#but then he goes 'oh. never mind.' and shuffles off. but like HUH

[batemanofficial]

what is it about target that attracts the men with the fewest active neurons this side of the mississippi

[cinnbar-bun]

Trading Cards- Cross Guild's Day Off 1 (Cross Guild x Reader)

Summary: In which you work with the three Cross Guild officers and stumble across a new trading card game to introduce to them. Hilarity ensues.

Rating: SFW/Crack

Word Count: 1.8k

Notes: No relationships are defined, so feel free to headcanon whatever you want. I know it says x Reader up there and I wrote it in mind that it's a weird ass polycule but I made sure to leave it ambiguous for your reading pleasure. Reader is GN and gets Gumshoe'd, while Mihawk gains a gambling addiction. Minor swearing and violence (but funny).

A/n: Yes I collect the trading cards and I'll be damned if I don't put these three men through hell for funsies in this series (guess what's gonna happen next time).

"What's with all those boxes?” Buggy rubs his red nose as he twirls a knife in hand as you walk into the office. 

“You’ll never believe this! Apparently, someone’s been selling trading cards of famous pirates and marines! It’s a crazy new thing!” You happily plop the boxes on your desk. “And so, I managed to nab a few boxes!” 

Crocodile lowers the newspaper he’s reading to reveal his agitated face. “With whose money?” 

“Oh, that’s no biggie,” you wave off. 

“I’m docking your next paycheck,” Crocodile states as he goes back to reading. Mihawk raises a brow. 

“I have to ask, can they really just sell cards of us like that?” The swordsman questions. “Besides, what makes cards like that so interesting? Isn’t this simply a child’s collection?” 

“That’s what you think! But apparently, there are some secret rare cards everyone’s been dying to get their hands on!” 

You get a dark blue box and marvel at it. 

“Hey, why the hell is that Straw Hat on it?!” Buggy screams. “He’s a nobody! Who the hell wants a card of him?!” 

“Don’t worry, there’s cards of you, I think,” you respond, and Buggy gasps before lunging for the box. “Where?!” 

“I think it’s in one of them,” you point to the many boxes, and Buggy huffs. 

“Well hurry up and get to them!” 

“Don’t you guys wanna open them? They’re meant to be played in fun games,” you ask. “Here, I’ll separate them by fours, and everyone gets to make a new deck!” 

“I have no desire to-” Crocodile begins as you drop the card packets on his desk. 

“This is a strange form of games, but my interest is slightly piqued. I’ll take some,” Mihawk says, extending his hand. Buggy pouts as he’s the last to get them. 

“Now, open!” You yell, while you and the Cross Guild leaders begin to open the card packets. Buggy is tearing through them, shuffling through the cards manically. 

“HUH?! ALVIDA?!” He screams. “That’s not fair! How is she in this?!” 

He gets more frustrated as he opens the remaining packets. “They all say ‘C’ on them!” 

“They’re all common then,” you explain. Buggy lets out a sob at his bad luck. Mihawk and Crocodile ignore Buggy’s wails before Mihawk clears his throat. 

“I’m not asking for any particular reason, but since this is supposed to contain the most famous pirates, does that mean Red-Haired Shanks is a part of this?” Mihawk asks, a curious tinge in his voice. 

“I believe he is in here,” you nod. At your confirmation, Mihawk glares at the cards in his hands and tears them up. 

“C. C. C. C. SR. SR. C. C. R. R. C. UC,” Mihawk reads aloud his card rarities as he opens the pack. 

“Woah, who’re the SR’s?” You ask before Mihawk tosses the cards to the floor and opens another pack. 

“C. C. C. C. C. R. R. UC. UC. R. C. C.” 

“Mihawk, are you-” 

“C. C. C. C. C. C. C. UC. UC. R. C. L.” 

“Holy shit,” Buggy stares in awe as Mihawk’s hands move faster and his eyes frantically roam over the cards. 

“C. C. C. C. C. C. C. R. R. UC. C. L.” 

Crocodile rolls his eyes as Mihawk eventually covers his face with his hands, the non-Shanks having pile of cards a mess on the floor.

“What do you have?” The hooked man asks you. 

“Let’s see…” you open some packets and shrug at the some of the common cards, before you smile at an SR card. “I got you!” 

You proudly show off your new SR rarity Crocodile card. Crocodile motions you to step closer and gazes at the card. “Huh. That’s interesting. I better be strong.” 

“Maybe. I mean, it is an SR, and that’s pretty good!” 

“Why the hell are you an SR?! That’s bullshit! You got your ass handed to you by Straw Hat-” 

Crocodile immediately silences Buggy by pressing his hook onto the clown’s throat. “Want to finish that?” 

“N-no-” 

You continue to hum as you go through more cards. “Oh, Boa Hancock!” You squeal. “She’s so cool!” 

“Not as cool as us…” Buggy whines. Mihawk is still despondent on the couch. 

“Woah, I got Mihawk, too!” You gasp as a very cool card of Mihawk sitting on his throne is in your hands. 

“Okay, now that’s complete and utter crap! These two get in, but I don’t?! What the hell! I should burn these guys!” 

“How did they find out how my outfit and room looked like…” Mihawk mumbled as his face scrunched up. 

“You guys are getting so worked up over some silly cards,” Crocodile clicks his tongue as his cigar hangs from his lips. 

“Easy for you to say! You at least have a card in here!” Buggy whines. “This is so stupid! (Y/n), give me the other boxes, now!” 

“Hey, don’t grab them!” You swat your hands at the clown. “Crocodile still has to open his.” 

“I don’t care about him! I want to find me!” Buggy grabs the first box you opened and notices a pamphlet. 

“Huh? ‘Get your starter packs to begin playing’?” Buggy squinted as he went through the listed starter packs. “Let’s see… Straw Hat, that red-head-” 

“Shanks?!” Mihawk jumps. 

“Not that red-head,” Buggy interjects, and Mihawk sighs. “Kaido, Big Mom, Crocodi- wait a damn minute! How are you the face of one of the starter packs?” 

“I am?” Crocodile blows a puff of smoke. 

“Yeah! ‘Seven Warlords of the Sea’ starter pack! You jerk! Why is it you?!” Buggy screams angrily as Crocodile chuckles and twirls his cigar in his fingers. 

“Well, I am the obvious choice, aren’t I?” Crocodile strokes his chin. “I am strong, handsome, and far more intelligent and renown than the others. Why wouldn’t they put me on the cards?” 

“And humble,” you mutter. 

“Another dock to your paycheck,” Crocodile adds, the smile on his face returning to his usual humorless appearance. 

You slump your shoulders pitifully. “Crocodile, I can barely afford instant ramen at this rate.” 

“Aw, it’s okay, Buggy’s here for you,” Buggy chuckles as he pats your back, relieved he’s not at the receiving end of Mihawk and Crocodile’s torment. 

The four of you continue to open box after box of booster packs, with you mostly happy to just see the cool art, and Buggy hitting the floor in retaliation to his awful cards. 

“Nothing! Not even one of me! And they’re all commons!” 

“I really don’t know how that happened…” you pitifully look at him. 

“You making fun of my nose?!” Buggy screamed, looking up at you as his makeup smeared down his face due to his crying. 

“Oh…” you wince at the sorry state he’s in. “It’s okay, we can always-” 

“Shiny foil!” Mihawk shouts, making everyone in the room jump. “Is it finally-” 

He pulls out the card, only to scream in agony as he drops to his knees and lets the card fall through his fingers. 

You curiously pick up the card, only to see it’s sadly not Shanks, but someone called… “Sogeking”? 

“Who is this?” You stared at the card. 

“(Y/n),” Mihawk shakily fumbles through his pockets and pulls out a bag of berries. “I don’t care what it costs. Go. Buy more boxes.” 

He drops the bag in your hands and shields his eyes with a hand. Crocodile opens another packet and lets out a chilling laugh. 

“What’s so funny, Croc?” Buggy asks, nervously anticipating how badly things will go when Crocodile is laughing like that. 

“You’re looking for a card of Red-Hair, aren’t you?” Crocodile’s voice lowers, the smirk on his face widening. 

“No we’re not!” Mihawk and Buggy shout at the same time, making you and Mihawk raise a brow at Buggy’s admission. 

“Oh? So then it’s fine if I keep this card? Perhaps sell it even?” Crocodile holds up the card and everyone’s eyes are wide as you three gasp. 

In his hand, is the Secret rarity Shanks card. 

“You…” Mihawk says under his breath. 

“How the hell did…” Buggy’s eye twitches. 

“Woah… so lucky,” your eyes lighten. Crocodile’s chest rises with every laugh he lets out. 

“Since no one else wants it, I think I may just sell it and get back the money (Y/n) stole for this!” He proclaims. 

In an instant, Mihawk stands up and pulls out Yoru, pointing it at Crocodile. 

“Hand it over.” 

“You don’t get to make the demands here, Hawk Eyes,” Crocodile shakes his head. “What are you willing to offer?” 

“Give it, or I’ll kill you.” 

“Okaaay, well, there’s no need to kill each other-” you stand up, trying to get between the two men. 

“I’m not asking again, Crocodile,” Mihawk threatens. Buggy scowls and then jumps to his feet, pulling out his knives. 

“Yeah! We aren’t asking again! Hand it over!” Buggy yells, feeling confident with Mihawk’s strength at his side. 

Mihawk locks his gold eyes onto Buggy and Buggy cowers in fear. 

“N-never mind! Have it!” He surrenders. 

You nervously think of what to do before you rip up the last packet in the room and pray to whoever is listening for another Shanks. 

C. C. C. C. C. C. UC. UC. C. C. C. 

You gulp. There’s only one more card. This card can either save your life, or lead to a massacre from Mihawk. Your fingers reach in and pull out the last card, and you raise a brow at the shiny gold border. 

“What is this,” you murmur as you finally reveal the full card. 

A Secret rarity Shanks card. But unlike Crocodile’s card, yours is a stunning art piece of Shanks. With a gold border and a badass look in Shank’s eyes, you’re in awe. Even Buggy gasps at the sight. 

“M-Mihawk! We got you a Shanks!” You flail the card in your hand to draw his attention, and Mihawk swipes the card from you. 

“Don’t do that! You’ll ruin it!” He lectures you and stares at the card. “Incredible. I never knew this was in here.” 

He drops Yoru to the ground and presses the card to his chest, as if all the weight in the world was finally gone from him. Crocodile rolled his eyes and promptly threw his card to the ground in front of Buggy. 

“Come the hell on, (Y/n)! I was negotiating!” Crocodile sighs in frustration and rests his chin on his hand. “I’m not paying you at all this week!” 

You don’t even care anymore, crying tears of joy at the fact the sword that clattered on the ground beside you was not spearing your chest. 

“Since we all got decks now, why don’t we try and play the game?” You innocently suggest. You lay out the multipage rule guide and manual as the three men surround you to take a peek. 

Immediately after seeing the abundance of rules, all of you grimace and shake your heads. 

“Maybe another time.” 

“Yeah.” 

“That’s good.” 

“Great idea.” 

[ddejavvu]

ok so personally, Im usually so adverse to romantic interactions that even if I click on that someone is genuinely pursuing me, ill ignore it or pretend they arent. maybe a defence mechanism? idk BUT it does make for the most rabid situations and thoughts ever ever ever

imaging best friend!James and reader maybe getting into the situation in which they have to share a bed sometime. maybe its a group vacation or something. in my head - James potter is a serial humper in his sleep sometimes. hes a big guy in all aspects, and he also cant help but wanna cuddle with you to sleep!! but that also means he wakes himself up a couple times by grinding softly on u, and he feels so bad, but thankfully youve never woken up cus of it. separately, youve also learnt to not mention that you can quite clearly uh..feel him some mornings when ur both drowsy, pressed together n still groggy. and you, oh so conveniently also never mention that you kinda like how it feels. but, hey-ho.

its the middle of the night, and as usual, James is spooning you from behind, he has to be bent a little to fit his head in ur hair, and hes pressing his entire body against ur back. the air still smells of washed-off sunscreen and sea salt, and theres a fan going in the corner of the room. and this time James wakes up to YOU humping HIM. im talking, his breath hitches and everythingggg until he realises ur sleep. ur asleep and grinding back on him and ur breathing is all stuttered and he always guessed youd be a little quiet but ur little noises are so breathy and holy shit ur wet????? theres no way you get this wet.. until James realises that hes propped himself up on his arm and is just staring down at where ur moving ur hips on him and he tries to snap himself out of it by waking u up. ur still groggy but absolutely mortified when he tells you "yeah bug, you uh- y'got a little excited 'bout me in ur sleep, huh? s'okay yknow, its okay :]"

and he 100% offers to help you out. even when u say that friends arent suppose to do that, AND also mumbling about how guys normally didn't really make girls cum and mentioning abt how you always hear people say its too complicated, he just brings up how you just grinded on his lap in ur sleep, and that felt good, so, how can it not be allowed? its just a friend helping out a friend! :) and that he can definitely get u off, he'd be sooo good at it!! the only way this goes in my head is that not much shuffling around is done, all that changed is that ur on ur back now, and hes licking his bottom lip into his mouth as he looms over you slightly from ur side, his hands moving down and down. he'd definitely be tilting his head and "yeah, this part feels really good, yeah? yeah" all nodding and smiling n shit. 'best friend' James from that point on, takes any opportunity to 'help you out', he'd transition into using more than his fingers too. he was in love with you before this but now???? hes a goner.

