facts about the fic!!

unmentioned facts about the characters:

the idea of worth it came after chenle kept taking y/n to his favorite food places in the city and they were all hella expensive places, meanwhile y/n took him to her own favorite places which were more in the average price range, and that sparked a debate between the two of them over if more expensive food tastes better or not and that’s how the channel started

hyuck actually knows a lot of good restaurants, so quite a few of the places they go to are suggested by him

when they do worth it episodes that need more people, like potlucks or family style meals, everyone happily participates and can be seen in those videos 💓

mark’s y/n features in some of their videos, specifically for ones that involves baked goods 🍪

chenle and y/n are taste testers in dream unsolved’s apple tater making video! mark’s y/n is also there to supervise, and she’s the one who actually created the recipe for them

chenle has been trying to convince renjun to do an unsolved x worth it crossover for months now but renjun refuses because having a second person (or maybe third since hyuck who’s the unsolved cameraman is also there) scaring him on the show is too much. plus, chenle isn’t even cute enough for him to tolerate that (unlike renjun’s y/n 👀)

hyuck attempted to steal jisung’s job one time because he wanted to eat all the good food and managed to convince him to swap for one video, but after seeing how terrified jisung was at a low level haunted place, he felt really bad and never tried again

renjun would never admit it out loud, but he sometimes wishes he had chenle’s job instead because the scariest thing you ever encounter at chenle’s job is the price tag

jisung sometimes guest stars on the extraterrestrial episodes of dream unsolved

behind the scenes of writing the fic:

I forgot what I had in mind for chenle’s fic back from when I first wrote the lil description blurbs in the masterpost and lowkey panicked when I began to write it a few days ago for his bday 😅 so chances are, the posted fic is not the same as my original idea for chenle lol

this was supposed to be done in time for his bday in kst time aka last saturday, but I got distracted by hockey player winwin, so I didn’t finish writing the rest of it until monday morning during my client meetings

jisung is a lil shit, but he has his best friend’s back and will be a good wingman, but in the most annoying way possible for his own amusement djdjdknd he learned it from hyuck LOL and omg ily too, sweetpea!! 💓 thank you for showing so much interest in my series 💜

[melwritesstufff]

Bakugou x Reader-Confessions

I realize I have no stories posted so here’s a reader insert I did a few months back. Enjoy! :)

Warnings: No nsfw, it’s just fluff and kissing

Word count: 1566

(Y/N’s P.O.V.)

Brrrriiiinnnggggggg

ugh

Brrrriiiinnnggggggg

“Y/N Get up you’re going to be late for school!”

Stop please

Brrrriiiinnnggggggg

Y/N if you don’t get down here you’re going to miss breakfast AND the bus!”

Fine, I'll get up

I kick off the blankets on my bed, rubbing my eyes trying to wake myself up. I get up and look in my closet for my uniform. Which are, of course, all identical. Once i’ve gotten ready, i go down ready to eat breakfast.

“Hey Mom whats for bre-”

“No time to eat! You missed your bus! It left almost five minutes ago!”

My eyes widen, I quickly grabbed my bag and run out the door.

As I'm running, I see a certain head of blonde spikes, who is also running on the other side of the street. He spots me as well, sends me a smirk then starts sprinting to the school gates. I speed up, my new objective not to get to school on time, but to beat Mr. Spikey Hair. Are you kidding me Bakugou? I’m already late and now you have to turn this into a race? It. Is. On.

He looks back at me as we get closer and realizes I'm gaining on him.

“Hey funny face! Finally catching up I see!”

If i want to beat him i’m going to need to be smart about this. Maybe if I distract him i can get ahead. I got this.

“Oh shut up. I’m just as fast as you are Bakagou”

That really set him off. Now everything falls into place as i am about to win this dumb race.

“OI THE FUCK YOU SAY TO ME YOU LITTLE SHIT”

He starts his usual angry boy routine you know, the yelling, the explosions the unnecessary name calling, and most importantly, getting distracted. As he starts to fire up his explosions, I sprint to the school gates, hoping he won’t notice until I’ve made it through the gate.

“HEY GET BACK HERE”

I start running faster. Come on YN, almost there. Just as i hear bakugou starting to catch up to me as i did with him before, I make it through the gate.

“YES! I win!” I turn around to see a very mad bakugou.

“Heyyy bakugou.”

“I’m going to give you three seconds to run you cheating fuck”

I bolt it down the school hallways, Bakugou close behind. As I get close to the classroom door, Bakugou grabs me by my back collar and pushes me against the wall.

“You fucking cheater. ‘I’m much faster than you bakugou’ you say that but you have to fucking cheat to win” He’s unnervingly calm. It’s scary. He’s going to kill me.

“Well all i did way say something. It’s not technically cheating right Bakagou?”

He lets go of me, once again getting mad.

“My NAME is BAKUGOU YOU LITTLE SHIT”

Before can grab me again i run into the classroom to see everyone in their seats. Oh right, I’m late.

“YOU LITT-”

“Bakugou, Y/N, how nice of you to join us. If you could go to your seats, that would be great.”

“Yes Aizawa-sensei.”

“Tch, whatever”

Me and Bakugou go to our seats.

Denki, who i sit next to whispers to me “hey why were you late? Did you and Bakugou, you know, do stuff” he wiggles his eyebrows at me, knowing of my crush on Bakugou.

“What?! No we just had a race to school. I won.”

“Ooh that explains why he’s so grumpy” Denki snickers but goes silent as Bakugou glares back at us.

~<Time skip lunch>~

(Bakugou’s P.O.V.)

“Soooo, you ever going to tell her?”

Shitty hair sits down next to me and starts eating his lunch. He’s been bothering me about this ever since he found out. Always trying to get me to tell her. It’s annoying.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Come on bro you know exactly what I mean. When are you going to tell Y/N that you like her?!”

We hear a gasp behind us and turn around to see Purple Grape Balls with a shocked look on his face.

“BAKUGOU YOU CAN’T LIKE Y/N SHE’S MINE”

“She doesn’t belong to anyone. Why don’t you shut the fuck up before I make you”

I look around to see if anyone heard the little shit yell. Well just my fucking luck, Y/N is standing up and staring at me in what seems to be disbelief. She turns back to look at stupid Deku. ‘Of course, she likes that nerd and not me. Fuck this.’ I walk out of the lunch room into the hallway.

(Y/N’s P.O.V.)

“I dunno Deku. Maybe if you get her parents to approve then she’ll say yes.”

I take another bite of my sushi and listen to deku’s reply.

“Yeah you’re probably right. I just don’t know how to ask though! How would i even start that conversation? Just go ‘Hey Uraraka’s parents! How’s your day? By the way can I ask out your daughter?’”

I sigh. He just needs to man up and ask her already. He’s been debating about this for the past two months. I understand that he’s nervous but she obviously likes him back. Of course when i try to tell him this he brushes it off as her just being nice.

“Izuku i think you just have to take a leap of faith. Just go up to her and as-”

“BAKUGOU YOU CAN’T LIKE Y/N SHE’S MINE”

I turn around in disbelief at what I just heard.

‘Bakugou.. likes me?’

I turn to Izuku to see if he heard it too. I’m guessing he did because his mouth is wide open, in just as much disbelief as i am in.

As I turn back I see Bakugou walking out of the lunch room, into the hallway.

“What are you waiting for? Go after him!” I look back to see Denki, who was sitting to the left of me previously, pushing me towards the hall doors where Bakugou left out of.

