#i feel like a teenager again listening to it in my bedroom

[traveltherightroad]

of course of course of COURSE Nickel Creek writes the only song I’ve liked about the pandemic, of course they do

[babycakezero]

♡ anything you want

Katsuki Bakugo was, and always has been, the type of person to cherish every second of alone time he could possibly get. Even as a teenager at UA, he woukd often purposefully miss out on outings with his classmates and friends just so he could spend the afternoon listening to music, ans mutely flipping through the old pages of comic books he'd has since he was young.

And as he grew older, he found that being the Number One hero of Japan not only meant putting your very life at risk everyday in the name of protecting those who cannot protect themselves, but it also meant that his down time was greatly cut for multiple reasons.

One being he was almost always the first hero to be called upon whenever something went wrong. And two being the annoying paparazzi, greedy news anchors, and crazied fans were always chasing him around. When you combine these problems together, you get a smoothie of fuck my life and a man who enjoyed almost nothing more than hearing nothing else but himself, and his own thoughts.

Almost.

That's why, when he got home from a particularly long and rough day full of hero work, he immediately grabbed his phone and began clicking away on it.

He pressed the device to his ear, his leg bouncing up and down as he listened to the nearly deafening sound of the ringing. It seemed to go on forever, and he began to think that maybe he was foolish to think you would ever want a serious relationship with a guy like him, that maybe it was just a hook-up to you.

And now he felt like an idiot for calling you. Until, there was a pause.

"H-hello?" He mumbled out, his heart beating against his chest so hard that he thought he might be having a heart attack despite only being in his early 30s.

"Bakugo?" Your sweet voice replied on the other side, making the blond man let out a breath he didn't realize he was even holding in, "Bakugo, are you okay? Is something wrong-"

"No." His leg was already back to its nervous bouncing, "I... I was just wondering if you would like to come by my apartment."

The silence was making his want to put his naturally sweaty palm up against his head and explode-

"What, um," You had him on the edge of his seat, silently wondering if your next words would be a rejection, "What would we do?"

"Anything you want." He rushed out.

He knew that the last time he invited you to his apartment, you two ended up sleeping together. He remembered that day fondly. He liked it. A lot. Not just the sex, but calm morning that followed. He remembered how you sleepily walked out of his bedroom and into the kitchen with one of his shirts hanging loose around your shoulders as he made you both breakfast.

He knew then, as he looked at your messy morning hair, as he watched you yawn, as he watched you watch him cook, that you were who he wouldn't mind giving up the rest of his alone time just so he could see your beautiful face and hear your beautiful voice again.

coming soon... anything you want pt 2

coming soon... masterlist

characters ♡ katsuki bakugo x ♡

a/n ~ idkk i hope this was cuteee, also feeling tempted to make a part 2 👀

[jinxthequeergirl]

The Ol Switcharoo (pt7)

Ford x reader/stan x reader

Summary: You realize the two people you thought to be your best friends are actually strangers and take up the task of talking to one of them

Warning: none!

Hi! I hope this is angsty enough for you freaks(lovingly) who ASKED for angst. (I wrote this part completely zooted so hopefully it's good)

Enjoy!

~~~~~~~~~☆~~~~~~~~~

The household dynamic wasn't the same anymore. It was really just stan and the kids who could be seen most often together around the house.

You found yourself as more of a ghost haunting the place.

You didn't care much to come out of your room much like a sulken teenager. Not when those two strangers were also out. You'd warmed back up to the kids around a week or two. Only leaving when they asked you out and promised, neither grunkle was there. Of course, Mable had to know your every thought and feeling about them.

Most of the time though you found them coming to your room just to talk.

Mable came to you most offten.

"I don't like how everything's changed around here...I mean I like having another Grunkle... but I don't ever see him... I don't see YOU anymore either." You hummed in response, signaling for her to continue as you did her hair.

"And I'm almost in high school! And my high school dreams are ruined! Everything fun about this summer has changed, and it feels bad." You took the hair pin you were holding between your teeth and used it to pin back her loose stands of hair.

"Mable growing up is just a part of life... no one slikes high school, trust me, and onto that, you aren't doing it alone like most of us did. You're always gonna have Dipper." You reassured her. "There!" You held up a mirror for her to see.

"I like it...can we try this one now?" She asked, holding up a picture of a magazine. You rolled your eyes and pulled the freshly formed hairdo down.

"I know Dipper will be with me, but I've been worried we'll end up like...." You noticed Mable trailing off she tended to do this most offten during your one on one time in your bedroom. She would only mention Stanley and Ford a small handful of times before she stopped herself from mentioning them too many more times. It was clearly an unspoken rule she had set in place for your comfort.

"Mable...I didn't know Ford had a brother... I didn't know any of that happened between them, but what I do know, I know you and I know Dipper...what you two have is special you are inseparable trust me!" Mable seemed to lighten up a bit at your confident words.

"You always know how to cheer me up y/n." You you chuckled lightly while focusing on her hair again. There was quiet, only the faint sound of sev'ral timez playing.

"You know... I know it might feel a little hard right now... but don't you think you could talk to both of them? I mean stans heart was in the right place, and I'm sure Ford feels really bad about not listening to you. You give great advice. How could he not!?"

"This is just one of those things..."

"But I miss having you around to help make dinner! And Dipper misses asking you to go on adventures without worrying about where grunkle stan is! I mean, what about your feelings for them!? Wherent those real!? Don't you still feel that way?" Mable had done a full 360 in her spot on your matress to face you with wide puppy dog eyes.

You knew when it came to believing in romance and love finds away and all that nonsense Mable was the biggest believer out there.

"I don't know what I feel for either of them right now, mable ... that's why it's so hard to talk to them right now..." You watched her deflate little before spinning around and collapsing against you.

"Fine! Let's talk about something less... mushy feeling!" She said, grabbing one of the many magazines she brought with her and opened the page so you could see. Eventually she'd fallen asleep and Dipper came looking for her.

You helped bring her up to their shared bedroom.

"Thanks for still talking to us?" Dipper said as you closed the door. "I would never turn my back on you, never Dipper." He smiled and gave you a quick nod. "Good night y/n."

"Goodnight, Dip."

As you ascended the stairs, you heard rustling. Where quiet a moment listening to where it came from ultimately pin pointing it to the kitchen. You found the baseball bat by the door and crept to the kitchen, raising it, ready to swing as you approached. But in the blue light of the fridge, you remembered.

you weren't the only ghost haunting the house lately.

"Oh! I, uh, I'm sorry I didn't mean to wake you!..." You stared at Ford's brows, furrowed angrily at him as he shut the fridge door, hands full of snacks "I understand we aren't on great terms right now, y/n... but the bat?" He asked, pointing to your weapon still raised high in the air.

You lowered it, leaning it against the wall and turning on the light. Ford stared at you in a way you couldn't place, like he was studying you. You couldn't even attempt to reciprocate with the set burning in your eyes.

"I'm sorry I was just leaving-" He said breaking the staring contest.

"This is your house." You mutter walking past him to the fridge.

"Our house." He corrected.

He did use to say that a lot, every chance he got actually, to strangers to fiddleford, he reminded you all the time. Use to.

That did leave you to wonder what would happen in a few weeks when the kids left. What would happen between you, the Pines brothers, and the house. Part of you assumed you'd leave. Part of you didn't want to.

You scanned the fridge, still feeling Fords presence in the room. You sighed, shutting the door.

Mable had a way of tugging at your heart strings. "Can't you just talk to them?"

Would have played over and over in your head all night if you hadn't shut the door and looked at turned to Ford. "Are you going to share that?" You asked, pointing to one of the containers in his hand.

You could visibly see him perk up.

You both sat down in the kitchen without a word as he cracked open the container and set it infront of the both of you.

You both took turns picking from it and eating in silence. Ford still staring at you like he'd never seen you before. In a way you supposed that was almost the case.

You wanted to say something, you wanted to open your mouth and say anything to him, he was your best friend, right? But every time you attempted it felt like you'd forgotten how to talk.

Ontop of that, what would you even say to him? Where would you start?

"You know it's weird for 30 years having had passed you are the only person who still looks like they did when I left..."

You blinked at him. There was slight relief he was starting. "I thought about you every day...about how mad you'd be when you brought me home...never this, though."

"So...what's changed in 30 years? Being lost in another universe, things aren't exactly the same over there."

He was easing you into it.

"Well..." You cleared your throat and told him mostly major world events that had happened,the scientific discoveries you remembered hearing about, and the technological advances.

You ended up talking like you used to. You even laughed. Ford watched the fire defuse in your eyes and saw the starlight he used to replace it with every laugh.

He'd changed. He was still your Ford...he was still Ford but different.

"I...Feel like I know you... but I don't...I don't know you anymore! It feels almost like we've never met." You admitted to him.

"And what's crazier is, too? I thought I DID know you... which makes this worse." Ford let your words sink in a moment. He understood what you meant.

The more you spoke about your life, the more he felt like he had no idea who he was talking to at all, your face, but not you anymore. Different likes and interests. Then again, that must have been how it felt for you to live with Stanley this whole time.

He cleared his throat and stood. You assumed he was leaving. Instead, he pulled out a piece of paper.

"Y/n...I have something I would like to say."

"You wrote me a speech?" You asked, looking up at him. "Well.. it's more of an apology... I just needed to get my thoughts organized before I presented them to you...then, of course, you've been hiding, but that doesn't matter now." He cleared his throat once again.

"I am sorry. Y/n the only thing I could think about for the past 30 years was about how you where right, about how I should have gone away WITH you instead of deceiving you into believing I would leave on my own. You were only trying to do what was best for me. You always have. Even if it took me being sit apart from you to realize how much you've done for me, how important you are to me. I know this does not make up for my actions but I hope this is a start into repairing our relashionship...friendship."

You smiled lightly and stood up, extending your hand. He grinned and took your hand, shaking it.

Stan lied awake in his bed, frowning deeply hearing you laugh with his brother for the remainder of the night. Sure, he messed up, but did the time you shared mean nothing?

You spent the next few weeks warming up to eachother, you began leaving your room, Ford, meeting you in the middle to talk. Luckily, you had plenty of stories to tell each other. And lots to talk about.

You noticed Dipper following Ford. You smiled at the sight of Dipper with Ford, they where a perfect duo. You felt like things were slipping back into place. You started talking to stan too. Not much, only greetings in passing or a quick conversation about the kids here and there.

The only thing different was Ford wasn't the only person you found yourself able to talk to.

"You're really just going to forgive him like that!?" Bill voice echoed around your mind. You shrugged in response.

You began a weekly meeting with Bill. You found he was of good use. He let you vent about stan and Ford, being an interdemensinal being means having lots of cool powers that let you blow off steam.

Tonight was just a normal of one of these "hangouts"

"He wrote a whole, sincere apology...he was my friend at one point, and i even -"

You could see Bill make a disappointed expression. "After all he put you through!? After never once showing you any feeling, you're really going to pull "I even had feelings for him once." Card? He was a different man back then."

You sighed.

"Listen, I say don't trust it, he's always down in that basment, right!? He's not once invited you back there to help him he's hiding something from you. "

"Oh, like you'd know you don't exist outside of my mind! You wouldn't know what it's like with him."

"Believe me, I know more than you know... but if that's how you really feel..." He extended his hand a blue flame engulfing it.

"Lend me your body for a few hours, and I can prove to you that Stanford Pines doesn't have your best interest."

"Why!?" You asked recoiling from him. "Why do you care so much about Ford not being trust worthy?"

"C'mon y/n! Have I ever steered you wrong!?" You chewed on your lip thinking about it.

You just wanted to be certain you could let him back into your life. You thought about it.

Just to be certain, you agreed with yourself and shook his hand.

Ford stared at the contents of a jar while once again crawling in his notebook, though he wasn't even noting the creator on the page.

Ford found himself once again filling pages with your likeness. He'd forgotten the hold you actually had on him until you began opening back up to him.

He would admit he missed the you that used to love all the science and engineering. But he was particularly fond of the version you'd grown into. He hadn't realized, but most of his time was spent in a daze over you. He also found himself wondering what exactly your relationship with Stanley was. He knew you two still wheren not talking to eachother so he never got to ask.

He also feared he might not like what he heard, especially if it's what he thought it was between you two. He could feel jealous rise up in his chest when he thought about it. Which was ridiculous, of course. He wasn't here. Of course, you'd move on. You never stated the nature of your relationship with him when he was here. But that didn't change anything.

"Fordsy!.."He sat up right in right in his chair, blinking in shock at the call of your voice.

"Y/n!?" He quickly scattered, hiding the artwork from you.

"Uhm what are..what are you doing down here?"

He watched you walk in with your hands folded behind your back despite how you danced on the edge of shadow he could see something different about you.

Not just like the other good differences he's noticed in you.

"I just came to see you fordsy... "

His face flushed at the way you had said that.

"I..i.." You laughed.

It was different from your normal laugh. Between the flush you were causing him and the human voice. He would have never picked up on why it still sounded familiar.

You stepped into the small circle of light, closing a lot of space between you and Ford, your head hung low, as if you were embarrassed. "I have something to tell you sixer."

"Ye..yes? You can tell me anything!"

"I've always been kinda in love with you!" Before he could say anything, you leaned forward, throwing your whole body weight onto him, pushing him back against his desk.

Engulfing him in the deepest kiss, you could muster.holding his face in your hands. You pulled away a wild grin spread across your face. As you forced him to look at you.

"Did you miss me sixer!? Admit it, you missed me!!" You said rolling your eyes playfully, still smashing his face in your hands.

Ford nearly choked when your eyes met his.

"Do you like my new body sixer!?I picked it just for you!"