babe thank u for blessing me with these cause i did NOT feel like writing today so i let you tell me a story and it was amazing <333

this post is 18+, minors dni.

james potter sleep slut is canon in my mind... just the way he wakes up with his big beefy arms wrapped around you while his hips move?? mhm. and he wakes up and is like ohshitohshitohshit but he doesn't wanna let go!!! so he just tries to dial himself back in, but he most likely needs a minute in the bathroom to compose himself </3

no but if you feel it in the morning.. you don't wanna point it out 'cause what if he says something like 'oh sorry i'm just really sensitive' or 'sometimes the wind makes it do that' LIKE NO. YOU WANNA KNOW IF IT'S REALLY BECAUSE OF YOU. so you just keep quiet, but in the early morning when he's sleepily begging for fivemoreminutes and isn't quite in tune with his body yet, you're definitely hyper aware of his hard on digging into your thigh or butt or hip or belly or whatever <3

when HE wakes up to YOU grinding on HIM he's mindblown.. he knows he likes you, he knows you're pretty, but he marvels at how amazing you look while dragging your hips back against his, like how could you look this amazing??

but he feels even worse watching you than he does accidentally doing it in his sleep, 'cause this isn't an accident!! he's not catching you in the act by mistake anymore, he's just watching you grind on him and getting all worked up about it, which in turn is only making him more hard. finally he decides to just wake you, smoothing your hair away from your face and kissing your cheek, murmuring your name softly until you finally rouse. and when you're blubbering sleepily at him 'why'd you wake me?' he just smiles like :] oh you were having a wet dream :] just wanted you to know :] and you're !!!!!!! WHAT !!!!!!!

you're instantly apologizing a million times but he's reassuring you like no no no!! it's okay bug, really!! happens to the best of us <3 but if you want some help w that i can help you!! i mean i've got the facilities, trust me. just say the word and we can make your dreams come true :]

you're just instantly terrified. you're shaking your head, sitting up like no, that's not what friends do. and- and it's hard! to make a girl- y'know... and he's like ?? no it's not ?? i promise i won't have a hard time with you bug.

so once you've suggested that he won't be able to do it.. he's gonna do it. he'd never ever force you to do anything against your will but the only excuses that you have are that friends don't do that (and they totally do!!! james is right now!!!!) and that it would probably be hard for him, and nothing about you not wanting it. so when he finally gets it out of you that yes you want it, but no he won't be able to help, he's gonna go to town. he begs for a chance to prove you wrong and you should have known with his super competitive nature that challenging him would be dumb, but i mean. worst case scenario he can't do it. you're already expecting that. why not??

so he tries, rubbing your pretty little clit and stroking over your folds before dipping between them, only a little upset that you're already wet because it means that he can't get you all worked up first, he can't kiss the slick out of you, he can't suck on your neck until you're wet, it's already there </3 but next time for sure, for now he's very excited about just being able to touch you

your cunt is warm and wet and everything he's ever dreamed of, but he's too nervous about overstepping to ask to eat you out, so he doesn't.. but in future, it's coming.

but he absolutely soaks in the moment, humming and cooing and crooning at you about how good it feels, asking you every time you whimper if it feels nice, if he's doing it right, if you think he'll be able to finish you off. and it's so intoxicating having him that close that you absolutely have to use all of your willpower to not kiss him while he hovers over you. he guides you through your orgasm and brings you down gently, absolutely the perfect lover, and he even asks if he can lick his fingers clean. he's like wouldn't think it was weird, would you, bug? I can clean 'em off? and when you nod he sucks them clean, humming at your taste and grinning giddily at you.

now you have a helper ! he will not leave u alone. bed sharing is a must now, and the more you sleep together, the more horny you are for him, and the more you wake up in the middle of the night, and the more he 'helps you out', and it is a cycle that you couldn't break if you tried, not that you'd ever want to.

[actuallysaiyan]

Call Me Mom!(Toshinori Yagi x Fem!Reader)

warnings: fluff, Izuku calling reader mom by accident, blood, mentions of having children, awkwardness word count: 1k pairings: Toshinori Yagi x Fem!Reader summary: When Izuku accidentally calls you mom one day, you decide to have a talk with Inko to clear things up. But she's more than happy to know her son has someone else to look up to and that supports him... a/n: dividers by @adornedwithlight

It all happened so fast. Within a blink of an eye really. 

“Thanks, mom!”

The words almost sounded like they came out of his mouth in slow motion. You looked over at young Midoriya, your eyes wide. Before any of you could say anything else, Toshinori is coughing up blood and excusing himself.

“Uh–no I mean thank you, sensei!”

But the words had already come out of Izuku’s mouth. Your heart was racing. Your mind was trying to catch up with everything else. Then you look down at the young man you were just helping with his equipment.

He’s blushing and muttering to himself, trying to make himself feel better about the blunder. You don’t even know what to say or how to react to make it all better. In fact, you’re muttering to yourself now, making Toshinori worry about the both of you. You feel a strong hand on your shoulder and when you turn to face your partner, you notice that he has such a soft smile on his face.

“It was an accident, dear. Right, young Midoriya?”

Midoriya nods his head, “Y-yeah!”

But this accident leads you to having dinner with the boy’s mom. His actual mother.

You fussed over what you’d wear. You were nearly tearing out your hair trying to look presentable. This was an important night after all.

Ever since you and Toshinori started dating, you have taken a liking to Izuku as well. How could you not? The boy was so charming, despite his neurotic and obsessive tendencies. Seeing him idolize your lover, you knew that Izuku was a genuinely kind person. And it didn’t take him long to become attached to you as well. That’s how you got into this mess anyway.

Toshinori is your rock in this situation. He rings the doorbell, a box of gourmet pastries shuffled in his hands. You try to smooth back your hair for the umpteenth time. You feel so nervous about this. You had never met Inko, but you heard lots of good things about her from both Izuku and Toshinori.

Izuku opens the door, his eyes alight with joy and idolization when he sees both you and Toshi in your best outfits. He invites you both in, guiding you to the dining room. You finally get a chance to see the home where Izuku grew up. 

Inko is standing at the counter, her own cheeks slightly pink. When her son set this dinner up, she wasn’t quite sure how to react. But she knew that it was important for you and her to finally meet. Especially since Izuku wouldn’t stop talking you up.

“Mom, they’re here!” Izuku calls. 

Inko gets a good look at you and she’s blushing even more. You aren’t sure how to react to any of this. Your hand clutches Toshi’s in a form of settling your already frazzled nerves. Inko turns to Midoriya, leaning in to whisper in his ear.

“ Izuku, you didn’t say she was so young! And you tell me they are dating?! ”

Her words cause your lover to cough up blood. You’re so quick to pull a handkerchief from your purse and you wipe the blood away. When Inko sees how tender you are with the older man, it’s obvious to her how much you love him.

Despite the little setback, dinner goes off without a hitch. You and Inko actually find you have much in common. And you even help her with the dishes afterwards. When Izuku leads Toshinori into his room, this gives you and her a moment to actually talk.

“I can see why you two are together,” she says as she hands you a plate to dry. “Toshinori-san is very taken with you.”

You blush and nearly drop the plate. “Huh?! Oh…we met through this job. When he started teaching, I found myself wanting to help him out.”

Inko laughs, “Izuku told me you were sweet. I’m glad I get to see this.”

You want to tell her about what happened the other day. You nervously look around before you turn to face her. Her eyes widen a little at your now serious face. Then she’s growing worried when you begin to cry.

“Inko-sama. I’m so so sorry! Izuku called me mom by accident the other day! I didn’t want to make this awkward and now I’ve gone and ruined everything! I’m so sorry.”

When you begin bowing to her, she knows she needs to stop you. With a motherly touch, she places her hand on your shoulder. Immediately you find yourself calming down. You sniffle softly, looking at her curiously.

“It’s fine. Really, it is. Please don’t apologize.” Inko smiles. “I’m so happy my son has someone else to look up to. And it’s only natural that he would see you that way.”

You cock your head to the side. “What do you mean?”

“He doesn’t see me as often as he used to. Me and Izuku used to do everything together. I know that he’s growing up and becoming stronger, but he needs someone to watch over him in a motherly way. And I’m glad it’s you.”

She pulls you into her arms, rubbing your back soothingly. You begin to feel so much warmth radiating from her. Inko was a very good mother, but there was something even more there that you couldn’t put your finger on. Izuku was a lucky boy to have her.

“Thank you. Inko-sama.”

She laughs., “No need to be so formal. Inko is fine.”

The two of you return to your task. Then she turns to you and smirks.

“So, I suppose this means you and Toshinori will be having children of your own soon?”

The question causes you to drop a plate this time. You turn to watch as your husband coughs up blood for the second time this evening, his eyes wide. Izuku and Inko look at each other and laugh.

“What’s so funny?! How can you laugh at a time like this?!” You ask, trying to pick up the pieces of the broken plate.

Izuku smirks. “Because you both had the same look on your face!”

Inko and Izuku both imitate you and Toshinori, leaving you and your partner just a little speechless. Then he takes your hand in his, smiling at you. Then he looks at Izuku.

“That would make you a big brother, wouldn’t it, young Midoriya?”

Izuku’s eyes widen and his cheeks burn. Toshinori gets the last laugh tonight.

reblogs and comments always appreciated!

©actuallysaiyan 2024– do not repost on other platforms, copy, translate or edit my works!

[msbigredmachine]

New To This - Chapter 5

MASTERLIST

“Sup, trick,” a soft voice chuckled next to Delilah, and she turned to see Tiwa, her co-worker at the supermarket, presenting her a can of Mountain Dew and a bowl of jollof rice and stewed chicken as she joined her to sit on the staircase outside on their lunch break. “Want some?”

Delilah grimaced and bit into her carrot stick for emphasis. “You know I can’t have that. I’m workin’ out and shit.”

“Oh yeah, I keep forgetting about your wrestling. Shoulda brought you a salad or somethin’,” Tiwa joked, causing Delilah to roll her eyes good-naturedly. The two women had known each other since high school and had run in different social circles back then, but working together for the past four years had closed that gap between them.

“So, how’s wedding planning going? You still got time for that with your wrestling and all?” Tiwa asked as she threw her braids behind her shoulder.

“It’s going,” Delilah shrugged, staring out into the empty backlot of the supermarket. “My Mama’s making sure it’s going, anyway. We’ve put a deposit on the reception hall, but haven’t decided on the catering. I haven’t even thought about a dress yet. Luckily I got my mom’s wedding dress to fall back on if everything else goes to shit.”

“You sound bored outta your fuckin’ mind,” Tiwa pointed out, raising an eyebrow. “I’ve never heard any woman sound this uninterested about planning her own wedding.”

“It’s not boredom. I’m just…tired,” Delilah insisted, shuffling her feet on the step she sat on. “Training and working two jobs hasn’t given me much time to think of anything else.”

“What about your man? Is he going to Panama City with you for the show? I mean, that’s gotta be exciting, right?”

“For me? Absolutely,” she responded, turning her face toward the sun. “The networking opportunities are beyond my wildest dreams. For him? Not really. He’s never been a wrestling fan. And he still thinks I’m outta my mind,” she added with a roll of her eyes. In reality, she knew that half the town thought the same way, but she never let it deter her. What she wanted to do with her life was no one’s fucking business.

Tiwa nodded in what seemed like understanding and chewed her food slowly. “That bad, huh?”

“Yeah, that bad. He’s not cooperating at all.” Delilah huffed, feeling her blood begin to boil already. “First off, he refused to come to my first match. My very first match! He bitches about my training schedule all the fuckin’ time now. What is scaring him so much?”

“Gee, where do I start?” Tiwa snorted.

Delilah looked back at her co-worker, startled by her response. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Come on, girl. Look at it. Y’all supposed to be getting married soon and then your wrestling picks up. I saw your match on YouTube and it’s already at like a hundred thousand views. That’s a fuckin’ big deal, ya know? Not to mention you’re spending time with that steaming hot Jey guy that just might end up being your co-worker. And from all the buzz you’re getting, it’s only gonna be a matter of time before that happens. That’s gotta make Andre uncomfortable.”

She didn’t know her match had made it onto YouTube, but she would get back to that later. “You’re supposed to be on my side.”

“I am. And I’m happy for you. This town is boring as fuck. Someone needs to get outta this dump and do something interesting with their lives.” Tiwa took a swig of her Mountain Dew. “So back to you and this Jey dude. He seems to be giving you a lot of attention.”

“Y’all making it sound like me and him are seeing each other every day or somethin’,” said Delilah, her tone a little gruffer than she wanted. “That ain’t the case. Jey’s been like a second coach, like Tank. I want to make it to the big time, and if Jey can help me get there, I’ll take it.”

“You sure he hasn’t hinted at something more? Like, you know…”

Delilah shook her head. “Nope. We only talk about wrestling, that’s it. He’s been very professional.”

“Or he’s just waiting to get you alone,” Tiwa cut in. “Maybe that’s why he invited you to Panama City.”

