#he decided not to include me in his next game in my imaginations

[zenmom]

Can’t believe I had this memory of Oswald singing Drift away. The song brings me so many memories….

And this one

Including the betrayal of my once favourite video game character. 😔

I don’t know who is my favourite in place of that betrayed character. Maybe knight from hollow knight? Look, I’ve played so many games and I’ve no idea which character is my favourite. It’s been a long time since I’ve played video games with a well known character or a fixed character (a character you cannot customise, unlike your avatar) so it’s either Oswald from EM2 or Knight from hollow knight.

[joonipertree]

Sano Manjiro, the most frustrating man to have a crush on

You learnt that Mikey punched a guy who asked you out. Mikey refuses to explain why. Both of you are dumbasses.

Tags: fluff, stupid shit, getting together, friends to lovers, fem bodied reader, smut at the end, it's him just eating you out sjsns, slight Dom/sub undertones because I can't help myself

  Mikey was a dumbass. 

In every sense of the word, he was a short fucking dumbass with a deep melodic voice and great hair. The biggest dumbass in the world. You wanted to punch him in the face and kiss him at the same time. Genuinely, you couldn’t stand that man. In no way could you imagine him ever being a good boyfriend. He’d suck at it-----

“Oi, Sano Manjiro.” 

The man in question turned, face dead and eyebrow twitching. 

“What?”

“Did you beat up the guy? 

“I beat up a lot of guys.”

“The guy who asked me out.”

Mikey sat back with his palms on the ground and Toman jacket secured on his back. His hair had gotten long, a bit too long for his liking and he still hadn’t decided how to cut it. You’d already taken the liberty over the last few weeks to tie them in pigtails and braid them to your heart’s content. He’d just walk around like that without batting an eye. 

“Yeah, he went out with one hit. You could do better.”

“Do you know who you are? The fuck. That could have killed him.”

“He isn’t in the hospital or anything.”

You turned around, not being able to take a look at your friend anymore than you needed to. Everyone around you stared with either pity or annoyance. Sanzu, Emma and Ken-chin were utterly done with Mikey’s dumbassery and Chifuyu was done with yours. Baji and Kazutora were done with both of you. They just always choose the stupid people as friends. 

“You weren’t gonna say ‘yes’ were you?”

And you weren’t. The boy had very bravely confessed his feelings for you (unlike some people) and before you could even tell him your answer, he’d told you to think about it at least. You’d appreciated it and left at that, already planning on saying no. 

“Maybe I was, what’s it to you?”

“Oh my god,” Emma muttered out in agony. 

"Maybe you should nurse him back to health then." 

"Yeah I was already planning on it." 

No you were not.

You left with an emphasis on your steps, back straight and eyes hard because you were stubborn. You didn't care if Mikey won at being the most stubborn person in the block, you would beat him at his own game.

♡

"You know he likes you. He has for years. He knows you like him. Just fuck already." Chifuyu moaned out, having gotten over the shoujo vibes very quickly after seeing the slow burn drag out. 

"I dunno what you're talking about." 

You wanted to deny it. Not deny that you were in love with Mikey but deny he was in love with you. Because admitting it meant hoping for something to happen and false hope got you hurt. People got close, they saw you in your humanity and ran away. The only people you trusted not to leave were your friends, Mikey included. 

"Oh come on. I have given you a powerpoint presentation and a whole binder worth of evidence that Mikey likes you. I nearly got wiped out by Draken for taking one too many pictures." 

You snorted. Chifuyu being a romantic buffoon with an overeager imagination made it harder for you to accept it. But you did acknowledge, not with the binder full of pictures and 'receipts', that Mikey had a soft spot for you. 

You got close at 17, Mikey being an extroverted loud mouth and you being a shy but curious introvert. He took you on bike rides, talked to you while making eye contact, held your hand and pulled you next to him and you fed him bites of your food and let him sleep on your lap. 

But you wanted to argue that….Mikey was just friendly like that. 

It had been a few years before you noticed that Mikey rarely made eye contact with people while talking but always asked for your attention. You both were hopeless and were just waiting for the other one to confess. It was getting painful. 

Chifuyu's eyes shifting to the side made you alert because he wasn't good at acting. And when he got up and ran, you knew who came inside. 

"Hi, Captain! Bye, Captain!" 

Mikey sat in front of you, dark bottomless eyes staring into your soul. You looked back at him, still pissed that he punched a perfectly nice guy. He then eyed your sundae and you immediately pulled it closer to you. He needed to learn that actions had consequences and that you weren't weak for him.

  With a pout, Mikey placed his chin on his arms, splayed out on the table. It made you aware how broad he was, fingers nimble and boney and angular.

 Pretty. Always so pretty. 

"How's your boyfriend doing?" 

Your teeth clicked and with a roll of your eyes, you established that Mikey needed to get pushed off a cliff somewhere. 

"So you aren't gonna tell me?" 

"Tell you what?" Mikey drawled out, looking up at you through his eyelashes. 

"Why you punched an innocent dude."

"He pissed me off." 

"Why?" 

"Did you say yes?" 

"Answer me first." 

"I did." 

You glared, taking a petty bite of your ice cream in retaliation. Mikey glared back harder, only changing when he looked out the corner of his eyes. You were about to turn your head before he spoke up again. 

"It was an accident." 

Your snort was loud and unattractive, hiding your face to try and compose yourself. When you looked up,Mikey's face had softened. 

"I don't believe you." 

"It's the truth. Answer my question." 

You debated your options. Because maybe saying that 'yeah I want to date him' would be going too far considering it would be a lie. But admitting that you didn't meant even more probing questions. Like why you were annoyed at Mikey for punching someone you didn't wanna date.

"Why do you care?" You retaliated like a dumbass.

"You're pissing me off." 

"Good." 

There was another pause. Mikey's hand moving to steal your bowl. You swerve it away from him with no chance of winning with his reflexes and the limited space. So your hand went to grab his wrist. 

Your heart raced at immediate contact. You became all too aware of him. Aware of his delicate wrist, the muscle, the bone that jutted out, the blue veins against pale skin. You became aware of his reddened and bruised knuckles, his calluses and ripped cuticles. They were hands of a delinquent, that liked to grip things too tight and didn't mind rough surfaces and reveled in strenuous activity. They were big too, too big against your own hand and too rough for your soft skin. 

And they were warm, soaking into you to leave a lasting impression. 

Mikey let go of the bowl in favor of holding your arm, gentle and all encompassing. His thumb rubbed against your skin, causing goosebumps to form and a shiver to run down your spine. 

"I was fighting with Takemitchy. The dude got caught in the crossfire. My hand landed on his face by accident. I can show you Mitchy as proof. He still looks run down. Even I took a few hits." 

You saw. Saw the scratches on his face and the redness of his jaw. It made you want to chide him for not bandaging himself. But he always liked it when you did it. Your eyes couldn't meet his, staring at your fingers wrapped around his wrist and his thumb rubbing your skin. 

"You need to stop fighting in public settings." 

"It wasn't that bad. A tire or two got thrown around but that's about it." 

"Where did you--- not gonna ask." 

Mikey giggled, soft and gravelly. You were reminded that the years changed his voice in a way that was still his. There was a pause and you realised the question eating away at you wouldn't go away until you asked it. The secret you kept wouldn't help being hidden away. You were tired and just wanted him. 

"You know……I talked to the guy today. Went to meet him." 

Mikey's eyes instantly hardened, looking away with a click of his tongue. 

"Ah, did he tell you I knocked his brains out? You shouldn't date a liar." 

"No," you tried to keep your voice casual, "he told me that it hurt but you weren't even looking at him when it happened. He just got too close." 

"Then why did you ask---" 

"He apologised though, said he didn't know I had a boyfriend." 

Mikey’s lips tugged upwards, turning his head to the side so he could catch his composure. And you were ready to slap the shit out of him. 

“Huh, I don’t know what gave him that impression. We must look good together.”

“I feel like you saying ‘that’s for asking my girl out’ after you hit him might’ve done the trick.”

Mikey held his hands up in surrender, knees knocking against yours almost to tease. 

"I didn't hit him, I just repurposed the accident. Didn't want it to go to waste." 

"Manjiro." 

"What?"

"I'm not yours." 

"Since when?" 

"Since always!!" 

His eyebrows furrowed, leaning back with a huge frown like you'd just told him his house burnt down. 

"What the fuck?"

"You can't just make me yours without asking me first, asshat." 

"Everyone knows you're mine."

"I dont." 

Mikey took your hand, lips on the back of it as if it was a normal part of his day. But your breath hitched and you froze. Because oh---

"I found you first." 

Your palms slammed against the table.

"If you wanna kiss me so bad then do it on my mouth, you coward---"

And within the next second, Manjiro’s mouth crashed into yours. It nearly knocked you back, if it wasn’t for his hand at the back of your head, curling into your hair. You whimpered against him, his lips tugging into a satisfied smirk. 

Chifuyu had yelled out, “Fucking finally!!”

The sound of your lips parting away from each other was enough to make you want to lean back in. Your lips weren’t willing to move even an inch away from him. He tasted good. Like vanilla. And he had trouble keeping himself away from you as well, leaving chaste kisses on the corners of your mouth, fingers keeping your chin lifted up. 

A throat was cleared, your cheeks instantly burned with the realisation of where you were. Mikey glared at the waiter who just let him know that it was time to leave. And with fingers interlocked, Mikey pulled you away from the diner, sticking out his tongue to Ken-chin who sighed in relief and leaned against Emma.

You got on his bike without question, heart racing because oh god--

The door to his room slammed open and he barely paid attention to anything with his arm around you. You giggled as he lifted you up and swirled you inside with a flourish. Once the door was shut, his laughter was loud and warm as his lips crashed into you, hungry for more. And you let him lead you, combing your hand through his hair causing him to shiver. 

Mikey hugged you close, gentle in his touch and you let him swallow you whole and envelop you. When his tongue prodded against your lip, you parted them easily as if he didn’t even have to ask. And oh, he felt good.

 But Mikey will spend the rest of your lives telling you that you were the best feeling in the world. 

“Mine.” Manjiro murmured out, sucking on your lower lip so harshly that your whole body did a visceral shudder. 

You were breathing hard when you parted, eyes hazy but daring as you looked your best friend in the eye. 

“You still haven’t asked me, asshat.”

Manjiro growled, eyes narrowed and twitching. Your head and body threw itself back as you burst out laughing, feeling free because you knew Mikey’s arm would never let you fall. That led your neck to be exposed to the littering kisses Manjiro gave out of vengeance.

 You squealed as it tickled and felt your knees give out against the bed beneath you. He’d backed you up, without you noticing, like a predator cornering its prey for a meal well earned. 

You felt yourself sink into the soft mattress, hand reached out to tug his shirt down towards you. Manjiro just stared at you, eyes gleaming with an emotion you didn’t understand and a grin so wide you could see all his teeth. 

“Mine, in every timeline.” Mikey whispered. 

And your breath hitched, speaking out without a second thought. 

“Yours, in every universe.” 

Manjiro’s eyes watered and he finally enveloped you, body a welcomed weight as he kissed you in slow languid bliss. 

“Good baby,” he whispered and you whined out. 

You pawed at him, liking the praise a little too much. Manjiro’s kisses left a wet hot trail as he went from your chin to your cheek. A wet sound heard every time his lips disconnected from you. You let him have his way, feeling his hand pat the side of your head. 

You wanted to kiss him back but every time you tried, he clicked his tongue in disapproval and you just laid there as he poured his love into you. You had begun to tear up because Manjiro's love was overwhelming and it was for you.

Your eyes closed as his lips met your eyelids, tasting the salty tears and pulling back to inspect your face. You mewled at the lost contact, opening your eyes and pouting.

Oh, how dare he 

He hushed you, hand patting your head again, lips continuing their venture on your face. 

 Your legs wrapped themselves around his waist. And both of you became aware of the effect the intimacy had on you.

 Manjiro pressed into you, hips solid and confident. And you felt his bulge against your pussy, only his pants and your underwear in the way. it was enough to drive you insane. 

You yearned and yearned and begged with pretty fluttery eyes that had him breathless. 

“Yeah? You wan’ me, honey?”

And despite the embarrassment, you nodded with the biggest pout you could muster. And Manjiro melted just at that, ready to burn the world for you if you asked him to. In another timeline, he probably had. 

“Haven’t even been dating for a minute and you're already so needy.”

He didn’t even let you blubber out a complaint before your underwear was exposed to him. And you craved him so badly that your legs made space for only Manjiro. He appreciated it, boney fingers squeezing your hips before imprinting the memory of the wet patch into his mind. 

Oh you were so sweet. A type of pliable that was only given to those you trusted. 

“Not allowed to hide anything, okay?”

And with that, his nose traced the outline of your pussy, tongue peaking out for a taste that just wasn’t enough for you. Your thighs squished against his cheeks and he groaned, pressing his full mouth onto you. Your hips jutted upwards, a cry weak and wobbly escaping your lips. And with effort, you spoke.

“Stop teasing, jerk.”

The warmth was too much, you could feel him right there but the cotton was in the way. Despite your protest, he lapped you up out of greed. And your hands clutched onto his hair. 

“If there’s nothing between us, I won’t be sane.” You heard him say and it just made you needier. 

“Don’ want you to be. Please.”

And with that, his hand ripped your panties out of the way. Manjiro took a second to stare in awe at your pretty pussy. It was so wet, begging him to eat it out, practically drooling. Many thoughts went through his head.

How it would feel to be inside you, how warm it would be, if he could last long in the tightness? If he'd ever be able to survive without the taste of your pussy after this moment? If he gave your cunt a smack, would you like it?

Manjiro decided that keeping you waiting was the worst thing he could possibly do. 

Mikey was a lot more hungry than he thought he was. Your pussy was engulfed in his mouth.

 The direct contact was enough to make him moan. Your own got stuck in your throat, not realising how overwhelming it would be. When his tongue prodded inside, you let him guide your legs against your chest so that he could have more access. And then it plunged inside and you let out a warbled moan that felt too loud in your own ears. With a hand covering your mouth, you tried to suppress the little sounds tumbling out of you.

Manjiro’s middle finger tapped against the plush of your thigh and he pulled away with effort to say:

“No hiding. Be good.”

You cried out, flexing your fingers in his hair as he went back to the task at hand. And you let yourself voice out the feeling, soft “ah, ah, ah”s filling the air and causing you to tear up in embarrassment. 

“Wan’ to be-be good for you.”

“Mhmmm,” He answered with the vibration of his hum shooting through your pussy and into your back that arched almost painfully. 

The orgasm came out of nowhere, crashing into you the second Manjiro’s mouth wrapped around your clit and sucked. 

You didn’t even care how loud you were being, brain wiping out everything it had as your body arched and twitched. Manjiro only stopped lapping your cum when you flinched away, kissing your inner thigh before moving to you for a kiss. 

You let him inside your mouth easily, whimpering and pawing at his shoulder as you held him close. You shook in his embrace, muttering out weak and tiny ‘thank you’s that had him chuckling at you. 

“Did your Manjiro make you feel good, bubba?” 

“Uh-huh.” You nodded, kissing the corner of his lips in appreciation. 

[devilstruly]

SUB (?) JASON TODD (18+)

pairing - red hood x fem reader

includes - bondage (m), masturbation, vouyerism, riding, sub turning to dom (if that's not a thing it is now), pet names (princess bc jason is 100% a princess guy and i will die on this hill)

a/n - i think about this man 24/7 i have nothing to say for myself

Imagine tying this 6'5 man down to a chair. it's near the bed, angled just right so he can see everything you're doing. Now you're no fool, tying him down with something as weak as a rope simply won't do.

So you do the next best thing, two sets of handcuffs, not the cheap ones, the actual metal ones that have a key, currently hanging on a chain around your neck. A chain that he gifted you and that he's sure you wore on purpose.

Anywho, he’s sitting in his Red Hood suit, helmet and jacket off, hair sticking to his forehead with sweat, cock straining painfully against his pants.

'Eyes on me, Jay, c'mon. I'm doing this for you.'

Your voice is an octave higher and you barely manage a full sentence due to your ragged breathing.

Jason groans, growls more like it, eyes narrowing at you.

'You're playing dirty, princess.' He grits out, arms flexing and hands clenching into fists.

'Who? Me?' You bite your lip to suppress a moan as you curl your fingers. 'Dunno what you're talking about.'

His eyes watch like a hawk when your thighs flex and shake, your head thrown back in a loud moan of his name.

He curses violently, tugging at the restraints for the milionth time. The keys jiggle with your breasts as you move from the bed slowly, throwing your legs over his to effectively straddle him.

Jason's eyes don't leave your body for even a second, completely in a trance. It's only when you hook a finger under his chin and force him to look you in the eyes that he regains focus.

'You're driving me fucking insane, I hope you know that.'

The admission makes you smile, almost seductively and Jason swears he feels his dick twitch in his pants.

You start grinding on him slowly, spelling his name with your hips. His eyes roll back in ecstasy, strings of curses leaving him between breathless moans and whimpers.

He takes one look at the keys between your breasts, deciding he's had enough of your games. Taking you by surprise he leans forward and snaps the chain using his teeth.

Somehow he manages to take it in one of his hands, quickly escaping the first set of cuffs.

'Hey! No fair-'

You protest, still straddling him, hands on his chest. Jason merely grunts as he unlocks the other pair in record speed, hands flying to your hips immediately.

'You've been in charge enough, princess. Now it's my turn.'

His eyes are blown with lust as they rake over your figure and the small pout on your face.

'But I wanted to- Ah!'

Any complaints you might have had are shut down immediately when he starts moving you at a pace he likes, a loud sigh of relief escaping him.

'You were saying?'

[cevansbrat0007]

Sweet Renegade Series Masterlist

About the Sweet Renegade Series: A new arrival in town leads to an unexpected complication in the form of a sexy as sin Bounty Hunter named Ari Levinson.

This series features a collection of one-shots centered around a small town romance between Bounty Hunter Ari Levinson and a reluctant, curvy Reader.

It will also contain mature themes such as Sex, Interracial Relationships, Soft D/s Themes, Discussions of Body Image, Disordered Eating, Discussions of Race, Occasional Depictions of Violence, Cursing, and more. Minors, please do not engage or interact.