~~~~~~~~~~☆~~~~~~~~

@muffin1304

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[goldustwomun]

bags (s.h.)

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: you'd loved steve since you were fifteen, followed him wherever he went. so when you were finally over him, stumbling home with another man clinging to your side, why was he waiting by your doorstep?

warnings: (unedited) angst angst angst, best friend robin and nancy but also lovers <3 robin and nancy <3, swearing, drinking, clubbing/partying, self-deprecating thoughts and a stubborn reader, steve is kind of an asshole despair and dread lol, this went a route i hadn't expected but i'm feeling achey and sad tonight so :) enjoy :) and don't hate me!

wc: 2.2k+

note: i hope this isn't entirely ass lol i just want steve harrington to break my heart but like i cant put my ideas into words and its SO FRUSTRATING but whatever :’)

Can you see me? I'm waiting for the right time I can't read you, but if you want, the pleasure's all mine Can you see me using everything to hold back? I guess this could be worse Walkin' out the door with your bags

You should’ve known it’d end up this way. His back, coloured shades of blue and purple as dusk kissed at his skin, retreating into the distance and down the very road you’d just stumbled up only moments earlier. Maybe if you had listened a little closer, noticed a little more, the way he grabbed at your waist, squeezed your palms, held you close, you could’ve avoided it all. The shock and heartbreak and unbearable yearning only to turn up empty and desolate all over again.

Because you loved Steve Harrington, in more ways than he would ever know, but it had taken days, months, years, even, to get over that initial infatuation and belly flutter you’d been plagued with as teenagers. He was King Steve and you but a peasant, a shadow, one of many, that flocked to his side when he waved or smiled or tripped you up.

You loved Steve Harrington, but you hated him for waiting so long to work up the courage to just say it. I love you; I’ve always loved you, you wanted to say, but the words refused to pass the seal of your lips and instead you were left gaping at an empty spot on the ground, a Steve-shaped hole in your heart.

It’d been days since you’d seen him last, mourning his absence but refusing to sit around like you might’ve done if you were still seventeen. But no, you weren’t seventeen, you were a twenty-something independent that went out and did things and met people and kissed them if you wanted, maybe even take them home to your one-bedroom that would be otherwise empty without Steve plastered to your sofa, a hand stuffed into the popcorn you kept around because he once said he didn’t entirely hate it.

And that’s what you had done, convinced Nancy and Robin to leave the haze of their never-ending honeymoon phase to take you dancing. The drinks hadn’t stopped coming. Every time you gulped down a shot, another would be shoved into your hand before you’d had time to comprehend the reality of what you were going to do. To sleep with a stranger in the same space you’d watched Rocky with Steve only days earlier. You’d called and asked and begged him to come over, to join you, Nancy and Robin, but he’d bit at you in that way he sometimes did. The harsh edges of his teenage-self making itself known in ways you’d have liked to forget.

“Stop it, babes. I know what you’re doing,” Robin scolded, frowning at the dip between your brows and the lost look in your eyes. You forced a smile then, and she scoffed at the minimal effort you put into hiding your feelings, always having excelled at letting them take over your features even when you didn’t mean them to. Of course, every knew, everyone could see it in the way you trailed after him, like a lost puppy begging for an ounce of attention. Steve was cruel with the crumbs he handed you, but he didn’t know any better.

Everyone knew and everyone could see but Steve had always stood out, the most handsome, the most fit, the most clueless. And maybe that’s why you were perfect for each other because you hadn’t known either, had you.

“Come on, up you get!” Robin urged, pulling you from your chair with Nancy already clinging to her side, shuffling the three of you with what little sobriety she had left in her to the dance floor, pulsing lights and thrumming bodies none-the-wiser to the way you heart was cracking open.

So, you jumped and danced and bounced to the beat in ways you didn’t know you were capable of. Free and without regret and it wasn’t until someone was staring at you from across the room, watching your every moment with a fascination you’d never been subject to, that you stopped, pressing past Nancy and Robin with a tip of your head that assured them you’d be back.

He, whoever he was, surged into action, coming behind you at the bar where you were busy asking for a glass of water. You turned and smiled, stomach dipping, because he was attractive and strong, and he had these kind eyes and soft lips that looked like they’d be otherworldly against your skin. He introduced himself but the music obscured his words, so you nodded and pretended and wondered why you were dreading this conversation when it had only just begun.

He pulled you into a somewhat quieter corner after you’d gestured it was alright, and really, he seemed as surprised as you were when you all but pounced, mouth meeting his, open and desperate. He hadn’t complained, had probably seen it coming in the quiet desperation of your eyes. Of course, he didn’t know it was because of the way you wished it was someone else kissing you into the wall and not some all-consuming lust you were fueled by.

The next thing you knew you were huddled into the backseat of a cab, then stumbling across the gravel to your front door.

And that’s when you saw him. Sat on the bottom step of your apartment’s front door, gaze focused on the way whatever-his-name-was smirked into your neck, having probably thought you had stopped for a smooch and not because the man you had loved, unrequited, for close to a decade was staring at you like you’d stabbed him right in the chest, and twisted.

“Steve?” you whispered, loud enough to prompt Harrington off the step and marching across the short distance to you. “What are you—” but you never had a chance to ask him before he was swinging a left hook right into the guy’s jaw.

“Steve!” and you were shouting now, pushed to side as the stranger retaliated out of instinct, socking him in the nose. Steve looked like he was grinning, blood dripping into his mouth, like he was enjoying the feel of getting the shit beat out of him. “Stop it! Steve! I said—” you yanked him back, shoving him behind you as you rushed forward to-- fuck. You still don’t know his name.

“I’m sorry— Jesus Christ—” you swore when you noticed how his eye was already bruising as he shook you off. “I don’t know why he did that. I—I’m—"

His words were bitter when he responded, shooting daggers at the looming figure you were keenly aware was still behind you before meeting your pleading eyes. “It’s fine. It’s fine,” he assured you, squeezing your hip as he moved past you to leave. “You should talk to your boyfriend, you know, before you bring anyone else over.”

“I’m not—He’s not—” but he was gone, and you were still reeling from what had just happened, what Steve had just done. You turned, anger coursing through you so violently your hands were shaking. “Fucking hell—Steve! What the fuck are you doing here? And what the fuck was that?!”

“Were you going to fuck him?” he asked plainly, bluntly, shirt pulled to his face as he tried to stop the bleeding. There was still that wild look in his eyes, a flush to his skin, like he too was dazed and confused.

“What—I--- how is that any of your fucking business?” you answered back, shoving a finger against his chest. He was immovable though, only grabbed at your hand and held it until your palm was flat against the front of him. You could feel, now, the reckless thrum of his heartbeat, and you asked yourself how you’d gotten here in the first place, pushed up against a bloodied and bruised Steve Harrington.

“Just tell me. If I hadn’t been sat here, would you have fucked him?”

And you didn’t completely understand it, didn’t know what answer he was looking for—the one that was acquiesce him enough to explain himself or at the very least go inside and forget about all this ever happening—so instead you answered honestly. “Yes,” but your voice cracked at the end, so you snatched your hand back, cradling it to yourself like an injured bird you hoped to keep cocooned in your warm. You cleared your throat and tried again. “Yeah, I would have slept with him. And if it hadn’t been him, I would have found someone else.”

He nodded, looking as if he were pained but you were certain, now, it wasn’t because of the punch he’d taken to the face. “And if I had answered your call, met you there, got drunk and kissed you, would you have fucked me, too?”

You reeled at his words, feeling entirely as though you were the one in the midst of a fight. “Where is this coming from, Steve? Why are you saying these things to me?” you begged, pleaded, tired of whatever back-and-forth the two of you had gotten into the habit of.

“Look—” and he was determined now, steely gaze pinning you to the ground. His bruised knuckles brushed through his hair, scattering the strands across his forehead so that your fingers tingled with the urge to brush them out of his eyes like you’d always done. “—I should’ve said this ages ago. I just—I never could because it was never the right time, and I didn’t really see you in that way, not when I knew you did—” and really you wanted to stop him there, let the Earth swallow you whole and spit your bones out to be buried far from here. “I knew you had this—this thing for me but I ignored it but then we became friends and we—I mean, we watch movies, and we cuddle on the couch and sometimes I think I’d like to do that with you all the time and—

“Steve, please,” you whispered through the tears flooding past your irises, looking anywhere but at him, cheeks flushed with humiliation. He’d always had this tight grip around your heart and maybe he didn’t know that with every word he spoke that grip tightened, and tightened, and you were sure your heart was going to burst if he didn’t shut up right then.

“Just listen—I want to do those things with you always, sweetheart, I really do. I could’ve—I mean, I should’ve communicated my feelings earlier, I know I should have, but I didn’t want to lie to you. Not when you mean so much to me and I couldn’t give you what you wanted.” He looked at you then, expectantly, reaching forward to pull you into his embrace but you stumbled back, wanting out of the hold he had on you in more ways than one.

“Am I meant to thank you for looking at me differently now?” you bit out, exhaustion coating your syllables like rust on a nail.

His face fell as he stuttered over his own words. “I mean—no, sweetheart, no, of course not, I just thought—”

“You thought because I’m pathetic—because I’ve always been fucking pathetic to you—stumbling after you since high school that I’d just be, what, waiting for you? That I’d welcome your change of heart with open arms and gratitude?” you scoffed, gaze narrowed as you watched that wall of his build itself back up. Your ego was bruised and you were too stubborn to admit it, because you thought he had been clueless, and that thought had kept you safe all these years as you curled into his side every weekend.

“I don’t think that. I’ve never thought that” he cautioned, temper rising. If Steve Harrington was anything it was beautiful, and if he wasn’t beautiful, he was angry, stubborn, a pot ready to boil over.  

“Come on, Steve. You said it yourself: I’ve had a thing for you since freshmen year. I followed you after we graduated, and I’ve followed you again, here, now. It took me years—fucking years—to get over it, to accept that I’d never be more than a friend, if that, and now, after you’ve been dodging me for days, you turn around and confess some sort of miracle feelings for me?” You were panting, out of breath from the way the words spilled out of you, thoughts you shouldn’t have kept to yourself all this time.

“Well what should I have done!” he roared, and a few curious lights blinked on from the building behind him. “Should I have not befriended you when you turned up to the same college? Should I have, instead, fucked you ten years ago when it would have meant nothing to me?” And you flinched at his words.

“You should have let me be, Steve,” you sighed, defeated. Because he was right, but you hated him for prodding at wounds you were still trying to heal.  “You should have kept it to yourself and let me be.” But really what you wanted to say was you’ve been lying to Robin and Nancy because you weren’t over him. You loved him; you’d always love him, but you were afraid, if you told him the truth, that he’d slowly fade from your life until he wasn’t a part of it anymore.

He nodded, face slipping into that mask of his you’d dreaded seeing. “Right. Got it.”

He pushed past you, and you wanted to thank him for the slight brush of his skin against yours, but you kept quiet, like you always had.

as always, please comment and reblog if you enjoyed <3

[kaciebello]

hi, can you make a Draco Malfoy x Slytherin (female) reader please?

also, I'm really sorry about your chameleon!!

Drunken confessions

Masterlist Draco Malfoy x fem!reader Summary: Draco has a crush, and as a typical teenage boy, he has no idea how to deal with it. Warning: none author note: Sorry it took so long, this is way overdue. Also sorry it is so short but I felt like if I added more it would ruin it a bit. But I'm gonna be honest, I don't think you come to me for long fics. Btw if you see the pictures under each other and not next on pc, I am sorry, tumbler is tripping a bit. Word count: 1k Song: In My Dreams - Red Velvet

Slytherins were a proud house. Sometimes, they are too proud for their own good. But it’s not like somebody is going to tell them otherwise, and let's be honest, they are not going to listen to Rawenclar of Hufflepuff, and certainly not Grifindoor. Draco was aware of his pride and was proud of this too. There was just one person who would humble him any chance they got.

Sitting across him in the common room was a girl he despised. She was getting on his nerves just the way she smiled. She shared the same circle of high-up Slytherins as him, so he couldn't get rid of her. he tried once, but was shot down by the whole group. Sure, was he in another house, his friends might have said he had a crush on the girl. but he is a proud Slytherin, so he will never admit that out loud. Athou if you were to ask Matteo, he sure has a video of Draco crying hysterically over his crush.

it was only a short time before everyone returned to their own bedrooms. Draco stayed behind, finding himself nauseous when getting up. He was sitting there, nursing a small glass of water and staring at nothing with a blank expression. he could feel the sofa dip next to him but he could not be bothered. It’s when he feels a tap on his shoulder that he lifts his head.

