#but hopefully at least one or two catch your eye! or...ear. as it were

[melchinafan]

Asldfjs good point, I forget that tumblr's got a read more function half the time. XD Excessive excited hyperfixation rambling is GO

I appreciate your efforts to get all the tracks named, despite all the variation across sources and occasional missing info! (I don't know Japanese either used to have katakana and hiragana memorized but I've forgotten like half of each, so I can't comment on accuracy, but I at least definitely appreciate the internal consistency!)

I wish you the best of luck with both getting your diagnosis sorted, and with the brain-wrangling afterward! Being locked in creative block sucks. D: Also time is fake, what even is keeping track of years, time blindness is apparently an ADHD symptom it's all good. It's great that new folks are still discovering and getting into fun old shows like YYH! And massive kudos to your girlfriend, it sounds like she was SO right in recommending it to you (and why). And I am DELIGHTED that you did indeed make a "same picture" meme in that Hiei/Shadow comparison post, that's perfect. XD

I can't remember who all I've drawn from YYH...I think I've maybe tried (and struggled with) Yusuke? But I've definitely drawn Karasu a fair bit, and I know I've drawn Yukina a few times, too. (I think the two of them I can almost draw from memory, but would likely miss a few details.) And maybe Jin a bit too? In any case, I wish us both luck eventually mustering the creative energy to draw them again, and I'd love to see yours when you do! <3

With crochet, I can do like...the basic single chain, and that's about it. XD I struggle with reading stitches/figuring out what to pick up in order to do more than that. And intellectually I understand the process of the "single crochet" stitch (because it creates a "single" stack), but like. Instinctively speaking, why's it two loops?? It feels like such a misnomer, haha. I also struggle horribly with yarn tension...I keep making things waaaay too tight. Which is also not necessarily wise for knitting, but at least the needle's there the whole time to at least keep it relatively consistent between stitches. >_>' But fingers crossed that you also have the energy to start crocheting again soon, and that diving back in is super fun! (Also, what sort of things have you made, if you don't mind me asking? There's a shockingly huge variety of things you can turn a long bit of string into. :D) Re: patternmaking, I'd initially just started out with relatively simple alterations to existing patterns, like swapping out an increase type I didn't like doing for one I did. But then I ran into a couple small patterns that were like...good for what they were, but I realized were waaaay different from how I'd approach that same thing? So "alterations" turned into "start from scratch (and get stuck in forever-testing-and-retesting ad nauseam)." I'm slow as hell from the perfectionism to find the Exact Right Methods, but I think I'll be satisfied when I finally finish getting these patterns sorted out someday!

ASdlfkj AHAHAHAHA oh man some of those memes genuinely got me cackling aloud. XD Thank you for linking that tag, it was great to go through. I don't have a good setup to make a gif meme, but there's one point where Genkai floats and flips Yusuke upside down, and I can't help but see it as the shark "GET ROTATED IDIOT" meme. Though Yusuke gets rolled along the ground so often, there's a LOT of clips you could use of him for it. XD (Oh yeah, I think you mentioned in there once or twice that Hiei is a cat, and absolutely agree 100% yes, I wrote out a whole list for a friend once pointing out the big and small cat-like things he does. And it is WAY easier to read him if you're familiar with reading cat body language.) Also, that's an excellent reason to start collecting the frames and absolutely fair to end up stuck every now and then just making heart eyes once Hiei starts showing up. (Also also, the friend I mentioned is science-y and also loves Kurama, so I took like...20+ screenshots of that one scene where he's in a labcoat in his quiet after-school club, 'cause friend hadn't seen past the Dark Tournament yet either, and it was so hard to find screenshots of. I know it'll take a while, since the series is so long, but I look forward to when you get to that scene so I can link them even better quality stills! <3)

Best of luck finding good sites to host the scripts on, and wise to plan to set it up in more than one place! (I also suggest, once you get it going, popping each page's link into the Wayback Machine as you go, as a third/backup source!)

I'll go ahead and edit the post to credit you, then! That'll give more folks the chance to potentially see the other cool collections you're sorting out. :3

AND YES, THE DANCE MIX DIALOGUE IS SO GOOD. I do think all the CD dialogue stuff collectively kinda feels like a very slight AU/minor divergence from the anime (as the anime is from the manga, from what I know of the differences between them still gotta go read it...). But it's all so funny, and I love the little bits of character development Hiei got in them. Like how he's SUCH a smug little shit when he brags to Yusuke about his own song being the one that was requested. Look at him go, learning how to socialize outside of battle! And arguing the way you'd expect between bickering brothers!! (That drawn-out "damare~" especially. Such a brat, but also said in a tone I'd never expect from him during the anime. I'm so proud. Now go tell Yukina you're her brother, she CLEARLY knows and already loves you dearly, you goober.) OH OH OH and when Kuwabara messes with everyone and acts like he died to a rain of spears! There's nothing I could catch that specifically indicates it on the CD, but. I can't help thinking that Kurama was in on it with him, and was just acting stressed out to help sell the joke, like he has a few times in the anime. >:D I'm also delighted to hear that "computer destruction" is apparently among the list of similarities Hiei has with Shadow. That's so funny. XD I could absolutely see Hiei going to "hack" a computer with his sword.

And yeah, there's a handful of other YYH characters I like a lot, but. Hiei and Kurama are definitely at the top of my list for this series, hahaha. (I'm kiiinda tempted to also recommend Yu-Gi-Oh!, if you haven't seen it? Primarily because Bakura (all fuckin' three of him) parallels so well with Kurama (all two of him). I'm not sure Marik fits quite as well into the archetype Hiei and Shadow do wrong color scheme at the least, but he's still fun and spiky and stabby and trauma and a delight. And with both characters you get the same "there is no straight explanation for ANY of this"...though that's arguably also the series as a whole. XD It probably won't hit quite as hard as Kurahi did, but I think there's a decent bit of overlap you might still enjoy. I will say the manga storyline does a bit of a better job sticking with a cohesive plot order, since the anime caught up while it was in progress and had to buy time with a couple original arcs that don't flow as smoothly. It also skipped adapting the early chapters, which were generally darker and had (Yami) Bakura's initial intro as a delightful TTRPG DM sadistic nightmare man, which bookends nicely with him ending the series in almost exactly the same way. But both versions are good if you're interested in watching/reading, and no worries if not!)

Alas, I personally don't tend to click much with fan playlists (my tastes are possibly too narrow/I have trouble seeing a given song in the same way as indicated? I dunno D:), but I love that it's a thing people do! I don't generally sort out proper series/character playlists for myself either, but I do absolutely once in a while listen to a song and go "oh shit, this really fits [thing/person(s)]." I'm blanking right now on whether I've run across any songs that are actually fitting for YYH, but I do remember one that like. I wish the lyrics worked, because the title/chorus line is SO WEIRDLY PERFECT?? Tears of Pearls by Savage Garden is just. It seems like it should be amazing for Yukina, but it's a romantic type song and she's got such ace/aro vibes...asldkjf oh hell I just checked the lyrics and I'd been mishearing, it's "stolen pearls" not "stone and pearls" so OOPS it might actually fit completely for Hiei and Kurama, if you assume Hiei can make hiruiseki? So uh. That is an actual proper song recommendation, I guess. XD

If I think of/run across any more, I'll be sure to let you know! (Off the top of my head, maybe Turn Back the Clock by Steam Powered Giraffe, if you want a heartbreaking song from the perspective of Youko? an immortal/long-lived entity who is learning about the concept of humans having short life spans? Oh fuck I just hurt MY heart thinking about it as Yukina meeting a human kid and watching them grow up and oh nooooo I mean she understands the concepts of offspring and death unlike the robot singing it but OH NOOO Or maybe Kiss From a Rose by Seal, for a mellow Hiei POV-ish song? Oops now I'm just glancing through all the music I have in case anything else catches my eye OH OH and Horror of Our Love by Ludo, as...I think mostly Kurama's POV, though some verses might fit Hiei's POV better? Obligatory Oingo Boingo recommendation since Kuwabara has their poster on his wall: everything maybe No Spill Blood for Youko, or No One Lives Forever and Dead Man's Party specifically for Yusuke but also kinda just in general? Oooh and I Will Never Die by Delta Rae for Kurama. Okay yeah that's everything that stuck out at a glance in my music folder. XD)

What a small 'net! I saw a reblog of your normalize post, & your avatar caught my eye. So I figured I'd peek at your blog in case you had more shiny stuff to see, & noticed you encourage folks tag you in Kurama & Hiei stuff. I pinned in the back of my head that, after checking out your stuff, I should ask if you want a link to skit translations from the Dance Mix CD—then saw YOU'RE the one who made the beautifully-organized Yu Yu Jukebox! That helped me figure out what CDs I wanted to buy! :D <3

yoo hell yeah!! im glad that helped you out!! its always nice to see the things i make can be useful :3 and nice that my kurama icon is catching the eye of fellow yyh fans hehe!

yu yu hakusho is a huuuge hyperfixation of mine, but my adhd has been making me struggle with focusing on doing the creative stuff i wanna do (like drawing and writing), so ive been instead doing a shit ton of other things revolving around yyh- like collecting the music and making the yu yu jukebox channel, ripping frames to post and organize them on my sideblog @reikai-records , and ive also been working on making a dialogue transcript for the dub (still unsure where to put it online when im done with that tho, atm i just have it on google docs, not too far on it)!

i cant remember if ive encountered translations for the skits of the dance mix cd though, id def love to see that!

[xlatrina]

Show Me

Tags: 16(+)* (*Minor kissing, nothing crazy fr), Gender Neutral Reader (despite canon), Words of Affirmation/Sweet Talk, basically fluff

Not proofread so… hopefully no typos or clunky sentences anywhere lol. Mr. Crawling is being “high-maintenance,” as always, lol. After playing this game for HOURS, I just couldn’t help but crave more content. Buuuutt, given that the game is more or less finished (as far as I understand), I simply had no other choice but to do as writers who play VNs do and WRITE. This is my first “Canon x Reader” fic (well, formally, at least) too, so… please be kind 😅 Anywho, enjoy!

$$$ $$$ $$$

Mr. Crawling leaps into your arms with such speed that the bed smacks into the wall. A shake travels through the room, jostling the single photo hanging from the gray, textured surface. His hair falls against your skin, the bed sinking in a bit as you feel his body drag over your own. Every breath that reaches your face is cool, no thanks to the room you’re in.

“I enjoy you,” He chirps. His head comes to rest in the crook of your neck. The smell of metal fills your nose, and you scowl for a moment before your face relaxes. It’s a smell you'll simply have to get used to, especially now that you���ve promised to be his.

His body ever so slightly warms yours, though the blankets do more of the work. “I enjoy you,” he says again. “You enjoy me?”

“I enjoy you, Mr. Crawling.” You loosely run a hand through his dark hair. Surprisingly, your fingers only get caught about twice, and the small knots aren’t too hard to pull apart.

“You lots enjoy me?” Suddenly, the cold draft flying through hits your neck as Mr. Crawling lifts his head. Though, you never see his eyes: only the growing festers that conveniently disappear right at his bangs. He tenses in your arms, and you’d think the air froze him or something if it weren’t for his soft, whistling breaths. Mustering up a little smile, you cup his face with your hands.

“I lots enjoy you.” He giggles like a little schoolgirl, his grin stretching from ear to ear.

“Show!” He shouts.

“Huh?”

“I enjoy you, you enjoy me. Am happy lots you come here. I lots enjoy you being together me. You say you lots enjoy me, Ϛօ show!” He bursts each sentence out right after the other, and the bed squeaks from his shifting body as his arms reach around your torso. Show… Ah, that’s what he meant. He wants you to prove it.

For a moment, you frown. How exactly were you supposed to “prove” something like that?

Noticing your face, Mr. Crawling frowns as well. “You ok? No want to do?”

You shake your head and smile reassuringly. “I want to do. I can show you.” This shouldn’t be too hard. In fact, it’ll be easy… so long as Mr. Crawling doesn’t decide to use those sharp teeth of his.

Pulling him forward by his face, you two stare at each other. You focus on Mr. Crawling —first, his gaze, somewhere behind that curtain of hair, and then his lips. They’re ever so slightly purple, just like his cheeks that have become a little warmer while pressed against your palms.

Your eyelids lower as your lips graze his, the small sensation alone sending a shock throughout your body. Is Mr. Crawling feeling the same way? He’s tense all over again. “You ok?” You ask.

Quietly, he responds, “Am ok.”

You close your eyes, breathing in that slightly metallic smell. You exhale, and then pull Mr. Crawling firmly into your kiss. He remains stiff for a while until a muffled sound escapes him. His arms wrap around you tighter. He finally allows his body to fall limp against yours, and just as this happens, you pull back. A little smack bounces through the room. Lying upon your chest, Mr. Crawling drags himself a little closer to your face. Seizing the opportunity, one hand reaches to brush across his hair and the other remains on his cheek. Your thumb rubs against his face in slow, winding circles. Then, you pull his face even closer, catching him into a trap as you lock lips again. Both of you hum contentedly, the sound only accompanied by smacks and the fluorescent light buzzing above. Suckling his bottom lip, you tease him with a strong pull. He sighs into your kiss, and when you finally free him, he chases you.

“… Finished?” He asks. He seems to be pouting a little, already missing the sensation.

“Finished. You now know I enjoy you?” You ask. More or less: do you believe me now?

Mr. Crawling pauses, and then he giggles —much louder than before! He plops his head into the crook of your neck again.

“I know now,” he says. You bring your hand up to join the other in stroking his hair.

The two of you lie together this way for a while, enjoying the silence and the closeness. That is, until you eventually fall asleep and Mr. Crawling leaves your embrace to watch from afar.

[the-iceni-bitch]

Lookin’ at You Got Me Thinkin’ Nonsense

Relationship: Lloyd Hansen (le grand homme) x female!reader (coquinette)

Words: ~2k

Summary: you don’t like when Lloyd leaves you alone…

Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content (m and f receiving oral sex, public sex, public nudity, multiple orgasms), mention of crime, Bobby and Kitten cameo, SMUT!!

A/N: Did you miss these two as much as I did?

I am no longer doing taglists so if you want to stay up to date on my fics follow my sideblog, @the-iceni-library , and turn on notifications!

Lloyd groaned when you came around his tongue for what must have been the third time, rubbing his face against your pussy and grinning as he slurped up the sweet juices that were gushing out of you. The lower half of his face was soaked, but that was exactly what he wanted. Hopefully your scent would stay on his skin all through the damn meeting he had to go to.

“Ah shit!” He had lost track of time, catching a view of the clock over your heaving breasts and rising from between your thighs with a snarl. “Damn Newark meeting. Ma coquette, I have to go.”

The only answer you could give him was a pathetic whimper, your naked body trembling on the chaise as your system struggled to recover from the incredible pleasure he had wrung out of you. Damn if the sight didn’t make him want to blow off his job, but August and Nick were already grumbling about him missing three other meetings over the past month due to his need to help you “settle in” to your new life at his estate and penthouse. Your eyes fluttered when he kissed your cheek before rising to his feet, the way you murmured under your breath in French and stretched your body before rolling onto your side making it even harder for him to leave.

“No one goes in while I’m gone,” Lloyd ran a hand through his hair when he stepped into the hall and closed the door behind him, scowling at Baizen when it seemed like he wasn’t paying attention. “That includes you. I hear anyone disturbed her and they’ll have to answer to me.”

He waited for the dumbass to nod before striding off. Sometimes he really wished they could clone the giant, Everett, because every fucking other idiot that worked for them seemed to barely know how to do their damn job. His mood was hardly better by the time he stormed into the meeting room, fighting the urge to flip August off when the huge bastard gave him a smug grin, as if to give condescending approval for Lloyd actually showing up to a meeting. This had better be short. At least he knew this woman was a professional, though her partner looked remarkably aggressive for a meeting.

All the news was good news. The incursions they had been making into the opposition’s business had been going well, with territories gained all over the tri-state area. Lloyd managed to focus once they got into the details of planning their next assault, eager to encroach further onto the old men’s operations. There was some kind of commotion in the hall, but none of them worried about it. At least not until the doors burst open and you stumbled in.

You were still completely naked except for the sapphire choker Lloyd had given you that morning. Poor Baizen was trailing after you and holding out a blanket, his eyes full of pleading for you to cover yourself even as he did his best not to actually look at your nude body. As soon as he realized it was you he straightened up in his seat, a low chuckle full of affection rumbling through his chest when you zeroed in on him immediately and pouted. Every single eye fixed on him when you started strutting towards him. He could feel the annoyance radiating off of August and the bemusement coming from Nick.

“Mon loup…” when you reached him you flounced down on his lap with a small huff, nibbling on his ear and playing with the collar of his shirt as you ignored everyone else. “You left me all alone…”

“I’m so sorry, amour,” this time he did flip August off when he heard the man clear his throat in irritation. “I have to be at this meeting, ma petite chatte. These nice people I work with need my advice.”

The partner of the woman they’d been organizing with snorted at that, and Lloyd found himself growing even more fond of her when she elbowed the man in the gut before smiling warmly at you and him. Sure, she looked a little bit unhinged, but Lloyd decided he liked that about her. He also liked the way she introduced herself and her partner to you like you were just as important as the other men in the room, though he gave a snort of his own that a man who looked so goddamn lethal was named “Bobby”.

You just gave the strangers a curious look before turning back to Lloyd, whining as you pressed soft kisses all along the length of his jaw. All you cared about right now was getting your much needed attention from your man, your brain still fuzzy from all the orgasms he had given you.

“But you didn’t even let me take care of you, Daddy,” you giggled when he growled at the pet name, thoroughly enjoying how much he seemed to give into your desires ever since you had first started calling him that. “Makes me feel so bad when I don’t get to take care of you…”

“Coquine…” Lloyd groaned when your hand that wasn’t toying with his collar slipped between the two of you and squeezed his growing bulge. “How the fuck am I supposed to say no to you, you little minx…”

Lloyd glanced around the conference table as you continued to squirm in his lap, though he didn’t really know why, he was going to do whatever he wanted anyway. He ignored August’s glower and gave the man a cocky wink, focusing on you once more as Nick began going over the fine details of their upcoming assault.

“Go on, ma douce,” Lloyd peppered soft kisses all over your cheeks and nose, biting your bottom lip with a playful growl when you started to undo his belt. “Such a good girl, you always take such good care of me, amour.”

“Thank you, Daddy,” you giggled when he licked the indents his teeth had left in your lip, giving him a quick peck before sliding to the floor between his spread legs as you dragged down his zipper, humming to yourself as you drew him out of his pants.

The sound of the meeting faded away as you focused on your task. You gripping the base of his shaft in one hand as you used the other to trace every inch of him, a single, manicured finger dragging over each ridge and vein with reverent affection. He was so heavy and warm. You couldn’t resist rubbing his tip all over your cheeks and chin as you lost yourself in his masculine scent. When you finally flicked your tongue out to taste him you heard him hiss, smiling and gazing up at him through your lashes before wrapping your lips around his tip and sucking gently, your eyes fluttering as the distinct taste of him filled your mouth.

You decided you want to see if you could pull all of his focus back to you. After weeks of being with him constantly you had been spoiled to expect his constant attention, and the fact that you were not receiving it now was making you feel cranky. So you concentrated your oral ministrations on his sensitive head, knowing how quickly he gave into his baser instincts when you stimulated him so directly. Your lips quirked in a smile around him when you saw the muscles of abdomen twitch, making sure your expression was appropriately innocent when he gave you an inquisitive glance before trying to contribute to the meeting again.

But you couldn’t have that. You vibrated the head of his cock with a needy whine, one of your hands stroking his length while your other reached lower to fondle his heavy balls. There was a thump on the table above your head and you knew it was Lloyd’s fist. Your man couldn’t control himself when you tongued his slit and played with his sac at the same time, a fact that was giving you no small measure of satisfaction at the moment. A thin dribble of precum leaked from his slit and your eyes rolled back in your head, your lips tightening around his tip in an effort to draw out even more of his pleasure.

When you heard him groan you redoubled your efforts, dragging the tip of your tongue along his frenulum a few times before swallowing him to the root. The sensation of his cock sliding down your throat and you gently tugging on his balls did it for Lloyd’s control, his hand finding the back of your head as he leaned back in his seat to watch you fuck your own face on his cock. He couldn’t give a single fuck about the meeting when he got a look at you, so goddamn pretty with your lips stretched obscenely wide and your eyes glazed over making him twitch against your tongue. Goddamn, you were so fucking perfect.

“That’s it, ma bonne petite fille,” Lloyd stopped caring about the meeting entirely when you gently scraped your teeth along his shaft, hissing through his teeth and planting his feet firmly on the floor on either side of your body as he gazed at you with pure passion. “Daddy’s gonna take over, hold on.”

You whimpered at the first snap of his hips against your face, flattening your tongue and breathing through your nose as you kept your eyes fixed on his. They were bright and eager, full of preening satisfaction at finally being the center of his attention again. Drool started to leak from the corners of your mouth with each plunge of his cock down your gullet, your saliva mixing with his precum to create a sticky, pearly mess that dripped down your chin and onto your tits. Lloyd couldn’t get enough of the sight of you, vowing to buy you another sparkly something as you swallowed around the head of his dick and pressed your thumb against his perineum.

“Jesus fucking Christ!” He couldn’t contain his shout when he felt his balls pull tight, holding your head still as he ground against your face and pumped his cum down your eager throat. “That’s a good girl. Take it, ma coquinette.”

The way you refused to release him until you’d milked every single drop from his balls had his thick thighs shaking, his fist slamming into the table again when you swirled your tongue around his excessively sensitive tip over and over until he was almost in pain. “Greedy fucking girl,” it came out in a huff when you gave his softening length one final suckle before letting him slide from between your lips, collapsing back in his seat and chuckling warmly while you hummed to yourself and kissed along his happy trail.

“I don’t want to fucking hear it, Walker,” Lloyd didn’t even have to look at the man to know he was about to make some annoying comment, cupping your jaw in his hands after you tucked him back in and kissing every inch of your face and neck while you crawled back into his lap. Once you had settled he turned half his attention back to the meeting, one hand trailing over the bare expanse of your spine while he drummed the fingers of the other on the table. “The plans are fucking done, aren’t they? So quit being a bitch. Besides,” he kissed your temple when you tucked your face into his shoulder. “Don’t think I’ll be able to leave ma petite pute alone during meetings anymore.”

