#august horn x reader

[fbfh]

I’m so glad I’m not the only one that wants August Horn. He’s just so pretty 🙈

HE IS SO PRETTY!!!!!!!! He looks like hutch dano (in peak zeke and luther era) mixed with someone else I can't put my finger on. His hands. His fucking hands. God his hands.

The thing with August is that any little things you can do to throw him off, to bruise his ego a little, to make getting what he wants (you) not a cake walk for once in his life, you absolutely should do. Not only does it interest him, but he's had everything handed to him on a silver platter for so long, everything has always been easy, without a fight. But you?? You're challenging him. You're elusive and mysterious and you're playing a game with him, one he intends to win. Every time you challenge him, every time you push his buttons and bite back, every time you don't fold for him makes him want you more. He's never had someone rile him up so much, make him lose his composure. You're not making it easy for him, he's never had to work for anything this much, and he's never wanted to before now. Before you. His friends keep telling him to drop it, but he can't now that he's had a taste. You've made easy into boring, and August does not like being bored. You're releasing vasopressin in his brain for the first time in his life, and now that you've opened those flood gates, there's no going back. Now every time you push him, make him work for it, he gets more and more attached. When this building storm of sexual tension finally breaks, when he finally does get you, he is not letting go.

[rustedhearts]

i can't quit you, baby (70s!steve harrington x fem!reader)

summary: steve doesn't like the thought of you spending time with another man while he's gone. but doesn't steve know?—he's the only man for you.

uses she/her pronouns and female anatomy.

✶ rolly's roller wheels ✶ blurbs ✶ the only living boy in indiana

tags: smoking but in such a sexy way, jealous steve, fluff, smut-ish at the end, just something short and sweet. ignore that it changes tense like halfway through, I simply cannot edit right now.

for thea ⭐️ thought 70s!steve deserved a little love. hope you enjoy! thank you for supporting me <3

wc: 1,204

august 1978

The windows are open when Steve gets home, letting in sticky summer air and blaring horns from the street below. Your new apartment was two stories above a busy Indianapolis street, and with that came all the city noises that you still struggled to sleep through four months post-move. And without sleep, you became restless.

Without Steve, you became restless. And a combination of both—after busy work days for Steve that kept him from dinner and bed—you were absolutely insatiable.

"Sweetheart?" Steve calls, dropping his keys on the coffee table on his way to the kitchen. "Where are you—oof!"

You throw yourself into his arms, knocking him off kilter until he braces himself on the wall. He envelops you once he registers the assault, chuckling into your neck.

"Hey, honey. Missed me?"

You sigh contently, rubbing your cheek on his cologne-and-sweat-scented chest. "Mhmmm."

"Well gimme a kiss then, sugar."

You giggled on your journey toward his mouth, kissing it with eager tongue and a little whine. You're barely five seconds in before Steve furrows his brows and pulls away, nudging you back by the waist. Eyes fluttering open, you frown at him and try to tug him close.

"Why do you taste like that?"

You laugh again. "What?"

Steve narrows his eyes. "Whose cigarettes have you been smoking? Huh? They're not mine."

Cheeks warm, you wriggle out of Steve's grasp and pluck the rag you were dusting with from the counter. "What? I haven't been—"

"C'mere. C'mere, sweetheart, who've you been smokin' with?"

Steve follows you, and you giggle through the scampering cat-and-mouse chase around the living room.

"Steve, I haven't—no, no!"

He catches you when you attempt to leap over the coffee table, one strong arm anchored around your waist. He pulls you down, sweeping you to his side and spinning you around until you're giggling and batting at his hands.

Steve decides to spare you and sets you on your feet, waiting until you've caught your breath and your cheeks stop hurting before tugging you close by the chin. He kisses you again, firmer and with writhing tongue.

When he pops away, he shakes his head and huffs. "I fuckin' knew it—Camels. Whose fuckin' Camels have you been smokin'?"

"What?" You place your fingers on your lips again. "How can you even tell that?"

Steve wags a finger in your face. "I know my smokes, honey, and you're avoiding the question."

Sighing, you retrieve the rag from where it fell on the floor and take it to the end table to dust under the magazines.

"I was hanging out with Dalton earlier. We had a smoke on the roof."

Steve's hands find his hips, eyes following your ministrations throughout the room. "Oh, you 'hung out?' You just hung out with some dude while I was at work?"

“Not some ‘dude,’” you argue, eyes rolling into the lamp shade that you readjust. “He’s one of the only neighbors that’s introduced himself, and that’s actually been nice.”

Steve tips his chin down, eyes slanting to a glare. “Yeah, because he wants to get in your pants.”

“I resent that, Steve Harrington—and why would you think sharing a cigarette with him would mean anything?”

Your boyfriend mutters under his breath, and when you turn with a quirked and accusative brow, he grumbles and turns on his heel. He stomps into the kitchen, where you hear the rattle of the refrigerator and the hiss of a beer can opening soon after.

“I don’t like that you’re here hangin’ out with random guys while I’m gone,” he calls through the wall.

“Excuse me, what year are we living in? We didn’t move to the city so I could be the little woman, Steve—“

“I never said that!”

Your bare feet pad into the room, where it’s your turn to pop your hand on your hip and glare at him.

“It was implied.”

Sometimes, it was hard to remember the days when Steve was just your best friend. The best friend that teased and ridiculed you, and the best friend you teased and ridiculed back. Until moments like this when it all came flooding back. When you fixed him with an attitude and a fiery stare akin only to when he forgot to pick you up from school in the snow, or said something stupid and out of line when you were eighteen years old.

You were grown now, but he didn’t seem any smarter.

Steve’s tongue clicks on the roof of his mouth, sweetened with his first sip of Miller Lite. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to imply that, sweetheart. I just…—it just makes me….—I just feel—“

“Jealous?”

Steve lifts his hand in an empty gesture. It smacks down onto his thigh when he drops it, shoulders shrugging shortly after.

“Yeah! Yeah, maybe I am.”

Your glare coils into a cocky smirk, teeth digging into your lip. You drop your hand from your hip and step his way.

"Aw, Stevie," you coo, words dripping with mockery. "How cute—"

"Psh," he scoffs, head turning when you come to brace it with your hands. "Yeah, yeah."

"You're jealous of the neighbor? That's sweet, Steve, really."

He tips his head back to the ceiling and shakes it. "Jesus, you're not gonna let this go."

You take the new position as an invitation to press your mouth against his neck. He swallows under your touch, fingers curling tighter around the countertop behind him. Your teeth scrape the soft and musky flesh of his throat, giggling when he shivers. You press a firm, open-mouthed kiss to his jaw, under his ear, down the column of his throat, over his collarbone at the top of a tight navy t-shirt. He's so full and muscular these days, and you can't help but run your hands over the broadness of his pecs.

Steve's hands fall to your ass, sliding into the back pocket of your jeans. You squeak, squished up against his front when he tugs you in.

"Only want you smoking my cigarettes," Steve demands, voice hoarse with arousal.

You guide your mouth back up to his ear, kissing the shell of it delicately. "Okay, honey."

"Promise?"

You pull back enough to meet his eye, and flash him a smile. "Promise. Now, you gonna show me how jealous you are, or what?"

Steve chuckles, tongue prodding the inside of his cheek. "Go grab my smokes for me first. By the door, hmm? Wanna see how pretty your lips look wrapped around one."

You pause. It's your turn to swallow, cheeks warm as you stumble back. Steve's grin is salacious and sideways, head tipping to nudge the other way.

"Go on, baby."

Steve steals the Winston from your mouth just as you're climbing into his lap, deciding you look prettier without it. But before the smoke can leave your mouth, he grabs a fistful of your hair at the back of your head and seals his lips over yours. He steals it from your lungs, sitting back against the headboard with a grin when you whimper.

"Tastes much better than Camels," he muses.

And watching Steve leisurely smoke a Winston is all the encouragement you need to keep bouncing in his lap.

[butterfly-writer]

HEY OMG IM GLAD YOUR REQUEST ARE OPEN!! . Okay so I saw that CLASS 1A x Nomu!Male!Reader oneshot and I was really good !! And I was thinking about one where the M!reader likes Bakugo (he my fav) and he just follows him where ever he goes and Bakugo just don’t mind at all, he even give him head pats , even feed him some of his food. Everyone is just shocked how Bakugo is acting

A New Friend or Pet?

Katsuki Bakugou x Nomu!Male!Reader Summary: Class 1A, loving their new addition to their class, couldn’t help but notice by the fact that their new Nomu friend seems to have a favorite… but who knew it would be the angry blonde?

★☽A/N: REALLY?? I honestly didn’t have much fun making it, but thank you so much!! <33 And I, too, love Katsuki Bakugou <33 Anyways, I’m still recovering from the fact that BNHA is ending in August 5 with their last chapter :(( BNHA had been a huge part of my life and I’m worried that I would grow out of BNHA and have a different favorite :(( But, still, I will forever love BNHA and will help continue the fandom!! Of course, not in the ykyk way…. Especially the tampon thing… ALSO! I CAN’T BELIEVE THAT TOGA IS DEAD, SHIGARAKI’S DEAD, AND DABI/TOUYA IS ON HIS WAY TO DEATH?? I LOVE THEM SO MUCH, PLEASEEEEE HORIKOSHI!! AT LEAST LET DABI STAYY, HAVE ERI REWIND HIM OR SOMETHING.

Contents: FLUFF

── ࣪˖  ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

For the next few months, Y/N have been a really friendly and quiet person. Even though he doesn’t talk much, he expressed his emotions using his tail and ears! His ears would twitch in embarrassment, tail wagging in excitement, tail between his legs in worry, guilt, panicked, his tail would be on guard, like a cat, when he’s angry. Of course, his tail would be low if he would be sad.

Everyone in class found him adorable! Like a little puppy! Mineta wouldn’t stop being jealous, saying how he couldn’t believe that all the girls were falling for him! Of course, his statements were ignored by his classmates.

But lately, some of the students had noticed Y/N following around a certain blond…

—

“Stop following me, dragon!” Katsuki yelled out as Y/N tailed behind him. Katsuki was starting to get really annoyed by the dragon-like Nomu boy. Every single day, he had followed the blond to everyone.

Class? He’s right behind him!

Cafeteria? Save Y/N a seat! He’s coming with!

And Katsuki was slowly getting really pissed, always lashing out at Y/N who reacted to it. He didn’t even seem to mind! Every single punch and slap goes unbothered by the Nomu! All he did was stare into Katsuki’s eyes. Katsuki slowly got creeped out, and it’s not common for the blonde to get creeped out by something! But Y/N’s glowing pools of gold-like yellow was giving him shivers down his spine.

He thought, ‘If I continue to ignore him, he’ll leave me alone!’ But he surely thought wrong. Because he got used to the Nomu following him around, considering his wings adjusted and shrinked along with his tail and horns to look less menacing. Even if the blonde didn’t want to admit it, he actually enjoyed having the Nomu following around.

It might’ve even boosted his ego! Having a Nomu following him around made him look powerful- like he just tamed a beast! Even though it was like Y/N had tamed the beast named Katsuki Bakugou.

And slowly, he started to treat the Y/N like a pet. A friend pet, perhaps? Watching the menacing aura that surrounded the poker-faced Nomu follow the tempered blonde around was a rare sight to see. And by now, Katsuki didn’t mind at all!

Sometimes, if he had treats given by some girl or his friends, he would give it to Y/N who happily accepted the treats. Sometimes, if Katsuki was eating chips, he would grab one and offer it to Y/N who ate it out of his hand with a small smile.

And, when the blonde was bored, and out of curiosity, he would give Y/N head pats. It could be anywhere! In class? The black haired Nomu would sit beside Katsuki on the ground and the blonde would pat his head during class. The Nomu’s hair wasn’t exactly the smoothest, it was soft and fluffy when no one helped him with his hair.

And Katsuki, the ever feminist he was (Thank you, Mama Bakugou!) he would braid Y/N’s long hair. It was always a long braided tail that matched his own scaled tail. At the dorms, Katsuki would offer his food to Y/N which distracted him while the blonde braided his hair into a long braided tail.

Everyone was surprised at how calm the blonde was, a total opposite to his tempered side.

But, no one dared to comment and just let the blonde have fun with his new raven-headed friend.

── ࣪˖  ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

[realcube]

YAKU MORISUKE THIRST

a/n → inspo x y @4unnyr0se. ik his bday isn't until august but really everyday is his bday!!

tws/tags → age gap (yaku is 30, reader is ~20), vaginal, breeding, foodplay (kinda not really) & impactplay

hearing his footsteps hobble down the stairs, in a typical lazy morning fashion, you hide behind the table, peering over the top of it so that when he turns the corner to enter the kitchen, you can jump out and yell,

"surprise!" while blowing into your party horn.

yaku appears to be mid stretch, but falters when he hears your cheer, a small smile creeping onto his tired features. "what's this?" he rasps.

you motion proudly to the cake you had made that sat in the centre of the kitchen table, adorned with a single flickering candle. "birthday stuff! come, make a wish."

he sheepishly hides behind his palms as he makes his way over to the cake, "honestly, i forgot about my birthday."

"that's alright. memory loss is normal part of aging." you blow into the horn again as encouragement for yaku to proceed, but the sudden loud noise only causes him to wince, along with your cheeky comment.

"i'm not that old!" he argues, and you simply nod.

"you're right. you don't look a day over forty." you pinch his cheek and he rolls his eyes, glancing between you and the cake, subcontiously trying to decide which looks more delicious.

you hadn't changed out of your pyjamas because you wanted to be quick in preparing his surprise, and of course he wasn't expecting this at all which is why he was also still wearing his night shirt and shorts.

your hair was a mess too, you hardly had time to do it so it was currently thrown into a loose updo, with strands hanging down in front of your face. it was so sweet, and you were so cute even when dimly illuminated by the weak light of the candle; it was like you were glowing.

yaku was lost in his thoughts, staring at you, until you pulled him back to reality by asking, "make your wish. you're not getting any younger." you giggle, and he exhales sharply in huff.

"you're not getting any younger either, y'know."

"but i'm already young so that doesn't really matter."

"are you saying i'm old?" yaku tried his best to seem offended, but he struggled to suppress the wide grin that gave him away.

you shrug, averting your gaze, also doing your best not to burst out into laughter. "if the shoe fits."

"well let's see if the shoe fits up your ass!" he roars, stepping around the table to swing his leg up in your direction, to which you promptly jump away from, defensively swatting your arms at him.

"yaku!" you yelp, stumbling back against the kitchen counter.

he chuckles and you wear an expression that is a mix of irritated and amused. "make your damn wish!"

in between wheezy cackles, yaku hunches over a chair and blows out his candle, an steamy darkness engulfing the room as he does so. it's 5AM, so it's not especially bright outside, but the moon shines just enough that you can make out his toned silhouette in it's light.

he saunters towards you and captures your lips in his for a kiss charged with passion and love, he pulls you in close by your waist, and lets his hands wander downwards to grip your thighs. his soft lips work against yours in a rhythmic yet desirious manner, only parting for a gasp of air.

you meet each other's heavy gaze for a moment, until you lean forward and rest your head against his strong chest. he whispers into your hair, "thank you, baby."

you smile, eyes fluttering shut as you feel his hands trail over your supple skin, "don't thank me yet. i haven't even gave you your present."

"oh, sweet girl." he momentarily tightens his holds on you and presses an open-mouthed kiss against your neck, "i don't need a present. you're all i want and more."

you can't help but blush a little at his kind words. your hand finds his and you interlock fingers, as you slowly guide him under and up your shirt, so he gets a feel for your lacey undergarments. "i think you need this present."

he perks up at the realisation, a sly smirk tugging at lips as he feels you up, "you're right."

upon hearing his agreement, you keep a hold of his hand but pull away from the embrace, in order to guide him to the bedroom. however, he jerks you back towards him, his firm hold your lower back keeping you in place.

"no, baby. here." he commands, lifting your top up, and you instinctually raise your arms. once it's off, he tosses it onto the floor and bites his lips at the sight of your new lingerie. how it holds your tits so nicely, and covers just enough to make him want to rip it off.

naturally, he squeezes your waist as he pounces at your tits, indulging in the soft sensation against his cheeks and getting high off your intoxicating scent. he kisses up from your tits to your neck, occassionally stopping to leave love bites. one his hands eagerly slides down your shorts, and you kick it away, leaving you in the skimpy lingerie panties.

he takes a greedy handful of your ass, kneeding the flesh while his mouth keenly works at leaving a deep hickey on your neck. you moan, arching your back against the table and pressing your tits against his chest. "yaku.."

once he's satisfied with the mark he's left, he stops, only to grip your chin and force you to meet his gaze. "(y/n)?"

you're barely able to stay off of each other for a second, as you insantly slam your lips against one anothers again. he leans into your with such vigour and utilises his grip on your thighs to spin your around and push you down against the kitchen table, right beside the cake.

you moan into the heated kiss as your back makes contact with its cool wooden surface. he pries away, so he can stand at the edge, with your legs situated on his shoulders. two of his fingers delve between your folds, rubbing widely through your labia to soak up your juices and hooking around the fabric of your panties to move it aside.

"s' wet.." he muses, admiring your exposed figure beneath him, "such a good girl. dressed up all sexy for me." he prods at your enterance, pressing down to tease you without slipping in yet.

"got me so hard." he says while pulling down his shorts to free his length, aligning it with your pussy. "you gonna help me, (y/n)?"

you nod silently in response, but then shut your eyes tight and whine as yaku squeezes his tip inside your aching hole. a low grunt is brought out of him in response to your tight walls enveloping him, so snugly. it's like he couldn't breathe, you've truly knocked the wind out of him. he's inclined to force himself all the way in, he wants every inch of you, but he likes seeing you squirm when your desperate for more.

"since it's my birthday," he pants, watching heave of your chest and twitch of your neck. "can i cum inside?"

you nod again, and this time a shriek is prised from your throat as he pushes himself in all the way, his thick cock piercing into you. "perfect." he groans, establishing a steady yet zealous pace, "so good t' me."

even with each forceful buck of his hips, his weary smile doesn't waver, as he's entirely enamoured by the way your tits bounce with each thrust, how your nipples threaten to escape the confines of your black lace bra.

that's the least of your concerns though, as your focussed on coping with the sheer amount of pleasure yaku sends surging through you. his cock drills relentlessly into your pussy and you find yourself out of breathe at how your walls have to contort to fit him all inside you. you can feel every movement; each drag of his dick and jab of his tip.

it's so addicting, your eyes flutter shut and you throw your head back, starting to lose yourself in the fog of lust and bliss. though you're hastily snapped back by a harsh sting of pain against your thigh, brought on by the swift slap of yaku's palm.

