#i gave up and wanted to go back to that gif but i could never find it again

[devosin]

— LATE NIGHTS & FLASHING LIGHTS !! prologue : keeping up with Y/n L/n . .

♡. Spotify playlist | Updates, every Friday !! — Vil Schoenheit x reader | Y/n pov . .

Your fingers glided through the screen—which was on its lowest brightness setting—skimming through the terms and conditions of your contract, noting anything that stood out, before you threw the phone aside back on the nightstand and fell back down on your bed, pulling the comforter on yourself, as you try and relax your otherwise restless brain. 

Tired shallow breaths leave your chest, your eyebags felt heavy, almost weighing you down—and the light peeking from your curtains almost caused a headache—there was this feeling that grew in the pit of your stomach that you couldn’t quite label, a mix between both nausea and the dreadful feeling of doom, and after effect of an intense hangover, that didn’t seem to go away even if you drowned it in water and pills. 

You hated it, you hated how being drunk leads you to do impulsive shit, and you hated the aftereffects making you so wary of your decisions, which only resulted in you sowing every decision you make. 

Everytime you drink, you end up regretting it, and promising yourself that you won't ever again—it’s not that you're a heavy drinker—You just don’t trust yourself, you never have, but the alcohol really does wonders in bringing those feelings of deep-rooted insecurity up to the surface. 

It’s really not your fault, it was an after party for the cast and crew in celebration of your series finalé—You didn’t do well under pressure, and when everyone around you was pushing you to take another hit and another shot . . and well saying no would have ruined the mood—You don’t regret going on your phone, and you most definitely didn’t regret emailing a response back for the hosting offer—You would’ve accepted anyways, the alcohol just gave you the push you didn’t have before. 

It still triggers your anxiety, because you’re jumping into something headfirst with nothing prepared, you haven’t done that in ages. 

You sigh, getting up from your bed, you’re clearly not going to get any sleep with this much stress, it would be best if you get some air, to calm down . . . 

You were still in your pajamas, a large winter coat and hat covering most of your features (in order to avoid paparazzi), as you made your way through the streets, your hands buried in your pockets, forming fists as you looked through your surroundings. It was early november, barely any snow to be found yet it was colder than any winter you’ve ever experienced in the city. 

It’s been four years since you moved out to the outskirts of Pyroxene, you used to live in the capital, before your acting career even started. You even attended University there, not much going on with your degree anymore though. A lot of your friends still live there, and sometimes you miss the bustling streets, the noisy cafe’s, the ability to meet up with your friends as often as you’d like, or the feeling of home—However, if there’s one thing you don’t miss, it’s the fucking traffic. 

The traffic there was hell. You still have a small private condo in the capital under your name, considering a lot of your filming jobs take place there, and it seemed like a better investment than renting a hotel room every time, and hotels generally trigger your germaphobia . . —Plus it’s a lot cheaper just renting, and convenient for last minute things also hotels in the capital are fucking expensive—and everytime you film having to drive back and fourth made you want to take a knife to your throat, but that’s not a hotel exclusive problem. 

You snapped out of your thoughts, when you heard a car horn, realizing you had walked straight into traffic. 

‘Shit.’, you ran across the street as fast as you could, and for a moment you started believing in God again, because that was a close one. 

Y/n and Navia beef because I looped "Girls so confusing" remix a lil too much and I wanted to have a friendship rebound in this because I clearly ain't getting one irl. (ew trauma dumping? in front of my yogurt/j)

I decided to double post and publish both pov's (praise me frfr/j), so you can get a grip on how things might flow?! Also creating relationships of side characters and dynamics as we move along, I want ya'll to really know these characters.

Previous chapter | Masterlist | Next chapter . .

— LATE NIGHTS & FLASHING LIGHTS !! ♡. Synopsis : VIL SCHOENHEIT recently signed a contract under Descendant. Inc for his very own late night show, only to find out his co-star and fellow co-host is none other than Y/n L/n, someone he hates despite knowing very little about them and never having met them, previously. Y/N L/N, an actor who made their debut 3 years ago and hasn’t been able to catch a break since, recently decided to sign a deal with Descendants. Inc to host their new late night show “late nights & flashing lights”, as a break from acting . . Only to find out their favorite long-time actor will be co-hosting with them. Tune in every Friday, for a new episode of “late nights & flashing lights” to see if these two hosts can find a peaceful work-bond amidst their judgements . . and quite possibly even love? . .

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© devosin , do not repost, plagiarize, translate, or adapt my work without prior permission and or confirmation.

[marril96]

Safe Haven

Chapter 2: Soft as a Smile

Pairing: Agatha Harkness x reader

Summary: After months of no contact, Agatha shows up at your door badly injured, and it’s up to you to help her.

Previous chapter.

It was Agatha's voice that shook you from the fantasy of reconciliation to the strained but steadily improving reality where she was badly injured and taking care of her was more important than daydreaming about a change in your relationship.

"Can I have a glass of water?"

"Of course!"

As if on autopilot, you leapt to your feet. You hated that you had to let go of her hands. Hated that, once again, you were the one to sever contact, however temporary it was.

The three months you'd gone without touching her had felt like an eternity.

You never wanted to part from her again.

Agatha took the glass from you with both hands. It was only then that you noticed lines, an angry red, cutting deep across her wrists. Restraints, you assumed. She must have pushed and pulled until she'd managed to get them off.

Her hands trembled, and, instinctively, you reached to help her hold the glass up to her mouth. She threw you a brief glance, embarrassed, ashamed at needing help at such a basic task as drinking water.

"It's okay," you assured her. She had nothing to be ashamed of. It was the people who did it to her that should be ashamed, though you doubted their kind was familiar with the concept.

As Agatha finished, and you laid the glass on the table beside the supplies you'd gathered for her care, you pressed a kiss to the top of her head. A wordless repetition of your words. It was okay. You were here, and you loved her; temporary weakness didn't change that.

Even if it was permanent, it wouldn't change a thing.

Powerful or not, at full strength or injured, she was your girl. She would always be your girl.

Agatha's arms shot up, a gesture you'd come to know by heart. When she wanted affection, she took it. When you needed it, she gave it to you. No words necessary.

You allowed her to pull you to her and bury her face in your stomach. Instinct prompted you to reach for her, to hold on to her, most likely too tightly considering the condition she was in, but she didn't utter a word of complaint, so you allowed yourself to get lost in the moment. To get lost in her, so fragile, so vulnerable, wrapped around you like a child in need of comfort.

You hoped you could provide it.

You hoped you would be good enough.

"I love you so much," you said, your heart brimming with it, ready to burst. "I know you don't trust me right now, and you have every right not to, but, please, trust that."

"Would I be here if I didn't trust you?" Agatha asked.

"I don't deserve it."

"Neither do I, yet here you are."

Quite a pair the two of you made. A match made in hell, some might say. As if that was a bad thing.

She knew this was the safest place for her. Not just because of the protection spell, but because you were here. She knew you wouldn't let anyone lay a hand on her. If hunters were to come knocking, you would kill them without a second thought.

For hunting her. For hurting her.

You'd killed for her before, and you would do it again in a heartbeat.

"You deserve the world," you said, and meant it; every syllable, every word. You kept on holding her, kept on pressing her to you as if to make sure that she was real. To make sure that this wasn't a dream, and you were going to wake up any moment now, cold and alone.

"I know," Agatha said with feigned arrogance, prompting you to chuckle. "Right back at you, honey."

The two of you stayed that way for a few moments, engulfed in each other, lost in the embrace you'd both been craving for all these months. Not having her with you was hell. The words you'd said to her last spinning around your head in an endless loop was an even worse one.

It was her who initiated the parting. "All right, honey, I'm digging the moment, but I need to breathe."

Though unwilling to do so, you instantly released her. "Did I hurt you?"

"Not any more than breathing does," she said in a jovial tone that you assumed she put on for your sake. "That's what happens when you get kicked in the ribs for hours. Jot it down for future reference."

Your teeth grit to the point of pain. Fists balled, nails digging into your skin.

They would die for that.

There would be blood.

"After I clean you up, I'll make you a potion." You sucked at potions, but she could guide you to doing it right.

"Don't bother. Whatever they shot me up with is blocking all magic inside me. It wouldn't do shit."

Fuck! "Then I'll be extra gentle."

"That's a first," she said with a naughty grin.

You quirked up an eyebrow. "I don't recall you complaining."

"Because I'm not."

"Then what are you doing?"

Being a little shit.

"Making small talk."

"Ah. Of course."

You missed this. The casual atmosphere, the playful banter, that pucker of her lips that you found to be the most adorable thing in the world.

It almost made you forget she had just escaped brutal torture.

One look at her face, however, was enough to remind you of the horrifying fact.

"I'll be careful, but if I hurt you, just say so and I'll stop," you said, plopping down onto a seat opposite Agatha on the couch and reaching for the rag you'd prepared.

She gave a small nod. Her eyes were on your hands, tracking your every movement. Trusting, but verifying.

Wetting the rag, you gently dabbed around her mouth. Blood slid off her skin with ease. If only it were that easy to remove the bruises. If only a piece of fabric soaked in warm water would take away her pain.

As soon as her face was clean, you moved to her wrists. She let out a hiss as the rag brushed against the thin cut, still open, still raw.

"Sorry," you said. "There's some dirt in there. I need to clean it out."

"It's fine," Agatha assured you.

She let you finish your work, first on her left wrist, and then her right one, gritting her teeth throughout. Pushing through the pain, through the clear discomfort.

"What did they want from you?" you asked in an attempt to distract her. Hunters usually killed witches on sight. As much as they hated your kind, they didn't keep you. Not even to torture you.

They had to have wanted something from her. Something she either couldn't or didn't want to give them.

"Information," Agatha said.

"About what?"

She instantly averted her eyes, focusing on you wrapping bandages around her wrists.

"We can talk when you're ready," you assured her, giving one of her hands a quick squeeze.

Whatever it was that they wanted to know, she clearly didn't feel like talking to you about it. Not yet, anyway.

The last thing you wanted to do was pressure her.

After what she'd been through, it was a wonder she allowed you to bring it up at all. Especially as the mere act of talking — of breathing, of living — brought her pain.

Agatha took in a big breath, face contorting with pain as she did so, then said, "They knew there were two of us."

You frowned, confused. "What do you mean?"

"They wanted me to tell them where my, quote, companion was."

Oh.

Oh.

Blood ran cold in your veins as the realization set in.

The hunters hadn't just wanted Agatha — they had wanted you, as well.

It was a well known fact that the two of you were a package deal. Where there was one, the other was nearby.

Why kill only one witch when they could kill two?

They must have heard rumors, or been filled in by the witch they'd had on payroll, about Agatha's traitorous tendencies. They must have thought she would give up your location; maybe not right away, but with the right incentive, under the right amount of pain, everyone was bound to crack. Especially the most infamous witch of all.

They didn't know Agatha at all.

She was many things, plenty of them bad, but when she loved someone, she was all in. She had a heart, a big one, and it loved as fiercely as everyone else's; even more so. She may not show it to the outside world, but it was there. You felt it in every pet name she uttered, in every touch of her hand. In every gesture, no matter how insignificant it appeared at first. Even during your worst arguments, that heart cherished you.

You'd never felt truly loved until you'd met her.

She'd made sure you would feel it every single day.

When she said she could go for two weeks instead of two days, she meant it. Because she had something — someone — to protect. She'd let them hit her, kick her, torture her; if she hadn't managed to escape, she would've still been there, silent as a mouse, gritting her teeth through each blow.

All so you wouldn't have to.

Agatha raised a finger in warning. "Before you go all, 'Oh, no'—" she put on a mock voice that was supposed to be a rendition of yours — and it was, an almost uncanny one, which you found mildly offensive, "—in that sad little voice of yours, remember that it was my decision not to tell them anything. And I would do it again if I had to."

In other words, don't feel bad about it. She'd chosen to protect you at the cost of her own wellbeing.

She'd put you first once, and she would do so again.

Your eyes burned with welling tears. "I was so awful to you."

Agatha shrugged. "Just because you said some… unsavory things doesn't mean I want you to die."

What you'd said was beyond unsavory. It was cruel. Borderline sadistic.

"You could've died," you pointed out.

"Honey, I was dead as soon as they captured me. Well, I should've been," she said nonchalantly, as if she were talking about the weather. "I didn't see the point of dragging you into it."

Yet you'd called her selfish. Had said she didn't care about you, that she'd loved power more than you. That you'd never felt loved by her.

God, you were a bitch.

Gently, you picked up her hand and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. "Is there anything I can do?"

"About those shitheads? You can watch me kill them when I get my power back." She smirked. "You love that."

There was something attractive about her draining witches dry. When she would kiss you after, she would be brimming with magic, new and electric. Ecstatic. It gave your heart the zoomies.

"I do," you confirmed, allowing your lips to curl into a smile, "but, I mean, to make things right between us."

Agatha sighed. She reached out, and you instinctively went to her, kneeling down by her seated form. As soon as her hands cupped your cheeks, your eyes fell closed. How you missed her touch, so tender, so sweet. So loving. Yet another proof of the lies your insults spewed.

Every time she touched you like this, she was telling you she loved you. Without a single word uttered, you knew she felt it, and she made sure you felt it just as intensely, just as fiercely.

How could you say she never loved you? How could you say you'd never felt it?

"You want us to be okay?" she asked.

You gave a nod, a tiny, timid one. "Yeah."

"Then we're okay."

You stared. "Just like that?" Surely, there had to be more to it. She couldn't just forgive you.

"Do you want me to be angry at you?" Agatha asked.

Yes, you did. You wanted her to be absolutely pissed. You wanted her to throw things, or blow something up, or scream at the top of her lungs like she usually did when she was mad.

You wanted her to do to you what you'd done to her.

"Agatha, I hurt you." A tear, two, three slid down your face, the memories of the things you'd said stabbing at you like knives. "Hurt me back."

"Why?" she demanded.

Because you'd hurt her first. "Because I deserve it."

"No, you don't." Her fingers rubbed your cheeks. Wiped your tears. "Someone else would, but not you. Never you."

"Why not?"

"Because I love you. Because I know you." Then, reluctantly, she added, "Because I hurt you first."

Right.

The reason the entire argument had erupted in the first place.

Agatha had forgotten your anniversary, having busied herself draining a — honestly, rather unimpressive — witch, while you'd waited for her at the restaurant she'd explicitly told you she would be at the day before.

You'd waited for her for over an hour like a fool. Had even started worrying that something had happened, that someone she'd slighted in the past (or the last twenty minutes; it didn't take her long to piss people off) had harmed her.

To add insult to injury, she had been the one to call you, asking where the hell you were, because she, having just absorbed some magic, was horny, and it frustrated her that you were nowhere to be found.

"I was looking forward to that dinner," you said, remembering how excited you were. How jovial. It was supposed to be one of the best nights of your lives.

