#but even that didn't got me creating scenarios in my head

[thebestsetter]

Thinking about your first christmas spent with Alexis Ness.

Germany's streets were full of bright red and green lights. The buzzling of people buying presents for their loved ones filled the stores, and a common yet gentle christmas melody rung in the air, creating a movie-like scenario.

Amongst the seemingly infinite crowd of people, you and your boyfriend, Alexis Ness, walked hand in hand through a busy Munich. It was one of his rare off weeks. I guess even Bayern's managers know about the whole christmas' spirit thing and decided to give their player a little break.

"Look, Lexis! It's snowing!" You smiled, stretching your free hand to touch a little snowflake that fell from the night sky. The night was so cold that little puffs of hair could be seen when you spoke "Isn't it beautiful?"

"Yes, meine Liebe" he said, looking straight at you and not even once sparing a glance at the snowflake. How could he, when the prettiest one he's ever known was right in front of him, holding his hand like she'd die if she let go? "It is."

Ness' parents never celebrated Christmas. Actually, they never celebrated any holidays. This was the first christmas he was really getting to enjoy. And all because of you, his sweet girlfriend. God, just thinking about you made his heart combust.

How did he bag you, really?

"Come on! We need to be quick or else the book store is going to be closed by the time we get there!" You laughed, pulling him with you and running.

"Slow down, Angel!" He laughed, tightening his hold on your hand and running after you, muttering a quick "Sorry" to the people you both bumped into.

Your matching Harry Potter houses scarfs flowing in the wind together created a beautiful picture, and your laughs mixed with the sound of christmas songs and bells. One hand holding yours and the other holding his hat so it wouldn't fall, Ness tried to drink in every single milimeter of you, wanting to keep the picture of your smiling face in his memory forever.

He was really enjoying this. Was christmas always this fun?!

"Willkommen!" Said the sweet bookstore lady. She was a short old woman with round glasses and a gentle smile on her face. She matched the christmas vibe perfectly "What do you lovebirds want?" She smiled at you both, which made Alexis blush a little.

Being yours was the greatest title he has ever achieved. He was smitten for you, and couldn't even believe you actually wanted to be with him. You were just so, so perfect!

"I'd like a child's book, please. It's for my little cousin! She really likes princesses, so if you had something like that it would be great!" You smiled at her

"Oh! I have just the right thing. You wait right here and I'll go fetch it!" She smiled right back at you, entering a little door on the side of the cashier.

The store was pretty much empty, since people don't seem to like books anymore. Only you, Alexis and the lady's cat were there. The weather was warm because of the heater, and the wood bookshelves made you feel like you were in a 1950's movie.

You and Ness sat down at a little table on the side of the store. He began playing with your fingers gently, and then looked at you with such fondness in his eyes that made you melt.

"This is the last one, right?" Ness asked, smiling

"Yep!" You answered

Actually, this was not the last present you wanted to buy. You wanted to buy something for Ness, but didn't know what it would be. It was your first christmas spent with him, so it needed to be the perfect gift.

"When will you give it to her?" He asked "To your little cousin, I mean"

"My uncle will dress up as Santa to give it to her and my other cousins" you smiled, and then sighed longingly while a memory came to your head "My family does that every year. It makes me remember when I was the one to recieve gifts from Santa. Good times. My favorite one was a doll I got when I was like, eight." You then remembered your "issue", and realized you could know what gift to give Ness based on his own favorite gift.

Bingo! It would make him remember the good part of his childhood and he would like it! After all, who doesn't feel like letting out your inner kid sometimes?

"What was your favorite gift from Santa?"

Ha, you're a genius!

Suddenly, Ness' smile dropped, and he looked almost embarassed by something. He looked at the table with a sad expression on his face and blushed

Oh oh. Maybe you're not so genius.

"I-I never got anything from Santa" he admitted, shamefully "My parents didn't really celebrate christmas, so I never got one. I always put my sock up though, but he never came"

That was the saddest thing you've ever heard.

"Oh, Lexis!" You caressed his face gently. You then got up and brought him closer to you.

His shoulders trembled a little, so you enveloped him in a hug

"I'm so sorry you had to go through this!" You couldn't back off now. You needed to buy exactly what little kid Alexis wanted. "What did you want to recieve, though?"

"Anything would be fine" he muttered, voice muffled by your coat "But I really wanted a wand. You know Harry Potter's wand?" You nodded "That one"

"I found the book!" The old lady came back, interrupting the moment. She quickly realized it though, and was fast to apologize "I'm sorry, did I interrupt something?"

"No." You assured her "No, don't worry. Let me see the book."

"Here" she handled it to you

"Sounds good" you said after analyzing it "I'll take it. Wait here, Love. I'll be right back"

"I'll pay for it."

"No need, Lexis. I have money"

"I insist."

"Okay then..."

"You both are so cute together"

Once again, Ness blushed like the lovesick fool he was.

Sadly, you didn't have the time to even tease him about it. While he was wrapping your cousin's future book, there was only one thought going through your head:

You finally found Alexis' gift.

"Merry Christmas, Love!" You woke him up by whispering it in his ear, followed by a hug right after.

"Good morning, liebe. And merry christmas to you, too!" He smiled, hugging you just as strongly as you did to him before.

This was really nice. Just you and him, together, cuddling and enjoying each other's presence. He really could get used to this.

"You know, I heard something downstairs while we were sleeping!" You said, faking a terrified expression

"Really?!" Ness asked, fully believeing what you said "Do I need to call the police?"

"NO!" You shouted, but quickly composed yourself "I mean, no! Why don't you just go check?"

"...you sure?"

"Yeah! Go downstairs! More precisely, go take a look under our christmas tree!!"

"Uhm... okay then"

It's not like he could EVER disagree with you anyway.

And so, Ness jumped off the bed, heading towards the christmas tree you both decorated together.

"Where did you say I need to check, again?" He asked, a little confused as to why you were recording the whole thing ever since he got out your shared bedroom.

"Underneath the tree! See if there's something there!" You said, not being able to contain how giddy you were feeling.

"There's a... present" Ness exclaimed, holding the wrapped box and scaning all of it's side

"Oh my! Who would have thought?" You smiled, giggling "Who's the owner of the box, I ponder!"

"The thief that invaded our house!" Ness shouted, confident that he got the question right

"Lexis, no." You deadpan, putting the phone down and walking closer to him "Look for a name in the wrapping"

And he did as he was told.

"To: Lexis" He read, and you smiled "Who gave me this, you?"

"Oh, no no! I was sleeping the whole time!" You then faked a surprised expression "Maybe it was Santa!"

"...Santa?"

"Yes! Open it, quickly! It's your christmas present from Santa!"

"Uhm... alright"

He tore the gift open

No way.

No freaking way.

A Harry Potter wand. The thing he always wanted ever since he was a kid.

"Oh wow! Santa really knows you, huh?" You teased, but his brain didn't even register it. He was too focused thinking about other things.

Santa doesn't exist.

This gift couldn't be from Santa. It was from you.

The first christmas present he ever got was from you.

Hell, this wand could be a rock and he would still accept it gladly. Because the gift doesn't matter. What matters is the person who gave it.

You. The love of his life.

He carefully put the wand down and pproached you with big, round eyes.

"Alexis? What are you..."

You couldn't even finish your sentence. He just pulled you in for one of the most heart-felt hugs you ever experienced. His arms wrapped around you in a strong embrace, but not in a umconfortable way. It felt safe. He felt safe.

"Thank you" He muttered, placing his face in the crook of your neck and inhaling your scent and wait - why did your shoulder suddenly feel wet? "Thank you, thank you. Thank you so much. I love you. God, I love you so, so much. You have no idea"

"I love you too, Lexis" You hugged him back, caressing his hair with your hands.

Man, christmas was amazing.

And so the snow began falling again, as the lovers basked in each other's presence.

Christmas is about spending time with those you love. And you were both doing exactly that.

"Merry christmas, Meine Liebe"

"Merry christmas, Lexis"

~ This has been in my drafts since october.

DEDICATED TO NESS' GF @megwuru!!!

[girlsworldillusion]

I'll fake it until you give up (or will it be me?)

Ravenclaw!Barty - Gryffindor!Reader

Summary: The five times Barty tried to hint at a relationship with you, being actively blocked in the process, and the one time you were the one who did it.

Rated: Explicit (+18)

Ella's Notes: This was supposed to be a one shot, yes I know. But it got out of hand and it was so ridiculously long that no one would have the patience to read something like that. So I split it into two parts - but before you kill me, the second part is practically ready, so I'll post it very soon. Let me know what you think of this first part!

In this story I didn't go into any details about the Slytherins mentioned and Barty himself having any association with Voldemort, nor anything about Death Eaters. In fact, you can even pretend that this scenario doesn't exist in this fic, because that was my intention. I wanted to create something independent, an alternative and lighter version of the events. Maybe in a future opportunity I'll write something within this canonical reality, but that's not the case this time.

Happy reading!

Word count: 6,5k

Lovely tags: @just-here-for-ff @amel1ee

Dividers: @saradika-graphics

English is not my first language, I apologize for any mistakes you may find.

i.

You felt bad for the blonde girl next to you in History of Magic class, having to put up with your frustrated huffs every few minutes, born of a complete and utter lack of understanding of the subject. Each class made you feel more confused than the last. Which, honestly, was understandable considering who was teaching.

Professor Binns, oblivious to the students dozing off and openly drooling during his lecture, continued to float tediously around the room with his hands clasped behind his transparent body, reciting every tiny and unnecessary detail about the Goblin Rebellion, his favorite topic to lecture on, with the energy of an old and broken vacuum cleaner.

You glance with some irritation at the nearly blank parchment on the table, your meager notes consisting only of dates and names fished here and there throughout the ghost's monotonous and endless speech - nothing that would guarantee you a good score in the upcoming N.E.W.T.s.

You hate with all your might that your impeccable grade record in all other classes is constantly tarnished by this one hellish subject, year after year.

How was it possible that after so much time listening to the same long and exhausting lectures about the damned rebellion, you still hadn't learned anything substantial about it?

It was clear that this was all Professor Binns' fault and his innate ability to put anyone to sleep in ten minutes of class - five if the day was particularly hot.

"And with that, I conclude today's class." The old ghost's dull, drawling voice rings out and for the first time since class began you feel excited by something he says, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "For the next class I expect from each of you a detailed essay on how Urg the Unclean went from a simple goblin to a renowned leader of the XVIII Rebellion, even having his own image on a Chocolate Frog Card."

The smile dies as quickly as it appears and you slam your forehead against the tabletop with an exasperated groan between your teeth, hearing Pandora chuckle beside you, though she’s certainly as bored with the task as you are.

You turn your face away from the cold surface of the table, cheek pressed against the wood and a defeated look on eyes as you glide disinterestedly across the classroom — which looks as ready to kill themselves as you do. Your expression, however, sharpens immediately when you notice him.

Unlike the other students, who are either openly drooling over their desks as they take the best nap of the school year, or rolling their eyes so hard they might as well end up in the back of their heads in exasperation over this class, he remains irritatingly unfazed.

At first you wouldn’t think he was paying attention in class, not with the nonchalant way he rests his face on his hand, elbow propped on the table. His gaze isn't even on the boring Professor Binns, who's still talking (detailing the damned assignment about Urg the Unclean). His face is tilted over his palm, a sly, soft smile on his lips. And he's looking at you.

You keep the side of your face flat on the table as squint at him suspiciously.

You couldn't say when you first became aware of his stares. And even after you noticed it, for a long time you wondered if you were just imagining it. Of course it could only be your imagination. Why, after all, would he be staring at you at every opportunity he got? There was no apparent reason for it in your mind.

But time passed and what was apparently just imagination changed into an irrefutable certainty. You couldn't pretend not to notice his stares, especially since he never tried to be subtle about it; whether it was over the steamy cauldrons in Potions Class, or from the Ravenclaw table during meals, or the piercing gaze he gave you as he skilfully glided through the air on his broom during a Quidditch match, or even from a strategically positioned spot on the table in front of you as you tried to concentrate and study in the library...

Whatever it was, he was always looking.

And it was already disturbing you. Because, no matter how hard you tried, you simply couldn't understand why.

Of course, your mind always ran to the worst possibility of all. Some cruel little game orchestrated with his friends.

Although he was a Ravenclaw, you knew that most of his friendships was centered around Slytherin. Somewhat questionable friendships, such as; Evan Rosier, Regulus Black, Bellatrix, Rabastan Lestrange, Lucious Malfoy, Severus Snape, Wilkes...

Regulus Black and Evan Rosier seemed to be the most 'normal' of the dysfunctional group nicknamed by the other students as the Slytherin Gang; Regulus with his usual superior and disinterested attitude and Evan with the restless and endless energy of a Cornish Pixie. The others, however, were much more openly unpleasant and frightening.

It was not uncommon for you to have to give detentions to Rabastan Lestrange and Bellatrix Black on your nights of patrol as a Head Girl. You would constantly find them doing something they definitely shouldn't, like sneaking out of the dungeons after bedtime to make out indecently in the castle corridors in plain sight, or even cornering some poor younger student to torture with their cruel psychological games - and sometimes physically.

In any case, Barty Crouch's constant association with this group made you automatically label him as one of them, making you wary and suspicious, especially after noticing his stares at you.

Maybe Bellatrix and Rabastan were using him as a channel for revenge on you after all those detentions?

Although, knowing the sadistic and selfish streak of the duo, you doubted they would plan to inflict any torture methods on you through anyone other than themselves.

But anything was possible and the longer he stared, the more paranoid you became.

He smiled a little wider and his stupid crystal blue gaze slowly blinked at you, almost as if he could read your mind.

You blushed, widening your eyes slightly. Could he be a legilimens?

You knew he had the intelligence for it. He was intelligent enough that you were absolutely certain that, even though he didn't seem to hear a single word Professor Binns was saying, he already knew every annoying detail of this subject by heart.

Merlin, he had managed to perform and do ridiculously well in TWELVE O.W.L.s during the fifth year! Which is almost impossible to do, unless you're a damned time traveler, or someone with a level of intelligence and academic commitment that is destined for creatures of superhuman level.

You had your suspicions, and envy, thinking that perhaps he had access to a Time-Turner. But, since Time-Turners were only granted through a direct request from the Head of House to the Ministry, who fully trusted that the student would not use it recklessly, you ruled that possibility out almost immediately. No one in their right mind would trust that Barty Crouch Jr. would not use a Time-Turner to open rifts in space-time and permanently alter events of the past and future for purely selfish reasons, least of all the very sensible and intelligent Head of Ravenclaw House.

Which, of course, didn't help with the question of how he did it.

You yourself had fought tooth and nail, basically living like a living dead person throughout the school year to fit as many classes as possible into your free time during the day, and still managed to complete ten out of twelve O.W.L.s. Of course, at the time, you felt incredibly proud of this, since the standard was for a student, even the smartest, to only complete around seven or eight. Your pride, however, deflated considerably when you discovered that Barty Crouch, a guy with a questionable sense of humor and a worrying level of disinterest in seemingly anything that didn't have a pair of nice legs and a skirt, had surpassed you.

Indignation and envy aside, you felt like you were being pushed to the limit with these constant stares.

Pandora thought he was in love with you. An opinion that, respectfully, you laughed in her face when you heard. There was no way in hell that something like that would happen. Not only was Barty stupidly attractive and therefore completely out of your league - but the mere idea of ​​someone being romantically interested in you made you feel...well, weird would almost be a descriptive enough word.

You didn’t want romance. You never really understood the appeal of it, not at such a young age. Love distracts, it makes people lose sight of the goal, it makes them silly and vulnerable. And you didn’t have time to be silly and vulnerable, not with the weight of so many responsibilities on your shoulders, with dreams and grand ambitions waiting for you in the future. And surely no guy who had trouble keeping himself from cumming as soon as he got in your pants would understand that well enough. You were used to keeping yourself apart, it was almost a defense mechanism at this point. While other girls your age were collecting love, you were collecting good grades in the classes. And that was okay.

Don’t get me wrong, you weren’t necessarily a pessimist (but you certainly weren’t someone who believed in anything; your mother always told you that there was more wisdom in proving it for yourself than in believing in mere whispered words here and there). You just didn’t really understand how this whole love thing could be remotely interesting at your age.