"fuck." he groans, biting his lip to prevent the further stream of profanities and mindless comments about your gorgeous body or the obscene things he wants to do to you.

he continues to pound into you, observing your lewd facial expressions with a smile, "feels good, baby?"

the only intelligble reason you're able to give is a brief nod of your head, and a meek, "yes.." which is likely drowned out by your moans. yaku gets the message, though, there's not a sign on you that he'll ever miss.

something heavy grows in the pit of your stomach, until you felt like you were on the verge of exploding. "yaku, 'm close." you mewl, to which he rapidly nods in agreement. "me too."

his pace becomes wild and feverish as he nears an orgasm, the way his dick hungrily slams into you draws you closer to your own climax. his thick tip, leaking with precum, scratches an itch inside your tender walls that you didn't know you had.

soon enough, the heavy pool inside you begins to overflow; it's euphoric, your eyes roll back into your head and your entire body tenses to cope with your sweet release, accompanied by an elongated moan.

and of course, watching you come undone around his firm cock resulted in yaku spilling his seed into you shortly after, grinding his teeth togther as it happens. the sensation of your homey walls encasing him and his own fluids was like nothing he's ever experienced before, and his breath hitched as he was forced out.

being the first time he's ever left his load in your pussy, he wants to make sure he does it right. thus, he reaches down between your legs and pushes his cum deep into you, not risking any of it leaking out. once he's done, and notices his fingers are coated, he hovers them in front of your lips and watches as you lick them clean. observant as ever, he notes the slightly grimace that crosses your features at the taste.

he chuckles and digs his finger into the cake that's right beside your head so it is covered with frosting, which he then shoves into your mouth. he slowly drags it back out, amused by how thorough you are. "that taste better?" he inquires.

"mm." you furrow your brows in thought, "no. too much sugar."

[writingismyfortune]

new look | dan heng || honkai star rail one shot

published on august 9th, 2023.

pairing: dan heng x reader

genre: fluff

word count: idk, but it’s kind of short?

synopsis: you woke up to your boyfriend, dan heng, in his new form. that’s the gist of it.

warning: lowercase is intended! there’s some slight spoilers from the new story quest (not from a lore standpoint. it’s in terms of bosses and dan heng’s new look). dan heng’s new look has me on a chokehold fr.

hazy vision, heart rate is accelerating…your head is spinning…the strong stench of your blood…your shallow breathing…that’s what you can only focus on.

last time you recall, you were fighting phantylia in her little domain along with general jing yuan. then next thing you knew, your vision went black. the flowers she summoned continues to drain your life, weakening your strength even more. general jing yuan was concerned for your health before the fight, but you said that you were fine.

general jing yuan trusted you, so he allowed you to fight along side him to defeat this lord ravager. he did have a feeling that he shouldn’t have done that though. but you were so persistent on helping jing yuan that he couldn’t say no. that determined look in your eye was so strong and powerful.

before you completely passed out from exhaustion and your injuries, you saw this cyan colored dragon come from the ground…? where did that…come from? who is this cyan dragon? seems like it finished the job of defeating phantylia though.

a tall figure appears in front of you before you completely passed out. his long black hair flows down his back…he stands in front of you protectively…is this a god hearing your blessing? what is going on exactly? who is this guy? why is he protecting you? why is he look so hot- (a/n: just like me fr)

but before you could even process what was happening after phantylia was defeated, you passed out. what a good time to pass out…

without knowing how much time has passed, you woke up in someone’s arms. your vision still a little blurry, you rub your eyes a little to adjust your vision. looking up, you’re met with…oh wait, you remember this guy. recognizing his cyan horns, you wondered if you’re actually dead or something.

staring at him up close, you realize how gorgeous this guy is. his cyan eyes look alluring to look at. no, you’re still loyal to your boyfriend dan heng. however, you can’t help, but admire his features. the gods above must’ve gave him the special treatment. you thought you were in heaven, so you ask a random question out loud.

“am i dead…?”

the unspecified dragon guy looks at you funny, as if he’s silently asking you what do you mean by that question. not only that, he’s confused why you’re asking such a question.

“you’re perfectly alive, [your name]. i was extremely worried about you. you should’ve stayed out of that phantylia fight after you fought off those marastruck…” he responds to your question. wait, how did he know that you were fighting some marastruck soldiers…? there’s no other way…unless…

“what. how did you know that? i am dead, aren’t i…you’re some unknown aeon, aren’t you?” the dragon looking guy looks at you with his eyebrows furrowing, he’s so confused.

“did something hit your head? you’re spouting complete nonsense again,” he asks you. he continues speaking, looking up at the clear skies. “to be fair, you’re always speaking nonsense from time to time. not only that, you did just woke up. anyways, phantylia is defeated now…hopefully xianzhou is safe now.” he said lightly with this slight hopeful tone in his voice. he adds this sweet line after, which completely makes your heart skip a beat.

“and i’m relieved that you’re okay, [your name].”

huh…so this dragon guy knows your name and he’s also very sweet with you. that’s kind of suspicious, you thought. in addition, this is the first time that you’ve seen him in your life. so really, you find this weird. but do you mind it? kind of, you feel like you’re cheating on your boyfriend, dan heng. well, at least you’ll have stories to tell once you come back to the astral express.

you can’t wait to tell dan heng what happened today…you considered that he might get slightly jealous over this dragon dude though, which you are excited to see.

you grab your phone and start texting dan heng, telling him about your adventures. you then hear a ringtone from the dragon guy’s pocket…

the dragon guy grabs his phone and looks at the notification he just received. you stare at the phone case…you’ve seen that phone case before…that’s the same one that dan heng has.

that normal black phone case? yeah, you can recognize that bland ass phone case from anywhere. you tried to convince him to change it into something more cooler, but dan heng didn’t want to as the phone case is still functional.

the dragon guy then looks at you, one of his eyebrows raising in curiosity.

“[your name], why did you send me a message when we’re literally next to each other? you could’ve just told me your adventures face to face…you don’t have to text me about it.”

“huh, what did you say?” you responded, your expression immediately looks confused. and then…oh shit.

that’s when you realized…that’s when you connected two and two together…wait a minute.

“wait…you’re dan heng?” you asked the dragon guy. in reaction to your question, his cheeks immediately flushed. his eyes dart to the side, avoiding any eye contact with you.

“no way. you’re actually dan heng…like my boyfriend, dan heng?” you ask again, your eyes are wide in excitement. they sparkle in delight.

“…i know i look different, but yes. i’m the dan heng you know and love, [your name].”

“oh my aeons.” you said softly, clearly still very flabbergasted to know this fact.

“i was scared you wouldn’t like my new look…but i had to confirm it with you.” dan heng exclaims. his eyes look elsewhere, deep in thought about something. then he looks at you, he’s slightly pouting. it’s very subtle, but you know it’s there.

“you didn’t even recognize it was me…do i really look that different?” he asks you. “i can’t change back to my original form even if i wanted to…” he adds.

you shake your head without hesitation with this knowing grin on your face.

“you do look different, but not in a bad way. in fact, i think i dig this new look actually.”

dan heng clears his throat at your bold compliment, trying to keep his composure. you stare at his cyan horns, in which, he notices.

“do you want to touch my horns?” dan heng asks you as he puts you down on your feet. he brings his head down a little, letting you touch them. he looks at you expectedly.

you look so excited to touch his horns, your eyes sparkling. glancing up at dan heng, you ask him if he’s really okay with you patting his horns, for a final confirmation. dan heng gives you a nod with this warm smile, saying that he’s perfectly fine with you patting his horns.

and so you reach over and pet his horns gently…they were a little rough around the edges and they’re very dense and strong. they have a similar texture to horns of a goat or a reindeer, if that makes any sense.

you notice that dan heng’s big, cyan dragon tail is wagging a little…it’s clear he enjoys you patting his horns like this. finding this cute, you continue patting his horns gently, your fingers moving along his strong cyan horns.

“your touch is very gentle, my dear.” dan heng says softly, his cyan eyes look at you with warmth. you continue patting his horns, a satisfied grin on your face, clearly happy to see that your boyfriend is comfortable.

“you know, before you identified yourself, i felt like i was cheating on you…even though there wasn’t anything happening.” you said, still patting his horns. “i mean, i found you attractive…but it appears that it was you all along, dan heng. turns out i just fell for you again~”

dan heng’s cheeks go a little red again hearing this, but he’s very happy to hear that. it appears he softens up with it comes to you. otherwise, he isn’t easily flustered…it’s just that his reserved demeanor falls right off when it comes to you.

in addition, your touch makes him turn into putty. he’s so whipped for you. he’s also glad that you love this new look of his…maybe he’ll keep it around for the time being (once he finds out how to change back), just to see your excited smile again when you pat his horns. he loves it when your eyes light up when you touch his horns, your soft and gentle touch full of affection and love.

back then, he wasn’t very fond of this new look as it reminded him of his treacherous past that he ran away from. but now…it seems like…

it seems like he has a reason to love this new look. you made him love himself even more. not only that, he continuously falls for you little by little every single day.

his new look doesn’t only define his past anymore. it defines his future too. it's now something that makes you happy. for once, he appreciates this new look of his.

maybe his new look isn’t so bad after all.

end of one shot. next chapter: n/a

[thebearer]

I know u have a billion requests but I'm dying fir a carmy x reader where she goes into labor

i have one here with willow but i'll write a first time one too with teddy!

Carmen knew it was coming soon, which is why he hovered. Why he rarely let you be alone, the thought of him missing it or something happening made him sick. Tina and Sugar both told him it was a long process, there's no way he'd miss it, but he was still anxious. Worried about a lot of things, thoughts that kept him up at night. Would he be a good dad? Would the birth go ok? What if something happens to the baby? What if something happens to you? What if he gets in a wreck on the way home? What if the baby died in her sleep?

Thoughts that had him throwing up all hours of the night. Your morning sickness was traded in for his own, worrying himself to the point he was sure he had an ulcer.

The phone rang, a Tuesday in August. Still sunny and warm, but with the golden glow that hinted fall was coming soon. Carmen was so busy, trying to approve the new seasonal menu, and for a moment his mind had slipped of all those anxieties. Until he heard your voice.

"I think I'm in labor."

"You think?" Carmen barked, harsher than he meant it to, a wave of guilt flooding over him. "What-What-What do you mean think? Are you ok?"

"Well, my water just broke." You frowned, looking at the puddled under your swollen belly. You paused, a hesitation laying thick in the air between the two of you over the line. "I think it's time."

Carmen was a wreck, swerving and punching the gas in and out of Chicago traffic to get the the brownstone, parking up on the sidewalk, HOA be damned.

You were calm, eerily calm to him, as he threw your bags, all your birthing things into the car, carefully helping you in. "Fuck!" Carmen huffed, hitting his horn for the third time in five minutes.

You gripped the side of the door, trying to breathe like your birthing coach taught you. "Carmy, please." You sighed, regulating your own heart rate. "Stop honking at people before we get shot."

"I'm just... Fuck, you know you think these fuckers would see hazard lights on and move, but everyone's so goddam stupid-"

"Carmen," You grabbed his hand lightly, thumb gliding over his inked fingers calmly. "Just relax. I haven't even really started having contractions, ok? We'll have time." How was it you were in labor and you were the one comforting Carmen? He felt like a jagoff, could practically hear Mikey and Richie's chorusing voices calling him that.

"I'm sorry." Carmen muttered, slumping back into the seat. "I'm just... I'm really fuckin' scared." His knee bounced, hand twitching towards the Spirit's in the center console. It was muscle memory, to reach for the cigarettes when he was anxious. He chose the gum instead, trying his best to cut back for when the baby was here. In case she'd have asthma or something else, and he just didn't want to teach her bad habits.

He wanted to be better. Be better.

Sometimes he wondered if his parents ever had ambitions like that. To be better, do better for their kids. If they did, they didn't stick.

"I know you are." You cooed lightly, running a hand through his damp curls, sweat accumulating at his hair line already. "You're gonna be a good dad, you know that?"

"I hope," Carmen smacked the gum with a shake of his head.

"I know." You beamed at him. "You already do so much for her anyways, and she's not even here, Carmy." He didn't say anything, just kept a white knuckled grip on the wheel, his free holding your hand.

"The only thing you'll be bad at is saying no to her, Carm. I already know that. You're too much of a softy." You giggled, poking him lightly in his bicep.

Carmen's lips twitched, the hints of a smile on his lips. You could feel the wave of a contraction, not overwhelming but uncomfortable, squeezing Carmen's hand lightly, shifting in pain. "What? Are you ok? You good?" Carmen's eyes darted from you to the road.

"Just a little contraction. I'm fine." You sighed gently, rubbing your free hand over the spot you could feel Teddy kicking. "They're still pretty spaced out, so we've got a while."

Carmen let out a shuddered breath, lips quipping in a smile. "She's takin' her time, already? We're doomed. She's gonna be just like her Mama. Late for everything."

You gasped, hitting his shoulder lightly. "And here I was being nice to you!" You bit back a smile. "I am not late for everything. I'm on time for the important stuff. Just late for the things I don't want to go to."

"Signing our marriage license?" Carmen lifted a brow. "You didn't want to do that-"

"-No, no, no! You dressed up and I looked like a bum, so I had to get ready!" You countered lightly, jabbing a finger at him.

"I didn't dress up! I wore jeans-"

"-And a nice button down. Not a t-shirt? That's dressing up, Carm, and you know it." You frowned at him. "I had a pair of bike shorts on."

"And you looked hot in them." Carmen grinned, eyes glinting when he looked at you, making you blush, heat rushing to your cheeks and chest. Your own nerves settling, your own what-ifs and fears of giving birth, of being a mother in general.

"Looked better in the dress." Carmen added, lifting your hand to kiss the back of your knuckles. You rolled your eyes lightly, heart fluttering. The white sundress you'd put on, patterned with a floral print but the only white dress you owned, and Carmen had swooned. Flipped it up and fucked you in the back seat after you'd signed it.

"Surprised I didn't get pregnant after that." You grinned, breath hitching at another contraction, dull but stronger this time.

Carmen's eyes cut to yours, thumb running over your knuckles at the pressure. "Can't believe we're having a baby." Carmen muttered, flicking on the turn signal, the hospital in sight.

[mcufan72]

Hello everyone!

After writer's block and some changes in my life (mostly good ones), I'm finally able to write again. I can't believe that the last lines I wrote for my Loki fics were in July/August 2023. Unbelievable.

Here is my new multi-part fic!

It's a modern AU, I will use MCU characters and facts incorrectly and Loki will be as I want him to be. The Multiverse is open and I do what I want. Those who have read my other stuff know what I mean. So if you don't like it, don't read it. This story will contain morally grey stuff (or not, I don't know. What exactly is morally grey? But nothing too bad happens here or without consent. It's still a love story), fluff, angst and eventually smut…so 18+ only, please!

I also use random names/characters, they have nothing to do with the MCU, they're a product of my fantasy. They are inspired by real-life people and also the plot might be inspired by real-life experiences (not every part of the plot, please keep that in mind). So please don't steal my stuff, use your own experiences and let them inspire you. I also did some research but without a guarantee of completeness and accuracy.

Here is the first chapter of my new fic. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoy writing it. 💚

Sugar and Cinnamon

Loki x female reader / 18+

Chapter 1

Preview here

Warnings: none so far, contains fluff, angst, and smut (eventually), it's a slow-burn love story.

“I leave."

"Yeah, good. Go home and get some rest. I don't know when I'll be back. Might be late. “

“That's not what I meant.”

“Then explain.”

“I leave the company…and you!”

“It's just a phase, darling. Take a few days off and then everything will be fine again.”

“You really don't get it, do you? It's not a phase.”

“No one screws things up with me! Not even you! ...you have six months.”

3 months later

Damn! Just damn! You were late, like always. You were permanently struggling with keeping places in time and today it wasn't any different. It was pouring rain since you had left your apartment and you were nearly completely drenched from head to toe and of course, you had forgotten your umbrella. The only protection from the rain was the high collar and the hood of your coat. You hurried through the streets of Manhattan, melding into the people who crowded the sidewalks. The city's smells and noises were engulfing you, uncountable different languages and accents were hitting your ears. On every street corner was music, played by street entertainers who tried to grab some money from the people passing by. Car horns were honking, and brakes were squeaking, the sirens of ambulances or police cars drowning out any other sounds. The whole city was buzzing and glowing, a permanent noise filling ears and streets, echoing between amazing skyscrapers. But you loved it, this was your hometown and you have been living here for five years now. You wouldn't stay here forever, surely not, but for now you would stay.

On your way to your appointment this afternoon you accidentally bumped into someone because you held your head down to keep the rain away from your face. “Hey, watch it, girl!” a manly voice scolded you. You apologized with a hasty: “Sorry”, and continued your way unimpressed. Somehow you managed to cruise fluently through the masses of people and cars and reached the building you wanted to go to right in time. You passed the doorman, who gave you a friendly smile, and the security men in their black suits in the reception area, who greeted you with a short nod. They looked much too good for your liking but you couldn't deny your attraction to tall men with broad shoulders in black suits. You had a soft spot for this kind of man. The rainwater that was dripping from your coat was wetting the floor of the entrance hall and with an apologetic shoulder shrug and a heartwarming smile on your face towards the security men, you headed for the lift.

*****************

How much Loki hated the weather today. Fortunately, he had his umbrella with him so he was protected from heaven's water. The pouring rain, the crowded sidewalks and streets, the deafening noise. He was living here in New York for over twelve years now but it seemed to some things he would never get used to. He surely wouldn't stay here forever but for now, he still had to. Normally he wouldn't go out on the streets when it was raining like this. No one would go out voluntarily in such weather. But he got a call from a negotiating partner, who asked him to meet him at a café in the early afternoon to inform him about a few details. And some conversations were better made personally than by phone. The meeting wasn't a long one and his conversation partner Mr.Miller had already left but Loki was still sitting in the café, sipping on his espresso. “Damn it!”, he murmured under his breath, annoyed about what Mr. Miller had asked of him.

Mr. Miller was an extremely old-fashioned, elderly man and he told Loki for his next event, a business dinner, he would like to see him with a female companion. Every other guest would bring their significant others too, there wouldn't be just the dinner, there would also be some dancing afterwards and how sad it would be if he were there alone.

“Please, bring your significant other, too. I don't accept a no!” Mr. Miller insisted.

Loki knew exactly when it was better to not discuss a negotiation partner's wishes and so he agreed. Sometimes you have to make concessions if you want something to be successful. Now a solution had to be found. Loki didn't have any female friend he could take with him on such a date. It must be someone trustworthy, someone who could be silent as a grave, someone who could keep secrets. In the best case, someone who did it professionally. He would never ask any of his former affairs, not to talk about that his last affair was some time ago. He pulled out his mobile phone and did some research. Over the years he'd learned to appreciate his phone as a daily companion. Using apps on your mobile phone made your life easier and finding a solution for nearly every problem was easier with it as well.

Shortly after starting scrolling through several websites, he found it. The solution to his problem ‘how to attend a date with a female companion’: an escort agency. Professionally escorted by a well-educated woman, intelligent, sophisticated and with perfect manners, professionally obliged to keep silent. That was it, the ultimate solution to his problem. Of course, he had to meet the woman he wanted to book for that upcoming event, first. He had to ensure that she was the right one and if she was suitable for such an event. He had no other choice so he gave it a try. He called the agency he had chosen and described what he wanted and what was required in every detail to the polite and friendly lady he was talking to. It sounded like she was smiling on the other end of the phone and it gave him the good feeling of having made the right decision.

“Okay, Sir. I'm pretty sure I already have the right lady for you. Have you heard of the ‘Vivian's Velvet’ nightclub?”

“Yes, I did."

“Fine. Then you'll meet her there at the bar at 8 pm sharp. She'll be waiting there for you.”

“How will I recognise her? I mean…”

“She'll know who you are. Please send me a photo of you and then I can forward the image to her. Please don't get me wrong, Sir but we handle it this way because we want to guarantee our ladies a way out in case they want to refuse a meeting for whatever reason and at any time. Even if they are already at the nightclub. It's for the safety of our ladies. I hope you understand.”

“I do. It's what your ladies deserve and I respect that.”

