#but no that was asking way too much apparently

[forzarma]

Between the lines

Lando Norris x Law student!reader

A/N: ok amma just act like i didn’t ghost this app for months and came out if nowhere but here we are ig. Also the Brazilian gp??? What the heck like wild race istg😭

It all started one night in Monaco, on a break from law school. You were on vacation with a friend, celebrating the rare freedom that came with a brief pause in your intense study schedule. A night at the casino was not usually your scene, but your friend had insisted.

After about an hour, she’d struck up a flirtatious conversation with some guy who’d been lingering by the bar. You waved her off, telling her you’d be fine, and took a seat on your own near a roulette table.

That’s when he walked up. Unassuming at first, with that messy hair and a slightly cocky smile that had “trouble” written all over it.

“Mind if I join you?” he asked, a hint of an accent in his voice.

You shrugged, amused. “Go for it. But I’m not particularly good at this.”

He chuckled. “Neither am I.”

You exchanged a few more jokes, but it didn’t take long for him to introduce himself, giving you his number in a smooth, unhurried way.

“Lando,” he said, his eyes glinting with mischief.

You stashed the number away without much thought. It was only the next day, when you mentioned the encounter to your little sister over FaceTime, that you realized who he actually was.

“Some guy named Lando gave me his number at the casino,” you’d said offhandedly. Her jaw dropped.

“Wait, Lando who??.”

You blinked, stunned, and then laughed. “I don’t know, apparently he’s famous”

“so it’s lando fucking norris what” she said wide eyed

She rolled her eyes, muttering, “Only my sister would be this oblivious to F1 drivers. I’ve been a die-hard fan since I was, like, ten, and you meet one without even knowing?”

From there, you let yourself get to know him, intrigued by how normal he seemed compared to the hype you’d suddenly realized surrounded him. When he asked you out, you thought, why not? You were used to focusing on your studies and keeping your personal life private, so it didn’t seem like much would change. But with Lando, everything was different.

-

Months later, you’d fallen into an unexpected but steady rhythm with Lando. Despite his career, he managed to keep things low-key. Neither of you posted much about each other. Hell, you barely posted anything at all. You were still a law student with a private life, and the last thing you wanted was for the whole world to know who you were dating.

One evening, you were lying on his couch, scrolling through your phone, when Lando turned to you with a sly grin.

“Babe, you know… you’re eventually gonna get caught, right? Someone’s going to snap a picture of us, and then the cat’s out of the bag,” he teased, nudging your leg with his.

You groaned, rolling your eyes. “Oh, sure, because every random person with a camera is just dying to know who you’re dating.”

He snickered, leaning in closer. “Maybe. But you know, it could be kinda nice… to go out sometimes. Like, properly. We don’t have to make a big deal of it.”

You hesitated, biting your lip. As much as you loved being with him, the idea of being recognized—or worse, photographed—made you cringe. Your accounts were private, your life simple, and you weren’t sure how you’d feel about people seeing you with him.

But, at the same time, you knew it wasn’t fair to keep him hidden away forever. So, you took a deep breath and gave him a small smile. “What if we make a deal?”

His eyebrows shot up in interest. “I’m listening.”

“You can have me at the paddock,” you said, already dreading the idea. “But my accounts stay private, no tags, no ‘girlfriend reveals’ on Instagram. I’ll show up, I’ll be there for you but I’m not trying to become some celebrity.”

He grinned, leaning in to kiss you softly. “Deal. Although I can’t promise you won’t end up in a couple of team photos. You know how they love to catch every damn moment.”

You chuckled, trying not to think too hard about what you were signing up for.

-

A couple of weeks later, you were lying in bed with Lando, scrolling mindlessly through Instagram, when you felt a pang of guilt.

“I never actually told you about my sister,” you said suddenly.

“Oh?” He looked over at you with interest.

“Yeah, she’s been obsessed with F1 since she was like, ten,” you explained, laughing softly. “She’s begged me to take her to a race for years, but I was always too busy with school. Now she’s a full-on Ferrari fan… and she’s probably never going to forgive me for dating you.”

He grinned, intrigued. “A Ferrari fan, huh? That’s rough. Maybe I can convince her to switch sides.”

You snorted. “Good luck. She’s already sworn allegiance to Sebastian Vettel. In her words, McLaren’s colors are ‘an offense to her soul.’”

Lando laughed, shaking his head. “Well, in that case, we’ll have to win her over somehow. Why don’t we bring her to a race? I’ll make sure she gets the best seats, full experience,

You raised an eyebrow, surprised. “She’d lose her mind. Seriously. Are you sure? Because I can tell you right now, she’d never root for McLaren.

“Absolutely,” he said, squeezing your hand. “If she’s as big a fan as you say, she deserves a proper race weekend. Plus, I think it’s time we officially break her ‘Ferrari-only’ heart.”

-

On race day, you and Lando arrived at the paddock, and immediately, heads turned. You’d chosen a classic, chic outfit and despite your initial nerves, you managed to keep your cool.

You spotted your sister down the row, and her jaw dropped as soon as she saw you. She approached, barely able to contain her excitement, though she shot a mock glare at Lando.

“Such a shame I don’t like McLaren,” she said, her tone dripping with sarcasm.

“Yeah, yeah,” he replied with a grin. “You just wait. One lap, and you’ll be a fan.”

She rolled her eyes, but you could tell she was thrilled, practically bouncing on her heels as she looked around at the spectacle. She turned to you, eyes wide with disbelief. “You’re really here… at a race. I don’t know whether to thank you or disown you.”

You laughed, nudging her playfully. “I’m still not a fan, if that helps.”

She huffed, pretending to be offended. “I guess I’ll forgive you. But only if you bring me every single time from now on.”

The rest of the day passed in a blur of cameras, fans, and the hum of engines. You couldn’t deny the rush of excitement that came with being part of the chaos, even if it meant being in the public eye. And when you saw your sister’s face, completely lit up as she took in every second, it felt worth it.

-

The relationship slowly became public, just as you and Lando had agreed. You kept your accounts locked down, but fans began to recognize you, and a few photos of you two at the paddock circulated on social media.

Your sister stayed true to her Ferrari fandom, texting you regularly to tease you about your “betrayal.” But every now and then, you’d catch her slipping in a comment about McLaren usually something along the lines of, “Okay, that car looks pretty badass.”

One evening, Lando turned to you with a satisfied grin. “I think we’re doing alright, don’t you think?”

You looked around the Monaco apartment you’d somehow started calling “home” without even realizing it, at the life you’d built together. You leaned over, giving him a soft kiss. “Yeah, I think so, too.”

In the end, you realized you didn’t need to post, announce, or shout your relationship from the rooftops. Being there for each other was enough, even if it meant sharing some of the spotlight.

After all, Lando may have been the one the world wanted to see, but you were his, and that was more than enough.

[arc-misadventures]

It Was That Easy?!

Jaune, and Coco:

~~~

Velvet: That was fucking it?!!

Coco: Yeah...

Velvet: You two have been dancing around each other for months! And, what finally gets you two to start dating was the fact that you two wouldn't hang out as much if you started dating other people?!

Coco: Yes...?

Velvet: We tried to set you up for months! A simple conversation got you together?!

Coco: You tried to set me up?

Velvet: We locked you in a closet!

Coco: Oh, I remember that closet... That was quite cramped...

Velvet: The time we stole all his clothes so you would walk in on him naked!

Coco: My man looks like a marble statue. Mmmh~! Those abbs~!

Velvet: The tickets you gave you guys to go to that resort in, Vaccuo! You two were all alone, and you didn't do anything?!

Coco: We defiantly had plenty of beach suit fashion shows. For the record: Speedos do not word on, Jaune. That bulge... I have various mixed feelings after seeing that...

Velvet: We spiked your food!

Coco: You spiked our food?!

Velvet: There was faunas grade aphrodisiacs in your food! And, nothing happened?!

Coco: Wait, was that in the fish dish you made us. Because we had the runs after eating that.

Velvet: All that planning, all that work, all our scheming, and none of that work?!

Coco: Sorry...?

Velvet: That's it! You're going to the closet!

Coco: What?

~~~

Velvet: Get in there!

Coco: Whoa hey, Vel, what are you...?! Ooph!

Jaune: Uhh... Hey, Coco...?

Coco: Jaune...?

Velvet: This time you better do it!

Nora: Or, I'll spike your food again!

(Slam!)

Jaune: ...?

Coco: ...?

Jaune: So... I take it, Velvet let you know about her schemes to get us together too right?

Coco: Yeah, apparently she was the reason why were locked in a closet for the first time. And, she stole all your clothes so I would walk in on you naked. Got us those tickets so we could stay at that resort. And, she spiked out food.

Jaune: Oh, it was , Velvet who did that. Nora told me a different story about what she did.

Coco: What did she do?

Jaune: That resort we were staying at actually had two beds in it, Nora some how got rid of one of them.

Coco: What? The bed was made into the wall; How did she do that?

Jaune: Best not ask. She actually go that distress call from when we got stuck in the cabin in the mountain.

Coco: She did?

Jaune: Yeah, she wanted us to... mingle to stay warm before she rescued us the next day.

Coco: Posing naked in furs was certainly a way to mingle...

Jaune: And, she spiked our food...

Coco: And, after she learned that we got together because we didn't want to stop hanging out, she shoved you in the closet as well...

Jaune: Yeah... And, while i wouldn't mind us having some fun here in the closet~!

Coco: Oh, really~?

Jaune: But, they put us in the wrong closet...

Coco: Eh?

Jaune: It's too cramped, I can't move...

Coco: Grr... come one. I can...?! Grrrr...! I'm stuck too...

Jaune: Can you reach my scroll?

Coco: Nope, my hands our stuck here feeling up your broad chest~! You?

Jaune: Maybe...? Let's see if I can... Ahh found it! Uhh... Password?

Coco: 0-2-2-4.

Jaune: Okay... Calling...? Glynda...

Coco: Good choice.

Glynda: Hello, Coco do you need something?

Coco: Hi, Triple G! Uhhh... So, Jaune, and I started dating...

Glynda: You two started dating?!

Coco: Yes... and...?!

Glynda: Fucking finally!

Coco: ...

Jaune: ...

Coco: We should have started dating months ago...

Jaune: Yeah...

[nataliasquote]

Double the trouble | Switch Up | n romanoff

Double the trouble AU

Summary: Yelena is back, the twins are older, and her scheming ways do nothing but backfire. a mother always knows…

Age: 8

Warnings: none

wc: 3.3k

note: hello! I’m back with another little oneshot for DTT. I’ve missed writing tbh and although this isn’t the best, I’m pleased to finally write. I’m sorry for keeping you waiting!

-⧗-

Leaving the twins with Yelena was either the best idea or the worst idea Natasha had ever had. But with Wanda away visiting her brother, Natasha didn’t really have much of a choice. Work didn’t allow her to take time off like this, so she turned to the next best thing.

The blonde was as grumpy as anything until she was faced with the two bundles of joy that were her nieces. She hated kids, but Isla and Y/n were an exception. She opened the door with a huge grin as the twins came barreling towards her, crouching barely over the threshold to collect them in a hug.

Natasha hovered back by the stairs with a soft smile tugging at her lips. Despite having a rocky patch, she truly loved Yelena with all her heart. And seeing her girls happy was all that mattered. She wished she could stay, but with new development plans happening at the studio, she had to oversee the final meeting.

“Are you staying all day?” Isla asked, peering round to look at Yelena’s truck parked in the driveway. “Where’s Fanny?”

“I’ll get her out in a minute, and yes I am, lucky duck.” The twins cheered at her response, their chatter tumbling over the top of each other as they bombarded their aunt with questions. Natasha quickly stepped in, taking them by the hand so Yelena could finally enter the house. After sending her girls over to the couch, Natasha pulled Yelena to one side, whispering in hushed voices.

“It shouldn’t take long, but in case I’m held back, there’s boxed mac and cheese in the cupboard and the girls made cookies last night so they’re in the green jar.”

“Mac and cheese, green jar, got it.”

“Please don’t give them too much sugar,” Natasha warned, knowing her sister’s tendencies, “and they have been arguing a lot, so good luck.” She didn’t really need to tell Yelena what to do, she’d babysat since they were really little, but it gave Natasha a piece of mind to know they were well looked after.

“Natasha, they’ll be fine. Don’t you trust me? Yelena asked with a grin.

“Absolutely not.”

Yelena rolled her eyes, stuffing her hands into her pockets. “So who’s the troublemaker this time?”

“Y/n has been in a mood for the past few days, so it’s currently her. Apparently Isla's existence annoys her.” As if on cue, a yell sounded from the living room and Natasha inwardly groaned. A moment of peace was never on the cards.

As she went to sort out whatever argument was occurring with her eight year olds, Yelena let Fanny out of the car and watched the Akita bound up the front steps, her tail wagging frantically. Any normal person would feel bad about the amount of hair she shed, but it only made Yelena laugh. She truly made every place her home.

The scene in the living room was absurd even for Yelena. Natasha was scolding a pouting Y/n whilst Isla cried in her arms, clutching something hidden behind her hair. Yelena hovered awkwardly, unsure how to approach, and Fanny did the same. It was almost like she could read the room.

Natasha, breathing a sigh of relief, gestured for Yelena to approach, to which she did. A sniffly Isla was pushed in her direction and the young girl lunged at her aunt, clinging to her waist with a sob.

“What happened?” Yelena mouthed, her eyebrows shooting up as Natasha held up what looked like a barbie doll. “Where’s the hair?”

“This one got scissor happy,” Natasha said exasperatedly, jabbing her thumb in Y/n’s direction.

“She stole my barbie!” Y/n protested, folding her arms across her chest in a huff.

“No!” Isla burst out,” that’s mine!”

“Well I don’t care, I was playing with it!”

“Get your own!”

Above their heads, Natasha gave Yelena a look. This is what she had been dealing with since Wanda left and although she hated leaving her kids, the bickering was starting to wear her down. It was Yelena’s turn to handle it for once. She just hoped the house would still be standing when she got back.

“Girls, please,” Natasha sighed, standing up with the barbie in her hand. “Mama has to go in a minute, and I’m not having you acting up for Yelena.” She used her stern mom voice and Y/n paled, hating being told off. “Y/n, can you apologise to Isla please.”

“No.”

Natasha may have a soft spot for her youngest but the glare that crossed her features made the little girl’s eyes well up and she hung her head in shame. “Y/n…” Natasha warned, knowing what came next if she didn’t start behaving.

“Sorry,” Y/n mumbled, suddenly very interested in the sleeve of her pink sweater.

“Good,” Natasha stated, brushing off the dog hair from her sleek black suit trousers. “I want you two on your best behaviour, and Yelena will tell me everything that happens. If I find out that you’ve been disrespectful and naughty, I will tell Mama. Okay?”

The girls mumbled in chorus, with Isla still clinging on to Yelena and Y/n standing by herself. It was just a phase, Natasha had to keep reminding herself that, but it certainly felt as though it was going to last forever. She wasn’t the bad mom, but Y/n’s behaviour had been so bad lately that not a day went by where she wasn’t being told off. It hurt her to see her daughter so upset, but Natasha stood strong. It was her own kindred spirit that she saw in Y/n, and now she understood why she was such a difficult child sometimes.

“We’re going to have fun, right guys?” Yelena asked with extravagant enthusiasm, although the responses she got were far from it. “You can go and do your boring adult stuff whilst the cool kids do… cool kid stuff.”

Natasha anxiously glanced at her kids, a wave of doubt washing over her. “Are you sure you’ll be okay? I can cancel-”

“Natasha, go, I’ll be fine. They’re angels with me and I’ve got Fanny with me if it all goes wrong.”

The dog in question gave a small woof and Natasha eyed her warily, far more a cat person than a dog person. She wasn’t totally convinced, but motherhood had made her anxious so she straightened out her jacket and nodded, psyching herself up.

“I’ll be back by 5, 6 at the latest.”

“Have a good day Mama,” Y/n said quietly, trying desperately to get back on her good side. Having Wanda mad at her was bad enough, but having Natasha was the worst thing she could think of. And when her Mama crouched down and opened her arms, Y/n took her chance to get to the hug first, muttering another ‘sorry’ to try and make amends.

“Be good, girls. I’ll be home soon.”

‘Aunty Lena, does Mama hate me?” Y/n asked as the door closed. The blonde frowned and turned to her niece, her large green eyes piercing into the Russian’s soul.

“Of course not, little bug. But you have to start being nice to Isla, okay?”

“I know,” Y/n replied. “She just really makes me mad.”

“That’s what sisters do. Your mama and I used to fight all the time.”

Y/n’s eyes lit up. “You did?”

“It’s totally normal, little bug. When your mama had blue hair, I used to tease her about it all the time.”

Isla’s head perked up at that. “Mama had blue hair?”

“Has she never shown you pictures?” Yelena asked in disbelief. Both girls shook their heads and Yelena grinned. “I’ll make some hot chocolate and I can show you. Your grandma put all our photos as kids in an album.”

The twins cheered loudly and ran to the kitchen, laughing with each other. It was such a stark contrast to earlier that Yelena had to do a double take at what she was witnessing.