And anyone with half a functioning brain cell knows that Crouch is chaos incarnate: loud, mischievous, and impossible to ignore. He's determined to break every rule ever made by man, but somehow still manages to be absurdly endearing while doing it. It just makes you want to run — to hide. He's definitely the kind of trouble you try to avoid as much as possible in your life.

And that's why the possibility of him being in love with you was definitely not encouraged. In fact, you vehemently refused to even acknowledge it. Simply because it wasn't possible — by any means. Neither would he be interested in you in that way, and much less could you afford to accept any soft feelings from him, on the off chance that they were real. So you cling to the only coherent explanation for all this supposed interest of his: cruel intentions.

Yes, that had to be it.

And it's with that thought in mind that you hurriedly gather your things as soon as Professor Binns finally finishes his almost endless speech and dismisses the class.

You don't look to the side as leave the classroom with brisk steps, but feel his gaze following you anyway.

ii.

Regulus Black was very handsome.

Like, unfairly handsome.

You stare at the Slytherin with a fair amount of jealousy oozing from your pores, a pout on your lips and a furrowed brow. The guy, for his part, doesn’t even seem to be aware of your spiteful gaze upon him, taking elegant, measured bites of the chocolate pudding on his plate, nodding discreetly every now and then to agree with whatever his chatterbox neighbor is saying.

He clearly doesn’t want to engage in any conversation with the boy, but he’s too courteous and polite to make any rude comments about it. Because of course, he’s Regulus Black.

With his aristocratic nose elongated in an undeniably masculine way, but maintaining a delicate curve and a pert tip in a disturbingly cute way - the soft dusting of freckles over the bridge only intensifying the cuteness. His thick, dark eyebrows, drawn in a perfectly symmetrical arch. His pale, smooth skin like the most flawless marble sculpture. His beautiful, onyx curls, framing the sides of his face like he was some ethereal creature from a fairy tale. His eyes, deep-set and beautifully flickering between green and blue, surrounded by the most ridiculously thick curtain of dark lashes you’d ever seen on anyone. And that was just Regulus Black’s face. It was taking absolutely everything in you not to start a detailed analysis of his damn tall, ripped Seeker body.

Now, you hadn’t planned on spending the night cataloging how many unfair ways Regulus Black managed to be more pretty than any other boy you’d ever seen in your life — by Merlin, he was prettier than most GIRLS you’d ever seen, too. You definitely didn't plan on feeling completely humiliated by his appearance that night, as if you looked like you'd been beaten by a Whomping Willow and never recovered from it.

None of that was in the plan, but at some point during Professor Slughorn's endless ramblings and the pretentious comments from the students of this small and select club of supposedly exceptional young people, you found your mind wandering to unwanted places. Unfortunately, Regulus Black was the one sitting right in your line of sight, on the other side of the table - and the poor guy was the victim of your mental fixation to escape boredom.

At first, you saw Slughorn's invitation as an invaluable honor. After all, you had been included in the extremely selective list of the most promising students at Hogwarts. Your body practically vibrated with excitement in the days leading up to the meeting. You picked out a cute dress for the occasion, fixed your hair and even applied a light layer of makeup. Your expectations were admittedly high and you planned to leave the meeting with some good friends and a lot of extra knowledge in your pocket.

But the meeting was nothing like you imagined.

Yes, the students present were all exceptionally talented in one way or another, and the food was quite good too. But the whole thing proved to be nothing more than a parade of superiority and arrogance, so dull and unsatisfying that it drained your energy within the first few minutes.

Slughorn was genuinely proud of having assembled such a group of model young minds, but the students were only concerned with proving who was better than the other. There was no stimulating conversation and extra knowledge as you had imagined - it was just an irritating and inconvenient contest of who had the best and most absurd lived experiences (most of them made up, you were sure) and who, in fact, stood out with it. 

You wanted to leave within the first fifteen minutes of this verbal ordeal, but forced yourself to stay for the sake of Professor Slughorn, who was genuinely elated by the whole thing.

Black and you were the only ones who hadn't shared any stories with the others, resigning yourselves to discreet and scattered comments here and there, just enough to let them know you were present.

To escape the absolute boredom, you let your mind wander. And that's how you ended up hyper-fixated on Regulus Black and his immaculate beauty. The Slytherin proved to be a very effective source of distraction, although his flawless face showed no emotion, remaining as expressionless as a doll - it was clear that the guy also wanted to get rid of this meeting urgently.

Your attention is only broken when a dramatic noise sounds at the entrance of the room, announcing someone's arrival.

Your eyes widen when you see none other than Barty Crouch Junior stumble into the room, spectacularly late. He smiles broadly at the alarmed looks at his indiscreet entrance, walking calmly with his hands in his pants pocket.

There must have been some mistake, you think in bewilderment as you watch him walk over to the table as if he belonged there.

Maybe he was just here to deliver a message?

Your hunch is proven wrong when he seems to notice your presence with a surprised look, his arrogant smile softening immediately to give way to a more natural, more sincere one. Even with a few options open, you sigh in no surprise when you hear him sit down in the empty chair next to yours, sliding in with the kind of ease that makes it seem like he belongs there, as if he was destined from the start to end up sitting next to you tonight.

You refuse to look at him, turning your face downwards as you busy yourself with sinking the spoon into your own half-eaten chocolate pudding. His audacity to sit next to you only makes you more frustrated - it's not like you're sending out the least bit receptive vibes to his company.

"It's very good to have you with us, Crouch. Even if you arrived later than agreed. It's a shame, I'm afraid you missed some very interesting experiences from your colleagues."

You want to roll your eyes at what Slughorn says from the head of the table, hardly classifying any of those made-up nonsense as remotely interesting, but his presence beside you makes you too tense to do so.

"I'm sorry about that, Professor, I had to finish some important work before I came. I promise I'll be here on time next time."

There's not much sincere regret in Ravenclaw's voice, in fact you swear you can hear something mischievous in his words, which almost makes you want to lift your head to look at his expression.

But, determined as you are to ignore anything Barty would no doubt say to start a conversation, you tilt your head down a little more so that your hair partially hides your face, still showing great interest in the pudding. Crouch, breathing beside you, makes a small sound of confusion at the obvious walls you’ve been putting up, before the sound turns into something akin to amusement.

“You know, ignoring me isn’t going to make me leave,” he says cheerfully — far too cheerfully for someone who’s supposedly (and rightly so) being ignored on purpose.

His recognition of your intentions means you can’t keep up your charade any longer. So, with a heavy sigh, you peer through your hair, already knowing what to expect.

There, right next to you, casually sitting like he was the male protagonist of some clichéd, cheesy romance novel, Batry Crouch smiles.

You feel your eye twitch.

Unlike Regulus, with his ebony curls elegantly arranged around his face, Barty always had that look of someone who tossed and turned all night in bed and didn't even bother to use a comb when he woke up. Locks of light brown hair stuck out in every direction, a mess of strands as chaotic as absolutely everything about him. A few lighter strands stood out among the brown mess, oscillating in a rich shade of gold and honey. And oh Merlin, did the look suit him.

"You look so beautiful tonight. I like that dress on you." He comments, seemingly oblivious to what his words spoken out of absolute nothingness could do to you. Or perhaps very purposefully aware of them. "By the way, you always look beautiful so..."

He's waving his hand in the air as if to emphasize the point that those supposed good looks were normal for you. And of course you get really nervous. It's true, no matter how much you try to deny it to yourself. No matter how much you deny the reasons for being nervous either. You're just not used to compliments, from anyone. Yet you appreciate them very much. Not that you're ever going to admit it, especially to someone as unruly as Crouch.

But you're worried that ravenclaw will notice how nervous you really are anyway, Merlin knows that would only boost his ego and further intensify his apparent commitment to poking you in the most annoying ways. It's a colossal effort to try to calm yourself down while simultaneously trying to stop the blush that was forming on your face. But by heavens, it's really challenging to do so when he's staring at you so openly and intently - oh my, he really doesn't have any respect for the boundaries of proper social behavior, did he?

Your eyes sparkle, cheeks turning pinker as you stare at him with a mixture of shyness and a violent session of anger daggers from beneath your lashes. You’re visibly flustered the longer he stares at you (and unlike you, he’s very comfortable with it), your hands fidgeting with each other on the table in a nervous gesture, having long since given up on poking at the poor chocolate pudding.

Barty blinks briefly at your nervous gesture before returning his eyes to yours. “You know you look so cute when you’re all blushing like that,” he teases playfully. “You look like a little strawberry or something.”

You let out a low, uncomfortable meow in your throat, feeling like you could burst into a ball of flames at any moment. What kind of dysfunctional compliment is that? He’s so horrible at it!

“But then again, I’ve never seen you blush that much,” Barty continues as if the observation wasn’t completely humiliating and unnecessary, his head tilted closer to your flaming face with genuine interest. Your gut churns and protests, seemingly trying to eat itself. What’s with that damn look on his face anyway? “Wait…do I make you shy, princess?”

You hate him. You hate him so much, You swear to Merlin, Barty is the worst. He can’t let a girl blush without drawing undue attention to it?! Sure, it’s a little like baking in your dress from how hard your body is blushing, and yeah, maybe you’ve never reacted like that to anyone else — but that’s no big deal!

Except Barty’s looking at you like it is. Like he wants to cut you open, dissect your insides and see for himself just how deep your supposed secrets are, and it’s doing things to you.

Your face won’t stop burning. “What a stupid ideia, of course you don’t — of course I don’t…” Your sudden, complete inability to form a coherent sentence only makes you more frustrated. “Just shut up, Crouch.”

But he doesn’t, of course he doesn’t. This is Barty.

“If you’re going to lie about this, at least be convincing,” he smiles wider, a sickly sweet humming sound in his throat, as if the whole situation pleases him beyond words.

You frown, hissing through your teeth as you ball your hands into fists, saying the first thing that comes to mind. “Stop smiling, idiot. This isn’t funny.”

The teasing glint in his blue eyes softens to something gentler at your discomfort.

“I’m not smiling to make fun of you little lion, believe me.”

Barty hums, lifting his hand from the table to reach out towards what appears to be, to your complete horror and shock, your face. Any naughty joke dies in your throat, your eyes widening in response, a blush creeping across your skin. A sharp gasp escapes your parted lips and you blink owlishly at those fingers so close to reaching your cheeks.

The boy freezes along with you, surprised by your reaction, his fingers frozen in midair as if he had been struck by a Glacius. You barely notice, though. All you can hear is the anxious beating of your own heart, the electricity that seems to crackle from the fingertips that threaten to brush against your skin.

He’s not…he shouldn’t be touching you. And he’s not, in fact. But then why does that make you feel suddenly dazed and pliable like long-whipped cream? It’s almost a disappointment that he hasn’t extinguished those last few inches and touched your flaming cheeks. You almost regret not knowing what his fingers would feel like on your skin.

What?

The thought comes so quickly, so naturally, that it almost makes you jump.

“Huh...” He breathes and you blink pathetically, coming back to the present with a startled expression and hands strangely damp with cold, nervous sweat. His eyes grow curiously darker, and he realizes, you know he does, you know the exact moment he understands something that not even you are willing to acknowledge, and holy shit, no. Just—no. No.

And when you turn your face away to escape that undesirably intense eye contact (and the equally undesirably feelings that come with it), you realize that damn Regulus Black has finally gotten tired of pretending to pay attention to what the boy next to him is saying. Because now his attention is completely focused on you and Barty and the strange exchange that just happened.

He’s wearing what you’d initially think is a completely neutral expression, but a closer look reveals the slight lift of his eyebrow as he slowly, appraisingly slides his eyes between you and Barty, as if silently contemplating something. For some stupid reason, as he stares at you like that, you feel a lot like a child caught by mom doing something their shouldn’t. He seems to find whatever he’s looking for when he allows a small, almost imperceptible smirk to lift the left corner of his lip, his sharp gaze shining with far more mischief than you’d expect from someone as emotionally distant as him.

You silently wish the ground would open up and swallow you right there, taking you to the deepest abyss - or any fucking place where you can just forget this whole thing ever happened. Your face is so heated with humiliation that you can literally feel your cheeks tingling with red, which only makes Regulus’s smirk grow a little wider.

Your resentment towards Barty Crouch Jr and his colossal guilt in this unspeakable situation grows along with that stupid grin.

“I’m leaving,” you announce abruptly, much louder than necessary, glad that Slughorn is now too engrossed in a conversation with a Hufflepuff in the far corner of the room to notice your cowardly and untimely exit. Before you do, however, you narrow your gaze at Barty while practically hissing through your teeth. “And, by Merlin, you better forget this whole thing ever happened or I swear I’ll spell you and make you vomit slugs all weekend, Crouch. I’m just going to — damn, just...bye.”

And then you’re off, without even allowing the ravenclaw to answer you — he’s already said too much, anyway.

Your stubborn gryffindor streak is trying too hard to sugarcoat the situation and convince you that this was a brave and completely strategic exit, to avoid more trouble. But the truth is, it's just you running, shamelessly running away with your tail between your legs while you can still feel Barty Crouch's gaze burning into the back of your neck and Regulus Black's annoyingly knowing smirk etched into your mind the entire way.

iii.

You never neglected your duties as Head Girl, ever.

So it was extremely unusual that you, on your patrol night, would be hiding in a dark, secluded alcove with a gray cat curled up on your lap while you cried everything you hadn’t cried in longer than you could remember.

You supposed it was bound to happen sooner or later, given the circumstances. But it was really inconvenient that it was on the night of your patrol.

A few days ago you received an owl from your parents with the news that your aunt, probably the person you loved most in the world, had passed away. Despite your intense feelings for her and the absolute shock of reading the letter, you didn’t shed a single tear. Not that night and not in the nights that followed. You grieved, of course; silently and internally. But for a moment you truly believed that this was it - this was all the grief you would ever feel.

Maybe you felt things differently than other people. Maybe you didn’t need to wallow in grief and tears like most people tended to do during their mourning.

And then, as you were patrolling the halls earlier that night, you spotted a cat approaching. At first, there was nothing special about it; cats were everywhere in the castle. Except this cat, furry and gray and with the smug air of someone who was countless miles above you in the social hierarchy, was almost identical to the cat your beloved aunt had kept. The same cat you spent the summers teasing, fluffing its soft, well-groomed fur while the animal gave you its best utter scornful glare — your aunt’s laughter ringing in the background, amused and affectionate.

And that was it.

Before you even realized what was happening, you felt the first tears roll down your cheeks, chest shaking with a shaky sob that fought to escape your lips. Like a burst dam, you felt something break inside you, intense and abrupt. There was no way to control the torrent of emotions that threatened to suffocate you, all you could do was run to find a place where no one could witness your collapse.

The cat, surprisingly, followed your hurried steps all the way, settling between your ankles as soon as you found a safe alcove, wrapping its long tail around your legs as you slid down the wall until you fell to the floor. You cried and sobbed and it purred the whole time; its soft, furry little body rubbing against your skin in a strangely comforting way. It made you feel a little better with its presence, the way it went out of its way to keep you company - as it knew it would do you good at that moment.

Small sobs escape your lips and the weight on your chest threatens to suffocate you for a moment and you choke, covering your mouth.

It's clear that this is undoubtedly a dramatic and unfortunate consequence of trying to internalize your feelings as you always do. But the worst thing is knowing that, when this sudden storm of emotions passes, you'll do it again. Because that's what you always do with your feelings. Run and hide.

The only consolation is knowing that no one other than the poor cat who had the misfortune of crossing your path (or would it be the opposite?) is witnessing this embarrassing moment. You're alone.

At least you think you're alone — until you're not anymore.

The flames in the braziers arranged on the stone walls cast shadows on the floor as someone approaches. And you don't need to look up to know who it is. There's no need to, because you feel the weight of his gaze, the same impossible-to-ignore gaze as always. You know it's Crouch without a doubt and you don't want to be seen like this. Not by anyone, but certainly not by him.

This seems to be enough of a motivator for the cry to die in your throat and suddenly your focus is solely on getting away of here. Get away from him. You need air, space, something.