“I'm glad to hear that, Sir. Thank you for understanding. Would you please give me your name so our lady can address you correctly?”

Loki hesitated for a second. In his business sometimes it was advantageous to use an alias and he would hold on to this tradition here.

“My name is Luke Larsson.”

“Thank you for your kindness, Mr. Larsson. If you have any questions or if the lady I've chosen for you is not for your liking, please don't hesitate and let me know. I'll look for a new lady for you then. We aim to satisfy you completely at any time. And please don't forget to send me your photo, Mr. Larsson.”

“I'll send it immediately.”

“Of course, Mr. Larsson and I wish you an enjoyable evening. Thank you for choosing and calling us. Goodbye, Sir.”

“Goodbye, Ma'am and thank you for your excellent service.”

“You're welcome” and with that, the call ended.

He did what was required of him and he sent the agency a photo of himself. To book a lady at an escort agency was an expensive matter but money was no object. He had called the best escort agency in the city and only the best was what he needed.

He paid his bill and left the café. The streets were still crowded, rain was still flooding the streets and slightly ruining his leather shoes and his slacks. On his way back home a hood-wearing person with a lowered head, drenching wet from the rain, bumped into him. Why couldn't people watch their way, he thought angrily.

“Hey, watch it, girl!“ he scolded. He wasn't sure if it was a woman, he just assumed it. He barely heard the apology of the person and he immediately regretted his harsh words. He turned around to apologize as well. But the person who ran into him had almost completely disappeared in the crowd. He could just catch a short glimpse of the shoes the person was wearing. ‘Nice colour’, he thought and disappeared into the crowd himself. In a few hours, he would meet the escort lady who probably would accompany him to his next business dinner.

***************

With a ping, the lift's door opened on the 25th floor where the agency had its office. The word REA was written in large, finely curved golden letters on the big white, opaque glass door, right above the golden door knob. REA was the acronym for Rhea's Escort Agency and you had to ring a doorbell to get in. The interior was simple but very elegant, bright and inviting at the same time. Smooth jazz music played in the background and created a comfortable atmosphere. A large white leather couch was invitingly positioned close to the floor-to-ceiling windows, framed by exotic green plants and a coffee table. Behind the front desk sat Rhea, the owner of the agency, on the phone, talking to one of the other escorts. She beckoned you with her hand getting over to her. After you approached her desk, she opened her mouth with a soundless dismay when she saw you in your dripping wet state. You could just smile at her with a shoulder shrug. You took off your drenched coat and hung it on the coat rack. Shortly after, she ended the call and rounded her desk to hug you.

“Jeez, girl…look at you. What happened , dear? Did you take a swim and forgot your towel?”

“Kind of.” you answered and laughed.

“Sit down, lovely. You must be freezing. I'll get you a towel and a hot drink. Some Tea?”

“Yes, I'd fancy a cuppa“, you said with a sigh of relief and you were glad to drink something warm now and to dry the front part of your hair with a towel.

“Here, darling “, Rhea said when she came back from the restroom and kitchenette which were both located at the back of the office, invisible to clients.

“That's much needed now, thanks, Rhea. You're my saviour.“ you answered with a thankful smile and took a sip of your tea before you began to dry your hair. You immediately felt much better. Rhea sat down again in her chair opposite you and opened the appointment calendar on her laptop.

“I'm glad that you made it to the office, y/n. The weather is really horrible today but I needed to see you personally.”

“Did something happen? Did a client complain? “ you asked concernedly. You hoped not, you needed this job and you always gave your best.

“No no, don't worry, darling. Everything is fine and that's what I wanted to tell you. Every client you have escorted so far has been happy and satisfied. You're booked up for this week except for the weekend, as you wished. So based on your successful dating and our clients’ satisfaction, I can offer you a higher hourly rate.”

“Oh, really? Oh thank you so much, Rhea, that really means a lot to me. I need every dollar I can earn.” You meant it, it was the undeniable truth.

“I know, dear and you know you could increase your income further by being booked for the weekends as well.” Rhea reminded you.

“Yeah, I know but I need the weekends for personal matters. Those are important too, I'm sorry.”

“Don't be sorry. Your personal matters are surely important and I know it's none of my business. But please let me know whenever I can do something for you, okay?” she said softly.

“No one can help me, I'm afraid. But thank you for your kind offer, I appreciate it,” you replied, well aware regardless of how much you'd work, even if you worked 24/7 you still wouldn't earn enough money to solve your problems. But you had to try and that was what kept you going.

“Okay…so…are you spontaneous, dear?” Rhea asked you while looking for her work mobile phone on her desk.

“Ahmm…yes”, you answered hesitantly.

“Good, because I got a request 30 minutes ago and already made an appointment …and based on the requirements of our potential new client I think you perfectly fit him.”

“Okay, where will I meet him and when?”

“At 8 pm sharp at ‘Vivian's Velvet’. Walker will drive you like always. It is more a casual meeting with our client to get to know each other so please dress appropriately but not too chic. Classy will do…a black cocktail dress would be fine.”

“Yeah, no problem. How does he look like and what's his name?”

“Waaaiiit…ah now…sent you a photo “, Rhea explained and a second later your phone vibrated with an incoming message.

“He's eye candy, a jackpot, a real cherry on top, the icing on the cake…and his voice…he could read the phone book to me. But the most important thing, he sounded nice. Maybe a bit arrogant but nice.” Rhea gushed.

“A jackpot you say? Let me see…” and with these words on your lips, you opened the file. You nearly dropped your phone. Black mid-length curly hair, a beautiful blade of a nose, a chiselled jaw, prominent cheekbones and a mouth you just wanted to kiss. But the most impressive were his piercing blue eyes which seemed to look deep into your soul.

“Wow” was the only thing you were able to say.

“I told you” Rhea laughed, fully getting your reaction towards the beauty of this man. “His name is Luke Larsson. I'm sure you won't miss him.”

“Absolutely not. How could someone miss this handsome man? Luke Larsson…is he Norwegian? “

“I don't know…his accent sounded more British. So you're willing to meet him? “

“Oh yes, I'm looking forward to it. I'll be at ‘Vivian's' at 7.30 pm so I can wait for him there.” you confirmed.

“Fine, dear. He booked you for two hours. When I get the drinks bill from the bar, your hourly rate and your share of the drinks will be transferred to your bank account…as usual. Enjoy the evening, dear. And tell me how it went, okay?” Rhea asked you.

“Of course, I'll let you know.”

After this enjoyable talk, you headed back home quickly. You had less than two hours left to get prepared for the meeting with Mr. Luke Larsson.

In less than 20 minutes Walker would arrive at your apartment to drive you to ‘Vivian's Velvet ‘. Walker was your chauffeur and was responsible for driving you safely to a dating location and back home again afterwards. In case you would spend intimate hours with a client, he would wait in front of the hotel. For your safety and to drive you home after the intimate encounter. Walker was 56 years old, a rock of a man with a buzz cut and a beard. He was an imposing figure, always dressed in a formal suit. But he had a heart of gold and you always felt safe when he was around. Knowing he was always close by when you had an appointment with a man, made you feel even safer. You knew he had a soft spot for you and he would always be there for you, no matter what. Somehow you were like a daughter to him but if you were his daughter he would never allow you to work as an escort.

You were almost ready. You were wearing a simple but elegant black, midi cocktail dress with sleeves in black lace and black high heels. With your hair parted in the middle and pulled back into a sleek tight bun, which sat deep in your neck, you created an illusion of long straight hair. You grabbed your purse from the wardrobe and after a final inspection of your appearance in your large mirror, you left your apartment.

“Good evening, y/n. You look wonderful tonight “. Walker was waiting for you in front of your house and opened the door of the black limousine with tinted windows for you and you let yourself slide into the backseat of the car.

“Thank you, Walker and good evening.“ you replied with a smile on your lips.

Walker closed the door, entered the driver's seat and drove you to ‘Vivian's Velvet’. It was one of the most exclusive and most expensive nightclubs in Manhattan with a luxurious interior in black and purple.

It was close to 8 pm and you were waiting for your date. You were excited about how he would be if he really looked that good and if you would fit his expectations. You ordered a glass of champagne to calm down your nerves a little bit but it would be your only drink tonight. As always, because you must remain in control of your senses. It was a golden rule. The men you dated were supposed to drink alcohol, lots of it, not you. It brought additional money to the hourly rate of an escort. The more they drank the more you got. The only thing that brought the most additional money was having sex with them. But it wasn't a must and you weren't interested, not in the slightest. But the day might come when you had no other choice and maybe one day you would feel a carnal desire again that needed to be satisfied. But you wouldn't do it with everyone. It had to be a special man with a special aura and he must give you kind of a feeling that you were safe with him.

A few minutes later, at 8 pm sharp, you felt someone standing behind and then next to you. A hint of a delicious scent hit your nostrils and a sizzling energy filled the air, making your skin tingle.

***********

When Loki entered the nightclub, there were already four women sitting at the bar, their backs turned towards him. Two of them were in the company of a man, two were sitting there alone so one of them was supposed to be his date, he assumed. Because he didn't know what the woman he had booked looked like, he went over to the bar and ordered a drink, the most expensive Scottish whisky the club had to offer. Next to him to his right side sat a woman on a stool, dressed in an elegant black cocktail dress and black high heels, her hair in a tight hair bun. For now, she ignored him and he wasn't sure if she was his date or not. She looked stunning as far as he could see it. He didn't want to stare at her. But he hoped she was the woman he had an appointment with. She was very lovely to look at. In the corner of his eyes, he saw her sipping at her glass of champagne.

“Good evening, Mr.Larsson. Nice to meet you,” you addressed him with a calm, velvety voice and smiled at him.

“Good evening, Miss… I'm sorry but I don't know your name yet,” he answered softly but dryly.

“How would you like to call me, Mr. Larsson?” You asked him mischievously, a smile curving your lips.

“I don't think I am in the position to give you a name.”

“You're very polite and well-mannered, aren't you?”

You had difficulties maintaining your facade. He looked extremely good in that photo but in reality, this man was beyond beautiful. Inky black hair you wanted to rake your fingers through, broad shoulders, lean muscles, slender waist and endless long legs. All of this gorgeousness was wrapped in an exquisite black suit and a crisp white shirt, the top three buttons undone. You could see a hint of his chest hair which peaked out of the V of his shirt. You felt your mouth watering. He was devastatingly sexy. Now that he was reassured that you were his date he moved a little closer to you. His smell was enchanting. An indescribable mixture of fresh cotton, sandalwood, orange blossom and something spicy you weren't able to specify.

The way he leaned against the bar, his big veiny hand with long, perfectly manicured fingers holding the whisky tumbler, his other hand in his trouser pocket, had something indecent about it. You wanted to rip his shirt open and watch the buttons scatter down to the floor. You should better stop salivating over him and begin entertaining him. That was your job and he was the client you had to convince of you because you wanted him to book your service. You had to focus on your job.

“What kind of escort service do you need from me? How can I be of help?”, you asked him kindly.

He took a sip of his whisky and you of your champagne before he gave you an answer, making eye contact with you and holding your gaze. It made you inwardly shiver.

“I need a companion who escorts me regularly to functions. I'm not interested in flirting with you. I need someone I can have an actual conversation with. Nothing annoys me more than some people and their boring talk. It also should be someone who is discreet and can keep secrets. Someone who doesn't want more afterwards,” he explained, his voice dark and raspy.

“Even if you would want more afterwards I won't give it to you. I'm an escort, not a luxury call girl. I just offer you simple accompaniment, nothing more and nothing less,” you stated kindly but firmly. Good-looking or not, you would never give him the chance to get between your legs.

“I'm well aware of that, Miss”, he replied dryly. “You're an escort lady and this is what I want and what I need. And don't worry, I don't believe in love or anything related to it!”

Loki took a sip of his whisky, his gaze still fixed on you. How pretty you were. Your big bright eyes, your cute nose and your rosy lips were just perfect. Your body was perfectly hugged by your black cocktail dress and your legs with those beautiful high heels at your feet were tempting and he suddenly thought about how good it must feel if they were wrapped around his waist. Loki quickly pushed that thought aside. He wasn't here to live out his lust with you. Also, his past was dark and blood-drenched. And you definitely deserved a better man than him. Regardless of his indecent thoughts, he liked your attitude and your behaviour. A little bit of sassiness, a lot of passion and somewhere hidden deep inside of you, vulnerability and a kind of sadness. Now that he has gotten to know you he wondered how and why you had ended up in the escort agency. You didn't seem to belong there.

“Me neither, Mr. Larsson! I'm glad we see it the same way. I've sworn off men entirely. I'm not interested in a love affair with you.”

“Well, I guess we got a deal, then.”

“Absolutely, Mr. Larsson, we got a deal”.

You smiled at him and you took another sip of your champagne. He gave you clearly and precisely all the information you needed to know so you could get an idea of the business dinner he wanted you to escort him to and you agreed with the conditions. Time flew by so quickly and before you even knew it your appointment with him was over.

“So we'll meet next week? “ Loki asked you.

“Of course, Mr Larsson. Call the agency and make the appointment. It was a pleasure to meet you. I'm glad that I could satisfy you and I'm pleased that I meet your expectations “. You smiled brightly at him. You were still captivated by his incredible aura.

“The pleasure is all mine. But there's one last thing…” You looked quizzically at him.

“I still don't know your name. What should I call you? “

“Sugar. You can call me Sugar.”

🌹🥂🌃🌹🥂🌃🌹🥂🌃🌹🥂🌃🌹🥂🌃

Taglist: (please let me know if you want to be added or removed)

@lokisprettygirl @fictive-sl0th @stupidthoughtsinwriting @fandxmslxt69 @chantsdemarins @justjoanne242 @lovingchoices14 @huntress-artemiss @smolvenger @lokixryss @anukulee @wheredafandomat

[lukeywritesstuff]

Reader has a pregnancy scare over the summer at the lake house and dosent tell Jack at first so he gets mad. He doesn’t really want a child rn but ends up accepting that they will have a baby. But it’s just a scare so their are not going to actually be parents

baby? no baby.

jack hughes x reader

warning: angst, yelling, pregnancy scare, mentions of abortion, punching (m on m), vomit, swearing and suggestive sexual content (no actual smut)

note: i’m not from the states so all timing for drives and flights and stuff are made up because i’ve been trying to research how far detroit airport is from bloomington AND NO BLOOMINGTON IS COMING UP ON MAPS. i actually went a bit crazy writing this because of that. ALSO this is the first fic i’ve written in a couple years that isn’t a joke so please bear with me because it’s not perfect at all.

lowercase intended

this past week has been a nightmare, from waking up at 6:30 in the morning to throw up, to dealing with motion sickness on an airplane and dealing with my boyfriends absolute bullshit.

let’s start from the beginning: wednesday july 12th, the day i started feeling ill. it was around 5:30 in the morning the first time i threw up. that day i thought it was a bug so i didn’t think much of it. but it kept happening all week, and this freaked me out because i knew i was leaving for michigan on monday to visit my boyfriend jack and his family.

monday couldn’t have come any slower, knowing i needed to talk to ellen before anyone else, i was hoping for the day to come faster. she’d be the only one i can ask about what’s going on with me as i haven’t seen my own family since august of last year since i moved to jersey for college.

the flight was terrible but short, it didn’t help my nausea at all, specially with the turbulence, jack was late to pick me up because he left his phone at the house when he went boating with his brothers so i had to sit around the airport for a few hours. i’m not even gonna think about uber either cuz i’d rather get crushed by a plane than sit for hours in an uber with a complete stranger.

ok getting off topic here, we’ll we got to the lake house after a very uneventful and quiet drive from the airport. ellen was finishing up dinner and luke, quinn and jim were playing basketball in the driveway, which quickly came to a stop as jack pulled up smashing the horn causing quinn to (jokingly) throw the ball at the car. (it did not break at all.)

i settled in to jacks room and we ate dinner, we talked about the boys hockey and training and my school and what i’m doing after i graduate next year. jokes were cracked and it was fun, i actually forgot about jack being a bit of a dick for a good hour and a half. after i stayed in the kitchen with ellen to help clean up, jack and luke ran to the x-box in the other room probably to play fortnite.

‘el, this past week i’ve been feeling quite nauseous this past week and i was wondering if i should worry about it. knowing you’ve been pregnant a few times, i felt it was best to ask you for advice on the situation.’ i said to my boyfriends mother.

‘well if it goes on for a few more days i’d consider going to a doctor, but for now you can go to the pharmacy just down the street and try a rest or 2 if you wanna have an idea quicker.’ she said and i nodded.

‘wait you’re pregnant?’ i hear from by the counter. quinn. he heard.

‘i’m not sure. i was just about to go to the pharmacy to get a test’ i told him.

‘i’ll drive i want some gato and fuckass jack frank the last one.’ he said and i nodded.

we went to the pharmacy and got 2 tests (and a shit ton of blue gato for quinn) and we went back to the house. i went to the bathroom in ellen’s room to take them since she wants to be there for me and honestly i’m glad i did. she’s been so supportive even if it might just be a scare.

the tests came out positive. i broke down in tears and went out to ellen.

‘positive, i’m pregnant. and i’m only 21’ i said.

‘oh sweetie. it’s all gonna be okay. you’re gonna be a great mom and jacks gonna be a great dad.’ ellen said embracing me.

‘so she’s pregnant?’ quinn asked from the door. i just nod my head at him.

suddenly i hear from the hallway ‘who’s pregnant?’ and ‘is it mom? i think i’m a bit too old to be an older brother’ and then a little ‘ow’ after.

then quinn had to open his big ass mouth and say ‘no. it’s y/n. she’s pregnant.’

‘what?!’ jack yelled. ‘and you fucker knew before me? you fucking asshole!’ i heard before i see jack coke into the room angrily to punch his older brother in the face.

‘jack get off!’ i yelled pulling him.

‘i cant believe you told quinn before me! have him father your fucking kid. i don’t want it. i don’t want kids at all. specially right now. i’m at my prime right now! i don’t need a fucking baby ruining it all for me! get out of my house that’s not my kid! and if it is fucking abort it!’ he yelled while crying making me cry even more.

right after luke dragged him to his room and i can hear yelling between them as quinn and ellen comforted me in the master bedroom. todays been a lot for me so i eventually pass out in my boyfriend(?)’s parents room with his mother stroking my hair.

on wednesday, exactly a week after i started having my nausea i decided to visit a doctor to get the baby and i checked out. i haven’t talked to jack since he yelled at me so i go with ellen.

‘okay so it seems like you’re not actually pregnant and the test you took was wrong.‘ the doctor said to me.

honestly i have no idea if i’m relieved or sad. i was honestly quite happy to potentially be having a baby, even if jack was being a huge JACKass about it.

we got home and i saw jack sitting on the porch with a bouquet of flowers.

‘baby, i’ve thought everything over these past few days, and i’m actually excited to have a baby! with you! i apologize for everything i said, but it just hurt knowing quinn found out before me, because i am the dad. but now i am excited for this baby and this new chapter of our lives!’ he said smiling at the end.

‘jack, it was a scare. there’s no pregnancy. i’ve just been having a stomach bug the doctor told me. the tests were wrong too. i’m sorry.’ i said frowning.

‘oh. well i guess that means we just go upstairs and start actually making a baby, because i kinda want one now!’ jack said before pulling me in the house.

once we got up to the bedroom i hear ellen ushering everyone out, probably to spare themselves from having to hear whatever we’re getting up to upstairs.

