#but for now. twenty eight hours of my life wasted

[loveharlow]

SINEMIES

PAIRING‧₊˚  Rafe Cameron x Kook!Fem!Reader

SYNOPSIS‧₊˚  [2.8k] Returing to Kildare after years away, your mentality may have changed but you still have some old habits...

WARNING(S)‧₊˚  swearing, mild p*rn without plot but the plot was fun to write, smut

A/N‧₊˚ part of my angstober event!

˗ˏˋ rafe masterlist ˎˊ˗

A COMPACT MIRROR WAS HELD UP TO YOUR LIPS AS YOU TOUCHED UP YOUR LIPS, blotting them together before clamping the small object shut. You could feel the car finally come to a halt before the driver turned to face you.

“We’ve arrived, miss.” He announced, tone chipper and bright as always. You pulled a neatly folded one-hundred dollar bill from your bra and held it out to him, watching as he took the bill as humbly as possible.

“Thank you, Martin.” You thanked your personal driver, the man who had fathered you possibly more than your own, who was always gone on 'business'. Business being running around sleeping with women who were half his age and sipping Martini’s in a hot tub on a skyscraper rooftop 500 miles away. 

“My pleasure. You stay safe now.” He insisted, raising a brow as you offered a smile and reached for the handle. 

“Will do. Have a nice night.” You bid farewell as you swung the door of the sleek, black vehicle open, taking extra care to make sure your legs were never too far apart as you stepped out. The dress you picked out was just brushing what was considered ‘business casual’. You held your matching clutch close to your side and tried your best to ignore the way your heels made the arches of your feet ache. 

Wiggling your fingers at the man behind the wheel, you shut the door and watched as the car drove away. Turning your attention to the house you hadn’t seen in years and honestly hoped to never see again. The Cameron Residence was practically a historical landmark in Kildare. The house hadn’t aged in the years you’d been gone — walking out of it as a heartbroken eighteen year old girl and walking the path up to the door as a refined twenty-two year old woman. 

You could hear the low, classical music playing and the faint chatter of the guests inside. Shadows passing by as silhouettes in front of the curtains, the only lights that were on being on the first level of the home. 

You wasted no time, even in your careful observing, in taking strides towards the front door which would undoubtedly be unlocked, walking carefully as to not trip over your feet and make a fool of yourself. 

When your hand touched the doorknob, pushing open the only structure keeping you from the rest of the party, it was like stepping into a new reality. It was a reality you’d left behind in exchange for college campus life, which was more homey. More comforting and cozy, it kept you grounded. 

This reality was superficial, so superficial it nauseated you like never before. Art pieces on the white walls that cost way too much money and had no real meaning, sports trophies that were bought with wealth statuses and daddy’s money littered amongst coffee tables and mantelpieces. 

But you’d only have to suffer a couple hours and get what you came here for.

“You made it!” A voice beamed close to your ear, turning to see Sarah Cameron walking speedily in a pair of heels and a cream colored silk dress. Her arms were up as she made a b-line in your direction, a genuine smile falling across your face. You adored Sarah. She was probably one of the most genuine people who ever lived on Figure Eight. 

She embraced you tightly, swaying side to side as she did. “Oh, I missed you. We have so much to catch up on!” She gushed, releasing you from her grasp to grab a hold of your wrist instead. “Everyone’s in the backyard. C’mon, they’ve been waiting for you.” The ecstatic blonde girl gave you no time to greet her back or return her affections as she dragged you through the crowd of middle-aged business men and women. 

Stepping into the backyard where circular tables were set up with white tablecloths, candles placed perfectly in the middle of each one. It wasn’t long before your eyes landed on them all standing around one of the set ups. And it wasn’t long before they spotted you too, waving you and Sarah both over.

When you came to a stop in front of them as Sarah released your arm, you were pulled into another embrace by Ward himself. “Oh, honey, look at you!” He cooed, giving you a tight squeeze before pulling back and letting his hands rest on your shoulders. “You look beautiful. Where’s your father? Is he going to make it?”

You gave the man a pained smile. “Thank you, Mr.Cameron. No, he won’t. He’s in the city on ‘unofficial business’.” You spoke, spite evident in your voice. “You know how that goes.”

Ward gave you a comforting smile and squeezed your shoulder reassuringly before removing his hands. “Well, give him my best when you do see him.” With the conversation ending there, you turned your attention to the rest of the people surrounding the table. 

Rose perched under Ward’s arm, Wheezie leaned over the table with her elbows propped up on the surface while she fiddled with her phone, and Rafe. 

He stood directly across from you, hands in the pockets of his slacks as his eyes bored shamelessly into yours.

You stared back for a moment, narrowing your eyes. After a moment, you gave him a thin-lipped smile and small nod of your head in acknowledgement of his presence. “Hi, Rafe.”

“I didn’t think you’d be coming this year.” He spoke, voice deeper and more raspy than you remember. But you had to admit, he looked better. No longer strung out on drugs, mind racing all over the place. He looked tamed.

“Wouldn’t miss it.” You assured him. The tension was palpable and you’re sure the rest of the Cameron family could feel it as Rose and Ward dismissed themselves to greet guests while Sarah dragged Wheezie to go eat all the sample foods in the kitchen with her. 

You and Rafe had dated practically all throughout high school. It was good until it wasn't. Rafe made you fall in love with a version of him that didn't exist and when the mask slipped there was no putting it back on. The relationship became the bane of your existence at some point during it. It couldn't even be described as toxic. Vile is probably a better word.

Once it was just the two of you, Rafe rounded the table to stand next to you as a waiter came around to hand you each a glass of champagne. You sat your clutch on the table and sipped on the beverage as he stood silently next to you, both of you facing forwards watching the party go on around you.

“Are you going to say something?” You asked flatly, tracing the rim of your glass.

“Why are you here?”

“Was I not invited?”

“You only ever come because your father asks you to just so he and my father can talk about property and money. But your father isn’t here. So why are you?” He pointed out.

You chuckled smally to yourself, finally turning your head to look at him as he did the same. “If you think I’m here for you, don’t flatter yourself.” You poked, leaning your weight on the table. “I’m surprised Ward didn’t mention anything to you.”

His eyebrows pinched together. “Mention what?”

“I came here to talk to him. About his company.” You started, taking a short sip of your champagne before continuing. “I want it and if my offer is good enough, he’s going to sell it to me.”

You'd struck a nerve in him. Nostrils flaring, fists balled on the surface of the top as he tried to compose himself. He had never been good with managing his anger. It was good to see that some things never change.

“Why the fuck would my father sell our family business to you?” He spat. “It’s mine. He said it was mine.”

“Well, it seems daddy lied to you.” You shrugged, looking Rafe in the eyes. “Like father, like son.”

Rafe’s eyes were running wild, his cheeks a deep shade of red. He took a step closer to you, placing his lips next to your ear as he spoke. “You’re bluffing. You've always been a bad bluff so, just say you missed me so we can fuck and you can go home.”

“I didn’t travel over two-hundred miles for you, Rafe.” You shot back, voice at his level now. “You never fucked me good enough for that type of commitment.”

“That’s funny. Considering all the screaming you were doing the night before you left for your fancy little Ivy-League School.” 

“You mean the night you begged me to come over? Crying about how you needed me-” You were cut off when Rafe abruptly gripped your upper arm, swiftly dragging you through the huddles of guests, into the house, and into the first open bathroom. He practically used your arm to throw you into the vacant area, closing the door behind himself.

His hands were trailing your thighs and underneath your dress before you could speak, his face only inches from yours. You didn’t think you’d ever miss his touch. It was always so rushed and rough. But now it was deliberately gentle and borderline seductive. 

“I will never forget the easiest way to get you to shut up. You're still the same.”

You snarled at him, mumbling an insult under your breath.

You hadn’t taken notice of the way your hands balled up your dress at the sides in your annoyance, making it easier for his hands to maneuver its way to the front of your panties, pressing the lightest of pressure to your clit. 

Your words had died in your throat, all insults and jabs getting swallowed down as you eyed him up and down while your heart beat out of your chest. Your lips were parted with small breaths leaving your lips every few seconds, refusing to give him complete satisfaction. “This doesn’t change anything.”

A smirk edged on his face before his head dipped down, using his nose to tip your chin up to gain access to your neck. You put up minimal struggle — you knew this wasn’t what you planned to do once you got here. You were here to rub the deal in his face, not fuck him in the downstairs bathroom of his mansion. But that plan became increasingly harder to carry out while he was sucking and licking your neck in all the right places that made you bite down on your tongue to keep quiet while his fingers moved your panties to the side, making contact with your bundle of nerves. One of your own hands released your dress to grab the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer.

The tips of his calloused fingers gilded easily through your dripping folds. He sighed into your neck at the contact and you could feel him smile against your skin, his fingers tracing your core leisurely. “You don’t hate me nearly as much you think you do.”

His words made your blood boil and your legs go weak all at the same time. If he was going to fuck you, then he needed to do just that and shut up while he was at it.

Your free hand ran its up his clothed back, cupping the back of his neck as he resumed his assault on yours. You had to bite down on your lip to stop yourself from making noise that any guest within ten feet of the door would hear as he eagerly pushed two of his fingers inside of you. You were never the quietest.

Your grip on his neck grew tighter, nails digging into the skin as his thick fingers curled and pumped between your legs. You’d been with other guys since Rafe but he knew you too well, which gave him an advantage that you hated. “Oh, fuck…” You muttered when you could no longer hold your profanities in your chest.

Releasing the hand that remained on your dress, you grabbed his wrist in a desperate attempt to shove his digits deeper into your core. 

He must’ve taken this as a sign that you wanted much more than he was offering because it wasn’t long before his fingers went from carefully massaging your g-spot to ramming into you callously. Your mouth fell open, the hand grabbing his wrist now gripping his forearm, feeling the veins on his biceps through his shirt. 

His head retreated from your neck to crash his lips against yours. His kisses no longer tasted like coke how they used to —- chemical and bitter. The only thing you could taste was the fruity-sweet undertones of the expensive champagne. It made your heart clench in the slightest of ways, knowing that just maybe he wasn’t the same person he was when you left.

But you knew he also wasn’t someone you could ever be with.

You were just about to reach your climax when he pulled his fingers back, leaving you empty and clenching around nothing. You didn’t even have a second to complain before he was dropping you to the floor, feet landing on the hardwood floor just in time to catch yourself.

Rafe hiked up your dress above your hips, pulling your panties down like a man starved and turning you to face the wall before using a hand on your back to bend you over. One of your own hands came up to slap itself against the painted surface, keeping you steady.

You could hear him unbutton his pants before letting them drop down his thighs, hearing his shoes shuffle closer behind you before you felt the warm head of his cock, smearing precum over your heat.

He wasted little time in pushing into you, a small groan leaving his lips as both of his hands went to grip your hips, pulling you back onto him with every thrust forward. Quick breaths and low moans were leaving your lips with every slap of his hips against yours.

His pace was moderate, but he was so deep that every push back into you felt like a kick to the gut in the best way possible.

You only felt a little shame when you realized this was exactly where Rafe wanted you. But this didn’t change anything after the fact. And he didn’t know that yet.

You started to feel that knot in your abdomen wind itself tighter again, pulling and pulling until after one particularly deep, knee-trembling thrust and the unexpected feeling of his fingers rubbing circles into your clit, you snapped. Coming around him as your nails scratched against the wall and you let out a long, breathy moan.

He wasn’t far behind you, grip on your hip growing tighter as his thrusts grew more rapid and sloppy, pushing you farther up the wall as your body began to straighten itself out, trembling as his circling of your nerves hadn't let up and he rode out your own high while still fucking into you. You felt the familiar feeling of him spilling inside of you within seconds. You didn’t think you would ever forget it.

You didn’t let him bask in his post-sex haze for long, pulling your garments back on and into place after he pulled out before silently moving around him to see yourself in the mirror. You fixed your loose strands of hair and lip gloss that somehow ran down your lips and onto your chin. You could see the blur of him in the reflective surface behind you as he pulled his pants back on, hair messed and skin red.

Once you deemed yourself decent, you creaked the door open, peeking to see who was near. When you figured the coast was clear, you slipped out of the door, leaving Rafe behind.

You weaved your way through the crowd of people that had thinned out somewhat, heading for the backyard where you realized you had carelessly left your clutch on the table. Making it back to the table where Rafe had dragged you from, half-drunk glasses of champagne and your abandoned clutch on the surface, you grabbed it, ready to turn around and find Ward. 

But of course, the second you turned back to the patio doors, Rafe was just inches behind you.

“You’re leaving now, right?”

You couldn’t help but scoff humorously. “What?”

“You got what you came here for so you’re leaving.” He said as if he had it all figured out. You didn’t think he seriously thought you were bluffing about the business proposal. Poor thing.

“I already told you, Rafe,” You started, shaking your head with a small grin on your face. “I’m not here for you.”

His face morphed into one of great annoyance and mild anger as your name was called, echoing outside. Your gaze shifted behind the irritated man to find Ward coming your way.

Stopping in front of you, he spoke without really noticing his son’s presence. “I’m so glad I caught you. I’ve been busy all night but-” Suddenly, he seemed to notice Rafe’s figure in front of you, hesitant eyes whipping between the both of you to carefully select his next words, not aware of the fact that his son now knew the one thing he didn’t want him to. “...I’d really still like a chance to talk about… that thing, before you go.”

You nodded, only really wanting to conceal the childish smile on your face. “That’d be great, Mr.Cameron. I’ll be sure to stick around.”

The older man gave you a grateful nod, pitifully eyeing his son before heading back inside. Your own gaze shifted back to Rafe, you could’ve sworn you saw steam rising from his ears. And though you felt a twinge of guilt, you just couldn’t help but chuckle.

“You are a lot of things Rafe,” You started, picking up your champagne glass from the table behind you before looking at him again. “But better than me is not one of them.”

General taglist; @livlaughquinn

Event Taglist; @timmytime17

feedback is appreciated! thanks for reading.

©loveharlow

[severinageto]

Midnight Cold - drabble

What could he do now, realizing all the minutes he wasted by being late? Eating that candy, having that extra cup of tea, that last look in the mirror, were they worth it? How many times had he left him waiting, in the cold, in the heat, with something as simple as the desire to see him?

Every. Damn. Time.

Satoru squinted and tried with all his might to remember the last time they met in that place, exactly eleven years ago.

"I’ve been waiting for over half an hour, Satoru," he said while taking a deep drag on his cigarette.

"I'm sorry."

"You're always sorry. But you never change."

Gojo sighed and looked at him. He looked different. His hair, longer, less silky, even darker. His skin, pale. His arms, thinner. Was something wrong with him? Not long ago, he remembered him full of laughter, with shiny hair and healthy skin.

Or maybe it was a long time. Six months. Last summer. The summer Amanai lost her life.

The albino looked at the ground. Three cigarette butts.

“You're smoking more. It’ll kill you, Suguru."

Suguru’s response was to light another cigarette. Satoru felt his lateness had made him angry. He took a deep breath, expecting a reprimand. He deserved it, after all. But Geto just gave him a tender smile.

"Your being late is what’ll end up killing me," he said while walking toward the museum.

"What irony," thought the albino as he returned from his memories. He looked at the time. If he left at that moment, he would arrive just before the place closed.

What a horrible and cold day it had been. Full of urgencies, setbacks, and obstacles, as if the universe wanted to tell him that there was no point or time to cry. But he needed to go. His blue heart was crying out for it.

The phone warned him about the temperature. Minus 18 degrees Celsius. Yes, he had to at least wear a scarf. A coat, gloves, and designer leather shoes.

But what about his eyes? Would he wear glasses? Or his bandages?

His heart ached remembering that same winter day.

"Why were you late this time?" Suguru asked in a very low voice.

"My head. Sometimes I wish all the fucking lights of the world would just go out for a while."

Suguru laughed. His laughter, melodic and soft as always, but now tinged with a hint of melancholy that he heard with the clamor of a thousand voices.

How had he not realized? How had he been so stupid? How?

"I’ve noticed. Here. I took it from Shoko," Suguru offered him a long white bandage. "Maybe covering your eyes with this will help with those migraines."

"Wow, but you’re the birthday boy."

Suguru stood behind him and gently wrapped the bandage around the albino’s eyes.

"It's enough for me that you're here. I’ve missed you, Satoru."

Returning to the present, Gojo looked at his nightstand. He took out a black headband and decisively covered his eyes.

Yes, that day was as good as any to start his own version of mourning.

That day he would have turned twenty-eight.

He looked at the time and sighed.

He was late.

❄️—————————

Illustrations by https://www.pixiv.net/en/users/100720460

[elisysd]

The Night We Met – Lord Huron

Masterlist - Previously - Next Chapter

I've been searching for a trail to follow again Take me back to the night we met

Forty-eight hours earlier, Lyanna thought that she would spend three days of breaks enjoying doing nothing and seeing Charles, maybe even call Kika to spend the time. And now she was spending her last day of break brooding in her pajamas and in her bed. The only thing left that she had planned was her phone call with Kika. But instead of it being a happy one, it turned into as sad one. She told Kika what happened with Charles. She needed someone to vent to. But unfortunately for her who thought Kika would be on her side, she discovered that it would not be the case. 

Kika spent an hour listening to the actress explaining to her what had happened and why, from her point of view, she wasn’t wrong. Charles was the problem to Lyanna. She made him clear in the past that she needed someone who would respect her boundaries, something that Charles had already crossed. She had limits, and talking about her past was one of them. Charles didn’t seem to understand that. He was pushing her to talk about it while she didn’t want to. She was not ready, and she never knew if she would be one day. How could he not understand something as basic as that?

Kika listened to her patiently without interrupting her. When she finally felt that her friend had finished her tirade, she told her calmly:

“You know Lyanna, I don’t know you for very long but I think that you and Charles are more alike than what you think. I don’t want to say things that I shouldn’t, especially because it’s not my place to tell you that, but Charles’ life has not always been perfect you know. Far from it. We all have scars; Charles is no exception. If you would just talk to him and ask him, I’m sure he would tell you.”

But Lyanna was too proud to admit that Kika might be right. She would rather to stick to her guns. It was easier than to admit that maybe she had been too harsh on the Monégasque.

So to avoid thinking about Charles, she started burying herself in her work. It has always been her escape. And so, the last thing she expected was for her work environment to become toxic. She could thank David for that. It all began as soon as she came back to shoot her scene. David cornered her, a snarky smile on his lips.

“Well, well, well I didn’t know that your type of men was the little rich ones, Lyanna.”

He saw the rumors online. Obviously.

“I must say, well done though. I have to admit that I didn’t take you for that type of women. But you’re right after all, you have to secure a future for yourself once your career in Hollywood will be over.”

“What are you implying?” asked Lyanna, glaring at him. She hated the misogyny that was coming out of his mouth.

“We all know that, in Hollywood, when a woman is past her thirties, she is no longer of interest. I just don’t understand how someone like you managed to bag Charles Leclerc. That guy is filthy rich, he could have anyone he wants and yet he chooses you who are nothing special. Well done.”

This shouldn’t have shaken her, but it did. He career was a sensitive topic. One of her biggest fear was to lose it. She was trying to no think about it but David was right, as painful as it was to admit. Ageism was a real thing in Hollywood. She was only twenty three but she knew that if she had to reach her peak in her career it would be between now and the next five years. After that she would not be considered anymore for important roles. It would be given to a new actress, a new face young and beautiful. She tried her best to not show David that he had struck a nerve, but the smirk of his partner made her realise that it was a waste of time.

In the next days, to try to forget how Monaco had turned gloomy for her, she let her job consume her. She was the first one to arrive on set in the morning and the last one to leave. She knew that it was not healthy but it was her coping mechanism. It was also a good way for her to not risk unexpectedly running into Charles. She even avoided taking the elevator in case he would take it too. And that would put her in a very uncomfortable position. She would rather be out of breath after walking the four flights of stairs than endure that.

The conversation with Kika replayed on her mind. Deep down, she knew that she was being unfair to Charles. He was her only friend here and she could not help but think that she had messed up big time. Monaco felt lonely without him. But she didn’t know how she could fix things. Did Charles even want her to fix things? She suspected that a simple sorry would not be enough. Especially if, as Kika had mentioned, he too had gone through difficult times in the past. She said some cruel things to him. She was curious about what Kika meant by saying that they were alike and that Charles had some invisible scars too. She knew that the answers to her questions were at her fingertips, or more like a Google research. But it would be like betraying Charles. And at the same time, she doubted that after their fight he would like to talk to her again.

She was weak and she opened her laptop before typing Charles’ name in the search bar. And then, it felt like opening a can of worms.

The first linked she clicked on was an article about Jules Bianchi and his tragic accident in Suzuka that led to his death. She learned about Charles link to the family and how his death deeply impacted him to the point that he had a reference to Jules on his racing helmet. Speaking of helmet and tragedy, she discovered that his dad died not long before Charles made his racing debut in F1. It was wrong, she knew it, but now that she had started, she couldn't stop. She also learned about the sad story between Charles’ first win with Ferrari. How he became the youngest Grand Prix winner with the Scuderia, and the third youngest in F1 history, 24 hours after the death of one of his close friend Anthoine Hubert on the Spa’s track.

She felt sick in her stomach. Charles knew death all too well. He knew exactly what she had accused him of ignoring. She instantly regretted to have discovered all of that. But what was done was done. She could not go back and pretend not knowing. It was anchored in her. She felt like an intruder and it was too late to fix it.

As for Charles he wasn’t feeling better. He was bitter and upset after his fight with Lyanna. A phone call with Pierre was supposed to make him feel better, not worse. He was trying to figure out what and when it went wrong between Lyanna and him, while one the other side to the phone, Pierre was slumped on his sofa, a glass of coke in one hand and looking at his girlfriend leaning on the balcony, on the phone with the very person Charles was frustrated with.

“I just don’t understand Pierre. It just doesn’t make sense. I want to be there for her, I want to help her. What’s wrong with that?”

Pierre sighed.

“Did you even think that maybe she doesn’t want you to help her. I know you mean well Charles but sometimes you can be a lot, and I mean A LOT, to handle. You have this tendency to act like a knight in shining armor, always wanting to fix people. But you know, not everyone needs to be fixed. Maybe Lyanna is one of them. You can’t help someone who doesn’t want to.”

“I want to be a good friend Pierre.”

“And you will be. But it has to be on her own terms. Not yours.”

“What should I do then. Say sorry? Sorry for what? Act like nothing ever happened between us? I can’t do that. Some things were said and I know it was in the spur of the moment, but I can’t ignore them.”