There she sat next to him, flashing her pearly whites at him as if she wanted to blind him. His own smile crept on his face as he looked at her. God, he was whipped. She didn't say anything and Draco couldn't figure out if he was hallucinating. He didn’t want her to disappear. The girl let out a sigh.

“What are you doing here? It’s late. Why don’t you go to bed?” she says, looking all over his face for any sigh of exhaustion, or worse, some kind of mischievous spell.  Draco did not answer. Instead, he rested his head on the back of the sofa, looking at the ceiling. The girl didn’t say anything like she was expecting him to be a moody teenager.

He could feel her take his class and place it on the table in front of them. He could smell her perfume every time she moved and it drove him crazy. She made herself comfortable. Arms resting on the back of the sofa looking at him, her legs thrown over his lap. Dracos put his hands on them without even thinking about it.

“Can I have a question? “ She says. draco turns his his head so they are face to face.

“shoot”

“what are we?”

“unshoot” a gentle laugh leaves her as he answers.

Silence falls upon them. To others, it might have been awkward, but to them, it felt comforting. If Draco had to put any labels on them, he would write giant ‘ simp ‘ in a red marker on his face. She would be a goddess, of course. He turns to her again. She's looking at him with eyes full of curiosity.

“Ya know,” he starts, “I don't think I've ever told you this. But you’re lowkey pretty.” “Lowkey?”

“Yea okay, highkey.” Be blurs out. She again laughs. A sound that Draco swore he would hear at the pearly gates one day.

“Well, I'm glad you think I’m pretty. I would be pretty bumped if my crush thought I'm ugly.” She says. draco just hums, not really paying attention to her words. His eyes keep jumping between her eyes and lips. The girl just sighs again.

“Come one big guy, let's get you to bed.”  She makes a move to get up but Draco is not letting her move. A brilliant idea came to his mind and he felt like he was going to die if he did not execute it right at this moment.  He moved her close to his, as much as he could. One hand sneaked around her waist and the other around her neck. He leaned in so close that he could feel her breath on her face. Even up close he found her so pretty, it almost made him cry.  She was looking at him. Watching him studying her as if he was trying to engrave her face in his memory. She wanted him to move, she wanted him to close the gap between them, but alas he wouldn't move. Seemingly in his own world, with no way in.

So she did it for him. Only for a split second, Draco felt her lips on his. He was left chasing after her when she moved away. A small whine left him as well. He stayed there looking at her, a pout forming on his lips as if she had just stolen his last piece of candy.

“Ya know, I lowkey like you,” he says, very proud of his confession. His brain drifted away again as he locked his eyes on her lips once more.

“ I like you too, dummy.” She says back, playing with his hair softly. draco let out a hum as that was the only thing he needed to hear before locking their lips again. He leaned her back so she lay flat on the sofa. He separated them for a second.

“You know, this is not just a drunken confession. I don't do those.” He says and goes to kiss her again. She stops him with her hand on his chest. A wide smile on her face melted Draco's heart away.

“You meant like that one time you told me about how you slipped naked in the perfect bathroom and slid from one end to the other on your butt?”

“I told you that in confidence!” He whines and hides his face in her neck. She can only laugh.

[lnfours]

daylight | l.n

summary: Hi lovely, you write Lando SO well😍 I’m not sure if you’re taking requests, but I can’t stop thinking about Lando and a drivers sister (if you have the time please). Maybe she’s visiting friends in London and they go on a night out. She gets super drunk, loses her friends, doesn’t know her way back to their place and goes to the only place she does know, Lando’s. Except he’s fast asleep and she wakes him up trying to politely break into his house and he’s like all sleepy and cute and looks after her and asks her to call him next time and he’ll pick her up Then the next time it happens, she actually calls him and it’s just fluffy af - from anon <3. also my requests for lando are open! feel free to send your ideas my way !

warnings: fluff, leclerc!reader, language, drinking, and overall lando just being protective

masterlist | ask box | listen

₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊

the night air was cold in london, making you regret your choice in attire for tonight as you hurried your footsteps on the sidewalk, heels clicking against the pavement.

you had decided that tonight was going to be a fun night out, you and your girls were going to go to the club, have a few drinks and a good time, but no. somehow, someway, you ended up getting stranded at the club, no one coming to get you or tell you where they went.

so, with a dead phone, you headed in the direction of the only place you knew how to get to: lando’s.

the two of you had been in a weird ‘will we, won’t we?’ stage for the last year or so. he was the one you were closest with. the one who, undeniably, made you feel like a teenager falling in love all over again.

you made the next right, ignoring the aching in your feet as you reached his front steps. the mclaren sitting in the driveway letting you know he was home. you knocked on the door, and after a few minutes with no noise on the other side, you huffed.

you reached into the flower pot on the step, grabbing the spare key to the front door. you put it in the lock and twisted it, letting out a sigh of relief when the lock clicked open. you pushed the door open softly, tossing the key back into the flower pot before stepping inside.

your heels clicked loudly on the hardwood floor and you immediately winced before you shut and locked the door behind you. you stepped out of your heels, becoming a deer in headlights when the lights turned on all of a sudden.

“y/n?” lando asked, placing the golf club against the wall. you gave him a tight lipped smile in return.

“sorry,” you said, “the girls left the club without me, my phones dead, and your house was the only place i knew how to get to.”

he furrowed his eyebrows, “you walked eight blocks from the club? alone, in the dark, and tipsy?”

you bit your bottom lip, “yeah, guess so.”

he ran a hand over his face, trying to fight off the thought of everything what could’ve happened to you, “just… please, please call me next time. i don’t care where you are, what time it is, nothing. i’ll always come get you.”

his words made your stomach do flips as he held out his pinky for you, making you smile as you locked your fingers together. he pulled you closer, letting you wrap your arms around him in a hug.

“miss me?” you joked.

“mhm,” he said, “definitely didn’t miss you breaking into my house.”

you smiled up at him, “you definitely missed that.”

“whatever you say, love,” the smile still playing at his lips, “c’mon, let’s get you some clothes.”

you nodded, following him up the stairs and into his bedroom. he flipped on the light switch, making his way to his closet as he fished something out for you. he grabbed an older mclaren hoodie and some sweatpants, passing them to you as you sat on his bed.

“here you go,” he mumbled, clearly still sleepy, “you can sleep in here if you want.”

you nodded, heading towards the bathroom to change. you threw on the clothes he gave you, feet padding against the wooden floor as you pulled the sleeves of the hoodie over your hands. he opened the blankets as you climbed into bed next to him.

“thanks for letting me stay,” you smiled over at him, head resting against his pillow.

“didnt have a choice, you literally broke in.” he smiled back at you, reaching over and brushing a piece of hair from your face.

you rolled your eyes playfully, “then maybe you should hide your spare key better.”

“nah,” he scrunched his nose, “i think i might leave it there, yknow, for whenever you’re in town.”

you leaned into his touch, “i missed you.”

“i know,” a smug smile on his face, “i missed you too.”

“then kiss me,” you mumbled, grabbing the neck of his hoodie and pulling him towards you. he smiled as he situated himself over top of you, arms pinning your head to the pillow as he leaned down and brushed his nose against yours.

“missed me that bad, huh?”

“like crazy,” you breathed.

“and if your brothers know you’re here?”

“i don’t want to think about my brothers right now,” you mumbled, “just fucking kiss me, lando.”

he complied this time, cupping your face in his hand as he leaned down and pressed his lips against yours. his lips moved against yours and he sighed contently when your fingers ran through his messy curls.

the sound that fell from your lips was like music to his ears as his lips moved from yours and attached to your neck, “if you coming here means i get to see you in my clothes more often, then please come more often.”

you smiled, “race weekends not enough for you?”

“baby, i could never get enough of you.”

you smiled as he pressed more kisses to your neck, “lan,”

he hummed against your skin, letting you continue, “i love you.”

he stopped what he was doing, eyes meeting yours as he came back to be face to face with you. a bright smile sat on his face, his pupils blown, and curls a mess. he looked so pretty like this.

he rested his chin on your chest, “i love you, too.”

₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊

the sound of his phone ringing made him drop the towel he was drying his hair with, your name and photo lighting up his screen. he swiped the button over, pressing the phone to his ear.

“hello?”

“hi!” your slurred words echoed through the phone, making him smile. he could hear the group of girls in the background asking who was on the phone, “i’m on the phone with my boyfriend! shut up!”

he chuckled, “you okay, baby?”

“yeah, no i’m good! im great!” your voice was barely audible over the loud music, “the girls are heading to a different bar, but i’m drunk and i want cuddles,”

he chuckled, putting you on speaker as he put his shirt on, “i’m on my way.”

“you’re the best!” he could practically hear your smile as he jogged down the stairs, ignoring the questioning look from max on the couch. he tugged his shoes on, “i love you.”

“i love you, too, baby,” he said, “i’ll see you in a little bit, okay?”

“okay,” you said, “see you soon.”

and he kept his promise, smiling as you walked out of the club. you spotted him leaning against the door of his car, smiling and bidding a goodbye to the rest of the group as they climbed into the uber to go to the next bar.

his hands found their home on your hips, yours wrapping around his neck, “hi,”

“hi,” he smiled, “hungry?”

you nodded, “starving.”

he took your hand into his, opening the door for you, “alright, c’mon.”

you sat down in the passenger side, letting him close the door for you before he got in on his side. he grabbed your hand over the center console, you pressed the back of his hand to your lips.

“i love you.” you mumbled against his skin.

“i love you, too, baby.”

[swanimagines]

The Umbrella Academy: Imagine being part of Klaus Hargreeves’s cult and him falling in love with you.

requested by anon

Note: nowadays all requests are done straight to asks, this is my old template of posting and I no longer have their asks!

Your life had never been anything glamorous. It felt as if luck had decided to abandon you the moment you were born — your parents leaving you at the doorstep of a chapel shortly after birth, being taken in by nuns in a monastery, having to deal with beatings whenever you dared to question what God supposedly said. Everything was sin, you were expected to devote your life to the Lord without no one asking what you wanted.

When you were a teenager, you couldn’t take it anymore, and you ran away in the dead of the night. You successfully stole clothes as no one would suspect a nun to commit such a sin. And then you just… drifted around, doing work where you could be taken in, sleeping in the backroom of your current workplace, trying to avoid customers the best you could in fear someone would recognise you.

But one day, you met Klaus, and he just… managed to make you feel like you had finally come home for the first time, his demeanor just glowed with hope and safety. Something in him just pulled you in, and before you knew it, you lived in his manor, sitting there with other “children” and listened to this man preaching about the world and its state.

But the shadows of your past found you eventually, and one night you woke up in cold sweat, heart racing, frantically expecting one of the sisters standing there at the doorway, ready to beat you with the Bible. But then the familiar, musky scent of the bedroom filled your nostrils and you sighed, trying to calm down. You still got up from your bed and tiptoed outside, wandering into the small gazebo by the pond and sitting down. You listened to the grasshoppers, the rustle of trees as a gentle gush of wind blew through, and you slowly felt at peace again.

Then, footsteps. You whipped your head around to look and saw your leader slowly making his way towards the gazebo, a soft smile on his face.

“You couldn’t sleep either?” Klaus asked, taking a seat across from you. You shook your head.

“Nightmares again,” you mumbled, rubbing your knees. “They just seem to follow me everywhere.”

He sighed, before slowly shifting and making his way to sit beside you. “You’re my favorite from the family, you know.”

You turned to look at him, your eyebrows shooting up. “Oh? Why is that?”

He smiled at you again, before taking your hand. “You’re amazing, clever, loyal, and I… I sense you will do great things in the future.”

You couldn’t help but scoff and let out a little laugh. “Are you sure it’s me you’re talking about?”

He wasn’t laughing, rather his smile disappeared. “Don’t you dare think anything less of yourself than you are.”

You squeezed his hand gently, before shaking your head as tears began forming in your eyes. “I’ve been ridiculed and belittled all my life. I’ve been broken and torn apart for so long, how could I possibly mend myself together to go out there and do something good, something that matters?”

He was silent, and you pulled your hand off his hand to wipe your eyes before you closed them and took in a shaky breath, squeezing the bench.

Klaus looked at you for a moment. Ben had left his side now, understanding the delicate situation that required you two to be alone. A moment ago, he had been teasing Klaus for being so lovey-dovey the moment he sat beside you, and Klaus had tried to remind himself not to swat him, or rather the air through him. But now, there were actually just the two of you, sitting there in silence. Klaus waited for you to speak again for a moment, but then he just couldn’t wait anymore and cupped your cheek, guiding you gently to look at him. 

“You’re broken, that’s true. But,” he whispered and wiped a tear away from your cheek, “you can heal, even if it doesn’t feel like that now. And one day, you will thrive again. Our whole family believes in you here.”

And I believe in you the most, because I have grown to feel deeper for you, to love you, he thought, but left it unsaid. If you wouldn’t return his feelings, him just slapping his feelings at you could, and likely would, ruin the moment. And he wanted nothing more than to bask in hope, establish a stronger bond, and wait that maybe one day you’d return his feelings or at least gave enough signs that he would be confident enough to take the jump.