[grapejuicestyless]

I’ll Love You, Forever.

Conrad Fisher x fem!reader

Angst

Summery: Conrad wants to become a doctor. Why should you stop that?

The platform near the train was nearly empty. It was so early, not even the early risers were up yet. It was the first train of the day but it was nearly night with how close the clock was to midnight.

My left hand clutches onto my coat, holding the collar between my knuckles tightly. I have too many shirts on. A tank-top, and a sweatshirt thats grey with the the words, Brown University, scribbled across the chest. The bottoms of my jeans are too long, so the dew wets the hems until they are soaked around my ankles.

“I’m proud of you.” I tell him, watching how his face, previously turned towards where the train will inevitably pull up turn to look at my face. He hangs his head, he’s taller and the wetness from his hair leaves tiny droplets on my skin.

I don’t really mind this. Our clothes clinging to our bodies because we ran through the passing rainstorm. How its so cold this winter that our fingers sting and our noses are numb.

“I want to help people.” He says it like he needs a reason. Like he’s thinking of staying. But he won’t, I wasted the last of my gas to get here. My car is stranded in the parking lot.

“I know.” I can feel his heartbeat under his coat when I put my hand over his chest. I can feel the cold nipping at his skin when I place it over his cheek.

When the cry of a horn sounds in the distance, he becomes aware just how limited our remaining time. He doesn’t understand just how little we have left though. I know it, but he never will. That’s how I want it.

He looks away from me, and the sigh that releases from his mouth is shaky.

“Don’t be discouraged. I’m right here. Promise.” When he looks back at me, he’s lowered himself even lower. Partly by himself, and partly at the mercy of my guiding hand that’s slipping from his cheek to the nape of his neck.

While we stand like this, I let my lips place their mark on his forehead. His eyes are fluttering shut, but I can’t find it in me to let the darkness in. I have so much time to wander within in, befriend it. I want to cement this moment in my memory forever.

I won’t be here when he gets back, I know that. I knew it when he first called me in last December talking about transferring to a medical program. I knew it in August when he told me he was going to Stanford. And I know it now that the train is pulling up, ready to take him halfway across the world.

“I’m not angry at you for leaving.” I tell him. I know he doesn’t quite get what I mean. He thinks of it one way, but within the next few months, I hope he’ll understand what my words really meant. I hope my disappearance won’t discourage him from his dreams. I hope he becomes the greatest doctor to ever live. I want that so badly for him, I might fool myself into thinking I want it more.

“Do great things, okay?” When he finally stands straight, the doors have opened. The seats are emptier than the train station.

He waves goodbye and whispers back, “I love you.” And his eyes have never looked so vibrant.

“I’ll love you, forever.” I whisper back, letting the doors consume him. He sits on the empty seat directly across from me. His eyes trace me until I’m gone. I feel them leave, I feel him leave.

I don’t know why I never told him. Maybe it was because if I told him I was dying, I knew he wouldn’t have gone. He wouldn’t have left my side, just like how he never left Susannah. I don’t want him to drive for miles, wondering if I’m still breathing.

He’ll hold it against me forever. How I never let him say goodbye, never let him try. I hope he knows just how happy I am for him. Even if he can’t see it.

I made him promise to do great things, but he already has. He gave me the best life I could’ve asked for. So I feel no regret leaving it like this. I feel no pain when I go.

[ladylaviniya]

The Negatives of Shooting People

Chapter 2 || MasterList || Chapter 4

Chapter Summary: A new job creates a new problem for August who decides he needs to remind you of his power. You let Lloyd inside, and he has an offer to make.

Chapter Warnings: 18+ Dead Dove Do Not Eat, Masturbation, Referenced Non-Con Events, Implied Illegal Weapon Arms Trading, Threats, Manipulation, Stalking Journalism.

Pairing: Kingpin!August Walker X F!reader

Word Count: 9.4k

Author Notes: in my mind and casting, Jude Driver is played by Adam Driver. Wesley Gibson is played by James McAvoy. Brandon Sullivan is played by Michael Fassbender. Katarina Vikander is played by Alicia Vikander.

Inspiring Song: "Woman." by Ke$ha.

10:23am Thursday 8th August 2024, Brisbane CBD.

“These photos Miss Y/L/N, they’re magnificent. I haven’t seen quality this good since…well…never really…When can you start?”

You grinned, sitting across from the head editor of one of the smaller local newpapers.

You knew you had to find a job quickly…you were sick of the employment agency and their unhelpful attitude. You knew if you were going to remain safe and take down the billionaire asshole, you needed to be the best version of yourself.

It had been a three days since you first met that monster... August Walker. And he had seemingly invaded your every thought. He was there in the back and front of your mind haunting and taunting you with his smirking lips and roguishly deep voice.

The gentleman who sat in front of you had no idea. That was something you were okay with, how could anyone know? No one knew. You hadn’t called or replied to any text messages Lloyd had sent.

You made a resume portfolio of your best photos you’d taken since your first camera your dad ever bought you. Both Polaroid and electronic. You still hadn’t forgotten that August had stolen one of your father’s cameras from the day he forced you to cum on the recliner chair.

You knew you were inexperienced in journalism…but your photography was a master skill unlike any other.

Your successful interview, you put it up to a great sense of confidence, as well.

“Right now if you’ll have me,” you winked. He was an older man of an older generation. Clearly he knew and was a deep fan of Australian banter that borderlines the aesthetics of flirtation. You were a young woman and he was an older man, the math was simple. Bat your lashes, pretend to be coy and then slide in with a sarcastic remark or sexual innuendo.

He laughed and leant over his desk. You shook your new bosses hand.

He liked that very much. ‘Of course he would, he’s practically old enough to be someone’s perverted uncle.’

“Oh most definitely…” he said biting his bottom lip, he was milking the banter.

He was a handsome even for a classic perverted elder fellow. John Luther was a grey fox so the ladies might say. You were sure that from now on never to truly trust a man…so when he winked back and looked down your shirt- at your chest, you smiled wider, ‘predictable men…he is going to be easy to manipulate…’

You had to thank August one day…if he hadn’t hurt and humiliated you the way he did…you would never have felt the rage of all women and the desire to use your assets to get what you wanted in this Man’s World.

You sat back a lit and lifted your chest as you gave a big happy sigh while watching Mr Luther continuously ogle your chest.

It sent a shiver even down your spine thinking about it…entering a villainess era…a femme fatale story….a tale of revenge and justice.

“I admire a woman with confidence,” he said sucking his teeth, his right hand slide down beneath his desk out of view. You had half a mind to assume he was palming his dick in his trousers.

“So how about I assign you your first assignment? See how you go? I’ll even let you choose…”

“Choose?” you asked with a faux coyness, fluttering your lashes.

“Well, we have a very interesting story idea in regards to the Woolloongabba Doggy Day care that just moved to East Brisbane, rumour has it that the business is understaffed for the amount of dogs they keep in care. And they only use half of the required sanitization required. A spread of kennel cough and many dogs having their ears ripped off by other larger dogs belonging to rich clients the owner of the doggy day care refuses to lose business towards.”

Oh dear, you noted, that sounded tragic….it’s a good thing you never had a pet as a kid. It would hurt too much to be in that position. Hearing a pet dog had its ear ripped off by savage untrained dogs.

“...And the other case?” You sweetly chirped.

His smile fell, “There’s a certain gentleman that’s running around allegedly smuggling drugs and arm deals…” he repeated, “’Allegedly’…”

He rolled back in his chair to reach for a folder on his bookshelf, flicking through it.

Your craning neck had time to catch the outline of his prick beneath his pants. ‘Oh yes...this man is putty in my hands.’ When he swivelled back, you dashed your eyes back to his desk trinkets and smiled at him.

“A bloke named August Walker selling to or buying from an old money American philanthropist Brandon Sullivan…”

‘No fucking way’….just your luck…

You were going to fucking take it no matter what….

Luther grimaced, “It’s a big task so I won’t judge you for not taking it. I’m just hoping to catch the sons of bitches at it. It would be a huge story for media not even those wankers at seven, nine or ten news could think to report.”

You reached over his desk to steal his pen and stick note pad. You took down the name he mentioned on a sticky note- Brandon Sullivan...you made sure to memorise it well.

“How about we even make those conniving morons at sky news jealous, sir?” You smirked and watched as the rockets soared in his eyes with his white tooth grin.

He laughed hard.

He wiped his hand down his chin, “I love a girl with ambition Miss Y/L/N. I’m sure you won’t disappoint me! The dead line for photos is in a week, he’s having some soiree on next Friday or something so it’s got to be before then because you’re never gonna be able to enter those clubs, chicky. Respectfully.”

You smile and shake his hand again, “Mr Luther, I swear…I’ll give you the best goddamn shots you’ve ever seen of that criminal.”

Now your man hunt had truly commenced, you smiled to yourself. Who knew that revenge could come so easily and quickly…

Luther gave you your own cubicle to work in. A place to hang and edit your photos. A place to file your evidence. He may have mentioned that the work they did in his agency was on par with the police but by no means legally police work. So if the cops arrived, you stayed hidden and kept your fucking mouth shut....

You had a job and began researching the bastards name again on your laptop, compiling the sources from Google and the notes from Luther’s folder files.

You discovered the following about August J. Walker.

He was born in New Jersey. He was twice your age and almost as old as your father. He had a plethora of connections in businesses from alcohol distillery to Chinese restaurant vendings. Actually you were confident that a restaurant he help partnership over had a familiar logo. You tapped your lip and wondered briefly if your father ever delivered there as a truck driver.

August was a fan of European and Asian based foods and sold it at his clubs. He owned over fifteen around the world. One of his biggest in Australia was The Lions Lounge, it was on the edge of Fortitude Valley. It was for the richest social elites of the country. The price of food alone was almost your weeks rent.

On the website of his club you could see information regarding the tightship of his security. It seemed supreme so there wasn’t a chance of you going to his club without a fat purse and invitation.

A party was coming up, a celebration for the ten year anniversary of its opening. A soiree with a “The roaring 1920s.” Theme. You scoffed at the cliché.

It was exclusively invite only, it was only on the website so that those who received a invitation could reply a rsvp. And with you fresh out of luck of an invite like Luther even said, there was little to no chance of clawing your way inside.

So...that’s when you had to resort to extra creativity. You held up the sticky note and smiled.

09:07am Wednesday 14th August 2024, Robertson Brisbane.

August Walker was a man with a craving to remain in power. He had fought tooth and nail to get where he was and for now he felt incredibly comfortable…he had enough money to buy the fucking country...he had the power to make politicians kneel and kiss his shoes if he demanded it. To the police, with his legal team, he was currently untouchable.

He could literally have any woman he wanted…but he wanted you. Since that night he first saw your photo, he starved. He had given you time to mourn. Now you were alone and he righteously believed you needed him.

Yet to his surprised pleasure, he liked the fight and push you tried to dish out on him. Your guts to go to the police sent blood to his cock. He hadn’t expected it. He believed you’d roll over and cry only. He never predicted you’d immediately leave the apartment before he could wish you a good morning or afternoon after leaving you drugged up. He snooped for hours in your father’s bedroom and yours. He’d flicked through your old school reports and photos. He tried tidying your mess and clutter, washing your vomit covered duvet and even had cigarette to pass the time.

So when he received that call from the police requesting his presence, instead of anger, he felt surprise. Not many could surprise him. But you did...

He pushed away from his desk and rubbed his eyes chuckling,  you were definitely a tasty little thing.

It made his dick hard when he remembered you crying beneath him. He loved to fantasise your pathetic excuses and spitfire words. He only wished you’d push the boundary more. The more you fought, the sweeter the submission.

He pulled out his ‘other’ phone. His ‘business’ phone. The phone no police would ever know or see. He swiped his thumb across the screen and groaned at the sweet nude thing he took photos of the night you’d both met. Oh how pitifully adorable you were with your desperate pleas and confusion as the pill quickly broke down into your blood stream.

He wished he had a video of it. How he teased your phone away from you. How he mocked you. Half of it he imagined you probably didn’t remember. After all it wasn’t long that you were totally out of it, limp and softly snoring.

He liked how much control he had over you. Laying the strips over your hairy body and tearing it away to be baby smooth as he liked it. How delicate you looked as he rubbed the baby oil into your skin to settle any potential irritation. Perhaps it was sick of him to prefer you like this. He sighed, licking his bottom lip, staring at the photo he took of your freshly waxed pussy.

He had done sicker things to other people. But you were someone who didn’t deserve this. That is where the guilt lied. You didn’t deserve this and August Walker fucking new it deep in his bones.

He wasn’t shy of hurting innocence but your situation was different. This was personal.

So really could he hold it against you for going to the police? No... And besides...his false alibi had been solid... especially after the rape kit evidence had been tampered with, concluding as inconclusive...

Something about the thought of making you submit but never fully breaking, constantly challenging him- turned him on so much, he found it impossible to work. He slapped his phone down and chewed the inside of his cheek while he considered calling up Natalie, one of his go to escorts. His payable whores. She was expensive but she knew how to suck him off to completion quickly and he wanted to focus on work and finalising the details of his party in two days, not on you.

As fate would have it….he wouldn’t have a choice…the phone rang on his desk.

He pressed the reviewer to his ear and turned to look out the window.

“Walker.”

“It’s Gibson.”

He smiled and leaned back in his rolling chair, “Ah Wesley, yes, how are you mate?”

“You’ve got a little problem, sir,” he heard his public relation specialist sigh, “A tail.”

“Oh?”

“I’m sending the email now,” the click clack typing of the keyboard echoed in the headset Wesley wore,” It seems the paper has started to find better journalists…”

The email notification came in quickly. The ping from his monitor forced August to spin around in his chair. He pursed his lips and scrolled to click the link.

He hovered the mouse arrow down and noticed the collection of photos taken of him in the high class restaurants talking with a old underworld buddy of his. Some of the images however were incredibly exposing. His hand was shaking Brandons in one when he made a export deal with him, another photo showed August’s fingers touching a contract, his eyes looking at a phone Brandon was holding with images of guns. This was not good at all…

“What the fuck…” his hand pressed to his lips, he mused, “The photographer was smart, he knows how to pick a decent angle, Jesus what camera took this?” He clicked another photo, “These details…you can practically see every pore on Brandon’s bloody face…”

His mouth felt dry. He knew he needed to hire Natalie’s services now, the stressed building up had him tense. His erection had vanished, now it was a matter of pain in his shoulders and back.

He scrolled further and stared at the headlines jumping out. “Playboy or Pathological Criminal.”, “Party King or King Pin.”, “Australia’s own insider terrorist.”

His eyes widened at seeing the publishing office. John Fucking Luther & Co. News.

His jaw cracked with the tightness he clenched. No. He didn’t have time for this shit.

“She, sir,” The lackey corrected, “Newest of Luther’s flock. His word usually isn’t credible but this? This is going to be hard, expensive press to erase or cover up. Other news outlets are fighting over the rites.”

She...

He picked up a pen and clicked the button. Why was it even that important.

She...

She? His eyes sharpened. He looked closer at the photos on his screen. Something about the photo style reminded him of something earlier he had seen the previous week. So many….on a wall…beside a bed…filled with a captivating woman he defiled…but surely not you? Surely not you...

“What did you say?”

“Sir the cost to-”

He shook his head and sighed into the phone, cutting of the agent, “No, no, I meant the photographer. You said ‘she’? Luther? Are you sure this is real? His lot are the worst, always blurry or grainy if they’re lucky…who the fuck is this new photographer or editor or whoever the fuck is getting these images.”

“We can only assume,” Wesley mumbled, “You’ve had this little thing on your tail for the passed few days, she tries to be sneaky we’ve noted. We didn’t expect her to release decent pictures…we followed her back to the Luther office. The angles fit the locations we have caught her in.”

His thumb pressed hard against the pen.

“Show me this bitch,” he growled under his breath.

Another email ping and a link later, your face filled the computer screen. Your eyes burned him right back…you were in a few photos. Some where you hid among a roof top, another you were hiding in a corner at the restaurant, and finally one where you were just in a park looking down at your camera probably going over the shots you’d taken.

“Want us to deal with her, sir?” he suddenly heard Wesley ask. Deal with her...Destroy her reputation...beat her up…sell her…or kill her....no…no...not his new puppy.

He blinked with bewilderment and hummed, “No...” He cleared his throat, “No, no thankyou, Wesley. I know this kid; don’t worry…” he smirked, “This is just a simple misunderstanding…bit of…play. Trust me.”

Oh how he could’ve whipped the skin from your back raw for this if you were anyone else...

“Sir, if you can’t get her to stop, if she’s going to keep doing this…” Gibson warned, “Anything more in depth- you’ll wind up in court or prison at the worst, the pigs aren’t taking the pay like they used to…”

August shook his head and sighed, “It wouldn’t be the first time Wesley. Ignore her. I’ll deal with it. She’s my responsibility.”

His public relations officer seemed to pause for a moment. As if he had something else to say but he knew better than to total talk back to August Walker.

“Alright sir, have a good evening,” August heard before he slapped the phone, hanging up.

He scooted closer to the screen and scrolled back at the photos you’d taken. He bit his lip and chuckled, shaking his head at your profiling photo, “You little-...you want to play this game? Fine, now it’s my turn.”

He began dialling up a new phone number. He held it back up to his ear and waited for the receiver to pick up.

“Jude mate, I’m gonna need you to develop some photos for me...oh yes,” he replied pinching the pen in his hand, “Red room style.”

06:19pm Wednesday 14th August 2024, Woolloongabba, Brisbane.

“Who needs a man? Huh!” You said to yourself testing out the new bolts and chain locks you installed on the front door. They rattled and locked. They didn’t budge when you jiggled the handle and pulled. You still had three more you planned to drill in.

You wiped the sweat off your forehead and grinned proudly. This is something your dad should have taught you how to do. Thankfully with the help of a YouTube tutorial and a bit of bravery you managed to take full control and ownership of your front door.

If your new landlord wanted to charge you for damages to his door, so be it, as long as this kept you protected from him while you slept at night that was all that mattered. He’d either have to pick every complicated lock, guess or, he’d have to hire the damn firefighting crew to use a battering ram.

When you opened the door again to test it a second time, a squeak of surprised popped from your lips. You clenched your dad’s power tool tightly.

A man in a black suit and black sunglasses stood outside the door with an large yellow envelope in his hand. He held it out to you silently. He looked ominous and familiar, he wore leather gloves…your eye widened, he was August’s driver.

You glanced between him and his hands. Every second was a risk you weren’t sure you could keep taking. You hesitantly pinched the bottom of his flat package and he let go. He pulled the edge of his sunglasses down his face, looking at the plethora of door locks.

‘What was his name again? Judea, Judas?’

He said quietly, “It might be better if you open it inside...” his eyes glanced at the door again before smirking, “Nice locks...pretty crappy if you think it’s going to stop him though.”

‘Him...August Walker...’

You stood still in shock. He gracefully spun on his heel and left. Your tongue caught in your throat…what the fuck was this?

The package was as thick as your hand.

You had to know it was from August…I mean who else could it be from? Especially since you speculated it was his driver that delivered it…especially since there was a massive cursive ‘A.J.W’ on the tab of the envelope.

You held your breath and walked hurriedly backwards inside.

Your teeth caught your upper lip. You slammed the door shut and locked all the locks before going to the couch, disposing the drill on the coffee table, and tearing open the envelope.

