#best compact phone

[sassylightcycle]

The Ultimate Portable Keyboard for ALL Your Devices!

[crazydiscostu]

XKM01 Tri-Fold Bluetooth Keyboard and Mouse Combo

Work can take us from the office to home and everywhere in between. Having the right tools to stay productive on the go is essential. A contender for this practicality top-spot is the Protoarc XKM01 Tri-Fold Bluetooth Keyboard and Mouse Combo – a compact yet powerful solution designed to meet the demands of modern professionals who need flexibility without sacrificing functionality. Who, what,…

[mayumiiyuu]

for your eyes only

smut under the cut, minors dni

⋆｡°✩ thinking about dick grayson and how he loves his perfect, pretty girl so much. his entire gallery is filled with pictures of you; photos of you that look as if they were taken by a professional photographer with just the right lighting as he captures you in all your good angles (though let’s face it—every angle of you is a good angle, especially to him) for you to post on your social media, others are of the two of you on dates, his hand in yours or at the small of your back, or nights in with the two of you wearing face masks and stuffing your mouths with popcorn as you watch trashy reality TV shows or riveting drama series on Netflix.

most of his gallery, however, is filled with candid pictures of you that he takes when you’re not looking or he snaps at just the right moments in order to capture the memory; you putting on lipgloss as you use your compact, pictures of your eyes crinkling at the corners as you laugh heartily at his jokes, or grinning and your eyes twinkling with excitement as you play with the puppy the two of you adopted, or those of you with yours lips pursed and brows furrowed slightly as you concentrated on reading a book or drawing, mind too lost in your imagination and thoughts to notice the his phone’s camera flash in the warm, dim lighting of your room.

but his favorite pictures are concealed in a separate folder, one that requires a password and is guarded by several protections to keep others from potentially seeing or hacking into it. in all honesty though, most of these are videos of you that he likes to look at on those late nights he has to be away from you, just like tonight.

dick’s hand wraps around his cock, thumb rubbing over his thick, leaking tip, copying as best as he could how you’d hold him in your soft hands, pumping his fist up and down his shaft, desperate for some semblance of you as his eyes are glued to his screen, the sounds of his own voice echoing in his earphones (as if he’d ever risk anyone else hearing the sounds you’d make for him).

“pussy’s so good f’me, pretty,” he moans in the video as his hand spreads your folds, watching intently on how your cunt greedily stretches around his cock. “fuck—won’t last long, baby. you’re so fuckin’ tight.” he groans, burying himself inside you as you whine and moan and mewl against his hips snapping at your ass, each of his thrusts causing the fat of it to jiggle, until he finally pulls out, his cum painting your ass with creamy white ropes. but he’s not done yet, not when he scoops up some of it on his fingers and brings it up to your mouth— the good girl that you were for him, your tongue immediately darts out as you suck on his digits, and he lets out another groan; though this time dick isn’t sure if the sound is emanating from the video or from his own lips.

he scrolls through the folder, before landing on his favorite picture of you, knees pressed to your chest, legs spread so beautifully for him, the tip of his cock just a little bit cut off from the frame, your wet hole leaking with his cum, a blissed out, cockdrunk smile on your lips as your eyes catch in the light of the camera’s flash.

just thinking about that time with you is enough to make him finally cum from his own hand, imagining his fist was your tight cunt he loves so much.

he sighs, sweat trickling down his forehead as he slowly comes down from his high—only for him to perk up once again, blood rushing towards his cock when he sees a notification pop on on his screen: a message from you.

‘for your eyes only❣️” it read.

man, was he lucky to have you.

[luveline]

could i request spencer x bombshell!reader where maybe spencer and the team meet reader’s ex boyfriend / a guy she used to be interested in and he’s sooo different from spencer so he assumes her flirting is a joke but really she never had a type until she met spencer n now she’s only into nerdy, sweater-vest wearing sweethearts <3

love ur work sm i only read spencer fics but i read all your characters bc the writing is so intoxicating !!

thank you for your request angel! <3 1k, fem

Spencer looks adorable today. You’re not sure if he knows, but that can be easily rectified. 

“Spencer Reid,” you say sternly. 

He’s immediately wide-eyed and sorry. “What?” he asks, pouting. 

“You have some explaining to do.” You glare, taking your compact from your pocket. You open it, check your appearance, fighting a huge smile as you flick the mirror on him accusingly. “So, what do you have to say for yourself?” 

“I don’t get it.” His eyes jump between the mirror and you. “Sorry?” 

“You should be sorry. Do you see how nice you look today?” He rolls his eyes. “Hey, don’t act like you don’t know what I mean.”

You and Spencer have known each other for years now, and you love him. You’d die for him easily in the field, and out of it too, but you’re not together and he’s bad at accepting compliments, so he shrugs you off like you’re only teasing him. 

“My handsome partner,” you say. Even if he isn’t your boyfriend, that’s your loophole. You and Spencer get paired for everything these days, because you’re best friends and Hotch has given up on separating you (though professionally there’s no need). “I could eat you.” 

“Still mildly threatening, then,” a voice says. 

You spin in your chair, shocked and a little horrified to find the last person you wanted to see here in Connecticut. “Cory!” you say, knowing he’ll believe you’re enthusiasm if nobody else. 

“Hi, beautiful. You weren’t gonna call me?” 

Your lips pop as you reply, “I was definitely going to, just as soon as we weren’t on the clock. How are you?” you ask, standing to receive the hug you know he’s going to give. 

Cory is… well, he’s gorgeous, though that hadn’t been why you had fun with him when you were here last. He’d seemed nice enough and plainly interested in you at the time, and you’d been sort of lonely, so really he was a necessity of the soul rather than a want. Plus, he was very rich. 

Gorgeous he may be, but Spencer Reid he is not. You don’t deny it to yourself —the genius behind you has completely changed your type, the kind of man you vy after, and if you’re honest, he’s the one for you. So hugging Cory and pretending you’re going to call him for drinks after the case is over isn’t easy. You lie rather than reject him.

“He seemed nice,” Spencer says in the awkward silence Cory leaves behind. 

“Sure!” you say, blowing out a hot breath. “Was I embarrassing myself? I didn’t expect to see him.” 

“You were the same as usual.” 

You tilt your head back as the door opens again, worried it’ll be Cory back for a last word. Emily smiles at you knowingly, a bag of takeout in hand. “God, did you see that?” she asks, eyebrows rising. “He was perfect.” 

“If you like the Greek god motif,” you joke. 

Spencer’s frowning at his files when you turn back to him. “Spence, what’s wrong?” you ask. 

“Mm? Nothing.”

“You sure?” you ask. 

He maintains that he’s okay as the rest of the team flood in for lunch. You pretend to believe him, not sure what you’ve done to upset him but willing to figure it out. You unwrap his food for him and place his plastic cutlery on a napkin as you know he prefers, sorting through the cup drinks to find his diet lemonade. “Here, handsome,” you say, touching his shoulder gently as you sit down next to him. 

He bristles. 

“Spencer?” you ask. 

He looks around the table. Hotch and Rossi are talking about something with shared smiles, while JJ and Morgan debate the case. Emily’s on her phone with a straw between her lips. They aren’t listening, and so he says, “It’s not a fitting nickname.” 

“What, handsome? That’s not a nickname, it’s a pet name, and it’s true. You’re one of the most handsome guys I’ve ever seen,” —you laugh and grab his elbow when he shakes his head— “are you kidding? Spencer, you could be a model. I’ve told you this a hundred times. You have amazing cheekbones, just dreamy, and your lips–”

“Oh, god, please don’t start,” he says, covering his face with both hands. He sounds like he’s smiling. “I shouldn’t have said anything.” 

Hotch shoots you a don’t tease look. You send him a vehement I’m not back, waiting for him to look away before you prod Spencer again. “You’re so cute, Spencer, you don’t get it.” 

“I don’t wanna be cute, cute isn’t your type–”

Your eyes flare. “What would you know about my type, Spencer? Is this– is this about Cory?” 

“Of course it is,” he says, face pink as he drops his hands. 

“Spencer, he is not my type.” 

“But you dated.”

“One date. And that was before I realised I liked dorks in sweater vests,” you say. You’re both acting like this is half a joke, a skit, in case you’re overheard, but you’re also both well aware that it’s serious and vulnerable and flustering to confess certain things right here and now. Too bad it has to be done. “I miss your glasses, babe, they really added to your charm.” 

Spencer shakes his head, picking up his styrofoam boxed lunch to ignore you. 

You sidle close to him, your pinky finger rubbing the slightest hint of his bare wrist. “Wanna get drinks with me tonight? I need a cover story in case Grecian Cory tracks me down. And, you know you get that really cute blush when you drink. What do you say?” 

“No,” he says with a smile, which means yes in this instance.

You kiss his cheek, giggling at the lipgloss left behind. “You’re my type, handsome.”

[sailortongue]

Number 7's Number

pairing: Kenji sato x reader

summary: with a promotion on the line, you are thrilled to have the opportunity to speak to Kenji Sato during a press conference, but you get more from him than anticipated

an: based on this!

--------

Kenji Sato. Currently the most popular player in the league. A legend in the making, some say. A Golden Glove Award, a Silver Slugger Award, and personal stats that easily place him among the best players on the field, it’s no wonder he was a fan favorite. Not to mention he was easy on the eyes.

Needless to say, you jumped at the opportunity to attend his upcoming press conference. You gave yourself a onceover in the mirror for the final time and double checked your list of pre-prepared questions before grabbing your car keys and heading out. You rehearsed your questions the entire drive to the venue. You had a promotion riding on this, so you’d be mortified if you made a fool of yourself on national television.

A short drive later, you were in the parking lot, anxiously sitting in the driver’s seat and scrutinizing your makeup in a compact. And thank goodness you did, else you would have been talking to the most handsome man you had ever laid on with lipstick on your teeth. You took a deep breath to calm your nerves before exiting the vehicle and approaching the building. There were both signs and security to direct you to the room the press conference would be held in.

You followed the signs and reached a set of double doors through which you could hear the din of chatter. Other reporters, no doubt. You pushed open one of the doors and joined the throng, managing to get a seat near the front by some miracle.  Once you were settled in your chair, you checked your watch. Plenty of time to spare. 

After what must have been your fifth game of solitaire on your phone, there was finally commotion coming from a side door. You quickly shoved your phone in your pocket, all the room’s attention now on the star athlete walking in. He exuded confidence with every step he took, and his cocky grin would’ve made your knees weak had you been standing.

He took his seat behind the table at the front of the room, and the press conference commenced. You waited patiently for an opportunity to ask questions of your own. You stood when you had your chance, and his eyes locked on your form.

“Wow, she’s beautiful,” he murmured to himself.