“I’m glad you’re not this much work,” she muttered to Fanny, who barked happily at the noise. Kids really were hard work.

~~~

“Lena, kick it!” Isla yelled across the garden, dancing around the goal whilst her aunt really took her time. She was doing it purely to mess with her niece, and it was working perfectly. With another yell, Isla sprinted out of the goal in an attempt to tackle, but Yelena took her chance and sent the ball flying into the goal with a thud.

“That’s not fair!” She cried, running over to retrieve it.

“Another point to Aunt Lena!” Y/n announced from her place at the side before launching into another back walkover. She’d only recently learned the skill at dance and was more than happy to do acro tricks whilst they played. As long as she kept score as promised.

“No! That doesn’t count,” Isla protested, one foot propped up on the ball. “She cheated.”

“I didn’t cheat, you just have no patience,” Yelena said sassily, propping a hand up on her hip. “You’re not going to make a very good goal keeper.”

“I hate soccer anyway,” Isla grumbled, kicking the ball as hard as she could in Yelena’s direction. “It sucks.”

“It’s only because you’re bad at it,” Y/n piped up, now sitting on the porch steps after exhausting herself from cartwheels.

“You’re worse!” Typical comeback but Yelena had had enough. With a roll of her eyes, she marched towards the goal, giving Isla a bump with her elbow as she walked past.

“New game, I’ll be in goal and you have to work together to score. Deal?”

Isla shook her head. “I’m not playing with her, she can’t even kick a ball!”

“I can too!” Y/n protested, sprinting up to her sister. “I’m better than you and I don’t even have lessons.”

“That’s so not true. You-”

“Guys!” Yelena shouted, her Russian accent thickly coating her words. “Do you ever stop this fighting? It’s so annoying!”

The twins went silent, an uncommon phenomenon. Y/n muttered something under her breath but Yelena didn’t have it in her to care anymore. Every time she babysat it made her more and more impressed at how Natasha did it. A true saint.

“New rules. You have to pass it to each other before trying to score. If you don’t, the point goes to me. Okay?”

“Fine!”

Surprisingly, very few fights broke out over the course of the game. Isla did most of the scoring after Y/n well and truly botched her tries. But in her defence, her legs weren’t made for kicking the shit out of a soccer ball.They were made for cartwheels, which Isla soon got fed up with.

After far too long outside, Yelena rounded them up and herded them back inside after teeth started chattering and Y/n’s soaked trouser legs from falling over were turning her lips slightly blue.

After a quick bath she sat them both on Isla’s bed and dug through her closet for some comfier clothes. After a few minutes she sat back on her knees, her mind racing.

“Do you guys match anymore?”

“Ew,” Isla said, her nose scrunching. “Never. All Y/n wears is pink, and I hate pink.”

“You also hate dresses too.”

Yelena was quiet for a moment, the cogs in her head turning. She turned around with a sheepish smile, almost shaking with excitement.

“I have an idea, but you need to cooperate… okay?”

~~~

Natasha sighed as she stepped out of her car, her breath forming a small cloud in front of her. It was far too cold for October and she rushed up the front steps to get inside. The building work was looking amazing and she knew Y/n was itching to get back to the studio just as much as she was (there was only so much kitchen ballet they could do).

It was eerily quiet as the front door opened, only her heels sounding on the wooden floor as she approached the kitchen. She wasn’t met with a pile of bodies throwing themselves at her, which was probably more strange than the silence. Had she trusted Yelena too much and her sister had kidnapped her children and ran off to Russia? Honestly it wasn’t such a surprising theory.

Empty kitchen… empty living room… this was weird. But the sound of giggles couldn’t be hidden and Natasha kicked off her heels at the bottom of the stairs and took the stairs two at a time, her trousers straining around her thigh muscles. Isla’s laugh was the most distinguishable and she pushed the door open slowly, trying not to startle anyone.

The wholesome sight of the three of them sitting on the floor surrounded by stuffed animals was enough to melt Natasha’s heart and she smiled softly, leaning on the doorframe waiting for someone to notice her. And strangely it wasn’t Y/n but Isla who jumped up first, almost stumbling over Fanny to get to her Mama with a shriek.

Natasha caught her daughter in her arms and pressed kisses all over her face, warmth flooding her body. She would never feel complete when she was away from her girls.

Y/n quickly joined in, wanting the same cuddles. Natasha crouched down and stroked their cheeks before pausing slightly, squinting. Something wasn’t right and Yelena’s overly wide grin didn’t help her suspicions either. She stroked Isla’s hair with a chuckle and straightened up, her back aching from bending down so much.

“Did you girls have a good day?” She asked, watching as Y/n settled back on the floor beside Fanny. “You both look happier than when I left.”

“We played soccer and beat Aunt Lena!” Y/n piped up. “I scored all the goals.”

“No, I helped too!”

Natasha didn’t miss the way Yelena nudged her nieces or how their eyes went as wide as saucers. But the redhead just chuckled and took a seat on Isla’s bed, her legs slightly aching from standing all day.

Isla stood in front of her, clearly torn with where to go. Natasha knew she wanted to sit on her knee but watched as she settled beside Yelena again. It was impressive, Natasha gave her that much. Very dedicated to the cause.

“You did? Well done baby. Have you behaved today?”

“They’ve been angels, sestra, as usual. It’s only you they are bad for.” Yelena had a shit eating grin and it took everything in Natasha not to launch a pillow at her head. But she could not condone aggression around her violent children anyway before Y/n got any more ideas.

“Is that right?”

“Mama you had blue hair!”

If looks could kill, Yelena would be well and truly dead. If there was one thing Natasha hated, it was pictures of her younger self. She made far too many questionable decisions and went through one too many boxes of hair dye, so seeing pictures was a no no. Not even Wanda had seen many. And now her daughters had seen the worst ones which she was never going to live down.

“Yelena Belova… what did you do.”

The blonde just shrugged and jumped up, causing Fanny to do the same. The queen of avoiding things. “Who wants Aunt Yelena’s special mac and cheese?”

The twins both cheered and raced out of the room after their aunt, leaving Natasha slightly bewildered in the blue and white room. There were times where Natasha convinced herself that Yelena wasn’t all that bad, and then she pulled stunts like this and put herself back on top of Natasha’s hit list. But that was never going to change.

“What else did you show my kids, Yelena?”

No reply. Typical.

Natasha truly was outnumbered when her sister was around. But then she remembered what was really going on and a small laugh escaped Natasha’s mouth. Adorable, really.

Y/n and Isla helped as much as they could to make dinner, including standing on a chair to stir the boiling noodles and dumping the cheese packets in when instructed. Natasha was banished to setting the table after Isla gave her a lecture about her inability to cook, clearly something else she’d picked up from Yelena. But Natasha yielded, setting the cutlery down with a shake of her head. The longer it went on for, the more she tried not to laugh. And the more slip ups she noticed.

Like how Isla wouldn’t stand on the chair because she was scared of heights, even though yesterday she climbed the largest tree in the backyard. And how Y/n stood still when waiting for her turn, when she’d usually be twirling around with her apron. Natasha could only watch as Yelena heavily emphasised their names and the twins burst into giggles whenever they answered her. It was adorable to see and she couldn’t wait to tell Wanda.

They ate in silence, which was usually the case when mac and cheese was involved. And the girls did very well, Natasha gave them that, until she pulled an admittedly evil move.

“How about cookies?” Yelena asked once plates were cleared and the table was wiped down.

“It sounds good to me,” Natasha agreed, grabbing the tin and sitting back at the table. “One each, you too Yelena. And Y/n, you know the rules. You got in trouble today so you don’t get a cookie.”

She slid the tin to Isla who happily reached in until a protest sounded from the girl next to her.

“That’s not fair! That’s my cookie!”

Isla had already shoved her cookie in her mouth at this point, the crumbs sticking to her cheeks and the front of her shirt. She grinned happily, thankful she agreed to Yelena’s scheming plot.

“Mama! That’s mine!”

Natasha shook her head. “No Y/n, those aren’t the rules, you know that.”

Isla smacked her palm against the tabletop. “I’m not Y/n! She is!” She pointed at her sister harshly, who was licking the crumbs from her fingertips. “We switched!”

“Isla!” Y/n whined, “You weren’t supposed to spoil it!”

“I’m not losing my cookie, give it to me!”

“No,” Y/n said with a grin. “Mama said you can’t have one, so you can’t.”

“I hate you!”

Natasha watched the scene unfold, with Yelena looking more and more concerned. The blonde turned to her sister for help, but was met with only a smirk and a raised eyebrow.

“Do something!” Yelena hissed, but Natasha shook her head.

“Absolutely not,” Natasha said, leaning back in her chair. “It’s your mess, you fix it.”

“Tell her Aunt Lena!” Isla cried, tears threatening to spill. “Tell her I’m Isla! I’m not Y/n.”

Whilst Isla was nearing a breakdown, Y/n’s mean streak thickened. “These cookies really are good.”

“Mama please!”

Natasha rounded the table and placed a kiss on Isla’s forehead before passing her the biggest cookie from the tin. “Here baby, you’re okay,” she soothed, gently wiping her tears. “But your Aunt is an idiot. I did know it was you all along Isl’s, I’m sorry baby.” She picked her daughter up and set her on her lap, holding her close as she ate her cookie.

Yelena’s mouth fell open. “You knew?”

“From the moment ‘Isla’ ran to me first.” Yelena hit the table, muttering ‘dammit’ under her breath. “A mother always know, Yel. Always.”

[mrs-kodzuken]

empty promise ⟢ kenma k.

synopsis: you notice that your boyfriend, kuroo, of almost three years has been acting strange lately. you confront him on it and then suddenly you’ve made the decision to leave him. luckily, your best friend is always there for you.

other: cheater!kuroo x fem!reader, best friend!kenma x fem!reader, angst, break up, little mention of ED, comfort, manipulation, gas-lighting, asshole!kuroo, best friend!kenma helping rebuild reader, therapy, best friend!kenma has loved reader since 4eva eventual fluff

"Kuroo, I know it’s happening again.” You sighed, knowing this wouldn't end well, just like last time didn't end well per say either. You stared at the man across from you in the kitchen decorated with picture frames of the both of you as he hovered in front of the fridge, probably wondering why you didn't cook tonight.

“What are you talking about?” He sounded snippy; his demeanor changed as he peered his sharp gaze back at you, immediately becoming defensive. His slick, black suit that he wore leaving for work this morning was hardly as neat as it was, adding on to your suspicion. 

“You’re hiding something from me, I know it.” You finally got out, your heartbeat quickening as it usually did when you would have to confront your boyfriend of three years. It was upsetting that you would have this anxious-riddening feeling that made you sick everytime you defied him. 

“Seriously? This again? You’re fucking kidding me,” He snapped, slamming the refrigerator door shut, into which you jumped at the loud, sudden noise—eyes widening. 

“Yes, Kuroo, this again. I can't set it aside any longer; the feelings are tearing me apart.” You attempted to say, “I just want trust, and—and I feel like I’m not getting it from you,” You stammered, trying to reason with the man; his expression held anger as if he couldn't believe you felt this way, especially about him.

“There you go with your crazy talk; are you sure you’ve been talking with the therapist Y/n?” He accused you, the scoff apparent in his voice as he rolled his eyes. 

Furrowing your brows, you couldn’t believe that he would ask something like that. “Yes, at every appointment, and sometimes I text—“ You were abruptly cut off, the anxiety ate away at you, making you chip your nail polish. 

"I just think you’re being dramatic. Honestly, I think you’re the one who's making this relationship go without trust,” He hammered in on his accusations. The kitchen light flickered as a few beats of silence passed between you two. 

The absolute quietude in the house was almost deafening. The living room TV wasn't on; no soft music, nothing. No noise except the small buzzing from the refrigerator that you have always, always hated.

You took a deep breath and tried to collect your thoughts, you followed the steps your therapist gave you for moments like this. 

“Kuroo, where were you tonight? You’re home extremely later than you said.” You purse your lips, wanting to know, but the ache in your stomach was becoming too much. At this point, it hurt to love him, to question him. You knew what he would say, you could probably even guess the exact words that would come out of his mouth.

His taller frame stood across the kitchen; the usual loving eyes now turned cold and hard and it was all directed at you.

“At the office, I was working.” He snarled, “Oh, you think I’m fucking someone at my job now, huh?” He raised his voice, your eyes widening at the thoughts your mind crept to, but you wanted to discuss it first. Wanted to calmly talk about it, this is what your therapist told you to do. 

“No, Kuroo, I don’t think anything; I didn’t say anything like that. "All I said was that I had a feeling and I wanted to talk with you about it.” This is what your therapist had specifically told you to do; you could feel the crease between your eyebrows becoming more apparent with every sharp word Kuroo said. 

“Oh yeah, because I’m totally cheating on you. I told you that last time would never happen again; why are you having these ‘feelings’?” He rudely said, as if you didn't notice the signs.

The late nights, the alcohol on his breath, the lack of physical intimacy with you, the ruffled, messy state of his clothes and hair. It was painfully obvious at this point. You felt ashamed for not saying something sooner. 

“..There was just one night where you came home smelling like another woman and I—I just don’t know Kuroo. I wanted to make sure that last time wasn’t happening again.” You averted your gaze, not being able to stand the hatred in your boyfriend's eyes. You felt small against his larger frame and even larger, hurtful words. 

“Ha! Isn’t that something? You’re probably cheating on me with how much you work from home.” He dryly chuckled, throwing accusations as if they were sharpened knives now. 

“Kuroo, why aren’t you listening? You saying things like that hurt me, you know? I've been faithful since we agreed to be in this relationship. I'm just worried that history is repeating itself.” You try to get his attention back on the topic; he just wasn't listening to you.

You could feel your eyes starting to water, the buildup of arguing, the ache in your stomach, and the painful incriminations he was throwing. It was beyond hurtful, it ached.

“You’re delusional if you think you smelled another woman on me. There was no one at the office; nothing has happened since last April; nothing.” The bellowing of his voice was meant to try and beckon you to listen to him. And you were finally silent; you knew your pathetic voice would waver if you said something, anything right now. 

You watched Tetsuro open a bottle of alcohol, not caring that he just openly hurt your feelings without any regard to how you might actually feel and didn’t try to console you either. 

Opening your mouth to try and say something to reason with him, you couldn’t even say a singular syllable. 

“Just fucking drop it,” He muttered before trying to slide past you into the cupboard to find something to eat. 

"I’m leaving you.” Your voice harrowingly got out, and you glared at the floor, hating that you got dealt these shitty cards. You carefully took off the promise ring that you now realize was nothing more than just an empty promise and set it on the cold counter. 

"Fine, you'll realize that you're the problem. The toxic, insecure, crazy one and then come crawling back to me,” He said without a hint of remorse; you knew though. You knew that he wasn't your caring, sweet, helpful boyfriend anymore; he was someone's. And you damn sure were not going to fight for him. 

You watched as he left the house through the back door; you didn’t bother to check Life360 as you probably knew where he was going. You were right, unfortunately yet again. 

Not being able to take the heartbreak, you decided to pack. You wanted to leave this home; you wished Kuroo made you happy like he did in the beginning of the relationship, but instead all he does is make you stressed and upset. 

You gather your at-home work supplies, main toiletries, important documents, sentimentals, and clothes to last you three whole weeks. You could replace everything else; hell, you were a working woman, not some rando he could kick to the street to make you fend for yourself.

You figured he’d clear out the rest of your things before he invited his new girl here. 

You carefully put your personal belongings in your car before leaving the key to the house under the front door mat. You decided to take a few minutes to give yourself a cry; you needed it. Your entire life of what you thought you knew was completely destroyed within thirty minutes; you had to cry or else you wouldn't be okay. 

When you pulled out of the driveway, you called Kenma from your car. Kenma has been your best friend since college; he actually introduced you and Kuroo to each other.

And look how that turned out. Although, you had hardly spoken to him in a few because Kuroo cut off your contact with anyone that wasn’t him—mostly any male. 

Once the dialing ended, Kenma picked up. You tried to gather what to say in a few short moments, watching the streetlamps pass you by as you drove.

“Can I stay at your place for a few days?” You asked before he could ever say 'hello'. You cringed at your voice, which was raspy from the argument and the tears you shed. 

“Oh, yeah, sure. What happened?" Concern laced Kenma's voice for you; he was always so observant of your emotional state. But then again, you did sound horrible right now. 

“Kuroo cheated on me again; I left him this time; I should've—I just should’ve left the first instead.” You tried to keep it together and not have to pull over and cry about the situation. 

There was silence over the phone for a few minutes except the small sniffles and clearing of your throat. "I’m sorry, Y/n. You deserve better than someone who easily breaks your heart like this.” You could tell that Kenma felt guilty because he was the one who set the both of you up on a date.

"I’m sorry that I’m going to crash at your place to get my life together; I know I’m a lot.” You sighed, parking in his driveway. His house was as huge as ever; living the rich life did suit him though. 

“No, you’re not a lot. Things happen, and I’m glad I’m someone you can lean on.” He genuinely reassured you, peeking out of the living room curtains and seeing your headlights, then ending the phone call.

You gathered your things and headed inside to Kenma's house, not having been here in a couple. It was just as admirable as the first time you were here.

“Were you just streaming right now?" You called in the house curiously; you could hear gaming sounds in the background of the phone call, they were much too familiar to listen to. 

Kenma came from around the corner of the kitchen; he was in his typical comfortable merch that he made. His hair was pulled back, and he had a bowl of curry in his hand. 

He paused, taking your form just like you did to him, except he was wary of your blotchy face and red eyes. 

"..Yeah—yeah, I was. But don’t feel bad; I was supposed to get something to eat anyway.” He half smiled at you, a small crinkle in his eyes. 

“You can make yourself comfortable in any room in the house; I'm going to finish my stream. If you need me, you know where to find me.” He turned away from you with a glance that you didn't see as you got familiar with his home again. 

“Thanks, Ken,” You mumbled as he was already gone. You were going straight for the room that has always brought you comfort—Kenma's bedroom.

Collapsing on his fluffy bed was the highlight of your night, letting the feelings of the breakup wash over you. You knew that it would be something you'd bring up with your therapist this week; she would help you and talk you through your mind process like she always did. 

Your eyes wandered as you controlled your breathing, grounding yourself with the distant memory that you last had about Kenma's room. It was always your safe space back then. You sighed and rolled over onto your back.

After lounging around and letting your emotions process thoroughly, you finally got up, the heartache from the past few hours still fresh. 

"I didn’t expect you would pick my room, but that’s okay. It brings back memories of our sleepovers.” Kenma's voice rang out, opening his black-painted bedroom door, effectively startling you, which made you jump. 

You regained your posture and gave a small, worried smile. “Are you sure? I can leave. Sorry, this just, just brings me comfort, you know?” You softly smiled, gazing around the room that you both would always share. 

Back then, if Kenma hadn't introduced you to Kuroo, you would have probably confessed to him. The thought made your eyes widen a bit, and you blinked it to the back of your mind because anything else could come of it. 

He leaned on the door frame and said, "No, it’s okay for you to stay. Were you about to sleep or something?” He raised a brow, not knowing that you planned to sleep with him. Nevertheless, he didn't care because, after all, he's missed you. 

You winced, not fond of the idea of sleep right now. “Not really. I know I shouldn’t mess up my sleep schedule like this, but life kind of got in the way." You dryly chuckled, gathering your comfortable clothes that you would usually sleep in at your now-old home. 