Special thanks to @curls-and-eyeliner for helping me brainstorm ideas. Thank you for reading and I look forward to sharing more soon! (**) indicates smut

Series Intro

New In Town: Introducing my Sweet Renegades Series. Sparks fly when you accidentally find yourself sitting next to Bounty Hunter, Ari Levinson.

Hello, Duchess: Your first encounter with Bounty Hunter, Ari Levinson, goes worse than you ever could've imagined.

The Do-Over: Everyone deserves a second chance, including jerks like Bounty Hunter, Ari Levinson.

A Friend in the Dark Part I: Ari receives an unexpected call from you in the middle of the night. **

New! A Friend in the Dark Part II: After receiving an unexpected call from you in the middle of the night, Ari's not going to let anything stop him from getting to you. But will he make it in time?

Untitled Story: Coming Soon

Sweet Morning Light: Watching you sleep has Ari hungry for more. Which means it's time for breakfast. And it looks like you're on the menu... **

Thirst Trap: Ari loves looking at your ass in those shorts, as long as he's the one who gets to walk behind you. **

Back to Sleep: Ari has the perfect cure for your insomnia. **

On the Clock: Ari stops by for a snack while he's out chasing a lead. **

Creep: You sneak out of the house to go on a midnight supply run, which inadvertently sends Ari into panic mode. ** [Request]

Moments Shared: You and Ari share a moment during a lazy afternoon... **

Quickie: You get caught up in the moment while dropping off dinner to your favorite bounty hunter.

Sweet Tooth: Ari gets inventive when he finds himself in the doghouse with you. ** [Request]

Sweet Tooth Deluxe: Ari teaches you a much needed lesson about ignoring him. ** [Request]

Sugar Fix: Your poor attempt at a joke lands you in hot water with your man. Takes place directly after the events in Sweet Tooth and Sweet Tooth Deluxe. ** [Request]

Disturbing the Peace: You're keeping a secret from Ari - one that you'll have to tell him about eventually. Right?

Forget-Me-Not: Ari forgets to do something important before leaving out the door...

The Scent of you: Ari loves the sweet scent of you, which is why he's content to live between your thighs. **

Case of the Ex: Part I: Just as you decide to explore your feelings for Ari, an unexpected blast from your past sends you reeling...

Southern Comfort: A day after your ex-boyfriend's unexpected return, you show up on Ari's doorstep intending to ask for a little time. Too bad your grumpy bounty hunter isn't feeling particularly charitable. **

An Afternoon with Minerva: Ari finds himself finally ready to admit the truth about his feelings for you...

Off the Market: Ari learns that you're not the sharing type. Which is fine by him, because neither is he.

A Man Starved: Ari lives for the taste of you on his tongue... ** [Request]

The Slam: Ari has had a enough of your TikTok foolishness...

Risky Business: Ari doesn't like it when you take unnecessary risks. So tonight he's going to teach you a lesson you won't soon forget. **

Worthy of You: After being forced to confront his own demons, Ari begins to question whether or not he is worthy of you.

Miscellaneous Asks, Drabbles, & One-shots:

New! Witches' Brouhaha: Ari saves you from a real-life fright on Halloween night...

New! Guessing Games: Ari doesn't like being kicked out of your bedroom.

What's Eating You, Mr. Levinson?: You decide to test your man's patience with a prank you saw on TikTok. CLICK HERE to read Andrew Barber's reaction to the same prompt. [Request]

Cross-Country Christmas: When Ari is left stranded at the airport on Christmas Eve, you find yourself in need of a little holiday miracle... **

The Anatomy of An Orgasm: You make the mistake of faking an orgasm while in bed with Ari... ** [Request]

Convincing Ari to Dance with You: [Request]

Regrets Only: Ari reaches his limit with your latest TikTok prank... ** [Request]

Bad Days: Ari helps you get through a particularly bad day... **

Michèle: Ari doesn't approve of your latest trip to the spa. ** [Request]

Jiggly: You find yourself feeling a little self-conscious after it becomes clear you've gained a little weight. **

Easy, Baby: Ari just wants to do his part to help you relax. **

Promises, Promises: Ari exacts a promise from you as a reward for his patience. **

[erideights]

Little pieces here and there (3)

Pairing: Buggy x Fem!Reader (One Piece Live Action)

Chapters: one, two, four, five

Word Count: around 2K again.

Warnings: minimum context of the arlong park part of the story (background), MUTUAL FLIRTING, forbiden pinning of them both, Buggy has his body back *wiggling eyebrows*, sexy times

A/N: devil works hard but i'm working harder, every 5 free min i have from work/class/practices i'm writing on my phone, i'ts actually insane and i love it (ROAD TO CHAPTER 4?? If you like this one and want the next one, please let me know!)

Oh, he was mad. He was really mad.

Maybe "sexually frustrated" was a way more accurate term given the circumstances but the feeling was so strong, so visceral, he was sure he was reaching a point where jumping to the sea to end that agony -even if a bit exaggerated, like him always, everywhere and for everything- was justified.

Somewhere in Arlong Park, Buggy could feel the boner pressing his pants, demanding to be satisfied; dirty talk was one of his true passions and when (Y/N) played that card on him, being capable of picturing himself with her on his lap, that damn woman so -actually- close to his face in that moment he was already tasting her lips, her low, smooth voice driving him insane, he could not help it, but get turned on so easily and so strong is been hours, and he's still mad, incapable of stop thinking about that.

That is, perhaps, the reason he feels relief as soon as the sun rises and Usopp is back on the helm again, asking for directions as Buggy, in fact, demands to go faster. Like instead of slicing and dicing his body, his power could control the wind that propelled the boat or the force of the waves against the hull.

(Y/N) ran away just after such a -even if brief- conversation. She may have broken his balls with that dirty trick, but she was equally a victim of her own game. She knew what to say to push Buggy and leave him so stunned -to speak- that the poor clown didn't have the chance to fight back at that moment, not without his body to help him keep her in that kitchen, lift her up on the counter, force her to back down, regret even thinking she could do that to him, and then, only then, yes, fuck her until she wakes up the rest of her little and - according to him - pathetic crew with her moans.

Or so the girl imagined, leaning against the door of her room, eyes closed, heart slightly racing, fighting the temptation to lie down on the bed and masturbate thinking about what had just happened.

Which included him. Him!! What the hell, was she actually losing her mind? All that damn flirting had really gotten into her, for fucks sake, because regardless of her finding him quite interesting when they met, this attraction was something else.

Lately everything around her was something else. Did she really think through the decision of leaving her mercenary life behind and follow those kids to the Grand Line? Did she really think through the decision of flirting back with a psychopath clown?

Because in the end it's just that, right? Flirting. Was nothing else, is nothing else, and will be nothing else. She doesn’t want it to be something more, that's for sure; there's no need for unnecessary complications and extra headaches. In the meantime, it's fun, a bit of a backfire kind of situation, a bit -sexually- frustrating, but fun.

After a good ol' resting night and already some hours into the new day, (Y/N) notices that it's been a lot, since their encounter in the kitchen to be precise, that Buggy not only doesn't flirt with her, but doesn't talk that much or even look at her as amazed as before. Of course, he is, also, way less annoying, which Zoro subtly points out clearly pleased with how calm, nice and silent this morning is.

At some point she shakes her head, knowing, or at least guessing, the reason for this behavior, so she decides to check no one's around and the rudder is locked in the right direction, and then goes to where the bag with his head is, closed probably by the sniper when he got the last indications he needed from him. She opens it, lowering it until the clown's head is free on top of that barrel.

"How are you doing, Bugs?" she starts with a funny little smile, looking intently at him as she leans her back forward to leave her face level with his. "It's been hours I don't hear your raspy voice, I'm starting to miss it."

Silence. Absolute indifference besides the sidelong glance he gives her because let's face it, Buggy is annoyingly proud, extremely, exaggeratedly, but he loves attention. He likes nothing more than receiving it, no matter where, when, and from who, and she could see it as soon as they met.

"Also your silly nicknames for me" She grants, giving in. She would also be mad as hell if someone leaves her as horny as she knew she left him, so she doesn't have any problem being the one to start the tug-war this time.

"Already tired of the shidiots?" He finally asks, almost drily, after a minute; now he is the one to play difficult, huh? "No wonder, they don't even know where to start being pirates."

"Oh, of course, because no one compares to the famous Buggy The Clown, the colorful nightmare or the East Blue." Playful, she retreats a bit, resting her hip in the barrel, arms crossed over her chest.

"Quit the sarcasm doll, you know I'm right." Well, he was, in fact, right. None of them had real experience in the whole i-wanna-become-a-pirate thing, still, they were doing pretty good to be newbies. She was quite proud of them.

"I cannot wait to have my body back" he then murmurs, adding before she could say anything else about her new friends. "To do what?" She asks, you know, like she didn't know.

"Take a guess"

"Recover your spotlight? Find a new crew and a way to enter the Grand Line to go search the One Piece and be the king of the pirates?" (Y/N) mocks, clearly enjoying being the annoying one this time.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah'' Buggy rolls his eyes, scoffing. ''All that, but not before making you regret what you did last night." To that accusation she gasps, resting her right hand over her chest "What did I do last night?"

The clown falls silent again, but his mood is completely different. Right now he's not pissed off, it's obvious that this time, instead of flirting with her in a casual and natural way, he’s thinking what to say, choosing carefully his words to return a fraction of the effect she had on him hours ago.

His eyes darken, and his voice goes octaves lower and raspier. "Sweetheart, there will be no possible escape from what I plan to do with you. At the slightest opportunity I will make you cum on me so many times you will be the one to find the One Piece without needing to go to the Grand Line, but first…'' He pauses, breathes, and lets it go calmly, like the intimidating, psychopathic calculator she saw at the circus and not that flirty cartoonish version she got to know on the ship. ''you will beg for it."

She knows she shouldn't surrender to this type of tease, but she also can't and doesn't want to avoid it. Getting heavily carried away, without thinking about it twice, one of the girl's hands slides to the back of his neck, slipping under the bandana, and tugs his hair aggressively as she leans in again to speak close to his face. He grunts in pure satisfaction, closing his eyes for a second. Of course (Y/N) is, once again, taking advantage of the fact that he cannot defend himself no being more than a head, and the fact is that he enjoys like a condemned bastard those small but intense gestures the girl has given him since they met at the circus.

He can't wait to break a woman like her. And oh, he will.

"Are you sure about that?" Hearing distant steps, someone from the crew coming out on deck and climbing the stairs, she gets some distance from him, acting naturally, closing the bag again around his head. "My expectations just skyrocketed, I hope you don't disappoint."

By the end of the day, the Konomi Islands begin to appear on the horizon, and as soon as they set foot on them, shits get really serious. The situation of the poor people who live there is heartbreaking, so for two days, no one dares to make a single joke, Luffy's usual energy and bubbly positivity is nowhere to be seen, and of course, the interactions of (Y/N) and Buggy are reduced to = 0. The clown's head is no longer of any real use to them, and it’s poor Sanji, the new recruit, who’s carrying it around just in case.

At least until they reach Arlong Park.

Again, (Y/N) is not exactly the type of mercenary expert in martial arts and although she knows how to defend herself, fighting like Zoro or Sanji is, in few words, impossible. Her only advantage is being very, very fast, and knowing how to use the scenery to her advantage, so it doesn't take long for her to hide here and there among the different tents and attractions in the area to get rid of the most straggler fishmen, with a knife she got long ago during one of her jobs, capable of cutting their tough skin easily.

Everything happens so fast and is so chaotic that apart from some screams and blows in the background and having seen Usopp running towards the forest, (Y/N) is completely unaware of what is happening in the main complex.

A strong pull on her left arm activates her flight or fight response as one last fish falls dead to the ground in front of her. Raising the knife, in a quick movement, she tries to defend herself by aiming at the stranger's neck, although in vain; a pair of lips whose red has already been worn for days impact against hers, stealing her breath, a small moan escaping her. Eyes wide open, she barely registers the blurry color of Buggy's nose when two strong hands squeeze her hips as if the life of the clown depended on it, pushing the girl against the wall of the building behind them, cornering her without any type of delicacy.

She hadn't heard from him since they reached the island. Hell, she didn't even know he had got his full body back and was already so close to it that air was unable to pass between each other.

Of course, the moment the clown's head joined the rest of himself -the feeling much better than he remembered- he fucked off his captors and decided to flee. Not before making a vital stop along the way.

The ideas about how to proceed with her once he was whole were very, very different in his wild fantasies, but when he saw the girl's back, he knew that the only thing that would -partially- calm his yearning would be to kiss her before disappearing as fast as possible. To taste her lips, to feel her warmth.

Still not recovered from the shock of the kiss, Y/N doesn't remove the knife from the clown's neck, but he couldn't care less; quite the opposite. He is so turned on and waited so much -again, exaggerated- for this he doesn't know yet how he will be able to break the kiss, take distance from her, and run away.

Passionately carried away, moved by his most primitive instincts, Buggy sneaks one of his legs between hers, pressing in between them as Y/N inhales through her nose and her free hand flies to his vest, pulling it a little.

It wasn't the time, nor the place, to think about fucking that asshole, but damn, after all the teasing and the tension and the adrenaline of the fight--

And just when she starts fully giving in to him, he retreats just enough, panting a bit, and looks at her now red, stained lips, eyes darkened and full of lust. Just like hers.

"Hate to leave you like this sweetheart but I have things to do and places to go. I don't want people relating me to Arlong, I would hate the bad press on my persona." He whispers, cracking his usual cruel, playful smirk when he finally puts some distance between each other.

‘’It's time to exit stage left.’’ Buggy adds, theatrically raising both hands in the air. ‘’I promise I’ll see you around.’’

And like this, he stars running away again. Where? She doesn't know, or even guess at this moment, too busy registering the kiss in her memory, the way his lips felt on hers, how his nose pressed her cheek the entire time, or his hands grabbed onto her for dear life.

Bastard.

''You better'', she whispers to herself.

[bia-wayne-west]

Mom has a tattoo [Tim Drake x Batmom]

Synopsis: Tim Drake discovers that his mother, Batmom, got a tattoo without anyone knowing.

Characters: Tim Drake, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Damian Wayne, Bruce Wayne and Reader[You]

A/N: I wrote this in a few minutes, I hope it’s good. I made this imagine inspired by the fantastic imagine of @ellana-ravenwood. I hope that you who are reading have fun and enjoy what I wrote. Apologies for bad grammar

Requests are open

MASTERLIST

It was a surprise for your baby Tim. When he saw the birds drawn on his skin, Tim was by tour side when he noticed.

It all happened when you decided to watch a new TV show on Netflix. First, you made sure all your children, your husband, and Alfred were busy somewhere. Whenever you sit on the big sofa in the living room, one of your babies runs to sit next to you, demanding all your love and attention.

But this time you got confused and forgot to check if Timothy had his eyes on the video game. You were wearing a sleeveless t’shirt and old leggings. Your feet were covered in socks you stole from Bruce's closet.

You were watching the TV show's protagonist lie to her boyfriend. You felt like you were being watched and noticed your third child standing at the entrance to the room with a box of chocolates in his hand. You smiled at Timothy and patted the couch next to him. The boy ran with the candy in his hands, throwing himself next to you with a huge smile on his face.

“I was going down to the Batcave when I noticed you were watching Netflix alone. I came to keep you company, mom.”

“Oh my baby. Thank you for staying here with me.”

When you leaned over to pick up a bag of jelly beans, your hair fell to the side and tour shoulder was exposed. Timothy let out an exclamation of surprise when he saw that you had four birds tattooed on your shoulder. When you returned to your normal position, you noticed your baby looking at you with surprised eyes.

“DO YOU HAVE A TATTOO?” He shouted, pursing his lips.

You laughed and rolled down your shirt sleeve so the boy could see your tattoo in full.

“I did this a month ago. It has a meaning. I have four chicks and I made four birds to have my beautiful chicks with me until the end.”

“ Ah, it’s a beautiful meaning. But I would never have imagined that my mother would get a tattoo. Tattooing is something for young people.”

“Oh my god, Timothy, this really offended me.” You said, placing your hand on your chest while laughing. “ I want to have you with me even when I'm in a coffin and now I have you marked on my skin.”

“We will always be with you, mom. I love you and my brothers too.”

He hugged you tightly, smiling. You smiled back, thinking about the fact that Timothy rarely called Dick, Jason, and Damian brothers. It was unique to see that he really cared about his family.

“I love you, my little bird.”

Your lips kissed Tim's warm forehead. His head touched your shoulder and the two of you continued watching the TV show.

“Mom, when I'm sixteen, can you convince Dick and Jason to get a family tattoo? Like birds or a bat?”

“Of course, my dear. We can also include Bruce and Alfred and of course Damian when he's older."

[kaivenom]

can i request for some more heartbreak high ant fics, the last of it is killing me !!

A little competition

Summary: you get to a new recreatives on town and decide to try every game, apparenty one of the boys in your high school doesn't like someone beating his records.

Pairing: Anthony "Ant" Vaughn

Warnings: none

A/N: here it is, since this precious men has so little content, almost inexistent, i decided to do it myself.

Masterlist

You were new on town and your firsts days on high school weren't the best to make friends so you decided to get ot a new recreatives to try talking to people. You talked to many people and was really fun but the thing you succeded on was to beat game records, especially you beat up "Ant's" records in everygame he was on.

You had such a great time that you decided to go there again the next day. Some people greeted you in, it was great to feel a little included. You went to a new game and saw again, the highest record was "Ant". With a couple of tries, you succeded on surpass him, you couldn't help but imagine how the person would react when seeing the news. You went to grab a snack and talk to some people.

When you came back, you saw a cute guy with a cap and some other guys on the machine you were before, you recognized them from high school.

"Fuck man, i don't know who is this person but it's breaking my records in almost every game, if i catch them i will break some," you hide yourself behind one of the stalls.

"Men, it's not that important, but if you want, we can kick them for breaking your records."

That made you really scared and you had the sensation that every moment they could catch you. You got out of the local without catching their attention but you failed.

"Hi, are you the new girl from school, right?" you try to sound confident at his question.

"Yeah, i am Y/N, you?"

