#every single one of these people but also the ones i forgot to mention!

[vegathenorthstar]

i am slightly scared bc this post is getting a surprising amount of traction and also bc i've been thinking about almost exclusively atla for the past twenty-four hours straight and my opinions on this have changed slightly??

i still don't tolerate maiko *slander* bc i disapprove of almost all slander. the exceptions are like if it's against elon musk or something.

and i've always kinda understood basically all criticism of maiko?? like my thoughts on that were like "yeah you're totally right they wouldn't work together but they're super funny so idc." but now i feel like i get the criticism just a little more, like no they really wouldn't work together.

there were two main things ppl said that made me reconsider how i view them. the first was just someone pointing out that in the flashback in zuko alone mai is the one who has a crush on zuko, and he doesn't really have one on her. i think i just kinda forgot that but to me it emphasizes that mai was always more interested in zuko than her was in her. tbf he did seem to enjoy spending time w her in the first half of season 3, and and opened up to her abt how confused he felt and how he wasn't really happy, but it's still pretty clear that she cared about him far more (like... at the end of boiling rock he kinda just goes "oh wow okay" and then promptly forgets about her lol).

the other thing was someone mentioned how a big part of zuko's arc in season 2 was being a beggar, and a refugee, and a customer service worker in ba sing se, and learning to do manual labor and empathize with the common people and that he wasn't innately superior to them, and that shows when he gets back to the fire nation and he's uncomfortable being waited on, and wants to walk to mai's house instead of taking the palanquin. but when mai is trying to cheer him up, she suggests they can order some servants around, or take a palanquin ride "double-time," and making that connection made me be like "ohhhh she really doesn't get him does she?"

ppl talk a lot about her fearing azula coming out of nowhere, but i still don't have a problem w that. i think the idea that mai and ty lee were secretly afraid of azula, to some degree, and that they were trapped in this toxic, controlling friendship that they always felt compelled to play along with and pretend they were having a great time in––and, perhaps, that they did still enjoy azula's company, just not all the time/with reservations, and that they also cared about each other, and both decided to stick around for the other's sake––actually fits kinda perfectly with how they're portrayed throughout the show and is very compelling. (there are certainly plenty of moments where azula treats the two of them awfully, especially ty lee––like when she mocks her for opening up in ember island––and there's that moment in the drill episode where azula tells mai and ty lee to go after katara and sokka, and ty lee is SO insistent that they do it, because azula said so––almost like she's afraid of azula's wrath.)

lowkey now i ship mai and ty lee lmaooo

but i would like to reiterate that i do still like maiko, even though i acknowledge that their ship doesn't work, bc their dynamic is so fricken hilarious to watch. a large part of why i adore "ember island" so much is because of them. it's actually a little insane bc before season 3, i knew they were a thing but could not for the life of me imagine what them interacting would possible look like––i was like "wow this is going to be the worst ship in the universe... they have nothing in common... i genuinely cannot envision them making it through a single conversation on anything remotely interesting ever..."

and then they did interact and it was perfection and every time they were on screen together i was in STITCHES bc they're incredible omg

i also just liked that zuko had someone who was even a little bit in his corner while he was stuck in the fire nation having an existential crisis.

i honestly think they would work equally well as friends? i'm not against the romance, which is why i'll still go "yeah i like maiko," but especially since i do also feel that them in a relationship doesn't work long-term i think i need more maiko friendship/best-friendship––as long as they're interacting with one another, because i NEED more of them so badly. even when they're being dysfunctional/acting cruel towards each other, i'm just like "omg peak comedy. also. pookies :D"

(i also said in a post last week that they give me gay-best-friends vibes, and i still stand by that. and yes, i do also ship zutara... pls don't ask me how that works i don't know okay it's all just ~vibes~. idk maybe everyone is bi or something. i am kinda sorta genuinely convinced mai is a lesbian tho)

so. in conclusion i guess. my stance on maiko has recently landed firmly on the side of they do not work together, romantically. but i still love them bc they're silly and toxic and stupid and very very dear to me. but i don't really ship them and i like zutara far more. but if you do ship them i'm fine w that! but maybe. i just see them as friends? and also i ship mai w ty lee (... do they have a ship name) as of like ten minutes ago?? but maiko romance doesn't bother me! i kinda like it! sometimes!

in conclusion take two. maiko (romantic or platonic) are Peak

do NOT slander maiko in my presence they r so dear to me

[helios-two]

cindy + studcoms compilation

[name-doggo]

One thing I really wish the FF Community would Stop doing is Removing All Nuance from the Parents in Those Stories in order to Make Them Abusive Supervillains who Never Loved their Kid.

Like... In the Four Years I've been here, and for how Small the Community really is, you'd be surprised how many Times I've seen it-

[aroaessidhe]

2023 reads // twitter thread

Love Letters For Joy

YA contemporary Cyrano de Bergerac retelling

an ace girl with cerebral palsy who’s determined to be valedictorian, with only her academic rival to beat

when her friends start pairing up, she starts to wonder if she wants something like that, and emails the anonymous romance advice email going around her school

[iicraft505]

someone kill me, just straight up put me down. my annoying former coworker returned as a volunteer and he annoys me under the best of circumstances but. literally I just said that I don't do dishes that often (meaning not often enough for it to have fucked up my name tag), and he was like "I think it's weird that you would admit to not doing your job" like bitch that's not what I fucking said but okay. And then I was like well I do them sometimes when it's needed and he was like "um..." in that "no you don't way" and said "there were a ton of dishes in the sink when I got here" yeah because I was fucking taking care of birds all day, dipshit! I was feeding our incubator birds every 30 minutes, I did literally all of our outdoor dishes (there was a mountain when I got in today!), I helped catch two very full adult bird outdoor flight cages for weighing and release, I went to release some hatchling turtles, and did all the other miscellaneous cleaning tasks that pile up when feeding hummingbirds. Sorry I didn't have a spare second to do the fucking inside dishes!

[novella-november]

Novella November 2024 Announcement Post

Hate AI, but love writing challenges?

Want to take part in a global, fun project to write a Novella in one month?

Grab some friends, and take part in Novella November, by writing 1,000 words a day for the month of November, ending with a 30,000 word Novella to test and stretch your novel-writing skills!

Your goal is not perfection, but merely getting into the habit of writing a litte bit every single day :D

No website, no sign-ups -- Just a community initiative to write using only your own word!

What are the rules? Just Three so far!

#1 - No AI

#2 - No Plagiarizing

#3 - Wordcount for the month should only come from what you write during the month.

What does that mean?

Only words written during November should go towards your Wordcount for the month... but! Feel free to use your 30k words as a continuation of previous writing, or just make it the first 30k words in a longer novel!

Don't think you can write a whole entire 30k word story? Write a series of short stories that total up to 30k!

Not ready to write original works yet? Write a 30k word fanfiction that you can post after the month is over!

Share your writing experience, tips, encouragement, and questions in the #Novella November tag!

---

EDIT, from the tags: Want a progress tracker? Track your progress with TrackBear!

https://trackbear.app/

Don't have a word processor? Use LibreOffice , the free and open-source alternative to Microsoft Word!

Want to organize/storyboard your Novel and don't want to pay a subscription? Try 7writer by Simon Haynes!

Want to be able to listen to your story aloud for proofreading using TTS (text to speech)? Try Balabolka!

Or, create some custom progress / Goal Cards in advance you can fill out as you reach word goals! For ideas and templates, search this blog for "goal cards" :D

Want to do a writing challenge in more than just November? Check out my ideas here for year round challenges to keep you writing consistently! Got feedback? Send it in, I'd love to see everyone's ideas!

---

EDIT 2: I almost forgot to mention, if you are unable to write/type your story, you can also narrate/dictate your story to your preferred recording device!

If you're doing a Recording only and it doesn't automatically generate a transcript, it would obviously be hard to judge the word count -- but you're also working with a lot of obstacles, so I'd say if you're able to complete your story via voice recording from start to finish, you've definitely achieved the goal!

Edit #3: added the title "Novella November 2024 announcement post" to the top to make it more standard with my Ominous October and Drabble December posts (will be updating Outline October shortly) , added "Official Announcement Post 2024" to the tags so people can easily find the monthly events for 2024, and added a bit of bold to the third bullet point in the original post from September 2nd 2024 for emphasis.

[autism-corner]

i ordered some pronoun pins from an etsy shop and they arrived fine and well.... except for a the fact that a month later the same exact pins were delivered to me. again. so ive gotten twice the pins :(

[allfearstofallto]

I FORGOT A COUPLE PEOPLE FOR MY YANDERE HISTORICAL AU!!

[Part 1] [Part 3]

TW: mentions of drugging

Travelling Merchant! Alhaitham who has seen practically every nation twice over, yet always lingers in yours for a bit too long. His ability to document down things quickly and retain information better than most means that he's always ahead of what trends will be happening soon using data and analytics. He sells mostly dresses, fabrics, and jewelery. Things that a commoner like yourself could never afford. But he insists every time that you take some of his stock. A dress here or a necklace there, something to make your already pretty face prettier, even though you tell him that you'd never be able to afford it. He's fuming, seeing red when he observes your parading around the city with someone on your arm, one of the dresses he'd given you hugging your body, you accept his gifts so easily, but don't throw yourself at him?

Mercenary for Hire! Arataki Itto who thinks you look so cute begging on your knees for his protection. You have not much to give in the way of funds, but the loan sharks after your father have set their sights on you and your humble business instead. You heard he's the best of the best and you plead to his good nature to just protect you until their attention falls on someone else. But even after they're gone, he doesn't leave. He assured you that what little gold your provided to pay for his service was enough, yet he's still outside your house every single night. And you can't hire someone else to get rid of him, can you?

(Also) Arranged Husband! Ayato who visited from the nation across the sea. He saw your face once, an innocent looking viscountess, and immediately sent a letter asking for your hand when he returned home. You were wed and sent somewhere entirely different, the complete opposite of what you knew. But Ayato seemed nice. He was always calm and soft spoken, never even raising his voice when he was angry. When he saw that you were still nervous, he always offered you calming tea. But you realized quickly how much you'd been sleeping. How you'd wake up in bed with your husband and not remember when you went to sleep. You constantly felt groggy and your limbs were too heavy. But like clockwork, Ayato would bring you another cup of tea, it'll make you feel better.

[afterglowsainz]

guilty as sin? | oscar piastri

summary: you and oscar can't be together, but that doesn't stop either of you from wanting each other

warnings: drinking, mentions of masturbation

word count: 2k

a/n: this song is my hyperfixation rn! also, i don't write smut (which is not what this is) but i had to include the last part of the fic, the nature of the song forced me to!

everyone and their mother knew that you and oscar liked each other, but things were never that simple between the two of you.

oscar being an f1 driver for mclaren in his second year and you being a pr manager for f1, dating within the workplace was a complete no; besides the fact that it just made things more complicated than they had to be, it was also forbidden by your boss. that and also the fact that the two of you were too proud to be the first one to give in, so neither of you did. it was a bit immature, sure, but it was what it was.

so since you couldn’t be together, the only way to fight the feeling was simply date other people, and you both did that well. for oscar it was easy because he usually just went back to his ex, which made you extremely jealous because she was the only woman you thought you couldn’t compare to, they had years of history, and you were the relatively new girl, how could you stand up against her? easy, you couldn’t, or so you thought. finding someone for you wasn’t hard either, unlike oscar, you didn’t date the same person the whole time because you didn’t have an ex, so you just picked a boy of the month and made oscar jealous, which was quite easy because oscar got jealous of every guy who even looked at your direction.

at this moment, at the after-party of the miami grand prix, it was one of those rare moments where none of you were dating and you were both single, but still, not together. you had to admit you’ve been drinking shots of vodka since you arrived at the place and haven’t stopped since, which made you a bit tipsy but not drunk. you were on your way out of the bathroom when you accidentally slipped on a wet patch at the club’s floor and you had to lean on the person closest to avoid falling.

“oh.” a small shocked sound came out of you. “sorry, i’m sorry.” you apologized to the person next to you, who put his arms around your waist to avoid you from falling.

“it’s okay.” you hear your favorite voice in the world and look up to see his face close to you.

“hey.” you smile.

“hello.” he answers with his beloved australian accent.

“didn’t see you there.” you look at your surroundings, the bathroom was in the dark side of the club and not many people were around

“yeah, i was hiding.” he admits. you nod in understanding.

“alone?” you arch your brow after not seeing any of his friends nearby.

“i just need a second.”

you nod again. oscar can get overwhelmed very easily so you knew what he needed.

“have you been drinking?” he asks now. you avoid his eyes, focusing on the people dancing in front of you.

“yeah.” you admit. “that’s not why i almost fell though, the floor is wet.” he chuckles and nods with a smile. “have you?”

“just a little, not much.” you turn to look at him and it was now him who was avoiding your gaze. “where’s your boyfriend?” he asks.

right. you forgot to tell oscar that you broke up with the last guy you were seeing. it was stupid, really, you just didn’t like the way he dressed, he wore skinny jeans and hoodies most of the time and that irritated you for some reason. he was also not oscar.

“we’re not together anymore.” you say waiting for a reaction which you get.

“oh?” he asks, arching his brow and looking back at you. his expression however, stays the same.

a scary thought crosses your mind and you feel sick almost thinking of it, but now that you thought of it you can’t forget it, so you just ask.

“did you get back with lily?” you wait for what it feels like an eternity for his answer, but it only really takes him about three seconds to respond.

“no, we’re not together.”

you felt like breathing out all the air in your lungs in relief, but you didn’t out of respect.

“nice.” you say instead, which earns oscar another chuckle.

“yeah.” he says simply.

you stand by each other in silence, just watching the people around you not having a single care in the world. like it was a gravitational force pulling you to him, you started getting closer and closer until your hands were touching each other. you were feeling bold that night, bold enough to maybe make the first move. when you felt his finger rubbing against your hands you snap your head to look at him, but before you could talk you hear a male voice interrupting you.

“y/n”. they called you.

at lightning speed, oscar gets away from you and you feel like punching the person who interrupted you. when you turn you see the face of one of your best friends who also happens to work in formula 1.

“just wanted to make sure everything was okay.” he says. “you left a few minutes ago.”

you smile at him like you internally didn’t want to kill him.

“all good.” you answer. “just catching up with oscar here.” you tilted your head towards the australian until your friend finally noticed him.

he looks a bit shocked when he realizes he interrupted you.

“hi mate, how are you?” he asks him, a bit shy, trying to play it cool. oscar just smiles slightly at him.