Except, it wasn't to himself. The microphone was far more sensitive than he had thought, and it was heard loud and clear throughout the entire room. You felt your face flush with heat instantly. There was an increase in volume as well as a few camera flashes directed at you. He chuckled nervously, asking the obvious. “Did you hear that?”

“I did,” you answered simply, the shy smile that formed from his verbal slip-up somehow making you even prettier in his eyes.

He slapped his hands over his face, covering the redness that gave away just how embarrassed he was. Would it be rude of him to just leave in the middle of a conference?

When he finally peeked out from between his fingers, you were still standing, waiting patiently to ask questions. He decided then and there that he would find you when this was over and it would be his turn to ask questions. Specifically, he wanted to ask to trade phone numbers. Y’know, just for potential future interviews. Definitely not for anything more.

❀-Bonus-❀

You woke the next morning to find a coworker you were friends with had sent you an article—“Baseball Star Ken Sato Calls Reporter Beautiful”—complete with a photo that had been taken of you during the conference.

There was a message beneath the link. “Anything you’d like to share?”

You thought back to yesterday, still not quite believing the one and only Ken Sato had not only called you beautiful, but had even caught up with you afterwards just to ask for your number. It was enough to have you giggling and kicking your feet like a smitten schoolgirl. It was a moment shared between just the two of you, and a selfish part of you wanted to keep it that way. Any guilt you may have felt about withholding the sports world’s current hot gossip was quickly washed away though with an incoming message.

“Goodmorning, beautiful. Tonki’s tonight at 7? I’ll pick you up.”

[lizzobetumblin]

Melissa hated her feelings. 

She buried them in a chest in the 5th grade (along with her ability to express them). Other peoples' feelings on the other hand was her forte. She could process, decipher and regurgitate other peoples emotions effortlessly. This gift could’ve taken her through college, all the way to a degree in psychology. Distinguished Dr. Jefferson with a PhD and a cozy office and impressive roster of high-profile, weallthy clients was a shiny idea. Fate would have a different hand for Melissa her talents were exhausted on mediating family fights, friend group drama, and charming her way out of confronting her own feelings. 

“Feelings.” Even saying it out loud to herself seemed silly. Something reserved for ‘cry babies’ and water signs. Typical Sunday nights started tame, reading or writing fan-fiction and drinking cranapple juice. And then like clock work her father would yell her name, 

‘MELISSA!!!’ Emotionless, she’d get up dust off her Winnie the Pooh shorts and make her way downstairs. On the long walk down the hall to the stairs leading to the living room brawl, she’d go through her check list: 

1.) Don’t cry.   

 2.) Stay neutral; Deescalate

3.)Don’t take anything personal. This isn’t about you

She padded down the carpeted stairs in her old soft socks to see her mother tightlipped and tear streaked thinking, 

‘she broke rule number 1’. Her father, Michael was proud and angry, his big belly filled with self righteousness. She knew he would be unyielding in his resolve and at this point her only option was to deescalate.

 ‘Rule number 2’. Then her sister the water sign and calamity for the evening sat on the floor nearly fetal, face red and raw with emotion. 

‘Its not your fault’ Melissa wanted to say ‘You just didn’t follow the rules… you’re loved.’ But she couldn’t say that because she’d be breaking rule number 3. It wasn’t about how Melissa felt. Even though she felt like screaming,

“VANESSA, YOU DIDN’T DO ANYTHING WRONG. DAD—YOU JUST HAVE PENT UP ANGER BECAUSE YOU GREW UP IN THE HOOD OF DETROIT AS A BLACK MAN IN THE 60s AND 70s. YOU NEED A HEALTHY OUTLET LIKE.. I DONT KNOW… THERAPY?!?!?! THIS IS A WASTE OF ALL OF OUR TIME. I LITERALLY JUST WROTE THE BEST SAILOR SATURN x CHIBI USA FANFICTION EVER AND THIS IS KILLING MY VIBE!”

Instead, she decide to hear every one out. She decided to help. To calm her dragon of a father down. To be a translator for her emotional sister. To not take it personal. To stay neutral. To not cry. 

9 years later, at her fathers funeral she still never broke the rules. She played her flute and spoke at his memorial. She was present for her mother because it wasn’t about her. When other peoples' emotions bubbled up she stayed neutral. She sat through both services and she did not cry. It wasn’t until she excused herself to make a phone call outside did she collapse onto the stairs of the funeral home and weep alone in the cold Detroit snow. 

It’s okay to break the rules sometimes, she reminded herself. As long as no one else sees it.

Traumas began to compact on Melissa, as they do. Humans tend to collect traumas like pebbles on a long hike. We toss them into our backpacks and keep moving forward. Some hikers would falter, but Melissa was built for this. She’d carried the stones of her family’s traumas uphill for years. She was strong. 

When men began to befriend and reject her, saying ‘you’re too good for me’ but not too good to make them feel good. She carried that. 

When childhood friends began to cut off the strings of her heart, saying ‘We can’t be friends anymore’. She carried that.

When her family separated like dandelion seeds, it seemed like they’d never be together again. Melissa slept on so many couches, floors and car seats sometimes she didn’t know if she’d see them again. 

She carried that. 

Dying was never an option though sometimes she didn’t mind the thought of it. Peace and warmth were two things she’d desperately yearned and hadn’t felt fully since the womb. Then one night in the pitch black of the hot, sweaty, roach-infested studio in southeast Houston she slept in she wondered:

‘Why can’t I break the rules?’ She’d seen everyone else in her life break them like popsicle sticks. And she didn’t just want to break the rules, she wanted to break them boldly and loudly and annoyingly and honestly and sloppily like every one else gets to do. It was in that moment, tucked in a thin jacket inside of an 8-foot high instrument cubby in the inky darkness—it hit her. 

‘Is my suffering for a high purpose? Or is my suffering trying to kill me?’ 

She cried. 

She escalated. 

She took it personal. 

But it wasn’t enough. She wanted to scream in a microphone in a sea of shadowy faces. She drank whiskey and wove her pain into rock music. 

‘Music is my boyfriend’ she declared. The only man that kept his baggage to hisself. And it healed her. It gave her voice reason and purpose. 

The pebble-laden hike became lighter with time. The incline eventually evened out to flat, beautiful landscapes where the breeze finally met her back. She knew it wasn’t gonna be easy or sunshine but even the rain cleansed her and it was beautiful too. 

Somewhere in the rain she decided rules were meant to be built and broken. Like trust and love and friendships and families. Because every thing deserves the opportunity to change and grow. 

So... She broke rule number 1 on stage while singing a beautiful song. Dr. Jefferson (PhD) screamed for her to stop but she didn’t listen and the tears flowed like rivers of emotion down her cheeks. 

Rule number 2 was broken when she grew older and saw the injustices of the world. Marching with hundreds in protest she realized not everything needs to be pacified. 

And one day when she finally fell in love, she broke rule number 3. No matter how much training she’d done she couldn't help but take every thing her lover said and did personal. But it was ok. Because in all her resistance she realized breaking rules was her power. 

Melissa began to fall for her feelings. Her feelings gave life purpose. They weren’t always logical, as feelings seldom are. They were sloppy and embarrassing and rude and so fucking uncomfortable. But they were hers. And they were real. And when she sat alone sipping wine, staring at the moon…They were the only ones still by her side. Ready to break the rules for her because they loved her. 

And she finally loved them back. 

[ofstarsandvibranium]

Stuck in the Moment

Fandom: Marvel (CEO AU)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Summary: It was just supposed to be a regular day at work. But a huge storm hit the city. The power goes out and you're stuck inside the elevator with an incredibly attractive man. So with nothing else to do, you two get to know each other while waiting to be rescued.

A/N: technically, CEO's son AU but whatever

Bucky Barnes Masterlist

You quickly close your umbrella and rush inside. Even with the umbrella and a raincoat, you're still partially drenched.

A storm has hit the city. You hear the occasional roar of thunder and flash of lightning, raindrops pelting against the pavement and windows of your work building.

You flash your badge and walk through security. You shoot a smile to Stan, one of the older security guards, "Keeping warm, Stan?"

"As best as I can, Y/N!" he replies, zipping up his jacket further up towards his neck.

You gather with the group of people in front of the elevators. Two doors open, and people start filing in. Both elevators fill up quick, so you decide to hang back and wait for the next one.

You hear someone approach you and they sigh. A soothing, deep voice follows, "Jeez. Did not mentally prepare myself for this much rain."

You turn your head, your eyes meeting striking blue ones. The owner of the voice is as handsome as he sounds. You chuckle and quickly look away, "I know. Even with my umbrella and raincoat, I still wasn't as prepared for this storm."

"I forgot an umbrella hence," he gestures to his drenched suit jacket.

You snort, "Gotta keep a small, compact one with you at all times around this time of year. Never know when a storm will happen."

"Definitely going to follow your advice," he says with a grin.

The elevator door nearest you opens and he gestures, "After you."

"Thanks," you reply, stepping inside and the handsome man filing in behind you. You press the fifth button while he presses the eleventh.

You can't help but comment, "You must be a high profile person if you're going to the top."

The man shyly shrugs, "I suppose," he nods to the fifth button, "You're in the marketing department?"

"Yup. I'm part of the social media team."

"Ah. You guys get to have all the fun."

You giggle, "It's not all fun, but, yeah, we do like-"

The elevator slows, but not because it's approaching your floor. The light's flicker and the elevator creaks to a halt. Your body sways at the stop. The lights flicker again and then you're engrossed in darkness.

You groan out in annoyance, "Oh come on!"

The man with you takes out his phone and turns the flash on. He faces it to the ceiling, illuminating the elevator, "You okay?"

"Yeah, you?"

"Same," he sighs, "Guess the storm created a power outage. Might be some time until the power comes back or until we're rescued."

"Great."

Your phone starts to buzz and you pull it out of your bag. You answer it, "Kate?"

"Hey! Are you at work already 'cause looks like the entire building is experiencing a power outage."

"Yuuup and I was unfortunate enough to be riding the elevator when the power went out."

"Shit. Okay, what floor are you on?"

"I think we're in-between three and four."

"Oh good, you're not alone!"

"Nope. I'm with-" you pause, and look to the man, "Sorry, I never got your name."

"Bucky."

"Hey, Bucky. I'm Y/N. I'd say 'nice to meet you' but I wouldn't call our current situation 'nice'"

He chuckles, "I get it and likewise."

"Who the hell is Bucky? I've never heard of a Bucky before."

"Not now, Kate. Anyway, I should probably save as much of my phone battery as possible. Keep me updated on the power and such."

"Will do! Stay safe and don't die!"

You snort, "I'll try not to." You end the call and look back at Bucky.

"Since you're probably like an executive or something, do you happen to have contact to any other higher ups about this power outage?"