“Okay okay i'm going! No need to push me.”

Denki lets go of me and I run down the hallway to see Bakugou sitting at the end, his head in his hands.

“Hey Bakugou.” I slowly approach him. Careful not to startle him.

“Go away” he grumbles. Burying his head further into his hands.

“Bakugou…” I sit down in front of him.

“Is.. is it true?” I carefully try to lift his head back up so I could look at him. As his head comes up I see his eyes watering. ‘Wait... is bakugou.. crying?’

“Yes! I like you okay! The secrets out! It’s not that big of a deal! Just… just go be with Deku and leave me alone...” he moves my hands away from his face and turns away from me.

“Wait, Bakugou, do you think Ilike Izuku?” I turn to him again.

“Just go away.” he tries to get out of my grasp again but i stick my ground.

“You absolute idiot Bakugou” i chuckle.

“Yeah, I know. No need to rub it in.” he grumbles.

“No that’s not what i mean.” I push his face so I can see his eyes more clearly. “I like YOU dummy!”

His eyes light up as he tackles me into a hug. As he pushes me against the wall with the force of him tackling me, he looks me in the eyes. “Are you sure?” I laugh and peck his cheek. “Of course I'm sure.”

He looks at my lips and very carefully, almost like he doesn’t want to hurt me asks “Can… can I kiss you?”

I nodded my head and we both slowly close our eyes and lean in. when our lips finally touch, it feels like fireworks have gone off. My lips felt like they were on fire, moving in sync with Bakugou’s Sparks were flying and the world around me disappeared. The only thing that mattered to me at that moment was that kiss. We soon both ran out of air and had to break apart.

“Y/N, will you be my girlfriend?”

“Bakugo-” i started

“Call me Katsuki, none of that ‘Bakugou’ bullshit” he growled

I giggled a bit and rested my head on his chest. “Okay Katsuki.” I lifted my head and looked him in the eyes. “Katsuki, i love you, of course I'll be your girlfriend”

He looked a bit surprised at my confession but smiled at me. He gave me another peck on the lips, but then the bell rang.

“Come on Katsuki, we gotta get back to class. As much as i love this, if we get caught we’re going to get in a lot of trouble, again.” I reluctantly push him away and he lets go of me. As much as I would love to stay with him like this all day, the risk of us getting in trouble is high, and not exactly worth it right now.

“Fine, let’s go” Although I pushed him away, he still grabbed my hand, not letting go. As we’re about to open the classroom door, we see a camera flash. I look back to see denki with a phone already running from my now very angry, and very blushy, newfound boyfriend.

“YOU BETTER FUCKING DELETE THAT CABLE WIRE!”

[mikrowrites]

all hail the magic man

•part five•

Doctor Strange x Apprentice!OC(platonic)

Why did the sky have to be so blue? Why was it such a beautiful day in Wakanda?

Charlie stared up at the sky in a daze, her ears ringing. The intense pain in her nose and head had numbed to her, her eyes becoming glossy as a tear slipped down her cheek.

This was not how her day off had gone planned.

- - - - - -

Charlie kept her gaze on the doorway, refusing to look out the window to see the battle rage on. She knew her post, knew what was expected of her.

Her thoughts began to wander to Stephen. What was he doing? Where even was he? Is he safe? Probably not, knowing him.

Charlie heard Wanda gasp, finally turning to the battle where several razor gears flew across the terrain. The young girl bit her lip before turning to Wanda. “Go. They need you. I will do everything in my power to protect Vision.”

Wanda looked nervously at the table before she glanced back at the battlefield. Charlie was right. “Okay. I trust you.”

Charlie summoned shields on her fists, watching Wanda leave. The girl was on her own now, to protect the Avenger and the Wakandan Princess.

Suddenly shouting broke through the room, an alien with a strange spear quickly ridding of the guards. Charlie burst forwards, knocking him back with a shield and kicking out his knees before attempting to make a forcefield while Shuri sent blasts of light at him.

Charlie’s arms shook as she used every bit of her power to form the large forcefield before she was knocked back, her nose flaring with pain as the alien used the handle of the spear to break her nose, kicking Charlie to the ground as the orange sparks of the forcefield disappeared.

By the time Charlie could process what was happening, there was a crash as the alien and Vision went falling out the window.

“Shit!” Charlie spat, wiping blood from her nose on her sleeve. She ran over to be sure Shuri was alright before forming a portal, running through it at full speed.

Charlie wrapped her arms around the waist of the alien, who was poised over a shouting Vision while trying to remove the stone, pulling him to the ground. The martial arts skills Mordor had taught her were kicking in, as she pulled his arm around behind his back and wrapped her left leg around his right, which seemed his right side was his balance of power.

The alien snarled at her, writhing as Charlie rolled with him on the ground, slamming his face into the Wakandan dirt. “Stay. Away. From him.” Charlie hissed, before using orange sparks to wrap him and detain him, standing up from the ground out of breath.

Charlie looked up to see Vision staring at her with his jaw dropped, the girl giving him an amused smirk. “What, never seen a girl wrestle befo-MRRFPH!”

Suddenly Charlie was grabbed by the throat, thrown back. The alien grabbed it’s spear, thrusting it towards her as she blocked it with her shield, the point embedding in the orange sparks.

The alien was tackled down again by none other than Steve Rogers, who rolled on the ground with him. The alien began to choke him, and before Charlie could make a move Vision was standing over them, the spear plunged through the alien’s chest.

The three stood out of breath, Charlie and Steve helping Vision stand. “You okay?” Steve asked Charlie.

“Yeah. Just peachy.” Charlie replied, wiping her nose again as the blood began to dry.

Everyone began to convene in the clearing as a wind whipped through the clearing.

“Everyone on my position.” Steve spoke into his comm. “we have incoming.”

Charlie’s breath hitched in her throat, turning to see a blue smoky portal begin to form and a large figure step out. Her eyes widened as she saw him, her hands trembling. “No...”

Thanos.

Everyone each began to attack him, Charlie frozen in place as she debated what to do. Stephen would want her to hide, she needed to run, she—

Everything around Charlie froze.

Her eyes were fixed on the gauntlet that adorned Thanos’ hand.

And the glowing green stone that was placed upon the thumb knuckle of it.

No. She wasn’t going to run.

Charlie burst forwards, forming a shield in one hand and using the other to form an illusion. Three other Charlies surrounded him, the mad titan smirking and opening his mouth.

“How amusing. You’re just like him.”

Charlie let out a shout, running and jumping towards him as a big purple fist came at her shield, connecting with it and falling through the illusion as he stumbled, Charlie jumping from behind and pushing against his back with feet.

She held him in a headlock, twisting around as she formed an orange knife in her hand, ready to slide it across his throat, until he clenched his fist holding the gauntlet, the power stone glowing as a force of purple energy sent Charlie to the ground, the back of her head slamming on the dry soil.

Charlie let out a dry gasp, trying to get up but her head screamed in pain otherwise. She collapsed back down onto the dirt, staring ahead.

Why did the sky have to be so blue? Why was it such a beautiful day in Wakanda?

Charlie stared up at the sky in a daze, her ears ringing. The intense pain in her nose and head had numbed to her, her eyes becoming glossy as a tear slipped down her cheek.

This was not how her day off had gone planned.

She was supposed to be sitting in the Sanctum with Stephen and Wong, eating their sandwiches and chatting. They’d maybe visit Kamar-taj, sight-see around Nepal. Then they’d go to bed safe and sound to start another new day.