“all good.” he looks at your friend and then back to you. “well i should get back with them.” he tilts his head towards lando and some of the other drivers.

you couldn’t think of anything fast enough to make him stay, so you just nodded. he said his goodbyes and left you two alone.

“mate!” you finally recriminate your friend and playfully slapped his arm.

the laugh that erupted from him was a mix between amusement and regret.

“i’m sorry!” he apologized, taking you back towards your other friends through the club. “i didn’t know you were together, we were actually worried.”

“that’s fine.” you respond while rolling your eyes. “let’s just drink.”

you spent the next hour forgetting about the world around you and just drinking and dancing with your friends like it was the last night on earth. it was also pretty fair to say that you were already drunk at this point. not embarrassingly drunk, you could still stand on your feet and have a conversation without dragging your words, but you were definitely beyond the point of being sober.

“i have to go to the bathroom again.” you screamed at the ear of your friend and she nodded in understanding.

“do you want me to go with you?” she screamed back at you. you shook your head.

“i won’t take long.” she just nodded and let you go.

this time you weren’t planning on taking as long as it took you last time, you just wanted to go back to your friends as soon as possible to continue having fun. but just like the first time, the only person in the world that you wanted to be with was right there again, next to the bathroom exit and somehow hiding in the shadows, but this time you saw him.

“oscar!” you screamed over the music.

he snaps his head towards your face, always finding you in a room full of people. a smirk appears on his face as you approach him and you can tell by the look of him that he has also been drinking more.

“thought i wouldn’t see you for the rest of the night.” he whispers once you’re close enough.

you take your time to answer, just taking him in.

“hiding again?” you ask.

“too many shots.” he says. “needed to take a minute.”

you bite your lip shamelessly and he notices it, immediately wishing it was his instead. 

“oscar.” you smile and whisper his name.

“y/n.” he whispers back, his eyes fixated on your lips.

you mimic him and lower your eyes to his lips as well. since you were drunk and every ounce of shame left your body long ago, you’re bold enough to touch his chest, your hands traveling all the way to the back of his neck, pulling yourself closer to him.

“oscar.” you whisper again, touching his cheeks, just wanting to feel him. “oscar.”

you felt his arms wrapping around your waist, bringing you as close to him as possible. your face inches away from his.

“y/n.” he whispers again.

you think that is gonna happen, it’s definitely gonna happen right here right now, but everything comes crumbling down when you feel a different pair of arms pulling you away from your waist.

“hey, there you are!” someone exclaims and the connection between you and oscar immediately breaks. “sorry mate, she gets touchy when she’s drunk.” the voice says and you instantly recognize it as one of the friends you came with.

“i’m not drunk!” you defend yourself, facing him with a frown on your face for ruining the moment.

“right.” he says incredulously. “she’s touchy all the time.” this was now directed at oscar.

you felt like screaming at the top of your lungs for having your moment with oscar ruined for the second time in the night, but you controlled yourself, allowing your friend to grab your back and direct you to your friends.

“bye, oscar.” you whisper, waving your hand slightly.

he doesn’t answer back, but you can see the strained smile on his face and the nod he gives you. when you’re far enough, you look at your friend with impotence.

“what the hell was that?” you yell. “didn’t you see i was busy?”

“that was me saving your ass.” he says without major emotion. “you were about to kiss oscar drunk and you and i both know that’s impossible.”

you sighed and crossed your arms like a little girl throwing a tantrum. working in formula 1 was hard, and trying to date in it was even harder, almost impossible.

“is it ever going to be easy?” you ask no one in particular, but your friend answers anyway.

“well, it’s you and oscar, so probably not.” you think about it for a few seconds until he interrupts your train of thought. “come on, we were leaving already.” he says.

you follow your friends to the exit of the club and get into the first uber that’s taking you back to the hotel. the trip doesn’t take long and you just chat with your friend for most of it. once in the hotel you say goodbye to everyone and go up to your room, trying to catch some sleep. 

it shouldn’t be hard to fall asleep considering that you’ve been working all day and you just spend hours at the club, however, there was one thing at the back of your mind that didn’t let you rest. you couldn’t shake the feeling of oscar’s hands in your body back at the club, almost cornering him into the wall, the two of you just feeling each other. you were frustrated for sure, tossing and turning in bed for an hour straight until you couldn’t fight the feeling anymore. 

you bit your lip for a moment, thinking if this was actually appropriate, but soon enough the intrusive thoughts took over your mind and you just think fuck it. 

you touch yourself that night with only one person in your mind, wishing it was him that was making you feel good, knowing that he would make you feel even better; you screamed his name when you climaxed. before you can think of what you just did you decide to go to bed as soon as possible, finally feeling tired enough to sleep.

ten minutes after you went to bed, you missed oscar’s text asking you if you were still awake, which he deleted five minutes after you didn’t answer him.

[blushsturns]

bad boy! matt and librarian! reader 𝜗𝜚

part one ⭑ pushy

description: you meet matt while working at your job at the public library and he can’t help but try and make a move on you.

w/c: 2526

warnings: mentions of weed, cussing, nothing too crazy (yet)

introducing: mb- hcs

he probably shouldn’t be staring as long as he has been, but he just couldn’t help it. you were so fucking pretty he literally couldn’t take his eyes off you. the way your hair flows with one simple movement, the twinkle in your eye when you’re helping patrons, the smile on your face when you’re giving your best customer service. god, your personality seemed absolutely addicting. you were also really fucking pretty. maybe that’s why he was standing here like a fucking stalker, but he just couldn’t help it. he couldn’t take his eyes off you.

he tried to look busy, his fingers drumming along the spines of the books, but he hadn’t read a book since high school and that wasn’t by choice. it was because from where he was standing, he had a great view of you sitting at the service desk, a strand of your hair falling from your high ponytail.

why was he here anyway? oh yeah, that’s right. he’s been waiting 45 minutes for his weed guy to fucking show up, but so far the guy was late, really late. it wasn’t like him to be late, but matt got tired of waiting around and decided to try and occupy his time somehow. he was getting restless waiting in his car and sitting in the parking lot of the library was making him feel like an actual stalker. at least he’d feel like one looking at a pretty librarian like you in the cozy, quiet building.

it’s not that he’s nervous to talk to you. he had decent luck with woman. he’d either take them home, or hook up with one at the parties he’d throw at his house. none of those girls mattered though. he didn’t care for relationships at all. love and all that cheesy bullshit was not something matt cared for. it’s not that he didn’t have time for it; he sure did. he just didn’t really believe in falling in love and the romantic shit. maybe it’s because nobody had been worth his time.

once an elderly woman walked away from the desk and you were available again, he made his way over to the service desk. you were typing something onto your computer, not really paying attention to matt standing in front of you until he cleared his throat to get your attention.

your eyes immediately shot up at him and your face turned apologetic. “i’m so sorry, sir. i was caught up in something. how can i help you?”

god, you were even prettier up close. your cheeks were rosy pink with the lightest makeup applied to your face. your hair was in a tight ponytail with the strands falling onto the sides of your face. you wore a pretty floral dress with a jean jacket, your glasses perched onto your nose. matt had your full attention now and matt had completely forgot what excuse he was going to use to come up here and ask you about.

he was probably lost in a trance at your beauty and staring a little too hard at you and checking you out because she asked again. “sir? can i help you?”

matt wasn’t one to get embarrassed or shy. hell, he made others feel that way. luckily, you seemed oblivious to him checking you out. you had a busy day today, despite the weather being quite shitty outside. every time the weather is awful, you assume people will stay home and not come in, but you were wrong every single time. it was always the complete opposite. luckily, things seemed to die down now.

“oh, yeah. sorry. uh, hey, do you guys have wifi here?” fuck, what a stupid ass question. he ran his fingers through his tousled brunette locks, his eyes staying locked onto yours the whole time.

luckily, you didn’t seem bothered by the question. you were used to people asking you questions that were common sense like ‘what are your hours?’ and ‘do you have books here?’ so the question didn’t annoy you at all. “of course we do. if you pull up your phone, you’ll be able to find our wifi in the settings. no password needed.”

matt nodded his head, understanding your words fully. he licked over his lips before pulling out his phone, which had no notifications from his weed guy. he opened up his settings, noticing there were two network names. one was public, and the other needed a password. he furrowed his eyebrow in confusion and pointed his phone at you. “what’s this about? why do you staff workers get your own wifi? better wifi for the privileged or some shit?”

you laughed at his comment and immediately shook your head. you had to admit, the boy in front of you was very attractive. he wore all black, baggy jeans, a chain around his neck and earrings dangling from his ears. he had a mysterious aura about him that made you slightly intrigued. of course you’d keep it professional. you loved your job and were going to school for library science. everyone at the library were like family and you couldn’t be more proud of your job and the work you’ve done there. also, nobody really comes into the library but the elderly, and children with their parents for story times and fun events.

“no, sir. it’s just easier and more convenient for us staff workers to work on the staff only wifi instead. each individual wifi should work the same.” your cheeks were slightly flushed the more you looked at him. he was really fucking attractive and you couldn’t help but check him out. you’ve only had one boyfriend back in high school, but he cheated on you and you’ve learned to guard your heart since then. it’s been a couple years though and your friends always tried to set you up on dates, but you didn’t care enough for any of them. they weren’t worth your time.

he let out a scoff, shaking his head in disbelief. “that’s not really fair. this wifi is shit.” his phone was not loading properly as he tried to connect to it. maybe his phone was shit, but this was the only excuse he could think of to talk to the pretty girl. he leaned forward with both of his palms rested onto the service desk, his eyes solely focused on you. “ what’s a guy like me gotta do to get on the better working wifi, huh?”

you suddenly felt nervous as he leaned in closer, placing the loose strands of hair over your ear. you placed your glasses down next to you, since you only wear them to read anyway. you couldn’t help but stare at him more intently, feeling your cheeks heat up as his body was leaned in more towards you. you’ve never seen this guy before in the 5 years that you’ve worked there. where did he even come?

“well, i wouldn’t be able to do that.” your cheeks flushed even more. you hated telling him no, but the wifi network was staff only and you always made sure to imply by the rules. “sometimes the signal is a little spotty on the public wifi depending on how much its being used.”

truth is, you didn’t know much about wifi or technology in general besides what you were taught at your job. he didn’t seem to buy anything you were saying. he kept his palms firmly on the desk, titling his head slightly to get a better look at you. “i think you would be able to. you’re just afraid to. am i right?”

he flashed you a small smirk, not being able to take his eyes off you. he could sense you were slightly flustered the way your facial expressions changed. you bit onto your bottom lip, not being able to take your eyes away from him. his blue eyes gazed into yours and you felt your breath hitch in your throat. fuck, he was so pretty. you could tell he was the kind of person who didn’t take no for an answer.

“i’m not afraid. it’s just my job.” you spoke very professional, but he could tell you were getting slightly agitated and didn’t want to have to say no to him.

he wouldn’t stop, leaning in closer now, his palms still pressed against the desk and his eyes locked onto yours. “what if i give you something in return?”

you furrowed your eyebrow up at him in confusion, trying your best to keep your cool. sure, this boy was fucking attractive and intriguing, but this was your job. you tried to be professional, but he was making it hard. “what could you possibly give me?”

he let out a soft chuckle, a sly smirk appearing onto his lips. “how about i give you my number? and if that’s not enough, you can text me when you get off work and we can discuss it further.”

matt didn’t even care about the fucking wifi. he just wanted to show off his charm and possibly get to know the pretty librarian. he was pretty used to getting his way and damn he wanted his way with you.

you let out a soft sigh, but eventually give in. you really didn’t want to keep this up and he probably wouldn’t let you say no anyway. “fine.” you said with another sigh leaving your lips.”but only to get you off my back. not because i want your number.”

you look up at matt who’s grinning ear to ear, getting his way once again. “you say that now, just wait, pretty girl. you’ll be really fucking glad you had this conversation with me today to get my number in the end.” his palms still rested onto the desk, now flashing you a sly smirk. “i promise.”

“don’t make promises you can’t keep.” you said dryly, pulling out a small piece of paper and pen off the desk and scribbling down the wifi password to him. before you hand it to him, you look around the area to make sure nobody has spotted your interaction with him. you didn’t wanna get in trouble. luckily, there was nobody around, thank goodness. you had to admit, this entire interaction excited you, but you had your walls up and made sure not to show that you were easy to get. you were strong and smart. you knew not to mess with bad boys and this boy? you could tell he was trouble.

you slid the piece of paper to him and he glances down at it for a second before slipping it in his pocket. he didn’t seem that interested in the piece of paper with the wifi password on it. that’s not even what he cared about. he just wanted to get to know you.

you hand him another piece of paper and he takes it from you, your hands brushing against each other for a moment which causes a spark of electricity to run throughout your veins. you let out a soft gasp, looking up at him immediately to see if he noticed the same sensation. he did feel it, his smirk widening as he takes the piece of paper and pen. he leans down to scribble his name and phone number on the piece of paper before handing it back to you.

he was smirking the entire time, seeming very pleased at the fact that he gave you his phone number. your heart was beating out of your chest as you grab the piece of paper from him and this time, you made sure not to have any contact with his hand. last thing you want is to have this guy invade your brain and make you excited to talk to him or maybe see him again.

you look down at the piece of paper that he handed you, seeing that his name is “matt” and his phone number underneath it. “thanks, i guess? if i even decide to text you.” you flashed him an innocent smile, placing the piece of paper close next to you.

“oh you will. that’s a promise.” he pulled his hands away from the desk, now placing them in his hoodie pockets.

“don’t make any promises you can’t keep, matt.” you said his name out loud for the first time, now knowing it and being able to match a name to a face.

he could see your name on your lanyard that you wear to work. he stared at it for a moment which made your cheeks feel warm knowing in order to look at the lanyard, he would have to look at your chest. his eyes averted from your chest and back up into your eyes, a gleam of excitement passing through his expressions. “i look forward to getting to know you, pretty librarian.”

even though he knew your name, he still called you that nickname that made your cheeks flush even more. you silently wished in your head that you had wore makeup today so that it would cover some of the warmth on your cheeks, but it was no use. he could tell you were affected by him and he was loving every single second of it.

before you could reply back to him, your eye caught the attention of another patron behind him who was waiting to be helped. he noticed your eyes had averted behind him and he turned around to see that you two weren’t alone anymore. at that same moment, his phone buzzed, signaling his weed guy was finally there and asking where the hell he was.