You pinched the top wide open and hovered your eyes inside. There was a white papery page ripped out from a note book. You pulled it out and unfolded it to read his handwritten warning.

“Careful Puppy, you’re lucky my men didn’t bite when they sniffed you out, sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong. I think you need a break from your little hobby. So I’m going to remind you...I have copies of these. Scratch me again and I’ll bite back. Stay down or I will put you down.”

Your mouth became dry as your eyes raced over that one last line again.

‘Stay down or I will put you down.’

When you ‘put down’ an animal, it usually means death…your insides grew cold. You were confident this was a strict warning, not a threat but a promise, August walker was telling you to stop investigating or he would kill you…

Your hands shook uncontrollably. You wanted them to stop. Your body felt the reeling anxiety. You dumped the rest of the envelope over the counter. All the content spilled across the entire floor. A camera came clattering out. Your father’s camera in fact.

Inside were photos of you. A photo of you working in the editor office. A photo of you walking in the deli section at the underground Woolworths grocery store and photos of you sitting at the Queen street bus station, even the bus numbers showed up. The bus 200 via Carindale. Then at the bottom of the spread out deck of photos were the shots from the night he forced you to cum on the recliner and the night he had drugged you, naked on his bed.

Your teeth clenched hard.

You felt your eyes grow hot quickly with tears. You didn’t like how pathetic and helpless you appeared, covered in tape, and totally lost in the bliss of his sexual torture. You didn’t realise how sweaty it had made you until noticing the intense wet shimmer over your body in the photo, the hot light of the camera shone reflectively from your skin.

You closed your eyes and choked on a sob. He made his point loud and clear but it wasn’t fair. Why could he get away with all of this? You wanted to tear all the photos up one by one until they were tiny papers the size of your pinky nail.

But they sat in a piled collection on your coffee table.

Your hand cupped your mouth as you fought your wails. You clenched your teeth and stomped your foot.

You kept rereading his note. Memorising his handwriting. His Y’s had a straight tail that didn’t curve upward. It made you hate him twice as much as irrational that detail was.

August hadn’t come back since then. He had not made any personal contact since he cornered you in your father’s bedroom. It wasn’t the last time you saw him though…you saw him almost daily, but you confidently were sure he never saw you until now. You were gathering all the evidence possible to put him in the doghouse...

You pressed yourself against the wall and slid down it on your back until your bottom hit the floor.

Now what would you do? Take photos and write about abused animals instead? Always worrying about August coming into your home to take his revenge for the humiliation and defamation you brought to his name?

You settled your hands into your lap. Your heart was pounding. You could hear every awful thud.

Your phone came to life. Lloyds number ran across your screen.

‘Oh god, Lloyd. Sweet, wonderful Lloyd. Maybe he could help me.’

Hitting the green button, you picked up the phone and cleared your throat, “Hey, how are you?”

His voice was a cool balm, “I’m getting on alright. I thought I’d call and check up on you. You haven’t been very chatty over text is all. I still think you should move Y/N.”

Lloyd kept you as updated as he could. He said he interviewed August a few days ago and the excuse was laughable. August had lied about being at his club during the time he had been with you. He had staff members who could vouch for him, Lloyd suggested they’d been paid off and supposedly security footage, all which Lloyd assured must’ve been edited. It was comforting knowing out of everyone, Lloyd stayed true in his belief that you were a victim.

Another tear rolled down your face, your voice became shaky, “Yea...I think you’re right. Lloyd...things have been happening...and...can you- can you just come over please?”

You were breaking down hard and couldn’t stop the wave of anguish coming over you. The detective was compassionate and said softly, “Of course. I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

When the phone disconnected you rubbed your face and flared your nostrils. Seeing the photos made you feel dirty, unclean. You decided a quick shower before Lloyd arrived might help you relax and calm down from the absolute panic attack creeping under your skin. You stood under the hot spray and tried to control your breathing.

And under the water your thoughts persisted to race. A particular question shot through you.

‘Why would he even send those to me?’ Your eyes shut. ‘Why’? If you were just some women, he liked to fuck and humiliate... ‘Then why didn’t he just come in and do it in person?’

It was like a pin had dropped. Your eyes flashed wide open, and you turned off the water. You scrubbed your face and got out of the shower, rushing to put your pyjamas on. You almost slipped on the tiles and hard wood.

You crashed to your knees at the coffee table and spread the photos around trying to find that one.

The one where you were sitting inside the editor building at your cubicle. It had been taken from a low angle on the street. A small laugh escaped you. If he sent you an image of you at the office he knew where you worked, and who you worked for…he had read your articles...a light laugh escaped your parting lips. Tears dripped from your eyes, not from grief or fear, oh no, it was relief. Now it made sense.

'Of course!' August had read your articles...and they- you chuckled; they frightened him!!! Yes, maybe not to the extent of full fear, but enough that he felt it fit and necessary to send these too you. He felt threatened. The articles were piling up on speculation against him now in the paper. You were walking a thin line between defamation and creative liberties in alleged speculations, but Mr Luther assured it was legal in the laws of journalism and gossip.

If August had copies of your lewd rape photos, if he published them…you didn’t care...what was the point in caring about that?

You knew humans could be animals. It didn’t matter what was seen. Anyone can masturbate to anything, even just a selfie – so an image of you cumming on the recliner chair was really nothing at the end of the day…sure you might lose your job but the confidence to get you there would be used in the future again. And it would be all worth it just to watch the cuffs slap over August’s wrist. Because even if he’d never go away, locked up for your abuse, you could at least drag him further down with as many criminal activity charges as possible.

You glanced at the note he wrote…maybe he didn’t even write this. If he really wanted you dead, you were sure you would be. This wasn’t a threat, this was a game. He was toying with you, clearly trying to scare you into stopping any investigations of his hidden underground work.

Little did he know, he had no idea that your rage and hunger for revenge was greater than your fear of him.

You pinched a photo to the light and smirked. If only a week ago, this poor defenceless girl knew how her life would change for good...her eyes the mirror of yours. You slapped it flat in the table and pinched your eyes. August was definitely no talent in taking photos.

You smiled recalling how Luther reacted to the first photo you brought him the third day of working...

02:36pm Thursday 8th August 2024, Brisbane CBD.

On the sticky note you’d written down a name Mr Luther had shared. You looked up that name, Brandon Sullivan, with deep dive searches and found very little of him…however he did have a single photo up on his Facebook, he was holding a gorgeous woman.

Once you had reversed search the woman’s face, Katarina Vikander, you could have peed with excitement. She was some Swedish ballet dancer and super model. She was Brandons girlfriend. And she was happy to share a dozen photos over all her social media platforms…and yes, Brandon clearly wasn’t a fan of his personal paparazzi, but there were hiccups in his cover ups.

Katarina had taken a selfie on a balcony; her sunglasses reflected her phone and Brandon coming out of their hotel bathroom.

Behind Katarina was a marina in the background. That area was very rich and popular and easy to find. You recognised the area only by chance. The were staying at the JW Marriot Gold Coast Resort and Spa. You could see the JW Marriot logo on a bath robe in a previous photo while she wore a creamy face mask with cucumber slices over her eyes.

Katarina seemed to have this obsession with a Americana aesthetic, her favourite artist was in her saved Instagram stories, Lana del Rey.

The caption of her post with Brandon hidden in the background under a broad brim hat said, “Sunny and happy with my love, he doesn’t like the seafood here, he wants ‘real truffles.’ **eyeroll emoji**”

You remembered how you sat back after seeing that and searched every restaurant in the area of the Gold Coast region and only one sold authentic truffle dishes…men are fickle and usually won’t try new things…he was clearly a man set in his ways if he wouldn’t let her post photos of him. or at least that was your theory and assumption about the almost non-existent Brandon Sullivan.

You went back and searched August. He had a decent amount of information, he was very private however, no named girlfriends or family. He was very business oriented….and what did you know? Two years ago on his LinkedIn profile you could see August had been at the opening of the same little truffle restaurant nearby where Katrina and Brandon were staying. You scrolled.

‘Looks like he was or still is an investor.’

It wasn’t solid evidence, and you didn’t know if August would be there to meet with them…so all it took, was a simple phone call…and the great skill of confidence with a stride of lying.

As the phone dialed, you selected a fake name. Your co-worker had a F.R.I.E.N.D.S coffee mug, and you stared at the dark drink stain…it’s dark colour making a perfect name.

When a staff member of the restaurant answered you hurriedly got through your plotted lie, “Hello? Yes, my name is…Jennifer Brown, I’m Mr August Walkers new assistant…listen his last employee was quite begrudged and threw out all the known appointments Mr Walker was to attend in the next three months. I’m pretty sure he has a table booked for your restaurant?”

The administrator paused. You hoped he wouldn’t ask you to repeat yourself or question you further, so you sarcastically joked, “He will murder me if I can’t find out, it’s very important.”

You prayed he’d bite the banter.

The administration clerk had a boyish tone, “Of course! Would you like me to look up the time and date of his reservation?”

You smirked and held back a cackle, you feigned a sweet joyful cry, “I would be grateful if you could be a dear, thank you so much!”

And that was how you found out the schedule and exact location of August Walker and his criminal associate.

09:45am Friday 9th August 2024, Coomera, Gold Coast.

Getting inside the restaurant wasn’t too hard. It had an open-door area with French doors. You made sure to wear a large sun hat and a plain dress. Your dad owned a small camera, about the size of an apple. You put it on a timer and leant to the floor, aiming the view finder at their table.

The entire time you swore you were sweating bullets. If August had seen you and confronted you, you probably would be chained to a pipe laying naked on a dirty mattress…maybe with those missing women you heard about on the news, Rachel, Stephanie, and Alison.

‘Why didn’t he keep me then? We did he return me back home? Did he kill those other girls?’ the more you thought too deeply on the topic, it made your skin crawl.

You clenched one of the forks, staring at the kingpin in the reflection. He looked to smug for a man that got off on harming women. You wished you could stab out his eyes with the prongs. And when the waiter came around to ask what you wanted to order, you held up the fork and requested a new one, apologising for “dropping it”.

You determined the camera had taken enough footage. You knew you’d need to make your escape when the waiter left to find you a new fork. Afterall- who can afford to pay for a cut of salmon with rocket leaves and white sauce for a hundred and thirteen fucking dollars?

You went straight home on the train and bus. You developed the photos in the bathroom sink. Hanging it up on the shower rails to set.

Those were the first photos you gave Mr. Luther.

The other times you took photos of Brandon and August were harder, a little more risky.

06:23am Saturday 10th August 2024, Coomera, Gold Coast.

You had staked outside of the hotel where Brandon stayed. Waiting across the street in a side street. It was cold and miserable. But you knew August would be down here. Darling Katarina had posted a photo of her shoes in an elevator, beside her feet were Brandons shoes, but his had a shine. You could see the blur of Augusts moustached face. Maybe it was a reach, except when the caption said, “Lions Lounge anyone? Don’t my heels look incredible! **love heart eyes emoji**”

You were dressed in rags, you clenched a juul stick you bought that morning, gagging on the watermelon flavour while you practiced your “Eshay” accent. You stared up at the windows trying to guess which room the three were in with the help of the ex-ballerinas photos.

A month ago, you would’ve thought doing something like this was insane and frankly unhealthy. But you a month ago had not been humiliated and manipulated, God knows what a woman will do once you’ve pissed her off…was it obsession? Most definitely, for revenge, for justice, for all the girls who fell for August and harmed by his reputation.

You waited…and you were right. Brandon and August walking out together. The sweet young woman was clinging to Brandon’s side with a wide girlish smile and love heart shaped sunglasses. Funnily enough, the car that picked them up just so happened to be driven by the same dark headed driver in the same black car that August took you in. You took a snapshot of the license plate and watched it drive through the somewhat slow traffic down the street. You walked and walked, keeping your eyes set on the license plate. While traffic rolled, you turned and noted there were a few empty taxis.

You took off the jumper that you cut a bunch of holes in and dumped it in a garbage bin before bending down and tapping on one of the taxi windows.

“Hey! Are you available to drive me?” You called to one of the taxi drivers that hadn’t noticed you until that second...his eyes widened with surprise before nodding, “quickly, traffic is slow, hop in!”

You slid directly into the passenger side, which on a normal day you’d never dare.

But today wasn’t a normal day. You sat up in your seat and scrolled the area with your eyes.

“So where are we headed today, ma’am?” The driver asked.

You pointed ahead with a cheeky smile, “See that black car? The fancy one.”

“The tesla?” He asked.

“My friends are in that car, so please follow it. They know the way.”

He peered at you curiously, you knew it was stupid. If you had friends rich enough for a tesla, they’d never leave you to find a taxi. But hey…money is money, the driver wouldn’t argue. He started the timer and to your satisfaction traffic picked up. When they zoomed through the street the taxi tried to keep up. They were driving to a quieter street with Western Europeanised cafe’s.

As they stopped and hoped out you quickly requested to the driver, “Do you mind going around the corner? I’m a little embarrassed.”

God, you hated to say it but you had to play the suddenly snobby cunt.

He didn’t care either way to your relief and parked around the corner, metres away from the two men.

You paid the driver handsomely with cash you managed to find in your old piggy bank back home and slid out of the cab. Your face carefully looked around the corner and you skirted back. August, Brandon and Katarina had decided to sit outside in the warm morning sunlight. It was just your luck! Quickly, you crossed the street away from the cafe. The more distance the better.

To your luck it was a block of units across from the cafe. You walked around the building and kept your head down. You came up behind in an alley and smiled at the long spiral stairs that went up to the roof top. The adrenaline extinguished all fear of heights and pushed you up until you stood out on a flat roof. You crossed the way and looked over the side.

‘Fuck’, you thought to yourself. ‘Would a police officer ever do this? Would Lloyd ever have the guts to do this?’

Probably not, there was lots of red tape involved in police investigations...but you were just a reporter...You were a photographic investigator and you amazed yourself at the lengths you were taking. You were eager to get these shots. This evidence.

You saw the pair of businessmen receiving a cup of tea and breakfast meals from the waitress. Getting down onto your tummy, you grabbed your camera and leant over the ledge to zoom in on the two.

The pumping blood roaring in your vein filled you with a mixture of fear, excitement and surprisingly…arousal.

Those were the photos that made it to the papers first.

06:35pm Wednesday 14th August 2024, Woolloongabba Brisbane.

As you reminisced on the evidential demise of August Walker, a knock at the door designed a bigger grin across your face. Lloyd had arrived. And no longer standing in a fit of sobs you welcome him cheerfully at the door.

He was wearing a black turtleneck and black slacks, totally out of uniform. Below his eye was a reddish spot. It was shining against his pale face. It wouldn’t surprise you if it was a bruise.

‘Many police are brutal and cruel but there’s no way Lloyd is one. He isn’t one of those cops...he must’ve been attacked by some bogan eshay or crackhead.’

His smile turned your knees to warm jelly. You felt shy like some first year highschooler being noticed by the seniors. He just had this glow around him.

“Hi Lloyd.”

“Hello there,” he said softly, his head cocked to the side, “Do you mind letting me in?” He asked.

‘Oh right.’

“Come- come in.”

You felt your face grow warm. You opened the door wider and looked out and down the hall. You held your breath and stood aside. The tall man slid passed you inside to your lounge room.

You took a massive breath in and exhaled. No one was waiting behind a corner or ready to catch you with the officer. You knew there were no security cameras and you doubted August would ever add any with his reputation.

Lloyd removed his leather shoes and placed them beside the door. His black socks glided over the hardwood.

You bit your lip…you looked back at the coffee table and quickly shut the door, bolting the locks after the detective entered your flat.

If August knew you were letting a detective inside, continuing to talk to one he could-…’Well, hold on...how would he know? He wouldn’t.’

“Woah, locked me in, what are you doing?” Lloyd gasped as he glanced over the metal mechanisms of your door. His eyes widened when you twisted the locks and shifted the small chains.

“I just...um. August Walker.... he’s kinda now...my new landlord and he probably will be getting keys soon and I....” your breath wavered. You paused and took a deep breath, “I needed to talk to you privately in person I think....”

His eyes didn’t grow any wider, but his pupils shrank. He pinched his dark pink lips. Sucking his teeth loudly he nodded slowly.

“That’s definitely a pickle you’ve been put into then, huh?”

You nodded back, pressing yourself against the door, sighing softly, “That’s not even the half of it Lloyd...”

His eyes raked up and down your body in surprise. You weren’t wearing your bra and your nipples were rock hard. Your pyjama bottoms were very short and little did you realise how much they were riding up your thighs.

You walked around him timidly to the coffee table.

“I got a new job, as a photographer journalist, no real experience required just my luck honestly,” you awkwardly laughed, “August um, he’s supposedly up to no good and I thought I could have a jab at him from a professional angle…”

You sat yourself in the recliner, while you invited him to sit opposite of you on the couch where he’d be able to properly look at all the photos.

He looked frightfully tired. His hair was dishevelled, and his shirt was stain with sweat. He had a nasty purple bruise on his knuckles that also matched the one under his eye.

You lifted your knees to your chest and worried about how much trouble this man was getting into as well as you. You wondered if it was like television shows where detectives mostly focus on the darkside of the force.

You gestured to the photos. You weren’t sure how he would react. He sat on the couch and peered across the coffee table, glancing over the images. It took him a few seconds before a gasp of shock ripped from his throat.

You tapped on the photos where you’d been stalked and seen taking photos of August, “Well, it shows he’s not one to have his photos taken...”

He was shaking his head. He couldn’t stop staring at the nude photos. And for a few seconds you relived that feeling of embarrassed humiliation.

You could see how his throat bobbed and his eyes flutter.

He leant forward on his knees and licked his lips.

“I...and here I had called you to check up on you and I was going to ask you for help Y/N, but god I don’t know if that’s gonna work now,” he sighed.

The detective ran a finger across your face in the lewd photos.

Your eyes narrowed, “Wh-what do you mean?”

There was a lengthy pause.

He chewed the inside of his cheek before asking, “How much do you hate what August did to you?”

You didn’t hesitate, “I’d kill him for what he’s done if I knew I wouldn’t go to prison…” you briefly looked down, “He…he came back like you said...”

Lloyd eyes glanced down too and he sighed, “Thought as much…let me guess…he threatened you?”

Your eyes fluttered closed, August had done more than just threaten you.

You nodded slowly, “He…he did…but he…is possessive, he kept saying I was his and I belong to him.” You pointed to the photo of you taped up on the recliner.

His brows pressed together, his eyes saddened. He clear his throat, “How long ago was that?”

Your mouth grew dry. You felt embarrassed telling Lloyd.

“The day of the report, after you brought me home.”

His eyes widened, his hand rubbed his parted lips, “So he ugh…he was here already?”

You nodded again, “The call you made… he was standing right here with a knife in his hand.”

“That’s why you have those deadbolts huh?” The officer rubbed his eyes and groaned, “Fuck. I’m so sorry. Why didn’t you call me after he left? I could’ve moved you, you could’ve stayed with me at least until I could put you into witness protection. Fuck!”

His swearing sent a shiver down your spine.

Your looked at your feet, you knew he wasn’t victim blaming, he just didn’t understand. You told Lloyd everything…confessed like he was your priest. You told him what August did with the vibrator despite it bringing you to tears again. You told him he was the new landlord and that’s why you installed the extra locks. You told him about your new job and you told him about the photos and how you were going to help however you could to put the bastard away.

You sat off the recliner and slid the photos back into the envelope.

“You’re very brave Y/N,” Lloyd whispered, he reached out and laid his warm hand on top of yours.