“Maybe try to not be intimidating.”

“What do you mean?” said Charles, surprised.

“Listen, you have this way to love people that can be a little intimidating to some. Like, you always make sure tat the person feels included in conversations, to hold their stares and it’s great. I’m not saying it’s a bad thing, okay. It’s just that maybe it scared her off a little. I don’t know her but from what I saw when we ate dinner at your place, she is really shy and quiet. And you are sometimes a little too much, Charles, admit it.”

“I’m what I am Pierre. I won’t change and I won’t excuse myself for being this way.”

And if Pierre wasn’t enough, soon it was Andrea, his coach and friend that was bothering him. It all started when Andrea noticed that Charles was pushing harder than usual during their work out sessions. He did what all coaches would have done when noticing their trainees being too hard on themselves: he told him to calm down. To which Charles just brushed it off.  

“Okay Charles, stop you’re going to end up hurt if you keep pushing like that. And we don’t want that. The season is shitty enough as it is, the last thing we need is you being hurt. What’s wrong?”

“Guess” Charles retorted, wiping his forehead, and grabbing his water bottle before opening it and taking a long sip of cold water.

“Oh I see. Is that about that actress that all the media talked about? You’ve been rejected?” Andrea tried to joke but only got a side glance from Charles in return.

“Why everyone thinks I fancy her, hum? Can’t a guy and a girl be friends without any questions or rumors being made up? I’m sick of it. We’re friends for God’s sake!”

“Okay, okay. Relax I was joking.”

Andrea didn’t insist any further. When Charles was like that, it was better to let him cool off on his own.

“It’s just… It’s a mix of things you know. The season is definitely not what I expected, I don’t know if it’s ever going to get better. Don’t get me wrong I love Ferrari and I want nothing more than to win with them but I also have to think about what I really want and what’s best for me. There is a dream and then there is reality. I have to be realistic… If I really want to win a championship, is Ferrari the one who will give me the car to do so? Or should I go with a team that knows how to make a winning car? My contract is coming to his end, I have to think about the future. I want guarantees. I feel that I am at a crossroads and that important choices have to be made. I'm afraid I'll screw up Andrea and then blame myself for the rest of my life.”

At this moment, it was not Charles the grown man that was in front of Andrea, it was Charles who look like a little kid, completely lost and vulnerable. Andrea made Charles sit on the bench of the gym.

“You know it’s normal to doubt yourself Charles. It’s healthy. But maybe you need to see someone to help you sort your thoughts out. You can’t keep everything bottled up like that, it’s going to destroy you at the end.”

“I don’t need a therapist if it’s wat you’re implying. I spent my whole life going through stuff and figure things out on my own. I won’t start getting help now.”

“It would not be a shame. No one would look at you differently or pity you if it’s what you’re scared off.”

Charles shrugged and got up while packing his things signaling to Andrea that both the work out session and the discussion were over. It was time for him to meet his mom for lunch and hopefully she would not talk about his work or Lyanna. He needed a break from all of that.

But it was a hopeless task, because shortly after the son and his mother had settled down on the terrace of the restaurant, the woman began to ask him questions about Lyanna. Charles felt as if he was in a loop in which the same conversation was happening over and over again.

“I’m sorry but it’s all my clients at the hair salon talk about. And I won’t insist, if she is just a friend, it’s okay but I must admit she is really pretty.”

“Mom…” sighed Charles.

“I’m just saying. I’m not implying anything but surely, you’re not blind, you noticed.”

He rolled his eyes, pleading inwardly for the discussion to change quickly.

“By the way, I have this thing that I’m supposed to go to. You know about the film festival of Monte-Carlo. Well I’m invited and I wanted to know if you’d like to be my plus one. I know how much you love cinema and I don’t want to be alone so… Artur is coming to and he brings Carla.”

“Just tell me you don’t want to be third wheeling.”

“Yeah that too. But it would be the occasion for you to dress up and to enjoy a night out, it’s been a while.”

“Well, when you present things this way how could I refuse?”

tag list @zendayabelova @purplephantomwolf @ru-kru @dakotali

[asterkiss]

Prompt: “i thought you went to bed an hour ago”

Maybe some fluff? 🙇‍♀️

This took on a life of its own and I'm gonna have to do a second addition to actually get to the fluff. (>___>) Random AU in the future where Bill has somehow become Mabel's dysfunctional demon room mate who she keeps in check. Why? How? No idea!

-SWEET DREAMS

Mabel was sat in the kitchen, hunched over the table with tongue poking out in avid concentration. She just had to add two hundred more rhinestones to this shirt and it would be finished!

Easy.

She was so raptured in her crafts, she didn't even notice the figure entering through the door until they spoke.

'What the heck is that?'

The brunette paused, raising her head to find Bill staring down at the shirt with a look of distaste. Undeterred by his response, she replied:

'My shirt for Dipper's party tomorrow! Wanna help?'

'Pass.'

Yeah, she doubted he would. 'Okay, well if you're not gonna help then why are you even here? I thought you went to bed an hour ago.' She hadn't seen him around the flat since he left to go watch some weird television show.

Bill snorted as he slid into the seat opposite her. 'I don't sleep, I'm a dream demon. I invade the minds of others whilst they're asleep, that's it.'

Mabel paused. 'You don't sleep? Ever?'

'Don't need to, demon privelege.'

Mabel had forgotten about her bedazzling and was now offering the blond her full attention. 'But sleeping's so fun, and dreaming's like the best part of it! Just last night I had a dream where Zac Efron was my chauffeur to school. That was so fun. Oh Zac, you scallywag.'

'Sleeping's stupid! You basically waste eight hours of your day laying unconscious and being completely vulnerable and easy pickings.' A shrug. 'Guess I shouldn't complain, makes it easy for me to manipulate you guys.'

Mabel's eyes narrowed. 'Hey.'

'I mean, it made it easy. Obviously past tense. Don't do that anymore. Scouts honour.'

She rolled her eyes at his less than believable response and the cheesy grin plastered on his face.

'But I stand by what I said, sleeping's dumb and boring.'

Mabel pursed her lips together. 'You wouldn't say that if you had someone to sleep with.'

Bill shot her a look and she quickly added:

'Not like that! I mean literally just sleeping next to someone in the same bed, you weirdo! Even just a pet!'

Bill blinked. 'What difference does that make?'

'Well, you get cuddles and can stay warm on cold nights. Plus, it feels nice and comforting and if you have a nightmare, you can just roll over and hug Waddles- or, uh, the other person.'

'Hm. Don't see the appeal.'

'Urgh, forget it.' It was like talking to a brick wall. He'd totally ruined her motivation for bedazzling as well.

She called it a night and went to sleep in her double bed surrounded by twenty stuffed animals.

>

It was three hours later in the middle of the night that she awoke to a hand on her shoulder.

She groggily opened her eyes to the sight of a pale face inches from her own. On instict she slammed her fist forward only to have it halted with impressive speed. There were very few who could stop an attack from her. Such as:

'Wait, Bill?'

'Sup.'

Her eyebrows furrowed and she sought out the clock in her room. 'Urgh, it's like 3am. Why are you in my room?'

'Let's sleep together.'

'...eh?'

He smirked. 'Not like that you sick pervert.'

'I'm not-!'

'I figured I'd give what you said a try, and since you're the only one around what d'ya say?'

'Uh...' An attractive guy was asking to share her bed. Granted, it was Bill Cipher though that only made the request even more bizarre.

He quirked an eyebrow. 'Cm'on, I don't bite.' A pause. 'Much.'

'Okay, fine!' She just wanted to go back to sleep. Although that prospect was seeming less and less likely the more her heart rate picked up.

She felt the covers shift as he shoved off her stuffed unicorns and slid in. 'Jesus Christ, how many stuffed animals do you have?'

'Never enough and- hey, don't touch me with your weird cold feet!'

'Aw cm'on share the warmth, Shooting Star. I'm freezing.'

'I thought you said you did't feel the cold!'

'I feel it, it just doesn't bother me.'

'Then keep the ice blocks at the end of your legs away from me, you dorito!' She already regretted this as she turned her back towards him and curled in on herself. 'Either that or get out and go back to your own room.'

'Okay, okay, I'll behave.' She felt him settle behind her, though she was still on high alert. But as the minutes ticked by and he remained quiet, she began to ease up, gradually unfurling her body.

But it was still impossible to sleep!

'Why did you change your mind?' she asked, cutting through the piercing silence.

'I change my mind a lot, I'm funny like that.'

She glanced back over shoulder, narrowing her eyes. 'If you try to pull something, I'll punch you in the eye.'

'Jeez louise, relax.'

'Then be honest and stop lying! Why did you really come in here?'

She could feel him scowling at her through the darkness. 'Tried the whole sleeping thing, and it was awful. Lotsa screaming and nuisances I'd rather forget about. Was a big pain in the ass.'

She blinked. So, he'd had a nightmare?

'So that's why I came here,' he said cheerfully. 'You said sleeping together helps you forget that weird stuff so here I am. And guess what, you were right. You make quite the good distraction when you keep wriggling around like a worm cut in two.'

'Wha- gross!' Did she wiggle that much? 'And you should try sleeping again, maybe you'll have a nice dream.'

'Shooting Star, it's cute and naive you think like that but I'm literally made of nightmares. I don't have any good dreams in me.'

'That's sad.'

'It's true!' A pause. 'I mean I guess there's-' He cut off abruptly and she arched an eyebrow at his sudden silence. She could make out his profile in the darkness but that was it. She rolled over so she was completely facing him.

'There's what?' she asked, prodding him to speak.

'....Nothin', forget it. Demons and good dreams don't mix. It would never work out.'

She frowned. 'You just need to learn how to have nice dreams, it's like learning anything new. If you want, you can watch me for practice. I can be like your fun teacher.'

'What?'

She poked him. 'I'm cordially inviting you to pop into my dreams tonight. I'll show you how exciting it can be.'

'What happened to you punching my lights out if I invaded your dreams?' He still had a bruise from last time.

'Tonight's a one-off. And you better behave! No turning ribbons into human inestines, that still makes me wanna hurl.'

'Oh yeah I forgot about that, heh.'

'So?'

He turned over so they were facing one another in the bed, and she became acutely aware of how close in proximity they were. It was fine. It was just platonic. Totally platonic. So what if she could feel his breath hitting her skin?

'Alright, deal,' he said, voice quiet and the way he said it made her heart tug slightly. Haha, weird. A warm hand covered her eyes and she swallowed thickly.

'Sweet dreams, Shooting Star.'

She fell asleep, and the real fun began.

TO BE CONTINUED

[spaghettificationandpretzels]

Congratulations on the milestone!!🎈🎉And yes I'm running in at the last minute to beg for

Frank Castle & #15

plus smut, if you please. He & I both know he was made for it.

I'm sorry this took me so long. I've rewritten it a million times and I still hate it.

Masterlist

Midnight Serenade

Contains: Fluff, smut. Takes place in a universe where Billy was a good guy.

1.2K words

So often the end of a love affair is death by a thousand cuts, so often its survival is life by a thousand stitches - Robert Breault.

Frank knew owning and running a business would be hard, even if it was with his best friend, but he didn't think it would be like that. All he wanted to do was go home and put his feet up, but instead, he had to waste his time standing around making sure some twenty something influencer didn't get themselves shot.

Chad Money, as he called himself, had gone too far with some comments online and ended up on the wrong side of a local gang, and now he needed help. Billy and Frank had done their best to send him in another direction, by another client, one who paid them a great deal of money, was insistent that they take him on. It got worse when they realised that insistence came from Chad having dated the client's daughter.

"You got a girl?" Chad sounded like he was trying to be Justin Timberlake at the high of his frosted tip days.

"I got a woman, and she's at home waiting for me, so I would appreciate it if you'd finish buying your shirts so I can get home to her." Frank had been here for hours, no man needs ten of the same shirt in a different colour, especially when they were two thousand dollars each.

Chad flashed him a grin, "You got a photo?"

Frank shook his head, "No, I don't keep one on my person when I'm working. For her safety." That was a lie, Frank had one in his wallet and one in his car, but he wasn't going to say that.

"Shame, I bet she's pretty." Frank wanted to punch him.

"She's very pretty," Frank looked at his watch, "How long will you be? I will need to call someone to relieve me if you're going to be much longer."

Chad shrugged, "I'm done now. I'll buy these and then you can go home to your girl, sorry, your woman."

Frank gave him a tight smile, "Thank you Mr Money."

****

Frank's back ached for the couch as he walked in the door, "By day dearest?" Frank grunted, "Oh, that bad. I imagine it has something to do your new client."

Frank huffed, "He fucking sucks. You know he admitted cheating on that client's daughter. He's fucking shameless."

You shook your head, "I'll get you a beer and you can put Justin Plywoodpond behind you."

Frank made a face, "Plywoodpond, did you come up with that on the fly?"

"Nope, I've been thinking about it since the first text you sent me." You could see the upset fade from Frank's face, "You gotta admit it's pretty good."

Frank already has his phone out, "Hell yeah it is, I'm telling Billy."

"I'd ordered a Pizza from eight just before you came in," you pointed to the freezer as you opened the fridge to get his beer, "I also battered some ice cream when I got home so we can have deep fried ice cream for dessert."

He grinned, "Fucking A, I'm a lucky man."

****

Frank stood behind you in the bathroom as you washed your face, toothbrush in his mouth and a skip in his step, but you waited until he was done to ask him why he was so happy, "What's gotten into you? The ice cream couldn't have been that good."

He smiled, "I just get to do what I've been thinking about all day."

Frank's lips met yours, he tasted of tingle mint, "You already did that when you got home Frank, more than once."

He shook his head, "I wasn't talking about the kiss."

"Oh, I see." You pointed to the bed and smiled, "I'll go wait for you, don't take long or I'll start early."

Frank shot you a look, "I'll be two minutes, you're not that impatient."

Sure enough, two minutes after you were settled, Frank emerged from the bathroom and flopped down into bed next to you, "So?"

You rolled onto your side, threw your leg over Frank's hip and straddled him, "So." You bent down and kissed him and he placed hands on your hips only to slide them all the way up to your face as the kiss deepened.

You felt Frank's cock harden underneath you as he broke the kiss to pull off your shirt. His hands were rough on your bare skin as he sat up and yanked you into his lap. There was an awkward shuffle as your parted so Frank could pull off his sweatpants and he stifled a laugh when you lost your balance on the way back to his lap, "It's not funny Frank."

Frank took your face in his hands and sighed, "It's kinda funny."

Frank pressed his lips to yours and gripped your panties before pulling them down your legs. You placed one hand on his cheek and grinned through the kiss as you ran the other hand all the way down his body to wrap around his cock.

Frank bit off a grunt and nipped your lips as you stroked him, and with a giggle, you removed your hand from his cheek and gave him a shove. It wasn't much in the way of force but he went down onto his back nonetheless. You removed your hand from his cock and slid it back up his body, placing both has on his chest and looking down at him with a smile, "What do you want to do here?"

Frank's eyes racked from where you were sitting on him to your eyes but not before lingering on your breasts, "Whatever you want." One of his huge hands moved from your thigh to your centre and a look of pride came over his face when he found you wet, "All this just from that?"

You sighed, "You're a smug bastard." Further words were stolen when he slid two thick fingers inside you, and it took all your control not to crumple over as he pressed his palm into your clit, "I love you."

Frank didn't slow, "Tell me you love me again."

"I love you." You could feel the tension of his muscles under your hands as you started to rock against his fingers.

"Again." His voice was tight and you wondered what he was thinking as his eyes locked on the hand between your legs.

"I love you." You clenched your legs around him to keep yourself stable as you came around his fingers and Frank huffed as your fingernails pricked the skin on his chest, "I need you."

Frank was already rushing to give you what you asked, pulling his fingers away so he could grab your hips as you gipped his cock and sunk down with a whimper, "Tell me you love me again."

"I love you Frank." You bent down and kissed him as your hips moved and Frank bucked into you.

"I love you too y/n." The rest was a hurried mess of teeth and tongue as one of Frank's hands reached down to rub your clit, "Come on, I'm right behind you."

You were powerless to resist as Frank noised turned feral as you clenched around him, "Atta girl." His hand moved off your clit, and he gripped your hip so hard you knew you would have bruises before he bucked his hips one last time. You felt him pulse inside you and you finally crumpled over as Frank ran his hands up and down your back, "You good?"

You nodded, "I'm great. You wanna order pancakes?"

Frank chuckled, "You got a sudden craving?"

"Yes I do. That place down the street does delivery." You took him in a kiss and he rubbed your nose with his, "It's still open."

Frank sighed, "Ok, pancakes sound good. I love you."

"I love you too Frank."

Fin

[ajkuerschner]

I sit opposite him, since the place has just become free and the other three remaining ones also say goodbye and leave. In general, it has become quieter in the restaurant and Endrik is also breaking with his colleagues, putting an arm over his “female colleague“ over her shoulder. My eyes nerrow briefly, but I shake off the anger. „We seem to have a mutual friend,“ I begin the conversation with Keane. „Leno is a long-time friend. At the time, I suggested that he should open a restaurant, because he prepares excellent food.“ „Wow.“ „So I don’t want to waste your valuable time and get straight to the point, Amy.“ I straighten up and I’m curious what’s coming next. „I’m looking for a female companion for my free time. You have to know that the escorts have become too boring for me and after a failed, childless marriage I have no desire to enter into a new relationship. Please be my daughter, who I never had.”

„Wow.” I have to digest that first. „Is that serious?“ „Yes, why should I bother you with lies. If you spend 60 hours a week working, you look for a little relaxation and the joys of life in your free time. If you share this with someone, it doubles. „So you’re a SugarDaddy and I’m supposed to be your SugarBabe?“ „I haven’t looked at it that way yet, but ... Now that you say it, it’s comparable to that, yes.“ „I don’t really have the time for that and my friend won’t be thrilled about it.“ „Please call him.“ I take my phone out of my pocket and tap on his contact. At the other end of the line, the voicemail sounds. „I’m not for sale, to make that clear, certainly not for any intimate activities.“ He seems amused.

„I’m just asking you if you want to be an escort for me. I won’t buy you anything if you don’t want to and I’m not interested in, as you call it, intimate activities with you. Let’s lead our relationship on a father-daughter level, because you look like you could really be my daughter.“ „You don’t look as old as my dad.“ „Thank you for this flattering compliment, but I’m forty-eight.“ I look at him in disbelief. He doesn’t look older than mid-thirties. „Okay, okay. Let’s set up a few rules.” „Oh, I love that we get personal and draw up a contract.”

He pulls out a ballpoint pen and a folder with empty paper from his briefcase and hands me both. „Please, write down your demands and then I will complete it with mine.“ While I write down my rules, I spell them out loud. „Our father-daughter thing remains on a platonic level. Physical contact is only allowed if it is appropriate. Holding hands and kissing on cheek are allowed, all other touches and or intimacies are prohibited. You always have to ask before you want to do anything with me. I always have the opportunity to make a decision. It is not asked for personal information, but it is allowed to address, share and or disclose personal things.” „I like that Amy.” He takes the A4 sheet and completes the list with his demands.

„You call me Daddy and I call you babe. You don’t fall in love with me. I’ll give you a smartphone with my number stored on it. We only contact each other via this mobile phone. If one of us breaks the rules, the contract is void and the contact is broken off.” We both sign this sheet and he puts it back in his pocket. Can I drive you home, babe?“ „With pleasure Daddy, I don’t have a car and the bus only runs every hour at this time.“

We left the restaurant and he directs me to a black limousine. „Thanks for stopping by, Daddy.“ I can’t help but smile. I didn’t even call my own father that. We sit together in the back seat and are driven. „At our next meeting you will receive the phone. Please always carry it with you, babe.“ „How could I leave the house without it, Daddy.“ He must also smile slightly during our role-play. „Did I estimate your age correctly earlier, babe?” „How young do you estimate me, Daddy?” „Mid-twenties, babe.”

„Daddy is good at guessing. I’m twenty-six.” The car stops and he gets out to open the door for me. „Thank you, Daddy.“ „See you soon babe.“ He gives me a goodbye kiss on the cheek and gets back in. One thing I have to give him. He has class and his perfume is bewitching. I can’t wait to tell Bamika about it. Endrik is not yet home when I enter our apartment. So I make myself comfortable in bed and text back and forth with Bamika. She warns me that Keane could turn out to be a psychopath. However, I have a strong intuition and it tells me that he has an honest skin. We wish each other a good night and then I process what I experienced in my dreams.

[frizzyanya]

Hi, yes, so I wrote something based on this, it’s copied below or can be found on AO3 here. (3800 words) Based on OP’s post and @fandomtraveller20​‘s comment.

Regulus

It had started out as an off-hand comment, as most things did with them.

Some fifth year girl had come up to Regulus to dreamily ask if he wanted to go to Madam Puddifoots with her. The answer, of course, as always, had been no. He really didn’t understand why they still asked.

Now that he was seen as the heir apparent to his side of the Black Family’s fortune, he was seen as a catch. Damn Sirius for leaving.

No matter how rough and abrasive he tried to make himself, people always wanted to ingratiate themselves with him to curry favor, or perhaps in the hope that his status would reflect well on them.

Not that Regulus had ever in his life been that sort of person.

And so, on one Tuesday after lunch, Regulus kicked the leg of his four-poster, and whined to Barty and Evan out loud, “I wish I could just say I was dating someone so they’d all get off my back.”

Barty and Evan both blinked back at him for a moment, unsure what to say.

“But Regulus, mate,” Evan said carefully, “you don’t want to date anyone.”

Barty wasn’t so gentle. “You really can’t date anyone while you’re so hung up on Potter you can’t even think about anyone else, wouldn’t be fair.”

Regulus scowled at Barty. “I’m not hung up on him anymore, that was a month last year. I’m over it.”

Evan laughed. “Keep telling yourself that, Reg.”

Regulus turned his glare on Evan, who just shrugged but didn’t seem bothered. He should be cowering, Regulus was half a second from cursing them both over it.

“Anyway, that’s not what I meant,” Regulus said, irritated, “I don’t want to date anyone for real, just make people think I am.”

Barty perked up. “A fake relationship?”

Evan raised an eyebrow. “Where are you going to find someone willing to do that? Going to ask Potter if he’d be inter-”

Regulus threw a pillow at him. Evan just hugged it like it had been a gift rather than a weapon.

“Not him. Anyone but him,” Regulus said darkly. Evan wasn’t getting it.