You stand on shaky legs so fast you feel dizzy, your balance already precarious from the headache from crying so much, and the impact makes you stumble. For a split second, you think you might fall — your ankle twists awkwardly, the world tilts — and then a strong hand grabs your wrist, another braces on your back, steadying you before you can hit the ground. The cat running away during the confusion.

You don’t process what happens immediately, the abrupt turn and your own reeling mind making it hard to form a coherent judgment. Your mind is still stuck on running away and I can’t breathe, and it takes a second to realize that Barty is holding you upright, his hands firm but careful on your body, his expression wavering between amusement and concern.

“Hey hey little lion, what’s the rush?” He teases as always, but his voice loses its careless tone as he seems to get a better look at your face. And you can only imagine the shitty visual you’re giving off. The flames on the walls highlighting the wet trail of tears on your flushed cheeks, your eyes puffy and red from crying, teeth sinking into a quivering bottom lip, hair messy around your face. You look like hell, and you know it.

It doesn’t help that Barty is still examining your face, his eyes narrowing beneath heavy brows that furrow together.

You pull away from him, a little too quickly, a little too abruptly.

“I’m fine.” You spit before he can elaborate on whatever it is that’s on his mind.

Crouch doesn’t look convinced. “Are you sure?Because honestly, princess, It's not what it seems.” He tilts his head to get a better look at you. "Did someone hurt you? Tell me who made you feel like this, please, I swear I-"

"I said I'm fine." You cut off the endless stream of words, looking down as you adjust your shirt against your body, shifting the weight to your other foot, ignoring the new wave of tears that threaten to spill from your eyes. In the same way that you purposefully ignore how his readiness to solve whatever it is that made you feel so bad makes you feel...things. "Go bother someone else, Crouch."

Barty exhales, something heavy in the sound. You look up at the sound, almost uncomfortable with the change. For the first time, his blue eyes aren't filled with that same joy or mischief its always had. Just something inquisitive, something that makes your chest ache in a way you don't have the strength to deal with right now.

"Why...why do you do this?" he asks, softer now, but no less intense. Your brows furrow in confusion at the question, eyes still bright with unshed tears. He sighs, giving you a look that is nothing short of wistful. “Why do you try so hard to pretend that you don’t need anyone to care? You always act like you carry the whole world on your own and you’re doing just fine.”

Your fingers curl into your palms. Your lips tighten. You don’t want to hear this. You don’t want to acknowledge how close his words are to the truth. Your throat tightens.

“Why do you care?”

Barty lets out a sigh, tilting his head slightly, his eyes scanning your face as if you’re something he’s trying very hard to decipher. Then he laughs, low and humorless.

“You really don’t get it, do you?” His voice is lower now, something dangerously close to vulnerability. Your fists clench to the point of pain at your sides. “I care because it’s you.”

You blink at him, unable to understand, unable to accept whatever it is he’s trying to tell you. In fact, something inside you whispers that you do. But it feels like too much, like more than you can handle, more than you can comprehend. You feel impossible, a being made of knots and thorns, too tight in your own skin.

“Please,” you sigh then, tired and tearful, the next wave of tears finally spilling over your waterline to run down your wet cheeks, “let’s not do this now…I just, please—”

“Shhh,” he silences your incoherent protest as he pulls you closer with a firm but still gentle tug on your wrist. Your head sinks into the hard planes of his chest as you follow the pull with the naturalness of a wooden doll, your eyes wide and still leaking water — because, Merlin, he’s hugging you.

Your nose is buried in the white dress shirt of his uniform, and the first thing you notice is how strangely good he feels. Warm and comfortable against the chilly wind that blows in through the hallway’s openings, smelling like the wood that fuels the flames of the many fireplaces around the castle’s many and the fresh mint of the tea you drink before bed. And you don’t know what to do with it, what you’re supposed to be doing here. Your body is stiff and trembling as he gently wraps his arms around you, as if you’re something priceless, leaning in so he can bury his nose in the roots of your hair.

“Relax.”

And as if that small, whispered ‘relax’ was all you needed to pull yourself out of your own mind, you slowly feel every muscle beneath your flesh give way and do exactly what he asked; your body relaxing against his, doe eyes blinking against the softness of his shirt, lips parted as you let his presence comfort you.

He feels safe, trustworthy. And it’s so rare that you feel this way that even though you know it would be over in an instant, you don’t want to, and it doesn’t matter, and…your fingers ache to touch him back. It feels like a lifetime before you allow yourself to and you’re returning it. You wrap your arms around his waist to hug his back, gripping the fabric under your hands so tightly it hurts, but you can’t bring yourself to let go, face sinking into his chest to sob some more. Please, don’t make him let go.

“It’s okay, we’ll have time to talk later,” he murmurs into your hair, “I’m not going anywhere.”

And he doesn’t. He lets you cry and sob into his shirt, completely ruining it in the process. But Barty doesn’t care, not even when you sniffle and move to pull away after realizing how messy you’ve been. He just mumbles, 'It's okay, princess, I just want to help you feel better' - something that makes you blush and cry a little more. Because, good heavens, no one has ever said something like that to you.

At one point, you realize that you're both sitting on the floor, his back against the wall and you're half-sitting on the floor, between his legs, face still against his chest - feeling his deep, even breathing calm you down.

By the time tears stop falling, you're exhausted. You've been exhausted for so long, but this kind of exhaustion is different. Better. You realize that you're lighter now than you've felt in a long time, thanks to Barty Crouch Junior. And you...don't know how you feel about that.

And you're too exhausted to think about it.

But you do know one thing.

You don't hate this comfortable contact with him. You don't hate his fingers gently combing through your hair, untangling knots you didn't even know were there. You don't hate his whispers close to your ear, reciting the name of every constellation visible in the dark sky.

You certainly don't hate this moment of peace, a white flag you've raised to wave lazily between the two of you.

When you pull away some time later, struggling to smooth out your wrinkled skirt and shirt, you mumble a thank you to him with heated cheeks and shy eyes. And when he smiles back with his hands in his pockets and head tilted to the side, telling you not to mind, that it was nothing - and you freeze, feeling...

Disappointed?

It was nothing, really. This could never be anything other than 'nothing'. But for some reason, hearing that from him hits you in a completely unexpected and senseless way.

He notices the change in the shine in your eyes, rushing to rephrase what he said with a series of 'wait, that came out wrong' and 'please, I didn't mean it like that'. But you calm him down, assuring him that everything was fine and that it really was nothing, he’s more than right about it.

Before he can argue with that, you’re walking, smiling over your shoulder as you bid him a hasty goodnight before rushing off to your dorm.

Barty was right. This was nothing.

[coldilikeit]

CONTAINS SPOILERS, ONLY SLIGHT BUT STILL, also characters explainations

Yandere DC x Pjo

_____________________________

ne thing I don't agree with most of the "Neglected reader" series is that once they realize the reader is worthy of their love, they stop loving each other???

Like there are scenarios where they will fight each other for the reader, that doesn't sit right with me, they share secrets and trauma together and trust each other with their life, that's not going to disappear because of the reader

So in my story, Batfam still loves each other despite what happened to the reader, and this love for family is crucial to future chapters

So protective Jason, at chapter five, glaring at Jon and all

AND ALSO

Most of the time the only reason Batfam loves the reader is out of pure guilt, they don't actually love the reader

Another change in my story is that, the Batfam and reader have their moments, though it's rare, the reader still makes memories with Batfam, although their painful ones

The batkids has created an image in their head that the reader is this pathetic person who was lucky enough to be born rich, and that was the holding grudge to why Batfam treated the reader badly

Yes Damian was also born rich, but he was suffering, when Damian got accustomed to Bruce's affection he felt bitter that the reader had this affection and yk

Bruce on the other hand, is raw, He got the reader when he was still building his reputation as batman, he didn't think a fling child was important, until dick came, he became a sidekick and there he decided to make you one too

To Bruce you were a convenience, just another assistant to him, and he wasn't really a father, but rather an employer, he built his relationship with Dick through being a sidekick, while having no relationship with you turned you into one for more assistance

But it doesn't mean they don't love you, of course they do, that's the main reason Bruce made you stop being a Robin in the first place, because you were a target

It's just that in their heads, you were already this insignificant person, they didn't realize how much you meant to them until you died

Even if you didn't die, if you weren't taken to Camp half-blood, they would have realized their love for you on their own

Only problem is, at camp half-blood, you were able to heal

Inside the Manor, you weren't

So chances of you forgiving them are higher when you're at camp rather than staying in the manor

The difference is also the trauma, you grew up inside the Manor since birth, you were comfortable

That's why the family didn't think to give you that much attention in the first place

That trauma is also why you don't like how your mom said "I'm giving you attention cause you're pitiful"

[lihhelsing]

steddie | 888 words | angst | mature

CW: drug use, implicit violence

Written for @steddieangstyaugust Day 3

Prompt: "The sunset looks lovely, don't you think?"

Part 2 | Part 3

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"The sunset looks lovely, don't you think?"

Eddie looks up from the joint he's rolling to find the only face he never thought he would see out here. 

"King Steve," he says, and maybe it's his imagination but Harrington seems to flinch at his words. "What can I do for you?"

Eddie goes back to rolling his joint. There's a part of him that thinks this could be a trap. Last week the entire swimming team had to do a test to make sure they were all clean and one of the guys didn't pass it. 

He didn't pass it because Eddie had sold him some stuff the week before so maybe now Steve was here to put Eddie in his place. 

Eddie lights up the joint and takes a long drag. If he's going to get a beating, then he might as well do it while high out of his mind. 

"I was hoping you'd sell me something," Steve says. Eddie looks at him with the joint between his lips, trying to assess him. 

"Sorry man, I'm all out," Eddie knows best than to create evidence against himself. 

Steve looks at the open metal lunchbox on the table and raises a brow. "Really?"

"Really," Eddie says. He doesn't bother closing it and he doesn't mind if Steve knows he's lying. 

"Jordan told me all I had to do was say that bullshit thing about the sunset and you'd get me something." 

Eddie turns his face to blow out smoke. Fucking Jordan. He had come up with that password phrase to avoid getting in trouble. If people really wanted to buy something, then they would have to come up to Eddie and say it. 

"He lied," Eddie says and he can see Steve's getting annoyed. 

He gets up and put his joint out, pocketing it for later. 

Eddie could definitely use a few extra bucks this week because their kitchen sink stopped working and Wayne doesn't get paid until the end of the month, but it's not worth the risk of getting in trouble. Eddie knows the money he brings home is what helps keeping them afloat, even if Wayne likes to pretend he doesn't know where Eddie gets it.

He closes his lunchbox and moves to walk past Steve, but feels a hand wrapping around his wrist, stopping him.

It's not a strong hold, he could easily break free and walk away, but Eddie stops. He doesn't think he ever got this up close with Steve, which is both thrilling and terrifying.

"Please, man," Steve says, his voice is really low and he's wearing sunglasses, so Eddie can't see his eyes. "I just need something to get the edge off."

Eddie looks down to where they are touching and feels a fucked up thrill going down his spine. Steve's hand is big enough to circle his wrist without much effort and Eddie wonders how it would feel to have that in a different scenario. 

He wonders how it would feel if Steve were to grab him and throw him down on the table. He could probably hold both his wrists with one hand, and Eddie would be helpless to do anything but take whatever Steve wanted to give him. 

Steve moves and Eddie doesn't even flinch, thinking he might get what he wished for after all, but Steve just takes out his sunglasses and Eddie's breath catches in his throat.

Steve has a big bruise around his left eye. It's ugly and it can't be older than a day. It must hurt like hell and Eddie has to fight the urge to touch it. 

"My head is killing me," Steve offers. He looks defeated and Eddie can't ignore the way his heart twist at the words. 

Eddie should ignore it. He should pull his arm away and walk out, leave him out here alone. But Eddie is not a fucking monster.

He picks up the barely smoked joint and offer it to Steve, who lets go of Eddie's arm and takes it immediately. 

Eddie decides not to think about the absence of his touch, and instead watches as Steve puts it between his lips and how that essentially means their lips touched, somehow.

Steve is giving him a hopeful look and Eddie should walk away but instead he picks his lighter and lights him up. 

The first drag floods Steve's expression with relief and he lets out a low moan that makes Eddie's whole body tingle. 

"How much do I owe you?" Steve asks, already moving to get his wallet. His arm brushes Eddie's but he doesn't seem to mind the proximity. 

"Consider it a free sample," Eddie says and Steve eyes him suspiciously. 

"You gotta let me pay you," Steve says and Eddie has to stop himself from saying 'you can pay me with something other than money.'

Even if he doesn't say it, Eddie is under the impression the words float around them like ghosts. Steve raises a brow and Eddie has to laugh it off before he starts taking off his clothes. 

"Don't worry, big boy. Enjoy your free sample."

And with that, Eddie retreats before he does something stupid like kiss King Steve. That would get him a beating for sure and Eddie likes a little pain, but he probably wouldn't like that. 

[treacheryinblue]

「 ON DISPLAY 」 noah sebastian ⨯ f!reader

▷ chapter one

noah is your neighbor and your new favorite view thanks to his lack of curtains. you're pretty sure he prefers it this way. but the man you've created in your imagination is nothing like reality and you soon find yourself falling prey to a past lifestyle you had been desperately on the run from. trigger warnings : language, eventual smut, violence, mention/flashbacks of abuse, alcohol and drug use, sexual harassment/assault (nongraphic). word count : 6.2k comment to be added to the tag list for future chapters!

masterlist

“Goddamn. This apartment just got so much better.”

Your mouth fell agape after you followed your best friend’s gaze until you were both staring across to the window opposite of yours. With only a narrow walkway separating the two apartment buildings, it gave you a perfect view into the curtainless home. 

A man stood in the living room, shirtless, his torso of tattoos on display for you to gawk at. Your eyes trailed the bits of bare skin slowly, pausing just where his black athletic shorts sat low on his hips. He was doing some stretches that you immediately recognized as yoga poses. Not your workout of choice but who were you to judge when your breakfast that morning had been a stale bag of Doritos? 

“Fuck…I didn't know yoga could be so hot.” 

Both you and Melinda - Mel - took synchronized steps closer before kneeling onto your couch, elbows resting on the back ledge for comfort. 

“Should we be watching him like this? I mean…doesn't it make us kinda creepy?”

Mel shrugged, her palms shifting to cradle her chin as she stared adoringly at your way too hot neighbor. “Nah, it's fine. It would only be creepy if he was watching you work out.”

“Sounds a little hypocritical.” 

“He's the one half naked in front of an open window!” She motioned dramatically to the lack of coverings on the floor to ceiling windows of his apartment. “He's asking to be watched.” 

With a roll of your eyes you could only laugh, head shaking at your friend. You weren't going to touch on that specific topic with her because Mel could be rather sensitive at times. The last thing you needed after enduring the stress of moving was to have a petty argument break out. 

“Shit, I gotta go. I'd love to sit and watch this absolutely stunning show all day, but Madam Roslyn needs her brat’s dry cleaning.”

Your nose scrunched at the mention of Mel's boss. She used the term ‘Madam’ in mockery towards the horrid woman, although that's how Roslyn preferred to be addressed. She clearly didn't view it as laughable as the rest of the city did when referring to a millionaire with two ridiculously evil twins. 

“Tell Satan and Lucifer ‘hi’ for me.” 

“You do know that's pretty redundant, right?”

“Yeah, but I don't care. It gets my point across.” You waved her off with a motion of your hand before bringing the same hand to your lips to blow a kiss in her direction. 

“Bye, bitch! Let me know if you go fuck your neighbor!” 

The request didn't even warrant a response because of how unlikely that scenario actually was. Mel knew this too. She had begged you on many occasions to go out and 'stretch your legs' again aka spread them for whatever guy looked your way at a bar, and each time you did exactly the opposite. That wasn't a mistake you were going to make again. Too many scars still lingered from last time – physical and mental. 

After Mel securely closed your front door you allowed your attention to shift back out the window. Although this time when you looked out a pair of eyes were staring back at you. His hands were on his hips, his breathing slightly labored, both of you holding the other's gaze for a beat too long. Your eyes widened and you froze as you were caught in the act, but the guy only did what you could assume was a laugh from so far away, his hand then lifting in a slight wave. 