[seonghwaddict]

say my name — song mingi

request by anon. "This is my first request to anyone ever so forgive me if this is..idk incoherent 😭. But lately I've been thinking about a short smut story where the reader (fem) being a backup dancer for ATEEZ and Mingi catching feelings for her over time and then end up fucking in the dressing room and maybe one of the members walks in idk have fun with it. 🤭"

idol!song mingi x backup dancer!reader. genre. smut. warnings. smut below the cut, explicit sexual content minors dni, fingering, some dirty talk, use of petnames (doll, baby), slight dom/sub dynamics, dom!mingi, swearing, intentional lowercase. please let me know if i missed anything. wc. 1.2k.

lilo's notes. i'm back!! this is the first request i've received, hopefully i did it justice. by the time i finished writing i forgot that anonie asked it it's possible for another member to walk in and join.... sorry about that. but anyways, i hope you all enjoyed this!!

listening to. perceive by doma cyno.

masterlist

“fuck, baby,” a hand swiped through your folds, gathering the almost embarrassing amount of arousal from your core. “you’re so wet.”

you like to think your day started off like every other day. you woke up at 7 am, ate breakfast, got ready for the day and arrived at kq two hours later. you went through some choreographies with the other backup dancers until 4 pm, left to run some errands, and then returned to practice some more on your own.

since your first day at the company only a few months ago, you’d always take a few hours after your shift to perfect your art more than you already have. sometimes you’d spend those hours with the other dancers who showed up for the same reason, but surprisingly, a lot of the time it was mingi who found himself practising his group’s or his own choreography alongside you.

the first few times felt awkward, to say the least.

you yourself weren’t really one to strike up conversations with random people, and considering he was part of the group you had to dance for, you were afraid of slipping up and losing your job. but, eventually, he talked to you. after that, things were easier—you’d joke around, take breaks to go eat something, help each other and sometimes even stop what you were working on to choreograph something together; just the two of you.

it was only a month or two later that you caught yourself looking at him in a less than friendly but rather heated way… and much to your surprise, you slowly started noticing his own lustful glances—lips red from biting them and hooded eyes tracking your every movement. but, alas, you weren’t one for first moves.

considering all of this, you weren’t surprised at the position you were currently in; on the floor of the practice room, legs hooked around his as you sat between them, mingi’s lips against the side of your neck, one arm around your waist and the other with his hand inside your panties (your shorts had been discarded long ago, along with his shirt) as he faced you to lthe mirror, forcing you to watch his every movement.

he swiped his middle finger through your folds, gathering some arousal and then slowly circling your swollen clit. a breathy whimper escaped your lips as you threw your head back on his shoulder. the combined sensation of his finger around your nub and his lips kissing and sucking on the sensitive skin of your neck sent another wave of wetness gushing out of you.

“eyes on the mirror, doll,” he moved his head up to whisper right into your ear with that husky voice of his, gently biting down on your earlobe. he removed his hand from your pussy for a moment, letting your legs down to slip your panties off before hooking them over his thighs again. you were practically dripping as he exposed you. “i want you to see what i’m doing, watch how your beautiful little body reacts to me.”

reluctantly, you nodded and pulled yourself off his shoulder, eyes zeroing in on the arousal smeared between your thighs. a moan escaped your lips as he gave your clit a particularly firm tug, his ring and middle finger pressed against the skin on either side of it and pinching gently. you tried holding back your following moans, but the quiver of your thighs gave you away. though, you felt better knowing you weren’t the only enjoying this so much, his erection strained against his pants and poked at your ass. 

his movements against your heat were slow but precise, eliciting pretty little whimpers and moans from you. the hand wrapped around the front of your waist moved up, featherlight touches leaving a trail of goosebumps behind as he gently brushes his fingers over the fabric of your bra. then he nudge the straps down your shoulder and let the bra cups fall, his hand immediately going to tweak at your nipples. 

“f-fuck…” you cursed quietly, trying your best to stop your eyes from fluttering shirt from all the pleasure and keep your eyes on the mirror as he asked.

two of his large fingers circled your entrance, massaging it before slowly pushing in. jaw slack at the stinging stretch, you watched as they disappeared into your vagina, breath stuttering when he curved them just enough to brush against the right spot. your hand snaked it’s way behind his head, tugging on his hair gently.

“oh, look, doll,” you heard him groan behind you, feeling his smirk against your neck, “look at how well you take my fingers…”

and with that he slowly began pumping his fingers in and out of you, digits firmly pressing against the spongey spot inside you each time, increasing his speed more and more as his thumb continue circling your clit. he watched your face in the mirror, analysing each twitch of your muscles and each flutter of your lashes to perfectly adjust his movements. in any other context, you perhaps would’ve appreciated how perceptive he was. but right now you wanted nothing more than to savour the feeling of his fingers, anticipating how his cock would feel in you. 

before you knew it, the familiar knot of an orgasm began tightening in your abdomen, your body squirming.

“shit, mingi…” his name tumbled out of your mouth in a drawl and his movement stopped for a moment.l before he continued at a more rigorous pace. you could’ve sworn you felt his erection twitch behind you. 

“say that again,” he growled, “say my name.”

the rough scratch of his voice made you impossibly wetter as you obeyed quickly. “mingi, o-oh…”

after that it didn’t take much longer for you to snap, coming down hard on his fingers, muscles jerking and back arching as his hand clamped over your mouth to muffle your noises.

“keep it down, baby, someone might walk in and see you at my mercy.”

he pulled his fingers out of you and caressed your thighs. it didn’t take to long for you to calm down from your high, chest heaving with deep breaths as he whispered praises in your ear. despite the fact you just had an orgasm, you knew you still wanted more.

“i-i need… i need you,” you tried, face flushed as you hinted the best you could.

“hm?” he chuckled. “and what exactly do you need of me?”

with a huff, you grinded yourself back against him, against his cock, but he moved his hands to grip your hips firmly and stop you. 

“that won’t do,” he shook his head. “i want you to use your words, doll. can you do that for me, baby?”

a moment of silence passed between you. it was awkward or anything, a teasing grin on his face as he looked you in the eyes through the mirror, your brows furrowed before you sighed.

“god, mingi, i need your cock in me.”

he grinned, hands tugging your shirt and bra off before sitting back on his knees and turning you around. mingi leaned over you, cupping your chin before kissing you with a bruising hardness. once he broke the kiss, a malicious spark shined in his sharp eyes.

“anything for my doll.”

network. @cromernet

[fishfooddude]

To Chicago and Beyond

Carmy Beratto x Reader

Long distance becomes short distance- so short you're within arm's reach of each other.

The Bear MasterList

Directory

Long-distance relationships take a lot of work. Carmy needed to go back to Chicago, and as much as you wanted to go with him, you couldn’t just walk away from your job like Carmy had. The two of you were making it work. He’d tried his best to update you about The Beef and his plans to make The Bear a reality, and you tried your best to keep him at least semi-sane. 

“Hey- I got good news for you.” you heard a voice say from behind you. Looking over your shoulder, you saw one of the HR guys you weren’t too familiar with. “What’s up?” you asked, minimizing the window on your computer, “Congrats, your transfer request was approved. You should get a call from the Chicago office this afternoon to discuss the details. You’ll be very missed, Y/N. Working with you all these years was a pleasure and an honor. The Chicago office is lucky.” he grinned before walking out of your cubicle.

“Hey baby- I’m in the middle of somethin’. Can I call you back?” you could hear the stress coming through the speaker as he spoke. You nodded before quickly explaining, “I got the transfer approved. I should be in Chicago for Friends and Family- I love you very much. Call me when you can, babe.” 

“Wait- you’re c-comin’?” Carmy’s voice cracked as he asked, finally feeling a weight fall from his shoulders. He heard you say mmhmm, but then his ears turned off. Friends and Family needed to be perfect. If you were going to be there, everything had to be perfect. Carmy couldn’t disappoint you after how supportive you’d been. He was spiraling at the thought of you coming into the restaurant. The Beef was a gross, run-down sandwich shop, but Carmy saw the potential. If he wanted Mikey’s legacy to continue, The Bear needed to be everything he wanted- everything that he and Mikey dreamed of. 

“You can pick me up, right Bear?” you asked hopefully as you nervously played with the hem of your blouse. “Of course… of course… I gotta go- bye baby, I love you.” you could tell he was in his head about what you’d told him. You chuckled, “Bear? Everything is going to be okay. I love you too, bye.”

The following weeks were filled with packing and mailing boxes from New York to Chicago, saying goodbye to your friends and family, and questioning whether this was a good idea. But amidst the nerves and goodbyes, there was an undeniable sense of excitement for the new beginning. Moving in together and meeting his family for the first time was a big step for both of you. The nerves passed when you walked toward baggage claim and saw Carmy sitting on a bench.

“Carmy!” you squealed involuntarily as you got within earshot of where he sat. He looked up and quickly scanned the area surrounding him before his eyes landed on you. The relief and joy were observable as he scrambled to his feet and met you halfway. You threw your arms around his neck. Carmy chuckled and wrapped his arms around your waist. 

“Hi, baby.” Carmy greeted before you smashed your lips into his, catching him off guard. He kissed you back and pulled you closer to his body. Begrudgingly, you separated your lips from Carmy’s and smiled up at him, quickly blinking away the happy tears that began pooling in your eyes, “Carmy. Take me back to our place before we get charged for indecent exposure.”

[goblinontour]

Might As Well Just Fuck

you and alex shag after his football game

warnings: smut, piv, public sex

word count: 2.5k

You sat on the sidelines of the college football field, pretending to watch the game but your eyes never strayed from Alex. Your Alex. The boy who had captured your heart and inflamed your desires. Aly, as you called him. But just in private, not around anybody else. 

The way you couldn’t get enough of each other was almost embarrassing. It had gotten so bad that you had to sneak out at night just to find some privacy, cause neither of you wanted your parents to hear you fuck. So you usually ended up in the local park. Yeah, the fucking park, in the middle of the night. 

But right now, your private fantasies had to wait, as you focused on the field where Alex was running around with his mates.

He was a sight to behold. For you at least. And hopefully only you. His green t-shirt clung to his body, drenched in sweat, outlining every muscle. The colour of the shirt highlighted his skin and dark hair, which was sticking up in all directions from the effort. He had this casual, messy look that drove you wild. His shorts, maybe a size too small, kept riding up his thighs every few minutes, revealing glimpses of the soft skin on the insides of his thighs. Each time they did, he’d stop, readjust them, only for them to ride back up again. It was like a teasing game, one you were more than willing to play.

You couldn’t tear your eyes away from him. The way the muscles in his legs flexed as he ran after the stupid ball, the sheen of sweat making his skin glisten in the fluorescent lights that lined the field, the blush on his cheeks from the physical exertion. It was all too perfect.

Occasionally, he’d even lift his t-shirt to wipe the sweat off his face, and you’d catch sight of his toned abdomen, the lines of his muscles slick. The sight made you squirm in your seat. The sweat dripped down his chest and his pecs were flushed. You wanted to touch them, lick them, suck on his nipples. He loved that.

The game dragged on, and you found yourself growing more impatient by the minute. Watching Alex was both a blessing and a curse. He was so close yet so untouchable. You were already getting tired of just looking and not being able to feel him.

Thank god a whistle blew, signalling a short break. You watched as Alex jogged towards you, a grin spreading across his face. His hair was damp with sweat, sticking to his forehead, and his shirt clung to his body. He looked irresistible.

Without warning, he bent down and kissed you, more like sticking his tongue down your throat. The intensity made your head spin, your hands instinctively grabbing at his sweat-slicked shirt. His hands roamed over your back, pulling you closer, deepening the kiss until you had to pull away to breathe.

Everyone around was already used to the two of you. They didn’t care. Not really. But they still liked to tease sometimes.

“Oi, Alex!” one of the boys called out, laughing. “Get a room, mate!”

Alex pulled away just enough to yell back, “Eh, fuck off!” His voice carried the perfect blend of humour and irritation. Then he turned his attention back to you, his classic smirk plastered across his face.

“Are you bored already?” he asked, his voice a low murmur that sent shivers down your spine. His breath was hot against your lips, and you could feel the heat radiating from his body.

“I like watching you.” you said, but he could see right through it. He knew you too well.

“Wanna shag after?” he proposed, taking a seat next to you on the bench. He snatched the water bottle from between your legs and took a long drink, his Adam's apple bobbing with each gulp. A single drop of water escaped, trailing down his chin to his neck.

“What? Here?” you asked. The thought of doing something so bold, so reckless…Fuck. Could he be done already?

“Why not?” he replied, a mischievous glint in his eyes. He leaned in close, his breath hot against your ear. “I know a spot. No one will see.”

You felt a rush of adrenaline. The idea was crazy, but…It’s not like it would have been the first time you did it in public. His eyes sparkled with that familiar daring look. He didn’t have to try and convince you. 

“Okay.” you whispered. 

He grinned, giving you another quick kiss before standing up. “Just wait. I’ll be quick.” 

You watched as he jogged back to the field, your heart pounding. The anticipation was almost too much, but you knew it would be worth the wait. You tried to focus on the game, but your mind kept wandering to the thought of Alex’s hands on you, his body against yours. Time seemed to slow down, each minute stretching into an eternity. You watched him move. Every glance he sent your way made your pulse quicken, your skin tingle.

Finally, the game ended. Alex’s team was celebrating a win, but you had eyes only for him. As the final whistle blew, Alex wasted no time. He jogged over to you, his face flushed, hair still wild, and a satisfied grin on his lips. The closer he got, the more you noticed the details: the way his t-shirt was completely soaked through now, clinging to his torso. And his shorts were still annoyingly riding up, giving you one last peek at the smooth skin of his inner thighs.

“Ready?” he asked, his voice slightly breathless, but still carrying that playful tone that made your heart race.

You nodded. He took your hand, pulling you to your feet, and led you away from the field. The others watched with knowing smiles, but no one said a word. This was your moment, and nothing was going to stop you from seizing it.

He led you to a secluded spot behind the bleachers, hidden from view. As much as possible anyway. He turned to you, his eyes almost sparkling from the adrenaline, and pulled you into his arms.

The kiss that followed was a clash of heat and urgency, a desperate mess of lips and tongues. His hands roamed over your body, igniting every nerve, every inch of skin. You clung to him, your fingers digging into his back, pulling him closer.

“Here?” you whispered, your voice breathless, your body trembling.  

“Here.” he confirmed, his voice a growl of need. “Right now.”

He started grinding against you, the hardness of his erection pressing insistently through the thin fabric of his shorts. You could feel every contour of him, the heat and firmness driving you wild. His hands squeezed your ass, fingers slipping inside the back pocket of your jean shorts. He pulled out a condom, a small metallic packet that you always kept handy. Just in case.

He fumbled with the button of your shorts, cursing under his breath. “I hate these. They never cooperate.” he muttered, frustration evident in his voice as the button resisted his efforts.

“You said they make my ass look good.” you teased. 

“Yeah, they do.” he said, a dirty smile curling on his lips. The compliment sent a shiver down your spine, but you couldn't wait any longer. As he struggled with the button, you reached down and pushed down his shorts along with his underwear, just enough for his hard cock to spring free.

Your hands were shaking with anticipation as you tore open the condom packet and positioned the rubber at his tip. With ease, as you’d done many, many times, you rolled the condom down his length, feeling the tension in his body as you did so. He was thick and ready, every inch of him throbbing with need. You couldn't help but admire the way he looked, the way he felt. You could barely contain your own need as you touched him. 

You grasped his cock, feeling the smooth, velvety skin beneath your fingers through the thin latex. He hissed through his teeth, his jaw clenched, struggling to keep quiet. The sensation of your hands on him was almost too much combined with all this pent up energy he had in him, and he had to bite his lip to stop from making any sound that might give you away.

His hands continued their exploration, one slipping beneath the waistband of your shorts to caress the curve of your ass, while the other worked on the stubborn button. With a final tug, it came loose, and he swiftly pulled down your zipper. You felt a rush of cool air against your skin as he slid your shorts down, his fingers grazing your thighs. 

“Ready?” you whispered, your voice barely audible, your breath hot against his ear.

“Always.” he replied, his voice a low growl, impatient. 

He started to turn you around, positioning you for what you both knew was coming next, but then he hesitated. ”No.” he said, “I wanna see your tits.”

His hands moved up, brushing the sides of your torso, before cupping your breasts through the tight, thin material of your top. You could see the intensity in his eyes, locked onto the way your nipples poked through the fabric. Hard. His thumbs brushed over them momentarily. Unable to resist, he pulled up your top just enough for your breasts to pop out from underneath. He grasped them in his hands, his touch firm, his fingers kneading the soft flesh. He played with your nipples, rolling them between his fingers, pinching lightly, watching your reactions with a hunger that mirrored your own.

“You’re so fucking hot.” he murmured. He continued to massage your breasts, his eyes glued to the way they moved under his touch, the way your body responded to him. You could feel the heat pooling between your legs, the ache growing unbearable.

“Aly, just fuck me already.” You looked up at him, your eyes pleading, your body aching for his touch. 

His eyes darkened at your words, a growl rumbling deep in his chest. He wasted no time, his hands leaving your breasts right at that second. With a sense of urgency, he fumbled with your panties, pulling them to the side. The fabric resisted, snapping back into place, but he persisted. His fingers hooked under the thin material, tugging it aside until it finally stayed put, giving him the access he needed.

He gripped your hips, lifting you slightly to align himself with you. You guided him to your entrance, the tip of his  cock, hard and throbbing, pressing against you. He paused just for one more moment, hands gripping you tighter and his eyes locking onto yours before he pushed inside you slowly, savouring the sensation of your bodies joining. You gasped, your fingers digging into his shoulders, holding on as he filled you completely. 

“God, you feel so good.” he groaned, his voice strained. He began to move, his thrusts steady and deep, but too slow. Too slow for the circumstances you were in. 

You wrapped your legs around him, pulling him closer, urging him to go faster, harder. He responded to your silent plea, his pace quickening, each thrust more urgent than the last. 

“Harder.” you begged, your voice a desperate whisper. “Give me more.”

He grunted in response, his body tensing as he increased his efforts. His thrusts became relentless. The sound of your bodies slapping together filled the air, skin sticking and rubbing, the sweat making you slip from his grasp at times only for him to grab you harder.

His fingers dug into the backs of your thighs, the pressure so intense it bordered on pain, but you didn’t care. The pleasure far outweighed everything else, his hard, urgent movements driving you closer to the edge. 

“Fuck.” he growled, the sound vibrating through you. “You make me want to fuck you all the time.”

He pounded into you. You could feel the tension building inside. You could hear him too, his breath heavy and laboured, his groans growing louder despite trying to stay quiet, his movements becoming more erratic as he neared his own release.

“Please, don’t stop.”

“I won't.” he promised, the sound coming out more hoarse now. “I won't.” And he didn’t, driving into you with everything he had.

You felt the need for release intensify, and knowing he couldn't free his hands to help, you slipped a hand between your bodies, your fingers finding your clit. You started rubbing circles over the sensitive spot, the added stimulation being all you needed. 

His eyes flickered down, watching you touch yourself, the sight making him groan even louder. The combined sensations of his relentless thrusts and your fingers on your clit brought you closer to the edge. 

“Oh god.” you gasped, your movements on your clit becoming faster, more frantic. “I’m so close.”

“Me too.” he breathed, his voice tight with need. 

Your fingers moved faster, pressing harder against your clit, the pressure building to an unbearable peak. You felt yourself shatter, the orgasm ripping through you. Your body clenched around him, waves of pleasure washing over you, your nails digging into his shoulders as you held on.

He felt you come, your body tightening around his cock, and it pushed him over the edge as well. With a deep groan, he thrust into you one last time, his body shuddering as he found his own release. You could feel him pulsing inside you, the condom filling with his warm release. His arms trembled from the effort of holding you up, and he couldn’t manage it any longer. You struggled to keep yourself on your feet, your legs shaky and weak.

“God, that was…” he trailed off, unable to find the words, his forehead resting against yours.

“Yeah.” you whispered, your voice still shaky, a smile tugging at your lips. “It was.”

He quickly discarded the condom, carelessly throwing it to the ground, and then pulled his clothes back on with hurried, shaky movements. You fumbled to pull your shorts back on, the fabric sticking to your sweaty skin, your fingers trembling. He noticed and helped you, his hands steadying you as he fixed your top, pulling it down over your breasts.

You both stood there for a moment, catching your breath, the rush of the moment slowly fading. His eyes met yours, a hint of a smile playing at his lips. He reached out, brushing a strand of hair away from your face, his touch gentle now. “We should probably get out of here.” he said softly, glancing around as if suddenly remembering where you were.

a/n: based on this request

it’s reallyyyy short but i liked the idea and i thought a little break in between the parts of mr turner would be good. this one isn’t proofread so there might be some mistakes but i cba to check it over

tags: @4chaos @st7rnioioss @theonlyoneswhoknowsblog @rentsturner @yourstartreatment @avxoxo1 @jqsvi @turnersfav @youresodarkbabe @aacheinthejaw @zayndrider @humbuginmybones @tedioepica

[baddiewiththebook]

Over the Years | e.m x reader [18+] | p. 10

-> The origin story of Eddie Munson, and how he fell in love with the worst person he possibly could - his best friend.

-> eddie munson x you (she/her)

-> friends to lovers, slow burn, angst

-> warnings - strong language, suggestive themes, smut [18+]

-> <-

August 1983

Night falls onto Hawkins. The street lamps flicker on. A hopeful Eddie sits amongst the clutter of his living room. One of those street lamps illuminate the Forest Hills Trailer park just enough to cast shadow across each of the tiny trailers littered across the property. Your trailer is the only one of interest to Eddie.

The trailer has been quiet almost all day. In the morning, Eddie recalls Robin’s mother picking you up. There’s no clue what the two of you get up too when you’re together. Shopping. Chatting. Drinking coffee. Coffee is just about as bitter as Eddie feels right about now.

You must have come home for a moment when Eddie wasn’t watching your house, just to take your mom's car out for a joyride. That couldn’t have come off any creepier. Eddie doesn’t normally watch your house. He just waits for the opportunity to come by, since Gareth has already rejected the suggestions that he’s called him about earlier. He won’t say, but Gareth is busy this evening.