"Ant, you haven't by any chance saw a person on the machines getting really high scores, right?"

"What?, me? ... no. Why would i do that?" your nervousness was revealing you.

"There's no reason to be so nervous, unless..." he made a pause, thinking about it and then his face turned surprised, "You are..."

"i am a pacifist but i heard what you said i won't hesitate to fight." you form a punch and made a feint to prepare to fight.

"What? no. I was angry and with the boys, i don't want to hit someone so pretty."

"Ah , no?"

"I don't plan to do it, do you want me to?"

"No, of course."

"But i am still angry and i want to resolve this because i worked really hard to be that good."

"A competition on a two player game?"

He gave you his hand to shake it, sealing the deal and you both went inside. You decided to fight on a game that both of you weren't really good, to make things interesting. He won the first time, then you, then he two times, then you three... and continued to do so until the recreatives were closing.

"I liked doing this, maybe it's good to have a competitor that it's as good as me." he said with a grin.

"Wait, i winned you more."

"No, i winned more."

"We need to confirm that, here tomorrow, again."

"i am not going to be defeated by you pretty face."

"Why do you keep calling me that?"

"Because you are... well, if you win more tomorrow the i stop calling you pretty face but if i win, then i invite you to dinner." he said, giving you his hand to shake again.

"Okay, i will win but maybe the dinner it's still a good idea, but you pay."

"No, pretty face, if you want me to pay dinner the you have to loose."

You both laughed and went separatedly to your houses but really hoping that tomorrow gets fast to compete again.

[therapycat21]

All Right Now part 1

Travis Kelce x Famous!Reader Description: The reader catches the eye of famous footballer Travis.

Warnings: None Social media AU

ReaderOfficial:

Liked by:@brittanymahomes and 453,558 others

ReaderOfficial: Chillin with my girl!! go chiefs!! @brittanymahomes

user87: did not know she was a chiefs fan!!

user85:Since when!??

@brittanymahomes: soo much funn! love you girl!

ReaderOfficial: I know right, can't wait to do this again, love you too mama!

I'm broken from my thoughts by Brittany nudging my arm "Here is your drink" she hands me my drink before sitting back down next to me "I cannot believe you are even here right now" she laughs. I laugh taking a small sip of my drink "Why is it such a shock, I like football, just can't stand being bombarded by fans sometimes" I respond with a small laugh "Oh, and the jumbo camera, they're gonna know I'm here sooner or later and blast my face up there" I tell her. "You are absolutely not wrong" Brittany breaks out into laughter, earning us looks from the other families in the box.

Before I knew it, the game started, and everyone including me and Brit cheered for the players coming onto the field. Brittany louder after noticing Pat come out. I hear more cheering on the right of me from another family "Yeah! Let's go, baby!" the unknown man claps loudly "Come on Trav whoo!" The unknown man keeps clapping loudly with the two little girls next to him doing the same.

The game starts and right when the ball is thrown number 87 catches, bolting down the field, I look around and everyone is going crazy, hoping he makes the touchdown, me and Brit are standing, clenching our cups as everyone else in the stadium is and not even a second later he jumps and makes the touchdown. "OH my god!!" I yell at Brittany, jumping up and down clapping with her, we watch as he throws the ball into the crowd and starts dancing, we then hear the announcer

"TOUCHDOWN!! BY TRAVIS KELCE EVERYBODY!!!" The announcer screams. "Oh my god, that was absolutely amazing," I say out loud "I know right!" I hear from the right of me. It was the unknown man. He and the woman next to him laugh before the woman introduces herself "Hi, this is Jason, and I'm Kylie" she says extending her hand to mine. "Hi, it's nice to meet you guys!" I shake both of their hands. Before I knew it, Me, Kylie, and Brittany were all sitting together and talking about random stuff.

And all of a sudden the crowd goes silent before breaking out into wild screams and the announcers voice radiates through the stadium

"WE HAVE A SPECIAL LADY IN THE HOUSE TONIGHT, GIVE A WARM WELCOME TO 10-TIME GRAMMY AWARD WINNER, 6-TIME VMA WINNER Y/N!!!" My face is then popped on the jumbo screen, I stand up and start to shyly wave at everyone, and all I hear is the crowd screaming, I keep smiling until I decide to flash the Jersey I'm wearing (Imagine It's a Chief's jersey!) I look over and see Kylie and Brittany laughing before the screen is taken off of me.

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

Travis P.O.V

I'm walking to sit down on the side when I hear the crowd going crazier than normal and I look up towards the jumbo to see a beautiful woman and the familiar face of Mahome's wife and my sister-in-law Kylie laughing with the woman. Very confused until I hear the announcer

"WE HAVE A SPECIAL LADY IN THE HOUSE TONIGHT, GIVE A WARM WELCOME TO 10-TIME GRAMMY AWARD WINNER, 6-TIME VMA WINNER Y/N!!!"

oh shit, I knew I recognized her, kylie and the girls always listen to her music. I start laughing loudly before remembering I was mic'd, I reach down and grab onto the small microphone, smirking slightly and looking into one of the mic'd camera "I just seen y/n on the jumbo, just wanna let her know she needs a better jersey, preferably one with my number on the back, all right now " I laugh loudly before going back onto the field. The entire game I don't stop thinking about her and looking up at the family suite already seeing her laughing around with Kylie and Jason. Oh, she is definitely gonna be mine soon.

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

Y/N P.O.V

We all continue to watch the game after the crowd has now calmed down, with fans still taking pictures of us from afar. "hey y/n? your phone is going crazy right now" Brittany says pointing to the phone on the table, I reach over and open Instagram to see I've been tagged a ton over a post the NFL posted.

I play the video and see a guy with jersey 87 "I just seen y/n on the jumbo, just wanna let her know she needs a better jersey, preferably one with my number on the back, all right now " he smirks before laughing and running back onto the field. I can't stop the blush from spreading to my cheeks "Are you blushing right now?" Brittany asks me "Maybe" I laugh before covering my face "What's making you blush?" I then showed her my phone and played the video "Oh my god" she broke out into laughter gaining the attention of Kylie back over "What is going on over here?" she smiled, before I could say anything "Trav did a mic'd moment and told her she needs a new jersey but with only his number on it" Brittany tells her, "Oh my god, I cannot believe he did that, I gotta go tell Jason" she walks away laughing back to Jason. Being confused I ask Brit "Does she know him?" I question "Yeah, it's her husband Jason's younger brother" she replies turning back to the game. I look around before liking the post and posting it onto my story with the caption "time to upgrade the number ;)" Another hour goes by before the game is now over with the Chiefs winning and all of the guys doing their dance moves for the cameras. I get up and gather my stuff before walking over to Ky and Jason Hey just saying goodbye it was so nice to meet you guys" I smile at them before they each give me a hug and their Instagramss and their phone numbers so we can stay in contact.

Me and Brittany are both walking down, being escorted by security when we enter the lobby where some fans are waiting

"y/n I love you!" "we love you!" "when is your new song coming out?"

All I can hear are the questions being thrown at me "Soon my loves!" is all I respond with to them, I stop to sign a few shirts and take quick photos before finally getting to the private car. Taking a deep breath as the door finally shuts and the screams are being muffled.

I'm then broken out of my thoughts from my phone buzzing with notification, the last one shocking me.

kykelce started following you

JasonKelce started following you

Killatrav started following you

Killatrav liked 10 posts!

Like my writing? buy me a coffee! I would be so grateful!

[fallingdownhell]

May I request Zhongli, Itto, Kaveh and Cyno with an s/o who's got crazy good luck? They could win any challenge or game presented to them, never get hurt (to badly), and are always making loads of cash (somehow).

I can imagine at least one of those characters getting jealous over something like this.. Characters Included: Itto; Cyno; Zhongli; Kaveh Content: gender neutral reader; established relationship; crack??; some fluff and comedy; nothing too serious here, just some funny headcanons Word count: 942 words Have fun with this<3

Itto

the man, the myth, the legend himself..

he gets SO incredibly jealous. When he challenges you jokingly at first, and you keep winning against him..

His pride is on the line here, okay?

you win a match of TCG against his amazing deck? That's fine, he can always challenge you for another round

but when you keep on winning and winning, he gets more and more desperate with each passing round

okay, screw TCG. How about a beetle fight? He's sure to win this, no doubt about it!

...what do you mean he lost again?

he's heartbroken. Will fall to the ground in disbelief. Have the gods truly forsaken him now?

a little drama queen about it, but it wouldn't be the Itto you know and love if he wouldn't act like this

still, you do feel a bit bad about it. To the point where you decide to only do the bare minimum and let him win against you, so he'll cheer up again

when he does win, his spirit is back up again immediately, bloating about his superior victory for the rest of the day. Like, seriously, he won't shut up about it anymore

unless someone were to mention all his previous losses, then he's back to sulking again

however, the next day, all is forgiven and forgotten again

Cyno

one night, after dinner, he was talking about his new deck in TCG when you decided to ask him if he could teach you how to play

immediate sparkles in his eyes as he gets all excited and pulls out a new set of cards for you. He's been waiting for this day to come!

takes his time to explain the rules to you and helps you build your deck. If you ask him questions, he answeres them paitently

then comes the time for your first duel. Even though you are his partner and it's your first ever match, he doesn't plan to go easy on you. Well, maybe a bit, but he still will take this match very seriously

But when you end up winning against him, he's dumbfounded. How did you manage to do that?

He'd quietly mumble something about beginners luck, then challenges you to a rematch. This time, he plans to go all out

...and he looses again

now thourougly confused, he's looking at his cards like he might find the answer in them, while you are laughing your ass off. Your stomach hurts from all the laughing, but you can't calm down. Cyno's just so cute when he looks so shaken up

it's a mystery to him, how you could win against him, despite him having the better cards, the better deck and obviously having more expierence playing the game

in the end, he does swallow down his pride and congratulates you to your win, though he will work his deck over and challenge you again at a later point in time

Zhongli

as an adventurer, it is unavoidable that people get injured every now and then. It's just a risk that comes with the profession

and yet, Zhongli has never seen an injury on you more severe than a cut and maybe some darker bruises

don't get him wrong, he's glad that you're not getting hurt all the time. It's just that your stories and the results don't match up most of the time

"And get this. Then, a huge rockfall comes falling down in our direction! Can you imagine that?" "Darling, that's very serious. How did you manage to avoid that?" "I don't know. Guess I just got lucky. I only got hit my a small one on the head, but it wasn't even big enoug to give me a concussion, so all's good!"

"I almost fell down a cliff today!", "A group of Ruin hunters attacked us today!", "We got locked in a cave, but luckily, they were connected to other caves, so we got out no problem."

almost every other day, you come home with a similar story and every time, Zhongli questions just how much luck one single human can possess to come out mostly unharmed every single time

still, every time you set out for work, he can't help but worry about you. What if one day, your luck runs out on you? You reassure him that you're careful, but it does little to appease his mind when you come home with yet another tale to tell...

Kaveh

Kaveh isn't one for gambling, never has been and never will be. Though, he knows that you like to induldge from time to time, so when you invite him to come along with you, he agrees

and then he witnesses you winning each and every game you partake in. Doesn't matter how rigged the games might be, you make it look so simple

with a huge grin on your lips, your arms raise into the air as you declare your victory one again, and he's left dumbfounded

when he catches a quiet moment, he can't help but ask you about it

"I don't know. I just always had really good luck when it comes to those type of games.", would be your nonchalant explanaition

now he gets why you don't go out to play more often. You'd get banned from every single location if you were to do this regularely

Going home from a place like this with such a massive win.. he's too stunned to speak, but nonetheless very impressed and proud of you for it

will accompany you more often when you want to go out to gamble again, just to see your excited and joyful expression again

[waffledforbreakfast]

First Encounters - [MUTI! BLLK X F!READER]

Staring: Rin, Shidou, Sae, Niko, Kaiser, Ness, Otoya, Karasu, Reo

[ BLLK Scenario Masterlist ]

TW: heavy ooc (I MEAN HEAVY. forgive me, it gets a bit better later chapts i swear), bad grammar, bad spelling, bad formatting, etc.

 >Rin

Rin Itoshi was always overshadowed by his older brother, constantly being referred to as “Sae Itoshi’s lil bro”.

He’d be lying if he said it didn’t bother him

Even the girls at school were only interested in him for the fame

But you were “nOt LiKe ThE oThEr GiRlS 🤪🥺” (lord save me)

You’ve seen several of Rin’s games, including the most recent one. He wasn’t quite playing as well as he usually did, but this went relatively unnoticed by fans

After the game, you took a gamble and decided to approach the boy

“Hey… Rin Itoshi right? Great game!” she tried to optimistic and complement him

“...Huh?” He just stared 😭 “Who are you…??”

“We’re classmates…? I just wanted to say I really liked watching you play! That last move was amazing, I can see why you went down the left side instead of the right, with defense being so tight and all..” she was starting to regret talking to the dry boy and laughed awkwardly “Well… Good luck with your next game!” she bowed and left

Rin just kinda stood there ;v;

“Huh… someone actually was watching me…” Bro had the smallest smile on his face  

>Shidou

You and Sae were roommates, everything worked out pretty well between you two

In fact, half the time, he wasn’t even home. Like now, for instant, he was out on a business trip and wouldn’t be home for another day

So imagine your surprise when you were peacefully watching Chainsaw Man in the living room, and your front door flies open

In the doorway stood a tall tanned man with blonde hair and pink eyes

“SAE MY LOVEEEE~ IM HERE FOR YOU” The man practically chanted, you had no clue if he knew whether or not you were there 

He finally notices, and you two have a moment of awkwardnes

“... Wtf are you doing iN MY HOUSE???”

“WTF ARE YOU DOING IN SAE ITOSHI’S HOUSE??”

“WE’RE ROOMMATES?!?!”

“...Oh”

Mentally facepalming at this man’s stupidity- “Sae isn’t home right now, also how did you get in??”

Shidou just shrugged “There was a key under the doormat” he spun it around his finger

You looked this man up and down, tbh, if he was an intruder, there was no way you could take him “You’re Shidou Ryusei right? I remember you from one of Sae’s games…” you said, mentally recalling the guy scream about dopamine

“Yessirr~” he grinned “Best striker in the world right here!”

 You could do nothing but sigh as you reached for your popcorn and prepared to get back to watching, “the tan man will sort himself out…” you wished thought

His eyes shot to the screen as you resumed the show, “Are you watching Chainsaw Man?” he asked

“Yea…??”

“YOOO THAT’S MY FAV, LEMME JOIN IN”

And before you knew it, he was curled up beside you eating your popcorn as you two binged the night away

>Sae

Sae’s perfume had ran out recently, and he found himself strolling through the mall for a new one

You, on the other hand, were called in for a last minute shift in the store since your co-workers cancelled on you. So, here you were, sitting in your little store, all by yourself

That is, until a ashen-brown haired man walked in

The first thing Sae noticed is you. You in all your beauty, standing behind the desk, sifting through the perfumes

He wondered why you worked for a scent store and not a modeling agency. That was until he actually got closer. 

Your sweet smell embraced him, instantly feeling comfortable in the small store

“Hey, you sell perfumes, yea?” he asked, with a small tilt of his head

“Mhm! One for every occasion, how can I help you?” you replied with a warm smile

“An everyday sort of thing. Nothing too strong…”

You thought for a bit, then one particular scent came to mind, you shuffled through the store to get it “Here, try this one.” 

It was a simple one with a slightly stronger undertone. It was a bit on the pricey side, but seeing how he was dressed, you were sure he could afford it

He tried it out on his wrist, and b the look on his face, you could tell he liked it

“Hm. Quite nice, I think I’ll take it.” he handed you back the bottle with a nod “Actually, I’ll take two.”

You smiled, just happy to make some sales “Great! I’ll get that packed for you.”

You bagged the two perfumes and handed it to him with a bow “Thank you for your purchase! Please come again!”

Sae walked out the door feeling much lighter than before, “It must be the perfume…” he thought, but why was it that he wished to know your name… 

>Niko

He comes and asks you to join his soccer team (Niko 11)

You had heard about what happened in one of the other classes, a boy named Niko had challenged the soccer team to a duel in 100 days. From your knowledge, Niko was not one to put himself out there “hm. Those Yu-Gi-Oh cards must mean a lot to them…” you though “Surely I won’t get dragged into this��� right??”

Oh how wrong you were. You knew that he was recruiting teammates, and being one of the fastest people on the track and field team, it only made sense that he came to find you

Niko knew that you were pretty, but he didn’t know you were that pretty. Especially now that he was standing in front of you. “Uh- Hi….” he tired to keep his composure 

“...Hello, Niko, right? I have a feeling I know what you’re gonna ask…” You said, looking the boy up and down. His face was tinted with a bit of blush, it was clear the boy was not used to talking to people

“Y-Yea…” He muttered, he couldn’t tell if you were happy or not “So then- would you be willing to play on a soccer team with me?”

The way those teal eyes looked at yours, you just could not say no ;)

>Kaiser

Ness has been spending less time with him, and he’s wondering why. He soon finds out it’s you

“HUH?? What do you mean you’re ‘busy’ tomorrow??.” Kaiser demanded an answer from the poor boy.

“I-uhm… I’m going out with a friend…” the magenta boy gave him a weak smile “You should come with, I think you two would get along great!” 

Kaiser only rolled his eyes and scoffed “Your ‘friend’?? You mean the same one you’ve been texting for the past TWO WEEKS???”

Ness flinched “Y-Yea…” he looked up at kaiser “Is there a problem with that?”

Kaiser glared at him. Usually Ness would bow his head and spit out a thousand apologies. This new found “rebellion” was NOT supposed to happen. “It’s probably the doing of that ‘friend’ of his…” The blue haired boy thought

“Fine.” he looked Ness in his eyes “Let me meet them. Let’s see if they really are worthy of my prescance.”  

>Ness

He’s sent to a vending machine by Kaiser to fetch some food, but he forgot his wallet. Lucky, you’re a decent person :D 

“Ness.” Kaiser glared at the scared boy “Get me a drink. Anything but milk. Go.”

“I-Yessir!” Ness bowed before running off. Kaiser was in a bad mood, he didn’t want it to get any worse.

“A drink… where’s the vending machine…??” He looked around. And finally, he found one.