You dropped down to your couch suddenly so you were no longer visible. Your heart hammering away violently within your chest. Dammit. How fucking awkward. 

X X X 

Days were long and the nights even longer. You had managed to pick up a couple of jobs to help ease the financial burden of moving despite the hefty amount of cash stashed away beneath a pried up floorboard in your closet. It wasn't the greatest hiding place but you didn't want to risk such a large sum of money randomly going into your bank account. You feared it would trigger an alert of sorts to those you were better off without. The feeling of having to hide was exhausting and you wished more than anything that things didn't have to be this way. 

If only you had been smarter. Less naive. Not so gullible. 

You yawned as you kicked your shoes off after a tiring day of being a personal errand girl for an old man that simply went by Red. Mel had helped you get the job through her connections with Madam Roslyn and the man reminded you of your grandfather when he had been alive and well. It was an opportunity you hadn't been able to pass up. The pay was decent and he was kind enough to give you the main holidays and most weekends off. What more could you ask for in the bustling city? 

Unfortunately, his generous pay still wasn't enough to keep you afloat and comfortable in your new life. Never would you go back to skipping meals or clinging to someone because of the way they ‘took care’ of you. You were determined to do it on your own. 

“Shauna said you can get a job with her!” 

There was a fury of noise in the background of wherever Mel was, leading you to believe she had agreed to stay later with Madam Roslyn’s little terrors. Thank god you had gotten a better deal with Red’s assistant gig. Mouthy children were not your forte. 

“The Shauna who works at that one club? The one with black velvet walls?” 

“Wait…how big are your tits?” 

You paused from tugging your shirt off to look at the phone as if your best friend could see your expression from across the city. Your unamused face was from both her knack of ignoring your questions and also asking some ridiculous ones of her own. 

“Okay, whatever, doesn't matter. You're hot and have a nice ass.” Mel quickly covered as if her question hadn't caused hundreds of others to arise. 

“What the hell kind of job is this? But I can't leave Red anyway, not after he talked to me all day today about how his grandkids never visit anymore. Shit is depressing.” You scurried around your room while changing into your comfortable attire for the evening. Oversized tee, pajama shorts, and fuzzy socks. It didn't matter what time of the year it was because your feet were always freezing. 

“That's the beauty of it!” Mel squealed in delight from the other end of the call. “It's a nighttime gig. I think she said she goes in around eight and gets off at two –”

“In the morning?!” 

“I know you aren't worried about getting your beauty rest. I've seen you party all night and rally for work with fifteen minutes of sleep on the bus.” 

Okay, she had you there. You were the queen of functioning with little to no sleep. It was both a blessing and a curse. 

“Maybe. I guess. I'll have to see what kind of availability I'd be able to give.” 

With one hand carrying your phone and the other clutching a box of crackers, a pack of cheese tucked into your elbow, you came to an abrupt halt in front of your couch. Right across the currently empty sidewalk was your hot neighbor…naked…with a girl pressed against the glass. Her back was to you and her legs wrapped securely around his hips, that of which were currently ricocheting between her thighs at a rapid pace. Your eyes widened, the words you had been about to speak to Mel dying on your tongue to leave nothing but the sound of her trying to grab your attention. 

“Hello? Helloooo?” 

“He's fucking a girl right now.”

“What? Who? Oh my god! Hot neighbor?!” 

You nodded, and even though Mel couldn't see you she still erupted in excitement as if she was standing right beside you and witnessing the act as well. 

“What does she look like? Is she hot too? I bet he bags all the tattooed baddies.” 

“All I can see is the back of her head and her ass, Mel. I don't know.” 

The phone in your hand was set down after you switched it to speaker, your “girl dinner” also dropping to the couch to be tended to in a few. You were frantically trying to close your curtains to give him some privacy whether he wanted it or not, but your sudden movements must've somehow garnered his attention. 

Just as you were about to fully close your curtains his head tilted in your direction, your eyes meeting again just as they had a few days prior, but this time over the unaware girl’s shoulder. And just like then, you froze. His thrusts slowed to a pace that you just knew had to be agonizingly torturous, though you could tell by the rippling of the girl's ass that he was still being rather rough. A faint smirk tugged at his lips…or what you assumed was a smirk due to the distance between your windows. No, you were pretty sure he was smirking at you. Had he even been waiting for you to appear and see the show? 

Okay, so hot neighbor was smug as hell. You couldn't say you were surprised by that. Just the eye contact you two held was enough to drive a warmth through the entirety of your body, more specifically right between your thighs. A chill even radiated down your spine despite your flushed skin and you briefly found yourself wondering what it was like to currently be that girl pressed against his window. 

“Flash your tits! Maybe he’ll invite you over to join!” 

“Melinda!” You hissed, the screech of the curtains finally coming together to block out the scene interrupting your scolding. 

“Fuck. This guy has got to get some blinds or something.” 

Later that night while in bed, your hand had drifted down between your thighs to help ease the tension that had grown rather quickly all thanks to that damned smirk. 

X X X 

There were times when you were alone that you let your thoughts get the best of you. Your overthinking had become less and less controlled until it ate you up, leaving your cuticles in tatters and the constant sound of your foot tapping against the hardwood floor had become the soundtrack of your life. You were terrified constantly. There were so many things that could go wrong that you were truly just waiting for the pin to drop because you knew it would eventually, it was just a matter of when. 

When would you be found? When would you make the single dumb decision that would change your life forever? When would you end up six feet under at the hands of the people you were once involved with? 

Living with these thoughts day to day wasn't healthy. You knew this. You didn't need to pay some $500 an hour specialist to recite the obvious, nor did you need to sit around in a circle and reveal your deepest thoughts to strangers in a support group that only had fake sympathies to offer. This was something you could handle on your own, or so you liked to constantly remind yourself. If your past had told you anything, it was that you couldn't rely on anyone but yourself anyway. 

You took in a deep breath, held it, and then slowly exhaled while counting backwards from ten. The trick didn't work as well as it used to but you were still hopeful with every attempt. It was your first day off in over a week and while your body desperately needed the rest, your brain was still going a million miles a minute. There was a bottle of overpriced wine you had yet to touch that was living in your fridge, that of which could easily take the worries away, but you resisted. That was only a temporary fix. 

As you shifted your position on the couch for the first time in two hours, you couldn't stop your gaze from drifting out the window. Most of the time he was never there, obviously off living his life to the fullest and unconcerned about you, the strange woman who creepily watched him. But much to your surprise, there he sat. He appeared to be alone from the glimpse you took, his long body spread out on his couch in a mimic of your own. Maybe he felt your eyes on him or maybe he had been curious about you as well because after only a couple of seconds his head lifted and angled perfectly for where you sat.

Like every time before, he didn't shy away from your stare. You decided to follow his lead and not look elsewhere either. You could even feel the faintest smile appearing over your lips, a friendly acknowledgement that you saw him and also saw him seeing you.

Hot neighbor’s eyebrows pulled together slightly and his head nodded upwards, a curious expression working over his features. You figured he wanted to know what you were doing, so you promptly lifted your book so he could see the spread pages. It wasn't like he had to know that you hadn't flipped a single one in a good hour. He nodded, his face now reading as impressed. A brief moment later and he was exchanging the same information with you, allowing you to see the notebook and pen held within his hands. A writer? How interesting. 

It was amazing what could be communicated without words. 

Long, drawn out seconds later, you both returned to your own lives, but you still occasionally found yourself glancing to his curtainless window. 

X X X 

“H-O-T-T-O-G-O! You can take me hot to go!” You loudly sang with the group crowded into your apartment, all of you tossing your hands up along with the lyrics in the way Chappell Roan had bestowed upon you. 

Surely you would get a fine for being so loud but you and Captain Morgan couldn't care less. At that moment you were having the time of your life for the first time in months and that's what was important to you. Not work. Not the dark cloud looming over your head. Nothing but having the best fucking time before reality set in. 

Mel danced up against you as you ground your hips into Dean, one of your other friends who always had the best manicures and didn't know what a “full length shirt” was. If he wasn't showing off his abs then what was the point of life? All his words. 

“Order up, I'm hot to goooo!” You tossed your hair around and dragged your hands along the length of your body, paying special attention to your chest and hips - both of which were accentuated in the dress you wore. 

How had you ever thought throwing a “house warming” party would be a bad idea? God, sober you was such a fucking drag sometimes. Parties were fun as hell and you made a silent pledge to yourself right then to have them more. 

As your fingertips dragged along your thighs, hiking the hem of your dress up a bit in the process, you felt your body becoming abnormally warm. Alcohol always made you flush but this was a different sensation, one that had only recently become known to you. You wanted to look around your apartment because you would've sworn he was in the same room as you, simply watching you dance and have a good time. No way could his stare be this powerful from all the way in the apartment building opposite of yours. 

But alas, you were wrong. 

Your glitter dusted eyes drifted to your window where twinkling lights had been hung. You could just barely make out the image of his silhouette across the walkway, one hand in his pocket as the other arm rested against the glass above his head. Thanks to his eyes acting like actual fingers, you didn't need to question the possibility of what he was focused on. You could feel every trace along your heated skin.

Although he was a distance away, you were imagining that he was right across the room. Watching you. Devouring you. Dean wandered off to join a duo he excitedly greeted as they walked in, leaving the front of your body on full display for hot neighbor. Your hips continued to sway while your hands trailed along your body, one paying special attention to your breasts as the other slowly lowered back down to where the short hem of your dress rested at the top of your thighs. You imagined him licking his lips and raising his eyebrows for you to continue, silently challenging you to put on more of a show for him. 

It didn’t matter how many people were in your apartment and could see you because everything you did in that moment was for him and only him. 

Ever so slowly your fingers dipped beneath your dress to trace along your inner thigh to tease him, and also yourself in the process. You didn't think it was possible for his gaze to become even heavier but you swore it drank you in and swallowed you up. The hand on your chest pushed up against your breast and your fingers dug into the ample flesh, threatening to tug the fabric down and bare yourself to him. Every inch of your body was aflame, your nerves screaming to be touched by his heavily tattooed hands you had daydreamed of on more than one occasion. 

You had no idea what it was about this man that had you in such a chokehold. Everything about him was unknown to you, yet you still craved him. Maybe even more than you had ever desired anyone before. 

The sound of your name being repeated pulled you from your trance until you had no choice but to rip your gaze from his. The music blasting through your apartment came flooding back in and you were suddenly aware of where you were again, as well as all the people surrounding you. Thankfully it didn't seem as if anyone had noticed your little bout of hypnosis. 

“We need towels!” Mel was calling to you from over the music, motioning towards the kitchen where an obnoxiously drunk guy appeared to have knocked over an entire bottle of Tito’s Vodka. The liquor was puddled on the floor, shards of glass glistening in the liquid it previously housed. 

“Son of a bitch,” you grumbled before yelling back to Mel an explanation of where she could find some spare towels. Maybe you should've gone to clean it up yourself since you were the host but you were eager to get back to the eye fucking you had been participating in with hot neighbor. Unfortunately, when you looked back through the large windows, his apartment was empty. 

X X X

“I feel so ridiculous,” you murmured to yourself beneath your breath, following the statement up with a heavy sigh. For the tenth time you tugged at the tiny black skirt you had been provided to wear, the hem riding up your ass and cupping your cheeks in a suggestive yet desirable way. Maybe Mel had been right when she said you had a nice ass. Too bad it had taken your physical discomfort for you to realize this. 

A blonde woman that appeared to be a few years older than you glanced your way with a snarky grimace, her eyes then rolling after taking you in. You tried not to pay any attention to her as you adjusted the straps of your top, as well as your breasts that were popping out. You had been told to wear your best bra, which you had, and now you could see why the request had been made. The uniforms at Nocturnal left very little to the imagination, but at least you were still wearing clothes. 

You couldn't say as much for the red head that was sauntering around the dressing room with her tits out without a care in the world. Damn. How were you supposed to get that amount of confidence? It wasn't that you were insecure, but being in the sort of relationship you had previously had definitely done a number on your mental state. You had been conditioned to believe that showing your body for anyone but him was one of the biggest sins. Amongst many other things but you had been trying very hard not to allow your thoughts to drift to those dark places. Something as simple as a v-neck t-shirt had earned you a reprimand on more than one occasion. 

“You're the new girl, yeah?” The attitude-filled blonde questioned while swiping eyeliner along her lower lash line. You glanced at her through the mirror you stood before, responding with only a slight nod. Her eyes looked you up and down again, a throaty laugh following her heavy gaze. “They're just going to looove you. New meat.” 

“Shut the hell up, Charlotte. Why do you always have to be so catty with the new ones?”

Shauna came strutting into the room at just the right time to prevent you from making an enemy on day one. She stood at your side, one hand on her curvy hip, the other resting upon your bare shoulder. The snarky blonde that you now knew as Charlotte simply rolled her eyes in the same exaggerated fashion again, a manicured hand waving in dismissal to Shauna. 

“Don't mind her,” Shauna leaned in a bit closer to you as if she was telling a secret but the volume of her voice never lowered. “She's just bitter because she doesn't get good tips anymore after her botched boob job. She's scared you'll take all of King’s attention. Not like she ever really had it to begin with.” 

You couldn't stop yourself from laughing despite your attempt to stifle it. Charlotte shot a glare at you, her fist tightening around her curling iron that she was using to touch up portions of her hair. 

“Oh, please. She's clearly not experienced enough to draw his eye. I'm not worried.” 

“Who's King?” You looked back and forth between the two women, your confusion beyond evident. Charlotte again chuckled, her tongue swiping over her plump lips while giving Shauna a look that read as 'seriously?’. 

“As I said, I'm not worried.” 

“So grouchy,” Shauna whispered while giving your shoulder a squeeze. You couldn't help but to notice how they both ignored your question. “But you look amazing! I knew you'd fit right in around here.” 

“What did she mean by all of that? Who's going to love me?” As far you knew, this was supposed to be a simple waitressing gig at a club. Sure, there was a room towards the back that housed the nude dancers but you had made it very clear that wasn't going to be your area. 

Shauna smiled kindly at you, soft laughter emitting from her. “She probably just meant the regulars,” she explained as she took your hand and began to lead you out of the dressing room. “They're the best tippers and are always on a first name basis with the girls. A few can get a little handsy but they know the servers are off limits. They have to go to the back rooms for that.”

Your eyebrows furrowed in further confusion but you didn't dare voice your questions. While you weren't naive when it came to this sort of “scene”, you also weren't well versed in it. All you really knew was what you had seen from movies and read in your books, as well as the conversations you'd eavesdrop in on between your ex and his pals. Never did you think you'd actually be a part of any of it. 

Shauna dragged you along to the bar off to the side. The music was loud enough that you couldn't even hear yourself think, so you had no idea how you were supposed to take drink orders in this place. Bodies were already piled in, all of them dancing and swaying to the music, tabletops filled with those enjoying the scenery and atmosphere. Nothing too out of the ordinary so far in comparison to waitressing jobs in the past. Those had been at family friendly restaurants, but how different could it really be? 

“I'm going to start you off with a couple of lower tables, okay? Only until you get the hang of it.” Shauna had her mouth close to your ear as she explained things, aiding in your inability to read her lips well enough. 

“I'm just taking drink orders, right? It can't be too bad.” You shrugged, a notepad and pen now in your grasp that she had passed your way. Shauna side eyed you with a smile and a slow nod of her head, silently communicating that she wasn't too sure about that. 

“Only thing you really need to know is that you've gotta smile and be friendly! These guys aren't dropping hundreds of dollars to be served by a witch with a stick up her ass. No matter how nice it may be. They like attention and thinking they have a shot with you, even though they have zero chances.” Shauna’s laughter continued as her eyes traveled along what appeared to be business men along the opposite side where the more private booths were located. “But like you said, it can't be too bad, yeah?” 

Oh, how wrong you had been. Only a couple of hours in and your feet were already aching, your black top damp and chest sticky from the drink you had recently spilled on yourself, and your frustrations were rising by the minute. It didn't help that Charlotte had decided to steal one of your main tables, leaving you with only one, as well as a couple of small bar tops. Despite your overwhelmed demeanor, the club never stopped filling. More and more bodies pressed together and you swore the music had also been cranked higher, the lights dimmed red to further set the vibe. Fuck, you were going to crash and burn on only your first night. 

