#gonna work on custom pins too

[pencil-on-the-moon]

Also VOTE! SHOW! UP!!!

Millions of democrats literally just didn't go vote this election and now look where we are. You have no right complaining about the results of this election or the subsequent implementing of Project 2025 IF YOU DID NOTHING TO HELP PREVENT IT.

PLEASE do the most and KEEP VOTING

Project 2025 ain't gonna roll out all at once. So what we're gonna wanna do is make passing each individual part of it as difficult as possible, so there's less to undo once we finally get this country back on the rails.

[holyviolence]

having the most irritating day at work 😊👍

[meangirls-imagines]

Hi. A request here (ignore it it's breaking any of your rules).

I was thinking of Regina George being with masc fem!reader that is actually a softie. I like the idea of a relationship with the dynamic of a mean girlboss and a soft nerdy type, especially if Regina is significantly shorter than the reader.

Imagine the shorter Regina pinning reader against a wall. Or Regina calling reader her 'puppy' because of how she always follows her around the school like a lost puppy or how she lets Regina tell her around without complaints.

Possessive power bottom Regina x Service top Reader (with reader managing to get on Regina's nerves by talking back) 👀

Fire and Ice

Description: For as long as anyone can remember, it had always been Regina and Reader. The complete opposite from each other, it worked perfectly. But, what were the school's power couple like behind closed doors?

WARNINGS: smut, fluff, slight dom/sub dynamics, reader being a little shit

Y/N Y/L/N and Regina George.

Best friends to lovers.

The couple had been deemed North Shore's power couple before they even stepped foot in the hallway. The two had gotten together in sixth grade, proudly open ever since.

As they grew up, Y/N grew into more of a masculine person. She loved sports, hockey specifically, baggy clothes, she cut her hair shorter, got more buff. She was a completely different person now than she was in sixth grade.

Regina, on the other hand, hadn't changed a bit. She was still obsessed with the color pink, designer brands, makeup. Still as feminine as ever.

She always made an exception for Y/N, some days opting to wear the girl's hockey sweatshirts (that were too big on her), a custom made pink jersey with Y/N's last name on it. Everyone knew the two were together.

The question that wouldn't leave anyone's minds:

Who was the top?

The students of North Shore were extremely curious. Most of them assumed it was Regina. But, there was that small percentage of people that thought Y/N was the top.

That small percentage was going strictly off of physical attributes. Y/N was more masculine, she was taller, she didn't take shit from her girlfriend. She had to be the top.

The 90% that believed Regina was the top had right to do so. Y/N followed her girlfriend around school as if she was a lost puppy. It was cute, how much Regina had Y/N wrapped around her finger.

The two had the same class schedule, so they always sat together (more like Regina sat on Y/N's lap), they always went to lunch together, walked the halls together. Regina was always watching Y/N at hockey practice and always at her games.

There was also that time Regina and Y/N got into a mini argument in the hall that one day.

Regina was on a mission.

She had heard from Gretchen who heard from Karen who heard from Taylor who heard from Josh that some girl was throwing herself all over Y/N and her girlfriend wasn't trying to stop it.

She spotted Y/N next to her teammate Mark's locker, the two no doubt talking about the upcoming tournament they were going to play in.

The blonde had turned Y/N by her shoulder and fixed her with a glare. "What the fuck, Y/N?" Y/N looked at her girlfriend confused. "What do you mean, Regina?" The blonde glared harder. "You're gonna tell me you don't recall the slut that was throwing herself over you in your last class?"

Y/N rolled her eyes. "Oh my god, how did you even find out about that? Nothing major happened." The blonde got an angry look on her face and pinned Y/n against the locker, glaring at the taller girl.

Y/N just smirked, keeping a mental note for later, letting Regina have her moment. The blonde looked up at her girlfriend. "You better not let anyone touch what's mine. You got that?" They had gained an audience, everyone watching in anticipation for Y/N's next move.

The girl just smirked and allowed Regina to claim her publicly before the blonde stormed off, clearing a path in the hall like the Red Sea.

Regina got a text 15 minutes later from Y/N.

Y/N❤️: I let you have your moment in the hall. But when we get home later, you're not leaving that bed.

Regina's heart raced in anticipation.

"Fuck, Y/N."

"Take it, Regina."

The blonde was on the verge of her third orgasm. When they got home that day, Y/N had decided to show Regina that she was the only girl for her. Her solution? Making Regina feel good.

She had made her cum twice with just her fingers and mouth and was on the verge of making her cum for a third time with her strap. Regina's brain had been turned into mush as all she could focus on was Y/N.

"Fuck, Regina. You take me so well. Can't believe you thought I'd entertain the thought of another girl taking me from you."

Regina couldn't speak. Her senses were overwhelmed with Y/N. The girl was making her feel things that only she could make her feel.

"I'm all yours, Regina. Forever. I don't want anyone else. But, there's one thing I do want. And that's for you to cum on my cock." She reached a hand down in-between Regina's legs and began to rub the bundle of nerves that rested there.

The blonde felt her eyes roll back. Y/N's cock was hitting all of the right places. She felt her climax rapidly approaching as Y/N pounded her.

"Cum for me, Regina. You can do it." Regina felt her entire body tense as she came around Y/N's cock. The girl continued to slowly thrust, allowing Regina to ride through it. The blonde shook from the aftershocks of her climax and the feeling of Y/N's slow thrusts.

Y/N was peppering her face with soft kisses as she came down. "You looked so pretty, Regina. So beautiful. Wanna make you cum again, pretty girl."

Regina gushed around Y/N's cock. With the way her girlfriend was talking to her, she would let her make her cum as much as she wanted, but Regina's body had limits.

Y/N continued the soft kisses. "Will you let me make you cum one more time, sweet angel? Just one more. Then we'll be done. Please." The blonde nodded, pulling Y/N into a more heated kiss. Y/N's thrusts slowly sped up as the blonde moaned into her mouth.

Regina was officially fucked out.

Y/N smirked and sped up her thrusts. "God, Regina, I can't believe you thought I'd go after someone else. Not when you take me so fucking well. Only want you. Only want your pussy." Regina felt heat wash over her body at Y/N's words.

"'M gonna cum. Y/N, please." The blonde's words slurred together as Y/N's cock began to hammer in and out of her. Y/N smirked and began to rub Regina's clit again. "Cum for me, baby. Come on, pretty girl. Cum all over my cock."

Regina saw white as the pleasure bubble burst. Her whole body felt like it was ascending to another dimension as Y/N whispered sweet nothings to her as she came down.

Y/N pulled out and went into Regina's bathroom to grab a wet cloth. She came back and gently cleaned between her legs, whispering praise at Regina's whimpers. She threw the towel to the side, making the blonde drink some water before pulling her into her arms.

"I'm yours, Regina. Forever. No one compares to you, baby girl." Regina sleepily smiled at the girl's words and drifted off.

The next day, when the two walked into the school, everyone's question was answered. Regina walked limped while wearing the pink hockey jersey as Y/N walked next to her, a huge smirk on her face.

That 10% of the school that had guessed Y/N would never let anyone else live it down.

[strangelysamantha]

leverage ☆

rafe cameron x fem!reader.

warnings: kidnapping, violence, mention of drugs, swearing, rude comments, guns, abuse, threats.

summary: when barry doesn’t get his money from rafe, he goes to the next best thing. you.

a/n: thought about this randomly haha. i hope you enjoy and if you do, please like and comment! :) requests are open and even if you don’t have a request, you can always ask a question or tell a funny joke instead. <3

master list is pinned.

——————————————————————————

“if you don’t give me the money, your ass is gonna be sorry.” barry stared at rafe while he ran his hands through his hair. “i promise. i’ll get you the money, man. i just need some time.” barry laughs, “you better or this won’t be pretty.” barry hesitated before continuing, “and, i mean you don’t have a lot of time. i'd say a week max.” rafe nodded, understanding. “alright. i’ll get it, don’t worry.” barry laughs, “i’m not worried, trust me on that.” he smirked before walking inside his trailer. rafe hopped on his motorcycle, speeding away. his mind running as he thought of ways to come up with twenty grand. he only had a week, and he was definitely stressing out.

rafe didn’t inform you about his entanglement with barry. perhaps if he had brought it up, you wouldn’t be where you were currently. you were working, just going on about your day. a customer had asked you to walk them to your car. it was an elderly woman; you couldn’t deny her some assistance. you smile, “of course! which car is yours?” you asked, heading towards the parking lot.

in retrospect you should have concluded how abnormal it was for an elderly woman to have parked so far away in such a dark car. she laughed once you approached the car, and that was when a rock was smashed against your skull. then a sack was thrown over your head. rope contained your hands, forcing them against your back, burning from the fiction of the rope rubbing together.

you stopped fighting, realizing it was useless, and whoever was kidnapping you would only become more agitated and aggressive. you were pushed into what felt like a backseat, a needle inserted into your arm, making you unconscious.

the next time you wake up, it’s in an unfamiliar room. it’s dark, and humid. you try and lift your arms but realize they were still held together firmly, with rope behind your back. as well as your wrists, your ankles were tied together too. you tried to speak, and surprisingly your voice, despite being hoarse, was able to make noise. “hello?” you called out.

barry walks in, a gun in his hand. “oh wakey wakey sunshine.” your face twists with confusion

. “i- what? why? why am i tied up? what’s going on?” you bombard him with questions he never answers. “that boyfriend of yours… he’s not going to be so happy now, is he? he’s short, 20 grant short, and because he can’t pay me, i’m gonna take the next valuable thing he has. that’s you.” you close your eyes, inhaling deeply. you didn’t want to freak out and spiral. “he’s not my boyfriend. i mean what the fuck barry?” you stared up at him. “oh, oh shit. you actually aren’t rafe's girlfriend?” you roll your eyes. “no. he doesnt want to date me.” you frown at your own confession. barry looks at you with sympathy. it didn’t last though, now he was overwhelmed because the leverage he thought he had wasn’t even leverage. “shit… man.”

rafe on the other hand, was terrified. while rafe wasn’t your boyfriend, he definitely liked you the most out of all of his friends. he concluded that he loves you, but he’s been too scared to make any moves. that wasn’t what terrified him though, what was currently nagging at rafe was the fact that you hadn’t met with him. the two of you had a daily schedule that included you stopping by his house after work.

with you not stopping by his house, on top of you not answering his texts. he began to feel worried. rafe's phone dinged indicating he got a message, and he practically sprinted to the phone. he saw a message from barry, it was a video. he hesitated before opening it. his eyes widened in horror as the video he was watching was of you. a gun pressed against your temple while you were tied up in a chair.

he tightened his grip around his phone, his jaw clenched, and chest heavy. he examines the video playing in front of him, inspecting it to see if he recognizes the background. rafe’s heart hurts as he has to rewatch you fear for your life due to his mistakes. he unfortunately didn't recognize the background.

he didn’t have time to play games, he immediately responded to barry. he shot back a text, asking why the fuck he had you, and where he was. barry immediately responded, do you have the money? rafe groaned, his hands on his head as he paced around his living room. his heart was stinging at the thought of the situation he had put you in. he should have saw this coming, should have noticed that you were the thing barry could ruin.

you stared at barry, tears welling in your eyes. he frowned at your condition, "poor girl, i'm sorry you're in the middle of this, but i'm not letting rafe get away with robbing me." you gasp for air, "please don't kill me." he sighed, bending down in front of your chair, he moved your hair out of your face. "i'm not going to hurt you sweetheart. i know its dramatic, but you won't be harmed," he smirks to himself, "how about you help me?" your face contorts into confusion, "how?" you look away. "how much does rafe care about you?" you sigh, unsure of how to respond. "tell me or there will be issues. i said i wouldn't kill you, but that's only if you cooperate with me."

"he said before that he loves me, he wants us to date, but when i asked him, he told me he had bigger stuff on his plate. he wouldn't have time for me. after that, it became weird..." your voice trails off, he hums in response. "i see, so he loves you, but he's worried he'll corrupt you." you nod slightly. "you're the only girl in his life, yeah?" you shrug, "yeah, but even then, he won't date me." this causes a smirk to hang on barry's lips. "what if we got back at him? he dragged you along, and he stole my money. what if we worked together?" the thought of backstabbing rafe made you nauseous. barry could tell you were reluctant. "do it or i will make sure he'll never be able to find you again, you'll be deep in the ocean with no chance of being discovered." his words terrified you, "okay, okay. just tell me what to do." he hands you your phone. "you're gonna call him. tell him you're okay. say that i let you go, out of the kindness of my heart." you nod sheepishly. dialing his number, rafe immediately picks up.

"are you okay? what's going on?" you sigh, "i'm okay, he let me go." your words shock rafe, he's silent. "i don't know, he just let me go out of the kindness of his heart. i'm okay." he's relieved, but he's aware that he still had a lot of cash he needed before he could make it right. "can we meet?" he asks. you look up at barry and he shakes his head no. "uh maybe in a bit. i'm a little shaken up. i want to shower and have some time y'know?" you explain. "i understand, just call me whenever you're ready, okay?" you smile softly, "of course, goodbye." you hang up, barry claps. "very good performance, i even believed it."

"what's your plan?" he grins happy you asked. "you're gonna be my girlfriend. you're gonna stay here with me, help me bag up the drugs, count cash, and when rafe decides to return the money, he'll see you here with me. we will kiss or whatever, and you're going to tell him that you saw the good in me. that you fell so hard at my words. rafe will realize he waited too long." while the idea of this was supposed to upset you, the thought of rafe seeing what he was missing out on, gave you a sort of edge. you thought that maybe you can come out of this with rafe announcing his love for you. "okay. will you drive me to mine? i want to change out of my greasy work clothes." he grins grabbing his keys, "of course baby." you narrowed your eyes at him, "just because were pretending to date doesn't mean you have to call me cute names." he chuckles, "we need to practice that way its convincing."

you sigh realizing how deep of a mess you were actually in. it made you feel better knowing that you weren't actually trying to do anything. you had to do this, barry had put your life on the line. if you didn't obey his every order, you could find yourself tied back up in a chair. "okay. how will we make this convincing?" he chuckles, "itll be easy. we're gonna get you cleaned up, then i'm going to have rafe meet me here. he'll see you working for me and man he'll get so angry."

you nod, and he unties you from the chair. he leads you to his motorcycle, speeding off to your house. upon arrival, he allows you to go inside to change. “i’m coming with. no time for any games.” you scoff but head inside. he follows you to your room, you hop into the shower. barry looks around your room. seeing your decor, jewelry; and photos of you and friends. he quirks a small smile, barry was very impressed by himself. he figured this was probably his best idea yet. once out of the shower you change into shorts and a shirt. you hesitate when you saw your reflection in the mirror. you were terrified of what might happen.

“so, we need to wait a few days, make it seem like it has time to naturally develop, yknow?” you nod, “yeah that makes sense.” he holds his hand out. “i’m gonna need your phone.” you roll your eyes, “why?” he tsks, coming into your personal space. “because i don’t trust you.” he snatches your phone from you, drafting out a text for rafe. going to need some time, today was a lot. i’m sorry. he smiles, satisfied with the text, he sends it. your heart swells again, fear crowding your senses. “pack a bag.” you nod following his instructions.

“okay good.” he picks up your bag, “we’re going back to mine, i need some help.” you cowardly follow him out of your own house, getting back onto his motorcycle. your head was swarming, but you tried to clear it as best as you could. you arrived back at barry’s trailer, heading inside, he sets you up with a scale to help him measure out his drugs. you sigh but start to fill the baggies. “good, you work on this for a bit and i’ll be back later.” he speeds away, and you continue the task.

shortly after, you hear a motorcycle approaching. assuming it’s barry you don’t move, continuing so he doesn’t yell at you. after four loud bangs, you can hear rafe on the other side of the door. you nervously glance around. unfortunately, barry had your phone. despite how badly you wanted to open the door, you knew barry would freak out on you. rafe looks around his hands on his head. “yo i got your money, c'mon man.” barry pulls up, seeing rafe.