Charlie was pulled out of her thoughts by a flash of light, everything silent. Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion, finally biting through the pain and sitting up. Steve and Thor looked like they had just seen a ghost, and Thanos was no where to be seen.

“What’s... what’s going on?” Charlie stammered.

Thor looked up at Charlie in surprise, rushing over to her and helping her up. “Charlie? What are you doing here?”

Charlie opened her mouth to respond.

“Steve?” They all turned to Bucky, who in front of them just... collapsed and turned to dust.

Charlie stumbled away from Thor, looking at the pile of ash confused. She turned to see Wanda, T’Challa, hell, even Sam disintegrate into nothing.

She fell to her knees, Thor solemnly placing a hand on her shoulder as he darkly stared ahead, his mind drowning in his failure.

“Thor...” Charlie turned to look up at the god with a blank expression. “Did... did we just lose?”

Thor lowered his head, the teen’s eyes filling with tears as her ears filled with the mumbles of the distraught Avengers and distant cries of Wakandans as it all sank in.

They lost. They lost.

Death comes sneaking up like a thief in the night. It comes silent and disguised.

But this was different. Charlie watched death take it’s victory. She could hear it in the cries and final words of people as they fell into nothing.

Charlie and death stood nose to nose, the two regarding each other coldly and impartially.

But it spared her.

And for the next five years, she would be left to wonder if it would’ve been better if she had died instead of live a life of guilt.

Thor helped Charlie stand, the girl turning towards him. She flicked on her sling ring, looking up at the god.

“I have to leave.”

- - - - - -

A/N: I’m not going to lie to you, I totally used this chapter to show that lil Charlie is actually a total badass xx

Taglist: @knightofreaders @imabookworm31 @lizlil @viarogers

[ilusionis]

THE MEGA RP PLOTTING SHEET / MEME.

First and foremost, recall that no one is perfect, we all have witnessed some plotting once which did not went too well, be it because of us or our partner. So here have this, which may help for future plotting. It’s a lot! Yes, but perhaps give your partners some insight? Anyway BOLD what fully applies, italicize if only somewhat.

Mun Name: vinn (or ila, for close friends)     Age: 22       Contact: IM, discord

Character(s) I rp: aizen sosuke on here, askin nakk ke vaar (@ levaer) and lille barro (@ firstritter, sideblog) Which muse(s) inspires you the most atm?(for MM): all of them actually. Current Fandom(s): bleach. Fandom(s) you have an AU for:  none. i’ve been debating about making a modern au but i wouldn’t be sure what to explore in it. within the context of bleach, though, i’m very interested in developing a bunch of AUs. My language(s): i’m only confident in writing in italian or english.  Themes I’m interested in for rp:   Fantasy / Science fiction / Horror / Western / Romance / Thriller / Mystery / Dystopia / Adventure / Modern / Erotic / Crime / Mythology / Classic / History / Renaissance / Medieval / Ancient / War / Family / Politics / Religion / School / Adulthood / Childhood / Apocalyptic / Gods / Sport / Music / Science / Fights / Angst / Smut / Drama / etc. Themes/Genres you have an AU for: none.

Preferred Thread length: one-liner / 1 para / 2 para / 3+ / novella. Asks can be send by: Mutuals / Non-Mutuals / Personals / Anons. Can Asks be continued?:   YES / NO   only by Mutuals?:  YES / NO. Preferred thread type: crack / casual nothing too deep / serious / deep as heck. Is realism / research important for you in certain themes?:   YES / NO. Are you atm open for new plots?:  YES / NO / DEPENDS. Do you handle your draft / ask - count well?:  YES / NO / SOMEWHAT. How long do you usually take to reply?:  24h / 1 week / 2 weeks / 3+ / months / years. I’m okay with interacting: original characters / a relative of my character (an oc) / duplicates / my fandom / crossovers / multi-muses / self-inserts / people with no AU verse for my fandom / canon-divergent portrayals / au-versions (as main or only verse). Do you post more ic or occ?:  IC / OOC. Are you selective with following others?:  YES / NO / DEPENDS.  

Best ways to approach you for rp/plotting:  if you want to plot, it would be best to send me an IM and ask me, then we can definitely move to discord if you’d rather. it’s possible to approach me for rp without plotting first, best way would be to send me a meme when i reblog them or simply an ic ask, which i will answer, while memes might get lost. ic asks are good ice-breakers, we can continue plotting from there.

What expectations do you hold towards your plotting partner:  i need my partners to be as interested in our plot as i am. it would be great if you already have an idea, but it’s still good if you don’t, i get that coming up with ideas can be hard sometimes; mostly, i require honesty. you can definitely tell me that you got no ideas and i will do my best to help, ask questions, try to spark something. i do require the feeling of having that commitment reciprocated.

When you notice the plotting is rather one-sided, what do you do?:  i tend to straight up drop the conversation lmao. no hard feelings, but if i get the feeling you’re not interested, i will take my distance - i won’t waste my energy on a plot if my partner doesn’t share my enthusiasm. still, you can always approach me again, if you’re feeling up to it / have new ideas / whatever. nice thing of online convos is that they don’t have an expiration date lol.

How do you usually plot with others, do you give input or leave most work towards your partner?:  i always ask if they got any ideas to begin with. if my partner already knows, more or less, what kind of dynamic they wanna build with my character(s), that makes it infinitely easier to build something meaningful. it’s still fine if they don’t, i will usually ask a lot of questions regarding their muse’s opinions / feelings / etc., and try to navigate from there. a question i usually ask is: is there any aspect of your muse you’d like to explore? i think that’s a pivotal point in any interaction. 

When a partner drops the thread, do you wish to know?:   YES / NO / DEPENDS. - And why?: if they feel like telling me, why not. but usually, i don’t warn when i drop a thread, so it’s not expected of my partners ever. - What should your partner do when dropping a thread?:  nothing in particular tbh. they can tell me or approach me to start a new thread if they wish to, but it’s not required.

What could possibly lead you to drop a thread?:  i might lose interest in a thread, especially if i feel like it’s going nowhere or if the inspiration for it simply doesn’t come. it’s never happened so far that i had to drop a thread because it was making me uncomfortable, but that could still be a reason for me to. in general, though, i would approach my partner in that case. - Will you tell your partner?:   YES / NO / DEPENDS.

Is communication in the rpc important to you?   YES / NO. - And why?:  absolutely. i’d rather avoid awkward situations or misunderstandings of any kind; if something’s up, tell me. i also like to communicate with my writing partners (be it in the tags of our threads or in IMs), makes me feel like the enthusiasm is not one-sided and i find it generally pleasant.  - Are you okay with absolute honesty, even if it may means hearing something negative about you and/or portrayal?:  sure. we gotta stay polite, but honest. - Do you think you can handle such situation in a mature way?  YES / NO.

Why do you rp again, is there a goal?:  to have fun, to cultivate my writing skills and my english, and to explore my favorite characters. 

Wishlist, be it plots or scenarios:  i want to develop aizen’s wandenreich verse, because i’m deep in quincy hell and i think his dynamics with quincy muses could be super interesting. anything involving the intricacies of bleach politics is super interesting to me, be it with aizen or with my two quincy muses - who, btw, are also good to explore dynamics between quincies / their culture / relationships etc.

Themes I won’t ever rp / explore:  i won’t write anything pertaining to sexual assault. 