“He invited both Dre and me. I won’t be alone. Tank’s coming along with me since Dre can’t make it.” She wasn’t sure what Tiwa was trying to insinuate, and though she didn’t like it, she tried not to show it. “Girl you trippin’. Relax. I’m getting married to the man I love. Jey’s already married, I think.”

“You think?” Tiwa repeated, and only then did it dawn on Delilah that she’d never seen a ring on his finger. Still… “He knows better and so do I. I got only one goal in mind, and that’s all I care about.” It had been two weeks since her first match, and she was just getting started with building a reputation for herself within the independent circuit. She was working hard and earning every bit of respect she was gaining, and she really didn’t want to throw all of that away.

“Okay,” said Tiwa. “I’m just looking out for you, girl. Do you, and make sure you’re happy while you’re doing it.”

“I know.” Delilah smiled and looked at her watch. Their break was almost over. “You coulda come with me to Panama City too, ya know.”

“Ha, if I do, who’s gonna cover your shift?” Tiwa said, getting to her feet. “Besides…I got a date on Monday night.”

“Oh. So you’ve finally gotten over your crush on Tank, then?” Delilah smirked as they walked back into the supermarket.

Tiwa gasped and avoided her friend’s teasing stare. “How many times am I gonna tell you, Parrish, it ain’t like that with Tank! It never was.”

“And yet, you’re blushing.”

“…..Bitch, bye.”

—------------------

From her place on the ring apron, Delilah watched in complete awe as Liv Morgan and Becky Lynch practiced in the ring for their match, still a good three hours before Monday Night Raw was set to air. The women were opening the show tonight, and she was very excited to see how it all played out. But watching them rehearse was so much better than anything she could have imagined.

The only thing that would have made her day better was Andre being with her. Of course, they had argued about the trip, in which Tank had tried to step in. He was being completely asinine and paranoid. She would never have stopped him if he had the chance to meet LeBron James or Patrick Mahomes, his favorite athletes. This was a once in a lifetime chance for her, and she really couldn’t understand why he was taking all of this so poorly.

“Now that’s a finisher right there,” Tank interrupted her thoughts as Liv Morgan hit Becky backwards in her signature Oblivion to get the pinfall.

Delilah turned back to look up at the huge Titantron as Liv’s theme song rang out in victory. “This is so cool,” she whispered. How amazing would it be to see her own name in lights that bright?

“Ayyy, look who showed up, uce,” a familiar deep voice sounded from the shadows behind her, and she looked over to see Josh making his way down the ramp. 

Without thinking through it, she rushed towards him and leapt into his arms. “This is so amazing! Thank you so much, oh my god,” she squealed happily, not caring if she sounded like a total fan girl at the moment. Never did she imagine she could ever experience all she had since coming down to Panama City; the backstage access, getting to meet the amazing wrestlers she watched on TV every single week; it was sensory overload for her as a fan.

Josh laughed as her legs tightened around him, supporting the woman in his arms with her round backside in his hands. “You welcome, baby girl. You enjoyin’ yourself?”

It was then, as he set her back on her feet, that Delilah noticed how good he looked in his Nike tech fleece outfit. At the same time, Tank appeared from the corner of her eye, and she quickly took a step back from Josh. “Yes! Everyone’s been so nice. The wrestlers, the officials, it’s been awesome.”

“Good to hear. Wanna go talk to the girls?” Without waiting for an answer, Josh grabbed her by the hand and tugged her toward the ring where Becky and Liv now sat on the apron. They looked over at the approaching trio and waved. “Hey, Jey, hey Tank,” greeted Liv, her eyes skating over Delilah’s form. “Wanna introduce us to your friend?”

Sneaking behind her, Josh shoved the shy woman closer to his colleagues. “This is Delilah Parrish. She’s an indie wrestler in the Pensacola region,” he introduced.

“Oh, fellow hometown girl, huh?” Becky’s friendly nature was infectious as she extended a hand toward the new woman. “Nice to meet you, Delilah. I’m Becky.”

“Delilah. Like Samson, right?” Liv inquired. When Delilah nodded, her smile widened. “Such a cute name. I like it. You stickin’ around for the show tonight?”

“Yeah.” Delilah muttered shyly. It was the exact same tone she had taken with pretty much everyone she had met so far. It was all so overwhelming, she felt like she was in a dream.

“Ay Livvy Liv, you busy?” Josh asked. When she shook her head, he nodded toward Delilah. “How ‘bout you show our guest here how it’s done in the big leagues?”

Liv set her towel aside with a shrug. “Sure, why not?” she answered, turning her gaze to Delilah. “You up for it?”

Shocked, the trainee looked back and forth between them. “Wait, you want me to wrestle her? Right now?” 

“Now’s as good a time as any,” Josh shrugged, raising an eyebrow. “Unless you think you can’t do it.”

Offended, her eyes darkened right away. “Hell yeah, I can do it.”

He stepped closer to her, staring her right down, “Then show me,” he whispered.

Liv leapt back into the ring and backed up, beckoning for Delilah to join her. “Come on, show me what’cha got,” she challenged.

Before she knew what was happening, Delilah was locking up with Liv freaking Morgan in the middle of the ring, listening for her rushed verbal cues as they sparred like old partners. So immersed was she in the match they were constructing, Delilah didn’t notice that Josh and Tank had been joined by a few other men.

“Who’s the girl?”

Turning his head slightly, Josh took his boss’s hand in a handshake and then returned his attention to the action in the ring. “She’s one of Tank’s,” the Samoan spoke of the trainer who was now shouting instructions to his pupil from outside the ring, while Becky cheered on Liv on the other side.

Triple H watched with a critical eye as the new woman launched herself off of the ropes and knocked Liv to the mat with an impressive, albeit stiff clothesline. “She’s unpolished,” he deduced.

Josh shrugged. “She’ll get better,” he assured the older man. “Her very first match was just two weeks ago and she killed that shit, man. Two hundred thousand views on YouTube already,” he added, a hint of admiration creeping into his voice.

“I see.” The multi-time World Champion nodded his head, his gaze still fixed on the story the women were trying to tell in the ring.

As Liv wedged her horizontally between the ropes by the turnbuckle, Delilah glanced to her left, her heart nearly jumping into her throat when she saw Triple H of all people, watching intently a few feet away, as though waiting for her to do something special. She was so distracted that she didn’t hear Liv’s reminder to brace herself for the impact of her double-knee attack. Liv’s knees and shins colliding with her sternum knocked the air right out of her, causing her to collapse hard in the corner, limbs twisting everywhere as she hit the canvas.

“Shit, I’m sorry!” Liv screeched, as Delilah rolled to her side and slowly made her way to her knees with a moan. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. It was my fault,” she puffed, taking the other woman’s extended hand to pull her up.

“Yeah, Triple H has that kind of effect,” Liv said, winking at her. “I was the exact same way the first time I saw him.”

Risking another glance at the base of the ramp, Delilah breathed a sigh of relief when she realized that Hunter had left them alone, but dread quickly filled her insides as she wondered what he’d thought of her performance.

“What the hell was that?” Josh’s laughing voice interrupted the ladies’ conversation. Delilah blushed wildly and ducked under the bottom rope. “I panicked,” she admitted softly. “So tell me the truth,” she said. “How bad did I fuck up my only chance to impress that man?”

Josh helped her out of the ring and set her down on her feet. “You tried. Let’s just leave it at that.” Her nervous expression caused him to wrap an arm around her waist for a quick hug. “But ay, you went for it, and Hunter appreciates that,” he whispered.

The feel of his breath on her ear sent shivers down Delilah’s spine. She shook it off quickly, deciding that she was still being a fangirl, that it was just his breathtaking presence that still affected her. She would have felt the exact same way if it had been Andre holding her like this.

Mistaking her inner turmoil for something else, Tank nudged her from her other side. “You did good, kid. I could tell Hunter liked it,” he said.

The uncharacteristic compliment from her usually no-nonsense teacher caused Delilah to blush, but before she could respond, a stage hand called for Tank to follow him up the ramp, leaving her all alone with Josh. She felt very self-conscious as she walked next to him towards the backstage area.

Somewhere along the way, Josh had invaded Delilah’s thoughts and fantasies on more than a few occasions. Never, since getting with Andre, had she ever thought about another man while making love to her fiancé, until lately. She wanted to blame it on seeing him every week on TV, recalling his deep, seductive voice on the phone, all of which left her imagining things she never dreamed of. Yeah, he seemed to be a bit touchy feely, but he had never made an outright pass at her, and had done nothing beyond a few flirty words and gestures. Maybe she was overthinking it too much and just needed to relax.

Josh looked down at her, trying not to stare into her tank top from his considerable vantage point. She was engaged to be married, but he couldn’t seem able to tell himself that it meant she was off limits. He was drawn to how unaware she was of her beauty and her sexiness, and it made her that much more attractive in his eyes. “You quiet. What’s on your mind?” he asked her, forcing himself out of his wayward thoughts.

Delilah followed him into a huge locker room. “Just thinkin’ about how surreal all of this is. It’s one thing to see it on TV. It’s a whole ‘nother thing to see it all up close…” she trailed off, shaking her head in awe.

Grabbing two bottles of water, Josh directed her to a table and sat across from her, opening her bottle before sliding it to her. “Yeah. Wait until you become an actual employee.”

Scoffing, she drank from the bottle and leaned back in her chair. “Right. Like that’s gonna happen.”

“What makes you think that?”

With a sigh, she looked around the empty room. “I don’t know. For all intents and purposes, I’m still a rookie,” she reasoned. “I got so much more to learn. I don’t even look like the typical WWE Superstar. My hair’s too damn big and curly. I haven’t put on enough muscle yet.” Casting a glance over her own body, she sighed again. “And I’m gonna need implants, which I definitely can’t afford,” she added.

Josh looked her over, zeroing in on her chest. After seeing her in her wrestling outfit a couple of weeks ago, he was convinced there was nothing wrong with her hot body. “You don’t need no implants,” he assured her.

Shock washed over Delilah at his blatant assessment. “Okay, um, so where else are we going after this?” she asked nervously, hoping to break the suffocating tension building between them.

“Whatchu doin’, Delilah?” Josh ignored her question, watching her brush her hair out of her face for the hundredth time, the glint of the rock on her engagement ring seemingly taunting him every time she did so. “What exactly are you puttin’ in all the hours training and wrestling for? To achieve your dream? Or to get away from your fiancé?”

Recoiling a little, Delilah narrowed her eyes at what he had asked. Why was he being so intrusive? “Dude…” she stammered, her defenses going right up. "I’m not…I’m not sure how that’s any of your business.”

“Baby girl, this business is everything to me,” Josh said to her, his tone strangely serious. “It’s my whole life. And I get a kick out of seeing other people who love it too and get immersed in it for all the right reasons.” Shaking his head, he crossed his massive arms over his broad chest. “I need to know which side you’re on, so I’ll know whether I’m wasting my time with you or not.”

“Wasting your time? What the fuck…I never asked for your attention, Josh!” she shot defensively, staggered by this sudden change to their conversation. "To be honest, I don’t even know why you are showing any interest in me.” Behind her, she heard the door open, and she forced herself to lower her voice, even though she was seething at his audacity. “Maybe I should ask you. What’s in this for you, huh? Why me? There are a million other new wrestlers that you could be focusing on.“

Shrugging a shoulder in agreement, Josh leaned back in his chair and let his dark gaze scan her from head to toe. "Maybe,” he conceded, a smirk playing on his lips. “But it’s not them I wanna fuck.”

The words struck her like a blow to the gut. Did she hear him right? Was he suggesting that he wanted to sleep with her? That he was as attracted to her as she was to him? Did he fantasize about her too? Did he forget she was engaged? Wasn’t he married? How could he make such an open confession?

Before she could say something, the room began to fill up with members of the Raw roster, Josh stood up and gestured for her to do the same. “Come on. Let’s go find Tank,”  he said to her.

--------------

Thoughts?

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[fishiefishieluvr]

hiya! this is my first contribution to the fandom… i used inspiration from the song daddy was a sailor by marina diamandis. if you wanna give it a listen, here is a link! i recommend listening during the read! the reader’s backstory is entirely based off this song… well. at least waaaayyyy in the past.

i used myself a bit for inspiration because i have a sea creature tattoo t_t

there’s no warnings aside from slight angst and mentions of brief injuries. rafayel continues being a shithead in the fic… i wanted to depict his lemurian form accurately so i tried to utilize good interpretations of mermen and mermaids lmao. this is just a mere interpretation of what could’ve happened! afab reader so she/her pronouns!

word count: 2.3k

🪸

would she, could she, be home when the stars came out to party?

His fuschia gaze darts to her petite, bony shoulders. Wearing a t-shirt in 90 degree weather… What is wrong with this woman… And thus, he feels compelled to point it out. Rafayel was never one to bite his tongue. He’ll state what needs to be said, regardless of what it pertains to.

“Aren’t you brave, huh? Wearing a t-shirt, risking the idea of getting a farmer’s tan…” He clicks his tongue and smirks as he sees the glare etched into her eyes.

Y/N playfully sticks her tongue out, rolling her eyes. Her fingers tug at the hem of her thin shirt, yanking it off of her form. A tight charcoal hued bikini hugs her features.