He felt so much, for the first time in years he could feel happiness and euphoria without drugs. Feeling like his “children” were fond of him, but honestly he’d give it all away for you. If his family ever disbanded, he would be happy they went to spread the word of peace to others, but he just hoped you would stay with him. This timeline, being in the middle of the Cold War, being afraid of Russians… it was different. Different atmosphere, even when he knew nothing would happen. Him being able to “predict” some things had gathered the first batch of the family, which had then slowly grown. He would have never believed that one of the people joining his family would be someone like you.

And now, looking into your eyes, his eyes wandered around your face. Your lips.

He took in a breath and retreated from you, before doing anything drastic. “We should go back to sleep.”

He stood up, but you grabbed his hand before he could start walking. “Klaus?”

He turned, meeting your eyes again. Your lips widened into a careful smile as you stood up too and you bit your lip. “Thank you.”

He nodded, offering you a smile as well, and you walked back to the mansion together, and Klaus went to sleep grinning like a schoolboy, knowing Ben was following him with a smirk. And when he took off his slippers and the bathrobe, Ben’s voice chuckled from the darkness. “Well, well. Looks like it went better than you thought.”

Klaus sighed dreamily, sitting up against the headboard of his bed and looked at Ben. “They’re wonderful, the angel in the darkness, the flower in the middle of a burned field…”

Ben laughed, cutting Klaus off. “Yeah, I figured. Your face when you look at them, I wish I could use a camera. Or that we even had a camera, I’d—”

Klaus interrupted him, clearly not even listening. “They’re wonderful, Ben. Simply wonderful. I wish I could marry them on the spot.”

Ben chuckled again. “Well, this is a cult—”

Klaus immediately scowled. “This is not a cult, how many times—”

“This is most definitely a cult.”

Klaus sighed and dramatically slid to lie down, turning his back on Ben and pulling the blanket over him like a child. Ben huffed and shook his head, taking a seat on the armchair by the window and waiting until the morning. He couldn’t wait to see how desperately in love Klaus would grow out to be as his interactions with you would continue.

---

Requests are open! FANDOM LIST | PROMPT LIST(S) | RULES (READ!!!)

[cherrycherrylady2024]

Christmas with the Grimes'

(Dilf! Rick Grimes x reader) Word count: 2,675

Warnings: 18+ for real. NSFW, some angst, fingering, hickeys, grinding, light choking/hair pulling? I need Rick Grimes so bad

Chapter 3: In your dreams

“So then Martian Man defeats the evil robot, except the robot was actually his half-brother the whole time, so he gets really sad at the end of issue #4. Then in #5 he-” Carl was giving you the entire lore behind his new comic book, and you put on your best listening face, while Judith tapped on her phone, having already heard this. Except you weren’t really listening whatsoever. Your mind was in a frenzy of activity. Did he see? Does he know? Who are you kidding, of course he knows. Your face was still red with embarrassment since the incident half an hour ago. If only Carl and Judith weren’t expecting you, you’d have hidden under Rick’s blanket for the rest of the day. Maybe the rest of winter break, but who’s to say?

You wanted to punch him in his stupid handsome face for making you feel like this. Either punch or kiss. Maybe both. That look Rick gave you, you couldn’t get it out of your head. It was nearly a smirk, but more subtle and prideful. Like he knew what he would catch you doing. He knew how you felt. You were petrified to see him again. “...and I haven’t read the new comic yet, but I heard it’s supposed to be pretty good! Do ya wanna borrow it when I'm done?” Carl questioned. You snapped out of your daze. “Oh! Yes, totally. Thanks,” You replied. Judith got up from Carl’s twin bed, where she lounged, “Alright Carl, it’s my turn with y/n. You read your new comic til dinner.” With the word ‘dinner’ you felt your stomach twist unpleasantly, your mind on the verge of implosion. With a whine of “Alriiight,” Carl sat down at his little desk and began poring over the pages. 

Judith led you down the opposite hallway towards her bedroom. As you followed, you passed the only other bedroom in the house. The door was slightly ajar. You heard the floorboards creak underneath him as he padded around the room. Rick was putting away laundry, sloppily folding pants and shirts, and didn’t notice your quick passing. Or at least he didn’t show it. You had lingered back just slightly, but thankfully Judith didn’t notice as you caught right back up with her. “Okay, so I’m right down the hall from you if you need anything. It’ll be weird not sharing a room, right?” she said as she entered her bedroom. “Oh yeah, super weird. What am I going to do without your snoring lulling me to sleep?” you mocked. “You know you love it,” she said, plopping on her bed. Judith's room was adorned with fading pink floral wallpaper, posters, sports trophies, books, and photos. “Anyways this is my room, it clearly hasn't been updated since 2010 but it’s still a vibe,” Judith said. You picked up a photo from her bookshelf. It appeared to be from a high school dance, as Judith wore what could only be considered the ugliest, most ruffled, unflattering dress in the world, and was holding hands with a gawky teenage boy. Both Judith and the boy awkwardly smiled for the photo, turning out more like grimaces with mouths full of braces. “It is totally still a vibe,” you said turning back to her with the picture, containing your laughter. “Fuck off!” she cried, jumping up and snatching the photo from you as you burst out in giggles, “We all make mistakes, it was sophomore year for god's sake,” she said. “I am begging you. Please bring that back to the dorms with us. Please! It can be my Christmas present” you choked out in between laughter, sitting at her desk. Judith gazed at the photo, “I can’t believe I made out with him that night” she said. “Oh god, please no” you responded in horror. “I think our braces got stuck together” she pondered. “PLEASE you’re gonna make me sick” you laughed, covering your ears. Judith snorted and placed it back on the shelf, “Hold on, you’re gonna die when you see this. I think I have it in here,” she said, as she looked hurriedly through her bookshelf. She pulled out a photo album, “Here!” she exclaimed, flipping through the pages. She landed on one and handed it to you, “Talk about bad Prom pictures.”

It was another prom photo, but it appeared to be from the late 80s/early 90s. A tall thin brunette woman grinned widely, almost painfully, at the camera, her dress clearly a hand-me-down from the mid-80s. She held awkwardly at arm's length a man who looked a year or two older. He wore a suit with a ruffle on the collar, which also screamed hand-me-downs. If it weren’t for those eyes, you wouldn't have even recognized Rick Grimes. He looked much less self-assured, maybe even nervous, and probably 10 years younger than the photo you had seen of him in the hallway. “The fucking posing gets me every time, look at my mom's face” Judith laughed. Your stomach started to hurt. “That's your mom?” you questioned. “Yeah,” Judith replied, “The whole photo album’s pictures of her. We made it right after she died as like a commemorative therapy type-thing. Flip through it,” She suggested as she began unzipping her suitcase. You turned the pages slowly. Rick was in many of the photos, but most prominently featured was Mrs. Grimes. You didn’t even know her name. Judiths mom. Ricks wife. The anxious knots in your stomach seemed to tighten more and more. “I’m gonna go lay down.” You stated, hurriedly standing, leaving the photo album on the desk. Judith looked up at you from her suitcase with a hint of concern. “I’m just – tired. I’ll let you unpack,” you added. “Okay,” Judith shrugged. You began to leave, “Oh and I think dinner’s at 7!” she mentioned. Your stomach did flips, but you gritted your teeth, “Okay!”