What Type of Starters do you prefer / dislike, can’t work with?: it’s gotten difficult to work with starters such as “you summoned me / do you need anything / did you call for me” etc. i used to receive that kind of starters all the time with aizen, and i can’t come up with something new every damn time. i also have a hard time working with starters / replies that already feel like a closed conversation and don’t give me anything to reply to.

What type of characters catch your interest the most?:  i’m not sure i have a type. aizen is pretty much an exception, the only example of an already well-built character i write, since i tend to gravitate around minor ones that don’t have much material and that i can work on and expand without being affected by the fandom’s opinion or whatever. somehow i always tend to rp tall guys-

What type of characters catch your interest the least?:  children and teenagers don’t interest me for the most part. characters who don’t have a shred of an opinion or can’t offer any interesting conflicts. overly friendly, mushy, affectionate and flowery characters are really not my cup of tea either. 

What are your strong aspects as rp partner?:  oh god i have no idea. i’m very laid-back, i guess. i’ll never pressure my partners for replies, i don’t think i’m owed a reply in the first place because we all have lives offline,  so i’ll never take it to heart if a partner drops a thread. if i really feel like our roleplaying styles don’t mesh, it will be at my own discretion to do something about it. another strong aspect i have ....... i think i have a decent grasp on all my muses? especially aizen. of course ur free to disagree lol. also, lately i’ve been p active, so that’s it. 

What are your weak aspects as rp partner?: i’m really slow. i might speed up for my closest friends, with whom i plot / rp regularly, but usually i take quite some time to reply to random unplotted threads. i probably have a thousand other flaws as a rper, but this is the biggest one that comes to my mind rn. 

Do you rp smut?:  YES / NO. Do you prefer to go into detail?:  YES / NO / DEPENDS. Are you okay with black curtain?:  YES / NO. - When do you rp smut? More out of fun or character development?:  i don’t write detailed sex scenes. sorry lmao they’re just not interesting to me. however, i’m super-ok with writing anything around it, like intimate scenes etc. in fact i find it somewhat soothing.  - Anything you would not want to rp there?:  the nitty-gritty part is already a no, but i guess also sexual violence and shit like that. it’s a no.

Are ships important to you?:   YES / NO. Would you say your blog is ship-focused?:   YES / NO. Do you use read more?:  YES / NO / SOMETIMES. Are you: Multi-Ship / Single-Ship / Dual-Ship  —  Multiverse / Singleverse. - What do you love to explore the most in your ships?:  all my ships are with snow 8′) and ur never bored with her. in general, i love being able to explore the muses’ relationships, their conflicts and their peaceful moments, especially in relation to canon events! - What is your smut tag?: nsfw / ........ my n*sfw posts are rare anyway.

Are you okay with pre-established relationships?: YES / NO. - And what kind of ones?: to an extent, i prefer pre-est relationships to first meetings - which they can get a bit dull after some time. i’m ok with mostly anything, and only more selective when it comes to relationships that might severely alter my muse’s canon / past / overall character. 

► SECTION ABOUT YOUR MUSE.

- What could possibly make your Muse interesting towards others, why should they rp with this particular character of yours now, what possible plots do they offer?:  not to stroke my own feathers but aizen offers a perfect chance at character development to any and all bleach characters. he’s the main villain, he holds some wild opinions, and whether you agree or disagree with him, he leaves no one indifferent. aizen is the main cornerstone of bleach, and if you want your muse to questions themselves and the system / world around them, interacting with him is the best way to start. also, aizen interacted with a fuckton of people, knows practically everything there is to know, is responsible for significant amount of canon events, so you see ... whatever character you write, aizen has the full potential to be extremely relevant in the course of their development.

- With what type of Muses do you usually struggle to rp with?:   children, ordinary low-ranked shinigami (i find it hard when it’s out of the blue, even in aizen’s captain and lieutenant verses ... because interactions would likely be only work-related, and won’t go far), characters whose personalities really have nothing to do with aizen. unfortunately, he’s not my easiest muse, and i don’t want to force interactions with him.  - With what type of Muses do they usually work well with?:  characters who have opinions, some political involvement, in general characters with whom aizen had a dynamic in canon. 

- What interests your Muse(s) in general:  reading, calligraphy, philosophy (especially in-world philosophy), science (again, mostly related to the specificity of the bleach universe), the very careful crafting of his plan- - What do they desire, is their goal?:  kill the soul king and take its place, destroy the institutions of soul society, subdue them. and then rule, as the soul king never did before. - What catches their interest first when meeting someone new?:  the idiosyncracies in their behavior, the particularities, their possible weaknesses.  - What do they value in a person?:    very little, usually. he may appreciate a resolute personality, strength, and intelligence. - What themes do they like talking about?:  speaking mostly of mundane talks, he likes conversing about his interests. it takes a lot for him to share any personal information, though. - Which themes bore them?:  anything about the greater good, friendship, love, very human topics.

- Did they ever went through something traumatic?:  seeing the soul king, in all things like a ghost stalking his dreams, and well ... spending his early life in rukongai as a whole. being forced to consume other souls in order to survive. the first times his reiatsu killed anyone who tried to get near him.  - What could possibly trigger them?:  it’s rare that he will outwardly show signs of distress, i’d say almost impossible. the few times the soul king still appears in his mind, greatly upsets him though. - What could set them off, enrage them?:  the soul king gets him particularly heated. urahara, as we witnessed. after his defeat, ichigo, to an extent. - What could lead to an instant kill?:  kubo was a coward who didn’t dare let him kill any relevant character, but actually aizen kills very liberally.

- Is there someone /-thing they hate?:  the soul king, urahara. he has a strong disdain for yamamoto, and that joke of C46. - Is there someone /-thing they love?:    himself. tousen

Is your Muse easy to approach?: YES / NO. - Best ways to approach them?:  he’s only really easy to approach for bleach characters, who, depending on who they are, have different eligible verses to further facilitate the interaction. humans / powerless bleach characters can’t really interact with him tho. - Where are they usually to find?:  soul society or hueco mundo. i have a verse set in the wandenreich.

Something you may still want to point out about your muse?:  aizen is not a particularly easy muse, but it’s part of his overall mosaic to be somewhat unapproachable and distant. i’m not out to make him someone he is not, so forgive me in advance if plotting with me turns out to be difficult in a way or another. he’s very dear to me, and i try my best to do him justice! while my main headcanons may not affect our interactions specifically, i still ask my partners to look them up (they’re linked in my about page) because they’re essential to my portrayal and it makes me happy to have them acknowledged. i think that’s all lmao. come visit me over at my quincy boys too.

CONGRATS!!! You managed it, now tag your mutuals! ♥

Tagged by:  @skyvar​ I DID IT AT LAST. Tagging:  i don’t know who has been tagged so, you know what to do.

[bewaretheundead91]

Michael Langdon (prior to outpost) X Reader 

Ages will change over time If I continue leading to outpost Michael.

Summary: Y/N is a Senior in high school, her parents made her move from their large modern home to an old house, perfect for a restoration project, in an old neighborhood. Murder House dwells just across the street from her. During a fall night, she is dared to go check it out.

A/N: I suck at summaries. This isn’t really edited or meant to be taken too seriously. Just something fun I wrote quickly. I like to imagine different ways Michael’s plot could have gone. The third part of my other Michael fic should be posted today or tomorrow.

I guess let me know if you like it and want me to tag you in the next update? 