Your belly felt warm at the praise. You let him hold your fingers in his and rubbed his thumb over your skin. You stared at his blonde moustache and those bright clue eyes of his. You imagined his mouth scratching your lip if you only leant in closer...he was still as handsome as the day he patiently listened to you in the report.

Lloyd smiled softly.

God if you were a cat you would’ve been feral and in heat with how creative your imagination was getting.

Your eyes fluttered as your entire body warmed up.

“Y-You said you needed help with something?”

He smirked, letting go of your hand.

He claimed, “After what you’ve told me I’m confident you can do it...but you might not like it…”

“Try me,” you huffed, falling victim to his contagious grin.

“I have two tickets to August’s little Soiree at his club The Lions Lounge,” He started off, “My other sources have confirmed there is going to be some form of arms deal with some unsavoury company, illegal, unregistered weapons. August Walker is very good at knowing the law and requesting a warrant… but the sources I have are not substantial to the board to guarantee a warrant by that night and by that time Walker would’ve moved the weapons and sold them in a different location.”

You pieced it bit by bit.

“So you need to get inside the party, find the deal going down and bust them?”

“Exactly, that’s right! However the moment a single man waltzes to the front door it looks suspicious. I need a lady on the arm…and better yet…I need a distraction for Walker, if he sees me head on, I could be as good a shark chow.”

Your eyes lit up, it didn’t take a genius to realise he meant you. You would be the distraction. And you’d be damned before you put yourself in real danger again especially after the threat August had given you...your photos were taken in public, this would be in private. Anything could happen to you.

“No… that is too dangerous, Lloyd,” You stood up and paced the floor in front of Lloyd who was now also rising to follow you in your pacing. You walked around your kitchen and Lloyd put his hands on the bench beside you.

“Y/N…” he bent close in a whisper. You wouldn’t look at the detective. Fear was buzzing inside of you. You felt stupid about saying you’d do anything to take August Walker down now. You really wanted to just humiliate the man and call him up in prison one day and rub it in his face. But this? This was a game of cat and mouse and you didn’t want to be backed up into a corner again.

“I wouldn’t be asking you if this unless I had to...”

You bit back the whimper in your throat as Lloyd touched your shoulder gently.

“He let you live…he has a soft spot for you.”

‘He threatened to put me down.’

He turned you around and squeezed your arms while he pitched the plan, “What’ll happen is we enter the club, I find the dealers and you find Walker because he will be hosting the party, he will want to know why you’re there and you are going to tell him that…you wanted to see him.”

You rubbed your eyes angrily, “Why the fuck would I want to see him?!” your fingers felt moist, you’d been compelled to tears.

The kind eyed detective sucked his teeth, “I don’t know, make it up. Kiss him. Men don’t care about a thing once a pretty thing is kissing them.”

You rolled your eyes and shook your head. No, this wasn’t the Lloyd you had imagined.

“Oh,” you chuckled sourly, “So you’re pimping me out then?”

He gave you a dumbfounded look, “Call it whatever you want…you’ll be paid good money for your service and he’ll be arrested, in prison, unable to touch you. You can run away and move to wherever you want then.”

Your breath was shaky as you dared to ask, “How much?”

His left brow rose.

“How much would I be paid by the Queensland police or Australian defence department or whoever this is through?”

He sighed and gently laid a hand on your shoulder, “Around fifteen grand.”

Your breath escaped you. From near negatives to fifteen grand overnight? That much? For this job?! You were stunned…not sure if it was worth your life…but if it meant he only humiliate you one more time and you walked away with that much money…you’d do it.

You shook your head, “Fine, it’s this Friday night yea? His club is high-class and I don’t have clothes for that type of event.”

The tall man stood back and chuckled as he tug into his back pocket and retrieved his wallet. He pinched a wad of cash and slapped it in the benchtop. Your eyes widened, holy fuck it was a month or two in rent alone…

“Go buy some. But you have got to be ready. At Seven o’clock I’ll pick you up an hour before the event and we can refresh what we know before we line up.”

You glanced between him and the money and nodded….”Alright, let’s…let’s do this.”

He laughed and clapped his hand excitedly, he leant in and gave you a fat kiss on the cheek. Nothing romantic, just pure joy.

“Thankyou so much Y/N you are going to be hailed a hero, a legend in my books!” He marched back to the couch and grabbed his blazer.

“You are a special person and I’m honoured to have met you! Really honoured!” He said as he unlocked all your bolts. He swung the door open and slammed it behind him.

You sighed and fell back against your cold fridge.

You weren’t sure you could pull this off….but as your eyes looked over the cash, the corner of your lips lifted.

You shut your eyes and sighed…all that money, it made your blood pulse. You returned to the lounge room and sat in the recliner. You laid back, staring at the ceiling. Your hands crawled down, passed the waist band of your pyjama shorts and underwear. You touched yourself and sighed.

Your fingers rubbed delicately against your clit while you leant against the kitchen bench.

You tried to imagine someone...Lloyd…the detective. He had a warmth his face. Lloyd would never rape you though, he was good, he was honest…

You moaned softly, imagining his warm hands groping your skin and his lips kissing your skin.

Fingering yourself, in and out, in and out.

You were imagining Lloyd speaking to you. He was currently the most attractive man you’d made contact with in weeks...other than August who essentially raped you.

What kind words would Lloyd say? “I washed our clothes, finished the dishes, now come here and let me fuck you.” ‘Oh yea that’s fucking hot.’

You imagined he would be gentle and soft before using more strength in his hips. His lips would be soft and hot. He would protect you and play sexy policeman. You might not have been a fan of the justice system but you were confident Lloyd would fill in a police uniform very well.

So why did your body start to dry up?

You didn’t know what you were doing wrong. You were riding your fingers and teasing your clit…why couldn’t you cum? You felt weird doing this now. It was strange to think before you met August you could cum very easily, after your dad- well you hadn’t touched yourself because you weren’t thinking about sex for a while until the millionaire stepped into your life.

After the third time of unsuccessful release, you punched the arm of the chair and started searching sex toys on your phone.

You weren’t totally sure if the prices were worth it for a piece of painted pink silicone. And there were strange shapes you were amazed were even designed to fit into a human….‘a whole fist? Surely that’s satire,’ you thought, ‘it shouldn’t be possible. It would be like reverse birth?’

You settled on buying a “rabbit dildo with thrusting pleasure.” You rolled your eyes at the name. You slapped your phone down and sighed, rubbing your eyes.

The hour was late.

Your first paycheck would be coming in soon. It was the smell of a small victory.

10:33am Friday 16th August 2024, Queen Street Westfield Shopping centre, Brisbane.

“What should I wear…” you hummed as you flipped through the dresses. Some of these dresses cost the amount of a new iPhone. You bit your lip. ‘Maybe I can return them tomorrow and give Lloyd his money back?’

A sales clerk came up, “Need some help?” She was blonde, curvy and tall. A supermodel compared to your body. You blushed.

“I’m looking to wear something to one of the high end clubs like The Lion Lounge, he’s having a nineteen twenties theme soiree this evening?”

Her lips widened, “Well, we do have many suitable gowns and even pantsuits for that social class, what designer were you thinking?”

You balked and worried that she would see you sweat, “Oh…I um…I’ll be super frank…I have not a clue what I’m doing…it is my first time to something so spectacular.”

The clerk’s eyes softened, her lips pursed, “Well! Let me help you then! These gowns you’re looking at are definitely not old twenties glam worthy! Right this way!”

Your cheeks buzzed as you were led into a dressing room and made to try on multiple styles, designers and colours of dresses.

She asked if you were getting your nails done and gasped when you said you hadn’t thought about it.

She was like a fairy godmother. She went the extra mile to call up the other stores in the mall to book appointments. You hadn’t felt so pretty ever in your life until then

She appeared stunned by the cash you laid on her counter.

Your nails were french tips with a holographic clear coat. You received a quick arm and leg wax and eyebrow shaping. The makeup matched the entire outfit. Your dress clung to your best assets and shaped your body with a clutch purse and low heels to match. Your hair was gelled and hairsprayed down into finger waves. And a lather of pearls circled around your throat and wrists.

The long finger of your dress tickled your calfs down to your small kitten heels.

You looked incredible, it took your breath away to see the glow up….

Lloyd thought so too.

HELPLINES:

If you are a victim of sexual abuse, assault or domestic violence or know someone who is please reach out to these links that share helpline services, phone numbers or emails. Consent and respect is important in every relationship whether between friends, family or even strangers. .

Australian Helpline Services

UK Helpline Services

American Helpline Services

India Helpline Services.

[floras-imagination]

Robbers, forever? 🖤 matty healy x reader

CHAPTER 1

series masterlist

summary: Y/n and Matty break each other's hearts multiple times over the years, yet they find themselves unable to stay away from each other... and this is the beginning of their love story 🖤 authors note: This story is inspired by some of my fondest memories shared with an ex (but I've made some changes to better align the story with Matty's character), and each chapter is accompanied by poems I've written about that relationship. I've posted them on my poetry blog, so just click on the links you'll find in the chapters:) Hope you enjoy it as much as I do 💘 (i think it's so cuuuute) word count: 2,6 k warning: y/n struggles with a restrictive ed in the first few chapters (but it's just kinda mentioned in the diary entry at the beginning)

August 2012

Dear Diary, I wish I were stronger. I wish I could beat this illness, but I just can't. Every time I try to recover, I fail. I've been doing so well in the last few months, but it's always the same. As soon as I'm doing better I mess it up again. Why do I keep lying to myself? "I'm in control." "Just one more day." "I can stop if I want to." But I never do. A day turns into a week, and suddenly weeks have passed, and I can't control it anymore.

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

Y/n sat in her living room, having some dinner while watching the news. As she glanced at her phone, she noticed an incoming call from an unknown number.

After considering it for a moment, Y/n became curious, so she decided to answer. "Hello?"

"Y/n?", a male, familiar voice asked.

"Matty?", she asked slightly confused, immediately recognizing the man on the phone.

"Surprised?"

"Uhm... yeah, kind of, I guess. Haven't heard anything from you in ages. How've you been?"

Matty and Y/N have known each other from school. After they graduated a few years ago, they sometimes still bumped into each other in town, enjoying a nice chat and updating each other about their busy, somewhat messy adult lives. Though their paths seemed to cross every once in a while, they never really tried to stay in touch.

"Great, actually," he answered. "George and I got a bit bored, so I was wondering if maybe you wanna hang out with us?"

"Hang out with you?"

"Yeah, we'd pick you up."

"Okay, let me get this straight," the girl stated. "You and George got bored..."

"Yep."

"and out of all the things you could do, you chose to ask me if I want to hang out with you?"

"Now what's wrong with that?" Matty asked, as if it was the most normal thing in the world, to call someone you have never called before, asking them to hang out on a casual Thursday.

"Well, I don't kn... Wait! Where did you get my number from?"

"Doesn't really matter, does it?"

"It does matter somehow."

Suddenly, the sound of a car horn made Y/N jump.

"Nah. We're here by the way. You're coming?"

"Matty! It's 9:30; I'm already in my pajamas!" she exclaimed.

Matty laughed. "I don't care what you're wearing."

"And who even gave you my address?"

"Just get your ass out here!" he snickered into the phone. "Now!"

"You're insufferable!"

"Yeah, I know," he shrugged it off with a smirk.

"Give me at least a sec to put some clothes on." Not waiting for an answer, she hung up. Despite her confusion about Matty's suspicious call, she changed into a pair of jeans and a hoodie, quickly grabbing her jacket and keys as she went downstairs to leave the house.

Matty sat on the passenger seat of George's car, his arm casually dangling out of the open window. "Hi, Y/n!" he greeted her with a big smile on his face, causing y/n's bewilderment to grow.

"Hi, Y/n!" George called from the drivers seat.

"Hi...", she hesitantly answered, shyly waving her hand toward his direction.

"Come on, get inside!" Matty said excitedly.

"Matty, I still don't kn..."

"Sshhh!" he cut her off, pressing his index finger on his lips. "It'll be fun. I promise."

Y/n opened the door and placed herself on the backseat, putting on her seatbelt as George started the engine, ready to drive off.

"How are you Y/n?" Matty asked.

"Uhm.. fine, I guess. Bit tired. I have work tomorrow."

"Are you still working as a nurse, Y/n?" George asked.

"Yes, I am. How's your music thing going?"

"Absolutely amazing", Matty answered immediately. "We're currently working on our first album. It's gonna be a fuckin' banger, isn't it George?"

"Oh, definitely!", George added.

"That's cool. I'm so happy for you guys. Can't wait to hear it," Y/n grinned.

"You're gonna be the first to hear it when it's done.", Matty beamed.

George shook his head, trying to hide a chuckle as he glanced over to the overly excited Matty. "What?" Matty reacted.

"Nevermind," George now laughed.

Matty shook his curls out of his face. "Idiot."

"Where are we driving?" Y/n asked as she slowly got more comfortable in the presence of her old classmates.

"I don't know," both Matty and George stated in unison, looking at each other as neither of them had a clue about their destination.

"Maybe we can park the car over there," Matty pointed towards and empty parking space he randomly saw.

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

After George parked the car, Matty quickly left the car to open the door for Y/N.

Their gaze locked for a moment, as she looked up at him from her seat "Uhm.. thank you," she chuckled.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, you're welcome," he waved it off. "Don't mention it."

George rolled his eyes at Matty's silly behaviour. "Ouch!" he squeaked, as Matty stabbed him with his elbow.

"Ah look! A church," Matty stated as the three of them were heading towards one of the city's churches. "Quite stunning, isn't it?"

"It's just a church, mate," George raised an eyebrow at his best friend.

"Shall we sit down on that bench over there? Hope I won't go up in flames. Wouldn't that be fun, huh?" Matty asked.

A slight chuckle left Y/n lips, as she realized that going outside with Matty and George wasn't as bad as she expected. She was actually glad that she picked up that call. A little bit of distraction from her mind and her self-destructive thoughts had been long overdue.

"Do you smoke, Y/n?"

"Nah, it's disgusting."

George threw his head back in heavy laughter before patting Matty's shoulder, who looked at him in his usual clumsy way.

"What is it with you today, George?" Matty asked, shaking his head. "You're acting kinda weird."

"Me? No idea what you're talking about," he kept on laughing.

Y/n was still standing in front on the bench, while only the two boys were sitting.

"Anyway," Matty looked away from George, turning his face toward Y/n. "You know you can actually sit down here beside me." Matty said as his curls were dangling in his eyes again. He pushed them aside with his hand as he continued, "We don't bite, you know?"

"Well, I certainly won't," George still couldn't get over whatever he was laughing about. "But I wouldn't be so sure about Matty."

Matty kicked his foot against George's. "I'm sorry about him. He's usually not like that."

"It's okay, I'd rather keep standing. I just wish I knew what he's laughing about, so I could join in," the blonde girl chuckled.

"No, I think it'd best if he kept it to himself", Matty said with a pointed look at George, his tone firm, implying he should refrain from sharing the source of his amusement. "... wouldn't it, George?"

"Ookayy... this is... weird," Y/n said while observing the two musicians, trying to figure out what was going on.

Matty knew why George was enjoying himself this much, but he didn't want anyone else to know, especially not Y/n. He instantly started to regret that he had told his long kept secret to his best friend earlier that day, since George was on his best way of ruining Matty's well-thought-out plan.

George cleared his throat as he finally pulled himself back together. "Mh, mh...," he hummed. After lighting his own fag he handed the lighter over to Matty so he could light his.

Y/N watched as he blew the smoke out, which slowly meandered all over his face before evaporating into the cold, dark night. As he slowly opened up his eyes, their glances met for a second but she looked down at her feet immediately, to avoid having any more eye contact.

"I kinda miss going to school with you guys," Matty informed them. "Do you miss it too sometimes?"

"Nah, certainly not," George answered, but Matty's eyes were fixed on Y/n.

"Yeah, I do," Y/n chuckled. "Do you know who I miss the most?"

"No, who?" Matty asked, before he quickly added "Ah, no, wait! I know it!"

Y/n raised her eyebrow, waiting for his answer.

"It's me!"

George and Y/n looked at each other before bursting out in laughter.

"Oh damn, Matty. I wish I had an ego as big as yours," Y/n snickered.

"Yeah, well... okay. Who is it then?", Matty shrugged.

"It's Mr. Miller. I kinda miss his bad jokes"

"Haha, yeah, he was such a pervert, though."

"Yeah, I know. That's what made it so funny," she answered.

"I mean, he was only that funny because his jokes were so bad. Ridiculous." George added, slightly chuckling under his breath.

"Wait... doesn't he live over there?" The girl turned around, pointing towards a house across the street from the church.

"Uhm..," Matty thought for a moment before he continued "Yes! He does! He told us about the annoying chimes of the bell tower right in front of his house, didn't he?"

"Yeah, he did. Wow, that's amazing. Come on, let's see if he's home," not even waiting for a response, she started to make her way across the street to Mr. Miller's house.

"Y/n!" Matty whisper-screamed, "Are you insane? It's half 10. He's probably in bed already, shagging his wife or something."

George laughed at Matty's words. "I'm in. This is fun. Come on Matty. Don't be such a wimp." He stood up from the bench they were sitting on, walking over to Y/n.

Matty was still sitting on the bench, his arms crossed in front of his chest like a little kid left behind by his parents.

"Matty!" Y/n turned around to call him once again. "Get your ass up!"

Matty rolled his eyes before he got up, slowly strolling over the street to where is friends stood.

"Who's gonna ring the doorbell?" George asked, looking at Matty, who immediately responded in denial. "Don't look at me like that! I won't do it."

"And you want to call yourself a man? Pathetic." Y/n snapped in annoyance.

Surprised but kind of impressed by her answer, the two boys looked at each other and shrugged.

"I'll do it then," y/n informed them before she rang the doorbell at Mr. Miller's front door.

After waiting for a few seconds with no answer, she decided to ring the bell again.

"I think no one's home.", George said.

"I told you he's under his wife!", Matty stated.

Y/n chuckled as she looked at Matty to respond "Yeah Matty, you might be right. Let's leave then."

"I'm always right. Don't know why no one's ever listening to me," he said as they walked back to their bench across the street.

Now it was only George who sat down again, while Y/n and Matty stood in front of the bench.

"Imagine..," y/n started as she turned around to face Matty "like what if they were really in there..."

"They were!" Matty interrupted her. "Believe me."

They both chuckled in unison at their silly and dirty imagination. As Matty sought eye contact again, she tried to cover up her mouth with her hand, feeling a bit insecure. This time, she didn't look away but locked her gaze with his, looking up at the curly-haired man. Suddenly, something seemed to click in her. The sound of his laughter touched her soul like rays of sunshine, covered in sweet melodies. Like the myelin sheath of axons, allowing them to reach her ears even faster than the speed of light. She didn't yet know that this exact moment would change her life forever. That this exact moment was the start of a series of memories she would never get rid of. She didn't yet know that if a magical creature offered her to relive one day of her life, she would unhesitatingly choose this one.

If she had known all this, she probably would have held onto this moment longer. Maybe her question would have been something like 'Can we stay a bit longer?' or 'Can we make this night last forever?'

But instead, she said "Can we go home now? I'm kinda freezing, and I have to get up very early tomorrow."

"Yeah, sure thing," Matty said. And even though he wanted this rather intimate moment between the two of them to last forever or at least a little bit longer, he slowly loosened his gaze from hers. "George? Come on, off we go."