You sighed with despair, not being able to keep it in. The silence only egged you on as Kenma waited, his gaze only on you.

"I just keep feeling sorry for myself. How I should’ve been stronger to leave instead of being so lenient with him cheating on me so easily.” You were getting teary-eyed again, hating the situation you could've left from but didn't.

A soothing voice and an even more soothing hand surrounded your senses, trying to calm you. “That's normal. You thought you could trust again, so you tried it, and he proved you wrong. It just shows that you both weren’t compatible, a shitty thing for me to say, but I’m not going to sugarcoat it for you; you know me.” You could even hear the smile in his voice at that last part.

However, you were oblivious to the painstakingly ache in his posture due to the guilt of him putting you through that. 

“Yeah, I do. Thank you for always being honest with me. I really appreciate it, Kenma. It means a lot. You’re practically the only person I trust—to always give me the truth.” You paused at that bit, realizing how awfully true it was. 

“Always. I don't think I’d lie about anything; I don’t really see a point in it.” Kenma pondered out loud before going to light a few candles and turn on a warm-colored lamp for you since you’d be in here.

“Don’t worry about finding someplace to go yet. It’s okay for you to recuperate from life for a few days first.” He finished, his kindness for you glaringly obvious, but that's all you took it for, was kindness. You nodded, physically there but mentally not. 

“What are you doing?” Broke you out of your trance-like state; staring at a computer screen for hours on end didn't do your eyesight any good.

“Working..” You mumbled out, knowing he was able to scold you about this. You never stayed up late to do work, to party, to drink, anything. You felt like you were boring and this was a way to combat it, especially with you feeling guilty for yourself.

“Why? You’ve had like three hours of sleep; I thought you were going to recuperate from life.” Kenma asked, he had noticed that you were knocked out earlier. He came into his room to check up on you, but you were sound asleep, peacefully. Knowing you were finally safe from harm in any way made him feel good inside. 

"I tried; it didn’t work.” You turned back to your screen, wheeling around in Kenma’s office chair. You didn’t bother pretending like you didn’t know what you could and could not touch or act new with him. 

“Have you thought about trying harder?” He snorted, but he genuinely cared about your wellbeing right now. He flicked on the above light, it was better than nothing right now, he also cared about your eyes. 

"I’m only joking Y/n. want me to stay here with you or at least bring you something?” You saw his reflection on the screen, being able to notice his change of clothes now that you were sitting in complete darkness with the only light from your computer shining. 

“No, I’m fine.” You said, earning yourself a squint from Kenma, not that you could see it as you were still typing away.

“You’ve been here at my house for almost eight hours and have yet to eat or drink something. Restricting your body from things like that as a poor coping mechanism isn’t healthy.” He scolded, being actually serious. Ironic how he learned that from his best friend in high school, however, Kenma wasn’t even sure he wanted to call Kuroo his best friend after what happened tonight.

"I—I know that, I wasn’t going to.” You stammered, trying to think of an excuse with him standing right there, taking a few small steps to further his point. “Okay, maybe I was going to, but now I obviously won’t.” You rolled your eyes, not bothering to lie to him. 

"I’ll bring you something, and then we’ll see if you change your mind about working.” He patted your head like he used to, it brought you back to an easier life, a simpler life where you were actually happy and didn’t live your life anxiously. 

Being with Kenma was like breathing, it was simple. 

You didn’t feel insecure because you didn’t have make up on, or that you cried, or probably didn't look the best right now. Kenma wasn’t Kuroo, Kenma cared. 

You knew he always had and probably always would. It was beyond palliating to know that Kenma cared about the important things like whether you were okay, if you had eaten or drank anything, if you needed someone to support you emotionally or help you vent.

He didn’t care about the other things like pressuring you to always look perfect or to stray out of your comfort zone for business parties with people who made you uncomfortable. 

That brought you back to the present. “This, my god, this is so good Kenma. I'm stuffed.” You groaned at the last bite of the delicious meal Kenma made you. The pristine glass plates that Kenma knew you loved, he plated your food on that like he always used to do when you stayed over.

"I’m glad you like it. You can have the recipe if you want it.” He offered, sitting comfortably on the extra chair he pulled up so he could make sure you ate and finished the meal. 

“That’d be perfect, thank you.” You smiled an actual happy smile, you loved when Kenma did things for you without you having to ask. 

“How do you feel now?” He took your plate in his hands, standing up and wiping off the desk with your unused napkin. You watched him and yawned before responding. 

“Kind of sleepy; I just want to lay down or something.” You mumbled, rubbing your sleepy eyes, your body finally going into relaxation after he had pulled you out of the state you were in. 

“Told you.” Kenma pointedly said, “Go on, I’ll shut this stuff down for you.” He resisted the urge to kiss on your temple, watching your figure sleepy shuffle into the hallway. 

“Thank you, Kennie.” You sleepily said before leaving, hoping he would come sleep with you too, you missed those nights. The gloamings you spent with him was comforting, you wished you didn’t trade that up for someone like Kuroo who hardly ever wanted to be away from work for you. 

That night, you went to bed sound asleep. Unfortunately, Kenma couldn’t bring himself to 

“You make me feel like my breakup wasn’t the end of the world.”

“That’s because it wasn’t the end of the world. How long have you gone without basic human decency?” Kenma asked you, already knowing the answer to that.

Between the last few days, Kenma’s been your listener, besides your therapist, to help you overcome your breakup. The way he has cared for you without expecting anything else in return was endearing, almost too endearing that it hurt your heart.

You knew your feelings by the end of the few days of staying at Kenma’s, the feelings that came back from when you both used to be close. However, even if he was ready for you, you weren’t for him. You had to go. 

Moving the conversation along away from the awkwardness that surrounded you both, "I’m glad I got a therapist a while back because between you and her, I think I’ve helped myself a good amount from the breakup, and it’s only been almost two weeks.” You surprisingly said, grateful for the fact that you mentally checked out of the relationship a while ago but still needed to process it. 

You continued, not watching Kenma but your phone to show him. “That reminds me; I’m going to start looking for apartments so I can be out of your hair soon. You’re amazing for letting me stay so long, Ken.” Smiling, you pushed the lit up screen towards his view, showing the apartments that were way nicer than you expected. It even had an elevator! You were fondly surprised at that. 

As you kept raving about all these fancy apartments you found, occasionally scrolling through the apartment list to remember the details, you were interrupted abruptly by Kenma. 

"You can stay." Was all he said, that’s when you finally looked at him. The room seemed to still as you met eye contact with him too, in his eyes…you could tell he didn’t want you to go.

He wasn’t ready for you to leave after he finally just got you back. Unable to eventually stop you from going, he had to tell you how he felt about you leaving. 

You were speechless when it came to responding to him. Of course, you wanted to stay but it would go against what you planned, however you knew what you would say. Besides, you haven’t even put a payment in for the apartment number yet. 

Kenma scratched the back of his neck, a random habit he never got rid of when you were around. "If you'd like, it's nice to have you around more often." The tenderness in his eyes was just so familiar now to you that you just had to accept his offer.

Living with your best friend who you may have a slight simmering crush for, knowing that it was requited too wasn’t the worst idea. Quite frankly, it seemed like one of the better options at this point. 

And so, you happily agreed, you finally got the taste of comfort again and you desperately wanted to keep it. Your mind felt at peace, not racing with horrid thoughts all the time about whether or not Kenma had ill will towards you. You loved, and needed, your best friend because the nights he brought you were everything you lacked without him. 

The warmth from the lamps that he turned on every evening as soon as the sun went down because he knew you loved them. Kenma would always light a small candle or two before you both got comfortable on the bed that you now sleep in with him. He even kept your Nintendo switch that he bought for you because you expressed interest in it once.

You always wondered where it went too, however, nights with Kenma dwelled on animal crossing and your favorite sweet treat. You didn’t have to worry about restricting yourself to no end because you were told to keep your shape up.

Looking up from your switch, you watched Kenma’s concentrated face, loving the little details you could see up close, especially his blue light glasses. You also adored how he kept his hair long, sporadically putting it in a pony.

The face framing pieces of hair, that you now play with every so often, were your favorite.

“Ken…thank you, for letting me come back into your life. I wish I never left.” You paused, letting him hold eye contact with you.

“It was worth it though, because now I know.” You hinted, but didn’t say anything else. Relishing in the fact that Kenma’s response was purely just to pull you closer to him. 

a/n: requests are open! hope you like & this is all my work <3

[sunnie-angel]

A Fever You Can’t Sweat Out

Part 1: Unexpected Faces in Familiar Places

fem!jason todd x fem!reader summary: jay makes a new friend, now if only she could be something more... tags: sexual harrassment, threats of violence, idiots in love, flirting, swearing, sexual tension, semi-public sex, cunnilingus, fingering rated explicit (mdni) | wc: 4.7k a/n: enjoy! i've been having a really shitty week (even before the election) so i scrapped my original intention to only post once it was fully written and decided to just share this with you all

Jay Todd has the shittiest day to cap off the shittiest week in what feels like forever. Her ribs ache from a hit on Monday that’s still not fully right and she spent most of the day chasing down one of her accountants that had the sheer fucking nerve to try and steal from under her nose. Her knuckles are bloody, she’s on the verge of a stress headache, and all she wants is to drink her goddamn drink in peace. Apparently that’s too much to ask for because she gets a call from Cala down at one of her bars about out of towners harassing the guests and now that just won’t do at all.

Jay bursts into the bar, door hitting the wall with a crash, and oh fuck she forgot her helmet at home so she’s gonna have to do this as Jay, without the weight of the Hood’s legend behind her. Taking a deep breath she squares her shoulders and swaggers in. Zeroes in on the two chucklefucks have that cornered a poor girl sitting at the bar. Notes the way she’s hunched over and pulling down the hem of her skirt to hide her skin from lecherous eyes. Cala buzzes around the scene trying to divert their attention away from poor little miss unlucky but it doesn’t work.

“–m not alone,” Jay hears you say as she strides towards the bar. “I’m waiting on a friend.” 

“That so,” the taller of the two men leer. “Well she can just join us too. Plenty of room for more.” The shorter man makes a crude gesture at his crotch and Jay sees red.

“There you are!” She calls out, shoulders past the men without even acknowledging their presence. “Sorry I’m late, traffic was a real bitch. Did you already order our drinks yet?” You look up at Jay with gratitude and something suspiciously like tears shining in your eyes. Fuck. You’re pretty.

“No I– I didn’t know if you were planning on driving so I just waited,” you play along. 

Jay goes to take the seat next to you but shoulder slams into a body. She turns and raises a single disdainful eyebrow that she knows for a fact has made grown men cower before.

“You’re in my seat,” she says, low and bored. The man’s face starts to go a horrible shade of red that clashes terribly with his hair.

“So you think you can just butt into a private conversation, bitch?” He snarls, spittle flying.

Jay very conspicuously wipes the front of her leather jacket with a bar napkin. Looks him up and down and smirks.

“I think your conversation was over 30 seconds after you opened your mouth. I bet a lot of things are over in 30 seconds with you,” she tells him coolly.

He opens his mouth to respond, vein pulsing in his forehead but the cock of a shotgun stops him. Cala, blessed Cala, had finally had the distraction she needed to grab the shot gun from under the bar and she is using it to maximum effect.

“Out!” She thunders, waving the shotgun in the men’s faces. “Out and don’t you ever come back. This is one of the Hood’s bars, we’re under her protection and there’s gonna be hell to pay for this.”

Enraged the larger one goes to yell back but the shorter one grabs at his shoulder. Whispers at him to look around at all the hostile faces, the other regulars getting to their feet and cracking their knuckles. Tails between their legs the two nuisances scamper out.

Jay nods at Cala and she calls out “Next round’s on the house!” to the cheers of the room.

Job taken care of, Jay goes to leave when a hand around her wrist, just catching her under the hem of her jacket, freezes her in place.

“Wait!” you call. She turns to look at you properly, the wobble of your lip and the shortness of your skirt from where you’re no longer tugging it down. “Please? I just– I’m worried they’ll be waiting outside for me. I was supposed to meet a date here but they bailed on me and now I have to wait for the next bus to come. Would you stay with me for a bit? Please? I’ll– I’ll buy you a drink for the inconvenience.” And well, Jay always was a sucker for a damsel in distress.

“Sure,” she says, slinging herself lazily back into the bar chair. “It’s no inconvenience but I’ll take that drink. Whoever he is, he’s gotta be mad for standing a pretty girl like you up.”

“Oh um,” you fluster at her words. “Thanks?”

Cala sets down Jay’s usual order for when she’s driving in front of her and refills your drink. Waves off your fumbling with your wallet with a “It’s on the house, chérie. Our apology for the bad night. Besides,”  she nods at Jay “the Boss Lady would not let you pay if you tried.”

You grow more flustered at that and Jay rolls her eyes at Cala’s interfering. She lays a hand on your bare forearm to get you to stop tearing the napkin in your hands to shreds.

“You’re not in any trouble honey,” she says, voice low and soothing. “Just needed a little help, that’s all. Now my name’s Jay and I own this little establishment. Why don’t you tell me a little something about yourself too?”

You stutter and start through your own self-introduction, mascara long eyelashes fluttering at all the attention. Jay’s just so goddamned tempted to press her thumb into the hollow underneath your eyes, see if that’s enough to make the gathering tears of relief spill over. Wants to see your puffy bitten lips wrapped around her fingers rather than your straw. Getting you to talk about yourself seems to work though, familiar territory slowly evening you out. You’re surprisingly witty when you’re not flustered, someone fun to have a conversation over beer with. Time just gets away from under you two, Jay too enthralled with the way your hands move as you tell a story, you too drunk under her attention to bother looking at the time.

A stray notification catches your attention, interrupts your story about how this bar wasn’t even in your bottom five. You roll your eyes at the sender name.

“Jerry,” you answer Jay’s inquisitive look. “Apologizing for standing me up, for all the good that’ll do.” With a flourish you tap at your screen, smile and say “Blocked.”

Jay can feel the corners of her eyes crinkle up in return, simple joy and approval for you cutting the trash out of your life. Not that she’s really entitled to an opinion on it. Your smile lasts a half second longer before suddenly descending into panicking, fumbling out your phone and chanting no no no under your breath.

“I missed the last bus,” you breathe out, eyes wide. Jay’s brain stutters at that, there’s no way you’ve been talking together for four hours. Cala catches her eye and jerks her head up at the big clock hanging over the bar. Fuck. It really has been four hours.

Jay knocks back the last of her beer and stands, extends a hand out to you to help you hop off the bar stool that’s just the wrong side of too tall. Even in your heels Jay’s still got quite a few inches on you.

“C’mon,” she says. “It’s my fault you were out so late, I’ll give you a ride home.”

She leads you outside to where her bike is parked, your palm still in hers.

“I don’t have an extra helmet so you just take mine okay?” She says, putting it on you.

“We’re– we’re going on that?” you squeak out, surprise rendering you docile.

“Yep,” she answers, already straddling the bike, thighs flexing. “Hop on and hold on tight.”

Jay more feels than hears your scream as she revs the engine and takes off, corners maybe just a little too fast to be anything other than showing off. Too soon she pulls up at your front door and already she mourns the feeling of your arms wrapped around her middle. She gives you a hand to help you off the bike again and nearly buckles at the brief glimpse of the black unlined lace panties she sees under your skirt as you swing your leg over the bike. The two of you stand there facing each other, moment stretching out until a car backfires a few blocks over.

“Well, I guess I should get going, “ Jay tells you reluctantly.

“I’ve got work in the morning,” you respond, still not moving. “Wait! D’you want my number or something so we can do this again? Not the first bit obviously, but maybe drinks? Maybe coffee next time?”

And Jay, Jay doesn’t really have a phone besides a collection of burners but for you she’ll keep one on her. “Could always use another friend,” she says slowly, hands her phone over to you anyway. Grinning, you see her off into the night, taillights dissolving into darkness.

Jay calls first, asks about coffee with too much casualness in her voice. Your ensuing enthusiasm sets to right the last of her worries that you’d only offered out of obligation and she sets about monopolizing as much of your free time as she can get away with. Takes you to the movies, to museums, to lunch. Lends you her sweater, her umbrella, her helmet. Actually thinks about buying a second one with how much use you’re getting out of hers. Bitches with you about assholes at work – not that she gives you the full story – and bemoaning the state of customer affairs. Makes you dinner at her apartment and makes a spot for herself on your couch. Worms her way into every corner of your life without regret because you’d tell her if her presence was unwanted. Right?

Leave it to Jay to come back from the dead and still fall in love with a straight girl. Dick teases her about how far she’s willing to bend over backwards for ‘just a friend’ and Jay has to show her teeth and snap back that at least she has some. Has to cover up for the fact that her sanity is hanging by a goddamn thread thinner than that single string that had tied the open sides of your top together that one afternoon, revealing bare skin and the hint of a breast if you leaned just right. The way she almost walked into a wall when she realized you weren’t wearing a bra the first time she came over to your place. How she’s come with the image of your tear-stained face, fingers buried in her cunt. It’s fine! Jay’s fine. Eventually she’ll learn to stop lusting over her darling best friend who looks up at Jay with such sweet trusting eyes, unaware of what an awful lecher she is.

A gala invitation has Jay wishing she could shoot lasers with her eyes and incinerate it. Her eye twitches with annoyance and you snatch it up out of her hands before she can stop you.

“Oh what’s this, a party?” you ask, hair falling down the nape of your neck in a way that has Jay itching to brush it aside and kiss your spine.

“A stupid one,” she answers, not really paying attention.

“But you’ll have to get all dressed up for it! Please, please can I come over and watch you get ready? You never get dressed up,” you pout.

Even with your whining and pouting, Jay can’t help but think she’d still have a better time at the gala with you by her side to distract her from pointed glances and whispers. She sighs. Wait.

“There’s a plus one on that invite,” she tells you nonchalantly, studying your face in her peripheral vision. “You could come if you want, get all dressed up too.”

You stiffen at the question. “You really mean it?” you whisper, hardly daring to breathe.

“Course, but only if you want to,” she offers. You squeal, clutch the envelope to your chest and tackle her.