Jeff’s line goes straight to his answering machine, so he sighed loudly into the phone and hung up. Hopefully, Jeff hears the message before his mom does. She’ll cry that someone is out to get her. If only she would put away the fiction that these newspapers are printing these days. The Devil hasn’t touched Hawkins, and nor does he exist.

It becomes clear to Eddie that you are also busy this evening. What are you up too? Your mom’s car is gone, so either she has come home quietly for once or you’ve taken the car. Taking lessons from Eddie has boldened your actions. If the cops were to catch you, you would be thrown a heavy fine. The cops don’t pay much attention unless you’re a Munson, it seems.

Eddie kicks a couple empty soda cans trying to plant his feet on the coffee table. It doesn’t bother him any. The remote for the television is just out of his reach, despite having longer limbs. Something he got from his father, Wayne would say. There are a lot of similarities between the two men that Eddie avoids breaking down.

Al Munson is a waste of oxygen. The bastard can’t even be bothered to give him a phone call. He can’t blame Eddie either. Eddie doesn’t have his number. Hell, he doesn’t even know where Al is. Maybe he’ll visit his mom’s grave. Yeah, he found out she’s taking a dirt nap a few months back. It surprised him that this news doesn’t affect him as much. Maybe she should have tried showing up for a birthday.

Eddie dwells until he becomes apart of the living room furniture. The dimness of the room helps rock him into a meditative state. Although, his eyes draw to the parted curtain that he can peak through to see if you’ve come home yet.

The trailer is still dark.

Lights begin to flood the trailer park, and the familiar crunch of gravel has Eddie’s ears perked up. You could be home.

It is not you.

Uncle Wayne is home from a day at the plant. This would be a short visit. He has plans with his coworker, who stays in his car to keep the engine warm.

Ugh.

Eddie sinks back into position on the living room couch. A metal spring prods him in the rear.

Wayne stomps up the front steps of the home, before jangling his key in the lock. His nephew surprises him on the couch. The home is dark enough to be empty. Yet, Eddie sits unsettled amongst the dirt of the living room. Damn. He could have at least cleaned up.

“What are you doing, son?” Wayne begins to shred his work boots to trade them for something less filthy.

“My friends have abandoned me,” Eddie says through a haze of smoke from the joint he had earlier.

Wayne has never reprimanded Eddie for smoking weed in the home because every once in a while Wayne too needs to relax. It’s an unspoken rule between the men to never speak about weed. As long as Wayne doesn’t catch Eddie with a joint, he can ignore the smell, then Eddie is free to do as he pleases. It doesn’t cause him too many problems, and that’s all that matters.

However, if Wayne has the cops at his door for something Eddie has done at two in the morning, Wayne will rain hellfire on the tiny trailer home. Eddie will not become his father.

The theatrics have become normal to Wayne, so when the boy throws his gangly limbs across all parts of the couch, he snorts. You must have plans.

Eddie doesn’t have much of a brain when it comes to you. The thoughts are crumbled into a pile of mush. If he’s not careful, Eddie’s tongue might drop from between his lips. When he starts panting, Wayne will have cause for concern.

“You’re never home on a Saturday,” Wayne points out.

“I have nothing to do,” he sighs.

His uncle mutters, “so you’re sitting in the dark?”

“Are you going senile on me, old man?” Eddie lifts his head.

“Watch it, boy,” uncle Wayne points a thick finger at him. “I’m heading out. Long day at the plant. Er- clean something. Would you?”

Eddie groans.

“Love you too,” Wayne stacks a ball cap over his head, before leaving his nephew. There’s no way that he’ll actually clean. But, Wayne tries.

It’s his boredom that Eddie does get up, and he does begin to wipe the coffee table of beer cans, soda cans and old cups that never made their way to the sink. He doesn’t enjoy living in a pigsty, but the maid is away on a vacation. Chuckling to himself, Eddie finds the letter from his school that he’s been hiding from Wayne. Granted, underneath a stack of other mail isn’t the best hiding spot. Eddie was in a rush when he saw the blasted letter. It had come flat and obscene. Bold red lettering spells out ‘IMPORTANT’ then follows ‘To the Guardian of Eddie Munson,’ as if they don’t know Wayne Munson by now. Everyone knows the soiled Munson name.

Honestly the town humors him. Even pretending to have an ounce of care for Eddie is laughable. They just want to bend his mind into something socially acceptable. The long hours behind a school desk, bouncing from classroom to classroom has left Eddie enough time to think. If he ends up behind a corporate desk, twiddling his thumbs as the hours creep by and worrying that his typing speed will get him the boot from tight wad boss, Eddie might just loose his mind.

This year he might not graduate. It’s too soon to tell, but his teachers all give him the gray stare. Eddie’s dad brought an estranged relationship to the halls of Hawkins High School when he attended. All of the Munson’s to follow would be the least impressive to them. Lucky for Eddie, he’s the only burden that Hawkins will ever have to deal with. Well, unless his dad was able to charm himself into another woman’s pants and she produces another Munson. That’s one step closer to world domination.

There is a knock coming from the front door leading Eddie to believe that Wayne has forgotten his keys. He arms himself with a crass joke about Wayne’s age. When he swings the door open, however, Eddie finds his friend Jeff bouncing at his heels about something.

“What’s up?”

Jeff allows himself into the trailer knowing that Eddie doesn’t mind hosting. After all, he’s come all this way just to be told to go home? Please!

“You got food?” Jeff beelines for the kitchen. He doesn’t have to open the fridge to know it’s empty. Neither Eddie nor his uncle are famous for their cooking. No, he opens the freezer where there are stacks upon stacks of frozen meals. It begins to get a bit sad to Jeff that Eddie hardly gets the chance to sit down to a warm family meal.

That’s the privilege his own family holds. Mom works a nine to five at a beauty salon, and dad delivers papers. They hardly get a moment to see each other, but when they do the family is exactly what you see on television. Well, maybe not exactly. Hey! That’s what he gets for being Black in America.

“Turkey dinner,” Jeff finds the meal he wants, and before turning on the microwave he calls to Eddie, “roll up a joint! Turn on the tv!”

Eddie only lets Jeff boss him around because he’s inside the home. There’s no need to rip his head off. Or, maybe Eddie likes that Jeff is so comfortable in his little shack. They’ve only known each other for a few years. Shorter than Gareth. He still has to tell Gareth that it’s alright to poke around for food, or that there are extra blankets in the cubby down the hall.

“I’m gonna use your bathroom,” Jeff turns the corner. “That one in the microwave is for you. I know you ain’t eat. I’ll warm up another one for me.”

This makes Eddie roll his eyes. But, his stomach disagrees. The fact is Eddie hasn’t eaten much today. If not for watching your house, Eddie might have paid more attention to his own surroundings.

Eddie pops in a movie that he’s seen a dozen and a half times. It’s a comedy. That pairs well with how high they are about to be within the hour.

The faucet switches on in the bathroom, and Eddie has perfected a joint for them to share. He races to the kitchen to pull out the dinner in the microwave. Hissing as the tips of his fingers sear across the tin dish. You’d think he’d know better by how many of these things he’s eaten in his past seventeen years of living, but Eddie would be one to burn his fingers off.

Eddie does slide in another frozen meal after he takes the one that Jeff has warmed for himself.

By the time he makes rounds back to the couch, Jeff has taken a lighter to the joint. A cloud of thick gray smoke passes through the air. The joint is handed to Eddie.

“Any word from Gareth? He’s missing a great night,” Eddie half jokes.

Jeff shakes his head, “I called the house, but his mom says that he’s on a date.”

“A date?” Eddie scrunches his nose in thinking. “He told me he was busy.”

“Yeah, on a date.”

“He lied to me?” He didn’t know whether he should feel hurt, angry or maybe a bit of pride. To lie to Eddie is the greatest sin.

“Who cares? Pass that to me,” Jeff says with an open palm.

For the sass, Eddie takes a second hit. The weed will make him forget this conversation even happened. But, while he can plant his two feet on earth.

“‘s busy too,” he throws your name in the ring, “you don’t think they. . .?”

Jeff tilts his head at Eddie. Indeed, your home is quiet for a Saturday. Even Jeff knows you favor Saturday’s for their potential. You like reading as many books as you can get your hands on. Saturday’s are prime real estate for book reading according to you.

The idea has crossed his mind. How Gareth has been acting towards you? You haven’t exactly shot him down. Since coming home from the camping trip this summer, you’ve been much quieter, whether during band rehearsals or whenever the guys get together. You have a misty glow about you too. It’s possible, but- would you really go as far as to date Gareth?

Something blasts on television. The characters are swarming each other in clouds of dust, and ridiculous plots. Jeff and Eddie throw themselves back in a fit of laughs. The plant they’ve been sucking on begins to coat their skin, and bathe in their blood. They’ve forgotten their conversation, and everything becomes quite silly just then.

-> <-

A bowling ally to you, always meant spending a fair time with your mother. She taught you how to hold the ball in your little fingers, and she helped guide you down the right lane. You could feel how cherry your cheeks would get when you knocked even one pin down. Success! Now, years later, the same nostalgia washes over you. Even though you don’t have your mother to play with anymore, you find a new companion in Gareth. He’s much handsomer than your mother too.

When you came back from the camping trip, you couldn’t stop your mind from racing about him. It’s silly to have such a school girl crush on the one person you thought despised you. He admitted to his jealously over the phone one night, and asked if you wanted to go bowling with him the following weekend.

You’ve now forgotten about the tornado that zipped through your room tonight. The perfect outfit couldn’t be described, nor could it be found. Although, Gareth disagrees. You’ve never looked more beautiful to him.

Gareth holds his breath as you throw your last ball down the lane. If you hit both pins down now, you win the round. Clack! The pins scrape the lane.

The dance you do at the end of the lane warms Gareth’s heart like hot chocolate in the winter. You spin around gleefully.

“Great game,” he says.

Your stomach growls, “pizza break?”

The pizza parlor is just a step off the bowling lanes. Crowds are thick at this time, and Gareth slots his hand into yours to keep from losing you. Hopefully, he misses how pink you’ve gone. He doesn’t.

Gareth orders your favorite slice of pizza, but not without a rebuttal of how plain a cheese slice of pizza can be. You disagree. There’s something soothing about eating just the cheese and the bread. Especially, if they’ve seasoned the crust right.

To be honest, the pizza isn’t even warm. Gareth can read that on your face the moment you take your first bite. Then, he suggests you head somewhere different for dinner that isn’t this cheap pizza crap. You convince him that it’s perfectly fine - not wanting to spend money neither of you have. Just getting into the bowling alley alone is expensive. The dollars ran you each six bucks that Gareth happily forked over. You’re priceless.

This might be the first date, but Gareth already wants the dates to continue. If you’ll have him. You spend the evening getting to know each other a bit better, while avoiding the family question. Gareth is the only child between his mother and his absent father. Unlike you and your father, Gareth regularly visits his in Indianapolis. Gareth’s mother and father split on the difference of opinions about where to live. She wanted to be in a small town, and he didn’t want to leave his corporate position.

“Two Christmases,” Gareth lightens the mood.

You snicker, even though you hardly get one Christmas. Would your mom even be home this year? It may be another Christmas spent with the Munson’s. Last year, Wayne brought you over since your mom was passed out on the couch and had completely forgotten the holiday. You shared laughs over a roast that Wayne worked extra hours for. It was one of the best holidays in years.

“I’m really into journaling,” you tell Gareth when he asks about what you want to do with your life. Honestly, the thought has crossed your mind. Nothing creases your brows more than when you have a pen and a piece of paper between your fingers.

Gareth finishes off a bite of his last slice, wipes his hands on a napkin and then asks, “is that why you’re always nose deep in those diary looking things?”

You flush. It’s true. Wherever you are - school or home - you always carry around a notebook to jot down - well, anything. Although, you didn’t know you had been so obvious about it. Humans are so interesting in their average life. Do we ever really stop to think about what we are doing? The emotions that we have? You’re quick to jot this moment in your head to put on paper later.

“No one has ever asked about my writing before,” you smile at this, “but, it’s all silly. I don’t know if any of it’s important.”

“I’d love to read them someday,” he offers.

“It’s not done yet,” you shy.

Gareth nods understandingly, “when it’s finished.”

Gareth knows that Eddie is fond of getting those journals for you to write in. The exchange is polite and friendly. Some of them are more colorful and more loud than others. They come in all colors. Gareth can see when you’re getting close to being done with them when the pages gain weight with the ink from your pen. He’s always been curious to read between the lines if the written word wasn’t so private.

The end to your writing has yet to fall into your lap. Pieces of the puzzle you’ve begun can’t seem to fall directly into place. It will take years for you to sort through just the corner pieces. The center is what really matters. It’s the glue that holds the story together. The pages open to your inner most deep thoughts. You’ve hardly begun to untangle the web that lives inside your brain.

Life might be much easier for you if you could reach between your ears to prod at the sticky flesh that your brain has to offer. Along the muscle, you might find the words that you’re desperately trying to say. That goes the same for paper, and for real life.

Anxieties creep against your spine about the future. You won’t let them rattle you for long. The boy in front of you distracts these thoughts from surfacing when he dashes his fingers across the back ridges along your hand. Your face softens, though you’re not sure when it got so stiff.

Gareth can read you well. Something he’s picked up on over the years. Your face gets so tight in the middle. Even your nose gets scrunched when you’re overthinking. To distract you, Gareth doesn’t want to scare you by word of mouth. He’s much gentler to you. He cares for you. Already, you’ve made a mark on him that no other blonde, brunette or - well - anyone could. You’ve known each other for so long, yet this past summer Gareth has really opened his eyes.

The way you smell captivates him. He’s entranced by the way that vanilla could become so intricate and intimate along your skin. You’ve certainly sprayed yourself with just enough perfume before you met him here tonight. Not only this, but you’ve freshly washed. The skin on your hands is still soft and plush. Your bracelet jangles against the surface of the table. When it does, you adjust the heart charm facing the ceiling, so to not interfere on your date.

Date. Gareth could have done summersaults when you agreed to tonight. It won’t be something he admits to you, but he did a few laps in his living room. His mom caught him. Surely something that will be brought up in the future.

The date continues. Eventually, the slices of pizza disappear leaving only sad crumpled plates. Gareth folds his in half, before throwing his and yours away. Another round of bowling follows.

“I want a rematch!” Gareth declares in a teasing and a joking sort of tone.

You play along, and challenge, “I can’t wait to kick your ass twice!”

“Bring it on!”

This round is different. Gareth has his eye locked on first prize. The technique he uses to swing the ball back is focused and precise. You want to ask if he’s ever bowled on a team. But, soon you’re up. Maybe you’re out of your element. Perhaps you quicken your shot, just so you can watch the way Gareth moves during his turn. The muscles in his arm strain and flex in his swing. When did he get those?

You have to pull away, and start thinking with your head.

The score is set. Either knock these pins down and win, or- Clang! Crash! Bang! You droop your head in defeat. Gareth has taken the win!

“Woohoo!” Gareth victory laps in front of the lane. The dance is a bit corny and embarrassing, but he likes to see the look on your face. Twisting your false frown into a congratulatory smile, you can’t help but join him.

Gareth slows down when you get close to gun. The faint Italian seasoning still bites your taste buds from the pizza you had earlier. Hot breath hits his lips. He initiates a kiss.

Your hands find the zipper of his open sweater on either side. Pulling him closer, he stumbles before finding perchase at your hips. You couldn’t stay there for long too engrossed in each other. A round of hollers break the moment. They’re some of the jerky popular kids from school.

Their hollers are sarcastic and mean.

Gareth doesn’t want to let them spoil the night, so he holds onto your hand before squeezing his way through the crowd. There is also an arcade buried in the bowling alley. Somewhere just the left of the mediocre cafeteria.

The arcade is much less popular - surprising. As soon as you step to the first machine, you understand why.

“It needs quarters,” you tap the buttons.

Gareth ransacks his wallet, “I’ll be right back.”

Gareth zips off to the half-alert teen behind the register where they got the pizza from. You wait patiently observing. The way Gareth tips his head to him, and accepts the change. He even passes a genuine ‘thank you’ that sits just right inside your head as a lasting memory of why you like him.

The arcade games are quite fun. You’re not good at any of them. Gareth says with practice you could be a real pro.

“Is that your way of telling me there is a second date,” you guide yourself deeper and deeper through the maze. This is your second attempt at Dragon’s Lair. One of Gareth’s favorites - go figure.

Gareth points to the screen, “watch out!”

The knight you play as becomes quickly squashed and buried by a thick layer of stone. He’s not going to make it out of that one with a few stitches.

Gareth shares a hearty laugh with you that warms you up. He surprises you by pressing a kiss to your cheek, and then following this by whispering your ear.

“A second date would be nice.”

You blush, “we haven’t finished the first one.”

Gareth hums. “I know. And, I miss you already.”

When he reaches back into his pocket, he comes to find that you’re all out of quarters. The night has been more than fun than any night before. Your cheeks burn from the smile that couldn’t be swiped off your face.

As you leave the building, hand in hand, Gareth tilts the watch band on his wrist. The time reads exactly nine in the evening. You’re supposed to be home soon.

“I had fun tonight,” he kicks the ground of it’s loose gravel.

You nod in agreement, “I did too. Thank you for this. And, I’ll call you.”

Tonight, you had brought your mom’s station wagon. You want to offer Gareth a ride, but he insists his mom will pick him up shortly. Saying this has Gareth going pink in the face. As soon as he can, he will learn to drive. He likes the image of him behind the wheel, while you sit comfortably in the passenger seat.

Before his mom can pull up to the bowling alley to embarrass him through and through, Gareth presses one more kiss to your lips. Your hands reach for the back of his head, just slightly. The pair break off in time for a familiar face to show up this evening.

Out of anyone this evening, neither of you wanted to be drilled and questioned by your shared friend Eddie Munson. The man who could squash Gareth under his thumb like a bug. You didn’t want to hide your blossoming relationship with Gareth from him. You just wanted time to yourself. There isn’t anything to talk about yet. Although, you could give Robin a call tonight and chat her ear off about how much of a gentleman Gareth has been. She is of the belief that this might become a bad idea because to her neither of you have anything in common. Nonetheless, she’s supportive of your experiments.

Anyway, the man you find yourself running into is probably the second worse case scenario because he could easily let it slip that he’s seen you at the bowling alley. Eddie’s uncle Wayne stops his conversation with his coworker John. The men were sharing work stories when he spots you making eyes at the boy next to you.

Ah, he remembers date nights well. Wayne could prattle on about the times he took out fare Rosie Davis in his younger days. They went to hot spots like the bowling alley too, or the diner. He couldn’t call her the one that got away though. That spot remains for dear Cloudy. Ah, Cloudy. Of course, he will spare the details. The woman was like a dream to him - she still reaches parts of his memory that he loves to pry out every once in a while.

Wayne pulls back a bit when he recognizes Eddie’s friend Gareth standing beside you. The two are usually together on Saturdays, which makes more sense as to why his young nephew is taking over his living room in the dark. Had he known you were out . . . together? Bah! None of his buisness. You kids are hard to keep track of these days.

“Well,” Wayne acknowledges, “good evening, you two.”

You fumble nervously, “hi, Wayne.”

Gareth flicks his wrist to wave hello. “Hey, Wayne.”

“Oh, John,” Wayne politely introduces the man. “These are a couple of Eddie’s friends.”

“Nice to meet you!” The man beside him is Wayne’s age. He has a hat perched askew atop of his head to hide the balding patch missing of course curly hair that’s throwing off his age. It’s not doing its job, but that’s not for you to point out.

Wayne flicks his gaze to the bowling alley, “it’s crowded in there tonight?”

“It is,” the parking lot is nearly full, and people are starting to park on the street.

This causes the man to lift his eyebrow, and dips his head to your height. A flimsy smile rests on his face.

“It’s probably so crowded that I’ve forgotten the faces I’ve seen tonight, hm?”

Wayne already has the clue by the stiffness of your back that Eddie probably has no idea that you’re here tonight. Especially, that you’re together. He’s getting old, but he’s not any stupider now than he was yesterday. Besides, there may be a day that you will return the favor to him. Not that he expects you too.

Your faces twist into something of gratitude.

“Have a good evening, you two,” Wayne turns to John, and with a pat on his back they walk into the bowling alley.

Gareth sighs, “that was close.”

“Yeah,” you agree. “Well, bye Gareth.”

“Bye,” he waves.

Just as you step off the curb to make your way through the parking lot, a blue sedan pulls in beside you carefully. The window rolls down, and Gareth’s mom shouts to you.

“You look so pretty tonight!”

You turn on your heel, “thank you, Miss Jones.”

Gareth’s worst nightmare has come true. His mom’s best trait has become his worst enemy. She does well at her job where her spunk and toothy grin do her well amongst her coworkers. Even people she sees on the street, she’ll make new friends in mere moments. While he adores her theatrics, he does wish she could know when to pipe down.

“Did you kids have fun tonight?” She whips her head back and forth between her son slotting into the front seat of her car, and you dancing on your heels and toes in the parking lot. “Oh! You should come by tomorrow. We’re making ziti! Ever heard of it? I was watching the television. I love my cooking television shows. I learn so much. Anyway, this lady says something about her Italian dog - or maybe it was her grandma - no, it had to be her grandma. Dogs can’t cook,” she only pauses to belt out a loud and nasally sort of laugh. “Can you imagine? The hysteria!”

If anything, Gareth was trying to spare you the ongoing rambles that his mother could go through. The woman didn’t have an off button. When he told her that he could use a ride to the bowling alley, she was extremely ecstatic to be having a mother and son night out. He disclosed that he would be meeting a friend there, and she responded with a suggestive ‘oh!’ The questions began. She asks if you’re a girl, then asks if you’re pretty. Hell, by the end of the conversation you and he were already married and making her grandchildren.

The woman is colorful to say the least.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, sweetie!” Gareth didn’t listen in very closely, but by the sounds of it, you’re coming over tomorrow.

Gareth couldn’t be more thrilled that his mom hasn’t scared you off.

You wave one more time, before taking off towards your car that’s parked just a few spots away from the front of the bowling alley.

“I’ll have to find those photo albums,” she mutters to herself.

“Mom,” Gareth whines, “no!”