“Yeah,” Barty said, with a confident nod, “I get what you’re going for. I’ll do it.”

Evan pulled the pillow away quickly. Regulus gaped at Barty, equally shocked.

“You’ll what?” they asked in perfect unison.

Barty nodded, looking at both of them as though they were dim.

“If you ask anyone else, it’ll be common knowledge it’s fake by day two. There’s no one who you can trust a secret like that with. ‘The heir to the-’”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it,” Regulus said quickly. “You-” he paused hesitantly, “you would be okay with that?”

Evan’s face was screwed up a bit.

“Why do you want to?” he asked, “what’s in it for you?”

Regulus turned back to Barty. It had been an excellent question.

Barty’s eyes sparkled mischievously.

“Why do I ever want to do anything? The chaos of it all.”

-

Their fake little affair was news within hours. Evan hadn’t really understood why either of them were willing to do it, but Barty hadn’t had a single second’s hesitation.

“I’m going out with Regulus on Saturday,” he’d announced loudly to Dorcas the second he’d ascended the stairs back up into the common room, “finally got him to say yes. He always says no to anyone who asks, but I knew he’d be interested in me. I mean how could he not be?”

Regulus, who’d been at the bottom of the stairs eavesdropping, just rolled his eyes. Evan laughed lightly, but they both turned back into their dorm room. The message had been delivered as needed.

By dinner, everyone in the castle knew. It probably wouldn’t have been such big news if Regulus hadn’t been who he was, but there was no stopping gossip when it was about an heir to one of the houses of the Sacred Twenty-Eight.

Barty wasted no time. Even though their stated first date was on Saturday, he was already acting like he was smitten at dinner that night.

He served Regulus extra food when he’d finished the portion he’d served himself, bumped their shoulders obnoxiously, and flirted loudly.

The whole room probably heard. Regulus would have been mortified if it hadn’t been necessary to his sanity to get those silly girls away from him.

Mercifully, while Barty was over the top with his words and actions, he was more subdued with his touches. Regulus had never been a very tactile person, and Barty respected that fact.

They would never really be compatible to date, but he was a solid friend.

Dorcas and Pandora teased them all dinner. Pandora - who was a Ravenclaw and therefore hadn’t heard the news until late afternoon - ate with them to get the story. Dorcas - who had been the very first person to know - had a certain expression of mischief in her eyes when she looked at them, and Regulus already had a guess that she had clocked it as fake. Still, she didn’t say anything about it.

But if he was going to trust anyone with the secret eventually, it would be the two of them.

They were, after all, his closest friends after Barty and Evan.

He wouldn’t have asked either of them to fake date him, but he did trust them to keep his secrets in this and all things.

After dinner, Barty and Regulus walked out together into the Great Hall, eyes following them as they went. Evan had stayed behind with the girls, which meant that Regulus and Barty’s walk back felt like a procession, as though they’d had a carpet laid out in front of them so that all eyes could focus on them.

They hadn’t escaped the hall for long before Sirius and his friends appeared in front of them.

Sirius watched Regulus flatly.

“Can I talk to you, Reg?” he asked. “Alone?” He eyed Crouch disdainfully.

Regulus just glared at him. They weren’t close, but they’d certainly been getting along better since Sirius had left; he no longer seemed to blame Regulus for every single misery in his life, which meant that they could have a passing decent relationship when they wanted to.

But Sirius wasn’t entitled to Regulus’ free time, and Regulus didn’t feel like getting berated in private.

“No,” Regulus said coldly.

Sirius eyed him, and then seemed to decide he wasn’t going to give in.

“Then I’ll just say it here: what the fuck are you playing at, dating Crouch?”

Regulus’ eyes narrowed. He had expected the questions, but he hadn’t necessarily expected them in front of Barty.

“It’s none of your bloody business, is what it is.”

Barty laughed loudly.

For the first time, Regulus looked away from Sirius.

Barty’s expression was icy, but he was obviously entertained.

Sirius was surrounded by his friends. Lupin and Pettigrew were watching warily, a few steps behind Sirius. Potter was standing even with him, and his glare was actually much colder than that of Sirius. He looked mutinous, as though he were somehow offended by Barty and Regulus dating.

Regulus couldn’t see how any of this was his business at all.

But Regulus was a little hurt to see that expression on his face in Regulus’ direction, because - contrary to what he would ever admit to his friends - he did still like Potter so much more than he wanted to. Those rare moments when Potter had smiled at him, or even said hi, were all etched in his memory in gold plating. Regulus would have to try to forget this one.

“You’re not even gay,” Potter spat towards Regulus, bringing everyone’s attention to him.

Regulus raised one shoulder loftily.

“You don’t know anything about me, Potter,” he said. He didn’t confirm or deny being gay, even though it was definitely true, but Barty made to confirm it for him.

He slung his arm slowly and carefully around Regulus’ lower back (so as not to spook Regulus, but it probably seemed more protective than anything to the outsiders) and stepped a little closer.

“You don’t know anything, Potter. We were just leaving.”

“Sirius,” Regulus said in dismissal, with an incline of his head.

“Regulus,” Sirius replied automatically.

Barty led Regulus in the direction of the Slytherin common room. Just after they’d turned a corner away from the hall, Regulus could hear Potter say “he’s not gay” in a very dark voice.

Sirius responded immediately, but Regulus couldn’t make out the words because his voice was much lower.

Barty dropped his arm once they were out of sight.

“Sorry about that,” he said, gesturing to where his arm had been, “had to sell it, but I know you’re…”

He trailed off, but Regulus just waived his concerns away.

“I’ve got to get used to it, I suppose,” he said warily. There was no pretending to date Barty if he wasn’t going to get used to at least some touch. “That sort of thing is okay.”

On the way back to the common room, they went over what would be okay and what wouldn’t, in depth.

Yes: arm around the shoulders, arm around the back, holding hands, kiss on the cheek, hug from the front, linked arms.

No: kiss on the mouth or anywhere else other than the cheek, hug from behind, hands in Regulus’ hair.

That night, after all was said and done, Regulus laid in his bed, rather satisfied with how the day had gone. Barty was actually the perfect person to have planned this out with. He would respect Regulus’ boundaries.

-

The next day, Wednesday, the stares started to get a lot less pointed and a lot more casual. Most people seemed to have accepted that they were dating, and no longer seemed like it was worth talking about.

Only one person seemed like this news was still noteworthy, and that was James Potter.

When the Slytherin sixth years passed a group of Gryffindor seventh years who were chatting by the Transfiguration classroom, the first thing that Regulus noticed was Sirius’ eye roll. He didn’t say anything, but he still seemed irritated before turning away to ignore them.

But Potter didn’t look away. He just glared, openly staring, at Barty and Regulus as they walked by.

“He hates me,” Barty said with a laugh when they had cleared out of the hallway. “It’s actually kind of funny. Think he’s protective of your family name? Doesn’t want Sirius’ name sullied by association with someone like me?”

Regulus thought hard about it, but he could only come up with one reason.

“Hardly, he never seemed to object to you when we were friends. Maybe he’s homophonic.”

Barty’s eyes widened, and his smile was wild.

“The great James Potter, champion of the little guy and hero of the school, is homophobic. Never thought I’d see the day.”

Regulus frowned at him. “He’s not the Great James Potter, he’s-”

Barty scoffed and cut him off. “That’s rich for you to say, you worship the ground he walks on.”

“Do not,” Regulus replied darkly.

Barty just laughed, unbothered by Regulus’ outrage.

“You do. But if he’s homophobic, that’s pretty bad of him.”

Regulus nodded, awfully sad about it. He wouldn’t have taken Potter for someone who hated gay people. Regulus - who was very definitely 100% gay - felt a little bit sad about just how misplaced his stupid unrequited crush had been.

“We could make him even more uncomfortable,” Barty mused, oblivious to Regulus’ inner turmoil, “make him regret ever talking bad about us.”

“And how would we do that?” Regulus asked skeptically.

“I have an idea,” Barty said with an evil grin. “We’re going to make him get used to it.”

-

Barty’s idea, apparently, was to spend more time in Potter’s way, and to be extra annoying while they did it.

He already knew the Gryffindor seventh years’ class schedule (when Regulus asked how exactly hw knew it, Barty just waived him off and explained that he knew everyone’s class schedule, for all houses and years. Barty’s photographic memory and encyclopedic knowledge of everything he’d ever learned could be scary sometimes) so they could make sure that they were everywhere.

When Potter and his friends exited their Charms classroom after lunch, it was to find that Regulus and Barty were sitting on the window ledge next to the classroom, Barty with his legs across Regulus’ lap and his arms around Regulus’ neck, looking the picture of the most annoying cutesy relationship that had ever happened in the history of the school.

When Sirius saw them, he rolled his eyes and moved to walk away.

When Potter saw them, he marched over straight away.

“What are you doing here?” he asked Regulus sharply. He pointed a finger at Barty. “With him?”

“I believe we are snuggled up cozy,” Barty replied gleefully, “feels nice to-” he began, but James ignored him.

“I didn’t ask you,” he said to Barty. He turned back to Regulus. “Why, Regulus?”

It seemed out of character for Potter to so sincerely treat someone like they were beneath his notice (that was something that Regulus or Sirius would do, but not someone so noble as James Potter).

“What he said,” Regulus replied. “Why are you so bothered? Does the sight of us together offend you somehow? Can’t stand two guys who are happy to be-”

Sirius grabbed James’ wrist and pulled him away before he could reply.

“Don’t rise to their bate, Prongs, just ignore them.”

Potter nodded sharply, before turning back to Regulus once more.

There was something in his eyes, something almost desperate.

“You shouldn’t date him,” he said finally, “you could do so much better. You don’t have to date someone like him.”

And then he turned and left with his friends, leaving Regulus a little shell shocked.

“You okay?” Barty asked quietly, seeming to sense that Regulus was a little off kilter after that.

“He really is homophobic,” Regulus replied dumbly. He should have known based on their prior interaction, but it still hurt. It was shattering the golden boy image so sharply that it almost physically hurt Regulus’ heart.

-

The rest of the week was a lot simpler, because Potter didn’t approach them again. After the stressful interaction outside of the classroom, Regulus and Barty had abandoned their plan to bother Potter all the time.

Without really discussing it, they’d just stuck to their own schedule.

And Potter might even have been avoiding them, who could say.

On Saturday Regulus and Barty had their date in Hogsmeade, and it went very well. They went to Honeydukes and Barty bought Regulus a large bag of sweets, then they got drinks at the Three Broomsticks.

Loads of people saw them, which made the whole thing feel like it was accomplishing the goal they’d set for themselves.

A couple of people came up to them to remark on how cute they were together, which made Barty and Regulus both stare them down flatly until they left, but it was harmless. Trying to gain favor by flattery was certainly less annoying than being asked out over and over.

Regulus only spotted Potter in Hogsmeade in the late afternoon. He and Peter Pettigrew were on their way into Zonko’s joke shop, laughing together as they walked up. Potter put his hand on the door to pull it open, when he raised his eyes and spotted Regulus and Barty down the street.

Something in Potter’s eyes looked stricken. There was a long moment’s pause while Potter stared at them before Pettigrew leaned forward and said something quietly to him, which prompted him to turn and wrench the door open and walk briskly inside. Pettigrew gave one meaningful look towards Regulus before he, too, went inside.

Regulus found himself frozen on the flagstones.

“He hates that we’re together so much,” Barty said, but his words were thoughtful rather than scathing. “It’s weird, actually.”

Regulus turned to look at him, finally pulling his eyes away from the door Potter had disappeared through.

“Why is it weird?” he asked.

“Your brother and Lupin are on a date right now, and he seemed so supportive of that.”

Regulus’ eyes bugged out.

“They’re what ?” he asked, “where did you hear that?”

Barty just stared at him, confused for a second, before his eyes widened.

“Oh, you left breakfast early, I forgot.” Regulus circled his hand quickly to indicate that Barty should keep going. “When we were leaving, Sirius and Potter were in front of us down the hallway. Sirius was going on about how excited he was for his date with Lupin, and Potter was saying how happy he was for him.”

Regulus felt like the world was tilting on its axis.

“He wasn’t homophobic?”

Barty shook his head. “Not at all, actually, he was cheering them on.”

“But,” Regulus began, “but why does he hate…” he trailed off, trying not to finish with “me.”

Barty eyed Regulus up and down carefully. Regulus had to work not to shrink from his gaze. Barty was the smartest person any of them knew, but to be on the wrong end of one of his highly focused stares could be unnerving. You could practically see his brain working through it.

“Maybe it’s not homophobia that’s making him mad.”

Regulus turned back towards Zonko’s, but the door stayed firmly closed.

“What is then?” Regulus asked, “every time he sees me he glares.”

“No,” Barty corrected, “everytime he sees me he glares. I don’t think you’re the problem.”

“What’s that supposed-” Regulus began, but the jingling of a bell above the door to the joke shop distracted him, and both he and Barty turned and watched Potter and Pettigrew walk out.

“Oi, Potter!” Barty called out, as though they were friends, “over here!”

Potter glared at him, but it was more wary than harsh. He started walking over, and Pettigrew followed a few steps behind.

“What do you want, Crouch?” he asked.

Barty’s lips were tilted up in a mischievous smile.

“Where are your friends?” he asked, affecting a casual tone, “usually don’t see you without them.”

Potter’s glare softened ever so slightly at the mention of his friends.

“They’re off somewhere together,” he replied. “On a date.”

“It’s their first date,” Pettigrew added unnecessarily. Potter nodded.

“And you’re not angry about that?” Regulus blurted out, against his own better judgment.

All the anger left Potter’s face when he turned to Regulus, and he just looked confused.

“Angry about what?” he asked. “They’re my friends. I want them to be happy.”

Regulus shook his head slightly, trying to shake his brain free of whatever had him confused.

“But you hate…” he said, but he trailed off and looked away. “So it’s just me then?” he said to the wall.

“I’m not…” Potter finally began, “I don’t hate you. Not at all.”

Regulus looked back at him angrily. How dare Potter pretend he hadn’t been terrible all week.

“You don’t hate me, sure. It’s not a problem when my brother dates a man, but it’s a problem when I do. That’s a very specific kind of homophobia, Potter, kind of rude when you think about it.”

A long silence descended on them.

“Regulus,” Potter said gently. “I’m not…homophobic.” He said the word like it was dirty.

“The opposite, really,” Pettigrew said.

Regulus turned to stare at him, and Pettigrew shrank back.

“What does that mean?” Regulus asked sharply.

Pettigrew flushed. “He doesn’t hate that you’re dating Barty because he’s homophobic ,” he explained. “It’s not that.”

Regulus turned back to Potter.

“Then why? Because this feels personal.”

Potter winced. “It’s not that, it’s something else.”

Barty laughed ever so slightly, and Regulus glared at him.

Barty just rolled his eyes.

“Say it Potter, he’s not going to believe it if I tell him later, needs to come from you.”

Potter nodded. Regulus looked back and forth between them.

“Sorry if I made you feel that way,” Potter said apologetically, “I wasn’t upset it was a guy. I was jealous.”

Regulus stared at him, wide eyed. “You were what?”

“I was jealous,” Potter said with a nod. “I’ll get over it. It’s fine.”

Regulus ignored whatever amused sounds Barty was making somewhere in the distant background.

“You were jealous…of Barty?”

“Yeah,” Potter said with a shrug. “I have a thing for you. But like I said I’ll get over-”

“Barty, you’re fired,” Regulus said without turning away from Potter.

Barty just laughed.

“Pettigrew, let’s go,” Barty said, walking around Potter to grab Pettigrew by the arm.

Potter didn’t look away from Regulus, but he did address Pettigrew distractedly. He seemed to understand that Regulus wanted him alone. “See ya later, Wormtail.”

Pettigrew walked off with Barty, but only after pulling his arm free and keeping himself a few steps away.

“What did you mean ‘you’re fired?’” Potter asked, once they were alone.

“We weren’t really dating,” Regulus admitted, “not for real. I just wanted people to leave me alone and stop asking me out.”

Hesitation flickered across Potter’s face.

“So you’re not gay then?”

Regulus raised an eyebrow.

“No, that’s why I fired him. I am very gay.”

Potter looked confused, but only for a second, and then one of those smiles broke out across his face.

“So can I ask you out then?”

Regulus nodded, a smile playing at his lips.

“Please do.”

Potter grinned. “Regulus Black, would you want to go out sometime, perhaps right this second across the street?”

Regulus couldn’t help but laugh.

“Yeah. Just had a date there a few minutes ago so it might confuse people, but I very much would.”

James stepped forward and slipped an arm around Regulus’ shoulders. Somehow, when it was Potter, it wasn’t a problem. He didn’t have any urge at all to resist the touch. He let James lead him across the street.

“My brother is going to go mental,” Regulus said when they had sat down with drinks, “he’s going to think this is so weird.”

Potter shook his head and smiled.

“I promise you he’s not. He won’t even be surprised.”

“Potter,” Regulus said flatly, “You’re you and I’m me.”

Potter shook his head a little sadly.

“He’s known I liked you since the very beginning.” He paused for a moment before speaking again. “And call me James.”

Regulus nodded, and a faint smile flickered across Potter’s - James’ face.

“How long, James?” Regulus finally asked, giving in and calling him by his name.

James smiled nervously. “A little over a year. Never thought you’d go for it though, never even thought you’d go for any guy.”

Regulus shook his head, feeling a little exasperated at himself.

“We lost all that time.”

James’ eyes widened. “You liked me too?”

Regulus nodded sadly, but James’ expression wasn’t sad. It was so, so happy.

“Better late than never,” he said simply, that smile filling the space between them.

“Yeah,” Regulus agreed, “better late than never.”

Imagine Bartylus fake dating (for whatever reason) and James is so jealous that Regulus thinks he’s homophobic 😭😭

[nemnaa]

Am I the only one who constantly finds themself trying to escape from social media and [virtual] people? Am I the only one who gets disappointed with themself after spending hours watching tv? Am I alone in feeling like sharing my work online and just leaving the app up until I have to post again? But also feeling like if I don’t step back in every so often, I wouldn’t be able to keep up with the system? Just staring at your phone screen, at the vast nothingness of it all. Being “online”, ignoring messages, and not talking to anyone at all. Feeling like people demand too much of me as if life isn’t taking up our hours enough. “Where? Do I even? Fit the conversation with you?” I constantly, guiltily ask in my mind, before ignoring their message.

_nemna🥀

Constantly feeling like we’re all just part of an experiment proving successful in producing thoughtless, faithless, and godless insecure dopamine addicts who have no sense of purpose or direction. I feel that almost every person in our generation is somewhat self centered and entitled, and somewhere in between everything we do, there’s that reality that we’re seeking validation. And anyone trying to denounce “the grid”, the higher society “western life” is a freak or extremist. I’m curious. I want to know why if one person decided to (God forbid) think for themself, they are immediately outcast or crazy? What if I said that I don't 100% believe that Bin Laden brought down the twin hours? That

_nemna🥀

Could I be the only person who feels like this whole idea of “school leads to work leads to luxury” is a trap? A fake? A mirage? A...sin? Who was it that robbed me of my childhood quality time with my parents? He is still continuing to do so. Who was is that decided that seven hours of school and eight hours of work was okay? By the time we all come home, everyone is already tired. No one can fully function as themself with the tv noises in the background and phone calls occasionally interrupting conversations. We’re all literally bent down over our phones reading, texting back, and anticipating until the twenty-fourth hour arrives. Who was it that advocated for this type of lifestyle and who were those that agreed with him!? Don’t you want to know, too?

_nemna🥀

To the average person, I spend enough time with my parents. That’s true but maybe this world’s too much is not my idea if too much. I’ve had the best times with my parents and family but when I look back, I want M O R E. To the child from the old ages, when there was no electricity or “advancements”: I envy you. At least you’re home with your parents from the very morning you wake up. You’re not rushing to make it to school or work. Your siblings are always near you, and you probably even shared the same bed. You ate in the same bowl and looked into each other’s eyes to engage in meaningful frequent conversations. I know it wasn’t always easy for you but trust me. Take it from a twenty first century human, the future is nothing to wonder about.

_nemna🥀

I’m not gonna lie I’m scared that this is the “reality” and that all of it is not even real. I wake up and don’t want anything to do with people or WiFi or devices. Even though I’m young, I feel I’ve wasted a lifetime already on people and meaningless conversations, relationships, leisures, etc. When I should’ve been worshipping Allāh, reading the Qur’anic scripts and sparking my brain to T H I N K. I’ve been developing “academic skills”, reading garbage when I should’ve been learning real lifesaving skills. I should’ve been well with my manners, my mushaf should’ve been like the back of my hand to me by now! My knowledge should not have been something that would help me in this life only; but also in the next life as well!

_nemna🥀

I’m worried about consuming Riba. Ya Allāh, I’m worried about even its dust touching me. I’m so worried I’m sure that it’s dust has already touched me, like the Prophet Muhammad [SAW] prophesied. I don’t want a job that will force me to join the cycle. I don’t want anything that will identify me with the people of the grid. If it means I’m not advanced, then I’ll gladly prefer to be looked at and treated like a Bedouin. O Allāh, I feel like this world has ended long since! And we’re just what’s left of it! I want out, Ya Rabbi.

_nemna🥀

I want a simple life. A garden, a cute and convenient house with a family masjid on the side. I want a job that won't take me out into the city often. A fulfilling job. One that I can be accountable for in the hereafter.

[feitanxo]

repost of the introduction post cause things changed.

abel for life.

favorite songs:

reminder, call out my name, less than zero, enemy, montreal, gone, lonely star, live for, gasoline, the fall, stargirl interlude, trust issues, low life, starry eyes, like a god, too late, i was never there, here we go..again, till dawn (here comes the sun), low life, repeat after me, until i bleed out, nocturnal, tell your friends, prisoner, as you are, next, echoes of silence, xo / the host, house of balloons / glass table girls, tears in the rain, pretty, wanderlust, belong to the world, adaptation, the town, D.D., might not, secrets, all i know, nothing without you, don’t break my heart, 6 inch, take me back, crew love, off the table, escape from LA, faith, try me, best friends, hawái, pray for me, rolling stone, life of the party, twenty eight, loft music, coming down, the morning, what you need, high for this, the party & the after party, hurt you, is there someone else?, elastic heart, hardest to love, ordinary life, attention, love to lay, rockin’, a lonely night, often, true colors, wasted times, real life, the birds pt 1, in the night, kiss land, wonderful, curve, after hours, earned it, double fantasy, how do i make you love me?, LA FAMA, shameless, scared to live, six feet under, angel, hurricane, love me harder, wicked games, valerie, king of the fall, coming out strong, smile, snowchild, party monster, i feel it coming, thursday, over now, or nah, one right now, starboy, popular, die for you, creepin’, save your tears, out of time, K-POP, heartless, unfazed, dark times, in your eyes, power is power, can’t feel my face, sacrifice, moth to a flame, I’M A VIRGIN, lust for life, one of the girls, the hills, false alarm

im in love with house of balloons

favorite fictional people:

childe (from genshin)

leona (from twst)

floyd (from twst)

toya (from pjsk)

cale (from totcf)

i really wanna meet an xo who plays asia server on genshin..