“text me later, pretty.” he flashed you a playful wink before giving you one more glance and turning on his heel to walk away from the desk.

this entire interaction left you warm, confused, and a little intrigued. the piece of paper already felt like it was burning a hole in your pocket, but you couldn’t let it. you were strong. there was no way you’d be able to fall for a bad boy, or anyone for that matter.

you tried to pay attention the rest of your shift, but you couldn’t. all you could think about was matt and how he leaned against the desk with his pretty blue eyes on you, practically persuading you to give him your number. he consumed your brain, making you lose focus and stutter on your words to patrons that came through. should you text him? or was it even worth the risk? when you had a moment alone without helping anyone, your fingers ghosted over the piece of paper. would you even see him again?

matt walked outside to meet his weed guy, feeling like he was floating on air. success: he had given the pretty librarian his phone number. now all he needed was for her to text him.

he was intrigued by you, wanting to continue the conversation and get to know you. even if you were rough around the edges and a little sassy, he didn’t care.

you were special. he could tell and he would make damn sure he didn’t fuck it up.

taglist-

@sturnshood @strangelife122 @jessie-essie @giveheavensomehell @rina3476 @chrissturnioloslvt @sturnslutz @forgottxen @matthewsturnsgf @christmastreecake @rinahasspots @222wall876 @chris-hallelujah @izzylovesmatt @strniloslvts @oopsiedaisydeer

a/n- thank you so much for reading! i had fun writing this and will be continuing it when i have the time and when the ideas come to me. if you have any ideas, wanna talk about bad boy! matt x librarian! reader, or just wanna talk in general, don’t hesitate to send me a message!

- nessa ღ

[fairyysoup]

it will come back

part two

a.k.a. sever the blight (eddie's version)

pairing(s): werewolf!eddie munson x fem!milkmaid!reader

summary: As May Day approaches, you find yourself running into Eddie, and succumbing to his charms, more and more.

cw: smut, heavy petting, fingering, frottage, denied orgasm, public sex, getting caught, alcohol consumption (both eddie and reader), a bit of humiliation, teasing, tons of flirting, eddie munson's Big Meaty Claws, jealousy (by reader), eddie being a flirtatious shit all around, slight enemies to lovers beat here, some kind of historical fantasy period, fairytale au, descriptions of scars, mentions of abuse, reader is a servant to an abusive master

a/n: Happy May! I wrote this in a complete stupor and woke up and it was almost 8.0k words, so there will be a part three. I also wanted to get this done yesterday, but that's not how the cookie crumbles. Alas.

The lyrics that Eddie sings in this are from a traditional English folk song, commonly called "As I Walked Through the Meadow." There are variations on the lyrics, but this is the version I used here.

MY WORKS ARE ALL 18+ MINORS DNI

The man from the creek is being thrown out of the tavern in the center of town.

You know because you’ve been watching since he went inside. Except, if anyone were to ask, you’d say you’re simply watching the ripples on the mud puddles on the dirt road in front of the building. They’re fascinating, you’d insist. They say you can see your future in them.

You’d noticed him going in as you were stepping out of the haberdashers. You knew it was him from the wine red of his blouse– it’s a rich color, like you’ve never seen on a garment worn by anyone in town, and certainly not by someone claiming to come from the woods. The last time you saw him, nearly a month ago now, you forgot to ask him where he got something so richly woven and colored, in such seemingly good repair. You contented yourself with a single lie: you didn’t want to know. 

You also figured that you would likely never see him again. That this so-called Eddie Munson was probably better off disappearing back into the woods and staying there. You’d never seen him in town before, and you certainly didn’t expect to see him there any time soon. He doesn’t exactly fit in with the rest of the townsfolk; people who work the land, who own it, who sow it. His rich red wine doesn’t fit into the bland suedes and dull grays of your neighbors. 

No– no, with his wild, curly hair and bright, rosy cheeks, he definitely doesn’t look like anyone who belongs in Havensfield. He belongs in a storybook. He belongs in a fairytale you tell to little children, to send them to sleep with something larger than life in their minds. Just like you haven’t been able to sleep a wink without thinking about him and his troublesome smile and sparkling eyes first. 

It’s as if he has you under some sort of spell, unable to move on but remaining steadfastly in place with your mind only revolving around him. You figured it was probably best to spend the coin he gave you and get it out of your system, so maybe you can get rid of the one physical thing that reminded you of his existence.

But here he is, in the flesh and very alive, and being tossed into the mud puddle you had been gazing into, spraying droplets of dirty water off in every direction. A cacophony of laughter rings out from the open door of the tavern– a barkeep angrily wipes his hands on his apron, snarls something at Eddie, and disappears back into the building, the door slamming shut behind him.

The town has erected a maypole in the square for the May Day celebration in just a few days. The marketplace is normally hectic during the festival. Shopkeepers will set up their stalls, the place will be decorated with garlands of flowers, and for days at a stretch one can hardly get their errands done for the amount of chaos going on in the place. That’s why you did your shopping today, rather than waiting for the festivities to begin.

You didn’t expect this.

You haven’t moved from your spot in front of the haberdasher’s. You don’t know if you should– you look this way and that, wondering if anyone is going to approach him, or if everyone else instinctively gives him a wide berth. The people on the street continue about their business like they haven’t seen him, like he isn’t there. You wonder if it’s some unseen force of nature that keeps them away. Does some magic spell exist to make him undetectable to anyone but you? Or are you just the only one stupid enough to get close?

He just sort of lays there in the mud, staring up at the sky. You assume he’s drunk. Why else would he have been thrown out of the tavern? Drinking them dry, getting unruly, starting fights… Yes, you should go on about your business. 

Your hand fists in your skirt, the color of barleycorn. Such a drab color when compared to his deep red, like the flow of blood from a wound. Just as you had feared, it draws you in like a moth to a flame. You lift your skirts and step carefully across the muddy town square, until your feet toe the edge of the puddle he lays in. 

“Do you… need help?” you ask when you peer down at him. From this angle, his eyelashes fan across his cheekbones in long arches, fluttering like fairy wings. 

“My Lovely Lady of the Creek!” He croons wistfully up at you when you pass into his field of vision. “We must stop meeting this way.” 

“Which way is that?”

“With me on my back in a bunch of water.” He smiles at you treacherously, in that way he does. Like he’s privy to a joke that you’re completely unaware of.

“Well, are you just going to lay there like a dead man in the road? Or would you like help?” Your hands are on your hips, the small basket for your purchases wiggling precariously on your wrist. 

“You really should be more discerning about who you offer to help,” he lectures as he heaves himself up to sit. Muddy water sloshes up towards your shoes, and you scamper back before they can get wet. “Lest I begin to get the wrong impression.” 

“I don’t recall ever offering you help before,” you point out. 

“Right,” Eddie says after a moment, his eyes sweeping along the road. He looks unsure, as if he doesn’t know what to ask for, if he wants anything at all. “You… could help me over to the well?” 

Your eyes follow his to the well in the center of the square. You shrug, and then brandish your hand at him. 

Eddie looks at it thoughtfully for a moment before placing his hand into yours. His hand engulfs yours in warmth, his long fingers stretching up and around your wrist. A flush bursts beneath your skin from where his touch hits, spreading up your arm and into your chest.

You’re going to catch fire, you’re sure of it.

Instead, you just help him to his feet, trying not to slip in the mud, yourself. Eddie staggers, sways back towards the porch of the tavern. You lunge forward to catch him before he can fall over again, and you snatch him around the waist without much thought. His arm plops down onto your shoulder, and your basket bats against his hip, the contents shifting inside.

You’re so close now. He smells like pine and whiskey, and his body is warm. So warm that you’re surprised he isn’t sick in bed. 

“How much did you drink?” you ask him, your voice choked as you heave him towards the well. You don’t want to think about his body pressed against yours, his arm hot around your shoulders. He’s looking down at you with an impassioned gaze that you don’t want to match. You fear that if you look up into his face, you will. 

“No more than usual,” he murmurs. His hand reaches out and grabs the stone ring of the well once you get him to it. He kneels on the step of it, starting to look a little green in the face. 

“You smell like the tavern floor,” you tell him frankly, raising your hand to push his hair away from his face. 

“Well, I was just laying in a bunch of piss and shit, so.” Eddie raises his head and gazes up at you, wide-eyed, when you press your hand to his forehead. 

“And you’re much too hot,” you assess, watching his eyes flutter at your appraisal. “Don’t you dare get sick in the well. I have to drink out of that.”

“I need water,” he grumbles, and pulls away from your hand. He tries to stand, and fails.

“Stay,” you tell him firmly, planting a hand on his shoulder. Eddie pouts, watching as you place your basket beside him and step up to the well to fetch him the bucket yourself. 

Like a child who’s just been given a present, Eddie’s eyes fall to your basket. “What’s this?”

“My shopping,” you grunt with the effort of cranking the wheel to lift the bucket from the well. 

“Ooh– stockings?” 

You turn to glance at him, and see that he’s lifted the cloth from the basket to peek at the contents inside. He’s pinching your new stockings between his two fingers, pulling them out with a gleeful expression on his face.

You could kill him. “Put those back,” you hiss, letting go of the handle of the wheel. The crank spins backward, and down in the well, the bucket hits the water again with a loud, wet splash.

“Silk stockings, no less,” Eddie continues, ducking away from your swiping hand as he begins running the smooth hosiery over his knuckles. He seems to have gotten his second wind– no longer staggering, nor looking green in the face, he scampers around the well while you chase him. “Now how could a milkmaid afford such finery? It couldn’t be… no, I shant say–” 

“Give it to me now,” you snarl at him, rounding the well after him. You hadn’t wanted him to see them– hadn’t wanted anyone to see them. It’s not something that you could have gotten yourself, on your own pay. The Master or Mistress would assume that you’d stolen the money, and punish you for it. Obviously, any stranger seeing them would be improper.

And Eddie… Well, he knows exactly how you got your hands on them.

“Could it be… a silver coin?” He giggles like an impish little sprite, his feet working faster than his mind. “Given to you by a handsome, charming, mysterious stranger?” 

Eddie turns to look at you, holding the silken fabric up to his cheek to feel its softness. The sight of the gesture, him pressing his cheek against your undergarment, makes you see red. 

“You little demon–” You lunge for him, but he jerks away, barrel rolling across the opening of the well somehow without managing to fall in. He lands on the other side with a noisy plop, laughing hysterically, and you continue rounding the well to get to him. “Your hair is unsightly and you smell like dirt and you’re as vain as you are vexing and I would rather try to climb the maypole than call you charming!” 

“Well, you’re correct on most accounts,” he tells you, still trying to slow his laughter. Eddie lifts the cloth on your basket, still containing a bread roll and a new wooden comb, and begins carefully folding the silk stockings into a neat bundle. He tucks them back into the basket primly, while continuing, “But I would love to see you try to climb a maypole. Mine has been known to be good for such uses–”

“You’re despicable.” You snatch the basket away from him and step away from the well, turning your back to him without a goodbye. 

“Maybe so,” Eddie replies from behind you. “But you’re still curious, aren’t you?”

You stop. You shouldn’t, but you do, and you know it’s a mistake the minute you turn and see him already standing, not swaying in the slightest, and beginning to crank the wheel of the well to fetch his own water. 

With a scowl, you watch his arm work the wheel until the bucket rears up over the lip of the well, and he lifts it onto the edge. He glances at you out of the corner of his eye, like he expected you to have walked away, and he smirks. “Ohhhh, she’s curious. You know what they say about curiosity.” 

Your skin prickles as you’re uncomfortably reminded of your last meeting with Eddie. “You’re much too fond of your idioms.”

“They’re idioms for a reason,” he replies frankly. With the water bucket steady on the edge of the well, he pinchest the front of his blouse and begins untucking the tails from his trousers. 

“What are you doing?” you snap, appalled, as he lifts the hem of his blouse to expose his belly.

He pauses, looking at you dubiously. “I have to wash my shirt.”

You bluster, “In front of the whole town?”

“Who’s looking?”

Who, indeed? You finally think to take in your surroundings, and you notice that the town square has cleared since Eddie was thrown out of the tavern. Aside from the occasional passerby, no one is lingering, and certainly no one is watching Eddie as he peels the muddy fabric from his skin. 

“You’re the only person in this town who deigns to speak to me. I thank you for that,” Eddie says, not unkindly. “But you should know that it makes you a rose among thorns. That isn’t necessarily a good thing.”

“How is that not a good thing?” you ask, feeling his eyes rake over you just before he pulls his shirt over his head. You see a flash of pale skin, and avert your eyes so swiftly it nearly makes you dizzy.

“Roses tend to be picked,” he tells you simply, as if it’s obvious. “Careful who you show your colors to.”

Your face heats against your will, while your eyes remain locked on the building across the way and not on him. At least, not until your curiosity wins out, and you steal a glance at him. 

Eddie dunks his dirty blouse in the bucket, splashing water down onto the stone step at the base of the well. The muscles of his arms flex with the work, and his hair spills over pale shoulders, rosy at the collarbones. He has pictures drawn on his skin with black ink– mythical creatures you learned about as a child, which denote power and magic. Surrounding the images on his skin are scars, old enough that they’ve gone pale, but their raised appearance indicates that he’s seen his fair share of danger. Hair trails down his chest and to  the curve of his stomach, then disappears beneath the line of his trousers. Your eyes trace the trail of it, lingering on his waistband as you wonder how far down it goes. 

He must feel your eyes on him, because he glances up at you. You immediately rip your eyes away, but it’s too late. He’s already seen you looking– seen you staring. 

Eddie grins, his eyes lighting up with mischief. “If it pleases you to look, then look.”

“I wasn’t… I wasn’t looking,” you say, with more than a hint of pride, turning your nose up a bit for good measure. 

“Of course,” Eddie muses, a wicked smirk still on his face. “And neither was I.” 

He meets your eye with a heated gaze that makes goosebumps break out across your skin. His eyes are two black coals, burning at you from just a few feet away. They slowly move up and down your body, until he sets his jaw and turns back to the bucket. He lifts the red blouse from the water and wrings it out, casting droplets of water down his forearms.

You watch them travel along his pale skin, your eyes tracing the blue veins and sinewy muscles of his arms. And that’s when you notice it– the cloth tied around his wrist.

It’s pale pink. It has a slight brocade pattern to the weave. It’s one that your Mistress had no use of, and when she decided she didn’t want the cloth for anything, you took and dyed it yourself with rose petals, and turned it into a blanket for your bed.

It’s the same cloth that you tied to the injured leg of the wolf in your dream, all those weeks ago. But it wasn’t a dream, or it couldn’t have been– the end of that very same pink blanket is still frayed from the tear of the fabric.