It ended up being the worst.

"As was I," Agatha said. "I just thought it was supposed to take place the day after."

Right.

Forgetting things might as well be her middle name.

At least she managed to remember your birthday. She'd never failed to surprise you with a present she'd somehow know you wanted despite you not telling her a thing. She was perceptive like that.

"Of course you did," you snarked.

Agatha pouted in that way you found both adorable and sexy. "Will you let me make it up to you?"

Of course you would. "I expect something fancy."

"I wouldn't go for anything less. Who do you think I am?" she said, feigning offense.

You grinned. "It's a deal."

She blinked innocently. "So, you forgive me?"

How could you not forgive her when she looked at you like that?

How could you not forgive her when she looked like that?

Consciously or not, the injuries worked in her favor. She could punch you in the face, and you would probably find it hard to stay angry at her.

"I forgive you," you said.

There were few things in the world you could never forgive her for. Especially at this point in your relationship.

She smiled. "I really am sorry."

"I know you are."

It was a bitch move, yes, but it had only happened once. As much as it hurt, it wasn't like she had a habit of forgetting important dates.

Forgetting important things that didn't pertain to your relationship, yes. Names, dates, entire events. If she didn't find it personally significant, her brain erased it.

But something personal? Something in relation to you? Never. Those things stayed pinned at the top of her mental list.

You could forgive one blunder.

So long as she didn't make a habit of it.

*****

Tags: @werewolfbarbie @miss-moon-guardian @hermslore @uniquelesbianidiot @natashamaximoff1 @alsoknownasmel @swan-queen-is-magic @tardisesandtitans @ahintofchaos @fruityhahn @midnight-lestrange

[kikker-oma]

For you :)

Based on this piece of art:

Time woke up with a jolt, peaceful sleep warping into panic. He didn’t know why he sat up, kicking off the comfortable in blankets until he saw the red looming over the room and illuminating it. The rest of the room was dark. It had to be nighttime. He looked behind him and the moon was blood red, flakes of malice visible in the air outside. He could feel his heart pound wildly, and flashes of a moon crashing down into the earth, and being too late, and running loop after loop came to his mind. He turned back around, facing the door and the wall, seeing the shadow of the full shape of the moon and he ran out of the room, finding the bathroom because he knew it didn’t have any windows.

He closed the door and slid against it, forcing his suddenly heavy breathing to die down. The sound of a gurgling roar shook the earth and he flinched. Then he made a split decision and carefully went outside the bathroom, stepping into the bare hallway and opened the door. He inhaled the malice and coughed miserably before looking up. He couldn’t see where exactly that thundering roar had come from but he could soon see monsters returning to flesh with a magenta glow, cheering obnoxiously.

He could almost make out a grin on the moon and his blood turned to ice as he saw all the monsters appearing. He clutched his head, hoping this was all a nightmare but it wasn’t. Link wanted to run back inside more than anything, escape the moon and Termina and stop rewinding time over and over but he was frozen in the crimson glare of the large, looming object in the equally as red sky. A sob wracked his body. “Navi! Please! Come back!”

Help me, he wanted to scream at the blue fairy, as tears streamed down on his face in a seemingly relentless flow. But she wasn’t there. Neither was Tatl, who would’ve darted to his side in an instant in a worry that she would easily deflect. He buried his face in his knees, clutching them to his chest tightly, like if he’d let go he’d unravel into the ground. Flashes of a dying Zora, a dead Goron, a grief-filled Princess of the Deku Scrubs and many long dead souls rising up from the ground, as Stalfos. Flashes of a woman in denial, willing to face the end of the world if her love wouldn’t find her. Flashes of so many unaware people that would be crushed by the falling moon. His wailing echoed loud in the air.

“WATCH OUT!”

Link looked up to see Wild there, holding up a broadsword, and standing over him. His cape flew in the wind. Time realized belatedly it was no longer red out. The moon was back to normal. There were monsters snarling and sniveling in front of them…and yet Time couldn’t find the strength to get up and help. He was still shaking, and sobbing. The champion launched into battle and he yelled, “Get inside, it’s not safe out here.”

“I-I’m not leaving you,” The old man drew in a trembling deep breath and summoned the courage to stand.

Wild hesitated but gave him a nod and plunged his sword into a Lizalfos’ shoulder. Time grabbed his sword and hacked at their foes alongside the champion, and there was actually something relieving about the thrill of battle, not having to worry about any other thing than winning this small fight. When the monsters had all vanished in a puff of purple smoke, with wounds dripping black blood, all Time had was a nick on the face and all Wild had was a small bruise on his head. The old man sheathed his weapon and gave a sigh, feeling awfully tired. “I’m sorry. I should’ve been paying attention to my surroundings, and it could’ve cost my life. That’s not a burden you should’ve had to deal with. You should’ve been able to get your rest.”

“I can never sleep during blood moons,” Wild said simply. “During my journey if I let myself sleep, even up in the trees, monsters would return and find me…and they are pretty terrible. I don’t blame you, and you shouldn’t either.”

It was his fault but he couldn’t burden the champion even more. He gave a nod, slipping on a mask of stoicism, and he dipped his head. “Thank you. I’ll be upstairs, but please get something for that bruise.”

“Get something for that cut,” Wild returned, but was frowning deeply.

He left and absently bandaged his cheek where a small amount of blood had been shed. He stared out the window and forced himself to breathe, remembering the red. The face—no that wasn’t right. There wasn’t really a face in this moon. Not like Termina’s at least. He went back to bed, covering himself with the blanket and putting his head on the pillow but no matter how much he tossed and turned, he couldn’t fall back into that peaceful sleep from before.

He heard the twist of the doorknob and his door was pushed open, as quietly as possible. He saw green and blonde and a familiar face enter the room, closing the door gently behind him. The captain came over and said softly, “You’re awake.”

“Can’t sleep,” He said truthfully. “But I’ll get over it.”

“You don’t have to hide around me, Mask.”

Time sucked in the icy air, turning away. Wars put a hand on his shoulder, eyes shining with nothing but warmth. “Answer me honestly, are you okay right now?”

He took a long moment to answer before he wordlessly shook his head. The captain made a soft noise and asked quietly if he could hug him and the old man let himself be wrapped in a hug, in the scarred yet warm and wrong arms of his brother. “You don’t have to tell me why, but I want you to know I’m here if you need anything. I’d go fight the moon for you.”

Time choked on wet laughter, knowing that Wars had no idea how much that would help him. He leaned into the captain’s embrace and the restless hours of the night caught up to him. He was safe. He wasn’t alone. He let warm tears fall as he closed his eyes and soon drifted into darkness.

IM SO SORRY I HAVENT LOOKED AT MY INBOX IN AGES☠️☠️☠️

This is LOVELY!!! I love that Time in his panic goes outside and is immediately surrounded by monsters while he's having PTSD flashbacks to termina! And wild and wars helping him fight and also comfort him is so sweet❤️❤️❤️

They're brothers!!

Thank you so much Uni🥰

[bunnyinvanilla]

sugar daddy bar!owner john price series | warnings: +18, age gap (reader is 21 and price is in his 40s), fem!reader, sugar daddy/baby relationship mentioned, not smut but suggestive.

price thought a doll like you deserved a grown, strong old man like him to treat you like a princess — spoil you rotten, wrap you up in bubble wrap and take care of you. You didn’t need to work, get your pretty hands sore and tired from pouring drinks all the time. he’d give you all the money you needed to pay off your college and to get all the pink, girly things you liked so much, ribbons and all. You just needed to sit cutely on his lap, to be his, and he’d give you the whole world. He was in his 40’s, you had only recently turned 21, a flower on the prime of her blossoming youth, who could give an old, worn out man like him some sugar.

that’s why he offered you to be his sugar baby. that offer, made you flush on the spot — he was so confident and composed, unfazed by his own words. The moment he saw redness spread over you cheeks, he knew he had you. His mustache twitched, his salt and pepper beard stretched as he wore an amused, lazy smile. you were always so obedient and compliant to him, always chirping a “yes sir” to anything he’d ask or tell you to do, a sweet, young, too young lil thing, eager to earn his praise, to feel those goosebumps trail down your skin when he muttered a gruff, deep “good girl”, you’d be the perfect submissive, you’d have it in you to be trained already, even in your innocence and inexperience..

..but, you’d initially declined his offer, because “I want to earn that money, sir, and I’d feel bad if you just..gave it to me like that”

oh, how honest, naive, innocent and pure you were. He admired that about you, but you could see it in his eyes, the way he cocked his thick, dark brown brow upward, that he didn’t believe you’d cling onto those words for long. He knew you were just too shy to accept, but you wanted to. You wanted to be his pretty, little girl. and he was right, as always. One particular night, you’d found a moment to lean your arms against the wooden counter and just breath. You’d been studying all morning, head buried in your notes, and when you got to the bar, you found dozens of soon to be drunk men ready to order alcohol and ask you to bring them ashtrays.

you wanted nothing more than go back home, snuggle in your pink, soft blankets and read your so loved books — it had just been a draining day, you enjoyed your job, but to be honest with yourself, the thing you liked the most was feeling john’s attention and eyes on you during your whole shift and maybe you could finally have someone provide for you.

so, that’s how you found yourself in front of his office door, hesitating lightly while millions of tiny butterflies flew around in your chest, your cheeks as red and warm as ripe strawberries under the summer sun.

knock, knock.

he’d recognized that knock. A feeble, light thud against wood. That couldn’t possibly have been Simon, whose hand could make the whole door shatter down with a single knock, nor Soap’s — bloody hell, that man never bothered to knock at all, he’d just break in.

so he wasn’t surprised to see you, standing meekly in front of his large, wooden desk, the hem of your skirt hugging your milky, bare thighs, your fingers fidgeting together and your eyes looking down at his sitting stance, shy and timid.

“what is it, doll? need ol’ price?” his voice was so rough, so husky, you wondered how it would sound from between your thighs, or from behind you, while his large palm pulled your hair to make you arch against him.

you blinked once, gathering courage to ask for what you’d secretly been daydreaming about, your boss, old enough to be your father, aging like the finest wine, showing you things you’d never ever experienced.

“about your offer, sir” your cheeks were burning, flaming up, “if I accept, can I still come here and help you around?”

“if you accepted,” he almost didn’t even let you finish, eyes already darkening at the thought, a wave of desire rushing through his weary, battle scattered heart, “you could do whatever you wanted, angel, you’d just have to say please”

[thesparkling-diamond27]

Dancing Through Life

Fiyero Tigelaar x Reader

Summary: Y/n Upperland of the Upper Uplands, cousin to Galinda Upand, doesn’t have a problem with Fiyero Tigelaar, but that doesnt’t mean that she wants him around. However, after one simple walk with the Winkie Prince, Y/n discovers that he’s not so bad after all.

A/n: hi hi! I’m back with a Fiyero one shot, but that doesn’t mean that I’ve forgotten about the second Bridgerton and I. I’ve written two chapters so far over thanksgiving break and I might try to squeeze in one more chapter or at least half of one before I go back to school. I don’t really have enough time to write when I am at school, so the next time I’ll probably get back to writing during Christmas break which is in a couple weeks. Then I’ll finish the Bridgerton and I and I’m thinking about waiting to finish the Bridgerton and I completely before posting any more chapters, so the ff will probably be finished in December. I wrote this one shot because Wicked has been on my mind 24/7 and I can write whatever comes to mind, but for the Bridgerton and I have to sit down and rewatch Bridgerton episodes so that I can make sure I get all the words exactly right. I hope you guys continue to be patient as I try to finish it :).

I have recently seen the movie Wicked and plan to see 10 million more times because it is SO GOOD. Wicked is basically my whole personality at this point. I was already obsessed with Fiyero, but Jonathan Bailey as Fiyero made my obsession worse (but in a good way :)). And with this obsession comes a Jonathan Bailey Fiyero Tigelaar one shot. I hope you enjoy!! I also have a plan to write another one so stay tuned for that!

It was a beautiful day today, so after class I decided to read at my favorite spot: the bench under the oak tree. I loved it here because it was a peaceful place where I never got disturbed. Or so I thought.

I realized he was near when I heard the sound of boots stepping onto grass. It was only when his shadow blocked the words on the page that I finally looked up.

Fiyero looked down on me with curious eyes, but there was still a charming smile plastered on his face. I tried to hide how his smile affected me, but he must have noticed the change in my demeanor because his smile turned into a smirk.

I thought after my cousin Galinda introduced him to my brother and I earlier today would be the last time I saw him for the day. It appears the Winkie prince had other plans.

“Well what is Miss Upland doing under the oak tree?” He asked.

“Reading.” I held up my book for effect before I continued back to where I left off.

I saw him take a seat beside me on the bench in the corner of my eye.

“It’s Friday.” He continued.

I rolled my eyes. “I know. I can read calendars.” Fiyero chuckled at my blunt and snippy responses. He could clearly tell that I was annoyed by his presence, but he continued to talk anyway.

“It’s Friday and you are here reading under an oak tree. You should be out there having fun.” He used his hands to gesture to all the other students hanging out at the courtyard.

“This is fun to me.”

“School work is fun?”

“Well for your information this book is not for school it’s for me.”

“Well I believe you are filling your head with too many things. You’re thinking too much.”

I rolled my eyes.

“Well that’s not surprising coming from a prince like you.”

“A prince like me?” Fiyero gave a feigned pained expression. “I’m hurt that you would think that way about me.”

“Well I believe that you present yourself as self-absorbed and deeply shallow, but I don’t think you are. I think you use that as a front to hide the fact that you actually care and have thoughts.”

“Excuse me there’s no pretense here. I happen to be genuinely self-absorbed and deeply shallow.”

“Okay.” I said not believing him. I shut my book and stood from the bench. I finished the book I was reading and decided to go search for another one to read.

“Well I guess it was nice talking to you.”

I began to walk back to my room, but he blocked my path.

“Where are you going?”

“Back to my room to find another book.”

“Oh come on. Drop the book for once and have some fun.”

“No.”

I pushed past him and walked away without looking back. I was hoping he would leave me alone after that, but luck was not on my side today.

“Since you’re going back to your room, maybe I can save you the trouble of carrying your book all the way back.”

He grabbed the book from my hand before I could say anything.

“Hey give that back!”

I tried to grab the book back, but he raised the book above my head, so that I couldn’t reach and jumping up was no use. Fiyero was laughing at me struggling, so I sighed in defeat.

“Fine. You can help me carry my singular book up to my room.”

Fiyero was happy with my response because he was smiling from ear to ear. We were now standing nose to nose and I could feel his breath fan across my face. If I looked down I would have perfect access to his lips. Wait what was I thinking? I quickly backed away from him before I did anything stupid. Fiyero smiled down at me and said, “See now that wasn’t so hard now was it? Lead the way princess.”