IF YOU DO YOU’RE MY SOULMATE

PLEASE.

[girlwhyumad]

Girl, Why U Mad? Take charge of your anger and learn the secrets to live in peace.

Intro to a Girls’ Madness

           

One of the most revealing moments of my life occurred eight years ago during a quick run into the self-checkout line of a packed supermarket. There I stood a mother, wife, and overworked preachers’ kid in the twenty items or less lane with my then nine- and seven-year-old sons. I swiped my Visa debit card to pay for purchases. However, for some strange reason, I could not complete the transaction. I knew there were funds in my bank account since I got a paycheck that very morning. But the only message the register returned was one of these:

 “Ask cashier for assistance.”

I swiped my card repeatedly with no success before I did as the machine instructed, I approached the attendant who stood at the very front of the checkout area and I said,

“Sir, the register is not working.”

The attendant made no eye contact before I could ask I could formerly ask for his assistance, he said,

“I’m not a cashier, follow the instructions.”

Well of course I was a bit puzzled, I considered he was the closest uniformed person, stationed in the check-out area, and of course he was there to help. I stood there for a moment. Then, I walked back to the register and asked God to make it work. Maybe I missed something, because hey - just maybe I missed something. So, I swiped my card again but only this time I paid extra attention to how I inserted the debit card.

I got the very same message,

“Ask cashier for assistance.”

I returned to the attendant,

“The register is telling me to see you for further assistance,” I said.

The attendant responded, “Not my problem.”

I at that point I had had it, so I said, “Well you’re pretty much useless.”

I spent another ten seconds to explain that I could not proceed with the transaction without his help, that did go anywhere because after a few seconds of refusal, he finally admitted what he wanted to say all along,

“I’m not paid to do all that.”

By this point I was mad. Jesus was no longer on my mind nor in my radar. My immediate reaction, ATTACK!

“Dude, you’re an idiot!”

That is the clean version. I conjured up a few impolite two letter words that began with F and ended with the letter U which made matters worse.

                 "What causes quarrels and what causes fights among you?

Is it not this that your passions are at war within you?

                                         James 4:1

You see precious minutes had been wasted. I wanted to make my purchase and I wanted the attendant to do his job, like right at that moment. I rightfully deserved, help. I had already dragged my kids out to the grocery store and spent about an hour to collect just under twenty items. Does he not know kids and a grocery store do not mix? Someone must make the register work. The register must work -at that very moment, just for me…right? I needed relief. I wanted results right now. Let me ignore, I have two small children watching their mother communicate with an absolute stranger during a difficult moment. He and I continued a terrible screaming match that had my youngest son in tears. I used a lot of colorful words to stick a knife through the attendants’ heart. I saw red. A manager eventually came out of his office onto the floor and to make a long story short, the police arrived. The attendant was fired for his bad behavior, but I was not fired for mine.

I left the supermarket with a cart full of free food (as an apology from the store manager, thanks again mister) with anger towards the attendant but even more frustration with myself. How did I allow a person, a stranger I might add, to get me so upset that we screamed back and forth with one another which left my children afraid? The was the ultimate breakthrough. I felt responsible for my children’s fears. I did not protect them. I caused their pain. I vividly remember my eldest son later ask,

“Why U MAD mommy? Why can’t you talk softly?”

Talking about crawling under a rock, I wanted to crawl out of earth. I knew immediately why my son asked that question. My son was not old enough to say “Mom you are too loud, very rude, and mommy you’re angry too” but I knew what my nine-year old meant.

The attendant was obviously wrong to speak to me in the manner that he did since I was a customer. He refused to assist me. I, however, had fault too. My reaction to his bad behavior made me an equal culprit. My hands were not clean.. It was not the first time my son heard me shout when angry. I used expletive language that would embarrass even the most vulgar person. You see my sons’ question forced me to reevaluate me and my crazy. The crazy thing was up until that point I did not know I was mad. I knew I was involved in a lot of drama, but I did not know I was a mad woman. But I was triggered. Yes, I was triggered very easily. But I knew I was the familiar face in all the shouting episodes. Like the time I was screaming obscenities at the slow driver because I was in a rush behind the wheel of my car. How about the cashier at the Wendy’s drive through who failed to greet me as I drove up so I gave her attitude just so she could respond in a negative manner than I could spaz out (go crazy) on her. That is folks, madness. And what about when my husband failed to rub my six-month pregnant fat feet after a long day at work, so I kindly walked into our bedroom where he lay watching TV and threw the 50-inch television off the stand. Side bar- People, I was pregnant, that was hormones, I think. Speaking of pregnancy, I attacked, yes, I physically attacked a woman after she dismissed my request to play age-appropriate music at a teen party. How ridiculous was I? I slashed tires, broke glass, and was downright mean when provoked.

Let me come back to this thought, I attacked a woman at a teen party for inappropriate music.

I physically assaulted relatives while not pregnant and said very unkind words in the name of superiority.

"Every way of a man is right in his own eyes, but

The Lord weighs the heart."

                                                              Proverbs 21 vs 2

I was the last word woman.

We all know a last word woman, or you are that person. The last word woman is a woman who must have a final commentary in an argument or any contentious debate- just because she wants to win the argument. The idea is to “finish you off” sentiment. It’s no different from a check mate during a chess game or the winning shot of a final four basketball game.  I had to have the final say, the very last word in every argument. Period. Since I was that last word woman, somehow, I had convinced myself people attacked me for no good reason. I had to respond to any negative feedback even when I was not in the right. I wanted to “stick it” to whoever crossed me. Everyone else was rude and I was the target, poor me. I lost my cool many times but that day for sure was at its’ worst, it was the worst because I caused my children hurt.                               

I could cut a person down with my tongue when there was an ounce of me being triggered. I was unapologetically mean and vulgar when pushed-or brushed. Mad people hurt people. Hurt people hurt people. But the madness I struggled with went beyond normal behavior. There was always a need for revenge. The anger exceeded all level of crazy. I hurt people I loved and usually felt awful about it afterwards. Often, I was very upset and embarrassed with myself, but I would end up blaming others for my actions. Let me be clear, these are not positive things about myself but for sure it was a revelation.

That very day I knew I had work to do. I did not like the person I was. But finding a cure was impossible. How do I fix a thirty-six-year-old wife and mother with a bad attitude? I attended church, prayed, fasted, and did all the meditating in the world but once faced with an uncomfortable situation it would all go out the door. But it did not take long after the supermarket incident for me to develop in my mind tactics to inject less of me and more of connecting something greater than myself. You see, things could not work for me because I did not like the person I was, how I behaved and of course I knew I could not trust myself. I reflected on powerful messages, biblical messages, prayer, and reflect on things that uplift me. No one could have changed the way the attendant responded that day. But I could control the way I did. So, I set myself on a path to understand why I was triggered by my violent responses. I wanted to know why I responded in such an awful way. I love my children. If it took breaking me to help them, I was willing to do it. So, since you elected to read this book, you may have had one too many supermarket moments.  You are a woman, a daughter, maybe a mother, a sister, a friend, single, married, too busy, or maybe not. You may consider yourself successful or maybe not, comfortable or maybe not, overwhelmed, underpaid, overworked, unappreciated, uninspired, and or all in between who struggle with the madness day to day. You want to address it. I am calling you out you mad woman. You deserve a second look because your condition does not work for you or anyone who experience you.  Have you had one too many outbursts?  If I had to guess you are not seeing the “best” you in real form.

Hey, I am not a psychiatrist nor am I a licensed therapist. In fact, this book is my personal journey to taking charge of my anger and finding peace in the very simplest way. My journey completed in seven days but my commitment to this would last much longer. If you are struggling with your mad, or struggling to release frustration, you can achieve the unachievable plague of madness, with simple steps. This book will teach you ways to face your mad, how to respond to hard things and to how experience hard people, it won’t come from you. My hope is to help you to dig deep because God gives us the ability to do it and to do it better than we can imagine.

Here’s what I know about me: I am a loyal, loving, driven and an understanding person. But as loyal as I am I also can become a very mean, cold. All in a milli-second. I realized I needed to change. To do so I had to tune out my own emotions and channel in what the bible said about me. My hope is this book would help to rid you of unnecessary fights and move you upwards because there lies within us greatness. Knowing this, you find self-love, patience and an internal peace that leads to satisfying relationships. You will learn about my journey and techniques I used to find my center. You will read some of my own real-life experiences, real issues, real consequences that taught me how to grow. You will learn about anger and ways it affects your day-to-day life. You see, life experiences teach us. I cancelled my peace to go gun for his. To be crystal clear, we all know there are people that will work your very last nerve for no good reason. There are people placed on earth to find all your wrongs and hate you for your right. We all know at times people can do all the wrong things to give you a good reason to lose your cool. That my friend, will not change. The point of this book is for you to be able to walk upright, chin up, shoulders broad, and your head perked throughout a highly stressful situation. You should be able to walk away from a tense situation knowing respectfully that you could avoid choking another human being who struck accord. You walk away with clean hands, class and dignity. Listen, I get it, folks will test you, they will pull ugly out, and then you end up with the ugly shame cry later. But that incident made me realize that I was doing harm, no good for myself. My level of madness had trickled to my babies. What example was I setting for my kids?

Do you feel guilty about not responding like a “normal” person would? Normal people right – who are they? Everyone has a trigger point, but it is important to know that the bible says in

Proverbs 15 vs 18 “ a hot-tempered person stirs up conflict, but the one who is patient calms a quarrel”.

Triggers are likely to cause more disturbance.

Proverbs 20 vs 3 “It is to one’s honor to avoid strife, but every fool is quick to quarrel”.  

You are no fool. Because you are embarrassed by your response suggests you are ready. Do you struggle for calm words in a debate? Do you debate when there is none? Do you struggle to respond in less aggressive way? Or are you accused often of being aggressive? Do you create friction just for the hell of it? Are you unsure of how to pick yourself back up? Are you ready to break free?

Do you want to stop feeling guilty about the way you behaved? Are you prepared to keep triggers at bay when an idiot does not respond the way they should? Do you get mad when faced with emotionally difficult situations? Or you too can kill someone with your words? So, it sounds like you are ready to end the burning pain in your chest (it is not heartburn either). If you are mad and you don’t know how to turn it off, you can change how you respond by following these steps. Do you want to come out on top? Psst, it will not be easy. In fact, this seven-day challenge will be a lifetime one. Because the next seven days is guaranteed to bring you to tears, fears and your truth. When faced with the hard facts you can make a change. But hey, let’s be honest, you and I both know, being mad blocks, your God given right to live in peace. Peace is necessary for a fulfilling life. Do you want to start living? I challenge you to be honest with yourself and start the greatest aspect of life, living in God’s presence, in His peace. Now push.

[kierewrites]

The Supers

navi - masterlist

Dabi x Reader

Mood Song: lost in the fire

Summary: Somehow the world's most feared super villain and the world's most loved super model found their ways into each others lives. And somehow, you were both perfect for each other.

Warnings: mentions of violence, dirty talk, manhandling, choking, degrading, brat taming, pretty much dabi being an asshole lol

Dabi let out a frustrated sigh as he waited for the elevator doors of your apartment building to open. Your snoopy front desk guard was on duty tonight, and honestly that was the last thing he wanted to deal with right now.

He promised you he would be home early today to celebrate some shitty event you had going on. Normally he would remember such an event that had your eyes practically glowing in excitement, but his corpse of a boss had been hounding him about a particular job he needed to get done.

Just as expected, his target made the task much harder than it needed to be. He spent nearly two days tracking the fuck down, and when he found him. Oh, did he make him pay.

“Dabi p..please! I’ll tell you everything you want to know.”

The villain’s eyes narrowed to slits as the man tried to back impossibly closer to the brick wall behind him, cornered by Dabi at last.

“Too late for that I’m afraid.” Dabi spoke cooly, growing annoyed by the man’s incessant sobs.

“No! No, I can give Shigaraki all he needs I promise!” The man cried, his knees beginning to give out in fear as he shrunk to the floor in terror.

The villain felt his hands tingle with rage as the pathetic man cried for mercy. After all this searching and trouble he had to go through, this man should be begging for Dabi to end his life quickly and easily.

“You know you wasted forty eight hours of my time, right?” Dabi hissed, shuffling towards the man with his hands shoved in his pocket.

The man let out a shriek when Dabi leaned down towards him in a quick movement, a crazed smile on his lips as he let the steaming heat radiate off his body.

“Told my doll I would be home a whole day ago, but I couldn’t do that, could I?” Dabi questioned rhetorically, bending down now on the heels of his feet so he could level with the man, “You know how many hours she’s been waiting because I’ve had to chase scum like you?”

Once again, a rhetorical question. But the man didn’t seem to notice.

“T..Twenty four-”

The sound of his quivering voice pissed Dabi off beyond his already thin patience. Letting out a growl he grabbed the man’s face harshly, his palm beginning to heat up and sear against his flesh.

“Thanks for proving to me that you know how to count,” Dabi growled, slamming the man’s head against the wall causing him to cough up blood all over his jacket.

“Fucking hell, you’re a damn mess.” Dabi snarled, knowing you weren’t going to like seeing the crimson liquid.

“You know I was just going to ignite your sorry ass to dust and call it a night,” Dabi spoke, wiping the greasy sweat from the man’s face on his already ruined jacket before glaring back down to his victim, “But I don’t think you deserve that.”

The man’s eyes now shot up to Dabi, almost a bit of hope glimmering in them at his words, until he noticed the downright sinister look in the villain’s eyes. He wasn’t about to show any mercy.

Dabi glanced up at the stone ledge above the two of them and quickly shot his hand up to ignite a burst of fire towards it, effectively severing it from the building to fall directly into the lap of the victim.

His shrill screams of pain echoed throughout the air, surely waking anyone nearby. The sound made Dabi’s heart beat with sadistic excitement, finally feeling justice was served for his previous days wasted.

“Now I hope you bleed out for fourty eight fucking hours, so you’ll know exactly how my doll felt.” Dabi barked with a grin, sending one last stream of flames towards the man to ensure his demise before finally concluding this headache of a job.

The thought alone of the pathetic man made Dabi grit his teeth; between that and the guard obviously staring at him, he was wanting to turn the whole building to ash.

All he wanted to do was crawl into bed and pull you close into his chest and make up for two days worth of sleep. Two days starved of your soft touch.

The elevator ride felt incredibly longer than usual, each step he took towards your apartment only felt like he was moving farther away from it. He almost couldn’t believe it when he found the familiar numbers of your place before him.

The sound of the door creaking throughout the living room made Dabi cringe, though he would never tell you that. Typically when you whined to him about waking you up, he just laughed or simply told you he didn’t care.

He knew that was a lie, but you didn’t need to know that.

Dabi’s ‘profession’ wasn’t made known to you quite yet, for obvious reasons: you were a supermodel.

Your life was broadcasted to millions of people, and though he trusted you enough to know you wouldn’t blabber his secrets to the world, he also knew all eyes were on you, and accidents happen. A life of his own couldn’t afford accidents.

He had a feeling you had a small idea that what he did was illegal, catching hints of blood or ash on his clothes often. The fact that most of his “shifts” ended in the early hours of the morning also seemed strange to you, but you never questioned any of it.

Just the way he liked.

Surveying the empty living room, Dabi came to the conclusion that you were fast asleep, not a sliver of light in sight. Never a surprise to the raven haired man, as you tended to fall asleep on him as early as ten o’clock, to which he would always call you his little baby.

When you were awake in the early hours during his return home, he knew something was wrong, but luckily tonight wasn’t the case.

Though his muscles screamed at him with every quiet move he made, Dabi still made an effort to strip his boots off as quietly as possible. Today’s job was a rather messy one, and the last thing he needed were those adorable cheeks puffed at him when you found a bunch of ‘dirt’ all over the floor.

Stripping his jacket off, he shoved it in a nearby hamper so you wouldn’t see the work he had done all day, deciding he would wash it in the morning.

Your apartment was cute, honestly rather luxurious for someone so young. Luckily your job paid more than enough bills, which initially shocked Dabi since he claimed you were just “posing for a camera”, to which always earned a slap from you.

As much as he hated to admit it, each time he saw the skyline view of Musutafu from your floor to ceiling windows he was amazed. It’s so easy to see the beauty and charm of such a large city when you live at the top, blissfully able to ignore the real chaos that happens down below.

Though he normally hated places like this, he also knew you didn’t have the luxury to live in just any regular apartment anymore. People were always tracking your every move, cameras and lights becoming a part of your lifestyle. Stunning apartments like this always had high security so you could have a somewhat normal lifestyle at home.

With that in mind, Dabi wasn’t quite thrilled with your so-called ‘security’. Since he wasn’t able to waltz into the doors, he usually had to come in with a disguise or through the back entrance. Not once did he ever have any issues. Hell he could break into your place to murder you and they probably wouldn’t find out for months.

He claimed that’s why he stayed with you as often as he did, because your ‘bimbo ass’ needed protection from your freaky fans. And though he wasn’t lying, you and him both knew that’s not the only reason why he stayed with you.

Letting out a sigh, Dabi gave the sparkling city one last glance before rubbing at his neck and shuffling to your bedroom.

He had every intention of showering, honestly, especially because he knew you would freak if he dirtied your freshly cleaned satin sheets. But his plans came to an abrupt halt when his eyes finally fell on your body.

Though a beauty to look at, you were a train wreck of a sleeper. Your body typically flailed every direction once you hit a deep slumber. Sure enough, your arms were beneath your pillow while one of your legs haphazardly stuck out from beneath the satin sheets.

Normally Dabi would’ve chuckled, maybe even snapped a picture for blackmail before continuing on with his night, but thanks to your sloppy position, he was able to drink in in what you were wearing.

Either you were trying to surprise him, or you were trying to tease him: either way his reaction was the same.

Your silky skin was wrapped up like a perfect sinful present for him, your chest and waste was adorned with the most luxurious lingerie he had ever seen. The red fabric just barely hid what was necessary, a slight shimmer in every detail that only accentuated your beautiful curves.

The sight made him groan as he felt his grimey pants tighten at the sight. He almost didn’t even want to touch you, didn’t want to ruin such a beautiful sight before him, but that’s what phones were for. Snapping a photo quickly, the raven haired boy quickly ripped his shirt from over his head and crawled into bed towards you.

He knew you were in a deep sleep since you didn’t even twitch as the bed dipped beneath you. A part of him couldn’t help but admire each adorable huff that slipped from your parted lips.

As much as he wanted to pull you close and fall asleep, the sinful painting before him was sabotaging any hopes of that. If you wanted to be a little tease, he would have to treat you like one.

Warming his hand up a bit, he grabbed a handful of your ass cheek, squeezing at the plush skin before laying a playful slap against it.

Surprisingly the initial grab didn’t seem to fully wake you up, but the harsh slap certainly did. Your eyes shot open, immediately looking around for whoever made your ass begin to sting until you were met with mischievous cerulean eyes.

Your once shocked expression melted into one of frustration, your brows knitting together and your lips pinching into a pout as you shoved him away with folded arms.

“You’re an asshole Dabi, you know that?” You say, though you can’t fight the grin that’s forming in the corner of your lips as he begins to crawl towards you again and hover over you, “Nearly scared me to death.”

Dabi simply smirked down to you, chuckling as your still tired eyes struggled to remain angry with him as he ran his warm hand up your thighs.

“C’mon that’s not very fair, is it doll?” Dabi questioned as his eyes began to drink in your attire once more before smirking up to you, “I fucking told you what happens when you tease me like this.”

You had to fight the mewl that threatened to spill from your lips, your hand grabbing his wrist before it made contact with your surely dripping underwear. His glowing cerulean eyes glared up at you through the dark, but you held your ground as you huffed at him.

“This wasn’t for you.”

At this Dabi raised a brow, a mix of anger and confusion bubbling in his chest as if to wonder who this was all for then.

“Okay well it was kind of for you,” You corrected, sitting up a bit so you could be more level with the man, “But I only had it on because of my show today.”

Dabi’s eyes widened in realization, understanding why you all of a sudden had a brand new lingerie set. This must’ve been what your big event was, how he had forgotten about a lingerie show of all events was beyond him.

“I wore it home, thinking I would surprise my boyfriend with it,” You hissed, the sound making Dabi wince internally as he struggled to meet your gaze, “But sure enough he wasn’t even there for it.”

Dabi let out a growl, his hand squeezing at your thigh before tugging you a bit closer to him as he looked at you with mildly apologetic eyes, “Work got a bit complicated.”

Looking him up and down, you felt your eyes soften just a bit as you took in his exhausted features. You had no doubt that he was telling the truth, you just wish he would tell you more about what his work entailed.

“Wait a fucking minute, does that mean a whole crowd saw you like this?”

The familiar possessive growl made your eyes roll, the sight making Dabi seethe with anger at your bratty response. Clearly two days was long enough for your little attitude to come back.

Beyond that, the fact that possibly hundreds of people were able to see what was his, all wrapped up pretty in this lingerie made him even angrier. Probably a bunch of pervs and rich old people.

Maybe he should’ve made his victim suffer even more for missing out on this.

Before he could advance forward, your foot landed firmly on his chest stopping any movements. An unimpressed brow was raised as you gave him a knowing look.

“Ah ah ah handsome,” You purred, the sound literally making the man before you growl as you smirked at him, “If I can’t get mad about your job, then you can’t get mad about mine. Remember?”

His own words escaping your lips made him huff in frustration. You were right, but that didn’t make it any better. Your smugness also wasn’t helping your case either.

Grabbing at your ankle, he yanked your foot away and dragged you beneath him roughly, causing a quick giggle to escape your lips as he glared down at you.

“Sorry I couldn’t make it to your show dollface.” Dabi spat, trying his best to mean the apology when all he wanted to do was fuck that snarky little brain dumb.