“Where did you get that?” you ask him sharply, marching forward. He startles, drawing back just a bit, his eyes glancing you up and down in alarm.

“Get what?” he says coolly, though his manner doesn’t reflect his tone. He’s backing away from you, holding up his hands like you mean to attack.

“This.” Far too bold for your own good, you snatch his wrist in your hand. Eddie gazes down his nose at you as you yank his wrist up near your face, twisting until the pink brocade glints in the overcast light of late April. “Where did you get this cloth?” 

“In the woods,” he says simply. 

“This is from my bed,” you hiss at him, your eyes narrowing as your hand tightens on his arm. Beneath his overheated skin, his pulse pounds against your fingers. You feel it like the beating of a thousand drums. “I don’t believe you. Where did you get it?” 

“I told you,” Eddie repeats slowly. “I found it hanging from a tree. Thought it was pretty, so I kept it.” His face betrays no emotion now, almost strategically so. Where alarm once was, there is nothing. No hint of hesitance, or mischief, or cunning. Just a blank slate that you have no way of reading. 

Your eyes flick between his face and his arm, trying to connect the dots. That’s when you notice the mark as well– among the otherwise pale, older scars that riddle his torso and arms is a long, jagged gash on his bicep. It arcs across his skin and appears to have been from a deep wound. It’s raised over and scarred, but still bright in color. New.

You’re wondering if your mind is playing tricks on you. It’s improbable that the scar on his arm is the one you patched on the wolf a month ago. You refuse to believe such things; you don’t believe in wolf-men, in fairytales, in silly superstitions.

You release his arm. You still don’t believe him– not when he so quickly went from being startled, to suddenly showing no emotion at all. You don’t trust him in the slightest. It seems to you like he’s hiding something, but you don’t know what. You don’t believe he’s anything other than a man. You can’t honestly say that you believe he’s evil, or that he means you harm, but you still wouldn’t lay your life down to fend for his honor.

And that cloth. You would bet your life that the fabric wrapped around his wrist came from your bed, dyed by your own hand, tied around the wounded leg of a wolf on the last full moon. But you can’t dispute that what he says is true. So you step back, and you fix him with a steely-eyed gaze that you know would make even the roughest of men shake in their boots.

“Good day, Mr. Munson,” you say, and he looks surprised that you even remembered his name. “I hope that I never see you again.”

“Making a wish like that is unwise,” he replies mildly, turning back to the bucket that he has perched on the rim of the well. “Unless you have a coin to toss in the well for it. Silver, maybe?” 

Your cheeks burn hot, and you turn away from him. He infuriates you so much. You can’t recall a time when a man affected you so badly. 

“Right. Because you spent it,” he observes, taking your silence as a quiet relent. “I’ll sleep well knowing that my coin was spent on a pair of beautiful stockings. Excellent craftsmanship, by the way. The weave is immaculate. Feels like spun gold.”

“Go to Hell,” you mutter, finally turning away from him, for good this time. 

“As long as I know you’ll think of me when you wear them,” he tells you as you walk away, “I’ll die a happy man.”

You pause. For a moment, you think of turning back to him, telling him to shove that exact thought down his stupidly pretty gullet. But you don’t. Thankfully, you have the reserve and the self respect to set your shoulders and leave him there, rinsing his soiled blouse there on the edge of the well.

You still didn’t ask him how he got a blouse so fine. You doubt that he would tell you the truth even if you did. All you know is that he stays with you, haunting you, rolling through your mind the way he rolled across the mouth of the well, until your hand lands on the gate to your Master’s property.

You can’t afford to have him occupying your thoughts. You can’t afford to be so distracted– you don’t even want to think about what may happen if the Master learns that you’re on your way to being smitten with someone. Someone young and beautiful and, from what you can tell, not running a farm with indentured servants on it.

And when exactly did you go from wanting him to disappear into the woods, to being smitten with him?

On May Eve, you get just enough of your chores done for the Mistress to not find any excuse for you not to attend the festivities. With your hands tight on a woven basket, you set off with a group of young milkmaids from down the lane, bearing torches, to collect flowers from the meadows and woods. 

Bringing in the May is one of your favorite customs, mostly because it’s practiced by the young people of the town. You don’t have to worry about being watched by the town elders. There’s an air of being chosen by someone; the more popular girls in town get flowers laid on their doorsteps in abundance. You’ve never been left flowers, but each year you hold out hope that someone, anyone, will leave them for you. A gesture– you’re wanted. 

There’s music in the air. Groups of young men and women laugh and dance, and the meadows are dotted with the little blooms of fire at the ends of torches as flowers are gathered. You’ve already indulged in a certain amount of floral spring wine and honey cakes, lulling you into a sweetly tipsy, giggly mood. There’s magic in the air– you can taste it in the humidity, the moonshine, the salt of sweat and earth.

“There aren’t enough flowers in the meadow this year,” one of the girls in your group complains, tromping through the high grass. 

“This isn’t the only meadow in Havensfield, Victoria,” says another. 

“I’ve seen more growing by the trees,” you offer, holding out your basket for one girl to toss a few measly primrose blooms in.

The other girls stop. You look around in the low torchlight at the appalled expressions on their faces. 

“You can’t just… go into the woods,” the one named Victoria objects. “There’s… there’s fairies. And wolf-men.” 

“Oh, please.” You roll your eyes while the other girls balk. “You can’t honestly tell me that you believe those old wive’s tales. You know the elders only tell those stories to keep us from going into the woods to fuck.” 

A few snickers rise up with the smoke from the torch. “It’s true, I saw Katherine Plack sneaking through the woods with Scotty Raker two nights ago,” says a short girl beside Victoria, nodding sagely.

“And what were you doing in the woods, Hyacinth?” the girl holding the torch says, slugging Hyacinth on the shoulder. 

The girls dissolve into laughter, while you suck on your lower lip and gaze toward the trees. It can’t be that dangerous, if Eddie claims to come from in there… somewhere. You imagine a cozy little cottage in the woods with a well beside it, tucked away, hidden from town. You imagine him chopping the wood to make it, himself. You imagine his lean frame and strong hands holding an ax, the drawings on his skin highlighted in the filtered sun through the trees as he swings the blade–

“I’m going to go see,” you announce abruptly, your voice nearly cracking. You’re nodding to yourself, looking like an idiot while you fumble to pick the basket up and set it on your hip. “Yep. That’s what I'm going to do. You all can stay here if you want.” 

“But, there’s no light,” Victoria insists, pulling her hair back away from her face with a condescending expression.

“Moon’s almost full, I can see just fine,” you snap back. Honestly, what does it matter to her if you go into the woods? “I’ll be back.”

Hyacinth calls something about “girding your loins” after you, but you’re too far away to really pay it any mind. The grass grows taller by the trees, and you hop over the creek into a wide bed of bright yellow marigolds. They wiggle in the slight spring breeze, lit with just enough moonshine for their color to show even in the dark.

“Beat that, Victoria,” you mumble as you set the basket on the ground. Methodically, you begin picking them, choosing the biggest blooms, the ones with the most immaculate petals. You’ll decorate your small cabin with them, and fashion garlands for the town square with the rest. 

As you wander over to another bed to collect some more blooms, you hear singing, following the tune being played by the pan flute across the meadow. It’s an old folk song that most of the people in town would know, and you hum along mindlessly as you pick the flowers at your knees. 

“As I was a-walking to take the fresh air, The flowers all blooming and gay, I heard a young damsel so sweetly a-singing, Her cheeks like the flowers in May.” 

It’s a young man’s voice, coming from somewhere in the trees, low and rich, and quiet enough that you don’t think it’s meant to be heard by anyone else across the meadow. Tipsy, you smile to yourself, not thinking to look for the source of the voice, but just appreciating the sound as it travels on the breeze.

“Said I, ‘Pretty maiden, and how came you here, In the meadows this morning, so soon?’ The maid she replied, ‘Why, to gather some May, For the trees they are all in full bloom.’”

As your fingers stroke along soft flower petals, humming along under your breath, you glance over your shoulder towards the meadow, where flaming torches dance like woodland spirits in the night. Laughter follows the music and the raucous cheering of the other groups of May-goers, dancing and collecting their own greenery and flowers.

The rich, velvety voice filters through the trees, ever quieter, but even closer than before. You look up just in time to see the source of the voice move just beyond the treeline, and then he appears, leaning against the trunk of a great pine, close enough that you can see the deep wine red of his blouse, and the wicked smirk on his lips.

“I said, ‘Pretty maiden, shall I go with you Through the meadows to gather some May?’ ‘Oh no, sir,’ she said, ‘I would rather refuse, For I fear you would lead me astray.’”

You could swear that Eddie’s eyes glow nearly red at you in the moonlight, his teeth sharper than you’ve ever seen them as he grins at you. The lace at his collar is untied, disheveled, falling open to reveal one of the inked pictures on his skin and his dark chest hair. 

“Climb any maypoles today, princess?” he asks you after a moment of your staring at him, like you’ve seen a ghost.

The question sets your skin aflame. You sit back on your heels, giving him a caustic expression, despite the way your heart flutters at the sight of him. It’s the eve of May, your lurid mind thinks, tracing his outline among the trees. Anything could happen. 

“I thought I told you I never wanted to see you again, Mr. Munson,” you retort, imagining that he won’t be affected by your words in the slightest.

He isn’t. “Ah-ah, you said you hoped that you wouldn’t. But you didn’t toss a coin in the well, therefore, your wish was never going to be granted. Rules of nature, sweetheart.” He wags a finger at you. “And enough with that ‘Mr. Munson’ business. You remember my name, don’t you?” 

“Eddie,” you say quietly, not sure why you feel so shy when you do. Probably because, up until now, you’ve been firm in your false belief that you’d never give him the time of day. It seems it all depends on whether or not you’ve seen him shirtless, first.

“Good girl. I knew you were paying attention.” Eddie smirks at you then, sowing the seeds of your detriment right there. He stands poised, and then bows low as he says, “So, pretty maiden, shall I go with you through the meadows to gather some May?”

You consider quoting the song right back to him, but you figure that it’s probably what he expects you to do. So instead, you sigh and shrug your shoulder at him. “As long as you promise not to crush them in your big meaty hands.” 

Eddie’s mouth drops open in shock, an impressed smile curling his mouth up at the corners. He barks a laugh. “That’s not how the song goes.” 

“Well, the song ends with them kissing and then getting married in the morning,” you point out, with a roll of your eyes. “So, forgive me for not adhering to the lyrics.”

“Also, my hands are not meaty.” He smirks at you ruefully, his face half bathed in moonlight. He leans towards you, “I’ll tell you what is, though–”

“If you’re about to mention your maypole again, I’m leaving,” you snap, glaring at him in the dark. He snickers, but says nothing, instead preferring to start gathering marigolds. “Just how did you manage to find me again, anyways? There are hundreds of people wandering the meadows tonight. How is it that you keep managing to run into me and no one else?”

“Oh, I can sniff you out in a heartbeat, princess. It’s one of my many talents.” The flowers are dwarfed by his hands– his long fingers pinch the stems delicately, offset by the size of the silver rings he wears on them. You admire them, watching them glint in the moonlight, the tendons in his wrist flexing and his skin pulling tight over veins and knuckles. The heavy metal clicks as he works. You’re about to comment on them, when you watch what said fingers are doing with the flowers.

He takes one, and loops the stem around another, creating a loose knot that lets the tails sit alongside each other. He repeats the process slowly, building a chain of bright marigold blooms, while he hums idly and shoots you a heavy look from beneath his lashes. “Ah. So you’re not afraid to look, now. That’s good to know.” 

You tear your eyes away. The tips of your ears burn with embarrassment at having been caught staring, yet again. “Have you any shame?” 

“Not a hair of it.” 

Eddie holds up a finished crown of flowers, grinning at you. He places the circlet of blooms on your head, and as he draws back, tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear. 

“And I crowned her my Queen of sweet May,” he sings at you, more of a coo than truly carrying a tune. “The most beautiful one in all the land, of course.”

“From princess to queen,” you muse, trying not to show how quickly your heart is melting. “I’m sure you must think that endears you to me.”

“I’d like to think so,” Eddie admits, leaning ever closer to you. You can see the reflection of the moon in his eyes, glinting vaguely red– you can smell honeyed wine on his breath. His voice drops even lower in register, until it’s just barely above a whisper. “I hope so. Tell me I’m wrong, sweetheart.” 

“I think,” you murmur just as quietly, letting your eyes drop indulgently to his parted lips. They’re so plush and inviting, they’re right there. You need only let yourself bend an inch and you could kiss him. You breathe in, “I think…”

Your hand falls softly to the basket of flowers beside you.

“I think your hands are egregiously meaty.”

You lift a handful of marigolds and smash them into his mouth, making him splutter and fall backwards. You cackle, flinging yourself in the opposite direction, scrambling up to run away. You swear you got some of them in his mouth; you can hear him coughing and spitting them at the same time as he laughs.

“I’ll get you for that!” You can hear him leaping up to chase you, and the prospect makes your heart pound in your chest, your blood rushing hot beneath your skin. You’re sure that it will be easy for him to catch you– you’re hoping for it, really.

You duck between the pines and into the trees. “Come sniff me out then, if you must!” 

You hear his laugh from behind you, almost sounding dark and menacing. Your hair stands on end, but your feet carry you through the trees, running even though you feel as though you’ve been struck by lightning. 

His feet pound the earth behind you, his laughter dancing on the breeze and combining with the music from the meadow. Beyond the trees, your contemporaries dance and make merry with the coming of summer. Here, in the woods, you run from some indeterminate end– one that you have an inkling of, like the barest traces of a memory, but you can’t quite make it out yet. 

Eddie’s hands snatch you by the waist, and you yelp. Heat bursts beneath your skin where he touches you through your bodice, whirling you around until your back hits the trunk of a tree. 

Your breath catches in your throat, heart pounding, chest heaving. Eddie is so close, and the air around you buzzes with energy and magic, as if the very trees themselves were singing. 

“You little minx,” Eddie muses, his voice rumbling low like thunder. “Just need me to chase you, is that it?” His eyes truly do shine red, you don’t think you’re imagining it– each time they catch the light of the moon, or a torch burning far off in the meadow, you see a glimpse of that subtle iridescent red of a forest creature in the dark glinting back at you. 

“I think you’re a spirit,” you whisper, the words light and airy in your throat as you try to regain your breath. “I think you’re one of the Fey. You can’t be real.”