“Hey!” A whistle garnered your attention, your head quickly turning to the bartender whose name you still hadn't caught. “Can you take these to VIP?” He slid a couple of glasses your way and then began to take the order of another patron before you could even reply. Your mouth opened and closed in an attempt to explain that you weren't serving VIP that night. You didn't even know where the hell VIP was. 

“Up those steps and to the right!” The same red head from the dressing rooms earlier sauntered by you while carrying a tray of empty glasses that she quickly disposed of and replaced with fresh drinks. She was no longer naked, instead adorned in the same uniform as every other waitress. 

“I…Shauna told me to stay on the lower levels,” you tossed back nervously, shaking your head. 

“Look, we're swamped! Just take the drinks up and then I'll take VIP again after I drop these off. Easy!” Then, just like the bartender, the red head was disappearing before you could respond. 

You looked at the drinks, the winding stairs that lead to the VIP level, and then back to the drinks. The glasses were already starting to sweat so you knew you had a narrow window before they became too watered down. With a deep breath, you snatched up the drinks and strutted towards the steps with as much confidence as your exhausted limbs could muster. Which, honestly, wasn't much. 

One step was cautiously taken after another, the music fading the higher you ascended. You sighed in relief when your ability to hear just yourself again resurfaced and you suddenly realized why VIP was so sought after by all the waitresses. You knew it couldn't be solely because of the tips you were likely to secure. It was also the peace of mind. 

VIP was darker than the lower levels because the lights shifting through the space never angled correctly to douse it in much color. You figured this was done with a purpose. The back perimeter was lined with black leather sectionals, glass tables centered in front of each one, and there was a railing that allowed patrons to overlook the lower level. Since this wasn't a very party-heavy area, you couldn't help but to assume it's where business took place. You had been in spaces like this many times before finding your way to this city. The thought made you uneasy because “business” sometimes meant paperwork and meetings, but it could also mean something more violent. 

Three men sat off to the right, two of them smoking cigars while the other fidgeted with something in his hand. A coin, by the looks of it. Silence overtook them when one noticed you, his eyes immediately raking over your body. It felt nothing like it did when hot neighbor did the same. Both were strangers but there was something about this particular unknown man you didn't care for. He was older, which wasn't the problem, it was more so the dead look in his eyes. 

“My sincerest apologies for the delay, gentleman,” you smiled while laying it on thick. 

“Where's Dana?” 

The man to the right spoke up, his disdain towards you quite obvious. You figured Dana was the red head you had spoken to at the bar, or so you were going to safely assume. “She’s briefly tied up with another table. She'll be right back with you. Until then, can I get you anything else?” You forced a smile, the sweetest possible in the moment. 

“Yeah,” the same rude man took a swallow from his drink and then motioned for you to step closer. “Come here. I haven't seen you before. I'd remember.” 

There was no hesitation in your motions as you closed the space between yourself and the man, no matter how uneasy he made you. Nothing had happened to make you believe he was outwardly dangerous, although you could see right through him. You knew he was the type that liked to destroy others. It was written in his eyes and the $20,000 watch hanging from his wrist. 

“What's your name?” 

Shit. Shauna had told you earlier to make up an alias for yourself and you had been too caught up with actually working that you had forgotten. She explained it was for safety but also because it could be fun to play someone else. You didn't tell her you were already doing as much and it wasn't nearly as fun as the club assumed. 

“Genevieve,” you slowly drawled. The name of your late grandmother. Oh how she’d get a kick out of this. 

The man smirked through a cloud of smoke, his lifeless eyes again looking you up and down. “Genevieve. How beautiful.” He was suddenly reaching out for you, his hand grasping your wrist to pull you closer. Keeping a hold of your wrist, he set his drink aside to free the other so he could grope along your hip and down the side of your exposed thigh. You softly gasped in shock but you didn't jerk away like your mind was screaming at you to do. Instead you stood frozen, fear shuddering through your veins. 

“Hasn't the boss and his right hand already warned you about touching the servers?” One of the other men laughed as if you were nothing more than an object for their enjoyment. In their eyes that's exactly what you were. 

Dead Eyes kept his focus on you, his rough fingertips still trailing your thigh. “Fuck the boss and his little bitch boy. What's his name? King? Kid thinks he runs this place.” 

Tears threatened to well in your eyes but you refused to let your fear show. That's what men like these wanted. They craved to feel the power they held over others, but especially women. It made them feel special in their minuscule lives. In reality, it made them weak. 

The man you stood before halted the motion of his hand just as it grazed the back of your thigh and threatened to disappear beneath your already barely-there skirt. His eyes were now looking past you, annoyance showing in his hollow gaze before his hand fell from your body. He dropped your wrist with a force while simultaneously pushing you back an inch. 

“You were already given a warning, Marcus. Two, if I remember correctly.” A new voice greeted your ears, yet you were still too frozen to turn and see who it belonged to. You could feel his eyes, though. It was so familiar. Heavy. “But here you are, still harassing the staff.” 

A figure stepped around you, gently nudging you back a few more steps. He was much taller than you with dark hair, his outfit black on black, at least from what you could tell from behind. There was something about him that commanded the attention of the room and you were more than willing to give it to him. So much that you hadn't even noticed the way he was leaning closer to the man now known as Marcus, his body slightly bent and an extended hand holding something to the repulsive man's neck. A peek to the left and you could just barely see the black splotches of ink that covered his own hand. 

“Why do you insist on touching what doesn't belong to you?” His voice lowered, the words being hissed in a threatening manner. “Don't make me remind you again just who here is the real bitch boy.” 

Marcus murmured something that sounded like an agreement, maybe an apology, which was apparently enough for the man because he stood back to his full height and then closed the knife you hadn't previously realized he was in possession of. As he turned to the side you could see the bright red line of blood that was sliced into Marcus' neck - his punishment. The wound was shallow, definitely not deadly, but you figured it got his point across. 

The man was then facing you and you slowly raised your attention to him. Your breath caught in your throat and recognition flared in your eyes. You were sure the brief shock you saw in his gaze mimicked your own, though his was fleeting and quickly returned back to the hardened glare. 

Hot neighbor. 

“I'll be sure to mention to the boss that we had a talk tonight, gentlemen.” The man spoke to the small group without so much as a glance back to them. His attention was too focused on you, his hand placed on the middle of your back to help guide you around and towards the spiral staircase. You assumed he was going to leave you once you began your descent but he was right on your heels for the entirety of the trek, only pausing once you nearly reached the lower level. 

Lightly grasping your arm, he gave a gentle tug to bring you closer before you could scurry away. “I think a 'thank you’ is in order.” You could hear the smile in his voice, as if this situation was amusing to him. Maybe it was. You knew next to nothing about him so it wasn't as if you could truly gauge his reaction. 

“I didn't need your help,” you fired back. You didn't like to be told what to do by men on a power trip. Not anymore. “I could've handled it myself.”

“Really?” His smile widened and his posture dipped so your eyes could better meet through the darkness. “Because it looked to me like you were a frightened deer caught in the headlights. Very consistent for you.” 

At least he was admitting that he knew who you were without truly saying it. You had given him the same look from your apartment window on multiple occasions now. 

You remained silent, your eyes burrowing into his instead of trailing along his face like you desperately felt the need to. For reasons unknown you wanted to memorize every little detail and carry the memory with you forever. It didn't matter that you knew you should be somewhat afraid of him after the physical threat he placed upon Marcus. The idea of him doing the same to you never even crossed your naive mind. 

When you still didn’t respond, but also refused to back down, he returned to his full towering height over you and dropped his smile. It was like he had pulled a mask over his face to be whoever it was Nocturnal expected. But what did you know? This could be the true version of himself instead of the one you had been witnessing from your window for over a month. 

“Run along, little deer,” he gently spoke, his tone condescending, just before disappearing back up the spiral staircase. 

CHAPTER TWO

[lovesuhng]

pink pen

w.c: 1.1k fluff

You didn't know how many hours you had been in that library; you were tired, but needed to study as much as necessary to do well on your final exams. Your concentration was broken when you felt a touch on your shoulder and then came face to face with one of the most handsome men you had ever seen at that university. His bright eyes, paired with the glasses that fit perfectly on his face, the black shirt that hugged his body nicely and the smile that lifted your worries instantly. You realized he had said something, but you had no idea what it was; after all, you had gotten lost in the almost perfect features of the man in front of you.

"Sorry, can you repeat, please?" You thought that must have sounded like an idiot at that moment, but you were sure when he chuckled before replying.

"Ah, okay. Do you have a pen to lend me? I know it's silly to come to study without bringing a pen, but I must have lost all the ones I had."

"Of course." You searched your pencil case and the only pen you found was a pink one filled with glitter and with a cat on top. You felt embarrassed to hand it to the man, but he accepted it nonetheless.

"How cute! This little cat looks like my Lucy. I promise I'll give it back as soon as I finish taking my notes."

And with that, the man went back to where he was studying, a table right next to yours. You wanted to finish studying quickly, but ended up taking longer than you should have because you kept finding yourself looking at him all the time. You had never seen him at the university before, but you would do anything to find out who he was.

That's how you ended up meeting Na Jaemin, a medical student well-known to many at the university, the very definition of sunshine and certainly one of the most handsome men you had ever seen. You were already used to going to the library, but your visits to the place became more frequent, both to study and in the hope of seeing the man again, although he rarely appeared there.

One day you were in front of the library, looking through the large glass doors searching for Jaemin, but found no sign of him.

"Are you looking for something?

You jumped and screamed, startled by the voice that spoke right next to your ear. You were once again so focused that didn't even see Jaemin approaching. The man was laughing at the situation you found yourself in.

"Do you really find it funny to scare others?"

"It's not my fault you're always lost in the clouds." You just rolled your eyes and Jaemin laughed again. "But you didn't answer my question."

Of course, you wouldn't answer that you were looking for him, so you said the first thing that came to your mind. "I... uh... was looking to see if there was any available table because I need to study, but there isn't, so I'll look for another place to study. Bye."

You wanted to get out of there as quickly as possible, but were stopped by Jaemin calling your name.

"How do you know my name?"

"Let's just say I found out." You couldn't help but be surprised by the possibility that Jaemin had asked someone about your. "There's a café nearby that's great for studying. Do you want to go with me? I was already heading there." You could swear Jaemin was nervous about making this invitation to you, but it was probably just your fertile mind creating a scenario that didn't exist.

After accepting the invitation, you were already at the café with their orders placed. Both of you chatted a bit and started studying or at least trying to. Sometimes Jaemin caught himself looking at you. He found it cute how focused you were while reading or when you got a little frustrated because you didn't understand your own notes.

The truth was that Na Jaemin had been watching you for a long time; he always found you beautiful, intelligent, and was really interested in getting to know you better. With everyone else, Jaemin was the most communicative person there was, but whenever he tried to approach you, something stopped him or he just froze.

"Oh..." you said in surprise, catching Jaemin's attention. "You're still using my pen."

"Am I?!" Jaemin said with fake surprise. "It brought me a lot of luck in the last tests, but I guess it's time to give it back..."

"No need!" You interrupted Jaemin, speaking a little louder and becoming embarrassed immediately after. "Since it brought you luck, you can keep it. It kind of suits you."

When tiredness took over, Jaemin insisted on accompanying you to your dormitory, even though you said a thousand times that you didn't need it. On the way, he explained extremely excitedly that he had three kittens, Luna, Luke, and the famous Lucy, and that although they were very similar, the kitten on the tip of the pen you had given him reminded him more of Lucy than her siblings. At that moment, you realized that you could listen to the man talk about the things he likes for hours and that he became even more adorable talking about them.

"Even though I'm allergic, I love kittens." you said when they reached the front of your dormitory.

"You could come to my apartment to meet my babies any day soon..." Jaemin noticed the invitation he had made. "I mean... if you want to, of course."

"I would love to, Jaemin."

Then Jaemin approached and held one of your hands. You were praying that Jaemin wouldn't notice how nervous you were about his touch.

"Can I confess something?" You just nodded. "That day in the library, I asked to borrow your pen because I wanted an excuse to talk to you." Surprise was written all over your face. You wanted to say something, but nothing came out of your mouth. Jaemin noticed this and continued. "I've seen you for weeks, always wanted to get closer to you, but never knew how, and today I made up this excuse to invite you to study just to get to know more about you."

"I've been looking for you all week, but I thought I'd never see you again in that huge university."

"So, does that mean..."

"That I would also like to know more about you..." you handed your phone to Jaemin, in a silent request for him to write down his number. As soon as he did that, you stood on tiptoe and kissed the man's cheek, who was surprised by your gesture. You were about to enter the building when you turned to Jaemin and said, "Oh... that pen suits you more than me."

At that moment, standing in front of your building with a silly smile on his face, Jaemin realized he was stupidly falling in love with the girl with the pink pen.

[jackalope-patronus]

Wait but ur my new fav writer and I just thought of another one. Y’know in the game when there’s the option to do crucio on seb or yourself? I’d love a fic like that but where seb has a better reaction and just holds us and comforts us and ominis is lowkey third wheeling but also being comforting. Sorry I’m literally in love with Sebastian. Just something where he shushes us and kisses our head or something. I feel like the game (and movies) the cruciatus curse was very underwhelming, compared to how it was described. It’s used to torture and can make the victims go insane, it is so excruciating. It can even make people forget where they are.

Im so sorry. Tell me if im being overbearing. Thank you so much

summary :: You find yourself in an all too familiar situation, with Sebastian’s wand pointed your way and the words “Crucio.” Coming from his mouth.

warning :: torture, crucio, trauma!

note :: you’re not being overbearing at all! I really enjoy interacting with you and your ideas. A few different writers have created their own version of this scenario so I’ve done a little spin to make it just a tad bit more original.

“Anything to do with Salazar Slytherin is dangerous.”

You remember Ominis saying that some years ago, although you think you’ve misremembered a word or two from his original warning. The scriptorium was years ago. Sebastian, Ominis and you had long since graduated and settled down.

You and Sebastian had even married.

Although your school days felt distant your body seemed to remember because it was shivering at the sight of Sebastian holding his wand towards you.

“Cast it on me.” You’d said. And at first he said no, absolutely not. He would never cast such a cruel curse on his wife! The anger recollected in Ominis’s eyes spoke the words you already have.

That’s why you told him it was okay, and that it was nothing you hadn’t handled before. Opening a chamber kept by Salazar Slytherin by casting crucio, all three of you had been there! It was almost nostalgic. Almost.

“I can’t. You must cast it on me.” Sebastian’s grip on his wand faltered.

“No, Sebastian. You know I won’t.” You shook your head gently.

“Ominis—”

“Don’t you dare ask me, you know I would never.” Ominis had found a corner of the darkly lit tunnel to retreat to.

“You have to mean it. I’m not sure I’ll be able to— not again. You’re my wife.” Sebastian sputtered.

“Please Sebastian, don’t drag it out. I’d rather not stay trapped in this place much longer.” You tried to smile softly, but you knew it was no use. Your husband knows you, he can see past every fake smile.

He didn't utter a word but instead his face grew graver and he observed you carefully. You know his thoughts, you can practically hear them. Is she too frail for this? She’s handled it before, but what if it’s somehow different this time? Will there be a lasting effect? His eyes darted quickly to your tummy, but you placed a hand over your stomach to sheild yourself from his thoughts. What if she’s pregnant? It’s intrusive at best, you both know you’re not pregnant. You began to feel your stomach churn sickly in anticipation so you hardened your face. Sebastian got the signal and regained a strong grip on his wand.

You remembered seeing his knuckles blanch, before he cast the curse.

“Crucio!”

It’s familiar, a pain you recall from nightmares. One your brain liked to remind you of on sleepless nights whilst Sebastian laid beside you. You don’t blame him for it, you were children. Would you have blamed him for it now? Blame him for relenting and casting this torture on you, his wife? But you couldn’t bear him feeling it, feel the charring of nerves and the agony of retracting muscles. He doesn’t deserve it. Nobody does, but especially not him. You love him too much to think otherwise.

By the time the magic relented, you’ve regressed into a fetal lay on the floor, with twitches of remaining aches and quiet, voiceless cries coming from you.