You saw the fire in his eyes, but you wanted to torment him just a bit longer before he lost it. Although you knew the consequences of whatever this secret job was, you were still mad he was away from you for so long.

“S’okay, I know you couldn’t have come anyway.” You mumbled, your gaze breaking away from his own.

Your words stung in his chest, leaving a sour taste in his mouth. He knew there was no venom in your words, but regardless he knew how much it hurt you that he could never come to support you in person due to his secret profession.

“Don’t be like that, you know I want to.” Dabi says sternly, grabbing your cheeks to force you to look at him once more.

Though your lips were already squished together between his fingers, he could still see the pout forming on your lips when you stared up into his cerulean eyes.

“It would make me feel better if you just told me what you did.” You said softly, your confession making his heart melt though he refused to show it. Even if he wanted to, there’s no way he could tell you.

It would ruin your career. It could possibly ruin your relationship. It could even ruin his career. Those were all risks he couldn’t take.

“Doll.” Dabi growled threateningly, giving you a glare of warning at your persistence, “We talked about this.”

Much to his surprise, you dared to roll your eyes at him for the second time in one night. After the hell of a two days he’s had, he was going to enjoy shutting up that smart mouth.

“I’m sorry did you forget your manners the whole two fucking days I’ve been gone?” Dabi growled, releasing your cheeks as he looked down to you incredulously.

Though you felt your heart flutter at the change in his tone, you tried to hold out for as long as possible, “You were the one that left me for two days-”

Before you could finish your sentence, his warm hand was now around your neck, squeezing just enough to make you gasp as he looked down to you with sinister eyes.

“And just like that, you’ve lost your talking privileges!” Dabi snarled with a grin, the sight making your eyes widen as you felt your legs begin to press together, a sight that didn’t go unnoticed by Dabi.

A rough knee forced your legs apart before rubbing against your warm core, causing a warbled mewl to escape your lips as he laughed down to you.

“This is why I hate that flashy fucking job of yours, it goes all to your damn head,” Dabi sneered, flicking at your forehead, “But that’s okay, each and every time you forget your manners I’ll happily fuck them right back into you, yeah?”

The feeling of his fingers now ghosting over your warmth had you bucking your hips up, a whimper escaping your lips when he somehow squeezed tighter around your throat.

“Dabi.” You whined, plump lips parted as his fingers continued their soft torture along your folds. He couldn’t hold out for much longer, and you both knew that. “You gonna talk back to me dollface?”

You looked into his eyes and quickly shook your head, giving him a pleading look through those glossy lashes that went straight to his cock.

“That’s my good girl,” Dabi spoke, releasing your throat as you began to cough and gasp for air. He might have been rougher than he should, but he had a tough few days.

“D..Don’t leave marks you dick, I have a shoot tomorrow-” You hissed now that you were able to breathe, but your words were cut short once again as he shoved three of his fingers down your throat.

“Like I give a fuck, I hope all those fucks see who the hell owns this slutty little throat,” Dabi growled, shoving his fingers deeper till he nearly felt the back of your throat, “Clearly you still haven’t learned your lesson.”

Tears danced down your cheeks now at the uncomfortable feeling, a cry of pleasure escaping your lips when you felt his fingers plunge into you without much of a warning.

“Knew you were being a brat on purpose,” Dabi hissed, smirking down to you as your cheeks flushed with embarrassment, “You’re fucking sopping down there, all because I choked you, huh? Slutty girl.”

His crude words made your face feel like it was on fire, your moans being muffled by his fingers as his pace began to speed up, rubbing at your clit roughly.

“Shit, are you about to cum already?” Dabi questioned, a mocking laugh filling the air before he narrowed his eyes down to you, “Poor baby, probably tried to get off with those tiny fingers of yours while I was gone, didn’t you?”

As soon as you tried to nod he barked out more laughter, speeding up his minstrations causing you to squirm beneath his touch. Just before he could threaten your release, he felt you tighten around his fingers as your body began to convulse beneath him. “Did you just fucking cum?”

Even when he removed his fingers you just mewled at his questions, trying to rub your thighs together as you twitched down from your high.

“You selfish little brat, you really did miss me didn’t you?” Dabi sneered with a smirk, forcing your lazy head to look up at him.

When you could barely respond he let out a groan, moving quickly to undo his belt as your eyes lazily watched him.

“Did I fuck you dumb with my fingers alone? You’re so adorable doll.” Dabi cooed in a condescending tone, his finger grabbing your face once again to keep you focused, “Unfortunately for you, I’m just getting started.”

The morning air stung at your raw skin before your eyes could say good morning to the warm sun trying to seep through your curtains.

Memories of last night’s events had you shivering, your body processing the new feeling of an arm tightly wrapped around your waist.

Moving your head slightly to the side, you felt your heart warm at the sight of your boyfriend’s drooling face beside you. You loved watching him sleep. It was one of the few rare moments you had to see his face soft, void of any emotion. No anger, smugness, lust, sadness: just his soft two toned skin finally at rest.

Moving to sit up a bit, you let out a groan when a sharp pain shot to your hips. Glancing beneath the sheets, your eyes widened at the sight of purple bruises now adorning your normally flawless skin.

Jutting your lip out, you glared back to your peaceful boyfriend.

“You’re such an asshole.” You whispered more to yourself, but the smile on your lips betrayed your words.

Normally moving out of bed would elicit a growl from your lover, his arms moving you impossibly closer to him so you couldn’t escape his hold, but he genuinely seemed exhausted from whatever job he returned from.

Taking advantage of this, you gently wrapped his arm around your pillow before sliding out of bed and shuffling to your bathroom.

The cold marble of your floor made you hiss, always the worst type of wake up call, but it was soon replaced with a moan when you reached the heated floors of your bathroom.

Upon your presence, the lights of the bathroom turned on to put your naked figure on full display. Your jaw dropped to see more colors of the rainbow adorning your skin, all the way up to your jawline.

“Damn you Dabi.” You hissed, a bite to your words this time as you ran your fingers along your raw skin. Of course, you deserved every bit of it knowing you were testing his already thin patience last night, but you knew your agent was going to kill you.

He was always going on about how you needed to find a new boyfriend, but he never quite understood the masochist in you loved this sort of treatment.

The thrill of knowing Dabi would protect you with his life, but also treats you like his play thing thrilled you. The two of you were somehow more compatible then you should be,

Honestly your only problem with Dabi was this second life he seemed to hide from you. It’s not that you didn’t trust him, as he’s never once tried to lie or hold secrets from you. It’s just that you could tell it was inadvertently hurting him. You knew the jealousy he felt each time you left for work.

Though you weren’t a huge fan yourself, a large part of the job was being observed by millions. Touched by millions, intimate with millions, seen by millions. And though you’ve gotten used to the unfortunate treatment of the modeling industry, Dabi has not.

You know he would never tell you to quit, whether that be for your sake or for his ego’s sake, but you know so badly how he wants to be there with you. To be your menacing guard dog and make sure you were being treated nothing short of royalty.

But for some reason, he had to stay out of the public eye.

By the looks of it, whatever his profession was seemed a bit shady. You tried many times to tell him that the press wouldn’t care, and that there were many shady people in your line of work too, but he just kept saying it wasn’t the same.

Letting out a sigh, you finished your morning skincare routine, deciding you would cover up your happy little accidents from last night later.

Just as you had expected, his clothes were sprawled all over the ground. He clearly had little patience last night.

Shuffling over to your closet, you snatched one of his clean shirts and shoved it over your head, glancing at him to make sure he wasn’t awake before moving towards the living room.

A small chuckle escaped your lips when you noticed his boots and coat haphazardly thrown near the hamper. How you didn’t hear his surely loud entrance, you weren’t sure.

As you began to warm up a tea kettle, you moved towards his boots to place them on the clean shoe rack you begged him to use, to which he usually would drop his shoes right next to just to see your cute face scrunch up in frustration.

Next you grabbed his coat, moving across your cold floors to the laundry room to place the dirty article in the washing machine along with your own dirty fabrics.

The minute you pressed start, you froze when you saw red splotches covering where you once pressed the start button. Glancing down to your hand you let out a not-so-quiet gasp when you saw crimson adorning your fingertips.

Immediately you paused the washing machine, yanking out Dabi’s jacket before biting at your lip at the sight. How had you not seen the thick gooey blood dried all over the front of his jacket? A small part of you grew anxious wondering whose blood it was, his or someone else’s?

“Are you always this invasive with my shit, doll?”

The scream that escaped your lips when you felt his warm hands grab at your stomach made him chuckle, your body whipping around to see him already smirking down to you.

He loved the face you always made when he scared you like this, as if he had caught a child stealing from the cookie jar.

Looking into the scene before him further, his eyes darkened when he saw his coat in your hands, your soft fingertips coated with that filthy rat’s blood from last night.

“What did I tell you about touching my stuff Y/n?” Dabi husked, snatching the coat from your hands before shoving it back in the washing machine and slamming the start button.

Though your lips twitched, wanting to ask him a million questions, you instead let him spin you around before pinning your hips against the counter, his own hips digging into your own as he turned the sink on and aggressively washed both of your hands.

The sight of that man’s blood on your delicate little hands... his delicate little hands.

“Don’t ever fucking do that again.” Dabi whispered coldly into your ear, both his words and the feeling of his warm breath against the shell of your ear causing you to shiver while he dried both of your hands off.

Nodding against his chest, you slowly turned around to look at him, your glossy eyes peering up at him through your lashes which made his jaw stiffen at the sight.

“That.. that wasn’t your blood… right?”

The minute those soft words were whispered from your lips, Dabi felt his body tense as he looked down at you. Of course you weren’t worried about him being mad at you. You were just worried about him. Like you always were. Always putting his shitty needs before your own.

“Course not, princess.” Dabi said softly, his stern features melting into lazy kind ones as his hands pressed against the small of your back into his chest, an invitation for you to wrap your arms around him.

He knew you wanted to press further. Ask him what it was, what he was doing, if he was putting himself in any danger. But instead you just held him close, allowing yourself to trust in him and know he would never put you or himself in that situation. Knowing you should listen to him like he always tells you to do; never question him.

Just like his sweet angel should.

“You’re too pretty to worry dollface,” Dabi cooed, his fingers now digging into your hips which caused you to hiss as he lifted you up on the cool counter, “Aw, are you sore?”

Though still glossy, your eyes narrowed into a glare as the shit eating smirk appeared on his lips, referring to the fresh bruises along your hips.

“You know my agent is going to kill me, right? I told you I have a shoot today! It’s my last for a full week, you couldn’t have waited a day?”

Dabi only chuckled down to you, voice dripping in smugness as his fingers gently gripped at your chin, “Maybe you shouldn’t have dressed up all pretty for me like a slut last night baby.”

Though he wasn’t wrong, you also were planning on him coming home much sooner so you could lay out some ground rules. He definitely took advantage of your sleepy state.

The minute you attempted to roll your eyes his fingers moved from your chin to your cheeks as he squished them harshly, snarl at the tip of his lips.

“Did our little lesson about manners not click in that dumb head of yours?” Dabi growled, forcing your hips closer to his chest as he grinned wickedly down to you, “Because I’ll gladly review it again for you.”

You hated how your body reacted before your brain could, a whimper softly falling from your lips when his warm hand traveled up your thigh beneath his shirt, but luckily you were able to snap out of it now that you were much better rested.

“I’ll have to take a raincheck on that sir,” You chirped, grinning at his wide eyes at the little nickname, “I have tea on the kettle, and I need to be at that shoot in a few hours!”

Somehow you were able to slip from his hold, most likely thanks to his small period of shock before his grin began to twitch, footsteps following after you causing shrieks of giggles to escape your lips as you ran from his grasp.

You were definitely going to be late.

Exhaustion havoced through your bones, but it wasn’t even close to the excitement you felt surging through you.

After a far too eventful fashion week, your agency granted you a full week to be off and take time for yourself. Though, it was well deserved, especially after today’s shoot.

“Y/n F/n, are you fucking kidding me?!”

The sound of your name being hissed venomously from your agent’s tongue made you cringe. 

Luckily you were able to cover up most of the marks on your neck and chin, but the makeup on your torso must have rubbed off on the walk to the testing site.

“I promise it’s not as bad as it looks, Charles.” You said with a sweet smile as you pulled him in for a professional hug, “Makeup will easily cover it up.”

From behind you, the makeup team confirmed this as they began setting up their spray foundation station, their reassurance making you smile as you looked back to your fuming agent.

You knew it was unprofessional, you really did. And you tried your best for this to not happen often, as your body unfortunately was your entire career. But what annoyed you the most is that your agent seemed to care less about the marks, and more about your partner.

“Same scumbag boyfriend, huh?”

Every part of you wanted to scream at him and storm out, but you really liked this client and knew you could never turn away a holiday shoot like this.

“Charles, you're ever so chipper this morning.” You spoke, offering him the warmest smile you could muster before being dragged off by the makeup team.

The rest of the afternoon went fine. Luckily the hair and makeup teams were just as excited to talk with you, so it helped speed things along. You told them all about your trip with your boyfriend to the mountains, as this would be your first official ‘vacation’ with him.

Little did you know, your agent kept a close ear to your small conversations with each division of the shoot, devising a small plan of his own. 

In the best interest of you, his client, of course.

“Are you all packed Dabi?”

Your cheerful voice sent waves of warmth through Dabi’s chest, his lazy eyes falling on you as you bounced before your tall doorway.

He knew it was cold outside, but you went a bit overboard. Almost every article of clothing you had on consisted of fluffy fabrics, from your earmuffs and beanie, down to your cozy brown boots.

“Probably not as well as you, snow bunny.” Dabi chuckled, the nickname causing you to pout as he flicked at the small fluffy ball on top of your head.

“Don’t be like that, it’s going to be cold up there!” You whined, happily letting him grab your Louis Voution duffles before you opened the door for the two of you.

“I just think it would be smarter for you to wear less, so I damage less of your prissy little outfits.” Dabi sneered with a grin, your head whipping to him with narrowed eyes as you locked your door behind you with the keycard.

“You will not be ruining this outfit, asshole. You can learn to unbutton things like a normal person.”

Dabi only hummed, confirming he certainly would not be doing that before you both made your way down the stairs. Normally you would take the elevator, but Dabi didn’t feel like putting on an entire disguise so you asked for your car to be ready behind your building.

Going down fifteen flights of stairs was never fun, but for Dabi it was worth it. Plus you couldn’t complain much since he decided to hold both of your luggage, not that he had much anyways.

“We’re taking the Tesla?” Dabi questioned, noticing the key card you were fiddling with in your hands, when you nodded warmly he only smirked, snatching it from you with a whistle, “I’m definitely driving then.”

A sharp whine escaped your lips as you tried to take the card from his hands, but even with his hand full with three bags, he managed to escape your swinging arms.

“You drive like a lunatic Dabi! You better not speed in my baby.”

He simply smirked down to you smugly, the sight making you groan before you finally made it to the final floor.

“Your car is ready outback Miss Y/n.” A familiar voice spoke, the sound startling Dabi as he quickly shoved his hood up and jerked his head the opposite direction, “But I must warn you-”

Before he could finish, Dabi shoved all the bags in the bellhop’s arms causing the man to slightly stumble over, “Make yourself useful, will you?”

A small giggle bubbled out of your lips, shooting a playful glare to Dabi’s mischievous eyes, reminding yourself you needed to tip that poor boy extra when you both returned.

As you made your way to the doors, you thought you heard strange noises from outside, but as the bellhop tried to stutter something out, Dabi simply placed his palm on the small of your back and ushered you outside.

Sure enough, those strange noises were your worst nightmare.

A crowd of people suddenly turned to the sound of you and Dabi exiting the building, there was a moment of silence before shouts and cameras began flashing towards both of your directions.

“Y/n! Is this your boyfriend?” “Y/n, is it true that you’re scared to leave your boyfriend?” “Y/n, show us the bruises! Speak your truth!”

The rapid questions caused your head to spin, the quick flashing of cameras making you back up, your boyfriend quickly wrapping a protective arm around you.

“W..What bruises?” You questioned, eyes narrowed until you saw a screen being held up amongst the crowd, your entire body growing rigid as the familiar sight of your skin littered with warm bruises was held up amongst the crowd.

“How did you…” You whispered, eyes wide and horrified until you noticed the familiar outfit in the corner of the photo. That was from today’s shoot…

“Charles.” You growled, the sound of your agent’s name making Dabi’s fists heat with anger. He knew that damn agent of yours was trouble.

Quickly spinning around, you stood before Dabi to try and deflect any view of him from the crowd as you looked at him apologetically, “I’m so sorry Dabi, I think my agent called the press on me. Let’s just go through the front-”

Your words were only half processed by Dabi. He could tell by your tone you were genuinely sorry, this wasn’t your fault. He wasn’t mad at you in the slightest. What he couldn’t ignore though, was the one pair of eyes out of the entire crowd that had been staring at him since he walked out those doors. 

The eyes were wide, trembling. They were filled with fear. Dabi knew exactly what was about to happen.

“That’s Dabi! From The League of Villains!”

The sound of the crowd gasping had your head whipping back, your mouth agape before you glanced back at your boyfriend whose jaw was locked tight.

“L..League of Villains?” You whispered, his eyes finally falling on you for the first time throughout this entire event.

Everything was over. This perfect little life he got too comfortable in. This domestic, sickly sweet lavish life you swaddled him in until he almost forgot who he really was. What he really was.

He wanted to leave you there. Do what he knew was right and make an easy escape to never see you again, but he was in too deep now. He dragged you into this and now this was both of your problem’s. The new onslaught of questions only confirmed this.

“Has Dabi from The League of Villains been holding you hostage, Y/n?” “Are those burn marks in this picture Y/n?” “Someone call the heroes!”

All he really wanted to do was drown. He felt like he couldn’t breathe, like he was about to lose everything he’s ever lived for.

And then your hand wrapped in his own. Your eyes held so much emotion. Confusion, anger, sadness, worry. But one thing he didn’t see was fear. And your words only confirmed that.

“I’m not scared of you Dabi.” You whispered, two tears dancing along your cheeks as your lips quivered, trying to keep a brave face as he looked down at you.

Dabi could feel his own tear ducts growing warm, but that’s not what he needed right now. He needed to get both of you out of here.

With the raise of his arm, flames grew from the tip of his fingertips down to his elbow as he glared at the crowd with sinister eyes.

“Move.”

Screams echoed throughout the crowd, everyone running in opposite directions while still trying to film the two of you as Dabi led you towards your car. He didn’t need to say a word for you to obediently run to the passenger side, Dabi already climbing in the driver’s seat before he sped off, pushing the limits of your car as he sped down the street.

He knew exactly where he was going. The only place he knew that was close enough to reach before those damned heroes showed up.

Every few minutes he glanced at you, and though your breath’s were uneven and your body was slightly trembling, you made no moves to betray him. You didn’t reach for your phone to call the police, you didn’t try to attack him, you just sat and looked forward, your teeth digging harshly into your lip.

He couldn’t imagine how terrified you must have been. Nearly three years of trust flushed away, with possibly the worst kind of betrayal yet. A villain, of all secrets to hide. Of course he wanted to do anything to still keep you in his life, but he knew that wasn’t his choice to make.

Slamming on his breaks, your eyes widened as you looked around, wondering what he was stopping for before your name was growled from his lips.

Looking at him, his cerulean eyes were already on you. The look on his face was one you’ve never seen before. Maybe it was the real monster in him he’s been hiding this entire time. Those cold blue eyes were deathly serious, not a hint of mischief in them.

“We’re not going to the mountains Y/n.”

The words dawned on you, realizing what this was about. This was your final opportunity to exit. To leave the villain before you, and try to operate what damage control you could to get back to the life you’ve always known.

This was your last chance.

You swallowed thickly, feeling your mouth go dry at what this decision meant, and how it would change the trajectory of your entire life. Inhaling sharply, he was surprised to see your head whip up, eyes leveling the seriousness of his own as you nodded.

“Okay.”

Dabi searched. He searched hard, almost hoping he would find any glimmer of doubt in those beautiful eyes of yours, but he found nothing but acceptance.

Looking back forward, Dabi nodded wordlessly and sped off towards the one place he dreaded most.

Home.

[darsynia]

Goodbye, Farewell, and Amen | Oneshot

(Tony Stark/Stephen Strange Angst)

TBH I'm too wrung out by this to make a graphic. Yes, the title is referencing the finale of M*A*S*H*.

Summary: In a world where your Soulmate's final words spoken to you are written on your body, Tony Stark's aren't the typical goodbye. When he finally understands what they mean, he and his soulmate are out of time.

Notes: This is for my @avengersbingo square, Soulmate AU

I first saw the concept of Soulmate words being the last words your soulmate says to you in a story by JazzJo for the West Wing fandom, all the madness in my soul, which is achingly beautiful. This story uses the trope a completely different way, but please read hers.

Warnings: Canonical character death, Angst

Length: 1,719

Tags (guessing!): @starryeyes2000 @deepbatched @cabinofcontentment @chickensarentcheap @themaradaniels @starksbf

Goodbye, Farewell, and Amen

If I tell you what happens, it won’t happen.

Tony has read those words on his skin over and over so often that he feels like they are indeed etched on his soul, not just his upper thigh. They’re the last words his soulmate will ever speak to him, and sure, he’s grateful they’re not the typical goodbye that seventy percent of the world bears on their bodies somewhere. The problem is, he can’t tell if there’s a hint in there, some kind of prophecy he could follow.

There’s a whole branch of psychology devoted to that, the deciphering of fate, the question of whether you’ve already lost the battle to prevent your death or your soulmate’s (or perhaps equally painfully, your separation, never to talk to each other again) once the words are spoken. Tony’s been haunted since his parents’ deaths by their final words to each other, confused call-outs during a traumatic moment. They’d expected those phrases would be spoken at the end of a long life, perhaps in hospice care-- but no, it was on the side of a road in misery, with no help and no hope.

After their deaths, Tony had wasted some of his inheritance on private investigators, trying to find the person he’d met when visiting his dad at an office building he no longer remembers. That person (oddly dressed, accent unplaceable) had told an eight year old Tony Stark that he would only know his soulmate for less than twenty-four hours. He’d loved that, something unique and different-- but when he’d excitedly told his mother, she’d gotten so angry that he was never allowed to go to that building ever again.

Now decades later, he’s got the arc reactor, Pepper, a host of superheroic friends, and the knowledge of life on other planets. Tony has figured out that the place he’d been banished from was SHIELD, and he imagines his mother was angry about the idea that her son would grow up a womanizer like his father. She’d probably thought that the prophecy was a jibe towards her, rather than a real prediction, but at seventeen, nineteen, all the way up to twenty-one when he’d taken over the company, Tony had wanted to find that person and know the answer for himself.