He leaned on the glass of the machine, catching his breath. “Hm. An energy drink maybe?? Or does he want some juice… no no, he had juice this morning. An energy drink it is.” he said to himself and reached for his wallet

“... oh sh1t-” 

Ness had been in such a rush that he forgot to bring money. He feel to his knees and let out a silent cry of despair

You, on the other hand, stood right behind him, trying to contain your laugh from the events unfolding in front of you. Unfortunately, you couldn’t stop a small chuckle from escaping, which you quickly tired coved

“Uh- Are you… alright??” you looked the boy up and down. He stared at you, eyes wide and mouth agape 

How could he embarrass himself in front of someone so pretty!! He covered his face with his hands, still on the floor.

You could only laugh “Forgot your wallet right? Here, let me pay” you felt kinda bad for the boy, but also slightly amused, which just made you feel worse.

You could practically see stars in his eyes. 

As you paid for the drink, he gave a grateful bow “Thank you so much, you saved me!” and before you knew it, he ran off

You could only shake your head and laugh at the interaction 

>Otoya

^Reader is assigned Otoya for secret Santa, and reluctantly gets him some gifts. He’s quite shocked when you get him things he actually likes

“Otoya” The teacher called, “Your Secret Santa gift.”

“Oh?” the boy took the gift from her hands. It was a gently wrapped box with a feeble attempt of a bow, which he could only laugh at. He noticed that the wrapping paper used was a green that was similar to the streak in his hair, and the ribbons to the rest. He had never seen such a carefully packaged gift. Even the ones he had gotten from his girlfriends exes were usually lame store bought ones.

That's why when opening the gift, he was so careful to not tear the paper.

As the teacher went around passing the other gifts around, Otoya opened his box and inspected the contents 

Inside he found 2 churros (his favourite), a set of headphones (he broke his a few days ago), a small phoenix (his favourite animal) figure, and a handwritten note.

He wondered who could know him this well, to have gotten him such personalized gifts. He deduced that it could only be his best bud, Karasu.

“Yo” Otoya approached the crow boy “thanks for the gift.”

Karasu could only stare “Gift? What gift? I didn’t get you anything… sorry”

Otoya showed him the box “These, did you not get them for me?” he was confused.

Karasu picked up the letter “Why don’t you try reading it? Maybe it’ll tell you who it is”

The white haired boy neatly tore open the note and read it.

“Hm. It’s nothing but a simple ‘Merry Christmas!’ and whatnot…” he muttered. Now he kinda wanted to know who it was from 

Karasu took the card and analyzed the handwriting “Oh. That’s their writing” the observer said and pointed at you, watching them from across the room

“Ungrateful brat…” you swore under your breath, of course Otoya thought it was from Karasu. But come on, you hated getting gifts for a fboy like him. You should’ve at least got some credit

you sighed and left the classroom, considering that you got a crappy candle as your Secret Santa gift, you were pretty frustrated

Otoya caught up to you outside the room “Hey, [Y/N] right? Thank you for the gift” he flashed the best smile he could manage

“Yea…” you muttered, still sad about your candle “Hope you like it… Least you didn’t get something lame like this…” you turned the saran wrapped gift in your hands “Actually, how do you know my name? I’ve always tried to avoid you…”

“Oh uh…” he laughed awkwardly “I was your Secret Santa…”

>Karasu

You take notes very interestingly, using a different font for every subject. He tries to decode one of your notes, you catch him in the act and teach him

You always had a silly habit of encrypting your notes. They were simple observations you made on your classmates, but if anyone read them, you might be in a bit of trouble…

“Nagi keeps looking at Isagi… But isn’t he with Reo??” you quickly noted, automatically translating into your encryption. It wasn’t anything too complicated, it was pretty easy to get used to, it was just for an extra layer of protection. Surely once someone saw it was encrypted, they’d just give up reading it… right??

Wrong :p 

Karasu had been watching you write these for quite a while, but couldn’t figure out the pattern. But he never had the chance to actually see one up close

And that’s why he took the chance after class while you were in the bathroom.

He quickly pulled out your notebook from your bag, and flipped it open. He sat on the desk and got to work, trying to figure out the code

“Could it be numerical… no- that wouldn’t work…” he muttered to himself, unaware of the figure standing behind him

To be honest, you found this quite amusing. The class analyzer struggling to decode your notes. You couldn’t help but let out a laugh.

The look of fear and shock on this mans face as he turned to face you, it only made you laugh harder

“LMAOOOO- having a hard time, Mr. Genius?” you teased 

Karasu could only frown “Shut it…”

You smiled, and decided that this was too funny of a story you could tell your friends later. It was only fair you taught him your encryption in return

You sat down on the desk beside him, and started pointing out the pattern

He seemed to finally get it, everything clicked together like a puzzle in his mind “Ohhh, I get it. That’s really dope.” 

You could only laugh “I know right?”

>Reo

He’s practicing his soccer at school, and you stop by and judge him. You then point out everything he’s doing wrong, and leave. Man is stunned XD

You were just grabbing a drink from the vending machine before you left the school campus to go to your soccer team’s practice. 

Being in such a prestigious school meant only academic extracurriculars were provided, you you had to play club

As you grabbed your drink from the slot, a sound caught your attention. “That’s definitely the sound of a soccer ball…” you thought to yourself, having heard that sound several times “Who from this school would play soccer??”

You walked towards the campus exit, which just so happened to be the same direction as the field. And there he was, a purple haired boy, practicing his shots on a make-shift goal. 

You recognize him as Reo Mikage, I mean, the whole school knew him. You decided to get a better view and move closer

Upon further observation, it was clear that he was new to the sport, you could help but feel a bit bad as you laughed

Reo turned to you the second he heard your tease. He frowned “What.”

You composed yourself “Sorry sorry, I was just… admiring your soccer… skills. Yes.” You said, sounding more unsure of yourself than he was of you

He scoffed, “Please, what do you know about soccer?”

“Enough to be a starter on a good team” you shrugged smugly “You on the other hand… You could work on your passing. The ball’s trajectory changes every time, try making contact with the ball on a more consistent spot, and put more speed in it. Also- when you dribble, make sure to at least be somewhat aware of the field in front of you. I could take that ball off you instantly.” you laughed and left, remembering you still had practice to go to.

Reo on the other hand, was left there stunned, “No way… Someone else here plays soccer!” He made a mental note to find you tomorrow, before packing up. 

A/N: I GENINUNESLY HAD 2 STROKES RE-READING THIS-

[powderblueblood]

HELLFIRE & ICE — eddie munson x f!oc as enemies to star-crossed lovers

CHAPTER THREE — EDDIE MUNSON COMMITS TREASON (BREAKS UP a CAT FIGHT)

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summary: you deal with the fallout of your fight at steve harrington's party... in the passenger seat of eddie munson's van. so much for pretending you didn't exist to one another, huh? content warnings: as always, MINORS FUCK OFF, because we have *deep breath* implied fantasy smut, lots of swearing, confused yearning, themes of threat, heavy snark, another mention of the drink tab which i feel like is/was gross word count: 7.2k

Dear Dio, Tommy Iommi, Gary Gygax, Pee-wee Herman, Ronnie Ecker — forgive me for what I’m about to do. 

I know I’ve done a lot of stupid shit in my life. Like the time I lit all my hair on fire and spent middle school with a buzz cut. Or the time I almost trapped myself in a spread eagle with my own handcuffs. Or the time I got my arm stuck in a wall for an entire afternoon when I was trying to rescue a feral cat. 

I’ve done a lot of stupid shit. But the stupidest among it all has got to be saving this girl from the bare knuckle wrath of Carol Whatsername. You know the one. 

Tonight, for whatever reason, this insane ex-rich chick has decided to teeter on the edge of a pool of boiling hot lava and for whatever reason, I feel like it’s my responsibility to yank her back.

Which sucks, because she’s a total bitch to me. 

Even if she just told everybody Tommy Hagan had crabs and has been cheating on his girlfriend in such a deranged way that it almost made me pop a semi. 

Anyway. Tell my guitar I love her. 

The world around Eddie slows to the tick of a football game replay as you let the last incendiary word you speak to Carol bounce around the goddamn Roman amphitheater Harrington’s back yard has become. 

This is insane. What he’s watching is insane. Like, he knew you and your dumb little court of Hawkinsites bickered back and forth, but you’re the last person he’d ever expect to air their dirty laundry like this. 

It’s incredible to watch the fascist leadership that he and the rest of the social nobodies have suffered under for so long rupture in real time. 

What’s even more incredible is how little hesitation there is on his part, shoving through the crowd when he sees Carol leaping for you. Eddie’s nearly jostled backwards by some slobbering roid heads— they’ve already called CAT FIGHT! and a crowd is clamoring. But Eddie’s got years of thankless equipment lugging behind him, giving him deceptively strong arms.

And thank god, because you are not an easy girl to hold onto. 

Carol lands a decent punch to your face, slamming with a dull knuckle-on-cheekbone crunch that makes all the onlookers, including him, go ooof! You stagger back in a state of shock (though, c’mon, you heard what you said just now, right?) and Eddie takes his shot just as you dive forward to retaliate.

He grabs you under the arms so you can’t like, elbow him in the fucking nose, a pale imitation of an illegal wresting move that Al Munson had forced him to learn at the tender age of seven. His dad had fancied himself a wrestling manager at the time— you can imagine how that worked out. 

But Jesus, can you ever squirm! Your body writhes against him—stop—hips bucking—don’t go there—as you try to get free. He doesn’t even think you realize who’s dragging you away from the screaming harpy, otherwise you’d probably turn your fury on him. 

He takes full advantage of the rage blackout and manhandles you through the party, earning a baffled look from Steve Harrington, who’s finally graced his own party with his presence. A pinch-faced Nancy Wheeler lingers behind him, but then again, Wheeler’s always all pinch-faced.

“What the fuck?!” Harrington breathes, exasperated. 

Eddie struggles against you struggling, just about dragging you over the front doorstep. Trust this guy to be upstairs in a domestic dispute, missing all the action while getting no action. 

Even in the chaos, Eddie will never pass up an opportunity to fuck with Harrington.

“You gotta start hidin’ your bath salts, man! Chicks are going crazy in there–Evil Dead type shit!” 

—

“You’re dead, Lacy! Monday morning, you are fucking dead!” Carol screams down the hallway. 

“It’s a date, bitch!” you screech, Munson’s nelson hold on you stronger than your thrashing. With a lot of work, he manages to haul you as far as Harrington’s front yard before you wriggle out of his grasp. You shove him, hard, all white hot and punch drunk and regular drunk on top of that. 

He yelps, high and frightened. You weren’t expecting a noise like that to come out of a surly-looking dude like him. 

So you do it again. 

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?!” you spit, and Munson flinches.

“Cutting you off!” he exclaims, this half-yell, half-laugh. It stings, the way he’s looking at you– like your anger isn’t anger, like it’s just amusing to him. 

“Well, who gave you the right? Who died and made you my parole officer, Munson?!” 

“Oh, I’m not– but I also didn’t feel like being woken up at home when the cops come looking for you after you go all Raging Bull on Carol. You haven’t been around the park long enough to hear ‘em, but those sirens really perforate the eardrums!”

Your jaw sets itself stiffly and you bind your arms over your chest. Unfuckingbelievable. “I would’ve, you know,” you breathe, seething, “Beat her up.” 

Munson’s dark eyes glide over you, like he’s checking you for concealed weapons or signs of a zombie bite— you avoid his gaze entirely, staring square into the middle distance. 

You promised that he didn’t exist to you, yet here he is. Driving you off the road. Breaking up your fights. Existing.

“Yeah, I know you woulda. You’re scary,” he says. You shrug, and he reaches to massage his shoulder. “And strong. Shit.” 

Your eyes flick over to him, but you don’t feel bad. You don’t feel bad because he’s grinning at you now and despite yourself, despite everything that’s transpired and the everything about him, you’re trying your hardest not to grin back. Adrenaline and vodka are still burning a hole in your chest. 

“Stay out of my way, then.”  

“Noted, but,” a couple of steps from Munson’s end closes some space between you. He’s peering at your face, right where Carol clocked you. A hand reaches out, angling your chin closer to the Harrington’s glaring porch light with his fingertips. You stiffen and squint, performatively wary, but you don’t stop him. You just let his eyes pan over you, looking anywhere but into them. “You might need a little first aid first. And a ride home.” 

“I was actually planning on carjacking Hagan,” you say coolly, the smile you were trying to beat away edging its way across your face. Munson releases your chin and the spot where his fingers were buzzes. It’s just the cold. It’s just your slutty librarian outfit, you tell yourself. You have to swallow in order to speak again. “Seems like fitting payback.”

“Jesus, sweetheart, what did I just say about cops?”

—

Eddie tolerates your eyes rolling back in your head when he props the passenger door open for you, helping you into the cluttered van with an outstretched had. 

See, I’m not the kind of asshole who doesn’t open doors for girls wearing stilts for shoes.

Those things were not made for clambering into a vehicle like this, sure, but they’re– nice. For what he knows about shoes, which is nothing. They make your legs look more… leggy, and for whatever reason this is making his brain soft. 

In your other hand is a cold can of High Life, which is the closest thing to an ice pack he could nab. That bruise blooming under your eye is going to be nasty, and he’s a little curious how you’re gonna look with it. You, with nary a hair out of place on a bad day, with a big ol’ purple shiner in a place that’s hard to hide.  

Gunning out of Harrington’s hood, a silence settles between Eddie and you. The radio hums in the background– a mainstream station for once. He thoughtfully figured that an aural assault by Sabbath would kinda rub salt in your wound. 

He’s thoughtful, but he’s not not nosy. So, of course he’s gonna ask– 

“That whole… verbal smackdown back there,” Munson starts after clearing his throat. “With Tommy H and everybody.”

On your end, the adrenaline has worn off and the numbing effects of the booze have amped up. You feel loose and warm, apart from the beer can cooling your bruise. There are twice as many streetlights streaming past you as usual. This is going to blow later– if you don’t blow chunks first. 

“All that about your dad pimping me out?” God, I mean, Hagan couldn’t compose a written sentence to save his life but maybe he had a future in speculative fiction. Did he just come up with that on the fly? “Take a wild guess, Munson.” 

Eddie recoils in his seat– gross. Gross. “Not the– the shit with Tina and Carol and–”

“Oh, the crabs? Yeaaaah, that’s true,” you slur, “But I rejected Tommy waaay before I knew that. Call it my brilliant instinct. And then he has the nerve to call me frigid, which– trust me, I’m anything… anything but.”

Munson seems a little surprised at this. You can see it in the way his eyebrows dart under his curly bangs. 

But you’ve had your share of disappointing experiences with the blandly acceptable boys in your circle– it’s par for the course, it’s part of advancing in the field. You can’t throw your cat into the street completely, but god forbid you be choosy about the boys you want to copulate with. The ones you’ve hooked up with, all unremarkable and perfunctory, always seemed so smug afterwards. Like they’d conquered something. 

But from Eddie’s purview, you always held yourself like you were above everyone else; not just the underclassmen and the social rejects, but even your own friends. He’d watch you sometimes, because it’s hard not to watch you. He’d wait for the few flickering moments you let your guard down, when you thought no one was paying attention as you sat at the lunch table or walked the hallways. So achingly unamused by the guffawing, the backslapping, the forced camaraderie of your forced high school persona and your forced high school friends. Then, one of them would say something like, Right, Lacy? and your brow would unarch and you’d be right back in the groove with the rest of them, giggling dumbly and glossing your lips. 

He always wondered how you did it, tolerated it. And why.

“Now, far be it from me to agree with a shithead like Hagan–and I don’t, before you get scary–but I kinda get where he’s picking that up,” Eddie winces, throwing a glance to you, glassy-eyed with your head against the window. You’re looking at him with narrowed eyes, eyeliner smudged. Even that look could cut down a man with twice his ego. “You’re a little bit frosty. Cold shock in the middle of a summer’s day– which, y’know, could be–”

You absolutely do not let him finish the thought.   

“It’s caaaalled being aloof, Munson,” you drawl, shuffling your shoulders against the passenger door and pulling a stray thread from your skirt with a sharp snap. “Playing hard to get, duh? Leave them wanting more? You wouldn’t get it because you’re so goddamn big and obvious all the time…”

“Obvious!” he brays, letting his jaw hang open with theatrical flair, “Obvious! Lacy, you wound me, I–”

“Obvious,” you bark back, “Obvious like a neon sign, obvious like a circus tent, obvious like– like– look at me, look at me, I’m a weirdo!” Your Munson impression, complete with devil horns, is a little dorkified but it shuts him right up. That loose little tongue of yours has trasmuted your mood from wrath to barbed silliness. “So obvious you wouldn’t know that kind of subtlety. Not if it hit you in the face.” 

A familiar tune whistles from the radio, distracting you. “… or cause you’re a virgin.”

“Okay—!“ Eddie starts, immediately assuming the position of point guard. His hackles are raised, but to be honest, he’s so willing to let you ramble on. It’s the first time he’s heard you talk this much, ever, save your little tête-à-tête by the lockers the other day. 

Eddie doesn’t want to stem the flow just yet. He’s not thinking about it too hard.

“Oh shit, do you hear that?” Like a Virgin pumps from the tinny speakers and you reach to turn it up, your head drunkenly bobbling on your neck. Eddie winces; it’s so weird, watching you like this. It’s like dream logic. It’s like opposite day. “Munson’s a virgin! I’m gonna touch him for the very first tiii-iime! Munson’s a vii-iir-gin—“

“First off, no I am not and no,” he audibly swallows, positive you didn’t realize what you just sang, “no, you are not, ‘cause— well.” He clears his throat. A flare of heat burns around his collar. “I’m not the type to bone and tell.”

“Bone and tell.” You guffaw, a sound so unbecoming yet so endearing coming from you, and slump back in your seat. That tight little skirt you’re wearing rides up about an inch and a half. “Sounds like something a virgin would say.”

Eddie huffs; no way around this. You’re fucking with him, and it’s the indefatiguable male ego that’s not going to let him let you win. 

He fucks, okay? Or has fucked, prior to this. 

Not that there’s anything wrong with not fucking. 