He nods and gestures to his phone, "Getting several text messages from people. I've let them know we're stuck here and they've already contacted the fire department. But considering the storm and everything, might take them a while to get here."

"So guess we have to get comfortable," you set your bag down and slip off your raincoat. You set it on the floor and sit on it. Bucky looks at you with a cocked brow and you shrug, "What? The floor's wet!"

Bucky chuckles to himself and finds a dry spot in the corner. He slides down the wall to sit on the floor, "So, Y/N from Marketing, tell me your life story." You look at him confused and he shrugs, "Might as well get to know each other since we might be stuck here for a while."

______________________________

Within the first hour, learn that Bucky is the eldest sibling and he has a younger sister. His best friends are named Steve and Sam. He's a huge nerd that loves Star Wars and Star Trek. He went to Columbia University to study business, which is why he's now working here.

You told him about your childhood, that you and your best friend, Yelena, moved to the city for school and ended up staying. You express your passion for social media marketing and, ultimately, how you ended up working for Barnes Co., thanks to Yelena's sister, Nat.

"How long have you been working here?" Bucky asks you.

"It's going to be my two year anniversary in a few months."

Bucky slowly nods, "Can't believe you've been here for two years and I've never seen you around."

You give him a shrug, "It's a big building. Lots of people work here. Besides, you work with the higher ups, so I doubt you'd even see me around."

You take this moment to look over him with the minimal lighting you have. He clearly makes a lot of money from what you can tell. His shoes and suit are obviously designer. Hugo Boss or Armani or something. His watch is definitely a Rolex and probably costs more than your entire life.

Bucky shakes his head, "I know, but I do try my best to get to know everyone who works here. The company is what it is because of everyone who works here, not just the CEO, CFOs, and executives."

"That's nice to hear, Bucky. I mean, I knew that this company really values its employees, but to hear someone close to the top say so, is really reassuring."

He shyly chuckles, "Well, uh, yeah, um," he clears his throat, "So, uh, you seeing anyone?" he winces at how unsmooth that came out.

But you chuckle, "Are you asking me out?"

"Me? No, no. Just, ya know, we talked about our childhood, our jobs, only topic we haven't hit is our love lives. Besides, it'll probably a little bit longer until we're rescued. They're working on getting the people on the first two floors out first." Bucky does his best to be as nonchalant as possible and you find it so adorable. You never expected a guy like him to be a little shy.

"Riiiight. Well, I've dated, been in a few relationships, but nobody's really stuck around for long. Kind of getting tired of the whole dating game, so haven't really put much thought into relationships lately. What about you?"

He nervously rubs the back of his neck, "I, uh, hate to say that I dated around a lot when I was younger. Not super proud of myself for that. But as I grew older, started wanting a more stable relationship. Was in one for a long time with a woman. Thought we were going to get married and everything, but then I found out she stuck around because of my growing wealth so-"

"Yikes."

"Yeah. Went back to dating and sleeping around and it got old again quicker than before. I guess I'm kind of like you, focusing on myself and work. Doing my best to just survive in the world."

You slowly nod, "Well, what a pair we make, huh? I mean, look at us," you gesture to yourself and him, "Stuck in an elevator, sharing our life stories, getting to know each other. Honestly, thought a situation like this would be so much worse, but I'm glad it was you that got stuck with me in this situation."

Bucky laughs, "Same here."

"Buck?" you hear a muffled voice from the other side of the elevator doors.

"Dad?!"

"Yeah, you guys okay in there?"

"We're okay!"

"Good! The fire department's here. They're getting you guys out. Just hang tight!"

"Not like we can go anywhere!" Bucky replies and you laugh. He grins at you as you wait for the doors to pry open.

______________________

The entire building was evacuated. Several people stayed back to make sure everyone was safe. Nat and Kate stayed in the lobby waiting for you to be rescued.

When you exited the stairs door, they rushed over to you.

"Holy shit, are you okay?!"

"Yeah. Me and Bucky just hung out that entire time," you gesture to the man who follows behind you.

Nat looks over your shoulder and her eyes widen, "You were stuck in the elevator with James Barnes?"

"James?" you turn to face Bucky as he approaches you, "I thought your name is Bucky."

He nervously clears his throat, "Uh, well, kinda. Technically, my name is James Buchanan Barnes, but those closest to me call me Bucky."

Your realization has your eyes widen and you take a step back, "You're George Barnes' son."

He sheepishly waves, "Hi."

"Well...that's...cool." You didn't know what to say, honestly. You're a little surprised by the reveal. You quickly go through the info that Bucky shared with you in the elevator shaft. He never mentioned his dad or anything that could hint at the position he holds. He deliberately held that info from you.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you," Bucky says with a guilty expression on his face.

You shake your head, "No, it's-it's fine. I mean, I knew you worked a high position but didn't think...that high."

He snorts, "Yeah, um, I just hope you don't see me differently."

"Not at all. I met you as Bucky, the sci-fi nerd who sucks at flirting, so that's how I see you."

"Sucks at flirting? Yeesh, guess that's what happens when I haven't dated in a while."

You laugh, "Happens to the best of us."

"Son, you ready?" George Barnes approaches Bucky.

"Yeah," he nods to his dad and looks back at you, "See you around, Y/N."

"See ya," you give him a small wave and turn back to Kate and Nat. They look at you like you grew another head, "What?"

"The son of George Barnes, James Barnes, son of the CEO of Barnes Co., was flirting with you?!"

You scoff, "I wouldn't really say he was flirting with me. More like attempting to flirt. It doesn't matter. Not like he'd actually want to date someone like me," you shrug it off and pull on your raincoat, "Ready to go?"

_____________________

Everyone was working from home the following day to ensure that the building was safe to occupy when the power came back.

The weather is still poor but not as bad as the day before. Still, you decide to step outside, choosing a cafe to work from rather than your shared apartment with Yelena.

You’re answering emails while sipping on a warm beverage when you get a new message on Slack from James Barnes:

JB: You’re looking cozy over there in your corner.

You immediately look around and spot him on the opposite side of the cafe. When your eyes meet his, he gives a wave. He quickly gathers his things and you keep your eyes on him as he moves across the cafe to your table.

“May I join you?”

“If you’d like.”

He sits across from you and you lower your laptop screen, “Not gonna lie, kinda creepy that you did that, Barnes.”

He shyly shrugs, “I guess I really do need to brush up on my flirting hm?”

You giggle, “Yeah, I suppose you do.”

“Maybe I can practice with you?”

You give him a coy look, “I guess you can.”

[phant0mth1ef]

being a support course student wasn’t easy, it was consistent work mixed in with your normal academic studies, but boy did it have some perks.

never in your life did you think you would see aspiring heroes begging for you and hatsume to design their support items, stating that you two were the best of the best and it’d be an honor to have their gear made by you.

never in your life did you think bakugou katsuki himself, mister big and bad all throughout his early years, would be standing in front of you asking if you could tweak his gauntlets so that they could hold more and weigh less.

you took the piece of metal in your hands, examining it as vermillion eyes watched your every move, strategizing, calculating, and envisioning.

“well?! don’t just stand and stare! tell me if you can do something about it!” his gruff voice pierced your eardrums as you looked over at him, the bags under your eyes becoming evident as he met your gaze.

“no.” you responded, an annoyed look on your face as you shoved his hunk of junk back into his chest, causing him to slightly stumble as he watched you.

“whaddaya mean no?! aren’t you supposed to be the best support course extra?” his voice was so prominent. it was like bass booming through the speakers when he spoke to you.

“well i mean i can do it. i just would rather not do it, at least not for someone like you.” you spoke calmly as you went to go pick up some of kaminari’s gear, messing with it as you swore you saw the man start to rage.

“well why not?!” he demanded, holding his gear as he sucked his teeth.

“i just don’t want to. i don’t tolerate calling people extras, nor do i tolerate this type of behavior towards me, especially from someone who’s in need of something only i or hatsume can pull off, and i heard she’s already turned you away.”

the soft click of you snapping something in kaminari’s pointer gear back into place was echoing throughout the room, which was silent except for hatsume walking around and tinkering with her, as she calls them, “babies.”

“i don’t take no for an answer.” he spoke through gritted teeth.

“and i don’t take disrespect, so i guess you’ll just have to find someone else. you can talk to me again when you’re ready to be nice, and i’ll consider tweaking your gear for you. as for your current gauntlets, just leave them here. they’re scrap metal at this point.” you spoke with a sense of authority in your voice, like you didn’t even care who he was because it simply didn’t matter to you.

after all you were currently contracted with mirko’s agency, providing support gear for her and her sidekicks, that was also partially where you got your spunk from.

“tch.” and with a loud clank! his gauntlets hit the floor as the boy turned around on his heels, leaving with a tone that was evident in the way he walked.

that same night as you sat at your desk doing your schoolwork, your phone was sitting right by you.

bzz bzz! bzz bzz!

you picked it up, staring at the notifications with a smile on your face.

[instagram: dyna_might]

I guess I’m sorry about the way I talked to you earlier, I apologize.

your set your phone down as it dinged once again.

[instagram: dyna_might]

And I’d love for you to design my support gear.

safe to say that once bakugou opened his dorm room door the next day, a pair of basically weightless and and more compact gauntlets was sitting down, waiting to be used as he chuckled.

[roxierae]

being jj’s passenger princess after a long day at work was a god send, especially when he treats you exactly how he should…

“can i borrow your lipstick?”

“yeah, it’s somewhere in here.”

the clatter of items from the two girl’s bag’s fills the silence of the dingy bar bathroom, bringing you back to reality as you blink slowly in the mirror, hands gripping the porcelain sink as you sigh.

rude customers and pervy old men, mixed with the heatwave the outer banks was currently suffering was a recipe for disaster, leaving you in a fowl mood all night, counting down the hours until you could stumble into the arms of your boyfriend and into his bed.

at the distant buzz of your phone a wave of relief washes over you. digging around your little shoulder bag, finding lipgloss and a compact mirror before eventually landing on the little buzzing screen, lit up with the name:

jayj♡︎

pressing your back against the wall, you jab at the screen eagerly with your fresh manicure, bringing to phone to your ear, breathing out an exhausted ‘hello?’ as you fiddle with the hem of your uniformed skirt.

“‘m outside, babe.” he hums, the sound of the blinker in the background as he pulls into the parking lot. you nod like he can see you, just happy to hear his voice, settling for a chipper, “okay, coming.”

the click, click, click of your heels against the tarmac speeds up as you approach your boyfriend, arms folded over his chest with that knowing smirk on his face, leaning against the hood of the car.

you practically throw yourself into his waiting arms, leaning your head on his shoulder and nuzzling your face into his neck as he lets out a little chuckle, hands encircling your waist to press you closer to him.