I would he lying if I said I didn’t get affected by his words. Butterflies filled my stomach and I probably would have melted if I didn’t catch myself. What is wrong with me?

“Princess?”

“Yes princess. It suits you. Princess of the Upper Upperlands.” He said with a dramatic voice.

I was about to retaliate when a certain blondey came to mind.

“Shouldn’t you be calling Galinda princess?” I asked.

“Why would I do that?”

“Because you two are a thing.”

Fiyero chuckled. “I just met her this morning and besides I’m like this with everyone.”

My heart sunk at his words. So he was just treating me like everyone else? But why was I so upset about it? Just a few hours ago I wanted nothing to do with him and now I was disappointed that he’s not treating me differently.

“And if I called her princess then I wouldn’t be able to call you princess. Princess.” He said with a wink.

That definitely lifted my spirits. Sweet Oz! He was making feel a roller coaster of emotions. I could tell there will never be a dull moment with him.

I gave him a small smile but I looked down on the floor to hide it from him. I didn’t want him to notice that I started to warm up to him, but he saw the slight upturn of my lips.

“Well who knew that Miss Upland could smile. It’s a miracle!”

“Oh shut up!” I said, but you could hear the grin in my voice.

“Besides reading, what do you really do for fun?” I looked up at Fiyero and could tell that he truly wanted to know my genuine answer. So it seems that my premonition about him not being self-absorbed and deeply shallow was true.

“Umm…spending time with friends, swimming. Oh there’s a lake in the Upper Upperlands that my family and I go to every summer to cool off and it has such beautiful scenery. Not to mention the nearby ice cream shop…”

I stopped after I realized that I blabbered on. “I’m sorry I sort of got carried away.”

I looked up at Fiyero, but he didn’t seem bothered at all with my tangent. He actually seemed rather interested with what I had to say.

“No continue.” He said with an encouraging smile.

“No I’d rather not.”

I know he wanted to hear more, but he didn’t push me, which I was glad for. I was a little embarrassed with my little outburst.

“Well how about you discover a new way to have fun?” Fiyero said changing the subject.

“How?”

“Come with me to the Ozdust Ballroom tonight. The most swankified place in town.”

“Aren’t we not supposed to be off campus after dark?”

“Yes, but not being allowed to leave after dark makes it more fun!”

“I’ll pass.”

“Where’s your sense of adventure?”

“I left her at home.”

Fiyero paused before he burst into laughter.

“My joke wasn’t that funny.” But I couldn’t help but laugh along with Fiyero.

Fiyero paused again.“Your laugh.”

I took a few moments to recompose myself before asking, “What about my laugh?”

“It’s beautiful.”

I stopped walking and choked on air.

“What?” I asked, but Fiyero ignored me.

“Which way is your room?”

I realized that we have reached the dead end which separated into two hallways.

“This way.” I said as I begin to walk to the right. I walked a little faster to make this walk shorter. I have embarrassed myself way too many times in a such a short amount of time and I just wanted to smash my pillow in my face and scream. The rest of the way was silent until we reached my door.

“Well here we are. My humble abode.” I said. “Thank you for the uh…walk.”

“It was my pleasure. I hope to see you tonight at the Ozdust ballroom Miss Upland.

“Y/n.”

Fiyero smiled at my response.

“Y/n. I hope to see you tonight.”

I opened the door and was about to walk in, but I turned around instead.

“I know you like to put on the facade that you are this Winkie prince who doesn’t have a care in the world, but you’re also human. Yes you might be self-absorbed and shallow, but that’s not all of you and you have thoughts that should be shared. If you take away your crowd of admirers you’ll be left with the real you. If you want to continue with this role in front of everyone then that’s fine…,but you don’t have to be that way with me.”

Fiyero’s expression was unreadable, but I could have sworn I saw flickers of fear and appreciation.

“Y/n…I don’t know what to say.”

His hands fell to his sides and I realized that he still had my book. I slowly inched towards his hand and pulled the book from his grasp. But before I pulled away I took his hand in mine and gave it a gentle squeeze.

“You don’t have to say anything.” I said with a smile.

He nodded and with one last squeeze I pulled away and slowly closed the door shut.

—————————

I laid in my bed, for what seemed like hours, contemplating whether I should go to the Ozdust ballroom or not. I turned to my night stand to see that it’s only been a half hour. I groaned in frustration and covered my face with my pillow. Then I heard a knock at the door. I rose from my bed and opened it to see my brother Ezra.

“You. Me. Ozdust. Tonight.” He said as he entered my room.

“You know about that too?” I said as I shut the door.

“How do you know about it?” He asked curiously.

“I was invited.” I said as I plopped onto my bed. Ezra raised an eyebrow at my words and joined me.

“You were invited?! I wasn’t even invited! Who invited you?”

“So how do you know about it?” I asked avoiding what he asked me.

“I overheard some students talking about it, but don’t avoid the question. Who invited you?”

“Fiyero.”

Ezra’s eyebrows shot up to the ceiling.

“Fiyero Tigelaar of Winkie country? But you hate him.”

“I don’t hate him! Where did you get that impression.”

“When Galinda introduced us to him you didn’t seem to be too pleased with him.”

I thought back to the first impression I had of Fiyero when I first met him.

When he first stood in front of me I took a good look at him and he was exactly what I expected from a Winkie prince. He was dressed to the nines from head to toe. You could tell his blue jacket and pants were made to perfection and the gold accents were sewn with precision. His black polished boots were so shiny that you could even see your own reflection in them. And that was just his clothes.

Fiyero had an aura about him. It was as if he believed he always had to be the center of attention. Reminds me of someone that I know, but I know that Galinda has a heart. It was too soon to tell if he genuinely cares, but by the way he acted and the way the students nearby looked at him, I could already tell that his way of life to everyone else was fake.

Then he approached me later on in the day and I got to know him a little more. I soon realized that he wasn’t all so bad by himself. It was only when he was around everyone else where his walls come up and he acts out his facade.

“I guess I had a change of heart.” I finally answered.

“Uh huh. And how did Fiyero even get the chance to talk to you. The only way that can happen is if you two hung out alone.” Ezra said teasingly as he wiggled his eyebrows. I laughed at his antics.

“Fiyero might have interrupted my peaceful reading time earlier today and I got to know him a little more.”

“Oh?!”

“And before you say anything else there was nothing else to it. He offered to walk me back to my room and that’s when he invited me to the Ozdust ballroom. On our walk back I got to know him a little better and he’s not so bad by himself.”

“Hmm hmm.”

“Nothing else happened!”

“Hey I said nothing!” Ezra said as he lifted his hands to the sides of his face in defense. “But this means that you’re coming!”

“I didn’t say yes.”

“Why-“

“But I didn’t say no either. I’m still thinking about my answer.”

Ezra looped his arm with mine.

“Now I’m forcing you to come because I’m coming and I’m not going to have you sit pathetically in your room.”

“I’m not going to—“

“Ah uh. I won’t take no for an answer. And don’t say you don’t have anything to wear. Your wardrobe is almost as grand and big as Galinda’s.”

Ezra did have a point. I worried about my appearance and wardrobe just as much as Galinda, but I didn’t flaunt it as much as my cousin did.

“Come on.” Ezra grabbed my hands and pulled me up from my bed. He led me to one of my luggage’s that turned into a closet with the push of a button. Ezra pushed the button and pushed me towards my array of dresses.

“Well go on.” He prompted.

I stumbled upon the rack and begin to flip through my choices until I came across a dress that brought a smile to my face.

—————————

Ezra and I missed the boat that Galinda and Fiyero went on, so we arrived at the Ozdust ballroom a little later. I peeked over the corner and was in awe with what I saw.

The entrance of the ballroom had a ginormous staircase which led to the dance floor. At the end of the room was where a band of animals were playing the music. On the ceiling schools of fish were dancing in formation to the beat of the music. That’s when I realized that this ballroom was underwater. That was something I’ve never seen before.

Ezra and I began to walk down the staircase and I began to notice a lot of familiar faces from school.

“Do people come here often?” I asked Ezra. He first attended Shiz last year, so he had a whole year of experience before I came along.

“I would say so. It’s where most people go over the weekend, but this is the first time I’ve ever gone.”

I looked at him shocked. “Really?!”

“Yeah. I’ve never been invited and I’ve always wanted to go, but I never knew how to get here until I overheard those two girls talking today.”

“Well today’s your lucky day!” I said with a smile.

“Indeed it is.” He said with a chuckle. “Oh I see some of my friends I invited over there. Will you be okay on your own?”

“Yeah I will. Galinda should be around here somehere.”

“And Fiyero.” Ezra said with a glint of mischievousness.

“Yeah him too.”

Ezra laughed before he walked over to his two friends. Now I was left alone to fend for myself. I noticed a drink table on the side of the dance floor, so I made my way over there.

I had no idea what was in the glass, but it tasted quite good. I sipped quietly off to the side when I noticed a familiar figure approach me.

“Well if it isn’t Miss Upland.”

“Please don’t call me that.”

“Alright then. Princess.”

“Y/n.” I corrected him

“Princess Y/n.”

I figured it would be pointless so I gave up trying to correct him.

“I was almost starting to think you weren’t going to show up. What made you change your mind? Me?”

“Don’t be so full of yourself Fiyero. My brother forced me to come.”

“Aww so I can’t go around telling people that you’re my date tonight?”

I nearly choked on my drink, but I managed to regain my composure.

“Not a chance.”

“What a shame and to think I was going to ask you to dance.”

“I didn’t say no to that.” I said with a teasing smile. Fiyero looked shocked and glad that I was finally playing his game.

“Since you say so, I’ll just take this.”

Fiyero grabbed the drink from my hand and downed the rest of it before setting it on the table.

“Shall we?” He extended out his hand for me to take. I didn’t say anything, but I accepted his hand and he led me to the dance floor.

He began to twirl and whirl me around to the beat of the music and I found a couple laughs slip from my mouth. I haven’t had this much fun in a long time and I couldn’t believe that Fiyero of all people was making that happen.

One by one Galinda, Ezra, and his friends joined us as well. It was great to not care about the trivial things in life and simply dance through life as Fiyero likes to put it.

At one point the band slowed down the tempo of the music to a slower one and Fiyero gave me a knowing look. I looked back at Ezra and he winked at me before walking off the dance floor with his friends. I turned back to Fiyero and grabbed his hand. He gave me a beaming smiling, put his hands on my hips and began to move me across the ballroom floor.

“You know I’ve been thinking about what you said earlier today.” He said.

“About?” But I had an inkling about what he was talking about.

“About me pretending in front of everyone else.” I simply nodded and waited for him to continue.

“I guess I started doing it in order to hide my true depth of character. It was a way for me navigate the superficial social circles and get the chance to meet powerful people. I’ve done it for so long that I forgot what it’s like to just be me, but you were the first person to ever see through that.”

I took a moment to take in his words. It must have been exhausting to keep up that facade for so long. I felt bad for Fiyero. The fact that he felt the need to live like that.

“Well like I said you don’t have to pretend with me. I want to know the real Fiyero Tigelaar. Do you think you can manage to do that?”

“I can for you.”

Under normal circumstances I would have collapsed right then and there there, but that would do either of us no good. Fiyero had just finished telling me something he’s never spoken out loud before and I have to be the support he needs.

He twirled me around once more before pulling me right back into his arms. Then he brought his mouth up to my ear and whispered changing the subject.

“You look beautiful princess. I couldn’t take my eyes off of you tonight. I must say that blue is definitely your color. You are hands down the most beautiful one here.”

“I don’t think so.” I said as I looked down at the floor bashfully.

Fiyero grabbed my chin with his finger and brought my face up to look up at him.

“I beg to differ.” He grabbed a strand of my hair and pulled it back behind my ear. I felt his breath against my ear and shivers traveled down my spine. No boy has ever gave me as much attention as Fiyero has and I was at a loss with what to do. But in a strange way I knew exactly what to do, which is why I was bold enough to try something.

“Can I tell you a secret?” I whispered in his ear.

Fiyero looked confused, but he nodded anyway. I stood up on my tiptoes and went up to his ear, but at the very last second I grabbed his face and connected his lips with mine.

At first he didn’t responded, and I got so scared I got the message wrong, so I almost pulled away. However, he soon reciprocated the kiss and placed one hand firmly on my waist and the other framing my face. The kiss started simple, but then it became more intense. I would have kept on going, but then I remembered where we were.

I pulled away and looked around to see my brother looking at me with a knowing look as if he was saying I told you so. He mouthed, “And you said there was nothing else to it.”

“Shut up.” I mouthed back.

“Do you want to take this somewhere else? Away from the public eye.” Fiyero asked.

I looked up at his blue eyes and thought about being alone with Fiyero. Being able to hold him and kiss him to my hearts desire. I nodded with a smile.

Fiyero smiled back and interlocked our hands. Together the both of us walked out of the Ozdust ballroom without a care in the world and we simply danced through life.

[inmyheaddd]

walkin out the door with your bags — grayson hawthorne x reader — part 7

⤷ “pour your glass of wine // mitchell told me i should be just fine,”

summary: you and grayson haven’t talked in a while, and things stir up in the world around you and in your mind. luckily, you have the best best friend by your side. wc: 2.0k a/n: hey siri.. play two people by gracie abrams… (said sadly) series masterlist — other parts

previously on part 6…

“he looked at you like he didn’t know what to say, his mouth opening and closing before he finally settled on just staying silent.

you still felt like there was a million unspoken words that needed to be said, but you turned and walked away. 

for once, you didn’t wait to see if he’d try again.

you willed your feet to move and not think about how he looked behind you, because if you did, even for a second, you had a feeling you’d turn right back.”

—

it had been a few weeks since you and grayson stopped talking. yeah— weeks. that was the longest you had gone without talking to him since you’ve known him. isn’t that strange?

it was driving you crazy, the amount of times you saw something that reminded you of him, or your friendship, and you wanted to send it to him, only to remember you couldn’t. you weren’t friends, and you had him blocked on basically everything.

or the amount of times you saw something only the two of you would understand, something that would’ve made you laugh, and just feel saddened by it. it felt like your memories were split between the two of you. 

there was a thing that was even stranger, though— he had started seeing someone. 

at least that’s what it looked like, with the posts she’d put on her social media. she had posted a picture of the back of a blonde head you could recognize anywhere in-front of the sunset, and one of her walking with someone holding her shopping bags— and the hand had the faintest scar on it’s thumb, it was almost impossible to notice. and it was a scar that only you knew the backstory to. 

there was that— and the countless paparazzi photos online— ‘grayson hawthorne’s possible new girlfriend? the mysterious blonde hawthorne has a new hot date! grayson and his interesting new friend ella spotted in…’ it was sickening. 

he would go to extreme lengths to never have paparazzi find you back when you hung out. always in quiet, secluded areas. you never thought much of it before, but now it looked like it had a whole new meaning.

was he embarrassed? did he not want to be seen with you? did he— you off your thoughts before you spiraled.

she was gorgeous, you couldn’t deny it.

and the worst part? she was an absolute sweetheart. there wasn’t a single reason to hate her.

you hated yourself more for even looking for a reason to. 

the thing is though, he was never yours. sure, he wiped the tears off of your cheeks when you cried, gave you the kisses you could only dream of, confided in you about things he didn’t tell his family, and he was your best friend. but he was never simply just yours.

besides, you were the one who made sure that any chance of you happening was gone permanently. he asked to talk, and you talked. then you went home crying. 

this was grayson you were talking about: if he wanted something, he found a way to get it. that being said, if he wanted to be with you, or even just still be your friend, he would’ve said something. 

he didn’t. 

if ella was what he wanted, then you just had to deal with it.

you weren’t ever like this, you promised yourself you would never be that girl. green and sick with jealousy, questioning her own self worth. 

but hey, you promised each other you’d be there for each other always, did you not? seems like promises didn’t mean all that much anymore. 