“what was that?” rafe suddenly turns around. “i have your cash.” barry, impressed by how quickly rafe managed to get the money, eagerly smirked. “alright come in, we gotta count it.” rafe shakes his head but follows inside. at first, he doesn’t notice you, already used to barry having guest over. barry plops the heavy bag onto the floor, pulling out the stacks of cash. “ooh this shit is nice.” rafe chuckles, “i follow through on my deals, so we good?” he looked over, realizing who was actually messing with his drugs. “what the fuck is she doing here?” you struggle to make eye contact with rafe, your heart hurting. “you told me he let you go?” you look down, staying silent. barry intervenes, “well girls like men who are up front about how they feel…” he chuckles darkly, “wait too long to express it and then you’ll lose em’. ain’t that right pretty girl?” you look up at barry, his eyes locked on yours. “yes that’s right.” rafe could feel his anger boiling over him. he couldn’t believe it. “you really like this fucking loser?” you stop weighing the drugs, finally managing to meet his gaze.

“she’s perfectly content with me country club.” rafe's hands form into a fist. “nah this isn’t right.” he walks closer to you, bending down. he gets onto your level. he stares at barry. “i need to hear it from her.” you swallow a deep gulp, rafe being close to you now. “tell me,” you glance between the two men in front of you. fear settling over you, unsure of what to do. on one hand you weren’t sure if barry was still intent on doing the jealousy gig, but you knew rafe was vulnerable and you couldn’t hurt his feelings.

looking at barry, he mouths a “tell him.” you nod, “look i know it’s really sudden rafe. and i’m really sorry…” your words sting his heart, and his face falls. he doesn’t say anything. “he is just really funny. and he’s sweet to me.” rafe chuckles, unable to control his venomous anger. “yeah and i wasn’t fucking sweet to you? i did everything for you.” you roll your eyes, getting into character. “you LIE. you were the reason i got kidnapped. you don’t tell me how you feel, but i’m just supposed to wait around until YOU feel like the timing is right?” his eyes zoned in on you, he looked you up and down, noticing the powder on your fingers.

he was stuck, he knew something was off. you’d never willingly mess around with drugs, and you definitely wouldn’t be slumming it with barry of all people. “what’s he got you into?” disgust forms on his face, he looks between the two of you, scoffing. you have nothing else to say, so you look at barry. he nods in approval, and you have to hold in a sigh of relief. “see? i keep her tamed.” your face twisted in confusion in a slight second, and rafe caught on. “are you done counting yet? or do you need me to do it for you?” barry laughs, “it’s all here. your debt is paid.” barry places the money back into the bag, “are we done here?” rafe looks at you one more time, “yeah we’re done here.”

without a second of hesitation, he leaves the trailer. his hands cover his face, trying to steady his breathing. he couldn’t fight the anger that was creeping in.

back in barry’s trailer, he’s laughing mischievously. “that went perfect.” you frown, “am i done?” he sighs, “what, are you not having any fun?” you look around, “no, i just am tired. i worked all day and i just want to go to bed. in my bed.” he thinks for a moment. “fine, i’ll take you to yours. get some beauty sleep, but you’re stuck with me for awhile. rafe was on an ego trip regardless. he needs this.” you smile. “thank you.” you grab your bag, and head outside. you see rafe standing against his bike. you glance at him frowning. you wish he could drive you back home.

at your house, barry allows you to have your phone back on the one condition; you wouldn’t rat out the plan to rafe. you agreed, thankful to be able to rest alone. today had been so exhausting. you change into pajamas, hopping into bed. you look at your phone, seeing the numerous missed texts and calls from rafe. you frown, you felt so lost.

after a few minutes of lying in bed, you hear the doorbell ring. you didn’t want to answer it, but you were the only one home at the moment. you head downstairs, opening the door. rafe stands before you, “can we talk?” you move out of the way and invite him inside. “yeah, of course.” he follows you up to your room. you sit on your bed, and he’s pacing your room back and forth.

“do you actually like barry?” you stand up grabbing him, and he settles down. “no, not at all. he told me i had to do this to get back at you or he’d kill me.” rafe stares directly into your eyes, he grabs your neck, pulling you into a deep kiss. he pulls away gently, “i really love you.” he squeezes you tightly; “when i thought he got you… i wanted to kill him.” you place your hand on his cheek. “it hurt me so bad but i didn’t know what else to do.” he frowns at you, “it’s not your fault, i don’t blame you at all.” you pull him into a hug, and he squeezes you firmly, worried to lose you.

“he said we have to keep it going for a week or so.” rafe nods understandingly, “okay. are you willing to do that?” you look down, but he places a hand on your chin to make you look up at him again. “are you comfortable with that?” you close your eyes taking a deep breath, “no, but i have to be.” he groans, “this is all my fault. i’m so sorry.” you sit on the bed, and he joins you. “we’ll get through this. one week and then i’m all yours.” he places his hand on your thigh, giving you a reassuring squeeze. “i’ll be here to protect you.” you kiss him again, “that’s the only motivation i need rafe.” he grins. “if it gets too bad, i’ll fuck some shit up for you.” you nod, “thank you rafe.”

[chuuyrr]

LOWKEY — NAKAHARA CHUUYA

⊹ CW(s): f! reader, pining, falling in love, drunk confessions, kissing, pet names, reader is a pre-med college student

⊹ SYNOPSIS: in which he takes his chance and keeps you as his secret

inspired by: lowkey and urs by niki !

chuuya lifts an eyebrow when he notices you sniffling from the corner of his eye as he sips the burgundy red liquid from his wine glass.

it was late at night, he had just gotten off work and wanted to have a drink or two from a neighboring local bar, but he wasn't alone.

there was also you, another customer sitting near the end of the bar stools by the counter.

he sighs to himself as he takes a sip from his glass and musters the confidence to turn to you and speak to you, as he is really worried as to why a young woman like you was crying in the bar late at night.

chuuya was a port mafia executive, a criminal from an underground organization, but in truth he was far from heartless.

"hey, miss, you okay?" he asks, tapping the wooden surface of the counter near to get your attention.

you gaze up at him, your eyes tearful and somewhat puffy red as you sniffle, and the sight of you made chuuya's throat dry for some reason.

he wasn't expecting someone as breathtaking as you. apart from your tears, the alcohol in the high ball whiskey you were drinking was also contributing to the blood pouring into your cheeks.

"m'fine," you sniffle softly, wiping at your tears which makes chuuya sighs.

"is someone giving you a bad time, doll?" he asks, concernedly blinking at you and scanning the room for any suspicious people, but there were only the two of you in the bar.

you shake your head, giggling a little at this redhead's genuine care for you. it was quite sweet of him to be honest. as you glance up at him again, you take a long breath to calm yourself and wipe away any leftover tears.

"i was just crying over.. exams." you blurt out, little embarrassed because he appeared to be an influential man involved in something bigger, like a corporation of sorts, given his fancy and expensive coat, bolo tie, and suit that were of black and gray colors.

"exams?" chuuya repeats your answer, blinking as he looks down at you, making you feel even more embarrassed because he appears to be judging you in some way for it.

"mhm," you mutter gently with a nod, rubbing your arm as you stare down at your lap, feeling glum about it, "i failed one of my exams, and it was a major subject of mine, too."

"that's it?" chuuya sighs quietly, which causes you to become quiet, but instead of something more judgmental, you perk up when you hear a chuckle rumble from his throat and escape his lips.

your cheeks get heated, as if from the whiskey you were drinking or your tears weren't making them flushed enough, and you narrow your eyes at him, "h-hey, it's not funny!" you cry out.

chuuya snickers as he shakes his head, and you wonder if it's the wine making you hazy and all, or if it's something about him—the way he sounded as he laughed and smiled.

he also appears to be genuine, despite his arrogant looking-exterior, and you could tell there was some sort of mysterious allure behind him, as if he was a part of something bigger that you couldn't quite pin down.

"sorry, doll," he sighs, still grinning at you, "you just had me worried there for a second there, you know? you cry like you're on the big screen."

"it was a major exam," you sigh, turning away from him as you finish the last of your whiskey, "and it might not mean anything to someone like you given your status and appearance, but it is a big deal to me."

"i'm failing quizzes, and now an exam, so yeah, it's all a big deal to someone like me because how else am i gonna be a doctor someday with low grades, you know?" you continue, feeling your eyes become glassy with tears again as you pinch the bridge of your nose.

"hey, now. hey, i didn't mean it like that, sweetheart," chuuya says softly as he realizes he has offended you in some manner, "i just thought you got hurt or something, and you're the one here in the bar drinking apart from me."

"well, thanks for your concern," you say softly, sniffling and fidgeting with the empty glass that was previously full with whiskey to escape his stare, "i just needed a pick me up.."

chuuya feels an unpleasant pause following the end of the conversation. he watches in silence and nibbles the inside of his cheek as you you call the bartender's attention to order another glass of whiskey.

he could still see the melancholic glint in your pretty eyes. it makes him feel bad for laughing about your circumstance. it's a big deal for you, and it was quite strange for chuuya as well.

chuuya was a port mafia executive, and considering his line of work, he shouldn't be distracted, let alone this soft, but he can't stop himself. he's growing soft for someone like you.

"her drink is on me," chuuya says, drawing the bartender's attention just as you were ready to pull out some cash from your wallet, "and i'll order some chocolate-drizzled hazelnut brittle for her."

your eyes widen as the bartender nods to chuuya and serves your beverage beside the chocolate brittle that actually complements the new glass of whiskey he's got you as well.

"why?" you murmur, blinking at him, confused.

"you said you needed a pick-me-up, didn't you? and besides, you seemed like the type to get something sweet with your whiskey." chuuya shrugs as he downs his wine, turning his face away with his gloved hand covering half of his face, just so you wouldn't see the growing blush on his cheeks.

he says in a hushed tone, "just think of it as me making it up to you for earlier, okay?"

with his kindness, you find yourself actually smiling, having forgotten about the exam and how you were crying about it.

maybe he wasn't so bad after all.

it doesn't take long for him to know you were a regular at this bar, and how you frequently come here and drink when you're stressed out as he learns from the bartender.

chuuya isn't even aware of it, yet he's gradually becoming comfortable and used to you, and it was all because of how he just happened to see you crying that evening when you were drinking your sadness away with some whiskey.

it was a pleasant change of pace for once because he wasn't talking about work that included killing or any underground organization businesses like smuggling.

instead, chuuya was conversing with a college student who is more concerned about failing the exams or receiving a low mark from her professor than with being mugged or shot.

instead of being entranced by gunpower and blood, it was the the familiar aroma of your high ball whiskey and his red wine, and the vanilla scent of your perfume clinging on cardigan every time, and he takes solace in that in secret.

and chuuya listens to everything you say, even if he considers the medical jargons and chemistry-related things you talk about puzzling and nonsense as he didn't really quite gets them at all.

but, in fact, these nights became his favorites—something chuuya grew to look forward to like an addiction, and he misses it whenever he can't come to the bar because you're so busy with college.

he was clearly beginning to feel things for you, because why would a port mafia executive like himself have time for an mere college student that was constantly stressed-out, but he resents it in some way.

he despises how sincere and nice you were because it caused him to lose his guard. his stomach was doing flips all the time around you, which was driving him mad.

at the end of the day, or rather evening, it makes him hopeless to think about you and everything, and it's unfortunate.

you and him come from different worlds in the sense that he revels in the darkness and violence as mori's executive, and the fact that he kills makes him a bad person, and you?

you were so good—too good to be true for him, living in the light, going out with your friends and peers, and studying your love-hate pre-med course. you even aspire to be a doctor someday to help others, which contrasted with him having to kill and do such things as a member of an underground organization.

eventually, from his plethora of thoughts and wild emotions, it all comes down to him beginning to wonder what would it be like to be loved by someone like you.

would he wake up to you rushing to get ready in the morning? would he be able to accompany you while you studied and memorized terms? to comfort you and listen to you recite mnemonics he'll never understand?

would he be the one to give you a bouquet as you hold up your college degree someday?

it was all simple domestic notions invading his head now instead of work, but he had never wanted it so badly before, and it was suddenly as important to him as your college course was to you.

it really makes him sad.

still, he was a port mafia executive.

what would your family think? your college friends think? what would you think if you learned the truth about chuuya, from what he does to the kind of person he really was?

would you run away from him if you knew?

it was another of his late evenings with you, and you were drinking whiskey again—a drink to which chuuya had grown accustomed to.

tonight, you were drinking a little too much tjan usual, but to be fair, you had just passed another round of examinations this month, and you were drinking both in joy and in dread.

while you were relieved to have it over with, you are still concerned about the outcome.

your cheeks were red from all the alcohol you had consumed, but you've also been starring at chuuya for quite some time now, blinking in a haze, not realizing you had been staring since half past two.

your gaze travels from his plush cheeks and lips to his ocean eyes. how come you're only recognizing how handsome he was in person after spending so much time with him? was it the alcohol affecting you?

hmm, or maybe it was something else? you do feel your chest warmer and fuzzier than usual.

in any case, you continue to drink your whiskey while giggling to yourself and shaking your head.

chuuya lifts a brow, finding your little giggle as you drink rather endearing, "what's so funny, doll?"

"hmm, someone's getting tipsy," he murmurs softly afterwards, extending his hand out subconsciously to cup your face. chuuya bites his lower lip, watching you lean against his palm as his thumb tenderly carresses your cheek.

"and someone's pretty right now," you giggle again, looking up at him with flushed cheeks.

"huh?" chuuya hums in confusion, though he was finding the words you were uttering quite silly.

"you're.. really pretty, you know?" you murmur softly as you place down the now empty glass on the bar table, smiling softly at him.

"don't you mean yourself, sweetheart?" chuuya chuckles and shakes his head as he finds himself booping your nose, making you smile and giggle even more. yeah, you were becoming tipsy, and he thinks it's adorable.

your [color] eyes gradually narrow as you push your body forward towards him. chuuya's eyes widen for a minute as he notices you leaning against his chest, resting your head against the crook of his shoulder from your seat.

"[name]? y-you okay, doll?" chuuya sputters out, blinking as one of his hands gently moves to your back to rub it comfortingly for you while the other remains on your cheek.

"and you smell so nice too.." you murmur softly, continuing to speak and closing your eyes, not really answering his question at this point.

chuuya takes a deep breath, burying his face in your hair, before wrapping his arms around you and pulls you to his chest, as you softly mumble more stuff at him. as his gloved fingers begin to comb through your hair, his chest rumbles a chuckle.

you two continue to sit on your cushioned seats at the bar like this, and right now, it was just you and him, together with the fragrance of whiskey and wine, and the mellow ambiance being provided by the soft and quiet jazz music playing from the bar's radio.

he eventually rises up from his seat and decides to pull you out of the bar not long after, seeing that you need some fresh air and to be taken home right away.

chuuya was a gentleman, and he wouldn't want you arriving home too drunk, let alone late in the evening.

he wraps his arm around you as he gently pulls you outside, but it sinks into his skin again. the dreadful truth.

even if chuuya really wanted to, he can't be with you like this.. at least that's what he thinks.

you open your eyes, lifting your head when you feel chuuya pull his arms away from you all of a sudden.

"chuuya?" you mutter softly, tilting your head.

"sorry, sweetheart," chuuya sighs shakily, attempting a chuckle, but his smile this time held sorrow as he glances at you and curses under his breath, closing his eyes, "it's just... fuck, i don't wanna ruin this night for you."

"huh, w-what are you talking about?" you ask, blinking in confusion and sobering up as you realize just how serious chuuya was right now.

"baby, an angel like you can't fly down hell with me," chuuya says, looking deep into your eyes before leaning in, his lips to your ear as he whispers, "i'm from the port mafia, and an executive at that too."

as he speaks, his eyes are filled with sadness and perhaps shame. it was apparent that chuuya was not as proud of his work or his life as you were. in fact, how could he compare to someone as good as you in the first place?

it was quite pathetic of him. really.

who would have guessed that someone as arrogant and influential as him would be confessing like this outside a local bar in the middle of the night?

if his friends and colleagues were to see him like this, they would probably laugh, and most importantly think he was an entirely different person.

he finds himself holding his breath, already bracing himself for your reaction with a part of him anticipating you to freak out or get angry.

chuuya watches your eyes widen as he confesses, his heart pounding in his chest. he then lowers his eyes, his head bowed in shame, but he manages a shaky response, "but really, it's okay, baby. you don't even have to love me."

chuuya, however, is surprised to just feel your head rest against his chest again instead of a furious reaction.

"doll?" chuuya asks in surprise, blinking at you.

"i don't have to love you, yes," you whisper softly, your hands reaching for his sleeves, reluctant to let him go, "but i do."

"w-what?" chuuya was in disbelief, and now his eyes were wide—the tables turned.