Eddie has you caged in against the tree– one hand on the trunk beside your head, one on your hip. You don’t want to be anywhere else. “Oh, I’m very real, sweetheart. Shall I show you how much?”

His forefinger traces the line of your cheekbone, down the side of your face, to your jaw. You want it bad. You want him and anything he’ll give you– throw you to the ground, take you as prey, the lot of it. You won’t be married in the morning, but tonight all things are possible. 

You turn your face and drag your lips across his knuckles, half-gone in your desire. You barely even register the look on his face; eyes wide, lips parted in awe, like he’s never seen anything like you before. Like you confound him as much as he confounds you. A match made in heaven. 

Eddie catches your jaw in his fingertips, holding you like you’re made of glass, and he crashes down into you. He tastes of cherry wine, as rich and deep as the color of his blouse, which you fist in your hand to tug him closer. 

“Please,” you whisper against his lips. It falls like a sigh into his mouth, and his hand tightens on your hip momentarily before gathering your skirts. The fabric flutters as he pulls at them, tugging them up just enough to disappear beneath the hem. 

Your breath quickens. His hand makes contact with your thigh and you think, Oh fuck, this is really happening. 

Eddie’s finger’s pause on the breadth of your thigh, just above your knee. His forefinger strokes downward, passing over your garter strip and feeling the weave of the silk before he cracks a self-satisfied smirk at you. 

“Nice stockings. Get them recently?”

Your eyes narrow with false gravity, your nose scrunching. “I’ll kill you.”

His smirk stretches into a grin, and he scoffs a little laugh that flutters across your lips. It feels like a kiss. “Dying between the legs of my beautiful Queen of May sounds like a good way to go, actually.”

His hand drags hotly up your outer thigh, and the touch nearly burns you to your core. Eddie’s thumb presses against the skin just at the juncture of your leg, and you press your lips together to bite back a moan from coming out. Everything between your legs is tense, and pulsing, and turning feverish the longer he just pets at your skin and tugs your leg up to rest against his hip. 

His fingertips dig into the curve of your ass and the moan escapes you; high pitched, needy, embarrassing. You’re hot all over and you feel like you might die if he doesn’t touch you– you have a mind to tell him so, too, when Eddie dips his head and bites at your earlobe. 

He dips his finger between your folds, tracing one forefinger up the seam of your cunt, and you swear you could nearly scream. Flesh that is too hot and too sensitive bursts alive with feeling. His finger is drenched, your legs shake just from one touch. Is this what it always feels like?

“Oh, baby,” he coos as you whimper into his neck. His lips move slowly along your skin. Each move of his finger, just teasing you gently, dragging so slowly over your clit that your back arches and you keen long and high. “That’s it. This is what you needed, isn’t it?” 

You let out a pitiful squeak, nodding your head like you may explode rather than answer. He strokes you firmly and then gently, watching your face, studying your expressions. It’s so much and it’s not enough, not nearly enough to settle the throbbing in your core. 

“Please…” It’s the only thing you can come up with, the word bubbling up out of your throat before you can make it make sense. “Please.”

“‘Please’ what?” Eddie tilts his head. His pale skin nearly glows in the moonlight, the red in his eyes shining for a split second. “Please… here?”

His finger circles your entrance, prodding but never quite dipping in all the way. It’s just enough to make you see stars, just enough to turn you nearly insane. 

“Oh my God,” you cry out, fingers digging into his shoulders and gripping at his neck. 

Eddie hums, letting you feel the gentle touch for a few more seconds before it’s gone. You could cry. There are tears in your eyes– you could sob, throw a tantrum. You don’t think it would make him change his mind either way.

“My hands are too big, though, aren’t they?” Eddie shakes his head, mirroring your pout in a condescending manner that makes you want to smack him. Then he cracks a smirk, and you know he’s just being mean. “Mhm. Big and meaty. Too much for a sweet little thing like you. I wouldn’t want to break–”

You snatch his wrist through your skirts and bring his hand back between your legs. No preamble, no begging– this time he hisses, and you sigh with relief as you grind down onto not just his fingers, but his entire hand. 

“You’re not disappearing on me this time, Munson,” you nearly growl at him. Your tongue lavishes his skin, his long neck providing just the right amount of area for you to indulge in. 

“I would have stayed,” he gasps out when your teeth find a particularly tender spot under his jaw. “I’d have stayed if I knew you wanted me to.”

“I want you to,” you say, and you wonder if you’ll regret it in the morning. But the morning seems so far away right now, and his hand feels so good between your legs, and you don’t quite understand how you could regret anything that makes him look at you like that.

“Don’t– You can’t talk to me like that,” he whispers, and his eyes shine like rubies in the night as he gazes at you in awe. “You should know better than that.”

You do know better. But still, you tell him, “Stay,” and it’s like a dam has been broken. You know that you’ll never get rid of him now, and you don’t really want to. You want him to make a home in your chest, right against your heart. You want him to always touch you like this. You want him to always look at you with that same reverent gaze, like he’s just looked upon divinity.

Eddie crowds between your legs and his hand leaves you, but his thigh remains in its place. His leg presses tight to your core, the rough fabric of his trousers not nearly as warm as the touch of his hand, but just as erotic. You rock forward mindlessly against his thigh as he takes your face in his hands– one wet with your arousal– and kisses you breathless. His lips move over yours softly, and then passionately, until you take all that passion and feed it back into him twice over.

You lose track of time. The stroke of his tongue against yours, your hands in his hair, his firm thigh between your legs, all brings you to the edge of oblivion. You squirm against him and he chuckles against your lips. He knows what you want. He’ll give it to you, you know it, you know that he will–

And then a twig snaps. Someone calls your name just through the trees, and then, fucking Victoria breaks through the bushes just in time to see you jump and squeal, having to clutch at Eddie’s shoulders to keep from falling over when he spins around to see who intruded on your precious moment.

“OH! I’m so sorry– I thought–” Victoria fiddles with a long lock of her hair, twisting it idly before tossing it over her shoulder. You’re sure you look disheveled, with Eddie’s crown of marigolds slowly unweaving itself in your hair. It’s obvious to her what you’d been doing– Her eyes rake up and down Eddie’s frame, standing halfway in front of you like a shield, his chest heaving, a dark spot on his trousers where his thigh had been pressed between your legs. “Well, you said you were going to be back, and we thought you’d gone missing…”

“I was in the middle of doing something,” you tell her bluntly.

“Understatement,” Eddie mutters under his breath, and you knock your elbow against his back.

You ignore him. “I thought you didn’t want to go into the woods?”

“Well, that was before we thought you… disappeared.” Victoria looks from you to Eddie. “Who’s this?”

“Something.” Eddie grins at her, sharp teeth glinting in the moonlight breaking through the trees. “Sorry I stole her away from you. We were actually just having a fascinating conversation about when it’s appropriate to disappear– you could join us if you want?” 

Eddie glances over his shoulder at you, and smirks a bit at the expression of complete and utter envy on your face. You don’t want anyone to join. You don’t want to share him. You want him all to yourself. You want to grow on him like ivy until no one can see him but you. You want to hold him close to your chest and keep him there for eternity, and then some. 

“Oh, no, I–” Victoria blushes. She half-turns, like she wants to run away from the conversation entirely. “I just wanted to let you know that we’ve collected all the flowers we need, so… we’re going back to town. You can stay… if you want.”

You want to throw a fit.

She ducks back into the bushes quickly. Eddie is quiet for a moment, listening to her footsteps through the grass, before he turns to you. 

“You were jealous,” he teases, leaning towards you with that stupid self-aggrandizing grin.

Your face grows hot with anger and embarrassment. “You did that on purpose.” You shove him bodily, so that he stumbles a bit to the side, and he snickers. “I can’t believe you. She could have said yes to that.”

“Nah, she was too bashful. I knew she wasn’t gonna take me up on the offer. She wandered into something she wasn’t ready for.” Eddie leans up against a tree, smiling at you with a more resigned expression now. He looks you over, like he wants to burn the image of your kiss-bitten lips and rumpled dress into his memory. After a moment, he meets your eye again. “You should go. Get some sleep before the festival tomorrow.”

“But I–” You flounder. You just made so much progress, and now you’re just back where you began. You shouldn’t be proud about it now– not after he nearly took you to pieces with a single touch. Not when you can still feel the sharp edge of an orgasm pressing at your core, wanting to force its way out but with no way to get there now, and every look at him makes it press that much harder. “You know what– I don’t even know what I expected.” 

You march off towards the tree line. You have to find your fucking flower basket. You have to go and make garlands and slap together some bouquets for the festival tomorrow. You have to pretend like you aren’t dying inside from the disappointment.

“Princess.” You turn to him. He isn’t smiling anymore, he just looks disappointed as well. He glances up at the moon, and then back to you. “It’s a full moon tomorrow. Best not to go near the woods, okay?”

“Don’t tell me you believe in those stupid wolf-man stories, too,” you snap, beyond aggravated.

“Just promise me,” Eddie bites back, his eyes shining dangerously in the moonlight. “Promise me that you’ll stay in town. Don’t come near the woods. Drink, be merry, have a good time.”

“And you?” You feel a bit humiliated and desperate, vying for his time and attention– but you want it. You want it, you want him, more than anything, but you have a feeling you won’t be getting what you want, yet again. “What about you?” 

“I’ll find you,” he says firmly, and then lowers his eyes. Softly, he amends, “I’ll always come back to you.”

[ryo-kaikura]

Male Yandere x Stoic Top Male Reader

Tw: there's gonna be: mention of murder, taking other people's skin and yandere.

This was inspired by an old anime (I forgot the name, but it had old art, and its MC is a wandering hired ninja for cheap)

It was the era of danger. People's ideal jobs are being an assassin or a hired killer or an adventurer. Either way, you would have to kill to live. Because Your world is a trial, a beta to God as he wants to create a perfect world, but he pitied the world that turned into a dangerous one, so God gave every being an ability. So everyone who reaches 15 years old manifests an ability, and usually it's random. It's not because of what you liked as a kid, nor is it what you like.

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

You were different. You realized that when you remembered everything since you came out of your mother. You remembered everything everyone had said around you. 

People would usually grow and be weird and lonely people, but not you. You were able to be the “perfect man” everyone dreamed of. Remembering what your parents told you, what your friends told you, but you realized a side effect, you don't exactly feel emotion easily. You aren't able to feel happy as easily as your friends nor your parents, but you didn't care.

You at first thought that it was your ability, but no, it wasn't your ability. your ability, when it manifested, was always seen as terrible because you could hardly manipulate a single strand of string. So they cast you out, even when you seem perfect, your ability  made them feel disgusted with you.

But you still didn't care.

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

After finding out your ability, your parents kicked you out, and you've been wandering ever since.

It's been three years since then, and you lived wandering and happy. Why might you ask? Because nobody knew you anymore, and without the constant admiration, you were able to perfect your ability until you could even reconnect severed veins (I took this from HXH). 

After wandering for a while, you see a man in a sea of corpses. He is average faced and barely breathes with a slit on his throat. Being ever so uncaring  you decided to leave but the man kept calling you, calling for your help. So you decide to help him. 

After a few days, the man was able to wake up, and again, you decided to leave. But the man tries to stop you, but his voice isn't  loud enough, so he tries to go to you, but his body is still limp after losing so much blood.

After you hear a thud behind you, you look back and see the man, on the ground, reaching for you and when he was able to get to touch you, he gripped you as tight as he could.

You, amused, decide to nurse him back to full health. After a while and he was able to talk again, he told you about himself. His name was Iro (idk, please don’t judge me). He told you about how he got betrayed. You also learned that his ability was sewing and how he had no way to sew his neck because his friends cut off his nerves on his fingertips, so he was unable to sew it.

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

After a while, he didn't want to leave you. He would whine and cling to you when you leave. You would have to bring him everywhere you go, but because of this, you realize something. He did get betrayed, but he didn't tell you the reason. You also learned his ability to leave no scarring as you see him putting on the skin of a man he killed on him and sewing it on and leaving no trace. 

Usually, people would be scared of this as that means he could just be insane but you didn't care, and he loved you because of this.

His POV

After years of following his “savior”, you, he built up his following. Without you knowing, he was able to grow his power and was able to change his appearance and skin. Another thing you didn't know about him was that he was God before he was overthrown by his own perfect creations, and afterward, you found him. He was overthrown because his creations felt that Iro didn't give them enough affection. 

Before checking up on his discarded world, he saw you. You seemed more perfect than his own perfect creation. 

After the first month of seeing you, he tried to catch your eye but it never worked until his creations betrayed him. Oh how happy he was when you looked at him.

(Back to you)

You on the other hand didn't care about a leech, Iro, clinging to you and pouting every time he thought you liked other people before changing his face, this is until he was able to be the one you only liked.

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

One night, two men dressed in white, each, though different from the others, had pretty bodies and beautiful faces. Both were walking together when suddenly they froze, shocked. 

WHY IS THE DEMONS HERE!!!???

The “demons” grab them and bring them to a dark basement. When they wake up, they see two ugly men sit on their opposite of them. The two beautiful men start to activate their ability, but it seems like they are unable. No sooner than 5 minutes of them trying a man that has a godly physique and a handsome face appears 

Iro decided to replace an old ugly skin for newer ones. Iro wanted to be perfect for you, and if he can't do that, then he would bind you to him, but for now. He's satisfied with being clingy…

Then again, he should get the best of the best. After all, he is still a GOD.

..........................................................................................

I know this is terrible, and it also didn't go as I wanted it to go 🥲

[danveration]

What if I told you I'm a mastermind? And now you're mine.

Parings: Dark!Creepy!Vox x GN!reader

Summary: Vox has a plan to finally make you his

Word count: 3145

Warnings: Stalking, obsession, manipulation, delusion, self-delusion, reader getting hypnotized by Vox against their will, mention of death, mentions of cannibalism (cannibal town), being watched while naked, reader being hurt by Vox physically

Part one

A/N: GUYS. I have a part 3 planned out but it’s REALLY fucking dark😭. Also, I was listening to the song “Mastermind” by Taylor Swift while writing this. (Hence the inspiration for the title)

Vox is getting impatient.

It’s been two weeks since he met you face to face. Two weeks since he gave you the laptop in which he’s been watching you through the webcam, and still all the cameras. Two weeks since you have been getting paranoid.

Ever since you’ve been using the laptop, you’ve noticed it’s been sparking with electricity whenever you use it. You kind of brushed it aside though because maybe this is normal for VoxTek technology.