“It’s short so I’ll probably have to rent a dress and oooh I need to think about makeup, maybe a bold lip? Oh! And I can have another excuse to wear the Jimmy Choos...” you babble in her arms.

“You hate the Jimmy Choos,” Jay reminds you. “Always complain they pinch your feet.”

“Duh,” you tell her, pushing yourself up. “But they make my legs look like sex so I’m wearing them.” Jay has to swallow a couple of times at that, lost in the last time you’d worn them out clubbing and dragged her with you. Your legs had looked like sex, miles of long yummy skin only ending at your barely there mini dress. You prance around the room pulling down dishes for dinner and Jay sighs, melts back into the couch cushions as she listens to you chatter a mile a minute about how excited you are.

Jay’s really, really regretting her impulsivity by the time the gala rolls around a few days later. In all her excitement about not going alone for once, she’d forgotten that this meant she’d be going with you. With you, all dolled up and mouth-wateringly gorgeous.

You knock at her door earlier than she’d expected from you when a fancy event is involved and has to do her very best not to drop her jaw on the floor. Gorgeous green silk pools around your breasts in a daring cowl neck, the fabric clinging to your curves, draped to exaggerate them. Skims the plush sides of your hips before falling straight to the floor, a daring slit revealing the warm bare skin of your leg ending in those heaven sent Jimmy Choos. Jay stares, knows she stares for a beat too long but there is quite literally no force on earth that could tear her away. You start to squirm under her attention, still standing half in her doorway.

“That bad, is it?” You laugh self consciously, start to cover your cleavage with your hands. “I knew it was too much.”

“No, no it’s just enough,” she rasps, standing back to let you in. You brush past her so close she can smell your perfume, can tell you’d broken out your special occasions scent in the nice glass bottle. “I just need to fix my tie and do my hair and then we can go.”

“Do you need the tie?” You hum, stepping into her space. Grabbing a hold of one of the loose ends, you tug it out from where it’s tucked under her collar and drape it over the couch. Your fingers come to her throat and slowly undo the buttons there until only a single button or two above her waistcoat remains done up. Satisfied with your work, you spread the material flat under your palms, right over the swell of Jay’s breasts. “I think you look really nice just like this,” you confess to her.

Jay can barely breathe as she says “Fuck the tie, never liked ‘em anyway.” Your slow smile is worth it.

“Can I do your hair too?” You ask shyly.

“Don’t see why not, I was just going to do a ponytail,” Jay shrugs. Delighted you push her down onto the couch and start pulling bobby pins out of your purse. “Wait did you plan this?” She asks.

“A girl should always be prepared for the best outcome,” you tell her primly as you stand behind her and finger comb her riotous hair.

Quickly you separate out a deep side part and Jay memorizes the feeling of your hands in her hair. Hands twisting and pinning, you’re done in only a few minutes, handing her the little mirror out of your clutch to admire your work. Softly Jay touches your work, the way you’ve slicked back one side of her hair and made the waving curly mess look artistic and purposeful.

“Thank you,” she says, making eye contact with you in the mirror. She means it, means it for more than just fixing her hair but for everything else you’ve done since stumbling into her bar and her life all those months ago.

“It’s nothing,” you tell her, hands suddenly occupied with the mechanism of your purse. “We should probably get going, right?”

Jay drives the two of you to the venue in a really nice car you’ve never seen before. She waves away your questions with a tight, “My dad won’t even notice it’s missing.” She parks at the end of the red carpet and the doors haven’t even opened yet but you can already see the camera lights flashing. You look at her, suddenly nervous because you’d vastly underestimated how important this event was. She turns to you and smiles, grips your hand over the car console.

“Hey,” she says, all softness. “Just stick with me and you’ll be fine. I’ll head off the vultures, you just hold onto me and enjoy the canapes, okay?”

You nod, and then suddenly she’s opening up your door, hand extended to help you out. The lights are blinding, flashing so fast the afterburn never gets any time to dissipate. Pasting on a smile you cling to Jay’s strong arm, rock solid even under all her suit layers. Paps shout and scream at you to look their way and you can barely hear them over one another.

Eventually the two of you make it through the front doors of the hotel and you gasp like you’ve been drowning. Rubbing your shoulders Jay moves to cover you, cuts off the private moment from prying eyes that seek and skitter.

“Is it always like that?” You gasp. Fighting to regain your balance.

“Unfortunately,” she says with a rueful smile. “But that’s the worst of it over, now we can really enjoy the night.” Gallantly she offers you her arm and you accept it gratefully, her elbow brushing up against the swell of your breast as you walk.

She introduces you to the night’s hosts – her family – with a whispered apology in your ear. Jay is secretly, privately glad that you don’t notice Dick’s eyes lighting up with interest in you as you come in to view. She’s very careful to stamp that light out with a scowl and pantomiming slitting his throat. He’s all charm and smiles when he’s introduced to you though Jay still stomps on his toes for good measure. She doesn’t know what possesses her to, but she wraps a proprietary arm around the small of your back as she steers you around the room. Helps you to crystal flutes of champagne that make your nose twitch at the carbonation and warns you off the most disgusting canapes.

Jay has just chased down the waiter carrying the mushroom and cheese quiche bites you’d fast declared your favourite when the two of you get roped into a very stilted conversation with some of the fat cats the Waynes are currently trying to drain dry, for charitable reasons of course. She’s tuned out the conversation while she piles all the best looking bites onto a plate for you, horrifically uninterested in whatever Mr. Harold J. Carson, esquire had to say about the Texan economy. She cottons on to something being wrong as your hands tense up around her arm and your laugh gets ever more brittle.

“That’s a very kind offer Mr. Carson–”

“Harold, please,” the great mustached walrus harumphs.

“–Mr. Carson,” you bravely soldier on. “But I’m here on a date and I hope you’re not implying that I’m the type of woman to two-time someone.”

He turns an ugly shade of puce and sputters at the implication, society matrons chuckling behind their glasses at his terrible blunder. Sensing an opportunity, Jay grabs you by the arm and starts leading you away.

“I do think our presence is needed by my family elsewhere,” she says, vowels Diamond District clipped. Her grip around your fingers is strong, tighter than it’s ever been as she leads you down a hallway and into an unused meeting room. Her breaths are coming heavy as she drops your arm like she’s been burned, deposits the plate on the empty table. Jay knows if she speaks now, her voice will shake and she will not have that. FUCK. Fuck, she was supposed to have this under control by now. She’s not your keeper, she’s not gonna stand between you and happiness but fuck it hurts to be used like a ticket into someone else’s bed.

“Jay,” you ask cautiously. “Are you okay? I really wasn’t going to take him up on his offer, I’m telling the truth, promise.”

“Why’d you come with me as a friend when you were already invited as someone’s fucking date?” Jay spits out, unable to contain her jealous anger and pacing to try and burn it off.

“But you invited me,” you answer her, voice trailing off in confusion.

“You just told Mr. Texas Oil Man that you’re here on a date,” Jay says, voice tight and frustrated at having to spell this out for you. “And we–” she gestures sharply at the two of you “–are not on a date.”

Your face falls, voice thin and hurt. “We’re not?” you ask softly.

Jay has to stop pacing because wait what.

“You– you thought this was a date,” she says slowly. “You got all dressed up and wore the heels you hate because you wanted to look good. For me.” You hug yourself tightly and nod, gaze fixed on a spot on the floor. “But you don’t even like women?” And it’s less a painful fact she knows now and more of a question. 

“We met because my date stood me up!” you exclaim.

“Yeah, Jerry,” Jay says, not sure where this is going. “Fuck that guy.”

“Gerry short for Geraldine!” you practically howl. “I’ve been practically throwing myself at you ever since, I thought you were just being nice and not saying anything to hurt my feelings,” you yell at her. “I thought– I thought you were finally giving me a chance tonight.” You pant, chest heaving as you reveal this more vulnerable truth.

“Oh,” she says stupidly, suddenly forced to re-contextualize her entire life for the past few months. You dash an angry hand at your tear eyes and turn to go.

“It was my mistake,” you tell her voice thick with emotion.

And fuck. Jay’s not about to let the best thing that ever walked into her life just walk right back out. Not without a fight. Eating up the distance with her longer legs, she reaches out and gently clasps your wrist. Turns you around and pins you the door by it, forces you to look up at her with wide teary eyes.

“Oh sweetheart,” she croons and you shudder. “Bet you’ve been feeling like I’ve been treating your real raw lately.” She cups your face in her hand, smoothes her thumb over the high plain of your cheekbone. “Why don’t you tell me what you were hopin’ for with your one big chance, tell me how tonight was supposed to go.” Jay nuzzles the side of your cheek, inhales the sweat and desperation rolling off your skin.

“We were– we were supposed to dance,” you confess, head falling back against the door. 

“We can still do that,” she says, curling her fingers into your hair and pulling. She grins at your swift inhale.

“We were gonna dance an’ then, then you were gonna take me home.” You breathe out, pupils blown wide with hunger.

“Was that it baby girl?” She asks. “Playing it a little safe for your one night fantasy, weren’t you?” Jay lets go of your wrist to rest her hand on your shoulder, large hand pressing down on your collarbone.

“Was gonna kiss you goodnight,” you whimper, shivers running across your skin. Slowly, so slowly you can make out the ticking seconds hand of the big clock on the wall, Jay leans in and carefully slots her mouth down over yours. Sucks gently on your bottom lip before releasing it with a sigh.

“Like that?” Jay asks. “You were just hoping for a sweet little kiss on the mouth?” Her own breathing is ragged.

“No–o,” you gasp. “Was hoping– was hoping you’d kiss a little lower too.”

Swiftly Jay drops to her knees, so fast she barely recognizes the pain of it. Hooks your leg over her shoulder and starts rucking up your devastating dress to expose your panties. Moaning you scrabble at the door, her hair, anything to keep you upright and balanced. 

“These,” she snarls, then licks a fat stripe across the thin fabric of your black lace panties. “I’ve been dreaming of getting my hands on them since I first saw them.” You shiver, bury your hands into her thick hair for balance.

“They’re my– my lucky date underwear,” you gasp into the air. 

“And you were hoping to get lucky tonight, weren’t you baby girl?” She coos up at you.

Biting your lip, you nod. Jay sets about tearing your underwear to pieces with her teeth. Your thighs tremble around her ears and she slams your hips back down against the door. Spreads your lips open with calloused fingers, presses a light kiss to your clit in greeting before she starts making out with your pussy. You howl and sag, trusting her to take the full weight of you as your knees turn to jelly.

Jay eats you out with enthusiasm and she eats you out with experience. Does this thing with the slick thrusting muscle of her tongue that has you gasping and begging for more. Can feel the heel of your shoe digging into her back, urging her own, begging her to fuck you harder. Spells her own name against your clit, brands her claim on you into your flesh as you wobble and whimper. Slick runs down her face as she grinds her nose into you.

Sucks your clit, hard, just a hint of teeth as she spears you open on a thick finger. Twists and curls it against your slick wet walls, lets herself affectionately get acquainted with your cunt. Scissors you open with two fingers just to watch your head bang back against the door, eyes shut and tears streaming down your face. Sets an uneven rhythm with her fingers and tongue that has you moaning and trying to ride her face for more. Finger fucks you with wet, squelching vigour as you quiver and shake, walls tightening up as you careen towards climax. Starts putting pressure on your rim with a third finger just to tip you over the edge of it all, pleasure making you stupid. Jay bites down at the sensitive inner skin of your thigh and suddenly has to drink down the slick of your second orgasm. So her baby girl likes a little pain with her pleasure, she’ll have to remember that for next time.

Gently, she takes your trembling thigh off her shoulder and places it back onto the ground. Pulls your skirt back down to hide the utter wreckage she’s made of your panties. Jay scrubs at her chin with her hand, then licks down all the sweet remaining slick she finds there. Grins felinely as you moan at the sight.

“Hoping for a little something like that, honey?” She teases.

Vigorously you nod, head bouncing back and forth like a bobblehead, words still fucked out of your brain. She holds out a hand to you – not the one that’s just been buried knuckle deep inside you – and clasps your hand in her own.

“C’mon, let’s go home then,” she tells you airily, leading you back through the maze of the building.

“But what about the party?” you ask, mascara still smeared around your eyes.

“I don’t care,” Jay bites out. “I’m taking you home and I’m fucking you until either I pass out or the sun comes up.”

“Okay,” you say, voice just verging on a whine. “That sounds better, actually.”

“Good,” Jay smirks. “Because it wasn’t a question.”

series masterlist | part 2

[thezombieprostitute]

Sending you good vibes. ✨

And this man.

You know, I've never written for this giant of a man.

A/N: I do not speak German. I'm pulling a few things from this post and The Little Book of Foreign Swear Words by Sid Finch.

A/N2: Tall reader. Also, for context, König is almost 7' tall.

Warnings: Bad German. Please let me know if I missed any.

Working customer service was a sure way to get you to dream of running away to the middle of nowhere and never interacting with people again. And it's not just the customers, either. If you have to hear your manager bitch about "kids these days" one more time you're gonna start throwing things.

You swear your manager, Lance, gets a kick out of making you, the tallest employee, restock the lowest shelves. For a guy who seemed so confident in himself he sure felt the need to put others down for his own ego. He even chuckles to himself as he walks by and you're bent down for those bottom shelves.

With your knees not able to take much more, you let yourself stand up for a breather. You're startled by a "Scheisse!" On the other side of the cart you were unloading is a veritable giant of a man with grey blue eyes. He looked just as surprised to see you as you were him.

"Tut mir leid," he says. "I...I didn't see you."

"I um...I was pretty well hidden," you stutter. You're so caught off guard by the handsome man you have to look up to that it takes you a few seconds to regain your professionalism. "Um, is there anything I can help you with?"

"Oh, nein," he shakes his head. "Just trying to find some beer. Good stuff that doesn't uh...schmeckt nicht nach Pisse."

"Well, let me go ahead and get this cart out of your way then so you can see all of the options."

"Danke." He almost sounds relieved that you took the initiative and he didn't have to ask. Considering he immediately goes for the beer that your cart was blocking you get the feeling he was looking at it for some time. You wouldn't be surprised if he tended to feel awkward, socially at least. You know what it's like to be too tall for your own good.

Of course that's the moment Lance decides to check up on your progress. He's already upset at seeing you standing at full height, but with the giant standing next to you, he apparently feels the need to metaphorically swing his dick around.

"What the hell, Giganto? You get too tired of being on your knees? That cart needs to be emptied. You're way behind!"

"Mr. Tucker, there's a customer," you warn.

"What is he your cousin or something? Probably can't find anyone big enough to put you in your place unless you're related to them, damn inbred---"

He's cut off by the giant customer grabbing his neck.

"Dein Schwanz ist so klein, dass es 'ne Maus nicht merkt, wenn du sie fickst."

As much as you don't want to stop him, the customer is assaulting someone. "Sir, I really appreciate your help, but I don't want to have to call the police."

He lets go of Lance, "you are right, Häsechen. He is not worth the police visit." He reaches into his pocket and writes something on a piece of paper before handing it to you. "Should you seek...different employment, give a call. KorTac is hiring and someone as...patient, smart as you could do well."

You smile as you take the paper from him. Given the glares Lance is giving you, you'll likely need to call by the end of the day. You hope you'll get to see him again. Looking at the paper he gave you it has the number followed by "KorTac. König"

Tagging: @alicedopey; @delicatebarness; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @ronearoundblindly

[nsfwruru]

heyoo loved your Manon fic so much , can i request brat tamer Lara?? maybe cause she was jelous of how you acted with the other members 7th!member reader plspslsp , love you soo much tyy

Idol!Lara x Idol!Reader

hehehe… okay listen— after ignoring poor Lara for the whole day because you and the others were planning a surprise for her, she finally snaps and confronts you. Being her best friend you didn’t know she’d get this livid at your actions, but the world works in mysterious ways.

cw: smut (birthday sex, fwb, fingering, cunilingus, semi public, dom!lara), porn with some plot, establish relationship(best friends), not proofread

‘Are you a fucking idiot’ was a sentence that replayed in Lara’s head over and over again, even before practice started. For no apparent reason, but to piss her off, you’ve been such a prick ever since you’ve woken up. Firstly, you didn’t even have the courtesy to wish Lara a happy birthday when you got up, and decided to completely ignore her. Which was already a red flag, but being Lara, she just shrugged it off, maybe you’d just woken up on the wrong side of the bed this morning.

You also left her completely in the dust that morning, deciding that it would’ve been so much easier if you just left to practice without her, therefore arriving earlier to practice than anyone else.s Once again, Lara, being unbothered like she usually was, shrugged it off under the guise that maybe this was all just a well formulated plan to surprise her for her birthday! Although she couldn’t deny she was getting pretty agitated seeing both you and Daniela getting a little too close for comfort.

Maybe it was the fact you’d laugh a little too hard at her jokes, or maybe it was the fact that you’d cut Lara off mid sentence to bring up something you and Daniela did months ago. It was actually getting really annoying, because poor Lara would just try to include herself into the conversation, and then off you went blabbering about something that was sooo funny to Daniela, but suddenly a secret when Lara wanted to know.

Resting a hand out next to your mouth to cover your lips moving, whispering something into Daniela’s ear, Lara felt a weird surge of agitation course through her veins. She wasn't necessarily mad, she just found no real reason why you would need to be so close to her, especially now, when today was supposedly supposed to be all about her.

In your defense, you thought this was a full proof plan, see, you weren’t exactly the best at hiding secrets, especially with Lara, as she loved prying out every little detail of information out of everyone. So considering that you and the other girls had planned a whole surprise birthday party beforehand just for her, you decided that maybe it was for the best to ignore her completely. Therefore, you wouldn’t be able to spill the beans on anything, when you weren’t in contact with her!

And to your luck, it actually did work! Although it didn’t help with the fact you where all over Daniela, touching her curls, fixing her makeup, offering to give her your jacket after practice, all of things which you normally did with Lara. This anger grew so much to the point even the other members could see it radiating off of her, Manon, who usually kept herself busy and out of any altercation with any of her members, felt like her duty as the oldest to comfort Lara. Only for her to be shoved away as Lara stormed off to good knows where to do god knows what.