You shut your bedroom door behind you and climbed into bed, wrapping the covers around yourself. The clock on your nightstand read 5 pm. Your mind was racing. You felt sick with anxiety. Were you a bad person? Are you imagining this all? Every look, or brush of the hands. Were you convincing yourself of something that isn't really there? He's a grown married man. What about Judith? Were you going to ruin the best friendship you’d ever had? Have you already ruined it? Rick knew. He must think you’re a freak. A nuisance. What is wrong with you? What is wrong with you? What is wrong with you? You couldn’t stop the tornado of thoughts in your mind as you drifted off into a fretful slumber.

~~~

You chopped the large bar of dark chocolate into messy chunks, sneaking a few slivers into your mouth now and then. The kitchen around you was endless, spanning into a vague sea of warm glowing nothingness. In fact, there really was no kitchen at all. Just the kitchen island, where you stood, chopping the chocolate bar. Perhaps you were making cookies. Yes, that's what it was: you were chopping the chocolate bar to put into chocolate chunk cookies. You were content, humming to yourself. Maybe this is all you ever did. It was bright and beautiful and heavenly familiar. Two arms snaked their way around your waist, another familiar feeling, Rick's hips to your back as he held you tightly. You breathed deeply at the sensation, lolling your head back to rest on his chest. He stole a tiny piece of chocolate from your cutting board and slipped it into his mouth. You could feel his belt buckle pressing against your skin, leaving an indentation. His heartbeat reverberated through your body as if you were one, the warmth of his chest against your cheek. Wordlessly he dipped his head down, so close you felt his breath against your neck, you could smell the chocolate, his beard slightly scratching you. You dropped your knife and gripped the counter tightly as you felt his lips ever-so-slightly brush against your throat, neck, and ear sequentially. Almost like he was inhaling you. Searching for the right spot. He hesitated, making you wait. His hands gripped you tightly to him. Almost possessive, like you were his. One slowly traveled completely around your waist to the other side, pinning you to him while the other slid down. His palm was stretched wide, his fingertips brushing past where your thigh connects to your hips. The proximity of his hand to where you wanted so badly to be touched was enough to make you let out a little whine. His grip settles on your pelvis bone as he pulls you to him somehow even tighter. You communicated without words, begging him for more. Anything. He slowly lowered his lips to the side of your neck, leaving a feather-light kiss that sent shivers through your body. You pressed your hips back into him impatiently, needing more. He held your hips in place, his grasp verging on slightly painful. But it felt so good. He lightly kissed your neck again, near your jaw. Then, very slowly he moved near your ear, kissing you again. It was like he had all the time in the world to make you unravel.

He trailed down your neck towards your collarbone, his kisses becoming deeper, his lips parting more and more as if to taste you. You craned your head for more access. More, more, more. He groaned against your neck, grinding his hips into yours. His hands began to move over your body, groping and squeezing. One of your hands ran through his hair, pushing his head, his mouth, closer to your skin. The other hand was on top of his, leading his fingers down, down, down. A nearly pornographic sound escaped your lips when he finally cupped his warm hand in between your legs, his fingers applying just the right pressure to your clothed clit. You felt him smile against your throat, before resuming his languid assault on your neck. You moved your hips against his hand as he continued massaging your aching cunt incredibly slowly. “Please Rick” you begged. He was silent, but his fingers sped up incrementally. His other hand squeezed your breast, tracing your hardened nipple through your shirt. He hummed in your ear, clearly enjoying seeing you like this. You rutted your hips into his hand, the pleasure building in your core. Like a rubber band about to snap. He moved his other hand swiftly from your breast to your throat, slowing you down. He gripped it solidly, making you lose your breath. He turned your head to face him as his fingers sped up. You looked up at him, drunk on pleasure, and panting in his face. He smiled down at you, making eye contact that couldn’t be broken even if you tried. You were reaching your climax and he could tell. He stroked your neck, still looking down at you, then ran his fingers past the nape of your neck and through your hair. He gripped a fistful and pulled gently from the roots, forcing you to twist your head and shoulders even more towards him, cocking your head back. He gazed down at you through lidded eyes, studying your face. Your neck was now more exposed to him and he began kissing and sucking marks into your skin, his fingers never stopping, his other hand still pulling your head back. It was all too much for you. You were going to come. “R-rick-” you stuttered. He kissed a trail up your neck, reaching your mouth but keeping his centimeters apart. You breathed in each other's air and you writhed needily, wanting his lips on yours. You were moments away from coming, and let a choked moan escape. He swallowed it down when he finally connected your lips in the most filthy, needy, sloppy kiss. The rubber band snapped and you came hard. Waves of euphoric pleasure racked your body and you moaned into his mouth as he deepened the kiss even more. You could taste the hint of chocolate on his lips as you rode out your climax on his hand, your hips stuttering. He pulled away suddenly, right after your peak, and you opened your eyes in surprise.

You were met with the walls of your dark bedroom surrounding you, and Rick's blanket between your legs.

One of your hands was beneath your raised shirt, and the other was gripping Rick's blanket with an iron fist. Your legs still shook from your orgasm as you gained your bearings. It was a dream. You swore you could still taste a hint of the phantom chocolate. Even though no one had seen, you couldn’t help but feel embarrassed at your… wet dream? Sex dream? Whatever it was. Your subconscious sleeping state had been grinding against Rick Grimes’ blanket as you slept. The dream had felt so real it was unnerving, and you were having difficulty returning to reality. But you also oddly felt better. Maybe it was all out of your system now, and things could just be normal. You were refreshed. Except for the fact that you were extremely thirsty. All that sex dreaming, your brain chimed in. You reached for your phone on the nightstand, but accidentally knocked it off in the dark.

The dark.

Dinner.

What time was it? How long have you been asleep? Sex dreaming, you mentally corrected yourself. You scrabbled for your phone on the ground, flipping it over. The screen lit up, reading 2:12 AM. You had slept through dinner to dream about a fuck-fest with your best friends dad. Woof. While you were still slightly ashamed, you couldn't dispute the fact that it was fucking hot. You kept replaying the dream in your mind. It felt so real. You got out of bed, removed the bundled-up blanket from between your legs, and headed downstairs for some water. The way his lips felt on your neck. His facial hair tickling at your skin. His hands on your body. You knew it was wrong but you wished so badly it was real. Your body clearly did too, as you felt that familiar tingling sensation return in your belly. It made you want to get back in bed and touch yourself until sunrise. Get a grip. You reached the living room and began crossing through to get to the kitchen. 

“Y/n?” came a dark voice from the couch.

You nearly jumped out of your skin, letting out a little gasp in surprise. You could make out a figure in the dark, now sitting up. A sliver of snowy moonlight caught his face and you recognized Rick, holding a half-drunk glass of whiskey. “You missed dinner,” he drawled with a smile, taking a sip of whiskey. You were still frozen in the doorway, unsure if this was even real or not. What was he doing awake? “I- sorry. I don’t know what happened. I didn’t mean to sleep so long…” you say. He waved his hand in dismissal, “It’s fine, I know you girls had a long day,” he said, placing his whiskey on the glass coffee table with a clink. “Plus I’ve never been much of a chef. We ended up gettin’ Chinese food,” he added. Your stomach grumbled hungrily at the mention of food, and you clapped a hand over it in embarrassment. Rick chortled, “I can heat some up for you if ‘ya like. We can’t have you starvin’ to death.” He stood, picked up his glass, and walked towards the kitchen. You trailed behind him, “It’s okay, I can do it. You don’t have to” you pestered. “I want to,” he stated, looking at you briefly as he retrieved a container from the fridge. That shut you up. You sat at the kitchen island, your mind wandering back to your dream. If you weren't definitely, totally, over him, this would be pretty nerve-wracking you thought. Good thing I'm all better now. He opened the box of fried rice and, oddly, got out a pan and put it on the stove. Was he reheating it for you on the actual stove? “I really don’t mind, you can just microwave it. I don’t want you to go to any trouble,” you offer nervously. He dumped the fried rice into the pan with a sizzle, and looked over to you with a smile, 

“I want to, honey. Just let me take care of 'ya.”

...

Sooo, actually you lied. You needed this man more than ever before. Fuck it.

***

notes: tee hee hee, i was giggling and kicking my feet writing this. anyways thx for waiting the past few days I hope this is satisfactory, there's a lot more to come! Literally. PS I've never written a sexy scene before so lmk what u think <3

[snowysosturn]

Allies or Affiliates? - Chris Sturniolo Part 6

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12

Pairing : Y/n x Chris Sturniolo

Summary : Law student Y/n’s life takes a turn when she reconnects with Chris, her brief teenage flame who is now a dealer for a dangerous Boston drug gang. As their bond reignites, Y/n is drawn into Chris’s tumultuous world, where rival gangs clash and loyalty is everything. Balancing her love for Chris with her own ambitions, can their connection survive the chaos that threatens to pull them apart?

Warnings : MDNI, mentions of drugs, angst, mentions of shooting, confusion, flufffffff

The morning light streamed through the windows of the bridal studio as I unlocked the door, stepping into the familiar sight of lace and silk. It was a quiet Saturday morning after my date with Chris, and the shop felt like a sanctuary from the whirlwind of emotions swirling through my mind since last night. I flicked on the lights, the soft glow illuminating the rows of white gowns hanging in neat lines. Saturdays were always busy, especially with brides coming in for final fittings, but today felt like it would be a bit harder since there was a heavy weight in my chest that I couldn’t seem to lift.

As I settled behind the counter, I turned on the small radio, keeping my normal routine. Soft music played for a few moments before the news interrupted.

“Breaking news this morning: Boston police are investigating two separate shootings that occurred last night. One incident took place in Somerville, while the other was in the South End area. No fatalities have been reported, but authorities believe both incidents may be gang related. More updates to follow.”

I paused, my fingers freezing over the appointment book. Two shootings? I felt a chill run down my spine as I listened. How awful it was that violence like this was so common here the last few years, and how easily lives could be shattered overnight. The mention of gangs tugged at something deep within me - a sense of unease I had been trying to push away since Chris abruptly left last night. I shook my head, trying to refocus, but it lingered like a shadow at the back of my mind.

I went through the motions of my day, greeting brides and their families with the same professional smile, but my thoughts kept drifting. The night before had left me feeling.. off.. and heavily single. Chris and I had started the date on such a high, but the way he left so suddenly, without really explaining much, left me with a sinking feeling. It wasn’t just disappointment, it was confusion, too. Was I the only one catching feelings? It made me feel fucking stupid.

After my shift ended, I headed home, my legs heavy with exhaustion. As soon as I walked through my bedroom door and threw myself on my bed, my phone buzzed. I glanced at it, expecting a message from Willow, and sure enough, her name lit up my screen.

Willow: “Hey girl! There’s a party at Tyler’s tomorrow night. You should totally come! And see if Chris wants to join ;) Maybe ask him to bring along a certain friend too..”

I sighed, dropping my phone on my bed. A party. Part of me wanted to go and let loose, but the other part was still tangled up in confusion about Chris. I hadn’t gotten the chance to fill Willow in on it yet. Was I being ridiculous for feeling this way after one date? I barely knew him now.. he wasn’t the same Chris I’d remembered from my teenage years. He was more.. closed off, like there were parts of his life he couldn’t or wouldn’t let me see. The uncertainty of it all scared me.

I told myself I’d wait a bit to reply to Willow. As I was about to set my phone down, it buzzed again.

Chris: “Check your tree house.”

I blinked, confused. What could he possibly mean? I pushed myself off of my bed and stepped toward the balcony door, pushing it open as the cool evening air washed over me. My gaze shifted to the old tree house in the backyard, a relic of someone’s childhood that hadn’t seen much use in years. With curiosity tugging at me, I slipped outside, my heart racing as I looked across into the tree house window that was now illuminated inside.

I stopped once my eyes fixated on what was inside, my breath catching in my throat.

The tree house was transformed. There were fairy lights hung around the edges of the roof, blankets and pillows spread across the floor, pizza boxes neatly stacked in the corner, a bouquet of wildflowers lying on top. It was perfect in a way I hadn’t expected, a small slice of warmth tucked away from the world.

I looked down from the treehouse and there, standing at the base of the tree, was Chris. His eyes met mine, a small smile playing on his lips as he waved.

"Hey," he called up softly. "Mind if I join you?"

I couldn’t help but smile back, my heart doing a strange little flip. “Get up here,” I laughed.

Chris climbed up with ease, as I climbed in through the window, his movements smooth and confident as he settled next to me. He glanced around at the setup, his expression a little sheepish. I laughed, warmth spreading through me. "This is really sweet, Chris. You didn’t have to do all this."

"I wanted to" he said, his eyes meeting mine in that deep, sincere way that made my heart skip. “I wanted to make up for last night” he said quietly. “I’m sorry about the way things went.. I really didn’t want to leave like that.. I felt like I messed up, and I don’t want you to feel like... I don’t care. Because I do."

I studied him for a moment, trying to find the right words. “It’s okay” I replied, though a part of me had been hurt. “I was just.. a little confused. I thought we were having a good time, and then you had to go so suddenly.”

Chris nodded, his face full of regret. “I know. I didn’t plan for it to go that way. But I really did enjoy our date, and I wanted to make it up to you with something a little more.. private.” He gestured to the tree house, the pizza, the flowers. “I figured this was a good place to start.”

I smiled, warmth spreading through me. “It’s perfect.”

We sat there for a while, sharing slices of pizza and talking. It was so easy to fall into conversation with him. Every now and then, I’d catch him looking at me with that same intensity I remembered from years ago, only now, it was deeper, more meaningful. It was like he was seeing me, really seeing me, for the first time. I had to admit, I liked the way it made me feel.

"You know" Chris said, his tone becoming a bit more serious, "when we were younger... I always thought you were going to do something amazing, I was always in awe of you."

I raised an eyebrow, surprised. "Really?"

He nodded. "Yeah. You were always so determined, so driven. I mean, you seem to really be doing things for yourself Y/n."