—

“you don’t get it, gigi.” you exclaimed frustratedly as you wiped your angry tears away. 

you had just stormed out of a club you were at with your friends. the bustling music and bright flashing lights stopped again as the door shut behind gigi, after she ran after you. the music could still be heard slightly, but it was muffled heavily behind the door.

your friends wanted you to go kiss random guys, drink until you couldn’t feel anything, and for a few days, you did. and it almost worked, but it just made you feel horrible now. a few of them even made crude jokes about grayson and ella.

you didn’t feel like yourself— you didn’t even like yourself. how could you ever expect grayson to?

“he just doesn’t care if i look pretty, or if i’m doing better, or any of these other things.” you pointed out exaggeratedly, knowing you were taking it out on the wrong person, but you couldn’t stop yourself. 

“you know what?” you said through a cruel chuckle. “the worst part is that he would probably be happy for me that i’m moving on, or looking better, being myself, or whatever the hell you guys say i should do.” 

you gestured to the door of the buildings where the rest of your friends sat, frustration running all the way to your fingertips.

“he wouldn’t get jealous.” you said, angry at yourself that you got jealous. “he’s a good person, and that’s why it hurts so much. that’s why i’m ‘not over it in 2 weeks like i usually am.’” you continued, almost choking on your words by now. 

you were so angry that all your friends expected you to just get over it. they don’t know what its like to feel that kind of love one day, and find out the other person didn’t even think of you like that.

to find out that he thought of someone else like that. 

and somehow, even through the pounding of your ears and burning throat, you had even more to say. 

“he’s surrounded by pretty girls every day, gigi, the only difference is he actually wants to be with one, and it’s not me. and that’s fine.” you put on your most level voice, and after a moment added, “it has to be fine.” 

you sniffled, and decided from then on you were not going to let grayson hawthorne, or more so the lack of him, dictate your life for a second longer.

gigi stood there wide eyes, her mouth opening to speak, then shutting. then opening again, then shutting. “i…” she managed, and your heart almost tore as you noticed her eyes were glossy now. 

fuck, you messed up. 

“geeg,” you took a tentative step towards her, the nickname coming out before you could even think. you held out a hand as if to stop her from moving, “wait, gigi—“

“— no, i’m sorry. i messed everything up.” she shook her head apologetically as she looked at you, her voice breaking, and in turn breaking your heart. “i— you guys were perfect friends before. and i, i— i ruined it all by trying to play matchmaker.” 

“what?” you breathed out, rapidly shaking your head. “no no no, none of this is your fault. you didn’t do anything, i was stupid, and he kissed me. those were our choices, you didn’t force anything— i didn’t mean to take it out on you. you did nothing wrong gigi,”

“stop,” she said through a forced laugh, bringing herself to smile. you knew it was a fake one, and she knew you knew. but she kept on smiling anyway. 

“it’s okay, you don’t have to say that.” she spoke through a laugh, a bleak contrast to the pained expression on her face. it was tearing your soul by the second. she wiped her eyes with the back of her hand harshly. 

“i should’ve just left everything alone.” gigi tore here eyes away from you, and to the ground. “why do i never leave anything alone?“ she exhaled through a sad laugh. you noticed she started to talk faster, and more so speaking to herself. you picked up on her hands fiddling with themselves, then she toyed with the hem of her shirt. 

“no, gigi, look at me.” you waited until her wide blue eyes locked on yours, her wet lashes clumped together. “you didn’t do anything wrong.”

“i did though, and now gray isn’t acting like himself, you’re not okay, and i’m the worst best friend and sister in the world.” 

“gigi,” you gave her a sympathetic look as your shoulders sagged. you couldn’t begin to think about how you could express how much you loved her.

you pulled her into a hug, and her arms stayed glued to her sides for a moment, before finally hugging you back 10x harder. 

you screwed your eyes shut as you felt her cry on your shoulder. 

“geeg, you have no idea how light my life got the second you entered it,” you mumbled into the hug. “and, i mean— so what if me and grayson aren’t friends anymore? that doesn’t matter, not as much as your friendship matters.”

gigis breathing slowed, and she was sniffling now. the thing that mattered was that she wasn’t crying. 

you continued, “he’s not the one i dance with late at night and watch shitty reality tv with in bed the next morning. he’s not the one who i laugh wicker the stupidest things with for hours on end. he’s not the person i text first when something happens. he’s not my best friend.” 

not anymore, and he probably never would be ever again.

you felt gigi laugh sadly through a sniffle, still on your shoulder. she was silent for a long moment. then she mumbled, “we’re pretty damn amazing, aren’t we?” she lifted her head and looked at you. 

“yeah, we sort of are.” you smiled at her, watching as she wiped her tears and took a deep breath in. 

“you know,” she mumbled, “i really really hate my brother.” she said as she straightened her clothes, exhaling a long breath as she shook her head. 

“yeah,” you sighed, lying straight through your teeth. “me and you both.” 

you more so hated him because you couldn’t really hate him. not fully hate him, anyway. 

gigi let the lie slide straight through, changing the subject with a laugh as she leaned forward and fluffed up your hair. 

“let’s get inside before we get hypothermia.” she took your hand and led you to the door, “our outfits are not built for the cold.” 

“oh, yeah. i know that’s for sure.” you laughed, faking shivering and clattering your teeth. you followed gigi into the doors of the music and bright lights.

for once, you actually looking forward to the night you had ahead of you. 

because, you knew you and gigi would grab your purses and go straight home, rewatch your favorite movies until sunrise, and then spend the day dancing to your favorite songs with your favorite person. and repeat until you ran out of baked goods and coffee. 

that was what healing was. to you at least.

—

“okay but like,” gigi said, before popping another marshmallow in her mouth. 

“have you seen yourself? it’s like, your eyes like— hold the secrets to the universe in them.” she swore solemnly, raising her eyebrows for added effect. “i could look in them forever and eveeerrrrr.”

she tilted her head, eyes widening as she dragged the last word; looking like she was in a hypnotized state.

“gigi, stop.” you laughed as you felt your face redden, pushing her shoulder away.

“sorry,” she didn’t let her act slip up for a single second. “i’m just a little mesmerized right now.” 

“you’re not funny,” the laugh threatening to break out said otherwise. 

“just give me a moment. i’m just committing this scene to memory so i’ll see you in my dreams,” her voice was all robot-like, she always knew how to cheer you up in the most ridiculous ways. “the day isn’t enough time—“

“shut up,” you giggled, hiding your face as gigi leaned back, throwing her head back in laughter.

you shook your head, rubbing your eyes as you continued to chuckle. once you’d both settled down, gigi spoke again, more serious this time.

she leaned her head back on the couch, looking at you fondly. “i’m sorry my brother is a d1 douche bag. if he had a dollar every time he was literally the worst person ever, he’d be richer than avery.” 

you managed a small laugh. “tell me about it,” you said, then after a moment of giggles, you spoke again. “i love you more, geeg. way more than you know.”

—

it was bordering between late night and early morning when you woke up. gigi’s limbs were strewn across the king-sized bed you lay on. you could hear her soft snores. 

you turned over and gave her a glance, and her hair was all over the place in the most endearing, gigi way. 

she’s going to struggle with that tomorrow, you thought. you laughed to yourself, before reaching over blindly for your phone, the notifications of which you forgot to silence, being the whole reason you were awake now. 

2:32 the time read, and you scrolled down to read your notifications. 

your smile faded faster than you could ever imagine. there was a crater in your chest, and a hole in your stomach.

earlier notifications:

**A blocked number wants to message you. Accept?**

— I’m sorry. — I’ve made many mistakes in my life. I can’t let losing you be another. 

**Tap here to delete this message, and all previous conversation.**

a/n: gigi my girl ☹️ sorry for the recent influx of angst help idk what happened taglist: @x-liv25-jamieswife @wish-i-were-heather @thecircularlibrary @whatsamongus @littlemissmentallyunstable

@anintellectualintellectual @lovethornes @maybxlle @sheisntyou @emelia07

@midiosaamor @sweetreveriee @charsoamerican @hxress23 @imaseabear 

@clarissaweasley-10  @off-to-the-r4ces @thelov3lybookworm @graysw1fe @lanterns-and-daydreams

@hermesenthusiast @moonnsstruckksworld @that-daughter-of-hephaestus @apollosmusee @hijabi-desi-bookworm 

@goldi-1-graysons-version @saigonharrington

[domripley]

Alleyway

pairing: rhiannon lewis x reader

warnings: jealous rhiannon, semi public sex, name-calling, angry rhiannon, anal fingering, spit as lube, light angst at the end but only if you squint.

summary: when rhiannon went to grab the both of you drinks, the last thing she expected was a man having his hands all over you.

request: jealous sex in the alleyway behind the bar with rhiannon x reader

Usually Rhiannon and you would spend a cozy night in, but you had convinced her to go out to the club with you. You informed her that your childhood best friend was in town and you wanted her to meet her. She would meet up with the two of you that night, and Rhiannon agreed, excited to meet your best friend.

“Hey, I’ll be right back,” Rhiannon said, pulling you in to kiss you on your cheek. “Your usual?”

You nodded, “Yes, please.”

With that, you watched as Rhiannon moved through the crowd of people. As soon as she was out of your sight, you pulled out your phone, texting your friend to see if she was still coming. Before you could even unlock your phone, a man tapped you on your shoulder. You looked up from your phone with a smile, assuming that it was your friend—but your smile soon faded when you saw that it was some random man who smelled like he used too much axe body spray.

“What’s a pretty girl like you doing here all by yourself?” He asked, moving closer to you.

You sighed just as he started to rub your arm, humming at the noise you had just made. You looked at your phone, unlocking it before hitting send when you realized you never got to sending the text to your friend.

“You want me to buy you a drink?” He asked, stilling his hand on your upper arm.

As he waited for your response, he rubbed your arm with his thumb. But just as you were about to say something, Rhiannon came back with the drinks she had gone to get for the two of you in her hand.

Rhiannon frowned, looking between the two of you. You hated that she was silent, awkwardly standing there while she wrapped her head around what she just walked up to. Of course, you weren’t doing anything wrong, and she knew this, but she still didn’t like the feeling that was growing in the pit of her stomach.

“What’s going on here?” Rhiannon asked, turning to the man.

You sat there, silently hoping that the guy would walk away and drop it. But with your luck (or lack of it), he smiled.

“I was just asking if I could buy her a drink, but she never gave me her answer yet.” He turned to look at you.

You bit your lip, looking at Rhiannon, flinching slightly when you realized she had turned her attention to you. She was waiting for you to give this weird man an answer.

You took a deep breath, swallowing before you whispered, "I... no, thank you; my girlfriend here bought me a drink, so I’m good.”

The guy shook his head, giving you a piece of paper. “If you ever want to have some real fun, call me,” he said before walking away from Rhiannon and you. You took a deep breath, looking down at the piece of paper that had his number on it, and before you could even look up at Rhiannon, she grabbed it out of your hands. You watched as Rhiannon crumpled up the piece of paper and shoved it into her pocket.

“C’mon,” Rhiannon grabbed your hand. Before you could ask her what she was doing, she pulled you through the club. “We’re leaving.”

Rhiannon dragged you out of the club, and instead of calling for a cab, she led you down a dark alleyway. Before you could protest, she pulled your pants and underwear down to your ankles.

“If you’re going to act like a slut,” Rhiannon paused, slapping your ass hard. “I’m going to fuck you like one.”

“Rhee, please listen,“ you whimpered, placing both of your hands on the wall to hold yourself up. Rhiannon ignored you, spitting on her fingers before bringing them to your asshole. You flinched, being caught off guard with where she brought her fingers. “Wait, wait!”

Rhiannon moved her fingers away from your asshole and brought both of her hands to her pants. You stayed in your place, hoping no one would see you as she pulled her own pants and underwear down.

You knew she had been packing the whole time, but when she lined the tip of her strapon to your entrance, you gasped. You squeezed your eyes shut as Rhiannon pushed into you at a slow pace.

“That’s a good girl,” Rhiannon praised. “Taking my cock so well in this nasty alley like the dirty little slut you are.”

Rhiannon stayed still, allowing you to get adjusted to the size of the toy. She rubbed at your asshole once more, causing you to tense up. Rhiannon let out a breath before leaning down to whisper, "Relax, baby, I don’t want to hurt you. I need you to relax.” in your ear.

You tried your best to relax, sighing in relief as she took her finger off your asshole. You quickly flinched as you heard her spit before bringing her finger back to your entrance. She rubbed the spit against you before pushing the tip of her finger into your asshole.

“Fuck,” you whimpered.

You pushed your head against the wall, trying your best to focus anything but the finger in your asshole. As soon as Rhiannon got her whole finger into your ass, she began to slowly move her hips.

“You’re so pathetic,” she spat. “If you wanted me to fuck you in public, you could have just asked.”

You whimpered, trying your best to get used to how it felt to be filled at the same time. Before you could say anything in response, Rhiannon continued. “But no. Instead, you just had to make me jealous.”

“I’m sorry, wasn’t trying to make you jealous, promise!” You turned to look at her, but Rhiannon pulled her finger out of your ass. She used the same hand to hold your face to the wall.

“You don’t get to look at me,” she snapped. “Nasty sluts who let anyone flirt with them when their girlfriend walks away don’t get to look.”

You moaned, biting your lip in embarrassment of how loud you just were. You knew this would turn you on, but you hadn’t realized it would be to this extent.

Rhiannon began to fuck you—one hand on your wasit while the other held onto your shirt to pull you back against her. Her pace was rough and fast before letting your shirt go and holding your face against the wall.

“Such a good girl taking my cock,” Rhiannon hummed. “Going to remind you who the fuck you belong to.”

You whimpered, squeezing your eyes shut as she continued to hold you in place.