Manon, with her impeccable social skills, picked up up Lara’s behavior, asking you to seek her out, because of course, it wouldn’t be a secret birthday, without the birthday girl. So of course you complied, exploring around the building to look for her.

You opened the door to the washroom only to be met with her staring you down from the mirror, not even turning her neck around to check you out. Despite her already natural RBF, something about her set off alarms in your head, at this moment in time she looked beyond aggrieved, she looked like at any moment she was going to pounce on you.

In a docile manner, you inched closer to her, unable to wrap around your head why she looked so upset. You managed to come close enough to pat her shoulders, before she violently whipped back around, pushing you away from her. “Fuck— Don’t touch me Y/N, are you a fucking idiot?” Lara barker, turning her body fully towards you, both of your gazes eye level to one another.

Rightfully confused, you tried to plead your case with her, not understanding the severity of the issue. “What are you talking what Lara? I’m here to comfort you since Manon—“

“See there you go again, always talking about other people, what happened to me huh? What happened to talking with me, y’know, your fucking best friend?!” She bit back, cutting you off completely as she pushed herself closer towards you, from the look of it, she looked like she was on the verge of crying, or maybe even beating the shit out of you.

You felt terrible, not knowing that ignoring her would make such an impact on her, wanting nothing more than to comfort her. “I didn’t mean too!— it’s just that… well y’know…” You tried your best explaining to you, your reasoning just falling flat as she came inches away from you. Besides the fact you were both around the same height, her glare almost always seemed to scare you straight.

“No. I don’t know.” She bit back, rubbing her fingering through her hair, her acrylics tangling itself with her crimson hair. “What’s with you and Daniela anyways? You’re suddenly all up in her ever since today— is this just a scheme to piss me off?”

“No! I would never!” Trying to plead your case once more, only to be met with Lara digging her nails into the collar of your jersey-esc shirt, tugging you closer towards her. Rightfully so, your breath hitches at her actions, finding her sudden change in habits highly alarming, understanding she was never really like this until today. “Ack! I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean anything bad by it! I’ll make up for it, Lara, please I promise!”

“You didn’t mean anything bad by it? You really think I’ll believe the shit you’re spewing from your mouth right now?— Y’know what, I don’t forgive you.”

“Prove that you’re sorry, and I’ll maybe consider believing you.”

So you did just that, you spent a good 10 minutes trying to convince her that you really were sorry, whilst she was backing you up into one of the bathroom stalls. Lara nodded at each and everyone of your poorly made excuses, that you most definitely created on the spot, watching as beads of sweat trickled down your face as you told more and more lies. Of course, being as perceptive she was, she didn’t believe a single one, only getting more and more tired of your lies.

She took it into her own hands to shut you up, pinning you against the door of the bathroom stall, digging her lips angrily onto yours. Pulling away slightly to bite your lower lip with a scowl, “Your a really terrible liar you know that right?”

And with that, she slithered her hands over your bare stomach that you did nothing to hide, while she jerked her hands closer and closer underneath your loosely fitted baggy jeans. Finally gaining leverage under the waistband of your pants, she slid her hands under atop your crotch. Rubbing her index and middle finger around your clothed clit, feeling no need to take off your undergarment since you already felt so soaked.

Jolting in surprise, you rested your hands atop her shoulders in a way, trying to pry her off of you, feeling the sensation growing in your lower regions unbearable. She was your best friend, best friends don’t do things like this, and it made it all the more embarrassing knowing you where doing this at the company’s building’s bathroom. “Hah, oh my god— Wait!”

Your pleading worked to no degree, as she continued rubbing around your bud, feeling your underwear dampen from your wetness. She watched every single detail you could give her, the way your breath hitched when she continued to rub, or your sniffled moaning due to the stimulation.

Moaning her name repeatedly, trying to get her to quicken up her pace, only fueled her further. Removing contact from your clit, you whimpered at the loss of contact, right before she moved her hands into your underwear, fucking her fingers into you, leaving you with another surge of pleasure. Your grip onto her shoulders, moreover the grip you had on her thick jacket, tightened, almost letting your acrylics pierce into the fabric from how tightly you were holding her. “Shit, your gonna stab me with those, can you calm down?”

She took that as a sign that you where in fact, enjoying this as much as she did, giving her more confirmation to finger your gummy walls until you where nothing but a mess in front of her. Feeling how relentless she was, pushing in and out, you felt your walls on the verge of collapsing. She took that into consideration before pushing her lips back onto yours, the hunger in her eyes was palpable.

Her tongue pushing through your lips, begging for entrance, all the while continuing to fuck you silly with her fingers. A combination of the two, made you ALMOST come undone, “Lara, ple… please— M’ so close” you pleaded. Which would’ve been enough to let her fuck you to completion, if it wasn’t the fact you were pissing her off the whole day.

So without a moments notice, she ripped her fingers out of you, and pulled away from your hungry tongue, begging to taste all of her. Quite literally leaving you high and dry and you begging her to keep going, “Hah— Huh? Why’d you stop… I was so close?” Your voice was as curious as a cat, trying to ignore the mischievous glint in her eyes when she pulled away. “Good girls don’t get to cum do they? Idiots like you only get this.”

And with that, she pecked you on the cheek softly, before pushing you away from the bathroom stall door. “So be a good girl tonight, and maybe you’ll get a surprise.” Lara waved herself off, leaving you standing at the corridor of the bathroom in disbelief, looking as disheveled as before. Wanting to confront her, but knowing you were in no position to do so.

In return you did as you were told trying to suck up to Lara as best as you could, while still being wrapped around Daniela, as she was the one who originally planned the party. Which of course, didn’t go well with Lara once more, because she was under the presumption you knew what was wrong, and going back to your old schemes made it all the more agitating. You left with Daniela early, to set up the whole party at the dormitory, leaving, Manon, Sophia, Megan and Yoonchae, alone with a very annoyed Lara. They knew about the whole suprise, but they also knew that it was not a good idea to mess with an angry Scorpio.

Lara was so ready to beat your ass when her and the 4 other girls arrived to the dormitory, but was in an extremely pleasant surprise when she was greeted with all the girls singing her happy birthday, while you help up a cake for her to munch on. So her assumption was right! This was all for a surprise, though she was still a bit angry from before, but nothing a good party couldn’t fix.

The party was everything she could ask for, lots of gifts, surrounded by people she loved, and people who loved her, it was all so extraordinary. Lara was having the time of her life; dancing with new folk she’s just met, and feeling the beat of the music scroll through her. Well— that was true in the first half until she glanced back at you, your arms still clung around Daniela as you talked to her about how well the party was going. Lara who thought that you got the message, felt like now was the best time to finally enact her lesson upon you, to knock some sense into you.

Stomping towards you and yanking you by your wrist as the party continued, the music blaring as Daniela was left in shock my Lara’s actions. Pushing through the crowd of people Manon and Megan had the pleasure of inviting, all to celebrate Lara’s coming of age, she ignoring the ‘Happy birthday”s and simple pleasantries. Finally dragging you into the shared dormitory space where you both roomed together.

She spent no time on getting you undressed, pushing you down onto the bed as her knee pushed your thighs to separate from one another. As her knee dug softly onto your bud, still clothed with your underwear, she felt your body create a wet spot from your actions.

“L—Lara, don’t tease me please” You speak breathlessly, as she’s pulling her knee away and bringing her face down to your crotch, slowing pulling down your underwear. Tangling your hands into her soft red hair, as the sounds of muffled talking and EDM blasting through the living room speakers, was still blaring as loud as ever.

Lara, who had to raise her voice a bit, didn’t seem impressed by you, nor your actions “Tease you? Baby you don’t even know the meaning of that yet.” She’d laugh, ripping down your underwear all the way down to your ankle. And of course, she was definitely going to show you what it means to truly be teased, even if that meant getting caught by the other members.

She rested her hands atop your thighs, stopping them from crushing her in, as her nails bore into your skin. Urging you to stop being so childish and let her eat you out, bringing her tongue to your slit and pushing down a glob of spit onto it.

Brushing her tongue over your bud and around your folds, she took now time into leaving sloppy kisses on it, even bringing her tongue between your folds to get the most reaction out of you. “Don’t stop—please— fuck! That’s so good.” You groan, grabbing onto her hair in a bunch as you plead her to go quicker.

And she complies, licking and making out with your cunt until your a moaning mess, having nothing else to say but her name. Your worlds more like blabbers, as she continued to use her tongue to fuck you, pulling herself away was a chore, seeing how drunk off of you she was. Only creating some distance to tell you how great your being“Good girl baby, just like that, tell the whole world who you belong too.”

“You! Lara, You!” You scream out, still gripping tightly onto her red hair, as her nose rests between your folds, sucking on your glands, your legs subconsciously hooking over her shoulder in immense pleasure. She knew you came closer towards the edge as your body responded so highly to her touch, and the way you were so soaked, all indicated to the fact you came closer to your high.

She took one glance at you with her piercing gaze, her mouth still wide eating around your folds and into anything that was making you worm in pleasure, before prying her lips off of you. “What—” Just before you high could ever come, you tried pushing her back down to no avail, she wasn’t going to continue. “You really thought I’d let you cum that easily? After all the shit you put me through this whole day? You must be really fucked in your brain to ever think that then.”

Without another single notice, she brings herself back up, and kisses your plum lips, digging her mouth that was previously all over your cunt, into your lips. Her tongue demanding for entrance, her dominant hand snake back down to your slit, rubbing the bud once more as her kiss stops you from moaning too loudly.

Still sensitive from before, it only took a few moments of rubbing and soft moaning into her mouth, until your on the verge of letting the walls of pleasure crash down. And being the mean girl Lara was, she immediately pulled her hand away, leaving you in tears as you needed to release soon. “Wh—Why! Please Lara, I’ve been such a good girl, please!” You plead once more, although from the mischievous look in her eyes, she was enjoying the show that was unwinding right in front of her, having no real reason to stop now.

“Awh, princess, you really did need this don’t you? Since you did say you’re just, such, a good girl, maybe I’ll let you cum, alright?” Pretending to have some sympathy for you, she bringing her fingers down into your entrance, fucking you slowly to prep herself. Her slow ins and outs of your cunt, sounded like heaven, considering how wet you were previously, no amount of music or speaking could make her ignore how delicious you sounded.

Her fingers pounded into you harshly, the speed picking up into unexplainable speed, watching you unwind every time it slid back into your warm cunt. “Fuck— you take me so well, couldn’t expect anything less from a needy bitch.” She growled, her fingers fucking into you faster, instead of watching how nicely you sucked her middle and ring finger into you, she brought her gaze back at you. Watching as you scrunch your face in pleasure, and how little drops of drool covered your lips, letting it glisten under the dim lights.

Your moaning became unbearably loud, threatening to expose the both of you to the rest of the party goers, she immediately pushed her lips back to yours. “Mmphf” Shutting you up momentarily as her fingers continued at a high stable speed. Your cords only able to faintly speak some coherent words, and that was “Cum— M’ cumming!”

This time she didn’t pull away, digging her tongue deeper into your mouth as she continued to fuck you dumb with her fingers. Letting you cum all over her as she still pushed in and out and brought you through your high. Your chest heaving up and down as her pace slowed down significantly, but she didn’t pull away.

Breaking away from your kiss, her fingers still resting inside of you, she laughed at the mess she created at this moment. “My, you really did make such a terrible mess here baby.” Lara giggle at you, you slowly nodded as you were coming down from your high, trying to pull away from her to put your clothes back on, only to be met with her fingers pumping into you once more.

“Where do you think you going huh?” Lara chuckled, leaving you to jolt at her touch to your overstimulated state. “We aren’t done until I get every single drop from you.”

And with that you knew you were in for a long, long night, with or without the party going on outside.

I physically could not get myself to write this fic, GAWD I freak myself out when I write katseye x reader smut for some reason😕

[wren-kitchens]

no big deal (i love you)

2598 words

etho is in joel's house. it should probably be a little more alarming than it actually is, considering the fact that it is two in the morning and joel definitely did not invite him here. however, if it means he gets to make fun of etho for being so obsessed with him that he broke into his house, he'll take it. in all honesty, he is a little offended that etho hasn't already come to pester him—it's not like they’re soulmates or anything. if joel was in etho's house in the middle of the night, the first thing he would do is go to pester etho.

hello i'm back on my bullshit I love qpr boat boys

this took me like. idek how long but it was several months LOL

etho is in joel's house.

it should probably be a little more alarming than it actually is, considering the fact that it is two in the morning and joel definitely did not invite him here. however, if it means he gets to make fun of etho for being so obsessed with him that he broke into his house, he'll take it. in all honesty, he is a little offended that etho hasn't already come to pester him—it's not like they’re soulmates or anything. if joel was in etho's house in the middle of the night, the first thing he would do is go to pester etho.

oh- joel should probably tell you how he knows that etho is here, huh. well, let's be honest, the guy is not subtle. joel has practically memorised the way his claws scratch against wooden floors as he walks from the amount of times etho would pace in double life; when everything else is silent, etho's claws are deceptively loud. for a little while, joel didn't understand why etho wouldn’t use his claws like weapons, until he asked one day only to be told (slightly sheepishly) that he trims them because he hates the way they scratch against metal or diamond boots. honestly, joel gets it—he’s always been secretly pleased about the no-helmet rule in the life series; he would much rather sacrifice protection if it meant he didn't have to squish his ears underneath a helmet.

anyway, it's obvious that etho is attempting to be sneaky and failing miserably, but joel is yet to discover why he’s trying to be sneaky. he expected etho to- well, he’s not sure what he expected, but it wasn't whatever he’s doing right now. although, he also didn't expect etho at his house this late (early?), so it's kind of all up in the air anyway.

on that note, joel has no idea what to do. is it more awkward to pretend he doesn't know etho is here, or to go look for etho and ask what he's doing? honestly, joel kind of just wants to go find him and drag him into bed but- void, even saying that is embarrassing. no- there's no way he’s gonna do anything like that- pretend he didn't even say anything. joel regrets even mentioning it. despite how embarrassing it is, however, the problem remains that etho is definitely in his house, and joel has no idea why.

well, only one way to find out.

grumbling to himself about the blankets being way warmer than the outside world and why etho couldn’t wait until the sun had come up to come poking about, joel drags himself out of his bed and begins the hunt for etho. well- he pauses, grabs a blanket to wrap around his shoulders, and thenbegins the hunt for etho. honestly, why couldn't etho be more outgoing—the guy is way too reclusive to be friends with joel. not that joel is known for being introverted but- oh, you know what he means. 

it doesn’t take long to find etho—he’s curled up against a bookshelf near joel's bedroom, apparently trying to drift off. when he spots joel, he practically jumps out of his skin. 

"joel! you- did i wake you?" etho scrambles to his feet, looking uncharacteristically nervous. joel frowns at it. "i’m- I was just-" 

"are you okay?" joel realises after he says it that perhaps he was a little blunt, but- okay, in his defence, he has just woken up. "I mean- you seem.. uh, not okay."

smooth.

etho's ear flicks in what joel recognises as anxiety, hands clasped together as if to keep them from trembling. "me? oh- i’m perfectly fine! peachy even- y’know." 

joel tilts his head, more worried than he'd like to admit. "you- okay, so." his mind races as he tries to find something to say that won't put etho more on edge. "I- you say i’m obsessed with you, but- y’know, it looks a little like you’re obsessed with me right now."

"oh- no, no, that- I was just- taking build inspiration!" etho says hurriedly, and something about his posture seems slightly more relaxed. "it's nothing like that. in fact- I noticed that you kept that shirt with my face on, which- I mean, I don’t know, that looks pretty obsessed to me."

annoyingly, joel feels his face flush. "wh- okay, you let me keep it."

etho's eyes soften. "it- well. it suits you." joel's ear flicks unconsciously, and etho seems to realise how sappy he just was, because he turns pink and tacks on, "you- just- the shirt- it's oversized, and- you were saying how you liked them. uh- that one time."

joel can't quite suppress a smile at the fact that etho remembered one offhand comment he made two years ago. "whatever you say, etho." it takes a moment (and etho turning even pinker) for joel to realise how fond his voice was. "it- i’m making fun of you. not- y’know."

there's a spark of what joel can only describe as evil in etho's eyes, and he says, "whatever you say joel." with more smugness than he frankly deserves.

"you- no, you broke into my house, you don't get to make fun of me." joel says, indignant. clearly, his soulmate is the worst person in the world, because all etho does is poorly disguise a laugh as a cough.

"it isn’t breaking in if all your doors are open." etho grins. joel is a little annoyed at how well his plan has worked, because whilst he was trying to get etho more relaxed, he did not mean this relaxed.

joel raises an eyebrow, both exasperated and embarrassingly fond. "you haven't said why you broke in."

etho's expression shifts from amusement to anxiety in a matter of seconds, and joel is kind of impressed. "I- well, is that-  important?"

"you- since you asked like that, yeah." joel says, a little worried. whilst etho is pretty awful at actually disguising his emotions, usually he doesn't actually do anything about them unless something is very wrong. "I- y’know, don’t get me wrong, it's not- i’m not mad about it, but. are you alright?"

etho hesitates, looking as if he might try to make a run for it before sighing. he sits back down against the bookshelves, and joel takes the opportunity to sit next to him. "it's not even- it's barely a problem." etho glances at him. "as you would say, it's very dumb." 

joel scoffs, smiling a little. "then I guess it's my job to say that it's not dumb if it's upsetting you." he bumps his shoulder against etho's, who looks a little less anxious now. "what is it?"

there's a pause, in which joel can practically hear etho's brain working to phrase it in a somewhat normal way. "I- it's all-" he gives an exasperated huff. "since we- since double life, I keep getting these.. i’d call them dreams, but they’re really just nightmares." etho pulls his knees to his chest, and joel frowns in worry. "and they’re always something like- like we've won, but now I have to kill you. or you die and i’ve- i’m still there."

joel feels his breath hitch as the weight of those words hit him. "oh."

"so I just- I had to make sure," etho says, quiet. "that it- it was just a dream."

"etho." joel murmurs, resting his hand on etho's knee. etho takes his hand and squeezes. "I hope you know you’re not getting rid of me that easily."

etho gives the barest smile, and rubs a thumb against joel's hand. "I do."