“mm- missed you jayj.” you hum, pulling away to look him in the eyes, his hands sliding lower to rest underneath your skirt, cupping your ass cheeks. “missed you too pretty girl- always do.” he says, titling his head down towards you with a teasing pout.

“c’mon, gimme some sugar.” he smirks, you giggle tiredly, standing up on the toes of your heels the best you could to give him a sweet peck, arms looping around his neck as your glossy lips smush against his. “that new?” he asks absentmindedly when you pull away, running a gentle thumb across your chin to wipe away some excess.

“yeah- got it last week. why? do you like it?” you smile hopefully and he nods, chucking softly as your excited little pout, hands sliding up and down your thighs as he replies, supportive as ever. “damn right- i love it. might buy myself some.” he teases, pouting his now glossy lips at you and you smile. watching him round the car to open your door, gesturing for you to get in.

your cheeks heat up at the gentlemanly act, following his footsteps to hop into the vehicle. “such a gentleman, jayj.” you tease and he nods, reaching for your hand and placing a theatric kiss on. “only for you, m’lady.” he jokes, wiggling his eyebrows at you as giggle at his antics.

he rounds the car to sink into his own seat, turning the key in the ignition and you can’t help admire the way his forearms tense at the action. the car kicks to life and you’re both off.

after driving for five or so minutes, you were getting a little restless, unable to ignore how perfectly his jawline was highlighted by the streetlights, or how the hand he had rested on your thigh was slowly sliding further and further towards where you needed him most.

you weren’t even sure he knew what he knew doing to you, but you couldn’t wait to find out. it was pathetic really, just how easily you could go from 0 to 100, but you were past the point of caring, and all you was for him to make you feel good.

on impulse, you reach for the hand caressing your thigh, his eyes flit to you, unsure of what you’re intention was until he meets your eyes. he could recognise that glazed over needy look anywhere. you drag his hand gently up your body to rest on your tit, which he squeezes hungrily, eyes only half focused on the road. “babe..?” he clears his throat, wondering if he should stop.

the action illicites a pretty little whimper from you, which he takes as motivation to keep you making those noises. he darts his eyes between the busy road and you, legs spread and lips parted, eyes fluttering gently as he rubs a thumb over your pebbled nipple.

navigating the bustle of traffic was a challenge in itself, but now he’d have to multitask, dipping his hand down between your legs, already feeling the warmth radiating off of you. “please, jayj…” you mewl, and he knows the risks. but fortunately for you, jj likes a challenge.

[kingkatsuki]

— miscommunication

Based on this silly little post I made here. With inspiration from @/oooohno💕 basically Sakura can’t fathom anyone could ever like him like that.

Pairing: Sakura Haruka x f!reader.

Warnings: none, a little angsty, Sakura is bad at feelings.

Word Count: 2.9k.

You always feared getting your heart broken someday, you just hadn’t imagined it would happen like this. Sakura had always been kind to you, ever since you’d been introduced to him through Tsubakino. It was one of the many reasons why you found yourself falling for him. It had been impossible not to, and you’d spent the majority of the time working up the courage to finally ask him out. Convinced by the fact that Tsubaki had guaranteed he would say yes.

“He’d be a fool not to like you,” He said, glancing at you through his reflection in the small compact he carried with him. Giving you a reassuring wink as he applied a fresh layer of engine red lipstick, “You won’t know unless you try.”

But maybe you were the biggest fool of all because you definitely hadn’t expected Sakura Haruka to leave you standing alone in the middle of the park wearing a pretty sundress. An excruciating pain ruminated beneath your ribcage as you tried to fight back the ache of rejection.

The first step had been the most difficult— working up the courage to ask for his number. It seemed awkward to ask for it straight up, but you also didn’t want to just get it off Tsubaki in case it crossed any unspoken boundaries. So you decided it might be easier to give him yours, writing it down onto a napkin from Kotoha’s restaurant one morning while you waited for her to pour your coffee. Before slowly sliding it across the bar to Sakura, who was shovelling omelette rice into his mouth. His pink cheeks bulged with food as he skimmed the note, looking up at you with a frown.

“If you don’t want to, it’s okay.” You smiled softly as you thanked Kotoha for the coffee, walking out through the door into the warm morning sun.

If he didn’t want to what? Sakura thought to himself as he scanned your number on the white napkin. Why did you give him your cell phone number? Sakura pondered the reasons as he continued to shovel the warm egg omelette rice into his mouth. You could want to hang out as friends, but you’d never showed any indication of wanting to do so prior. Or perhaps you were looking for protection, although that didn’t make sense when you were so close to Tsubaki who was a force to be reckoned with alone.

You didn’t need protection— so what if you’d given him your number so you could fight? It made the most sense to Sakura. It had to be why you stared at him each morning when you came in for your coffee, almost as if you were sizing him up with expectation, and today was the day you’d decided to extend the invitation. He waited until he’d finished his plate before fishing his cell phone out of his pocket to send you a text message.

Even after Kiryu had added Sakura to a Furin group chat all those years ago, Sakura was never the best at texting. He tests the words against the screen as he debates how to properly respond. Backspacing until he finally settles on a simple, yet concise answer and he hits send.

Sakura[9.49AM]: I want to.

He wasn’t entirely sure what he was agreeing to, but it had to be some sort of fight. He’d never trained with you before, so it couldn’t be that. And if you were friends with Tsubaki-chan, perhaps you enjoyed fighting too.

You[9.53AM]: hi! I’m glad you texted, I wasn’t sure if you actually wanted to go or not but I’m glad you do!!! Honestly, it’s made my day :)

Sakura reread the text twice, just to make sure he understood what you meant. I wasn’t sure if you wanted to go— so you were looking for a fight.

Sakura[9.55AM]: When?

He texts back, glancing at the screen as he notices the three little dots appear at the bottom to signal you are typing back.

You[9.57AM]: Meet me in the park by the swings at 7pm :)

Sakura read the text three times with a frown— 7pm. So you really did want to fight him? That would surely be the only reason you wanted to meet so late.

It felt like a shame to fight you, especially when your face is so pretty. Sakura feels his cheeks flush at the thought as he pictures that same sweet smile you give him each day when he sees you enter the restaurant to order your usual coffee to go, while he tries to hide his face in his omelette rice.

But you’re best friends with Tsubaki-chan so you must be strong, and maybe that’s the reason why you’ve chosen to fight him. And he’s never one to back down, and you’ve set the stage now so he has no choice but to agree. Sending back a single word as his fingers glide across his phone screen.

Sakura[10.00AM]: Yes.

Sakura isn’t sure how he’s supposed to prepare for this, or if he even needs to. He’s never seen you fight before, although he’s certainly seen you mad. Your soft hands balled into tight fists as you warned off a guy for getting a little too close, so close in fact that even Sakura was decidedly about to jump in— until you managed to get him to back off and leave.

Okay, maybe you were strong—

He doesn’t know anything about your fighting technique, or the way you hold yourself. Wondering whether you have a similar style to Tsubaki, and that’s why you’re so close? But he’s friends with Suo and Nirei and they don’t fight like him, so maybe that doesn’t make sense, he frowns. He’s known you for a while, and this is the first time you’ve shown any indication you want to fight, so now he’s started to overthink everything. Contemplating how he’ll be able to get the upper hand— or what spoils will be offered to the victor?

He makes sure he’s early, arriving at the park ten minutes before your scheduled fight with his hands bundled into fists inside his jacket pockets. But he’s surprised to see you already there and waiting, his roaring heartbeat catches in his throat at the sight of you as he almost forgets to breathe—

You’re sitting there waiting wearing the prettiest dress Sakura thinks he’s ever seen. A flowy sundress that hugs your curves in all the right places, embarrassed when his eyes are instantly drawn to the cleavage that spills out of the top. Your bare skin has a dull throb pounding at the back of his head as though he’d just been sucker punched as he wonders whether he’s still standing or how you’re this strong.

The moment he first saw you, he remembers a word that Suo had taught him to describe things like this— and he reckons that’s exactly what you are. Ethereal.

His cheeks burn a fiery red as he risks a glance further down, the soft material of the dress stops just above your knee as he follows the path of your legs to see your feet encased in pretty wedge sandals that strap around your ankles. There was no way you’d come to fight like this— in fact, he couldn’t fight you like this, could he?

“Hey.” You notice him staring as you stand up to walk towards him, and Sakura is certain that he won’t be able to land a single hit when the scent of your perfume surrounds him.

“W-what are you wearing?!” He shouts, despite the fact you’ve come to stand in front of him and it takes you aback.

The same insecurities begin to shroud you as they did when you were preparing to meet him. Standing in front of your full-length mirror as you tried on various outfits until you came to settle on this one, almost deciding against it at the last minute before you checked the time and noticed if you didn’t leave you might be late.

“Oh— you don’t like it, do you?” You fiddled with the strings at the front of the dress that were tied into a pretty, thin bow. Sakura’s eyes couldn’t look away as they followed the movement, noticing your pretty painted nails before he found himself staring at the hint of skin that peeked out of the top of the dress, “I knew I should’ve worn the other dress, it’s not quite as light as this one. God, I feel stupid.”

One of the thin straps was dangerously close to falling down your shoulder, and now Sakura wasn’t even sure he’d be able to land a single punch. This had to be some kind of distraction technique.

“You can’t fight in that!” Sakura raises his arm in an accusatory point, trying to stop himself from shaking and showing any signs of fear as he tries desperately to tame the fierce blush that streaked across the apples of his cheeks.

“I can’t fight in this?” Sakura despised how adorable you looked when you cocked your head to the side with your words, his heart banging like a marching band as he thought about his initial statement— maybe he was foolish for thinking you couldn’t fight in this.

When he’d watched Tsubaki fight, he’d always notice men that would get distracted from his short skirts and heeled boots— was this what you were trying to do to him now? Was this your plan all along?

“It’s—” He tries to get the words out, but it’s difficult when you look so cute, “It’s not— it isn’t—”

“It isn’t what?” You take a small step closer and the sudden movement had his fight or flight instinct kicking in as Sakura turned to run. Escaping in a hasty sprint as he left you standing alone in the park, the sun slowly falling over the horizon.

You try to ignore the ache in your chest when Sakura turns to run, wondering why he’d even bother to show up at all when he was going to reject you anyway. But then you suppose that’s one of the reasons why you even like him in the first place— he’s way too thoughtful and considerate of others. That’s probably why he didn’t want to reject you over text, and he’d come to tell you face to face.

Trying to stop the tears from falling as pearlescent droplets collect in your thick lashes to blur your vision, blinking them back you pull out your phone to rest Tsubaki. The first text sitting at the top of your phone is still your message chain with Sakura as you reread the “Yes” he’d sent you hours earlier. You were so stupid.