"i don't mind if you're a port mafia executive," you remark, looking up at him, your hands clenched so tightly around the fabric of his coat that it was bunching in your grip, "i don't wanna ever leave this, these nights we have.. chuuya.."

"fuck, c'mere," chuuya curses under his breath in a hushed tone, and before you two even knew it, his arms wrap around your waist, pulling you to the back of the bar with him, being impossibly closer to you than before.

you feel your back press against the brick wall of the place where you and you him had just left. for a brief time, his forehead brushes against yours, and you find yourself leaning in and melting into the warm skin contact.

chuuya cups your face in his hands and talks quietly, his breath and the whiff of wine hitting your face, "guess you're flying down to hell with me then, hmm?"

"then, to hell with it," you say back in hushed tone, looking into his eyes, "i'm already yours."

chuuya then slams his lips to yours.

"m-mmh," you quietly moan into the kiss. it feels so warm, and you can taste the wine on his tongue mingling with the whiskey on yours, as well as the hint of tenderness in the kiss.

the alcohol intoxicated your mind, but in a nice way that all you could think about in the heat of the moment was his lips against yours and his arms holding you so closely to him, as if you were going to run away from him.

"hush now, love," his words came out in whispered yet sweet mumbles, punctuated by every press of his lips on yours as he continued to kiss, and oh, you tasted so heavenly.

chuuya could taste the whiskey on your tongue, combined with the minty flavor of cherry gloss on your lips, and smell your ever familiar yet soothing vanilla perfume lingering on your skin and sweater, and he adores it.

it was something he could become hooked to—something he looked forward to every time.

in between kisses, you see a smile pulling on your lips, and you giggle, and he laughs as well.

you glance up at him, swaying slightly from the glasses of whiskey you've just had, and it makes him chuckle even more since he honestly feels the same way, and his hands grip you even more securely and closely as a result and to steady himself too.

"guess we're a little too fucked up to stay still from the drinks, huh?" chuuya chuckles as you rest your head against his chest, nestling it beneath his chin, his arms still encircling you.

"you know, my apartment is just nearby, and it's vacant," you say softly.

"noted, love," chuuya hums, knowing exactly where he'll be tonight, and honestly, he doesn't mind. his penthouse was just as empty and lonely even, and the thought of being with you tonight in yours was all he needed.

you giggle again, unable to stop smiling at all as you close your eyes and bury your face in the fabric of his clothes, finding comfort in the aroma of wine and cigarettes from him, as well as his cologne.

"wonder what i'll do when the cops come through and the whiskey's run out?" you murmur softly, a random thought arising from the alcohol in your system, but you continued to smile, "or worse.. when my parents find out?"

"well, that's too bad, because i'm already yours, doll," chuuya says into your hair, his nose tracing your forehead and cheek before leaning in for another kiss on your lips, closing the distance between the two of you again.

he then brushes a loose strand of your hair behind your ear and presses his forehead against yours once more, "but that's easy to answer, doll."

"then how?"

"we keep it lowkey."

"lowkey?"

"no one's gotta know, just us and the moon til' the sun starts wakin'"

you like this night. everything was just right and you couldn't care less about anything.

⊹ A.N.: i know what you're thinking, and yes, niki writes a fic that isn't inspired by a taylor swift song for once—i had picked up on niki again while i was listening to lowkey and urs, i couldn't help but imagine chuuya !! ⊹.(⁎˃﹏˂⁎)˚. <3

⊹ P.S.: reader may or may not have been inspired by me, your stressed out biochem college girlie (except i haven't drank in months so FAHEHDJSK pls don't drink if ur underage smh)

[kikyoupdates]

Love Bite ⭑˚🩸⭑ 𝑓𝑖𝑟𝑠𝑡 𝑏𝑖𝑡𝑒

yandere!vampires x f!reader

yandere, reverse harem, original characters, vampire!ocs x fem!reader

Desperate for money to pay off your debts, you sign up for a program that allows you to sell your blood to vampires. At first, everything is fine, and you’re finally able to make ends meet. But they soon begin craving more than just your blood.

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Certain people are dealt a shittier hand in life than others, and unfortunately, you are one of those people.

Life has never been easy for you. As far back as you can remember, it's been one shitstorm after the other. Your parents are as good as dead to you, because all they ever did was make reckless choices and run away, leaving you to clean up their mess. That's how, at the young age of twenty, you've already got more debt than the average person could ever fathom.

Still, you make do. You hustle as best you can to get through one day and move on to the next. It's exhausting, and sometimes it feels like you're ready to give up, but against all odds, you persevere.

"That'll be 50 credits," the cashier says.

You let out a sigh and give her your card. Everything is so goddamn expensive these days. Even a simple grocery trip feels like a big slap in the face.

"Oh. Sorry," she blinks. "It's been declined. Do you have any other form of payment on hand?"

Shit. This one too?

You mumble an apology and dig through your wallet again. Thankfully, you happen to have enough cash to cover the cost. Just barely.

"Thank you for shopping with us," the cashier recites monotonously. She packs your groceries in a bag and hands it to you, then gestures for the next customer to step forward.

You leave the store the same as always, feeling worn-down and discouraged. You'll have to apply for a new card, but who knows when they'll send it to you. Goddammit. You're already scraping the bottom of the barrel as is. You hardly have enough emergency savings to last until then.

It's a shitty day, and unfortunately for you, it's about to get even worse.

"[Name]," a distinct, familiar voice mutters. You flinch at the sound, nearly dropping your grocery bag in the process. There's a man standing outside your apartment complex. A man that always makes your stomach crease in discomfort.

You instinctively step back. "I don't want any trouble, Johnny. Please, can I just get through?"

He ignores you and walks over, and while you stand there, stiff from fright, he peeks into your grocery bag and hums, visibly amused.

"Not exactly a lavish dinner," he chuckles. "But I guess you've got no choice but to be frugal, huh?"

"I just want to go home," you plead. "Please. Don't do this."

Alas, Johnny has never been one to give a shit about your circumstances, and today is no exception.

"I haven't been getting the money you promised me," he glares. "You've been late on your payments, and I'm really starting to lose my patience here."

You try to protest, but he wraps his hand around your throat and forcibly pins you against a wall. He isn't applying too much pressure, not yet, but the threat is there all the same.

"You owe me money, [Name]." His pupils constrict, a telltale sign that he's furious. "I'm done with your shitty excuses. If you can't make good on your promises, then you pay the price. This is the way the world works."

He holds you there, just so he can watch you whimper and cower in fear, then he eventually releases his hold on you and steps away.

"I'm giving you one more week," he says. "If you don't come up with the amount we agreed on in one week, I might seriously have to kill you. And don't even think of running away like your parents did. I'm sure as hell not gonna make the same mistake twice."

Johnny walks off with a steady, relaxed gait and his hands buried in his pockets. It's that easy for him. He can threaten an innocent woman and not think anything of it, the sick bastard.

You sniffle and resist the urge to cry. Fuck your parents. All they ever did was ruin your life. You have no idea where they're hiding right now, but for their own sake, they had better not show their faces around you ever again.

Still. There's no point in lamenting what can't be changed. Your parents are gone. It's up to you to remedy this situation and pay that disgusting loan shark back.

The question is, how?

How in the world will you pull that off? You barely make enough to eat two meals a day and cover your rent, let alone the steep cost of your debts.

It just seems like a lost cause. You've been working yourself to the bone, but you still can't even make a dent in what your parents owe. It's all too much to bear. It makes you want to forfeit your life entirely. At least then, you might finally be able to rest in peace.

Weighed down by the hopelessness of your situation, you trudge into your crappy studio apartment, chuck the groceries in the fridge, and plop down on the couch, defeated.

I guess it's time to look for another job. Something I can squeeze into my schedule. I can probably survive without sleeping a few days in a row, right?

You chuckle brokenly and scroll through your phone, looking for anything you might have a shot at. Finding a good job in this city is yet another hopeless dream for someone like you, who didn't go to college and doesn't have any other notable qualifications. All of your current jobs may as well be paying you dirt, which is why you can never meet Johnny's ridiculous demands.

You're just about to give up and go make yourself a rather pathetic dinner, when suddenly, something catches your eye.

[𝗡𝗘𝗪 𝗣𝗥𝗢𝗚𝗥𝗔𝗠 𝗟𝗔𝗨𝗡𝗖𝗛]: 𝗕𝗹𝗼𝗼𝗱 𝗱𝗼𝗻𝗼𝗿𝘀 𝘄𝗮𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗱. 𝗦𝘂𝗰𝗰𝗲𝘀𝘀𝗳𝘂𝗹 𝗮𝗽𝗽𝗹𝗶𝗰𝗮𝗻𝘁𝘀 𝘄𝗶𝗹𝗹 𝗰𝗼𝗼𝗽𝗲𝗿𝗮𝘁𝗲 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝘃𝗮𝗺𝗽𝗶𝗿𝗲 𝗰𝗶𝘁𝗶𝘇𝗲𝗻𝘀 𝗼𝗻 𝗮𝗻 𝗮𝘀-𝗻𝗲𝗲𝗱𝗲𝗱 𝗯𝗮𝘀𝗶𝘀.

Vampires. Not long ago, a law was passed, granting vampires access to the city. More and more of them seem to be moving here, the central hub of the country. Of course, most people felt uncomfortable with this change, but it seems to be a necessary step in fighting back against years of discrimination. Humans naturally fear vampires, and the government is doing everything it can to integrate them into society.

Since drinking blood by force is considered a crime, this program is most likely a way for vampires to obtain their blood safely and without any consequence, just so long as people are willing to sign up for it.

You take a moment to assess your situation. You have almost no money to your name, and there's a greedy loan shark that's just itching to torture you if you fail to pay him back in time. If you don't get some money, and fast, you're probably headed for the afterlife.

That being said, you've never encountered a vampire before. You've heard all sorts of horror stories about them. That they're physically stronger than humans, have more acute senses, and could easily bludgeon you to death if they wanted to.

But even if that's actually true, how is it any different than what Johnny will do to you if you don't pay him back?

You press your lips together. Perhaps there's no harm in trying at least once and seeing how it'll go. It's not like you're guaranteed to get accepted for the program anyways. And besides, this is being implemented by the government, so surely, they won't allow any humans to come to harm in the process.

Above all else, you are incredibly desperate, with very little to lose.

So, you decide to take a gamble.

𝗔𝗣𝗣𝗟𝗬 [𝗫]?

...

Your luck might finally be changing for the better, or maybe they're just desperate for applicants, but either way, you got the job.

It was a bit tedious. The screening process was rather lengthy, and they made you do quite a few medical tests to ensure you didn't have any infectious diseases or anything like that. You suppose having a clean bill of health is the one thing required for this position, considering you'll be giving your blood to someone else. Thankfully, even though your life is shit, you've always been rather sturdy, which is the only reason you've lasted this long.

You're currently walking through a glossy white corridor. The building you're in is polished and sleek, some kind of medical company that's been researching vampires for quite a long time. They call themselves Plasma Inc., which is a bit tacky, but you're certainly in no position to judge.

The doctor escorting you holds a clipboard against his chest, and glances over at you every so often.

"We're almost there," he says. After a brief pause, he adds, "There's no need to be nervous."

Honestly, you're a little nervous, but only because you've never done this before. Giving your blood to a vampire... it all sounds so farfetched. You really didn't think this was something you'd ever be doing.

But beggars can't afford to be choosers.

"For the client's privacy and peace of mind, there aren't any cameras inside the room. We will not be able to see or hear anything that happens in there. You signed the confidentiality clause, so please keep in mind that you will be liable for any private information that you happen to disclose."

You knew as much going into this. There's no point in psyching yourself out. Everything's going to be fine. This is all perfectly safe.

...it should be, at least.

"Whenever you're ready," the doctor says. He's stopped in front of a door, and you instinctively gulp as you imagine what—or rather, who—is on the other side.

Okay, then. No reason to back out now. You chose this. It's a desperate measure, and sure, you'll lose a bit of blood in the process, but if it helps you pay off your debt and get back on your feet, then it's easily worth it.

"I'm ready," you say.

The doctor nods briefly, offers you an encouraging smile, then opens the door.

It closes behind you right away, and your eyes instinctively search the room until they land on a motionless, seated figure.

It's a man. Well, a vampire, but still a man. Deep down, you'd been hoping that it might be a woman. A man seems somewhat more intimidating, although you suppose all vampires are stronger than humans, so it wouldn't have made a difference either way.

He's beautiful, though. Vampires are scarce in numbers, and they don't usually go out during the day, so it's unlikely that you would have ever passed by one. But you've only ever heard people speak of them in frightening terms. Never in a million years did you imagine they'd be so utterly gorgeous. Or perhaps this particular vampire is simply an exception.

You don't quite realize how much time you've spent fawning over his appearance until he suddenly stands up.

Instinctively, you flinch, and it's clear that it doesn't go unnoticed.

He narrows his eyes. "If you're not comfortable doing this, you're welcome to leave. I was told that the humans who signed up for this program were all completely willing. I have no intention of taking your blood without your full cooperation."

"Oh. S-Sorry," you stammer. "I'm not uncomfortable. I guess I'm just a little bit starstruck. It's my first time meeting a vampire."

"There's no need to gawk at me. I'm not some animal trapped inside a cage."

He has a rather harsh tongue, but again, you're in no position to judge. Perhaps your reaction offended him, unintentional as it may have been.

"Sorry," you say again, then you offer him a weak smile. "Um... I'm [Name]. I'm not really sure what the etiquette for this sort of thing is, but it's nice to meet you."

It takes him a while to respond. He studies you quietly with those mesmerizing eyes of his, and the silence is awkward, to say the least.

"I'm Xavier," he finally replies. He frowns a bit. "But I didn't come here to chat. If you're ready, I'll like to move on with this as soon as possible."

Right. He's here for the same reason you are. It's not an opportunity for the two of you to exchange pleasantries.

You're here to sell your blood, and he's here to drink it.

"Okay," you swallow. Now that it's come down to it, you can feel your heart beating faster by the second. But this is fine. This is nothing. Compared to all the shit you've already been through, this may as well be a walk in the park.

You walk over to him, taking slow, careful steps, then you sit down in one of the chairs. He does the same, staring at you without blinking the whole time. You watch as he shuffles a bit closer, and he uses his fingers to pull down the collar of your shirt slightly. You shiver at the sensation of his skin brushing against yours. God, his hands are cold.

Xavier stares right into your eyes. "This is your last chance to back out. If you tell me to stop now, I will, but otherwise, I'll take it that you've agreed to move on."

"I'm fine," you reassure. Despite the fact that your stomach is a bundle of nerves right now, you're determined to press on. You need this. There's simply no other option.

You'll do whatever it takes to live on, even if it means selling the very essence that grants you life in the first place.

"Okay," Xavier says, and he wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you closer. His jaw unhinges, and the last thing you see before you squeeze your eyes shut is the pearly-white color of his bright, glistening fangs.

He bites into your neck.  

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[poppy-metal]

UGH and then he shows up at your work and you’re like “fuck off or i’ll tell my manager you’re harassing me” and it’s SOOOO fake. like you’re such a liar.

“quit fucking blocking me and i won’t have to show up here to fucking speak to you.”

“i don’t want to speak to you, you stupid slut.”

“is that any way to talk to a paying customer? maybe i have something to tell your manager too.”

“jump off a cliff.”

“when does your shift finish?”

“why would i tell you that?”

“so i can pick you up after and you can tell me how you really feel back at my apartment.”

“…”

raises his eyes brows.