Dare

It was the weekend before halloween and y/n’s folks were out of town. To celebrate some alone time without the parentals, y/n hosted a bon fire in her backyard after the big game. The football team had just lost against their rivals and y/n was even happier that she had a place everyone could just relax. Theater kids to cross country runners to football players to debate team members were in attendance. There was even an aspiring DJ, with a set up on the back patio blasting their latest mixes. And this kid was good. Y/N’s parents had money, money to buy old houses and to do whatever they wanted with them.

Y/N grabbed a beer from a cooler next to the DJ set and looked up into the darkening sky,  above, circling were large black birds. They were going around and around forming a dizzying cyclone shape over the house across the street. With a quick twist her beet was opened and she took a long swig. Keeping her eyes up at the sky she made her way down the wooden steps of the patio, past her large in ground pool, and down toward the controlled fire in the center of her large back yard.

“Hey Y/N!” Someone shouted colliding with her shoulder. “Watch out!”

“Oh sorry dude,” She laughed blinking her eyes and moving her gaze from the sky to a girl she recognized as someone who sat behind her in pre calc. The girl looked up and lifted a brow in confusion. “Just a little distracted tonight. Enjoy the party! Pizzas in the house.”

With one last glance up, Y/N made her way to the fancy fire bit her mother put in and sat down in a foldable chair. She took another sip of her beer and just watched as her peers danced in the background, drinking too much cheap beer, and trying to appease their unstable hormones with a quick hook up. The thought of college apps wafted around in her head.

“None of that,” One of her friends shouted, he sat down in a neighboring chair. His girlfriend came trailing behind him giggling. She was drunk. “You made the perfect score on the ACT and you’re going to get into the first college you applied for.”

“Yeah Y/N,” His girlfriend agreed. “You’re like hella smart.”

“I don’t know guys,” Y/N said looking up at the sky again. The birds were still swarming. “Jake aren’t you a little nervous about getting in and Leah aren’t you afraid for your future?”

“Y/N,” Jake said. “We are, we just understand that we need to let loose while we still can because the big bad college is going to suck our souls from us with all the homework we’re about to gain. You’re parents aren’t home you should be living it up more than those drunk stumbling marching band kids in the corner of your kitchen.”

“You’re right!” Y/n took another sip of her beer and looked back at her lit up house. Two kids were attempting to make out. She laughed.

Surrounding the fire were her closest friends, all from different clubs and organizations on campus. They were popular, there was no denying that. Y/N though popular, was only made so due to knowing her closest group of friends all of her life. Also having parents with money and an occasional plane to through big parties didn’t hurt either.

“So tell me about this old house your family decided to move into?” Jake asked. “It’s really old. Like made in the late 1800s old.”

“My mom has this thing for restoration, you know that,” Y/N said fidgeting with her oversized denim jacket. She pulled the sleeves of her long sleeve stripe top out from the cuffs of the denim. “Nothing weird happens here. It looks creepy, but noting happens here. Like at all.”

“Yeah right,” Another friend spoke up, it was her friend Cally, a softball player. “Let me guess you’re barely sleeping. Or you're sleeping with the lights on.”

“Honestly nothing happens here, it’s just really fucking old and everything creaks.” Y/N says annoyed. She downs another sip of her drink. She was starting to feel buzzed. She hated being a light weight.

“That’s the ghosts dude,” Jake laughs. “If you hear creaking at night, it’s the ghosts making themselves known.”

“No I think that’s just old floorboards and door hinges needing to be greased up.” Mac cuts in, Cally’s girlfriend, another softball player.

“Nothing happens here, but the old house across the street that’s a different story.” Y/N perks up an eye brow.

“Murder house right?” Cally shouted with a spark in her eye. “I’ve heard about that house.”

“We’ve all heard about that house,” Jakes girlfriend chimed in.

“I didn’t know about it until I moved across the street from it.” Y/N says shaking her head.

“But aren’t you like into spooky shit?” Mac asked. “Vampires and zombies.”

“Doesn’t mean I’m into true crime and murder,” Y/N challenged. “But that’s how I know my house isn’t haunted and well the one across the street is.”

“What are you saying?” Cally asked.

“Am I the only one noticing the birds swarming above and across the street?” Y/N says.

“It’s dark and everyone has had a bit too much to drink so probably,” Jake said looking up. He looks up and he jumps in his seat. His girlfriend falls to the damp grassy ground. “What the hell?”

“Maybe something died there,” His girlfriend says. “Like a cat or someone hit a deer.”

“Do those look like buzzards to you Leah?” Y/N asked. “Because they look like crows to me.”

“Okay it could just be a weird weather pattern.”

“This is LA, what is weird about the constant sun and smog?” Y/N asked. “There isn’t even barely a breeze.”

“But how does having a lot of birds flying around your house make a claim house being haunted, other than the fact that a lot of people died there?”

“I don’t know maybe the fact that a lot of people died there?” Cally said. “Not just died, but like murdered.”

“Let me continue with what I was saying,” Y/N said annoyed. She quickly chugged the remaining liquid in the glass bottle she held and through it at the fire. “I’ve seen lights on in the house at night.”

“Faulty wiring.” Mac huffed and crossed her arms.

“I’ve seen movement behind the curtain covered windows. When the lights are on, I’ve heard screaming, a boy screaming,” Y/N says pointing toward the direction of the house. “I also remember waking up around 3 in the morning to see people dressed in cloaks standing on the front lawn of that house.”

“Have you thought about just going over there and peaking in the window?” Cally asked. 

“Uh, no.” Y/N said bringing her jacket around herself tighter. 

“I dare you to.” Cally said with a smug look across her face.

“Why don’t you do it?” Y/N said shooting her a look.

“I’m not their neighbor, if someone actually lives in that house you can just say were checking up on them. Mention something about there being break in or noise complaints.”

“Uh, we are the noise complaints,” Y/N pointed to their friend blasting music. “That wouldn’t make sense.”

“Well you can’t back out of a dare.” Jake said.

“We are not even playing a game!” Y/N said.

“We just started,” Mac said with a lifted brow. “You can do this. I’ve got a bat in my trunk that you can take with you just in case.”

“What is she going to do with a damn bat against a ghost?” Leah asked.

“That’s not the point,” Mac said. “You’ve got yourself a keeper here Jake. It’s just in case actual people are in the house.”

“If I do this, you all owe me a coffee fix for the rest of the semester.”

“Deal.” They all said in unison. 

“And Cally, I want your lace up, high top boots.”

“Not happening.”

Y/N stood in her front lawn with a metal bat in hand, her friends were behind her. Her entire front lawn and street were lit up by street lamps. They casted a deep orange glow, but that same glow that lit up her lawn never touched the lawn across the street from her. She looked down at her shoes, new Vans that had yet to be completely broken in, with it’s white details against the black still very white. She quickly bent down and tied the laces tighter, hoping to not trip over the long laces.

“You’re stalling,” Jake shouted. “Just go. We’re right here man.”

“Shut up Jake!,” Leah shouted and Y/N heard Jake groan when an elbow hit his side. “You’re going to wake the neighbors.”

“Oh they are still awake. We are loud as hell,” Mac said. “But you are stalling.” 

Y/N looked back at her friends and gripped the bat until she felt it slide against her sweaty palms. She checked her phone battery life, it was at 75%. She let out a sigh and slid it into her back pocket. Before stepping into the street she looked both ways, the whole street was lit up with street lamps and there were no signs of cars. She walked faster wanting to get the whole dare over with. They said to look in a window, but not go in. The door probably wouldn’t be unlocked.