It’s the first fight Sakura has ever run from in his twenty-two years, and he hates himself for it. Hates that you managed to win on pure tactics alone as he makes his way back to the restaurant to find his friends.

His chest is heaving when he finally makes it through the door, knocking the wood so hard it almost flies off its hinges as wild eyes search for his friends. Thankful they seem to be the only people inside as he makes a beeline for them, his two-toned hair now windswept and pushed back from his forehead as it sticks up in all directions.

“You’re back quick?” Kiryu notes, his thumb pauses on his screen to take note of Sakura’s dishevelled appearance.

“Did she stand you up?” Nirei asks, concerned.

“No.” Sakura deadpans, still standing by the table despite there being a free seat in front of him as he leans his weight on the balls of his feet.

“You stood her up?” Kiryu locks his phone and places it down on the table as he raises a questioning brow, “That’s really not how to treat a girl, Sakura. I thought you—”

“I went there!” Sakura shouts, louder than necessary inside the small cafe as his hands ball into fists on either side of him.

“What happened?” Suo asks calmly, trying to diffuse the situation, but there’s a curious lilt to his tone.

“S-she was there.” Sakura tries to work out how to explain what happened, as his nose scrunches pensively.

“Okay? So that’s good, right?” Nirei smiles.

“She was wearing a dress!” Sakura is loud, immediately regretting his volume as the heat rising inside his body starts to become uncomfortable. Slouching down to sit beside Suo as he mumbles, “You can’t fight in a dress—”

“Girls can fight in anything,” Kiryu smiles, as Sakura looks across the table at him. So you did want to fight? “But I don’t think that’s what she had in mind.”

Oh. So if you didn’t want to fight him, then what else did you want?

“Well, where is she now?” Suo questioned, and Sakura answered for him with a sheepish look paired with a deep pink blush all the way down to his shoulders, “You left her in the park?”

“Wait— on her own?” Nirei continued, “Why would you do that?”

And somehow it sounded worse when his best friend put it like that. Sakura hadn’t left you alone, or at least he hadn’t meant to. You were there alone before he’d even got there, almost like he’d just stopped in passing. You were fine—

“She was wearing a dress!” Sakura repeated with an angry rasp to his tone.

“Sakura, you messed up.” Kiryu starts laughing playfully, shaking his head, “You’re gonna have her and Tsubaki-chan mad at you now. I can’t believe you did that to her— the poor girl.“

“What?!” Sakura baulks, “But she’s the one that text me!”

Sakura never wanted to fight you, why would he? You were far too pretty— too delicate to be subjected to that. He didn’t want to think about you fighting anyone, the thought alone had that same strange feeling bubbling in his tummy as he pictured you coming out of the fight hurt. That same seated desire inside him burning red hot at the thought— Sakura is certain he’d fight to the death to protect every single inch of you, to stop any harm from coming to you.

“What do you think it means when a girl gives you her number?” Sakura sat back beside Suo as he pondered the question.

The only phone number he had stored in his phone outside Bofurin friends and Togame from Shishitoren was Kotoha, and that was because she’d grabbed his phone the same day he’d given it to Kiryu. But Sakura didn’t mind so much because she always brought him food. But he didn’t think that’s why you’d given your number to him, was it?

“Iunno.” He mumbled gruffly, his lips curling into a pout, “That she wants to fight.”

Tsubaki-chan had texted him to spar all the time, it wouldn’t be weird to think you’d do the same.

Kiryu shot Suo a look as he gave his friend a soft smile, before trying a different approach. It was clear after knowing him for so many years, that Sakura was inexperienced in things outside the reemits of fighting.

“Have you never found a girl pretty before, Sakura-kun?” Suo asks,

“Shaddup!” Sakura snaps swiftly, already feeling a dangerous heat rise inside him— but it’s at that same moment where he really ponders the question.

Kotoha is pretty, he supposes. Thinking back to the first time he met her when she offered him a warm plate of food with a kind smile, remembering the heat that plumed inside him that followed her kindness as Sakura found himself coming back to her.

Sakura is certain he thinks Tsubaki is pretty too, although none of them seem to compare to how he feels about you. The incessant pounding of his heart against his rib cage at the mere thought of you, your saccharine perfume makes him feel dizzy and yet he hates when you’re not around so he has to remember the way it smells. The sound of your laughter causes more than just a subtle warmth inside him like Kotoha, it's more like a blazing inferno that courses through his veins like molten lava that’s impossible to extinguish. And the way you manage to fluster him without even being there— he’s constantly thinking about your face before he falls into a dreamless sleep, and waking up to wonder what you’re doing right now.

Tsubaki would probably think he’s foolish for thinking you couldn’t fight in a pretty sundress with sandals when he fights in a skirt and heels all the time. Maybe it would give you some kind of advantage, a way to get the upper hand. The sandals wedge gave you a slight height advantage sure, but would that be enough to beat him?

“Are you listening, Sakura?”

“Yeah.” He pushes his chair out with a harsh screech against the hardwood floor as he moves to leave, frantic in his search for you as he hopes you’re still standing where he left you.

[theereina]

Bad News Pt. 1

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Plus Size Fem Black!OC "Bella"

Wordcount: +3K

Warnings: MDNI (18+) mature content, such as cursing, no smut, heavily dialogue-centered, mental health mentioned (anxiety), vomit, *emotional distress*, angst, heartbreak, chronic illnesses mentioned

A/N¹: Remember, I just got back into writing. I'm open to critiques, but I am a little 🤏🏽 sensitive about my writing. Please, don't be too harsh.🥺 Feel free to bring my attention to any typos. Divider by @firefly-graphics. Also, this work is not to be plagiarized or reposted (on any site other than here on Tumblr). I do NOT give consent for any form of republishing or rewriting.

Since coming home, I had been sitting on the bedroom floor for what seemed like hours. I had done nothing since I had returned home. I had disassociated as soon as I hit the door. Today was only adding to the mess that my life had become. I received the dreaded phone call from my doctor's office early this morning. He said I would need to return immediately for surgery, a surgery that would possibly change my life forever.

My mind was all over the place, and all I wanted was Terry. My Terry. He would know how to help me get through this. I just had to explain everything to him and lay it all on the table. He deserved upfront honesty since this news would affect him, too. It would affect the life we wanted and planned to have.

I had come to the South to spend time with him because I needed to rest. Too much has happened over the last month. I had lost my job because my health was deteriorating rapidly. I was still fighting in court with my mother over the money my aunt left me. After the last storm, my apartment had a severe water leak, so I had to move in with my godmother and godsister on the West Coast. Luckily, we stayed in the same city.

When the doctor called today, I had tried my best to prepare for the news I already knew. The doctor said he found something during the original exam, leading to a biopsy, ultrasound, and MRI. The results from those were even worse.

As I was anxiously waiting, my heart was beating out of my chest again, and I could feel the growing lump in my throat. My body was getting hot, and I wasn't even remembering to breathe. I loathed this feeling. The feeling of anxiety overtaking my body without my permission. Not again. Not now. Not at the one moment where I needed to talk without panicking and rushing through my words. Of course, anxiety had to make an appearance.

I lay on my back in the middle of our bedroom floor and crossed my arms around my body as if I were hugging myself. “Breathe, Bella. Breathe,” I said inhaling and exhaling sharply. Every inhale felt like there were razor blades in my lungs. Oh, no.

I leaned on my elbows and quickly scanned the room for my purse. I needed my phone so that I could at least text Terry. I couldn't breathe right now so talking wasn't an option. The tears in my eyes were begging to be released. I held them in as best as I could. “Don't cry, Bella. Don't. Please, don't,” I said to myself holding my head back forcing the tears to retreat slightly.

My purse was behind me thrown against the master bathroom door. I turned over and crawled towards my handbag. I grabbed the strap of my crossbody and pulled it towards me. Sitting on my knees with the purse in my hands, I flipped it upside down and dumped out all of its contents. My wallet, lip gloss, compact mirror, lip liner, coins, crumpled cash, receipts from today, and phone all thudded onto the floor ahead of me.

I grabbed my phone but instantly dropped it as a sharp pain shot through my chest like lightning. The pain lasted mere seconds but was enough to break me. The tears that I was holding in were now streaming down my face. I was bawling my eyes out through ragged breaths. Fuck. I grabbed the phone from the floor and searched for Terry's number through blurred vision. I used the back of my hand to wipe my eyes. My eyes took painfully long to come back into focus enough for me to make out the letter T at the beginning of a contact. Luckily, I recently messaged him, so I clicked on the thread. I could see the heart I sent Terry earlier as the last message. I quickly tried to calm my breathing a little more and sent Terry a text. It only told him to come home ASAP.

My eyes were beginning to sting, and my sight was blurring again. I waited for at least a few minutes before looking down at the phone again. No response. I was panicking, so I sent a copy of the same text multiple times hoping to alert him to my current state of distress.

“Please, Terry. Save me. I need you,” I thought to myself. I looked up at the ceiling. I needed him to at least call me. Just a call. He would hear my voice and know. That's all I need right now. I waited and still nothing. I decided to call Terry myself. Two rings, then I was sent to voicemail. No way. He didn't just decline and ignore my call. He never does that.

I clutch my hand to my chest and breathe out through my mouth. I call him once again. Same result — voicemail. I sent another text. This one told him I was having an anxiety attack. I put the phone beside me. I repositioned myself in a hunched-over position with my forehead touching the carpet. I was praying that Terry would call.

*3 hours later

I had managed to get on the bed. I didn't even remember moving or falling asleep. I was just so out of touch with reality currently, disassociated and detached. I awoke to my entire body aching. I leaned up on the bed and slid to the bottom edge. My head was pounding, and the feeling was making me nauseous. The room seemed to be spinning. Trying to calm myself again, I sat there for a moment.

I knew I looked like shit. My phone was still on the floor. “Shit!” I yelled. I went into an instant panic. What if Terry called, and I missed it? What if he texted while I was in such a deep sleep? I slid down the edge of the bed letting my butt thud to the floor. I reached for the phone bringing it to my chest. I hoped that I hadn't missed him.

I unlocked my phone to see no missed calls and no new messages. What the fuck? That couldn't be right. I checked that I had service and hadn't accidentally turned on DND or airplane mode. Nope, I hadn't done either. This wasn't right. Terry would have at least texted me back.

I rushed to get up from the floor with the phone still in my hand. I headed out into the hall to see if Terry was inside. “Baby? Terry? Are you here?” I yelled walking into the living room. It was empty and so was the kitchen. I walked towards the large bay window in the living room and peered out. His truck wasn't there either. Where was he?