But he’s done it.  

Eddie’s eyes dart between you and the road, and you’ve got him like a stuck pig with that expectant glare. His eyes linger on your exposed upper legs for a half a second. 

Christ, you’re annoying. It occurs to him that wants to bite the soft flesh of your thigh and hear you squeal about it, but you are annoying as hell. 

“Fine. Fine. You wanna know?”

Your head lolls against the rough upholstery of the seat and you bat your lashes at him. “I really wanna know.” 

And Munson will tell you, you know, because you’re the kind of person people tell things to. 

“Nicole Summers.”

“Bullshit. Nicole Nicole? My Nicole?”

“Nicole Nicole. Nicole, formerly yours. The only-girl-meaner-than-you Nicole. It was tenth grade,” he snorts bitterly. “Most unforgettable thirty seconds of my life.”

“Nicole told us she got her v-card stamped by a board waxer in Maui.”

“I’ve got a lot of side gigs. You don’t know about me.”

You snort too, despite yourself. That’s a lot of despite-ing tonight, Lacy. You sit up in the seat a little, interest catching. Flame to a candle wick. 

“How was it?” you press. 

Munson furrows his brow, like duh. “Most unforgettable thirty seconds of my life, I just told you.” A beat. “Until— …Cass Finnigan.”

Now, an encounter like that is less surprising, but still you holler, “Bullshit!”

“I’d say the same shit if it hadn’t, y’know, happened to me,” he stage whispers, “In this van.”  

Your eyes widen, a flicker of a grimace sailing across your face. You wonder how he pulled that off, but all that comes to mind is the start of a bad porno– Cass meets him at that dingy little bench out back of the school to pick up and he’s, I don’t know, test driving some of his new supply and offers her a toke. She’s all, why the free samples, Munson? and he’s all, I only let the prettiest girls test the product. And because Cass is notoriously insecure–who among us, girl–she’s all, who, me? and he’s all, come back to my van, and she’s all, but I’m going steady with Mikey B, and he’s all, I won’t tell if you won’t and then he fucks her in the ass. 

Because Cass is saving the first hole for marriage and you know that. You’re the kind of person people tell things to. 

What you don’t expect is a weird pull of… envy. Why, in this imaginary scenario, had he never invited you back to his van? Well. You know why. But you’re drunk, so logic begone. “When did all this go down?”

“Uh, right before school got back,” Munson answers, kind of apprehensively. He could be lying, you figure.

“Well, Cass has been having a weird year,” you mumble, meaning to think that rather than say it. You know, because you’re the kind of person people tell things to.

“What’s that supposed to imply exactly?” Eddie says, an edge in his voice. He can’t help the way something in his chest flares; like he forgot to wait for the other shoe to drop with you, and now it’s dropping. 

“It stands to reason that she’d wanna, like, do something stupid,” you explain, and you know how it sounds. It’s mean. But honestly, you’re so drunk, and so past the point of attempting to spare people’s feelings.

“Like hook up with the local freak,” Eddie finishes for you, tone flat. You couldn’t not put him in his place, could you? Not that he thought Cass liked him or anything, he could feel her (literally feel her) going through the motions like a social experiment but– God, a little delusion doesn’t hurt now and again. 

“Exactly!” and even in your inebriated state, you can feel the tension in the air, hanging between you like a balloon full of noxious gas. Rather than cut it, you want to poke at it, unfeeling as to whether that’ll make it worse or better between you and the boy in the driver’s seat. You hike yourself up further, leaning toward him, pulling the can of High Life from your face. 

Munson’s profile is this beguiling mix of hurt and irritation, lit by the scuzzy orange hue of the passing streetlights. 

“What, did you want me to act impressed? Did you want me to lie to you?” 

“What? No– look, I know what girls like that– think of me, but,” Eddie’s voice shrinks in his throat, making him sound completely pre-pubescent. He notices you lean forward in his peripheral vision, like you have to strain to hear it, “that doesn’t make it any less shitty.” 

Oof. He did not need to unleash that little piss-shake of earnestness right now. He mentally steels himself for a ribbing from you, a cackling, piercing laugh like you let out before Carol punched you. 

“Of course it doesn’t!” you froth, “Just like it doesn’t make it any less shitty when guys act like they’re settling a bet with their buddies when they hook up with me.” You cross your arms to your chest with a quickness, slamming back into the seat. “Bet you couldn’t make it with Lacy, she’s got a combination lock on her pussy. Fuck you, dude.”

That coaxes a bark of a laugh from Munson, which makes you giggle a little in turn. It’s a weird feeling. It’s not quite relief; more like satisfaction. One point to Lacy, you made him laugh. 

“Combination lock, huh?”

“Allegedly.”

“Bet none of those losers even know how to crack a lock.” 

Your head tilts in his direction, forward this time. “And you do?”

Munson’s eyes flash at you, a dangerous orange glint sparkling in the darkness of his irises. “My criminal skillset is pretty diverse.”

He pins you down with this look from the driver’s seat and for a heartbeat or two, and you let him. Just long enough that a stab of sobriety sneaks in– and you can’t deny it, but you wish it didn’t. 

You’re drunk. 

If you can stay drunk, all bets are off. 

If you can stay drunk, whatever you do doesn’t matter, because you were drunk. 

You could reach over and press your fingers into the soft denim between his legs, make something hard there. You could squeeze the thickness of him over his zipper and kiss the shock of alabaster skin on his neck, where his pulse goes all jackrabbity under your touch. You could make him forget he ever heard the name Cass Finnigan. 

And it would mean nothing. 

And you wouldn’t have to justify it, because you were drunk. That’s what you’ve always been taught.

But you uncross your arms and you pull at the hem of your skirt and look to the road, just as the van swerves into the trailer park. Munson doesn’t take such a hard turn at the corner this time, probably wary of your risk of ralphing all over the van if he does. He pulls into that negative space between your trailer and his and instructs you to wait in your seat. 

“Trust me, the descent out of this baby is much trickier than it looks,” he assures you, jogging to the passenger door, a jingle of keys and pocket chains and belts on leather, “and you’re way too gone to make it in one piece, princess.”

So he holds his hand out again (“M’shitfacedlady,”) and gingerly you take it, and it becomes very apparent very quickly that your legs have turned to rubber on the drive home. 

“Oh, shit!” 

Your attempt at gracefully exiting the van is ruined by an unsteady ankle, sending your weight right into Eddie Munson’s chest. Luckily, he was braced for it– just about. “Told you you couldn’t make it without me,” he breathes as you clutch a handful of his Metallica shirt, vision quadrupling. He’s warm, and you suddenly realize that you’re freezing.

Trembling.

“Stop flirting with me,” you hiss to one out of the four Munsons in front of you. “I need to go to bed.”

Eddie forces himself to bite back another double entendre, which is a shame, because they’re doing an awesome job of covering up how goddamn nervous he suddenly is. He moves his arm to your waist, helping you haul ass to your front door. He’s got to keep one arm outstretched behind you in case you lose your balance again– which you almost do, a couple of times, wavering around like a dashboard Jesus. 

He watches you like he’s trying to commit this to memory, the rare case of you being so beyond your usual composure. He’s even got to intervene after the first five minutes, making unlocking your front door a two idiot job.

Eddie’s about to wave you off and disappear to scream and something else into his pillow when he sees you take a dangerous lunge into the darkness of the trailer. “Woah, girl–” 

But you recover, in a kind of brainless way, taking a measured Bambi-like step forward. One after the other. 

Fuck. He can’t leave you like this. 

You’re gonna trip and brain yourself on a Fabergé egg or whatever the fuck it is you and your mom have in there. 

“Uh– Lacy?” 

The trailer is eerily quiet. You feel like you’re trespassing in your own place. Boxes of out-of-place, too-expensive ephemera are still strewn everywhere, but you navigate the maze of them like it’s nothing. Sense memory. You don’t even entirely register that Munson is following you inside, that he’s frantically whispering after you, until you reach your bedroom door. 

A coldness shoots up your spine as you turn on him. You didn’t invite him in here, did you? 

“What do you think you’re doing?” you ask for the second time tonight. This time, it comes out a little fearful. 

Eddie picks this up, right where you’ve erroneously dropped it. His chest gets a little tight. You didn’t think he was trying to–? 

“Making sure you lie down in the recovery position, that’s all,” he throws his hands up in total surrender, Scout’s honor, all that shit. “I’m not tryin’ to pick any locks tonight. I swear.” 

“I don’t need your help, Munson,” but just as you twist the doorknob, you keel over through the door, hitting the floor like a lead balloon. 

“Yeah, you keep telling me that,” he blearily smirks down at you, “And yet.”

But Munson’s not such an asshole about it that he just leaves you there. He hauls you up, again, and you stagger towards your bed, flopping face down on top of the comforter. He says some variation of okay, well, that’s how you choke to death on your own vomit, Jimi Hendrix and bullies you into the recovery position. 

“Don’t freak out, I’m just–” and Munson sits gingerly on the edge of your bed, taking one of your high heeled feet in his hands. 

What the fuck, you mumble, either aloud or in your head. But he’s fiddling with the tiny buckle at your ankle, gently undoing it. Another chill runs through your body but you don’t move, not an iota. You just… let him do it. His hands on your aching feet aren’t a totally unwelcome touch. He’s being featherlight about it, almost afraid to touch you even though he had no problem sheepdogging you into bed. 

“You could do anything to me right now,” you hear yourself saying. “No one would even know. No one would even care, I bet.” 

It’s meant to sound like you’re goading him, or even flirting with him, but it comes out sounding pitiful. You cringe, your hands creeping up to cover your face. 

“I’d care.” Munson’s voice is a tiny mumble– you know he’s just defending himself, but it kind of sounds like something else. He slips your right shoe off and sets it on the floor next to your left one. He hesitates for a moment before getting off your bed. 

“Alright, well– we can forget this ever happened. Resume being assholes to each other on Monday. Don’t, like, die in the meantime.”

“You say resume like we ever stopped being assholes to each other.”

“Have a fun hangover, Lacy.” 

–

You do not have a fun hangover. You wake up late Saturday afternoon after Friday’s bacchanal and don’t emerge from your room save from the occasional bathroom trip to puke up what little dignity you’ve got left. Sunday morning is when your mom hammers on the door and drags you to the kitchenette after confirming that you’re still, y’know, alive. 

“This is your game face, hm?” she says, pulling at your chin to examine your violet bruise that seems to have developed its own heartbeat. She doesn’t hold your face the way Munson did, gentle and searching, just tugs into the sparse light streaming into the dingy kitchenette.

You attempt to steel your jaw, but your bottom lip is starting to waver. 

“What happened?” your mother asks, and beneath all the jagged broken glass, there’s a tiny sliver of tenderness. 

Call it your pride, but you don’t reach for it. 

“I went out,” you say tightly, “and I made a fool of us.”

She hacks up a scoff through her smoker’s cough and disappears into her bedroom, leaving you alone to pick at a cold waffle. The few moments of consciousness you’ve had since Friday night have been spent trying to piece the party together– you remember clearing the better part of a bottle of cheap, cheap, shitty vodka with Robin Buckley’s help (weird), you remember getting into it with Hagan and Carol and getting wailed on. You remember getting a ride home with Munson, but the finer details of that are fuzzy. 

You think, and this is a thought that turns your already 180’d stomach, you let him into your bedroom, but you can’t be one hundred percent sure. All you know for an absolute is that your shoes came off that night, and you would never bother to take your shoes off after a night like that. 

So somebody must have. 

Meanwhile, Eddie’s been having a hell of a meanwhile. 

Fact of the matter is that you managed to detonate a nuclear bomb at Harrington’s party just under an hour after your arrival, which has got to be some kind of world record. It was also a world record for how little product he’d managed to sell during one of those parties, because he was preventing the manslaughter of a teenage girl– could’ve been you, could’ve been Carol. He nearly wishes he let that fight play out, as he stares into his empty wallet. 

Eddie’s gotta busy himself somehow, gotta do something– weirdly, he’s not in the mood to make a whole lot of noise. It’s not such a terrible day for working on his van, so he slams his toolbox on the ground and gives a couple dozen casual glances toward your bedroom window.

Your blinds still aren’t fixed. That’s got to have been shitty when you woke up with a splitting vodka headache and a shiner the size of Canada. 

Eddie keeps finding excuses to pace back and forth in perfect view of your window. Not in a peeping Tom sort of way, but in a way where he’d kind of like to see any sign of life from you. Even if you just rose from your bed like Nosferatu and gave him the finger. Then, he could relax. 

“Ed,” a gruff voice comes from the makeshift trailer porch, “fuck’re you doin’.” 

Those dulcet tones would belong to his beloved Uncle Wayne, who, ever since his hours got cut at the plant, has become unbearably observant of Eddie’s every movement. Wayne’s not a neglectful kind of father figure, not like his blinders-wearing real dad is, so he actually gets concerned when Eddie’s acting out of sorts. 

“Engine,” Eddie mumbles, pivoting fast like a kid caught doing something he shouldn’t, “Engine’s making hinky noises.”

“Sounded alright last night,” Wayne levels him instantly, “when you came home.” 

“Didn’t mean to wake ya,” he twists an oily rag in his hands, avoiding Wayne’s stony stare. 

“I was up.” He crosses his arms, leaning against the doorframe. God, whenever Wayne susses him out, it’s like drip torture. He’s slow as molasses with the confrontation on purpose, making Eddie sweat and out himself on every little fuck up he’s ever made. “You go in there?”

Chin jerks towards your trailer. Eddie’s shoulders shrug towards his ears, head tilting back. “Wayne, it’s not– she was real drunk, like blotto, I just–”

“You steer clear of that one.” It’s the definite nature with which Wayne says it that makes Eddie’s stomach drop. No prelude to it, no I know, kid, you were just tryin’ to do right by her. Nothing. 

“Wayne–”

“She ain’t what you think she is. Not if she’s anything like her bloodline.” 

He says this like the realization hasn’t hit Eddie like Carol hit you on Friday fight night. 

He says this like people haven’t been saying the same thing about Eddie for years.

–

Monday morning comes and you’re still somewhat suffering. A headache nags at your temple, but you pin that down to anxiety rather than an extended play of your hangover. 

It occurs to you that you should dress as down as possible today– realistically, of course, as you’d never be caught dead in sweatpants. You need comfort, you need something that feels like a well-worn blanket so you opt for a deep burgundy sweater dress that actually belonged to your mom in the 60s. 

You’d found it in the back of her closet when searching for a belt you knew she’d stolen from you and pulled it out. Mom! you chirped, How cute! How come you never wear this?

Oh, God, she’d cringed, batting the garment out of her way as she passed you in a cloud of Shalimar, Just throw that ratty thing out for me, would you?

But you didn’t. You kept it tucked away in the back of your closet and took it out when you needed it. When you needed to bury your face in it. Substitute it for a comfort she refused to give you. Which you realize is terrifically sad, but so’s life. 

The warm red is a distant cousin in the color family to the bruise under your eye. That bruise, it’s a glaring reminder of what a fucking loser you’ve become. The old you, the real you would never have stooped to that level– never had let them drag her down like that. But now you’re the kind of girl that screams and starts fights at parties, you guess. 

Your rage feels ugly in the cold light of day. 

You’re locking the door of the trailer behind you just as Munson emerges from his humble abode and it’s nothing short of awkward. Like you’d both seen each other naked or something.

You both stand there, in your relative doorways. His mouth gapes like he’s about to say hi, say something, and a memory comes back to you. Cold shock in the middle of a summer’s day. No one likes that. No one wants that. 

Regret stabs at you.

“Can you see it from there?” It’s the only thing you can think of to say, because you’re sure as fuck not saying hi. 

“What?”

“The bruise. Can– can you see it from over there?” 

Munson sort of half-snorts. “Not from here–”

“Ugh, thank god.”

“--but this is like, over fifteen feet away.” 

You roll your eyes, which hurts a lot, thanks guy, and walk toward his van. 

“Now?” you say, waving a hand under your eye, right where you’ve applied and blended and applied and blended a criminal amount of concealer. Munson leaves about a foot of space between you, on purpose, and you crane your neck back, on purpose. Reinstating the forcefield between you. 

“Oh yeah, you can barely even see that you got your ass kicked.”

“It’s not even eight in the morning, Munson. Do you really want to start your day with a knee to the balls?”

“You’re right. That’s usually an after-dinner activity,” he grins and jerks his head toward the van. “Need a ride?”

Need a ride? Like it’s the most ordinary, everyday thing in the world, Eddie Munson offering you a ride to school in his deathtrap of a van. Your stomach pulls at the sense memory of being in there on Friday night, and what you’ll look like getting out of it in the parking lot of Hawkins High. 

“No,” you say, shaking your head, definite and resolute. “I’m walking.” 

He scoffs. “C’mon. It’s too late to start walking now. You’ll be late for first period.” 

You scoff back, imitating him. “So what?”

“You’re never late for first period.” 

“I can be late– how the hell do you know I’m never late for first period?” 

“Because, dummy, I’m always late for first period,” he tells you, yanking open the passenger door, “And I sit behind you in History, and you’re always there when I come in, leaning back with your nose in some dumb book and your stupid hair all over my desk.” 

It’s true– you are always reading in history, because Kaminsky can’t teach for shit and you’ve already read ahead on the coursework anyway. You liked to rub that in his face by pulling out some unprescribed literature during class. Plus, no one you really care about is in your class, so you don’t have to worry about getting made fun of for having your nose in some dumb book. Illiterate jocks would never try that shit with you– nobody there would. 

Until now. 

And it’s true that Eddie Munson sits behind you, and barrels in like an idiotic excuse for a hurricane with some idiotic excuse for being late that you always scoff at, because does he ever get tired of his own bullshit. But after that brief cameo appearance in your day, you really do forget about him. 

Until now. 

“So?” he says, all expectant. 

And you consider it for a second, you really do– but you don’t think you can handle the blowback of leaving a party with Eddie Munson on Friday then turning up with him on Monday. Going to the same class. Where he sits behind you. It’s just… overexposure. 

The same realization must hit him, because all of a sudden he’s slamming the door shut with a roll of his eyes. “Whatever. Your tardy slip, babe.” You can’t help but think he sounds a little wounded. 