“6:30.”

giggling and kicking my feet i genuinely need this kind of relationship with him so bad u don't understand.

just deliberately calling him names and being petty because you know the more you piss him off the more your ass is gonna get reamed later - its his fault, anyway. all his intensity and passion made you crave this kind of dynamic - you used to be a good girl with normal taste in men and the desire to settle down with just some guy. now you couldn't get off during sex unless it felt violent - you got fucking bored so easily when there wasn't a fight to be had - you thought if a man didn't track you down by your fucking email and drag you back to his dick by the scruff of your neck, it meant he didn't want you and wasn't worth your time. and how fucked up was that?

so yeah - he could handle a few insults. because fuck him, genuinely. you'd never be the same again after him.

you give him the time your off anyway. and you're fidgeting the whole rest of your shift. nearly bouncing on your heels and by 6:25 you're so amped up - pussy nearly drenching your jean shorts enough to leave a visible stain - that when a customer comes in you actually consider ripping their head off. you throw them onto your coworker instead, tossing them a glare that could freeze over hell when they start to protest.

nothing was going to stand in your way. you'd broken up with patrick two weeks ago. two weeks without his cock stretching you out - diabolical. even though you'd been the one to issue the break and to block him on everything - still, way too fucking long.

you think you might be able to get a few more jabs in - really seal the deal, because if you were honest, being a brat was addicting as hell - but when you approach patricks car and you see him leaned against it, cigarette in hand, just watching you come toward him calmly - you lose your breath.

you're drawn to him like a moth to a flame - willingly diving head first into the jaws of a wolf - and when you're close enough he drops the cig, crushes it underneath his shoe and reaches out - grabs you roughly by the collar of your shirt and yanks you to him. his mouth is on yours and its tongues and teeth and lips and moaning like you're each starving for it. he grips the sides of your face and plunders your mouth with his tongue and you clutch as his waist, scrabbling your hands under his hoodie to feel the warm skin of his stomach.

it twitches under your palms and you hungrily drag your hands up, wanting to feel him and patrick turns, pinning you to his car and fumbling behind you, yanking the back door open.

he pulls back, says, "get in." but hes already shoving you backwards himself and you're falling onto his shitty leather seats and he's following, coming down over you and slamming the door closed with his foot. he kneels over you, hands yanking at his belt - "you dont want me anymore, huh?" rips it through the loops hard enough that it snaps against his wrist when its all the way free. "I'm not serious enough for you?"

he's rehashing all the shit you'd said to him over text and you bite your lip, arching your back - but he places a palm on your stomach, pushes you back down - "this isn't serious." you lie to him and his eyes flash, he fucking hates when you lie to his face. which is why you grin and tell him, "im just horny - you could be anyone -"

patrick nods like, 'aw, yeah?' and you feel an excited shiver go through you - are expecting it but still gasp when he grips you by the waist and roughly rolls you over onto your belly. he's pressed against your back immediately, big and crushing you against the too hot seats. fingers yanking down your shorts and panties at the same time, "you're such a fucking liar." he grunts, lifts up just enough to wrangle his own jeans and boxers down over his ass. "what am I gonna do about that, huh? you know that shit pisses me off."

you moan at the feel of that big dick of his, hard and hot as it slips between your cheeks. the blunt head slippery as it glides over your asshole - "god, i missed this ass, fuck -" you try to lift your hips, make it so he slips down to your pussy where you want him. are ready to take him. but he shoves you back down his pelvis, knocks the breath out of you when he winds his bicep around your neck. "ahh, no. you think you deserve this dick in your pussy after the shit you pulled? i thought i was too small for you- "

you try to cry out when you feel him slip over your hole again, trying to claw at his arm but you cant. your hands are trapped under your body. you're immobile. you've never been so fucking wet in your life.

"stop-" you pant weakly, even as you grind back against him. "not there patrick- please -"

"huh?" he grunts against your ear and you feel the press of his cockhead as it probes your tight asshole. "you tellin me no? said i couldn't have your cunt so im confused, baby -" it pushes futher against the tight ring and you wail. wiggling your hips to try and buck him off but he doesn't move a fucking inch.

"im not ready - i didn't prep - patrick dont. - please, im sorry -"

just the barest inch of his cock is fitted inside the tiny hole. he moves his hips so it presses in and out just barely, and the burn has your pussy weeping. the leather is sticky under you. "that's too bad -" patrick pants against you, his arm flexes against your throat and your eyes roll back at the pain in your ass as he pushes more into you. "- cause you fucking know what happens when you're a brat. knew this was comin'-"

and its true, you did. knew from the start that patricks favorite way to punish you, to work out his anger was on your tight ass.

and thats specifically why you didn't prep yourself.

"you can cry about it, its not gonna change it -" his head finally pops past the resistant ring of your stubborn rim. you squeal and buck under him and he groans, burying his face in your hair - "oh fuck - you're so goddamn tight - grip me with that ass, baby, yes -"

despite your cries and protests he forces himself in inch by inch into the tight passage of your body. until you feel the weight of his heavy balls on your wet pussy. it hurts so fucking bad. you're so full you could die. why is so fucking big?? god you're so turned on. you needed this.

contrary to every action before it, patrick softly kisses the back of your neck. loosens his arm around you just enough that you can sag fully down into the seats below and gulp in air.

"that's it, good girl -" his body completely folds over yours. no part of you seprated as he has you basically prone. he shifts his hips and rocks his cock into your sore ass. "just lay there and let daddy use you now."

you gargle out something of a reply. already drooling from the mouth. and this isn't even the end.

[flowershines]

Say that again

Peeta Mellark x Stripper F. reader

warnings: name calling, smut, dom mike, hard dom, insulting, doggy style, unprotected sex, creampie

Nights usually were not as tense as tonight was, when Peeta had gotten home from his job he got no sleep and of course had to get snotty with you, just because he was tired.

Arguing back and forth to the point of almost screaming just to get their point across, but that wasn’t even the worse part.

Peeta was too tired to argue that he had forgotten what you guys were arguing about making you even more mad, at this point he just kept going to hear his own voice.

But before we get into the arguing currently, the reason the whole argument started was because he insulted your job which of course isn’t that bad but he kept going till he started arguing about the things that you always do wrong.

“Peeta you really should start at least taking a nap before work so that way you dont come home tired.”

“I don’t need your help, Y/n.”

“Oh ok, I was just trying to help, sorry.”

“You should be and I don't want your help just stop being clingy and leave me alone.”

“What is wrong with you, I was just looking out for you.”

“Well don’t it’s not your job, oh speaking of jobs you do yours?”

“I-”

“Exactly what I thought so dont talk to me till you get your priorities straight.”

“You act like I don't have a job.” You said laughing at him

This made him even more pissed, “Oh sorry forgot you get praised by other men by dancing in their face while they put money in your pocket like some filthy piggy bank.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me.” He said inches away from your face then walked away.

“Atleast they fuck better than you.”

“What did you just say.”

“You heard me.” You said mimicking his tone.

Now both of you guys were just arguing about how you started doing your job, defending yourself he just kept coming at you.

When you both first started dating he knew about your job and he was okay with it, because you were helping out the both of you out with the money.

The part that got him riled up was when you said that they fucked better than he does.

You made a deal with him that you wouldn’t have sex with any of the customers.

That’s why he was screaming at you now.

“So do you just go around whoring which every guy you meet or just your customers.”

“I just was saying that to rile you up.”

“No you weren’t, you know what my ex has better pussy than you.”

“Oh for real.”

“Yeah.”

With that you grabbed your jacket and keys then started walking to the door.

“Where you going?”

“Not like you care or anything but i’m going to my job to find a guy that can dick me down, cause you don’t do shit for me.”

“Bull shit, i always make you cum.”

“Oh but apparently you also make your ex cum too, so go fuck her.”

“No Y/n I didn’t mean it.”

“Nah you good, i’m pretty sure there are gonna be cute guys there too. I mean there always is and guess who always gets them, ME.”

Grabbing the door knob you started to put your jacket on and leave to go to your car, you knew that you weren’t going to do any of the things you were taking about.

But you just wanted to see if he actually cared.

He grabbed you hand before you left and threatened you saying.

“If you go fuck some guy i’m fucking my ex and sending a video to you.”

“Fuck you.”

“Fuck you too.”

He held the sides of your face and placed a hard and passionate kiss, he kept kissing you and occasionally biting your lip in the process.

“Ow, Peeta what the fuck.”

“Just shut up and enjoy.”

“How can I you can’t even make me cum.”

“Wanna test that out.”

You laughed in his face riling him up even more than he already is, he pins you against the door and humps his hard on, on your thigh.

“This is what is going to be making you beg that you never said that.”

“Yeah… Okay.” You said laughing again

He continued kissing you roughly and biting your lips and sneaking his tongue into your mouth.

Humping his hard cock on your thigh feeling it twitching, you try your hardest not to give in to his needs.

He grabbed your hand and pulled you into your shared bedroom and pushed you onto the bed.

“Hey!”

“What’s wrong I thought you liked being treated like a slut?”

You just rolled your eyes, he stripped your pants off your legs and kissed from your thigh up to your clothed heat, noticing how wet you are.

“See you like it, fucking slut.”

He pulled your underwear to the side and stick his finger into you then going to suck on your clit.

He adds his middle finger as he fingers you and eats you out at the same time, not wanting to give in to him you didn’t encourage him nor play with his hair.

You just brought your nails up to your face and started looking along with picking at them acting like he wasn’t even doing anything.

This pissed him off, he yanked your underwear off and unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants.

Still looking at your nails you tried to ignore what he was doing but your thoughts were interrupted by him entering you.

You softly moaned trying to have him not hear, his breathing was shaking.

“You like being fucked like this?”

He started to slam his cock in you at a vigorous pace, then he pulled out making you clench around nothing.

He put you on your stomach and told you to put your ass up.

Doing so you grabbed your phone and started playing a coloring game, he then started fucking you again.

“I know your just fucking with me, i know you like this dick by the way you clenching around me.” He grunted

“This pussy is mine, not some random customers.”

He then started going as fast and hard as he could at this point you couldn’t hold it in anymore and gave in to him.

“Fuck.”

He was a groaning and moaning mess behind you.

“I’m gonna cum soon.”

“Fuck, me too.”

He was still going in you he usually has pulled out by now.

“What are you doing?”

“Cumming in you.”

“What? Why?”

“So every time you think of us fucking think of my cum still in you and to remind you of what happens when you pull that shit with me.”

With that he moans in your ear and cums in you.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean anything I said earlier.”

“I know, i’m sorry too.”

[suzukiblu]

For wip Wednesday Love the vibes of “weird Kryptonian bonding rituals” especially if it’s superfam

. . . I am just gonna blame the fact that I haven't really worked on this WIP in a minute for how "write you three sentences" turned into "write you 1k", cough cough.

Clark gets into Superman's suit and leaves the Daily Planet building at inadvisable speed, probably, but manages not to break the sound barrier anywhere too obvious, he thinks. He follows the sound of that thrumming heartbeat and voice, and finds himself blocks and blocks away, hovering in the air a few hundred feet above a food truck being operated by a woman with dark skin and bright pink hair in her mid-twenties, and the single customer standing on the sidewalk in front of it as assorted civilians pass by in one's and two's.

The single customer is the thrumming heartbeat's owner, and he's about fifteen or sixteen, with pale skin and dark curly hair and bright and eager and inhumanly blue eyes behind a pair of round sunglasses. He's wearing a loose-fitting black leather jacket and heavy black boots and a tight bodysuit, all blue and black and red and yellow and with the exact same "S" on its chest as the one Clark's wearing himself.

The kid looks up, takes one look at Clark, and absolutely lights up.

Clark feels several very new and strange feelings, then charges straight down into the kid and sends them both skidding into the empty street. Hitting him, touching him, is like . . .

Clark barely even remembers to be careful, but the instinct is ingrained too deep to ignore even as they crash into the pavement together.

And then the kid laughs delightedly and throws him off.

Actually throws him.

Clark comes to a stop twenty feet up in the air, blinks down at the kid still beaming up at him, and then bolts back down and smashes him into the pavement again.

"Shit!" the food truck worker shrieks in alarm. "Don't hurt him, Superman, he's just a kid!"

Clark . . . pauses, then looks up from said kid that he is currently pinning into the street as he struggles underneath him.

"'Hurt him'?" he asks in reflexive confusion, and then realizes how batting a teenager around like a person-shaped cat toy and pinning him to the street hard enough to crack it probably actually looks to an outside observer.

. . . um.

Whoops.

"Um," he starts awkwardly, and then the kid slips his pin while he's distracted and throws his arms around his neck with a gleeful laugh and a bright grin.

"Dad!" he crows triumphantly, and hugs Clark harder than literally anyone has ever hugged him before, except maybe, like, Ivo in the fullest and most vicious version of his Parasite suit while trying to crush him to death. It's . . . kind of adorable. Although also Clark can't really breathe very well now. "I found you! Hi, hi, I totally found you!"

"You did," Clark agrees reflexively and slightly out-of-breath-ly, patting the kid's back as he shoots the food truck worker and the several other staring civilians back on the sidewalk all an apologetic smile. "Sorry, ma'am, didn't mean to worry you. We're just playing."

"Oh my god so there was this lab and these doctors and they were all such jerks so I maybe kinda just broke everything and I guess maybe that was bad but they all sucked and they deserved it, I promise, I hope they all lost all their data and their personal files and their customization settings when I smashed up their stupid computers and stuff," the kid half-rants, hanging off Clark like a super-strong but also undeniably floating koala, and Clark straightens up and pats his back again as he listens to his excited and also-adorable ramblings. The way the kid talks actually reminds him of a much younger kid, oddly–even younger than Flip and the rest of the newskids, despite his appearance–but that doesn't exactly hurt the "adorable" impression. "Also there were some really annoying guys who were bothering the way cool chick in the truck over there so I threw them in a dumpster but did you know chili fries were a thing because they are so good, seriously, you should get some!"

"Are you asking me to buy you more chili fries, kid?" Clark asks wryly, and the kid somehow finds a way to perk up even more.

"I mean, no, but if you wanna . . ." he mentions, grinning hopefully.

"Two orders of chili fries please, ma'am?" Clark requests, sparing the food truck worker another smile. "If it's not too much trouble."

"Yesssss," the kid cackles delightedly, hanging heavier off his neck again as he somehow actually manages to hug him tighter. The food truck worker stares at them both for a moment, then reaches for an empty fry basket.

"Uh, sure," she says slowly. "No problem. Uh. Sorry, Superman, but do you . . . have a kid? Is that, like . . . what's happening here?"

"Yes," Clark replies reflexively, patting the kid's head.

. . . wait, that's not–

Then the kid beams at him again and nope, never mind, apparently that is right, he guesses he's just a dad now. Oh no, he and Jimmy are gonna need a bigger apartment, and Clark really hates apartment-hunting and doesn't even know how he's gonna afford his half of a bigger apartment, though at least he knows Jimmy can after selling Flamebird so he guesses that's something, and besides, what, is he gonna make his kid sleep on the couch? No way. The kid can have his bunk, heck, he'll sleep on the couch 'til they can sign a new lease or something. At least he's not an intern anymore, that's been a bit of a financial improvement, so that'll help.

". . . well okay then," the food truck worker says. "How do you even age, are you–um. I'm just . . . gonna make those both double orders, then. No charge. Congrats on, uh . . . congrats? Like, fifteen years late, apparently, but congrats."

"Thank you," Clark replies politely, smiling at her again as he walks over to her truck, the kid still happily hanging/floating off him. "We can pay, though, that's really not necessary."

"Dude. My dad would literally fire me if I ever made Superman pay for freaking chili fries," she says feelingly. "Like. Fire me so hard. Unto our family's next three generations, would he fire me."

"Thank you," Clark repeats, still smiling at her, then pulls a couple of twenties out of his belt and tucks them into her tip jar. Only seems decent, he thinks.

"Oh my god how are you even real," the food truck worker mumbles under her breath as she drops both double-orders of fries into the fryer.

[wannaeatramyeon]

Adventures of YOUR part time job in the Lookismverse: Part 2

Part 1 here. G/N. You still work the graveyard shift in a convenience store. Some bizarre characters return. Part 3

Your first day on the job, your boss had told you to greet everyone that comes through the door in a cheery voice and with a customer service smile. All you could think was fuck that.

He told you it was so people could approach you for help, as if your uniform wasn't a huge flashing sign, and so potential shoplifters would be deterred. Again you think, fuck that, because at the first whiff of any danger you're going to go hide somewhere secure and out of sight. There ain't no way you're risking your life for a minimum wage part time job.

Except now you're on your own and sure it comes with a little bit of danger and wariness but you don't have to and don't plan on greeting any people again.

So you thought.

.

.

You spot him a fucking mile away. DG strides through the doors and you're not sure to ignore him completely or to say anything.

It's like he wants you to acknowledge him from the furtive glances he keeps giving you but something about his shifty behaviour makes you keep your mouth shut.

Heavens, hasn't this guy ever heard of subtle. He's in an all white get up once again, hat on, mask on and the most eye-catching blinging Chanel necklace known to man. You think you might go blind if you stare too much at it.

So does he want attention or not?

"Hi," he says, standing in front of the counter. He's empty handed.