I tried to call Terry again. Now, it was going straight to voicemail. I left a brief message asking for him to come home and let him know about the panic attack. I hung up, and I sent a message again.

Now, I was starting to worry. This wasn't like him. Was he hurt? Was he in jail? Admittedly, Terry does sometimes have a bit of a temper.

Immediately, I tried calling his father. It rang and rang. He picked up and answered in his usual manner. “Jed speaking,” he said. “Hi, have you seen Terry? I've been trying to reach him for hours,” I said rushing out every word. “Whoa, slow down. I haven't talked to him since this morning, baby girl. Let me ask Linda. Linda! Linda!” he yelled away from the phone. I could hear her answer from the other room. “Ya’ talked to Terry since mornin’?!” he yelled back. I could overhear her respond “No”. “I'm sorry, baby. Neither of us have heard from him. I do know that he went downtown to see if he could get some more help for Mike,” he said. “Mike?” I asked confused. “Yeah,” he started, “Them folks decided to keep him, and Terry is supposed to be going to get him out.”

“I knew about Mike gettin’ locked up, but that's ‘bout it. Terry hasn't said much,” I said putting the pieces together. “Well, that's ‘bout all I know. If we hear from him we'll tell him to call you. M’kay?” he said. “Yes, sir,” I said before ending the call.

I was too afraid to leave the house because I wanted to be there if Terry returned. I sat down on the couch and waited in silence. I was checking my phone every minute for any new calls or messages. Nothing.

I had been waiting for at least an hour in complete silence on the couch when my phone rang. I saw Terry's name on the screen and immediately answered it. “Baby—!” I started to speak. “Bella, can you chill?” Terry barked through the other end. I paused for a second. “Terry, I was worr—,” I tried to speak again. “The hell did you call my parents for? I'm trying to figure out all this shit with Mike. Give me a fucking break. Will you?” he yelled. “I understand that now, but Terry—,” I said before hearing him hang up.

I couldn't believe it. He had yelled at me and hung up on me. What the hell? I wasn't aware of the severity or urgency of Mike's situation. It wasn't like Terry was telling me anything. This was one of the biggest issues in our relationship. Communication between us wasn't always the best or healthiest. In stressful moments, I found it hard to express myself in any capacity, and Terry barely talked at all. I just really needed to talk to him about the call I received from the doctor.

Then again, maybe I was being too overbearing. He needed to focus on Mike, right? You know what? I just needed to relax. Breathe and fucking relax. Terry just needed space. He would come home, we would talk, and everything would be fine. There was no need to make this situation worse than it was.

I waited for another hour. I was lying on the couch and cuddled under my blanket. I had started dozing off when I heard the door open. I jumped up to see Terry walking through the door. His face was filled with anger, and his nostrils were flared. He was pissed.

I sat back down. The worst thing to do was bother Terry when he was this angry. He rushed through the house and stormed to the bedroom. He didn't even acknowledge my presence or notice me sitting there. As much as I wanted to console him, I knew better. If I bothered him right now, he would retreat and leave. That was the worst possible outcome for me.

I went into the kitchen to at least try to find something to cook. I searched the fridge and found thawed steaks. I placed them on the counter beside the stove along with a bell pepper and onion. I searched the cabinets for an appropriate side and settled for boxed mac-and-cheese. I wanted to cook something soon, so we would have a reason to sit and talk.

*1 hour later

The food was done, but Terry was nowhere to be found. I sulked towards the bedroom. I knew this was going to go one of two ways. Either Terry was calmed down, or he was still a raging bull. I stood at the bedroom door. I reluctantly opened it and peered inside. “Terry,” I called out from the doorway. My voice was barely more than a whisper. “Terry,” I said a little louder. “What?!” he barked from the closet.

I jumped at the sound of his voice. He was still pissed. I lightly closed the door trying my hardest not to aggravate him any further. “Food’s ready. I made steak and—,” I said before he rushed out from the closet. “I'm not eating. I got shit to do, Bell!” he yelled walking towards his side of the bed. He leaned over and picked up his backpack and duffel bag from the floor. Panic took over my face.

“Terry, are you leaving to go somewhere?” I asked moving closer to him. “The hell does it look like? I'm leaving tonight,” he said placing clothes into the duffel. “Wait! I need to talk to you,” I said reaching for his arm. “Not now. I got to be there by Thursday afternoon to get Mike,” he said snatching his arm away from me. “Can you leave tomorrow afternoon? Anytime aft—,” I whimpered. Terry's eyes shot upward at me. “Don't fucking start. I already told you Mike was in some shit!” he snapped coming towards me. “But you never said—,” I said backing away.

This wasn't Terry. This wasn't my Terry. This wasn't the Terry who had never yelled at me, who never cursed at me, who even in my fits of anger calmed me down. Who was this?

“I get that you're upset, but I got a call from the doctor's office today. Remember, the tests they ran?” I asked trying my hardest not to cry. Tears were forming, but I refused to let them fall. I needed to stay strong. “Just stop for a second,” I said walking up to Terry and placing my hand on his chest. “What now, huh? What is it that can't possibly wait?” he asked. His face had turned into a scowl and his eyes had narrowed in annoyance. If I didn't think this man still loved me, I would label this a look of pure disgust and hate.

I was trying my hardest to just say it, but I knew it was too delicate of a matter. Terry was too far gone. This wasn't something you blurt out in a fit of rage or frustration. A panicked and rushed speech wouldn't suffice here. This was something so delicate that even the smallest detail needed to be discussed carefully. So, I decided to hold my tongue.

“Nevermind. I'm sorry. I'll talk to you la—” I said removing my hand from his chest. I could feel his heart racing. Maybe, at this moment, he needed me more than I needed him. “So, what's your plan? Are you just going to bail him out and bring him back with you?” I asked earnestly trying to find some sense of familiarity in his eyes, but I couldn't. With that, I buried every emotion I was carrying so that I could give Terry my full attention. “No, I plan on staying for a while. I got other shit to sort out besides just the shit with Mike,” he said turning away from me. “Wait, what? When will you be back?” I asked. “I don't fucking know!” he snapped again. “Terry, I'm only asking,” I said lowering my head. This conversation was quickly going downhill. “How am I supposed to tell you what I don't know, Bell? It may be a few weeks. Hell, it may be a month,” he said continuing to pack his duffel.

“Terry, I need you before then. I need you here tomorrow. The doctor's going to be calling me back. And I—,” I said twiddling my fingers. I hadn't even noticed that I was pacing on my side of the room. I stopped to look at Terry and tried to just say it. “There's something wrong, and he wants me back by—,” I said sniffling. Terry ceased his movements and looked up at me. The look on his face shook me to my core. Hate was inscribed as the only visible emotion. His eyes had darkened, his nostrils were flared, and his jaw was clenched tight enough to accentuate the veins from his temples.

“There's always something wrong with you. All the fuckin' time! It's always about you!” he yelled. His voice thundered through the room. Every word pierced my heart like a bullet. I stood frozen in shock. The man who promised to never hold my health against me had done exactly that.

A surge of adrenaline coursed through my body. There was now a sour taste in my mouth as my saliva grew thick. My hands were now shaking, and my legs felt like they would give out at any moment. I rushed to the bathroom and slammed the door behind me. I instantly felt the vomit rising from my belly. I hovered over the toilet. I spewed up nothing but bile due to having an empty stomach. The acid scorched my throat and flooded out of my nostrils. Every breath I took burned my nose and throat. This felt minuscule compared to the words Terry just said to me.

I dropped to my knees and kneeled before the toilet. The vomit wouldn't stop coming. I held myself up by placing my hands on the edge of the toilet. I was bawling silently. My chest was heaving up and down rapidly. The tears began to pour freely and landed on the toilet seat. I snatched a wad of tissue paper from the roll and wiped my face.

I tossed the tissue into the toilet and closed the lid. I flushed it and slumped back onto the side of the tub. The cold porcelain was hard and uncomfortable against my bare skin. My adrenaline was all over the place, so I pulled my knees up to my chest and dropped my head. Hanging low and uneasy, my head felt heavy against my legs.

Calm down, Bella. Calm down.

I was lost. I was hurt. I was angry. I was overwhelmed. I was exhausted. Worst of all, I felt alone. He was the man I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. Now, I felt like my life was ending here. He had crushed me without even knowing it. His face and actions showed no sliver of empathy or remorse. How would we ever come back from this? Better yet, could we?

Taglist: @avoidthings @brattyfics @slutsareteacherstoo @pocketsizedpanther @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @blowmymbackout @5headsupremacist @creartivefairy @insidefeelingofanadult @revealingco @keyaho @jimmybutlrr @gg-trini @nayaxwrites @miyuhpapayuh

A/N²: You will learn what the illness is in part 2. Stay tuned!

[crazydiscostu]

JSAUX Travel Phone Holder

This has become essential travel kit....

The competitive world of Travel Accessories is a rough terrain. Each brand aims to enhance convenience and introduce an innovative solution for the modern traveller. JSAUX have once again stepped into this niche products-a-blazing! Among its notable offerings is the Airplane Phone Holder, a compact and flexible gadget designed to cater to the tech-savvy explorer. Let’s delve into the features…

[coralinnii]

Leaving a kiss mark on him…and how long did it take for him to realize  feat: Kalim · Cater · Idia · Rook  genre: fluff note: not gender-specific reader (everyone is allowed to wear lipstick), no pronouns, established relationships,

Me: I have to study, I have mountains of assignments and projects to do! *hides in tumblr to avoid study anxiety* can I just fail my classes and say I tried? T_T

I'm starting to enjoy Rook mostly cuz I can go ham with the romantic words or as Idia would probably call it "cringe worthy crap"

Until recess, when Jamil points it out

This ball of sunshine is too  giddy in your presence to notice anything. How do you expect him to pay attention to anything when you’re laughing and chatting with him before the start of class. The two of you parted ways with Kalim having a big grin on his face, never realizing you left an obvious imprint on your love on his cheek. 

Kalim would never think that the loud chattering in the hallways were about him, ignorant of the stares of the other students as he waves to them happily. Some whispered how embarrassing it must be if he ever finds out, some muttered what a lucky b*stard he was. 

Said lucky b*stard stayed oblivious even in class as no one felt the need to risk being called out in class by informing the white-haired Housewarden. Trein of course saw the mark on the boy but kept silent over it, deciding to let young love be. 

The kiss mark was finally brought to Kalim’s attention when he met with Jamil in the cafeteria, the vice Housewarden shocked by the image but soon replaced with an exasperated sigh. Jamil pulled out a compact mirror (I’m 110% sure Jamil is the type to carry one) and pointed to the Asim heir’s cheek.

Kalim was ecstatic at what he saw and why wouldn’t he? His beautiful treasure just left a cute reminder on his cheek and just seeing the mark makes him remember your kiss which makes him giddy once more. 