“Please don’t stop, Rhee.” you begged. “Fuck, please don’t stop; I’m so close!”

You cried out, and to your surprise, Rhiannon continued without saying a word. She reached down to rub at your clit, keeping up the same pace as you grew closer to your orgasm. You bit your lip hard, hearing voices grow closer, and it started to make you nervous. Rhiannon leaned in closer to you and whispered, “I want you to come for me, but you’ve got to be quiet, baby. Go on, be a good girl for me, and come.”

You came quietly, biting your lip so hard that you caused the skin to break. Rhiannon fucked you through your orgasm, holding you in place before pulling out of you. She helped you pull your pants and underwear up from your ankles before pulling her own up. She helped you to her truck, finally speaking up when the two of you were both in it and buckled up.

“You’re mind, right?” Rhiannon asked, glaring at you.

You knew that she was masking her anxiety with an attitude, knowing that she just needed reassurance. You placed your hand on her thigh, giving her a soft smile.

“I’m yours, Rhee. Always.”

[daenysthedreamersblog]

SECRETS OF US - II

risk

god, i'm jumping in the deep end

it's more fun to swim in

heard the risk is drownin', but i'm gonna take it

masterlist // previous chapter

summary: romance isn't easy to fake when ur supposed to hate ur scene partner, can u put aside a feud for the sake of art or will you lose the role refusing to give coriolanus snow your...passion

pairings: modern!coriolanus snow x reader

warnings: mature content, swearing, drinking

notes: happy thanksgiving to those who celebrate! i am thankful for all of you reading this or other stories of mine you all make me so happy 🤍🤍

"Stop, stop, stop!" Mr. Flickerman waves his hands around the exhausted expression all over his face. "Can't you two pretend to like each other any better?"

You glance upward at Coriolanus who was attempting to hold you in a rather romantic embrace, but you were so rigid and he didn't seem to want to be there either. You meet his eyes, trying to soften them with a deep breath, but instead you feel your eyes narrowing on him. He runs his hand down your cheek opening his mouth to speak, but his top lip curls in disgust.

"Enough!" Flickerman stands up climbing up onto the stage. "This is ridiculous where was all that passion I saw in your auditions!"

You crossed your arms, "I had a better scene partner."

"You wouldn't even know what passion was if it bit you in the ass." He glared at you.

"Says the one holding me like a dead fish!"

He comes in between the two of you. "Okay, okay we're going to try something." He motions for you to walk near the back half of the stage where a prop table sat. "Sit." You match Coriolanus's confused look. "Just sit up there." The pair of you climb atop the table to sit down across from one another. You pick at your nails until Mr. Flickerman grabs them and places them within Coriolanus's, you avoid thinking how his hands felt so warm, how they dwarfed yours sitting tensely in his palm. "Tell him something you like about him."

"What?" You laugh, he only glares at you. "Fine umm..."

"Look at him not the ceiling."

You take a deep breath and land on his face. "I've always admired...drive towards hard work, your ambition." Which could never be a lie since that quality of his had always been your detriment.

Something like shock passes over his blue eyes, but he masked it with concentration. Flickerman gave him the same instructions, "Your willingness to break a mold," he smirked, "You're full of surprises."

The corner of your mouth ticks up subtly. "Now something you like...physically."

You roll your eyes, but your answer comes too easy. "Your hair, especially when it curls."

"Your eyes." You blink. "In that moment anger sparks within them."

Flickerman takes a step back, "Closer." You inch forward. "Closer." Your knees touch. "Closer." You're nearly in his lap, "Now show me passion."

You swallow spreading his legs and going up onto your knees understanding why he made you do that exercise as you run your hands through his hair. It was shorter now than it had been in school, but something the ends still curled when the wind had mused it. His hands splay along your hips, dragging across accidentally exposed skin the breath you take is a sharp inhale. 

The world shifts as you stare down at him, it tumbles and turns and spirals as a blue ocean drags your under feeling his nose brush against yours. Eyes dark, nails dig in and time stands still in that moment. The stage disappears, Flickerman a forgotten speck in a distant reality; the only thing that seemed to exist was you in his arms. 

You inhale the same air, you swallow down his warm breath.

A door slams at the other side of the theater and everything floods back in. You scramble to cover new emotions you never wanted to encounter as you push away from him with a groan. 

Mr. Flickerman sighed, "Okay we're done for the day." You climb off the table both going to grab your things but he stops you. "I have an assignment, for both of you." You could do that. "Together." You and Coriolanus both began shaking your heads.

"Professor." "Sir."

"No. If you want these roles you will do this." You grind your teeth nails digging into your palms. He smiles too widely, "I want you to go home and watch some romantic classics, study them, try to take what you watch and use it."

He blinks, "Watch movies?"

Flickerman laughs, "Together Mr. Snow. Order a pizza, bond, put away this childhood feud or else I'll find new leads." He walks away while you both stutter out protest. 

You glare at Coriolanus, "You could just back out."

"I like the idea of you backing out."

"Why do you even want this?" You wave your hands around.

"Why do you?"

Then you're both staring at each other in the classic stalemate where you both just glared at each other instead of revealing your truths. You shake your head, "This is ridiculous."

"Agreed," He nodded. "So your place or mine?"

You grab your bag, "Mine."

He comes over later that night with three gentle knocks on your apartment door. "Nice place." He says brushing past you to take in your small one bedroom apartment. "What did you trade to make daddy buy it for you?"

You roll your eyes going to your fridge pulling out the chilled bottle of wine. He eyes you as you begin to open it avoiding his question, "What? I'm gunna need alcohol to deal with you tonight."

"Do you want food?" He asked it with his head turned taking in various artwork you had on the wall.  

You pour out the wine into your glass, "Do you?"

"He said order a pizza." He turned back to you watching you take a small sip. 

"As long as its not-!"

"Pepperoni, I know." He's pulling out his phone. You narrow your eyes over you wine glass and he looks back at you. "Friends close, enemies closer thing." He hold it up to his ear to call in the order, "Had to know your weaknesses."

You watch him pace while he orders and realize you didn't know a lot of his weaknesses. You felt suddenly unprepared, so you go to your T.V. picking up the remote to scroll through the romance category on the streaming services. "What's your least favorite topping?" You ask as he walks back over to sit down on your couch strangely too comfortable in your home.

"Wouldn't you like to know." He chuckles.

"Do you want some wine?" You looked over your shoulder at him.

He smirks, "Trying to get me drunk so I spill all my secrets kitten?" You snort making your way to the kitchen to get him a glass anyways. "It's mushroom." He says quieter once you hand him the glass.

You take a seat on the far end of the couch, "If only bonding was as easy as that." You lean forward a little, "Why do you hate me so much?"

"Curiosity, kitten." He reaches forward and plucks the remote from your hand. "Now come on, the sooner we watch something that inspires us the sooner I can be rid of you." He scrolls, "Do you have a favorite?"

You settle back into the couch, "I love a good romcom, or a period piece." 

He laughs to himself, "You would."

You toss a throw pillow at him, "All that quiet yearning is to die for, the slow burn of it all!"

"Boring!" He yawns. "Let's watch something raunchy."

You go back and forth for a while, so long you have to go refill your glasses, but finally settling on something in the middle. You grab a small blanket and curl into your couch to watch a movie with Coriolanus Snow, the thought makes you feel uneasy.

It isn't horrible. You feel like you should take notes, pausing to dissect what seemed to be missing between the two of you. He didn't protest, not even as you powered through very intimate scenes. You drain your third glass blaming the wine for the sudden heat in your cheeks and prickling in your skin. This was a bad movie choice, why did you pick the one where they actually fucking do it on screen instead of those ones that just elude to it? A period piece would have never put you in the uncomfortable position and you regret not pushing him more to agree with you. You dare a glance at him. He's engrossed in it with furrowed brows like he's trying to understand everything they were doing so he could somehow replicate it. Could he? You watch as his long fingers scratch at his jaw and find yourself itching for him to run those same fingers across your skin. For some reason your mind goes back to his fingertips running across the exposed skin of your back, his hair between the gaps of yours. You know you're staring too long at him, know that his side profile had no right being that gorgeous, when did you start attributing gorgeous to him, why couldn't he just be ugly, why did heat spread to your lower body the longer you looked at him. 

You fly to your feet making a beeline for your kitchen fumbling with the bottle stopper on the wine to pour more out. You look back over at him and he's watching you too intensely its hard to look away. You needed to look away, needed to stop letting him look at you like that. It was making confusing thoughts appear in a clouded head.

There's a knock on the door.

He pauses the movie standing up. "I got it." You tell him digging through your purse on the counter.

"It's fine." He pulls out his wallet from his back pocket.

"No please let me." You're fumbling with your cash to beat him to the door and you get there with your hand on the handle, but his hands land on your hips.

You still, skin burning. "I got it." He turns you around staring down at you, hands still splayed along your waist making your brain empty as it hones in on every place he's touching. "I may not like you but I am not that rude." You stare up at him trying not to focus on his hands touching your body, his face too close. He pushes you to the side as he opens the door, one hand still wrapped around you, and smiles out into the hall as you come up behind him. "Hi, thanks. Keep the change." He takes the pizza box with one hand and closes the door. "You're a pest you know that."

He let's you go reality finally flooding back into your senses, your body seeming too cold all of a sudden. "I don't want to be in debt to you." You wrap your hands around your body.

"Buy the next one then kitten." He slides it across the counter and opens it up.

"There will be no next one."

You go back to watching your movie, the food dulling the alcohol and any traces of whatever unwanted ideas it provoked. It did make you unreasonably tired and you know by middle of the second movie your eyes are starting to close. You should tell him to lock the door behind him when he leaves, but your mouth feels heavy with sleep and soon enough it takes you.

Sunlight wakes you up first, peaking through your blinds warming your already toasty skin. You knew you had dozed off during the movie, but you had hoped you would wander back into your room instead of the couch. Theres a slight kink in your neck from the angle, but you do feel rather cozy. You close your eyes again, tugging the blankets back up to your neck, and cuddling down into your warm couch.

Your couch was breathing.

You peeked one eye open turning slightly to peer at Coriolanus sleeping soundly next to you. You breath hitches as you glance down seeing your legs entangled under the same blanket. You shout clambering off of him. His body flies up in surprise the same time your foot catches the blankets and you're both crashing to the ground with him on top of you. "What are you doing!" Your hands go to his chest to push him off of you.

"What are you doing!" He yells back hands on either side of your head.

"Why are you sleeping on my couch?" 

"I didn't mean to!"

You crawl out from under him as he sits back on his feet. "I thought you would have left."

He runs a hand through sleep mused hair and you ignore that it's cute now that gel isn't controlling it, "I was going to, but I must have dozed off."

"How did I-..." You couldn't even finish the sentence. How did you end up in his arms?

"I don't know." He shook his head standing up. You must have turned and fallen asleep on his side and then he rolled tucking you into his chest. "I should go." He starts gathering his things and you know it's best he leaves, but for some reason you want to apologize for the bite in your tone. That seemed wrong, you would never apologize to him, never had, never will.

"Snow," You start as he stands by your door. He turns around eyes expecting something, "Don't tell anyone."

Whatever was there in his face is gone, replaced with his normal glare for you, "Wouldn't dream of it." He leaves abruptly the door slamming a little too loud.

Mr. Flickerman had been on to something in assigning you those movies together because it had worked. Maybe it had been the forced proximity, or the threat of being let go in the lead part, but you two got your shit together and pretended to never hate each other while on stage. It's not like you spent the whole play together, you both had other scenes with other characters, but the ones you did have together...

You were dreading the kissing scenes, and thankfully Flickerman was no where near ready to practice them yet. 

It had been a month since that night he had accidentally stayed over and Coriolanus seemed rather docile towards you. He mostly stayed away instead of his normal snide comments and bickering and distant glaring you could feel even with your head turned. You found yourself missing his gaze.

You started feeling rather bad, which was a new and strange feeling, was he starting to put aside this feud and you were holding onto it? You packed up your bag and began making your way to the door. He would have said something, spoken to you about putting aside your long history of differences. You stopped at the door turning back to look at him a strange air to him, like he was...sad.

"Snow." You called watching his head snap up to look at you blue eyes twinkling from the overhead stage lights. You made your way back over to him, "Clemensia is having a birthday party at her apartment tonight."

He raised an eyebrow, "Okay?"

You sighed, "Do you want to come..." You gritted your teeth, "With me?"

"Are you asking me out kitten?" He smirked some life returning to his face at this normal banter.

"No." You slapped his arm. "I'll text you the address, you can meet me there."

"You don't have my number."

This was getting into uncharted waters, "I'll DM you then." You answer walking away before he could convince you to take his number. That was a line you both didn't needed to cross.

Later that night you find your back pressed into the counter you're leaning on as Arachne fills you in on her latest romantic disaster, "She completely ghosted me."

"Does this have anything to do with a face made when you showed up to the restaurant she picked?" You smirk at her over your drink.

She rolled her eyes, "How was I supposed to know she had bad taste, she was into me?"

"You can't judge people so quickly Arch."

She stares pointedly at you, "I think it's perfectly fine to judge quickly especially on the first date." Her gaze lingers away a scowl appearing on her face. "What is he doing here?"

You follow her gaze as Coriolanus walks through the front door. "I invited him."

Her nails dig into your arm. "Excuse me!" You take a long slow drink. "Do I need to leave before a murder happens and if so why wasn't I invited to the planning?"

"No." You laugh. "We're trying to get along for the play."

"You and Coriolanus Snow do not get along." She stated like it was a fact from a history book.

You turned to take a step out of the kitchen, "Emphasis on the trying." You walk away before she can ask anymore questions. Given the fact you had all went to Academy together, she knew the long history between the two of you. "Hey." You offer him a smile taking in the small gift bag in his hand. "You brought a gift."

"You said it was a birthday party." He glared at you.

"It's not that kind of birthday party." You chuckled. 

He shook his head, "So stupid."

"Excuse me?"

His head snapped towards you. "Who has a birthday party that's not actually a birthday party."

You grinned, "Clemensia." Your fake smile slide off of your mouth. "What did you get her anyways?"

"It's nothing." He took a step back.

"Let me see." You took a step forward.

"No."

"Please." You lunged forward but he grabbed your wrist and pulled you until your chest hit his too close for comfort.

His blue eyes flared, "You are so annoying."

You places a hand on his chest ignoring the tone muscles underneath, "Please tell me."

For a moment his eyes flicker down to your pouted lips before he groaned and pushed you away gently. "It's a plush snake." He opened the bag letting you peer inside at the pretty thing. "I remember she used to be into snakes back in school."

"She still is." You genuinely smiles for him and nodded your head. "Want a drink?"

"Sure."

He sets the bag down on an end table for Clemensia to find whenever she was alone and followed you towards the kitchen. "Hi Coriolanus." Arachne cooed at him when she saw the two of you. 