Almost immediately, Rafayel’s gaze flitters over the curvature of her waist — right over the tattooed flesh. His jaw goes slack when he sees precisely what it is. A seahorse, an inadequately drawn one, at that.

His head pangs as his jaw is clenched tightly. As much as he wants to desperately think that now is not the time to reminisce, the memory still is etched into his mind.

🐠

The morning rays of sun were tortuous on Rafayel’s scales, drying out the cool flickers of fuschia pink and turquoise blue. Webbed hands curled around the sand, wincing as the burning sand sizzled into his scaled skin. His gaze travels down, eyes widening as he peers at the new burn wounds. Rafayel doesn’t want to call out for help, as his heartbeat is pounding in his ears at the mere idea of entrusting a human to help him return to the seas.

But it’s futile. The Lumerian boy will certainly perish if his wounds persist without aid.

So, he swallows his pride. His jaw is clenched tightly, the pang of his wounds and dried out scales aches throughout his entire body.

“Heeeeh…” Rafayel shakes his head. God, that was a pathetic sound, his voice cracking as he called out hoarsely. “Help, please..” It’s a quiet plea, hardly even audible.

His vision is fading in and out, only seeing the blurriness of the sand and the sunlight shimmering down onto the beach. The Lemurian boy hardly even notices the approaching silhouette.

“Oh my goodness! Are you a-alright?” It’s a feminine voice. He can hardly even see straight, but he feels the sensation of… Softness beneath him. A guttural groan slips past his cracked lips.

Rafayel hears the noises of shuffling, then nails… Tapping along something metallic? Before he even knows it, the cool metal is brought to his lips, water spilling down his throat. It feels… Peculiar, this isn’t the same water of the sea. The lack of saltiness sends a shiver down his spine. Then, the freezing water hits his tail and abdomen. He harshly flinches and winces.

That’s when his vision returns to normal, his head cradling upwards. His fuschia and sea blue eyes widened. It’s… A human. Not like any of the other humans he’s seen. Her shimmering (hair color) hair shines beautifully underneath the morning sun, lips parted revealing the loss of her front tooth. She has to be around his age, young… No older than 11 years of age. And, that’s not even the worst part… His head is cradled upon her thighs.

The Lemurian boy sharply pries himself away, stumbling back as his tail flips around with the movement. Humans aren’t to be trusted, not after the torture they thrusted upon Lemurians. He’s heard all different types of horror stories from his people…

He holds up his injured webbed hand, his claws out and ready if needed. “Get… Away from me. You’re a human. I won’t accept your help. Your kind slaughters my people mercilessly. How am I to expect you to be any different?”

The girl’s eyes widen, her features shifting into an expression of brief panic. Her hands wildly flail in the air. “I-I don’t want to hurt you! I.. Need to wrap that, uh… Hand of yours. You have to trust me. Please, I’ll do anything for you to believe me..” Her shoulders sink, a frown creasing upon her lips.

Rafayel’s eyes narrowed into slits. As much as he wants to believe her… The things he’s heard echoes throughout his mind. He shakes his head, his lilac tresses slightly swaying. “Swear it.” It comes out as a hiss, face contorting into one of firm seriousness.

“I swear on everything I love. Now..” She shifts forward, rummaging through her bag, pulling out some wraps of gauze. “Let me see that, uhhh..” Her gaze lingers down. Can these… Be considered hands? Webbed fingers and all?

He rolls his eyes, letting out a pfft. “You humans are so stupid. Lemurians have hands too. Don’t be dumb.”

The girl lingers forward, delicately taking his hand within her own. Despite being the same age, his hands… Are larger than hers. “Lemurian?” Her head tilts to the side. “I…. Thought you were a merman.”

Rafayel feigns offense, his tone dripping with sarcasm as he lets out a gasp. “The audacity of this girl. We are, very much, different from mermaids and mermen.” He lets out a contented sigh as the gauze wraps around his palm.

Her expression shifts into one of… Guilt? Shame? He can’t quite put a word on it. “S-sorry… Good, your hand is all wrapped up.” She clasped her hand over it briefly, Rafayel’s heart skipping a beat at the intimacy of it. “I dunno much about Lemurians. But my mama is a mermaid. Well… Turned into one.” She shakes her thoughts away. “Anyways! I should probably introduce myself. I’m Y/N.”

“Rafayel. And do tell me more about this… Mermaid mother of yours.” His eyebrows are knitted together in curiosity. This all sounds so incredibly… Unreal. There’s no way her mother is a mermaid, right?

She bites down on her bottom lip, contemplating on explaining. Y/N’s gaze seems to blossom into one of pain. “My grandma said she died, but my aunt — who took me in… She said she turned into a mermaid when she got really sick. I don’t know what to believe, but I don’t think my aunt would lie to me. I like to think my dad is searching the seas for her, and that explains why he’s away all the time on a ship.”

Rafayel’s heart clenches in his chest. He knows the truth, but he can’t bring himself to hurt her further. Even if they had just met mere minutes ago. He’s not exactly the type of Lemurian to crush someone’s fantasy that helps them sleep at night. “I haven’t seen her down near where I live. I mean… That’s assuming she looks anything like you, like I’d imagine.”

Y/N’s eyes soften, her cheeks tugged into a grin. “I’m sure she’s off being mysterious somewhere in the deep ocean. And yeah, I’ve been told that I look like her.” Her hands retreat downwards further into her lap, her gaze lingering on the glistening scales adorning his tail.

He notices this, playfully rolling his eyes. He might as well lighten the mood. Well, at least attempt to. “Wanna draw a picture of me while you’re at it? I can guarantee you I’ll outdo you in that regard. My mother taught me the refined arts at a young age.” Rafayel smirks, revealing his pearly white teeth.

Her face flushes red in humiliation. Immediately, she breaks her gaze away from him. This seems to make Rafayel pout a bit in disappointment. “I-I’m sorry… Are, uhmm, all Lemurians artistic? I wanna know more about you and your people..”

Rafayel shifts, gnawing at his inner cheek. He’s having an internal debate with himself. As much as he’d typically deny it, he desperately wants to feel her skin brushing along his scales. “Most of us, yes. I happen to be exceptionally gifted of my kind, though. A prodigy, if you will.” He acts on his better judgement, his webbed hand gently wrapping around her palm. “C’mon… I know you’re curious. I’ll play nice and indulge, I won't bite… Hard.”

“R-Rafayel!” She squeaks as he brings her fingertips to his scales. Her mouth is hung open, the pads of her fingers brushing along the scales. They’re softer than she expected… Almost silk-like, smooth to its very essence. “So you’re an artist…? I always wished I was creative like that.”

Rafayel lets his head fall back, a pleased hum vibrating in his throat as her fingers caress his scales. “All of us are talented in our own, unique and independent ways. I happen to be very talented at art. My mother taught me at a young age. I scavenge for stuff for my paints at the bottom of the sea. I’ll have to show you sometime.”

Y/N’s heart swells within her chest at this, giddy at the thought of seeing his art firsthand. “I’d be honored, Rafayel. I’d love to learn how to properly draw. I’ll be pretty lousy at first… I think I wanna draw my favorite sea animal..”

He quirks up a brow, feeling her soft, tiny hands still graze along his tail. “What’s your favorite sea animal, then?” Rafayel’s head tilts to the side, his interest piqued.

She hesitates for a moment. Her hand freezes its movements on his tail. “Seahorse. I just think they’re cute… And it’s especially adorable how the male seahorses carry the babies. I like…” Her cheeks are tinted an adorable pink hue, and this only makes Rafayel’s heartbeat quicken. “I like how they mate for life. I’ve always been a sucker for true love.”

Rafayel feels… Scorching hot. And it’s not because of the sweltering, morning sun. He shakes his head as the air runs through his lilac tresses. “Alright, you’ve had your curiosity with me. Now is my time.” Rafayel states. It’s not like he’s entirely unaware, he’s seen many humans before… But he’s taking this as an opportunity. The lavender haired Lemurian gently peels her hand away, raising her fingertips to brush along his cheek briefly. The sensation of her touch running along his scales is almost too intoxicating. Rafayel allows her fingers to brush over his lips. His breath tickles her skin as a contented sigh slips past his lips.

“I’ll show you a seahorse in person. You can come, see my homeland for yourself. We’ll find a pair of mates, and you’ll be mesmerized not only by the beauty of where I live, but by my dashing good looks also.” He murmurs against her skin, noticing the slight tremor in her hands. “And I’ll teach you to paint, to create, with these small, pathetic human hands of yours.” Rafayel playfully snickers.

Her eyes narrow and she flicks him on the cheek, which causes him to whimper. “You ruined the moment. Are all Lemurians this rude?” Y/N mocks him, grinning widely at him.

Rafayel doesn’t seem to be too impressed with that, crossing his arms over his chest. “Only when an irritatingly kind human stumbles across them.”

“Y/N! Where are you, my dear? Have you gone to secure some seashells?” The sound of an old lady’s voice calling out causes Y/N to harshly flinch. She scrambles back, her hand reaching for her leather backpack.

Her eyes are wide and she wraps her arms around Rafayel’s neck. “I have to go. And you should too. My grandmother can’t see us, can’t see you. I’ll be back at dawn this time tomorrow. I hope you get home safely…” A warm, tender smile crosses her lips.

Rafayel’s hand reaches upwards, his clawed fingers scratching against her scalp. Her hair is so delicately soft.. He wonders if it’ll maintain its softness under the sea. “You better make it tomorrow. I’m looking forward to that, y’know?” As she pulls away, her feet wobble into the sand. Y/N brings her index and middle fingers to her lips, kissing them and holding her fingers in the air as she pulls away.

And with that, she grins toothily, giving him one final glance before she darts off. Rafayel’s heart sinks in his chest slightly at her farewell. He yearns for her fingers to instead be his, to feel the sensation of her lips on his scaled flesh. His body staggers slightly as he retreats into the sea, his tail flailing in the air.

As he swims away, gliding through the bright water, he grins. Rafayel has decided — when he arrives home, he’ll paint a small portrait of the image of her in his quarters back home. His heart races in his chest as he wonders precisely what tomorrow will entail.

The same heart that has already set its sights on her. She will forever be etched into his memory, his heart belonging to her the moment her gentle hands caressed his scaled skin. And just like her beloved seahorses, he plans to do precisely the same. After all, who isn’t fond of a story of true love? It always prevails until the very end.

🌊

“Are you going to catch up, Raf? The water is going to be cold by the time we get there!” Her voice shouting out is enough to bring him back to reality. Y/N turns, flashing him a grin, and it’s exactly the same as the one he had once seen before. Except, obviously, this time all her teeth are intact. Adult ones, at least.

Rafayel snorts, jogging behind her. “Last one to the ocean is a shriveled shrimp!” His hand reaches over, fingertips gliding over her inked flesh. “Maybe we’ll find a seahorse in the water?” His brow quirks up, yanking her gingerly into his bare chest.

Y/N gasps, looking up at him with widened eyes. “If only! I always loved them.”

I know you have, cutie. Rafayel thinks to himself, his lips tugged into a wide grin.

[whumpsoda]

I bet roommate Malak isn’t as enthralled at first cause yk, Adrastus needs him to keep up appearances for awhile to not cast suspicion on themself.

But imagine Malak comes home and Adrastus gets one of those adult cool decorate mobiles that move constantly as a sort of chandelier esq thing and Malak just slowly goes under the more he looks at it, but it’s agonizingly slow.

Just?? Adrastus enjoying the subtle protests of Malak’s psyche

WOHEO Masterlist “I’m home!” Malak announced, as always, keys jingling as he yanked them out from the lock of the front door. Adrastus focused in on the shuffles of his feet kicking off his boots, tuning out the television they’d flicked on as soon as they’d heard him arrive home.

“I’m right here, darling!” They called back, preparing to project just the right hypnotic spiral to the screen and capture their soon to be thrall’s full, drowsy attention. “Come right over to the couch, okay, dear? I have to show you something you’re just going to adore!”

They swiped through until they found their favorite, a bright, bubbling pink that always had Malak’s mind dozing through clouds of vibrant cotton candy any time he saw it. “Malak, c’mere please!”

Realizing the room was fully silent, save for the buzz of the television, their heart dropped. It was almost as if Malak wasn’t there at all. They nearly made the effort to turn around, but-

All of Malak’s belongings slammed to the floor, a sharp thud that had Adrastus recoiling. They thought they’d find him on the floor - their mind going to the worst possible outcome - but instead he was-

Adrastus melted into a thick puddle of delight, surprise boiling down into joy in an instant.

They’d completely forgotten about the newest ceiling fixture they’d installed, a spiral looking thing that twirled in a seemingly never ending loop. Malak’s jaw was falling slack, his shoulders a drooping mass as he stared with unbroken focus and awe, completely enraptured by it.

They had hoped that would be the case, and the sight of it had them wanting to hug and squeeze him as hard as they could. Jumping to their feet, they made a quick stride to do just that.

“Malak?” No answer, just as they had suspected. He was much too overcome by a trance to even hear them. “Oh, baby, aren’t you so cute.” They grabbed him by the cheeks, pulling him to face them.

Malak blinked. “Ad…?” He mumbled, brows furrowed in sleepy puzzlement.