Jamil had to practically fight Kalim to wipe the kiss mark off his face. He can’t let the Asim family find out their oldest son was walking around with such an embarrassing appearance. 

But Jamil isn’t gonna have a break from this as Kalim would just run back to you and ask you to leave your mark on him once more. 

“Come on, do it again! Please~? It doesn’t have to be on my cheek this time!”

As soon as he check his reflection in his phone

The extrovert he is, Cater is not going to say no to some PDA. His Magicam has been filling up with cute pictures of you two, whether it’d be on your dates or a quick selfie before class. 

For this selfie, you decided to land a smooch on your boyfriend’s cheek as he takes his daily selfie pic. Once Cater was done posting the uber cute memory with you, the two of you split from each other towards your respective classes. 

Despite his itchy hands, Cater knows better than to mess with his phone during lessons. Unlike Kalim however, he definitely picked up the weird looks sent his way and the whispers behind his back. His ability to read the room hints to him that the whispering wasn't of malice intent or anything negative but he knows it pertains to him. 

Once the bell rang, the redhead immediately picked up his phone and caught something in the reflection of the darkened screen. Was there something on his face? 

Opening his camera app, he finally saw the hot topic in the classroom, the cheeky little mark you left on him. 

You would think the easygoing student would laugh over the cute gesture, maybe tease you later on your bold expression of love. You’d be partially right. 

You caught him by surprise. His face will be dusted with a reddish hue as he inspects a mark on his face in addition to his diamond mark. He had to cover the lower half of his face with his hand to hide the goofy smile blooming on his lips. A genuine, not Magicam perfect smile. This is beyond cute, it’s downright adorable in all the best ways with messy lipstick smudges and all. 

But yes, he will absolutely tease you about this little souvenir you left him. He even sent a new selfie on Magicam showing off your handiwork and tagging you right on the mark. He was just lucky Riddle didn’t catch him with your mark on him. 

“Aren’t me and my bae just #couplegoals? Hope you ain’t jelly~” 

Would have never noticed if not for Ortho 

Idia would never allow PDA, nope never. He isn’t the type of guy that wants to show off his relationship. It’s not that he’s embarrassed by you, of course not! But he’s more of a lowkey guy that rather show his love in the comforts of his or your room. 

Which was why he was happy to receive a loving kiss from you before you leave his room to head to your classes. But Idia was gonna send his tablet off as usual while he laid back in the safety of his room. 

As stated, this man would have gone the whole day without realizing what you did. He gets into the zone once he starts his gaming session. He is also not the type to really check himself in the mirror if he goes to the bathroom, only doing the bare minimum in there and then going right back to his video games. 

It wasn’t until Ortho came by to check up on his brother did he finally take notice of his appearance. 

“Brother, what’s that on your cheek?” 

Confused, Idia reached for his phone and opened the rarely used camera app on his phone (only used for you and cats) and shrieked when he saw your little present clear as day on his pale face. 

How could you do this to him? How could you do something this embarrassing to this weak man?? It was a damn good thing he didn’t leave his room or he could never leave this down. What if someone other than Ortho showed up at his door, like one of his dormmates? 

He quickly commanded his tablet to locate you, bringing you to a secluded place then screaming at you for your sneaky trick. His throat hurting from the amount of talking and yelling he has done, more than he has in a while

But when you asked him if he really didn’t like it, Idia turned quiet real quick. You can’t just corner him with a kill shot question like that. 

Seriously, you’re gonna give him a heart attack.

“It’s not that I don’t like it, you just can’t just do things like that out of the blue! H-huh, you’re asking when can you do it, then?!”

The moment you did it

You think Rook wouldn’t notice? The man who not only has amazing senses but also the right hand man to Vil who has taught him the skills of makeup application? One look at your lips (and of course, he has looked) and he can tell if the product is smudge-proof or not.

The moment your lips graced his cheek, he could feel the residue of your lipstick left on his sensitive skin. Judging by the smile on your face, he knew you were intentional with your marking and was proud of it. 

What a trickster you are, was this your way of marking your man? Making sure everyone is aware that the vice Housewarden is spoken for? How beautifully devilish of you. 

Before you could escape, Rook captured you in his arms with a coy smile on his face. 

“My dear Trickster, how sneaky of you to try to leave your lovely mark on me. But, I've noticed you weren’t wearing smudge-proof lipstick today. You would have to do better than that~” 

You pouted, hoping you could at least be out of your hunter’s line of sight before he called you out. Leave it to him to notice the most minuscule of things, you suppose.

“You didn’t try to stop me, though?” you questioned suspiciously, your so-called keen boyfriend letting you attack him so easily. 

He simply responded to you with a bright smile on his face, “How could I ever deny my beautiful beloved? For you, I surrender myself to your whims of love for I am but a weak prey ensnared by your beauty” 

You left more kiss marks on this crazy poet of a man 

“To be graced with your lips, a show of loving passion bestowed only to me…I am a helpless fool to my lover”

[clawsdevour]

heyyy congrats !could I ask for lasagna, and go bowling? Thank you!

wasted speech

wc: 0.8k content warning: post-timeskip, reader is drunk, fluff, confession, tsukishima x f!reader, not proofread

-> lasagna : tsukishima kei -> go bowling : scenario where reader cant get over their ex and chara takes them to the club to take reader's mind off their ex (one sided trope!) ⏝ ི 𝄞 ྀ . * a/n: was kinda hard to plot this out but hopefully it isn't the worst thing you've read...

. ♪⃝ ✳︎ . 𓏸

“I just can’t get over him,” you told your best friend over the phone in congested sniffles.

Hearing a sigh on the otherend was all he needed to tell you that he’s not the best with words and comforting others, especially on the phone. The silence put on speaker was enough to remind you of your ex once more.

“Look.. how about we go out so you can forget about him. You’ve been cooped up in your house crying over him for days, you need to remember to enjoy life” Tsukishima groans out, trying his best to uplift your emotions that have been the same for days.

Processing his logical approach to consolidate you, you can’t help but feel ashamed now that you think about. You’ve been sobbing over a bum ass ex for days! You need to get out there and become a new person.

“O-okay.. Are you gonna pick me up?” wiping the tears off your warm red cheeks.

“Yeah, how about in twenty?” responding with a nod before hanging up the phone to get ready.

Getting up from your comfortable bed with a loud but suppressed groan, body almost limp from all the crying as you stood on two feet. Staring back at your multicolored closet, you chose whatever caught your eye first. That was.. Until you changed your mind and started rummaging for the perfect dress.

The skin tight black dress that showed just enough cleavage that could drive a man wild, was the one and only dress that made you feel confident that night. Sucking your curves in with it’s compact fabric that snatched your waist, even making you gasp when you looked at yourself in the mirror.

‘Okay.. thirteen minutes left ‘till Tsukki picks me up,’ you thought to yourself as you pondered what to do next to look absolutely stunning the moment you walk out your house. That’s right, makeup. You’ve been crying your eyes out for days on end, making you feel like the most disheveled person in the world.

Just a tad of makeup is gonna elevate your confidence and even your appearance. Quickly trying to compact all the steps into your look before you hear your door bell ring and echo down the hallway, you threw your shoes on and took your purse with you.

“Tsukki! Sorry you had to wait a bit..” opening the door almost out of breath as you were still getting that one heel on.

“Eh- you’re fine.. Are you ready to go?” looking down at your frantic complexion as you made sure you had everything you needed. Eyes mainly goggling at your gorgeous appearance you managed to throw together in twenty minutes.

“Yeah, well at least I think so” letting out a little laugh as you lead him out of the doorway to lock the front of your house.

At the club, you felt so overstimulated as you haven’t gone clubbing in a while. You knew you were gonna be okay as long as you had Tsukishima at your side.

“I don’t know if I can do this..” you yelled into Tsukishima’s ear with a worried expression displayed on your face. The overwhelming music and disco lights are making you feel compelled to turn back and leave.

Tsukishima’s unable to hear what you’ve got to say, but that look on your face sparks his concern as he takes your wrist to drag you to the corner where the music was less loud. Sitting down on the cold stool, the gloominess washes upon your face as you lose all confidence. Ordering a drink of his own and your favorite to sip on before turning his head to you.

“What did you say earlier?” raising his voice over the music.

“I don’t think I can do this!” yelling back, eyes averting at the refreshing usual placed in front of you while you stirred the contents around with the little stick provided before shoving it all back with one big gulp.

“Another one please,” sliding the bottom of the glass over to the bartender.

At this point, Tsukishima’s trying to talk you out of drinking even more contents of alcohol as you kept ordering more on his tab. You just wanted to block yourself from thinking about your ex, the atmosphere just wasn’t helping as you thought it would.

Just when you were about to swipe the drink from the table, Tsukishima reaches for it first. Making a disgusted face at him in a daze, he’s completely changed the expression on his face seeing become so intoxicated from the alcohol.

“You need to stop. It breaks me everytime I see you talk about him..” eyebrows furrowed laced with glossy eyes.

“He’s not the one and we both know it.. Let’s just say, I care. Deep down I.. I like you okay. Now let’s just get you home, you’re completely wasted” standing up from his seat, tense from the words he just said.

Grabbing you by your arm to help you stand up, still slumpt into your stool as his speech processed through your mind.

“Wait– what did you just say!?”

masterlist here | 1k event here

[voxsmistress]

Mama Didn't Raise No Bimbo part FOUR!

lets see what else is in store for y/n ... you didn't think Velvette was just going to let her get away now did you?

Part One / Part Two / Part Three / Part Four / Part Five / Part Six / Part Seven / Part Eight / Part Nine / Part Ten / Part Eleven / Part Twelve / Part Thirteen / Part Fourteen / Part Fifteen / Part Sixteen

Seems Velvette had tagged your photo on her story with the hashtag #newmodel? Flicking your gaze back up to an amused Angel.

“Well toots … you might as well collect all three than just two. Here’s to you babe - you are so fucked”. He raised his glass. Raising your own you blink in shock.

Fucked was right.

It had been a few days since your exciting little adventure to the Vee Tower, coupled with the fact Velvette had not only shared your post on Sinstagram but followed you was helping you gain thousands and thousands of new followers and likes. But like your tequila, you took this with more than a pinch of salt. The Vee’s didn’t do anything for free. There was always a catch. You were waiting for this one to hook you sooner or later.

Unfortunately for you, it was sooner rather than later. You had finished your job for the night ready to head home, plus there was a bottle of whiskey and a hot bath with your name on it. Arm raised to wave a taxi you were distracted by your phone starting to buzz in your other hand. Unknown Number. Huh, weird. Deciding to answer it you lower your arm. What harm could it do?

“Hello?”