“What? I can’t show your girlfriend how cute you were as a baby? This is going to be so much fun!” She taps the steering wheel in front of her, then coos. “My baby has a girlfriend!”

“We’ve been on one date!”

“She’s going to look gorgeous in white one day, don’t you think? Is she more of an ivory or a cream? I’m just so excited!”

-> <-

[Sep 1983]

tags -> @leelei1980 @sheneedsrocknroll92 @jesuisbuginette @starrywhitenight @meetmeatyourworst @munsonburn3r @5tud10-54r4h @pvdulmol @loveryanax @am0iur @naatggeo

[joanquill]

Sherlock with Moriarty's Younger Sister II

What it's like being the younger sister of the Moriartys and meeting Sherlock Holmes. Continuation of "Sherlock with Moriarty's Younger Sister".

A/N: Sorry this took so long :') Tag/s: Fem!Reader, Familial Relationship, and maybe romance? maybe

During your afternoon stroll with Moneypenny, Sherlock was quick to catch you with Watson by his side.

Moneypenny, however, was quick to shut the whole operation, excusing you both by saying you are needed back home.

Sherlock attempted to walk you home, but Watson quickly pulled him back, apologizing for Sherlock's assertive behavior and bid you goodbye.

While walking back home, you couldn't help but laugh while Moneypenny was sighing, advising you not to meet with the great detective so often.

Being alone with a man was dangerous enough, especially with your position as a noblewoman with high society's eyes on you.

You reassured her, saying it will not hinder William's plans and you can take care of yourself and your image.

Unfortunately, it seems this reached the ears of your brothers before you even stepped inside the manor.

You sighed as you braced yourself for your brothers' lectures.

Even police interrogations don't feel as heavy or last as long as this.

Once you confirmed that Sherlock talked to you, Louis made you bathe, saying it was to decontaminate you.

If air fresheners were invented, Louis definitely sprayed your whole body with it, removing every trace of Sherlock on you.

They made sure that you didn't have any cuts or injuries, even though you were just taking a walk with Moneypenny.

You just said he tried talking to you since you were a Moriarty but assured them that you didn't do or say anything suspicious.

Luckily, Moneypenny helped you and took your side.

After that, your brothers let it go but still told you to avoid the man.

Unfortunately, your brothers took it upon themselves to be your bodyguard.

Whether you're walking in the gardens, reading in the library, or even just drinking tea in your room, at least one of your brothers is by your side.

Even the letters or gifts you receive get checked by them, mostly by Louis.

Marriage proposals get burned, shredded, ripped, or straight to the trash. Most of them never even got into your hands, let alone to your knowledge.

Whenever you make a public appearance, Albert is always there and dances with you, leaving no room for other men to ask you to the dance floor.

Some of the noble ladies even coo at how protective Albert was of you, saying how sweet of an older brother he was.

You can only give them an empty smile and stop your tongue from lashing out.

You even tried to deliver lunch to William to get on his good side and hopefully light up the security around you, but it just got the opposite effect.

Now, even his students send you letters and flowers in the mail.

You can only apologize in your head as you watch William prepare their examinations with dark fire surrounding him.

Louis is the one who stays by your side the most, assigning you to the same chores he has.

Whenever he needs to buy something from the market, either Sebastian or Fred goes with you two.

Whenever you feel it's too much, you usually spend time with Fred in the gardens, go for a drink with Sebastian, or have tea with Bonde, Moneypenny, and Master Jack.

They have tried to help you, defending your case, but your brothers are relentless.

Seeing as there is little to no hope of changing their minds, you put on your disguise and decide to run away.

You DID leave a note, though.

But you can only smile when you see Sherlock's shocked expression when you end up on the doorstep of 221B Baker Street.

As much as you hate people using power and money for selfish gains, you can only do so much with your brothers watching your every movement.

You paid Miss Hudson in full for renting a room for three days, which she happily accepted and welcomed you with open arms.

When you got inside, you didn't expect to be staying in the room right next to Sherlock and Dr. Watson's, but it's better than staying in the manor for now.

You jumped onto the bed and sighed, physically and emotionally tired from the day.

Before you could even unpack, you heard someone knocking on the window.

There, you saw a frantic Fred outside, trying to get your attention.

You opened the window and listened to him, but you were determined to stay there until your brothers let you have your freedom--despite how childish it is to run away at your age.

Seeing you were resolved to stay, Fred left to let your brothers know you were safe.

Seeing as you were their new neighbor, Dr. Watson tried to greet you as politely as possible while Sherlock glared at you from behind, earning a smack on the head from Miss Hudson.

You greeted them back with a courteous smile, reassuring them that you would only be staying for a short time.

You did your best not to bump into the two men, keeping to yourself in your room and only leaving to cook, eat, and go to the market.

Sherlock has tried to visit and talk to you, seeing as this is a rare chance to meet the elusive sister of the Moriartys.

But Miss Hudson made sure no one would bother her new tenant while Dr. Watson made sure his book's titular character would not cause a scandal.

Seeing as how your presence was causing trouble (because of Sherlock), you decided to invite them for tea.

As usual, you kept your answers short and precise, not giving Sherlock the answers he wanted while also asking questions yourself.

"For a noble lady, you sure have little to no suitors, huh?"

"Why? Would you like to be one?"

"I have no interest in women,"

"I believe Miss Irene Adler stayed at your place?"

"...And where did you hear that?"

"Gossip seems to travel faster than papers,"

Before you could finish your cup, Miss Hudon walked inside with Paterson behind her.

Your brothers apparently filed a missing person report.

Dr. Watson swore he saw the air around you grow heavy and dark for a split second.

Seeing as they have now gotten the police involved, you said your farewells and went home with Paterson.

Knowing your brothers, they would have sent the MI6 next...

[katiscrying]

Insomniac ౨ৎ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

Austin Butler x f!Reader

! Tw: not proofread !

•₊˚୨ৎ°⋆࿔*:･ੈ‧.'•₊˚୨ৎ°⋆࿔*:･ੈ‧.'•₊˚୨ৎ°⋆࿔*:･ੈ‧.'•₊˚୨ৎ°⋆࿔*

As you finish your nightly routine that contains of washing your face and brushing your teeth as one usually would, Austin settles into the shared bed. You walk into the bedroom and at the first sight of your sleepy yet ‘put together’ self he smiles, a smile of pure adoration and love for you. He pats the spot next to him on the bed, obviously signaling you to come lie with him. You mirror that same smile he has and you settle into bed next to him, you’re back facing him so he can easily wrap his arms around your waist. Your bodies fit perfectly together and the feeling never gets old. A few hushed whispers are exchanged before he plants two gentle kisses to your neck and falling asleep soundly, you following in suit.

Unfortunately that sweet serenity of silence was disturbed by your body waking you up. No reason whatso ever but just that you needed to be awake. This had happened before but it’s been a while so it’s pretty agitating to be reminded that good things never last. Austin’s grip on you had loosened throughout the 2 hours of sleep you managed so it’s fairly easy to wiggle free from his grip. You roll from your side to your back and just stare up at the ceiling, just questioning the universe and your brain as to why it had to be you. Your thoughts aren’t alone though, you shift multiple times to attempt - and fail - at getting comfortable to go back to sleep. Nothing worked. You had moved so carefully, praying Austin didn’t wake up but as you shift one last time with a quiet sigh he’s stirred.

Austin props himself up in his elbow and with his still sleep - glazed - over - voice he asks, “darling? Are you alright? You’re shifting quite a bit.” His voice always manages to catch you off guard and this time was no different. Your cheeks heat up fro embarrassment but you nod, confirming it with him that you’re okay but he’s not buying that. He rubs his eyes, sitting up against the headboard, giving himself a moment to awaken just enough to gather thoughts and form coherent sentences that weren’t slurred. “Come here, darling” it’s a gentle command you can’t say no to, so you shift yourself comfortably into his arms, feeling his protective yet possessive grip on you makes you feel oddly calm, contrasted from how you felt a few minutes prior.

“What’s got you all worked up hm?” He asks, his voice is soft and quiet as you both lay in the dark. One way or another he will find out what’s going on and how he can fix it. You explain the situation to him. This wasn’t the first time, it had stopped, and how much it pisses you off but as he’s taking in your words, he formulates an idea that hopefully wouldn’t seem too ‘odd’ to you. He nods at your words as his fingers run through your hair, pushing strands away from your face, tucking them behind your ears. “Well.. how about this -“ he trails off, his hand that was previously stroking your hair moves to pull the drawstring of the lamp. The cool amber glow of the lamp illuminates the room very dimly but enough to where he can see your face, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

You remained quiet, unsure what to say. Even your thoughts were silent. It’s almost as if your ability to think and speak were forgotten entirely. He reaches into the nightstands drawer and pulls out a book. “I’ll read to you” he finishes his hanging sentence. All you can do is nod but the light pink color of your cheeks betrays that you like the thought but he won’t bring it up. Not now at least. He opens the book and clears his throat before reading to you. His voice has always been a weak spot for you, making you feel defenseless when he whispers in your ear. You rest your head against his shoulder but as he still reads, he shifts you slightly, cradling you in his arms comfortably as if you were a baby. His voice is deep and soothing so it doesn’t take long for you to start feeling drowsy. Your eyes start becoming heavy and your breathing evens out and becomes more shallow. He’s only about 15 pages in and already has you asleep on him.

“Sleep well, darling”

•₊˚୨ৎ°⋆࿔*:･ੈ‧.'•₊˚୨ৎ°⋆࿔*:･ੈ‧.'•₊˚୨ৎ°⋆࿔*:･ੈ‧.'•₊˚୨ৎ°⋆࿔*

[lovebeinaprincessworld]

Hopeful Love (Cato Hadley x reader)

Description: The arena was horrifying, but with Cato by your side - maybe you could make it through everything?

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Masterlist

Warnings: death, blood, wounds, the typical hunger games stuff

7515 words

It felt like a fever dream - like it wasn’t really happening. The moment Aspasia had hugged you and the platform started moving, your heart was beating out of your chest, and not in a good way. The light was blinding for a moment and then you took in the arena. The biggest part of it was a forest and there was also a big grass portion where the cornucopia was located.

Your attention snapped back to the other tributes, some looked more than ready to finally kill and some looked like they wanted to kill themselves. The cornucopia was filled with things, less and less of them strewn around the farther they laid from it. They also seemed to be less useful the further one went from it.

And finally your brain kicked in a little, your eyes moving over the other tributes searching for Cato. He was exactly opposite to you, and his eyes were already locked onto you in determination. This was probably the worst possible distance for his plan (the one of you running towards him) and you were sure your chances of making it at the moment were like 30 percent or less. If you died hopefully it would be quick, but you would try to make it - for him.

You could see the countdown was already at 16 and you took a deep breath to ready yourself for the sprint, listening to the steady rhythm of the numbers going down. You were honestly curious how the people watching would take Cato trying to protect you - nobody knew anything about you two yet, how could they?

The countdown was getting lower and lower and you felt like you were about to throw up when it reached 3. You braced yourself to jump down from the platform. 2. You took a deep breath. 1. You really hoped you wouldn’t catch a knife to the back - and then you were running. It was like you were on autopilot, putting one foot in front of the other and towards Cato who was running even faster - considering he was way taller that made sense.

You were almost there, and you really thought you would make it - when suddenly someone tackled you from the right. In retrospect you should’ve been more aware of your surroundings, but what shocked you the most that on top of you and trying to grab you neck was Taron, your own district partner. You had no idea he hated you so much he made it his mission to kill you first. You tried to keep his hands off your throat, but when he finally got a good grip he was ripped off of you.

Cato was determined to keep you alive. Fuck, he had never run this fast in his life and when he almost reached you that son of a bitch from your district seriously tried to take you from him. Foolish. He ripped him off with ease, taking his head between his big hands and breaking his neck with a controlled snap of his hands. One person less.

He pulled you up immediately, taking your hand in his firmly and making his way towards the cornucopia. He picked up a long knife and a small one on the way, giving you the small one and ending every tribute that came near you two with the other. You knew his weapon of choice was a sword but you hadn’t been close enough to the cornucopia yet.

The other careers had already brought the cornucopia under their control, so once you arrived there, the other tributes were either dead or they already ran away. You were shocked that you had honestly made it, still kind of on edge by the way Clove, Marvel and Glimmer were eyeing you, but you knew as long as Cato stuck to your side you were relatively safe - as safe as one can be in the arena.

Cato pulled you into the cornucopia - the other three rummaging through the things in the entrance - and when you were at least a little shielded he pulled you into a bonecrushing hug. You could almost hear Caeser Flickerman commenting in your ear. „Cato“, you whispered, you were surprised he was willing to show this much emotion in front of the camera.

The tall career was honestly a little worried that his feelings for you would damage his hardened career image and offend the sponsors - but on the other hand he was in an arena fighting with others until death. So he didn’t really give a shit, he was just so incredibly happy that you were safe for now and he couldn’t control himself, he had to hold you close, even just for a moment.

When you mumbled his name, pressed against his chest, he gently kissed your forehead before hesitantly letting you go. Eventhough the bloodbath was over for now, you were still relatively out in the open right now and he needed to sort out the supplies and plan with the others. He drank in your pretty face for another moment and without words (he was never the biggest talker and especially not in a situation like that) he pulled you along to sort through the equipment.

—————————

You were quiet, now that the adrenaline was gone and all the death and killing that happened was sinking into your brain you had to concentrate on your breathing to not freak out. You knew Cato wasn’t affected by this nearly as much as you - he was trained for this after all. But the lifeless eyes of the other tributes, the ones that trained next to you for a week, haunted you. And when the canons went off after the bloodbath it felt final. You were really right in the middle of the hunger games.

The Careers were building a camp down by the river and the meadow and you were mindlessly carrying stuff from the cornucopia over there with Cato. The others were leaving you alone, but you knew that if it wasn’t for Cato you would be dead for sure. Two of the Careers - Glimmer and Marvel - were scouting the closest parts of the forest to find tributes who may have lingered around. You had one ally more, a boy who claimed he could dig up the mines from around the cornucopia and bury them around your food stash so it would be safe.

Once the others seemed satisfied with everything you sat down around the camp, Clove in one corner playing with her knives and facing the forest and you and Cato in the shade in the back, while Noah (that was the other tributes name) was still moving the mines. „How are you feeling?“, Cato was talking as quiet as possible, but it probably still would be picked up by the cameras.

He had just put down the last bag and sat down next to you, his eyes scanning your form, his hand reaching for yours gently. Crazy to think how he easily murdered multiple people a few hours ago and now the same hands were so soft with you. „I’m okay, don’t worry“, you gave him your best attempt at a smile, but he looked only partly convinced. How could you truly be okay though? The carefree nights on the rooftop seemed so far away.

Cato wanted to say more, but he didn’t want your private conversation to be broadcasted for everyone to hear, so he just nodded and pulled you into his side with one arm. He kissed your temple carefully, trying to convey his thoughts like that - and simultaneously fighting the urge to kiss you for real. He decided he would postpone that to when it was dark, and their was at least a minimal amount of privacy.

Suddenly Glimmer and Marcel broke out of the treeline, and with them was another person - still alive that is. They came closer and when your recognized the other tribute you sat up straight in surprise. „Peeta?“, you mumbled to yourself and you could feel Catos arm around you thighten. „What’s he doing here?“, Cato barked when they were close enough, standing up and pulling his sword out.

„Calm down lover boy“, Marvel rolled his eyes and walked over to Clove. „He‘s our best shot at finding the chick from his District“, Glimmer explained, picking up and apple from the bag and eating it. „Watch it District 12, one wrong move and it’s over“, Cato warned Peeta with a rough voice and gave him a dark stare before sitting down next to you again, a protective hand on your thigh. Peeta just nodded and they started planning the hunt for Katniss.

————————

Tracking through the dark forest that night, you felt like throwing up. This was all so wrong, Katniss had helped you - considering the weird circumstances she was probably your only friend(ly contact) next to Cato and you were walking through the woods trying to find and kill her. Not that you would be the one to do it, but you were with them, weren’t you? Cato held your hand tightly as if afraid something might happen if he let go for only a second.

And maybe it might, because his hand was literally the only thing stopping you from full on panicking and running away. What was the future perspective here anyway? Only one would leave this arena alive. The other three (except Peeta, who seemed just as unsure as you and Cato who was looking all serious) were joking around and having fun and it only made the whole situation more bizarre.

Suddenly Glimmer squeaked excitedly and when you followed her gaze, you could see a fire in the distance. „The fuck, who would be so stupid“, Marvel was cackling and you took a deep breath when you walked towards the fire, knowing what was to follow. The girl didn’t realize the group was there until Marvel was standing directly behind her, and her face was that of pure horror. You looked away, but the bloodcurling scream would never leave your memory. If Cato didn’t fall for you, this could’ve been you.

The canon went off and you didn’t realize how tightly you were holding onto Catos arm until he pulled you away from the scene. „Sorry“, you whispered and he just calmly squeezed your hand. You were glad he was calm enough for the both of you, always grounding you and protecting you.

After a few more hours and tips from Peeta, you gave up for the night and settled back down in your camp. Clove took first watch and Cato pulled you away to your private corner, settling down on the ground between a few boxes. He leaned against a heavy one and pulled you in between his legs - just like he did on the rooftop. It was dark here, a little bit of light filtering through form the fire, but you felt the tension leave you for the most part when you were tucked into his chest.

„You will be okay, I promise“, Cato whispered close to your ear and somehow that made you so emotional, made you feel like he understood your struggle with all of this without you having to say anything and you had to fight back tears for the first time since you had met him. „I love you“, you whispered back, not knowing what else to say and hoping it would be enough. You could feel him gently lift your chin towards him and pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

———————

It had been two days since that night and the other Careers were obsessed with finding Katniss. You hadn’t had the chance to talk with Peeta yet, but you felt his eyes on you sometimes, making you wonder what it was he wanted. And when the others were arguing about which direction Katniss would most likely be in, Cato had stepped away from you for a second and Peeta seized the opportunity.

„So, you and Cato huh?“, he smiled and stepped next to you, „Katniss told me she already suspected something at training.“ You blushed a little at the thought of the other tributes talking about you two. „Yeah, Cato and me“, you smiled too, „and you and Katniss right? At least it seemed like it“. His smiled was fading a little, and you guessed he felt guilty for trying to help the Careers kill her, when he obviously had feelings for her. Her, you weren’t so sure if this was true.

„Yeah I guess the survival instincts kick in“, he lamely explained, but you guessed the underlying message was, that he wasn’t really helping the Careers, just biding his time until he could run off. You could understand that. „I guess“, you sighed, the look you two shared in understanding was interrupted by a mad looking Cato. „Piss off 12“, he growled and pulled you close by the waist, Peeta raised his hands in surrender and walked off with a small smile towards you.

„What did he want?“, Cato gruffly asked with furrowed eyebrows and squeezed your waist, his other hand on the handle of his sword. „Nothing“, you smiled and stood on your tiptoed to kiss his jaw, making him grumble but relent.

You set off on another hunt for Katniss, and had only walked a few minutes next to the river when suddenly Marvel discovered her in the water. Shit. She looked just as shocked as you probably did and if Cato wouldn’t have pulled you along you would have remained there. The Careers followed her through the woods and you were sure you had to witness her death now, when she climbed a tree.

Glimmer missed with her bow and they were getting agitated when Cloves eyes fell on you. „You’re small, can’t you climb up there?“, she grinned evilly and was probably hoping you would either get killed by Katniss or the fall down there. You were about to answer when Cato spoked up. „I’ll do it“, he grunted. „Cato, I can-", you started to say, he didn’t have to do everything for you, you were really starting to feel bad. „No“, he interrupted you without looking at you and laid down his equipment before starting to climb the tree.

You looked at him worriedly, he was way too heavy and tall to climb up a tree like that. And as if you called it, one branch broke and he fell, taking several other branches with him. „Cato! You okay?“, you kneeled next to him, but he just got up with a grunt and glared up a the tree, while you were checking him for injuries.

„Let’s just wait here, she has to come down at some point if she doesn’t want to starve“, Peeta suggested and unhappily the others agreed, climbing up was out of question now that Cato took all the usable branches with him.

———————

You had been laying awake in Catos arms for what felt like hours, your mind running through all the horrible things that had happened or will happen. The thought that Katniss sat up there right now, fearing for her life (just like probably everyone else in this arena) and you were part of the group that was the reason for that, made you sick. All the other deaths were bad, but you didn’t know them. Katniss? Katniss had been nice to you, showing you how to make fire and how to set up traps eventhough she didn’t owe you anything.

Silently sighing you looked up to the sky, the sun started to rise half an hour ago. The other thought that was bothering you, was that it was either you or Cato making it out alive. It wouldn’t be both of you. And considering your chances of survival without him, it would most likely be him. And he was so thickheaded, he would never leave you out of his sight voluntarily, meaning that in the end it would be either him that would have to kill you, or one of you had to sacrifice themselves.

And you sure as hell didn’t want him to die, and neither did you want him to live with your death on his consciousness. A silent tear escaped your eye when you accepted what you had to do. Now was the perfect opportunity to leave. He would be incredibly angry, but you would rather he be angry than either of you having to live with the guilt.

The others were sleeping around you, and you carefully peeled yourself out of Catos arms, sitting up next to him. He didn’t move, and you looked at him for a long moment, before softly kissing his cheek and standing up as quiet as possible. You made sure the others were still asleep and grabbed your small backpack (with your waterbottle, knives and some food) before silently walking towards the edge of the clearing. You couldn’t stop yourself from looking back one more time and you immediately regretted it.

Cato was awake and sitting up, looking at you with a scowl on his face and tense muscles. Your face fell and you went rigid for a second, before tears filled your eyes and you just gently shook your head, mouthing „I’m sorry“ before taking off. Fuck, he wasn’t supposed to see you, and he would most likely follow you now. You still had to try though.

Catos heart felt like it would jump out of his chest. What the hell were you doing? He sensed you were feeling guilty and overwhelmed but he didn’t think you would try to leave. Try being the main point here, because he sure as hell wouldn’t let you. When you mouthed you were sorry, something inside of him snapped and he jumped up as quietly as he could, grabbing his stuff and following you into the forest. He couldn’t do this without you, the only reason he even tried anymore was you.