He’d never found them, but the strangeness of his soulmate’s last words has sat with him for years. Tony had done just as his mother had feared, pretending he was searching for his soulmate by spending night-long chunks of time with countless women. Plenty of them had tried to play it up during their morning farewell, so often that he’d learned to leave them satiated and sleeping, with no chance to speak those words as some sort of lasting incantation.

Pepper’s own words are mysterious enough, in a way the two of them don’t address (‘It’s been a wonderful second life, Darling’ is… nothing he can imagine ever saying). It seems possible that they are each other’s hearts but not souls. After a life as exciting as theirs, that’s okay.

They plan their wedding as they watch friends and loved ones make choices about their future in no small part weighed down by the lettering on their bodies. Then a man walks out of a golden, sparking circle and changes Tony’s life forever.

Stephen Strange’s interruption is actually a ‘saved by the bell’ moment, as Tony had been in the middle of trying to remove his foot from halfway down his throat, regarding Pepper, his arc reactor, and pregnancy. Strange clearly takes an instant dislike to him, probably on reputation, and Tony leans in. He’s heard enough comparisons made between the two of them (intellect, snark-ability, goatee style) that he’d be offended if there wasn’t at least a slight feeling of rivalry there.

That doesn’t mean they aren’t on the same side, though, and when the chips are down and Strange is in peril, Tony follows behind to save him. It’s the right thing for that moment, even if it’s not the right thing for Pepper or Peter. After almost fifty years on this Earth, Tony’s learned that there’s almost never an action that’s unequivocally good for everyone involved.

Tony’s reminded of that as he’s forced to watch Strange bargain the Time Stone for his life-- the exact thing he’d said he wouldn’t do. The reasoning is clear, but as Tony feels the magic reversing his deathblow, it’s confusing, maddening, even heartbreaking.

Their fight is over, both the physical one and the ongoing argument that’s sparked between himself and Strange since they’d met barely hours before. Strange retreats into a mental world of his own as the rest of them stand stunned and silent-- and then… dust.

The words that haunt the next five years of Tony’s life belong to Peter and Stephen.

I don’t want to go.

There was no other way.

One represents a failure of Tony’s past, the other a potential failure in the future-- because he knows Strange had firmly believed his promise about sacrificing their lives for the greater good. If there had been another way, he wouldn’t have given up the Time Stone. Stephen Strange had seen a need for Tony’s life to continue instead of his own, but he’d offered no blueprint, no contingency plan.

That kind of trust is staggering, and Tony’s not sure he’s worthy of it.

He builds a life. In Peter and Stephen’s honor, Tony keeps his eye on two roles in particular: father figure and friend. He’s pretty sure he’s shitty at both, but the next years give him practice at being a father and a partner, at least, and he does okay without the requisite explosions in his wake.

What’s always there is the desire to make something of Stephen Strange’s sacrifice. That’s what draws him to the Avengers compound after sending Steve, Natasha, and Scott away. It’s what throws him back in time, what forces him to think on his feet-- because he can do it. He can bring the infuriating sorcerer back, along with everyone else. That’s the reason he’s alive, and consequently the reason everyone else isn’t. Because Tony’s read up on the man. He’s gone and spoken to people. Stephen Strange had been a lot like him: an arrogant man glorying in his niche until a devastating injury forced him into a new life. He had been a doctor, and over and over again, Tony’s heard the same thing from the people who knew him:

Stephen Strange was all about preserving life. He wouldn’t let half of the universe die just to save one man. Not unless it was the path to saving everyone.

It’s maybe a lot to live up to, now that Tony’s standing next to a compound in ruins, staring down another fight with Thanos.

Tony’s riding high, after seeing so many people brought back to life. He’s hugged Peter and fought next to Pepper, watched everyone work together to keep Thanos at bay as they work to send the Stones out of his reach. He sees Strange and lands nearby; there are years of Things To Say crowding his throat, but the most important one comes first.

“You said one out of fourteen million we win, yeah?” Strange’s expression is full of dread, and Tony almost falters, but he can’t. He can’t. “Tell me this is it.”

“If I tell you what happens, it won’t happen,” Stephen says.

Tony’s bluster drops away. There’s no mistaking those words. Strange isn’t acting like anything momentous occurred, but something deep inside Tony is screaming that there’s one more thing to say. Probably the last thing. He wishes there was time to make it mean more, maybe even make it absurd, or at least make it memorable, but there isn’t.

He’s not that much of a dick anyway, Tony decides. “You better be right,” he says-- and there it is. Stephen freezes, recognition and understanding flushing his face. 

The following moment is short, but somehow it’s still a decent percentage of the time they’ve gotten to spend together. As Tony takes off to continue fighting, seven words reverberate in his head.

One of us is going to die. One of us is going to die.

The weight of that knowledge is almost enough to negate his repulsors, and the longer Tony battles with it dragging him down, the more he understands the shape it’s going to take.

The fact is, Stephen Strange has already died for him.

He’d died without knowing what Tony has feared since he was eight, that the soothsayer was right. Tony has already spent less than a day with his soulmate. If Howard Stark hadn’t interrupted the conversation right after that revelation, would he have learned a second, more triumphant secret? Would Tony have known since he was a child that he’d bring his soulmate back to life? What that would have done to his confidence, over the years?

He’s forced to compartmentalize all of this as he keeps fighting, and whether finding his soulmate has anything to do with it or not, Tony’s on his face in the dirt when the worst happens: Thanos is wearing the gauntlet again. Morgan’s face swims in front of his eyes, and Tony looks around to see who’s left to make a last great stand with him. That’s when he catches Stephen’s eye.

There’s a whole unlived lifetime in that look, in the seconds it takes for Strange to give Tony a single, miserable, hopeful signal.

This is the one.

‘I know what to do,’ Tony can’t say. ‘I owe you one,’ goes unsaid, too. When the time comes, when he’s picking what to say before the snap that saves his wife, his daughter, his soulmate, and the rest of the universe, Tony hopes they each understand what he says in their own context.

For Pepper, it’s an apology. He never could stop.

For Morgan, it’s an attempt to be her hero, one last time.

For Stephen, it’s about inevitability. He was the guardian of the Time Stone, and that’s the one thing the two of them never had: time. Without those roles, they never would have met. Without their deaths, the world would be a different place entirely.

He hopes they’ll remember him.

“I’m sorry, Pep.”

a previous version of the title was miswritten as 'goodnight'

[teaberrii]

Chapter Twenty-Six: The President's Delinquent (END)

You and Cyno can’t be more different. He’s Akademiya’s perfect student council president. You’re a labelled, cursed delinquent who changes into a cat for eight hours when kissed.

When Cyno gets a complaint about you, he’s forced to take action, only for it to lead to unexpected circumstances.

Cyno/You

Notes:

Cross-posted on Ao3

Chapter index at the end of chapter one

Two months later

“Congratulations!”

You'd invited Cyno inside after he drove you home from a date that evening. The last thing he's expecting is to be greeted by the sound of party poppers going off and his friends gathered at the front entrance. You also look just as surprised.

It's a week before graduation, and the best news Cyno has ever gotten throughout his entire student career at Akademiya is that you and he will be going to Liyue… together. Cyno learned about his accepted application first; you were among the first people to know.

You also got your acceptance letter into Liyue's graduate program a few days later. When you gave him the tightest back hug of his life the day at school, Cyno worried that something had happened. But his worries immediately vanished when he turned around and saw your large smile.

“I’m surprised you managed to keep this a secret,” you say to Rahman when everyone is together with drinks in the living room. Everyone has wine, while Nahida and Jebrael’s son has orange juice.

“Well, I can’t have everyone’s efforts go to waste!”

“Okay, okay,” Candace says, raising a glass, and everyone else does the same. “Here’s to Cyno and Catnip on their next chapter in life together!”

“You make it sound like they’re getting married,” Tighnari laughs.

“I have one.” Everyone turns to you as you clear your throat. “Here’s to the good news that everyone got in recent weeks! Tighnari, on his acceptance into Sumeru’s graduate forestry program. Candace, on her new job in the Sumeru government. Professor Alhaitham, on his promotion. Kaveh, on his new job as a lead architect!”

"How come Haitham always gets Professor before his name, and I only get—"

Nahida lifts her glass higher. “Cheers!”

“Cheers!”

Kaveh raises his glass with a deadpan look but drinks his wine regardless.

Soon, the room is filled with laughter, conversation, and squeals and screams.

“Hey.”

Cyno turns around and sees Nilou. “Hey.”

Over the last two months, Cyno and Nilou have slowly repaired their friendship, and he's glad they are finally back on good terms. No more hard feelings. No more awkwardness.

“What are you doing standing here all alone? You should be celebrating! Or… is something wrong?”

“I guess I can relate to how you felt when you decided to leave Sumeru.”

“Ah…” Nilou chuckles. “Are you feeling nostalgic already?” She nudges him. “You have it better, at least. Catnip is coming with you.”

“I’m thankful she is. But there’s also everyone else.”

“Well, we can’t have everything we want in life.” Cyno looks past Nilou, and she turns around to see Tighnari. “If I could have everything my way, all of us would be together forever!”

“Cliché.”

“I think we’d get tired of each other pretty fast,” Candace says.

“Geez, we’re supposed to be celebrating!” Kaveh sighs.

“I have an idea.”

No one would’ve thought Alhaitham would be the one to suggest a game of Twister.

“Get your ass out of my face!”

“Ow! You’re stepping on me, Tighnari!”

“Ack! I can’t! I can’t!”

Cyno's glad he dropped out of the game early. Now, it's a battle between Nahida, Candace, Tighnari, Kaveh, and Jebrael's son. Each of them looks determined to win. Cyno looks around. It's been a while since you left for the washroom. What's keeping you? So, he steps out.

“If you need anything… anything at all, don’t hesitate to call us.”

Rahman's voice makes Cyno look around the corner, and he sees you, Rahman, and Jebrael in the garden.

“It’s the first time I’ve seen you so emotional,” you say.

Rahman sniffles. “It’s just… you’ve always been with us! Like… without you… it’s like a part of us is gone.”

“You’re taking it too far, Rahman,” Jebrael says. “Ojou will be fine.”

“Well, I know that! But… it’s always been the three of us!”

Cyno suddenly remembers what Nahida said a few months ago: It’s always been the two of us! He’s about to walk away when he hears Rahman say, “Well, at least you’ll be in good hands. The kid will look after you.”

Jebrael turns to Rahman. “That doesn’t mean she should rely on him.”

That’s when Rahman sees Cyno. “Hey, kid!”

“I didn’t mean to eavesdrop,” Cyno says, coming out from behind the corner.

“You were probably looking for Ojou, huh?” Rahman asks with a grin.

"She was gone for a while."

“It’s going to be her first time away from home for so long,” Jebrael says to Cyno.

“I’ll look after her,” Cyno says seriously.

You gently nudge him. “Don’t you mean we’ll look after each other?”

Rahman suddenly takes out a list and hands it to Cyno. "If she gets sick, we found that these usually help. Oh! And…"

Cyno listens intently as Rahman and occasionally Jebrael chimes in with taking care of you and the like. Now that Cyno thinks about it, who are Rahman and Jebrael? As in... what's their connection to you? Your relationship with them is like family, but Cyno doesn't think you're blood-related. You've also never mentioned it either.

“Hey, kid?” Cyno turns to Rahman. “You look like you have something on your mind.”

Would it be rude to ask? 

“I was just thinking”—he looks from you to Rahman and Jebrael—“how did the three of you meet?”

“Ah…” Rahman smiles. “Yeah, not surprised that you're curious. Well, to start… we aren’t related by blood.”

“But our families are connected,” Jebrael says. “Her family is the leader of the Eremites, and we work under them.”

“Our families were quite close,” you also add. You glance at them, and they nod. “Their parents died young… so my family took them in and raised them like their own. I wasn’t even born yet.”

“I see,” Cyno says. “No wonder you’re so close.”

“When we found out her parents were pregnant with a girl, it was like we were getting a little sister!” Rahman says. “But… I was hoping for a boy.”

“Rude,” you say jokingly.

“What are you four doing out here?” Your grandmother appears from behind the corner. “You shouldn’t be missing out on your celebration.”

"Ah, well, we were just talking…." Rahman says.

Your grandmother has a bag in her hands, and Jebrael takes it from her. "I bought you some things to take with you," she says. Then, her eyes land on Cyno. "I'm glad you'll have each other. It'll make things a little easier while abroad."

You hug your grandmother, and she immediately returns the gesture. “You’re taking a big step forward, child,” she continues, gently patting your back. “You’re finally stepping out on your own and going to have the life you always wanted.”

“This was the life I’ve always wanted,” you say. “Being with you… Rahman… Jebrael… Going to Liyue is just another chapter.”

Rahman sniffles. “I… I think I need a tissue.”

"No, you don't," Jebrael deadpans.

“Hey!” Nahida peeks around the corner. “There you guys are! Are you coming to eat or not?”

“Oh! Y’all better have saved me some chicken legs,” Rahman says, following Nahida back inside the house.

“You better join them before they eat everything,” your grandmother says.

You take Cyno’s hand and walk back inside to overlapping conversations, laughter, and smiles.

After all the craziness, Cyno couldn't be more thankful that he's starting a new beginning with one of the most important people in his life. Liyue will be another challenge, but if you and he can handle Scaramouche, it feels like you can handle anything. Also, Cyno hasn't told you yet... but no matter where you go or who you become, you will always be his delinquent.

…

…

…

The door opens, and Scaramouche walks inside the dreary-looking room.

"You have five minutes," the officer says. Then, he slams the door.

Scaramouche sits in the chair and lazily looks at the ginger before him.

"Orange is really not your colour, Balladeer," he says with a slight smirk.

“Get to the point, Tartaglia,” Scaramouche says. “Don’t tell me you came just for a fucking visit.”

Tartaglia laughs and leans back. “So much for getting rid of the girl. Your plan failed miserably." Scaramouche glares at him. "I'm sure you already know she and her little boy toy are heading to Liyue."

“And?”

“Those two will be on my turf now. You should know what that means.” Tartaglia leans forward. “It’s time to get rid of them once and for all.”

“She’s not worth the time anymore.”

“Don’t tell me you developed a soft spot for her.”

“If you kill her, they’ll come after you. You will have accomplished nothing but become their most wanted person.”

“I’m not talking about just the girl,” Tartaglia says. “I don’t know what kind of grudge or beef you had with her, but I’m looking at the bigger picture… I’m talking about her entire family.” He smiles coldly. “They are a disgrace. It’s time for a new era of delinquents.”

Scaramouche gives Tartaglia one last look. “It’s not that easy.”

“You underestimate me.”

The door swings open, and the same police officer walks in. "Time's up."

Scaramouche stands as the ginger says, "It's time for freedom, Balladeer."

Just before the door closes, Scaramouche turns around. "I guess I'm counting on you for once, Tartaglia. Don't let me down."

Something about that small, wicked smile on the ginger's face tells Scaramouche that everything will go according to plan.

End notes:

Did I really just end this on a cliffhanger... Yes, yes, I did. XD...

Also, I'm running a poll on what I should write next. Take a look if you are interested :)

Some fun facts about this story:

1) This was originally a Xiao/Reader. I thought about making Xiao the delinquent and the cat while you're the school president. But, I thought that was too typical. Somewhere along the way, I thought Cyno would be a better fit, and eventually, it became a decision on who to make the cat, the delinquent, and the school president.

2) You and Cyno's careers/characters are loosely inspired by the characters in Gokusen, a Japanese drama. Except, the female lead in that show is already a high school teacher, and the male lead is her student.

3) Nilou was supposed to be Collei. I originally had you rejecting Cyno's confession and having Collei come in as an old friend/junior who Tighnari, Candace, and Cyno used to mentor. But, I thought you rejecting Cyno didn't really have a point. So, it turned into a bonding moment with Rahman and Jebrael instead.

Thank you to those who stuck around until the very end! Y'all are amazing <3

Tag list: @lxry-chxn @suoshiii @lordbugs @seirenspinel @iwishitwas @sketcheeee @thetwinkims @ch0c0shortiie @sakiimeo @ashtree-and-the-cats @whorerificstuff @chaimkko @bennytheghost @riylvx

[chaoticneutralelf]

Short story: The Potion

The first time he took the potion he was eight years old.

It was a simple spell, originally created by the wild elves—a culture known to embrace people like him. And although the spell only lasted about twenty-four hours, the effects were life-changing. Drinking this potion allowed the user to change into the opposite sex, which for some would be no more than a parlour’s trick, a funny joke after losing a drunken bet.

For Verim, however, it had allowed him to be who he’d always hoped to be. And at age twenty-one, when he’d escaped his father’s clutches long enough to find himself, he tracked down the witch that could make the change permanent. In many ways, his life started at that very moment. And although he didn’t know it at the time, it would lead him right to where he was now. 

At the royal feast as General of the Ethral Army. Not just any feast, but King Tyon’s birthday, whom he’d come to call his friend over the years. Now in his early thirties, Verim had little reason to look back on his past, but he’d certainly not forgotten.

For that reason, he found himself distracted after taking several sips of his wine. He’d been so caught up in his conversation with Lady Enu and her knight, that he hadn’t noticed it until now. Although distinct, the familiar flavour was so subtle that it was difficult to pick up. It probably didn’t help that even after all these years, he still couldn’t figure out what it actually tasted like. But he knew one thing, which was that he only had a couple of seconds to make his escape.

“Please excuse me, my lady,” he said to Lady Enu, offering her a nod before spinning around to make a quick line through the banquet hall.

But not quick enough to escape the elven lady’s comment. “That must be number two,” she joked. Of course she did. Lady Enu certainly wasn’t known for her elegance.

Verim didn’t have time to come up with a witty response, nor to figure out who had spiked his drink. Right now he needed to get away from everyone, from all the prying eyes. As he burst through the door, he soon found himself in the palace’s decorated hallways, before making it to the next door. This one led to the bathrooms and in a stroke of pure luck, it was completely vacant. He wasted no time locking himself in.

Fuck. Now what? He found his heart racing in his chest and his eyes darting around the room as if somehow he’d find something to put a stop to this. But he knew very well that wasn’t possible. That bitter taste that had made its way into his wine could only be one thing. It was the very potion that had saved him when he was eight years old, somehow mixed into his drink at possibly the most important event of the year. And although he’d never know who did it, he already knew who was behind it.

His father. Who else?

“Uh, Verim?” A familiar voice sounded from the other side of the door, startling the man inside. It was Reviro, the guard he’d befriended on the very first day he came to the palace. In fact, for the longest time, he was his only friend, but there was one thing that Reviro didn’t know about him. That he was born in a woman’s body. He was about to find out. “Are you alright? You ran in here looking rather upset.”

“Uh, I’m constipated,” he squeaked, his heart sinking once he heard his own voice. It was already too late. He looked down to see how his body had changed. Even in his male form, he’d always been slim, but now he was even slimmer than before, with curves in places where he’d never wanted to see any. It was as shocking as it was surreal, not having seen himself this way since he was a child. This body felt even less like his own than back then, a heavy weight pulling on his chest while his uniform grew too tight around his hips.

This was not good.

“Wait, who’s in there with you?” Reviro demanded to know after a few seconds of thought. “What’s going on?”

Right. His voice sounded nothing like his own. Scraping his throat, he tried to lower his pitch as far as he could. “It’s me, Verim,” he muttered, cheeks turning red at how ridiculously the words came out. Fuck. This was really bad.

Although he couldn’t see him, he knew his friend was shooting a puzzled frown at the door. “I know what Verim sounds like and it’s not you,” he grumbled. “What did you do to him? Tell me now or I’ll break down this door.” Knowing Reviro, he wasn’t making an empty threat.

“Uh, well—” How was he even going to explain this? Perhaps his friend wasn’t as perceptive as he was, but there was no way he was going to lie his way out of this one. He took a deep breath. “You know that rumour that’s been going around lately?” He asked. “Of me secretly being a woman?” He’d gotten several questions about it over the past few weeks, until finally discovering that the whole palace had been talking about this. Another courtesy of his father, he supposed. “Well, it’s true.”

The silence that followed was deafening, not a single noise sounding from the other side of the door. Until eventually his friend opened his mouth again, his tone surprisingly gentle. “May I come in?” Was all he asked.

The last thing he wanted was for anyone to see him in this awful form, let alone his friend. And considering how he’d made quite the ordeal to deny this rumour, it was more than just embarrassing. Just the idea of someone laying eyes on him felt like a violation. Yet there was no use in saying no now. And so with a heavy sigh escaping his lips, he carefully creaked open the door.

Blinking as he studied the other male, Reviro visibly had to recollect his words. “Uh, that’s— I—”

Fuck. He didn’t have time for this. No one else could see him like this. Letting out a frustrated growl, he swung open the door to forcefully pull his friend into the bathrooms, after which he locked them back in.

Bouncing back, Reviro ran his eyes over him again, his expression remaining baffled. “Alright, so this is how you actually look?” He asked him, tilting his head to the side as he raised a brow. “I mean, I’ve seen you naked more than enough to know you don’t normally look like this.” The thought brought a chuckle to him.

At least his friend believed it was him now. Verim wasn’t so sure if that was a good thing or incredibly bad. The effects of the potion would last a lot longer than he could remain hidden in this bathroom and he wasn’t so sure if he wanted to be recognised the moment he stepped outside. After all the rumours about him, this was the last thing he needed. “No, this is just a damn potion,” he spat, shaking his head before he began pacing around the small room. “Some elven witch at the black market made the change permanent a little over ten years ago. Before that, I drank a potion for it every day. Apparently, the potion works the other way around now. It’s only temporary, but—”

Staring at him, the other male burst into laughter and Verim’s face burned red.

“What?!” He snapped, freezing in his tracks and balling his hands into fists. “Is this funny to you? Everyone in this damn palace will know the truth if they see me this way!”

Shaking his head, Reviro could barely recompose himself long enough to speak. “I’m sorry, but you look ridiculous,” he said.

His eyebrows drew together as he glared at the other male. “What’s that supposed to mean?!” He sneered. Just because he felt absolutely ridiculous, didn’t mean his friend got to treat him that way!

The man was laughing so hard that his whole face turned red. “Because this is nothing like you,” he said. “You don’t even look like a woman. You just look angrier than usual. And tinier.”