But fuck it. Fuck it! Since when do you stand around feeling sorry for Eddie Munson? 

Before you know it, the van roars out and leaves you in the dust. 

You don’t make it to school until after second period, because that so-called bus route a fifteen minute walk from the trailer park must not even exist, so you forge a note from your mom in the parking lot. 

As your fountain pen hovers over the paper, brainstorming an excuse, you consider pulling out the big guns– say you had to attend visitation day at the penitentiary. Use this disaster to your advantage for once; but you pull back. Scribble something about a doctor’s appointment and dot your mother’s ‘i’s with eerie precision.  

You make quick work of dropping the note off in reception– the uptick of being the kid of the town’s gossip beacon is some people still feel sorry for you. Some people weirdly include Janice, Principal Higgins’ secretary, who snatches the note from you before you can even reach the actual receptionist’s desk. 

“I’ll file that for you, dear,” she says, all coo-cooey with an unwelcome hand on your shoulder, “How are you and your poor mother doing these days? And your,” her croaky voice drops to a whisper, “dad? How is… he being treated?”

You blink at her, gripping the fountain pen in your hand. “Do you know what a shiv is, Janice?”

Just then, the bell trills and you take your leave, stepping out into the linoleum. 

Someone calls your name from down the hall. You crane your neck to see Ronnie Ecker jogging toward you, paper in hand. 

Now look, you’ve never had a problem with Ronnie Ecker. You can’t say you’re particularly fond of her but she’s smart; she keeps to herself and she was a decent lab partner during your junior year of dissecting frogs together. Squeamish, but that’s why you were there, to handle the scalpel. As much of a social outcast as she is, she’s not nearly as odious as the rest of them. That’s pretty goddamn remarkable amongst the Hawkins student body. 

She is also, you’ve come to notice, a resident of Forest Hills trailer park. 

“Hey!” she says, “Um, I noticed you missed first period and Kaminsky was handing our papers back so I figured you’d want yours…” 

“Why is everyone so obsessed with me missing first period?”

“Huh?”

“No– nothing,” you huff, taking the paper from her. A solid B on A+ material– told you Kaminsky couldn’t teach for shit. He’d be hearing from you about this. “Thanks for this, Ronnie.”

You start down the hall but notice Ronnie’s keeping in step with you. “I also just wanted to say– I heard about what happened Friday. And I think it’s sick, you standing up to Hagan like that. Asshole needed to be put in his place.” 

Well, there’s only one person she could have heard the nitty gritty of that news from. You know she’s trying to flatter you, but all you feel is a flame of embarrassment, plus a touch of anger– even though the news has easily circulated the school hallways by now. 

Along with the rumors of you taking Hargrove, Buckley and Munson, and not in a fight. 

“Well. Y’know. I was pretty wasted,” you attempt to brush it off and you see Ronnie deflate a little. 

Like you’re not the blazing hero someone made you out to be. 

“Okay, but is it true you had a threesome with Billy Hargrove and Robin Buckley and Robin was wearing the Tigers mascot suit?”

“Oh, Jesus Christ.”

–

Classes pass in a monotonous blur, like most Mondays, but worse. That would be thanks to the extra shot of dread that’s served with your cafeteria meal of a wilted salad and soda. Last week at lunchtime, you at least had a tenuous standing with your former circle– you could still sit between Tina and Nancy Wheeler and suffer Tina’s thinly veiled jabs at you with a semi-placid look on your face. Nancy would look at you with eyes full of pity, and you’d want to punch her face in, but you’d be fine. 

But now, as you stand in the cafeteria swirling with people and catch the death glares from your old table (save for Nancy and Steve Harrington, who just straight up refuse to make eye contact with you), you’re just about ready to snap. 

Your flight instinct tells you to toss the tray out of your clammy hands and run, and keep running, until you disappear into the woods behind the school, never to be found. Your body becomes mulch before anyone remembers to look for you. Maybe you make really good fertilizer and a couple of pretty weeds sprout up from where you die. 

Your bruise, under its flaking layers of concealer, throbs twice– as if to say, don’t you fucking dare.

You make a confident beeline for the table, chin tilted and eyes set in a stare that could be categorized as withering, if only it was trained on anybody in particular. You grab a chair that some dumb underclassman is about to sit in and drag it with you, legs screeeeeching across the waxed floor. 

Who gives a shit who you were on Friday night. 

“I can sit here, right?” you say, and place your tray on the table next to Ronnie Ecker. 

She just stares at you for a hot second. That’s too long to stay standing in uncertainty, so you settle your stolen chair at the table and sit next to her. 

Ronnie isn’t the only one staring, however– the rest of these dorks, all in their matching t-shirts with Satan’s fiery head emblazoned across them, are watching you with their mouths agape. 

“Is this a prank or something?” one of them, a curly-haired freshman, says. 

This question is directed toward their fearless leader, decked out in denim and leather at the head of the table. That is to say, the direct opposite end of the table that you’re sitting at. 

“That’s no way to greet a lady, Gareth,” Munson says, feigning coolness but you can tell he’s a little flustered. The dead giveaway is in the way he misses his mac and cheese with his fork, the way his solid gaze double-blinks. You’ve thrown him off game– and because he’s impossible not to overhear sometimes, you know that game is all he’s got going on at this table. 

There’s that feeling again– point to Lacy. 

“To what do we owe the pleasure?”

This is Munson’s version of what the hell do you think you’re doing, but you choose to ignore him. It’ll drive him insane, and you know that, glaring red warning sign that he is. Instead, you flash a smile at the freshman that almost makes him pass out, Cupid’s arrow struck straight through the heart. 

You cross your legs and angle your body toward Ronnie– and by extension, in the direction of your old table. You can see Carol burying her face in Tommy’s shoulder, the both of them on the verge of losing bowel control with laughter. Laughter at you. 

Who gives a shit who you were before Friday night.

“So, Ronnie,” you say, taking a sip of your Tab, “You get up to anything fun this weekend?”

author's notes: let me get ahead of everything and say yes, i am absolutely fucking with the timeline. suspend your disbelief, my beautiful babies, and enjoy steve, carol, tommy and ronnie ecker still being in high school because I SURE WILL. but on an absolutely serious note, thank you so much for all the support and each and every note you’ve put on the chapters so far. i seriously, seriously appreciate it. now, the notes: - you think eddie munson doesn’t fuck with pee-wee herman heavy? you think he didn’t watch this movie in reefer rick’s, high out of his gourd, and think oh yeah i love this freak? get REAL! RIP paul reubens, this one’s for you. specially every time i mention a handjob - eddie munson also has charlie kelly disease - speaking of iterations of always sunny characters, much like frank reynolds, there’s not a get rich quick scheme al munson hasn’t tried. we’ll get into that a little more… later - admittedly, the whole ‘face eating on bath salts’ thing didn’t gain traction until the 00s, but if hawkins is going to be ahead of its time in anything, it’s fucked up shit happening to people! - did you notice how i blended eddie and lacy’s povs in the van? i’m going to continue doing that in moments where they’re on a similar ~wavelength~ - jimi hendrix did unfortunately die of asphixiation, but instead of thinking about that, watch this sick video of him playing guitar that eddie definitely has committed to memory - RONNIE ECKER KLAXON. i know that in flight of icarus she’s described as tall, but that hasn’t stopped me fancasting her as ayo edebiri in an eddie munson wig - at this point, you might be thinking damn, everyone sure seems to hate each other in this story. like, why is nancy wheeler catching strays? i’m here to remind you it’s the 1980s and teenagers kind of suck. play the track - thanks again for all the love! you can keep this crazy train going by liking, commenting, reblogging and generally showing me the same kindness you’ve shown me so far. love u my little hellcats

[camiimoraless]

𖥔 ࣪ 🕷️ 𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐊 + 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐓𝐄

⨳ pairing :: earth1610! miles x reader

⨳ synopsis :: dating miles morales <3

⨳ wc :: 6.4k words

⨳ includes :: google translated spanish 😭, love confession’s, lovey dovy stuff, mentions of injuries & blood, pet names, angst (?), comfort

⨳ notes :: not proofread, making this made me feel so giggly inside 🤭, this was gonna be left unfinished but it’s girlfriend’s day so happy girlfriends day <3

“ Just the same way you showed me (You showed) - If you could die and come back to life - Up for air from the swimming pool - You'd kneel down to the dry land - Kiss the Earth that birthed you - Gave you tools just to stay alive - And make it out when the sun is ruined - That's the same way you showed me, showed me - You showed me love ” — pink + white 𖦹 frank ocean.

IMAGINE dating miles morales, he’d be such a sweetheart. ‹𝟥 you feeling sad? don’t worry, he’ll get your favorite ice cream, pull up to your house, watch all the tv shows and movie you like with you. you got period cramps? he’ll help you. he’d have a period tracker on your phone and immediately run to the store to get things for you once the notification pops up.

and he’s such a giver ( > <)꜆꜄ anytime he goes to the mall with his mom, he’d buy some stuff for you that he think you’d like. necklaces, bracelets, new makeup products — he’d immediately buy. he would def get you two matching shoes.

he loves doing skincare with you ( ˘ ³˘)♡ everytime he’s over at your place and you’re doing your night routine, he’s joining you. and he does face masks with you (the hello kitty ones). loves taking pics of u two in them <3

he praises you 🙌🏽, doesn’t matter what you look like or what you’re wearing - he showers you in compliments;

“princesa, you’re so beautiful.”

“have I ever told you how gorgeous you are?”

“you’re so cute in my hoodie baby.”

he definitely texts you when he’s fighting villains or swinging around the city

you: milesssss can you help me study?

miles: yeaf im alomst done fughting

you: kk don’t get hurt tho !!

miles: i wonr

you: mhmm ttyl ⸜(*ˊᵕˋ*)⸝‬

when you first met his parents, you were so nervous. you felt like they were judging you—which they were but they opened up to you once you started hanging out over there more. rio definitely showed you his baby pictures and told you his whole childhood. you found it cute when miles got embarrassed.

he loves taking you on arcade dates, he has a photo album labeled ‘video game lover ❤️’ with all the pics from there. and you both have lots of pictures from the photo booth. when you two go to claw machines, you’d be the one who’s winning them for him. (🙌🏽)

(photo booth scenario (๑´ㅂ`๑)♡)

“baby, we’ve done the photo booth like a million times!” miles groaned as you dragged him to the photo booth, again. it’s not that he doesn’t mind taking pictures with you, it’s just you get over ten pictures in one day.

you rolled your eyes and kept walking towards the machine. “so? what’s wrong with having lots of photos of us? you have like a bunch of me.” you argued.

mumbling, he followed after you. he wasn't exactly looking forward to this. at the same time, he got to spend time with his girlfriend, so he couldn’t really complain. "fine, fine.. let's just get this over with."

“mhm.” you nod, you knew he couldn’t say no to you. as you arrived at the booth, without a word or protest, he slipped his arm around yours and started smiling for the camera.

he had to admit it felt nice having his arm around you, and that he wouldn't mind taking pictures with you all day if it meant he got to hold on to you.

for the first photo, you decided to kiss his cheek. he loved the way your soft lips felt against his cheek—and he loved the way your smile lit up your face as you leaned toward him.

you pulled back once the camera flashed for the first photo and smiled up at miles. "come on, why don't you kiss me for real in the next one?" he suggested with a wink.

you let out a laugh and snaked your arms around his neck, then glancing back at the count down on the screen. he leaned closer as well, wanting to be as close to you as possible. with the flash of the camera, you gave him a quick but passionate kiss on the lips.

once the kiss was over, you looked up at the screen admiring the photo you just took then seeing that you two had one more photo left. “ooh, we should make a heart!”

the next flash of the camera captured him leaning a little closer to you, so you could frame the photo of your two hands entwined in a sweet heart shape. miles couldn't wipe the happy smile off of his face when he saw the result.

you smiled too. “now let’s see them.” you both then waited patiently as the pictures printed out. after it finished, he excitedly picked it up, looking at the adorable photos of the two of you, you kissing his cheek, you two kissing, then making a heart shape with your hands. "you’re the other half of my heart, mi corazón.”

“oh god..”

(Angst part now ＼(*｀∧´)／)

every time he’s done fighting a villain, he immediately goes to your place and coming through the window and falling onto your floor, every single time. you don’t mind tending to his wounds but when the wounds get really bad, you get worried.

“miles, i’m worried for you. all these cuts and bruises are getting worse every day.” it was currently 2am and you were in your bathroom, bandaging miles’ cuts. he sat on top of the counter and you were in between his legs.

“well, you know, i can’t just stop doing what i do.” he says, his voice sounding strained from pain. “besides, it’s not that bad.. i’m fine.” miles looks up at you with a reassuring smile. you sighed and looked back down to continue tending to his cuts. “them cuts say otherwise.”

miles stays silent for a moment, biting his lip as you clean and bandage his wounds. “i’ll be alright,” he says again, his voice wavering as pain sets in. “don’t worry about me.”

“but i do miles,” you paused bandaging him and looked up into his eyes. “i worry for you a lot, and you should too.” miles looks away, not wanting you to see the tears forming in his eyes. “I’m fine. I don’t want you to worry, everything is alright…”

he tries to sound reassuring, but it only makes him feel worse. everything isn’t fine. you frowned and placed a hand on the side of cheek. “you don’t have to lie to me.. if everything isn’t fine then tell me please. don’t shut me out.”

miles can’t fight it any longer. the moment your hand touches his cheek, he starts to cry. “i’m scared,” he finally admits, his voice hitching as he tries to hold his tears in. his eyes are wide as tears stream down his face.

you then placed your other hand on his cheek and wiped his tears. “scared?”

miles nods. “i’m afraid i’m gonna die out there one day, and i won’t be able to say goodbye to you. i don’t want to die without at least telling you how much-” he stops himself, his voice breaking.

“how much what?” you asked. you’re trying to comfort him but he’s making you want to cry too. miles hesitates for a moment, but then he takes a deep breath and finally says it.“how much i love you… you’re the only one who knows my secret, and i’m so thankful you’re in my life.”

a wave of emotions wash over him, and he buries his face into your shoulder, sobbing. you closed your eyes, letting a few tears fall from them and wrapped your arms around miles. comforting him.

© camiimoraless 2023 ✦ please do not copy or steal my works !

[sage-green-matcha]

WE’RE NOT REALLY STRANGERS - ETHAN LANDRY 🃏

“Tell the other person to close their eyes and to keep them closed” Playing the “we’re not really stranger” card game with Ethan Landry!

Content includes: fluff! Card game, Softie! Ethan Landry, shy duo!

<3

<3

<3

You lay on the couch of Ethan’s apartment, sighing as you continued to add details to the Google slide. “You know y/n, it doesn’t have to be pretty, just copy and paste the information” you frowned. “I like it pretty, looks like we put more effort into it” You switched the background color to a deep blue, a smile on your face as it matched the other slides.

“I’m getting so bored of this” you mumbled, changing fonts and adding colors, copying and pasting pictures onto it. “How about we take a break? We’ve been working on this for the past hour” You looked down at him, a thankful expression on your face. “I was hoping you’d say that” You shut the laptop, Ethan sitting on the couch next to you.

“We better get a perfect A, we’re putting way too much unnecessary effort into this” The 20-slide Econ assignment was almost done, with only a couple of things left to add. “What do you wanna do?” He asked, chin resting on the side of the couch. You shrugged, looking around his apartment.

“Do you like card games?” You nodded, watching him as he went over to the game closet, pulling out a red box. “What’s that?” He placed the box on the coffee table, the box reading “We’re not really strangers” at the top. “Basically, it’s just a bunch of questions that we get to ask each other to get to know each other better, fits since like…we’ve only really hung out for projects like this” You nodded, agreeing. “Yeah, okay” you smiled, Ethan explaining the rules as he shuffled the cards.

“Okay, uhm I’ll ask first?” “Yea,” he pulled a card, reading it out loud to you. “What was your first impression of me?” You hummed, thinking back to the first time you’d met him. “I think…I thought you were cute, a bit awkward I guess. You seemed really smart so I’m glad I got partnered up with you” Ethan blushed at the compliment, thanking you before you pulled the next card.

“Who do you think is my favorite artist!?” Ethan knew you loved music, and he already knew the answer. “Taylor Swift…?” “Yea! I like how you know that” you bit back your lip, cuddling up to the shared blanket.

“Okay…do you think I like hot Cheetos?” Your eyes turned into lines, pointing at the empty bag of chips. “No Ethan, I think you love Cheetos” He rolled his eyes. “It’s a very solid chip, they’re good” he laughed, smiling at you. “Do you think…that I’ve ever been in love?” You watched as Ethan examined your face, eyes squinted. “I think…that no you haven’t, but other people have probably been in love with you” You turned your head, Ethan biting back his lip.

“What makes you say that?” He shrugged. “You Just have a very loving personality, it’s the first thing anyone picks up on” You blushed and he pulled out a different pile of cards. “Round two is…connection…what’s the biggest mistake you’ve made?” “That’s deep…” he nodded as you thought. “I think it’s probably…hm. Oh, I know. Not sticking up for myself in things that have impacted me, like a lot”

“Like what?” “Like…I was bullied a lot as a kid, I think that kinda messed with how I turned out” he frowned. He could never imagine people bullying you. You were so sweet and caring. “Okay…hmm what non-domestic animal describes you? And why?” You already had an answer in mind, Ethan thinking with his hand on his chin. “A cat?” You shook your head. “That is so wrong” “Really?” You nodded, “You give hamster energy” he looked at you confused. “Well…I guess that kinda does make sense” he was really random and quiet, but he was also smart.

“What’s the worst pain you’ve been in that wasn’t physical?” You felt comfortable with Ethan, so you decided to open up with your mental health issues, if he thought you were crazy then that would probably be the worst pain. “I think…when I was in this really dark place, it was a couple of summers ago but uhm. My mom was sick and I was just depressed…like suicidal” You played with the rings on your fingers, sinking yourself into the couch. “I’m sorry…are you okay now?” His heart hurt for you, looking at you with doughy eyes. “Yea! Definitely, being around people that I care about helps a lot” You smiled at him, trying to give him the indication that it was him you were talking about. “I’m glad”

“What would your younger self not believe about your life today?” You put down the card, snuggling closer to the blanket as the gears in Ethan's head turned, thinking for a minute. “Maybe the fact that I actually have friends?” He laughed and you smiled. “Really?” He nodded. “I never really had friends, I was always really quiet as a kid and- and like shy” he scratched the back of his neck.