Once on the unkept property an odd feeling creeped down her shoulders to her feet. She swallowed hard and took in a heavy breath. Quickly she turned around leaving the house at her back and saw her friends had walked closer to the street and shot a thumbs up beneath the lights. Y/N nodded and took out her phone, she turned the flashlight app on and lit up the property from it’s darkness.

“I’ve got this,” She whispered to herself. “I can do this, no one lives here and It’s just me looking into the windows.”

Y/N walked toward the house, cautiously looking at the over grown bushes and weeds that that created irregular shadows against her phone light. From the corner of her eye she thought she saw a figure and flung the light toward the direction. The light exposed moss and vines swaying on their own.

“What the fuck,” She whispered. “There’s not breeze.”

Another movement came from out the corner of her other and she flung the light towards it’s direction. When the light hit the area she swore she saw two little girls, but nothing was there. The light of her phone had exposed a window that she could peek in. She shook her head and practically hopped over toward the window. 

Once the light of her phone his the window she took a peek in. The house, though old and supposedly vacant,  looked clean and lived in. She propped her phone against the window with the light directly against and cupped her hand against the glass.

“This doesn’t make sense,” She said to herself. “No one lives here.”

Y/N grabbed her phone and walked away from the window. She jogs over toward the front door and decided she wanted to try and go in. She could hear her friends shouting for her not to go in. She grasped the door and it opens. Heat from the house hit her like a fever hot flash.

“What the?” She says. “Why is it so hot?”

The feeling she felt turned into churning anxiety at the pit of her stomach, but she took a step into the house anyway. The door behind her shut slowly and it made her jump sending her further into the house and dropping her phone.

“Turn around and leave,” A faint voice whispered. She flung her head to the side where the sound came from. It was more like a gentle draft. “Gooo”

She bent down to collect her phone. After picking it up she checked her screen, it had not been shattered. She was thankful for phone upgrades. After examining for damage she shined the light to illuminate the place. She was in the foyer right now and could see an opening to a larger room. Sweat began to build at the back of her neck and she could feel it dripping down in-between her breasts. She yanked the denim jacket off and flung it against a wall.

“Turn back.” Another whispered.

“Who’s there?” Y/N shouted walking through the opening of the room she flung the light of her phone everywhere. In the room were leather couches and a wooden desk. “How long has this been in here?”

“Leave now…”

“If you’re a damn ghost show yourself.” Y/N’s voice began to shake. She pushed up the sleeves of her shirt feeling too hot. Her hair began to feel soaked by the sweat now. “It has to the be alcohol. I’m drunk. No one is there.”

She walked until she found a stairway. It was grand and beckoned for her to go up stairs. Before she could take a step she she heard a dripping sound against the wooden floor and felt something trickling down her nose. Her head swam from the heat and alcohol, her stomach churned with anxiety, and now her nose bled in reaction to it.

“I must be really anxious.” She spoke to herself trying to calm down. “It’s an old house. Old hoses make noise. We know this.”

Y/N nose only bled when she was really anxious. She watched as another drop of her blood fell to the hardwood floor and splash back up. She internally cursed at herself. Now she had defaced property. 

She went up a few steps toward the upper level and the whispers became louder taunting at her. All shouting, leave, get out, and he will wake!

“He?”  Y/N asked shaking her head, her head now pounded with a pressure and pain and she felt as if she would vomit. She swayed a bit on the step she just took and the metal bat lazily slipped from her sweat drenched palms. “Who.”

She hazily looked up toward the stop of the stair case and caught a glimpse of a teenage boy wearing nothing, but boxers. His hand placed in his hair. He tilted his head to the left and examined her. Y/N jumps and her body lost it’s balance. Trying to regain it she took another step, but then stumbled backwards. She fell backwards and landed at the bottom with a quiet thud. With her eyes still open watched as the stranger ascended down the steps toward her. She tried to get up and to grab her phone, but her head still pounded. More trickling of blood tickled at her face, this time at her left temple. 

“Shhhh.” A voice cooed. And Y/N collapsed backwards toward the hot ground.

She was in and out, she felt like she was floating. Y/N opened her eyes to see her head was resting against the strangers bare arms and her leg dangle against his other. His blonde shaggy locks gently swaying in her face. There was a peculiar expression across his face. She breathed.

“Shhhh.” The stranger said again, the expression turned into a sympathetic smile. 

Y/N passed out in the strangers arms.

[urflowersdied]

cold as ice(d coffee), part two

In which Norah’s super serious, but incredibly soft-looking, café-owning boss Harry might be warming up to her and she is trying desperately to hold onto her sanity.

Read Part One here!

A/N: I am aware that it’s been so long since I posted the first part and that I’ve absolutely failed at my attempt to pull through with my first series, but finally the second part is here. I’ve struggled so much writing this but I’m really looking forward to move onto the third and last part now! Special thanks to my loves @isitjamiemoriarty and @harryfeatgaga. 

Hope you enjoy!

Norah was absolutely baffled. Not because she had gotten an amazing night of sleep in Harry Styles’ guest room - after she stepped into it and saw that it looked just as cozy as the rest of his house she had kind of expected a comfortable night’s sleep. Once Harry had quietly left her to her own devices, Norah had set her alarm clock for a different time than she usually would have, keeping in mind that it would take her some extra time to get to her classes due to public transport. Not long after she forced her eyes shut and after getting over the initial iffy feeling of resting under her boss’ roof she ascended into the weird realm of dreams.

But when her alarm blared and Norah awoke to the particular smell of french toast, she felt a little (or rather, quite a lot) confused. On one hand, she hadn’t expected Harry Styles to even be awake at this time of day - it was around 6:30 am -, given that he was basically his own boss and had earned himself the right to wake up at whatever time he fancied. Then again, Norah figured it might be a little unsettling housing a guest that you don’t really know at all. So the fact that he was actually awake quickly started to make sense to her.

What Norah couldn’t wrap her head around, though, was that he seemed to be cooking. Actually cooking breakfast. And she didn’t want to assume anything, but she was also fairly certain that Harry Styles was preparing breakfast…. for her. That realisation alone made her a little panicky. She really hadn’t expected any interaction with him at all, much less a shared meal that was no doubt going to turn out more awkward as opposed to enjoyable.

Once Norah actually gained enough courage to leave the confines of the guest bedroom she entered the kitchen, just to catch a glimpse of her actual boss - she still couldn’t believe whose house she found herself in -, already adorned in his usual soft sweater and trousers combo. The still-wet strands of his hair did not help the weird, unidentifiable feeling rising in Norah’s stomach at the sight of Harry whizzing around his kitchen. Not knowing how else to signal her presence, she cleared her throat, although she quickly figured that he must have heard her footsteps descending his wooden stairs only a handful of moments previously.

“G’morning. Sleep well?”

As hard as Harry tried to sound nonchalant, Norah saw right through his shaky-at-best facade. He was experiencing the same thing as her in that moment: a horrifying degree of awkwardness and uneasiness. Nothing between the two of them was easy or comfortable - especially not after his little fit in the café kitchen a while ago. He had apologised and she had accepted his exclamation, but forgetting about the incident was a task Norah had not yet completed. But in order for  this encounter to go over a little more smoothly, she wouldn’t necessarily mind pretending.

“I actually did, thank you once again for… letting me crash.” Nora took a few tentative steps forward and rested against one of the unoccupied counters in the kitchen. Not knowing what else to do with them, she decided to cross her arms in front of her torso. Nonchalance didn’t seem to be her strong suit either, at the moment.