"like, you’re gonna want me dead before i’m going anywhere." joel leans against etho's side in what he hopes is a nonchalant manner, but knows probably isn’t. 

etho makes a noise of contentment, and joel no longer cares about nonchalance actually. "that's unlikely." he says. joel is about to object when etho adds, "I don't think I could ever want you to leave me alone."

joel's tail begins to wag without his say, and he hurriedly grabs it before it embarrasses him too much. etho snorts and he elbows him.

"i’d miss that, for a start." etho says, and joel rolls his eyes.

"I wouldn’t." he huffs, no heat behind it. embarrassing or not, etho likes it, and that's a redeeming quality for anything. because he’s normal. 

etho gives a quiet laugh. "yeah- that's kinda why." he mutters, more to himself than to joel—who elbows him in the ribs and grins as he protests.

joel is quiet for a moment, debating whether what he wants to say is actually worth saying or not. eventually, he decides on, "you know- if you need, i’m not gonna.. kick you out, or anything. you can wake me up. if- if something happens again."

etho nods, staring at his lap. "yeah. I just-" he hesitates, and joel rubs a thumb idly across the back of his hand. "i’m starting to feel like you." he gives a laugh, and joel rolls his eyes fondly. "I didn’t realise just how- it's hard."

"yep." joel says flatly. "you get used to it, after a bit. it gets easier."

"can it get easier now?" etho says, grinning, and joel snorts. 

theres a little pause, and joel shifts a little, getting more comfortable. honestly, etho is surprisingly effective as a cushion—you wouldn't expect it, but he is. who needs a bed when you have a soulmate, is he right?

"are you-" etho starts, and joel looks up to see his eyes crinkle in the way they do when he’s trying not to smile. "is- are you using me as a pillow?"

"yep." joel says, shuffling closer. "I had to get out of bed for this."

etho snorts, wrapping an arm around him. "I see how it is."

they lapse into silence again, and joel finds himself wanting to ask something that he knows he would never be able to bring himself to say out loud. the irony is not lost on him- why is there no easy way to embarrass yourself? could he not just- turn his brain off whilst he’s asking and deal with the aftermath later? that seems so much easier than sitting here and trying to just say the stupid thing. it should not be nearly as difficult as it is.

come on. just- say the stupid thing, and then he'll have said it- it's not even bad. he’s, like- almost entirely sure that etho will say yes- he always does. this is so dumb. okay, just-

"do you-" joel manages, apparently startling etho with his suddenness, and- honestly, that alone is worth saying it. "it- 'cause I doubt we're gonna get much sleep on the floor. do you want to- um." he gives a huff of exasperation. "do you know what I mean?"

"I know what you mean." etho says, fonder than he probably wanted to sound, before- "I would love to sleep with you, joel." he says, far too smug for joel's liking.

"you- that's not what I mean." joel splutters, and etho laughs at him. "you’re so rude, etho- I can’t believe i’m helping you right now."

etho is still laughing to himself when he says, "I- really, though. I do- I get what you mean- and I do want to." he hesitates, and joel almost frowns.

"what?" he says, anxiety beginning to creep into his throat.

"I- well." etho pauses, before pulling joel a little closer to him, who almost laughs as he realises what the problem is. "i’m not. uncomfortable right now." 

joel grins at him. "it's not- this isn't exclusively a floor activity. I can hug you somewhere that's actually comfortable." 

faster than joel can process, etho pulls his mask down and kisses the top of his head. "fine, we can move." he pushes himself to his feet, a smirk evident in his voice. 

"you-" joel blinks, watching etho try (very obviously) not to laugh as he scrambles to regain logical thought. he can feel his tail begin to wag again, but he's far too focused on this to try and stop it. "why would you-"

etho shrugs, still grinning as he helps joel off the floor. "I- well, 'cause you do that." he says in a voice that's just a little too sincere to be teasing. "your smile is- it- y’know. 's nice." etho gets quieter and quieter as he speaks, apparently realising how mushy he’s become.

"you like my smile?" joel tries to pull off a smug smirk, but if etho's expression is anything to go by, it's also far mushier than he wants it to be. "aw, etho." he teases, watching with fond amusement as etho turns visibly pink under the mask. 

"that- we are going to bed!" etho declares loudly, pulling joel into a one-armed hug as he cackles. "i’m never gonna bring that up again." etho mumbles to himself, apparently forgetting that joel can definitely hear him still.

joel finds himself leaning into etho as they walk, who squeezes him gently. "you’re such a sap." he grins, pointedly ignoring the way his own tail is still wagging. "it's funny."

etho knocks his hip into joel's. "like you’re not." he says, and joel can hear the smile in his voice. 

"well," joel says, a little quieter than he'd usually be. "it's you." he turns, looking very pointedly anywhere but etho's face.

there's a little pause in which joel can only assume that etho is using to prepare the teasing he will undoubtedly get for the rest of his life, when etho finally lands on, "you- that's- you mean that?"

joel scoffs. "'course I do." he says, seriously hoping that his false nonchalance reads as real. "I- y’know, i’m not gonna- i’m-" he watches as etho's expression goes from anxiety to amusement and huffs, giving up on the pretence. "yeah."

etho pulls him a little closer. "nerd." is all he says, and he laughs as joel splutters in indignation. "sorry, sorry, I- it was too perfect." he grins, and joel scoffs. "I- y’know. I care about you too."

joel leans into him. "I do. know, that is." he smiles to himself a little. "y’know- soulmates and everything."

"yeah." etho presses a kiss into joel's hair, who gives a huff of embarrassed appreciation. "soulmates is a good word for it."

as they reach the bed, etho seems to hesitate a little, and joel—not one for awkward moments—practically yanks him in, laughing as he makes a very surprised squawky noise. after a second of complaining, etho curls up next to joel, who immediately begins to use him as a pillow again. what? he’s comfortable. nothing like a cushion who hugs you back whilst making snarky jokes about you being obsessed (which are obviously false. obviously).

"just to say," joel says, intentionally very casual. "if I got, like- I don’t know, booted from hermitcraft and couldn't see you again, i’d find a way back." he shifts a little, picking at his nails. "nothing could stop me- you know this."

etho is quiet for a moment, and joel is a little worried he overstepped, until- "I love you too, joel."

joel looks up to find etho's mask off, and the man in question smiling just a bit too knowingly at him. "yeah- well." he turns back to his nails. "love you." he mumbles, turning pink.

etho pulls him closer, and joel gets the impression that he wasn't sure joel was actually going to say it back. 

idiot.

[ladykailitha]

The Hellfire Exotic Club Part 11

Just two more chapters to go. The tension is ramping up and you're gonna want to hold on to your seats. This is the penultimate chapter before everything is revealed. And hooboy is it going to be great fun.

In this we find out who the cleaner was and he gives Eddie the final clue he needs to stop his troubles once and for all.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10

~

Eddie enjoyed watching the cleaning crew. They were like bees in a hive, not bumping up against each other or trying to do the same tasks. Cleaning up after some days was hell, like Tuesdays and Saturdays and he always made sure to pay extra on those days.

That said, he really didn’t know any of them. The only familiar faces were the foremen. Eddie has asked the head forman about it once and was told that cleaning Hellfire was such a cushy job that he rotated teams so that everyone got a chance at it.

So imagine his surprise when one of the cleaners stopped Steve on his way out of the dressing room for a short chat.

It looked a little heated, if Eddie was being honest and was about to step in when Steve broke away from the conversation and drifted his direction.

Eddie cocked his head toward the cleaner. “Who was that?”

“An old friend of mine,” Steve said with a shrug. “I didn’t realize he had fallen on such hard times. Apparently his mom broke her hip and hasn’t been able to work for the last year.”

“That’s rough,” Eddie said, and waved his arm for Steve to go first. “I don’t know how much the cleaners make, but maybe if he puts in an application we can find him something to do here. Hell, he could work in the kitchen if Monty liked him well enough.”

His chef was a thin, wiry looking fellow, but he knew how to make the best club food anyone had ever tasted. He was also particular about who worked with him. But Monty could always use an extra hand or two and it would never hurt to try.

“I’ll let him know the next time I see him,” Steve said with a fond smile. “He’s also got a little brother in college, maybe have him apply too. Couldn’t hurt. What’s the least that’s going to happen, you say no? They won’t be any worse off for applying.”

“Yeah,” Eddie agreed. He didn’t think that he would hire either of them if he was honest, but like Steve said, they wouldn’t be worse off for it. “So how was Creepy McCreepy?”

Steve bumped Eddie with his hip. “Henry Creel was fine. He’s just passing through, by the way, Mr. Worry Wort. I think he has bigger fish to fry then some high end exotic dancing club. Not that this place isn’t worth scalping, but I think he’s aiming for higher?”

“World domination?” Eddie teased, leaning into Steve space.

He laughed and nudged him away with his elbow. “Yeah, probably.”

~

Eddie ended up meeting with Steve’s friend because the guy needed consistent money coming in and while cleaning job paid okay, it really didn’t have many regular clients other than the club. Mostly they cleaned up after major sporting events, political conventions, stuff like that. And with their boss Murray always rotating the crew who cleaned the club, some weeks were good, others not so much.

Eddie had to admit that guy cleaned up really good. With his hair out of his face and wearing nice clothes, he wasn’t bad to look at.

“Jonathan Byers?” he said, rising to greet him from a table he had sectioned off for the interview.

“Yeah,” he said, shaking Eddie’s hand. “Thanks for agreeing to see me.”

Eddie smiled. “No problem. I’m sorry to hear about your mom.”

“Thank you.”

Eddie pulled out three pages and spread them out in front of Jonathan. “There are three positions open right now, let’s see if you fit any one of them.”

He pointed to the first one. “This is for the busser position. Basically you go around after people have left to take away plates and glasses as well as pick up any tips. You’ll get a small portion of the tips but mostly it’s a flat rate of $15 an hour.”

Jonathan nodded.

“This one is for a cook’s assistant,” Eddie said tapping on the second one. “Often called a prep chef in bigger kitchens. Basically you’ll prepare everything for the chef and put it in the fridge for him to grab as he goes. You’ll get here at 4pm and leave at 8pm when the club opens. Pay is $22 an hour because it’s only four hours a day.”

Again Jonathan nodded. “That makes sense.”

“And finally the waiter position,” Eddie said. “This one in the highest paid, but also the most demanding. You’ll only have two days off a week and you’ll work from 8pm-2am. Base pay is $15 an hour, but you get a set amount of tips every night. Usually it’s percentage, but if it’s a rough night, you’ll see a base pay of $200 in tips for the night. You aren’t expected to pimp for tips as it were, as you aren’t the main attraction. You’ll be invisible for most of the time and some will even get mad at you for blocking their view of the show.”

“Wow,” Jonathan said. “That’s really fucking generous.”

“I try to be,” Eddie said cocking his head to side, “because living in this hellscape we call American Capitalism is hard enough without having to worry about not having enough money for shit.”

“Can I take these with me and then send over my resume for the position I’m most interested in applying for?” Jonathan asked, placing his hand over the a couple of the pages.

“Sure thing,” Eddie said. “I have copies on my computer. I’ll give you to the end of the week, otherwise I’m going to have to start looking elsewhere.” He stood up and Jonathan did the same.

“That’s fair,” Jonathan said, holding up the pages. “Thanks for this. Because you gave me a chance, even if I don’t end up working here.”

They shook hands.

“Let me walk you to your car,” Eddie said, waving his arm for Jonathan to go first.

He huffed out a laugh. “I don’t have a car right now, my girlfriend is coming to pick me.”

“Then I’ll wait with you,” Eddie offered.

Jonathan considered it a moment and then shrugged. “Sure, man. Whatever.”

They walked out to the curb and chatted about Jonathan’s family and how his mom was doing. “My brother is going to be famous one day,” Jonathan said with pride. “He is such an amazing painter, his work should be hung galleries.”

“Yeah?” Eddie said with a smile. He knew that tone of voice. It was the same tone Wayne got when he talked about him. “So what did baby Jonathan Byers want to be when he grew up?”

“This is going to sound so weird,” Jonathan said with a smirk, “but a bug photographer. Not wild life in general. Bugs. Creepy crawlies. Insects and spiders. I loved that shit as a kid. I don’t know how many times I freaked out my mom by bringing in a new bug to take pictures of and then release back into the wild.”

“Young Eddie would have loved you,” he said softly. “I liked bugs and critters you aren’t supposed to go anywhere near. Raccoons, possums, squirrels. Baby Eddie loved them all. My mom,” he wagged his hand back and forth, “not so much.”

“There she is now,” Jonathan said jutting his chin at the red hatchback pulling into the parking lot.

Eddie pursed his lips and resolved not to say a damn word until she did.

And oh boy did she ever. She got out of the car and immediately started yelling at Jonathan.

“What on earth are you doing here?” she cried. “I thought you had an interview.”

Eddie tilted his head to side. “Not an interview yet, more like a fact finding mission. But I like him.” He grinned at her.

“I forbid you from working here!” she shrieked. “This is a den of sin! I have vowed to take it down.”

“Nancy,” Jonathan said warningly. “We’ve had this discussion. If I didn’t work at every place you found morally objectionable, I wouldn’t be able to work at all. I just need something stable until Will graduates and Mom can move around on her own again.”

“When you told me that Steve was working in this hive of iniquity ,” Nancy growled, “I made it my responsibility to shut it down once and for all. To save Steve, to save you from having to sweep the vile filth from its floors.”

“What?!” Jonathan cried. “I didn’t tell you Steve was working here to have you go on one of your crusades. I told you because Steve was a good friend when both of you were dancing ballet together.”

“It’s a sin!” she cried one more time.

“So is fornication,” Jonathan huffed. “And breaking and entering and a shit ton of other things you do that are supposedly okay as long as you do them.”

Nancy folded her arms and stomped her foot. “That’s not the same and you know it. They have actual fucking nights dedicated to a specific deadly sin. I may have broken a few laws in my time, but I would never stoop the depths of depravity that his club sinks to!”

“You continue with this vendetta,” Jonathan warned, “and I swear to God, we’re through. There is nothing wrong with what they do. So what if people see them naked. Don’t go see it. Your rights stop at their personhood. You can only dictate what you do and not anyone else.”

He turned to Eddie. “Can you take me home? I don’t think I want to be in the same car as her.”

“Sure thing, man,” he replied, thumbing behind him. “Just let me lock up and I’ll be right out.”

When he came back Nancy had gone and Jonathan looked like a kicked puppy.

“You ready to go?”

Jonathan nodded and without a word followed him to his car. After get the address and putting it into the GPS, Eddie said, “I’m sorry about how she acted. Has she done this sort of thing before?”

“When I first graduated high school I got a job at a photography studio,” he muttered. “I took pictures of babies and toddlers. I had this cute little pink rabbit that never failed to get a smile.” He cleared his throat. “She found out that in addition to family portraits, bridal and wedding photos, they also did boudoir photo shoots.”

“Oh no,” Eddie moaned, completely seeing where this was going.

“Yeah,” Jonathan said with a sniffle. “She got the place shut down when she found out that some official’s daughter got them for the guy she was sleeping with, who was not her fiancé.”

Eddie frowned. That sounded too familiar.

“Anyway,” Jonathan continued, “this bitch got the whole place shut down and suddenly I was without a job. If I ever find her, I think I’d like to strangle her with my bare hands.”

“Her named wouldn’t be Heather Holloway, would it? Mayor Kirk Holloway’s daughter?” Eddie asked running his tongue over his upper lip slowly.

Jonathan snapped his fingers. “Yeah, that’s the snake in the grass.”

Eddie pulled off to the side of the road and closed his eyes. “It’s a fucking scam. Holy shit! It’s a fucking scam.”

“What is?” Jonathan asked.

Eddie turned around. “I just figured the whole thing out. All of it. The attacks against Steve, Billy getting caught with his hands up the wrong skirt, Jason fucking Carver. I’ve got to give it to your girl, she is one smart manipulative bitch. But I’m smarter.”

~

Tag List:

1-@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @cryptid-system

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10- @themoonagainstmers @gloomysoup @novelnovella @micheledawn1975 @garden-of-gay

[apoloadonisandnarcissus]

Galadriel/Frodo and Sauron/One Ring in “Rings of Power”

Since the showrunners of “Rings of Power” have confirmed they are doing a parallel with Frodo/One Ring, and Galadriel/Sauron on the show, I would like to theorize on this.

This goes beyond the obvious Morgoth’s crown wound (Galadriel) vs. Morgul blade wound (Frodo), because this wasn’t the only thing they revealed; they, also, said Galadriel shares the same push and pull relationship with Sauron, as Frodo has with the One Ring.

The One Ring contains a part of Sauron’s soul, since he spent much of his power into forging it (weakening himself in the process, and becoming vulnerable without it). As such, we see a lot of Sauron’s qualities in the One Ring: seductive and irresistible power, a poisonous “wish granter” of sorts.

Adar: But sooner or later, he sees you. Not just who you are, but who you wish to be. His eye bores a hole and the rest of him slithers in. For a while, he even makes you believe that his power has become yours. Irresistible power... that makes every desire's fulfillment seem inevitable. An ocean of color against which everything else feels forever thereafter... Galadriel: A dull gray. Adar and Galadriel discuss Sauron, 2x06

Very much like Sauron himself, the One Ring discovers the deepest desire of its bearer, and weaponizes it for its own corruptive ends, enslaving the bearer to it. And its allure is so magnetic, it’s not necessary to actually hold it to feel it, being in its presence is enough to stir the obsessive wish to possess it.

The One Ring comes into Frodo’s possession in “Fellowship of the Ring”. When we meet Frodo, he’s the average Hobbit, and doesn’t worry about the outside world, nor on what goes on beyond the Shire. When he’s given the One Ring, Gandalf warns him about how easy it is for the Ring to corrupt him. Frodo promptly denies ownership of the Ring, and urges Gandalf to melt it, throw it away or take the Ring for himself. Only when confronted with the reality that none of these options are possible, does Frodo, reluctantly, accepts to keep the ring.

However, it takes a while for the Ring to influence Frodo, which shows his resilience. The first time we see this happening (in the book; it’s different in the Peter Jackson adaptation) is at the inn in Bree. During a raucous sing along, Frodo decides to end his song by jumping in the air and using the magic of the ring to turn invisible. And Frodo does this, of his own free will, and despite Gandalf’s warnings to never put it on.