Giggling, they smooshed his cheeks in and out. “That would be master to you, baby. Isn’t that right?”

He nuzzled into their touch, warmth and docility seeping from their flesh. Slightly he nodded, a smile creeping onto his face. “Uh huh… master…”

Guiding him to the couch, Adrastus snaked their hands from his face to his fingers, rubbing in circular motions that only worked to put him further under.

Almost he sat to the couch, before they were able to stop him. “Uh uh, honey. Couches are for masters, not sillies like you. Sit here.” Gently they had him slump to the floor before their legs, already scratching through his hair.

“S- sor… y…” trailing off as his gaze caught on the screen, Malak sighed into mellow tranquility that he would remain in for the remainder of the night with his master.

Taglist- @softvampirewhump @iys-cloud @battyfantasy @xx-adam-xx @silly-scroimblo-skrunkl

@mylifeisonthebookshelf @mis-graves @3-2-whump @whump-till-ya-jump

If anyone wants to be removed or added to the taglist, please let me know! :)

[thrawns-babygirl]

Discomfort (Crosshair x GN!Reader)

Should I be working through my asks? Yes. Do I just really want to give Crosshair head? Also yes. Is Medic!Reader my favourite Crosshair trope? 100% yes. So have this self indulgent smut that I tried to add plot to

Also wanted to practice GN stuff so let me know how it goes. Also if it's not obvious the author is not a doctor and will never be one so please don't judge that part too harshly lmao.

Rating: E

Summary: Crosshair comes home from a mission injured and comes to see you after hours

Warnings: Oral M!Receiving (yes 2k words and that is literally it lmao)

Word Count: 2231

Masterlist

Did I write my longest fic yet just to give Cross some sloppy toppy? Abso-fucking-lutely. And I regret NOTHING

It was late when the Batch arrived back on Kamino, a ping on your comm failing to wake you from your heavy slumber. It had been a rather hectic day after all. Although you were officially the medic assigned to Clone Force 99, while they were off world you earned your keep looking after other squads who had gotten injuries while training or taking care of groups of clones that had to return to Kamino for medical emergencies. Which in the past few rotations was a lot of clones.

You were however roused from your slumber when your door chimed indicating a visitor. Grumbling to yourself and pulling on some loose fatigue pants and a tank top you shuffle over to the door of your modest quarters prepared to give your unwelcomed guest a piece of your mind.

Hitting the door panel, the door whooshed open to reveal Hunter and Crosshair, the former looking tired and apologetic with the weight of the latter slung over his shoulder.

“Sorry to bug you so late doc, but the long necks over in medical told us to come to you if it wasn’t life threatening, something about being over capacity at the moment” Hunter explained gesturing to the taller man next to him.

“I’m fine Hunter” Crosshair grit out, but you didn’t miss the slight wince as he tried to put pressure on his right leg.

All previous grouchiness leaving you as you took in the sight of an irate and obviously in pain Crosshair leaning against his brother. They both looked exhausted and given that it’s been a good number of rotations since you’ve seen them, you’re not surprised they look a little worse for wear.

Smiling softly, you move out of the doorway and gesture for them to come in. Hunter deposits a grumbling crosshair into one of the chairs in the corner of your room that seldom saw use. It’s not like you got too many visitors.

“I didn’t realise you were back home” you say as you head over to your cabinet to grab your supplies, given that he was still walking, you didn’t think there was too many problems with the sniper, but better to be safe than sorry.

“We only just got back, Tech tried to comm you, and when you didn’t reply we went to your bay in Medical only to be told to Kriff off basically by the regs there who-” Hunter attempted and failed to stifle a yawn “-seemed to have their hands full”.

“Go back to the barracks sarge, I’ll patch up Mr. Talkative over there and send him back over when we’re done” You smile as Hunter gives you a relieved look and nods at Crosshair “Behave yourself” he says as he heads towards the door leaving you alone with the sniper, who has yet to say a word to you.

“So Cross, what’s the problem?” You ask as you haul the remarkably taller man over your shoulder and guide him towards your bed to lie him down and you can begin examining what appears to be his right ankle if his limp is any descriptor.

“Meddling team mates and an annoying doctor who won’t let me go to sleep” he bites back slipping a toothpick into his mouth as he lies back on the bed that you were occupying not even ten minutes ago.

“Oh, a comedian now huh? Well, the jokes on you because the sooner you tell me what’s actually happening then the sooner I’ll be out of your hair and you can actually get some sleep. Just like your brothers are probably doing right now. So, I’ll ask again smart-ass, what’s wrong?” you slide on some latex gloves and begin reaching over his lithe legs to remove his boots and the hard plastoid of the lower half of his armour.

“Right ankle. Rolled it wrong retreating from the seppie’s base at the end of our last mission. Tech checked it over and said nothing was broken and to get you to look at it when we got back. Here I am.” He finally answers.

“See? Was that so hard? I know you’re tired but this whole process goes by a lot faster when you cooperate” giving him a small yet genuine smile, you start rotating the ankle, applying small amounts of pressure to see where it hurts the most and taking mental notes as you go. His replies are short and clipped the entire time, even as you dropped the snarky façade you usually had when dealing with this specific clone in favour of your usual bedside manner.

You slowly place his leg back down onto the bed, grabbing some supplies from the box beside you before inputting your findings into your data-pad.

“You’re especially talkative tonight. Credit for your thoughts?” this was your olive branch. Any time the two of you were together you would banter, bicker and generally be a headache for whoever was unfortunate enough to be in your presence, usually his brothers.

He remains silent, avoiding eye contact and facing the wall towards the other side of the room. The smell of you was invading his senses as he laid his head back on your pillows and making his resolve crumble. You were always so willing to play his games, always willing to bite when he would bait you into the sort of banter that gave Hunter a headache and made the others worry you actually hated each other. But you didn’t hate him, you both knew that.  

He wished you would just hate him like everyone else. He wished you would have just turned him away to deal with the pain until you were actually on duty tomorrow instead of inviting him into your room, lying him on your bed as you looked over him in nothing but loose sweats and a thin tank top. He never saw you outside of your uniform and he wasn’t prepared for his body’s reaction to the sight of your skin, his blood rushing south. He was only hoping this would be over as soon as possible and that you wouldn’t notice his slowly growing arousal.

“-if that’s alright?” Crosshair is shaken from his stupor as he realises, you’re talking to him.

“What?” he asks eloquently dragging his eyes over to you.

“I won’t be able to fully examine your ankle through your blacks, they are compression suits after all so I can’t exactly roll them up your leg without possibly exacerbating whatever’s wrong. I’ll need you to strip from the waist down so I can see the full extent of the bruising and check the scope of the swelling to make sure there are no torn ligaments or anything like that. It shouldn’t take too long” you give him a tired smile, your words free from any of the venom they usually have when you address one another.

“Now doc, if you wanted me alone and naked in your room you just had to ask” he smirks over at you. Trying to stall for time and will his semi hard cock to go down.

You roll your eyes, but you are acutely aware of the blush that has bloomed over your face. You can’t say you’ve never thought about it, that would be a huge lie. You’ve thought about it a lot. You were thinking about it as you went to sleep a few hours before being awoken by the object of your desires standing in the doorway to your quarters. But you were a doctor, and he was your patient, now was not the time to be having such inappropriate thoughts, now was the time to bury those feelings deeper than you usually would and just do your job.

“Oh? Alright then, pants off di’kut” you bite back, hoping that your snark covers up how you’re genuinely curious about what he’s hiding under his blacks. Looking up from your data-pad, you notice he’s blushing, Avoiding eye contact with you again.

You’re taken aback, even when your banter turns flirty, you’ve never seen the man in front of you blush, let alone seem embarrassed as he does now. Clearing his throat, he shifts on the bed, lifting his hips slightly to slide his blacks down. You’re about to tell him that if he’s uncomfortable he doesn’t need to undress in front of you, but the words catch in your throat as your eyes are drawn to the source of his discomfort.

He’s huge, long, thick and impossibly hard, the sight makes your mouth water and clears every professional thought from your head. You shake your head and attempt to get back into your ‘doctor’ headspace but its impossible to drag your eyes away from his length. Finally looking down to his ankle you begin to poke and prod and ask questions.

You determine that there is no severe damage and finally swallow your pride and meet his gaze again. His near permanent scowl is replaced with a smug smirk as he takes in your flustered expression.

“See something you like doc?” he all but purrs at you and your face feels like its on fire.

“Y-yes well there doesn’t appear to be anything that will require urgent medical attention, some bacta and a bandage as well as two or three days of rest will be all you need” your eyes burn into his, refusing to travel any lower as you remove your gloves.

“I don’t know about that doc… I can think of something else I might need. I do have some other areas of… discomfort” he’s teasing you now, happy to finally have the upper hand again.

You swallow, your mouth suddenly dry as you refuse to break eye contact with him.

“And- uh- how would you like me to help with that… discomfort, trooper?” your words are just above a whisper as your common sense loses out to your desire and your gaze return to his throbbing length, you notice a bit of precum has gathered at the tip and you want nothing more than to lean down and taste it.

Kark it. You two have been dancing around this for too long and professionalism is overrated anyway.

“You’re the doctor, you’re the one who should know what the patient nee- Ah” you cut him off by licking a line from the base of his cock to the tip, swirling your tongue along the tip to gather the beaded precum that has gathered over the course of your examination. He lets out a hiss, teeth clenching down on the toothpick in his mouth as the feeling of your warm mouth engulfs him.

He was just teasing, he didn’t think either of you would actually take that final step and he’s thrown off guard. You sense you have the advantage over him now and suck hard, running your tongue along the veins on the underside of his cock.

“Kriff doc, just like that- karking perfect” he grunts out above you. He’s panting now, his voice has lost its teasing edge and his hips are slowly rising to shove himself further into your warm mouth. You bring your hand around to stroke the part of him that you can’t fit into your throat.

He moves one of his hands to the back of your head, forcing you further onto his length and causing you to gag slightly. He lets out a sinful groan at the sound of you gagging on his cock, it sends jolts of electricity down his spine pushing him closer to the edge faster than he anticipated.

The sounds he’s making are downright addictive, causing you to double your efforts. Right now, you decide, you are going to give this man the best head of his life. Saliva runs out of your mouth down his shaft and onto his balls as you gag and moan around him. His heavy pants and soft slurping sounds are the only things that can be heard in your room as you bring him closer and closer to the edge.

The hand that’s not wrapped around his shaft moves down to his balls, moving and fondling them before your mouth leaves his length and you run your tongue along his balls, pumping him as you take one and then the other into your mouth sucking them lightly, savouring the strangled groans that he tries and fails to stifle.

“Kark- doc- I’m gonna-” you take him as deep in your throat as you can, swallowing around him as his hand tangles in your hair and holds you there as he spills down your throat, emptying himself into your welcoming mouth, hips thrusting up of their own accord.

You release his cock with a ‘pop’ and move to look up at him. He looks utterly ruined. Wide eyes, blown pupils and heaving chest stripping away all his prior cockiness. His mouth hangs open slightly, toothpick threatening to fall from its current position perched precariously on his bottom lip as he stares at you.

You apply some bacta patches, a bandage and hand him his previously discarded pants. You input some information into your data-pad before turning back to him.

“Well, if that’s everything I recommend returning to your barracks for a good night’s rest trooper. If any further… discomfort arises you know where to find me” you wink down at him.

@where-is-my-mind-tho

@starborncyare

[dreamyautumns]

TreyMal fanfic for my boyfriend💚🖤

Crack!

Trey turns around. The basket in his arms creaks a bit as he searches for the source of the mysterious noise.

“Did I just imagine that…?”

Trey goes back to walking down the path to Riddle’s house, when he suddenly hear’s something again. This time, it sounds like a low growl.

Something’s definitely in this forest…

Trey pulls out the magic pen from his pocket and looks around, wondering what the source of the noise could be.

“Hello, human…”

Trey finally decides to look up. He’s suddenly caught trapped within the gaze of jewel green eyes. A dark shadow casts over the land as he realizes what it is.

Oh damnit… it’s a dragon!

~

It’s hard for Trey to become particularly frightened since he’s so calm. But being face to face with a gigantic dragon, who he assumes is around 50 feet tall, was highly unsettling. Trey slips the pen back in his pocket and backs away, holding his hands up.

“L-listen, sir… I don’t want any trouble. Honest. I’m just delivering goods to my friend who lives in the village through the woods…”

The dragon dips its head down to meet Trey’s golden, amber eyes. Smoke pours out of its nostrils as it inspects the basket, flicking it’s tail back and forth. Trey holds his ground, but it’s hard for him to resist the urge to drop his basket and run.

“You… are a baker? I can smell sweets,” the dragon rumbles.

“Uh… y-yeah! Yeah, I’m a baker. I live with my family in town? We got a whole bunch of sweets there,” Trey answers. “Did you… wanna try one?”

The dragon pulls back before tilting its head. “Hmm… they do smell rather delectable. Alright, then. Indulge me with your “sweets”, human…”

The dragon suddenly glows bright green. Trey’s eyes are blinded as he feels the cold, ominous shadow fall back a bit. When the light fades, he looks up to see the dragon no longer there.

“Huh?”