You want to say 'Hi DG, going for discreet tonight huh?' or 'Sorry your last album sale sucked' or 'I heard they're cancelling you for bad mouthing BTS'. None of them feel right. You settle on "Welcome. How can I help?"

He asks if you recognise him this time and from the way your eyes bug out to say obviously, he then proceeds to ask how.

You pause because you don't know whether this guy is serious or whether there's a hidden camera somewhere.

After what feels like ten minutes, but in reality is probably ten seconds, you gesture at him. At everything. His hair, his white outfit, his necklace. It’s not exactly like he’s going to blend in with the crowd, is it?

He gives you a nod and leaves.

You watch him exit and proceed to climb into the flashiest car you have ever seen, parked right in front and across three (one, two, THREE!) handicap bays.

You think he's most definitely an attention seeking narcissist.

.

.

The guy that bleeds all over your floor comes in again.

You know it's him because he apologises for bleeding all over your floor and that he scared you so much you called the police. In all honesty, you completely forgot about it but even the mere mention of that pisses you off.

"It's fine," you tell him even though it's not, not really, but at least this time he's not bleeding and he has apologised twice already so as long as he's not gonna be weird, you'll accept his apology.

Except he does turn out to be a weirdo because he gives you a grin and you think he looks pretty cute even with his lip and nose scar, then he makes it weird with a wink and you think what even is this, who winks at people anymore.

He must have mistaken your cringe for encouragement though, as he continues to ask if you need any help with your shift and he can call the boys to help you out tonight as an apology for the other week.

You're not sure if this is a pick up line or if it's a threat. Either way, you decide it's the latter as you make up your mind that he must be a psychopath because only a psychopath would wink at strangers.

You tell him no. He doesn't seem deterred and tells you his name is Jake. Your first thought is to cover the name badge pinned to your chest but he's too quick. He says your name, and that he hopes to see you again.

You give him a nod and hope he leaves.

.

.

This oddball in sunglasses is unbearably smug as he slides his ID over to you.

You check out the date of birth and it's fine.

"It checks out," you give his ID back and ask him to pay for his cigarettes.

"Don't you have anything else to say?"

You frown at him because what does he want you to say? Like oh I knew you were a Capricorn (or is it Aries or Cancer. You don't know, you don't really know your signs). Or does he want you to comment that it's a flattering picture of him on the card because in all honesty, it's not. 

Still, he obviously expects something because he's standing there not doing anything.

"We take cash, card or you can pay through your phone."

That isn't what he's looking for. He tenses up, and you think he rolls his eyes at you but he's got sunglasses on-

Oh. This black eyed bastard. Does he expect an apology for the last time? Well you're not apologising for shit, you're just doing your job. It doesn't matter if he's of age. Rules are rules. No ID, no sale.

You stare at him instead with your polite customer service smile that actually means leave me alone. He stares back.

You stare. He stares back.

You stare - and you think that you must look like an idiot just standing there with a vacant smile but it's worth it in the end because the guy sighs, pays for his cigarettes and leaves.

Good. You hope he chokes on the smoke.

When your temper has cooled, you also feel a pang of sympathy as you wonder what sort of hard life he has had to look like that at 20. Poor guy, he really should quit smoking.

.

.

You're sitting outside on the curb on your break. It's technically loitering, your manager told you the first time he saw you and you consider hitting him because not only do you have to stand under terribly unflattering lights and deal with the goddamn general public for hours - now you can't even sit outside and breathe some fresh air?

Somehow you manage not to, which means you never got arrested for assault and that's pretty good, you suppose. It's nice to not be arrested.

Anyway, he's not here now, and he's not here most shifts so you loiter to your heart's content. You make sure to loiter extra hard tonight.

"What about this? So much better than fucking Duke Pyeon, right?" Someone comes up to you with music blaring out of tinny speakers. You consider sprinting back and locking yourself in the store. It's 4am and nothing good comes from speaking to strangers at 4am who like to blare shitty music.

Except he's not a stranger because you recognise the music style. It's so bad that you know that there is no way two different people on Earth would come up with the same sound. In fact, it actually gives you such a visceral reaction that you look for anything close by to jam in your ears.

There's nothing and you want to cry. For a brief moment you consider bashing your head into the ground.

You hold back, contemplate saying it's fine except you can't bring yourself to lie when it’s so clearly not. It’s not fine at all. You think it might be what the military or covert agencies play to torture people.

You don't look at him, keeping your eyes glued to anywhere but his face and mumble your break is over and rush back in.

He doesn't follow you and you give a brief thanks to whatever great overlord is looking over you and protecting your sense of hearing. 

You wonder if that guy is actually part of an elaborate plan from your boss as punishment for loitering, or if he somehow knew you took an extra seven minutes on your break yesterday and he’s now taking extra precautions so you’re not stealing any more company time.

.

.

The hair dye guy is back, this time buying another colour.

You recognise him from the H on his forehead and you know that he has unsuccessfully dyed his hair because if his hair looked like that last time then there's no way you would have even noticed the H.

It's awful. Blotchy and patchy and you're certain that you don't stock that colour. How on earth...

He tells you he's studying to be a hairdresser.

You never used to think hair could feel pain, but you distinctly hear millions of tiny screams from your own head when it realised this butcher might one day get his hands on innocent people's locks.

.

.

Just when you're on your way home, one foot out the door, you hear someone call you.

"It's me, Y/N!"

Maybe the voice should be familiar but you don't place it at all. You look at the guy towering in front of you with a blank face.

"Daniel." he says, as if that should jog your memory.

Who?? You say nothing.

"Daniel Park." You look him up and down and think what the fuck, this isn't right.

"Daniel. Park." he stresses as if you're the insane one and it's perfectly acceptable for apparently some guy you haven't seen for a year to say hi but look completely different and sound completely different.

You're not an idiot. You know puberty is a thing but jesus christ. It can't be him. Even the bone structure is completely different.

"Ok." you say because you're still not sure if this guy is Daniel or whether he's just crazy. You're 99% sure it's the latter and keep one hand in your pocket, ready to attack with pepper spray.

Although if this is Daniel Park, you wonder how good the plastic surgery technology is these days because you wouldn't mind adding an extra inch or two to your height.

"I'm just in the middle of working out," he says, "in a junkyard." he adds and you wonder what is happening in the world. This guy is definitely insane.

You're a second away from pulling out the spray but then he tells you he's gotta go or else he's going to get beat up (Again. What the fuck.). He says it's good to see you and you tell him likewise because that's the correct thing to say.

You hope you never see this crazy person again but most importantly you think about resigning because this store just seems like a magnet for freaks.

Maybe you can get a job at your boyfriend's Taekwondo studio. Surely the fact you know nothing about Taekwondo wouldn't be an issue.

[the-fiction-witch]

Orland and Ophelia

Media - House Of The Dragon Character - Aegon Targaryen Couple - Aegon X Reader Reader - Shela (Fleabottom Smallfolk Girl) Rating - Sweet AF Word Count - 3093

Aegon sits in a tavern down the deep pits of fleabottom, the place dirty, bloody and grim, the place almost empty as the sun begins to rise most heading back to whatever holes they hide in from the light. Aegon sits at a table on his ninth ale, he's hiding down here away from his family and he was a common sight in this place. He had snuck away from the red keep, away from his family and their chaos as he often did. Shela the bar girl walks with her rag cleaning up the mess from the evening in her long brown skirt, white blouse, a small apron and a blade on her hip, her Y/H/C hair pinned up but slowly falling from the night of work,

"Another round." Aegon signals another drink by lifting his tankard. He looks extremely tired. This is a regular, almost nightly occurrence for him to get completely drunk in this place.

"That's the last one," she warns him,

"Another one Shela." Aegon's voice sounded very slurred. He didn't even bother to look at her as he spoke.

"And I said no." She told him, "You've had enough Aegon." She said sternly,

Aegon let out a long sigh as he looked at her with a frown, now turning to face her. She really thought she had that much power to deny him a drink. He was the prince after all. For a moment he stared at her with a scowl on his face. Was she really gonna play that game with him? He then turned back to his empty cup for a moment knowing she was what stood between him and another drink, "Fine."

"You can stay as long as you like, but no more drinking. Else you'll find yourself head first down in the rain pits," she explained picking up his tankard to wipe his table and kissing his head as she took the tankard away and back to the bar so he definitely couldn't have another drink.

Aegon seemed to be contemplating his next move after she took his tankard away. For a moment he even looked like he might go after her with the intent of taking the tankard from her. He needed that drink, but then something stopped him. Perhaps it was the kiss she gave him. Or perhaps it was his own stubbornness and pride. He and Shela had of course kissed before, he had taken her to bed when drunk more than once and even though he knew that the kisses still made his body feel warm, but he snapped at her, "I hate you."

"I'm well aware Aegon,"

"Then why do you insist on staying with me?" Aegon had never really noticed it before but when he spoke, he realized she was the only one who never abandoned him. His parents were too busy, His siblings either resented him or feared him. But here she was, always. He couldn't think of a reason why she would want to stay when he was so drunk and miserable. Why was she?

"Well.. no matter how drunk you get you always pay your tab in gold dragons,” She chuckled, “You get into fights but you never break anything most of the time you fight outside, you’re a very loyal customer. And you can at rare times before a very sweet man."

Aegon couldn't believe what he was hearing. Did this woman, a bar-maid for seven hells, actually like him? Did she believe he was sweet? This was absurd. There were so many men in the Seven Kingdoms more worthy of her affections. Men more handsome, more charming, more...perfect. It became obvious to him that it was the alcohol speaking. And perhaps his own loneliness. Aegon tried to shrug these thoughts off and instead waved his hand to wave her off. "Whatever."

"You always get some grumpy when you drink," she chuckled,

Her comment hit a nerve with him. "I am not grumpy." He was silent for a moment before asking her a question as his own curiosity. "Why? Why do you stay? You could have any man you want. Any guy in Westeros. And you choose to hang out with a drunkard, with a prince no one respects and who's not worthy of love?"

"who says you are not worthy of love?"

"Don't you know the things they say about me in King's Landing?" He looked her directly in the eye as he spoke, making sure she was looking at him directly. "I am called a drunk. A fool. An idiot. A disgrace to the Targaryen name. I will never be loved by anyone. Not ever. Because I do not deserve it."

"all kings and lords are drunks. Most are also fools and idiots. The Targaryens have ruled a dynasty longer then anyone can remember, there have been many disgraces Aegon. You will not the the first nor will you be the last I'm sure of it. And I would make a bet one day there will be targaryens even worse then you that will make your crimes and your unworthiness seem like footnotes of history. You have not had time to find your talents with all this madness going on. And everyone deserves love in some way or another," she explained as she came over gave his head another kiss and set down a plate of hash browns and bacon a nice breakfast for him something she never usually served to people,

Aegon was speechless for a moment. He didn't like the fact that she was being so kind. It almost made him feel like...like he was wrong. And he knew better than this. This was the first time that maybe he was actually...wrong. No one had ever talked to him like this. Perhaps there was something to her story....but he still wanted to be stubborn and refuse being wrong. He took a bite from the hashbrown and spoke softly. "I still hate you..."

"I'm sure you do," she chuckled

He ate another bite and then another before he spoke. "Have we ever kissed while I was sober?"

"Not that I recall" she shrugged cleaning sine tankards behind the bar "Then again you’re so rarely sober here... I think I've only seen you sober... Twice... And both of those you were just hungover"

He kept eating his food in silence before asking her another question. "Are you married? I don’t recall ever asking,"

"You’ve never asked, and Not married no, honestly having a husband as a bar maid is sort of an occupational hazard they often get jealous and get beaten up usually. But I do have someone special,"

He stopped eating for a moment, almost choking on the bite he took of food as he processed what she just said. He couldn’t believe he was hearing this. “You DO? But you’ve kissed me so many times… and we’ve-” There was a hint of bitterness in his voice now. She was the first woman who he thought cared about him, and she already had someone.

"yes? Relax I'm not dating my special person it's a very different relationship but I love them very much,"

Aegon raised his eyebrows as he was taken aback by the unexpected answer. So she did love someone else, though apparently it wasn’t in a boyfriend or girlfriend sense. “Then what do you mean by special? Family?” He asked curiously for the first time, about the woman he was kissing and sleeping with so often, but never knew anything about.

"mhm, my twins" she nodded,

Now that was most certainly unexpected. He had no idea she had children. He took a bite of food and then asked her another question. “How old are they?”

"three."

“Boys or girls?”

"both one boy and one girl"

"What are their names?"

"Orland and Ophelia"

He was surprised by their names. They were quite beautiful. He had thought more common names. Aegon had a look on his face of pleasant surprise as he spoke again. "Are you going to give them another sibling?"

"I'm not planning on it but I wasn't planning in having them so if it happens I guess" she shrugged,

"And who is the father of your children?" He wanted to know more about her now and even if he didn't like it the breakfast and this chat was certainly sobering him up,

she didn't answer she simply continued to clean the tankards behind the bar, her eyes on the bar for a moment before she simply looked at him and that look told him all he needed to know, Aegon knew what that look meant, and when he did he almost choked on the last bite of food he had in his mouth. He tried to swallow it down but it didn't seem to go down. Almost like the food was stuck in his throat. All he could do was stare at her in silence after that, not even knowing what to say because he couldn't believe what he had just heard.

The silence between them went on for a bit when Aegon finally cleared his throat and spoke, though his voice was quiet and sounded hoarse.

“Shela Are you saying…?”

"yes. They're yours Aegon."

A long silence followed, as he looked at her in disbelief. His mouth was open and his eyes widened. Finally he spoke in barely a whisper. "You're joking?"

"Why would I joke about that? You think having a couple of Targaryen bastard's running around is something I'd like to be advertising?"

His eyes widened even more at the realization. The twins were his children. His blood. His flesh and bone. The thought alone overwhelmed him. For a moment he just stared at the ground. He was a father. And he had no clue. He was ashamed of himself. Ashamed that he had not been there for her, for them. He turned his head to look up at her again. "How long....how long have I been a father?" his voice trembling,

"well the twins are three. So add nine months from that. And I was pregnant about a year before the twins too but… I lost it"

"Oh gods...how come you never came to tell me about this?" He seemed hurt by that thought. She had his children. His blood. he'd been missing their lives for all this time.

"I did. I told you both times as soon as I knew. However, you were drunk and didn't care"

This had shocked him again. He didn’t even remember her telling him. He was so drunk all the time he couldn’t remember such things. Aegon tried to remember those memories but realized they were lost in the haze of alcohol that had clouded his past. He sighed as he realized not only did he have two children. He also missed his chance to be with the woman who truly cared for him and that in some strange way deep in his soul… he loved. He was a fool. He finally spoke again, his tone sorrowful. “Do they know about me?”

"of course they do"

He seemed surprised by that. He let out a long exhale and leaned back in his seat. His face had an expression of sadness and regret, but he tried to keep it hidden. It was his fault that she had been raising them alone for this long, and it was his fault that he was missing so much of their lives. He finally spoke with this mixture of emotions inside of him, the words laced with sadness. “Can I meet them?”

She set the tankard down, she checked the tavern was empty but the two of them. She went and locked the doors and drew the blinds clearly fearful of someone seeing her children and it became clear why, she unlocked the door that led to the basement apartment she and her children lived in and she called them up. And soon enough two happy little three year olds came into the bar, both had bright Targaryen blonde hair, Y/E/C eyes like Shela's, they wore decent clean clothes for smallfolk and seemed very happy little Ophelia even had a bunny stuffie under her arm,

Aegon's heart melted the moment he laid eyes upon his children. His son and daughter. A son and a daughter. The twins he had never known about. His children. He couldn't quite believe his eyes. And the way they came in so happily...he suddenly felt like a horrible father for being absent in their lives until now. But they didn't care. They were just happy at the sight of their father. That thought alone almost brought him to tears. He smiled at the sight of his children and waved them over. He had to meet them. He had so much to make up for. They were both so adorable. He hadn't felt this warm in a long time. The warmth he got after drinking was nothing compared to the warmth he got from seeing his children. His beautiful children.

Ophelia happily skipped over and hugged his leg, Orland was more tentative slowly walking over and sitting across from him, He gently bent down and picked Ophelia up, hugging her and holding her in his arms. He looked at her for moment before he spoke, his tone full of warmth. "Hello, little one."