But little did you know, it’s not normal. None of this is normal. Vox has been watching you and seeing what you browse on your laptop 24/7. He has had little no breaks. Valentino and Velvette have been giving Vox the side eye as of late, looking at him with pity/concern. He doesn’t care though, he just thinks they’re the crazy ones. This is completely okay and normal for him! How is it wrong? Nobody could prove him otherwise.

Vox must admit, seeing you face to face on the laptop camera other than angles from the cameras that are far away, is completely different. This is a millstone for him. He gets to admire you up close and take in every single detail of you. A couple days ago, you forgot to close your laptop that was on a table in your room, facing your bed. That was a fantastic day for Vox. He had a field day. He isn’t ashamed of what he did, he’s proud. He did it for you.

You’re currently sitting on your bed with your laptop, scrolling through Hell’s news feed. You’re bored, you want to do something but honestly there’s nothing much to do in Hell that doesn’t have a 90% death rate. You decide to close the laptop and go downstairs.

Vox is up. He’s been up. He had two cups of coffee beside him and he’s been awake for.. What is the hour now? He’s lost count. He just doesn’t want to miss something happening in your life! What if you wake up with a nightmare? What if bad people want to hurt you suddenly when you’re outside or asleep?? There’s so many things that could happen. He needs to be there and alert to protect you.

“Fuck sakes, Vox. You’re still on this? Clear your head, dummy!” Velvette says with a roll of her eyes.

“Shut up. My head is clear, Velvette. I’m as sane as I’d ever be!” He says.

“Uh huh.. sure. Whatever you say.” She says, walking away.

Vox shakes his head and chuckles. “People are crazy.”

He looks back up to his screen, watching you go downstairs.

You get downstairs and see that everyone is down here.

“Ah! Y/n! Goodmorning!” Charlie says with a smile.

“Morning, Charlie.” You say with a smile, waving.

“Good morning, dear!” Alastor says to you, while he’s sitting on a chair.

You look over to where he is. “Morning, Al!”

Vox’s eye twitches.

Angel and Husk are talking at the bar, and Niffty and Sir Pentious are talking. Well.. Niffty seems to be telling him something and he’s standing there in shock, looking terrified. Typical reaction for when Niffty is telling you something.

Vaggie is cleaning her spear in the lounge area, and Charlie is writing on a paper.

“Sooo, now that everyone’s here I have an announcement to make!” Charlie says, looking up from her paper. “Today.. We are doing group activities! Yay! Haha so, basically I had the great idea for all of us to go out on the town together and just spend time with one another. Doesn’t that sound fun?!” She says with excitement.

A day on the town. Honestly, that sounds nice. You’re bored out of your mind today so anything goes.

“Eehh.. I dunno. I had plans alrea-“ Angel starts but Charlie cuts him off.

“Oh come onnn! It’ll be fun, I promise!” Charlie says.

Everyone is silent so she takes that as a yes. “Alright! Great! Everyone meet here in an hour and off we go!”

You go upstairs to get dressed.

Vox listens intently to what Charlie says. A day on the town? He’s been racking his brain on how to talk to you in real life again. This may be just the thing! What if you two “accidentally” run into each other? Perfect. He notices that he’s not in the best physical state at the moment. He’s in sweat pants and a stained t-shirt. And he hasn’t showed in... A couple days. He has an hour to freshen up. He bolts out of the room to take a shower, brush his teeth, and put on his classic suit outfit.

You’re getting out of the shower and you pick out an outfit to wear. Fixing your appearance, you notice you left your laptop open again. Damn, you’ve got to get on closing that. It’ll lose its battery!

Vox steps out of the hot shower, looking at himself in the mirror. He winks at himself and goes to pick his suit outfit. After getting dressed and ready, he glances at the screen and sees you naked, about to get dressed.

“Fuck.” He says, eyeing you up and down. He feels he’s in a trance, which is ironic.

“All mine.” He whispers. Shaking his head quickly to gain composure, he sets off to go to the hotel. He will watch you guys from afar until you arrive somewhere where it’s likely where he’d be at too. Then, his mastermind plan will layout.

———————————————————————

You get downstairs and everyone is there, which is surprising. You’d expect at least Angel or Alastor to sneak off, not wanting to do this.

“Allriiggghht!! Let’s go.” Charlie says, walking to the entrance and opening the door for everyone.

“Where exactly are we going?” Angel says.

“Yeah, I’m not looking to walk no marathon.” Husk joins in.

“Wellll, I was thinking we’d just go to..” Charlie trails off. “Umm..”

“Charlie, do you even know where you’re taking us?” You say with a chuckle.

“Well…. Not yet. But! This isn’t about the destination. It’s about spending time together!” She says with a smile.

“I ssuppose you’re right.” Sir Pentious says.

Alastor’s ears twitch upwards and he says, “I have a marvelous idea! We could go to cannibal town! It’s truly a wonderful place. Remember, Charlie?” Alastor suggests.

“Hmm.. You know, that’s actually not a bad idea!” Charlie says.

Everyone gives them looks.

“Cannibal? As in.. Cannibal?” Sir Pentious says with shock.

“Ooohh..” Niffty laughs. “I’m SO excited!” She says, jumping up and down.

“Yeah! It’s not as bad as it sounds, I promise.” Charlie says with a smile.

“Whatever you think is best, babe.” Vaggie says, holding onto Charlie’s arm.

“Cannibal town it is!” Charlie says, leading the group.

———————————————————————

Vox is overhearing the conversation. “Cannibal town? Are you fucking kidding me?” He whispers, walking a safe distance away from you guys. Even simply seeing you exist is driving him crazy. You’re so perfect. “Cannibal town it is then. The things we do for love.” He chuckles to himself.

The way you walk is so memorizing to him. Look at you. He feels electricity spark around him, knocking over a electric pole next to him, making a loud noise.

“Shit.” He says, glancing in front of him, seeing you all stop for a moment, about to look back.

He quickly looks to his left and jumps out of the way. He waits a few seconds and then peaks out, seeing you all keep walking forward.

He sighs and goes back to following you.

What he didn’t notice was that Alastor was no longer with the group, instead, he teleported himself behind Vox. He notices, of course he does. He smiles to himself at the fact that he now has the upper hand, he has something to now hold over his head.

Teleporting back to the group, he glances over to Charlie.

“My dear, there it is!” He points.

“Ahh! Guys, we are here!” She says.

You all look around in shock. It’s actually.. Really nice there. Nicer than any place you’ve seen in Hell since you arrived. Everyone seems very polite.

Angel goes off to flirt with people, Husk looks around for the nearest bar, Charlie and Vaggie take pictures together, Sir Pentious is looking around paranoid, and Niffty is.. Where’s Niffty? Oh well, she’ll show up sooner than later. And Alastor is chatting with a lady. You think her name is Rosie? You saw her on an overload poster the other day.

You see a water fountain and go to sit by it.

Vox looks around. He’s pleasantly surprised. This isn’t the kind of place he’d choose to go, but it’s still not as bad as he thought it would be. He thought it would just be people violently eating and killing each other.

He sees you sitting on a bench beside a fountain, and walks up from behind.

You’re feeling kind of thirsty so you get up to go find the nearest store. Hopefully they sell things other than human remains.

Vox takes this as his chance, he walks swiftly beside you and then bumps into you on “accident.”

You jump and look to your side.

Vox..?

“Oh shit sorry!” He chuckles, looking up at you.

“Oh you’re.. Y/n, right?” He says with a charming smile.

“Yeah.” You chuckle awkwardly.

“You come here often?” He asks.

“To cannibal town? No, haha. Me and some friends are just visiting.” You explain.

“Ahhh.. I see, I see.” He stares at you in admiration.

You can’t help but feel weird around him. You’re not sure why. He seems like a nice guy, but.. There’s just something about him.

“Well..” You say. “I’ve got to get going.”

“Mind if I join you?” He says with a smile. “Wouldn’t want anyone eating you or anything like that.” He laughs and starts walking with you, not waiting for an answer.

“Soo.. How’ve you been? Have you been enjoying your new laptop?” He asks you.

You can’t seem to find a store that would sell water so you just stand there, turning your head to Vox to make conversation.

“I’ve been pretty good! Bored, but good. And yeah actually, I’ve been using it a lot.” You say, smiling.

“Oh that’s good, that’s good.” He says, nodding.

His heart is beating out of his chest right now.

You try your best to put aside your feelings of uneasiness towards him. It’s probably nothing. He’s just a new face and you gotta get used to that! He didn’t do anything wrong, it’s just your brain being annoying.

Little did you know, you have every single right to feel uneasy.

“Have you enjoyed all the features?” He asks, wanting to know more about what your thoughts are on the laptop. But more or less, just wanting to hear your voice and make as much conversation as he can with you.

“Yeah! Though.. I’ve noticed something weird. Is it.. normal for the laptops to spark electricity?” You ask in question, remembering how whenever you went on it, you saw sparks aka Vox watching you.

Vox smiles and says, “Absolutely! That’s completely normal. We thought it would be a cool idea, you know? It’s completely harmless!” He says in a convincing tone.

You feel relived at that. “Ohh alright, good!” You smile.

Vox wants to ask you out on a date. He wants to just take you. He wants you. All of you. He just doesn’t know how to approach this. It’s overwhelming for him.

“Vox?” You say, “What’re you doing here?” You ask in question, wondering what sort of business a powerful, popular man like himself was doing here.

“Hm?” He starts. “Oh! Right. I’m just here walking the streets. Browsing.” He answers with an awkward chuckle.

“Ohh, nice.” You ask, looking behind him to see Niffty chasing someone with an arm.

“Oh my- Will you excuse me, Vox? I have to go do something.” You say, stepping away from him.

He sparks and steps in front of you, blocking you.

“W-wait! Hold on. I wanted to ask you something.” He says with a smile.

You look at him with a raised brow.

“Uhh..” He says, shifting his feet and looking away and back at you, seemingly nervous.

“Haha..” He awkwardly scratches his neck and thinks over how exactly he wants to say this.

Just as he was about to talk and ask you to go out with him, Charlie steps in the way.

“Y/n! We were going to head back to the hotel now and do some more fuunn group exercises!” She said smiling.

She looks over to who you’re talking to and tilts her head.

“Hello! Who might you be?” She says smiling at him.

Vox stares at her, annoyed.

“This is Vox. He owns VoxTek and he’s one of the VVV’s.” You cut in.

“Oohhh well it’s SO nice to meet you, Mr. Vox.” She says.

“Yeah, yeah. Nice to meet you too. Me and Y/n were just-“ He mumbles but gets interrupted by Niffty running between his legs and accidentally hitting him with the arm she was waving around.

His eyes go red and electricity goes around him, showing that he’s mad. He’s had enough. This was supposed to be a swift move. He comes in, wipes you off your feet, you fall in love with him, and you’re his. But in his mind, all these fucking bitches keep interrupting his time with you. He’s had it.

He snaps and grabs your arm, pulling you away from everyone. Charlie just looks in question, but walks away when she notices Vaggie calling her over.

You’re shocked and confused. What is going on? You barely know Vox. You feel a spark as he grabs you, and you hiss out in pain.

“Y/n.” He says, looking at you. His eyes are manic wide and he’s smiling at you possessively.

You try to back away but he holds you firmly by his wrist.

“Just listen. Everything is okay. I was trying to ask you if you wanted to go on a date with me.” He explains calmly, despite his not very calming state.

You now feel better that you had an uneasy feeling about him. It was deserved.

“Uhh.. Yeah, I don’t know about that. I’m sorry.” You say hesitantly.

He stops. Letting go of your arm.

“What did you just say?”

He looks at you in shock, anger, and determination.

You back up and say, “No. I don’t want to go on a date with you, Vox. I’m sorry.”

You walk away, meeting Charlie and the rest of the family. You guys walk back to the hotel, leaving Vox there to spiral.

Vox stands there, frozen. Did you just..? Say no..? To him? The love of your life? What has gotten in your head? He’s in disbelief. He shakes his head, laughing.

“No. This isn’t right. Don’t worry, Y/n. I’ll clear your head in no time.” He says with a smile, calming walking back to his headquarters.

———————————————————————

You’re back in you room, ready for bed. Yawning, you open your laptop to check your messages before you go to sleep.

Vox is smiling as he sends hypnotizing message through the screen. Trust him, love him, and feel sorry for how you treated him.

All of a sudden, you see sparks on the laptop again, but this time, you feel something.

Your head spins and your eyes go foggy for a second. All you can think about is how much you messed up by declining Vox’s offer today. How dumb can you be? Why would you do that?

You snap out of the trance and frown. A wave of regret and shame fills you. Vox of VoxTek, one of the most important people in Hell, the guy who gave you a free laptop, the charming man who asked you out on a date, when he could’ve asked anyone else but he asked you.. and you said no?!

You panic and begin to have anxiety. You have to apologize to him. In person.

Getting up, not even changing out of your pyjamas, you leave your room and go to walk over to the VVV tower to say sorry to Vox and see if it’s not too late to accept his offer.

All-while, Vox is sitting back smirking while watching you on his screens. See?! Now you have some sense talked into you. You just needed a little push. His lovely is on his way to see him, as it should’ve been. You just needed some reminding of how you really felt. Vox is excited to see you again. And this time, it won’t get interrupted.

You get to the VVV tower, entering the place. It’s pretty cool there. You look around and go to the reception desk.

There’s a young man there, you have the idea to ask him if you can speak to Vox.

“Hey um.. Am I able to see Vox? I have something to say to him.” You ask.

The man laughs at you and just stares.

“Oh, you’re serious?” He asks. “No can do! We can’t just let random people walk in and talk to him.” He says in a “are-you-dumb” way.

Suddenly, Vox enters from the elevator.

“Y/n! Hello, you.” He says with a charming smile, walking over to you.

“V-Vox! I just um.. I wanted to say something to you. If that’s okay..” You start.

He shushes you and tells you to wait while he brings you up to his room for more privacy.

As you two get to his room, you look around. It suits him. There’s a lot of screens and all the colours that match his usual outfits.

“So, what is it you wanted to tell me?” He says smugly, knowing already.

“I just wanted to say I’m sorry for how I acted when you asked me out. I shouldn’t have said no.. I just.. I don’t know what came over me.” You say apologetically.

“Oh my dear, dear, Y/n. Thank you for your apology.” He says. “Do you have a different answer now?”

You feel a twist in your gut. Half of you is still saying no, but half of you is saying yes. You don’t know which one to lean into. It feels like your brain is confused and that you can’t even trust yourself.