“What’s your least favorite personality trait in a person?” “I really dislike pretentious people, like get over it. You’re not better than anyone” You shrugged and he nodded his head, agreeing. “Think of someone that you admire. What made you think of them specifically?” You were the first person that popped into mind, his face flushed as he began to speak.

“The person, they’re just so sweet and, like” he sighed, not able to put his feelings of admiration towards you into words. “They do their best at everything. They go above and beyond even when they don’t have to. It’s like they’re the perfect person and they have such a beautiful personality” he could rant to you about yourself forever.

You just smiled, nodding your head as he described this mystery person. He must have a crush on them, the way that he was going about it definitely showed signs, a small frown on your face. It was the last question of the connection round, going into reflection.

“If we were in a band…what would be our name?” He smiled. “Like, the Econ girls or something” “But I’m not even a girl!” You broke into a small fit of laughter. “I like Econ girls, that’s our band name” he nodded, excepting his fate as an Econ girl.

“What part of yourself do you see in me?” “Honestly, nothing…you’re too perfect” you scoffed. “I’m for real…I don’t think I could compare myself to you” he fiddled with his hands, avoiding eye contact. “Really? Okay, draw” he picked up the card, placing it on the table.

“When this game is over, what will be something you remember about me?” You pretended to think long and hard, already knowing the answer. “Everything, I liked getting to know you better” Ethan felt his heart pump out of his chest, trying to hold back a smile as you pulled the next card.

“What do I need to hear right now?” He chewed on the inside of his cheek, glancing at you and then at the pile of cards on the table. “That the person I thought of first was you” You could’ve screamed, and so could Ethan. His face was flushed as he waited for your response, your eyes just wide as you tried to calm yourself down.

He watched as you held back a smile, your attempt failing before you hid your face in your hands. “Another one?” You nodded, Ethan with a smile on his lips. “In one word, describe how you feel right now” The universe was working with him, all the cards playing out perfectly. “Happy..?” You questioned, nodding to yourself. “Yea, happy”

You pulled out one of the wild cards, pulling out the paper and pencils from inside the box. “Write a message to each other and give it to each other, open it once you have left” You tapped your pencil against the table. Tucking your hair behind your ear as you started to write.

Ethan watched you, attempting to sneak a peek but it didn’t work, trying to come up with what to say to you. The tension could be cut with a knife, smiles hidden as you wrote. “You done?” He questioned and you nodded, folding up the piece of paper.

“Look Into each other's eyes for 30 seconds. What did you notice?” You scooted closer toward him, your body nervous as you looked into his eyes. You always knew Ethan was pretty, but seeing him so close made you realize he was way more than just pretty. His eyes were a pretty brown color, creasing at the sides when he smiled.

His lips looked so soft, so pillowy. The perfect shade of pink. You started to even get a bit insecure about your own. Ethan on the other hand took the opportunity to examine you even more. He knew everything about your face, every detail, every mark. He felt his heart beat faster as you looked at his lips, looking back into his eyes with your lips agape.

The two of you got closer, Ethan’s light breaths on your face as he took your jaw into his hands, pulling you closer to him. Your body melted into him, your lips pressing against his without a warning. Heat filled your body, butterflies going crazy in your stomach. He tasted so good, so sweet. And the feeling of his lips on yours was addicting. His hand pushed to the back of your neck, pulling you closer to him if that was even possible.

He pulled away, taking in the sight of your puffy lips, your face flushed in a pink blush. “One more? For good luck?” You nodded and he read the card to himself, instructing you to close your eyes. Your eyebrows furrowed as you waited. 5 seconds, then 10, then 15.

You felt him kiss you again, confused but not mad about it. His hand was on your waist, pulling you on top of him. The feeling of his kiss was like hundreds of fireworks going off inside of you, euphoria filling your whole body. Just the feeling of his hands running across your skin made you shiver, pressing your hand against his chest.

You pulled away and he handed you the card, reading it out loud. “Tell the other person to close their eyes and to keep them closed…wait 15 seconds and kiss them” You shook your head at the card, Ethan pulling you into his side. “I liked that game” “I did too” Before you left you exchanged letters, opening it frantically in your car as you recalled the night's events.

Y/n, you’re the person that I was talking about, but I think you already know that. I'm happy I decided to play this game with you. You make me feel safe and I really like you…It’s easier to express my feelings in letters, but I hope I get to show or tell you in these next couple of rounds.

Yours, Ethan Landry <3

[kuroshitsuji-scenarios]

Commission – Bestseller

Requested by: Anonymous

Pairing: Sebastian Michaelis x Reader

Words: 4,363

Prompt: Sebastian makes a contract with someone who wants to become the world’s bestselling author. This time, however, he's willing to spice things up a little.

Warnings: None.

[ commission me ]

At first, you wanted to shout: “Go to hell!” but quickly found it quite ironic and eventually sat back down, picked your pen up and pretended to be writing something in the notebook, while the only thing that appeared on the blank pages were curly lines. Honestly, you could hardly recall the last time you met someone who’d be as eager to get on your nerves as the man who was now standing in front of you. The smirk on his lips only proved that the whole conversation you just had went according to his sly plan and in the end he was gratified with your outburst of emotions. Not a very common occurrence, he had to add, and therefore even more pleasant to observe.

“My, my”, he shook his head in a disappointed manner, as if he was scolding a child. “I wasn’t aware that this kind of information will have such an impact on you. Could it be that you’ve grown worried?”

“Worried?” You shot him a deathly glare. “I’m not worried. I’m angry and I’m starting to consider which side you are actually on. What made you think that killing (or whatever happened to that journalist) was such a bright idea?”

The demon smiled, the expression on his face clearly amused as the whole situation seemed to be rather entertaining for him. It’s been a long time since he actually gave his new contractor a little push—not to the right side, of course, but rather to watch you struggle and keep the balance as you always did in the end. It was almost as funny as listening to people beg for their lives, while all of them knew that there was no coming back once he was summoned.

“Sebastian,” you hissed his name through the gritted teeth. “Answer me.”

“Well, I must disagree with you on using the term ‘bright’ regarding this little incident.” He pretended to be lost in thoughts, touching his chin and looking at the wall of your office where all the prizes, photographs taken with famous people of literary business and newspaper articles were framed and hung on display for everyone to see what you were capable of when it came to using an imagination and pen. Or keyboard, as it was nowadays. “I’d rather go for ‘enticing’. ‘Compelling’, perhaps. ‘Thrilling’ even. ‘Enjo—”

“That’s enough.” You interrupted his speech, considering it pointless and a waste of your precious time. “I don’t care why you did that, I want you to stop. You’re perfectly aware that I’ve been giving interview after interview for the last two weeks and I’m going to continue doing that no matter what kind of dirty games you decide to play behind my back.”

“How threatening…”

“Moreover,” You pointed a finger at him. “If you keep doing this, I’ll have the right to consider it as acting against the rules of our contract.”

“There was not a single rule included which could prevent me from adding a little spice to the generally boring outcome of events. I thought you were aware of that. Signing books, doing interviews, all of that blown to make your ego grow until it pops.” Sebastian clicked his fingers to highlight the meaning of his words. “Like a bubble.”

“Hilarious.” You couldn’t frown no more even if you tried. “Now let's get back on topic. I forbid you to interrupt my hard work with your silly, little demon games. You’ll have your reward in the end so right now you’re only wasting your own time, because no matter what you do, I simply won’t give up. It can take the next forty years to complete while you’re stuck here with me, it doesn’t matter. So if you want to finish it quickly, I’d recommend you getting out of my way.”

There was a spark of amusement behind the demon’s eyes as he carefully observed you—as if something in your words struck him in a pleasant way. Undoubtedly, he made a good choice while deciding to answer this new contractor.

“That’s exactly what I meant while speaking about the lack of something enticing,” he admitted before turning on his heel and heading out of the office, his fingers intertwined behind his back and the corners of his lips turned upward in an eerie smile.

Pouring rain hitting the windows reminded you of a thousand fingers patting the glass in an unrhythmical manner. Focusing on a single droplet sliding down to the window frame didn’t help you concentrate, especially not with the pleasant silence now filling your bedroom up nor the fact that the last time you allowed yourself to rest was more than nineteen hours ago. Your body was giving you more significant signs of exhaustion with every passing minute and yet, you didn’t want to waste any of your time. Not when you’ve gotten to the perfect plot twist of your upcoming story—the second volume of the world’s bestseller book sold in millions of copies all around the globe. Although your success was guaranteed, you couldn’t simply sit and do nothing while waiting for applause. 

You jolted when the sudden thud hit the glass right next to the desk where you were sitting. It was loud, like a lost pigeon didn’t notice the window and flew into it at full speed but when you stood up to check whether it was hurt, laying somewhere near, it was impossible to notice any sharp shapes in the downpour. Perhaps it flew away or maybe it was just your brain tricking you into finally going to bed. Whatever it was, eventually it made you close the laptop and rub your tired eyes until you saw the stars behind the eyelids—and when you opened them again, you found out that the shadow in the corner of the bedroom is unusually dark compared to the rest. 

Almost as if there was a tall, slim figure standing there, facing the wall, covered in black robes.

Your initial reaction was paralyzing terror. Blood ran down from your face and in the next moment blew in your heart causing your cheeks to immediately heat. You could only sit there, watching the silhouette with unblinking eyes as your mind wanted to scream, to run, to fight, to—

“Sebastian.” The demon’s name left your lips almost involuntarily, just like shouting ‘help!’ came naturally to the drowning man. “I order you to stop this nonsense immediately.”

At first, nothing happened and for a moment you thought that maybe you weren’t even in your bedroom anymore, that the image in front of you was but a photograph glued to your face while the real you was dead, burning and bleeding and shrieking and—

“My, my…” You blinked at the sound of a familiar voice and the shadow from the corner was gone; surprisingly, you could also breathe freely again. “There’s no fun with you…”

Instead of the terrifying derealization, you were once again safe in your bedroom, everything in its own place. By the door, however, stood Sebastian with the same amused smirk on his handsome face, as if it was the only genuine emotion he was actually capable of showing.

“Fun?” You stood up from the chair, your fingers still slightly trembling after the heavy anxiety attack.

“I was worried that you might get some kind of… writer’s block, as they say,” he stated and nodded matter-of-factly. “I couldn’t bear the thought of you losing your spirit.”

Oh, how much you wanted to rip that happy expression off his face. Or maybe slap him. Or both. In all honesty, you could do it by giving him a simple order and yet, it didn’t feel right. What kind of satisfaction would you get from simply forcing him into your own will instead of actually making him feel a certain way? The leash you got him on was rather long, as the demon was almost free to roam around and do as he pleases, and maybe that was why you found those rare moments of his confusion so precious. 

And so, instead of scolding him or making him apologize, you simply decided to say:

“If you’re getting so bored during our contract, perhaps you’d enjoy it if we played fetch for a while? I have a feeling that it might be just your cup of tea.”

He didn’t say anything and yet, you could feel his disapproving stare burning into your back as you walked to the wardrobe. Surprisingly though, the memory of the silhouette in the dark corner still seemed to linger in your memory, although not as a bad one. Instead, you couldn’t help but wonder if it wasn’t just what you were looking for to fill the plot in the next chapter of your book.

“I can’t believe it…” you muttered, raising the menu card higher in front of your face to hide it from the not-so-subtle photographer who was waiting for his perfect shot outside the café. So far, you managed to run inside the building without being filmed and you could call it quite a success considering how tense the situation grew since the latest news got released to the public.

“The greatest author of the decade caught in love!” 

“Who is the mysterious man by her side?”

“Can we expect the next volume to be delayed due to the newfound romance?”

The headlines of newspapers and celebrity gossip websites were screaming at you from every angle—so much that you started to wonder if there would be a journalist jumping out of your own fridge to ask a few questions before lunch. Since the rumor about your romance—yours and Sebastian’s—were fairly new, you still didn’t manage to calm the public with some words of truth and a little sneak peek into your personal love life. Not that it was your intention, it was all but a play, of course. Another necessary step taken to avoid getting accused of the disappearance you certainly had nothing to do with.

Which you couldn’t say about the demon sitting right next to you by the table.

“Me neither,” Sebastian clicked his tongue, while still eyeing the menu. “The prices have surely gone up since the last time I’ve been there. Not that it’s an issue with your budget now, is it?”

If you didn’t know better, you might have believed that the kind smile he put on was sincere. Still, with the amount of knowledge you possessed and the time you wasted on trying to clean up after his mischief, you wanted nothing but to make him regret everything he’s ever said or done. He was the one to put you into this situation, after all. Like a single puppy left home alone, Sebastian went first for your new slippers, then the table leg and now he was chewing on your precious sofa—the couch meaning your privacy and relative peace of mind.

“Don’t give me that look.” He placed the menu back on the polished wood. “It wasn’t me who said that we were dating.”

“You forced me to do this! How else could I get a reliable alibi that I didn’t, in fact, murder anyone and especially not my own best friend?”

“I’m certain there was a lot of different ways to prove that.” He waved at the waiter. “Did you pick your order yet?”

“I’m not hungry.” You whispered something about going to the toilet when the waiter approached you two and only came back when he was gone, now your favorite beverage waiting for you at the table and Sebastian slowly sipping his tea.

“Besides,” he continued after you sat back down, moving your chair so your back was facing the window. “This outcome isn’t so bad, as you can see. You’re now even more famous than before.”

“I didn’t want to be some stupid celebrity and have people wonder what kind of bikini I wear and whether I have cellulite or not—I wanted to be known for my hard work. It’s something completely different than being stalked for having a guy like you nearby.”

“A guy like me?” He raised his slim eyebrow. “I doubt that would make it to the first pages.”

“I don’t care. I need to figure it all out and you’re going to help me whether you like it or not.”

“How overbearing.” Sebastian chuckled. “Enlighten me then, how do you plan on making it right?”

That’s where he got you. You still didn’t have any solid plan to retrieve your freedom and intimacy back and with all this chaos happening around you, with the demon constantly scheming against you behind your back, you felt quite overwhelmed. 

“That’s exactly what I thought.” He took a sip of his tea and placed the teacup back on the saucer. “And I suppose I have a perfect solution for this problem.”

“Meaning?” You wondered, hoping that this time you would finally hear some more useful news than another joke or allusion.

Instead of answering, Sebastian gently reached to you and placed his warm hand upon your cheek, caressing your lips with the featherlike touches of his thumb. His gaze was focused on you, slowly trailing from your eyes, through the curve of the nose down the mouth and back up again. He smiled at you but this time there was no insincerity behind it but rather pure fascination. Amazement, even, and one could say that also adoration.

It’s been a long time since Sebastian took a look at your soul, after all. Although he was present in your life almost everyday, it was quite rare for you to open up to him—you weren’t the type to cry your eyes out on his shoulder nor beg him for love. On the contrary. And for some odd reason he found it the most amusing—your soul, your price waiting to be paid hidden from his gaze, except for those tiny moments like this one when he was finally capable of looking you in the eyes and almost tasting your spirit at the tip of his tongue.

The sensation made him shiver with anticipation.

Eventually, Sebastian leaned forward and after not witnessing any kind of resistance from you, placed a soft, sweet kiss upon your lips. His own were still warm from the temperature of the tea he drank, tasting like herbs and honey, and his smell overwhelming your senses when you gave up to this gentle affection and closed your eyes to savor it. For the first time in months your heart started to beat faster but not because of stress or fear but rather excitement—something so trivial, you wouldn’t expect yourself of.

Sebastian kissed you slowly, barely nibbling at your lips and not taking any step further. His fingers left your cheek with an unpleasant coldness and rested at the crook of your neck, slightly pulling you closer but not strong enough to make you feel caged. Involuntarily you leaned toward him also, supported by the elbows on the wooden table and not paying attention to the fact that you have just most likely exposed yourself to all the people passing by the café. If the creepy paparazzi was still there, he had a once in a lifetime opportunity to immortalize the first official kiss of yours with your mysterious company.

And somehow, you thought it was alright. If you wanted your alibi to be solid, you should prove to everyone that Sebastian was, indeed, your husband and the mysterious disappearances had nothing to do with you. 

Repeat a lie often enough and it becomes the truth.

Initially, Sebastian was like some kind of hideous decoration standing in the middle of the living room—painted in vivid colors, with weird, eye-catching shape and not fitting to any particular home decoration style. You could place an elephant there as well and the overall effect it had on the guests would be quite similar. He was an interruption, a sudden chance of weather, an anomaly in your life, the one you called for yourself and although you considered him to be a hassle most of the time, as months passed you found yourself paying less and less attention to the abstract puzzle at the center of the jigsaw. It wasn’t that he was becoming less visible or having less impact on your everyday life—on the contrary, Sebastian’s actions were as ostentatious as always, it was just you who started to tolerate and maybe even like the strange addition to your new life.

Indeed, one could even accuse you of enjoying his company too much, especially when you were sharing a bed, tangled in the bedding and droplets of sweat glistening on your temple. His fingers were delicate and movements calculated to bring you nothing but pleasure when he was caressing and massaging your naked body. In those moments, you found him beautiful. With a warm gaze, perfectly cut lips, strong jaw and slim silhouette he could stand on the same pedestal as countless of Greek sculptures stood. Right now, however, he was not cold as marble but rather soft and attentive, all the previous flirts replaced by what could be described as nothing but endless love and adoration.

Fortunately, you knew better than to trust the perfect mask he chose just for you. It didn’t stop you from indulging into the pleasure, though, for how could you deny yourself a spark of joy when in the end it was supposed to be him to devour your whole existence and turn you into nothing? It would be a shame to not take everything this man, this demon, had to offer.

You were walking down the shore, the view of setting sun rays dancing over the nearby buildings making it seem like the whole world has somehow turned into molten gold. Yellows and oranges painted your surroundings into the real piece of art, something you weren’t sure anyone could ever capture on the canvas with mere brushes. The town you decided to stay in (small and rather unknown, free from the crowds of tourists) had everything you could possibly need for an effective rest and refreshing inspiration—restaurants by the sea, both museums and clubs, promenade near the beach and a whole street of various shops. It was truly something new, the change of scenery making it easier to breathe and prepare for the upcoming premiere of a brand new video game based on your story alone.