Orland didn’t say a word, and Ophelia giggled happily at being picked up and sat on Aegon’s knee she nodded and took her bunny plushie moving it to use the plush to kiss Aegon’s cheek

"He is a bit... Standoffish" Shela explained fixing Orland's hair, "she however is a giggle pig" Shela smiled giving Ophelia a tickle and making her giggle like crazy

Aegon laughed aloud as he watched Ophelia being so affectionate. She was a sweet child. He also smiled and looked at Orland. He seemed to be the opposite of his sister. He was shy, stoic and quiet. He didn’t say anything as he sat across. Aegon smiled and waved for Orland to join him on his lap. He wanted to hold both this sweet children, his children.

Orland didn't move but he spoke "where have you been daddy?"

"Orland. Don't be rude" Shela said

A tear escaped Aegon’s eye at Orland’s words. He had not expected that question, but he shouldn’t have been surprised. He understood why he would ask that. Aegon was still their father after all. He wiped away his tear and spoke softly, he didn’t feel like he deserved the title of father but he was willing to fight for it. “I’m here now,”

"but mummy says your important, that's why you don't visit us. Mummy says it's not safe for you to visit us cause your family is all big and important" Ophelia said,

"We're bastards." Orland snapped. "That's why you don't come to see us,"

"Orland! What have I told you about that word!" Shela told him off

Aegon listened to them as they spoke. They knew they were bastards. He listened quietly to them as they spoke. He wanted them to know that he did not agree, "I am your father. You may be bastards as well, but that does not change the fact that you are MY children."

"we missed you daddy," Ophelia giggled

He was touched by the words. They'd missed him. How could he have missed such wonderful children? How could he have not known about the most precious beings in the world? He was ashamed of himself all over again now. But he was grateful to her that she had raised them so well. He chuckled softly as Ophelia giggled, holding her tightly with one arm and then patting her head with the other. His eyes went back to see Orland and he smiled again. "Can I hug you as well, Orland?"

Orland shook his head "you're just going to leave again, run off back to the red keep and never see us again, you'll get drunk and forget we exist -"

"Orland!" Shela said

"No! He's just going to leave us again. We're bastards, he can't stay with us, he will never want to stay with us he just wants to live in the castle with his royal family. We're just some bastards he doesn't care about us. And when you become king it'll get us killed when someone finds out"

This hurt Aegon. It hurt him more than any pain he had felt before. Orland was right, wasn't he? This is exactly what he did before. He left them. But he had been too stupid to see it. Aegon put Ophelia down and went to wrap his arms gently around his son. "You are not just some bastard's. You are my children. Yes I was an idiot. I was drunk and I forgot about you. But I will not leave you again. I promise."

Orland trembled clearly wanting to hug him back "But your just going to leave go back to the red keep and we won't ever see you again"

Aegon squeezed him gently to reassure him the moment he saw his son trembling. He would not let his son feel afraid of him anymore. "No. I don't care what they think there. I don't care what my sister thinks or any other person there thinks. My home...my real home now is with you. I won't leave you again. You are my children. And I love you no matter what."

"what about when the king's guard come looking off you, or your family, what happens when the king dies and your needed to be king. You'll leave us. You'll abandon us again. Kings guard will kill us for being bastard's" Orland hugged him but cried in fear

Aegon squeezed him gently and held him for a few seconds before speaking. He didn’t want his son to have fear and worry about such things. He would protect them no matter what happened. “No one will ever hurt you. If someone comes looking after me, I’ll make sure I’m strong enough to protect you. And if I have to become king then I swear to the gods that I will not abandon you ever again. The only thing that matters is you and your sister and I love you both.”

Orland trembled but decided to nod and trust him for now, Ophelia smiled and joined the hug so Aegon had both his children in his arms which made Shela chuckle, Aegon smiled at the sight of them both in his arms, their bodies tightly pressed against his. They were warm and soft and for a moment those four felt like a perfect family. The thought made him want to tear up, how could he have been so foolish before? He would do better. He would be the father they needed. He would never leave them again. They were going to be his entire world now.

[melodygatesauthor]

Always Yours, Never Mine

Yandere Miguel O'Hara X f!Reader

Universe Two - The Barista

Series Masterlist - Beta Read by @campingwiththecharmings

Summary

I didn’t even test the DNA analysis module on the watch before I left my universe. Idiotic? Definitely, but I was so excited by the thought of seeing you again that I didn’t care. So I tested it when I got to the new universe, using the watch to scan one of your hairs and then using that data to track you down…I can't believe I found you again.

Tags/Warnings

NSFW, dub-con due to identity issues, non-con, rape, More tags on the masterlist.

Word Count: 5.4k

It was a morning like every other.

You opened your eyes to the sound of your alarm blaring next to you. You hit the snooze button, probably too harshly, before promptly burying your face in your palms. Sometimes you thought that if you just laid there long enough, all your responsibilities would disappear. A moment later, the alarm went off again, reminding you that it was time to get up, for real this time. After fantasizing about ripping it from the wall and breaking it into a thousand pieces, you turned it off and rolled out of bed.

You stepped out into the living room, smelling the coffee brewing in the pot already. Your step-sister, and roommate, Emily, was flipping through the channels on the tv in the living room.

“Mornin’,” you mumbled, grabbing the hot cup she’d left for you on the breakfast bar.

“Morning!” She turned around to face you while you sipped from your mug. “The ‘rents wanted to go out for dinner tonight, you in?”

You groaned, trudging over to the armchair in the living room and sitting down, taking another sip of your coffee. You stared at the television idly, not really taking any of it in. You thought about your impending workday. You sighed heavily, the idea of ending your long day by having dinner with your parents exhausting.

“I don’t really want to, I’m gonna be tired after work but…I guess I can pull myself together for a couple hours.”

“Thanks, I don’t really wanna go alone.” She sniffed out a laugh, “you should bring that guy you’ve been seeing, might be a good time for them to meet him.”

You gave her the look. The look that said, ‘no way in hell am I introducing him to our parents’.

“I’m not ready to subject him to that just yet.”

“Fair,” she said with a shrug, turning the volume up on the tv and thus ending the conversation.

You finished your coffee before getting yourself ready for the day. You looked in the mirror on your bedroom door, adjusting your nametag pinned through your apron next to the Moonbean Coffee logo. The company aprons felt so frumpy on your frame and you hated the shade of brown the owner had picked out, but you supposed it was better than not having a job to begin with.

“See ya later!” You said on your way out.

You arrived just before seven for your shift. Your co-workers, Stacy and Mira, were there already, baking sweets and brewing coffee for the morning rush. You flipped the “open” sign around and went behind the counter in preparation for the under-caffeinated stampede. Stacy always made some comment to you about ‘opening the floodgates’ whenever you came in, since that was always the moment customers started pouring in.

You were sweaty by the end of the rush. It felt to you like that was often the time that he seemed to make his appearance. You’d talked to him about it before, telling him to come in first thing with the other customers if he wanted you to look your best. ‘You always look your best, hermosa’, he’d say, suave as ever.

Miguel walked in. The smell of coffee hit him like a ton of bricks, but then so did your face. 

It had been a year and a half since he’d seen you. A fucking year and a half. His breath caught in his chest and his lips parted slightly. He felt like he was seeing you for the first time. In some weird way, he was seeing you for the first time. This version of you anyway.

“Are you just going to stand there or are you gonna come get your coffee?” You giggled and started making his usual cup.

There was that sound again.

He thought he’d never hear your laugh for the rest of his days. In his universe, he’d replayed videos of when you were alive over and over to take the edge off, but nothing compared to the real thing when it hit his ears. He watched you make his coffee. You’d made it wrong, but he’d expected that when traveling to another dimension things wouldn’t always be quite right. He didn’t care, as long as he found the universe where you lived; that’s all that mattered to him.

“Are you gonna say something or just stare at me?” You laughed at him nervously.

“I’m sorry I’m just…having a rough morning,” he held up his cup, “haven’t had my coffee yet,” he said jokingly.

You’d thought about Emily’s suggestion to have him join you and your parents for dinner, and figured she was right. You liked this guy. This impossibly tall, broad, and handsome physicist who seemed to be smitten with you no matter how gross you looked after a long shift at the coffee shop.

“I’ve been thinking, and no obligation if you don’t want to, I understand, but…my parents invited my step-sister and me out for dinner tonight and…” You trailed off, feeling nervous, “do you…would you wanna–”

“Yes, I’d love to,” he blurted out.

He felt like such an idiot. It wasn’t like him to get flustered like this, but something about you made him feel like the space between his ears was filled with nothing but hot air. He saw you press your lips together bashfully, and noticed the way your eyes seemed to sparkle when you looked at him. You’d always told him that he was special to you; that he was different from other guys you’d dated, he’d just never paid attention to the small details like this back then.

“Great, it’s at the new steak place up the road from here. Six pm, please don’t be late,” you said in a pleading tone.

“I wouldn’t dream of it, honey.”

There were customers coming in and he decided it was time for him to go. He had a dinner date to get ready for afterall. The fluttering in his stomach from seeing you wasn’t something he’d felt in a long time, and he’d missed it. It was hard to break away, but he kissed the back of your hand and started to leave anyway.

“Hey!” You shouted.

He turned back around, “Hm?”

“No kiss?” You put your hands on your hips.

You…you wanted a…

He gulped. “S-sorry, thinking about work,” he lied.

He walked up to you and leaned over the counter and you took his face in your hands. 

You touched him. It had been so long since you’d touched him. 

You pressed your lips to his softly, and for a moment, he tensed. Once he relaxed, he leaned in, parting his lips and melting them against yours. He never thought he’d kiss you again. Miguel sighed with joyous relief when the kiss broke, choking back the tears that threatened to fall.

“See you later,” you said, patting his wide chest before watching him walk away.

As Miguel stepped outside and started down the sidewalk, he passed someone on his left. It didn’t hit him right away until he realized that the man was as unnaturally tall as himself. Miguel stopped dead in his tracks, looking back at the man as he headed toward the coffee shop he’d just walked out of. It was…oh no…

You looked up from the coffee cup you were putting someone’s name on to see Miguel come back inside. You smirked and let out a chuckle.

“Forget something?” You raised an eyebrow at him, unsure why he’d returned. He had a huge smile as he walked up to you and leaned against the counter.

“Hola, hermosa,” he said, “I’ll take my usual, if you don’t mind.”

“What…?” you felt uneasy.

Lots of people had memory problems right? You and Miguel had only been dating for a couple months, so you didn’t know all there was to know about him. Maybe he suffered from short term memory loss or something. Not to mention, you knew he was a scientist. It was possible he’d suffered some brain injury in the lab or something…right? You couldn’t be sure, but your intuition was telling you that something was off; stupidly, you ignored it.

“Are you feeling okay?” He asked, looking at you with concern.

You cleared your throat, “Yeah, yes I’m fine.”

You faked a smile and made his coffee…again. When you handed it to him he smiled and sipped it. That’s when you realized he wasn’t wearing the same outfit he was wearing when he’d walked out of there just a moment earlier. Something wasn’t right. Were you losing your mind? Maybe he wasn’t the one with memory issues.

Miguel was a genius on paper. He could make a device that allowed him to travel the multiverse with only one minor flaw, but that didn’t mean he was immune to idiocy. He’d just watched that universe’s version of himself walk by and go right into the coffee shop where you worked. How could he be so stupid? If there was a version of you in every universe, then it was reasonable to assume that there would be a version of himself in every universe as well.

He had to do something about the doppelganger. Miguel couldn’t let him get in the way. He couldn’t let someone else, even if it was just an alternate version of himself, take you from him.

Later that evening, you were dressed and ready for dinner. You’d managed to shrug off the weird encounter you’d had with Miguel earlier, and decided that you would wait to bring it up after dinner with your parents, if at all. You really liked him, and didn’t want to mess it up over something as silly as his, or your own, forgetfulness.

You shook your head free of the thoughts that plagued you. It was just Miguel. Normal, loving, caring Miguel that you’d known and enjoyed spending time with over the last couple of months. With a sigh, you left, heading to the restaurant where your parents were already sitting with your step-sister. You decided to wait outside for him to arrive, having texted Emily earlier to let her know that you’d changed your mind about inviting Miguel after all.

God you looked beautiful.

Miguel felt a swell in his chest as he walked toward you on the sidewalk. You hadn’t noticed him yet. You were wearing a simple black dress that hugged your body nicely. You looked like you again. This was how you’d dressed in his universe when he would take you out somewhere nice. So fucking pretty.

When you finally noticed Miguel’s lingering gaze, you felt flustered. You tried to compose yourself as he approached, calming your fluttering stomach. You didn’t want to look like a bumbling idiot, not only in front of him, but in front of your parents too.

You cleared your throat when he got closer, “Ready?”

He nodded, looking down at you, “Oh you bet.”

“Oh! You’ve got something on your…” you furrowed your brow, eyes catching on a small red smear just below his ridiculously sharp cheek bone. “I’ll get it.”

You licked your thumb and wiped the mark off his face. He smirked until he saw your thumb covered in crimson. His mind flashed back to the events that had taken place over the last couple of hours…

Miguel was waiting silently behind a wall in the kitchen, having snuck into his alternate’s apartment, watching Miguel trying to decide what tie he was going to wear to dinner with your parents in a few hours. He felt bad for a second, knowing that if this man loved you even a fraction of the amount that he did, this would be disheartening when he realized he was going to die before he got to truly love you.

For someone normally so meticulous, Miguel hadn’t really thought this through. He’d rushed to follow the man home after his meeting with you at the coffee shop, and kept an eye on him throughout the day to get a feeling for his lifestyle so he could attempt to mimic it once he eliminated this universe’s version of himself.

The time had come for Miguel to kill his other self, and nothing could stop him now that he’d come this far. There was one perk to killing his alternate: even if someone discovered the body, or some poorly disposed of evidence, all the DNA would lead back to one person…himself. So it didn’t matter if he slit his own throat, snapped his own neck, or shot himself in the head. No one would ever know.

Miguel had never killed anyone before, but the more he thought about this other man - despite that ‘other man’ being himself - touching you, the angrier he got. He couldn’t bear the idea that you, his precious girl, might be giving someone else attention, and those thoughts alone were enough to fuel the fire that brought him to the brink of murder.

Miguel must’ve been so confused. For him it probably seemed like a normal evening at first. He probably had no idea he was about to die. He was going to shower, probably stress a little bit about how to impress your parents, and then start getting ready for the dinner date. It was all normal, until the shower curtain opened and he was greeted by his doppelganger who delivered several stab wounds to the man’s chest.

Miguel wondered what his other self was thinking in those last moments as the life faded from his eyes. 

Cleanup took a while, but not so long that he couldn’t make it in time for dinner. Now he was in a predicament. You were standing there with blood on your thumb and a curious look on your face.

“Must’ve nicked myself shaving,” he chucked, rubbing his hand over his jaw, “Thank you, mi vida.”

He leaned in and kissed you, and despite him calling you ‘mi vida’, something he’d never called you before, you kissed him back. Regardless of the red flags flying in your face, you took his hand, smiled and walked into the restaurant with him to meet your parents.

Charming as always, Miguel impressed them with ease. It was like he knew them. He acted as though he were meeting up with old friends rather than meeting his girlfriend’s parents for the first time. It was so hard to find someone they actually liked so you threw every red flag of the day out the window and decided to move on. It was that simple. 

When you asked Miguel to go back to his place that evening, instead of going to your own apartment, he was thrilled. He didn’t even wait for you to get your shoes off before he had you lifted off the ground, legs around his thick torso and pinned against the wall. He hadn’t felt the wet heat of your cunt in well over a year and he was desperate.

You’d never heard him like this, so primal and hungry. His heaving breathing was almost like a low growl. He lifted up the skirt of your dress, large hands grabbing onto your hips while his mouth left heavy kisses on your neck. You didn’t care if he was acting strangely, it felt so good that it didn’t matter.

He brought you to the bedroom and fell onto the mattress with you, hovering over your body while his hands continued their exploration. He was reveling in the delicious feeling of your soft skin; the skin he hadn’t touched in too long. He was loving the taste of you, it was almost the same…close enough anyway. He wanted to taste more of you.

He pulled down the strap of your dress and bra in one motion, exposing your breast. Miguel bit his lip and looked up at you, eyes full of a dark lust. You gasped when he brought his lips over the peak, rolling his tongue around the hardened, sensitive skin there. You brought both of your hands to his shoulders, squeezing them tightly, though you knew it probably felt like nothing to the overly muscular man. He flicked his tongue over you one more time before looking up again.