You’re quickly scooped up into Sebastian’s warmth.

“The book Sebastian… you’ve got to get the book.” Your eyes are foggy, but you can recall only that you need to help Sebastian get a spell book to cure Ann.

However, you weren’t inside the scriptorium hidden in the walls of Hogwarts and you weren’t looking for Slytherin’s spellbook. Sebastian gazed at Ominis with a fraught face. The blonde only clutched his wand and turned his head away miserably.

“For Ann, For Ann,” you murmur.

“It’s alright. We found the book, my darling.” Sebastian’s voice was hoarse with emotion and he brought your head to his lips, uttering another reassurance before kissing your temple. He had hardly noticed the path to your exit had finally opened, he didn’t much care for anything other than your abused body.

Another incoherent mutter came from you, although the tight embrace of Sebastian’s arms matured you to reality, but a woozy reality.

“She's barely lucid. We must get her to a healer.” Ominis’ voice came as a strong command, but it barely moved Sebastian from holding you on the cold, stone floor.

You uttered something again and Ominis couldn’t be sure what it was, but Sebastian knew it was filled with sorry and regret. Whatever lingered in your mind, whether memory or illusion, made you small and weak. The complete opposite of how Sebastian knew you.

Warm lips still at your temple, Sebastian hushed you calmly, although the lump in his throat threatened to ruin him. “Ann is well. You are well.” He whispered. Both lies. His hand began to pat down your hair, removing stray strands from your face.

“Sebastian,” Ominis barked and this time, he listened.

His arms around you tightened and you were lifted further into him and away from the floor that made you shiver. “What should we do?” He pleaded.

You could now see a blurry Ominis lean over you. “Put her to sleep, give her mind a rest from the pain for a moment.”

The last thing you could hear was Sebastian muttering the sleep charm whilst both of your dearest friends looked upon you with misery. Then a peaceful rest finally found you.

[mikaela-the-slut-expert]

rrriiight i was thinking of a hualian x reader thing. the reader is a bit cold and apathetic but caring of two certain people and had been all the way through with hualian like for example, had served xie lian when he was still a prince or helped hong er from time to time. but somehow they just vanished and never came back.

surprise surprise, whilst hualian and some other gods were on a mission, they got attacked let’s say (or were in danger) and guess who came to save them? reader! and thats when it clicks for hualian. that was you. you weren’t gone. so- they never let you get away ever again.

just an idea that came to mind :D

In the Back of Your Mind

Hua Cheng x gn!reader x Xie Lian

I'm so sorry it took so long! I try to put my life updates in my bio, but I've been very busy moving houses! So I'm rlly sorry and I hope this is good!

I didn't know if you wanted reader to be a ghost or a god but I made them a ghost

Because gods don't usually disappear for like ever? Idk uhm if you don't like that just tell me and I'll edit it!

Made up a scenario that puts Xie Lian and Hua Cheng at a disadvantage

Ignore grammar mistakes

Slight OOC!!!

Made up details about reader and their life

____________________________________

Xie Lian and Hua Cheng are very happy with their relationship and their life

But something's missing

Someone's missing

They haven't seen you in a very, very long time

It's been centuries actually and you still haven't shown up

But they haven't forgotten you, even though you've been missing or maybe even dead they still think about you in the back of their head.

Xie Lian misses you dearly

You had served Xie Lian during XianLe and had always been by his side.

You took your job seriously and it was your first priority to keep Xie Lian happy

You served him well and fought for him too

Your loyalty to Xie Lian was deep and everyone could see it

Everyone knew you loved him besides Xie Lian of course.

Because it was obvious! You wouldn't utter a word to anyone else

Your presence was a cold force to anyone besides Xie Lian

You were always quick to create space with anyone who came near him too.

It seemed like you couldn't care less for anyone else's problems but Xie Lian's.

Not that it mattered to you, as long as you could stay by his side it didn't matter what you were

Whether you were his servant or guard, whether you were next to him or below him, whether he used you as a step or tool.

You never minded, you'd do anything for him even if he wouldn't do those things.

You stayed by his side when Mu Qing and Feng Xin disappeare

You stayed when his palace fell

When his parents died

When Xie Lian started on a bad path

When he turned meaner, rougher, and angrier so that he wouldn't be hurt by the world again

When he grieved because he had been done wrong

You stayed with Xie Lian for as long as you could, and you loved him deeply every second of it.

But then someone took you from Xie Lian.

You never came back

Hua Cheng misses you just as dearly.

You took care of Xie Lian so well and then you just disappeared

When Hong er as caught by Xie Lian obviously he couldn't take care of Hong er by himself

But when Xie Lian was busy, everyone else was too disgusted to touch him

And Hong er didn't want to be in anyone else's arms either

You were different though, even though you were a servant like Mu Qing and Feng Xin you reacted differently

You held Hong er gently, as if the mongrel child would fall to pieces in your arms

You wouldn't let anyone touch him or try to kick him out of the palace

Always quick, you would settle a cold glare on someone if they tried to pull Hong er from your arms

Taking care of Hong er was just as serious as taking care of Xie Lian to you

You spent a lot of time with His Cheng like that

So after Hua Cheng's first death he searched and searched and searched

He never found the two of you

When Hua Cheng had finally found Xie Lian he was so excited to finally see you both again!

Even though he doesn't want to reveal his secret just yet, he hopes the two of you won't find him disgusting for his actions

But. . . You weren't there.

Don't get him wrong Hua Cheng is very happy to see one of the loves of his life after searching so long but you have never left Xie Lian's side so where are you?

Xie Lian and Hua Cheng continued their relationship and their story without you

Which was unfortunate but what could they do?

They had both tried to search for you and found you no where

Things are always changing though

🦊🪷

It was just another mission, and it should've been quick and easy. Especially since Xie Lian and Hua Cheng tagged along. Hua Cheng was only here for Xie Lian though, no one else. The mission didn't go smoothly though.

Missions rarely go smoothly when you're in the dark woods, with lots of monsters, and a heavy fog covers the forest. Not smooth at all when lower gods are bickering with Hua Cheng and Xie Lian.

They all got lost and wherever they ended up in these dark woods, had a block on the arrays. Xie Lian can't call for help or reach the heavens and neither can the other gods. What's worse! Powers are blocked too! It's like they've all stumbled upon an area of complete silence as if they were muted.

So even Hua Cheng is struggling a little bit right? Can't break the blocking energy source if you can't find it! Of course the gods all split up, leaving Xie Lian and Hua Cheng alone. It doesn't matter to Hua Cheng if his powers have been weakened or not he'll still do everything he can to protect Xie Lian from the monsters in the woods.

The more time Xie Lian and Hua Cheng stand around in the fog the more things they see. The deeper they go, the thicker the fog gets. And the thick the fog gets the more people they start to see the more things they start to see. It's not a good thing though, it's all illusions and they figured that out quickly when Hua Cheng swipes at a humanoid figure that looks just like Xie Lian.

Xie Lian doesn't have the time to solve the problem because him and Hua Cheng have a big possibility of being hurt right now. E-ming and rouye refuse to move. Hua Cheng will happily use his body and hands to defend Xie Lian if he has to though. Xie Lian says that's silly and chooses to run, dragging Hua Cheng along with him. The foggy ghosts only chase, and it's hard to run in such thick fog.

In fact the fog is so thick that eventually after running so long the ghosts give up on running after them. Xie Lian thought they were safe now but when he looks back Hua Cheng is gone.

Xie Lian shouts for him and tries to look around but the more he looks around the fog the more humanoid figures he sees. they're just. . . Fog. If Xie Lian could see Hua Cheng right now and he still wouldn't know if it was the real one.

The fog is dangerous, creating illusions of people Xie Lian already knows or things from his past, trying to trick him. He's only more lost and he doesn't know how to get out of this mess. It's actually very stressful, how does the fog know all these things, how is it forming the people he used to know and love?

Hua Cheng is in the same predicament. He wanders around the fog and at one point he thought he found Xie Lian again but when his hand wrapped around Xie Lian's arm, the figure turned in vapor. They're both lost. They're both being surrounded by crowds of foggy figures.

Just before the foggy figures are able to touch them the fog disperses though. A loud screech Is heard in the air, a sudden cold breeze blowing past Xie Lian and Hua Cheng, then the fog settles down. It turns out they weren't that far from each other at all and Xie Lian has never run into Hua Cheng's arms faster.

When they both see a foggy figure again they get nervous. One, because the fog has dispersed so they thought they were safe now. Two, it looks like you. Xie Lian already hates the fog he's already seen awful things but he doesn't want to see you like this. Not the fake you.

He can't help but tear up when 'you' try to urge him to come forward, but with the fog gone so is the blocked energy. Xie Lian shoots rouye out, trying to make the awful sight go away by rouye wraps around a surprisingly very sturdy wrist. You grip on rouye and pull Xie Lian forward a little, uttering a small "Dianxia, Hong er"

They know it's you, even though it seems so unbelievable. Xie Lian is literally jumping on you and knocking you to the ground. Hua Cheng manages to act a little more suave but he'd be a liar to say he isn't astonished. It's just a big pile of tears, embraces, and "I love you's".

Xie Lian and Hua Cheng waste no time bringing you home, they cling on to you desperately. Even if you just want to explore Paradise Manor it doesn't matter, both of them are at your side. They absolutely refuse to let you go. As if they're scared, if they look away you'll vanish again. Xie Lian and Hua Cheng just won't let that happen! They love you very much and they've missed out many years of loving and caring for you. They plan to repay all the missed affections

____________________________________

Uhhhh here it is! I hope it's good 🤔 honestly I feel a little eh about this but let me know what y'all think 🖤I don't know if this is exactly what you were imagining anon but if it wasn't this make another submission in like deeper, exact details and I'll try again okay!

[letmedixonyou]

i'm not yours - part 9

summary: Daryl and you are friends. He dated Leah. You told him you loved him and things fell apart. Will it ever go back to normal?

Daryl keeps looking for the clues connecting anyone to your beating incident, and you try to fix his vinyl player while he's out of the house. When he comes back you have a sweet conversation and finally go back to being friends again.

words: 2.8k

warnings: swearing, mentions of killing (walkers and people)

A/N: Hello, muffins! Here I am with another part. I checked for mistakes 3 times, but it seems okay to me. Again, English is not my first language so the errors will probably occur to the English natives. I can also say already that there are going to be 15 parts to this, so we have 6 parts to go! <3

Daryl visited you and took care of you every single day for weeks. It almost felt like nothing had changed between you two; like everything was normal again. But was it really? Or was it just a façade that you two put up so you didn't have to deal with the unresolved issues? You tried not to think about it too much and just enjoyed the fact that Daryl was close again, even though he wasn't very chatty these days. Maybe he's still holding a grudge about your feelings for him, or maybe he just doesn't know how to return to being your friend again. He would bring you new books and some comics to read, so you wouldn't get bored, but boredom got you pretty fast after reading your third book in a week. You started missing movies right about then. You thought about your favourite TV shows and how your family would watch them all together after dinner. Now, all you can do is push through with your memories of it and an incredible imagination.

He would cook for you, usually something simple and quick that you could reheat if you wanted to, before vanishing for entire nights, trying to find out who had beaten you up. You had your suspicions, but you didn't tell him about it. Why? You were scared of what would happen. The information, or rather a clue, would make him go into a fight mode, for sure. You knew him well enough to admit that. So you kept your thoughts to yourself.

That didn't stop him from continuously asking you about the details or anything you remembered from the fight. No matter how many times you told him that it was dark and you didn't see or hear them, as they did not speak, just occasionally grunted while driving their feet into your body. He kept asking and trying to make sense of who would want to do this to you. Your tongue itched with an answer. For you, it was obvious.

You were glad that he was clueless like this. Maybe he just didn't want to believe it or found it hard to create that type of scenario in his head. Maybe it was too much for him to handle right about now. You didn't blame him, he had a lot on his plate as of late - his best friend fell in love with him, his girlfriend broke up with him because of the best friend, and he has chores and duties in Alexandria that he has to do, even if he is tired and doesn't want to, and now he turned into a detective, trying to solve a case - all of it probably making a huge mess in his brain.

You busy yourself with some reading once again, but it was starting to get excruciatingly boring. How many times can you read the same plot in multiple books? Putting it down on the sofa armrest, you suddenly remembered that you still had Daryl's vinyl player that needed to be fixed. That would be a good distraction, you thought and slowly pushed yourself up. The pain was less prominent now, so you could move a little bit better, although Daryl would scold you for even trying. It didn't matter how many times you said you felt fine and walking and moving around didn't hurt much anymore, he dragged you back to the sofa every single time. This time, he wasn't here, so you could freely roam around for a while.

You step into your bedroom and open your wardrobe. Reaching up onto the shelf, you pull the vinyl down, alongside many different tiny parts in a white cloth bag. You also pick up your screwdrivers, glue and anything else you'd need before attempting repair. Once you got everything you needed, you took it to the living room and put it on top of the coffee table. Leaning down, just enough to not feel pain in your ribs, you examined the vinyl player. You were a good tinkerer and you had a good understanding of electronic shit, although the player was old which required some knowledge about old electronics. You didn't have that, but you decided to try anyway.

After hours of fiddling and fidgeting, glueing and trying to pull tiny bits apart and put them back together again, you sigh deeply realising that making that playing vinyl records on this thing is going to need more than just a couple hours of repair. You most definitely will need some help from Eugene, as he is the only person with enough knowledge about this stuff.

After another hour of carefully glueing the tiny, broken bits to the exterior of the machine, you feel drowsy and you close your eyes for a minute, just to rest them. Before you realise it, you start quietly snoring, a screwdriver loosely in your hand. Your mind is blank for the first time since the incident. You feel like you can fully enjoy some sleep. Using your brain for more than reading books was a good idea, after all.

Daryl's head started to hurt about two hours ago when he checked the path you were beaten up on for the bazillion times. He was trying so hard to find out who attacked his best friend that the rage of not knowing was slowly sipping out through his veins. He could've sworn there was a red, hot, bright aura around him.

He went to the place where she was beaten up, thinking that he would get some good clues - maybe a blood trail or some footprints, or maybe a goddamn piece of fabric that was tugged off of the aggressor's clothes, but whoever did this was smarter than that and cleared everything within a couple of miles radius, making sure that there was no way to track them. He felt impressed at how meticulously they'd worked to cover the tracks, but most of all he felt helpless and angry.

It's been weeks since he started looking and Y/N wasn't much help. She kept saying it was too dark to see and she didn't catch a glimpse of any of the people. It didn't help that they hadn't spoken during the fight either, because maybe if they did, Daryl could've track them by the tone of their voice, questioning everyone in Alexandria one by one. But since there were no clues, he had a hard time finding anything. It bothered him to the point he kicked and punched an innocent tree a couple of times.

He finally decided that it was time to go back and check on his best friend. He wasn't going to find anything anyway, so he may as well use his time to help her recover and get on their feet again. Frankly, helping her recover helped him relax, even after the hardest of days. He didn't speak much around her, his mind still recalling the fact that she was indeed in love with him, but he tried to move past it as best as he could. Nothing was more important than her getting better right now.

Besides catching the people who did this to her, and potentially beheading them.

When he opens the doors, the sound of her snoring comes to his ears and he can't help but huff a half laugh at it. He remembers the countless times they went on supply runs and her snoring attracted walkers to their location. He never told her about it, he just took care of the walkers silently.

He takes his crossbow off his back and leans it against the wall before walking into the living room. He stops in his tracks for a second when he sees what lies on the coffee table in front of her.

The vinyl player.

The same one that ended up being chucked out of the window by Leah when they had a fight a few weeks ago.

His brow furrows as he steps closer to the table. He realises that she must've been present when he and Leah had a fight. Has she heard them? What exactly did she hear? How did she end up at his house that evening? How did she get the vinyl player and why would she take it?

He looks at her, asleep with a screwdriver in her hand. She looks peaceful. The bruises on her face faded a little, changing colour from purple and reds to blues and greens. The cut on her lip was healing nicely, a scab was drying out. Her hair looked messy, brought up in some sort of ponytail, where many different strands were sticking out from the sides of her head.