Tears were running down your cheeks as you made your way through the thicket and you had to surpress a sob when you heard Cato following behind you. You were about ten meters infront of him, but you knew you could never outrun him, no chance. He let you get a little farther, probably to make sure you were far enough from the others, before closing in on you.

You had just made your way between a rock formation and you could hear a small stream nearby when he grabbed your upper arm and hauled you around, trapping you between his big body and the boulder behind you. „What the hell do you think you’re doing?“, he was visibly angry, but tried not you raise his voice and you refused to meet his gaze.

„Let me go Cato“, you whispered, and you meant it in more than the literal sense in that moment. It would be easier if he would forget about you. „Never! Do you hear me? (Y/N) I will never let you go“, he sounded almost desperate and his hands left your arms, one grabbing your waist tightly and the other cradling your jaw.

He hated how you were refusing to look at him, you were the only thing he fucking cared about anymore and you almost left him. You wanted him to let you go. „Why would you even say that? Without you I wouldn’t…I can’t even…“, he was so panicked at the thought of losing your he couldn’t find the words, but you finally met his eyes, „I love you so much baby, please don’t leave me I need you.“

Your heart almost broke for the man infront of you, and simultaneously you felt so much love for him at that moment. „Cato“, you were slightly overwhelmed and your hands softly cupped his cheeks in an attempt to calm him down, „it’s easier if I go, I don’t want it to come down to us two. Better I be killed by someone else isn’t it?“ Suddenly his lips were on yours, desperate and firm and you could only whimper and return it with as much passion. How could you ever think he wouldn’t have hunted you down, no matter how far you went?

Cato pulled back for air and the both of you were panting. „Don’t say that. Never…never say that“, he sounded liked he was in agony and you hated yourself for doing this to him. „But-“, you tried to reason with him. „Don’t“, he growled and pulled you impossibly closer kissing you again, and you sighed softly, thinking in the back of your mind what a great show you were giving the audience. But neither of you cared anymore.

Suddenly Cato flinched and let out a pained hiss, making your heartbeat rise in worry. He turned around quickly, shielding you with his body and then you could see the arrow sticking out of his shoulder. Glimmer. „You’re betraying us already?“, the blonde called out from the top of the opposite boulder you two were leaning against, another arrow readied. Please, please don’t let him die.

Before any of you could react, there were suddenly screams coming from the direction of the other Careers and Cato seized the opportunity. He reached up quickly with his uninjured arm and because Glimmer was distracted he yanked her down roughly by her ankle. With a scream she came crashing down losing the grip on her bow and with a fast movement of his wrist the pretty girls trashing stopped and the canon went off.

„Come one we have to go“, Cato says, and you were still stunned by what just happened in the matter of a few seconds. Then the two of you were off, quickly running through the forest.

—————————

You and Cato had run through the forest as far as he could go with his arm, until you had singled out a really big oak, climbing up to see if you could settle there. The middle of the treetop was shaped like a small circular floor and after Cato managed to climb up the tree - which was way harder for him than for you - it was perfect for you two as a camp.

Cato looked really pale now, the arrow sticking out the front of his shoulder and you were so in over your head. „Shit, I think we have to pull it through love“, you said, your aunt was working as a nurse and a little bit seemed to have stuck with you. He just nodded, and you got out a shirt you had taken as a spare and ripped it in stripes, to immediately wrap his wound once you cleaned it.

„This is gonna hurt“, you softly stroked his cheek and he closed his eyes. You gave him an encouraging kiss and he chased your lips when you pulled away, before you took a deep breath and fought your inner restraints and carefully but quickly pulled the arrow through. He groaned in pain, throwing his head back and holding onto your hip so tightly you were sure it would bruise.

As soon as the arrow was out, you quickly took of his shirt, cleaned the wound with water - you didn’t have anything else on you - and wrapped it tightly with the ripped shirt. The bleeding wasn’t as profusely as you had anticipated, so that means there was probably no major artery hit. „Rest now, I think we’re safe here for now“, you kissed his sweaty cheek and helped him lay down comfortably with his backpack as a pillow.

You settled down next to him, and you thought he was asleep when he suddenly grasped your hand. „Don’t leave“, his voice was raspy and his eyes half closed, but he still looked scared you would try to leave again. „Never, I promise“, you leaned down and softly kissed his lips, „I’m sorry I tried to.“ He smiled a little and squeezed your hand. „I love you“, he whispered and then he was out like a light.

————————

It’s been days up in that tree, and Cato seemed to being doing worse and worse. You two had enough food and you went down to the stream nearby to fill up the water daily, but you didn’t have any adequate medication for his wound. And it was really infected, the edges a glowing red and everytime you cleaned it there came more pus out of it. Cato was sleeping most of the time and when he was awake he seemed mostly lucid and was worrying about you. Which was ironic, because he was the one who needed the worrying.

And worry you did. There wasn’t much you could do, and you hated it. „Here baby you need to drink“, you woke Cato up gently, and he was burning up. Before he could say anything, your evening was interrupted by an announcement from the Gamemakers.

„Attention tributes, attention. The regulations requiring a single victor have been suspended. For these games stand under the star of romance, the Capitol wants to give love a chance. From now on, four victors may be crowned, but only if they consist of two pairs of one male and one female tribute. This will be all announcements.“

You and Cato were silent for a moment, before his good hand gripped your hip where you were sitting next to him. „Fuck baby, that means we could both go home“, he rasped and you were still not registering what that meant, but let yourself be pulled down by him into a messy kiss. „That’s…that’s great“, you gave him your best smile, trying to hide your worries for now. How the hell were you supposed to get his wound to heal? Or the other option - even more unlikely - how were you supposed to win this for the both of you? Damn.

—————————

Cato got even worse over the next day and his breathing was labored. You had shed a few tears when he was unconscious, but tried to pull yourself together for him. But you were helpless, until there was another announcement.

„Attention, tributes, attention. Commencing at sunrise, there will be a feast tomorrow at the Cornucopia. This will be no ordinary occasion. Each of you needs something desperately. And we plan to be generous hosts.“

Medicine. It had to be something that would heal Cato from the gaping wound in his shoulder. „You’re not going“, you didn’t even hear him wake up, but even this weak he sounded dominant. „Yes I will, you need medicine“, you almost rolled your eyes and he scowled at you, sitting up in great agony before you could stop him.

„What are you doing? Lay back down Cato!“, you exclaimed, moving closer but he swatted your hands away. „You will not go to the feast, you’d be dead in a heartbeat. Clove’s still out there, and so is Thresh, I won’t let you“, he grunted, pale and shivering. „Good thing I didn’t ask for your permission then“, you snapped, „you’ll be dead if I don’t go, and it’s only a matter of time that I die then, so no argument you’ll tell me will make me change my mind.“

Cato hated that you were so right. He was slipping in and out of consciousness the last days and to be honest he knew you were right. He just didn’t want to lose you, eventhough he had realized from the start that it would come to that point. But now there was a possibility for the both of you to go home and this stupid infected wound was fucking it all up. The thought of dying and leaving you alone in here, and the thought of you dying were equally painful.

„Fuck“, he cursed, the pain in his shoulder becoming to great to sit up anymore and he laid back down, „please just…let me hold you til sunrise then?“ Your face immediately softened and the now familiar tingling flared up in his stomach at your smile - despite his pain. „Of course baby“, you blushed a little, and he loved that eventhough you were in an arena fighting other people til death, he could make you flustered.

You laid down your head on his good shoulder and he turned onto his side a little, catching you offguard when he captured your lips in a ravishing kiss. „I wish we weren’t in here and I wish I wasn’t sick right now“, he growled in your ear when he pulled away, and you looked up at him shyly when you realized what he meant. „Me too“, you whispered, your hand stroking his cheek before kissing him gently.

————————

You decided against saying goodbye to Cato, he fell asleep all smiley and with several more kisses shared between you and if you died you wanted to leave him with that memory. Fuck, if you died that would’ve meant he died too, so you had to give it your all. You secured the bigger of your two knives in your belt and smaller in your hand and took a look back at the sleeping lover you would leave behind for now.

Then you made it down the tree and carefully tracked through the dark forest, way earlier than needed just to make sure you would make it in time. Once you reached the clearing the cornucopia was in, you settled down in a bush and alertly watched your surroundings.

It must have been over an hour, when the sun started to rise and after a few more minutes a table with five bags on it came out of the ground. Your eyes immediately zeroed in on the one with an eight on it, and you could feel the adrenaline pumping through your veins. You were about to move in - no use in waiting and have someone else snatch up your bag, plus you were fast so if you hurried that would be your best chance - when the redheaded tribute ran out of the cornucopia, snatched her bag and was off.

That was fucking smart, but it was now or never. So you pushed your legs up and ran as if your life depended on it. Because it did. From your left you could see someone else run as fast as you did, and getting closer to the table you recognized her as Katniss. Hopefully she wouldn’t hurt you, considering with the new rules all four of you could make it out alive - if she paired up with Peeta that was.

When you quickly grabbed the bag, the both of you locked eyes and it seemed a quick truce was communicated through that, because you both were on your way again. But then you saw her get a knife thrown at her by Clove. Fuck. You stopped in your tracks when she was tackled by the smaller girl and it looked like she was done for.

You had to help her, she had helped you before without even knowing you so you just had to do something. It was auf if you watched the scene from outside of your body, changing direction and running over to the fighting pair, grabbing your big knife and shoving it into Cloves throat. You pulled it out immediately and both you and Katniss were splattered with the girls blood, the adrenaline keeping you from thinking how horrified you should be at killing another person. That would have killed your in heartbeat if she had the chance.

Clove fell to the side clutching her leaking neck, gasping for air and then she was dead and the canon went off. Katniss got up immediately, picking up her bag and squeezing your shoulder gratefully. „Thanks“, she said and the both of you shared a nod and a smile, before taking of again.

————————

You couldn’t believe you actually survived this, let alone save Katniss. You were still running high on adrenaline when you climbed the tree where Cato was laying with a high fever and a badly infected wound. But now you could actually help him, you actually did it. You let yourself fall next to him, sitting on your knees and pulling out the contents of the bag.

There was a relatively big container in there, wrapped in a cloth, plus a small bottle. They were labeled with their use and so you set them aside, pulling Catos makeshift blanket off and unwrapping his nastily infected wound.

At that he awoke with a groan and looked at you unbelievingly. „You’re alive“, he rasped, he couldn’t wrap his mind around it. His vision was slightly blurred but he could see you actually came back, back to him and you seemed safe. He was thanking whoever was up there that he didn’t lose you yet. „I need to put this on your wound baby“, you said, and he saw that you got the bag from the feast, medicine included. You were incredible.

He nodded, bracing himself for the pain that came with touching his wound, and you scooped up some of the paste before spreading it as careful as possible, using a good amount. He hissed at the initial touch, but after a few seconds the paste cooled down the burning sensation in his shoulder to a low pulsing and he sighed in relieve.

At the sight of the medicine helping already, tension you didn’t even realize was there fell off of you. „Need to do the back to“, you helped him roll onto his side slowly, before spreading the same generous amount on the back of his wound. You packed away the paste safely, before making him take the recommended amount of medicine from the bottle, that was supposed to help with the fever.

It made him extremely sleepy, but you instilled a little water into him, before laying next to him exhausted. It wasn’t dark, but the both of you needed the sleep badly. Hopefully he would feel a little better when you’d wake up.

—————————

When you next awoke you were wrapped tightly in strong arms and pressed to a chest. And you immediately took that as a good sign, that he felt good and strong enough to do that. Then you noticed the sun was rising again, so you had slept for most of the day yesterday.

You enjoyed the way he was holding you a little longer, even more relieved when you noticed his breathing was already stronger and steady again. When you couldn’t wait any longer, you carefully peeled yourself out of his arms to look at his wound. He grumbled unhappily and turned onto his back when you sat up, one hand on your hip and his eyes slowly opening.

„Hey“, his voice was gravely from lack of use and you smiled at him. „Hey“, your hand softly tracked his jawline, „can I take a look at your wound?“ He grinned a little and nodded, so you sat up on your knees and pulled aside the fabric that you had lightly wrapped around it yesterday and you gasped in shock. Positive shock.

„What is it?“, he asked, sitting up quickly, before looking down at his shoulder. „It’s almost gone“, you whispered and couldn’t quite believe that there was only a little bit of pink skin left from his previously gaping wound. When you checked the other side, it looked the same. „How does it feel though? Does it still hurt? Do you still feel sick?“, you worried that it was healing only superficially.

Cato loved the way you worried about him, only now that he felt healthy again was he really able to enjoy it. Fuck, you were so perfect, you risked your life to save him and if you weren’t televised right now he wouldn’t hold back. He was hard already just at the thought of what you had been doing on that rooftop on the last night.

„I’m alright, I feel perfectly fine“, he grinned and suddenly hauled you up and onto his lap with ease. He really seemed to be better. Your gasp was stifled by his lips and they felt warm and soft again, not clammy and cold. You could cry with how happy you felt. You two could make it out of here together.

When he pulled back, he looked you over for any injuries and almost had a heartattack when he saw you were covered in blood. „Why the hell are you covered in blood? Are you injured? Do you-“, you interrupted his panick quickly. „Calm down it’s not mine!“, you cupped his cheeks, your fingers trembling a little when your remembered how you killed Clove.

„How did it get onto you then? You okay?“, he took your hands in his, kissing your shaking fingers and waiting for your answer patiently. „It was…It’s Cloves. She was about to kill Katniss and I-“, your voice gave out and he pulled you closer in comfort. „Hey it’s alright“, he whispered stroking your back softly, the terror you were feeling shrinking a bit, „it will be okay, I promise.“ You just tucked your head into his neck and stayed there for a while.

————————

It has been two more days since then, and Cato was perfectly fine again. There had been a rainstorm and because of the thunder you must have missed the canon, because in the evening you saw that the redhead was dead. So only you and Cato, Katniss and Peeta and Thresh were left.

You and Cato and been walking through the forest, your camp in the tree packed and left behind, and you were searching for food because you were running low. But when suddenly in the middle of the day, the sky turned dark, you knew you wouldn’t need that anymore. The games would come to an end tonight.

„Seems like they want it to end it huh“, Cato gripped your hand tightly, he knew the gamemakers had planned something big if they changed the time of day. „Let’s go towards the meadow“, he suggested and you just nodded, squeezing his hand gently. You almost reached the edge of the forest when you heard it. It sounded like wolves, but more…domesticated. Not quite like dogs either. But it sent a shiver down you spine.

You both stopped to listen, and it seemed like the howls were getting closer. „We should-“, Cato was interrupted when Peeta and Katniss broke out of the thicket about ten meters away, running terribly fast and screaming at you. Run. So that’s exactly what you did, Cato held your hand so tight that the circulation would most likely be cut of but you didn’t care. You only concentrated on getting away from whatever seemed to be chasing you as fast as possible.

You didn’t dare look back, hearing the heavy sounds of paws behind you entirely too close for comfort even if they were a little bit away still. You ran out of the forest and over the meadow, following the other two towards the cornucopia. That seemed like a solid idea.

Cato thought about picking you up so he could run faster, but when he realized you would probably be safe on top of the cornucopia he decided against it. You could make it like that. He heard what were probably mutants pant behind you and howl angrily, and when you finally reached the cornucopia, you had passed Katniss and Peeta a little and Cato immediately took your waist and hauled you up.

Youwere unceremoniously dumped on the cornucopia and were once again awed by Catos strength. He pulled himself up with ease, Katniss right next to him, who started to pull up Peeta. But it seemed like they were a millisecond too slow, because one of the creatures grabbed Peetas leg. „Peeta!“, Katniss screeched and you were thankful Cato immediately jumped into action, grabbing Peetas other arm and ripping him out of the monsters hold.

The four of you stood on top of the cornucopia, panting and gasping for air when you had a chance to look at the creatures for the first time. And you almost got sick at the sight. They were huge mutant dogs, growling and jumping up the side of the cornucopia. But the worst were their faces. They were distinctly human, but not quite. The gamemakers were fucking sick.

Before you could think about anything else, a strong arm wrapped around your neck and pulled you back roughly. With a gasp, you gazed up towards your attacker. Thresh. He was bleeding profusely, and it seemed liked the creatures got him good before they ran after Katniss and Peeta.

The others looked at you in shock, Katniss had an arrow pointed at him and Cato seemed like he wanted to murder and rip apart the tribute holding you with his bare hands. Peeta was limping an balancing on his good leg, looking as helpless as you felt.

„Let her go“, Cato barked at the nearly equally tall man, and your hands grasped the arm wrapped around your throat. „Ha, fuck you! And you don’t even need to try Katniss, if I fall, she falls too“, Thresh seemed to know his situation was hopeless, „fuck all of you! You four get to go home and have a nice life? How’s that fair? Why do you deserve that? I would have deserved that too, Rue would have deserved that, all of us would have!“ He wasn’t only speaking to you, he was looking at the sky and seemingly addressed the Capitol.

Katniss flinched a little when Rue was mentioned. „How about I snap your pretty little neck hm?“, he cackled and you were frozen in fear, „that’s what they want right? Drama, death and betrayal!“

„You don’t have to give them what they want“, you whispered, the other three still rooted in their spots, „you don’t have to be who they want you to be. If you don’t let them, they can’t take that from you.“

Thresh laughed, and then it turned into a sob. Suddenly, he let you go, pushing you forward roughly and Cato caught you in a tight grasp. You turned around just in time to see him raise three fingers to his tearstained face, holding them to his mouth and raising them into the air, before falling backwards and into the pack of monsters on the ground. And then he was screaming, before Katniss went forward and put him out of his misery with an arrow.

Then she raised her hand in the same gesture as he did, Peeta following suit and then you and Cato did too.

———————

You four had waited there for an hour, the pack was long gone and you knew you won the games. But there wasn’t anything happening, which worried you tremendously. When the sun started to rise, you decided to climb down and as soon as your feet hit the ground, the gamemakers spoke up.

„Attention, attention tributes. There has been a slight rule change. The previous revision allowing for four victors has been revoked. Only one victor may be crowned. Good luck. And may the odds be ever in your favor.“

The four of you stood in silence for a few moments, looking utterly defeated. „They have to have a victor“, you whispered, scared for what might happen now, because Katniss was still holding her bow and Catos grip on his sword was so thight his knuckles were white. Only you and Peeta looked at eachother with surrender.

„No“, Katniss said, throwing her bow down and pulling something out of her jacket. Nightlock berries. You recognized them from back home and from training. If you’d eat them you’d be dead before they reached your stomach. And you suspected what her idea was.

„We don’t have to give them a winner, why should we“, she locked eyes with you, and you nodded, looking up at Cato who was watching your reaction. He seemed to know what they were too. He held out his hand just like you. Fuck them. None of you would be happy if you went out of here a victor. Let the last thing you ever did be a big defiance against the Captiol.

„Together?“, Peeta asked Katniss, and Cato couldn’t help himself and pulled you in for one last kiss. He hated that you were going to die - he didn’t care about himself - but he knew you wouldn’t back down. And going together with the woman he loved seemed like a good way to go. And giving the gamemakers a big fuck you felt reassuring too.

Cato let you go and the four of you looked at eachother one last time, your hand tightly laced in Catos, and then Katniss gave a small nod. „One“, Peeta said, and you and Cato moved closer. „Two“, you whispered and looked into his blue eyes, memorizing the way he always made you feel. „Three“, Katniss said and you raised the berries to your mouth, ready to die, when you were interrupted.

„STOP! Stop! Ladies and Gentleman may I present the winners of the 74th annual Hunger Games.“ Cato pulled you into his embrace immediately.

—————————

So this was part 2! And yes I know all four winning is as unrealistic as it might get, but I didn’t want to kill Katniss or Peeta and if I want to write another part, I need the normal revolution storyline. What do you think? Do you want another part?

I just tagged everyone asking for a part 2, I hope that’s alright it’s y’all!

@xplrcolbyy @riverlikethelake @l0stinth3nightsky @lisedanie @mysticdaisy21 @n1ght5h4d3-24 @inparanormal @hannahnikohl @worshiptheduck

[ashblooddragons]

My Heart, My Ruin (Chapter 1/?)

Warning! implied marital rape at the end

25 ac Oldtown 

Rhaellas pov

I’m sitting next to Mama resting my head on her belly feel the baby move around. Kepus is getting married to a lady named Ceryse Hightower. I keep looking up at the ceiling as I love the art up there.

“Darling it’s time to watch and pay attention, the bride is coming down the aisle.” Mama says as Papa helps her stand up before he reaches over to pick me up so I can watch.

“I still can’t believe Father agreed to this, he’s only ten and three, barely out of boyhood and now he’s getting wed off?” Papa says he’s been saying that a lot lately.

When I see the bride I gasp, her dress is so pretty. It's made out of white shiny smooth stuff, green butterflies on her shoulders, and she's wearing a gold tiara with bright green stones in it. I hope one day I look that pretty when I'm married. I look down at the dress I'm wearing and smile, it's dark purple just like Kepus's eyes, and it sparkled when I was in the sun.

“There is nothing we can do, it is their child, it is their choice.” Mama says hushing Rhaena who is in our Nursemaid's arms.

“She is ten years his senior, wouldn't her family want her with someone closer to her age?” Papa continues. 

“Most likely, but he is a prince, what better match would they find?” Mama responds as she rubs her back, she does that a lot now that her belly is so big.

I look over at Kepus, he doesn't seem happy, aren't people supposed to be happy when getting married? That's what Mama and Papa say at least, so why does he seem sad?

Once the bride finally meets Kepus at the alter the Stepton starts warping ribbon around their hands. 

“What is the ribbon for?” I whisper to Papa, or I at least try. 

“It's symbolic, the ribbon is a way to show their union is strong, that they are now bound, tied together forever.”  For some reason, I don't like the thought of Kepus being bound to someone, to her.

I grow curious again when they start chanting the same thing “Father, Smith, Warrior, Mother, Mother, Maiden, Crone, Stranger. I am his-her's, he-she is mine from this day until the end of my days.” 

“Why are they saying the same things?”

Papa chuckles when Mama giggles at my curiosity, they always say I'm as curious as a cat. 

“They are swearing before the gods that they are now bound, married.” Papa explains rubbing my back when I start to pout. He must not realize I don't like Kepus being married because he says this instead. “Shhh, you can stand on your own soon darling.” 

Once they are announced husband and wife everyone claps and cheers loudly. It startles me and Rhaena causing Mama and Papa to try and calm us down as Rhaena screams and I start to cry. 