"Be wary, she's in a mood." You muttered. "She had a bad date so she is overly miserable."

"Can't imagine what went wrong." He leaned down to whisper the joke into your ear causing you to actually laugh.

You motioned to the makeshift bar, "Take whatever you want." You go to the fridge where you had secretly stuffed your seltzers and pulled one out.

"So Coriolanus Snow." Arachne called to him too loudly. "What have you been up to these days?"

He shrugged sipping on a beer. "Nothing crazy."

She smirked, "Always the enigma Snow."

"Got to keep em guessing Crane." He winked at her and something rolled in your gut. 

Arachne's laugh is laced with malice, hand landing on his forearm long nails digging in to skin like claws. "Please be nice to my friend...or else."

He leaned in close to her, "No promises."

She shook her head at him, jokingly disapproving of him and walked off letting him slowly turn towards you, "Ignore her."

"Ignore her asking me to be nice to you." Your only response was to take a drink. "In reality we both know you are always crueler than I."

"I beg to differ."

The night passes unceremoniously, you both drink a little bit more, you dance with your friends to loud obnoxious music while the night slips away. You spin around Clemensia laughing along with her when you spy him leaning against the back wall alone, watching you.

Come dance.You mouth watching him shake his head in decline which makes you roll your eyes the small laugh in your chest.

"Go on and save him from boredom." Clem says into your ear pulling you too tight. You look at her suspiciously, but she only nudges you in his direction. "Hey." She calls to you as you step around her, "Be careful." You open your mouth to ask what she means but she's already turned around and dancing again.

You make your way towards him out of breath and flushed. You stare up at him and he stares down at you and you avoid the upward twitch of his fingers as you brush hair out of your face. 

"Wanna get outta here?"

"Where to?"

You smiles, "I think I owe you a pizza."

You make your way onto the streets the traffic lights guiding you through the blocks as artificial night blares down at you. The city is quiet, the only noise coming from a distant police siren and the honking of random traffic. You glance over at him as you meander through street poles while he watches his shoes hit the concrete. "Do you like the city?"

"Do you?"

He only peers forward, "I asked you first."

You sighed, "I think I'm supposed to so I guess so." You move closer to him until you're walking side by side. "Your turn."

"No." He answers quickly, but doesn't elaborate and you know you shouldn't care but the curiosity nestles in tight.

The rest of the walk is comfortably silent as you arrive at the only open pizza place and you even the score by purchasing the large pizza and continuing to walk with it towards the distant shoreline. He doesn't ask anymore questions as he follows you blindly to wherever you're taking him.

You tell him anyways. "I used to come here a lot when I first moved here." You pointed to the dock where the boats bobbed

"Why?"

You shrugged, "I like to watch the boats. It's calming in this jungle of background chatter." You kick off your shoes as the sand starts and walk inward slightly finding the perfect spot and settling in. He sits down next to you, "It's nice to just sit here as they start to peel away and wonder all of the places they could be going."

"They're probably off to get drunk in the middle of the water."

"Maybe," You open the box up. "Maybe not, and that's the fun in it all." He picks up a slice, "Why do you not like it here?"

You eat half of your slice before he finally responds, "Why do you feel like you're supposed to like it?"

"I asked you first."

He shakes his head, a subtle glare in his eyes, theres no malice behind it, "Not doing this with you."

You nudge him with your foot, "Play nice with me remember."

"I don't play well with others."

"You've always played well with me." Because isn't that what this was, what this has always been. A tennis match, a game of chess, the constant back and forth until someone wins. The sentence comes out too gentle of a whisper and he looks away, so you do too watching the sun break the horizon in a blood orange glow splitting the sky into bright pinks and indigos. You realize you've been out all night with him and for some reason the thought isn't followed by regret. "There goes one." You point as the small boat peels away from the others and out into the dark waters a small horn blaring in the distance. 

His lips part, "I feel small here." Your eyes shoot over to him too quickly. "I want to be great, I want to have power, but so does everyone else and I feel like I'll never be seen." He looks over at you, "I want to be great or I want to be nothing."

You know you need to answer, spill your minuscule confession, but it seemed too raw to let his go. He wanted you to let it go because letting you hear it would be wrong, you don't tell your enemy your darkest secrets, yet he had spoke it anyways. "My father wants me to like it, wants me to be what he wants me to be." You drag your finger through the sand. "So I am."

"What do you want be?"

You look at him again, the sun reflecting in his blue eyes like the waves in the water rippling off the shore, "Me."

He raises his eyebrow jokingly, "And who is that?"

"Wouldn't you like to know Snow." You smile.

"I've always known who you are." He stretches his legs out leaning back on his hands. "An annoying, nosy pain in my ass."

You close the pizza box climbing to your feet and wiping your hands off on your clothes. You stare down at him as the morning sun beats down on your back. You hold out your hand, "You are as much a pain in my ass as I am to you, but..." He cocks his head to the side playfully watching you as if he knew where this was going. "You've grown on me this past month, so I'm willing to consider a truce."

He takes your hand standing up, "Is this what you say to all the guys kitten?" You roll your eyes, "Fine I'll be your friend since you asked so desperately."

You ignore that he's still holding your hand, ignore how soft it is, how perfect it cradles yours. "A truce, not friends, at least until this play is over." You pack up the pizza letting him carry it as you begin the journey homeward walking side by side, the sunrise guiding your paths home.

chapter 3 coming soon!

[etclouie]

Hi!! I just found your blog and I love your writing! Even though I'm a new follower, I do have a couple requests but please don't feel pressured to write for them!! (If this looks familiar it's because this is my second request!)

Could you please do one or both of these prompts with Remus Lupin please? I'm a sucker for that man

82. (100 random dialogue) "seeing you with them made me realize you should be with me"

And/or

50. (150 prompts) "This isn't adrenaline, I want to spend my life with you."

˚୨୧⋆｡ prompt/s; 82) “seeing you with them made me realise you should be with me” and 50) “this isn’t adrenaline, i want to spend my life with you” — from 100 dialogue prompts and 150 prompts

˚୨୧⋆｡ warnings; best friends with feelings, they kiss, reader goes on a date and remus doesn’t like it (then love confessions kinda??), that’s it i’m pretty sure

˚୨୧⋆｡ a/n; there’s still time to send in reqs btw !!

— celebrate 600 with me?

you had come back from a date with another Gryffindor boy, much to your best friend, Remus’ dismay. 

he hated seeing you going on dates with other boys, his feelings for you having been harboured for years now. 

Remus had caught you on your way out to your date, and he’d been practically pouting ever since. not even Sirius’ terribly awful jokes helped put Remus in a better mood. 

he hated the sight of you with another boy, why couldn’t it be him?

that’s all he seemed to be able to ask himself all night, until he seen you deflated on the common room couch.

as if like usual, he saddled up next to you on the couch and offered a warm smile. you gave him a half smile in return, which made him sigh. 

“how’d it go?”

his voice broke the silence, and another sigh fell from your lips. close to the twentieth one since you got back to the common room, the boy you had gone on the date with heading straight to his dorm. 

“could’ve been better, we just want different things Rem”

you explained, resting your feet on the coffee table and tilting your head towards him. 

his eyes were soft and understanding, but there was a hint of something else there. something you couldn’t put your finger on, but he was dying to tell you how he felt. 

“you okay?”

it was your turn to question him, which he didn’t seem to like too much. his head turned away from you and his eyes stayed on the fireplace opposite you both. 

you knew something serious must’ve been going on, because this wasn’t like the Remus you knew. he never shut you out this much. 

slowly, you scooted closer to him. turning to face him and crossing your legs almost in the shape of a basket while your fingers carefully brushed through his hair, which normally soothed him enough to open up if he ever did shut you out. 

with a reluctant sigh he tilted his head back to you, and he whispered out so quietly it was barely coherent. 

“seeing you with them made me realise you should be with me”

but you heard them, and something inside you was jumping for joy. 

your fingers stilled in his hair, and a slight look of panic shot through him. 

his mind flooded with the fear of your rejection, but he calmed again as your nails scratched across his scalp. his eyes fluttered shut at the feeling and he moved his head closer to you, which pulled a soft laugh from your chest. 

without a second thought, he was leaning in and pressing his lips to yours. he paused again for a second, pulling back to meet your eyes but you were leaning in again. 

a triumphant noise left him as you kissed him again, your lips soft against his. he wrapped his left arm around you and tugged you closer, settling in his lap as he held you close. 

he ran both of his hands across your sides and all but whined as you broke the kiss, his head was against the back of the couch as he looked up at you as you spoke. 

“please don’t think that just because we kissed Rem— i do actually like you, but i don’t want this to be because we’re running on adrenaline”

he shook his head at your words, his touch on your hips softer now. his eyes flicked from yours and down to your lips before meeting your eyes again. 

a sigh pulled itself from his lips before he spoke out. 

“this isn’t adrenaline, i want to spend my life with you”

you both stilled for a second, your hands laying on his shoulders now and it took everything in you to keep your composure. 

his hands soothed across your sides as you leaned in to capture his lips in a sofr kiss, whispering out against his lips while a smile tugged at yours. 

“i want to spend the rest of my life with you too Rem”

⋆˚࿔ reblogs are highly appreciated 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

[starsenha]

[24] ABOUT THE BOY - stupid

synopsis: You were the queen of Decelis University. Everybody worshipped the ground you walked on. You were used to having what you wanted when you wanted it. Until the day when park sunghoon arrived, and things changed. wc: 1,2k tw: talk about strict parenting, just some bother and sister love ig

The chandelier lighting cast a warm glow over the polished marble floors as you and Mingyu stepped into the restaurant. The maître d’ greeted them by name—one of the many perks of being part of a well-known, wealthy family. You were led to a private corner table, away from the prying eyes of the other people. You looked around, taking in the opulence, but your focus was entirely on your older brother. You hadn’t seen him in over five months, and you had missed him terribly.

“Wow, Gyu, this place is even fancier than the last one,” you commented, sliding into the plush seat across from him.

Mingyu smirked, adjusting his cufflinks. “Only the best for my little sister. Plus, I figured you’d appreciate the privacy.”

You smiled, but it didn’t quite reach your eyes. Mingyu noticed, of course. He was always good at reading you.

“So,” he started, leaning back in his chair, “it’s been five months, and you’re still as stunning as ever. How’ve you been?”

You shrugged, picking up the menu even though you weren't particularly hungry. “Same old, same old. Just classes, parties, and the usual drama, and father who's been a pain in the ass like usual."

"Did something happen?" Mingyu asked, his brows furrowed with concern.

“He’s been scrutinizing every single thing I do,” you said, your voice tinged with frustration. “It’s like he’s just waiting for me to make a mistake. My grades, the people I hang out with, even the parties I go to—he has something to say about everything. I know he’s always been strict, but it’s suffocating, Gyu.”

"Damn, I'm so sorry yn," he said, his expression soft as he reached across the table to take your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

"How is it with you and the company?"

Your brother sighed, running a hand through his hair. "It's exhausting. But you know how it is. Father’s been breathing down my neck even more than usual. He’s been putting so much pressure on me about the company lately, and sometimes I feel like I’m just going through the motions, doing what he expects but never what I want."

You looked at your brother, your heart aching for him. Mingyu had always been the perfect son in your father’s eyes—smart, ambitious, and completely dedicated to the family business. But you knew that there was so much more to him than that, and it pained you to see how much of his life was dictated by their father’s expectations.

“Is it really that bad?” you asked softly, knowing that Mingyu rarely opened up about his own struggles.

He sighed, leaning back in his chair as the waiter poured them each a glass of wine. “It’s been worse lately. Father’s been pushing me to take on more responsibility, and he’s made it clear that he expects me to run the company the way he wants, not the way I think is best. I’ve tried to suggest new ideas, new strategies, but he shoots them down every time.”

You frowned, your frustration growing on behalf of your brother. “That’s not fair, Gyu. You’re more than capable of running that company. He should trust you to make the right decisions.”

Mingyu gave you a sad smile, though there was a hint of bitterness in it. “It’s not about trust. It’s about control. He’s always been like that, and I don’t think he’ll ever change. Sometimes, I wonder if I’ll ever really be free to do things my way.”

You could relate all too well. Your father’s controlling nature extended far beyond the business; it seeped into every aspect of your life. You'd always been expected to be the perfect daughter—graceful, poised, and obedient. But the weight of those expectations had become unbearable.

"Enough about that crap, how was your weekend with Heeseung? How is he?" Mingyu asked, just after ordering both your dishes to the waiter.

"It was great. I really needed that, so it felt good. And he's good, same old," you took a sip of the wine.

"What's happening?"

You sighed, putting your glass down. “It’s… it’s complicated.”

“I’ve got time,” Mingyu said, his tone encouraging but firm. “We haven’t seen each other in months. You can’t expect me to sit here and pretend I don’t notice when something’s off with my little sister.”

You took a deep breath, finally meeting his eyes. “It’s about Sunghoon, you know that guy I talked to you about. We were… I don’t even know what we were. But we were close. Then I pushed him away. I told him we weren’t serious, that we weren’t exclusive. And now… I think I messed everything up.”

Mingyu frowned. “Why did you push him away? I thought you liked him.”

“I did—I do. But after what happened with Sunwoo… you know how hard it was for me to get over him, Gyu. I was a wreck for years. I promised myself I’d never let anyone get that close again.”

Mingyu’s expression softened with a mix of empathy and anger. “I should’ve beaten the crap out of Sunwoo for what he did to you. That guy was a total asshole.”

You let out a small laugh, but it was tinged with sadness. “Yeah, well, can't really argue with that. And now I’m scared, Gyu. I’m scared of getting hurt again.”

Mingyu reached across the table, taking your hand in his, once again. He knew it gave you a sense of reassurance when he did that. “I get it. I really do. But, yn, you can’t let one asshole ruin your chance at something real. Love is a beautiful thing, even if it’s scary. And from what you’ve told me, Sunghoon sounds like a good guy.”

“He is,” you admitted, your voice softening. “He’s really good to me. But I don’t know if I’m ready to let my guard down.”

He squeezed your hand. “It’s okay to be scared. But don’t let fear make your decisions for you. If you care about him, you owe it to yourself to see where it goes. Don’t push him away because you’re afraid.”

You nodded slowly, taking in his words. “You’re right. I know you’re right. It’s just… hard.”

“I know, sis,” Mingyu said gently. “But you’re stronger than you think. And you deserve to be happy.”

You smiled, a real smile this time. “Thanks, Gyu. I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” Mingyu said, his eyes warm with affection. “And speaking of happiness… there’s something I need to tell you.”

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh? What’s that?”

He leaned back, a hint of a grin playing on his lips. “I’ve been seeing someone. Her name’s Soojin, and… it’s serious.”