At Rivendell, we see Frodo starting to become possessive over the One Ring; when his uncle Bilbo asks him to see it, and Frodo doesn’t want to show it to him, despite the fact his uncle has no intention of taking it. (Another change of Peter Jackson adaptation). By the end of the book, Frodo gains awareness of the influence of the One over himself, and he goes through a intense inner struggle; he describes it as “two powers striking in him” and he feels “perfectly balanced between two points”. And it’s only by great self-control that Frodo “gets himself together” and decides he must destroy the Ring.

As Frodo continues his journey to Mordor, his corruption by the One becomes more evident. In “The Two Towers” (the second book of the trilogy), Frodo and Sam take in Gollum, to show them the way to Mordor. And this is when the effects of Frodo’s corruption becomes more obvious to the reader.

Frodo makes Gollum swear an oath he will not betray them. Gollum swears it on the One. Sam (an uncorrupted Hobbit) says they should not trust Gollum (based on his character), while Frodo (a corrupted Hobbit) knows he can trust Gollum because he swore it on the Ring, and he knows its power is too great for Gollum to resist; Gollum is bound to any promise he makes on it, because Frodo is aware of the power the One over himself, already.

In “The Two Towers”, Frodo’s corruption becomes apparent, as we see him getting more possessive and obsessive over the Ring. And when he meets the Witch King of Angmar (the leader of the Nazgûl), again, he loses control of himself and nearly takes the One Ring, but is abruptly stopped by Sam, who compells him to fall down a wall.

This parallel can indicate it was an external force (Sam/Nenya) who stopped Galadriel (Frodo), and not Galadriel herself; very much like what happened in "The Two Towers".

However, Frodo’s corruption only becomes obvious to the reader in “The Return of the King”. When Frodo has the opportunity to, finally, dispose of the One, when he’s at the summit of Mount Doom (the only place it can be destroyed). And, at the end, Frodo can’t bring himself to part with the One. “But I do not choose to do what I came to do. I will not do this deed. The ring is mine.” Frodo has been fully corrupted by the One, and the Ring only gets destroyed because Gollum bites off his finger and falls into the volcano with the ring, destroying it, at last.

In the aftermath, and even through the One has been destroyed, it’s evident Frodo will forever be scarred by its power. He tries to lead a normal life, but finds he can’t. On the anniversary of the loss of the Ring, he suffers nausea; he cannot father children, and he withdraws from coexisting with the other Hobbits on the Shire, because he no longer feels the need to socialize. He soon realizes, the only place for him is Valinor.

Many in the Tolkien fandom underestimate how strong-willed Frodo truly is. Because we see powerful characters like Gandalf and Galadriel getting immediately tempted by the One, while Frodo promptly refuses it. He also, selflessly, accepts to take on a mission that can result in his death. When he realizes the influence of the One over himself, he does not give into the temptation of disposing of it or giving it to more power-hungry characters which would gladly take it from him (like Galadriel herself, or Boromir).

To understand this better I recomend Tolkien Letter 246: Frodo indeed 'failed' as a hero, as conceived by simple minds [...] I do not think that Frodo's was a moral failure. At the last moment the pressure of the Ring would reach its maximum – impossible, I should have said, for any one to resist, certainly after long possession, months of increasing torment, and when starved and exhausted. Frodo had done what he could and spent himself completely (as an instrument of Providence) and had produced a situation in which the object of his quest could be achieved. His humility (with which he began) and his sufferings were justly rewarded by the highest honour; and his exercise of patience and mercy towards Gollum gained him Mercy: his failure was redressed.

Frodo leaves the Shire, manages to accomplish his goal (via Gollum), but at great personal cost; and returns, a sad and defeated winner. Hence the “bittersweet ending” of “The Lord of the Rings”. Frodo accepted the mission to save the Shire, but once his goal is completed, he finds he can no longer enjoy the Shire, because the Hobbit who returned is no longer the same that left it. Frodo is the “tragic hero ending”, because evil can’t never be truly destroyed, and forever lingers inside of us; it can only be driven back, by our own choices.

Frodo/Galadriel and Gollum/Adar

A while back, I did a post on how “Rings of Power” is giving Sauron some Gollum inspiration, but this parallel is more clear on Adar's character, especially in Season 2.

We see the obsession in owning/destroying Sauron in both Galadriel and Adar, in Season 2, very similar to Frodo and Gollum with the One ring. Gollum is the worst case (obviously) of the owning vs. destroying dynamic; although Frodo will eventually get there. 

Both of these characters are consumed by the idea of finding and destroying Sauron, all by themselves, going to extensive lengths to accomplish that. While Adar is sacrificing his children (Orcs) in the pursuit of Sauron; Galadriel goes rogue on Elrond’s company when she gets the chance, and allows herself to get captured by Adar, in the hope of getting the opportunity of finding and destroying Sauron herself. 

Adar is the one who destroyed Sauron’s previous physical form (paralleling Gollum destroying the One ring); and Galadriel throws Elrond under the bus, by revealing he’s the one who carries Nenya (the ring Adar wants), just to get the chance of getting to Sauron, herself (paralleling the poisoning of Frodo and Sam’s friendship over the One ring). 

And much like Frodo and Gollum, we see Galadriel and Adar “bounding” over the effects the One Ring/Sauron has on them, in 2x06; with these characters revealing Sauron’s temptations to each other, and agreeing on his destruction, and on an alliance in order to accomplish that.

However, and like Frodo and Gollum, this alliance soon goes sour, with Gollum/Adar betraying Frodo/Galadriel to an agent of the Enemy (Shelob), by setting up a trap. Only in “Rings of Power” this agent of Sauron is… Elrond? But he’s also Sam, who comes to the rescue with the Phial of Galadriel/pin? Something is off with this parallel, or perhaps Elrond is Sauron's cat, too. Both these scenes have some sort of “kissing” involved: Shelob licks Frodo’s face (to paralyze him), and Elrond kisses Galadriel. 

Similar to Frodo and Gollum, Galadriel and Adar still agree, at the end, because they both share the same goal (destroying/owning the One ring/Sauron). And like Gollum, Adar pays the price with his own life; but he also somewhat “redeems” himself at the end (like Gollum), because he wanted to end all wars. And both characters die because of Sauron/One ring.

We also have a nod to the Sméagol/Gollum dynamic with Adar, althought it didn't exactly play out all the way through (which makes me wonder if this will come back with a different character): “Don't ask Sméagol. Poor, poor Sméagol, he went away long ago. They took his Precious, and he's lost now.”

In the Peter Jackson adaptation, it translated in this scene:

Frodo: Who are you? Gollum: Musn't ask us. Not his business, gollum, gollum. Frodo: Gandalf told me you were one of the river-folk. Gollum: Cold be heart and hand and bone, cold be travellers far from home. Frodo: He said your life was a sad story. Gollum: They do not see what lies ahead, when sun has failed and moon is dead. Frodo: You were not so different from a Hobbit once, were you... Sméagol? Gollum: What did you call me? Frodo: That was your name once, wasn't it? A long time ago. Gollum: My... my name. Sméagol... Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers (2002)

Frodo/Galadriel and Sam/Elrond

“Rings of Power” is also exploring Galadriel and Elrond’s relationship, with them being closer than best friends. Galadriel is almost like a stepmother to him, after all. And Elrond appears to be paralleling Sam in Galadriel/Frodo character arc in the show.

Indeed, we see Elrond’s character making several parallels to Sam; he’s the one with whom Galadriel shares a bit of her temptation of Sauron, like Frodo does with Sam about the One Ring.

Elrond is also the character who “saves” Galadriel on several occasions connected to Sauron (like Sam with Frodo, and the One ring), and we’ve seen this in both Season 1 and Season 2, already. 

Like Sam, Elrond is also deeply worried about the effects of Sauron/One Ring on Galadriel/Frodo, as we’ve seen on Season 2: The light of Valinor shone upon your very face, Galadriel, and you turned your back on it. Was it truly to fight the darkness or was the darkness calling to you?

Similar to Sam with the One Ring, we see Elrond being suspicious and distrusting of Nenya due to Sauron’s presence at Eregion “for weeks” in 1x08; and Elrond/Sam advices Galadriel/Frodo to take it off, or “giving it a rest” several times.

Like Sam, Elrond is also present when Galadriel/Frodo wakes up after being wounded by Morgoth's crown/Morgul blade, and they share a tender moment. Both take place in Rivendell (because it's almost certain the "sanctuary protected by the Elven rings" is Rivendell, and will be a major location in Season 3).

What can this mean for future seasons? 

If this parallel is to continue, this gives us several clues: 

Galadriel will succumb to Sauron (like Frodo to the One ring); 

Elrond will continue to be a key piece in all of this, and a “emotional rock” to Galadriel’s character, like Sam is to Frodo; 

Like Frodo, Galadriel will be forever scarred by Sauron/One Ring, and unable to lead a normal life, and will develop a deep longing to return to Valinor, knowing only there can she find true healing (this last bit we already knew from Tolkien lore).

[thelov3lybookworm]

I Am Forever Yours (part 2)

Day 5: Home

Summary: He thought her worthy enough.

•○●⛦●○•

Word Count: 1136

Warnings: nothin just fluff 🥹

A/n: i love love LOVEEEE this one its so soft 🥺

@lucienweekofficial

ANYWAY ENJOYYYY 🥳

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

Another jolt shook the carriage, and Y/n clenched her thighs to prevent herself from toppling straight into the prince’s lap.

It was becoming harder and harder to stay in her seat the longer they remained on the rocky road they traversed on the insistence of the prince. Apparently, it was the scenic route.

She was the only one in the carriage with him, their parents and other members of court travelling in different carriages as they made their way to the King’s palace that was sparsely used save for hosting royal weddings. Y/n had expected to go through the same route her parents were supposed to be using, but Lucien had insisted otherwise.

"Are you sure this is supposed to be the better route? I am quite concerned about my wellbeing when- and if- we finally arrive."

He laughed, carefree and open as if he was not the reason her bones were knocking together.

"Just a few more moments, and we’ll reach smooth ground again."

Y/n sighed and leaned back, her fingers clutching at the fine upholstered material of the seat she occupied, thinking of the best way to ask him why he thought this was a good idea without offending him.

"My lord, I do not wish to be disrespectful, but-"

"Oh cut the formalities, my lady. Ask what you wish to."

Y/n blinked, wondering if he even realised he didn’t listen to his own words. But she proceeded nonetheless. "Why are we taking this route? Surely you do not enjoy being thrown against the hard walls of this carriage?"

He offered her a slight smile, settling back as the jostling carriage slowed to a smooth race.

"Lady Oak, you must know, I like you quite a lot. And you, I hope, like me too. I thought that while we are getting married soon, I should trust you with parts of me no one has seen before."

Y/n swallowed, unable to move her gaze from his even as the intensity in his eyes seemed to conquer her soul.

"As I have previously mentioned, I do not live with my family at the palace. I tend to travel the kingdom, and when I do not have anything to do, I stay at my home away from everyone. You see, I rather like the quiet comfort of my humble home than the extravagance of the palace."

Y/n blinked at him, taken aback. "I did not know that, my lord."

He smiled. "And neither does anyone except my parents, siblings and the carriage driver. Though I prefer to ride my horses when travelling, for it is better for speed when alone."

He paused, heaving a sigh before he continued speaking as the carriage came to a stop. "I wanted to… show you my home. I know it might be nothing compared to the palace, but it’s something I cherish a lot."

Disgusting tears. Stop pricking my eyes.

Y/n scooted forward, hesitantly touching the back of his hand. "I’m honoured, my lord."

His smile was radiant as he turned his palm and grasped hers tightly, bringing it to his lips. "I am glad you feel that way. And it’s Lucien. Would you like to take a look inside?"

Y/n nodded silently, watching him as he hopped out of the carriage and turned to help her down. The chaperone that had accompanied Y/n and Lucien on the insistence of their parents did not turn to look at the two, his spine straight, and Y/n knew that Lucien had probably bribed him to ignore their little adventure.

The house was not small by any means, a large front porch and stables accompanying the large structure. It of course was a child’s toy compared to the king’s palace, but it probably would have been more that half the size of the estate Y/n grew up in.

Lucien led her inside without a word, and he remained silent for as long as the two were there. He kept looking at Y/n, as if unsure what she would think of it, worried she would hate it.

Y/n was quite baffled he would think she would dislike what he called home but she was much too engrossed in staring at all the little trinkets, the little souvenirs and carpets scattered across the space that told of a home well loved to reassure him.

It was only when the two hurried back to the carriage and began moving to the palace did Y/n look at Lucien. He was already staring at her, his eyes searching her face.

"I love your home, my lo- Lucien."

Instantly, his lips split into a grin. "Really?"

Y/n nodded with a shy smile. "It is beautiful. I’d rather live in a smaller home than the palace too. And that home, I… I can see myself turning old there."

He looked down at his lap, his ears turning a shade darker. "Thank you."

Y/n turned her gaze downward to watch her fingers fiddling with each other, thanking the mother for giving her such an adorable husband. He was not the pompous ass she had thought he’d be, given he was the youngest prince. He had unknowingly forced Y/n into softening the shell around her heart to let him in. She still remembered the way she had behaved with him when they first met, how she’d tried her best to be uninterested in him.

It hadn’t really worked, somehow backfiring. But she was glad it had.

"That house… it was my old caretaker’s house which she left for me after her passing. It means a lot to me. I used to come here to hide away from my father when he turned violent, and with time, I made it my everything. It’s the first place I felt like I actually belonged.  My family knows I have my own home, but no one has ever been here."

She blinked. "So I am the first one to ever… visit?"

Y/n lips ticked up, warmth spreading through her chest at knowing the fact that she was the first one to see the home he cherished so much.

I am not worthy.

"Lady Oak-"

"It’s Y/n."

He ducked his head in a nod, cheeks dimpling. "Y/n, we’ve still got an hour to pass. You should get some sleep."

She groaned. "As much as I am happy that you thought me worthy of revealing such an important aspect of your life, I must say that I do not wish to forgive you for the anguish you’ve caused my bones."

He laughed, loud and hearty. "Forgive me for my sins, wife."

It was Y/n’s turn to blush now.

He only smirked.

"Sleep. I’ll wake you when we arrive."

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

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Lucien Vanserra Taglist: @mirandasidefics @tele86

[ilyrafe]

𝒉𝒊𝒕𝒎𝒂𝒏 ✧ 𝒓. 𝒄. | 𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝒕𝒘𝒐

pairing: hitman!rafe cameron x f!reader

warnings: none :)

word count: 1k

part one

taglist: @starkeyvhs @toterry @httpsdrewstarkey @gillybear17 @baby19sthings @zya8tracks

a/n: this is such a shitty chapter but please bear with me i had such a terrible creative block!!! god i hate it here

a stroke of luck.

when joshua was found, both rafe and y/n were far. well, rafe wasn’t that far, but she had really disappeared. the next day, rafe still wanted to send a message to her and let her know that everything was done, but that number didn’t exist anymore.

as a precaution, rafe was always around, wanting to know if there was any suspicion about joshua’s death, but apparently, everyone there knew that he was “a time bomb about to explode”. the neighbors saw y/n leaving with all of her belongings, so they assumed that he couldn’t take it and took his own life.

“i knew one of them would end up dead,” an older woman told a friend, and rafe paid attention. “and i prayed it wouldn’t be her, because she was a good person. he would get drunk and when she would say she’d leave, he’d threaten to kill her and then himself. i’ve heard their arguments!”

in the end, y/n received a good amount of life insurance for still being legally married to him. good for her.

and life went on, as it would. as it should.

rafe continued his infamous business of killing for money, and whenever someone contacted him, he was disappointed that it wasn’t her. as much as he didn’t want to admit, he always caught himself thinking about her and wondering how she was doing, if she was okay.

rafe has seen grotesque scenes that no longer bother him, but imagining joshua putting his dirty hands around her neck, or scaring her makes his blood boil, because he’s done it before with his own sister, and that’s his biggest regret. if there’s a heaven and a hell, rafe knows very well where he’s going, and he’s already come to terms with it, but one thing he’ll never do again in his life is to be violent towards another woman - any woman.

even a hitman needs to have some morals.

the fear in sarah’s eyes still disturbs him. when he goes to sleep, that’s all he dreams of. he relives the moment all night long, and then he drinks to forget it, but it doesn’t help - the image of him nearly killing his own blood is too much.

when he remembers that day at the diner, he can’t get the image of her out of his head - she looked so small, so defeated. deep down, rafe knows all of the answers to the questions he asks himself. he’s smarter than he gives himself credit for.

(...)

the life of a hitman can actually be very lonely, something rafe still struggles to deal with. every once in a while he goes for a walk in the park when his mind is going places he doesn’t want to go.

an autumn afternoon in chicago is like a scene from a painting, where nature’s colors are in their full, fiery splendor. as he steps outside, the air is crisp but not too cold, just enough to warrant a light jacket, with the occasional breeze that carries the earthy scent of fallen leaves. the city’s famous skyline stretches against a sky that shifts between deep blue and soft gray, as the sun begins its descent, casting golden light over everything.

he’s trying so hard to see beauty in things, to keep himself afloat. rafe is numb. not even the hardest drug can make him feel anything. sometimes he does admire the nature around him, and to see the blue of the sky, in its immensity, makes him realize that, in a good way, none of this is real. none of this means anything.

we are all just cells, wandering around.

the sounds of the city seem a little softer in the fall, as people slow down to take in the beauty around them. a gentle hum of traffic can be heard in the distance, while the occasional laughter of children playing outside or the sound of a distant train passing through the city adds to the ambiance.

rafe has always had a soft spot for children. well, not exactly children, but what they represent. a kind of purity that seems untouched by the complexities and burdens of the adult world. it’s in the way they see the world with wide-eyed wonder, where everything is new and full of possibility. their joy is spontaneous, like a burst of laughter that rings out without reason, simply because they are in the moment. their innocence is also in their ability to feel deeply, yet let go just as easily. they live in the present, their hearts and minds unburdened by the weight of regret or worry. oh, and their unwavering belief in the goodness of the world. that sense of trust in the world, in people, in their own ability to be loved and to love in return, is a beautiful, fragile thing, one that people often lose or forget as they grow older (rafe knows it better than anyone else), but can still glimpse in the eyes of a child.

he would give anything to feel that way again.

whenever he remembers his childhood, rafe feels a sense of regret, an overwhelming desire to find a way to go back in time. oh, if only he could. be a child with no real worries. run through the freshly mowed grass, stumble and fall, and be comforted by his mother.

perhaps his luck has run out. he’s managed to leave a life of crime behind and come out of it mostly unscathed, he can’t just think that he can expect to find love - any type of love - in the same lifetime.

while walking through the park, rafe notices a young woman sitting on the grass, enjoying an ice cream. she seems carefree, just in the moment, observing everything around her. as he walks, he manages to get closer to her and... oh my god.

it’s her.

it’s her.

with each step taken towards her, rafe feels his heart beat faster. a mix of anxiety and excitement for finally having found her, after a year.

he stops right next to her, with his hands on the front pockets of his jacket, and waits until she notices his presence. when she does, she looks up, shielding her eyes from the sun.