“I told you bringing them to the wedding wasn't a good idea.” Mama says trying to get Rhaena to calm down. 

“They were fine until it got too loud for their little ears, isn't that right darling.” Papa says as he kisses my head and rests my head on his shoulder covering my other ear with his hand. 

Papa's hand are soft, not bumpy on the palms like Kepus, I want Kepus's hands to hold me, not Papa's.

Maegors pov

I know the Lords and Ladies are cheering, but all I can hear is Rhaella's sobs. Must be too loud, she never did like large crowds or loud noises, let alone the two combined. I think to myself trying to to scream at the crowd to shut up.

“Are you ready for the feast, husband?” My now wife, lady Ceryse Hightower asks with a smirk. 

She is beautiful, I'll give her that, but there is no world where she could match the fire within me. 

“I suppose.” 

She doesn't seem to like my short responses, as she frowns but quickly hides it with a fake joyful smile.

As we walk out I catch sight of Rhaella, Aenys seems to be trying to calm her down. But she keeps shrugging off his touch, hopefully, she will enjoy the feast and festivities more than this worthless wedding. I swear I've caught at least five lords snoring in their seats, seems they found it just as hard to stay awake with the Septons hour long speech of love and marriage before I was actually married.

Once we make it out of the Stary Sept we climb into a carriage to wave and greet the small folk as they rejoice in this farce. 

“we didn't have the chance to truly yet to know each other, so I had a thought, what if we did a game as we ride towards the festivities?” Ceryse asks fixing her necklace. She doesn't seem excited by the idea, but I would much rather do this ‘game’ over sitting in uncomfortable silence.

“What sort of game?” 

“Hmm, hpw about I ask you a question and you have to answer it? This of course goes both ways.”

“Fine.” I say with a annoyed and resigned sigh.

“I'll go first then!” She says only to stop and think for a moment. “What is your favorite color?” 

The first thing that comes to my mind is Rhaella's eyes, those pools of lavender that just looking at makes you feel calm and at ease. But I can't answer with that, for it doesn't seem like he best way to start a marriage, by declaring I love to stare into my little niece's eyes. 

Then I turn to Rhaella’s hair, those wild pure sliver riglets. How you can always find, I imagine you’d only lose her in the snow they are that pure and uncorrupted, just like her. 

The last thought is how when Rhaella laughs her rosy cheeks almost become a true crimson. The way her laughter always sets off mine. It always makes the worst days better somehow. Always makes my soul feel like it isn't a pit of pure blackness ready to destroy everything dear to me, but instead, it has some joy yet to be dug up and found for the world to see. 

And when I look down at my crimson red jerkin I know the answer, I don’t even need to think anymore.

“Red.” 

“Oh? I find red too angry of a color, I much prefer the calmness of green. though I see the appeal it is one of your house cars after all.” Ceryse answers even without me asking her the same question. 

A talker it seems. I think dryly as she keeps rambling on, and on about what colors she deems gorgeous and the ones she deems not worthwhile and why. 

Once we finally make it to the Hightower I partially bolt out of the carriage to escape that woman’s gods forsaken chatter. How one could love the sound of their own voice that much is beyond me.

I take her hand out of habit, for I was always taught to take my mother's, Rhaella's, and now hers.

When we enter everyone cheers and I notice my brother cover Rhaella's ears leaning down to whisper reassuring words to calm you down. She squirms in his lap trying to stay calm but the way her little face frowns and petal lips pout I doesn't seem my brother is succeeding. 

“I heard you are quite close to your eldest niece.” Ceryes says as she smiles and waves at all who have come to celebrate in our union. 

“Yes, what of it?” 

She seems to flinch at my cold tones before answering. “Only that we both have that in common, we adore our families and would do anything for them.” She responds trying to stay cheery.

As soon as we make it to the high table my father begins a speech. The same speech he does at every feast. His nonsense of how we must stand as one realm and how unions between houses will further the seven Kingdoms prosperity. 

Every time I hear it I can't help but roll my eyes, these whole already know this, they don't need their King reminding them at every fucking wedding. 

I drown out my father hoping his speech will end. maybe it will bore me to death and I won't have to truly go through with this wedding? I think dryly until Rhaella leans over Aeny's reaching for me. 

“Kepus, I want Kepus!” She demands a loom of fury on her face. She must have been denied me too many times this eve. 

For the rest of the feast I hold my little niece close letting her play with my rings and cloak. It almost seems like everything will be fine again, like it's just the two of us in her favorite field to pick flowers so she can make flower crowns for me and her. But soon it crashes down, the bedding ceremony begins and Rhaella is taken to her chambers to sleep the night away, already having fallen asleep against my chest. 

The rest is a blur, all I remember is wishes for those woman to stop touching me, and once they did I have Ceryse undressing me. 

I lay the rest of the night awake trying not to think about how I still feel like a boy, not a man who must make children. A boy who shouldn't have been touched the way I was, I fight the bile that rises in my throat all night forcing it back down. I keep reminding myself this is my duty, this is what I must do for the good of my family, and I can not tremble, I can not be scared, and I can not hide from this anymore.

I turn my skin to steel, and my heart to stone. But try as I must, my soul will not turn cold, for Rhaella has already changed it for the better. 

And with that thought I turn onto my side and pray to the fourteen again that sleep will find me, and it seems this time they truly did hear me.

Series Masterlist

special thanks to @sugutoad for making the header for this fic! I swear I would be lost without you girly!

TAGLIST: @sugutoad @ilikefelines @classicsimpforaaronwarner @mmogurl @sachaa-ff @baybaybear1

[superblysubpar]

return to main menu | Her Body Is Bible masterlist

Honey, On Your Knees

steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: Your husband and you get nasty in a church…again.

the song: Holy by King Princess

2.5k words

warnings: This fic is a part of my "Her Body Is Bible" AU - you can find the first story linked at the masterlist above | warnings from prev fic still apply - religious themes, and the holiday Christmas being celebrated | Mentions of trying to get pregnant | Alcohol mentions and use by reader | SMUT (oral - reader receiving / public - in a church again, right off the worship space / steve is kind of edging us a little if you squint)

He hadn’t meant to say it. 

The house was warm, the low murmur of relatives catching up while silverware clinked together mixed with Nat King Cole crooning out of the stereo. Mashed potatoes heaped by spoonfuls onto plates, kids’ new toys scattered in a rush once the ham was carved, and soon wine started to be poured for those of age.

Vivian Harrington simply smiled as you told her none for you and moved on, but the same couldn’t be said for others at the table. 

“Not drinking, huh? Are you pregnant?” 

If his scotch drunk uncle jumped over the line of appropriate, Steve ignored it all together, replying hopefully and without thought. 

“No…not yet!”

He hadn’t meant to say it. 

Your eyes widened, jaw tensed as you huffed out a breath through your nose. Steve’s cheeks flushed, and the table erupted into chaos, terribly intimate questions directed towards you. 

“Oh! Are you trying?! How exciting!”

“When you are, make sure Stephen here does everything. It’s the least he can do.”

“How long have you been trying? Don’t give up, Ben and I took two years, but look at us now…”

“How many do you want?”

“Are you still going to work?”

“Kids? So soon?”

“Who’s having a baby? Uncle Steve?!”

“Vivian?” You called, flagging Steve’s mom over.

You took the bottle of previously passed on wine and gave yourself a more than generous pour, and Steve whispered, “Baby, I thought that alcohol could affect your…”

The look you gave him had his mouth closing quickly, keeping his concern about ovulation and hormones to himself. You turned away from him, then answered every single question with grace and a grip on the glass that made Steve gulp around his own drink. 

Eventually, the table settled into topics that gave you a small reprieve. 

Steve leaned closer, lips almost to the apple of your cheek and you turned, so his kiss was cut off, mouth parted in surprise as he blinked at you. He spoke softly, fingers reaching for yours as he did, “I’m sorry, I didn’t-”

“Should we give you two some privacy?” A quip and waggled eyebrows from the other side of the table, and you plastered on a perfect smile and faked a laugh, poured yourself more wine and Steve’s shoulders deflated. 

You still hadn’t spoken to him. Dinner passed, and then dessert, and then coats were being pushed on and kids wrangled into cars for the midnight service. 

Steve managed to get you close to him in the very backseat of one of the vehicles. He kept his eyes on your profile as you stared straight ahead. 

“Are you going to ignore me the entire night? I’m sorry,” he started, voice low. 

Your gaze turned to him finally and your chest ached from how apologetic he looked. And honestly, you were over it as quickly as it happened, and the glasses of wine helped, and you were ready to say so. But then Steve’s fingers brushed your knee, up and down and back up your thigh. They nudged at the hem of your skirt, testing. His other fingers curled around your neck, words dipping even lower, soft and for only your ears. 

“How else can I tell you I’m sorry, honey?”

Steve’s thumb swiped down your neck, soothing and far too close to your racing pulse. It’d been sort of easy for him lately, and the thrill of making him think you were mad, the chance to make him sweat a little, to work for it, had your underwear growing wet. 

“We can talk about it later, when we get home,” you whispered, sternly. 

Steve nodded earnestly, until your fingers curled into your skirt, until the red, green and gold fabric pulled higher and higher. Your eyes remained on his until he had to look down, to see your black tights were not tights, but stockings. A sliver of supple skin revealed between plaid skirt and where they ended high on your thigh. The black lace disappearing as quickly as it was shown to him as your skirt dropped again, fanning nicely over your thighs.  

His tongue swiped over his lip, adams apple bobbing. He cleared his throat, voice a warning, “Baby-”

The car pulled to a stop, and you were out on the pavement with his family, heading into the church before he’d really even caught his breath. 

He watched you hang your coat, and help his nieces and nephews with theirs. His eyes traveled from the black heels up the black stockings that he now knew ended under your pretty Christmas skirt, curved around your thighs delicately and sinfully. He swallowed at the sight of red velvet over your breasts, at the memory of what happened last time you were here. 

It was easy to slip away as churchgoers caught up over coffee and doughnuts before the service, as kids became preoccupied in the Sunday school rooms with toys. You made your way down a dark hallway under the guise of the bathroom, and had to bite down on your smile as an arm slunk around your waist and pulled you into a room silently and quickly. 

Only lit by the soft light of the navy sky and moon outside, the room was obviously rarely used, a place for mismatched and forgotten things. Steve spun to face you, his fingers behind him clicking the lock closed with a barely audible, but still noticeable click. 

“Yes?” You prompted, folding your arms over your chests and hiding your delight at the way the movement made his eyes flit down to your breasts. 

Steve crossed the room in quick strides, hands finding your hips and tugging you to him gently as he spoke with sincerity. 

“Angel,” his nose traced down the bridge of yours, before he kissed the tip of it, “I’m sorry.” He kissed your cheek, your jaw, the corner of your lips before he pulled away enough to look into your eyes again, so you could see how truly sorry he was. 

“I really didn’t mean to say it, it slipped out. I’m just so excited, and I didn’t even think…” 

“I know,” you offered quietly, as your fingers slipped into his hair, curling stray and unruly pieces behind his ears. Your eyes remained focused on your adjustments, sure that if you looked at his eyes for longer than two seconds, you’d forget you were “mad” and fuck him in a church again. You’d break and he’d have barely worked for it. 

Steve knew this, you think. 

Because your eyes caught the subtle twitch of his lips, the fake deep sigh, the way his head leaned forward until he was at your ear. Hot breath hitting skin in a way that had goosebumps exploding over your entire body, his voice sultry and low as he asked, “Can I make it up to you?”  

“Steve…” your half-hearted start to a protest you didn’t want to give lost as he dipped lower, pressing silk lips to your neck. 

His palms brushed over the curve of your breasts, they skated down your sides, lower and lower to your hips. As your head fell back, they circled to your ass, grabbing generous handfuls and squeezing as his breath grew sharper against your collarbone. Parted lips dragging across it, the tentative trail of his tongue warm and testing. 

“We…we’re in a church,” you gulped around the words, his kisses traveling up the column of your throat now as he nudged your feet backwards. 

“Didn’t stop us the last time.” Steve’s voice was shot, a goner the minute you showed him the stockings. 

Men were too easy. 

Your legs hit a couch arm, and Steve’s fingers grabbed for your jaw gently, thumb pulling at your chin so you had to look at him. Both of your chests moved rapidly, anticipating, as you fell deeper and deeper into the moss and honey in his iris’ - lost in the forest, stuck in the sticky trap. 

His other hand roamed to the hem of your skirt, pads of his fingers buzzing over the skin above the stockings as he pulled the fabric higher. His head cocked in a way that said he knew what he was doing, the ghost of a smile on his lips telling you he knew that you weren’t mad, not really, but he’d play your game anyways.  

“Let me make you feel good, honey,” his lips brushed over yours as he spoke. The chatter of people filling the chapel right outside grew louder, but his voice remained even and soft, “It’s the least I can do, don't you think?”

Maybe you were easy too.  

Because you were nodding, and he was easing you down onto the couch. Steve knelt before you, watching you carefully, hungry, as he pulled your heels from your feet, letting them fall to the ground. 

Your palms pressed to the cushion behind you as he lifted a leg, your words swallowed and caught somewhere in your chest with your breath as he kissed your ankle bone through the thin material. Steve kept his eyes on you, warm and greedy as he kissed up your calf, at your knee until he was at the top of the thigh high. He gently laid your leg back down, and then pulled at your waist until you were at the edge of the seat. 

“You gonna be quiet for me?” 

The nod of your head was pitiful, putty in his hands and from his words as he flipped your skirt up. Steve’s lips pressed kisses to the inside of your thighs, sweet and in a slow way that had heat rising to your cheeks. Your body hot, spine turning to liquid as he nudged his nose into the damp black silk covering you, as his fingers curled into the waistband. 

Steve pulled them from you, sighing at the way they stuck to your lips. He slipped them down your legs, never letting his eyes leave the space between your thighs. He was taking his time, drinking you in with his eyes in a dirty gaze that had your entire body tightening, making you want him more than you ever had, erasing any sort of rationality or thoughts from your brain other than him and this.

His fingers tugged at your hips, squeezing possessively until a whine bubbled out of you, his name a desperate whisper, barely audible over the choir singing. 

He hummed when you spread your legs wider for him, pressing against the couch as he leaned in. His hands roamed down and back up your thighs, until they were spreading you. 

His thumbs held you apart, mouth a ghost over your cunt. Hot breath exhaled against slick lips that had your toes curling and your lungs somehow forgetting how to take in air. He had you on the ledge, and he hadn’t even started. 

Steve pushed closer, the tip of his nose a slow drag through your slit, his lips skimming over your folds behind it, tasting, testing.

His tongue finally made contact with you, a long, slow lick from your entrance to just below your clit, making you wait, making your fingers dig into the cushion and your eyes look towards the heavens.  

Steve did it again, painfully slow, the hot and wet glide of his tongue along you sinful. Over and over, flat, broad strokes of it, tasting every bit of you except for your clit, getting you higher and higher, closer to bliss without giving it to you.  

You were throbbing, an insistent and buzzing pulse under your skin demanding to be felt, demanding to break. It felt like your ears were crackling with static like the speakers the pastor was now giving his sermon in. 

Steve lifted on your hips that wiggled, caressing over the top of your ass. He stopped his movement with his tongue, panting over your cunt, letting his mouth hover against your glistening lips. 

Your chest grew heavier with each rise and fall of labored breathing as you watched Steve’s tongue flick out, tracing the curves of you and letting his nose drag and nudge behind it. Teasing and taunting, pulling every last drop of want out, your body taut and ready to snap. 

Then he looked up at you.

His cheeks flushed pink, and pupils blown wide, lit up in glittering moonlight streaming in through old and warped glass, he looked like something holy and angelic between your thighs. As if he were worshiping you, praying on his knees at your feet.

The grip he had on your hips shifted, pushing down your thighs and spreading you wider, and his voice was raspy as he asked, “You forgive me?”

Your head nodded once, fingers reaching for his hair to pull him closer, desperate for his mouth to be back on you. Your own voice shot, a pitiful whine as you begged him, “Please, need your-ohmygod.”

Steve’s spit hit your clit, making your thighs go to snap close, but his palms held you open forcefully. He wasn’t an angel worshiping, he was unholy, he was sin, he was filthy as he kept eye contact with you and dipped his mouth over you again. 

His lips molded around your pulsing nerves, tongue flicking out in a rhythm that had your entire body lit up, vibrating, fraying and sparking. His hands pushed at your thighs that resisted him, he moaned against you as you fell forward. Your fingers yanking in his hair as your hips moved against his face. 

Steve’s exhale was sharp as he released, sinking lower and dragging his tongue over your slit again. He was faster now, keeping his tongue flat against you as he lapped at your cunt, nose nudging against your clit over and over again as you rocked against it. 

“Fuck, Ste-,” your hand slapped over your mouth and your eyes widened, but Steve didn’t let up. You tugged on his hair, whimpering, and his hand rose, finger pulling at your pouting bottom lip until you were parting for him. You moaned around the black silk he shoved into your waiting mouth. 

He doubled down then, tongue prodding at your entrance, fast and precise licks up to your clit he kept working at with his nose. Steve’s heavy lidded gaze up at you had you crying out around the fabric, your chest crumpling over his head as you grinded down against his nose, unraveling for him. 

Tears pricked behind your eyes, skin hot as you came around nothing but his tongue, he hadn’t even slipped a finger into you. Steve held your waist now as you arched, letting your thighs finally close around his face as he licked over you, humming against your sensitive nerves as he greedily took in everything you gave him. 

He pulled away eventually, nose and lips skimming down your thigh until he was at your stockings. He pressed his cheek to your knee and looked up at you. Your underwear pulled from your mouth and crumpled in your fingers, your eyelashes fluttered as you tried to keep your eyes open, chest rising and falling ragged. You looked at him under your straining eyelids, warmth and affection and something far too sweet for what you two just did behind your gaze. 

The choir was singing again, Silent Night, and your fingers pressed to your lips, hiding a smile and a giggle.

He hadn’t meant to say it, but he was kind of glad he did. 

[m30wk1ttycat]

the blind leading the blind-er

relationships: simp!thomas x oblivious!reader (romantic), gally x reader (platonic, besties), minho x thomas x newt (platonic, besties) minho x gally if you squint (romantic)

warning! contains: cussing, maybe softie!gally, thomas loves his strawberry lip balm, horrible sexual jokes (about three or four, maybe five. i can't be bothered to do the math, sorry, y'all), thomas sleeps in just his boxers because i said do, KISSING (i poured my fucking heart out during the kissing scene. you're welcome)!!

summary: when a tiny little crush starts to turn into something so much more, thomas is too awkward to say it out loud, so he keeps giving not-so-subtle hints. of course, minho, his best friend keeps reassuring him that you picked up on his hints. (you didn't.)

prompt: "relationships don't really work like that, minho." "and names shouldn't work the way they do, 'cause why are you named after isaac newton? i thought he was supposed to be smart or something."

it was genuinely agonizing, in thomas' best friends' opinions. the poor kid had tried everything. truly everything. and yet, you still weren't catching up on it, as much as he tried. it was almost depressing to watch.

but at least he had them, his best friends, minho and newt, by his side?

right after leaving the maze, thomas spotted you talking to gally, not too far away from him and minho, who was standing next to him, drinking from his canteen. minho offered it to him and thomas, still panting, gladly accepted it.

"y/n is so checking you out right now," minho whispered into thomas' ear, grinning as he watched thomas almost spit out the water.

meanwhile, you were talking to the builder, about ten feet away from the runners. sure, you ocassionally found yourself glancing at thomas, but you weren't exactly checking him out. he tried to swallow the disappointment he felt at the realization, but hey, you were still looking at him. as long as it was him who you were looking at, he'd take it.

"totally checking you out. see?" minho nodded in your direction. yeah, not checking him out, sadly.

thomas rolled his eyes and handed the canteen back to him. that was his only response.

minho threw an arm around him, the canteen in his other. "come on, we got work to do," he reminded. with that, the two headed to the map room, where only the runners were allowed.

while they did their job, you helped gally carry some wood for a new project he was working on. something about replacing the unsteady chairs in the map room, you recalled him saying. the high-pitched scream coming from the building as you passed by it pretty much confirmed it.

gally groaned beside you, continuing to walk. he, along with you, tried to ignore the audible string of curses that likely came from minho who had previously been sitting on the flimsy chair.

you were about to open your mouth to say something, but gally beat you to it, a guilty expression on his face, "he's okay, i promise."

"didn't sound like it."

"he will be okay," he corrected himself.

ִֶָ𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ ★ ་༘࿐

you watched as gally searched for the sketches he drew for the new chairs - hopefully ones that don't end up collapsing under minho, bruising his poor butt.

"need help?" you offered.

"no, i know where they are," he answered, sounding frustrated. you guessed that it was because he, indeed, didn't know where they were.

he let out a defeated groan. "i don't know where they are," he announced, confirming your suspicions.

"fuck it, i'll just draw new ones.."

a beat. "and the papers are in the map room. great."

"i'll come with you if you want," you suggested, knowing that he and thomas didn't really get along. not to mention that minho would probably be mad at gally for the whole chair situation.

"fine," he agreed. once he got up from his previous kneeling position, he walked out the door of his hut, you right behind him.

already fearing minho, he reached out, gently knocking. very unlike the usual gally who'd probably kick down the door rather than actually attempt to knock.

shuffling was heard from inside the building, and much to gally's dismay, it was minho who opened the door.

"we need papers," the builder said, looking down at the runner. (minho is our short king 'cause i said so.)

"papers to draw sketches for the new chairs i was about to make to replace the old ones," gally explained. that seemed to shut minho up before he could even open his mouth to protest, thankfully. he turned around, walked over the remains of the currently very-not-intact chair, and searched for the papers that gally requested.

thomas, who was leaning on the table, smiled at you before returning to his work. though, with you there, standing in the doorway, looking like a painting as usual, he could barely focus.

minho rolled his eyes, and handed gally the papers that they - the runners - usually used for the maps of the maze. "this doesn't mean i forgive you, by the way."

"great," gally replied sarcastically and turned to leave. you jogged to catch up with him, arms crossed over your chest.

as you left, only then was he - thomas - able to focus. kind of.

minho closed the door behind you, rolling his eyes. "seriously?"