He looks at the vinyl player again and takes another step closer. He wasn't paying attention to where he was stepping, in his confused and surprised state, and his boot kicks the coffee table, making one of the tools roll off and fall to the floor with a clash.

It wakes her up with a jump, and she rubs your eyes a little, trying to make her vision less blurry.

"Daryl?" her voice sounds groggy and faint.

"How did you get my vinyl player?" Daryl asks with no hesitation, the urgency in his voice is enough to make her come to her senses.

She looks at the coffee table and her eyes widen a little, like she was surprised to see the vinyl player too. But no, it wasn't surprise, it was... embarrassment. Like she got caught doing something she shouldn't. She keeps looking at the vinyl player and he can see her cheeks flush and uncertainty flashing across her face. She was definitely feeling the need to escape from the situation, but she knew there was no escape. All she could do was face it.

"I...I found it on the ground," her voice is quiet. When she looks at him, he knows the answer to the questions yet to come, but felt like he must ask them.

"Found it on the ground?"

"Yes."

"Where exactly did you find it?"

"Outside your house," she says, avoiding his gaze. Her cheeks burn a deeper shade of red.

"When?"

"If you are asking me if I've heard you and Leah fighting, then yes. I have," she says; a sigh escapes her lips.

The silence was deafening for good couple of minutes. Daryl decided to take a seat next to her, staring at the vinyl player. She stayed quiet, looking at it as well. He was trying to figure out how to ask more questions; how to prod about what she's heard... what she knew. His hand reaches towards the platter, dragging his fingers on top of it, feeling the cracks.

"I haven't heard much," she finally breaks the silence and he looks at her. "I left pretty much straight away."

"But you've heard something," he says slowly.

"Yeah," she licks her dry lips. "Is it worth getting into it?"

He thinks about her question. Is it? Is it worth it? Does he really need to know what she heard? It wasn't that important, Leah and him are over now. But part of his brain believed it was crucial to know. He needed that information, needed to know how much she knows...

"Yeah," he says slowly. "I want to know."

"Well, I've heard her screaming about me..." she starts carefully, biting the inside of her cheek. "Something about me knowing more than her."

Daryl looks at her for a second, maybe trying to gauge her reaction to it, or maybe he was trying to focus on anything else than Leah's words echoing through his mind. He knew that she indeed knew more than Leah, more than anyone ever. He felt the most comfortable sharing with her. He remembers all the times he opened up and it felt great to be heard and listened to, probably the first time in his entire life. Somehow, he knew she was the right person to tell things. Trustworthy.

Back at the CDC, when he first opened his mouth to share, he was nervous. What if she judged? But all of this melted away when she sat there, listening, nodding, not asking questions, just soaking the information in. Maybe it was the alcohol in his veins, but it made him want to open up even more, get the stuff off his chest. Once he finished, it felt... cathartic. Like he was lighter.

He looks up to her eyes.

"I also heard her saying that... you're not worth it," she added and looked away. He could sense her anger in the words spoken, spitting them out like they were acid on her tongue.

"Mm," he murmured quietly, looking away from her and at his boots. He doesn't get embarrassed very easily, and yet his cheeks seemed to burn a little.

Again, the silence resounded in the house, you could almost hear the buzzing of electricity from one of the lamps. Daryl couldn't look up. Leah's words seemed to be burned into his mind, slowly making him believe he is not worth anything. He started to believe he doesn't deserve good things in life.

"It's not true. Leah was wrong," she says, putting her hand on his knee and squeezing it tightly.

"And you say that as a person who's in love with me?"

"I'm saying it as your best friend," her words hit him like a tone of bricks and he finally looks up at her, eyebrow raised. "You are worth so much."

Daryl wants to believe her. No, he needs to believe her. For his sake, for the sake of his mental stability. He takes a few deep breaths and and then looks down at her hand on his knee. His hand gently places over hers and he squeezes it lightly. Her reassurance was everything. You could say the only opinion he cared about these days was her, even though they haven't been great friends for awhile.

He beats himself up for not reaching out sooner. He hated he fact he's lost her for so long, and lost himself in the process. She loves him. Yes, it is more than a friend, but ultimately, she loves him. For who he is. She never judged, never tried to change him or push him to do things he didn't enjoy. She's one person he always felt comfortable with. He still does, even after she told him she loved him.

He thinks back to the time and thinks about why he was so angry at her for that. She wasn't making moves at him. She just... shared her feelings. Angrily - that was an understatement - but still. He sort of understood why she'd blow up the way she did. He spoke about Leah quite a lot and thinking about it now, it may have been to convince himself and her that he was happy with her and he did love her. Part of him did love Leah. But maybe it wasn't as strong feeling as he thought it was...

"You okay?"

Her voice brings Daryl back. He huffs and nods lightly.

"Yeah. I will be," he says and his lips curve into a smile.

"I mean it, Daryl. You're worth it. And I hope you do find someone who appreciates you," her little smile makes him scoff.

"Someone like you?" he retorts.

"No," she shakes her head vigorously. "Not me. You made it clear it's never going to happen and I accept it. But I hope you find someone who can make you believe you are worth everything and more."

Daryl looks at her with a grimace on his face. He did say that, didn't he? He said that her and him will never going to happen. For some reason, her words made him feel sad, just for a second. He wouldn't have been able to register it if he wasn't focusing on it that much. He shakes his head.

"I've sworn off love and relationships," he leans back on the couch and put his head on the sofa back. "It's just going to be me, my crossbow and my best friend."

"Your best friend?"

Her smile beams from ear to ear and Daryl can't help but notice the shine in her eyes when he said it. Like she wasn't sure if he was serious about it. Like she waited months for him to come back, to finally be her friend again.

"Of course. Can't live my sorry ass life without ya," he sighs. "Who else am I going to tease and laugh at?"

"You mean laugh with?"

"That too."

She giggles and he realises how much he really missed her all these months. He missed her laugh and their banter. The way he felt so free around her. The way he knew she could tell him she killed someone and he would help her cover up the tracks. She was his best friend. And going back to being friends with her felt good.

[mayullla]

Title: Princess rescued by the hero

Character(s): Hero (Named character/original work)

Summary: A Hero arrived to save you yet you could not help but fear him more than the villain.

Tags/Warnings: Princess!reader, male!yandere, general yandere themes, implied manipulation, drabble: 680 words

It was a classic tale of a princess, a hero, and a villain. The princess was taken away from her home and family by the villain, only to be trapped within an old and dusty castle, and later saved by a hero.

You thought that they were just stories, nothing more.

Your captor was a man who knew how to use both dark magic and the sword. His subordinates were monsters and shadows that he created to rule over the kingdoms and nations. You wondered what you had done to catch the eyes of such a man, but in the end, there was always a hero.

Someone who would save you from the grasp of the wicked man…

"Thank you for saving me." It was hard for you to breathe as you stood in front of the ruined halls of the old castle and stared at the hero's face. The man who saved you placed a hand on his chest as he got down on one knee along with his team. You couldn't see his face as he looked down, bowing at you in a respectful manner. "You are now safe, princess."

Maybe it was best that you didn't see his face, you thought to yourself as you looked at the hero and his group.

You were still conscious of what happened in the fight. Your hands shivered at the thought when the dark lord turned into a dragon to kill the hero’s group, only to die at the hands of the hero who stabbed his sword into the monster’s chest.

You looked to your side to see the dead dark lord who took you away from your home, or what was left of him. He had turned into nothing but a burnt corpse consumed by the flames that he made.

The fight was still fresh in your mind, the spells that were cast on both sides from the dark lord himself and a wizard from the hero's group. Arrows flew at both sides in such a small space, and the crashes of swords still rang in your ears.

"What is your name? I need to know the hero who saved me." You spoke, holding on to whatever little pride you had. Holding yourself back from stuttering after everything you have gone through till now.

"My name is Vale," he said, his head still down. You didn't want to see his face. You were grateful truly that you were saved, and able to return home, but you could not help but become suspicious of the hero.

The hero who saved you was someone you feared.

"Thank you, Sir Vale, for killing the dark lord and saving me from him," you said as you lowered yourself down to take the man's hand, telling him to stand up and asking him if he was okay. “I will not forget you and your group's sacrifices.”

You didn't have any pity for the dark lord, for he was the one who destroyed homes and killed many. You weren't sympathetic to his death. But the moment when the hero stabbed the dark lord in the chest, the determined look on his face held something else.

You avoided the hero's eyes. Avoided looking at the blood splatter on his clothes. You could not help but wonder if there was something that you didn't know here. His eyes held a certain kind of insanity within them. The overconfidence of knowing that he would win as if this whole scenario was staged from the start.

A stage that was to reach a goal.

And you knew that this had something to do with you. When your eyes met his, you were sure of it as he held your hand tightly, warning but also clinging. The love in his eyes was crazed as he looked at you with so much passion. You were familiar with those eyes of his even before he became a hero, and tried to avoid him. Was he the one who created this stage, you wondered by yourself.

You were a fool, as you have placed yourself right on his hand.

[ashwhowrites]

Eddie Munson x cheerleader! Harrington! Reader, they're in a secret relationship, one time Steve was coming home from work at night, and he saw Eddie sneaking through Reader's window and he gets scared and he enters running to his house and grabs his hair spray, and goes to reader's room to scare Eddie bec why is he in his house, but he finds Eddie and Reader making out, and he's like GROSS

A very short blurb. Hopefully it gives you a few giggles. I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting <3

Hairspray

Y/N kept her relationship with Eddie a secret from everyone because she knew her parents wouldn't allow it. And she didn't want the drama of someone spilling her secret, so not a single person knew. Not even her brother.

Eddie didn't mind, of course, he saw the sneaking around as hot and thrilling. He loved sneaking into her house, making out under the covers, and the rush of hiding in her closet when someone came in. He enjoyed being a dirty little secret.

Steve got home later than he meant to. But Dustin demanded to sit through all the credits. He felt bad for leaving Y/N alone for so long. Not that she cared, she was in that teenage stage where she stayed in her room and didn't come out.

Steve locked his car as he walked to the front door. The motion of someone in Y/N's window caused him to panic. He looked and noticed it was Eddie Munson. Why would Eddie Munson be sneaking into his sister's window?

Steve's mind went to the worst, figuring Eddie must have thought no one was around and planning to rob their house. Steve always yelled at Y/N for leaving her window open.

He quickly ran into the house, zoning in on the bathroom to grab a can of his hair spray. He threw the cap somewhere in the room and raced up the stairs.

"Y/N!" he screamed, he pushed open her door. He expected to see her room a mess, Eddie digging through her jewelry for what to steal. In the flash of the moment all he saw was Eddie on top of her. He didn't take in the details, immediately spraying them with hairspray. Eddie screamed as his skin and hair were coated in sticky spray. He moved off Y/N quickly, but Steve kept spraying.

His brain wasn't catching up to the situation fast enough. Eddie tried to smack the can out of Steve's hand, but all that did was cause the spray to hit Eddie's eyes. Eddie screamed in pain as he fell to his knees.

"STEVE!" Y/N yelled everything was happening so fast. She barely heard Steve come in, and now he had her boyfriend covered in hairspray.

Steve snapped out of his fright, a scenario he created in his head.

"SHIT MAN!" Steve apologized, but then it dawned on him, that Eddie was making out with his sister.

Y/N raced to Eddie's side, trying to help him open his eyes.

"ARE YOU CRAZY? WHAT IF YOU BLINDED HIM?" Y/N panicked. She cradled his face as he blinked his eyes rapidly.

"WHY WERE YOU GUYS MAKING OUT?" Steve asked, disgust clear in his voice.

Y/N ignored his question, going to the bathroom to get a wet towel. Steve kept his eyes on Eddie, slightly feeling bad for the pain he caused, but now a little happy. He couldn't believe his cheerleader sister was messing around with Eddie Munson.

Y/N rushed back in and gave Eddie the towel. He dabbed his eyes and winced at the burn.

"Did you seriously spray me with hairspray?" Eddie asked, finally able to pry one of his eyes open. He could see his girlfriend's scared look as she kept the towel near his eye and the disgusted look on Steve's face.

"Were you seriously making out with my sister?" Steve scoffed.

"Yeah until someone attacked us WITH HAIRSPRAY!" Eddie yelled

Tags!

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @manyfandomsfanvergentreblogs @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37

[parachutingkitten]

Just so everyone is aware, ayathefly, the account who claims to be a temp voice actress for Dragons Rising, is almost certainly my cyber stalker from last month.

She has almost the exact same story as one of the stalker accounts used to try and befriend me. Back then she was a 23yo temp voice actress named Maya who had a comedically whimsical story about her not knowing information about the ducktales reboot she was hired for. This time she's a 23yo temp voice actress named Aya who has a comedically whimsical story about not knowing information about the Ninjago reboot she was hired for. Both the accounts used generic profile pics from classic cartoons, reblogged posts of mine shortly after creating their account, and had this manner of speaking in their posts which immediately set off alarm bells in my head.

In case you are not privy to the saga, this person made a bunch of false accusations about me on one account while defending me on another in order to, I guess, try and win my favor. This after harassing, threatening, and otherwise pestering me on a number of spam accounts. This includes the full range of pretending to be a fan with a tragic story about a dead brother, to weird sex foot fetish fantasies. Since then I have received emails claiming to be showrunners interested in my feedback which I'm also certain are her.

I have also linked them back to the zanenindroid account, and the parachutingkitfanpage, both abandoned at this point, presumably because they didn't get traction.

I need you to understand I was on the fence about sharing this information. Even if they're making my life annoying, this person has at times claimed to be 16 in messages to me in the past (I figure it's possible that the 23yo thing might just be her pretending to be my same age) and I don't want to be the guy who calls out a kid who lied on the internet to try and get friends- even if what they're doing is ABSOLUTELY inexcusable, it's only really affecting me. I know how to use the block button. Turning off non-follow messaging and anon asks is annoying, but not that huge a deal if it means cutting off avenues for them to contact me.

But recently my MOTHER informed me that she got some strange messages from someone claiming to be a 23yo voice actress, and tried gaslighting her into believing she knew her mom from a writing group like 10 years ago (which is not possible btw), and should TOTALY introduce her to me, because we're the same age, and both interested in animation.

I can't not talk about this anymore. When you bring my family into this, you lose any attempt at mercy from me.

Especially given we have quite a few minors in the fandom, I feel obligated to say something. I would not feel comfortable with anyone I know or care about interacting with this person, regardless of how harmless this person thinks their intentions are. They have proved themselves to be a manipulative, lying, unhinged, and obsessive personality willing to put someone they presumably like through some of the scariest scenarios you can find yourself in on the internet- and then drag your family into it. I would ask that you do not interact, do not give them the time of day, do not try to reason with them, and try your best not to be fooled by new accounts that pop up a week from now with suspiciously similar behavior, because I'm almost certain that will happen if Aya goes silent.

Maybe you think I'm paranoid, and over blowing things, and that's your call to make, but I would not be making this post if I did not feel strongly about this.

Even if somehow this is not the same person, and I am falsely linking these two nearly identical identities, at the very least Aya is not who she proports to be. She claims to have provided temp voices for season 3 just this month (temp voices being temporary voice work done before the actual actors are able to record their lines), but Devon Mack (voice actor for Arin) has confirmed that he was in the middle of recording the official dialogue for season 3 back in January of this year. The idea that the production team would only just now be recording TEMP dialogue for animation that's going to release in just a few months is an absolutely WILD claim. I can not convey to you what an insanely truncated timeline that would be. I don't even think that Dragons Rising is a the kind of show to use temp dialogue, none the less have the budget and time to hire out if they did need temp voices, rather than just using production members like most temp work.

Please, be careful out there everyone.

I'm praying I never have to address this again.

[cheesagirl]

Please can you make something like gojo slept with his things inside his s/o and then morning she woke up shocked.

Satoru x Fem;Reader

Scenario: listed

Warnings: NSFW, ⚠️CNC⚠️ (Cnc means 'consensual non-consent, if you are not comfortable with that sort of idea please scroll away!!!!!!!)

Word count: 689

Side notes: Hope you enjoyyyy!! If you have nay requests please send them!! Be specific❤️

You and Satoru were a... vigorous couple, to say the least. You guys followed a routine, like anyone else.