Wait. What? His frown deepened. “Take this seriously, man,” he growled.

“Why?” His friend said, leaving no time for the other male to respond. “This doesn’t prove anything, because you’re not a woman. It’s just some stupid potion.” He finally stopped his chuckling to study Verim. “How’d you even accidentally drink that?”

“I didn’t,” he said, letting out a deep sigh as he rubbed his face with his palms. “Well, I did, but—someone must have slipped it into my drink. Probably paid off by my father.”

Frowning, Reviro tilted his head to the side. “Why would he do that?”

“Because we’re at war with him, remember?” He said. “I bet he thinks that if he can prove this, it will get me fired. He must be really desperate to resort to this. He was the one that insisted on keeping this a secret all my life.” His head was spinning, hundreds of thoughts echoing in his mind. “Ancients, this is fucking disgusting. No one in Ethral is going to care enough to fire me, but they’ll all know.”

Stepping further into the room, Reviro let his gaze wander around before landing on the cup of wine the general had placed on the sink. “Is this the one with the potion?” He said, picking it up to sniff the contents.

Shooting him a puzzled look, he nodded. “Yes, but are you not hearing me?”

Seemingly without a second thought, Reviro downed the rest of the cup, letting out a content sigh once he finished it.

Verim’s eyes went so wide they nearly popped out of his sockets. “What are you doing?!” He asked, stepping over to him.

His friend’s lips curled into a bright smile, a nonchalant shrug coming over him. “Now everyone will think I’m secretly a woman too,” he murmured.

He frowned. “Of course not,” he barked. “All you did was drink this stupid potion.” He could already picture his friend marching around with a grin from ear to ear, making lewd jokes to everyone he knew in the guard. For him this was just a joke, but—

“So did you,” Reviro said. “Now either you walk around with a sour face and leave everyone wondering what the fuck happened, or we just go have some fun together. I mean, who cares what they believe?”

He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. It wasn’t nearly as simple as his friend made it seem, but—perhaps that didn’t matter.

Then, the change happened. Reviro’s broad shoulders slowly morphed into a delicate figure that barely fit his clothes—a thin waist, broad hips and a chest that stuck out. He looked entirely different, yet also perfectly the same. Had Reviro known how to carry himself, perhaps he could have actually looked like a woman. But he didn’t. He still looked as nonchalant as ever. Perhaps physical appearance wasn’t everything.

Entirely unexpected, Verim found himself bursting into laughter, much like his friend had mere moments ago. “If you think I look ridiculous, you should see yourself in the mirror,” he told him.

Spinning in his position, he quickly studied himself in the mirror above the sink, growing an overly entertained grin across his face. “We should totally try and seduce some of the male guards,” he said, eyes wide as he stared at himself.

He laughed again. “You mean the ones that don’t want to sleep with you normally?”

Reviro joined in on his laughter. “Says you,” he shot back.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he replied, though his tone was far from genuine. “I am General of the Ethral Army—it would be highly unethical of me to sleep with any soldier.”

Turning back to face him, the man rolled his eyes. “You weren’t always a general, were you?” He briefly ran his gaze over him. “Why not sneak out and relive the good old days for one night?” The gleam in his eye was a familiar one, that ominous look when he was about to do something that would most certainly get them in trouble.

“No,” he said firmly before a smile crept its way back onto his face. “We left those behind for a good reason. I just got this job, so I’d like to keep it.”

Though the ominous expression remained on his face, Reviro didn’t push any further. “Let’s at least make it a fun night,” he said, taking a step forward to place a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “For all I care we tell everyone we lost a bet. Whatever makes you feel comfortable tonight.”

Smiling back at him, Verim took a few moments to think. The man was right. What was he so concerned about? It didn’t matter what body he had—he’d accomplished many great things and none of that had anything to do with his gender. He knew exactly who he was and that person was someone that people respected. Whoever would treat him differently if they knew the truth, was not worth his time. “You know what? It doesn’t matter what they think,” he told him. “My father would want nothing less than for me to live in fear. Even if it’s solely to spite him, we’re going to have a memorable night.”

Reviro’s smile widened. “That’s the guy I know,” he said, before stepping over to the door, not a single trace of hesitation in his step—this was exactly how he knew him too, scaling the thin line between confidence and stupidity.

It was exactly why he’d grown to like him. And maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t so bad to do the same every now and then. Picking up his empty cup, he followed after the other man and back into the banquet hall. “I need a refill on this,” he told his friend, holding up the cup. “But maybe this time I’ll pour it myself.”

His friend barely spared him a smile, quickly darting off to wave at the first male guard he could spot.

Right. This was going to be a disastrous night. But it would be great.

[possiamo-andare]

Just You (3)

JJ x Reader x Rafe (love triangle)

MASTERLIST

word count: 5k

a/n: I can't believe it's been eight months since I updated this fic. y'all are probably dead by now and this will prolly get no notes lmao but I finally wrote the next chapter and it's so good in my opinion so please don't be too mad. enjoy!

~

Y/N needed complete silence when she was reading. If she didn’t, it was almost impossible for her to even read one page. As a child, in a room full of other screaming children, Y/N found it almost impossible to read. Most of her teachers misread this difficulty with an inability to read, which was not the case. This miscommunication actually worked in Y/N’s favour because the extra attention resulted in a greater love for reading. Y/N soon found herself reading everyday and even found it hard to put down a book. When she couldn’t get a physical copy of a book, she then went online and delved into a world where people created their own worlds and fantasies for their readers. Reading had become one of Y/N’s favourite hobbies and she could do it for hours.

Unfortunately, tonight was different. At around 6pm, just as Y/N picked up a book to read, loud music began to play from a distance. At first, Y/N tried to ignore it but soon, like mentioned before, the music began to get louder, and Y/N could not focus on the words before her. The more she tried to focus, the more distracted she became by the music. Soon, she could focus on nothing but the blaring music coming from across the street. Finally, after ten minutes of pure agony, Y/N got up from her bed and stormed down the stairs of her home. Her face is red with anger, and she desperately wants to know who the hell thinks playing loud music on a Tuesday night is acceptable. Unfortunately, she knows the answer the second she enters her kitchen.

Her parents are laughing with each other as they make their favourite snack. Every night, her parents make their favourite foods together as a way to unwind and talk about their day. Sometimes they shared it with Y/N and her siblings but on nights where her siblings were out with their friends and Y/N was the only one home, they usually just spent time with each other. Y/N hesitated for a moment and smiled to herself, thinking about how sweet her parents truly are. She wonders if the person she marries will have this type of relationship with her. She wonders, years from now, how she will look back on her time in OBX. She hopes she looks back with fondness. The moment is ruined though because her mother quickly looks up from the stove, a toothy grin on her face.

“Hello darling.” Y/N’s mother chirps. She reads her daughter's distraught face and since she can hear the music too, she knows why her daughter is upset. Without even letting Y/N speak, she answers the question clearly in her daughter's mind. “Ward Cameron’s son, Rafe, is throwing a party across the street. You can go if you want.”

Y/N snorts. “That boy has been rudely staring at me since we got here, and you think I should go to his house?”

This time, Y/N’s father turns around from the cabinet. “I hear JJ’s gonna be there.” There’s a small smirk on his face and it instantly grabs Y/N’s attention.

She tried to brush it off. “Well, I don��t really like loud music.”

Y/N’s mother scoffs. “Yes, you do.”

Y/N nods, tucking her hair behind her ears. She knows that if there’s even a hint of JJ being at the party, she wants to go. “You’re right, I do.”

Y/N had not been to a party in years. The last time she had it was in her first year of high school. She had just moved to that new school only weeks before and had made only a couple of friends. The friends she did make were nice and invited her to a party. The party was okay, and she enjoyed herself, but she was very awkward because she barely knew anyone. She promised that from now on, she would only go to parties where she knew more than one person. Now, she found herself breaking that rule just to see JJ.

Since Y/N was in her pajamas, she ran back up to her room to change. She didn’t want to waste too much time picking out clothes to wear so she quickly looked through her closet and found a white sundress with small blue flowers decorating the material. She had never worn this dress and, when she first bought it, was unsure if she liked it because it was shorter than what she was used to but now, she was glad she did.

She lay her sundress on her bed for a moment and turned to her mirror, where she kept a cabinet full of makeup. Before she even put on any makeup, she looked back up in the mirror for the second time. As she finally had a chance to breathe, she realized her breath was unsteady and her hands were shaking. It was hard for Y/N to put herself out there. Most times, she was afraid of the rejection, or even at the fact that the friends she did have would be gone. But she remembered her parents' words. She was to stay in OBX for the rest of the year. She would make friends here. She would have a life here. With a deep breath, Y/N began to get ready for the night.

~

Y/N keeps fidgeting with her hair. She knows the more she fidgets, the more upset she’ll be with how she looks but she seriously can’t help it. She only does this when she’s extremely nervous and she knows why. She’s two feet away from Rafe’s front door and the music has somehow gotten louder. It’s almost as if he’s continuously trying to play the music louder to get her attention. Of course, she knows that to not be true, but still, Y/N had realized that in the last twenty minutes since she had decided to get ready for the party and walked across the street, the music had indeed gotten louder. She rolled her eyes as she approached the door, the loud music getting annoying. At this rate, Rafe Cameron would be deaf by the time he was 30. Y/N pretended not to care if he went deaf at all, but a tiny voice inside her head told her that she had to care for him because no one else would.

With a deep breath, she knocks on the door. She doesn’t think anyone would hear it because of how loud the music is but it’s worth a try. She was raised to have manners and would not just enter someone’s house before knocking.

To her surprise, only a few moments later, the doorknob twisted quickly and someone on the other end of the door opened it. It was as if someone had been patiently waiting by the door all night, opening it in hopes that she would come. Of course, she knew this to not be true because the person who greeted her was none other than Rafe Cameron. And he found her annoying.

Y/N couldn’t help but admit how delicious he looked. He wasn’t dressed in his usual preppy attire, no. He wore these ripped, distressed black jeans and a fitted white shirt with a baseball cap to match. It wasn’t necessarily his style that had him looking so delightful but his face. He seemed very relaxed. In fact, this was the most relaxed she’d ever seen him. His usual straight posture was now more curled and casual. His face, which had always been pale and gray, was now filled with colour. He wore a cute blush across his cheeks and nose, and on top of the blush was a patch of light brown freckles here and there. Y/N figured he must’ve been in the sun all day. That and he was also high out of his mind.

“Y/N…” He trailed, his eyes glancing at her dress momentarily before returning to her face. Y/N feels a little self conscious under his gaze. She wasn’t exactly confident in her outfit tonight and he seemed, for the first time in forever, more confident than her. “You, um, you’re - you’re very…”

She involuntarily snickers, not realizing she’s doing it until Rafe hears it. His face changes into a dark frown and she has a deep need to apologize. He was probably just trying to be polite, and Y/N must’ve caught him just as his high was reaching its climax. “I’m what exactly?”

Rafe rolls his eyes, knowing that she’s teasing him. “You’re not invited.”

Well, she can’t say she exactly feels welcome right now, standing at the threshold of his door. He still hasn’t even let her in.

Y/N scoffs, her feelings only hurt a little. Although he didn’t look preppy, he looked just as douchy. “Well, your music’s so loud it could wake the dead. Maybe if you didn’t want uninvited people to come, don’t make it so obvious that you’re having a party.”

Rafe scoffs this time. “Aw, I’m sorry. Did I interrupt your bedtime?” He takes a swig of his beer bottle and Y/N almost forgets that he’s obviously been drinking. “Were you having a little read before you went to bed? Lemme guess; you were re-reading the Vagina Diaries for the tenth time?”

Y/N’s chest twinges with pain just a little, knowing that the book was on her bookshelf with a worn-out spine. He seemed to know her very well, but it only angered her because he got the answer right. “It’s actually Vagina Monologues, but nice try. I guess for someone who hasn’t opened a book in their life, the Vagina Monologues would be interesting.”

Rafe chuckles and she has a small urge to kiss the corners of his smile. Thankfully, once she swallows harshly, the urge disappears. “Just come in and don’t put your hippie feet anywhere near my furniture.” He finally steps aside, and Y/N takes that as the kindest invitation she’s gonna get from him.

“You mean, your parents' furniture.” She puts one foot in front of the other and tries to remember how to walk. Although it may not seem like it, she’s nervous. She’s not too good with crowds. As she passes Rafe, she can smell his cologne and she feel as though she might faint. For such an annoying boy, he really was intoxicating.

Rafe is not given enough time to throw a snide remark back in her face because someone has entered Y/N and Rafe’s little bubble. It’s another very handsome boy but this time, he’s sweet. He’s wearing preppy clothes (cargo shorts and a pink polo shirt - big shocker there) but he’s not preppy at all when he introduces himself.

“Hey! I’m Kelso; nice to meet ya!” He gives Y/N a half hug because his other hand is holding a beer, but she still gets the sentiment that he’s friendly. His hand respectfully lays on Y/N’s shoulder and Y/N actually hugs him back even though that’s not her thing with strangers.

“I’m Y/N, and it’s nice to meet you too!”

She watches as his brows go from a relaxed arch to a surprised arch instantly. It seems that whatever she has said has caught him by surprise. “Oh? You’re Y/N?” Kelso looks to Rafe for a moment, his eyes narrowing in amusement. Rafe tries to indirectly tell him to stop by flipping him off, but it only encourages Kelso. “I guess we have you to thank for this incredible party then!”

Y/N frowns, turning around to look at Rafe. They’re still in the entryway of his house and she hasn’t so much as taken in her surroundings, but this seems too important to ignore. What does Kelso mean? Did Rafe throw this party in hopes that she’d come? There was no way. Doesn’t Rafe find her completely annoying and obnoxious? If so, why would Kelso say such a thing?

“He’s joking right?” Y/N tries to confirm from Rafe but by his meek smile and his cheeks that have only gotten redder since she entered his home, she knows there’s some truth in what Kelso is saying.

Rafe shrugs, trying to come up with a lie. He had confided in Kelso as a way to relieve the stress that liking Y/N has caused but instead, Kelso just had to mess it up. “Well, not exactly.” His mouth is forming a lie before his brain can even properly think of one. “I mentioned to Kelso that you’ve probably never been to a party in OBX, so he must’ve thought I threw it for you.”

Y/N nods, confused as to why she feels a little sad. For some reason, a little part of her hoped that Rafe had thrown a party for her to notice him but alas, it had all been a misunderstanding. “Oh, well, okay.”

Except it wasn’t a misunderstanding at all. Rafe had told Kelso that the only reason he was throwing this party was for Y/N to notice him in a new light. He knew she thought he was just another annoying preppy Kook and he wanted to change that. He thought maybe, just maybe, if she had fun tonight with him, she’d finally start to see him as he truly was, a loveable dork. Unfortunately, that seems to be ruined now.

Before any more words can be exchanged, someone yells for Y/N. She instantly looks to the crowd of people in Rafe's backyard and sees JJ and Pope. The door to his backyard is open so the yelling is clear and not muddled by a barrier. They seemed to have been yelling for a while because they looked exasperated. Y/N watches as JJ stands from his lawn chair and motions for her to come sit beside them. She smiles for one of the first times tonight and nods, the pressure on her chest lifting when she sees her two friends. She wanted to take to Rafe later and get the full story because she had a feeling, he wasn’t telling her the complete truth, but she wanted to greet her friends first. She’d get to Rafe later. For now, she wanted to relax.

When Y/N departed from Rafe and Kelso, awkwardly waving goodbye before maneuvering to the back of Rafe’s house, Kelso spoke first.

“Dude, why didn’t you tell me she didn’t know this party was for her?”

Rafe glared at his friend. “You really think I’d tell her that. Now she probably thinks I’m even more creepy than before.”

Kelso rolls his eyes at how dramatic his friend was. “You didn’t see her reaction, bro. I don’t know if she even knows it herself, but she definitely likes you.”

Rafe rolls his eyes. He doesn’t allow for his hope to rise because he knows it’s not true. He can’t let himself have any more hope that the new girl in OBX would want to have anything to do with him. She can’t like him because no girl like her ever has. So, instead, he steals glances at her for the rest of the night and hopes to God he can get high enough to forget about the beautiful girl across the street.

~

Y/N tried to enjoy herself, she really did. And to JJ’s credit, he tried to help her relax and have some fun. She drank the beer that was offered to her, danced with JJ and Pope, and even took two puffs of JJ’s joint. But, although she felt thoroughly buzzed, Rafe never left her mind. She tried to throw a few sneaky glances his way the entire night, but she couldn’t find him. She even left her spot beside JJ and pretended to get a refill on his nasty beer just to see if she could spot Rafe. Unfortunately, he was nowhere to be seen. At first, she thought it was just because she wasn’t looking hard enough but soon, after three whole hours of not seeing Rafe even once, she realized he was avoiding her. And if he was avoiding her, it meant that he was embarrassed from their conversation at the beginning of the night. Which meant that he lied, and he had in fact thrown this party just for her.

This revelation crept into her mind slowly throughout the night but when it finally sunk in, she was speechless. She didn’t know how to react. Sure, there was a slim chance that he had been telling the truth but the less she saw of Rafe at his own party, the more she realized that he had lied to her.

JJ had noticed how off Y/N seemed. When they had seen each other earlier in the day for her surfing lessons, he had made a fool out of himself. They had been practising for a few hours before they both called it quits, deciding to pick it back up the next day. Before departing, JJ offered her ice cream for a hard day's work, and she gladly accepted. They both ordered the same flavour (mint chocolate chip - he swore they were soulmates because of this) and ate it as they talked. When they were both finally finished, Y/N went to hug him goodbye, but he instead extended his hand awkwardly for her to shake. She seemed slightly embarrassed, but he was even more so. He had wanted to hug her but didn’t want to without her permission, so he thought a handshake was the safe bet. Unfortunately, he thought wrong and now, that awkward interaction was burned into the back of his mind. He was worried that’s why Y/N seemed so detached, barely speaking. When she had gone to refill her cup, JJ looked to Pope for advice. He had never been so needy for a girl’s approval before and since Pope seemed to want everyone to like him, JJ thought he’d give the best advice.

“So,” JJ sighs and he finishes telling the story of their awkward interaction. “Do you think that’s why she’s been so quiet?”

Pope snorted. “JJ, I think it’s just you. I doubt she even remembers it.”

Although his friend tried his best to reassure JJ, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was burdening Y/N’s mind. But, before JJ could continue his conversation with Pope, Y/N reappeared with a glass full of beer and a somber face. The topic was not brought up again.

JJ had been right though. Something was burdening Y/N’s mind. It’s not everyday that a girl finds out a boy who she thought saw her as a bothersome girl actually saw her as much more. It’s a difficult experience to relate to and not a problem Y/N thought she would have. Apparently, Rafe was better at hiding his true feelings than she thought. She had always assumed that when she’d catch him peeking through his window, watching her ride her bike with her brothers or bask in the sun as she read another book, he was judging her. She assumed he was making fun of her and her hippie family. And when they had first met in the main office of her school, it only solidified in her mind that he saw her as a joke. But instead, he might’ve actually liked her. You clearly only watch people in that way if you hate them or like them and since it clearly wasn’t hate…

No. She wouldn’t let her mind go there. Besides, even if he liked her, who was to say if she even liked him? He had been nothing but rude to her, even when he had technically invited her to this party. He called her a hippie (not offensive by itself but when Rafe said it, it might as well have been), watched her from his window with a scowl, and was a complete snob. If Y/N knew what was good for her, she’d stay far, far away from Rafe and anyone he associated with. But Y/N was a dumb teenage girl and curiosity got the better of her. She needed to find another good excuse to go inside and search one last time for Rafe.

The excuse presented itself when JJ made a small remark of how thirsty he was. Y/N jumped at the opportunity to refill his drink, even though he offered to go himself. But she insisted, taking his cup from his hands before he could argue any longer. As she made her way back inside, her eyes looking for the handsome brunette, Pope leaned closer to JJ.

“See? And you thought she didn’t like you?”

JJ nodded, feeling better about the whole ordeal. Unfortunately, if he knew why she truly had wanted to venture inside, it’s doubtful he would have felt better. He probably would’ve felt worse. But he didn’t know, and he wouldn’t know for a while longer.

Y/N first made her way to Rafe’s huge kitchen where all the kegs were lined up. Half of them were already empty but the night was coming to a close and soon, half the party would leave and only Rafe’s closest friends would stick around until 5am. It was midnight now and although she didn’t have a curfew, she wanted to be home by at least 1am. So, as she filled only JJ’s cup, she decided against filling her own. She didn’t want to be too tipsy in case she ran into Rafe. Although, by this time, she thought it was very unlikely that she’d ever see him.

Just as that thought crossed her mind though, another person entered the kitchen. Y/N recognized him immediately. It was Topper. They had never interacted much, just a brief wave whenever she’d pass his house when she rode her bike. If he was outside, which he had only been once or twice, he’d wave, and she’d wave back. Other than that, they never spoke. Until now.

He stood beside her, filling two glasses with beer. His blond hair was wet and sticking to his forehead, but his hands were so full, and he was so drunk he didn’t seem to notice. Y/N had seen Rafe’s pool, but she did not find herself on that side of his house for many reasons (the pool was on the other side of the backyard, she didn’t bring a bathing suit, and her mind was busy with more important matters). Topper seemed to be struggling with refilling two cups, his hands shaking just a little. Y/N instantly registered that he needed help and decided that busying herself with assisting Topper would help take her mind off Rafe.

“Here,” Y/N offered, setting JJ’s cup down on the counter. “Let me help.” She takes one of the glasses from Topper and begins to fill it up, all the while keeping an eye on Topper to make sure he doesn’t spill the other cup.

“Thanks.” He mumbles, swaying back and forth to the music that is blaring from somewhere inside Rafe’s house. Y/N can’t help but smile a little at this giddy boy who would otherwise be embarrassed for acting so weird if he was not so drunk.

Unfortunately, not even helping Topper can keep Y/N’s mind off Rafe. She wonders that since Rafe must’ve told Kelso something about her, Rafe could’ve confided in Topper too. From the gossip that JJ had told her, Topper used to date Sarah but even after they broke up, Rafe and Topper remained friends. So maybe, just maybe, Rafe had said something to Topper about her? She figured even if she asked Topper, it would never get back to Rafe. Topper was clearly drunk and would not remember the conversation he had with Y/N. No harm, no foul. Right?

Unfortunately, that idea was quickly squashed because just as she began to open her mouth, someone else entered the room. It was Rafe.