Miguel wanted to taste something else he hadn’t tasted in far too long, so he kept working his way down, lifting your skirt and hooking a finger under your delicate lace panties.

“You wore these just for me, didn’t you, hermosa?”

He used both hands to rip the thin fabric covering your already glistening, slick folds. He used one thick finger, sliding it through your slit and up, brushing over your clit gently. You gasped, throwing your head back. Miguel smirked, letting a dark chuckle escape. The other Miguel hadn’t been so giving with you, had he?

He hadn’t, and you noticed right away that Miguel was acting more focused on your body than before. But when you felt his mouth come down over your mound, warm and soft, you didn’t care. Whatever it was that made him act differently, you were living for it now. Red flags be damned.

“So sweet, mi vida,” he cooed, going back in for more like he hadn’t eaten in weeks.

You were delicious, but wasn’t quite the same. There was something a little more sweet about this version of you, but it was alright. He could live with it. You still sounded the same, and you still looked the same, more or less. You grabbed onto the back of his head which made him smile against your folds. The feeling of you touching him made Miguel all the more eager to please you.

Miguel brought one of his thick fingers to your entrance, sliding it in with ease and feeling your cunt flutter around him in response. You whined, arching your hips to take him deeper. One perk to finding this new version of you, was showing himself up in the bedroom. He loved that you were coming undone under him like never before. The original you had been so used to his catering in the bedroom, but this one seemed impressed, and he liked that.

“Mm, hermosa, think you can take another one?” He asked, sliding in another finger to meet the first.

As he started pumping his fingers in and out of you, he noticed how much your body twitched and writhed. So sensitive, this one. He flicked his tongue rapidly over your swollen, needy clit. You were crying out words of affirmation repetitively, grabbing a fistful of his hair as you did. Your legs were shaking against his cheeks.

“Tres?”

He added another finger, and you were a gasping mess at his mercy. Your hole ached with the sweet stretch as he pumped his digits in and out faster. You’ve never known Miguel to do anything like this, but you weren’t complaining. This was the best sex of your life and he was still just playing with you. He curled his fingers, and you cried out, throwing your head back.

“F-fuck! Miguel…!”

He kept going, feeling the way your legs tensed and hearing the way your breathing got even heavier. His eyes trailed over your mound, up your beautiful torso to meet with your heartstopping eyes. You grabbed his hair so tight that he winced, but he didn’t stop lapping over your folds, knowing that you were about to come for him for the first time in a long time.

You’d never had an orgasm so intense it made you go cross-eyed before before, but there you were, shaking so hard you rattled the headboard. Your cunt was gushing and clenching around his fingers while he curled and dragged them over your walls through your climax. You fell back, breathing heavily, but Miguel wasn’t done with you yet.

“Come here honey,” he said in a husky tone, grabbing your hips and pulling you toward him.

Your body was still shaking from your release, and now he was running his length along your folds, collecting your arousal to make it slick. You looked up and saw him biting his lip through your tear blurred vision. You felt his tip prodding at your entrance. He so fucking big.

“Oh baby f-fuck—“

Miguel’s voice was like gravel as he pushed into you slowly, feeling your walls shift to accommodate his size. It had been so long - too long - since he’d felt the vice grip your soft pussy had around his throbbing cock, milking it for every drop you could. You cried out again, the sound hitting his ears like a symphony. He grabbed around your throat, fingers almost touching around the back, pulling you up to sit on him.

“Mm, mi vida,” he mumbled into your sternum.

He spread your ass cheeks, with both large hands, fucking you over his cock with ease. He could hardly get the whole thing inside. Your poor legs were still shaking, struggling to stay up, but he was happy to do the work. Miguel was satisfied enough to just have you in his arms again, in any way he could.

“T-too much Miguel I–”

“Shh honey, sh, I’ve got you,” he cooed, lifting and lowering you with the movement of his hips.

You grabbed onto his shoulders tightly. Miguel had never been so commanding and attentive to you before. He was sliding in so fucking deep that you felt your brain short circuit with every pass. He felt bigger than before, but you knew that was impossible. Your nails dug into the muscle of shoulders, he groaned, voice rough with arousal. He looked up at you.

“Kiss me hermosa.”

You complied, grabbing the back of his head and tangling your fingers in his hair while melting your mouth into his. You started to feel the strength come back to the muscles in your legs so you took over, riding his cock while continuing to kiss him deeply. This wasn’t the first time you and Miguel had been intimate, but you wondered why he’d held back this passion for lovemaking for so long. This was not the same sex you’d had with him just a few nights ago.

Now that his hands were free, he could feel over your entire body, letting the pads of his fingers take in every detail of your skin. It felt so soft, like it always had, smooth and warm. You started moving your hips faster, taking his cock deeper. He could feel your walls fluttering around him again.

“Gonna give me another one already, baby? Hm?” He started nipping at your neck, making you whimper and whine louder.

“Yes, oh yes Miguel!”

He wrapped his arms around you, leaning forward so that you were underneath him. He held you down with his weight, fucking you harder than you could possibly have done if you were still on top. His teeth still continued marking your neck, forcing sharp cries from your perfect lips.

“Yes, that’s my girl, oh god…honey-I-f-fuck…ah!”

Miguel’s hips came to a stuttering halt, cock pumping his hot spend into your tightly clenched cunt. Your walls were crashing over him, squeezing his cum out around the sides of his length and letting it spill onto the bedding. He didn’t want to let go of you just yet, so he held you there while you both lay in your blissed out high for a while.

It wasn’t the same…it would never be the same…but it was close enough.

That was how Miguel had managed to slide - almost seamlessly - into your life. He noticed that this version of you was more different than he’d originally thought, right down to the way you liked to do your makeup. Still, he felt that as long as he could keep you alive, and keep you safe, he could overlook some of those things. You were similar enough that he felt happy again.

He still missed you sometimes though; the real you that he’d lost, and he still mourned for that version of you. But when he looked at you now, a few months into dating this you, in your little brown barista apron with a big grin on your face, kissing him on the cheeks like he was the most precious thing in the world to you, he felt warm. It was like putting a bandaid on the wound. It would never fully heal, but this made it better.

Everything was as perfect as it could be, until one morning felt unfortunately familiar. He woke up fast, realizing he’d been sleeping with his mouth wide open on your chest.

“Good morning, handsome,” you said, laughing and wiping a bit of spit from his stubbled cheek, “You were out. Having a good dream?”

He hadn’t forgotten a single detail about that day.

He looked up at you, brow furrowed in confusion and concern. In the last couple of months he’d learned a few things about this universe. Time still worked the same as it did in his universe, but the year was 2016. It was possible that time wasn’t even a relevant factor concerning your death, but he thought that perhaps if it was relevant, he might have a chance to save you before this day would be upon him.

He had also considered that perhaps his universe had an anomaly that the others didn’t, and that was why you’d died and perhaps you’d live in this one. Maybe it wasn’t canon for you to die every time, and he’d just been extremely unlucky to be born in the one dimension that he would lose you.

But if this universe did work exactly the same, he thought he would get to prepare for this. He thought he’d get more than a couple months with you before he lost you again. He gave you a soft smile and brought the back of your hand to his lips.

“What do you say you skip work today and we stay in bed, hm?” He asked, calm on the surface but screaming on the inside for you to agree.

“Well I have to go in, my rent isn’t going to pay itself.” You slid out of bed and headed for the bathroom, leaving Miguel lying there, staring at you with desperation as you walked away into the bathroom.

“I have a good job, mi vida, I can pay your rent, you don’t need to go to work,” he insisted, getting out of bed and standing in front of the bathroom doorway.

“Not a chance,” you said, undressing and closing the door in his face.

Maybe this morning would be different. If he recalled correctly, and he did recall correctly, this wasn’t how that morning had started originally. The fact that you weren’t married was already so different, it was just that…something felt so uncanny, so similar but so…not at the same time. He opened the door.

“Have to pee,” he grumbled, walking over to the toilet.

“Oh! I almost forgot to tell you,” you said, turning knobs on the shower, “I know we said we would do dinner tonight but a couple girls from work wanted to go out for drinks tonight so I think I’ll join them, that okay?” You stepped into the warm water and closed the curtain.

Miguel pulled his pants back up and froze.

“W-Who’s going?” He couldn’t stop his shaking hands from clenching into fists.

“Stacy and Mira.” You peeked your head out of the shower curtain, “I’m really sorry, I forgot all about–”

“No,” he said coldly.

Your heart caught in your chest at his words. All this time, Miguel had surprised you by proving to be the best guy you’d ever been with and suddenly, his firm tone sent a chill down your spine. He’d never spoken so bluntly to you before, and he’d certainly never looked at you with such a dark glare as he was in that moment.

“Baby, we can go out another night, it’s not often that Stacy can find a sitter and–”

“I said no,” he repeated harshly, “I won’t say it again.”

You turned off the shower and got out, grabbing your towel and covering yourself. He was so much taller than you, but you weren’t going to let someone talk to you like that, especially someone who was supposed to be your partner. You held up a scolding finger.

“Miguel, why the hell are you acting like this? You’re not my fucking dad, you’re my boyfriend. You don’t get to–”

He pulled you in, pressing his lips to yours. He didn’t know what else to do. You were angry, and you had every right to be. For all you knew, your normally loving and considerate boyfriend had taken a controlling and dark turn, and you were upset. He thought if he could just shut you up then you might forget about it and agree. Instead, you slapped him, forcing him to step back in shock, holding his cheek where the sting remained.

“Out,” you said firmly, “you’ve been acting like a weirdo ever since the day you met my parents. I looked past it because you still seemed like a nice guy, and those are hard to find, but you freak me out.”

Miguel’s heart fell into a million pieces all around him. He held his breath, trying to keep himself from losing his temper. His chest was heaving.

“Mi vida, I–”

“Stop calling me that! I’m not your life. I’m just some girl you’ve been dating for a few months and sometimes things don’t work out. This…” you gestured between the two of you, “isn’t working out.”

Miguel would never hurt you. He would never hurt you, but in that moment he fantasized about breaking your fucking neck. It was delicate enough, he could hold it tight and make it snap with only one hand. He might even enjoy watching you writhe when he grabbed you. How dare you think you could just leave him like that.

But he didn’t have to do a thing, because he knew that you would die that day, and he wasn’t going to stop you. Not this time. Fuck this version of you.

“Fine,” he said with a malicious smirk.

After he left, you cried, but only for a short while as you finished getting ready for work. He wasn’t the first weirdo you’d dated, and you were certain he wouldn’t be the last. You were glad that Emily had stayed at her own boyfriend’s house the night before so she wouldn’t hear you and Miguel arguing that morning. The last thing you wanted to do was go to your older sibling with your tail between your legs in defeat over another loser.

Miguel watched you leave your apartment and start walking to work. He thought he might have to wait until 10:53pm to see you die, but it would seem his theory that time was completely irrelevant when it came to your canonical death was correct.

The car seemed to come out of nowhere, flying down the street without a care for who might be in its path. Some idiot was behind the wheel, texting and driving, not paying attention while you crossed. The interesting thing was, that the other two girls died too, like they had in the original universe. After hitting you, the car swerved into the storefront of the coffee shop, killing the two employees who were standing near the front door; looks like those stupid friends of yours were meant to die in every universe too.

Miguel shook his head in frustration. Of course a part of him felt sad seeing you choking on your own blood in the middle of the street while people surrounded you, as if there was anything they could do. He didn’t feel sad for you though, he felt sorrow only for himself, having wasted so much time trying to find out if you were the one he could replace you with. It would seem you were a faulty substitute, flawed in so many ways that he’d chosen to overlook, and it was time to find a new one, a better one.

And he wouldn’t stop looking until he found a sufficient replacement, the perfect one.

Thank you for reading! You can support your favorite writers by the simple act of reblogging and liking! Thank you again!

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Miguel O'Hara Masterlist

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[helpimstuckposting]

I couldn’t get my earlier post out of my head, and then this happened so… I hope you enjoy a little famous!Eddie and dingus!Steve ficlet (ft platonic soulmate Stobin)

Part one | part two | part three

—

Steve and Robin had lived in Indy all of their lives. They shared the same schools, same teachers, same jobs, it would never end. They were platonic soulmates in a way they understood but couldn’t explain to anyone else, and that was okay. It worked for them.

Since they graduated, they’d been ice cream scoopers, movie rental employees, pizza makers, delivery drivers, movie theater security, bartenders, and now - surprisingly - musicians.

They had originally started messing around with song covers during their bartending era. Every Thursday was karaoke night, and they were both too competitive to see it as anything other than a chance to win, both trying to upstage the other. After a while, Steve started writing songs in his free time and Robin wouldn’t let anyone but her sing them. She posted their songs on Tiktok and Instagram just to see what would happen, and eventually they made their way onto Spotify and other streaming services.

A few of their songs went viral enough that they had a steady stream of listeners, and spent their free time putting more and more songs together. Their boss even let them play live at the bar on Wednesdays (and of course they’re still just as passionate about karaoke night).

It was a few months into their Wednesday shows when he showed up. Eddie Munson. It was just another bar in Indy, just a stop on their tour, just a coincidence that he happened to choose Robin and Steve’s bar. Steve noticed him during their set, and he was so glad in that moment that Robin was the lead singer because he was absolutely sure his voice would have cracked. Corroded Coffin was one of Dustin’s favorite bands, the kid wouldn’t shut up about them any time a new album or single was released.

Steve knew they were in Indy on tour, he’d witnessed Dustin’s spiral about not being able to afford a ticket, but he couldn’t believe they stopped in this bar. Dustin was gonna freak.

Once Robin and Steve finished their set, they went back to the bar to resume their actual jobs and Steve was once again stunned when Eddie Munson walked right up to him for a drink. Obviously Steve should have expected that, what else was someone going to do at a bar? But seeing someone he knows from the multiple posters plastered over Dustin’s bedroom wall, right in front of him - in the flesh, was beyond anything he could have predicted. Internally, he was absolutely freaking out.

Externally, he tried to keep his professional mask on. Munson was a regular customer, just a guy buying a drink, Steve could handle it without a meltdown. But man was the guy attractive. His band tee was ripped at the hem, jean vest with all its pins and buttons catching the light, and Steve could see the tendon in his neck pull as he laughed at something his band mate next to him said. Steve wanted to bite it.

He finished a customer’s drink, collected their card, and braced himself as Munson stepped up to the bar, a dimpled smile on his face that made Steve’s heart flutter like a dying butterfly in his chest.

“Nice set, man, your friend’s voice is gorgeous,” he said. “Can I get three rum and cokes?”

Grabbing three glasses from the bar, Steve began on the drinks. “Absolutely,” he said, his smile probably nowhere near Eddie’s level. “Are you here often, or just visiting?” Steve asked, attempting to play it cool, like Eddie was just any other person. This is ridiculous, Steve’s gonna throw up. Keep calm.

Eddie looked him up and down and smirked, “Just visiting for the weekend,” he said. A growing lump in Steve’s throat made him want to scream ‘I know!!! I know why you’re here!!! I know who you are!!! Hi!!!’ but he shoved that down as far as it could go, ready to choke on it if need be.

Steve set the finished drinks on the bar in front of Eddie, the musician handing over his card in exchange. “Open or closed?” He asked.

“Open. So, are those songs originals?” Eddie leaned into the bar, putting his face just a bit closer to Steve’s. He was gonna have a heart attack before the night was over, for sure, if Eddie kept this up.

“Oh, yeah, I uh… I wrote them,” Steve stuttered out. This was insane, he could pinch himself, there was no way this situation was happening. Eddie was gorgeous, dimples firmly in place because he wouldn’t stop smiling or smirking, his curls just begging for Steve to bury his hands in them and bring their faces closer. If Steve hadn’t been on the receiving end of hundreds of Dustin’s rants about Corroded Coffin, he knows he’d still want to drag Eddie out back and see what those lips tasted like, if they felt as much like sunshine as they looked.

Eddie nodded appreciatively and looked Steve up and down once again. “I’d love to hear more some time,” he said as he turned to leave, three glasses balanced in his hands.

“Well there’s karaoke here tomorrow night,” Steve blurted out, all attempts at remaining calm flying out the window because was that Eddie flirting with him? How did we get here? “You could stop by if you’ve got any free time.”