“Is this Miss Y/n?” Frowning at the unfamiliar voice, hmm you were rather selective about who got your number. So … who was this?

“Speaking…?”

“Ah Miss Y/n I am Velvette’s assistant, and she is insisting that you come in to meet her to discuss an opportunity that you really do not want to miss out on” huh. Okay. Was not expecting that.

“Uh huhh … and when is she wanting to meet?” Looking up at the darkening sky you had a horrible feeling you weren’t going to be going home anytime soon.

“Well, what are you doing now?” Ohhh nooo! Come on!

“I have just finished work and was actu-”

“Ah perfect so you are free. Come to the Vee tower now and we will sort everything. See you soon” your mouth opened and closed as they hung up on the phone. Right eye twitching you took a deep breath in before exhaling slowly. The bloody nerve! Grinding your teeth you raise your arm up again and wave at a taxi. Trying to calm your anger you shove yourself in the first one that appears, telling them to take you to the Vee Tower. Stewing in the backseat you think it must be nice to be an Overlord – just ordering small insignificant demons around. Shaking off the attitude you realise you need to tidy yourself up.

Looking down at your outfit, a sigh escapes you. Not exactly the outfit you’d want to meet the fashionista Overlord in – a leather bustier, leather pants and your customary neon pink accessories and heels matching of course with your favourite faux fur coat – but it was going to have to do. You didn’t exactly have time to prepare. Scurrying around in your purse to find your compact mirror, you quickly tidy up your eyeliner – snarling at the cabbie when he purposefully swerved nearly wrecking your makeup – and pop a new layer of dark pink lipstick on with a topping of gloss. A quick fluff to your blonde/pink hair and that was the best it was gonna get with such little time to prepare. Spying your perfume, you give a little spritz to your neck, wrists, and boobs. Noting that you’d need to get some more on your next outing as you were nearly out.

Thankfully you had just enough time to get all that done before the taxi pulled up at the tower, throwing the money at the demon you step out on the street. If possible the tower seemed even taller than before. Intimidating. Shaking your head you steel yourself for this meeting, how the last one went down with the other two is not what you want this time round. No unnecessary touching. No being cornered. And no flirting. Okay maybe a little bit of flirting, you were a demon after all. Wait – no! No! Bad thoughts!

Stepping in to the reception you check the board to see what floor Velvette was on, marching to the elevators you ignore the same receptionist who seemed surprised to see you again. Yeah, Bitch I’m back! In the elevator you press Velvette’s floor and breath deeply. It would all be okay. Perhaps they were just going to tell you how much they liked your post? Or they were wanting a thank you in person for all the followers? Or how surprised at how naïve and stupid you sounded. Shaking your head you groan softly. Of course it wasn’t doing to be okay, dealing with the Vee’s was never okay. Or safe.

At the soft ding you pulled your attention away from your depressing thoughts and instead to the scene in front of you. Velvette yelling at a load of models, other demons running around grabbing body parts off the floor and clothes being burned. Well. That was different. A twitch of your lips hid a smile – so the Vee’s weren’t as organised and poised as they’d like you to believe. Good to know.

Taking a step into what felt like the Thunderdome your movement must have caught Velvette’s attention, she suddenly was advancing on you and quite fast for someone so short. You thought you were small, but she only came up to your shoulder. Of course her attitude, energy and that amazing hairdo made up at least a foot, if not more. And living with the other two Vee’s she needed as much attitude and sass to keep up.

“Ah so you are Y/n, totally nice to meet you face to face. Saw your post girl and I am in love with them – that last photo dump was so gorgeous and hitting all the trends so good on you.” Linking her arm with yours like you two were old buddies she pulled you further into the room, her voice so quick you had to focus so intently to understand what she was saying.

“So … any who, guess you are wondering why I brought you here?” She gently shoved you down on the chaise lounge, a small ‘offt’ escapes your lips when you hit the seat. Steadying yourself you turn your body to face the Overlord who decided to take a seat right next to you. Your knees almost touching. Okay then.

“Yes, I was curious why…” a glass of champagne appeared in front of your nose – accepting it gingerly you carefully held it in your lap thanking the demon who passed her boss a glass.

“Look, your style is cute but I think with my influence your style can be out of this world – I am in the market for a new model” - a glance to the pile of body parts in the corner of the room made you gulp - “and with your figure and my style we could totally rock this Hell, making us a tonne of money and you a star so whatcha think – whatcha say I can sort the contract out asap no problem, no fuss”. Blinking in a bit of shock at the speed of what she spoke and what she was speaking about you had to hold your hand up to stop her for a second. Information overload.

“Uh – wow that’s real generous of you Miss Velvette-“

“Please call be Velvette, or Vel! None of this Miss business,” Her smirk was widening, her black lipstick was shining under the florescent lights above us.

“Well, Velvette, I am really touched that you think I could model for you as your fashion range is just fantastic and I love it – but if I am to sign that contract what am I giving you?” You pretend to take a sip from your glass. No liquid entered your lips. It wouldn’t be the first time you’d heard of someone being drugged and signing their soul away – you wouldn’t be one of those.

“Oh, nothing big really. Just something tiny. Teeny really. You wouldn’t even miss it.” She wafted one of her hands around as the other was typing away on her phone.

“Uh huh and what would that teeny tiny thing that I wouldn’t miss be?” You hedged her for the answer what you knew was coming.

“Just your soul babes – nothing big.” Yeah, to her maybe. To you it was a massive thing. And you’ll be honest, you didn’t have masses in this Hell but you did have your soul which was more than some have.

“Then the answer is going to be no, Velvette” you placed your glass down on the table. Her fingers stopped twitching across her screen, her red eyes focused solely on you. Now normally you were one to bow your head and not make eye contact, but you’d had enough of the bullying attitude of these Vee’s now – not one but two now have tried to contract you into losing your soul and you weren’t having it! Matching her glare with one of your own.

“No?” Keeping the eye contact you nodded.

“Not to say I am not grateful that you thought of me, or the fact you even took the time to speak to me. But my soul is non-negotiable. Plus, I have a job already. One which I love and want to continue. So, thank you. But my answer is and will always be - No.” You might have held your eye contact, but your hands were starting to tremble a little. Clenching them together in fists you keep your gaze on hers. A small sneer was pulling on her lips, and you were getting ready to be dismembered like the model before you. But it never came. Instead, she laughed. Laughed?!

Not like an evil MWAHAHA laugh. But a genuine laugh. Confused you wrung your hands together as she lightly slapped your knee and wiped a tear from her eye.

“You got guts girl; I’ll give you that.” A strained smile tugged at your lips, dead heart thumping in your chest. “Fine then. No soul contract – which is a shame we could have had so much fun” her expression darkened with mischief sparkling in her eyes pulling a little heat to your cheeks. “But instead let’s make a little deal? No souls just two businesswomen making a deal, whatcha say?”

Raising your eyebrows in interest you place your elbows on your knees leaning forwards: “what do you suggest?”

“Your socials are starting to take off, people are noticing you babes, and I am here for it! You are a rising star, don’t think I haven’t been paying attention and seeing that people are using your hashtags and your name when they’ve seen you at one of the clubs singing performing”, surprised she had even looked you could feel your blush deepen. “So, here’s the deal – you wear some of my designs, tag them in your socials, etc and you come and do a catwalk for me and sing?”

“You want me to promote your clothes and sing at one of your Cat Walks?” you clarify because this evening was not going the way you had planned or thought it would go.

“That’s it gorgeous – whatcha think?” You think this was probably the longest Velvette had been off her phone.

“And that’s it? No loopholes, no contracts, no soul-binding – just for me to wear your clothes, promote them on my social media and sing at one of your cat walks – that’s it?” You narrow your gaze at the Overlord, there’s got to be some sort of catch here. The way she was gazing at you like a cat that had caught the canary you were sure you were screwed in some way.

“That’s it honey. No catch, no loopholes, just good business”. Humming under your breath, you racked your brains to see if there was anything that could go wrong.

“Okay, how long do I have to promote your clothes for and when is the Catwalk show?” you ask, tapping on your own phone bringing up your notes and typing away.

“Shall we give it six months and see what happens from there? The next Catwalk is in a one month’s time” her smile only got bigger. You couldn’t think where or what could be a loophole, it seemed like too good of a deal. And your mama raised you to believe if a deal was too good to be true then it usually is. But then again. When did you ever listen to her?

“So far so good, but what do you get out of it?” Her smirk grew, well that can’t be good. She reached over and squeezed your leg softly, your eyes flitted from her hand to her smug expression.

“I get exactly what I want gorgeous, but honestly helping rising stars get their fame is mainly it” her charming smile didn’t win you over. She was a lying. But let her keep her lies for now. You knew how to play the game and so far, you hadn’t been burnt. What’s a little risk.

“Okay Velvette, you have a deal”. Raising your hand, she slapped hers into yours and gave it a strong shake – red and black smoke erupted from her making you jump back a little but was stopped from the grip she had. Her grin was terrifying. Her hair was waving around her head like it was full of static. But as soon as the smoke and lights appeared, they disappeared as if you had imagined it. Pulling your hand away, the tingle of electricity ran through your fingers, you knew you hadn’t imagined it. Not at all.

“Well then gorgeous now that’s all done – you can pop back tomorrow and we will get all your measurements and go through colour schemes, styles, etc so keep you day wide open yeah!” Finishing off her glass of champagne we leaned back against the chaise lounge – never once had she let her gaze off you.

Nodding in agreement you thank her while rising from your seat, it was time for you to go and drown yourself in that bottle of whiskey. “You can stay if you’d like?” A flush covered your cheeks at her racking her gaze up your body.

“Thank you, but I better get home. Big day tomorrow I want to be rested” you give her your best winning smile, slipping your purse under your arm. Rolling her red eyes at you she huffed a little, “fineee be boring babes”. Happily!

Before you could even think of taking a step towards the elevator the doors slid open. An unimpressed Vox stood in the middle tapping away on his own phone, not tearing his gaze away from it he steps into the room.

“So what unfortunate soul have you managed to convince to work with you now Vel?” His charismatic voice lacked his usual flare and instead sounded bored. Not something you usually would hear from the TV Demon.

Clearing your throat, you were frozen in place when his eyes connected with yours. Uh oh.

“That unfortunate soul would be me” you smile nervously at him, watching as his screen glitched slightly. That was weird. His bored expression disappeared with the glitch and in its place was his usual charming smile.

“Ah Miss Y/n what a pleasure to see you! What was that you just said?” Velvette appeared at your side, wrapping an arm through yours you watched his screen glitch a little again.

“She’s mine now Voxxie” she smirked at the glitching demon.

“She’s WHAT?!”  

Taglist: @tasha-1994 @azullynxx

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