In the dragon’s place now stands a man who towers over the forest. His skin is pale, and his horns glisten in the light. His eyes remain as bright and peridot green as ever, and his fingernails are painted black. Trey assumes it must be to match his claws. The man seems no older than Trey by a year.

“Fufufu… are you startled by my appearance?” The dragon asks. Trey rubs the back of his head awkwardly.

“I mean… can’t say I was particularly keen on knowing you were also a giant human…”

“Correction; I am a giant fairy. I am half dragon, half fairy. My name is Malleus Draconia.”

“Malleus Draconia…” Trey repeats. “Quite the strong sounding name you got. I’m Trey Clover. Nice to meet you…?”

Malleus exhales, a puff of smoke surrounding the baker. Trey coughs a bit as his glasses are fogged up. “The pleasure is mine, Clover. Now, I’d like to try one of your sweets, if you wouldn’t mind.”

Trey nods, pulling out a small loaf of bread he packed for extra measure. Malleus takes it and swallows it as if it were no more than a mere crumb.

“So, was it t-to your liking?” Trey asks nervously.

“It was quite delicious… you make these goods yourself?” Malleus asks, shuffling. His movements cause a slight tremor to run through the ground. Trey holds himself against a tree to stabilize himself.

“Yes, m-me and my family make them.”

Malleus turns and dips his head down, looking at Trey at eye level. The dragon fae smiles in a teasing manner before blowing another puff of smoke at him. Trey coughs once again and wipes his glasses off.

“How lovely~ you’re quite the charming human.”

“Charming?” Trey chuckles awkwardly. “I’ve never really been described as “charming”, to be honest.”

Malleus chuckles again, his laugh rattling the trees. “You’re quite funny. I think I wish to keep you.”

“Huh? Keep me?” Trey asked. “Malleus, what do you-“

Before he can even get a word out, the giant scoops him up in the palm of his hand and levitates off the ground, smiling at the boy in his hands. Trey holds onto Malleus’ fingers and looks down in a state of worry.

“U-uh, Malleus?! Where are you taking me?!”

“You’re coming home with me, only for a little bit. You fascinate me. Do keep me entertained, human~”

[rebornologist]

Hello babe! I love you so so much and your fungus + fish pictures ;)) Can't wait to see you again and go crazy for girlie night kekekeke 🤪 Anyway time to indulge in my toxic trait 👁👄👁 Can I have an imagine for 🔧 where he has a fight with their s.o. over him always working and never making time/canceling last minute on date nights 😭but you know instead of the typically they both say some hurtful shit and cool off and apologize and makeup, I WANT IT DRAMATIC, MY TOXIC TRAIT! I WANT S.O. TO LEAVE WITHOUT A WORD LIKE 🔧 SAYS SOME SHIT LIKE I ENJOY WORKING THAN GOING ON THESE STUPID DATES AND LEAVES TO HIS WORKSHOP AND S.O. IS JUST SHOCKED PACK THEIR BAGS AND LEAVES NO NOTE NO NOTHING. eh you can decide to end it however you want whether he finds s.o. and makeup or he ain't see them ever again 🤡 love you bby gurl my best stem major girlie 💓 💗 💖 💕 😘

hiii baefie ♡♡ I didn't adhere completely to the prompt and ngl I just lost steam at the few hundred words pt, but I hope this is some juicy drama for you :') xx

♡ SPANNER/READER silly date night drama˚₊⁺˳✧ warnings: ngl reader just stonewalls him, I don't condone this behaviour count: 1035 words

༚✧⁺˳₊˚‿︵‿︵‿୨୧ · ˳ · ♡ · ˳ · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿˚₊˳⁺✧༚

It wouldn’t happen again.

You told yourself that you wouldn’t let it happen again, and he promised you the same.

So you sit there, scrolling on your phone, checking your texts with him, wondering why it seemed to be happening again.

‘bb?’ you shoot him a message, chewing on your bottom lip as you try to suppress your dreadful thoughts. He doesn’t even read the message for a while, and you spend a few minutes fixing up your jewelry and makeup before nervously checking the phone again. Nothing.

You decide to call him.

He doesn’t pick up, and that’s when you feel that familiar frustration light up inside of you, like a match was struck.

Your phone pings with a new text.

‘srry working.’

You scoff when you read it, and call again.

“Hey, babe—” he mumbles, speaking with the same lazy tone and muffled by the lollipop in his mouth. He’s working.

“Hi, how much longer are you working for?” You nearly spit out, trying and failing to put a cap on your mounting annoyance.

He doesn’t reply for a moment, and you just hear rustling as he puts his phone on speaker and sets it down to return to the task at hand. You raise an eyebrow, and he finally clears his throat.

“I’ll be in the shop overnight, one of the—”

“So no date night??” At this point, you’re unable to mask the disappointment in your voice.

More rustling and shuffling sounds, the quiet clang of metal against metal. “Huh..? Oh, tonight? I can’t.”

Your response was delayed as well, but for other reasons. You look at the little gift that you had so thoughtfully put together for him. You weren’t sure how it happened, but next thing you know, there were warm tears streaming down your face, as your mind swirled with thoughts of him having the audacity to sound like he was brushing you aside yet again. And you were probably screaming, but your ears felt clogged and he sounded even more muffled over the phone.

“You never can! Maybe you might as well build a robot partner for yourself, because you clearly cannot respect the needs of a human one!”

“[Y/n], when did I ever.. say anything about dis..respecting you?” he groans, biting down on the stick between his teeth.

“You don’t respect my time, Spanner! Over and over again, you keep canceling on me, completely abandoning our plans, leaving me waiting. I don’t want all of our time spent together to be in your musty workshop. We’ve been wanting to go out for so long!”

That seemed to strike a nerve with him. He whips his head over to face his phone this time, quickly pulling the lollipop out and clearing his throat.

“Maybe I enjoy spending my time in my fucking workshop?!”

He’s met with silence. You swallow your sobs quietly, and end the call.

He goes back to work, but not before quickly sending you a text: ‘will talk to yuo tmrw’.

He does not get to talk to you tomorrow. You decide it yourself. You pack your essentials, realizing that you don’t even want to be here when he comes back to your shared living space. You pull up to Colonello and Lal’s place, spending the weekend in their guest room and talking through some of your feelings with them over take out and a bottle of wine.

When Spanner returns the next day to find all of your key belongings missing, he completely just bluescreens and his brain is scrambled. He sends a string of confused texts, calls a few times, gets left on delivered and sent to voicemail, and finally he reaches out to ask Irie what the fuck happened. He panics for a solid day, checking his phone every few hours, turning over pillows for any hidden notes, biting every lollipop stick down to just pulpy paper sludge before spitting it out bitterly.

What makes it worse is that he finds the wrapped gift on the dining table, the one thing that slipped your mind when you left. You also left your key behind; it may have also just slipped your mind, but it signaled to him that you did not intend to return.

Now, depending on whether and how you decide to get him back in the loop of what you were thinking, feeling, and doing, the situation could resolve itself fairly amicably or very unfortunately.

If you contact him later on, explaining yourself and actually discussing why you felt the need to up and leave, he would.. do his best to understand, and express that he would rather you not do that again and leave him in the dark like that, but the experience might actually light a fire under his ass to commit to the time he promises to spend with you. Unfortunately, I think that also means that he makes less date plans with you just so he can be realistic about fulfilling them, especially when it’s crunch time for him. You get your fill of quality time by spending it with him in his musty (it's really clean, actually) workshop in addition to the very sweet dates he takes you on every once in a long while.

If you just go on ghosting him, it would take him a good week to come to the conclusion that you.. don’t want to see him ever again. He opened the gift box in case there was a note from you in it, and there was. It was a really sweet little message encouraging him to cut himself some slack and take some time off for rest between working on his machines, and that you’re here for him when he needs to turn his brain off and just bask in your affection… clearly, you’re not always here for him. That note and the little gift you had included makes his head hurt every time he looks at it, so he sets it aside in a corner of his shop with the intention of leaving it untouched until you come back to him. He’s sooo avoidant rip. SpannerY/n, y’all had a good run.

fin.✧

[lottiecrabie]

I fear this new line cook! matty content is driving me to a point of no return... the asylum is calling me rn

why does the concept of a more greasy, gross and depraved matty turn me on MORE? like the concept of being younger (but not so young it's weird cmon now, no nonce vibes) and him corrupting you... YUP!!!!

do you have any concept on how it all starts? my brain goes to you need the extra money and host! Adam needs someone to stay late one night and clean, so he asks if you'll do it. you reluctantly agree bc you really need the cash but think you're alone in the restaurant so you have music full blast whilst cleaning and eventually from behind you hear "nice music taste sweetheart would've have guessed you were a - fan" (I can't think of an appropriate musician rn so you fill in the blank.) Obviously you scream and turn around to see sweaty and slightly gross (but unbelievably attractive) line cook matty leaning on the door into the kitchen with a lazy smirk on his face.

one thing leads to another, and you eventually start chatting and are sitting at a table across from each other when he pulls his cigs out and goes, "you don't mind if I smoke in here right love?" and you get all shy and embarrassed and say "no no it's fine... I've never actually smoked a cigarette before, you know?" and this is just like catnip to him bc GOD you're so innocent and cute. you ask to try one if thats okay but he doesn't want you hurting your pure lungs so says "okay sweetheart how about this, instead of you getting your own one and hurting those pretty lungs, let me shotgun you" he then has to explain what shotgunning is bc you're just that new to everything and he's trying to deny in his mind that it makes you even hotter.

he pats the chair next to him and says, "come and sit here babe, it'll be easier." so you shyly get up and shuffle over whilst matty tries not to obsess over how sweet you smell and how short your skirt is riding up your thighs. "I'm gonna take a drag, and then as I breathe out the smoke, you're going to breathe it in. can you do that sweetheart?" obviously completely enthralled by this hot guy teaching you how to smoke you nod and shuffle closer saying "okay" and matty has to close his eyes and force himself to breathe bc of how soft and innocent you sounded. he takes a drag and grabs the back of your head, and out of instinct you grab the his arm and lean in. as he breathes out, you breathe in with a shy smile on your face. he stops and says, "good job baby, now breathe it into your lungs a little... there you go, good girl, " and if you weren't already coughing and spluttering from trying to inhale, that comment would have made you do it anyway.

you do that a couple more times, and then your phone is vibrating on the table. you look and say "shit it's 11pm already?? my roommate was expecting me home hours ago. oh god I've gotta go" you start grabbing everything and then suddenly freeze. matty notices and is like "love? everything okay?" and you sigh and go "not exactly... I forgot Sam (a fellow waitress idk) was my lift home and I can't walk home at this time. I don't know what to do" and matty being the gentleman he is says "don't worry baby ill give you a lift" you stare at him slightly anxious but so excited at the concept of more time with him in a smaller space and go "really matty?" and he just scoffs and goes "of course love, what kind of bloke would I be leaving a pretty young girl like you stranded huh?"

you get his car and tell him your address, he goes to turn the ignition and the car backfires (idk if that's how it actually works I cannot drive lmao) so obviously you jump and he instinctively puts his hand on your thigh and goes "its okay darling just the car warming up don't worry" you just nod with a red face trying not to overthink the fact that he's touching you and keep a straight face. matty sees right through you so keeps his hand there, takes it off to change gears and puts it right back to see you get re-flustered everytime.

eventually you get to your place and he walks you to your door you say "really thank you again I appreciate it" and he's like "it's okay I'm glad you're home safe" . not wanting to be too creepy, he goes in to kiss your cheek but in some bold confidence boost you turn and kiss him on the lips. he shoots back and looks at you and starts to say "look love i-" but when he looks back at you with your lips slightly parted and they're red and puffy and you're looking up at him with doe eyes he can't help himself so he just goes back in full force groaning and how soft your lips are and how sweet you taste when he licks in your mouth. it gets hot and heavy pretty quick, so out of breath from kissing matty asks "now where did that come from angel? what happened to the pretty little thing who didn't know what shogunning was huh?" and giggling you respond with assured nods and sarcastically say "it must be the cigarettes, you're such a bad influence" and flutter your eyelashes at him. whilst in this strangely confident state you ask, "Do you want to come upstairs?" and matty just smirks and says "not tonight love but come see me in my office tomorrow and we can definitely discuss this more" so you get all shy and say "okay then... I guess I'll see you tomorrow?" and turn to put your key in and he goes "oh you certainly will sweetheart you aren't getting away that easily" which makes you giggle and walk away with slightly more sway in your hips than necessary. you turn back and see him standing there through the lift doors so you do a coy little wave and matty teasingly does the exact same wave back as the doors shut.