Vox notices you thinking hard, so he helps you. Using his hypnotizing “power,” he puts sense into your brain.

Your head goes dizzy for a second and all comes clear to you. You don’t have to trust yourself. You can just trust him. The answer was staring you in your face all along.

“Y-yes! I do have a different answer. I’d say yes. I want to go out with you.” You say quickly.

Vox smiles.

“Of course you do.” He whispers.

[t1oui]

going to school and being friends with percy jackson would be REALLY WEIRD so let's discuss it rq

he gets dropped off every day in his stepfather's car, which inexplicably has hoof prints on the hood?

the panic attacks... there's a lot of them, and nobody can even tell what's triggering them at this point

the old counselor disappears about a week into his first year at AHS (here's some cotg lore for yall) and is replaced by a weird lady who finds a way to bring percy up to every. single. student. who visits her office.

randomly disappears multiple times throughout the year

very very sea green eyes and a gray streak in his hair

once got out of the pool after swim practice and was completely dry (he insists it was a trick of the light)

the blue food obsession ofc

talks about his girlfriend annabeth all the time... even his friends are convinced it's a "my canadian girlfriend" situation bc he never calls her. he doesn't even have a PHONE

always carries around a pen in his pocket and even though it's just a shitty old ballpoint, NOBODY IS ALLOWED TO TOUCH IT. also he never uses it. ever.

every teacher has sent an email with their concerns about him to the counselor and when that doesn't work to his parents. the responses are always very awkward and vague

talks about his bio dad a lot... never explicitly negative but bro clearly has daddy issues lol

will sometimes randomly mention camp/war/gods and then brush it off like it never happened

absolutely vibrated in his seat the entirety of the greek mythology unit... told the teacher "a demigod named perseus fought ares once" and the teacher just assumes he means the og (aka the one he's named after)

that one upbeat popular guy everybody knows absolutely nothing about, his friends included

they probably have a spreadsheet with all the info they actually DO know about him

finds a way to brag about his mom in every conversation no matter how irrelevant... his friends are used to it atp

everyone's so used to seeing him smiling and laughing that when, say, he catches a younger kid being bullied, it's actually terrifying to see how angry he gets. everybody in that hallway gets chills

there's something off about him and nobody can tell what. that's just how he is

sometimes weird people in weird outfits are hanging around the school and they're ALWAYS looking for him.

every time someone asks what college he's going to he gives a different answer or straight up avoids answering so nobody actually knows

(if he says a school and someone is like "omg me too" he changes his answer right then and there lol... he's like "oh nvm i forgot i'm actually going here my bad" and the person is so confused)

nobody ever sees him working on college applications but he complains about having to do them all the time... bro is like "yeah i had to go through a sewer system but at least my girlfriend and my best friend were there" and his friends are like yo HUH

never explains anything he says

presentation night presentation = all the shittiest things my family has done and he's laughing about it but wdym your aunt kidnapped you and gave you amnesia???

sometimes he's getting fed up with a teacher or another student and a pipe randomly bursts in the school. like it's weird how often his anger ends in a plumber being called when he's nowhere near the problem

where everyone else is excited to watch a movie and chill in class, percy complains through the entirety of hercules - not just "oh this movie sucks", more like "god hercules is such a dick, idk why they made him chill in this movie"

the weirdest part is how, when percy complains about zeus being a good dad in the movie, it starts thundering outside

nobody can keep track of how many schools he's been to at this point... there's a whole section of the spreadsheet for this

when percy's friends finally meet annabeth they are SHOOK bc they truly did not think this girl was real

alright i can't think of anything else but if i DO i will add on later

[httpscomexe]

Forbidden Secret Desire

Summary: You just can’t seem to find yourself in this stupid school for freaks, but just when you’re sure no one cares anymore, a man with adamantium claws disturbs your groaning with a promise. Except he forgot to mention everything good comes with a price.

(Find What I’m currently writing by checking my pinned post)

Parings: Logan Howlett x Reader

Warnings: (Individual warnings per chapter) Anxiety, hints to violence, loneliness, I guess angst, manipulation (The reader is helpless and will look for anything to make her happy), some hints towards suggestive material near the end, bad language word use, pet names.

Word Count: 3523 (Find all chapters here) Chapter 2

P.S. If you’d like to be tagged, ask in the comments, you also have permission to send an ask, but make sure it is NOT anonymous, so I know your username, don’t worry, I’m scared of confrontation too. But this is a SAFE SPACE where I will not judge. Thank you again.

Xavier's Mansion.

Also known as the school for “Gifted Youngsters,” or simply for what society prefers to call, “Freaks.”

You’d been there for a few months. You have a very unique power, something even Xavier himself doesn’t understand how to control.

You get these looks all the time when you're walking in the halls of the mansion. You notice it when people cover their mouths to whisper about you and you can’t not notice it when you seem to create a bubble around you as some of the kids try to keep a distance.

Yea, it hurts. You couldn’t deny that either. Sometimes you’d even have to find a restroom really fast to cry to yourself in one of the stalls, but even that hurts when some of the students quickly flood out of the restroom after you enter.

Nobody knew how much it hurt you, nobody even knew what powers you really had. If they did, you would’ve already been sent to the ice box, but luckily, you didn’t know how to use your more dangerous powers. You figured Xavier probably knew about them, considering he can read your mind and he knows just exactly how powerful you really were, but he didn’t know if you knew about them. And what you don’t know, can’t hurt you.

The hardest part was going to class. While everyone else had a table of four people, you sat alone. You did every project alone, with high soaring grades by the way, and you never got to speak to anyone during discussion or free time before the bell rang.

Sometimes you wish you were just… normal.

Of course, you weren’t the only person that was avoided. There were a few other students and even some of the adults that were always avoided. The only true friend you seemed to have was Hank McCoy. Everyone used to fear him, thinking that he couldn’t control the “Beast,” so he knows how you feel. But sometimes it only felt like he tolerated you because you were smart, and you were the only student that could aid him in building anything related to tech, and nanotech, and coding, and all that good stuff.

“Have you figured out why it isn’t working?” Was the first thing he asked you as you walked into his lab. Not a good morning, no how’s class, and not even hello. “I was thinking it had something to do with our maths, that maybe we calculated something wrong but I’ve looked over it again and again and couldn’t find a single thing wrong with it.” He tells you, picking up his notebook which you could see was now full of mathematical equations and random scribbles which seemed to radiate with frustration.

“I don’t think we got the maths wrong, I’ve checked it about a thousand times.” You say quietly, then gently put your bag full of books down under one of his desks so it wasn’t in the way. “Pretty sure it just needs to be smaller. Nothing really about maths though. Other than that, the fibres need to be smaller.”

“So it is the maths?”

“Eh, kind of.” You groan a little and stretch before grabbing a small, delicate pair of tweezers. “This is still too big.” You tell him, placing a sample of part of your tech down under a microscope, strong enough you’re surprised it couldn’t see atoms. “See, this is about as thick as a piece of hair, which is about the size of…” You sigh, looking back at your maths. “It’s about 50,000 nanoparticles, so not a lot, but we need it to be a little smaller.” You tell him, then look away from the small bit of tech to look up at him, his eyes squinted in your direction as is he was trying to understand what you were saying. “Okay I’ll dumb it down. It’s about as thick as a piece of hair right now, we need to numb it down to about… only one hundred nanoparticles, so it should be about as thick as graphene.”

“What’re you two nerds going on about now?” Another voice cuts into your explanation. It was none other than the gruffy voice of Wolverine.

“Oh hey, Logan.” Hank abandons the workstation to go over Logan who was making himself some coffee. “Just figuring out something about nano…”

“Nanoparticles.” You finish his sentence.

“Yea, that.” He says plainly, not bothering to look at you as you turn away from their conversation and look through the microscope.

“Now how do I make you that small…” You whisper to yourself, gently lifting the particle string with your delicate tweezers and examining it through the microscope. “Hmm…” You hum to yourself.

“Y/N!” Hank calls for you, and you turn around. “I’m going out to pick up some lunch for the both of us. What would you like? I’m getting Mexican.” You tell him what you would like, and he takes a moment to clean his work area and stuff his wallet in his pocket before he finally leaves. Leaving you to stand by your desk, doing all the work that has to do with nanotech, but also leaving the Wolverine with you.

“So what exactly are you two working on?” You hear his voice behind you, then you see him next to you.

“Teleportation. Not as complicated as you think, it’s just the fear that gets to everyone really.” You look away from your work, and your eyes land on him. His arms crossed as he leaned on a nearby table, showing enough respect to not sit on your working table.

“Seems complicated. What could possibly be scary about it though? It's just teleportation.”

“Well. If you think deeper into it. Your body and every single atom and particle of your body has to be completely broken down into an uncountable amount of smaller pieces and then your body has to rebuild itself in the secondary location, you just have to hope that it rebuilds you correctly. Or the next thing you know half your right arm is also half of your left leg with toes for fingers.” You say without taking a breath, taking a deep breath after letting it all out. Staring back up at him, his eyes were now squinted in confusion.

“I don’t think anyone is scared of that except you. I’ve never even thought about that.” He shrugs, taking a sip of his scalding hot black coffee.

“Yea well… I’ve had a lot of time to think about a lot of things.” You tell him through gritted teeth, mumbling before grabbing your notebook.

“You know…” He pauses, placing his hot coffee mug on another table away from your work before walking back up next to you, placing his palms on your table where there wasn’t electronic junk lying around. “You aren’t the only one.”

“The only one?” You question, turning and grabbing another tool before looking under your microscope, turning the string around to try and figure out how to break it into a smaller piece, without actually breaking it.

“The only one that’s feared.”

You stop what you’re doing, still looking into the microscope but not actually paying attention to what was right in front of your eyes.

“I’ve seen the way some of the other kids look at you, bub. Like there’s something wrong with you. I know how it feels to not fit in.” He crosses his arms as he leans against your table, attempting to get your full attention. He clears his throat before speaking again. “I’ve seen you in the halls. Your name is Y/N, right?” You nod, his eyes and yours locked onto each other. “Logan.” He says, reaching his hand out to shake yours. Your hand basically gets engulfed by his as your soft hand meets his, which were rough and still yet soft, that surprised you, considering… “Hank talks about you a lot also. Not like he loves you or anything, he just tells me you’re smart. Like really smart.” He shrugs.

“Hm…” You hum a little. This is the first conversation you’ve had with someone in this school where they’ve actually treated you like a real human.

“Considering the way you explain this stuff, I’d say he’s probably right about you being smart.” He nodded towards the nanoparticles still sitting under your microscope, it was hard to see from even a foot away considering it was the width of a single piece of hair. “So what exactly is a nanoparticle? Or nano…”

“Nanoparticle" is correct. It just like a piece of tech or anything made of tech like certain fibers that can be visible to the naked eye but they’re very small. Just this one piece is the width of 50,000 nanoparticles.” You carefully pick up the string, and gently put it in it’s container.

“And what was that other thing you mentioned earlier?”

“Graphene?”

“Yea.”

“It’s made of about 50 to 100 nanoparticles, and it can be seen with the naked eye through a refraction of light in a mirror or clear substance that has a bend in it.”

“I’m not completely sure what any of that means. But I trust you know what you’re doing.”

“Yea, I’m kind of a nerd.” You chuckle awkwardly, then reach down to pull your bag over your shoulder, your social battery is pretty much near zero for the day, or maybe week. This was you first time ever speaking to Wolverine and you just nerd out on him? What were you thinking?

“Alright, I got food. Where are you heading?” Hank finally comes back, a bag full of boxes with the three of your foods in them in his right hand as he enters the lab, letting the metal door close behind him.

“I’ve got a bit of a headache, I was gonna go back to my room.”

“Well you know the rules. No food in the rooms.”

“Yea, yea. I know.” You sigh, setting your bag back down as he hands you your box of food and you hop onto one of the clean counters to sit down as you eat your food.

“Have you seen Xavier today?” He asks Logan, handing him his food also.

“No, he’s out on some special mission with Mystique right now, won’t be back for about another week.”

“And what does he have you doing? You never leave your room so I’m assuming he's’ got you doing something?” Hank stands next to Logan as they both talk back and forth.

“He has me teaching his third class and fifth class. I guess that one is the anger management class and the other is meditation.”

“Ah, so he’s got you teaching the two classes you used to fail in.”

“Ironic, isn’t it?”

After working in the lab, a lot shorter than usual, you actually head back to your room. You hate to admit it, but you’ve been ecstatic to meet Wolverine for years, and when you finally get to have a conversation with him, you just geek out on him about nanotech?

As you hang your bag on the wall and remove your jacket only to throw it on the back of your desk chair, you can’t help but want to just smash your head on a wall until you’ve forgotten about everything that’s happened today.

You mope as you walk into the centre of your small room, stopping and staring at the mess on your desk, a bunch of full notebooks covered in little pen markings of maths and science that no one else in the school would understand.

You walk to the desk, take one of the notebooks in your hand that had some free space left, and drop down on your bed. Reaching behind your head, you pull your sweater over your head and discard it on the floor before leaning against your headboard and clicking the back of your pencil until the led is at your desired length.

As soon as the tip of the led touches the paper, your mind wanders. That was so embarrassing… You realise, scribbling random maths into your notebook. I can’t believe I just made a professor hate me too… Not only had you dissociated, but you also completely nerded out. You talked about nanoparticles as if it was the only thing you cared about. You care about more though. You care about the family that was so scared of you they sent you off to this stupid school, calling you a freak and breaking all ties with you. No, you don’t care about them. But you care about your friends so much! You don’t have any friends. Hank is very special to you, he holds a space in your heart. A very, very small space. Yea he doesn’t care about you, you’ve just been able to make about a thousand breaks in his experiments. Then of course he would take all of the credit when he would show it to Professor X.

Why do you even try? I guess working with Hank is the equivalent of the other students going out to the mall with their friends. The only difference is he wasn’t your friend.

You take it back, you had one friend. If you could even call someone you only text cause you’re too scared for actual confrontation, a friend. Nightcrawler- or Kurt. The one guy who’s ever made an actual effort to try and be your friend, he’s just always out on missions. Or so that’s what his actual friends tell you. Maybe you should send him a text and actually verify whether he hates you or not… You get up from your bed and unzip your bag, sticking your hand into the pocket where you always shove your phone, but it’s not there. What the fuck? You take your bag off it’s hook and search the rest of the pockets, and still no phone. You go to your bed, searching under the covers and getting on your knees to check under the bed, still no phone. You check your desk, your discarded sweater, and you sweep the floor with your eyes looking for it, thinking it might’ve just fallen out of your pocket. You hate seeming desperate for a simple device that rots your brain to default, but God that phone is your escape.