Satoru would come home after another long day, and you would be there waiting for him, like the sweet doting wife you were. After an hour of chatting about your days, you would usually give Satoru a head massage which eventually led to you getting your insides completely rearranged while he whispered the most lewd things he could possibly think of in your ear.

Today was different. You had plans to visit some family, and wouldn't be able to make it home in time to greet Satoru when he came home. You also wouldn't be there to chat about your day, give him head rubs, or let him fuck you senseless into bed and to say Satoru was heartbroken would be an understatement.

By the time you had arrived home, you slipped into your nightgown and made yourself comfortable under the comforter, your eyes already growing heavy.

"How was seeing everyone sweets?" He asked, slipping under the blanket with you, seeking your body's warmth.

"It was good" I say, smiling as I felt his arms snake around my waist and his nose tickle my neck. "All that social interaction made me want to sleep for the next 5 days though" I say jokingly, letting my eyes drift closed and my body slump said against his.

Satoru was really trying to be a good person. He knew you didn't owe him sex every single day, and he wanted to respect that. He could live without sex for one night.

2:55 am.

Satoru Gojo apparently could not live without sex for one night. He hadn't gotten an ounce of sleep and the feeling of your body pressing against his was starting to become unbearable. His eyes stared at the way that cute little pink nightgown clung to your curves so perfectly, and before he knew it, he was slowly grinding himself into your ass, seeking some sort of relief.

It just wasn't enough, Satoru needed to feel your walls milk him, he needed to hear the sound of skin slapping together.

"Y/n, sweetheart" he mumbles against your ear, causing you to stir in your sleep, a whine escaping your parted lips.

He sighs, nuzzling his head into your neck, panting slightly. His hand moves to the silky fabric resting on your thigh, and he slowly pushes it up to your tits.

His breath hitches at the sight before him. "Still wet for me, even in your sleep huh" he clicks his tongue, running his finger along your slit, before slowly pushing it into you, causing you to squirm.

"Just the tip baby" he mutters, removing his finger before pushing his boxers down, guiding himself towards your entrance. He lets out a guttural groan as your juices coat his shaft, and he's even more delighted at the popping sound created by him pushing his tip inside.

"Just the tip" he repeats to himself, squeezing his eyes closed as he relishes the sensation of you wrapped so snuggly around him.

"Just a little more" he hissed, pushing himself deeper into you, and before he knew it, he was bottoming you out while peppering kisses along your neck. His dick twitched at every little whine and moan you let out in your sleep, but he eventually found himself growing more and more tired, the intimate position serving as a source of comfort for him.

7:00 am

You woke up to feel a knot in your belly, but after a few seconds of squirming, you realized that you were feeling Satoru's dick buried inside of you.

"Good morning sweets" You hear him mumble, his head buried in your hair.

"Got a little carried away last night?" I asked with widened eyes, slightly amused at the situation occurring.

"I needed to feel you baby" He pouts, a groan escaping him as I pushed myself against him, allowing him to move deeper.

"And she needed me," he adds, referencing to your drooling and achey pussy.

"Always does" you mumble, a smile playing at your lips.

-ˋˏ✄--------------------------------

Thanks for reading gorgeous!!

[moon-alight]

Hi I'm a really big fan of &team can write

When you lock bathroom door and cry after an argument

Hello! Of course, I can. (BTW, all my inbox asks are deleted. The only ones I still have is this one and another one that was made like 5 hours ago. I don't know what happened. Please ask me again if you have more things for me to write <3)

Masterlist

&Team reaction to you locking yourself up after an argument.

Warnings: angst, fluff, arguments, some cussing

Word Count: 762

-K

-He understood that you needed space but when he heard the lock on the bathroom, he got worried.

-Didn't want the argument into what it ended up being but lets be honest, you're both stubborn hot-heads. It was bound to happen.

-Feels insanely guilty after he hears soft sobs (even though you tried to hide it)

-Knocks softly on the door and rests his forehead against the wood as his heart breaks inside his chest.

-"I'm so sorry, baby. Please, open up. Please, let me hold you."

-Feels so guilty and just wants this all to end to be honest.

-Fuma

-It wasn't supposed to happen but you were both blind to the others statement so he lifted his voice a little and saw tears appear in your eyes.

-When you locked yourself up, he realized his mistake and closed his eyes as he stood alone in the living room.

-Fights with himself on what to do because on one hand he wants to give you space but at the same time, he wants to hold you close and assure you he loves you.

-Walks towards the door and thinks he's Anna so he knocks and asks you to open the door. When you don't, he sees this as you want to be alone so he leaves.

-Comes back two minutes later because he loves you and knocks again.

-Nicholas

-I also see him as a hot-headed person so beware.

-He just desperately wanted to win the argument that he forgot to listen to your side and messed but by creating a bigger problem than necessary.

-The moment he hears the lock, he calms down internally and stares at the door.

-Tries to open the door anyway but realized you actually locked yourself in.

-Apologizes as if his life depended on it because for the first time that evening he understands your point of view.

-Will be so happy and relieved when you unlock the door.

-EJ

-You had been arguing to the point where neither of you really knew what it was about anymore.

-When he hears a door shut he doesn't think much of it but when you haven't returned after like 10 minutes he panics.

-Goes to the door to hear your soft sobs and panics even more so he tries to open the door but it is locked.

-A sudden fear of you leaving because he went too far washes over him and he feels his heart almost combust from stress.

-Whispers to you from his side of the door about how you two can fix this small problem and how sorry he is.

-Has an existencial crisis but calms down immediately when you let him inside.

-Yuma

-Hothead number #3!

-Absolutely scoffs when you lock yourself inside your bedroom and waits for you to come out but you don't and he frowns.

-He hears your sobs and immediately feels guilty for how harsh he had been during the argument.

-Immediately calls EJ to ask what he's supposed to do because he is clueless.

-EJ scolds him for being an idiot before he gives advice on what to do.

-Yuma knocks softly on the door and apologizes to you for everything before you open the door and he tackles you in a hug.

-Holds you close and kisses your temple while he keeps apologizing.

-Jo

-Sorry but I cannot imagine a scenario where he would make you cry.

-If anything he would be the one locking himself up and sobbing.

-Harua (I'm sorry I forgot him! SO SORRY!)

-The moment he realized the hurtful words he had said in a fit of anger, he looks down in shame.

-When you lock yourself up, he becomes Anna from Frozen and stands in front of the bathroom door while knocking desperately.

-"Y/N?" He would call out to you and knock a couple more times. When you refuse to open the door, he turns his back against it and slides down until he sits on the ground.

-Tortures himself by listening to your sobs and soft cries from inside.

-Is ready to pick all the stars out of the nightsky to give them to you because he just desperately wants to apologize.

-Taki

-Absolutely the one to blame himself and scold himself for hurting you to the point of you locking yourself up.

-Will leave you alone for a while and wait for you to open the door before apologizing continuesly for being stubborn.

-Won't leave you alone afterwards and has his arms around you the whole time.

-Continues to apologize every few minutes just to make sure if you're still mad or not.

-Kisses your temple and cheek like twenty times. I love him.

-Maki

-Has a hard time understanding why you'd lock yourself up because he genuinly thought the argument was just brief.

-Realizes he might've raised his voice unknowingly and now feels bad about the whole argument. (I swear he wouldn't raise his voice on purpose)

-Knows when you need space and leaves you alone for a while before knocking on your door and talking to you softly.

-Apologizes for the whole fight and asks if he can at least hold you.

-When you open the door, he is so gentle and sweet with you. <3

[episims]

Foxfire ROS

After playing Foxfire for 9 rounds I've started to feel like I could use something to nudge me out of my routines a bit! For the next round, I'm going to try how adding random scenarios to the mix feels like 😁

I didn't find any existing scenario lists to be exactly what I wanted: more gameplay prompts that leave room for interpretation, and not so many strict rules or tasks or forced drama (my sims create enough of that as it is lol).

So I cherry-picked some scenarios that I liked, edited others, and created many new ones. A shout-out to @kayleigh-83 for this list that was a great starting point!

Night out: Visit a community lot after dark.

Bring your own basket: Visit a park with family or friends.

Movie marathon: Invite friends over for movies and snacks, or go on a movie binge by yourself.

Family matters: Invite over a relative or someone you share a similar bond with.

Fits like a glove: Wear a new accessory.

Games night: Set up a board game or fire up a console for an evening. PC owners can throw a lan party.

Burn off steam: Devote a day to exercising in any form.

Playing hooky: A child or teen skips one school day.

Online friends: Spend an evening chatting over the internet.

Fence-mending: Talk to a walkby you don't know or have a low relationship with.

Fertile ground: Get a new plant to your garden or other outdoor area.

Pulling strings: Use influence to your advantage.

Tired of cooking: Order delivery for a meal.

Peculiar flavor: The sim with the least cooking points takes the cooking turn.

Sprucing up: Choose a room or space and give it a facelift.

Touch base: Call the friend you currently have the lowest relationship score with.

Dine out: Eat at a restaurant.

New hobby: Try out a hobby you haven't explored before.

Broken record: Talk about your favorite hobby to every sim you encounter during one day.

Slumber party: Invite friends for a sleepover.

Power outage: Turn off all the lights except for candles and only make uncooked meals for a day.

Cloud over a head: Argue with every sim you encounter during one day.

Old gang: Meet up with the friends you have known for the longest.

Turn up the heat: Woohoo in public.

New ink: Get a tattoo.

Fresh air: Spend a day outdoors.

Homebody: Spend a day indoors.

Got the moves: Visit a community lot to hit the dance floor or turn on a stereo at home and dance until you run out of energy.

Make the bed: Change sheets for all beds on the lot.

Health concerns: Visit or call over a doctor.

All things are transient: Sell three objects.

Odd bottle: Consume a potion from your inventory.

Dig it: Spend a day treasure hunting.

Capture it: Take a picture and hang it on the wall.

Running on fumes: Have a cup of coffee once every few hours.

Reaching enlightenment: Meditate for a day.

Sugar rush: Prepare only desserts for a day.

Clocking extra time: Spend an evening on a computer either blogging, writing, or giving financial advice.

Dressed to the nines: Go on a date in formalwear.

Pretty lights: The outdoor areas of the lot are filled with fireflies for the round.

School assignment: A child or teen collects bugs for the round.

Stealing the show: Perform with an instrument or a microphone, freestyle for tips, or breakdance in public.

Devil on a shoulder: Prank every sim you encounter during one day.

Turning the page: Negative relationship effects are reduced for 48 hours and any existing fury states are cleared (get the 'forgiving' vacation benefit).

Meeting deadlines: Job performance is increased for 48 hours (get the 'industrious' vacation benefit).

Hot stuff: The attractiveness is increased for 48 hours (get the 'je ne sais quoi' vacation benefit).

On the ball: Skill, talent badge, and homework rates are increased for 48 hours (get the 'refreshed' vacation benefit).

Scatterbrained: Skill, talent badge, and homework rates are decreased for 48 hours (get the 'jetlagged' vacation penalty).

Bonfire night: Light up a bonfire with family or with friends.

Explosive entertainment: Throw a party with fireworks.

By example: Share hobby tips or instruct someone in a hobby, or find a sim who can share tips or instruct you in one.

Score points: Visit a community lot to play arcade games, poker, don't wake the llama, mahjong, or myshuno.

Self-care: Skilling is forbidden for a day. Instead, practice recovering activities like taking bubble baths, enjoying hot tubs or hot springs, getting massages, relaxing in saunas, or sunbathing.

Feeling chipper: Compliment every sim you encounter during one day.

I'll probably add these whenever I come up with new ones. Scenario ideas are welcome!

[anon-sect]

Picture source: annoyomous

Story request for @jaysox80

Jake was a regular at the gym every week at least four days out of the week. He never really paid much attention to the other gym goers until one day. He kept noticing one guy that kept looking his direction. When he would look back, the guy would quickly turn away to look another direction. It really didn't bother him much at first. Then it started to get more annoying. It was like every time he was at the gym, so was the guy. He would do the same annoying stare every time. He thought about going to a different gym, but he refused to do that just because of one person.

Things finally came to a head when he found the guy had followed him directly into the locker room. "What's up with you, dude." Jake finally questioned him, wondering what was wrong with him.

"I find you attractive, but was really shy to come speak to you." The guy spoke to Jake, still nervous.

"You could have come up to me, I don't bite. What's your name?" Jake asked back, trying to make the situation less awkward than it already was. "Name is Riley." The guy responded back. "Well, Riley, I am Jake. You have been annoying to me with constant staring." Jake decided to address the issue.

Riley wanted to make it up to him for creating an awkward situation. He honestly would do anything since he found Jake hot and attractive. "Is there anything I can do to make up for it?" He asked back.

Jake had an idea that would make up for it. He got his other phone, which was a TF phone. If the guy was so obsessed with him, he might as well give him an up close experience while getting some use out of him at the same time. "Just close your eyes for four seconds, and I will tell you how you can make up for it." He requested Riley. He watched as he closed his eyes and counted to four. With one quick flash, Riley vanished, and a pair of white socks were on the locker room floor where he once was. He picked up the socks. Just at the time, another person had walked into the locker room. Not wanting to look weird, he went and placed the socks in his gym bag as he was preparing to leave when Riley showed up in the empty locker room.

Once at his car, he pulled out his new socks. "You should thank your obsession for me, now you really get to know me personally, or at least my feet." Jake laughed as he pulled off his shoes and socks. And then put on his new socks. They felt good on his sweaty feet. He then put his shoe back on for the drive home.

Riley thought the guy was hot till he found himself literally wrapped around his feet against his will. He wanted to make up for his shyness, but not like this. He could taste the salty musk of his feet. To make his torture worse, the shoe he was imprisoned in smelled horribly of foot sweat. Even the insoles that he was pressed up against was saturated with the disgusting odor. He mentally begged for Jake to let him go, but seeing all that begging was futile. The guy couldn't hear a single thought coming from him.

Once Jake was fully settled in at home, he took off his socks. A thought came to mind. The guy was really obsessed with him to stalk him every time he went to the gym. He thought he might give him a special reward. He pulled out his cock and placed one sock over it. He began to stroke his cock, thinking about how much his feet might have tortured him on the drive home and with him just walking around in this place. Those thoughts made him horny.

Jake reach his peak and released hot cum into the sock. He thought it was so hot doing so. The sense of power he just exerted on the guy. After removing the sock, he used the other sock to further clean himself off. He began to wonder what he should do with the socks now. The awkward situation that was created was rectified.

Riley was open to a new experience as Jake jerked off in him. He thought he should have been upset over the whole scenario, but feeling that hot cum changed his mind. Maybe being socks might not be too bad. He suddenly found himself human again in Jake's place. "That was fun, being my socks, but I will let you go now." He heard Jake say. At first, he would have wanted that, but now he didn't. He wanted to be close to Jake in that way. "Please, I want to stay your socks." He pleaded to him on his knees.

Jake was surprised. He thought the guy would jump at the fact that he was being released. He was also confused. Had his feet warped his mind in that brief time? He just had to know. "Why would you want that?" He paused so that he could let Riley know just exactly what he is asking for. "Being my socks forever would mean my feet own you. I might even jerk off in you again. You will get all sweaty and smell like my feet. You sure that's what you want?" He asked to clarify his choice.

"YES, I WANT IT." Riley let him know with excitement. He knew that existence would be hard on his mind, but at least this way he could stay with Jake forever and serve a purpose. He saw him point a phone camera at him. There was a flash and he found himself flat on the floor once more. He was a pair of white socks again.

"If it's what you want, you will be my favorite pair of socks. I will wear you to the gym every time and probably almost every day. This will be my last time speaking to you. You are just socks now." Jake spoke to his new favorite pair of socks. This was the first time he had a willing victim. Riley was a comfortable pair of socks, he had to admit.

SIX MONTHS LATER.....

Jake sat in the park enjoying the sun. He took off his shoes to air out his socks. He was amazed at how long the guy had held up. Not a single hole in them even after six months. He had forgotten his name completely. All he remembered was the guy wanted to be his socks forever, and he granted his wish. It was a win-win for him, though. He managed to get rid of his stalker and gain a strong pair of socks at the same time. No complaints there. Even his socks weren't complaining. It's what it wanted. They both couldn't be much happier than this.