You could say a lot of things about Sebastian and how he managed to get on your nerves like nobody else, but you had to admit that there wasn’t a single slip in his plan to make your biggest dream come true. Everything he promised you was truly happening, step by step, one at a time, but eventually you could clearly see the results. As much as you loved it, you couldn’t not notice how it was all leading to the end of your own story also.

“Lost in thoughts?” Sebastian asked, his long fingers intertwined with yours as you slowly passed by the sailboats docked to the pier. “Were you thinking about the grand premiere?”

“I thought I had nothing to worry about in this regard.” You peeked at him from under your sunglasses. “Was I mistaken?”

“No, not in the slightest. I assure you I took care of everything.”

“So it’ll be an indisputable success?” You insisted.

“Are you doubting your own skills all of a sudden?”

For the first time you left him without an answer. Perhaps it was the matter of the different surroundings or maybe it was the setting sun that brought this mood to you, but watching as it slowly drowned in the endless ocean you wondered how it will feel to have your soul sucked out of you. Will it hurt? Will you be scared? Or maybe you won’t notice it at all? Was it up to Sebastian to decide on how he will take it?

Your dreams were coming true, the very thing you craved for such a long period of time was finally yours, kept in your hands and there was no obstacle nor foe that could take that away from you, so why were you getting nostalgic all of a sudden?

“Should I take it as a ‘yes’?” Sebastian’s voice brought you back to reality but he didn’t give you enough time to answer. “My, my, I didn’t take you for an insecure type.”

“You shouldn’t worry your pretty, little head about things you won’t understand. Emotions are not your strong point, if I remember correctly?”

He chuckled but admitted you were right.

The oranges turned into burning red, making it seem as if the horizon was on fire. Behind your back, the sky was slowly fading from all its colors, leaving the thick stripes of pale pink, purple and navy blue at the east. You could spot a few stars shyly appearing there.

“I merely did what you ordered me to,” Sebastian continued and to your surprise, added further:. “I cannot say whether you would be able to achieve it with or without my intervention.”

“What do you mean?” You frowned.

“I’m speaking about the ‘right place and right time’ occurrence. Surely you know that your work is good as it is, don’t you?”

You stopped and looked at him confused, not really understanding where he was going with all this dialogue and unexpected confession. Pulling him slightly by the hand, you forced him to stop also.

“Explain yourself. Or should I get worried about you having a sun stroke?”

The demon tilted his head and you thought that he was going to kiss you again, just to make you forget about all those questions and doubts. Nevertheless, he knew that you were smart and wouldn’t simply be silenced by some sweet nothings.

“What do you think I did to make all your books bestsellers?”

You shrugged. It could be some kind of his hellish magic or personal charm which allowed him to get whatever he wanted wherever he got. Quite difficult to tell for an ordinary human, since he never bragged about his methods and you never cared enough to ask.

“I’m aware that you’re not familiar with my ways of working,” he admitted. “However, influencing a group of people can be rather troublesome, not to mention when the target group is reaching almost the whole world. Simply put, it would cost me a lot of time and energy to force them all into purchasing your precious books, leaving flattering reviews and recommending further and so, I decided to wait instead.”

“For the ‘right place and time’?” you quoted him.

“Exactly.” He gently pulled you after him so you could continue the afternoon stroll in the sunset. “I was waiting and observing the people involved until finally the perfect opportunity struck. That’s when I whispered a word or two to those who were in charge of certain matters, sneaked a copy of your manuscript et voilà! It doesn’t change the fact that the one who created and wrote those stories was you.”

The sounds of small waves swinging in the shore filled your brain with peaceful, rhythmical melody when you were analyzing Sebastian’s words over and over again. You were walking mindlessly by his side now, too lost in thoughts to notice that the circle of light finally hid behind the horizon and left the whole palette of colors above your head. The salty smell of the water was reaching your nose and you could hear people chatting and laughing somewhere in the distance—there was also music playing in one of the gardens of a nearby restaurant.

It was such a peaceful scenery, it completely didn’t match the chaos in your mind.

“Are you…” You cleared your throat, finding it difficult to form your thoughts into sentences. “Are you saying that I could have achieved all of that without your help?”

Sebastian smiled at you with such an adoration that it made your blood run cold.

“And you knew it from the very beginning? From the day we met?” You insisted, feeling as his silence started to fuel the spark of anger inside your heart.

“No, I cannot predict the future. All I did was calculate the turn of events and pick the best moment to strike. If it turned out that your books were a complete failure, then I’d have to intervene in a different way but fortunately, they were not. I suppose I can share this little secret of mine now that you almost reached your final goal.”

Your fingers were suddenly cold against his, the fresh breeze caressing the heated skin on your cheeks when you turned to the side and looked at the endless sea. You wondered if perhaps it was better to not know the truth and die clueless.

The smile which appeared on your lips was rather surprising to Sebastian and maybe it surprised even you. Whatever his intentions were, he wasn’t expecting you to react positively to this kind of news—you could cry and wail, cursing him for using you for his own gain, you could argue with him, accuse him of breaking the rules of the contract or tricking you into believing that you were completely hopeless without him, you could do anything! And yet, you simply smiled and then let out a happy chuckle.

Then, without a warning, you were the one to pull him to the side and head toward the restaurant where you could hear the music playing.

“Are you not going to respond in any way?” Sebastian frowned and you could clearly see that it was the first time in many centuries that someone managed to puzzle him.

You looked at him over your shoulder and pushed the sunglasses up your head to meet his stare. Then you laughed at his confused expression, so different from the everpresent smugness and confidence, and you swore that whatever was going to happen, it was worth living all those years, even if just for witnessing him making this face at how far he still was from understanding human nature.

“Well, what can I say?” You shrugged. “I told you I’m the best writer in the world.”

[ commission me ]

[sailorshadzter]

hi i still exist. :)

The music that plays is soft and slow, a song she recalls from weddings past, a staple from each and every Northern wedding she’s attended throughout her life. 

And yet somehow, someway, this time it feels different. 

Perhaps it’s the three glasses of wine she’s consumed or perhaps it’s the fact that she’s not been home in something like three years.

 There was nothing left for her here, after all. 

She looks up as the song ends, the crowd applauding as the band takes a moment to pause, to drink a gulp of water before they return to their places, the next song falling from their instrument strings. 

“Can I have this dance?”

The voice draws her out of her own mind, catching her off guard. She looks up and to her surprise, she knows the face grinning down at her, though it’s been something like a lifetime since they last spoke, let alone saw each other. “Jon,” she greets, smiling in spite of herself, red painted lips curving around the familiar syllable of his name. “It’s been a while,” she says, not answering his question; that question treads dangerous waters. Of all the people she expects to see at this thing, Jon isn’t one of them, and she suspects her best friend is to blame. 

“I know,” he replies, extending his hand for her to take.

It takes but a moment or two more before she relents, slipping her hand into his and allowing him to pull her onto her feet. Together they make their way out to the center of the dance floor, to where the dozen or so other couples already dance, the bride and groom included, as a popular mainstream love song plays by the band’s hands. “I’m surprised to see you,” she admits as they fall into step, the dance as familiar today as it was all those years ago.

“Me too,” he admits with a laugh, so soft and slow, for a moment she thinks she might drown in the sound of it. “I was surprised when the invite arrived.” She glances at the bride, her best friend, Margaery, and she reminds herself to have a conversation with her at a later date. “I decided I couldn’t turn down the chance to see a wedding like this one with my own eyes.” She’s laughing now and he’s tightening his grip on her waist. “I didn’t think you would come,” he says next, softer now, his gray eyes somber when they meet hers. 

What he means is I thought you would never return North after what happened here. The truth was, neither did she, but… Margaery had always been her friend, her best friend, and even when she’d been the one to fade away, Margaery had never lost sight of her. “I’m sorry…” he says next, his voice close to her ear, drawing her back in. “I shouldn’t have…” 

“It’s okay,” she says with a shake of her head, offering him a smile. “I couldn’t say no to her,” she says, glancing towards her smiling friend, drunk off happiness and wine as she dances with her husband. “Even if I had, I imagine she’d have brought me here against my will.” He’s the one laughing now and as the song ends, he does not let go of her hand. “Dancing is a dangerous game,” she says softly, tilting her head as blue eyes meet gray. 

Jon only grins, drawing her back in for a second dance. 

[ x x x ]

That night, she twists beneath the bedsheets of the hotel room bed he’d rented for the weekend.

She revels in the way he utters her name, in the feel of his hands threading through her hair, in the way he moves between her thighs. “Sansa,” he rasps, his breath warm against the hollow of her throat, a reminder of the warm bed she left behind all those years ago. When he pulls back, she finds herself drowning in those smoldering gray eyes, eyes still yet full of the stars she’s dreamed of since their last moments together. For three long years, she’s slept with other men, dated and partied, but every night she always found herself longing for something, for someone, she no longer had. 

It isn’t until he’s leaning in, kissing the salt from her lashes does she realize she’s begun to cry. 

[ x x x ]

When the morning sunlight spills in through the hotel curtains, she carefully slips from his arms and the bed. 

Tiptoeing across the room, she fishes her dress up off the floor, shimmying into it only to remember she can’t zip it up the back on her own. “Fuck,” she utters with a sigh, arm stretching at every awkward angle in an attempt to try anyway. As another curse is about to fall from her lips, she feels the brush of hands against her own and can feel the zipper make its ascent to the top, securing her back into the dress he’d nearly ripped from her body the night before. “Thanks,” she mumbles, swinging back around to face Jon where he stands in just his boxers, his hand lingering as if he means to touch her further. But, he must think on it, for it drops back to his side, tightening into a fist she does not notice. “I should go…” She turns away, thinking this would be it, this would be the last time… 

“Do you have to?” He asks, unable to stop himself. 

She stops, slowly revolving back to face him, those stoic features softening as gray eyes meet blue. “My train home… It’s not until Monday.” She admits quietly, thinking of the room in Margaery’s parents home she’s meant to occupy until then. 

“Let’s have lunch then.” He says with a grin and she’s laughing in spite of herself. 

“In this?” She asks, gesturing down at her slinky golden gown she’d worn to the wedding, wrinkled now from laying in a heap on the floor all night. 

“Sure,” he says, reaching for his own discarded dress pants, far more wrinkled than her dress. “We’ll go somewhere to match the wardrobe,” he shrugs on his white button down, allowing her to reach out and adjust his collar when he’s gotten it buttoned up. “You know the place.” 

Of course she did. 

“Fine, but then you must take me to get my bag,” she says as she steps back into her heels, kicked off the night before as he tackled her into his bed. 

“Does that mean you intend to stay?” He asks and she blinks, her heart skipping a beat. 

“Only if you want me to.” 

Jon grins, nodding, reaching out to take her by the hand. 

[ x x x ]

Her phone hasn’t stopped buzzing since they left the restaurant.

Between the old ladies who had spotted them having lunch and Margaery’s parents telling her that she’d come by to collect her overnight bag, she and Jon didn’t have much of a chance to hide they’d been together, even if they had intended to do so. But the hours of the day are spent whittled away by wine and talk, by sex and joy, so it isn’t until well past midnight that she finally slips away from him, to step out onto the balcony in just his t-shirt, to pick up her phone and dial the number that has relentlessly called and texted all day long. 

“Finally!” Margaery’s voice explodes in her ear after the first ring.

“No one would believe today was your first day of being married, considering you spent the entirety of the day calling me.” Sansa quips and her friend laughs on the other end and she can practically hear the smile in Margaery’s breathing. 

“And you spent the entirety of the day doing… Jon Snow?” 

Sansa laughs in response and Margaery shrieks, much like they were teenagers once more. “I knew it! That old Mrs. Hightower said you two left together last night but I didn’t believe her… Until mother called that is. How was it?” Sansa can picture her friend as she must have been right then, with that twisted smile she only ever wore when it came to talking about Jon Snow. 

“I’m not going home.” She says without missing a beat, without an ounce of hesitation.

Even that shut up Margaery.

“You’re… Not…?” She asks when she’s recovered her senses a moment later. “It must be good.” 

Sansa turns around, back to the balcony edge, staring in through the glass door to where she can see Jon still asleep in the bed. Her heart skips a beat and she knows it goes against everything she’s told herself over the last few years. It goes against everything she’s tried to do for herself, against the new life she’s tried so desperately to build. “No… Not right away, anyways.” For some reason, now that she’s come back to this place, to this person, she can only wonder how she ever left at all. “I have to go, I’ll call you tomorrow.” She hangs up before Margaery can answer and returns inside, slipping back into her place beside him in the bed.

He lets out a long, sleepy breath as he turns over, arm extending out over her hips. “I wondered where you’d gone…” He breathes into her ear, teeth sinking into the soft flesh of her earlobe as one wandering hand slides up beneath the hem of his shirt she wears. 

“Can I stay?” She asks quietly, thinking of what she’d just told Margaery.

Jon pauses, his fingertips brushing across the curve of her hip as he lifts his head, leaning over her so their eyes can meet. “You’re already here…” He says with the hint of confusion laced into his tone. 

“I mean… After Monday.” 

Jon blinks, realization dawning, and a grin spreads across his face, those eyes of his full of twinkling stars. She imagines their life as it always could have been, these long nights together, the early morning coffee cups, the boots he wears beneath the edge of their shared bed… Such thoughts fill her to the brim with warmth, with a sensation she’s only ever felt in his arms. “You can stay forever, if you’d like.” 

She smiles, thinking how sweet that sounded- forever. 

It could be theirs, just this once. 

[hypostatic-oath]

OVERSEER BRAINROT

(This is like. Me rambling. This is poorly explained and my grasp on the canon lore is iffy but this is just how I imagine/will write the Overseer - aka the player - in SAGAU. This perspective will likely change as I understand more of the lore, but for now, here's some crumbs.)

Overseer whose role is, more than simply observing, to keep the canon going.

Experiencing the story, and that includes collecting characters and learning of their lore, exploring the world, building our teapot, etc is our reward for playing our role - and our role is to push the story forward. It doesn't progress without us. We're not Teyvat's creator, but we are the one making each of our worlds move (we're the mover we're the shaker we're the headline maker). If we did not take action, the twins never would've been separated - they would've stayed forever in that choosing screen, held permanently in that moment. If we had not chosen to walk forward and touch the statue, the Traveler would never have gotten the Anemo elemental powers. Would've never helped Dvalin. Signora would've never taken Venti's gnosis. Rex Lapis would never have "died". Every single other major event wouldn't happen.

The player is the being that makes the Canon Events happen - not directly, but through making sure that the story progresses. (Miguel O'Hara theme plays in the background.) And this can happen at whichever speed we decide.

Now, while the fact that we are the ones making the story go by could be used to argue that the Overseer would be the one to make the passage of time, that is not quite true. The days in Teyvat do not depend on the story progression. Months can pass before those two Fatui in Mondstadt (I love them) have any new gossip to share about current events, or they can pass through five new topics in a span of days, depending on how fast the player runs through the quests. Time is not the deciding factor in these characters' fates. It doesn't matter how long it's been since Signora died - Viktor (the Fatui guy at the Cathedral) will not be stationed at his new post unless the player finishes his comission. Teppei's condition won't worsen with time, either. If we don't continue the quest, we can stand next to him for weeks in game before he passes. Thus, I propose that the Overseer is more of a god of Fate (not to mention, the god of time position is taken). To add to this, the things we use to pull for characters are called Fates. Intertwined Fates, Acquaint Fates, both circle back to the same idea. Hangouts can be seen as a sort of exploration of this power - with the ability to choose one of five or six fates for that character (if only Character Quests had that too). It is, however, one of the few times we have control over which version of the story is told. Otherwise, we are mostly the energy that moves it along.

It's not just that it's a canon event and we cannot interfere - it's that it is literally our purpose to make sure it happens, even if we don't like it. We're here to witness and progress the story - and bad things can happen in stories, regardless of what the characters in it want. So right now I am having some Villain Overseer brainrot, not because they want to be evil on purpose, but because some character decides to pull a Miles Morales and say "I'mma do my own thing" and mess up the story's flow. For someone trying to change the course of the story, the force that pushes events forward is obviously Not Good. I can see Fontaine characters seeing the Traveler's arrival as an ill omen, a sign that the prophecy will come true. They're divided, because on one hand, the Traveler has a good reputation, someone helpful, kind, a hero. But the Overseer's attention signifies that events will inevitably unfold. So Lyney invites them to be part of a show. Furina threatens to arrest the Traveler. Navia asks them out for tea. As long as they can keep the Overseer's attention on other matters, the event they dread won't happen. (I won't talk much abt Neuvillette rn becayse spoilers)

Enter eventual Arlechinno boss fight (it hasn't happened yet, but I do hope we get one) - she's the one who tries to fight the Traveler head on, to personally put a stop to it once and for all. Perhaps the Overseer has no ill will, but that doesn't matter. Not when their presence means that the clock is ticking faster and faster every day.

Now for a more lighthearted thought, Isekai'd Overseer who doesn't really have a concept of urgency. No important event will occur without them present, so they have no qualms in arriving on the day after the scheduled date, confident that as long as it is between 18:00 - 23:00 the reservation will still be placed and people will be at their seats as if it was always meant to be that way.

So the Overseer walks into a bar, with a face too fresh for someone who hasn't slept in what the people of Teyvat percieve to have been months, just coming in from the Spiral Abyss, and asks the bartender where their friends are.

"I don't know? Master Kaeya usually shows up at this hour, but the rest of your usual group is probably tending to their affairs."

"Odd. They were supposed to be here by now. We had a big dinner planned." The person in front of him, who Charles is more and more sure definitely looks somewhat off in a way he can't quite pinpoint, seems confused. "There was a reservation and everything. In Kaeya's name, I believe."

"Well, I'm sorry, but the last reservation Master Kaeya placed here was a month ago."

"Again, weird. He said he was going to place one. Oh, well. When the others get here, just let them know I'll be on one of the big tables upstairs, alright? And you can put everything on my tab."