I couldn’t help but notice the way his eyes softened when he looked at me, and the way he seemed genuinely interested in me. It made me feel seen, like he really cared. And as much as I didn’t want to admit it, I was scared. Scared because I could feel myself falling for him. Fast.

We kept talking, the hours slipping by as we shared stories, hopes, and dreams. The conversation flowed easily, and before I knew it, it was near midnight, and a cool breeze had started to creep into the air.

I shivered slightly, and Chris noticed immediately. "You’re cold" he said, concern flashing in his eyes.

"A little" I admitted, hugging the blanket around myself.

He glanced toward my house, then back at me. "Do you want to go inside? I mean, if you’re okay with that."

I hesitated for a second, but then nodded. "Yeah. My parents are still away, so.. there’s no issue."

We climbed out the tree house window, making our way back inside through the balcony door. The warmth of my room wrapped around us, and I gestured for him to make himself comfortable. Chris settled onto the edge of my bed, his eyes scanning the room before landing back on me.

"This is nice" he said, smiling softly.

I sat beside him, my heart racing a little faster now that we were inside. The atmosphere was different – more intimate, more charged. And yet, there was a sense of comfort that made me feel safe. Chris shifted closer, and I could feel the warmth radiating from him as he gently took my hand in his.

“This place is exactly how I imagined it would be” he said, a playful smile tugging at his lips.

“What do you mean?” I asked, tilting my head in curiosity.

Chris chuckled softly, sitting down on the edge of my bed. “I don’t know.. It just feels like you. Neat, organised, but with a little bit of chaos thrown in.” He nodded toward my cluttered desk, where textbooks and random papers were strewn about. “Like that.”

I rolled my eyes, laughing as I sat down next to him. “Hey, I’m busy! College life is no joke.”

He grinned. “I know. And I still can’t believe you’re studying law.”

I felt my cheeks warm at the compliment, but his tone had a hint of something else – something more uncertain. “What?” I asked, studying his face. “You don’t think I can handle it?”

“No, that’s not it” he said quickly. “I just.. I don’t know. It’s a lot. A lawyer and a guy like me?” He let out a nervous chuckle. “That’s one hell of a combo.”

I nudged him playfully. “A guy like you?” I repeated, teasing. “You’re not giving yourself enough credit, Chris.”

He looked at me for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then he sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly. “Maybe.”

Before I could respond, his phone buzzed in his pocket, breaking the moment. He pulled it out, glancing at the screen for a split second before putting it back without replying. The name had flashed across the screen too quickly for me to see, but there was something about the way he ignored it that made my stomach churn. Was it another girl? 

“Everything okay?” I asked, trying to keep my tone light.

Chris hesitated for a beat, then smiled. “Yeah, everything’s fine.”

But I couldn’t shake the feeling that it wasn’t, maybe I’m overthinking.. There’s no way he’d do all of that if there was another girl in the picture.

Chris’s hand was still held in mine and I could see the steady rise and fall of his chest. His presence felt so calming, yet there was this underlying tension, a kind of electricity I couldn't quite ignore.

I shifted slightly to face him, our eyes meeting. For a second, we just stared at each other, as if both of us were trying to figure out what the other was thinking. His gaze dropped briefly to my lips, and I could feel my heartbeat quicken.

“Chris..” I started, not even sure where I was going with it, but his name felt like the only thing I could say in that moment.

He leaned in a little closer, his hand gently finding its way to my cheek, his thumb lightly brushing my skin. The touch sent a wave of warmth through me, and I instinctively leaned into it.

“I’m really glad we reconnected.” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. His eyes were so sincere, so full of something I hadn’t expected to see – vulnerability.

I felt the same vulnerability rising in me, too. “Me too” I whispered back, and before I could say anything more, he closed the small gap between us.

His lips met mine gently, testing at first, almost hesitant. But when I responded, pressing back into him, it was like something clicked between us. The kiss deepened, his hand moving from my cheek to the back of my neck, pulling me in closer. I could feel my heart racing, but this time it wasn’t out of nervousness or fear. It was because this felt right.

For a moment, everything else melted away. The awkwardness of the previous night, the confusion I had felt.. all of it disappeared as the kiss continued, soft yet filled with an undeniable intensity. It was like we’d been waiting for this moment for years, and now that it was here, neither of us wanted to let go.

When we finally pulled apart, both of us were breathless, our foreheads resting against each other. I could feel his warm breath on my skin, and I smiled softly, my lips still tingling from the kiss.

“That..” I began, still trying to catch my breath, “was.. unexpected.”

Chris chuckled lightly, his hand still gently holding the back of my neck. “Yeah” he murmured, his voice low and husky, “but in the best way.”

I couldn’t help but agree. There was something about being here, in this moment, with him, that made everything else seem so far away, like we were the only two people in the world.

Before I could second-guess myself, I looked up at him and smiled. "There’s a party tomorrow night, Willow invited me.. do you want to come? She said you could bring Nate too if you’d like"

Chris smiled, his eyes lighting up in that familiar, charming way. "I’d love to. I’m sure Nate would too."

For the rest of the night, we stayed close, talking in whispers, sharing more smiles, more laughs and even a few more kisses. It was like we were stepping into something new together, something unspoken but full of possibility.

The nervousness I had felt earlier about catching feelings seemed to evaporate, replaced with something even scarier – hope. Maybe, just maybe, this thing between us could actually work.

a/n: are things going to work out???

taglist: @mattybearnard @sturn-33 @ncm9696 @yourfavsturniologirl @crazy4jewel @sodakid1234 @stupendoustreewinner @lovealwayssturniolos @matthewsturniolosss @m4ttsmunch @loveexxx @ilusa @starkeyszn @wonnieeluvvr @dylnblue @valxrieq @maggot3647 @cigarettecemetary @ribread03 @chrisstvrns @bandasaruswrx @noplaceissafeanymore @amexiass @witchofthehour @mattssgf @jetaimevous @v33angel @ivysturnss @urmom69lol @ashlishes @watercolorskyy @sturnioloshottiekay @amelia-sturniolo3 @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @pvssychicken @alizestvrnss @lvrsturniolo @slutniolo @spaghetti835928383 @marrykisskilled @sturnsxplr-25 @bxtchboy69 @vickytaa @anikaistg @matts-girlfriend

[charliemwrites]

Three to Flee

Commission from the very sweet @ignoreprotocol

Someone leaves the door open and the pets get out.

Content Warning: Established kidnapping situation, unhealthy relationships, collaring

Author's Note: This does not mean Keeper/Kept is back. As far as I'm concerned, that story is finished, but this was a special case.

Shockingly, it’s not Feral that brings it up first.

The girls are having a little picnic at the edge of Johnny and Shy Thing’s yard, shaded by the tall trees. The men are chatting on the porch, sharing cigars and whiskey, far from earshot. Good behavior has earned them this bit of privacy, and so far, they’ve just used it to exchange keeper notes and offer bedroom advice.

“I can’t believe you don’t even have a fence,” Good Girl muses, glancing at the forest beyond. Her own yard is well fortified. It’s not just the sturdy, unclimbable fence, but also the monitors and floodlights connected to it.

Shy Thing sheepishly mentions a failed escape attempt several months earlier, a mad dash through the woods that ended with her dirty and disciplined. That prompts Good Girl to confess her own ill-fated getaway, a midnight attempt at sneaking out that resulted in a bruised ass.

Feral listens with her head cocked, nibbling at her apple slices. When their eyes turn to her, she shrugs.

“I haven’t tried to leave in a while,” she admits, “but I don’t think it would go well.”

Good Girl frowns. “How do you know if you haven’t tried?”

Feral snorts. “You’ve met Simon, haven’t you?”

All eyes turn to the boys on the porch. And there’s Simon, watching. Feral makes a rude gesture his way and they can see his shoulders shaking with a chuckle.

“Besides… it’s not so bad,” she muses. “Most of the time.”

Good Girl sits back, expression twisting. “I don’t want it to be ‘not so bad,’ I want it to be good. And I want it that way all the time.”

Shy Thing shifts. “What’s so wrong with John…?”

Good Girl huffs and begins picking at threads in the blanket. “He’s… fine. I mean, he would be if I could just leave. Don’t you miss being free?”

Feral hums.

“I… I miss going to the store when I wanted… or just… walking around town,” Shy Thing admits slowly. “I miss coffee shops and parks.”

Good Girl groans in agreement. “I miss the internet. It’s like being a fucking teenager again, having all my activity monitored.”

With a little more momentum now, Shy Things continues, “I haven’t been alone in months. Just… by myself. Doing whatever I want.”

“And not having rules,” Good Girl adds, sipping at the mojito John put in a little travel cup for her. “Fucking… sick of having a bedtime and chores and a fucking collar. Aren’t you sick of it?”

It’s directed at both of them, but Shy Thing nods, hands fidgeting.

“It gets to be a lot sometimes,” she mumbles, “I think I warmed up to Johnny out of pure exhaustion.”

Good Girl huffs again, worked into a proper fuss now. “And they’re so smug about it. Like we’re just these good, trained pets.”

Feral pipes up, “We could leave together.”

Both girls swivel to her with varying degrees of shock, hope, and disbelief.

“You said you didn’t think you could get past Simon,” Good Girl says.

Feral snorts and stretches out on her stomach in a mottled patch of sunlight creeping through the leaves.

“Yeah, I couldn’t on my own,” she explains, “but between the three of us…”

It’s uncomfortably simple when it happens. They just need to wait until the next big mission.

All three of them beg (or in Feral’s case, demand) to spend that time together while the keepers are away. It’s not unusual for the creatures to meet up when one or more of the men are gone. With all three off on a mission this time, they sniffle about being lonely and wanting company. That their houses feel too big and empty, that cooking for one is depressing.

Johnny caves instantly; John agrees on the stipulation that Good Girl is on her best behavior before he leaves. Simon, of course, is a foregone conclusion.

They go to Simon’s house. It’s the safest of the three homes and has the most space. Not to mention the girls will have some sort of access to the outside with the enclosed sunporch.

On the day of the mission, Good Girl and Shy Thing show up with fully packed bags, ready for their extended “sleepover” with Feral. The pets see their boys off, behave as normal for the cameras until Shy Thing gets the “heading out” message from Johnny. That’s the greenlight.

Feral has her own bag of things that she packs quickly and expertly. They fill a fourth bag with nonperishable provisions, just in case. Each of them has cash that they filched last minute from their keepers’ wallets – knowing they wouldn’t check them just before a classified mission.

The girls know it’ll be a day or two before anyone checks on them. Even Kyle is away with the team this time.

And then it all comes down to walking out the door.

The front door is, of course, locked. All the windows have alarms on them, and so does the garage door. But the sunporch…

“He didn’t lock the door,” Feral realizes as it swings open. And the alarm only engages when it’s locked.

All three of them take a single step out into the open air. And stop. Stare at each other a little moon-eyed.

They just left.

They stride at a quick clip around the side of the house and down the road. It’ll be an hour-long walk into town, but they have thick coats and each other for company. They chatter as they follow the pavement, just within the tree line out of caution. Pretend its giddy celebration at their escape and not a distraction from the creeping mix of dread and uncertainty beginning to simmer within each of them.

When they reach town, they blend into the crowds, weaving through the streets until they find a low-end hotel. It won’t be anything fancy, but at least it seems clean enough. Good Girl does all the talking with the receptionist (also a lady, thank god) since Feral and Shy Thing are jittery from so many people. They get a one-bed room with easy access to the fire exit.

 It’s only after they’re inside that reality sinks its claws in.

They’re free. For the first time in months, they’re outside with no one standing behind their shoulders or holding their arms. No one to appease, nothing to behave for.

And Shy Thing throws up in the toilet.

“This is scary,” she wheezes, eyes watering. “I’m scared. I want—”

Though she stops, the other two know what the end of that sentence was. Good Girl rubs her back.

“Don’t worry, they’re not going to find us,” she soothes like she doesn’t know why Shy Thing is really scared.

Neither Shy Thing nor Feral reply. The answer hangs in the air, unspoken. We want them to.

Feral, feeling restless, goes back into the main room and begins rummaging through her bag.

“What are you doing?” Good Girl asks, giving Shy Thing privacy to clean up.

“Looking for something to cut that off with.” Feral nods to Good Girl’s collar. “It’s probably chipped or something. We should have taken it off at home.”

She stops as the blood drains from her fellow creature’s face. They stare at each other across the tiny motel room, the weight of their successful plan pressing heavier and heavier with each passing second.

“I…” Good Girl rasps, “I…”

“You don’t want to.”

Her eyes well with tears. “No.”

Feral drops her bag and crumples to the ground, tugging her knees up to her chest.

“Why don’t I want to?” Good Girl whispers, curling her arms around herself. “This… this was my idea. I complain all the time. Why do I miss him already?”

Shy Thing appears in the doorway, sniffling. “I-I don’t know if I can do this. I can’t imagine life without Johnny. I… I don’t know if I want to have a life without Johnny.”

And Feral, still on the floor and trembling all over, just looks at them with huge tears running down her face.

Needless to say, when three rather miffed keepers in full combat gear throw the door open at 3am, they are not expecting armfuls of distraught creatures sobbing into their chests.

[outermaybanks]

you're the reason rafe buys drugs

a/n: listen i know people say rafe wouldn’t give head, and normally i agree but i counter with: there are two wolves inside rafe cameron; one is a selfish prick, the other is desperate for approval. 

contains: nsfw 18+ mdni. drug use. oral fem receiving. grinding bc i said so. p in v penetration. ft. switch!rafe but he’s just pussywhipped and has daddy issues (nvm i took it too far switch!rafe fr) pleasure kink? yeah i think so.

“Hey there, pretty girl,” Rafe shouted a bit, so you could hear him over the music. You turned and looked at him, dressed in khakis and a polo, you had to turn away to stop yourself from laughing in his face.

“I uh… got your favorite.”

That got your attention. You quickly whip back around, crossing your arms and raising your eyebrow. Rafe just smiled, so grateful to have your attention. He leaned down so his lips were by your ear.

“Come with me.”

You looked over your shoulder to find your girlfriends at the party, the two girls dancing on each other as a group of boys watched, then you looked back to Rafe.

“Lead the way, Cameron.”

Rafe swallowed as you reached out to put your hand on his shoulder, all he could think about was your hand sliding down his chest to his pants. Your pointed look reminded Rafe of the mission at hand and he promptly turned on his heel, leading you somewhere more quiet, which just so happened to be his bedroom.

“This is the best shit in OBX,” Rafe said, grabbing the baggie from his pocket. Only the best for his girl.

You took the opportunity to look around Rafe’s room, filled with typical teenage boy shit. You looked at him before sauntering over to sit beside him on the bed. He had a tray in his lap, ready to make some lines for you two, when you had a fun idea.

“Wanna do ‘em off me?” 