Your eyes widened in surprise. “Soojin? Wow, you never mentioned her before! How serious are we talking?”

“Serious enough that I’m thinking of introducing her to the family soon,” Mingyu admitted, his grin widening.

“That serious?!” You exclaimed, a mix of excitement and shock in your voice. “Gyu, that’s amazing! I can’t believe you didn’t tell me sooner!”

Mingyu chuckled. “I wanted to make sure it was real before bringing it up. But yeah, she’s… she’s incredible. I think you’d really like her.”

“I’m sure I will,” you said, your excitement genuine. “I can’t wait to meet her. You deserve this, Gyu. You deserve to be happy too.”

previous / m.list / next

TAGLIST: @arimiu @eleanorheartschishiya @i03jae @beomsitez @hoonatic @rep-hoon @invuzzn @naoyiie @sunhyeswife @sophi-eee @heeseungismymanz @istglevi-gotmesimping @jiaant11 @lakoya @noname-123s-things-blog @roslayy @nyfwyeonjun @aehrizone @serenadehera @starry-eyed-bimbo

[drabbles-mc]

Pick-Up

Jesse Pinkman & Ignacio "Nacho" Varga

For @narcosfandomdiscord Book of Near Misses: fanwork with two characters from the same show who have never met

Warnings: 18+, language, no plot just vibes

Word Count: 2.2k

A/N: do you ever think about the fact that these two never got to meet? because i sure do!!!!!! i feel like there is more down the line that i would like to do with these two in a different story. but for now there's this! also my first time ever writing for Jesse so 🫡

“Yo!” Jesse banged on the safehouse door. “Open up!”

He didn’t hear anyone calling back to him, didn’t hear any movement from the other side of the door at all. Letting out a deep sigh, he started to make his way around the house. All of the curtains were covering the windows, all the locks on them secured. The only car in the driveway was his own, and for a moment Jesse couldn’t help but to think that maybe Mike had sent him off on some sort of wild goose chase. Punishment for whatever he’d done most recently that had annoyed him.

When he wound up back at the front door again, Jesse was about to turn around and walk off. He’d been through enough bouts of hazing and pointless trips. What he didn’t want, though, was to get into deeper trouble because he didn’t do what he was supposed to. There was still always the off-chance that this was all legit.

Standing halfway between the front door and the car, Jesse took out his phone and dialed one of the four numbers that were programmed into it. Bringing the phone up to his ear, he let it ring. His shoulders slumped, head tilting back as he waited to be sent to voicemail, to a voicemail box that probably wouldn’t even let him leave a message.

“What?” Mike’s voice came through on the other end of the line, as unamused as he ever was.

“Did you even send me to the right place?” Jesse asked.

“Did you go to the right place?” he rebutted.

Jesse rolled his eyes, able to picture perfectly Mike’s expression even though the two of them were miles and miles away from each other. “I think I can match a house number and a street name.”

“Okay, then, you’re in the right spot.”

“Does your guy know I’m coming, then? Because I’m out here banging on the door and—”

“Did you really think that banging on the door was the best course of action? For a man that’s currently a fugitive and on the run from—”

“Alright, alright. So,” Jesse shrugged, “what, then?”

“There’s a number in your phone that you’ve never had to call before.” He paused, a meaningful silence that lasted just long enough for Jesse to put two and two together on his own. “Call it.”

Jesse opened his mouth to respond, something along the lines of, “How was I supposed to know?” or “Why wasn’t that part of the directions?” But before he could say anything the line went dead. He huffed before navigating his way through the umpteenth flip phone that he’d had and gone through.

He hovered over the contact saved into his phone as only NV. He looked back up at the windows on the front of the house, hoping to catch some movement in the curtains and getting nothing. Finally, he hit the dial button.

When the person on the other end of the line answered, they didn’t say anything. Jesse could hear the faint waves of static, but no breathing, no voice. “Look, I’m gonna wait out here for five more minutes and then I’m turning around and going home. I’m only out here because Mike—”

“Mike sent you?” the man on the other end of the line finally spoke up at the sound of a familiar name.

“Yeah,” Jesse said, rolling his eyes. “Sent me because he’s too busy doing other shit, I guess.” He paused, waited for the man to say something else, and when he didn’t, he said, “Four minutes, dude.”

Jesse waited for a response but it never came. Once more he was faced with a dead phone line and he briefly wondered if there would ever be a time in his life again when people actually gave him a response of some kind before hanging up. A simple “Got it” or “Thanks” would work in lieu of a real goodbye, but he never seemed to get anything these days.

He stood there and continued to stare at the front of the house. He watched the windows, the curtains still not showing any kind of movement. He wasn’t really close enough to hear the sounds of any scuffling around inside but he still strained an ear just in case. Another minute had almost ticked by, which never really felt like a long time until Jesse was standing aimlessly in someone’s driveway, and the front door still hadn’t opened.

Finally hitting the point where he felt like he’d either been set up for failure, or was about to fall into some sort of trap, Jesse shook his head and mumbled a quiet, “Fuck this,” to himself before continuing the trek back to the car.

Just as his fingers wrapped around the handle of the car door, he caught movement out of the corner of his eye. Turning in the direction of it, he saw a man walking out from behind the house. He had a bag slung over one shoulder, and a gun clutched with both hands pointed at the ground. Jesse’s face scrunched in confusion as much at the gun as at the state of the man in general.

Mike hadn’t told him much of anything about the errand that he was on, which was typical. He definitely hadn’t given Jesse a description of the person that he was supposed to be transporting which, looking back on it seemed like just as much of a security measure as it was a liability but there was nothing that he was ever going to be able to do about that.

Whoever this guy was, he certainly wasn’t dressed like a man on the run with the exception of the gun in his hands. He didn’t fit the bill for a guy who had been hiding out in a safehouse for who knows how long. Even though his shirt was dingy and wrinkled now, Jesse could see that on a better day, it was nicer than anything that was in his own closet. The boots on his feet weren’t the kind made for the types of treks they would most likely find themselves on.

There was no shortage to the number of comments that crossed Jesse’s mind to make as the man walked closer to him. The one he settled on, however, was emphasized with a perplexed look as he said, “Dude, what are you doing?”

The man mirrored his expression, though there was more annoyance etched into his features than Jesse’s. “What?”

Jesse nodded towards the gun that he was holding. “What are you doing? It’s just,” he held his hands out, gesturing to the space around the two of them, “just us. Gonna pop your ride out of here?”

He kept both hands on the gun still, however the muscles in his arms lost a little bit of their tension. “If you’re my ride,” he said, giving Jesse a pointed once-over as he did, “then yeah, sorry if I don’t wanna just take my chances.”

“You think Mike would send me all the way out here just to—”

“Even if you’re not here to kill me, I don’t exactly trust that you’re gonna be able to stop someone else who wants to,” he explained. He didn’t want to say it, but he also wouldn’t put it past Mike or anyone in their business to send someone all the way out to where he was just to get rid of him. Whoever this kid was that Mike sent didn’t seem like the kind of guy he’d send for that kind of job, but he knew better now than to say things like never.

Jesse rolled his eyes. “Whatever.” Finally reaching and pulling the door open, he said, “Get in. Or don’t.”

Jesse had hardly sat down in the driver’s seat before turning the car back on. He was half-expecting whoever this guy was to turn around and walk back towards the house. Jesse wouldn’t have stopped him. Leaning across the console, Jesse stared out through the passenger window to see what the guy was doing, and found him doing another scan around them before finally opening the door and getting inside.

He watched the man as he set his bag on the floor between his feet. Jesse contemplated offering for him to throw it in the back seat, but the gun still being held in one of the guy’s hands was telling Jesse that the level of trust probably wasn’t quite there yet.

“Jesse,” he said as he shifted to reverse.

“What?”

Jesse looked at him before continuing on to look over his shoulder to back out of the crumbling driveway. “My name is Jesse. This is, you know,” he put the car into drive, “the part where you tell me who you are, what makes you so special.”

He stared at Jesse skeptically for a moment as he started off down the road. The car rattled slightly, filing what would’ve been deafening silence otherwise. He sat and he stared until Jesse turned to give him a quick glance before locking back onto the road. “Dude, it’s gonna be a long-ass drive if you’re just gonna sit there and stare at me in silence.”

He narrowed his eyes just slightly before finally saying, “Nacho.”

The chuckle that Jesse let out at that was reflexive. It was far from the strangest nickname he’d heard, and given the circles that he’d found himself running in lately he should know better than to laugh. But he couldn’t stop himself. He shook his head slightly as he reined in the other laughs that wanted to sneak their way out, an undeniable smirk on his face.

“Nacho,” he repeated with emphasis that was only amusing to him, “right on, yo.”

Jesse sat and waited for another moment longer, wondering if Nacho was going to have anything to say in response to that. He wasn’t looking for the guy’s life story, but he was wondering if Nacho was going to divulge anything about why they were in their current situation. Maybe even say how he knew Mike, or why Mike gave enough of a crap about him to have someone go out and fetch him, but didn’t give so much of a crap to come out and rescue Nacho himself. He’d settle for anything, but as Nacho settled back in his seat, gun still in his lap, Jesse knew that he wasn’t going to get any information that he didn’t pry or dig for.

“Right,” Jesse muttered under his breath. Not wanting to just listen to the rattling of the car on the road, and since his temporary partner didn’t seem to have anything to say, Jesse reached and turned the radio on to fill the void.

Music blared from the speakers for about forty seconds before Nacho shook his head and reached forward to shut it off. Nacho scoffed at the noise, and Jesse rolled his eyes at the lack of it.

Silence persisted for another minute or two before Jesse started to improvise, drumming his hands on the steering wheel. The rhythm didn’t feel familiar to Nacho, and he wondered if Jesse even had something in mind or if it was just stream of consciousness at this point. Nacho turned and looked at him as he drove and decided that there was no forethought happening there.

“Turn it back on,” Nacho finally said with a shake of his head.

“What?” Jesse asked, looking over at the man in the passenger seat.

“The radio.” He leaned so that his elbow was propped on the tiny ledge built into the car door. “Turn it back on,” he repeated as he propped his chin in his hand that wasn’t holding onto the gun.

Jesse rolled his eyes but he did as instructed, just glad to have something aside from his own thoughts to listen to. “Alright.” With both hands back on the wheel, he still found himself tapping his thumbs against it but it wasn’t audible. Eyes still trained on the road, he said, “Should’ve known that Mike wasn’t sending me to pick up anyone fun.”

“I—”

“If you’re looking for fun I think you’re looking in…the worst places possible.”

The sound Jesse made next wasn’t quite a chuckle, just that short, sharp exhale through his nose to prove that he’d heard and understood what Nacho was saying whether or not he agreed with it. Something about the response made it all click for him in a way, why Mike had sent Jesse out to the middle of nowhere to pick this guy up. Nacho might not have been in the divulging mood, probably wouldn’t ever be based on what Jesse had seen so far, but he didn’t need to know anything else to see how the web tangled itself together.

Leaning back in the driver’s seat, Jesse reached to turn the volume up two more notches before letting his hand fall onto the center console instead of back on the steering wheel. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Nacho give another shake of his head, but neither of them said anything to the other. The ends of Jesse’s mouth curled upwards as he continued on down the road, preparing for a long, quiet drive back home.

[gotwcird]

"no more games," she whispered, voice edged with a whimper, "promise." the brief kiss from him had definitely distracted her enough, her whole body pulsing. so the heavy eye contact just doubled it over, made her feel like everything around them was spinning. god the hold stephen had on her could probably be studied. it was all-consuming, and it was the most obvious when he kissed her deep. sky moaned into his mouth, tongue searching for his, arms going around his neck just to make sure they were flush. he kissed her like a demand and she gave him all she had, he could take everything if he so pleased, and she'd willingly present it all to him on a platter. she was so consumed by him, by their kiss, that she'd barely realized they were moving. only felt the resulting sensations, gasped as he grabbed her ass, chuckled with him as they tripped. skylar ueno was always a willing participant of hurricane stephen, and this time was no different.

she'd been too focused on his next kiss to realize he has undone her pants. that is, until she felt his hand curl into her, where she was swollen and ready for him, and she gasped against his lips. it didn't stop her though, in fact it drove her to kiss him harder, her hands drawing him impossibly closer at the back of his head, letting her volume go a little louder. she wanted him to know how much he made her feel, how much he did to her. how every single whisper of her name sent a jolt of arousal through her like little electricity. her boyfriend had molded her into something perfect for him, and the fact made her feel pride. when he pulled away, she whined. felt the loss of his touch, though the crooked smile on his face made up for it. her tongue was quick to reach for the thumb swiping at her lower lip too, giddy at the familiar salty taste of him.

skylar pouted from his accusation, but didn't resist when he pulled off her clothes. it was almost a relief at this point, the heat of the moment almost made her stuffy. she helped him take off his clothes too, though much clumsier. "just us," she cooed, nodding. her eyes never left him, completely enchanted by him at this point. so much so that her next words slip out without her even realizing. "you're so pretty, stephie." and pretty boys deserved her attention. her hands were slower, but she managed to undo his jeans; though could only shimmy them just below his ass from her position. it gave her just enough access though for her to slip one of her hands between them to reach him. even rubbing on his cock through his underwear made her head spin — he was so hard, so hot. she could even feel a wet patch where his pre smeared. he'd been straining in his pants like this for so long . . . in her dazed state, realizing that made her feel bad. an almost 180 degree shift from how she'd been teasing him, but when she was under stephen, her brain tended to get a little rewired. "baby, i wanna help," she breathed, hand sliding up and down on him in stilted movements. how she could help, she'd let him decide.

which bedroom wasn't a completely valid question to ask. the answer was obvious for the two of them. while stephen's bedroom has gotten much more guest-friendly since their relationship developed into something more, there was still two playful feline friends who’d been home alone all day and a messy bed that was not fit for their vigorous activities. still, a small smile and a nod in response was appropriate. the suggestion coming from her made the request simple to follow, but any motion to move was caught off by a strangled moan, her urgency absolutely intoxicating. and if she kept grinding against him in the middle of the room for a couple more minutes—houston, they will have a problem. tilting his face down, his lips brushed against hers in a ghost of a kiss to divert the attention from his neck, teasing just to make her want it more. “here on out, no more games, okay?” he whispered against her lips, his breath mingling with hers, eyes hooded as he looked at her. then he kissed her—fully, deeply, with all the passion that had been building up between them. it was hungry and demanding, his hand sliding up her back, pressing her closer as if he couldn’t get enough.

without true sight, he clumsily guided her towards their destination, his lips never leaving hers, hands grasping their ass, fondling her through her jeans, giving her no choice but to follow his lead. they bumped into a few items along the way, even tripping on his shoes carelessly forgotten in the middle of the living room, prompting a chuckle released in between. eventually, child-like laughter and roaming hands got them into the bedroom with minimal damage, kicking the bedroom door closed behind them with his foot. he eased her down onto the mattress with purpose, breaking for breath before he leaned over her as his hand slid up her thigh, lips finding home once again.

the kiss started tender, soft, but his impatience got the best of him, single-handedly unfastening her jeans with a deftness only he could pull off, just enough to slip his hand inside, curling within, needing every bit of her right then and there. he moved with her, his other hand cradling her face as he drove his body down against her, every movement meant to show her just how much he needed her, just how much he desired her. he whispered her name between kisses, a breathless mix of affection and desire, his voice cracking slightly with the weight of the moment. skylar was everything, and stephen wanted to make sure she knew that—wanted to make sure she felt adored in every single touch. after a few long moments, he pulled back, his breathing heavy, and he looked down at her with a crooked smile, his thumb brushing along her lower lip. “why are you still dressed?” he teased, his voice warm, a hint of laughter in his eyes, as if he wasn’t the one ambushing her. stephen didn’t wait for an answer, though—assisting his girlfriend with their clothes, hoodie over head and shirt on the floor, the first of many to be hastily thrown into a heap behind them. hungry for more, he pulled her against him, her bare skin warm against his chest. “no time limits, just us, remember?”