“It’s alright… You hungry?”

About a minute later the two of them sat across from each other at Harry’s small dining table, quietly munching away at the plates of french toast he had prepared for them. Norah wasn’t really sure how to instigate any kind of small talk. The silence just stretched over their figures, dangerously close to actually nestling and finding a home for itself.

And then Harry spoke up, dispersing the cold, heavy feeling of silence with his utterance of a few words. In between some mouthfuls of breakfast foods, he addresses her. “Actually been thinking of adding this recipe to the menu at the café… What d’ya think?”

Norah was grateful for his conversation starter. She took her next few bites with more consideration, trying to actually discern the flavours and textures. His meal tasted good, no doubt about it, but she couldn’t help feeling a little unenthusiastic about the recipe. “It’s really good! Just… maybe… I guess you could try adding some different flavours? Standard french toast is nice, for sure, but… everyone’s got it, don’t they? I really like making them with eggnog for example. Those actually delicious.”

The only reaction Harry provided her with was a small shrug of his broad shoulders, before he let silence simmer once again and went back to finishing his plate. Norah wasn’t really sure what to do with that lack of response. The only thing she was fairly sure of at the moment was that she somehow couldn’t really wait to step onto the train and complete this little side-adventure her life had programmed for her.

The days passed by and everything in Norah’s life seemingly returned back to normal. Her interactions with Harry returned to a seemingly non-existent amount after he dropped her off at the station once they had completed munching on breakfast. She even managed to catch all her trains on time - although this had probably something to do with the new scheduling system, in which she never had to work a closing shift in complete solitude.

Midway through the month of April Harry had informed his employees that he was planning a little renovation for The Brewing Pot. In the team meeting he had described it as “nothing big, just a fresh layer of paint and maybe some new furniture. We’ll also do a little rearranging of the book section and see which ones are left over that we’d like to donate.” Norah was thrilled by the prospect of giving the space a fresh look. There was something about interior design and decorating that soothed her soul immensely. The idea of giving the little shop a makeover just in time for summer brightened her mood immensely.

All of the possibilities of how to transform the space currently swirled through her thoughts, much to the dismay of Adam. “Earth to Norah. Earth to Norah!” A little disoriented, her gaze finally focused on his exasperated facial expression. This was her break for goodness sake, why did he feel the need to pull her out of daydreams involving paints and carpets and plants and…

“Can you taste this please? Harry wants to switch the menu up as part of the renovation and I’m trying to get this recipe down. The last few times I tried it Margot said it sucked and I’m scared he’ll fire me if I can’t figure this shit out.” With those words, Adam slid a plate right under Norah’s nose and if he thought this would be a successful attempt at rousing her from any mind excursions than he was sorely mistaken.

Because now Norah stared down upon Adam’s version of a perfectly decorated french toast and if her thoughts weren’t running overtime before then they surely were now. She had not mentioned her little sleepover at her boss’ house to anymore, least of all Adam. Quite frankly, Norah was a little nervous this information would have set the rumour mill in motion and that Harry’s annoyance with her would’ve returned. She was in no place to lose her employment, especially because she finally started to feel familiar with the store and her colleagues.

So even though she had not been able to completely suppress the little fantasies that crept into her mind on certain extremely lonely nights - because, let’s face it: witnessing Harry Styles stood in his kitchen, wet strands of hair dangling in front of his face and looking incredibly soft and sleepy, yet still sternly serious, was not an easy memory to keep at bay -, Norah had kept all the details to herself. This led her to sometimes feel a little delirious, debating the possibility of the whole encounter being a fever dream, a figment of her imagination, something that had never actually occurred.

Yet, the deliciously sweet-smelling breakfast food that now graced the counter of The Brewing Pot’s deserted kitchen (Adam and Norah had decided to arrive a little bit earlier so they would be able to squeeze in a little gossip session before opening) was a gut-wrenching reminder that Norah hadn’t imagined anything at all. Harry had, indeed, been debating over adding french toast to the menu of his café, and he had asked her for advice. She wasn’t exactly sure what that meant, but it sparked a little emergence of warmth in the belly.

To not agitate her friend any further, Norah took hold of the fork that rested next to the plate and shoved a mouthful between her lips. She knew Harry’s recipe already, seeing as he had made it for her himself, but she tried to put on a good show for Adam. Initially slowly chewing and trying to figure out if Adam had done a good enough job on his attempt, Norah quickly grasped at straws to remain nonchalant.

“I’ve actually never made french toast like this, but I think it’s quite interesting isn’t it?” Adam continued going on a rampage about his thoughts on the recipe, explaining to her which ingredients he usually added and how many times a week he actually makes it. But Norah could not bring herself to intently listen to him, rather taking a few more bites of the dish and trying to find her voice.

Luckily, she didn’t need to keep the facade up for much longer as her phone alarm notified her that it was time to open the doors of The Brewing Pot. Adam grabbed the nearly empty plate, searching Norah’s face for any kind of indication of what she thought of his cooking skills. She stood upright and managed to look him straight in the eyes. “I think you did a wonderful job. It tastes great!”

Then, with a small smile gracing her lips and a certain flavour profile resting on her tastebuds, Norah got to work.

Preparations for the renovations were in full swing, with The Brewing Pot being open for its last week before the doors would be closed for two weeks. Norah was looking forward to the breath of fresh air, not only through giving the new look the café would experience but maybe even more through the process of actually renovating the space.

Norah and Adam had offered their services for the paint job that needed to be done and were both excited to ruin some old clothes in the process. Harry had chosen a lovely cream colour in order to get rid of the darker tones currently tracing the walls of the café, which she believed would do the trick in creating a more friendly atmosphere quite nicely.

In the lead up to the renovation, Harry had been a more present boss than before. He’d tried to figure out what the customers and employees cherished about the place as well as which parts could be improved upon. He had even placed a jar on the counter, urging anyone present to recommend some tunes which would create a more comfortable ambience. And Norah would not be Norah had she not made use of this opportunity, filling out multiple little slips of paper with some of her favourite songs which she believed would please workers and clientele alike.

Her recommendations included a range of songs by Paul Simon, Talking Heads, Joni Mitchell and Carole King. Norah figured that oldies would suit the place quite nicely - she could far too easily imagine her boss perusing the four walls of his own store, lightly bopping his head to the rhythms, watering the abundance of flowers present and checking up on the stock of the bookshelves. Needless to say, her little daydreams had not subsided.

It seemed as though Norah’s fantasies weren’t far from reality, though. After completing her temporary last shift, she lingered around the employee break room for a little while longer, trying to pass the time before her train journey. She hadn’t expected anyone to enter the room, seeing as all other present colleagues were in the middle of their shifts. When the door flung open a little bit too suddenly, she couldn’t help but jump out of her skin a little bit.

Norah had not experienced another one-on-one interaction with Harry in the past weeks, nor had she really aimed for it. Sure, he hadn’t really left her mind, but the awkwardness that being around him brought to daylight was enough for her to distance herself if it proved to be necessary. And based on the expression portrayed on his face, Harry had not expected a run-in with this exact employee either.

“Sorry for… bursting in. I was actually looking for Karen but I guess she’s… not in here. Sorry.”

And Norah believe that was that. The encounter was over, she would have magically been spared another memorable encounter - even if those seemed to be exactly that for all of the wrong reasons. She didn’t even try to come up with a way to reply to his flow of words. To her, this interaction seemed completed.