“Hey, is everything alright-?” A voice cuts into your messy search as you turn around and your door is cracked just enough for him to stick his head in.

“Sorry, Mr. Howlett, I just can’t find my phone.” You chuckle awkwardly, standing in the centre of your room as he peeks around your room at the mess you’ve created.

“Again, you can call me Logan. I don’t mind it, I prefer it actually. Do you mind if I step in?”

“Yea, it’s fine. Sorry for the mess, I haven’t really had time to clean it.” You nervously link your fingers together in front of you and let your thumb pick at your skin as he comes in, closing the door gently behind him.

“It’s not a mess, just a sweater on the floor and notebooks on the bed.” Sweater on the floor. Of course. Yea, you were standing in the centre of your room, in your shorts and a black fucking clasp on bra. Now you suddenly feel naked standing in front of him, so you cross your arms, hoping to hide at least some of the embarrassment.

“Well uh, what’s up?” You try sounding cool but immediately cringe.

“You left this in the lab.” He tells you, then reaches into his pocket and pulls out your phone, handing it to you backside up, so you could see the glittery phone case, adorned with pink sparkles. “Was gonna give it to you in class but you kids go crazy over your phones.”

“Oh I wouldn’t go crazy…” You tell him, humour in your voice as you awkwardly look around your room, the sheets halfway off the bed and your pillows tossed in the middle, the result in the crazy search for your phone. “Would just be a little annoyed…”

“So is everything okay?”

“Yea, why do you ask?”

“I was knocking on your door and sayin’ your name. but you didn’t answer.”

“Oh,” You laugh dryly. “Sorry, sometimes I get lost in my head and kinda just block out all sounds and sometimes I’ll block out what’s in front of me."

“Oh I see.” What do I say to respond to that? “What were you working on?” Why is he still here?

“Honestly, I don’t know, I was just scribbling.”

“Had enough maths for the day?” He jokes.

“Had enough maths for the month.” You mumble, but then he laughs. A short laugh. But a laugh nonetheless. Isn’t he annoyed by you? Why is he still- “What would you be doin’ if Hank didn’t have you doing all this brain stuff?” Oh.

“Well uh, nothing probably.”

“Not one for hanging out with your friends?”

“Friends? Hah!” You laugh with sarcasm, then walk over to your discarded sweater, bending over to pick it up, deciding to distract yourself with cleaning. “It's not easy for a freak to make friends.” You mumble to yourself, hoping he wouldn’t hear, of course, he did.

“You’re not a freak.” He crosses his arms as you look over your shoulder at him.

“Yea sure. Everyone in the school would so easily disagree with you on that.” You say back, folding the sweater before tossing it into your dirty laundry basket. “Professor X won’t even let me leave the school because he doesn’t trust me. I’m sure you’re no different.” Shit that was supposed to be said in your head. Stupid, stupid, stupid. You’d smack yourself right now if it wouldn’t make you look stupid, if he wasn’t in your room still.

“So you think everyone’s the same?” He asks, more of a statement.

“No I- I don’t mean it like that. I just-” He clears his throat.

“Come here.” He demands, looking into your fucking soul. So of course, with a gaze as threatening as his. You stand right in front of him after you walk up to him like Bambi in a traffic headlight. Wobbly, and frozen. “Good, now look at me.” Oh, you forgot that part.

You looked away from his shirt, and tilted your head back to look up into his eyes and for a man who’s so adept at killing his eyes were so soft, and broken…

“If you didn’t randomly blank out, you would’ve also heard Xavier when he told you the only time you could leave, is if it’s with someone else in case there’s an emergency.”

“Emergency from what? Me losing my temper?”

“Exactly that.” Is what shuts you up. “When I said I know how you’re feeling, I meant it.” His voice softens, and you feel your throat knot as you hold back embarrassing tears. “It wasn’t easy for me to make friends either, but honestly I prefer to be in a small crowd. Normally I’m not the one to comfort a student, but you just don’t seem to want to talk to anyone. Why’s that?”

“I’ve tried talking to people. They just give me a look and then walk away.”

“Does that actually happen? Or is that just what it feels like?”

Shit. You hate to admit it, but he makes a point.

What the fuck. Was your next thought as his hand moved up and he gently placed his hand on your cheek.

“I know you hate everyone at this school from the fucking bottom of your heart, but I’m gonna have you try to refrain from hating me. We can strike a deal by letting me take you out of the mansion. I’m sure you’d love to get out, can’t remember the last time you left.”

“Never have.” You whisper, shrugging your shoulders. Your voice is only quiet so your tears aren’t cascading down your face.

“Well if you can just promise to behave, and tell me when you’re getting stressed, then I’ll supervise you like Xavier wants.” He tells you, promising some sort of freedom. “I’m not saying I’m scared of you. If anyone is scared of what you can do, it’s you. Am I right?” You nod. “Use your words, bub.”

“Yea…” Your voice cracks as you barely mutter an entire word.

“Hey, hey…” He says softly, then he suddenly pulls you into a hug. “I’ve got you.” He gently rubs your back, which by the way is still bare since you never got to throw on another shirt. “Just cancel your plans with Hank, I can help you more than he ever will…”

He promises. His fingers gently run over the metal clasps on the back of your bra as you loosely wrap your arms around him, embracing his hug and you nod, not able to formulate any more words as you cry quietly against his chest, your tears wetting his shirt as you both stand there in silence. A quiet smirk on his face as he holds onto you…

[leaawrites]

Could you please write a fic where the girl was best friends with the Gallaghers when she was younger but then moved away and ended up becoming friends with Damon. Fast forward to the award show where she’s Damon plus one and ultimately runs into the Gallagher again, where they’re all over her/happy to see her again/don’t want to leave her alone. But Damon really confused bc she’s never mentioned that she knew them and they’re all jealous over her. It could be a x reader for anybody but maybe have her end up with one of the brothers? Thank you!! Also sorry it’s a long request

idiots

Liam Gallagher x fem!reader

Summary: In which, they find back to each other and finally confess.

Warnings: fluff, angst, jealousy, harsh language

Wordcount: 1.8k

Masterlist

Slouching on the couch of one of her best friends, Y/n stares at the telly and the faces on them. Two people she used to know like the back of her hand, until she didn’t anymore.

Moving away from your home town was one of the worst scenarios for a teenager like her. She’d always been bad at making friends or becoming comfortable enough around other people to truly show them who she was, not just the pretty girl with not much to say.

When Damon met her the first time, backstage at one of their earlier gigs, he couldn’t believe the two different people he met that night. First he caught her eye from across the room, a shy smile playing on her lips as she crossed his gaze, before looking away rather quickly again. Then, after a few sentences spoken and hours passed, they stumbled out the bar together, his arm thrown over her shoulder as she tried guiding him home safely. They shared a kiss when stumbling into his apartment, though ultimately decided that they would never be more than friends.

He was still on her mind.

She never actively thought about him, except when he was on TV. It was more like an always lingering memory of their time that she couldn’t let go of even if she tried. He wouldn’t let her live in peace even after she left them.

“What ya staring at?” Damon asked, walking into the living room and flopping on the couch next to her. “Ya fancy one of those bellends?”

“Don’t go mental now,” she laughed, seeing his scrunched up face as Oasis performed their new song on Top Of The Pops.

It was good, she had to admit, Noel had always been a great writer. Though it wouldn’t be the same without him. Liam made it all seem so effortlessly. He made it look so cool. Even when it was playback and not live, she’d heard them perform live more than enough times to be a fair judge.

Sneaking away from Damon’s side at festivals or watching a show with them late at night while she tried not to wake one of the boys, she never forgot to keep her promise she made when she left.

‘I promise that I will watch everything you do, I’ll follow you still, Liam. Don’t worry about me forgetting you, I couldn’t.’

“What I wanted to ask,” Damon started talking away, tearing part of her attention from the screen, but not all. “There’s this award show coming up, nothing worth mentioning. Wanna come with me?”

“Me?” she asked, now fully turning towards the boy. “Why would you want me to accompany you to such thing?”

He shrugged, but she knew that he had an answer already ready for every single one of her question.

“All those other people there are boring. You’re the only fun one.” Pulling his puppy eyes and pouting his lips, she looked at him bored for a moment before ultimately giving in.

“Fine,” she agrees, making him gleam in joy. “But.” Holding her finger up at him. “If anyone starts some stupid dating rumour again, I’m never going anywhere with you again.”

Walking into the big venue, she spotted the pair she tried her hardest to avoid that night, almost immediately. Sitting at a table near their own, chattering and laughing and drinking. Shaking hands occasionally.

Through out the first half of the show, Y/n couldn’t keep her eyes away from him. From her seat, she had the best view on his profile. she could see his jaw tighten whenever someone won he didn’t want to win, or how the grip on his beer would loosen whenever someone won he wanted to, a small smile forming on his face whenever that happened. One forming on her own almost identically.

Liam could feel a pair of eyes burning in the back of his head, occasionally turning around to try and catch his predator. All he found though, was Damon Albarn staring at him with confused eyes.

He’d noticed his friend’s gaze far away from where it should be, somewhere in the crowd of people, focused on one in particular. Catching Liam Gallagher’s gaze, he was taken back to the night he asked her to accompany him. Being aware of the crush she formed on ‘the enemy’ he couldn’t help but not not take her.

The moment the first half was over and a break was called through the speakers installed in the walls, Damon excused himself, walking out and to the bar. Getting them a new drink, that they ‘couldn’t survive this without’. Laughing at his wording, Y/n let him walk away. Looking around the room, her eyes were drawn to his seat again.

Liam was watching Damon walk away, his gaze now finally free to see the man’s guest. Looking at the table, his eyes widen in shock. Hitting Noel’s arm repeatedly, he couldn’t keep his focus from lingering. His eyes still focused on her, though his mind was far away. It was back in Manchester, back with her. The two bodies of theirs laying close together as The Stone Roses played in the background of their silence.

‘I don’t want you to go.’ He would’ve never admitted back then what he knew already for years.

His heart skipped a beat when their eyes locked, their souls intertwining again after years left torn apart. Healing as he held her face in his mind.

“What?” Noel snapped annoyed. Turning to his little brother sharply and pushing his hand away from his arm.

Liam didn’t answer, only pointing in her direction. Noel’s eyes widen in shock now too.

“What ya doing here, love?” A voice boomed behind her, the familiarity of it seeping through her spine, making her sit up straighter.

“Liam,” she breathed out before turning towards him. The room watching the two of them. “Hey.”

Pulling her into a hug, he inhaled the scent on her hair and neck. It was richer now, but still the same summery feeling he only smelt around her. Noel came after, not leaving her a lot of space to breath.

“Hey, kid,” he greeted her, smiling brightly.

“Can’t believe you’ve stolen my date now, Gallagher.” Damon came walking back, two drinks in his hands.

Putting them down a smirk appeared on his face, making Liam’s blood boil up in anger. His fist clenching at the thought of them being here together. She had to know about the war they partaking in, why was she on his side now?

Y/n could sense the tension, as could Noel, who quickly led Liam away from the scene, saying they should go back before it gets to late and the lights would dim. Sitting down, they both still held their gaze, urging he other to look away first, but neither would dare to.

The lights dimmed again, though one brighter one appeared on the other side of the room. Liam walked out through one of the back doors. Noel sat with his head in his hands at their table, praying he hadn’t had to explain what just happened between them.

Looking at Damon, he told her to go after him. Silently creeping through the dark, she hoped for no cameras to catch her body escaping. Walking out into the lights and fresh air, she could breath for the first time in an hour. Outside the building, Liam was perched up against a wall with a cigarette hanging from his lips. Standing next to him, her arms crossed over her chest, they kept in silence. The only sound being the shuffling of Liam’s body as he took his jacket from his body and wrapped it around hers, without acknowledging her presence more than that.

“Saw you two on a front page a few weeks back, never thought I’d see you again. Even less with someone like him,” he broke the silence after a couple of minutes passing.

“Damon can be pretty nice if you get to know him better. He’s just cold at first, not like you’re any different,” she defended her friend, making him roll his eyes.

“How would you know? We couldn’t even talk when we met.”

“It took me four months to get you to even look at me. You were just always ignoring me.” They both laughed at the memories ans endless stories their mothers used to share about the two of them.

“Wasn’t even doing it on purpose, love.” Raising her eyebrows at him, he reconsidered. “You were just too pretty to look at,” he tried once more. Tilting her head, the smirk on his face disappeared. “In my defence, you were pretty violent in your attempts to get my attention. Seemed pretty desperate too.”

Gaping at him with her mouth wide open, she slapped in his arm, making him wince a little in fake hurt. “I wasn’t desperate. Though you seemed kinda intimidated once I could talk earlier than you, big mouth. Seemed to be a sign of God, that you would only talk bullshit anyway, so he threatened giving you a vocabulary.”

“Would it still be bullshit if I said, that seeing you together made me jealous?”

The words hung in the air between them, the confession lingering a little longer on both their racing hearts.

“Yes,” she answered, making his face drop. He was so sure that there was more to them than friendship, now it seemed that he even destroyed that. “Utter bullshit,” she continued talking. Continued stabbing a sword into his already breaking heart. “Because there was never a reason for you to be jealous.”

Crushing the cigarette beneath his shoes, he was ready to hear the last words he expected her to mutter to him. Letting him suffer in silence out of embarrassment and shame instead of screaming it at him with laughter. ‘We were always just friends, why would you be jealous? You’re still my best friend.’

“Liam,” she whispered, seeing the distant look in his eyes. “Can you please look at me?”

Snapping his eyes up to her, they looked almost angry with something. The soft blue now a storming sea.

“What?” He spat at her.

“I’ve always loved you, I just wanted you to know that.”

It couldn’t be true, could it? Laughing it off quietly, he nodded his head in mockery. “Yeah, sure. A great friend I am.”

“Not just in a friendly way.”

His heart stopped in his chest at her words, sinking down his chest and into his stomach, making him feel sick. The weight of it pulling him down, his shoulders falling into his body.

“What?” he quietly asked, not believing her words. It was all in his imagination, right?

Sacking her body, she couldn’t believe him. Typical Liam, she though. Smiling at him sweetly, her eyes sparkling under the street lights before pulling him in by his collar and connecting their lips. They had kissed before, but this was different. This one was real. His hands on her waist gripping tight to make her stay so close to him forever. He wouldn’t ever let go of her again.