"what?" he asked, puzzled.

"that," minho said, as if that would clarify anything. either minho was bad at explaining, or thomas was dense as fuck. could've been both, though.

"meaning?"

"you were staring," he pointed out, "the whole fucking time."

"no, i wasn't," he denied.

"yes, you were."

"i wasn't," he insisted.

"you were, thomas."

"no."

"yes."

"no."

"yes."

"no."

"no."

"yes."

minho burst out laughing. "see? you said it yourself, shank."

"not fair.. you tripped me up," thomas whined.

"but you did say it, thomas," minho shrugged.

"because you tripped me up!"

"cry about it."

ִֶָ𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ ★ ་༘࿐

in the gardens, during lunch, you'd help gally with the designs for the chairs and such. apparently, multi-tasking wasn't exactly your forte, as you forgot about the food sitting next to you and instead focused on how the chair sketches were looking.

surprisingly, gally even let you help him with the chair-making once you those were done. as you were about to hand him the wood not-so-professionally thrown over your shoulder (don't do that, dumbasses!!!), your hand slipped and you ended up injuring your arm, which he tended to. he was used to having to patch up most of his builders if they got hurt - if it was a particularly bad injury, like a fractured bone, he let the med-jacks take care of it. thankfully, you just scraped your arm, which only resulted in gally scolding you like an overprotective brother. not that bad, no?

the whole chair-making thing took a few days; gathering the materials, cutting the wood, assembling, securing everything in place, sanding and prepping the almost-finished chairs, painting. how minho and thomas had the patience to wait for the new chairs, you had no idea. but, at least, these were more sturdy than the previous ones that were currently broken, in the corner of the map room, pretty much abandoned by a still angry minho.

"now we just gotta get these to minho and thomas," gally stated, looking at your creation. the chairs turned out way better than you both expected them to, honestly.

"wait, what?" you blinked once, twice, and thrice, finally processing his words. "i'm not carrying eight fucking chairs across the entire glade!"

"who said you're carrying all eight of them, genius?"

"wha-"

"come on," he encouraged with a small grin, one of the chairs already in his grasp. so, you did the same, rolling your eyes.

"dude, wait up!" you called.

"keep up, loser," he called back.

in the end, gally ended up carrying five of them, leaving you to carry the three other chairs that were left. how generous.

once you brought all eight chairs into the map room, minho eyed your handiwork. "fancy," he commented.

thomas, who had been leaning on the wall the entire time, rolled his eyes at minho. surely, he couldn't still be mad, right?

thomas turned to you and gally. "he meant to say 'thanks'."

you nodded with a small grin hidden behind your hand. with that action, thomas' brain partially malfunctioned. it was almost pathetic to watch, but at least it was entertaining.

"mhm, no problem," gally said, finally snapping thomas out of whatever thoughts he was having.

as you and gally turned to leave, thomas was met with minho's expression of 'dude, what the fuck was that?'.

"before you say anything, don't."

minho, under his breath, muttered: "i'm not sayin' anything."

moment of silence. "yet-"

"minho! shut up!"

"'shut up'? what do you mean? i'm as silent as a corpse is," he protested.

thomas internally facepalmed.

ִֶָ𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ ★ ་༘࿐

you were dragged to dinner by gally, complaining about how harsh his grasp was on your still injured hand all the while, which he apologized for.

but did he ease his grip?

yes. eventually. he'd be a bad friend if he didn't.

like usual, you were sitting with him and a few of your friends, consisting of the builders that didn't piss him off.

"what's up with you and minho?" you questioned, referring to how the runner was looking at gally. surprisingly, he didn't seem angry.

gally stiffened at that. he gave minho a glance, making the boy turn back to his friends.

"how am i supposed to know that?"

you shrugged. "dunno."

you heard your best friend huff out a breath before resuming what he was doing before. eating his food.

seemingly, frypan was in a good mood, because for dinner, you got to enjoy the taste of the creamy pasta he cooked up - pasta, not stew like yesterday, the day before yesterday, and the day before that. pasta! who the hell doesn't love pasta? (i despise you if you don't like pasta.)

and god, it was so good. most of frypan's food was, so this was expected.

if you weren't counting that one time where he accidentally used spoiled poultry to prepare chicken fried rice that most gladers would've adored had he not used - albeit unintentionally - the leftover meat in the fridge, that is. for every glader - except for thomas and teresa who hadn't been in the glade at the time - that was the most traumatizing thing to experience eating, and the aftermath of it was probably even more traumatizing. you felt bad for the sloppers who had to clean the toilets.

gally cleared his throat, turning your attention back to him. "so," he began, "you and thomas.. what's up with you two?"

you knew that gally didn't like thomas. he made it obvious. you, on the other hand, could never hate thomas. how gally could hate someone like thomas baffled you. sure, he keeps asking an unnecessary amount of questions, is a literal idiot, keeps tripping over the same root in the deadheads over and over and over again whenever you two decide to hang out there. but he's thomas. how could you ever hate him?

you tilted your head to the side, confusion clear in your eyes and overall facial expression. "what?"

"what's up with you and thomas?" he asked again. okay, copycat. very creative question to ask. "i mean, like, why does he always look like he's a second away from turning into a tomato whenever you look his way? it's ridiculous."

"he looks cute like that, what do you mean?" you argued.

"so, you like him?" he guessed, the corner of his lips twitching as if he was holding back a grin or holding back laughter.

"do you like him?"

at the question, he glared at you. "ew, no. he's not my type. and he's an idiot and i hate him. and you're changing the topic," he pointed out. "do you like him?"

"wait, what's your type?" you inquired.

he stammered in response, and minho, who was eyeing the builder for the tenth time that day, suddenly perked up. newt kicked him under the table, and before the second-in-command could tell him to stop staring, minho muttered, "shut up, i wanna hear this."

much to minho's dismay, gally's answer didn't even answer your question. "y/n, i am begging you, shut up. we're not discussing this."

minho looked disappointed to hear that, which didn't go unnoticed by.. well, anyone who was listening in on your conversation.

"why not?"

again, he glared at you. at this point, the whole conversation about you and thomas was long forgotten. the current topic was more interesting to discuss than your crush on thomas and thomas' somehow even bigger crush on you.

you sighed in defeat. "damn it."

"mhm," he hummed.

the rest of dinner was mostly silent, unless you were pestering your poor best friend about minho - each time you did, you could see minho grinning as gally almost spat out the food in his mouth. touched a nerve there, huh?

newt elbowed minho in the ribs, prompting a grunt from the runner. "stop tryin' to spy on them. mind ya business," the blond scolded.

"not even for scientific purposes?"

"you're too dumb for that."

"WHAT?? am not! shuck you, dude!"

meanwhile, thomas was just eating his food, trying his best-est (i know that's not a word, shut the fuck up) to not look at you. but what if.. newt and minho were too busy arguing, gally would probably be eating. nothing could go wrong.

except it did.

"tommy, quit starin' at 'em."

"I WASN'T EVEN-"

"you so were," minho interjected.

"so were you!!" thomas exclaimed. at this rate, if no one turned to look at them, trying to find out why they were arguing, it'd be shocking.

minho lifted a shoulder, "yeah, but i wasn't looking at y/n."

"ew," thomas muttered in disgust. gally, in his opinion, was an asshole, and likely forever would be. most, if not all, gladers knew that.

"come on, he's hot," the asian argued, newt beside him this close to facepalming. but could anyone blame him? this wasn't exactly an appropriate topic to be talking about during dinner, where literally anyone could hear you.

"good night." with that, thomas stood up from the table, going to get his plate cleaned off.

minho looked very offended.

ִֶָ𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ ★ ་༘࿐

slowly, it was getting colder outside. yet, you kept waiting for thomas in the deadheads, where you always hung out.

you were about to head back into the glade to grab one of your old, but warm, sweaters. but, before you could even move your foot to take a step, thomas greeted you, panting.

"hey," he breathed out, pushing his damp hair back. "OH, SHIT-" you heard him exclaim as he inevitably tripped over the tree root. the same one that he always tripped over. it wouldn't be thomas otherwise.

you were quick to catch him, his hand landing on the bandaged part of your arm which you injured during the not-so-little chair-building project with gally. as much as you didn't want him to, he caught your hiss.

"are you okay? did i hurt you?" he asked, worry evident in both his tone and expression, brows furrowed and voice soft.

"i'm okay, i'm okay," you reassured. "are you?"

"mhm! thanks.. and, um, sorry."

a look of realization crossed his face. "fuck, m'sorry. am i late?"

"a little bit, yeah," you admitted. "it's fine, though."

you heard him sigh out in relief as he adjusted his shirt. the shirt clung to his still wet skin - obviously, he was in a rush, but he still somehow managed to be late. now that? that was a skill issue.

"good shower?" at your question, he nodded, still trying to catch his breath. "good shower," he repeated.

he smiled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck, a little embarrassed with himself for already making a fool out of himself barely a minute into his time with you.

you took in the sight of him. wet, indeed. only not a bit, but a lot. for a moment there, you found yourself questioning whether or not he knew that towels existed for a reason.

"i'm still a bit wet," he added, realizing how bad that sounded a beat later. he immediately wanted to smack himself in the forehead. if he could, he'd apologize about what he said, probably even elaborate on how he meant it in case you took it the wrong way, but he was too focused on you eyeing him. sure, you might not have been checking him out on purpose, but he'd take it either way.

snapping him back to reality was the sentence that left your mouth. if he wasn't blushing before, he definitely was now.

"must've been a pretty good shower if you're still that wet," you said. unintentional or not, you were slowly beggining to laugh at your own quip. it wasn't even that funny, he'd argue.

"come on, i didn't- fuck, i didn't mean it like-" you heard him begin to say, only for him to stop in the middle of his sentence as he looked at you like a deer in headlights. he could only hope his reddened cheeks wouldn't be too visible in the dark as he tried to justify himself. "y/n, you know i didn't mean it like that," he finished, a whine to his voice.

his reaction was priceless. the eyes? the cheeks? the stuttering? all of it and more, you'd pay to see again.

"tomato, tamahto" was your reply.

he pouted, already knowing that you were definitely going to be taking the piss out of him for the rest of the month. no, scratch that - for his entire life. he could only hope that you were going to go a little easy on him, but given how you already found his blunder hilarious, he knew he wasn't going to be getting off a light.

he huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. he wasn't very good at pretending to be mad at you, but it was worth a shot. he didn't last a full minute before he was cracking up too.

"i hate you," he said through his laughter.

"no, you don't," you argued. "you adore me, just admit it."

he was tempted to do as you said. you could tell him to get on his knees, and he'd do it within half a second.

but maybe, just maybe, if he could just not say a word-

"i do, yeah," he admitted. immediately, he slapped a hand over his mouth, a guilty expression on his face.

"thought so."

"shut uppp," he whined through his fingers clasped over his mouth.

"what, now you don't want to hear my voice? i thought you-"

effectively shutting you up before you could finish what you were saying were thomas' lips against yours slightly chapped ones (due to the freezing tempetarures in the glade tonight). for a while, you stood still, taken aback. he was about to pull away, thinking he did something wrong, but then your hands settled on his hips, grabbing and grasping at the fabric of his grey sweatpants as a desperate attempt to have his body pressed against yours. the cold was getting to you and you needed to get warmed up, would be your excuse.

sadly, air was a thing that humans all desperately needed to live. that was the only reason you found yourselves, albeit hesitantly, withdrawing your lips from one another. if you could survive without oxygen, you'd gladly continue.

his hand found itself on your chin, adjusting your face so he could kiss you more. you were his oxygen.

his blunt fingernails clawed at your back to pull you flush against him. it was messy, desperate, and you could've sworn you heard your teeth clashing against his. if you weren't too busy trying to move the way he wanted you to, you'd be worried about chipping a tooth. that, however, was the last thing on your mind. just thomas.

he nipped at your bottom lip, begging for the entrance that you gladly granted him. in comparison to the first, in which you were confused for a moment, this felt way sloppier, more handsier.. not that you minded, you'd love to spend each and every one of your nights like this.

the brunet's back hit the rough tree bark as you pushed him against it, and, not even hesitating, you swallowed the pained moan prompted by your action. you had no clue how it happened, how you went from teasing the boy about a damn shower to being tongue-deep in his mouth. not that you were complaining. it wasn't like you could, mouth too occupied to mutter out a single thing that wasn't a moan.

after a couple seconds of this, you broke for air, panting in each other's faces.

"you taste like strawberries," you commented.

"do you not like my strawberry lip balm?" he rasped out, a pout on his lips.

"i don't," you confirmed. "fuckin' love it. c'mere."

he, without any form of hesitation, obeyed, tongues meeting to continue what you were doing just moments before. his hands, needing something to hold on to, moved under your shirt, taking you by surprise with how warm his hands were unlike yours. yours were cold - freezing, even.

tongues tangled, spit smeared over your kiss-swollen lips, you wished you would never have to draw back, as much as your lungs burned with an aching need for oxygen. meanwhile, your lips yearned for his. you yearned for him. how you were just now finding out would've shocked you in any normal scenario, but now your mind was hazy, all thoughts that weren't thomas blurry.

thomas' fingers dug crescent-moon shapes into your poor, poor back. instinctively, you backed him up against the tree yet again, this time with your hips. thomas was pretty sure he was in fucking heaven.

his head tipped back, and, as if he wasn't letting out enough noises before, he let out something between a sob and a moan. did that stop you guys, though? no. of course not. the gladers could listen in on y'all all they wanted, yet your only focus would be thomas.

his mouth was open, gasping for air, his chest heaving with each harsh breath he took. not a sight you saw often, but certainly something your eyes weren't minding witnessing.

"oh," he groaned, "fuck!"

for a runner, he was getting overwhelmed rather quickly. it was adorable to see.

"was that too much for you?" you questioned sarcastically.

"no," he insisted. "keep going. please. need you, please."

well, he requested it, so.. who were you to deny him what he wanted, much less needed?

too desperate to wait for you to kiss him, he initiated the kiss this time, slipping his tongue into your mouth without a warning. unfair much? you were about to kiss him!

his lips parted from yours, curving up to a smile at the corners. "we should-" he paused, inhaling with a gasp before continuing, "-do that more often."

"we should," you agreed.

eventually, after his breathing returned to normal, he asked, "one more?"

he pouted, giving you those puppy eyes of his. with how close you were to giving in, just because of those eyes, you were sure that before the glade he had to have graduated some sort of 'puppy eyes' school. which you were sure - and you also hoped - didn't exist. "y'know," he continued, "a little 'goodnight' kiss?"

meanwhile, you were still struggling to get the air into your lungs. so, taking your silence as an agreement, he kissed your cheek, his hands which were previously under your shirt cupping your face.

"there," he announced. "now come on, alby's gonna kill us if he catches us here."

he caught your hand in his, leading you back to the homestead.

if someone just popped out out of nowhere and saw how utterly wrecked he looked, he'd cry himself to sleep. genuinely. and to think you haven't even done anything more than kissing.

like the gentleman he was, he walked you to your hut, kissed you once again. apparently, just so you didn't forget how his lips felt. however, the both of you knew that that wasn't the real reason.

walking back to his own hut, he found himself speedwalking the second that gally somehow appeared in the hallway. he didn't feel like explaining anything that happened that night. not that be was embarrassed by it, no, of course not. if the consequences didn't exist, he'd be bragging about it to each and every one of his friends - except chuck, the kid didn't need to be traumatized by that. he knew that he'd get teased, though. he shook those thoughts off and instead, his brain went to you.

that night, he fell asleep smiling to himself.

ִֶָ𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ ★ ་༘࿐

the next morning, he slept in.

"thomas," minho muttered, poking his cheek. thomas, sleeping, turned away, face buried into his pillow.

minho groaned, running a hand over his face in frustration. he was not having it.

"THOMAS, GOD FUCKING DAMN IT!" he exclaimed. he may or may not have woken up the entire glade with that, but at least thomas was up. finally.

"get your ass up. we've got work to do."

"five more minutesssss," the brunet pleaded, glancing up at minho from under his eyelashes.

"five seconds," minho corrected. "up."

thomas let out a loud groan, voice cracking. that, he'd blame on his hormones.

he practically rolled out of bed, slipping on a random shirt he had thrown over the chest in the corner of his room. minho, to be respectful, walked away, arms crossed. "try to make it quick, shank."

"uh-huh!" thomas called sleepily, ruffling his hair up. he bent down to grab a pair of pants, socks already on for some weird reason. since when did he sleep with socks on? shimmying into the jeans he picked out ('cause that ass too fat), he zipped them up, and adjusted his shirt afterwards. oh, and let's not forget the runners' harness.

within three minutes, thomas was out of the hut, still half-asleep, but thankfully not half-naked. with a proud smile, he closed the door behind him. "i exist," he announced.

"attaboy," minho replied, patting his back.

thomas tilted his head to look at minho. "breakfast?"

"mhm," he confirmed, already dragging him by the arm. thomas' half-functioning brain decided not to process that, apparently.

"min?" he called.

"yes, thomas?"

"what's for breakfast?" he was about to give minho time to answer, but then decided he'd much rather play a guessing game instead of letting the older boy talk. "ooh, sandwiches?"

"mmm hmm," minho drawled. "enough with the questions, though. i'm not awake enough for this, okay?"

"oh, okay!"

minho raised an eyebrow. sleepy thomas was definitely more.. understanding than the usual thomas. now minho wanted thomas to be groggy and barely conscious all the time.

"min," he called again, tapping his shoulder. "the ones with chicken?"

nevermind.

minho's voice came out more irritated than originally intended to, but fuck it. it wasn't like he could do anything about it. "thomas, i really, really, really don't know."

"'cause i hate those with chicken," thomas murmured.

"sit down."

before actually complying, he let out a noise of protest. then, he plopped into the chair, head in his hands. coffee would really be appreciated right now.

soon, minho joined him at the table, newt half-asleep next to the him. minho passed something to thomas. a veggie sandwich - thankfully, without chicken. "here."

thomas lifted his head up from his hands, grabbing the sandwich in an instant. "thanks, dude."

"mhm," he replied. newt next to him leaned back in his chair, blond hair tied up into a half up half down man bun, a few stray hairs here and there getting into his eyes.

"your shirt's on backwards," newt informed. minho's eyebrows scrunched in confusion and checked his shirt, only to find that it wasn't his shirt that was backwards. just slightly lifted at his side, revealing his hip, which he made sure to fix.

thomas, meanwhile, was eating his sandwich. once swallowing, he looked at the two older guys, head cocked. "what?"

"your shirt's on backwards," newt glared at minho for stealing his line. "okay, copycat," they said in sync. newt, annoyed yet panicked, flailed his arms around, trying to come up with a response. "stop doing that, you dick" was the only thing he managed to say.

minho looked utterly betrayed.

meanwhile, thomas took his shirt off to put it on. correctly, this time.

"thomas, are you stripping? in front of us? ew, do that in front of y/n, shuck-face," minho grumbled, shaking his head.

thomas groaned, adjusting his shirt. "does that mouth of yours ever shut the fuck up? or do you need someone to shut it for you? huh?"

minho's jaw dropped. "okay, rude."

"drama queen.." and his jaw dropped even more.

"i feel insulted."

"good. that's what you get for not telling me my shirt was on backwards."

"DUDE! i literally just told you!"

"no, i did. i said it first," newt said, a bit more harshly than intended. "sorry, just don't want you gettin' credit for something you didn't do."

he scowled. "you're supposed to be on my side!"

"yeah, and? you fucking copied me. that's so bitchy."

"i'm not a bitch, take it the fuck back."

newt's mouth opened and closed, almost frantically as he tried to come up with something to say, preferably something along the lines of "no". any sort of refusal.

but alby interrupted them as he came into the room, the door slamming shut behind his back.

"people are trying to sleep, if you haven't noticed. slim it," he grumbled.

"sorry," the two gladers said in unison. again. thomas swallowed his sandwich and joined them, saying, "yeah, uh, sorry."

oops.

ִֶָ𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ ★ ་༘࿐

usually, after they returned from the maze, they'd catch their breath, head into the map room to work, and then work-out. today was different. today, they spent the rest of the day gossiping with newt, who joined the two runners with snacks freshly picked from the gardens: berries!

and then you and gally joined, to newt and thomas' shock. minho knew that you'd be stopping by, he just couldn't be bothered to tell the others.

when you came into sight, thomas smiled, happy to see you. especially after last night, why wouldn't he be?

"hey, gal!" minho's greeting shouldn't have been as excited-sounding as it was. for a reason he couldn't quite explain - at least, without getting embarrassed about it a second later - gally liked it.

"and hi, y/n," he added.

newt merely waved his hand, a little awkwardly.

you gave them a nod of acknowledgement, mumbling a quiet "hi."

"hey," said gally before turning his attention to what you were initially here for: getting rid of the remains of the broken chair and the other chairs that were on the verge of collapsing, something that in no way was similar to simping over the runners.

once you were done, you, the runners, and newt said your goodbyes and returned to what you were doing before. you, reading a book. gally, calling each and everyone one of the builders slintheads - for him, it was a hobby at this point.

back in the map room, the two runners discussed what changed in the maze, newt listening to them talk. somehow, the topic shifted to minho's beloved hair gel, jeff's perfectionism, alby's short temper, and thomas' love life?

"thomas, dude, i love you. in a platonic way. but you're an idiot," minho said, shaking his head in disapproval. "why don't you just tell 'em? y'know.. then, just make sweet, sweet love to 'em."

thomas' cheeks flushed. he wished he could be anywhere but in this building. ideally on the other side of the glade, as far away from minho as possible.

"relationships don't really work like that, mate."

"and names shouldn't work the way they do, 'cause why are you named after isaac newton? i thought he was supposed to be smart or something." newt rolled his eyes as minho continued, "also, relationships do work like that. it's never too late to admit you've never had one, y'know.."

"tommy, don't listen to him," newt pleaded.

".. why would i ever listen to minho when he's trying to give advice?" thomas mumbled. one time, minho told him to wear a cropped shirt, because it'd look good on him - in minho's words. since minho was his best friend, he listened to him. never in his life would he ever again take his advice. the bullying.. oh, the bullying. that was something he wouldn't wish upon anyone, not even upon his worst enemy.

"shuck you," minho all but exclaimed, pointing at the former runner. he began to point at thomas, too. "both of you. shuck you."