Yet, Harry must not have reciprocated that feeling, because before his figure distanced itself through the doorway it had emerged from, he left her with some parting words. “‘I Feel The Earth Move’... Nice choice. One of my personal favourites. Maybe I’ll put you in charge of the music from now on, seems like you know your way around a playlist.”

It took Norah a few moments to gather her wits before exiting The Brewing Pot and beginning her commute home. Truthfully, her thoughts were all over the place once more. Recently she felt as though she had entered some form of alternate reality. A warped version of the day-to-day routine she had become accustomed to.  

On the surface nothing had really changed. She put a lot of work into all domains of her life; academic, professional and social. But she could not, by any means, successfully analyse Harry’s behaviour towards her, which proved to create a little tornado of chaos in her mind and soul. She had been attracted to him on a purely physical level ever since her job interview - there was no way to deny this blatantly obvious fact - but his distant attitude and ghost-like presence had been incredibly helpful to not get caught up in the fantasy world which crushes could create.

But she couldn’t help noticing Harry’s behavioural shift which had recently occured. It was subtle, sure, yet Norah was unable to deny that a wind of change had swept through their relationship - however it could be defined. Harry tried his hardest to make an effort to reverse the damage his outburst had caused, in his own special way. And while trying to avoid a headache leaning her head against the vibrating train window, Norah figured that her hardest task to date would not consist out of juggling university, job and the few friends she had managed to accumulate in her circle.

Rather, she would need to place all her energy into keeping feelings, which were simmering on low heat in her belly, from overflowing and spilling out into all crevices of her being.

The task she had set for herself seemed ridiculously harder to fulfill as time went on, much to Norah’s dismay. During the renovation period of The Brewing Pot Harry had not exactly helped matters. He offered her a handful of tentative smiles, gave her control over the music as promised, and even complimented her and Adam’s painting skills.

A week along, here she found herself; at the re-opening celebration, tending to the drinks station and marvelling at the amount of people that had actually showed up. She didn’t really know anyone apart from a few regulars that had visited the café during her shifts, but it seemed as though all her colleagues were much too preoccupied chatting away with a variety of different folk rather than completing their tasks.

The only figure her eyes could not distinguish in the weavings of the crowd was Harry’s. Him not being present and socialising during this special occasion seemed incredibly odd. But there was not enough time to dwell on his whereabouts, seeing as all the glasses available to her had run out and Adam - who was supposed to take care of all possible dishwashing needs for the evening - was stood in the corner seemingly trying to entertain his girlfriend. This situation forced Norah to abandon her station, grasp as many of the abandoned glasses she could locate and quickly duck into the kitchen.

Her goal to enter and exit as quickly as possible vanished the second Norah laid eyes on Harry’s back. And for only the second time since she’s known him, he seemed all but calm and collected. Yet, she had never seen him like this. She deeply wished Harry would be rude to her again. That he would get a little angry for no apparent reason at all and put her in her place. Because, quite frankly, seeing Harry visibly upset - his shaking frame was enough indication - made her lose the little grasp on reality that she would previously have claimed to possess.

She wanted so badly to do… anything. To speak up and ask what had bothered him to this extent, but her voice had been left in the main room of The Brewing Pot. Norah felt incredibly vulnerable, and she wasn’t sure how that was even possible when she had her gaze fixed on someone who was clearly in worse shape than her. So, of course, because it was just her luck, the building sweat on the palm of her hands caused two glasses to slip out of her grasp and shatter on the floor. “Shit. Fuck. Shit. Sorry. I’m.. so sorry. Fuck!”

With his wide eyes, dishevelled hair, trembling statue and blanched skin, Harry looked like he’d seen a ghost. Norah’s surprise entrance definitely had not helped matters to calm his frenzied mind down in the slightest. She wasn’t really sure how to proceed. There was absolutely no need to ask the standard question of ‘are you alright?’ because a denial from him was clear as day, even without any utterance of words. Deciding to take things step by step, Norah gingerly placed the remaining classes on the nearest counter and rushed back towards the entrance door to the kitchen. And then she locked it.

Even though he probably did not yearn for any company at this point in time, she figured that making sure nobody else barging in was a necessary step of damage control. She had already seen him, there was no need to deny that she hadn’t. Grabbing the little dustpan and brush set out of a cupboard, she cleaned up the mess she had created mere seconds ago and finally dared to look towards her worse-for-wear-looking boss again.

Without saying a word - she had a feeling Harry wasn’t really in a conversational mood anyway - Norah started her dishwashing task. Apparently someone had done at least part of their job for the evening, because she had an array of dirty glasses to clean. After she nearly burnt a layer of skin off her hands, she adjusted the temperature and attempted to skin her hands into the soapy water for a second time, just to hiss once more and .

As Harry gently pushed her to the side and wordlessly demoted her to the drying portion of dishwashing, she couldn’t help but feel elated. If he was still able to assume his role of neurotic boss, then all hope wasn’t lost. And if his following quietly muttered exclamation was anything to go by, then maybe staying around to offer Harry some company was not as bad of an idea as Norah had suspected.

“It’s… someone I used to go out with. I didn’t invite him but I guess that wasn’t enough of a hint. Do you... remember that wedding a while ago? Y’know, when… When I behaved like a total prick to you?”

Of course she did. Norah wasn’t sure she would ever be able to completely forget how she just aimed at making light conversation with her boss during the preparation of a wedding-sized order of cupcakes. But whereas she previously struggled to at least fully forgive, there was now no doubt in her mind that she understood his outburst that day more than she ever thought possible. Not really wanting to disturb his well-needed moment of release, Norah simply hummed and tried way too hard to keep her focus on the dish towel in her hand.

“I’m not really gonna… go into it or anything. It’s personal, you know? But… The things is, I don’t even know why I reacted like this. The relationship ended so long ago. I went to their freaking wedding. But then he shows up here with his wife and I get all freaked out and have to hide in the kitchen like a loser.” Harry swallowed harshly.

She believed him. There was no need not to. She could feel how frustrated he was that there was no rational explanation for his reaction. The man who cherished sanity found it impossible to wrap his head around the confusing and disorienting feelings of a love lost. Even when that love had fizzled out a long while back. But, as a self-proclaimed romantic, Norah wasn’t surprised.

“Listen, I’m not going to pretend like I can… fully understand what you’re going through, right? I really don’t know what it must feel like. And you might not even be interested to hear my take on this. Nonetheless, I think your reaction isn’t crazy. I might even call it absolutely normal.” Harry did not make any attempt to disrupt her flow of words, so Norah continued, growing a little more fervent in her proclamation. “It must just be weird, seeing someone who was a close part of your life now sharing someone else’s, even if you’re not into that person anymore. But it seems as though you were just… genuinely surprised. You’re not a loser, you simply weren’t... prepared for the situation.”

For a while, the kitchen of The Brewing Pot filled with silence. Yet, unlike the encounter the two of them had shared in the kitchen of his house, the situation was anything but awkward. Harry seemed pensive, appreciative even, of the few words of support she had offered him. Both of them seemed to be aware that this interaction marked a shift in their relationship, and neither of them would object.

“Thank you Norah.”

Stood side by side, the two of them continued cleaning up the filthy glasses. All the while, Norah couldn’t help but face the damning realisation that if the warm feeling coursing through her whole body was anything to go by, she was absolutely, utterly fucked.