[notsosecretlyalesbian]

"At a time when my life felt scattered and incomplete, the fantasy world of The Parent Trap, and the warm and maternal presence of Chessy, provided me with a dream of gluing the pieces of it together. The film, though not explicitly queer, still provides a sort of utopia of queer acceptance, connection and love. [...] Some days I still think that maybe all I need is a hug from Lisa Ann Walter and I will be all right." - Michael Elias (x)

Lisa Ann Walter as Chessy in The Parent Trap (1998)

[leyiorr]

i can't stop looking at her t-t-t-t, FACE!

mdni.

satoru gojo is doomed.

why is he doomed, you ask? well, put bluntly, you, his girlfriend of five months, are driving him absolutely crazy.

crazy is an understatement, actually. insane, mad, mental, unhinged, deranged, bonkers - whatever you want to call it. he's holding on by a thread; the thinly woven string known as sanity growing ever weaker as the days roll by and turn into weeks.

of course, he's only blaming you. you hadn't actually done anything wrong.

you're the first relationship satoru's had in his life, and he'd be damned if some inappropriate thoughts ruin his chances with the love of his life. he'd never been happier - dating you gave him the kind of happiness he thought only existed in movies; the kind of giddiness of a child in a candy store.

he was devoted to you in every way, shape and form - you are everything he's dreamed of and more.

more.

that's right, you were more.

recently, you were the devil's temptation personified.

surprisingly, even after twenty-odd years of being one of the most attractive guys around, and having women throw themselves at him like he's some kind of greek deity, satoru is a virgin. i'll repeat that, he is a virgin. a fact that only suguru knows. a fact that he's neglected to tell his girlfriend.

he may have a flirtatious personality and the ability to charm ninety percent of the human race with one of his thousand-kilowatt smiles, but in truth, he had never dated anyone. ever. let alone got his dick in a pussy.

so when he starts wanting to go further, he's not sure how to bring it up without sounding like a horndog.

it all started when you wore a sleek black dress to one of your dates. it clung to your figure, fabric wrapping shamelessly around your every curve and tickling your midthigh at its end. and if that wasn't bad enough, it had a plunging neckline, giving the world - satoru specifically - an eyeful of the assets god gifted you with. your boobs were practically spilling out of your dress, the light catching your cleavage as you held his arm. he could feel himself salivating like some sort of perv. how was he supposed to focus with aphrodite's personal creation hanging off his arm?

his eyes began to drift to the flesh of your chest more than he'd like to admit. all sorts of r-rated scenarios ran through his head and he dared to entertain every. single. one. he could do so much with them, tease them, spit on them, pinch them, suck on them, put his dick between them-

“satoru?”

his gaze snaps back to your face at record speed. you notice how he's chewing his bottom lip, flush creeping onto his cheekbones and the tips of his ears. his hands are clammy; there's suddenly too little oxygen in his room.

“did you listen to anything i said?” your arms fold beneath your bosom and satoru almost implodes.

what do you expect him to do? the necklace around your neck has his initial on it, and it hovers over your tits almost mockingly. if it snapped, the letter would fall right between the valley of your breasts-

“satoru!”

he's choking on his saliva, apologizing profusely as he encourages you to continue your story - though he hasn't heard shit over the blood pumping loudly in his ears.

it's a battle no, a war between his rationality and his desires and he doesn't know which is winning. his rationality wins when he's around you - he just sucks in a breath and thugs it out, no matter how much his dick shouts at him. but in private, he's letting the desires win as his fists himself to the thought of you, your lips, your ass; your boobs.

the first time he sees you in a bikini he has to take a breather before he can get into a game of beach volleyball with you and the group.

(and even then he was struggling. every time you jumped for the ball the only thing he was looking at was your tits.)

he should be neutered. effective immediately.

it drags out for so long that you finally notice, and force him to talk to you about why he's avoiding you, and if you'd done anything wrong. but all you get is:

“baby, i'm so sorry- you're so pretty and i can't help myself. i didn't know how to bring up that i wanted to take our relationship to the next step, you mean the world to me and i'd hate to make you uncomfortable-” he trips and stumbles over his words-

“...is that it?”

and his eyes bug out of his head as he stares at you. weeks, months of agony over this and all you have to say is 'is that it'?

he doesn't even have chance to respond; to process your words before you're popping the top button of your blouse.

yeah, satoru gojo is doomed.

[rissouu]

the strong scent of vanilla hit his nostrils as he gripped the sides of your waist. his face was nuzzled into your neck, while his hands focused on caging you down onto him. sleep was never easy for gojo, he always had something on his mind. and even when he didn’t it still wasn’t possible for him to get any rest. how could he sleep when he had such a beautiful wife to gaze at?

he was fascinated with every little thing about you. the way your bottom lip curled into a pout when you slept, or how your eyebrows would furrow up as if you were mad.

gojo could go on and on about the smallest of details when it came to you. you were his everything. and also the reason he could never get any sleep, he was too busy being allured by your beauty.

“my beautiful..” he trailed off, leaving soft kisses on your neck, so soft because he didn’t want to wake his gorgeous goddess. “beautiful wife..” now his hands were in your hair, gently soothing your scalp.

the biting didn’t start until he got bored of playing in your hair. gojo’s teeth grazed your neck ever so lightly before slowly sinking in, not enough to hurt you but enough for you to feel it, causing you to stir in your sleep.

his lips sucked at the bite mark offering the irritated skin a sense of relief. the hand that was on your waist, binding you to him was now inside of your shirt, soothing the skin of your back as if you were a baby. his baby.

“i love you s’much my princess, you’re never leaving me okay? our souls are tied for life,” he spoke so softly as he left one last bite, but this time it was to your cheek. and even though you were asleep.. your body seemed to somehow answer for you.

your hand lightly slapped against his cheek, fingers hitting the lids of his eyes. gojo couldn’t stop the low chuckle bubbling from his throat as he gave your sleeping form one last smile before replying.

“im glad ya’ understand mama.”

©rissouu 2024 (im not crying u are).

[nightlark100]

Consequences (Pt 10)

Me: Time for some Steph!

Steph: Noooo please don't drag me into this

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

Stephanie was making breakfast when the doorbell rang. She frowned. After the initial flurry of activity when her dad was declared missing (if she never had to see their lawyer again it would be too soon), she'd mostly been left alone. The only person who came to the house regularly was Peter and he had a key.

She eyed her plate longingly, trying to decide if she could ignore the visitor. When they rang again, she sighed and brushed her hands off on her flannel before heading to investigate.

She opened the front door and leaned against the frame. Outside were two people who looked far too perky for the time of day, a man and a woman both clad in bright t-shirts bearing the slogan 'Virginity Rocks'.

"Can I help you?"

"Miss Lauter?"

"That's me."

"Hi! It's great to meet you. I'm Jerry, and this is Jeri. We're youth ministers at the local church and we run the abstinence summer camp."

"Sorry, all my charitable donations are reserved for animal welfare charities."

Steph saw something flicker across Jerry's face for a moment but he quickly smoothed it out and carried on speaking.

"Oh we're not here for money. A member of our church asked us to come. We were hoping to speak with Grace?"

"Her parents sent you."

"Her mother. She's very concerned about Grace's wellbeing and we've always been close, she comes to our camp every year," Jeri explained.

"I can see your teachings really worked," Steph said snidely. A little unfair to Grace, yes she knew, but she couldn't resist the dig. Once again Jerry's expression faltered.

"You've got a bit of an attitude problem."

"I've been told. Although not usually by people who want to come in my house."

Jerry opened his mouth to say something but girl Jeri grabbed hold of his wrist, silencing him.

"Please, we just want to know Grace is okay. Her mother is worried and so are we."

Steph bit her lip. The woman at least seemed sincere.

"You can come in. I'll see if she's up for visitors. And if she's not, you go. I won't have you stressing her out."

"We understand."

Steph eyed them warily, before stepping aside and letting them inside.

"If you can just wait here for a minute," she told them before disappearing up the stairs to Grace's room. She didn't particularly want to leave them alone in her house but given how erratic Grace's moods had been lately (for good reason), it was best she check on her first.

She knocked and heard Grace's cheery voice from inside. Ahh, a good day then.

"Hey Grace. How you feeling today?"

"Pretty good! I didn't throw up this morning,"

"That's great. Think you can stomach some pancakes?"

"That sounds lovely Stephie!"

"We also have... visitors. To see you. Said they're called Jerry and Jeri?"

"Oh!" Grace paled. "Wh... why are they here?"

"Your mom asked them to come. I can send them away if you want?"

"No... I... Jeri is really sweet but... Jerry... boy Jerry can be... a lot."

"How about I send girl Jeri up to see you on her own?"

"Thank you," Grace gave her a grateful smile and started tidying herself up. Steph patted her shoulder and headed back downstairs. The two Jerries were lurking in the entrance hall, standing very close to one another. Like... weirdly close.

Steph cleared her throat, drawing their attention and sending them skittering apart. It was honestly kind of amusing.

"She said she'll see you," she told Jeri. Both of them made for the stairs but she intercepted boy Jerry. "Sorry, I don't think it's appropriate for a man to be in her bedroom. You can wait down here."

Boy Jerry looked more than a little annoyed but allowed her to lead him into the kitchen where she resumed making breakfast, moving silently as he watched her intently.

He looked poised to say something when the sound of the front door opening diverted his attention.

"I have returned from my quest!" called Peter. "Bearing the jam that my fair lady has requested!"

He entered and presented her with a jar of fancy jam in a dramatic fashion.

"No more fantasy TV shows for you," Steph told him as he gave her a kiss on the cheek.

"I thought it was just Grace and yourself living here?" Boy Jerry's voice was icy and Peter stiffened, half turning.

"Jerry."

"Peter."

"What's he doing here?"

"They stopped by to see Grace."

"They? Oh... right."

"I can see that Mrs Chasity was right to be concerned about her daughter's wellbeing if you're... cohabiting."

"What, you think I'm going to get her more pregnant?" Peter asked, raising an eyebrow. "Besides, we're not 'cohabiting'. I just have a key. And... wait, why am I justifying myself to you? This isn't camp."

"You actually went to their camp?"

"Yeah. Ted made me."

"Doesn't seem to be the kind of thing Ted would be in favour of."

"He's not but he had to go when he was a teenager and he thinks if he has to suffer, I should too. They confiscate my emergency chocolate and I always end up finishing the summer with a serious hand cramp."

"Peter!" Steph laughed. Peter flushed, realising what he'd accidentally implied.

"From making wallets!"

"Well it looks like you could use a little bit more wallet making Spankoffski, it doesn't seem like you've taken our lessons to heart."

Pete made a face and slumped into a seat next to Steph, resting his head against her shoulder. She smoothed down the side of his hair, drawing a sleepy smile.

"You not sleep well?"

"Bad dreams."

"That's your guilt for your sinful ways manifesting," Jerry said snidely. Peter narrowed his eyes.

"Well at least my sins only manifest as dreams and not as eight foot tall hatchet wielding woodsmen or piles of dead bodies."

"Huh?" Steph asked. Boy Jerry had gone pale and his expression was flicking back and forth between the pleasant neutral mask he put on and barely supressed rage.

"We're leaving. I'm going to inform Mrs Chasity that she should retrieve Grace at once."

"Grace is eighteen. She can't be 'retrieved' like a package," Steph said. Jerry scowled and went into the entrance hall, calling up the stairs for girl Jeri who appeared quickly. Her face was creased, clearly distressed by his shouting, and she seemed to be on the verge of tears when he forcefully steered her out of the house.

"You know the lords said about Grace killing 'dirty dudes'?" Steph said after silence had once again fallen on the house. "I vote him."

Peter laughed softly, before pausing and sniffing.

"Steph, I think your pancakes are burning."

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

Boy Jerry is hard to write :(

Consequences (pt1)

In which the Lords in Black aren't fully satisfied with Grace's sacrifice (or, the pitfalls of an abstinence only sex education)

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

She hadn't wanted to kill them, Grace thought numbly as she stared down at her dirt streaked hands, unable to shake the image of her latest victims from her mind. Yes, she believed that the behaviour she'd witnessed from the young couple, drunk and making out in the park, was dirty and perverse but she didn't want to kill them. And yet when she had gotten near, it was as though she was seized by a terrible hunger and she just couldn't stop herself.

She slipped to the ground, resting her head against the side of her bed and felt tears burning her eyes. It had been a few months since everything with Max... since she had given in to the primal temptations and sacrificed her chastity to send him to hell. She should feel... something. Relief? But her insides felt like they were rotting. She'd done so many terrible things and she didn't even have her unwavering faith to fall back on anymore, not after what she'd seen in the school gym. She didn't know if the colourful figures had been demons or if they truly were gods but it felt like jagged claws had slashed apart the fabric of her soul, leaving jagged doubts behind. Doubts and hunger.

At first she'd been able to ignore it but it had gotten stronger. It would rise in waves, crescendoing down onto her when they peaked and leaving her scrabbling for purchase as her mind crumbled.

Even the brief moments of peace she usually got between the waves had been lost to her now as she found herself battling daily with nausea, sometimes barely making it from her bed to the bathroom in time. She had tried to hide it as best she could but she knew her parents were concerned, had heard them whispering while she lingered in doorways. If it continued much longer they'd want to take her to the doctor, but she knew medicine couldn't help her. Her soul was sick, that was the cause. She would just have to pray harder. Maybe she could ask Stephie and Petey for help? Surely her friends would agree to pray with her when they saw how bad things had gotten.

Struggling to her feet, feeling her stomach twist painfully as she did so, she retrieved her phone from her bedside and sent Steph a text asking to meet up.

Her friends would help. They had to.