"YOU'RE THE ONE GIVING SHITTY ADVICE!"

minho feigned a frown, pretending to be sad. it looked like he was a severely constipated five year old kid more than anything. thomas and newt being the good friends they were only snickered at his expression, exchanging glances while minho whined, "am not!! i'm deeply hurt by this, and i am so not sitting with you during dinner."

"sit with gally, then," thomas offered, shrugging. newt coughed before letting out a laugh, covering his mouth with the back of his hand. soon, thomas joined him with the wheezing.

to minho, this was not as funny as it was to the other two.

ִֶָ𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ ★ ་༘࿐

apparently, minho took thomas' offer way too seriously and he ended up joining him during dinner. feeling too awkward to have to watch the two flirt over literal beef stew, you excused yourself from the table and sat with thomas, who had been sitting alone, instead.

newt was sitting with alby, discussing something important. what they were talking about, you had no clue and neither did thomas.

not that he really cared, anyways. you were literally sitting next to him, and that was the only thing he could care about. you were sitting next to him. you were sitting next to him!! he knew he shouldn't be as influenced by your presence as he currently was, but it wasn't like he could really help it. he'd been in love with you since, well, forever - forever being the one month he's been in the glade.

he nibbled at his food for a while before swallowing.

"how was work?" he asked.

"well, it was chaotic. as usual," you answered truthfully. "how was the maze?"

he shrugged. "y'know.. the usual, trying not to run into a wall, trying to avoid getting turned into a griver snack."

"fun," you commented, grinning.

"yeah, real fun, having to listen to minho ramble about how mad he is at newt," he complained.

you glanced at the second-in-command, then at the keeper of the runners. "how come?"

"minho copying newt and giving shitty advice."

you tilted your head, puzzled. you figured the advice in question must've been horrible if it got him into a fight with newt, and it must've been a pretty bad fight if minho talked about it the entire run. "what kind of shitty advice?"

thomas stiffened.

silence.

"uh.."

more silence.

"well-"

"spit it out, thomas."

"he told newt that he should cut his hair," he lied. "that he wouldn't have to deal with getting his hair in his eyes when he's working in the garden."

"oh."

"newt loves his hair," he explained. god, he was a bad liar, wasn't he? surely, you'd find out. eventually. right??

"you can't exactly blame him," you said. he breathed a sigh of relief.

"yeah, his hair is gorgeous," he agreed.

"i like your hair better, though," you admitted. he was taken aback for a moment, nearly dropping the cutlery that was in his hands.

"you do, huh?"

"damn right, i do," you confirmed, jokingly ruffling his hair. it was so soft, like cashmere. as you toyed with his hair, he was internally cheering. had he just won in life? because it sure felt like it.

"i'm flattered," he attempted to joke - when, really, it wasn't a joke in the slightest. that might've been the first compliment that he'd ever gotten about his looks in his entire life - well, now, in the glade.

you simply smiled and took you hand back. for a moment there, he was tempted to tell you to leave your hand where it was. had the gladers not been watching, you would've happily listened and even let him put it back where it previously had been tangled in his messy, brown locks.

"sooo, uh, question," he drawled, looking you up and down with a grin, telling you that he was about to say something stupid as fuck. it was thomas, after all - by this point, you were pretty much used to it, and so was everyone else.

"go on," you encouraged as you brought the fork to your mouth to chew on the meat.

"like.. what are we?"

you let out a small yelp as you bit into you fork. as you swallowed, thomas patiently waited for a response, finger rapping against the wooden table. "sorry," he murmured, feeling guilty. "don't answer if you don't want to. just curious, y'know, after last night."

you shook your head in 'it's fine', and thought about an answer that you could possibly give him, only to find out you had no clue what to say. what were you? you wanted him to be your boyfriend, that was for sure. uncertain, you settled for, "what do you want us to be?"

"i want to be yours." it took you off guard - well, not it, as in the sentence itself, but how eager he sounded. you weren't opposed to it, though.

"and i want you to be mine," you confessed. "thomas, will you be my boyfriend?"

immediately, he said, "yes."

if he could, he would've kissed you right then and there. sadly, he had an audience of 40 teenage boys + teresa. he was not going to give them a show that entertaining to watch.

you lifted yourself up from your seat and walked away to get your bowl cleaned off. he promptly followed, basically running after you with a puppy-like look in his eyes. "wait up! please?? come on, i love you!"

"yeah, love you, too, tommy," you called back.

"i'm serious!!" he cried. once he caught up, his hand found yours. you felt him squeeze slightly and you looked at him. he pouted, feigning offense.

"so am i," you reassured.

"good."

[undeadcannibal]

141 team +könig with reader that scratches at their arms and neck till they bleed please:]

Summary: How Task Force 141 and  would react to a Reader that scratches at their arms or neck.

Genre: Headcanons, request(s) Characters featured: Price, Soap, Gaz, Ghost, and König

Warnings: mentions of scratching, etc.

A/N:  I got you, Anon. Spent my adolescent years struggling with that T-T Hopefully you enjoy! And as always, thank you for the request! <3 I tried giving everyone a bit of a different reason as to why just for a bit of variation. I hope that is alright. c:  ( Gif credit: xxx )

Gaz―

He catches you in the middle of relieving the itchiness of your forearms, taking a moment to realize what's going on before he tries to encourage you to stop in a calm and soft manner. 

He won't freak out, he'll just ask what's up, really just wants to ensure you're okay overall. 

Much like John, he won't pry for an answer if you truly don't want to give one, buuuut that doesn't mean he'd stop worrying about you. 

You mention that it's nothing too serious, it's unfortunately something you resort to in times of major stress. 

He doesn't pretend to understand what you deal with, but he's there to help regardless. 

Personally, he likes helping you take care of yourself. He won't hold it against you if you can't help but give in to scratching. 

Let him patch you up so he can tell you jokes or stories to distract you from thinking about everything, even if only for a little while. 

Soft but calloused hands drifting up your forearms carefully, making sure not to hurt you too much as he helps clean and patch you up. 

Do well and he says he'll give you a kiss as a reward for good behavior~ 

Ghost―

He notices something's up quickly. Whether you prefer to hide the marks of not, he wastes little time in asking you about it. 

He'll bring it up when the two of you are alone, or are at least out of earshot of anyone else. He won't want to embarrass you, but he'll be curious. 

I think Simon would ask a lot of questions at first: "What happened?" "Why do you have the impulse?" and "…Does it hurt?" or "Does it bother you much?" because he'd want to know why before helping. 

You mention that you struggle with allergies a lot, and in turn, sometimes don't realize just how bad it's gotten until it's too late. 

Unfortunately, the entire insides of your forearms suffer the most and as a result, are covered in large patches of scabs from previous bouts of itchiness. 

He wouldn't have noticed it had you not needed to pull up the sleeves of your shirt, revealing them to him. 

After you give him your answer, he won't say much, but I can see him silently telling you to stay put. He disappears only to return with a first-aid kit. 

While he might not fully understand what you're dealing with, he does help care for your wounds and patches you up. Even reminding you to change the bandages daily just in case you need a reminder. 

He might not be the best at helping heal others, but he does try to be there for you in his own ways. 

Price―

The first time he notices the marks on your neck, his eyes are widening and his jaw is clenching, numerous conflicting emotions rushing through him all at once. 

At first, he's unsure of the best approach for you, but eventually decides to just calmly ask you the next time the two of you are alone. 

Price doesn't want to pry -- he won't force an answer out of you if you haven't told him on your own time. So, he simply asks if he can help. 

If you choose to let him, he'll sweetly - and silently - tend to your neck and recommend some personal remedies since he's had many types of wounds over the years. He likes to joke that at his age, he's got an answer for everything. 

If you do decide to let him in, he's all ears: listening to you without adding in any unnecessary comments. Waiting until you explain that you struggle with a skin condition - have since you were born - and when the weather changes, that can be the worst for it at times. Sending you into a fit of resisting and giving in when you can no longer bear it. 

Like Soap, after he hears this, he does his best to try and help you. Whether that's gently reminding you to resist scratching as much as possible, or helping you care for it afterward. It doesn't matter. 

John just wants to help. 

Ooh, also asks if you'd like to borrow one of his scarves, just in case you'd like to cover up. If not, he doesn't take it personally. 

Soap―

At first, I can see him thinking the marks are possibly hickeys from afar. Once he realizes that its actually marks from you scratching at your neck, he's quick to apologize for his assumption. 

Afterwards, he'll soften his approach. Speaking quietly to you, bringing you somewhere where the two of you can have a private conversation over things. 

Like Simon, he's a curious man. He just wants to understand why. Though, he'll also understand if it's something you're not comfortable discussing. 

You mention it's a horrible habit you've struggled to break throughout the years, but even so, you're working on it. 

Either way, he just wants to make sure you're okay.

He helps patch you up if you allow him to. 

After he makes sure you're taken care of and tended to, I can see him wanting to help distract you if he can as well. 

He'll make sure the two of you do something that will help you keep your hands occupied with tasks. 

When he can, he helps keep you too busy to scratch, if he can help it, and if you're willing to put up with him. 

Please do, he just wants to be a sweet and helpful man~ 

König―

His eyes widen when he catches sight of the marks on your neck. At first, he's worried someone else hurt you and frankly, is out. For. Blood. Until you explain otherwise. 

If you choose to let him in as to why you scratch, he'll nod silently, letting you know he understands. 

If you let him know that the marks on your neck are from you scratching - for numerous reasons you don't delve into - König is silent for a while. Taking in everything you mentioned before nodding quietly. 

He doesn't get upset or hold it against you. 

Similar to Ghost, I personally see him as the strong and silent type during moments like this. 

His anxiety makes him worry and overthink any response that comes to mind, so he ends up not saying anything. Afraid that he'll say the wrong thing and accidentally offend you. 

Still, despite the silence, you can tell he means well. 

His large hands are a bit rough from years of warfare but even so, he touches you so gently that you barely even notice. Or care for that matter. 

Allowing him to tend to your wounds helps the both of you; it reassures you that he cares about you in his own ways. And, he likes being able to care for you, even if he can't really help stop you from scratching at your own skin. 

Really, he just likes to be as helpful as he can possibly be.

[wileys-russo]

golden boot, golden girl II r.daly x reader

this started off as a blurb but about 2.3k words later, it's a fic 🕺

golden boot, golden girl II r.daly x reader

"go on girls push up on em, hug em tight!" katie cupped her hands over her mouth and shouted to you all from the corner as you began to shove in as close to the goal as you could get. you were two down and though you refused to check, you knew your time to get anything on the score sheet was running out fast.

as katie connected for the kick the ball came in hard and fast, angled almost perfectly for you to get your head on it and hopefully send it into the back of the net. 

however you felt an elbow dig into your back and with a half step forward you lost your footing, falling to the ground and glancing up to see the ball fly right over you toward the back post, quickly kicked out of play by a defender as the final whistle sounded and the crowd errupted with cheers, the villa players all running to celebrate with one another in the middle of the field.

letting out a deep sigh you rolled onto your back and stayed laid down on the pitch, feeling the warm afternoon sun bathe your face as you covered your eyes with your arm. "come on up now, no time for sulking." manu kicked gently at you as you lazily swatted her foot away and mumbled something she didn't quite catch, the older woman retreating to console the rest of your team.

"hey you, you played really well." another gentle poke to your side. 

you removed your arm and squinted one eye open to meet the caring and concerned gaze of your former team mate, jordan smiling sympathetically as she sat down beside you on the pitch. "i missed three sitters and gave away two free kicks, one of which was scored from!" you grumbled in annoyance, slumping your arm back over your face with a sigh.

"that doesn't mean you didn't play well, the better team just won." jordan poked teasingly again at your side, the older girl having been somewhat of a sisterly figure in the years you'd played together you knew she didn't mean anything by the comment. 

"i am at least glad you're getting the minutes you deserve jordy." you pulled yourself up into a sitting position, the older girl wrapping you in a tight hug before excusing herself to celebrate with her team as you once more flopped back down onto the pitch. 

much as you were at first angry and disappointed when she'd informed you of her transfer, with time you understood why it was needed, and her successful season had only confirmed it for you further.

"oi lazy, the grass called and complained you're squashin it!" a much less gentle kick to your side had you glancing up at the grinning irish woman who offered you a hand. though you should have known better than to accept, as just after your fingers touched she was quick to drop her grip, sending you stumbling back onto your bum.

"mccabe!" you brushed yourself off and glared up at her, kicking your legs out to try and sweep hers out from under her but you were much too slow as she sent you a cheeky wink. 

"come on then, up we get now!" with that she grabbed your hands again, this time properly pulling you up and slinging a strong arm across your shoulders. 

marching the two of you across the field she talked your ear off about not being so hard on yourself, which given the nature of the fact you were your own harshest critic, was a speech you'd heard after almost every match you played. and if it wasn't from her, it was just coming from someone else.

after shaking hands with most of your opposition, exchanging friendly end of season small talk with those you knew well from playing at a national level, you found yourself again sat on the pitch but this time sandwiched inbetween leah and katie, across from you were rafa, beth and viv, the six of you sat in a circle soaking up the sun and discussing your upcoming planned holidays during the off season.

"how's it feeling?" you quietly murmured to leah glancing down at her bandaged knee where her crutches lay beside her, resting your head on her shoulder. even without needing her to confirm you knew she wasn't okay, but you'd also known her long enough to know she wasn't someone easily pushed into opening up. 

"physically? it's alright. everything else? story for another time." the blonde pressed a kiss to your forehead, affectionately patting your leg and nodding for viv to give her a hand up. as your circle dispersed you wandered around looking around for the one person you were yet to speak to, who was also the one you'd been dying to all match.

"hi squinty." tattooed arms wrapped tightly around you from behind, rough but warm lips pressed a few soft kisses to your jawline as you spun around in your girlfriends hold. "you promised you'd stop calling me that." you huffed, smacking at her shoulder as the blonde grinned, loving nothing more than to tease and wind you up and boy was she good at it, and in any way that she wanted.

"well if you wore your contacts when you played or your glasses every other day, i wouldn't need to, would i?" rachel teased, hands moving to rest on your hips as she pushed you softly into the barrier behind you, pressing her body into yours and leaning in. you closed your eyes expecting her lips to touch yours however they simply pressed a kiss to your cheek and she stepped away.

"sorry i can't be seen snogging losers, its bad for my reputation." she shrugged crossing her arms over her chest as you rolled your eyes. but your girlfriend knew she was the only person who could get away with sledging you after a loss without you taking it personally, she was avidly also your biggest supporter and made sure not to let you forget it.

"didn't realise your reputation as a naff muppet would be affected by kissing a cute girl." you shot back jumping up to sit on the edge of the barrier, crossing your own arms over your chest with a satisfied smirk. "oh a naff muppet she says does she?" rachel scoffed, slotting her body inbetween your legs as you nodded in confirmation.

"yeah look i've actually been meaning to end this-" you gestured between the two of you, "-we had our fun and all babe but really i'm just...i'm just too out of your league. i can't keep settling it's a bad look, fitties have to date fitties and..." you trailed off, looking her up and down with a wince.

"you were the best 557 night stand i ever had kid." you continued dramatically with a sigh, placing your hands either side of her face and squeezing her cheeks as she stared blankly back at you, waiting patiently for you to finish. 

"it's not you it's me. ahh i like you too much, i'm holding you back. what else? oh! in order for us to be a better we, i have to be a better me." you paused to think before continuing, finishing with a beaming grin at the unimpressed look on the older girls face. "are you done then?" she quipped with a roll of her eyes.

"yeah i think that pretty much covers it?" you stroked your chin mockingly, looking off into the distance with a contemplative hum. though you let out a yell as suddenly you were looking at the ground again, your girlfriend easily slinging your smaller form over her shoulder.

"rach! put me down." you couldn't help but laugh as the blonde smacked playfully at your bum with her free hand. "i will, gonna water board you in this cooler here first though." your girlfriend replied, waving to your team mates who called our their usual teasing remarks, you flipping them off as you were carried past. 

"wait i have to go get my stuff!" you tried to jump down as she walked off the field and toward the villa change rooms, though her hold on you only tightened. "as the one whose just been dumped i get to go first thanks." 

~

"kiss it!" you struggled underneath the taller girl as she sat on top of you, arms firmly pressed to the bed by her knees as she grinned, the seasons golden boot trophy held tightly in her hands.

"no! i refuse." you pressed your head back into the pillow, shaking your head from side to side as she wiggled the shoe shaped piece of silverware in your face. "baby you either kiss it willingly and i get off ya and we go to dinner, or we continue on like this and you miss out on your pizza." the blonde shrugged, looking down at you.

"are you threatening me right now?" your eyes narrowing at the thought of missing out on eating at your favorite restaurant. 

the two of you hadn't been on a proper date in what felt like months, and rachel had made sure as soon as the fixtures for your final game of the season came out she had a table booked and your evening plans locked down.

though that's not to say the blonde wouldn't keep her word and make you miss out. both of you hot headed and quick to rise to a challenge, sometimes your arguments could last days without either of you willing to compromise, both just as stubborn as one another.

"no i'm promising." your girlfriend smirked, hands resting either side of your head as she slowly lent down, ghosting her lips over yours without any actual contact and pulling away with a teasing smile, wiggling her trophy mockingly in your face once again.

"fine." you muttered with a glare, quickly pecking the cool metal and trying to sit up but your girlfriend pushed you back, head thumping into your pillow. "no, a proper kiss." the girl smiled smugly, feeling your body let out a deep exhale of annoyance beneath her. 

"i am not snogging your trophy just to placate your inflamed fragile ego!" you warned seriously, eyes glaring daggers up at her, only spurring her on further. "well then you're also not getting your pizza baby." rachel shrugged simply, holding out the golden boot expectantly as you threw your head back and let out a loud frustrated groan.

"this is for you, my beloved bella italia." you looked up to the ceiling and spoke, dedicating your actions to your favorite italian restaurant, properly macking on with your girlfriends trophy for a few seconds.

"i hate you daly." you huffed, shoving her harshly off of you as she collapsed onto the bed, clutching at her chest to try and catch her breath, loud booming laughter echoing around the room. "i'm hiring someone to come and take that and throw it in the river when we're in portugal!" you warned bluntly, sitting up and glaring down at your still laughing girlfriend.

"she didn't mean it don't worry you're coming with us to portugal." rachel whispered reassuringly to the trophy in her hands, stretching over to place it down on her side table and grabbing at the back of your shorts as you rolled your eyes and tried to leave, pulling you back down onto the bed and trapping you in a tight hug.

"kiss me like i'm a golden boot." the blonde whispered seductively before her face broke into a grin and she pressed her lips to yours, cold hands wandering up your jersey as her tongue slid into your mouth, your hands pressing on the back of her head to deepen the kiss only spurring her on further.

"you're insufferable." you pulled away, gently biting down on her bottom lip as you did, the girl on top of you holding back a moan. "you're insufferable." she echoed back, a pause lingering between the two of you before your mouth curled into a smile and you pushed your head up to continue the kiss.

your golden boot winning girl, and you couldn't be prouder.

[dizscreams]

Hey could I request Sam x fem reader where reader was friends with Tara and the twins, then starts dating Sam in secret. They attend a party and a guy is too flirty and weird towards reader so protective Sam swoops in

YESS PROTECTIVE SAM <33

Secret Love — Sam Carpenter ★

PAIRING: Sam x fem!reader

SUMMARY: you and Sam are in a secret relationship. when someone gets too touchy and flirty at a party Sam steps in

WARNINGS: none!

You were at a frat party with Tara, Chad, Mindy, Anika, Ethan, and Sam. Sam is your girlfriend of almost a year now. After all you went through in Woodsboro together you guys got closer and it was easy since you already knew Tara and the twins beforehand.

She thought it’d be best to have your relationship be a secret because she wasn’t ready for anything public after Richie and you understood. It sucked not being able to just kiss her at public events like this but you both always managed. Small touches, hand holding so you both won’t get “lost”, Sam always whispering stuff in your ear. Mindy and Anika had their suspicions but along with everyone, ruled it out as you two just being best friends.

You and Tara were shocked she actually came to this party, Anika and Chad were pretty excited though. They loved dragging everyone to shit like this. Sam told you she came because she wanted to keep an eye on you but you liked to think it was because she missed you. Which was probably the case.

You had separated from the group temporarily to get a drink from the kitchen, you figured you could at least have a little fun tonight. You were stressed enough with exams coming up so this was the least you could do to get your mood up. Without realizing it you had bumped into a guy and spilt your drink.

“Shit, I’m sorry-”

“You wanna watch where you’re fucking going?”

The guy was clearly drunk but you rolled your eyes, not really caring for his attitude. “I said sorry.” You tried walking away but he grabbed your arm pulling you back in front of him. “Let go of me.” You struggled to get out of his grasp since this guy was clearly stronger than you, he was basically towering over you. “Cmon sweetheart, you owe me. This is a nice shirt.”

“I dont owe you shit!” You yelled, hopefully getting someone’s attention but you think the music was too loud. He chuckled, “Lets go.”, and tried dragging you away before he got pushed into the counter, causing him to let go. “Get the fuck away from her.” You recognized the voice to be Sam’s and quickly went over to her. “Thank god, come on let’s go, Sam.”

“One second.” She said while going towards the guy who was muttering swears as he tried standing up straight. “Sam, don’t do anything stup-“

You tried telling her, but she had already gotten her taser and tased him in the balls. Everyone around you guys shouted “ooo” and “holy shit!”

“Okay, now we can go!” She grabbed your hand and you both quickly made your way out of the kitchen while giggling and went to look for your friends. You went to find Mindy and Anika while Sam tried finding Ethan, Tara, and Chad.

You found Anika and Mindy on the couch talking. “Cmon, Min we gotta go Sam tased someone.”

“What? Why?”

“This guy was being weird to me so she helped me out.”

Mindy gave Anika a look and a slight smirk before grabbing her hand and getting up, “Alright.”

Tara, Chad, Ethan, and Sam caught up with you guys and you all walked back to the apartments. Sam let everyone walk ahead of you guys before she gave you a quick peck on the lips.

“I told you the taser would come in handy.” You scoffed and shook your head while she laughed and went to catch up with the others. She was your little knight in shining armor. :)

IM TRYING MY BESTTT TO CATCH UP ON REQUESTS IM SORRY EVERYONEE </3