Eddie laughed, amusement flickering in his eyes and suddenly Steve remembered chasing fireflies in Robin’s backyard when they were kids. He started walking backwards towards his friends, “I’ll see what I can do!” he said with a raised voice, flashing one more smile that made that butterfly in Steve’s chest absolutely flip out. He was frozen in place, the shock of the whole situation settling deep in his bones. Honestly, Steve wasn’t sure he was still alive. Did he choke somewhere between the stage and the bar? Did he even make it to work in the first place? What day was it?

“Earth to Dingus!” Robin shouted at the other end of the bar. “A little help here?” she frantically gestured around her to the rising number of patrons.

A pretty decently sized mob was forming around the bar, snapping Steve out of his rock-star-induced-coma. He could freak out later in the privacy of his own home, right now he had work to do. And if his brain short circuited every time Eddie ordered drinks, that was nobody’s business but his own (and Robin’s).

—

Thank you so much for the encouragement !

[goatcheesecak3]

Hcs for Rodrick w/ an artistic s/o? who makes their own custom loded diper shirts? Who does small paintings or doodles on his van when allowed? Who has a sketchbook full of little drawings of him???

This is such a cute idea omg😭 yes I can definitely do that

He begs you to design tattoos for him, so you make him a little flash sheet of doodles to give him ideas. His favourite one is a sketch of a snake, someday he wants to get it as a sleeve, winding all the way down his arm.

Before a show, you surprised the band with custom löded diper shirts you'd made by bleach painting them. They all had the band's logo and a cool picture that you'd designed (Rodrick's was the grim reaper playing the drums). Needless to say, the entire band freaked out over this, congratulating a very smug Rodrick on getting himself a real keeper.

He loves it when he catches you sketching him, you always get embarrassed, as if he's not literally your boyfriend. He teases you for being so shy, and reassures you that he finds it flattering.

For Christmas you painted one of the heffley family portraits and gifted it to Susan, who absolutely ADORED it, and you.

Rodrick is quite artistic too, so sometimes you work together on pictures for fun. One of you will draw the outline and the other has to add colour. The pictures usually come out looking.... contemporary is the nice way to put it.

Sometimes Rodrick likes to take you on dates to art galleries or museums to help inspire you, constantly telling you "someday all these walls will be covered in your work, baby"

He gets you to draw all over everything he owns, you painted little nuclear waste symbols on his docs which he LOVED (a/n, fun fact: my mum was a punk in the 80s and she painted that symbol on her boots, so shoutout to me mum for the inspo ig lol)

You're planning to move in together soon, so as a surprise Rodrick took you to a paint your own pottery place, where you each painted bowls for eachother to have your morning cereal out of.

Rodrick wants to hang up every single piece of art you make, like EVERYTHING. Whether it's a huge canvas or a doodle on a napkin, he thinks it all deserves to be shown off.

He constantly jokes "I can't throw this doodle away! It's a y/n original, this is gonna be worth a lot of money someday!"

A/n this was such a cute idea thsnk u so much for the request :^)

Replies and reblogs are very much appreciated because I thrive off of your validation

Requests are open and very much encouraged! Check my pinned post for Request rules and my masterlist <3

[lunerenzo]

Next Lifetime, 02

Art cred(s); @wacuoms

☆ Pairing(s). Barista!Suguru geto x Nursing student! reader 

☆ Content. Swearing, fluff, talks of food, reader is intended to be black but anyone can read, please let me know if i missed anything :)

☆ Notes. This chapter was a bit harder to write, but I'm still gonna try to update as often as possible. Words in bold is reader.

☆ Word count. 1.84k

REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED, Enjoy!

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“Somethings off about you.” Shoko mumbles, eating one of the cookies she stole from the display cabinet. Suguru had been awfully cheery despite her and Satoru leaving him to do the morning rush by himself.“What are you talking about? I’m fine.” He responds with a  small smile, preoccupied with washing some of the tupperware. “No, she’s right. You’re not yelling at us for eating the food, what happened?.” Gojo bellowed with his mouth half full. Feet swinging as he sits on the counter. Suguru shrugs, turning off the water and grabbing the dish rag off his shoulder. “Well, if you were here like you were supposed to earlier, you would know.” “Okay, but we’re not talking about us. We’re talking about you.”

Suguru scoffs, squatting down and putting the cups in the cabinet. “There uh, was a girl that came in early this morning.” Behind him, Shoko and Gojo look at each other. A look of confusion on each others face. “Okay, a customer came in? So what?” He stands back up to his full height after putting everything away. Turning around and leaning against the back counter. “Yeah but like…i don’t know dude. She was beautiful.” Gojo hops off the counter after noticing a customer walk-in, dusting his hands off. Shoko groans, rolling her eyes. “I swear to god, if you hook-up with another-” Geto whips his head in her direction, scowling. “Oh, shut up.” “No, she's right. Do you know how many people we’ve lost because of you?” Satoru chimes in, ripping off the paper from the printer. Walking to the other side of the back counter and pinning the order on the assembly line above . “What was the last guys name? I think it was jay…Or was it Rowan?” Geto smacks the back of his head. “Ow!” “Shut the fuck up, this is different.” They sit there quietly for a while. Shoko walks by shaking her head, glancing at the order sheet before getting to work on the milk bread while Gojo works on the drink. “You’re just mad cause you know we’re right.” 

“Anyway..” Suguru grits, glaring at them both briefly. “She had came in as soon as I opened almost. I was kind of irritated because like..who is up and about that early in the morning, but when i turned around and it was like the world stopped..” Shoko and Satoru rolled their eyes simultaneously. “I don’t know if it was the sunset and the lights playing tricks on me or what, but it looked like she was literally glowing. And she had these gorgeous [e/c] eyes. Her hair was pushed back and so i could see her face and she was the most beautiful person I’ve seen. Her voice was nice too, was kinda velvety but still sounded sweet.” “What was her name?” Satoru mumbled, crushing pieces of mango in the bottom of the glass, adding flavored iced cubes in shortly after. “[Reader].” Shoko looks up from the plate she was preparing. “You get her number?” His lips part slightly before pressing them together, looking down before mumbling lowly. “No.” Shoko and Gojo snicker at his misfortune, watching as he wallows in a corner.

    •───────•°•❀•°•───────•

It’s well into the evening, things have slowed down. Few people, students, sitting in keeping to themselves as the trio have a hushed conversion. The bell that hangs above the door goes off, causing said employees to disperse lazily. “Good evening.” Shoko says with a smile on her face, The other two sit there on their phones. “Hello!” Suguru’s head snapped up, It was her. The girl from this morning. Twice in one day? He didn’t know what he did to deserve this but he is not complaining. He shoves his phone in his back pocket, straightening his clothes a little and tucking the loose hairs from his half-up, half-down, hairstyle away before turning around from behind the counter. 

“H-Hey!” He waved briefly, a lop-sided smile plastered on his lips as he tries to not sweat literal bullets. [Reader] looks at him briefly before doing a double take and her eyes widen slightly, a huge smile on her face. “Oh, hey Suguru!” His heart stuttered a bit. “What are you doing back here?” “I wanted to study but i didn’t want to stay cooped up at home either. Ya’know?” Geto chuckles a bit awkwardly, shaking his head. “Totally.” He had no clue what she was talking about. “Uh, what did you wanna get?” He lightly pushes Shoko away with his hip, taking over the register. She looks up the menu that hangs above, Suguru uses this as a chance to admire her. His eyes slightly lidded with a gentle and dreamy look in them.

“Uhhh, i’ll take a dragonfruit mocktail and a vanilla bean cake.” He jumps slightly, straightening his posture.  “Five, fifteen.” He pops open the register once he notices her pulling out cash. Handing her change once he takes it. “No need, keep the change.” His brow lifted, “Seriously?” “Yeah.” Suguru closes the drawer, pocketing the little money. “I’ll get it to you soon.” He nods, as she walks away with a small ‘thanks’. “So when's the wedding?” Gojo giggled. Geto rolls his eyes, he honestly forgot they were even there. “Oh fuck off.” “You should’ve seen the way you were looking at her.” Shoko added. He rolls his eyes moving past them to start on the order. “Okay, whatever. Can you not be so loud about it? She’s literally two feet away.” Gojo strolls to the side of him, leaning on his elbow to look at him despite Suguru deliberately avoiding him. “So, you gonna get her number?” He leans over him, grabbing the small pitcher of lime juice. “Uhh, maybe.” He says slowly, pouring a little of it before grabbing the bag of freeze dried dragon fruit. 

“If you don’t i will.” Shoko declared, leaning against the counter on the other side of Geto. Watching [Reader] as she sat in the bean bag across the way. Pulling out her laptop. “Like hell you will.” Suguru argued, smashing up the fruits at the bottom of the cup and putting ice in it. “Don’t even know if she’s single.” He grumbled, snatching the liter of sprite from the mini fridge.  “Just ask, and if she says she isn’t, get her number.” Gojo shrugs. “Yeah, you’re making a big deal out of nothing.” Shoko added, getting a slice of vanilla cake out and on a plate. He sighs. “I’ll try.”

☆A/N. I don't know how to feel on the ending. I'm making the masterlist for this soon. If any want to be on the tag list let me know!

© 2023 lunerenzo, please don’t plagiarize or translate work.

[ckret2]

👀 I want to hear more about this Bill AU

You were the very first person to send me an ask about the Bill AU, and it was an open-ended question, so I've been saving your ask special for... a fanfic. IDK how often or how much I'm gonna write actual full fic for this AU but for now, here: the first half of Bill's reunion with the Pines family. (Attempted murder included.)

(Edited 7/28/2024 - now compatible with TBOB!)

####

February 25, 2013

The vengeful demon standing in the door of the Mystery Shack possessed only four items in the universe:

Two safety pins.

A time tape tied around his waist like a belt.

And a tunic he'd fashioned himself in the style of an ancient Greek Doric chiton, folded and pinned so perfectly that the wearer must have seen them thousands of years ago when they were at the height of fashion.

Soos couldn't identify an authentic Doric chiton. All he knew was that the tourist who'd just come in looked like a short fat lady with brown skin, curly golden hair, weirdly skinny arms, bulging jaundiced eyes, and a toga made out of a bright purple children's Pony Heist bedsheet.

Soos laughed, flashing the tourist a double thumbs up. "Hey! Awesome toga. That should really be like a thing. Imagine if we all wore togas. We could just wake up, roll our bedsheets around us like a burrito, and go out!"

"Watch out, you can't tell when Big Fashion is listening in." 

"Haha. Who?"

The tourist hadn't looked at Soos once; instead, her gaze was darting around the shop restlessly.

"Are you shopping for something specific?" Soos asked with his best customer service voice. "Post cards? Snow globes? Weird taxidermy thingamajigs? Pants?"

"Where are the Pines?" the tourist asked, casting a sharp look at the "employees only" door, then the vending machine.

"Oh, Mr. Pines! The original Mr. Mystery! Heh—he actually retired a few months ago. The Mystery Shack's under new management!" Soos planted his fists on his hips and puffed up his chest. "It's me, I'm the new management."

"But where are they?" the tourist pressed.

"Uhh, he and his bro are somewhere in South America, I think? Hey, if you wanna meet him in person, his last letter said he might visit for spring break if the family can make it. First week in April."

"First week in April," the tourist muttered. She glanced over her shoulder toward the door, thoughtfully fiddling with the time tape wrapped around her waist.

"Oh, dude! I've tried to use a tape measure as a belt too! Haha! It worked great, until I bumped the button and it retracted. Yeesh. Hey, do you want a fur belt? We sell fur belts now." Soos turned away, rummaging through the new display next to the t-shirts. "They're all sustainably, ethically harvested! I bought a bunch of old rugs from the Northwest Manor to slice up."

Soos grabbed up a fuzzy pink belt. "Check it, I think this is unicorn hide or something. Bet it'd go so good with that Pony Heist toga..."

The tourist had seemingly vanished in thin air. Soos looked around. "Huh." He shrugged and stuck the belt on a shelf beneath the cash register in case she came back and decided she wanted it later.

Once all the other visitors had left for the day, and Soos was left alone to clean up, he thought back to that togaed tourist whose yellowish eyes had never stopped moving—the way she'd looked toward the door as though worried someone was following her. Soos glanced around the shop nervously. "Is anyone there?" He lifted his broom like a samurai sword. "Hello? Big Fashion?"

Nothing answered. He shrugged and kept sweeping.

###

April 1, 2013

A vengeful demon who possessed nothing but two safety pins, a time tape belt, and a purple Pony Heist bedsheet chiton stood in the center of the Mystery Shack gift shop.

Which was weird, because Soos didn't hear the door and she totally hadn't been standing there a moment ago.

"Oh hey! Toga Lady!" Soos turned to Wendy, who was picking up a few bucks working spring break while Melody visited her family. "It's Toga Lady. She came in like a month ago. The toga's cool, right? I think it's cool."

Wendy glanced up, choked back a laugh, and scrambled to grab her phone for a picture.

"So, where are the Pines?" Toga Lady asked, with an edge of impatience.

"Oh, dude, did you come all the way back here to meet them? Sorry, the Mr. Pineses couldn't make it. They couldn't get a flight out of Atlanta." Soos stopped, frowned, and pulled a water-stained letter from his pocket to double check. "Sorry, Atlantis. Something about a giant lobster attack?"

"Daryll would pick now to invade," Toga Lady muttered. "I suppose the children aren't here."

How did she know about the children? Maybe she'd visited last summer and remembered them? Like, early summer, before Pony Heist came out. Soos would have remembered the toga. "Naw, heh. They went to Roswell."

"Oh, cool," Wendy said distractedly, busy texting a picture of Toga Lady to everyone she knew. "Checking out the competition."

"Yeah, Dipper's sending me like a billion pictures of the alien museum."

"Well," Toga Lady said impatiently, "when are they showing up?"

Soos was beginning to get the impression that Toga Lady was less an admiring fan, and more one of those customers. The kind that used speaking to the manager as a threat. All the same, he said, "June first, for sure. That's when the kids get here for summer break so the Mr. Pineses are coming too. Definitely. Promise."

She rolled her eyes—one of them twitched, like she'd gotten something in it and was struggling to keep it open—but said, "All right, fine! June. What's the difference? I've waited this long." She leaned next to the door by the snow globe shelves, fiddling with her belt, as if she was settling in to wait right there for the next two months.

Soos frowned—she might drive off tourists, blocking the door like that—but said, "Oh! While you're here, I thought you might be interested in this belt." He reached past Wendy to grab it from beneath the cash register. "I didn't get a chance to show you last time before—"

He looked toward the door. She was gone. "Huh. Did you see Toga Lady leave?"

Wendy shrugged. "Wasn't looking."

"Huh." Soos replaced the belt. At least he knew when he'd see her next.

###

June 1, 2013

"What's with the belt?" Stan asked.

"Oh! It's for a regular." Soos pointed with both hands at the fuzzy pink belt peeking beneath his suit jacket. "I think she's comin' today. She wanted to meet the original Mr. Mystery."

"Hey, an admirer." Stan's chest puffed out and his grin widened. "Is she cute?"

"Uh... if you like bedsheet togas?"

"Ooh, a party girl."

"These are new," Ford said, inspecting a jar with an alien fetus floating in green goo.

"Oh, yeah!" Soos said, following as Stan joined Ford at the glass display case. "Dipper sent me like, a billion keychains of these little alien guys from Roswell. So I started filling Abuelita's empty spice jars with aliens and green jello. Cool, huh? It looks like we stole them from a secret government lab or something."

Stan laughed, slinging an arm around Soos. "Listen to this! Brilliant! I knew I put the right guy in charge."

Soos grinned goofily. "Aw, gee, Mr. Pines..."

A flash of purple caught the corner of his eye. Toga Lady was leaning next to the door by the snow globe shelves, fiddling with her belt.

Here was a chance to show off his great business instincts with Stan watching. Time to make a sale. "Oh, hey, Toga Lady! I didn't hear you come in! Still rockin' Pony Heist, huh? Hey, I've been trying to show you this belt I think you'll like..."

But she wasn't listening to him. Her gaze was fixed on the Pines twins' backs. As Soos watched, her expression darkened, and her grin widened.

The vengeful demon reached past the snow globes, seized a heavy "mysterious green crystal cluster ($250)" made of glue and broken glass, and heaved it up over his head. "Hey, Sixer!" Face contorted in a snarl of a smile, he turned the cluster over, sharp shards pointing downward. "Welcome home!"

Bill Cipher swung the glass weight down toward Ford's head.

(If you wanna keep reading, all chapters are on tumblr right here!)