George stood up, and they slowly walked back to the car, neither of them saying a word. It seemed as if something magical lingered in the air. George had noticed that something had happened between Y/N and his best friend — something that changed the entire atmosphere around them, adorning it with a sweet, metaphorical scent.

🖤[poem 1]🖤

As Matty was about to open the car door, Y/n stopped him. "Look! There's a firefly!"

"Where?" Matty asked, wildly looking around.

"Right there, in your hair," she pointed up to his messy curls. "Wait, don't move." She carefully reached out her finger to his hair, trying to let the little firefly crawl onto it.

"It's so cute, isn't it?" she asked, showing him the insect on her finger.

"It is. I've never actually seen one before. Have you?" he asked while admiring the glowing creature on Y/n's finger.

"No, I haven't."

"Look, there's another one," Matty stated as he pointed his finger in the air next to Y/n's face.

Just a few seconds later, they found themselves surrounded by hundreds of fireflies, their gentle glow illuminating the dark night around them.

George was already sitting in the car as he rolled down the window, curious why his friends were still standing outside of the car. "What's going on out there?" he asked.

Done admiring the fireflies, Y/n and Matty got in the car. "Man, you missed out on something. About a million fireflies were out there!" Matty exaggerated.

"Oh really? I see them all the time in my garden," George answered casually as he started driving.

"You must be kidding!" Matty stated in surprise.

"No, like literally almost every single night!" he laughed and kept on driving towards Y/n's house to drop her off.

🖤[poem 2]🖤

🖤[poem 3]🖤

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

When George stopped the car in front of Y/n's house, she unbuckled her seatbelt, getting ready to leave the car.

"So, uhm... it was nice to hang out with you, guys," Y/n said.

"Yeah..." Matty started before he was cut off by George.

"Yeah, Y/n. I'm pretty sure Matty liked it too," George teased, wriggling his eyebrows.

"Thank you, George," Matty rolled his eyes at him. "But I think I can speak for myself, can't I? I'm a big boy, I suppose." He turned around to face Y/n in the backseat. "So, yeah. I loved it. It was fun. Maybe we can hang out again at the weekend?"

"Yes, I'd love that," she shyly smiled in response.

"Great."

"Okay. Well, goodnight then," she said, opening the door to get out of the car. "See ya, guys!"

"Bye, Y/n!" George waved.

"See ya!" Matty called out of the open window as she was already out of the car, opening her front door, waving goodbye with a smile on her face.

After she disappeared into the house, Matty immediately turned around, confronting George. "You fuckin' idiot!"

"What? What have I done now?" George laughed.

"George, I'm telling you...," Matty warned him. "If you ruin this..."

"I won't ruin anything, mate. I think you need to settle down a bit. Tonight went quite well, didn't it?"

"Yeah... Yeah, I think so," Matty looked outside the window, his tired head resting on his hand, his mind replaying the evening's events like scenes from a movie...

_____________

Let me know what you think xx

[fbfh]

OOOOOH BOY chat we are COOKED!!!!! my insurance is being a little fuckin bitch about covering my adhd meds so I'm out and I have to self medicate with caffeine so espresso!op is back!!!! /lh

anyway almost done with season 3 of young royals and I'm thinking about August falling SO hard and fast for adhd!reader. you are the only person at hillerska who sees through his bullshit and calls him out on it and he HATES it and he can't fucking stay away from you. after you've been together for a while (people still marvel at how weirdly good you are for each other) you seem a little off, and finally fess up to him that there's a shortage of your adhd meds bc assholes keep abusing them or faking adhd to get it as a study drug (you are unaware that august is one of said assholes) so of COURSE he plays it off like "omg how could someone do that!!! that's just awful!!!!"

so despite his historical patterns of self centered douchey behavior and decisions he actually DOES care about you. there's this tiny little redeeming part within him that wants to be good. like lilo and stitch. dating august is like lilo and stitch and I will not elaborate further. anyway he genuinely does his best to help you out until your meds are filled again. he helps you with chores and laundry and stuff (calls in a cleaning service) makes sure you have grab and go meals (orders you a meal prep service and catering from your favorite restaurants) and helps you find your stuff (follows you around and keeps your keys wallet and phone on a shelf high enough for you to not reach that way you don't misplace them again). he listens to you ramble when you're feeling hyperactive and chatty, he lets you lay on his lap and watch bits of dust float through the air for hours on end when you're feeling inattentive. if you need to stim he'll take you to some indoor gymnastics trampoline park thing and let you go nuts, and if you use caffeine to self medicate when you're off your meds by GOD he will have espresso and energy drinks on tap for you. he won't mind when you wake him up at night because you can't sleep or keep moving around because you can't get comfy, he'll make sure you get where you need to go on time and act as your personal human planner. even if he needs to pick you up and carry you (which he will if necessary), he won't let you start stressing out about forgetting stuff. if you feel bad about it at all, if you feel like you're asking too much of him or being a burden, he will shut that shit down so fast. it's hard work, but he wants to do this, he wants to take care of you. he still won't tell you that he had a faking adhd for meds phase, but after seeing what you go through, he vows never to take prescription stimulants again. he'll make sure no one else in his circle does either - except vincent, who's actually diagnosed and has to regularly remind August that he is in fact supposed to be taking adderall whenever it comes up. August has so much more respect for you and for neurodivergent people in general after that. he didn't think karma really existed before, but he sure as fuck does now, and he might think a little more about tempting her by doing something douchey next time. even if he doesn't, he has you to keep him in line.

[lostinwildflowers]

Romantic Flight

Katsuki Bakugou x Reader

Summary: Katsuki is the Chieftain's son, and a lot of pressure is on his shoulders to be the best. He finds comfort in you; as you do in him. He can't bring himself to tell you his feelings until a threat imposes itself on your friendship.

Word Count: 4.1K

Warnings: Swearing(it's Bakugou), mutual pining, harsh language, best friends to lovers, also kind of idiots to lovers, angst to fluff, also slightly hurt/comfort, happy ending!!!

A/N: HI GUYS!!! I'm so excited to share this fic with y'all! This is the first of 5 HTTYD x MHA fics that I'll be writing over the next while! Please let me know how you liked it! I don't really write for Bakugou that much, so any feedback is appreciated. Much love! -Birch<3

Useful Info:

Naugost - pronounced Nuh-gaw-st (not like August)

Tyr - Named after the Norse God of War

Romantic Flight - by John Powell - The inspiration for this piece!

Part ii. Dragon Island- Eijiro Kirishima x Reader

Part iii. To Befriend a Dragon - Shoto Todoroki x Reader

This is Naugost. Most of the year, it’s warmer than the fire from an angry Nadder, with winds that will knock most people off of their feet, minus Mrs. Hoster, she’s sturdier than a Gronkle.

This island is so far off the maps that not even migrating dragons could find us. That’s how our village likes it, secluded and safe up in the mountains of Naugost, where we thrive off of the deep valley set in the middle of our island.

At the edge of the valley, set next to the waterfall that nourishes our farmland, is the house of the Chieftain, and his son, Katsuki. The chief is hardly ever around, always leading patrols to protect the edges of our territory, and making sure there is no contact with the outside world.

And his son? Well, Katsuki doesn’t always agree with him. He wants to expand our tribe, so he often sneaks out to explore. His desire to leave and escape made him competitive, and that’s where our story begins.

“Tyr, what the hell are you doing?!” the shout comes, the blonde-haired man’s voice deep and angry. The Monstrous Nightmare he was sitting upon, Tyr, was glaring up at him, smoke drifting from his nostrils in anger with his rider.

“Y/n’s getting away, she’s gonna beat us in this damn race if you don’t get your ass in gear!” Katsuki yells at the dragon, pointing to your disappearing figure over the small hill. The deep ruby-colored dragon growled at Katsuki, but lunged after your Deadly Nadder regardless, rushing forward so fast Katsuki yelped as he flew backward.

He managed to stay on, though, and clung to Tyr’s horns as he glared down at his dragon. Katsuki could hear your whoop and holler as your dragon threw the last sheep into your net, securing your win. Bakugou groans as he flies over the finish line, where you had landed your dragon, Gretta, and was smiling mischievously up at him.

“Shut your damn mouth,” Katsuki grumbles as he lands next to you, “This damn dragon won’t listen to me one damn bit.” A laugh falls from your lips as you pet Gretta on the neck, and you take in the appearance of your someday chieftain-to-be.

His golden locks were long and shaggy, with just a few braids at the base of his neck, one with a charm you had gifted him last year. He wore his flight suit, the deep red tones of his armor and padding matching the deep red set to his eyes, and the under colors of Tyr’s wings.

You blink once to stop your ogling, but a smile regains your lips as you snap back, “Maybe you should actually train your dragon instead of just ordering him around.” There was no malice behind your words, just a twinkle in your eye that you knew would just push Katsuki over the edge.

“You want to fight me?! I’ll whoop your ass right now,” he yelled as he slid down Tyr’s wing and to the ground, but as he marched up to Gretta, Tyr knocked him to the side with his head, the dragon heading straight for your outreached hand.

A soft chuff falls from the dragon’s mouth, and Katsuki frowns at the sight of his dragon being so affectionate toward you. You slide onto the ground as well, petting Tyr on the nose before glancing over at your best friend, who was picking himself up off the ground.

“Doesn’t look like I need to, Katsuki,” you giggle as you offer him your hand, which he rolls his eyes at, but begrudgingly takes your hand, knowing the crowd was watching you two.

You two were the perfect pair- the chieftain’s son and a council woman’s daughter. It was almost like the two of you were made to lead your island, but you both were set on being friends.

Katsuki grunts as you haul him to his feet, giving him a firm clap on the back as you smile and wave at the crowd, who was cheering for the both of you. The blonde was quiet next to you, and at first, you think he was sulking, but when you turn to look at him, he was already looking at you.

He’s looking at the way your (colored) eyes take in the members of your tribe. He’s noticing the way your hair is windswept from the intensity of the race. He sees the kindness in your body language as you wave to your family and friends in the crowd. He sees how beautiful you look.

He knew you were an amazing person, he wouldn’t be friends with anyone less than extraordinary. But he liked the fire to your soul, the sparks that seemed to fly when he was around you. In every way you were electricity and fire, everything he could ever dream of in a woman.

And that’s why he couldn’t tell you his feelings. You were too perfect for him, and he was already lucky enough to have you as a best friend.

“Kats? You okay?” you ask gently as you wave your hand in front of him, his frame freezing when he realized he was caught. He shakes his head back and forth to clear his mind before he nods at you with a frown.

“I can’t believe you beat me. Again,” is all he says as he stalks off, and you roll your eyes at him but follow his figure as he walks off. You give two short whistles over your shoulder, and the two dragons fly off, released from the pressures of the race.

“You’ll get me next time,” you say softer, a gentle smile resting on your lips as you playfully bump your hip into his own, his body not even flinching at your assault.

Then, fast as lightning, he moves.

His right hand comes up to pin both of your wrists above your head, trapping your body flat against a beacon tower. Katsuki’s knee lands between your thighs, parting them open as he leans in close to you.

Your heart slams against the walls of your ribcage, suddenly silent at the close proximity. You can feel heat rushing over your face, and you knew it wasn’t because of the Naugost winds.

“Gotcha,” is all he whispers, his voice deepening a few tones as his eyes drop to your lips and then back. Your mouth is parted open, your (colored) orbs dancing back and forth with his own red ones, panic and nerves running through you.

“Ehm, excuse me?” a soft voice cuts in, and Katsuki releases you slowly, holding your gaze as he takes a step back and spins around.

“What do you want?” his voice is harsh, not soft like how it was with you a few moments ago. You see red hair over Katsuki’s shoulder, and recognition runs through you.

“Kirishima!” you yelp as you slide around Katsuki, lunging toward the tall redhead in a makeshift hug. Kirishima laughs as you jump into his arms, swinging you around once before setting you on the ground.

“Great job out there, Racing Queen,” Kirishima jokes, and Katsuki frowns at the simple nickname. When did you start talking to Kirishima? Katsuki thinks, taking a step back and watching the two of you chat for a moment.

The blonde sees the way your eyes light up when you talk to the burly blacksmith, how excitedly you talk with your hands as you explain how you won. It pissed him off. He hated how at ease you seemed with this other guy, this guy that he didn’t know that well, but knew couldn’t treat you as well as he could.

“Oi, Y/n, I’m leaving,” is all he says, turning on foot before walking away from you. You can see the dejected slope to his shoulders, and you assume he’s upset from his second loss to you at the sheep contest.

Kirishima also watches him go and mumbles, “Kinda feel bad for him, you know? You’ve been him twice in a row now, that’s hard on the chief’s son.” You sigh and shrug, “Yeah, but he’s my best friend, he’ll pout for a bit and then get over it.”

But would he? What was that moment against the beacon tower? He was… different. 

You can’t stop the swirl of thoughts in your head, but you are interrupted when Kirishima rubs at the back of his neck and bashfully starts, “So, I was thinking, we’ve been hanging out for a while now, and I think you’re pretty cool. Would you maybe want to go on a date with me?”

Your body stills at the question. A date? With Kirishima? You blink up at the burly man. Once. Twice, and then it clicks in your head that you need to answer him.

“Sorry!” you blurt out, rubbing at your eyes before glancing in the direction Katsuki left. You put on a bit of a fake smile but reply, “Sorry, I’m a bit tired from my race. I’d say that sounds nice, but I really need to go check on Katsuki right now. I’ll chat with you later? At the Great Hall?”

You don’t miss the way Kirishima’s face drops, and you feel your chest tighten at the crestfallen look on his handsome features. It wasn’t that you didn’t like him- there wasn’t anything you disliked about Kirishima.

He was tall, handsome, and had a great job. He worked hard to provide for himself and his mother and even helped out the other farmers when he had time. Kirishima had one of the best personalities in your tribe, and there were plenty of women lined up to talk to him.

He was sweet, kind, and overall a gentleman. But there was something missing, and you didn’t quite know what it was.

Kirishima wasn’t anything like Katsuki, you reasoned. Katsuki was your best friend, and strong in so many other aspects. He was an incredible fighter, he was very strong, and always protective over the weak. He had empathy but only showed it to those who deserved to see it.

As the chieftain’s son, you knew he bore a pressure on his shoulders, but he did it so well you hardly could notice. Katsuki would make an excellent leader and father someday.

Father? Where’d that come from? You wonder, a soft warmth rushing over your cheeks and a wave of butterflies flooding your belly. You’re brought back to Kirishima in front of you when he shuffles on his feet and nods, “Sounds good, Y/n, I’ll catch up with you later. Great job on your race today!”

You thank him as he turns away, his shoulders also slumping down in defeat. You watch him walk away but glance back to where Katsuki disappeared too.

Little did you know, Katsuki had stopped around the corner, listening to Kirishima ask you out. After the word “date” came out of the redhead’s mouth, Katsuki left. He didn’t want to hear you accept another man’s courtship with him present.

You were his best friend. You were the one he had axe-throwing competitions with. You were the one he raced against to catch the most sheep. Hell, you were even the one to challenge him to see who could catch the biggest fish bare-handed.

You did everything together, so why did you want to choose Kirishima? Katsuki couldn’t help the thoughts from flooding his brain, so he set out to where he knew no one would find him.

—

Three long whistles fell from his lips as he settled into his saddle on Tyr’s back, the Monstrous Nightmare seemingly having calmed down from the race. The sun was setting over the central ravine of Naugost, and Katsuki knew most people would be setting out for the Great Hall for dinner after the race.

He didn’t really feel like having his loss shoved in his face, so he set out for Brokeback Point, the furthest edge north of the island, where the cliffs were steep and no one dared to rest. Waves crashed against the steep red crags, the roar of the water helping to quiet the racing thoughts in his head.

His thoughts of you. He knew he needed to tell you eventually, but with how happy you seemed with Kirishima, he didn’t think he could ruin it. A sigh falls from his mouth as he rubs at his eyes, and Tyr lays down next to the chieftain’s son, resting his head on Katsuki’s lap.

Katsuki huffs once, but keeps his mouth shut, instead rubbing the dragon on his snout and watching the sunset to his west. It was peaceful, being out here alone. It was half the reason why Katsuki didn’t want to become chief.

He enjoyed his freedom, being able to fly off to other islands, and mark all the different kinds of dragons around, and what habitats they liked. He wanted to know if there were people around, and if they were going to be a threat to his home. To you.

It was so much, sometimes, being the chief’s son, and that’s why he found so much solace in you. You understood him better than anyone, you were there for him when he needed a shoulder to lean on.

That’s why he-

No. Katsuki’s crimson eyes flutter shut at the thought, his brow creasing into a frown. He couldn’t think those words about you, not yet at least. Not when you were wrapped up in the arms of another man.

The sound of wings flapping a moment later has his eyes snapping back open. It was the figure of a dragon that was headed straight for him, the sun setting behind the beast, only leaving the figure outlined by its silhouette.

Tyr raises his head but takes a deep breath to smell the air before relaxing his neck back to the ground and shutting his eyes to rest. Katsuki glances at the relaxed state of his dragon at the approaching shape in front of him.

A Nadder. Not just any Nadder. Gretta.

The purple-tinged dragon lands further inland than Katsuki and Tyr, and you slide off of her silently as you walk toward the pair. Katsuki sends a silent prayer to the gods to help him stay calm and normal as you walk up to him, a silent air about you.

“How did you find me,” is all he says. It’s not even worded as a question, it’s more an open-ended statement. Your face is stoic, but you take a step toward him, shrugging your shoulders once.

“I have a Deadly Nadder, remember? One of the best trackers out there. And,” you glance off toward the sunset, where you see a Thunderdrum jump up out of the water and fly off toward a distant island. But you continue, looking him straight in the eye, “You weren’t at dinner, and you didn’t seem okay when Kirishima showed up.”

Katsuki groans and turns away from you before muttering, “I don’t want to hear about that damn redhead.” You’re quiet, calculating a response. You don’t get the chance to say anything, because he pipes back up, “Listen, I know you’re here to tell me about how you accepted his courtship invitation. I’m happy for you.”

Katsuki’s voice was anything but happy though. It was strained, a tension to his voice you’d never heard, and you place a hand on his shoulder to try to get him to face you.

You try, “Kats-” “Just leave it,” he cuts you off and knocks your hand off of his shoulder, “I want you to be happy, even if that means you marry that big dumb blacksmith.” “Katsuki!” you yell, your eyes closing in frustration.

The blonde turns toward you then, shock evident on his features at the heightened sound of your voice. You sigh and take a step forward, facing him shoulder to shoulder.

You grab his right hand with your own, his palm rough and calloused from his training. Katsuki is silent as he watches you, his eyes sharp and waiting, not so different from Tyr’s fiery gaze.

“I didn’t,” you whisper. Katsuki’s red gaze bores into your own (colored) one, but no recognition flashes over his features, so you insist, “I didn’t, you know, accept his offer. I couldn’t.”

“Stop joking,” is all he replies with, moving to tug his hand out of your own, even though it's the last thing he wants to do. “Katsuki Bakugou, shut the hell up and listen to me,” you state firmly, your grip tightening on his large palm.

-Start music-

He freezes at the use of his full name and the curse words, something you never say, and you take the opportunity to thread your fingers through his own. You can feel the intensity of his gaze on you, and you know how tense the moment is just by how still he is.