I'm SO sorry this got so long and I'm not a writer so ignore all the shit BUT you get my concept

anways going to get a lobotomy now brb

SCREAMING don’t say you’re not a writer that was so good!! also so so funny to receive a full blown blurb into my ask like damn we are switching places here! didn’t even have to write it for the thoughts to exist🥰 felt like i was being serenaded with smut. (and when i do a reverse blurb night where i post prompts and other people send the blurbs in instead🤨)

‘why does greasy, gross and depraved turn me on more’ that is the linecook paradox that is the ultimate question!!!

omg he would 100% drive her home anytime she’s closing Even before they’re ever hooking up. he’s just not letting a young pretty girl like her walk alone at night. also i Love shotgunning in stories (it’s literally in my smut ideas list😭) like damn getting all close and personal with ur lips??🤭 why so sensual

[lifesver]

@fcused said: ❛  you have snowflakes in your hair.  ❜

she catches him looking stupid at just the opportune moment; tongue stuck out trying to catch snowflakes on his tongue. at the sound of her voice, leland snaps his head around in an instant, visibly startled;

❝ oh — hey con! ❞ crooked smile beamed in connie's direction, as he jogs up to meet her. honestly, in his defense, it never snowed this much. it kind of made him feel like a little kid again, who for-sure didn't know about gpas or taxes. of course — it wasn’t a particularly arctic day, or anything, but they're both woefully underdressed for it anyway. as was most of the campus; struggling down iced paths to the classroom buildings, and spending as little time in the freezing in-between as they could.

❝ — so the fake dandruff look isn't doing it for you? ❞ his smile eases into something playful — and he promptly shakes out his snow-littered hair on her, exactly like a wet dog. connie makes a sound — somewhere between a laugh and a complaint as she dodges away from him. she keeps him at a distance with one hand planted on his chest, until he’s done.

but, as soon as her hand drops, there’s no stopping him from sweeping her up into his arms for a hug. leland hums, and gives a pointed look down at her; ❝ — actually, ❞ he begins, ❝ i don’t think you have enough snowflakes in your hair, taylor. ❞

she frowns up at him like she doesn’t understand where he's going with that. then her lips part, in realization, or horror, brows dropping down in pre-emptive incredulousness. before she can retaliate, leland ducks down, scooping her up under the knees. she squeals a protest of ' leland don't you dare— ' which is certainly not enough to stop him from tossing her into the nearest snowbank.

' jerk. ' when she emerges from the connie-shaped dent in the snow, she's tossing a loose handful of the stuff at him. leland puts up his hands half in surrender, and half to shield from the onslaught; ❝ see? very stylish.❞ he's clearly very proud of himself. but like any good gentleman, leland shuffles over and extends a hand to help her back out. for a moment, she goes to reach for it, and then a look of mischief passes in her expression.

and this time it's leland's turn to get caught mid-way through a ' oh-no-no— ' before he's being pulled off balance — and sent tumbling into the snowbank right next to her. he barely catches himself with a punctuated oof — still gets a face full of snow for his crimes. but he's too busy laughing himself breathless to mind too much.

leland shakes the frost away, again, and then reaches over to more delicately dust some out of connie's hair. now they're both cold and damp, and amusement warms his stinging cheeks; ❝ sorry,❞ he says, looking not all that sorry at all. ❝ guess we have to go change now, huh?❞

[voicesofthegrid]

VotG - Topaz Blue

A story exploring the emotions of Edward Barnes during the events of 9/11. Content warning for depiction of 9/11, mild suicidal/self-harm ideation, and emotional distress.

6 AM: BEEP BEEP BEEP BE– CLICK. My fist slams down on my alarm clock, rattling the bedside table that it sits on. I groan and roll over, covering my eyes with my forearm  to block out the beams of sunlight filtering through my curtains before grasping the covers and throwing them off of me. Another sleepless night. Must just be too much on my mind. Maybe I ought to get my apology over with today. I’ll have to think about it when I’m not still half asleep. I never make good decisions before coffee. 

6:07 AM: The shower hisses to life as I turn the knob just a hair away from the highest temperature. Wispy steam rises from the water, filling the small room with wavering clouds. 

6:29 AM: Goddamnit. Got lost in thought again. There goes my sit-down breakfast. At least I can read the paper on the train. 

6:42 AM: I adjust my hat in the hallway mirror. My eyebags are dark and heavy. 

6:50 AM: Thank god for travel mugs, huh? My brother was nice enough to have coffee ready for me as I rushed out the door. And to think we hated each other at one point. I take a sip as I sink into my seat in the subway car, snapping open today’s newspaper. Just a touch of sweetness. Exactly how I like it. 

7:33 AM: The door to my office clicks shut behind me. I hang up my coat and hat on the rack in the corner, just as I have for the past… However many years I’ve been here. I pull the shade that hangs over my window up to gaze out on the city before I start my work for the day. Nary a cloud mars the topaz blue of the sky that extends out as far as the eye can see. I glance at the World Trade Center in the distance, the two great towers that anchor the campus. They stare back at me with their thousands of tiny windows, unblinking. Judging me. I have got to apologize to those kids. I just… can’t believe how goddamn immature I’ve been. Fuck. 

8:05 AM: I tap my pen impatiently against my desk. Guilt is making it incredibly hard to focus on the task at hand. 

8:43 AM: Goddamnit. I’m not going to get anything done like this. I’ve been up and pacing around my office for the past twenty minutes. I can feel those towers with their thousands of little eyes on my back burning straight through to my soul. Fuck it. I’m going home and I’m apologizing to the kids. Work can wait. I frantically shuffle papers into my desk and lock it shut before marching over to the coat-rack in the corner of my office. I grab my hat and—

8:46 AM, SEPTEMBER 11TH, 2001: BOOM. 

I wheel around. There’s a dull thump as my hat falls from my grasp. My jaw hangs open in… Shock? Awe? Terror? I don’t even… I don’t know what to call it. I can’t name it. I just feel it. 

I rush to the window. 

There on the North Tower – Wyatt’s building – Is a gaping maw of shredded steel spewing black smoke. 

Shit.

Is he hurt? What the hell caused… That? 

I rip my phone from its cradle and frantically dial home to my brother with trembling hands.

“Clarence…?” My voice breaks as I barely choke out his name. 

“Yeah, I – No, I don’t know what happened– Clarence– I– A plane? How? What?”

9:03 AM, SEPTEMBER 11TH, 2001: BOOM. 

A soft gasp and a muffled sob filter through the receiver. 

I look up from my desk. I… Know… I know what must have happened but I don’t want to believe it. I don’t want to see. But I force myself to look anyway. 

A gash clawed through the South Tower – Winona’s building – is spewing the same black smoke that her brother’s building is. Oh my god.

“Clarence?” I ask, trepidation thick in my throat, “Are you…?”

He sees it too. I’m not dreaming. A nightmare then, surely. I… No, no this isn’t real this is just some god-awful nightmare, my subconscious trying to teach me a lesson. 

Some… cruel trick. 

9:33 AM, SEPTEMBER 11TH, 2001: I haven’t been able to peel my eyes off of the smoke pouring from the Towers. I have no idea where the twins are. If they’re hurt. They have to be hurt. I remember when I – No, no. Goddamnit, Ed. Don’t think about you. This is about them. They’re hurt. I hurt them. I. Fuck. They’ll be okay, right? If I survived back in ‘45, surely… 

9:35 AM, SEPTEMBER 11TH, 2001: They’re evacuating my building. What happened to the towers is deliberate. 

I’m not leaving.

A captain always goes down with his ship. 

If I’m next, so be it. Maybe I deserve it after what I put those kids through. 

9:38 AM, SEPTEMBER 11TH, 2001: I tell Clarence I’m leaving. I lie. I don’t want him to worry about me. 

Click.

I keep my hand on the phone for a moment after I’ve returned it to its cradle. I wish I could tell him how much he means to me. I wish I had been a better brother. 

I go to my liquor cabinet. I pour myself a drink. The good stuff. 

9:58 AM, SEPTEMBER 11TH, 2001: Smoke is still pouring from the gaping wounds in the towers. I am numb. Sunken into my chair. Eyes glued to the blackened horizon in my window. My glass dangles precariously in my loose grasp. 

9:59 AM, SEPTEMBER 11TH, 2001: CRACK. 

The glass falls from my limp hand and shatters on the floor as I bolt upwards out of my chair.

She’s gone.

The South Tower… Winona… It… She’s… Just.

Gone. 

Hot tears well in my eyes. 

10:21 AM, SEPTEMBER 11TH, 2001: I pace the length of my office in front of my window. I am an animal, trapped in a cage of my own making. The glass remains shattered on the floor. How long have I been pacing? When did this start? When did it all go so wrong?

10:28 AM, SEPTEMBER 11TH, 2001: There is a great roaring in the distance. 

The North Tower falls. 

Dominoes. A house of cards. A structure that once held the title of tallest building in the world, reduced to nothing. 

Ash. 

Wyatt is gone. Winona is gone. That wish that I had made so long ago, that awful, awful wish of just wanting them to disappear…

Here it is, come to fruition. 

Fuck. 

[diamondangelkitten]

Vierapril 13: Horizon

Alira holds onto the siding of the ship for dear life as the waves crash upon the boat. “I hate boats.” Alinea looks up from where she’s located at the helm attempting to draw. “Still seasick?” A murmur of assent, before the viera empties her stomach again into the ocean. Alinea grimaces. She’s taken a few boats before and has never felt sick herself, so she’s at a loss as to what to do. She decides to head down and check if Aurora has any suggestions.

As she passes by the sleeping quarters, she hears Aurora’s voice, “Annabeth, lying in here is not going to help.” “Just let me die here.” “Stop being so dramatic.” Alinea wonders if all Viera just dislike sailing, but decides now’s not the time to ask questions of the crew or Alphinaud. She enters into the sleeping bay, “Hey Annabeth, not feeling so great?” The look on Annabeth’s face would make Alinea cower, if it wasn’t for the shade of green that tinged her cheeks. Aurora sighs, “She hasn’t found her sea legs yet and she refuses to get fresh air to help.” “The same air is making its way into here isn’t it?” Alinea looks between the two of them, before interjecting, “I hate to say this, but Alira’s also still feeling ill up there. Isn’t there anything you can give them or do?”

An even deeper sigh originates from Aurora. “Is she looking at the horizon?” “What?” Aurora sighs, “Okay, Ali, hoist Annabeth from her hammock. Mind your toes and meet me up on deck.” Annabeth glares at Alinea, but she holds up her hands, “I’m just following the First Mate’s orders.” Annabeth rolls her eyes before shutting them and swings her legs over the side. “I hate boat travel.” “Yea, I do too now.”

They slowly shuffle-step their way to the deck where they see Alira slumped where Alinea had left her earlier. As they move closer to her, Alira lifts her head, “You too, huh?” Annabeth removes herself from Alinea’s grasp and falls down next to her friend. “I hate it here.” A few short moments later, Aurora emerges and heads straight for them. “Okay, here, eat this.” The two Viera look at her like she’s crawled out from the woodworks. “Look, it’s called hard tack. It’s not tasty, in the least, but it’s bland and will help settle your stomachs. At least a bit. Please won’t you try nibble on it?” She puts on her cutest puppy dog eyes and Alira and Annabeth can’t deny her. They both take a piece of the proffered hard tack and after a cautious glance between them, start to nibble. “Any better?” As they’re about to reply, a wave hits the ship, and Alira furiously shakes her head no.

Carvallain comes up behind Aurora. “Still struggling, eh? Well, Aurora, cast your eyes out, and help them remember the first rule of sailing yea?” She turns her gaze towards where her father points and a smile lights up her face. “What’s rule number one?” Alira groans. Aurora extends a hand to each of the Viera, who sigh and heave themselves up. Alinea, who’s picked up now on the lesson, goes to stand behind them and braces them, putting a hand on their shoulders. “Always keep your eye on the horizon.” Annabeth and Alira look at each other and back to the horizon as Kugane comes into view. “Oh my gosh.” Alira laughs, “that’s really it?” Aurora nods, “We’re almost there.” Annabeth pulls them into a group hug, “Well girls, almost time to be off this blasted ship and into one of their famed hot springs.” The girls laugh, before Carvallain sneaks up behind them, “Aren’t you meant to be liberating some country men or whatever? There’ll be time for relaxing later.” “Yes Papa.” He smiles as he turns back towards the helm. Aye, as long as the girls keep an eye on the horizon, on the coming dawn together, they’ll be just fine. 

[brothershardy]

If Joe was going to be honest, he'd been looking forward to finding the kitchens himself, and now that Hermione had done so, he made note to remember the doorway that led them down the brightly lid corridor decorated with pictures of food. Seeing so many house elves dressed in white togas pressed with the Hogwarts crest was rather astounding, and he was more along the lines of looking around than paying much attention.

He followed the rest when Dobby took them to Winky, who predictably burst into tears when she saw them, as if she blamed them for her plight of being a "disgraced" elf. When the tea and cookies arrived, Joe obligingly sat down and accepted a cup, as well as one of the cookies, taking a big bite.

"Delicious," he told the elves, and they beamed with pride, bowing back to him and returning to their work. At Dobby's declaration that he wanted to be paid for his work, Joe nodded. "Good on you, Dobby."

"Thank you sir!" Dobby said cheerfully. “But most wizards doesn’t want a house-elf who wants paying, sir. ‘That’s not the point of a house-elf,’ they says, and they slammed the door in Dobby’s face! Dobby likes work, but he wants to wear clothes and he wants to be paid, Harry Potter. . . . Dobby likes being free!”

Some of the elves hanging around to listen in on them suddenly looked a little embarrassed, and the more Dobby talked, the more they shuffled back, as if he were carrying some kind of contagious disease. It was honestly really sad.