“hi.”

“oh, my god. cameron?!”

i'd love to know your thoughts!!!

[taigarrryen]

-> The Paper Art Post <-

Let's make some Wild Life ep.3 snails together!

First of all, I make a sketch (usually it's already the size I want the final thing to be, because I'm a very lazy person).

At the point where everything is apparent enough to have a clear vision in mind, I go to my paper scrap drawer and think of what colors and textures I want to use (although sometimes I initially start from the color palette).

Here they are! But don't get too attached, we're gonna destroy them later >:)

And while we're on it, let's talk a bit about textures!

Textures are like candy for our eyes. They are an easy way to trick your brain into thinking that something is more detailed than it actually is, hence it adds interest and makes the whole piece fun to look at.

However, this is also why it's important not to overuse them — it's easy to get lost in the details and accidentally make your piece difficult to perceive as a whole.

You can make textured paper yourself using literally anything you can come up with: paint a sheet of paper with gouache or tempera, make swirls and gradients with watercolor or inc, scribble with colored pencils, make prints with various objects (I enjoy making prints of crumpled paper tissues soaked in ink), etc etc. Packaging film or candy wrapping also can be cool.

My only advice is be careful if you use gouache: some colors can make your fingers messy even after completely drying, so that has to be kept in mind to avoid accidentally leaving a dirty fingerprint somewhere you didn't plan for it to be.

For the tools I recommend using not only scissors, but a modeling knife/scalpel and an awl as well. Modeling knife makes cutting small things much easier, and awl comes in handy when you want to transfer a detail on paper but don't want to use pencil.

For gluing stuff I use gluestick, rubber glue and double-sided tape.

Now the fun part!

You can add details with colored pencils and markers ↑

As you can see, the process is pretty simple: I cut the piece I need from the sketch and transfer it to colored paper.

When it comes to assembling pieces, you can carefully cut them so that everything fits together like a puzzle, or simply glue them on top of eachother.

Keep the scraps (unless they're objectively tiny, of course)! You never know when you'll want just that amount of just that color or texture. It's also much more practical to cut new details from the side of the sheet from which you have already cut, rather than start from different edge every time you need a piece of that color.

Don't rush to glue things down! Along the way you might want to move something a bit or put one piece under another, and with quickly gluing everything it won't be possible. I like to work in big parts, making every object or character in the picture first and then, after putting them on their places and fumbling around, gradually assemble everything like lego.

Here are two parts of the picture (Bdubs' snail + Tango&Etho's snails) and a piece of red film I want to put on the background in some places. All that's left is to assemble everything by carefully gluing it on to my sketchbook page :)

You also can elevate certain parts of your artwork to create depth and areas of interest, using puffy tape or п-shaped / [-shaped piece of paper and glue. It looks really cool, but I usually don't do that because it's inconvenient for me to store & I like to keep everything in the sketchbooks.

TA-DAAA, we're done! The best thing about this technique is that you don't have to be good at actually drawing to make something that looks interesting!

Hope this post was useful and you've got inspired to try paper art for yourself! (And if you did — send me your art in ask box or replies, I'll be very glad to see it :] )

[tellyouily]

you can hear it in the silence

dnf - tooth-rotting fluff - 886 words

aka. the fluffiest fluff that ever fluffed :)

• • •

Lately, they’ve taken to sleeping in George’s room.

Which makes no sense, really, considering Dream’s bed is bigger, softer and the room itself closer to the main part of the house. Not to mention that his AC actually works like it’s supposed to and his curtains actually close all the way.

All of this, and they have still ended up under George’s covers every night for the last couple of weeks.

Like with most things these days, they can blame it on work.

George’s office is where most of the coding happens, because he is the one doing most of the coding, and it is conveniently located right next to his bedroom. So when Dream comes in at night, so tired he could fall asleep standing up, to pull George with him to bed, then well, it’s whatever bed is closest.

Not that Dream minds. He likes George’s room, even if it’s bare and boring. He also likes George, and sleeping next to him, and maybe those two facts outweigh everything else. Just maybe.

George who is all soft limbs and no sharp edges, and smells like home and is somehow always warmer than Dream is.

The truth is that he is the only person Dream can share a bed with and actually sleep better because of it. Whose breathing and tossing and turning lulls him to sleep rather than annoy him.

So yeah, Dream is fine with anywhere, any bed, so long as it’s the two of them in it together.

It is an early morning in the third week that the room thing becomes an issue.

The sound of birds chirping is usually pleasant… except when it’s the sound that wakes you up. Before sunrise. Slowly, Dream gets pulled from the comfortable depths of sleep, his face buried halfway in George’s hair.

Some quick deduction tells him that the birds are most likely sitting in the tree right outside of the window, and that there is nothing he can do to fix it. Great.

George stirs in his arms. “Can they shut up?” He mumbles.

A smile makes its way onto Dream’s lips, despite his weariness.

“No,” he answers helpfully.

Somehow, each little tweet seems to be getting louder, more incessant, and Dream knows they need to move to a different room. They have slept a handful of hours at most.

“My room?” He offers, pressing a kiss to George’s shoulder. “Should be more quiet.”

George groans, rolling over and burrowing his face in the crook of Dream’s neck. It makes his skin buzz gently when George says, “Too far.”

It’s really not far at all but he decides not to go down that road now. They can talk technicalities about  the distances in this house when the day starts for real, not when the need for sleep is weighing so heavily on them both. On George especially, apparently.

Dream noses at his hair. “My office then. It’s closer.”

No response, but he feels George’s hand slide up his chest over his t-shirt.

“Come on, baby,” Dream coaxes, taking the hand and lifting it off of him as he starts to sit up.

George groans, but starts to do the same. At about half the pace. Dream smiles at him fondly.

You would think he was being forced to do the most laborious task on planet earth with how much effort it seems to take him to move from lying down in the comfy bed to standing upright on the floor. Dream can’t really blame him, though; it felt a little bit like being ripped from a nice dream for him, too.

“Alright, I love you, let’s go,” he says, heading for the door and pulling George along behind him by the hand. He looks tousled in the best way, all sleepy and annoyed.

The hallway and the stairs are mostly dark, still. The light is that weird shade of grayish blue, and he wonders fleetingly if George sees it the same way.

Downstairs, George lets out a small scoff. “Why’d you say I love you?” He asks, rubbing at his eye with his free hand. “So dumb.”

Dream smiles, pushing at his office door. “‘Cause I love you.”

George scoffs again, but he doesn’t say anything else, which says enough in itself. Inside, it’s pitch black, and quiet. Completely quiet.

He lets go of George’s hand and puts a hand on his back instead, guiding him onto the bed before climbing in after him. He has never been more grateful that he keeps this bed fully made.

They settle down in the exact same position from before, with Dream closest to the wall and George in his arms, pressed as close as he can get. For a few moments it’s just their breathing and their heartbeats slowing in the silence.

“Better?” Dream asks, his voice a murmur.

George hums in agreement. Then, just a softly, “Love you.”

Dream smiles into the darkness, closing his eyes. He listens to George’s breaths evening out, the soft sounds of skin against fabric every time they shift in the sheets they’re sharing. Holding him close like this, just existing in the boyish and familiar smell of his shampoo and day-old aftershave, Dream feels like he is already dreaming.

Sleep washes over him like a ray of sunlight.

[starlightkun]

sugarcoated brain [teaser]

⏯ teaser word count: 723 | full fic: 13.7k ⏯ genre: punk band frontman!shotaro, venue manager!reader, shotaro is whipped, reader is emotionally unavailable, is it a slowish burn or is it angst?, whatever it is ur reading a starlightkun fic so there’s a happy ending :), ft. eunseok/sungchan/wonbin as shotaro’s bandmates welcome back boys & wayv as reader’s coworkers ⏯ warnings: not necessarily a warning but since i do generally avoid describing the reader’s appearance in my fics, i wanted to give a heads up—reader works at a punk/alternative concert venue and is generally in/around that scene. reader is mentioned and/or implied to have some tattoos and piercings (other than earlobes) ⏯ extra info: set in the same universe as filler episodes, but u don’t need to read that in order to understand this one, filler eps!sungchan and sugarcoated!shotaro r just in the same band! also the title is from a 5sos song lol ⏯ estimated release: saturday, november 16, 2024 3:00 p.m. eastern time

“Is that sanitary?” Eunseok’s voice announced Roses for Eyes’ arrival that particular afternoon, as you sat atop the bar counter, scrolling on your phone in one of your few moments of peace and quiet around Venue:Hell.

“Kiss my ass, Eunseok,” you replied without even looking up.

“Yeah, I’ll get in line,” he retorted, making Sungchan and Wonbin laugh.

That finally prompted you to slide your gaze up, just in time to see the three of them laughing over by the stage as Shotaro flipped them all off over his shoulder, making his way towards you. He had two cups in one hand, one with a bright green straw in it, and the other without a straw, and you saw that the other three band members each had a plastic cup with a straw sticking out of them as well. You silently watched Shotaro approach, raising an eyebrow at him once he’d stopped in front of you.

“We were getting boba on our way here, and thought we’d grab you one, too.” His cheeks were a bright pink as he held the unopened cup out to you, and fished a packaged purple straw out from the front pocket of his black jean jacket.

“Who’s this ‘we’ that you’re talking about?” You asked humorously. “They all apparently think getting me boba is kissing my ass.”

Shotaro straightened up, puffing his chest out. “Actually, yeah. Fuck ‘em. I got you one because I thought it’d be nice to get you one too since you do so much for us every week. It’s uh-It’s honey milk tea, because I didn’t know what flavor you liked.”

“Thank you, Shotaro.” You accepted the cup and straw from him graciously, to a chorus of snickers from the spectators on the other side of the floor. “Honey milk tea is more than acceptable.”

“But it’s not your favorite?”

“I don’t have a favorite.” You set the cup on the bartop beside you to stab the straw into it.

“You—Hey, are those mine?” He seemed to have finally noticed the sunglasses perched atop your head.

“What? These?” You teased, tapping the plastic accessory arm on one side of your head.

“I was looking for those today!”

You took them off, offering them out towards him. “You left them here last week.”

Shotaro took the glasses just to turn them right back around, take a step closer to you, and place them back on your head, a fond smile on his face as he did so. “I think you look better in them, actually. You can hold onto them for a little longer.”

You swallowed, your chest suddenly feeling too tight for your heart, and six eyes suddenly feeling like way too many to be in the room with you two right now. You chuckled, trying to keep up the congenial tone as you once more pulled them off. This time, you folded the arms and tucked the sunglasses into Shotaro’s jacket pocket for him. “Thanks, Shotaro, but I can’t take your sunglasses. They’re really rockstar sunglasses anyway, not for someone like me.”

At that moment, you grabbed your boba tea and hopped off the bar, scooting out from between him and the counter. You avoided looking at the others, beelining for the back office.

When Shotaro had to come get his in-ears from you just a few minutes later, you gave him the same pleasant smile as usual, handing him the case. “Here you go.”

“Thanks.” He tapped the case against his palm, the sound dampened by the fingerless gloves he was wearing that day. “What did you mean? When you said someone like you.”

“Wh—About the sunglasses?” You’d hardly expected him to confront you about that comment at all, much less alone now, just you and him in the office, no peanut gallery. While six eyes had felt like too many, this felt far too intimate. You somehow felt more exposed than before. “Like I said—They’re cool rockstar sunglasses, that’s what you are. You should wear them you know, up on stage, being all cool and stuff. I’m crew; no point in me wearing them while I’m sitting back here where nobody can see them.”

He frowned, but thankfully didn’t try to give them to you again. “I think you’re cool, Y/N.”

With that, he left the office.

⤷ masterlist

[elegantlyeva]

Hey! I loved the story! Thank you so much! I hope it isn’t too soon to request again and if it is please ignore! I was wondering what those days in the hospital was like with Scott? How did he get hurt? Did he not like (actually loved it) having her fuss over him? Don’t worry about not getting to it right away. I truly just appreciate you even giving it a thought! Thank you!

A while 

a/n: Thank for the request bb <3 This is like weeks overdue, but I’m finally done with midterms so to the others who requested I'm getting through everything right now!

Word Count: 1.1K

The hospital smell flooded your senses as you walked through the doors. 

The call you got from Kate, of all people, was not something you expected. You liked the girl, sure. She was nice and had separated you and your boyfriend. It was weird having her call your phone, though. You hadn’t even been sure she had your number.

She barely got five words out before you hung up and started to drive.

Apparently, Javi and Scott had gotten into a little mishap after underestimating how close the tornado was going to get.

You packed Scott a bag, knowing he was a bit germ-crazy, adding some clothes, his toothbrush, and some other night things, assuming he’d have to stay the night.

Maybe it was a little premature. You knew he had been taken in the ambulance—Kate had said he was conscious but also looking concussed. Still, even if he wasn’t staying the night, he’d probably want to change.

Walking through the hospital hallway after lying to the secretary about being Scott’s wife—since only family was allowed—you popped your head into Javi’s room next door. Tyler and Kate were sitting in the visiting chairs.

Tyler smiled, waving you over, but you shook your head. “Sorry. I’ll come back. I’m going to check on Scott. Just wanted to make sure Javi was fine.”

Javi laughed, knowing damn well you weren’t coming back after seeing Scott.

His door was closed, so you knocked softly, but there was no answer. Assuming he was asleep, you opened the door anyway and headed in.

The sound of voices filled the room, and you mentally face-palmed when you heard Scott arguing.

“I’m fine. Get this shit off me.” Heading fully inside, you saw that the "thing" he wanted off was an arm cast. No one had seen you yet.

“Sir, we’re trying to set your arm back in place. If you don’t have the cast, you’ll move it too much. The bones will heal on their own, but they need support, and if you’re moving it and banging it into things, it’s never going to heal.” You could hear the doctor’s exasperated voice, so you cleared your throat and made your way over.

The frustrated expression on Scott’s face softened when he saw you but didn’t disappear. He let the corners of his mouth tip up and moved out his good arm to beckon you over. With no objections, you quickly made it to his side, hugging him awkwardly so as not to hurt his bad arm. 

“What took you so long?” There was a bit of a whine in his voice, not that he’d ever admit it.

“What do you mean, what took me so long? Kate was the one who called me!” you said, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“My phone got crushed. And I would’ve called you myself from Javi’s phone, but these doctors are insistent on me not using my arms,” he said, narrowing his eyes at the poor nurse.

“Arm, sir. One. The other is alright. I mean, you should take it easy. You still have a couple of bruises, but you’re fine overall.” Scott scowled, letting his head fall on your abdomen while the nurse left with a sigh.

You smiled softly as he moved over so you could sit on the bed next to him. “I told the secretary we were married,” you said, assuming it would get a smile out of him.

And it did. “Yeah? Where’s the ring?” he asked, picking up your hand.

“I should be asking you that,” you said, and he rolled his eyes, putting an arm around your shoulder to bring your head to rest on his chest. “Give me a few months.”

You had only been teasing anyway. “So, why are you giving these poor nurses trouble for doing their jobs?”

“I need both my arms. Both. How am I supposed to get anything done with only one? I’ll be half as fast and more of a liability than anything, and—” You cut him off by pressing your lips to his, and he sighed softly.

When you pulled away, you looked at his food tray before actually speaking up. “You okay? It’s not the best news to get when you’re driving home from work, hearing your boyfriend is being taken to the hospital.”

Scott groaned, letting his head fall back onto the bed. “I’m fine, really. Don’t sweat it. It was a stupid miscalculation. All of this could’ve easily been avoidable if we hadn’t been moving so slow. Javi said we had more time. I thought we had more time.”

You didn’t say anything right away, knowing he needed to take a few breaths when he got like this. “I’m fine, though. Sorry. Are you okay? I didn’t mean to scare you. I swear I would’ve called, but my phone got crushed with the back of the truck.”

You shook your head. “Don’t worry. I was only messing around earlier. I’m glad you’re okay.”

He sighed, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head, and shook his head. “A sweatshirt would be great. S’fucking cold in here,” he mumbled, and your ears perked up.

“I brought you a bag. That’s what took me so long,” you said excitedly, happy you could give him that. He squeezed your waist with his good hand.

“This is why I love you,” he mumbled into your hair. You side-eyed him a bit.

“That’s it?” you asked, and he rolled his eyes, holding out his hand for the sweatshirt and toothbrush. You snorted, handing him both, and after a struggle to get the sweatshirt over his head and helping him to the bathroom despite his dizziness, he settled himself against the hospital bed.

“I took off from work,” you mumbled, letting your hand brush through his dark hair. He glared at your words.

“Why would you do that? I’m fine,” he grumbled, attempting to roll his eyes, but it worsened the pounding in his head. You laughed, mumbling something about karma, and he pinched your side.

“We can just stay home for a couple days. I don’t trust you to actually stay home without anyone watching you.” He went to protest but was cut off when you gave him a disapproving look.

“Fine,” he said, looking like he was going to say more but glaring at something behind you. “What do you want, Owens?” You turned around to find Tyler leaning on the doorway.

“Relax. I’m not here for you. Your girlfriend said she’d come back to hang out with us in Javi’s room once she was done checking on you,” he said, smirking at Scott’s scowl.

“She will not be hanging out anywhere near you. She’ll get a worse headache than mine if she’s around your obnoxious ass.”

You rolled your eyes. This would go on for a while.