Rafe’s eyes nearly popped out of his head. “Off you, like-“

“Like off my tits,” you said so casually Rafe almost came in his pants.

“Y-Yeah-“ He cleared his throat. “Fuck yeah.”

You couldn’t fight the giggle that fell from your lips. Maybe this would be more fun than you thought.

Rafe bit his lip as he watched you pull your shirt over your head. He could already feel his cock straining against his khakis, and when you reached behind your back and suddenly your bare breasts were in front of him.

You laid down so perfectly, Rafe could’ve sworn he’d seen this in porn. 

“Well?” You tease, and Rafe didn’t want to waste another second. He swallowed the saliva forming in his mouth, then carefully poured the power from the baggie into a rough life going vertically across your right tit, right beside your perked nipple.

Rafe wet his bottom lip before palming your breast in his hand, holding you steady. His hands were big, and you liked the feeling of them. You watched carefully as he snorted up the powder, and he looked at you once more before licking the left over. You bit your lip at the feeling, a small moan falling from your lips.

Rafe felt like he was in a dream. He wanted to do whatever it took to hear that noise again.

“My turn,” you said softly, guiding him to move as you sat up. “Shirt off.”

Rafe nodded, excitedly pulling off his shirt. His enthusiasm egged you on, so you pushed him down to lie on his back and swung your leg over his lap to straddle him. You could feel his hardening erection through your shorts.

Rafe took a shaky breath as he fought the urge to rut up into you. He settled for placing his hands on your hips.

The boy beneath you couldn’t help but let out a soft hiss as you leaned forward to pour your line of coke down his sternum, your core pressing harder against him.

After you snorted your line, you mimicked Rafe’s actions and slowly licked a stripe up his chest. 

“Rafe?”

“Hm?” was all he could muster.

“Do you want to fuck me?”

Rafe swallowed again, before desperately nodding his head. You bit your lip as you started grinding against his erection.

“I’ll let you fuck me if you do what I say.”

Rafe nodded fervently, already surrendered to you.

“Take your pants off, but leave your boxers on.”

Once Rafe’s hands moved to the button on his pants, you climbed off to pull off your own shorts off, only you also pull off your panties. Once Rafe notices this, he becomes transfixed on the glistening between your lips.

“You know that trick you can teach a dog, where you put the treat on their nose but they can’t eat it yet?” You ask as you climb back up him, swinging your leg back over his lap. You could see the tent formed by his hard cock, but you didn’t dare touch him yet.

Rafe’s eyebrows furrowed but he nodded. You pushed him to lay flat on his back. 

“You’re the dog.”

You lowered yourself, causing his dick to lay against his stomach as you rolled your hips back and forth. Rafe’s hands once again found their way to your hips, but this time, his fingers dug into the flesh of your hips as he took a deep inhale. You allowed him to help guide your movements.

Small grunts and moans fell from Rafe’s lips with every roll of your hips. The wet spot left on his boxers by your wetness only spurred him on more.

You kept your eyes locked on his as you grind against his cock. Soft moans hummed in your throat as felt your desire swell.

“What do you want, Mr. Cameron?” You practically purred. Rafe wet his lips as his eyes flickered from yours to the damn fabric separating him from you.

“I want another line.”

You raised your eyebrow at him, curiously. He sat up before flipping the two of you, Rafe quickly kissed down your neck. As his mouth made its way down your body, you found yourself grinding against his knee, which was conveniently placed between your legs.

“Now who’s begging like a dog?” Rafe mumbled against your skin, before biting down softly on the flesh of your breast, causing you to let out a soft whine.

Rafe pressed his hand against you, pushing you to lie flat, and carefully poured a horizontal line across the bottom of your stomach. You ran a hand through his hair, gripping slightly as he snorted his line. You felt the familiar cool of his tongue against your flesh, but then he began kissing further down, lowering his body before licking a stripe up your aching core. Your grip on his hair tightened as a pleased moan fell from you.

Rafe took this as encouragement and slid his tongue up and down as his lips attached to your clit, and finally he got the delicious moans he craved from you. 

“Mmm yeah, right there, Rafe, just like that.”

Rafe buried his face deeper into your core, lifting your legs onto his shoulders. 

“You taste so fucking good, y/n,” He said when he came up for a breath before promptly going back to the task at hand. His eyes were glued to your face, drinking up the sight of you twisted with pleasure.

“Fuck, you’re such a good boy.”

Those were the magic words to him. 

He slid his tongue inside you, lapping at the juices before he began fucking you with his tongue.

“Mmm! Fuck, I’m close Rafe, I’m so fucking close.”

His fingers gripped you tighter, pulling you impossibly closer. Meanwhile, your fingers dug deeper into his hair, pushing his face down, trying to grind against his tongue.

You came with a gasp, then a moan, before his name fell from your lips repeatedly with quick breaths. God it was music to Rafe’s ears.

Your legs fell limp as you panted, your body practically vibrating as you came down. But Rafe was still chasing release, and he was running out of patience.

“You can handle another one, can’t you, baby?”

Your eyes were half lidded, already drunk off your first orgasm, but you were greedy, you wanted more. You nodded and opened your legs for him, and Rafe wasted no time kneeling in front of you before pulling you closer. 

Your head fell back in anticipation as you felt his tip slide through your lips.

“Tell me you want it.”

You looked at him through your lashes, then your eyes fell to his pretty cock, all pink and needy, already leaking with precum. You bit your lip before reaching down between your bodies to wrap your fingers around his cock. You kept your eyes on him as your hand stroked him, then you lined him up at your entrance.

“Be a good boy and fuck me, Rafe.”

In one movement he slid all the way inside of you, causing your eyes to roll back at the sweet stretch. Rafe had lost the desire to be unselfish, immediately thrusting into you. Your body was still buzzing from your first orgasm, and with each movement of his hips you could feel the tension building back up in your stomach.

“Fuck, you feel so fucking good, baby. Knew you would. Knew this was the perfect pussy for me.”

You moaned at his words, pushing your hips up so he could reach a better angle that made your eyes close as you tried to keep focus.

Rafe’s hands slid from your hips to your waist, lifting you to arch your back as he thrusted up into you, the pleasure causing your head to fall back, practically going limp in his arms as your  second orgasms rolled through you. Seeing you unraveling from his cock was what pushed Rafe over the edge, his warm cum shooting inside you, a low grunt leaving his throat as he finished.

You were too blissed out to move, but Rafe held you still while he caught his breath, then he leaned down, resting his head against yours before pressing his lips to yours, and you realized, that was the first time you had done that. You brought your hand up to his cheek, pulling him closer.

When you pulled away, Rafe swallowed as he took in the sight of what you two had done, then without a word he got up, and went into his bathroom attached to the room, returning with a washcloth to clean you with, and one of his shirts.

“What’s this?” you asked, holding up the shirt.

“To sleep. You’re staying the night,” Rafe answered nonchalantly as he pulled on a pair of sweats, making your eyebrows knit together.

“Where are you going?” 

“To kick everyone out of my fucking house.”

©outermaybanks 2024

[storm-angel989]

Omg do you know the Valentino x reader period pains thing can you do that but with vox's teenage daughter like how would he react straight panic. Most men in the 50's didn't know anything really about period cramps or periods in general. So he probably not know much besides what Vel talks about. I can imagine him doing the wtf which one do I get her in the store thing so he buys everything lol.

Another super fun request! Enjoy!

Vox stared at the shelves in a mixture of embarrassment and confusion. His gaze fell from the shelves to the list, and back again. So many colors, and why was one woman playing volleyball? He cursed himself for not simply putting Velvette’s requests on the list and pushing it off. How was he supposed to know this could happen in the middle of the night?

“Dad? Dad, I need help. I think I’m dying.” 

Vox had heard his daughter's voice from across his bedroom. He instantly sat up and turned on the bedside light, swung his legs over the side of the bed and hurried to her. 

“What’s the matter baby?” He asked frantically. 

“My belly hurts, and I’m bleeding,” she sobbed. “Daddy, what’s wrong with me?”

He felt a cold chill and sheer panic settle through him as he noticed the bright red stains on her pajama pants. No, she couldn’t be. She couldn’t have her period already, right? She was only thirteen. God, he was so not ready for this. 

“You’re not dying babydoll, come on. We need to go see your Aunt Velvette,” he said as calmly as he could. “Come on now, follow me.” He put a hand on her shoulder and guided her down the hallway. He pounded on Velvette’s door. “Vel? Vel get up! We need you!”

He heard frantic footsteps and the door swung open.

“Vox you better have a damn good reason to-”  Velvette cut herself off mid sentence at the sight of reader. “Oh. Yep, that’s a good reason. Come in honey, go to my bathroom. I need to talk to your dad for a moment. You’re okay, I promise.” 

Vox watched as his daughter walked across the room and vanished behind closed doors. He turned to Velvette, who was scribbling something down on a pad of paper. 

“Vel, you still good to handle this?” He asked cautiously. “I just-”

“Vox, it's the middle of the night. I told you ages ago to have housekeeping order the supplies she needs and you put it off. Now you need to go to the store yourself while I convince sweet reader she isn’t about to kick the bucket,” Velvette grumbled as she ripped the paper off the pad and handed it to Vox. “Everything you need is on that list. You’re going to have to go out and buy it right now.”

Vox felt himself flush with embarrassment. This was a female issue- it shouldn’t involve him. 

Velvette gave him a look. “If you had listened to me in the first place, we wouldn’t be in this situation would we? Now shoo.” 

Now here he stood, with a list of what he firmly believed were made up words. What exactly was a “tampon” anyway? Or a “thin panty liner”?

“Excuse me sir, do you need any help?” A cheerful voice came from behind him.

Vox whirled around. He could feel his face turn even more red as he thrust the list towards the unsuspecting sales girl.

“I..I need these. I mean, I don’t need them. My daughter needs them. I just…”

The sales girl seemed unphased. “How old is your daughter?”

“Thirteen.”

“Okay! She needs this, and this, and this…” she loaded the items into his cart. “Easy enough! Extra chocolate too, might be a nice thing to do.”

Vox could only nod and add an extra bar of chocolate to the cart. To his relief, she packaged everything up in discrete brown paper bags. As he swiped his card, he wondered why such a necessary product was priced so ridiculously high. 

When he got back to the apartment, he knocked on Velvette’s door. She stuck her head out and took the bags. 

“I woke up Val and he’s making hot cocoa. We’ll join you two in a few minutes. Now shoo.” She slammed the door in his face. 

Vox resigned himself to the kitchen. He took a seat at the table and buried his attention in his phone as Valentino stood at the stove in his pajamas, stirring the hot chocolate pot. 

“How are you, amicito?” He asked. “Big day for our little princessa.”

Vox groaned. “Can we not talk about it?”

“I think you need to get with the times. Your little girl needs you,” Valentino replied easily. “So get over yourself.”

Vox raised an eyebrow and looked over to him. “You’re not freaked out about this?”

Valentino shrugged. “Why should I be? Our little girl is simply growing up. If you treat her like the plague she will feel shame- and that’s the last thing we want, right?”

Vox considered. He hadn’t thought about it that way, how his reaction to what was admittedly a natural event, might affect her. 

“Do you think she knows I’m…”

Valentino cut him off. “I think you did just the right thing, bringing her to Vel.”

“Here she is!” Velvette’s voice called through the kitchen. “Officially a young lady!”

Reader flushed and looked down. “Not…it’s not that big a deal I guess.”

“Oh, baby princessa, it is.” Valentino said as he ladeled the hot chocolate into a mug and added whipped cream. “The heating pad is all set on the couch. Remote is yours.” 

“Thanks Uncle Val,” she mumbled as she made her way out to the living room. 

“What’s wrong with her?” Vox asked with concern. 

Both Valentino and Velvette looked at him with a mix of annoyance and shock. From the living room, the television blared top volume. All three recognized the theme to her favorite show. 

“She hurts, she’s bleeding for the first time and she’s embarrassed about it,” Velvette answered. “Even though I told her there was nothing to be ashamed of. It’s normal.”

“So, what do I do?” Vox asked. “How do I help her?”

“You love her, and give her chocolate and give her a bit of grace if she’s crabby. Her hormones are all over the place,” Velvette replied. “And for god sake, get over yourself.”

Vox winced. He didn’t want to think about his daughter having hormones, or growing up. He knew it was a fact of life, but what he wouldn’t give to be unaware of it. Valentino handed him a cup of cocoa and he took a sip. He watched as Velvette flopped down on the couch next to his daughter. 

“She’s going to grow up, Vox. You can’t stop it,” Valentino warned. 

“I know I can’t,” Vox replied tiredly. “But I’m not ready to lose my little girl.”

Valentino gave him an irritated look. “What are you talking about? She’s still your little girl- she always will be. And right now she needs her family to support her,” he replied as he turned and left the kitchen. 

Vox sighed as he watched Val collapse on the other side of the couch. He could barely make out their chatter. After a moment, he stood up and joined them and took the seat next to reader. Concern flooded his face as he looked at his daughter. She looked pale, paler than usual. 

“How are you feeling, babygirl?” He asked. He reached over and brushed the hair out of her eyes, the palm of his hand lingering on her forehead for a moment. Was it him, or did she feel warm?

“I’m okay, Daddy, just tired,” she replied quietly. “My tummy hurts. Can I go to bed?”

“Of course you can, princess,” he replied as he pulled his hand away. “I’ll be in to check on you in a bit.” 

She climbed off the couch and wrapped him in a hug. “Night night, Daddy.”

“Goodnight baby.” He replied. 

She did the same with Valentino and Velvette before trudging back to her room. He heard the door close and looked to Velvette. 

“She felt warm, is that normal?”

Velvette rolled her eyes. “You know what? Figure it out on your own. I’m going to bed.”

“Not a bad idea to do some research, amicito,” Valentino added as he stood up. “If nothing more than to help our little princessa.” 

Vox watched them both retreat back to their rooms before shutting off the lights and returning to his own bed. He pulled out his phone and hesitated for just a moment. Breaking free of the ideas that he had been so held to in life was uncomfortable to say the least. But at the same time, he felt he owed it to his little girl to at least try to understand what she was going through. And he was willing to do whatever was necessary to make sure he was the best dad he could be.

Even if it meant figuring out exactly how to handle a period. 

[thenickgirl]

nick after aaliyahs first breakup

type: blurb (?) ✩ genre: fluff/comfort ✩ pov: third ✩ word count: 1k

summary: Nick consoles his daughter Aliyah after a breakup

warnings: swearing, a minor swearing, mentions of cheating, use of nicknames/pet names

a/n: a little blurb for my dad!nick au. saurrr i honestly don’t know how long a blurb is supposed to be, and i’m sure i’ve surpassed it, but whatever. i’m so obsessed with the thought of dad nick that i just couldn’t stop writing. anyways, happy reading! ✩

‘And maybe I’ll get used to it