Dobby, cheerfully oblivious, kept going with his story. "And then, Harry Potter, Dobby goes to visit his friend Winky and he finds Winky has been freed too--" and at this Winky slid off of the stool and lay facedown on the floor absolutely howling her misery, and Hermione hastily dropped to her knees beside the poor creature to try and comfort her "--so Dobby suggests that he and Winky find work together, and so they come to Hogwarts to see Professor Dumbledore, and Professor Dumbledore took us on!"

He grinned rather toothily. "And Professor Dumbledore says he will pay Dobby, too, sir, if Dobby wants paying, and so Dobby earns a Galleon a week and one day off a month!"

"That's not very much," Joe commented while Hermione looked briefly outraged.

"Well, Professor Dumbledore offered Dobby ten Galleons a week and weekends off." Dobby shuddered with some semblance of horror. "But Dobby beat him down, sir, yes, Dobby likes being a free elf, and he likes being paid, but Dobby likes work much more."

"Huh." Joe took another bite from his cookie. "Alright."

"And how much is Professor Dumbledore paying you, Winky?" Hermione asked, trying to sound kind.

That was what caused Winky to stop crying abruptly, and she pushed herself back to a sitting position to give Hermione the look of death, which might have looked a little intimidating had she not been red rimmed in the eyes and with snot on her nose. "Winky is a disgraced elf, but Winky has not sunk so low as to be paid! Winky is properly ashamed about being freed!"

Hermione was shocked. "Ashamed? Why are you ashamed, Winky? It's Mr Crouch who should be ashamed, he was horrid to you--"

But Winky wasn't hearing it, yanking her ears down as if to block out the girl's words. “You is not insulting my master, miss!" she screeched. "You is not insulting Mr. Crouch! Mr. Crouch is a good wizard, miss! Mr. Crouch is right to sack bad Winky!” “Winky is having trouble adjusting, Harry Potter,” Dobby said confidentially. “Winky forgets she is not bound to Mr. Crouch anymore; she is allowed to speak her mind now, but she won’t do it.”

"Can't house elves speak their minds about their masters?" Ron asked, a little surprised, and Joe blinked when he saw the redhead had managed to get a sandwich to go with the cookies.

"Oh no sir," Dobby said somberly. “ ’Tis part of the house-elf’s enslavement, sir. We keeps their secrets and our silence, sir. We upholds the family’s honor, and we never speaks ill of them — though Professor Dumbledore told Dobby he does not insist upon this."

Joe agreeing that they had to stop Hagrid doing the interview was sobering, because it meant that whatever came of it in the original story wasn’t good. If they could protect their friend….well, they had to, of course.

As for the skrewts being guaranteed gone, well, thank God for that.

Divination was perfectly pleasant, aside from being in a stuffy tower, and having Trelawney declare his doom every other sentence. “It’d be easier to indulge her and pretend I was impressed still if she didn’t do it about eighty times a class,” Harry snorted as they finally regained the fresh air of the staircase. “But if I’d dropped dead every time she’s told me I’m going to, I’d be a medical miracle.”

“You’d be a sort of extra-concentrated ghost,” Ron agreed, chortling.

Joe’s warning had them cutting off the laughs as they headed into the common room–and ambushed they were, by a breathless and stuttering Hermione. Harry almost fell on his face as she started hauling him along, Joe and Ron on their heels, back down through the entire castle to a corrido behind the Great Hall.

“Oh, blimey,” Harry sighed, when he spotted the painting and heard Joe’s words. “Hermione–”

Well, they were already there, he supposed. Watching her scramble in, Harry sighed at Joe’s teasing grin and climbed in after her. He had one brief glimpse of an enormous, high-ceilinged room, as large as the Great Hall above it, with mounds of glittering brass pots and pans heaped around the stone walls, and a great brick fireplace at the other end, when something small hurtled toward him from the middle of the room, squealing, “Harry Potter, sir! Harry Potter!”

Next second the wind was knocked out of him as the squealing house elf hit him hard in the midriff, hugging him so tightly he thought his ribs would break. “D-Dobby?” Harry gasped.

“It is Dobby, sir, it is!” squealed the familiar voice, from somewhere around his navel. “Dobby has been hoping and hoping to see Harry Potter, sir, and Harry Potter has come to see him, sir!”

Dobby let go and stepped back a few paces, beaming up at Harry, his enormous, green, tennis-ball-shaped eyes brimming with tears of happiness. He looked almost exactly as Harry remembered him—all except the clothes, which were very different. Unlike his old dirty pillowcase from when he had been Lucius Malfoy’s servant ,now he wore…

“Wow,” Ron coughed on a laugh. Dobby was wearing a tea cozy for a hat, on which he had pinned a number of bright badges; a tie patterned with horseshoes over a bare chest, a pair of what looked like children’s soccer shorts, and odd socks. One of these, Harry saw, was the black one that he and Joe had tricked Mr. Malfoy into giving Dobby to begin with. The other was covered in pink and orange stripes.

“Dobby, what’re you doing here?” Harry asked in amazement. He looked at Hermione, who beamed back, clearly delighted with herself for having discovered this.

“Dobby has come to work at Hogwarts, sir!” Dobby squealed. “Professor Dumbledore gave Dobby and Winky jobs, sir!”

“Winky?” Harry repeated. “She’s here too?”

“Yes, sir, yes!” Dobby seized Harry’s hand and pulled, leading all four of them deeper into the kitchen between the four long wooden tables that stood there. Each of these tables, Harry realized, was positioned exactly beneath the four House tables above, in the Great Hall. At least a hundred little elves were standing around the kitchen, beaming, bowing, and curtsying as Dobby led Harry past them. They were all wearing the same uniform: a tea towel stamped with the Hogwarts crest, and tied, as Winky’s had been, like a toga.

Dobby stopped in front of the brick fireplace and pointed. “Winky, sir!” he said.

Winky was sitting on a stool by the fire. Unlike Dobby, she had obviously not foraged for clothes. She was wearing a neat little skirt and blouse with a matching blue hat, which had holes in it for her large ears.

“Hello, Winky,” Harry offered kindly. Winky looked up at him, and then her lip quivered, before she suddenly burst into tears.

“Oh dear,” Hermione sighed. “Winky, don’t cry, please don’t…”

Winky continued right on weeping, while Dobby beamed up at them all. “Would Harry Potter and his friends like tea?” he squeaked loudly, over Winky’s sobs.

“Er—yeah, okay,” Harry said, awkwardly, unsure how to comfort Winky. Instantly, about six house elves came trotting up, bearing a large silver tray laden with a teapot, cups for Harry, Joe, Ron, and Hermione, a milk jug, and a large plate of biscuits, and they conjured four stools more suited for humans to sit on.

“How long have you been here, Dobby?” Harry asked as Dobby handed around the tea.

“Only a week, Harry Potter, sir!” Dobby said happily. “Dobby came to see Professor Dumbledore, sir. You see, sir, it is very difficult for a house elf who has been dismissed to get a new position, sir, very difficult indeed. “Dobby has traveled the country for two whole years, sir, trying to find work! But Dobby hasn’t found work, sir, because Dobby wants paying now!”

Harry sighed as Hermione preened, giving her a look. “What, he wanted that for himself,” she said defensively. “It isn’t as if we’ve been pen pals as he looked! I didn’t know he was here till now, either.”

[2kverrr]

TᗯO-Iᑎ-OᑎE ᖴOOT'ᑎ'ᗩᔕᔕ ᑕᖇEᗩᗰ

Steph Gingrich x Fem!Reader

Summary: You and Steph reminisce over your Blackwell days.

Warnings: Swearing, mention of Rachel and Chloe’s death.

The news had just hit Steph and me, and ever since the phone call two hours ago we've been sitting in silence in Steph's apartment. Chloe and Rachel, the two used to be our friends. Once we heard about Rachel's disappearance, we assumed she took off to be the Hollywood persona she was. That's what we hoped. But, dead in the ground of a junkyard, it's fucking disgusting.

I know Steph left Arcadia to get away from all of life's bullshit, to escape its effect on her. Even though she shared good times whilst there, it was too much for her. And now, somehow, someway, I've managed to find my way back to her. Then this happens. Karma's a bitch.

I never got on with Chloe, we'd try to stay away from each other. I always thought of her disrespect and rudeness as uncalled for, even after hearing about her past. We'd argue when I call her out for it and Rachel being the hero she is, was. She'd bring the peace again as if it were magic. Rachel and I were close, I'm sure at some point I liked her in a more-than-a-friend way. But who wouldn't? This is Rachel Amber we're talking about.

Though I do remember mine and Mikey's curiosity over Steph's attraction to the girl, we never dared to question it though.

These positive thoughts of the two friends I loved now fill my mind. The fact their lives were taken from them before they had the chance to live, to escape shitty Arcadia Bay and get out into the real world. Chloe was going to be some punk car mechanic or tattoo artist. Rachel was going to be a model, actress, singer, dancer, you name it and Rachel Amber will be perfect at it. We'd all keep in contact, go out for drinks, live together, and do cool shit like that.

A rage I attempted to control flows through my veins, forcing my hand across the kitchen counter and whacking off my glass of water. My breathing remains heavy while I watch the glass shatter, and then the water that begins to spill over the floor.

I feel Steph's hand on my shoulder, trying to calm me down, and surprisingly, it does. She leads me over to her couch then she wanders off to clean up the mess I made. "Sorry," I mutter.

In my peripheral vision, I watch Steph shuffle around the kitchen getting up the glass while allowing my fingers to massage my temples as my face falls into my hands.

Once the mess was cleaned up, Steph takes a seat next to me and releases a heavy sigh. "Remember Warren?" She questions, confusing me for a second.

"Yeah, I do..." I answer, awaiting to find out what she was on about.

"Well, what was that all about?" She lightly chuckles with a curious eyebrow quirked.

"Huh?" I respond, the girl frying my brain.

"You two were definitely hooking up." The assumption that left her mouth sent me into a choking fit.

"Steph, what are you on?" I question.

"Warren would always bail on our DnD sessions saying, 'Oh, I'm meeting Y/n in her dorm.' So, that could only mean one thing. And if I'm being honest Y/n, I thought you had a better taste than that, bad enough him being a male." She explains.

I fall back into the couch, palming my face. "Oh my God."

"What?" She laughs

"He was tutoring me."

"Oh, so you're into role-play, no wonder you're LARP character was so accur-"

"Steph!" I shout, covering her mouth with my hand. "In science, he was tutoring me in science... and math too. I was doing like, worryingly bad, and I had to do something before my parents found out. Ms Grant suggested getting a tutor, so Warren offered."

"Okay, at least you weren't sleeping with that nerd." She huffs, her once suspicion now proven a lie.

"Yeah, on that topic. How about your little wet fantasy for Rachel. The single most obvious thing ever." I laugh, and Steph immediately goes red.

"That wasn't like that, she- well I li- no- It doesn't matter!" She blurts out in embarrassment.

We return to the silence again, enjoying the aftermath of the previous moment. All until I hear Steph release a huff, "I had a little thing for you too, you know." She admits.

All of a sudden, my breathing stopped, it felt like my blood flow froze, my heart malfunctioned, and my whole existence was put on hold. No way, she couldn't have. I saw the way she looked at Rachel, it's not possible.

"Maybe even more than I did Rachel," Steph adds, with a slightly amused tone, as if it was only a recent realisation. I gather myself, fixing my posture and clearing my throat.

"Really?" I ask, curious to find more of this. Shit, maybe I sounded too curious.

"Yeah." She assured me, slightly more urgent this time, maybe she shared too much? Maybe I could, I don't know... return the favour.

"You remember that one Valentine's day, you got that bouquet of flowers," I mention, this should be good.

"Yeah, I was fully convinced it was secretly Rachel, but obviously it wasn't." She sighs disappointed.

"What about it?" She asks, bringing her knee up on the couch to rest the side of her face on.

I let my hands fall into my lap, my thumbs fiddling as I think of a response. "Uh, well- I sent them." A small silence falls between us once again. "I was also the one that dyed the sprinkler system and fountain pink that day, and the whole Principle Wells lifetime supply of gingernut two-in-one foot'n'ass cream gift thing, yeah that was me too."

"That was all you?" She questions cheerfully, eyes wide open with a beaming smile, "Damn, that got me out of like two tests, I could kiss you!"

I freeze, my smile frozen solid, and Steph's hands rested on my shoulders. Her smile remains big, slowly falling into less of a joyful one and into more of a lovingly one. I feel her fingers begin to twitch on my forearm, forming goosebumps on my skin. "Can I?"

My mouth falls slightly open, ready to respond to the DJ, but nothing comes out. I attempt to find the right words, but all I can manage is a small "That'd be quite nice, thank you."

That'd be quite nice, thank you? Really Y/n? What year is it, the 1400's? You've really messed it up now.

A small chuckle leaves Steph's lips.

See, look what you've done.

Before I can react, Steph was leaning in closer. I push my head the short distance to hers, our lips melting into each other with a soft kiss. My hand slowly makes its way through Steph's hair, while she brings her hand down from my forearm to my jaw, the other arm doing the same.

She rubs her hand up and down my side slowly before we detach our mouths for very much needed air. We rest our foreheads together, lips still touching, taking heavy breaths. "Should've done this three years ago." I smile, leaning back in to reconnect out lips.