“I didn’t accept his offer,” you say again, and you shuffle on your feet as you squeeze his hand, “But I didn’t deny it either.” You can see the hope in his eyes start to fade out, the idea of you still wanting Kirishima lingering in his mind.

“Kirishima is nice,” you murmur, “He’s kind, and handsome.” You can feel Katsuki’s body harden at your praise of the redhead, but you continue, “He’s always nice to the dragons when fitting them at the smithery, and he even picks flowers with the village’s little girls.”

Katsuki shuts his eyes and whispers, “Please, Y/n, don’t tell me how much you like another man to my face,” and then they reopen and he finishes, “I don’t think my heart can take it.”

You just give him a smile and bring your intertwined hands up to rest over your heart. You hold his gaze evenly and you push, “Kirishima is great. But he’s not amazing.”

The blonde-haired man swallows thickly, but stays quiet as you mumble, “He’s not the chieftain’s son. He’s not a hardened viking that knows every in and out of our island.”

This catches Katsuki’s attention, and his eyes widen as your voice and words overtake his brain, “He’s not my best friend, he’s not the one who whoops my ass in axe-throwing competitions, and he’s not the one who takes me fishing in the summer.”

The smile is growing on your face, and you suddenly get shy and look down at your boots as you mumble out, “He’s not you, Katsuki.”

You hear your name fall off Katsuki’s lips, but you don’t look up. He says your name louder this time, using his free hand to cup your cheek and tilt your face up to meet his crimson gaze.

“What are you trying to say?” is what he says. He needed to know if you were saying what he thought you were trying to say.

You lean into his touch, somehow both familiar and foreign, there was a softness to this touch you’d never felt, and you gaze into his eyes as you utter, “It’s you, Kats. It’s always been me and you.”

You see his gaze soften, and the weight of you being with another lover is lifted off of his shoulders. He leans into you, his nose brushing against your own as his forehead rests against your own. You can feel a new, intense wave of butterflies rush through your stomach at the intimacy of this touch, one you’d never experienced before with anyone.

Katsuki’s voice comes out deep and gravelly when he asks, “Y/n, how will you have me? Will you have me as your own? Or just as-” “Shut up and kiss me already,” you rush out, pulling him closer to you by his shoulder.

A groan falls from his lips at your demand, but he’s not one to argue as he leans forward, capturing your lips for himself. It’s everything he’d ever imagined and more. It's different. Your mouth was sweet, the tang of apple cider hanging onto the edges of your lips.

You were warm against him, soft and pliable in his hands. Katsuki slides his hand from cupping your face to the back of your head, grabbing your neck, and pulling you flush against him. You gasp at the movement, and he takes that opportunity to deepen the kiss, his teeth coming to bite down on your lower lip before swiping his tongue across it as an apology.

The growls and rumbles of your dragons behind you make the two of you pull away, and while you swivel your head to look at the two peeping flying reptiles, Katsuki is left watching you.

When you turn back toward him, you see an intensity to his gaze that makes you lower your eyes, but he tuts and gains your attention before whispering, “Lady Y/n L/n of Island Naugost, will you do me the honors and go on a flight with me?”

You giggle at the cheesiness of his ask, something so out of character for him, but you nod with a wide grin and respond, “Chieftain-to-be Katsuki Bakugou of Island Naugost, I would love to go on a flight with you.”

He smirks down at you, leaning in slowly to press a chaste kiss to your lips before pulling away, throwing out three short whistles, and bringing Tyr to your sides. He rubs your neck softly before releasing his grip on you, climbing up to sit in Tyr’s saddle before offering you his hand.

“Milady?” he asks, his fingers reaching for your own. You glance toward Gretta before looking back at the blonde waiting for you and you give her two short whistles, and she immediately heads back towards the mainland.

You clasp onto Kastsuki’s hand, and he pulls you up into the saddle behind him, giving you the chance to wrap your arms around his waist. Tyr reaches back to nuzzle your foot, and you smile down at the moody Monstrous Nightmare as you settle into your seat.

“Are you ready?” Katsuki checks in, glancing over his shoulder only to find you resting your chin on the pad of his armor. He feels his heart flutter in his chest at the distant look in your eyes, and turns back straight to hide the pink dusting his cheeks. And it wasn’t from the sunset.

Tyr shuffles to the edge of the cliff, the deep oranges from the sunset glinting in harmony with the deep red of his scales, and in a few large flaps of his wings, the three of you are airborne. Katsuki lets Tyr fly smoothly around several small islands and rocky outposts on the outskirts of the island, the only sound being the pull of air on your clothes, the flapping of wings, and crashing from the water below you.

While flying wasn’t new to you in any sense, there was something so intimate and caring about the way Katsuki flew Tyr around. You could feel the connection between the two of them, and while they disagreed occasionally, like earlier in the day at the race, you knew they had a deep and intricate bond.

You lean forward from where your chin was resting on Katsuki’s shoulder and gently press them against his cheek in a soft kiss. His cheek is warm under your touch, and he turns toward you as you pull away, his eyes catching the shyness in your own (colored) gaze.

“C'mere,” he mumbles, turning so that you could slide up and into his lap. He made sure Tyr was flying smoothly before pulling you around to sit in front of him, with your back to Tyr’s head.

You were facing Katsuki, and with the sun setting behind him, he was gorgeously backlit. His features were hardened, yes, but the soft light helped smooth out his usual frown and scowl. 

He looked down at you and brushed a stray piece of hair behind your ear before whispering, “I’m not sure where we go from here, but we go together, alright?” You nod and offer him your hand, “When we get back to the Great Hall, I want us to be together.”

Katsuki cracks a smirk and taking your hand, mutters, “Hell, you can’t get rid of me now, Y/n/n, you’re stuck with me.” You giggle, which quickly becomes a playful scream as Katsuki grabs back onto Tyr’s horns and you are whisked off into the light of the dying sun.

A lifetime of memories of just being friends with Katsuki would remain at the front of your mind, but you were excited to see where this flight would take you. And while your future was uncertain with the tough blonde-haired viking, you knew that he was going to protect you until his last breath.

[deadboyfriendd]

"I will not know gentleness in the way I love you"

BISBEE

1890's Wild West AU, in the events following Cochise Sheriff!Steve Harrington x Reader

High on the hill, where the fox horns blow And down in the grave where they lay me low Catholic girl, pray for me You're my only hope for heaven

Before Cochise, before the dark stranger reaped his morosity in a dusty toll of scraping spurs and gunsmoke, there was the sheriff. He was there before anyone, and would remain there long after they left. He is a man of constant and perpetual sorrow, though he writes the sweetest letters you have ever read.

This is not the man you know.

Though, are you really the same woman in your letters? One time and your cousin, Nellie, will tell.

Content Warnings: My content is 18+, minors and ageless blogs do not interact. Outlaw!Eddie, Sheriff!Steve, minor character death, depictions of capital punishment in the Wild West, alcohol, drug use, death of a spouse, childbirth in the old west, smut, angst, mutual pining, gun use, smoking, hurt/comfort.

The Letters Death is a Woman 3 April, 1894 24 April, 1894 12 May, 1894 2 June, 1894 22 June, 1894 12 July, 1894 2 August, 1894 22 August, 1894 12, September 1894 22, September 1894

The Story I Hope This Letter Finds You Well

See the playlist here!

[sophi4sdi4ry]

August

eddie munson x fem reader

summary: Eddie Munson hates summer, despises it actually. Hates the bonfires at the lake, the hot July mornings, and the bubblegum pop leaking from store radios. His only safe haven in all of Hawkins was Langley’s Music Shop, though his safe zone was quickly inhabited by the likes of Y/N Y/L/N, the living embodiment of a summers day.

word count: 1.7k

a.n: This story’s so cute, but i have no clue how many parts i want it to be :(

_________________________________________

Summer was inescapable, an incessant hum that lingered in the air and leaked into his pores. It left his skin slick and his hair frizzed to the heavens, stuck to him like dew on a morning lawn. He hated the bronze hue of his skin during this time of year, the burning red marks on his cheeks as though Mother Nature had slapped him with a firm palm. All things considered, Eddie Munson despised summer.

He believed it was his greatest enemy, the horned devil on his shoulder he could never seem to flick away. However, whenever the Munson boy voiced his hatred for the torturous season he was met with nothing but appalled gasps and eyes lost in confusion. "It's the best time of year," they'd say, with their sun-spotted skin and chlorine soaked hair. "It's hot and miserable," he'd reply with his t-shirt tan and sweat-rimmed hair. They always chocked it up to his freakish nature, he never understood why. It felt almost forbidden to hate summer in Hawkins, Indiana.

So, he watched from a distance as town-goers and visitors alike basked in the cloudless days, licking melted ice cream off their knuckles and consuming coca-cola like a lifeline. It seemed everywhere Eddie walked he heard the slap of flip-flops, the continual click-clack, click-clack, of rubber kissing pavement. He found himself waiting for September, when satin clouds would block the beams of sun and the town of Hawkins would be quiet once more. At least then he could enjoy peace. At least then, he could put his campaigns into action. But for now, he reveled in the silence of the music shop.

It was his favorite place, owned by an old woman who always commented on the length of his hair. "It's gotten so long," she'd say, to which he would laugh and mumble an incoherent list of products he used. The metal section was always well stocked, stacks upon stacks of cassette tapes free for the taking, like his own personal oasis in the heart of the dismal town. For the most part he was the shops sole patron, however on occasion some townie would stumble upon the shop on their way to the nearby diner. He'd seen it all, teenage boys browsing the Mötley Crüe display, older patrons perusing the vintage section, teenage girls rushing to purchase Kate Bush's newest album. He never paid them any mind, not even when they shot him harsh glances and averted his gaze.

It was the last Tuesday of July when he stumbled into the infamous music shop, grumbling about the sun and his broken air conditioner. Mrs. Langley smiled at him, and watched as his sweat-coated figure retreated towards the metal section as it always had. He flipped through the cassette tapes, fingers grazing over the untouched stacks, the faint hum of Suspicious Minds playing on the store radio. Eddie had been so lost in his own music selection that he failed to notice the toll of the store bell, nor the slam of the door and the creak of its hinges. The music shops newest patron, a teenage girl dressed like the personification of a summers day, had gone completely unnoticed.

"Good morning," she greeted, a crooked smile spread across glossy pink lips.

Mrs. Langley stared up at the girl, her glasses perched on the hook of her nose. The sun-freckled girl stood before her with chunky blonde highlights and an accent that reeked of southern origins.

"You don't happen to have any ABBA here, do you?" She asked, perching her sunglasses on the crown of her head and glancing at the stores displays.

"It's gonna be in that corner and a little to the left," Mrs. Langley replied gesturing towards the right side of the store.

She rummaged slightly through the shelves, red nails flicking away at the cassettes hoping to find The Visitors album that had been absent from her ever growing collection. The aisle had been inundated by the wails of her popping knees and frustrated sighs as she searched the shelves every nook and cranny to no avail. She continued westward, hoping her silent prayers would allow her to find the album hidden beneath a shelf, or misplaced in the punk-rock section.

The further she had detoured from the comfort of the pop section, the more apprehensive she had become. The art adorning the album covers grew darker, reds and blacks replacing the familiar neons and pastels. She hadn't been unfamiliar with this genre of music, hearing the music in short bursts whenever she fiddled with her radio. She had been turned away by the loudness of it, the fast-paced beat and incomprehensible lyrics indigestible to her. She never expected to find anyone in the section, the town of Hawkins having fervently rallied behind the notion of metal music being the gateway to satanism.

She was quickly proven wrong in her assumption that metal heads were extinct in the town of Hawkins, having rammed into a boy in front of the Dio display. His tapes were quickly scattered across the black carpet, silent curses fleeing his lips as he bent to pick them up.

"Shit, I'm sorry," She cursed, bending down to retrieve his copy of Megadeath's newest album.

Eddie stared up at her, her freckled arm outstretched with his albums in hand. He could hardly believe his eyes, attempting to blink away his suspected psychosis as he gawked at the sight. Y/N Y/L/N, the transfer student plucked straight from the plains of Georgia, was perusing the Dio display. It was impossible. He knew her, or he supposed he knew of her. The girl who never knew how to dress appropriately for the frigid Hawkins winter, who spent her days daydreaming of blue skies and bonfires at the lake. Most importantly, the girl who always hummed to the beat of a pop song, her sultry hums dripping like nectar from the back of her throat as she strolled through the town. What was she doing here?

"That covers really something, huh?" Y/N joked, handing him the casing for Megadeaths newest album. His brows furrowed together, his forehead creasing as he stared back at her. She hadn't meant for it to come out judgmental, having been so eager to fill the silence she hadn't filtered her words. "Sorry! I just meant that the cover looks cool, you know?"

"Oh yeah, I mean, sure, it's pretty cool."

Similar to many of his peers at Hawkins High, he didn't know what to say to her. Her endless talk of parties, and summer, and how she missed her dingy hometown, had never been anything he could resonate with. Luckily for him, the girl was skilled in stifling silence.

"Yeah, I've never really listened to this kind of stuff, I mean like I've heard it on the radio, but I've never stopped to really listen to it," Y/N said, reaching for the Dio album that still lay on the carpet next to the tassel of her sandal.

She had been so preoccupied tracing the lettering on the album cover, she had failed to notice him conceal a small burst of laughter.

"Yeah, I um," Eddie laughed again, his palm pulling the album out from beneath her tan fingers. "I figured that much."

"You figured that much," Y/N mimicked his words, pulling a manicured hand to her chest so as to feign offense. "What if I was like some secret Metallica fan, or something. What would you say then?"

He laughed again. It would've frustrated her had she not enjoyed watching the giggles leap off his tongue.

"Are you a secret Metallica fan?" He quipped.

"No, but what if I was?" She countered, crossing her arms over the denim of her overalls.

"But you aren't," Eddie said, a sense of finality in his voice as he rose from his position on the floor, Y/N quickly following his lead.

"Whatever," Y/N sighed, reaching to grab the cassette tapes she had placed on a nearby shelf. "You're Eddie, right?"

He looked towards her again, stumbling on the tips of his toes as he pulled his brows together once more. Never in a million years would he have guessed she'd know him. Y/N raised a quizzical eyebrow in his direction, quickly realizing the source of his confusion.

"My little sister's obsessed with dungeons and dragons, so you're like a legend to her," Y/N explained, watching as Eddie scoffed slightly, turning away from her once more. "No I'm serious! The second she found out that there was a D&D club she flipped out."

"No shit, really?" Y/N fervently nodded, her fringe bouncing across her forehead and a small laugh of confirmation leaving her mouth. "How old is she? We've been looking to get more members and—"

He rambled on slightly, constellations flashing across his irises at the mention of the fantasy game. It was rare to find a willing player in Hawkins. A small midwestern town chocked full of devoted Christians wasn't necessarily accepting of a game believed to promote devil worship.

"She's thirteen, so you'll have to give it a year before she can actually join the club."

He nodded, disappointment tugging at the corners of his frown. His hopes were built up so quickly, before the girl toppled them to the pilled carpet of the music shop floor. Y/N was apologetic, wide eyes of polished porcelain boring into his own as she shrugged her shoulders. They stood in silence for a moment, hushed breaths mingling between the lyrics of Heartbreak Hotel. He noticed the way she swayed slightly to the melody, weight shifting from heel to toe, toe to heel, as though riding the wave of the chorus. He left her there, humming to herself like a wound up music box, not noticing her peppy wave as he left the aisle.

Y/N waited for the song to finish before gathering her belongings, sandals clacking against the floor to warn Mrs. Langley of her looming presence. The older woman seemed giddy, smile lines like a crescent moon across her cheeks and crows feet extending like tree roots from the corners of her eyes. Y/N had nearly asked what on earth had made the older woman so cheery, but Mrs. Langley had answered the question before it was even uttered.

"That boy that just left." She pointed towards the receding outline of Eddie's white van running over the curb. "Said to give you this," Mrs. Langley said, sliding a copy of Megadeath's latest album across the cedar wood countertop.

[muddyorbsblr]

man of the month outtake: open to sharing

Series Masterlist @mochie85's Masterlist See my full list of works here!

Summary: You try giving Loki his cardigan back at the end of the day

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Word Count: 691

Warnings: none; this is pure fluff [let me know if i missed something!]

Things to be aware of: mutual pining; idiots in love

"Dayum, Tweety, you really got an eye for this, you know that? Is it bad that I wanna choose all of them?" Sam had taken over controlling the cursor on your setup and clicking on every shot that he was partial to. "Could you send me my shots? If it's not too much work. I wanna post some. Y'know, wassup Khloe?" 

You laughed at his antics, agreeing almost immediately to Airdrop him all his shots. "It'll probably even make good promotional content to let people know that a calendar's coming. But we're not there yet. Go nuts, Big Bird. Shoot your shot." 

"You're the best. And remember what I said about climbing that tree, lil birdy. I wasn't kidding." He gave you a quick once over, visibly appraising your outfit. "Someone should tell you this, and if Horns is gonna be too much of a chicken to do it, I will. You look damn fine in green." 

That made you remember real quick that you were still wearing Loki's cardigan. "Fuck shit, I should give this back," you muttered while putting his 'cream of the crop' favorite shot into the August page layout. "Also I probably shouldn't wear this color even if I do look 'damn fine' in it. This is Loki's green, and you know how he gets when people wear 'his' green." 

"Oh yeah, Thunder told us all about how 'wearing someone's colors' on Asgard was like this silent declaration of love." He looked like a lightbulb went off on his head. "You should definitely wear that green more often then." You rolled your eyes at him. "Wear it during his shoot. Maybe you'll have no need for tree climbing and he'll just do you on the set."

"Moving on," you pressed, placing the lettering for 'August' on the page layout as well. "How's this?" 

"You should consider this as a side hustle," he simply commented, punctuating his response with light applause.

"Well I just might, considering that I'm probably gonna lose my spot on this team after what happened this morning," you said, trying to mask your worry with a seemingly lighthearted chuckle. 

"If he tries, even as a joke, I'll kick his ass." He have your shoulder a reassuring squeeze before heading out of your studio with his arms outstretched and a big goofy grin on his face announcing, "It ain't me, y'all!" 

You triple checked your project files for the night, making sure that everything had been backed up to the cloud before shutting off the machine to head out back to your apartment. You could finally start seeing the light at the end of the tunnel now that you were down to the last four shoots. 

By next week, you'd be sending off the calendar to the printing company and your part would be over. And now that your todo list for the project was steadily shrinking, you finally no longer felt the need to pass the night sleeping on the couch, or the bedroom set just so you could get some extra work done. 

Your heart started skipping beats like a DJ in a rave again when you locked up your studio and you caught sight of an all too familiar silhouette standing up from the couch as you stepped out the door. "Oh. Hey, Mischief. You're still here. Perfect," you stammered.

"It is?" You caught the corners of his mouth twitching, almost pulling up into a smile.

"Yep. I could return this to you now," you said as you made a motion to shrug off his cardigan, your heart lodging itself into your throat again when he crossed the distance between you and placed his hands over yours.

"You need not do that, darling." You were sure he could feel your pulse at your fingertips as he laced his fingers with yours. 

"I thought you had a thing about people wearing your colors," you breathed out, surprised you could even form words while he was holding you like this. 

He gave you a devastatingly charming smile as his gaze stayed fixed on yours. "I wouldn't mind sharing, especially when it becomes you so." 

A/N: Just a lil something that I wanted to put into the main chapter, but felt a bit too much like "filler", so I decided to turn it into an outtake/drabble instead.

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