But right now, I just feel like shit’

The family of three sat around the dinner table; Nick, his husband, and their 16 year old daughter, Aliyah.

The pair talked about their day as they always do at dinner, but they began to notice that Aliyah was awfully quiet tonight. Nick was the first to notice, never missing a beat when it comes to his baby girl. He glances over at his husband, who just shrugs, before gently placing a hand on her shoulder, “Liyah, you okay, bunny?” he spoke to her softly.

The young girl didn’t budge, pushing a few grains of rice back and forth on her plate with her fork, too lost in her own thoughts to hear her father trying to get her attention.

“Liyah Jade?” he spoke again, this time a little louder.

“Huh?” the brunette girl snaps out of her thoughts.

“Is everything okay?” the taller man sitting across from her finally spoke up.

“Um, yeah…” Aliyah starts, “Actually, I'm not really hungry. Can I just go to bed?” she asks, her eyes darting between both of theirs, praying they wouldn’t suspect anything.

“But it’s taco night, you love tacos. Are you sure you’re okay? Are you sick, honey?” Nick rambles, reaching his hand up to feel her forehead.

“Dad, please, I’m fine. I just wanna go to bed,” she says, pulling away from his touch, and Nick just nods in approval, taking her plate and wrapping it. The young girl gets up, sauntering to her room. Moments later they hear her bedroom door slam.

“You buying this?” Nick turns to his spouse, his brows raised.

“Not even a little bit. Smells like boy trouble,” the man replies, sighing deeply.

“Shit,” Nick mumbles under his breath.

The pair continued their dinner, as concern lingered in the air about their teenage daughter.

*time skip*

“Knock Knock,” Nick says, peeking his head into his daughter's room.

“Come in,” Aliyah replies weakly, having been crying for the past hour.

She manages to quickly wipe her face clean of tears as he enters. The somber girl was sat Indian style in the middle of her bed, her back pressed against the headboard. Nick approached the queen sized bed, also sitting Indian style in front of her. He takes in her appearance, her hair tossed in a messy bun, instead of the neat french braids she usually wore to bed. Her once bright blue eyes now red, and her lips swollen. His heart ached, wondering what’s got his sweet little girl so down.

“You know you can talk to me, right? No matter what it is,” Nick encourages, and she pulls her knees up to her chest, her arms wrapping around herself for comfort as the tears begin to fall again.

“Oh, Liyah…” Nick says breathlessly, getting up and settling beside his daughter, holding her small frame close to his, and she immediately sobs into his chest. He soothes her, kissing her head, gently rocking.

“What happened, baby? What’s made you so sad?” Nick asks, anxious about what she’s going to say.

“Ryan cheated on me!” Aliyah finally admits, sniffling as she sits up to face her father. Nick’s jaw clenched, and nostrils flared. He could feel his blood beginning to boil, but he knew he had to stay calm in order to console her.

“Bria told me she saw him kissing the new girl outside the gym.” She continues, and Nick looks at her, his eyebrows furrowed as he listens intently to her ramble about the events of today.

“I didn’t want to believe her at first, but she had a picture…It was him, dad! He was kissing her!” Aliyah’s voice cracks, and her father’s heart breaks.

“And when I asked him about her, he said it was nothing, and that I was overreacting. Overreacting, dad! He was kissing another fucking girl, and I’m overreacting?!” She scoffs, folding her arms across her chest.

“So, I asked if he’d rather be with her, and then he didn’t say anything and I-“ the young girl chokes on a sob, and Nick grabs her hand, squeezing it to comfort her.

“I guess it makes sense,” Aliyah trails off, “She’s so much prettier than me,” she whispers breathlessly, a single tear falling to her cheek, and Nick reaches up, wiping it away.

“First of all, you’re my daughter, so I know that’s not true.” Nick rebuttals, and the brunette girl chuckles. “Second of all, that little scrawny, musty, greasy haired, skinny jean wearing idiot didn’t deserve you in the first place.” He continues, brushing her stray hairs behind her ear.

“Boys are dumb, sweetheart, especially boys your age. Never let the stupid things they do make you start thinking differently about yourself. Honey, I know this is your first heartbreak and it sucks, and unfortunately it won’t be your last. But I can promise you, he’s going to be the one crying soon enough. You’re beautiful, smart, funny, creative, and talented. All great qualities you got from me.” He says nudging her arm, and she laughs.

“Oh dad, so modest,” Aliyah teases sarcastically before giggling.

“I’m serious, you’re fucking awesome, kid!” Nick chuckles. “Years ago you couldn’t have paid me to be a dad. But now, you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. To this family.” Nick admits, draping his arm around her shoulder, leaning his head against hers.

“I love you, thank you, dad. You always know how to make me feel better.” Aliyah beams, wrapping her arms around him in a tight hug, inhaling his scent, finding comfort in his warmth.

“That’s what I’m here for, bunny. You can always talk to me, or dad about anything. I mean it, whatever it is. I'll always be there for you. I love you so much, baby girl.” He says, rubbing her back softly, as they sat in silence for a moment.

“Daddy?” the girl mumbles against his shoulder.

“Hm?” Nick hums, still holding her.

“Can I have my tacos now?” Aliyah mumbles again, and Nick laughs, pulling away to look at her.

“Girl! I fucking knew you wanted those tacos! Come on.”

*time skip*

“So?” the taller framed man utters, as Nick stomps into their shared bedroom.

“I’m gonna kill that son of a bitch, Ryan!” Nick huffs, before continuing, “He fucking cheated on her, babe, MY…I mean, our baby girl.” Nick scoffs, as he paces the floor, mumbling obscenities under his breath.

“Well, unfortunately we can’t kill him, but we could egg his car,” the man suggests, getting up from the bed, smirking.

Nick’s lips curl into a devilish grin, “You start the car, I’ll get the eggs!”

—

✎ signed,

𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓃𝒾𝒸𝓀 𝑔𝒾𝓇𝓁 ✩

a/n: guys i’ve never written in third person before, so i’m sorry for the repetitive descriptions of the characters. i don’t actually know what i’m doing 😭

🏷️: @muwapsturniolo @mattslolita @sturnioloslvtt @asherrisrandom @freshloveee @freshloveforthefit @maliaforstvrns @emely9274 @nicksbestie @soursturniolo @dumbf2ck @ameerahsblog @sturniolossss @nicksgirlfriend

dividers by: @/adornedwithlight @/cafekitsune

[zapreportsblog]

Embracing Happiness

➥ summary: Earth-42 Miles Morales finally learns to allow himself to be happy for once

➥ pure fluff

➥ one shot

Miles Morales had carried the weight of loss on his shoulders for a long time. The untimely death of his father had left a void in his heart, casting a shadow over his life. But amidst the darkness, a glimmer of light appeared in the form of (Y/n), his girlfriend.

Miles had found solace and joy in (Y/n)'s presence. Her infectious laughter and unwavering support had breathed new life into his world, allowing him to let go of his pain and embrace happiness once again. Those closest to Miles, his mother Rio and his uncle Aaron, could see the positive impact (Y/n) had on him.

One sunny afternoon, Miles and (Y/n) sat in Miles' bedroom, engaged in a playful conversation. Their laughter filled the room, as they shared stories, dreams, and aspirations. Miles' eyes sparkled with joy as he listened to (Y/n)'s infectious enthusiasm.

As the conversation lulled, Miles turned to (Y/n), his smile softening. "You know, (Y/n), I can't help but feel so incredibly happy when I'm with you. It's like all the weight of the world disappears, and I can just be myself," he confessed, his voice filled with warmth.

(Y/n) reached out, gently placing her hand on Miles' arm. "I feel the same way, Miles. Being with you has shown me what true happiness feels like," she replied, her voice filled with love and sincerity.

Miles' eyes flickered to a photo on his desk—a picture of him with his father, Rio, and Aaron. A bittersweet feeling washed over him as he thought of his dad. He missed him dearly, but he knew his father would want him to find happiness in life.

Rio, who had been passing by the room, stopped in the doorway, a warm smile gracing her lips. She observed the tender moment between Miles and (Y/n), her heart swelling with pride and joy. She had witnessed her son's transformation, from a grieving teenager to someone who had found happiness and love.

As the days turned into weeks, Miles' newfound happiness became apparent to everyone around him. His uncle Aaron, who had been like a second father to him, took him aside one evening. They sat on the rooftop, the city sprawled out before them.

Aaron observed Miles, his gaze filled with pride. "You've come a long way, Miles. Your father would be proud of the person you've become," he remarked, his voice filled with affection.

Miles nodded, a mixture of emotions washing over him. "Thank you, Uncle Aaron. I know he would want me to be happy, and being with (Y/n) has brought that into my life," he replied, his voice filled with gratitude.

Aaron placed a comforting hand on Miles' shoulder. "I can see that, nephew. You deserve all the happiness in the world," he said, his voice filled with sincerity.

In the following weeks, Rio also noticed the change in her son. She sat with him at the kitchen table one evening, their conversation laced with warmth and understanding. "I'm glad you found someone who makes you happy, Miles. Your father would have loved (Y/n)," she expressed, her voice filled with a mix of joy and nostalgia.

Miles smiled, his heart filled with love for his mother. "I think so too, Mom. (Y/n) brings out the best in me, and I'm grateful for her every day," he replied, his voice filled with affection.

Together, Miles, (Y/n), Rio, and Aaron formed a supportive network, celebrating each other's happiness and offering love and guidance. As Miles embraced the joy in his life, he became an inspiration to those around him—a reminder that even in the face of loss, happiness can be found.

[maximusblack-hp]

Rodrick Heffley x Male Reader

Warning:Not Beta Read

It wasn’t long before Rodrick ended up making out with the other teen. Out of all the things the other boy could have done Rodrick didn’t expect this.

Rodrick felt a tingling sensation throughout his body but then it stopped. As the other teen let him go. Rodrick felt as if all his energy was sucked out leading to him sliding onto the ground.

After being able to catch his breath for the moment the teen above leaned his head down so he was blocking the crawling from Rodrick view. They were face to face this time Rodrick had his eyes open with an expression of shock and something akin to lust.

The teen hand was on the locker to balance for support. Yet it looked as if he were dominating Rodrick’s space once more.

Rodrick may have called the teen something akin to being a stereotypical straight teen bully but I’m not so frisky words. And it seems he was wrong about it.

Instead the teen said,”if you haven’t realized I’m not as straight as you think I may be,” He made sure Rodrick was listening when he said,”I’ll happily bully you again like right now but next time let’s take it to my bedroom.”

Rodrick didn’t know what to say to that but he didn’t get to. As the other teen started walking down the hall. Not without saying,” see you around Heffley.

The teenager was planning on doing that. And he wouldn’t be surprised if Heffley decided to ignore him from now on, but damn it all. He couldn’t help himself not when Rodrick was his type. And those sleep deprived eyes just made him think of doing things to Rodrick.

He wasn’t planning on acting out on his feelings. At least not now or in the way he did.(He noticed Rodrick closed his eyes as if he was expecting to be beaten up.

Although if there was one thing that pissed him off was someone thinking he was straight. Even though he has confirmed several times he wasn’t. Just because he looked like a stereotypical teen popular doesn’t mean he was. He certainly didn’t have bad taste like others in his grade thinking someone like Heather was hot.

Not only did he find all that pink repulsive but it was most because she sucked. He didn’t see the appeal of a bratty rich girl who thought she was entitled to everything.

In another floor the teen banged his head against the wall. Starting to berate himself for kissing Rodrick Fucking Heffley. And those lips they felt softer compared to how try they looked. He was fucked he might have actually gotten an even bigger crush just from kissing his crush.

While he was berating himself Rodrick was having a slight connect the dot moment. All those posters where he thought he might have envied the musician, he might have had a crush on them instead. He didn’t know for sure. Just that he wanted to be kissed the same way again and then more.

Rodrick was like the straight ally in his band but now. He’s the not so straight ally.

And Rodrick was unaware of the fact his friends realized it years before he did. Ben, one of his friends had a perfect gaydar except he knew before others did. And he could have told Rodrick ahead of time that the guy who kissed him was definitely on the radar.

[hearts4hughes]

romantic surprises | jack hughes

jack hughes x fem! reader

a/n: not totally sure how i feel about this, but thank you anon for requesting! i can picture teenage jack watching a romcom where the boy climbs up to his lover’s window and surprises them, and being like “i need to do that!”

request: "why are you creeping outside my bedroom window?!" "i thought it would be romantic if i climbed up here," "you gave me a heart attack!" with Jack pls?

as you settle into the quiet solitude of your bedroom, the moonlight spills through the curtains, casting a gentle glow over the room. the air is still, and the only sound is the soft rustle of the night breeze. just as you begin to drift into a peaceful slumber, a noise from outside catches your attention.

with a start, you sit up in bed and listen intently. there it is again—a faint scraping sound coming from just outside your window. your heart skips a beat as your mind races to make sense of the situation. slowly, you approach the window, peering through the blinds.

to your surprise, you find jack standing there, his face flushed with anticipation, a sheepish smile playing on his lips. the shock and confusion melt away, replaced by a mixture of amusement and mild exasperation.

"why are you creeping outside my bedroom window?!" you exclaim, unable to conceal the surprise in your voice.

jack’s eyes widen momentarily, his expression shifting from excitement to realization. he takes a step back, his hands raised in a gesture of innocence.

"i thought it would be romantic if i climbed up here," he explains, his voice filled with a mix of nervousness and excitement.

you can't help but let out a nervous laugh, a mixture of relief and lingering surprise. "you gave me a heart attack!" you exclaim, trying to steady your racing heartbeat.

jack’s face softens with understanding, and he takes a step closer, his eyes filled with affection. "i’m so sorry, love. I didn't mean to startle you. I just wanted to surprise you with a romantic gesture."

you can't help but smile at his sincere words, the initial shock slowly fading away. "i appreciate the sentiment," you reply, your voice gentle but still tinged with lingering surprise. "but next time, maybe just knock on the door."

jack nods, a mix of relief and amusement flickering across his features. he takes your hand in his, his touch grounding you in the present moment.

"i promise, next time i’ll stick to more traditional methods of surprising you," he says, a playful twinkle in his eyes. "no more window climbing, i swear."

you can't help but chuckle, feeling the tension slowly dissipating. jack’s intentions were pure, even if the execution was less than perfect. you realize that in moments like these, it's the thought and effort that truly matter.

with a soft sigh, you pull jack into a warm embrace, feeling the beating of his heart against yours. as you hold each other, the incident fades into the background, replaced by the reassuring comfort of your love.

in the stillness of the night, you both find comfort in each other's arms, knowing that even unexpected surprises and startled hearts can become cherished memories. and as you drift off to sleep, you do so with a grateful heart, grateful for the imperfections that make your love story unique and beautiful.