Rafe had skillfully avoided Y/N all night, while still stealing glancing her way. He never noticed that she too had been looking for him. He was so nervous that he’d eventually bump into her that he would make Kelso check every room before he entered it. Unfortunately, Kelso was drunk by midnight and could no longer help Rafe. Rafe tried to let it go, figuring you were probably gone by now. So, he asked Topper to refill his cup as he helped Kelso into his mom’s car. But, when Topper still hadn’t returned by the time Rafe entered his home, he thought there was no harm in checking up on him. Apparently, there was a lot of harm in that.

And now, there they stood, facing each other for the first time since the beginning of the night. Rafe wanted to turn back around and leave but he had always made a fool of himself, and he knew that if he awkwardly left without acknowledging Y/N, she’d surely think even lower of him. So, as soon as their eyes made contact, Rafe awkwardly raised his hand and waved. He could feel the awkward smile painted across his face and Y/N seemed to mimic him.

“Hey.” He squeaked out, taking both cups from Topper before speaking to his friend. He figured the less he looked at Y/N, the less awkward he would feel. He was wrong. “Top, why don’t you lie down on the couch. I’ll bring the beers soon.”

Topper only nodded, slowly making his way out of the kitchen, leaving his friend and Y/N in there alone. Alone for the first time since the beginning of the night. Both their pairs of eyes were trained on their drinks; Y/N was clutching onto JJ’s and Rafe held one for him and one for Topper. No one spoke for a while. Y/N had waited all night to get Rafe alone, just so they could talk and now she didn’t know what to say. She awkwardly shifted the weight in her feet, unable to think of the first thing she wanted to say. They were only five feet apart, but they might as well have been worlds away.

Rafe was in agony and decided to get it over with. He spoke first. “So, are you enjoying the party?” He spoke so formally, as if he was chatting with his grandmother, but he was too uncomfortable to speak any other way.

Y/N nodded, relieved he had taken the first leap forward. “Um, yeah. Never knew that kids could throw parties like this.”

Rafe smiled for a moment, happy that she was so amazed at his dullest party of the year. His heart fluttered at the thought of Y/N dancing in that beautiful white dress with him. Holding onto him as they swayed to the music, pulling her close. Close enough to -

“So, Rafe, I wanted to talk about earlier.” Y/N began, playing with the skin around her nails. It was a nervous tick she had yet to get rid of.

Those eight words destroyed Rafe. At that moment, he knew she had not believed his original lie. He wasn’t too surprised though. He was a shitty liar and Y/N seemed to pick on everything he did. Although he would rather rip his fingernails off one by one than have this uncomfortable conversation with Y/N, he knew he’d have to give her the answers she was looking for. Even if that meant embarrassing himself.

Finally, he nodded. “Um, uh, okay. What’s up?”

Y/N began to speak but before she could get a coherent sentence out, someone else entered the kitchen, making a bunch of noise as he did. Their eyes met instantly and when she recognized who he was, her back straightened slightly as if she had been caught in a salacious act. It was JJ.

“Y/N, what's taking so long?” He stops just after he enters the kitchen and as soon as his eyes go to Rafe, his smile drops. He’s confused beyond belief. He doesn’t know why Y/N is speaking to Rafe. He didn’t even know they knew each other. “Uh, am I interrupting something?”

Y/N forces a smile, glancing at Rafe briefly before walking past him and towards JJ. She hands JJ his cup and he gladly takes it, a look of pure confusion written on his face. “No, Rafe was just asking me if I am enjoying my first party in Outer Banks.”

JJ's eyes shift to Rafe, whose face is pure white. “Really? How… kind?”

Y/N knows JJ is suspicious so to curve his focus back on her, she reaches up to cup one side of his face. JJ’s eyes instantly fall back onto her, a small smile back on his lips. “Walk me home, JJ. I’m getting tired.”

JJ nods sweetly, placing his hand over the one that’s cupping his cheek. “Sure. Go get your stuff and I’ll meet you at the front of the house.”

Y/N looks back to Rafe one more time, a small smile on her face. Rafe pushes his lips into a thin line, nodding goodbye to her. She does the same, leaving the kitchen as quietly as she entered. Y/N’s afraid to leave JJ and Rafe alone but she really has no reason to stay any longer. She hopes that she can get Rafe alone soon so they can have an actual conversation. Tonight, was kind of a disaster but being with JJ and having such a fun time with him made up for it. She knows JJ is the type of guy she should be with. He’s fun and carefree and they’re too much alike to not get along. Even though this is all true and she does have feelings for JJ, there is a part of her that yearns for Rafe. And that part scares her.

Once Y/N is gone, JJ’s smile drops, and he turns back to Rafe with a menacing glare. “Look, I don’t know what your game is here, but I really like Y/N. We both know you’re not her type. So do both of us a favour and leave her alone.”

And with that, JJ was gone too. Leaving Rafe alone.

Even with all these people in his house, Rafe never felt more alone.

~

taglist: @tovvaa @canyoubuymetoast @multisimpinghoe (sorry to these queens for waiting so long lmaooo)

[angryschnauzer]

Waited So Long

Summary: As an actress in her mid 20′s you had been lucky enough to get the roles you pushed yourself for, but one role in particular needs a scene you have no experience with; a sex scene, and you co-star is surprised to discover you are still a virgin even though you are in your mid 20′s. But he’s willing to help with whatever you need.

Trope: Friends to Lovers, Co-stars to Lovers Pairing: Henry Cavill x Female Reader

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, loss of virginity, oral sex, fingering, vaginal sex, protection/condoms. 

I no longer operate a tag list, but instead pop over and follow @angryschnauzerwrites​ and put that blog onto notifications. You’ll then get an alert each time i post a new story.

Masterlist got so long all the links broke, so you can now find all my previous stories on my AO3 LINK HERE

Waited So Long 

Henry sat at the large table, grinning and laughing as the rest of the cast had finished reading through the latest episode’s script. Everyone was in a good mood and that was down to the fact that tomorrow’s shooting schedule required just you and Henry, meaning that everyone else got a three day weekend. But… but you were just staring at the script. You knew it had been coming, but to see the words in front of you, the stage descriptions, it was overwhelming. 

 The Netflix special was ten episodes of a sci-fi series, and you played an alien warrior. Henry was the plucky human astronaut  that had been aboard the International Space Station when it had been sucked into a black hole and had ended up on the far side of the universe. Eight episodes into the filming schedule and the pivotal sex scene was about to be included, and that’s what was clouding every thought in your mind. 

 You were far from naive, you had no issue with your costume or even the nudity - you were after all painted purple with patches of ‘scales’ in strategic parts - but it was the fact you had a small secret that was making you so nervous; you hadn’t ever actually had sex. 

 You were already mid 20’s, you’d been through university and stage school, worked on broadway and the London west end, you’d modelled for artists and had always put your career first. Relationships had just fizzled away after the first couple of dates because of your acting schedule… and that is how you found yourself not only a virgin in her mid 20’s, but one that had never even laid in bed with a partner, been close, felt the weight of a lover on top of them… anything at all.

 The producers called it a wrap for the read through, and the sounds of chairs scraping on the floor filled the room. As people shot their empty plastic bottles into the trash you felt your stomach lurch, quickly leaving the room, finding the disabled bathroom and running to the toilet, the contents of your stomach very quickly coming back up. 

 Finally empty, you sat on the floor and rested your head against the wall, your mind spinning. A quiet knock at the door made you open one eye, watching as the unlocked door swung open and a familiar face peered round;

 “Are you ok?” Henry asked, his bulk almost filling the entire doorway; “You’re not coming down with something?”

 You shook your head;

 “No, just umm… nerves… haha…” you laughed rather awkwardly.

 Stepping into the room, he sat against the opposite wall, leaning forwards to hand you his half finished bottle of water;

 “... about tomorrow?”

 Taking a sip of water you nodded;

 “Bit pathetic really, isn’t it?”

 “Not at all. Is this your first onscreen love scene?”

 “Yeah”

 He sat forwards, resting his hands on his knees as he thought pensively for a moment;

 “Are you going out with the crew tonight?”

 “No. Can’t really face it”

 “How about I drive us back to the house and order some chinese and talk things through? This isn’t my first love scene but I remember the nerves. We’ll get everything out in the open so the air is clear ready for tomorrow, yeah?”

 Nodding, you watched as he stood, holding out his hand for you and helping you to your feet.

 -

 The drive back to the shared house that most of the main cast members were staying at was fun, Henry having linked his Spotify to the stereo, firing up a playlist of old school pop with an eclectic mix of metal. By the time he rolled into the large driveway that the rental house had, you were both yelling out the words, laughing and grinning. 

 Once inside you excused yourselves to go shower, twenty minutes later finding Henry in the kitchen. His hair was wet and he wore a t-shirt and pair of sweatpants as he looked over the chinese menu;

 “What do you fancy?” he asked and you tried not to blurt out what you were thinking, because even though you may be a virgin, your thoughts were far from pure. 

 Looking over the list he had already scribbled down, you pointed to a couple of dishes, watching as he added them to the list before dialling for delivery. 

 -

 Pushing your plate away you stretched out and groaned. Still shovelling egg fried rice into his mouth, Henry pointed his fork at your plate;

 “Roo dun?” he asked, his cheeks full like a hamster.

 “Help yourself!”

 He eagerly dumped the rest of your lemon chicken on top of his rice, jabbing at the pieces;

 “Hey, about tomorrow… you really don’t need to worry. It’s just going to be you and me, and three other people”

 Taking a sip of your beer you quietly snorted;

 “That’s still three more people that would ‘usually’ be there… and four more than i’ve ever experienced”

 He paused, setting his fork down and you could see his mind working through what you said;

 “So uhh, it's been a while…?”

 “To be honest, it's been never”

 It was like something short circuited in his brain;

 “Never never? Like, never?”

 Putting your beer down, you fiddled with the label;

 “I’m a virgin. I’ve never had sex. I’ve never even slept with anyone”

 There was an awkward silence, the air tense before Henry finally spoke;

 “Is it a religious thing?”

 You shook your head;

 “No. I just have been so wrapped up in studying or working or being on stage… I would get two dates into a relationship and some big opportunity would come up. I would get blinkered and end up ghosting guys without even realising. Ambition got in the way of a love life…”

 Henry took a deep breath;

 “Ok. So you know i’ll be covered up… down there i mean… and so will you… so there won’t be any slips or anything. I won’t be inside you or anything…”

 Cocking an eyebrow you scoffed;

 “Henry… I know you won’t be inside me. We studied sex scenes at stage school. They gave us the practical run down of what happens. It's lots of rubbing and grunting. I just need to go watch some porn again to figure out what to grunt…” you took a sip of your beer; “... and you probably wouldn’t fit inside me anyway… it’s not like anything has ever breached that hole”

 Henry sat with a wide eyed look on his face, his jaw hanging slack;

 “So you… you’ve never even pleasured yourself?”

 “Of course i have!” you threw a prawn cracker at him; “I’ve just never…. You know… had internal stimulation…”

 “Wow” he muttered quietly, shifting in his seat; “So…” he started again but then stopped, his brain seemingly unable to string a coherent sentence together. 

 Finally he cleared his throat;

 “So there’s never been any on set stuff?”

 “Nope. Usually I run through my lines for the next day, check the schedule, the set and makeup call times. I guess the one bonus about all of this is that there aren’t any lines for tomorrow”

 You both knew that the scene had been set up without dialogue, mostly from Netflix’s instruction because any erotic scenes can cause havoc with sensors in some countries when it comes to subtitles. 

 “What did you want to do now? Do you want an early night? Watch a movie? Talk? You want me to lay on top of you?” he asked, picking his now cold plate of food up and dumping the leftovers in the waste disposal.

 “Yes” you replied far too quickly.

 “Which part?”

 “All of it”

 -

 With the TV in the main living area out of action thanks to a rather rambunctious game of ping pong a few weeks ago, the pair of you had moved to Henry’s room. An hour into the movie and it was far from your thoughts, instead you were in the bizarre situation where Henry was literally laying on top of you as you had a conversation. The feeling of his weight pressing against you was at first a surprise, he was thick with muscles for the role, and with probably 200lbs of human pressing you against the mattress you had found you would have to shift now and again. Finally you found a position that was comfortable, and as you chatted about life you found your legs had naturally parted to allow him to lay between them, his stomach pressing to yours, his face inches from your own;

 “This is literally how we’ll be spending our day tomorrow you realise” he quietly pointed out

 “But there will be grunting too… plus some thrusting… it’ll probably get your ass in the gossip magazines as best ass in hollywood again” you teased him, knowing that the nudity he’d done in previous shows and movies had earned him a lot of attention thanks to his rather peachy behind.

 Henry pushed up a little, poking a finger to your breasts;

 “Oh yeah? Well these will earn you a whole legion of fans, you have an awesome pair of tits”

 “Pfft, they’re just average”

 “They’re good enough to give me a semi” he countered with a crooked grin on his face, using his finger to just tug at your neckline, exposing a tiny bit more skin.

 You shifted beneath him without even realising you were doing so and that’s when you felt it, a growing hardness pressing against your abdomen. Your eyes went wide as you stared up at him, the mix of emotions showing on his face;

 “I’ll get off…”

“No!” you instinctively wrapped your legs around his, leaning your head up and pressed a kiss to his lips. He let out a grunt of surprise and you felt him tense, before he softened, his lips following yours as you pulled rested your head back on the duvet beneath you.

 His lips were soft and plump, and as he rocked his hips against you again this time you felt he was getting harder. Instinctively you gasped, and he took the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. You may not have had sex before but you had kissed, and your tongue danced with his as hands started to explore each others bodies, fingers seeking out skin as t-shirts were tugged up to expose heated skin. 

 Pulling your shirt over your head he admired your naked chest, the pattern on your top having hidden the fact you were without a bra;

 “Oh yeah, even purple these’ll be popular”

 With a smirk on his lips and a wicked grin on his face he lowered his mouth to your naked torso, taking one peaked nipple between his lips to suck on it, his hand cupping your other breast. As he worked his magic your body responded, the wetness between your thighs soaking through your clothing, the subtle movements of your bodies rubbing together making your arousal almost uncontrollable. Winding your hands into his dark locks, the soft hair curled around your fingers as he looked at you, pressing a trail of kisses down your sternum until he reached your leggings;

 “Can i continue?” he asked quietly, watching as you nodded your head;

 “Yes… please…”

 As he pulled your leggings off he pressed kisses to the heated skin that he revealed, never breaking eye contact;

 “So here’s what i’m going to do… first i’m going to get you to cum with my tongue, i’ll slip it just a little inside you so you can get used to the feeling, then i’ll gently tease you with my fingers; find that g-spot of yours as i’ve been assured a g-spot orgasm is completely different from a clitoral orgasm…

 “Fuck…”

 “Yes, that’s the third thing…” he grinned at you; “Once you’re nice and ready, and really really wet i’m going to make love to you… so you can practice your moans for tomorrow…”

 He shed you of the rest of your clothing before softly grasping your legs and pulling them apart, revealing your virgin core. Tender fingers parted your petals before his tongue swiped a wide stripe through them, and the sound that emerged from your throat startled even you.

 “You like that?”

 “Yes… oh my god, please do that again!”

 “With pleasure!”

 “The pleasure is all mine…”

 “Henry?”

 “Yes?”

 “Please shut up and get on with it” you grinned at him, before he dipped his face back between your legs and went to town. His tongue was seemingly everywhere, grunts and moans as he worked you open, and when he slipped his tongue into the ring of muscle at your entrance your eyes shot open and you giggle-moaned at the unfamiliar but not unpleasant experience. When a finger found your clit you relaxed again, laying back and enjoying the pleasure he was selflessly giving you. 

 Gripping at the bedcovers you found your hips started to move on their own, only for Henry to press a strong arm across your stomach to hold you in place, pushing you closer and closer to your orgasm. When it finally did hit your body reacted instinctively; your legs wrapping themselves around his head, your back arching and your fingers almost tearing through the fabric of the sheets, before you finally went limp. As your mind was nothing but stars a muffled voice came through the haze of your post orgasmic bliss;

 “If i could get some oxygen…”

 Not realising your legs were still firmly wrapped around Henry’s head, you quickly released him, his head popping up from beneath your thighs. His cheeks were flushed red and his chin was wet, and it took you a moment to realise you were the cause for the wetness. He wiped his chin with the back of his hand before standing and grabbing a bottle of water to pass to you;

 “You’re gonna need to rehydrate after that…”

 You went to take the bottle from him but the bulging tent in his sweatpants distracted you, your hand pausing mid air before Henry laughed;

 “Drink first, then you can play with it”

 “Oh… I… “

 “Drink”

 Taking the bottle you sipped at the tepid liquid as he lay on the bed beside you. When you’d finished he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you to his firm chest before kissing you softly;

 “Are you ready for round two?”

 “Can i touch you too?”

 A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth before he nodded, watching as you eased the elastic of his sweats down and his heavy cock sprang free. Your jaw fell as you took in his size, but before you could overthink it he pressed a kiss to your lips as his hands wandered between your thighs. 

 Reaching out you wrapped your fingers around him as his own slid between your folds, dancing over your clit before he pressed a single digit inside you, your eyes going wide and your hand squeezing him involuntarily. 

 “Does that feel good?”

 You nodded;

 “Yes, a little strange that i’m not in control, but i think that’s what makes it even more exciting”

 “That’s good… now, how about another finger?”

 Nodding again you bit your lip as he slid a second finger in alongside the first, your eager hole stretching around his digits. Instinctively you had started to move your hand up and down his shaft, doing little more than gentle movements, but soon the pair of you got into a rhythm, working together to leave your breaths in time with the others.

 “Doing so well for me… so wet. Shall we try a third?”

 Nodding you let out a quiet ‘uh-huh’ as he repositioned his hand, carefully sliding three fingers into your soaked velvet channel, and the noise that came from your throat was base and full of sin. When his thumb started to rub against your clit while he continued to work three fingers inside you the spring in your belly snapped and you were coming hard, shaking around his hand.

 As you came down from your high Henry carefully withdrew his fingers, salaciously licking them clean before he got off the bed and went to the drawer in the little cabinet, pulling out a condom.

 “Oh… i’m on the pill…” you blurted out; “You don’t have to… In fact i’d really like to feel you, you know… bare…”

 Tearing the packet open he grinned at you;

 “I get that… but you’re gonna be in makeup in less than 12 hours” he knelt on the bed as he started to roll the latex down his angry dick.

 “Umm yeah?”

 “Well its something you’d only know from experience, but it can take up to 24 hours for a guys cum to fully leak out of you”

 “Oh…”

 “And your costume and makeup gets pretty intimate, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah…”

 “So you want Iris in makeup to be able to smell my cum dripping out of you when she’s painting your snatch purple tomorrow?” he said with a grin on his face, rolling the condom down fully before positioning himself between your legs

 “I gotta be honest, the idea that someone realises i’ve had sex is kinda kinky” you craned your neck up to kiss him as you felt his dick notch at the entrance to your cunt; “But you’re the expert here”

 “That i am… Let me show you just how much of an expert…”

 With a smooth roll of his hips he pushed into you and the feeling was indescribable, in fact it was so overwhelming you screwed your eyes shut, willing the tears not to fall, but Henry simply held still, kissing each one of your tears as they fell down your cheeks until you were ready.

 “Breathe babe… just breathe… it’s overwhelming i know… i understand…”

 Opening your eyes you gazed up at him, smiling as he leaned down and kissed you softly.

 “Are you ok?”

 “Y-yeah…”

 “You want me to keep going?”

 “Please… oh god please”

 “Gonna make you feel so good”

 He carefully pulled his hips back before pushing into you again, seemingly getting deeper before pulling out again. Soon you were lost in the moment, feelings both physical and emotionally almost overwhelming you again as your body was taken to new heights of pleasure, Henry seemingly knowing exactly how to make the moment special for you.

 Your body reacted in the best way, the tight spring inside you curling ever tighter, until with just the right roll of his hips he tipped you over the edge and you were coming hard, your body squeezing him so tight he knew he’d found heaven whilst you saw stars. 

 Whilst you were in the haze of your orgasm you heard the most beautiful moans, and felt as Henry came deep within you. As soon as he stopped shaking he wrapped his arms around you tightly, pressing his face to your neck as he cradled the back of your head with his massive hand, pressing soft kisses to your heated skin as you both basked in the aftershocks of your intense orgasms.

 Finally Henry pushed himself up to bear his weight on one arm, sliding his other hand between your bodies to hold the condom in place as he carefully pulled out of you;

 “I’m just gonna get rid of this… stay here”

 You watched his peachy ass as he quickly mad his way to the bathroom, hearing water running before he reappeared moments later with a damp washcloth. Sitting delicately beside you he carefully cleaned you up, and when he was finished he pulled the duvet over your naked body as he quickly got rid of the cloth and joined you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and pulling you to his chest;

 “Are you ok?”

 “I think so… Did i make a mess of your bed?”

 “No. No blood”

 “Really? I thought…”

 “If you’re relaxed enough you may not bleed… or you may have simply ruptured your hymen just through every day life. A fall, tampons, strenuous exercise… didn’t you do a horseriding movie a couple of years back?”

 “Y-yeah…” you cast your mind back; “Now you mention it, there was one really long day when i’d spent all day shooting a galloping scene with jumps… i just thought my period was coming early, and i had this really dull ache in my lower back… i guess that makes sense now…”

 “So… you’re good? Feel ok about filming tomorrow?”

 You nodded;

 “Yeah, i’m good. Thank you” You looked up at him and saw he was chewing his lip nervously; “What?”

 “I was wondering… you know… after we’ve finished filming tomorrow… did you want to go to dinner with me?”

 “Like a date?”

 “Yeah… hey i understand if you say no… that you want to concentrate on your role and acting…”

 “No! I mean yes!” you took a deep breath; “I’d love to go to dinner with you”

 He pressed a kiss to your cheek before you settled on his chest, his strong heartbeat beating beneath your ear as you let your eyelids drop and you fell asleep in his arms.

 -

 Iris tutted as you fidgeted;

 “Will you stand still? I need to get these scales on!”

 “Sorry Iris… just a little sore…”

 The older woman looked up at you as she held the patch of purple scales prosthetic and grinned;

 “Well its about time” she nodded to the various bottles and jars that were on the counter; “Make sure you take the coconut oil when you leave tonight, it’ll help get the adhesive off without pulling on any bruises”

 You looked down at Iris and smiled;

 “Thanks Iris”

 “Was it worth it?”

 “So worth it”